#with the phone sex scene and the cake scene

[ennaih]

Not Every Film I Watch In 2024

29. The Truth About Cats And Dogs (1996) -- very much a rewatch

aaaand bonus because how could i not:

[fushitoru]

infect me with your love

pairing ⸺ spiderman!gojo x reader

summary ⸺ you have always existed in gojo satoru’s shadow. he is a physics prodigy, a person that everyone endlessly admires for his intelligence and charisma, and you hate him for taking the spotlight that you deserve to share with him. but it all changes one day at 5:07AM at your starbucks job when gojo barges in, ordering ridiculously sweet drinks and posing existential questions. is there more to gojo that meets the eye, and is it linked to the vigilante swinging around New York City?

warnings ⸺ college au, academic rivals to lovers, SMUT, tooth rotting fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, basically the holy trinity, reader works at Starbucks (BOYCOTT tho), set in NYC, both reader and gojo are physics majors, mentions of SA, attempt at SA on reader but nothing too graphic, some violence, gojo swings reader across NYC so might trigger fear of heights?. SPIDER-MAN KISS SPIDERMAN KISS, injury and mentions of blood, mentions of gun, inappropriate use of webs LOL, fingering, oral, p in v sex, reader has a vagina, fem reader implied

playlist ⸺ quantum rizzics

a/n thank you for @avaults my POOKIE for beta reading this. this has been a journey and my first longfic and i hope you guys enjoy this as much as i did writing it it's my baby:')

if u don’t wanna read the smut just skip the part after they make up, it’s not necessary to the story and is the ending scene. but just to be clear, minors dni.

kinktober masterlist | general masterlist

fun fact: starbucks opens at 5am.

of course, that depends on your local hours and where you live, but in the campus starbucks you worked at, your manager fortunately didn’t really care if you showed up to your opening shift a bit late. after all, no professor or undergrad is waking up at the ass crack of dawn to get a fuckin coffee; if they really needed a pick me up, they’d go to get the free alcohol at one of the frats that was still partying. 

matter of fact, your manager didn’t really give a fuck what you did as long as you didn’t get the shop blown up or the matcha spilled (it was expensive). this meant you could leisurely wake up at 4:45am and set up the display muffins and cake pops when you arrived in the shop at 5:20am. really, the manager ought to reduce the hours because all you do is finish your readings for your gen ed history classes on the canvas app on your phone. so, really you get paid for doing your homework on your shifts—not that you’re complaining or anything.

that is, until gojo satoru.

first, let’s get the record straight about who gojo is. gojo is a physics second-year—same as you–who is the bane of your existence. up until a few months ago, you never saw gojo satoru outside of classes (where he was dozing off) unless you happened to show up at a frat party, which was only a few occurrences when you got peer pressured by your friends. clearly, he was a “work hard, party hard” type person because he frequents the frats more than the library while having the grades to make up for it because he’s a prodigy. he’s charismatic and smart as fuck; right out of middle school he was studying manifolds and abstract algebra while the rest of the high school freshmen were learning the quadratic equation and the concept of variables. he probably learned what gravity was at age of two and was doing research in quantum field theory by the time he got into college. 

take the last time you saw him outside of class, at office hours with professor yaga.

the air in professor yaga’s office is thick with the scent of old textbooks, the hum of the overhead lights adding to the familiar quiet. you’ve been waiting all week for this chance, and you’re armed with a question that’s supposed to signal i’ve done my homework. you lean forward, trying to project confidence as you ask, “i read in your last paper that you’re working on optimizing error correction in quantum computing systems. is there a reason you prioritized stabilizer codes over surface codes?”

professor yaga’s brow lifts, impressed, and you can feel the warmth of his approval starting to settle around you. “ah,” he says, sounding pleasantly surprised, “you’ve actually read it. that’s... a complicated question.” he leans back, launching into an explanation, and for a second, you think this might actually be it—the moment he notices you for your dedication, your depth of knowledge.

but then, the door creaks open behind you.

you tense, a sinking feeling pooling in your stomach even before you turn around. of course, it’s gojo satoru, strolling in like he owns the place. his bag is slung over one shoulder, and he’s flashing that easy grin that never seems to falter. he spares you the briefest glance before zeroing in on professor yaga.

professor yaga’s face shifts instantly, a mixture of annoyance and resignation flashing in his eyes as he sighs, “gojo. nice of you to join us.”

“hey, i was just passing by,” gojo says casually, though he’s clearly anything but. he doesn’t pass by anywhere without making an entrance. “thought i’d check in on how everyone’s doing.”

the glint in yaga’s eyes sharpens, and he fixes gojo with a look. “when’s that last problem set coming in, satoru? i’ve had enough late assignments from you for one semester.”

at this, another professor at a nearby desk chuckles, casting an amused glance at gojo. “don’t push him too hard, yaga,” he says as if gojo’s delinquency is something charming, a shared inside joke. “kid’s already got the department’s highest scores without trying.”

oh, for god’s fucking sake. you force yourself not to roll your eyes, your grip tightening on the strap of your bag as you sink back in your chair. of course, all it takes is for him to show up and somehow you’re rendered invisible. just minutes ago, professor yaga was engaging with you, treating you as if you might actually belong in this room with your carefully constructed question. now, he’s utterly distracted, entirely absorbed by whatever pseudo-flattering insults he’s throwing at gojo. and, for the record, that stupid, balding professor is wrong. you have the same fucking scores as gojo, so you’re equals.

you’re not even sure gojo realizes he’s doing it—that he has this magnetic, obnoxious effect on everyone in a room. but that’s exactly what grates on you the most. he pulls all eyes to him, like he’s some cosmic force everyone’s compelled to admire. and you? you’re just… there. not that it’s any different than the usual experiences you’ve had as a woman in stem, always feeling like you have to prove yourself five times over. but somehow, gojo makes it worse.

and he does it all effortlessly, like physics is some sort of playground where he can breeze through research and exams, sprinkling charisma wherever he goes. he’s probably off writing his own theories on manifolds while everyone else is struggling to keep up with quantum mechanics. meanwhile, here you are, clawing for every shred of recognition, only to watch it fizzle as soon as he steps into the room.

he flashes a grin at professor yaga. “i’ll get it in,” he says, waving a hand dismissively. “i’m just, you know, prioritizing. some of us have… extracurriculars.” he doesn’t wink, but he might as well.

you resist the urge to scoff, sinking deeper into your seat as the frustration bubbles up, sharp and hot. it’s not like you’re jealous. you’d rather endure anything than admit that. but watching gojo waltz in and immediately siphon off any attention you’d managed to earn feels like a slap. if he could just stop showing up, or better yet, stop pretending to be so casually brilliant, maybe—just maybe—you’d have a chance at something other than this routine invisibility.

you let out a huff, pretending to check the time, imagining you had somewhere better to be. you have brilliant, observant blue eyes following you out the door, but you’re too busy trying to keep yourself together until you reach your dorm, where you ugly cry it out.

which, of course, brings you to mornings like this one, where you actually do have to be somewhere. namely, behind the counter at the campus starbucks, opening up shop while most of the world is still asleep. you catch sight of the green mermaid logo ahead, just visible through the dim haze of a 5:07 a.m. chill.

and right beneath it, there’s a familiar head of silver hair.

your eyes have to double take on the man who seems to be looking a bit slouched, tired and leaning against the light pole while tapping his foot. the muscular yet tall stature and white hair are unmistakable; it’s the same ones you’ve dreamed about throttling. but you’re so confused as to why he’s there that you just decide to wordlessly walk towards the store and open up, ignoring his presence until his voice cuts through the morning silence.

“doesn’t this store open up at 5?” his voice sounds tired and groggy, you notice. 

“uh, yea,” you answer tentatively, shrugging. “but, um, no one comes until 7 so i show up late.”

his eyes narrow and somewhat playfully (well, as playful as he can sound at the ass crack of dawn anyways), he asks, “don’t you know time is of the essence? seems pretty irresponsible to me that you’re not showing up on time.”

you just stare at him for a bit because, after all, this is the guy you’ve been having the murderous equivalent of wet dreams about for the past year talking to you in a friendly, joking, familiar way. needless to say, you’re at a loss of words in your slightly flustered state, so all that comes out is a short “sorry” before you’re walking in, getting ready to put on your apron and setting the oven on to heat up the croissants. 

gojo follows in after you, choosing to sit at the table closest to the counter. he sets the backpack he had on his back down, rummaging through and whipping out his laptop and plugging it in. it’s a heavy old thing, and gojo’s biceps strain as he pulls it out and you almost snort when looking at it in its entirety. a gaming laptop.

 but you don’t do that, because laughing at someone who’s a stranger to you would be mean, no matter how much you hate him, so you resort to setting up the counter and getting some powders out. bending over, you get the newly shipped box of cake pops, deigning to put them out on display until you’re interrupted with a cough.

you turn, looking inquisitively at gojo until he points down to the counter, indicating that he wants to order. you mumble, “just a second!” before you continue hauling the box to put it on the top counter where you can easily unpack it and brush your hands, walking up to gojo and getting the system ready to take his order. 

and your fingers are poised on the buttons until you realize that no order is coming out of his mouth. you blink, and he blinks, keeping a stoic face that nevertheless poorly conceals an amused expression.

“…what can i get you?” 

at that, he pouts. “no good morning? no chirpy hello?”

you just stare at him for a good second. what the fuck?

“what?” gojo frowns. “shouldn’t you do that to every customer?” you realize belatedly you’ve said it out loud in your shock, but shake it off nonetheless. 

the silence lingers after gojo’s teasing comment, making you acutely aware of the odd situation: you’re standing there in your work apron, face-to-face with the man you’ve imagined taking down in your head a thousand times, and yet here he is, tired but playfully trying to chat you up. you should hate this—he’s getting under your skin, but for some reason, you just feel unsettled, disturbed that he’s so human.

you don’t trust your voice to not crack while making eye contact with him, so, instead, you focus on your screen. you settle on a simple, flat, “morning,” without a hint of cheerfulness, staring down at the register like it’s your lifeline.

gojo’s eyebrow quirks at your half-hearted greeting, but he says nothing, opting instead to study you with an amused glint. you can feel his gaze, like a weight on your skin, and it almost makes you shiver. he leans forward a little, propping his elbows on the counter, his posture loose but expectant. his playful energy is barely masking something beneath it, something harder.

gojo's grin is wide, almost boyish, and it makes your stomach churn more than it should.

“see? was that so hard?” he says, leaning forward on his elbows like he’s settling in for a chat. his tone is too friendly for someone who’s never exchanged more than a glance with you in class—someone you’ve been actively avoiding whenever possible.

you scowl, moving to the register to finally punch in his order. “what would you like?”

“hmm...” he taps his chin, dragging out the silence. he’s enjoying this, that much is obvious. “surprise me.”

you blink, fingers still poised over the buttons. “surprise you?”

“yeah,” he says, shrugging like it’s no big deal. “you work here. you know what’s good.”

you want to throttle him. really, truly throttle him. there’s no way this is real—no way the gojo satoru is sitting in front of you at 5:07 in the morning, asking you to surprise him with a starbucks order like he’s some quirky regular.

and yet, here you are.

“fine,” you mutter, punching in the order for the sweetest, most ridiculous concoction you can think of. caramel drizzle, extra whipped cream, a pump of every syrup in the back room—you’re not going easy on him. “that’ll be eight dollars.”

he doesn’t blink at the ridiculous price. of course, he doesn’t.

pulling out his phone, he taps it against the card reader and flashes you another grin. “thanks, i’m sure it’ll be great.”

you barely resist the urge to roll your eyes. “uh-huh.”

as you move to make the drink, the silence between you stretches uncomfortably. you’ve spent so much time thinking about gojo, despising him, that now that he’s here, right in front of you, you don’t know how to act. and the worst part? he seems perfectly at ease, completely unfazed by the fact that you’ve spent the better part of a year dreaming of his downfall. he’s back to looking at his stupid heavy ahh gaming laptop, and as you move over to put in copious amounts of caramel pumps, you notice that he’s on cool math games playing fireboy and watergirl and almost snort out loud. he’s locked in on his game, his legs moving up and down anxiously, reminiscent of an ipad kid.

after a few minutes of assembling his monstrosity of a drink, you slide it across the counter. “here,” you say, trying to keep the irritation out of your voice.

gojo raises an eyebrow at the drink, the sheer volume of whipped cream threatening to spill over the lid. “wow,” he says, sounding genuinely impressed. “you really went all out.”

“you said to surprise you.”

“i did,” he admits, grabbing the cup and taking a slow, deliberate sip. his eyes widen slightly at the overly sweet taste, and for a brief moment, you think you’ve won.

but then he smiles again, that same irritatingly carefree smile, and you know you haven’t. 

“so,” gojo begins, leaning back in his chair like he’s settling in for a long conversation. “what’s a genius like you doing working the early shift at starbucks?”

your hands freeze mid-clean, and you glance at him sharply. genius?

you can’t tell if he’s being sincere or mocking you—probably the latter, considering who he is—but the word still lingers in the air between you, unsettling.

you scoff, trying to brush it off. “gotta pay the bills somehow,” you mutter, going back to wiping down the counter. but gojo’s gaze is heavy on you, and you can tell he’s not letting it go.

you glance up at him. “look, i like having time to think in the mornings. it’s quiet. besides, no one’s lining up for coffee before 7, so it’s not like i’m missing anything.”

gojo chuckles softly, but there’s something off about it. “thinking time, huh?” he repeats your words, but there’s a strange edge to them, like he’s mulling them over. in fact, you think you just realize that he’s been acting oddly this entire morning, restlessness evident in his figure. he taps his fingers on the table, his eyes flickering to the window, watching the gray morning light spill into the shop.

“doesn’t it ever feel like…” he trails off, brow furrowing slightly. “i don’t know… like you should be doing something else? like… something more?”

his question hangs in the air, heavy and unspoken, but you get the feeling he’s not talking about you. there’s something in his voice, something that sounds like he’s grappling with his own thoughts, with his own place in the world.

for a moment, you’re tempted to brush him off. to tell him he’s overthinking things, that he’s gojo satoru and he already has everything laid out for him. but something stops you. maybe it’s the way he looks—his usual confidence slightly cracked at the edges, his playful tone masking something else. something deeper.

you shrug, turning back to the counter. “i mean… it doesn’t have to be ‘more’ all the time. sometimes just showing up is enough.”

there’s a pause, and you can feel the weight of your words sinking in. gojo goes quiet, really quiet, and when you glance back at him, his usual smirk is gone. he’s just… staring at you, eyes narrowed slightly like he’s trying to figure you out.

“just… showing up, huh?” he repeats softly, almost like he’s testing the words. his fingers stop tapping, and he leans back in his chair, his gaze unfocused, like he’s somewhere else entirely. somewhere in his own head.

you don’t say anything else. you’ve said your piece, and somehow, you know it hit deeper than either of you expected. there’s a strange silence between you now, not uncomfortable, but heavy with understanding.

gojo stands up after a long pause, grabbing his bag and slinging it over his shoulder. he looks at you, his usual grin slipping back into place, but it’s softer now. less cocky. more real.

“maybe you’re right,” he says, and this time there’s no teasing in his voice. “sometimes it’s enough just to show up.”

and with that, he gives you a small nod, turning and heading out into the cold morning. the door swings shut behind him, and for a second, you just stand there, staring after him.

something’s shifted. you don’t know what it is, but it feels like the start of something. something bigger than just a rivalry.

you shake your head, turning back to the counter. it’s too early for this shit.

…

“you know, i didn’t get your name.”

gojo’s voice cuts through the low hum of the espresso machine as he leans against the counter, that same insufferable grin plastered across his face. he’s here again, of course, only this time it’s during your closing shift. the place is quiet, almost deserted except for the occasional customer who swings by for a quick coffee before heading back out into the cold.

you look up from the equipment you were cleaning, already annoyed. “i’m pretty sure we’ve shared at least one class every semester.”

you weren’t trying to hide the pettiness. gojo, for all his academic genius, clearly couldn’t be bothered to remember you—a recurring face in his orbit. it’s not like you were expecting him to remember you, especially among the sea of faces in lecture halls, but something about the way he strolled in, acting like this was just some cute, quirky meet-cute, got under your skin.

gojo quirks an eyebrow in confusion, his gaze drifting up toward the ceiling as if searching the recesses of his mind for your name—only to come up empty. “are you a grad student?”

you flash him an exasperated look. “just for that, i’m not telling you.”

grabbing a towel to wipe your hands, you step out from behind the barista counter, heading towards the trash can just behind him to restock the straws. as you make your way to the supply room, you can feel his eyes following your every move. to your surprise, gojo starts walking toward you, his presence looming as you dump the straws into the container.

it isn’t until you turn around that you realize he’s standing right next to you, bent comically at the waist and squinting at something on your chest. heat creeps up your neck and into your cheeks as you realize his proximity and move to take a step back. 

he wasn’t ogling you (thank god), but instead, squinting at the nametag pinned to your apron.

"ah," he says, straightening up with a triumphant grin. “there it is. y/n, huh?” the way his mouth rolls over your name slowly makes you feel a bit weird, because after all, this is the guy you’ve shit talked about in your diary finally acknowledging you existed, but before you can reflect on the feeling, you bristle again in annoyance. 

“really? you had to get that close just to read my name?”

gojo doesn’t seem fazed by your annoyance, in fact, it only seems to amuse him further. “hey, i was just trying to be thorough. gotta make sure i get it right, you know?” his grin widens, and you swear he’s enjoying this way too much.

“thorough. sure.” you turn away, trying to busy yourself with the straws again, but the heat still lingers on your face. his proximity had been… unexpected. and a little too close for comfort.

when you’re done with the straws, you steel the courage to turn your body so you’re facing him, making an indication with your hands for him to move out of your way. instead of him giving you space to leave the cramped corner, he leans against the counter now like he practically owns the place. in doing so, he effectively pins you against the corner of the coffee shop, leaving you no option but to fiddle with the straws while pointedly avoiding his gaze, but not before you see the pout on his face. “you’re not going to ask me for my name?”

“i know it. it’s gojo.” you immediately curse yourself for letting your lips loose.

fuck. he squints his eyes in what you perceive as suspicion. “how do you know my name?”

“i saw it on your credit card information.” you couldn’t exactly tell him how you’ve stalked him (as well as how inefficient you found a function in his 6th grade robotics code), so that would be a plausible enough reason. 

but gojo, of course, doesn’t let up. “so, y/n,” he starts. “you going to the party next week? you know, for halloweekend?”

ah, halloweekend. the ultimate weekend for getting excuses to dress slutilly, excessively drink, and get laid. at your college, it was an even bigger deal, with people partying for all three days of the week’s end as well as the weekend before and after halloween. you shook your head. “i don’t think so.” that phys 321 assignment was not going to finish itself, nor were parties really your scene.

“what?” he immediately crosses his arms across his chest, frowning and leaning closer to you to squint at you. “why?”

you sigh inwardly, awkward at the prospect of him bugging you further about your life. “i’m bu—”

you’re interrupted by the sound of the door opening and instinctively move to get behind the counter to take the new customer’s order; at first, you thank the heavens that you got a distraction from gojo, that you’re not alone anymore, but seeing who the customer was, the hope extinguishes like a candle face with wind.

you both see a man swagger in, the same guy you’ve noticed hanging around far too often lately. his eyes immediately lock onto you, and a slow, sleazy grin spreads across his face.

“hey, look who’s still here,” the man says, sauntering over to the counter like he owns the place. “my favorite barista.”

you tense, forcing a smile. “what can i get you?”

he doesn’t answer right away, his gaze sliding down your body in a way that makes your skin crawl. “i was thinking…” he drawls, leaning in closer than necessary, “you and i should hang out. you’re always here, and i’m always here, so it’s like fate or something, right?”

your stomach churns, and you take a small step back, maintaining your composure. “i’m good, thanks.”

but he doesn’t let up, leaning further across the counter. “come on, don’t be like that. just one drink. you deserve it after a long day.”

“i really can’t—”

“don’t be shy,” he interrupts, a grin spreading wider. “i’m a nice guy, i promise.”

before you can think of another polite rejection, gojo steps forward, his body language shifting entirely. the playful air around him evaporates, replaced by something colder, more dangerous. he positions himself squarely between you and the guy, effectively cutting off the man’s view of you.

“she said no,” gojo says, his voice firm, low. “so why don’t you fuck off?”

the sleazy guy blinks, clearly not expecting the sudden shift. his smile fades, and he glares at gojo, sizing him up like he’s considering pushing back. but one glance at gojo’s unwavering stare, and the guy decides it’s not worth it. with a muttered curse, he turns and leaves, the door swinging shut behind him.

you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. the guy’s been bothering you routinely; part of you thinks that he’s still not going to leave you alone, but the rest of you visibly relaxes, the weight of this guy’s harassment lifting off your shoulders under gojo’s protection.

gojo turns back to you, the usual teasing smirk creeping back onto his face, though his eyes are still sharp. “you okay?”

“yeah,” you manage, though your voice is quieter than you’d like. “thanks for that.”

“don’t mention it.” he shrugs it off like it was nothing, but there’s something different in the way he’s looking at you now—something protective. “i know you’re perfectly capable of handling yourself, but i figured i’d speed things up a bit.”

you roll your eyes, trying to shake off the tension. “you’re such a hero, gojo.”

“always,” he replies with a wink. and just like that, the moment’s lightened again, the balance between you restored, though there’s a subtle shift in the air. something unspoken between the two of you—an understanding, maybe.

you don’t acknowledge it out loud, but as you go back to restocking, you find yourself glancing at him more than before. and for the first time in… well, ever, you don’t completely mind his presence.

…

fast forward a few hours, and after a bit of conversation, gojo finally leaves the fine institution that is your campus starbucks. right now, you’re alone and finishing cleaning up. you lock up, the starbucks finally closed, finishing your last task for the night. it’s quiet—too quiet, actually, with the usual streetlights casting strange shadows across the empty sidewalk. the air feels heavy, like something unseen is lingering just out of reach, watching from the dark. you shake it off, telling yourself you’re just tired and letting your nerves get to you.

as you start your walk back to your dorm, the feeling only grows. the street’s nearly empty, and with each step, the silence presses in closer. it’s fine, you tell yourself, picking up your pace. but then you hear it: the echo of footsteps, faint but unmistakable. heart pounding, you speed up, every instinct telling you to just get back. almost there. you just have to cross the alley—

“hey there,” a voice drawls, and your stomach sinks. a hand moves to grab at your shoulder, making you turn quickly. what meets your vision is the same guy from earlier, his grin widening in a way that makes your skin crawl.

you try to move out of his grip, but he grabs you harder, cutting off any escape. “aw, don’t be like that. i just wanted some company.”

your throat’s dry, but you manage, “i said no.”

he doesn’t even pretend to listen, his gaze trailing over you with that same leering interest. “no need to be so uptight. i could make this fun for you.”

your back hits the wall of the alley. trapped. he leans in, his breath warm and sour against your face, one hand reaching out as he says something sleazy that you can barely hear over the pounding in your ears—

and then a voice cuts in from above, all easy humor. “y’know, i always thought this city’s trash problem was bad, but this is something else.”

your heart leaps in your chest at the small flicker of hope, that someone has the balls to try to rescue you. but as you—and this creep—turn, you find no evidence of another party present, only his mysterious presence. 

“who’s there?” the guy snarls, his grip tightening so much that you wince. “why don’t you get lost if you know what’s good for you—”

“dude, don’t you have any rizz?” the mysterious boy retorts.the stranger has a youthful voice, someone of your age.  “the way you have to resort to sexual harassment is just sad. you guys are always sooo predictable, you’re so gonna tell me to scram or something.”

the man scowls, hand leaving your arm in an effort to search for the stranger in the dark. “why don’t you mind your own business, punk—”

and he’s interrupted, because a shiny, silver something flings out in the darkness and lands on his face, sending his arms in a frenzy to uncover what it is. the man rips the sticky, silver webbing off his face with a growl, looking around wildly, his expression shifting from confusion to anger. his eyes dart through the dark alley, searching for the source of that cocky voice, but there’s nothing—just shadows and the faint flicker of a streetlamp somewhere down the block.

“who the hell are you?” he snaps, twisting his neck as if he could scare whoever’s hiding out there into the open. “show yourself, you bastard!”

a chuckle echoes from the darkness, bouncing off the brick walls. “wow, real tough guy, huh? but you should work on those anger issues. they’re, uh…a bit unbecoming.”

the man spins around, and another burst of webbing flies out from somewhere unseen, sticking to his shoulder this time. he yanks it off with a frustrated grunt, his head whipping from side to side as he tries to locate the stranger.

“you think this is funny?” he spits, voice raised in a mix of fear and fury.

“depends. do you?” the voice is closer now, almost like the stranger is right above you, yet no one’s there. “or is this just a big overreaction? all i did was suggest you rethink your approach. go to therapy or sum’.”

the man snarls, fists clenched, starting to look downright unhinged. “get down here and say that to my face, punk!”

“as you wish.”

with a soft thump, a figure drops from above, landing directly in front of the guy in a low crouch. in the dim light, all you see at first are the blue and black accents on the otherwise white suit, his head tilting up, illuminated just enough that his white, wide eyes glow with a certain playful menace. and then, your eyes widen as you gasp to yourself. 

you’ve seen him before.

okay, pause.

you’re a busy college student, one who stays entrenched in the bubble of upcoming exams, assignments, and problem sets that you don’t check the news often. in the off chance you do turn from your usual consumption of social media during your breaks to the news, you only have time to read the big headlines.

so you did read somewhere that in your university’s city of new york city, there was a masked menan—vigilante that had beat up a few guys near a shawarma joint or prevented some shootings at a nightclub. new york city was full of incompetent cops that were on the lookout for him (a/n acabbbbbb) since this guy was a vigilante, some kind of superhero slinging around on webs. some name—spiderman.

but before you could read more into the article, your soul almost left your body when you got a canvas notification saying your midterm was graded, so that was the end of that.

alright, pause over. back to now.

“hi!” spiderman chirps, giving him a friendly wave before ducking just as the man throws a punch. the swing goes wide, and spiderman straightens up with a disappointed sigh. “see, this is why i’m the one with the web powers. you’d hurt yourself with these moves.”

without warning, the man charges again, swinging in rapid succession, but each one misses as spiderman easily sidesteps, practically dancing around him. “oof, dude, how did you make it this far in life with reflexes like that?” he ducks another blow, slipping behind the guy to give him a light tap on the shoulder as he passes.

the man stumbles, eyes flashing with frustration, and lets out a roar, reaching down to pick up a loose brick from the alley floor. he raises it above his head, face twisted in a snarl.

“oh, so we’re improvising now?” spiderman quips, and before the man can bring the brick down, a strand of webbing shoots out, sticking to the brick and yanking it from his grasp. it flies off somewhere into the alley, landing with a dull clatter.

the guy stumbles forward, off balance, and spiderman takes the opportunity to web his feet to the ground, immobilizing him in place. the man struggles, pulling his legs, but he’s stuck fast.

“ever heard of boundaries?” spiderman asks, tilting his head with mock innocence. “or, like, self-restraint? you should look into it.”

the man glares, seething, still struggling against the webs. “you think you’re some kinda hero?” he sneers.

spiderman shrugs, glancing over at you, catching your gaze in a way that makes you feel both strangely comforted and seen. “nah, hero’s a big word. i’m just your friendly neighborhood guy with slightly above-average reflexes.”

with a frustrated yell, the man finally wrenches one arm free and makes a desperate lunge, his fist connecting with spiderman’s side. spiderman lets out a small grunt but only wobbles slightly before grinning. “okay, buddy, playtime’s over.”

before the man can even react, spiderman sends out another web, this time at his wrist, effectively pinning him to the alley wall. he struggles, face twisted in anger, but spiderman just raises a gloved hand to his lips as if hushing a child. then, in the lull that follows, you remember the thick quantum mechanics textbook in your bag. without thinking, you yank it out and, in a burst of adrenaline, swing it at the man’s head. the book lands with a solid thud, and he slumps, finally, into silence.

spiderman looks at the unconscious man, then at the textbook in your hand. he lets out a low whistle. “you know, i’ve always thought textbooks were a weapon of choice, but that’s next-level dedication.” that’s when you realize just how tall he is compared to you, and you can’t help your excitement when you realize that he’s here in the flesh.

“nice hit, by the wa—”

“it’s you!” you exclaim. 

“what?” he sputters, white eyes widening almost comically. “me? oh,” then he straightens up, “yea, yea. just your friendly neighborhood spiderman. rescuing pretty girls from creeps, kinda my thing. ” he shrugs.

you continue, excitedly, “right, you’re the one on the news—” you move your hand to point at him but quickly wince, the pain of the man’s grip catching up to you. 

he doesn’t miss the movement, eyes squinting at you. “hey, we’ll have to get you home. do you trust me?”

you look at him, clutching your arm in pain, and really take a moment to check him out. he’s saved you, he’s probably six feet tall, and his ass looks fantastic in his suit. at this point, you’re looking at him with heart eyes. but you can’t exactly tell him you want him to propose, so all you utter out is a “y-yeah. my dorm’s randall.”

he doesn't waste any time. with a quick nod, he hooks an arm around your waist, pulling you close as he aims a webline up toward the buildings. “hold on tight, randall’s just a swing away,” he murmurs, his voice light but steady. his hand settles on your hip, and you can't stop the way your stomach flips at the contact.

before you can even process what’s happening, he launches the two of you into the air, the city blurring beneath your feet as you cling to him, fingers gripping the fabric of his suit for dear life. his arm stays solid around you, his grip somehow both gentle and strong. he lands lightly on the roof of your dorm, setting you down carefully like you’re something fragile. and he steps back, dusting his hands off in the most nonchalant way possible, like he didn’t just take you on the most exhilarating ride of your life.

“this is your stop,” he says, that signature, almost cocky smile playing in his voice.

“uh… yeah. thanks. for the rescue,” you manage, your voice a little shakier than you’d like. you don’t know if “thank you” is enough—it doesn’t even come close to covering what you feel.

but he just shrugs, taking a step back. “all in a day’s work,” he says. “or night’s work, i guess.” he pauses, giving you a quick once-over. “get some sleep, yeah?”

and just like that, he gives you a small, almost playful salute and vanishes, swinging off into the night as easily as he’d appeared, leaving you standing on the rooftop with your heart still racing.

back in your dorm room, you drop onto your bed, staring up at the ceiling as tonight’s events replay in your head: the alley, his voice cutting through the dark, that cocky smirk, the way he felt holding onto you as you soared over the city lights. a tiny part of you wonders if you imagined the whole thing—if maybe you’re just the victim of some wild, sleep-deprived hallucination.

but no, your arm still aches from where the creep grabbed you, and you can still feel the ghost of his hand on your waist, steady and reassuring. you bite your lip, a smile creeping onto your face despite yourself.

just before sleep finally claims you, you let out a quiet laugh, shaking your head at the absurdity of it all. “the city’s vigilante, huh?” you murmur, as if he’s somehow still listening.

the thought is wild, a bit surreal—and strangely comforting.

…

“one caffe americano!” you call out, reading the label on the cup before handing it over with a small nod. the customer takes it with a quick thanks, and you return to the counter, barely holding back a yawn. the events of last night flicker through your mind—a web-slinging hero, an alley, the lingering ache in your arm—and you shake it off. there’s no room for distractions. life as a college student means the grind never stops, especially on a morning shift right before class.

when your coworker finally arrives, you let out a quiet sigh of relief, grab your bag, and step out into the brisk morning air. the chill helps wake you up as you make your way across campus, hoping to catch up with your friends before the lecture starts. just outside the building, you spot utahime, sitting on a bench, waiting with her usual tired smile.

“hey, finally off the clock?” she asks, raising an eyebrow.

“yeah, barely,” you reply, rolling your eyes. “i’m still running on fumes from last night. you guys save me a seat?”

“of course. nanami’s already inside,” she says, gesturing toward the building.

you sigh. “you won’t believe the things that happened last night.”

she gives you a look, in the traditional utahime protective-mother-hen type way. “what happened?”

you give her the rundown of what happened, the guy (who she bristles at, gives you a slap at your hand to tell you that you should’ve told her earlier, kento would’ve been able to beat his ass if she hadn’t gotten to it first) and how spiderman saved you. “i would give him what he’s missing,” you sigh, dreamily. 

utahime looks at you in a judgmental way. “and that’s all you got from this? for fucks sake, he’s a vigilante, you don’t know if he’s started to tail you or not. pooks, he could literally be dangerous. try to convince your boss to let someone else get your night shift.” as soon as you open your mouth to protest, she cuts you off immediately. “and no, i don’t give a fuck about your people pleaser tendenci—”

“we’ll revisit this conversation later.” you give her a sweet smile as you start to speed walk, door of the lecture hall of the 9am section of phys401: intro to quantum algorithms, falling in with the usual stream of students after you hear an irritated “yea, cause i’m gonna kill you otherwise.” the familiar chatter and echo of footsteps make the day feel almost normal, grounding you as you weave through the hall.

inside, you quickly spot kento’s shining, disney prince-like blonde hair, who has saved seats for the three of you near the middle of the hall, away from the ugly, smelly grad students who always crowd the front. he gives you a quick nod as you settle down beside him, flipping open your notebook. the reliable calm on his face helps ease the lingering jitters you hadn’t realized you were carrying.

“long night?” he asks, glancing at the dark circles under your eyes.

“you could say that,” you mumble, not quite ready to get into details. instead, you wave it off. “just work assignments, and getting jumped, the usual.”

nanami breaks into a series of shocked coughs, and you hurry to pat his back as he undeniably burns his tongue on the coffee he was taking a sip of. “what?”

his rather loud exclamation sets off stares from people sitting closer to you both, so you give utahime, who lets out a quiet groan as she’s settling into her seat beside you, a knowing look. “it’s a long story, i’ll tell it to you later.”

he reluctantly settles in after that, not because he has a choice but because yaga is starting to address the class by asking about the weekend and getting his usual blank stares in return until a voice you recognize as suguru geto’s is saying something to undeniably piss him off, but you don’t register quite what it is exactly because the door opens and any attention on geto is directed to the boy with white hair and blue eyes tiredly walking into class. 

he’s about ten minutes late to the lecture, which is already weird because he’s usually about 27 seconds late, not that you keep count. but also, normally gojo is the picture of confidence and cockyness, making some of the female grad students whisper things about him that you don’t think they should be for the five year gap between them and gojo. 

but today, he looks different—messy, unkempt, with shadows under his eyes and a weird angle to his torso, the way he walks, and the way his opposite hand is subconsciously hovering around his side.

your brows knit together as he heads to an empty seat rows behind you next to geto, ignoring the stares of half the room. it’s so out of character for him that you can’t help but wonder what’s going on. you shoot utahime a knowing look, and she stifles a laugh, barely managing to keep a straight face as she watches gojo slink to his seat. nanami’s usually impassive face exchanges a look with you as well before he turns his attention back to professor yaga’s opening remarks. gojo slides into the row behind you without a word, avoiding everyone’s gaze—or so you think, until you feel it.

as you attempt to listen to professor yaga, you can’t shake the sensation of eyes boring into the back of your head. you resist the urge to turn, telling yourself it’s probably nothing… except the feeling lingers, so strong that your pulse ticks up a notch.

