#wips as far as the eye can see
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unfrozenpeas · 2 months ago
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starting wips: :)))
finishing them: :(((
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climbthemountain2020 · 9 months ago
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Oops, all WIPS
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sollucets · 2 years ago
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to be clear i am actually Very Very excited about msp roleswap and i will be taking no criticism on the matter
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buckyalpine · 4 months ago
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You know who'd talk you through it? Bucky. Bucky would talk you through it. I'm feral therefore this is feral. I always say I'm sorry after writing shit like this but this time I'm genuinely sorry, lost sight of the plot.
18+ af, minors dni
I'm gonna finish a wip, I swear, but just imagine for a moment, Bucky being intimate with the most soft shy little bunny ever and learning what she likes based on all the pretty moans and squeals he can pull out of her. He gauges what she's into based on how fucking soaked his balls get from the way she drips on him. Her pussy gets so tight around his dick and he knows whatever he's doing is working because she
She was too scared to tell him anything about what she liked so there was a lot of experimenting in the start. He took it soft and slow at first, basking in how warm her body felt against his, relishing in those quiet sighs she makes when he rolls his hips. For a while he thinks that's as vocal as she gets until a slightly harder thrust of his cock makes her squeak, her cunt clenching around him. His eyes widen at this new found discovery, thrusting harder and harder each time, that squeak turning into a slutty moan.
So she can get louder...
It's become a game for him, talking you through every single orgasm he pulls from you, growing more and more feral over how vocal you are when he does something new.
"Mmph, fuck yeah, that's it baby, moan f'me" He coos as he fucks his fingers in you faster while kneeling in front of you, his own knees keeping yours apart. He's truly playing with your body to his own delight having you naked, legs spread far apart with your pussy on display for him. He loves fingering you because he gets to look at your entire body whither beneath him. Little does he know how crazy it makes you because while he towers over you, eyes raking over your pleasure consumed form, you're admiring him right back. His thick pink cock is so full and hard standing achingly tall. His balls look deliciously heavy and you love the way he uses his knees to keep you spread because he ends up showing off even more of his sac and you are rightfully obsessed.
Your clit makes him drool. It's so perfectly sensitive and he's perfected licking, rubbing and sucking it till your gushing on his face and pulling his hair.
"Y'like that huh baby" He whispers to himself when he rubs faster and you start to claw at his arms, your back arching off the bed, moans growing louder. He watches your reaction like a predator watching it's prey waiting for the perfect moment to let you fall.
"Y-ess" You manage to cry out but Bucky thinks you can do better.
"Y'know what m'gonna do now bunny?" He knows you can't answer but based on the way your clit is throbbing against his fingers your attention is 100% on him. You loved his dirty talking and he's going to keep going until the sheets need to be changed. "M'gonna lick and suck on that pretty little clit of yours, you like that, don't you?"
You frantically nod and he lets out a breathy chuckle, his own cock getting wet at the thought of tasting you.
"Lookit what you do to me" He pulls his hand away making you look down so you can see him squeeze his cockhead, smearing his arousal onto your swollen bud, tears falling from your cheeks from how erotic and dirty he was. He rubs his tip all over not bothering to muffle his own whines and whimpers, "M'so fuckin' sensitive here baby" He'd never miss a chance to edge you both, your most sensitive parts rubbing against each other until he's done teasing. "See how wet you make me bunny? You're not the only one who gets soaked baby, shit you make me so wet"
You can see clear sticky webs clinging from his cockhead to your clit as he continues to tap and rut himself against you, "Don't worry baby, I'll clean up the mess I make"
He goes down between your legs, starting off with tentative licks like a kitten. That's before he lets those pouty lips of his seal around you, suckling with needy gurgles as if he were drinking milk. He groans at the taste of his own precum he marked you with, your taste combined with his makes him nearly cum.
"O-OOH-" The squirm of your legs are held still by his arms. He doesn't know how anyone other than you can look so adorably sweet and slutty at the same time with your eyes rolling back, jaw slack, sinful sounds filling the room, your white cream making a mess on the sheets. His dick is dripping and while he'd love for you to finish on his face, he knows that's not your favourite way to cum.
No.
Your loudest moans are when your filled with his cock while he plays with your clit with his lips by your ear.
Favourite position? You're not picky but he knows the ones you love the most. Your pussy gets so tight when he puts you in the sluttiest ones.
"Good girl, good fuckin' girl" He whispers tugging your earlobe between his teeth while maintaining a brutal pace, the sweat slicking his chest hot against your back. You're kneeling while he fucks you from behind, holding your body up, one hand wrapped around your throat while the other holds your hip. He wasn't sure how you'd feel about being choked until you squirted on him the first time he did it. "You love my fat cock don't you bunny, slut for big dick-" He brings his hand down to slap your clit making you sob, your wetness squirting onto the sheets, body limp in his hold, "Baby, you're soaking my balls, should make you suck them clean"
You moan louder.
Bucky smirks.
He's going to keep going.
"You like that don't you, you wanna lick my balls clean angel? Empty them first and then get down and suck 'em. Suck my cock, drink up all the cum that's still dripping after I cum in you"
That's all it takes. You're cumming without warning but Bucky's gonna make your orgasm last minutes if possible, his dirty talking getting filthier with each clench of your pussy.
"M'gonna be all sensitive for you angel, y' know how hard m'gonna cum for you? Gonna keep on cumming until I'm all empty"
"You're such a slut huh, you'd suck my cock even if it was soft-oh shhit baby-you like that too? You like me turning soft for you? You want daddy to get subby for you baby, hm?"
"I-I-Oh god James!!!" You whine and desperately try to fuck yourself back on him to prolong how good he's making you feel, all these feral thoughts too much-He reaches to pinch your clit, now rolling it between his fingers and you nearly pass out-
At this point anything he says doesn't matter. Maybe it happens. Maybe it doesn't. He just says anything and everything that clouds both your fantasies that make you sob and sob from overstimulation.
"I can be subby for you bunny, y'know that. Tell daddy what you want, you can have anything y'want"
"Love when you lick my balls, clean my cock. Shit, y'know I'd let you touch me anywhere baby"
The very thought of what that entails sends you into a second orgasm.
"s'that it? You wanna taste daddy, bunny? Touch me where no one else has? Hm? Just my bunny putting her cute little tongue on my-
"FUUCCCKKKKKKK" You fall forward and love being smothered by him, lying flat on your tummy while he mounts you from behind letting his full body collapse on you.
"So little under me, no where to run, you make me wanna breed you when you're like this baby, wanna give you all of my cum.
"Bucky-Buckyy!" Your muffled screams and taut body have him pounding you harder, your orgasm squeezing cum out of his body even though he want's to hold it. You make it impossible He's still gonna talk you through it all while falling himself.
"I know, I know baby, feels good-s'good-oh God you're milking my cock bunny-fuckk" His hips stutter to a grind, "Shit I can't st-top, God y/n please-want it-need you" He's babbling at this point, the both of you utterly gone, floating in bliss. He's going to clean and take good good care of you, making a mental note of what he did to get you scream this time. He smirks to himself with his new information, next time he'd be more than happy to see you lose yourself while you play with and lick his-
Alright, that's enough.
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saintobio · 5 months ago
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the art of loving, feat. l&ds rafayel.
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pairings. rafayel, fem!reader genre. fluff, smut, established relationship, 18+ tags. artist x muse, hints of abandonment issues, clingy bf!rafayel, allusions to nude paintings, fellatio, cum eating, protected sex, praise kink notes. my third l&ds boy :’) there’s a full blown sylus oneshot coming but for now, i have to write abt our cute fish! i’ll continue the jjk wips on the weekend bcos my l&ds hyperfixation is currently taking over 🤧
࣪ ⁺⋆𖧷 artist!rafayel who makes you the muse of his paintings. he loves how he can adore your face while turning his blank canvas into something as colorful as you. it all started when he used to sketch you when you’re not looking. and it’s a habit that he, time and time again, still does. whether you’re reading, sleeping, or simply lost in thought, he finds these moments precious and captures them in his sketchbook. he actually has a dedicated corner of you on his mo art studio, where it’s filled with paintings and sketches of his beautiful girlfriend.
࣪ ⁺⋆𖧷 artist!rafayel who loves to paint with you. he’ll set up a canvas next to his and guide your hands, laughing together as you create something… unique. look, he’s not making fun of your painting. in fact, he’d say you’re actually very talented. “it’s not bad at all,” he’d claim, “it’s an exquisite art… if i close my eyes.” how mean! but honestly, if you were to sell your artwork, he would still be the first person to buy it.
࣪ ⁺⋆𖧷 artist!rafayel who gets playful with paint. while you’re on the subject of ‘painting together’, you know how cheeky rafayel is, and when he dabs a bit of paint on your nose or cheeks, the light-hearted paint fight ends in messy, colorful kisses. one time, he even left a purple handprint on your bum, and giggles each time he sees it from behind.
࣪ ⁺⋆𖧷 artist!rafayel who gets clingy when you’re busy. he’ll sulk if he feels you’re not paying enough attention to him, often wrapping his arms around you from behind and nuzzling into your neck to remind you he’s there. he can very grumpy, too. like a spoiled brat who he didn’t get what he wants. it’s just that he dislikes the feeling of being ignored and abandoned, so the last thing you knew not to do is make him wait too long on your dates or make him feel like your mind is occupied by anything else other than him. because he’d go as far as pretending to be in a helpless situation just so you’d drop everything and run off to him. how silly!
࣪ ⁺⋆𖧷 artist!rafayel who surprises you with personalized art gifts. from small sketches slipped into your bag to full portraits given on special occasions. it’s his way of expressing his love, because he’s very grateful of how supportive you are when he has art exhibits. your presence calms his nerves, and he always looks for you in the crowd to find strength in your encouraging smiles.
࣪ ⁺⋆𖧷 artist!rafayel who likes to cuddle while discussing his latest ideas. he enjoys your input and loves bouncing ideas off you. his hands like to roam around your body as he keeps you in bed all day, whispering sweet nothings into you ear and making the atmosphere warm and intimate. “i can’t help it!”was his usual excuse whenever you’d call him out for being too touchy. “sometimes, my inspirations come in the form of physical intimacy, you know!”
࣪ ⁺⋆𖧷 artist!rafayel who can’t resist kissing you passionately when he’s inspired. he sketches you in intimate moments, letting you lie beautifully naked in bed and with only a blanket to cover the lower half of your body, like a vulnerable mermaid looking to be held by her prince. he’ll pull you close, hands covered in paint, leaving colorful fingerprints and delicate patterns on your skin as his lips capture yours in a heated kiss. he would peel the blanket off you slowly, taking his sweet time as if memorizing every dip and curve to later recreate in his art. his touch is both tender and electrifying. and his expressions, both raw and passionate as he eyes every inch of your body.
⁺⋆𖧷 artist!rafayel who whispers his deepest desires in your ear. his voice becomes husky with emotions, telling you exactly what he wants, and leaving you blushing and eager to feed him the attention he seeks. he’s very needy, indeed. but most especially in bed. he’d often grab your hand, allowing you to brush it against his toned chest and down to his… aching member. it’s begging to be released, you both know it. and so when he guides your head closer to his crotch, you already know what ‘job’ you had to do for him.
⁺⋆𖧷 artist!rafayel who whines a lot while you’re pleasing him, but in a cute way. he’s just very vocal about it. he’s incapable of keeping his little moans whenever he feels your tongue rolling around his tip, your lips leaving open-mouthed kisses along the sides of his length. it’s like suction when you fully take him into your mouth, the image of your head bobbing to suck his cock is extremely vivid in his head. “mhm~ don’t stop.” rafayel loses his mind over it. “my darling, lover girl. you’re so pretty, my baby.” and when you’d allow him to cum inside your mouth, he’s a weak man watching you swallow every single drop.
⁺⋆𖧷 artist!rafayel who respects your boundaries and doesn’t push you to try things in bed that you’re not comfortable with. when you told him he can’t do you raw, he willingly obliged. so, lo and behold the huge box of condoms on his nightstand. he believes in practicing safe sex because you both aren’t ready for that kind of responsibility yet. but that doesn’t lessen the frequency of your activities in bed. in fact, his beloved box of rubbers would easily run out after 2-3 weeks.
⁺⋆𖧷 artist!rafayel who likes to be praised when doing the deed with you. it’s just innate in him. you have to let him know if he’s doing good, have to let him hear how great he feels inside of you, how pretty he looks when you gaze down on him, and how amazing his hands are in finding your most sensitive places. “raf, you’re the best at this,” you’d moan into his mouth, the sound of skin-slapping echoing across his studio as you feel him racing through his climax, “s-so good, ngh~” he’s one to smile at your little whimpers. “yeah, you like where i’m hitting it, baby?” “haa—i do!” “thought so.”
⁺⋆𖧷 artist!rafayel who wants to be displayed all over your social media accounts. it’s as straightforward as he is—he wants his face to take over your account. he wants to know that you’re proud of him and that you’re showing off your handsome boyfriend whenever you can. he also wants you to interact with his posts, leave comments, and hit the heart button. every. single. time. he gets easily sulky if sees you ignoring his cute posts about you. that’s just how he is, and it doesn’t frustrate you one bit, because he just loves being the center of your world in exchange for treating you the center of his. that was the art of loving rafayel.
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bluehoodiewoozi · 3 months ago
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Fools in Love
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Kim Mingyu x fem!Reader
Genre: strangers to lovers, fluff
Words: 10.5k
Warnings: adult language. mentions of stalking (no one’s actually stalked). reader has a lot of conflicting feelings and it takes her three to five business days to figure everything out.
[UNI AU] When Jeonghan made you declare a stranger in the library your new boyfriend, you had a very different outcome in your mind.
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Note: for some reason, my bestie @luvlino really liked this fic as a WIP and I promised to finish it for her eventually, so here we are. anyways, we've been referring to this fic as "himbo!gyu" all this time
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You should’ve known it wouldn’t end well. 
The first sign should have been the shiver up your spine when Jeonghan’s lips quirked into a smile that you knew far too well. The second sign should have definitely been your voice of reasons cursing and hatching ridiculously elaborate escape plans. 
He leaned forward against the table between you two, maintaining eye contact. “So what do you say?”
“Sorry,” you blinked and shook your head, “I wasn’t paying attention. What were you saying?”
Jeonghan clicked his tongue. “Of course you weren’t.”
“When is she ever?” Joshua half-joked, nose deep in an oddly specific magazine he’d picked up in a procrastination daze. He looked up briefly to give you a once over before humming to himself, “Honestly, it might be for the better.”
“As I was saying,” Jeonghan glared at Joshua before offering you a sickeningly sweet smile – and there was that shiver up your spine again –, “go up to pretty boy over there and tell him he’s your boyfriend now.”
“I don’t even like him,” you muttered, glancing at the boy as discreetly as you could. You almost bit your tongue at your hasty words because the slight furrow of his brow and his jawline had your heart screeching. You frowned, head whipping back to look at Jeonghan. “Wait, what’s in it for me?”
If his wide eyes were anything to go by, he was as clueless as you were. With a sheepish shrug, he offered, “I’ll buy you a candy bar? You like Snickers, right?”
You stared at him in wonder for a while but were soon interrupted by Joshua’s scandalised gasp. “Is it because Snickers is on sale at the convenience store this week?” 
Jeonghan blinked slowly. “Why else?”
Your gaze drifted back to the mysterious student sitting across the library, now scribbling notes in his iPad between puzzled head-scratches. The part of you that wanted to say ‘fuck it’ and go through with the dare was growing by the second.
But before you could agree, the dad friend of the group finally decided to speak up. Seungcheol placed a hand on your shoulder and looked you right in the eyes. “You do know that you don’t have to agree to every bet Jeonghan gives you, right? Please tell me that you know that.”
Seeing the worry in his eyes, you couldn’t help but wonder if maybe you were starting to develop a gambling problem with the help of Yoon Jeonghan. But what’s one more bet anyway?
“One Snickers bar?” you repeated back and Jeonghan nodded. Your eyes narrowed. “Make it three and a can of cola.”
He had the audacity to gasp. “That’s robbery!”
“Not if you’re the one paying,” Joshua pointed out rather off-handedly, still more focused on his magazine. (You took a moment to identify the issue in his hands as ‘Practical Sheep, Goats and Alpacas’ and once again wondered how you became friends with this gem of a human.)
Jeonghan grumbled, slumping in his seat. “Fine. Three Snickers bars and a can of cola, but you have to go up to him and tell him he’s your boyfriend now and then walk away like nothing happened.”
“Bet.”
Beside you, Seungcheol sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I should’ve just joined the Italians for that group project back in the first year. Why did I choose you idiots instead of the Italians?”
“You love us.” Jeonghan winked. He then slumped in his seat, a soft pout on his lips. “By the way, speaking of the Italians, I found one of the girls crying last night.”
“Crying? Why?” you wondered. “Was she okay?”
“Apparently her boyfriend broke up with her, over text no less,” Jeonghan sighed, filled with compassion as always. “She looked really heartbroken. I had to comfort her for hours.”
Joshua frowned. “So that’s where you were.”
“Did you find out who the jerk was?” Seungcheol asked. “You should’ve at least gone and given him a good slap upside the head.”
“Kim Mingyu. That’s the jerk’s name.”
Seungcheol grimaced. “That guy deserves even worse. I swear there seems to be another heartbreak with his name written all over it every three days.”
“Well, anyways!” Jeonghan cheered up again, clapping his hands together excitedly. “You get to be the heartbreaker today, oh my dear (Y/n).”
“When are you going up to him then?” Joshua wondered, setting his magazine aside as curiosity took over. For someone claiming to be well-mannered, he sure loved any implications of impending drama. “I’m not sure how long he’ll stay cooped up in here.”
You rolled your eyes and got up, grabbing your bag and phone. “I’m going now and leaving you guys behind.”
“Oh, right!” Seungcheol smiled. “You said you’re going plant shopping, right?”
“Plant shopping?!” screeched Jeonghan, clearly caught unaware. “Don’t you already have, like, three plants?”
“I don’t have a neon pothos yet,” you reasoned timidly. Joshua nodded in approval as Seungcheol watched you with a fond smile, much resembling a proud father. 
Jeonghan raised an eyebrow before turning to Seungcheol. “And you’re telling me that I am a bad influence on her?”
“I’m going!” you called out softly, slow steps leading you away from the four-seat table in the art section of the library. You watched warily as the boys argued between themselves. “Guys?”
“– and just the other day you told her to –” Seungcheol interrupted himself with a cough to offer you a bright smile, silently asking you what you needed.
“I’m leaving,” you whispered theatrically loudly and nodded towards the mysterious stranger in front of whom you were about to make a fool out of yourself. 
As always, Jeonghan was the first to catch on. He offered a wink. “Good luck, baby.”
You felt your lunch crawl up your throat at the nickname and the suddenly wide eyes of Joshua told you he felt the same way. You shook it off and headed towards the exit.
On the way out of the building, you took a deep breath and stopped in front of your victim’s desk. Feeling like a middle-schooler preparing to recite a poem by heart, you clasped your hands in front of your body and cleared your throat.
At the sudden interruption, the handsome man glanced up, eyes wide in surprise. He mirrored your smile, setting his pen aside as he waited for you to speak.
You didn’t need to look back to feel Jeonghan’s and Joshua’s curious stares on you. But you were nothing if not a good sport, so you forced your smile to brighten a little bit more before looking the man in his eyes and announcing, “As of right now, you are my boyfriend.”
If you hadn’t been the cause of it, the sudden drop of his jaw and the bulging of his eyes would have amused you beyond human comprehension. But unlike Jeonghan and Joshua, you did have an ounce of dignity and compassion, so you offered one last smile before scurrying out of the library.
As you set foot outside the library, you left behind a confused man and a half-hearted promise.
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You spent the rest of the week praying and hoping and praying again that you wouldn’t run into the tall mysterious stranger who had become your friends’ newest inside joke. So far, you've been successful.
“Here,” Jeonghan slammed three Snickers bars down on your desk on Monday and sighed, “your payment.”
Your eyes naturally fell into a suspicious squint. “Where’s the cola?”
Jeonghan offered a tight-lipped smile and a pat on your shoulder. “Jihoon needs it more than you do. Think of the children, Y/n.”
You failed to see how Lee Jihoon who had just three days ago publicly threatened to choke Kwon Soonyoung with his freshly broken guitar string could be considered a child, but you assumed there was a good reason. So you decided to let it slide just this once (or at least until Joshua would feel bad for you and buy you the cola himself).
Until then, you would take what you could get. 
Frankly, by this point, you were starting to forget about the library incident. It was just a bet like every other. This was no different from the time when Jeonghan dared you to guilt-trip Seungcheol into giving you his favourite hoodie. 
Except when you caught the eye of a handsome stranger as he walked into the classroom, you knew that was about to change. His lips slowly curved into a smile and you just knew that this was the end of your life as you knew it.
Instinctively, you shuffled around to make yourself seem as small and insignificant as possible. The ceiling looked far more attractive than ever before while you hoped that maybe this man had terrible eyesight and he’d mistake you for part of the furniture. Or maybe he’d at least buy into the idea that it had been a different girl who harassed him at the library.
“I knew I recognized you from somewhere,” the man spoke a bit too smugly as he approached the desk you and Jeonghan had chosen for the lecture. His smile brightened even more. “I guess I’m your boyfriend now.”
But before you could protest or even comprehend what was happening, he winked and headed further back into the classroom. When you glanced over your shoulder, you found him sitting next to Jeon Wonwoo, a smile on his face. He offered you one last (and, in your opinion, excessive) wink before turning back to his seatmate.
You turned to glare at Jeonghan who looked just as baffled as you felt. Under your threatening stare, his silence slowly turned into nervous laughter. “Well… That was not the outcome I expected…”
“Oh, it wasn’t?” you couldn’t help but bite back before groaning and hiding your face in your hands. “Has he been in this class this whole time?”
