#and it pisses off the others when they go to check on him only to have a bomb blow up in their faces too haha
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Adding on for Danny’s support rats.
They are usually in hoodie pockets, or the hood of his hoodie. He does have one on his shoulder (who varies).
As Phantom his rats get caught up in his transformation and the first time he was horrified he killed them.
Frostbite and other IR doctors confirm he packbonded to them on both sides to the liminal rats that they can shift forms. In shifted form they are functionally blob ghosts.
Phantom is open about his service blobs and said blobs are PISSED when questioned about being with Their Ghost. Let the blobs be legit more dangerous than Phantom when defending their obsession (Phantom’s health) and have that be a ‘wait a minute, why do you, a ghost, need support blobs?’ And be a domino for a lot of the Fenton Research on Ghosts and how ghosts interact with one another and the living.
Notably the usually peaceful blobs only going after whoever questions their presence with phantom… who does admit they are his support animals and it’s rude to ask what they’re for. Especially given how many mortals are team End Ghosts.
Let Wes be the one reporting this live and be annoyed Phantom will do interviews with him. But not regular media outlets as ‘you don’t give off the vibes of bleeds, leads. So lower live dissection chances!’
And if seeing phantom with his support animals and Cujo forces a lot of Amity to starting making ‘disabled dead teen is protecting our city from other ghosts. The fuck?’ Well.
Someone gently asks Phantom why he does? Ina Live with Wes? ‘Oh, uh. Very personal but the closest thing i have to a grave is what they’re using to here. So it’s sort of like constantly having chest bursters and then they go around wrecking things and hurting people because they don’t take earth etiquette classes or slept through them. So fight until they get it—which some do! Johnny and Kitty don’t break shit anymore unless someone else starts it, and Ember agreed to can the mind control as she is better than that and will prove it—and if that fails i just play with the Fenton Tech until i get something to stop then and drop them off close enough to their homes. Except for the wanderers. They get to choose where in the realms i send them and go about from there.’
Now the public in Amity is finding out that Phantom is stuck with the Fenton Portal having disturbed his grave.
People jokingly ask him if he has an obsession and he just shrugs. “I only woke up with the portal, and a lot of ghosts don’t settle on something for centuries if they’re tied to a place. Portal ghosts are like, stuck until portal is destroyed or something? Clocky said my job is to handle the balance between the EverChange and ChoosenFrozen realms but like, we don’t get obsessions until after portal stops being a portal. So eh?”
And danny’s support blobs? Recorded in history as his ‘attendants’ and occasional aides in battle.
So
When the JL summon him and Phantom has rats? Well it is his first summon and his rats decided to stay in ‘mortal’ form to better explore… and do threat checks to Their Big Sick Rat Friend and triggers.
Pluto is ready to bite Flash for the insult to Their Presence with Big Sick Rat Friend.
Danny just hums. “Ya know, you’re the ones calling a dead disabled kid here, against my will. Not the other way around.”
That got more than a few members to wince.
“So asking clocky and frostbite about this later… once i track them down. So, what do you want?”
Diana stepped forward. “We called for someone able to contain the entity that took over the watch tower, if not defeat it.”
Danny hummed, toying with the thermos at his hip. “If i do, can you get your lawyers to look at overturning the Anto-Ecto Acts?”
Danny has a group of rats he rescued from a lab, they follow him everywhere even as Phantom, the group of five become Danny's emotional support Mischief and service animals, his folks even help make service vests for them when they're out and about. The rats have space themed names and alert for different things.
Astro alerts when Danny's about to have a panic attack
Pluto alerts when Danny's heart goes wonky besides ghost stuff
Cosmo alerts before Danny has a seizure so he can alert the others around him
Hailey alerts for pain flares
Orion alerts for tremors
Danny's portal accident messed up his nervous system bad enough that he needs his service animals or someone with him that recognizes when he's about to have a flare up or a seizure.
Well, one day, Danny gets summoned by the league, and his support mischief is on his shoulders. Flash immediately asks what's with the rodents, and Danny responds with "Kinda rude to ask someone about their service animals." Batman could already feel the headache that would be the HR service animal refresher course. First, though, they had a big threat to deal with
Ooh, this idea is very interesting. Danny having a support/service animal but in the form of rats has a nice symbolism. Their names and jobs are also really cute :3
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Drunk enough to request Artrick piss kink shame free and off anon 😳
Thinking about the boys just hanging out and drinking and Art needs to pee but Patrick keeps saying he needs to do this first, and they need to finish that first (not even to stop him going on purpose he genuinely doesn't realise Art is about to piss himself) obviously eventually Art can't hold it anymore and pisses himself and he's like oh god, I pissed myself in front of Patrick he's going to make fun of me now and he starts crying. Patrick however is like why does Art look so good crying and after pissing himself? Do I have a piss kink? And then obviously he fucks Art
drunk enough to request off anon is SO REAL😭jinx have i ever said how much i love you? because i do and i hope you love this :) and we all know these aren’t proofread right? lololol
cw: nsfw (18+) piss, dom/sub undertones, daddy kink
Art and Patrick were on the tail end of a bar crawl that night. They are pretty drunk. They had been drinking for the past two hours or so, really pushing the limits of their tolerance. Their fake ids had only gotten them so far because eventually the bartender cuts them off.
They’ve decided to walk back to the dorm since Art doesn’t think he could handle riding in a car right now without throwing up. But Patrick has a few stops he wants to make on the way.
“c’mon it’ll only be for a minute i just want some snacks” Patrick says as he walks into the corner store, one of the only places opened this late.
Art’s stomach turns because the last thing he wants to think about right now is food, he’s too drunk for this. but he still follows Patrick inside. He groans, “fine just hurry up man.”
Drunk Patrick doesn’t really take that into consideration as he strolls up and down the aisles leisurely looking for scooby doo fruit snacks, oreo cakesters, and cheese balls.
Art is getting antsy. He already feels like shit anticipating tomorrow’s hangover but shortly into this trip he realized he really had to piss.
While Patrick is la la land, looking like he’s moving in slow motion. No pep in his step like he has nowhere to be. Art tugs on Patrick’s arm, “c’mon can we go? are you done?”
Patrick has completed his shopping list before he thinks, “oh shit wait i want to get Tashi the doritos that she likes.” He does a 360 turn going back to the chips aisle.
When they get there Patrick sees every doritos flavor imaginable (this store even had international flavors) but he didn’t see Tashi’s favorite, the purple ones.
“they don’t have it man, let’s just go. c’mon i wanna go home.” Art whines, he can feel his bladder pulsing. He needs to pee bad.
Patrick frowns until he comes up with idea, “let’s just ask him at the front, maybe they have it in the back.”
Art is praying to god they do not have it in the back so they can leave.
Patrick makes his way to the cashier, dropping his stuff on the counter. Art follows suit trying to focus on anything other than how badly he needs to go.
The cashier says he will check for the purple doritos in the back and Art feels like he wants to cry.
The cashier comes back, purple doritos in tow, and he checks Patrick out. Then they continue their journey back to the dorm.
They get there about 10 minutes later and Art is so close to relief he can feel it.
Patrick is fumbling around in his pocket trying to find his keys but he thinks he left them inside. Oh god, Art doesn’t know what to do now. He could barely walk straight on their way back from how badly he had to pee. But he didn’t tell Patrick because he didn’t want to seem like a baby.
He also didn’t want to pee on the sidewalk or in an alley way like a delinquent. Patrick did it all the time if he had to go, but Art was too worried someone would catch him. He also couldn’t go if he knew someone could hear him, he gets nervous.
But this time was different and before he knew it his bladder gave up on him. The warm liquid started to run down his briefs. It trickled from his thighs all the way down to his calves. His jeans were soaked, he could feel the fabric getting heavier against his skin. Oh fuck.
Art can’t believe he did that. He feels relieved and petrified at the same time. Patrick is probably going to make fun of him for being a baby and being able to hold it like an adult. Fuck. This is so embarrassing for him, Patrick will never let him live this down.
Luckily Patrick hasn’t looked back at him yet, still searching for his keys. Shortly after he realizes the keys were in his jacket pocket, not any of the million pockets on his cargo shorts, and he opens the door. He turns to look back at Art but his smile slowly drops from his face.
That’s all it took for Art to start crying. He knows the wet spot on his jeans is very visible. Tears running down his cheeks, his face flushed with embarrassment.
Patrick is frozen in place. He didn’t know Art had to pee that bad, let alone at all. If he would’ve known he would’ve convinced Art to just pee in an alley way. But somehow he thinks he likes this better? Art looks really pretty with those tears falling down his face. Too pretty. Patrick can feel himself hardening in his own shorts.
He pulls Art inside their dorm and locks the door.
“ ‘m sorry.” Art gasps out between sobs. He doesn’t really know what else to say and the embarrassment he’s feeling is immeasurable.
Patrick drops his the plastic bag with his snacks by the door before he approaches Art. He stand right in front of Art so their face to face. He slowly lets his eyes drag over Art lower half, subconsciously biting his lip. He doesn’t really know why he’s so turned on right now.
Of course he’s watched ridiculous categories of porn before but never anything like this. Is he into this?
He brings his eyes back up to meet Art’s red rimmed eyes. He brings his hand up to Art’s cheek to wipe away some tears.
“it’s okay babe, don’t have to apologize,” Patrick all but whispers. Keeping his hand on Art’s cheeks he slowly pulls him in for a kiss.
Art is confused but he lets his eyes slips close and kisses back anyway. The kiss starts slow and shy, until it picks up true desires being unleashed. It’s a mess of teeth, tongue, and lips.
Patrick pulls away, resting his forehead against Art’s. He starts unbuttoning Art’s jeans before he shoves his hand into Art’s damp briefs which makes Art gasp, “patrick—”
“fuck.” Patrick whispers under his breath, “you’re so fucking hot.” Patrick continues as he starts stroking Art to full hardness.
“ah— ah patrick” Art whines while Patrick grabs Art’s other hand, bringing it to feel Patrick’s boner.
Patrick keeps jerking off Art with one hand, while he pulls his own shorts down with the other hand. Moving Art’s hand to grip Patrick’s hard cock. Patrick leans in by Art’s ear to whisper, “this is what you fucking do to me,” before pulling Art into a kiss.
Art moans into Patrick’s mouth, making sure to start stroking Patrick’s cock. Patrick moves his hands into the back of Art’s briefs, gripping Art’s ass.
