#this feels all over the place but oh well

[tonycries]

BUTTER

Synopsis. First time cúmming inside = first time losing his mind.

Pairings. [SEPARATE] Gojo x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, creampíes, PÚSSYDRÚNK JJK MEN, breéding, cúmplay, men whímpering, virgínity loss (Choso), overstím, ínnapropriate use of jujutsu, GOJO’S POWERS, proposals, full nélson, true form Sukuna, dp, spítting, p slápping, p talking, limitless, oraI (fem rec.), pet names, swéaring.

Word count. 5.9k

A/N. Hope y’all have a lovely week <3

♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - Earned it.

“I-is she really tellin’ me to hah- f-fill her up inside, doll?” Toji breathes, dazed eyes locked down at your stuffed entrance. And he can barely focus his gaze - barely even try to sound like himself right now. “I-is this real?”

Ragged rasps just about half as ruined as he feels, lilting up in pitch. In strain. Sharp intakes of breath becoming so labored when his entire hulking body wracks with a heaving shiver. 

And Toji’s scrambling his thick fingers to latch roughly onto your face, your waist - anywhere and everywhere that might help him keep an ounce of his sanity.

But it was too late.

“Heh, did I hngh- fuck the rationality outta ya? You really want me t-to-” Head throwing back, he can’t even think of finishing his sentence. Of doing anything other than curling one set of fingers around your throat. Biceps flexing when he shoves you even harder onto all fours on the silken sheets, he cranes over to place a line of pretty pecks down your teary cheeks, panting, “Well…wh-whatever my girl wants- she gets, right?”

And he meant it.

Oh, he couldn’t even believe it. Toji had your pretty pussy overfilled with all of his thick, thorough inches - slamming his hips drunkenly against yours when you’d babbled to cum inside. Fuck, it’s so real.

And that’s all it takes for him to clamor up one of his staggeringly muscular thighs up onto the plushy bed. To messily slip and slide across the saturated puddle of your sweet, sweet dripping juices and press his foot down shamelessly on your head. Like he couldn’t get enough.

The new angle nestles his hefty cock disruptively, dredges of his sweltering hot precum splat! against every inch of your clingy cunt.

“Oh yeah- th-this is the stuff.” His dark, dewy eyes veer to the very back of his head, hissing when his achy cock expands open your gummy walls. Throbbing head swelling plumper to curve even deeper, “Let me- l-let me hear ya, ma-”

Your trembly fingers rake a reddened line down his calf. Gasping for air at the way the rotund end of his angry, strawberry-pink tip kisses against your g-spot so snugly. “W-wan’ it so badly- please.”

“Want what?” Toji’s teasing tone rumbles from behind, and he’s gyrating his hips ever-so-slightly slower. Making sure to draw out those wet, translucent glides down your tight channel, “Can’t- can’t hear you-”

Honestly, he had absolutely no idea whether it was because of your honeyed tone breaking out into the cutest of whimpers, or because Toji’s ears were popping. Swatting a wet smack! at your beading clit to get you to yelp, his drawling mouth moves all by itself. “Already asked- t-tell me now unless ya want me to cum outside-”

“No! No no no-” And that was all the threat it took to have you careening unsteadily onto your elbows, fully forgetting the mean restraint of Toji’s foot on top of you. “Please- need you to cum inside please-”

“Louder.”

You’re sneakily shivering your hips down every one of his rummaging inches. “Toji-”

“Ohhhh- my bad.” With a slight snicker, his tongue glissades a wet gloss down the very edges of his scar. Leaving rounded circular bruises at your bobbing throat just how harshly Toji was jostling you with the vice-like embrace, and you can only manage out a few sniffles when he drags by one strong arm to crash the recoil into his ruthless hips. Dangerously stopping you in your tracks. Humming, “Stop fuckin’ running, I w-was talkin’ to ya pretty pussy.”

Your bleary eyes snap open, “What–”

“Shhh, doll- stop whining so much–” he’s cooing in a syrupy slow cadence. “Jus’ needa- needa hear it from her.”

Slapping down his leaky cockhead along your sloppy hole every few strokes, having you drooling a glossy sheen down his thick shaft like you were painting him. So much of it that the dripping wet noises were resounding in Toji’s ears, dancing around his melty mind like his new favorite song. 

Oh, he loved to hear it. Over and over and-

“S-so soaked.” he’s groaning out like a mantra, darkened eyes grifting together. Mouth can all but lift his drunken maw slack open at every tightening clamp of your syrupy pussy, “You want me to cum inside this badly, doll?” 

And you feel your puffed-up pussy lips get even more soaked at the utter pussydrunk look on Toji’s usually smug-features. “Because I’ve been thinking about this e-ever since the day I met ya-” He’s craning over - hunching, more like.  Baring you with his most crazed gaze, “To breed ya- to fill you up ‘ntil you think you’re gonna hah burst. To make ya a pretty momma so-” Back muscles flexing, abs aching with fatigue, lips dragging a sopping wet kiss. “-please let me cum inside.”

Ah, who was Toji Fushiguro against you?

Because as soon as your head even dares to move within the inch of that half-delirious nod you send his way, Toji’s sopping your insides sloshing wet with his cum. For the first time. In awe. Load after load being fucked up into you - white flashes behind your eyes when you feel it knock against your womb, trickling down over your cervix.

And there’s so much of it.

“Gonna have yer g-gorgeous eyes-” he slurs, crushing you with his full body weight. “-n’ your smile fuck- my love for ya-” It won’t’ stop - Toji can’t stop, can’t reel back the weepy curving divot of his head. “M’thinking four- no- five.” Still oozing out a milky gloss even when he’s dragging his fat cock out of your hole. 

Still cumming. Smearing every nook and cranny of the sheet below white as he flips you around and plants a sudden smack! on your overspilling pussy, gushing out obscenely when Toji’s urgently bringing his face down, down, down.

“Oh. Fuckin’ delicious.” His eyes droop half-lidded at the heavenly sight - shit, he could get used to this. Mouth watering, his feverish breath wafts all over your sensitive pussy. “I earned this, didn’t I, ma?”

♡ NANAMI KENTO - Happy wife, happy life

“Ken-”

“...”

“Ken.”

But oh, Nanami Kento can’t even hear his pretty wife right about now. Can’t do anything but shove his greedy tongue down the ends of your sopping wet slit, pooling your syrupy juices all the way down to his throat.

In fact, the only response you’re being gifted with is a furious pull on his dangling work tie - barely even bothering to change out of it - to be able to swipe his nose down more freely in a long kiss down your puffy clit. More, more, more-

Keening, your fingers tangle into Nanami’s blond strands - tugging, dragging, but shit, he couldn’t - wont. It hurt for him to even think of pulling away. Roughened palms scissor past your folds, and he pants, “P-please- fuck- just a bit- more-”

He was addicted. Gone. 

“B-but Ken-” Couldn’t register anything past the way your voice was dipping into a whiny territory right now that made him twitch dangerously. That is, until- “Wan’ to cum w-with you- to have you ah- cum inside-”

Oh.

If you thought that Nanami was drunk on you before then you were completely unprepared for the way that singular babbling plea make him still. 

It makes him gasp, honeyed eyes widening, feverish breaths spilling out in heaving puffs of condensation - once, twice. Before your back is suddenly slamming down on the counter, legs splayed out shamefully by Nanami’s sturdy forearms, and your cunt-

Fuck, in a few split-seconds, you were being stuffed so thoroughly open. Nanami’s reddish cockhead springing down to gift a wet thwack! thwack! thwack! on your puffed-up clit, he’s swiping down the ends of your drooling lips. 

“I-inside?” he breathes, a few octaves higher than usual.

You’re nodding, your fingers twirling around his haphazard tie. “Inside.”

“Anything…” Nanami breathes, and he sounds like he doesn’t even know that he’s saying the words. Barely ripping his gaze from you to scramble for your left hand - before placing a sweet, sweet peck on that cool wedding band on your ring finger. “Anything f-for you, my love.”

You’re almost crying at that ruthless stretch of his globular tip poking at your insides, he’s caving in a way open - and even after so many years, you’ve never gotten used to how staggeringly big Nanami’s girth was. How his curved divot was steaming out a thick wad of precum that already made you feel so full.

Now, you two had discussed kids - but never acted upon it like this. This needy. This frenzied-

“Wh-whatever you want, y’know-” He’s humming depravedly into your mouth like a mantra,  thumbing past your pouty lips to spit into your mouth. And that very sight of those translucent splatters makes his hips stutter mindlessly, “Anything for you- anything for the future momma of my kids-”

Shit, you throw your head back as soon as he’s grazing two digits down the very hood of your neglected clit - only for Nanami to jostle your head over his hands.

“C-careful-” he murmurs, hand dipping down to massage your neck. Your shoulders - all while his fat cock was rummaging every nook and cranny of your insides. “-don’t wan’ you to hurt your- hah-self, darling. S’not good f-for the-”

Baby.

Nanami doesn’t think he can even bear to say that simple word right about now. 

Risking losing whatever’s left of his sanity, he’s wrapping one beefy arm around your middle to crush your body to his. And before you know it, you’re being hastily jostled off of the counter and dangled midair - all while your gentle husband barely even breaks a sweat. Utilizing the lewd properties of gravity to let you bounce down onto his long length and back upwards. His voice cracks, “-baby.”

“Ah-” your trembly hands wrap their way around his neck, giving Nanami the perfect angle to pepper peck after sultry peck onto your bouncing tits. “D-don’t hah- drop me, Ken, m’kay?”

Drop you?

Drop you?

God, he lets out a slight chuckle at the very thought. Angling to rut his inches even deeper upwards, every tiny massage of your elastic walls around his painful cock makes Nanami nod. So fervently that stray strands stick to his prespired forehead. Such a pretty mess of your sensible husband. “Mhm- w-won’t drop you, I swear- I swear-”

Hips speeding up in such a sloppy way now, but even how you’re tightening his tie won’t make Nanami stop - slow down.

“Promise?”

Slowly, his dribbling cock gushes out even in even more velvety ribbons, you’re watching in such delirious awe at the way those delicate strings of slick and spit stretch all down his pinkish shaft. 

“Promise-” he groans, feeling light-headed. Heavy balls thwacking in a sticky staccato against your ass. Fingers gliding up, up, up to where he was nudging your sensitive g-spot, bruising out his circumference on all your sensitive areas. Kiss after French kiss into your gooey heaven. He presses down. “-gonna f-fill you up right here- won’t miss. Swear I won’t m-miss-”

And he doesn’t.

God, he grows sullenly quiet to hear all those delicious squelches the very moment Nanami’s steaming hot cum is spilling into you. Warming you from the very insides- and your own orgasm has you seeing stars. 

Sloshing around in his favorite little swivels, he can’t help but let his hips gyrate slowly to feel it coat a creamy gloss down his sensitive cock. To feel your tiny whimpers and whines when his seed dredges down your womb. Drip! drip! dripping onto the kitchen tile in an echoing splatter from your slobbery slit. 

You leave a wet peck at the ends of his curled lips, “W-wan’ keep it all inside, Ken- all of it-”

God, you were going to be the death of him.

“M’gonna marry you all over again- s-swear and- and…” And just then, he shudders so violently that you fear for a split-second, legs around his toned waist tightening. “-o-oh, my love- m’gonna cum again.”

♡ GETO SUGURU - “U-use me.”

“I-I’m so close-”  Geto finds it in himself to grit his teeth, to force his jittery fingers up to pinch your plump clit. “-gonna cum- fuck, s-stop riding me, honey- unless ya want me to fill you up heh-”

It’s said so low and sultry and even through your hazy mind, you know that it’s a simple tease coming from your boyfriend. You know that he didn’t mean anything by it - but that certainly doesn’t stop the way that your hands grasp around his shoulders, knocking your heads into a messy French kiss. “But, I want you to, Sugu.”

Oh. 

Geto Suguru can’t hide the way his chest heaves with a choked-up moan, how his head throws to the very back of his silken pillowcases when his hips rut upwards into you like a fucking animal.

It’s like he was out of control. Ears ringing with the words, it takes the cult leader below you every shred of will in his entire body to groan out, “D-don’t joke like that- fuck- gonna give me a heart attack, y’know-”

“M’not joking.”

Shit, his eyes widen. Straying down to where your puffy pussy lips were bulging around his fat girth, swallowing up every greedy inch that you were being drilled with. Throat dry, every sound that comes out of him now is painfully raspy, “Y-you fuckin’ mean it? Better not be fuck- talking outta this naughty-” Swat! Coming down to kiss a punishing smack against the edges of your drooling cunt. “-pussy.”

You couldn’t fake the way that makes you glissadingingly drenched even if you wanted to. Nails raking down Geto’s curvaceous pecs to steady your stuttering hips, your bounces grow frantic. 

“Please- c-cum inside-” begging. Maybe you were cockdrunk already, pouting in a way that has his hefty, cum-filled balls squeezing. “Jus’ want you all inside-”

And when Geto thinks back to this situation, he doesn’t know how he was ever supposed to stand a chance. Because with a gasping ricochet of his fat, curved cock onto your most precious g-spot, he’s surging stringy wads of seeds that trickles down your inner thigh. Cumming and cumming so hard - it’s never felt this good - that he almost forgets it’s too early.

That is, until you’re gasping a soft “Baby, did you-”

“Sh-shut up-” And you swear your big, strong boyfriend whimpers. He’s furiously blinking away those glittery globular tears at the ends of his eyes. A tiny pout smeared across his rosy pink lips when you’re being flipped.

One hand around your throat, the other plugging back creamy dredge after dredge into your drooling cunt. Almost as if it was offensive to him to catch that syrupy drizzle, he’s making such a fucking mess. 

“Such a filthy girl- n’ a filthy cunt-” He sputters out, and Geto felt like he was burning a bright red blush all down his pretty features. Matching the angry way your hips were being slammed into his, “Think you s-sooo fuckin’ fuck- fuck fuck fuck-”

And shit, he can’t even finish his sentence before those moans are petering out into speechlessness. A singular tight squeeze of your gummy walls encircles his hot girth. And it’s enough to make him whine, “Please- fuck, how are you doing this-”

Sounding so genuinely in disbelief, you watch as Geto’s mouth drops lewdly at the way every pearlescent bead of his cum was directed towards your cunt. Seeping out through the edges of your sopping lips.

You’re giggling in a drunken way that makes him flinch, “S-something wrong, Sugu?”

“Don’t-” he bares you with a feral grin. Heavy limbs throwing apart your limp legs to jostle his hips into you even harder, and it’s like Geto was spearheading into your lungs. Swiping up translucent wet splatters of his fat head in delicious drags down your spongy cervix. Hissing that even the slightest bit of recoil had him parting from the melty depths of your pussy. “-don’t call m that ‘nless you want me to- oh-” His dewy eyes roll to the back of his head, leaving another unapologetic smack! on your peaked clit. “-t-too late. M’gonna cum- fuck fuck fuck- n’ s’all your fault-”

“Awww–” Teasingly, your fingers drag through his long curtain of hair, scratching lightly at Geto’s scalp in a way that makes him purr. “-how can I hah- make it up to you, Sugu?”

The only thing he wanted right now was to cum inside you again. Once more. Twice. Thrice. Again and again and-

“Use me-” Geto gasps, and he’s careening his head down for what you assumed would be one of his favorite messy kisses - only to wrap those pinkish lips around your tongue and suck. “Use me use me- ohh please, use me- honey- make me a daddy. D-don’t even care anymore-”

And when he cums, Geto’s filling your already sloshingly drenched cunt with heavy loads of his seed. Sticky and honeyed enough that it’s next to impossible for him to pull out and sheath his rock-hard dick unforgivingly into your pussy. 

One of the biggest threats to jujutsu society - whimpering when he spews out a stream of wet swears into your open-mouth, shivering at every one of your milking clamps to drag out something delicious from him. 

He’s curling his hulking body into yours, dripping fingers glistening all the way down to Geto’s wrist with just how much of his loads he’d shoveled all the way back inside your cunt. Giving your sloppy hole a languid circle around the diameter with his slender fingers, before popping them into his mouth. 

And Geto can only see stars behind his eyes, he can only moan at the taste, “I think…” Peaking out a hazy eye at your squirming figure - where the hell did you think you were going? He’s hypnotized, dragging you back into his clutches with a hand curled prettily around your throat. “-that w-we’re not done until m’cumming b-blanks, honey.”

♡ CHOSO KAMO - Marry you…

One swipe - just one swipe of Choso’s fattened, blushing red tip down your slit is all that it takes for his stupidly pussydrunken eyes to run to the back of his head. For his drooling mouth to slack open with all the utter need of a virgin, “Please-”

You’re humming through your moans, arching your body just right for him to feed you more and more of his half-flaccid inches. “Tell me what you want, baby-”

Fuck, he’s winking open his eyes to peer down at you. Hands traveling their way to roughly jostle your pliant body into one of the meanest mating presses you’d never thought your dear inexperienced best friend possible.

“N-noo–” Choso’s whining, pressing wet pecks down your lips. “Don’t call me that, baby- or else m’gonna…”

Choso’s handsome cheeks burn a shameful red when his eyes drift down to the gooey splatters of cum smeared along your stomach from not too long ago. Just the prospect of being able to put it in too much for his fried brain to handle.

And you’re finding your fingers darting across the glossy sheen sticking to your skin, bringing those drippingly wet digits up, up, up for Choso to gladly wrap his lips around. Sucking. 

“But I want you to, Cho–” Watching as his eyes widen, mouth dropping into a soft oh! Your voice drops into such a hum that makes his swollen tip twitch startlingly. “Want you to c-cum inside m-”

Shit, he doesn’t hear the rest of the sentence - and he doesn’t want to. 

Not unless Choso wants to make an even bigger fool of himself in front of his pretty best friend that oh-so-kindly suggested taking away his virginity. Not like there’s anyone else he’d even dream of giving it to.

Thick, sculpted thigh hiking up, he’s slamming his hefty cockhead down until your swollen folds were kissing up in a sweet, sweet pucker against his thick hilt. Grinding in slow, sultry gyrations upwards like he still wanted to stuff you with more, more, more- 

“I-I can can cum inside?” Forehead beading with sweat, lower lip wobbling with the sheer effort that it took to merely hold back the way that his achingly hard cock was straining for release once more. Hissing at the almost sizzling drag of precum down your bulging g-spot. “For my first time? Inside? R-really inside?”

And despite the way that he was so patiently waiting for your answer, Choso couldn’t help the way the greedy curve of his thumb swipes down your peaked clit. Rolling in lazy circles - low, and slow to make your gummy walls clench in that particular way he’s slowly gotten addicted to. 

You’re nodding with a smug smile at how pretty he looked all fucked-out like this. Darkened eyes all droopy and half-lidded like he was blinking through syrup, muscles twitching mouth-wateringly, hair browner than usual with his sweat-dampened streaks. You can’t help but wring your fingers through his locks and tug, in a way that makes him hiss. In a way that makes him gasp. 

In a way that has him spurting out a thicker stream of precum into your gooey cunt - close. So close. “Mhm– let it a-all out inside, baby.”

Oh god, and then he does-

He does and Choso’s sure he sees the pearly gates of heaven right then and there, and he knows you’re his very own angel.

“Move your pretty fingers, baby– I wan’ you to t-take it all-” It’s not even mean the way he swats away one of your hands subconsciously cupping your split pussy - it’s just desperate. So that he can place pound after filthy pound to fuck you into the soaked sheets. 

Whining out, “Yeah please- fuck-”  Snapping his flexible body down until you were folded helplessly in half, every languid second is spent with such velvety ropes of cum being stuffed down to the bottom of your pussy. “Wan’ this forever- forever please-” Thick, stringy wads that stick and slide down your walls - that overspills when it’s too much for your snug channel to take. “W-want this…”

And just one look of his greedy gazy downwards And Choso’s gasping like he couldn’t even believe he could cum this much - couldn’t even believe he could stop at this point.

“Marry me-” he’s sputtering, eyes clearer with the sudden idea. As if he’s imagining it already. Hips shifting to lazy down his sloppy staccato into something more thorough. “B-be my wife- have my kids- please-” Something that has your toes curling with pleasure, branding every ridge and thumping vein down his shaft into your walls contorting around him. Hiccuping - little sobs curling at the back of his throat, “Please- please I need you to marry me-” 

It’s overspilling - adding to that little milky pool from below. He’s barely even thinking before swiping a hand through some of those creamy remnants of cum. Sucking. Taking your own - popping that ring finger of yours into his mouth.

Drool drips down the side of his sodden lips, moving to mewl softly. “D-did that really just happen?”

The words come out nothing but a whisper, strangled and strained from the very depths of his rumbling chest. And Choso’s peering down at you like you were everything - his softening cock sending sparks down his spine with every slight rub down your sopping wet folds. 

“Mhm–” your hands make their way down his pecs, rubbing over pert, pink nipples. Something that makes him let out a low shudder, reddened divot bursting in a few more wispy strings of seed. “N’ you did so hngh- good, Cho.”

“D-did I? Was I your oh- good boy?” he stutters, before letting out a keening pout. “B-but I need to have you cum, too, baby- need to have you cum-” And you’re so at his ravenous mercy when Choso swipes a wet thumb over and over down your throbbing clit. “-and then- then can we get married?”

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - MESS!

“What the fuck-” The king of curses breathes - he heaves - like never before, even in that human form of his right now. “Wh-what the fuck have you done to me, woman-”

And all the foes in the world had nothing against your honeyed whines. Absolutely no match for the way your elastic walls were clinging around his throbbing cock so tight. No match for your cockdrunk babbling that drove him insane.

“Such a filthy mouth you h-have-” he groans, leering over his inhumanly powerful body to bend over yours. You’re gaping when one of his big, beefy arms jostle you upwards into a headlock. Even shapeshifted from his true form, he was still so strong. Spitting, “Do you dare to- fuck- move those pretty lips of yours n’ repeat those words back to me, brat.”

As if you could do anything else. 

“I-I said-” you’re choking out, panting in feverish gasps of the heady air. “-said I want you to c-cum inside-”

Oh. 

In a split-second, you’re feeling your tautly stretched walls expand to limits you weren’t even sure were possible. The very bottom of your pussy being ravaged with two circular brandings - two. Two matching rock-hard cocks jostling around you. 

And the stretch of Sukuna’s devilishly true form opening your cunt to its very limits is so maddening that it takes you a second to realize that the rest of him had shapeshifted, too. 

Suddenly bigger, suddenly more towering, suddenly the king of curses. 

His strong forearm curls even tighter around your throat, knocking the remaining gasps out of your lungs. “Seriously? L-look where talking outta ya slutty pussy hah- got me-” Sukuna chuckles. Deep and rumbling from his bulging pecs, “-c-can’t even hold a n-normal form- you made me do this- fuck-”

He was fucking you like it was your fault.

Solid inches upon inches that were bruising. And if you thought that Sukuna’s size was staggering in whatever human form he’d conjured up for the safety of your poor pussy - it was absolutely incredible with both his twin girthy cocks. Bigger, thicker. The slightest ruts and grinds into your gushing cunt having him knocking into your lungs, painting down a hefty load of steamy precum. 

Messy.

“Messy-” you hear a primal rumble from above you. Shit, did you say that out loud? Condensed breath heady and hot against your ear, “Heheh- you think this is m-messy, lil’ human? Wait until I-I- hah-”

“Y-you’re really gonna cum inside, Kuna?” you’re batting your teary lashes up at your king, a delirious smile smearing itself all over your face. 

Wobbling when his snapping hips purposefully slow down to mere gyrating squelches, every push and pull feeding your slobbery pussy languidly. You have him hypnotized, maw slacking open with every lazy drag of his heavy cocks back and forth back and forth back and- “Mhm- gonna fill ya up. Breed ya u-until you’re begging that ya can’t take it. Until y-you’re all round n’ glowing with my heirs.”

God. He was out of control.

“I-I can take it-” Your nails rake airily down his ever-tightening forearm - nothing but mere kitten scratches to Sukuna. “Promise Kuna- I can-”

“Tch- this damn naughty m-mouth of yours.” he smirks in a sleazy way - just about all that Sukuna can do to not let his voice break out in whimpers right now. All he can do to hold back his building high, curvaceous tips of his thickened cocks spazzing out tight, voluminous globs of wispy white. He’s covering your prattling mouth with one hand, “Take it then- take it- but ya better make an equal mess f’me. Heh-”

Even through your bleary mind, you already knew what he wanted - to have you squirt all down Sukuna’s weepy cocks. To make a mess. 

Always his favorite.

“Th-think ya can do that?” He snarls down at you, twiddling a few sopping wet digits to toy with your pulsing clit. Third and fourth arms snaking around your waist to keep from your pathetic scrambling. To stop your escape when his hips jackhammer away harder. “Can you- my queen?”

Oh, he cuts himself off with a whimper.

Because all of a sudden your gushing cunt is surging out in waves of translucent slick. It sticks to his rubbing cocks - and all the way to his washboard abs -like a gloss, stars behind your eyes when Sukuna’s fucking you through your high. Praises slipping out in a way that would’ve tarnished the king’s reputation if anyone found out.

But right now, he didn’t care. 

Not when he’s all but bursting from his bawling tips - such thick rivers of cum that knock mercilessly into your gummy spots. The force of both his fat heads streaming out relentlessly is enough to leave your forbidden sweet spots all bruised and battered. 

Inflating your snug channel until Sukuna only had to slide a hand down to about halfway down your abdomen, pressing down at that nudge. “Heh, s’right at h-home-” 

And now that he’s filled your pretty pussy with seed, Ryomen Sukuna doesn’t think it’s possible to cum anywhere else. With a shuddering hiss, he’s dragging his cocks out, spying down with hooded eyes at the way your sloppy entrance was molding and constrictign around him - like you were trying to milk the fucking soul out of him.

But Sukuna had other plans - plans that included letting his second tongue loll out, rough tastebuds sweeping a long lick down your leaky slit. Creamy cum trickling down the pinkish muscle, and he could feel his mouth grinning. Something he’s been wanting to do since he moment he fucking saw you.

“H-hey-” you’re turning your head to huff back at him. 

Smack!

“Ahh, stop yer whining-” Sukuna’s smoothing one hand down over the raised bumps of all five digits on your ass, another one of his hands guiding his fat bases to drive up your sopping crease. Pooling the milky remnants on his rotund tips. “-because m’not done breeding this cunt properly yet, my queen.”

♡ GOJO SATORU - Limit(less)

“This time-” Gojo’s heaving out a dragging shudder, his face burying hotly within the tender crook of your neck. Spitting - panting, “This time this time- this- time-”

Oh, it’s been just about the same thing that he’s been babbling for the past few hours now. All that he can utter after so long of his sensitively overworked cock stuffing in and out over your overspilling cunt, flickers of jujutsu bolting with every sodden drag down your melty walls.

Truly, the strongest didn’t expect to be addicted the first time he filled your drooling pussy with thick globs of his seed - it was an accident, the first trial of trying to use limitless for its…unintended purposes. 

But right now, Gojo had absolutely no clue if this was the nth trial or whether he was simply addicted to breeding your pretty cunt.

“T-Toru–” Your fingers scramble backwards to bury in his snow locks - difficult, with the way that your boyfriend was wrangling you into a tight full nelson. Feeling the push and pull of thick cursed technique in the air - inside you. “-s’not gonna work.”

God, just the sear of your grip on his scalp is enough to have Gojo’s hips rutting up in a perfect curve off the plush king-size mattress. Fucking up into your cunt so thoroughly that you gasp at the syrupy slosh of his cum from before inside you. 

His hiccups, voice cracking into a whine at the very end. “D-do you hate me, sweetheart?”

“No?” you’re breathing out in exasperation. But shit, you underestimate just how crazed this tiniest sentiment would drive him, choking back a strangled cry of your name when he’s sending a buzzing smack! down to the hood of your plump cunt. “Fuck- why would you think-”

“Th-then let me use limitless as a- hah- condom, pretty girl-” he’s whining. And you jolt at the wet splatters of a few stimulated, pearlescent tears slipping their way out of Gojo’s eyes. “It’ll work- this time- m’the strongest- s’gonna hah- w-work- a-and if not m’jus’ breedin’ my girl’s cute cunt, r-right?”

But even as he’s prattling on and on about this, you’re feeling the flickering falter of jujutsu around Gojo’s hefty girth. Molding your gummy walls taut around his fat circumference, your spine arches with electricity. 

“Heheh-” Goosebumps prickle down your spine at the high, humorless bout of laughter at your ear - and you crane your head to look at Gojo. Sure that he’s lost it. Already wondering just how high the kill count would be. “-didn’t think th-this pretty pussy of yours would have me so ruined, sweetheart.”

And truly - he sounded like it. 

He looked like it, with his rosy lips ajar, those cerulean eyes watery and half-lidded. Glowing with power and tiny shivers of lighting at every sodden kiss to the bullseye of your g-spot. Clashing over and over in a wet push and pull, Gojo thinks that he could almost feel the rotund indentations of his curved tip right on your sweetest spots. 