“okay, now that we’re all here,” yaga says in a dry tone, barely able to hide his irritation as he glances pointedly in gojo’s direction, “let’s begin with today’s lecture on grover’s.”

professor yaga taps the board, and the projector switches to a set of slides titled quantum speed-up and the grover search algorithm. he launches into his explanation, voice clipped. “grover’s algorithm provides a quadratic speed-up for unstructured search problems, a notable advantage in quantum computing. but can anyone tell me why this isn’t considered an exponential improvement?”

you raise your hand, as does nanami. a subtle shift of movement in your peripheral vision draws your eye to gojo, who’s leaning back in his chair, arms crossed. yaga’s attention lands on nanami first, and he gives a succinct answer about how grover’s algorithm yields only a quadratic speed-up in terms of computational complexity. as he answers, you swear you catch gojo watching you, again, through the corner of your eye.

determined not to let him get under your skin, you lean over to whisper to nanami. “what’s with him today?”

nanami, still watching yaga, raises a brow. “maybe he finally realized that he can’t get by without skipping class today.”

utahime snickers quietly. “doubtful. more like he thinks it’s funny to waltz in whenever he likes and still ace every test.”

“exactly.” you sigh, drumming your pen against your notebook. gojo’s rare absences don’t even seem to faze most professors. and despite his unpredictable attendance, he’s always managed to stay miles ahead. today, though, something’s… different about him. like he’s made a life changing decision in the past 48 hours.

“moving on,” yaga says, pointing to the board where the next slide materializes. “the heart of grover’s algorithm lies in its use of an amplitude amplification technique, where we iterate a search oracle along with an inversion process. pay attention—this concept of iterative improvement will become key when we start covering variational quantum algorithms.”

as yaga delves deeper into amplitude amplification, you manage to focus, jotting down notes on the necessary steps in grover’s search. yet each time you settle into the lecture, you feel gojo’s gaze pricking at you. the first time you turn around, there’s nothing there—just him slouched, seemingly absorbed in whatever he’s staring at on the ceiling. but then, you sense it again and, on your second glance, you catch his blue eyes meeting yours, and he quickly looks away.

what’s his problem? you give him a questioning look, but he’s adamantly not looking at you, trying to look nonchalant as he’s pulling out his laptop. he might look like a student taking latexing notes of what yaga’s yapping about, but the way he’s using his mouse more than he is his keyboard tells you that he’s probably on papa’s freezeria instead.

you decide that you’re going to waste your time wondering how gojo’s brain functioned, so you instead focus back on the lecture. after all, you didn’t understand any of the lecture notes you took notes on before and what it said about the diffuser in the circuit. 

“now,” yaga’s voice sharpens, pulling you back into the room, “these iterations act as amplitude amplification steps, so pay close attention—especially those of you who have a habit of being late.” his eyes slide back to gojo, who remains oblivious, leaning back with a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as the sound of his name brings him back to the lecture.

gojo doesn’t even look phased. instead, he raises a hand casually, like he’s about to ask a simple question. you can feel the anticipation ripple through the room—half the students are waiting to see if he’ll fumble, and the other half already know better.

“professor yaga,” he drawls, “don’t you think amplitude amplification is a bit of an oversimplification? the way it’s typically presented, you’d think grover’s algorithm was just… guessing with style.” he flashes an infuriatingly smug smile, drawing out the pause before continuing. “but we both know it’s more about quantum phase inversion, right? the oracle reflects about the mean state, iterating with a precision that isn’t just luck. or maybe that’s all too technical?” he leans back, feigning innocence.

the smugness in his tone makes something flare up in you, and before you can stop yourself, your hand shoots up.

“actually, gojo,” you interject, your voice louder than you intended, “calling it “guessing with style” is a very gross oversimplification. grover’s algorithm isn’t about intuition or luck. it’s about optimization. it’s not just about spotlighting a target like a rando guess, it’s more like rotating the probability in a controlled manner—with iterations—to amplify the correct solution. not just some quantum trick or guess.” you cross your arms, leaning back in your chair as you stare him down. “it’s not even that bad, compared to what we have classically.”

as soon as you spoke, it seems that the fight and mischievous look in gojo’s eyes fades, replacing it with something that shockingly looks like him being flustered as he averts your gaze, looks to the ceiling, and murmurs something like “yea, that’s basically most of quantum computing, desperately trying to prove we’re not just wasting our time” but yaga interrupts him, clearly a bit annoyed at the two know-it-alls that you and gojo were acting like. 

“now,” yaga says, shifting back to the lecture as if nothing happened (probably because he wasn’t paid enough to deal with this shit), “these iterations act as amplitude amplification steps, so pay close attention—especially those of you who have a habit of missing lectures.”

you’re just left confused as to why the conversation didn’t escalate like the typical academic rivals in movies, because you’ve definitely seen gojo bully some people who didn’t know what the fuck they were talking about instead of just blushing like some schoolgirl. regardless, you can’t help but notice the thrill that you felt, having finally argued with him, having been seen as someone worth arguing. you try to temper it as yaga continues onto the rest of the lecture.

…

“i can’t believe you’re making me go.” you tug at the hem of your white corset, paired with a matching skirt, still incredulous at how utahime managed to talk you into attending one of the infamous halloween frat parties. the night air is crisp against your exposed shoulders, and despite your complaints, you shiver more at the thought of wasting the next few hours among sweaty strangers than the actual cold.

utahime, walking beside you in a devil-red version of your outfit—complete with horns perched precariously on her head—looks far too satisfied with herself. she adjusts the horns with one hand, giving you a sidelong glance that practically drips with smugness.

“stop pouting,” she chides. “i’m not going to let you waste another night holed up in your room, buried in manhwa or quantum physics. i’m pretty sure there are cobwebs growing in your—”

“utahime,” you hiss, cutting her off with a mortified glance around.

“pussy,” she finishes, completely unbothered. “i’m going to find you a guy to hook up with. i’m not saying you have to go all the way, but flirting? kissing? maybe something more? very healthy. highly encouraged.”

your mouth falls open in protest, but before you can get a word in, she fixes you with a sharp glare, her dark eyes flashing with all the authority of a disappointed parent. “don’t even think about arguing with me. i swear, if you don’t at least try to enjoy this, i’ll make it my personal mission to find someone for you.”

“i can’t believe this,” you mutter, crossing your arms. “you’re supposed to be my friend, not my pimp.”

“oh, i’m your friend. that’s why i’m doing this. you’ll thank me when you’re sixty and not crying about how boring your college life was.”

“i’m not boring,” you counter. “i’m selective.”

“sure,” utahime drawls, clearly unconvinced. “and whatever weird sexual tension you’ve got going on with gojo doesn’t count.”

you scoff, stopping in your tracks to stare at her. “what tension? we’ve literally talked once this week. and that was the first time we had a conversation.”

she doesn’t respond, already scanning the scene ahead. the street of frat houses looms just ahead, glowing with gaudy orange lights strung up across balconies. the bass from the nearest party reverberates through the pavement underfoot. it’s already crowded, hordes of people shuffling in and out, laughing, shouting, and showcasing their half-baked halloween costumes.

you follow utahime’s gaze to the nearest house, packed with enough people to make the windows fog up. just the thought of squeezing into that humidity makes your stomach churn.

“looks crowded,” you mumble. “maybe we should—”

before you can suggest retreating, utahime grabs your wrist and practically drags you toward the house. “nope. you’re coming in. no backing out now.”

the moment you step inside, the smell hits you. sweat, stale beer, and an undercurrent of what you can only describe as frat-house musk. your nose wrinkles, and you instinctively recoil, pulling your arm free from utahime’s grasp.

“god, it smells like a gym locker in here,” you say, covering your nose.

utahime doesn’t seem fazed. she’s already scanning the room, her eyes landing on a beer pong table set up in the corner, surrounded by cheering students. “this is perfect!” she says, beaming.

“for what? contracting a fungal infection?” you mutter.

but she’s no longer listening, her focus shifting as a tall, broad-shouldered guy in a makeshift cowboy hat approaches her and then stops in front of both of you, his stare fully enthralled by utahime. “hey,” he says, a bit suavely, in the way that makes you inwardly roll your eyes because you know she’s going to eat it up. she likes it when they’re a little ugly, and this guy fits the bill. 

“hey,” and she giggles, making you have to physically fight the urge to puke, “what’s up?”

 they exchange a few words, and before you know it, she’s smiling in that way that tells you she’s found her entertainment for the night.

“go ahead,” you say dryly, waving her off. “i’ll just fend for myself.”

utahime starts to protest, but you’re already beelining for the kitchen, trying to get a drink that’s not too crazy to survive the night. it’s surprisingly less chaotic in the kitchen, though the counters are cluttered with half-empty bottles, red solo cups, and some questionable punch that looks radioactive. you scan the room, your eyes landing on a cupboard that might hold something simple—like water. a series of ding! ding! ding!’s go off in your mind as you find the pack of plastic water bottles. 

standing on your toes, you reach for the handle, but it’s just out of your grasp. you huff in frustration, shifting to get better leverage when a hand way bigger than yours suddenly appears above yours, effortlessly grabbing the item you were reaching for.

“let me get that for you.”

you turn to thank the person, the words dying on your lips when you see who it is.

gojo.

he’s standing impossibly close, his signature smirk firmly in place, but there’s something almost casual in the way he looks at you, as if this is the most normal interaction in the world. you swear you’re so close that you can see like the two open pores on his otherwise flawless skin, as his eyes inevitably drag themselves downwards to scan your outfit for the night—a shitty angel without wings and halo (you couldn’t be paid two shits to put in the effort; both of the top and skirt were utahime’s, anyways.) then, his eyes meet yours again, a bit of playfulness in them. 

“well, well,” he drawls, handing you the water bottle. “never thought i’d see you here.”

you take the bottle, trying to ignore the brush of his fingers against yours. “didn’t have much of a choice. utahime dragged me.”

his grin widens. “classic. let me guess—she’s off trying to find her soulmate at the beer pong table?”

“something like that,” you mumble, not wanting to give him the entire story. twisting the cap off the bottle,  you take a sip, hoping he’ll just leave you alone, but instead, he leans against the counter, looking entirely too comfortable.

“so,” he says, tilting his head, “i heard through the grapevine that you had a run-in with that spider-man guy this week.”

that makes you pause mid-gulp of water, instead coughing a bit as you try to swallow it down without basically drowning in kirkland signature natural spring water. you’ve only told like, three people outside of kento and iori, so you’re confused why he knows this information, but you continue on regardless. the memory of spider-man swinging in to save you flashes through your mind, and you can’t help but smile softly to yourself. “it was amazing. he’s—he’s incredible, honestly. the way he just swooped in and handled everything? so fast, so precise. he’s like a real-life superhero.”

you’re basically gushing to him, and you realize that a bit too late as you look at his face to gauge his reaction. he’s looking at you with a newfound interest, albeit a bit too conflicted to fully tease you about it when he says, “sounds like you’re smitten.”

“maybe i am,” you admit, laughing. “i mean, who wouldn’t be? he’s brave, he’s kind, and he doesn’t even stick around for the credit. it’s like he’s this selfless, untouchable figure.” you also kind of want to give him a sloppy toppy for saving you like that, but you spare gojo the details. 

“untouchable, huh?” gojo echoes, his tone turning a bit wry and…jealous? “sounds like someone’s got a crush.”

you roll your eyes, but it’s half-hearted, and you think gojo can tell with the way you’re heating up and bashfully looking at the ground. “don’t be ridiculous.”

“i’m just saying,” he continues, leaning closer, “if that’s your type, you might want to raise your standards. superheroes are overrated.”

you raise an eyebrow. “and what, you’re not?”

he grins, that infuriatingly charming grin that makes you want to simultaneously punch him and laugh. “i’m better. i’m real.” he then puts his hands on the counter behind you, caging you between them until your knees are lightly brushing, and suddenly his face is so close that small little breaths from his nose are fanning across your face. “i can prove that to you.”

and you hate your body for being so…reactive and enthusiastic to his smooth-talking, face flushing. despite that, you try to put on an air of nonchalance. “god, you’re insufferable.”

“really?” he teases. his hand leaves the marble counter to hover at your hip, his hand subconsciously tracing your curves an inch above your skin. the motion, firm but tentative as if he’s waiting for you to give him the green light, makes you shiver as you subconsciously move your hips to finally have the skin-to-skin contact. and your skin sings in happiness as he draws circles into the area right below your skirt, even momentarily dipping just below, to which you realize that he’s treading very close to your panties, since your skirt’s really short.

"yea," you basically sigh, hating yourself for how breathy your voice sounds. 

it seems to have an effect on gojo because his eyes darken as he murmurs, "wastin' your time on that spiderman guy."

maybe it's the fact that it's late (you've been getting sub four hours of sleep this past week) or the lights in this humid frat bring a heady air, but all academic-rivalry-overshadowed-woman-in-stem history between you and gojo disappears in your brain as you rake your eyes up and down his torso and then look at him through your lashes. "who should i spend my time on instead?"

he gives you a little smile as he stares down at you, eyes raking over your face, catching at your lips and then going back up again to meet yours. “i don’t know, someone who’s as smart as you,” he murmurs.

“yea?” you laugh out breathlessly. your faces are so close that in normal circumstances, you would worry about how you both looked so close together, one hand on your thigh and the other splayed on your waist. “and how would you know how smart i am?”

satoru starts, lips coming closer and closer. “because i—”

but he’s interrupted, because you both hear a “satoru” and pull apart, breathing heavily as you both turn to look at the offender standing in the entrance of the kitchen: suguru geto, gojo’s best friend, looking more tired than anything as his eyes catch on you, then going to gojo with a pointed look. it’s not hard to figure out what was going on based on how disheveled you both look, your skirt crooked and his shirt crumbled, and your cheeks heat. before you can say anything, however, suguru sighs and says to gojo, “there’s a burglary happening nearby.” then, he turns but not before giving you a nod. “make sure to stay safe.”

he promptly leaves, leaving you confused standing there. was this such an emergency worth noting that he interrupted his best friend?

you try to seek the answer in gojo’s face, but he has this conflicted, annoyed countenance and you suddenly feel kinda of insecure because he’s raking his hand through his hair, staring painfully at the ceiling then at you. at the same time you utter out a “uh–” he says “i have to go.”

“oh.” you blink. a why brews on top of your tongue, but you temper it, reminding yourself that you’re not close to gojo like that. needless to say, you feel a little embarrassed as you watch him jog out of the kitchen with a little wave to you. you want to overanalyze gojo’s last look to you, the one that looked a bit like disappointment and yearning, but you shake it off, staring at the 16.9 oz plastic water bottle in your hand that you forgot about.

taking a sip, you cringe as you become more aware of your surroundings and the state you’re left in because of gojo. that your panties are a bit more sticky—you reach under your skirt to adjust them so they don’t stick to your crotch so much—and you’re hot all over. 

then reality comes crashing back. what the hell did you and gojo just do right now?

you groan out loud, banging your head against the fridge, but as you reel back, in your peripheral you see  someone there. your head shoots to see the guy who’s now looking at you with a weird expression as he undeniably waits for whatever freaking out you were doing to gain access to the fridge. 

“sorry,” you blurt out, and gather yourself to beeline for the exit. god, you needed to find utahime.

…

the soft hum of a tv in the corner of satoru’s apartment provided the only sound, save for the faint rustle of suguru flipping through a textbook. the remnants of takeout—boxes of half-eaten pad thai and a pile of discarded chopsticks—littered the coffee table between them. satoru leaned back on the couch, legs stretched out, staring at the ceiling like it held answers he hadn’t thought to ask yet. he held a small foam ball, tossing it up and catching it over and over. his mind, however, wasn’t focused on the ball but on you.

it was starting to feel like an obsession. he’d always been able to compartmentalize things—his studies, his friends, his other responsibilities. but you? you’d broken through the usual barriers in his head, wedging yourself firmly into every free thought he had.

“do you think she likes me?” he asked suddenly, breaking the quiet.

suguru glanced up from his book, his expression unreadable. “who, starbucks girl?”

satoru scoffed. “she’s not starbucks girl. she’s…” he trailed off, tapping his fingers against his knee. your name lingered on his tongue, oddly weighty in a way that felt almost unfamiliar.

suguru smirked. “oh, she’s got a name now? progress.”

“shut up.”

but he couldn’t shut his mind off, not when you kept taking up space in it. it wasn’t just that he’d noticed you now—really noticed you, for the first time. it was more than that.

satoru had always known who you were. you weren’t exactly easy to miss. in a program full of ugly guys who didn’t shower and loud personalities, you had carved out your niche by being the cold, unreachable one. the one who didn’t bother with group projects unless she had to, who barely engaged in conversations beyond what was strictly necessary. other guys in the program talked about you, of course. they always did.

“frigid,” they called you. “too serious. probably thinks she’s better than us.”

they weren’t entirely wrong. you were better than most of them, but not for the reasons they assumed. satoru had read your work��papers that brimmed with insights that most of their half-baked theories could only dream of. he could tell you put in the effort in your classes and research, while all the guys left shit-talking had to rely on their grad student mentors to be able to write a legible paper. for fucks sake, he doesn’t even thing anyone could code in qiskit or cirq like you could; he had skimmed your notes once, left them behind after a lecture, and found them meticulous and sharp before he turned them into the professor to return to you.

and yet, despite the brilliance you carried with you, you had never given him a second glance.

that day at starbucks, though.

satoru rolled his head to the side, gaze drifting toward the window. he hadn’t expected to see anyone at five in the morning, let alone you. he’d been desperate for answers then—he had spent his night staring at his hands, which had seemed to keep ejecting spider-like webs after he’d been horribly sick. he knew he shouldn’t have gone fooling around in new york’s subway tunnels at 3am with suguru and shoko, but after a seemingly-harmless spider had bit him, he had been reeling from the discovery of his newfound powers and grappling with the weight of what they meant ever since. 

and there you were, unlocking the starbucks, bleary-eyed but no less composed.

you’d handed him his coffee, not interested in him the entire time, and he remembered blurting something out—something ridiculous about fate or responsibility, his usual bravado faltering in the quiet of the moment. he had been spiraling, unsure of who he was anymore, and you’d said something.

what was it again?

“it doesn’t have to be ‘more’ all the time. sometimes just showing up is enough.”

the words had stayed with him, carved deep into the corners of his mind. you didn’t know it, but they had pulled him back from the edge that day. since then, he’d started noticing you in ways he hadn’t before.

the way you brushed your hair behind your ear when you were deep in thought. the furrow of your brow when you argued as respectfully as you could with a professor (gojo knew you were holding back, though, and the thought always made him smile to himself because if he wasn’t an idgafer he would be incensed like you at the idiotic teacher). the smile—rare, fleeting, but utterly disarming—that occasionally lit up your face when you talked to utahime or that guy you were too friendly around, nanami.

“you’re doing that thing again,” suguru said, snapping him out of his thoughts.

“what thing?” satoru asked, sitting up straighter.

“brooding. you’re thinking about her, aren’t you?”

“no.”

suguru arched an eyebrow. “you’re a terrible liar.”

satoru sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “fine. maybe i am. but it’s complicated.”

“how is it complicated?”

“she doesn’t like me,” satoru said, shrugging. “at least, not as me. she likes spider-man.”

suguru blinked, clearly unimpressed. “you’re being stupid bro.”

“i’m not being stupid,” satoru argued. “she thinks spider-man’s this amazing, selfless hero. she doesn’t know i’m just some guy who can’t even figure out how to flirt with her without making an ass of himself.”

suguru leaned back in his chair, regarding satoru with an almost pitying look. “so let me get this straight. you’re worried that she only likes spider-man, even though spider-man is you. like it’s some kind of split personality thing?”

“well, when you put it like that—”

“it sounds dumb,” suguru finished. “because it is dumb.”

satoru glared at him, but suguru only shrugged.  but how could he not think about you? even now, the memory of your voice—calm, steady, and unexpectedly warm—echoed in his head. you had this way of looking at him, like you were peeling back layers he didn’t even know he had. and that smile... he groaned inwardly. he wasn’t supposed to be so drawn to you, wasn’t supposed to imagine what it’d feel like to have you smile at him like that all the time.

“look,” suguru continued, “if you like her, shoot your shot. you’re already overthinking this, and you haven’t even done anything yet. what’s the worst that could happen? she says no?”

“or she laughs in my face,” satoru muttered.

“which would be deserved, honestly,” suguru said, smirking. “but seriously, you’ve got nothing to lose. and everything to gain.”

satoru didn’t respond, his gaze fixed on the takeout boxes on the table. he wanted to believe suguru was right, but there was a small, stubborn part of him that wasn’t so sure.

because it wasn’t just about rejection, or even whether you liked him as satoru or spider-man. it was about what came after. if he let you in and something happened to you—if his double life brought danger to your doorstep—he wasn’t sure he’d ever forgive himself.

but then there was suguru’s voice in his head, steady and persistent: you’ve got nothing to lose. and everything to gain.

…

amidst a week of endless projects upon projects and other miscellaneous assignments from your research group partners (since the grad students loved to pile their work on top of you, the helpless undergrad), you find yourself nursing a hot chocolate while on top of your dormitory building’s roof. 

you find sanctuary, coming on here for time to yourself whenever you find yourself stuck in a busy week. quiet, solitary, with a view of the city lights flickering like scattered fireflies. you hugged your cardigan tighter around your shoulders as you stepped onto the roof, your laptop tucked under one arm, a mug of tea precariously balanced in the other hand. the air was crisp, biting just enough to sting your cheeks.

setting your mug down on the ledge, you perched beside it, pulling up your knees and balancing the laptop precariously as you typed. the words on the screen blurred after a while, blending into the chaos in your mind. frustrated, you closed it with a snap and leaned your head back to gaze at the stars.

“rough night?”

you startled, spinning your head around so fast your tea nearly toppled. but you can’t find anyone, just the sound of soft footsteps landing somewhere not visible to you. 

“you scared the hell out of me,” you sighed, clutching your chest.

“sorry,” he said, though his tone didn’t sound all that apologetic. “didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“then maybe don’t sneak up on people like that,” you muttered, still trying to calm your racing heart.

he chuckled, and the sound was warmer than you’d expected. “noted. so, what’s got you out here at three in the morning? don’t tell me you’re pulling an all-nighter.”

you sighed, the initial shock fading into a dull thrum of shyness. “it’s not an all-nighter if the night isn’t over yet.” then, you squint at a random spot, pretending it’s him. “besides, why are you here? shouldn’t you be out stopping robberies or saving cats from trees?”

“done and done,” he said, crossing his arms as he leaned against the ledge. “now i’m just enjoying the view.”

you turned your gaze back to the skyline, hoping the darkness hid the faint heat creeping up your neck. “so, what’s a guy like you doing on a random rooftop at three in the morning?”

“could ask you the same thing,” he countered.

you hesitated. for some reason, admitting the truth to him felt easier than admitting it to anyone else. “just…needed a break.”

“from?”

“everything,” you said, exhaling slowly. “classes. expectations. people.” you paused, then added with a faint smile, “not you, though. you’re an exception.”

“oh?” his voice lightened, carrying a hint of playful intrigue. “should i feel honored?”

“maybe,” you said. “it’s not every day you get to meet a real hero.” then, “okay, but why do you always hide in the dark?”

his voice is smug, meant to be playful. “it adds to the mystique?”

you pout. “what if i call the police?”

“it’s not like the cops can catch me anyways, baby. their shitty coffee and donut filled asses aren’t enough to keep up with me.”

you really try not to flush when he calls you that pet name. “is success getting to you?”

“what success? most i hear is everyone debating whether or not i should be experimented on.”

“really?” you teased. “that’s not what i saw on my for you page last time. there are girls out there who want you to sign their tits after you rescued that baby.”

then, you hear the soft thud of nimble feet dropping onto the ceiling and turn your head to see him in all his glory. he has a muscular figure highlighted in his white suit, blue and black lines traveling their way across his body. casually, he stretches and then drops down to the floor, sitting cross legged from across from you as if joining you in a regular gossip sesh. he puts his elbow on his knee and rests his head on his hand. “are you one of those girls?”

you laugh sheepishly, turning away as heat creeps up your face again and your heart hammers, because you can’t exactly tell him that, yes you’re absolutely enamored with him after he saved you that day and yes, you do indeed want him to sign your tits.

“you should do that more,” he said.

“what?” you look back at him, wide eyed in confusion. 

“laugh.”

the way he said it, low and almost reverent, made your cheeks heat. you busy yourself with toying with your cardigan, scooting yourself away from the edge and closer to him. “and you should stop being such a flirt,” you said, though there was no bite in your voice.

“can’t help it,” he said, leaning closer. “it’s kind of my thing.”

“is that right?”

“mm-hmm.” he paused, then added, “you know, there’s something i’ve been meaning to ask you.”

“what?” you asked, arching an eyebrow.

“take my mask off.”

the words hit you like a gut punch, dissolving the playfulness that had filled the air seconds ago. you blinked up at him, searching his face—or at least what you could see of it—for any sign that this was some elaborate joke. but there was no hint of humor, no smirk tugging at his lips. he meant it.

your fingers hovered at your sides, hesitant. “are you sure?” the question came out soft, barely audible, but it felt like it echoed in the quiet night.

“never been more sure of anything,” he murmured, voice low and steady.

you swallowed hard, your heart hammering in your chest. slowly, almost against your better judgment, you reached up, fingertips brushing the edge of his mask. the fabric felt smooth, warm under your touch, but your nerves were anything but.

with a deep breath, you peeled it back. bit by bit, his face came into view—a shock of white hair, impossibly sharp features, and finally, those eyes. those unmistakable, infuriatingly familiar blue eyes. your breath caught, and for a moment, the world tilted sideways.

“gojo?”

the name fell from your lips before you could stop it, unsteady and disbelieving. your mind raced, trying to piece together the impossible puzzle that had just landed in front of you.

he grinned—that grin, the one that always made you want to slap it off his face and yet somehow managed to disarm you every single time. “hey.”

“hey?” your voice cracked as you took a step back. “that’s all you have to say? hey?”

“would you prefer, ‘surprise’?” he quipped, his grin widening as though this was the most normal thing in the world.

you laughed, the sound a little hysterical but real, like you couldn’t contain the storm of emotions rushing through you. “surprised? you’ve been… you’ve been spider-man this whole time?” the words felt foreign on your tongue, like they didn’t belong in the same sentence as gojo satoru—the one you’d argued with in class, the one who had no problem making you want to tear your hair out. and yet here he was, standing in front of you, the last person you ever would have suspected to be the city’s most infamous masked hero.

gojo gave you that crooked grin, the same one he wore when he thought he had won—when he thought he had it all figured out. “i know. it’s a lot to take in.”

you stared at him, trying to make sense of it, but no amount of logic could bridge the gap between the gojo you knew—the guy who drove you up the wall in class and always had a cocky comeback—and the masked hero who had saved you and the one you had a crush on.

you didn’t know whether to scream, laugh, or cry. 

you take a shaky breath in, still trying to process everything. “you... you saved me, gojo. you’ve been right there, all these times, and i had no idea it was you.”

“guess i’m just that good at keeping secrets,” he said, his tone playful, but there was something more there, something softer, that you couldn’t quite put your finger on. his eyes held a flicker of something—maybe vulnerability, maybe uncertainty.

the weight of the moment hung thick in the air between you, and for a long second, you didn’t know what to say. this revelation was like the ground beneath you had cracked wide open, and you were left staring into an abyss that was both terrifying and exhilarating.

finally, you shook your head, letting out a short breath. “this is insane.”

he didn’t seem bothered by your reaction, though his eyes darkened just slightly, the smirk still there, but with something a little more honest creeping into his expression. “yeah. but you’re handling it better than i thought. kinda thought you would faint, or something.”

the world had shifted, but somehow, with gojo now sitting in front of you like this, with the mask off and the man behind the myth revealed, it felt like the pieces were finally starting to fall into place. even if they didn’t make perfect sense yet.

and yet, something about his presence—his undeniable realness—felt oddly grounding. he wasn’t the invincible spider-man anymore. he was just gojo. the gojo who had somehow become more than just your academic rival, and maybe, just maybe, a little bit more than that.

something in gojo’s facial expression shifted to something a bit more hesitant, a little nervous as he stands and extend his arm out to you. softly, he asks, “do you trust me?”

“yes.” you took his hand, standing up as he flashes you a charming, yet mischievous grin, one so shit eating that you regret saying that. “why?”

“i’m taking you for a ride. consider it an apology for freaking you out earlier.”

you hesitated, looking between his outstretched hand and the city skyline just beyond your college campus. “i don’t think this is a good idea—”

“you trust me, don’t you?”

and somehow, against all logic, you realized that you did.

“fine,” you said, stepping closer to him to cling onto him. 

he pulls you closer, and as he does so, he cranes his neck down to meet your eyes, smiling giddy. “anywhere you wanna go?”

you think for a moment, but know immediately the place where you’d like to visit that’s open at this ungodly hour. “do you know that one shawarma joint—-”

before you can even finish, the wind whips around you as gojo slips his mask back on, pulls you closer to him, and uses his free hand—that is, the one that’s not clinging onto your firmly—to shoot a glistening web, one that you saw when he used it on the man who harassed you in the ally. it clings onto a nearby building, and then you’re off the ground, soaring through the air.

you let out a scream of terror against gojo’s chest, tightening your arms around him. you can feel a laugh rumble in his chest, a boyish chuckle as he peers down at you and shouts, “are you having fun?” 

“gojo,” you whine, burying your head into his chest further. despite your initial fear, exhilaration creeps its way into you as you the city blur, skyline jumping and dipping as gojo effortlessly swung you both around. 

when he finally stopped, landing gracefully on a secluded rooftop, you were breathless—not just from the ride but from the way he was looking at you.

“you good?” he laughed, panting from the exertion and tenderly using his hand to rake his hand through your  hair, which, you note out of embarrassment, must’ve been messed up from the wind passing through it.

“i hate that you made me dizzy, but yea, i’m good,” you mumble, pulling out your phone to open your camera, fixing your hair.

when you’re done, gojo looks at you with the manic buzz you can only have at 3am. “ready to get some shawarma?”

…

the streets were eerily quiet, the kind of silence only a city at 3am could have. just the two of you, your footsteps echoing against the pavement, the occasional glow of a streetlamp painting your path.

“okay, that shawarma was like, mid at best,” gojo walks alongside you. he’s thrown on a sweatshirt and gray sweatpants over his suit, walking alongside you on the street. your stomachs are full, and you suggested a walk to be able to digest the bigass bowl you both ate.

“nothing tastes better than something you’re eating when you’re supposed to be studying, instead,” you shot back, hiding your little smile as you cross your arms while strolling. the shift between you and gojo was so jarring that you’re still reeling at it, but what is 3am if not for big life changes?

“yea, that’s fair,” he sighs, crossing his hands behind his head as he continues strolling beside you.  “so,” he continues, “now that i’ve officially blown your mind with my secret identity and fed you some incredibly mid shawarma, what’s next? should i fly you to paris, or is that too cliché?”

you roll your eyes, but deep inside, you’re really biting back a grin. “relax, bugboy. maybe first let me recover from being swung like a human pendulum.”

gojo stopped walking, turning to face you with a playful glint in his eye. “you’re still thinking about that, huh? admit it—you loved it.”

you raised an eyebrow. “i screamed into your chest for a solid ten seconds. does that sound like love to you?”

he tilted his head, feigning deep thought. “i dunno. there’s a fine line between terror and thrill. and judging by how tightly you were holding onto me…”

“you’re insufferable,” you muttered, but your voice lacked bite.

“and yet, you’re still here.”

his words hung in the air, the playful edge softening into something quieter, more sincere. your steps faltered, and you looked up at him, the absurdity of the night fading into the background as your gaze held his.

“guess i’m curious,” you admitted.

“curious, huh?” he said, taking a step closer. “careful. curiosity killed the cat.”

without thinking, you blurted, “at least i’ve got a fifty-fifty shot, right?” the words barely left your mouth before the regret hit, your inner voice screaming at you for making a lame quantum mechanics joke at a time like this. schrödinger would be proud, you thought bitterly.

but then gojo laughed—not the teasing, obnoxious kind of laugh or the weird look you’d expect, but a genuine, boyish chuckle that reached his eyes. he smiled at you, soft and unguarded, and suddenly, the space between you seemed to shrink.

the flickering streetlamp cast a warm, uneven glow over the two of you. in that moment, the sprawling city felt impossibly small, narrowed down to just him and the pounding of your heart in your ears.

gojo reached up, fingers brushing a stray strand of hair away from your face. “you know,” he murmured, his voice low, “i’ve been wanting to do this for a while now.”

your breath hitched, heart thundering in your chest. “do what?”

“this.”

before you could respond, he closed the space between you, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that was somehow both soft, yet electrifying. for a moment, time seemed to stop, the city around you fading into nothing as the warmth of his touch anchored you in the moment.

when he finally pulled back, his grin was back in full force. “so, was that better or worse than shawarma?”

you blinked at him, still trying to find your footing in the aftermath of what just happened. an immediate feeling of bashfulness crept over you because not only did you just kiss spiderman, you just kissed gojo. there are girls who would kill to be in your position, and that makes you flustered as you turn your head away from him so you don’t have to make eye contact. “i hate you,” you mumble half heartedly, cheeks burning.

gojo doesn’t let you off so easily. his thumb brushes gently along your chin, coaxing your face back toward his. his touch is warm, deliberate, and it sends a shiver down your spine.

