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#You're almost thirty
podcastwizard · 1 year
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me: hey trying to watch "once upon a time" again might be fun. i remember the first season well enough so i can start on the second. might have to check the wiki for a detail or two.
the first wiki i pull up:
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me: how the hell do you people do this
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blushweddinggowns · 9 months
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“Escrow’s almost over,” Eddie grinned as he hung up the phone, “I just have to go down there and resign the check, but after that we’re in the clear.”
He waltzed over to Steve, wrapping an arm around his waist to pull him against his chest, “In less than twenty four hours, we’re going to be homeowners.”
Steve grinned back, running his hands up and down Eddie’s chest with half-lidded eyes, “Sexier words have never been spoken.”
Eddie chuckled, cheeks a little pink at Steve’s low tone, “Real-estate turns you on?”
“Mmhm. Co home ownership with my illegal husband? Doesn’t get hotter than that.”
“Kinky,” Eddie smiled, leaning in to start nibbling on Steve’s ear, “You’re making me not want to leave.”
“Well tough,” Steve laughed, pushing Eddie towards the door, “But the sooner you get back the sooner we can celebrate.”
Eddie pressed a quick kiss to his lips before leaving, groaning when Steve pushed him back when he tried to get his tongue in his mouth,“If I get a speeding ticket I’m blaming you.”
“I’ll take full responsibility.”
Steve locked the door behind him, smiling to himself as he heard Eddie grumble his way down the stairs. He was barely two steps away from it when someone started knocking. Steve rolled his eyes, as he went back to answer it, a teasing comment already on his tongue, “Did you forget your keys again- oh.” 
Steve paused, eyes wide at the sight of Mike Wheeler on his front door step, alone. He looked nervous, fidgeting while he kept his eyes down, “Can I uh, come in?”
Steve stepped aside, brow raised as Mike walked past him into the hall, “Eddie’s not actually here right now, but if you want to wait for him-”
“I know,” Mike interrupted, slumping down onto one of their couches, “I passed him on the stairs. I’m here to talk to you.” 
That was…weird. Mike wasn’t exactly his biggest fan. It’s not like they hated each other or anything, but they weren’t close. They more…tolerated each other. Mainly because they both loved the same people, but they just never clicked. It also didn’t help that Steve had been the cause for many a rescheduled DnD session, for admittedly, strictly horny reasons. 
Even now, with the California trio moving to Boston they hadn’t found a rhythm together. They only really interacted in group settings, with some kind of buffer between them. 
Steve sat across from him feeling a little lost when he asked,  “Uh, what can I do for you?”
“You didn’t always know you were gay right?” Mike blurted, immediately getting into it, “Like…you used to like girls didn’t you?”
“Well…technically I’m not gay. I’m bi,” Steve corrected, frowning at Mike’s confused look. Though he couldn’t exactly blame him. Hell, he didn’t know what that word meant until he was almost twenty-one, “Like bi-sexual? When you like both? Like your literal sister-”
“Please don’t talk about Nancy right now,” Mike groaned, hiding his face in his hands, “This is embarrassing enough. Did you always know or not?”
“No, I didn’t always know I was into dudes,” Steve admitted with a shrug, “I never even considered them an option when I was younger. I liked girls, so I thought that was enough proof that I was straight. Until,” He gestured to the ring on his left hand, “Y’know.”
“But I don’t know!” Mike cried out, loud enough to make Steve jump a little, “I don’t know anything! Like what? You saw Eddie one day and you were magically queer?”
“Not exactly,” Steve laughed, slowly but surely catching on to where this conversation was going. Directness seemed like the best approach for this one,“When it came to Eddie, it was more…falling in love first and then realizing I wanted to fuck him.”
“Dude!”
Steve shrugged, “You asked.”
“But it can’t just be that easy!” Mike insisted, a few frustrated tears showing up in the corner of his eyes, “How can it be that easy?”
“Hey, hey calm down,” Steve said with a frown. He didn’t really know what to do here. He had methods for talking down the other kids, but he was at a loss when it came to Mike. This was an Eddie or Nancy thing and Steve wasn’t quite sure why he was coming to him.
He opted for tossing him a box of kleenex, politely looking away when he wiped at his eyes while he answered his question, “Why can’t it be that easy? I fell in love with a man, I figured out I was attracted to him. Had a minor crisis, and now we’re living happily ever after. It’s as simple as that.”
Mike rolled his eyes, which…fair enough. And at least he wasn’t crying. Besides, no one could really handle how sappy Steve got when he was talking about Eddie. But he was being honest.
“But what made you know for sure?” Mike pressed, “What was the moment?”
“It was a lot of moments man. They kind of just…added up to love eventually. But if you mean when did I realize it was real then…well do you want the PG version or the real version?”
Mike bit his lip, considering, “Um, PG please.”
“PG version, Robin talked me through my gay thoughts and helped me figure out what it all meant.”
Mike nodded, hesitating before asking, “What’s…the real version?”
“I saw his dick once and realized I wanted it in my mouth.”
“Oh my god,” Mike groaned, hiding his face in his hands, “I don’t know what I expected from you. I really don’t.”
“Well it might help if you’d just tell me why you’re asking,” Steve huffed. Though he had a pretty strong feeling that he already knew what it was, “Mike, what’s going on?”
“It’s…Will,” He finally admitted, staring at his hands, “Ever since we moved here I haven't been able to stop thinking about him. About us and it’s driving me fucking crazy!”
Now that he was talking, it was like he couldn’t stop, “And I’ve never felt like romantic things for him. Or at least I didn’t think I did. But I always thought that…if only he was born a girl y’know? Then he’d be perfect for me. A-and I kept thinking that right? And I kept trying to find someone just like him. And it kind of worked for a while, at least when we were all living together.”
It was official. Mike was having his baby gay moment, as Robin would have called it. Steve’s eyes softened as he watched him stumble through his words, very empathetic to what he was feeling,“What changed?”
Mike sighed, voice cracking when he answered, “When we were all together, we had this deal that we wouldn’t bring people home because like, who wants to hear their brother or sister doing shit right? And we were this weird little family and it worked. But now El lives with Max and Lucas, and it’s just us. And now…he brings guys home Steve.”
This little talk was rapidly steering into the territory of shit that Steve did not want to know. But he was going to be supportive of Mike’s little gay awakening, even if it was going to break his delusion of all of his children being pure virgins. He swallowed, forcing himself to keep the conversation going, “And that bothers you?”
“Does it bother me? It’s fucking infuriating! And it’s not even about them being loud. Most of the time I can’t even hear anything, but it’s the fact that they're even there at all that pisses me off.”
“And why is that?” Steve asked. The answer was obvious, he just didn’t know if Mike knew it or not. He kind of had the urge to shake him a bit, and Steve couldn’t help but wonder if this is how Robin felt when she was talking to him.
“Because…” Mike sighed, “I don’t know. I-I don’t think I’m gay.”
“You don’t have to be gay to like Will.”
“I don’t like Will,” Mike corrected, face red, “I love him. I’ve always loved him. But it’s never felt like this before. And I don’t know what to do with it. I don’t…I can’t try and start something that I don’t know I’ll finish.”