“Looks like y-you’re the one ruining me- Toru-” you whine. “Just look-”

Drunkenly, Gojo’s lolling his head to the sound of your voice. Not even looking, barely even thinking - that is, until he sees.

And Gojo can’t help but let out a slew of honeyed, pathetically cracking profanities at the heavenly sight below. Pale forearms stretching out your trembly thighs even more shamefully wide to get an even closer look. 

Of your quivering hole winking up at him glisteningly, coating his fat hilt a creamy ring of white from so many of his failed attempts. Your saturatedly wet pussy lips were practically gulping up all of his heavy inches, slobbering a slow trail of drool down the side of his strawberry pink shaft and onto his twitchy balls. Needy. 

And if Gojo’s limitless protection was unsteady before then-

“Shit-” Gojo takes in a shuddering gasp, slender digits falling down to plant a wet smack! on the very middle of your bulging slit - as if all of this was your fault. “Shit shit shit shit- I-I can’t- oh-” Sharp canines sinking down so hard into your skin that you think he might break through. Just about all that’s keeping Gojo tethered to reality when his limitless shatters. “Oh god. Th-think s’gonna be another b-baby…”

All the way into a zillion pieces of nothingness and-

And then he’s cumming. 

Cumming so hard that the dim lamps by the side of your bed flickers. Then explodes. 

Pouring out such steaming hot piles of his cum - once. Twice. Before his swollen, overwhelmed balls are clenching and then he’s shooting nothing but pathetic blanks. 

It takes you a second to register the sudden darkness - all across Tokyo, in fact. You’re gasping, “O-oh, Toru did you-”

“Run out-” he’s giggling. Giggling. “Fuck you m-made me- hah- really milked me dry, didn’t ya- Spread those pretty legs a bit more, pretty girl. Let me see.” All five rounded pads of his fingers are bruising on your thigh when Gojo’s splaying them out to confirm the sputtering way his cock was driving into you. “Can’t- can’t believe- no way, baby m’supposed t-to fill you up-”

Shit, he was babbling out his true intentions so stupidly. But luck was on his side, because with a final, jujutsu-sheened swat at your cunt, the buzzing power finally sends you over the edge. 

Crashing headfirst into waves upon waves of white-hot pleasure, the engulfing goodness made you squeal. And it made Gojo grit his teeth with a low whimper at the way the simple clenching convulse of your gripping walls wrapped around his cock made him twitch in another dry orgasm. Another. And another. 

God, his first - well, not quite first - time cumming inside you and he’s already so fucked out.

Yet, despite it all, Gojo could almost count it a success…almost. 

“S-sweetheart, y’know Yaga always taught us that science experiments have hah- twenty-five trials, right?”

“...”

A/N. Gojo’s so annoying I love him.

Plagiarism not authorized.

[pucksandpower]

Rumour Has It

Franco Colapinto x Princess of Norway!Reader

Summary: you’ve never heard of Franco before and Franco has certainly never heard of you … but when gossip magazines decide to set you two up, Franco realizes that he wouldn’t mind making the rumors a reality

“Have you seen this?” Noora says, bursting into your study with a tablet clutched to her chest, her eyes wide and frantic.

You look up, half-expecting the sky to have fallen or for Oslo to be under siege. “Seen what?”

Noora slams the tablet down on your desk, and your face is met with a tabloid headline in bold, obnoxious letters: Norway’s Princess Caught in Secret Romance with Argentinian Racing Prodigy Franco Colapinto!

You blink at the screen, then back at Noora, and then at the screen again, as if maybe the headline might rearrange itself into something more sensible. “Sorry, who?”

“Franco Colapinto!” She says, exasperated. “The Argentine driver — the rookie! In Formula 1!”

You tilt your head. “I don’t know who that is.”

Noora gives you a look that’s somewhere between sympathy and horror. “Okay, well, apparently you’re dating him. And half of Norway seems to think so too, thanks to this article.”

“Dating? Noora, I’ve never even heard of him, let alone met him! And this … this is nonsense!” You shove the tablet back at her, feeling your cheeks flush. “How did this even happen?”

Noora sighs, sliding the tablet away. “It’s the internet. They don’t need facts to build a story — they just need a blurry photo and a wild imagination.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose, exhaling sharply. “And why didn’t anyone tell me sooner? It’s not like we don’t have a whole team for this.”

“Well, to be fair, it only surfaced last night,” she says, crossing her arms. “But now it’s all over social media, and your name is attached to his. People are actually talking about you two as if you’re the new royal couple.”

Your stomach does an uncomfortable flip. You’ve spent years cultivating a careful, respectable image — a modern princess who’s still traditional enough to respect the expectations placed on her. And now, you’re supposedly dating a race car driver?

“What exactly are they saying?” You ask, your voice quieter, laced with dread.

Noora hesitates, but you give her a pointed look until she relents. “They’re saying you met him at some secret event in Monaco and that you’ve been hiding your relationship to avoid the media frenzy. Apparently, he’s been visiting Norway on his off-days just to see you.” She snorts. “It’s absurd, really. But people are eating it up.”

You stare at her, your pulse thrumming in your ears. “This cannot be happening.”

“Oh, but it is. And the comments …” She trails off, biting her lip.

“Out with it, Noora.”

She sighs. “Some are saying it’s refreshing that you’re dating someone so … I don’t know, normal. But others …” She winces. “Others think it’s irresponsible. That you’re … well, neglecting your duty for some glamorous fling.”

You take a shaky breath, willing yourself to stay calm. “Neglecting my duty,” you repeat, more to yourself than to her. “Because I’m apparently sneaking off with some Formula 1 driver I’ve never even met.”

“I know,” she says, reaching out and giving your shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “But it’ll pass. A few days, maybe a week, and they’ll have moved on to the next scandal.”

You close your eyes for a moment, trying to imagine it blowing over. “And what if it doesn’t?”

“Then we get PR involved. Make a statement, deny everything.” She pauses, eyeing you with a wary smile. “Or, you know, we could just arrange a very public appearance with you and someone else. Nothing quashes rumors like a little royal romance with a suitable partner.”

Your eyes snap open. “Noora.”

She grins, unphased by your glare. “What? It’s an option.”

“I’m not going to parade around with someone just to make the tabloids happy,” you say, crossing your arms.

“Well, that leaves us with the boring option: addressing it head-on, squashing the rumor, and hoping it dies quickly.”

“That will just make it worse,” you sigh resignedly. “The press will think any denial means we have something to hide.”

Noora nods, still eyeing you cautiously. “You could always lean into it a little — make it sound mysterious.”

“Mysterious?” You echo. “No, Noora. I want it gone. I don’t even know this man!”

“All right, all right,” she concedes, hands raised in surrender. “But you know, you could at least look him up.”

You narrow your eyes. “Why would I do that?”

“Because people are going to be asking questions. You’re the Princess of Norway. If they think you’re dating him, it would help to know who he is.”

You open your mouth to argue, but she’s already pulling out her phone. “Just … humor me, okay? It’ll take two seconds.”

She taps her screen, and suddenly a series of photos pops up — images of a young man with dark hair and a serious expression, usually in some variation of a racing suit, often holding a helmet. He’s smiling in one photo, a faint smirk in another, but the confident gleam in his eyes is unmistakable.

“He’s twenty-one,” Noora says, scrolling through some text. “Started karting young, worked his way up. Got his big break with Formula 1 this year.”

You try not to look interested, but it’s hard to ignore the pictures flashing by. He has a kind of easy charisma, that much is obvious.

“And look,” she adds, holding up a picture of him on the track, eyes focused, mouth set in a determined line. “He’s pretty talented, apparently.”

You shake your head, forcing yourself to look away. “None of this matters. Because I don’t know him, and I’m certainly not dating him.”

Noora smirks. “Doesn’t matter. The media thinks you are, and as far as they’re concerned, that makes it practically true.”

You groan, sinking back in your chair. “So what do I do?”

“For now? Sit tight, let PR work their magic. But you might want to brush up on your Formula 1 knowledge, just in case anyone asks.” She grins, clearly enjoying your discomfort. “Wouldn’t want you to sound unprepared.”

You roll your eyes, reaching for the tablet and skimming the article’s ridiculous details. “He brought me roses on the first date?” You mutter, incredulous. “We had a secret dinner at a villa on the Côte d’Azur? Do they just make this up?”

“Pretty much. And it’s only going to get worse if people keep sharing it.”

You rub your temples, trying to banish the lingering image of Franco’s cocky smile from your mind. “Fantastic. Just what I needed — a fake romance with a twenty-one-year-old race car driver.”

Noora pats your shoulder sympathetically. “Could be worse.”

“How, exactly?”

“It could be real.”

***

Franco is hunched over his phone, scrolling mindlessly through his notifications as he waits for his PR briefing to start. The Williams headquarters is bustling this morning, and he barely notices when the door opens until Abbie, his PR officer, strides in, her expression uncharacteristically serious.

“Franco, we need to talk,” she says, folding her arms.

He glances up, one eyebrow raised. “Am I in trouble already? That’s got to be a record.”

Abbie sighs. “No, you’re not in trouble. But you’re in … let’s call it a situation.” She pulls up a chair across from him, lowering her voice as if sharing state secrets. “Have you seen the news?”

“Can’t say I have,” he replies, half-interested. “What, did Carlos suddenly decide to retire and I get to keep my seat for next season?”

Abbie doesn’t laugh, which is a bit worrying. Instead, she hands him her phone, showing a screen filled with a tabloid headline. Princess Y/N of Norway in Secret Romance with F1’s Newest Rising Star, Franco Colapinto!

His brows furrow as he reads, slowly, taking in the headline, the photos, the fabricated “romantic details.”

“Wait … I’m dating a princess?” He says, breaking into a grin. “And nobody thought to tell me?”

Abbie sighs. “Apparently. They’ve got edited photos, fake details — everything.”

He leans back, intrigued. “Princess Y/N,” he muses, tapping his chin with a thoughtful smirk. “Of Norway?”

“Yes, of Norway.” She leans in closer, her expression serious. “This has gone viral, Franco. Everyone’s talking about it.”

He can’t resist; he grabs his own phone and taps out “Princess Y/N of Norway.” The first few links are about her background, her position in the line of succession. “So, she’s next in line to be queen or something?”

“Second in line,” Abbie corrects. “After her father. She’s a pretty big deal over there.”

Franco’s eyes sparkle with interest. “Second in line. And she’s what … like, forty?”

“Not even close,” Abbie says, exasperated. “She’s around your age, I think. She’s twenty-something.”

Franco looks at her, skeptical. “Twenty-something? And a princess?” He scrolls through images of palaces, state functions, and some photos of you smiling politely at dignitaries. She’s dressed elegantly, impeccably, not a hair out of place.

Then, finally, he finds one candid shot, and he stops scrolling. You’re laughing in the photo, a little windswept, wearing jeans and a T-shirt, your smile bright and entirely un-royal. He smirks.

“All right, all right,” he mutters to himself, still looking at the photo. “She’s pretty cute.” He taps back to the headline with a glint of amusement in his eye. “But still not a MILF.”

Abbie groans. “You’re impossible.”

He shrugs, still looking delighted. “Come on. You know my type. I like them older. But …” He trails off, grinning wider. “I could certainly do worse.”

“You’re not actually considering this, are you?” Abbie says, horrified. “Franco, this is a fake rumor. You’re supposed to be distancing yourself from it.”

“Oh, I know. I know.” He holds up his hands in mock surrender. “But it’s kind of funny, isn’t it? Me, a royal boyfriend?” He leans back, arms crossed, still smirking. “I’m almost flattered.”

Abbie sighs and taps her own phone, clearly typing something in response to the rest of the Williams PR team. “Look, flattered or not, you need to be careful. She’s a public figure. If you say the wrong thing, it’ll just fuel the fire.”

“Oh, please,” he says, waving a hand. “What are they gonna do? Put me on trial?”

“Maybe not you,” Abbie replies, giving him a warning look, “but she has an image to protect. This isn’t just gossip for her — it’s her whole life.”

He lets out a low whistle, thinking. “Must be hard, huh? Everyone expecting you to act a certain way. Not much room for fun.”

Abbie eyes him, her expression softening a bit. “I’m sure it is. Which is why we need to treat this carefully.”

Franco glances back at the photos, his smile fading a bit as he considers. He may not know you, but he can picture the situation well enough: the relentless tabloids, the public judgment, all the expectations.

“All right, fine,” he says, finally. “What’s the plan?”

She breathes a sigh of relief. “Thank you. I’ll be working with her team to prepare a statement. The usual ‘there’s no truth to these rumors’ line. But until then, keep it low-key.”

He raises a brow. “Low-key? Since when have I ever been low-key?”

“Then try for once.” She gives him a pleading look. “It’ll help her out. Trust me.”

Franco nods, though there’s a spark of amusement still flickering in his eyes. He can’t help it — he’s never been one to turn down a little excitement, and this whole thing is exactly that. He glances at Abbie. “So … if someone were to ask about it …”

She narrows her eyes. “Franco. Don’t even think about it.”

He chuckles. “Relax. I’ll be good.”

But as he heads back to the simulator, he can’t resist a smirk.

***

The meeting room is far more understated than you would’ve expected for something of this scale, tucked away in a discreet corner of a private suite in a London hotel. But it’s neutral ground, and it’s quiet, and no one outside this room will ever have to know about this awkward collision of worlds.

You’re early, of course. You’ve been pacing for the last ten minutes, scrolling through every frantic email your team has sent since this ridiculous rumor broke, trying to make sense of the tabloids’ spiraling narrative.

Franco arrives with a small entourage, though it feels like the entire room shifts the moment he steps in. He looks relaxed, perfectly at ease — too at ease. He catches your eye almost immediately, smirking as if he’s been waiting his whole life for this absurd situation to unfold.

“Princess,” he says, as if the word is a private joke just for the two of you. He holds out his hand, that ever-present glint of mischief in his eyes.

You don’t take it, instead clearing your throat and nodding a polite, “Mr. Colapinto.”

He drops his hand, unfazed. “Mr. Colapinto? Ouch. I thought we were past formalities, what with the whole secret romance thing.”

You stare, unamused, but he only laughs, taking a seat at the conference table across from you. He leans back, stretching his arms over the back of his chair, entirely too comfortable.

Abbie enters behind him, followed by Noora and two more of your advisors, who exchange a brief look with you before giving Franco a wary glance. The room feels divided: your side tense, professional; his side relaxed, as if they’re here for afternoon tea.

Noora clears her throat. “Thank you all for coming. We’re here to discuss … the situation between Her Royal Highness and Mr. Colapinto.”

Franco raises his hand like a schoolboy. “Just Franco’s fine.”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes. “I think it’s important that we treat this with the gravity it deserves.”

“Right,” Franco says, his tone playful. “Like a royal summit.”

Ignoring him, you turn to Noora. “What’s our best option? A joint statement? Something definitive?”

Noora nods, producing a folder from her bag. “Yes, we think a mutual statement from both parties would be the most effective way to dispel the rumors. The tone should be clear, respectful, and leave no room for interpretation.”

Franco grins at you. “So, no room for romance?”

You bite back a sigh. “Exactly.”

He leans forward, resting his chin on his hand as if studying you. “Pity. I thought we made a pretty good pair.”

You shift in your seat, folding your hands tightly in front of you. “This isn’t a joke. It’s an issue of public perception, protocol-”

“Protocol,” he repeats, as if tasting the word. “Can’t say I’m big on protocol. Haven’t you heard? I’m dating a princess now. Practically makes me royalty, right? Protocol doesn’t apply to me.”

You shoot him a pointed look. “Protocol applies to everyone.”

“Boring people,” he counters, grinning wider. “Which, by the way, you are not. I don’t buy it.”

You feel your cheeks flush. “I don’t think you understand the stakes here.”

“Oh, I understand perfectly. But, come on …” He gestures to the small group of advisors around the table. “Look at this! Two teams acting like we’re two PR disasters waiting to happen … it’s ridiculous. You would think we were in the middle of an international scandal.”

“We are in the middle of an international scandal,” you say, exasperated. “People think we’re dating. It’s a breach of public trust for both of us-”

He snorts. “You’re talking like I’m some kind of international criminal. Come on, Princess. It’s just a rumor.”

“It’s more than that,” you insist, struggling to keep your voice steady. “This rumor reflects on me, on my family. On Norway.”

He watches you, head tilted, a glint of something unreadable in his eyes. “And do you care?”

You frown, feeling that flush creep back to your cheeks. “Of course I care.”

“No, I mean, do you care about it — us? I mean, the rumor?”

There’s something disarming in the way he says it, like he’s testing you. You can’t help but hesitate, your well-rehearsed words slipping just out of reach.

“It’s my duty,” you finally say, straightening your shoulders, “to uphold my family’s reputation.”

He doesn’t seem impressed. Instead, he shakes his head, a bemused smile on his lips. “You’re so serious. Makes me think I really did pick the right princess.”

Noora coughs, clearly eager to refocus the meeting. “Let’s discuss the actual statement, shall we?”

You nod, relieved to move on, but Franco holds up a hand, eyes still locked on yours. “I just want to say, for the record … I don’t think I’d mind the rumors, if they were true.”

There’s a moment of silence, thick and uncomfortable. You can feel the curious stares of your team, the surprise on Noora’s face, the quiet snickers from Franco’s side.

“Mr. Colapinto,” you say carefully, “this is neither the time nor place for that kind of … remark.”

He shrugs, unbothered. “Who decides that?”

Noora jumps in. “We do. And as such, we have a preliminary draft we’d like to review with both of you. It’s brief and to the point, which is important.”

Abbie leans in, already reading over the statement. “The recent reports of a romantic relationship between Princess Y/N and Franco Colapinto are entirely false and without merit. Both parties are focused on their respective roles and responsibilities and have not been involved in any way that would support these rumors.” She looks up, pleased with herself.

You give an approving nod, glancing at Franco. “Short and factual. Perfect.”

Franco frowns, leaning back in his chair with an exaggerated sigh. “It’s a little … cold, don’t you think?”

“That’s the point,” you say flatly. “We’re supposed to be shutting down the rumors, not fueling them.”

He lifts an eyebrow, eyes gleaming. “How about something more like … while I have great respect for Princess Y/N and have enjoyed our time together, I can confirm that we are, unfortunately, just friends?”

You look at him, horrified. “No. Absolutely not.”

“Oh, come on.” He gives you a devilish grin. “It’s all about the narrative, Princess. People want romance, intrigue. You’re literal royalty — give them a little fairytale.”

You feel your cheeks burn, and it takes everything you have not to snap back at him. “This isn’t some soap opera, Mr. Colapinto.”

“Franco,” he corrects, eyes still dancing with mischief.

Noora clears her throat again. “I think it’s best we stick with the original statement.”

He gives you a mockingly solemn nod. “As you wish, Your Highness.”

You give a small, exasperated sigh, looking back to Noora and Abbie. “If we’re all agreed, can we proceed?”

Abbie glances between you and Franco, as if gauging the tension in the air. “Yes. We’ll finalize the statement this evening and have it released tomorrow morning.”

Franco pushes back his chair, rising to his feet. “Well, I suppose that settles it, then.” He glances down at you, his gaze lingering a bit too long. “Shame, though. This could’ve been fun.”

You fold your arms, giving him a pointed look. “We have very different definitions of fun.”

“Clearly,” he says, his smirk deepening. “But tell me, don’t you ever get tired of all this?” He gestures around at the meeting room, the stacks of paperwork, the solemn faces of your advisors. “The rules, the protocol. Doesn’t it get … dull?”

You purse your lips, resisting the temptation to give him a real answer. “It’s my duty.”

He tilts his head, his expression softening just slightly. “I get duty. But where’s the fun?”

You open your mouth to respond, but the words don’t come. And for a second, just a second, you wonder if he has a point.

Franco’s gaze sharpens as he watches you struggle to respond. And then, to your utter shock, he steps closer, his hand reaching for yours. “Here,” he says, with that sly, teasing smile.

Before you can pull away, he lifts your hand, bringing it to his lips in a slow, deliberate gesture. His eyes hold yours as he brushes his mouth over your knuckles, lingering just long enough to make you feel the heat creeping up your face.

“I promise,” he murmurs, voice low and smooth, “the next time I kiss you, Princess, it’ll be somewhere much more pleasurable.”

You pull your hand back, heart pounding, but he only grins, unbothered, and gives you a playful wink.

“Until next time, Your Highness.”

***

The bar is dimly lit, tucked away on a quiet street where no one knows who you are and, more importantly, no one cares. It’s the perfect place to slip away from the weight of your title, from the headlines, from the rules and the statement that your team is probably drafting up at this very moment. For once, you just want to sit here, nursing a drink, and pretend you’re anyone else.

The whiskey burns as it goes down, but it’s a welcome distraction. You let out a breath, easing back against the bar, feeling some of the tension in your shoulders release. For the first time all day, no one is watching, no one is whispering. You’re just … here.

Until a voice slides into the quiet like a warm breeze. “Didn’t think I’d find royalty in a place like this.”

You don’t even need to look to know it’s him. You don’t turn, but your grip on the glass tightens as Franco slides onto the stool beside you, looking annoyingly pleased with himself.

“What are you doing here?” You ask, not bothering to mask the exasperation in your voice.

“Me?” He says, all innocence. “Just having a drink. Same as you.” He signals the bartender. “Tequila,” he says, then nods at your glass, smirking. “And whatever she’s having.”

You sigh. “Of all the bars in London, you had to pick this one?”

He grins, shameless. “Maybe I just have good taste.”

You roll your eyes. “Highly doubtful.”

He chuckles, unfazed. “Come on, Princess. I know you’re thrilled to see me.”

“Thrilled isn’t exactly the word I’d use.”

He leans in, his voice dropping low enough that it feels like a secret. “What would you use, then?”

You pause, taking a sip of your drink as you consider. “Mildly inconvenienced.”

He laughs at that, a warm, genuine sound that catches you off guard. You try to keep your face impassive, but there’s something disarming about his laughter, something that makes you wonder why it feels like he’s always able to unravel you with so little effort.

“Fine,” he says, leaning his elbow on the bar, mirroring your posture. “Then I’ll just sit here, mildly inconveniencing you until you admit you’re enjoying yourself.”

You scoff. “That’s not going to happen.”

His whiskey arrives, and he raises his glass, clinking it lightly against yours. “Care to bet on that?”

You raise an eyebrow. “Do you always think everything’s a game?”

“Only when it’s fun,” he says, his gaze dropping to your lips. There’s something undeniably bold about the way he watches you, something that sends a little thrill down your spine despite yourself.

You hold his gaze, refusing to back down. “What exactly do you think you’re doing here?”

“I thought that was obvious,” he says, his voice turning softer, more intimate. “I’m trying to get to know you.”

You snort. “Get to know me? I’m pretty sure you just want to use this as an excuse to fuel the rumors.”

“Maybe the rumors are more interesting than you think,” he counters smoothly, sipping his drink. “Or maybe I’m just curious.”

“Curious?” You echo, lifting an eyebrow. “About what?”

“About what a princess does when no one’s watching.” His eyes flash with that familiar glint, and he gives you a lazy, unapologetic smile. “And so far, you don’t disappoint.”

You laugh, but there’s no humor in it. “If you’re trying to charm me, it’s not working.”

“Oh, I don’t need to try,” he says, his voice soft but self-assured. “I just do.”

You shake your head, determined not to let him win this little game. “I don’t think you’re as irresistible as you think you are.”

“Maybe.” He tilts his head, studying you with an infuriating level of focus. “But you’re still here, aren’t you?”

Your retort dies on your lips as his hand moves closer, resting just on the edge of the bar, fingers inching toward yours. It’s subtle, but it sends a pulse of awareness up your arm, and you’re suddenly very aware of how close he is, the warmth radiating from him, the intensity of his gaze as it lingers on you.

You straighten, clearing your throat. “So what’s your endgame here, Franco?”

“No endgame,” he says easily, but there’s a promise in his tone, a flicker in his eyes that makes it hard to believe. “Just wanted a drink with a pretty princess.”

You almost laugh. Almost. “You’re insufferable, you know that?”

“Is that why you’re smiling?” He asks, leaning closer.

You hadn’t realized you were. You quickly straighten your face, but he’s already noticed, that knowing smirk widening as he takes another sip of his drink.

“Relax, Princess. You’re allowed to have fun, too.”

“Define fun,” you say, though you’re painfully aware that you’re actually enjoying this little back-and-forth. It’s dangerous, exhilarating — two things you never let yourself indulge in.

“Fun?” He tilts his head, eyes sparkling. “Fun is you, sitting here, pretending you don’t like me, while secretly hoping I’ll keep talking.”

You roll your eyes. “Delusional.”

“Maybe,” he says, and his hand moves again — this time, resting casually on your thigh under the bar. The touch is light, but it’s enough to make your breath hitch, enough to make you momentarily forget the carefully constructed boundaries you’ve set.

“Franco,” you warn, though your voice is less steady than you’d like.

He raises an eyebrow, his fingers tracing a slow, almost absentminded circle against your leg. “Problem?”

You don’t answer, but he takes your silence as permission, his fingers edging just a little higher, teasingly close, as if he’s daring you to stop him. And you should. You know you should. But for some reason, you don’t.

He leans in, his breath warm against your ear. “Tell me to stop, Princess. And I will.”

Your mind races, every sensible thought colliding with the thrill that’s building inside you. You swallow, feeling the weight of his gaze, the heat of his touch.

“Why would I tell you to stop,” you say quietly, your voice barely more than a whisper, “if I don’t want you to?”

He grins, satisfied. “Now we’re getting somewhere.”

Before you can respond, he’s closing the distance, his hand slipping higher under your dress, his thumb brushing slow circles that make your heart race. It’s reckless and wild and nothing you’d ever thought you’d do — but in this moment, it feels impossible to resist.

The next few minutes are a blur of whispered words and stolen glances, your resolve slipping with every soft touch, every cocky grin he throws your way. You barely register the decision to leave the bar until you’re outside, standing on the quiet street, the night air cool against your flushed skin.

“Your place or mine?” He asks, his voice a playful drawl.

You hesitate, a thousand reasons to walk away tumbling through your mind. But when you look at him — at that unrelenting confidence, the challenge in his eyes — you feel your control waver. Just this once, you tell yourself. Just this once, you’ll let yourself break the rules.

“Yours,” you say, surprised at the steadiness of your voice.

He doesn’t waste a second, taking your hand and leading you down the street, his grip warm and solid, grounding you even as your heart races. You follow him, pulse pounding with each step, until you’re standing outside his hotel room door, the reality of what you’re doing hitting you in a rush.

But then he’s looking at you again, that mischievous smile softening into something more intimate, and your doubts fade. He opens the door, and you step inside, feeling as though you’re crossing some invisible line.

The room is dim, the city lights casting a faint glow through the windows. He steps closer, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch gentle, almost reverent, and for a moment, you see a different side of him — something softer, deeper.

“Last chance to change your mind,” he murmurs, his voice low.

You meet his gaze, feeling the weight of his words. But instead of answering, you lean up, closing the distance between you, your lips brushing against his in a kiss that’s tentative at first, then deepening as he wraps his arms around you, pulling you close.

And for the first time in as long as you can remember, you don’t think about duty, or protocol, or anything else. In this moment, there’s only you and him and the quiet thrill of finally letting go.

***

francolapinto

Liked by f1wagupdates, royalwatchers, and 714,925 others

francolapinto all the rumours are true

View all 3,816 comments

pintobean everyone called me crazy for believing the articles but look who’s laughing now!

coca-colapinto because as much as i love franco, there’s no way i was about to believe he could’ve pulled a whole ass princess

pintobean this is a lesson not to underestimate his rizz

coca-colapinto please never say that unironically again

f1wagupdates pray for their PR teams, whatever they’re earning is not nearly enough 🙏

gridgossip franco had exactly nine races to turn the paddock upside down and boy did he not disappoint

f1wagupdates who needs an f1 seat in 2025 when you can have a throne?

***

The morning arrives far too soon, sunlight streaming through the hotel curtains and casting a warm glow over the rumpled sheets. You barely have time to blink yourself awake when a loud, frantic banging rattles the door, shaking you out of the haze of last night.

Franco groans beside you, his arm lazily draped over your waist. “You expecting someone?”

You’re too comfortable, too wrapped up in the warmth of his skin and the lingering bliss to even think straight. “Not … exactly.”

The pounding persists, and then voices — urgent, unmistakable voices — filter through the door. “Franco! Y/N! Are you in there? It’s urgent!”

Your eyes widen, a flash of panic cutting through the sleepiness. Franco doesn’t seem fazed. He barely lifts his head off the pillow, his hand lazily running down your spine as he mutters, “They’ll go away.”

“I’m not so sure about that.” You push yourself up slightly, glancing over the bed, finding discarded clothes and a vague sense of regret somewhere on the floor. The pounding grows louder, and finally, Franco sits up, rubbing his eyes, his hair adorably disheveled.