“I guess he always sits towards the back,” Jeonghan concluded slowly, “so we wouldn’t have seen him but he would have seen us.”
You wished he’d come to that conclusion a few days earlier. “You owe me that cola and then some more, Yoon.”
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Sitting across from you at the little campus cafe, Joshua shared a glance with Seungcheol. The latter shrugged so he decided he had to be the one to take action. 
“So,” he started somewhat hesitantly, fully aware of what an angry you was capable of, “do you want to tell us what happened?”
“What do you mean?” you feigned ignorance all the while aggressively stirring your soup of the day. “Nothing interesting ever happens here.”
Thoroughly unconvinced, Seungcheol raised an eyebrow. “Sure.”
“I think something happened in class today,” Joshua elaborated slowly. It was only then that you remembered he had taken a fair share of psychology classes. “Do you want to talk about it? Was it Jeonghan again?”
As both a surprise and the expected outcome, you slammed your spoon on the table. “That jerk! Do you know what he did?”
Joshua’s almost failed attempt to swallow down a sarcastic comment could be seen by any bystander but you paid it no mind.
“Do you remember the guy from the library? You know, the one.”
“The tall guy?” Seungcheol wondered. You nodded. “I remember him.”
“Turns out he’s in our literature class!” You clapped your hands together in a fit of rage. “And now I have to spend the rest of the semester in the same room as him every Monday.”
Joshua blinked. “That doesn’t seem too bad.”
“He winked at me today. Twice. And he kept smiling at me too.”
“Oh.” Joshua tried to find a different word of comfort. He was out of words for the day. Perhaps his last psychology essay had really stolen half his personal dictionary. “That’s… rough, buddy.”
“Speaking of the devil,” Seungcheol whispered so faintly you barely heard. He glanced towards the door and surely enough, as if he’d heard your words in the wind, the man of the hour walked into the cafe. 
You almost swooned at the way his shirt rode up a little as he stretched his arms up and at the smile and friendly greeting he offered the cashier. His voice soon filled the cafe with a sense of warmth, like he belonged right there. 
“Busy day?” you heard him as the cashier as he made his way behind the counter. “Lots of customers today?”
The cashier chuckled. “Nothing more than usual. They’re your customers now though.”
You turned to Joshua and Seungcheol again, hiding your face behind your strategically placed menu. “He works here?!”
“Listen, I was not any wiser than you,” Joshua justified with wide and apologetic eyes. “Maybe he won’t recognize you.”
“I’m highly doubtful,” Seungcheol pointed out rather lazily, leaning his head against the cool glass of the window. “He’s recognized her once, what’s a few more times?”
You were deeply grateful for the silence that took over afterwards, happily ignoring the silent conversation of blinks and nudges your two friends were having. You lifted your hood up and stirred your soup a few more times before taking your first spoonful – the sooner you start, the sooner you finish, and the sooner you can leave this personal hell of yours to hide in your bedroom.
“Well, I think Cheol had a point in that,” Joshua suddenly whispered, nudging your leg under the table. For once, you had no intention to look up.
With a soft clink, a plate was placed on the table. You found a piece of the cake of the day in front of you and glanced up. The ‘boyfriend’ offered you a wide smile and nodded to your food. “Eat well. Cake’s on the house for you, sweetheart.”
Without another word, he shuffled back to the counter and resumed his task of re-organizing the cake display. 
“...Did that just happen?” Seungcheol wondered, eyeing your cake in a way that made you wary with good reason. “And can I please have a bite?”
You blinked and pushed the plate towards your friend. His smile lit up the room as he reached for a spoon and began munching away. When you glanced towards the counter again, you found your ‘boyfriend’ watching you with a sweet smile, a puzzled look in his eyes and a puppy-like curious tilt to his head. 
Promptly you made the decision to avoid this cafe at all costs.
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The mysterious boy who hadn’t existed to you just a week ago suddenly seemed to be following you around like a shadow. He was everywhere you went. It almost felt like a bad dream.
He had already chewed you out of your favourite cafe and now he seemed determined to make it so there was nowhere you could go in peace.
You’d go to class, and 6 out of 10 times he was there too, already nose-deep in his notes at the back of the classroom. There was nowhere you could sit to hide from the glint of recognition in his eyes and the charmingly bright smile he directed your way each time.
You’d go to the grocery store and voila! He was there! Picking out watermelons like he knew exactly what he was doing (you were fairly sure he didn’t because, honestly, who even knows how to pick out watermelons?).
You’d go to the park across the street from the dorms and turn back on your heel because he was, once again, there, flexing his muscles as he warmed up for a run with his fratboy friends. 
“I honestly think you’re being a little bit overdramatic,” Jeonghan told you softly as you attempted to hide behind a bookshelf at the library. You paid him no mind.
The mysterious ‘boyfriend’ was here as well. You had almost betrayed yourself and squeaked when you recognized him reading a book synopsis right next to you.
“Maybe he’s stalking me. Maybe that’s why he’s always exactly where I am,” you theorised while watching him like a hawk from your hiding spot. Jeonghan leaned his head out of the shadows to take a good look at the boy but you harshly pulled him back to hiding by his collar. 
You glared at your friend before whispering, “You’ll get us caught like this, idiot!”
He raised an unimpressed brow. “Are you sure he’s the one stalking you and not the other way around?”
“I– That’s impossible! Who do you think I am?!” You so wished to curse him out but you still had some manners left. You scoffed. “Just shut up and let me suffer in peace.”
When you turned back to watch the mysterious guy, however, your soul almost left your body. He was right there –  right in front of you, leaning against the bookshelf – smiling at you like it was the most natural thing. 
“Hi,” he spoke. You wished his voice wasn’t so enjoyably husky. 
You offered a tight-lipped smile, hand already reaching for Jeonghan’s sleeve to drag him out of the library and give him another earful for putting you in this situation. “Hi.”
It was hard to tell which was worse: the adorable smile the stranger offered you at your reply or the judgmental glare of Jeonghan which told you that your voice had betrayed you once again. You were doomed either way.
“I just realised we see each other so often but I don’t even know your name,” the stranger spoke and he seemed almost shy with the way he fiddled with the string of his black hoodie. 
Before you could open your mouth to either tell him to leave or tell him a random name you came up with on the spot, Jeonghan jumped into the conversation a bit too enthusiastically, “I’m Jeonghan! This is my best friend, (Y/n). Please take good care of her for me. I have to go help my friend get his cat out of the oven.”
And just like that you had lost another friend. You’d be sure to tell Seungcheol about this to make his disappearance official. Traitors were not welcome in your group.
“Your name’s pretty,” the stranger told you softly, still fiddling and looking down at his sneakers. If you didn’t know any better, you would’ve thought he actually had a crush on you. “Pretty like you are.” He cleared his throat and looked at you once again, forcing a wide smile. “I’m Kim Mingyu.”
It took every ounce of muscle control and brain power you had left not to let your jaw drop. 
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“What?!” Seungcheol screeched before glaring at Jeonghan like he’d just been caught in the act of murdering a beloved family pet. “You little– You set her up with a frat boy!”
Jeonghan saw no problem with it. “I’m pretty sure you almost became a frat boy, Cheol.”
“That’s different!” 
“And Joshua was literally in a frat until this year!”
Joshua did not appreciate his name being brought into this conversation. He rolled his eyes before offering you a look that told you that he blamed you for all of this. “You do realise I left the frat for a reason, right?”
“Yes, we know,” Jeonghan waved his protests away off-handedly, “you got caught making out with the president’s girl. Nothing to brag about.”
You could barely hold your laugh as Joshua’s jaw dropped, scandalised and exasperated. “Where did that rumour even come from?! Seriously! That is not what happened!”
“Eh, close enough.” Jeonghan shrugged. “Anyways, how was I supposed to know that guy was the Kim Mingyu? It’s not like he wears a name tag! None of you could recognize him either.”
A moment of realisation dawned on you. You let out a soft cry. “Dude, he sat with Jeon Wonwoo. Who else could he have been?”
“Wonwoo’s pretty okay though,” Joshua pointed out. “Not sure about Mingyu.”
“Didn’t Mingyu date like 30 girls just last semester? They say he’s sort of crazy about women or something. Falls in love too quickly.” Seungcheol sighed before glaring at Jeonghan. “You couldn’t have picked literally anyone else?”
“Who?” Jeonghan scoffed. “Joshua? You?”
“The fact that those are the only other options you saw is really concerning,” you mumbled while hiding your face in your hands.
Of course your luck had gotten you entangled in a situation with the university’s biggest womaniser. You were Screwed with a capital S.
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“Just avoid him,” Seungcheol had drilled into your head that evening. “Avoid him and don’t look him in the eyes. Just walk in the opposite direction if you see him. Do not let him speak to you or you’ll fall into his trap.”
You leaned against the wall in front of the locked lecture hall door, lost in your thoughts. The laptop in your hands offered a nice grounding weight to remind you to not float too far away, but it didn’t seem to be enough.
Perhaps you should’ve found it amusing that your best friends were treating this guy as some sort of a mythical creature – a siren of some sort that could charm people into a relationship with a smile and two words. But you were more annoyed than anything.
How could this guy appear everywhere you went all the while offering you wide smiles! He seemed less harmful than a golden retriever puppy when he smiled and it annoyed you to no end. Perhaps you were more of a cat person… 
“Hi!” 
You almost jumped in your spot. Your lungs filled with air and your heart rate picked up immensely; it felt like you were coming back to life with the scare. With a wary tightening of your grip you made sure you hadn’t dropped your laptop. 
Who in the hell–
“Damn it,” you cursed under your breath when you caught his eyes. By now you could recognize the chocolate-like shade of them anywhere. Remembering Seungcheol’s words, you quickly looked away and spoke no more.
Mingyu continued smiling at you – he always did – and spoke, “Did you sleep well last night? Have you had breakfast?”
A part of you felt bad for ignoring his caring questions. But feeling bad about this was better than getting scolded by Seungcheol… Mingyu could survive a one-sided conversation.
“Here,” he spoke again, his voice soon followed by plastic crinkling.
You felt the wrapper of a candy bar press against the back of your hand. It was impossible to ignore and so you opened your hand. A Snickers bar. 
Looking up at him was your next mistake. You swear your heart malfunctioned when his smile widened a little. The twinkle in his eyes showed how proud he was of himself before his words could. “I bought it for you. I saw your friend give you three of those, like, weeks ago, so I figured…” He shrugged and looked away shyly. “I figured you might like it.”
Speaking was your second mistake that day. “I do. Thank you.”
The wide smile he offered in return would be engraved into your memory for weeks to come. “So you do speak!” 
You realised your error then and there. Awkwardly clearing your throat, you looked up and down the hallway. “You thought I couldn’t?”
“Well, no,” Mingyu hummed. “It’s just that you’ve never spoken to me since that day at the library and I was getting worried.” He smiled again. “I like your voice. It suits you well.”
You nodded in acknowledgment, fingers grasping the candy bar and your laptop a bit tighter as you willed this interaction to end. Except a part of you – a stupid, dumb, hopelessly romantic part – didn’t want it to end yet. And so, you spoke again, “I didn’t realise you took this class too.”
“I had an annoying free slot in my timetable this semester, so I decided to sign up,” he told you easily, already moving to lean against the wall as well, positioning himself right next to you and just close enough for comfort. “It’s quite fun.”
“The professor’s great. Though the assignments–”
“Annoying, right?” he interjected with an annoyed groan and you couldn’t help but agree. “I mean, weekly reading diaries? 40 pages to read each week? Why?”
“The formatting is so dumb too,” you added. “It always takes me at least thirty minutes just to make sure it’s the correct format and reference style.”
Mingyu nodded enthusiastically. “I almost regret taking this class because of the stupid assignment formatting alone.” 
You weren’t prepared for how your heart skipped a small beat at his next words. 
“But seeing you here makes it a lot better.”
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You decided to not tell your friends about the interaction. It was better this way. You could keep a secret from them. Easy-peasy. 
It had already been an entire day and they had no idea. You could easily do this forever.
“You’re hiding something from us,” Seungcheol concluded just thirty seconds after you sat down across from him at the library. You gulped. “I don’t like this.”
Abandoning his magazine, Joshua raised an eyebrow, eyeing Seungcheol weirdly between curious glances at you. “How do you know?”
“I know my friends very well,” the oldest replied – his voice a pitch lower than usual to prove a point – and leaned back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest, “and I know my friends would never ever lie to me or hide something from me.”
Jeonghan rolled his eyes, an arm wrapping around your anxiously shaky shoulders. “Does she look like a liar to you, Cheol? She’s not the lying type. Oh.” He offered you a worried look. “Are you cold? You’re shaking. Do want me to–”
“I knew it!” Seungcheol slammed his hands onto the table loudly enough to gain the attention of the entire student body at the library at that moment. You could not have felt more ashamed, but he seemed unbothered. 
He practically hissed at you. “What aren’t you telling us? What’s so bad that you can’t tell us about it?”
“Wait, you’re actually hiding something?” Joshua caught on, gasping. “Seriously?” He leaned forward immediately, chest pressed against wood as he practically lied on top of the desk, barely inches from your face. “What is it?”
“You can tell us, you know,” Jeonghan softly told you. It was in these rare moments that you remembered why Jeonghan was your best friend among these three. “We’re not gonna be mad.”
But oh how wrong he was.
“I–” You took a deep breath under their curious gazes. “I might have spoken to Mingyu yesterday.”
“Might have?” Joshua sighed softly and fell back into his chair in defeat. “Great. So in (Y/n) language that means you had a heart-to-heart in front of the anthropology lecture room.”
You were a little concerned that he could read you that well.
“It’s not that bad,” Jeonghan defended you, almost offended on your behalf. “Why would she–” His eyes narrowed at the candy wrapper still peeking out from your pocket. He sighed right after and almost broke his chair with how heavily he leaned back into it. “Did he give you food? You spoke to him in exchange for food?”
Seungcheol caught your eye and looked like he wanted to slam his head against the wall. “(Y/n), what did we talk about last time?”
“You told me to avoid him,” you whispered shamefully.
“Right. I did. Because men are wolves and Kim Mingyu is the worst of them all.” He rubbed the bridge of his nose, eyes crinkling shut. “You’re gonna get your heart broken so bad, my dear.”
“He honestly doesn’t seem so bad though,” you pointed out after a pause of silence. “He’s pretty nice.”
“That is–” Joshua sighed deeply before letting out a sound akin to a sob. “That is exactly the problem. He’s too nice. He’s nice to all the girls and they all fall for him and he falls for them and then the perfect daydream is crushed and they break up and he moves onto the next girl that catches his eye. You’re going to get your heart broken like this.”
Seungcheol had now leaned his face onto the desk, forehead pressed against his textbook. “I’d honestly rather you dated Wonwoo. That guy at least doesn’t have commitment issues.”
“Who has commitment issues?” a familiar husky voice spoke from the side. 
The four of you collectively jumped and stared at the source of the sound. Kim Mingyu, standing at the end of your four-seat desk with an awkward smile and a small pink bento box in hand. 
“You– What are you doing here?” Jeonghan sputtered, hand reaching for yours protectively under the desk – a subconscious attempt to ground and comfort you.
Mingyu held up the container in his hand before sliding it over to you. He gave you an affectionate pat on the head before telling you, “I made you lunch. Figured you might need it with all the studying you have planned for today. I’m cheering for you! You’ll nail this assignment!”
Without another word – but not without one last shy yet charming sweet smile on his way out after he almost tripped over the carpet – he left you be. The food container remained in front of you. 
Joshua stared at the box for a moment, mouth agape. “He brought you food?”
“How did he even know you’d be here?” Seungcheol wondered while scratching his head in thought. “Does he really stalk you?”
“No, but… I might have let it slip yesterday that I would be studying all day with you guys,” you mumbled and reached for the bento box somewhat sheepishly. 
You barely managed to reach to open it before Seungcheol slid it away from you and opened it himself. The smell of warm homemade food filled the room. 
Seungcheol glared at you when you tried to move to get your food back. He slid it further from your reach and picked up the chopsticks placed into the box. “I’m eating it. You don’t deserve to eat after what you’ve done.”
“He literally brought this for me though?” you grumbled but relented and leaned back into your seat. 
You watched enviously as Seungcheol fed a bite to Joshua and the latter moaned in delight. “Oh my god, this is amazing. Wow. Is this homemade?”
“It sure looks like it,” Seungcheol sighed and offered you another glare before sliding the box closer to you again. “You’re so lucky I love you.” 
You cheered quietly – you wouldn’t go hungry this time.
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It seemed that Mingyu’s boldness dialled up by one notch every week. 
Gone were the days when you’d go to class on Mondays, fearing (read: hoping) he’d meet your eyes and smile at you as he walked to the back of the class. 
You came to the realisation as both you and Jeonghan stared at him on this Monday morning. 
Softly gasping for air but still carrying an air of nonchalant pride that seemed to follow him everywhere, Kim Mingyu slumped into the otherwise free seat on your other side. He let out a groan and leaned his head back, closing his eyes.
“God, I hate the stairs,” he eventually sighed before straightening up again and offering you a small smile. “Hi.”
You looked at him, glanced back at where Wonwoo was seated – nose deep in his Macbook, a little too deep in the day’s readings –, and back at him. Jeonghan did the same. You shared a look. Then, you turned to Mingyu and asked, “Are you okay?”
Both he and Jeonghan seemed baffled by your question. But whereas Jeonghan’s confusion could be described as “that is not what we discussed, girl??”, Mingyu's seemed to be more joyous.
His smile brightened just a bit. “Yeah,” he breathed out, “I’m just scared of elevators.”
Not what you had asked for, but you decided you’d take it.
“You climbed up the stairs?” Jeonghan wondered, eyes widening by the second. “Five floors?”
“The elevator is terrifying, okay?” Mingyu whined and rested his head on your shoulder. 
You barely noticed the gesture, instinctually leaning your head to rest on his. It was only Jeonghan’s disbelieving glare that seemed to snap you out of whatever Mingyu-induced daze you were in.
You startled back upright, surprising Mingyu who straightened up as well, head whipping around to find whatever had scared you so. When he found nothing even remotely threatening, he blinked in surprise. “What was that?”
Under Jeonghan’s amused stare, you cleared your throat and feigned nonchalance. “What was what?”
“That– You– I– You–” Mingyu stuttered almost frantically, unable to find the words. You decided he was rather cute after all. 
No, dumbass. You had made a promise to Seungcheol – no boyfriends, especially ones named Kim Mingyu. You shook your head to remind yourself of that when you almost drowned into the browns of his confused eyes. 
“I think the lack of oxygen is getting to you,” Jeonghan decided to save you this time. He leaned his head on his hand propped up on the desk. When you and your “boyfriend” looked at him weird, he shrugged. “He climbed up five floors. His poor brain’s probably on the verge of dying.”
While you thought it was ridiculous, the half-assed explanation seemed to fit Mingyu’s logic just fine.
“Well, there does tend to be less oxygen up high,” Mingyu agreed, eyes narrowing in thought and head nodding along. “Yeah, I guess that makes sense.”
It didn’t make sense but you weren’t in any mood to explain the modern wonder of air conditioning and ventilation to this poor guy yet. Maybe on your fifth date. 
Wait–
Before you could gather your thoughts, the professor cleared her throat and began the lecture. All eyes were on her – for the first two minutes anyway. 
But you were still perplexed. Had you just really considered �� even in a roundabout way – actually dating Kim Mingyu? You glanced to your left; he sat right there, pretty brown eyes fully focused on the lecturer, his fingers tapping away at the keyboard… The warm lights of the lecture hall seemed to make him glow. 
Ethereal. Breathtaking. His jawline must’ve been sculpted by the gods themselves.
No wonder all the girls fell for him.
As you were about to shake that thought from your head, you felt Jeonghan lean closer to you. Your heart stopped as you felt his breath on your ear. He whispered, “Don’t let Seungcheol find out about your crush.”
Gritting your teeth, you considered your options: 
a) You could pretend you didn’t hear him – he’d never let you live it down though.
b) You could just shrug it off and act like he was dumb for even suggesting you’d have a crush on a heartbreaker like Kim Mingyu – but he knew you better than that and you’d be caught in a lie.
c) “He won’t find out if you don’t tell him,” you whispered back, glaring at him over your back. 
Jeonghan’s lips curved into an amused smirk, his brow quirking up. “Yeah? And how do you know I won’t tell him your little secret?”
“Because if you do, I’ll tell him it was you who’s been sneaking expensive drinks on our pub bills.”He paled immediately – option c: success.
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As you walked to class on Thursday, you decided to stop acting like you disliked Mingyu. 
Coming to terms with your crush had taken a few mental breakdowns and a few too many crying-emoji-filled messages to Jeonghan over the last two days. It was a small price to pay.
For the first time since that fateful day at the library, you approached him first. You headed straight towards the lecture room, beelined straight for him – leaned against the wall, reading something off his phone –, and offered him a friendly smile. “Hi.”
He looked up immediately – with such force that you worried his neck would snap – and mirrored your smile. You had to hold back from swooning; god, he really did look like a golden retriever puppy. 
“Hi,” he replied and locked his phone, hiding it in his back pocket and reaching for your hand on instinct. Unfortunately, you hadn’t come to terms with your crush that much yet, and so you hid your hands behind your back. He seemed to take the hint just fine.
His smile never disappeared as he watched you, seeming to almost adore you just for standing in front of him. “Something feels different today,” he finally mentioned. “I like it.”
“Yeah?” You laughed.
“Yeah,” he nodded decisively, and you felt proud for doing something to brighten his day, only for your heart to skip a beat at his next words, “you should smile more often.”
“I– What?”
