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ramonathinks · 5 months

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late night talking

content warning (18+) best friends -> lovers, fluffy-ish, brief angst, high schoolers (seniors; 18 y/o), soft sex, praise, light fingering, oral, guided oral sex, slight porn with plot, virginity loss.

summary: the day before graduation, satoru gojo realizes he doesn’t want to let go of his best friend.

@hoshigray 🫵🏾 now what. but anyways happy belated birthday to my satoru 😁😁. (this is probably terrible! but alas) 3.2k words

There was a rap of knocking heard, it was loud enough to hear over your headphones and it’s what made you look up, squinting. “Satoru, what are you doing here?” His face right outside of your window, his breath fogging it up as you move over to open it. He just chuckles as you help him in. “Wasn’t it hard climbing up here?”

Oh if she thinks that’s hard then, he thought, feeling his dick straining against his pants. But he rolls his eyes a bit and ignores your question. “Can’t I just come see my sweet best friend?”

“Oh, so you want something.” You snort, a small smile on your lips.

“Just needed to be alone and not in my house for a moment that’s all,” He doesn’t go into it anymore and you give a tight smile.

“But you couldn’t use the front door?” You raise a brow with a small chuckle.

“It’s almost midnight, are you crazy? Your dad would’ve killed me.”

You snicker a bit, “My mom loves you though, she would’ve fixed you a plate. Well, actually, she did make you one and told me to bring it for you, Shoko and Suguru, tomorrow.”

His stomach growled and he did an awkward cough as you gave him a smile. “I’ll be right back.”

Your hand gently rubbed at the side of his face and he tried not to lean into your touch as much. Then you headed downstairs. He flipped his jacket off and snuggled up against your soft lush pillows and held one of you many hello kitty teddy bears against his chest.

“You got this,” He muttered to himself. He was by far not a nervous person, however… There have been times since he realized his feelings that he realized something. You made him nervous, nervous as hell. You were always so touchy with him and hanging on to every word he said, smiling at him and just anything.

It was no doubt in his mind that you felt the same way. You didn’t do these things with Suguru or Shoko, it was only him who was blessed and special enough. He inhaled the strong strawberry scented perfume on your sheets and it made him relax deeper into the bed. He hears you quietly open the door and giggle a bit.

“You look comfy.” You smile at him and he tries not to look your way. “You’re all shy now?” You giggle again and he turns away from you, his body far away from your touch.

“Just when I was going to play in your hair, just how you like it.” If he was a dog, you’d see his ears plop up all excited and his tail wagging. But he controls himself. He hides his face deeper into your pillows. “C’mon, ‘Toru… tell me what’s wrong. I know you didn’t come here just to eat and sleep.”

There was a long pause before he spoke.

“When we graduate… you’ll leave me right? That’s why I had to come see you. Heard you telling Suguru you’re heading right out. I see your bags already packed away in your closet. Just wanted to spend one night with you before you’re gone.”

“Hey, even if I leave…. It’s not like we won’t be friends anymore.” You try to explain. It was weird seeing him like this, his eyes glossy but not with tears – just deep emotions as he looked into yours.

“It’s not the same. We’ll be apart and see other people and… and… we’ll be busy. Nothing will be the same.” He took a heavy sigh and turned the other way.

“Satoru, look at me.” He doesn’t move an inch. “You’ll always have me. Don’t worry. You’ll always be right here.” You intertwine your fingers with his and place it close to your chest. “Okay?”

He turned his head a bit, “You promise?”

“Of course.”

“Can I ask you something else?” His eyes are bright again and filled with something.

“Why’re you acting like this? You know you can ask me anything.”

He looks at you, stares and goes over your face almost a million times. “You like me, right? I like you too. I have for a while.”

“I… um.” Your body felt hot all over. It was true, you’d been crushing on him forever. Of course you couldn’t say anything, why would the relationship if something were to happen? Who felt like picking sides when it came to group activities? Suguru would go with him and Shoko with you but, it was more than that. You all always were with each other, why ruin it? Your mind had been thinking these dreaded thoughts for closer to a year and you were scared that this would happen; you were more so happy that he was the one who confessed first. Your nerves were never on your side. But with a few deep breaths, you were ready to indulge. “Y-yeah. How’d you know?” You looked up at him through your long lashes.

“Sweet girl,” He pokes your cheeks. “I see the way you look at me… and I just hoped you’d see the same with how I look at you.” He chuckles a bit. “Just… Why didn’t you say anything?”

A chill ran through your body. “It’s hard not to notice when the Gojo Satoru has his eyes on you… I was just too scared to say something or hoped that I was imagining it. I mean, this only happens on television… Best friends wanting each other? Who am I kidding, but that’s all I could think. Or my mind was drowning in thoughts of…plain insecurities or anything of what’s next.” Your eyes on the floor. “Now, I’m killing the mood with my rambling.” You did a dry laugh.

He licks his lips, “I think it’s cute. You get like this sometimes and that’s fine. Whether it’s over homework, your job or even now… it’s always cute to me.” He touches the end of your braids. “Can I kiss you? Don’t overthink it. Just say the first thing that comes to mind.” His eyes glanced from your eyes to your lips with every word he spoke.

“Yes, please.” You weren’t his first kiss. But he was yours. His lips felt perfect against yours, as if he was always meant to be there. His mouth covered yours completely and his hand was on the back of your neck. He pulled you closer to him and with every second, he was taking more control over you. His tongue slithered inside of your mouth and he sucked on it, twirling his around in your mouth.

“You like that?” He asked and you could barely open your eyes to look at him. You were too focused on the feeling and more importantly the throbbing you felt. “I can see, just from how you’re looking at me, how you feel.”

“Stop talking.” You muttered and he did a small laugh.

“You’re so cute.” He swallows, his lips dry. “You make me so crazy, I never climbed up to a window before. This is a two story house you know. Don’t I deserve a little…reward?” He doesn’t look at you when he speaks. “And I can see just how bad you want it, so let me take care of you, okay?”

Your eyes widen, “Don’t… don’t tease me.” He didn’t want to say it again but you looked so cute with your wide blown eyes with your eyebrows furrowed. “But… I mean, I’m not opposed to the idea.” You were just glad that your room wasn’t on the same floor as your parents and you thanked the stars for the thick walls.

“Really? I didn’t think you’d be so easy.” He pulls you closer to him.

You snort, “Shut up before I change my mind!” Then he kisses you again, very light and all over your face making you smile. Your body felt so gooey and your stomach was tangled in knots.

“I know just what to do, so just let me do everything, okay?” He pulled your cute frilly pink nightgown off of you and cupped your butt. “These little panties of yours are so pretty, look just like something I’d expect you to wear.” They were cream white and soft, small flowers designed on them. “Here, lay down.” He helps you lay flat on your own bed.

He pulled your underwear down slowly, anticipating killing him. But it paid off when he saw how cute your fat pussy was. He groaned looking at how your labia was covered with bits of your slick as it peeked out from your lips. He just wanted to look for a second or maybe more; he pulled your lips apart and he groaned. You were more sticky and dripping wet, your clit was big and engorged. “Oh fuck, I didn’t know what I was getting into, huh? Such a pretty little pussy. Prettiest pussy I've ever seen.” He moved his body towards the end of the bed and sat on his knees, pulling you closer to the end of the bed.

You looked cuter from where he was; your eyes squeezed tight and your hand already tangled in his hair. He blew a bit of air on you and he smiled when your entire body twitched. “You’re already ready, baby. Keep your hands right there.”

He kissed your inner thighs and sucked your folds in his mouth with a groan. His mouth wide as he dribbled spit on your clit. “You’re already so messy but I gotta get you ready for me, you understand that, right?”

“God, yes, Satoru. Just please—” You didn’t even finish your sentence before he spread you again and moved his head side to side and buried his face deeper into your pussy. A lewd wet squelching sound all over the room just when his nose bumps against your clit. He moves back and just admires you for a moment before kissing your thighs again.

He slurps at your opening before his tongue nudges at it and your hand grips his hair tighter. He licks a trail up your slit then places his tongue flat against your core. “‘Toru, stop teasing me.” You can hear him give a breathy laugh.

“You just taste so good, ‘could do this all night.” He says before he sticks his tongue inside of you finally. His chin was already wet but now as he sucks and moves his tongue inside of your pussy, it just gets wetter. You wiggle your hips and push yourself down the bed, trying to get more of his mouth on you if possible. “Greedy little thing, aren’t you?” Your hips grind against his face and your eyes roll back as he sucks on you really hard, licking up and down your slit again and again. Rolling his tongue around your clit messily.

“Gonna put a finger inside of you, okay? Relax.” He tells you, nudging his finger at your hole. “Opening up, like a charm. There we go,” He eases his finger inside and you cream a bit, it runs down his finger. “Good girl.”He purrs, scissoring his fingers inside of you. A harsh whimper comes out of your mouth and he looks at you, rubbing a finger on your clit in circles. He presses kisses on your thighs again and one on your stomach and your belly trembles, so ticklish.

With his finger working your clit, he goes back to twirling his tongue inside of you, switching between his tongue and fingers being inside of you. Your insides clamped down on his fingers and he groaned, your thighs trembled before you spoke.

“Satoru, fuck— I’m gonna cum if you keep.” Your back arches more off the bed; your face scrunches up as he adds two fingers to your cunt, pumping them in and out, pressing deep upwards and rubbing in that special place. You shutter.

“It’s okay, cum. Fuck, cum all over my face.” Your walls flutter against his fingers and a bit of wetness squirts out when he presses inside of you again. “You’re so pretty when you squirt for me baby. So fucking cute.” He curls his fingers inside of you; you gush more wetness out on him. “So good.” He mutters, removing his fingers and sucking on your clit.

“Sa-Satoru please, I can’t— I just…wait…please… I just need a bre–akkk!” He sucks on your folds and rubs you clit again before he sucks hard on the bundle of nerves. Your legs shaking when he finally moves from your pussy.

He smiles down at you, “You okay?” He watches you huff before you shove him slightly. He gives you a sly smile.

“You’re so…” You’re out of breath as you speak. “Oh god, that felt so good.”

He was trying not to smirk but it was hard. “You’re welcome baby.” He lets you lay there, before pulling you close. “You tired? We can sleep.”

“Nuh-Uh.” You sit up, hugging him to your body.

“C-can I?” You motioned towards his pants and he grinned at you.

“You sure you can take it? I don’t mean to brag but baby, this is a weapon of mass destruction.” He looked at you, his lips in a thin line before you both started laughing.

“You’re so lame!” You tell him, a small smile on your lips. You grab his face and sit on his lap, feeling just how hard he was under you. “But I want to,” You hands traveled up and down his shoulder. “I can’t ever stop thinking about you, you know. I just want to see it. I want to suck it.”

He bit his lip and lifted his hips upwards, his eyes on you and the tip of his ears red. “Okay, yeah.” He stumbled the words out. He couldn’t believe you right now; how utterly sexy you were being for him and how you had him being the nervous one. “You feel how hard I am? That’s just for you.” He tells you, watching your hand touch him through his pants.

You unzip his pants and help him out of his boxers.

“Okay, so be gentle.” He tells you, awkwardly patting your head. “So, just hold it and you can run your hand up and down but don’t–” He grips the sheet when you lick your hand and runs it up and down his length. You keep your eyes on him, smiling. His eyes are now squeezed shut and you like seeing him look so weak because of you.

He doesn’t expect you to put him in your mouth so fast but you do. Not inch by inch like a virgin, no, you kiss his head and he shutters then with your hand on the base, you take whatever you can and put it in your mouth. “Ohhh fuck. Your mouth is so–” You meet his eyes as you bob your head up and down, swirling your tongue around him. Your mouth is sloppy – so much saliva covering his length and he can’t believe you were like this. Twisting your hand on the base of his cock and even touching his balls, massaging them.

“Okay…okay, that’s enough. I– fuck,” You jerk his cock as he speaks.

“You sure?” You lick his tip.

“Y-yeah. Just wanna be inside of you.” He pulls your hands away from him. “C’mere.” He taps your chin and you stand up; putting your legs on either side of him. Taking your jaw in his hand, he kisses you. Then he does it again. His hands on your hips, rubbing his thumbs into your back. Grinding against him, feeling your pussy throb against his bare cock. He smiles, “Feeling this pretty little pussy against me, fuck…feels so…” His cock twitches against you. He lays you down on your bed again and lays on top of you, not putting his full weight against your body. He tugs his shirt over his head.

Both of you are naked and bare to each other. He slid his aching cock over your folds causing you both to moan. He did it again, his chest against yours. Grinding against you, raising his hips against yours. “You like that?” He asked, needy and pleased at your expression.

He slapped the head of his cock against your clit, watching you flinch and jump. “You’re so fucking pretty. Prettiest girl ever.” He kissed your nose. “Gonna fuck you so good and make you even prettier, ‘Kay?”

Your back arched off the bed, “Satoru — fuck.”

“I’m gonna rock your world, stretch this pussy out that you’ll have no choice but to only think of me.” He kisses your neck and pulls your legs further apart. He moves his hands down to your pussy; spreading your lips and rubbing the palm of his hand against your clit in a hard circular motion. “Relax. Deep breath.”

Taking a deep breath and then a strong exhale, his cockhead rubs at your folds and his tip enters your pussy. Your nails dig deep into his skin and you bite your lip. “Oh gosh.” Your nails pinch his skin as he slides inside deeper. He pushes forward again and then you both moan.

Locking your ankles at the lower end of his back and he does one small thrust, his hips rocking against yours. He pulls your legs on his shoulders and he bottoms out, sucking in a breath. “Fuck, you’re tight.” His pelvis comes in contact with your clit, making you moan with every thrust.

You’re crying; because of course you’d be and he thinks it’s cute and glorious how glossy your eyes get — your lashes stuck together and your pretty eyes shiny. This, it was this, that made him want to fuck you like this — your eyes on his as he wipes your face and you sniffle and gasp, he kisses your face.

He’s entwining your fingers and looking at you deep in your eyes, his pretty bright eyes staring you down as he fucks you. Your eyes roll back and you’re whining. He promised to ruin you for any other guy and he was fulfilling that as he went in deeper. You clamped down on him and wrapped your legs around him, your arms around his neck and he chuckled. “You okay?” He huffed.

You were quiet besides the moaning, almost too scared to talk. “Mhm. Y-yes.” He slams inside of you, his balls slapping against your ass. Your pussy spasming against his cock, wet noises echo around the room. The jarring sound of wetness and skin against skin only making you hornier and you knew he could feel it.

“You’re so wet, you’re soaking the bed.” Every time he thrust inside of you, squirt spilled out of you and he smiled. “You’re doing really good for this to be your first time. You like my dick that much? So much that you can take it like a good girl?” Your body wound up and tight as he fucks you open, your stomach tight as you get closer to the end.

His dick made more squirt spill from your body. Your legs shaking as he spoke, all you could do was take it. “Please.” You whined. “Don’t stop.” Hips grinding against each other before his hips stutter and his body shakes hard. Wetness all over your thighs as he keeps going. You whine and sniffle when the wave comes over you again and cum. Creamy wetness at the base of his cock, grinding himself further inside.

He presses his forehead against yours and squeezes his eyes shut. “Fuck, you feel so good.” His cock brushed against your cervix, pounding inside of you. “Prettiest pussy I ever had. Best pussy I ever had.” He tells you, completely out of breath. Moving between your legs to rub your achy clit.

“Gonna come baby.” He groans and you take the chance to press your lips against his, letting his tongue explore your mouth, his cock bruising your pussy.

When Satoru comes, he comes hard. Hot liquid spilling inside of you, deep inside. He holds still, his face buried inside your neck. He does another thrust and you both take a deep breath, bodies trembling together.

You lay there for a while; him on top of you and you playing in his soft hair. Kissing the top of his head you say, “Wanna come with me? Traveling, I mean. It can just be us.”

His eyes closed while he drifts to sleep, “I’d like that.”

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asterias-record-shop · 11 months

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╭════• ೋ•✧๑♡๑✧•ೋ •═══╮

— come over

╰════• ೋ•✧๑♡๑✧•ೋ •═══╯

𓆩[main masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[request/ask me something!]𓆪

Ethan’s such a virgin, he gets a boner every time he sees you.

**made up colors for the school, also, this was supposed to be short but now it’s a whole thing-

You weren’t like those other cheerleaders, you were smart and everyone knew it. With every tube top and every mini skirt you wore, there was ten times the knowledge anyone else had on quite literally anything else in the world.

He liked to study on the bleachers when you practiced your routine, the pretty red and white fabric of your cheerleading uniform. You would pause the music, bending down and showing off those pretty red shorts that were under your skirt. “Girls!” You scolded, groaning. “We’re not even close to being done! Or ready! You don’t know how to pop your hip, you don’t know how to do the splits, you- agh!”

You yelled out in frustration as Tara slowly came down the sidewalk, laughing. “Calm down, Y/N, you’re going insane.”

You turned, gasping. “Tara! Honey, you’re here!”

“Not for practice,” she dismissed quickly making you whine. “I think your stalker is here.”

You turned, Ethan quickly looking down at his notebook and fixing it over his lap to hide his hard on. “Oh, no! Ethan’s going to help me study when I’m done with practice, he’s harmless, you know that.”

Tara sighed. “Are you sure? I just… I don’t want you to be alone with him, I can come with you? And Chad?”

You shook your head. “No, I want to be alone with him,” you say with a smile. “I want to see what I can get out of him. See if I can find out if he knows anything about that new psycho.”

Tara rose a brow. “How are you going to do that? Hm?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know yet.”

“He’s infatuated with you, you know,” she says, raising a brow. “I’m sure you can take that a little… farther, if you’d like.”

Your face scrunched as you looked back at Ethan, who again looked back down at his notebook. “I didn’t think I was his type. I don’t know if I’m someone he actually likes, y’know?”

Tara laughed. “Oh he likes you, alright,” she looks at Ethan who’s eyes flicked up before going back down. “Think he likes you more than you think.”

Two hours later, you still weren’t done with practice. It was getting dark, and the only reason why you ended practice was because you didn’t want any girl to go home with a psychopath on the loose. “If you girls don’t work on this, I swear I’ll put you all to work from dusk till… a few minutes before dawn! Go, get home safe! I want everyone in groups! And texts when you get home!”

The girls yelled out okays and good byes as you gather your stuff, Ethan quickly disappearing from the bleachers making you sigh. When you stand, you could feel someone way too close to you making you rush to turn around, gasping. “Oh! Ethan, you scared me!”

He jumped back, gasping. “Oh, I’m s-so sorry, I just-”

You giggled. “Oh, don’t worry,” you say with a smile. “Do you mind walking me home? I don’t know if we’ll be able to study tonight, but you can stop by early tomorrow and we can have breakfast and review! Sounds good?”

Ethan nods automatically, head bobbing up and down. Any moment spent with you was worth it. “Yeah, that sounds good, I-I just… nothing, is your apartment far?”

You giggled, shaking your head. “It’s just off campus. I promise, it’s not a long walk. And it’s not too far from your apartment, either, so you’re not walking alone.”

He tilts his head slightly, confused. “How do you know that?”

You giggle. “I see you walking home some days,” you explained, offering your hand. “Walk me home?”

He nods immediately, fixing his bag and slowly taking your hand. He fixes it to cover his lower waist, his hand slightly sweaty in yours as you squeezed slightly. “I-I uhm… I wanted to ask if you would like to… h-have breakfast with me in the morning?”

You look over, confused. “That’s what I invited you over for, Ethan.”

“What do you sleep in?” It came out quick, his hand covering his mouth. “I didn’t- that wasn’t what I was-”

“It depends on the night,” you hummed, your hand squeezing his as you look up at him. “If it’s super hot, I don’t sleep in anything. If it’s not, it’s shorts and a tank top, sometimes one is missing.”

Ethan hides his smile. As smart as you were academically, he loved how oblivious — maybe stupid — you were in things like this.

The rest of the time was silent, Ethan’s hand warm and not sweaty as he stood in front of your apartment. “I uhm… I hope you have a good night.”

You smile, nodding. “Thank you, honey, I appreciate it,” you giggle, fixing your skirt. “Well uhm… I’ll see you in the morning!”

Ethan nods, hand holding yours tightly. “W-Wait. We should… if you don’t mind, can I have y-your number?”

You nod. “Right! Here, call me when you get home, alright?”

He nods. “Yes, y-yeah I will.”

You smiled, giggling. “Goodnight, Ethan.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

He all but ran home, quickly saying hi to Chad before calling you. It took you a few rings to pick up, your groggy voice saying you had just woken up. “Hello?”

“Y/N? It’s Ethan.”

You smiled, turning as you pull the blanket closer to your bare body. “Hey E, did you get home okay? Can I call you that?”

He was already pushing down his pants and underwear, grunting as he laid down. “Y-Yeah, of course, you can call me whatever you want.”

You giggled as he starts pumping himself, fast and hard making his eyes roll back. “Whatever I want?”

He whimpers out a hum, nodding. “Y-Yes. Yes, whatever you want.”

You couldn’t hear him as you hummed, falling into sleep. He was pumping himself, no need for lube with how much precum was leaking out of his tip. “Y-Y/N,” he moaned out, your eyes slowly fluttering open.

“Hm? Sorry, I was falling asleep.”

“N-No, don’t… I-I want to hear your voice. Can you keep talking, please?” His voice was high pitched, whiny as you giggle, not noticing the difference in his voice.

“Oh… well, what do you want to hear?”

“A-Anything,” he whines, inhaling sharply. He swiped his thumb over his tip, head tilting back. “Anything.”

“Well… I think I’m going to change up some of the routine. The girls aren’t getting it and the game is soon,” you exhaled, humming. “But I was having a lot of fun with it.”

Just the thought of you dropping down to the ground, legs spread as you threw your head back, quickly being helped up by two other girls to take your position as captain and jump up, tits bouncing made him hold back a whimper, hand pumping fast. “I could see that, Y-Y/N. You w-were doing really good, looked like you were having fun.”

You giggle, smiling as you fixed yourself on the bed. “I was having a lot of fun, but the girls couldn’t keep up.”

“Th-They don’t deserve you,” he says, grunting. Your voice at night was so gritty, full of tiredness, the epitome of what he thought you’d sound like after he fucked you so hard and made the mascara run down your pretty face. “N-None of them do.”

They didn’t, you were his. He didn’t deserve you either, but he needed you like a person needed food and water, just the sound of your voice made him hold back cumming. He would call you every night from now on just to get off to your voice.

“Oh, Ethan,” you groaned, laughing. His eyes rolled back, his teeth digging into his bottom lip so hard to hold back moans. “You’re so sweet, honey.”

“D-Did you take off your makeup?” If he was fucking you right now, would your lipstick be smeared? Would your mascara be running down your cheeks, would your eyeshadow be all fucked up?

“Oh yeah,” you smiled. It was sweet that he cared. “I take it off every night, even if I’m tired. Don’t want to break out.”

He groaned, head thrown back. He loved seeing you with or without makeup, as long as you felt pretty, he didn’t care. He was going to make you sob either way from how much he’d fuck you. “A-And what are you wearing?”

“Hm? Oh, nothing,” you shrugged, sighing. “It’s really hot.”

Nothing. Oh the thought made him cum just by your words, choking making your brows ruffle in concern.

“Ethan? You okay?”

“Y-Yeah, I’m good,” he groaned. He was so good, cock twitching as he continued to pump himself. “J-Just don’t feel good.”

“Do you want to come over? Come over, I have medicine,” you start to stand, inhaling deeply. “Please? I want to make sure you’re okay.”

He groaned, nodding. Pass up an opportunity to go to your house? Hell no.

“Okay. I’m on my way.”

part 2

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#asterias-record-shop #requests open #etha #ethan landry #ethan #ethan landry x reader #eth #ethan landry smut #ethan landry x y/n #ethan landry x you #scream six #Scream #scream fanfic #scream movies #scream vi

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togrowoldinv · 8 days

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Drill Lessons

Natasha Romanoff x Female Reader

Natasha shows you how to use a power tool and your mutual crush comes to light

Warnings: Smut! 18+ please! Kissing, cursing, oral (N and R receiving)

Natasha Masterlist 1, Natasha Masterlist 2, Natasha Masterlist 3, Main Masterlist

To you, Natasha Romanoff is the most beautiful woman to ever walk the earth.

You’ve been wanting to tell her for months that you like her. Ever since you joined the team you’ve had feelings for her. But you can’t get a read on her.

You have no idea if she has feelings for you too. Sometimes it feels like she’s flirting with you but then you see or hear her act the same way with one of the guys and you brush it off as nothing.

This weekend Clint invited everyone to his farm to enjoy a quick getaway and clear your heads. Missions hadn’t been easy lately, so you all needed the reprieve.

When you arrive, Natasha walks in the house first. She’s clearly very comfortable here.

“Welcome!” Laura says to everyone. “Come on in. Make yourselves at home!”

“Thank you for having us, Mrs. Barton,” you say when you greet her.

“Oh please, called me Laura,” she says. Then she addresses everyone, “We don’t have enough rooms so you’ll have to share. Nat, can y/n sleep with you?”

You try not to have a visceral reaction to the idea. You hold your breath as you await her reply.

“Sure,” Nat simply says. She turns to you, “I’ll show you the way.”

You follow her up the stairs where you run across a couple of kids.

“Auntie Nat?” A girl asks, in shock of seeing Nat.

“Hey malyshka,” Natasha replies. She brings the girl in for a hug. “Lila, this is y/n. Hopefully you won’t discover you like her more than you like me.”

You smile and wave to Lila. She returns the smile before running off downstairs.

Nat takes you down the hallway and to what appears to be her bedroom when she stays here. There are photos of the Barton family and Nat on the dresser. You admire how happy she looks here.

“I always sleep on the door side, but we’ll do whatever you feel comfortable with,” Nat says.

“Oh, either side works for me.”

Nat nods. You set your bag down on the bed and unpack a few things. Natasha moves around the room, gathering a few of her own things.