He stretches, glancing at you with a lazy grin. “What do you think? Just a few more minutes or …”

“Open the door!” Comes a familiar, exasperated voice from the hallway. You recognize it immediately — Noora.

Franco’s eyes meet yours, amusement glinting there. “Looks like we don’t have a choice.”

Reluctantly, he pulls himself out of bed, grabbing a pair of pants from the floor and slipping them on with a casual ease that only makes your heartbeat quicken. He tosses you a smirk over his shoulder before heading to the door.

As he opens it, a whirlwind of people floods into the room — Noora, Abbie, and a few more members of both your PR teams, all of them looking like they’re seconds away from losing their minds.

“Oh my god,” Noora gasps, her gaze darting between you and Franco, her face turning several shades of pink. “This … this is-”

“Completely reckless!” Abbie finishes, giving you a look that’s half shock, half scandalized admiration. “What were you two thinking?”

Franco crosses his arms, unfazed. “Good morning to you too.”

One of Williams’ other PR officers steps forward, looking ready to faint. “Franco, do you have any idea what you’ve done? Those photos … your Instagram …”

Franco grins, leaning casually against the doorframe. “What, people are talking?”

“Talking?” Noora squeaks, her voice an octave higher than usual. She glares at you, her eyes wide, almost pleading. “This is a disaster! Do you understand what you’ve done to our schedule, our statement plan? And the … the-” Her gaze flickers to the faint marks on your neck, and her knees buckle. Abbie reaches out quickly, guiding her to a chair.

“Maybe we overreacted,” Abbie mutters, though she doesn’t take her eyes off you. “Or maybe we didn’t react enough.”

You feel a rush of heat flood your face as everyone’s gaze lands on you. Franco catches it and gives you a cheeky wink, clearly enjoying the chaos he’s created.

“Look,” you say, trying to keep your voice steady, “maybe we got a little carried away, but it’s … it’s not like we did anything wrong.”

“Nothing wrong?” Noora says, her voice faint as she studies the marks on your neck again. “You … you have no idea how this looks, do you?”

Franco, completely unfazed, strolls over to the mirror above the dresser. He takes a long look at his own reflection, tilting his head to admire the scratches and darkening bruises scattered across his skin. “Looks like a good night to me.”

Your PR teams collectively groan, and you have to bite your lip to keep from laughing. Franco catches your eye in the mirror, and the mischievous spark there makes it impossible not to crack a smile.

“Franco, this isn’t a joke!” One of his managers snaps, practically pulling at his hair. “Do you know how many calls we’ve received since you posted those photos?”

Franco shrugs, giving them a lazy grin. “Then turn off your phone. Worked for me.”

Another round of exasperated sighs fills the room, and you can’t help but feel a twinge of sympathy for your PR team. Not enough, though, to actually feel bad.

Noora steps forward, hands on her hips, looking at you with an expression that’s somehow both sympathetic and stern. “Your Highness, this is … unprecedented. We need to issue a statement immediately, clarify this situation-”

“Or not,” Franco interrupts, his tone far too nonchalant. He turns away from the mirror, crossing his arms. “Honestly, I think the people like a little mystery, don’t you?”

Noora gives him a look that could wilt flowers. “This isn’t about what the people like, Mr. Colapinto. It’s about protecting reputations.”

“Oh, so we’re doing that now?” Franco glances at you, his smile playful. “Funny, last night I didn’t get the sense that the two of us in this room were all that worried about reputations.”

Your face flushes, and you shoot him a look that’s half reprimand, half reluctant amusement. “You’re not helping.”

He shrugs, unbothered. “Who said I was trying to help?”

Abbie lets out a long sigh, rubbing her temples. “Can we at least agree that this … whatever this is, stays here? Quietly?”

Franco raises an eyebrow, looking at you with a smirk. “You hear that, Princess? Quietly. Doesn’t sound like much fun to me.”

You swallow, trying to ignore the way his gaze makes your stomach flip. “Maybe some things should be quiet,” you say, though your voice sounds unconvincing even to you.

Noora, still looking a bit wobbly, clears her throat. “Please, can we just … make a plan?”

Franco sighs, feigning disappointment. “Fine. Make your plan. But don’t expect me to follow it.”

Before anyone can respond, he gives you one last smirk and strides over to the door, pulling it open. “In fact, I think it’s about time we had the room to ourselves, don’t you think?”

The PR teams exchange panicked glances, but they don’t have much choice as Franco gives them a not-so-subtle wave toward the exit. Noora opens her mouth to protest, but Abbie gently ushers her toward the door, casting one last look at you that’s a mix of concern and reluctant approval.

“We’ll be in touch,” Abbie says, but there’s a hint of resignation in her tone, as if she knows that whatever control they thought they had is slipping fast.

Once the last of them has been herded out, Franco shuts the door with a decisive click. He turns back to you, a wicked gleam in his eyes, and before you can process it, he’s crossing the room, closing the distance between you in seconds.

“You know,” he says, his voice low and teasing, “I think we gave them quite a show.”

You roll your eyes, but you can’t stop the smile that tugs at your lips. “We? That was mostly you.”

He laughs softly, reaching out to brush a strand of hair from your face. “You didn’t exactly object.”

You’re about to respond, but he doesn’t give you the chance. His hands find your waist, and suddenly you’re being guided backward, the mattress hitting the back of your legs as he eases you down. His gaze is intense, his smirk fading into something more serious, more intent.

“Franco,” you murmur, but the way he’s looking at you steals the rest of your words.

He leans in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, then to the corner of your mouth. His voice is barely more than a whisper as he murmurs, “We’re not done yet, Princess.”

Your heart races as he shifts, his hands warm against your skin, his weight pressing you back into the bed. And as he leans down, capturing your lips in a kiss that’s somehow both playful and possessive, you realize that whatever the consequences, whatever scandal might follow … right now, none of it matters.

Right now, there’s only him, the quiet thrill of his touch, and the feeling of finally — finally — giving in.

***

The night sky over Las Vegas glitters with a million lights, bright enough to drown out the stars, as the drivers’ parade winds down the track. The grandstands are packed, the excitement in the air palpable even before the race has started.

Franco is perched atop the back of a bus, arms folded, his easy smirk in place as he surveys the flashing cameras and cheering fans. Beside him stands Lewis Hamilton, calm and collected as always, with that practiced smile of someone who’s done this a thousand times.

Franco nudges Lewis with his elbow, grinning. “So, you know we’re both basically royalty now, right?”

Lewis chuckles, giving him a sideways look. “Oh, yeah? What makes you think that?”

Franco shrugs, looking as if he’s contemplating something serious for a split second, then tilts his head. “Well, you’ve got the knighthood, Sir Hamilton,” he says, drawing out the words with an exaggerated British accent. “And I’ve got, well …” He grins, his eyebrows waggling suggestively. “The princess.”

Lewis laughs, a rich, full sound. “Ah, I see. So you’re actually out here trying to one-up my knighthood?”

Franco clutches his chest dramatically. “Exactly. I mean, not to make it a competition, but I’m basically a prince now. Which, if we’re being technical, puts me a bit above you in rank.”

Lewis lets out a snort, rolling his eyes. “Shut up, man. I’m a knight, not a court jester.”

Franco raises his hands in mock surrender, his grin widening. “Hey, I’m just stating the facts. I’m sure knighthood’s very nice, but I think there’s something to be said for having a princess.”

Lewis shakes his head, trying not to laugh. “So it’s true, then?”

For the first time, Franco’s smirk softens into something else, something quieter. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone, glancing at the screen with an expression that’s unmistakably fond. He’s not looking at Lewis now, or at the cheering fans, or even the flashing cameras around them. His gaze is locked on his phone, where an image fills the screen.

It’s you, cozy on the couch with your Cavalier King Charles Spaniel in your lap, a warm blanket wrapped around you, hair falling casually over your shoulder. You’re looking straight into the camera, a relaxed smile on your face, and there’s an almost surprising intimacy in the photo — the kind that doesn’t come from a staged royal portrait but from a simple, real moment. It’s the type of photo someone only sends to someone they care about.

Franco doesn’t say anything right away. He just stares at the image, his thumb tracing lightly over the screen, as if he’s savoring the private moment before he has to lock his phone away for the race.

He nods, almost to himself. “Yeah. It’s true.”

Lewis studies him slowly, an almost invisible smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Didn’t think I’d see the day,” he murmurs, a touch of amusement there. “Guess you’re growing up, huh?”

Franco finally looks up, chuckling. “Speak for yourself, man. I’m still a kid at heart.”

Lewis raises an eyebrow. “A kid at heart who’s dating a princess? That’s a combination I didn’t see coming.”

“Neither did I, to be honest.” Franco leans back, stretching his arms out along the edge of the bus, still clutching his phone in one hand. “One minute, I’m just minding my business, and the next … boom.” He snaps his fingers. “The entire world decides we’re dating. Didn’t even know her name before then.”

Lewis chuckles. “And now you’re on your phone looking at pictures she sent you. You’ve come a long way.”

Franco glances down at the picture again, a private smile playing on his lips. “Guess I have.”

The parade continues, the roar of the crowd swelling around them as they pass another section of the grandstand, but it all feels distant. The conversation falls into a comfortable silence, and Franco finds himself thinking back over the past few weeks, the whirlwind of rumors and statements, and then … the quiet moments that somehow followed.

Lewis studies him, eyes narrowing in that perceptive way he has. “So … you and her. Is it, like, official?”

Franco lets out a short laugh. “Are you kidding? This is Her Royal Highness we’re talking about. There’s no ‘official’ until we’ve been courting for at least a year. There’s procedure and … what’s the word she loves to use? Protocol.”

“Protocol.” Lewis grins. “That sounds … exactly like what you hate.”

“Oh, believe me.” Franco laughs, shaking his head. “She’s been trying to teach me, but I don’t think I’ve followed protocol a single time. I mean, she actually tried to tell me what utensils I should use at dinner. Like, why does it matter?”

“Didn’t go well, huh?”

“Let’s just say I’ve decided that those tiny forks are optional.” Franco sighs, pocketing his phone. “But that’s her. She takes it all so seriously. Makes me want to take it seriously too, in some strange way.”

Lewis tilts his head, watching him. “I get that. That’s what happens when someone really means something to you.” He pauses, as if weighing his words. “So, she’s watching tonight?”

Franco nods, a flash of pride evident in his smile. “She sent me this right before we went out for the parade.” He taps his pocket, where his phone is hidden now. “Said she’d be watching. Don’t know how she manages to get away with it, with her schedule planned out months in advance, but she’s … creative.”

Lewis laughs, shaking his head. “The lengths you two go to. Like some kind of fairytale romance.”

The bus they’re on takes another slow turn around the parade route, the lights of Las Vegas casting a surreal glow over the scene. The streets are packed with fans, all of them waving and shouting, and Franco finds himself wondering if you’re watching this right now. He imagines you, curled up on the couch with that fluffy little dog of yours, laughing at the absurdity of it all.

Franco smiles. “Yeah, I guess it really is.”

[arminsumi]

Betting your girl's mouth on a basketball game was crazy — and Suguru was all for it.

After taking a loss that may or may not have been deliberate, jock!Suguru wears a dirty grin on his face while watching you suck his best friends virgin cock like a good girl, loving the nasty wet noises you make while slurping up and down nerd!Satoru's pulsing shaft, slowly stroking himself to the sight of you on your knees, making cock disappear in your mouth like magic.

And Satoru — the poor boy — is losing his mind because he's never felt a woman's lips around his dummy big cock before. He used to tell you that sex is beneath him — now he's throwing his head back, gritting his pearly whites, curling his toes and biting his bottom lip 'till it's all red, totally surrendering to your little mouth — it's just so funny to you, 'cause he's been the know-it-all bastard telling you "... you're just Suguru's slut. If you paid as much attention in class as you did to my best friend's dick, maybe you'd amount to something. Do you even remember what we learned yesterday? Exactly. But I do — that's why I'm the top student and you're just — "

Bla bla bla... Satoru's now showing you how much precum his dummy big cock leaks — it's a sticky mess oozing out of his tip all over your quivering tongue. You looked up at him and winked, and he seethed inside because god he's hated you for so long but now your lips are wrapped around his cock and your mouth is taking him to heaven.

He's whining, biting into his fist, knees all wobbly. the texture of your tongue drives him nuts — then it clicks. oh, this is why my best friend is obsessed with his girlfriend. This is why he can't shut up and stop oversharing his sex life with me.

'Cause heaven really does exist on her tongue.

"fuck, slow down..." Satoru tries to ease his cock out your mouth, feeling his orgasm threatening to erupt at any moment.

But Suguru pushes you back down on his cock, filling your cheeks again, "nah, keep going baby, he's gonna cum — aren't you Satoru? You're gonna cum in my girl's mouth, huh? Come on, big boy, I know how long you've wanted this. Fill this little slut's mouth with your cum."

Those taunting words push him over the edge. His heavy balls tighten up as he feels you suckling his swollen head, and then white ropes come bursting out.

"Ahh—gh! Fuck... nn!"

Satoru's legs give out and he moans like you've never heard a man moan before, releasing all the cum he's worked up for you like he's been waiting years to do this. Actually, he has been waiting years — waiting patiently to find an opportunity to make your jaw ache and eyes well up with tears.

"Baby, you gonna swallow my best friend's cum f'me?" Suguru encourages, stroking his cock lazily against your cheek now.

He watches you compliantly swallow Satoru's seed, and Satoru twitches at the sight.

Huffing, Satoru comes down from his high and brushes his white wispy bangs out of his eyes. He's glaring down at your mouth.

"... still fucking hate you... " Satoru mutters to you in a voice still shaky with the after-effects of his orgasm.

"I still hate you, too." you smile back at him.

His heart flutters and bottom lip twitches. He can't stop staring at your lips, your eyes, your hips, your thighs.

"Ah, Satoru, quit your act — you're the one who proposed this idea in the first place."

You went red in the face. It was Satoru's idea? The mister goody-two-shoes, know-it-all, all A+++ report cards, 'sex is beneath me' Satoru?

"Huh? I thought this was your idea..." but before you can express your surprise you're already feeling Suguru nudge his cockhead against your lips.

"Sh sh, now it's my turn, baby. Open wide."

[creamflix]

I LOVE BAD BITCHES THAT’S MY FUCKIN’ PROBLEM! ၄၃ satosugu x female reader

18+ content, minors or blank blogs don't interact. unestablished relationship, roommate arrangement. bisexual! satosugu, top! suguru + switch! satoru. threesome. humiliation, degradation, dirty talk. m. masturbation. exhibitionism, slight voyeurism. fingering. orgasm control + denial. finger sucking. sloppy makeouts + three at once. oral (f. recieving) + squirting, clit/pussy slapping. riding. double penetration. face sitting. overstimulation. prostate stimulation. accidental love confession during the heat of it all. weirdly happy ending? - rl's established

thank you so much for 1OOO followers you lil freaks divas. this took so much time to write lol, i hope you all see the vision. this work was inspired by this smut audio by augustinthewinter. the link takes you to a re-upload on spotify [for easier listening], and sadly not the audio posted by the original creator. do your part and please support him and his work here <3 

— masterlist here ☆

you’re pretty sure you’ll be fine if you just ignore the tension radiating from your bed behind you.

you’re adjusting your eyeliner in the mirror, a faint smile on your lips, trying to focus on the excitement of the night ahead.

still, the weight of suguru’s silent gaze feels like a steel rod pressing against your back.

every now and then, you catch his reflection in the mirror, arms folded, brow furrowed slightly, watching your every move without saying a word.

and then, of course, satoru comes crashing in, slinging the door open like he owns the place. he practically throws himself onto the bed next to suguru, his excitement bursting out like it usually does.

“hey, hey, what if the three of us got wasted and binged some trashy netflix show? i’m thinking love is blind — oh, wait, you’re —” he blinks, taking in your outfit.

his voice trails off, and his expression turns from bright to bewildered as he glances from you to suguru, then back again.

“wait, where are you going dressed like that?”

you sigh, knowing there’s no way you’re escaping this.

“i… have a date,” you admit, smoothing out the fabric of your outfit. you catch suguru’s eyes in the mirror, and he raises an eyebrow, his arms still crossed, jaw set tight.

“oh?” suguru’s voice is cool, almost too calm, but there’s an edge underneath that doesn’t escape you.

“does he know you live with two men?”

you swallow, fiddling with your hair as you avoid his eyes. “well… no, i mean, it just never came up.”

satoru lets out a low whistle, leaning back on his hands, giving you a once-over that’s half-impressed, half-amused.

“so you’re planning to let him find out on his own when he walks in here and sees us? that’s bold.”

you roll your eyes, though you feel your cheeks heat up under their combined scrutiny. “it’s not like that! it’s just… i don’t know. i didn’t think it mattered.”

“doesn’t matter, huh?” suguru’s voice is low, almost a growl, and he stands up, slowly, crossing the room until he’s standing just behind you. he’s close enough that you can feel his breath on the back of your neck, his reflection towering over you in the mirror.

“so, what’s he like?” he asks, voice dripping with an intensity that makes your heart race a little faster.

you open your mouth to respond, but satoru’s laugh cuts you off. “yeah, yeah, tell us! tall, dark, and handsome, or short, plain, and boring?”

you bite back a grin, feeling the tension lighten just slightly with satoru’s teasing. “he’s nice. a gentleman, really. you’d probably like him,” you say, attempting a casual tone, though you can feel suguru’s stare growing sharper.

“a gentleman?” suguru scoffs, his lips curling into a smirk. “think he’d still be one if he knew you had two roommates watching out for you?”

“maybe he’d be intimidated,” satoru chimes in, grinning. he gets up from the bed, crossing the room to stand by suguru. “i mean, c’mon. anyone would feel the pressure, having to impress not just their date but her two very intimidating roommates.”

“intimidating?” you laugh, glancing between them. “i doubt anyone would find either of you intimidating.”

“oh, so that’s how it is,” suguru murmurs, stepping even closer, his voice a low rumble against your ear.

“you think we’re harmless?”

your heart thuds, pulse quickening as he leans in. “you know i didn’t say that,” you reply, trying to keep your voice steady.

suguru’s close enough now that you can feel the heat of his body against yours, and there’s an undeniable thrill that makes your head spin just a bit.

“do you really think he can keep up with you?” he murmurs, his eyes scanning your face in the mirror. “think he’s enough?”

you don’t answer, mostly because you’re not sure how to.

suguru’s words linger in your mind, twisting in ways that make you hesitate, and you feel satoru’s gaze on you too, a spark of something mischievous and knowing in his expression.

“you know, it wouldn’t kill you to let us meet him,” satoru suggests, his voice a lazy drawl that only adds to the heat building in the room. “just to make sure he’s, y'know, worth your time.”

you bite your lip, glancing between the two of them in the mirror, feeling the weight of both their gazes, the way their words seem to dig deeper than they should.

“why do i feel like the two of you would scare him off?”

“maybe because we would,” suguru murmurs, his voice like a dark promise. “if he’s not up to standard.”

satoru grins, leaning closer, his voice dropping to a whisper.

“or maybe we just want to keep you to ourselves.”

your heart skips a beat, and you’re sure your face must be burning.

“you two are unbelievable,” you manage, trying to laugh it off, though the sound comes out more breathless than you’d like.

you feel your stomach drop the second you realize satoru's got your phone. he'd snatched it up casually, thumb already working its way across the screen, entering your password like he's done it a million times. he lets out a strangled sort of noise as he stares down at the screen, his wide blue eyes taking in whatever he's found with an expression of pure shock.

"uh, what exactly have you been watching here?" satoru barely suppresses a snicker as he holds up the phone for suguru to see.

"‘getting used by my two roommates 'til i can’t walk?’ really?" he reads the title, drawing out every word in that slow, teasing tone he loves to use. "didn’t know you were into…this."

suguru’s dark eyes flash as he looks from the screen to you. he tilts his head, the corner of his mouth lifting in that signature mix of irritation and amusement. "that's why you’ve been ignoring us, huh? too busy fantasizing to even tell us you had a date tonight?”

“it’s not —" you start, but suguru's hand is already at your waist, pulling you into his lap, effortlessly pinning you against him. your back’s pressed against his chest, and he’s got you facing the mirror, the smirk in his eyes only growing sharper as he settles you firmly on top of him.

“stay still," suguru murmurs, his voice a low hum, sending a shiver up your spine. "i wanna see you finish your makeup. maybe you’ll explain what’s going on here while you do."

satoru, still grinning, swipes further through your history, leaning closer with a loud, exaggerated gasp. "ohoho, what’s this? ‘my roommates won’t let me leave until i’ve begged them’? suguru, she’s got a whole list of ‘em!”

“tell me, sweetheart,” suguru’s voice drips with mock sweetness, lips brushing the shell of your ear. “are you disappointed it’s only a video?”

you try to fight the blush threatening to paint your cheeks, attempting to focus on your eyeliner, but his hand at your hip keeps your body flush against him, heat radiating off him in waves. “you know i didn’t… it’s just a video, okay?”

“just a video, huh?” suguru’s thumb strokes your waist, and you catch his intense gaze in the mirror, dark and heavy-lidded, roaming over every flustered inch of your face. “don’t act so innocent.”

satoru snickers, flipping through more tabs on your phone. “so, when were you planning on telling this poor date of yours that you’ve got two guys in the apartment with you? two very protective guys, at that?”

“satoru —”

“nah, ’s cute.” satoru gives a little shrug, glancing at suguru with a grin. “she thinks she can just go on some little date and come home without us findin' out what she's been doin'.”

suguru’s grip tightens, forcing you to keep your gaze fixed in the mirror as he presses his lips close to your ear, voice low and dangerously smooth. “you like being watched that badly, huh? well, i’ll make sure you don’t even get a chance to squirm.”

you’re struggling to focus, trying to keep your hand steady as you bring the eyeliner back to your lash line, but it’s almost impossible with suguru’s iron grip keeping you firmly on his lap, his arms wrapped around you like you might escape at any second. his breath skims against the back of your neck, and he chuckles softly each time your hand trembles, knowing full well what he's doing to you.

meanwhile, satoru’s barely holding it together on the edge of the bed, and he’s not even trying to hide it. he’s got one hand slowly working his dick over his pants, the other still gripping your phone as he reads off your search history, letting out a low, exaggerated groan between words.

“let’s see… ‘getting absolutely used by my two roommates’…” satoru moans out the title, every word slipping from his lips laced with a mix of teasing and raw need.

his eyes flicker over to you, heavy-lidded, a wicked smirk creeping onto his face. “y'know, you could’ve just asked, sweetheart.”

you shift in suguru's lap instinctively, your body craving some kind of friction, some release for the ache pooling between your legs. but his hold only tightens, hands splaying over your thighs to keep you completely still.

“what do you think you’re doing?” suguru’s voice is low, dangerous, his gaze dark as he watches you through the mirror. “i told you to keep still. or do you need a reminder of who’s in control here?”

the demand in his tone leaves no room for defiance, but your pulse quickens, the heat radiating from his chest pressing into your back as he keeps you locked against him. you bite down on your lip, doing everything you can to keep yourself composed, but your voice comes out in a breathy whisper. "s-suguru… please, i just —"

“‘please,’ huh? sounds like you’re already begging,” he murmurs, lips grazing the curve of your neck, sending a jolt of anticipation straight to your cunt. his fingers trail lightly over your hips, teasing, but keeping you pinned firmly in place.

“but begging isn’t going to get you what you want tonight.”

satoru lets out a soft laugh, the sound melting into a quiet groan as he slips his hand into his pants, finally giving himself the relief he’s been aching for. “oh, don’t worry, i think she’s getting everything she wanted, alright,” he says between breaths, his eyes flickering between you and suguru with that playful glint that drives you wild.

he jerks himself slowly, deliberately, his breath catching as he reads off another title from your history, voice turning breathy as his hand works himself harder.

“this one’s good… ‘roommate makes me sit still while i drip for him.’ god, you’ve got a real filthy mind, don’t cha?”

your cheeks burn as you try to keep your gaze fixed on your reflection, hands shaking as you lift the mascara wand, desperate for some semblance of normalcy. but your efforts are futile, every word they throw at you stoking the heat building in your cunt, making it harder and harder to focus.

“don’t worry, sweetheart,” suguru’s voice is a rough whisper, his lips curling into a smirk as he catches your gaze in the mirror. “we’re just giving you what you’ve been craving all along.”

satoru’s moans fill the room, breath hitching each time his hand slides down his dick, the rhythm picking up as his eyes darken with lust. he’s not even hiding his arousal anymore, not holding back, his gaze burning as he watches the two of you in the mirror.

“c’mon, 'guru, stop teasin' her. hike up that damn dress, let’s see what she’s hiding under there.”

suguru’s eyes meet yours in the mirror, the glint in them both dangerous and amused. he moves slowly, his hands sliding down to the hem of your dress, lifting it inch by inch, fingers brushing over your thighs, making your skin tingle as he exposes more of you. he lets out a quiet hum of approval as he tugs your dress up to your waist, leaving you sitting there, fully exposed, save for the thin fabric of your panties.

“these are cute,” suguru murmurs, voice low and teasing as he hooks a finger into the waistband of your panties, pulling them down with agonizing slowness, letting them fall to the floor. he lets his hand trail back up, grazing the inside of your thigh, making you tremble with anticipation. “don’t even think about moving, sweetheart. if you mess up your makeup, ’m stopping.”

you swallow hard, nodding, feeling your pulse throb as his fingers dip lower, brushing against your already-sensitive clit. the touch is feather-light, almost too soft, and it leaves you aching for more.

satoru groans from the bed, his hand moving faster as he watches you, his reflection in the mirror every bit as unrestrained as his tone. “that’s it, sugu'. make her beg. let her feel what she’s been fantasizing about this whole time.”

you force yourself to focus on your blush, lifting the brush to your cheeks, trying to keep your hand steady even as suguru’s fingers start moving in slow, deliberate circles against your clit. the pleasure sparks through you, making it nearly impossible to concentrate, and you can feel your cheeks burning, your breathing quickening with every movement of his hand.

“s-sugu… please… don’t stop,” you manage, voice barely more than a whisper, laced with desperation as you fight to keep your grip on the brush. “please… i’ll do anything.”

he chuckles, low and taunting, leaning closer to your ear, his fingers pressing down just a little harder. “then keep your hands steady, doll. if you want me to keep goin', you better not mess this up.”

but it’s useless; between suguru’s teasing touch and satoru’s moans filling the room, your hands are already trembling, and the brush slips, leaving a streak of blush too high on your cheek, too heavy, ruining the carefully crafted look you’d been working on.

suguru notices instantly, his eyes narrowing, a mocking smirk on his lips as he catches your mistake in the mirror.

“well, look at that. can’t even follow simple instructions, can you?” he tsks, pulling his fingers away, leaving you aching, desperate, empty.

“n-no, sugu, please —” you stammer, voice raw with need, looking at him through the mirror, eyes pleading. “please, i’ll fix it, i swear. just don’t stop, please… i need it, i need you —”

satoru laughs, still stroking himself, his voice thick with pleasure as he watches you beg. “she’s real desperate for it, 'ruru. look at her, practically falling apart from just a little teasing.”

suguru’s gaze is unyielding, his smirk growing as he leans in, his breath hot against your skin. “then maybe you should’ve tried harder to keep still,” he murmurs, his tone dripping with mock disappointment. "maybe i should let you sit here and watch instead. see what happens when you don’t listen.”

your heart pounds, every nerve in your body on fire, and you’re barely even thinking when you grab his wrist, pulling his hand back to where you need him most.

“please, suguru,” you beg, voice thick with desperation. “i’ll do anything… i’ll fix it, just… please touch me. don’t leave me like this.”

satoru’s groans are growing louder, filling the room with the heat of his breathy, drawn-out moans as he watches the scene unfolding in the mirror.

“yeah, sugu',” he mutters, hand working faster over his dick, his eyes trained on your reflection. “spread those pretty folds f'me. lemme see her fall apart.”

without a moment’s hesitation, suguru’s fingers grip your thighs, spreading your legs wider, baring you completely in front of the mirror, his hand moving down to part your slick folds with calculated ease. you gasp, your cheeks burning as you take in the sight — your own reflection, flushed and needy, legs open, your slick glistening in the low light. suguru’s eyes flick to the mirror, catching your gaze, smirking as he takes in the mess you’re making on his lap.

“look at that,” suguru murmurs, voice low and edged with satisfaction. his fingers slip between your folds, gathering the wetness that’s been dripping down onto him, his smirk only deepening as he holds his slick-coated fingers up in the mirror, showing you just how worked up you are. “you’re soaking me, sweetheart. did you really expect me to stay calm with you squirming like this?”

“s-sugu…” you whimper, feeling yourself clench as his fingers dance between your folds, teasing but not quite giving you what you’re aching for. every brush of his skin against yours sends another wave of heat through you, and your head falls back against his shoulder, lips parted in silent desperation.