His grin widened. “You almost never smile at me. But you’re smiling today. I like that.”
If you hadn’t decided to just accept your new-found crush earlier, you sure would have now. 
His ears burned red – as you felt yours must have been – and he cleared his throat while bashfully looking at the ground. He bounced in his spot for a moment before asking, “Did you eat yet?”
“Had a granola bar on the way here,” you confessed shamefully after a moment of thought. “In my defence, I almost missed my bus.”
“Same here,” he laughed, glancing up again. He hesitated only for a moment before suggesting, “Do you want to come to the cafe with me after the class?” When you didn’t immediately answer – too busy trying to figure out if this was real or you had developed a very bad case of hallucinations – he softly added, "I could get you cheesecake for free.”
And just like that you were ready to marry this man. Seungcheol, Joshua and Jeonghan could eat dirt – they were probably just jealous that you were getting someone’s attention and they were sad unlovable loners. Yeah, that was definitely it. No other reason why they’d try to prevent you from falling in love with this wonderful guy who was promising you free cheesecake.
“I’d love that,” you replied with a bright smile. 
Exactly two hours later, you found yourself in a booth at the café you had previously sworn to boycott, sitting across from the very reason you had declared your boycott to begin with. Life is strange, you concluded, but found yourself unable to look away from him.
“Cheesecake for the lady,” Mingyu smiled proudly as he presented the plate to you. Seeing your thankful and excited smile, he winked, “I made sure to get you the biggest slice they had.”
You could’ve kissed him on the mouth for that comment alone.
“So,” he began as the two of you settled further into your seats, getting more comfortable, “what’s your major?”
You didn’t hesitate to answer his question before shooting back, “And you?”
“Graphic design,” he told you with a shrug. “It was either that or business.”
“Nice,” you nodded along though you were unable to find any further words. You silently cursed yourself for being so damn awkward with strangers. Did Mingyu even count as a stranger? Was he your friend? An acquaintance? Your boyfriend?
He seemed to sense your internal turmoil, reaching a hand over the table to hold yours. “Are you always this awkward with people?”
“Only at the beginning,” you confessed and felt his fingers tighten around yours in a comforting manner. “I promise I’m not usually this boring.”
“I mean,” he chuckled, “you seemed rather bold at the library that day. I thought that confidence carried over into other situations.”
“Only occasionally.”
But he didn’t seem to mind. “That’s okay. I like a challenge anyway.”
It was your turn to laugh. “Yeah? Then how come you’re not a challenge yourself?”
“What do you mean?” His ears burned a shameful red again. 
“Any normal guy would’ve acted like nothing happened,” you told him. “But you started getting me snacks and making small talk in front of the lecture hall.”
The red of his ears got darker by the second. But he cleared his throat and shrugged almost bashfully. “Can you blame me? It’s not every day a pretty girl tells me to be her boyfriend.”
Your breath hitched. “You think I’m pretty?”
“The prettiest,” he confessed with a shy smile and your heart was completely spoken for.
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You had one single duty to your friends: to always tell the truth. As much as it pained you, you had to tell them about Mingyu. 
Because, for one, Seungcheol wouldn’t stop asking about him. 
And, for two, because you had learnt there was no use lying to them because they each seemed to have a built-in lie detector. 
But coming to terms with your inability to lie to your three friends came with horrible consequences.
And by consequences, you meant Seungcheol and Joshua grilling you about your relationship with Mingyu as if you had committed a crime most vile, complete with Jeonghan viewing the interrogation from the sofa with a bowl of popcorn.
“It wasn’t a date,” you tried to defend yourself. “We just went to the café after the lecture.”
“Yeah, the café,” Joshua emphasised as you stared at him dumbly, “the place where couples go on first dates.”
“It wasn’t a date,” you repeated yourself with a sigh. “It was just coffee and a slice of cake.”
Seungcheol paced around on the rug, already wearing holes into his dark socks. He ran a hand through his hair before pointing at Jeonghan. “You; you’re planning a first date with your crush. Where do you take them?”
Your head immediately snapped to glare at Jeonghan, daring him to say as much as a word – you knew exactly where this was going. He responded with a mischievous smile and you turned to scream into a cushion before he could even open his mouth.
Fortunately, Jeonghan was a nice friend and patiently waited for your screaming to stop before answering in a clear voice, “To the campus café to get coffee and a slice of their favourite cake.”
You threw the cushion right at his head. He only laughed.
Seungcheol, as if unaware of Jeonghan’s very clear plot against you, gestured widely before glaring at you. “Do you see my point?”
“It was not a date–”  you began again, perhaps hoping that repeating the sentence enough times would make the guys magically believe you and forget the argument. But your speech was interrupted by the unmistakable ringtone off your phone. 
You checked your pockets but it wasn’t there. Instead, to your horror, you found that Joshua had it right there, in the palm of his hand. He eyed it suspiciously before looking up to smirk at you. “Loverboy doesn’t seem to think so though.”
Your heart sank and soared at the same time. 
Mingyu said it was a date? Fuck. Now you had lost your only argument. 
On the other hand… Mingyu thought it was a date? Aw.
That latter thought seemed to betray you to Seungcheol. His glare hardened. “(Y/n)!”
“Okay, so it was a date!” you burst before sighing and curling into yourself on the armchair. “Is it a crime to date? Is it that bad that I like someone?”
Your question was met with a softening gaze. Whether it was your words or something else about your behaviour, the three seemed to suddenly become guilty and remorseful. 
“No, it’s– You– I–” Seungcheol stuttered to find the words. His posture had suddenly sunk from big and intimidating to tiny and slumped. He exchanged worried glances with your other two friends before letting out a soft whine and stumbling over the carpet to hug you to his chest. “It’s not bad that you like someone. Of course you can date whoever you want.”
“Just not Mingyu?” you scoffed but made no move to leave his embrace. His stubborn personality and overprotective nature be damned, but he gave the best and warmest hugs you had ever experienced. You doubted anyone could give better hugs. 
He sighed. “I– Don’t make me feel bad about this. God, I can’t do this–”
“We just don't want you to get hurt,” Joshua took over, reaching over to pat your head. “Mingyu kind of has a reputation.”
“I don't think he does it on purpose though,” you mumbled.
“I don’t either,” Joshua hummed, “but the fact is that he leaves a trail of broken hearts wherever he goes. He falls fast and hard but he loses interest just as quick. We don’t want you to be one of the broken girls he leaves behind.”
“Bet I can fix him,” you stubbornly joked and chuckled but you weren't fully convinced it was a joke anymore.
Joshua laughed. “I’m sure you can.”
“Can’t you guys just be a little more supportive?” you sighed, finally leaning out of Seungcheol’s embrace. “If he breaks my heart, so be it.”
“You don’t deserve your heart broken by a fratboy with commitment issues,” Joshua told you gently. “That’s the whole thing.”
You heard a scoff from over on the sofa. “She’s not in love with you, Shua.”
Joshua’s and Seungcheol’s heads snapped up immediately, one glaring at Jeonghan and the other at you.
“Me?!” 
“LOVE?! YOU’RE IN LOVE WITH HIM???”
You vowed that if you went to jail this year, it would be for the death of Yoon Jeonghan. You hoped your glare over Seungcheol’s shoulder was enough to convey your intentions.
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“Fine, you can go on a second date with Mingyu,” Seungcheol had told you, much like a father lecturing his rebellious teenage daughter, “but only if we come along.”
And so, you went on your second date to the fair with Kim Mingyu, accompanied by one menacing bodyguard and your two mostly normal friends. And what a date it was.
Holding onto him tight as he all but cried into your shoulder, you wondered how this poor coward had even gotten this far in life. 
“It’s okay,” you told him, patting his head as you exited the haunted maze attraction. “See, we’re out already! You’re fine.”
The date had been so nice so far. He had paid for the tickets (all of them, which seemed to get him in Jeonghan’s good graces) and bought you a themed headband to wear. He had won you a bear plushie from a no-doubt rigged stand, only smiling proudly as the attendant glared and handed him the prize. The butterflies in your chest couldn’t have been more fluttery and excited than they had been this entire evening. The perfect date, 10/10, you understood why so many girls fell for the Kim Mingyu.
But then you had discovered your boyfriend’s fatal flaw: despite his imposing size and the visible definition of his muscles, he was an absolute coward. 
Though he had put on a confident act while waiting in the queue, it took him no less than two minutes to start screaming in fear and using you as a shield from the scare actors.
As you tried your hardest to comfort him, wiping the tears of fear from his cheeks and rubbing gentle circles into his back, Jeonghan was cackling behind you like a maniac, finding great joy in your boyfriend’s distress. “Are you scared of clowns, Kim Mingyu? Clowns?” 
“I’m scared of a lot of things, but clowns aren‘t one of them!” Mingyu bravely shouted at him, eyes blood-shot and throat sore from all the screaming and squealing he had done these past fifteen minutes, before his words dawned on him. “I meant–”
With a judgemental nose scrunch, Joshua nudged your side and scoffed out a short laugh before whispering, “You sure know how to pick them, huh?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” you growled at him but paid him no more attention as Mingyu grabbed onto your arm with yet another screech of fear.
“Dude,” Seungcheol sighed deeply, defeated and tired of your fair adventure, “that was just a pigeon.”
“Birds are scary,” Mingyu retorted immediately.
“Not pigeons,” Jeonghan told him with an equally exhausted sigh. “They’re about as harmful as you are. No one ever, in the history of this planet got physically attacked by a pigeon.”
“Well, actually–” Joshua began but was promptly cut off by your elbow between his ribs.
“Do you want to go somewhere else?” you asked Mingyu, squeezing his hand for comfort. “Maybe we could go eat? Or just walk around?”
He hesitated. “I was actually hoping we could– Nevermind. That’s stupid.”
“No, it’s not. Whatever it is, I’m sure it’s fun. What were you thinking?”
“... The ferris wheel?” He side-eyed your friends for the briefest moment before adding in a whisper, “Just the two of us?”
Without a moment to think about it (because god knows you’d be caught by Seungcheol), you tugged on his hand and began running towards the queue for the ferris wheel, glancing behind you to make sure they hadn’t followed you.
“What was that?” Mingyu giggled as you came to a stop. 
“You said you wanted to come, just the two of us,” you told him with a shrug and an award-winning smile. “Keep a low profile and they won’t find us.”
“Why are they here with us anyway?” he wondered before quickly correcting himself, “Not that I think they’re bad or annoying or something– It’s just that–”
You laughed and glanced through the growing crowd at where your trio of friends were looking around nearly frantically, like a pack of guard dogs trying to figure out where the sound had come from. “They’re overprotective and think you’re bad news.”
“Me?” Lips pursing into a small pout, he seemed a little dejected at the thought. “Do you?”
“Do I what?”
“Do you think I’m bad news? That I’m not good for you?”
The sadness in his beautiful brown eyes made you weak inside. You were ready to spill every truth and lie and everything in between just to make him happy again. But before you could, the staff member in charge of the wheel greeted you with a tired smile and asked for your tickets and, before you knew it, you were seated in the gondola.
You had read enough romance novels to know where this would lead.
Or so you thought, until the wheel was three metres off the ground and Mingyu was the palest you had ever seen him, eyes wide with fear as he looked at anything but the windows. 
“You good?” you asked him carefully, reaching your hand across the gondola to squeeze his knee. He didn’t answer. And then it dawned on you – the very same realization from just twenty minutes ago – your boyfriend was the dictionary definition of a coward. “... Don’t tell me you’re afraid of heights.”
Shaking a little from the fear travelling through his veins, he took a sharp breath. “I won’t.”
“But are you?”
“Yes. Deathly.”
You wanted to laugh at the irony. “You were the one that suggested we come on the ferris wheel!”
“I didn’t think it would be this bad if you’re with me!” he practically whined, eyes squeezed shut, his hand searching for yours for comfort. “I just wanted this date to be romantic for you. What good date doesn’t end with a ferris wheel ride?!”
Why was your stupid cowardly boyfriend making your heart flutter again like this? Just a few simple words that he probably hadn’t even thought through and you were melting all over again.
“Is there anything I can do to make this easier for you?” you offered. 
He shook his head. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine.”
“No, it’s not. All you’ve done today is comfort me and tell me it’s fine but, really, you must think I’m a coward and an idiot.”
Well, he wasn’t completely wrong. But it’s not like you were ever going to tell him.
“Actually, can you just tell me when we’re going down again?” he added soon after, voice cracking. He paused. “Or, well, actually don’t do that because you must already think I’m pathetic and I don’t want to ruin this for you and–”
You weren’t sure why or how, but you found yourself pressing your lips to his. His rambling cut off with a noise of surprise and before long, he leaned closer to you, still squeezing your hand with his, and nearly melted into the kiss.
When you pulled away, nose still brushing against his, he let out a shaky breath that sounded just a little bit like a laugh. “What was that for?”
“I– You–” you stuttered, unable to believe your own actions. You leaned further away from him, clearing your throat as the gondola came to a stop at the bottom of the wheel, the staff fumbling with the door to let you out. “We’re back on the ground.”
“We are?” he breathed out and finally opened his (admittedly hazy) eyes. “Oh. I guess we are.”
As you stepped out of the gondola and began on your way back towards the front gate, he linked your arms, playing with your fingers. “That wasn’t so bad.”
“You were almost crying,” you told him with a good-hearted laugh and a nudge. “Please do us both a favour and never take your date to a haunted maze or to the ferris wheel ever again.”
“Yeah, that’s probably for the best,” he laughed, sheepish.
“There you two are!” Jeonghan’s voice sounded from behind you. You turned to offer him a smile. He replied with a sarcastic one of his own before yelling as loud as he could (which, admittedly, was not very loud at all), “Cheol! Shua! I found the fools in love!”
As your trio of friends slowly gathered, you were still focused on Mingyu. The fairy lights had no right to make him look so beautiful. You were certain you would dream of him tonight. 
“The haunted maze aside,” you started, voice low as to not let your friends hear, “I enjoyed this date.”
He grinned brightly. “Me too. But I suppose everything’s just better with you.”
“Same time next week?” you half-joked. “I’ll do the planning this time though.”
“Only if you promise there won’t be any more haunted mazes,” he mumbled to cover up the fact that you had him wrapped around your fingers, wound so tight he could never think of letting go.
“It’s a date,” you laughed and kissed his cheek just as Seungcheol walked over to drag you away by your arm. “Hey!”
“It’s past your curfew,” he deadpanned while Jeonghan and Joshua snickered behind you. 
You scoffed. “I’m an adult?!”
“You snuck away with your boyfriend!” he accused, looking almost actually offended by your actions. “What adult does that? And with a frat boy of all things?”
“I think they’re cute,” Joshua argued with a kind smile, having always been the most hopeless romantic of the bunch. “He’s like a golden retriever in love.”
“Golden retriever?" Seungcheol scoffed. “He towers over all of us. He’s a great dane if anything.”
As if to prove your friends’ point, the sound of rapid footsteps echoed from the pavement. 
Always the most brave of the three, Jeonghan turned his head to take a look. He let out a disbelieving laugh. “(Y/n), your puppy’s coming with us.”
“My what?” you wondered, brows furrowing as you turned to see whatever it was he had noticed. Your heart fluttered at the sight of Mingyu running up to you with a bashful smile. 
“I–” he gasped out, struggling to breathe. 
Your friends and you were equally breathless, mostly from shock.
He took one more deep breath – all the while glaring at the starry sky as if to curse the gods for giving him such a poor lung capacity – and then turned to smile at you again, “What kind of a date would I be if I didn’t walk you to your front door?”
“One without a death wish,” you swore you heard Seungcheol mumble under his breath. But you weren’t too worried about him (he couldn’t hurt a fly even if he wanted to), especially when you had a whole Kim Mingyu running to you.
“You don’t have to–” you started.
But he shook his head and smiled a little prouder before offering his arm. “Here, I’ll keep you safe.”
“What are we? Just random street rats?” Jeonghan wondered while looking awfully amused. “You think one of you can protect her better than three of us?”
While Mingyu looked like he wanted the ground to swallow him whole, red ears and all, you came to his defence with a discerning stare directed at your three friends. You shrugged. “I certainly feel safer with him.”
With a pained groan and a hand to his chest as if to will his heart to stop hurting, Jeonghan grabbed Seungcheol by the arm. “C’mon, great dane, he’s clearly got it covered.”
Seungcheol blinked at him, baffled. “You’re not seriously thinking of– Jeonghan! We can’t just leave them!”
You gave your best friend a begging look. As much as you could never admit it to Seungcheol, you longed for more time with Mingyu. And if it was just the two of you? You were giddy at just the prospect of it.
“I’ll pay for your pizza,” Jeonghan offered begrudgingly, sending you one last warning glare before practically dragging Seungcheol away. Joshua – much to your joy – was happier to leave you with your new boyfriend, only giving you one last hug and a wave goodbye before following the others and joining in their banter.
You looked up to find Mingyu staring after them in utter surprise. “They actually left us alone? Willingly?”
“I guess so,” you feigned coyness. “So, you’re walking me home then?”
“Most happily,” he agreed before shrugging off his jacket and – to the detriment of your poor fluttering heart – draped it over your shoulders. “There, now you’ll be warm.”
“You didn’t have to–”
“I wanted to,” he interrupted with a sweet smile before offering you his arm again.
You swallowed the butterflies threatening to break out and linked your arm with his with a shy smile. And so, side by side, you walked to your home. The conversation was almost nonexistent as you simply enjoyed each other’s presence in the silence of the night. 
“Can I ask something?” Mingyu suddenly broke the blissful quiet air.
You hummed in agreement.
He took a deep calming breath before blurting, “Why me?”
“... What?”
“Why me?” he repeated himself a little more certainly. “Why would you choose me as your boyfriend? 
There was another moment of silence. How could one tell someone as loving and sweet as Mingyu that you were dating him only because of a stupid joke? A small bet that was never meant to go further than a sentence of a prank and five minutes of confusion? You feared you’d shatter his heart.
But still you had to come clean eventually. 
It was funny really, you thought, that a week or two ago, you wouldn’t have hesitated to answer at all. You would’ve laughed it off and told him it was just a silly joke and to not take it so seriously. You would’ve texted the group chat telling Jeonghan he owed you another Snickers bar for the humiliation of having to explain yourself to a fratboy.
And today your heart hurt at the idea of breaking his.
Mirroring his earlier preparations, you took a deep breath to ease your nerves and calm your heart before answering, “It was Jeonghan who picked you.”
“For you to date?” Mingyu wondered, brows furrowing in confusion. “That’s a little odd, I suppose, but–”
“No, it was– It was a bet. At first.” You didn’t dare to look at him as you spoke. (And if you had, you would’ve seen his facade of confidence crack just a little.) “We were just at the library and Jeonghan bet me a coke and a Snickers bar to tell you… what I told you that day. I wasn’t– You– We weren’t ever supposed to meet again. Well, maybe as a passing glance in the hallway or something, but not like this. It wasn’t meant to be serious.”
“Oh.” You didn’t need to look at him to know how dejected he must have felt.
“But!” you rushed to mend his heart, “But then I got to know you and you made me lunch and you smiled at me all pretty and you spoke to me even when I was being weird and mean– Look,” you stopped mid-step and grabbed his wrist to stop him as well, forcing him to face you before you spoke with as much conviction as you could muster up, “this whole thing might have started because Jeonghan offered me candy, but I swear on everything that I hold dear that… that I really like you. I’ve come to really like you so much, Mingyu. 
“I can’t imagine a day without you anymore. When you miss our lectures, I spend all day worrying something happened to you. When you don’t smile, I want to go and kick whoever made you sad or mad. I just really love you a lot – even if it wasn’t so at first. Okay?”
“Okay,” he whispered, nodding slowly, his eyes glimmering a little. “I mean… I always guessed you didn’t say those things because you actually felt something for me and–” He paused, eyes clearing, brows furrowing, ears tinting red. “Did you just say you love me?”
“I– You– What? No,” you laughed and felt nervous all of a sudden. 
You couldn’t have!? 
… Could you?
His dejected puppy-eyes became cheerful half-moons as he grinned widely. “You did! You love me!”
You weren’t sure you had enough proof to argue, so you kept quiet and prayed he wouldn’t see right through you. You hadn’t meant to let those words slip so early. You hadn’t meant to even feel this way. But you couldn’t lie and argue.
“Hey, if it makes you feel better,” Mingyu leaned closer to speak softly, “I’ve been thinking about how I love you too.” He let out a sheepish laugh. “Really, I was worried I’d be too forward and scare you away if I told you that already. I mean, it’s only our – what? – second date?”
“You really do fall hard and fast, huh?” you wondered out loud. 
He scoffed. “Who told you that?”
“My friends.”
He crossed his arms over his chest. “I’ll have you know that you’re the first I’ve felt this way about.
“Yeah?” You pursed your lips in thought. “If that��s true, then you should kiss me right now.”
Mingyu chuckled and shook his head. “I fear that might be a little too forward.”
“Really?” You quirked a brow. “And a  love confession on the second date isn’t?”
“You’re the one who started it! Besides,” he linked your arms and led you to keep walking towards your home, “I’m a little scared of your friends and I’m pretty sure the one with big muscles will kick my ass if I don’t take you on at least two more dates before I kiss you.”
You weren’t entirely sure he was joking.
“Fine,” you sighed, defeated in the game of love. “But those two dates better be great. I’m speaking five-star restaurant, dinner and a concert by the seaside, watching The Titanic in the moonlight kind of romantic.”
“I’ve got it, don’t worry, baby,” he assured you and gave you a quick kiss on the cheek.
Baby. You had to physically hold back from smiling and blushing all giddy. 
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generalsmemories · 9 months ago
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sensitive
✧ sunday x gn!reader
✧ synopsis: the wings by his ears are far too sensitive for what you're both about to do to them.
