#which . fair . but pls be nice to me
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smoosnoom · 2 years ago
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corollary
“Okay,” Mike echoes. “So, I was – thinking. We should sleep together." Will, for some reason, still looks lost, but he looks cute – sweet, like that, pink cheeks and eyes wide and glossy and the slight furrow of his eyebrows like Mike has given him something outlandish. “I,” he starts, “don’t understand.”
Mike proposes a sleepover.
Unsurprisingly, no sleeping is done.
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willstudies · 1 year ago
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FINISHED MY MATH MIDTERM
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dream-launch · 2 years ago
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How come when people talk about like tryna support people who are in a very rough place mentally they always give the usual you're not alone I'm there for you but never actually make any effort to be there - no reaching out, no desire to even wanna talk - like it's just bullshitting cause they know it would sound too obviously mean to be like oh your not okay? Well too bad don't bother me with that shit I don't care enough about you.
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orcelito · 3 months ago
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Got my score back for my presentation, & it was About what I was expecting. I knew the weak point of the presentation was how dense it was + how much I had to cover, and as a result I did end up largely reading off of the slides. Tried to insert some extra information about the stuff, but didn't have much in the way of discussion built into my slides. So like... I can accept that criticism lol (even if it does sting a lil 😭)
Overall tho I got an average score of 8.6, professor score of 8... I'm not sure actually what will count for my grade. Is he including his score in the average at the top??? Also 8.6 is also not right. When I calculated my score from the tallied numbers, I got 8.31 for class average, 8.29 if I include the professor's rating in there as just one. For some reason, what he wrote is higher than either?? I certainly won't complain about a higher score, though I'm confused lol
But yeah people in general praised my research and preparation. Also video choice. Yay!
I will now try to focus on the good points and not worry so much about the bad. Regardless of any of it, 8.6 or 8 (out of max 9) is generally Pretty Good. Might as my professor for clarification on the grades when I next see him.
#speculation nation#which will probably be on...monday. he said it doesnt rly matter if i get the thing in on friday or monday#so since i'll already be on campus monday for class. also gives me more time to do it. it just makes sense.#oh also i was praised for the use of my quiz at the beginning hfksk yayyyy#gonna be looking thru my classmates reviews again i think. theyre generally nice.#i got 9 scores of 9. 4 scores of 8. 2 of 7. and 1 of 6. (again. where 9 is the top score)#the funny thing is. well the two 7s have valid critiques on them (primarily my delivery lol)#the 6 doesnt really?? have any criticisms in it. which is strange. like girl why did u give me a 6 😭😭 tell me pls 😭😭😭#another praise i got was for including both sides of things. which tbh that was a big part of what video i chose over ERA#bc when i looked at that i was like 'why in the world would people protest against the Equal Rights Amendment?'#so i felt like it was an important thing to include. found a video that included perspectives from key figures on either side.#bc i dont Agree with the ppl who oppose it. but i think the context is important to understand Why we dont have the ERA yet.#ok looking thru all the things again makes me feel better about it all. overall the criticisms are valid lol#i definitely dont prefer the presentation style i had. just. ya kno. god there was so much to cover.#i will accept this deduction... as it is fair. also tho i do not know what my final score is 😭 professor please#'well prepared but weaker in delivery' was my professor's summary of it. yeah . yeah😔#oh well at least it's over lol. and even if it's an 8/9 thats not bad. would love the 8.6/9 to be my final score tho lol#idk i'll ask for clarification. later.
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drudinn · 6 months ago
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bet.
Kenji Sato (Ultraman Rising) x F!Reader 
Synopsis: How will the infamous baseball star react when you make a bet with him before his game?
Content: MDNI established relationship, cocky!ken, no use of y/n (second person pov) pet names, swearing | smut, unprotected, praise, rough, ch0king, oral (fem!receiving), dirty talk, fingering, dom!ken, br33ding, overstimulation
Word Count: 2704
A/N: The Ken Sato show is on replay in my head 24/7 and this fic is to feed my fixation. First fic I've ever written be nice </3. Pls let me know if you wanna see more! (asks open hehe)
MASTERLIST
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Being engaged to the baseball superstar Ken Sato has its pros and cons. Pros being, having a loving partner, a lavish lifestyle, and essentially anything you wanted. Whereas, the cons were Kenji’s competitive temperament. Which to be fair, had its perks in itself; One of which was being able to push his buttons just so he could put you in his place. 
౨ৎ°⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
Upon entering the Tokyo Dome, your ears were met with the roars of the stadium and the soft chants of your fiance's name, “Sato! Sato! Sato!”. This was his highly anticipated debut game for the Yomiuri Giants, and every fan in the stadium was looking forward to seeing him. You felt a sense of admiration as you took in the sight of thousands of dedicated fans. You then quickly turned your attention to the section of the stadium that housed the players locker rooms.
Before heading to the vip section of the stadium, you made the decision to see Kenji and give him some motivation before his game. You tidied yourself up, brushing off the specks of dust on your dress. This was a big day for Kenji, the least you can do is look the utmost best for him.
Your knuckles met the hard wood of the large double doors that led to the locker room, and you paused before inviting yourself in.
“Kenji?” You called out into the seemingly empty locker room. 
Kenji perked up upon hearing your voice and walked over to the locker room entrance. “What are you doing here, baby?” he said as he leaned on the wall, giving you a warm smile. You couldn’t help but admire him. He was in the middle of changing into his uniform, his jet black hair disheveled from his baseball helmet. Seeing this soft, yet sexy side of him riled you up. You glanced down and noticed the buttons on his jersey that read ‘GIANTS’ across it, were yet to be buttoned up.
You approached him, pressing a soft peck on his cheek as you reached towards the buttons of his jersey. You carefully buttoned it up for him, your touch soft and precise.
As you buttoned up the last button, your lips formed into a sweet smile as you smoothed out the jersey, “Just wanted to see you before you stepped out onto the field.”
Kenji’s hands carefully wrap around your waist as he pulls you in closer. He hums satisfied with your soft gesture. “Mm, how thoughtful of you baby.” he whispers to you softly.
You press your cheek to his chest and smile. “Kenji,” you say in a low and mischievous tone.
“Wanna make a bet?”
Kenji looked down at you suspiciously. He knew that tone, he knew your antics. He raised his brow at you, a small grin forming on his face. “What do you have in mind?”
Your arms snaked up his figure to wrap around his neck and press a kiss to his jaw. Kenji’s breath hitched and his hands traveled down your ass to give it a playful squeeze. 
You pulled him close and in a low and sultry voice said, “If you score a homerun tonight, you get to rip this dress off me after your game.” Kenji smirked at your deal and cocked his eyebrow amused. “Just one sweetheart? You doubtin’ me?” He shook his head before meeting your gaze. “And if I don’t?” 
You giggled low in his ear. “No sex for the next three days.” 
Kenji pulled away to look at you in mock offense. He recollected himself and let out a breathless chuckle. “We can’t have that, can we?” he said with a cocky grin. 
You shook your head and grabbed him by his collar to press a quick kiss to his lips before pulling away. Kenji whined as he felt you break the kiss and walk back to the door. He followed you over to open the door for you, a pout present on his face as he watched you walk out. You turned around to give him a wink, and mouthed a loving “good luck” before, turning back around and making your way to the stands. 
You took your seat and watched as the players took their spots on the field, you watched awaiting for Kenji’s arrival. The Jumbotron flashed Kenji’s face as he walked out onto the field and the stadium roared at his presence.
“Sato! Sato! Sato!”
 Kenji felt his adrenaline pumping as the crowd's chant echoed through the stadium. He always loved the thrill of being cheered for, the feeling of everyone's eyes on him as he walked up to home plate. This time around it was extra special knowing you were in the crowd cheering for him alongside everyone else. His eyes roamed the stadium until he found your gaze and flashed you a smile. He gripped his bat tightly, a sly grin on his face as he eyed the pitchers mound.
Once he stepped up to the plate, the crowd's chant became louder and more intense. He breathed in the energy of the stadium, and even still the only thought that lingered in his mind was that little bet of yours and the image of you helpless under him. He repositioned his hold on his bat, his muscles tense with anticipation. The tension in the stadium was palpable, as fans held their breath waiting for the first pitch.
The pitcher threw the ball at Kenji and you leaned in with hyperfocus as you watched Kenji slam his bat into the ball with perfect precision. Time slowed as you watched the ball fly into the stands, and the crowd erupted with excitement. “A beautiful home run from Ken Sato!” The announcer exclaimed. 
You looked at the jumbo-tron and saw his face on the screen, his name flashing in bright orange letters. He ran the bases with a charming smile and pointed at the camera with a wink you knew was for you. He won the bet; simple as that. 
The game goes on, with Kenji dominating the field and hitting amazing shots left and right. The fans go wild with every strike, and the atmosphere is electric. He has a shit eating grin the entire time and you can’t help but roll your eyes at his ego that you secretly loved so much. You knew what was waiting for you once the game ended and you squeezed your thighs together in anticipation. 
The opposing team was struggling to keep up, and their pitcher was starting to look dejected. Kenji's teammates pat him on the back and cheer every time he makes it back to the dugout. During the final stretch of the game Kenji hits the game-winning homerun. 
Confetti flutters down from the ceiling like a shower of colorful rain, creating a beautiful celebration. Kenji's teammates mob him on the field, cheering and congratulating him on his performance. 
The fans are ecstatic, chanting "Sato! Sato! Sato!" as they celebrate another Giants' victory. Kenji looks up at you with that same cocky smile he gave you in the locker room. He tilts his head at you and you know the meaning it holds, it stood as a warning more than anything. 
He won, and god he was not planning on holding back when claiming his reward.
Kenji found you waiting for him outside the locker room and it took everything in him not to take you right then and there. You practically purred at his touch. “Congratulations baby.” 
“Thanks for the motivation.” He mumbled as he dug his lips into the crook of your neck. 
Shit he needed to get you home now. He practically dragged you to his car and sped his way through the streets of tokyo. One look at you through his rearview mirror had him clutching the steering wheel tighter. You met his gaze in the rearview mirror and spread your legs teasingly. He clenched his teeth at the sight as his pants grew tighter and patience grew thin. “Keep that attitude up, sweet girl.” He parked the car in front of his house and upon entering he wasted no time sinking his teeth in your neck as he threw you on the couch. You landed on the plush sofa and before you could you react, Kenji was clawing at your dress like an animal. He ripped the dress off of you in one swift motion, paying no mind as it landed somewhere in the distance.
 He groaned at the sight of your naked body as he toyed with the hem of your underwear.
“Fuck, you have no idea what you do to me, baby.” He pressed a soft kiss to your collar and your body shuddered at the contact. His fingers hooked around your underwear as he pulled them off with ease. 
“Kenji.” You breathed out helplessly. He was right where he wanted you and he was just getting started. He peppered small kisses from your neck to your chest as his hands roamed your body, memorizing every curve. Your whines only egged him on as he moved to squeeze your chest. You let out a soft moan at the feeling and your body ignited.
 He shifted his weight as he moved lower down your body. His big hands traveled down your thighs and spread them to reveal your wet throbbing cunt. He got on his knees as he pulled you towards the edge of the couch to leave teasing kisses across your thighs. His kisses trailed dangerously close to your entrance, but never made contact, making you squirm. You buck your hips at the sensitivity and he lets out a low chuckle. “So needy.” He runs his tongue along your thigh and just as you open your mouth to complain, he takes your pussy into his mouth. 
You throw your head back as he licks slow circles around your clit. Your needy whines are all he needs to hear as he sucks on your clit and licks a long strip through your folds. You taste better than any dessert he’s ever had, and he's sure he could stay in between your thighs for hours. Your fingers tug at his soft black locks, as his tongue fucks your sopping cunt. He dips a finger into your entrance and you feel your eyes roll back. “Oh my god Kenji-” 
He curls his fingers and you scream as he makes contact with the spot that's sure to throw you over the edge. He thrusts his long fingers in and out at a relentless pace as his tongue laps up your sweet juices. He looks up at you with half lidded eyes and smiles against your pussy when he sees your exasperated expression. Seeing you so fucked out and helpless under him does something to his ego he couldn’t explain. 
“Can’t get enough of this sweet lil cunt.” He drawls. The overstimulation of his tongue and fingers plunging deep into your tight cunt drives you to the edge embarrassingly fast. 
“Ngh- fuck kenji. M’close” 
He feels you squeeze around him and he hums satisfied. “Cum f’me. Let go, sweet girl.” He sucks harder and you swear you see stars as your orgasm hits you like a wave. You’re arching your back and tugging at his hair, as Kenji’s fingers fuck you through your high. 
“Goood fuckin slut.” he grins as you grind against his mouth, greedily soaking in the pleasure. He smiles as your chest heaves up and down after you finish. He looks down at your splayed and exhausted figure with a chuckle. He reached his hand down to brush the hair from your sweaty forehead and pressed a kiss to your temple. 
“Look so pretty like this baby.” He says with a smile before taking his shirt off and unbuckling his belt to strip his pants and boxers off. He pushed his erection against your heat teasingly and throbbed when he heard you whimper.
 He pulled you up, flipped you onto your stomach and pressed your face into the couch. You yelped at the sudden change in position, but played along as you arched your back presenting your ass to him on full display. He growled as his palm made contact with your cheek, the noise of the slap ricocheting off the room along with your moans.
“Fuck.”
 He pulled you flush against him and without warning sunk his cock into your cunt. He let out a guttural moan as he watched his cock disappear into your pussy. He grabs a fistful of your hair as he pulls out, only to slam his thick cock back inside. 
“So. fuckin. tight.” He snarls with each thrust, not once letting his pace falter. His length splits you apart, and as you lose yourself in the pleasure, part of you begins to second guess if you should’ve made such an easy bet in the first place. Kenji relishes in the way you arch so beautifully against him and lets out a moan. “So perfect.” he praises under his breath as his hands roam your body shamelessly. 
He pulls you up, and fucks you at a deeper angle, hitting a delicious spot inside of you that makes you mewl. His fingers wrap around the base of your neck as he squeezes softly to remind you who exactly is responsible for the reason you’re a mess right now. His breath is strained against your ear as you clamp mercilessly around his cock. He sucks at the skin on your neck, that's sure to leave a mark. He didn’t care, at least everyone would know you were his. 
The sound of your slick and the slapping of skin fill the noise of the living room. 
You sob at the intensity of his thrusts, “Hah- shit Kenji, d-don’t stop”. 
He indulges in your sweet moans and rocks his hips into you faster and sloppier. “Takin’ me so well.” 
He groans in your ear as he pulls out to reposition you on your side. You looked like a fucking masterpiece to him, and if he could burn this sight into his head he would. He smiles feverishly as he pounds into your poor pussy, your cervix sure to be bruised. You practically whine at the feeling as you feel your orgasm approach you. You babble on and on about how close you are, and Kenji only grips your thighs tighter in response. You scream as you come undone on his cock and he groans when he feels you squeeze him impossibly tighter.
 “Atta fuckin’ girl.” Despite your soft cries and desperate pleas that you were sensitive and overstimulated he doesn’t stop.
 He sucks in a breath of air as he presses his body against you, and you wrap your legs around his torso. He huffs in your ear as his rhythm gets sloppier and you know he's close, “It’s like you're made for me.” 
Kenji was drunk off your pussy and god was he close. You squeeze your legs around him tighter, a silent plea for him to fill your sweet cunt up with his seed. He doesn’t hesitate as he bucks his hips into you, and with a final thrust cums deep inside your cunt. You whine as you feel his warm seed fill you up. He pulls out hesitantly as he catches his breath and watches as his cum seeps out of your pussy. He gathers your slick with his fingers and shoves it back inside with a smile. 
“Good girl.” He pats your thigh lovingly before he walks off to get a towel and clean you up. He returns and presses a sweet kiss to your forehead before cleaning up the mess in between your thighs. Kenji props himself up next to you on the couch and opens his arms for you to get comfortable in his embrace. You cuddle up close to him and he wraps his arms around you as he whispers sweet nothings into your ear.
 “That bet was too easy,” He jibes at you as you roll your eyes.
 “Whatever,” You mumble back, careful not to inflate his already high ego. He giggles at your remark and holds you closer to whisper in your ear. 
“Let’s make another bet, baby.”
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runariya · 9 days ago
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Tame Me Softly (m.)
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thank you @ericawantstoescape for making this happen 🫂💕 summary: There's really nothing that could tame Jungkook. Not some therapist, and definitely not some 'aggression management program' at a clinic. Or so he thinks. pairing: panther hybirdl!Jungkook x cat hybrid!fem reader genre: hybrid!AU, S2L, fluff, smut rating: 18+, MDNI! warnings: aggression, foul language, size difference, a bit of jealousy, JK's whipped and a pussy for OC, explicit sexual content, mutual masturbation, good boy, kitten, sub-y!JK, unprotected sex, kinda public sex(?)...there are CCTV's..., fluff, pls lmk if I forgot smth word count: ~ 6.6k
a/n: This work is purely fictional. All characters and events are entirely imaginary and do not reflect reality. No translations are allowed without permission. Thank you for understanding! 💕
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“‘S nothing.”
Jungkook sits on the counter of his kitchen, staring at the shredded remains of his curtains like they’ve personally offended him. Which, to be fair, they probably have. They’re too floaty, too white, too… delicate. Namjoon picked them out ages ago, saying they’d “brighten the place up”. Jungkook’s claws have had other ideas.
There’s a pile of fabric strips on the floor, another casualty in his ongoing war against… well, everything. It’s not just the curtains, though. The wall behind the sofa’s got claw marks gouged into it, his sofa’s a disaster of stuffing and fabric, and let’s not even get started on the dining table. That poor thing never stood a chance.
“Right,” Namjoon sighs from the doorway, coat still on and arms crossed like some disapproving school teacher. “What do you call this, then?”
Jungkook doesn’t bother answering this time. He’s too busy ignoring him, staring hard at the floor like it might suddenly open up and swallow him whole. A nice hole in the ground might actually solve a few problems, now that he thinks about it.
Namjoon doesn’t leave, of course. He just leans against the wall beside the damaged rag, sighing in that way he does when he thinks he’s about to say something profound. “You can’t keep doing this.”
“Doing what?” Jungkook snaps, head jerking up to glare at him. His tail twitches against the counter, betraying the irritation radiation off his very being. “Existing? Don’t worry, I’m working on it.”