“such a messy girl,” he continues, pressing a single finger into you, slow and deliberate, making you feel every inch as he slides in. “this what you wanted? to end up spread open, on display for us?”

you can barely form words, your mind hazy with need, hips instinctively rolling against his hand despite his warning to stay still. “yes… yes, please…”

satoru’s moans grow louder as he watches you, the slick sound of his hand stroking himself filling the room. “fuck, look at her, suguru,” he pants, voice thick with arousal. “all pretty 'n desperate, just like she’s been dreaming about.” his eyes fall shut, his hand moving faster as he chases his high, the sight of you enough to send him over the edge. his hips jerk forward as he cums, his body trembling, a low, satisfied groan escaping his lips as he rides out his release.

suguru only smirks, his gaze never leaving your reflection, watching your every reaction with a dark, predatory satisfaction. “see that?” he murmurs, his fingers moving in and out at an agonizingly slow pace, just enough to keep you on edge but not enough to let you cum.

“even satoru couldn’t keep himself together, and here you are, makin' a mess all over my lap.” he chuckles, a teasing glint in his eyes. “tell me, sweetheart, did you really think i wouldn’t get turned on by seeing you like this? so desperate, so needy?”

“i… i didn’t think…” you stammer, the words catching in your throat as his finger curls inside you, hitting that spot that has you seeing stars.

“didn’t think?” suguru’s voice is a low, dangerous hum, his other hand slipping up to wrap lightly around your throat, holding you firmly in place. “then maybe you should’ve thought a little harder.”

satoru practically stumbles forward, his legs still shaky, breath coming in quick, uneven gasps as he moves closer. he’s got that pleading look in his eyes, the one that’s rare, the one that only comes out when he’s truly desperate. resting his head against suguru’s shoulder, he lets out a soft, shuddering breath, voice low and needy as he murmurs, “suguru… let me taste her. please.”

suguru’s lips curl into a smirk, clearly reveling in the control he holds over both of you. he doesn’t respond right away, just looks at you through the mirror, dark eyes glinting with a mix of amusement and something far more possessive.

“hear that, sweetheart?” he murmurs, dipping his fingers back between your folds, swirling them slowly, thoroughly, gathering every bit of slick as he teases you with languid strokes. “even satoru can’t resist you.”

you gasp, body shivering as his fingers press against you, teasing the sensitive spot that has you arching in his lap, barely able to keep your head straight. suguru’s hand is relentless, moving with a torturous slowness that leaves you aching, dripping, clinging to the last bit of control you have left.

then, with deliberate care, suguru pulls his fingers back, coated in your slick, and holds them up in front of satoru’s lips, his gaze hard and commanding. “go on, then. taste her.”

satoru’s eyes darken with unrestrained hunger as he stares at suguru’s fingers, coated with the evidence of your arousal. without hesitation, he parts his lips, leaning in to take suguru’s fingers into his mouth, eyes fluttering closed as he sucks gently, his tongue swirling around suguru’s fingers, tasting you fully. he moans, soft and low, savoring the taste, his body shuddering as he licks every trace of slick from suguru’s skin, desperate, greedy.

“fuck, she tastes so good,” he murmurs, voice thick, almost reverent, as he licks his lips, leaning in closer to you, his gaze heated. “didn’t know you could be this sweet.”

suguru chuckles softly, watching satoru with a mixture of satisfaction and amusement, his fingers finding their way back between your folds, slipping in with ease, now even more eager to tease you, to push you right to the edge and keep you there.

“well, you heard him, sweetheart. seems like we’re both a little addicted to you,” he murmurs, his voice a low, velvety taunt, his breath hot against your ear. “you’d better get used to this — having both of us right where you want us. or, should i say, right where we want you?”

you’re lost in the haze of it all, every shred of control slipping as you feel yourself practically begging, voice breaking with need. “please, sugu… 'toru… i need… just, please, do something — anything,” you gasp, head tilting back, completely vulnerable under their gaze. "can't take it anymore."

satoru’s hand slips around suguru’s shoulder, and he leans in, pressing a soft kiss to suguru’s neck, lips brushing against his skin as he murmurs, “c’mon, sugu, don’t be so mean to her.” he lets his teeth graze just slightly, a playful nip that’s more coaxing than demanding. “just look at her, desperate for us, dripping all over you. can’t you give her a little taste of what she’s been begging for?”

suguru’s gaze flickers between you and satoru, a dark smile on his lips, but you can see the way his resolve begins to soften under satoru’s coaxing. his grip loosens just enough, giving you a chance to scramble up, your legs feeling like jelly as he finally lets you go. he stands, smirking down at you with a hunger that makes you shiver, and gestures for you to sit back on satoru’s lap.

the vanity chair feels cold beneath you, but the warmth of satoru’s chest pressed against your back is intoxicating, his hands coming down to rest on your thighs, spreading them apart. he leans in close, his breath hot against your ear as he whispers, “thaaat’s it, baby, open up for sugu. let him see how pretty you are.”

you whimper as you feel suguru’s fingers trailing up your inner thigh, eyes locked on cunt as he kneels down between your legs, his gaze dark and unyielding, filled with that same possessive hunger you’ve come to crave. his hands settle on your thighs, tugging you just a bit closer, his grip firm as he lowers his head, placing a kiss right against your aching, dripping pussy.

satoru’s grip tightens on your thighs, keeping them spread, his lips brushing against your ear. “look at you, such a messy lil' thing. bet you never thought we’d be the ones to make you this needy, hm?” his voice is a low murmur, taunting yet sweet, driving you to the edge with every word. “just let suguru take care of you… let him taste allll that sweetness you’ve been saving just for us.”

“oh god… please,” you breathe, voice breaking as suguru’s tongue flicks against your perky clit, sending a jolt of pure pleasure through you. he works with a deliberate intensity, his mouth moving in slow, tantalizing circles, teasing you, pushing you higher and higher, until you can barely think, every nerve alight with sensation.

“thaaaat’s right, just like that,” satoru murmurs, his hands gripping your thighs even tighter, keeping you spread wide open as he watches suguru devour you. “such a pretty lil' thing, all laid out for us… makin' a mess just for him.” his hand moves up, sliding around to your chest, fingers grazing over your nipples as he leans in close, lips brushing against your neck. “think you can take more? think you can handle everything we want to do to you?”

suguru’s mouth moves with more intensity now, his tongue pressing harder, faster, flicking over your clit in a way that has you seeing stars. his fingers slip inside you, curling just right, hitting that spongey spot that has you arching back against satoru, your voice breaking into a desperate, breathless moan.

“you’re so close, aren’t you?” satoru coos, his tone almost mocking, a playful edge to it as he watches your every reaction in the mirror. “look at you, falling apart so easily. gonna make such a pretty mess, aren’t cha?”

suguru’s fingers pump into you, his tongue swirling, flicking, his movements pushing you to that razor’s edge. his grip on your thighs tightens as he feels you tremble, his own hunger growing as he devours you with an almost feral intensity. "come on," he growls against you, his voice low, sending vibrations through you. "cum for us, show us how much you need it."

and that’s all it takes — his fingers curling inside you, his mouth pressing down, sending you spiraling over the edge as you cry out, back arching, body quivering as your orgasm crashes over you. you feel yourself let go, shuddering in their hold, leaving you breathless, a mess on satoru’s lap as suguru keeps working you through it, lapping up every bit of your sweet cum, refusing to let you come down easily.

“there you go,” satoru murmurs, voice laced with satisfaction as he keeps you spread wide, watching you come undone, helpless and completely at their mercy. “such a good girl… makin' a mess for us like that.”

suguru pulls back slowly, a smug grin plastered on his face, his lips and chin glistening with your cum. he chuckles lowly, eyes glinting with satisfaction as he wipes a bit off his face with the back of his hand, though not nearly enough to hide what he’s done to you.

“look at that,” he taunts, giving you a mockingly impressed look. “made ya squirt allll over my face. you just couldn’t help yourself, could you? such a messy little thing…” he trails off, licking his lips as if savoring every last taste.

you feel heat rush to your face, a needy whimper slipping from your lips as you squirm in satoru’s lap. “don’t… don’t say it like that,” you mumble, your voice trembling, though there’s no denying how much his words affect you. you can’t hide how badly you’re still aching, the intense wave of arousal making you want more, despite the fact that you just came, and squirted, at that.

satoru’s hands roam along your thighs, holding you tight, his lips curved into a playful grin as he leans forward, his mouth hovering close to suguru’s. “she did a number on ya, huh?” he says, eyes gleaming with delight as he catches sight of the slick coating suguru’s chin.

without missing a beat, satoru closes the gap, his lips capturing suguru’s in a deep, messy kiss, tasting you on him, savoring it. he moans softly, the sound low and teasing, his tongue exploring with unrestrained enthusiasm as he presses closer.

the sight of them kissing, sharing your taste, is almost too much to bear. you can’t stop the whimper that escapes you, a sound so needy it leaves you breathless. “don’t leave me out,” you plead, the words tumbling out before you can stop them. “please… i want…”

they both pull back, a wicked grin spreading across satoru’s face as he looks down at you, his thumb brushing your lip in a slow, taunting motion. “oh, sooo needy, aren’t cha?” he purrs, enjoying every bit of your desperation. “well, we can’t just ignore a request like that, can we, sugu?”

“not at all,” suguru murmurs, his voice low and filled with mischief as he moves closer, settling back down in front of you. he places his hands on your thighs, his fingers curling possessively as he draws nearer. “c'mon, sweetheart. let’s make it a little messier, just how like you like it.”

satoru’s hand cups the back of your neck, pulling you in as his lips brush against yours, just close enough to make your pulse race. suguru’s hand finds its way to your cheek, and in a moment, the three of you come together in a heated, breathless kiss. your lips meet satoru’s first, his mouth soft but demanding, as suguru’s lips slide over yours from the other side, his taste mingling with the lingering remnants of your own cum. it’s dizzying, overwhelming, the way they both claim you, tongues slipping against yours, tasting, exploring, hands holding you in place as if you might slip away.

“you taste so damn good,” suguru whispers against your lips between kisses, his voice hoarse, filled with a dark satisfaction. he pulls you back into another kiss, his tongue dancing with yours before satoru’s slips in, joining the two of you, the three of you completely lost in each other.

“bet you never thought ya’d end up like this, huh?” satoru teases, voice a breathy murmur as his lips trail down to your jaw, leaving hot, open-mouthed kisses that have you arching closer to him. “on my lap, our pretty little thing, squirmin' and desperate for both of us.”

suguru lets out a quiet sigh, and you can see the strain of impatience tightening his jaw as he kneels in front of you and satoru, his brow furrowed in something halfway between a pout and a scowl. he’s letting you and satoru indulge and draw things out, but his patience— impressive as it is — seems to be fraying at the edges.

“look at you two,” he murmurs, a dry chuckle slipping out. “have your fun, make your mess, and where does that leave me?” his gaze flickers between you and satoru, voice low and pointed. “just standing here, waiting, like a good little bystander?”

“oh, poor suguru,” satoru teases, his hand running soothingly down your back as he shifts you on his lap. “you’ve been so patient, haven’t you? just watching and… wanting?” satoru’s lips twitch in a smirk, his fingers curling against your hip as if making a show of it for suguru’s benefit.

suguru’s eyes narrow slightly, his usual calm slipping into something darker. “patience only goes so far, satoru,” he mutters, tone thick with frustration. “you two get to cum like a bunch of damn teenagers, but where does that leave me?”

you reach out, voice soft, feeling a pang of guilt. “suguru… don’t be mad.” you give him a small smile, tugging him closer. “we didn’t forget about you.”

satoru grins, pulling suguru even closer. “yeah, don’t worry, we’re all yours now. what do you want, hmm?” his voice drops, playful but inviting, his hand resting on suguru’s shoulder.

suguru’s hand reaches out to cup your chin, thumb tracing along your jaw as he finally, slowly, allows himself to smile. “maybe,” he says, voice soft but firm, “you both owe me a little something for waiting so long. i’ve put up with enough teasing.”

satoru chuckles, sharing a look with you before looking back at suguru. “oh, we can more than make it worth the wait, can’t we?”

suguru’s eyes glint with that familiar authority as he finally straightens up, standing up and crossing the room with calm, measured steps. his gaze flickers between you and satoru, a quiet command already forming in his dark, focused eyes. he looks pointedly at satoru, a hint of impatience underscoring his words.

“satoru,” he says, his voice low and firm, “take her to the bed. it’s about time you two put in some work.”

satoru’s eyes light up with a mischievous gleam, and he scoops you up, one arm slipping under your knees as he gently lifts you, carrying you to the bed without a second’s hesitation.

he sets you down on the bed, hands lingering on your waist as he leans in close, his gaze warm but teasing. suguru settles back in the chair by your vanity, crossing one leg over the other with a deliberate slowness as he watches, amusement flickering in his eyes. there’s a clear expectation in his expression, a silent reminder that he’s still in control here.

“don’t let me down now, satoru,” suguru says, his voice rich with authority, his gaze unwavering. “show me exactly how well you can follow instructions.”

suguru exhales sharply, eyes narrowing as he watches you and satoru with a simmering impatience. his jaw tightens as he pushes down his waistband in one swift motion, freeing himself with a low, restrained groan as his hand wraps around his dick, stroking slowly, his gaze heavy and fixed on the two of you.

“don’t just sit there,” he says, his tone edged with authority. “if you’re so set on putting on a show, then do it right. make it worth my while.”

satoru grins, a glint of challenge in his eyes as he glances at you, his fingers tracing down your arm before he pulls you close, his voice a low murmur against your ear.

“guess we’d better make him happy, hmm?” he teases, hands resting on your hips as he guides you down onto his dick, his touch both reassuring and charged with excitement. “don’t want to disappoint, do we?”

you feel the heat rise to your cheeks, but there’s a thrill in being watched, knowing suguru’s eyes are glued to every little move you make. your hands grip satoru’s shoulders, and he chuckles, encouraging you as you settle in him, letting yourself get lost in the moment.

“that’s it,” suguru murmurs, his tone dark with satisfaction. “show me how eager you are.”

you can feel satoru’s grip tighten, his breath hitching as you begin to move, finding a rhythm together. satoru’s hands roam along your waist, his voice filled with playful heat as he whispers, “keep going, just like that. let him see how good you are.”

suguru laughs, a low, mocking sound as he sits back, continuing to jerk himself off, his dark gaze fixed on you, unrelenting. “pathetic. you think you deserve to be taken out and treated sweetly?” he scoffs, eyes narrowing. “you’ve got two men right here who know exactly what you need, and you were gonna settle for some monkey? that’s adorable.”

the humiliation sinks in, burning hot under your skin as suguru’s words echo in your head. you try to keep your focus, to follow each command as satoru’s hands guide your movements, urging you to grind down on him, his breath hot against your neck as he whispers filthy encouragements that send shivers down your spine.

“come on pretty, don’t look at him, look at me,” satoru murmurs, fingers pressing into the tender flesh of your hips, directing you with a firm, possessive touch. “thaaat’s it. show him who you really belong to.”

your hands tremble as you cling to satoru’s shoulders, eyes flicking back and forth between him and suguru, who’s watching with that insatiable hunger in his eyes, his own hand moving lazily along his dick, strokes slow, deliberate, just enough to keep himself on the edge as he observes every humiliating, vulnerable moment between you and satoru.

“god, you look so pathetic right now,” suguru sneers, his voice thick with disdain, though his eyes glint with barely contained desire. “tears in your eyes, desperate to please us. tell me, was this what you were hoping for? were you just pretending to go on that date so we’d punish you? is that it?”

“n-no, i… i just thought…” the words choke in your throat as you feel satoru’s hand slide up to grip the back of your neck, his touch both comforting and possessive, holding you in place, forcing you to look into suguru’s intense gaze as he studies every quiver of your lips, every tear that spills over.

“don’t lie to us,” suguru snaps, and the sheer authority in his voice sends a thrill through you, leaving you helpless as you try to keep your rhythm on satoru’s lap, your body caught between the need to please them both and the overwhelming shame of being so exposed, so vulnerable under their scrutiny.

“you’re lucky ’m lettin' him touch you first,” suguru continues, voice low, his hand moving faster now, breaths coming in harsher pants as his own arousal intensifies. “lucky i’m not dragging you over here and showing you what real punishment feels like. maybe then you’d think twice about pulling a stunt like this again.”

“i… i’m sorry,” you whimper, the apology tumbling out without thought, the words desperate, choked as you try to meet suguru’s unyielding gaze, wanting so badly to appease him, to make up for even the idea of going anywhere without them. satoru’s grip tightens, his hands moving with a rougher urgency, guiding your hips faster, harder against him as he murmurs praises, teasing promises against your neck.

“yeah? you’re sorry, huh?” suguru taunts, leaning forward, his lips curling into a cruel smirk. “then prove it. show me how sorry you are by doing exactly what we tell you — no hesitation. make me believe you’d do anything to keep us happy.”

“y-yes, suguru…” you whisper, cheeks burning with shame as you follow satoru’s guidance, riding him just the way he wants, feeling every inch of him pressing into you, the tension building with each movement, each lewd sound that fills the room.

“good girl,” suguru breathes, eyes dark, satisfaction evident as he watches you, his strokes quickening, matching the pace of your desperate motions, his gaze unwavering, fixed on the sight of you breaking down, surrendering completely to their control. “maybe this will teach you who you really belong to.”

satoru’s grip on your waist tightens with each roll of your hips, his smirk stretching wider as he watches you struggle to keep pace, his cock stretching you until your thighs tremble. your own voice, hoarse and raw, betrays you with every sound that slips free, the room filled with your desperate, incoherent whimpers.

but it’s suguru who keeps that edge of humiliation sharp, his fingers finding every weak spot, every place that makes you melt and squirm as he's behind you.

“c’mmon, sweetheart,” suguru murmurs, his voice dripping with condescension as his fingers pinch and twist your sensitive nipples. the roughness makes you gasp, your body arching as you try to focus, but his low chuckle tells you he knows just how close to breaking you really are.

“thought you wanted to go out and be wined and dined, hm? but look at you,” he taunts, his words hitting deeper than any touch could. “acting like a little masochist, practically begging for more. ’m not even sure you remember who’s inside you right now, or are you just too dumb on ‘toru’s cock to care?”

“s-sugu… i–i can… i’m –” your words stumble, dissolve, lost in a gasp as his fingers come down with a sharp slap! against your clit, sending a jolt of pleasure that makes your whole body shiver. it’s overwhelming, cruel, but there’s no denying how much you crave it - the brutal control, the way they push you further, faster, until all you can do is hold on.

“oh, i think you like it, babe,” satoru teases, his tone dripping with that cocky assurance as he watches your dazed expression. “see, you’re taking everything we’re givin' you, even that little ache in your hips. you’re just gonna keep goin', aren’t cha?”

“y-yes… anything… i’ll… i can — i can take it,” you pant, voice catching as you meet suguru’s dark eyes, filled with that familiar, ruthless amusement. he doesn’t stop, doesn’t let up, his touch unyielding as he pinches your nipples again, harder this time, watching with satisfaction as your face contorts with a mix of pleasure and pain.

“yeah? then prove it,” suguru breathes, his voice low, daring, as his fingers slide back down to flick against your swollen clit with a relentless pace. “show me how much you can handle. if you’re gonna be ours, then you’d better keep up.”

it’s cruel, it’s overwhelming, but that edge of that masochistic thrill surges through you as you sink deeper, surrendering to every brutal, delicious touch, loving it more than you could ever admit.

satoru’s grip on you falters, barely able to register when suguru thrusts into you from behind, satoru's hands gripping your waist like a lifeline as he tries to steady both of you under the sudden, relentless rhythm. the shock jolts through your whole body, forcing a strangled moan from your lips as you’re practically bounced between them, your mind barely keeping up with the intensity. it’s messy, overwhelming, the slickness of your bodies pressed together, every nerve ending alight.

“you little slut,” suguru snarls, voice rough and dark, his grip bruising as he slams into you, barely giving you a moment to adjust. “thought you could keep me out of this? thought ‘toru could have you all to himself? what a selfish bastard,” he sneers, throwing a mocking glance at satoru, who’s panting beneath you, just as helpless as you, his own words failing him in the haze of pleasure.

satoru’s only response is a choked groan, his nails digging into your skin as he’s forced deeper inside you with every brutal thrust from suguru. “f-fuck… yeah… yeah, you’re right, sugu,” he manages to gasp out, voice strained. “should’ve… should’ve let you have her from the start, huh?”

his words are broken, barely coherent, but the way his hips buck up to meet you makes it clear just how much he’s losing himself in the feeling, in the sight of you completely overwhelmed between the two of them. his eyes lock onto yours, desperation painted across his face as he breathes, “who’s making you feel better, huh, baby? tell us… tell us who’s got you like this.”

the question leaves you reeling, mind scrambling to answer as every thrust sends sparks down your spine, your body caught in the unyielding rhythm of their touch, their words. the overwhelming intensity builds, cresting higher and higher until you can’t even find the words, can’t think of anything but the way they’re both consuming you whole.

and when suguru’s fingers snake down to rub at your clit with punishing pressure, it sends you spiraling over the edge, your vision going white as your whole body clenches, shuddering violently. your orgasm crashes over you, raw and uncontrollable, soaking both of them as you shake, lost in the haze of pleasure that drowns out everything else.

“oh, fuuuck, yeaah… that’s it,” suguru growls, his voice filled with satisfaction as he watches you cum, his thrusts not slowing, his hand digging into your hips with renewed force. “knew you’d come apart like this, just needed a little push. pathetic, aren’t you? look at you, makin' a mess all over us.”

satoru moans, his own hips thrusting up as he feels your cum coat his dick, his eyes half-lidded, dazed. but before you can even catch your breath, satoru’s hands are already pulling you down, his grip firm as he positions you above him, eyes gleaming with mischief and hunger.

“oh, you thought you were done, sweetheart?” he taunts, a devilish grin spreading across his face. “nah, you’re not getting off that easy.”

he drags you forward, forcing you to settle over his mouth as he takes a loonnng, deliberate lick, his tongue swirling over your already sensitive folds. a sharp, keening whine escapes your lips as the overstimulation makes your head spin, hands scrambling to grip the headboard as you try to find any bit of balance.

“fuck, you’re so sensitive,” satoru groans against you, the vibrations of his voice making you shudder. “can feel you shakin', baby. what’s wrong? thought you could handle us?”

“sato — please,” you gasp, the plea spilling from your lips as his mouth works you over, his tongue relentless, flicking and sucking until you’re trembling, barely able to hold yourself up.

“oh, you’re just greedy, aren’t cha?” suguru’s voice comes from behind, mocking yet laced with desire as he steps up, his hands pressing down on your back, pinning you against satoru’s mouth as he positions himself against your other roommate. “actin' like a needy little thing… and leaving me to finish off while you get all comfy on ‘toru’s face?”

satoru lets out a muffled moan, and you realize suguru’s not just watching — he’s lining himself up against satoru, pushing inside with a sharp thrust that makes satoru’s body jerk beneath you, his hands digging harder into your thighs as he’s sandwiched against you both.

“fuck, suguru,” satoru moans, his voice coming out muffled as he keeps his mouth firmly latched onto you, his grip tightening as his body shivers with every thrust suguru gives him.

“god, 'toru, you’re so desperate,” suguru sneers, picking up a ruthless pace, each thrust making satoru’s tongue press deeper against you, pushing you closer to another orgasm despite the aching overstimulation that has you seeing stars. “you’re always actin' like a greedy little perv… can’t even let me have her to myself without gettin' ya share, huh?”

satoru’s hands move to grab your waist, pulling you closer, nearly burying his face in your sloppy pussy as he lets out a choked, needy whine against you. “c-can’t help it… shit, ya feel so good,” he gasps, voice muffled and broken, his breath warm against your swollen folds as his tongue presses deeper, eager and desperate. “taste s'sweet, baby… can’t get enough.”

you’re practically sobbing by now, your hands gripping the headboard so tight your knuckles turn white as you rock against his face, feeling the pleasure climb with each swirl of his tongue, each brush of his lips. “i… i can’t… too much, satoru, please —”

“oh, you’re not going anywhere,” suguru growls, his hand coming up to push between your shoulder blades, forcing you to arch as he ruts into satoru, the sharp rhythm making you jolt with each movement. “you’re gonna stay right here and take it, just like the little slut you are, yeah? don’t pretend you don’t love it.”

satoru’s moans grow louder, more desperate, as he’s thrust into over and over, the pleasure and intensity breaking him down as his grip on you tightens, his mouth working you over with fervor, almost as if he’s trying to drown himself in you.

“who’s makin' ya feel good, huh?” suguru taunts, his voice dark and rough as he keeps up his pace, driving satoru’s face further against you with every thrust. “tell me who’s got you fallin' apart like this.”

“y-you both — oh god, both of you, please —” you stammer, your voice breaking as your thighs shake, every nerve alight, each stroke of satoru’s tongue pushing you closer until you’re lost, another orgasm overtaking you, spilling over like a flood that leaves you sobbing, spent, and completely theirs.

caught between suguru and satoru, the pleasure swells in waves, overtaking you so completely that words blur into desperate confessions, spilling out between gasps and shudders.

“l-love you… both of you, so much,” you babble, the sincerity threaded with breathless need, and it’s enough to push them over the edge.

satoru’s groans vibrate against you as he holds your hips, fighting to keep focus on your pleasure even as suguru’s relentless hand brings him to his own breaking point. he tries to keep his mouth steady, his tongue still teasing over you, but he’s undone, bucking helplessly, gasping, “shit… suguru, i —”

“you like this, don’t you?” suguru sneers, his voice thick with both pride and satisfaction as he thrusts into satoru. “can’t even take your eyes off her, even while i'm inside you,” he taunts, his words making even satoru flush. “look at you both, so desperate, so damn needy.”

satoru lets out a strangled moan, his body tensing as he comes, his release coating his own stomach as suguru’s hand jerks him through it. satoru’s head tilts back, eyes half-lidded with dazed pleasure, his breath coming in shallow gasps as he lets himself fall into the sensation, never breaking contact with you.

the combination of their sounds, suguru’s deep, satisfied groans as he spills into satoru, satoru’s quiet, shuddering gasps beneath you, and the overwhelming pleasure coursing through your own body, sends you tumbling into your third - or was it fourth? - climax. it’s dizzying, consuming, leaving you boneless, shaking, barely holding onto the headboard as the last tremors run through you.

satoru is quick to catch you, his strong arms guiding you down to rest, his mouth softening from its earlier intensity as he places gentle kisses against your thighs. “ya good, sweetheart?” he murmurs, his tone tender, grounding you with a warm smile as he brushes damp strands of hair from your face.

“yeah… just, totally spent,” you mumble, a laugh slipping out as you relax into his hold. suguru settles beside you, his hand stroking soothing circles on your back, his gaze softened from its earlier sharpness.

“good girl,” suguru praises, his voice quiet now, full of affection as he pulls a blanket over you. “took everything we gave you… we’re proud of you.” his lips brush your forehead, and for a moment, there’s only warmth, only the steady rise and fall of your breaths.

you snuggle between them, letting out a contented sigh. “oh, by the way, um…” you start, a sheepish pout forming, “there wasn’t actually a date tonight.”

there’s a beat of silence before satoru bursts into laughter, his hands coming up to cover his face as he leans back, groaning.

“are you serious?” he scoffs, shaking his head. “we did all that because you made up some story?”

suguru smirks, though there’s a hint of amusement in his eyes as he leans close, tugging you gently by the chin so you’re looking right at him. “you’re a cheeky little thing, aren’t you?” he murmurs, voice low with amusement. “but you’re ours now, so there’s no need to make up stories to get our attention.”

“unless…” satoru teases, his eyes glinting mischievously. “you just like getting us all riled up.” he taps your nose, chuckling as he pulls you back against him, letting you rest in his embrace.

you let out a soft giggle, feeling safe, cherished, utterly at ease. satoru's arm tightens around you, pulling you flush against him as his laughter bubbles up, muffled by your hair.

"oh, yeah," he snickers, his voice low and teasing, "guess we’re a trio now, huh? what, you didn’t think it’d get official after all that?”

suguru huffs a laugh, his hand resting comfortably on your hip as he leans in, eyes glinting with that familiar mix of amusement and mischief. “our little trio, huh?” he murmurs, his tone somehow both affectionate and playful. “and here i thought you’d keep us on our toes a little longer.”

you look up at them both, cheeks still warm, lips swollen from all the breathless kisses, and you can’t help the laugh that spills out of you. “so that’s it, huh? i’m stuck with you two now?”

“stuck?” satoru grins, his voice full of mock offense. “you better be thrilled to be our third, princess. you know how hard it was to keep this one” — he tilts his head at suguru, whose smirk only grows — "from swooping in first?”

suguru chuckles, rolling his eyes as he brushes a thumb along your cheek, his voice dipping. “oh, she was always going to be ours,” he murmurs, confident and possessive. “it was just a matter of when.”