“need to fuck you, please” Patrick groans into Art’s mouth. Without another word Art is quickly pulling off his damp briefs and shorts. He also pulls his shorty over his head.
Patrick does the same, shedding his clothes. He puts Art on all fours before smacking Art’s ass for good measure while a moan escapes Art’s mouth.
Patrick eases two lubed up fingers inside Art’s tightness to stretch him out. Once Art staring pushing back on Patrick’s fingers, greedy, he deems Art is ready for his cock.
He lines up with Art’s hole before pushing in slowly until he bottoms out. “holy fuck Art you’re so tight.”
Art gasps as Patrick fills him up. Fuck he’s so fucking full right now. “please fuck me, please”
Patrick starts slamming himself into Art, making sure to keep a good pace. “you looked so fucking hot pissing yourself. jesus fuck. couldn’t hold it in huh baby?”
Art shakes his head no as he keeps whining, moaning, any sound he can make at this point.
Patrick continues “so you made a big fucking mess didn’t you baby? just for me to see”
Art nods in agreement this time. His head was feeling a little flirty and he wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol or not anymore.
“say it, tell me how big of a fucking mess you made.” Patrick said punctuating each word with a hard thrust. He moves his hand around so he can start stroking Art’s cock as he fucks into him.
Art chokes out in between moans, babbling at this point, “i— i—made such a—fuck—b-big mess daddy.”
“holy fuck,” Patrick’s thrusts stutter and he comes inside Art immediately after that. Art comes at the same time squirting all over their sheets.
Patrick collapses next to Art on the bed. He chuckles lightly, “that was…wow.”
Art sits up, “i didn’t know you were into that, thought you were gonna make fun of me.”
“i didn’t know, but when I saw you I just,” Patrick smirks, “- yeah that was good, are we gonna talk about you calling me daddy?.”
Art scoffs shoving Patrick, “shut the fuck up I didn’t mean it.”
Patrick raises his eyebrow, “i don’t know sounded real to me,” he starts to mock Art, “oh daddy please yes make me cum ah-”
Art shoves Patrick again, making sure Patrick is face first into a pillow so he can shut up. It was clear Art didn’t want to talk about it so he stopped, for now.
Patrick starts again, “now we really have to clean up your mess,” he laughs.
Art sighs exasperated, “it’s your fault.”
“i’m not the one who pissed myself,” he says back with a low whistle. Art blushes, crossing his arms in front of his chest. Patrick could sense Art was starting to get a little insecure again so he pipes up again, “c’mon i’ll change the sheets, and you can shower. deal?”
Art nods small smile on his face, “deal.”
#challengers#art donaldson#patrick zweig#artrick#art donaldson x patrick zweig#challengers 2024#artrick smut#moot ask
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hey guys did you know that the max number of tags a post can have is 30. totally not related to the tags I have explaining what would happen if a drizzile and rindo kanade fought to the death
I'm curious let's go
#ESSAY INCOMING im so sorry#a drizzile and rindo kanade from ntwewy#assuming there's like nothing wrong then nothing happens they don't even acknowledge each other's existance#but lets say for example they got pissed off at eachother#now we have to take in several things into account#is rindo in the rg and what are the drizzile's stats moves and level#assuming rindo is in the rg the drizzile easily wins. a 15 year old has nothing on a magical water lizard#but let's check up on rindo in the ug#he's now got a ton of pins and abilities that he can use to attack#but still this is only between rindo and the drizzile. none of the other wicked twisters are around which means he only gets to use 1 psych#assuming he picks a good pin and has high stats he could take it out fairly easily#but the drizzile on the other hand#we're gonna go ahead and assume the drizzile is level 100 with maxed out stats and a nature that doesn't affect anything#and finally we're gonna give it the torrent ability which boosts water type moves when its health is low#just for fun its also holding a mystic water which boosts water type moves even more#its moves are (rain dance) (muddy water) (mud shot) and (protect)#first it sets up rain dance to summon rain which also boosts water type moves#it then uses mud shot which does a bit of damage to rindo and lowers his speed making it harder for him to dodge#it spams mud shot until rindo's speed is all the way down#then it takes damage on purpose to activate torrent#after that the rain mystic water torrent and stab boost from being the same type as the move all raise the damage of muddy water#drizzile does a quick protect to narrowly avoid death and since rindo's speed is down the drizzile can pull off muddy water#and it does a shit ton of damage#a few more muddy waters and rindo is down#but then rindo activates time travel with his player pin and reverses time to before the battle started to get an advantage#after learning what each move does he brings a pin that has an electric affinity#assuming types are similar to affinities the pin does super effective damage to drizzile#in the end rindo wins and the drizzile loses#summary: two timelines#timeline one: drizzile wins. timeline two: rindo wins.
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.....
#me posting#vent#there's a certain point where it's no longer confirmation bias‚ it's just how things work#like‚ yeah‚ you can say your a safe person to say stuff too‚ and you can say you do equal chores/work in the house-#but how am I‚ the person who lives in the basement‚ doing the upstairs garbage more times in a month than you are?#how is it that I alone do both cats litter‚ we make a deal that you clean the bathroom on my turn to make up for your issue with-#the litter‚ and my sister is doing the cleaning of the bathroom 99% of the time (he only cleans it every other month)#not to mention when you get asked to do something‚ or something is made your chore‚ you will keep using the excuse 'oh I forgot'-#'oh‚ i have a hard time remembering things‚ please just remind me' and I remind you‚ my sister reminds you‚ 12 fucking times in-#one week‚ when I get irrate and angerly ask you‚ the sunday of the next week‚ whether you've taken the rotting vegetables-#out of the coldroom‚ you 'Oh. well‚ you can take them out if it's a problem' as if the problem isn't you being the weaponized incompetence-#type of asshole who makes sure that all the gross tasks go to everyone but you. and you claim 'oh‚ but I won't be upset if you tell me-#is wrong' yet when either of us bring up you're being like this‚ it's immediately you being defensive and bringing up your dissatisfaction-#with something completely irrelevant.#i already grew up with (a different) sister like this‚ I don't need some asshole i barely have any connection to doing it#(and that's ignoring the whole 'didnt realize they were asking me to bring the big garbage bin to the curb‚ and thus for the rest-#of eternity now bringing the big bin to the curb is my job' because apparently if I fuck something up it becomes my job forever‚ but he-#can just go fuck shit up and basically force someone else to do it)#I'm wildly pissed off 24/7 and my anger issues are getting worse anytime I deal with him in more than a surface level way#I'm so fucking tired. and I'm unemployed. and keep getting nothing but the occasional rejection email and a whole lot of nothing.#so then I feel even more helpless because I'm running out of money so I don't even have anyother fucking way out other than-#checking out a bridge the scenic route.
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SNAP AND BREAK
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SYNOPSIS you piss caleb off by going on a risky mission so he makes you pay. dearly.
WARNINGS caleb x fem!reader, fights, arguments, tension, misunderstandings, secret relationship, pseudo-cest, punishment, unprotected sex, improper use of evol, gagging, cockwarming, restraints, bondage, bdsm scene, size difference, verbal humiliation, pussy job, dirty talk, multiple positions, orgasm edging, orgasm control, orgasm denial, nipple play, marking, biting, forgiveness, aftercare
DAWN SAYS another one for the cfgc <3 caleb punish me challenge mode: extremely hard. also, big thanks to bb vienna for tossing back some ideas and helping me shape up this bad boy ❤️
x / a03
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It’s not often Caleb comes home for the holidays, and when he does, you want to make sure everything’s perfect for him.
Sweat dots your brow, dripping down your neck as you spring around the house like a frantic OTTO-PHO, cleaning every inch of your old home and picking up after any mess left behind. With Gran in elderly care and your childhood friend stuck in Skyhaven, the onus is on you to keep the space spick-and-span—a duty you sorely neglected due to your erratic mission schedule.
Damn it, you scowl, glancing at the clock. It’s already 9PM… Caleb could be home anytime soon…
Huffing, you bring out a box of Christmas lights, completely entangled together in a wiry mess, and you groan at the thought of spending hours trying to get one end loose from the other. Sure, Christmas Eve is a time for families to gather together and enjoy the festivities with merriment, food and one too many glasses of bourbon, but as much as you would love to spend time with Caleb on his rare days back in Linkon, there’s a lingering thought in the back of your mind, connected right to the Hunter’s watch on your wrist.
As you check through the notifs, you miss the front door clicking open, the soft scuffle of boots on the wooden floor only reaching your distracted ears when the person was a few feet from you. Despite your wicked fast reflexes, Caleb is quicker, caging you in his arms, pulling you tightly to his chest as his boyish laughter grazes your ears.
“Really, pipsqueak? Being distracted could cost you some Hunter brownie points.”
“Caleb!” you squeal, whirling around and smacking his chest, your eyes sparkling at the sight of him. “When did you get here?! I didn’t even hear your bike.”
He releases his grip on your waist, spinning you to face him, taking you in with his warm gaze. You didn’t miss the dark circles under his eyes, stress-induced from nights in a world so far above the ground, with secrets you sense he could never tell you.
“Guess someone was more distracted than I gave her credit for,” he teases, ignoring your probing gaze.
You tighten your grip on his arm, and pull him closer, scrutinizing him from head to toe. “And you look like you haven’t slept in days.”
“Jeez,” he worms out of your grasp, though his cheery disposition remains unflappable. “Are you trying to steal my thunder? I’m the one that’s supposed to be the nagger, not the other way around. And you look like you’re short of a few days of sleep, too, Pips.”
It never surprises you how at ease he makes you feel. Banter and laughter flow freely between Caleb and you, and where words fall short, the silence remains warm and companionable. The scent of food is in the air, and you take a moment to inhale the fragrance of warm bread leaving the pan greedily. Caleb makes your favorite baozi, the sweet dough mingling with the succulent fattiness of the pork belly sandwiched between the two buns melting on your tongue, sending sparks of serotonin straight to the pleasure center of your brain.
He watches you eat with a twinkle in his eye. “Good?”
"Heavenly,” you practically moan, and take another bite. You miss his eyes darkening, the quick aversion of his gaze from your blissed-out face.
“Mhm. Glad you love it,” he raps the table with his knuckles and stands, focused on the tasks ahead. “We’ll pick up Gran from the care center tomorrow and return home. Can I trust you with the turkey, Pips?”
You nod, dusting your fingers free from crumbs and standing, too. “Got it. Turkey. What about the cupcakes?”