✧ contents: just a lil scenario for the piercings on sunday's wings. and the hc (that has probs become every writers canon take) that his wings are oh so sensitive. established relationship, mildly suggestive cause why not, uhh, mentions of blood? sunday being utterly weak against his lover. ooc sunday cause goddamn i have NOTHING on this man.
✧ a/n: breathes in. listen i don't believe in any god but good lord i would start praying for this man if he asked me to.
jing yuan wips still in order, i just want to be on my best self mentally when writing for my eepy general so have this brainrot so i can function this week at my work and hopefully i'll write something more <3 thank you once again for your patience!
NOT BETA-READ THIS WAS WRITTEN WITHIN AN HOUR CAUSE THIS BRAINROT HAS BEEN BREWING INSIDE THE MIND FOR A MONTH, IM SORRY FOR THE ALL OVER THE PLACE WORDS - I HAVEN'T WRITTEN SINCE THE LAST JING YUAN ANGST PIECE.
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Your fingertips have barely grazed the very edges of the feathers when the distinguished leader beneath you flinches in surprise. The fingers that grip your hips tightening further which causes your body that was previously hovering above him to settle down on Sunday's leg. You can hear a tiny sigh leaving his lips before you feel his head rest against your shoulder, the action causing you to chuckle.
"The longer you delay this, the more nervous you'll get, you know?" you muse, threading your fingers through his hair in an effort to coax him to lay back in the same position he previously was in. You're barely able to touch his right wing again before a gloved hand shoots up from his side and you feel a sharp nip at your neck in warning - causing you to immediately halt all of your actions.
"It would've gone a lot faster have you decided to not do it in such an orthodox method, dear." Sunday retaliates with a sigh, pecking the bite mark as some sort of apology, an apology that you knew was not sincere in the slightest.
You giggle once again, settling down comfortably on his legs whilst slightly leaning back to fully look at your lover. Your arms loop over his neck while cocking your head to the side in slight confusion, although said confusion doesn't reach your mischievous eyes or the huge grin on your face. "Why I thought this would help calm you? It was your idea to pierce these wings of yours after all," you remind him, tapping the piercing gun that you're currently holding onto on his shoulder.
The man before you sighs, seemingly in exasperation over your usual antics whilst shrugging away the piercing gun that you're continuously tapping him with. You can however clearly see the slight reddening on top of his ears, while his wings tuck a bit behind his ears - clearly a signal that he's feeling a bit embarrassed.
"You're well aware of the effect you have on me, my love." he admits, the hand on your hip moving from its spot to instead rest against your neck. "Hmm? Then I suggest that you hurry along to let me pierce your wings before said effect makes you lose your patience," you tease with a quiet laugh. "I do have a lot of experience with this lil' gun of ours after all." you cheekily say - causing Sunday to direct his gaze towards your own ears, which have a few more piercings than your average person.
"... I'm well aware." Sunday replies.
Well aware of how sensitive your own ears are, almost as sensitive as his own wings that have yet to be pierced. He could let out a breath beside them which causes you to tremble, a small peck would make you gasp softly, but if he were to use his tongue-
"You're thinking of inappropriate things again, dear." you mutter into his ears before unlooping your arms from his neck to rest against your sides, your whole weight supported by the singular hand Sunday has on your hip.
"Hardly."
For someone not of Halovian descent, you're somehow able to discern his thoughts immediately - quite a hassle to be honst.
"Well then, my dear? Why don't you relax so we can get this over with so you can return to your duties?" you whisper, moving your body to sit between his legs so that you can get a closer look on his right wing, where he preferred the piercing to be on.
"... Just- don't say anything when you're about to do- Ah!"
The single clicking noise of the needle piercing his wing before retracting back to it's original spot makes Sunday jolt in surprise, the grip on your hip increasing in pressure, but you're too busy looking at the placement in glee to care for your distraught lover right now.
You notice the edges of the piercing reddening a bit, extending your finger to gather the tiny bits of blood that had escaped from the wound. Glancing at Sunday, you notice his slightly glossy eyes that immediately diverts from your gaze.
The quiet laugh you let out makes Sunday glare at you, but his eyes widen slightly when you lick his blood away from your fingertips with closed eyes. "It wasn't that bad, was it?" you ask, opening your eyes again to lock eyes with Sunday, diverting your gaze slightly to his right wing.
You decide not to comment on his glossy eyes, deciding to instead scoot closer to peck the corner of his eyes, "Sorry that I surprised you, but as you said - Doing it this way is far more convenient for the both of us," you explain, lips pressing against Sunday's to coax him into relaxation.
"Mhm, thank you for indulging me, dove." he whispers, arms wrapping around your waist, the tension in his shoulders finally leaving.
"Although..." you murmur in between various pecks against Sunday's lips, your lover raising an eyebrow up in confusion and imploring you to continue speaking.
"I think you said you would go for 2 of the same piercings if the first one looked nice, no?" you say before pressing your lips against his once again. Sunday was barely able to understand the meaning behind your words before he could feel the same pain of the needle shoot through his already overly-sensitive wing.
The loud gasp he lets out is swallowed by your lips, his open mouth letting your tongue slip inside while the piercing gun in your hand slips away from your lips now that you've done your part of the deal. Your hands settle themselves against Sunday's cheeks now- wiping away the few tears that have now slipped down from his glossy eyes with your thumb.
There's a certain desperation in Sunday's hands by your waist. He had first bunched the material of your clothes upwards by surprise, but now he's slipping his gloved hands beneath them and quickly traveling further up - he moves in a way that you don't know if he's trying to push you away to scold you, or press you closer to him to feel your warmth.
He eventually decides to push you away. His cheeks are reddened and he's heaving for breaths while he's glaring down at you in mild disappointment and a hint of excitement - and yet the hands that's dragging the buttons of your shirt from inside to snap them open tells another desire from the esteemed leader of Penacony.
The same mischievous smile is present on your lips when you part ways, your lips are a bit swollen but it doesn't stop their journey from grazing against his now incredibly sensitive right wing, the jerk of his entire body not bothering you in the slightest as your lips glide over his feathers, your lover shuddering a bit when you let out a breath right over his newly pierced wings.
"All done now, my love," you mutter into his ear, shrugging off your now ruined shirt off of one shoulder, "Do I get any reward for doing this so smoothly and quickly?"
Sunday lets out a scoff, rolling his eyes at your triumphant expression before shoving you down onto the couch the two of you were previously resting on. "I'm thinking a punishment is more fitting for how you didn't warn me of your actions twice, no?"
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solarmorrigan · 11 months ago
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I'm late, I'm sorry, but here's the full fic from this WIP post yesterday!
[CW: bullying, references to canon racism and violence, mentions of recreational drug use]
-
Steve makes it to the bathroom down the hall from the shop classroom—the one that’s far from the cafeteria and always empty during lunch, where people really only come to smoke, anyway—before he completely loses his shit.
“Son of a bitch!” He’s almost screaming as he hauls off and punches the wall of one of the bathroom stalls, putting every ounce of anger and frustration and humiliation into it, hitting it so hard that the whole construction rattles.
“Motherfucker,” he hisses, shaking his hand out, because it had hurt, and then he winds up to do it again, to make it hurt more, because at least he’s in control of that much, at least it’s anything but what he’s feeling right now.
“That’s a good way to break your hand, y’know,” a voice comes from the doorway, startling Steve into pivoting and aiming his fist at whoever is coming after him now.
He stops short when he sees nobody but Eddie goddamn Munson standing there, cringing into a startled flinch to protect his head as Steve nearly swings at him.
“Jesus shit,” Steve barks, dropping his fist and stepping back, shaky with adrenaline. “You walk like a fucking ghost, Munson.”
Munson peeks out of his defensive crouch before straightening up and sending a meaningful glance at the stall wall. “Somehow, I don’t think you would’ve heard me even if I was making all the noise in the world.”
Steve shrugs, his shoulders staying up near his ears in a defensive slouch. He can feel something dropping out of his hair and down the side of his face, and he feels the humiliation all over again as he tries to swipe it away.
“What do you want?” he asks, beyond caring if he sounds rude; he thinks he’s entitled, considering.
This time, Munson shrugs, a rolling, casual thing that belies the sharp look in his eyes. “Came to see if you were okay, I guess.”
Steve snorts. Is he okay?
Like, in the grand scheme of things, the answer is a really shaky “maybe.” But lately? It’s more of a resounding “no, not fucking really.”
Aside from everything else – aside from the nightmares, aside from the headaches, aside from the fact he’d had to drop basketball after his concussion, aside from having no real friends or allies at school now that he and Nancy aren’t together – aside from all that, there’s Billy fucking Hargrove.
Hargrove, who had taken all of a month to start pushing Steve’s buttons again. Who had taken less than a few days after that to realize that Steve wasn’t going to push back.
And then he’d started looking for the boundary line, pushing and pushing, shoulder-checking Steve in the hall, tripping him in the single class they share, knocking shit out of his hands, shoving him when his back is turned, all the while spitting names and insults, until it had culminated into today’s fiasco: dumping a carton of chocolate milk over the top of Steve’s head in the middle of the cafeteria with a deeply unconvincing “oops.”
It had gone dead silent, every eye in the room on Steve’s red face and Hargrove’s triumphant grin, while Steve had only been able to stand there, shaking with startled rage as milk had sluiced out of his hair and seeped into his collar and down the back of his shirt, knowing that he couldn’t retaliate.
He couldn’t.
He’d marched out of the cafeteria, shame and anger growing as voices had bloomed up behind him, already gossiping and speculating.
So, no, actually, he’s not really okay.
But instead of saying any of this to Munson, he just scoffs and turns away, looking towards the sinks.
“Wouldn’t have expected you to care,” he says, injecting as much lazy indifference into his voice as he can, trying to armor up the way he used to. “The number of speeches you’ve given about how much me and my group suck, I’d have figured you’d be the first to say I deserved it.”
Munson doesn’t say anything for a moment, and Steve doesn’t look back to see if the barb landed. He doesn’t really care, he just wants the guy to go away so Steve can finish his meltdown and clean up in peace.
“Not your group anymore, though,” Munson finally says.
Steve shrugs, pulling a wad of paper towels from the dispenser; might as well move on to cleanup if Munson isn’t going to fuck off. He guesses his little breakdown can wait until he gets home.
“Hasn’t been for over a year, now, right?” Munson goes on. Steve says nothing, using a dry paper towel to try to blot up the mess. “And whatever you were like then, you’re… less like that now. Like, anyone paying attention can see you’re kinda trying something new this year.”
Steve ignores the way that makes something catch in his throat. “Thanks for the endorsement,” he drawls. “I’ll put it on my college apps: Not as much of an asshole as I used to be.”
“It’s a start,” Munson says, and Steve glances up in time to see him shrug in the mirror.
“I guess,” Steve mutters.
“And, uh – hey, I grabbed your stuff,” Munson says, holding up the binder and notebooks that Steve’s attention had glossed over until now. “Some of it’s kinda… milky, sorry.”
Steve blinks. “Uh. Thank you,” he says, stunned for a moment into sincerity.
Munson shrugs again, putting Steve’s stuff up on the narrow shelf on the wall that no one ever uses to hold things because it’s probably never been cleaned. Not like Steve’s stuff is clean now, anyway.
Steve turns back to the sink, wetting a few of the paper towels and waiting to see if Munson is going to leave now.
“What I can’t figure out–” nope, apparently he’s staying, “–is why you’re in here punching the wall, instead of out there, punching Hargrove.”
At least that makes more sense; he’s here out of curiosity, not concern.
“I mean, most people would’ve hit him for that,” Munson goes on. “I would’ve.”
But Steve’s already shaking his head before Munson’s finished speaking. “Not worth it,” he says firmly.
“What, afraid of a little suspension?” Munson asks, almost teasing. “Pretty sure the school would let their golden boy off with a slap on the wrist.”
“Not anybody’s golden boy anymore,” Steve snaps, scrubbing a wet paper towel through his hair in a vain attempt to get some of the rapidly-drying milk out. “I dropped basketball, remember? Didn’t even go in for swimming this year.”
“Oh, yeah,” Munson says, like he’d genuinely forgotten. “Sorry, not really into the whole… sports scene. Like, at all.”
Steve shrugs. “Whatever. Not important. I don’t give a shit about being suspended. I don’t even care if he hits me back. Not like I need another knock to the head at this point, but – whatever.” Steve shakes his head. “It’s just that he could– there are other things he could do.”
In the mirror, Munson’s eyebrows go up. “What, does he have blackmail on you or some shit?”
Steve raises his brows right back. “If he did, do you really think I’d tell you?”
Munson tips his head to the side. “Yeah, okay, fair enough.”
“Anyway, he doesn’t have blackmail, he has… leverage, I guess.” Steve lets out a harsh sigh and gives up on his hair for now, wetting a paper towel to try to get some of the milk off his face and neck, instead.
“…are you allowed to tell me what that is?” Munson asks after a moment.
And for a moment, Steve thinks about it. The only people in school who really know are Nancy and Jonathan, and he’s asked them to follow his lead in just – not talking about it. He hasn’t told anybody any version of what happened in the Byers’ house, or why Billy seems to have made him his personal stress ball. But who the hell would Munson tell? All his nerdy friends in his game club?
(No, no, that’s not fair. Steve doesn’t even know those people, and he’s trying not to be that guy anymore. He doesn’t have to be nice, but he shouldn’t be unkind.)
(The point stands, though – who would Munson even tell?)
“Do you know why Hargrove beat my face in back in November?” Steve finally asks, avoiding Munson’s eyes in the mirror by focusing very hard on getting the tacky milk off his hairline.
“Well, I’ve heard most of the rumors by now, I think. Heard Hargrove’s version of events, as has pretty much everyone, I’m sure. Haven’t heard yours, though,” Munson says, his voice tilting up in interest. “I just figured it was because he hated you.”
Steve lets out a humorless laugh. “Yeah, well, you’re not wrong. But also…” He pauses for a moment, collecting his thoughts. “There are these kids I babysit. Sort of.”
“Sort of?” Munson presses.
“Well, most of the time it feels like they’re just ordering me around like a bunch of entitled shitheads. But I make sure they get where they’re going without, like, disappearing, and that they don’t have so much unsupervised time that they manage to get themselves killed,” Steve admits.
“Uh huh,” Munson says; he sounds… a little confused, but not disbelieving. “And you ended up with this gig, how?”
“It’s Nancy’s little brother, and his little nerd friends,” Steve says (he’s allowed to call them nerds because he knows them, and it’s true. And besides, it’s affectionate).
“Aaand you’re still doing it now? Even though you and Wheeler aren’t…”
Steve shrugs. “They grew on me. But that’s– that’s not the point. One of the kids is, uh. Hargrove’s stepsister. And the night me and Hargrove got into it, I guess she wasn’t supposed to be out.”
“Ah,” Munson says.
“Yeah.” Steve sighs, giving up on the milk as a bad job; he probably should’ve run off to the gym showers instead of a shitty bathroom. He turns and leans back against the sink, crossing his arms over his chest and staring at the floor near Munson’s scuffed sneakers. “So he came looking for her.”
“So… Not that I’m advocating handing over children to pieces of shit like him, but – like, wouldn’t it have been the technically correct thing to do, to send her home with what is legally a family member?” Munson asks.
Steve passes a hand over his face. “She was terrified,” he says quietly, feeling a little like he’s betraying Max’s trust by saying it out loud, by saying it to a stranger. “She was terrified of what he would do if he found her there, where she wasn’t supposed to be. Terrified of what he would do to one of the other kids if he caught them together, since he’d specifically warned her to stay away from him.”
“What’s wrong with this other kid?” Munson asks, brows furrowed.
“Nothing,” Steve bites out. “He’s smart, and he’s brave, and he’s, like, slightly less of an asshole than some of the others, but what Hargrove cared about is that he’s black.”
“You’re fucking kidding me,” Munson snaps, and Steve’s hackles raise, ready to defend his kid all over again if he has to, but before he can get anything else out, Munson goes on. “We already knew he was a racist piece of shit, but – a fucking kid?”
Steve subsides. “Yeah. A fucking kid. So I told them all to stay inside and I went out to try to head him off. Or at least keep him out of the house. Which, obviously, I failed at.” He lets out a derisive little laugh, aimed solely at himself. “He knocked me on my ass, knocked the wind out of me, got past me– and by the time I was able to get up, he was already– he was inside, and he had that kid by the collar, up against the wall– one of my fucking kids–” Steve breaks off, the same rage and terror from that night choking up in his throat again. After the day he’s had, his emotions are all too close to the surface, too near to bubbling out, and he rubs at his nose, trying to stave off the angry, exhausted tears he can feel pricking at the corners of his eyes. “So I decked him.”
“Good!” Munson exclaims, and for a moment Steve actually manages a real smile.
“Yeah,” he says. “Then he hit me back, which, like, obviously. I was expecting him to, but– I mean, I might’ve actually won that fight if the fucker hadn’t hit me in the head with a plate.”
The expression that crosses Munson’s face is almost comically shocked. “What?”
“Yeah,” Steve says again, running a hand over his jaw, thumbing almost unconsciously at the still-fading scar where the porcelain had sliced him open. “I’m a little fuzzy on shit after that. Like, I remember being on the floor, and him kneeling over me, and hitting me, and hitting me, and then– I dunno, nothing.”
Distantly, Steve realizes that the expression on Munson’s face has turned from ‘comically shocked’ to ‘mildly horrified,’ but he’s a little too lost in the blurry memory of that night to do much about it.
“Holy shit, how are you not dead?” Munson blurts out.
He looks like he immediately regrets asking, but Steve finds he’s actually grateful for the question. He’s glad to move the conversation along.
“Max.” He smirks over at Eddie. “Hargrove’s stepsister. I guess she, uh– threatened him with a baseball bat? Saved my ass.”
That’s a deep over-simplification, but Steve can’t think of a way to explain the presence of heavy sedatives in the Byers’ house, and, anyway, she had threatened him with a baseball bat. The kids had all taken great joy in reenacting the way Max had nearly neutered Hargrove with the nailbat, actually; it’s almost like Steve had been there (and conscious).
“Holy shit,” Munson says, and whichever part he’s referring to, Steve is inclined to agree.
“Yep. So I was out fucking cold at the time, but the kids all insist that she got him to agree to leave her and her friends alone, but…” Steve shakes his head. “Hargrove is a fucking psychopath. I don’t trust him to keep that promise. So, at least if he’s focused on me, he might leave her alone. But if I hit back…”
“You think he’ll retaliate by going after one of your kids,” Munson says, only a hint of teasing in his words at the end.
“I know he will,” Steve says; Hargrove had implied as much more than once. He crosses his arms back over his chest. “And they are my kids.”
Munson throws his hands up, as if in surrender, but he’s definitely smiling now.
“I’m serious,” Steve insists, close to smiling himself. “They think I’m stuck with them, but they’re the ones stuck with me.”
“Lucky them,” Munson says, and– what?
“What?” Steve asks.
“Look, you’re either a better actor than, like, everyone in the drama club, or you at least seriously believe what you told me, which is more than I can say for Hargrove and whatever shit he came up with about the two of you getting into it over… what, his car was better than yours? He’s better at laundry ball? I don’t fucking remember, and it doesn’t really matter, because it was clearly and pathetically fabricated,” Munson says with an authoritative nod. “You, at the very least, really give a shit about those kids. So, yeah. Lucky them.”
“Well,” Steve scrambles for a moment, trying to cover the way he actually feels like he might start fucking blushing, “if I’d known all I had to do to change your mind about me was tell you about a fight I lost, I’d have done it ages ago.”
And now Munson’s back to smirking at him. “Seeking my esteem that badly, Harrington?”
“What? No. I mean – not– not specifically yours, it’s just… like, there’s not really an easy or fast way to make up for being kind of a dick for the last… while.” Steve runs his hand through his hair, stopping with a grimace when he remembers the drying milk. “You just have to keep not being a dick and hope people give you a chance. So, like, compared to that, convincing you was easy.”
“And all you had to do was get a severe concussion first,” Munson drawls.
Steve rolls his eyes. “I didn’t say it was severe.”
“You got hit with a plate,” Munson deadpans, and Steve can’t quite help the resulting flinch, at which Munson almost immediately softens. “Sorry.”
Steve shakes his head. “It’s fine.”
Mouth screwed to the side, Munson eyes Steve for a moment, glancing over his shirt and up to his face before gesturing at him. “You want some help with that?”
Steve blinks at him. “What?”
“Your whole… hair situation. You could bend ov– like, you could lean over the sink and I could, uh. Try to rinse it for you. Or whatever,” Munson offers, awkward but apparently sincere.
It sounds like a stupid as hell way to try to rinse his hair. The sinks are small, and not exactly high off the ground; Steve would have better luck just going to the locker room and showering it all out. His soap is there, too, and an extra shirt.
On the other hand, Steve really doesn’t feel like leaving the bathroom yet. He’s pretty sure lunch is going to end soon, and encountering everyone during passing period sounds like a nightmare. In here, with Munson, it’s quiet. It feels almost safe.
“Yeah, sure,” Steve finally says, and Munson looks nearly shocked that he’s accepted.
Credit to him, though: he doesn’t back out. He just slides his jacket off, tosses it up over the wall of one of the bathroom stalls, rolls up his sleeves, and gestures for Steve to lean over the sink.
“Hot or cold?” he asks, going for the taps.
“Hot,” Steve answers immediately; he doesn’t need any other cold liquid on his head today.
“Hm.”
“What?”
“Nothing,” Munson says airily, turning on the water. “You just kinda strike me as a cold shower guy. Like, up at dawn, go for a run, take a cold shower – all that weird jock shit.”