“and where,” satoru quips, giving your hip a playful squeeze, making you squirm with a laugh. "and how often."

you press your hand to your forehead, sighing dramatically. “what did i get myself into?” you mock-groan, only to have both of them pull you close, laughter and warmth wrapping around you, sealing you into your newfound trio — exactly where you want to be.

produced by creamflix on tumblr. all rights reserved. do not copy, steal, modify, repost — support your writers by liking and reblogging. ♡ mdni header by cafekitsune

[syluslnd]

Could you maybe do one where reader is a tomboy but decides to wear a skirt in front of Sylus for the first time for a date but is really shy about it? And maybe when he sees how shy she is, he teases her about it? :3

wearing a skirt for the first time in front of sylus

The restaurant was extravagant with glittering chandeliers and white linen tablecloths and you felt out of place as soon as you stepped through the doors. The soft, unfamiliar swish of the skirt you wore made you tug at the fabric, self-conscious. This was the first time you’d ever worn one and it was just for him—Sylus, who had insisted on taking you to this fancy place for a “proper night out.”

As you stood just inside the entrance, nervously smoothing your skirt, you saw Sylus waiting for you near your table. His eyes locked on you immediately, widening just a fraction as he took in your outfit—a soft blouse paired with a modest skirt that fell just above your knees.

“Well, well” he said with a smirk, moving towards you, his gaze practically gleaming. “Never thought I’d see the day.”

You felt your cheeks flush. “It’s just a skirt, Sylus” you muttered, looking down, fidgeting with the hem.

He chuckled softly, reaching out to tip your chin up so you’d look at him. “Oh, I know, sweetie. But it’s on you.” His tone was teasing but there was warmth in his eyes, the usual sharp edge of his gaze softened. “I didn’t even know you owned a skirt. Did you have to raid someone else’s closet for this?”

You scowled, though it lacked any real bite. “No! I… I bought it. Just for tonight.”

“Just for tonight?” His smirk widened, but there was a flicker of something behind his eyes—a glint of genuine appreciation. “Now I feel special.”

Your blush deepened, and you looked away, wishing the floor would swallow you up. “Well, don’t get used to it.”

“Oh, don’t worry, kitten. This is more than enough for me.” He took your hand and led you to the table, clearly enjoying every bit of your discomfort.

When you sat down, Sylus didn’t let up. “You keep tugging at that skirt like it’s going to run away” he teased, a sly smile on his lips. “Are you sure you’re comfortable?”

You glanced at him, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks again. “I just… I’m not used to this. That’s all.” You tried to focus on the menu, hoping the red on your face wasn’t too obvious.

He chuckled, setting his menu aside as he leaned in. “I can tell.” His voice dropped, becoming softer, almost… affectionate. “You look beautiful, you know?”

You blinked, caught off guard. “I—well—” You stumbled over your words, suddenly finding it impossible to meet his gaze.

“I’ve seen you in a hundred different things but this… this is something new.” He let his eyes roam over you for a moment and you could feel his gaze even without looking at him. “And I have to say, I think I could get used to this view.”

You bit your lip, fighting back a smile. “You’re really laying it on thick, aren’t you?”

“Can’t help it” he said, his smirk returning. “You get all shy and it’s… cute.” His voice softened, a warmth in it that was hard to ignore.

“Cute?” you repeated, rolling your eyes in a weak attempt to hide your smile. “Right, because I’m so cute.”

“Yes” he said simply, his gaze meeting yours, completely serious for once. “Yes, you are.”

You felt yourself blush all over again, your heart pounding as you met his eyes. There was something more in his gaze, something that went beyond teasing, something that had been simmering under the surface for a while now.

And as you sat there, fidgeting in your skirt and trying to keep your cool, Sylus reached across the table, his fingers brushing over yours in a small, reassuring gesture. “Next time, you don’t have to dress up if you don’t want to” he said softly, a small smile tugging at his lips. “But… if you do, I won’t mind one bit.”

Your heart fluttered and for once, you found yourself smiling back.

[lilacgaby]

‧₊˚truth bomb!‧₊˚

getting hit by a truth quirk? not so fun. dealing with it while having a huge crush on bakugo katsuki? even worse.

- ღpairing. 3rdyear!katsuki x reader. tags. friends to lovers, truth telling quirk, wingmen, kissing scenes, confessions, fighting, miscommunication trope, U-A girls love you, she/her pronoun use, fem!reader, earthquirk!reader. wc. 8k

- ღnote. i win the slowest writer ever award! anyways, i wrote this in chapter form here, this is a rework of my first work ever, and i completely changed the plot for anyone who might have read itt

this wasn't how your mission was supposed to go.

the thought ran through your head as you resisted the urge to bang your head against the concrete. that fate would probably be better than whatever you'd face having to confess, out of your will, to your longtime crush, katsuki.

but, the day started out normal enough. you were on a patrol, randomly scheduled as all your patrols usually were because of your mentor, mirko. she lacked the traditional agency and took missions as she pleased, which meant you'd usually be along for the ride.

which entailed things like this, walking boredly along the streets, running your fingers along metal pipes, trying to find something- anything to quench your eternal boredom.

it didn't work though.

you finally groaned, rolling your eyes as you looked at mirko, who seemed oddly determined. “we've been walking in this place for like– what? an hour? it's so boring!” you kicked a rock, making it clash against a random trash can.

“a deserted town is perfect, it's exactly what an up and coming villain group would want to start up. think before you speak for once.” she chided, not even looking over at you as she continued walking forth. “anyways, you should be able to feel it, can't you? they're close.”

sure enough, you could. the vibrations of their movement, the reverberation of their voices bouncing off the walls of the random alleyway of where you two stood felt as you focused your stance.

they were close. you sighed, though now of relief that you'd finally be able to beat them and get out of here as soon as you can, you stretched your hands and fingers, getting ready to manipulate the ground below you. “well then what are you waiting for? let's go!”

mirko nodded, and wordlessly followed you as you two positioned yourselves on a rooftop above the rowdy group of villains. they were laughing heartily, seemingly unaware and full of glee as they continued down the city streets. the sun was coming down, golden sunlight illuminating your figure as you closed your eyes and focused in on their positions, trusting your quirk more than your vision.

you stomped lightly and closed your eyes, feeling their positions out perfectly, as well as mirko’s readied stance beside you. nobody was around for miles, on the ground at least, so you focused in to hear their words.

mocking cries of innocent civilians left the mouth of the biggest one. “oh, please don't hurt me!” he cried, a fake squeaky voice cut off by his laughter. “oh man, what a pathetic excuse for a human.”

“fleeting the town completely in what? two days? we're the shit man.” another replied, high-fiving amongst themselves as they snickered and giggled.

they held bags of money and prized belongings in their grasps, smirks and sneers as they lugged them down the city. the one they seemed to think they ‘owned’ now that the civilians fled to safety. one that they were making a mess of.

you felt mirko’s figure, the growing hostility in her stance. the balling of her fist and her legs that were ready to pounce at any given moment.

“i'm all clear.” you whispered. “on your call, i'm ready.”

you could even feel the twitch of her ears, the wind blowing a spare leaf of the ground, but most importantly,

you felt the millisecond where she lowered to jump.

in response you launched the ground underneath you with a flick of the hand, landing yourself perfectly next to mirko. she held out a fist to the group, who jumped at the sight of you two.

“listen up losers!” she began, pointing a daunting finger at the biggest of the group, who had a literal screw growing out the base of his neck. a shiver went down your spine at the sight. “you can beg for forgiveness now, or later! which is it?”

a moment of silence passed, before one of them declared, “how about never? attack!”

half of the group focused on mirko, while the others were now facing you. you sighed, fixing yourself in a relaxed stance, before swiftly punching up to launch chucks of rock and steel out of the ground, into the bodies of the offending men coming towards you.

a few of them dodged, making you repeat the same attack again, since you really didn't feel like going full strength for villains at this level. your eyebrows furrowed as you realized one of them had taken the opportunity to make a break for it, but ignored it for now as the final guy stood against you.

mirko stole your spotlight though, landing a kick in his hand that rendered him unconscious.

“hey. i called dibs.” you whined, before walking over to her. “alls fair in love and war.” she said, before pointing to the almost comically large bags of money and jewelry. “we need to clean these up and get these guys locked up. round up the bags and i'll get the corpses– uh. bodies.”

with a reassuring smirk, she threw around the bodies into a pile, making you wince at the sound of their groans. you went to move all the money and things into an area for the collection agency.

you moved a bag or two, onto your third bag when a sound was suddenly heard behind you. “freeze.”

an unconfident, shaky, and out of breath voice filled your ears. you froze, not knowing who it was.

“n-now turn around. slowly.” he ordered. you did as he said, noting that his hand was pointing towards you in a handgun motion. the tips of his fingers were glowing a strange light green color. “o-okay. you’re gonna leave all the money there, just for me. okay lady?”

you shrugged, looking back at your work. “i mean, that was the plan anyways. a collection agency is gonna come for you and your friends soo–.”

“no, they're not.” he cut you off with a snarl. “i don't think i gave you permission to talk.”

“but you're still talking to me anyways!”

“why you– teenage brats are the worst. i tried not to kill kids, but you're annoying.” the green light emitted even brighter.

“bye.” the ray was about to shoot at you. you didn't have time to block, but mirko last minute shoved the guy to the ground.

his hand still managed a shot, though with his arm up in the air, it moved from being aimed to your heart, to..

shooting towards your mouth.

you didn't dodge in time, not expecting to get shot in your mouth of all places.

it didn't hurt, but it did feel tingly. the guy was slammed to the ground, his face flat with the floor as your hands shot up to feel the skin around your mouth.

you were.. fine?

“hey!” mirko cut off your thoughts. “you okay? what did he do to you? fuck i should've been quicker.”

“i'm fine. honestly you should have been quicker, i was really stalling here.”

“oh.. well im glad to hear you're fine at least.”

“you heard that??” you were shocked to hear her response, you only meant to say that mentally. you really were just going to say it was fine like always, so why..

why wasn't your mouth listening to you?

“no. like you don't understand mirko, i didn't mean to say that-”

“we all slip up sometimes.”

“no. like, it left my mouth before i realized it.”

her eyes widened, before thumping on the guys head below her. “hey you. what exactly did you do to her? huh?”

at no response, she wacked him against the ground again. “hellooo? i'll do it as many times as i need to-”

“no! please, fine fuck- i'll tell you!”

the collection agency finally was heard in the distance. mirko glared. “talk. fast.”

“okay, okay!” the man was once again shaking. “my quirk is enhancements, but I control how exactly it enhances the body–”

“i didn't ask for a life story. get to the point.”

“well! i wanted to aim for the heart and enhance heart rate, which would of killed her! but– um. i accident aimed for her mouth, and enhanced.. honesty.”

“i see. for how long will it be?”

“uh.. a week i think.”

“huh, why would you become a villain with a quirk like yours anyways? final question before you're shipped off to jail.”

“well, i wanted to bring out the best in the worst, to show that even we villains can triumph!”

“..okay.” she left him on the ground and walked away with you by her side. you were heading back to the U-A dorms to drop you off.

“so, you can't lie to me, huh?”

“nope.” your answer left you before you could process it, like a mental disconnection between your actions. “don't do that, it isn't funny!”

she raised her hands up defensively. “okay, okay. i won't.”

…

“so am i your favorite hero or what?”

“yes.”

“really? since when?” she chided.

“since your debut, i was a hardcore fan for a long time.”

“was?”

“learning the real you killed the rose-tint in my glasses.”

“oh..” she put a hand over her heart. “ouch?”

“you wanted the truth.” you sneered. which wasn't really the right choice at this point, since she took that as liberty to start questioning your every move.

the worst 20 questions of your life was played as you walked home, your legs burning with ache of exhaustion was nothing over the mental anguish of being around a happy-go-lucky mirko.

you finally made it, the dorms in view as she decided to ask you one final question.

“so, my darling apprentice [name]. got any more ideas for questions?���

“no! so stop asking them!”

“you're no fun. hmm, let's see. oh! do you have a crush?”

don't say it, you repeated mentally in your mind, but you felt the oddly numb sensation of the answer leaving you.

“bakugo katsuki.”

her eyes widened and jaw went slack. “seriously? i thought i raised you better.” she joked, poking your side as you went to cover your face with your hands.

the church bells welcomed you as the golden staircase was opened from the clouds. step by step you took, angels singing and a halo over your head as you were greeted by loved ones past–

but your peaceful departure wasn't peaceful for very long.

“well, as long as you're happy [name]. i'll be going now, text me!”

she walked off with a smile that made you feel sick, but you couldn't resist the urge to wave goodbye anyways.

you leant up against the gate of the opening, your arms basically clung around the pillar. catching your breath as you prepared yourself for a week of hiding, of intense planning around your crush–

“hey, you okay weirdo?”

the voice of said crush filled your ears, making you realize that it indeed can always get worse.

“no, i'm not okay.” she said, letting go of the pillar and shakily standing on two feet, feeling like a fawn standing for the first time.

his eyebrows raised like he didn't expect you to say that, his mouth hung open for a second, before he decided to just retort. “oh, sucks to be you then.”

“yes, yes it does.” you say of your own will, dragging a hand longly against your face.

face-to-face with him, the guy you'd randomly became close with over the years, the one that you'd harbored and now openly spoke of your crush on, and the one who you shared an affinity for romance manga with.

“are ya ever g’nna get up properly? or you just gonna stare like a dumbass?” he asked, which made you answer begrudgingly.

“everyone who falls has to get up, unless they're dead.

…

but uh– don't wait on me!”

“...right.” he shrugged, moving back towards the door to walk inside. acting off after a mission wasn't anything crazy after all, they all had weird days. at least that's how he rationalized it.

“oh, and i borrowed some shit from your room. i'll give it you tomorrow.”

“be gentle!”

“whatever.” he closed the door after him, leaving your with your thoughts alone. after the sun had fully left you alone, you decided to bite the bullet and just go inside. taking a deep breath, you walked in, trying your best to just make it to your room.

mina came up to you, a pint of ice cream in her hand. “[name]! you're back! how was it?”

“bad.” you answered, wordlessly asking for a bit of her ice cream.

she gave it to you, before joining you as you walked up the stairs. “wanna talk about it?”

“not really, but it'll be forced out of me.”

“what??”

you sighed, explaining what happened to you in between bites of your ice cream. “truth quirk. talk too much. can't shut up.”

mina made an ‘o’ shape with her lips, pondering it over mentally. “but it's not like you're a crazy liar, what's the big problem?”

“my crush on katsuki. i'm so scared that i'm gonna accidentally be forced to confess because of this.” you admitted.

mina, thankfully didn't overreact. for a second. until she smiled gleefully and shoved you into your room. “wait here, i got something for you.”

she left you with the pint of ice cream, your favorite flavor, which kept you good company until she came back with the girls of the class.

“i hope you don't mind.. well it's too bad if you do, because i told them all already. whoops!” she said, leading them all in and shutting the door.

“so, you're finally confessing?” momo asked, making you almost choke.

“no! this is against my will! i'd never confess in my life! the embarrassment of getting rejected is something i couldn't recover from.”

“really? i mean- i think it's pretty obvious the two of you have something special. ribbit.” tsuyu added, looking up at the ceiling of your dorm thoughtfully. “well, its not like you have a choice now. might as well just do it.” jirou shrugged.

“if you're here to make fun of me you can just leave!” you whined into your hands. “im already making myself miserable just fine!”

the girls exchanged glances, before they sighed. uraraka started, “[name] we were here to try and encourage you to do it out of your own will, but if you really don't want to.. we can help.”

“help? like how?”

mina jumped, “by making sure you don't accidentally confess of course!”

“but it won't be easy.” yaoyorozu chimed in, “we'll have to plan this out well, it's a week isn't it?”

“a week from today.. that's saturday.”

“okay guys, let's do this for [name]!” mina cheered, placing her hand in the middle of the group. the other girls all moved to place their hands on top of hers, and waited for you to finish it off.

“come on!” uraraka encouraged, making you sigh and place your hand on the top.

as you raised your hand on the count of three, hearing their cheers and hopes in encouragement for you and for their plan, you felt a bit of hope that it just might turn out alright.

they shuffled out afterwards, patting you on the back and making tiny promises as they moved out. with a final wink from mina and a whispered, “good night [name], i promise everything will work out!” they were gone.

as you laid in your bed, staring at the ceiling that never changed no matter what did in your life, you allowed yourself to rest.

7 days to go.

when will this end? you thought, all the optimism from yesterday ripped from you.

insomnia arose from the anxiety that implanted a pit of dread in your stomach, it didn't let you sleep, no matter how sleepy you had gotten.

horrible scenarios played one after one, like a record player made of your nightmares. what if he rejected you in front of your school? no, what if he has a secret girlfriend and you look like a total homewrecker for confessing?

or even worse, what if he doesn't like women at all and you missed all the signs?

you squealed into a pillow, trying to escape your sorrows as you realized,

you were probably just hungry for some actual food. when was the last time you ate properly? who knows.

you slipped on house slippers and made your way down the stairs to the kitchen. you prepared a pot of chai, greeting iida and other early risers who were up out of instinct, since it's a sunday.

yawning, you scroll mindlessly on your phone while you wait for your tea to finish. a familiar voice takes you out of your bubble.

“yo.” is all he says, sliding by you by causally placing a hand on your waist, letting go only a second later.

“uh.. hey. want some tea?” you managed, ignoring the spiraling of your soul as you were met by the close proximity of his face. “yeah, sounds cool.”

you pour him a glass, letting him put the sugar in by himself as you fix one for yourself too. he looks to see if anyone was in earshot of the two of you, before whispering into your ear.

“did you see when usui jumped off the building for misa?”

“yes. its one of my favorite scenes!” you answer before you realize it, but you're slowly starting to get used to the feeling of it. “i mean, he's so cool for that.”

“yeah, but his legs would be fucked. or he'd be paralyzed for life after that fall. would've been an easy choice to make him break a leg and have ‘er take care of him.”

“but isn't that so predictable? it's better to take a unique route-”

“no spoilers.”

“it's not really a spoiler though! man, i really loved that scene. i think it's my favorite.”

“why?” he asked, an odd tonal shift in his voice.”

“i like usui.”

“no, like. do you imagine someone doing that to you?” he was close, way to close. your mouth was opening, your answer was so clear to you, it was about to be ruined, until–

“oh [name]! may i have some of your tea please?” yaoyarozu saved the day. you thanked her mentally, getting her a glass and smiling at her small wink. she hung close by, you didn't notice before, but she was within earshot.

“anyways, what were we talking about katsuki?”

“..'s nothing. see ya.”

he left her there, knees weak in worry or affection? both probably. she mouthed a thank you to momo, before going back up to her dorm to get ready for the day.

sunday, not much to do thankfully. you decided to hang out in your room for a while, drawing and relaxing, managing to catch up on a couple hours of sleep as you tried to avoid katsuki as much as possible.

though, even in this brief moment where you were attempting to avoid him, you couldn't help but notice that he tended to come to you first.

greetings and conversations started by him, fleeting touches initiated by him, small nods in the hallways of the dorms given by him, and even-

a text message left by him, asking if he could come to your dorm for just a moment. for the books.

you wondered now if he was solely coming for that reason.. could there be an off chance he was coming for you?

..no. no way, you thought. you brushed it off, and opted to make it seem like the girls were already in your room, just so you wouldn't be alone with him. can't take chances anymore.

you texted the girls the news, and the ones who weren't at the mall or busy came to see you, leaving uraraka, tsuyu, and hagakure.

you welcomed them in, “thanks for coming guys. we can actually paint each others nails since we're already here?”

they all nodded with excitement, you pulled out the limited colors you had, though they were all your favorites. they began to paint each other’s nails, while you finally texted him back. telling him to come, but that the others were here too. he only reacted with a thumbs up.

“what did he say?” tsuyu asked.

“oh, he just responded with a thumbs up.” like you summoned him, a knock was heard at the door. you went to open it, making the girls laugh quietly behind their hands. greeting you was the sight of katsuki in his usual baggy attire holding two bags of books from what you could see. you stepped outside of your room, the door behind you. “hi katsuki.”

“hey– uh, [name].” he greeted. he held up a bag and handed it to you. “thanks for um.. lending it to me.” a hand naturally went towards the back of his head, rubbing it as he averted his eyes away from you.

he waited for you to set the bag down inside the room, before holding out the second one to you.

“what's this?” you asked, accepting it as you looked into red eyes.

“well– it's some of my collection. you haven't read it before, it's so we could talk about it. or something.”

a soft smile overcame you. “i think i'd like that.”

hagakure made a casual remark, they'd been eavesdropping from behind the door, muffled remarks not quite coherent enough to be a worry. but one question had managed to reach your and his ears.

“they're so cute together! aren't they literally dating?”

his face tinged pink, but you knew you'd say your thoughts.

“i wish.”

his face looked incredulous, as if he couldn't believe you just said that. “wait- what did you just–”

but before he could finish the question that would seal your fate, the door was opened quickly behind you, uraraka placing a hand over your mouth before smiling nervously. “um, she's not in her right mind today bakugo! don't mind her.”

his eyebrow raised. “really? why?”

“because.. it's that time of the month?” she managed, making him reel back and look apologetic. “oh. ill be.. going now then. bye.” you two waved him goodbye.

he left quickly, leaving his books next to the door as he speed walked away.

you were conflicted, not knowing whether to glare at or thank uraraka, but you closed the door behind you anyways.

“are you guys serious?”

“sorry!” hagakure pleaded. “i didn't think you two could hear me, the door wasn't closed all the way!”

“i mean, we were kind of close-”

“guys! all that matters is that i fixed it!”

“what do you mean fixed it?” you cut in. “you told him im out of my mind right now.”

“it'll be okay, he likes you too much to hold it against you.” she waved it off with a smile, and held your shoulders gently. “what you really should

he worried about is school. missions come at the end of the week, but how are you gonna deal with monday through wednesday?”

“i feel like you're changing the subject. and i'm going to avoid him. easy as pie.”

they all glanced at eachother, then back at you. “sure [name]. whatever you say.”

they all bid their goodbyes soon after, hagakure still apologizing profusely as the other two patted themselves on the back for speedy thinking.

the door shut and once again you were left to plan, only this time you managed a good night's sleep.

your life wasn't completely over, at least.

you dreaded the next three days. thursday and friday were safe for you, the only person you'd have to deal with being mirko since agencies tended to schedule students at the end of the week.

you woke up and prepared yourself. it was alright eight, so you'd only have an hour before heading to school.

you'd showered and changed, fixed your hair and fixed your bag.

unfortunately, katsuki is a really good guy.

a good friend, caring too. thats why you were startled by the sight of him at your door. you didn't have time to prepare, no time to call your backup or report, because he caught you right as many of the girls just woke up.

you were still rubbing the sleep out of your eyes as you looked up at him, “katsuki?”

he held a bag in his hand, something that was oddly reoccurring lately. “hey, about your 'time of the month’ shit.” he placed the bag safely in your arms, and averted his eyes from you once again.

“i brought you some stuff i thought might help, since we got class today.”

“really? you shouldn't have.” you peeked in the top, seeing a stuffed animal, chocolates, a heating pad, and some ice packs.

he sighed, almost dreamily. “i wanted to. i hope you stop feeling so fucked.” a beat passes, his eyebrows scrunched as if he wants to say something more, but he chooses not to.

“see ya.” with that, he left you alone with a warm feeling spreading throughout your chest. the pink bag gripped tightly in your hands and set gently onto your desk.

the warm feeling was soon gone, replaced with a feeling of guilt. guilt for basically ignoring him.

you slumped onto your desk in the middle of the class, scribbling down notes like there was no tomorrow, taking sips of a drink you enjoyed while ignoring the growing ache in your wrist.

mr. aizawa was just going over the basics of hero courtesy again, a refresher for your on hand experience at the end of the week. you really didn't need to take notes, but you found it got your mind off the red eyes you felt looking at the back of your head.

you were almost tempted to look back, almost. but with a determination that rivaled even midoriya’s, you just kept going.

finally, the lunch bell rang. you got up and stretched, everyone got their bearings and followed suit. they all piled out, leaving you as the last one there, though you couldn't help but notice a lingering gaze stare at you, before he finally followed suit and left the classroom.

you stood there, trying to figure out what you should do for lunch, when a ‘ahem’ brought you out of your thoughts.

“[name]. i appreciate your hard work in class and all, but id like to nap this period.” mr aizawa said gruffly.

“oh! sorry! i was just leaving.” you grabbed your lunchbox and ran out the room.

now came the issue of figuring out where to sit.

it was no secret to anyone that you and katsuki would usually spend the entire lunch period on the roof together most days, you'd even go up there by yourself on days he wasn't here.

so to be in the cafeteria again was a bit unnerving for you, but you took a spot besides jirou and got out the lunch you made.

she seemed surprised to see you, but then remembered why you were here. “it's cool to see you down here [name]. you're only ever up on the rooftop making out with your boyfriend.”

“we don't even make out. and he's not my boyfriend!”

“sure. that's why he's staring over here right now. and he stares at you in class too, does he ever get tired?”

“i don't know, why are you asking me like i know him in and out?”

“okay, let's just calm down you two.” momo cut in. “[name], happy to see you.”

you nodded, “yeah? i'm happy to see you too.”

you tried your best to ignore katsuki’s eyes boring into your soul, but you accidentally glanced over at him, quickly averting your eyes away.

you finished your lunch quickly, moving to be in between jirou and momo much to their dismay. you really just wanted this day to be over.

going back to class you rested your head against the table, only participating when you actively had to. you just felt so guilty about ignore him, especially after what he did for you this morning.

you realized just how much of your day you spent with him, because when it came time to walk back to the dorm, you felt alone for the first time in months even.

he'd always been by your side, maybe even offering to go out for a small treat with you, you felt the lack of his presence like a withdrawal.

you did everything you could just to avoid him in the halls, basically even running away at one point. everyone knew now of how weird you had been acting, but it wasn't really your fault, you had a master plan to enact!

the next day was just like the last, keeping your head down and turned completely away from katsuki, turning the opposite direction when you'd so much as see his hair, partnering with someone else just so you wouldn't get stuck with him.

going home to eat dinner in your room, ignoring his texts altogether. he even called you at one point.

you shoved a pillow over your head, though it didn't serve to silence the voices screaming at you that it wasn't fair what you were doing to him, that you should man up and just confess already.

but what you didn't expect was for him to take it into his own hands.

wednesday started easily enough, same way as the last two. silly for you to think you could go 3/3, no problems encountered.

you were walking in the halls, choosing the lower floors you knew he wouldn't be in, trotting down to the cafeteria to third wheel momo and jirou.

you were almost there, when you were suddenly pulled into a vacant classroom by the hand. a hand that you'd felt many times against yours, but never with so much intent behind it.

there stood katsuki in front of you, eyes low and waiting as he looked you over.

“[name].” he started, still holding on to your hand. “we need to talk.”

“talk. about what exactly?”

“you know what. you've been ignoring me.” he let go of your hand, crossing them into his chest as he looked you over. “did.. i do something wrong?”

“what? no! it's me!”

“you?”

“yes, it's me. not you. well i mean it is you, but not like that!”

“it's my fault?”

“yes– wait no. yes and no? listen-”

“so, you're ignoring me?” he stepped closer to you, eye contact fierce as you could see the mixed emotions in his eyes. betrayal, even.. insecurity.

“yes. well, i mean i don't– you don't understand!” you tried to reason, but he scoffed.

“save it. i know when im not wanted.”

“katsuki! no-” you grabbed his hand before you even realized it, pulling him closer to you.

“i..” your brain was screaming at you to just admit it now before you would do so accidentally, but..

you couldn't.

“i can't tell you why right now, but it's not what you think.”

his eyes rolled, he took his hand out of yours forcibly. “i don't think i even want to hear that shit. shove it.”

with his hands now shoved in his pocket, he left you alone in that classroom. you walked to the table with wide eyes, never thinking you'd ever miss the feeling of being watched, but admittedly you grew used to it.

you acted that way out of fear of rejection, but did you just get rejected anyways? you hit your head against the lunch table in frustration.

“i'm an idiot.” you muttered, muffled by the material of the tables below. momo patted you on the back.

“i mean, i called it.” jirou said, taking a bite out of her food. “no way this was ever gonna work out.”

“it really wasn't the best idea [name]..” momo finally agreed, still soothing your back. “i mean, there was better ways of going about this. you just ended up pushing him away.”

“i know that now. ugh!”

“it's not too late, there's only what? three days left? you can make it up to him on saturday.”

“it's too late, i'm ruined.”