You both go back downstairs for the rest of the evening. Nothing too eventful happens. Everyone makes plans to spend time outside tomorrow.

Natasha is first to the bedroom. She slips into the bed casually. You try to do the same but fail miserably at not looking nervous.

“I don’t bite, you know,” Nat says teasingly.

“Right,” you respond too quickly. “I just- sorry.”

“Relax, y/n,” she says. You settle on your side of the bed. “Goodnight.”

“Night, Natasha.”

You both drift off into a peaceful sleep. You first, and then Natasha.

At some point during the night, you end up snuggling close to Natasha. She wakes up to the feeling of your arm draping over her. But she doesn’t mind it. Actually, she likes it.

When you wake up in the morning, you find yourself still nestled in her arms.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you say, trying to move off of her.

“Hey, it’s fine,” Nat says, only tightening her grip a bit before letting you loose. “So, you’re a cuddler, huh?”

You look away shyly and Nat just smirks. Now you definitely can’t believe you slept next to Natasha and accidentally snuggled with her all night. She doesn’t say anything else about it until you go downstairs for the day.

“Good morning!” Laura greets. She’s pulling fresh biscuits from the oven. “How did you sleep?”

“Good,” you answer briefly.

“She sure was cozy,” Nat interjects. It’s just Laura in the room with you two, but you still try to hold back a blush.

“Mhm, I’m sure,” Laura replies. Somehow you’re sure she knows the way you feel about Nat and how Nat feels about you.

Soon, the boys come tumbling into the kitchen. You all go outside to do your respective chosen activities. Steve promised to show you how to chop wood while Nat and Clint run off to the barn to build a new shelter for some of the animals.

“So, what’s the deal with you and Romanoff?” Steve asks after a few minutes of chopping the wood.

“Oh, is there- is there a me and Romanoff?”

“Is there not?” He asks genuinely. “I’m sorry. I just thought that you two- nevermind.”

“It’s okay,” you reply, shrugging.

It does leave you wondering if the other members of the team think something is happening there too. You try not to think about it too much as you continue to work outside. The fresh air does wonders for you.

Steve asks you to go grab the axe sharpening block from the barn, so you walk to the structure. When you get there, you catch sight of something that makes your jaw practically drop to the ground.

Natasha is wearing only a blank tank top and shorts are she uses a power drill to build a wooden structure. Sweat drips down her neck and chest as she expertly uses the tool.

You swear she catches the sight of you out of the corner of her eye, but she continues on with her drilling. She lifts heavy pieces of wood with ease. You can’t stop staring.

Nat lifts her tank top up to wipe the sweat from her face. You see her ab happy stomach and the sports bra that’s keeping the rest of her skin covered.

“Enjoying the view?” Nat says aloud. You’ve definitely been caught now.

“Oh, I was just-“ you start, but there’s no use. You were doing exactly that. “My bad.”

“Don’t apologize,” Nat says. “Come on in, what did you need?”

“We needed the axe sharpener block thing?”

“Is that a question?”

“Well, I don’t know what it is so yes?”

Nat chuckles. She turns to look at the shelf behind her for the tool you need. Her backside somehow looks just as good as her front.

“Here you go,” Nat says. She hands you the block. You are standing close to her now. “The real fun is happening in there though. I can show you how to use this.”

She gestures to the drill in her left hand, pressing her finger on the trigger to make it whir. You shouldn’t be so intrigued by it. Or by her for that matter. But you are.

“Maybe tomorrow you can show me?” You ask her.

“How about tonight?” Nat asks. Her voice drops an octave. You pray she means what you think she means.

You swallow shyly and Nat shoots you a smile. Slowly, you leave her there and go back to Steve. He doesn’t mention how long it took you to get the tool, thank goodness.

Later that day, you all grill out burgers and hotdogs. Clint tries to show off his grilling skills, but the team just gives him a hard time saying that it’s not all that hard anyways.

By the time evening comes, everyone’s sitting around a campfire. Natasha sits across from you. She glances at her phone and then to you as a way of alerting you to look at your phone.

The text reads: Meet me in the barn. 10 minutes.

You nod in her direction to acknowledge you got the message. The minutes pass by and you both leave to go to the barn.

When you get inside, Nat is already over by the wood she was working with earlier.

“Come on, I’ll show you,” Nat says.

“Okay,” you agree. You stand next to her.

“First things first, always know your surroundings,” Nat says.

She abruptly places her hands on your hips. She easily moves you to the right and left to observe your surroundings. Your heart stops when she reaches around you and her face is mere inches from yours.

She steps back and has a pair of clear glasses in her hand.

“And wear safety glasses,” she says. She places them on your face. You’re sure you look like an absolute fool. “Cute.”

“You didn’t wear these yesterday,” comes your reply.

“That’s because I’m an expert,” Nat says. She surprises you by pinching your cheeks. “You’ll get there, sweetheart.”

Natasha grabs the drill and ushers you to move closer to the wood with her. She takes you through step by step on how to use the power tool.

“Now, you can try,” Nat says.

“Okay,” you reply. You feel a little nervous about trying it. Nat assures you that you can’t mess it up.

You try to focus even with Nat being so close to you. For the first time using a drill, you don’t do terribly.

“Nice job, y/n,” Nat says. “But you’ll want to apply more pressure. Let me help you, sweetheart.”

Natasha places her hand on yours and pushes down on the drill. You pull the trigger and drill the screw into the wood. Her hot breath is on your neck.

You smile at your success and turn just enough to look at Nat. She’s just inches from you.

“Should we take this inside?” Nat asks. Her eyes glance to your lips and back up to your eyes. She brings her other hand to your cheek and brushes the back of it against it.

“Are you- um- yes?”

“Yes? Or yes.”

“The second one,” you say. Natasha smirks at you.

You leave the drill and safety glasses behind. Natasha holds your hand as she walks you to the house. You slip upstairs easily and she closes her bedroom door behind her.

“I’ve had my eye on you for a while,” Natasha says.

“Really?” You ask innocently.

“Really, detka. Come here,” she says, bringing you to the bed with her.

You sit next to her and she kisses you softly. It’s like floating on a cloud. You didn’t think she would be this gentle. But you’re loving it.

“May I?” Nat asks, gesturing to your shirt. You nod. She lifts the material over your head. “Beautiful.”

You feel sure you’re blushing at her words and the way her eyes rake over your body.

“Can I- um?” You pull at her tank top hem.

“Yes, baby,” Natasha says. “You can do anything to me.”

You lift the thin material over her head. Your heart stops at her beauty. You immediately lean forward and take her nipple into your mouth. It surprises Natasha how intentional you are being.

“Fuck, baby.”

“Is this okay?” You ask, pulling away a bit. Nat pulls your head back to her breasts. You’ll take that as a yes.

Natasha fumbles with your pants. She gets them unbuttoned but grumbles in frustration when she can’t get them off. You chuckle against her.

“Okay, hold on,” Nat says. She stands up and pulls her own pants down before grabbing you by the hips and pulling you up too.

Natasha takes your pants off with ease this time and slips them down your legs along with your underwear. She grins and drops to her knees. It doesn’t take her long to get to work licking and sucking at your pussy.

“Oh my god,” you moan out.

“You taste so good, baby. All for me,” Nat says.

“Fuck.”

You feel close to coming embarrassingly quickly but Natasha is proud of her work.

“Come for me, y/n,” she says. Her voice drips with sex.

“Fuck, Natasha!”

You come hard against her tongue. She licks you clean and stands back up. She kisses you deeply. It’s the most on fire you have ever felt.

“I want to taste you,” you tell Nat.

“Your wish is my command,” Nat says. She lays on the bed and you crawl over her body.

“So beautiful,” you say as you kiss from between her breasts down to her hips.

“You’re not so shy now are you?” Nat asks. You answer by diving into her wet pussy.

Her folds are slick and she’s ready for you. You lick and suck her, cherishing every noise she makes.

“Fuck, baby,” Nat says. “I’m going to come.”

“Come for me, Natasha.”

She does just that. You relish in the sounds she makes. You move back up her body and lay next to her.

“So, all of those times I thought you were flirting with me you actually were?” You break the silence.

Nat chuckles. “Yes, y/n. I’ve been hinting at it for months. I’m glad we finally got on the same page.”

She looks at you through her long eyelashes. You rest your head on her shoulder.

“I’ve always liked you, Natasha,” you say. “Do you think the team noticed we left?”

“Nah,” Nat says. “Even if they did, I don’t care. I have you.”

“You sure do.”

You snuggle further into Natasha. She holds you close as you lay together and talk for hours.

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #soft natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff comfort #natasha romanoff smut

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bookshelf-dust · 8 months

Text

kiss it better

steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 3,176

warnings: swearing, sick fic (sorta), steve not taking care of himself, anxiety, stress, mental breakdown?, best friends to lovers deal (let me know if i missed something)

a/n: hi! it’s been awhile. i’m sorry about that. this has been a very slow process for me. my mental health is shit, and that’s probably obvious. i hope it hasn’t seeped into this too much, but it probably will with the next few things i write. i apologize for taking so long to post, for disappearing, for not really making this the blog it once was. but i’m not the same person i was then. so we’ll see where this goes. i hope you enjoy this one a little. i love you.

————

The shrill sound of a phone ringing scares you awake, eyes flying open, heart pounding so aggressively you fear for a split second that it might burst.

You sit up quickly, enough so that you make yourself dizzy trying to get your bearings. You roll onto your side, and reach blindly across the edge of your nightstand, grabbing for the green plastic that’s shaking with the force of which it’s ringing.

You almost fall out of bed, just managing to catch yourself as you bring the phone to your ear.

“Hello?”

Your voice comes out weak, thick with sleep and the longing for more rest. It startles you and makes you clear your throat.

“Hey, it’s me.”

The voice on the other line is even weaker than your own. It’s quiet.

“Steve?”

Your eyes find the alarm clock on your dresser, bright red letters telling you it’s just after one in the morning. You might be half-asleep, but you’re conscious enough that your heart rate picks up, registering that this isn’t when your best friend normally calls.

You hear him breathe, along with some shuffling. He’s nodding his head, but realizes you can’t see.

“Yeah. Listen,” he drags a shaking hand down his face. “I’m sorry to call so late.”

“Hey, it’s okay. What’s the matter? Is something wrong?”

He goes quiet for a moment, but you wait patiently for him to continue. He must be trying to get something out, and you don’t want to pressure him, or cause him stress in any way.

Steve huffs, frustrated with himself.

“I-I’ve got an insane headache, and we’re out of goddamn medicine. My parents were here, and my mom was hungover and I guess she must’ve emptied us out, but it hurts too bad to drive, and…” He trails off, breathing heavily.

His pause lends you a moment to process, and you decide to speak up. If his head is killing him, you know finding the energy to speak to you, let alone call, has to be draining. You wouldn’t want him to suffer anymore than he already is.

“Stevie?” you start, happy to hear a small hum that encourages you to go on. He registers what you’ve called him, something you don’t call him often, and his chest aches. “I’ve got some I can bring you. I think all the drugstores nearby are closed.”

You swing your legs out from under the covers, pushing yourself off the mattress. Pressing the phone between your cheek and shoulder, you pull on the pair of sweats slung over the end of your bed, trying not to bust your ass as you hop into them.

“Is anything else hurting you?” you ask, gently as can be.

“Honestly?” he responds. “I think I’m sick. I can’t be sick, can I?”

You stand upright once again, taking the phone firmly in your hand.

“I think even King Steve can get sick from time to time. I’ll be there soon, okay?”

————

Steve’s not sure you understand him. He can’t be sick. He’s got shit to do. He has a shift tomorrow, and he’s pretty sure Dustin needs a ride one day this week because Claudia is on a “girls trip.” He has to keep working on his college essay, because he’d told you he was almost done, but really he isn’t.

Steve doesn’t have the time to be sick. And he can’t have you ruining your own schedule to come and babysit him. He’s supposed to be the babysitter. Not the charge.

He should be able to take care of himself, but of course, the one time his parents come home they clean out his mediocre supply of medicine. Something he’s always stocked up on, given his tendency to get the shit beat out of him, or the nasty string of tension headaches that just won’t quit.

And his head is killing him. He has his palms pressed to his temples, trying (and failing) to dull the ache. There aren’t any lights on in the kitchen, where he’s sitting on the floor, back pressed to the cabinets.

He’s trying not to move too much either, because he’s dizzy. This probably has to do with the fact that he skipped dinner, feeling too nauseous to eat. Now that Steve is hungry, he fears he won’t be able to get up and fix anything.

Maybe you’ll be able to help, he thinks. But that voice is quick with a counter argument. No. I need to do it.

He perks up at the sound of the front door opening. “Steve?” you call out, careful not to slam the door or yell too loud. It’s also why you hadn’t rung the doorbell.

Steve raps his knuckles softly against the countertop, hoping it’ll be enough to clue you in. He can’t bring himself to shout right now. You follow the sound, taking the few steps toward the kitchen.

When your eyes lock on his figure, see the way the heels of his hands press into his eyes, you realize how young he looks. He almost looks small, legs pulled up to his chest, big, lanky body compacted as much as possible. He looks vulnerable. You’re sure he hates that.

“Hi, Steve,” you say, keeping your voice low.

He looks up at you, and his face splits into a sweet grin. He’s happy that you’re here, even if that voice is screaming at him, wanting to punish him for asking for help.

“Hey, honey.” You smile back at him, and his heart rate picks up. Sometimes he forgets how beautiful you are, and then you’re standing in front of him, snatching every last breath from his lungs.

You set your bag down beside him and reach out, brushing his hair back from his forehead. He feels a little warm, but not feverishly so.

You move away from him, grabbing a cup from the drying rack. You fill it up with water and crouch at his side. Steve takes the glass from you, head resting against the cabinet to watch as you grab him some medicine. You hand him a few pills, and he takes them quickly. If he doesn’t get this headache calmed down soon, he thinks he might just die.

Steve keeps drinking the water you gave him, and you push his hair back again, watching the way it curls around his ears.

He drinks about half of the water before he pauses, taking a deep breath. He looks at you then. It’s mostly dark in the kitchen, but the lamp on the table by the front door is on, so you’re a little backlit from it. Not to mention the moonlight seeping in from the window above the sink.

You look gorgeous. And you came over to take care of him. You got up, at one in the morning, and drove to his house, just because he asked you to. Hell, he hadn’t even asked. He hadn’t gotten the words out. But you’d known. You’d known exactly what he was trying to ask, and you’d offered your help with no qualms.

Steve’s nose starts to sting, and that pressure from behind his eyes—it starts to release. Before he knows it, his vision is getting cloudy, and he’s crying. He can’t be crying, can he?

You carefully remove the glass from his hand and move in between his spread knees.

“Steve, it’s okay. I’m here, and I’m gonna take top notch care of you.”

“I know you are,” he says, voice breaking. “But I should be able to do it myself. I always do it myself.” He presses his hands against his face, but you catch his wrists and gently pull them away.

You hold your arms out, and Steve practically falls into you. He buries his face in your neck. He can feel the warmth of your skin, the cotton of your sleep shirt. You smell like soap, that fancy conditioner you use.

One of your hands finds the base of his neck, nails scratching gently over his scalp, thumb dragging over the top of his spine. Your other rubs soothingly up and down his back.

“But the thing is, Stevie, you don’t have to.”

He’s not a loud crier. But he is sort of panicky, breaths coming quick and short, chest heaving against your own. “I know you’ve always had to do a lot by yourself, but you can ask for help, and you don’t have to punish yourself for it, either.”

You feel him nod against your collarbone. His hands are fisting the back of your shirt. Eventually, he pulls away, but keeps his eyes closed. He tries to keep his head turned from your gaze.

“Hey. Look at me.”

He does, albeit reluctantly. Steve’s cheeks are flushed, lashes clumped together and lips parted where he tries to suck in a good deep breath.

You reach up, fingers gently sweeping away the remainder of the tears on his face. He leans into your touch, and you let him. You lean forward and press a sweet kiss to his forehead. You’ve never done that before.

Steve recognizes that you’ve never done it before, even if it’s sort of fuzzy. Sure, he’s kissed the back of your hand and you’ve reciprocated, but he’s usually the one to initiate physical affection. You’re too shy most often, even if you ache to do it.

Fuck, he wishes he were a little more coherent right now.

“Can you stand for me? It’s late, and I think you need to rest.”

He runs a hand through his hair. “Yeah, sure.” Now that he’s thinking about it, getting in bed sounds so nice.

You stand first, and watch as Steve pushes off the floor, gripping the countertop on the way up to steady himself.

“Come on. The stairs are gonna be a pain.”

He reaches out for you, and you let him take your arm. He pads out to the staircase, and you watch each precarious step he takes, hoping he won’t get too woozy and trip.

By the time he finally makes it up there, he’s wrapped both arms around your waist and buried his face between your shoulder blades. You soften beneath his hold.

You walk slowly towards his bedroom, and he waddles behind you. You push the door open. “M’kay, Steve. Wanna change clothes and hop into bed?”

He pulls off of you and grabs hold of his dresser. “I’m not givin’ you a free show.”

You snort. “I’ll go get some more water and be right back.”

His grin fades. “Please be fast.” He doesn’t want you to go. He doesn’t want you to leave him.

“Steve, I’m practically The Flash.”

He laughs, pulling a pair of sweats and a t-shirt out of the drawer. Usually he’d sleep in less, but with you here he feels he should keep his modesty.

When you return, he takes the water from you, drinking it faster than he probably should. Steve feels like he’s had the shit beat out of him, and for once—he hasn’t.

You’d sat down on the edge of the bed, not noticing the way he’s staring at you. You look up when he sets the glass down. He drags both hands down his face.

“What’s wrong?” you ask.

He exhales. “I want you to stay here with me, but I don’t want you to get sick. The idea of you being on the couch, which is like, miles away, is driving me insane.”

“Steve?”

“Huh?”

“Can’t I just sleep on the futon?”

His eyes move towards the other side of his room where said piece of furniture is pressed against the wall. He’d bought it when group sleepovers became a thing after all they’d dealt with. Jesus, his brain really isn’t working.

“Oh. Yeah, honey. Just don’t want you to go far.”

You lean forward and push his hair back from his forehead. You’ll need to remember to take his temperature come morning.

“I’m not going anywhere, Steve. I promise. Not until you’re all better.”

————

When Steve wakes up, you’re not there. He starts to panic, thinking maybe he’d been too much, maybe he’d shown you a side of himself he shouldn’t have, that maybe you left.

But you return to his room just as he’s about to start looking for you. There’s a thermometer in your hand.

“Morning, sleepy boy. Are you coherent enough for me to check your temperature? Or no?”

He yanks the covers off of himself, and his shirt has ridden up. You catch a sliver of tummy before he sits up fully, and you miss it the second it’s gone.

“Hit me, I can take it.”

You roll your eyes but stick the thermometer under his tongue when he opens his mouth. When you pull it away, you’re happy to see he hasn’t got a fever. He was warm last night when you kissed his forehead, but you’re thinking it was from stress or just overheating.

“No fever. What’s buggin’ you today, Stevie?”

He flops onto his back, and his shirt rides up again. You mentally slap yourself for being so enamored by it. All your brain can compute is tummy. Steve’s tummy. “My head still, and my stomach. I feel like I haven’t slept in four years.”

His words snap you out of your reverie. “Four years? That’s incredible. When’s the last time you ate something?”

Steve stares at you for a moment, though it looks as if there isn’t a single thought behind his eyes. “Yesterday…morning. I think. Yeah, I had a banana.”

You stare back, rather appalled at his statement. “Steve.”

“Hm?”

“All you’ve had to eat in the past twenty four hours is a banana?”

“Yep.”

“Jesus christ. Get your ass up and come with me.”

Steve doesn’t move. Rather he watches you move, right out the door and towards the top of the stairs. You pause and turn around, crossing your arms.

He huffs. And then he slides down the side of the bed like a child before crawling up and following you to the kitchen.

Over the course of the next few hours, you manage to get Steve to eat, shower, and go for a short walk, weather permitting and all. He’s looking astronomically better than he did last night.

Steve sits opposite you on the couch, his socked feet in your lap. “What do you think my deal is?”

You rub your hand over his calf. “I think you just had a little bug. Or maybe you let yourself get too stressed out and your body couldn’t take it.”

He blinks. “Is that…that's not a thing? Is it?”

“When’s the last time you gave yourself a fuckin’ break, Steve? When you just took a day for yourself rather than worrying about who needs to go where, or if you’ll have to cover a shift? You have to take care of yourself, or this is the kind of shit that happens.”

“Being overwhelmed about your parents, not eating, worrying about that application, all of that is fucking with you. That headache was probably a stress headache. They’re killer. I want you to be healthy and comfortable, Steve.”

You exhale, and close your eyes. When you open them, Steve has sat up, scooting towards you on your end of the couch.

He might still be tired, but he can’t believe this. He can’t believe you. No one has ever worried for him in this way.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” you ask.

He barely even registers your words, too busy memorizing every line on your face. You look so fucking beautiful. It almost makes him angry.

“I’m thinkin’ about how bad I want to kiss you.”

Your face starts to burn. You shove his shoulder. He looks at the place where you’d pushed, quirking a brow, but grinning nonetheless.

“What?”

“Steve, you can’t say shit like that.”

“How come?”

“Because we’re friends.”

“Best friends.”

“Well yeah, but best friends don’t say that to one another.”

His grin widens. He looks more awake than he has this entire time.

“Oh, but you haven’t said it.”

You blink. “Huh?”

Steve gets his voice up that little bit higher, doing a cheap imitation of you. “‘Best friends don’t say that to one another.’ Now, correct me if I’m wrong, but that implies you want a kiss too, doesn’t it?”

You drag your hands down your face and flop back against the arm of the couch.

“So you gonna say it, or what?” He’s shifted, and you can feel him hovering over you, but you refuse to move your hands.

“Of course I’m thinking about kissing you, Steve.” You suck in a breath and open your eyes, locking with his own. “But you’ve got cooties.”

Steve rolls his eyes before he backs up and yanks on your ankle so that you’re flat against the couch.

“You did not just lecture me about self-care just to tell me I have cooties. I didn’t even have a fever.”

“I didn’t even have a fever,” you mock, lowering your voice in what is quite possibly the worst impression of him you could do.

He’s quick about it. Almost stealthy, not that you’d ever boost his ego by telling him so. But his fingers are reaching for your sides, the tips dancing over your shirt, that tiny sliver of hip showing where it’s ridden up.

Steve is practically drunk off of your laugh. It’s the sweetest sound he’s ever heard, and when he goes for your neck, when you tilt your head and trap his fingers between your cheek and shoulder, he thinks he could die.

You and your laugh. The fact that you drove over at one in the fucking morning, without even thinking about it, just because you care. That you stayed the night, listened to his pitiful thoughts, took care of him…it’s too much.

Never in his life did he think he’d find someone like you. Someone who makes him feel like he matters. You’d made him realize how smart he is, how capable. That he could do things for himself and not just to please his dickhead father.

You have made him whole.

He lets up when you start breathing extra heavily, only to tickle the underside of your foot before he quits, just to piss you off. You kick him in the side.

“I think a kiss from my very favorite person might be the best form of self-care there is, honey.”

You sit up. “Wow. King Steve really never died.” He raises his hands like he might tickle you again, but you catch them before he can do any damage. “Okay, sorry!”

Before he can register it, you’ve leaned in and pressed your lips to his. When he does realize, he lets out a surprised hum, and you can feel that smartass smirk forming on his face.

When you pull away, he whines.

“All better?”

Steve falls back against the couch, pulling you with him just to get that laugh out of you again.

“I’m healed.”

————

please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33

#savannah’s fics #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x female reader #steve harrington comfort #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington sick fic #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington fluff

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yoongifis · 1 year

Text

💌 “fxck a fxckboy!" | myg

where you sort of hooked up with one of the school’s biggest fuckboys but end up leaving him hanging and never contacting him because…well…why not? somehow the universe brought you two together and now you’re left with dealing with him because he apparently caught feelings for you.

; pairing: flirty/smartass!y/n x fuckboy!yoongi

; warnings: ass grabbing, ass slapping, vaginal penetration, unprotected sex, fingering, creampie, cock warming, blowjobs, breastplay, mention of sex toys, mention of masturbation, usage of mature words, some dirty talk, jealous yoongi (my fave hehe)

; genre: smut (18+), pwp (?)

; wc: 11k+ (the most i’ve ever written 🤯 sorry hehe)

a/n: fuck fuckboys or fuck a fuckboy? 🫣 honestly really wanted to write something for that pic of yoongi (jeeeesus😮‍💨) and thought “yeah i think he should be a fuckboy or something” lol…also peep the namaikizakari pic heheh—one of my favorite mangas!! 🫶

He led you to his bedroom in his currently empty but shared apartment he lived in, your soft hand in his.

The two of you had just gone back from the bar, the two of you slightly tipsy—more him than you. You didn’t drink much compared to him. You knew your limits and you made sure that you stayed away from being severely, passed out drunk. To keep things short, you both had shitty days and you both just wanted to let it all out with a little one night stand—no biggy, right? But who would've thought that you would be doing a quick fuck with the one an only Min Yoongi, a fairly popular boy at your university who’s only interested in just fucking without any feelings. You could probably answer your statement, actually: the man is just down to fuck anyone he sees. You’ve heard it everywhere—all the little chitter chatter about him that goes around the school—he’s a man who doesn’t want to settle with one person. He wants a quick fuck, but never twice with the same person, and afterwards he won’t do anything else but sleep and ignore you as you leave.

He guides you over to his bed, making you sit on the edge while he goes ahead and locks the door from behind.

It’s not everyday where you get this sort of chance, so before you gave into coming to his place to hook up with him, you decided that you wanted to toy with him a bit—have him remember who you are.

He walks slowly over to you, scanning your body up and down as he licks his dry lips.

