#with that dumb quirk of his eyebrows too

[st4rfckerz]

if you try walking away after mouthing of to him, logan will be so quick to grab you by your hair and reel you back towards him. ESPECIALLY in public, he doesn’t care if anyone sees.

[rafedarling]

Drew losing his wedding ring 🤫 but he left it behind at home and y/n finds it inside his laundry basket she goes shit crazy looking for it and since y/n know she plays dumb wanting to teach him a lesson and she’s like baby I’m getting our rings cleaned l tomorrow can you leave your ring on the counter and he’s just rambling and coming up with excuses Intill he finds his ring will Drew continue to lie or confess

cute!!!

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠

pairing: drew starkey x fem!reader

summary: drew, your husband who accidentally leaves his wedding ring in his laundry basket, prompting you, his wife to find it while doing laundry. instead of confronting him immediately, you decides to teach him a lesson by pretending not to notice while teasing him about getting plan taking your rings to cleaned.

warning(s): english is not my native language. fluff, humor, and playful teasing, slight secondhand embarrassment, wholesome, domestic vibes.

au: like, reblog and feedback are much appreciated. discussion can be send through my ask box, please feel free to send in anything. ⭐️ taglist | tagging: @rubixgsworld @rafeyslamb @bisexualcvnt @tracymbcm @maybankslover @anamiad00msday @stuffyownswrld @httpsdrewstarkey @mileyraes @enjoymyloves @akobx @noobmazter69 @victwrvale @xoxohoneymoongirl @xoxosblogsblog @wearemadeofstardust0 @saviorcomplexrry @percysley @littlelamy @winniemoe @emberaurora

It had been a long but pleasant evening, and as you glanced at the overflowing laundry basket in the corner of your bedroom, you figured it was time to tackle it. Drew was lounging on the couch, flipping through TV channels, blissfully unaware of the mischief you were about to stir up.

Laundry had become a bit of a ritual for you both; a chore that came with its own rhythm and quirks. Drew was the “dump-it-all-in-and-hope-for-the-best” type, while you meticulously checked pockets and separated clothes by color. And it was during one of these pocket inspections that you felt something hard and metallic inside the pocket of his jeans.

You pulled it out and froze.

His wedding ring.

Your brows knitted together as you stared at the small band in your palm. Drew was practically married to his ring he wore it everywhere, even in places he didn’t need to, like the gym or while swimming. It had been a running joke between you that he might as well glue it to his finger. So, finding it stuffed in his laundry was unusual, to say the least.

You chewed on your lip, debating whether to call him out immediately or let him stew a little. Then, with a devilish grin across your face. You slipped the ring into the pocket of your pajama pants, decided not to mention it, and returned to the living room. You’d let him sweat it out.

When you entered, Drew was crouched by the couch, pulling cushions off and muttering to himself.

“Babe, what are you looking for?” you asked, keeping your tone as neutral as possible.

Drew froze mid-search, then quickly straightened up.

“Oh, uh… nothing. Just… the remote.” He gestured vaguely to the couch, his voice a little too high-pitched to be believable.

You raised an eyebrow.

“The remote? The one sitting on the coffee table?”

You pointed at the remote, lying in plain sight directly in front of him.

“Oh.” He let out a nervous laugh, grabbing it. “Right. That one.”

You fought to keep a straight face as you handed it to him.

“Here. Anything else you’re looking for?”

“Nope! All good.”

He said it too quickly, his voice strained, as if he was trying to convince himself.

“Mm-hmm,” you murmured, heading back to the bedroom.

Once you were out of sight, you retrieved the ring from your pocket and tucked it into your jewelry box for safekeeping. If Drew was going to lie, you’d at least make it entertaining.

The next morning, you were up a bit late and padded into the kitchen to find Drew already there, nursing his coffee. His hair was adorably messy, sticking up in all directions, and he was wearing your favorite flannel pajama pants the ones you swore made him look cozier than ever. He grinned when he saw you.

“Morning, babe. Coffee?” he offered, gesturing to the pot.

“Yes, please.”

You slid onto the stool at the counter, resting your chin in your hand as you watched him pour. That’s when your eyes zeroed in on his left hand still missing the ring. You couldn’t resist any longer.

“Drew,” you began casually as he placed the cup in front of you, “uh…where’s your ring?”

He froze, fingers tightening slightly on his mug.

“Oh, uh… my ring”

He cleared his throat and quickly recovered, spreading his hands in front of him as if to inspect them.

“Right. My ring. I, uh, must’ve taken it off when I was… washing my hands last night. You know how slippery soap gets.”

You nodded slowly, playing along.

“Slippery soap. Got it.”

He relaxed slightly, clearly thinking he was off the hook, and took a long sip of his coffee. But you weren’t done yet.

“You know,” you said, feigning nonchalance,

“I was thinking we should take our rings in for a cleaning. They’ve been looking a little dull lately. How about I drop them off at the jeweler tomorrow?”

Drew nearly choked on his coffee. “Uh… cleaning?” he repeated, his voice cracking slightly.

“Yeah,” you said sweetly. “You can just leave your ring on the counter before work, and I’ll take care of it.”

For a split second, you thought he might actually combust.

“Oh, uh, sure! Totally,” he said, his voice pitched high with panic.

“I mean, it’s probably… in the bathroom. Or… maybe on the nightstand? Or, uh—” He stopped himself, clearly spiraling.

You tilted your head, giving him your most innocent look.

“Are you sure you know where it is? You seem a little… distracted.”

“I know exactly where it is,” he insisted, though the way his eyes darted toward the ceiling betrayed him.

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Oh, I’m not worried.”

You sipped your coffee, pretending to be absorbed in your phone.

“I mean, it’s not like it’s that important, right? It’s just a ring.”

Drew’s head snapped up, his expression stricken.

“It is important!” he blurted out, a little louder than necessary. “I didn’t lose it, okay? I—uh…I just… misplaced it. Temporarily.”

“Of course,” you said, nodding sympathetically.

“That makes total sense.”

He let out a shaky breath, clearly not realizing you were toying with him. Over the next few hours, Drew became increasingly frantic, sneaking off to various rooms to search for the ring. You caught him rifling through the bathroom drawers, peering under the bed, and even checking the fridge at one point.

By evening, he was sitting on the couch, head in his hands. His usual confident demeanor had crumbled, and guilt was written all over his face. You decided it was time to put him out of his misery.

“Drew,” you said softly, sitting beside him, “is there something you want to tell me?”

He looked up at you, his blue eyes filled with regret.

“Okay, fine,” he admitted, throwing his hands in the air.

“I lost my ring. I don’t know how, I don’t know where, and I’ve been freaking out about it all day. I didn’t want to tell you because I thought you’d be mad, and”

You reached into your pajama pocket and pulled out the ring, holding it between your fingers.

“Looking for this?” you asked, unable to hide your grin.

Drew stared at the ring, his jaw dropping.

“Are you kidding me?” he asked, his voice a mix of disbelief and relief.

“I found it in your laundry last night,” you explained, laughing.

“I wanted to see how long it would take for you to confess.”

He groaned, leaning back against the couch.

“You’re evil, you know that?”

“Maybe a little,” you admitted, sliding the ring back onto his finger. “But you deserved it for lying to me.”

Drew pulled you into his arms, burying his face in your hair.

“I’m never taking this off again,” he promised, kissing your temple.

“Oh you better not,” you teased. “Or next time, I might just pawn it.”

He laughed, shaking his head.

“Remind me never to underestimate you.”

“Smart man,” you said, leaning against him with a satisfied smile.

[tw1sters]

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ husband? never heard of him.

When Jake stumbles into your office attempting to flirt with you, all you can do is humor the fact that your husband seems to have forgotten you.

▸ PAIRING: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Wife!Reader ▸ WARNINGS: Pure fluff, slight amnesia, injured Jake, sexual jokes ▸ WORD COUNT: 1.6K ▸ A/N: wrote a quick small idea because i love a good secret relationship and a flirty hangman

The crash outside piques your curiosity. You abandon the latest report you’re working on and get up to swing open your door right on time for a certain blonde aviator to spill into the infirmary. Jake barging into your office is not news; he barges in probably more than he really should, particularly when you’re with patients.

“Boundaries” becomes the most used word in your relationship. 

Only thing is, this time, he’s looking at you with big, surprised eyes. The tinges of blue around his emerald eyes are even more prominent when they’re blown up. “Who allowed you to look this good, Doc,” he says with a swagger in his step, eyes droopy now as he leans against the doorframe. 

Before you can question him, Rooster walks through the door, a pitying look at Jake. “He’s on the good stuff. Maybe too much of it.” You quirk an eyebrow. “Sedatives.”

Your eyes dart briefly to Jake who is still eyeing you with interest but now he has taken over your chair, propping his chin up on his palm with his elbow on your desk. That smug smile, albeit a little sleepier, is still plastered across his face. 

“He crashed earlier–” The smile wipes off your face quickly and Rooster instantly adds, “Nothing big, managed to get out, but he landed wrong cause he ejected too close to the ground. We had to take him to the hospital. Most of it’s around his ribs, but he’s okay.” 

Drifting over to Jake, you cup his face and tilt him to look up at you. While he’s busy giving you dark, flirty glances, you are checking him for any signs of permanent damage. He has a few scratches on his face, you notice now the new band-aid he’s sporting on his cheek. 

You’re on your knees then and you’re slowly unbuttoning his uniform. If he’s really injured here, he should probably be wearing something more breathable. You remember he packed an extra short-sleeved shirt this morning. 

“Whoa, at least take me out to dinner first,” Jake teases, which earns a roll of your eyes. 

“Told his dumb ass he should be going straight home but he insisted on making a pit stop here. Something about getting a second look. He might’ve also said something along the lines of visiting the pretty doctor.” Your eyes snap up to Rooster, who holds his hands up in defense. “His words, not mine.”

Humored, you look at him playfully, accusingly. “So you don’t think I’m pretty?”

“That’s not what I said!” Rooster immediately replies, face flushing crimson. “Anyways, before I dig a deeper hole for myself, I’m going to leave him in your very capable hands. Whenever he’s done, one of the guys can drop him off at home.”

“I’m going to wrap up soon so I've got him, don’t worry.”

“You got his address?”

You fight to keep a straight face. “Yeah, it’s on his records.”

“Awesome, thanks, Doc. See you tomorrow.” With that, Rooster makes his exit, the door slamming shut behind him.

You wait a moment and thank the heavens that Jake has the false reputation of being an incorrigible flirt. That will hopefully throw off any suspicion of your relationship. 

When you know you’re in the clear, you inspect Jake a little more closely. There are bandages wrapped around his abdomen and you wonder how severe the accident was if they had to give him sedatives. Then again, it’s entirely possible that Jake was being a little bitch and they gave it to him just to shut his mouth.

Aside from the minor injuries, he seems to be in pretty good shape. Physically at least.

Mentally – you look up at him and he’s still smiling stupidly at you – he’s perhaps not quite there yet.

“Jake, honey, I’m going to need to move you to the bed.”

“So soon?” His eyes blow up comically before the expression falls away to a confident grin. “I’m ready whenever you are.”

A disgruntled sigh slips past your lips. Even when he’s drugged up, he still manages to be insufferable. You position his arm around your shoulders and slowly help him to his feet. Jake leans his weight on you, but more so because he really likes being this close to you. The man is heavy to say the least. All six feet of him. You lead him carefully towards the infirmary bed with him nuzzling into your hair the entire time. 

He hums thoughtfully and grins against the side of your head. His hot breath tickles your neck right as you plop him on top of the comforter. He avidly refuses to lie down, instead scooching his way in until he’s sat with his back against the wall. 

Jake turns to you, grinning smugly with teeth in full view.

“Damn, darlin’, you smell so good. Do you have a boyfriend?”

You’re just sitting down on the edge of the bed when you hear it and freeze. “Come again?”

“Sweetheart, we haven’t even come once,” Jake retorts, seeming all too pleased with his joke. The ‘we’ is cute, very considerate of him to include both of you in the conversation. However, you’re too distracted by his question. 

“You’re asking me if I have a boyfriend.” You repeat, incredulous. 

Jake nods aggressively, likely jumbling his head even worse. 

A smile tilts the corner of your lips. You raise your left hand, showing him the back of it. “I’m married actually.”

“Married?” He gasps, completely aghast. He looks crestfallen and then stares at the ring in annoyance. “I mean, of course, you’d be married. You’re so smart, and so pretty. You also embarrassed Rooster? God, you’re fuckin’ perfect. Who’s the lucky person? Do I know them? Are they on base?”

“You do know him, very well in fact. He is on base.”

A growl rises from his throat. “He better watch his back, I’ll get him if he even thinks about slipping once.”

“Really? How would you do that?”

“I could fight him.”

You chuckle. “Right, you’ll fight him. That might be a little hard.”

“Why is that?”

“He’s pretty tough. He’s tall. Very strong. Very handsome too.”

Jake scowls. “Alright, so he’s Mr. Perfect because you’re also perfect. Well, if I ever catch him not being perfect, I’m going to swoop in for the kill. Neither of you will ever see me coming.”

A grin stretches across his face at your laugh. “Good to know, Seresin. I’ll make sure to warn him.”

“Hm, so you’re really married,” Jake repeats again in a deep, disappointed sigh. He takes your left hand in both of his, looking down at the spectacular rock on your hand. He lets out a low whistle before he grimaces, realizing who he’s complimenting. 

Actually, not even realizing who he’s complimenting. 

“He did good, your husband.” Jake turns your hand, letting the diamond catch the sunlight. The facets sparkle, speckling the room with blinding polka dots. “Gorgeous ring for a gorgeous girl.”

Heat creeps up your cheeks. “Thank you.” You pause before dropping another bomb on him. “I should also probably tell you that you’re also married.”

Jake jerks back, nearly getting whiplash from how quickly he turns to look at you. “I am? To who? I think I’d know if I was married.”

“A very lucky woman.” 

“Well, shit.” Jake grunts. “Well, if I married her, then I’m sure she’s as perfect as you.”

“Probably more alike than you think,” you mutter under your breath. 

Jake is smiling at you softly and you see his eyes begin to close. His eyelids flutter, struggling to stay open. It’s as if he is striving to commit your face to memory. “I think I’m kinda sleepy, Doc.”

“Well, you best get your rest then.” 

“When I wake up, if you happen to be single, you let me know right away. Or even before I wake up, that might just do the trick.”

“You got it, Hangman.”

–

“I had the strangest dream,” Jake tells you on your drive home. 

He’s in the passenger seat, his head still spinning a little from the heavy slumber. He had woken up when everyone else was long gone and found you flipping through your novel, waiting for him. He didn’t seem to remember what happened just an hour prior, so you let it play out, told him he just slept the entire time. 

“Hm, what about?”

“I was flirting with this woman,” he says, sounding even more confused than you should be. “I promise, sweetheart, I’d never hit on anyone else. I haven’t hit on anyone else, not since that time I flirted with you when you first joined.” 

You hide your smile, focusing instead on the road. “Yeah, was she pretty?”

Clearly, a part of him does think so because he hesitates before responding. “Would you be upset if I said she was? I can’t even remember her face. I just remember thinking she was so fuckin’ stunning.” 

“Should I be concerned about this fictional woman?” 

“Definitely not,” Jake scoffs, crossing his arms over your chest. “Dream woman could never compare to you. The real deal.” 

You let out a little mm-hmm as you pull out something from your pocket. His dog tag dangles from your hand, glimmering right next to the wedding band he keeps around his neck. “Rooster gave it to me before he left. Said you dropped it in your landing.”

He gratefully accepts the necklace and clasps it around his neck. “Thank you, did he ask about the–you know.” 

“You mean your wedding ring? The one you’ve been wearing since you married me a year ago? The one you keep secret from your squadmates because no one knows you’re married and you let them believe you’re still a cocky, unbearable flirt?” 

Jake laughs. “That’s the one.”

“Yes.”

“And what did you say?”

You smirk, “Told him it was a purity ring.”

“Darlin’,” he groans, “I have a reputation to maintain.”

divider credit: @cursed-carmine

[saatorus]

— you just really have the biggest crush on your boyfriend sukuna , for some odd reason.

1.4k wc. warnings—suggestive, but mostly just fluff.

a/n. quick thing i whipped up because i can’t sleep and this is my reward for studying :3

You don’t really know how to explain it sometimes. It’ll happen at the most random of moments. You’ll just be sitting there, peacefully watching Netflix or something, bundled up on the couch in a hoodie twice your size (belongs to him), when he’ll walk in—loud footsteps stomping through your apartment like he owns the place (he kinda does), letting the door slam behind him with a grunt that barely passes as a greeting. Then he leans down, mutters something under his breath you don’t even catch, and kisses you. Softly. Briefly. Like it’s nothing.

Scratch that. Like it’s everything.

His kiss is always in direct contrast to how he acts the second you’re in the same vicinity, like he totally doesn’t want to be kissing you—except he’s always the one to do it first. Always the one seeking you out like some subconscious pull he doesn’t know how to fight.

Or when you’re doing something as mundane as washing the dishes. Lost in your little dissociative bubble, just vibing with the warm water and the clinking of plates. He comes up behind you without a sound this time, which is rare, and just stands there. And that alone has your stomach flipping.

Giddiness?

You feel like a teenager, like one of those girls in the early 2000s movies clutching their hearts as their crush walks past in slow motion. It’s stupid. You’re literally washing dishes. And he’s just standing there. But then his arms come around you from behind, thick and warm and solid, and he gruffly mutters something about how he should be doing the dishes tonight.

You don’t even know what he’s saying. You can’t process anything except his chest against your back, his chin on your shoulder, the way he exhales like being near you soothes something he’ll never admit out loud.

It happens again when he’s sitting on the couch, groaning low and frustrated at his laptop. His pink hair messy, eyebrows drawn together, mouth forming that irritated pout he always gets when he’s trying to concentrate. It happens when you walk past him, catching his eye mid-stride, and he just stares at you—blank and deadpan, but it does something to you. You grin, and the corner of his mouth quirks up before he shakes his head like you’re the ridiculous one.

It happens when your fingers brush as you pass him the salt. When his thigh, firm and warm, presses into yours while you sit side by side watching some dumb movie you’ve both seen three times already. When you hear the steady sound of his breathing in the middle of the night, and suddenly everything feels safe.

You may or may not have a tiny crush on your boyfriend.

Yes. Boyfriend.

You don’t know how it happened—he’s loud, he’s rough around the edges, he’s snarky to a fault—but you’re hopelessly, embarrassingly, irrevocably enamoured with him.

You stare at his back muscles in the mornings as he sits up, groggy and shirtless, scratching the back of his head. You trace the tattoos that stretch over his strong arms, his back, his chest. You memorise the sound of his laugh, the one he tries to cover with a cough when it’s too genuine. You still get that blooming feeling in your chest—like fireworks in reverse, soft and warm instead of loud and blinding.

The same feeling from middle school crushes, from sneaking glances in high school corridors, from scrolling through fanfiction about a character you were fixated on. The same feeling from that first motorcycle date, when he’d wordlessly handed you a helmet like he wasn’t nervous at all (he was). The same feeling as that very first kiss, the one that left you dizzy and kicking your feet like a tween.

Genuinely just a big, fat fucking crush.

And now you’re in bed with him, curled into his side, and he’s shirtless, wearing those stupid grey sweatpants that do something to your brain. His pink hair’s tousled, messier than usual, falling over his forehead in soft strands. He’s scrolling on his phone, attention half on you and half not, but you’re clinging to him anyway.

“Hello,” you say with a grin, arms wrapping around his torso as you burrow into his warmth. He smells like that stupidly expensive cologne he always wears—the one you told him made him smell “exactly what I wanted to experience when I’m ovulating,” which earned you a smirk and a very not safe for public comment.

“Fuck you mean hello? You think you’re Adele or somethin’?” he grunts, but his hand slides into your hair, fingers scratching lightly at your scalp before he leans down and kisses your cheek, hoisting you effortlessly into his lap like it’s nothing. (There it is again—the swooping, heart-flipping feeling.)

You blink at him, properly taking in his face up close. The sculpt of his jaw. The way his mouth curves naturally, even when he isn’t smiling. The faintest red tint to his irises, which always makes your heart race just a little faster. He’s beautiful in a way that shouldn’t be allowed.

“Oi. Quit starin’ at me like that, woman. ‘S fuckin’ weird,” he mutters, scowling at you, but it’s undermined by the soft way he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear and gently pinches your cheek lovingly.

“Sorry,” you mumble, eyes still locked on his. “You just look really good. Do I ever tell you that? That you look really good? ‘Cause you do. All the time.”

You kiss his face lightly—nose, cheeks, jaw—pressing little pecks across his skin while he sits there suffering through it with dramatic sighs and minimal resistance.

“Christ. You’re so fuckin’ weird,” he mutters, grabbing your face with one large hand and smushing your cheeks together until your lips pucker. There’s a barely-there blush across his cheekbones that he definitely pretends doesn’t exist.

He narrows his eyes. “And for the record, you annoy the absolute shit outta me. Always goin’ on about how I look like this, how I look like that. Shut up, won’t you?”

But his thumb is skating across your lower lip again, his eyes softer than they were a second ago. No heat behind the words. Never is, really.