“You’re right,” Steve agreed. If Mike broke Will’s heart there would be at least five people in line to beat his ass, “But what makes you think it wouldn’t work?”
“Because I’m not gay-”
“Forget that for a second,” Steve interrupted, “The label doesn’t matter. How do you feel about Will?”
Mike was fidgeting in his seat, nervously thoughtful, “I…I don’t want him to see anyone else.”
“Why?”
Mike sighed, voice shaky when he admitted, “Because…because he belongs with me.”
“And what would that look like? Him belonging with you?”
“I don’t know.”
“Yes you do,” Steve pressed, “You wouldn’t be here if you’d never thought about it.”
Mike was staring at the floor, talking like the words were being psychically pulled out of him, “It would just be us. And I would be the person he would come to for the things he wanted. Everything he wanted. I’d be the one he talked to when he had a problem. I’d be the one he’d cuddle with after a long day. I’d be the one to take care of him.”
Steve nodded along, a small smile on his face when he asked, “Is kissing involved with this whole domestic bliss vision?”
“...yes?”
“Then I think it’s safe to say you’re not entirely straight.”
“But I’ve never wanted a guy before! It’s only ever been him and-”
“And that’s how I felt with Eddie,” Steve softly interrupted. He felt like he was trying not to spook a wild animal here, “Being gay or straight or bi or whatever doesn’t really matter when you love someone. And none of those labels changes who you are anyway. You’re still going to be you, even if you want to be with Will.”
Mike was gnawing on his lower lip, face scrunched as he processed the words. He ran a hand through his hair, finally conceding, at least a little, “Okay, let’s say I’m not entirely straight. That doesn’t mean that he’d even want me. He’s so…fun. And creative and smart and…pretty. And I’m just me.”
Steve shrugged. He didn’t want to lie to him, he didn’t technically have confirmation on Will’s feelings, and the whole thing could go south in theory. But he had some pretty good odds, “Look man, the two of you have been attached at the hip since you were in grade school. If Will thought you were just some average boring loser, he would have dropped you by now. And sure, maybe he doesn’t like you back. But if he does, don’t you think it’s worth the risk to ask?”
“But what if it ruins everything?”
“But what if it doesn’t?” Steve countered, “Look at me and Eddie. I mean shit dude, you helped plan our damn wedding. Wouldn’t you say that the risk was worth it?”
Mike paused, stopping to look around their cluttered living room. His eyes snapped to Steve’s favorite photo, the one framed and sitting on their mantle. It was of him and Eddie, clad in their wedding day gear. Steve was grinning at the camera, while Eddie had an arm wrapped around his waist, smacking a kiss to his cheek. It always managed to pull Steve out of a bad mood when he looked at it, a constant reminder of how great the life they built together was. 
Mike stared at it for a while, for an uncomfortable amount of time in Steve’s opinion, but it seemed to be helping. 
Eventually, Mike nodded to himself, standing up with a newfound sense of conviction, “You’re right. I’m gonna do it. Like…now. I’m going to do it now. Before I can talk myself out of it.”
Steve grinned, slapping his knee as he stood to follow him, “Good for you man. Go get him. You need a ride?”
He shook his head, already speed walking to the door, “No thanks, I need the time to figure out what the fuck I’ll even say.”
He lingered at the threshold of the door, stopping to glance back at Steve, “Thank you. For uh, talking to me. You were the only one who I thought would…y’know. Get it.”
“No problem dude, just let me know how it goes,” Steve reassured, feeling more than a bit proud of himself, “And hey um, if things go south you can come back here tonight okay?”
Mike nodded, still hesitating to actually leave. The next thing Steve knew he was being wrapped up in gangly limbs, in probably the most awkward but endearing hug in his life. Then he was stepping back as quickly as he’d come, nearly running down the stairs of the apartment building, leaving a proud and taken aback Steve in his wake.
Steve didn’t find out what happened until later that night, because calls at three a.m. were just a thing that his family refused to not participate in. It took a minute for him to wiggle out of Eddie’s deathgrip to actually get up to answer it, but when he did he was met with an excited Mike on the other end. 
He didn’t even say hello, “It worked! We’re like boyfriends now. Just like that! The whole thing was so stupid, we were both pining for nothing. Can you believe that?”
Steve smiled, a little nostalgic at the memory of him and Eddie being just as stupid. He swallowed down a yawn, hoping his exhaustion wasn’t canceling out his sincere relief, “I’m happy for you dude. You guys are going to be cute together. Annoyingly cute.”
“Shut up, like you can talk,” Mike laughed on the other end. He cleared his throat, voice coming out a little more serious, “Can I uh, talk to you again about his kind of stuff? Because I’ll probably need more advice now than if he’d shot me down.”
Was this what being a proud father felt like?
“Yeah dude. Come over anytime,”Steve swallowed, feeling stupidly choked up all of a sudden. Jesus, is this what it felt like to be a proud dad? 
“Thanks Steve. I’ll talk to you later.”
“See you around.”
Steve crawled back into bed feeling a bit lighter. He lifted up Eddie’s arms to slide back under it, cuddling into his chest, heart full. If the two of them were able to make it for nearly a decade, why couldn’t Mike and Will? Steve fell asleep with a smile on his face, thoughts full of how much he loved his little found family. 
A snippet from this fic
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evilkitten3 · 5 months
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i have a hc that hinata is the one who introduced karui and chouji, and somehow that blossomed into a mini au in my head where neji lives and ends up crushing on atsui. he's horrified by this
neji: no lady hinata you don't understand it's terrible-
hinata: crushing on a loud blond man. how could i possibly relate
neji: he's from kumo
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just-an-enby-lemon · 2 years
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*After kidnnaping Robin*
Riddler: Riddle me this...
Robin: No
Riddler: What?
Robin: I won't be riddling you this.
Riddler: You can't just do that!!
Robin: Of course I can, I just did.
Riddler: But that isn't how it works.
Robin: You can tell the riddle, I'm just under no obligation of interacting with it.
Riddler: So what you're saying it's that you give up?
Robin: Eh. I guess.
Riddler: Oh, so the boy wonder realized he is uncapable of solving my dazzling puzzles. What a joy.
Robin: I didn't say that.
Riddler: Of course you did. You just admited you can't solve my riddles!!
Robin: That doesn't make any sense. How could I say I'm not able to solve your riddle if you didn't told it to me?
Riddler: But you said-
Robin: I said I wouldn't answer it, not that I couldn't.
Riddler: And what other reason for you to not answer it then the knowledge that you are intelectually inferior and therefor unable to answer any riddle I ever show you?
Robin: That I don't want to? Look, man, I'm twelve, soon I'll be a full teen. I'm too old for riddles.
Riddler: One does not get too old for riddles.
Robin: You would say that.
Riddler: What are you implying?
Robin: Nothing. Is just that riddles are for kids and old people, you are one of this things.
Riddler: Are you calling me old?
Robin: Pretty much.
Riddler: I'm not old! You are just a baby.
Robin: I'm not a baby! I just told you I'm twelve. But then old people do have a bad memory.
Riddler: I'm NOT old. Also I have a perfect memory. I literaly never forgot annything on my life!!
Robin: And you still called me a baby? Do you know what a baby is?
Riddler: I'm gonna have soo much joy killing you.
Robin: Now you're just deflecting.