It isn’t intended to mock, Steve realizes as Munson tests the water temperature—the school pipes take forever to heat up—but to tease. It’s a joke, and Steve is invited in on it. And anyway, it’s… actually kind of close to the mark, so Steve doesn’t say anything at all for a moment as he puts his head as close to the faucet as he can get it and Munson places one cupped hand over the back of his neck and uses the other to scoop water over Steve’s hair.
“Cold water is better for your hair. Not that you’d know anything about that.” Steve finally says, hoping that his own teasing tone carries even with the way he has to raise his voice to be heard over the running water.
Luckily, Munson sounds amused when he answers. “Oh! Shots fucking fired. I see how it is!” Even as he’s pretending at being offended, his fingers stay gentle against Steve’s scalp as he tries to scrub out the dried mess, and Steve fights very, very hard not to shudder.
He can’t remember when the last time someone touched him with gentle intent was. Maybe he’d gotten a hug from Dustin last week?
Shit, that’s fucking pathetic.
He tries even harder not to lean into the touch, into the surprisingly kind hands on the back of his neck and on his scalp, tries hard not to act like some kind of touch-starved weirdo and make Munson regret offering to help.
The irony of the fact that Steve is trying not to act like a freak in front of Eddie Munson is not lost on him.
After another couple of minutes of Munson manipulating Steve’s head this way and that, doing his best to be thorough, he lets Steve go entirely and shuts the water off.
“That’s probably as good as I’m gonna be able to get it,” he says, pushing another handful of paper towels at Steve as he stands up.
“Better than I could’ve done here,” Steve says with a shrug, rubbing the paper towels over his hair and grimacing as he can feel it frizzing in about a hundred different directions.
When he finishes, he turns to look in the mirror, watching in real time as it droops over his forehead and tickles at his wet shirt collar. Munson stands next to him, watching without judgement, but with what feels like an inappropriate amount of fascination.
“Well, I’m not going to lie to you,” Munson says at last, “you look a little like a sad, wet dog.”
Steve’s eyes snap to Munson with a glare. “Gee, thanks.”
“Some people are into that!” Munson insists, holding his hands up placatingly. “That droopy aesthetic, with the big, brown puppy eyes. Someone might just wanna scoop you up and take you home to take care of you. It’s a thing.”
Do you want to? – the question comes immediately and unbidden to Steve’s head, and he quickly shakes it away. They might be on amiable terms right now, teasing each other a little, but he isn’t sure that wouldn’t be a bridge too far.
(He isn’t even sure it is teasing. For a moment, he’d had the genuine urge to ask.)
“Anyway, I think most of the mess is out of your hair, but I’m pretty sure your shirt is toast,” Munson goes on, gesturing to the brown stain around the collar, over one shoulder, and probably down the back.
If he’d been wearing a darker color today, it might’ve been alright, but of course today he’d chosen light blue. Steve sighs, plucking at the front of the shirt. If he can’t salvage it, he might as well ditch it; it’s getting uncomfortably stiff and tacky with the dried milk, and he’d honestly rather stick it out in his undershirt for as long as it takes him to get to the locker room than walk around with evidence of Hargrove’s little stunt all over him.
He untucks the shirt and yanks it over his head, no need to be careful of his hair, emerging from the depths of it to find Munson staring at him in a stunned sort of silence.
“What?” Steve asks. “If it’s wrecked, anyway, I might as well get rid of it. I’ve got a spare shirt in my gym locker I can go grab.”
Munson blinks at him, almost like he’s trying to clear his head. “Or!” he practically shouts – possibly louder than he meant to, since he continues more quietly, “Or, you could just ditch for the rest of the day. I mean, you have any particularly interesting classes after lunch you feel the need to attend?”
“Not really,” Steve admits with a huff of a laugh. “But leaving after that feels a little like– letting Hargrove win. Like I’m retreating or some shit.”
“Nah, don’t think of it like that.” Munson tosses an arm over Steve shoulders, waving his other in front of both of them, like he’s trying to show Steve a grand vision and they aren’t both just staring at the ugly tile on the bathroom wall. “Think of it as cutting class and getting free weed from Hawkins High’s most esteemed dealer.”
Steve turns to look at Munson, staring at him more closely than he’s ever had reason to, and realizing there are tiny freckles on his face. “What, seriously?”
“Sure.” Munson shrugs. “Lemme smoke you out, Harrington. Seems like a good way to let your stress go for a bit – though I am just a little biased.”
“Why?” Steve asks; he doesn’t understand the sudden turn this day has taken, the sudden and bizarre kindness offered that he doesn’t even know what he’s done to deserve.
Munson’s eyes slide away from Steve, though his arm notably stays draped over his shoulders. “Been where you are. It’s not great. And, I mean, if it had happened last year, then, admittedly, I probably wouldn’t have given as much of a shit. Jock on jock violence, whatever. But you,” he glances back at Steve, “you’re genuinely trying to be, like, a good person. And I don’t think you should be punished for that. I think, in fact, that you could probably use a friend.”
“I…” The words stick in Steve’s throat, because what the hell can he even say to that? On anyone else, Steve would have assumed an ulterior motive, but Munson had infused it with so much awkward sincerity that Steve can’t help but realize it’s probably the nicest thing anyone’s said or offered to do for him in… he’s not even sure how long.
His silence must stretch on a little too long, though, because the hopeful light in Munson’s eyes fades a bit, and he begins to slide his arm off of Steve’s shoulder. “Or, y’know, you can tell me to fuck off, because I’m, like, way overstepping some boundaries, and–”
“We should go to my place,” Steve blurts, while grabbing Munson’s wrist for some insane reason.
“What?” Munson blinks over at him, (understandably) startled.
“My place. We should go there to smoke. If you still want to.” Steve could cringe for how stilted the whole thing is coming out. “I want to be able to take a real shower.”
Munson stares at him for a moment longer before laying a hand over his heart with a gasp, suddenly leaning heavily into Steve’s side and forcing Steve to wrap an arm around his waist so they don’t both lose their balance.
“I see how it is!” Munson gasps dramatically. “My sink shower just wasn’t good enough!”
Steve holds in a laugh. “Your sink shower was… fine. But I’ve got milk dried in other uncomfortable places, so unless you want to wash my back for me, too, we should go back to mine.”
Munson’s gaze snaps back to Steve, something a little odd in it, and – oh. Oh, that hadn’t sounded quite like Steve had meant it. It had sounded a little like an offer of the kind you don’t go around making to just anybody.
Steve braces himself, waiting for the reaction (he doubts if Munson would get any kind of physical, but there will probably be an awkward pulling away and sudden remembering of something he has to do literally anywhere else that afternoon), but all Munson does is break into a sly smile and say, “I could, but I’d have to charge you extra.”
Steve can’t help it: he laughs, giving Munson a good-natured shove, who finally releases Steve but doesn’t stumble more than a couple of steps away.
“Meet you at my place?” Steve offers, balling up his shirt and dropping it on top of his notebooks as he grabs them from the shelf. “Half an hour?”
“Wouldn’t miss it.” Munson gives him a corny little salute before grabbing his jacket from over the stall wall and preceding Steve to the bathroom door.
“Munson,” Steve finds himself calling out, just as the other boy’s hand closes around the door handle; Munson glances back and Steve fights the urge to look away. “Uh. Thanks. For, like… yeah. Thanks.”
Whatever meaning Munson takes out of Steve’s absolutely eloquent verbal vomit of gratitude, it makes him smile. “No need for thanks, man,” he says. “I’m honestly a little surprised to say it, but the pleasure was definitely mine.”
And then he disappears out the door, leaving Steve in the bathroom wondering how the hell his day had taken this turn, and just what destination it’s leading him to.
And thinking that he’s honestly a little excited to find out.
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gilverrwrites · 4 months ago
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Summer Loving
Ft. Bruce, Dick, Jason, Roy, & Tim.
AN: Have a lot of lengthy and/or smutty wips on the go atm and I can feel them bogging me down a bit, so I decided to take a break and work on some short summer themed slice of life/domestic fluff to cleanse my palate. I feel I must apologise for my gratuitous and obvious Roy Harper thirst but I wont, enjoy!
CWs: Some are more suggestive than others, reader discretion advised. Minor swearing and minors swearing, mentions of alcohol. GN! Reader
Bruce: Tan Lines
It’s moments like these where you wish Bruce didn’t have to spend his nights on the endless pursuit of justice. You knew what you’d signed up for, but you’d missed him all day and god, the feel of his strong fingers massaging after sun into your skin was euphoric. Would you be such a bad guy for trying to convince him to stay home?
“I like this.” His hum pulls you from your train of thought, and you look down to see his fingers trailing against the tan line your shorts had caused. He spares you a quick suggestive glance, the look a wolf might give a rabbit it’s particularly fond of before dipping down to replace his hands with his mouth.
“Ohhh, stay home tonight Brucie?” The look he gives you this time maintains its warmth but there’s an air of warning to it. Despite his simmering combativeness, you add a charming “Please?”
To that he lifts his head, just far enough to deny you of his lips, but close enough that his low voice still seems to reverberate through your body as he speaks. “Crime doesn’t take the night off, neither can I.”
“I know.” You sigh, admitting defeat before the battle has even begun, and he rewards you by assuming his barrage of kisses to your lower body.
“Just don’t go out too early.” You advise, trailing the tip of your finger from ear to ear, estimating the line where his Batman cowl ends. “Don’t want to get any tan lines of your own.”
“Trust me.” There’s humour in his tone now as he works his way upwards, ghosting his 5 o'clock shadow along the skin of your stomach as he prowls closer. “The evening is young, and I have plans for you yet.”
Dick: A/C
The A/C is broken. Again. To combat the heat the whole household has resorted to wearing nothing but their underwear, except of course for Haley who is always naked. Lucky dog.
Additionally, all the windows are open in an attempt to let the cool night air circulate the humid apartment but all it’s really doing is letting in the ambient sound of Blüdhavens boisterous nightlife and countless flies.
“Want one?” Dick asks from the kitchen spaces as he digs into his second ice pop since dinner, you joke about envying his metabolism despite knowing damn well that’s not the real reason for his physique. Although between the food and the heat-induced skipped workout, he’s bloating, just a little bit; the tiniest, most delicious bit of plumpness and you can’t take your eyes off of it. “Are you checking me out?”
“Always.” You reply with a brazen smile, continuing your laser-focused stare even as he begins approaching your spot on the couch.
“How about you stop looking and start touching, huh baby?”
“No.” You finally cease your objectification of his stomach to look him in the eyes. The intended sternness in your tone is stifled by the way his icy confection has turned his lips blue. “I already told you, no sex in this heat until the air con is fixed.”
Despite your posturing, you don’t fight his closing proximity, nor do you stop him from dragging his cool-raspberry-stained tongue along the length of your throat, it’s still cold from the half-eaten lolly and the sensation sends a welcome chill through your body. As inefficient as it may be, you much prefer this method of cooling down to an A/C.
Jason: Sunrise
The metal grate of your fire escape is surprisingly cool against your bare feet. It’s early, pre-sunrise early but the air is still thick, a combination of the arid summer heat and steam of the cities underground. Despite the unpleasant temperature, you settle onto the grill, with nothing but a pillow for comfort and two ice-cold glasses of lemonade.   
When 15 minutes pass, and you start to notice a growing tinge of orangeness in the sky, you start to worry you’re being stood up, or worse; something awful has happened. Something that would prevent him from coming home, but then you hear it; The heavy steps of Jason’s steel-toed boots approaching from your apartment’s rooftop.
You glance up just in time to see him dropping down. A loud clang rings out as he hits the floor, causing the whole structure to vibrate and you wonder if he does that every night, surely not, there’s no way you could sleep through it or that your neighbours wouldn’t complain.
“Aren’t you sweating balls?” You ask, taking in his gear as he sits down beside you. The boots, the cargo pants, turtleneck, jacket, gloves, and the full-face mask.
“Nah.” His voice is muffled by the headpiece until he takes it off, shaking his head to support his answer. “It’s weird but I’ve kinda run cold ever since I died, you know?”
Obviously you don’t know, in fact having felt his searing, naked skin pressed to yours on multiple occasions, you highly doubt him, but you nod regardless and hand him his drink. Unlike a man on the chilly side, he chugs half of the icy drink in one go and you wonder if he’ll ever stop jumping from buildings and telling white lies to impress you.
“Want some help warming up?” Before he can respond you lean up, brushing your nose against his and watching as his lids flutter closed in anticipation, his breath is cool on your lips and when you finally press into them you can taste nothing but the tartness of the lemonade. Regardless, it’s heavenly; soft and tender. Every kiss with Jason makes your heart flutter in the same way it had the first time.
When he pulls away you chase after him, eyes only opening to meet his heterochromatic irises when your pursuit for more becomes an abundant failure.
He’s grinning as he tells you; “We’re missing the sunrise.”
“I don’t care.” You answer, trying again, and this time succeeding in drawing him in for another kiss.
Roy: Paddling Pool
If ever anybody asked you to describe a moment of pure domestic bliss, this moment would be a strong contender. Your lower body is submerged in a paddling pool as you bask in the sun, enjoying the occasional splash of water caused by Lian’s uncoordinated but enthusiastic dancing beside you. She too is basking, but hers is under an endless stream of hose water being directed by her father; Roy, who is watching the two of you from a sun lounger, hosepipe in one hand and a non-alcoholic beer in the other.
He's quite the vision, no shoes, no shirt, just tastefully tacky swim trunks and his iconically worn-out grey baseball cap that may be protecting his head, but is doing little to tame his mop of fiery hair. From this angle, you’ve got a great shot of some of his lesser-seen tattoos, but every time you look over at him you find yourself far more smitten with the countless freckles that adorn his chest and shoulders, made darker and more noticeable by the recent heatwave.   
“How’s the Heineken?” You ask, genuinely curious how he’s enjoying his first taste of alcohol-free booze.
“Crap.” He replies, lips briefly curving into a self-amused smirk before dropping to woefully panicked as you both turn to look at Lian. Luckily, she doesn’t seem to have been listening in, content in her own toddler babblings. Relieved, he turns his attention back to you and corrects himself. “Um, not good babe.”
“That sucks. I’m sorry.” You offer your condolences, but he seems completely unbothered.
Instead, he turns the glass bottle around in his hands a few times before chucking it over his shoulder. It sails through the air before seamlessly landing in the open bin by your backdoor. Your concern about it leaking into the rest of the recycling is seconded by how impressed you are. It doesn’t seem to matter how many times his trick-shot hit, you’re always at least a little bit captivated by his impeccable aim.    
“It’s cool, hon.” He shrugs and leans back into the lounger. His eyes flicker back and forth between you and his child, a slow, contented smile spreading across his face. “Got everything I need right here.”  
Bonus:
Hours later, you’re sorting through the soggy contents of the recycling as Roy scoops Lian up in his arms and takes her sleepy frame inside. The sun is still high and bright, but it’s past her bedtime, and it’s been a long, exciting day for her. He dries her with the softest towel he can find, careful to pat down every pruned finger and toe before putting her to bed.
“How was your day, sweetie?” He asks, strong fingers petting her soft hair to help soothe her to sleep.
“Crap!”   
Tim: Ice Cream
Tim is still sleeping off a rough, muggy night of crime fighting as you circumnavigate the boat's sad excuse for a kitchen. The bags under his eyes had been growing darker each day under the stress of hunting down a mysterious new bank robber. You’d hoped to lift his spirits by surprising him with a tub of homemade ice cream, but so far all you’d managed to make is a mess.
After having a falling out with the thrifted ice cream maker you’d stuffed in the back of a cupboard months ago, you settled for hand mixing. By the time you put the concoction in the freezer to set, your wrists are aching, and Tim has begun to stir. You’re just finishing up the dishes you’d created when he finally emerges from the bedroom in shorts, flip-flops, and a not-so-summer-appropriate hoodie.
Before you can offer a ‘good morning, Timmybear’ his arms are around your waist, pulling you close from behind and settling the weight of his sleepy head on your shoulder.
“What’s this?” He asks and then he’s licking what you can only assume is a stray splash of the mixture from your cheek with the bravery only a man raised by Batman could possess. It could have been literally anything. “Banana?”
“Chunky monkey actually.” Goddamn. Surprise ruined in less than a minute. Oh well, at least you can give him something to look forward to. “Don’t worry, I didn’t get ice cream without you, I made it for you.”
“I figured.” He hums, sounding so very drowsy despite the ease with which he manoeuvres your body against the kitchen counter so he can keep you close while brewing his morning tea, occasionally planting soft kisses to the side of your neck as his hands move absentmindedly. “You’re the best, you know that? Can’t wait to try it.”
“You figured? How did you figure?” You skip right past the justified praise; he’d been practically comatose since 4 AM, how could he have figured?
“It’s on the ceiling.” He’s right, you look up to see a cream-soaked walnut lodged above you and let out a dramatic sigh as you fall deeper into Tim's arms.
Taglist: @wandalfnation
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a-ikuoliver · 1 year ago
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honing your kickboxing skills with pro hero dynamight can lead to a) insane improvements of your skills, becoming the best version of yourself with each critique you get, b) a crush like no other you’ve ever had in your life, or c) all of the above?
pairing: pro hero!katsuki bakugou x f!reader w/c: 9.3k warning/s: fem!reader (“girl”, “cunt”, “pussy” used) slight age gap but not a main plot point, a lil bit of violence, making out, brattish reader, choking (ish), hair pulling, dry humping, slight edging, public sex, unprotected sex, panty stealing, implied use of birth control notes: this post was fucking me up man, uh also ik bakugou is cracked in hand to hand, just have a fun make believe moment where this seems realistic LMAO also apologies for how long my sentences are :// im a yappy girl crossposted to ao3 • masterlist • wip updates & voting • kofi • askbox
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sucking in a deep, controlled breath, you let the air slowly escape your lips as your head fell back, gently leaning on the mirrored wall of the elevator; nearly impossible to hear the ding of your arrival onto the gym floor over the blood still pounding in your ears. you always took this moment to yourself at the end of a patrol, deep meditative breaths to relax, to ease yourself into the mindset you needed for your evening training, clearing your head and trying to focus on your muscles instead of any unpredictable thing that happened on your patrol. tonight was different, the last time you would train without your favourite hero; it was impossible for you to calm your heart rate down, your body buzzing in anticipation, and you couldn’t even lie about why. excited, borderline desperate to work beside the one hero who had your cheeks flushing before your workout even began again. you were always happy to see some of the other heroes you admired, the high-end gym attracting plenty of rookie heroes like yourself, and even more pro heroes, but none catching your eye quite like him. tonight, it was empty, the timed lights flickering on the moment the elevator doors opened, revealing the long wall of mirrors, bouncy dark grey mats lining the floor, red punching bags hanging from the ceiling beside the free-standing ones, and weight racks further up in the room and a floor and cardio section around the corner of the wall.
the clean, structured gym reminds you of your high school gym where you first fell in love with kickboxing, although that had a far smaller blue ring for you to spar with your classmates in. much like the agency leader, you worked every spare moment you could to climb your way to the top of your class, never once missing a chance for training in high school, refusing to fall behind in your dream to become a hero, your reflexes and quirk growing stronger in the three years you trained there, your favourite teacher once reminding you they had needed to changed the worn down mats so often he’d lost count. smiling to yourself, you followed the wall and entered the showers just past the rowing machines, slipping out of the hero costume and into your comfortable gym wear, the dynamight agency logo embossed on the chest of your loose, airy shirt, one of the best agencies japan had to offer.
aside from the top-of-the-line gym being available to you at any time with your staff key, the best part of the dynamight agency gym was who frequented the gym. when you were first hired, the gym was crawling with fellow rookie heroes destressing after their first patrols as full fledged pros, all of your class scattering to agencies around japan right after graduation, some of your classmates joining you here in your first year, now, two years later, only a few of them remained at the same agency, and fewer staying on the same schedule as you. you still saw a few here and there, mostly while you were patrolling; but now your schedule finished your patrol at the quietest time in the agency, especially its gym, passing red riot only once as he was in the elevator going down, dyed hair still damp from his shower and dressed in a casual shirt that clung so tight around his forearms you wondered if he bought his shirts one size too small. you’d cooled down on the treadmill three times so far next to the cheerful chargebolt and cellophane, both of them egging each other on, hearing one bet the other on who could do more pull-ups every single time they were in here, the competition fairly even last you remembered.
but the one that kept you coming back night after night, excitement and nervousness bubbling inside you every time your eyes locked onto his carnelian ones, was the agency’s namesake, dynamight. you saw the hero at least once a week, always with sweat plastering ash blond to his forehead, his lower lash line smudged with leftover black face paint (he’d demanded you stop calling it his makeup despite his brand of eyeliner being the same as yours) and his shirt clinging to his skin if he kept it on, happening so often now your heart would stutter and your smile falter if you didn’t see the explosive bakugo.
you’d be lying if you tried to say seeing him didn’t do twice to motivate you, the ease with which the hardened hero consistently got you into submission had you working out for double the time you typically would, fixating on the way his thighs would pin your shoulders to the mat while he held your hand to his chest, forcing your head down until you gave up wiggling and would tap twice wherever on his body you could reach. you hated to admit it, but he had you submitting so often, you’d usually start complaining about his victory the moment you recognised the movement of his legs coming to wrap around your body, knowing without a doubt it would end with you panting, pressed to the mats and usually trying to get any sort of advantage over him that you could. he was the only one you lost to every time, the idea of one day having his body pinned beneath yours keeping you infinitely motivated, pushing yourself further and harder. you made your way home most nights with his glowing red eyes burned into your mind, his teeth bared in a crazed smile each time he got you underneath him, memories replaying in your head of the times the god-like man would joke with you, “who’s the best? who’s the king, sweetheart?”, waiting for you to agree before he’d release his strong hold on you, just to rub salt in the wound, always that stupid, arrogant smirk on his face.
god, he was addictive.
your determination to reverse the roles had you beating into the punching bag with everything you had, your hits landing in quick succession, the weighted bag hardly having enough time to swing back into place before you’d land another blow on it. you were distracted today, not being able to shake your longing for a proper spar with bakugou while swinging your fist forward again, pouting slightly when you connected with sand instead of muscle. you hated the way the bag couldn’t fight back, defend itself the way he would, hating that the bag didn’t stare down at you the same way he did, blond hair blocking the fluorescent lighting bearing down behind him, leaving his features hidden in the shadows; his ruby gaze all that was discernible. most of all, you hated that the punching bag didn’t keep you on your toes, no strong legs to sweep your own feet out from beneath you, no hands to catch your punches, the sand-filled bag made for nothing except taking the force of your punches.
with a grunt, you kicked the side of the punching bag where his muscular thigh would be, knocking it to the floor with an echoing thud, letting out a breathless laugh, imagining bakugou’s gorgeous face in its place on the ground, smug grin wiped off of his face, criticism dying on his lips in place of his submission. you felt your body flush with heat at the picture in your mind, looking forward to seeing him again, longing to hear the heavy panting and his echoing grunts whenever you landed a jab on him.
having gone without hearing or seeing him for nearly six weeks now, you were becoming more and more desperate to prove yourself and claim your victory over the one person you’d never beaten hand-to-hand, and just maybe, to hear his wolfish laugh and smell his addictive mix of spicy cologne and sweet sweat.
standing the weighted bag back up on its base, you flexed your hands before going back to hitting it with your all, the bag barely stabilising when you hit it again, your knee landing with an echoing thump moments before your fist connected in the centre of the bag, right where bakugou’s solar plexus would be if he were the one standing in front of you.
you watched the bag bounce back, waiting for it to settle on its base before you glanced up to the clock to see 3:02am blinking back at you. already here an hour later than you’d usually stay, you took a deep swig from your cold water bottle, deciding to stay one more hour before you’d go home, rationalising you didn’t need a full eight hours of sleep until you had bakugou beneath you, your thighs wrapped around him until he tapped your knee in submission like you’d had to do to him countless times before. the thought of beating your boss had a surge of adrenaline and endorphins pumping into your blood; your foot planted on the mat while your other swung forward, forcing the punching bag skittering several feet back across the floor. you finished your rotation, landing back in your defensive stance with your feet planted and your fists in front of your smiling face. 