“right..”

you don't remember the rest of the conversation. you didn't remember even walking up to class, or walking out of it to your dorm. you were in a state of mourning, dreading ever seeing him again. at least for the next two days you wouldn't.

that was the only thought that could let you sleep peacefully, but it made you wake up early regardless.

sulking as you got ready in your hero outfit, walking slowly to the train station with a bag you packed the week prior. mirko texted you the location in tokyo where you'd meet up this week, standing on one of the sides of the train station that seemed pretty busy today.

as the train came to a stop in front of you, you noticed that when the door opened, a familiar face was on the other side.

katsuki.

your eyes widened and looked away from his as you shuffled in, all the seats were full to you hanged onto the bar.

you didn't look at him, though you were jealous at the fact that he got a seat and you didn't. you sulked internally, feeling your knees buckle at not only your exhaustion, but the proximity to him.

there was only a small space next to him now, the kid who'd been next to him getting off at this stop. you eyed it, and he noticed, sighing and gently pulling you towards him.

you were shoved against him, though he said nothing to you.

“kat–”

“it's nothing. don't think about it.”

he barely spared you a glance, though you felt you deserved it now. you sighed, instinctually leaning a head on his shoulder and dozing off. he didn't move you off of him.

you felt him lay his head on yours, the music from his outdated wired headphones leaking into your ear as you took a nap.

the time felt like nothing as you laid there, feeling like only a split second when you felt katsuki shaking you. “yo, [name]. wake up.” he called to you. your eyes fluttered open, squinting at the fluorescent bright lights of the train.

“hm?” you mumbled, moving off of him to get up.

“we're at our station. or mine at least.” he slung his bag around his shoulder.

“oh, this is mine too. coincidence.”

“yeah.”

at the news he grabbed your bag and held it. he waited for you to stretch you legs and neck, before walking beside you. “so, where are ya going?”

“to mirko.”

“duh, i know that. but what is she doing in tokyo of all places?”

“oh, she just tells me places to go and i get there day of. she can't tell me anything, i think it's confidential?”

“mhm. well i'll walk you to your shit, i'm a future number one hero, not an asshole.

“well..”

“then walk by yourself.” he threw your bag at you, walking faster and leaving you a bit behind.

“no, wait!”

you chased after him, and kept by his side. no matter which direction you turned, it was the same way he was going. until you finally just look at the address, and sure enough..

mirko decided to work at best jeanist’s agency.

you felt a mix of emotions wash over you. annoyance, dread, anger.

“what's up?”

“mirko chose to work with best jeanist.”

“what?”

“i know.”

“she only did it to piss me off. ugh!” she kicked a can in the alleyway. they were in eyeshot of the huge agency.

“really, why would she even do that?”

“because of you.” a hand slapped over your mouth.

“me? really?” you could hear the smirk on his face, he waltzed over to you. you were nearing the entrance now, only a staircase keeping you alone with him. you could even see the familiar white ears of your now enemy.

“what?

do you have a crush on me or something?” it was just a joke, you could hear it in his cocky demeanor.

but that didn't stop the hands that shot off your face involuntarily, as you let out a meek. “yes.”

the smile was wiped off of his face now, shock filling his expression. you ran into the doors, standing beside a mirko who greeted you warmly. a hand reaching out to grab you was now left in the air.

it felt like the air had left his lungs too.

because it turns out his feelings were reciprocal after all.

the meeting would start in a small moment, that's what the receptionist told you as you stood next to mirko, who you pulled aside to talk to.

placing your hands on either side of her shoulders, you let her have it.

“mirko, why would you choose to work here of all places?”

“i wanted to play wingman for my favorite partner. sue me.”

“but– this is making everything worse! why couldn't you have just done this in a week! or better yet- never!” you cried, stomping a foot on the floor. “

i didn't want or need any help- any now i'll have to spend tomorrow on some awkward random patrol!”

“it won't be so awkward, remember that me and that best jeanist guy will be there too.”

“like, third-wheeling? thanks a lot. that really helps me feel better.”

“think nothing of it. anyways, this is for the better. i caught wind of you and the girls’ plan. it really sucked. maybe my plan will end up working. you never know.”

“so? and what if it doesn't?”

“then what? you already got rejected didn't you?”

“yes.” a beat passed, your glare only getting stronger. “you're so annoying.”

“you love me though, anyways it's time.” she grabs your hand and guides you to the meeting room. you're sat right next to katsuki, though you do your best not to look at him. it's awkward enough just thinking about how you'd even salvage the relationship you had before, so you try not to.

you realize way too late that you'd managed to zone out through the entire mission. the map displayed virtually might as well had been in another language, the suspects and victims melting into each other, the objectives not clear.

the only notable thing to you was a random, large red circle over a part of the city. but besides that you had no idea what was going on, and based on the look on mirko’s face, listening along was vital.

you brushed it off. not thinking that it was that important, and your instincts hadn't failed you that horrifically yet.

you exited the room besides mirko, who had gotten the two of you a hotel for the two nights you were staying here. a penthouse suite awaited you. you would've been more thankful, if not for her betrayal of you earlier.

the night was swift, faster than you wanted it to be. you found yourself already in your hero outfit at the crack of dawn, trudging alongside mirko.

one word described the streets. busy, full of life. something you weren't really used to.

stealth missions and random outposts were where you were usually sent, nobody seen for ages. so maybe you should have spent a bit more time paying attention to the mission debrief..

“is it always like this?” you questioned to bakugo, who stood right next to you.

“what do you mean?”

“like. busy.”

“oh, yeah it is. always pretty boring though. no smart villain would make an attack with so many people around. at least one hero would be stationed over here.”

“guess you're right.”

“i know i am.”

and he was proven right. the side of town you two were stationed to, seperate from mirko and jeanist, was completely fine.

the only thing you two had done the whole day was save a cat out of a tree, handing it to a little girl who looked up at you with stars in her eyes as you did.

it was afternoon now, and your shift was officially over. you slumped against a wall dramatically, slipping down onto the floor as you breathed a sigh of relief.

katsuki sat next to you, a close proximity between you two not foreign usually, though with the weird back and forth that had been going on thus far, it was nice to know he still considered you to be close.

“‘m fucking hungry.” he finally said, making you laugh. “that's what you're thinking of right now?”

“no. not really.”

“well, then what is it?”

“it's you, [name].”

he takes a breath. “let me talk, okay.” he moved to face you, and at your nod, he continued.

“you confuse me. for years we've gotten close, comfortable. but all of a sudden you avoided me like the plague. i hated it.” his face changes with a mixture of emotions.

“i.. i really fucking like you. and i'm confused as if you feel the same way, you seemed pissed to even be with me right now so. it's just odd. you're acting odd.

because sometimes you're like fucking into me. you even brought me lunch at some point. and now with the ignoring me bullshit? i just don't get it.” he dropped his shoulders, eyes widening slightly.

“so do you like me or not? or should i just leave you the fuck alone?”

“yes and no.”

his face scrunched up in confusion. “so-”

“ugh! just shut up! i like you- okay? is that what you wanted to hear?”

“yes, actually.” he breathed a sigh of relief, a joking hand laid over his chest. “you're confusing.”

“i know.”

“you're close.”

“i mean you sat here-”

“can i kiss you?”

a crack of sunlight dawned through the small corridor, illuminating his eyes, and to him your body. you knew what you'd say for yourself, but you didn't mind this time.

because it's what you truly wanted.

“i thought you'd never ask.”

you felt his lips on yours in an instant, his arms wrapping around your lower back and caging you into him, the buzzing of your phone going unnoticed as he tilted his head against yours.

breathless. the only real word you could use to describe how you felt right now, after having pulled away.

you didn't have a chance to wipe your lip gloss off his face, not before mirko and jeanist stood behind you two, her hands on her hips as a smirk came over her face.

“i see someone was having fun.”

oh right. the mission..

“not like it matters anymore, but we caught the villains. i texted you about it, but when you didn't respond jeanist over here told us to come

quickly.”

she gestured over to a face-palming jeanist, who only said, “it seems you two had more pressing matters to deal with.” katsuki wiped the lip gloss off his lips, wincing at the sticky feeling left on his face.

mirko snorted, while you hung your head in embarrassment, and katsuki looked away from the two of them.

“you know what? stay out as long as you two lovebirds would like. i'll cover for the two of you.”

“what? really?”

she winked at you, and mouthed “wingman”, before turning to leave. “if you're really questioning me, i'll just not let you g-”

katsuki cut her off. “it's cool. thanks, see you losers.” he grabbed your hand, pulling you effortlessly off the ground, a bit into his chest as he led you to start walking off.

“'got somewhere cool to show ya’.” is all he said, before taking you to a restaurant he frequented, or so he told you. he ordered the spiciest plate, and you chose one to your preference. you got a dessert, he skipped out though because of his disdain for them.

“katsuki, i really should tell you something.”

“go ahead.”

it was your turn now to breath, looking up at the ceiling and shutting your eyes as you blurted out, “i was hit by a truth quirk, i avoided you because i was scared to confess to you, and now i feel guilty.”

no sound was heard other than the clacking of utensils and movement in the background, you opened your eyes to see a bakugo who looked as if he was holding in his laugh.

“seriously? that was it?” you could hear the smile in his voice, his hand moved to cover his mouth. “no- i mean that's super crazy [name], very justified response.”

“you're rude.”

“no, no i'm being real.” he could barely hide the casual giggle being let out, “like, it's crazy how hard that must've been. no immediate solutions at all.”

“well, i'm emotionally invested so obviously it was harder for me to think!”

“why didn't you just tell mr. aizawa, he could've canceled it out for you in class.”

“.. i didn't think of that.”

he couldn't help it anymore, he burst out laughing, having to cover his hand with his mouth to keep from cackling.

meanwhile, you crossed your arms and looked straight-faced. “this isn't funny at all by the way.”

he finally calmed down enough, grabbing your hand from across the table and still smirking slightly.

“sorry, sorry. fucking sore ass subject, i got it. let's get out of here already.”

“right, you ruined the atmosphere.”

“sure i did.”

he paid, and for your last stop of the day, he got you ice cream at a park. you just wanted to sit down, legs tired from the amount of walking you did today.

licking at your favorite flavor, he holds up his ice cream to your mouth to try. it was a sour, savory flavor. but you ended up liking it.

the moon was out now, greeting the two of you as you sat side-by-side, illuminating your bodies with the reflected rays of the sun.

it felt late you realized, and you looked down at your phone’s time, sighing in happiness.

it was 12:00, you were free.

“hey katsuki, ask me something.”

“uh.. did you enjoy our day today?”

“no.” a face of annoyance grew on his face, while one of excitement adorned yours. “see? it's over!”

“you can say that.”

“no dumbass! i lied, i really did enjoy today! the quirk is over.” you leaned back raising your hands in glee. “i'm free!”

he laughed, leaning back with you and looking at the constellation’s in the sky.

“well, since you're free now, i'll ask you one final question.”

“hm?” you turned to look at him, his hand rose to grab yours in his. his fingers ran over your knuckles.

“can i be your boyfriend?”

you paused, before a smile erupted over your face once again.

“you could've asked me earlier, and my answer would still be the same,”

so, obviously yes.”

he grinned, pulling you into him.

you sealed your answer with a kiss. soft, endearing, long, and truthful. his hands were tangled in your hair, your hands around the upper part of his back.

as you pulled away, you could only hope this would last forever, that the feeling of honesty and security would be forever eternal as you laid against his chest, pointing out things you'd saw in the stars.

but looking at him once more, you knew it'd be alright.

it was the truth written in the stars, after all.

end.

tags: @k0z3me @darhinadadragon @maddietries @exoticrasin @lavendarstarz @hisonlyobsession @i-the-fluffo @cookielovesbook-akie @frosted-flakes @irenne-stans @lulumi1u @bakunis

[botslayer]

If the fire, sulfur, black iron, and devils every which way didn't give it away, both of us aren't in a place you want to be after you die. I'd offer you a drink but the only things they offer you usually came out of... Well. You. My own blood has a pretty good palete.

You don't have to panic. Not yet. You aren't dead, again, not yet. You're only here because everyone gets a fair warning. So change your ways, yadda yadda, find Christ, yadda yadda... Can you tell my heart isn't in it? Good. At least they'll vary up the torture for it. You get sick of eating hunks off of yourself and still being able to feel it the whole time.

Oh... You want to know what I did for that punishment? Well. It started when I was alive. I killed a man in self defense. Robber broke in, I shot him. And it was all down hill from there. I moved out to the woods after the third guy... Mostly because the best I could do there was plead manslaughter.

Anyway. I bought a plot of land not too far from a hiking trail, built a little shack. Turned it into quite the operation. I was a one-man Sawyer family. I had butcher knives, cleavers, cutting boards, sausage stuffers... I remember the first time I ate a man in those woods. The first woman was alright. I screwed up the spices for her liver, though. Live and learn. All in all? I musta got about twelve or thirteen hapless hikers where they needed to be. And I ate like a king for six years.

Why only six? Throw another skull on the fire and I'll tell you... Thank you. See. One night, another guy came traipsing up the path. Another lost and weary traveler. Two in one day, would you believe it? But winter was coming. So a quick stock up in the event of being snowed in was necessary. Problem was I was outside having a smoke and I was still draining the latest one. If he saw that there'd be no mistake what I was up to.

So here comes a seven foot slab of man. Treating the cold around him like it wasn't much of an issue. One thin hoodie over a thin T-shirt and some overalls. I took to a short conversation with him as I sized him up. He had about a foot of height on me and he was built. Big country, cornfed son of a bitch.

"Who're you?" "Who are you?" "Why are you on my property?" "You can own property this close to a hiking trail?" So on and so on... And then I asked if he knew how to get back to the trail. It was getting dark, you see. I offered to help him back if He'd just let me nab my hiking boots. He agreed and I tried to circle around him. I figured he would still be looking at my front door. Waiting like a big old dog.

But when I exited the side, butcher knife in hand, he was holding a woodcutter's axe. Still looking at the door though. I could tell his tool wasn't mine. Crazy bastard must have had it strapped to his back... I took the chance and leapt at him from the side. He shook me off but the fight forced the door to my cabin open and he got a good look at the woman on the hook. I had left the TV on and was listening to it as I smoked, lit her up enough to see.

I'll remember until eternity, when else is there to remember to down here? But I'll remember until eternity what he said after I got to my feet. "Well... This is awkward," and I think it was a joke. I don't know. But I couldn't help but laugh. "I suppose it is."

But we looked at each other... And we kept sizing each other up. I knew my chances of surviving a face-to-face fight with a bigger man with more reach were minimal... If I recall correctly, he didn't want to fight. "We don't have to do this. I could help you butcher if you want..." But I tell you no lie when I tell you meeting a kindred spirit. One so forceful. One so... Comparatively Jovial. I was in love. And love makes us all do crazy things.

The next few minutes for both of us was a game of hack-and-seek. And we were both it. I don't know if he felt the same, but I think we were both having fun slinking around my house and yard. It was a hell of a way to spend my last hour or so on Earth.

But he caught me. I rounded just the wrong corner and he had me by the scruff of my neck. His weapon, unwieldy as it was with a single hand gave me just the time I needed. I stabbed him in the throat just in time to feel the axe crack though my rib cage and split my heart. I died on top of him... I remember trying to kiss him but I don't think I got close enough to his chin.

And now I feel it is another punishment for me. To never see my darling Francis again... I take some solice knowing he hasn't seen me, either... Maybe it means he felt the same. Who can say?

... Your presence in this realm is fading... Well, your arm is translucent, that's usually a dead give away, no pun intended... Just remember. Change your ways. Or you might end up with a good view of what's happening to everyone else while what happens to you, whatever it is, goes on and on. And on. And on. And on. And on.

After successfully leading your next target to your murder-shed in the woods, they pull out an axe from themself and proclaim "oh, this is awkward."

[0mg-bird]

Lover’s Rock~ S. Reid

Spencer Reid x Fem Reader

Summary: Spencer isn’t the only one that stands out in the crowd, but maybe that’s a good thing, because that’s what leads him to you.

Warnings: I didn’t really proof read, I’ll do it later lol. 18+ content towards the end. Um Reid is such a dweeb and adorable???? Fluff, mentions of alcohol and embarrassment. Reader is so twee (can we bring twee back or no?) idk she makes questionable fashion choices.

Really, this wasn’t your thing.

The bar scene, the club dresses all the girls where, the high heels and the whole game of cat and mouse that all the guys want to play. But you’re here, you made an effort to appease your best friends who claim you have no social life.

The entire night so far, they watched you strike out with the guys they motioned over because in their mind, you’re desperate and lonely and lame.

Okay, maybe that’s more of your headspace than theirs, but they’ve been offering you pity glances this whole time.

You’ve made a decision a while ago that maybe there was no romance out there for you. You were just born with some aspect that made normal, sane guys physically run away, and maybe that’s fine. You were really good on your own. And it never did feel right when you had a guy, if it didn’t feel like the movies, it wasn’t worth it.

Right?

Okay, maybe you should settle, at some point, you’ll be too old to marry and you’ll just keep working, with no real life and take care of Shelly, your goldfish. Maybe it won’t be perfect, but it’ll be someone to share things with.

You let out a huff and watch the ice melt in your drink, not bothering to smile when your friend tells you to brighten up.

Normally, you’re a ray of sunshine, but something about getting rejected four consecutive times is raining on your parade.

An entire bar full of happy people in their element, and it’s just you, sticking out like a sore thumb, especially when your friends go dance with a few guys they hit it off with.

Too busy looking at the buckle on the ankle strap of your heel, you are sinking somewhere in your mind, to a place where you aren’t listening to cheap song lyrics of and realizing that table is stickier than you thought.

“Where’s Reid?”

“Reid.”

“Spencer!” Penelope smacks his shoulder, pulling him from the trance of his eyes on the book pages.

He looks up from the corner booth, seeing his team has returned with drinks.

“Are you seriously reading right now?” Morgan criticizes, placing a beer in front of the younger agent.

Spencer doesn’t know why he does this, beer tastes like a plowed hay field in his opinion. But he takes the drink in gratitude and before he can explain that he was just trying to finish the Russian publishing of ‘Crime and Punishment’, Morgan rips the book from his hands and tosses it to Emily for safe keeping.

“I- what was that for?” Spencer questions with a unjust squeak, feeling rather sad.

“Look around, kid, do you see how many fine ladies are here? You don’t need to be sitting here with your nose between the pages of Little Women.” Morgan states as a matter of fact.

“Yeah, nobody puts baby in the corner.” Penelope agrees.

With an airy scoff, Spencer looks to the other members for help, but they all seem to side with Derek.

He gains a defeated frown.

Spencer didn’t want to be here in the first place, now he’s being forced out into the public to socialize. There has to be a law against this, he knows there’s not because he knows everything, but he is certainly going to try and create one.

“Oh come on, Spence, why don’t you try to get a date?” JJ asks, meaning well, but the laugh that comes from Emily makes him want to recoil.

“C’mon, I’ll help you.” Morgan offers, pulling him from the booth seat.

“Yeah, that never really works well when you try to be my wingman, you usually end up with all the phone numbers.” Spencer claims, pressing his lips into a line.

But like some mock savior, Morgan stands behind Reid as they wait by the bar.

“What about her?” Morgan would point out.

To which Reid would respond with some variation of ‘she’s too much’ or ‘she definitely has a boyfriend three times my size’.

After fifteen minutes of this back and forth, Morgan is seriously regretting he forced the hermit out of his shell.

And that’s when a rowdy group finally leaves and clears the path of vision to you.

Still sat at a high table with one leg crossed over the other, you wiggle your foot as you doodle on a drink napkin.

Reid misses whatever Morgan says, and in that air of silence, the agent follows the vision.

“Okay, now we’re getting somewhere.” Derek chuckles, clapping Reid on the shoulder. “She’s pretty. Go talk to her.”

“What?” Reid looks away. “No, no, I don’t want to disturb her.”

You let out a very bored sigh.

Derek’s brows furrow. “I know you’re some boy genius but you really are dumb sometimes. Everything about that girl is screaming ‘put me outa my misery’.”

Spencer tilts his head slightly, watching you rub your eye and then frown at the way you smudged your already smudged eye liner.

“Okay, maybe you’re right.” He nods. “But…what do I say?”

Derek grins. “Compliment her, ask if she wants another drink, strike up a conversation. It’s easy, man.”

Spencer gets an uneasy feeling in him, but he still braves through it. “Easy for you, maybe.” He mumbles before running a hand through his hair and takes a step towards you.

“Go get her, tiger!” Morgan encourages.

When he returns to the team with the happy news, Penelope asks if Spencer’s gonna do good.

“Oh, definitely not, we’ll be lucky if he doesn’t trip over his own feet on the way over there.��� Derek answers, laughing.

But Spencer makes it to you without a stumble, yet his whole plan leaves his mind when he gets to you.

You’re gorgeous, too pretty for him.

“Nice legs.”

Did he just say that?

You look up at him upon hearing his voice, your wide eyes confused.

“I’m sorry?” You question, not sure if you heard this stranger correctly.

He’s a rather handsome stranger.

“No- I mean I like your legs- tights! Not your legs, you have nice legs of course but that’s not- your tights are nice- cool! Different?”

Oh god, he should just walk away now. He’s already messed this whole thing up and surely you think he’s an idiot.

While he’s got an embarrassed look on his face, you look down at the red lace tights you wear under your skirt, something your friends questioned as a fashion choice.

“You really like them?” You ask, voice soft to his ears.

He stops his rambling.

“Yeah, of course I do, I think they’re cool.” He smiles softly.

You can’t help but grin bashfully.

“Every guy I’ve talked to tonight thought they were a little weird, but that’s okay, I kinda like weird.” You admit, watching as he shakes his head.

“People say my socks are weird all the time, don’t feel bad.” He comforts, pulling the material of his pants up so you can see his mismatched socks with funky colors and prints on them.

“Those are cool.” Your approval eases him, giving him just enough reassurance that you aren’t going to scream for help in the next two minutes.

“I’m Dr. Spencer Reid- sorry, force of habit, uh, just Spencer. I-I’m Spencer.” He introduces with the smallest of wave.

Still smiling more than you have the entire night, you greet him. He repeats your name like it has some special meaning, and you’ve never loved the sound of it more.

“I was going to get a drink, what are you having?” He asks, looking at your sweating glass. “Vodka soda? Cherry sour?”

You blush. “It’s actually a shirley temple…I just ate all the cherries out of it already.”

Without hesitation, he nods. “Okay, I’ll be back.”

He leaves you at your table, and then your brief moment of sunshine is clouded once more by doubt. What if he doesn’t come back? What if he drugs your drink and then you wake up in an alley somewhere, missing your wallet and phone and your tights that he thinks are so cool?

This was a bad idea. Dating isn’t for you. He seemed so nice and he’s so attractive but that should have been your first red flag and-

Oh. He’s coming back.

With two shirley temples.

He places them on the table and waits for you to grab one, then he grabs the other and takes a sip.

“You mind if I sit?” He asks.

Feeling a little silly for assuming he was out to maim you, you nod.

“I seriously doubt my friends remember I’m over here, so feel free to stay.” You joke at your expense.

He sits across from you, sparing a glance over his shoulder at his team who make it very obvious that they’re staring.

You study his profile, a shaggy haircut that falls across his forehead, all tousled in an effortless way. His jaw line is defined, round brown eyes that flick back to you. When he catches you looking, he grins once more.

It’s never been so…easy, having a ‘get to know you’ conversation. Questions come without second thoughts, you find yourself laughing, actually laughing.

Playing with your straw, you try to calm your facial expressions, your cheeks are starting to hurt from beaming so much.

“So, Dr. Reid, huh?” You ask, making him let out a small huff of embarrassment.

“That’s what the PhD’s say, yeah.” He scratches the back of his neck, suddenly feeling really dorky about his immense amount of education.

It’s not dorky to you. Every guy you’ve talked to tonight dropped out of community college because ‘it didn’t align with their career paths’ of selling protein smoothies or working in some ‘underground’ record store.

But here Spencer is, explaining he’s on the behavioral analysis unit for the FBI and he tells you about all the degrees he has. All you can think about as he talks of universities and the academy is, knowledge is such a sexy look on a guy. Sure, you’ve never really liked the underachieving stoners, but usually you’ve been with guys who seem to say “you like school?” when you talk about working towards your Masters degree.

“Wow.” Is all you can say for a moment, clearly shocked and, well, impressed. “I really wasn’t expecting that.”

“That’s what most people say.” He nods, picking the cherry in his drink out by the stem and offering it to you.

By your thankful eyes batting up at him, he’s tempted on going behind the bar and bringing you all the maraschino cherries they have. He quickly turns the conversation around to focus on you so he can focus on something other than the stained color on your lips.

“What about you? What do you do?” He asks.

Compared to his job, yours seems too normal, too mundane. You almost want to avoid the question, never once have you been unsatisfied with your career but now you can’t help it. What if Spencer doesn’t like you because you don’t work for NASA?

That’s ridiculous, because to Spencer, your job makes his adoration grow.

“Oh, I’m just a teacher.” You say, fiddling with a stem in your mouth.

Spencer gains a soft smile. “You could never just be a teacher, teacher’s are important. Well, unless you’re a sucky teacher.”

His joke earns a bubbly giggle and he decides he’d like to hear that sound forever. It’s moments like this that he’s glad to have an eidetic memory.

“I don’t think I’m a sucky teacher so that’s good, my students seem to like me.” You state, pushing your hair behind your ear and dropping the knotted stem onto a napkin.

Spencer finds himself leaning a little closer, body naturally gravitating to your pull. “What do you teach?” He asks.

“I work for my schools gifted children program, so I basically teach kid geniuses advanced core curriculum because they’ve tested out of their normal classes.” You chuckle, oblivious to the way Spencer’s heart warms.

He remains quiet for a bit too long, just staring at you with an honest look, one that makes you feel like you’re turned inside out and bared for him. The panic rises again, you think you must have said something to ruin it.

“I know it’s nothing special-” You begin to say.

“No.” He interrupts, a sure tone. “I-I think it’s great. Really, that’s not an easy job.”

Deep breath out, you’re put at ease.

“I constantly have imposter syndrome, these kids are twelve and bringing up philosophies and mathematical formulas I have to go home and study because I haven’t even learned them yet. Honestly, sometimes I don’t even think they need me there.” You joke lightly, half meaning it but masking that slight insecurity by finishing off your drink.

“They need you.” Spencer assures, an expression showing he’s never been more sure of something. “Believe me, you’re probably the only person they see in a school day that understands them.”

Brows creased, you shake your head, holding his rather intimidating gaze for such puppy dog eyes.

“What makes you so sure?” You question.

Spencer takes in a breath. “Because I know what it’s like to be twelve years old and telling a grown adult about Fermat’s Last Theorem.”

Sometimes, the world has a funny way of putting two people together. For years, you’ve wandered through life and on a random Friday night, feeling a little flushed from the Summer air, here is Spencer Reid, the man of your dreams.

Your friends left some time ago after you assured them you were fine to be left at the place you were just complaining about being. You don’t mind being left with Spencer, in fact, you’re dreading the time you have to go home because it means this moment is over.

“I really would like to live in New York.” You exclaim, somehow have fallen into the rabbit hole of dreams for the future.

“New York’s really cool!” He agrees. “Did you know that they have a homicide rate of 4.48 percent right now? It’s been declining since the nineties.”

You must make some sort of surprised face because his eyes go wide and he quickly tried to recover his odd statement.

“Sorry, my job isn’t really full of happy statistics. But mostly we just find dead prostitutes in alleys in New York.”

His blushed cheeks make your heart flutter in its beats.

“I’m glad I’m not a prostitute.” You giggle, making him chew his bottom lip for a moment.

“Yeah, I’m glad you’re not either.”

By the time the team gets their coats back on with the intention of heading home, they look across the room to see their quirky doctor friend is partaking in very friendly body language.

“Oh my god, look at him.” Emily laughs. “He’s finally using that big IQ of his.”

Penelope, who comes to hold onto Morgan’s arm, grins rather proudly. “It’s like a butterfly finally coming out of its cocoon. It’s…beautiful, actually.”

Derek laughs down at her. “I think that last long island ice tea was a bad idea. Come on, baby, let’s get you home.”

“Good luck, my fine friend.” She calls in the general direction of you and Spencer, but the two of you don’t notice.

JJ ties her hair up and starts to take a few steps forward.

“Where are you going?” Penelope questions.

“To let him know we’re leaving?”

“No!” The team seems to exclaim, all shouting that she cannot disturb the moment Spencer worked rather hard to get to.

She just holds her hands up in defense, then follows after Emily as they leave the bar.

Spencer of course notices the way Prentiss leaves him with an encouraging thumbs up. It makes his get a little bashful, but he nods a goodbye and watches the door shut once more. His attention is brought back to his hand on the table, well, more to the way your pinky brushes against his. You continue to talk about mutual interests and what your apartment in New York would look like, a slight ramble to you that shows you’re very aware of the slight contact.

With some kind of placebo courage he can’t even blame on alcohol, he lets his fingers crawl between yours like that’s where they belong.

The team would definitely laugh at this teenage display, but to the both of you, it’s the perfect amount of reassurance, soft enough to not be too scary.

The attraction is there, Spencer forces himself to profile it just so his negative thoughts can’t prove him wrong. You’re smiling at every word, your eyes seem to stay dilated and focused on his, and he isn’t sure if you even realize the way your heel brushes his ankle every so often.