“oh my god,” he says, a grin spreading across his face. “are you embarrassed? you’re so cute.”

when the warmth of his hand leaves your chin, you open your eyes, shocked as you find out that he’s nowhere to be seen. you call out a tentative, “gojo?” 

somewhere behind you, to the left, comes out a muffled shout. “i’m here!” you whip around, your brows furrowing as you follow the direction of his voice. it’s coming from an alley just off the street, dark and bathed in shadows.

“seriously?” you mutter under your breath, your annoyance half-hearted, making your way toward the sound. you find yourself at the mouth of the alley, the dim glow of a distant lamp barely illuminating his silhouette.

gojo’s perched on the side of the wall like it’s the most natural thing in the world, one leg propped up, his mask pulled halfway up to reveal that damn smirk. “you’re slow,” he teases, his tone light and infuriatingly smug.

“what are you doing?” you ask, crossing your arms.

he gestures toward himself. “you came looking for me, didn’t you?”

you roll your eyes, stepping closer despite yourself. “what, did you think i’d just leave you lurking in some alley like a creepy insect?”

“well,” he says, shooting a web to stick on the bottom of some stairs of one of the buildings to hang upside down, “you could’ve left, but i had a feeling you wouldn’t.”

before you could retort, he shoots his web closer to something on top of you, now dangling upside down yet again but his proximity even closer, stealing the air from your lungs. his fingers brush a strand of hair from your face, lingering just long enough to make your knees feel unsteady.

“so,” he murmurs, his voice low and teasing, “are we doing this again, or are you gonna keep pretending you hate me?”

your heart stutters, but before you can overthink it, you pull his mask down even further to uncover more of his lips, and you join them together—this time, softer, slower, as if savoring the moment. you grab at his chin to pull him closer to you, you both sighing into the kiss, and then smiling giddily each time you pull back, only to come back in.

and just like that, you start to fall into…something with not only the vigilante that’s swinging around new york, but also gojo satoru, your long-time rival.

…

when satoru swings by your dorm next, he doesn’t expect his heart to lurch so much at the view of you so cozy.

it’s undeniable; you and satoru have been dancing around each other. you’re not exactly a hook-up to each other—you two haven’t had sex—but you’re not exactly girlfriend and boyfriend. and it’s not something casual, either. he doesn’t reveal that he’s spiderman just to get into girls’ pants. 

you’ve both developed a sort of rapport, he supposes. it’s been stolen glances during phys401 and late nights spent talking or, occasionally, making out. you’ve even started to nurse his wounds, if he ever shows up with bruises and blood matting his suit. one of the perks of you having a single. 

he’s even fallen asleep overnight, especially on friday nights when he doesn’t have lecture in the morning. some of his things, like some spare equipment and suits, have even found their way into your closet. 

you’re both on a dangerous roller coaster, and satoru is closing his eyes on the fall down. 

but right now, he’s perched outside your window like a creep. you’re sitting on your bed, cross-legged and squinting at something on your laptop, and satoru smiles to himself as he sees your tank top and shorts and just how homey you look. you probably know satoru is coming, but you’re so comfortable around him that it makes his heart ache. he shouldn’t be doing this, but he can’t stop.

satoru lightly taps on your window, his knuckle brushing against the glass softly, not wanting to startle you. you glance up, catching sight of him, and there’s no hiding the smile tugging at your lips.

you get up, and satoru follows the movement of your bare legs with his eyes as you slide the window open. “you know, most people knock on doors like normal humans,” you say.

“i like to keep things interesting,” he shoots back, climbing in effortlessly. the faint chill from the night clings to him, and his hair is slightly disheveled from the wind.

he glances around your room, catching sight of your scattered notes and the distinct look of frustration etched across your face. “what’s got you looking so miserable?”

“phys401,” you reply with a resigned sigh, flopping back onto your bed. “this problem set is impossible.”

satoru smirks, peeling off his gloves and mask and plopping down beside you. “let me see.”

acquiescing, you hand over your notebook, watching as he scans your work with intent, eyebrows scrunching as he tries to understand the statement to prove. he makes a few thoughtful noises, before grabbing a pen and scribbling something down. “here,” he says after a moment, “you’re overcomplicating this step. instead of doing the tensor product you did, you could just make this zero by taking an inner product, since they’re orthogonal states. the rest will fall into place.”

you squint at his messy, rushed handwriting, and sure enough, the proof seems to come together. “how are you so good at this?” 

“physics prodigy, remember?” he teases, leaning back on his hands as he lays down on your bed.

“thanks for the help,” you say softly, your eyes lingering on him a beat too long. he’s kind of dreamy, you think. the moonlight filters across your window, giving his platinum hair a sheen as his cerulean eyes look into yours with kindness. 

his smirk fades, replaced by something softer, something unspoken. “anytime.” he then makes a show of stretching out his limbs, purposely bumping into you with one eye open smugly to observe your reaction, to which you glare at him. he spots your notebook, picks it up, and flips through it. “you know, for someone who complains so much about phys401, you’re not half bad at it,” he teases, scribbling something in the margin of your notes by grabbing a stray pen next to him.  

you roll your eyes, shifting so you’re cross-legged on the bed, facing him. “not all of us are physics prodigies, satoru. some of us actually have to work hard.”  

he chuckles, handing the notebook back to you. “hard work is overrated when you can just charm your way through everything.”  

you snort and joke, “if charm was all it took, i’d have aced the midterm.”  

there’s a beat of silence as you glance down at his notes. he’s corrected a mistake you hadn’t even noticed, and his scrawled proof flows so effortlessly it makes you a little envious. “how do you do that?” you ask, more to yourself than him.  

“do what?”  

“make it look so… easy,” you say, frowning slightly. “everything. physics, life, swinging through the city.”  

satoru leans back on his palms, his smirk softening. “trust me, it’s not as easy as it looks.”  

you glance up at him, surprised by the honesty in his tone. “what do you mean?”  

he shrugs, but there’s something vulnerable in the way his gaze flickers away from yours. “i mean, everyone sees the guy with the jokes and the perfect test scores, but no one sees the late nights or the bruises.” he gestures vaguely to his chest, where you know the bruises from his spider-man escapades hide. “guess i’m just good at pretending.”  

you sit with his words, the weight of them settling between you. “you don’t have to pretend with me, you know,” you say softly.  

his eyes meet yours, and for a moment, the mask—the real one—drops. “i know,” he says, just as softly.  

the air between you feels heavier, like the world has shrunk to just the two of you. you’re hyper-aware of how close he is, the faint smell of the night clinging to him, the way his knee brushes against yours.  

“thanks,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. “for letting me be here. for…” he trails off, his gaze dropping to your lips before flicking back up.  

your breath catches. “satoru…”  

“yeah?” he says, leaning in slightly, his voice lower now.  

“i…” you trail off, not even sure what you were going to say.  

he leans closer, and it feels like everything around you stills. his hand finds its way to your face, his thumb brushing your cheek. “can i?” he asks, his voice barely audible.  

you nod, and then his lips are on yours.  

the kiss starts tentative, almost shy, but it doesn’t stay that way for long. it deepens, his hand sliding to your waist as you pull him closer. the tension that had been building for weeks—months, maybe—finally snaps, leaving nothing but heat and want in its wake.  

his weight presses you back into the bed, and you can feel his heart racing against yours as he pins you to the bed, now on top of you. his hand slips under the hem of your shirt, warm against your skin, and as his thumb traces shapes into your circle and closer to more sensitive areas, a sigh escapes you.  

that’s when he freezes.  

he pulls back, his breathing uneven, his eyes wide and filled with something like fear. “we can’t,” he says, his voice hoarse.  

your heart drops into your chest.

“why not?” you ask, trying to catch your breath.  

“because,” he says, sitting up and running a hand through his hair and he’s heaving. “because i’m spider-man, and you—” he breaks off, looking anywhere but at you. “you deserve better than this. better than me.”  

you sit up, pulling your shirt back into place and looking at him, hurt. “that’s not your call to make, satoru.”  

“i’m trying to protect you!” he says, his voice rising in agitation. he sits back onto his heels, raking a hand through his hair as he looks at the ceiling, as if in pain.

you can’t believe him. his self-righteousness irritates you to no end, especially after you’ve bared your soul, and now your body to him, something you considered intimate. you feel conflicted—whatever you had, it didn’t have a label. but that didn’t mean that you didn’t want that to be true. badly.

“and who asked you to?” you snap back. “i’m not some damsel in distress who needs saving.”  

“i know that,” he says, his tone softening. “but if something happened to you because of me…” he shakes his head. “i couldn’t live with that.” ��

the anger bubbling in your chest boils over, and you snap. “so what? you’re just going to walk away? after everything?”  

he stands, his expression pained. “i’m sorry,” he says, heading for the window.  

“don’t you dare apologize,” you say, your voice trembling as you stand by the foot of your bed, hating how your eyes brim with tears. “if you leave, don’t bother coming back.”  

he pauses, his hand on the window frame, before glancing back at you. “i’m sorry,” he says again, softer this time, before slipping out into the night.  

the window clicks shut behind him, and you’re left alone in the silence, the ache in your chest threatening to swallow you whole. 

…

the whir of the espresso machine and the gentle hum of background music fill the mostly empty starbucks, the occasional customer wandering in like clockwork. it’s a quiet shift, the kind you’d usually relish—except today, the quiet only makes the knot in your chest tighten.

you’re stationed behind the counter, staring blankly at the milk steamer as it hisses, lost in your thoughts. that is, until utahime’s voice breaks through.

“alright, spill,” she says, leaning her elbows on the counter beside you.

you glance at her, eyebrows raised. “spill what?”

utahime rolls her eyes, brushing a strand of her hair behind her ear. “oh, please. you look like someone stole your favorite pen and broke it in half. what’s going on?”

“nothing,” you lie, turning back to the steamer. “i’m fine.”

utahime’s skeptical gaze bores into you. “you’re a terrible liar. nanami, back me up.”

from his spot at a nearby table, nanami looks up from his book, his sharp eyes narrowing as they lock onto you. “it’s boy trouble,” he says flatly, like he’s solving an equation.

your head snaps toward him, a glare already forming. “excuse me?”

“it’s obvious,” he says, setting his book down and regarding you with his usual piercing gaze. “you’re distracted, you look upset—it’s boy trouble.”

utahime perks up, leaning closer. “wait, is he right? is this about a guy?”

you let out a groan, leaning your elbows on the counter. “can you two not gang up on me right now?”

“so it is a guy,” utahime says, her tone turning smug.

“i didn’t say that,” you retort, but the heat in your cheeks betrays you.

nanami raises an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed with your deflection. “you might as well just tell us. it’s not like we’re going to let it go.”

you sigh, running a hand through your hair. “fine. it’s… someone i liked. someone i thought liked me too. but he freaked out and said it was too…dangerous to keep going.”

utahime frowns, her curiosity replaced by concern while kento snorts. “dangerous? what does that even mean?”

“that’s what i’d like to know,” you say bitterly, the frustration bubbling up as you speak. “he acts like he cares, but the second things get serious, he bolts. like i’m some fragile thing that can’t handle it.”

nanami leans back in his chair, his expression thoughtful. “he might not be scared of you. he could be scared of what it means for him. of responsibility and commitment. some people run when they feel too much.”

utahime nods, her hand resting gently on your arm. “whatever his problem is, it’s not fair to you. if he can’t get it together, that’s on him, not you.”

you glance between them, the weight of their words settling in your chest. “i know that,” you say quietly. “it just… sucks.”

“of course it does,” utahime says, her voice soft but firm. “but you’re not the problem here. don’t let him make you think you are.”

nanami picks up his book again but pauses before opening it. “and don’t let him live rent-free in your head. if he can’t see what he’s giving up, that’s his loss.”

their support feels grounding, like a steady hand in the middle of a storm. you manage a small smile, nodding. “thanks, guys.”

“anytime,” utahime says, flashing you a reassuring grin. nanami simply nods, returning to his book but keeping an eye on you like always. for the first time all week since gojo left your room, the heaviness in your chest feels a little lighter.

…

the knock at your window is faint, almost timid, but it jolts you out of your daze. you sit up in bed, your heart pounding as your eyes dart toward the window. it’s late—so late it’s early—and for a moment, you think you imagined it. you hate to admit it, but because of your boy troubles you haven’t been able to sleep all week. you’re also no stranger to imagining ants crawling up your body or phantom noises, so you adjust in your bed, trying to go back to sleep.

then it comes again, a little louder this time.

you throw off the blanket and pad over, the chill of the floor biting at your bare feet. when you pull the curtain aside, your breath catches.

satoru.

he’s crouched outside, his suit torn in places and soaked with blood. his head lolls slightly, like he’s barely holding himself up, and when he lifts his gaze to meet yours, it’s tired and pleading.

you don’t think—there’s no time for that. you unlatch the window and shove it open, reaching out to help him inside. “satoru, oh my god,” you breathe, your voice shaking.

“hey,” he mutters, his grin weak but still so unmistakably him. “sorry for the mess.”

“shut up,” you snap, guiding him onto your bed and setting him down with gentle hands, ones that contrast your tone with him. “what the hell happened?”

“nothing i couldn’t handle,” he says, wincing as he tries to sit up straighter and flashes you a sheepish smile. “you should see the other guy.”

“you’re bleeding everywhere, satoru. you clearly didn’t handle it.” you grab your first aid kit from under the bed and yank it open, your hands trembling.

“i’ve had worse,” he murmurs, but his bravado is thin, cracking at the edges.

“stop talking,” you say, your voice trembling and cracking. “just—just stop.”

for once, you thank the gods that he listens.

you work quickly, cutting away the shredded fabric of his suit and cleaning the worst of the wounds. it’s not pretty—his torso is littered with bruises and gashes, the kind that make your stomach turn—but you keep your focus.

when you press a disinfectant-soaked pad to a particularly deep cut, he hisses, his hand flying to grab your wrist.

“sorry,” you whisper, glancing up at him with a tender look in your eyes. his expression matches yours, and your faces are so close to each other that you can’t bear it anymore, going back to your work.

his fingers loosen but don’t let go, his grip warm and grounding. “you’re good at this,” he says softly, his voice rough.

“yeah, well,” you mutter, ducking your head to avoid his gaze. “you’ve given me plenty of practice.”

the silence stretches as you finish bandaging him up. when you’re done, you sit back, your hands still trembling as you place them in your lap. “you’re an idiot,” you say, the words tumbling out before you can stop them.

he laughs, soft and hoarse. “yeah. i get that a lot from this girl i know.”

you look up at him, and the weight of everything—his injuries, his secret, the distance he tried to put between you—crashes over you. “you can’t keep doing this, satoru. you can’t keep pushing me away just to show up like this.”

his smile fades, replaced by something raw and unguarded. “i know,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. “i know, but…”

“but what?” you demand, your voice cracking. “you’re spider-man? you think that’s an excuse to keep shutting me out?”

“it’s not an excuse,” he says, running a hand through his messy hair, matted with even more blood. his or someone else’s, you’re not sure. “it’s a reason. i don’t want you to get hurt because of me.”

“you think i’m not already hurting?” you snap, the anger bubbling to the surface yet again. “you think it doesn’t kill me to see you like this and know i can’t do anything to stop it?”

his eyes widen, and for a moment, he looks like a little boy, lost and unsure. it is then that it hits you that he’s just twenty. a college student, not someone who’s wanted by the cia or someone who’s battled terrorists. for fucks sake, he can’t even legally drink. 

and your heart can’t help but melt as he says, “i just… i don’t want to lose you.”

“then stop trying to,” you say, your voice softer now. “stop pretending like you’re protecting me by keeping me at arm’s length. let me in, satoru.”

he stares at you, his breath hitching like he’s holding back a thousand words. then, in a rush, he closes the distance between you, his hands cradling your face as he presses his forehead to yours.

“i’m sorry,” he whispers, his voice breaking. “i’m so sorry.”

you exhale shakily, your hands finding their way to his wrists. “just stop being an idiot, okay? stop trying to do this alone.”

he nods, his grip tightening like he’s afraid you’ll slip away. “i promise,” he says, and for the first time, you believe him.

…

a cramp gripping satoru’s entire leg is what wakes him up. 

he winces in memory of the injury; one of those stupid terrorists had too good of an aim, grazing his leg while he was mid-air. it hurts like a bitch now, and he moves to lay on his back, until something stops him. roses.

he looks, bleary eyed, to you. the floral scent coming from you, making him dizzy. his body cocooning yours. 

you both unconsciously moved in your sleep so that you were spooning, your fragrant hair, soft from shampooing, tickling his throat with your ass in his crotch.

nestled right against his morning wood.

good fucking lord, he groans to himself, then starts to panic because if you wake up and realize he had a raging hard-on while you were sleeping, you would definitely think he was a creep. he’s already on thin fucking ice. so naturally, he starts to recite the star spangled banner while trying to will his boner away.

oh, say can you see—

to no avail, because you huff softly in your sleep, soft and warm body unconsciously leaning back to grind your ass against his lap, turning his dick to steel.

“oh, fuck,” he curses out loud, using his hand to cover the lower half of his face and clench his eyes shut. you feel so sweet, innocently adjusting while he can’t even control his lust for you.

but once the grind seems to continue for a bit too long, more than what can be chalked up as adjusting in your sleep, he peers down at you. you’re awake. 

and because satoru’s selfish, his hands creep up your tank top, settling on your bare stomach, where he knew you were ticklish. as a result, you wiggle, and he uses this opportunity to pull you even closer to him, right up against him. 

“baby,” he says, making his voice all deep and sighs on purpose, just to be unfair to you. “is this okay?”

you whine, and he settles his face in your hair, the strands of it tickling his skin as he inhales in the scent of you. “i thought it was a dream.”

he smiles into your hair. you make him feel like sunshine incarnate, and the rush he’s getting right now is akin to the one he gets jumping off the empire state building. “no, this is very real.”

“hm,” and you continue to drag your ass into him, murmuring in a soft voice that makes him want to take you right there and then, “it still feels like a dream. like you’re not real, right now.”

oh, what he would do to make you say his name in that same voice; he wants to whisper all the things he wants to do to you right now. “i know, baby. you feel like a dream.” his hands continue to slide up and up your torso, groaning at your sharp intake as he gently fondles the softness of your breasts. 

you overwhelm his senses, teasing him, and when you let out a whine of his name, satoru snaps.

“i’m going to make you feel good right now. tell me if it’s a fucking dream,” he grits out, ignoring whatever cramps that were screaming at him to get on top of you. 

you gasp out a “satoru,” wriggling in his grasp, and he can’t take it anymore. he brings up one of his hands. shoots a web that lands right on your left hand. then your right hand.

satoru just tied you up using his webs.

you look at him in whatever version of shock you can muster in your tired state. “satoru, what the—” but you’re muffled, because he’s kissing you, hard, roving his hands up and down your body and grabbing whatever he can as if he’s devouring you while making out with you.

“do you know,” and his eyes flash dangerously while looking down at yours, “how you’ve teased me with these shorts?” his hands trails down to the waistband of the offending piece of clothing, pulling it to make it snap against your skin. you jump, looking at satoru desperately, who’s left you bare at his mercy, subject to his super human strength as he grabs your shorts with both his hands again. “every fucking time i’ve sneaked up in to your room, it’s been so hard to not fuck you senseless in these flimsy things. it’s only fair you pay the price, right baby?”

it’s not like you have anything to answer him with, having lost all brain cells being fucked out like this. he pulls them down, and if he had laser vision, he would have stared through your panties long ago, eyes fixated on the crotch that was nearly translucent with the amount of slick going through it. burying his face right in between your thighs, he noses at your cunt before groaning. then, he uses his teeth to grab onto the middle and pull. until your pussy is bare to him.

“oh, fuck you’re so pretty,” he curses, lapping at your sweetness. his tongue roves up and down your folds, and if your hands could, they would be pulling at his hair solely because you were so sensitive. but you were trapped, thighs gripped in his strong hands and your arms trapped by his ultra-strong webs. “my good girl.”

then, you feel pressure at your opening. “sato—” you squeal but are immediately interrupted by your own moan as he curls his long, thick fingers, eyes observing your every movement as you squirm, electric shocks running up and down your body as he hits your spot dead-on.

and he notices, because the motherfucker chuckles. “oh, so that’s the spot, huh?” he purrs, visibly pleased as he memorizes it and abuses it, hitting it with every stroke. you barely notice him add one finger, add two fingers as he starts to suck on your clit. overwhelmed with pleasure, you’re only brought back to reality when he rips all contact away from you.

“what—” you mumble mindlessly, until you see what he’s doing. he pulls his sweatpants down. and he’s not wearing boxers, so you drool when his cock springs out, leaking copiously and hard. without taking his eyes off you, he pumps it to its fullest length, and you’re just staring in awe at its sheer length.

“what’re you looking at, baby?” he teases, using his hand to wiggle his cock in front of your face to mock you. “want it so bad, isn’t that right?”

you glare at him half-heartedly, but whine regardless. “just put it in, gojo.”

“oh,” and he flashes you a smile that makes a big danger sign in red flash across your mind. “it’s gojo, now is it?”

 “satoru,” there are tears brimming in the corner of your eyes, the ones that make satoru even more aroused at your want, “please. i need it.”

a boyish grin and a forehead kiss that has you reeling at his duality. “anything for my woman in stem.” with that, he pushes in, both of your eyes rolling back as his cock is engulfed by your gummy walls. soon after, he starts thrusting, desperation fueling both of you as you cross your legs behind gojo’s back, the deeper angle making his thighs shake while fucking into you. 

he grabs your face, gives you a tender kiss. “fuck, i love this pussy. so sweet for me.” 

you give him a wanton moan in return as he continues to thrust deep, tender strokes into you. “satoru, ‘m not gonna last long.” with the amount of foreplay he’s done alongside how sensitive you are, you’re steadily reaching your orgasm already, and with the way satoru’s now tightly gripping the sheets beside you while thrusting inside you, he is too.

wet squelching noises echoes across the room, and you know the neighbors can hear the obscene plap! plap! plap! coming from skin meeting skin, your hips against his. he buries his face into your neck, panting at your ear until he uses his hand to wrench your face towards his.

“i love you,” he groans, forcing your eyes to meet his. “i love you forever and will do so. so you can’t break my heart,” and he’s desperately thrusting again, “and you can’t leave me. please.”

at his confession, you break, back arching as you also squeal out a iloveyou while gasping loudly, hips rolling to rise against his as he fucks you through your orgasm. quickly, his thrusts veer into overstimulation and you whine. “toru.” he takes one look at your state—face impossibly flushed, hands tied, and pussy absolutely engulfing his cock, and his orgasm hits him like a truck, making him gasp and bend and break as he goes to heaven and back with the aftershocks of your orgasm making your pussy clench around him so beautifully. his cum enters you in hot spurts, making you exhale sharply at the feeling as he comes down from his orgasm, collapsing next to you.

for a few minutes, heavy breathing fills the room, both of you catching your breaths. until satoru breaks the silence. “so, what’s it like to fuck a superhero?”

you take one look at him—all smug and propped up on his elbow—and spidey sense be damned as you try grab a pillow. key word is try because you’re then wrenched back with a reminder that you’re still bound. “satoru,” and you give him a sickly sweet smile, the one that he knows means he’s in trouble, “when are these going to dissolve?”

and satoru pretends to be deep in thought, but you can see him trying to inch off the bed slowly, as if to escape your wrath after his answer. “uhm…maybe five hours?”

if it weren’t for the damn spidey sense that he had, he wouldn’t have been able to escape the swing of your legs as you looked at him murderously. “satoru gojo you will unhand me from these webs this instant—-“

“i don’t know,” he shrugs, shit eating grin in his face. “you look kinda sexy in bed like this. mad at me.” but when your eyes flash with anger, he hiccups nervously, telltale of the fact he won’t mess with you.

“i hate you,” you groan out, pouting like a petulant child while you glare at the ceiling.

 satoru comes close to you to bend at his waist and give you a forehead kiss. “no, you don’t.” 

you give him a pointed glare, telling him not to be testy. “clean me up. now.”

at your expression, his eyes widen in fear and he salutes. “anything for you, ma’am.”

at his retreating form, you giggle and sigh to yourself. you never would’ve known that spider-man would be the one fetching a clean up rag for you after fucking the shit out of you, but you wouldn’t trade it for the world.

when satoru comes back, he cleans you up, tenderly, as if he is afraid that you will break. you’re a little drowsy when he returns to you, but he doesn’t dare try to wake you up when he hears little breaths from your nose indicating you’ve fallen asleep. after he finishes his job, he admires your features.

satoru lingers for a moment, his gaze softening as he watches the gentle rise and fall of your chest. the weight of his responsibilities presses on him, as it always does, but tonight, it feels heavier—like a tether pulling him between the life he’s chosen and the life he craves.

you, so peaceful in sleep, represent something fragile, something precious. and that terrifies him. because what if he fails? what if the cost of being spider-man is losing the one thing that feels real?

still, he knows he can’t walk away—not from this city, not from you. with a deep breath, he leans down and presses a featherlight kiss to your forehead, a silent promise lingering in his chest.

“i’ll keep you safe,” he murmurs, barely audible. “no matter what.”

instead of leaving, satoru settles down beside you, careful not to disturb your rest. the city can wait, just for a little while. for now, he wraps an arm around you, grounding himself in the warmth of your presence. as your breathing evens out against him, he lets his own eyes drift shut, the weight of his responsibilities momentarily lifting. today, he chooses to stay.

kinktober masterlist | general masterlist

a/n ok if you're ever curious what being fucked in the ass with a wooden dildo no lube is like, just try to write this fic or any longfic. it's 4am, this a/n is short and unintelligble just like most of this fic but it's been a journey, im very sentimental because of this fic and i hope you guys like it. ok im going to pass out so pls ignore all typos xoxo but please flood my inbox im excited to see yalls reactions when i wake up

plspls pls comment and reblog!!!

TAGLIST

@sugoroo @ryutotsukai0824 @sharkubi @lisvanrouge @mxlktae

@samisfunky @achbbys000 @xd3pr3ss3dx @jottositto @cheescakebroom

@r0ckst4rjk @callmeagardengnome @rottmntrulesall @blankwashed @sindulgent666

@honeynanamin @obsessgurlll @starrnai @herefor-tojis-tits @ramonathinks

@creamflix

[starillusion13]

Poisoned Love

Pairing: bff! Renjun x f!reader x bff! Haechan

W.C: 10.5k

Genre: Yandere, Friends to lovers, SMUT

Warnings: Pervert! Hyuckren, Dom! Haechan, Dom! Renjun, manhandling, toxic ex, possessive, restraining acts, obsession, anonymous messages, calls, texts, gifts, threats, crying, scared, privacy invasion, gaslighting(?), pwp (don't do it sillies), oral(f. Rec.), fingering, nipply play, cum as lube, praising, sucking, biting, double-penetration, lots of kissing, anal sex, finger sucking, multiple sex scene, forgot to add anything? maybe

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY LOVE @renjunnnaaa

Network: @kvanity-main

MINORS DONT INTERACT UNDER THE POST 🔞

"I told you not to put those choco chips now. Those were supposed to be the last step." The older boy grumbled and placed the bottles on the countertop, before glaring at the younger one who started laughing all of a sudden.

"you think I have put those in the mixture?" the younger one smirked and took away a bottle from the row. The other one cursed him in his head for disturbing him at every step.

The younger leaned against the counter and pulled out his phone with a smile. He seemed too excited about what he was about to do. The older one hit his bicep and glared, "then where is it?"

"in my tummy." He said but didn't glance at the furious boy who was about to kill him with the knife beside him.

He stared at him in disbelief, "seriously?" The younger one nodded and smiled at the small screen in his hand and this made the boy beside him to snatch away his phone and was about to throw it away when they heard their house bell ringing.

It was not like usual but someone was desperately pressing the switch as if they got attacked by someone or being chased by a mad dog. Haechan, who was near the kitchen door, quickly stepped towards the grand living room and then walked towards the door. He didn't hesitate to waste any time to open the door because if the person outside was a possible threat, then the guard must have informed him about it but without any commotion from anyone, he opened the door.

Two arms wrapped around him and someone's face was pressed against his chest. The familiar touch and the soft voice calling out his name, "Haechan...." was enough to make him realize the person who was hugging him. He raised a hand and stroked her hairs while the other hand pulled her inside the door, before locking it behind him.

Renjun was standing in a distance from both of them and when he noticed the figure in his hold, his eyes went wide and quickly stepped forward, "what happened?" he patted her back and caressed her to calm her down because she was too scared of something and clutching the younger male's shirt tightly in her hold.

"y/n...tell me what happened?" Haechan whispered the words, not wanting to raise his voice higher than that volume. You didn't pull apart when he tried to look at your face so he guided you to the sofa and made you sit with him. Renjun stood in front of you with folded hands. When he noticed a maid passing by the stairs, he called her and asked her to prepare the cake from where they had left. She obligingly nodded and went towards the kitchen and his attention was again brought back to you when you spoke up.

Pulling yourself away from Haechan, you took deep breaths and bit your lip. He brushed your hairs back and pulled your face up by your chin and noticed your tear strained cheek and red eyes with red plump lips because of your habit of biting lips in nervousness, "tell me, y/n. Is it the same reason?"

He knew. Both of them knew. Renjun scoffed as soon as you nodded. The way you were scared and nervous, they were more furious. It's getting too much. They can't let you live like this with the same thing repeating without any trace of stop from the other end of causing this mishap.

"Heachan, we need to stop this. She has already been through so much and now..." the younger one nodded at his words and smiled at you while patting your head, "how about you freshen up? You look like a mess. You already have so many things, even a room for yourself so go upstairs. We will be there soon."

Renjun extended his palm for you to grab and you did it. Looking at his face, he was smiling all the way when you stood up and turned towards Haechan and exchanged soft smiling goodbyes, just to leave for your supposed room. Renjun was holding your hand as if you were the fragile doll, well to him you were, his precious angel. He always reminds you that even if your status doesn't match with his and Haechan, you will always be their bestfriend, his angel.

Leaving you inside the room, he jogged to where Haechan was.

Looking around the room, you felt like you were at home. Well, you feel safer here than being at your apartment all alone. They have asked you to move in with them so many times but your common phrase that you don't want to be a burden to them makes them irritated. Well, not really. They appreciate your choices and decisions but not when you are living out there scared of the shit going on in your life recently.

Taking the necessary things from the drawer for a shower and then when you opened the closet, you were surprised. There were a lot of dresses, each of them being your favorites but there were only a few last time. It must be because they bought all of these because of your nearing birthday. You shook your head, chuckled and stepped inside the bathroom.

Meanwhile, the two boys were preparing everything to take along with them to your room. For the dinner, they opt to have it with you in your room and their maids arrange it in the way to their liking.

Renjun didn't allow anyone to enter your room so he took the trays and entered the door. Haechan was carrying other necessary stuff like extra pillows and water bottles.

"Hey! Are you fine?" He greeted you with a warm hug after putting all the stuff on the couch. Renjun placed the tray on the center table and turned towards you two. "So, what should we do now? What about movies?"

You pulled apart from the hug to reply to the standing male beside the table, "um...I don't want to bother you two if you have something to do but......thanks for letting me come here."

"y/n, we have said this before. You are our best-friend and it's natural for you to come here. Even we asked you to stay here to move in but you are the one not listening to us." Renjun stepped towards you before saying those words and cupped your face to plant a kiss on your forehead. "Come on. Hop on the bed."

"Let's have our time, forgetting all those negativities. Just let it be how you are feeling with us." Haechan said and brought a spoonful of cake to your lips.

"I can eat." You chuckled but he shook his head and urged you to open your mouth, "no, tell me how is the cake? I made it for you."

"you knew I was coming?" you were surprised.

Renjun shook his head, "No. we would have sent you the cake as a surprise and I made the batter for the whole process and he had just put it in the microwave without choco chips."

Haechan glared at him when he continued spilling what the younger one was doing since evening. Your laughter filled the room with their giggles while moving from one topic to another.

For a moment, you forgot what was the reason you came knocking at their door.

Their actions were too sweet. Always, they treat you tenderly. As if you are a porcelain doll to them, making you feel like one of the sophisticated items from their household. Skinship is very normal between you three, not in a weird way but hugging, cuddling with each other or kissing the other one for reassurance regarding a thing is common. Mainly, you are the one who receives kisses from both of them a lot. You are the one who kisses when you are joking with them a lot and also, they are missing your funny side when you are so quiet today.

Scooting towards the bed frame, you sit in between them and notice the double toned hair boy to place the tray in front of you. Haechan pulled you to his side when he noticed you zoning out and rubbed your arms, "do you want to talk about it?"

You blinked and turned towards him, "why is he doing this?"

He hummed and nodded to himself, "knew he was crazy for you. You thought of him as the perfect boyfriend but look when you found out his real intention, he is pulling off this shit." He hugged you and kissed the side of your head, "but it's okay. We are here to keep you safe."

"I know. You are here, both of you but what if he does something more? What if he tries to harm both of you." You clutched his wrist which was around your collarbone.

Renjun sat in his place beside you and smiled while patting your legs, "he won't. you know, no one can do anything to us, so stop thinking about that shithead and let's enjoy our time."

Yeah. Why are you still thinking about him? it's just going to make you feel more stressed and then scared to be alone. Well, should you say something that's been bugging your mind since afternoon. You wanted to say this for the last few days but your hesitation and what if... you don't know what to think more but you just want to stay closer to someone who feels like family.

"I want to move in with you here."

>>>><<<<

You once had a family, a nice one but the sudden storm in your life snatched everything from you. Your teenage life and your happiness, everything was gone but these two met you at the park in the colony changed your life. Of course, it was nowhere near your mediocre environment but that day after having your part time job, you were strolling around the streets when you stumbled to the grand exposure to the park with a huge garden. The place belongs to all the luxurious apartments and their wealthy owners.

You were just crying to yourself when a boy extended a handkerchief towards you. "Haechan." That was the only introduction he had with you. When you hesitated and tried to stand up and look away, the one named Renjun pushed you down lightly and held your hands, "hey...what happened?"

Their soothing voices, warm lingering touches and soft smiles made you let your heart out to them. Since that day, you somehow bumped into each other a lot. Them arriving at your café, or pulling up in front of the university in a luxury car. Everything was surprising to you. You didn't want so much attention on you or never wanted to live like a wealthy person but you wanted to stay with people who will be close to you.