“Oh, I can get them delivered. Don’t worry,” he reassures with a grin. “Wouldn’t want Gran to worry about us stuck in Christmas traffic.”
He’s got a point. When Christmas Eve arrives, the streets of Linkon bustle with throngs of bodies hurrying down the sidewalks, a sense of urgency and excitement in the air. You’re carrying the turkey back to your bike when a familiar vibration on your wrist pulls your attention from strapping the bird tightly into your rear basket, and your heart falls when you see the fluctuation pattern.
Wanderers.
Your mind rushes with the implications of what comes next, and in your ear, the ever-present comm beeps, Nero’s voice on the other end briefing Team Alpha.
“... interrupt Christmas break… urgent deployment to Chansia City—team of explorers—Caves—”
It comes in bits and pieces. You’re struggling to listen while kicking your bike into gear, revving back home to pack for the overnight mission.
“Nero, slow down—which part is overrun?” Jenna demands, her voice crisp from the other end of the line.
“—Chapel Bay. We need reinforcements—”
Kicking up dirt in your wake, you zip back home, arriving in time for Caleb to poke his head past the door, his greeting dying on his lips when he sees the tension radiating off you in waves.
“Pipsqueak, what’s wrong—?”
There’s no time to consider softening the blow when an entire neighborhood is at risk of being wiped out by Wanderers.
“I just got a call to go to Chansia. There’s been a huge Wanderer attack.” You pry the turkey from your bike’s rear basket and hand it to him, sprinting back into the house to pack when a tight grip on your wrist stops you.
“Slow down, Pipsqueak,” Caleb urges, his eyes wide with trepidation. “Did you just say Chansia?”
You nod, and something in his expression darkens.
“You can’t go.”
“Wh—?”
Before you can protest, Caleb slams the front door closed, barricading it with his broader build. “Pips, that area is certified Wanderer territory after the Profield Fall six months ago. Going there would be signing your death sentence .”
His words ring in your mind, leaving behind a tremor of fear. But, your stubbornness and need to help takes precedence over whatever hesitation you might feel, and you shake your head.
“Caleb, it’s my job—”
“ Y/N, please.”
No Pipsqueak, Pips, or short stack …
Your eyes widen as the realization hits you square in the chest. Caleb is completely serious about this. You take a step back when he corners you against the wall, those amethyst eyes shining with a desperate plea for you to listen to him—just this once.
“Trust me when I say this—the DAA knows what’s going on there and we’ve escalated it to Zone Three status. You could die there, Y/N—”
“Caleb, I can’t just leave my team behind!”
He swallows hard, crossing his arms and in a tone brokering no argument, he utters: “Give me Captain Jenna’s number right now.”
You gape at him, wondering if he’s lost his mind. “ Are you trying to get me fired? ”
“Family code for the Hunter’s Association means family members can refuse to allow a Hunter to serve—”
“Now you’re just making things up!”
Your cheeks burn hotly with indignation, eyes narrowing at the sight of his wilful glare. Deep down, Caleb is just worried for you, his overprotective big brother tendencies leaving him resolutely firm on not allowing you to go. But, you’re not a kid anymore, and this is the duty you swore to uphold. Family or not, Caleb has no right to stop you from leaving.
“No,” you reiterate, standing your ground. “Caleb, this is unacceptable. You can’t just dictate when I can do my job just like that!”
“Oh, I can and I will.”
You feel a firm tug around your waist, and to your horror, his Evol snatches your phone from deep inside your pants pocket. “Hey—!”
He holds it above your head, no longer goofing around like he usually does when he teases you like this; expression serious and unyielding. “Tell me your phone password now.”
You seethe, wondering if he’s lost his mind. “Absolutely not!” Palm to his chest, he grunts, feeling the first stirrings of your Resonance piercing through the atoms binding his telekinesis together, goading him to explode. He grabs your wrist with the other hand, a mutinous and unfamiliar glare twisting his mouth into a sneer.
“Oh, don’t even think about using your Evol on me, little missy.” With a staggering strength you thought he would never use on you, Caleb drags you closer, pressing your thumb on the phone’s biometric sensor. It lights up and your phone unlocks, leaving him privy to your contacts.
In one swift motion, you kick him right in the bend of his knee, knocking him off balance. Caleb yelps and the turkey you so carefully transported back home goes crashing to the ground along with his knees hitting the carpet. Moving fluidly, you grab his shoulder, restraining his arm behind his back, forcing him to relinquish his grip on your phone where it clatters onto the floor.
“Pips—”
You push your knee right in between his shoulder blades, forcing him to the ground.
Caleb grunts in pain, but you’re too angry to even care about his discomfort.
“How dare you come in the way of my job?” You spit out, increasing the force of your knee into his back. “You have no right, Caleb. None.”
“I was just—”
“What’s going on?!”
You both glance up to find Gran staring at you in horror, frozen in her wheelchair. It’s been years since she saw a fight this bad between you and Caleb—the last one being when you two were angsty teenagers. At the look of dismay on her face, you hesitate and ease up, letting him go. Caleb rises with a derisive scoff, and without a second glance, tosses your phone back to you, remaining indifferent when you fumble to catch it.
“Fine. But, don’t say I didn’t warn you. If you’re going through with this, then I have nothing else to say to you.”
He walks away, his head bent, broad shoulders tense with frustration. You watch him disappear back into the kitchen and glance down at the mess of the turkey scattered on the floor—reminding you of the chaos you’ve brought to what was supposed to be a day of family and celebration. How you single-handedly ruined Christmas Eve.
“Gran, I’m—”
She raises a hand to stop your string of excuses and apologies. “Whatever you need to do, go and do it. Just come back in one piece, dear.”
You glance at the deep set lines of her face, the kindness in her eyes you didn’t deserve. “Could you tell him…?” You trail off, and flicker your gaze to the kitchen. Gran nods, imperceptibly understanding your request.
“I’ll speak to him, don’t you worry.”
Taking one last look at her, you nod and hitch the strap of your purse higher, thoughts already racing on the logistics of returning to the Association base and retrieving your hunting gear. As you straddle your bike, you steal a final glance at the kitchen window, wondering if he could see you pulling away. But, the curtains are drawn, and the lights dim.
Feeling the melancholy of separating on such awful terms with him, you kick up the bike stand and zip down the highway to your unknown fate, ready to fight Wanderers despite how much every fiber in your body was screaming at you to turn around and make things right with Caleb.
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Caleb stares at the phone in his hand. It’s been three days since he last heard from you; since he last saw you.
He’s gone through the entire cycle of grief the whole time you’ve been missing from his side: denial that you had the nerve to hurt him after all he’s done for you, anger at the way you dismissed his concerns and complaints about him mother henning you when all he wants is to ensure your safety; bargaining with the voices in his mind to forgive and forget; a crippling depression at the lack of consideration you had for him by not even bothering to reach out and finally acceptance that come what may, you had to return home.
He wouldn’t rest till he sees you again—till he makes sure you’re safe and whole.
But, when the fourth day trickles by with still no sign or contact from you, anxiety gnaws him right to the bone and he can’t focus on anything else but the chirp of his phone, heart pounding wildly and breath hitching as he picks it up, hoping to see the golden notification which will indicate you’re still alive.
He’s disappointed time and time again.
Yet, he doesn’t switch off his phone or mute it. Caleb reasons if you ever did call him, he would always be on standby to berate you.
(And ask you when you’ll be coming home again so he can prepare to see you).
His heart echoes a dull thud that grows murkier and darker with each growing day of your absence. Till he can’t take it anymore and punches in the emergency number you left on the fridge, hearing the dial tone that echoes forlornly in the background of this empty kitchen soaking in the last rays of sunset.
The call doesn’t go through, and he tries the other number you left for him.
“Hello?”
Mercifully, a woman answers and his white-knuckled grip on the phone tightens.
“Hi,” he stutters and feels like a fool. “My name is Caleb. I’m… Y/N’s friend,” clearing his throat, he presses on. “I haven’t heard from her in days and I’m starting to, uh, get worried. Is she—?”
He barely gets the question out when the woman interrupts him, not unkindly.
“Caleb, isn’t it? You’re her adopted brother. My name is Jenna and I’m the captain of Team Alpha. Unfortunately, I cannot disclose any further information about our Deepspace Hunters except that they are currently on a very important mission.”
Jenna’s tone is steepled in regret, and Caleb pinches the bridge of his nose. “I know. I know, damn it.” If she finds his cursing crass, she doesn’t comment on it. “But, it’s been four days already. I just need to know—”
“Mr. Caleb, we understand your frustration, but please, do let us handle the mission on our end, and if there are any updates—”
“You’d only tell me if she returns in a body bag.”
The transparency of his resigned statement floats uneasily like a greasy film over a thick coating of lies he’s very well accustomed to in the military and law enforcement world. The reality is this: he would never know if you were alive until you came back home.
Caleb thumps his forehead against the frosty kitchen glass, watching the white snowflakes dance in front of him with listless, pained violet eyes. The necklace you gifted him hangs from his neck like a noose, threatening to choke the last of his composure. He struggles to hold onto his temper, as he swallows and nods.
“Alright. Roger that. Thank you, Captain.”
He doesn’t give Jenna a chance to reply, ending the call and, in a fit of rage, slams his phone onto the table. His sudden fit of anger doesn't go unobserved, Gran’s weary eyes watching him pace restlessly through the kitchen, not noticing her sitting in the dark corner. She wants to comfort him but doesn’t know how. After all, it was you who usually took the mantle of calming down this unnerving, determined young man during his rare, but terrifying bouts of rage.
Gran sighs quietly and stares up at the ceiling as if she could see past the layers of plaster and unease and into the graying, snowy sky.
Caleb slams the front door on his way out to god knows where. Like always, she remains reticent and disengaged, sitting in the furthest corner where his disconcerting emotions could never reach her.
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You weren’t expecting anyone to wait for you back in your apartment when you finally returned home.
Light snow coats the front of your lobby stairs, and the second he sees you, the doorman waves to catch your attention.
“Oh, Miss Hunter! You have a care package waiting for you in the mail room.”
Curious and weary from your arduous mission, you trudge to the mailroom to retrieve the package under your name. Clasping it in one arm, you drag your tired and bruised body straight to your apartment and push open the door, switching on the lights and air conditioning. The space smells of stale air and an underlying current of tension, greeting you with a lingering melancholy you couldn’t quite shake off.