“that was better,” smiling, you breathlessly muttered praise, the same way bakugou would if you’d landed that hit on him.
you jumped, your head whipping around to face where a deep voice had echoed your words, the tone more matter-of-fact, compared to your high, excited one. you kept your fists high and just beneath your squared shoulders, elbows beside your ribs. your eyes narrowed to search the darkness near the edge of the room, worried the noise was simply part of the low, fast beat playing through the speakers scattered across the ceiling.
“settle down, extra, ‘m not here to hurt you.” his voice was rough, and thick with sleep, becoming more apparent when he stepped into the white lighting of the gym and you saw his mussed hair and slightly puffy eyes, dressed in loose, comfortable clothes and holding a plain black canvas bag in his left hand. your heart jumped into your throat at the sight of him, relaxing only as much as your thrumming veins could let you, a whole new electrical current surging through you not letting your shoulders slump or your thighs mirror his casual stance, his proximity already having your mind grow foggy despite the older hero still standing metres across the room.
almost as if he wanted your heart racing, he made his way to you across the room, his vermillion eyes dropping from your gaze to rake over your body, taking in your stance, “lazy, keep your fists in line with your shoulders, always expect ‘em to fight back.”
his voice was uncharacteristically gentle as he criticised you, muffled while his virile hands rubbed over his tired features, clearing his throat, his voice grew a touch in volume, “what are you even doin’ here at three in the morning?”
you ignored his question momentarily, fixing your fists to be in line with your squared shoulders, raising your eyebrow in a silent question of approval, dropping your arms and adjusting to a more casual position once he nodded, “gotta beat you somehow,”
bakugou laughed, no cackled, at your confident tone, not in a condescending way, but a more surprised laugh, your response seemingly catching him off guard, expecting a typical “i wanna crack the top 20!” rather than a personal mission to best him. returning his smile, you turned around to throw on your loose top, the fabric clinging to your slick, hot skin, figuring your boss was about to tell you to go home and rest and start some hypocritical lecture about burning the wick at both ends without any sleep. as soon as the shirt was pulled off your face and your eyes met him again, you continued, “what about you? did you get home last night?”
he nodded instead of speaking at first, his fiery red eyes tracking your every movement while you packed away your equipment scattered around the grey floor you were moving around between, keeping only your towel on top of your bag, your water bottle beside it and your phone next to that.
“just got back, was gonna drop some shit off,” he lifted the bag in a gesture to it, before placing it on the ground beside yours, the canvas rustling but no other noise coming from it to indicate it was heavy, the blond hero seemingly only dropping it because he planned to stay rather than follow his initial plan, “saw the lights, n’ then i heard that fuckin’ music you’re always listenin’ to.”
feigning offence at his distaste for your music, you held a still-wrapped hand to your heart, sure your eyes gave away the lovesickness you felt with him recognising the song instead of the faux venom you were aiming for. you turned back around after brushing off his insult, sliding the punching bag back across the grey mat to its spot between the countless others lining the wall, missing the way his tired eyes dropped to stare at the back of your thighs in your workout shorts, watching the way your muscles twitched when you planted your feet to push it the final foot into its place. his reflexes still fast enough to flick back to your face when you turned to tease him over your shoulder, “that’s probably the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me, i never knew jet lag would make you such an angel.”
the blond hero barked out a too-loud laugh for the time of night it was, but it had you smiling widely, the look in his eyes a mirror to your own, all trace of sleep replaced with the easy playfulness you fell into together; the teasing, tension and challenge swirling in the air whenever you two were drawn into each others gravity. your stomach flipped at the look in his eyes, trying to ignore your carnal need to let your eyes roam over him after so long, wanting to commit the look of him so comfortable and relaxed to memory, much like how the view of his sculpted, muscular back was imprinted in your mind. somehow, the way he was dressed had you nearly drooling, his attire nearly as sinful as when he was half naked with a sheen coating his exposed skin, hair darkened and sticking to his face, gym shorts hanging low, but you were sure he could make anything look borderline lewd.
you loved when you were alone with him, not having to hold back your impish jabs to stay professional in front of fellow heroes who didn’t understand the friendship you’d built with the explosive hero; but it did come with its downsides, it was impossible to sneak glances at him when there was no one else to distract him from your drifting eyes. you especially loved the exasperated look he got when he was grappling in the ring with you and someone interrupted him, eyebrows furrowed and red eyes glaring at whoever announced dynamight had an “urgent” phone call, typically it being his pr team readying some statement for him on the other end.
he never looked at you that way. carnelian eyes always swimming with something else you could never place your finger on, but it was far from the disgruntlement he looked at everyone else with.
“you really think so?” his husky voice snapped you out of your deep thoughts, your eyes meeting his gaze boring into you once again, butterflies erupting in your stomach at the look. could he hear your thoughts? did he know the way you looked at him when he wasn't watching you? your mouth was bobbing open and shut with these questions swimming in your mind for a second before you found your voice again to innocently question him, “think what?”
“that you can beat me.” he quoted back to you, ruby red eyes staying on yours even while he dropped himself onto the weight-lifting bench beside him, his thighs spreading as he tilted his chin up at you, challenging you, “i already had to fix your stance, extra, you think you’ll ever land a hit on me like that?”
narrowing your eyes you spun on your heel to stalk towards the cushioned mats, the ring you were both all too familiar with, your fingertips buzzing at the challenge hanging in the air, “try me.”
“don’t threaten me with a good time,” bakugou teased, watching the way your wrapped hands twitched at your sides, fingers flexing to confirm the red wrap wasn’t going anywhere. you rolled your eyes in response, knowing his idea of a good time was kicking your ass.
he stayed on the bench, his nonchalant posture betrayed only by his eyes tracking you like a hunter, not a single movement you made went unnoticed by the seasoned hero, every single twitch, every breath caught by his expert gaze. you stood your ground, quirking an eyebrow in a silent challenge, not showing your tentativeness at what might happen if he did decide to stalk over to you; you’d been working your hardest in the past four weeks to try and shock him with your skills, who’s to say he wasn’t working, all the same, to be even less predictable in the ring with you?
“you scared?” you retorted, returning the smirk that was glued to his face when he did exactly what you hoped he would; standing straight from the bench to pull his shirt over his head, tearing his eyes from your hungry ones only for the split second the fabric shielded his face from you, throwing the black cloth to the ground beside his bag while he took long strides over to you. you’d never admit it aloud to a single soul, but your heart skipped a beat the moment he was in front of you again, standing to his full height, predatory eyes always observing. he was closer to you than before, the scent that was so him was radiating from him, invading your senses, any plan of attack clouded by the way you’d missed him. not even within a foot from you and he already had you mesmerised like that was his quirk, all your excitement of seeing him again twisting into nerves, your attraction to him hitting you like a brick wall.
you shook your head, trying to clear your mind, fixing your fists in line with your shoulders while bakugou circled the mat for a few moments before stopping again in front of you. with his heels planted and standing in a defensive stance, he waited for you to make the first move, he tauntingly stood still, looking like a carved statue, or maybe like the muse for one, perfectly still while artists chipped away to recreate his likeness. you took in one last calming, deep breath, willing your crush to subside for just a moment, just long enough to fulfil your craving.
with the older hero poised and waiting for your first attack, you decided not to keep him waiting any longer, jumping at him faster than you could dream of being capable of a month ago, catching a satisfying flash of shock across his features mere milliseconds before you landed your first blow; your fist connecting with his arms in front of his face in a block, forcing a grunt from his lips, the blow harder than he was used to from you.
bakugou tried to hide his admiration for your determination to prove to him that not only could you beat him, but you would. you landed one more hit on his stomach with a strong fist while he was lost in his thoughts, his elbows not swinging down fast enough to protect himself from your fist connecting.
any trace of apprehension you had disappeared after successfully knocking the breath from the fiery blond, stepping back with renewed energy, blowing on your fist to rub salt in the wound at landing a hit on him so quickly. he laughed wolfishly at your joking, his demeanour minutely switching, biceps flexing when he moved as he retorted, “oh, sweetheart, you’re in for it now.”
your smirk faltered, your swollen ego deflating like a popped balloon when he lunged at you, lifting your arms in a block when he was only inches away, landing punches on you every chance he got. the blows were little more than love taps, not exactly soft, but not enough to put you out of commission, serving more as a lesson that he would always be the king of kickboxing. you blocked another hit aimed at your face, baring your teeth as you finally remembered you could move, swinging your leg up, landing the harsh kick to the side of his thigh with a roundhouse kick, having just finished your rotation around before you kicked again, this time your heel landing squarely in his chest before he could recover enough to block you.
your kicks knocked him backwards, giving you only seconds to stalk over to him before he’d recover and have you half regretting the decisions that led you here; you landed only a few more hits to his chest and face, bakugou parrying and dodging nearly all of them, his vermillion eyes locked on you, watching the way you watched him, trying to predict the way he’d defend himself. he noted the way you weren’t focusing on landing one type of hit on him, evenly balancing kicks and jabs at him, one thing he was constantly pointing out to you, his biggest criticism was always your predictability. 
inches away from the edge of the ring, you retreated only slightly, thinking for a split second before you decided to spin around with your elbow ready to strike, hoping when your elbow connected with his cheek he would be dazed enough for you to get behind him and get him to the floor. instead, your body jolted, being met with six feet of pure muscle, warm hands gripping your elbow, keeping it a mere inch away from connecting right beside his hypnotising eyes, you sucked in a surprised gasp, knowing his bicep would be around your throat in the blink of an eye, his mischievous eyes clear he thought he’d won.
“what was it you said?” you growled, swinging your your arm back with more strength than any of your previous blows, your free elbow landing into his solar plexus; the hulking man grunting more with shock than you knocking the breath from him and knocking his balance, but you took your chance to escape his grasp while you could. you whipped around once more, staring down at bakugo’s kneeling frame with an insane smile growing on your face, planting your heel to land your finishing kick to his chest.
“always expect them to fight back?” you were getting cocky now.
katsuki’s eyes widened, not having quite enough time to stand back to his full height and slip past you, choosing instead to block your blow, not pushing you aside but catching it; sliding one warm hand up your ankle, tugging you closer with a strong grip until your ankle was beside his hip and his other hand reached up in line with the centre of your chest, a powerful strike from his palm knocking you completely off balance and onto your back. winded, you landed with a grunt, staring up at bakugo’s ever-smug face hanging right above yours, his hips between your own, still keeping a tight grip on your ankle in his left hand, his free forearm pressing down across your heaving chest. you were effectively pinned beneath him, his entire body weight bearing down against you, preventing your free leg from kicking him off you, and your arms unable to reach high enough to land a punch with his muscular arm keeping your shoulders hard to the mat.
it was an undeniable win, even without having you in a chokehold.
“you’re so fucking–” you whined like a child, thrashing as much as his body would allow, wanting him off you before his gloating started and you’d have nowhere left to look except his soft, smirking lips.
“strong? mighty? the king? feel free to stop me when i’m right.”
“annoying.” your head fell back onto the cushioned mat in defeat, avoiding his garnet eyes, not wanting to see the addicting, animalistic look he got in his eye whenever he won. the hero still above you laughed in response to your childish whines, his chin falling to his chest and his body shaking with the rumbling laugh, your heart clenched at the sound. he readjusted his weight while still laughing, his hips and forearm lifting off your skin to leave you cold for just a moment.
long enough of a moment for you to blindly try to buck him off you again; your right leg still in his hold, but leaving your left leg free to kick his shoulder, doing little more than slide you backwards on the mat a foot or two, not nearly enough for you to stand up and attempt to disarm him. millions of thoughts were running through your head, every one a different strategy for your escape, to get behind bakugou and circle your bicep around his throat.
you lifted your leg again, your thigh flexing with the movement, about to kick out once more to free your ankle still trapped in his hot grip; interrupted by the blond diving on you, looking more like a panther catching its fearful prey in its claws than a human man sparring with a friend, his teeth were bared, pointed canines poised to tear you to shreds. landing back on top of you, he had his thighs between your hips again, the soft fabric hiding the pure muscle beneath it, the strength in his legs keeping you from moving again, and your legs caught beneath his arm, calves pinned to his ribs, immobilising your lower half. his thick fingers were looped around your neck, his chest so close to yours that if you took a deep enough breath, your chests would touch.
“you think you can get away from me that easily?” you held your breath, his voice the softest you’d ever heard it, deeper than when he barked orders or laughed like a crazed man, hot fingertips twitching against your racing pulse. his breath was fanning across your face as he whispered, his narrowed eyes flicking back and forth between your wide, shocked ones, your mouth dropping open to try and retort in the same second your thighs tensed around his body, pulling him closer in the most minute way. his heaving chest and stomach were pressed to yours, body heat becoming one, the only part of your bodies not joined were your heads, yours still resting against the mat, and his inches away, reading your face. without another word, bakugou’s face split into a signature grin, his head cocked to the side when he leaned impossibly closer to you; his muscular frame keeping you trapped under his heated gaze, whispering right to you, “is that what it is huh? never wanted to beat me, you jus’ wanted this?”
you stared dumbly up at him, unable to force your vocal cords to defend yourself in any way when his intoxicating, spiced scent was clouding your mind; trying to formulate a thought that wasn’t about the feeling of his warm abdomen against yours proving impossible, “tch, dirty girl.”
your heart stuttered in your chest, your breath hitching at his words, you closed your mouth, well aware that whatever sound came out of your mouth was not going to be something that would help your defence. his tongue darted out to wet his lips, your eyes flicking down to watch the way the muscle swiped across his pink lips before returning behind his teeth, eyes tracking his every movement while he tracked your stare. you tore your eyes away from his mouth, trying your best to harden your gaze when you looked back up to his eyes, your attempt to appear indifferent promptly failing when his sharp chin twitched, his lips only a hair's-breadth away from catching yours.
your chin twitches, desperate to close the space, to know what his lips would feel like pressed to yours with a fierce passion.
any attempts to close the space between you were dashed by his grip just tightening around your throat, keeping you at his mercy, unable to escape the way his blood red eyes bored into yours, as if he was reading your thoughts so clearly you may as well have shouted them from the agency’s rooftop.
his voice was husky, breathy, when he spoke again, “i fuckin’ knew it.”
it was a barely audible mumble, followed by him ducking his head to fill the tiny distance separating you, finally joining your bodies together entirely with his lips pressing to yours. he kissed you with the same ferocity he fought you with, something you eagerly returned, the feeling of his lips and exploring tongue had you nearly ready to snap, your body already wound tight from the last few hours already, his soft lips doing nothing to dull the electricity zapping between your bodies. he kept his smiling lips pressed to yours until he felt your taped hand snake around his wrist to hold him close, and your groans vibrated against his lips.
“i fucking knew it.” bakugou's deep laugh rumbled in his chest, repeating himself, his tone more relieved, more confident than his mumble before, although still breathless. his calloused hands still kept you under his control, glowing eyes staring down at your closed ones, your lips still parted and breathing heavily, your heartbeat fluttering beneath his fingertips whenever they tensed at all. you opened your glazed eyes to meet his hungry ones, only just catching the flash of his sharp smile at you again, your mind empty except for the need to feel him against you again and again.
ignoring the way his fingers dug into your skin to keep you still, you leaned up at the same time you reached your right hand up to bury it in the blond spikes at the back of his head, pulling him down to meet your lips in the middle again, not caring for the way you messily kissed him; lips bruising, spit mixing and teeth clashing. this time, you had him groaning against your lips when you nipped at his bottom lip, sucking it between your own, your hips jerking against his at the guttural sound.
almost as if your hips squirming against his brought him back to reality, he loosened his grip on your ankle, a warm hand gliding up your leg to roam over your thigh, abdomen and hip, roughly squeezing your hip in his hand, while the one around your throat caressed the delicate skin at your pulse point. moaning softly against his lips, you let your head fall back with your eyes squeezed shut, pressing your hips to his while sucking in deep breaths, kissing him was knocking the breath from your lungs more than his strikes did.
staring at the older hero with half-lidded eyes, you unabashedly admired him, addicted to the sensation of his fingers sliding down your chest, between your breasts, to rest at the hem of your shirt, flicking it off your hot skin, watching the way your muscles jumped at his every move.
closing your eyes again, an idea flashed in your mind, the mischievous thought cutting through the fog to land in the forefront of your mind; wasting no time, you took the opportunity to bring it to life while he was distracted by the feeling of your warm body pressed against his.
without wasting another moment, you tighten your loose grip in his hair, just enough to make him hiss in response to your fingertips scratching his sensitive scalp, his head falling backwards with a yank; your right hand reaching from his wrist to his shoulders with lightning speed, shoving him back with enough force, and with his distraction at your advantage, he lost his balance. he landed on his back with a quiet thump on the soft mats, his strong grip on your hips dragging you into his hold before you had the chance to adjust your body entirely, leaving you with no choice but to tighten your hold and land above him with your knees on either side of his hips. hastily, you slid your hand from his shoulder to pin him down with a forearm pressing at the base of his throat, pinning his shoulders, the same position you were in moments ago, this time your strong thighs either side of his hips and your forearm at his neck immobilising him.
you stared down at bakugou with a hungry look of your own sparkling in your eyes, leaning closer and closer to press your chest to his, your deep breaths mingling with his. any anxiety you felt about ruining the friendship you built fading with every passing second you stared into his carnelian eyes, fear pushed aside by the need to keep your lips pressed to his, and hands exploring each other's bodies, but you always made room in your clouded mind for one more snarky comment; “i always knew you’d look this good once i got you under me.”
the blond barked out a sharp, condescending laugh, your arm across his shoulders doing little to prevent him from reaching one of his hands up to grab you by the back of your neck, bringing your greedy lips to his again, pausing just before they connected to retort, “you haven’t done a thing i haven’t let you do, extra.”
a growl reverberated through your chest, your lip pulling back to snarl at him; his words had no bite but they still had adrenaline bubbling in your chest, any grumbling cut off by his lips slamming against yours in a rough kiss, sharp teeth dragging over soft lips, nearly cutting the plump skin. bakugou pulled your hips down to meet his bucking ones with strong calloused hands digging into your skin to keep your hot skin against his, guiding your movements while you sucked his tongue into your mouth. you revelled in the way his heart thumped under your touch, goosebumps erupting on the forearm you kept hard against his chest, refusing to let the experienced hero steal too much control back from you, the tight pectorals flexing under you giving you little reassurance you had any to begin with, aware he’d have you winded, several feet across the floor if he really wanted to show his strength.
tugging at his hair once more, you unceremoniously dropped your hand from his hair to glide down his body, dull nails dragging down his neck to the sweaty muscles of his chest, dipping into every defined divot of his abdomen you could reach, desperate to explore every inch of his body. reaching the elastic of his waistband, you paused, breaking the kiss but keeping the sensual, slow pace of your hips against his while you both gulped in deep breaths from the passionate kisses, your head lolling back with a high-pitched gasp when the seam on your gym shorts bumped your throbbing clit with a well-timed roll of your hips on his.
you had little power to stop katsuki from tightening his hold in the hair at the base of your neck, pulling you back to meet his lips with his teeth bared, your parted lips stopping just above his own when you caught yourself, your hand slipping from his throat to land beside his head with a slapping sound, keeping you only an inch above falling entirely onto him. as ravenous as you, he craned his neck to meet you halfway, his swollen lips latching onto your neck with hot, open-mouthed kisses, uncontrollable, breathy moans slipping from your mouth when his pointed canines grazed against your tender pulse points.