“Mm, so what’s your plan?” You hum, looking up at the tall man who stood in front of you. He’s bringing up a hand to twirl the loose strand of your long hair around his finger.

He smirks, removing his finger from your hair and taking his thumb and index finger to hold your chin.

“I figured it was kind of obvious with what’s going on, no?”

You snort at his remark, gently grabbing his arm by the wrist to pull his hand away from yours.

“I’m well aware of the game you play, Min, and obviously I’m completely up for it. But how about we change it up a little—let me take control this time?” You bat your long eyelashes at him, giving him a sweet and innocent look on your face. You release your grip around him, brushing your fingers up and down his forearm before placing your hands back in your lap.

Yoongi scoffs with a smile on his face, amused with your offer.

“Sure, princess. But if it gets bad, I’m gonna take over.”

You place a hand on his stomach, gently pushing down on him to get him to move back, which he does. You stand up in front of him, spin the two of you around and push him over again to make him sit on the edge of the bed.

“Alright,” you hum, now looking down at him.

His hands instinctively reach out to you to caress your curves, but you’re quick to give him light slaps to his hands to prevent him from doing so.

“We’ll go over some rules—one of them being no touching unless I say so. Two, I don’t like to kiss on the lips if I’m just doing a one night stand—.”

“—Pfft,” he cuts you off, “that’s stupid. But you’re willing to have sex?”

“I think kisses are more intimate and they deserve to be used in a place where feelings are there.”

He thinks to himself for a second, quietly considering your comment.

“I guess you can think that way, princess.”

You roll your eyes at him, removing your black leather blazer to reveal the little black cropped tank top and your short black miniskirt a little better.

God, he was drooling over you. Every curve of you looked absolutely delicious—he had to touch you but, of course, he wasn’t allowed to. He was even able to see your hardened and pierced tits through your shirt, which made him chuckle a bit. He was too excited to see them.

“No bra? Is that all for me?” He grins, licking his lips again.

You lean over, your face coming closer to his as you ignore his words. He was ready for you to just plant one on him, so he instinctively closed his eyes. You place your head on the side of his, lightly giggling at him.

“Cute,” you mumbled near his ear, making him immediately open his eyes, all embarrassed. Your hand slides into the front pocket of his button up shirt, taking out a large handkerchief. You pull away, looking back at him with a cheeky smile. “I was surprised to see that you had one of these in your pocket. It’ll be handy for today.”

Yoongi raises his eyebrow at you, unable to put one and one together.

“Last rule is that you’ll be blind folded until I say so. If any rules are broken, I’ll stop and leave.”

“That’s bullshit.”

“Should I just get going now?”

His dark eyes scan you up and down again, undressing you in his mind. You stood there in your all black outfit, playing with the long handkerchief by loosely wrapping it around your hands. You looked heavenly, it was screwing up his thoughts.

“Fuck,” he swears under his breath.

Something in him was also telling him to give this a try—see if he’s into it or not. It wouldn’t hurt to try, would it?

“I’ll play along with your little game, princess.”

“Great,” you hum with a smile on your face.

—

It didn’t end the way the two of you (possibly him more) wanted it to be.

Spoiler alert—you ended up leaving him while you were in the middle of teasing him, your hand wrapped around his long and hard cock, making him desperate for more of your touch.

Of course he was absolutely furious with you leaving him without having the chance to get to his release or even fuck you. You didn’t care, though. It wasn’t your problem anyways. He broke the rules and you left just like that—exactly what you told him before you started.

You kind of already expected Yoongi to slip and end the night short. All he wants is his dick to be wet—and you didn’t want to fall into that trick of his. Instead, he fell right into your trap—all left with blue balls and not a single taste of you.

Now, it’s not like you hate him or anything. It’s more like you wanted to teach him a little lesson. This whole thing was never planned ahead, of course—you just got lucky enough to come in contact with him on one of those rare days where you actually decided to go out for a drink.

You internally laugh to yourself, barely focusing on what you’re doing behind your laptop.

“Y/n, how about we take this get together to my apartment? I can feel myself trying to fall asleep. I’ve been awake since 5 in the morning.”

You look over to the boy, watching him rub his eyes with the back of his hands and then stretching afterwards.

You chuckle at him, agreeing with his idea before the two of you start packing up and heading out of your school library.

The universe is actually pretty crazy. Or perhaps you’re just really lucky because who would’ve thought you’d be here again in the same apartment that you were in a while ago. However this time you’re here with Yoongi’s roommate, Hoseok—your classmate that you’ll be working on a project with.

You’re carefully scanning the place again as you enter, not being able to recognize a thing in the living room since you barely had a chance to look around the last time.

“Don’t worry, no one’s here right now. I think my roommate is out right now.”

You nod your head, somewhat hoping that you get to leave before Yoongi makes it back home.

“Make yourself at home, y/n! Don’t be shy! Grab some water if you want. I’m just going to use the restroom real quick!” He doesn’t let you answer as he scurries over down the hallway. Dropping your stuff down on the couch, you make your way towards the kitchen.

You were opening each cabinet one by one, in search of some cups. Honestly, you couldn’t care less if they were glass, plastic, or paper at this point since you still weren’t able to find any. Hoseok wasn’t that descriptive—matter of fact he didn’t really tell you—where things were, so it just looks like you're ransacking his kitchen.

Squatting down, you look in the cabinets of their kitchen island. Rummaging through things until you find the stupid cups.

“Hoseok, what’re you makin’?”

You froze in your stance, the two glass cups in your hands. The voice you heard was definitely not your classmate’s. It was lower, a bit gravelly as if they just woke up. This was most definitely the one and only Min Yoongi. Of course, the universe made you lucky enough to meet him again.

You muster up the courage, mentally slapping yourself to gain some more confidence to face him again. You slowly stood up, placing the glass cups on the countertop.

He looks up at you with a raised eyebrow, rubbing his eyes again to make sure that he wasn’t seeing things.

A lopsided smile grows on his face, as he moves closer to rest his arms on the counter.

“Back for a redo? Did you miss me or something?”

You snort, amused with the words that came out of his mouth. He definitely didn’t learn anything with your so-called “experiment”. Since you were already in this position, you made a quick decision to keep toying with him until he’s at his limit.

“Of course not. I’m here for your roommate.”

His sleepy eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets, his neck slightly extended forward.

“My roommate? Hoseok? You’re about to go fuck that guy right now?”

Before you could answer, you were immediately cut off. The two of your heads both looking over to see the owner of that voice.

“Ah! Hyung! You’re home?!” He’s looking at Yoongi, to you, and back to the boy as he mentally took in the situation. “I see you’re already introducing yourself to y/n! She’s in my biology class. I’ve got a project to do with her.”

You couldn’t tell if the air around you guys was awkward, uncomfortable, or very tense. Honestly, it didn’t bother you at all that you were seeing Yoongi again for a second time—more like it just caught you off guard that you were actually lucky to see him for a second time.

Yoongi takes a glance over at you again and then back at Hoseok, silently observing the two of you.

“Yeah,” he pauses, “I skipped class ‘cuz I wanted to sleep.”

The other boy nods to acknowledge his words and the room goes quiet again. You clear your throat to break up the silence and make way to the water dispenser to fill up your cup.

“Are you thirsty Hoseok? I’ll bring some water to the table if you want me to.”

“Ah, no I’m fine,” his voice sounded like it was getting further as he spun around to go sit back down in front of the coffee table.

“I’ll take a cup.” You hear the other boy’s low voice even closer to you than before, so you glance over your shoulder to see him now standing behind you, body leaned against the island of the kitchen.

Turning around with one full glass in your hand and the other on the counter, you shoot him a quick smile and ignore his request before you walk past him to head over to Hoseok. He scoffs, his eyes following your body and then his whole body turns to watch you sit your pretty ass right next to Hoseok—all giggly and shit.

Standing behind the kitchen island became his favorite place to be at whenever you came over. He pretends to be on his phone or laptop, clean a little bit, or even cook up a little snack and eat it there. If it’s not already obvious, Yoongi was solely there to see you. (And monitor whatever was going on between you and Hoseok.)

There has been zero progression between the two of you within the past few days and he was growing impatient. The way Hoseok has been having you all to himself was pissing him off. Were you really going to fuck his friend? But why not him? Why’d you have to play games with him and leave him high and dry with no care in the world?

It was also pissing him off that you weren’t all over him like how other girls are with him. I mean—you made it pretty clear to him that you knew what kind of guy he is and how you didn’t really want much to do with him. I guess seeing the attention being only on Hoseok made him a bit…jealous…

..Yeah

…he was jealous…

That’s something he rarely feels.

Hoseok takes another bathroom break which gives Yoongi the chance to steal you away and get the ball going between the two of you. He quickly grabs his math textbook, a piece of paper, and a pencil from his desk in his room and sits right next to you on the couch with the sides of your thighs and arms both touching each other. Your head immediately turns to him, watching his movements with a raised eyebrow. He puts his textbook on top of Hoseok’s, flipping to a random page and points at a problem.

“Teach me how to do this,” Yoongi mumbles, eyes only on you and not whatever he was pointing at.

You look at him, a little thrown off. You glance over at the book and quickly scan the text, trying to see if you could actually help him at all.

“Calculus? You’re in calculus?”

He silently nods his head, patiently waiting for you to do something.

“I’m not really the best at math, but I can tell you what I know and maybe you could try to put things together with your knowledge?” You didn’t even bother to look up at him, pulling the textbook more towards you so that you could read the problem again.

All you did was talk him through the problem and explain what some things are, but none of it managed to stay in his brain when all he was focusing on was your voice. God, he could listen to you for hours.

He was scribbling stuff on his paper, working out the problem as you softly spoke to him.

“Ah, hyung—! You’re working on homework?!”

You immediately stood up from your spot, moving over to the side a bit to give Yoongi some space until you felt a grip around your wrist. You feel him pull you back down, making you sit right next to him with the side of your body touching his.

“You’re fine where you’re sitting,” he says in a low voice, head leaning closer to your ear.

Hoseok observes the two of you, getting a gist of what’s going on. He doesn’t sit down next to you like you thought he would, instead he starts walking away again, leaving you confused.

“I forgot—I have to make a phone call real quick.”

“Since when do you make phone calls?” You retort.

“Y/n, I’m a busy man. Don’t worry about it.” His eyes go from you to Yoongi, wiggling his eyebrows at him. You turn to look at Yoongi, watching the way he glares at Hoseok.

Yoongi blankly stared at him, not giving a fuck about whatever Hoseok this or Hoseok that has to do. He turns to look at you again once the other boy is out of the room.

“Could you quit looking at Hoseok like that?”

“Like what?”

“You know already.”

You scoff with a laugh.

“Yoongi, be more specific with me. I can’t read your mind.”

“You give him the prettiest smile while batting those long eyelashes of yours—he’s gonna fall for you and I don’t want that shit to happen.”

The pout in his voice is noticeable, you found it cute.

“Why don’t you want it to happen? Didn’t I tell you I was coming for him next?”

He clenches his jaw, a firm line on his lips. Hearing that just pissed him off even more. Of course he would never want that. He wants you to himself, even though he can’t explain why he wants you so badly.

“You should be going for me. Not Hoseok.”

You force a fake smile on your face, placing a hand on his bicep. You gently rub your hand up and down before letting it sneak up to the back of his neck, pulling him closer to you. Your fingertips play with the ends of his long hair, slightly massaging the back of his head—doing all this just to tease him again.

“Yoongi, I’m not going to be one of your easy picks. You can look for another girl who can fulfill your needs.”

You’re about to remove your hand away from him until he grabs your arm and places it right on top of his shoulder where it rested before.

“I don’t want “another girl”, princess. My eyes are set on you.”

“All you want me to do is to get your dick wet and then you’ll just toss me like every other girl you've hooked up with,” you scoff.

“But if I don’t plan on doing that to you, then what?”

“You want a gold star for finally not thinking like a little fuckboy? Finally being a decent human being?”

He rolls his eyes, annoyed with the fact you were right. He is an asshole and he’s known to be that type of asshole. But he wasn’t going to be that asshole to you.

“Yoongi, how the hell am I supposed to trust you?”

“I can prove to you that I’m serious about you.”

“How can you be so serious about me when all we’ve done is hang out with each other once for a semi-hookup?”

“I guess you can call it love at first sight, doll,” he’s lazily smirking at you, a sight that makes you feel a little tingly inside.

You scoff again, hiding the little smile you had on your face from his stupid silly words. “Yoongi, you probably say that to every other girl just to convince them to hook up with you.”

“Alright, since you think all I do is think about sex, let's start by making it not about sex. I’ll go two weeks without masturbating or fucking any other women—which should be easy because all I want is you.”

There he goes again. He’s way too good at poking at your heart, making you feel something. God, you felt stupid but you can’t help but react that way.

You slowly move your arm off of his shoulder and slide your hand over to his chest, taking your index finger to play with the string of his hoodie by wrapping it around your finger.

“Make it four weeks.”

He’s taking one of his hands and gently sliding it over the side of your waist, caressing that area by moving his hand up and down.

“When did that hook up between us happen again?”

You furrow your eyebrows, thrown off by him asking this at this moment.

“2 weeks ago, I think?”

He’s smiling, leaning his head over to the side of yours, his breath tickling your ear.

“I’ve got two weeks left then, princess. You can ask Hoseok to confirm it if you want.”

You stare at him with a puzzled face when he pulls away from you.

“Hoseok knows when you jerk off?”

He lets out a low laugh, one of those throaty ones. You watch him as he smiles big with his teeth and gums all out.

“No—,” he chuckles, “he doesn’t. He knows that I haven’t been with anyone since I met up with you. I can confirm for myself that I haven’t jerked off at all these past 2 weeks—if that’s what you’re more worried about.”

You gently shove him away by the shoulders, annoyed by his teasing. But his grip around your waist tightens, and he’s pulling you closer to him.

“Alright, go ahead then.”

“Atta’, girl,” he hums, “but know that if I want something, I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure that I get it.”

To be completely honest (and kind of stupid to admit), you didn’t expect him to last this long. Hoseok knew about the deal that was going on and he always brought up the fact that Yoongi hadn’t been going out or seeing anyone whenever he saw you in class—kinda funny, right? He only had a day left and you were sure you were going to lose.

Now, instead of accepting defeat, wouldn’t it be better to spice things up before you could come to terms with losing?

You were chuckling to yourself as you took pictures of yourself as you laid in bed. You pressed your arms together, making your breasts look larger in your plain black bra. You couldn’t leave out the matching black, lacey thong you had on too, so you took a couple snaps from the front and the back. Soon enough, you were already pressing the red button on your phone screen. Legs spread out as you teased yourself on the outside of your panties, creating a little wet spot.

Sent.

You take another clip of you massaging your breasts, slowly pulling down on your bra to reveal your hardened and pierced nipples. You gently flick your nipples with the tips of your finger nails, grazing against them ever so lightly, making sure your video clearly captures your little whimpers.

Sent.

From your bedside drawer, you took out your pink dildo, recording another clip of you sucking on just the tip of it before bringing your head lower to lick a stripe from the bottom and back to the tip. Holding the toy by the base, you release the tip with a little ‘pop’, bringing that hand to slowly move it up and down.

Sent.

You knew he had to fold. He just had to do something. I mean, not to be so full of yourself or whatever, how else would someone react if they received explicit videos and pictures from a person they liked?

This just had to be one of your greatest plans. You were sure that Yoongi was going to lose. He just has to text you any second now—or even tomorrow morning. With that being said, you were able to sleep comfortably for the night.

The uneasiness of Yoongi not texting you started to grow when you saw no new messages on your phone when you woke up. It continued to grow little by little as hours passed by—still no response coming from him.

You eventually gave up on the thought of you almost winning once the clock struck about 11:40 pm.

It was most definitely over for you.

You just had to accept it.

Maybe you might’ve gone a little overboard—or a little too confident in yourself. You really thought he would take the bait.

“Hoseok, give me a second. I think someone’s at my door.” You glance up from your paper to look at him on your propped up phone.

“At this time?” He asks, concerned for your safety.

You shrug, not really giving the situation a thought.

“I’ll keep you on facetime but I’m muting you. Just keep an eye out for me if I don’t show up on your screen after more than 5 minutes.” You’re already reaching over to tap on the mute button and getting up from the floor before you stride towards your door.

You figured that it was probably your neighbors or some student from school. The apartment complex was primarily made up of students, so you were sure it had to be a student knocking. Honestly, you were used to the noisiness coming from outside, the occasional parties, or the ding-dong ditching that a little knock on the door at this time doesn’t really bother you.

You were met with another view—in fact, an insanely rare view—that you would have never expected. Standing face to face in front of you—with your oversized big shirt and skimpy panties underneath—was the one and only Min Yoongi.

He looks you up and down, a smug look appearing on his face. You look up at him with a raised eyebrow, slightly scoffing before turning around to your phone to unmute it and leaving the boy at the door.

“Never mind, Hoseok, it was nobody. Just give me a minute.”

You immediately muted your phone again once you heard the door being locked and a little chuckle.

“A nobody—hm,” he hums.

He sticks his hands in his pockets, slowly making his way towards you as he takes a couple glances around your apartment. He stops and stands in front of you, leaving a couple feet in between.

“Yoongi, what the hell are you doing here?

“The photos and videos you sent me.”

You smiled, but quickly dropped it. A bit excited to hear him finally bring up the topic you’ve been waiting for.

“Oh? Shit—I must’ve sent them to you by accident. They were for someone else.” You watch as one of his eyebrows furrowed together, clearly concerned with what you just said.

“Who?”

“Hoseok, of course.” You knew by saying this he would go mad—and that’s what you wanted to see. You wanted to push his buttons, make him frustrated with you, and see what he would do.

“And the outfit? You’re wearing that while you’re on facetime with Hoseok?”

“Well, yeah—wouldn’t it be easier to give him a little show this way?” You say teasingly.

After that being said, his whole demeanor shifts. He’s clenching his teeth, causing his sharp jawline to be more defined. His eyes on you felt heavier, as if they were burning holes into your own. His flirty, teasing self that he usually had on him was gone. The change slightly scared you, but you didn’t want to show him that.

He was mad.

He never wanted to hear that come out of your mouth ever again.

“Guess so?” Is all he says.

“Did you like the pictures at least?”

“Did I like the pictures?” He repeats, his tone strong.

He scoffs again, chuckling right afterwards.

The two of you turn to your phone when you both hear Hoseok calling out for you. Taking the phone in your hand this time, you unmute to quickly apologize to him. Before you know it, a pair of arms are wrapped around your waist and a head is resting on your shoulder.

“She’s busy, call later,” Yoongi mumbles, glancing over at your phone. You were too stunned to say something, his actions completely catching you off guard.

“Hyung?! There you fucking are! You could’ve told me where you were heading to before running out like that—.” Yoongi quickly hits the ‘end’ button before the other boy could keep going. He’s taking your phone away from your hands and tosses it over somewhere on your couch before his arms find your waist again.

“I didn’t like the answer I heard earlier,” he hums.

“Which one?”

You let out a little yelp when you feel him gently sink his teeth on your shoulder.

“Don’t play stupid with me, doll. You already know.”

“Ah,” you laugh a little awkwardly, “suddenly I do remember what you’re talking about.”

He snorts, rolling his eyes at your comment with a smile on his face.

“Were they really for him? Because I feel like they couldn’t be.”

“Why couldn’t they?”

It’s quiet for a second as he thinks to himself.

“You drive me crazy, you know that? You and that little attitude of yours—just makes me want to fuck it right out of you.”

He lowers his head closer to your neck. His lips lightly brush against your skin before he slowly kisses a line down your neck.

“Doubt you could.”

You keep your composure. Internally screaming at yourself that none of this was phasing you.

Because it definitely wasn’t.

Well, it shouldn’t—at least.

“Yeah? Should I try?”

He released an arm from your waist, his hand already creeping up underneath your baggy shirt. The rough pad of his fingers caressing your soft skin.

Butterflies.

It’s all you could feel at this moment.

He’s too smooth at this—that dumb, experienced but fine asshole.

You shouldn’t.

You really shouldn’t.

It was a bad idea—I mean, does this man actually have a drop of interest in you?

You turn around while in his hold, wrapping your arms around his neck. You’re massaging the back of his head with a hand, then play with the ends of his long, black hair. His hands rest on your waist.

“Shouldn’t you be doing this with a girl that you genuinely like?”

He looks at you with a raised eyebrow again, a face filled with disbelief. He scoffs, but a light chuckle comes out of his mouth right afterwards.

“You just really like to rile me up, don’t ya, princess?” He lowly mumbles.

“Yoongi—!” You yelp, holding onto him tighter.

He’s hooking his hands underneath your thighs, lifting you up and carrying you over to lay you on the couch. You remove yourself from him, allowing him to hover himself above you.

“I don’t know how clear you want me to be, but I feel like I made it pretty clear that I’m serious about you.”

“You think that not jerking off or not hooking up with random girls for a whole month is really proof that you’d change just for me?”

“Well, wasn’t that the deal?”

“I mean I accepted it because I felt bad and it just seemed like you really wanted to prove something to me.”

“Yeah—because you won’t believe me that I’m actually into you.”

“This feels like something you’d say to every other girl you hook up with.”

“God—will you quit bringing up other girls?! I couldn’t care any less about them if I have you in front of me.”

Butterflies. It’s the stupid butterflies again.

“Shut up,” you mumble, turning your face away from him to avoid his gaze.

A quick pause of silence. Not enough time to collect your thoughts.

“What? Did I get your heart to skip a beat? Is that why you won’t look at me right now?”

Without saying anything, you shook your head with your head still facing the other way.

“Cute,” he chuckles, his breath hitting your face.

You feel the weight of him above you disappear. His hands were wrapped around your ankles, tugging them towards him as he sat near your feet.

“At least look at me when I eat you out.”

“Shut up,” your face grows a shade of red out of embarrassment.

He couldn’t help but keep the teasing smile on his face. Yoongi positions himself that allows him to place your legs over his shoulders. He slowly lifts up your t-shirt that’s covering your lower half, leaning more towards your core.

“Such pretty panties,” he hums, “just for me to see, huh?”

“No,” you say without glancing down at him, “it was for Hoseok.”

With no warning, Yoongi’s taking his thumb to rub circles on the outside of your panties and against your clit. You slightly gasp in surprise, mumbling a “Yoongi, wait” under your breath.

“Of course you would say that. You really make me want to fuck that brattiness out of you. Turn you into a girl who wants just me—my girl.”

Lowering his thumb to where your hole would be at, he brings his face to your covered core and tries to bite on your covered nub but instead gently grazes his teeth against it. He takes his tongue and flattens it against it, making the fabric even wetter than before.

You gasp, immediately covering your mouth with your hands to stop yourself. You felt a shiver run down your spine, shots of electricity on the places he touches.

“Hmm, was that little gasp from me or him?”

You already knew you wanted to keep messing with him, make him mad just for fun. But before you could answer he’s already pulling your baby pink skimpy panties to the side, licking a long stripe from your hole to your most sensitive part.

“Ah—Yoongi!” You yelp with an airy voice.

He’s pulling back, chuckling, very happy with your answer.

“So sweet, princess. I think I’m gonna be addicted.”

The boy goes back to your heat, mouth going straight to your clit. He’s sucking on it, swirling his tongue around it as he does so. You remove your hands from your face, quickly bringing them to his hair. Your fingers get tangled in his long, black hair as you tug on him to bring his face closer to you. Yoongi laps up your essence that flows out of you, coating a little bit of his chin. You’re whining as he sloppily kisses your clit, feeling how wet you are from the mixture of his saliva and your own wetness.

You yelp again once you feel Yoongi’s thick, long finger slowly enter your hole.

“It just slid right in. Fuck—you’re so wet, baby.”

He hums against your clit, thrusting his finger slowly in and out of you, causing you to groan in pleasure.

“Yoon..gi—please—,” you whine with a choke, already feeling yourself go blank.

He’s already adding a second finger, curling it upwards and picking up the pace as he thrusts them into you.

“Fuck—pleasepleaseplease!!”

You didn’t know what exactly you were begging for, and neither did he. But it got him chuckling when he heard your little pleads.

“Cum on my face, baby, and I’ll give you whatever you’re asking for.” He places a couple kisses onto your inner thigh before he dives back into your pussy.

Your eyes are rolling back, your whole body feeling warm. Yoongi doesn’t waste any time on sucking on your little sensitive bead. Your body speaks for itself as loud squelching noises and your whimpers fill the room. He can feel you tightening around him already, a sign he knew that you were about to come undone. He’s plunging his fingers into you, making sure you’re fully taking them in. The slurping sounds and grunts he makes get louder, but not as loud as you were.

“Ah! Yoongi—!” You cried, digging the heel of your foot to his back, which allowed you to raise your hips up. He’s immediately pushing you back down, his free hand wrapped around your thigh in an attempt to stop you from moving.

“Cum,” he says, humming into your core, then immediately flicking his tongue against your clit.

Something in you snaps—it was as if he was able to control you, your legs start to shake as you finally cum on his fingers. He helps you ride out your high, slowly thrusting his fingers into you and moving his face to your inner thigh to pepper kisses onto it again.

“Good girl,” he coos, removing his fingers and lifting your legs off his shoulders to set them on either side of him. He watches as your breathing evens and your eyes flutter open. He’s rubbing circles with his thumb on top of your thigh as he holds onto them, enjoying this small moment.

“Use me like how you used that toy of yours in the photos and videos you sent me. Show me how you play with yourself, baby.”

“You’re too bossy.”

“But you like it,” he’s smiling, sitting against the armrest of the couch on the other side.

You sit up, closing your legs and tugging your t-shirt to show some modesty.

“Mmm, I do. But I think you’d like it even more if I was the bossy one.”

“Alright,” he chuckles, “go ahead and be bossy, princess.”

You carefully get up with wobbly legs and stand in front of the boy, who immediately turns his whole body so that he’s seated properly. You get on your knees and then sit on your heels, looking up at him with innocent yet slightly fucked-out eyes.