You carefully close the door behind you and set the package on your dining table. Glancing out at the twinkling lights of the street below, the feeling of missing out on an important holiday creeps back in, and you fight back the urge to sob.
Now’s not the time…your inner voice chimes. You need to eat something… shower and rest. Wiping your damp eyes, you take a deep breath. The time to break down and mourn over your guilt can come later.
Tearing the package open, your heart skips a beat when you see a bento box filled with dehydrated vegetables, powdered cranberry sauce, dried turkey, and a side of instant mac ‘n’ cheese. A note, written in a blocky scrawl you recognize as Caleb’s, makes the lump of guilt in your throat thicken even more.
Merry Christmas, Pipsqueak. We missed you. — C
You boil some water, microwave the food, and rehydrate the greens again, taking your sad pre-packed Christmas meal on the balcony. The food is good, and you have an inkling of Caleb freeze-drying it for you—begrudgingly making sure you could still enjoy your holiday even after the catastrophic fight you both had.
As you chew listlessly on a slice of turkey, you glance up at the sky where you imagine the outline of Skyhaven to be, snowflakes clinging onto the ends of your lashes, falling like powdered sugar onto your bare hands.
Caleb… your mind echoes forlornly. Did he return to the base? Is he still here in Linkon?
One quick look at your Moments feed, and you see he’s still here, catching up with old classmates and grinning brightly in his photos like the two of you hadn’t been at each other’s throats just a few days ago.
The temptation to call him up is at odds with your bruised ego from the smothering behavior he exhibited days earlier. A part of you wants an excuse to see him again despite the growing distance since the argument—to thank him for the meal he prepared for you.
Snowflakes melt in your hair, an unceasing chill creeping up on you. Despite the unusual distance creeping insidiously into your relationship, the chill, the reproachful silence—the meal he sent you was more than a peace offering. It was his version of an apology.
Your mind floats a million miles away, thinking about Caleb, wondering if he is still mad at you. You heave a sigh. As much as you dread it, there’s only one way to find out.
Pulling out your phone, you click on his number. The dial tone drones on and on, plucking on your nerves, and you reflexively nibble on your nails, waiting for him to pick up.
“Hello! ” You expel a rushed breath, an apology on the tip of your tongue when you’re hit with the realization that you’ve reached his voicemail box instead. “—probably busy. Please leave a message after the beep—”
Silence. You catch a staggering breath. “Caleb? It’s me. If you get this, let’s meet up, ‘kay? Talk to you soon.”
There’s a hum in the night air, a tension drawing lines around your taut figure. You wait and wait for his return call, glancing at your phone every minute, checking on your messages in case he left one when your back was turned. The warm shower you took could barely flush out the thought of Caleb, your anxiety peaking when you decide to check on Moments, seeing him post a picture of his dinner with his friends, but leaving your message on read.
Crap. You’re in deep trouble now. Sighing, you run your fingers through your hair, rubbing your face.
There isn’t a hint of doubt that he’s punishing you now with the silent treatment. Caleb is never the type to avoid confrontations—he thrives on them. He loves arguing, challenging your worldview, and trying to prove his point, just to rub it in your face that he will always be right.
The indifference is odd; this distance is not like him.
Before you can stop yourself from calling him again, you slip on your coat, tug on your scarf, and rush to your bike.
I’m going to make him talk to me if it’s the last thing I do, you think viciously, revving up the bike aggressively—kicking up snow and dirt in your wake to break this frostiness between you two.
In fifteen minutes, you find yourself in front of your childhood home, the kitchen lights glowing warmly. Gran is probably already back at the elderly care center, and since Caleb is still treating you as public enemy #1, he’s staying here to keep his distance from you. You kill the engine and march straight up to the door, unlocking it with your spare key.
Inside the house is warm and toasty, the faint smell of food drifting from the kitchen. You freeze when the sound of heavy footsteps reaches your ears, looking straight into his wide, amethyst eyes.
Caleb exhales a sharp breath, his mouth dropping open slightly. “Pipsqueak…”
You remain nailed to the spot, wondering if he would kick you out—ask you to leave for daring to show your face here again. But, he does no such thing, beckoning you to close the door and come in. Though he doesn’t outright reject you, he doesn’t welcome you with open arms, either, the usual exuberance and grins he reserves for you nowhere to be found on his unsettlingly serious expression.
Caleb goes back into the kitchen, picking up a towel to wipe down his hands. The paper plane bracelet you got for him years ago peeks past the sleeve of his gray hoodie, a reminder of happier times between you two.
You hesitate for a single second by the doorway, wondering when the thought of home left you this cold and disorientated.
Like a lost puppy, you trail after him, removing your jacket and setting it on the back of a dining chair.
“Thank you… for the meal,” your hoarse voice breaks the icy silence.
Caleb glances at you from behind the kitchen island and nods. “You’re welcome.”
He doesn’t say anything else, and the easy familiarity from years of knowing each other fades into a glacial stillness. You hear your breath leaving your lips, and sense the way he’s avoiding your eyes.
“Caleb—”
He scoffs at the sound of his name leaving your lips, and turns around, putting all his focus on the bread he’s baking. You know him well enough to understand he only bakes when he’s completely stressed out over something.
Without thinking, you touch his wrist, not anticipating the sharp way he draws his hand back from you.
“Caleb…”
He doesn’t glance at you—barely gives your pain a second glance. “What’re you doing here, Pipsqueak?” He murmurs gruffly. “Aren’t you supposed to be writing a debrief report right now?”
As much as his distance stings, his dismissal hurts even worse, feeling like a knife carving through your chest.
“It’s Christmas season,” you whisper. “The offices are closed—”
“And yet, risky missions still prevail, huh?”
His words bite straight to your core, and you wince. “Caleb, it’s not—”
“Save it,” your childhood friend cuts you off, jerking his chin towards the dining table. “Sit down there and don’t disturb me. I’m making sourdough focaccia and if something goes wrong, I will 100% blame you.”
Despite the warning in his tone, you can’t help but smile faintly.
“Okay…”
Taking a seat at the table, you watch him work. The sleeves of his hoodie stretch tautly over his bulging biceps, rolling up to expose his forearms as he works the dough into a malleable ball. The silence is something new, a phenomenon born from the supernova of your hasty mistakes, leaving gaping black holes of awkwardness surrounding the two of you. Any light coming through from your attempts to make conversation is shut down with a dismissive hum or grunt from Caleb.
You can tell he’s avoiding any attempts to talk, focusing on making the bread and ignoring your presence in the corner of his eye. The childish part of you that grew up with his undivided attention screams, tearing and twisting in your chest, needing to reclaim his interest and care again. You pout, sulk, and heave numerous heavy sighs. But, he doesn’t turn to look at you, much too busy focusing on brushing basil oil onto the bubbling surface of the dough.
So, you amp up the distractions. You circle closer and closer to him, pressing your face near his shoulder to watch him decorate the dough with slivers of cherry tomatoes. You linger when he turns to grab the container of sea salt flakes, playfully sticking your finger into the concoction to pop a bubble forming.
“Okay, that’s it—”
He grabs your wrist and tugs you back into the living room, making you sit on the couch with a scowl on his face. The look of pure wrath in his expression startles you, and you barely have time to murmur an apology when he shakes his head, glare intensifying.
“Stay out of my hair, Pipsqueak. I mean it. ”
“But—”
He whirls around, silencing you with a deep and unmistakable glint of rage in his usually gentle purple eyes. You fall into a stuttering disquiet, unable to stop the hurt from flashing across your face.
“Caleb—”
“Don’t give me that look. And stay away from the kitchen.” Stay away from me. He doesn’t say it, but the warning is implicit.
You’ve never seen him this enraged before. Your breath falls out in a huff, and you give him an incredulous look. Caleb turns around, completely ignoring you, and returns to his focaccia. A voice in your head chimes in, telling you to just own up to your mistakes and apologize to him. But, the stubborn part of your consciousness, the one who insists she’s right despite how poorly she had treated one of her oldest childhood friends, remains stubbornly set on not breaking the ice first.
Easier said than done.
It’s hard.
It’s hard for you to sit on the couch, quiet and seething when Caleb is just a few feet away. It’s absolute torture to not be in there with him, yapping off his ear with updates to your mission, or trying to sneak eat a few cherry tomatoes when his back is turned. You miss him, and you miss his shitty jokes and dopey smile. You miss him.
You find yourself sneaking glances at him, wondering if he’s making an extra batch for you—hoping he isn’t too mad to deny you from having a focaccia slice. You know you’re being selfish and immature again, thinking he will be okay with you after the stunt you pulled on him when the reality of his dejection runs deeper.
Shamelessly, you stand and venture back into the kitchen, unlike a stray kitten who could never take a hint. You stand by his side, hovering around until he pays you a morsel of attention—gifting you back his sunny smiles and easygoing laughter.
But, Caleb remains steadfast in his efforts to ignore you, and you decide it’s time to bring out the big guns. Pressing closer to him, you lean your head against his shoulder, nuzzling your cheek into the soft material of his hoodie.
“Gege… don’t be mad at me…”
He stiffens, and yet, you persist with your efforts. Playfully nipping the back of his ear, you find his weakness in an instant, hearing his breath catch in the back of his throat.
Caleb pretends you don’t exist, letting you fight for his attention, but you can tell his resolve is crumbling. You hear the hitch in his quiet groan when you lick the sensitive shell of his ear, the heat of your body seeping past the thick fabric of his hoodie.
Gran isn’t here, and you don’t have to hide your desires from her, free to mess around with Caleb as much as you can.
You stand on your tiptoes, tracing the tip of your tongue down the curve of his neck, scraping your teeth against his sensitive skin.
Caleb hisses, and you fight back the urge to grin in triumph. His hands grip the marble island’s edge with a white-knuckle hold. You feel his resolution to ignore you falling apart, piece by piece, simmering in the knowledge of you offering yourself to him as a way of apologizing for the things you said—how you hurt him both physically and emotionally before your mission.
“I’m sorry… I’m sorry, gege,” you murmur against the salt of his skin, feeling his body heat under your touch. “Can you ever forgive me? Can you ever forgive your mei mei? ”
He bites back a groan, narrowing his eyes.
“You’re playing a dangerous game, Pipsqueak…” he hisses under his breath.
The way he says it, full of anger and warning, sends a sick, dark thrill up your spine. You resist the urge to lay off him, needing him to fully crack and give in to your whims like he always does—like he always will when it comes to you because you’re nothing if not Caleb’s spoiled rotten mei mei who always gets what she wants.