Honestly, the apartment where you stay is the one these two helped you to buy so that you don't have to stay in that previous old and rusted area. You were so happy that, with an affordable rent and two friends supporting you was enough to motivate you to move forward. They were literally a blessing in your life and your gloomy days were soon turning into the bright ones.

Not long enough after having those happy days with your two new best friends, comes your school crush, rather your childhood best friend, Wooyoung. The way your eyes went wide when you noticed him standing at your university gate with Bouquet of red roses and him dressed up in a black leather fit. You instantly ran up to him and hugged around his neck whispering, "I missed you, woo."

"I missed you too, baby."

And then you shared your whole life story with each other at a restaurant where he invited you for his success. He finally got his father's business position and now moving to this new city, he got to know about you from a common friend.

The daily meetups and the reunion of the friendship blooms into a new stage of bonding. The kindle of love. He was the first one to approach you with the proposal and to both of your surprises, you accepted it quickly. Why not? He was always the one to care for you, to be there for you and now, to love you. You are more than blessed to have three of them with you in your life.

But, as we know, the happy days don't last long enough. It's been six months you were dating Wooyoung, and once, Renjun suddenly told you that your boyfriend seems a bit unusual to him. you let him be assured that you know your boyfriend for too long and he can't be bad. He just nodded and smiled at you.

It was early in the morning that you woke up, all smiles and in a terribly good mood. You didn't have your university classes to attain so it was not a big deal to spend your day as a lazy one. You were in the middle of making yourself lunch when the doorbell rang. You quickly rinsed your hands and wiped them on your apron before going to open the door.

There was no one but when you were about to close it, there was a gift box and a rose Bouquet with a letter attached to it. You were hesitating to pick it up and noticed your name written on the red card with a silver glittery ink. Closing the door behind you, you placed yourself on the sofa with the gifts.

'Dear y/n,

You seem so happy and lively every day. Is it because of me? I think so. Well, I am sure it must be the reason. Who else is going to keep you happy like me?

Let's not talk about this surprise when we meet. I want to see you blushing while remembering my gifts. You can do this for me, right?

I love you so much.

From unknown (your love)'

"Unknown? Wooyoung is really weird sometimes and I love you too." You kissed the letter before sliding it on the table top and inhaled the sweet smell which was already spreading across your room from the flowers in your hold. Deciding a nice place for them, you picked it up and put it in the vase. The gift box had a ring inside it with one more letter telling you how perfect and beautiful you would look with it.

As he told you, you kept it a secret from him. Every day, you received many gifts from him and never for once, you raised the topic about the gifts.

. .

One day when you were holding hands and returning to your apartment, you suddenly blurted out, "Thank you, Woo."

he was surprised, "for what?"

oh, you almost mentioned the gifts, "for...for everything, Woo. Thank you."

He turned you around to face him and kissed your lips, "Thanks to you too for accepting my love."

Who knew after that day, your life was about to change.

He texted you the next day that he was going for some business programs with his dad to a different country and he won't be able to meet you for how long he doesn't know and even though you were sad, you texted him back with enthusiasm and being a supportive girlfriend, you appreciated his work.

It was afternoon and you knew the timing, his gifts. But he was not there, then?

You opened the door, greeting with a teddy bear and chocolates.

'Sorry, y/n. I know you are missing me but for the compensation. Here, a gift for you.'

You smiled while happily taking the teddy bear to your room.

But later in the day, you got more letters and more flowers and these ones were not the usual ones like other days. Now, everyday your excitement for the gifts were turning into a nightmare. It was about pure obsession.

The letters were all about questions related to why you were wearing the dress to the restaurant, why you are not going to the university or why you are still in your bed and not eating properly. How the hell does he know about this? You were scared and the closest person to share this was your two best friends.

"Are you sure, that's him?" Renjun asked you the question for the third time and exchanged looks with Haechan who was equally stressed like you. They were so annoyed with the fact that someone or rather your boyfriend was invading your privacy. Even when you were throwing away some letters without reading, he dared to threaten you. He even sent pictures of you doing your chores in your apartment.

"Who else would do that? It's clear that he is the one who knows everything about me. He is my boyfriend and it clearly mentions that whatever the person is telling or doing is for the lover. In some he even mentioned himself as my boyfriend and who else will know that he is out of town?"

Haechan patted your back, "it's okay, y/n. calm down for me. we will find a solution to it. We won't allow him to do anything anymore."

"I'm scared...what if he tries to do something more."

"You should break up." You looked up quickly towards Renjun hearing his words. He was staring at you as if he expected your sudden gaze on him. He raised a brow at you and you felt defeated when you didn't know what to reply to him. you should break up then what else is holding you back.

Well, the idea of breaking up was the only option that seemed right when after a few days, you got a call from Wooyoung, "y/n! have you received my gift?"

Gift. The word was so endearing and loving from his mouth but to you it was a curse. You nodded as if he could see you, well all those pictures, then he might see you right? You have searched for the hidden cameras and all with your best friends, but nothing you could find, then how?

"I want words, y/n. don't just nod."

Your eyes went wide and quickly you cut the call and threw it on the bed. How?

He called you again and again but you didn't pick up, you kept staring at the phone.

A message popped up in your phone,

'hey! I didn't mean to scare you. I thought you were nodding because I got the mail it had delivered.'

'I'm sorry, love.'

'Please tell me. Do you like it?'

Didn't mean to scare you......

You stared at the gift box in front of you. Didn't bother to open it but you texted him like usual 'yes' with emojis. He was too happy because of the way his next messages were flooding in your inbox.

.

.

.

It started to feel suffocated and exposed in your own apartment and your two best friends repeatedly inviting you to stay at their place. Yes, you gladly accepted it and started to spend most of the days at their house. Sometimes, having sleepovers and movie nights or you all going together for short trips for half of the day. Renjun showed you his recent paintings dedicated to you. You couldn't really decipher the meanings behind each of his paintings but still you liked it because his hard work behind it was showing.

Haechan learned some new recipes to cook for you and honestly, most of the time, he made a mess of them. Still, the love for you was showing in the work.

These two were actively keeping your mind off from the incidents happening back at your apartment.

Renjun was driving you to your apartment when he offered you again, "why don't you move in with us? It will be safe and easier for you."

"no. I don't want to be a bother. I should talk with him. Why is he doing this with me?  Hope, it can solve the problem." you looked down on your lap.

"and you think he will? Will he leave you after that? He is obsessed with you. His obsessions are clearly showing. A healthy relationship is not like this. when there's still time. Come out of it."

He pulled the car in front of your apartment and you nodded, "I will think about this. Thank you, Jun."

He nodded and patted your head, planting a kiss to the side, "take care and be safe. Call me or Haechan if it's too much."

You exited his car with a smile but your smile soon disappeared when you reached your doorstep. Again, those flowers and letters.

And this time a message popped up in your phone from an unknown id,

'How was the trip, love? Did you enjoy it? Are you missing me?'

You were so scared that you quickly dialed Renjun's number and he was quick enough to reach your location and engulfed you in a hug.

"It's okay. I am here. Don't be scared."

When he asked you for the keys, you shook your head. You didn't want to enter the door and whispered to him to take you somewhere else. And he did. He listened to your pleading, he himself didn't want to leave you there alone. So, he drove you to a cliff where you love the most to spend time talking about your life. This is the place where only three of you come often.

When you reached the place, you were surprised to see Haechan with a white leather jacket and Black jeans standing, leaning against his bike and you exited the car, only to run towards him, "Haechan..."

"Baby...are you okay?" his voice was soothing just like other times. His tone becomes sweeter when he speaks to you. He really treats you like a baby.

And the next day how you ended up at their doorstep, finally having too much of the threats and scared that he might pull up something more crazy.

They blocked his number and shifted all your things from the apartment to their house. Even, they managed to change your university classes to online. Haechan even bought you a new phone with a new number so that you don't have to feel scared of him texting you again.

Was it all over? Or something more crazy was supposed to happen?

>>>><<<<

It's been over six months, you are staying with them in their house, which they make you feel assured to think of yours too. But something, you did notice. Their skinship with you. The tension between you when either of them is too close to you. Why? You have a boyfriend. Well, maybe you had.

Then, what's this they are trying to show you? Trying to make you feel.

You were standing beside Haechan who was beside you cutting vegetables because last night, he decided to learn to make you a new meal which a lover should try to impress their crush.

"So, am I your crush?" you asked him and raised your brow when he blushed and turned away.

He shook his head while washing the knife, "keep quiet. I am doing something important. Don't distract me."

"So, am I your distraction?" you neared him and stepped beside him, leaning against the counter. "Tell me."

He glanced at you before placing the knife to the side and with a quick move, he caged you between his arms, trapping you between the counter and his body.

"Haechan..." you gasped because of his sudden action.

"Ask me the question again." his breath was near you, fanning your lips. His soft voice yet a tone of demanding was enough to make your breaths heavy. You averted your eyes away when he grabbed your jaw, "look at me and ask the question."

His lips were almost touching yours and the only thing that was crossing your mind was to kiss him. Why? You don't know. But you wanted to.

"Kiss me." you whispered the words, your mind going blank and your hands clutching the marble edge of the counter, nails colliding against the slippery surface and you bit your lower lip.

"Fuck, I would've never thought you wanted me in the same way I wanted you," he took your hand and pulled you towards him so your bodies were pressed together more. "So you are attracted to me too?" He whispers low in your ear, making your breath hitch.

"Well, I guess-"

"A direct one word answer is what I want." he cut you off, nibbling on your earlobe. "Are you enjoying this, y/n?"

"Yes," you answered him, finally relaxing in his arms. you held onto his shoulder to prevent yourself from collapsing, your knees feeling weak at his touch. "I love you."

He continued peppering your neck with soft wet kisses, his breaths fanning over it. You tilted your head to allow him more access. You placed a hand on his chest, then began to untuck his black shirt, both hands starting to roam under it.

His lips pulled your lips into a kiss, a soft sensual one. Never in a while, you thought to be like this with him and even going further into it.

At the same time, he was busy moving his hands up and down your sides, still moving his lips with the rhythm of yours. He grunted when your soft hands met his bare skin, his heart beating erratically. Tongues intertwining and hands roaming each other's bodies. You tugged his shirt eagerly and he helped you to take it off before throwing it away, he stopped you when you were pulling your shirt.

He wanted to do it on his own. He wanted to see you on his own.

He separated his mouth for a few seconds so he could take your shirt off. You admired his bare tanned chest and abs, not being able to keep your hands off him. He went to pull your pants off.

"Fuck...you are driving me crazy." He smirked and you were nervously looking at the door to see if anyone would accidentally see you in that position with him."don't worry, no one is at home. Not even Renjun."

Before you could say a word, he again dominated your mouth once again, making your mind go blank. His hands traveled to your ass, squeezing it. You moaned into the kiss, grinding against his still clothed hard-on. "Fuck, you're so hot," he grunted, gripping your ass harder. "He had this all to himself. Lucky bastard."

"I didn't fuck him." You whispered.

"Then am I the first one?" He smirked and held your chin upward. You nodded and shyly looked at him. "Words y/n.." he pecked your lips.

"Yes, Haechan. You are the first one. Please do something."

He lifted you by your thighs and placed you on the counter. You gasped when your lower half came in contact with the cold surface. He crouched down to kiss your belly. Your chest heaved up and down in anticipation as you felt his touch, trailing kisses starting from your ankle and going higher. you began squirming when the soft lingering touch of his lips reached your inner thigh. "Hae-Haechan..." your breathing labored.

He poked his tongue out to trace the edges of your underwear, dangerously close to your heat, but avoided the spot on purpose just to tease you a little longer. He is a tease and he is even proving it to you in this situation.

your hand grabs at his hair, the other gripping the edge of the counter. "please, stop teasing me," you whined, getting more and more frustrated.

He removed your panties with his teeth, staring up at your face, twisted in frustration. "God, I can't get enough of your look. You are perfect, y/n."

Your knuckles start hurting from the tight grip you had on the counter but it's the only thing that's keeping your grip strong because your grip on all other senses has been lost completely. Is it right to do this with your best-friend? But your body betrays you with the excitement building inside. You feel yourself attracted to him but...

You were distracted when you didn't notice that he parted your heated lips and inserted his index finger inside your lips, making you let out a choked up moan. It glided in easily, emitting a squelching sound as wetness surrounds it.

"Haechan, we should stop this. This is not right." you breathed out, sounding almost as if you were in pain.

Haechan, too preoccupied with his task, didn't even acknowledge your plea; he adds a second finger, watching how they get swallowed up by your heat. He began a scissoring motion, feeling your walls pulse around them.

" Fuck, Haechan...that- that's...more please" you cried out when you felt his thumb press on your sensitive clit. you breathe heavily, your skin sticky with sweat, legs shaking and fingers going numb from the grip on the marbled counter-top.

"I will give you more, baby." he kissed your belly and  nuzzled his face, his breath tingling against your hot skin. "Let's have the fun. I will give you everything, I promise."

When he couldn't take the insistent throbbing of his cock anymore, he stood and made quick work of lowering his pants and boxers. you whimpered at the loss of his fingers. He held your thigh with one hand and grabbed his length with the other, rubbing the tip against your wetness. "Tell me how much you want it, baby," he demanded and slid his cock against your clit.

"Want it so bad, need it, Haechan, please fill me up," you panted, swerving your hips.

"I want you too. So bad. My filthy girl. My princess is going to be mine." he unclasped your bra and quickly plopped a nipple in his mouth. You moaned out his name and grabbed his hair, his grunts vibrating against your skin. When he heard your plea to stop again, he chuckled against your chest while still licking and sucking your nipples, "don't fight yourself, princess. You know you want this. I know you want this. He couldn't have given you this like me." he bit your skin near the collarbone, "fuck...he should not have come into our life. I would have gotten you sooner."

your back arched off the countertop when the tip slipped in and he simultaneously groaned in delight. He pushed the rest in slowly, filling you up as promised. He leaned over your body to press his lips to your neck and leave wet kisses.

Both of your hands were buried into his hair, making it messier than it already was. He pulled away and pulled you a little closer to the edge by your thighs. you gasped and grabbed at the edge again to stabilize yourself. He pulled you in for a passionate kiss and he moaned into the kiss feeling you clenching around him. Your tears strained your face and this time, it made him smile because you were not crying because of that shit and his threats but because of him and his sweet tortures on your sensitive parts.

He gave you no warning before he pulled out, only leaving the tip in, and pushing back in.

he grunted, feeling the squeeze of those tight warm walls around him. "Shit," he swore, staring at your figure. His hands went up to squeeze your breasts and fickle your nipples, igniting your senses and making your body react to his touches more.

"You," Haechan praised, pushing in, "are...so...sexy" Each word was punctured with a powerful thrust, knocking the breath out of you beneath him.

His movements gradually started to get faster, his hands gripping your hips. He slowed down to put your legs over his shoulders and held on to your thighs instead, thrusting harder, reaching deep inside your warmth. "Haechan!" you clawed at his back, letting out lewd moans that mix with the sound of skin slapping on skin. he pecked your lips and smirked.

"Ah- Yeah, baby, scream my name! Let me hear you who's fucking you this good," He said in between thrusts.

"Haechan, yes, fuck me!" you repeated his name insistently, overcome with ecstasy.

he rolled his hips, grunting in pleasure each time. His tongue glided across his lower lip as he watched you with hooded eyes. Haechan moaned when your walls clamped down on his cock, pulsing around him, tightening and squeezing."Fuck!"

"y/n, so, so good, you are doing so good I'm so close, fuck!" your vision went white as you hit your high, body spasming with aftershocks and toes curling while your hips keep moving against his.

your orgasm along with your blissful facial expression triggered his own, causing him to release hot, sticky spurts of cum. He pulls out and jerks off over you, more coming out to paint your lower stomach.

he pressed an affectionate kiss on your leg that was still over his shoulder. "God, that was awesome," he breathed, running a hand through his sweaty black hair.

He helped you sit up comfortably before pulling you in for a heated kiss, your arms going around his broad shoulders. you sighed in satisfaction, softly dragging your nails down his naked back.

He bit your bottom lip in return, hands roaming your thighs. "Good?" Haechan asked you after pulling away. you nod in agreement, "all good."

He pulled his pants back up and stepped back to collect your disposed dress. He carefully dressed you back in your clothes, leaving the inner wears still on the floor. You didn't bother to wear it as you were going to shower anyways.

He kissed your cheek and you blushed, "I can't believe we just did that on my kitchen counter..." you hid your face in the crook of his neck. "but..I...it feels so wrong."

"Why?" He hugged your body and kissed your head. You murmured against his bare skin, "we are best friends and this feels so wrong...we are not even dating..."

"Will you let me be your boyfriend?" he pulled back to look at your face. Your surprised expression earned a chuckle and a kiss on your tip of the nose from him. You asked him softly, "are you serious?"

He nodded and pressed his forehead to yours, "yes. I am. Will you?"

"Y-yes. I can try."

He pressed his lips to you and whispered, "I promise I will treat you better than him. I love you."

."I love you too, Haechan."

.

.

The sun shone brightly on the two figures lying comfortably in bed. Haechan blinked his eyes open and stretched, accidentally waking you up. you gently placed your hand on his cheek, caressing it slowly. You were still in disbelief after the last event.

"Good morning," he greeted in a gruff sleepy voice. The sound of his low voice made your cheeks heat up slightly as you smiled back at him with a greet. you both giggled and cuddled closer; your activities from the last evening had you both glowing in happiness and excitement.

"Sleep well, baby?" Haechan, stroking your hair. "hm, best sleep I've had in a while." you offered a small smile but he frowned. "What do you mean 'in a while'? Have you not been sleeping well?" He asked, concerned.

"It's not that... I just slept better since you were next to me," you buried your face in his chest in order to hide your embarrassment.

.

.

.

Well that was not the end, even though you started dating Haechan. You could see Renjun was in a bit of a sour mood recently. Snapping at Haechan every now and then and sometimes, he even glares at you for no reason.

"Y/n...are you busy?" Renjun was standing at your doorstep, you plugged out your earphones and sat up properly and patted the place beside you. You shook your head and smiled, "no. I'm just chilling. Haechan said he will be coming home late. Why, do you need something?"

He stepped forward and locked the door behind him. Your eyes went wide in surprise, "Renjun?"

He chuckled and noticed a photo frame on a shelf beside him, you and Haechan smiling brightly at the camera. He himself clicked that picture for you two. He had also clicked a picture with you but why not he is there as well? Oh, beside it there is another picture but all three of you smiling, you in between staring at the camera and them staring at you.

"How are you and Haechan doing?" His slow steps made your heart beat fast. Your breath heaving with his low voice and chuckles in between his questions. You gulped and scooted towards the bed frame.

You managed to smile, "we are fine."

He placed himself beside you and scanned your body, in shorts and a short tee. You are really a tease. He thought to himself and his gaze darkened with the thought that you are dating his step-brother. You tried to move away from him when he held your wrist and pulled you in front, "where are you going?"

"no..I'm not going anywhere."

"Am I not good for you?" his dark voice and the tight grip on your wrist didn't let you avert your eyes away. He curled a lock of yours between his fingers and traced your face, "speak...angel. I know you can use your words." he kissed the tip of your nose and smiled.

"Yes, you are good." you breathed out the words. He pulled your ankles and wrist together towards him, a slow tug upwards made you sit on his thigh. Your legs folded by your knees and resting on either side of his leg.

"You know, haechan is not the only one who loves you in the way you are attracted to him." he leaned and whispered in your ears, "you don't know how bad I want you angel. I want to ruin the innocence of you." his breath tickling your earlobe and his teeth grazing over your back of the ears, where he pressed a kiss and trails down wet and sloppy kiss downwards to your neck and throat.

"R-Renjun...stop.."

He darkly chuckled in your ears and pulled apart to stare at your scared face, the look he is used to seeing because of the past incident of your obsessive boyfriend. He grabbed your wrist to bring your hand to his chest and leaned forward, "you didn't tell him to stop. And, look, do you feel the heart? That's beating for you my love."

"What do you mean?"

"I love you, y/n...please...I love you so much."

he pulled down the straps of your red tee, slipping them off your shoulders, unclipping the bra with one swift click and kissing the skin there. He moved lower to nip at your collarbones and you curled your hands above his chest, arching forward. He helped you slip your arms out, then proceeded to pull the fabric low enough along with your bra to expose your breasts. His head descended down to take a nipple into his mouth, making it harden as he swirled his tongue around it, gently toying with the other between two fingers. you squirmed, your chest rising and falling with every breath you took.

"Renjun, please..."

"It doesn't take much to have you begging, huh?" He teases, making you whine in response, "I'll have you begging even more in a minute, love."

Renjun kissed his way down your stomach, using his hands to pull down your shorts to reveal your panties. He pushed your knees apart, causing you to gasp in surprise. He pushed you down on the bed, your head hitting softly against the mattress. He traced his lips at the edge of your underwear, staring up at you with desire in his eyes; your reactions will never cease to entrance him. Them.

Your hands tightened in his hair, tugging at it softly as Renjun continued to tease you, softly nibbling at your thighs near the edges of your panties. he hooked his fingers through it and pulled it down your legs, taking it off and dropping it to the floor, leaving you bare apart for the tee bunched up at your waist.

your hands slipped out of his hair as Renjun scooted further down the bed, placing your legs over his shoulders. He kissed your inner thighs, tracing his tongue along your sweet skin before going even lower. you let out a loud gasp and your fingers twisted into the sheets when he licked at your heat. legs trembling with every contact of his tongue made with your clit. He held tightly onto your thighs, pressing his pointed tongue against your swollen clit in a teasing manner and flicking the little bud.

You were practically crying when Renjun pressed his tongue inside of you, slightly parting your walls. He looked up, seeing your face twisted in pleasure, panting and moaning as he thrusted his tongue inside your heat. He used one of his hands to rub your clit with his thumb and you whined loudly, trying to push your hips back against him.

"I want to cum," you stutter out, thrashing your head from side to side.

Renjun stopped all his movements to look up at you, "What's the magic word, baby?"

"Please," you begged, your hands pushing his head down. you couldn't take it anymore. you were so fucking close to the edge, you barely needed a push to reach your peak.

"You are so perfect, y/n."

He chuckled before diving back down to accomplish his task: he slurped and licked vigorously, swirling his tongue and flicking your most sensitive nerve. He pinned your hips to the bed to keep you from moving too much as he worked closer to orgasm. Renjun knew you wanted to cum before it even happened: the legs on his shoulders tighten around him and shake with the force of your climax, sending you crashing down.you pulled hard at his duo toned hair.

Soon after, your body turns slack, as if melted into a puddle. He kissed your inner thigh then your belly button and continued all the way up to your chest. He didn't waste any time removing the pant, throwing it to the side, he slowly pulled up his shirt above his head and your eyes locked at his chest, Renjun softly nips at the soft and supple skin of your neck, tasting the sweetness of it, inhaling the scent.

your hands held onto his broad shoulders and your nails dragged down his back when he finally pushed inside you, burying himself in your tight heat. He rolled his hips gently, enjoying the burning pleasure you brought to him.

"Y/n." He moaned in a low voice. you held onto him tighter, pushing back against him, trying to meet his gentle movements.

Renjun's hands roamed your body, caressing every curve of your form, leaving goosebumps in their wake. your breathing was erratic, heartbeat beating fast and loud in your own ears.

you could barely handle the way he was holding you close and making those erotic sounds right next to your ear. sweat slick bodies move in harmony, pushing and pulling, biting and scratching, lost in a flame of passion.

Renjun nipped softly at your throat then at your chin and finally your lips. He rubs your noses together affectionately and giggle at the sweet gesture.

No words were exchanged as you stared into each other's eyes, in the middle of your own little world, the only important thing being one another.

Renjun lowered your legs to around his waist and accelerated the cadence of his movements, already sensing you were close by the way you were gripping him even tighter.

The rhythm turned sloppy as you both chased pleasure, rocking against each other, holding on before finally letting go, flying high before spiraling down together and drowning in pure bliss. The heavy breathing fills the otherwise silent room and sweet kisses were exchanged along with soft touches.

Renjun hid his flushed face in the crook of your neck, breathing in your scent and letting his body relax but not resting his weight on you. He couldn't get his heart to slow down; the proximity and your delicate touch were almost too much for him to handle.

"Angel," he called breathlessly, snuggling into you underneath him, "I love you," he finally said. Laying on his side, he traced your face with his index finger, from your closed eyelids to your cheek to the bridge of your nose, admiring every detail of your angelic face.

The only response he got was your soft breathing.

Renjun smiled to himself, closing his eyes and drifting into a deep sleep beside you, holding onto you tightly in his embrace.

>>>><<<<

"I'm sorry, Haechan." you were practically crying while hugging the boy in front of you and no matter how many times he did ask you about the reason, you were just clinging onto him and crying because of what you did last night.

He pulled you on his lap and rocked you in his embrace, "shh...baby tell me, what happened?" he kissed your head, "did he contact you again?" you shook your head and buried your head into his chest. "Then is it about, Renjun?"

You quickly looked up to him. Does he know what you did last night? He really answered your question as if he could read your mind.

"I know what happened yesterday." he combed your hair back and traced the purple and red marks on your skin around the neck and the exposed body parts. "If you are thinking, I'm angry with you. No, I'm not."

"Haechan?"

He smiled and pressed his lips to your temple, "I love you, princess. He loves you too. We both know our weakness for you. Because of this, we decided to have you as ours. But we were doubtful about you. How you will react and after yesterday. I'm sure you don't have a problem accepting him." he pecked your lips, and whispered into it, "Do you have a problem with this?"

"But this is wrong."

He chuckled and grabbed your neck softly, yanking your head back soft enough not to hurt you, his gaze darkened but quickly vanished with a smile appearing on his face, "you are doing no wrong, baby. This is what you want."

You were staring at his face. His words and his actions were more dominant than other days. As if he was punishing you for your deeds with his brother but also, holding back himself because that's the thing he wanted too. Or rather agreed to.

"I promised you. I would keep you safe and would protect you from everything then, why are you so afraid?" he leaned to your ear and said in a low voice, "Be brave, be strong, but take it easy. No rush baby. I know you got this."

"I love you, Haechan." you murmured and he kissed your earlobe, humming in satisfaction before returning to your lips. " You know I love you so much, right princess?" he pressed his lips to you and pulled your hair back to kiss your throat and left behind sucking on the spots.

You nodded and he asked you softly, "you will let Renjun join now?" you nodded and your mind was going blank under his sweet tortures of his mouth and hands roaming around your body. Your groans when he was pulling your hair earned chuckles from him.

He took his time teasing you, biting and nibbling and licking every sensitive part of your body, teasing you relentlessly until you were a hot whimpering mess.

You heard the door creaked open and noticed Renjun walking in, his eyes filled with lust and hunger for you. His each slow and cautious step made you squirm under Haechan's hold. He reached near the bed and pulled his belt around from the waist and tied your hands together to prevent you from moving them. your hands were by the top of your head.

"Renjun...why?" your voice was not recognisable, whether you were asking or pleading to him. He leaned forward, placing his palm on the mattress and smirked, "I haven't touched you yet but still you are begging."

Haechan pushed your top upwards revealing your body bare underneath. He quickly leaned down to trail wet kisses on your stomach, chest and flicking the nipples with his fingers and swirling the other one with tongue. Most of your body was already littered in little dark marks left by him. you squirmed as he continued his slow tortures, claiming you with love bites.

"I want you to do exactly as I say. Got it?" Haechan said in between kisses, looking at you expectantly afterwards. You nodded and when you tried to bring your hands down, Renjun caught them and glared, "did I tell you to move them?"

You shook your head frantically and whined, "No." Renjun discarded his pants and shirt, only in his boxers placed himself on the other side of you to claim your lips, holding your tied up wrist in place and other hand twirling the hardened nipples.

Haechan sat on his knees and palmed himself over the sweatpants and stared at you both. "Good girl. Now, spread your legs for me."

You did as told, spreading your legs with little resistance. He bit his lip at the sight, getting turned on. "Damn, that's hot," he gets on top of you, pressing himself against you. Your breathing stopped for a split second when both of them were right in front of you.

"You are ours, y/n. No one can take you away from us." Renjun said and kissed your cheek.

Haechan placed a light kiss on your nose, cheek then chin before descending lower.

"Please..." Upon hearing you beg, Haechan wasted no more time before diving into your heat, slipping in one finger and then followed by another. He made sure you were enjoying yourself by watching your facial expressions, grinding against the mattress at the same time to relieve his erection.

Your fingers clenched, twisting and crumpling the sheets when Renjun suddenly intertwined your pinned hands with his, your thighs squeezing around Haechan's hand involuntarily, the pleasure driving you almost wild. your breathing comes out in little gasps and your chest heaves up and down as Renjun continues flicking your most sensitive bud in hard circles, his tongue gliding easily across it. you could feel the familiar fire in the pit of your lower stomach blazing up. Just as it's about to explode, Haechan comes to an abrupt stop.

"Why?" you managed to whine through your heavy breathing.

"I like teasing you, baby. I like seeing you desperate and begging for my touch. Princess, you look so hot tied up like this, under my control. God, I wish you could see yourself from my eyes." you rubbed and squeezed your thighs together to ease the throbbing between the legs.

Haechan's dirty words, Renjun's manhandling, their rough voices and the animalistic looks in their eyes were making you feel things you never felt before. They were going crazy for you. The girl they dreamt of having for themselves was under their watch, their control, squirming and begging for them.

"I could just watch you all day." Renjun said and inhaled your scent from the crook of your neck and Haechan pulled down his boxers and took his erection in his hand, staring at you as he slowly moved his hand along his length.

Renjun continued whispering to you, he was enjoying watching you squirm and beg under his hold, "yes, angel. You are doing so good for us."

"Please, I can't! Make me cum..." you could hear the sound of him jerking off and making you even more desperate; they were free to do whatever they wanted while you had to take whatever they gave you.

"Aww, is my baby getting impatient?" The male above you smirked as he sees this and intentionally lets out loud groans, "Fuck..." He could hear you whining and the face you made looked like you were in pain. Renjun starts thrusting into his tight first, dangerously close to the edge. He bit his lower lip and forced himself to stop.

"Tell him what you want, angel."

"Fuck me. Ruin me, make me cum," you begged. you had never been more desperate in your entire life than in this very moment.

Haechan leaned over your body to leave more hickeys on your neck. "Mmh, baby is so wet for me," he said, running his fingers through your folds. He aligned himself with your heat and rubbed his length on your clit. You trembled at the sensation, trying to get him closer to you by wrapping your legs around his waist.

Haechan held onto your thighs to bring you closer and easily inserted himself inside your heat. You both moaned in unison as he pushed in slowly and dragged his cock back out before pushing back in and repeating. "Fuck."

None of your senses seemed to be working as you continued whining loudly and thrashing your head with your eyes closed, paying no attention to the almost crazed look on their faces.

"Baby, so good. Fuck, You are a poison to my mind. A sweet poison." He pronounced every word with a hard thrust, making it difficult for you to speak; you couldn't focus on anything around you, too overwhelmed by all the different sensations taking over your body. you pulled at the leather belt, nails digging into the palms of Renjun's hands.

The said man cursed in your ear, he quickly held himself up and spread his cum on your chest.

The man above you slowed down to a complete stop, making your eyes shot open. "Stop doing that, damn it!" you yell out in frustration.

you suddenly gasped in surprise when Haechan spanked your asscheek. "I'm in control here so I do as I please. Disrespect me again and I will leave you on the edge." With wide eyes, you nod frantically at the seriousness in his voice. "Answer me."

You swallow hard, flustered, "Yes."

"Behave, y/n." Renjun said beside you and pulled you in a deep kiss, muffling your noises. Haechan slowly starts thrusting again, making you choke on a moan. "God, that feels so good."

"Good. keep making those noises while I fuck you." Haechan didn't waste any time before he resumed thrusting inside at a fast pace, making you let out loud surprised moans. your hips clashed as he pounds into your wet heat, orgasms drawing closer.

" yes" you chant, followed by a series of moans. The noises made him lose control, letting out deep growls as he held onto your thighs for support and rams into you without mercy.

The bed squeaks in time with his rhythm, the sound being accompanied by the labored breathing, moans and grunts. Haechan slowed his pace but went deeper, one hand going to rub your clit to finish you off.

He grinds against you as your walls pulse around him, triggering his own climax. He quickly pulls out and releases his thick load all over your lower belly.

"Mhm, fuck yeah," Haechan leaned forward to kiss you shoulders, sticking his chest to you and nuzzling into the nape of your neck. When you try to speak something, he pulls you in for a kiss. The slow, lazy and affectionate kiss and you smiled in between.

Haechan pulled away from you, leaving your body feeling slightly cold under the touch of his brother, "Lay on the bed and spread those beautiful legs for me," Renjun ordered, licking his lips.

you, as always, followed the orders given to you but not without feeling a little embarrassed; Renjun liked the way you were complying to his orders and he smirked seeing your movements under his control.

As soon as you were lying comfortably on the bed, he went to situate himself between your legs at the foot of the bed and pulled you closer by thighs, kneading them. "Look at me," he continued giving orders, the authority in his voice making you shiver.

you lifted your upper body with the support of Haechan in order to see him, Haechan untied the belt from the wrists and your eyes widened as you watched him lift his middle and ring finger to his mouth, coating them thoroughly in saliva. your chest rises and falls rapidly as you keep watching him, while he just stares back at you with that wild hunger in his eyes, moving his tongue teasingly. He then pushes the two slick digits inside you, easing them into your wet entrance. you gasp and throw your head back into Haechan's chest, unable to control your body's response, and Renjun stops halfway, "Keep watching."

Haechan laughed and his laugh vibrated on your back. He held you down on your place, pinning your body against his chest, his length poking behind your lower back and the pleasure in front was driving you crazy. "She will be gone soon. My baby is loving this." Haechan said and laughed at your weak body in his hold.

Forcing yourself to not succumb to the pleasure Renjun was making you feel, you look at him again, licking your suddenly dry lips. Renjun's eyes flicker downwards to watch his fingers get sucked up all the way to the knuckles, his dick throbbing in want. He starts moving them in and out, scissoring them and stretching the tight walls.

you watch with hooded eyes the way his tongue pokes out from in between his teeth as he concentrates on his task, fingering her expertly.

"I want you to hold it in if you are near. Think you can do that?" you nod with furrowed eyebrows, whimpering in pleasure as his long fingers continue working their magic; they glide easily thanks to how wet you were, aroused by his dominant behavior. Haechan was trailing kisses along your neck and throat, often turning your mouth to kiss your lips.