Riddler: OF COURSE I KNOW WHAT A BABY IS, YOUR UNSUFERABLE BRAT!!!
Robin: Okay, okay, sorry, old man.
Riddler: I'M TWENTY-FOUR. I'M NOT OLD!!
Robin: You are twenty-four and you still do riddles? That's sad.
Riddler: I hate you. I hate you. I hate you soo much.
Robin: I don't think you do, I think you hate yourself and you are just projecting.
Riddler: *taking calming breaths* This is stupid and untrue, stupid and untrue, untrue and stupid. *pauses, another calming breath* I'm impressed you know the word projecting at all.
Robin: Thanks. I like words and unwords.
Riddler: What the fuck is a unword?
Robin: A word that is not a word, y'know? Like whelmed or aster.
Riddler: *actually interested* Oh, so words that should exist by context clues but don't! That's fascinating actually.
Robin: *exited* Really? All my friends think is weird.
Riddler: Your friends are stupid. I think language to be a fascinating subject.
Robin: It makes sense you would, wordplay is fundamental to riddles afterall.
Riddler: Precisely. So what do you know about the formation of words?
*Batman arives to save Robin, passes to a deathmaze with weirdly no Riddler live narration only to find Dick unbounded siting in a game chair with a HappyMeal with Nygma sitting weirdly on the tabble energy drink on his hands discussing unwords. They do not aknowledge him for at least ten minutes. He is very confused.*
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mythicandco · 1 year
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thinking abt the blorbos but they aren’t even rotating. they’re just sitting there and it’s very intense
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maditheimmortal · 6 months
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You shouldn't be out this late, but an odd light within the woods beckons you here. Upon arrival you find nothing more but an old cottage. Odd, you never remember seeing anything here before. It wouldn't hurt to knock, right?
Small Halloween thing for y'all , nothing too spooky and it's more autumn themed than halloween themed but it's seasonal enough i feel. Happy Halloween everyone!
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dendrochronologies · 6 months
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STILL need to date a girl so smart it scares me, despite meeting a woman so incredibly smart (but married </3) that it did, in fact, scare me half to death and my heart has barely recovered since
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todayisafridaynight · 9 months
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SORRY I MEANT TO FOLLOW UP EARLIER but I got caught up in talking about The One And Only Thing I've ever added to Jo's backstory and gotten invested in so I lost track of time 😭BUT NO YEAH GOING THROUGH THE LIST WAS A 10/10 EXPERIENCE... I just really enjoy your commentary and seeing your takeaways so I don't need anything In-Depth to have a good time, even just finding out what your faves are is pretty neat; as a guide I definitely think it sells the works while setting realistic expectations overall :] On That Note would love to hear your thoughts on the movie!
LMAO YOU'RE GOOD i wasn't expecting a follow up anyhow so it's alright :]
and im glad the list was enjoyable. i suppose LMAO AGAIN i tried not to go too much into things so my thoughts are relatively sparse (because rest assured i have PLENTY of notes on everything i've seen but i didn't want the thing to be 100 pages long (╯▽╰ ) ) but as long as it gets the job done then that's fine with me:)
OH BUTTHE MOVIE YAYAYA I WATCHED THE CORRECT ONE THIS TIME LMAOOO IT WAS EPIC definitely enjoyed it A LOT and was a really great way to end the series !! again i love the sound design and track and i esp loved the music that played when the team was working out how to sneak into the house of representatives (i've noticed that bitches LOVE acoustic guitars in this series and While Unexpected it works SOOOO good)
the whole Handcuff Bit with inoue still gets me like My Brother In Christ How Long Have You Worked Here BUT I ALSO GET IT. AND ALSO WHEN HE WENT TO ARREST OGATA AND OF COURSE DIDN'T HAVE ANY CUFFS... GIRL I DIED FR...
anyway 11/10 movie SOOO glad you directed me to it LMAO
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stinkrascal · 1 year
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also the post i reblogged earlier that was like “sexualizing that old man is a full time job and brother ive never called in sick” is so funny to me bc i specifically reblogged that post with vlad in mind as it is that this entire blog is dedicated to my indulgent vladislaus straud x self-insert oc fanfiction and he is my sweet pathetic old fart of a man that i love and cherish so dearly, but also in my universe hes not even old, hes literally 31. hes like the average age of a reddit moderator
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yenvengerberg · 8 months
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aren't you almost 30? it is weird when people over 30 watch shows aimed at teens and 20-somethings. but you even said you stopped watching it, so it's fine :).
ohmygod please don't be one of those people who thinks when you're thirty you're suddenly 'old' and can't enjoy things that give you nostalgia because 'they're for teens!'. guess what, a switch doesn't flip when you hit a certain number that means you stop enjoying things you did before. this attitude will only make yourself miserable
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chuluoyi · 4 months
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࿐ ࿔ rivals... in love? — extended cut !
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this is pure hysterics, i'm sorry but i can't resist! tysm for the brainrot amy!! @seonghrtz 🫶🏻 mwah mwah !!
a part of gojo's love entries
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“you see… if you kiss me, i'll definitely show you just how great my lips actually are.”
you’d expect this sort of nonsense from gojo satoru, yet it was geto suguru who was standing in front of you with such genial smile that you were at a loss.
you dumbly blinked. “huh?”
“satoru said i taste like a cursed spirit, yeah?” suguru didn't seem offended, at least from how he was wording it and that eye smile. “that's a really foul accusation. i’m here to clarify—”
you widened your eyes, almost cringing. “no, no! you don’t have to—”
“SUGURU! YOU SWINE!”
a resounding bang. you whipped your head towards the door in total panic, which was... fortunately still tightly shut. satoru, who had openly declared that he was into you in the previous chapter, was hurling profanities towards his best friend, pounding against the door, visibly vexed.
“you… locked the door?” you questioned suguru in disbelief, and he merely shrugged.
“for safety purposes, yeah.”
well, if you look at satoru now... he did look like a super angry cat who was ready to pounce on suguru and claw him to shreds.
“he could've blasted it.” you glanced apprehensively toward the door, catching his eyes, and in an instant, satoru's scowl turned into the most hopeful expression of a wagging puppy—hoping for you to saunter towards him instead and desert his friend altogether.
suguru chuckled. “he can, yes, but he'll be facing yaga afterwards.”
and you. there was no way he'd scare you off by blasting a ‘red’ on a doorframe. you were clueless, but suguru knew just how soft satoru could make himself to be if it was for you.
you sighed. all you wanted was to go back to your dorms following an exhausting mission. you truly had little energy to entertain this.
meanwhile, outside, satoru was this close to kick the door off its hinges. he was having about thirty different heart attacks by witnessing how close suguru was to your vicinity. his chance was quite literally slipping by each second.
and when in his attempt to hear what the two of you were saying—
“let us just kiss then, to see what it’s like—”
“geto-san, what the—!”
and in that moment, he really saw green and really used a bit more force, tearing the knob— bang!
“don't you dare to get close to my girl, you slimy bangs!”
kapow! pow!
what was even happening? one second, suguru was almost leaning in for that kiss, and the next, satoru popped out of nowhere, tackling him to the ground. and you stood there, utterly bewildered, caught between the whirlwind of their catfight.
your first crush, whom you thought was sensible, and the most obnoxious boy who was whipped for you like a fool...
losers, you absentmindedly thought to yourself. both of them. losers…
“satoru, you're incorrigible!”