“I won’t be blindfolding you this time. But there’s still going to be no touching, so put your hands under your thighs and keep them there.”

He’s rolling his eyes with a small scoff.

“Not this shit again. You’ll leave me like last time.”

You laugh, giving him a gentle slap to his thigh.

“So do you not want me to do what I did in that video I sent you?”

He’s already shoving his hands under his thighs, impatiently waiting for you to start.

You start to pull down his sweatpants, along with his boxers and he helps you by lifting his bottom up. There you’re met with his hardened cock, sprung up and against his lower torso. Your hand immediately goes to the base of it to gently squeeze him, your fingertips barely able to touch. You glance up at him, carefully watching his strained face that’s asking for more.

You move your head closer, leaning in more a bit to gather up the saliva in your mouth and spit onto the tip of his cock. You slide your hand up and down to spread it around. Finally, you take your tongue and press it against his slit, your touch instantly making him hiss. Wrapping your lips around just the tip, you suck on it and swirl your tongue around the shape of it. He was on the thicker side, but with a decent length. You were unsure if you would be able to actually fit him in your mouth (or even in you), but nevertheless you were determined to make him cum even if you had to completely stuff him in your mouth.

Slowly, you push your head down on him. You begin to bob your head, taking him in little by little. Having him barely halfway in your mouth already verified that he was in fact pretty big. You used your hand to wrap around whatever else you couldn’t reach, pumping his cock at the same speed as your mouth.

“Fuck—,” he hissed, “don’t push yourself too hard, baby.” His teeth were clenched together, doing what he could to stop himself from groaning.

This was what he has been waiting for: to be intimate with you. It’s what he was anticipating at the beginning, but he feels that the wait for it was making this whole experience feel too damn good.

Yoongi’s throwing his head back, listening to the most vulgar sounds coming from you as you choked and gagged on his cock. He’s looking back at you, watching the way you took him in with tears running down your face.

What a fucking sight.

“Look at me, baby. Eyes on me,” his voice gruff.

You follow his directions, looking at him through your eyelashes and eyes all watery. Your eyebrows furrowed as you push yourself down on him more, a trail of saliva leaking out of the corner of your mouth.

“So pretty,” he grunts. The only thing that he was missing right now was his hands being all over you, but he wasn’t willing to take the risk and make things turn around like how it did the first time.

You pull away with a little ‘pop’, giving him a sweet and innocent smile before using the tip of your tongue to trace the long and bulging vein underneath his cock. Once you make it back to the tip, you stick out your flattened tongue. With your hand still on the base, you move his cock against your tongue, moving it side to side and then roughly hitting your tongue with just the tip before taking him in again. You hum around him and swirl your tongue around him as you quickly bob your head.

He lets out another strained groan, followed by a hushed mumble of your name. You wanted to get him to cum, to make himself lose control just like how he did earlier. However, giving him head and seeing the way he was right now was turning you on. You could feel yourself throbbing, selfishly wanting a little more. Yoongi, on the other hand, didn’t want to finish off in your mouth. He wanted to be inside you; he had to finish inside you.

“Fuck. I can’t do this.”

Yoongi quickly takes out his hands from under his thighs and removes you from him, halting your movements. Quickly, he stuffs himself back into his sweatpants. He’s lifting you up again, his arms under your thighs and his body pressed against yours. You hold him tightly around his neck, clinging on to him like you were a koala.

“Room. Tell me now.”

“The first door down the hallway on the right.”

He’s speeding his way down there, sitting down on the bed first while he is holding on to you. Yoongi lays back, scooting himself upwards so that his head is more on your pillows. He positions you to sit on his crotch, but you move back onto his thighs to prevent yourself from grinding on his hard-on.

He’s caressing your sides as the two of you look at each other, eyes filled with lust.

“Let me see you ride me like how you do with your dildo. I won’t touch you this time, I swear,” he’s putting his hands behind his head, “please, baby.”

He was desperate. Insanely desperate.

And he looks cute to you when he’s desperate. You couldn’t blame him for feeling that way because you were feeling the same. Without saying anything, you lift up your hips and hover above his thighs. You pull his hard cock back out of his pants, holding it up as you position yourself above it.

“Wait—condoms—damn it!” He mumbles, “I didn’t bring any because I wasn’t really expecting to go far.”

You watch him groan in frustration, clearly mad at himself.

“Fuck–sorry. I’ll go buy some. I think I saw a gas station down the road? Just–fuck–please don’t lock me out, y/n.”

He finally looks at you, eyes met. He looked desperate. Absolutely desperate.

You’re biting your bottom lip out of habit, quietly thinking to yourself. You let go of his cock, allowing it to hit his lower stomach. You place yourself on top of it, your wet, bare folds against the length of his cock.

“Am I going to be the last person you’ll ever be fucking?”

You move your hips, gently grinding yourself against him to rile him up a bit, causing him to swear under his breath.

“You’re the only girl I ever want to fuck.”

You scoff, rolling your eyes with a smile on your face.

“I better be.”

He’s chuckling now, a big lopsided smile plastered on him, and a little less tense.

You’re raising your hips again, grabbing his thick cock and placing it under you. With your panties pushed to the side, you drag the tip of his cock against your wet folds, causing you to clench around nothing. The excitement and nervousness was causing you to shake a little, and he was immediately able to notice it. He grabs you by your wrist, your eyes follow along his arm and fall onto his face.

“If you don’t want to do this, don’t force yourself, okay?” He’s looking at you, his eyes soft and concerned for you. A whole different side to him.

You smile at him, leaning over to place a kiss on his lips—completely forgetting your meaning behind kisses and catching him off guard.

“I want this as much as you do.”

He’s looking at you, nodding his head with a dazed look, questioning his whole existence.

Did this mean…? Or was it an accident?

He still shouldn’t try to initiate another kiss from you—what if you just leave him again?

…Right?

Before he could get his thoughts together, he was already feeling your pussy wrap around the top portion of his cock. You’re letting out a whine as you slowly ease yourself down on him, just like you would with your toy. Yoongi hisses at you tightly squeezing onto him—god it was making him go insane.

“Y-yoongi,” you gasp, “t-too bi-g!”

You stay still on top of him, squeezing onto him uncontrollably as you wait for yourself to get used to him. Having him inside you definitely confirmed he was on the thicker side; it immediately had you rolling your eyes back at how full it made you feel. Although you weren’t moving, you were a little noisy—little mumbles of swears and his name or airy whines. It turned him on a lot, and it took a lot in him to not take over right now.

“Good girl,” he grunts, eyes focused on the look at your face. “You take me in so good.”

Your face felt hot, your mind was fogging up. The feeling of being stuffed was too good, but you were wanting something more. Your hips, as if you had no control over them, started to grind against Yoongi’s. You lean back, holding yourself up by placing your hands on top of Yoongi’s thighs. Your mouth hangs open as your hips move in circles.

“So pretty, baby,” he coos.

His eyes couldn’t leave at the view of your pussy sucking him in. It’s like you didn’t want him to ever remove himself from you. He takes his hand to move the front part of your panties to the side, exposing more of you. He brings his thumb to his tongue and gives it a little lick before bringing it back to you. He presses his thumb against your swollen and sensitive clit, drawing circles around it.

“Yoongi!” You squealed, your hips stuttering.

“Keep moving baby, you can do it.”

You’re begging for who knows what and mumbling his name in between. The sweetest moans and whimpers escaping your mouth was all music to his ears. He could listen to this all day.

The sight of you nearly losing yourself from his cock, how noisy you were from just barely grinding on him—Yoongi loved it all.

Fuck, he really loved it all.

He craved for more, though. This wasn’t enough.

“God, I can’t hold back. I’ve got to kiss you.”

He’s extending his arm out to you, placing his large hand behind your neck, pulling you closer to him. You press your body against him as you lay on top of him. Your lips immediately find his. He’s kissing you with hesitation, afraid of you pulling back and ending it all. But your arms travel to its way to wrap around his neck, holding him close to you. It gave him the sense that you were okay with this. Both of his hands slither to the sides of your ass, gripping onto them as he spreads them apart and slaps your ass with a loud smack. His hands end up resting on the top of your ass, guiding you up and down as you bounced on his cock.

You’re groaning in pleasure, head going blank. He was kissing you as if he wanted to make sure he memorized every curve of your lip, the way your tongue felt as it was trying to fight for dominance with his, and how it felt too good to suck on your tongue to get a moan out of you.

He’s already pulling away, but your body didn’t want him to stop.

“Yoongi—,” you whimper with a pout on your lips, eyes glassy, “—more please.”

“More what, baby?”

“Just kiss me again, please–,” you whine.

He thought he was going absolutely insane.

Just those few words made his chest feel so heavy.

While keeping one hand on your ass, he takes the other and brings it to the back of your head, crashing your lips against each other. You keep yourself there, his hand moving back to your ass to help you move down on him as his hips continue to thrust upwards into you.

You’re moaning loud. Way too loud. And all he could do was swallow your moans—tongue exploring all over the inside of your mouth— or press his lips hard against yours. You part away from his lips, burying your face against the crevice of his neck.

“Yoongi—ah-,” you squeal, “fuck, please—!”

He’s chuckling at the way you weren’t making sense, mumbling anything that you could even spit out. It was cute—he was making you go dumb in the brain.

“You’re doing so good, baby—fuck,” his hold on your ass tightens, as he’s thrusting into you even harder.

He could feel your movements slowing, getting tired. It came to the point where you held your hips high while hovering over him, letting him thrust upwards as you’re leaning over and moaning into his neck.

With a couple more thrusts, he’s easily sliding out of you.

“Yoongiii—,” you whined, but he ignores it. Instead he’s sitting you two up, standing up and holding you up with his hands under your bottom, turning around and laying you on the bed this time. He pulls you down closer to the edge of the bed by your legs. You’re slowly pressing your legs together, missing him being in between you.

“Don’t leave,” you mumble softly with a pout on your lips. Your eyes glistening yet were filled with lust.

Yoongi’s eyes soften as he looks at you with adoration. He could feel his heart become fuller. And the urge to wrap his arms around you just to squeeze you tight become stronger.

Fuck—call him crazy because he must be really in love with you.

He had to make you his—it just felt right to have you.

He’s moving your legs to the side, allowing him to lean over and peck a soft kiss on your lips.

“I would never.”

Yoongi stands up straight, removing his hoodie and t-shirt to reveal his toned torso. He then sheds off his sweatpants and boxers, standing completely naked in front of you.

He’s tugging onto your panties, helping you remove them and tossing them somewhere in your room.

“This—,” he starts to push up your baggy shirt, “—off.”

You lift your arms and head up as he helps you get the shirt off of you, but your arms immediately fall on top of your breasts, covering them up.

His eyes roam around your body, taking mental photos for him to think about later.

“Don’t hide, baby,” he hums, taking his hands to pull your legs apart, exposing the lower part of your body. His hands go for yours, removing them from your breasts and pinning your hands above your head.

“Yoongi—!” You squeal.

“God, I’ve been waiting for these especially.”

He’s staring too hard at your perky, soft tits. A silver metal bar with two balls at the ends of it pierced right through both of your nipples. He knew you had them; he saw them right through your top the first time he met you. He just wanted to see it all underneath and in-person. Fuck, you were sexy. Too fucking sexy. Just looking at you makes him way too goddamn hard—he could probably just cum just like that. Even earlier with just your oversized t-shirt and your hair down, you were just as sexy.

He keeps one hand around your wrists and takes his free hand to your left breast, gently massaging it with your nipples in between his index and middle finger. He leans down to encase your hard nipple in his mouth, swirling his wet tongue around it, fiddling with the little piercing, before sucking on it.

You let out his name in an airy moan, arching your back instinctively. He releases you and moves his head higher, placing his lips on the soft skin of the upper part of your breasts, sucking and nibbling on it until it turns a nice shade of red.

“My pretty girl,” he’s mumbling against your skin.

He’s leaving a trail of kisses that lead to your other breast, switching hands so that he’s now groping the other breast he was just giving love to. Yoongi flattens his tongue against your nipple, allowing it to graze against it before he's using the tip of his tongue to draw circles around it. It seemed like it wasn’t much, but the sensations you were getting from it was just making you wetter. Your nipples were just so sensitive that your little moans and gasps were inevitable. Soon, he’s marking you up—a couple of love bites scattered around the flesh of your breasts.

“Yoongi—want your cock—please,” you mumble.

Pulling away, he looks at you—helpless and vulnerable underneath him. No bratty attitude or little unnecessary comments. Just you begging—wanting him and just him. It’s a sight he could definitely get used to.

He lets go of your wrists, but you keep them there. He’s grabbing his length, giving it a couple strokes before he runs the tip down your slit to collect your wetness, causing you to shiver.

“Anything for you, princess,”

He’s lining up himself in front of you, the tip slowly starting to sink in.

“Let me know if you want to stop–please. The last thing I want to do is hurt you,” he’s leaning over, head positioned next to your ear.

You nod your head, not trusting your mouth as he’s slowly sinking in. You’re scrunching your face, wincing a bit from still not being used to his size. He waits again for you to adjust again, making sure you’re doing okay.

He’s spreading your legs apart more, pushing your bent legs down to make more space. His hands rest on your waist, pulling back to slide himself out before going back in slowly. He was treating you as if you were fragile, his thrusts more gentle than how he was earlier. Despite how vocal you are with your little whimpers, it still wasn’t enough for you.

“Yoongi—more,” your eyes flutter open, “fuck me like I’m your slut.”

Your words threw him off, but it did manage to make him feel something.

He pulls all the way back and rams himself back into you with a hard thrust. You let out a loud moan of his name, eyes rolling back and closed shut. He keeps himself at a steady pace, making sure his thrusts are hard enough to get you to keep babbling nonsense.

“‘Like you’re my slut’, hm?” He’s chuckling, bringing his thumb to your bottom lip, tugging it gently. “Guess I forgot my baby likes being rough,” he starts to push him thumb into your mouth, your lips instantly wrapping around it.

“Suck.” He demands, and you do it shamelessly. Your hands go up to your breasts, cupping them underneath before massaging them.

He’s admiring the way you looked again—stuffed both ways. You’re making a mess around him and his thumb, while you were fondling your marked up tits, and your pussy just can’t help but keep sucking him right back in. Fuck. It’s heavenly.

“You look so pretty, princess. I want to be the only one who gets to see you this way.”

He’s snapping his hips harder, grunting with every move. He’s removing his thumb, but your mouth hangs wide open.

“Yoongi—fuck—ngh—!” You’re whining a lot, chanting his name as you beg for no reason.

“Yeah? Is my pretty slut going to cum?”

He brings his thumb to your clit, applying some pressure onto it before he starts rubbing it in circles. You were feeling lightheaded, vision blurry as tears started to form in your eyes. He thrusts into you as hard as he can, the sounds echoing off the walls.

“—Nnghh—Yoon—gi!” You choked.

He’s hovering over you, his free hand next to your head as it’s holding him up. Your thighs were almost pressed against your chest, sort of folding your body in half. This position allowed him to penetrate you even deeper, hitting you in all the right places.

“God!” He slams himself, beads of sweat dripping down his forehead, “fuck!”

Yoongi quickens his speed with his thumb on your clit, making you clench tightly around him. He knew you were about to come. He’s already memorized your signals from earlier. You were on the brink of doing so, and he was just about at his limit too.

“‘m gonna fill you up with my cum,” he growls into your ear, “sluts like you like that, huh princess?”

“Please—!” You squeak, “want it so bad!”

Fuck—that does it.

He just couldn’t say no to you.

He’s standing up straight, hands back on your waist to hold you steady. If it was even possible, he was drilling into you even harder and faster. Eager to get the two of you to cum. You grip onto his muscular arms, fingernails digging into his skin, arching your back. Your panting becomes louder, but the obscene, wet squelching noises start to drown your moans. The knot inside you was about to come undone, you just couldn’t handle it anymore. With another moan of his name—and a couple other words—, you finally reach your high, cumming on his cock.

Yoongi could’ve sworn you mumbled a little ‘I love you’ as you came undone. Triggering him to not be able to hold it in anymore. He stutters in his movements, taking a couple long thrusts before he releases load, painting the insides of your walls white.

He gives you a couple weak thrusts, wanting to keep his cum deep in you before he removes himself. As he pulls out, he watches the mixture of you both slowly spill out of your abused hole. He’s running to grab a kleenex from on top of your dresser, cleaning up the mess you two have made.

Before he could even ask you if you were okay, you were fast asleep. You just couldn’t help it when your body was just so exhausted.

He’s chuckling at your sleeping figure, finding it cute that you fell asleep right after fucking.

—

Yoongi lifts up the notebook paper up to his face, squinting at the words scribbled onto it.

‘Thanks for the night. Went out for a little, so feel free to leave whenever. I’ll take care of cleaning :)!’

Fuck.

A ‘one-night-stand.’

Yoongi scoffs in disbelief.

He got played by you.

A quick fuck and that was just it.

He’s running his fingers through his dark, disheveled hair, hand moving down to rub his face. He groans into his palm, plain annoyed.

He’s quickly getting up, putting his sweats over his boxers as he searches for his hoodie.

Standing there near the edge of the bed, his eyes scan the room to see it nowhere to be found.

Perhaps you wore it out?

He's smiling to himself, the thought of that happening actually making him feel giddy.

He opts to just wear the shirt he was wearing underneath, dragging his feet across the floor as he heads over to open your bedroom door. It then finally hit him that he had the freedom to roam around your apartment, wait for you to come back home, or make an attempt at figuring out where you might’ve gone.

He entered the awfully quiet living room, your papers still scattered on your coffee table.

He could still smell the faint aroma of coffee that’s lingering in the room, as if someone just recently made a fresh cup of coffee—he knew you still had to be around here or that you had just barely left.

Yoongi’s looking around, checking to see if you’ve taken your keys with you—nope.

But you did leave the door to your balcony open.

Ah-ha…

And there you were.

Outside on the small balcony of your apartment, body against the railing. You were watching the calmness of the morning, or whatever that was out there, with a coffee mug in your hand. He’s walking up to you, admiring how tiny and cute you looked, drowning in his hoodie before pressing his back against yours. He wraps his toned arms around your shoulders. He takes his hand and cups your chin, tilting your head back so that you can see him upside down. Yoongi brings his sleepy face close to you, pressing a firm yet tired kiss against your lips. Your lips immediately reciprocate, feeling his hand that was on your chin slide down to your neck. He pulls away with a low groan—either because of you or that he's tired (probably a mix of both).

You tilt your head forward, looking back at the mellow street.

“Too much creamer,” he mumbles sleepily, licking his lips. He brings his head next to the side of yours, resting it on top of your shoulder. His breath hits against the side of your neck as he exhales.

You chuckle at his comment.

“Did I scare you?”

Yoongi’s quiet for a second, tightening his hold around you. He brushes his lips against the side of your neck, then leaves gentle kisses on the same spot.

“A little…but I am at your apartment, so I would’ve waited for you to come home.”

You’re smiling big.

Damn. He got you. He’s really got you smiling like a whole doofus. Guess you didn’t think this through.

“Ah—,” you groan with a laugh afterwards, bringing up your hands to push him away, “go home already.”

His hold loosens as you push your way free. He’s chuckling too as he watches you walk away all flustered and to the door. He’s quick to catch up with you, closing the door behind him as he enters. You don’t realize that Yoongi was still following you when you felt his arms wrap around your waist again once you set your coffee on the counter.

“There’s enough space for both of us here.”

“What makes you think I’d want you to stay here?”

He hums, resting his chin on top of your head.

“Mmm, weren’t you the one who told me that you loved me first?”

“It was in the heat of the moment.”

“Ah…,” he pauses, “and the kisses you were begging from me?”

“Also in the heat of the moment.”

Yoongi scoffs, turning you around so that you’re facing him. He’s bending down to pick you up with his hands under your thighs, sitting you on top of the counter. He leans in to kiss you slowly and you reciprocate, arms already wrapping around his neck.

When he pulls away, catching you with a little pout on your face which makes him chuckle.

“‘Heat of the moment’ my ass—you seemed to like that kiss and you’re giving me a look that’s telling me you want more, hm?”

You shook your head.

He leans in to peck your lips once, twice—a third time.

“Shouldn’t you be pushing me away since you don’t like me that way?”

You roll your eyes at him, shaking your head afterwards. A small pause of silence.

He wanted to hear you say it. Loud and clear.

“I do like…,” you mumble, trailing off. You turn your head away, looking over to the side.

“Louder for me, baby.” He takes his hand and brings your face to look at him again.

You sigh, rolling your eyes.

“You’re cute and all—,” you mumble, but quickly add on, “—but I want to get to know you more first.”

You watch the side of his lips slowly turn upwards. He’s smiling big, as if he finally won the gold medal in a marathon. Then he’s chuckling—both in relief and because of you being so cute.

‘Finally’ he thought. He’ll take what he can get.

“I told you baby,” he’s bringing his hands up to cup your face, a thumb caressing one of the sides of your cheek, “if I want something, I’m going to do whatever it takes to get it. Even if that means taking you out on a million dates to get you to be my girlfriend. That’s been my plan for the past few weeks.”

Rolling your eyes again with a smile. You pucker your lips, signaling for him to give you a quick kiss, which he does with no hesitation.

“You’re so annoying.”

With his hands still cupping your face, he squishes your face, your lips even more puckered which makes it hard for you to speak.

“I’m all yours, got that? I’m not going to have a one-time-thing with you.”

“You sure about that?”

“You really think I’d just let you go just like that?” He scoffs, with a smile. “You’re mine.” He’s removing his hands from your face, resting them on the sides of the counter top, trapping you in between.

“Okay, okay,” you snort with a chuckle, “d’you want breakfast at least?”

He’s eyeing you up and down, a small smirk on his face. You watch the tip of his tongue peak out, then licking his lips.

“Yoongi…,” you whine, “it’s too early,” you roll your eyes with a small smile on your face.

“It’s never too early, baby.” His hands move around to your waist, quickly embracing you into a tight hug, pulling you close to his body.

“Can’t you give me some more time to rest?”

He’s bringing his head to the side of your neck, lighting pressing his lips against your skin, leaving a trail of kisses from the base of your neck to below your earlobe.

“I’ve given you plenty,” he mumbles against your skin.

“God you really are annoying.”

“You still like me though.”

As if he already knew what you would say, he gently bites down on the spot on your neck that he's been stuck on, causing you to let out an airy yelp.

“—I didn’t say anything!”

“You were thinking about saying it.”

“How would you know?”

He’s laughing at your attitude—he found you so fucking cute. He’s resting his head on your shoulder, his breath hitting the side of your neck. He’s tightening his hold around you a little more, while you bring a hand to his head to comb your fingers through his hair and gently massage his scalp.

There’s a small pause of silence. It wasn’t awkward—in fact it felt comfortable between the two of you, almost as if it was needed. This was all sort of new to Yoongi, and he found himself liking this a little too much. Sharing the same bed, waking up to you still around and in his clothes, morning kisses, your little attitude that he enjoys poking at, and the warm and tingly feelings he gets when he’s wrapped around you.

Maybe this is what he needed in his life—someone to finally smack him around and hold him down. Make him work harder than usual to get what he wants—or not give him immediately what he wants. Someone who will switch things up and surprise him. It just so happens that out of everyone he’s hooked up with, you managed to do all of that—and now you even got him wrapped around your finger.

#min yoongi #bts fanfic #min yoongi x reader #yoongi x reader #yoongi x you #yoongi drabble #yoongi fanfic #yoongi fluff #yoongi imagine #yoongifis #min yoongi smut #yoongi one shot #bts fluff #bts smut #bts x you #suga x reader #yoongi smut

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huskersbooze · 1 month

Text

Sick

Alastor x Reader

Summary : You get sick and Alastor keeps you company <3

Warnings : Swearing(lots of it)

Pairings : Alastor x F!Reader (M!Reader here)

Additional Tags : ALASTOR POV CUZ YES. Sick reader, implied relationship, h/c, fluff, comfort

Word count : 1.01k

“Hey, you alright, kid?” Husk tilts his head to the side, wiping down the last glass of the day.

You don’t respond. Instead, you’re staring off into the distance, dozing off in your own world.

“Kid?”

“Huh? What?” You finally snap out of your thoughts.

“Geez, ya’ look like hell.” Husk acknowledges. “Are you sick?”

“I don’t know.” You shrug. “I don’t think so?”

“Go rest. I’ll work alone today.”

“What? No! I’m fine I swear-” Before you’re able to finish your sentence, Husk flips you off.

“Bullshit. Go find your radio boyfriend.”

“Don’t bullshit me-”

You try arguing but Husk only smirks when he catches a glimpse of Alastor who’s appeared right behind you.

“Well, I just did.” He says. “Now stop being so stubborn.”

“I’m not being stubborn I-”

You feel a hand being put to your forehead and try to fight back, only to realise it was Alastor.

“High fever.” He lets go. “You’re being stubborn.”

“Oh, fuck you, Al.”

“We’ll fuck when you’re better, darling.”

You blush. Alastor grins. Husk tries to hold in a laugh but ultimately fails.

“You’re sick and you need rest, my dear. Come along.”

“I’m fine-”

Alastor can only sigh, picking you up as you yelp.

“This is completely, and utterly, your fault single-handedly.” He smiled as you pouted. “You're very much welcome, darling.”

“Whatever.”

-----

You managed to escape Alastor as he leaves to mess with Vox. (Ep2 lmao)

Upon returning to the bar, Husk was not pleased to see your ass out of bed, emphasising on how important sleep was to someone sick.

You couldn’t care less.

Though, after wiping down a few more bottles with him, your eyes doze off and your eyelids feel droopy.

“Kid?”

The world spins and fades away.

“Fuck! Kid, ya’ alright?! Alastor!”

-----

[Alastor’s pov]

I heard a little groan as my eyes widened.

"Darling." I whispered, hoping not to startle her.