“that all it takes to get you moanin’?” he asked sarcastically, glassy, dark garnet eyes staring into yours when he dragged his teeth over the same spot once more, smirking against your skin when another sweet moan escaped you, the rhythm of your hips stuttering when he sunk his teeth harder into your skin, indenting your skin with his bite. your lust-filled eyes flashed with a playful glimmer, shoving his shoulders back until he was lying back on the mat, the bigger hero grunting at your show of force, half surprised by it, but mostly hard at your display of strength and determination to make him submit to you, even if he knew it wouldn’t happen.
“shut up,” you mumbled, your voice dropping lower and lower the closer you got to him, mirroring the kisses he’d placed on you; first pressing your lips to his adam’s apple, then another, harder kiss to the side of his throat, licking up the side of his neck until you reached just beneath his ear, sinking your teeth into the salty skin, the sound of his breath catching in his throat making your eyes turn to hearts. you opened your mouth against his skin, wanting to make your mark on his flawless skin.
“don’t even think about it, dumbass.” katsuki tried to sound venomous, threatening as to what would happen if you drew any blood to the surface of his skin, but his panting betrayed him, his glaring eyes lacking any meanness behind them, only lust reflecting in his blown pupils.
“oh please, katsuki, all your blood is rushing far from your head right now, i couldn’t get a drop out of you–”
your teasing and giggling were interrupted by the feeling of your weight shifting once again, his agile movements too quick for you to catch, unconcerned about restraining himself if it meant having you pinned under him again. once more, you were in the cliche position; your slick back on the stuffed mats, and the seasoned hero leering over you, this time he had your wrists pinned to your thighs with his knees holding them on either side of you, having torn them from his shoulders amidst flipping you off of him. thrashing again, you planted your feet and raised your hips to try and buck him off, stretching your neck off the mat, prompting him to pin your cheek back down to the mat, his warm hand holding your jaw to the side, while the other was sliding up the divot between your thighs, leaving tiny goosebumps in his wake until his thick fingers grazed over the heat radiating at the peak of them, “rich comin’ from you, i can already feel how wet you are n’ i’ve hardly touched you.”
his warm breath tickled your ear when he gloated, the hairs on the back of your neck standing when a shiver passed through your spine. noting your reaction to his gravelly voice, he pressed harder to your cheek to hold you still while he toyed with you, lazily circling his fingers over your clothed cunt, admiring the wet fabric beneath his fingertips. without even glancing up at the hero, you could picture the smug grin clearly on his face, crimson eyes monitoring every jump of your heart rate, every twitch in your hips, every flutter of your eyelids, lust-blown pupils honed into the way your bit at your lips, holding a deep breath in your chest to keep yourself from moaning salaciously.
“like you’re any bet-ter, i can feel your dick through those t-tiny shorts,” stuttering with every brush against your cunt, you tried to mimic his mean tone, your body revealing your true need to reach for him when your hands twitched against his muscular legs, desperate to dig your nails into him until he was melting into your touch, desperate to brutalise him with your affection.
“you get this hard with everyone?” you mocked his tone once more, trying, and failing, to keep your tone even as possible with your eyes mapping what the inside of your skull looked like at the euphoric feeling of his fingers exploring your skin, paying no mind to the fact you were entirely at his mercy. your hips bucked into his touch, betraying your attempt at indifference, a quiet moan escaping from your plush lips at his skilled ministrations, lightening jolting from his fingertips every time the pad of his thumb pressed against your clothed clit. sucking his teeth with disapproval, katsuki tore your shorts down your thighs in response to your restrained noise, the stitching of the garment straining to stay attached in his rough grip. shifting his knees to adjust your pinned hands, he cleared the way for the fabric to be yanked finally your ankles.
the moment your shorts were torn from your body, his strong hand returned to your wrists, snatching them and holding them above your head, taking advantage of your delirious, love-drunk state to manipulate your body exactly where he wanted it; knees knocking apart your own, his hand drifting from your cheek to your chin, tilting your head to stare back up at his sculpted face. he caught your lips in a searing kiss again, the tip of his nose pressed hard against your cheek while his hand fell from your face entirely to trail down your body, calloused fingertips sending electric shocks straight to your heart with every inch they travelled, only stopping once he reached the waistband of your panties. the older blond slipped his fingers between your burning skin and the elastic, flicking it against your skin to elicit a tiny gasp from you, taking advantage of your parted lips to let his tongue slide against yours.
he had you mewling within seconds, his two fingers rubbing your clit over your underwear getting you closer and closer to cumming without the satisfaction of his fingers even dipping inside the soaked fabric, already too sensitive from his barely-there touches and the feel of his tongue. stubbornly, you held your breath, tensing your thighs around his, refusing to climax after only a little petting and kissing, determined not to let him see what his skilled touch did to you. bakugou pulled away from you, your mouths connected for a moment longer by a string of shared saliva before you broke it with a garbled cry, his fingers pressing into your dripping pussy through your panties, the rough feeling of the fabric and his hard fingers pressing just inside you driving you crazy, the hero nearly succeeding in making you cream before he even had your panties off.
“i don't know why you’re trying to hide those pretty sounds, sweetheart, your pussy isn’t holding back about how bad she wants me.” you stared up at him with glassy eyes, the bright lights behind him haloing his head, leaving him looking like an angel despite his sinful words making your pussy clench. his ruby eyes locked on the way your cunt quivered the second he pulled his hand away to tug down the waistband of his gym shorts and briefs in one motion, leaving only your panties still separating the two of you. your gaze dropped from his face, watching instead the way his cock sprung from the confines of his cotton underwear to bob against his scarred, tanned skin, the moans you’d been holding in spilling from your lips at the sight. without another thought, you lifted your hips, rubbing your still-clothed cunt on his cock, his eyes squeezing shut with a deep moan of his own at the sensation of the cotton separating you rubbing over his sensitive cockhead. 
“hurry up and do something worth screamin’ about then.” your voice hardly above a whisper when you pleaded, the blond smiling wolfishly, snatching at the challenge you dangled in front of him like it was a five-course meal served on a silver platter for him to savour. despite the arrogance radiating from him, he was squeezing the base of his cock staring down at you, trying to regain some semblance of control over himself while you writhed and sighed beneath him; ready to cum at the way you keened into his touch when he tore the waistband of your panties down your hips swiftly. 
“not even a “please, katsuki”?” he bullied, tucking your plain panties in the pocket at his thigh while you were distracted, not wanting to hear your teasing at his perverted actions, he’d controlled himself for two years, he wasn’t going to give them up now. katsuki adjusted himself between your thighs, languidly fisting his thick cock, while inching closer to you, ending with your knees either side of his hips and your wrists still trapped above your head. your hard eyes were boring into his burning red ones, your mouth opening to retort with another insult, bratty words dying on your lips in place of a yelp when he bumped the head against your sensitive clit, teasing you once more, “what was that, baby?”
glaring up at him, your hips bucked again, growing more and more desperate for his dick inside you, “fuck you, kats–” 
he had his cock bullying deep inside you in one easy, swift motion, cutting you off before you could finish spitting out his name. his laugh morphed to a deep groan the deeper he got inside of you, a quiet sigh escaping you both when his sensitive head jutted the lewd, spongy spot deep inside your cunt. with his hips flush against yours, your loud cry drowned out bakugou's own grunts at your tight pussy fluttering and squeezing his still dick.
true to your word, you lost yourself in your climax, with no hope of silencing your cries of pleasure, hips stuttering up against his, your cunt trying to suck him impossibly deeper. your head was swimming at how he felt buried in your guts, the sensation infinitely better than what you’d spent your days dreaming about since your first day at his agency, your fingers nothing compared to the way he had your endorphins pumping through your veins.
bakugou drank in the sight of you lost in your climax beneath him, your hair mussed and escaping from the elastic hairband desperately trying to hold it all still together, your shirt riding up to expose your sweating, heaving chest, your back arched perfectly, and a bead of sweat winding down your body like a road leading right to your dripping cunt, cream spilling down his veins to gather in a milky ring at the base. swearing, he adjusted himself, bumping your sensitive g-spot again, unable to wait any longer when you wiggled your hips further down onto him.
pulling his hips back, he sank slowly into you again, his gaze locked on your face for any trace of discomfort on your features, your pussy certainly wet enough for him to fuck you with ease, but still making sure you could handle the stretch of him in your tight pussy before ravaging you. he found nothing but undeniable pleasure swirling around in your eyes, clearly not enough to make you dumb yet.
“are you gonna fuck me properly, or just sit there staring at me?” you tried to sound apathetic, bored, to the feeling of his thickness stretching your cunt most deliciously, your voice cracking when he snapped his hips, your cum making it far too easy for the hero to reach an impossibly deep spot inside you.
with only a snarl as a reply, he released your hands above your head to grip your hips with both hands, pulling your hips up in time with his thrust forward into you, the sound of his hips slapping against the skin of your thighs muffled by your rhythmic, breathless squeals, barely having enough time to catch your breath before you’d be gasping out another moan. lost in ecstasy, you dumbly left your wrists above your head, oblivious they were unrestricted until his warm thumb swiped at your swollen clit, your hands launching to drag your nails down his bicep, revelling in his quiet hiss in your ear.
you'd never been more grateful for the soundproof walls of the gym, the main purpose for the music the heroes loved to play loud enough to deafen everyone else in the building, nonetheless thankful that anyone on the other floors would be oblivious that stoic, pro hero dynamight and his newest sidekick were wrapped around each other, lost in pleasure, your squeals growing louder and louder at every bump of his cockhead to your cervix, every agile slide in and out working you closer and closer to cumming around him again.
“god, katsuki, i’m so fucking close!” you mewled, your voice impossibly high and loud, echoing back from the mirrors for you to hear the debased way you sounded for him. your eyes were squeezed shut, muscles wound tight, mere seconds away from cumming on his dick, needing the slightest stimulation for the tight band inside you to snap, certain that if bakugou just blew his warm breath against your clit, you’d cum with a scream. groaning low in your throat, you dragged your hands down his chest, scratching gently at his abdomen, reaching between your bodies to swirl your fingers around the sensitive bud.
the same time you reached down, he stopped.
your hazy eyes snapped open, already glaring up at him, your voice little more than a whine, “you’re such a dickhead.”
“oh, were you about to cum?” he mocked with a saccharine smile, digging his fingers into your plush thighs, lifting one up and onto his chest, your ankle dangling over his shoulder forcing you to lie on your side with your sticky cunt spread and on display for him, positioned perfectly for the hero to watch you take him. he kept one hand on your thigh, bringing the other up your spine to bury in your hair, squeezing once to force your mouth open in a gasp, watching the way your features morphed from annoyance with him to borderline desperation, unable to grind against him the way you wanted now with his strong grip on your thigh and hair.
as if taking pity on your need to cum, he lined himself up again with your soaking pussy, fucking your slick back inside you, even deeper than you felt it before, feeling more like his dick was fucking into your stomach, reshaping the organ around his cock. clutching your trembling thighs, he grunted when your pussy hugged his cock like a vice, your soft walls fluttering around him, the new position forcing only short puffs of breath from the both of you as you grew closer and closer together.
“god, ka-katsuki,” your voice was nothing short of a squeal, “feels so good, ‘m gonna cum.” the words tumbled out of your mouth before you could have a second thought about it, your mind void of any thoughts other than how his twitching dick felt stretching you, shaping your cunt to be a perfect fit for him; the feeling of his sweating body sliding against yours, his fingers dipping between your bodies to finally have you seeing the blinding white you’d been chasing since he first spoke to you, your breathless squeals and moans drowning out any dirty talk he might’ve been murmuring back to you.
your hard breathing turned quickly to a soundless scream, his determined fingertips still circling your clit as you tried to twist and buck away from him, tears nearly welling in your lash line when you failed to escape him. you only felt relief when his hips jumped, rutting against yours. he pressed his chest to your side, dropping his hand to your thigh in a bruising grip, keeping you still and at his mercy while he tugged your hair, digging his fingertips into your scalp so hard you weren't sure if he’d broken the skin.
effortlessly, he had you seeing white in time with him, breathlessly moaning your delirious, cock-drunk praise, your pussy swallowing him deeper, until his warm cum was spilling in the innermost part of you, making your toes curl; his cum mixing with your own on his cock as he lazily, shallowly thrust into you once, twice more. you could already feel the mix sliding down your thighs, the only intelligible word falling from your lips being a weak, “wait,”
bakugou complied, nodding with his slick forehead pressed to your shoulder, his eyes squeezed shut as he tried to ignore the way your cunt was still spasming around his tender cock, as if trying to impossibly squeeze more cum out of him, a deep groan rumbling in his chest when he finally had to pull himself off of you when you nodded moments later. you tried to hold the whines that threatened to escape your parted lips, crying out at the loss of his body weight against you, and shivering at the cold air hitting the skin his body heat was burning before. you couldn't silence the whimper when he slid his thick cock from inside you. feeling full and stretched out in the best way, your body slumped, your muscles like jelly in his hands while he admired the perverted way your pussy looked used by him, gaping and sticky with cum, unable to stop the way his cock twitched again against his thigh at the sight. clearing his throat, katsuki mumbled an apology for leaving your skin cold, before placing you gently onto the mat, treating you far more delicately than he was minutes earlier when he was drilling into you, chasing his orgasm and unfalteringly working you to yours.
laughing, you muttered a quick response, dismissing his concerns; you sounded dreamy, nearly delirious, your voice still high and wavering, cracking at the end of the sentence, the smile on your face apparent in your voice, even with his back turned as he reached behind him to find your towel discarded nearby. you followed his movements, his body a magnet for your own, heart eyes zeroing in on his. together, you sat in comfortable silence for a moment, careful hands cleaning up the shared mess between you two, your head lolling to the side, your once tense bodies like goo on the floor.
bakugou shamelessly stared at you while you lazily searched for your panties, patting the mat randomly around you, your thin shirt still crumpled and creased above your navel, exposing even more skin to his hungry eyes, giving up quickly and turning your accusatory gaze on him. your face looked warmer, glowing, your eyes shining and glassy staring back into his, knowing the answer about your missing clothes before you could ask it. he looks similarly debauched, leaning on his elbow beside you with gym shorts haphazardly pulled up his hips, panties hardly obscured in his pocket, his sweating chest shining in the harsh white lighting, his abdomen tightening as he sat up entirely, stretching to lean over you, “i didn’t know you could look better than when you tap out under me.” 
“just wait ‘n see how much better i look on top of you.” you jabbed his naked chest with your finger, not missing the way his eyes flashed with the need to feel you riding his cock, to let you take everything you wanted from him with every grind of your hips.
you sat up on your elbows, narrowly avoiding smacking your forehead against his at your speed, hissing quickly at him when you spotted the flashing clock over his shoulder, 4:48am blinking on the clock face, nearly obscured by the sunrise's reflection “c’mon, we need to get dressed before someone comes in here.”
you reach a hand up to smack his shoulder playfully when he doesn’t move off of you, his reflexes startling you again when he catches your wrist before you can even disturb the air beside him, the same fiery twinkle in his eyes proving his incredible abilities to you again and again.
“this is my agency, dumbass, no one’s comin’ in here if i don’t want ‘em to.”
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© all works belong to @a-ikuoliver, @gwen0m, and dlirious on archive of our own, do not plagiarise, translate, repost, feed my works into ai or recommend my work on other platforms, or bind my fanworks for sale.
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lumi-nescentt · 1 year ago
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Heaven Is A Place On Earth With You
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Pairing: Max Verstappen x Reader
Warnings: slight sexual joke at some point
Words: 1.8k
Summary: The Max everyone knows is a lot different from the Max he is behind closed doors. That's even truer when he hasn't seen you in a while and all he wants is to spend time doing nothing with his girl.
A/N: I'm procrastinating for my finals so I'm going to try to finish all the WIP I currently have :) hope you like max being hopelessly in love bc that's what you're getting here
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Max was known for being blunt, sometimes rough which on track made him almost unstoppable. However, the Max you knew was way different. He treated you with such care and delicacy, it was sickeningly sweet. From the moment you two had started dating, he had done his best to show you that he wasn't what the rest of the world portrayed him to be. That he was worthy of the affection you felt for him.
Slow mornings with Max were your favourite moments. He always woke up before you but he never dared to leave the bed before you wanted to. He didn’t particularly liked laying around but there was something about being close to you that made him want to stay there forever. You looked so peaceful cuddled up against him, he wouldn’t have dared to wake you up anyway. He much preferred admiring you until you woke up and he could finally talk to you.
When your eyes started fluttering awake, the first thing you were aware of was the arm around your waist. Max's hand was on your naked back, keeping you as close to him as possible. The weight of it was comforting and it was always the first thing you noticed when he came back late at night while you were already asleep, from races you couldn’t have gone to. You liked knowing that even when he was exhausted from all the travelling, he still took the time to nestle your body against his before falling asleep with you between his arms. 
As soon as he realised you were awake, Max started peppering the side of your face with kisses which made you giggle and look up at him. There was something really special about the look you gave your boyfriend when you were slowly coming back to reality that he loved. It always looked as if you were falling back in love with him all over again in a matter of seconds. You had the softest look on your face and as far as heart eyes went, yours were probably the most intense someone ever had until Max looked at you with the same intensity and his entire face lit up, his eyes twinkling with pure adoration before he broke the silence and finally spoke.
-" Good morning schatje" he greeted you with a kiss on your forehead
-" Hi Maxie" you mumbled, still sleepy
-" Did you sleep well ?"
-" I alway sleep well when you're here so yes. How about you ?"
-" Great, I had the best human heater next to me."
-" Do you have anything planned today ?"
-" Nope, I'm all yours. Did you want to do anything special ?"
-" Just wanted to stay with you."
-" Do you want me to make breakfast and then we can go walk on the beach ?"
-" That sounds good."
-" Lets go then." Max said, trying to stand up from the bed but you had moved your body half on top of him
-" Schatje, if you want breakfast you're gonna have to get off me."
-" I thought you liked me on top ?" you winked, making the Dutch man blush
-" I do but I also like you alive and well fed so hop off please."
With a groan, you turned on your side, liberating Max who stood up. He tried to convince you to follow him in the kitchen but you needed a few more minutes so after kissing your forehead, Max went to cook breakfast alone. He didn’t mind doing it on his own. Taking care of you when he was here was one of his favourite things to do just to see you smile at him and have you kiss his cheek as a thank you. It was all worth it for your reaction alone. 
Five minutes later, Max felt a pair of arms snake around his waist and your face pressing against his back. He still hadn’t put a shirt back on after sleeping in boxers all night. He never wore much to bed since you were always warm enough for him to sleep almost naked and not freeze. So when you pressed small kisses against his shoulder blades, he almost let go of the coffee cup he was holding, your breath tickling his skin. 
-“ Behave please, schatje.” Max smiled, patting your hands that were resting on his stomach
-“ ‘m not doing anything.” you answered, tightening your grip around him
-“ Not yet but I know you might try something so if you want to eat decent food please wait until I set everything on the table.” 
-“ Can’t promise anything.” Max laughed at your answer before going back to what he was doing. 
Since you had moved in with him, Max found out that he actually didn’t hate slowing down for a bit and enjoying the little things. He just never had someone he loved to do it with until you came along. Now, he loved just hanging around in the apartment, bodies dancing around each other in the kitchen when you were both doing your own thing but still enjoying each other’s presence. He found solace in doing the most mundane things with you. He wouldn’t dare to say it out loud but as long as you were together, everything felt like an adventure. 
Enjoying breakfast together while looking out the balcony was a great way to start the day according to him, maybe even his favourite. You were apparently in a good mood too judging by how playful you were being, stealing bits from his plate with a grin and teasingly nudging his shoulder with yours. If it had been anyone else, Max would have protested a little but there was not much he would get angry at you for so he let it slide, stealing something back for good measure. 
He could have completely forgotten about the walk on the beach he had promised if you hadn’t rushed to get ready as soon as you had finished eating. He followed you with a laugh, trying not to blush at the sight of you in a pretty sundress with your hair falling down your shoulders. You looked radiant with joy and it suited you all too well. Max was glad his actions made you feel this way. In fact, he wasn’t just glad, no. Max was proud to be able to make you happy in a way no one else did because if at first he hadn’t thought himself capable of fully giving you the love he thought you deserved, he now knew that you wanted whatever he was willing and capable of giving you. 
You were more than content with the amount of love you received from your boyfriend and you made sure to make it known and to return the attention because despite his tough exterior, you had been around the Dutchman for long enough to know that there was nothing that touched him more than being loved openly and freely, without conditions. 
The car ride to the beach was spent in comfortable silence, Max’s hand on your thigh as you looked out the window, feeling the wind caress your face. Max tried to steal a few glances your way while he drove but his eyes never stayed long. He was way too careful when he was the one responsible for your well-being. You had tried teasing him about it to make him relax but he was adamant that as your boyfriend, he had to make sure you were as safe as possible. 
You couldn’t really argue with that so you let him be, knowing that as soon as he’d be done driving, you’d be able to play around again. So the moment the car was finally parked, you were bolting out the door, screaming that the last one in the water would be a terrible loser. It didn’t take long for Max’s brain to compute but by the time he started running, you already had a good lead.
However, you hadn’t considered the fact your boyfriend was a literal athlete and that his cardio was considerably better than yours. Before you could even reach the water, Max had catched up to you and effortlessly picked you up, still going towards the sea with a grin on his face. 
-“ Please Max, put me down. Don’t throw me in.” you screeched as he kept jogging lightly
-“ You should have thought about that when you cheated, you little minx.” Max responded, poking your side with his finger as you laughed 
-“ But I had to, otherwise I had no chance of winning. You’re too quick for me, Mr. World Champion” 
-“ Flattery won’t get you anywhere now, schatje. It’s too late”. Max smirked before dropping you in the water, jumping right behind you as you swam further away, your boyfriend close behind
-“ I hate you so much.” you lied, wrapping your arms around his neck, trying your best to swim at the same time before Max wrapped your legs around his waist, bringing you even closer
-“ For the record, I might have let you win if you hadn’t cheated or made me watch you undress and run at the same time.” the Dutchman smiled, pecking your lips 
-“ Who said I lost ?” 