“Pipsqueak—” his words cut off into a low growl when he feels your arms belting around his waist, your hands sliding further down… fingertips teasingly brushing the bulge tenting under his pants. “Watch it.”
But, his warning lacks bite, and you gnaw on your lower lip, feeling his patience slowly dissipating. Caleb is once again putty in your hands, easy to mold to your desires. You grin against his back, feeling the same revulsive knot twisting in your stomach, the stench of the impending perverseness making your nostrils flare.
“ Gege… ” you whisper again.
It’s the final nail to the coffin of his attempts to resist you. Except when he snaps, he does it in a way you never expect.
Caleb grabs your hand and spins you around, pinning you right to the counter edge. Without a second’s hesitation, he drags your pants down, baring your vulnerable backside. The stinging pain of his hit on your left cheek draws you up short, and you cry out, cursing profusely.
“My, my,” you can hear the grin in his dark tone. “Such a mouth you have on yourself, mei mei … you need to be reprimanded.”
Another sharp spank lands on your right cheek this time, and your head jerks up, a yelp slipping past your clenched teeth.
“C-Caleb—”
“Don’t you dare Caleb me,” he sneers and drags you like you’re a ragdoll to the bedroom—his bedroom. Inside, you’re faced with gege’s full wrath, as he stands before you, tall and imposing, those amethyst eyes barely wavering when he takes in your warm cheeks and the glimmer of pain simmering in your gaze.
“Strip,” Caleb commands, lifting a dark brow. “ Now .”
You want to argue, to tell him to ease up, but the look on his face remains flinty and firm.
Swallowing your trepidation, you start by pulling your shirt over your head, letting it fall to the floor. Caleb’s expression doesn’t shift, not even when his eyes rake over the lace bra you’re wearing. His jaw tightens, and he gestures at your pants, silently telling you to go all in if you want to earn his forgiveness back.
You reluctantly tuck your thumbs into the waistband of your pants and drag them down, leaving you shivering in your matching lacy panties.
He scoffs, running his eyes up and down your scantily-clad form. “You sure you weren’t thinking indecent thoughts, you shameless minx? Good girls don’t try to seduce their older brothers by looking like this.”
You flush warmly at his degrading words, feeling your bravado slipping. “I-I wasn’t—”
Your words die in the back of your throat when you feel the restrictive force of his Evol grasping your wrists, drawing them above your head. Caleb’s expression and outstretched hand don't falter, and he takes another step closer, bearing down on your helplessness.
“Be quiet,” he snaps. Flicking his fingers, he pushes you against the wall, hearing the gust of breath rushing out your lungs when your back hits the hard plaster. You grunt in surprise, struggling and failing to fight your way out of the bonds he has your wrists in.
“Scared?” He goads, approaching you, taking your chin, and tilting your face up. The look in his eyes is borderline terrifying—you’ve never seen Caleb ( your sweet, lovely, kind, and sunny Caleb )—look this angry in your life. “This is what you wanted, right?” Grabbing your wrists in one large palm, he tightens his grip on you. “Teasing me… hurting me… you have a knack for breaking your gege’s heart, huh, Pipsqueak?”
You shake your head, wanting to protest when he silences you with a punishing kiss. Caleb bites down on your lower lip, your words and coherence lost in the slurry mess of his tongue fighting yours, tasting the warmth and wetness of your mouth.
“Mhm,” you moan into the kiss, tilting your head to the side to get more—taste more of him. He runs the tip of his tongue over the hard ridges of your teeth, squeezing your cheeks in a possessive hold, forcing your mouth to remain open and giving as he continues to take what he wants without a care for your pathetic whines.
“Don’t think I’ll go nice on you, Y/N,” he warns, tipping your head back, his lips brushing the sensitive shell of your ear. “You treated me like dirt before you left. You hurt my feelings—” He growls, biting down hard on your earlobe. “You selfish, bratty little Pipsqueak… I won’t go easy on you, do you hear me? Nod if you understand.”
You can’t do anything but nod, helpless in the face of his anger. The corners of his mouth twitch at the sight of your submission, the dark monster within he tries hard to suppress rearing its jealous head, beckoning him to devour you. With a surprising show of dominance, he tangles his fingers in your hair, yanking your head back with a grunt, exposing more of your throat to his wandering lips.
He licks, nips, and sucks his marks onto the pristine column of your throat, needing to see his marks bloom on your skin. Caleb is relentless in his attempts to remind you who you belong to.
The force of his touch sends sparks of thrill up your spine, and you gasp with every hot press of his open-mouth kisses to your vulnerable jaw and neck.
Caleb’s teeth scrapes your sensitive skin, drawing guttural gasps from your kiss-swollen lips.
“Ca-leb—” you break off into a hiss when his Evol rearranges your limbs, spreading your thighs wider; your arms restrained above your head. The last time he had you in this position was a summer ago before he left for a mission to Vagrant Land. You swore after that night when he was done with you, that you had to double your Plan B dosage less your body betrayed you and you conceived his baby.
“Please—”
He doesn’t hear your begging, taking a step closer, his bigger build pressing harder into your body.
“I said: Shut. Up. ”
In one swift motion, his telekinesis holds your lips shut, your struggles and indignant squeals barely triggering a reaction from him. The look on his face sparks both terror and desire, your body responding to his unexpected dominance; proof of your arousal shining from between your thighs.
“Already wet? How pathetic…”
He smirks, coating his fingers with the proof of your desire pooling right between your folds.
“Mhmph—Cwaleb—” your desperate squeak shoots his ego straight up to the moon, and Caleb is on cloud nine.
Such a desperate, little Pipsqueak. You want this so badly, huh? Mhm hmm. That’s right. That’s fucking right. You like my fingers in you? Good girl. Such a good, little Pipsqueak. You’re doing so well—fuck.
His anger aside, Caleb can’t help but praise you. It’s his default; his DNA. You drive him insane and he wants to punish you for getting under his skin—where you’ll always belong, not if he can help it.
“Something you wanna say, Pips?” he sneers, pumping two long, lithe, and callused fingers inside of you, catching on a spot that makes your toes curl.
“S-swo…sworry,” you manage to spit past the pressure clamping your mouth shut, tears swimming in your eyes, “Cwaleb… mhm .”
He can’t say he doesn’t enjoy your struggle. The flush on your cheeks, the wetness glimmering on your lips. Caleb wants to see you completely and utterly ruined for him.
“Beg,” he commands, slipping into his Captain persona with ease. In his eyes, you were nothing but an unruly cadet in need of a stern fixing. “Beg me and I might give you what you want.”
Thumb on your clit, he’s driving you delirious with feathery, teasing circles. Your eyes roll back into your head.
Cwaleb, you groan against his Evol. Pwease—mhmph!
The pressure of his fingers gets meaner, the look in his violet eyes muffling the last of your protests. Giving up on trying to get him to relent, you submit with feeble sighs, letting him take full control. Caleb grins, feeling you succumbing to his ministrations, your squeaks and sighs growing louder and more distraught.
He loves having you like this—on the edge, overstimulated, and completely relying on him.
Years of knowing your body and what makes you tick is enough for him to push your buttons—taking your limits past the breaking point.
He’s meticulous and sure with his punishment, doing whatever it takes to hammer in the anger and shame he wants you to feel—the lesson he’s trying to impart to your desperate body and distraught mind.
As he releases the pressure on your mouth so you can moan and gasp freely, Caleb’s quick with a foot of rope, using it to bind your hands in your front, allowing you just enough give to grip a pen in your shaky hand as he makes you sit on his cock and write ‘I will always obey my gege’ over and over again until your eyes swim, and your cunt is pulsing from every slight movement.
He teases you with shallow thrusts, lips in the crook of your neck, and warm, large palms covering your heaving breasts; playing with your distended nipples till they blossom into a pretty blush shade.
Driving you further into a pleasure-filled delirium, he rubs your clit with teasing circles, smacking your thighs when they start to snap close.
“I said—keep 'em’ open unless you know what’s good for ya, princess,” he sneers, leaving another stinging mark blooming on the plush flesh.
“Please…” The plea drops from your swollen lips and he chuckles.
“Struggling already?”
Caleb peers over your shoulder at your almost illegible writing and shakes his head. “I thought you were better than this—didn’t you once win the best handwriting award in high school? Tch.”
To your mortification and horror, he picks up the sheet of paper and tears it in half, ruining your hour-long effort of completing a hundred lines.
“Again,” he orders, and grabs a blank sheet, placing it in front of you. “And make sure your writing is pretty Pipsqueak. I wanna frame this.”
A strangled whimper tumbles from your mouth, and behind you, Caleb smirks at the sheer frustration at the sound.
Good.
Now, you would understand a sliver of the anguish he felt when you went missing for days. Now, you would feel the exasperation and outrage he did—and god, does it feelgood to watch you come undone for him.
You pick up the pen, and with a teary, little huff, start to write again. He hooks his chin over your shoulder, breath warm and distracting against your neck.
“Atta girl,” he murmurs, chest rumbling with deep satisfaction. “Look at’cha. Doing so well… I oughta reward you after this, hmm?”
He teasingly trails his palm up your thigh, squeezing your flesh—enjoying how your pretty, tight pussy squeezes down on him with every rasp of his palm on your skin. The sight between your thighs is lewd, a creamy mess coating the base of his cock, dribbles of arousal gathering at the lips of your entrance which ripples around his thick girth. Caleb is equal parts mesmerized and thrilled by the sight, watching how your little clit shivers when he teases her with the rough pad of his index finger; how your body shudders, and the pen in your hand shakes.
“Much better,” he compliments your penmanship, giving your clit and nipple a squeeze.
“Ah— mhm! ” You choke through your tears. This minute reaction costs you a firm smack on your thigh, his fingernails digging into the singing flesh.
“Did I say you could take your eyes off the paper?” Caleb demands, and in a low tone, barks out, “ Write .”
Tears mist your vision, your hips twitching and muscles tightening around the fleshy intrusion lodged deeply in your tender pussy. Caleb wraps his hands around your waist and gingerly lifts you up and down, fucking you on his cock as the words on the paper get blurrer and blurrer.
I will always obey gege.
I will always obey gege.
I will always—
The words get subconsciously stuck in your head, your lips shaping and breathing them out in shaky puffs. Black strokes of your obedience begin to fill up half of the page, and soon the whole sheet is covered with the affirmation. Caleb presses his lips to your jaw, giving you a much softer kiss, catching you off guard with his gentleness.