“Kuna,” you murmur, eyes crinkling as you press another kiss to his thumb, “I think I have a crush on you.”

He blinks. Then huffs out a low, lazy laugh, shaking his head. “Yeah?” he says, voice rough, teasing. “Bit late for that, ain’t it?”

And then he pulls you in, arms locking around you as he leans back against the pillows and lets you bury yourself into his chest—grumbling under his breath the entire time, but never letting go.

You can’t help but smile, your cheek pressed against the ink and warmth of him.

You’ve got a crush on your boyfriend.

You’re tracing patterns on his bare chest now, fingertips ghosting over his tattoos like you’re trying to memorize the exact grooves of his skin. He exhales slowly, eyes half-lidded, arm heavy and warm across your back.

“Keep doin’ that,” he mutters, voice low and silky, “and I’m gonna start thinkin’ you’re tryna get somethin’ outta me.”

You blink up at him innocently, chin on his chest. “And what if I am?” you ask, trying not to grin.

He scoffs, hand dropping to your waist, fingers pressing just enough to make your stomach flutter. “Tch. Figures. Can’t even cuddle me without havin’ some hidden agenda.”

“It’s not hidden,” you murmur, tilting your head slightly so your lips brush against his collarbone. “I’m being very transparent.”

You feel more than hear the low growl that rumbles in his chest, like you just challenged him and he’s all too happy to rise to the occasion.

“Is that so?” he says, hand sliding a little lower now, hand gripping your ass through your lounge shorts. “You sure you’re ready to back up that pretty little mouth of yours? Or you just talk big?”

You hum, pretending to think, your lips brushing higher, close to the hollow of his throat. “Maybe I’m just desperate for attention.”

He snorts, but there’s a hint of a grin tugging at his lips. “No shit,” he says, but his other hand comes up to cradle the back of your head, tilting your face up to look at him properly. “Lucky for you, I got a bit of time to kill.”

And the way he says it—voice low and dangerous but playful, the corner of his mouth twitching with amusement—you know exactly what he means.

“You’re sexy,” you breathe, even as your legs shift over his hips and your fingers curl around his shoulders, anchoring yourself.

“Yeah? Everything about me turns you on?,” he smirks, large hands grasping your hips to move them against his own. “Now quit starin’ at me like I’m some goddamn post on that fucking tumblr app and do somethin’ about this little crush of yours.”

You giggle, right before he pulls you in by the waist and the teasing turns into something deeper—kisses growing slower, more deliberate, his hands mapping out the shape of you like he’s committing it to memory.

Somewhere in between his lips mouthing at your neck and his hand sneaking under your shirt, cupping the warm, fullness of your breasts, he mutters against your skin:

“Still think it’s just a crush, huh?”

You can’t even answer—your thoughts are too hazy, your heart too loud.

But if this is what crushing feels like, you hope it never ends.

i lowkey feel so needy and weird before my period like it’s like ovulation but kind of worse and rn i need to suck on sukuna’s boob sorry i’m severely sleep deprived

[kurooh]

★ MAKE HER TAPOUT ! — JUJUTSU KAISEN

⊹₊˚. featuring gojo satoru, geto suguru, nanami kento, ino takuma, fushiguro toji, & kamo choso fucking you till one of you gives out, or not!

warnings: 18+ content — mdni, fem! reader, creampies, gentle choking, cunnilingus, facesitting, backshots, overstimulation, jet sex, dirty talk, talking him thru it (ino), brief edging, filming.

xoxo, juno: SHES BACKKK 😝

GOJO SATORU # neither, it’s a competition

“aw, sweetheart,” satoru reaches up to thumb away an involuntary tear from your cheek, “you cryin’?”

“no,” you sniffle, and the shake of your voice betrays you. “o-of course not, satoru.”

mirth sparkles in his diamond blue eyes and he hums contentedly, as if he’s pretending to believe you. but of course he is—right now, he has to.

god, you were dumb enough to challenge him once he’d riled you up, and now you’re paying the price. a persistent burn courses through the muscles of your thighs, the exhaustion more than palpable now that you’ve been bouncing on his dick for so long. a messy puddle of cum has pooled around the base of his cock and sticks to your skin each time you sink down, serving as a constant reminder of how long it’s been.

normally, satoru would laugh in your face, then help you fuck him, but he’s choosing to be quiet because seeing you struggle is even more entertaining.

“you don’t have to lie, baby,” he squeezes your hips, allowing his eyes to trace the curves and slopes of your body, to commit them to his long term memory. “y’know, i love watching you ride me. it’s just . . oh, never mind.”

aggressively, you wipe the sweat from your forehead and glare down at him with dewy eyes. even when you’re crumbling into pieces, you manage to remain angry at him. “say it, satoru.”

an irritating smile splits across his face and he bounces his hips up just as you move down, just to punch a gasp out of your lungs. “‘s just that you were so fast earlier, now it seems like you’re struggling after all that talk.”

his cheeks are scarlet and growing darker as something triumphant basks him in its glow. you push at his chest and grind on him more insistently, even though the stimulation feels like bolts of electricity on your sensitive clit. “f-fine, is that what you want? for me to prove myself?”

“maybe.”

satoru watches smugly as you up the pace of your hips, repeatedly slamming down on his cock until you’re ready to give up. he grabs at your soft tits, and pinches at your perked nipples meanly, enjoying the way your cunt spasms around him.

a few tears race down your cheeks, and you glare weakly at him, not yet ready to admit defeat.

“my girl’s so pretty,” satoru whispers, harsh as he rolls your tender nipples between his fingers, “doesn’t she know when it’s time to give up?”

“shut up,” you groan, lower lip wobbling pathetically. this struggling is a hundred times better than being pressed into the mattress and fucked senselessly. “just be quiet, toru, stop running your mouth.”

“me? running my mouth?” he sounds taken aback, mouth agape as he regards you with a offended expression that settles across his flushed features. “sweetheart, please. look at you—”

not too firmly, you wrap your hands around his throat. just the sight has a new kind of arousal flaring inside your body, one that makes your clit feel incredibly sensitive after a single grind of it into his pelvis.

“you’re talking too much,” you hum, voice a little singsongy now that the tables have been turned, “can’t you just let me have this?”

satoru quirks an eyebrow, still challenging you despite blushing darker. “y-you’ve got some serious nerve,” he pants, voice coming out weaker than he’d like it to, “just fuckin’ wait—”

now it’s your turn to rile him up. “whatever,” you roll your eyes, the tips of your nails lightly digging into his soft skin. “maybe if you shut your mouth, i could let you go.”

“oh, you know that’ll never happen,” satoru scoffs quickly, almost as if he doesn’t want you to let go just yet. “you just focus on showin’ me what you’re made of. if you can.”

GETO SUGURU # you ‘tap’ out

when you’d invited geto to make a guest cameo on your onlyfans, you didn’t expect him to pull out all the stops to show you off . .

you wail pathetically, each and every one of your limbs feeling like jelly now. the consistent smacks of his hips into your ass bounces off the walls and only adds to the cacophony in the room—suguru has practically destroyed your pussy, his thick cock reducing it into a wet mess that squeezes him involuntarily whenever he makes noise.

“shit,” his chest heaves behind you, and he flicks his bangs away from his eyes to squint at your phone, “don’t cha look so pretty with me inside, sweetheart? come on, don’t make me lift you up.”

weakly, with as much strength as you can muster, you raise your head to blearily look at your phone screen. it’s constantly lighting up with new, colorful messages in the stream and rather generous donations—suguru has helped you pull in hundreds more than a solo live would’ve.

-> kchomo: she’s beautiful!

-> tfushoji: pussy made of steel

“s-sugu, ah—‘m still a little sensitive,” you struggle to gasp out, each deliberate plunge of his cock punching the words out of you. before you look into your reflection to confirm your suspicions, you already know he’s got a smug smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.

“that’s even better,” he coos, smacking your ass and slipping his hands beneath your hips. “i’m sure everyone’s, ngh, enjoying the show . . but god, who wouldn’t, especially with a face ‘n body like that?”

suguru groans as he drags you up, positioning you to take his cock at an impossibly deeper angle. you choke on your own drool, hands slipping off of the floor as he moves you however he pleases.

“p-put me down!” you squeak awkwardly, feeling previous loads of cum race down your inner thighs in creamy rivulets, “what’re you—”

“jus’ giving them one last show before it’s time for me to take a bow,” his pierced tongue darts out to lick the sweat glistening at his cupid’s bow. “think you can take it? again?”

it’s more of a challenge rather than a request.

even though you’re spent and dizzy from the scent of sex as well as the feel of it, you’re ready to push through. after all, how long has it been since you’ve ever been fucked this good?

“bring it on, suguru,” and you don’t regret it for a second, until his nails claw at your skin when he steadies himself inside you, gearing up to go out with a bang.

“that’s my girl,” your eyes roll back into your head when he develops a pace right out of the gates, all too eager for someone who’s covered your back in cum more than a few times. “fuck, she’s so good. takes a fuckin’ dick like it’s nobody’s business.”

“‘m supposed to—oh my god, right there—be a pro..professional.”

a professional pornstar? more like a fancier way of saying you’re a hungry slut—but suguru doesn’t give a damn, not when you’re sucking him deeper and throbbing around him, almost synced up with the frantic pounding of his heart.

“riiight there, huh?” he can’t help but tease, voice taking on a mocking tone that seems to make the room burn a few degrees hotter, “is this where you want me, sweetheart? all up in this pretty lil tummy?”

oh, he even splays his fingers across your stomach and digs his heel into the soft spot above your pelvis, a move he’d familiarized himself with after combing through your account. for lack of a well formed verbal response, you nod your head, lips parting around breathless moans and pleas. “fuck yes, sugu. i need it, i need more.”

wispy black hairs cling to his forehead, held in place by sweat instead of their usual tight bun. since he’d stepped into your room and greeted your audience, suguru had become quite disheveled, and the thought of complaining never crossed his mind. no, he’d been too lost in you, his longtime porn crush whose page he checked almost daily—he feels his eyes squeeze shut when you cry out his name so loudly your throat will be sore tomorrow.

“oh god, suguru,” you’re entirely limp in his grasp and powerless to the wet squelches of your cunt as he rearranges your insides, “i think i’m gonna fuckin’ cum soon, ‘m so close.”

-> satojo: HELL YES

-> brattybunnny: the way he holds her >>

-> juiceboxbussy: im crying they’re so hot

ecstasy shoots through your veins like electricity, and suguru’s ability to hold back crumbles into nothing when you start to throw your ass back onto him. it’s something that derails the pace he’s set and the plans he had, but you deserve to be spoiled. honestly, after this live, you’ll definitely be inviting him on more often.

like a boat’s propellers, your feet kick out into the air and your toes curl as the tsunami wave of it all starts to crash over you. “i’m—sugu, ‘m gonna fucking cum!”

“all over my cock, baby,” suguru groans, too lost in your pussy to feel the beads of sweat racing down his temples or the burn of exhaustion settling into his muscles, “let—let me feel it.”

so you do, abruptly creaming all over his cock with an obscene whine that tears out of your throat and blesses the ears of every member of the audience. he’s finally able to let go as you’re coming down, pulsing cunt milking him of every drop he can possibly offer.

suguru nearly collapses on top of you once his empty balls clench, but you’re already struggling to hold yourself up without his help. the donations are much more luxurious now that the audience can get better views of your blissed out face and his matching reddened expression.

“let’s start saying goodbye,” he suggests, wincing as he pulls out of you. the air is hot, but it feels like the arctic outside of you—well, at least he can watch the deluge of cum spill out from between your thighs. you’ll be leaking for hours, and some kind of nasty pride swells in his chest at the thought of it. “honey, c’mon. gotta get cleaned up.”

-> satojo donated $150

-> thukuna donated $200 and said: js busted a nut

-> brattybunnny: i know that dick was good asf

-> juiceboxbussy: girl she’s knocked out 😭

NANAMI KENTO # you tap out

“ken,” you gasp just as the thud of a loaded suitcase resonates through the entire jet. the flight crew’s busy loading up what’s supposed to be an empty corporate jet, while kento’s associates busy themselves with odd tasks he’s doled out to them. “but the seats—”

“can be replaced,” he huffs irritably, not liking the fact that you’re busying yourself with pointless worrying over the seats. “sit down, honey.”

“i know that,” nervously, you glance toward the front of the jet, scanning your surroundings to make sure nobody’s coming in. “i, um, don’t want to make a mess before everyone comes in. i mean, what if you get fired because of it?”

as you ramble, you’re unconsciously pulling away from your seat on his face. kento’s gold wedding band catches the light of the sun as he immediately grabs your thighs, yanking you back where he wants you. his patience is wearing thin and if you don’t sit on his face right now, god help him—he’ll start thinking about devouring you in front of his co-workers.

“ah! kento, i don’t think this is a—” you’re powerless now; with his strong arms locked around your legs, there’s no way you can escape. it’s so risky, so dangerous—but the fear quickly boils into arousal that pools like magma in your belly.

happily suffocating beneath you, kento can’t help but smile when he starts to slurp at your messy cunt. it’s obscene, the noises he makes—smacking his lips like he just can’t get enough, grunting as that familiar sweetness settles on his tongue.

your breath hitches in your throat. “k-kennn, baby, you feel so good—but, oh, we don’t have a lot of time.”

for one painful moment, he lifts you up and stares at you with nothing but hunger in his eyes. “remind me about that one more time,” low and menacing, the sound of his voice makes your pussy squeeze in anticipation. “let me enjoy my meal in peace, honey.”

with that, kento firmly sits you on his face once more, and resumes his impatient lapping. his tongue is both soft and rough, forcing a stream of uncontrollable moans out of you. his nose presses into your clit and makes every sensation hit you harder, leaving you a hot mess atop his face.

“move those hips for me,” he lets out a muffled groan, and his eyes roll back once he feels you comply. desperate as ever, you start to rock your hips into him at an unsteady pace—the shaking and trembling of your body throws you off course.

“ngh, like this?” kento’s ears seem to perk once he detects that current of hesitancy in your voice. it’s so cute, the way you’re seeking his praise; his cock twitches in his pants, buried under layers of fabric.

“just like that, angel,” he gasps for breath before going back in—this time, kento starts to sloppily make out with your pussy. his tongue pushes inside and flicks around, experimentally going deeper while he kisses at your folds.

“oh my god,” the words are a euphoric exclamation, the kind that comes before an earth shattering orgasm—but then it suddenly switches into panic. “oh my god, kento! y-you’ve gotta stop now, your co-workers, they’re—fuck, they just got here!”

kento’s never been one to allow himself to be rushed. your orgasm, you falling apart on his face—it is much more important than his damn co-workers. he’s made you cum fast before and he can do it again. despite your thrashing, he holds you down against him and amps everything up until you start to sob out his name, choking on each syllable.

“they’re gonna get on the plane,” you sniffle, finally accepting your fate. the leather seats will be soaking wet by the time everyone boards, but there’s nothing else you can do but cum. “ken, ‘m really getting close, ngh.”

you nearly lock eyes with one of his coworkers when all your muscles pull taut and bliss bursts out like fireworks in your body. oh, and out of it too—before you can register what’s going on, cum gushes from your pussy and squirts like rain all over his face. of course, kento drinks in every drop, careful not to waste even one.

your jaw’s hanging open as he licks you straight through your high, greedy as ever so he can purposefully make you squeal. kento’s grip on you loosens and he smirks when you scramble off of him, squeezing your thighs together as your body heaves for breath.

“oh, look at that,” he cheerfully glances down at the leather seats, “you didn’t get anything wet, sweetheart.” except for him, of course.

then, out the window. “those aren’t my coworkers, angel. they’re marshals to guide the jet,” slowly, he turns toward you, eyeing your sticky thighs—rather, what’s between them. “no need to quit so soon, hm? tell me what you want.”

INO TAKUMA # he ultimately taps out

takuma’s more than lost in your pussy—he’s too far in to pull out even if he tried. it always happens so fast, too; from the moment you put it in he nearly goes cross-eyed and tries to think of anything that could help him not to cum. it’s so difficult, though, especially when you’re purposefully squeezing down on him and using your oh so soft hands to urge him closer.

he’s done for.

“takuma, are you—ah—are you okay?” before he could realize what was happening, takuma had instinctively begun to jackhammer his hips into yours. “oh my—mmm, you’re fucking me so well.”

“yeah?” he pants out, fingers scrabbling at your ankle to pull you closer, “g-give yourself some credit too, baby, you’re the one taking it like you were made to.”

it’s just how he is, always stuttering back a compliment whenever you talk to him. a breathy chuckle passes through your lips and is immediately followed by a saccharine moan of his name, a sound that echoes in his head and shoots straight to his twitching dick.

“it’s so hard,” he gasps, feeling an inevitable tingle in his nose and behind his eyes, “so hard to keep it together when you’re lookin’ at me like that. shit, babe, you’re gonna kill me.”

each word grows more frantic with every pleased moan that leaves your lips, and takuma’s gotta force himself to focus on something else. he’d been taught to cum with or after you, a rule ingrained into him that even applies when he’s jerking off.

the tinkling of your anklet near his ear serves as the perfect distraction, until it suddenly reminds him of the sexy position he’s fucking you in. with one leg over his shoulder and the other kicking on the bed, takuma’s cock is able to push deep, into spots you can’t even reach with your fingers.

your chest rises and falls rapidly, plump tits jiggling from all the movement, and his face crumples when you shakily press them down. “‘m gonna cum,” you wheeze, arousal burning like fire through your entire body, “you’re suuuch a good boy, takuma, feels so g-good.”

“don’t say that,” takuma’s pleading with you, shaking his head frantically as his cock starts to throb, “don’t, you’re—hah—gonna make me cum too fast.”

“why not at the same time, honey?” your free leg starts to circle around his waist, drawing him in without leaving an opening for him to escape. “c’mon, takuma, ‘m all yours. just f-fill me up.”

this is an offer he can’t refuse, a ball he absolutely cannot drop—the shakes of his head turn into frantic nods as he accepts, scooping you up to pull you just a few inches closer before he falls off the edge. he’s the cutest, trembling above you and babbling out breathless sweet nothings.

you cum hard on his cock, digging your heel into his lower back as you reach your high. it tears through you and leaves you dizzy, shaking like a leaf beneath his strong body. takuma, on the other hand, is so lost in you that he’s tucked his face into your neck and gasps into your skin. everything is inaudible until he lets out a hushed whine, “ngh, mommy.”

“mmm, takuma,” your nails rake down his shoulders, leaving long red stripes he’ll be proud of when he looks into the mirror. “what was that?”

takuma closes his eyes against you and swallows against the shockwaves of bliss as he empties his balls against your cervix. “h-huh, baby?”

FUSHIGURO TOJI # you will tap out

toji’s unstoppable—once you’re on all fours and throwing your ass back on him, don’t expect to be able to walk without being carried for the next two hours.

“oh my god,” you sob out desperately, voice cracking when you try to speak, “t-toji, it’s—ngh, ‘s too much, i can’t—” 

“doll, be for real,” toji snickers, almost out of breath. it’s been so long you can’t even feel your legs anymore, and he presses his large hands onto your squirming hips as if he’s trying to indent his touch into you forever. “you can take it. ya wanna cum, don’t cha?”

weakly, you look over your shoulder just in time to catch the wolfish grin on his face and the gleam of his pearly whites. his dark gaze scours your body hungrily, as if he’s on the hunt for something plump to sink his teeth into. sweat glistens on his chest, salt settled in the hard lines of muscle that define his body and showcase his strength. “if ya hadn’t been so fuckin’ impatient, i’d have made you cum earlier. but noooo, jus’ wanted to be all dumb, huh?”

“‘m sorry,” a scream nearly tears from your throat after another agonizing thrust of his powerful hips—his tip hits the soft, cushy spot deep inside of your cunt that always has you seeing stars. “toji! i didn’t mean to be a—fuck—a brat, i only wanted—”

“blah blah blah,” he groans, targeting your sweet spot with sharp, deliberate thrusts that make your eyes roll back into your skull. “jus’ shut up, baby. keep talkin’ and i’ll leave ya high ‘n dry.”

it sounds horrible—horrible enough for you to snap your mouth shut and just focus on taking his cock even though your hips occasionally jerk to the side. toji’s dick is huge, long and thick and unbelievably easy to go dumb on. your fingers twitch in the sheets, aching to scratch the lustful itch that torments your swollen clit; but toji won’t let you, not until he wants you to cum.

a long cry of frustration is released into the bed, and the corners of his lips quirk up in amusement. “aw, is it gettin’ to be too much for ya?” he croons, landing a few stinging smacks on your sore ass, “hope you’re not tapping out before i let ya cum, doll.”

“i said i was sorry,” bitterly, the words rush out. “w-why can’t i fucking cum, toji?”

a low wolf whistle trills out into the air. “because you like edging, nasty girl. did i fuck ya dumb enough for you to forget that ya asked me to do this shit to you, huh?”

that’s right. you had asked him to starve you of the euphoria briefly, but now it’s well past the limit. yes, fushiguro toji was no stranger to pushing limits—transcending physical thresholds to build his body into your favorite temple to worship—so naturally, he’s started to train you to do the same.