Namjoon’s face falls, which is somehow worse than the disapproval. Jungkook hates when he looks at him like that, all older-brother sympathy and “I know what’s best for you” vibes.
“You’re not gonna find a mate if you act like a feral alley cat.” 
Jungkook snorts, leaning back on his hands. “As if you’d know.”
“I do know,” Namjoon counters, like he’s just been waiting for that line. “I’ve been with my mate for years. You think she’d have stuck around if I’d been shredding the furniture every time I got annoyed?”
“Maybe.”
Namjoon gives him a flat look. “Look, I get it. You’re frustrated. You’re lonely. But this,” he waves vaguely at the destruction like it’s all just one big disaster “this isn’t helping you. You’ve got to figure something out.”
Jungkook knows Namjoon’s right, and that’s the most annoying part of it. He is frustrated. His skin itches all the time, his claws feel like they’re too sharp for his own body, and he’s constantly on edge. Growling at strangers, snapping at anyone who gets too close, it’s all instinct now. And he’s sick of it.
Sick of waking up in an empty bed, with no one to press against when his tail curls around his own leg for comfort. Sick of walking past couples on the street and pretending he doesn’t feel like biting something out of sheer jealousy.
Still, he can’t bring himself to say all that. Not to Namjoon, anyway.
“You’re so fucking smug, you know that?” Jungkook mutters instead, looking away.
Namjoon doesn’t even deny it. “Smug or not, I’m right. You need help.”
“I don’t need help.”
“You do.” Namjoon crosses the room, dropping next to him. Jungkook tenses automatically, but Namjoon doesn’t push. Just sits there, calm like he’s trying to prove a point Jungkook’s unable to see.
“I found someone for you to talk to. A hybrid therapist. He’s good. Works with panther hybrids like you.”
Jungkook bristles, turning to glare at him again. “You’ve been telling people I’m mental?”
“No,” Namjoon deadpans. “I’ve been telling people you’re a stubborn git who doesn’t know how to ask for help.”
That earns him a low growl, but Namjoon doesn’t care. He never does. “Look, all I’m saying is you don’t have to keep doing this on your own. There are people who can help. You don’t have to see him if you don’t want to, but I think you should.”
Jungkook’s quiet for a long time after that, staring down at his hands. His claws are out again, gleaming in the daylight filtering though his shredded curtains. He wants to dig them into something, but there’s nothing left in the flat that hasn’t already been destroyed.
It’s not like he doesn’t know he’s got issues. He’s not stupid. But admitting it out loud feels like giving up, like letting everyone else win. Still, the idea of someone understanding what he’s dealing with… it’s tempting. More tempting than he’d like to admit.
Namjoon doesn’t push him, just lets the silence settle until it’s unbearable, until Jungkook caves. 
“Fine,” Jungkook mutters eventually, the word bitter on his tongue. “I’ll go. Once.”
Namjoon’s smile is small but victorious, and Jungkook immediately regrets saying anything. “That’s all I’m asking,” he pats him on the back.
Jungkook growls low in his throat again, but Namjoon just laughs, already on his way out the door.
“Proud of you, Kookie,” he calls over his shoulder, and Jungkook swears under his breath, hating this nickname to no ends.
“Asshole,” he mutters, a dull sort of resignation crawling through his insides, like he already knows this is going to be a nightmare.
Still, as he stares at the wreckage of his flat, he wonders if Namjoon’s truly right this time. 
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Namjoon wasn’t right. 
Jungkook slouches in the too-small chair, arms crossed tightly over his buffed-out chest, tail flicking with absolute irritation. The claws of one hand tap against the armrest beside him, an aggravated click click click that makes the snow owl hybrid perched opposite him raise a single, unimpressed eyebrow.
This is hell. He’s decided that’s where he is, hell, specifically designed for panther hybrids who don’t know how to behave. The small office is too stuffy for his liking, and Dr. Min Yoongi’s wide stupid eyes never blink, which is doing nothing for Jungkook’s nerves. What kind of therapist stares you down like they’re trying to out-brood you?
Dr. Min hasn’t said much yet, just the usual introductions and a few polite questions about Jungkook’s life that Jungkook hasn’t bothered answering properly. He doesn’t want to be here. He doesn’t want to talk. And he definitely doesn’t want some fucking owl hybrid poking around in his head too. 
“This hostility,” Dr. Min says finally with his stupid slow and calm voice, like he’s got all the time in the world. “Do you ever stop to think where it comes from?”
Jungkook snorts, leaning back in the chair even more with a huff and a sneer. “Why don’t you tell me, Doctor?” His voice drips sarcasm, and his claws tap faster on the armrest, though he hopes the owl doesn’t notice. “Aren’t you supposed to have all the answers?”
Dr. Min tilts his head, feathers ruffling slightly in what Jungkook guesses might be owl irritation. “I don’t have the answers. I just help you find them yourself. But I can tell you one thing: it’s not everyone else who’s the problem.”
That gets under Jungkook’s fur immediately. He leans forward, glaring at the owl. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means,” Dr. Min says, entirely too casually for Jungkook’s liking, “that you’re spending a lot of energy being angry at the world when maybe the problem starts a bit closer to home.”
“Piss off,” Jungkook snaps, his tail whipping uncontrollably against the chair.
Though Dr. Min doesn’t flinch. Of course, he doesn’t. Snow owls probably don’t flinch at anything. He just blinks slowly and sets his clipboard down. 
“You can keep deflecting all you want,” he leans back in his chair with an irritating air of calm, “but it’s not going to make things better for you. Or for anyone else around you.”
Jungkook growls low in his throat, claws digging into the armrests now. “You don’t know a fucking thing about me.”
“I know enough,” Dr. Min muses, no, taunts for Jungkook to say otherwise. “I know you’re angry all the time. I know it’s not working out for you. And I know you came here because you’re tired of it, even if you won’t admit it.”
Jungkook opens his mouth to argue, but the words stick in his throat. He is tired. Exhausted, even. But hearing it said out loud makes him feel vulnerable, and vulnerability is just about the last thing he wants right now.
Thankfully, Dr. Min doesn’t press. He just watches, his head cocked to one side as if he’s studying some particularly complex puzzle. “Tell me, Jungkook, what do you want to get out of this?”
“To leave,” Jungkook fires back instantly.
Dr. Min hums, like that’s about what he expected. “Alright. And then what? Go back to your flat, shred some more curtains? Snap at your brother? Growl at strangers on the street?”
Jungkook bristles. “That’s not—”
“Not what? Not the truth? Because from where I’m sitting, that’s exactly what you’re doing. And it’s not solving anything, is it?”
Jungkook falls silent, his jaw tight and his claws digging deeper into the armrests, seconds from piercing the poor wood.
“Look,” Dr. Min sighs after a moment. “This isn’t about blame. It’s not about you being a bad person or a bad hybrid or any of that bullock. It’s about figuring out why you feel the way you do and finding ways to make it better. That’s it.”
Jungkook glares at him, but he doesn’t have a snappy comeback this time.
“You don’t have to like me,” Dr. Min continues, “and you don’t even have to like this process. But you do have to try. Otherwise, you’re just wasting your time. And mine.”
That rankles more than it should. Wasting time? Like Jungkook doesn’t already know he’s been wasting time for years?
“I’m not—” he starts, but Dr. Min cuts him off again.
“I’m going to prescribe you an aggression management program,” he pulls a form out of his clipboard. “It’s a program at a hybrid clinic. You’ll work through your anger, learn some coping mechanisms. I think it’ll help.”
Jungkook’s hackles rise immediately. “You think what? No way.”
“It’s not a punishment,” Dr. Min holds up a hand to forestall the argument he can see brewing. “It’s a resource. You don’t have to do it forever, but I need you to try it. Commit to the first session. That’s all.”
“You’re having a laugh,” he growls, standing up abruptly. “I don’t need some clinic full of strangers telling me how to ‘cope’.” He practically spits the last word.
Though Dr. Min doesn’t react, just scribbles something on the form and tears it off, holding it out calmly. “You don’t have to like it, but you do need it. Take this to the clinic. They’ll get you started.”
Jungkook doesn’t move to take the paper, just stands there frozen, bristling, and fuming, seconds from tearing this hellhole down. The audacity. Who does he think he is, telling Jungkook he’s got to go to some stupid program like a naughty schoolkid?
“If you don’t take it,” Dr. Min taunts, his voice maddeningly even, “I’ll just send it to your brother. And something tells me Namjoon will make sure you go.”
Jungkook’s growl deepens while his eyes turn into dangerous slits, but he snatches the paper out of the owl’s hand regardless before storming to the door, flipping his middle finger over his shoulder in farewell. 
As he stalks down the corridor, the paper crumpled in his fist, his mind still races, spirals. The nerve of that guy. Sitting there all smug, handing out life advice like he’s got it all figured out. And what’s with prescribing some program after one meeting? Like he knows Jungkook at all?
His tail lashes behind him, and his claws itch to tear into something, preferably Dr. Min’s stupid, unflappable face. Though he doesn’t turn around. 
“This is bullshit,” Jungkook mutters under his breath, cramming the paper into his pocket. He doesn’t need some clinic. He doesn’t need therapy. He just needs everyone to fuck off and leave him alone. For good. 
But as he steps outside, his anger not the least tamed under the surface, a small, unwelcome voice in the back of his mind whispers: What if it actually helps?
Jungkook growls again, louder this time, startling some kids walking by while he shoves the thought away. No chance. Dr. Min’s got no fucking clue what he’s talking about.
And yet, as he walks home, the crumpled paper feels heavier in his pocket than it should.
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Yep, Jungkook hates this place, hated it the second he stepped into this forsaken shit hole of a clinic.
The walls are painted this weird pastel green, the air smells faintly of antiseptic, and the receptionist at the front desk had looked at him like she didn’t believe he’d made it this far without biting someone’s head off. She wasn’t wrong though, but it doesn’t mean she had to act like she knew it.
He’s again slouched in one of the too-small chairs in the waiting room, glaring at the ground. His sharp black ears twitch in irritation, catching every little sound, the receptionist tapping on her keyboard, the cheap buzzing light overhead, some fucking bird hybrid chirping on about “hEaLiNg tHrOuGh cOnNeCtIoN” in a pamphlet on the coffee table.
Jungkook’s tail flicks once, twice, then lashes against the leg of the chair. He’s ready to walk out, tear the door off its hinges, and forget this whole stupid idea ever came up.
Except he can’t. He’s promised Namjoon he’d give this a go.
Jungkook snorts like he so often does. As if Namjoon’s got room to talk. He’s been with his mate for years and doesn’t have to worry about stuff like this. Still, Jungkook knows he’s got to figure something out. He’s tired of being pissed off all the time. Tired of everything, tired of himself.
And that’s why he has to be here. Some “aggression management program” he really doesn’t want to be a part of but doesn’t have another option. Fucking Dr. Min. 
He doesn’t even know what they’re going to do to him. He didn’t really listen to the receptionist beyond “spend the night with a companion”. Whatever that means.
The sound of a door opening jolts him out of his spiralling thoughts and he sits up, narrowing his amber eyes at the woman walking towards him, a staff member, by the looks of her, clipboard in hand and a neutral expression on her face.
“Jeon Jungkook?”
“That’s me,” he says with clipped voice. His ears pin back slightly, a reflex he doesn’t bother controlling.
“Right. Follow me, then.” She doesn’t flinch at his tone, just turns on her heel and starts down the corridor.
Jungkook rises to his feet with a grunt, his tall, muscular frame practically filling the hallway as he stalks after her. He can’t help but feel like this is some kind of trap. They’re probably going to put him in a padded room or something.
The woman stops outside a door, turning to face him. “Now, before you go in, I need to remind you, this is a controlled environment. Your companion has been trained to handle aggressive hybrids, but that doesn’t mean you can be reckless. Understood?”
He bares his teeth in what might pass as a smile, though it’s more of a grimace. “Yeah, yeah. I get it.”
She doesn’t look convinced but steps aside to let him through. Jungkook squares his shoulders, pushes the door open, and—
Oh~
The first thing he notices is the scent. Soft and warm, like freshly laundered blankets and a hint of magnolia. It wraps around him before his eyes even land on you.
And when they do… fucking hell.
You’re perched on the edge of a plush armchair, a white British shorthair with fur so soft-looking he almost wants to touch it straight away. Your fluffy tail swishes lazily over the armrest, and your round eyes, so wide and curious, lift to meet his.
You’re cute. Too cute. Jungkook feels his throat tighten. What is this?!
“Hello,” you greet with a voice that’s as soft as the rest of you.
He doesn’t respond right away, standing stiff in the doorway, his dark tail flicking behind him like a warning. But you’re not fazed. You tilt your head, offering a little smile that makes his heart twitch for the first time in his life. 
“You can sit down, if you like,” you gesture to the other chair in the room.
He exhales through his nose, trying to shake the tension out of his shoulders as he moves to the chair. It’s awkward. He’s all muscle and sharp angles, and everything about you is so gentle.
Jungkook doesn’t know what he expected, but it wasn’t this. He’s meant to spend the night with you? What’s the point? You’re too small, too quiet, too…
Perfect, his brain supplies, unhelpfully.
“Are you nervous?” you pull him out of his thoughts.
His ears twitch, and he glares at you out of instinct, “What’s there to be nervous about?”
You shrug, your tail curling delicately around your own leg. “You just seem a bit tense.”
Tense. Right. That’s one way of putting it. He shifts in his seat, his claws flexing against the armrest.
“You don’t have to be,” you continue. Your voice is so calm, it’s like you don’t even notice how tightly wound he is. Or maybe you do, and you just don’t care. “I’m not here to judge you or anything. We’re just meant to spend time together. That’s all.”
He scoffs, though it comes out weaker than he intends. “And that’s supposed to fix me, yeah?”
“I don’t know about ‘fixing’,” you give a little shrug. “But it might help. You seem like you’ve got a lot on your mind.”
Jungkook bristles, because he doesn’t know what to do, but you’re not wrong. He just doesn’t know how to respond to that, so he just watches as you shift slightly in your seat, your tail uncurling and sweeping across the cushion.
It’s hypnotic, the way it moves. So white, thick, and fluffy, like it was made for wrapping around someone.
“You can talk to me, you know,” you try gently.
“I don’t talk,” he snaps, more out of habit than actual anger.
But you don’t flinch. You just watch him, those big eyes of yours soft and unbothered, as if you’ve seen it all before. And maybe you did. 
“That’s okay. We don’t have to talk. We can just sit here.”
Jungkook frowns. Who are you, and why are you so… unbothered? It’s unnerving. And comforting. And annoying.
He doesn’t know how long the two of you sit in silence, but eventually, you stand up and stretch, your arms raising above your head, your tail flicking lazily behind you. Jungkook’s eyes catch on the movement, and he feels the tension in his own body start to ebb.
“I’ll come over here, then,” you murmur, padding over to his chair.
“Wait, what’re you—”
But you’re already settling onto the armrest of his chair, close enough that he can feel the warmth radiating off you, breathe your scent in. Your tail brushes lightly against his arm, and Jungkook stiffens right back again. 
“You don’t mind, do you?” you tilt your head to look at him, still so much smaller than him despite being elevated quite a bit. 
He should mind. He should tell you to back off, though he can’t help but mutter defeatedly, “Do what you want.”
You smile, and it’s like the room gets as brighter as your fur. Then you do something that nearly makes his brain short-circuit.
You wrap your tail around his arm.
It’s the softest thing he’s ever felt, and he freezes, every instinct screaming at him to pull away or growl or do something. But he doesn’t. He just stares at the white fluff curling around his dark sleeve, his heart thudding out of his chest onto his thighs. 
“There,” you coo softly. “Isn’t that nice?”
Nice? Nice doesn’t even begin to cover it. It’s like every spike inside him has been sanded down at once. He doesn’t even realise he’s leaning back into the chair, his shoulders relaxing for the first time in… he can’t remember how long.
You keep talking, your voice a soothing balm to his racing mind and heart, but Jungkook’s barely able to listen. All he can think about is how good this feels. How you feel. How the growl that’s been simmering in his throat all day has died down to nothing.
After a while, he sneaks again a glance at you. You’re not looking at him, though. Just staring off into the middle distance like this is the most normal thing in the world, sitting on the arm of some massive panther hybrid’s chair like you haven’t got a care in the world.
“What happens then?” he asks suddenly, maybe a bit too gravelly. He doesn’t really mean to say it, but the words are out now. He’s not great with silence, never has been.
You turn your head and meet his gaze with those big, round eyes of yours. Again unbothered. Completely fucking unbothered by the size of him, the way his claws are tapping the arm of the chair like he’s seconds away from tearing through the padding. You’re not scared of him. He’s not sure how to feel about that.
“Whatever you need,” you shrug. “Cuddles, a chat, whatever helps.”
Jungkook blinks, caught off guard by the simplicity of it. “That it?” he mutters, shifting in his seat. His tail swishes again, knocking lightly against your side on accident and he instantly feels sorry. But again, you don’t even flinch. “That’s what you’re here for, then? Just… comfort?”
“Mmm.” You stretch your feet slightly, dangling a good distance from the floor. “That’s the job.”
His ears twitch. “So you do this with everyone?”
The words come out more jealous than he means them to, and he winces internally. He’s always got a fucking tone, even when he’s not trying to. But you don’t seem bothered. You tilt your head slightly, considering him, then shake it once.
“Nah,” you say casually. “Sleeping with‘em’s off limits.”
He stares at you, unblinking with his lips parted. You don’t elaborate, don’t explain, just leave it there like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. His tail has stopped moving too, his claws completely retracted, fingertips resting against the fabric of the chair. There’s something oddly reassuring about the way you said it, like it’s not even a question, not a possibility. And for some reason, that makes him feel so much better. Not that he’d ever say it out loud.
“Right,” he grumbles, leaning back in his seat. He keeps his arms crossed, though, just to give himself something to do. He’s not about to let you see how much your answer affects him. No chance.
Time passes slowly, the two of you existing in a semi-comfortable sort of quiet, but eventually, you hop down from the armrest and pad over to the bed, tail dancing gracefully behind you. Jungkook watches you go, pretending he’s not, especially when you climb onto the bed and settle in, stretching out like he wasn’t even there.
“You coming or what? It’s late.” you glance at him over your shoulder. Your tone is light, teasing, and it does make his throat dry up. He stands abruptly, shoving his hands into his pockets, and strides over to the bed like he’s got something to prove, though he doesn’t know what exactly. 