Once your thighs start squeezing around him and you buck your hips, Renjun knew you were close to the edge. He moved his hand to replace it with his length and started to move a little faster, his warm breath hitting close to your nipples, when he sucked on them afterwards.

His hand left your thigh to go towards his mouth and he sucked on his fingers to taste you, tongue swirling around it before pulling it out and pressing it against your neglected clit. You were so into it that you didn't notice Haechan collected some of your arousal and started spreading it to your hole from the back and when you whined, he pushed himself from behind you. Renjun holding your body close to him and caressing your back. "Shh...that's it. You are doing so good for us."

Haechan groaned and held you still, the other male also stopping a bit to make you adjust, "relax. You are taking us so well. Good, baby." He caressed your sides. He planted a kiss on your shoulder and the other one who was still holding you close, kissed on your crown of the head. They started moving again, each cautiously looking at your expression, alert for your discomfort and they will stop. Haechan grabbed your breasts and squeezed them and Renjun grabbed your hips, you were clutching onto both of them for dear life.

your arms give out simultaneously as your legs begin to shake almost violently, white flashing behind your tightly closed eyelids, a loud and obscene moan leaving your lips. your back arches off the chest behind you as you are brought to the highway to heaven., tears spilling from her eyes and hands gripping him, nails digging into his skin.

"Please!" you cried out, whining loudly afterwards. your body wanted to scoot away and get closer at the same time, torn between the two. you panted in exhaustion and your body relaxes once they had stopped. they placed soft kisses all over your body, pulling out slowly. 

They lay you down between them and Haechan's hands comb through your hair while you stare at the ceiling absentmindedly, catching your breath. He whispered, "Happy birthday, Princess. I love you the most."

Before you could reply to him, Renjun turned your face towards him and kissed your lips, "Happy Birthday, Angel. I love you so much."

You glanced at the clock and it was 12' o clock, your birthday. "Thank you. I love both of you" you smiled sweetly at both of them.

"So, how was that? Feel good?" Haechan asks, a cocky smirk on his face.

"Of course it did... but " you trail off, making Haechan's smile fade into worry, "But?"

"But is it okay for us three to be together?" you asked, your face becoming warmer as you confess.

you had never done anything like this before, so you felt as if you were doing something wrong or must have gone crazy that you were liking all these things

."Don't worry, y/n, we'll be perfect with each other, promise. we'll show you all kinds of things in the future," Renjun reassured, squeezing her thigh, and giving her a sweet kiss before getting up, leaving you with Haechan.

"I'm gonna shower now. Haechan, can you freshen her up?" He asks and you whine, "don't leave me with him. Let's shower together. It's my birthday and you both have to listen to me now."

Before you could complain even more, Renjun scooped you in arms and laughed, "whatever you order, maam." you hit his chest playfully, his laugh becoming louder followed by Haechan who even started teasing you how heavy you look in his arms. Both of you glared at him and entered the bathroom.

You are glad that you are no longer in the past relationship with Wooyoung. You are out of his obsession and listened to your two best friends who stayed by your side, protected you and loved you. You are out of the toxic love. You are in a pure and innocent love.

Are you really, though?

Before Haechan could enter the bathroom, he heard a notification pop up on your phone. He stepped towards the table and unlocked to see it. He smirked at the screen, placing it back on the table top and he jogged towards the bathroom  when Renjun called out his name.

'Happy Birthday, y/n!'

        -Unknown (your love)

Love is poisoned by your innocence.

Note: please I want to thanks to people for reading and reblogging. Reviews are always appreciated. Spread love not hate. If my favoritism is showing with any of the members then please try to understand coz Hyuck is my twin🎀

Taglist: @mymoodwriting @justhere4kpop @anyamaris @yeoobin @icchyi @jwnghyuns @piratequeen-queenofgames @dinonuguaegi @oreharuuu @hwanring @sanwifesstuff @kiwiisnthereoops @kiwiraccoon @hyuukah @kazscara @aceofspadesbiofalltrades @nvdhrzn @meowmeeps @vtyb23 @haechansbbg

[open!]

[h50europe]

8.06 post mortem - Buck/Tommy - General - 9-1-1 Zombified

Many of us wondered why a cut emergency case from episode 7.04 was used. A novelty and if you look closely, you'll notice that the characters appeared very different from how they did in the rest of season 8, and the scenes felt erratic. This inconsistency is reminiscent of the writing from Andrew Meyers, who also wrote episode 7.04. However, in that episode, he had a co-writer who was clearly more talented. Episode 8.06 was poorly written compared to 7.04. Alone the scene in the beginning. Buck could have pointed out that this chick was interrupting the date he had with his boyfriend. Tommy then mentioned the Kinsey scale

Our walking encyclopedia had no idea what his boyfriend was talking about. Seriously? Also, Buck doesn't want to buy a present for their 6-month anniversary, and Tommy gives him 2 Lakers baseball cards and awkwardly mentions that Buck could go with Eddie? Is this dinner supposed to be romantic? Well, they could have gone to McDonalds. Meyers should have consulted his co-writer at this point; we're heading straight for disaster. Then Tim had this wonderful idea with Abby and thought it was hilarious. The guy's humour isn't just weird, it's kind of crude. Abby never mentioned that she went out with another guy from the 118. Isn't that weird? No one ever knew about it? Not Hen, not Chim? For two years? Did Tommy keep her locked in his basement? This plot is so poorly constructed that it's cringe-worthy at best. And that's when Himbo's jaw hit the floor… along with the audience.

The only good scene was Josh's GLEE speech. And I may be reading between the lines, but I felt that the way Josh talked about post and past GLEE and how Buck can't blame Tommy for his actions because times were different was a wink and a nod to the haters. I really had the impression that this was a cunning move to address why Tommy was who he was back then and why he has changed now.

But seconds later I nearly choked on my drink, and I can tell you it's orgasmic when a sip of Pepsi comes out of your nose, when Maddie said, "She wondered how many men Abby had turned gay." Because I was chatting to a friend before I watched the episode and I almost said the same thing. I live in Europe, so I watched it the next day, knowing what was coming, but nothing about that particular scene. Which, frankly, was terrible.

Forgive me for ignoring the emergencies in this episode. They were repetitive, to say the least, just with different protagonists.

So far we have a recycled episode, a recycled ex, a recycled emergency and a recycled scenario, Maddy is pregnant (hooray). It begins to reek of decay.

Brownie points to those who aren't already traumatised or bored to death. Now for the highlight: Tommy shows up at Buck's apartment in a great mood. He is looking forward to a date with his friend and hot sex as the icing on the cake (that's what I had in mind). Tommy gets suspicious when Buck asks him to sit down. It doesn't take long before he pulls out his phone and shows his friend photos of Abby and a younger Buck. This is followed by an awkward explanation of why he didn't share the news in the restaurant, and Tommy's reaction is a little awkward too. But this is only the overture to the worst retconning I have seen on television in a long time. The coincidence is swept under the carpet in the blink of an eye, and now it gets creepy.

Compare the scene in the coffee shop with this one. It has the same structure, bit by bit. Buck invites Tommy to the wedding in the coffee shop, and Tommy says, "What?" Here it is: "I want you to move in with me." We have a mashup of the first kiss and the coffee shop scene, and Oliver plays it similarly. The worst part is when Tommy turns into his zombie version. Excellently played by Lou. No doubt about it. He gave it his all. He maimed that shitty script, which felt like Meyers had raided AO3, picked the worst written fics and went for the most cringe-worthy insult he could find for a bisexual. "I was your first, but I won't be your last." Hello? This topic only comes to Tommy's mind after he is asked to move in together? I was expecting "I can't move in with you because I wouldn't know where to put my car lift and Muay Thai studio". No, it's because all the trust and love Tommy put in Buck is wiped out by the retconning of Tommy's personality. He succumbs to total chaos. This is not the Tommy we met in S7 and certainly not the one we met in 8.05. Fuck me! It didn't make sense. We would have needed a lot more background information ON SCREEN to make it believable. A scene from Tommy's past. Who hurt him so badly? It wasn't Abby. She only managed to traumatise Buck. Was it after he met Abby? Was it another guy?

Hello writers, are you still in your right mind? We have no clues. Neither the loyal fans and certainly not the new ones. You're reducing a character to a sad laughing stock. You rob him of all his merits, which you had Buck recite like a poem in school. And then you expect us to believe it? You steamroll over everything that's been painstakingly built up to this episode? It's actually convenient, I let the whole relationship run off screen. We don't see any flying lessons together, no training together, no cosy get-togethers in front of the TV, no exchange of affection, nothing. It's all headcanon. Guys, I've seen shows and movies where a sequence like this lasted five minutes and you knew where the couple stood. Maybe a flashback or two into Tommy's past would have helped. But no, instead the audience had to put up with the same old nonsense. A ridiculous story about an urn, a guy who sneezes and his intestines fall out, a kid who doesn't fall down a drain but slips down a pipe. They give us nothing, but we're supposed to believe everything, retconning is so great. If any of us wrote fanfiction like that, we'd be banned from AO3. And as if that wasn't enough, Tommy stands up and says, "Believe me, I didn't see this coming either. Tell me, were you on drugs when you were writing? There are a thousand ways to respond sensibly to "Let's move in together" without turning it into such a dumpster fire. The crowning glory of all this madness is when Tommy says "I'll see you around Buck" instead of Evan (the same words he said to Evan when he left him standing outside the restaurant on their first date). Where did that come from? It's as if Tommy had lost all respect for his lover, or as if he wanted to punch him in the face while he was already on the ground. We, the viewers, also had this feeling. And Tommy's behaviour was completely disturbed. I wonder if he checked himself into a mental facility right after that.

I won't say anything about the rest of the episode because I'm a polite person.

Conclusion: Please take the pen away from this lunatic and never let him write anything again or give him a co-writer like in 7.04. The guy is totally unhinged.

Extra brownies, you made it!

[chocolatemoneyrascalparty]

No because I want a 2 hour long solitaire movie. Like I want white breath coming out from mouths and freezing hands and snow absolutely everywhere and Michael Holden on his bike and him saying that he doesn't like his name either as he and Tori walk home from the pub with snowrain falling onto the pavement and stars and streetlamps above. I want Michael Holden asking why they can't be friends infront of Tori's house, dead lilacs in the garden, uneven stonewalk up through the frosty grass. I want freezing hands and snowy boots and thick winter coats and Becky's purple hair and a arm around Tori's shoulder and "Oh my god Tori you look like you want to kill yourself". Need the yellow cat sitting on a chair infront of Tori and Tori having intense eye contact in school, Tori scrolling on her phone and getting weird asks on her blog ("why do people leave newspapers on the bus?"). It's winter and cold and absolutely fucking terrible and I want Michael and Tori baking chocolate cake and jamming music in that thriftshop and just living. Need Tori going as Wednseday Addams to Becky's party and nobody really understanding who she is and I need Michael putting on beauty and the beast and them half-sleeping beside eachother and I want the dread to really fill up the scene when Becky tells Tori how she has had sex and isn't a virgin anymore. I want a 2 hour long Solitaire movie and I want it raw because holy fuck that's how it is being 16

[zorrasucia]

Teach Me Tonight - Part 3

[Part 1] [Part 2] Part 3: [Deleted Scene] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6] [Part 7] [Deleted Scene] [Part 8]

Reader x Carmy Berzatto (The Bear FX)

Rating: Explicit (5k)

Tags: Smut, Set sometime after the opening of The Bear, Porn with a little plot, Virgin!Carmy, Oral (M and F receiving), Phone sex, Dream sex, P in V sex, a sprinkle of SoftDom!Carmy at Reader's request, Both Carmy and Reader have a bit of a praise kink

Summary: With everything you had heard earlier, it seemed like sex was another facet of his life where he wouldn't let himself just enjoy stuff. "I want to make you feel good too," you insisted.

It was a foggy day, the cold of Chicago promised a quiet afternoon with few customers. Sydney showed up at the store and invited you to family, saying something about a surprise for Carmy. You quickly closed up and followed her back to the restaurant. Most of the staff knew you by now; Tina cupped your face lovingly, Nat hugged you, and Richie showed you to your seat. Everyone was there except Carmy. 

"What's going on?" you asked Nat in a whisper. 

"He didn't tell you? Of course he didn't tell you," she rolled her eyes and sighed in exasperation. "It's his birthday," she said simply.

"Oh!"

You felt a weight settle in your stomach. How could you not know? You bit the inside of your cheek, trying to hide your nervousness and stopping yourself from crying at the same time. 

"Oh, sweetie," Nat put her arm around you. "You shouldn't feel bad about it. He doesn't tell anyone. The only reason I know is because I'm his sister. We don't do presents or candles or sing because of all the- Well, you know," she gestured vaguely. You nodded. 

You didn't know the whole story but Carmy had let you know bits and pieces of his unstable childhood and the fraught relationship with his Mom, from way before Mike died.

"But Syd wanted to cook something nice for him and Marcus wanted to test a cake recipe, so," she shrugged. You managed a smile. "He'll be happy to see you," she squeezed you to her side.

"Okay, everyone start eating and act fucking normal," Richie bellowed. "We don't want the birthday boy to feel ambushed or whatever. We're having a nice meal, with our neighbor, and there's a random ass cake here for absolutely no reason, okay?"

"Your ass is random, man!" Marcus replied from the other side of the table, cutting slices of what looked like tres leches cake. Fak chuckled between forkfuls of salad.

Sydney had already started passing plates around, it was lamb and salad and it smelled delicious.

"Thanks for inviting me," you told her once she got to you. 

"I mean, you're practically family, right?" she smiled.

By the time Carmy appeared, you were all eating and talking, and he could sneak in and sit by your side almost unnoticed. 

"What's all this?" he asked, looking frantically around the room.

"They asked me to come over for family," you smiled innocently. "It's very good," you added pointing at your plate. 

"No, I mean-" he hesitated, his eyes kept searching for Nat. She was leaning against the door frame and when she saw Carmy, she put her fingers to the corners of her lips and pushed them up, to shape a smile. 'Be happy, okay?' she mouthed.

Carmy nodded, then looked down, a relieved smirk curving his lips. He tried to relax, leaning back on his seat and placing an arm behind your chair. He took the plate Richie brought him and started eating with gusto. 

"So, you know?" he asked after a while. 

"No presents, no candles, no singing," you repeated, knowing it would calm his anxiety a little. "I want to make a suggestion though."

Carmy turned his head quickly. "Yeah?" 

"Yeah," you smiled mischievously. "I think this cake should be like a staple at the restaurant. No way I'm waiting for your next birthday to have it again."

Carmy laughed. After his first bite of the cake he had to agree. "That's fire," he hummed. 

His face looked bright and lovely. Your hand didn't leave his thigh for the rest of the meal. 

You leaned against Carmy's side; he kissed the top of your head and sighed, burying the two of you deeper into the cushions of the sofa. It had been a beautiful day. With his arms around you, you asked him.

"Why don't you like presents on your birthday?"

"Uh- I'm not sure," he replied honestly. His fingers drew pretty shapes on your shoulder. "I guess if you're not expecting anything then you can't be disappointed, right?" 

"I get that," you said after a while. "I just think it's a waste that I sell vintage, and you love vintage, and you don't ask for presents, you know?" you added playfully.

He smiled. "I guess. I think I like it better when it's on a random day, for no reason at all."

"Yeah," you nodded. "Can I do something nice for you, though? Just because I want to, not because it's your birthday," you clarified.

He turned to face you. "Uh- Okay."

You disentangled from his embrace and knelt between his legs on the floor . He tilted his head in confusion. You smiled and grabbed a hair tie from your pocket, making a show of putting your hair in a ponytail. Carmy's eyes widened when your hands ran up and down his thighs, slow, sensual motions that sent shivers up his spine. 

"You don't have to-" he started protesting.

"I want to," you said.

It had come up a couple of times. You'd offer to reciprocate after he'd eaten you out and he would refuse, saying he would rather be inside you. With everything you had heard earlier, it seemed like sex was another facet of his life where he wouldn't let himself just enjoy stuff. 

"I want to make you feel good too," you insisted.

He seemed torn, one of his hands reaching to caress yours.

"You're absolutely free to say no. There's other ways we can have fun but don't say no just because you feel you don't deserve it, Carm. You do. I promise," you said earnestly. 

He bent over to kiss you fiercely. "Alright. Yes. Please," he said.

You moved slowly, undoing his belt and unbuttoning his trousers, watching the rise and fall of his chest as his breathing became more erratic. You pulled his trousers down, towards you, and started touching his thighs gently, raking your fingers through the coarse hair that went down his stomach, palming at the growing bulge over his boxers.

"Uh-" Carmy swallowed. "I have never- So if I don't last just-"

"Hey, it's okay," you reassured him. "Listen, if you last five seconds but you enjoy it, then I'm happy." 

He laughed at that and ran a hand through his hair. "I'll aim for six then," he quipped.

You removed his boxers carefully, his cock was already hard. He groaned when your breath touched his bare skin. You suspected he was right, he wasn't going to last, so you tried to make it worth his while. 

You started by kissing his head, licking the drop of precum in a quick flick of your tongue. It made him shudder with pleasure - and it made you feel powerful, the effect you had on him.

"Let me know if there's something you don't like," you said, your right hand closing loosely around his shaft. He nodded. He was hardly moving and his hands were fisting the cushions of the sofa. "You need to breathe, Carm," you reminded him, your voice had turned husky. You took one of his hands and placed it on your head, his fingers intertwined around your ponytail and you heard him exhale. "Good."

You leaned forward again, kissing around his head, making the kisses open mouthed as you went, letting him get accustomed to the feeling of your lips on him. Your hand started pumping his length, softly, no rhythm to it yet, more a caress than anything.

"You're going to fucking kill me," he rasped, his hand holding tighter to your hair, loosening the ponytail when he massaged your scalp. You moaned against his skin, which made him writhe his hips in return. 

You opened your mouth, taking the first couple of inches of him. You couldn't deep throat, but he didn't seem to mind- your hand was pumping and making up for the rest of his length. He moaned and it made your pussy tingle. 

"You sound so pretty, Carmy," you praised. He chuckled, out of breath. 

You licked the length of his shaft, wetting it enough to help your hand glide easier. You took him again, a little deeper this time, not far enough to make you gag, just enough that he threw his head back in pleasure, the veins of his neck visibly pulsing and his Adam's apple bobbing as he tried in vain to breathe normally. It was all quick gasps and the occasional groan. That was enough teasing, you decided.

You started going back and forth, the rhythm of your mouth echoed with your right hand, the left rested on his knee. He intertwined his fingers with yours, holding tight.

"Please, don't- don't stop," he begged. His face was downwards now, looking you straight in the eye, his pupils were blown and his mouth hung open. "It feels so fucking good. Please, please..."

You sped up, hollowing out your cheeks, moving your left hand so that you were sinking your nails into the muscle of his tattooed forearm. Your underwear was wet with arousal and the sounds he made weren't helping, you pressed your thighs together to get some relief and ended up moaning on his cock.

"Holy fucking shit," he gasped. "I'm sorry, I'm gonna-"

You felt him twitch inside your mouth, every muscle in his body growing tense. He groaned over and over, going quieter each time, letting go completely. Salt covered your tongue in spurts and you did your best to swallow most of it, a little bit of it fell down the corner of your mouth. You slowed down, pumping him until he pulled you off his softening cock, mumbling something about "so good" and "too much". His hand let go of your hair and cupped your face, his eyes were glazed over and blissed out, a loving look to his sweaty face. 

"So fucking good," he managed to say in an exhale. His thumb cleaned the drop of cum off your chin - so carefully, so gently that it warmed your insides. "You're beautiful."

You laughed in disbelief but then you remembered how gorgeous he looked when he emerged from in between your thighs, half of his face completely wet, a turned on blush on his cheeks...

He pulled you up on his lap and kissed you senseless, his tongue caressing your tired lips, humming contentedly into you. You were both a mess: him naked from the waist down, you with your hair completely undone and your underwear soaked.

"Best birthday I've ever had," he said against your lips, his forehead to yours. "Thank you." 

You smiled. "You're welcome. Happy birthday, Carmy." 

~

You had slowly gotten used to sleeping in a bed that smelled like Carmy. Whether it was at your place or his, even if the sheets on his side were cold they still had a hint of salt, smoke, and his expensive aftershave. 

"Get a fucking grip," you reprimanded yourself in a low voice. 

Call me when you get home? 

You sent the text before you could chicken out. He wouldn't leave the restaurant for another hour or so, so you settled on the hotel room bed, the unfamiliar cream colored covers suffocating, the sound of a movie on the TV only making you more antsy. 

When the phone rang, it was a little before midnight. You were comfortable and warm - and completely awake.

"Hey, you okay?" Carmy's voice sounded raspy on the phone. 

"Yeah, everything's fine. I just- I couldn't sleep and-" you chuckled without a hint of humor. It felt silly: it was an overnight trip, you were staying at a nice hotel, and you couldn't sleep because Carmy wasn't there. It was so fucking silly. "Never mind. I'm okay, it's late. I'll see you tomorrow night."

"Hey!" Carmy stopped you from hanging up. "Talk to me. What's up?"

"Fuck," you looked at the ceiling. "I don't know. Nothing bad happened. Actually, the estate sale went great. Uh. This lady had a big collection of dresses, fifties and sixties, beautiful pieces. And shoes! Just tons of them, barely used, Gucci and shit."

"And you got them?" Carmy asked, you could almost hear him frowning.

"Yeah! It's all good stuff and I think it will sell well too."

"That's good," he said, his tone soothing. "So, what's wrong?"

"Uh- I don't know," you repeated. "I came back to the hotel and it was so- just so fucking quiet and it feels wrong, you know?"

Carmy hummed in agreement. 

"I get it," he said after a beat. "When I got here, uh, the apartment was very fucking quiet too. Creeped me out a bit."

You sighed. Maybe it wasn't so silly.

"It helps, though," you said after a beat. "Talking with you."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," you smiled. "How was your day?"

"It was absolute shit," he replied.

"Too bad I'm not there to fuck about it," you said. 

Sometimes, when Carmy's day was too bad to even talk about, you would fuck - hard and fast - and then talk about it. Hence, fuck about it. 

Carmy chuckled. "Yeah," you could hear him exhale as he fell heavily on the couch or the bed. "That would actually help a lot."

You bit your lip, feeling your stomach flip a little. "Um, Carm?"

"Mmm?"

"I know you said you hadn't been with anyone before me-" you prompted. "Does that mean you never had phone sex either?"

He coughed loudly on the other side of the line. You pictured him choking on his own cigarette smoke, a deep blush to his cheeks. 

"Sorry?" he asked after a moment.

"I mean that we can still fuck about it... If you want," you offered. "You know, you can say what you would like to do to me, or maybe tell me what I should do... That sort of thing."

"Uh," he hesitated. "I do- I'd like to try but I- I'm not good at playing pretend, you know? Never been, not even as a kid."

"If I do the talking? Would that be better?" 

"Maybe?" his voice sounded ragged but not just from coughing. 

"I've never, uh, taken the lead before but that would, like, even out the playing field, right?" you reasoned, your heart beating faster.

"What- what would that be like?" 

"I could tell you about the nice pajamas I'm wearing," you lowered your voice. "The blue ones?"

"With the shorts and the little bows?" Carmy asked. "You look good in those..."

You opened your legs, your free hand playing with the elastic of your shorts. 

"I wish you would take them off for me, Carm. I wish you would touch me like only you know how. I want your fingers inside me," he cleared his throat on the other side of the line. "Would you like to do that?"

"Yes," his voice was breathy, "I would, yes."

"I want you to do something for me, Carmy," you started teasing between your legs over the fabric of your shorts. "Remember when we first fucked? You closed your eyes and touched yourself to get hard again. Can you do that?"

"Yeah. Yeah," you could barely hear his intake of breath and it still made you shiver.

"You looked so fucking hot, I still think about it when I finger myself," you confessed. You could picture him clearly, the veins of his arms and neck bulging, his head thrown back.

"Shit..." he rasped.

"Can you hold the phone close, Carm? I want to hear you while you touch your cock."

"I want to hear you too... Ah, fuck!"

The sound made you curl your toes with anticipation. You got your hand inside your underwear and traced lines on your folds, caressing slowly.

"I'm already so wet," you said. "Are you hard for me, Carmy?"

"So fucking hard," he drawled and you moaned.

"What would you like me to do?" you asked, trying to keep your voice steady. "If I was there, Carm, what would you like me to do?"

"Ri- Ride me," he managed. 

His breathing was a quick staccato that made your hand pick up speed, spreading wetness around your clit. You sat up on the bed, imagined Carmy underneath you, holding tight to your hips, your hands on his sculpted chest.

"How? How do you want me to- oh, God- ride you?"

"Just- hard," he groaned but it was a muffled sound, he was holding back. 

"Carm..."

"I want you to fucking wreck me," he blurted out.

If he felt like he had fucked up, like he had done something terribly wrong at the restaurant, he liked it to hurt a little, you knew that by now. Maybe the rhythm was punishing, maybe it was way too fast, maybe you denied him his orgasm for a while. Anyway, he was atoning. 

"I want you to touch you like I would, Carmy," you said. "Can you do that for me? Put lube on your hand, hold your cock tight, and go as fast as you can, okay?"

"Yes," it was barely a whisper. But suddenly you could listen - deep growls from way within his chest, rhythmic gasps that grew quicker and quicker. You struggled to catch up with him, your middle and ring fingers pumped in and out of you in tandem with his sounds. 

"Oh, fuck," he rasped. "I can hear it. Jesus Christ."

"It's not the same without you, Carm," you said honestly. Your hand was wet to the palm but you still wanted that fullness only he could make you feel. "I need you inside me, I need you."

"Oh, fuck!"

He got quiet for a second, then groaned a few times, your pussy clenching while he did. You were so close. He sighed into the speaker, relieved and spent - you wanted to be happy for him but you were still on the edge and desperate for release. You kept moaning.

"Have you come?" Carmy asked.

"Not yet," you managed to say.

"Shit."

"I'm close though. Just stay on the line, please."

You could feel it slipping out of your grasp. It wasn't enough to have him listen, you needed something to hold on to. You let out a needy whine.

He read your mind, and in that fucked out voice he said: "That was- holy shit- that was so, so fucking hot. You made me come and you didn't even touch me," you fluttered against your fingers. "Can’t believe you're mine. You're my good girl."

He had never called you that. That was it. The tension within you snapped and you could breathe again. Eyes shut and forehead to the duvet, you could almost feel Carmy's hands touching up your back, tickling at your sides. You let out a shaky laugh.

"Fuck, Carmy. Fuck," you repeated, something warm settling in your belly. 

"You okay?" he said. You had dropped the phone and you heard him far away.

You wiped your hand on your hip and settled back on the bed, tired and a little sweaty. You'd have to shower again in the morning but you found you didn't care right now.

"I'm okay," you replied when you could pick up your phone. "So okay. You?"

"So okay," he repeated with a chuckle. 

"Okay," you let out a big exhale. "Now tell me about your day."

~

You were at The Bear, it was late at night, the lights were dimmed down and there were no patrons. You turned around and found the place empty - ghostly and quiet. 

"Hello?" No one replied.

Now that you thought of it, you didn't know how you got there - couldn't remember, actually. But Carmy was suddenly there too, hands on his hips, wearing his pristine chef's whites. The blue of his eyes popped with the ambience lighting in a way that felt supernatural.

"Carmy," you called but he didn't move.

"On the table," he said brusquely, pointing with his head at the only piece of furniture left in the restaurant. There was no tablecloth or cutlery on it.

"What?" you asked.

"On the fucking table!" he yelled and you obeyed, sitting quickly on it, facing him.

"What's going on?" you asked.

He laughed - it wasn't his usual laugh, soft and floaty - it was a cruel sound, glass like. 

"What's going on, sweetheart, is that I'm going to fuck you, on this table, until you come three times," he said and it sent a shiver down your spine. "Or until you beg me to stop, whatever happens first."

You didn't say a word, you couldn't: he kissed you violently, biting on your lip and grabbing your throat. 

"Carmy, holy shit! Slow down," you pleaded when you parted to catch your breath. 

He stopped but only to spread your legs wide open, his fingers digging into your thighs forcefully, then going up your skirt. He leaned to whisper in your ear:

"You sure you want that?"

His voice was low, caramel like, delicious. You ran a hand up his chest, fisting white fabric, bringing him closer. 

"Good," he said. His fingers shoved your underwear to the side and teased mercilessly.

"Fuuuck," you whined as he made you melt in his hands. 

He was touching you just right, having you soaked and pliant so fast it left you dizzy. He thrust two fingers inside you and started pumping fast, his thumb circling your clit - you thanked your stars that you had showed him early on where it was. Your moans grew louder and longer.

"Are you gonna cum for me?" he asked but it sounded like an order. 

You nodded frantically. 

"Are you gonna let me bend you over this table, fuck your pussy as hard as I want?" 

"Yes, please, fuck," you whined. 

Just before the knot within you could unravel, the bright light of morning rushed through the window and made you squeeze your eyes and cover your face. And suddenly you weren't at The Bear, you were at Carmy's place, warm in his bed. It was Sunday, you remembered.

"Oh, fuck," you mumbled. 

Carmy was right next to you, twisting to face you as he woke up too.

The mornings you shared were few and far between, the occasional day off, the days when you had to get up early to take a train for a sale out of town... They were precious, you loved to see Carmy with sleepy eyes, reaching out for you from under the covers. You smiled and stared at him. 

"Morning," you said, feeling a little weird about your dream. 

"Mornin'," he slurred with his eyes closed. "You sleep okay?" 

"Uh-huh," you tried to sound casual. "You?"

"Yeah," you let him pull you in closer, his nose brushed the side of your neck. And his hard on brushed your thigh. 

"Oh!" your heart raced - the one thing that still remained from your dream was the wetness between your legs.

"Shit," Carmy covered his face with his hand. "I'll, uh, I'll take care of it. Don't worry about it."

You cleared your throat nervously. "Actually-"

You didn't know where to begin so you simply grabbed his hand and showed him how wet you were, even through your underwear he could tell. His eyes widened.

"Wh- What- Why?"

"Uh, I dreamt of you," you said simply. 

"What about?" he asked. You shrugged. "I mean, if you liked whatever happened in your dream that much, we could..." he let the offer float. He had that curious look about him.

You bit your lip. It had been good, so good. But it made you feel a little embarrassed about the things that you wanted, what they meant about you.

"We were- Well, you fingered me and- yeah," you hoped he would be satisfied with that. 

"Oh," he sounded a little disappointed but he obliged. "Sure, we can do that." 

He scooted closer still, his hand and the way he moved was gentle and sweet. And completely wrong. You took his wrist and stopped him.

Carmy looked up in concern. "Did I hurt you?"

You shook your head. "I'll- I'll tell you about my dream but promise me you won't laugh," you pressed your hands on his chest. He nodded solemnly. "Even if we don't end up doing it because it's not your thing just- Don't laugh, okay?"

"I won't," he promised. 

"Okay," you took a deep inhale. "So I dreamt that we were at the restaurant. We were all alone, it was late at night and you- Well, you told me to get on a table and that you would make me come three times," you blushed furiously. "You kissed me and you fingered me. You said you would bend me over on the table and fuck me hard. And then I woke up."

"Shit," Carmy said.

"Yeah."

"Was I- Was I different?" he asked. 

"You were a little mean."

"And you were into it?" nothing about his tone betrayed disgust or revulsion.

"I didn't think I would be, but yeah," you replied honestly. 

Carmy ran a hand through his hair and stared at you for a little bit.

"You know I'm not good at the pretending thing," he said and you nodded. "But I think I can fuck you on the table until you come three times."

You felt like you had the wind knocked out of you. 

Before you knew it, you were both naked, kissing in the middle of his kitchen, his hands under your thighs as he placed you on the table. 

"I'm gonna need you to keep count for me," he said, lowering to his knees between your legs. That was the last thing he said before devouring you.

You knew Carmy was competitive but you didn't know it would extend to a dream version of him. He became laser focused: his only goal was to be a better lover than dream Carmy, make you come undone faster and harder than he ever could. Without preamble, he hooked two fingers inside you, curling non-stop, making you gasp for air. His mouth worked tirelessly licking and sucking at your clit, getting satisfaction every time you pulled at his hair. In minutes, he had you bucking your hips frantically, trying to fuck his face. You screamed and heaved and cursed, grabbing to the edge of the table for dear life. 

"How many?" he demanded once he got up from between your legs, wiping his face clean with his forearm. His voice sounded rough and you could see a glimpse of the cut-throat chef he used to be back in New York. You felt the aftershocks of your orgasm go through you one more time. 

"One," you replied.

He grabbed your hips and brought you down from the table, then flipped you over. You heard the condom wrapper hit the floor, then, immediately felt his breath on the back of your neck as he lined up his cock to your pussy. He wasn't careful before and he wasn't careful now, going all the way inside you in a swift motion. It was pleasure and pain in even measures, it was exactly what you asked for. Your knees trembled underneath you but Carmy held you upright. 

"Holy shit," was all you could say before succumbing to the rhythm of his hips against yours.

It was slow, purposeful. One of his hands played with your nipples while the other pressed on your clit. It was too much. You took the hand on your clit and placed it on your neck instead, remembering the way Carmy had kissed you in the dream, holding you possessively. Your Carmy didn't press at all, he caressed the column of your throat with careful fingers, kissed the side of it with devotion. It made you melt onto the tabletop. The feeling of your bare chest on the wooden surface and the sound of his hips clapping against yours turned you on even more. It took you by surprise when you started fluttering on Carmy's cock, your release almost gentle, a series of soft needy moans the only outer indication that you had come.

When you regained your bearings, your cheek to the table and your ass up in the air, you said with an unsteady voice:

"Two."

One of his hands soothed down your spine, a silent question being asked: Do you still want to go on? Can you do one more? You reached for his hand and squeezed it, using the strength you had left to get off the table and turn to face Carmy. He was a sweaty mess, curls falling on his forehead, red in the face from edging his orgasm to give you three. You didn't think you could love anyone more than you loved him right then.

"Carmy."

"I'm here. I'm right here," he maneuvered you gently to lay on your back over the table, his eyes on yours. You hummed contentedly. He lifted your legs, placing one on each shoulder and giving you a shy smile - you realized he had actually read the sex book you had bought him as a joke. You giggled. He didn't do anything in half measures. 