“the audacity! you know very well i like her and yet—!”
and yet, a small smile tugged at your lips when you saw how red-faced satoru was. he was genuinely upset to see you with suguru, and that sparked a sense of achievement within you.
“let's see if you will be able to make him say it...”
while you pondered, almost giddy, you were undoubtedly sure about two things at that moment: one, maybe gojo satoru wasn't that bad, he was kinda cute even, and you might consider him... and two—
shoko lost the bet, and you won.
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katsukikitten · 3 months
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War General Bakugou who wants a wife but scares all the women off with his scars, the battle stories they've heard about him and his demeanor alone is forced to go to a match maker per his mother's nagging.
Yes at one point Bakugou was ready to settle down and have children, that was in his late twenties and now in his mid thirties he has ZERO desire court a woman in any sense. He does not want to learn her favorite flower so he can ensure a vase of them stays fresh on the foyer table and in the kitchen for her. He does not want to know her favorite food so he can get up early and prepare it nor does he care to find out her favorite instrument that he'd play or hell even learn to play quickly just to see her sigh and smile at him as he plays. And he definitely doesn't want to hear her laugh and how it'll tangle up in his chest like any burning liquor that he wants to chase with more and more of the sound.
He absolutely does not give a fuck.
He shouldn't, especially not with you, eyes and tongue as sharp as any blade he's wielded in his youth. Young early twenties at best and long beautiful hair that sweeps over your black and pink kimono despite the hot summer demanding vibrant colors.
He shouldn't like how you refuse to pour his tea, how you dump it out when he pours yours to signal you are done with the conversation. Shouldn't like that when he leans closer to you, you only move so that he does not invade your space. Holding his gaze with a glare he hasn't seen from another since the battlefield and even then his stature was enough to intimidate any man.
Still you look at him, eyes only flicking to his milky one once before you hold stead fast to the glittering garnet of his clear eye.
"Must you come on to women so strongly? Is this the only way you can get close to them."
He chuckles snaking his arm around you as he pulls you closer, chest to chest. His almost bare from how loose he wears his own kimono, pressing his lips to your ear and you can feel the smirk on his mouth.
"You're just the only woman I want to be close to, sweetheart. What's wrong? Do I scare you?"
It's bait, you both know it's bait, and yet here you are biting down on that hook much harder than you should.
Shoving the hulking man away from you so now this time you're hovering over him, top lip painted in matte black as your bottom lip stays glossy in its natural soft hue.
"It will take much more than that to scare me, Bakugou the Slayer."
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arminsumi · 7 months
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i need more needy megumi who js wants kisses :( i just read the halloween costume fic and i need moreee
pretty boy megumi just needs you to kiss him more
💗めぐみ
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note : needy cutie pie gumi hot off the press 😘 i think if anyone would be needy and obsessed with kissing, it's mr pretty boy over here
content : fluff, kissing, bf megumi, fem reader
playme : kiss me more (of course lol)
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"kiss me more..."
it's not a command, but a shy plea. he tugs at the hem of your shirt. he only looks this soft for you.
megumi has spells where he's insatiable and wants to kiss you over and over and over and— overrrrrr. until his lips plump up and tingle, until he's almost gasping and out of breath. until he's dazed. he's just... so in love with you. have mercy. he's never enjoyed kissing anyone before you.
your phone floods with messages from your best friend. megumi groans when you break from the make out session, he was putting his whole back into it, pouring his whole heart into it.
📨 nobara : where r u ??
📨 you : gumi's
📨 nobara : not emo boy again. didn't u two have an argument
📨 you : uh yeah... about which pizza is best lol.
📨 nobara : shopping. now.
📨 you : isn't yuji ur dedicated carry horse...
📨 nobara : yes but he's busy and also i miss uuuu 😘
megumi groans, "is it nobara?"
"yes, it's nobara. i'm gonna meet up with her."
he frowns. "but..." he pays glance to your lips. he doesn't wanna seem needy, or anything. gosh no, that would be humiliating. but the way your lips look so inviting, like a door opening to his home, he can't help it and —
"kiss me a bit more before you go..." he asks quietly. but truthfully, he wants more than that. he wants you to ruffle his hair. cup his cheeks. make him dizzy. drain his lungs. with a thousand kisses that turn into two thousand. he's a bit greedy.
you kiss him lightly, "you're so sweet... gumi."
"shut up... and kiss me harder. what are these baby kisses?"
you giggle, "so mean!"
he pulls you in, and kisses you. and the poor boy, he follows you to the door on your way out with kisses, too; he just doesn't want to let you go.
"okay, one more kiss."
"yes, just one more."
"seriously, only one more, gumi."
"yes yes, just one more..." he's itching to kiss you, you can feel his whole body buzz with desire.
he kisses you so hard he pins you to the door and it clasps shut with a click. you feel his weight press into your body, pinning you tighter.
and he cups your cheeks, thumbs back and forth on the crown of them. no kiss engulfs you quite like megumi's. he kisses you so deeply you feel it in your soul.
"megumi... this is more than one kiss."
he whines and curls his lips into a frowny grimace. "can't you just spare me... fifteen more minutes...?" he breathes heavily.
you laugh, "fifteen? nobara's been waiting for thirty minutes at the station..."
"yeah... sorry... but..." he licks his lips, then brushes them against yours. he gives you that deep look that shows off the dark beauty in his eyes. "...i just really need your lips today."
"feeling a bit crazed huh?" he feels your smirk against his lips and it makes his heart leap around in his chest like a frog.
"...yeah...a bit..." and he melts into another buttery kiss, feeling his stomach fill with butterflies.
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© arminsumi
Do not plagiarize / repost / translate / copy layouts / etc.
Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.
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quimichi · 1 month
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NSFW - MDI
He's obsessed with your voice. He loves the way you whimper and just struggle your words out. He loves to to tease, he LIVES to tease you. He's so mean whe he asks what you want, just so he can deny it and command you to beg for it.
He's buried deep inside of you, barely able to hold himself up, panting heavily. He looks down at the pretty face you're making and he can't help but think that the only thing that would make it better is the sound of your beautiful voice.
"Tell me what you want, baby" he breathes in your ear, dropping his head down to your neck. He stopped moving. His hot breath hitting your heated skin. "I asked you somethin'~" he hums leaning back down to press kiss over your shoulder. You can practically feel his smirk in his voice.
"Please-" is all you're able to stutter out at first and it makes him grin onto your skin as he lifts his head to shake it at you. "Naw, I couldn't quite hear you princess,.. you should use bigger words for your needs?" there's this pout on his face, he's mocking you. Out of desperation you kiss him, in hopes that he could possibly forget about your loss of words.
He indulges you for a few seconds before pulling away and raising his eyebrow at you. That's when you realise he's serious; he really won't move an inch until you tell him exactly what you want. "Please-, just.. fuck me" you whine, you know it won't be enough for him but you hope it is because if he doesn't move in the next thirty seconds you feel you might combust. You honestly don't know what will combust, but something is definitely blowing up and its also gonna be you.