“that’s not fair,” you whine, feeling the tears building in your eyes, “haa, i’m so close.”

“don’t you dare,” toji hisses, wrapping your hair around his fist and pulling you back easily. “you can wait one more minute.”

he’s cruel, going so far as to rub your clit with his rough fingers to make you waver as you wait for the tortuous minute to pass. heat burns across every inch of your skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake—it’s impossible not to start trembling, teeth chattering as you try to fight off the unescapable high that only seems to move faster toward you. 

“please,” you’re arching all over, nearly collapsing onto your stomach, but he’s got you right where he wants you. “h-hurry up, toji, i can’t hold it anymore—shit!”

“three fuckin’ seconds,” he grunts, the clapping of skin against skin growing louder as the seconds fly by. “‘kay, princess. go ahead and cum alllll over this dick f’me.”

you fall apart on his cock before he can even finish his sentence, cunt clenching hard enough to push him out as you fall forward onto the mattress. the smallest amount of cum squirts from your pussy, and that’s when he realizes he’s not quite done with you yet. toji licks his lips as he watches you writhe, settling onto his stomach to torture you all the more. 

“toji!” you can’t help but squeal when he grabs hold of your hips and licks at your overly sensitive clit, his dark eyes rolling back when he feels your pussy twitching against his tongue. “ugh, wait, ‘m not ready for—”

“ya wanted to cum so bad, didn’t ya? so lay back for me, doll.”

KAMO CHOSO # can’t stop, won’t stop

“hah, ‘m sorry,” choso borderline sobs when he delivers another sloppy, trembling thrust deep into your cunt. you’re folded up and blurry beneath him, all because he can’t seem to control the onslaught of crystalline tears that pool in his eyes. “baby, it’s—you just feel so g-gooddd.”

rampant apologies run out from his mouth, but they never quite land, always fading into nothing by the time he finishes the sentence. it’s not like he means a single one, especially when he can’t stop rutting his hips into yours, chasing both of your highs.

“don’t—mmm, fuck,” you curse when the tip of choso’s cock kisses your cervix, sending a brief sting of both pain and pleasure through your nerves, “don’t worry about it, cho, ‘s okay.”

tears race down his pink cheeks as more build in his eyes, despite his frantic attempts to blink them away. “i jus’ can’t stop, you—you feel too fucking good.”

a wave of heat crashes through him when he sees your eyes roll back, legs squeezing around his slim waist in order to keep him inside you. you’re as eager for his cum as he is to give it to you, along with a final orgasm of your own. his cock may be purple with overstimulation by now, but how could that possibly matter when you’re on the brink of bursting at the seams all over him?

choso chokes on a moan and fucks you harder, ignoring the annoying beads of sweat that roll down his temples and paste his hair down to his skin. even in the middle of winter, just the two of you are able to heat the house up as easily as a furnace could.

“oh my—fuck,” your voice breaks when you try to speak, looking deliciously dazed when your bleary eyes finally focus on his own, “y-you’re gonna make me cum again, cho, if you keep that pace—”

“fuckin’ give it to me,” choso begs, raspy voice edged with the intensity of ecstasy roaring through him, “jus’ one more time, just one more, we can—we can cum together, baby.”

he’s hiccuping over his words and losing control faster now that your hand’s tangled in his hair and pulling the way he likes. it stings, but he’d be out of his right mind if he asked you to stop—so instead, “harder, please.. ugh, just like that.”

“you’re such a freak,” you pant out, although you sound more than pleased to yank on his hair, “don’t tell me you’ll cum just from this?”

he swallows a lump in his throat and presses a hand to your lower belly, feeling around for himself, and soon enough, he’s able to feel the distinct swell of his cock inside of you.

“only if you cum all over me,” choso’s already delirious, mind full of thoughts of another orgasm even after this one. with you, he’s learned to control his refractory period, shortening it down to a mere two minutes that he tends to spend between your thighs. “please, you have to let me feel you, baby, it’s the only way—!”

“yeah? oh, are you gonna f-fill me up again?” heat floods your cheeks as your voice becomes more breathy, growing weak now that you’re hurtling toward your own high. “oh my god, ‘s like you’re trying to knock me up.”

something wild flashes across his face and takes place as a flickering movie behind his eyes. he has to pause, momentarily caught up in the idea of getting you pregnant. there’s something about the idea of your swollen belly and babies that really ignites a flame in the half curse—perhaps it’s all the more attractive because there’s a good chance he’s infertile.

“oh, fuck,” he sobs desperately, vision blurring with tears and his thoughts, “‘m cumming—ugh, ‘s all yours, angel, ‘m only yours.”

even as choso’s spilling white inside of you, his stuttering hips don’t stop once. now, he’s got a goal and he intends to achieve it, regardless of your cries of sensitivity. “slow down,” you whine, out of breath. “ch-choso, wait a second—it’s too much!”

“it’s not enough,” he grunts, shaking as he bulldozes through his own oversensitivity, “i’m not done, i have to—i need to put a baby in you.”

“i’m sure there’s five, choso, i need to take a second to bre—”

“just one more, i need to make sure. it has to happen, ‘m almost there. hold on for me, angel, please, i just have to make sure.”

[yoursaltyqueen]

you realize you’re in love with bucky barnes… and everyone else already knew.

It hit you on a random Tuesday afternoon.

Not during a battle, not during one of those late-night talks when Bucky let his walls down — no.

It happened in the kitchen.

You walked in half-asleep, hair a mess, wearing one of Sam’s old hoodies (because it was huge and cozy and he always pretended to be annoyed when you stole it). And there was Bucky, standing by the stove, humming something under his breath while flipping pancakes.

Pancakes.

The Winter Soldier was making pancakes.

His hair was pulled back loosely, little strands falling into his face, and he looked… soft. At peace. Like he belonged in this tiny kitchen with sunlight streaming through the window and your favorite song playing faintly from his phone.

And it just hit you.

Like a truck.

Like every cheesy love song and dumb rom-com moment you’d ever made fun of.

You were in love with him.

Hopelessly, stupidly, heart-achingly in love with Bucky Barnes.

“Uh oh,” came Natasha’s voice from behind you.

You jumped, nearly knocking over a chair. “Jesus, Nat—”

She gave you a slow, knowing smirk, crossing her arms. “Took you long enough.”

Your face burned. “I—I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sweetheart, I’m a spy. I notice things.” She stepped closer, lowering her voice. “The heart eyes? The way you smile every time he enters a room? Classic case.”

You groaned, covering your face. “It’s that obvious?”

Nat just patted your back. “To everyone except Bucky. But hey — Captain Oblivious makes pancakes. That’s something.”

You risked another glance.

Bucky was now trying (and failing) to stack the pancakes neatly. He muttered a curse under his breath when one slid off the plate, and something warm bloomed in your chest.

Sam sauntered in next, sunglasses still on despite being indoors. He took one look at your red face and snorted. “Well, well, well. Look who finally joined the party.”

“Not you too,” you groaned.

Sam clapped a hand on your shoulder, grinning. “Oh, c’mon. Steve and I made a bet about when you’d figure it out.”

Your eyes widened. “Steve—?”

“Yeah,” came the deep voice from the hallway. Steve Rogers appeared with a cup of coffee, looking far too smug for someone so wholesome. “I said it’d take you until summer. Sam said spring.”

Nat rolled her eyes. “Pay up, Rogers. It’s spring.”

As Steve dug out a crumpled twenty from his wallet, you wanted the ground to swallow you whole.

Meanwhile, Bucky finally noticed the gathering. He turned around, blinking in confusion. “What’s going on?”

Everyone immediately schooled their faces.

“Nothing,” they all chorused too quickly.

You cleared your throat, trying to act normal even though your heart was pounding like a drum. “Uh—pancakes smell great, Buck.”

His lips quirked into that rare, soft smile — the one that always made your chest tighten. “Made ‘em for you,” he mumbled, eyes flickering away shyly. “Figured you might be hungry.”

And just like that, the world tilted again.

Nat smirked behind her mug. Sam waggled his eyebrows. Steve just sighed like a tired dad watching his kids be idiots.

You were in so much trouble.

And you were so, so in love with him.

By the time you escaped to your room, you were convinced your friends were conspiring against you.

Natasha’s smirks. Sam’s dramatic eyebrow raises. Steve’s disappointed dad sighs.

All because you’d realized — far too late — that you were in love with Bucky Barnes.

You flopped face-first onto your bed with a groan. “I’m doomed.”

“You are,” came Nat’s voice. You lifted your head just enough to see her leaning casually in your doorway, arms crossed and looking far too smug for your liking.

“You need to tell him,” she said simply.

You scoffed. “Tell him? Are you out of your mind? This is Bucky we’re talking about. The guy who shuts down when someone even mentions feelings. I can’t—”

“You can. And you will,” Nat said, pushing off the doorframe. “Because if I have to watch you make heart eyes at him over pancakes again, I might actually puke.”

You threw a pillow at her. She caught it with ease.

“Nat—he doesn’t feel the same. He’s… closed off. And broken and—”

Her expression softened, all teasing gone. “And so are you. But you found each other, didn’t you?” She stepped closer, voice quieter now. “You steady him. He smiles more when you’re around. He’s softer. You’re not imagining it.”

Your heart squeezed. “You really think…?”

Natasha rolled her eyes like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I know it. And honestly? You both deserve something good. So go get it.”

Your mouth was dry, heart pounding, but before you could overthink it, you found yourself walking out of the room, down the hallway, and right to the balcony where Bucky usually disappeared when things got too loud.

And there he was.

Leaning on the railing, hair loose, metal fingers tapping a rhythm against the iron. The sunset cast gold across his face, making him look even more unfairly beautiful.

“Bucky?” you croaked.

He turned, and the second his blue eyes met yours, your knees nearly gave out.

“Hey, doll,” he said softly. That pet name, the one that always made your heart stutter. “Everything okay?”

No. Yes. Absolutely not.

“I—I need to tell you something,” you blurted out, hands shaking. “And if I don’t do it now, I might chicken out and never say it.”

His brow furrowed, concern flickering in his eyes. “What is it?”

You took a deep breath, Nat’s voice echoing in your head.

Go get it.

“I’m in love with you.”

There. Out in the open. No take-backs.

Bucky’s eyes widened, mouth opening and closing like he was trying to process it.

“I know you’re closed off and scared,” you rushed on, heart racing. “And I get it, Bucky. But I had to say it. Because I’m tired of pretending like I’m not completely gone for you.”

Silence.

Your heart sank. Maybe you’d misread everything. Maybe—

But then—

Bucky crossed the space between you in two strides, cupping your face in both hands — one warm, one cool — and kissed you like he’d been waiting forever.

It wasn’t soft at first. It was desperate, a little clumsy, like he was pouring every wall he’d ever built into that kiss just so he could finally let it all go. And then it softened, his lips moving slower, gentler, like he was memorizing the shape of you.

When you finally broke apart, breathless, Bucky pressed his forehead to yours.

“I’ve been in love with you for a long time,” he whispered, voice shaking. “I just didn’t think I deserved to say it out loud.”

Your breath hitched. “You—”

He kissed you again, cutting off your words.

Somewhere inside, you knew Natasha was probably watching from the window with the most smug look imaginable. Sam would owe her twenty bucks. Steve would finally stop sighing.

But right now, none of that mattered.

Right now, it was just you and Bucky, tangled up in golden light and stolen kisses, two broken people who finally realized they could be whole together.

[chuluoyi]

✎ rivals... in love?

- gojo satoru x reader

gojo is in shambles—so suguru might have a crush on you too?

genre: high school!gojo being a menace but pls spare him he just can't take losing, you see... crack, totally jealous!gojo, justice for geto, enemies to lovers, fluff

note: people have been asking for this so this is up next! i'm writing this while listening to bigbang's bang bang bang and fantastic baby so if gojo is a bit unhinged... you know why

a part of gojo's love entries

general masterlist

No way. There is just no way.

Satoru felt his eyes itch and twitch uncomfortably. Despite the opaque black tint of his sunglasses, he could still distinctly see you happily giggling.

“Geto-san, that’s so funny!”

With Suguru. His ride or die. Your massive crush.

Your crisp laughter rang in his ears, scorching his ego and igniting it in flames—that was precisely the reaction he had hoped to receive from you too!

"Aren't they just cute?" Yaga was suddenly beside him with a wistful smile, looking at you and his other student a few feet away. "What do the television say again... a perfect match? In this case, a perfect match made in jujutsu school, then."

And responding to your bubbly self, creating the very picture of perfect match made in jujutsu school indeed, Suguru was every bit as enthusiastic. “Nah, wait until you see this—”

"Perfect match my ass," Satoru grumbled outwardly, rolling his eyes, but he immediately dashed away before his teacher could bonk him in the head for cussing.

It was harmless conversation, or jokes, or whatever. Because Suguru couldn't possibly reciprocate your feelings. His type is women of gravure magazines—Satoru had deemed it as such.

…Right?

At this point, he wasn't in enough denial to say that he didn't like you, because he had made it so clear that he was, in fact, obsessed. He wasn’t shying away from the things he did, which included annoying you constantly, asking you out after school, helping you in missions, and sending you few pick up lines here and there.

And he thought he was certain he could whisk you off your feet. After all, who else could measure up to him and win?

Heh, no one.

(or basically that's just him ignoring the intrusive little voice in his mind that whispered, “Suguru!”)

“So what's with the nice act, huh?” Satoru blew his bangs in a huff as he questioned his best friend with a twinge of dissatisfaction. “Do you like her or something?”

Suguru quirked his eyebrow at him. “What?”

“Don’t play dumb. I have noticed how you two have been joined at the hip lately,” and with deliberate intention to spite his best friend, he made the sourest face as he mockingly recited, “Wait till you see this~”

Instantly realizing what he meant, Suguru burst into a loud snicker. “Come on, Satoru, really? Surely you aren't that petty. We were just chatting—”

“Not that. I know. What I'm asking now is that do you like her or not?”

It wasn't a rare sight to see Satoru with a pout and a frown, and usually he'd humor him. But this time, even Suguru could see that there was something different in the way he asked this. And should he say something that irked him then—

“Heh, so what if I am?”

That's the wrong answer.

Satoru halted abruptly, whipping his head around in sheer shock. "What the heck?"

“She’s a nice junior, kind, easy on the eyes,” Suguru shrugged, flashing him a dauntless smile. “Only a fool would let the chance pass up. Satoru, if you keep dawdling, one of these days, I just might—”

“Wha—hey!? That’s totally foul—!”

“Nah, they do say all is fair in love and war now, isn’t it?”

By a mind-boggling twist of events, apparently his best friend was also a guy after his dream girl. Satoru was irked, challenged, and he would never admit it, but a tiny part of him recoiled because Suguru clearly had an early start and a boost—you favored him first.

This was unexpected, and now he was conjuring up various scenarios of what he should do. He must act fast or else...

Little did he know that Suguru was thoroughly relishing his restlessness.

Everyone around you said that your relationship with Gojo Satoru... is intriguing to say the least. And especially ever since that one botched mission you two went, you also felt there was a shift in your dynamics.

And if by intriguing they mean him constantly blocking your way and invading your space, then yes, it definitely is.

"Okay, okay, but wait, just hear me out!"

You halted your steps and faced him with an annoyed frown. You really had no time for this. You were about to be sent on a mission. "Gojo, really, can't you just—"

"Okay, I know he's dashing, or whatever," he huffed, the last word he said with a hint of disdain. "But hear me out, and I'm sure you'll reconsider."

"Who are you talki—"

"Who else!? Suguru, of course!"

You couldn't possibly arch your eyebrow even higher, and before you could say anything, he somehow took it as his cue to keep going.

“First, he eats curses. Cursed spirits! He eats them like rice balls! Can you imagine just how foul the taste is?”

"Gojo, I don't have the time—"

"Then! Going from that, just imagine kissing him," he stressed, eyeing you intensely as your own eyes felt like popping out by the sheer suggestion. "What if you taste the cursed spirits rice ball?"

"You're unbeliev—"

"Wait! Can you even kiss him? What if his cursed spirits suddenly pop out of him? Are you willing to kiss his little friends—"

"He's your best friend!" you finally interjected, obviously and utterly in shock by his unhinged rambling. "How could you say all of that?"

"No, you're getting me wrong." Satoru's clicked his tongue. "I'm just listing facts why it's better for you not to end up with him."

You barked a dry laugh. "And? Better with you, you mean? That's awfully biased."

"Why yes of course! Self-promo is never bad," he blatantly retorted. "Let me just tell you aallll you need to know about me!"

He audibly cracked his knuckles and puffed out his chest. "You know already, I'm strong. I can protect you well. My cursed technique doesn't involve eating curses, so you don't have to worry about tasting the said curses on my lips."

How could he blurt all of this with that perpetually playful expression? A chuckle escaped you unwittingly and that only spurred him to go on.

"And I'm handsome!" he boldly claimed, pointing at his face with pride. "And obviously I don't need to say this, but I'm filthy rich—"

At that, you burst into hearty laughter, unable to hold it in any longer.

Satoru's eyes sparkled, lit as if someone had just made his day. "All in all, you know what I mean. Everything with me, all of it is going to be fantastic!"

Even you couldn't deny that all of this exchange had been so amusing. Hilariously so. "You're down bad, huh?" you tried to taunt, although it seemed like a burst of snicker. Yet, you were caught off-guard when he said:

"For you?" his little smirk made your insides suddenly all jumbled up. "Yes."

Huh? What is this? Your bravado faltered a bit as your heart did a somersault inside.

It wasn't supposed to thump this hard. You weren't supposed to feel this overwhelming urge to squeal too. And your face wasn't supposed to grow this hot...

Seeing that, Satoru celebrated his little win, a wicked smile on his glistening lips—that somehow looked rather attractive to you now. "How? Thinking twice now, are we?"

But he couldn't believe that after all this, you would still cunningly retort with, "Ha! You wish, Gojo Satoru."

His stunned face was so comical that you chuckled once again. You wanted to rebuff him more, but before you could, Haibara's voice called you from a distance. "Heeey! Let's go! Or we're gonna be late!"

"I suppose that's my cue," you lightly shrugged, and before you left him in a dust, you could've sworn you saw a flicker of brewing tantrum behind those glasses, which brought a smirk on your face. "See ya, try harder, and I might look at your way."

Satoru was at his wit's end as he saw you sauntering away. What more that he could do so that you could be his? To keep your eyes on him and him only?

And yet, little did he know, in that beginning of summer in 2006, even before you realized it yourself, you had already did.

Epilogue

In another corner of the school, eagerly spying on you were...

"Wait! Can you even kiss him? What if his cursed spirits suddenly pop out of him? Are you willing to kiss his little friends—"

"Did he just..." Suguru gaped, utterly in disbelief at what his own best friend said of him. "Did he just say that?"

Shoko let out a satisfied guffaw. "Oh, he definitely did."

"I can't believe he's tarnishing my name over a girl."

"Well, you know very well he could do way worse than that just to get what he wants," she threw him a thin smile, while exhaling a puff of smoke. "And hey, you lose. You gotta pay me."

Suguru turned to her in surprise. "Huh? Oh—oh, darn it. Shoko, can't you be less stingy?"

"Well, whose bright idea was it to pull that stunt on him and bet on whether Gojo would approach her in less than a day?"

-> continue to extended cut !

[glassbxttless]

No One’s Ever?

eddie munson x fem!reader

word count: 2.0k+

summary: Eddie’s 26, he’s had girlfriends before, he’s hung out at parties you threw with your college friends, and yet he’s holding back a secret that makes him feel like he’s missing out. You don’t mind fixing that little problem right up for him.

warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, oral sex (m receiving), A new budding relationship, Eddie’s first blow job, a pinch of jealousy

notes: Eddie, my baby 🥹😭🫶🏻 This started off as a CC Fest fic, and it quickly evolved into something else lmao. So I hope yall enjoy it! Big thanks to @iitsmandii and @keeryhours for reading this over and @peachyproserpina for editing!

After ten years of friendship, you’d lost track of how many movie nights had ended like this— curled up with Eddie on his couch, both of you pretending you weren’t gradually orbiting closer to each other. Like two dumb magnets circling the inevitable— you’d had the conversation last week, decided you’d give it a go, the whole dating thing. The trailer was cluttered, guitar picks scattered on the side table, an ashtray on the counter that really needed to be emptied, a laundry basket of Eddie’s clothes that had clearly needed a wash.

You were sitting sideways on the couch, your legs stretched across his lap. That old blanket you’d gifted him back before graduation draped over both of your laps. It shows just how hard it’s been loved over the last six years, it’s threadbare, carries holes around the edges that Eddie has asked you to sew and then never brings it ‘round, the edges are fraying and yet, it’s still his favorite blanket. Simply because you had given it to him and now as it’s slung across both of you, your foot sticks out from under it. He picks at a loose string on your sock while the movie, Arachnaphobia, flickers in the background, droning on and on completely ignored.