This time, his motions weren't calculated and cold. The tenderness when he soothed your back and caressed your neck had bled into everything else. His hips stuttered every now and then, his fingers touched your ankles gently, and his eyes were fixed on you. It was perfect. 

"I'm close," you whispered, one of your hands playing with your chest, the other reaching behind you to the edge of the table. You felt weightless. "You can let go, Carmy."

It was all a blur: the swirl of electricity down your body, the beautiful sounds that you made together, and the feeling of him falling on top of you. 

"Shit! I'm sorry I'm crushing you," he mumbled on your skin, his arms flexing as he lifted himself up. You looked up at him and cupped his face, the post-coital glow and the morning light making him look angelic.

"Thank you," you said and he smiled. "It was good, better than I imagined."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Right then, your stomach growled audibly. You covered your face with your hands, mortified. He peeled them off and leaned to nuzzle against your cheek. 

"Pancakes?" he offered in a whisper.

You laughed and turned your head to kiss the tip of his nose. "Yes. Please."

[Deleted Scene]

[Part 4]

[piss-pumpkin]

🌹“Just as friends”🌹

(Older)Dipper pines x reader, Chapter 3 of Douce amere

~4.5k words

Prev Masterlist

Tw for those who need it- food/eating, several awful sex jokes 💀

You jolted awake. Pacifica’s alarm was loud, and she did not silence it soon enough. She rolled out of bed beside you, falling to the floor before standing up. “Food?”

You rubbed your eyes, “Got an extra tooth brush?”

”Yeah,” she muttered, voice hoarse. “Then food.”

                                     ��     …

Pacifica led you to the main foyer, where housekeepers and maids were setting up tables. Some held food, others simply face table cloths for people to mingle at. 

“And you lied to me and said this was small and unimpressive,” you said, staring in wonder at the scene. There was a rather large dessert table, complete with a chocolate fountain and strawberries on sticks.

”Yeah, whatever I guess. It’s a little big if you aren’t used to better.” Pacifica showed you to the kitchen, where a cake of at least five layers was sat, completely iced in orange and pink frosting. “Anyway, there’s breakfast if you want it,” she said, grabbing a bowl from the cupboard. “Are you a morning eater?”

You yawned, “Eh, I can be. What do you got?”

She opened the fridge and pulled out a carton of strawberries, and started to wash them. “Pretty much everything,” she said, pouring her berries into the bowl.

You squinted. It was far to early to think about what you could possibly want, if anything. “I’ll just have what you’re having, I guess.”

Pacifica poured the other half of the strawberries into a second bowl, and handed it to you. “Let’s get out of here, it’s too busy.”

You started back upstairs with her to her room, trying not to get in the way of preparation. As you walked, you felt your phone buzz in your pocket. Pulling it out as you ascended the stairs, you saw it was Dipper. You smiled. 

“Dip is asking the dress code, he apparently didn’t bring anything fancy,” you laughed. “He wants to know if he can just wear his normal clothes.”

Pacifica smirked, “he can’t be serious, right?” She flopped onto her bed, and held the bowl of strawberries by her chest. 

You followed behind, and sat down with her. “Man, you know he’s fucking serious,” you said, looking down at your phone and beginning to make fun of him over text.

”Well tell him we’ll supply him with something, I guess,” she said, looking at her closet. “You know I have guy clothes.”

You looked down and idly typed the message. “We’re making him wear a suit right?”

Pacifica smiled, “Yep. Tux, I think. probably bow tie?”

”I was thinking regular tie, I feel like that’s a better look.”

Pcifica thought a moment, and popped a strawberry in her mouth. “I dunno… maybe you’re right,” she pondered. “We could make him try both and decide which is better?”

You nodded, “sounds good.” You ate a strawberry. Quite sweet. You let the leafy tops collect at one side of the bowl. “So do you still like… like him?”

Pacifica looked up, “I mean… kind of. The same way i would after not seeing him in person for like, a year.” She pursed her lips, as if straining her mind for the thought. “I dunno. I think about him less when he’s away. But the feeling is still there, kind of?”

You nodded. Her feelings were a little different then yours, but the same sentiment. 

“What about you, you still-“

”Yep. Awful, too,” you shook your head, eating another strawberry. You squinted your eyes, and sucked a breath in through your teeth, “I am absolutely down bad.”

“My condolences,” Pacifica sighed. “We’ve all been there

You laughed, “At least we agree he’ll look really cute in a suit.”

Pacifica threw her head back on the pillow. “Ugh, right? We gotta dress his ass up.”

You smiled, “I’m also curious about what Mabel is doing, I think she is making her own dress.” You plucked your last strawberry off its stem. “I think she made it in like, a night. She could be cooking.”

”Or it could be a disaster, and we have to find her a last minute dress.”

”That is an equal possibility, I think.”

                                             …

Pacifica and yourself were waiting by the door as the party was starting. There were people, standing, mingling. Nobody interesting, not yet. Though by the way Pacifica was talking, you weren’t sure there was anyone interesting on the roster besides you and the twins. 

Much to both of your surprise, Mabel’s dress was fine. Good, even, shocking as it was. She came in first, wearing a blue dress with a shocking amount of sequins  for how little time it took. 

Dipper followed behind his sister, dressed in nothing fancy, and looking rather out of place among the few guests that had arrived this early. You and Pacifica waved the pair over. Mabel bounced closer, running ahead of Dipper and greeting you both with a wide smile, “Wow, you guys look amazing!”

You pumped your fists in the air with excitement. “You too, I can’t believe you made that!” you exclaimed, looking her dress up and down. “You’re insane!”

Mabel giggled, and twirled in a small circle, letting her skirt lift and spin. “Just insane enough,” she laughed.

Pacifica snickered, “That’s highly debatable.”

Just as Mabel was about to retort, Dipper came up beside her, and leaned his arm on her shoulder. “It’s true Mabel, she’s right.”

Pacifica eyed up Dipper, “Yeah, Dip, hopefully you know you’re not going to be wearing that, right?”

Dipper sighed, “yeah, I know, I know.”

Pacifica looked to you, “We take him to get changed before the rest of the guests arrive?”

You nodded. 

Mabel laughed, and hit Dipper on the back. “Alright, you go get prettied up, bro.” She smacked him once more before bouncing off of him, “I’m gonna get punch, and get a date.” With that she was off, as Dipper was giving her a mildly annoyed look. 

You and Pacifica led him to the back, where Pacifica handed him a hanger with his clothes. “Okay,” she looked to you, “Y/n, help him if he needs it, change room is on the right, and I need to go greet people.”

You nodded, “Godspeed.”

”And good luck,” Dipper added.

And then you were alone with your just as friends date. “Alright, you get ready, there’s a tie and a bow tie, too, your pick.”

Dipper entered the change room, and closed the curtain behind him. “Mmmk,” he said. 

You leaned on a wall, waiting. “Did you read ahead without me, last night?” you asked, idly looking around.

”No, actually, I wasn’t sure if we were reading it together, so I played it safe,” he said though the curtain. You could hear faint rustling sounds from the other side. “Are we?”

You nodded, despite the fact that he couldn’t see you, “Yeah, it’s book club.” You straightened your back against the wall, and tapped your foot on the ground. “Thanks for waiting for me,” you smiled, “Also hurry up.”

”I am hurrying.”

You laughed, shaking your head, “This is not was hurrying looks like.”

You heard faint grumbling from him before Dipper emerged from the change room in a suit. With a black tie. The one you had chosen… but he didn’t know that. You smiled, “Well, you look good, all fancy like.” 

He adjusted the sleeves and fiddled with the cuffs. “Uh- thanks,” he said, smiling softly. He closed the curtain behind him, and looked away from you, to the floor. “Y-you too, I forgot to mention earlier…”

You raised your brow, smiling. He was still looking at the floor away from you, so you moved in front of him, and leaned over slightly, forcing him to see you. “Why thank you,” you snickered. “I better look good, it took Pacifica all night to style me.”

Dipper stepped back slightly, face pinkish. “I assume she’s responsible for this, too?” he said, gesturing at his own clothes.

You stood back up tall, “I want to say you were a team effort, actually.” You took his wrist in your hand, and turned it over so you could see the sleeve. “The cuff links were my pick,” you said, tapping them. “Same with the tie”

Dipper instinctively moved is hand to his chest, and thumbed over the tie. “Well chosen, it’s really soft,” he said. 

You smiled, spinning away from him and offering your hand. “I’m actually surprised you were able to tie it without help, I was ready to call Pacifica in to do it for you.”

Dipper took your hand, and gave it a slight squeeze. “I actually looked it up while I was in there,” he laughed, pulling your hand closer to him, and linking your arms. 

You both started out to the main room, “God, that’s why you took so long in there?” you asked. You came to the foyer, which was now filled with a substantial amount of people, and you knew even more were set to come. 

“Wow, lots of people…” Dipper said, trailing off. “Where did Mabel and Pacifica go?”

You looked around, taking in the scene. The tables you’d seen the staff setting up before were now filled with food, or set with chairs for dining and mingling. Gentle orchestral and piano music was playing, and several people were dancing a waltz. “Pacifica is gonna be busy for a while, she has to socialize,” you said, scanning the room for your friends. “And it appears Mabel had been lost to the party.”

Dipper sighed, shaking his head. “Of course she is, we’re not gonna see her for a while, are we.”

”No we will not,” you said, walking with him along the edge of the room. “I bet she’s looking for somebody to dance with,” you pondered. “Hey, we should dance.”

Dipper looked at you, curiously. “Y/n, neither of us know how to waltz.”

You took Dippers hand, gliding your fingers up his palm before lacing them together. “Come on, it can’t be that hard, right?” 

His hand was sweaty, and his face was slightly red. “Y/n, I think you are seriously underestimating my awkwardness,” he said. Despite it, he let you lead him to the floor, where people were dancing in step.

”I’m sure your fine, nobody really knows how to dance,” you laughed. 

Dipper closed his eyes and shook his head, curling his face into a perplexed expression when he opened them. “What the actual fuck do you mean?” He used his head to gesture around the room. “Literally everyone here knows how to dance, that is what they are all dancing.”

You sighed, still smiling. “Come on, all you need is rhythm, I think.” You placed his hand on your waist, and your in his shoulder. “I think this is how it goes, yeah?” You looked around, scanning the other dancers in the room. They were mostly adults and old people, all of whom looked rich. But they did have the same positioning as you. “Yeah, I think we’ve got this.”

”Y/n, I have no rhythm,” he said. You could feel the warmth from his palm on your hip. It was light too, like he was afraid of putting the weight of his hand on you. “Plus this is a rich old person song.” He was stiff, as if his knees were locked. The hand you still held was shaky, the vessel for his anxious movements. You rubbed your thumb over his to try and calm him. Or at least offer some courage.

“Then let me lead,” you said softly. You started to move, and pull him along to the music. You looked around and tried to mimic the dancing of others. “Hey, this isn’t that bad, you’re fine.” 

He was still apprehensive, stiff. “I, uh-“ he almost tripped, stepping on your foot. “Sorry.”

You shook you head, “Don’t be, probably my fault,”  You smiled a moment, “you see, not so hard.”

“Not what your mom was saying last night,” he spat quickly.

You shook your head, hiding your tired smile. “Just couldn’t resist, huh?” You said, gliding across the room, still leading. You saw an old man dip his partner, and gained an idea. 

As you led Dipper, you started to take more control. You knew if you tried to dip him out of the blue, he’d resist. You wouldn’t be able to. Unless…

You moved toward the edge of the dance floor, in case it went wrong, and to both fell on the ground. As you did, you stood straight up and tall, and swept the leg.

”Augh-“ Dipper tried to form a word, but was too late. You swept one leg, leaving him vulnerable to be pushed down with the free, non catching hand. As he fell, that hand slipped under his back to stop him before he hit the ground.

You smirked down at him, holding him there for a moment before pulling him up. 

His eyes were wide, and face slightly red. Though that could have been from fear. “You realize my life just flashed before my eyes, right?” He blinked a few times, as if reacquainting himself with standing. 

You started again to the centre. “Whaaaat?” you laughed. Across the floor you saw another move, a spin this time. 

Dipper noticed too though, and followed your eyes across the room, landing in the same couple. “Oh, don’t even thing about it.”

You snickered, “you know me too well.” You still intended to do it. As you subtly moved your hands across his to reposition to spin him, he caught you off guard. He must have been watching the motion of the dancers too, because he threw his arm out to try and spin you. Unlike you, he didn’t have the tactical skill to force the spin, like you did the dip, but you were one to play the game. As he led you, you spun out, then back in close, placing your chest nearly against his. “Hey, man’s got moves!”

”Heh, thanks,” he stuttered, intensely aware of the new closeness.

You were aware of it too. You smirked, almost feeling the heat from his face. Your hands glided smoothly away from his and to the back of his neck, where you laced your fingers together. “And you were worried,” you smiled. 

He was looking at you with wide eyes, and slightly parted lips. They caught your attention, your gaze flickering from his big brown eyes down to his slightly pink lips. Fuck, you were not subtle today. Dipper swallowed, “Yeah… nothing to worry about. You wouldn’t let me fall.”

You snickered, “Oh, I’d let you fall, alright.” You looked at him with an almost shit eating grin. A pun-smile, so to speak. “Get it, it has a double meaning.”

Dipper flushed. “Uh, I mean-“

You were blushing too, you could feel it. To close. To much, to hard. You backed out, pulling away from his chest. ”Or maybe it just means I’ll do this,” you say, sweeping his leg again and barely catching him on the way down. He let out a startled sound again, having been caught only inches from the floor. Just as you were leaned over him, about to pull him up, you let him fall to the floor. “Like that.”

Dipper grumbled, laying with his back on the ground for a moment, as if in protest. “You know,” he started, exasperated. The blush wasn’t completely faded from his face, but it was close.

As he moved to get up, you put a hand out in front of him to help him. He looked at it a moment with pursed lips before taking it. You pulled him up. “But hey, who could ever resist falling in love with me,” you said, punctuating your claim by putting your hand beneath your chin to frame your face.

“Literally nobody, you’re so effortlessly charming,” he said, sarcastically. He took your hand again, and pulled you close to his chest like before, and started to dance again. Looks like you got through to him? Or he’s humouring you. Either way. You moved your feet with his, letting him lead. It didn’t seem like he even realized it was you following him now.

You shrugged, “Hey, your words.” Your hands found their way back to his neck. You felt the brush of his hair on your fingers, and lingered on the feeling. His hair was soft.

“Are they really though?”

”That doesn’t even make sense, Dippin dots,” you shook your head. 

Dippers face flattened, “oops,” he said, stepping on your foot. 

“Hey!” you exclaimed playfully. 

“Deserved,” Dipper sighed. The song ended. Come to think of it, it wasn’t the song you started on.

“Those are fighting words, Dipstick.” You thought for a moment as Dipper led you along the floor. He wasn’t all that bad at this. “I could…” you hesitated, and laughed at yourself as you said it. “Pull your hair, or something,” you said, fingers trailing up his neck to brush against his locks. Smooth.

Dipper laughed immediately, and then feigned shock and horror. He gasped, “You can’t! What if I cum!”

You stifled a laugh, pulling away, and gut punched him playfully. “Jesus Christ, you are awful. Like downright terrible, that physically hurt me.” You shook your head, and turned away from him to hide your smirk. Fucking terrible.

“Obligatory masochism joke?” He questioned.

You turned back to him, “Nah, that one’s a stretch.”

Dipper shook his head, “You’re just a critic, I swear.” He folded his arms at his chest. “Honestly, your comedy is lacking,” he scoffed with faux condescension. 

You sighed, smiling despite yourself. “Yeah, whatever, you absolute comedian.” You shook your head, looking at the floor to avoid his eyes. You snaked your arm around his, unfolding it from the other, “You can tell me all about how funny you are on the way to the snack table, yeah?”

Dipper easily linked his arm with yours, “Good plan.”

                                              …

You lingered with him near the chocolate fountain, showing dessert strawberries in your mouth. There was no getting sick of strawberries, was there?

”Y/n, Y/n, look over there,” Dipper said, poking you. You followed his eyes, and landed on Mabel across the room, flirting with a rich looking guy. You squinted, trying to read the reaction of the guy. 

“Mabel? What, who is that?” You said, curious.

”What? No,” he said, shaking his head. He pointed this time, and moved your head to direct your eyes in the direction. “Cheese fountain.”

”Cheese fountain?” You asked, unsure where he was going. The phrase cheese fountain did not evoke a good feeling from you. The concept didn’t seem appetizing. 

“Cheese strawberry, I dare you.”

You opened your mouth, in some sort of surprise. “Oh, you bitch, why would you dare me that?”

He snickered, “cuz you‘ll do it.”

You pursed your lips, turning to him, pointing to him with malice. You sighed, “you’re right, I ain’t no pussy, come on.” He smiled, taking your arm again to move tables, a few sticks of strawberries held in his free hand. 

The two of you stopped just short of the table, and stared down the cheese fountain. You almost wanted to out your hand in it, just to feel the texture. You held back though. “Looks kind of gross,” you muttered.

”It sure does,” Dipper said, handing you a skewered strawberry, bowing his head slightly as he did. 

You held the strawberry under the drilling and flowing cheese, drenching it. You weren’t no bitch, despite the fact that the texture was strange. 

“Damn, you’re drowning it,” Dipper commented, watching. 

You stared at the strawberry after you pulled it out. A droplet of thick and slightly warm cheese fell to the floor at your feet. “Only way to go is all in,” you said, about to pop it in your mouth.

You vaguely heard footsteps come closer beside you.  “What are you doing?” Pacifica said, approaching.

”Uhh,” You and Dipper both stammered in unison. You looked down at the cheese berry, then at him. Sharing a moment of contemplating eye contact, you decided to speak first. “Chesee strawberry, any thoughts?”

Pacifica scrunched her face, and receded into herself. “Yeah, just one. Why?”

You wordlessly pointed at Dipper, and you both could see Pacificas face change as she realized it was a rather stupid dare. It changed from mild disgust to a tired disappointment. “Yeah, maybe don’t do that,” Pacifica said, sucking in a breath though her teeth.

Dipper crossed his arms, “Dude, it’s liquid cheese, it’s nasty.”

Pacifica sighed, “Yeah, I know, but the old people like it.” She tilted her head up and looked around the room, scanning the crowd of her parents friends and their children. “Can’t imagine why,” she said. 

You perked up, “Oh speaking of, are you done with your parents friends?”

Pacifica clapped her gloved hands together, “For now, yes!”

You gasped, and leaned over to offer her a hand. “Then may I be the first to offer you a dance,” you said, doing your best impression of a snobbish voice.

She took it, “Why, I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

She led, much more skillfully then you or Dipper ever did. At the centre of the foyer, she swung you and spun you with a practiced perfection you might envy. 

“You’re good at this,” you said, in slight wonder. 

“I’ve had to go to these parties since I was like, three,” she laughed. “If have to be a good dancer by now.”

You got a few looks from the guests, some of which said a quick hello or happy birthday to Pacifica. She tried to keep it brief, not even slowly the dance to speak with them. 

As you were gliding around the floor, she looked back to the food table. ”So, do I have your blessing to dance with Dip?” she asked coyly.

You laughed, “yeah, of course. I’ll tag him in soon.” You may be his just as friends date, and have feeling for him, but you wouldn’t be a bitch about it. Who were you to try and stop her? You were friends with both of them first and foremost. “I should probably find Mabel anyway, make sure she’s not being weird to anyone.”

Pacifica snickered, “I’m almost a hundred percent sure your late on that, I can feel it.”

”There’s no harm in trying though, yeah?” You said, gliding closer to where Dipper was collecting snacks on his plate like he was a starving man on death row getting his last meal. You waved at him to try and catch his attention, “Dipshit! Tag in for me!” you called. 

He looked over, holding a bun in his mouth. You could see his expression fall slightly, reliving his hesitancy to dance from earlier. 

You got closer with Pacifica, so nobody had to yell. Pacifica let go of your hands, and stopping in front of him. “Come on, I actually know how to dance, and won’t let you make a fool of yourself.”

Dipper snickered, and nudged you slightly. “You’ll let me keep my dignity? Y/n could learn something from you,” he said, taking her hand. 

You smiled, “hey, I didn’t do you that bad, did I?”

“Ehhhh,” he said, squinting. “Up for debate, I think.”

”Yeah, whatever nerd,” you laughed. You snapped a finger gun at the two of them before they moved away from you. Off to find Mabel.

Unsurprisingly, she was trying to flirt. You found her trying to kabedon a rich looking guy about your age. She didn’t see you as you approached, but he did, and made pleading eye contact with you. Yikes.

You scrunched your face, and shook your head. You leaned on the same wall as the guy, and looked to Mabel. “May I cut in for a dance?”

Mabel squinted, “with whom?”

You bowed, and offered a hand, “The lovely lady, of course.”

She gasped, “Why, I’m enchanted.” She spoke in a posh British accent, “of course, I’d love that.”

She released the guy and took your hand. You glanced to the fleeing rich dude, who offered you a nod of thanks. You nodded back, happy to save him. Gliding to the dance floor with her, you sighed, “Girlie, he was not into you.”

”I think he was warming up,” she said, leading the dance. 

“Dude, you gotta learn some boundaries.”

She pursed her lips, “Are you sure he wasn’t into me?”

You laughed, “dude, yes. He looked terrified.”

                                             …

The party went on. Cake was cut, dances were had, as it stretched deeper into the night, the music shifted from waltzing classics to more current songs. Songs you could actually dance to, competently this time, with Mabel by your side immediately, Pacifica quick to follow, and Dipper reluctant to join. But you made him. And he danced endearingly awkwardly, much worse without the clear and define steps of a waltz to guide him.

And unfortunately, despite what you felt in the moment, the party did eventually end. When it was just you and your friends left, and you all crashed. 

And in the early afternoon when you all woke, you, Mabel and Dipper did not want to stay and help clean up. Pacifica was quite understanding. 

And so, you were started home. The instructions Stan gave you were simply to borrow a car and drive the twins yourself illegally. He was a great driving instructor. So you loaded them into the car, drove them to the shack.

”You coming?” Dipper asked, seeing how you weren’t getting out after you pulled in.

“Fuck no,” you laughed, “I’m taking a nap at home man.”

A flicker of disappointment crossed his face. He looked back at the door Mabel already disappeared through, then back to you. “Then do you want the book club book, so you can catch up before we read next?”

You smiled, “yeah, actually. I think context might help my understanding.”

”Okay, hold on, I’ll grab it from my room,” he said, starting to the shack. “Don’t go anywhere.” You leaned back in the seat, and waited. Soon enough Dipper was scurrying back out, book in hand.  “Alright, here, now we’ll be on the same level,” he said, leaning against the open car window.

”And this is a series?”

Dipper nodded.

”Then I’m excited for book club going forward,” you said, yawning. “Anyway, I’m fucking off, see you later?”

Dipper waved slightly, pushing himself off the car, “Alright, see ya.”

You blew a kiss at him, making an exaggerated mwah sound while winking. He shook his head, hiding a smile as you drove off.  

Next chapter

Man I wrote this in like March it’s weird looking at it again.

[shotmrmiller]

i love reading your all works and absolutely love the pornstar! au. i’ve never sent an ask before but reading all the previous drabbles and asks i could help but think about that fated time when reader and ghost have to film a scene again.

theres really not any plot for the video they are supposed to film. the studio just wants another viral scene with the two of them. so they fly them out to a nice location, rent out a gorgeous house with plans to have the two of them fuck on every surface they can.

everything seems to be going well since the last time actually spoke to one another. ghost trys to playfully apologize for picking up the phone while he was having sex (wether he meant to or not) and the reader just accepts it with a smile. he thinks everything is going great until they actually start filming and the moment he slips into her, he knows some is off.

shes making noises, moaning and whining like she usually does but the pitch is off. she isn’t clenching around him in the way that he remembers, in fact she isn’t clenching at all, even though she looks like shes enjoying it. he’s balls deep in her when it hits him like a ton of bricks, shes faking it.

his brain is tryna keep up with everything thats happening around him. the lights, cameras, and (the lack of) sensations all around him, almost become too much to handle in that moment. that would probably be the first time in a long time that he had to push himself to finish.

sorry if this has to many grammatical errors or anything like that, im on my phone rn. but yeah that was in my mind lmao. again love your work 😘

heheheheh ur evil!!!

i love it!!!

and maybe he asks for a cut, he can't do this.

"what's wrong, Ghost?"

how does he bring up the fact that you're dry? he knows what you feel like in the throes of your pleasure, and this isn't that.

"you're not aroused, love. maybe i can use my mouth?"

your laugh is forced. it makes his skin crawl.

"no, that's alright. maybe some lube?"

it's a blow to his ego. what, is his tongue not good enough anymore? his fingers not doing the trick?

is he getting old?

"nothing personal, yeah?"

no. it's everything personal and he tells you so.

"mmmm, no, no i don't think it is. This is work, see. A job. So take your viagra or whatever, get the warm lube and let's get this done. You can lie back and think of london."

he does. he lets you do all the work, hates that your pussy isn't drooling on him like it usually does, your moans and cries so high-pitched and fake, they grate his ears.

he digs his fingers into the meat if you arse as you bounce on his cock and when he comes, it's with your face behind his eyelids, from the first time he took you.

you also pull out as he comes, painting only his tightened stomach with his spend, warm on his skin.

your coquettish smile sets his teeth on edge.

fake fake fake

so fucking fake.

when the director calls it, youre shooting up off the bed, leaving him to clean himself up.

"i'm gonna order some food, you want some?"

as if he could eat with the nausea that rolls through him.

"no? allllrighty."

when he gets a text of his main squeeze, it clicks.

he can't get his cake and eat it too.

[cranberryjuice-posts]

Guess I ruined us pretty bad

Pairings - singer! Abby Anderson x ex! Fem! Reader

An - this is my second modern au Abby FIC// Abby is like Girl in red

Abby laid down on the bed in her hotel room. She had just finished another show on her country tour. At this point in the tour Abby didn’t even really care what state she was in just as long as the show went smoothly. The rest of the band was in different rooms most likely with some groupies, Abby however was alone.

She knew if she wanted she could easily find someone to sleep with, she was the Abby Anderson but she didn’t want anyone.

Abby sat up and opened her phone going to Instagram, she went onto her stalker account and soon found your account in her following..

You two had a shitty break up half a year ago when Abby’s career really started to take off.. she scrolled for a moment before clicking onto your live.

—

You were in your kitchen with Ellie Jessie and Dina, all of which was cooking sweets with you.

Jadenxoxo - “Are you still with Abby”

You read the message and sighed. “No sadly she had bigger plans than our relationship I still like her music though her new song is amazing”

“Her music is shit” Dina scolded. Before you could defend her Jessie and Ellie stepped in.

“You still listen to her music? Y/n we talked about this” Jessie sighed, while handing some batter to Dina to put in the cake pan.

“I don’t give a shit I still hate Abby after she got into that fight with Joel” Ellie scoffed. Now finally able to talk you rolled your eyes, “yeah well Joel’s not innocent in that either he had hit jerry during the bondfire, abby was only standing up for her dad”

“Whatever” Ellie Bit back before walking to Dina and grabbing her hips watching as she made the cake.

You rolled your eyes and continued to talk to people in your comments.

—

Abby smiled seeing you defend her. She watched until the live ended.. her phone went dark, she just sat in the darkness trying to get over the fact you two were done.

She opened her phone again this time pulling up your number, it had been months since she had last had sex. The last time being with you.. after your breakup she had just traveled with the band being happy as long as she wasn’t in your state.. she wanted to call you.

Wanted to apologize and maybe even offer to fly you out but she knew herself.. she just wanted to get off over the phone with you. Abby sighed and turned her phone off throwing it aside before laying down.. she didn’t want to be that person that called you up when she needed a quick fuck but she knew that’s who she was becoming..

————

You were sitting in a diner with your friends enjoying your meal. You looked over and felt a sense of dread seeing abby on a billboard promoting her new concert.

Dina noticed and shook her head. “I think she should stay out of Jacksonville, can’t believe she actually scheduled a concert for here”

The group agreed but you didn’t. “Y/n.. don’t tell me your thinking of fixing things with her” Ellie warned as if you said yes she was going to jump across the table and beat your ass..

You kept quiet for a moment. “It would be nice to see her again”

“And she’ll break your heart again— y/n you desevere better than her” Jessie added his two scenes.. “Abby’s not like tha—“

“Then Why did she tell you you were a condensing bitch for not going on tour with her?!” Ellie yelled but soon Quieted down as the diner looked over. “Next time I see that blonde haired bitch I’m kicking her ass”

“She didn’t call me a condensing bitch els”

“Sure”

Your friends continued to batter Abby all the while you just kept quiet thinking about what would happen if you saw her again. Would she call you? Show up to your place? You had no idea.

————

That night you sat in bed and just had your last argument with Abby on replay.

You were cuddling with Abby on the couch watching as a reporter show interviewed her. “Fuck baby see that I’m gonna be famous” Abby laughed and kissed your cheek.

“Uh huh, just don’t forget about me yeah”

Abby just snorted. “As if How can I forget about my girl if she’s always with me” she pulled you closer if it was possible but you remained confused. “What do you mean?”

She tilted her head. “What? Your coming with me on my tour” she awkwardly laughed, her body language growing more serious. “Your coming with me”

“No I’m not Abby” you pulled away to have a serious conversation. “I can’t just leave my job but I’ll be here supporting you from the sidelines”’ you tried to be supportive by grabbing her hand.

Abby however shook her head like it wouldn’t do. “Quit your job I’m making more then enough for both of us”

“I’m not quiting my job” you scoffed “this is my dream job and I’d be insane to leave it, I get how important this is to you but I can’t go abs”

“So what? I’m just supposed to spend months traveling without you” her tone accusatory, you shrugged your should irritated but Abby let out a scoff like sigh. “That’s bullshit, isn’t your job Doing work from home Why can’t you go”

“Because i Cant Abby can you stop acting like a child about this? Your an adult woman act like one”

“I’m the child for wanting to have you with me?!” Abbya tone grew louder.

“You know that’s not what I meant”

“Whatever” abby stood up and grabbed her keys.

“Abby where are you going!” You yelled and followed her outside your apartment complex down to her car. “What the fuck are you doing!”

Abby opened her car door. “Going to blow off steam”

“So your going to the gym instead of talking to me.. Abby if you leave this conversation you won’t have to worry about not having a girlfriend on tour.”

She got into her car before she paused. “Your not serious..”

“I am either we talk this out like adults or your on your own” your tone was strong but you tried to hide the years in your eyes. Abby just scoffed thinking your bluffing. “We’ll talk when we’re both calmed down ok, I’ll see you in an hour.. love you”

That hour when Abby came home you were gone.

—

At the same time Abby thought about the same thing.. she covered her face and cringed at how she didn’t take you seriously like she should of. She had ruined everything and ruined what you two had, just the thought of all that though made her sick.

————

A couple hours passed. You had woken up around 2am after your cat hit your face.. grumbling you moved over and checked your phone.

Almost dropping it you panicked as you saw a DM notification from Abby’s Instagram account. You debated for half an hour before actually opening it

- hey y/n I know it’s been a long time but I’m coming into state for a concert and I thought maybe we could hang out or something

You looked at the message nervous, should you respond? Should you ignore?

“Fuck” you groaned.. if you agreed you knew how it would end but you just couldn’t stop yourself

- hey Abby.. yeah I would like to hangout it would be nice to see you

- ….

- great! I’ll text you some details tomorrow. Come to my show yeah? you can hangout back stage while we preform

- …

- okay

You turned off your phone and made a face of discomfort. Once Dina and them found out they would actually kill you but what could it hurt, you still liked Abby yeah and maybe if she still liked you maybe there was a chance to make things work again.

————

You sat back stage shaking your leg as Abby finsihed her set. You waved as manny, Mel, Nora and some of the other people in Abby’s band walked by. You had hanged out occasionally with them but you didn’t really know them.

That’s when you saw Abby. She had her hair down with sweat beading around her face, she wore a black Tee and some cargo pants. It was simple but shit did it really show off Abby’s muscular physique.

She noticed you and walked awkwardly over. “Hey” she panted, You nodded in response. “Uh.. let’s go to my dressing room yeah? It’ll be more private”

Once in the room you got comfortable on the couch, watching Abby change which didn’t shock you since you two have seen eachother naked on a multitude of occasions. Abby sat down beside you.

It was silent but comforting as you two looked at eachother. “So” you finally spoke shifting around some. “How many groupies have you hooked up with” you teased.

Abby gave a breathy chuckle. “None actually.. I haven’t slept with anyone since our breakup, and what about you? How many women have come banging on your door begging for a chance”

“As if” you rolled your eyes “your the only woman I’ve met who’s actually almost broke down my door just to ask me on another date” it was nice talking to Abby. It wasn’t weird but enjoyable.

“And in my defense it worked didn’t it” Abby laughed. “Besides I had to do that after fucking up our first date”

You laughed in response. “Ok Abby” shaking your head but the blonde continued with a smile

“I’m serious!”

Laughing with Abby made you happy, you always felt your best when she was with you, You both calmed down eventually and just looked at eachother.. Abby’s smile fell, she grabbed your hand and sighed. She rubbed gentle circles on your hand in a comforting way. “I ruined us pretty bad huh..”

You didn’t respond, Abby took that as her answer. She leaned forward and kissed your cheek while placing her hand on your hip with her free hand on your cheek. She looked at you with affection before looking down ashamed. “I treated you like trash, and you deserve so much more than that.. and I know this is a shitty apology but I’m sorry.. I’m so so fucking sorry. If I could take everything back I would”

She cringed at the silence. Wishing to take everything back. You reached out and kissed her softly, it was short lived much to Abby’s dismay but she didn’t complain.

“I love you Abby.. I never stop” You softly admited. Laughing as Abby blushed, you tucked one of her stray hairs away before leaning in to kiss her again.

—

The following morning abby immediately posted you laying in bed beside her on her Instagram story.. resulting in multiple people congratulating abby on her relationship, some offensive names and comments, and lastly your friends blowing up your phone threatening to beat your ass for getting back with your ex.

[piratefalls]

welcome back to the latest edition of biweekly fic recs! as always, mind the tags, if you can't leave a nice comment don't leave one at all, and happy reading!

masterlist.