His profile, often never wrong, is what helps him reach across the slight space to tuck your hair behind your ear so casually as he tells you about his minuscule music taste.

After a few flirty comments, you force yourself yo look away from him just so you can het your breathing under control. Upon this action, you read the watch on his wrist and a frown sets on your lipstick stained lips.

“I should go home before it’s too late to walk.” You sigh, not wanting this moment to end.

He nods. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”

Those round eyes he’s starting to really adore look up at him and you chew your lip, almost like you’re waiting for him to do something. Say something.

It takes him entirely too long to figure out what to do. Morgan would be ashamed.

“C-Can I walk you home?” He asks in a rush and in eagerness.

You nod like that’s the best idea you’ve ever heard.

That’s how it leads to you leaning against him like it’s something you do often, walking in step as you ramble on and on about what you have to do to get your classroom ready for the new school year. He listens without annoyance like most guys would, then tells you about books he has that he thinks you might enjoy, books he could part with so you could give them to the students whose reading levels are above what the school provides.

He’s so caring and considerate, making sure he walks closest to the street, lets you be off in your own world and makes sure you don’t run into anything as you constantly gaze up at him. All the way to your building and up the stairs to your apartment door, the two of you are as comfortable with each other like two old friends would be.

That’s what makes your head spin. You just met Spencer and already feel like he’s been in your life for hundreds of years.

You pull your keys from your purse, you unlock the door but don’t make a move to open it.

“I’m really, really, happy that I met you.” You whisper to him as he slightly crowds your space in the door way.

“I am too.” He agrees, heart beating a little faster as your hand presses gently to his chest.

Don’t be crazy, you just met her, she doesn’t want a stranger trying to kiss her, tell her good night, call her tomorrow, maybe you can plan for something next weekend-

His thoughts don’t stand a chance when you wrap your fingers around his tie and gently tug him to your lips.

It’s smooth and warm and has your eyes shutting and your lungs exhaling. His gentle hand cradles your face while the other flexes against your hip.

It just feels so…

So right.

With the slight tilt of your head, the goodnight kiss deepens, you’re molded against him.

His lips part, coaxing yours to do the same, and the feeling of your tongue against his has you slightly teetering backwards. You lean against the door for support, hands roaming into his hair.

You’ve been wanting to run your hands through it all night.

He’s desperate in his movements, like he’s a starved man and you’re enjoying every second of it. His thumb runs over your jaw, you’re pushing away any space between you.

When you decide you’re going to pass out from the lack of oxygen, you pull away, sucking your bottom lip to savor the taste. Spencer still holds your face in his large hands and matches your shallow pants.

It’s all so much. You’re hot, brain a little foggy, but still so sure of this situation.

And you soon find yourself saying something you’ve never ever said after just meeting a guy.

“Do you want to come inside?”

Spencer seriously thinks he misheard you.

“Yeah- yes. Yes, I do.” He nods.

A laugh escapes your lips, one he swallows up as he embraces you once more, trying to help you open the door. His arm around your waist makes sure you don’t stumble and fall as the two of you finally get inside.

He looks around the space. “I like your apartment, it’s nice.”

“Thank you.” You mumble against his lips, pulling at your jean jacket and tossing it to the couch.

It’s dark, causing you to back into a side table. The both of you laugh, but neither of you bother to reach for the light switch.

You guid him towards your bedroom, pushing him through the ajar door. The open window leaves the room painted in a low light, the breeze is cool as you clumsily fall onto the mattress with him.

“I never do this.” You state, a huff leaving your lips as he rolls you onto your back.

“I don’t either.” He agrees, mouth wandering down your jaw to your neck.

You fiddling hands make a home in his hair. “Like I really don’t do this. I don’t even go to bars, let alone take home strange men- not that you’re strange. But don’t think I am a casual hookup girl, because I’m not, I just- there’s a connection, right? I’m not alone in this?”

He pulls away, looking down at you with a loopy grin. “You’re rambling, that’s a sign of nervousness.”

“I am nervous!” You exclaim with a breathy laugh. “You’re just…you’re really great.”

His thumb traces your bottom lip. “You’re really great too.” He whispers. “But we don’t have to do anything.”

“No!” You say a little too boldly. “I mean, no, no I want this. Do you want this?”

With a nod, he assures you. “I want this too.”

Maybe you should be more shy and self conscious about this, but when he’s being so kind, all your nervousness leaves. The two of you stumble through the awkward bits with laughter and jokes, and it makes you realize that something so serious doesn’t have to be so uniform.

Really, you’re having more fun than you’ve ever had.

“Spencer?” You gasp, dangerously close to falling off the bed at how the two of you have rolled around.

“Yeah?” He asks, head buried in your neck, trying not to get too ahead of himself as he continues his deep pace between your legs.

“You’re kinda pulling my hair.”

Immediately he moves his hand, apologetic.

Hands dragging up his chest, you try to shimmy away from the mattress ledge. Spencer notices the tragedy that’s about to strike, opting to back off of you completely so you can readjust.

You gasp at the loss of contact. “A little warning next time would be appreciated.”

“Sorry, sorry.” He stammers, gripping you in a feverish way, mouth back to yours.

You don’t exactly know how you ended up on top, but you look at him slightly frightened eyes.

“Is this a no?” He questions, only concerned with making you comfortable.

He’s the complete opposite of selfish, he proved that the second he started you off with his tongue against your core.

“No, not if you like this? I just…I don’t know if I’m good at this.”

He nods in understanding. “Okay, no problem.”

You protest as he goes to move you. “Can I try? Will-will you help me?”

God, he could marry you.

“Yeah, of course sweetheart.” He whispers, kissing you gently.

The butterflies in your stomach are all twitter pated.

Or maybe you’re just extremely turned on.

Spencer is a great teacher, it’s you who jumps the gun at things.

“There you go, angel, slow.” He breathes in your ear, finger tips pressing into your hips as you slowly push down, letting his tip enter you. “Just go really slow, okay?”

You try to do as he says, easing him into you slowly, but by some urge to rush satisfaction, you sink all the way onto him without warning.

“Fuck! That wasn’t slow.” He grits, a hoarse moan escaping from the back of his throat, his grip on you almost bruising.

“S-sorry.” You try to say, but the sheer pressure you feel at this sudden angle has you shuddering and crying out softly. “I’m an overachiever.” You try to joke.

“Holy shit, you want an A+ or something?” He chuckles, trying to calm himself down, running through mathematical formulas in his head so he doesn’t finish just like this.

“Spence, I need- it’s a lot, I need-” You whine out, not having the heart to feel embarrassed for sounding so needy.

“I know, I know. Fuck, do you have any idea how good you feel?” He questions, swallowing hard as he guides your hips forward slightly.

“I can’t really think at all when you’re sitting in my cervix right now.” You claim, quickly overwhelmed by pleasure as you find a rhythm against him.

Sucking on your throat, he mutters something you don’t care to listen to.

“This is- is it supposed to be this good?” You moan, trying not to dig your finger nails into his shoulders.

“I think we just fit perfectly.”

With each movement, you become more comfortable and confident, soon that friendly softness is replaced by lustful roughness. Through it all, Spencer remains caring, even when you tell him he can be a little rough with you.

Never in your sex life have you wanted more and more, even when it finishes.

Even after the two of you can’t find the strength to pull any more orgasms from each other, you lay beside each other, Spencer hasn’t bothered to pull out of you yet, perhaps he’s too spent.

“So.” You clear your throat, tracing his features. “How do you want to play this?”

He hums, dragging his fingers up and down your side. “What do you mean?”

“Guys usually leave after this stuff, right?”

His brows furrow, anxiety comes to ripple through him. “Do you want me to leave?”

Staring at his tired eyes, you shake your head. “No, I want you to stay. Forever. I’m thinking about chaining you to the headboard.”

He chuckles. “I’ll save you the effort, I will gladly stay.”

A sweet smile is returned to him.

At some point, the two of you clean up and fall asleep the second the sheets are pulled over you.

Spencer is convinced it’s all a dream until he wakes up to the sun warm over his skin. He rubs his blurry eyes and rolls over in the bed that is not his, met with your bare back. Slowly, he reaches for you, kissing your shoulder to rouse you.

His phone, still in the pocket of his discarded pants, rings again and again, forcing him to retrieve it in his boxers.

Of course it’s Hotch.

Of course he needs to get to the office. On a Saturday. After the night he just had.

“I should call the authorities, there’s a cute intruder in my room.” Your sleepy voice says from bed. “Oh wait…you are the authorities.”

He likes the way you can make yourself giggle.

“I have bad news.” He says, tracking down his clothes. “My boss just called me in.”

He hates the frown you have.

“That’s a very unfortunate thing.” You nod.

He buttons his pants, then slides his shirt on as he comes to your bedside.

“I should get going so I can go home and change.”

His warm hand presses to your cheek.

You turn to kiss his palm. “Is this goodbye?”

“No. Definitely no.” He assures. “I’ll call when I can, okay? Maybe we can get dinner or something?”

You could sigh heavenly at the way he’s just so dreamy.

“That sounds nice. I’d kiss you but I might have morning breath.” You smile.

He kisses you anyway.

And after leaving the team waiting in the round table room, he appears refreshed and in a very good mood.

He takes his seat, all eyes on him.

“Sorry I’m late, good morning.” He clears his throat.

“Good morning indeed.” Morgan chuckles, sliding him a cup of coffee.

“You okay, Reid?” Rossi asks, eyeing the agent.

“I’m great.” He smiles.

“Is that a hickey?” JJ exclaims, reveling in the way he quickly grabs for his neck, only to realize she’s joking.

“Real mature.” He mutters, knowing the entire day is going to be jokes made at his expense.

He doesn’t mind though, not when he knows his reward for all of this is you.

[hoshifighting]

hellooo I just want to say that I like your blog, I really like your writing style🫶🏻🫶🏻 AND

what do you think about Vernon finding the reader's twitter spam account? at first, without saying anything, he follows her from a fake account and learns her fetishes and things like that. then he can't hold back and teasing the reader because of this situation and does all the things she reposts, all she wants and imagines(I honestly can't decide whether they will be friends or lovers and I leave it to you)

thank you very much in advance🩷🩷🩷🩷

when vernon finds out about your freaky tweets

WARNINGS: smut, face slapping, BIG DICK!VERNON, cock riding, mentions of hair pulling, dirty talk, choking.

it starts innocently enough; you’ve got your little spam account, this place where you post anything that comes to mind without a second thought. it’s private, anonymous—you’re safe, or so you think. until one day, you start noticing a new follower, someone with zero posts and a random handle, lurking in the notifications. you brush it off, figuring it’s just some bot. but vernon… well, vernon's been piecing things together. and one night, after reading one of your latest posts—something so NASTY that practically burned his screen—he decides he can't just pretend he hasn’t seen it. so he waits until you’re in the living room next saturday, all comfortable, maybe a little too comfortable. you look up, seeing him standing there with that little frown he gets when he's too stressed to understand something, a raised eyebrow, and his phone in his hand.

“so… ‘i just want him to hold me down and—’” he reads aloud, and you feel everything in you freeze up as he raises an eyebrow at you. “‘then pull my hair back so i can see his face… maybe, idk, slap me around a little?’ really, y/n?”

you scramble, trying to play it cool “vernon—wait, why—where’d you see that?”

“oh, i dunno. i’ve been following this account for a while. figured i’d wait until you posted something really crazy before bringing it up.”

you stammer, face going hot. “i—you didn’t have to read it out loud like that, jesus.”

“oh, come on,” he says, leaning in, crowding your space just enough to make you feel cornered “you can post it, but i can’t say it?”

you swallow hard “i didn’t… i didn’t think you’d see it.”

“didn’t think i’d find out?” he echoes, voice dropping a little. “you know, all this time, i’ve been seeing these little things you like. i didn’t say anything because i thought you’d be embarrassed. but now…” he smirks, leaning back with a sigh, watching you. “now i think maybe i should give you some of what you’re so clearly craving.”

“vernon,” you say, trying to keep your voice steady, but it’s hard when he’s looking at you like he’s imagining every filthy thing you’ve ever posted.

he smirks, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “oh, don’t go all shy on me now. i’ve read what you want. all of it. let’s start with the basics, huh?” his hand trails down, tipping your chin up, thumb brushing over your bottom lip. “you wanna ride me? why didn’t you just say so?”

you feel your heart pounding as he pulls you closer, he's practically purring as he goes, “or that other thing you posted—what was it? something about choking you?” he wraps his hand lightly around your throat, thumb brushing over the sensitive skin as he watches your reaction. “like this?”

you almost cant nod, you're melting, your breath coming short as he tightens his grip just enough to make you feel it “so pretty when you’re horny,” he murmurs, fingers pressing just a little more.

and when you shake your head, he grins, pulling you onto his lap, guiding you to straddle him as his hands settle on your hips “guess i’ve gotta make up for all those little fantasies you’ve been hiding, huh?”

“you sure you can handle it?” he whispers, leaning in, lips brushing against your neck. “’cause i don’t think you really knew what you were asking for when you posted all that.”

but you nod, he tilts your head up, lips brushing over yours, and you feel his hand come up, palm grazing over your cheek before he slaps you—just a little, just enough to make you gasp. he chuckles when you moan, liquefying on his lap, fingers tilting your face back to him.

[...]

he’s already watching you with a azy smirk, eyes rolling sliighty as you sink down onto him, your thighs trembling as you struggle to take all of him in. and god, he’s big. you knew he would be—you’d guessed it a dozen times in all those reckless tweets, wondering just how good it’d feel, but feeling it now, it’s like all that teasing turned on you, stretching you almost too much, and every inch you take feels like a challenge.

“aww, look at you,” he coos, his hands resting on your hips, fingers rubbing little circles into your skin as you try to ease down, taking him deeper, even though it’s making your breath catch, making you whimper and shake. “what happened, baby? i thought you said you could handle it.”

you bite your lip, cheeks burning, and he chuckles, leaning in closer, voice low and teasing. “or maybe you just wanted me to be big so you could talk all that shit on your little account,” he murmurs, running his thumb over your lip. “all those tweets you made, talking about wanting me to be, what—eight, nine inches?” he grins, watching the way you flush, the way your hands grip his shoulders to steady yourself. “think you got what you wished for, hm?”

“shut up,” you manage to whisper, but it’s so breathless, your body clenching around him, and he laughs, hands guiding you down just a bit further, his hips lifting just a little to meet you, that makes you gasp, makes you try to pull back, but he keeps you there, fingers firm on your hips.

“no, no, let’s see you take it,” he whispers, voice rough with that soft teasing. “come on, baby. don’t tell me this is too much. you wanted all of it, right?”

you nod, trying to adjust, but it’s almost too much fr, too thick, too deep, and he watches you with those hooded eyes, savoring every single whimper you make. “it’s okay,” he says softly, almost soothing as he leans up to kiss you, but you can hear that cocky lilt in his tone. “you’re doing so good. even if you can’t take all of it… god, you’re trying, huh?”

and he’s right there, brushing his lips over your cheek, murmuring sweet, filthy encouragements into your ear as you sink down a little more, taking just a bit more of him, even though your body’s practically begging for a break. “that’s it… there you go. so good, baby. i’m impressed,” he purrs, hands trailing up your back. “i didn’t think you’d take even this much.”

every time you pause, every time your breath catches, he’s right there, fingers digging into your hips, guiding you, helping you ride him “guess you really wanted to know..” he murmurs, grinning as he watches you struggle, your head falling back as you finally take just a little more, his hands pulling you down hard against him until you can feel every inch of him.

“there it is… that’s my girl,” he whispers, in asatisfied rasp, his eyes dark as he watches you ride him, just as you’d dreamed about, exactly as you’d hoped—only now it’s even better.

[beefcakekinard]

[special thanks to james @louisferrignojr for the idea]

There's buzzing in his ear.

Tommy slaps his hand onto his bedside table and drags it across the top in search of his phone. He finds it – his eyes are too blurry from sleep to see the time or the caller ID, but the dark outside tells him it's ass o'clock, and the only reason to be getting a call is an emergency. He hopes he swipes the right way to accept and brings the phone up to his ear.

"H'llo?" he asks, or tries to, with how his mouth feels glued shut. There's panting on the other end, something- some wet sound.

"Hey, Tommy."

Evan's voice wakes him up faster than any call from the station would.

"E- Buck? Are you okay?"

There's choked laughter on the other end, a sigh. "Mmm, I'm real good, just- just right, in fact." His voice is low, dragging on the syllables. He cuts himself off with a moan.

Oh.

Tommy tries to rub the sleep from his eyes. "I'm gonna go."

"What," Evan goads, "don't you miss- miss the way I, I sound when you fuck me?" Evan’s breath hitches in Tommy's ear. "This is, isn't the piece of you I w-wanted to keep but – ah-" Evan cuts himself off. The next few seconds have Tommy digging his fingers into his own thigh to the sound of Evan's breathing.

"Do, do you think I sh-should have-" Evan's voice breaks, Tommy's fingers ache, "should have put your cock in the box I s-sent Eddie over with earlier?"

Then it clicks.

That stupid clone-a-willy, sitting as a gag gift in the back of Evan's closet until three months ago. When Evan started getting curious about taking more than one cock at a time. When Evan, grinning wickedly, said hold that thought and dove off his bed. It made Tommy laugh at the time. He's not laughing now.

"Buck-"

"You don't call me that."

The vehemence is unexpected, but followed by more heavy breathing. There's a squelch in the background that Tommy can place, now, and he's going to leave bruises on his own leg if he grips any tighter. He focuses on it, the pain, purposefully dragging his attention away from how his cock aches in a decidedly different way.

Evan moans – satisfied, the way he does, did, when Tommy really focused in on his prostate. "You- god, Tommy, you feel so good."

Tommy can feel his resolve weakening like it's a physical thing. "Are you- have you been smoking, or-"

Evan laughs and Tommy feels it slip down his spine. "God. I had- had a couple drinks, dad. Or- sorry, daddy."

Tommy's resolve is all but a memory. He shoves his hand into his boxers and wraps his hand around his cock. It's a little unpleasantly dry, the friction dragging just a little too uncomfortably, but now that he has himself in hand, he doesn't have anywhere near the willpower to pull away, even for just a moment.

"Oh," Evan groans, and the sound is like the lick of a flame in Tommy's gut. "You- you touching yourself, daddy? Remembering what it, fuck, feels like to fuck me?"

Tommy squeezes his hand, tight, tighter, like the memory of the clutch of Evan's body around him. He takes long, hard pulls of his cock, squeezing himself at the tip to help slick the way little by little. It makes him think of how much Evan always leaks – the firehose, he always joked – like there's so much of him to give he's just welling up with it.

"What are you doing? You bouncing on it?" he asks, a man possessed. "Or are you greedy? Holding me to your prostate, using me to make yourself feel good?"

"Fuck," Evan cries out. His breathing gets sharper, shallower, faster. "Daddy, please-"

Tommy's hand races itself up and down his dick and his blood thrums in time with the sounds spilling from Evan's mouth into his ear. "Yeah, yeah, come on, you can get there, come on Evan-"

Evan whines and it vanishes into a groan as he comes, Tommy knows he's coming, and knowing that he brought Evan there has him grunting into his phone's microphone, has him spilling against his fist, into his boxers. Pleasure has never felt so sharp-edged.

Tommy breathes into the phone and relishes the sound of Evan doing the same. The moment stretches, bends the way it always does this time of night. He opens his mouth to speak.

The line clicks dead.

Tommy's left in the dark, his hand in his boxers, spunk drying on his skin.

He throws his phone to the floor.

[fxrmuladaydreams]

angel on his shoulder: happy birthday (op81)

mean!oscar x sweet!reader

summary: oscar struggles to find the perfect gift for your birthday

notes: again, he’s not really mean, but idk what to call him now

wc: 1533

prev. part

You had somehow managed to do it, to worm your way into Oscar’s life, to make yourself a permanent part of his day. What was once passing glances had now turned into soft smiles and quiet conversations. He looked forward to seeing you everyday, to talking with you.

He started saving a seat for you whenever he ate lunch, or sitting closer to Lando during meetings, so he could sit closer to you. He longed to be at the receiving end of your smiles and laughs, and mentally cheered when he was.

Of course spending more time with you meant spending more time with Lando as well. Oscar didn’t dislike Lando, not at all, but Lando could occasionally be… a bit much. Especially when he was wiggling his eyebrows at him for simply talking with you.

He was sitting in the training room at the MTC one day, getting ready to begin his workout when he feels an arm around his shoulders. He turns to see Lando smirking down at him.

“Hey.” He says.

“Hey yourself.” Lando replies. “What are you up to?”

Oscar furrows his eyebrows and looks around the gym. “What do you think?”

Lando rolls his eyes, but smiles as he walks towards a set of weights.

“Is, uh, is Y/n coming around?” Oscar tries to sound casual, but hearing Lando snort makes his face flush.

“To stay with me while I work out? I doubt she’d be interested in that.” He scoffs. “But I bet she’d be more interested if she knew you were here too.”

“What?” Oscar spurts. “Why would she?” He can feel his face burning up.

“No reason.” Lando says, teasingly. “Hey, what are you doing for next week?”

Oscar furrows his brows. “What’s going on next week?”

“Y/n’s birthday.” Lando answers. “You didn’t know?” He turns to look at Oscar.

Oscar tries to think back, wondering if you’ve mentioned your birthday.

“Well it’s next week. I’m throwing a party for her. You can come if you want.”

Oscar nods. “Yeah, yeah I’ll be there.”

Lando grins. “Good. She’ll be glad to hear that.”

Oscar tries to hide the blush he feels spreading on his cheeks.

“I’ve already got her gift picked out and wrapped. Not by me, of course. It’d look like I was handing her a wad of paper.”

“Gift?” Oscar asks. He feels panic beginning to rise in his chest.

“Yeah, gift. It’s a birthday.” Lando laughs. “You have to get her a gift.”

“Right.” Oscar murmurs. He stands up. “I think I’m done here, for the day.” With that he walks out of the training center, gym bag slung over his shoulder, his gaze locked on the ground as he leaves.

“Didn’t even see him do anything.” Lando mumbles to himself.

Oscar spends the rest of the day wracking his brain for something, anything to get you for your birthday. He could get you jewelry? But that seems too intimate. Money? Too casual.

He sits alone while he eats his lunch, staring off into space as he eats, trying to think of something.

“Hey, Os. You okay?” You ask softly placing your food down on the table next to him.

He snaps out of his thoughts, looking at you wide-eyed.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”

You laugh. “I don’t know, you’ve got this weird look on your face.”

He shakes his head. “No I don’t.”

“Okay, fine.” You laugh.

Oscar sighs, looking back at his food, but out of the corner of his eye he sees a book on your lap.

“What’s that?” He asks.

“Oh,” you smile, lifting the book to put it on the table. “It’s the book I’m reading right now.”

Oscar looks at the cover.

“It’s actually like, the tenth time I’m reading it.” You say.

Oscar snorts. “Why?”

“It’s my favorite book.” You shrug. “It’s so good. If you haven’t read it, I highly recommend it.”

Oscar hums.

“No, seriously, it would be so nice to have someone to talk to about it.” You whine. “I tried to get Lando to read it, and do you know what he said? He said ‘I’ll wait for the movie’. Can you believe that?” You ask.

Oscar laughs. “That sounds about right.” He watches as you push the book to the side to eat your lunch. “Hey, I gotta go, but I’ll see you later.”

“Oh, okay, see you.”

Oscar tries not to let the way your shoulders slump affect him. He gathers his things, and leaves you sitting there, pulling out his phone as he walks away.

After work Oscar goes to several different shops, looking for that damned book. He’s just about to give up, when he finally finds one lone copy. He keeps it tucked close to his chest as he walks to the checkout counter, as if afraid someone’s going to try to pry it from his hands.

He spends any free time he has for the week with his nose in the book. He brings it with him to the MTC, he reads it before and after work, he feels like the book becomes a part of him.

He shows up to Lando’s apartment for your party, with his gift tucked under his arm. He’d spent about an hour on picking a shirt, then another on fixing his unruly hair.

He has to admit, he’s surprised when he walks into Lando’s apartment. It’s not the bright rave lights or loud music he’d picture Lando would pick out for a party for himself, instead it’s soft warm lighting with some soft music in the background.

“I see you’ve made it.” Lando says, when he sees Oscar. “And you’ve managed to find a gift.” He smirks. “What’d you get her?”

Oscar shakes his head. “It’s nothing.”

“Keeping it a surprise?”

Before Oscar can answer, he’s pulled into a soft hug. “Thanks for coming, Os.” He hears your voice next to his ear.

Oscar smiles, wrapping an arm around you. “Happy birthday.”

When you pull away Oscar allows himself a moment to admire you. You’re wearing a soft dress that compliments you well. He notices the small sparking stone on the necklace around your neck.

“Pretty necklace.” He says.

You lift a hand to touch the stone. “Thanks. Lando got it for me.”

Oscar feels an uncomfortable twist in his stomach. His eyes search for the brit, who has made himself scarce.

“I told him it was too much. He said it’s the least he can do for me, having to put up with him everyday.” You laugh.

Oscar gives you an unconvincing smile, awkwardly shifting the gift under his arm, the gift he’s starting to feel immensely insecure about.

“Do you want to go sit somewhere?” You ask him. “Lando invited all of these people, but I don’t think I know half of them.” You laugh.

Oscar nods, following you as you lead him to the balcony.

You each take a seat, looking out at the sun setting over Monaco. He can’t help but admire you. The sun makes you practically glow, your eyes quite literally sparkle.

“Thanks for coming, really.” You break the silence. “I appreciate what Lando’s done, but I can’t help but feel a bit… out of place.”

Oscar hums. He holds out his gift to you, figuring it’d be better to deal with the embarrassment of you thinking it’s lame out here alone, rather than inside surrounded by people.

He watches as you tear open the gift, a confused look spreading across your face as you see what it is.

“It’s my book…” You say, holding the same book you showed him at the beginning of the week, though this copy is clearly newer. “Thanks Oscar.” You say, trying to hide your disappointment.

“Open it.”

You look at him confused again. “I swear if you cut a hole in my favorite book-“

“Just open it.” He cuts you off with a smile.

You slowly open it, flipping through the first few pages, the title page, the acknowledgment, the table of contents, until you get to the first actual page of the book.

Inside, surrounding the text in the book are little notes and doodles, scrawled in messy handwriting. You flip through the pages to see them everywhere.

“You annotated it?” You ask softly.

Oscar nods. “I read it this week. I figured it would be nice for you to have someone to talk to about it.” He says. He takes a deep breath. “Look, I know it’s not great-“

“I love it.” You cut him off.

“You do?”

You nod. You had copies upon copies of this book, paperbacks, hardcovers, special editions, sprayed edges, but none of them compared to the one in your hands. The one Oscar took the time to read, then write out all of his own thoughts for you. It felt like you were holding a piece of him in your arms.

“Yeah, I love it. Thank you.” You murmur, pulling him into a hug.

Oscar feels like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders as he wraps his arms around you. He smiles to himself, feeling like he’s successfully planted himself in your heart now.

[dreamwritesimagines]

Sunshine [9] - Tranquility

AN: My loves, thank you so so much for your patience! ❤️ You’re amazing! ❤️

I hope you like this as well, and please don’t forget to tell me what you think, thank you! 🥰

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Female!Reader

Summary: Simple days can be calming.

Word Count: 2853

CW: Explicit language, mentions of sex, drinking, adult themes MDNI

Series Masterlist

Well.

This was very fun.

“I mean to repeat, I do have a hammer at home,” you said, leaning your elbows on the cart as you pushed it slowly and Logan raised his brows.

“Just a hammer?”

“Yeah, I wanted to put up that framed picture of me and Theo so Jamie brought it and then forgot it.”

“Exactly why we’re here.”

Home Depot wasn’t really your favorite place to shop in, you couldn’t even remember when the last time you had been there was. Needless to say, you felt a bit overwhelmed as you looked at the aisles with many tools and construction products, but Logan seemed right at home there, and the simple act of going shopping together -whether it was at a store you were familiar with or not- made you feel all warm inside.

Who knew the aftermath of breaking your bed would be fun as well?

Logan grabbed a pack of what seemed like tiny pieces of metal to put it in the cart, and you looked around, then gasped.

“Let’s get these, they look prettier!”

“Screw anchors?”

You tilted your head.

“Well if you feel that strongly about them…”

“No I mean— that’s what they’re called.”

“They’re yellow, I like yellow!” you said, grabbing the pack off the hook to hold it up and Logan chuckled.

“Sweetheart, if we’re going to use them on your bed, they need to be metal. Your bed frame is metal.”

You looked down at the pack. “Oh, these look plastic.”

“Mm hm, they are plastic.”

“Well, where do people use these?”

“On drywall, mostly,” he said. “When you’re hanging—hold on, did Jamie just put a screw into the wall for those frames you mentioned?”