"Good start, baby, but it's not enough" he chuckles at your responding whine and buries his head into you neck chuckling. Although this is more than entertaining, he also has to hide the fact this is just as agonizing for him like it is for you. "How do you want it, hm? Tell me how you want me to fuck you." "Please, just fuck me. Fuck me hard. Fuck me dumb. Fuck me so hard you break me, the bed or the wall. I don't care just please fuck me" you desperately shout out in embarrassment.
He lets out an elated laugh, this is exactly what he wants to hear. He leans in to kiss you and ends up muffling the happy whine you let out when he finally starts moving. But quickly you feel dizzy, you're beyond coherent words at this point. You can't even think straight. He feels so good inside you that you almost go crazy. You instinctively grab at his skin, raking your nails over his shoulder blades. He loves being able to get you like this, he loves listen to you break like this. You and the pretty noises you make are all his to enjoy....
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Kageyama, Tsukishima, Matsukawa, Kuroo, Atsumu, Suna, Tendou, Terushima (haikyuu)
Kaeya, Al-Haitham, Ayato, Itto, Scaramouche, Wriothesley, Dottore, Pantalone (genshin)
Geto, Nanami, Gojo, Toji (JJK)
Hisoka, Chrollo, Feitan, Phinks (HxH)
Rafayel (love and deepspace)
Leona, Lilia, Jade, Floyd, Ace, Trey (twst wonderland)
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osaemu · 7 months
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GOJO SATORU: ❛❛ ONE MORE CHANCE? (IT WON'T BE THE LAST) ❜❜
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.ೃ࿐ you hate your ex, but nobody else can fuck you half as well — so maybe you'll give him one more chance.
contents: fem!reader. implied unprotected sex, dirty talk (?), lil' bit of praise, lil' bit of degradation, oral (fem. receiving), couch sex, gojo covers your mouth at one point, cursing, lil' bit of teasing/mocking (?). sorta toxic but whatevs we love a toxic king! 2000+ words.
author's note: got lazy in the middle of writing this loll
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"he's just so fucking annoying," you groan, swirling the drink in your hand. the ice clinks against the side of the glass as you lift the cup to your lips, sipping the whiskey and wincing at the way it burns the back of your throat. you lean back in the plush couch in your friend's living room and sigh. "i don't know why i ever dated him."
your friend nods in agreement, eyes fixed on her phone for another second before she turns it towards you. "look what he posted on his instagram."
on your friend's screen is an instagram story, and the tag shows that it's from your ex-boyfriend — satoru gojo. tired of his insensitivity and annoying nature, you had dumped him two weeks ago, and god, you'd never had such a petty ex in your life.
after you broke up with him, he blocked you from all his socials and got all his friends to do the same. so, since he practically knew everyone, you lost a hundred followers.
and apparently, he's out fucking some other girl right now.
the story on your friend's phone is a picture of a smirking satoru with his arm wrapped around some girl with a red plastic cup in her hand. they're bathed in overhead red lights, and you can barely make out a familiar dark-haired boy in the back — another one of satoru's fuckboy friends.
"he's such a manwhore," your friend says with an eyeroll. "d'you want to stay the night?"
you shake your head, setting down the now-empty glass on a coaster. "it's alright, i wouldn't want to intrude," you say with a rueful smile.
your friend eyes you suspiciously for another second before leaning back in her own seat and closing her eyes. "stay safe, it's pretty late."
you nod and toss your things into your bag before stepping out the door, closing it gently behind you. as you get in your car and drive back to your house, thoughts of satoru fill your head. 
you don't recognize the girl under satoru's arm, but she's pretty — too pretty for him. sure, satoru was conventionally attractive, with his ocean-blue eyes and flawless physique, but still. 
satoru was a shitty boyfriend, and now he's an even shittier ex. when you two dated, his spoiled brattiness and constant sorry, i forgot's drove you insane. he couldn't even remember your birthday. it was a miracle that you tolerated him for that long — until your one-year anniversary, which obviously slipped his mind.
"you're so insensitive," you groan, dragging a hand down your face. satoru suppresses a sigh, blue eyes looking everywhere but at you. "and— satoru, are you even listening to me?"
you're quiet for three seconds before he responds, and naturally, it was with a "huh? yeah, what is it?"
every time. every single time.
"it's over," you mutter, shaking your head frustratedly. "we're over, satoru."
"fine," he responds after a moment. "i never really liked you anyways."
"fuck you."
if you didn't give a fuck about that white-haired bastard anymore, why did the memory of your breakup still sting?
you try to tell yourself that it doesn't matter. maybe it was for the best — he was out with some pretty girl, so why couldn't you go out and sleep with some hot guy? 
you make up your mind right as you step into your house, and thirty minutes later, you're in a tight dress and four-inch heels. and it's almost funny how easy it is to doll up when you don't have a horny boyfriend trying to fuck you every two seconds.
right before you step out the door, you eye yourself in the mirror and can't help but admire the way your dress hugs your waist, accentuating your curves. that smug manwhore didn't know what he was missing out on — so why not show him?
you pull out your phone and take a picture of yourself, snapping a couple before deciding on one and posting it on your story. you knew he'd see it — you intentionally let his burner stay unblocked, and coincidentally, he didn't block you either. 
just as you push open your door, you realize that your phone's on death's door — just over five percent remaining. so you plug it into your charger, kicking your feet impatiently as you wait for it to charge to a reasonable amount.
some part of you wants to chicken out, to stay home and spend the night watching a classic romcom. but the other part of you, the part that can't ignore the fact that you haven't had sex in two weeks, urges you to go out and get laid.
so twenty minutes later, when your phone finally hits forty percent, you practically throw open the door and rush out and find yourself face-to-face with the guy who's somewhere between belly conklin and andy bernard on your most-disliked list. satoru gojo.
"what the fuck are you doing here?" you snap, wrapping your arms around yourself as the cold night air touches your bare skin. satoru eyes you up and down, and suddenly, you're very aware of just how exposed you are. "satoru, answer the damn question."
"where are you going?" he asks, eyes narrowing when they settle on your dress's deep neckline. 
"none of your business," you reply shortly, biting the inside of your cheek. unfortunately, satoru looks good. just like in his instagram story, he has one button undone in his collar, and his hair is rumpled and perfect all at the same time. "answer the fuckin' question."
"saw your story," satoru replies, slipping his hands into his pocket. "you going out on a date or something?"
the question catches you off guard, and your irritated expression drops for a moment. strangely enough, satoru doesn't have his usual smug expression on his face — he looks conflicted. he never looks conflicted.
"doesn't matter," you respond, walking around him and relishing the way your heels clack on the concrete ground. without turning around, you ask, "so, what about my story made you come over?"
you're not sure why you're baiting him. maybe it's the slight chance that he would beg to get you back, maybe it's the tightness in your chest and pussy, or maybe you just want the satisfaction of seeing satoru squirm.
whatever it is, it lets satoru take you by the wrist and drag you back inside. you suppose that if you can get dick at home, then there's no point in going all the way to the club. and it's not like you're gonna get back together over one night — this would be purely physical. he wanted you, and you wouldn't mind him.