“There you go… lookin’ good, darlin’.”
He takes the paper from you and scrutinizes each word, well aware of your body trembling; your sweet, tight cunt squeezing pitifully around his cock. You’ve made such a mess on his lap, Caleb is surprised how the powerful orgasm you’ve been holding back for the past two hours hasn’t taken you under yet. It seems like one single touch and you might blow.
He chuckles, chest vibrating against your back, and sets your work down, gripping your hip tighter.
“Good girl,” he croons in your ear. Those maliciously thick and long fingers slide up the length of your thigh, reaching to wrap around your neck.
“I did what you asked,” you pant, squeezing your eyes shut and moaning at the sensation of his lips kissing down your throat. “A-am I forgiven yet?”
Hmm, Caleb hums, his smirking mouth pressing on your pulse point. He loves how despite your lofty title as Linkon’s shining Hunter, you’re still so much smaller than him; your entire body dwarfed between his bigger build and the hard edge of the table. “... suppose I could show you some mercy.”
He traces random patterns on your thigh and a sliver of hope takes root in your heart. Maybe you’ve done enough to fully earn his trust and love back. Maybe he might be merciful and kiss you—
As if you weighed next to nothing, Caleb’s strong arms carry you back to bed, setting you down on his lap again. He buries his nose in your hair and inhales like a starved man tasting honey for the first time, his tongue darting out to trace the jut of your jaw, trailing down your throat.
“You’re so sweet… so sinful…”
His grave murmurs send sparks of desire straight to your core, and you clench your thighs, whimpering.
“Caleb…”
Your whisper is a fleeting plea of desire that disappears under his smothering kiss. Caleb devours your mouth, swirling his tongue with yours, his fingers holding your chin in place. Hungry, open-mouth kisses smear down your neck, right to your collarbone, where the ghost of his breath on your perky nipples makes you shudder.
He takes his time, playing with you while you’re all tied up and helpless. Caleb grins against your sternum, hearing your breath hitch when he parts your thighs and sinks a finger inside you with barely any prep. Your body takes him without resistance, and he nuzzles your bare breasts, relishing how soft your skin is against his cheek.
“You’re so eager… so ready for me…”
His dick throbs, but he pays it no mind, completely zeroing in on your pleasure. Caleb’s entire focus is on you—your whimpers, your sighs, how your poor, puffy pussy clenches down so nicely on his thick fingers.
You’re just ready to burst, darlin’ ... he murmurs huskily into your ear. Must be frustrating, hmm? Not being given the chance to come… I’m sure you’re aching…
His thumb circles on your greasy, little nub, hearing your soft moans and sighs in his hair. Caleb guides you to the bed, your bound body falling in a heap under him. He positions himself over you, forearms on either side of your head as he goes back to licking and sucking at your neck.
The sting of his teeth leaving another bite leaves you light-headed with lust, your body throbbing for the slightest bit of relief.
Please… you whimper again, trying your luck. Caleb… I need you…
Yeah? He murmurs huskily. Where’dya need me, princess?
You squirm, moving your hips and he feels you writhing underneath him. “Inside. All the way.”
His breathing hitches, blood growing hotter at the desperation and need in your tone.
“All the way? You know what to say to get a man going, sweetness.”
“I— ohhh .”
Your words die in the back of your throat at what he does next.
Caleb grins as he pushes your thighs apart, settling in between them. He carelessly tugs his pants down, ripping off his clothes to toss them to the floor, gifting you inches and inches of bare, tanned skin and defined muscles to gawk at. Ready, baby? Giving his cock a few good pumps, he lines the tip to your entrance, catching it on the rim of your pussy.
Teasingly, he works the flush, sticky head up and down your weeping clit, circling your opening, pushing it in past the tight ring of muscle with taunting ‘pops’. Your gasps reach his ears, and he grins, enjoying drawing out your pleasure far too much.
Like that? He licks his lips, eyes half-hooded and heated. It’s all going in you, baby… just… at my… pace.
He punctuates each languid word with a few more inches sinking inside of you, coaxing more sweet sounds from your slack jaw.
Oh, yes… yes… fuck me, Caleb. Fuck—oooh.
Your drawn-out hiss springs a wicked smile to his face. The way your eyes roll back; how your hips twitch.
Spasming wildly, your sweet pussy draws him in, and Caleb can’t get enough of you. It’s excruciating how much he’s edging himself as much as he’s torturing you. But, the moment he bottoms out inside of you, all the tension condenses right to the point where you’re connected to him.
Caleb sets a rhythm that leaves you gasping, legs wrapping instinctively around his fitted waist. His biceps and abs ripple with every thrust, those pesky lips you love too much finding the hollow of your throat, leaving behind his claim on your delicate skin for the world to see. His mouth presses to yours in a heated display of ownership, tongue delving past your lips to dominate yours.
His taste—musk, salt, man—coats your tastebuds, and you’re swimming in his heat and scent.
Caleb is everywhere and anywhere over you, all at once.
His bigger build completely dwarfs you on the bed, expert hands pushing your thighs apart and pressing your knees to your chest, leaving you flushed and completely vulnerable to him.
He laughs when your clit trembles under his scrutiny, the little bud exposed with nowhere to hide.
Zeroing in on your tender bundle of nerves, he presses his thumb to it, feeling the greasy little button twitch under his fingertip.
You look so pretty like this… all tied up and vulnerable… just for me.
“Caleb…” your moans begin to stutter, your hips beginning to spasm. You’re so close, all it takes is one misstep on his end to lead you down the biggest orgasm of your life.
Hours of teasing and drawing out your pleasure renders you an incoherent, babbling mess.
Faster, faster… oh god, please. Yesyesyes. Caleb—Caleb…
Anyone passing by the room could tell you were barely holding on by a thread. You look so beautiful under him like this: hair fanning across his pillows, cheeks warm and lips flushed. The glassy look in your eyes.
God, he’s so in love with you.
Having you here, under him where you belong, heals the fissured part inside of him that still aches from your cruel dismissal of his concerns.
His thrusts grow more punishing, the tip of his long, girthy cock hitting your cervix. Caleb tilts your pelvis, making you take him deeper.
There ya go, sweet thing, he coaxes. Can you feel me here—? He touches your womb. Feel me where ya need me. Oh, darlin’... I’m gonna make sure you feel me for days.
Picking up his pace, the bed creaks and rocks under you. Caleb makes sure to tease your clit as well with every punishing thrust, feeling your thighs tremble around his shoulders.
He’s so deep, so flushed against your body, he thinks you could suck him up and take him in your body forever.
Caleb is hard-pressed to admit he doesn’t want that—there is nothing in the world he desires more than to be one with your bones and breath. His movements get erratic, needing to bring you to the edge and back.
He can tell you’re close.
The look on your face, the warmth in your cheeks. You’re holding back and he couldn’t be any more prouder.
“What do you want, princess?” He asks, eyes soft with affection.
You struggle to put your desires into words, completely wrecked at the end of his cock.
“I… mhm— close… ”
He feels your muscles squeezing down on him, and chuckles breathlessly.
“Yeah? I can tell, princess. You want to cum—you need to cum, huh?”
You give a teary, little nod that tugs on his heartstrings. But, Caleb isn’t done with you—not by a long shot.
He grins and without warning, switches the position, putting you on top of him. When you falter and almost fall face-first into his chest, the familiar stirrings of energy hold you upright, his Evol keeping you centered and balanced on his cock.
“Ride me,” he whispers huskily. “Show me how much you want this—prove to me how badly you want to cum.”
The challenge in his tone drives you dizzy with lust. Licking your lips, you murmur a whimper which makes his grin stretch wider, and shift your hips, testing the give of his Evol.
Sturdy and sure, his grip on you doesn’t falter, and you quickly find a rhythm that makes his eyelids flutter shut. A groan slips from Caleb’s lips, his pretty purple eyes prying open to drink at the sight of you riding him feverishly.
Arduous and urgent, you move your hips like a pro. Caleb’s sure he’s never seen you this determined—the look in your eyes searing through him.
The sight of his dog tag and the apple charm you gave him years ago shining silver from his neck catches your eye, a stark contrast to his tanned and flushed skin.
God… you’re killing me…
Caleb smirks at your breathless words. I do? Glad to know, princess…
His large palm collides against your plush ass, watching the flesh jiggle with each precise spank. Your sharp inhales and whines spur him on as he takes his frustrations out on your pert ass, venting the fear and anger he felt when you left him behind for that torturous week onto your willing body.
Try to leave me again. His nostrils flare, eyes dark with promise. And I’ll make sure you’ll never have any use for your legs, you hear me, Pips
Possessive and passionate, he tangles his fingers in your hair, tugging your head back to expose the vulnerable skin of your neck. His Evol loosens its grip, and you go falling into his arms, his lips practically devouring your neck with heated kisses and nips.
You gasp when he works in another mark over one he just made a few minutes ago, the stinging bite of pain enough to get you fluttering all over his cock.
“ Mhm… ” you groan. You’re lost to the sensations, drunk off the high he’s giving you.
Caleb is no better. He’s almost cross-eyed from the pleasure, drunkenly leaving marks on your jaw and collarbone.
Sloppy. Languid. Caleb fucks you like he’s got all the time in the world.
He runs his hands down your back, over your sides, fondling your sore and stinging ass. Moving underneath you like a strong wave, he slowly rolls his hips up against you, pulling you closer onto his lap.
“You’re so good… taking everything so well… my perfect pipsqueak…”
Caleb’s moans and praises get lost in the crook of your neck. He uses his free hand to grip and squeeze your breast, drawing your turgid nipples into his mouth one by one; his other hand continues to spank and grope your ass.
It’s too much—all too soon.
You’re on the edge and he still hasn’t permitted you to come. The need to be good is at war with your primal instincts to give in to the pleasure, your gasps and moans are a desperate symphony to his heated ears.
His thrusts get more erratic, the wet sounds of your bodies joining together bouncing off the walls. The windows of his bedroom start to fog up, the bed creaking maddeningly with every thrust.
“Caleb,” you gasp, feeling the familiar tension coiling in your lower belly. “Oh… oh… ”
He hears the note of panic in your tone and chuckles gravelly. Dark hair in a disarray, amethyst eyes shining with mischief. Caleb is the picture of ravaged underneath you, and there’s little doubt you’re in a much worse state above him.
Licking his puffy lips, Caleb shakes his head, abs undulating from the release he’s also trying to hold back.