Reluctantly, or rather clumsily, he climbs in, the mattress dipping under his massive weight, and lies stiffly on his back, nails digging into the duvet laying over you both. You’re beside him, close but not too close, and he’s hyperaware of every fucking inch of space between you. His tail flicks against the duvet and the mattress, restless as his mind is, and he starts to feel embarrassed for it.
“You’re still tense.”
“Not tense,” he squeaks out. It’s a lie, obviously. He’s never been good at this, the whole vulnerability thing, letting his guard down. But you just hum softly, like you know better, and he feels the bed shift slightly as you move closer.
Your hand brushes his arm, and he can’t help but to again freeze pathetically, as his tail stops flicking, lying still under the covers. You don’t say anything, just let your hand rest there, and slowly, so slowly it’s almost physically painful, he starts to relax again.
“You’re alright, you know,” you breathe softly. “You don’t have to keep your claws out all the time.”
He huffs out a breath, somewhere between a laugh and a scoff. “Easier said than done.”
“I know,” there’s something in your tone that makes him believe you. Like you really do get it. Like you’ve been there, done that. 
Minutes pass, the quiet settling over you both. He’s not sure when it happens, but at some point, he shifts slightly, turning onto his side to face you. You’re close, so close he can see the soft rise and fall of your chest, the way your whiskers twitch slightly as you breathe. His eyes flicker to your lips, then back up to your eyes, and he clears his throat, suddenly too nervous for his own good.
“You’re my mate now,” he blurts out, the words rough and unpolished and oh-so embarrassing. 
You blink, startled, and then, to his absolute horror, you laugh. Not a mean laugh, though. It’s soft, warm, almost affectionate, and it makes his ears flatten against his head, blush painting his cheeks as he nibbles on his lower lip. 
“That’s how you ask someone?” you gasp through your laugh, a teasing lilt in your voice. “All gruff and demanding?”
“What’s wrong with that?” he mutters, defensive.
You shake your head, still smiling, and reach out to tap him lightly on the nose. He freezes, stunned by the casual intimacy of it.
“Try again. Nicely, this time.”
He swallows, the lump in his throat almost too much to bear, and nods once, takes a deep breath. He wants you as his mate, no doubt about it, though stating it too plainly again will surely push you away, and that’s the last thing Jungkook wants, what he needs.
“If… if you’d like, uh, if you’re okay with it, I’d love to be your mate?” It’s pathetically high-pitched, but dear Lord have mercy, he can’t screw this up now, not with his nerves all over the place.
You smile, a proper smile this time, and lean in close, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. He’s so startled he doesn’t move at first, but then his body takes over, and he’s kissing you back, his hand coming up to cup the back of your head. It’s soft and slow and everything he didn’t know he needed.
When you pull back, you’re both a little breathless, and you reach out to grab the edge of the duvet, pulling it up over both your heads. “No cameras,” you murmur, and he can’t help the soft laugh that escapes him, feeling the corners of his eyes crinkle for the first time since his childhood. 
Letting his big hands glide across your fur, Jungkook can’t help but capture your lips yet again, knowing that the taste of you has become his favourite after just one try.
“You’re not working here anymore,” he grumbles against your teeth, which are gracing his lower lip. But as soon as the words escape him, you halt, pull away, and narrow your eyes at him, something so out of character for you, yet it makes his blood rush just that bit faster through his veins.
“Pardon?” It’s not said angrily, though there’s a warning underneath the mellowness of your tone that makes him gulp.
He realises quickly that he needs to change his approach. Needs to get rid of the harsh, aggressive tone now. And if it means being a little pussy for you, then that’s exactly what he’s willing to do.
“Please stop working here. I can provide for you. I’ve got the money, I’ve got everything you need. Please.”
Your lip twitches and your body shifts closer to his, just a fraction, and he knows he’s said it the right way even before you open your mouth.
“Okay, I’d love that.”
If he were a stupid dog, his tail would have knocked the duvet clean off the bed by now. But instead, he starts to fucking purr, a sound that surprises him almost as much as it seems to surprise you. Your eyes widen, then soften, and your own purr begins, pulling both of you back into the bliss of tangled lips and hands leisurely exploring your clothed bodies.
“My pretty kitten,” Jungkook husks when your tiny canines nip at his throat. The devastatingly sweet moan you let out at his nickname makes his chest swell in ways he’s never felt before.
Not wanting to get caught on CCTV, you both opt to just slip out of your bottoms, hiding them under the pillows to avoid them landing on the open floor. Jungkook’s hands find their way to your thighs, squeezing and caressing up to your heat until he’s able to coat his fingers in your arousal.
He can’t process the delicate feel of your tiny hand wrapping around his massive cock, your dainty fingers struggling to even grip him properly. The sheer size of him leaves you working to pump him to full erection, while the scent and squelching sounds of your arousal fill his senses, utterly consuming every fibre of his being.
“Move in with me,” he blurts out, overwhelmed by emotions so beautiful he doesn’t know how to contain them.
Your answer comes with a sharp bite to his left pec. Even though he’s still wearing his shirt, the nip startles him slightly.
“Would you please move in with me, kitten?” he tries again, words more thoughtful this time. 
“Of course, Kookie.” You purr against his lips now, draping a leg over his side and guiding his already leaking cock to your weeping entrance.
Under any other circumstances, someone calling him Kookie would drive him mad, he’d probably bite their head off. But with you? He loves it. Hell, if you called him a pussy, he’d happily fall to his knees and agree, Yes, he’s your pussy, and he’s fucking proud of it.
Your tight cunt fits him like a glove, sucking him in inch by inch as your hips roll against his. There’s no space left between you, no gap to measure. The whimpers and grunts falling from his lips are all he can muster, his mind utterly blank and for the first time, everything feels so right, so perfect, that it sends a different kind of adrenaline through him.
Everything Namjoon and Dr. Min ever said to him finally makes sense. Everything makes sense because of you. Because of your being, your beautiful soul, your kind and calm heart, your sweet moans, and your perfect cunt. Jungkook never believed in paradise before, but God, you’ve shown him it exists, and it’s named after you.
“Kookie, you’re so perfect,” you moan, your lips and tongue tangling and untangling with his over and over, recalibrating everything he once knew and trusted.
“Kitten…” His whine is embarrassingly submissive, but he doesn’t care. Not now. Not ever. In this primal state, you’re his guiding light, and he’ll follow you anywhere. No questions asked. 
He tries to stay as silent as possible, moving just enough to keep the duvet from sliding off, but the feeling of your cunt clenching around him with every thrust drives him dangerously close to the edge. His breathing turns too laboured in the suffocating heat beneath, and when one of your hands slips between your bodies to massage his balls, his resolve crumbles.
“Don’t,” he rasps, head and eyes lolling back. He’s desperate to hold on just a little longer, but your sugary voice pushes him over the brink.
“It’s fine, Kookie,” you whisper, biting his lower lip and tugging at it before letting it snap back. “Cum for me, Kookie. Be a good boy for your kitten.”
And he is. He’s such a good boy when he lets go, his hips erratically driving against yours as his free hand claws into your ass, pulling you impossibly closer. He doesn’t even notice your orgasm arriving as quickly as his own until your walls spasm around him, milking every last rope of his release. He knows that after this night, after this nut, he’s a changed man.
“Good boy, Kookie.”
He’s going to make it right, somehow. He’s going to be good. For you. For himself. For everyone.
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Later that same day, Jungkook’s pacing the flat like his tail’s on fire, which it might as well be given how much it’s lashing about. He’s got a broom in one hand, a bucket of soapy water in the other, and absolutely no clue where to start. The place looks�� kind of better than it used to, but that’s not saying much. He’s scrubbed the claw marks out of the walls where he could, patched the worst of the holes with dodgy plaster, and thrown a blanket over the mangled sofa. But it’s still his flat. And his flat is a disaster. Literally. 
He glances at the clock on the wall, then back at the battered door, his ears twitching nervously. You’re due any minute now, and he’s not ready. Not mentally, not emotionally, and definitely not domestically.
“Fucking hell,” he mutters to himself, scrubbing furiously at a smudge on the floor. “What was I thinking? Inviting her to this?”
He’s tried telling himself you won’t care, that you’re not the type to judge, but it doesn’t help. You’re a white British shorthair hybrid, graceful, elegant, put-together in ways Jungkook doesn’t even know how to be. He’s never met anyone like you before, and now you’re moving in. With him.
His claws flex instinctively, and he has to stop himself from raking them across the wall yet again. He needs to take deep breaths, no more damage. Not now, not ever again. 
The intercom sings as if mocking him even further, startling Jungkook to the point where he nearly drops the broom.
“Shit,” he mutters repeatedly, chucking the cleaning supplies into the nearest cupboard where they definitely do not belong and hastily swiping his damp hands down his trousers.
He opens the door to find you standing there with a suitcase that barely would fit one of his shoes in one hand and a smile that could knock the last brain cells out of him.
“Hi,” you greet softly, tail curling behind you in a delicate arc.
Jungkook freezes for half a second, his brain scrambling to process how small you look compared to him, how soft your ears are, how fucking perfect you seem in his doorway. Then he remembers himself.
“Uh, hi,” he stammers, stepping aside awkwardly. “Come in. Sorry, it’s… yeah. Come in.”
And you do, taking a careful look around, and Jungkook’s stomach knots up even more. He can see your eyes flicking to the patched-up walls, the threadbare carpet, the uneven paint job. He feels like a kid getting his homework marked, and he hates everything of it.
“It’s not great,” he blurts out, his tail twitching nervously behind him, though barely lifted off the floor. “I mean, it’s better than it was, but it’s still…does it bother you?”
You turn to him, your head tilting upwards, and there’s that mesmerising smile again. “No, it doesn’t bother me. I’m sure you won’t be needing this outlet anymore now that I’m here.”
Jungkook blinks at you, his ears perking up. “What d’you mean?”
You shrug, setting your suitcase down gently. “All this.” You gesture vaguely at the room behind you. “I’m guessing it’s the sort of thing that happens when you don’t have someone to keep you steady. But you do now, right?”
For a moment, Jungkook doesn’t know what to say. His heart’s fluttering weirdly in his chest to the point where it hurts, and he’s half sure he’s forgotten how to breathe.
“Yeah,” he finally presses out. “Yeah, I guess I do.”
You smile again, and Jungkook feels like he’s just been handed a second chance at life he didn’t even know he wanted.
“Right,” he claps, clearing his throat and trying to sound normal. “Let’s get you settled, then.”
He picks up your suitcase, surprised by how light it is, and carries it to his bedroom, your room. It’s the only part of the flat he’s really proud of, the one place he’s managed to make look half-decent. There’s a fluffy throw on his bed now, soft pillows, and a little lamp with a warm glow he brought on the way home earlier this day. It’s not much, but it’s cosy.
You step inside, and your tail swishes as you take it all in. “It’s lovely,” you gush, and Jungkook feels a ridiculous swell of pride.
“I, uh, wanted it to be comfortable. Figured you’d like… soft things.”
You laugh softly, and it’s the kind of laugh that makes Jungkook’s ears twitch in a way he’s not used to but surely would not mind happening again and again. “You figured right,” you step forward, running your fingers over the throw.
Jungkook watches you fondly, dumbly in love, before gesturing back to the rest of the flat. “I’ll, uh, give you a tour, if you want.”
You follow him around as he points out the kitchen, the bathroom, the little living room. He tries to brush past the obvious flaws, the wobbly table, the poorly fixed cabinets, but you don’t seem to mind. You just nod along, your tail curling in that slow, content way that makes Jungkook feel like this really isn’t going to be a total disaster.
Once your suitcase is unpacked, you curl up on the sofa, your fluffy tail wrapping neatly around your legs while Jungkook can’t stop watching you, but equally unsure what to do with himself.
“You alright?” you ask, looking up at him with those big, soft eyes.
“Yeah,” he breathes quickly, dropping onto the armchair opposite. “Just… yeah.”
You giggle, making grabby hands his way which he can’t ignore, trotting over to you without a second thought. As soon as he’s sitting beside you, arm draped over your delicate shoulders, he feels himself start to loosen entirely again like last night, realising, that for once, he can just be.
“Thanks for this,” you beam at him, snuggling into his side, purring and kneading your tiny hands against his shirt. 
Jungkook shrugs, trying to play it cool, even though he doesn’t know what you’re thanking him for. “It’s no big deal.”
But it is. It’s the biggest deal he’s ever had, and as he watches you being this content beside him, he knows you’ll be the best thing that’s ever happened to him.
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itsjusthockey · 6 months ago
Text
Hughes Your Daddy pt.2 - Jack Hugges
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wow.
It took longer than expected, but you should all be thankful because I was going to quit this blog, but I didn't give up
tell me how proud you are and how much you love it. pls & thx
Anyway, enjoy ❤️
w.c: 2,754 (credit to gif maker) (don't steal my work)
The crisp 100-dollar bill you’ve just won sits nicely tucked in your back pocket as Jack breaks the world record for sprinting and dodging almost a million cameras to get to you. As soon as he crashes into your waiting arms, he lifts you into the air and lets out a breathy laugh in your ear that’s only reserved when you’re with him. It’s light, happy, and maybe even a little giddy.
After a moment of you being suspended in the air, he gently sets you down, giving you one last tight squeeze, then backs up to see your face.
“Did I embarrass you?”
You give him a slight smirk and shrug your shoulders. “You did okay.”
He playfully rolls his eyes, shaking his head at you as he moves on to hug his waiting parents. With his attention away from you, you survey the space and catch sight of the other Hughes brothers walking toward the group.
Luke is doing his little half smile and has a slight pep in his step that comes with a nice win, and Quinn looks about unbothered with everything as usual. You make a mental note of that, knowing that your evil boyfriend is going to push his buttons later to get any sort of reaction to his loss.
“Nice game, Lukey,” you pull him into a hug as he gets within distance, patting his arm as you pull away. “You’re kinda being a stud out there.”
Luke blushes a shade darker at your comment, and you can’t help but love knowing you can still get a rise out of him. Luke moves on, too, and you’re left facing the only Hughes brother who didn’t have a win tonight.
“Tough loss cap.” You hug Quinn tightly before glancing back at your boyfriend and leaning in slightly to whisper in his ear. “But we all know you’re still the best.”
Quinn gives you a small laugh, and you can see his head is held a little higher as you pull him to join the circle with the rest of the family. As soon as you do, Jack opens his smart mouth.
“Family circles are for winners only.”
As soon as the words leave his lips, Ellen hisses his name, and you pinch the back of his arm as hard as you can.
“Ow,” he yelps at you, rubbing his arm. “What was that for?”
You give him a look that tells him exactly what that was for, to which he rolls his eyes at you.
“He knows it’s in good fun,” Jack says. “Right Q?”
This time, Quinn rolls his eyes but nonetheless nods his head.
The group chats about the game for a couple of minutes before unanimously deciding that family dinner is a must, and then you’ll head back to Quinn’s place for one last night altogether. As soon as the decision is made, you beeline to follow when Jack holds you back for a second.
“Dinner, just you and me, okay?” He all but pleads, pulling you toward him.
You glance back at his family walking away, seemingly unaware you two fell behind.
“They want to see you too, J.”
He grabs your hands and pulls even closer, leaving no room for any personal space. “They don’t care that much, and I haven’t had a second alone with you.”
His point is fair, but you also are torn by the fact that it isn’t very often that all three brothers are together.
“C’mon (Y/N). The winner should get a reward dinner right?”
You raise your eyebrow at him. “Then shouldn’t we invite Luke?”
He snorts at your comment and shakes his head.
“Please, I did the heavy lifting.”
Twenty minutes later, you’re at a nice restaurant in downtown Vancouver. It’s big yet cozy and has low lighting, making it slightly romantic. You’re impressed with Jack's pick, but you also know deep in your heart he probably asked Quinn for his recommendations.
Your reserved table is in a cozy little corner, and a bottle of wine is sitting out, ready to be poured. You’re beyond happy with the setup, but you can’t help but feel a little underdressed as you both walk toward your seats. Jack has his game-day suit, but you’re still clad in a red and black jersey with the number eighty-six plastered across the back.
“This is wonderful, J, but you couldn’t warn me to wear something a little nicer.”
He pulls out the chair for you before you sit down, and as he crosses to the seat directly opposite you, he laughs.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He smirks. “This is my favorite outfit for you to be in.”
You roll your eyes as far back as possible but let it go. You are proud to be his girlfriend, and you allow him to have this little ego boost for one evening.
You spend the next hour talking about everything and nothing, and when the bill comes, Jack hands over his card, and you two pack up the leftovers you have, knowing Luke will destroy them once you get back to the house.
Once the card returns, you head out into the chill Vancouver night with Jack's arms wrapped around your waist. The walk to the car is short and filled with your usual light banter. As soon as you're within the view of the car, you go to swat away Jack's arm when he gets a little too handsy, but not before your boyfriend reaches into your back pocket and pulls out the hundred dollar bill that was safely hidden.
He eyes the bill with curiosity and darts his eyes back and forth between you and the bill for a few seconds.
“What this?”
“Cash?” You deadpan, moving to snatch the bill away, but he holds it out of your grip.
“You never carry cash.” He narrows his eyes slightly, then a dawning look crosses his face.
“This is the fourth hundred I’ve found in your pocket after a game with my brothers.”
You give him a surprised look but shake your head no.
“It’s just a coincidence, Jack.”
He passes you back the bill, but let’s put a low whistle. “Twice is a coincidence. Four times is a pattern.”
Before you can open the passenger door to the car, Jack blocks his body with it, tilting his head to the side and eyeing you up and down.
“You wanna know how I think you’re getting the money?”
You let out a puff of air, wishing he’d drop it, but you also know your boyfriend, and he will never let it go.
“Sure.” You take a step closer to him. “Let’s hear your theory.”
He smirks again and leans toward you as if he’s going to tell you a secret.
“I think you’re betting with my dad.”
You freeze when he speaks and must admit he’s smarter than he looks. You want to deny the accusation, but you simply shrug your shoulders and lean away from him.
“An excellent theory, J, but alas, it’s none of your business.”
You meet his stare, lean into him to kiss him on the cheek, and then body-check him from the side, and he stumbles just enough to allow you to climb into the passenger seat.
He heads to the driver a second later, and when he climbs in, the conversation is merely forgotten. You go back into talking about everything you’ve missed in each other's lives until you pull into the familiar driveway.
The house is decently quiet when you walk in, and when you round into the dining room, you see Luke and Quinn on opposite sides of the table, a checkerboard between them. Luke is stressed, chewing slightly on his hand, and across from him, Quinn sits with a smug smile and a stack of chips next to him.