"fuck, right there, sweetheart," satoru groans, pushing your legs impossibly farther apart as his tongue laps at your pussy. the two of you barely made it to the couch in your living room before satoru pushed you down, a mischievous smile on his lips. one thing turned to another, and soon enough he was on his knees in front of you and eatung you out like a starving man.
"you're such a loser," you mutter, threading your fingers through his hair as his tongue makes you see stars. he really was — who shows up to their ex's place after getting dumped? a laugh bubbles out of satoru's lips while his mouth is still on your pussy and it makes you shiver. satoru looks up at you, an amused gleam in his eyes.
"s' that so?" satoru mumbles, pressing his lips to your inner thigh with a smirk. "then why'd you let me in, huh?"
"why would i go out when i can just get fucked at home?" you say dryly, a smile growing on your lips. "since you made the effort of coming all the way here."
"my pleasure," satoru scoffs sarcastically, getting up and joining you on the couch as he tugs you into his lap. "so i'm the pathetic loser here, yeah?"
you nod, letting satoru unzip the back of your dress with one hand. he laughs and shakes his head. "you're the one who let me in, baby."
"yeah, well, you showed up."
"you coulda slammed the door in my face."
"maybe i should've," you mutter, not liking the way he's grinning at you. "you gonna fuck me or what?"
"aw, you're desperate. how cute," he replies without missing a beat. it's been a while since you got to banter with satoru like this, and some part of you misses it. sure, he's disgustingly cocky, but at least he has the dick to back it up. and it's fun, too — you like the chase, and clearly, he does too.
"not really," you say with a shrug. that's a lie — the only reason you let him in was to get fucked, and contrary to the excuses falling from your mouth, you were getting impatient. not that he needed to know that.
"fine. have it your way, brat." satoru smiles cheekily and bounces his leg up and down, making you grit your teeth as you struggle to focus.
you make a face at satoru, crossing your arms. "what are you—"
"waiting."
"for what?"
"for you to beg."
your mouth falls open, and you glare at satoru, hating the way he's smugly grinning at you. this isn't the first time he's asked you to beg for him to fuck you — back when the two of you were dating, he had no problem edging you the whole night and practically making you cry for him.
"not this again," you groan, letting out a drawn-out sigh. "just fuck me already, satoru. or i'll go get someone else to."
satoru clicks his tongue, smiling lazily. "we both know you won't do that."
again, he's right, and god, you hate him for it. "just shut up and fuck me."
"alright, since you asked so nicely," satoru drawls, running his tongue over his teeth. he studies you intently, white hair falling into his eyes. before you can ask what he's looking at, he has you pinned against the couch cushions, face down and ass up. 
"good girl, stayin' nice and quiet for me," satoru groans, hand clasped over your mouth as he pounds into you from behind. "you always talked too much. never knew when to shut that damn mouth."
you moan against his hand, unable to think about anything else but satoru and his dick. that's the only reason the two of you stayed together for as long as you did — because the sex was irreplaceable. and after two weeks without getting fucked, you seriously consider throwing all pride out the window and begging for him back.
"shit, you're so fuckin' tight," satoru says with a rough laugh. "have you really not fucked with anyone else since you dumped me?" 
you shake your head, eyes pressed shut as satoru continues sloppily thrusting into you. there's a coil in your chest that's threatening to burst, and the whines slipping out of your lips increase in both pitch and volume.
at this point, you can hardly remember why you broke up with satoru — or maybe, he's just not giving you a chance to remember. his pace is relentless and mind-numbing, and shit, maybe it's for the best.
when he finally lets you cum, it's the best feeling you've had in what feels like forever. the edges of your vision go white, and satoru removes his hand from your mouth, letting out the lewd, muffled sounds that you've been suppressing all this time. not long after, satoru cums too, and it's sloppy, messy, and all over you. 
satoru collapses on top of your back, hot breaths slipping out of his mouth and brushing against your cheek. "took me so good, baby," he groans, pressing his lips to your neck and laughing breathily. "we should do this again sometime."
you shouldn't like this. you should be shoving him out your door, but his mischievous smile is irresistible. and even though you know this time probably won't end any different than the rest, you decide to give satoru one more chance.
"yeah, same time tomorrow?"
"anythin' for you."
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agnesafterhours · 8 months
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trophy | lee know. smut.
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As team captain, your boyfriend has his priorities straight. Minho doesn't take neither his training nor role lightly, and, sometimes, you like to tap into this inflexible side of his. (3.7k words)
CONTENT: smut, dom!minho but he's more persuasive than physically controlling, brat!reader, oral (female receiving), fingering (female receiving), unprotected sex, creampie, squirting, slight degradation kink. minors and empty blogs do not interact.
© all rights reserved. i do not allow reposting and/or translations of my work.
You shouldn't get under Minho's skin when he's training, you know that. The hurried whispers of his teammates leaving the field after matches told you this much. But still, it feels a bit unfair of him to make you sit here, after a whole game, having to watch as he leads his team through a “just, like, thirty minutes?” practice. Although annoyed, you understand why he's so hung up on practicing as much as possible—winning this game meant going to the finals, after all. You knew how much this meant to Minho, so you tried your best to be patient whilst sitting on the bleachers.  
Even though you're in a bit of a hurry to get him home, watching Minho play earlier makes it hard to deny that the field is his element, leading the team is his calling. You were completely stunned as you watched your boyfriend play—this being the first game of his you saw which you were actually rooting for his team. It was a bit of a rascal when the team captain introduced the cheerleader of their rivalling team as his girlfriend, but his mates eventually got over it. 
Your relationship with Minho was fun. You were together for a couple months and the freshness and excitement of it all never failed to make your skin tingle each time he looked at you in a certain way. Like the look he's giving you right now—chin up, eyes down, head slightly tilted.  
“I told you to wait.” His uniform's shoulder pads make him look even more intimidating, the bright spotlights behind him turning the white material almost blinding—his shadow casting on you. 
“I have been waiting! It's been like an hour, Min! And you said you'd take thirty minutes…” You hope a slight pout would help your case and soften his heart, but he simply turns his focus to the field for a moment, before looking back at you. Minho takes a few steps closer.  
“What’re you so eager to go home for?” He asks, voice a bit quieter. There's no need to speak this lowly when he's so close, especially when his teammates are so far away and everyone else has gone home by now—but you'll take advantage of whatever you can get from him. Even if it's just the feeling of his eyes on you. 
You look away, arms crossing under your chest as he smirks.  
“What? Cat got your tongue so early on, baby? Speak up.” 
“I'll tell you when we get in the car.” 
His eyebrows furrow. “I don't wanna wait ‘til we get in the car.” 
“Well, then maybe you should hurry.” You turn around, eyes lingering on him for a moment before you make your way to the parking lot. 
Your nerves make you jump a little when you hear Minho shout to his team they're wrapping up the practice—the parking lot getting darker and darker with the distance you put between yourself and the field's spotlights, a cool breeze awakening shivers up your arms as the night hugged you tighter and tighter. You (and the butterflies on your stomach) wouldn't settle until you felt Minho's presence. But you don't wait for him to catch up to you. You don't look back. 