“Uh-uh-uh, princess,” he taunts, voice dropping an octave lower. “Not yet…”
You clench your jaw and squeeze your eyes shut in despair. He grins, lips moving back to your neck, murmuring against the salt of your skin.
“I love seeing you like this… hearing you gasp and whimper… feeling you writhe so desperately above me…”
Caleb… you whisper his name like a prayer, one you hope he grants.
“Yeah, princess? Say my name… I love it when you say my name.”
“Caleb… oh… Caleb… ”
He nuzzles your neck in an unexpected gesture of adoration, feeling how tense your body is.
“You’re so close, hmm?” He murmurs, unlike how a pet owner tries to soothe a fretting kitten. “I know you are, Pips. I can feel ya. So close… oh… and yet so… far .”
At the last second, before you succumb to your pleasure, Caleb’s Evol lifts you off his cock, the sudden, gaping loss ripping the earth-shattering orgasm right from under your trembling body.
No! You cry out in a thick voice, and you swear real tears spring in your eyes. No… no… please…!
Begging him shamelessly. That’s what you were reduced to.
Caleb chuckles, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. He loosens his grip on you and guides you back onto his cock. You hiss from the intrusion, eyes rolling back in your head. Nothing but a puppet to her Master’s strings; Caleb is firmly in control.
He manipulates your body to his own pace, using his Evol to fuck you on top of his cock like you’re a lifeless doll, made only for his pleasure.
“Oh… oh… y-you ass—”
Caleb laughs, cutting off your tirade by gripping your hips tighter.
“Don’tcha love it, princess? Don’t lie to me—you adore it when I tease ya. Make you work for my lovin’,” he mutters hotly into your neck. “You can deny it all ya one, Pips, but I know what you want… I know what you want deep, deep down…”
As he drawls out ‘deep’, his Evol loosens, making you slide down his cock until you bottom out.
“ Ngh! ” You cry out, the tears in your eyes dripping down your cheeks. Caleb clicks his tongue and wipes the proof of your frustration away with his calloused thumb.
“No need to cry, Pips. I gotcha. Gege’s got ya, don’t he?”
You struggle to reply, the last of your coherent thoughts scrambled by his cock working you back to the edge again.
Caleb… Caleb… you cry out, his name a mantra, a chant that grounds you as his cock continues to fuck you up.
It seems like forever passes by when he brings you to the edge, abandons all motion, and does it again until you’re practically sobbing from the overstimulation. Caleb is a mastermind of your own body—he knows just how to get you trembling from the onslaught of pleasure without ever letting you fall over.
The torturous cycle starts and ends the same: with your begging and whining doing nothing to move him.
“Please…” you finally gasp, hanging your head, strands of your hair tickling his chin. “I’m sorry, Caleb. I’m so sorry…” Fighting back the lump in your throat, your shiny eyes beg him to show you some mercy. “I’m sorry I hurt you… s-sorry I— ah… mhmmm… treated you like shit… I’m so sorry—”
Caleb sweeps you into his arms, his Evol completely releasing its grip on you. “That’s all I wanted to hear… all I needed…”
He registers how you’re choking up and rubs gentle circles on your back. “Hey—ssh. Ssh. Apology accepted, Pipsqueak. Don’t cry, okay… come here…” Gripping your chin and tilting your face up to meet his, he gives you a soft smile. “You did so well… I’m so proud of you, hey? You wanna come, sweetness?”
Without a shred of stubbornness left, you eagerly nod. He chuckles, and positions you back on his cock, purple eyes glistening with the pure adoration he has for you.
“Alright—come on, baby… ride me good this time, okay? And don’t hold back—you deserve this… deserve all this for being such a good, little girl—”
It doesn't take long for you to get to the edge, hours of suppressing your release make you needy and very sensitive.
Come… come for me… he encourages you, rubbing your clit, pinching your nipples—doing everything in his power to get you to lose control.
The tension in your belly snowballs to something beyond your control, and you tilt your head back, expelling a long, drawn-out moan.
In the ropes and under his cruel yet tender ministrations, you find the courage to fall apart—his name rebounding across the room like a screamed cry of relief. Caleb feels you shuddering all around him and gives in to his baser need to fill you up, grunting low and deep into the crook of your neck as ribbons of warmth coat your walls.
Drops of white dribble to stain your inner thighs and his lap, but neither of you cares.
Undoing the rope and relinquishing his Evol’s hold on you, Caleb catches you in his arms, burying his nose into your hair, soothed by your delicate scent.
The afterglow settles like a haze, enveloping your body like a warm, fluffy blanket.
Caleb traces patterns on your bare back, pressing soft kisses to your temple and cheek. He breathes in your light scent, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck.
“You alive, Pips?”
Nodding, your eyes flutter close, the comfort found in the crook of his body intoxicatingly cozy. Your heartbeat starts to slow, lulled by the gentleness of his breathing. His pulse steadies under your cheek, his arms tightening around you, pressing you closer to his chest.
“You did so good, princess…” he murmurs, stroking your head. “So proud of you—I’m so proud of my little Pipsqueak…”
His praise hits your system like a shot of red wine, warming you up from the inside out. Flushed from his gentle words, you eagerly rub your face against his throat, his boyish chuckles easing the guilt still swimming in your soul.
“Caleb?” He looks down at you, taken by your small voice.
“Yes, Pips?”
“Am I… forgiven?”
He nods without a beat of hesitation. “You sure are. There’s nothing for you to be sorry about anymore, okay? Let’s put this behind us and start fresh, princess. How’s that sound?”
Relieved, you nod, and the love you feel for him intensifies, radiating brightly from deep within.
One thing you’ve learned about wounded hearts is this: with Caleb’s smile, everything can be healed.
— feedback and reblogs are much appreciated ❤️ your support means a lot to me
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© all works belong to lalunanymph. do not copy, repost, claim as your own or feed my works into AI
#🦢 writes#caleb xia yizhou#caleb love and deepspace#caleb lads#caleb x mc#caleb x reader#caleb x you#caleb smut#lnds smut#lads smut#love and deepspace fic
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one order for a vanilla birthday cake pleaseee!
kook!reader texting rafe “what position have you got her in?” when he takes too long to respond to a text
happy birthday, angel 💓
BSF!RAFE + KOOK!READER ⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚
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manicured pink nails tapped impatiently on the restaurant table. eyes glued to the bedazzled device with a glittery pout adorning her lips. this was so unfair. rafe would have a fucking conniption if she even thought about not texting him back. and now it’s been… seven fucking minutes? yeah, right.
the last time she left him on delivered for two minutes he was blowing her phone up and all grumbly the rest of the week, pounding her into oblivion for playing games. dont get her wrong; she loved it. being fucked within an inch of her life was her favorite pastime.
but now? rafe cameron was like the worst hypocrite known to man.
‘what position u got her in?’
‘Be so fr’
it brought a smile to her pretty face seeing his sassy reply. with a satisfied huff, she set her phone face down on the table. why not make him sweat? picking up her long island iced tea with a devious grin, she was right back into the conversation with her girls.
the table was alight with giggles and gossip — the pack of kook girls enjoying lunch together after before hitting the beach.
it was supposed to be an easy day, a break from all the confusion and feelings still swirling around princess and her tall, handsome “best friend”. and she desperately needed that. needed some semblance of normalcy before shit took off and everything on the island changed when the two most hated and loved rich kids finally get together.
so she didn’t even flinch when her phone vibrated once, twice, thrice. she only excused herself from the conversation with a smile when her phone buzzed in a rhythmic pattern — a phone call. bubbles of giddy excitement filling her tummy as ‘rafey’ showed on the screen with a point five angled photo of him looking pissed.
“‘kay— be right back, girls!” she sang, already standing with her phone in hand.
“he finally called you, huh?” melodie, a beautiful brunette in a lilac bikini top teased. the table giggled, all looking at princess and feeling a rush of girlish excitement.
“get your man, baby!” another girl, aliyah, borderline squealed.
princess flushed, feeling her body heat up at the prospect of rafe being ‘her man’. god, imagine! she waved them off embarrassedly, teetering away on her platform flip flops, pleasantly tipsy as she leans against the outside wall of the restaurant.
“hellooooo?”
her voice was sugary sweet into the phone, looking down at her nails and checking the polish for any chips. the warm timbre of rafe cameron’s voice rumbled through the speaker, directly pressed into her ear. she found herself wishing to feel his lips moving around the words and against the shell of her ear.
“you’re somethin’ else, dollface.” he mumbled and she could hear the smirk on his lips.
“aw, you didn’t say ‘hi’, rafe…” she pouted, biting back a laugh at the sound of his heavy sigh on the other end.
“hi. you’re somethin’ else.”
“hiii. why’s that?”
his laugh came through the speaker, all deep and settling into her bones like it always does. she hears the tick, tick of his blinker, meaning he’s driving somewhere in that big truck of his.
princess looks around at the marina, taking the sight of obx residents enjoying the still warm, early fall weather. hot enough to take a dip without the water being freezing yet. rafe continued on as she flitted her gaze around the area.
he ignored her question, instead asking his own.
“checked your location. you tipsy right now?”
a giggle escaped her glossy lips, head lolling slightly, “mmm, maybe… why?”
“go back in and pay. sent you one fifty.”
she froze, pulling the phone from her ear and seeing an apple pay notification. he always did this. not like she could just use her dad’s card or anything.
“rafe cameron—“
he cut her off, hanging up after and not letting her protest, “hey— pay and then come back out. know i’ll let ‘chu make it up to me, a’ight?”
it was like a reverse walk of shame — explaining to her friends why she was leaving early and why she was covering the whole tab. walking back out with her purse on her arm as the familiar rumble of his truck approached, petulant in the way her arms were crossed. he pulled up right before her, rolling down the passenger window and smiling in that frustratingly charming way. dickhead.
she hung up with a guffaw, not believing he actually showed up when she was hanging with her friends. the possessive gesture makes her heart jump then fall. very boyfriend of him.
“what the fuck are you doing here?”
“oh, that’s how you talk to someone who just paid for your lunch? get in.”
she scoffed, amused at his gall. even more so at the fact she listened — shoes clacking against the pavement. rafe leaned over the console, opening the door for her. he looks good and smells better. that cologne she bought him for his birthday last year that he seems to be wearing a lot recently. an intoxicating smell that makes her feel drunker.
a plaid button up, rolled up to the elbow and exposing strong, veiny arms causes her mind to wander as he leans closer to her.