"Al..?" She breathed out.

"Good morning." I joked, though so grateful she was now awake.

"Wha.. What time is it?" She asked, struggling to get up.

"Be careful." I ushered, helping her sit. "I'm not so sure myself. It's very late at night."

"Where am I?" She asked, finally waking up as she stopped slurring through her words.

"My room. ‘I’m not sick’ my arse." I replied.

"Oh. Well, I guess you and Husk were right. I just thought I was a little sick." She murmured.

"You are sick." I replied. "Just worse than you expected."

"Real humorous, Al." She gave a small, yet weak, giggle.

Silence filled the air between us, and we didn't say anything else after that. That was, until she gave a small sneeze. I could tell she tried to suppress it, but seeing it was late at night and so quiet, it was hard not to notice.

"Are you cold?" I asked. I could barely make out the silhouette of her nodding lightly. Without hesitating, I took off my coat and handed it over to her. "Better?"

"A lot. Thanks, Al." She replied. After another few seconds of silence, she spoke up once more. "Why aren’t you asleep?"

"You do remember your dear partner does not need, nor does he enjoy, sleep?"

"Excuse, excuses." She joked, earning a chuckle from me.

"I can't really sleep now." She suddenly says out of nowhere. One thing I really like about this girl, she says the most random things in the most random situations. "Could we do something else?"

"Are you trying to get me killed?" I laughed. "You need to rest."

"I'm aware. That's the initial plan, anyways." She joked. At least, I hoped she was joking.

"You sneaky little deer."

"Yes. That's me. Hello." She replied, sitting on the edge of the bed with her legs crossed as she proceeded to look at me in the dark room. “Besides, it’s not like anyone here at the Hotel is actually powerful enough to kill you.”

"Very well, then. What do you have in mind?"

“Some jazz and cuddles would be nice.”

-----

She chokes on another cough.

"Are you sure you're alright? You should really rest in such vulnerable state."

"I'm," Another cough. "Fine. I swear."

"If you insist."

After a while, I turned to face her, worried she wasn't enjoying herself anymore, only to find her sound asleep, clinging lightly to my shirt. See? I told you were sleepy. You just refused to listen to me. I stopped and watched the girl, moving little by little, afraid of waking her up.

She looked so peaceful. Though, it wouldn't be the first time I find her sleeping in my presence. I tugged a small strand of hair behind her ear as she shifted a little. I immediately paused. Shit, had I woken her? Though she soon returned to her slumber and she curled up into a ball in front of me.

I suppose this would suffice.

"Goodnight, darling." I whispered softly, laying next to her in the bed. "See you in the morning."

-----

[2nd person]

You awoke early in the morning, feeling well rested. Your bed was awfully more comfortable than you had remembered. You sat up and rubbed your eyes, finally opening them for the first time, only to find that you weren't in your own room. It took you a while to let things simmer in.

That's when you heard snoring next to you.

You turned to find the Radio Demon cuddled into a ball next to you in bed sleeping oh so soundly. The poor man probably hadn't had sleep in days. Before you could process what was happening, you checked the time and realized you had to be back at the bar for work in 5 minutes. Not wanting to wake Alastor up, you left him a quick note to thank him and left.

----

The whole day passed and you never caught sight of Alastor. After closing the bar, you headed to Alastor’s room,hoping to find him there.

You stop at his door and break out a tiny laugh.

On the door, a rushed sign saying — Sick. Keep out.

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cranberryjuice-posts · 1 month

Text

- on the court -

Pairings - Clarisse La Rue x Fem! Reader

Synopsis - Clarisse underestimates you because of how feminine you are.

Most people assumed you just enjoyed makeup and nails and other shit like that. Which you did of course, you always made it a point to have your hair styled, your makeup done, your nails with a fresh coat of paint, and your lip combo was always on top.

Though there was something you liked more than makeup and all that. It was basketball.

Basketball was something you grew up with. Your parent helped introduce you to the sport and from there you only grew more fascinated with it. Joining your schools team every year and constantly going to games.

It had been your dream to go to college for basketball to!. At camp though you hadn’t really played. For some reason you never felt the draw to it which was in usual for you.

One night you couldn’t sleep. It was later but some kids were still up goofing off, mostly older campers. Throwing on a pink cropped hoodie that matched your juicy couture track suit.

Walking past the bonfire and the stoners you eventually made it to the court. Your Special place. When everything felt confusing and down basketball always brought you back.

Playing currently were some ares kids. One that caught your attention was clarisse. You both had been flirting back and forth for a while now, nothing to serious but serious enough that neither of you tried anything with anyone else.

Stepping onto the concrete slab you waited and watched as clarisse got her final shot for the game. As she made it with easy she turned around hearing your clapping.

Quickly she walked over, not wanting to seem rude. “Hey beautiful” she smiled leaning onto the sponge pad.

“Hi” you giggled.

“Come to watch me play?” She lightly flirted, every chance y’all got it was spent with light jabs at one another.

You shook your head “nah I’m here to play”

She just laughed not taking you serious. “Yeah? And how are you gonna play with your acrylics”

Clarisses Brother passed the ball over giving you the chance to steal it from her. “I guess we’ll see”

Your wide and cocky smile was the last thing clarisse saw before you practically dog walked her. Not giving her a chance to take the ball from you, making multiple shots from anywhere on the court and even when she had the ball you some how managed to take it back.

After the eighth score you looked back to see the once proud girl panting and embarrassed.

You walked over and smiled up at her. “What was That about me not being able to play?”

“Shut up” she scoffed with a mixture of annoyance and being flustered. That just made your smile become wider. “Someone’s mad”

“Am not” she quickly denied trying to act as though the entire one on one didn’t happen. You just rolled your eyes, planting a kiss on her cheek you shoved the ball back into her body.

“I’ll see you around La rue” her stunned face made you giggle while walking away, it was late enough.

#lesbian #wlw #clarisse la rue #clarisse pjo #clarisse x reader #percy jackson fanfiction #clarisse larue #clarisse my beloved #percy jackson show #pjo fandom #clarisse x female reader #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse x you

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iguessthisisanewobsession · 1 year

Text

It’s a running joke in the manor that Tim’s kid was like a cat

And he would never admit that he could kind of see it himself.

The climbing, the ability to go from zero to a hundred in energy, and unfortunate ability to be too cute to actually get mad at him for anything he does.

Finding said son running out and about when there was breakout was pushing through.

“Hi Dad!!”

“Danny! What are you doing out here?!it’s still lockdown chickadee!”

Danny looked down at the ground and scuffed one of his shoe against the pavement.

“I know… but you’ve been gone so long and I’ve been worried!”

Tim sighed and tapped his comm,

“Oracle, please keep lookout for the next couple minutes.”

And crouched down in front of his son,

“You haven’t been home in a while and I missed you..”

Tim sighed as he wiped a tear from Danny’s face.

It was almost unfortunate how much the kid took after him.

“Kiddo I’m sorry, that’s my fault, I know we haven’t been able to hang out for the past week-“

Danny stomped a foot in frustration,

“No you don’t understand! You forget to sleep when you don’t come home ‘n’ great grandpa Alffie said we got to sleep because it’s good for you ‘n’ that when you don’t you are more likely to get hurt! I don’t want you hurt!”

Tim wanted to argue, and say that he was fine. He’s been taking cat naps between searching and the fights. If it was anyone else in his family he would’ve done so.

But this was his son, his little chickadee who loves so much and worries about himself so little.

He needs to set an precedent before bad habits emerge.

Picking Danny up, Tim set him down onto his hip and stuck his chin on his head.

“You’re right, I guess I haven’t been being nice to myself like I’m supposed to. How about we go back home and I’ll lay down with you for a couple hours?”

Danny peered up with glassy eyes,

“Can you stay for breakfast?”

And didn’t that just hurt to hear? Faded memories of asking that same question only to be given this almost pitying look danced in the back his mind.

“Sorry kiddo, but we just don’t have enough time before our flight but don’t worry when we get back we’ll have a family day, just the three of us!”

Clearing his throat Tim met his son’s eyes.

“Sure champ, and when we finally get joker back in Arkham we can ask everyone to have a family day, how does that sound?”

Stars almost seemed to take over Danny’s eyes as he let out a little gasp.

“Really?!”

“I promise.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Yes, many of Danny’s mannerisms were reminiscent of a cat, but this was new.

Tim pinched his eyebrow in exasperation as he looked at his siblings.

He wished he never got up this morning.

“And how exactly did Danny somehow get a crowbar?”

The kid in question just happily swung his legs as he sat on the bench unaware that he himself was going to be getting a far longer conversation as soon as they got back to the manor.

“To be honest.. in hindsight, not my brightest moment.”

“WHY IN GODS NAME A CROWBAR?!”

“He said he needed something to help take care of the trash! I thought he would use it like a knapsack or something!”

Jason Thew his hands in the air, and Dick let out a snort while he nudged the mess of a clown next to him.

“Well he very much did use it for something.”

“Nightwing! I’m just as mad at you for somehow loosing the kid this badly to begin with!! You. Are. Not. Helping.”

“I know but I’m just saying, he gets his dramaticism from you.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

At the end of the day, Joker ended up paralyzed from the neck down.

Jason and Dick were both no longer allowed to babysit Danny alone.

And one little munchkin was, though very much grounded, hailed a hero by all of Gotham for the actions that were live-streamed by onlookers.

And once he was no longer grounded, he did get his family day.

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briefalpacashark · 2 months

Text

~Ghost of the past~

When returning to your hometown you faced with some unpleasant memories.

================================================

You stared. Your eyes locked on the projection in front of you. You sat with the boys all in a little meeting room as Price walked you through your next mission.

“Australia?” Soap asked.

“That's right. We got a lead that there a weapons cache. One of makarovs. We head in. Clear it out and take a few prisoners for questioning,” Price explained.

“Excited to go home lass?” You looked over the photos of the familiar landscape. Your expression was blank as you comprehend what Price was telling you.

“Lass?” Everyone's attention turned to you.

“Huh?” You asked, snapping out of your little trance.

“You alright?” Gaz asked, giving your side a little nudge. Your usual bright smile graced your lips as you leaned back in the chair.

“Of course. Sorry Jonny. Was in my own little world. Whadya say?” you asked. You could feel it. The anxiety creeping up your spine. Ticking the back of your ribs.

“Asked if ya excited to go home?” Soap repeated with a grin. You smiled bashfully nodding your head.

“Of course. Where about we going?” you asked Price. He smiled warmly happy with what he was about to tell you.

“We're actually going to your old base, you got family down there, don't you?” he asked. The fear gripped your lungs, stopping any hope of breathing. You nodded.

“You got any hot sisters?” Soap asked. You chuckled, shaking your head.

You were going home?

“Sorry Jonny. Only got a brother,” you said.

“Damn,” he faked disappointment as Gaz chuckled. Price smiled at the interaction.

“Who we working with?” you asked.

“Australian special forces. Not sure what team yet,” he stated.

That's fine. You thought. There were plenty of special forces units. The chances of meeting your old team were slim. But it was still there. You nodded, readjusting in your seat. You could feel the room getting small. The air getting thicker. You didn't take anything else in after that. Your forced smile stayed upon your lips the entire time. And inside your mind was a mess. A storm of past events that had haunted you for many a day and in the dark of night when you searched for sleep.

“Doc want to come up here and give us a brief. We’ll be out in the bush and Laswell said you might know an insider's thing or two,” he gestured you up. All the fear and anxiety you felt was pushed way down low, locked away and covered in a black curtain. After all there was no use in worrying about something you couldn't change.

“Alright,” You cracked your knuckles slaughtering over to the white board.

“Rule number one!” You took a marker writing the word death in big letters.

“Anything and everything can and will try to kill you. And when I mean everything, I mean everything. No matter what, check your boots every time before you put them on. One bite from a funnel web and you're dead,” You took on a half joking half serious tone as you slapped the board.

“I can almost guarantee that you will come across a snake. Half of them are venomous, the other half aint. But they both will leave you alone if you leave them alone. You see a snake, you stay still, let him pass and then walk away. DO! NOT! PESTER! THE WILDLIFE! They can and will fuck you up,” the boys grinned as you emphasised the next words.

“Rule number two,” You wrote the word etiquette.

“When meeting someone or walking past someone you will be asked this question. Howya goin? Translated, it means how are you going. This is not a question. It is not an innovation to have a conversation. This is a greeting. The only appropriate response to this greeting are as follows,

Not to bad.

Could be better.

Good mate.

You can then have the option to say, yourself? It gives them the option to answer the same question. Do not feel offended if they dont answer,” You stated.

“You will be called every name under the god damn sun. You will be called a cunt. It can be used as the greatest sign of affection and the greatest insult. It's all based on how they say it. Pay attention to the tone,” you said.

“You haven't called us cunts before. That mean you don't love us?” Soap asked.

“Speak for yourself,” Price spoke up. You grinned, turning back to the board.

“Do not call anyone champ. That is the worst insult you can give, it will get you punched,” you wrote the word champ and put a larger x across it.

“If you are driving and someone gives way to you, always and I mean always give them a nod and a two-finger wave,” you explained demonstrating the movement.

“And for the love of god beware the drop bears,” you took a deathly serious tone as you wrote the word.

“The fuck is a drop bear?” Gaz asked. You turned staring deeply into their souls,

“They're about as big as a dog. Corse grey fur, one the most vicious animals you will meet down under. They hide in trees and drop down on unsuspecting prey, on unsuspecting people. They'll rip you to shreds faster than any of the bears here. Tear your face right of the bone” Inside you were howling with laughter as the flashes of fear you saw in the boys' faces. “Alright, that about covers it. Follow those rules and you should be fine,” You smiled cheerily.

On the flight over you found yourself staring deeply at the other side of the cargo area. It was actually happening. You thought about opting out of the mission. Using some bull shit excuse that excused you from attending. Price would have allowed it.

And leave your team all alone? You smiled, shaking your head. No matter how scared you were, you would never abandon them. After all you had faced worse. Much worse.

But you didn't know if you could face them again.

Them?

Your old team. Every face is still fresh in your mind, as if you had only seen them yesterday. Leaning back, you closed your eyes as the plane started to descend. The fear was fighting to break free.

“You've been awfully quiet,” Your eyes snapped open, and you looked to your left where Ghost sat. His gaze was forward facing his arms crossed over his chest.

“Nervous I guess,” you chuckled. He slowly looked to you his eyes burning into your own seeming to look for whatever secret you were keeping.

“How long has it been?” he asked.

“Not long enough,” with his eyes boring into yours you felt as if the truth was trusted out from your chest. He hummed, seeming to get everything he wanted from the interaction before returning to his quiet self.

The plane landed and the back ramp opened up. Heaving your bag onto your shoulders you let the boys take the lead, hoping to use their tall asses to keep you hidden. The hot Australian sun of the great QLD hit you all like a wave. You had gotten used to the rain and shady weather of the Uk. You all walked out and onto the tarmac.

“Hot as balls in ear,” Soap commented.

“Captain Price!” Your group made your way over to the soldier that had been sent to greet you. He was a colonel. A well decorated one by the look of his badges. You were glad when you didn't recognize him.

“Colonel James, I presume?” Price asked as they shook hands.

“You presume right. Welcome to Australia, come on,” he nodded you to follow. As you walked you began to feel eyes set upon you. You saw familiar faces mixed in with the crowd. Some recognized you. some didn't.

“I know Ghost is scary, but anyone feel like they're getting more looks than usual?” Gaz asked as he looked around.

“Yeah,” Soap agreed. You kept your eyes on Ghost back hoping to just get inside as soon as possible.

“Fucken hell,” Your blood ran cold at the familiar voice.

“Ah. Captain. This is Major Adam. He leads the squad you'll be working besides,” the colonel just confirmed your worst-case scenario. “Also known as the Bloody Hells,” your hand instinctively tightens around the gun you carried casually in front of you. You wouldn't believe your luck, actually you could believe your luck. Trust lady luck to throw such a twisted day at you.

“They wernt fucking about with you lot,” Major Adam stated as he looked Ghost up and down.

“Major,” The colonel warned.

“Come on mate. We're gonna risk our necks with these boys. I think we can dispense with the formalities. Call me Adam. none of that major shit,” Adam went through the lads introducing himself. And they in return.

“Isn't there supposed to be one more of you?” Adam asked. You prayed with all your might that Ghost would stay where he was. That you could hide behind him for the whole mission if possible. Only he looked back towards you stepping back to put you on full view. Adam eyes dropped from Ghost to you. Everything froze as he gave you a kind sad smile. He did look different in the slightest. Still the same drop-dead gorgeous face. Perfect bone structure and curly black hair. His face brought back a flood of memories.

“Y/N,” the way he so tenderly used your name made you want to puke. You clench your jaw as you debate on what exactly you should do.

“Major,” You gave a curt nod.

“You two know each other?” Price asked calculating your reaction.

“She's a part of our team,” Adam stated simply.

“Used to be. This is my team now,” You nodded to the boys. Adam smiled with an understanding nod.

“Of course. But can I just say a goodbye would have been nice. Hell, even a reason as to why you left,” You couldn't believe the audacity of the man in front of you. He knew exactly why you had left. And he knew you knew. That sweet little smile he wore twisted ever so sinisterly at its edges.

“Oh, Sargent Y/L/N?” The colonel asked.

“That's her name. She prefers to go by Maddog though,” Adam chuckled light heartedly.

“Mad dog?” Soap asked, turning to you. The boys were all watching you, unsecure of what to make of your behavior.

“Old nick name,” you stated simply. From the moment he had arrived you had yet to take your eyes of Adam. Yet to release the tight hold you had on your weapon.

“Well, it's an honor. Heard a lot about your work from my brother. He's a medic as well,” The colonel gave you a kind smile.

“Maybe you could give the kid a few pointers,” Adam suggested.

“Maybe,” you bit. You just wanted it all to be over. You wanted to get out of there. You wanted to get away from the interaction. Away from him. An awkward silence passed over the group as Adam stared at you.

“Well let's get you situated,” The colonel gestured your group forward. Adam gave you all a nod as you passed. Only his hand snapped out gripping painfully tight onto your upper arm.

“Welcome home sweetheart,” Adam smirked as he whispered the words. Your eyes narrowed into a glare.

“Let go,” you ordered. His smirk widened but he refused to move.

“What? Didn't you miss me?” he asked.

“Doc!” you both turned to the group who had walked a few steps away. Ghost had already turned to you having been the first to notice your missing presence. The rest turned to the call. The boys could all see it. How rigid your body was. How posed it was to jump into combat at a moment's notice. How white your knuckles had gotten because of your tight grip.

“Behave. Wouldn't want your new friends getting hurt,” the warning Adam gave you had you ripping your arm from his grasp.

“I could say the same to you,” you whispered back before jogging up to your team giving them a reassuring smile.

As you were unpacking your things you could feel the gazes of the boys on your back.

“Sooooooo,” Soap trailed off.

“He was the lead of my old team. Things didn't end on good terms,” you answered quickly.

“Things?” Soap was trying to lighten the mood with his teasing tone. You were surprised when you practically slammed your locker closed.

“I'll be back soon,” you rushed the words out as you left, keeping your back to the boys. As soon as you closed the doors they shared looks.

“She's been a mess since you told us we were comen here,” Ghost announced.

“So you noticed too?” Price asked, readjusting on his cot.

“Should we be worried?” Gaz asked. They had never dealt with this side of you before.

“That Adam guy seems nice,” Soap shrugged.

“Too nice,” Ghost muttered.

So there you were. ACDC music blasting in the shed you currently resided in. At the moment you were gutting an old truck. Tearing it apart screw by screw, bolt by bolt. It was a part of the engineer's program you guys had. New recruits had to build it completely from scratch. That meant it had to be taken apart first. It was the job everyone hated. Yet since the start of your military career you had one day been volunteered for such a task. You found a strange solace in the task. Solace you so desperately needed as your emotions decided to play trip wire with your body. It was night by the time your team came to find you. You peeked at them around the truck. You expected questions, Soaps prying nature to take over. Instead, they found scattered items to act as seats as they cracked open a few beers. Definitely not army regulation. They didn't pry, they knew you didn't want to talk about it. It brought a warm fuzzy feeling to your belly. They were there to support you. To show you, you weren't alone.

“Need a hand?” Ghost asked as he offered you a beer.

“Sure, grab a spanner,” you took the beer, cracking it open and sculling it. Praying to find a calm in the effects of alcohol.

“What are we fixing?” he asked, looking over the half dismantled truck.

“Not fixing, pulling apart. All of it,” you stated licking the foam from your lips. You had failed to notice Ghost gaze as it trailed over your face, your lips, and your neck and upper chest that glistened with sweat.

“Seems simple enough,” he nodded.

“That's not wise. Ghost and vehicles don't mix,” Soap spoke up. A small smile worked its way onto your face as the other laughed.

“Don't worry Ghost. I trust ya,” you whispered jokingly to him offering him a wink. He gave a grunt as he got to work. He was wearing a short sleeve, giving you a perfect view of his muscles that rippled under his skin with each movement. As you worked you stole glances at his tattooed sleeve.

“See something you like love?” your eyes snapped up to his face thinking you had been caught out. Only his gaze was focused on the machine in front of him.

“Nah, just something shockingly ugly,” you joked. Again, you could swear his mask tilted into a smile.

“You just smiled,” you stated proudly.

“I don't smile,” he shut you down quickly.

“Sure,” you nodded not believing him in the slightest.

“Is she here!?” you frowned at the demand. The yell echoing through the shed.

“Woah kid. Slow down,” Price stood to meet the soldier that had just run to them.

“Is she here?” he pressed. You stepped out from behind Ghost spotting a member from your old team. Jamie. Sweet kid. Red hair and a baby face. Good heart. When he saw you, his face crumpled, his body filled with guilt. And relief?

“So you're really alive?” he asked. The boys gave you confused glances at his statement. You became very invested in getting the grease stains off your hands. “It would seem so,” you muttered. It was silent as Jamie simply stared at you.

“What do you want Jamie?” you asked softly. Too softly. Tears started to gather in his eyes.

“I'm sorry,” he whispered. Your eyes snapped up at the words.

“I'm so sorry,” he kept repeating the words as you stalked forward.

“Shut up,” you demanded.

“I- I didn't want to. I should have never done it. Im so so sorry,” the words tumbled out of his mouth in a jumbled mess.

“Get lost Jamie,” You ordered.

“Mad dog please,” he begged.

“I said get lost!” you snapped.

“Please, I know it was wrong. I just. I was scared ok. And we were given orders. I- I didn't know what to do,” he was begging at this point.

“Oh you were scared were you?” You asked sarcastically. His mouth clamped shut. You had been sacred. Terrified. That fear lived in your heart, forever embedded into your memory. And what had he done for it. Nothing. “Come on,” you tried to drag him away. Tried to hide whatever would come to light from the boys. Only Jamie stopped pulling back from your grip.

“He said you were dead,” he whispered. Your hand snapped out gripping tightly onto his collar.

Your mind plunged you back to that fateful day. The day you were standing on hell's doorstep. Bloodied and bruised from your efforts to save your team. The day your team fled in the safety of a helicopter. The day they saw you. Each and every one of them saw you. Alive and fighting for your goddamn life all alone. The day they left you to die. Jamie knew the words he had just said were a lie. His face wouldn't have scrunched up in such an ashamed way if he didn't.

“Doc?” Price called you softly. They weren't sure what you were about to do. But they all stood at the ready.

“Let's talk about this elsewhere,” you demanded once again, going to pull him away.

“No,” he pulled back again. “I'm not leaving until you listen to me,” He stayed. Fine if he wanted to have the conversation you'd have the conversation.

“What did you come here for Jamie? Forgiveness?” You asked softly. He was still the kid you took under your wing. He was still the boy you had fought beside. Shed blood beside.

“Forgive what? Huh?” you asked. You wanted him to answer. To admit what he had done.

“Please,” he begged. Your resolve wasn't easy to break. But Jamie always had a special place in your heart. He reminded you of your little brother. That made it all the more painful.

“Were human Jamie. We all have moments of weakness. Of cowardice,” you whispered. “I won't blame you for that. I'll forgive you for that,” you stated. You saw the slightest hope in his eyes.

“But I'll never forget,” you finished diminishing that hope.

“A moment of weakness is understandable,” you added. You released his collar fixing it.

“How long has it been since we last met?” you asked.

“About two years,” he answered in slight confusion.

“Damn long time for a moment of weakness huh?” you asked bitterly. Shame consumed him as he cast his eyes to the ground.

“Fuck of Jamie,” you ordered softly. He walked off without a word of protest, his tail tucked between his legs.

“And Jamie,” you called after him. He turned awaiting your next words.

“He's gonna get you killed,” you said. He didn't acknowledge your words, but you could see they had wormed their way into his brain. And a little part of him knew you were right.

You could feel the boy's eyes bore into you. Trying to make sense of what had just happened.

Silently you walked back over to the truck, picking up your discarded wrench and getting back to work.

“You alright love?” Price asked. The boys were shocked when you showed them your usual bright smile. They were surprised at how normal you could act, but they all knew the smile on your face wasn't accurate to what you were feeling inside.

“I'm fine, boys,” you said.

“I'd like to be alone for a bit, if it's alright you you lot?” you suggested casually.

“Yeah, yeah. Course,” Price nodded, gesturing for the boys to leave.

“Well be back at base if you need anything,” he added before walking off. You waited till you couldn't hear the foot falls before you dropped your head into your hand, the tears flowing from your eyes like a tap.

God, what had you gotten yourself into.

Your soft sobs echoed in the shed, being just loud enough for the boys to hear.

It was late when you walked into the tent. You knew the boys would have woken up with your arrival, but they stayed in their sleeping positions. You looked over them. How many times had they risked their life for you. How many times had they saved you.

They had saved you.

Joining the 141 saved you.

And you were damned if you were to let anything happen to them.

“Price,” you walked over to him. He opened his eyes quickly sitting up.