“Yeah.”

He blinked a couple of times, then cleared his throat and took the pack from you to put it into the cart as well.

“Yay!”

“Anything else you want from here?”

You looked over at the shelf, then shook your head and Logan threw an arm over your shoulder to pull you closer to himself as you both went into another aisle.

“So wait, you need to put stuff into the wall to put stuff into the wall?”

“Mm hm.”

“Why?”

“Well, otherwise the screw can slip out of the wall when you hang something,” he said. “Anchors make sure whatever is on the wall doesn’t fall on anyone. It’s the same logic with anchoring furniture.”

“None of my furniture is anchored.”

“Babe, you have a mirror in your living room.”

“I just leaned it to the wall,” you pointed out and Logan heaved a sigh, then gently guided you into another aisle.

“I’m guessing you don’t have a drill?”

“Good guess—Logan, we’re not buying a drill!”

He went closer to one of the shelves to grab one to check it. “Why not?”

“I’m not gonna use it.”

“I’m gonna use it, I don’t want that mirror to fall on you.”

“It’s on the other side of the room.”

“Accidents happen,” he said. “That thing needs to be anchored along with God knows what. Every home needs a drill.”

You scrunched up your face, leaning back to the shelf.

“Debatable,” you said. “Every home needs a medicine cabinet. A drill is just something people in home makeover shows use.”

“What are makeover shows?”

Your jaw dropped. “Oh my God, you’ve never watched those? We’re so watching those, I need your commentary.”

Logan turned the drill in his hand and you bit inside your cheek, trying to fight the urge to jump on him in the aisle of Home Depot. Clearing your throat, you tried to focus and crossed your arms.

“Not that one,” you said and Logan turned his gaze to you.

“Why not?”

“We should get that one,” you pointed at the other drill on the shelf and Logan bit back a smile.

“Babe, that one is 12 volts. This one is 18.”

“Volt isn’t everything,” you said as if you knew what you were talking about and Logan pulled his brows together.

“It is kind of important in a drill—”

“Yeah but Logan, that’s orange,” you said and grabbed the pack of yellow plastic anchors out of the cart to hold it up. “See? They’ll match if we get this one!”

Logan stared at you as if he was trying to find the right words to disagree with you but you pulled your brows together before putting the pack next to the drill so that he could see it better.

“Same shade!” you insisted as you pressed your finger on the drill, looking up at him and the corners of his lips twitched, that fond light shining in his eyes before he nodded slowly, then put the drill in his hand into the shelf to grab the one you were pointing at.

“Okay,” he said. “Let’s get the matching drill then.”

                                                 *

At first you had been worried about being too much of a bother when Logan said he’d be fixing your bedframe but now, sitting on the couch eating the snacks you got on your way back home, you couldn’t help but notice Logan looked very comfortable and happy to be helping you out. Right after you got back home, he fixed your bedframe but apparently having a drill and a toolbox within his vicinity had awakened something in him that he was now working on what could be “fixed” in your living room.

You could’ve sworn his face had lit up like a Christmas tree when you mentioned you had shelves somewhere that you had been procrastinating on putting up.

“Are you sure you don’t want my help?” you asked as you popped a piece of chocolate in your mouth and he shook his head, holding the shelf against the wall to draw on where he’d put it up.

“No need princess.”

“I could help, I have some experience in it,” you pointed out. “Not very pleasant experience but experience nonetheless.”

“How’s that?”

“Um, when I was a child, whenever something broke in our house my dad would want to fix it himself,” you said. “And he’d ask me to hold the flashlight and but then scold me for pointing it at the wrong place.”

“Seriously?”

“Oh yeah.”

He looked at you over his shoulder before grabbing the drill and turned it on, making you grimace at the loud noise. He drilled two holes in the wall, then grabbed the plastic anchors and the hammer to nail them in.

You’d had a wet dream like this.

“How did you learn how to do all this?” you asked him and he shrugged his shoulders.

“I’ve been around for some time. You pick up hobbies.”

“And that’s your hobby?”

“I like fixing things,” he said. “And building stuff.”

You sat up straighter, your whole attention on him.

“Okay, so I can add it to the list of things I know about you,” you said with a bright smile. “I’m quite proud of myself you know, growing that list isn’t the easiest thing in the world.”

Logan shot you a small grin. “Subtle.”

“Hey I’m just warning you beforehand,” you said, holding your hands up. “You won’t even see me coming and before you know, you’re opening up to me.”

“Oh is that what’s gonna happen?”

“Yeah,” you said. “I’m too stubborn to quit.”

Logan’s smile was calm before he took a deep breath, then started working on the shelf again.

“It’s just…” he murmured. “A long story, you know? Too much to tell.”

“That’s okay,” you said softly. “I’ve got time. And until then, you can listen to me talk about absolute nonsense.”

“I like doing that, in case it escaped your notice.”

Warmth bloomed in your chest and you took a deep breath, pulling your knees up to your chest.

“So yeah, I apparently held the flashlight wrong. And there was also that one time—I’m just not the best at fixing things, there was that one time Julie tried to teach me how to change a tire but I ended up convincing her to go get mimosas instead. She’s really good at all that, I swear she and IKEA manuals have something going on that the rest of us human kind cannot understand, she built my wardrobe and I honestly just provided her with cookies—oh my God, Logan!” you said with a gasp. “Do you want cookies?”

A fond smile curled his lips as he looked at you over his shoulder.

“No seriously, I know you liked the chocolate chip ones but I’ve been dying to try this new recipe, it has mint chocolate—do you like mint chocolate? I hope you’re not one of those people who say mint chocolate tastes like toothpaste because I am a ride or die mint chocolate lover, but I think I can also make—”

You were cut off when he strode to you to lean down and kiss you, cutting you off before you let out a giggle.

“Yeah,” he said, pulling back to look at you better. “I’d love some.”

You beamed up at him and stole another kiss from him.

“So yes to the mint chocolate cookies then?”

He stroked his thumb over your cheekbone, that loving look in his eye making your heart skip a happy beat.

“Sure thing sweetheart,” he said. “Yes to the mint chocolate cookies.”

                                                        *

The more time you spent with Logan, the giddier you felt. You knew that you were supposed to keep yourself in check and play it cool considering everything between you two was very new, but it felt as if since you two had got together, you hadn’t been able to stop smiling.

Or it could’ve been just mind-blowing sex.

Either or.

“I’m not really much of a TV person.”

“And I respect that, but not having seen Titanic is simply just not acceptable,” you said as you poured the popcorn into the bowl and made your way to the couch. He wrapped his arms around your waist to pull you to his lap, making you let out a squeal as you straddled him with a giggle.

“You’re not distracting me this time,” you told him, pecking him on the lips before getting off his lap to sit beside him, still holding the popcorn bowl tight. You grabbed the remote to start the movie while Logan frowned at the screen as if it had personally offended him.

“I mean I heard about it,” he said. “It’s romance, right?”

“The best romance in the history of humankind.”

Logan pulled his brows together.

“So low expectations, got it,” he said. “The title suggests it’s not gonna end well?”

“Listen, they may have only known each other for four days—”

“Four days?!”

“Yeah but it was true love,” you said in a solemn manner, nodding your head and Logan’s frown deepened.

“I don’t think that’s how it works, babe.”

“That’s totally how it works,” you said. “It’s like opposites attract wrapped in star-crossed lovers wrapped in a tragic love story. I watched it for like 50 times, it’s my comfort movie. I always cry at the end.”

“Your comfort movie is a movie that makes you cry?”

“Yeah,” you said and grabbed at his arm when turned to look at the screen. “Look, that’s Jack! That’s who Rose falls in love with—wait, Logan, I have a question.”

“Hm?”

“So you were around when Titanic happened?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you remember it?”

“I remember the news of it, yeah,” he said. “Everyone was shocked by it.”

You took a deep breath to ask him another question but your doorbell rang. You turned your head and stood up but Logan was faster than you, so he walked to the door to open it and as soon as he did, Julie’s voice reached you.

“Holy shit you’re tall.”

“Julie?” you asked as you approached the door and Logan stepped aside. “Hi!”

“Hey, sorry I didn’t…” she motioned at Logan. “It’s just that I texted you and you didn’t answer, and I was on my way here anyway because who just got out of a terrible argument with her ex dickhead of a boyfriend and needed some distraction?”

“Jesus, that asshole again?” you asked and she nodded.

“Yep.”

“Come in!” you said and Julie shook her head.

“No no, I really don’t wanna interrupt your sexy time.”

Logan tilted his head while you shot her a lighthearted glare.

“Come in,” you insisted, pulling her by the arm before closing the door. “We’re watching Titanic. Logan, this is Julie, my best friend. Jules, this is Logan—” you paused for a moment, trying to find the right words.

Boyfriend was a big title and you hadn’t really talked about it before, and you actually didn’t know where Logan stood on this whole thing so you decided to play it safe.

“I told you about him,” you ended up saying and Logan extended his hand.

“Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too,” Julie said, shaking his hand. “You really are a good looking dude, and I was so right about the lumberjack vibes.”

Logan blinked a couple of times as if he didn’t know how to answer. “…Thanks?”

“No problem.”

“I’m pouring you wine,” you said, making your way to the kitchen with Julie following you, and Logan lingered in the hallway for a moment before going back to the living room.

“Are you sure it’s cool I’m crashing your date?”

You took out a wine glass before pouring some wine in it.

“I’ll be offended if you ask me that again,” you told her and she hugged you, making you smile and press a kiss on her cheek.

“Are you okay? Do you want me to like, buy a baseball bat and threaten him?”

“Nah I’m fine,” she said as she pulled back to take the glass from you. “It’s just fucking frustrating.”

“Screw him, he’s an idiot,” you told her as you held her other hand and you both went into the living room.

“Hey man, sorry about the interruption,” Julie told him, flinging herself on the armchair and Logan shook his head.

“Don’t worry about it. No interruption other than me trying to figure out how these two people will have the ‘greatest love story’ in four days.”

“It is true love!” you said, smacking the back of your hand into your palm to emphasize each word and Logan chuckled.

“Yeah alright, sorry. True love.”

“Weren’t you around when this happened?” Julie asked, motioning at the screen and you grinned.

“We share one braincell,” you told her and Julie crossed her arms, looking at Logan.

“Did you meet Thomas Edison?”

Logan looked almost confused. “Uh, no?”

“Good, he was an asshole. Did you meet Victor Hugo?”

Logan paused for a moment, then turned to look at you. “Are you guys all secretly French?”

“No, we just watched Les Miserables one hundred times,” you answered while Julie sighed.

“A masterpiece, if you will.”

“Better than this whole true love in four days thing?” Logan asked, motioning at the screen and you narrowed your eyes at him.

“Careful there buddy, you’re on thin ice.”

Logan shot you a grin, making you smile back before you turned to Julie.

“Seriously, what happened with that jerk?”

“Oh you know, the usual drill. He called me drunk, started with begging and then that whole thing turned into him listing every single bad thing about me.”

“He was the one who cheated on you.”

“Yeah and you’d think he’d remember that.”

Logan threw an arm over your shoulder to pull you closer to him.

“I can beat him up if you want,” he said in such a matter-of-fact tone that it made you look up at him in confusion. Julie let out a small laugh.

“You, I like you,” she said, pointing at him before she looked at you. “I approve.”

“Aw thank you.”

“That being said,” she said. “Logan, you seem like a really nice guy but make no mistake, if you upset her in any way, I’ll get the biggest magnet I can find and point it at you so that I can pull that metal skeleton of yours out of your body.”

“Julie!” you exclaimed, your eyes widening and Logan’s smile widened as if he was merely amused. “Don’t listen to her. She’s nice to me and terrible to everyone else.”

Julie blew you a kiss and Logan nodded his head.

“Noted,” he told Julie and Julie grinned at him.

“See? You and I are gonna get along just fine.”

You heaved a sigh, then grabbed the bowl to hold it out for Julie to take some popcorn. She grabbed a handful, then leaned back to watch the movie while you leaned your head on Logan’s chest, trying to pay attention to the movie. Logan nuzzled into your hair and pressed a kiss on top of your head, making your stomach do a happy flip and you felt a smile warm your face before you bit on your lip, then turned your gaze to the screen again.

[papaya-twinks]

me? forget - l.n 🎈

Warnings: Swearing, Fluff

Pairing: Lando Norris x fem!reader

“Morning, baby,” Lando smiled, walking into the kitchen behind you, his torso bare as he huffed you from behind. You could feel his chest pressed to your back, his arms round your waist, fingers sliding over your bra, his curls tickling your jaw as he held you to his body.

“Extra affectionate today,” you said, giggling as he pressed a warm kiss to your shoulder, his fingers dipping under the waistband of your panties. “Mmm, can’t help it,” he mumbled, “you look hot in this,” he tugged on the white shirt you had on, unbuttoned.

“Mhm,” you hummed, ducking under his arm to continue making your tea, tying your hair into a messy bun as you worked. “Should I get, like, snacks for upstairs?” Lando smiled, flashing you his goofy grin as you raised a brow, blinking in confusion. 

“Why’s that?” you asked, turning your attention back to your tea cup, missing the way his smile fell slightly. “Y’know, we’re gonna stay home and cuddle and…stuff,” he shrugged, walking back to you to kiss your neck, only to have you duck under his arm once more. 

“No we’re not,” you frowned, “I have some stuff to do,” you said, grabbing your car keys from the dish on the side. “Oh…okay,” Lando said, forcing a smile onto his face as he watched you leave, going up the stairs, a frown on his face. Had he done something wrong? 

You’d never forgotten his birthday, or your anniversary or anything like that, has he done something? Had he forgotten yours or something? Lando stayed upstairs, not even bothering to come down when he heard your car rolling into the driveway, thinking to himself. 

“Hey Lando,” you smiled, walking into the room as you placed your bags down, met with nothing but a half-hearted grunt and an incoherent mumble. “Enjoy the shops?” he finally said, not lookin up from his phone. “It was…just a shopping trip, nothing to enjoy,” you frowned. 

“Whatever,” he mumbled, turning on his side, his back facing you as you sighed. “Can you go out and grab me some snacks?” you asked, “I’m feeling a bit sick of driving, cramps and stuff,” you lied as he rolled his eyes, shrugging and standing up.

“I guess,” he mumbled, grabbing the keys and leaving. Perfect. As soon as he left, Carlos, Max F and a bunch of his other friends crept in, as you’d gone to pick them up instead of going to the shops, a bright grin on your face. 

“God, you look happy,” Max said, nudging you as you followed them into the house, grabbing all the balloons from whet your stuffed them into the closet. “How can I not be?” you said, dumping a bunch of balloons around the place, turning some lights to purple. 

“He was kinda, like, pissed at me, I think,” you said, half-grimacing as Carlos helped you hang up some decorations, Max working on wheeling out the three-tier cake onto the middle of the table. “Coz of the whole ‘forgetting his birthday’ thing?” the Spaniard asked as you nodded. 

“Maybe a surprise party wasn’t such a good idea,” you said, chewing on your lip as Max sighed. “There’s not much we can do now,” Carlos said, “it’s happened now, so we might as well make it special for him, no?”. He was right, now all you had to do was wait for Lando to come back. 

“Surprise!” you all cheered as Lando walked into the too, looking bewildered as he walked into the room, weakly clutching his bag before he blinked a few times, his eyes widening. 

“Y/N, what’s going on?” he immediately went to you, all his earlier coldness forgotten as he dumped the bag in the couch. Max and Carlos popped some confetti things as you grinned, slinging your arms round his neck as he blinked at you, confused. “I-I thought you…forgot my birthday, I-,” Lando rambled, a smile sliding onto his face. 

“Bullshit, like I’d forget your birthday,” you said, squeezing his side as he pushed your hand away, a smile on his face as he kissed your jaw. “Knew it wasn’t like you,” he said, his cheeks tinged slightly pink as he swayed on the spot, watching his friends parade around in celebration for his birthday. 

“I fucking hate you,” he said, watching in awe as Max lifted the knife, handing it to Lando to cut the cake. “God, I love you,” he said, pulling your hand onto his as he cut the cake, the slice falling perfectly onto a paper plate. “I love you,” he said again, kissing you once more. 

[ghousttm]

no because i created in my head like a whole interaction between the two in a void

let me try to remember what i imagined

(spoilers on PvP civilization and Parkour Civilization btw)

ok so i dont give half enough of a fuck to make this into proper dialogue but

it went along the lines of

pvp evbo admiring how many people believe in and rely on pk evbo, and how good he is at parkour

and how in pvp civ nobody even believes in him, and maybe he could've done better in pk civ, he could've lived better - he could totally pull off a good Parkour and get himself a mansion to live in the rest of his life

but pk evbo is like. But in pk civ you're not actually free.. no matter whay rank you're in and how good your Parkour skills are. Heck - he had to become god to have some peace of mine

"so I guess I'll never have a peaceful life then-.." pvp evbo sighed as he hugged his knees, in a more annoyed tone than anything - but also unmeasurably tired.. for such a small body, to be so exhausted, it's almost pitiful

"hey.. cheer up man" pk evbo placed a hand on his shoulder, a small smile on his face "your series, and your journey, isn't even over yet! You'll get that ending eventually. I'm sure."

"hah- thanks, but.. I'm not even good pvp. It feels like I've still got such a long way to go- but I'm already falling behind compared to.. well- nobody. But if I dont get good enough soon enough, my friends will get hurt! and I'll never escape--"

"-woah woah! hey! calm down. breathe.."

"..seems.. like you've gone through a lot,"

"I dunno, dying like a gazillion times isn't that much."

"oh wow- I've only died like. Twice."

pvp evbo shrugs "You get used to it.. sorta... "

"... wether you're ready for it or not.. you're probably gonna find yourself having to improvise and keep going, if not for the sake of others, for yourseld.. I've had two second chances, and you seem to have an unlimited supply of chances - still, dont let it all go to waste."

....

maybe smth smth

pvp evbo telling pk evbo "you're able to live your own life in relative comfort - you shouldn't have let that 'master' tell you what to do! 'Saving the world' isn't your problem.."

i dunno

i think they both should be put in the same room and given building blocks to play with

The two Evbos meet. (Silly little sketch)

I always saw parkour!Evbo to be early to mid 20s-ish, while PvP!Evbo to be around mid to late teens (15+). The differences between the two is so big for me. Pkciv!Evbo is very confident and becomes god while pvp!Evbo is literally a child who is used as a tool of sacrifice. Evbo is good at making these characters different but still distinctly himself.

[taesansbeloved]

I WILL ALWAYS LOVE YOU. (엔하이펜)

synopsis: doing skincare/cozy stuff with bf!enhypen warnings 🚨 tooth rotting fluff, skinship, petnames, and kissing.

(Hyung line)

Nova notes: HIHI ❣️ this was based on this request. I will probably do a whole one for Ni-ki later, and also probably Heeseung because I cannot resist writing fluff for this man. Maknae line here.

Heeseung (희승)

You were sat on the bathroom counter with Heeseung in between your legs, hands on your thigh, rubbing up and down gently, watching you with heart eyes while you apply moisturiser on his face. "Stop looking at me like that." You said shyly, his gaze making your face heat up. "Why? You're pretty." He stated, his gaze not wavering from your ethereal face. Your smile widens as you feel Heesueng leaning closer to your touch. "Everyday I'm shocked that you're my girlfriend, because omg, you're fucking gorgeous." He whispered, relishing in the feeling of your warm hand. You roll eyes, trying to hide your flustered face, but that's impossible when he is looking at you like THAT. He chuckles slightly and turns his head, kissing your palm lovingly.

Jay (정성)

You were having a tough week as it was midterms season. Constant studying, endless stressing, and a ruined sleep schedule that had Jay ruining his aswell. Jay knew that one of the ways to help you ease the stress, besides his cooking, is simply taking care of you. "Baby, I'm fine really. I just need to sleep." You said as Jay placed you on the bathroom counter and stood in between your legs, having your entire night care routine out beside you. "Yeah, and you also need some me love. So I'm giving you some." He said softly as he picked up the cleanser. He gently wet your face with a damp towel and began rubbing the cleanser all over your. You can feel your eyes getting heavier with every warm touch against your skin. Jay chuckled as he took in your drowsy figure, feeling his heart warm up with an overwhelming amount of love. "I hate seeing you this stressed, baby, you know that?" He said softly as he was caressing your face tenderly. "Blame the school system." You said, voice low with sleep and exhaustion. Jay sighed as he walked you to the he'd and completed your skincare while your sleeping soundly on the bed. "Sleep well, princess."

Jake (재윤)

You and him were sat opposite to eachother on your shared bed with a variety of different colors of nail polish. "Okay, so, what color do you want, baby?" Jake asked, assessing each color individually. "I don't really know. You choose for me." You said with a cheeky smile. Jake smiled, looking up at you with eyes full of stars. "Oh, I've been waiting for this day. Okay, I will not disappoint you." He paused then gasped again, "Should I make you a design?" He asked with huge puppy eyes. You nodded, sharing the same enthusiasm. He picked up the baby pink and the pearly white nail polish and began painting your nails while talking with you about everything and nothing. After an hour or so, Jake finished with an excited clap. "Okay, I put my heart, sweat, and tears into this. I hope you like it." He said as you brought your hands up to see his masterpiece. Eyes lighting up with adoration, "omg, jake I love this! I will never take it off." You said, throwing your arms around him and peppering kisses all over his face. His and your giggles filled the room, love swirling in the dim room.

Sunghoon (성훈)

"What's that for?" That was the question Sunghoon has been asking everytime you put a different product on his face. Now you were doing face masks. "This is a hydration face mask." You said simply, standing on your tip-toes to place the sheet mask over his flawless face. His hands unconsciously finding its way to your waist, holding you gently yet protectively. "And what's the one you have on your face?" He asked, mumbling from the face mask, afraid of disturbing you while you're patting it down. "It's the same thing just a different color." You explained, pushing his soft bangs away to smooth the mask down on his forehead. He hummed as he began rubbing your waist up and down, filling your stomach with butterflies. "Now we wait 20 minutes." You said, standing back at your original height. "I have some ideas that can fill those 20 minutes." He smirked down at you as you rolled your eyes, pecking his lips slightly that eventually led to a 20 minute make out session.

Do not copy this post. Spam likes = blocked. Spaming and plagiarism are not tolerated. Respectfully follow these rules :)

[corroded-hellfire]

https://www.tumblr.com/corroded-hellfire/743622480481107968/reading-ayw-things-has-me-thinking-about-eddie-and

I loved this request! To add on the baby fever, but this has a little bit of sadness, when baby Eliza looses that newborn baby scrunch, meaning that she's no more a newborn and she's growing. I was loosing it when my cousin did this (we're like 5 years apart)

For those unfamiliar with the newborn scrunch: https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTLFYCP6t/

THE NEWBORN SCRUNCH! It is the cutest of cuteness. I can't even imagine how I'm going to feel when I someday have a baby and they stop doing this lol. Probably react like Reader, ngl 😂

Warnings: Mom!Reader, Dad!Eddie, Eddie should get kneed in the balls for suggesting having another baby so soon after Reader giving birth

Words: 1.2k

“Well, good morning my little cutie pie.”

Eliza gazes up at you from her bassinet, her little legs kicking within the confines of her pink teddy bear footie pajamas. 

“Morning, sweet pea.” Eddie comes up behind you and rests his chin on your shoulder as he smiles down at your infant daughter. 

“Ready to get up and start the day?” you ask, fighting back a yawn. Eliza has gotten on a more consistent sleep schedule, but you’re still nowhere close to your preferred eight hours. “Babe, can you grab an outfit for her?”

“Sure thing.” Eddie barely takes two steps towards the door to head across the hall to the nursery before hearing you whimper. He immediately spins back around and takes in the situation with wide eyes. “What? What’s wrong? What’s going on?”

You’re still facing the bassinet, Eliza held out in front of you. Eddie can see the baby hanging from your grip, her eyes going over your shoulder to squint at her father.

Slowly, you turn to face him, hugging Eliza to your chest. Eddie sees the tears building up in your eyes and comes to your side.

“Hey, what is it?” he asks.

“S-She…” You sniffle and shake your head, unable to vocalize it. Her soft downy hair tickles your cheek as you cradle her. “She didn’t do the scrunch.”

Your husband’s face pinches up into a confused frown. His eyes slide to the left, then right, trying to figure out what the hell you’re talking about. 

“The…scrunch?” he asks. 

“The scrunch!” you whine. “The newborn scrunch!”

By the petulant tone of your voice, Eddie is pretty sure that you would’ve stomped your foot on the ground like a child if you weren’t holding your baby. The look on his face clearly conveys that he has no idea what you’re talking about because you sigh and continue to explain without any further nudge.

“You know how when you pick her up her little legs pull up towards her chest? Like she’s curling in on herself?”

“Oh,” Eddie says as it dawns on him. “Yeah, yeah, now I know what you mean.”

“She didn’t do it when I picked her up.” The wobble in your voice is clear and noticeable even before Eddie sees your bottom lip trembling. “She’s not my newborn anymore.”

“Of course she is,” Eddie says, placing a hand on the middle of your back and rubbing soothing circles there. “She’s only six weeks old.”

“She's already six weeks old!” you cry, the tears finally falling free past the lash line. 

“Aw, sweetheart.” Eddie chuckles, not unkindly, as he uses his thumb to wipe your tears away. 

“S’not funny,” you mumble, gently resting your head against your daughter’s.

Strong, warm arms wrap around you from the side, and you’re pulled up against a solid frame. A few soft kisses are pressed to the side of your face.

“I’m not laughing at you, baby,” he coos. “I think it’s cute, though.”

“Cute that I’m emotional over our baby growing up?” Your voice is harsher than you intended, but Eddie knows you don’t mean any harm by it. All of your hormones are still out of whack from pregnancy and giving birth. 

The end of her scrunch is just the first sign of her growing up. Suddenly you see her walking, saying her first words, going to her first day of pre-school, learning to ride a bike, having her first relationship, going to prom, graduating high school. The cherry on top is her packing up the car to head to college. More tears sting the back of your eyes at the thought. All of a sudden, her mere six weeks seem like a flash in the pan. 

“I think you’re cute,” Eddie amends. “Eliza’s still our newborn, though. She’s going to get stronger, and her little habits and cues are going to change, but she still needs her Mommy and Daddy for everything. Hell, I don’t think the boys could survive without us, either.”

Logic doesn’t always help even out the emotions, but your husband’s attempt does break through the surface. With a soft sniffle, you nod your head in agreement. Of course, Eliza is still your newborn and completely dependent on you. It doesn’t mean that you won’t have the same emotional upheaval when she can hold her head up on her own for the first time, but it’s comforting right now. 

Eddie has been doing a great job of letting you be a first-time mom and have all the emotions and experiences that go along with it, but sometimes his experience of having had two babies already helps ground you. 

“You’re right.” You exhale a deep breath and nod your head. “But I am still going to miss the scrunch.”

“Guess we’ll just have to have another one then, huh? Since you’re going to miss the scrunch,” your husband teases.

Slowly, you turn your head and give him a playful glare. The doctor just gave you the okay to start having sex again. The thought of pushing another baby out of your poor aching body is enough to threaten Eddie with never having sex again. 

“When you give birth, we can have all the babies you want,” you say.

Eddie laughs and presses a few kisses against your hair.

“Deal. Alright, let me go get her some clothes.” Eddie gives your side a loving squeeze before heading out into the hallway.

“Daddy’s right,” you say to Eliza as you gently rock her. “You’re still my new baby girl. I mean, look at these little fingers!” You offer her one of your index fingers and her fist instinctively curls around it. A smile grows on your face as you lift her small hand to your lips and press quick kisses against her knuckles. 

“Babe?” Eddie says as he grabs onto the bedroom door frame and leans into the room. “Where’s her yellow polka dot onesie? The one with the pink buttons.”

“Hmm?” You look at Eddie over your shoulder before turning to face him properly. “Oh, I packed it away a few days ago. She doesn’t fit into it anymore.”

Eddie frowns as he lets go of the doorframe and takes a few stumbling steps into the room. His messy bedhead sways with the movement.

“What?”

“Yeah, the buttons wouldn’t stretch to snap shut anymore,” you tell him.

A harsh sigh makes you look up at your husband. He crosses his arms over his chest and it’s a frighteningly similar look to when Luke is told he can’t have cookies before dinner. 

“What’s wrong?” you ask.

“That was my favorite outfit of hers,” Eddie huffs.

You try your best to hide a smile, but biting your lip can only do so much. Now you realize what Eddie meant when he called you “cute” moments ago. Your husband’s pouting is currently rivaling Eliza’s adorableness. 

“It’s okay, Eds,” you tell him.

“How many clothes did you pack?” he asks, coming closer to you.

“A bunch of newborn ones that are too small now.”

“Eliza,” Eddie whines. He rests his chin on your shoulder and reaches around you to grab her tiny foot. “Why you getting so big? Stop growing up.”

It’s impossible for you not to chuckle at his words. Oh, how the tables have turned.