The few minutes you sit in the car feel like hours, your phone's screen lighting up with a notification from your boyfriend finally seizing the constant checkups of your hair and gloss. 
min🖤: locker room  
You: why  im waiting for u  in the car 
min🖤: locker room:)  im waiting  
You: ive been waiting for longer  what if i just dont go 
You slam the car door shut, making a bee line to his location. 
min🖤: if you dont come you wont get what you want when we get home 
You: whatever 
The building's back door shuts loudly behind you.  
min🖤:  if you dont come ur gonna have made me end practice for nothing  
You: idc  ur already mad anyway  
You reach the locker room and as soon as your hand turns the door handle, you feel two hands on your hips pressing your back to the cold metal. 
Minho's tongue is in your mouth before you can even notice he kissed you, the cold air seeping through the open windows contrasting his warm palms on your skin. You're covered in shivers as he controls the kiss—one palm running up your chest to your neck until he reaches the back of your head, tilting it as he pleases.  
“Not mad enough to use numbing cream on you.” The bottle sits menacingly on the wooden bench. He spreads your legs with his thigh, pressing against your core. “So don't push me.” 
You're completely helpless, hands grabbing fistfuls of his uniform as he lightly pulls the hair on your nape every now and again—his mouth latching desperately onto yours. The room is dark, the campus so empty it almost feels like you're in a different dimension, completely by yourselves. Air fills your lungs for the first time in a while—you didn't realize you were that breathless until gasps fill the room as he kisses your neck. 
“I didn't even do anything.” He leaves a harsh bite at your words, sucking on the bruise a moment after. “Ah- I just wanted to congratulate you for winning-” 
“If you wanted to congratulate me”, his voice drips with sarcasm, “you would've sat there and wait for me to finish practice.” Minho hastily pulls the front of your tank top above your chest, not bothering to fully strip you out of it before his hand reaches under your bra, massaging your breast. “You would've been patient until I had the time to bring my pretty little trophy home, hm?” 
Air hitches in your throat when he rips your bra open, the cloth falling to the floor. You struggle through heavy breathing to talk back as he licks his thumb and brings it to your nipple. “I'm not just some trophy.” 
“You're not? What are you, then?” His lips leave your neck so he can look you in the eye, finally allowing to rest for a bit. You don't like the distance. 
You lean your head forward, chasing his smirking lips as he pushes you back against the lockers—the shuffling metal sounds strident in the dead quiet. Minho tilts his head back a bit, rejecting your kiss. “You didn't answer me.” 
“Because I wanna fucking kiss you!” You whine through gritted teeth, leaning towards him one more time. 
The grip he has on your hair stops you once again, but this time, he gets so close his lips touch yours when he whispers. “Tell me what you are, baby. ‘Cause sometimes you act like you're just a desperate little hole for me to fill." 
Minho's dilated pupils stare right into your soul. Your eyes shake but you don't look away. “I'm your fucking girlfriend. It's not my fault you're not good enough of a fuck that I'm never satisfied.” 
You regret the words as soon as they leave your mouth.  
You see, Minho wasn't the type to growl his demands and manhandle you into whatever position he wants—he always tries reasoning with you. He lets you know what it is he would like to do, and if you don't comply, he'd show you why that was the best option for you in the first place. Minho gets off on proving he knows better, showing how he knows what's best for you. 
He takes a small step back, a click of his tongue letting you know his disappointment. “So I don't fuck you right? Okay.”  
“I just- I didn't mean-” 
“No, you're right, you're right. That's why I never make you come, right?” His sarcastic voice coming out a little bit breathless as he shoves your shorts and underwear down your legs, eyes fix on yours. You kick the clothes to the side with trembling legs, bambi eyes looking up at him. 
You didn't exactly know what the outcome of your stubbornness would be, but you did not expect Minho's knees to buckle—his gaze dead set on yours as he reached the ground.  
Suddenly, your boyfriend grabs your hand and latches it to the hair on the back of his head.  
“Why don't you fucking teach me then?” He speaks through gritted teeth, throwing your right leg over his shoulder pad—the unusual angle giving him all the access he needed and leaving you much more exposed.  
Unhappy with how limp your hand stayed in his hair, Minho grabs it once more, pushing himself against your core. 
“Come on, baby.” He mumbles, leaving wet kisses over your outer labia. When he looks up, resting his chin on the skin under your bellybutton, the dim light coming from the window makes his profile glow blue—pearly white grin hypnotizing you. Minho looked like an incubus—eager to suck the life out of you. “Where's your attitude, hmm? Show me what you like.” 
You can see your bare chest heaving with each breath as you look down at him. “Fin... Fingers?” 
He tilts his head to the side, big eyes full of mischief. “Fingers? You're asking?” 
“I… I don't-” 
“You don't know? Of course you do. You're just not thinking straight. Maybe it's stress, right? ‘Cause I'm not good enough?” Without a warning, the tip of his tongue lightly zigzags up and down your pussy. Up, and down again—avoiding your clit each time.  
“You see,” he says, letting his saliva mix with your arousal, “if I use my fingers now, you'll come too fast.” Minho leaves a long peck on your core. “I know that's what you want, but what about dragging it out a little bit? I think you'd like it better.” He flattens his tongue and your body squirms as he licks up. “But I mean, I wouldn't know.” 
Minho's being painfully annoying, but you deserve it. He takes his time dragging his tongue through your core, lapping your arousal and smearing it on your cunt—making your legs shake every now and again. His right hand keeps your squirming hips still as the left one slowly caresses it's way up your body, until he reaches your chest.  
He's looking up at you the entire time, watching every single twitch and reaction to the flow of his tongue on you. When he finally latches onto your clit, you swear you lose your mind a little. Your hips stutter and he follows you promptly, big brown eyes burning through you. The sight of Minho on his knees being illuminated by the moonlight is so ethereal it's almost haunting, and at that moment, you know you'll never really forget this view—you'll never forget how he's making you feel. He really is like a incubus in a way, imprinting his mark on the back of your mind forever. 
Impulsiveness takes over and you force your hips forward, the hand in the back of your boyfriend's head thrusting him against your cunt. Minho's eyes turn impossibly darker, his smirk much more noticeable than before. When he closes his eyes and his eyebrows furrow, you already know you're gone—instincts making you hold onto his locks harsher than ever. 
The soft sucking turns progressively rougher, your eyes squeeze shut as his tongue draws figure-eights on your clit very softly in contrast to how quickly his lips are working the same nerve. 
When your eyes start to water from how overwhelmed you feel, the telltale begins. As soon as your body starts shaking and your hips squirm away from his hold, you open your eyes to look at him just in time to watch as he completely removes himself off of you.  
Your heart drops, hot tears running down your shamed cheeks as you wobble a bit, trying to find balance without his hands on your hips. 
“Fuck, can you even feel anything, baby?” You feel the ghost of gentle fingertips on your labia, following up and down the slit. 
You can tell through your watery eyesight and the poor-lit room that he's now paying attention to the way his fingers play with your cunt, smirk wiped clean off his voice as he watches your arousal coat his fingers. “If I try something like this-” He gently pushes his ring and middle fingers inside you, slowly curling the tip of his fingers in come-hither motion, low voice filling up the emptiness, “does it feel good?” 
Does it feel good? You're long, long gone. Minho's voice sounds like it's coming from inside your head, the stimulation feels like it reflects in white orbits in your vision. You can no longer force yourself to open your eyes—it's for the better, anyway. You'd probably pass out if you caught a glimpse of his pretty brown eyes by now.  