“Need anything love?” he asked.

“We can't go on this mission,” you said. He frowned, glancing at the others who had all sat up.

“Whadya mean?” he asked you to elaborate.

“Adam’s a snake sir. He will fuck us over without a second thought if it means getting what he wants. We can't trust him. And we can't go on this mission. It's too dangerous,” you spoke firmly. The only betrayal to the hard font you put on being the red puffy eyes from crying.

“That's not really an option Doc,” he said.

“Then make it one,” you pressed. He pressed his lips together, sighing. You had never asked anything of him. You had trusted his every order, his every choice. “Doc, we all have history. But we are soldiers. Shit goes wrong all the time,” he was trying to reason with you. Trying to make you see that whatever lovers quarrel you had with Adam meant nothing. That's what he thought it was. He would never be able to guess the severity of what had happened.

“Please Sir. I'm begging you, Please don't make us go on this mission,” they hated how frail you sounded. How broken. Price wanted at that very moment to give into you. To do as you said. But he didn't have the full story.

“If I'm gonna do this I need the full story doc,” he gave you the ultimatum. He needed proof to ditch the mission. Reasonable doubt. After all he was a soldier, a good one at that. He couldn't ditch a mission just because one of his soldiers asked him nicely.

“I,” your words got caught in your throat. You wanted to tell him everything.

But you couldn't.

“I can't say sir,” you admitted.

“Then this conversation is done,” he spoke softly, finishing the discussion. At that moment you hated how rational he was.

“Yes sir,” you whispered, walking over to your bunk and sitting down with your back to the boys. After slipping off your boots you got into bed.

The next day everyone was ready. When the boys had woken up you were nowhere to be seen in the barracks.

“You think she'll come?” Soap asked as he checked his weapons. To their left the bloody hells were doing final checks as well.

“Don't know,” Price muttered. A soft silence washed over the group as you walked up to them. You wore a simple desert mask that covered the bottom half on you face your eyes blank of emotions. The boys took notice of the guilty bewildered looks the other team gave you. “Well good morning beautiful,” Adam smiled brightly. You paused looking over his face. You had made many memories with the man in front of you. Many sweet and beautiful. But they were all bitter now. Reaching into your pocket you pulled out an old patch. The bloody hells written in red upon it. The edge was stained with blood, the other side burnt slightly.

“Thought it was time I gave this back,” you muttered holding it out to him. He refused to take it.

“Once a member of the bloody hells always a member,” he said. You huffed.

“Nah mate,” you shock your head, throwing it to his feet.

“Lets get it done,” you said, knocking knuckles with Jonny before getting into the back of the truck.

The mission was a simple one. Get in, clear the base. Collect data and dispose of the weapons. It was going well. You were with your boys. That was until you weren't.

“Tims been hit. Our medics down. We need you MadDog,” you ears rung at the comms. You were currently in a hallway. Price turned back to you.

“This is Doc, what is your position, over?” you asked into the comm.

“West side, next to the green building,” he responded.

“That's the cleared area,” you muttered.

“Take Ghost with you,” Price ordered.

“No, you've still got enemies to face. It's a cleared area, I'll be fine,” you said. You were right and he knew it. He also knew you could handle yourself.

“Look after each other ok,” you ordered before taking off in the direction you had come from.

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--COD Master List Here--

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#141 x reader #141 x you #cod 141 #cod ghost #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost x reader #task force 141 #tf 141 #simon riley x reader #ghost cod #cod mw2 #cod #cod x reader #call of duty modern warfare #cod modern warfare #cod mwf2 #mw fics

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just-jordie-things · 8 months

Text

home run - inumaki toge

word count: 5.5k warnings: swearing, idk anything about baseball so it’s mostly made up summary: toge helps coach you on how to play baseball before the big game for the exchange event. you can’t stop flirting with each other. (unestablished relationship!) more info: aged up characters! jujutsu tech is a college, still usual first and second years a/n: remember when i said this edit had me in a chokehold well i wrote this forever ago for myself and the toge loving bbies :) ___

When it was announced that the second portion of the Jujutsu Exchange Event would be held via baseball game, (y/n) visibly paled. So much so that she’d been instantly teased by one of her underclassmen for her obvious discomfort.

“Don’t tell me you don’t know how to play baseball!” Nobara threw her head back as she cackled obnoxiously. “It’s the easiest sport!”

“Kugisaki don’t be rude” Megumi grumbled, kicking his friend in the ankle as punishment for laughing at her superior. He seemed to be the only one who cared about such formality.

The group of them, the first years and second years, had been heading back towards the building for a lunch break in between events. She dragged her feet along the path, wishing time would slow down and stop altogether before she had to step foot on that field.

“I know how to play,” (y/n) defended herself, but her hold on the strap of her sheath tightened with her anxiety. “I’m just not good at it” She admitted in a quiet voice.

“That’s okay! We’ll try to give you an easy position then!” Itadori offered kindly.

She gave the boy a weak smile, grateful for his positive attitude, but still feeling the pang of embarrassment.

How she sucked at such a simple game was beyond her. Had it been a proper duel, she would be an excellent candidate. Swinging a sword- or nunchucks or spear or axe- came easy to her. Which she was able to demonstrate in the first part of the event. She’d scored quite well for her school, even when outside forces interrupted the fun and games and things had gotten real very fast.

But when it came to swinging a bat and hitting that dumb little ball, she whiffed it almost every time. It was humiliating, knowing she had the strength to cut a head clean off a body, but couldn’t play a game that was mostly catch.

Her pace slowed until she lingered behind the rest of the group, who were busy assigning positions for the coming game. If the ground swallowed her whole for the next few hours, she wouldn’t complain.

“Tuna tuna”

Lifting her gaze she found Toge stopping in his tracks as the rest of their classmates headed up the stairs without them. Even with his collar zipped up, she could see he was smiling at her, undoubtedly pitying her helplessness.

“Put me to sleep, Toge,” She sighed dramatically, to which he chuckled. “I’m serious,” She mutters at him. “This is going to be so embarrassing, I wish we could’ve just done something else. Like archery”

He shrugs his shoulders, before glancing back at their friends again, seeing they were already headed inside, and apparently hadn’t noticed their separation from the group.

He turns back to her again, and tilts his head for her to follow him. She does so without question, partially because she didn’t want to sit through an awkward lunch where the group planned what position would be easy enough for her to handle, but partially because she had taken such a liking to him that she’d follow him anywhere he tried to take her.

This wasn’t new. Since the day they met the two of them had been close, hitting it off like they were old friends reunited. His cursed speech never proved to be an obstacle, it hadn’t taken long for (y/n) to understand him as if onigiri ingredients was her foreign language choice in grade school, and she made an effort to always ensure they were having proper conversations that she’d have with anyone else.

Well, not entirely. She didn’t exactly flirt with everyone else or whisper with hushed giggles with everyone else, but you get the point. They clicked.

It doesn’t dawn on her where he’s leading them until they’re approaching the baseball field, and when they do, she lets out an exasperated groan.

“Toge, no” She whines, giving him pleading eyes to spare her from more embarrassment.

He rolls his eyes back at her, and grabs her by the wrist to drag her along the rest of the way when she tries to plant her feet and stay put. She could go boneless and let him literally drag her, but she stumbles and follows along anyways. Perhaps once he saw how terrible she truly was at the sport, he’d give up on helping her practice and ditch her out here.

Although she knew this couldn’t possibly be a real possibility. He wasn’t capable of doing such a thing.

“Salmon!” He cheers when he finds that all of the equipment for the event had been prepared, helmets and gloves sitting neatly on the bleachers, and a tall basket of baseball bats ready to be used.

He pulled one out, smacking the head of the club in his other hand as though to analyze it, even though they were all brand new and had never been touched.

He looks up at (y/n) with a grin that just barely peeks out of his collar. She frowns back at him.

“Don’t do this to me,” She pleads. “I thought we were friends”

He laughs again, and tosses her the bat without warning. At least her reflexes are sharp enough that she catches it without difficulty.

“Salmon!” He cheers for her, and she shoots him a more deadly look.

“I can catch things,” She mutters, turning her gaze to the bin of baseballs and the gloves lined up on the bleachers. “It’s the rest that I’m shit at”

He scoffs at her in disbelief, but he had yet to see the proof. (y/n) chewed on the inside of her cheek as she watched him select his own bat, and then nod at her to follow him to the plate.

If she ran away, he probably wouldn’t chase her down, she figured as she followed him up to the white rubber base- just as untouched as the rest of the equipment. She dismisses the idea just as quickly as it crosses her mind though. She wasn’t capable of ditching him, either.

Toge gestures for her to stand a bit in front of him as he takes his stance at the plate. She does so, holding the hilt of the bat loosely as she rests it on her shoulder. He continues to gesture for her to understand what he’s doing. First it’s to his feet, spread evenly but not too far from one another, just enough to keep his balance solid. Then he bends his knees the slightest, probably to give him a good range of motion. She could understand this much.

Then he holds his bat out towards her as he carefully maneuvers his hands around it’s handle. His grip tightens, and then he looks up at her expectantly, as though asking, got it?

She nods back at him wordlessly, and then he goes back into straightening up his stance. Her eyes track every movement with intense precision, wanting to commit every detail to memory. From the angle that his left elbow rests at, to where he holds the bat just behind himself, ready for the swing.

He raises his eyebrows at her, which she doesn’t notice right away since she’s too busy studying everything about his stance rather than his face. She could almost hear the teasing voice behind the look he’s giving her. Good, right?

“Mustard leaf?” He asks, in that exact tone she’d heard in her head.

“Yeah yeah, I got it” She nods.

He nods back at her, and then slowly goes through the motion of a swing, so she could clock every detail. After he finishes the follow through, he repeats the motion properly, swinging the bat with full force. Enough so that she can hear the aluminum cutting through the air.

He asks his question again when he’s done, and again, she nods at him.

“Yeah, I think I can handle that,” She says. “Should I pitch for you?”

Toge shakes his head and waves his hand for her to come up to the plate. When she stops just in front of him, he giggles, and drops his bat to the ground so he can reach out and take hold of her shoulders, so he can properly guide her to the base.

Despite the way her face heats up when he keeps his hands on her as she tries to copy the way he’d just been standing there, she doesn’t mind feeling a little shy about it. Feeling shy around Toge wasn’t nearly as embarrassing as having him teach her this simple sport.

In fact, it was never embarrassing to be reduced to a blushing mess around him. It happened too often for her to feel any shame in it, but it helped that she often brought the same behavior out of him, too. She just couldn’t see his pink cheeks when he’s standing behind her, mumbling unintelligibly as she took her stance.

She’s certain of herself once she raises the bat behind her shoulder, almost knocking him in the head, but Toge swerves and hopes she doesn’t notice.

“How’s that?” She asks with confidence.

His hands fall from her shoulders as he checks her over, and he winces behind his collar. His lack of response has her looking over her shoulder with a frown.

“Really?” The confidence is zapped out of her straight away.

He chuckles, and shrugs his shoulders with a small smile as if to ease her worry. Then his hands are on her again, guiding her arms to the proper places where she’d have the best range of motion. The toe of his shoe taps the inside of her left foot, silently prompting her to slide it out just a bit further. She follows the instruction until he raises his hand. Then he gives her a beam and a nod of his head to confirm she was positioned just right.

“You’re sure?”

“Salmon” He reaffirms.

He steps back then, twirling his finger around in the air so that she could show him her swing. She looks unsure, but she lets out a breath and lets her body follow through as naturally as she could.

She feels good about it, but she doesn’t know any better. When she looked over to Toge again, he had just unzipped his collar, ready to cheer when she swung just fine. Instead, he wears what she would call his polite smile. It was his friendly way of displaying something wasn’t quite right, but he was too nice to critique harshly. (y/n) frowns back at him.

“That bad?” She asks quietly when he approaches her again.

His smile brightens and he shakes his head at her. He was far too nice to her. If Maki was training her, she gladly would have laughed in her face before barking out orders on how to shape up.

Toge hand waves about, telling her to take her stance again. This time her footing is just right, and he beams proudly at the improvement. She manages a smile back at him, his silent praise giving her a little more confidence in learning.

He does a little circle around her, making sure everything is as it should be. There’s a pause in his step just behind her, where she’s holding her bat.

“Bonito flakes” He pats his hand over once of hers, and she fixes up her grip on the handle, then turns to look at him.

“Like that?” She asks, not sure of what her mistake had been.

It must not have been fixed, because he reaches his hand to hers, gently fingers prodding at her hand in silent instruction until she loosends her hold. He quickly raises his hand away again, giving her a thumbs up. Her grip was still secure, but her knuckles weren’t white with tension now.

After that, Toge comes behind her again, poking at the top of the baseball bat before giving her an affirmative nod to take a swing.

She does as told, slowly of course, so as not to smack him in the face on her follow through. He stops her before she even finishes, his hand patting her shoulder so she’d fix up her stance again. Third time was the charm, and her posture and hold are perfect as she straightens up.

“Tuna” The quiet instruction to pay attention is whispered in her ear as he takes a small step closer so that he could guide her properly through the swing.

One hand lays over hers on the handle of the bat, and the other slides around her opposite arm until it stops at her elbow. Her face is so hot now she wishes she was wearing one of those dumb helmets to at least hide it a little.

He guides her through the motion slowly, his hand on her elbow wobbling a little. It takes her a second to catch up, but she realizes he’s telling her that her swing was uncoordinated. She nods in understanding.

Before she gets the chance to take her stance again, he’s already guiding her back to the proper position, his eyes studying her grip carefully to be sure everything is in order.

He’s so close now that she can feel his soft breaths on the back of her neck, and baseball is quickly becoming the furthest thing from her mind. The hand that is resting on hers is so soft but so firm in it’s hold, making sure she didn’t strengthen or loosen her grip in the slightest. If she shuffled back even an inch, her back would hit his chest. It’s unbearably hot today, she’s grateful she thought to tie her hair up so it wouldn’t stick to the back of her neck, but she has half the mind to close those last pesky inches of space between them.

“Mustard leaf?” Toge’s hand pats at her elbow, beckoning her to pay attention. He must’ve noticed she’d zoned out.

“Sorry,” She mumbles, snapping back to reality. “You’re being distracting”

She’s scolding him, he can tell in the tone that she doesn’t mean it to be one of her more usual flirty comments. Nonetheless, Toge preens, grinning down at her, even though she was trying to avoid looking at him. It was hard, seeing as he was right there, and even standing behind her he was tall enough that he could see a blush creeping up her cheeks.

This time, rather than let her swing on her own, he moves her through the motions himself. It’s horribly slow, especially when her swing reaches it’s apex and he’s pulled even closer from the motion. Her teeth sink into her bottom lip as she struggles to keep her focus on paying attention to her form.

“Salmon” Toge gives her a smile as he finishes guiding her through the follow through. He’s certain she has the technique down now, but when she looks at him, her expression is defeated. His brows furrowed in confusion. “Mustard leaf?”

“This isn’t going to work,” She huffs, lowering the bat until it almost hits the ground. “It’s too..” She trails off, waving her free hand around in a sporadic motion. “Too much!”

He seems to catch her drift, his shoulders shaking as he chuckles at her.

“Don’t laugh at me”

He sticks his bottom lip out at her in a dramatic pout.

Her brows pinch together before drawing upwards, pleading with him not to mess with her more than he already had.

“I’m sorry I’m not getting it!” She cried, her leg bouncing with her irritation. “But you’re the worst teacher!”

“Bonito flakes!” He took offense to the comment, and (y/n) gave him a deadpan look.

“You know what I mean,” She says in a quieter volume.

He tilts his head and feigns a confused expression, just to watch her blush and squirm.

“You’re being a jerk you know” She tells him, her eyes locked on his even when he walks closer and grins in her face. He’s waiting expectantly for her to explain what he already knew.

He flustered her. It wasn’t the first time, and most certainly wasn’t the last. But truthfully, Toge hadn’t been aiming to flirt with her. He just wanted to help her out with her swing. Seeing her blushing and flustered was just an added bonus.

She’s the first to surrender.

“Okay fine,” She lets out a heavy breath and raises her bat again. “Show me one more time, then you can pitch for me”

Toge’s grin is plastered on his face as he repositions himself again, but this time she swears he’s standing just a little closer than before as he guides her hand and elbow through her swing.

He lets out a low whistle when he draws her back again so they can practice through it one more time, even though (y/n) was certain now that she had it down. She starts to pull away, but before she can tell him that she thinks she has it now, he tuts at her and drags her back towards him. This time her back does hit his chest, and she doesn’t protest again.

Even though her footing is all off, and there’s no way she could deliver a proper swing when his chin is tucked against her shoulder where her bat should hover. He’s close enough that he can see- and hear- the heavy gulp she swallows. He giggles at her before pulling away the hand he had on her elbow. He lets out a small mumble of an onigiri ingredient she doesn’t quite catch because his breath is hitting the crook of her neck and he’s just so close that she feels dizzy. He brings his hand up to her neck, knuckles skimming over the nape and then along the junction of her shoulder so he could pull away the few strands of hair that had fallen loose from her ponytail.

She giggles at the ticklish feeling, and he forgets that he’s supposed to be coaching her as he raises his fingers to brush over the spot again. This time she tilts her shoulder as she laughs again, a jerky motion as the muscle reacts on it’s own accord, but it brings his face closer to hers as she does so. He laughs to himself just from hearing her giggles as he continues to tease the sensitive spot.

“Toge!” She tries to shove him away, but he’s quick to drop his other hand from where she had a hold on the bat, wrapping his arm around her front and holding her hip firmly so she couldn’t wiggle away from him. He laughs almost too joyfully as she continues to giggle and squirm in his hold. “Toge! Qu-quit it!” She stammers over the relentless giggles he forces out of her, and it seems to only spur him on further.

She’s reduced to broken gasps between her fits of laughter, and the bat falls from her hand before she realizes. Even when it bounces on the sand and rolls across the ground she doesn’t pay it any mind, too busy using her free hand to try to grab at his arm and get him to loosen his hold on her.

Her attempts are futile. His hold on her is firm, and even when she gets a good grip on his sleeve, he retaliates by keeping her snug against him, and then lifting her off the ground altogether. Her feet kick and scramble, somewhat from the lack of ground beneath them, more-so from the way her body reacts to his continued tickling. Both of her hands are now occupied by gripping onto his arms to keep her anchored somehow, but even in the delirious state he’s sinking her into, she knows he wouldn’t drop her.

Eventually Toge’s laughing at her too much to care about continuing to tickle her, even though he took great amusement in it, he was now entertained enough by having her in his arms, even if she was kicking at the air for him to put her down.

She’s shouting his name between bursts of giggles that still escape her like after shocks. The sudden bout of goofiness from him is a little lost on her, but even as she hollers at him to put her down, her threats are empty. She sinks into his hold and accepts whatever fate he has in store for her.

Her head tilts back until it hits his shoulder, and she can just barely peek up at him. His face is split with a grin, lavender eyes hooded and dazed as he gazes back down at her.

Toge’s never needed words to flirt with her. Sure sometimes his texts had certain incriminating emojis, and the notes he’d pass her in class were also damning evidence of his affections. But (y/n) could feel all of that coming from him just from the way he looks at her, like right now. He had an intense gaze, and she was sure that if she was brave enough to not break away from the eye contact, that she could penetrate his mind and read his thoughts directly.

Finally, he sets her down, his grip on her loosening, just as her hands on his forearms did once she had her feet on the ground again. She giggles at him, giving him a cheeky little smile as she turns to properly face him. Her hands take hold of his wrists as she ensures the proximity between them doesn’t shift too much.

Logically they should get back to perfecting her swing, the lunch break would be over soon and the game would begin shortly after. Not that logic is able to cling onto a single thought in her starry eyed stupor. She looked up at him like he was the prettiest thing she’d ever seen, softening before him in her gaze and the smile on her lips.

She had been patient, at least she thinks she has. She’s enjoyed the little game they’d been playing, the lingering touches, the flirty remarks met with longing gazes. Their mannerisms were anything but platonic, and if anyone were to snatch their phones they’d scramble to delete their messages with each other.

But it had been quite some time of this game as she’d affectionately referred to their… whatever this was. And her patience was wearing thin waiting for him to make a move. She didn’t know what he was waiting for, she was certain that she’d made her position clear. Especially now, clinging onto him and staring up at him expectantly. It was just the two of them, and they were so close, it wouldn’t take much for him to just fucking kiss her already-

Toge’s movements are quick as he pulls his arms so his wrists fall out of her hold, only for him to squeeze her hands quickly before moving past her.

“Tuna mayo” He beckons her to follow him back to the plate, but she’s stunned in place for a minute.

Did he really just brush that off? She shook her head as she went back to home plate, picking up her bat and tapping it against the ground to shake off the excess sand that had clung to it when she’d dropped it. Had she not communicated well enough through her eyes? She’d stared at him with her best ‘kiss me now!’ look. Her brow furrowed as she watched Toge grab a glove and baseball from the leftover equipment.

He jogs out to the pitcher’s mound, giving her a thumbs up and an affirmative cheer. With a determined look on her face, (y/n) straightens up her stance, her hands curling around the handle on the bat until muscle memory took over and she found the correct hold on it.

Toge throws a perfect pitch, his movements clean as his long limbs work in harmony to send the baseball hurtling towards her. Her eyes never leave the ball as she tightens her grip, takes the smallest of steps forward, and swings.

The crack sounds so loud the aluminum trembles in her hold from the harshness of her hit. Even Toge’s impressed enough that he’s frozen as his eyes follow the flight of the ball over his head. He was confident in her ability, after some coaching anyways, but he wasn’t expecting such a solid swing. Had Jujutsu Tech gone the cheap route and got wooden bats, he was certain this one would’ve been ruined.

As if having the same thought, their eyes simultaneously rip away from the ball’s trajectory towards the outfield, and they look at each other expectantly.

They both break into a full sprint in opposite directions. (y/n) drops the bat haphazardly as she takes off for first base, and Toge’s racing to the outfield in the hopes of miraculously catching the ball before it lands. However, it’s already begun it’s descent so the odds are slim to none.

(y/n) knows she should keep her focus on running and hitting all the bases properly, but she can’t help but throw her head over her shoulder to keep an eye on Toge. He scrambles to grab the ball just as she’s touching second base.

She squeals with delight when he makes a break for home plate, and tries to push herself to run faster, but she’d already decided to give this run of the bases her full power, seeing as it was just the two of them.

He’s gaining on her when she crosses third, and a string of laughter escapes her from the anticipation. It’s not a real game, but her competitive nature had been tapped into as soon as she struck that ball, and now all she cares about is winning.

As home plate nears she can feel Toge getting closer. She doesn’t dare look at him again, instead opting to do whatever it took to get her on that plate before he can. Her heart is racing, she’s panting for air, the sun is beating down impossibly hotter, but she doesn’t care. She’s about to take the win.

Toge has other plans, darting around her and coming up on the plate with more speed than before. She gasps in offense at his drive to take this from her, but it sparks that competitive fire in her again, and she comes up with a faster plan.

With as much momentum stored as possible, she drops to the ground. She falls with grace but hits the sand unceremoniously. The course grit is uncomfortable on her skin as she slides across the ground with the force of her body weight. Her dominant leg is outstretched, foot angled outwards in the hopes of touching that damn white plate before he can.

She cheers in premature victory when she feels the brush of solid rubber against her sneaker.

The pride is short lived when she feels another foot collide with hers just as the rest of her body is sliding over the plate, and before she can stop herself, she’s effectively tripped Toge right off his feet, and he’s falling to the ground.

They both barely let out a yelp in surprise before he’s crashing into her. He just barely braces himself with his palms hitting the sandy ground on either side of her head, so his full weight doesn’t hit her, but she’s still properly knocked the wind out of him.

The look of shock on her face fades away as she begins to giggle. The corners of her eyes crinkle and her smile only grows wider as the giggles grow louder.

“I did it!” She cheers loudly, even though his face is inches away from hers. “I hit a home run!”

“Bonito flakes” Toge mutters, and she’s not sure if he’s cursing for her knocking him down or if he’s correcting her because technically in a real game that wouldn’t be a home run, but she doesn’t care.

She ignores his indignation completely. Her hands shoot up, grabbing either side of his unzipped collar, earning a startled look in response from the sudden impact.

Her eyes light up, and Toge blinks to make sure he’s reading this look right. The way her lashes grow heavy as her eyes flicker in between his a few times, before lowering to rest on his lips.

His lips? She’s looking at his lips?

In her moment of not paying attention, his own gaze lowers, mentally tracing the soft edges of her smile. He thinks he’s quick when he brings his line of sight back to hers, but she’s staring right at him again, and her smile is brightening, having caught the glance.

“Just kiss me already”

She’s barely finished the command and he’s obeying it like she was the one who bore the snake eyes and fangs. Leaning down the rest of the way so quickly his hands shuffle in the sand to fix his center of gravity before his lips slant over hers. She kisses him back instantly, and with fervor, her soft lips moving against his in a quick pace.

Once Toge has a good balance, he shifts so that he only needs to hold himself up with one hand, so that the other can gently cradle her jaw. His fingers skim over her neck before resting in her hair. He’s getting sand all over her skin, but she’s already covered in the stuff from her showboating slide to home plate, so he figures she won’t mind.

She hums in delight as her own hands begin to travel. The sound is heaven to his ears, and his nose prods against hers as he moves to deepen their kiss. She’s tracing over his shoulders and then the nape of his neck before diving into the soft strands of platinum blonde that aren’t even damp. Seriously, didn’t they do the same amount of sprinting just now? He didn’t break a sweat?

The thought makes her let out a little chuckle, and their kiss finally breaks when she does.

Toge’s brow furrows at her in the slightest, wondering what she could find so humorous, but she looks so pretty like this- laughing, beneath him, with kiss swollen lips that were his doing- that he doesn’t even mind. He just admires her while she blinks a few times to ease her vision to the sunlight.