There's No Problem That San Diego Can't Solve by @historicallysam

Alex doesn’t even bother knocking; he simply twists the knob on the door and shoves it open. His eyes narrow as the door bangs against the wall and he sees Henry on the phone. Maybe (definitely) it’s rude but his blood is fucking boiling so he doesn’t really care.

All the Ocean was Sleeping by @sparklepocalypse

The worst part about being a siren in the modern era, Henry ponders as yet another ship flies past his cove at a speed that he knows will disturb the anemone gardens below, is the yacht bros. Between the sound of their vessels’ motors and the dissonant noise the humans call music, Henry’s singing has no chance of attracting anyone’s attention.

cause you're a classic, and i'm reckless by @firenati0n

“I've, actually, uh. I've never done this before.” At this, Henry stops short, takes a second as his gaze moves up and to the left, trying to recall something. “I've seen your films. You most certainly have done intimate scenes.” Alex clears his throat. He hopes his nerves aren't completely obvious, the slight waver in his voice about to give him away. “Yeah, well. Never with a man, so. Not at this scale, anyway.” “Would it help to, er, practice?" Henry winces a little as he says it, which does not inspire confidence. But Alex is shocked nonetheless. What the fuck?

Over Land and Sea by SatinBirds

Alex and Henry come from very different worlds, and still, they manage to find each other.

Clean Slate by smc_27

“Henry.” Pez comes over, puts both hands on Henry’s cheeks and looks him dead in the eye. “You are not a sad man who’s gotten dumped. You’re in the prime of your life, and I quite desperately need you to act like it.” “The prime of my life,” Henry scoffs, more incredulous than questioning. “I’ve just gotten out of a 15 year relationship, endured a divorce, am suffering an almost impressive case of writer’s block, and your hands are like bloody icicles.” Pez grins, doesn’t take his hands away. “Explain to me how this is my prime. Please.” Pez tilts his head, and sounds entirely serious when he says, “Literally anything can happen from here.”

in bloom by stutteringpeach

Yoo, can u hook me up with some flowers?? It's the busiest day of the year for florists. Alex texts Henry with a last minute request.

here is a map (with your name for a capital) by @alasse9

That day at the Rio de Janeiro Olympics, Alex comes across the very same Prince Henry who just dismissed him having a panic attack in a bathroom. The choice Alex makes then has ripple effects neither of them could have ever expected. What's the story like, when they actually are friends all along? “So, you’re going back to England tonight, and you’ll spend the next three days pretending you two are the closest and best of friends until we can put this mess behind us.” And there are reasons he hasn’t told anybody this, good reasons, even though he’s sure June and Nora saw through him ages ago. Faced with his mom’s disappointment, though, and with the realization that the entire world apparently thinks he hates Henry and would willingly shove him into a fucking cake, he can’t stay quiet. “But we are friends,” he says, vehement and serious. “We have been for years. He’s—he’s probably my best friend, actually, along with Nora.”

thoughts of you consume by yrsonpurpose

Henry sees Alex appear on the red carpet in a blue suit that screams sex on legs and is ready to throw away all attempts at concealing their secret relationship in the name of dropping to his knees at the first available opportunity.

eyes on me by matherine

Alex’s hips buck back against Henry’s mouth the moment his tongue does more than tease, and Henry squeezes his hip in gentle consternation. But before he can say anything, Alex is already rambling. “Sorry, I’m — I’m sorry, I know you said not to move, and I’m trying, I — I’m trying to be good, I promise,” he blurts, voice shaking ever so slightly from something that certainly doesn’t sound like pleasure, resolutely refusing to turn his head so that he can meet Henry’s gaze from where he’s positioned behind him. Henry’s heart aches. “Alex — love, it’s alright. Where’s your mind?” Or: Sometimes, Alex needs a distraction. Something to take the edge off, to scrub away at the stress of the day. Some days, it works better than others. 

the evolution of intimacy by Poutini

There’s no spontaneity anymore. One might think this boring. That the novelty had worn off. The spark snuffed. Absolutely not

Want Me by OrchidScript

Henry had always been weak for a nice smile, but his was impossible to ignore. Blame it on summer heat and a fresh flush in his cheeks. Blame it on sunset painting the outdoor bar sweltering, romantic colors. Blame it on two healthy glasses of albariño thrumming in his bloodstream, or the good music floating on the air. Henry could blame it on anything liked if he thought long and hard about it, but that didn’t change much at the end. The core remained the same: he had been gone from the jump. -- Henry and Alex hook up on a vacation in Spain. Henry falls a bit deeper.

fill my lungs with sweetness by @priincebutt

Henry George Edward James Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor wakes up at 3 AM on his birthday to an empty bed. What could Alex possibly be getting up to at 3 AM the night before his birthday? The possibilities are endless.

got myself in quite a tangle by coffeecatsme

"It seems I've gotten myself in quite a tangle." "Tangle?" Henry's voice is hoarse, eyes darkened as they travel over Alex's body. They stop at his crotch, and Alex can see it even under the dim lights—Henry's growing hard too, a visible bulge pushing at his sweatpants. Alex's cock gives a desperate twitch. "Y'know, I was trying to put them around the tree," he starts, gesturing at the plain tree at the corner. It's clear he didn't even attempt to touch it. "And somehow I've managed to completely trap myself. Can't even move my hands." Henry makes a desperate noise at the back of his throat as his eyes snap up to Alex's face. Alex flashes him a suggestive grin, teeth biting down on his lip. "Seems I'm completely at your mercy."

The Forces of Chance and Coincidences by @stellarm

Bad weather leads to a late flight that leads to no one being where they wanted to be, but maybe everyone was where they needed to be.

I've never felt safer (than when I'm with you) by viciouslyqueer

Alex takes the bag and opens it slowly, careful not to rip it, and gasps quietly as he sees what’s inside. “H, you didn’t…” Strong arms wrap around his waist from behind, Henry’s chest warm against his back. “Do you like it?” Henry asks in a whisper, resting his chin on Alex’s shoulder. Alex doesn’t know what to say. Gingerly, like he might ruin it with even the smallest touch, he takes out the silky fabric and holds it up in front of them. It’s a gorgeous dress, fancy too, in a deep red color with thin straps and an open back. It’s long, almost touching the floor even as Alex holds it up and has a slit on the left side that would probably end a little above Alex’s knee.

An Amateur's Guide to Professional Gift-Giving by anincompletelist

Alex, a former-law-student-taking-some-time-off turned professional part-time gift giver, is tasked with finding a gift for the most high profile client he's ever worked with, both in and out of the world of law. It turns out finding the perfect gift for the Prince of Wales might be easier than he'd anticipated.

Love At First Bark by everwitch

“I still don’t know your name, do I?” Henry watches Alex where he’s crouched down in front of David and gently scratching David below his chin. David absolutely loves Alex. Henry can relate. “It’s David,” Henry supplies. “Cool,” Alex says. “And what’s the dog’s name?” Henry blinks at him. “... David?” “What?” Alex exclaims. He looks from David to Henry and then back at David again. “Wow, okay, that is a choice.” Henry wants to sink through the earth and never come back up again.

don't let me get drunk again by headabovethewater

Alex had never wanted to cancel plans as much as he had while watching Henry pull a pair of light wash, tight jeans over his stockinged legs and bare ass. Christ, he’s getting hard thinking about it now.

The Beginner's Guide to Floristry by clottedcreamfudge

As if there's anything romantic about it; as if it's not the most humiliating death Alex can imagine. This is why he doesn't do relationships. This is why he never will. The risk, as far as he fucking sees it, is too great. -- Hanahaki Disease is a fictional disease where the victim of unrequited or one-sided love begins to vomit or cough up the petals and flowers of a flowering plant growing in their lungs, which will eventually grow large enough to render breathing impossible.

Everything you take, you make it better. So go on, take forever by @hgejfmw-hgejhsf

It's 2024, and nobody knows they're engaged. But they will, just as soon as Alex can decide what to wear to his birthday dinner. Henry has an idea and a special gift to match.

false pretenses by rizcriz

Henry spins around, glaring at Alex. “For christs sake,” He hisses, holding a hand out between them. “Can we just not? I do not have the capacity to pretend to hate you today.” Alex splutters as Henry turns on his heel and starts to walk away. He stares after him helplessly. “Pretend?” After a beat, he starts to follow after him, “What the fuck do you mean pretend?” Three years of breathing down each others necks, fighting every time they come in contact with each other. And if Henry is saying every single thing on his end has been pretend, Alex Claremont-Diaz is going to have a fucking breakdown. Because he has been harboring this stupid fucking crush and burying it beneath false antagonism, meeting Henry where he’s at, for three years, and if Henry is implying that they’re both faking it— -- or, Alex learns better.

turn the desert to glass (you would be the one) by @taste-thewaste

Henry and Alex's domestic bliss has lead to some changes in Henry's body. Henry doesn't really mind being a little chubby, but he wonders if Alex does. Alex, it turns out, does not. Not one bit. He does not mind one bit, and he is more than eager to prove it.

coming on fast like good dreams do by cricketnationrise

When Henry recovers from his unexpected factory reset, he still can’t really breathe properly and somehow Alex is still standing in front of him with a hopeful and excited expression on his face. “Run that by me again?” he asks faintly. “I need your help.” “Right…” “I need you to edge me. Like a lot,” Alex says with a shrug. Nope, it’s not any clearer a second time around.

as always, let me know if you want to be tagged in future lists, whether you're a reader or writer!

tagging @starkfridays @stilesgivesmefeels @midnightsfp @sarahjswift @enablelove

[thisapplepielife]

Written for the @corrodedcoffinfest Seven Deadly Sins pop-up event.

The Waiting

Prompt: Greed | Word Count: 1313 | Rating: M | CW: Brief Sex Scene | POV: Gareth | Relationship(s): Gareth/OC, Gareth & Eddie | Tags: You Can't Have Your Cake and Eat It Too, Right Person Wrong Time, Missing Your Chance, The Waiting Is The Hardest Part, Second Chances

"She's not answering," Gareth says, holding the room phone up to his ear. 

"Believe it or not, her life doesn't revolve around you, kid," Eddie says, writing in his little notebook, not even looking up. 

Well, yeah, Gareth knows that. He does. But she also knows his tour schedule. She knows that when he gets within 100 miles of Omaha, they always find a way to meet up. It's been this way for two years. 

Nights spent together, holed up in hotels, fucking and laughing and having a good time together. Because while they like each other, they know that trying to make this work while he's on the road is a non-starter.

So, they only get nights. Great nights, a few times a year. Her in his arms, his bed, his heart. When she's there, she's the only one he wants.

It's the most comfortable and predictable thing in his life, besides music. They have an arrangement. Non-exclusive. Don't ask, don't tell. And it's worked. 

But now, she's not answering or returning the message he left on her machine, and that's never happened before. She always calls back. 

When she finally calls back, it's not what he expected.

"She has a boyfriend now," Gareth says, flopping down on the bed. "Can you believe that?" 

"Uh, yeah? She's a fucking doll. Maybe you should've committed when you had the chance."

"You know I'm not doing that until I'm at least forty. She knows that, too. I never lied." 

"I didn't say you lied, but you definitely got greedy, kid. You wanted her to wait while you were off fucking around. Did you seriously think that she'd wait forever, just on the off-chance you'd settle down with her someday? Get real. I'm sure she weighed the odds if you'd ever settle. And if you did turn forty, and magically decide it was time, what were the chances that you would marry forty-year-old her, and not some twenty-eight-year-old groupie?"

Eddie's monologuing at him. Which is nothing new. But it still makes Gareth bristle. 

"That's not. I wouldn't. I wanted her. My endgame plan was always her."

Eddie raises an eyebrow, "Well, maybe her endgame plan wasn't you."

Gareth still calls. Every time they wind through the Midwest. Two years later, he's nearly two hundred miles away in Bonner Springs, and that's further than their agreement covers, but he tries anyway. He'd make it work. But when he makes contact, she finally tells him not to call again. That if she ever wants to, she'll get a hold of him, not the other way around. 

She never does. 

After five years, they play right in Omaha, and he doesn't whip his head around with the arena lights, searching every face his eyes can find. 

But he does wonder if she married the boyfriend. If she has kids that aren't his. 

He wonders that a lot. 

They take a break from touring. He's thirty-one, and alone every morning when the sun comes up. Everybody's beat up and worn down. One year off turns into three. He's not sure they'll ever get back on the road. 

Everybody's settled down. Happy. 

Everybody but him. 

So, he pretends. Gets a girlfriend that's probably too young for him, but she doesn't give a fuck about what he does on the side, because she isn't interested in anything other than his money. 

It's not a terrible deal. He gets to fuck around, and his house isn't empty. 

Two years in, sitting across from Eddie at breakfast, he says, "I could marry her, I guess."

And Eddie drops his fork. Deliberately. Like an asshole. 

"Don't you fucking dare. You don't love her. You barely like her."

He's pretty sure he's not capable of love. Because the only time he thinks he felt it, he didn't do a damn thing about it, instead trading his happiness for his freedom.

His engagement makes the news, but so does the messy break-up, later. 

"At least you're only out a diamond, for fuck's sake," Eddie says, yanking open the blinds. Gareth hates him right now. 

"I miss her," Gareth says. 

Eddie lets out an exasperated sigh, "No, you don't. You're just lonely." 

Gareth rolls over, face in his pillow, mumbling, "Not her. Di."

There's a beat where he thinks Eddie didn't hear him, but he's not that lucky. 

"Jesus H. Christ. That again?" 

Again? Always. 

"You don't want Di. You just want what you can't have." 

That's not true. 

They book a stretch of shows. Gareth isn't sure it can be called a tour, it's so small. And he's pretty sure it's just to get him out of the house. Either way, they're on the road again, and he's back to his old habits. It really is like riding a bike. 

He has Steve order the condoms he likes in bulk, and fucks his way through the cities they hit. He's good at this. He's never gonna settle down. He says he's getting a vasectomy, and Eddie tries to talk him out of it. Eddie's just scared he'll start raw dogging around, after. 

Fair enough. He's overdue for a downward spiral. 

The shows are fine. But they always are. They are well-oiled and in sync, even after years off. 

Then they land in Omaha. 

There will always be a pang of hurt coming here, but it's been over ten years. She's not his, and never really was, because he never let her be. 

The arena is playing music before the show starts, as always, but tonight three out of the last five songs have been Tom Petty. It's an extra twist of the Omaha knife. 

Di loved Tom Petty. 

The Waiting starts up.

That's it. 

"Steve," Gareth snaps, "for fuck's sake. Tell them to knock the Petty off, it's putting me on edge." 

Steve just shrugs, like he has no control over it. As if he couldn't put a stop to anything with one look, hands on his hips. 

So, he's letting this happen. Asshole.

On stage, Gareth's still in a bad mood. But there's a looker in the front row, and maybe he can make that happen tonight. 

After the set, he runs off-stage and right next to Steve, is Di. Older, with different hair, but definitely her.

His heart stops. 

She's here. 

He's thirty-seven. And she's here. 

He holds the door of his dressing room open for her. He figures they're gonna talk. Maybe close this chapter for good. 

But he sits on the couch, legs spread, and she crawls right on his thighs. Then grips his shoulders, and pulls herself forward, flush against his crotch. 

Oh fuck. Goddamn. 

They tear off clothing, desperate, fingers grazing. A condom is found, and then she's sinking down on him. 

He groans, and tilts his head backwards. 

"I wanna know," she says, and he looks at her. Waiting to see what she wants to hear as she's rocking on him. Tom Petty was right. The waiting is the hardest part.

Then she smiles, "Are you still a slut?" 

He laughs. Not Petty, Chili Peppers, then.

And he is. Nods. But, maybe?

Maybe, he doesn't want to be. 

"Not if you'll stay."

"Right answer," she says, teasing, caressing his stick calloused fingers. "You're not forty yet, you know?"

"Forty isn't even old." 

She laughs. 

"I was single for the first time in years, and thought, now? Then I read you were getting married."

"Not anymore," he says. 

"I know. That's why I'm sitting on your cock," she teases, and he laughs. "I didn't know if I even remembered you right. Or if you'd remember me at all. It's been years."

He touches her hair, her face, "I want you. I love you. Not telling you that, not acting on it way back then, haunts me. I lost fucking years with you."

And, yeah, he's not forty. 

But he's ready.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @corrodedcoffinfest and follow along with the fun! 🦇

Well, yeah, I might have chased a couple women around, All it ever got me was down, Yeah, then there were those that made me feel good, But never as good as I feel right now, Baby, you're the only one that's ever known how, To make me live like I wanna live now Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers, The Waiting

Notes: Title is from The Waiting by Tom Petty (shocker, lol) but this was also heavily influenced by the songs I Should Have Married You by Old Dominion and Otherside by Red Hot Chili Peppers.

[vidavalor]

Does Aziraphale drink coffee, do you think? I keep seeing people who think he doesn't because they think he doesn't know what espresso does but he also has a regular order? Do you think there's a word thing happening here? Thanks!

Hi there. 💕 Thanks for the ask. I hope you're having a great day. There are eccles cakes for snacks tonight as it felt appropriate for this one. 😊 We've actually seen Aziraphale drink coffee back in 1.01 in the scene at The Ritz in 2008 so I'm also frequently confused by people saying that they think he doesn't know what coffee is. Seems a bit of a stretch... Yeah, I think there's a wordplay thing happening in the Six Shots of Espresso scene that might be at the root of the coffee confusion.

Let's look at what coffee is in Good Omens and Aziraphale's joke around the word calm.

When we use calm today, we mean a sense of peace and relaxation. The word comes from the Greek kauma, though, which originally meant heat, as well as the Latin calere, which meant to feel hot.

To that end? Something that is calm in Ineffable Husbands Speak is something that brings about a sense of peace and relaxation through heat, which is a way to describe not just a hot cup of coffee but, also, well... sex. But why is Aziraphale describing sex when they're ordering coffee?

Let's back up and look at Crowley's very laced-with-their-vocabulary coffee order:

Take a big cup. Put six shots of espresso into it. Nothing else.

Big: Original definitions: generous; powerful, strong; a great man.

Cup: For a such little word, it has an unexpectedly fun history. A cup is a drinking vessel, yes. It also meant a ship's hull at one point. These two and their fish-and-the-sea stuff... Even more amusing, it also once meant a beehive. Later on in S2, we get Crowley explaining the angels = bees analogy to Muriel that holds up within Crowley & Aziraphale's speak in different scenes as well. Additionally, there's cup as a verb-- to cup, as in to take something in hand with the hand in a curved, cup-like shape. Crowley cupping a cup as visual innuendo in the pub scene in S2:

The word cup also contains the word up.

Up = Heaven/angels/Aziraphale.

Contrast with Aziraphale then replying with "does it calm you down?"

Big Cup = Aziraphale.

So, what does Crowley feeling like doing with the big cup he'd like to take this morning? Putting six shots of espresso into it.

Six shots: Six, from the Latin verb sex. Aziraphale as The Great Beast joke from the Odegra scene. 666 aka The Mark of the Beast in S1 was the literal numbers and part of Adam's phone number. In S2, it's the Latin verb root of the word six-- so, it's sex, sex, sex... 😂

Shots -- form of measurement for two euphemistic beverages in Good Omens: alcohol and coffee.

Shots contains hot (self-explanatory) and hots, the slang for peppers, which Aziraphale also uses to describe Crowley in a couple of different ways in Demon's Guide to Angelic Beings. It was also part of Aziraphale's "sitting on it" sword joke to Crowley in S1 where the handle looked like a pepper grinder.

[On the story's overall wordplay level, as opposed to within Crowley and Aziraphale's speak, there is also that Crowley's paralleling character in The Them is Pepper.]

Espresso: Coffee. Literally translated: fast coffee. Also contains press, a word that overlaps food and seamstress euphemistic speak-- so, a little nod towards Mrs. Sandwich. You press clothes with an iron. You make a hot sandwich with a panini press. Something that is urgent-- like a very in-the-mood demon who knows something is irritatingly wrong and would rather they be meeting for breakfast as a date without any problems and so is ordering sexually euphemistic coffee-- is a pressing matter. 😉

Nothing else: You can leave it at nothing else alone and it works but it's also: know thin elks. To know in the old, religious sense is to know someone "biblically"-- to be sleeping with someone-- which is how Crowley uses it still in the context of their speak: "Just enough of a bastard to be worth knowing."/"He's just an angel I know."/"We've known each other a long time."/what he says to Aziraphale when he thinks they're going to die in S1: "It was nice knowing you."

I've noticed a few instances of the word thin and/or words containing it referring to Crowley, with this being one of them. Elks are a kind of deer native to North America, a little joke on the fact that they're in the American-themed Give Me Coffee or Give Me Death. Their whole horses thing (and every other animal thing basically lol) is also a deer thing. Deer is homophonic for dear. "My dear" and "My dear fellow" are also "my deer" and "my deer fellow."

Nothing else = Know Thin Elks = Crowley self-proclaiming himself the thin, American deer who'd like to break fast, err, breakfast lol with some biblical knowledge with the angelic big cup.

Shout out to Nina Sosanya (the actress, not the character) for being able to not just laugh through this. The hand gestures are, unintentionally on the part of the character, Crowley's euphemistic order as well: Six aka sex. Being one. Bigggggg cup. 🤭

So, basically, the coffee confusion comes from Aziraphale's response to Crowley's coffee order-- so, let's look at that. Crowley's coffee order with Nina means to her that he wants a literal big cup filled with six shots of literal espresso but, to Aziraphale, it's putting in a request for sex using the coffee euphemistically. Crowley said he wanted to take the big cup and fill it with some shots of espresso mmhmm, to which Aziraphale then replied:

That sounds fun. Does it calm you down?

The big cup is game to know the thin elk 😉 and he has some words for him in return, even if he's joking by pretending that they're really only talking about Crowley's literal coffee order.

Sound is what you hear so Aziraphale's acknowledging that he hears the wordplay and knows that Crowley is pressed for more than espresso at the moment. He heard the Ineffable Husbands Speak happening. A sound is also a body of water and was a word that originally also meant the act of swimming, so we've got some extra of their favorite sexual metaphor-- fish-and-the-sea/bodies-of-water-- in here as well.

We already looked at how calm means relaxing through heat above. Aziraphale asks if it-- both the coffee order and the "coffee order"-- calms Crowley down, responding to Crowley's use of up within cup as descriptive for Aziraphale. Neither of them are actually working for Heaven or Hell anymore, nor do they really see one another as like the other angels and demons, but it's a shorthand.

Up and down are also fun words because of the fact that they often are used in slang kind of interchangeably-- to get on up and to get down can mean the same thing, for example. The tagline for S2 is a joke around that as well: something's going down in The Up. Something going down is something happening but the something that is happening is also that angels are going down. (Might also be something to keep in mind then about the last shot of the season being Aziraphale seeming to go Up and how that really can still very much mean that he's ultimately what's going down.)

You could also, if you're of mind to, take the 'calm you down' to be something Aziraphale has in mind as well, centered around the meaning of going down that doesn't involve an elevator or stairs, if you see where I'm going with this? Given how the scene ends, I think Crowley probably heard that bit as we'll look at in a second...

Aziraphale, knowing Nina does not know the root of the word calm, nor that he and Crowley are speaking their cant vocabulary in front of her and what calm means in that vocabulary, then asks Nina a question:

This is meant to amuse Crowley because calm, to Nina, means something that's relaxing and can help mellow someone out, while calm, in Ineffable Husbands Speak, incorporates the heat-related roots of the word to make it mean something that induces a state of peace and relaxation through heat-- so, something that's sexy.

As a result, Aziraphale has set it up so that almost anything that Nina could say in response to this would be amusing to him and Crowley because, while they know she doesn't understand what they're saying beneath the surface, what she says in response here is, in that speak, as if whatever she's saying is the sexiest thing she sells.

I'm of the opinion that Aziraphale, in mentioning things that are calm, is trying to get Nina to offer him a form of tea that Aziraphale can then turn into an equally sexually euphemistic order of his own. (There are a couple of uses of tea that way in other scenes and Aziraphale had also ordered tea in the date they didn't end up having in the sushi scene in 1.01.) But Nina surprises Aziraphale with her response.

Aziraphale didn't take into account that Nina won't offer him tea because it seems too logical a choice. He's an older Englishman to Nina, so, wouldn't he just ask for tea, if that's what he wants? To her, he must be looking for something calming that is not tea. She has a quick think about it and, both unintentionally and amusingly, comes up with the one thing that she sells that not only calms people down in the way that Nina understands calm to mean-- chills them out and makes them happy-- but is also calm by Crowley and Aziraphale's standards-- chills them out and makes them happy but with an element of sex.

What Nina doesn't realize is the history of eccles cakes, which, ironically, really do meet the definition of calming people down in a sexy way by Crowley and Aziraphale speak standards. They were once banned in England for being thought of as food of the devil because they were so sinfully delicious. This scene will also probably be even funnier after S3 because, historically, eccles cakes tie to 1650-- one of the years mentioned by Aziraphale in the Apology Dance scene. If we get that flashback in S3, eccles cakes could wind up having additional layers of meaning to Crowley and Aziraphale that would add even more to this scene in S2.

Either way, Crowley and Aziraphale lived through that history, so it's already funny then that Aziraphale, in response, looks at Crowley and just says:

So, yeah, Aziraphale does know what espresso is and what caffeine is and was joking with Crowley about how he might have been ordering some calm with Aziraphale but what he ordered from Nina was anxiety in a mug.

We actually saw Aziraphale and Crowley drink coffee at The Ritz in 2008 in S1. Aziraphale's mug indicates that he was drinking a cappuccino or a latte, which are both espresso-based drinks. Crowley was not having six shots of espresso with nothing else at that moment. He was having maybe a third of that, tops, in a dessert coffee that was light enough to have milk or cream of it and may or may not have also contained alcohol. Mr. Six Shots of Espresso in a Big Cup doesn't always take his coffee that way, ah... both literally and euphemistically. 😉

They're visible on the table here:

Aziraphale's large oat milk latte with a dash of almond syrup is his usual order at Give Me Coffee or Give Me Death... which is a creepy thing for Whoever Derek Jacobi is Playing to know, I agree. It's another indication that he drinks coffee regularly. Aziraphale knows Nina not just from The Whickber Street Shopkeepers and Traders Association but because her shop is right across the street from where he lives and works so it's where he goes to get the coffee that he drinks to a point of having an usual order.

Nina doesn't know Crowley at the start of the Six Shots of Espresso scene and is surprised to see an additional twist to the bookseller's suddenly surprisingly interesting and wild sex life being that, in addition to The Naked Man Friend, the bookseller apparently has a fella-- this charming ginger with the bizarrely intense morning coffee order. Nina doesn't know Crowley because Crowley and Aziraphale don't do mornings in an effort to not get caught. Crowley's gone before dawn. Mrs. Sandwich knows about them because she works at night outside the bookshop's side door; Nina does not because she works beginning in the early mornings across the street.

The know thin elks bit-- when elks are wapitis, which means "light-colored deer"-- is then even funnier when Nina unintentionally uses an idiom that goes along with Crowley and Aziraphale's wordplay to describe Aziraphale in this scene: You're a dark horse, Mr. Fell.

Aziraphale as dark (also: d'ark and contains ark, so: of The Ark/The Flood) and Crowley as light (of stars and fire; light in weight; light as truth; lightens burdens and brightens up Aziraphale's world with humor, and so on) are also in the wordplay in 1941, where they are rather adorably inverting their own visuals when flirting with one another:

Aziraphale doesn't just mean he'd miss coffee-the-beverage when he tells Whichever Villain Derek Jacobi Is Playing that he doesn't want to go back to Heaven. Aziraphale is obviously not saying it directly but is thinking about the much more pressing problem:

Where would he get his coffee, ya dig?

Coffee is coffee itself. Coffee is freedom in general, especially the kind that comes from the American-themed Give Me Coffee or Give Me Death. But coffee is also sex-- free, liberated sex, in particular. The choice to live as Aziraphale pleases, for him, is centered around his life on Earth with Crowley and going to Heaven means he would lose that. Coffee is not much different from the use of alcohol in the same way in S1 as Crowley was talking about how Armageddon happening and Aziraphale stuck in Heaven and separated from Crowley and the two of them not having their life on Earth would mean they wouldn't be able to be together:

"Not too big on wine in Heaven, are they? Or single-malt scotch. Or frou frou cocktails with little umbrellas..."

All that then making it funnier that, upon hearing that there's a "not technically" Naked Man Friend in the bookshop, Crowley's literal drink order arrives at the table. Even though Crowley knows that there's some kind of situation happening here that isn't anything worth being jealous over, he's definitely not missing an opportunity to tease Aziraphale a bit over whatever's going on a little.

Turns out that Aziraphale isn't the only one who can make a show of eating and drinking. There's an awful lot of tongue in that big cup...

Connected scene: "A sherry for me, please."

Sherry: A light wine, usually drunk before a meal to stimulate the appetite. Homophone: the French cheri, meaning dear. Aziraphale ordered a Crowley-esque wine to drink it in front of him.

Finally, as if we needed more proof of coffee as figurative language, there's always...

You're both equal parts skinny lattes and large oat milk ones with dashes of almond syrup, ladies, but, yeah, Maggie's your Crowley, Nina. They're both skinny lattes and a whole world of other beverages as well.

You said it, Mags. 😂

[lusthurts]

**SPOILER WARNING FOR THE RED WHITE AND ROYAL BLUE MOVIE**

This movie was very entertaining. It hit all the beats of a great rom-com. I personally enjoyed the music a lot, even if it was at times very different from the music in the book. Nicholas Galitzine was a standout of the main cast for me - he really made me feel Henry’s angst just like the book did, and I think this is a character that the film truly did justice. My personal favorite character from the movie though was Zahra - Sarah Shahi was absolutely incredible. She had fantastic comedic timing and her dynamic with Alex, Henry, Shaan, and Ellen. I really enjoyed Bea, Nora, & Pez as well, although I think they were severely underused and I kinda hated how the Nora/Pez dynamic worked without June. I think the romance was beautiful - I particularly enjoyed the polo scene, the karaoke scene, the Texas stuff, and the V&A museum.

I also laughed out loud a ton during the movie. Zahra’s scenes were hilarious, and the royal wedding/cake debacle was handled perfectly. I miss June here a bit, but I generally was very satisfied with how it all went down. Also, despite many fans early fears of a lack of chemistry between Nick and Taylor, I thought their chemistry was fantastic. Maybe not the best I’ve ever seen, but it was definitely believable, entertaining, and one of the most compelling parts of the story.

I also liked that we got more of Henry’s POV than we did in the book. It didn’t add a ton in my opinion, but I do think it allowed Nicholas Galitzine to show off his acting chops. I think the heart of the book remains, and after the press/everything I’d heard about the movie going into it, I was pleasantly surprised with how the political stuff was handled. Alex’s arc with Texas in particular was beautiful, and I think the end of the movie left me with a similar feeling to the book.

As for things I didn’t love, and I will say there were kind of a lot of small things, I’ve made a list that I’m sure no one cares much to read.

I missed June a lot. I identify a lot with her character, and although I totally understand why she was cut out (I do think in the book she serves less plot purpose than Nora), I actually think the choice to exclude her made even less sense after seeing the movie than before seeing it. Nora and Alex’s relationship felt very underdeveloped in the movie, and none of the romantic elements that I thought made their relationship important to the book ended up mattering at all in the movie. He kisses a different girl on New Year’s, there’s no mention of a sexual history between them, there’s no fake dating setup to detract from Alex/Henry, and Nora’s just generally absent. I feel like June would’ve served that purpose fine if not better.

The romance felt kind of rushed. The whole Christmas phone call that imo is so crucial to Henry & Alex’s relationship and character development doesn’t happen at all (probably because his parents are still together), and I didn’t have like a timer or clock or anything but it felt like the 100 or so pages leading up to the NYE kiss was like less than 20 minutes.

I hated that Alex’s parents were happily married, and I think it massively takes away from his character development. His arc honestly fell very short for me which is disappointing since he’s a character I identify so closely with. I don’t feel like they do his like major anxiety justice, and I think he goes from kinda being an idealist, reckless dummy to being a heartfelt, romantic, ready for a big commitment guy in the span of a few minutes.

I honestly could’ve done without the sex scenes. They were good, and I could tell the intimacy coordinator slayed with this one, but they were more explicit than the book imo (especially the one in Paris), and while I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that, I would’ve much rather had more fade to black so as to save screen time to develop the romance more at the beginning.

I didn’t enjoy the Miguel character at all. He has no character development, and I do not at all understand how this character is the Luna/Liam blend he was promoted as. He functions as a ruthless journalist who despite being queer himself decides to out Henry and Alex to the entire world, and we NEVER get an explanation for why. It’s alluded to that maybe Miguel had feelings for Alex and did it because he resented Alex for not feeling the same? But like, he literally outed two prominent figures to the entire world at risk of benefitting a homophobic predator running for office. And he never apologizes? Or faces any repercussions???? Like this is just kind of there?? And that is NOT AT ALL Rafael Luna or Liam who are both generally speaking positive forces in Alex’s life. I just don’t get it at all.

This is a personal issue I had that most probably don’t care about, but I’m from Minnesota, and seeing Minnesota red in the movie was infuriating. MN is not a swing state, never really has been, and was basically the only state in the upper midwest to stay blue in the 2016 election. I’m biased because this is my home state, but MN would NEVER vote red and I’m kinda just annoyed at the implication that it did instead of them just choosing to blame it on all the actual swing states.

Okay those are my thoughts. I doubt anyone cares that much, but I needed to get it out of my system. I will say I really enjoyed the movie, and I can see why the bulk of reviews are positive. I think anyone who didn’t read the book won’t feel like anything is missing, and fans of the book will for the most part still really enjoy it. I will definitely be rewatching when it comes out officially on Amazon Prime tomorrow, and I can see myself rewatching hundreds more times in the future. But it sort of needs to exist independent of the book for me, I guess. And that’s okay! I think everyone involved did a great job with the adaptation, and I look forward to watching it again.

[cutiedwaekki]

SKZOO MAID CAFE

kinktober special fic

summary : were chan decide to visit a special maid cafe , highly popular for their special maid

content : feeding , hand feeding , mention of breaking furnitures , SFW , mention of sex in public , tight clothes

i hope this year i'll be able to finish this kinktober lol

Also don t hesitate to tell me your opinion on it i'll be glad to hear it

Enjoy ♡

(^з^)-☆

Chan had often been easily persuaded by his friends to go out, but this time, he found himself in a completely different situation. His friends had been teasing him for weeks about this special café, and now that he stood in front of the "SKZOO Maid Café," he hesitated.