-“ You were the first one in the water, baby. That makes you the loser of your own game.” 
-“ Maybe it was my plan all along…”
-“ y/n, you’re the sorest loser I know. There’s no way you’d plan to lose.”
-“ Well, I don’t care. I’m in your arms right now and we’re at this beautiful empty beach. I intend to make the most of this situation I definitely planned for and kiss you until you get sick of it.”
-“ Sure, whatever helps you sleep at night.” Max chuckled, his whole face lighting up “ We’re going to be here for a while then because I don’t think I could ever get tired of kissing you.”  
-“ Alright then, the first one to stop is a terrible loser.” you smiled with a toothy grin
-“ Schat… Are you sure you can handle another loss today ?” 
-“ Bring it on, lover boy. Less talking, more kissing.”
-“ You don’t have to ask me twice.” he mumbled before pressing his lips against yours, brushing your wet hair away from your face
Maybe you lost the first game but when a family arrived at the beach and their little boy somehow recognised your boyfriend from afar and practically screamed that Max Verstappen was here, Max had to let you go. He wasn’t a fan of PDA, even less when it was around fans but in that moment, he wished he was just to erase the smug grin on your face when he lost the stupid challenge you had set. 
Before heading over to see the boy, Max made sure to peck your lips. He bit your lower lip slightly, not missing the way your face flushed when he did before asking for a rematch when you were back home. You already loved how the day had started but now you were sure that the rest of it would be just as good, if not better. This was just another thing to add to the list of why being home together was your favourite place to be.
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theveil-and-thepath · 7 days ago
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Mini PAC n°1 - What will happen until the end of the week?
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Pile 1 - Pile 2
Pile 3 - Pile 4
You can pick more than one! Just follow your heart!
This is my first time fully using Lenormand cards, let's see how it goes.
*This is a source of entertainment, your destiny is in your hands.*
Pile 1
Wip, star, bouquet, mice, crossroad. Dog, fox, snake. Heart, birds, bear. Birds, garden, snake.
You'll suddenly accomplish something that you greatly desire, but in order for this to happen you'll need to defend your position and status and not let other people bring you down.
This thing you accomplish will have the double effect of solving some of your problems and concerns, and it might make some discontent people who steal your energy leave your life.
You'll interact with several people who are your seniors or more experienced than you. Only one has your true interest at heart, but all three are smart and will teach you new things about how to behave.
You may hear positive gossip about you. Some will say you have more money or are more important than you see yourself.
You may feel, or hear the promise of, the support of a powerful friend.
Keep an eye open in the places you go to this week. You can have fun at a party or event, but some will envy how you look.
Your spiritual protection practices are working, you'll see how you're more resitant to evil eye now.
Pile 2
Anchor, bear, book, heart, cross. Wip, letter, mountain. Coffin, mountain, tower. Snake, wip, ring.
Some of you will meet the love of your life, your counterpart. Maybe it's a new friend. Regardless, it's a fated encounter with someone who's as or more mature than you, stable in life, very smart/went to a good school, this person knows when to shut up and when to talk; try not to get a wrong first impression of them because theyll like you more than they'll convey. Your guides are planning your encounter.
You may start to study something new that you've been meaning to for a while.You may have an insight or receive a tarot reading (can be on youtube) that will help explain your recent love problems.
If you think of an ex this week, it's so that you see it all in a new light and move on, or to remind you how to avoid the same undesired result.
You may receive an email postponing an event or listing extra requirements you need to meet to accomplish a goal of yours.
You need to rest and sleep well before a big day.
Beware of double faced people offering you things too good to be true, perhaps they want you close to them so they can ruin your life more easily.
Be smart against those who are cunning and trying to get rid of you because they see you as competition.
Pile 3
Man, book, rider, lily, woman. Fox, anchor, child. Dog, bear, tree. Tower, heart, anchor.
A relationship you already have may progress this week and this person may reveal positive feelings that they've kept hidden. You may feel that one of your connections originated in past lives.
A good week for school and learning.
To start a new venture, you need to be smart not work hard. You may take a significant step to solidify a new project of yours.
You have great friends and family. This week you'll express your gratitude to the universe for having them. You may even receive help from old friends.
Old relationships become stronger.
This week you'll see how much support you have around you, you'll also be proud of how far you've come and how solid it's the life you've built.
Pile 4
Letter,sun, heart,bouquet, scythe. Tree, mice, wip. Anchor, sun,bouquet. Key, woman,clover.
What a bright and blessed week of reaping your rewards. Someone will compliment your work, give you amazing feedback, may say they want to keep in touch for future endeavors or ask for your number so they can call you on a date.
All the good things you desire? This week you can be so close to them it's just up to you to pick it up and take it for your life.
You receive the yes, the answer you wanted to get.
Your crush will text you, or your partner may ask you out.
If you're in a relationship, texting can turn into sexting, or you'll receive a kiss or offer for a sexy night out of a sudden.
You'll get rid of energy vampires or bad habits that have been draining your energy and slowing you down.
You'll cut off junk food or reject a specific food or drink for the sake of your health.
You may go to the doctor or start a health treatment.
This week feels so good, that some of you will get married or become engaged. May start dating too.
You'll feel your spirit guides close and showing you good things about your future.
You reach the jackpot. Somehow you'll know what you'll have to do so you level up big time.
You may receive the opportunity of a lifetime. Big thing!!! Receive it.
You're so smart and capable that people can't help but admire you.
This week you'll know that you can do it!
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sourcherryandsprinkles · 6 months ago
Note
Aemond on a hot day and going for a swim
This one has been in my wip for so long. Whoever sent this, I am truly sorry
Warnings: 18+, nudity, mention of skinny dipping
my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time
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The weather had been scorching hot in King’s Landing as of lately. It was so hot outside that it was impossible to go in the sun for longer than ten minutes without feeling light-headed. No one knew why it was happening nor when the weather would cool down. You just had to sweat through it.
You were heading out to court in the late morning, fanning yourself as you walked, when a hand caught your arm. 
‘’Where are you going?��’ Aemond's voice cut through the hot air. He wasn't wearing any leather, which was strange to see him without. 
‘’To court. Doreah is waiting for me. She is going to teach me how to thread fans. Would you like one, my love?’’ you asked, offering him a small smile. Your hair was tied back into braids instead of its usual loose waves, helping you stay cool. 
Aemond ignored your question, his jaw tight as he looked up from your dress. ‘’In that attire?’’ 
He never criticized your choice of clothing, letting you dress the way you desired, but he couldn’t let you leave the Red Keep in this dress. Absolutely not. 
‘’I made it myself using an old dress. My handmaiden had taught me to sew.’’ You smiled proudly, giving Aemond a small twirl. ‘’It’s light and breathable. Perfect for hot weather.’’ 
‘’It looks like undergarments,’’ Aemond remarked, his tone tight.
You promised to work on controlling your insolence, but right now Aemond had you rolling your eyes. ‘’It is not.’’ 
‘’I can see your breasts through it, therefore everyone can see them.’’ 
He didn’t want to sound possessive, but your body was for his eye only. Not perverted men at court. It made Aemond sick to even think a man of his court could pleasure himself to the thought of your body. If he ever catches anyone doing so, he wouldn’t hesitate to cut their head — or cock. 
‘’I opted out of a corset today. This heat makes it unbearable to wear.’’
‘’No corset?’’
You shook your head. ‘’No corset. Nothing.’’ 
Aemond raised an eyebrow. ‘’Nothing? As in…no undergarments either?’’ 
You tilted your head, a mischievous glint in your eye. ‘’Exactly, my Prince.’’ 
A group of servants walked by, averting their eyes from you and Aemond.  
‘’I say we walk back to our chambers and you see Doreah tomorrow. It is not appropriate for a lady to walk around dressed so scantily.’’  
‘’I have a better plan.’’ 
*
Aemond thought you had lost your mind when you suggested walking down Aegon’s hill under this heat. You were both sweating and out of breath when you reached the bottom of the hill, but you knew it would be worth it. 
As you were walking, Aemond changed his opinion on your dress. He still thought it was far too revealing to be worn outside your chamber, but when you started swaying your hips while walking, he couldn’t look away. It made his throat dry…and his breeches tight.
A smile curled on your face, seeing your destination in the distance. You pulled Aemond along, his hand sticking with yours from how humid it was. 
‘’We’re there,’’ you declared, standing before a small area of water deriving from the Blackwater Bay. There were a lot of trees around it, which hid it from the ships sailing through the bay. ‘’Let’s go for a swim.’’ 
Swimming sounded nice. He was completely drenched in sweat and the thought of jumping in the water was very tempting. Aemond looked around the secluded area. No one was around to spy on the Prince with his lady. He couldn’t help but notice the sweat dripping down your chest and neck and disappearing into your dress. 
‘’We can’t go swimming. Someone’s going to see us.’’ 
You rolled your eyes. ‘’There's no one here. Ever.’’ You reached a hand out and dragged your finger down the buttons of his linen shirt, slowly unbuttoning them. ‘’Just think of the cool water on your hot skin. Won't that feel nice?’’
Aemond’s breath hitched in his throat as you trailed your finger over his chest. He swallowed. ‘’We shouldn’t… Someone could be watching,’’ he said, his protests were growing weaker and weaker by the second.
‘’Can you quit worrying and just have a swim with me? It's just you and me here. Lose the clothes, my love.’’ You looked up at him, the corner of your lips curled into a mischievous smile. ‘’Besides, the water is deep enough that no one will see your milky white buttocks once you're in.’’
Aemond exhaled deeply through his nose. Your stubbornness knew no bounds.
‘’You’re going to be the death of me,’’ he muttered before finishing unbuttoning his shirt and peeling it off. He began unlacing his trousers, then paused. ‘’And my body does not look like milk,’’ he added dryly.
A giggle left your mouth, amused. You reached for the ties on each shoulder, pulled until they came undone. Your dress fell into a puddle at your feet, exposing you fully. 
Aemond swore his brain stopped working for a moment, his eye drinking in the sight of you completely nude in front of him. Gods, how did he get so lucky? You were a man's dream.
His throat went dry as he took a step forward. He gently placed his hands on your hips, his thumbs moving in small circles. ‘’Are you sure there’s no one here?’’ 
‘’There might be a rabbit or little ducklings...’’ 
It was Aemond’s turn to roll his eye. ‘’Very funny.’’ He finished undressing, pulling his breeches down before stepping out of them. 
You grinned at him. ‘’You love my sense of humor.’’ 
Aemond pulled you flush against him, your clammy skin sticking to his, before tilting your chin up to look him in the eyes. His gaze was dark, almost hungry. ‘’And I love shutting that sarcastic mouth of yours even more.’’ 
His words left you speechless, not expecting that from him. 
To prove his point, he leaned down and captured your lips in a kiss. You grabbed onto his shoulders as it turned deeper, his tongue slipping into your mouth. Heat spread through your body as you kissed, arousal slowly rising, and defeating the purpose of coming down here. 
You pulled away, feeling Aemond’s breath against your lips. ‘’Shall we go in the water before things escalate?’’
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greenplumbboblover · 9 days ago
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[WIP] Lyralei's Pose addon - Part 2
(See previous post: Click me!)
First things first, MASSIVE thanks to @thesweetsimmer111 for all the help to make this work better and sharing her knowledge on Track masks with me (and the world!)
👀 Better Look at (with reactions!)
Maybe it’s just me, but I used to get endlessly frustrated when Sims wouldn’t properly turn their heads to face an item. So, I set out on a little mission to make their head movements more natural! Unfortunately, that didn’t go as planned—turns out EA’s code for the “Look At” feature is completely deprecated and no longer functional.
Knowing I couldn’t just code a fix, I had to explore other approaches. That’s when @thesweetsimmer111 came up with a brilliant solution: blending left, right, up, and down poses to create a more convincing look-at effect! 🎉
(See: Post)
What's different?
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Here's the original pose, without Look at turned on....
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On the left, we got VA's original look at.
On the right is what Savanita and I came up with! :)
don’t want to make it seem like the original Look At feature was awful—it actually works pretty well in some cases! For example, in this pose, if the plant were on the other side, the difference wouldn’t be that noticeable since her head is already tilted slightly. 😊
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(Same layout again: Left = VA's, Right = Me and Savanita's approach)
Plus, maybe you do want something more subtle, then VA's Look at is great!
Anyways! Of course, I couldn't stop there! Now, your sim has a few options of turning towards the object:
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(Note, this list will get 10x cooler in the next feature ;D)
This list is what the "trackmasks" are. :)
Okay, let's give "Eyes Only" a try. So, we expect Morgana to ONLY look at the plant, with her eyes.
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(Left is before using look at, Right is with look at, and one up for fun-cies)
And, to please @nocturnalazure's wishes, yep! It now accepts Facial Expressions! :D
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(I never would've thought I would see Evil Morgana lmao)
🎭Blending Poses/Reactions
After Savanita's amazing idea of using Track Masks, I found out that I can apply that same technique on, well, poses! And this is a feature I'm SUPER proud of (And honestly, it's taken me an entire week to get working 🙃)
First things first, when we choose the interaction, we will first be greeted by our "trackmask" list with all the selections on it
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So, I made a few examples to show of what you could do, but in all fairness, it's endless!
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Here I chose the option "Both Arms".
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Here I chose "Head And Neck". Look! She even has the expression! (Don't worry though, i also have an expression-less version in the making ;))
What about... Animations?!
While blending poses has the ability to also type in your pose names by name, rather than list, you can also use EA's!
The list is pretty long ( believe 200 entries?) but here is a sneak peek:
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Though, as far as I've been able to tell, EA reactions aren't as flexible, where I can tell it to only use the arms, or the eyes. Instead, we got these options:
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So, unless I found a way to get around it, this is the only way to do it.
But without further ado....
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Here I used the same pose(left) as the last 2 pictures, but with "OverlayHead". And chose "Boo"
(I just realised it looks like she is about to get hit by a ball lol)
🕰️ History List
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The Add-on now remembers your pose history!
Whether you’re a dedicated “Pose by Name” user or prefer the simplicity of “Show by List”, both options now display your pose history for quick reference.
Note: Each Sim has their own individual history list. This means you’ll only see the pose history for Sim X when clicking on them, and not for Sim Y.
📓What's up next?
Adding all the trackmask. (I still need add the hands and legs ones)
Adding an in-game Category maker, so you don't have to edit the XML. It will mean you need to replace the XML file in S3PE yourself. But I can always make a quick How-To for guidance 😉
(Note to self) Optimize the Categorisation code. It's currently taking 1 minute up from the loading screen 😬)
Fixing some minor bugs where Look at will still turn the sim's head back to it's original position.
Fixing some issues where Blending poses with certain track masks aren't working well or at all.
Fixing an issue where the dialogs can crash the whole game (woops!)
Sooo, I think a release date is pretty soon! I think within a week :)
Any VA Addon Bug Fixes?
Of course! It's the mod that inspired me to make stories, and even get to make this mod! I couldn't just... leave it to collect dust while it's other child mod is getting all the attention. :p
Changelog:
There is now an interaction that uses both look at & reaction simultaneously. (In case you don't want to use my look at interaction).
Fixed an issue where reactions would sometimes or never show on the sim.
Fixed an issue where using "Random Quick Poses" would occasionally show a breathing sim, doing nothing.
Fixed an issue where certain poses get called twice, making it harder to keep reactions or even look at history data.
Some minor code changes that aren't worth mentioning honestly.
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loganwritesprobably · 5 months ago
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Jealousy Headcanons
Wanted to switch up the character combo, but I know I have a good few Benn fans reading my stuff so I ofc had to include him
Content/Warnings: Jealousy headcanons about Mihawk, Benn and Smoker, GN!Reader, brief mentions of canon-typical violence, minor NSFW content
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Mihawk didn't know he was the jealous type until he met you
He'd gone so long without a partner and been content that way, that if he'd really considered it he'd have assumed he would be a relaxed partner
He is not
He discovered that he's a possessive partner, and you are his
If someone approaches you in public, he begins with surprised amusement - when you're with him, few are brave enough to approach
He won't stop you from making new friends, he's not controlling, but he will keep one eye on the conversation for signs of distress
He's possessive, jealous, and a bit of a mother hen
If they persist, even after you've turned them down, he of course intervenes and usually does so quite violently
He's killed at least a dozen people for touching you in the wrong place, and he is prepared for that number to continue to increase
Mihawk doesn't mind if you have friends who are the same gender as you're attracted to, doesn't care at all actually - he's glad that you have friends since he's prone to being away for long periods
But, he isn't afraid to speak his mind if he feels that you, or one of your friends, has crossed a boundary (thankfully, he's not the arguing kind)
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Benn was far more jealous as a younger man, but he mellows out with age
As a young man, he would treat potential other suitors to broken bones on good days
He'd follow anyone who'd given you a hard time half way home and leave them writhing in the street
He also loves to fuck when you get home after a night where he's had to watch you entertaining other people
He's only too happy to speak up in the moment, catching people off guard with his to stiff to actually be polite attitude
In his older age, he's far more secure in your relationship
He knows that these younger models can try to sway you, but he's the one you'll be coming home to
The jealous sex is still incredible, that never goes away
He also likes to brag about you as an older man, to the people he would've previously been jealous over
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Smoker is the quiet type when it comes to jealousy
He doesn't approach in the moment, preferring to sit back and observe
He knows you're not unfaithful
But he hates that other people can occupy your attention - he wants it for himself
He thinks you're too good for him, but he's also a selfish man
Afterwards, he makes it clear just how jealous he was
The moment you're away from crowds, he'll have you pinned up against walls and be whispering in your ear
Sex always happens after he's been jealous, and it's rough, desperate sex
He revels in knowing just how many people are jealous of him because hell - look at you
But he does also tend to smoke his cigars a hell of a lot faster in those jealous moments
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Help me decide what I'll do to celebrate 200 followers
Requests are open! See below links for my other works, and how to leave requests. I write both canon/canon and canon/reader requests for your enjoyment
AO3 | Fanfic Masterlist | Request Rules | Fic Trades Guide | WIPs
Tags: @claryeverlarkf @uselessboots
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macbethsymphony · 6 months ago
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Bb!!!!! Ok! Hear me out!!!!! Bartolomeo fucking you like a whore then later learns you’re a strawhat!!!!!! 
-M✨
MILLIE!!!!! YOU KNOW I’M FUCKING UNHINGED ABOUT THIS MAN!!!! Ok but like YES!!!! Hear me out for a sec.
It’s purely transactional, you’re looking to get fucked and so is he.
He’s all teeth and tongue as he slams you to the door of the dingy hotel room you’re staying at. He so fucking big and the way his fingers tangle roughly in your hair, guiding your head however he wants as his tongue dominates yours is downright dizzying.
When he pulls away, it’s with that shit eating grin and you’re breathless and your knees feel weak. He harshly pulls your head back and you’d struggle a bit out of principle if only you weren’t already struggling to keep yourself upright already. His other hand travels to your jaw and his fingers dig in painfully, forcing it open.
“You like that, huh?” His eyes search yours, looking for confirmation. His smirk widens as sees it, the raw desire, the want in your gaze. He spits in your mouth, his hand moving from your jaw to your mouth, bitter pads of his fingers mixing his spit and yours, dangerously close to your throat.
“Just like a fucking whore,” he chuckles, fingers so far he’s making you gag. And you can feel yourself dripping at the degradation, at the satisfaction in his gaze.
He unceremoniously chucks you on the bed. Doesn’t even bother pulling down your underwear, just pulls your skirt up and slides the drenched fabric to the side before his tongue meets your heat without warning. Goes right down to business. The metal of his tongue piercing against your clit makes you see stars and he brings you so near the edge. He’s uncaring in the force of his fingers digging in your flesh, inevitably leaving bruises behind.
He stops as you feel yourself teetering, almost there. And as you open your mouth to protest, he sneers down at you and harshly pulls your panties off, stuffing them in your mouth. The taste of your arousal strong on your tongue.
Before you can react he flips you over, trapping your thighs between his. You try to scramble up but you feel his grip in your hair as he pushes you back down. The sound of of him undoing his belt is loud in the silence of the room.
He slides in easily, his teeth sinking in your shoulder. One of his hands finds your clit, balancing the fine line between pain and pleasure as he draws out blood.
When Bartolomeo finally starts fucking you, he fucks you rough. The hand he has in you hair pushes your face ruthlessly into the musty sheets of the motel as he pounds mercilessly into you. The squelching sound is obscene and the bed creaks and slams loudly against the wall with each of his thrusts.
Your drool seeps past the thin fabric of your ruined underwear mixing with tears and snot into the rough weave of the covers and your fingers claw desperately, catching into snapping threads. Your muffled moans are desperate, stuck at the back of your throat, coming out closer to sobs as you struggle for breath. Each time his teeth sinks into your flesh a sharp cry escapes you and his attention to your clit intensifies.
You’d already been so close just with his tongue and between the ecstasy of his fingers and the ruthlessness of his cock, he brings you over the edge repeatedly, your cunt twitching around him.
When he’s over with you, his seed hot against your back and your thighs, he simply slaps your ass one last time and leaves without uttering a word.
So when Bartolomeo sees you in that house on top of the hill, chatting and laughing along with your crew, bite marks and bruises still fresh on your skin, he can’t fucking believe it. And when his beloved Luffy-senpai introduces you as a member of the crew he can feel the blood draining from his face and he can’t help but reconsider his decisions of the past night.
FUCK I really should make this a full fic… adds it to the WIP list
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