Your eyes drift over your best friend’s— no, your boyfriend’s— face. His eyes focused down on what his hands are doing. He pulls the string loose and tears it from the fabric, leaning forward to toss it onto the coffee table before settling back in against the cushions. You watch as lean muscle moves under the faded Iron Maiden t-shirt that was definitely not his. You knew Eddie’s wardrobe and you knew he had never worn this one before. You figure it was Gareth’s by the way it rode up a bit in the back when he had leaned up. You smile, watching as he shakes his curls out just slightly, sighing.

“I’ve been thinking about something,” he says quietly— chewing the inside of his cheek raw— but his voice comes off casual. 

You finally meet his eyes, your eyebrows lifting in curiousity. “Yeah?”

He hesitates for a moment. It’s not dramatic, nor performative. It’s just long enough to let you feel the nerves bubbling up to the surface of his chest. He drags his hand upwards, his fingers pausing at your ankle. And then he runs his fingers up and down, rubbing gently at your skin. His fingertips are calloused and rough, but his palms warm, strong even. Your mind immediately drifting back to the way they had cupped your face the night he had told you he loved you at the feel of them. How he was so worried he’d ruined the friendship you had built up— he’d done it once before back in school, fucked up with a friend because his heart had gotten too involved. But you didn’t care, you just leaned into him, kissed him back, and—

“I’ve never had a blowjob,” he finally sighs, his eyes darting away from yours as his shoulders deflate. He leans back into the cushions, his index finger tapping against your ankle.

You blink, surprised. “Really?”

“Yeah, really.” He lets out a self-conscious laugh, afraid you were just teasing him for half of a second. His mouth quirks up in an embarrassed smile as his cheeks start to pinken. “Kind of pathetic for a guy my age, right?”

You shake your head, sitting up just a little as one of your hands slides around his shoulders. “No… It’s just a bit unexpected... You’ve always talked like you were a walking sex manual.”

He huffs out another laugh and shakes his head. “Yeah, well... High school was all fumbles and dry-humping, and college…” He waves a hand vaguely in the air. Eddie didn’t go to college, his memories were just visits that consisted of him and Gareth trying to bang your roommates and nothing more than that. “I got good at some stuff. Fingering. Going down on girls. I’m not a total idiot. But somehow, no one’s ever offered to, y’know…”

You give him a look, a mix of confusion and pity. You rub his back gently, his shoulders, the back of his neck. Anywhere you can reach to make him just feel. “No one’s ever gone down on you, baby?”

“Not once.” He laughs again, but it was a little tighter, like he had just revealed his darkest secret. He fidgets a bit, shifts his hips under you. His hand tightening around your ankle for just a moment as he spreads his thighs just a little to get comfortable. But if you two were gonna try this dating thing, you might as well know. “I had one girl say she’d do it later.” You watch as he pulls at another loose string of your sock, biting his lip, nerves apparent with the way his brows are knotted down, before he speaks again, “Later never came. A few others just weren’t into it, I guess. I never wanted to be that guy who begged for it.”

You shift just a bit closer, your fingers brushing his wrist that had settled across your legs. “That really sucks, Eds.”

He shrugs, trying to play it off, but his pink cheeks are a dead giveaway. “It’s not like I’m really losing sleep over it, just… sometimes I think about it. Wonder if I’m missing out on something good, y’know?”

You pause, letting the silence stretch thin between you. Then you leaned in close to him again, your voice a whisper. “You are.”

He looks at you, his eyes sharpening just a little at the taunt. “Yeah? Am I?”

You nod at him, biting the inside of your cheek before you let out a breath. “And I’d like to fix that… If you want me to, that is.”

There’s a moment where you swear the only thing you can hear is Eddie’s heartbeat— just one moment— but then he exhales and smiles, a real big one this time. Crooked and soft and fucking stunned.

“You’re being serious, babe?”

“I am,” you say softly and nod, the blanket falling to the floor as you shift to straddle his lap. You run your fingers through his hair, catching on knots that you work out carefully. “Dead serious. Wanna let me blow your mind?”

Eddie lets out a laugh, not being able to believe what was unfolding in front of him. “God, I must’ve saved a fucking kitten from a burning building in a past life or something for this to be happening.”

“This is just what girlfriends do, Eds. Calm down.” You roll your eyes and kiss him— slow, steady, your hand twisting slightly at a bit of his hair— and he melts like warm wax right into you. His arms slide around your waist, his breath catching in his throat when you rock against him just once. By the time you pull away, his mouth is hanging slack and his pupils are blown wide. “Take your pants off,” you giggle softly. “Now.”

He obeys like he’d been waiting for you to give that order his entire life. He fumbles with the button on his jeans as you slide off his lap, sinking to your knees on the floor in front of him. His cock was already hard and strained against the black fabric of his boxers. He hisses when you pull the waistband back, revealing his cock, flushed and heavy, the tip fucking glistening.

You look up at him from between his thighs and see something you hadn’t really expected to see, you never had before, not like this— he was flushed up to his ears, his breathing shallow. He was fucking nervous as hell.

“You okay?” you ask softly, your hand rubbing along his thigh gently.

He nods, swallowing hard. “Just… fuck. Yeah, I’m fine… this just feels really real now. Like we’re dating dating.”

You smile at him, rolling your eyes a bit. “That’s because it is real, Eddie.”

You lean in and press your lips to the crease of his inner thigh first, kissing gently as your eyes flick up to watch his breath hitch. Then you move, pressing a kiss just above the base of him, then lower, dragging your mouth along his length without taking him in.

His hands clench at his thighs, trying to find a place to rest them. “You’re really gonna take your time with this, huh?”

You hum softly against the underside of his cock, moving back to nudging your nose against the base of him. “Damn right I am.” When you finally move up and wrap your lips around the head, his breath leaves his chest in one shocked, broken exhale.

“Holy shit,” he groans softly, his hips twitching up as he squirms under your touch. “That— fuck— your mouth is so warm, Jesus Christ—”

You suck gently, letting your tongue swirl around his heavy length, then you ease down slowly, taking him into your mouth inch by inch. By the time your nose presses into that thatch of brown curls at the base, his thighs are trembling. His hands hover over your head uselessly, trying to decide whether to hold your hair or cling to the couch cushions beneath him.

You glance up at him through your lashes, to be met with the sight of him looking down at you like you were some divine cosmic event— his eyes wide, lips parted as a soft breath escapes them, his chest heaving. “This is the hottest thing that’s ever happened to me,” he mutters softly. “And I once had sex in the back of a hearse, so that’s saying something— fuck, do that again.”

You bob your head just a bit more. A little faster this time, stroking what you couldn’t take in your mouth with your hand. He groans so loud at the feeling— tossing his head back against the cushions— you were sure his next door neighbor heard.

“Shit— fuck, baby, that’s— goddamn, I’m not gonna be able to look at you again after this without getting hard.”

You moan around him at the compliment, hollowing your cheeks, and he actually gasps, closing his eyes.

“Oh fuck, okay, okay— if you keep doing that I’m gonna— shit— fuck, I’m cumming—”

You don’t stop, your mouth working him through it. His hips shallowly thrusting up into you with each little grunt from the back of his throat. You swallow everything as you pull away, then give one last gentle kiss to his twitching tip as he slumps against the back of the couch. 

You climb back up beside him, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. You settle yourself back into your earlier seat, toss your legs back over his lap, and drape the blanket over both of you again.

He stares at the ceiling for a moment, completely still. His chest rising and falling slowly, but his mind racing. He’s never gotten a blow job before that, but you sure as hell have given one. It pangs deep in his heart. Some guy from your college got your mouth before he did? If he thinks too hard about it, his chest may combust. So he shakes it off, and then he laughs, “I am literally never going to shut up about this.”

You laughed. “I’d be disappointed if you did.”

He turns his head back to look at you, bright red cheeks adorning his face, still catching his breath. “You just gave me the best orgasm of my entire fucking life, and now I have to figure out how to go on living with that.”

You smirk, moving closer to him settling in against his chest. He throws his arm around your shoulders, rubbing your lower back as you whisper, “You’ll manage.”

There’s a long pause between the both of you before he chuckles, “…You’re gonna let me return the favor, right?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Eventually.”

He grins. “Cool. Cool cool cool. Just making sure. Because I’ve got a lot of fucking pent-up blowjob karma to balance out.”

tags ;; @vinecstasy @emxxblog @samslvrgirl @robinbuckleywife @hazydespair @joelmeller @djomorelikedelulu @dancininseptember @peachyproserpina @missjadesfics @iheartgrayson @meetmeatyourworst @punkrockmlchael @prettycalla @getaapologist

[itzpookiepooh]

Current Boo

You call him your current boyfriend

You were recording a TikTok with you and Xavier. It was time to wind down and you needed to do your night time routine. Xavier stared into the camera waiting for your signal. He was in his comfiest pajamas, yawning away.

“Okay guys! Today I’m going to be doing my current boyfriend’s night time routine.” You say cheerfully as you caress his face. He blinks tiredly trying to process what you just said.

You start to open the jar when he grabs your wrist. He had that same pouty look on his face. It made your heart clench. His eyebrows were furrowed in confusion.

“Current?” He questioned making you nod cluelessly. He shakes his head in return.

“That means you’re planning to get rid of me…” He trails off. You almost awed at him but you must stay composed.

“No it just means we’re dating currently y’know?” You try to reason but your little star wasn’t having it. He pouts more.

“If you say it like that it means you’ll find someone else later.” He mumbles sadly keeping his eyes on you.

“I’m sorry Xavier.” You coo holding his face as he melts into your touch. Safe to say you wouldn’t do this to him again…this week.

Zayne stood in front of the camera skeptically. You fluffed your hair as you started the video. His eyes shift to you who smiles into the camera.

“Hi guys today I’m going to let my current boyfriend rate my outfit.” You smile doing a small twirl. He quirks his head to the right. Current?

“Current?” He speaks firmly as you face him. “Yes. You are my current boyfriend aren’t you?” You question with your hands on your hips.

“Yes but not in the way you’re implying.” He answers, his eyes not leaving yours.

“How am I implying it?” He blinks at you as if you were dumb. “As if I’m temporary and I’m not. I refuse for you to make them believe that as well.” He point to the camera his eyes never leaving your figure.

Your jaw drops in complete shock. The room was silent the only thing heard was the running air conditioning. He doesn’t move other than putting his hand on the bathroom counter waiting for your next move.

“Fine.” You start the video over. “Hi guys! Today my boyfriend is going to rate my outfit.” He kisses your cheek softly making you giggle.

You had the face wash headband on as the video was recording. Sylus had one on too waiting for instructions. You pull him more into frame and fix the camera to capture him.

“Okay guys today me and my current boyfriend are going to be doing skincare.” You explain as you open the jar but Sylus grabs it.

“I’m not your current boyfriend.” He states casually. You turn to him and narrow your eyes.

“Yes you are. You are currently my boyfriend.” You correct him before facing the camera once more.

“So I’m temporary?” He interrupted you talking to the camera. “No.”

“I’m replaceable?” He adds making you cock your head back. “No.”

“Hm.” Was all he said and somehow that was enough to make you feel defeated. You started the video over using the correct terminology.

“Okay my current boyfriend and I are trying this new sushi spot. How would you rate the service so far?” You say over the other people talking. You turn the camera to him who’s just staring at you with an expression mixed with disgust and confusion.

“I’m your what?” He asks cocking his head to the side. You blink a few times before repeating, “My current boyfriend?”

“Oh I get.” He nods as if it were obvious. “It’s because I’ll be your husband soon.” He taps his head as if to say ‘duh’.

“Caleb!” You burst into laughter as he looks into the camera and shrugs. “What else could she have meant?” He laughs softly as he chewed.

You fix Rafayel’s hair for the video as he leans into with eyes filled with love. The video starts as you smile into the camera.

“Okay guys how does my current boyfriend look?” You fluff his hair as he screws his face up. He lifts his head from your chest and turns the camera off.

“What?” He questioned you. “My boyfriend?” You question in return.

“Oh…okay.” He turns the camera back on his face still screwed up. “Anyway guys how does my current boyfriend look?” You squeeze his cheeks in the camera.

“Oh I get it.” He says like he had an epiphany. “You’re hinting at me.” He rolls his eyes as if it were obvious.

“Hinting at you?” You questioned not the joke was on you. “You want me to propose. You didn’t have to go this far cutie. You could’ve told it to me straight.” He shrugged hugging your waist and putting his head in your chest again.

“What?!” You shout making him chuckle.

Had this cooking for a minute I need to empty these drafts ngl

[dollyfiles]

bf!rafe is obsessed with your stretch marks

cw: fluff, sweet intimacy, insecure reader, kissing, comfort, praise

the low lights of rafe’s bedroom lamp casted a warm hue across your bare skin. the sheets were a mess around your legs, all twisted and wrinkled, forgotten in the heat of the moment. the air was thick, and every breath shared between you two grew slower, deeper, heavier.

rafe hovered just above you, his knees framing your hips. his lips were slightly parted, breath warm as it ghosted over your collarbone. one of his hands rested lazily on your waist, his fingertips tracing the curve of it like he was learning it all over again. the other moved with slow purpose, exploring the ridges of your ribs and the softness of your stomach.

his gaze was intense, slow and appreciative. burning in that way that made you usually melt under him. you’d always loved how he looked at you, but tonight, something in your chest twisted beneath that gaze. you didn’t feel beautiful. you didn’t feel wanted. you felt exposed.

you two had been together for a little while now. at least long enough to know each other’s quirks, likes, and tells. long enough to fall into moments like these with a comfortable rhythm. but in this particular moment everything felt like too much.

you knew how he liked to press kisses into your neck when he was sleepy, how he always traced circles on your lower back without even realizing. but sometimes, no matter how safe you were with someone, your own thoughts could still sneak up on you and ruin the moment.

when his hands slid over your ribs and his eyes roamed toward your chest, you moved quickly, cupping his face in both hands and gently pulling it away from your naked body, guiding his focus back to yours. rafe paused, looking confused. a small flicker of irritation crossed his face as he caught your wrists and pulled them from his jaw, holding them in place.

“let me admire you, baby,” he murmured, a little rough, as if denying him the view of you was almost offensive. but your reaction was immediate. you let your hands fall to your boobs, covering them completely. and that’s when something in rafe shifted.

the fire in his eyes softened, replaced by concern and he let go of your wrists. “hey…” his voice dropped to a smooth whisper, like he was scared of startling you. “what’s going on?”

“nothing,” you said too fast, too practiced. you turned your head slightly, eyes fixed on the ceiling, hoping he’d just move past it. but rafe never let things slide, not when it came to you. he knew you. knew that look. knew that tone. and he didn’t buy it for a second. “y/n,” he said, slower this time. “talk to me.”

your chest rose and fell, and for a moment you wanted to brush it off again, to laugh and say it was dumb, that you were just tired or something. but his voice had that edge to it. the one he used when he really saw you. the one that made it impossible to pretend.

“i just…” you swallowed hard. your voice was barely a whisper when it came out. “i don’t like how i look right now.” that got his full attention. he didn’t interrupt, didn’t move, he just watched you, waiting. you hesitated, then finally nodded downward, your hands still covering your boobs. “these stretch marks. i hate them.”

rafe blinked once, then actually let out a small, breathy laugh. not mean at all, just surprised, disbelieving. “you’re kidding, right?” he asked, eyebrows raised. but when you didn’t respond, he acted fast. “wait. you’re actually serious.” you gave him a hesitant glance and nodded again, and just like that his expression melted completely.

“oh, baby…” he said, voice thick with affection now. “c’mere.” he reached for your hands, gently coaxing them away from your chest. you resisted, instinctively, but he didn’t push. he just held them loosely, waiting until you let him.

“look at me,” he said softly. “i love your body. every part of it. and those stretch marks? i adore them. i swear to god. you have no idea how sexy i think they are.”

your eyes searched his, looking for even a bit of insincerity. but all you saw was that honest, almost boyish admiration he always had for you. “they’re like… i don’t know. proof that you’re real. womanly as hell. and they’re yours, so they’re beautiful.”

you didn’t know what to say. your throat tightened again, but this time it wasn’t shame, it was something gentler. something close to relief. and then rafe leaned in and began kissing every line you had tried to hide. each individual stripe that felt like a flaw to you.

his lips brushed them gently, slowly, one after another. “fucking gorgeous,” he whispered against your soft skin.

another kiss.

“perfect.”

and another.

“don’t ever hide from me again.”

you let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. the tension in your shoulders released as your hands slid up to rest on his back, your fingers curling against him, not to hide anymore, but to pull him closer. the vulnerability was still there, but the shame was gone, replaced by something warm.

in that quiet moment, between soft sighs and the warmth of his mouth against your skin, rafe made sure you remembered every inch of you was loved.

[yunniverse]

Can’t Get Rid of You

౨ৎ PAIRING— university student!jeong yunho x university student!reader

౨ৎ GENRE— academic rivals to lovers, angst, fluff, fem!reader

౨ৎ WARNINGS— angst, fluff, yunho is rude at times, but so is reader

౨ৎ WORD COUNT— 4.9k

౨ৎ SUMMARY— both you and yunho are chosen to attend the same conference, staying in a local hotel, only there’s only one room, and you both seemingly hate each other

౨ৎ A/N— it’s here!! i’m sorry it took so long for me to write, but i hope you all still enjoy it and it lives up to expectations!! thank you so much for your interest and lmk what you think <3

“Mind if I sit here?”

Looking up, you’re almost in disbelief at who you see.

“Wha-” you stutter, but he rolls his eyes, taking the seat anyway. “Excuse me-“

“Take it up with the flight attendant. This is my seat.” Yunho responds, a far too cheeky smirk on his face.

“And why do you have a seat right next to me?” you ask, frowning, as you move your stuff so he doesn’t kick it or sit on it.

“Because we’re from the same school and going to the same conference. I’m sure you know that the university paid for our tickets, unless you’re that dumb,” he responds, giving you a sideways look before putting in his AirPods.

“Are you going to the Tokyo conference?” you ask, already knowing the answer.

“Are you deaf or did you not hear when I just told you we’re going to the same conference?” Yunho replies, quirking an eyebrow at you.

“Wow, rude,” you roll your eyes, settling back into your seat, jamming your own earbuds in your ears, just as the plane starts to takeoff. This is going to be a long weekend.

Dragging your suitcase behind you, you begrudgingly follow Yunho into the fairly nice hotel the university had booked for you to stay in over the weekend. He leads the way to the front desk, where he gets the receptionist’s attention. “I have a booking from Seoul National University.”

She types on her keyboard, the keys clicking as she searches. “Names?”

“Jeong Yunho,” he responds, and, before you can say your own name, he adds. “And Y/N Y/L/N.”

“Are you both together?” the receptionist gestures to you and Yunho, making you glance at Yunho too.

“No,” you respond, shaking your head.

She frowns, “Are you both from the same university?”

“Yes…” Yunho replies hesitantly. “Is there an issue?”

“Seoul National University only booked one room,” the lady informs both of you, making your heart sink.

“Are you sure?” you ask, biting your lip.

“Positive. Would you still like to take the room or ask the university first?” she asks, her fingers hovering over the keyboard.

“We’ll take it,” Yunho sighs, making you look at him in shock, as the receptionist nods and types on the keyboard before passing Yunho the room key card. With a nod to her, he starts to move again, clearly expecting you to follow.

“Yunho!” you hiss, rushing to follow him as he heads to the elevator. “I am not sharing a room with you all weekend.”

“Or…” he turns sharply to look at you as you almost collide with his chest at the abrupt stop. He bends down a little to be at your height. “You could grow up and realize that the school will take all weekend just to fix the room error and you’re going to have to get used to the idea of living with me for a weekend because it’s the best we’re going to do unless you want to pay for your own expensive room.”

Your mouth snaps shut at his reprimand, even though you really want to fight back. You know it would be fruitless anyway.

“Good. Now, I’m exhausted, so let’s go find the room, yeah?” he raises his eyebrows, expecting you to agree.

“Whatever,” you grumble, hating that he’s right. You bite your tongue to keep from making an additional comment about his character.

“Good girl.”

Your head snaps up, your mouth dropping open slightly, but he’s already walking off toward the elevator again. With a sharp glare at the back of his head, you yank your suitcase along with you as you follow him.

After he unlocks the room, the lock making a clicking sound as the room key works, he pushes the door open, dragging his suitcase with him as he enters the room.

“So let’s get this straight,” you start, pulling your suitcase into the room before sitting on the edge of the bed. “You got chosen to come to the same conference?”

“It’s not that deep,” Yunho responds, already setting up some of his stuff. “If you’d read the flier for the conference, you’d have known that up to four could have been chosen from our university.”

“I read the flier, but why’d you choose this one?” you respond, exasperated.

“Why’d you choose it?” he snaps, looking up at you from his spot crouched in front of his suitcase on the floor.

“Because it made the most sense for my major and I didn’t want to wait until fall to meet potential employers,” you reply confidently.

“I chose it for the same reason,” he retaliates, setting his phone down on the bedside table and plugging it into the wall charger he brought. “The world doesn’t revolve around you, princess.”

“Don’t call me that,” you glare at him, squeezing the handle of your suitcase. “And you’re not even smart! You’re just naturally good.”

“Hit a nerve, did I?” Yunho chuckles before gesturing to your suitcase. “You better unpack soon or you’ll be awake all night. And you’re just jealous because I don’t have to work as hard as you to be good.”