The place was already very popular, known for its curvy maids who embodied beloved animals. It wasn’t your typical maid café. Here, people didn’t come just for the food or the attentive service. No, it was a unique, even unsettling, experience where the maids, all big, fat men, added to the charm of the place.

Chan took a deep breath before stepping through the door. The bell above the entrance rang softly, announcing his arrival. Immediately, the atmosphere engulfed him. The interior was cozy, warm, bathed in dim lighting that gave the place a soft, intimate feel. A few customers were already seated, visibly comfortable in this peculiar setting.

As he moved forward, Chan observed the maids in action. His eyes first fell on Changbin, the maid representing a mix of pig and a bunny. His body was massive, with a large, imposing belly that he clearly took pride in. His muscular arms appeared even stronger alongside his roundness. Changbin was serving a customer Chan immediately recognized: Hyunjin, one of his friends.

Hyunjin and Changbin had a visibly very... tactile relationship. Chan saw them exchange knowing smiles, their gestures more intimate than the usual service in a café. Changbin placed a plate in front of Hyunjin, and at that moment, their gazes met in a way that made Chan blush. He quickly looked away, uncomfortable having witnessed such a private moment, though it didn’t stop him from following them with his eyes.

He was surprised to see Hyunjin abruptly stand up and whisper something to Changbin, who nodded before accompanying him to the back of the café. Hyunjin stopped just in front of the restroom, casting a final glance around to ensure no one was following. Chan, driven by a curiosity he barely acknowledged, discreetly followed them, pretending he needed to wash his hands.

Once inside, he heard muffled whispers coming from one of the stalls. His heart racing, he realized Hyunjin and Changbin were kissing passionately, their bodies entwined in a stolen moment. Chan quickly backed out, wondering what he had just witnessed, and hurried out of the restroom. He hadn’t expected to discover this kind of dynamic when he came here.

Trying to calm down, he returned to his table, but this time, his attention was drawn to another scene. Jisung, the quokka maid, was serving a young man Chan also knew: Seungmin. Unlike the warm interaction between Changbin and Hyunjin, this one seemed much more distant, at least on Seungmin’s side. He sipped his coffee, appearing completely uninterested in what was happening around him.

However, Jisung seemed thrilled to have him as a customer. As he set a large plate of cakes in front of Seungmin, he exclaimed with a wide smile:

“You’re finally back, Minnie! It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” he said, batting his eyelashes, clearly delighted to see Seungmin again.

Seungmin barely lifted his eyes from his phone and merely nodded nonchalantly.

“Yeah, I guess.”

Jisung wasn’t discouraged by the cold response. He lightly perched on the edge of the table, his hands under his chin, eyes sparkling.

“You know, you could smile a little. It’d make me happy,” he added, tilting his head almost pleadingly.

Seungmin sighed softly, but a faint smile eventually broke through.

“Alright, alright, I’m glad to be here.”

Jisung burst into laughter, satisfied, and went back to his duties, his belly bouncing slightly with each step. Chan smiled at the interaction. Despite Seungmin’s distant demeanor, he seemed to enjoy Jisung’s company, even if he refused to admit it openly.

Then, turning his head, Chan spotted Felix, the "thinnest" maid, though still with voluptuous curves. He had just finished serving a table and had discreetly retreated to a corner. He sat with a sigh, his hips and thighs clearly outlined by the tight costume he wore. Chan watched as Felix discreetly loosened the strings of his apron, muttering to himself.

“This thing is really getting too tight these days…”

Felix sighed and let out a small amused laugh before standing up again to return to his service. Chan couldn’t help but feel a bit of sympathy for him. Each maid here seemed completely comfortable with their body, despite their roundness, and Chan wondered how they could have such confidence.

But just as he was lost in thought, a soft yet mischievous voice pulled him out of his reverie.

“Can I help you, sir?”

Chan jumped. Felix was now standing right in front of him, a smile on his lips. He must have been watching him for a while, waiting for Chan to notice.

“Oh, uh… I was just looking at the menu…” Chan stammered, fidgeting in his seat.

Felix gave him an encouraging smile and nodded before discreetly walking away, but not without giving him one last playful wink.

With slightly sweaty hands, Chan tried to focus on the menu. He knew he had to choose a maid, but which one? His heart beat faster as he glanced at the four maids scattered around the room. Each had a unique presence, but his gaze kept returning to Minho.

Minho was the most corpulent of the group, a majestic, imposing rabbit with a distinct double belly and thick thighs. He walked slowly, almost deliberately, as if he knew exactly the effect he had on those around him. His wide hips swayed slightly with each step, and despite his size, there was a feline grace in his movements. The more Chan looked at him, the more he felt a knot of anxiety form in his stomach.

He took a deep breath, trying to summon some courage. “I’ll choose Minho,” he finally whispered to himself.

A few moments later, Minho approached, a playful smile on his lips. He leaned in slightly, his eyes glinting with amusement.

“You didn’t look at me much earlier,” he said softly, with a teasing grin. “Are you already ignoring me?”

Chan felt his cheeks flush red and quickly lowered his gaze.

Chan felt his stomach tighten as Minho sat across from him, a mischievous smile plastered on his face. He had always been easily intimidated by people with such confidence, but with Minho, it was more than that. There was something magnetic about him, something in the way he moved, the way he spoke, that left Chan completely disarmed.

Minho rested his elbows on the table, leaning slightly forward, his soft belly pressing against the edge. His gaze never left Chan, and a playful smile still hovered on his lips.

“So, Chan… what brings you here?” he asked, his voice soft but laced with a hint of teasing. “It’s your first time in a place like this, isn’t it? I can see it in your face.”

Chan blinked, slightly caught off guard by the direct question.

“Well… yes,” he replied, glancing away slightly. “I… my friends told me about this café, and I thought that…”

Minho chuckled softly, cutting him off before he could finish.

“Ah, so your friends dragged you here? You don’t seem like the type to come on your own.”

Chan squirmed in his seat, uncomfortable under Minho’s piercing gaze.

“No, it’s not that... I guess I was just curious.”

Minho raised an eyebrow, his smile widening.

“Curious? Curious about what? Me, perhaps?”

Chan’s face heated up instantly. He opened his mouth to respond, but no sound came out. Minho seemed amused by his embarrassment and continued, resting his chin on one hand.

“So, why me then? Why choose me? I’m sure Felix or Jisung caught your eye too, didn’t they?” he asked, casting a glance at his colleagues who were serving other customers.

“I... I don’t know,” Chan stammered, unable to find an answer that wouldn’t give him away completely. “It’s just that… you seem… interesting.”

Minho laughed again, this time louder, attracting a few glances from around the café.

“Interesting, huh?” he said, his eyes glinting with mischief. “You like me, don’t you?”

Chan quickly shook his head, too embarrassed to respond directly, but he couldn’t help smiling shyly. Minho seemed to enjoy teasing him, and it wasn’t likely to stop anytime soon. Finally, Minho lightly tapped the menu with his fingers, changing the subject to ease Chan’s discomfort.

“Alright, let’s order something. Have you looked at the menu yet?”

Chan nodded slightly.

“A little... but I don’t really know what to get.”

Minho smiled, then leaned in closer, so much so that Chan could feel the warmth emanating from his large body. He went over the menu with Chan, explaining each dish with a sort of casual expertise.

“So, there’s the big chocolate cake—it’s a classic. Super moist, but if you take more than a bite, you might not be able to move afterward.” He winked. “Then there’s the pancakes, but they’re huge, with way too much whipped cream. Perfect for anyone with a serious sweet tooth.”

Chan listened carefully, but he found it hard to focus on the menu. His gaze kept drifting to Minho, watching the way his lips moved as he spoke, the way his broad shoulders seemed even larger as he leaned in. Every movement Minho made seemed calculated to hold his attention.

“And finally, the pudding,” Minho announced with a certain pride in his voice. “My favorite. Ultra-creamy, perfectly sweet, and so big that no one can finish it alone. Except me, of course.”

He chuckled lightly, and Chan felt a strange pressure build in his stomach. Before he could think too much about it, he nodded.

“Okay, I’ll have the pudding.”

Minho grinned, satisfied, then placed the order. A few minutes later, a waitress brought over the dessert, and Chan was shocked by the size of the portion.

“Oh my God…” he breathed, unable to hold back his reaction.

The pudding was gigantic. It was overflowing with whipped cream, with a mountain of caramelized fruits piled on top. It was a true work of art, but also a calorie bomb.

“Impressive, right?” Minho commented with a smirk. “I told you. Too big for you, but just right for me.”

Chan couldn’t help but look at Minho in admiration. As he took his first bite, he was immediately overwhelmed by the rich, sweet flavor. But after only a few spoonfuls, he realized there was no way he could finish it on his own.

“Minho… I can’t eat all this,” Chan admitted, setting down his spoon.

Minho laughed, clearly pleased.

“I knew you couldn’t,” he said, opening his mouth wide with a playful smile. “Come on, feed me.”

Chan’s heart raced. It was so unexpected, but strangely exciting. His hand trembled slightly as he scooped up a spoonful and brought it to Minho’s mouth. Minho let out a satisfied sigh as he swallowed, his lips slowly closing around the spoon.

“Hmm… perfect,” he murmured. “Keep going.”

Chan obeyed, unable to take his eyes off Minho, completely mesmerized by the way he savored each bite. Every time Chan brought the spoon closer, Minho smiled in that satisfied, teasing way, his eyes sparkling with mischief. With each spoonful, Chan felt his heart beat a little faster.

Eventually, after several bites, Minho patted his round belly, which looked even fuller now.

“Ah, that’s enough... I’m really stuffed now.”

Chan let out a nervous laugh, unable to hide his excitement. He knew the café rules clearly stated that touching the maids was forbidden, but Minho, as if reading his thoughts, took Chan’s hand and gently placed it on his full belly.

“Go on, give it a little rub. I won’t say anything,” he whispered with a playful wink.

With trembling hands, Chan began to gently rub Minho’s full stomach. The warmth radiating from his body, the soft, plush feeling under his fingers... It was almost too much for him. Minho closed his eyes, letting out a satisfied sigh.

“Ahh… that feels good,” he murmured.

Chan’s heart was racing. It was so intimate, so bold. He never imagined he’d find himself in such a situation when he came here. After a few moments, Minho slowly opened his eyes, a satisfied smile still on his lips.

“Thank you, Chan,” he said softly, his voice low and warm.

As the moment came to an end, Minho straightened up slightly and pulled out a small notebook from his pocket. He quickly scribbled something on the bill before sliding it over to Chan.

“I’ll leave the bill with you,” he said with a mischievous smile.

Chan hesitated, but his heart skipped a beat when he saw what was written on it. Just below the total, Minho had written his phone number.

“If you want to see me after work… you know where to find me,” he added with a wink before getting up to attend to another customer.

Chan sat there, holding Minho’s number in his hand, his heart still racing.

Now he understng better why his friend tell him this would be a life changing experience

[simpinghour]

Cake and Pears at 2am Hange x fem! reader

Summary: What is meant to be a casual night out to hang with Mikasa and friends leads you to meeting the very dapper, very suave even though they sometimes remind you of a golden retriever, Hange.

This was meant to be a mafia AU and there are light mentions of it but that's not the focus. Here you'll read about a fem!reader who is 14 years younger than a nonbinary Hange but doesnt let that stop her from dating them. 

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Nonbinary Hange, gothkasa, Strap on sex, loss of virginity with strap on, this is smutty as hell and I have no regrets, side Eruri, Side Eremika, Squirting, Oral Sex, Fingering, also side Mikenana, Yelena needs her ass kicked, age gap, but not a creepy age gap I promise, I had to do so much research about strap ons for this damn fic

Ao3 link 

Chapter 1

First you didn’t feel like going out. Then Mikasa wheedled until you gave in, and you asked what you should wear.

“Anything is fine. Wear your regular clothes.”

And that was how you ended up wearing an ankle length black linen dress, feeling completely out of place when turning up at Mikasa’s cousin’s bar.

The plan was to have a quick drink to start off the evening. How you ended up drinking by yourself was a mystery, but you suspected it was likely due to Mikasa getting in a quickie with her boyfriend and losing track of time.

I hope the dick is good because I’m going to kill you and Eren when you get here, you quickly texted Mikasa while trying to ignore the drunken man to your right doing the most to get your attention.

“Either drink this and stop harassing our guests or get the fuck out. Your choice,” you hear someone say.

You look up to find a guy with short dark hair and an undercut who eerily resembles Mikasa pushing a glass of water across the bar top while glaring at the man bothering you. A quick glance at the man shows that he looks as though he’d been scared sober, because he takes the water and scuttles in the other direction without another word.

“Tch. Asshole,” the guy says in disgust before he flicks a dishcloth at a spot of moisture on the bar. “You okay?” he asks.

“I’m good, thanks. I would be great if my friend Mikasa didn’t have me here waiting like an idiot.”

He scoffs again. “So you’re friends with my cousin. No doubt she’s glued to that idiot boyfriend of hers.”

“I’m guessing you don’t care much for Eren,” you reply, biting back a laugh.

“Hmm,” he grunts. “She could do better, but I guess she could also do worse.”

He doesn’t offer further commentary and moves to the other end of the bar. You go back to fiddling with your phone and sipping on your drink.

Ten minutes later you get hit on again, this time by a tall blonde who is admittedly attractive but too damn pushy for your tastes.

“Don’t be like that,” she says, reaching down to wrap long, rough fingers around your wrist.

The last thing you want to do is cause a scene; not only is this a club for members only, but everyone here is at least fifteen years older than you. On top of that, Mikasa vaguely mentioned something about her cousin’s bar being a mafia hang out, but she didn’t answer or give more details when you outright asked if her cousin was in the mafia.

As you think back to the way the guy harassing you earlier looked like he was going to wet himself when the dark-haired guy glared at him, you think the answer is yes.

“Yelena, leave the young lady alone before I have Levi ban your ass,” a raspy voice interrupts in a way that seems light yet has a casually threatening undertone.

The woman named Yelena takes her hand off you and you peer around her to find the owner of the voice.

You were aware that you were likely gawking, but you hadn’t expected to see a lithe brunet dressed in a three-piece suit that clung to them like a second skin. Their hair was sort of long but had been pulled up in a partial ponytail, and a few strands framing square-rimmed glasses and a pair of warm brown eyes were the second things you saw. The unamused expression on their face was the next.

“You and I both know why you’re acting like this,” they continue, staring unblinkingly at Yelena.

You know this person came to your defense, but you can’t help feeling intimidated. Then Yelena sighs dramatically and backs up a few steps.

“No harm done, Hange. It was just a bit of fun.”

“Bit of fun, my ass. You’re only here because we like Onyankopon. Now move along.”

Yelena stares hard while slinking away and the person called Hange leans against the bar to peer down at you.

“Sorry about that,” they apologize while sticking out a hand. “Hange Zoe. I don’t think I’ve seen you here before.”

“This is my first time,” you explain after giving your name and shaking their hand. “I’m supposed to be meeting some friends here but they’re extremely late.”

“Oh? Anyone I know?”

“Mikasa and her dumb boyfriend Eren. And I think our friend Armin if he’s not glued to his computer.”

“Ohh, you’re Mikasa’s friend. Levi told us some of you would be stopping by tonight.” Hange turned to look across the room and pointed to a table. “Wanna join us while you wait?”

You peer over to see a man with shaggy blond hair sitting there, engaged in conversation with another man who had neatly styled brighter blond hair as well as a stunning blonde woman with a short haircut that fits her face perfectly. Levi, who you learn is in fact Mikasa’s cousin when pointed out by Hange, is in the middle of sliding into the booth with the two men and a lady. They all seem equal parts classy but intimidating, and it immediately sets you on edge. They’re nothing like anyone you’ve been around before and you’re in fear of making some serious social faux pas.

“I don’t want to intrude,” you protest.

“You aren’t. Besides, it’ll piss off the blonde who just got grabby with you.”

“Okay, only if you don’t mind,” you agree, picking up your glass. “Who was that, an ex of yours?”

A wry look cross Hange’s face as they lead you across the bar.

“You could say that. Say, what is that you’re drinking? It looks tasty.”

“It’s called a Red Devil. Not everyone knows how to make it but this guy with brown hair knew what I was talking about. He made it perfectly too; some people use too much gin and it tastes disgusting like that.”

“If he had on a blue shirt that’s Moblit and yup, he makes the best drinks.”

When you and Hange reach the table they introduce you to everyone. Nanaba is friendly and Miche is polite but doesn’t seem like a big talker, although Erwin and Levi have plenty to say. Hange orders you another drink without you asking and you sit on the outside of the booth, sipping on your second Red Devil while wondering how the hell you ended up at the table of Mikasa’s cousin and his friends.

You guesstimate that the jacket alone to their suits is equal to the price of a month’s rent. And you don’t know much about watches, but you definitely know what a Rolex is and every person at the table except you is wearing one. Correction, Miche and Nanaba have on his and her Patek Philipe watches.

Eventually someone else equally well-dressed joins the table, the tall man with brown hair named Moblit who happens to be the person that made your drink.

“Are you and Hange going to drink one another under the table tonight?” Levi asks, and Hange grins broadly.

“No,” they laugh. “But now that I think about it, I could use a snack. Are there any olives in the back?”

“Yes, for the cocktails,” Levi hisses, looking scandalized as though Hange suggested snacking on earthworms.

“Actually, I bought a large bag of mixed olives because I know you like them,” Erwin interjects, ignoring the way Levi glares at him.

“I thought I was the only one who ate olives on their own,” you murmur, and Hange’s face lights up.

“I guess you’ll share with me, right? Hold on, I’ll be right back.”

“Hange, don’t you break my damn bar!” Levi yells over the booth as Hange hurries in the direction of a closed door. “And bring something to put them in!”

You’re wondering why Hange needs to be told to bring something for the olives, and bite back a laugh at the image of them eating olives right off the tabletop. Soon they return, arms laden with a small stack of bowls and the olives.

Erwin hadn’t been lying; the bag of mixed olives he bought was enormous. It easily rivaled the size of a food container one would find at a food co-op. Hange tries to cut it open with a pocketknife but with speed-lightning deftness, Levi reaches over and snatches it out their grasp.

“I’ve got it, before the whole fucking thing ends up all over the floor,” he grumbles, pulling out his own pocketknife from somewhere and neatly slitting open the bag.

“You are so weird,” Miche says, watching Hange pour a generous portion of olives into two paper bowls. They stab a toothpick into a green olive atop both mounds and push a bowl in your direction.

“See, Miche? I told you I wasn’t the only one who ate olives like this,” Hange tells him, brandishing a toothpick with a black olive on the end before popping it in their mouth.

The entire situation is laughable. The idea that the stunning human in a bespoke suit has the personality of a golden retriever yet can clearly switch to that of a guard dog with a killer bite is unfathomable. Either way, you’re having a good time and don’t think the night can get any stranger. But you’re soon proven wrong.

Miche excuses himself and as he crosses you to get out the booth, he pauses and loudly sniffs your hair. Hange explains that it’s a thing he does and he means no harm, but then he says your hair smells good. Nanaba says she noticed the same thing too, and then everyone else says they also agreed.

Everyone starts throwing out names of expensive parfums that would probably take you a month or more to save for if you wanted a bottle. You tell everyone that it’s not perfume you’re wearing, they’re smelling the hair oil you used on your ends. That prompts a conversation about your tight curls and you’re explaining that your hair tends to get dry and needs extra moisture when Mikasa finally shows up. Eren is behind her, trying to pretend that he isn’t hiding from Levi and failing miserably. Armin is also there and he’s smiling nervously. Mikasa looks confused when she sees you sitting with her cousin and his friends, but her expression barely gives away anything.

“Hey brat, why’d you make your friend wait all this time?” Levi asks her.

“Eren and I lost track of time,” Mikasa offers dismissively, sniffing as she looks away.

“Tch. I bet,” Levi scoffs, narrowing his eyes and the increasingly nervous Eren. Armin also looks anxious, but mostly because he likely feels like a third wheel knowing what his two best friends were doing that caused them to be late.

“I don’t want to keep you from your friends,” Hange tells you with a smile. “Thanks for keeping me company.”

You really don’t want to leave but know it would be rude to not join Mikasa and the others. So you thank Hange and everyone else and reluctantly leave their table.

You’re oddly quiet while sitting with your friends, yet they’re too busy quarrelling over something to notice. When you cast a surreptitious glance over at Hange, they’re laughing loudly at something while slapping Miche’s shoulder. You feel a stab of envy, wishing you were the one to make them laugh when they suddenly turn in your direction and wink at you. Before you can react, they’ve turned back to their friends and you’re left wondering if you imagined everything.

Eren and Armin go to fetch drinks and when they return, Armin hands you another Red Devil and a glass of water. You notice that everyone also has water along with their drink and Eren asks Mikasa why her cousin made him also take water. The answer comes in the form of Mikasa shooting Levi a nasty glare across the bar and he returns her look with an eerily similar one.

“He hates sloppy drunks,” Mikasa explains. “This is his way of telling us to have fun but not too much fun. I watched him make someone mop up their own puke before throwing them out on more than one occasion.”

“Your cousin is scary,” Armin says, warily eyeing his cocktail as though unsure if he should drink it.

You finish your Red Devil a little too fast and become the teeniest bit tipsy—okay, you’re drunk—and decide to wobble outside, in desperate need of fresh air. Just as you take a deep breath and close your eyes, you hear the door open and someone else walks outside.

“Needed a breather?” Hange asks with an unlit cigar held between their teeth. They reach into their pocket to pull out a box of wooden matches and some other metal tubular object on a ring. “It’s a hole punch for cigars,” they explain when they see you staring. “It gives a better flavor as you smoke opposed to completely cutting off the tip.”

“Yeah, I got a little hot in there,” you reply. “So are cigars good? I’ve never tried one.”

“The right cigar is very good,” Hange explains, taking the cigar from their mouth and punching a hole into the end. They put it back into their mouth and strike a match and you’re captivated by their long fingers cupping the flame while bringing it up to their cigar. A few twirls between two fingers ensures that its lit evenly and Hange takes a few pulls and exhales a grey cloud into the cool night air. “Darker cigars—maduro they’re called— have a smoother taste. A lot of people think the lighter ones do but those tend to be harsh on the throat.”

You’re really drunk and wonder if you’ll remember this impromptu lesson on cigars, but mostly you’re enthralled with watching Hange smoke while looking like the picture of ease in their vest, the other hand in their trouser pocket.

“Would you like to try it?” they ask suddenly, and you realize they’re smiling while holding it out to you.

“You don’t mind?”

“Nah,” they reply, nudging their hand again in your direction. “Go on. Don’t suck too hard though, it’ll taste awful if you do.”

You feel awkward as you take the cigar and try to ignore the sensation of Hange’s fingers brushing against yours. Without their jacket on you catch a whiff of their cologne; something sweet yet musky with a hint of wood and vanilla. It mingles perfectly with the cigar smoke and the aroma leaves you light-headed.

Okay, girl, you really need to calm down, you tell yourself, lifting the cigar to your lips.

Normally you’d be disgusted by the idea of putting your mouth on something that was just in the mouth of someone you barely knew, but you aren’t for some reason. The tip of the cigar is damp and you brush way the intrusive thought that this is an indirect kiss, but you take a soft pull as directed and are shocked to find that it indeed tastes good.

“Nice, right?” Hange asks when they see your eyebrows raised in surprise.

“It is, actually,” you admit, handing the cigar back to them. “It’s sort of chocolatey but earthy? Makes me think of a nice latte.”

“Yes! Some people do have cigars with coffee, as well as chocolate and some teas.”

“That sounds nice.”

“It is. If you ever want a recommendation, I’d be happy to help.”

Just as you’re about to say yes, the door opens and Mikasa sticks out her head.

“Oh, here you are,” she says. “Sasha just texted me to see if we wanted to meet up with her and Jean at the diner.”

“Did any of you drive here?” Hange asks.

Mikasa shakes her head. “We took an Uber.”

“Me too,” you chime in.

“All right. If you need help getting home let one of us know.”

**

The rest of the night is uneventful and boring compared to how it started. Mikasa had her limit of alcohol and used Eren’s shoulder as a pillow for an impromptu nap. Armin’s face is flushed and he keeps complaining that he’s hot and his hair is annoying him. You dig two satin scrunchies out your purse and put his hair into two tiny pigtails and he is visibly relieved. Armin keeps his pigtails in and when Mikasa finally wakes up, she asks Eren if she’s seeing things while staring at Armin.

“I got hot,” Armin replies without further explanation.

“And on that note, I think it’s time to go,” you tell your friends. “I’m going to say goodnight to Hange and your cousin and his friends,” you add, looking at Mikasa who is laying back on Eren’s shoulder. She nods and remains silent, clearly not giving a shit.

“We’re going to leave now but I wanted to thank you,” you tell Hange, who is sitting in the booth with Moblit. “Did everyone else leave?”

“Nanaba and Miche did, and Erwin and Levi are probably making sure things are tidied up before they close. You said you all came in an Uber, right?”

“Yeah, I’m going to order one in a minute.”

Hange reaches into their vest pocket and pulls out their phone. They tap at the screen a few times and then hand it to you. “Just put in wherever you want to go.”

You see that they’re booking an Uber pool for you in an SUV which you know costs a grip.

“I’ll pay you back,” you tell Hange, and they wave dismissively.

“No need. The only thing you need to do is make sure you all get home safely.”

Hange waits outside with you all and you’re disappointed when the driver arrives faster than you anticipated.

“It was really nice meeting you,” they tell you, taking your hand and stroking the top with their thumb. That small touch leaves you speechless and you want to say more but Mikasa is yelling for you to get in the damn truck.

“You too,” you tell Hange, flashing them a smile before getting in the truck and shutting the door. You watch their retreating figure out the window until you’re out of sight, and then you feel immense regret at not asking for their phone number.

Shit.

“You like Hange, don’t you?” Mikasa asks a week later when you two are having a girl’s night at her place, although her sentence sounds more like a statement.

“What makes you think that?” you ask, wondering how the hell you’ve been caught.

Mikasa shrugs, leaning in close to a mirror and relining her lower lids with a smudgy black eyeliner pencil. “It was obvious that night. Well, obvious to me that is.”

“How the hell could anything be obvious to you? You were two hours late!”

“I only needed ten minutes at most to figure out that you like Hange,” Mikasa continues, now working on the other eye. “You wouldn’t stop looking at them.”

“Well, they’re good-looking. So they are non-binary, right? I didn’t want to be rude and ask since I’d just met them but that’s the impression I got from listening to everyone else speak.”

“Yeah, they are.”

“Cool. There was a woman named Yelena there too. She’s Hange’s ex?”

“She is, that bitch. They broke up a few months ago because Yelena’s a conniving, manipulative asshole. Levi didn’t like her from the start. Although it’s not as if he likes many people from the start.”

“He’s probably good at sniffing out bullshit,” you tell Mikasa, thinking back to her stern-faced cousin.

“He is and it’s annoying at times. He’s rarely wrong though, not that I’d admit it to him. Anyway, should I ask Levi for Hange’s number so you can text them?”

“No! I can’t do that.”

Now Mikasa is lining her lips in black, and you see her eyeing you through the mirror.

“Why not?” she asked, leaning closer to perfect the sharp lines at her cupid’s bow.

“Because I… I don’t know.”

Mikasa sighs and turns around to face you. “Listen, I know you’ve always been too shy to flirt with someone who wasn’t a man, and I get it. Men are simple as shit and think a girl likes them if she blinks in his direction. But Hange isn’t some big bad wolf who’s going to attack you. You two can meet for coffee or something casual.”

You know that Mikasa is right, and there’s a stretch of silence before you speak again.

“Fine. Text your cousin. But if Hange isn’t interested, do me a favor and please don’t tell me.”

“You got it, you dramatic weirdo. Honestly, you’re weird and Hange is weirder. You two should get on like a house on fire.”

“That’s an awful analogy, Mikasa,” you groan, flopping over onto your other side. “Can you do my makeup when you’re done?”

The corner of Mikasa’s lip lifts slightly and you know your tactic to distract her was fruitful. For some reason, Mikasa loves putting eyeliner on all her friends. Eren fussed that it made his eyes itch, but Armin allowed Mikasa to do whatever she wanted. You also didn’t mind; you found that someone else doing your makeup was relaxing, and sometimes you fell asleep and let Mikasa do whatever she wanted.

“You’re actually going to let me do your entire face?”

“I’ll do whatever you want me to do, Yoda.”

“Ugh, like I said—weirdo.”

“Yeah, but you love me.”

“Sure. Now be quiet while I clean your skin.”

You’re lying flat on Mikasa’s bed while she swipes a cotton pad soaked with micellar water across your cheek when you speak again. “So what else do you know about Hange?”

“They’re older than us but you know that already. I think they’re forty? Something like that; I only remember because I know Levi is a few years older.”

“Wow, I figured they were a few years older than us. I didn’t think there was a fourteen-year difference.”

“Yeah. They’re also smart as hell. Two doctorates I think and run a lab. Also an adjunct professor if I remember correctly.”

“Well now I’m a little intimidated,” you admit quietly.

“I don’t know why. This is the same Hange who blew up hard-boiled eggs in the microwave at Levi and Erwin’s house because they forgot that you can’t microwave eggs.”

“Okay, that’s actually funny.”

“It is, but the runt didn’t think so. He cursed out Hange, made them scrub it twice and cursed them out some more when they didn’t clean it to his standards.”

You think back to Levi fussing about Hange spilling olive brine all over his bar and fight back a laugh.

“I had a good time with Hange and their friends until you and Eren came. They’re really funny.”

“Yeah, they’re cool. I’ve known most of them since I was a kid.”

Mikasa is now working on your eyeliner so you stay quiet so she can concentrate.

“Let’s go outside when I’m finished your makeup,” she says, using a short eyeshadow brush to buff out the pencil liner. “I need to smoke and I also got that wine you like.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” you reply with a tiny grin.

Twenty minutes later, you and Mikasa are out on her balcony that’s been decked in orange lights that were meant for Halloween but are year-round decorations for her. Mikasa brought out her phone and speaker and a darkwave mix is playing in the background while you two puff on cloves and sip wine.

“I texted Levi for Hange’s number, by the way,” Mikasa says casually, blowing a puff of smoke out into the night air. “No doubt he’s wrapped around uncle Erwin right now so his phone is probably turned off.”

“Shit, thanks Mikasa. Now I’m going to be a nervous wreck all night.”

“I have something stronger than cloves if you want. There’s edibles and gummies; pick your poison.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, thanks.”

[bengiyo]

She Loves to Cook and She Loves to Eat 2 Eps 9-12 Stray Thoughts

Last time, Nomoto and her new online friend had a watch party and discussed the nature of asexuality and homosexuality coexisting, and Nomoto shared about being in love with Kasuga; I'm a big fan of Yako. The ladies managed to connect more with Nagumo, and we learned she has an eating disorder where she can't eat in front of strangers. However, she did make donuts with them and took some home. Kasuga also managed to sever ties with her father after thinking about it and talking with other women. She asked if Nomoto would support her, and of course she did. I will never stop thinking about the Chosen Family scene.

Episode 9

Yes, Yako, coach her. We cannot let them exit this season without talking through their feelings for each other.

I have never identified with a character more than Yako. I would also enjoy my food and wine while watching my friend sweat over the crush.

Yako backstory! It really is hard in your teens when you are deeply out of alignment with other queers about sex.

The power went out and Kasuga immediately went to check on Nomoto. You love to see it.

NOMOTO IS WEARING ONE OF KASUGA'S SWEATERS, AND KASUGA JUST PULLED LINT FROM HER HAIR. THIS IS NOT A DRILL.

Thank you, Nagumo! It would be awkward as hell to sit in this zone of lesbian love and not know what stage we were on!

We have verbal confirmation that Kasuga likes Nomoto! Nagumo, you are our champion! You have to get these two to the next level!!

Currently dwelling on Kasuga not lying when asked directly about her feelings. There's a difference between being out and letting people in, and I like that Kasuga told her truth to Nagumo.

Episode 10

Their project manager is at least being upfront with them that they're being asked to rebuild the entire app.

Sorry, Kasuga, but it's not often we escape compulsory heterosexuality and still have a positive interaction in a sales environment like this.

Nagumo, I love you. You have finally given us a reason to have Kasuga voice her thoughts aloud.

This show really said plainly that the presumption of heteronormativity hurts and upsets people who don't fit that mold.

I really love this show detailing how harrowing pining is when you don't know if the other person is queer and the relationship you've built means so much to you.

Episode 11

Episode 21, you aired on Valentine's Day. Please don't let me down.

This former Valentine's Day and White Day gifting tradition sounds tedious as hell.

I didn't expect Kasuga's family troubles to end with that one phone call, and here goes the aunt downplaying Kasuga's feelings and bulldozing over her expressed boundaries.

Okay, Mikami! Way to come through for my girls!!

I wanna have hotpot so bad right now.

I'm so nervous about these chocolates!!

Damn, this cake looks good. I like putting the whipped cream on the side.

Kasuga picked out different chocolates! I'm so proud of her!

Now, Kasuga, why would you go and crush me like that on Valentine's Day? I know why you need to move, but goddamn.

Episode 12

Invoices for raising her? Vile.

Queers apologizing for being selfish when they confess will never not make me cry.

I'm sorry I got a bit testy at the dramatic cliffhanger, Kasuga. You came through for me exactly the way I hoped. Y'all should definitely find a bigger place together and stay in touch with Nagumo.

"I am very delighted and also taken aback." She's like me and I love her.

Aww that was so beautiful, and she's still crying.

I'm so glad she told Sayama immediately. We stay winning.

Man, I just watched I Only Want to See You, and I'm feeling the same difficulty in the transition from friendship to romance in the relationship.

Yes, ladies, thank you for talking through telling others and reaffirming that this is definitely a romance. Let's make sure no one, especially the audience, misunderstands.

I love how Nomoto bursts into tears when she swoons.

Oh snap the whole squad is going to meet Yako next week!!!

We did it, y'all! We got to see them confess their feelings and start dating. I'm so looking forward to seeing their relationship grow and mature, and I'm actually looking forward to the move and the attendant drama that brings. I hope Nagumo doesn't end up thinking that asking about their relationship somehow cost her the relationship she's been building with them. This was an excellent week of episodes.

Big thanks to @furritsubs for making this possible.