“C'mon Lu, you’re better than this.” You say, gently patting his shoulder as you bring the leftovers to the fridge.
He huffs and glares at Quinn. “I am better, and I think he’s cheating somehow.”
Jack pipes up from behind you. “How can you cheat at checkers?”
Luke huffs again and mutters a quiet “he’s finding a way” under his breath, returning his attention to the board.
Jack crosses the room and sits down next to Luke, saying he’s playing the next round to defeat Quinn for the second time that night, and as soon as he takes his attention off you, you beeline to the living room in hopes of finding your gambling partner.
You find Jim and Ellen in the living room, and when you enter, they’re beyond excited to see you. You sit on the opposite chair and lean over to them both, whispering so the boy in the other room won’t hear you.
“Jack is onto us.”
Jim gives you a confused look.
“He knows about the betting.”
Ellen lets a giant laugh bubble past her lips, and soon enough, you’re all laughing about the situation.
“Out of all of them to figure it out,” Jim says, shaking his head.
You smile at them both, telling them how the secret came out, and in the end, they shrug it off.
“Just because he knows doesn’t mean we should stop. If anything, maybe it will be more of an incentive.”
You smile ear to ear and relax back into the chair, knowing that the little game won’t end, even if the boys know about it. You settle back into casual conversation for a while before you hear some commotion from the dining room, and Ellen gives you a knowing look.
You walk swiftly back into the dining where the chaos is, and when you enter, you see Quinn sitting calmly with his arms crossed and Jack standing in front of him, surrounded by all the tiny checker pieces with the board flipped upside down.
You can’t stifle your laughter, and you high-five Quinn across the table as Jack turns to you with a cold stare.
“You two can laugh all you want. I still won the actual game tonight.”
Quinn shrugs his shoulders at Jack. “Well, I just won the game that clearly matters more. So who’s the real winner tonight.”
Quinn throws you a wink as he begins cleaning up the pieces on the floor, and Jack follows suit, angrily putting them into the little pouch they came in.
You watch them clean up the game and go to stand by Luke, who’s eating your leftovers and quietly watching the scene unfold in front of him.
“Did you just stand here the whole time?” You ask.
He takes another large bite. “I enjoyed the show.”
You knock your shoulder against him, and a few minutes later, all the games are put away, and you all decide to join the parents in the living room. There, you watch a few episodes of The Office under Jack's hold, and soon enough, you find yourself dozing off in the comfortable position and extra body heat.
You're not sure how long you're asleep until you wake up hearing some shuffling around you. You open your eyes and see that Ellen and Jim have already left, and Luke and Quinn are moving around, getting ready also to leave the shared space. Quinn folds up a blanket and places it on the couch when you quietly whisper at him.
“Is he asleep?” You ask, referring to the boy behind you who’s gripped has softened a bit and whose breath has gone steady.
Quinn nods and whispers back a goodnight, leaving you and Jack alone in the living room. You’re perfectly content to stay on the coach, but that doesn’t last until you feel Jack move behind you.
“What time is it?” He mutters.
You look around for your phone, and when you click on the screen, it reads about half an hour before midnight. You show him the screen, and he hums.
“Wanna go to bed?”
You nod, slinging your legs to the side and getting up. Your muscles are stiff, and you stretch them out as Jack follows close behind you to the shared bedroom you've been occupying this weekend.
As you are busy getting ready for bed, Jack joins you in your domestic bliss, washing your face together and brushing your teeth. You can’t help but smile into the toothpaste because every time you go to stare at him, he’s already looking at you, and a blush creeps into his cheeks when he gets caught.
You finish up, climbing into your pajamas, and when you walk back into the room, Jack is already under the covers, looking at his phone. As soon as he notices you, he tosses the device away and lifts the sheets, patting the space beside him.
You crawl in, and within a moment, his arms wrap securely around you, and you’re pulled to his chest. All the stress of finals, flying back and forth, and life in general melt away, and for the first time in a long while, you know you’ll get the best sleep tonight.
You settle in even deeper into Jack's hold, reading yourself to enter the dreamland until you’re slightly brought back when he gently taps your arm three times, your relationship code to see if you’re still awake.
“Yeah?” You ask, flipping over to face him in the darkness.
“I just have a question.” He whispers
You wait for him to ask, and after a second passes, he does.
“Of course, I’m not mad or anything. You betting with my dad is the funniest thing ever. But one thing is bugging me.”
You gently rub his arm, and he continues.
“How did you win?” His voice is soft. “Did you bet on us winning even though we haven’t been playing the best? Or was it something else? Do you switch teams? Or how do you decide which team you bet on?”
He throws so many questions at you that you silence him with a light kiss pressed to his lips. It effectively shuts him up, and he stays quiet until you answer.
You take a minute to speak on purpose, wanting to make him wait, but you know that his wheels are turning, and he honestly doesn’t know your secret to success, and you know you have to tell him.
It’s never a question when you’re betting with Jim; you always pick with your heart, and you’re rarely wrong, and even when you are, you’re still correct with the outcome, and you wouldn’t change it for the world.
“I never have to decide.” You press another kiss to his lips. “I always bet on you.”
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sinning-23 · 4 months ago
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Backseat Pillow Princess (Pt.2)
And by popular demand (and because ei couldn't just leave it how I had it and planned on making a part 2 anyway) I BRING YOU PT.2! I really tried to conjure of some kinky freak nasty shit in this y'all so uhhh just be dually noted that I really tried my best with this.
Warnings: tag-team, p in v, multiple rounds, refractory period? we don't know her, creampie, unprotected, biting, choking, eiffel tower in a fucking car dude it gets wicked, nipple play, edging, degrading, praise, light banter, how did we end up outside the gd car????, spit as lube
Hope yall enjoy lol the endingit idk ill probably tweak it later yall pls dotn shame me i was starting to feel bad for makingyall wait so long!
Enjoy~
PT.1 HERE
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It all happens so fast that you can hardly register the clash of teeth and tongue. You can feel the growl that rises up his throat and past his lips on your own, the taste metallic but sweet.
You’re breathless, Wade attacking your neck with the same speed and intensity. Your senses are overwhelmed, body riding a 9-hour (give or take) high.
"You are a fucking sicko, you’re soaked through the leather." Logan grunts, tugging your lower lip with his canines,
"Forget that, look at her tits," Wade gasps, looking at the little bumps your hardened nipples made through the fabric.
Part of you should feel embarrassed but you can’t seem to function when there're two separate mouths and two pairs of hands adorning your body. If your uniform wasn't torn to shreds, it definitely was now, a familiar set of claws slicing latex leather away from your flesh easily.
"Great now what am I supposed to wear when this is over?! At least be a little nice to me!" You huff, peeling the shredded fabric away before attacking the older man before you.
A bit surprised, Logan leans back against the door, your chest flush against him as your breaths mix, hot and heavy in the space. You can feel Wade shift, large hands at your hips with your ass against his pelvis. Finding Logan’s zipper was easy, your fingertips tugging at it as you caught his lower lip between your teeth.
"C'mon let's make this fair. I’m the only one showing some skin.” You purr, pulling the little piece of metal down to reveal tanned, toned abs. The thin sheen of sweat and blood makes them glisten.
You practically drool, the sight of them in the moonlight now seared into your brain.
"Jesus you're built like a brick fucking wall-" You gasp, hesitating to touch before running your hands down Logan's chest, then stomach.
"Like a godddamn marble sculpture," Wade adds, taking his chance to admiring the man beneath the both of you.
He chuckles a bit, shrugging his sleeves off before connecting your lips again. It’s shot though, mostly because you can’t help but look at him.
“Nuh uh, lemme see you.” You command, pushing him back against the door.
He groans, your lip tucking beteeen your teeth as you presses kisses to his pulse, trailing downward as his neck flexed perfectly with the rest of his torso and stomach.
“Gorgeous.” You mumble, finally making your way down to his v-line before licking a stripe right back towards, ending it with a faint bite.
“Shame I can’t mark you up how I want, you’ll just heal it.” You sigh, thumbs tracing Logan’s belt now.
You grind down, a heavy, “oh fuck,” leaving your lips as Wade chuckles from behind you. Speaking of which, he had managed to pull your uniform a little past your ass, his hands squeezing the flesh there.
Of course you can’t help but tilt your head back, accepting sloppy open-mouth kisses from the mercenary when he cups your pussy from behind. Purposefully dragging his middle finger between your folds, his mouth swallows up your whimpers, a grin ever present over the lower half of his scarred face.
"Shit you weren't lying, she is soaked." Wade huffs, licking a stipe up your neck, his chest flush against your back
"You know I had to find a way to get your attention, I was starting to feel left out?" Wade taunts, his ring and middle finger two-knuckles deep in you, the squelching echoing.
Logan, eager to please makes a point to suck a mouthful of your tits, his canines grazing over them. He growls, breathing hot against your skin. His free hand cups your other, thumb swiping over your nipple as your palm presses down against his bulge.
"You gonna take it out or just keep pushing on it?" Logan grumbles, hips rolling into you.
It's hard to think, pleasure flooding your senses as you try your hand at helping his length spring free. Fuck, he's rock hard. And soon enough it's in your hand, hard, hot, and dripping with precum.
If you had to give an example of a photogenic dick, his would be at the top of your list. It's got a slight upward bend, the tip slightly tanned as beads of precum rolled down the side. And right beside that slick train that oozes downward, is a thick vein adorned by a smaller one. Your mouth waters, tongue lulling out of your mouth to taste it.
You're stopped, however, when Wade grips your hair, reminding you that HE is the one with his fingers in you, making your pussy drool with each thrust.
You pause, squeezing the base of Logan's dick in response, just to have the male sigh heavily under you.
"Almost lost your manners huh? That's okay I'll help you." Wade announces, seeing the brief irritation flash behind Logan's hazel eyes.
"You ask when you want something," Wade huffs, tone low and dangerous.
You swallow hard, taking a deep breath through your nose before using your thumb to press down on the tip.
"Please?" You whimper, mouth watering now, needing nothing more than to wrap your lips around his length.
"Please what, honey?" Logan encourages, using his thumb to push past your kiss-bitten lips and press down on your tongue, the saliva dripping down his palm and forearm.
"Please let me suck it." You finish, a satisfied grin finally filling Logan's features.
He nods his head in your direction, his fist at the base as you roll your tongue out your mouth, engulfing the tip, tasting the bittersweet precum slide down your throat. He groans, releasing his hand the farther down you go.
You thank the gods above for your almost nonexistent gag reflex, because once you got a feel for just how he settled in your mouth,you wasted to time getting him acclimated to your throat.
"Fuckkkk that's it, honey, swallow." He grunts, flashing those pretty canines as you do exactly what he says, the flex of your throat making his hand shoot to your head.
Between the feeling of you gulping Logan down and Wade's fingers still stretching you out, you're bound to reach your peak at any minute now. And then you feel it.
Empty for a moment, and finally...
"What, you didn't think I was getting this pussy ready for nothing did you?" Wade chuckles, your spine shivering when his tip slid between your aching wetness.
Arching more, Wade grabs a nice handful of the flesh between your hips and your ass, easily filling your needy cunt as you lift your head, gasping in response to the stretch. A sign of saliva connects your lower lip to the slightly reddened tip of Logan's cock. All you can do is whimper, bracing yourself as Wade thrusts into you, pace quick and calculated.
"F-uck!' You hum, each thrust breakign up the syllabus
Your hands scrath at Logan's chest, using him as an anchor to keep yourself from cumming too quickly. He only chuckles, tugging your hair to place a bruising kiss on your lips, his free hand using your saliva to pick up where you'd left off.
"Squeezing, fuck you're tight." Wade huffs, teeth sinking into your shoulder as Logan's lips swallow up your painfully pleasured whine.
"Close, so close, need it" Is all you can muster up, your hips now meeting his in an attempt to speed the process up.
And sure enough, the knot that had worked its way into your core finally snaps, your strangled moans filling up and pouring out the Honda, your head throwing itself back, as you ride out the high. All you can hear are praises and encouragement from behind and in front of you, all of which are fading in and out as your ears ring.
'Thats it'
'C'mon honey give it to me'
'Good fucking girl'
'So wet holy shit'
'Look how fuckin pretty you are'
'That arch, jesus christ'
"Sooo good, oh fuck yes." You whine, tucking your lower lip between your teeth.
Once your eyes manage to flicker back open, you're met with the prettiest view, and you gasp at the sight, already feeling yourself ready for another round.
Thee he was, eyes screwed shut, brows creasing as his chest rises and falls in time with his fist, which was now dripping with thick, silky looking ropes of cum. His jaw is clenched, a growl bubbling past his lips as you reach your hand down to help guide him, the substance coating your fingertips.
"You look so pretty when you cum." You hum, then grabbing his jaw to give another forecefull yet intimate kiss, your tongues slipping past one another.
���My turn,” Logan growls, pulling the door open in one swift movement before tugging your body outside the car.
You gasp, legs feeling more like jelly after Wade had already turned your insides to mush.
You wobble a bit, using the edge of the door to steady yourself before you’re stuffed full again. An overstimulated moan forces its its way out of you. He feels even better inside than in your palm. And yet, he doesn’t move, the sound of Logan’s hollow, shaky breaths mere centimetres from your ear.
“Oh honey.” He groans, his hips moving just to slam back into you, a pleasured yelp leaving your lips in response.
“Can hardly take it, look at you fucking shaking.” He chuckles, sinking his teeth into your shoulder, your head falling foreward as you’re overwhelmed with so many different feelings. The pain from the fight mixed with the pleasure from his strokes and the previous orgasm.
“Don’t- oh Fuckk. Don’t patronize me-.” You whimper, gripping the edge of the door for dear life, the smack of his pelvis to your ass loud and rhythmic.
As if you weren’t already fucked out, Wade managed to scoot riiiiight in front of you, just enough so that his cock is resting against your cheek, and god does your mouth water.
“Let’s keep you busy, huh sweetie?” Wade hums, his tip pressing against your glossy lower lip.
You’re eager to accept, letting your tongue roll around the head before taking as much of him as you can. Every slight thrust of his hips pushed him further and further down your throat, alive dripping down your chin and onto the torn, blood-stained seats below.
It doesn’t take long before you’re right back to square one, legs trembling as your labored breaths quicken in pace.
“Ohhh fuck, squeezing. You’re about to cum arent you honey?” Logan chuckles, squeezing the flesh of your hip before landing a brutal smack to your ass.
He smirks at the sight of the recoil, and doesn’t it again, each smack leaving a nice shade of red. You don’t even have a chance to warn him before you cum, the blissful feeling making you shudder, throat coated with sticky release as Wade tangles his fingers in your scalp.
What you weren’t expecting, was for your release to trickle down your thighs, each thrust only making your squelch more and more. The familiar twinge of overstimulation ravages your senses as you swallow down Wade’s release.
And unfortunately, you’re empty again, peeking over your shoulder just to see Logan finishing on the perfect curve of your back. The pearly beads of cum rolling down your ass and up your spine.
There’s a few beats of silence, paired with the laibored breathes or three violent and fucked out regenerarive assholes.
But of course, Wades specially is breaking silence.
“Hey how come you didn’t squirt for me?” He huffs in faux disappointment.
You can practically hear Logan roll his eyes, whom of which had made a point to massage where he had hit earlier.
“Please shut the fuck up.” Logan huffs, shuffling around the car to either A: find something to clean you up with or B: something for you to wear.
Either way, you're beyond fucked out, the previous tension finally dying down as you're bathed in moonlight. It takes a little effort from the two males but they successfully lean you against the middle console.
Lucky for you, there just so happened to be an extra set of clothes hidden in the trunk most likely belonging to the variant you got this stupid car from anyway.
Meh, I think missing clothes will be the least of his worries considering this piece of shit car is absolutely thrashed...
And now tainted with spit and cum-
Tag list: @awoodsysimp411 @solheartz @brucebannerswifey @oscarissac2099 @yourlocalhot-simp @of-daisies-and-dandelions @peachybaby255 @bby-pinky-pink @mimi786 @bontensbabygirl @jupiterlvr @silverloveless @saturnhas82moons @zeeader @queermaxwooo @turtlefordestiel @dumpster-hellfire @kultofkorii @mxtaurus @bumblebeebutter @buryth3hatchet @9iavolo @speedybeta @myersobsessed
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asapeveryday · 8 months ago
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The Last Time Pt1
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Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Reader
Warnings: Smut, Oral sex
Summary: You rarely go out due to how hard your classes are, but a rare outing to a Halloween party draws you to a certain blonde’s attention.
Authors note: Not my first fic, but my first time writing for Paige, or writing anything on this app!!!im nervous asf but it’s okay 😇 pls point out any spelling mistakes pls I write these at like 2am.
Minors DNI beyond the cut!!
The house was one of the massive ones off campus, white picket fences and a big kitchen perfect for partygoers to escape the loud music. Fall had turned the hot, humid and vibrant summer nights into colder ones. Streets were littered with brown and orange leaves, and houses decorated with cobwebs and blow-up ghosts.
Your friends were used to going out for Halloween parties, but you never really bothered. Your classes just got harder by the year, so you always put off a long night out. To you it was worth it, because your grades were top 3 in your program.
“When was the last time you even got laid?” Your best friend asks you.
You shrug. “I dunno. July?”
“Whatever.” She sighs, realizing it wasn’t as bad as she thought. “Still, that’s like almost 3 months of no puss. Please just come to this party, it’ll be fun!” She whines.
“Isn’t it early for a Halloween party? It’s only the 20th. We still have a week. Plus, I don’t have a costume.” You say, hoping she’ll let you stay home.
“You don’t understand, this is massive. A Halloween-birthday-party is not one that you wanna miss” She beams at you. “And I have a basketball jersey you can wear for the night. Wear shorts with it, be sexy.”
“Shorts?? It’s October!” You groan.
Regardless, you found yourself inside of this house. Your friend wasn’t lying when she said this was a pretty big party, with all the people shoving up against you it was uncomfortable to be in in your sleeveless jersey and black shorts. The kitchen was slightly less rowdy so you started to search the fridge for some comfort in the form of food or alcohol before you heard a cough behind you.
“Yo.”
You turn only to find yourself having to look up at a much taller girl. Her blonde hair was long and down on her shoulders, except for the front pieces which were Dutch-braided closer to her head. She was wearing a really casual outfit, a matching Nike tracksuit. The only thing remotely Halloween-y thing on her was the pair of fake Angel wings on her back.