“Whatever. And I’m getting to it,” you roll your eyes. “And besides, I’m leaving to get something to eat in a minute anyway.”

“So am I,” he replies making you sigh in annoyance. “Let’s just go together. It’ll be easier.”

“I don’t want to go with—”

“Does ramen work for you?” Yunho cuts you off, looking at his phone to see restaurants near the hotel.

“I just said that I—”

“Good!” he responds, his brown eyes meeting yours, daring you to argue further. “Be ready to leave in ten minutes.”

“Yunho!” you call after him as he enters the bathroom, closing the door in your face. With a frustrated huff, you sit back down on the bed, fully aware you’re being childish about the whole situation, but too invested in being annoyed to care.

Exactly ten minutes later, you’re sitting on the bed again, after having unpacked a little, scrolling on your phone.

Yunho exits the bathroom, looking fresher and having changed clothes.

“Did you shower in there?” you ask. “You know other people need the bathroom too.”

“I didn’t shower,” he rolls his eyes, running his fingers through his dark hair. “I just changed out of my airport clothes and washed my face.”

“Well you better be prepared to wait another ten minutes before leaving to get dinner because I need more time,” you retort, grabbing your own change of clothes and heading to the bathroom.

“Take your time then,” Yunho responds, plopping down onto the bed and grabbing his phone.

“Or you could just leave and I’ll get something myself,” you respond, a last ditch effort to get him to leave you alone.

“Nah, I’ll wait. I’m in no rush,” he replies, much to your dismay.

“Of course you aren’t,” you mumble under your breath as you close the bathroom door a little harder than necessary. Why’d Yunho have to be naturally smart enough to come to this conference? He doesn’t even try!

Roughly fifteen minutes later, you exit the bathroom, slipping into some shoes as you sit on the edge of the bed again.

“Took you long enough,” Yunho’s voice greets you as you sigh.

“I gave you fair warning,” you reply, grabbing your purse as Yunho slips his shoes back on.

“Let’s go then, slow poke,” he teases as you follow him out of the room.

It takes about ten minutes to get to the ramen place, following the GPS on Yunho’s phone. It’s a quaint little place that actually looks really cozy. The bell dings overhead as Yunho pushes the door open and you both walk in.

The employees greet you as you enter, Yunho quickly snagging one of the tables near the window. For a moment, you debate sitting somewhere else, but you see that the other tables are pretty full, so you sigh, sitting across from Yunho.

“Is it that much of a struggle for you to get along with me for one single weekend until the conference is over?” Yunho asks, his voice laced with mock sweetness.

“Well it isn’t easy, that’s for sure,” you grumble.

“Well, we’re representing our university at the conference tomorrow so get it together, okay? I’m sure I’m not the only one who doesn’t want to make a fool of myself tomorrow, hm?” Yunho responds, and you know that he’s right.

“Fine,” you reply through gritted teeth. “I’ll try, but only if you do too.”

“I already have been, princess,” he winks cheekily, knowing you already warned him about the domineering nickname earlier.

It takes all the restraint you have not to reach across the table and punch his perfect face.

About an hour later, you enter the hotel room again, exhausted and ready for a shower and sleep. “Dibs on the first shower,” you tell him, already grabbing your stuff.

“Be my guest,” Yunho shrugs, gesturing to the bathroom door as you walk through it, closing it and locking it behind you.

Deciding not to wash your hair tonight, you start the shower, still taking your time with cleaning yourself. When you finish, you shut the water off and hop out, slipping into your silk pajamas, brushing your teeth, and doing your skincare.

Yunho is waiting when you finally walk out, his head lifting as he hears you open the bathroom door. “Done?” he asks, to which you simply nod, allowing him to walk past you and into the bathroom.

With a sigh, you sit down on the bed, grabbing your phone and checking your messages. About twenty minutes later, the bathroom door opens, a small amount of steam seeping out as Yunho emerges, shirtless, wearing grey sweatpants slung low on his hips.

You have to forcefully avert your eyes to keep from staring at his slightly defined abs for too long, even though you have to admit his pale skin is gorgeous. Shaking your head, you force your mind out of the gutter. He’s your rival!

Surprisingly, Yunho doesn’t call you out on your ogling, choosing instead to walk over to his suitcase, crouching down, as he searches for something. “You didn’t happen to see a grey hoodie over there, did you?” he asks, looking up at you.

You look down at the bed, spotting it under the blanket you’d thrown onto the bed. “This one?” you hold it up, watching as his face lights up and he nods.

“Yeah, thanks,” Yunho replies, offering you a small smile as he walks over, reaching out to grab it. Your eyes widen as he leans over you a little, his chest nearly directly in front of your face. You swallow, feeling heat creeping up your neck as Yunho finally grabs the hoodie, his fingers brushing against yours as you release the soft fabric from your grip.

Blinking as he pulls back, you snap yourself out of it. “No problem,” you respond, watching out of the corner of your eye as Yunho slips the hoodie over his head before plopping down on the bottom of the bed, phone in hand again.

“So, sleeping arrangement?” he asks after a few minutes of silence, setting his phone down and stretching, his hoodie riding up a little to reveal a sliver of skin.

“Uh, what?”

“How are we going to sleep tonight?” he repeats, slightly exasperated.

“Closing our eyes, I guess,” you shrug, setting your own phone down.

Yunho rolls his eyes, nudging your foot with his hand, making you pull it up closer to your body, wide eyed. “You know what I mean, dummy.”

“Well, obviously, I get the bed,” you respond. “I’m the girl.”

“Oh, and girls can’t sleep on couches?” Yunho asks, raising an eyebrow.

“We can, but it’s polite of the man to let the woman take the bed, is it not?”

“Maybe it’s polite of most men, but this man is too tall to sleep on that couch,” he points at the rather small and short couch that is pushed against the wall on the opposite side of the room.

“And this woman gets cramps if I sleep in a weird position,” you argue, crossing your arms.

“But my legs will hang off the end!” Yunho retorts.

“And my back will cramp and I won’t be able to walk tomorrow!”

“Fine, you know what? I’ll be the bigger person and sleep on the couch. It’s late and I’d rather not argue with you again,” Yunho sighs, standing up as he grabs one of the pillows and a blanket.

“Wait, no, I can be the bigger person and sleep on the couch,” you start to move, suddenly feeling a little bad for making him sleep there.

“No, I’m clearly the bigger person here,” Yunho chuckles, gesturing to his height. “And like I said, I don’t want to argue anymore. So let’s just sleep, yeah?”

“Fine,” you frown, reaching over to turn the light off, bathing the room in darkness, except for the moonlight filtering in through the hotel room window.

About an hour later, you’re still awake, tossing and turning, realizing suddenly that you’re actually worried about the conference tomorrow. What if the presentation you have prepared is horrible and they all laugh at you? Or what if Yunho’s is better and he gets all the recognition and job offers?

You glance over at the couch he’s sleeping on, seeing his legs hanging off the end just as he’d said, and you suddenly feel like a horrible human being for making him sleep like that all night when he’s probably equally as nervous about the conference. “Yunho?”

“Hm?” a sleepy hum greets you as you hear rustling.

“You awake?” you ask, whispering.

“Yeah, why?” he responds, his voice a little deeper, thick with exhaustion.

“Are you sure you don’t want the bed?” you ask, hoping he won’t react strongly to your offer.

“I said you could have it,” he sighs deeply, and you can practically hear the annoyance in his tone.

“I know, but I’m clearly more qualified to take the couch,” you respond softly, surprising even yourself with your gentle tone. Suddenly, you think of something. “Or we could… share the bed?”

“No,” he replies, turning over on the couch, facing away from you.

“But you’re clearly exhausted and so am I,” you frown. “I won’t try anything, I promise.”

“Why would I think you would?” Yunho replies, laughing a little.

“I dunno,” you blush, but at least he can’t see the color on your cheeks in the dark. “I’m just trying to reassure you-“

“You know what?” Yunho sits up a little. “I’ll take you up on the offer. This couch hurts.”

You watch as he stands up, stretching before making his way over to the bed, trying not to trip on your suitcase as he steps over it. “I’ll sleep on top of the sheets, though.”

“Deal,” you nod, moving over to let him onto the bed, laughing slightly at his relieved sigh as he lays down. “Just stay on your side, okay?”

“Noted,” he responds, and you can practically hear the grin on his face. “She doesn’t like cuddling.”

“Not with you at least,” you snort in response, rolling over to face away from him. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, princess.” This time, you don’t even feel the urge to correct him.

Your eyes slowly open as they adjust to the dim light filtering into the room. Feeling warmth to your left, you let your eyes drift closed again as you unconsciously shift closer to it, your face coming in contact with something hard and warm. With a start, your eyes open and you look up to see just grey fabric in your vision.

“Huh?” you pull away, seeing that it’s Yunho’s hoodie your face is pressed into. You quickly sit up, making sure he’s still asleep, his eyes closed and his face peaceful, before you look down, seeing you’re literally in the middle of the bed. How could you go against your own rule and not stay on your side of the bed?

All you can do is hope he was too deep in sleep to notice. You quietly and carefully slip out of the bed and grab your clothes for the day out of your suitcase, heading to the bathroom to take a quick shower.

By the time you get out, Yunho is awake and sipping some coffee. “‘Morning,” he greets you with a nod and a small smirk.

“Good morning,” you reply, acting as causal as you can as you go to your suitcase.

“‘No cuddles’, huh?”

You grit your teeth, having half expected this. “It won’t happen again.”

“If it does, I’ll know you lied,” Yunho responds, his tone teasing as he stands up, heading to the bathroom. But before he closes the door, he adds, “And for the record? I didn’t mind.”

His words leave you confused more than anything else as you shake your head, getting back to what you were doing, needing to go over your PowerPoint again before it’s time to present at the conference.

Hours later, when it’s finally your turn to present at the conference, you walk up to the stage, your never making your hands shake. As you start, your nerves slowly dissipate, until disaster strikes. You click the little remote, but the slideshow isn’t playing. Glancing around the room, you give them a nervous smile.

“One moment please…”

Frantically, you press the button, looking at the IT team for help just before the whole computer shuts down.

With a frown, you catch Yunho’s eyes, and he looks concerned. Mustering your courage, you try to salvage the presentation as best you can. “Where was I? Oh um… I think it would really help because… um…”

Your brain feels like it’s malfunctioning and your face is on fire as you try to piece together your thoughts, when you realize. The computer wasn’t doing this for anyone else all day.

Why’d it choose you? Your eyes meet Yunho’s again and it clicks in your head. He sabotaged it. This morning, you left your computer turned on while you went to shower and he must have done something to it.

Holding back tears, you rush off the stage, completely humiliated. You’re so hysterical that you don’t notice Yunho following you out.

You notice him as you turn the corner, hearing him following you as you rush out of the huge conference room, hurrying down the hallway, trying to hold back tears.

“Wait!” Yunho calls out, catching up to you as he grabs your arm, making you whip around on him.

“Why are you acting like you care?! I just spoiled all my chances of ever making it into an elite corporation!” you cry, tears pricking your vision as you move to lean against the wall.

Yunho frowns, taking a step closer to you, “I never said I don’t care. You said that. You’re the one keeping up this ‘rivalry’ like you think there’s something wrong with both of us being smart! You know, in freshman year, I saw how hard you worked and I actually wanted to be your friend! It’s true I don’t have to try as hard, but I still care!”

Your head snaps up as you look at him, really look at him, for what feels like the first time. Your voice is shaky as you ask, “What?”

He steps closer still, “You’re the one making a big thing out of both of us being the smartest at the university and getting into all the prestigious programs together. I’ve only ever wanted the best for you… I mean it. I’ve never wished you’d fail so I could succeed.”

You notice the way his voice softens as he speaks, his brown eyes flicking across your face, trying to gauge your reaction and emotions.

“So you didn’t sabotage my presentation?” you ask, sniffling as you look up at him.

He’s taken aback for a moment, seemingly shocked that you’d even think that before he gently places his hands on your elbows, his warm hands effectively getting you to look up at him, “No, I’d never do that to you. I know how hard you’ve worked because you’re just as good, if not better, than me. What happened today was purely a technical issue and then you clammed up out there when it didn’t go as planned.”

“So, you’re positive you didn’t tamper with it?”

“I didn’t.”

Silence follows as the two of you stand together, your eyes searching his, looking for a shred of proof that he could be lying.

Finding none, you release a shaky sigh before suddenly throwing your arms around his neck, standing on your tippy toes to bury your face in the crook of his neck, finally breaking completely as you sob quietly.

He freezes for a moment, taken aback, but he slowly returns the embrace, trying to comfort you as his hand gently moving to cradle the back of your head, his other resting on your back. “Shh,” he soothes, gently rubbing your back in a soothing motion. “It happens.”

“What? Clamming up completely in front of all my potential employers?” you let out a self deprecating laugh, sniffling.

“Well that’s part of it,” Yunho chuckles softly. “But I mean the computer freezing on you. You couldn’t control that, could you?”

“I could control how I reacted, though,” you frown, pulling away from the impromptu hug. “And I reacted horribly. I crumbled under pressure.”

“You’re young and inexperienced,” Yunho responds, reasoning with you. “I think they’ll take that into account when deciding who to hire. Do you not think it’s impressive enough that you’re in your junior year of college and already got accepted to come to this conference anyway? Do you not think they’ll take that into account too?”

Sighing, you realize he’s right. “Maybe?”

“You don’t sound convinced,” Yunho laughs softly, a mischievous sparkle in his eyes. “I’m serious, Y/N. You’re smart, mature, and you’re pretty easy on the eyes if I do say so myself.”

You blush slightly, “You’re just saying that…”

“I’m not,” he shakes his head, squeezing your sides gently. “I’m completely serious.”

“Okay,” you respond softly. “I believe you… even though we’re supposed to hate each other.”

“You said that, not me,” Yunho laughs.

“I can’t believe I spent two of my years of college avoiding you like the plague because I thought you hated me,” you rub your nose, sighing.

He gives you a half smile, “We can make up for it now, though, can’t we?”

“I suppose.”

“And you know what?” Yunho starts, his smile growing.

“What?” you ask curiously.

“There’ll be other conferences, other chances to impress those tycoons,” he replies, bending down a little to look you in the eyes.

You gasp suddenly, your hand moving to cover your mouth, “Yunho! You’re missing your presentation! You’re supposed to be presenting in five minutes!”

“If you screwed yours up, so did I,” Yunho laughs. “Our university will just have to pass this time around, yeah?”

“Yunho…” your hands lift to grip his shoulders. “Please go present. Do it for me? Please?”

“Are you serious? You want me to?” he asks, his eyebrows furrowing. “But why?”

“Because you’ve been kind to me for almost this whole trip, and the times you weren’t were my fault. So please, you deserve this,” you beg him.

“We deserve this,” he responds, his hand slipping into yours, intertwining your fingers, making you look down at your hand clasped in his before looking back up at his smiling face. “We’ll do it together.”

“What?” you’re shocked, confused.

“You heard me,” Yunho starts tugging on your hand. “We’ll present together. You’ll make up for your mess up, and I’ll guide you, okay?”

“For real?” you ask, a small smile growing on your face as you let him guide you back toward the conference room.

“For real.”

The presentation ends with applause from everyone in the room, and you’re beaming, a smile you can’t get rid of on your face as you and Yunho exit the stage.

Different employers talk to you for a while before they finally let you both go, exhausted yet pleased with how you’d done.

As soon as you’re out of sight from the crowd, you throw your arms around Yunho again in a tight hug. “We did it!”

“We did,” he responds, grinning, as he returns your hug, burying his face in your hair.

“Thank you,” you whisper against his neck. “For letting me do that with you.”

“You deserved it,” Yunho responds. “And maybe I was being a little selfish too?”

“Selfish?” you pull back to look at him, confused.

“I wanted you to finally like me,” he replies sheepishly. “I—I’ve been trying to get you to like me ever since I met you. You just always pushed me away.”

“I only did that because I thought we were in an unspoken rivalry,” you sigh, looking down. “I see now how stupid I was to make something like that up you never even acted like it.”

“That’s not true,” Yunho responds softly. “I did act like it quite often just because of my pride. I didn’t want you to think it was one-sided if you were going to be all… competitive.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” he breathes, before grabbing your hand in his again. “Ready to go back to the hotel?”

“Yeah,” you smile, letting him lead you out of the building.

As you walk out of the airport, back on the ground in South Korea at the end of the weekend, you’re actually sad to part with Yunho to go home.

“You know, I’m kinda sad that conference was at the end of the school year,” you muse, sighing, as you wait for your sister to come pick you up.

“Why’s that?” Yunho asks, looking down at you.

“Because now I have all summer before we go back to school,” you reply, biting your lip softly.

“Why would you want to go back to school?” Yunho asks, laughing a little at the absurdity of missing school that much.

“Because…” you trail off before look up at him, your voice growing softer. “I’ll miss everything.”

“What’s everything?” Yunho asks, his eyebrows furrowing.

“Well, the campus, classes, my friends…” you trail off before taking a deep breath. “You.”

“Me?” he asks, eyes widening. “You’ll miss me?”

“Of course I will,” you respond, a small smile growing on your face. “This weekend has taught me a lot about things, including you.”

“Has the princess grown up?” Yunho asks, a hint of his old teasing tone peeking through.

“I have,” you laugh softly. “Thanks to you.”

“Glad I could be of service,” he smiles, bumping his shoulder against yours playfully.

Just then, you see your sister’s car pulling up. “Well, that’s my ride I guess.”

“Yeah?” Yunho asks, standing up with you as you prepare to tell him goodbye.

“Yeah,” you breathe, grabbing the handle of your suitcase. “See you later?”

“Of course,” Yunho responds, smiling softly, his beautiful brown eyes sparkling.

“Bye,” you return his smile, starting to walk toward your sister’s car. Inside, you’re warring with yourself, debating back and forth. Should you do it?

Without a second thought about it, you let go of your suitcase handle, running back to Yunho and basically launching yourself into his arms as your lips collide with his. He freezes for only a moment before he grips your sides, returning the kiss. Your lips move against his for a moment before you pull back slowly, panting slightly.

“What was that for?” he asks, breathless, as he brushes his nose against yours.

“I like you too, Yunho,” you respond, a small smile on your face as you glance at his perfect, pink lips again. “I think I always have… I was just scared.”

He grins, joy radiating from his smile, “You like me?”

“I do,” you nod shyly.

Yunho leans in again, capturing your lips with his in another, much softer kiss. When he pulls away, his gaze meets yours. “I’m so happy we spent the weekend together.”

“So am I,” you smile, reluctantly pulling away. “Well, I should go meet my sister before she wonders what’s happening.”

“Yeah,” he nods, letting you go. “Can I give you my number and maybe we can meet up sometime this summer?”

“Please,” you nod, taking his phone from him to type on your number. With a mischievous smile, you make the contact name ‘Princess’ with a heart emoji. “Here you go.”

“Thanks,” he responds, smiling when he sees the contact name. “I’ll text you soon.”

“Alright,” you smile, leaning in to give him one more hug before pulling away for real this time. “You know, I’m glad the university made a mistake with the rooms.”

“Me too,” Yunho smiles. “I got to see how much of a cuddle bug you really are.”

“Well, if you ask me out soon, you might get to see it again.”

“Is now too soon?” Yunho laughs, but you can tell he’s serious. “Will tomorrow work? I can come anywhere.”

“There’s a cafe in downtown Seoul. Would that work?” you suggest.

“Perfect,” he smiles, nodding. “I’ll text you the time I’ll pick you up once you send the address, alright?”

“I guess I was worried for nothing,” you laugh, shaking your head slightly.

“About what?” Yunho asks, tilting his head slightly in question.

“Missing you this summer.”

He winks as you move to go to your sister’s car, “You can’t get rid of me that easily, princess.”

“I think I’m slowly learning that fact.”

Taglist: @hongjoongspoetry, @originallyyn, @outlawinthisworld1117, @anxieteez, @touchme-teezme, @fixonateez8, @hum4n-e4ter, @cherriehaz, @eixila, @i-love-ateez, @gigikubolong29, @kyeos4ng, @annoyingretard, @grandlightcandy, @vanishingboots, @bkimrose, @hobarihope, @sunshiinmidnight, @yuyusuyu, @yunnierights, @sunkissedchocobeauty, @seonghwasprincess, @yunhowooyo, @bloomyroses, @hwalilac, @sheerfreesia007

if there’s a strike through your name, i couldn’t tag </3

[eraserbread]

Imagine forbidden romance family friend yuji and kento’s daughter nanami would be furious 😩🫣

there's plenty more wife guy!nanami where this came from ✧

→ afab!reader, strict parents u n ken, fluff, sfw

"dad, can i pleaseeee have a friend over?"

"what did your mother say?"

"she said to ask you."

"then, go ask her again." kento nuzzles back in his chair, flipping the nonfiction book in front of him to the next page. it was evening now, past dinner and chores. supposedly, rin had finished her homework because she's at her father's neck, pouting, giving him that look she stole from him.

"but you could just say yes, and i'd leave you alone." her meticulous smile falters just before brightening her face once more. kento gives her a shadowed glare. "pleaseeee?"