“It’s nothing,” (y/n) mumbles when she sees the faint confusion in his expression. “Was just startin’ to think you’d never make a move”

Toge chuckles back at her, finding some humor in the comment. He’d been waiting for her, she was the one with all the flirty remarks after all, but he won’t complain. He could tease her about it later.

He leans back so she could sit up properly, and takes her hand to help her up to her feet with him. She begins to awkwardly brush the sand off of her clothes, but quickly realizes it’s no use and gives up. They share a laugh at her weak attempt to dust off.

“Have you guys been out here this whole time!?”

A distant holler steals their attention, and their classmates are making their way to the field. Toge frowns at the realization that their alone time was over, and now they had to gear up for the finale of the Exchange Event.

(y/n) notices the sour look, and squeezes his hand to bring his attention back to her.

“Hey, how about another game?” She suggests with a glint of excitement in her eye that should make him nervous, but he nods eagerly. “If we win this game, we can hang out in my room after,” She suggests, and then her cheeks turn pink. “And make out some more?” She adds in a softer tone, the confidence in the offer evaporating as soon as she’s actually saying the words out loud.

Toge’s face lights up as he nods in agreement to her rules.

“What!?” Panda’s voice booms and echoes throughout the field, and was likely heard even past that.

Toge and (y/n) share a wince. They’d conveniently forgotten about Panda’s enhanced hearing abilities.

Judging from the curious looks from the others and Panda’s erratic movements as he spoke, it was clear that he was telling everyone else what he’d overheard as well.

“Cheer for me when I hit a home run?” (y/n) beams at Toge, who nods back at her happily. He raises his hand, sticking his thumb and pinky out before shaking his hand in a ‘hang loose’ motion. A simple action he did often to show support for his friends.

“Salmon” He affirms.

“Okay, I’ll cheer for you too” She says sweetly, standing on the tips of her toes to plant a quick kiss on his cheek, before making her way to their approaching friends, eager to tell them about her success with baseball.

They were more curious about the bases she hit with their resident cursed speech user rather than the actual bases of the game.

… then again, so was she.

___

a/n: breathe if u want me to write a part two where they celebrate winning the game teehee

xoxo ~ jordie

812 notes · View notes

hyypnotix-writes · 9 months

Text

Straight. Straight straight straight.

~ I really don’t know what this is. I couldn’t sleep and so, here we are. I’ve never written anything other than essays for uni before so ..this could go down like a lead balloon! we’ll see, lemme know! :) ~

~ it’s like ..10k words? because I really couldn’t sleep. so, it’s a long one ..if you have nothing else to do! ~

~ I don’t think it needs any content warnings, but please tell me if there should be! there’s some swearing, if that’s off putting to you.. ~

~ it takes a tiny while for A to show up, and she’s never explicitly named..but she is there, it is her ~

~ I’m talking myself out of posting, but this is too long to scrap now, sorry ~

~ good luck! good bye xx ~

________________

The club is a disgusting little place to be. Buried right in the centre of town, with drinks so extortionately expensive, they make even the cost of your London’s monthly rent, look a little reasonable. The music blares inside your head, the strobe lighting messes with your vision, and the smell of horny sweaty bodies is an assault on the nostrils. It’s your least favourite place on earth to be.

It’s somewhere you’d managed to avoid being, for all of your early twenties. You’ve had no reason to go to a club late at night. Not when you’ve had a boyfriend for the past 5 years to go home to. That dirty little desire to get drunk, and hookup with an attractive stranger, took a nice long hibernation.

For you.

Turns out, your ever-loving, ever-caring, fuckwit of an ex-boyfriend, still managed to find the time to go to clubs, and hookup with strangers in between spending nights with you. You really thought he was out working till the early hours of the morning, busy making a living for your future together? What an idiot you were.

So, you’re back in a nightclub, at the behest of some of your single friends, for the first time in over half a decade, borderline drunk out of your mind.

It’s still a comfortable level of tipsiness at the moment, you’d argue, despite stumbling a little on your way back towards the bar. You can easily identify the song that’s being blasted, you’ve been able to order more drinks independently without being refused service. Your inhibitions are long gone, but you’re still able to think clearly, and you’re ready to find someone to go home with.

Your friends are all dotted around the room getting off with men of varying levels of attractiveness. None of them have impressed you so far, you’re not so desperate for company that you’re willing to let your own standards drop tonight. You’re happy to wait for the best-looking man in the room. Looking around the room to scope the talent on offer, however, maybe you do need to lower your standards a little bit.

You approach the bar again, and order a shot of tequila for yourself. A friendly little liquid that’s had previous success with you, for getting you to sleep with just about anything.

“¡Dos, por favor!” Comes a call from behind you, from a woman you do not know. It’s rather ballsy of her, almost rude, but she holds out her card to pay, before you can get too irritated with her request.

“Gracias.” You offer, using your exceptional detective skills to work out the woman’s nationality.

“¿Hablas español?” She checks, as she leans next to you, and you wag a dismissive, drunken finger in front of her face as you shake your head.

“Sorry to disappoint,” you tell her, “only English. GCSE level German.”

She smirks, watching you, and you narrow your eyes at her, tapping the bar as you await your drink.

You’re handed your shot, with a lime wedge and some salt, and you nod in thanks, to the woman who bought it for you. You don’t wait for her to go first, you’re in a bit of a rush here. All the men in the room are getting uglier by the second, you need to act fast, before you see the light too clearly.

You lick your hand and pour on the salt, the woman watching you closely as you do. She doesn’t go through the motions at all for her own drink, she focuses solely on you, gently biting at her bottom lip.

You lick the salt, down the shot, and she holds the lime wedge in between her fingers for you to bite. You don’t question it. Not until you sink your teeth into the lime, your eyes meet over it, and time stand still.

She has very beautiful eyes. A mysterious looking hazel. They flicker over you as you suck the citrus juice, and you can see the crinkles in the corners of them as she smiles at you. It’s weirdly intimate, unnervingly so.

You pull away, wiping the juice from your chin as you point to her own glass for her to follow suit. You find yourself watching her as she does the same routine, but you don’t hold out the fruit for her, the way she did for you. It was a strange custom, one that’s already playing on a loop in your head.

“Can I get you another?” She offers, and you find yourself torn.

You’re not here for a woman, you’ve never been with one. You’ve kissed your girlfriends once or twice when you were younger, mainly as a gross way of attracting boys. It’s not something you thought too deeply about, it wasn’t exactly a lightbulb moment for you. There was never any secret yearning for any of your friends afterwards. You’re straight. Straight straight straight.

The woman’s eyes seem to pierce through your soul, as she waits for your answer, like she can see something in you that you can’t. It draws you in, but you hold yourself back.

“I’m straight.” You tell her, and she smirks at you again.

“Congratulations! I didn’t ask,” she points out, “but thanks for letting me know.”

You frown a little as she turns her attention back to the bartender and orders two more shots for the pair of you. She doesn’t seem put off by your sexuality claim at all. It’s almost like she doesn’t believe you, and you’re not too sure you appreciate her cockiness about it.

In fairness, maybe you’re the one being cocky. She doesn’t have a badge on her saying she’s a lesbian, there’s no rainbow floating above her head. She’s not a stereotypical lesbian, not in the way that your little sister is. Maybe she’s just being friendly, and you’re projecting, because you’re drunk and full of yourself.

“Sorry,” you start, leaning into her so she can hear you above the music, and she pushes the shot towards you, “I just thought ..maybe you were coming on to me.”

“That’s very wishful thinking from you.” She says simply, turning her head slightly to face you. She’s exceptionally close, and your eyes instantly trail to her lips. Time’s stood still again.

She has nice lips, very nice lips. They’d probably taste very nice..

You have to pull yourself away.

“Gracias.” You say again, gesturing to the glass in front of you with a frown. You reach for the salt, but before you can lick your hand, she raises it to her own mouth to wet it for you. You really don’t know what to make of her. It’s very gross, it’s very rude ..it’s very sexy.

There’s a confidence in her, that has you questioning things. The warmth of her tongue sends goosebumps right up your arm. Which, she can undoubtedly see, as you don’t have long sleeves and she’s smirking at you again. You don’t appreciate her smug little attitude. Anyone would have a physical reaction to being licked by a stranger, she has no business being arrogant about it.

You must have been stuck in place for too long, as she pours the salt onto your hand on your behalf too.

You don’t like being outdone. If she wants to play it cocky, you can match her for it. You grab the lime wedge and indicate for her to open her mouth. It catches her a little off guard, which you feel a sense of pride in, but she doesn’t back down from your challenge. She welcomes your newfound confidence, with that same little smirk from before.

You place the lime, skin-side back, in between her teeth and you lick the salt from your hand with unwavering eye contact. You down the shot, and you pull her in carefully by her neck.

Your lips brush against hers, ever so slightly, as you bite the lime between her teeth and remove it in your own. It’s a deliberate move from you, maybe you’re feeling messy tonight. You watch as she raises her fingers to her lips, and you wipe the juice again with the back of your hand. You give her a nod with another little ‘gracias’, before heading away from the bar without looking back at her.

You’re stuck on a carousel of men once you return to the centre of the club. They are all admittedly, far better looking than they were before your little trip to get drinks, but there’s still no one drawing your eye. None of them like that cocky little woman at the bar.

She wasn’t really little, she’s quite tall, actually. Had a couple inches on you, that’s for sure, and you’re not short. She was impressively tall, she had nice posture. She didn’t slouch or look uncomfortable. She was just tall, and beautiful, with that endearing little smirk on her pretty little fa— what are you doing?

You need to find yourself a man, and quick.

You’ve trapped yourself between another one and a wall, only a few minutes later, and it feels like a mistake. His hands are on your hips, his mouth is dangerously close to yours, and frankly, no amount of alcohol could make you genuinely attracted to him.

“You’re really sexy.” He slurs, his hand grazing up your body.

No, next.

It doesn’t take long to find another, his arm wrapped round your waist as he shares his drink with you. He’s cute, you’re fairly certain. He does have a moustache, which isn’t your usual cup of tea. It’s like a little caterpillar resting above his top lip, twitching as he talks to you. He drowns it slightly as he has more of his drink, and it makes you cringe as he licks at it.

It’d probably tickle if he kissed you, or leave you with a rash, the hairy little ferret on his lip.

Do you know who didn’t have a moustache? Who you wouldn’t have to work out, how not to throw up in their face, as there’s no risk of their facial hair ever getting stuck in your mouth as you kiss?

Mhmm.

Straight straight straight.

You slide out from his embrace, twirling him around to go after some other poor soul and you return to the bar.

It’s disappointing to realise she’s no longer there, not that she should be waiting around for you. She’s probably found someone less rude to spend her time with, someone more gay.

Look at the state of you, traipsing back to a bar in search of woman you don’t know because she looked at you for a second too long and now you can’t shake her from your head. How embarrassing. You’re straight. Straight straight straight.

You make your way through to the ladies’ room to splash some water on your face, and come to your senses. Of course, that’s where she’s hiding. With some new company of her own.

That shouldn’t hurt you. You don’t even know this woman’s name. You know nothing about her at all except that she’s tall, beautiful and has soft lips. Lips that are now on another woman and you’re incensed. You have no right to be angry about it, and yet, here you are.

You bash at the head of the tap, rather aggressively. Sometimes taps in nightclub restrooms don’t work, it probably needed a firm touch. It has nothing to do with you wanting to distract the woman, no no no. Because you’re straight. Straight straight straight.

You don’t need the attention of another woman, that would be ridiculous. That wouldn’t be very straight of you at all.

It doesn’t seem like your loud and theatrical washing of your hands has done anything to disturb the kiss to the side of you.

And good! You wouldn’t want to do that.

So, when you bump into them to reach for some hand towels, that’s just an accident. The fact that the tall, beautiful, soft-lipped, Spanish woman’s eyes flick to you as you dry your hands, is just an unfortunate side effect of your clumsiness.

The fact that it doesn’t stop her from kissing the other woman, however, is outrageous. Her watching you, as she’s busy with someone else? How disgusting.

Your heart shouldn’t be racing at the sight of her, your breath shouldn’t be as shallow at is, and it definitely shouldn’t be catching in your throat as the other woman kisses down her neck, and she’s still only looking at you. This isn’t attractive. This isn’t turning you on. You don’t wish it was you on her neck. There’s that infamous smirk on her face again as she stares at you. She’s unbelievable.

You throw your towels in the bin with an almighty clang as you let the lid drop back down, finally putting the other woman off her stride, and you make a swift exit back into the club.

The music’s too loud again, the smell is suffocating, all of the men are gross by comparison to the woman stuck in your head. It’s been an unsuccessful night and you’re ready to go home alone.

The hand that grabs you, has other ideas.

“You said you were straight!” She reminds you, as she pulls you outside with her.

“I am!” You tell her, still annoyed with her little antics.

“You followed me to the toilet?”

“I didn’t know you were in there!” You point out, even more annoyed with her cocky little attitude.

“You’re angry.” She tells you, smirking. “Didn’t like me kissing someone else?”

“I don’t care who you kiss!”

“No?”

“No!”

There’s a palpable tension between you both. It doesn’t make sense. You don’t know this woman. She doesn’t know you. It doesn’t matter that she kissed someone else. You were trying to kiss someone else only a minute before.

Why you’re so enraged by a woman who’s bought you two shots, getting with another woman after you walked away from her, is a question for future you. You’re not about to have an existential crisis in front of her. Questioning your identity in your mid-twenties, is absurd. You’re straight. Straight straight straight.

There’s a curiousness, to her decisions, actually. To follow you, when she already had company. To drag you outside, to where no one else is. She’s very confident about you being interested, but she’s not exactly being apathetic herself.

“Why did you leave her?” You ask.

“What?”

“You followed me,” you point out, furrowing your brow, “had a pretty girl draping herself all over you, and you left her to follow me. Why?”

You’ve clearly touched a nerve; her smirk has vanished. You can see her tongue pushing against the inside of her mouth. She’s annoyed with you.

She slowly runs her tongue under her teeth, before wetting her bottom lip with it while rolling her eyes. She doesn’t miss how your breath hitches watching her. Her smirk is back, and she moves closer to you.

“Maybe I’ll go back to her.” She threatens, and your jaw clenches slightly.

“Maybe you should!” You tell her, taking steps backwards as she approaches.

“Do you want me to?”

You collide into the wall behind you, and she places her hands on it by your head.

“No.” You confess, breathlessly.

“You said you were straight.” She repeats, her face mere inches from yours as she leans into you.

You swallow down, your pulse picking up speed.

“I am.” You insist, your eyes locking onto her mouth. “I..”

“Do you want me to go?”

“No.”

“What do you want me to do?” She questions knowingly, that all too familiar smirk, taking over her face. She tilts her head, impossibly close to yours. You can smell the lime that lingers on her lips, feel her breath that softly blows against you, but she still doesn’t let you have what you want.

“Are you going to make me beg for it?” You groan, leaning backwards into the wall as far as you can.

“Maybe.” She tells you.

You hate her holding all the cards like this. She has you like putty in her hands. She’s all cocky and in control. Who does she think she is?

You’re better than this. You’re not shy around people you fancy. You may have been caught in a pointless relationship for far too long, but you’re a catch, people are into you. This woman right here, is into you. You don’t need to be nervous with her, it doesn’t mean anything. You’re straight. Straight straight straight. It could be the worst kiss of your life, and why should you care?

You slink your arm up behind her neck, closing the distance between you even further, and her eyelids flutter shut.

“I’m not going to.” You inform her, emboldened by her reaction to you. You duck out from under her arms, blowing her a kiss as you walk back inside. To find a man to take you home. You’re straight. Straight straight straight.

It doesn’t take you long at all to find another man to wear around you. One with glasses on. No, he’s not attractive. No, you don’t want to go home with him. But he’s here, he’s a man, and he isn’t driving you quite as crazy as the woman you keep running into. It’s simple, it’s easy, it’s hassle free. It’s exactly what you came for, you’re ready to go.

________________

Waking up in unfamiliar sheets, is something you haven’t done in a while. You’re quietly proud of yourself. The sheets smell nice, your hangover headache isn’t half as bad as you thought it would be, and there’s a pleasurable little ache between your legs that tells you that, whatever happened last night, you more than enjoyed yourself.

You wriggle a little under the covers and take a peek to confirm that you are indeed, completely naked. Your eyes are allowed to trail the body next to you. You’ve had sex with it, you’re more than entitled.

You really don’t remember which man it was you left with. There was the one with the glasses, the tall one with the mullet, the man with the moustache, the unfortunate gentleman with the incorrectly placed toupee.

He’s probably the one you’d most be upset about seeing next to you. Not that he didn’t seem friendly enough, but he really wasn’t the attractive stranger you were hunting for.

You risk another quick peek under the covers and your eyes all but bug out of your head. No no nonononono. You pull the covers back down and shut your eyes, trying to remember what the hell went wrong. You had countless semi-attractive men all over you. How the hell?

You peek again. Maybe you’re seeing things. Your hungover little brain playing tricks on you.

No.

That’s definitely not a man’s body. It’s far too beautiful. It’s toned, smooth, sculpted by the gods themselves. You want to put your tongue on it. You probably already have had your tongue on it. Who knows what you’ve done to it, what it’s done to you. How the hell did you go home with a woman?

“Are you enjoying the view?” The voice outside of the covers asks, and you roll yourself over under the sheets away from her.

You’d recognise that accent anywhere. That cocky little tone to her voice. That insufferable Spanish woman from the bar. That tall, beautiful, soft-lipped, Spanish walking-headache, took you home, and had her way with you? You? When you’re straight? Straight straight straight.

The ache in between your legs, the dull satisfaction running through your body, and you have her to thank for it?

It’s a dream. It’s a nightmare. It’s a horrible, twisted little trick, that, if you keep your eyes closed to, maybe it will all disappear around you and you’ll wake up again next to a man. A gross, sweaty little man, with too much hair on his face and not enough on the top of his head.

There’s a snicker from outside of the covers and you let out a huff, as she taps at your body.

“What?” You grumble, making no effort to free yourself from the sheets you’ve cocooned yourself in.

You can feel her shimmy herself closer to you and you hold your hand behind you to stop her.

“No!” You tell her, quite firmly, as her torso connects with your fingertips. Her toned torso. Her taut, muscly torso that your fingers have somehow now spread out over. You can feel her breathing against your palm. She hasn’t edged any closer to you after your outburst, and you regret telling her off so soon.

You’d quite like her pressed up against you, if that’s what she wants to do. Maybe you were too hasty, too rude. You can still feel the shortness of her breath against your hand. You’re being inappropriate, touching her like this. You slowly remove your hand from her, still hovering it pretty close.

You reach back for her arm, trailing your fingers down it until you meet with her hand, and you pull it around you. You’re not entirely sure what’s possessing you, you just want to feel her on your skin. She doesn’t need much encouragement to nestle into you, and it’s definitely not a man’s body.

You tangle your fingers with hers over your stomach, leaning into her. She has nice hands. Hands that are quite a bit bigger than yours, it’s no wonder you have an ache.

She removes the covers from over your head, instantly placing her lips to your neck. It’s very easy to forget yourself with her mouth on you, it’s no real surprise she managed to trick you into coming back to hers at all. She frees her fingers from yours, moving her hand down your body, and you put up no resistance to her. You encourage it, if anything, moving yourself to make it easier.

It’s nothing like having a man between your legs. There’s no needless grunting above you, no mindless grabbing, or endless showboating. You don’t need to make excessive noises to boost her ego. She just really knows what she’s doing with her fingers. She has every right to be cocky with herself.

Maybe this is just what it is to be with a woman. Maybe they just know, it’s the same parts, after all. Maybe it’s an inherent knowledge that all women possess, but only a select few ever get to experience. Lucky them.

Lucky you.

You are still being quite loud with her inside of you. It’s not for her benefit, it just really feels very good. You grip at her head behind you, running your fingers down the back of her neck, and you bite at your other hand to mute your sound effects, to stop giving her quite so much satisfaction with herself. You can see that smug little smirk on her face, it’s impossible to know if it’s still annoying or just incredibly sexy. It’s a very thin line with this woman.

It’s hard to keep still with her going to work on you the way she is. You find yourself rolling back over into her and she welcomes you, easily capturing your lips with hers. Like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

They are very nice lips, they do taste nice, and it’s not the first time you’ve kissed them.

Memories of the night come flooding back in.

________________

“I can take you back to mine?” The man wearing glasses offers.

“Perfect!” You reply, all too eager to get out of this frustrating little situation you’ve found yourself in. He places his cup on the nearest table, and winks at you, before leading you to the door.

Again, the hand that grabs you, has other ideas.

“You’re not leaving with him!” She tells you in no uncertain terms, as she holds you firmly in place.

“You can’t tell me what to do! Who the hell do you think you are?” She doesn’t give in, and as you turn to find the man, he’s already wandered off without you. “Are you joking? What’s your problem?”

You’re absolutely furious with the woman, she has no right to ruin your plans like this. You shake her off of you and head back to the bar, but she shadows you closely.

“You can fuck right off, following me about!”

“You’re really very angry.” She tells you, rather amused at your attitude. “Why, because I didn’t let you leave with some gross man?”

“He was cute!”

“He was about 50!”

That can’t be right.

He had glasses on, sure, but so do lots of people in their twenties. He had ..greying hair. Slightly less common, perhaps, but he had been cute.

Hadn’t he?

“Fuck!”

You rub your fingers over your forehead, trying to erase him from your mind, as the woman continues smirking at you.

“You can wipe that smug look off your face, right now!” You warn her and she chuckles to herself.

“Do you want another drink?”

“..Please.”

You down another round of shots together, being inappropriate with the salt and limes again. There’s an incredible amount of confidence in you. Whether it’s your new disdain for this woman, the fact that you’re unlikely to be going home with someone you’ll be happy waking up next to, or just the alcohol flooding your system, who can tell, but it’s a confidence that you’re more than willing to embrace.

You order another round of drinks and lick her collarbone ready to pour the salt on to. Her eyebrow quirks at you, but she doesn’t stop you doing it. She readies the lime in her mouth, as you down the tequila, and she pierces it with her teeth for you, dripping the juice into your mouth from hers up above.

It’s a very weird mating call from her, and it’s 100% effective. You grab her hand and lead her back to the hallway between the toilets. You bury your head in her neck as the moustache walks past you both, and you open the door to the smoking area to see if anyone’s about. No one is, so you pull her outside with you.

“Why are we back here?” She asks, that smug smile still tattooed on her lips.

“I feel more sober in fresh air.”

“Mm? You’re very drunk.”

“You’re very drunk!”

“Maybe, but at least I’m not on a ridiculous hunt for a man!”

“It’s not ridiculous, it’s meticulous!” You tell her, giggling slightly at your accidental rhyme. “I’m looking for a very specific man, preferably a good looking one, in his twenties.”

“Really? You didn’t seem too worried, that a man in his twenties was actually a man in his fifties!” She points out.

“Mm. I don’t know that I’m particularly worried about a man in his twenties ..being a woman in her twenties either.” You tell her with a rather casual shrug as you head to one of the tables. You sit yourself up on it, looking back at the woman who gives you a knowing little smile.

“You’re not very straight, are you?” She asks sarcastically.

“I really am.” You sigh, rolling your eyes. “I’ve never been with a woman, never wanted to be. I’ve only just got out of a long-term relationship with a man. I’ve only ever wanted to be with men.”

“Mm?” She mumbles, moving over to you slowly. She carefully pushes your knees apart and stands in between them, looking down at you. “I’m not a man.” She reminds you, and you trap your bottom lip between your teeth.

“Maybe I don’t want you.”

“Mm?” She places a curved finger under your chin, tilting your head and bringing your mouths very close together. “Tell me you don’t.”

There’s a feeling in your stomach at her challenge, a feeling lower than your stomach at her challenge. You do want her, and you’re not a good enough liar to pretend that you don’t.

“I can’t..” You admit, and she smiles again, before removing herself from you. You let out a frustrated little sigh as she moves backwards, and you swing your legs back together. “You want me too!” You tell her and she tilts her head to the side.

“Who told you that?”

“Tell me you don’t.”

“..I can’t.” She admits, and maybe her cocky little smirk has found its way onto your face.

You jump down from the tabletop and lean back against it, nibbling at the inside of your mouth. She casually walks back over to you, resting her hand on your hip.

It’s far less offensive than gentleman number 6’s grazing of your body. You don’t feel the need to push her away at all. She leans back into you, tucking your hair behind your ear. It sends a little tingle right down the side of your neck, and she smirks again at your reaction. You can’t not roll your eyes at her incessant need to be arrogant. She rubs her thumb across your cheek and over your mouth, pulling down on your lower lip gently.

“Do you want me to kiss you?”

“Yes.”

“Yes ..what?” She asks, and she’s ruined the moment. You shake your head at her chuckling lightly.

“If you don’t want to kiss me, it’s fine, we don’t have to. I’m not going to beg you for it.” You tilt your head, brushing her nose with yours. “Do you want to kiss me?” She nods silently, and you wink at her. “Looks like we’re both missing out then!”

You slip out from between her and the table and make your way over to the door.

“Where are you going?”

“To find a man to take me home! I’m straight!”

You can hear her cocky little laugh as you head back into the club, and it sends a little thrill right through your body.

This bizarre game of cat and mouse continues between you both for a little while longer. You keep buying each other shots, drinking them in more obscene ways every time. You back each other into walls, threatening to kiss each other, before one of you walks away, and the whole process repeats itself.

It’s getting harder to compose yourself after each round of shots. You really do just want her to kiss you, you’ve had enough of fighting it, but you also don’t want her to have the satisfaction of you caving in. It’s a ruthless little battle that you’ve found yourself in. She’s incredibly competitive.

You have to commit. Genuinely find yourself a man. It shouldn’t be hard. There’s lots of them about, and you’re more drunk now than you’ve been all night. You’re embarrassingly easy prey.