“Nice costume.” You almost scoff.
“You can’t be talkin. What are you, a fangirl?” She looks down at you. Her eyes are so blue you almost stumble backwards into to fridge.
“Fair.” You sheepishly smile at her. “It was really last minute, this isn’t even my jersey.”
“That’s cus it’s mine.” The mystery blonde laughs.
Immediately you look down at yourself, a white number 5 is sprawled against the navy fabric of the women’s basketball jersey you borrowed. You look up at the blonde again and your face drops.
“Oh shit! You’re-“
“Paige.” She finishes your sentence. “Not a basketball fan?”
“Not really.” You smile. You tell her your name and she repeats it back to you with a smirk that you feel straight in your gut. You’ve rarely seen Paige on campus, so having her right in front of you has helped you realize just how fine she really is.
“The jersey looks good on you.” Her eyes sweep throughout your body.
“You don’t come off as much of an Angel to me.” You raise your eyebrow at her, referring to her half-assed costume. You haven’t heard too many rumours about Paige Bueckers sex life, but you can just tell by her silent confidence, the way she stands and even just the way she looks at you that she gets around. Being a D1 athlete probably helps too.
“You’ll see for yourself soon enough.” She shrugs, maintaining eye contact with you.
“So Paige, is this your place or..”
“Nah. My friends threw this party as a surprise for me. Not even sure who’s crib this is but whatever.” She rubs the back of her neck. “You didn’t come with a gift, did you?” Paige asks.
“No, was I supposed to?”
“It’s my birthday ma, I think you owe me something.” She steps closer, looking at you through her long eyelashes.
You actually feel your heart drop to your ass at this point, and she can tell. Paige cocks her head to the staircase nearby and you almost run after her when she leads you upstairs.
You’re already making out by the time you crash into a bedroom, she slams the door shut and pushes you up against it. You almost faint when you feel her knee between your legs, applying pressure to your clit. She kisses you slowly, taking her time to memorize the feeling of her hands grazing your face, then trailing down your body and finding themselves inside the jersey. Her blonde hair tickles your neck as she starts to trail her kisses downwards.
Paige’s hands trail from your abdomen to your hips, roughly pulling your shorts down and kneeling to be face to face with your heat. You resist the urge to cover yourself from her, and can’t help but think about how awkward you must look from this angle, but she doesn’t seem to care. Gripping your thighs and looking up at you with her ice-blue eyes, she licks a slow stripe onto your already wet undies, chuckling when you shudder.
Pulling your underwear to the side with one hand, she slowly eases her finger inside of you and you throw your head back with a breathy moan that makes her smile. She sucks at your clit while adding another finger, then pumping into you almost on beat to the music blasting downstairs. Her tongue is insane to you, circling your clit so skillfully while curling her fingers inside of you, your knees almost buckle and your hands find her long hair, pushing her head. “Oh my god.” You breathe out. “I’m close.”
“Already?” Paige chuckles into you. When she removes her fingers and quickly replaces them with her mouth, lapping and licking inside of you you almost scream. The vibrations from her voice huffing around you are enough for you to feel that tight, building feeling in your stomach, and you cum right there and then.
She cleans whatever she can before pulling up your shorts for you and kissing you chastely, enough so you can taste yourself on her lips. When she pulls away you slump to the floor, legs twitching.
“Shit!” You embarrassedly mumble. Paige laughs and sits next to you. With both of your backs to the door you turn your head to meet her stare. “Happy birthday.” You laugh. She rubs her face, hiding her smile. “Pfft, thanks.”
“I thought I was supposed to gift you? You just gave me like, the best head I’ve had since I started college.”
“Seeing you fall to the ground at my head game is enough of a gift for me.” She shrugs, a smug look on her face. “Plus, there’s always next time if you wanna make it up to me.”
The two of you exchange numbers, the situation is so unreal to you that you’re convinced this is all some mistake.
“Did you even plan on hooking up with someone tonight?” You ask her suddenly, and she seems surprised at your honesty.
“Uhh…I’m not gonna lie, not really. This party was a surprise, remember?” She sighs. “I think seeing some cute girl in my jersey, totally oblivious, jus did something to me.”
You raise your eyebrow. “You didn’t even get to see what was under it.”
“Don’t tempt me, woman.” She laughs. “I’m exhausted, giving ankle-breaking head does that to you.”
“Shut up.” You say, shoving her lightly.
There’s a pause before you take a chance and say “There’s a good burger place nearby if you want to recharge a bit.”
The minute you say it you regret it. Paige Bueckers was in no hurry to get upstairs with you, there’s no way she’s gonna take you out for food too. Plus, since when did you go out with girls you met at parties?
She looks at you for a second, considering you. Finally she says “Fuck it, why not.”
Paige gets up and you follow after her lead. She laughs at the way you walk down the stairs and the two of you slip out of the house as sneakily as possible. Paige offers to drive you even though it was your suggestion. “What can I say, I love my car.” She smiles.
The burgers are good and her laugh is contagious. The two of you sit in her car while you eat, she almost screams when you steal a fry and you pretend to be annoyed when she takes a sip of your drink in retaliation.
You feel so nervous being around her, Paige seems so sure of herself. You can tell she already knows what she wants out of college, out of basketball, even out of girls. Sometimes, even though you devoted so much time to preforming well academically, you weren’t entirely sure it was all gonna work out for you. You feared all your hard work wouldn’t be worth it in the end.
After a moment of silence, you ask her “Does it ever freak you out, having so many people betting on your success? If I were you I’d be so scared of letting people down.” You disguise your own fear as a question for her. Paige looks at you for a moment, then smiles.
“Yeah, It does. I’ve already had moments where it felt like I let everyone down.” She says, looking down at her leg. “But no success comes without pressure, so I guess feeling that way is more of a blessing from God than anything. It’s like He’s reminding me of everything I have to lose. Ion’ think there’s much wrong with that.”
You’re surprised at how mature her answer is. “There’s no way you’re talking about God after you just gave head to a stranger.” You laugh.
She shrugs, a guilty but satisfied look on her face. “You’re not human if you don’t sin once in a while.”
“Amen.” You smile.
The two of you talk about stupid things until it’s well past midnight, and when she drops you off at your dorm you turn to say “I had more fun then I thought I would tonight.”
Paige smiles, her blue eyes staring holes into yours. “It won’t be the last time you have fun with me.” She says, laughing to herself.
“Shut up.” You nudge her. She shakes her head, and waves at you when you start to walk to your building.
You turn to wave back. Even though you know you can’t be anything serious with Paige, you can’t ignore the warm feeling in your stomach when you think about the night you shared. You seriously hope it won’t be the last time.
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thatdeadaquarius · 9 months ago
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Topic: Genshin impact.
au: Sagau.
idea: So what if you had the powers of every character you played as in every game you played and then get isekaid into genshin impact with imposter au. I imagine it goes smth like
Zhongli: “I will have order!”
reader, Who played Roblox as someone who lagged the game (explanation: I’m pretty sure ping is also how time works in games. If you can control the flow of ping you can control the flow of time in games.): “ZA WARUDO!”
Heyyy!! Thanks for waiting for the reply/response from my slow ass :0
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So they did clarify what they meant/expand so imma just copy paste that here!
“k now I remember. So basically imma write it here since it’s easier: Basically you don’t have to (but you can) transform into the character that has those set of powers but if you do those powers are enhanced.”
Sun: Reader (”you”/they/them)
Orbit: Headcanons-ish, Light Imposter AU (as in, NOT Yandere/Dark), mild crossover elements bc Shapeshifter Shenanigans™️
Stars: bro idek
Comets & Meteors: Content Warnings: mild cussing, genshin typical mild violence, & Trigger Warnings: none known.
Please comment if I missed any. /gen
so fair warning,, ive never seen jojo bizarre, but i appreciate i come off well-read/watched? LMAO
so im just gonna kinda,, guess? like just cycle thru diff. random media, and im hoping both me and you reading this will have a fun time (as this is a little challenge, but i like it so ill give it a shot, dont kno if its a good one but- 😅)
so to set the scene, of how u got to this point, ykno of running like ur life (maybe?) depends on u running around different teyvat countries,
u thought it was weird everyone knew a little too much about you?? (ofc theyve heard u during gaming, they know u the same way we all know Markiplier, get it?)
then a bunch of NPCs/Vision users/Archons?? were REALLY invested in talking to you, which freaked u out even more
and by the time you saw Zhongli, yknow, just the oldest god in game, making a fast-walk towards you, ykno the retired god who didnt move an inch when an old water god attacked Liyue for a test, is now hurrying to you???
ur logically get so fucking scared sm shits abt to go down, u just start running
it isnt until ur reaching for a ledge and some webbing shoots out of ur arm (from a glitchy little spot on ur arm, where it could be coming out of ur skin, but sometimes its a blue and red bracelet)
it latched onto the nearest building, and thats how u find out u can grapple ur way, literally Spiderman style, out of the harbor
and bro, idk if it would be fun, or confusing and stressful, or maybe both?? to just find out u can use any video game power from any game youve played before as you go running from countries bc for some freaky reason they know too much abt you/are pursuing you-
dUDE- they had small statues of you in like every little section of their cities
u head to Mondstadt and as Venti comes screaming and flying at you (in excitement, but ur freaked), u go to hold a hand up and suddenly ur holding a heavy stone tablet that unleashes some holographic yellow chains that freeze him in place-?? why is this familiar-
oh my god u have the sheikah slate from Breath of the Wild,
and as ur booking it out of there, u manage to get ahold of a sword, and u know exactly how to use it to knock back favonius knights trying to stop you (they are concerned for their god who is just unleashing random powers on ppl, pls let Grandmaster Jean just talk to you Your Majesty-!!)
by the time you teleport ur way to Inazuma, (bc u still have this worlds access to ur player/traveler’s powers), ur trying to find a nice place to stay for a little bit
at least in that sweet spot of the Raiden not noticing/finding you, while things cool down on the main continent, before moving on,
and u get some tools to help fashion just a little shelter, bc u dont have any money/mora rn, and ur able to literally build a house???
a mailbox pops up and thanks you for renting with Tom Nook???? As in Animal Crossing-
and rlly if the BOTW/slate thing didnt clue u into video game powers, then this definitely would tbh lmao
right as u see Yae Miko circling ur house, with an armful of books? ..is she planning to thru them at you??, u get the hell out of dodge before her favorite god can follow along
(she knows ur prefrences in books and got authors/trends to start so youd have plenty to read, and she was making sure it was ur house before politely dropping them off! how was she to know thatd spook their favorite God, Ei?!)
u get to Sumeru and think ur safe, hiding in an abandoned forest watcher outpost (1 person treehouse rlly) when Nahida shows up in ur dreams,
and u just,
walk out of the dream, into reality, and possess a nearby ruin guard so u can sleep in peace, bc she cant access a robot,
that one baffled u as you re-possessed ur own body before realizing-
Five Nights at Freddy’s. 💀
U cant do that forever, so u try Fontaine, hoping Neuvillette/Furina wont rlly give af abt you, plus theyre the latest region, so maybe they have the least exposure to whatever the other archons didnt like abt you??
u get there and are immediately summoned to court, and right as the mekas show up to escort you, jfc they have a mecha army
(meanwhile, theyre thinking, yknow. high profile guest/our god of gods. ofc we need state of the art mekas to escort them, its only polite-)
meanwhile ur cape has now become wings, and a mask covers ur face as you glide and fly ur way over the city in an attempt to get to where u assume Snezhnaya is
it doesnt occur to you the game until ur running out of stamnia and catch ur reflection in the waters of fontaine, Sky: Children of the Light
u hope the Tsaritsa’s dislike for other gods/Celestia doesnt extend to ur otherworldly presence so ur just hoping for the best atp tbh
tbh youd forget what all powers you have, and the absolute chaos ur causing urself as u try to desperately rememeber what games youve played thru ur entire life is NOT helping to reduce confusion when u randomly wake up with elf ears (legend of zelda/botw) or get dragged into another ruin machine when u fall asleep/faint/do smth u guess mimics death lmao- (fnaf) 💀
(meanwhile the Tsaritsa does get wind ur coming this way, and just, makes the people have a parade/festival to celebrate you coming,
she did also have to get Pierro/Captaino to physically restrain some of them from going ahead to meet/escort you to the palace, she’d heard how the others scared u off, and was, ironically, hoping the warm welcome would clear things up)
well that was, something. 😃🫠
sorry lil car, that was such a fun idea idk if i did it justice!! i thought itd be too op to include every media youve consumed ever, so i kept it to video games, (which, could u cheat the system if youve played smash bros??)
i hope it was at least a decent read, and sorry im half asleep so i was not v funny this time around, but, again, hope u got smth out of it 😭
</3
on another note, im having my wisdom teeth surgery this friday, send whatever u got my way, prayers, blessings, good vibes, ill take anything im nervous 🙃
have a good week guys!
Safe Travels Lil Car,
💀♒
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If you wanna join a taglist, DM me what for! "Pspspsss, please tag me for [All SAGAU posts, Only SAGAU Language AUs, diff fandom, etc.]!"
(If you ever wanna drop, just DM me! "No more taglists/[specifically this AU/fandom] please!")
♡the beloveds♡
@karmawonders / @0rah-s / @randomnatics / @glxssynarvi / @nexylaza / @genshin-impacts-me / @wholesomey-artist / @thedevioussmirk / @the-dumber-scaramouche / @chocogi / @fallen-starr / @areaderofbooks / @devilangel657 / @esthelily / @justinsomniachild / @nanithefuck / @questionotmystopit / @chinuneko / @silvers-tongue
If ur tag doesnt work, pls check ur settings to see if ur a "searchable blog"!! Its not the same as the Ai selling data thing.
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beat-the-morning · 3 months ago
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Fair Punishment || Hozier x Reader
KINKTOBER - Day 7 (with some delay): Edging
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Tags: edging, oral (f!receiving), squirting, over-the-pants/under-the-table footjob, teasing, hickeys, dom/sub dynamics, hozier getting called “sir” (only once tho)
Summary: You tease Andrew at his family reunion for too long so he punishes you once you’re back at his house.
Word count: 2k
A/N: Sorry for the delay for day 7😭😭 but its here now so pls dont kill me. Day 8 will be posted tomorrow if the curse (tiredness) doesn’t get me first
||💙 FULL FIC UNDER CUT 💙||
Andrew had a family get together today, you had obviously come along, given that you’d been together for a bit over a year, and the fact that most of his extended family hadn’t met you yet made this a perfect excuse to bring you over and save him from the same boring questions about touring and music that seemed to plague him every time his family saw him. The get together had started well, it was at his parents house so it hadn’t been a long drive over and you’d be sleeping at his house tonight anyway so the drive back wasn’t a worry. His whole family was there, or at least his mom’s side, but you didn’t know why exactly, since it wasn’t anyone’s birthday, you didn’t think about it for too long though, they didn’t let you anyway.
The second you and Andrew arrived, quite late as it always was with him, every adult and child in the house slowly flocked over to the two of you, first his parents and his brother, who you already knew, and then the rest of the family; aunts and uncles, followed by cousins, and finally the cousins’ kids, who only wanted to talk about shows and games with you. You were bombarded by questions, how old were you? What did you study? Where did you study? Had you thought about kids? What did you work as? Where did you work? How did you meet Andrew? Was it long before you started dating? Were your parents still working or were they retired? What did they work as? Was Andrew nice to you? Did you mind that he travelled so much for work? Did you travel with him? Did you want kids? When? What about marriage? Were you living together yet? Why not? When will you have kids?
Andrew held tightly onto you through the whole interrogation, as he would call it later while driving back home, shooting glances at his aunts and uncles whenever they asked about children or marriage. Once it finished everyone sat down for dinner and started sharing family stories, first about general family things, but, much to Andrew’s dismay, those family stories slowly turned into embarrassing stories about him exclusively. He would’ve done something to change the subject had it not been for your teasing under the table. He was across from you at the table with his brother to his right and the end of the table to his left, to your left was his cousin, a woman a couples years younger than him that was six months pregnant with her second kid. There was only a window beyond the end of the table, no one outside to see, so you decided to have fun, silently, you took off your ballerina flats on your right foot, slowly extending your leg until you reached his crotch, the table wasn’t wide so it didn’t even look like you’d moved at all, you smiled as your feet moved slowly up and down, eliciting a few soft gasps from him.
Andrew looked at you across the table with a deadly glare, you smiled back at him and kept talking to his family like nothing was happening. For the next hour you slowly teased at his crotch with your foot, feeling him get harder and harder until he was fully erect from your teasing alone. No one seemed to have noticed anything unusual thanks to Andrew’s amazing acting skills, which he apparently only had when he didn’t want his family to know that his girlfriend was giving him an over-the-pants footjob under the table. Dessert was brought out and eaten before Andrew could think of an excuse to leave earlier, so you left around the same time as everyone else, you had given your bag to Andrew so he could cover himself as you left.
He endlessly chastised you for “your little game” under the table while he drove you both back to his house. “You’ll regret that once we’re at my house.” He said sternly about halfway through the ride, and you couldn’t be more excited.
Andrew stepped out of his car once it was parked in his house, running over to your side and dragging you out of your seat by your arm and into the house, you giggled the whole way into the bedroom. With one push he threw you onto the bed, taking something from a drawer and placing it on top of his nightstand before crawling on top of you on the mattress.
“Now, what do you think I’m going to do with you, you little brat?” He asked, his hands caressing your skin.
“Punish me?” You asked back with fake innocence, trying to suppress a giggle.
“Yeah, and how do you think I’ll do that?” His mouth moved to your neck, biting and sucking until he left marks all over it. “You have three guesses, if you get it right I’ll go easy on you.”
“Spanking?” You mused, moaning softly at every bite
“Wrong, two more.” He groaned, moving back to take off your shirt and bra, kissing and biting at your chest.
“Hickeys?” You guessed again, Andrew chuckled, taking off your pants and underwear and leaving you completely bare to him.
“Wrong, last try.” He stood up from the bed and grabbed a silk rope from his nightstand.
“Overstimulation?” You asked, your voice shaky with arousal
“Wrong.” He smiled, flipping you over on the bed and tying your arms behind your back, only to turn you around again.
“What is it then?”
Andrew positioned himself between your legs, holding them open so you would be on display for him. He took his phone and typed something in, smiling to himself. “I’m going to use this pretty little pussy however I want for an hour, but you won’t come a single time.” He explained, his free hand running along your wet slit. “If you do, I will restart the timer and add another half hour, understood?”