"go ask mom."

rin stares at him dead-eyed for a moment. he blinks up at her, eyebrow crooked like he's wondering why she's still distracting him. "ugh, you never let me do anything-

stomping off down the hallway, ken is just glad rin took his answer well enough to leave him alone. though she's his spitting image, rin has your bite—that attitude he married and treasured. but it's different on his little girl—funnier.

he breathes out a laugh, then goes right back to reading.

what kento didn't know is that he dodged a bullet. no—a sixteen-year-old boy-sized nuke headed straight into his home.

"just wait until your dad finds out," you're grumbling, pushing rin and yuji from her room and into the hallway. and it's your fault—you ended up caving and agreeing that she could bring her friend over. after all, it's a weekend, she's overachieving in school, and her chores are done. now, you must punish her and all her calculating, mischievous ways. kento is far too light-handed for teenage girl antics.

"b-but I don't have one!" rin's classmate, yuji, whom she's known since middle school, is on trial next to her—young, pouting face round with shame.

"what's happened?" kento steps out of the bedroom, a tied robe keeping him decent. his eyes are shadowed with the promise of sleep. but he can't sleep when every light in this house is on; in fact, he couldn't sleep at all. you weren't next to him.

"i found them..." you start, letting them into the open space with a push, "in her bedroom, kissing."

"mom, wait—it wasn't like that." rin's hair is tossed, and kento is not dumb. his eyebrow twitches. images of the description flutter to the front of his mind, and it's unwelcome and ugly. he's furious. but rin would never know. kento doesn't share the hot side of his emotions with anyone but you—surely not to his livewire teenage daughter

"you think i don't know what kissing is?"

"you're being so totally overdramatic."

"i'm dramatic? no phone for a week," you hold an empty palm to your defiant teenager, ushering her with a curl of your fingers. "now."

of course, rin listens to you easily, but she still pushes it into your hands and stomps all the way back to her room. the door slams—just for good measure.

then kento sighs, shaking his head. in his mind, a fair punishment would be the inability to have more friends over—that's what he wants. just one less promise of an angsty brat in his space. "dear, i think we should reevaluate-

"shut up, kento."

nanami takes it, nodding once, sucking his cheeks when he watched rin hand over her phone like she'd never see it again. yuji watches over your shoulder, guilty as hell and suddenly two sizes too small for his baggy jeans. the truth is, he's been seeing rin on and off since they started high school. it's just a thing that led to unsure pecks on the lips behind closed doors.

it was never anything so serious until you lost your shit. now, your big, scary husband is towering over yuji with a quirk in his brow, taken aback when you walk past and shove rin's confiscated phone into his robed chest.

alone now, standing face-to-face in the bright, white light of the hallway, yuji looks so meek as he bows his head. "sir, i'm so-

kento doesn't want to talk. he hardly wanted to get out of bed, and now you've made it his personal mission to show the kid off. he and his glossy skincare still seeping into his pores, uncombed hair, and peeking chest through his garment.

but like a good husband, he takes a sigh and turns back to his room to get dressed.

and when he crawls back in bed with you after the kid is safe at home with his grandfather, he whispers in your ear, wrapping his arms around you, "well, at least you did not overreact."

"is that supposed to be funny?"

[jellofish-plant]

A 101 Step Guide to Win His Heart

Pairing: Jason Todd (Red Hood) x Reader Genre: Fluff, Slight Chaos, Mutual Pining Setting: Gotham, modern day

[Masterlist]

Step 1: Don’t fall for the emotionally unavailable, motorcycle-riding vigilante. …Oops.

You stare at your reflection in the bathroom mirror, gripping your phone like it personally offended you. The screen glows mockingly with the tab still open: “101 Ways to Win His Heart.” It's a dumb article. It's clickbait. It's also bookmarked.

Because unfortunately, you have a massive, incurable, stupid crush on Jason Peter Todd. Yes, that Jason. Ex-Robin. Current Red Hood. Hotter than the Gotham heatwave and about as emotionally stable as a raccoon in a dumpster fire.

Still. You’re in deep.

Step 12: Find common interests.

Turns out, Jason likes books.

You also like books. Perfect.

Except his taste is Russian literature and tragic antiheroes and yours is witchy romances with glittery covers and spicy tension.

So when you spot him in the bookstore’s café (half-buried in Dostoevsky, black coffee in hand, sleeves rolled up like a crime), you panic and grab the first dark-looking book off the shelf.

…It’s a YA vampire romance.

You sit beside him like you're totally chill. “Love the… metaphorical depth,” you lie, clutching the sparkly book like it’s your thesis.

Jason peeks over the cover, lips twitching. “Did you just pick that up to impress me?”

You blink. “What? No. Obviously not. Who does that?”

He quirks a brow. “It still has the security tag.”

“…I’m gonna go die now.”

Step 45: Make him laugh.

You didn’t expect Jason to be funny.

Dry, sarcastic, subtle but when he really laughs? It’s this warm, unguarded sound that makes your knees weak.

So you start collecting terrible jokes.

“Why did Batman and Robin never use smartphones?” you ask one night.

Jason’s eyebrow lifts. “Why?”

“Because the Bat-Signal was enough.”

He stares.

Then snorts into his drink.

You mark it as a win.

Step 67: Be there when it counts.

It’s pouring when he shows up at your door bloody, bruised, soaked through and silent.

No words. Just your eyes meeting his. The way he sways a little, exhaustion pulling at him.

You don’t ask. You just pull him inside, patch him up, make him tea, and let him fall asleep on your couch with your throw blanket barely covering his long frame.

In the morning, he’s gone.

But your bookshelf has a new addition: a well-worn copy of The Idiot with a sticky note inside.

It reads: You’re not one. But I like that you try anyway. – J

Your heart does a triple backflip.

Step 101: Be yourself. Even if you’re a little chaotic, a little nerdy, and a lot in love.

You’re mid-rant about Gotham’s trash system when Jason grabs your hand during a late-night walk.

You blink.

He shrugs, cheeks faintly pink. “I’ve read a lot of books. Been through hell and back. Fought monsters, real and metaphorical.”

He pauses.

“But no one’s ever tried to win me like you do.”

You stare.

Then smile.

“Is that a compliment?”

He smirks. “It’s a confession.”

Bonus Tip #102: Sometimes, all it takes is being the one who stays. Who laughs. Who brings band-aids and bad jokes. Who loves without expecting him to fix himself first.

And sometimes? That’s all he needs to fall for you, too.

Tag list:

@dreamzaremyrealityy

@not-herexo 

@a-brilliante-mariposa

@fandomtrashsblog

[bunni-v1]

College au Ifa is the type to take you at a house party and make sure people see the hickey on ur neck in class the next day

Marking Your Territory

🍓I'm gonna kill Pinkie for this one that's all I'll say on that. I lost actual sleep writing this, and instead of napping I finished and edited it. Do not tell me I don't love you guys or Ifa because I am nothing if not dedicated to my gay little craft. Anyway, enjoy or this will be the last thing I ever post. If this flops it's on your hands that I disappear.

TW: NSFW; Drugs (mentioned); Alcohol use; slight dub-con (both are lightly buzzed); marking (lots of it); sex at a party (yippie!); grammar errors (edited but I'm one guy and this is seven thousand words)

Info: College AU; Ifa x Reader (main); Venti x Reader; Kazuha x Reader; Navia x Reader; Wriothesley x Reader; Alhaitham x Reader; Kaveh x Reader (all background ships)

Word Count: 7.6k Words

MDNI

You weren't the biggest fan of house parties, not for lack of trying. Navia had dragged you to a million places since you arrived at Sumeru Academia, always knowing 'a good place' to go to let loose. Venti too, once he finally got you out of your shell. They both insisted you were a fun drunk, the total life of the party once you let loose. Still, when you had a choice, you avoided them altogether. It was just too much. Too many smells, too many sounds, too many people. They made you feel like you were suffocating, regardless of whatever drug you were putting in your body to numb the anxiety.

You'd managed to masterfully avoid any house parties thanks to classes picking up, the perfect excuse to hide away at Puspa Cafe with your tentative boyfriend Ifa. He'd managed to convince you to go on more than a few dates with him now, and while nothing was made official, you were pretty sure he was inching in that direction. Regardless of whatever your relationship was right now, he always greeted you with the brightest smile when you walked through those cafe doors. As usual, he'd made space for you already, and your favorite cup of coffee was sitting in your spot, luring you to his side like a deadly trap.

"Evenin'," He greets with his regular low drawl, scootching his chair just a little closer to yours, enough to wrap his arm around you in a side hug.

You lean into the touch automatically, stress leaving you all at once, "Evening, Ifa. Studying working out for you today?"

He sighs, heavy and tired. He was reviewing the same thing he had been all week, and it was starting to wear on his seemingly unending patience. Instead of complaining about it, which you know he wants to do more than anything, he just kisses your temple. Pushing the book back a little as if dismissing it in favor of paying attention to you.

"Big test comin' up," he hums, "lets not talk about that, though. You busy this weekend?"

You quirk an eyebrow at him, and he smiles innocently. Weekend outings with him had become normal now, despite Navia's complaints about feeling 'abandoned' by you. You knew she wouldn't end up lonely by the time morning came, so it was easy to brush off her guilt-tripping. Besides, Ifa was always fun to be around, taking you to so many different places to do so many new things. He knew Sumeru better than you did, having been here for so long, so you always got a little giddy when he asked for your weekend plans.

You shake your head, bringing your coffee mug to your lips, "Nothing much, just gotta peer review something for Venti for that god-awful poetry class, but I can do that anytime. Why're you asking?"

"Playing dumb is cute," he snorts, ruffling your hair playfully, "I wanted to take you somewhere."

"Hmmm... alright, I guess I can spare you some of my precious free time," you reply haughtily.

An annoyed sigh with no real malice behind it, "A friend of mine is throwing a party on Saturday, and I was thinking it would be a good way to... introduce you. They've been bothering me about it since our first date, and I don't think it's fair to hold off on it any longer."

Your heart skips a beat, both at the idea of having to go to a party with a ton of strangers and at the fact that he wants you to meet his friends. On one hand, it's incredibly sweet that he not only talks about you to his friends but he's been talking about you since your first date. You're at least important enough that the people he's close to know about you enough to ask. On the other hand, if you go to a party and Navia finds out, she's gonna be undeniably pouty. Not to mention parties really weren't your thing.

Ifa seems to sense your inner conflict as soon as it pops up into your mind, a hand coming across the table to gently squeeze your own. He gives you a little reassuring smile, warm as the summer sun and gentle as a breeze. He never fails to worry about you or account for your discomfort. You know all you have to say is no, and he'll find some other way for you to meet his friends on your own terms. Yet, you can't find it in yourself to deny him when he looks at you like that. So much love and care behind his pretty teal eyes.

"Sounds like fun," You smile, squeezing his hand back, "I'll tell you now, though, I'm not the biggest fan of parties..."

He smirks, leaning his head on his hands, "Never could've guessed. You actually seem like quite the party animal."

"Oh, shut it," You scold, going for another sip of your coffee to hide the grin growing on your face.

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

You turn your body from left to right in the mirror, trying to decide if the skirt you were wearing was too risky or not. It hid everything it needed to, but all it would take was a light breeze and you'd flash the whole of Sumeru with your lacy panties. Navia stands behind you proudly, despite this, completely satisfied with her work.

You couldn't keep it from her if you tried, so you folded and asked her for help. While she was huffy and pissy for the first little while, the second you asked her for advice on what to wear, she was excitedly leaping at the chance to strip you down and dress you up like a doll. Your laciest underwear, your (her) tiniest skirt, and a cute top with platforms to match. You looked hot, but... maybe it was too much? You didn't want to give Ifa's friends the wrong impression of you, or throw Ifa off too much with how different you look now.

Navia's cheeky squeeze to your butt immediately washes all your thoughts down the drain, squealing into a giggle fit. She wraps her arms around your shoulders, sliding her gaze up and down your body in the mirror. She looked positively satisfied with her work, and she did an amazing job. Despite how upset she was initially, she still came through for you where it mattered. She was still your best friend, and you wouldn't ever dream of asking for a new one.

"You look so sexy," She hums, squeezing you tightly.

You smile, "I do. Thank you, Navia. I'd be lost without you."

"I know!" She hums, "I'm still upset you won't let me go to this special 'invite-only' party, but I guess I'll have to settle for dressing you up now."

You roll your eyes, "Ifa asked me to go, not you, I don't think he'd enjoy you barging in on our date."

She scowls, biting your shoulder hard enough you have to push her away. As you do, your phone buzzes, undoubtedly a notification from him. You smile at his message, typing a quick response before tossing it back in your bag thoughtlessly. If you were gonna be out all night, you would need to use it as little as possible, so into the bag it would be forgotten until you absolutely needed it.

"He's here," You hum, and Navia only seems to sour more.

She still finds it in herself to give you a quick smack as you walk out the door, "Be safe. Use protection!"

You scoff, "Shut up! I'll text you when I'm coming back, okay?"

"IF you're coming back."

"Goodnight, Navia."

She sticks her tongue out at you as you round the corner to the stairs, carefully making your way down to the back exit of the dorm. You see Ifa through the window before he does you, a loose-fitted t-shirt, a leather jacket, and a pair of very flattering jeans. He's ditched his usual cowboy hat for wild and free hair that frames his face nicely, highlighting those sleepy eyes of his you've come to love. He's as cool as he always is, hands stuffed in his pockets as he breathes in the night air. Right up until he sees you that is.

There's a visible shift in him, straightening and eyebrows raising near his hairline. Navia did exactly what she set out to do. A lazy smirk crawls up his face, hands immediately reaching out to take your waist in his hands. They fit there perfectly, warming you in spite of the cool evening air. It's easier to kiss him on these platforms, lips sliding against yours like they were meant to be there. There's an underlying heat to the way he kisses you, but he doesn't push for any more than he's given right now.

"You look good," Is the first thing that leaves his mouth, breathless.

You fluster, "Navia helped me out."

"She did a good job," he hums, pressing another warm kiss to your cheek, then another to your jaw before he catches himself.

He pulls back, giving you another heated once-over before interlocking your fingers in tugging you along with him. The car ride to his friend's house is full of tension that neither of you wants to acknowledge just yet. But his hand rests a little too high up on your thigh as he drives, and it squeezes a little too tight at every stop light. Like he's reminding himself to behave.

It wasn't as though you hadn't already tried things with him. He was pretty straightforward about everything in the relationship, including his own needs, but he'd never let it go past heavy petting. The tension wasn't unfamiliar, but it was different. Thicker. More... unruly, somehow.

Still, he doesn't jump your bones in the car, nor does he when he finally parks down the block from the party. He's the picture-perfect gentleman as he helps you out of the car, leading you down the street with a hand on your lower back. The music from the party blares loudly down the street, thrumming in your veins already. You nearly ask to turn back there, you know he would too. You're sure he'd take any chance to be alone with you right now, but an excited voice shouts from the sidewalk in front of you, followed by rapid footsteps.

A cute girl with white hair and the brightest smile you've ever seen stops dead in her tracks in front of you. Just short of plowing both of you down as she pants to catch her breath. Given how red her cheeks are, she's already had a few, but she seems more worried about greeting the two of you than her own well-being. She takes both of your hands in hers, bouncing up and down excitedly.

"ARE YOU THE GIRL IFA'S BEEN TALKING ABOUT?" She shouts, far too loud for her proximity.

You flinch slightly, pulling back, and that gets her to back down a little. She frowns, apologetic as she backs away, still holding your hands in hers.

"Sorry, I'm just so excited to meet you! He doesn't shut up about how amazing you are-"

"Alright, Mualani, we get it," Ifa interrupts, holding you a little closer now, "cool it, yeah, bro?"

You smile warmly at her, squeezing her hands back, "It's nice to meet you, uhm, Mualani."

Another set of footsteps comes from behind the bright girl, and a man with black hair comes jogging over. He looks tired, faces expressionless as he carefully peels Mualani off you. A deep sigh tumbles past his lips, giving Ifa what could almost be considered an apologetic look, though his face doesn't shift too much. Ifa nods regardless, so you nod at him too.

"She was adamant she had to be the first person to greet you," The young man sighs again, "I'm sorry for the trouble she might've caused. It is nice to meet you, though."

You smile a little, "Nice to meet you too, um..."

"Kinich," Ifa answers for you, "let's get going to the party already, yeah? I'm gettin' cold."

Kinich nods, and the four of you make your way to the actual party. Mualani excitedly chats your ear off, pressing her shoulder into yours and swinging her arms around animatedly. She reminded you a lot of Navia, if she was a bit more carefree. She was easy to talk to and more than eager to help you get around the party - she even mentioned setting aside a room for you if you got too overwhelmed. 'Comfort comes first!' she sang out.

You nearly take her up on the offer the second you step through the door. The heat of the bodies hits you immediately after the sound does, and you can smell the weed in the air. It's intense enough to make you lightheaded, but Ifa squeezes you close to his side, and it all melts away. It's not so bad, because Ifa is right here, excusing both of you to a more secluded corner and making sure you're okay. Always worrying about you.

"You sure you wanna do this," he asks, crowding your space, "all you have to do is say the word, bro."

"I know, bro. I want to, I just need a second to adjust... and... maybe a drink." You hum.

He smirks, "A drink I can do, too. Stay there lookin' pretty, I'll be right back."

You appreciate the sight of him walking away with a contented smile. From your little hidey-hole, you can see all the people. Some of them chatted, others dancing on each other, some playing drinking games, and a few a little too close to fucking each other raw over poor Mualani's couch. It's nice to have this vantage point, it allows you to take it all in instead of getting overstimulated like when Venti or Navia push you into everything at once. A drink in a quiet corner with Ifa was all you needed to warm up a little.

You feel your nerves melting away just from standing there, knowing he would be coming back. Knowing you would have a drink to steel your nerves soon. A light sigh leaves your lips, contentment sinking into your bones. You could drink, dance, and really let loose tonight with Ifa. That's just what you plan on doing, slutty little outfit giving you more confidence than you might normally have.

A low whistle near you seems to agree, turning your head to find none other than Venti. He looks tickled by your tiny skirt if the way his eyes stick to your legs says anything. He prances up to you with his usual grace, a cheeky grin lighting up his face.

"Didn't expect to see you here, Windblume," He chirps, taking Ifa's previous spot next to you.

The closeness is something you're all to used to with Venti, so you don't bat an eye when he presses his shoulder into yours. Nor when he takes a strand of your hair to twirl it between his fingers. His flirtiness was a part of his natural charm, after all, there wasn't anything to question with him. So you smile shyly at him.

"Me either, honestly." You admit.

He hums, "Thought you were too busy to party with me."

"I am busy," you defed.

"And sober," he jabs an elbow into your side, leaning in close, "want me to get something for ya. I know a real good combination that'll have you giggling in no time."

"Already got it covered," the very dry voice of Ifa responds for you.

He slides his arm around your shoulder, effectively walling Venti away from your face. He doesn't seem to take it too hard, shrugging and dipping around to keep his eyes on you. You roll your eyes at his antics, taking the red solo cup from Ifa who affixes an unfriendly look over your head on Venti.

"Ooo, who's this? Got yourself a little boyfriend now?" Venti teases lightly.

You fluster, feeling a little humiliated by the teasing, especially in front of Ifa. It strikes you now that Ifa really hasn't seen the way you interact with anyone other than himself and Ororon - occasionally Navia when he's lucky. Venti's flirty banter could come off the wrong way, and you don't want Ifa to get the wrong idea. It doesn't seem to matter though, because he quickly responds.

"Sure does. That a problem for you, dude?" He's more dry than usual, and it's lacking in humor.

Venti takes it in stride, "No! Of course not! Weird though, she hasn't mentioned you to me before."

Ifa scoffs, pressing you closer to his side, "She only sees you what, once or twice a week right? Not much you can say in so little time to someone who doesn't shut up."

You can feel the tension between them building way too fast for you to keep up with, so you swallow down whatever fruity concoction Ifa got for you quickly. Feeling more confident with the alcohol in your veins, you pop back into their conversation somewhere about responsibility and taking things seriously.

"Hey, y'know, I went to read your poem last night and there was nothing on the document," you suddenly voice, tearing through the tension, "I think it might've been deleted."

"Are you serious?" Venti asks, suddenly a little more serious.

You nod, "Yeah. It was totally blank when I looked."

"Shit." He spits out, "I gotta go check on it... it was nice to see you. I'll talk to you later?"

You nod adamantly, "I hope nothing happened, see you later!"

He nods, waving at you as he slowly melds into the sea of people toward the front door. You feel Ifa relax as he finally walks away, tossing back the rest of his drink with a sigh. You peer up at him and find he's already smiling knowingly down at you. He caught on fast.

"Are all your friends that insufferable," He asks, humor back in his tone like it never left.

You smile, "Nope. Venti's just good at getting under your skin. He's really nice, I promise."

"Oh, he wanted to get under something, alright..." He mumbles under his breath.

You tilt your head curiously, "What was that?"

"Nothin' darlin'," he sighs, "why don't we go find something fun to do. I'm aching to let loose, dance."