You survey your surroundings, hoping for one decent looking man to catch your eye. It’s a truly talentless night. You find yourself grimacing slightly realising that all of your friends have already left the place. Some of them will definitely regret their choices in the morning.

As will you, if you don’t manage to get at least one kiss from this godforsaken woman.

“Looking for me?” She asks as she sidles on next to you, leaning against the wall.

“I’m looking for a man! I’ve already told you this.”

“Well ..there’s one there.” She tells you, gesturing to a random fellow in the corner. ��There’s another there.” She points out. “There. There. The—”

“I get it, thanks. You have terrible taste in men.”

“I don’t have any taste in men.” She reminds you. “I have pretty impeccable taste in women.”

“Mm? Well, which one takes your fancy?” You ask. “There’s one over there. There ..there. Th—”

She grabs your pointed finger and turns it back towards you. It’s not a new answer, so god knows why you’re blushing at it.

“Then kiss me.” You tell her, little louder than a whisper. “Just kiss me, for fuc—”

She’s clearly had enough too. Maybe it was the tiredness in your voice, the obvious look of defeat in your eyes. Maybe she just doesn’t like you swearing. You’re not going to question it. Her lips are finally on yours, and she was definitely worth the wait. It ignites a spark in you, it sends your tipsy little mind fully into orbit, and she’s the only other person in the room with you.

There’s no sense of desperation in the kiss. It’s not messy, or chaotic. It’s deliberate from her, considered. There’s an air of caution perhaps, a worry that you’ll pull away from her. You’re straight, after all. Maybe she’s nervous that your certainty in wanting a kiss will waver now that she’s finally given you what you want. Maybe you’ve realised that you don’t actually want it.

It’s a new experience for you, surprisingly different from kissing a man, but it’s not one you want to pull away from. It’s not one you want to rush. It’s not one you really want to end at all. You can sense her apprehension, and it’s the first time that she’s had no snark. It’s not a cocky little kiss. She’s not doing it to get it over and done with. It’s not going to end with her smirking at you, like she’s done you a favour. It isn’t meaningless.

It’s tentative, and frankly, you’ve had enough of her carefulness. If she needs a sign that you’re not going anywhere, that you want her to keep kissing you, you’ll find a way to do that. Your tongue parts her lips, and the gasp you elicit is all the confirmation you need of her nerves. It’s endearing to have her be quite so vulnerable with you.

You deepening the kiss is clearly all the confirmation she needs that everything’s fair game, because she wastes no time in escalating the intensity. She clings to you, wrapping her arm around your waist, her hand gripping at your hip, the other cradling your jaw. She backs you up against the wall and muffles the moan that escapes you with your joined lips.

Her tongue dances with yours, and you let her take over all your senses. It’s just a kiss, and yet it’s like a journey to a whole new world. It’s entirely all-consuming, the rest of existence has melted to nothingness around you. You don’t care where you are, you don’t care who’s watching. Or do you?

Maybe there is a mild sense of urgency to it, because kissing is simply not enough. You need to have her closer, impossibly close. You need her, entirely, and regardless of how much you’re craving the feeling of her, you do still care about where that happens.

“Are you local?” You ask, breaking the kiss to catch your breath. She only gives a silent nod in reply. “I’m like ..20 minutes by taxi?”

“My hotel’s closer than that.”

“So ..back to yours?”

“Are you sure?” She asks, searching your eyes for any sense of reluctance. She’s unlikely to find any, but you nod, assertively, just to reaffirm. “I’m not taking you back to mine to ..play cards?” She double-checks with you and you chuckle, resting your forehead to hers.

“No, I’m sort of counting on that.” You tell her. “Unless you don’t wa—”

She cuts you off with a kiss again. There was no swearing this time, no tiredness or look of defeat. Maybe she just likes kissing you.

“Are you absolutely sure?” She asks again, because she’s polite, and underneath all her cocky annoyingness, she really is very sweet.

“Oh my god.” You sigh. You do still find yourself rolling your eyes, you don’t know how much more obvious you need to be with her. “..please.”

The rush back to her hotel room is fun, you feel like a teenager all over again. Waltzing through the streets of London, your hand interlaced with an attractive stranger’s, the promise of sex hanging in the air.

It doesn’t matter that it’s a woman you’re linked up with. That doesn’t mean anything. It’s a one-time little indulgence. An experiment, for research purposes. To find out what it is your sister’s been going so crazy over, ever since she was a teenager.

It doesn’t mean anything when she keeps kissing you against the walls of closed buildings. It doesn’t mean anything when you pull her back into you at the entrance of her hotel. Yes, it’s nice. It’s enjoyable. It steals the air right from your lungs every single time, but that doesn’t mean anything. How could it, when you’re straight? Straight straight straight.

You do keep your hands off each other when you get to the lift of the hotel, there’s an older woman in there with you, and you’re not about to put on a show for her. Not for free.

Maybe your eyes keep meeting too much, or the smirking is too obvious. Maybe you do keep touching once or twice, because something’s definitely giving you both away.

“Lesbians?” The older woman asks, with a very clear disdain.

“Hm? For tonight.” You reply with a nod, unperturbed by her demeanour. Your Spanish host shakes her head at you, smiling as she looks up at the ceiling.

You’ve dealt with a few homophobes in your time. Your sister isn’t exactly subtle with her identity. It welcomes dirty looks, offensive words, and you’ve never been one to shy away from protecting her. You’ve never had to defend yourself against prejudice, but she’s not exactly an intimidating woman. You could easily take her if she tries to raise her hand.

“It’s disgusting.” She mutters under her breath, and her unsupportive attitude is sort of spurring you on.

“Do you think?” You ask. “What’s so disgusting about it?”

“Two women. It’s a waste.”

“Oof. I am not about to let her go to waste, don’t you worry about that at all, madam.” You reassure her, offering a friendly smile that earns you a very angry look in reply.

You don’t miss the smirk that graces the taller woman’s face next to you in the mirror, and that’s all the encouragement you need.

“It’s not natural!” The older woman tells you, and you nod your head slowly back at her. “It’s disgusting!”

“You’re very annoyed about it.” You point out. “It’s a bit unnecessary, no?”

“I think you’re both disgusting!” She hisses at you again.

“Oh dear.” You lean back against the bar of the elevator, as the older woman stares you down. “That’s an incredible argument you’ve put forward. I think I’ve seen the light!”

She not at all impressed by your relaxed sarcasm, you’re clearly getting on her nerves. Your lack of remorse, the fact you’re not begging for her forgiveness.

“I think it—”

“You think it’s disgusting, madam. We get it.” You interrupt, a little bit tired of her insistence. “Don’t spend your evening with another woman, then. We’re not inviting you to join us, so you can calm down.” You tell her, moving back towards the Spanish woman behind you.

She wraps her arm around your waist instantly and you lean into her touch. It’s comforting, subtle. It’s a very casual display of support without silencing you, without fighting over you.

She’s not dramatically shouting at the other woman; she’s not emasculated by you doing all the talking. She’s not making empty threats or getting up in the other woman’s face.

She’s not reacting at all in the way you’ve come to expect. The way that he probably would, to someone questioning him. Not that your ex ever defended your sister’s honour with you, but he certainly enjoyed getting into a scrap when he felt threatened.

It’s very attractive from her, actually, to just silently remind you that she’s there if you need her. That she’s with you, she does have your back, and you’d kiss her right there on the mouth if the woman opposite wasn’t glaring at you quite so intently.

Maybe you should kiss her regardless. There’s only a few more floors left till the old bat gets off. What’s she going to do, slap you both for some pda? There’s a security camera in here, she wouldn’t be so stupid.

Perhaps you can control yourself for a couple more floors, you don’t need to provoke the bastard woman. So what if she’s an unfavourable little witch, she’s not ruining your evening, you’re not going to let her.

Well, if that’s your logic, why should you let her stop you from kissing the woman when you want to? What courtesy do you owe to her? If she’s that upset about it, she’ll have to either avert her eyes like a petulant little child, or stop off at the floor below and hope she doesn’t choke on her bigotry when walking the rest of the way up. You don’t care.

Thankfully, neither does the Spanish beauty who matches your energy and kisses you back with the same fervour you’re showing her.

You’re instantly entirely unbothered by the third wheel once there’s an extra tongue back in your mouth, her Spanish hands on your face. You don’t care at all how uncomfortable you’re making the old bint. Frankly, you hope her eyes are burning at the sight of you both.

She doesn’t let you enjoy your moment for too long. Of course she doesn’t, the dark-sided little mare. She barges past you both as the doors open and she spits at the floor in front of you. The absolute nerve. She expectorates in the lift inside of a nice hotel, and you’re the disgusting ones? Absolutely not. You’re seeing red. You really could take her, you’ve been to a gym more than once or twice in your life, you’re not weak.

“You revolting little bi—”

The hand that grabs you, has other ideas.

“Let her go!” She tells you, laughing as she spins you back round to face her. “Por favor, she’s not worth it!”

“She spat at us! That dirty little cu—”

She kisses you again. Maybe she really does hate your swearing. Her lips are distracting, though, and you don’t mind learning that that’s one surefire way to get them back on yours.

“She really was a hateful bitch.” You murmur between kisses, and the Spaniard giggles against you.

“You’re a very angry straight girl.” She tells you, pushing your hair back off your face. “You don’t like homophobes?”

“Do you?” You ask, frowning at the woman in front of you.

“No,” she admits with a chuckle, “I’d have probably just let her get on with it quietly, though. Didn’t feel the need to anger her more!”

“I’m sorry for embarrassing you.”

“You didn’t, I’d have backed you if she kept going.”

There’s that sexy little smirk again. It shouldn’t do things to you the way it does. It shouldn’t set your whole body on fire. A small curve to her lips, and you want to rip her clothes off? You’re very tragic.

You drag your eyes away from her and scan the floor number you’re on.

“Bloody hell!” You sigh. “Did you really have to book a room on the highest bloody floor? I get it, you’re rich ..but fuck me!”

You drum out your frustrations on the handrail of the lift, it’s slow ascent through the floors seemingly never-ending.

“Are you sobering up?” She asks, and you nod at her, still tapping your hands. “Are you changing your mind?”

You stop your little percussive performance and turn back to face her.

“You’re very convinced that I’m going to back out?”

“I just want you to know that you can.”

It’s genuine from her. It’s not a perverse attempt at guilt tripping, she’s not trying some weird technique of reverse psychology. She genuinely wants you to know that it’s okay if you’re not ready. If your own act of confidence, is exactly that, just an act.

You take her hand and pull her back towards you. She rests her hands on the rail behind you and you lean in very close.

“Do you want me to?” You ask, and she shakes her head. You tilt her face to meet her eyes and you kiss the corner of her mouth. “Well, okay then, and neither do I.” You tell her quietly, your lips feathering hers. “So know, that until I revoke it, you have my consent ..to do whatever.”

“Careful,” she warns, “I might take you up on that.”

It earns you a deep kiss, and another cheeky smirk. There’s exhilaration shooting through your body and this goddamn endless journey through the sky is entirely unbearable.

“It’s very cute, that your hotel is so close to the bar, but it really would’ve been quicker to just go back to mine!” You point out, patting at her hands behind you.

“I’m sorry, it wasn’t me that booked it.”

That’s very cryptic. What on earth is that supposed to mean?

“Please don’t tell me your girlfriend’s waiting for you in there.” You tell her, narrowing your eyes as you await an explanation.

“No, it’s a ..business trip.”

That’s still very cryptic.

“A business trip? What do you do for a living?”

“I can’t tell you that.”

“No?” You chuckle, arching an eyebrow. “Are you a spy?”

She laughs back at you, shaking her head. “No,” she assures you, “but it’s too personal.”

“Too personal? We’re not allowed to know each other’s careers?”

She shakes her head, and you find yourself smiling slightly with narrowed eyes. It’s very intriguing. If she wants you to be less interested in her, that wasn’t the way to play it.

“So, I’m guessing, I’m also not allowed to even know your name?” You check.

“A.”

“A?” You chuckle, nodding your head. “That’s a very beautiful name!” You tell her, your hand resting on her chest as you push her away from you. “There’s no way your parents were that lazy!”

“It’s my initial.” She tells you, rolling her eyes with that classic little smirk, as she pulls you back with her across to the other side of the elevator. “My first name starts with A.”

“And that’s all you’re giving me?” You ask, resting your hands on the railing behind her as she nods her head. “You really don’t want me to find you after tonight?” You question her, with your tongue tracing the bottom of your teeth. “Haven’t even been with me yet, and you already know you won’t want a repeat?”

She dips her head to kiss you again, and your hands grip at the bar behind her. You pull yourself in towards her, desperate to be closer, and she cradles your head in her hand.

“It’s not that,” she tells you gently, “but I go home tomorrow.”

Shit. That shouldn’t be so surprising to you. She has a thick Spanish accent, she’s staying in a luxury hotel, paid for by a company on her behalf. Of course she isn’t staying in London for very long. What happened to your exceptional detective skills? How did you not work that one out?

“Fuck.” Is all that falls out of your mouth as you pull yourself back from the woman.

“I’m sorry..” she offers, but you shake your head with a heavy sigh.

“No, I should have realised.” You tell her, nibbling at the inside of your mouth.

It’s a bummer, certainly. There’s something between you both. Whether it’s just a physical attraction, a sexual desire, who knows? But it’s there. You can feel it, and you’re positive that she can too. It doesn’t have to be anything deeper than that. That would mean you really did need to do some introspective work on yourself moving forward.

She’s just a woman. The one woman. The world’s most beautiful woman, who’s turned your world upside down, in a matter of hours. Who bought you a drink, that left you confused. That kissed another woman, and left you annoyed. Who refused to let you leave with a random ancient bastard and has saved you from spending a fundamentally flawed night with a limp-dicked disappointment.

And tomorrow she’ll be gone. You only have tonight with her.

You can walk, she’s already told you that. You can turn around now, and not let yourself fall any deeper. Save yourself the pain of a perfect night that you’ll never be able to repeat. Save yourself from spending the rest of your life chasing an experience you can never recreate with someone else.

It’d be hard enough to find her in London. It’ll be impossible to track her down in Spain.

Leave her now, with just the mind-numbing kisses to haunt you for all eternity. Don’t give your soul to a woman you’ll never see again. Don’t let her steal your heart away with her. Don’t ruin a life of enjoying mediocre sex for yourself.

The elevator rings out, signalling your arrival at her floor and you stay rooted to the spot as she slowly makes her exit. She looks back at you, a sad smile replacing her arrogant one.

“I understand.” She tells you, as she disappears down the hall.

You don’t understand. You don’t understand at all why your body feels so drawn to this woman. Why your mind, your heart, your soul are so desperate for you to chase after her. It can only spell trouble for you. One kiss with her sent your head spinning. Anything more than that will undoubtedly result in irreparable damage. How do you recover from that? How do you move on? How do you let yourself make any other meaningful connections with someone after feeling so intoxicated by a woman you know absolutely nothing about?

It isn’t possible for you to feel this way. It doesn’t make any sense. Even if you weren’t straight. Straight straight straight. How the hell can you fall for someone, when you don’t even have the luxury of knowing her first name? You don’t know what she does, you don’t know who she is. She could be an evil mastermind. A dark-sided villain who does terrible things, all the way over in Spain.

Don’t follow her. It’s foolish. It’ll be the worst mistake of your life. A night you can’t take back. An act you can’t undo.

The doors start to close in front of you, and you wedge your foot in between to stop them. You’re an idiot. A damn blasted fool.

But how could you not go after her? How can you not chase after the rush she sends through you? It’s dangerous, it’s messy, but you want her. Even though it’s just for a night. You can’t walk away from a feeling this strong. A yearning so powerful every cell in your body is screaming out for it.

She’s annoying. Frustrating. Beautiful. Enticing. There’s something, and you can’t very well just turn around and walk the other way.

You follow her into the hallway of her floor, and she turns back to face you.

“I thoug—”

“I didn’t revoke.” You tell her, shaking your head as you walk towards her. “I didn’t come up all this way to play cards, and I certainly didn’t come up all this way to go straight back bloody down again!”

She chuckles at you, shaking her head.

“And tomorrow?”

“We’ll deal with that then.” You tell her. “If it’s only meant to be one incredible night, then so be it.”

“You think it’ll be incredible?” She asks, the smirk tugging at her lips.

“With you? ..yes.”

The smirk morphs into a full smile. One that reaches her eyes. One that transforms her whole beautiful face into the most breathtaking radiance as she beams back down at you.

“And what if it’s awful?” She chuckles.

“Then I’ll be packing your bags for you to go in the morning.”

She takes a step to close the distance between you and pulls you in for a slow deep kiss.

“Are you absolutely su—”

“For fuck’s sake!” You whisper, crashing your head to her shoulder to chuckle against her neck. “Yes! I’m sure! I’m very bloody certain, I want you to take me to your room. Yes!”

“Yes ..what?”

She’s incredibly frustrating. Just wilfully annoying. Childish, pathetic, addictive, perfect. She’s everything. She’s absolutely everything.

“Please.”

________________

You don’t hate this woman. She didn’t trick you into bed at all. There’s affection between you, a fondness. It wasn’t a drunken night of angry passion. It was intimate, careful, experimental. Perfect.

You have a desperate need for this woman you’re wrapped up in. A want to have her close, to keep her with you forever. An impossible request. An unattainable, hopeless little prayer.

“You’re leaving today.” You remind her, panting slightly as she calms you from your high.

“I did tell you that.” She whispers, her fingers trailing your stomach.

“I know, I just ..it just hit me.”

You look back to her, and there’s a sadness in her eyes that you can only imagine you’re reflecting back at her with yours. You stroke your thumb over her cheek and lean in for a kiss. It’s soft, impossibly gentle. It’s the most painful way to say goodbye.

“I should go,” you tell her, “my sister will be wondering where I am. Wondering what ..man I hooked up with.” You chuckle a little pulling yourself out of her embrace.

“What will you tell her?”

“He was beautiful.” You admit. “Foreign.. Italian, I think.”

She laughs to the side of you, leaning back over towards you as she shakes her head. She places a kiss on your shoulder, lighting a tiny fire with her mouth.

“I don’t want you to go.” She tells you, placing more kisses to your shoulder, your collarbone, your lips.

You don’t want to go either, not when she’s igniting an inferno inside of your body like this. It’s cruel, it’s sadistic. It’s the perfect way to say goodbye.

“What time’s your flight?” You ask, with a mild desperation to your voice.

“Not till this evening.”

“Do you have to be anywhere else today?”

“Not till this afternoon.”

“So, we still have the rest of the morning?”

“Mhmm.”

“It probably wouldn’t be the worst thing ..if I was late back home.”

“No?”

“Unless you’re kicking me out?”

She has no intention of doing that, as well you know. She straddles herself on top of you, and your heart starts racing again. Her body on full display in front of you. The most beautiful body. She’s in incredible shape. It’d be more intimidating to you, if she hadn’t repeatedly told you how beautiful she thinks you are last night. You’re not in terrible shape yourself, but you definitely felt the need to tense more to give yourself some sort of definition. Her abs are just naturally on full display without any effort from her at all.

“You’re very beautiful.” You tell her, taking her in. “You have very beautiful ..eyes.”

“My eyes are up here.” She tells you, pointedly.

“Mhmm. Very beautiful.” You repeat, ignoring her little biology lesson as you trace your fingers over her curves.

She traps her tongue between her teeth as she smiles down at you, before leaning back in for a bruising kiss.

“You might be my favourite straight girl.” She tells you, and you roll your eyes.

“Might be?” You ask, feigning offence as you push her back up.

“You’re in the top three.” She tells you, smirking.

“Woww.” You draw out sarcastically. “That’s very charitable of you, thanks.”

She chuckles to herself, collapsing back down to run her lips across your chest. She starts trailing lower, and you can tell where she’s heading. She’s already seen to you once this morning, she’s done more than enough. You’d like to repay the favour. Frankly, you could do with a rest.

You grip at her thighs to flip her over, and the smile on her face as you do, has you kicking yourself for not doing it sooner.

“Are you okay?” She asks as your eyes roam over her face.

“Mhmm.” You nod. “I remember ..really enjoying something last night.” You admit, a little cautiously.

“Yeah? I remember you enjoying it too.”

“Did ..did you enjoy it?”

“Mhmm.” She murmurs, and you can feel her body shifting beneath you. “You’re very good with your tongue.”

“Really?” You ask, a little too enthusiastically, as a tiny thrill courses right through you. You have to fight every instinct not to wet your own lips with it as she nods, that small smirk coming back into view. “Did it feel good?”

“Yes.”

“You tasted good.” You breathe, clenching your jaw slightly.

“Are you still claiming to be straight?” She chuckles, her eyebrow arching.

“Mm.” You laugh, collapsing back into her for a kiss. “It’s hanging by a thread.” You admit, smiling into her as her lips move against yours. “Do you want me to?” You ask, a knowing look on your face.

“Yes.” She admits, her back arching as she readjusts herself for you.

“Yes ..what?”

She shakes her head, with a disbelieving smile. Maybe you’re in love with this stranger. Maybe she feels it too.

“..Please.” She whispers, and you don’t need asking twice.

________________

The walk back to the elevator, has no reason being as painful as it is. Even after a morning together between the sheets, a shared shower before a very late breakfast. You’ve still only known this woman a little over 12 hours. You’ve learnt absolutely nothing about her personal life, who she is, why she’s here, whether she’ll ever be back. She knows nothing about you. It isn’t right for there to be a connection between you, when you have no fundamental knowledge of each other. You could have literally nothing in common, and your heart’s tearing itself in two at the thought of her leaving for another country.

Neither of you want to say goodbye to each other. That much is obvious as you tangle your fingers with hers and stare at the button for the lift. Both elevators are on the bottom floor, you’ll still have a few minutes together even if you request it now. You can’t draw an eternity out of a few minutes, but you can savour them. It’s like setting a little timer for you as you press the button. The lift starts its ascension up the floors and the seconds you still have together start to decrease.

“This is insane.” You admit to her, your eyes beginning to sting. “I shouldn’t hate leaving you this much, I don’t even know who you are!”

“I know.” She tells you, with the same shaky breath as you.

She pulls you into her embrace and you cling to the fabric of her sweatshirt for dear life. She’s given you one of her sweatshirts, to stop you looking too dishevelled as you do the walk of shame back home. It’s a bit oversized on you, and she told you you looked adorable when you had to roll the sleeves up a couple times to free your hands.

You sort of wish she’d stop being so sweet to you. Go back to being the annoying woman that had her lips on someone else. Go back to being the weirdly confusing woman with the salt and the limes. Do anything to make saying goodbye to each other just a tiny bit more bearable.

“Imagine if you weren’t straight,” she whispers to the side of your head, “imagine the breakdown you’d be having then!”

She’s an idiot, and it does manage to make you laugh, as warm tears escape your eyes, and you bury your head further into her neck.

She’s not straight, you remember. So, maybe it’s a subtle confession of her own struggle she’s having with you parting ways. She is holding you impossibly tight, like you’ll disappear from right in front of her in a puff of smoke, if she loosens her grip even slightly.

The elevator seems to be soaring through the levels without any people in it. It’s a far more rapid process than it was when it was holding the pair of you hostage last night. That isn’t fair. Who designed that?

“It’s going to be the longest journey of my life going back down without you.” You mumble against her.

“Hopefully you don’t bump into your best friend on the way!”

“For fuck’s sake!” You laugh, pulling yourself from her and wiping at your eyes with your sleeve. “That evil cow!” You let out a sigh and shake your head. “She’ll be fine with me today, to be fair. I’m straight again now!”

“Oh, of course! You can agree with each other about it being disgusting, then!”

“Mm. I mean ..we did do some pretty disgusting things to each other.” You remind her smugly.

“I’m sure she’ll appreciate you giving her all the details.” She winks, and you grin as you pull her back into a hug.

“I really enjoyed it.” You confess to her, quietly. “I really enjoyed being with you.”

“Me too.”

The ding of the elevator signals that your time is up. The moment you’ve been dreading, has finally arrived. You head straight in. You don’t know if it’s better to get a clean break, or prolong the inevitable for as long as possible. The doors start closing, and her foot appears in the gap to keep you for a moment longer.

She fists her hands in her sweatshirt you’re wearing and kisses you across the threshold. It’s one that catches you off guard, but you match the passion in it as soon as you realise what’s happening. The doors try closing on you a few times, but you keep blocking them with a hand. You’re not letting them steal your moment.

She breaks the kiss but keeps her grip on you. You can see the tears in her eyes, feel the ones in yours. It’s ridiculous. You catch one with your thumb as it starts to roll down her cheek and you place a kiss to where you broke its fall.

“If you’re ever back in London..” you tell her, a small smirk on your face, “just ask around for my initial. I’m sure someone will lead you back to me!”

“I’ll have to try.” She tells you earnestly, letting go of your sweatshirt and smoothing it back down for you.

“I really need to go. It’s not possible to make this any easier.” You tell her, pushing her back as the doors start their final closing attempt. “Don’t forget me!”

“I won’t remember anything else.” She tells you, as the doors close, and neither of you have chance to change your minds.

It shouldn’t hurt like this. It was a one-night stand. They’re not rare. The pair of you crying after a single night together? That’s rare. That’s ridiculous.

Collapsing in on yourself as you try to catch your breath without her? That’s insanity.

The tears flow freely as you hold yourself up against the side of the elevator. You pull the neckline of her sweatshirt up over your nose and breathe her in. Playing make believe in your head, that she’s still with you. It’s a souvenir you’ll treasure. A living memory. Proof that it wasn’t a dream, and it certainly wasn’t a nightmare. It was your perfect little night, wrapped up with the world’s most perfect woman. The woman who’s running off back to Spain with your heart in her hand luggage.

All this longing, this desire, this love, for a woman that you barely know. A woman you have no hope in ever finding again. A woman you’ve fallen head over heels for, despite being straight. Straight straight straight.

#woso x reader #alexia putellas x reader #woso imagine #alexia putellas imagine

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