Does it feel good? You don't remember how you got yourself in this situation—you don't even have the brain power to form a phrase involving anything but religious chants of his name. You've become nothing but a warm body for Minho to touch and use as he pleases, you'd be satisfied with the smallest of touch he'd be kind enough to reach for.  
His pouty lips find your clit again and suddenly, fireworks start setting off in your insides way too fast. Your stomach muscles contract in a way that's entirely new for you and you feel like you'll fall to the floor if he doesn't support all your weight. Your start to feel your throat straining, the constant whining suddenly getting higher. Your eyes are shut so tightly you can see blobs of colour behind your pitch-black eyelids. You think you're out of it for a little bit, but you can still hear his voice. 
“Yeah, I don't think I'm doing it right.” The raspiness of his tone almost puts you to sleep—his fingers are still inside you, now pumping back and forth, very slowly. You can hear the embarrassingly loud gushing sound of his fingers moving inside you, and you open your eyes to find your boyfriend's face and chest covered in your arousal. 
“I, I-” You don't know exactly what you have to say, but his loving eyes and the kiss he pressed to your thigh were not helping you find it out. 
“You ruined my fucking jersey.” His lopsided smile makes your breath hitch. 
“Need you.” 
He tilts his head again. “Do you? Really?” 
Your head is heavy as you nod, and you try your best to not lose focus. You know what he needs to hear to finally drop the act, and you know you should give in before your body gives out completely, but there's a little twisted voice inside your head asking how far you can take this—your body seems to be addicted to the thrill, moans immediately spilling out your lips when his fingers pick up pace. 
“You're not satisfied?” He asks, voice sugary sweet. His pouty lips pepper quick pecks on your inner thigh, expectant eyes looking up at you. “I’m not sure I can help you, though. I mean, if it doesn’t feel good it’ll just get painful at some point.” 
You stutter your words through a strained voice. “I’ll let you know if it does.” It takes your entire being to attempt to sound demanding. “We can keep going for now.” 
An amused countenance takes over his sharp features. “Oh, we can? Alright, ma’am. Thank you so much for letting me know.” He stands up, and the sudden shift in atmosphere rising goosebumps on your skin as he now looks down on you. 
Minho stands tall before you, the lighting no longer illuminating his doll-like eyes—shadows now cover most of his face, long hair hiding his gaze. As if he can hear your heartbeat picking up pace, he gets close to whisper against your lips, eyes hazy as he looks down at you. “I think we gotta stretch you out a bit more, hmm? If it didn't feel good, you're probably still tight.” 
Good God, you hate this man. You know what he’s trying to get out of you—you’re just not sure if you want to give him the satisfaction yet.  
So, you look up at him with the sweetest eyes you can possibly muster. “Don’t worry, bunny. You’re not that big.” 
He stares at you for a few seconds, the smile on his lips doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Bench. On your back.” 
Although it seems you’ve worn his patience thin, you stare back. The cogs in your brain working their full capacity trying to figure out a way to make his life a bit harder. A disappointed sigh leaves his lips as he walks towards his locker, looking for his stuff to leave. 
As always, his action is effective. Minho really doesn’t need much to convince you to give in, after all, you know what you’ll get when you do. 
Silence fills the room as you discard your shirt all the way and lay on the bench, legs bent at the knees, heels resting on the cool surface. Anxiety bubbles under your sensitive skin when you hear Minho taking off his clothes. You rest you weight on your elbows to watch—his jersey was gone when you got to look at him, shoulder pads following suit. 
“What made you change your mind?” He opted to leave his white tank top on as he unbuckles his belt, one knee—supported by the bench—between your legs. The moonlight now shining entirely on him.  
“Don't like the emptiness…” Your voice trails off, and you don't mind staring shamelessly as he puts on a little show for you—one hand on your knee and running down your thigh, the other stroking his cock.  
He scoffs, “You say shit like this but doesn't like it when I say you act like a hole.” He taps his tip on your clit, earning a loud whine from you. “Make up your mind, bunny.” 
Minho stays kneeled before you, the cloth of his tank top so thin you could make out the lines of his chest and abs—the muscles on his pale arms shining iridescent in the lighting. 
Your boyfriend moved his hips, slowly grinding over your slit. Your eyes roll to the back of your head without much resistance, mouth watering with each nudge of his tip to your clit. “Whatever you said about me not being too big…” He leans down to leave a quick peck on your lips. “Keep that in mind.” 
With absolutely no warning and much faster than your brain would've been able to process, Minho buries himself as deep as he possibly can inside of you. He lifts your hips off the bench with ease, sitting on his heels—his hold on you so tight you bounced back against him with each thrust of his.  
The stamina of the man above you is unfaltering. You can't do much besides watch him: his biceps flex to support the weight of your hips every time he slams you back on his cock, veins prominent on his arms. Minho's face and neck are covered in the prettiest shade of pink—his wide chest, blushed with the same colour, is struggling with each breath he takes. The moonlight highlights the droplets of sweat sliding down his neck, and he can't seem to decide whether he wants to throw his head back or look down at where your hips align. 
Keeping himself together is the hardest when Minho looks down at you. He got his pretty girl all splayed out for him; her eyebrows furrowed in utter pleasure as the whiniest sounds constantly pour out of her pouty lips. The way your body reacts to him is hypnotic—it's so fun for him, how every little thing he does makes your eyes roll back. The power trip he gets when he watches your skin shiver wherever his hands touch is better than anything he's ever experienced. All because it's you. Because he gets you to feel like this. The fact you're so drunk on Minho gets him even more addicted to the feeling of your body shaking under him. So when your hips suddenly spring back to life rolling desperately against his and Minho's name seems to be the only coherent thought your brain can formulate, his desire increases tenfold. 
You have no control over how loud your moans or the smack of Minho's hips against yours are. He lowers you back on the bench and is fully above you in the blink of an eye—holding your face as he kisses you so deeply you struggle to keep up. His thrust become less timed but continue as deep as they were. Minho throws his head back, moaning loudly, but quickly brings his gaze back to your lips. His eyebrows are furrowed, lips touching yours as he whispers. 
“Come on, baby. You know how much I love to feel you coming around me. Be good.” 
Be good, be good. Of course you want to be good. When his lips touch yours again, euphoria explodes inside of you. Your eyes being squeezed shut seem to enhance your other senses a bit—you feel every inch of Minho's cock grinding inside you, his hands burning hot where they touch, his loud moans and the wetness spattering between your legs being the only things crystal clear in your cloudy mind.  
“Holy shit, fuck. I'm close, I'm so close.” He pants, face buried in your neck.  
Your weak hands gently soothe his back, you mindlessly mumble your words, “Wanna feel you coming inside me, love. Want it so bad.” 
His strong arms wrap around your waist when he comes, cock buried deep inside of you. Minho shudders with each movement of your hands against his skin, as you now gently scratch his back under his tank top. It feels like a long time has passed until he breaks the silence. 
“We're taking the numbing cream home, by the way.” He gets his face off your neck and rests his weight on his elbows. His right hand cups your jaw, thumb playing with your drooled lips. “You're not done paying for that attitude.”
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