You nod excitedly, the buzz from your drink giving you the confidence you need as he tugs you out of the corner and to the dance floor. It's bodies on top of bodies, brushing against each other, heat emanating from every direction. Yet, all you can focus on is Ifa as he smiles at you like you're the only thing worth looking at. His hands keep themselves at your waist, despite how they twitch to be anywhere else.

He does a good job of it too, holding you with the respect that any young man should. It doesn't last long though, not when the song shifts to a much more upbeat one. An 'ass throwing' song, as Navia likes to say, and you can't help but agree with her now. Turning around to throw it back on Ifa, laughing when you see him visibly short-circuiting over your shoulder.

You're not sure what's going through his mind in the few seconds he's stun-locked, but when he starts reciprocating, grinding back into you you can get an idea. His hands slide up your sides and over your stomach, keeping you pressed tight into him. He's rock hard against you, and you can feel how soaked your panties have gotten. The skirt leaves little untouched by him, and you can tell he wants it all to be untouched by the way his fingers dance along the bottom of it, the other hand cusping your breast.

You feel electricity pressed up against him, feeling sinfully sexy with how he's all over you. When he leaned down to press his face into your neck, you knew the two of you were done for. It was just you and Ifa right now, and you're sure if he was more than tipsy he'd probably take you on the floor with all these people watching. You don't dare admit how much that turns you on.

Instead, he whispers in your ear, "Wanna go check out that room Mualani was talkin' 'bout?"

You don't respond, just turning and pushing him. He guides you around the house like second nature, pulling you up a flight of stairs and to a quiet corner of the house no one seems to bother visiting right now. The door to the bedroom creaks open, and he takes a second to make sure it's empty, before pulling you in.

His lips are on yours again so fast you nearly stumble to the floor, but he catches you by the small of your back and leverages that to deepen the kiss. You shove at his jacket frantically, sighing as his tongue presses into your mouth. It rolls along yours, playfully coaxing you to join in, only to fight when you finally do.

He doesn't break it until he's tugging your shirt off, then his. Only for a moment before he's back on you with a fury, determined to swallow you whole it seems. Your bra follows after this, and then his belt and jeans fall with a dull thud. As soon as they do, he's hauling you up into his arms, grasping your thighs like a lifeline as he carries you to the bed. You bounce a few times when he tosses you on it, looking down at you with unrestrained excitement.

You're not any different, swallowing up the contours of his abs happily. He looked like some kind of god like this, making your head spin from more than just the buzz you had. He seems to have a moment of clarity, leaning down to press his forehead against yours.

"You wanna do this? All you gotta say is-"

"Yes. God, please, you've been eye fucking me all night and I can't stand it anymore." you groan out.

He laughs, "Guilty as charged. Can you blame me though? This little skirt doesn't leave much to the imagination."

"That's the point, yeah." You snark back, earning you a warning squeeze on your thigh.

"Don't be nasty now, bro."

"Call me bro one more time and you're not getting any ever."

He nods, "Noted. Now... let's see what's goin' on down here..."

He crawls down your body with his lips, hands spreading you out like you were a delicious buffet made just for him. He smirks at the lacy panties, and more specifically at the very obvious wet spot staining the middle of them. You realize he hasn't taken your skirt off, staring at him like this, and go to do so, but he stops you. Eyes moving up to yours like a warning.

"That stays on. Got it, sweetness?" he warns lowly, and the words rush right to your aching pussy, clenching around nothing.

You nod stupidly, and he hums satisfied. Returning to the object of his interests. He thinks about it for a moment, eyes looking to yours, and then with a smirk, he leans down and licks a long stripe up your clothed entrance. Eyes locked on yours, making sure you're watching him like he wants. It draws a long whine out of you, and his smirk widens.

He leans down, mouth clasping around you and allowing his tongue to roll over your clothed folds. It's an oddly pleasant feeling, the wet lace pressing into you, leaving an imprint of it against you. He groans at the taste of you, vibrating through you to your core. It's not enough for either of you, which is why he quickly tugs your panties down your legs and delves right in again. He immediately searches for your clit, finding it with little effort and absolutely abusing the hell out of the little nub.

It's shockwave of pleasure after shockwave of pleasure, and it's only made worse when his sneaky fingers are suddenly pressing inside. Stretching you out for the main event. He moves them at a languid pace, pumping in and out of you with ease from how damn wet you'd become. Each pump is followed by a roll of his tongue, surrounding you with nothing but him and the pleasure he gave you. You were lightheaded in minutes, ready to fall apart at just a single word.

Yet, he pulled away right before he got to the good part, leaving you breathless and worked up. You whine at him, and he grins apologetically, though he doesn't seem that way.

"Sorry darlin', I wanna feel that when I'm inside you for real. You can understand that, can't you?" He purrs, annoyingly convincing for his cause.

He moves across the room, digging in his pants for something, sighing when he finds it. The little package glints in the light, and you realize it's a condom as he settles himself between your legs with his boxers gone. Why did he bring condoms with him, unless he planned to fuck you tonight, which was honestly kind of hot.

"You just carry condoms around with you," You ask.

He chuckles, "I do, yeah. I may not need 'em... usually... but my friends are some freaks. Gotta make sure they're not havin' kids at these parties, y'know."

You smirk, "You sure you weren't just planning on sleeping with me?"

"Well..." He hums, "I won't say I wasn't hoping for it."

"Got your wish then," you answer.

He smirks, "Damn right I did. You ready?"

He leans down over you, lacing your fingers together and pressing his forehead to yours. It's incredibly sweet the way he looks at you, gentle and loving, despite the fact he was about to fuck you. You nod, reciprocating the gestures.

"Squeeze my hand three times if you need me to stop, okay pretty?" He hums, and you nod again.

His other hand comes down to help ease himself into your sopping entrance. It's a stretch even with his earlier help, but that can't be stopped you suppose. Besides, he goes so slow and gives you all the time you need to adjust, so it's not so bad. It takes a bit before he is fully sheathed inside, but once he is, it's like you're in heaven. He fills you up so good, stuffed full and ready to have your world rocked by him with the pounding of the party music behind you.

One last check, a little squeeze of your fingers, and he finally moves. Small and shallow thrusts first, testing the waters, but they make you squirm nonetheless. When he is certain you are taking him well, his movements get deeper, and more meaningful in the way he moves against you. The brush of his cock inside your walls is dizzying, dragging along them at an easy pace making your head spin.

His fingers tighten around your hand, his other hand tapping along your hip like he's trying to distract himself. His usually lidded eyes have fallen impossibly lower, each breath looking like an impossible task for him. It's got you biting your lip, fingers tightening in his grip. He glances up at you, catching your shameless staring, and gives you a breathtaking smile.

"Enjoying the view?" He pants out, still keeping that same pace.

You nod, unable to focus on one part of his face, eyes darting from one to the other, then his lips down his chest and back again. Too much brain power to focus on one part of him when all of them look so good right now. It gets him to coo at you, hand sliding up your side in a slow and easy crawl until it cradles your jaw.

"Can't even focus, am I really that good?" He asks though you're in no state to answer and he knows it.

He leans down to kiss you before you can try and mumble something half-coherent out, swallowing the sounds as they die on your tongue. It dips in and out at the same pace he does, slow and deep, reaching further and further as if trying to imprint himself inside you. His free hand slides back down your body, giving your breast a playful squeeze on its way, and slides around your thigh. With no effort on his part, he lifts it up to wrap your leg around his waist. The new angle deepened his thrusts even more, pressing up against your sensitive walls relentlessly. Steady and firm and unshaken.

You keep yourself level by following the movements of his tongue, pressing against yours, encouraging you to keep up with him. He tastes like the fruity drink from earlier, with the slightest hint of something savory underneath. The alcohol was nothing against him, practically blackout on his taste alone. You might never drink again if this was the replacement. You bring your free hand up to his hair, running your fingers through his curly locks. They curl around your fingers, sinking you into him even further, temping you to get lost in him.

Each draw of his hips sent fire through your bones and every time they collided with yours you swear lightning struck your body. The pounding music only aids in making your head fuzzy, encouraging you to be as loud as you like against his lips. You moan and sigh and whine, just like he wants you to, eating up each sound with another swipe of his tongue. You think you might suffocate against his lips, but you don't mind that at all. It would be an honor to die smothered in his devotion, so much so that you whine when he begins to trail his lips away from yours.

Open-mouthed kisses tumble down your cheek, along your jawline, and right to the side of your throat. He nips at you playfully when you clench around him, having to take a second to groan against your skin when you clench even harder at the feeling. You're not sure how many marks he leaves in the heat of the moment, but it feels as though he means to leave no room to question what exactly you'd done tonight. What he'd done. What he was going to do.

He readjusted the hand he was holding, placing it around his neck and tapping three times as a reminder. Then it falls down in between the two of you, squeezing the fat of your thigh tightly. Leveraging himself up into a sitting position with its help, tugging you flush against him as soon as he's adjusted. The room is much cooler with him off of you, your nipples pebble along with your skin. You don't think when your hands come up to play with them, pulling and tweaking the sensitive buds to warm yourself up again. The effect it has on Ifa is a different story, eyes blown wide and watching you with nothing short of hunger.

"Shit, dude- fuck. I meant- goddamn... you're gonna kill me here, darlin'," He flusters for the second time that night.

You just roll your hips in response, unable to think of any clever comeback right now. All you want is for him to fuck you, and that's what you'll get, one way or another. He reciprocates with ease, once again using your thighs as leverage to fuck himself into you. The pace he sets is much more aggressive now, urgent like he couldn't wait much longer either.

His fingers sink into the plush of your thighs like dough, molding your mind and body with his dick. The heat from earlier is back with a vengeance, running through your whole body and pouring into your core like molten lava. The heat keeps rising and rising with every thrust, and deeper and deeper you fall into madness. The only thing on your mind is him, and it tumbles out of your lips like a mantra. Like a benevolent god, he listens and keeps giving you all you pray for. Pounding deeply within your core until the heat boils over, and you sob his name as the white-hot pleasure sends you tumbling into madness.

He follows after you, bending over you to suck one last purple hickey between your neck and your jaw, and then moans your name. Low and deep, rumbling between the two of you. He comes down first, pressing soft kisses into your neck as you float from your high, lightweight as a feather. You bask in the affection he gives you, sighing into the air, still thrumming from the party below you.

"Feel good?" He asks.

You nod, "I think I needed that."

He smirks into your skin, taking a second before responding, "I think I needed it too."

It takes a few moments for either of you to get up, basking in the warm glow of after-sex. Yet, the party still roars beneath you, reminding you that you are not at home and that to relax you would have to get home. However, with Navia there, it wouldn't be very relaxing - especially after she sees what you did to her skirt.

Ifa pulls himself up first, easing you into a sitting position as sweetly as he can. Quietly he dresses himself, collects your clothes, and helps you do the same. As best as he can, that is. He takes about three seconds to look at your panties before stuffing them in the pocket of his jeans. Your bra he does manage to get on, clipping the clasp together with little struggle thanks to his steady hands. Instead of bothering with your top, he simply zips you up in his jacket and shoves the thin piece of fabric into his other pocket. It's all an incredibly endearing show, ending when he pulls you up and tugs your skirt back down over your ass. Not that it matters when his jacket is longer than it was in the first place.

He knows the way out of the house, navigating the two of you through the crowd with ease, making sure he is positioned right behind you. Just in case. Certainly not to get another feel as he pushes you through the bodies. You almost feel bad for leaving without saying goodbye or having properly met his friends, but you know you'll get another chance to do so. Hopefully in a more calming setting.

He's quiet as he leads you back to his car, eyes focused on something off in the distance that you couldn't see. The quiet night air keeps you company instead, and the cool breeze cools your still-heated skin with kindness. It's sobering, hitting you all at once with the realization you just did the most cliche college act in the book, and it was amazing. Maybe not the best idea- scratch that, it was a really good idea, but maybe Ifa didn't agree? You couldn't tell with the way he was acting.

Quietly sitting down in his car, making sure you didn't ruin his seats as he drove you home. He still kisses your forehead before he takes off like all is well, but his grip is knuckle white on the steering wheel. He swallows hard every few minutes like whatever he's thinking about is difficult for him. Did he regret sleeping with you? It didn't seem like it while it was happening, but maybe being outside sobered him up and he realized what a huge mistake he made?

You shake your head, mentally scolding yourself for wallowing in self-pity. With a warm smile, you rest your hand on his arm, startling him out of his thoughts. He blinks a few times, seemingly shaking off whatever is on his mind, and smiles at you like the luckiest man alive.

"You alright... you seem... distracted?" You ask quietly.

He takes a moment to compose himself again, fingers tapping along the steering wheel as a distraction. He's holding himself back again, an unidentifiable tension that you weren't aware of standing between you and him. A moment of internal debate, before his shoulders finally relax and his hand comes to slip into yours like it was meant to.

"I have been dreaming of having sex with you since our first kiss," he admits brazenly, glancing at you a few times to gauge your reaction.

Reasonably, you're flustered at the admission, but you can't shame him. You'd had similar feelings for a while, but admitting them out loud was harder than it seemed. You admired that he could do it so easily, though. Finding his boldness charming more than startling.

You squeeze his hand, "Well... you're not alone in that."

He snorts, "Yeah, well, now that I've gotten a taste I dunno if I can stop. You've got me addicted from one taste."

You bite your lip, emboldened by his confidence, and slide his hand up your thigh. Resting it just below where his jacket ends, message more than obvious.

"No one said you had to stop," you hum, relishing in how his hand squeezes you so tightly, "it's healthy to treat yourself sometimes. You told me that, remember."

"I did, didn't I?" He hums, fingers crawling under your skirt once more, "I hope you don't mind my indulging just a little longer?"

You send him a suspicious look, “How much longer?”

"How about until someone gives us a noise complaint, hm?" he purrs.

Your eyebrows shoot up, he wanted to keeping going in his dorm?

"What about Ororon? Won't he-"

"Visiting his granny," he dismisses, "and don't worry about Cacucu, I sent him off with Ororon this weekend. Figured I'd be busy."

You can't believe how shameless he was, but you can't find it in yourself to be anything other than happy.

"Well then, I hope your neighbors don't mind missing a few hours of sleep tonight."

He hums, fingers finally right where they need to be, "They're really understanding, so don't worry too much about them."

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

You had to go to great lengths to hide all the hickeys Ifa very intentionally left all over the most visible parts of your neck. His punishment was running to the drug store to buy you all the cheap color-correcting makeup you needed, but he didn't seem to be bothered by it. Not when he sighed so dreamily as he watched you struggle to cover up all his doing. Luckily, he got the cumstains out of Navia's skirt, so you could forgive him for that at least. You're not sure she'd even want it back anyway.

After nearly an hour of painstaking work, you've finally covered all the hickies you could see. Which was most of your neck, of course. You tie your messy hair up in a bun, not wanting to handle it any longer. He'd left you quite a mess, and you only had enough energy left to fix one of the several. Still, when he came up behind you to kiss you farewell before his 8am, you couldn't stay mad.

"You're gonna come to Puspa tonight, right? Mualani was thinking of stopping by with Kinich and some of our other friends," he asks, pressing his face against yours from behind.

You smile at him through the mirror, pressing your cheek closer to his, "Yeah, I can come. I still feel bad leaving like we did."

"Trust me, bro, they're not upset," he pulls back with that, leaning down to press one last kiss to the back of your neck, "stop by the library before lunch, too, Ororon wants to see you."

"I will," you call to him as he waltzes out the door.

From there, you go about your day as usual. Your first few classes are peaceful and quiet, with no one bothering you about anything. Monday is the only day Navia has no morning classes with you, so it's all nice and easy without her pestering for details every five minutes. It's not until you bump into Kazuha that things seem a little off. He has an uneasy smile on his face when he taps your shoulder from behind, but still wraps you in a hug like always when you do.

"Hey, it's my boyfriend!" You hum playfully.

He hums back, "I've missed you, my darling girlfriend. I heard you went to a party this weekend, did you have fun?"

There's a hidden question in his tone, and you know what it is, but you dismiss it. There's no way he of all people would know what you and Ifa did... all weekend unless Venti somehow found out, but you doubt it. He was really serious about the poem that you may or may not have lied about.

"Yeah! It was super fun, I met some cool new people and... and I really got to unwind!" You dance around the subject easily.

He doesn't push it, thank goodness, "That's great. You really push yourself too far sometimes, a good rest is what you deserve."

"Thanks, Kazuha." You're genuinely appreciative of it too. It's nice to hear him talk so positively of you, "I gotta get to my meeting with Kaveh, but take care, yeah!"

He smiles, waving you off, end with a, "Remember if you ever feel the need to unwind again, just call me next time!"

A little weird on the phrasing, especially considering what 'unwinding' meant to you, but... surely not. There's just no way! You dismiss it quickly as it comes, not wanting to relish on the thought and ruin your perfectly good day.

But then, Kaveh and Alhaitham are acting a bit... odd. You don't usually study with them, but Eula was busy this evening, and using study room five without her felt sacrilegious. So, you managed to convince Kaveh to do so during his free period, Alhaitham promising to stop by later once his class was out. Kaveh had been tense since you set your bag down, unable to really focus on his paper.

When Alhaitham comes in the behavior only gets odder, the older of the two immediately scolding him when he goes to ask you a question. They bicker back and forth about it for a moment, before Alhaitham drops it with a sigh. Weird, given how stubborn he was all the time. But he kept glancing at your neck, making you feel a little self-conscious. Had the makeup rubbed off? You told Ifa to get the good expensive stuff so it shouldn't have so easily.

You finally get your answer when Wriothesley and Navia come across you as you're heading to the library to meet with Ifa and Ororon. You hear Navia before you see her, gasping loudly like she'd seen something horribly scandalous. When you turn to them, you are surprised to find Wirothesley scowling at you. Or, more at your neck. Self consciously you place a hand at the back of your neck.

"Ohh, honey," Navia coos, rushing to your side, "why didn't you come and see me, I would've made sure you got all of them!"

Wriothesley, on the other hand, is as dry as ever, "Do I need to take care of someone for you, cause I most certainly can. Might cost you though."

"No, you don't... yet," you sigh, "is it bad."

Wriothesley nods, "Like someone tried to eat you."

"Well, at least I know why you didn't come home this weekend," Navia mumbles, "goodness, it really does look like he tried to eat you. Lemme help you cover it up."

You wave a hand at her, "No, no. I'll just hide it with my hair. Besides, I'm already late to meeting Ifa, and Childe's gonna throw a fit if I'm not at our regular table in fifteen."

She pouts as you brush past her, but doesn't push you any further. She had all night to do that anyway, so you'd get your scolding from her later.

Wriothesley sends you a smirk as you walk away, "Just say the word!"

"I'll let you know!" You call back, practically storming your way to the library.

Ifa smiles when he sees you, then frowns when he sees your hair. That bastard. You nearly rip him a new one, if not for the fact Ororon greets you before you can get to it. He is blissfully unaware of what his roommate had done on both sides of the room this weekend, and you think it's best kept that way. It does not stop you from glaring over at Ifa when Ororon isn't paying attention, though.

When he offers to walk you to the cafeteria, you take it as your opportunity to scold him like a mother would a child.

"Why didn't you tell me? I walked around like that all day. People probably think I'm a cheap whore," you whine.

He smirks, "You're a very pretty cheap whore."

"Ifa."

He holds his hands up, "I'm kidding, bro, I'm kidding. You're not a whore, you're the opposite actually."

"You're so insufferable," you roll your eyes, but you're not angry much anymore, "I don't get why you had to leave all these marks. It's like you like getting in trouble."

"Only with you," he remarks cheekily, quickly moving on to, "Besides, I gotta 'stake my claim on you' somehow."

You level a flat look on him, wholly unimpressed with his animal kingdom language, "That's the stupidest shit I've ever heard.

He smiles at you like he always does, wrapping an arm around your shoulder, "It's true though! You've always got a million eyes on you, if I don't leave my mark they'll think it's okay to take what's mine."

You raise an eyebrow, though your heart flutters in your chest, "What's yours?"

"That's what you are, right?" He leans in close, "You're mine, aren't you?"

You have to turn away to save face, tucking your hair behind your ear nervously. God he was so attractive, it wasn't fair.

"Guess I am," you answer simply.

"Good, just how I like it."

[ghostfacd]

𝙄𝙉 𝘼 𝙒𝙊𝙍𝙇𝘿 𝙁𝙐𝙇𝙇 𝙊𝙁 𝙈𝙀𝙉, 𝙃𝙀’𝙎 𝘼 𝙂𝙀𝙉𝙏𝙇𝙀𝙈𝘼𝙉

pairing: lorenzo berkshire x fem!slytherin!reader

genre: fluff, sweetheart enzo, brief suggestive content, enzo is a big softie basically

summary: in a world filled with men, there’s lorenzo berkshire, a sweetheart and gentleman

Lorenzo Berkshire was a sweetheart.

Everybody knew that the down to earth Slytherin couldn’t hurt a fly even if he wanted to, and weirdly did not fit the stereotypical mean Slytherin persona despite hanging with Draco and his friends.