“Y-yes.” You stuttered, already feeling yourself clenching around nothing.
“Yes, what?” He pinched your clit as he asked the question.
You corrected yourself. “Yes, sir.”
“Colour?” He asked as he leaned in on your pussy, his warm breath ghosting over your folds.
“Green.”
He tapped his phone one last time, putting it next to you so you could hear the ticking of the countdown, then he dove into your pussy like a man starving, he focused his mouth solely on your entrance, focusing on drinking every drop of your juices and letting his nose stimulate your clit by itself. His tongue darted inside you, fucking you slowly and tasting you at the same time, his head moved side to side and pushed in further into you, every movement was torturously slow in the most delicious way, making you moan and whine in a futile attempt to beg for more. You felt your peak slowly building up, and so did Andrew, the knot in your stomach tightened more and more, threatening to snap, your walls fluttered around his tongue and you felt him chuckle before he pulled away, his beard damp with your juices. You whined at the absence of touch.
“You taste so good, baby, like honey.” He praised, kissing your thighs while he waited for you to come down from your high before diving in again once he deemed you were calm enough.
He repeated that same thing twice more, fucking you with his tongue and drinking you in while his nose stimulated your clit, bringing you to the edge only to pull away at the last second, your whines becoming more and more complainy and demanding as he teased.
“Time?” You asked in a whine while Andrew kissed your inner thigh again, waiting for your body to calm down again.
“Let me check,” he pulled away from you and looked at his phone, humming softly. “Only forty minutes left, pet.”
You whined loudly again, struggling against your restraints that held your arms to your back. Your whines were met with a sharp smack to your clit from Andrew, making you hiss and clench around nothing once more.
“Quit whining, this is a fair punishment after what you made me endure.” He scolded you. “Colour?”
“Green,” you breathed out, playfully pouting at Andrew.
He smiled back for a second, standing up from the bed and undressing completely. He kneeled on the bed again, turning you over and making your ass stick out while he pressed your upper body onto the mattress. “Such a pretty ass,” he said quietly, his free hand caressing one of your asscheeks. He moved his cock to your slit, lubing it with your juices before thrusting into your pussy in one swift movement. He groaned at the feeling, you yelped, being already sensitive from the previous stimulation. Slowly, he started fucking you, moaning quietly while still pressing you against the sheets.
“You feel so fuckin’ good, pet. I should fuck you like this more often.” He chuckled, speeding up his pace.
You moaned more, high-pitched and needy moans filling the room as you mindlessly pushed back against him, trying to take him deeper. His hand snaked around to your clit, toying with it and bringing you to the edge before pulling away and slowing down his hips to an idle pace. Then he did it again, pulling your upper body to his chest and kissing your shoulders while his hand played with your clit again, pulling away at just the right time so you wouldn’t be able to orgasm. He did the same thing again, tears of frustration starting to form in your eyes.
“Please…” you begged in a shaky voice.
“You know you can’t yet, baby.” He smiled into your neck, quickening his pace again and going back to playing with your swollen bud. He checked the time left. “Just fifteen more minutes, love, you can hold on for a bit more, I know you can. What’s your colour, pet?”
“Green.” You cried out softly, the tears flowing freely down your face.
“That’s my girl.” He praised softly, kissing your neck from behind.
You felt the coil in your abdomen tightening painfully again, and, as you had expected, Andrew pulled away once more. You whined loudly, struggling against the restraints again. Andrew pulled out of you, laying you on your back again and positioning himself between your legs, with one hand he moved your leg up to his chest and entered you again, his free hand moved to your face, wiping away your tears with his thumb and caressing you softly. He moved quickly again, at just the right angle to hit your g-spot just right. Your moans became louder and louder as you neared your peak, you heard a faint sound coming from Andrew’s phone, he reached over to it and turned it off, giving you his full attention.
“Time’s up, pet,” he said into your ear, kissing your neck. “Come whenever you want to, my love.”
His pace remained relentless as he fucked you, trying to reach his own peak. His hand moved to your clit again, making you hiss. The coil in your stomach got tighter, your legs trembled, and then, you came, your vision went white, your toes curled as you released all the pent up energy, your hips thrusted up and your breathing hitched for a fraction of a second. A semi-opaque white liquid shot out from you and onto Andrew, soaking him and the sheets. He smirked at the sight, emptying himself inside you right after.
“Did I..?” You mumbled, not even finishing your sentence from how exhausted you were.
“Squirt? Yeah, you did.” He chuckled. “You’ve never done that before.”
“Didn’t know I could,” you replied. “Can you untie me? I think my arms fell asleep.”
“Of course, baby.” He kissed your neck one last time before pulling out of you and making you sit up to take off the silk rope. “There you go.”
You moved your arms to your front, caressing your wrists to soothe them. You felt the tiredness calling you to sleep, Andrew cradled you in his arms, caressing your hair.
“Baby,” he called your attention. “We should take a bath, get you cleaned up, what do you think?”
You hummed softly, nodding into his chest. He chuckled again, standing up with you in his arms and taking you into the bathroom to wash up. He’d worry about the sheets later, you were his main priority.
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bamboobooshark · 4 months ago
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YOUR WADE WILSON’S HEADCANONS WERE SO GOOODDDDDD PLS DO MORE WADE STUFF OMG <33
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WADE WILSON X READER
⋆༺𓆩⚔︎ DELICIOUS : 872 WRDS
<RATING: PG-13, DESCRIPTION OF A MAKEOUT, BITING>
A/N : More Wade due to popular request! Which I didn’t expect at all because I thought I wrote him out of character BUT THE CROWD SAYS OTHERWISE (and I’m hugging the crowd so hard, thank you all deeply for the compliments)!!!! No additional warnings than the rating!
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You groan in anguish while sitting on your couch. Wade said he’d “be home in a jiffy” thirty minutes ago when you called him. Maybe you should call him again. Yeah, you’ll call him again.
The phone rings once before he picks up. He grunts while fumbling to get his phone positioned between his shoulder and cheek. “Hey, pumpkin! Did something happen? Is everything okay? What’s up,” he asks with the most excited tone, sounding absolutely thrilled just to hear your voice. You let out a huff while shaking your head. “No, nothing’s wrong. I just miss you so badly. Please come home, Wade,” you whine, pouting even if Wade can’t see it himself. He laughs at your whining as he slips his phone into his hand. “I’ll be there soon. I pinky promise, okay,” he says with a sincere tone. You exhale deeply and hum in agreement. “Okay, but you better not be lying again. If you are, you’re sleeping on the couch,” you threaten. Wade audibly gasps. “The couch? Oh, you wouldn’t dare,” he challenges with a playful tone. “I so would,” you reply. “Good thing I’m not lying then,” he says before he hangs up on you. You’re about to grab the nearest pillow and scream into it before you hear Wade open the door.
You get up from the couch and run up to him happily. “Oh my god! I missed you, you idiot,” you chuckle as your arms wrap tightly around his waist. He pretends to start choking and gasping for air. “Holy shit, baby! If I could die it’d be from your sweet self crushing my bones so hard they puncture a lung,” he jokes. You ignore his words and hug him a little bit harder just for saying that. Once you pull back and look into his eyes, he points towards something with his gaze. You look where his eyes are guiding you, and he’s holding a tube of chapstick. Your grip around him loosens and you frown with nothing but love for him. “Oh come on. You didn’t have to go out for that long just to get me some new chapstick. I told you I could’ve gotten some myself,” you insist while looking at Wade. He does nothing but give you a goofy smile in response. “But I did, sugar. I really, really did,” he assures you before kissing your nose.
“Now, how about we — sorry, you try it? I meant you. I bought this for you,” he corrects with a straight face. You shake your head because you know exactly what he intends to do. You sigh softly and take the chapstick out of his hand, watching him eye you intently while you put it on. “Holy Mary, mother of Jesus, you are just stunning,” he mutters softly. “Wade! Stop that,” you exclaim before playfully hitting his arm. He rubs his bicep as if you made him experience the worst pain ever, frowning like an abandoned puppy from your actions. He mumbles a soft sorry while letting you finish applying the chapstick.
“Oh! That’s really nice. Where’d you get this,” you ask with wide eyes. Wade simply shrugs and smiles before grabbing you with one hand on your back and one under your thigh. “C’mere you,” he grunts. He butts his forehead against yours like a cling cat, humming happily. You are completely silent aside from the heavy breaths caused by Wade’s sudden actions. “What the hell was that for,” you ask through a nervous laugh. “I don’t need to explain for that was for. Now, let me try some of your chapstick. I bought it, so it’s fair game,” he teased before leaning forward to press his lips onto yours.
He sighs against your soft skin, brows knitting together tightly. Your hands go from his shoulders to the back of his head and you ever so slightly dig into his flesh. He pulls back, eyes wide and expectant. “I think I need to get another taste,” he mumbles almost mindlessly while attempting to keep up his usual attitude. “And I’d be glad to give it to you,” you manage to huff out before tightening your legs around his waist a bit more. Wade tries his best to be as close as possible to you while holding you in his arms. He fingers dig into your thighs and the hand on your back juts to press you closer against him. He bites at your bottom lip, panting heavily. You’re quick to let him in, your tongues pressing as he tastes you. You whine into his mouth and the bastard smiles against you. As much as you want to slap him for smiling right now, you don’t blame him for feeling so giddy.
He moves cautiously over to the couch, sitting you down on his lap carefully. He unlatches himself from your lips and looks up at you with his big, brown eyes that look so pitifully pretty in the moment. You’ve never seen him so star struck during your makeout sessions. “What’s up,” you ask with a slightly concerned look on your face. His lips form the smallest smile before he whispers to you, “Nothing. You’re just so damn delicious, baby.”
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de4dlyniightshade · 1 year ago
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ilysm and ur writing omg mamas (u have no idea who I am #parasocialrelationshipcore) BUT im like A SUPER FAN ☝️😫 anyway, ma'am, i had a sudden deep and absolutely CARNAL need inside of me- and how better to solve that emptiness with your headcanons?? 😍 OKAY, so the vision was like basically how spencer would act if you like praised something about him a lot like you emphasize it sm, YK? like say u said his lips were pretty or like his style is *chef's kiss* LIKE HOW WOULD HE REACT TO THIS INFORMATION?!! DOES HE THINK ABT IT OR IS HE COCKY OR WHAT? i need this man on a scary level omfg I'm so down baddddd THE D IS FIRE! also UGH i love your headcanons like they're literally my thoughts except like they're BETTER. que yummi (sorry for allat btw I'm a yapper if u couldn't alr tell)
idk who you are but i love you. you seem so fun and sweet pls kiss me on the mouth.
also! HIS LIPS!!! YOURE SO REAL FOR THAT!!!(i have to go with his lips. they're so gorgeous.)
would probably think you're making fun of him at first bcs he doesn't get compliments often or he thinks you're just saying it to be nice so he'd just be like "thanks:]" with his silly white boy smile.
when you continue saying stuff like "i'm so jealous of your lips spencer, they're so pretty, it's not fair" he realises that you're actually serious and actually complimenting him and gets all bashful about it.
studies his lips in the mirror to see what you're seeing but just doesn't understand why you're so obsessed with them, to him they're just his lips that he's always had.
gets teased to death by derek about it, derek mocking your compliments in a high pitched voice and making kissy faces at spencer.
looks forward to your compliments every day for a little confidence boost and when you're not there for whatever reason he doesn't know what to even do with himself.
ofc you don't just compliment his lips, most of the time it is but you also tell him how good his hair looks when he gets a haircut or if you notice a new tie you make sure to mention it, the way he shyly thanks you for noticing making your whole week.
drunkenly telling him how kissable his lips are is inevitable for sure and when you do he doesn't even know how to answer you, just sitting with his mouth agape staring at you with big wide eyes and red cheeks.
when you randomly ask him if your compliments make him uncomfortable he can't answer you fast enough, immediately telling you that they don't and mumbling that he actually likes them which makes you raise your brow at him.
the knowledge that he likes your compliments only makes you do it even more, making it your mission to have him blushing and flustered at every chance you get.
loves your jokey compliments, like telling him he has a nice ass or something bcs it makes him laugh.
in conclusion, spencer is a compliment WHORE.
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captinamericashusband · 4 months ago
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Sober Thoughts | Steve Rogers/Captain America x Stark!Male!Reader
REUPLOAD A/N: Hi. It is currently 12:41 AM – another restless night unfortunately sigh. After watching a YouTube video of someone reading the infamous Harry Potter fanfiction My Immortal (I love you Ebony Dark'ness Dementia Raven Way), I became filled with unbridled inspiration to write something of my own. Anyways, enjoy! Also this is the very first fanfiction I’ve ever written. Please please please (by Sabrina Carpenter) give constructive feedback that won’t be too harsh on my little soul. This’ll be a fluffy fanfic. I'll dabble in smut later on maybe if y'all enjoy this enough...teehee. Happy BRAT summer/autumn 💚
P.S. Any errors you see will be excused by the fact English is not my first language and NOT because I suck at writing and revising ;) This fic will also be posted on Ao3 after they accept my invitation. Pls let me in Ao3.
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Sober Thoughts
Word count: 4.7k
Summary: Y/N gets very drunk in front of Steve
Warnings: Alcohol, profanity
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Being the son of Pepper Potts and the eccentric billionaire, playboy and philanthropist (in that exact order) Tony Stark came with its fair share of drawbacks. While financial security was a given for Y/N, a side that came with this coverage was endless PR events. Being the sole heir to the Stark company, Y/N was forcefully thrusted into the public eye at a very young age, constantly forced to appear at social gatherings for the general public to gain somewhat of a perception of him – hopefully for the better. Today was one of these socially exhausting days, and perhaps his least favourite event of all – the annual ‘Stark Gala: proceeds going to various charities!’ A boring name he is very well aware of, and yes the ‘proceeds going to various charities’ line was annoyingly part of the title – something he had so valiantly fought Tony on, albeit unsuccessfully. 
The gala starts in 2 hours. Currently, in stereotypical Stark fashion, Y/N lay sedentary on his bed, staring at the ceiling whilst pondering for ways to escape the tiring event. Amidst his angsty mood, a knock arose from his door followed by Tony entering his room. 
“Hey bud, no more moping around,” he said after flipping the light switch in Y/N's room, “gala’s not gonna dance itself.”
Y/N turned and laid on his belly, eyes stuffed into his pillow in an attempt to suppress the bright lights, “What if I just don’t come, dad? Just chalk my absence to a cold for the press, please. I have no will nor strength to do this.” 
“You know you can’t do that, Y/N/N. The public requests you grace them with your holy presence at the gala.”
“Dad, what if I just set fire to the venue?”
Tony scoffed at his son's comment. “Don’t bother with that sassy attitude, kid. It’ll be over in a flash. Just enjoy, grab some drinks – and hey you might even find yourself a nice date there.” He said, adjusting a frame on the wall. “My best advice is mingle until your mouth falls off – my dad used to say that to me.” 
As Tony continued slightly tidying Y/N's room, a muffled groan erupted from his pillow. Y/N knew he was very well right; there was no escaping. Resigning to his fate, he abruptly stood up from his bed and began rummaging through his closet. “Fine. I’m going because I want to go, not because you’re forcing me to.”
Tony chuckled and ruffled Y/N's hair. “That’s the spirit, champ. I promise you these things can be fun if you let them. Soak up the atmosphere. And enjoy the drinks.” He then murmured, “Just not too much, as well ‘cause…you know.” 
Tony’s sudden shift in tone was in reference to Y/N's relationship with alcohol. While Tony was notorious for being able to hold his liquor, the alcohol-tolerance gene had unfortunately not been passed down to his son. The last time Y/N drank, which had been at Clint’s birthday party, he had somehow woken up inside of a dumpster – not even exaggerating. Another time, he had taken a plane to Washington and found himself passed out on a bench outside the Pentagon – also not a hyperbole. Aware of this knowledge, Y/N planned on getting absolutely wasted in order to pass the time and to make the night somewhat memorable. 
Y/N ran a hand through his hair attempting to fix it whilst looking for proper attire. “Yes, yes I know, father figure. Do you promise it won’t be boring like last year?”
Tony feigned an offended look, putting his palm against his chest. “Boring? There was an open bar and a chocolate fountain – all appearing again this year, by the way. What more could a man ask for?”
“To not come.” Y/N said begrudgingly.
“Okay well sometimes certain things can’t be provided, sugar plum.” A grimace found itself on Y/N's face after hearing the nickname. Before he could respond, Tony was already halfway through the door. “Anyways, be ready by 8; we’re leaving at 8:30 sharp.”
------------------------------------
The night was, to say the least, already an absolute dread. Upon arriving at the upper-echelon-esque museum where the gala was being held, Y/N was already drained. After exiting the limousine that took both him and Tony to the museum, a torrent of camera flashes had blinded Y/N. Furthermore, before even entering the museum, a news reporter had shoved a microphone into his face and asked a very invasive question about his lovelife. Before Y/N could insult the reporter’s rude behaviour, Tony quickly grabbed his arm and ushered him into the museum. 
It was very well aware by the public of Y/N's choice of abstaining from dating, never really having any serious relationships. This was especially questionable for the public considering who his father was, with everyone believing Y/N would’ve followed in lieu of his behaviour during his 20’s. 
However, what the public didn’t know was that the reason for Y/N's singleness was because of one of his dad’s blonde colleagues (that wasn’t Thor). Y/N's crush for  Steve Rogers AKA Captain America had simmered for the last few months. It began during an incident in the Avenger’s Compound in which the inherent Stark idiocy had decided to bite Y/N severely in the ass.
------------------------------------
It had been late at night and Y/N had been tinkering on some project in one of Tony’s spare workshops in the compound when his phone suddenly rang. Picking it up, he saw Tony was calling him. He paused the music blaring in the workshop’s speakers before answering his dad. 
“Hey bud, I have a favour to ask.”
“What is it, father figure?” He set down a screwdriver he was holding down on the workshop table.
“First, you know I hate it when you call me that. Second, there are some files that were delivered to my office that need to be put into storage in the room beside the training area. Would you mind doing it for me?”
“And why can’t you get Happy or yourself to do it?”
“Well I am actually currently at dinner right now with your mother and we are having a blast right now, and Happy is enjoying a paid holiday in the Bahamas.” 
With an overexaggerated sigh, Y/N hung up on Tony and accepted without further question. 