In fact, a lot of things that Lorenzo did were out of the ordinary for his crowd of people. Whenever Draco would pull a first year by their backpacks so their bodies would fling back, Lorenzo always muttered an apology after, offering the first year a cookie the next day. It was just who he was; he was a sweet boy, and that often meant he was also very clueless.

Sure, he was smart in his classes, but in everything else? Lorenzo was practically the virgin of all virgins.

“Her eyes are up here Enzo,” Pansy teased, watching as Lorenzo’s eyes finally shifted off your chest to look at Pansy in the eyes.

“Huh?”

“Well I know they’re nice,” you tease further, “but it’s rude to stare, y’know.”

“Oh,” Lorenzo’s eyebrows furrow, clearly confused. He’s either great at playing the dumb role or he genuinely has no idea what you and Pansy are inciting.

“What do you mean?” Lorenzo then moves his hand over to touch the gold colored necklace on your neck. “I was just looking at the new necklace you got. It’s nice.”

Oh. You didn’t think anyone would notice your new necklace. You bought it over the holidays when you went back home with your family, and had just started wearing it now.

“Thanks Enzo,” you say, placing a kiss on his cheek. He pulls back flustered, but he mutters a you’re welcome under his breath.

“LO BOY!” Lorenzo is quickly pulled into a headlock by no other than Draco Malfoy, who seems to find his friend struggling hilariously funny. “Oh what’s wrong Lo? Got your head in a knot?”

“Boys.” You and Pansy mutter, rolling your eyes as you both get up from your seats, heading to the much more quiet Great Hall.

- - -

The next time you see Lorenzo is in your Potions class. He’s on the left of you, and you’re almost falling asleep at the boring lecture of your professor. He always seem to talk more than actually teach how to mix potions.

“Pssst,” Lorenzo mutters to your partner as he hands her a slip of paper. “Be a peach and pass it to Y/N?”

Your partner, who has developed a little crush on Lorenzo only blushes, accepting the piece of paper and tapping you on the shoulder.

“Here,” she says, “it’s from Lorenzo.”

Your eyebrows quirk up, slowly unfolding the crinkled paper.

Your hair is pretty today

You bite your lip, trying to suppress a smile. Lorenzo just knew how to swoon a girl over, didn’t he? He doesn’t even have to try and your knees would still feel weak.

So my hair isn’t pretty on other days?

You scribble down, passing it back to your partner who passes it to Lorenzo.

His eyes grow wide when he reads it, opting to shake his head quickly.

“Not what I meant,” Lorenzo mouths.

“I know,” you mouth back, giving him a smirk. “Thank you Enzo.”

And you both end up more pink than the potions that were made in class that day.

- - -

“What do you even do in your free time?” Theodore asks, poking Lorenzo’s cheek repeatedly to annoy him. “Like read?”

“Like read?” Lorenzo mimics back. “Yes, I read. You should too Teddy, it’d be good for you.”

Theodore rolls his eyes, “I don’t need to read. And don’t call me Teddy.”

When you arrive in the dining hall, Theodore and Lorenzo already make a space for you to sit in between them. Usually, Pansy and Draco would be sitting across from the three of you, but today, they were off doing Godric knows what.

“Pans and Draco not here today?” Lorenzo asks, still focusing on the assignment he was finishing up before dinner ends.

“Nope,” you say, popping the p. “No idea what they’re doing.”

“Oh,” Theodore chuckles, “I have a few ideas.”

That makes the two of you burst out laughing, and Lorenzo finally looks up from his paper.

“What?” He asks. “What’s so funny?”

“Oh Enzo,” Theodore places a hand on his friend’s back, “never change.”

Lorenzo rolls his eyes, shrugging Theodore’s hand off. “Whatever that means.”

When Theodore finally heads off to the Slytherin common room, you and Lorenzo are left alone, the small conversations of the other students surrounds the two of you.

“Working hard on that assignment,” you say quietly to Lorenzo, bringing up your hand to pull a few strings of hair that were poking his eyes.

“Well someone’s gotta be the smart one in our friend group,” he says teasingly.

“Oh, so you’re saying I’m not smart?” Your hands start to wander, coming to each of Lorenzo’s sides to tickle him. He was especially ticklish around his abdomen.

“H-hey! Stop that!” He laughs, pushing your hands away. “Okay okay, we’re both the smart ones.”

“And Pansy,” you add.

“And Pansy.”

- - -

When you walked out to the lake that sat across from the Slytherin common room, you didn’t expect to find Lorenzo feeding the ducks. He was crouching, softly throwing a few pieces of crushed up bread at the ducks that now surrounded him.

“What are you doing Lo?” You ask, walking beside him.

“Not too loud,” Lorenzo says, “you’ll scare them away.”

He continues doing what he does before he runs all out, deciding to finally turn to you and throw an arm around your shoulder. “Evening.”

“Evening Enzo,” you say, pressing a kiss to his cheek. It was out of habit, and you did it regularly, but it didn’t stop Lorenzo from blushing every time it happened.

“I was feeding the ducks,” he explains, although it was pretty clear what he was doing. “I like them, they’re nice and pretty. Draco sometimes throws rocks at them, so it’s kind of my way of apologizing for him.”

You ruffle Lorenzo’s hair slightly, giving him a small kiss on the cheek. “Oh Enzo, you sweetheart.” But he doesn’t hear you, instead, choosing to admire the scenery of the lake.

- - -

“You know what’d be funny?” Mattheo says, already laughing before he could get out the rest of his sentence. “If we pied the girls. Pansy and Y/N.”

Lorenzo’s ears perk up at this, but he keeps quiet. Why was his friends always looking to get into trouble?

“They’d totally kill us,” Theodore comments.

“That’s why we have to do it.”

The boys had already gotten two pies and their plan figured out before Lorenzo could stop them. He watched as they hide it behind their backs, approaching you and Pansy who were both engrossed in your conservation.

“Wait,” Lorenzo mumbles, quickly following his group of friends. When he sees their hand from their back move as they speak to you and Pansy, he steps in front of the two of you, getting hit straight in the face with the two pies.

“Huh..” Lorenzo says, wiping away the whipped cream that was covering his eyes. “Key lime.”

“Enzo,” you say, knowing that this was probably one of Mattheo or Draco’s dumb ideas again. “You guys apologize to Lorenzo right now.”

The three boys sigh defeatedly, muttering a quiet sorry to their brunette friend who’s still wiping the whipped cream from his face.

“Why’d you do that Enzo?” You ask him as the two of you sat down on the grass. You’d finally got all the whipped cream off his face with a towel, and although Enzo won’t admit it, he was kind of grateful he did end up getting pied. After all, a pretty girl was cleaning him up after all, and not just any pretty girl, his close friend.

“Cause you’re too pretty to get pied.” He shrugs, which makes you smirk.

“Too pretty?”

“Well yeah,”

You laugh at Lorenzo’s honesty, and finally, you lean in to give him a kiss on the lips instead of the side of his cheek.

“Did you just-”

“Shh,” you say, grabbing ahold of his hand. “Just let me appreciate you right now. In a world full of just men, you’re a gentleman Enzo.”

And Lorenzo only smiles, knowing he’s finally got the girl of his dreams.

[supernatural-bias]

𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐝 𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞'𝐬 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐦

↳ summary: the x-men can't seem to leave you alone, even if you've made it clear that you want nothing to do with them. as a last-ditch effort, they send logan, who's a little different than the rest

↳ notes: man writing this fucked me up. i kept editing it because i didn't like how it sounded, so some feedback would be much appreciated

↳ warnings: mentions of blowing things up in a past instance, but no one died. reader is a mutant and their powers are kept ambiguous, but it is implied they can somehow cause explosions

↳ song: promiscuous—nelly furtado

masterlist | commissions | carrd

The first time they sent someone, you had been excepting it

You weren't dumb. You knew the difference between an innocent bystander and a hired gun; or at least something along those lines. The way people walked talked and carried themselves was always a dead giveaway, and recently you had been surrounded by a few too many intense stares and stiff shoulders for your liking. A lot more than you were used to, in fact. Maybe that's what prompted you to start taking a new way home from work instead of the usual combination of cross walks and dirty bus seats.

The quick guy with silver hair was their first attempt at contact. You had found him waiting outside your apartment for you to get home all but a week after noticing the new attention on you, and you would have ignored him too if it wasn't for the fact that he was sitting on the outside your balcony, kicking his feet merrily off the side about ten stories above the pavement below without a care in the world. And with what looked like a twinkie in his hand, too.

You'd closed the blinds without a second thought, tossing him a fake grin and a little wave when he eventually turned around as you slammed them shut. You were fairly certain he could have stopped you in no time flat, if the way you would watch him zip away in the blink of an eye later said anything, but you took a heat-of-the-moment gamble and were satisfied when all your efforts got was a whine from the other side of your window pane. His mouth was too full of pre-packaged pastry to say anything in the moment, you realized

"Not interested." You called over your back as you began to retreat into your kitchen without another moments notice.

"You haven't even heard what I want!" He said thickly, clearly trying to swallow as he spoke. You must have startled him a little then. Good.

"And I don't need to."

He left a few minutes later when his one sided conversationalist skills got him no where, and you responded by throwing a frozen pizza in the lower half of your oven.

You had been craving pepperoni all day anyway.

The second person try was a bit more aggressive.

They didn't have the decency to wait for you to come home this time. Instead, you found yourself looking up from your laptop as a chair was pulled out across from you at the quaint table you sat at. It made a scraping noise, and you tensed the muscles in your hands for a moment at the sound.

"Can I help you." Your eyebrow quirked up as you looked at the woman across from you. She had blonde hair, and what you thought were the brownest eyes you had even seen. You had trouble looking anywhere but into them for a second. When they hit the light, you swore they turned yellow just for a moment, and she looked about as annoyed as you were that she was sitting by you. You didn't have to wait long to find out why.

"We've been trying to reach you." The surrounding noise of the café hardly disturbed the hard tone in her voice. "You're avoiding us."

At least this time these people had the common sense to approach you in public. If you were any form of confrontational, which you very much weren't, you could have started a fight the last time. Who knows if you would have won against super speed and whatever else the first guy had— you weren't exactly sure about the extent of his powers, and at this point didn't care —but the point remains that some damage could have been done. Now, in the middle of a coffee shop on a busy afternoon, it would be a bit harder to start a fight. Not that you were seriously concidering it. If anything, you wanted to duck into a large crowd just to loose this new recruiter, or whatever they were called. You didn't exactly know if they had a name for this type of situation.

"I have no idea who you are." Your tone matched her own, dealing out the half lie nonchalantly. You weren't technically wrong, really. You didn't know her, nor did you know that other man that had shown up before. But you knew what they wanted, and you'd be damned if they didn't pin you down without a bit of a struggle.

Moving with a speed quick enough to get your message across, but not fast enough as to alert any of the surrounding coustomers that something was up, you closed your laptop, abandoned your now lukewarm drink, and started for the door. You only paused in your movements after a weight settled over the back of your shoulder, and you carefully turned your neck to look down at the hand resting firmly on you.

"I don't recommend doing that." You said with a bit of a warning tone in your voice, looking her right in the eyes as you did so. They had since shifted from dark brown to an almost hazel shade, and you filed that information away for later use.

Her grip remained where it was for a moment. Then a thought seemed to cross her mind, and she let go of her hold on your shirt; even if a bit reluctantly.

You didn't stick around to see if anything else would happen. You just made your way out of the shop and into the bustling street, not caring if she followed. They already knew where you lived anyway.

"Taxi!!"

The final person they sent for you, you hadn't seen coming.

Every other time— from the teleporting blue kid, to the woman with white hair and fair skin, and even the tall guy in glasses that had turned a little blue when you pushed your way past him —you had been able to prepare beforehand. At the very least you were able to lock your doors before going out and about your day. You knew that wouldn't stop them in the slightest, but it was a silent message to stay out of your business.

But this guy? This guy just didn't care at all.

"You know, you're really nailing this first impression thing."

A gruff voice sprang to life at the same moment that your hallway lights did, doing a fine job at catching you off guard. You managed to not jump, but with the way the intruders lips tilted up, you figured he knew he had surprised you.

"Oh, fuck my life."

You were really not feeling like another impromptu visit tonight. You had gotten home from a rough day of work a couple of hours ago, only to realize that you had finally blown through all your food, and was once more sent back out into the city to look for a grocery store. You had been looking forward to finally resting your feet, and maybe your eyes a few hours earlier than planned, and you most certainly weren't in the right state of mind to entertain this hulking figure of a man and the proposition that came with him.

You looked at him harshly. He had muscles for days, and a brown leather jacket to accentuate just how large he was. You knew for a fact that he was a few weight classes up from the last guy that had been sent to your house, and you wondered if this was their way of trying to intimidate you into forcefully accepting their offer.

Tiny scars dotted his face and the skin on his neck. You wondered why there were so few, considering that you already knew what he did for a living, but also knew better than to question someone like him. Especially since he was already standing in the doorway to your home, looking like he owned the place.

"Go away." You didn't grant him any sort of emotion in your voice as you walked in the direction of your fridge. The plastic bags full of your food for the week swung in your arms, and for a moment you thought this new guy was going to block your way into the rest of the house before he backed off with a roll of his shoulders.

You clocked his broad chest and bruised knuckles out of the corner of your eyes as you opened the ice box and slowly placed some frozen veggies in side by side. He had either gotten here straight from a fight, or was itching for one. You figured it was probably the former considering he hadn't jumped you the second you walked through the door. Or you know, maybe he just had fucked up hands. You could never tell with people at this point.

"You're pleasant." The mans wry smile was nothing but headache educing as you finished putting the cold groceries up. You snorted with hollow amusement.

"Try being stalked for a month and a half. It really makes you feel like being hospitable."

"Try being the guy that gets sent to get in contact with you. It ain't exactly the way I wanted to be spending my Friday night either." He parroted back your words while running a hand down his face and across what you had since recognized as mutton chops in the process.

"When are you going to tell that professor of yours that I'm not interested in his little passion project." You think that might have been the first time you ever directly acknowledged what exactly was going on. Every other time you had just told the other person to get lost or slammed a door in their face to really get the point across, but the way this guy was looking at you gave you the feeling that he wouldn't be as easy to shoo away as the others, and you weren't really feeling up for a giant display of effort right about now.

"You could always tell him yourself, bub." His eyes followed your face as you crossed the room to stop in front of him, hand outstretched with something that ignited a small smirk on his face.

"Trying to bribe me?" He asked, going to take the fresh beer you offered him all the same. You shook your head.

"No. My master plan actually consists of getting you shit-faced drunk so you guys will finally leave me alone." You watched as his hand hesitated in mid-air slightly, and you misinterpreted his silent amusement at your jab for skepticism. "I've just got too much beer and a stranger in my apartment that's not going to leave me alone anytime soon, that’s all." You relented with a shrug.

"Fair enough." He took the brown bottle by the neck and popped open the top without so much as looking around for a bottle opener. When the cap went rushing to the floor less than a second later, you squinted.

"What are you then? Super strong? Or is your power alcoholism." That got a rough chuckle out of him. He swallowed about half of the bottle in one go before answering, and you sucked at your teeth as he did so.

"Something like that."

"Wow. Really feeling the comradery here." You didn't miss the way he deadpanned at that, and you figured he was thinking about all of the times you had kicked every other pursuer to the curb without even letting them get a word in edge wise. Still, you pushed on. "Remind me how its fair that you and your friends know all about me, but I have a new hero-of-the-week showing up on my doorstep every other day without so much as a clue as to what they could do to me?"

"About as fair as your little accident in Colorado." He responded without a seconds hesitation. You felt a little perspiration form on the back of your neck, and chalked it up to the lack of a.c in the room. Even if it was anything but.

"If you're here to try and convince me to join your little superhero team, I hate to tell you, but it isn't going to work. Just like it didn't work the past ten times." You ignored his last comment and made yourself comfortable on your living room couch. "Do you have a name? I've never really stuck around to talk to one of you this long before, and it's annoying to keep rendering to you as 'some guy' in my head."

He paused abruptly while drinking the beer, and you barely held back from rolling your eyes at his change in mood.

"It's Logan." He finally bit out reluctantly. You got the feeling that the only reason he told you was because he was here by request. If it has been any other circumstances, you had no doubts that he would have told you to fuck off. He gave off that energy.

"You already know mine, so I'm not gonna bother." You kicked your feet up and let your head hit the back of the couch with a sigh. "Just let me know when you finally get bored and head out. I want to make sure my landlord knows to blacklist you from the building after you're gone."

"Is this how you got everyone else to leave? By annoying them to death?" Logan sounded more entertained then you would have liked, and you blamed it on the beer.

"Depends. Is it working?"

"I've been sleeping at a school filled with screaming kids for the past few weeks. You're going to have to try harder than that to get me out of here." He took another swig.

"What will it take to get you to leave me alone. All of you." Your voice dipped out of it's usually casual tone for a more annoyed one. You were used to playing the long game when it came to getting people to leave you alone, but at this point it was getting ridiculous with the amount of people that they were throwing at you, and it was starting to wear you out. You weren't sure if Logan could tell your patience was being tested, and you weren't sure if you wanted him to.

Logan raised one eyebrow in your direction as an answer to your question, and you sighed.

"I'm not taking a stupid fucking spot on the X-Men if that's what you're implying. What do I have to do to convince you guys that I'm not up for it; blow up a building on accident or something?" The word 'again' went unsaid, but the implication was there.

You watched as Logan seemed to throw something around in his mind for a moment.

"Do you want to know why I joined the X-Men?" He eventually asked.

"Because you had nothing else to do with yourself other than styling your hair real stupid? Seriously what's with this horn thing you've got going in."

"I joined because they helped pull me off a dark path, kid." He barreled past your sarcasm, shutting you down quicker than you would like to admit. His tone was laced with something you recognized all as hatred, and you knew it wasn't directed at you, but rather himself. You knew the feeling all too well.

"I was running from something that I didn't even know I was trying to avoid." He continued. "And if it wasn't for the Professor and his 'stupid fucking team', I wouldn't have ever stopped."

For the first time in the past few minutes, you allowed one of your walls to come down as he spoke. You stared at him with a tired look lingering behind your gaze, choosing this time to listen rather than to ignore.

"I'm not running from anything." Even as you said it, you knew it was a lie. Logan didn't even have to look at you for you to sigh and lean forward again.

"I can see why the Professor wants you on the team." You felt the cushions on the opposite end of your couch dip slowly as he sat down. The now empty beer bottle was still in his hand, but as you looked over at Logan, you found his eyes filled to the brim with nothing but the honest truth.

It was a strange, tense moment. Both you and Logan could admit that. You were clearly filled with regret for your past actions, no matter how accidental they might have been, and conflicted with yourself because of it. Logan could do nothing more but watch as you battled with yourself over his words. His original plan had been to come here, show off a claw or two if needed, and bring you back to the school with a characteristic scowl on his face. But all that was thrown out the window when you offered him a beer, and when he was finally able to get a good look at you.

You looked exactly how he used to before one of his old cage matches. Detached and losing yourself. He could see it in your eyes.

The room delved into silence. You wrung your hands together and planted your feet. Logan watched as you seemed to have a silent conversation with yourself, and he began to regret not pacing himself with the beer. He wasn't anywhere near affected by the alcohol, that's to say. He just wished he had something to do other than sit in your home with squared shoulders and a furrowed brow.

"If I took one trip over to the place, would you guys let up on whatever this is?" You finally asked. Logan pushed down a faint smirk as you turned your neck to look at him.

"Sure."

You didn't say anything else, and you didn't have to. You got up without another word and grabbed a bag from a nearby closet. Logan found himself leaning on your doorframe as you stuffed a few essentials down into your travel bag in the room over, and he remained there until you finished.

"Still curious about my powers?" Logan decided to bait you just a little further as you shut the door to your apartment with a click of your keys, and he had trouble keeping a straight face when you looked back at him with curiosity dancing across your features.

Without saying anything, he held one of his hands up, and let you watch as his trademark claws popped up slowly. Like seasonal weeds in a garden full of flowers. The appendages let out a slight sliding noise as they did so, and you blinked once. Twice. Three times.

"And I thought my powers were bad." You finally said after a moment, and Logan scoffed at you.

"Kid, everyone thinks their powers are bad at first."

You seemed to take that as a challenge, and Logan watched as a bit of that fire that he'd heard about from Storm and the others flared up in you.

"Yeah? You ever accidently blow up a boiler room and take out half your high school's classes, big guy?" Your grin was all teeth as the two of you made your way down the complex hallway. Logan slowed his pace so you could keep up, and turned around so he could fully look at you as he walked backwards.

"Big guy?" He questioned you with a tilted of his head, looking about as unimpressed as he could.

"I mean yeah." You snickered. "Just look at your, well, everything." You took to gesturing at his entire being, something that got you a huff from the other man.

"Maybe you're just small." He shot back. You laughed and shook your head, looking down at yourself. Yeah right.

"And maybe I'm right, and you're just freakishly big."

Your banter continued all the way down to the elevator, where you had a hard time holding in your laughter as Logan accidentally almost stabbed the down button with his claws, apparently having forgotten that they were even out.

You couldn't help but wonder if he was always like this; if everyone at the school was like this.

Maybe going for a visit wasn't as much as a bad idea as you'd thought.