Heading towards Tony’s office, he marvelled at the emptiness of the Avenger’s Compound. While he never interacted much with the Avengers, only in passing, he was aware that some of them were nightowlers. However, there really was no one. Usually, there would be at least a SHIELD agent somewhere, but tonight the building was completely desolate. 
Upon arriving at Tony’s office, Y/N immediately noticed the large boxes propped on his dad's desk. He had clearly underestimated the sizes of the office boxes, with one he (very dramatically) guesstimated being the size of his torso’s length with a width of a baby whale. Unfortunately for him, there were 5 boxes in total. Being the impatient ass he is, he had decided to carry all of the boxes in one go to spare himself having to return to Tony’s office for a second trip. He noticeably struggled and after leaving Tony’s office, he immediately regretted his decision, wishing he inherited more of his mother’s patience. From a bystander's perspective, it was a comical sight seeing Y/N Stark carrying a tower of boxes almost twice his height. 
After rounding a sharp corner – something that could’ve been easily avoided considering the size of the building’s hallways – Y/N  crashed right into another person. Y/N, along with the boxes, crashed loudly and painfully against the cement floor. 
"Shit," Y/N said out loud. The embarrassment from the predicament was too much for him, so he opted for keeping his eyes on the ground, seemingly becoming very interested in the flooring's designed patterns. He stayed in that position, wallowing in his shame until the other person he had forgotten about spoke up.
"Sorry about that, kid." A low and husky voice spoke above Y/N. Y/N moved his eyes from the floor to the other man in the hallway. He was met with piercing blue eyes and a head of light blonde hair. Great. Not only had he embarrassed himself in front of someone, but that certain someone had to be Captain America of all people. Flashing the best smile he could conjure, Y/N stood up from the floor in an attempt to save as much face as possible.
"No, no, it was all my fault Steve," Y/N chirped. Wow, he sounded like a complete wimp. Not only that, but he called Captain America by his actual legal government name. Y/N did not consider himself close enough to call Captain America Steve. The situation was further going off the rails as they both stood in an uncomfortable silence for what seemed like forever. Suddenly, Steve spoke again, breaking the suffocating air of awkwardness.     
"Need help with those." Steve said, smiling slightly at Y/N. Thinking back on it now, it was definitely the smile that got Y/N hooked into Steve. With a curt nod, both of the men started cleaning the mess of files. "Do these need to be in a specific order?" Steve questioned. Quite frankly, Y/N did not care for the files' order; he was much more preoccupied with the strange feeling down in his stomach. He slapped himself internally before answering Steve.
"I'm not sure actually. The person reading these can decipher that themself." Steve chuckled at his words. An actual, genuine laugh. Y/N found whatever he said to not be as funny Steve was making it out to be. But nevertheless, good job Y/N! You made Captain America laugh at something you said! After tidying the files, the two of them started walking, Y/N in the lead with Steve following in his stead. 
"Where to, Stark Jr.?"  
"The storage room by the training grounds."
The walk to the files' designated area was filled with silence – not uncomfortable like before, but instead a somewhat pleasant quiet. Deciding to be bold, Y/N asked Steve a question.
"What do you do all day?" Wow, Y/N didn't intend on that sounding as rude as it did. 
"What do you mean?" Steve responded.
"Like, what do you do when there isn't a mission where you have to save the world or anything." Great save, Y/N said to himself.
"Well, if there isn't a mission I usually train in the gym – nothing bad in doing some extra training. Other than that, I usually visit SHIELD's headquarters to do business that I'm sure you're not interested in hearing about." He turned and smiled at Y/N after saying the last part. The strange feeling was there again.
"That honestly sounds like a miserable existence."  Y/N said. Steve laughed and Y/N smiled, proud of himself for making Captain America laugh a second time this night. "Do you have any actual free time at all?"
"The only time we get to ourselves are weekends. I typically go for jogs in the morning then catch up on any work I didn't get to finish from the weekday. By the time I finish, it's already pretty late at night." As Steve continued to talk, Y/N couldn't help but sneak glances at him. Y/N had noticed a smile was etched on Steve's face and he wondered if it was because Steve enjoyed his company or if he was merely entertained by their topic of conversation. "If I have any time to spare, I like to draw. I've started taking painting classes recently."  
Y/N debated on whether or not to make a joke about Steve's work and him not "finishing" fast enough, but thought it was too weird even for him. "Wow, even on your day off your life sounds bland – aside from the drawing part I guess." Steve had laughed once more at what Y/N said, and Y/N silently applauded himself once again.   
Steve's smile persisted despite Y/N's slight insult to his daily life. "My turn to ask. What do you do all day? I never see you around that much." 
"That's 'cause I'm usually cooped up in a lab somewhere doing tech stuff I'm sure you're not interested in hearing about." Steve chuckled again. "If I'm not doing techy stuff, then I'm usually doing boring paperwork for Stark industries. And if I'm not doing that, I'm sleeping peacefully in my bed."
"Now I'm offended by you calling my life bland when yours’ is equally as boring, Y/N," Steve joked.
"It'd be more exciting if you were in it." Oh Y/N, what exactly are you saying now? Suddenly, the signature Stark flirtiness accumulated within Y/N as the next words left his lips. "You should join me on my bed sometime." Oh sweet Jesus. Even Y/N himself shriveled from pure disgust at what he just said. It wasn't even a remotely good pickup line. He fully expected Steve to bolt away as soon as possible and leave him behind with the behemoth-sized boxes.   
Before Steve could respond, the pair found themselves in front of the storage room. Steve opened the door for Y/N who could only mumble a quiet thanks in response as he was still shaken up from his earlier misspeaking. Finding a secluded table in the room, Y/N set down the boxes with Steve following in suit. The two then exited the room and found themselves in yet again another uncomfortable silence. Before Y/N could hurriedly escape, Steve spoke.  
"You should get out of your lab more. I'd like to see more of you around if that's possible." Upon hearing that, the feeling from earlier was present again in Y/N's stomach except it had been exponentially stronger this time. "I enjoyed talking with you, Y/N."  
It was as if Y/N had lost any inkling of social awareness as he said his next remark. "You'd practically have to pry me off a workbench with those big arms of yours, Steve."  
Steve only laughed in response, clearly somewhat amused by Y/N's bold eccentricity. "I'll see you around, Y/N." Steve started walking away before suddenly turning around with a smirk on his mouth. "Oh, and I'll take you up on that earlier offer." 
------------------------------------
Ironically enough, Y/N and Steve have yet to converse with each other again after their brief encounter. This was mainly due to Y/N avoiding Steve after having said his embarrassing comments – especially about Steve's arms, something Y/N can't help but gag at upon reflection. Looking back at their moment together, Y/N can only sigh and hope the super soldier forgot about his humiliating behaviour. 
Looking around the museum, Y/N stared in awe at the inside's appearance. The building itself had replicated the architecture and grandeur of Ancient Greece, with large columns on the building's interior and exterior. While the building itself was an architectural beauty, what really stood out were the floral decorations garnered around the room, both on the tables surrounding the middle of the museum designated as a dance floor and hanging in between the interior pillars. Y/N had to remind himself to find his mother later, who arrived hours earlier to help decorate, and commend her keen taste in floral arrangements. 
Y/N's moment taking in the interior decor was interrupted when he was approached by Tony and a stubby man wearing a suit. Tony introduced the man to Y/N who turned out to be one of Stark Industries' business partners. Nothing notable was said in their conversation aside from numbers and Y/N's vision for the future of Stark Industries. This was how the first half of the night went: Tony introduced Y/N to one of his business partners, boring conversations about logistics would ensue, Y/N was asked about his ideas on Stark Industries' future – rinse and repeat. After numerous runs of this seemingly perpetual cycle, Y/N's social battery had been absolutely drained and Operation Get-Drunk-And-Pass-Out was set in motion. Excusing himself from Tony's presence, Y/N ran a beeline towards the bar, his stride swift with determination to get his hands on anything alcoholic.
Taking a seat at the bar, Y/N began thinking about what he would drink. Suddenly forgetting every alcoholic beverage that ever existed, he waved down the bartender to get his first drink of the night. "I'd like whatever will get me the most piss-faced, please." The bartender simply gave him a cordial smile and nod before pouring a single clear liquid into a small shot glass. He then gave Y/N the glass who before drinking said, "bottoms up." The mystery liquid was absolutely repulsive and scorched Y/N's throat. His face puckered up in pain, eyes shut as tears formed at the brim of his ducts. "Jesus, dude, what is this!?"
"Everclear." The man answered with a very thick Russian accent. Y/N had no idea what that was nor was aware of its very high alcoholic percentage, almost being pure alcohol.  What he did know was the vile taste and painful burn signified it was able to get him 100% wasted. 
"I'll take 10 more of those, please."
------------------------------------
At shot four, Y/N's vision had started getting blurry, his lips and skin felt tingly, and he kept laughing at the most nonsensical things to laugh at. His drunkenness was made very apparent for everyone at the bar when he pointed towards someone's poorly trimmed goatee and laughed maniacally at it. While his actions had been in poor-taste and he was making a grand fool of himself, Y/N could care less as he revelled with his newly acquainted friend, Everclear. 
Before downing shot number five, a man had approached and sat beside Y/N and began ordering. To his surprise, Captain America in the flesh had situated himself beside him at the bar. Knowing Y/N's already embarrassing encounter with him sober, only God knows what was about to ensue between the two of them while he was intoxicated. 
“Enjoying the night, Mr. America?” Y/N slurred. 
“Clearly not as much as you, Y/N.” Steve responded. He was currently sporting a classic black and white tux with a dark blue tie. His attire, while as basic and stereotypical as they come for a formal event, suited him perfectly. Being the idiot Y/N was while drunk, the spike of confidence that surged within him caused him to comment on Steve's appearance.
Y/N leaned towards Steve, getting very close in his personal space, then saying, “apologies, Captain, but you sure do look ravishing if I do say so myself. I’m proud to be an American.” Y/N giggled at himself while Steve looked at him with an amused expression. 
“If I didn’t know any better I’d say you’re flirting with me, Y/N.” Steve said, flashing his captivating smile. Y/N stared at him with dazed eyes before leaning back and downing his fifth shot of liquid courage.
"Maybe I am flirting with you, Steve. That's what I was doing last time we talked in case you didn't realize."
"Yes, you were quite subtle the last time we spoke." He said sarcastically. He took a sip of whatever he ordered from the bar before continuing. "Speaking of, I've been meaning to talk to you ever since that night, but I could never get a hold of you."
Y/N laughed, not knowing if Steve actually knew why he hasn't seen him since or if he really was oblivious. "Well, Steve, I was avoiding you because I made a fool of myself the last time we talked." A hiccup came out of Y/N's throat. "And then I said to myself, 'Steve probably thinks I'm weird so I'll avoid him to prevent any further embarrassment'." 
"Well, I really did enjoy our conversation last time, Y/N. I mean it."
Similar to their last encounter, a wave of deafening silence consumed the pair's conversation, the awkward tension causing Y/N to become slightly sober. Fortunately for him, the alcohol was still very much prevalent in his bloodstream, giving him enough confidence to break the awkward silence.
"Sometimes I wish I could just run away – leave this life behind and escape to some deserted island.” Y/N glanced towards Steve who was already looking at him. "It's too much at times – this life."
"It would be easier if you had someone with you for the journey."
Y/N looked at him, feigning an incredulous look. "Are you implying with your word choice, manner of speaking and overall cadence that you want to be that person for me?" Y/N laughed, scoffed was more like it. "I'd say you're the person flirting with me, Steve."
Steve chuckled softly, his eyes never leaving Y/N. "Maybe I am, Y/N."
Y/N could only stare at him as his heart skipped a beat. Perhaps it was the alcohol messing with his senses and disposition, but his usual wit was gone and he was speechless – a rare moment for Starks. Noticing his hesitation, Steve leaned in slightly, lowering his voice to a near whisper.
"Y/N, you don't have to go through this life alone. I've seen through your father how hard it can be for someone in your position. But you don't have to bear it all by yourself."
"Do you really mean that, Steve? Or are you just saying all this because I'm drunk and pathetic." Y/N's voice wavered, the confidence he had during their last encounter was noticeably absent.
Steve reached out, placing a hand on Y/N's shoulder. "I've noticed you, Y/N. Even though we haven't talked much, I can already tell you're a special person. You're more than just Tony Stark's kid. There's something unique about you. And I want to get to know you more."
The butterflies Y/N felt during their last encounter returned and did pirouettes in his stomach. "I don't know what to say, Steve."
"You don't have to say anything right now. Just know I'll be here and I won't be leaving anytime soon."
Y/N looked at Steve, a whirlwind of emotions torpedoing inside of him. For the first time in a long time, he didn't feel so alone. The confidence suddenly returned and a smile braced itself on Y/N's face. "Are you technically asking me out?"
Steve only laughed in response before standing up and saying, "I can take you home now if you want."
Y/N quickly stood up. "Oh yes please, Steve. Another minute in here and I think I'll have an aneurysm." As the two started walking, a sudden wave of a burdening reminder of his father's presence washed over Y/N. "Wait, I can't leave – dad said I-." 
Before Y/N could finish, Steve quickly interrupted him. "I think everyone here, including Tony, can see you're in no condition to be here any longer." 
Y/N could only nod, too exhausted to protest. As they exited the building Y/N's head grew heavy, and it gently fell onto Steve’s shoulder. Steve tensed for a moment, then relaxed as his arm slowly wrapped around Y/N’s waist, pulling him closer. “Take me home, Steve,” Y/N mumbled softly against his shoulder, his breath warm against Steve’s neck.
"That's what I'm doing right now, Y/N." Steve said softly.
------------------------------------
After exiting the building, Steve hailed one of the idle limousines across the museum. He had to carefully slide in Y/N's body before sliding in beside him.
The ride back to the Avenger's Compound was quiet and tranquil, a stark contrast to the hustle and bustle of the earlier evening. Steve glanced at his watch - it said 3:33 AM - then turned his gaze towards Y/N's sleeping body leaning against the car window. A small dribble of saliva was escaping the corners of his mouth, and Steve quietly chuckled.
"I can feel you looking at me. Cut it out." 
"Unfortunately, I can't seem to stop my eyes from lingering on things I find beautiful." Y/N could only blush at Steve's unexpectedly sappy words, unaware the super soldier had it in him to be a corny romantic.
"You're no better than any other man, Steve Rogers," Y/N teased, though his voice was softer than before. Steve smiled, but was interrupted by a loud yawn erupting from his mouth. Abruptly, Y/N sat up straight from his slouched position, suddenly remembering something in his drunken haze. "You know, you still have yet to cash in on my offer, Steve."
"You mean your offer to be in bed with you?" Steve asked, his tone in between amusement and curiosity.
Y/N eagerly nodded. "I wouldn't mind if that happened tonight."
Steve's head turned at a concerning speed that definitely would've given a normal person severe whiplash. He gave Y/N a stern yet somber look, one that carried warmth with a reprimanding undertone behind it. "I'm not going to sleep with you, Y/N. I mean, you're drunk and that would be me taking advantage of you – I'd like to think you expect better from me."
Y/N blinked, looking both very offended and embarrassed. "That is absolutely not what I meant, Steve, you naughty man!" He crossed his arms and sunk into the limo's soft leather seats. "I meant that it would be nice if we just laid and went to sleep together...I just don't want to be alone tonight."
Steve's expression softened immediately, understanding the vulnerability behind Y/N's words. Their eyes met, a silent agreement shared between them, filling the rest of the ride with warmth from their comforting connection. 
As the car grew quiet again, Y/N, emboldened by the last remnants of alcohol in his system, threw one more cheeky remark towards Steve. "But you would have sex with me, right?" 
Steve laughed, his head shaking, but the tenderness in his smile spoke volumes. "Get some rest, Y/N. We'll talk in the morning."
------------------------------------
Y/N stirred awake in his bed, his eyes wincing as the harsh rays pierced through a gap between his bedroom curtains. His head pounded, and a wave of nausea met him immediately. Unable to fight it, Y/N ran to his bathroom, purging the contents of last night's festivities in his toilet. It was quite a horrid sight. 
After what seemed like hours, Y/N exited from his bathroom, wanting to get more sleep. Stumbling back to his bed, he noticed the large body-shaped mound from underneath his blankets. Frightened, he approached it cautiously, scared of the idea of having drunkenly slept with a stranger. 
Slowly uncovering the body, Y/N was met with the peaceful sight of a sleeping Captain America. Steve's chest rose and fell steadily, lips parted as he took even breaths. Then, the events of the previous night came rushing back to him like a semi-good dream and Y/N mentally facepalmed himself. However, while he internally scolded himself for his embarrassing behaviour, he also congratulated himself for having been somewhat successful in his endeavours of pursuing Steve. 
Laying back down gingerly beside Steve, Y/N grabbed his phone from the nightstand. The time was 11:11 AM and Y/N silently made a wish to himself. He noticed he had received 10 missed calls and nearly 50+ messages from his dad. Thinking it was regarding his early leave from the gala, Y/N decided to deal with his father later, still exhausted from the night before. Opening Twitter (he refused to call it 'X'), Y/N's eyebrows furrowed as he saw his name trending alongside 'Steve Rogers' and 'Captain America.' A knot formed in his stomach and he decided to Google his name. The urge to puke suddenly returned as he was met with a news article reading:
‘Hottest New Couple in NYC?! – Captain America & Y/N Stark Seen  Seen Getting Cozy During Annual Stark Gala’  
Below the headline was a picture snapped of Steve and Y/N at the bar, Steve leaning closely towards Y/N as both shared very flirtatious smiles towards each other. Y/N groaned loudly, causing Steve to stir awake. Today was going to be PR hell.
FIN
A/N: This actually took multiple days to write and while rereading it it's actually really corny? But, fanfic writing is actually kind of fun, I might do it more. Anyways, hope you enjoyed :) Also sorry for any mistakes I'm too lazy to revise
128 notes · View notes
inerizaki · 6 months ago
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I'll eat your pa- what!?
Your boyfriends get caught by you.
First fic guys pls be nice 🤓.
Threesome, sakuatsu x reader, nsfw, panty stealing (?), cum eating, spit, Dom reader, subby sakuatsu, handjob, begging
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It has been 2 weeks. 2 weeks going to sleep alone. 2 weeks of annoyed excuses from your boyfriends.
Today would be no different...
"Baby we're just tired..." Atsumu sighed, and Kiyoomi wasn't even opening his mouth, going through his routine in silence. You swore you felt a vein pop on your forehead.
"Yeah? Poor you. How tired?"
Atsumu sighs, not having the energy to put you with your anger right now.
"Very, why are you being --" his sentence cuts off short as he sees the garment hanging off your fingertips. Even kiyoomi who had been intent on not interacting to save his strength, had spotted it and was gulping heavily.
"Tired enough to spoil my panties?" Several things ran through Atsumu's mind at a breakneck speed, none of them helpful as he felt the most embarrassing blush up his face. "Hey... Um... I can explain" atsumu starts.
Your face was deadpanned. If people thought kiyoomi was the resting bitch face in your relationship, they didn't look at you well enough.
"they were my favourite pair you know" you pout and flop on the armchair in your living room. *Shit* *fuck* he should have known. You were the last person to get mad at them for their ungodly practices. You had your practices. You were also an athlete. There was no way this would have pissed you off, he should have known better.
As he thinks about his last words, he notices how sweaty you are. You must have just finished your practice too... Your bangs were sticking to your forehead, your legs manspreading and the prettiest flush on your face. *THIS ISN'T HELPING* he told his brain.
Kiyoomi had completely abandoned his daily ritual of setting his kitbag neatly in its place, instead, he was standing behind Atsumu, trying to hide. As if his 6'4 self would be able to. He looked sheepish behind his mask and you knew already. "Ye-yes babe wait...It was just.. you were so tired and ... We didn't -" your eyebrow raises, "me .. tired..." You slowly repeat what he said, and lord, Atsumu knew he was so fucked.
He knew the only way to ask for your forgiveness was to beg for it. So with his thighs still sore from practice, he sits in front of you, on his heels. He hears Kiyoomi behind him and immediately knows he's following suit, his mask dangling off of one ear.
They weren't looking up at you as much, being as tall as they were, but it was enough. Kiyoomi's pale face was also flushed as he was avoiding your gaze. You were sitting on the armchair, legs still spread and arms crossed as you regarded them. Omi had the insane thought that *the yakuza should be glad she never wants anything to do with violence*.
"so?" You ask them, eyes levelled as they look down on both Atsumu and Omi. Atsumu gulps again, his voice cracking as he starts, "Baby it's just... You had finally.. just got a break after a while and it didn't seem fair..." You scoff, "Spare me that bullshit, either it was a kink you didn't tell me about or you just didn't want to deal with me. Which one is it?" This time your question was aimed at Omi, who was shifting his feet.
Omi knew it was useless lying to you, you already saw through the whole act anyway, but still... For his dignity... "It's not like that it just happened -" he sees the beginning of a snarl form...
When Omi doesn't say anything, you sigh, "I can't believe you tried lying to my face." He looks at you through his lashes again and looks back down, the red getting deeper."I'm upset you know." When Atsumu hears those words he starts to crawl to you on his hands and knees, "Hey don't be like-" he gets stopped in his tracks with the balls of your foot on his forehead. Atsumu gulps, it was an uncomfortable position to be in, not to mention he could see your skirt lift, and he made every effort possible not to look.
You laugh coldly, "WOW, even after the stunt you just pulled you're still thinking about my panties? That's kinda pathetic Tsum." He felt the knot in his chest unwind a little at the use of his nickname coming back but he wouldn't be off the hook so soon.
Omi, on the other hand, had been looking at you both from the corner of his eye... He could see Atsumu's tent in his shorts.. and felt the mortifying realization that he was getting one too."I'll let you look if you ask real nice mmkay?" You tell Atsumu with faux sympathy dripping from your voice. He closes his eyes, takes a few breaths and says... "Please.. baby can I look?" That earns a catlike smile from you. "See wasn't that hard was it?" You shift your foot from the centre of his forehead to place your heel there instead, giving him plenty of space to stare. You turn to Omi now, watching his breathing get shallow and eyes get heavy-lidded.
"nothing to say, Omi?" You purr, but the expression on your face is as stoic as ever. "What would you like me to say?" He asks as levelled as he can, his breath betraying him at every word. Atsumu, clearly not having had enough of your attention, whines. "H-hey cmon.." you turn to look at him, his eyes defiantly looking up at you.
"Stop... Pay attention to me" he pouts. Fucking pouts. "You just had your turn being humiliated and yer asking for more?" You ask dryly. He nods his head, the heel still on his forehead bobbing up and down. You let out a breath of *fine* and travel your foot down until he reaches the growing tent in his shorts and you apply the slightest pressure.
You see him open his mouth in a silent gasp and throw his head back. You turn back to Omi, "Now what was I saying?" Omi looks back at you, clearly dazed, but manages to say "You were saying why you were upset with us". You click your tongue, "Ah right, see I am not even *that* mad about you both doing this, rather I'm mad about the fact that I've been lonely for 2 weeks and the one time you could have involved me, you didn't."
Omi nods, like a schoolboy taking a scolding. "I understand" he gasps out, but it wasn't enough to satisfy you. "And you also chose my favourite panties, care to explain why?" He thinks.. one more try couldn't hurt right? "We just.. took the first one on the pile" another twitch of your upper lip. "No ... You chose them because they had the most slick on them.. don't lie again. Am I not right?" *Fuck* there goes that.
You apply more pressure on Atsumu, and he gasps out, "Mhmm you're right fuck you're right". Your head tilts to the side, and Omi admits "Ye-yes.. it was because they had... The slickest..." He choked out the words. How the fuck did he end up here. "say it kiyoomi" Omi takes a deep breath steeling himself, "Yes, you're right we took those because .. you wear them often and they have the most... Slick on them" he breathes out.
Your cheek's resting against your curled up palm and you tap the finger of your other on your thigh. "You know what is even slicker?" You felt Atsumu's breath hitch, and another shot of shame blow through Omi. "What has...?" You roll your eyes. "Me you idiot. And maybe if you had thought things through I would have been nice" you eye Atsumu.
Now Omi not only had to deal with him LIKING being treated like this, he also had to deal with him being JEALOUS over Atsumu being treated worse but still being jealous ." are you that upset...?" Omi tests the waters, using his best pleading voice and puppy face, all of it shot down by you grumbling, "I'm not even going to answer that right now" your arms crossing across your chest.
Omi's heart drops as he hears your response. He didn't think it would get this far, to be honest, he hadn't been thinking at all. He also starts to crawl towards you, and you let him, much to Atsumu's disbelief. You press down on him a bit harder before he can argue. Omi makes it to your thigh, his chin resting on it as he looks up at you through his coal lashes and says in the prettiest voice "I'm sorry bunny... I didn't mean to upset you I wasn't thinking, Please forgive me?" He swore he could see your eyes darken.
You tilt your gaze towards Atsumu, your face not moving. To his credit he immediately gets the hint and whines "Yeah I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done that I'm sorry I neglected you like that please forgive me?" You remove your foot on top of his hard dick and he almost stumbles forward crawling to you, placing his chin on your knee just like Omi. They look like a pair of puppies, pathetic and cute.
"you'd think just because I'm tired, which I wasn't by the way.. you didn't ask, I wouldn't help you" They could sense the genuine hurt on your face now, and sink their chins even deeper, looking up at you apologetically. "no... You would have" Atsumu says, his gaze running from yours. You were cruel, but you didn't have the heart to be cruel to both of your boyfriends kneeling in front of you.
You sigh and motion them upwards, and they quickly take the chance to nuzzle into your neck, still whispering favoured apologies and words of devotion, all of them muddling to kisses and hickeys. Barely able to breathe between them, you pull them closer through the waistbands of their shorts. They know better than to protest and let you manoeuvre them until they're looking down on you. Their palms are on the top of the armchair's back, holding on to support as they feel their calves burn from the position.
You palm their bulges, and immediately they shudder. "Pull shit like this again and I'll lock you both in chastity cages" you snarl up at them. Their eyes widen at the threat, feeling even more blood rush to their dicks. "Are ya serious?" Atsumu asks his abs relaxing and contract. You raise an eyebrow, "You tryna find out pretty boy?" Both of them shake their heads vigorously.
You decide to show them mercy, freeing their dicks from their shorts and starting to pump them after you spit on them. They lean into you, groaning and whining. Atsumu has always been a blabber in bed, but it was a pleasant surprise to see Kiyoomi moan and whine. You wished you could record them and avoid you could have it in repeat for days.
"You both beg so pretty," you tell them and they *preen*, back arching to you. The most pathetic whines and begs, you didn't expect them to be this wound up after yesterday's stunt. They start getting more high-pitched pitched and before you can prepare yourself, ropes of white paint your face and neck, making you scrunch your face.
Atsumu has his face against the back of the armchair, Omi swaying back and forth, his entire body the prettiest of flushes. "you're both too spent to clean me up?" You ask while licking your upper lip. Immediately rejuvenated, Atsumu is the first to throw his arms around you and start licking your face and neck, anything to make you forgive them, anything you say.
Omi is slower but more thorough, he has your face in a firm grip as he laps up all the cum off your face, kissing and dragging his lips across your neck. The saltiness of your sweat was mixed with their cum and Omi couldn't get enough.
"I can't believe you tried to act all aloof in front of me.. as if that would work when I know what you looked like licking the sweat off my face... Hmm Omi chan?" You teased and he couldn't even complain, he was just glad to not be the subject of your cold gaze.
When they're both done, they look up at you, their faces back on your lap. You swore you could feel their invisible tail wagging behind them. You wipe off the spit across your cheek and say, "Well then .. if you're not too tired. you could help me clean up the slick on these panties?" You coyly lift your skirt. And who would they be to deny you of such a request?
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bbunivxrse · 1 year ago
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❥ HATED HIM - SATORU GOJO
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pairing: - gojo x f!reader contents: you hate gojo, but even so, youre forced to go on a mission with him, which ends badly. for you, anyway. - no warnings js fluff at the end but a bit ooc?? i think??? word count: 1.9k a/n: hi!! ik im late but happy new years!! i wanted to post earlier but i have no idea what to write :sob: if u have any requests pls send i need ideas
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you’ve always hated Satoru Gojo. the day you met him you knew you’d never want to be around him. his persistent grossly inflated ego and cocky attitude always had your gears grinding. the way he seemed to somehow develop a crush on you despite you never saying a single kind or loving word to him is beyond you. he has no shame in trying to flirt with the girl that not only has no interest in him, but also openly hates him. no matter how many people are around he’ll always go out of his way to bother you. everytime you hear him speak you think about how fucking lucky he is to be the strongest, if he wasn’t you would’ve taken care of him and his attitude already. 
you weren’t shy to make this opinion known, even straight to his face. all your classmates seemed to understand and even agree, everyone except for gojo of course, who always persisted that he is the ‘best person ever’ and that ‘nobody can hate him’. your friend utahime seemed to really enjoy listening to your long, harsh rants about him, reminding you that your not alone in your detest for gojo. 
Today you had what seemed to be a start to a good morning, until you were informed you had a mission to attend to the very next day. that news alone obviously wasn’t enough to ruin your mood, you had missions all the time, it was normal. this mission however was not only a special grade curse, but it was also assigned to just you and gojo. 
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“man, that sucks..” shoko sighs, patting your shoulder. after explaining and ranting about your situation you felt a bit better, but still didn’t change the fact that you’d be out overnight, possibly for two nights, alone on a mission with gojo. you groan in frustration just at the thought. “don’t you ever think you’re being a bit hard on him, y/n?” his best friend piped up. he just happened to be passing by and eavesdropping on your conversation. “well of course you’d defend him.” you roll your eyes as suguru laughs. 
to be completely fair, maybe you were a bit harsh when it came to gojo. but that didn’t matter to you when all he does is put his face in your business 24/7, attempting to flirt while simultaneously pushing your buttons whenever he gets the chance and only laying off when you get annoyed enough to actually scare him away. “i wouldn’t have to hate him so much if he wasn’t so annoying.” you shrug, feeling completely justified in every word you’ve said. suguru nods understandingly as he considers your words. he does know that gojo can most certainly be a handful.
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the day of the mission arrives and you’re up early, getting ready and packing your bag to set out on the mission. with your extra time you decide to keep yourself calm by reading a book you’ve had on your to-read list for waaayyy too long. it was nice until you realized gojo was late, then you were back in your grumpy mood waiting on him. “hi y/n!! are you ready for our honeymoon together??” gojo waves enthusiastically, his loud voice was already starting to irritate you, along with him unapologetically showing up an hour after the established meeting time. “you’re late.” 
“i had stuff to do.” gojo frowned, but you know all too well he had absolutely nothing to do. the day is gonna be too long to keep arguing with him, so you decide to be the bigger person for once and begin to make your way to your next destination without saying a word to him. “wooow! you’re not even gonna say anything to me?? i’m so hurt!!” gojo whines behind you, already managing to piss you off at the beginning of your mission.
the place you were headed to was a building that was rumored to be haunted. supposedly it had been involved in a lot of accidents in the area. people last being seen near the house before going missing, car accidents in the area, reported “weird activity” inside the house. it was enough to have the curse inside deemed a special grade, which meant the two of you needed to focus on this mission and you know gojo isn’t gonna do that.
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after a long ass train ride that felt like it was gonna go on forever because of gojos endless talking, the two of you made it to the house. it was much older than all other houses on the street and was visibly abandoned and overgrown. the immense amount of cursed energy coming from inside was a bit intimidating, even for you, and made you a bit tense, which did not go unnoticed. “you really scared of some little house?” gojo teased, which took you out of your train of thought. “obviously i’m not scared. i’ve dealt with worse.” you lied through your teeth. of course you’re not gonna reveal that you’re actually trembling in your boots.
“that things no match for me! since you’re soooo scared, why don’t you sit this one out and let me take care of it, princess? i'd hate to see your pretty face get hurt,” truth is, gojo can tell just as well as you can that this curse was no joke. he knows you’re powerful and could probably handle something like this on your own but he doesn’t wanna risk it. seeing you get messed up by a curse while he’s there to protect you, he’d never forgive himself! “no thanks.” you reply dryly, walking up to the house and heading inside. 
the presence of the curse inhabiting that house was just as, if not even more intense than it was from the outside and honestly unlike anything you’d dealt with at that point, which is probably why it was able to catch you off guard. you hadn’t even been able to get a glimpse of it before it had you on the floor, across the room and unconscious. 
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waking up, it felt like you had been asleep for decades. at first you were happy to be in your bed, until you realized it wasn’t your bed. your head hurt like hell, it felt like your brain was too big for your skull and wanted to break free. the lights in the room blaring in your eyes didn’t help. you tried to sit up, suddenly feeling waves of pain along your weakened body. when you were able to sit up, the one person you were hoping not to see was looking out the window and had been alerted by the sound of bedsheets shuffling.
“hi y/n!!!” he yells excitedly, getting up and bringing his chair to sit beside you. “i totally saved your ass! that cursed fucked you up bad!” gojo laughs at you. under normal circumstances you wouldn’t be amused by his antics, but especially now it was even more upsetting. for one, you were embarrassed. the man you hate most watched you get absolutely folded by some random ass curse. and on top of that he had to save you and bring you back afterwards. the realization made your blood run cold and you couldn’t even be bothered to look him in the eyes. you hear him lightly sigh in response to your silence.
The switch in his demeanor was sudden when he can visually see on your face how hurt you are, physically and emotionally. “i know your head probably hurts. i got you some advil.” you finally look up at gojo, before looking down at the bedside table to see a little bottle of advil and a glass of water. “the water had ice in it but.. it melted.” as you graciously take the advil and gulp down the water like you hadn’t drank for days, you think about the amount of time that must’ve passed, evident by the pinkish hue of the sky and the bright orange sunlight shining through the window and onto the floor. 
after finishing the glass of water and setting it down you sat in silence, your lightly bandaged arms lying in from of you. you decide to appreciate the silence, as normally gojo would be laughing and teasing to no end. and after a catastrophic mission like this? being knocked cold out for hours? you thought you wouldn’t hear the end of it from him, but surprisingly you hadn’t heard a word. “is the advil working?”
“it hasn’t even been 10 minutes.” you hiss at him, instantly missing the peace and quiet. you take a quick look at gojo, noticing the unusual darkness of his bright blue eyes and the way his hair is somehow messier than it usually is. he almost looks like he’s been through war even though you know that isn’t the case. he probably made light work out of that damn curse. “remember what i said..? about not forgiving myself if i couldnt protect you?”
"you did not say that." you actually look up at him but his gaze is focused on the floor in front of him. “i know you hate me and all but.. i really care for you, y’know? you had me kinda worried.” he somewhat laughs to himself but not the same way he usually does.
“sorry.” is all you can whisper out. “thank you for saving me, though.” as much as you want to be nice to him for saving your life, the way his demeanor changes when your gratefulness strokes his ego makes you regret it. “yeah, i know. i’m awesome. don’t i deserve a reward?” gojos eyes light up again, continuously making you regret being kind to him for once. but at the same time, considering his sweeter words to you, you’ll humor him. “what kinda reward?” you roll your eyes playfully. “hmmmm… i think i deserveee….” gojo pretends to think hard, putting his hand to his chin. “a kiss!!” the slight smile on your face instantly melts, which in turn causes gojo to start pouting and whining like a child. “don’t look at me like that! i saved your life and patched you up and all i’m asking for is a kiss!!”
“i don’t want to kiss you.” gojos jaw drops as he genuinely looks shocked by your blatant statement. “what!? how could you not want to kiss me?! you owe me your life!!” all you can do is sigh and cross your arms, which leads gojo to using a different avenue to convince you. “pleeeaseee baby? one kiss won’t hurt…” the look he gave you can only be described as the same one a sad kitten would give you when they want you to give them food. his face almost makes you feel bad for your mean words since he looks like he’ll genuinely cry if you don’t agree to kiss him. “fine. one kiss. hurry up.” gojos face lights up in a way you’ve never seen before, a big smile across his face as he practically lounges onto the bed beside you. he swiftly places a hand around your waist while the other picks up your legs and places them on his lap. “can you slow down! i said one kiss. not whatever this is.” 
“it will be one kiss! or maybe two? i don’t care, i’ve been waiting for this!” before you can say a word, he already has his lips on yours. you couldn’t deny that he was a good kisser. suddenly everything and everyone melted away and it was just the two of you, your hands on his chest and his around your waist. you kinda wanted it to stay like this, in a weird twisted way you never thought you’d feel with a man like gojo.
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i think this would make the perfect prequel to a cute fic if anyone wants a pt 2!! js lmk!!
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