“hey, gorgeous,” that low drawl sends goosebumps over her body, paired with a half smile that’s so pretty.
comfortable in the seat she’s become so familiar with, he closes the gap between them. giving her a kiss so casual and natural, it makes her fluffy lashes flutter rapidly. sticky gloss transfered on his mouth that he doesn’t even wipe away.
she’s even more confused when flowers are thrusted into her arms. princess blinks at him like a fish — feeling a warmth settle in her chest at the sight of her favorite blooms wrapped haphazardly in brown paper.
“they, uh— they were in this ugly fuckin’ plastic. know you hate that so… yeah,” rafe shrugs it off as he pulls out of the parking lot.
princess decides this is technically a kidnapping. especially because she’s never been more confused and lost in her life.
he leans back in the seat, driving with one hand lazily, confidently. a glimpse of blue eyes at her and she’s smiling wildly, bringing the flowers to her nose to smell them. princess leans over and kisses his cheek, feeling drunker on the moment and smell of his skin.
“i— thank you, rafey…”
rafe takes notice of how small her voice is, how vulnerable. he nods, switching hands to rest one on her leg. large, warm palm soothing her and pulling her out of her mind before she can even begin to cause herself to spiral.
he clears his throat, squeezing the plush, smooth skin of her thigh, “cowgirl.”
her furrowed brow is adorable. looking up from the bouquet in her lap and over at him in question. there’s a drunken slowness to her, a haze. he hums and pushes his hand higher — marking a mental note of how easily her legs spread to make room for him.
“that’s what position imma have you in.”
#STARS BDAY CELEBRATION ⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚#rafe cameron#kook!reader#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron x reader#rafe outer banks#fanfic#outer banks#rafe cameron smut#drew starkey#drew starkey x reader#rafe cameron prompt#obx x reader#rafe cameron fanfic#rafe cameron x you#rafe obx#obx smut#obx fanfiction#obx imagine#obx cast#obx fic
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Imagine going on adventures with Logan and Deadpool and you’re the voice of reason behind them 😆 Deapool the idiot with hot headed Wolverine that reader has to keep in check all the time
It’s not easy being the only person with common sense in this rag tag trio of yours.
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^^ this is literally you babysitting two grown ass men that need to be kept on leashes and separated from one another in case they fight, again.
You are overworked and underpaid to be dealing with this shit, but there was no one else who had the patience for Wade nor the compassion and empathy for Logan as you did.
So unfortunately you were stuck with them for every mission given but despite how vastly different and incompatible some of you were -*cough* Logan and Wade *cough*- you three worked well enough together that you were a force to be reckoned with.
You were forced to face situations where wade would be pissing Logan off to the point his claws were out, and you had to pat the rugged man on his shoulder, wait for him to look at you as you pointed towards his claws;
‘Them. Away. Now.’ -you.
Wolverine: *grunts*
You: don’t give me attitude, put. them. away. Now.
Wade: ohhh Logan’s in trouble!
You would then look at Wade before pointing at him like a disappointed parent: and you, stop pissing him off if you like to keep your dick where it is! Or so help god me I’ll cut it off myself!
Wade: 😶
Wolverine: *smirks and puts the claws away*
You were their voice of reason, their angel on their shoulder, their peace keeper and confidant and they respect you for keeping up with their shit. However it wouldn’t be much like Logan and Wade to make your life easy as you often had to stand between the two as a barrier of sorts to keep them from killing each other.
When in actuality they are flipping each other off behind your back and it wasn’t until Logan slapped wades hand away, causing him to say ‘ow’ did you look between the two of them as they acted like they weren’t acting like children a few moments ago.
You: I’m so sorry you’ll have to excuse them.
*Meanwhile Wade and Logan fighting, stabbing each other in the balls in the background*
You: WOULD YOU TWO STOP FUCKING FIGHTING FOR FIVE MINUTES!!!
Wade and Logan; *immediately stop and point at each other* he started it!
They were the reason you had grey hairs at an early age you swore this to anyone who’d listen. They were a pain in your ass, thorn in your side and a headache waiting to happen but the moment you were threatened, Wade and Logan put aside their differences and acted accordingly by standing protectively in front of you.
Logan: I would shut the fuck up if I were you bub.
Wade: oh look what you did, you made daddy angry.
Logan and you looking at Wade: 🤨😐
You: can you not make everything into a sex joke?
Wade, booping you on the nose; it comes with the territory peanut.
Logan: be serious for fucking once, they’ve just got threatened!
Wade: you don’t think I want our pookie to get hurt? (why do I think he’d say pookie unironically)
You: kill me now and end my misery. Please someone, anyone. Preferably pyro. (He’s hot, literally and figuratively)
Being stuck with Logan and wolverine is a curse and a blessing at the same time, which one you want to focus on more is up to you. However you three were incredibly loyal to each other, even if you do piss each other off from time to time, but you’d never betray one another for it wasn’t an option.
You were stuck with these two whether you liked it or not.
#mcu x you#mcu x reader#mcu imagines#mcu imagine#mcu x y/n#marvel x you#marvel x reader#marvel imagine#marvel imagines#marvel x y/n#deadpool imagine#deadpool x you#deadpool imagines#deadpool x reader#wade wilson imagines#wade wilson x reader#wade wilson imagine#wolverine imagine#wolverine imagines#wolverine x reader#logan howlett x you#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett imagine#deadpool
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Slytherin Boys React: Free Use
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If I disappear I come back nastier 🤷🏻♀️
You and your boyfriend have a free use agreement.
Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, free use, CNC, degradation, oral (both), piv, fingering, breastplay, smut with no plot
Mattheo Riddle
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Everyone knows Mattheo has an oral fixation. But not everyone knows that watching you put anything in your mouth drives him absolutely crazy. From biting your nails, to chewing on your pen, or sucking on a piece of candy. It drives the man feral. Feral.
After hours you two snuck into the girls bathroom so you could get ready for bed before staying the night in his dorm. You face the mirror brushing your teeth, you don’t notice the way he’s watching you. Gagging on your toothbrush lightly, a small white stream of toothpaste dripping down your lips. The way your pouty lips part as you bend over the sink to check your molars thoroughly.
Suddenly poking under your nightgown, he brushes his cock between your thighs. The smallest warning before he makes quick work of your panties and slides into your warm unsuspecting pussy. A muffled moan escapes your lip as he raises his brows in the mirror, shocked at how good it feels.
“Don’t stop baby” he whispers and you struggle to keep brushing as he thrusts lazily into you. Eyes staring only at your mouth even when you feel yourself clench around him. His focus is on thin line of toothpaste dripping out of your lips as he fucks you stupid.
Theodore Nott
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“Mine”. That’s what Theo said as soon as you got to his room. Well he didn’t as much say it to you as he did to your breasts. He sat on his bed, his eyes immediately drawn to your chest highlighted by the little tank top you wore.
He reached his arms out for you and when you stood in front of him to give him a hug he immediately buried his face in your breasts.
“Mine…so beautiful” he muttered.
“Well hello to you too,” you begin to say laughing but he doesn’t respond. He is a man starved. His hands trail quickly from your back to the neckline of your top yanking it down. Yes our bra also becomes a casualty, they bunch at your waist biting into your skin. Immediately he licks a nipple. Swirling his tongue. Taking a little bite. Then the other. His hands squeeze softly, then possessively. Making you hiss at the pressure and moan when he sucks harder.
You feel the heat between your thighs building and your hips begin to keen forward as you moan.
“Mmm, Theo please,” you whine begging for more your pussy dripping needing to be touched. But he doesn’t hear you, he doesn’t care to hear you. He releases one of your nipples with a loud pop and looks up at you with swollen lips and eyes full of possession. It told you he was going to have you however he wanted.
“Mine.”
Enzo Berkshire
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Your boyfriend had a way with words. He had a cute mouth, a charming mouth and every now and then a smart mouth. You had spent the better part of an hour listening to him chat and flirt with people at a party. Your friends, his friends, all genders. He couldn’t help it. He was just really that charming. It had managed to tick you off and arouse you all at the same time.
The party had left your mind feeling light and hazy but his behavior left a hot sting in your stomach. When you both stumbled into his dorm, his back hit he bed and he laid yawning.
“Must be exhausted after flirting all night,” you snapped not hiding aggravation in your tone.
Enzo only grinned like the charismatic little bastard he is, “really darling, don’t tell me you’re jealous” he practically purred knowing full and well you were. You made quick work of your panties sliding them down as she stood on the side of his bed.
“Not jealous just curious,” you teased as you began to climb in bed. He raised his eyebrow at you as your straddled his face.
“I’m curious if your mouth can do something that doesn’t piss me off,” your voice a mixture of frustration and lust. His hands found purchase on your hips as he pulls you onto his tongue. Eagerly he slides his tongue against you,his jaw moving aggressively. You feel him lightly suck on your clit as he rocks your hips against his face and your brain shortwires.
Draco Malfoy
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You hadn’t even had time to fully form a thought about your transfiguration homework before Draco stuffed his cock in your mouth. You knew when his eyes looked like they did, cold and far away that it wasn’t time to give him any lip about it.
His quidditch loss had left him angsty. The veins on his hands protruding as threw his dirty uniform into the hamper. He only had a towel slung across his hips as he walked into his dorm. You sat at your desk about to open your textbook. The sight of you so calm, unfettered by his loss and so beautiful was almost maddening.
The towel laid on the floor, his hand cradled your jaw and he slid in. The thrusts were rough, you gagged softly as his other hand threaded into your hair. His lips parted, eyes unreadable, when he saw yours tear up as he pushed too far he finally let out a groan.
“There we go, pretty little slut” he let out in a breathy growl, “let me use you”.
Blaise Zabini
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The metallic taste of the rings on his fingers on your tongue surprised you. You blinked your eyes open half awake. Your body had been flush against Blaise as you slept, unaware he had been staring for ten minutes dying to feel you.
When the saliva coated fingers dragged between your thighs, you let in a soft gasp. His other hand clamped your mouth as he softly teased your clit ignoring your whimpers. Hungry, searching finally when he felt you dripping and ready for him he yielded his touch. Shifting on top of you, his hand never left your mouth. He knew by the half lidded look in your eyes and the way your thighs spread open eagerly that you were needy.
He shoved his cock inside of you, burying it as deeply as he could as his face fell into your shoulder. His free hand pinning your hip so he could control the painfully slow and intense movement. He pushed you over the edge easily and when he finished he rolled back off of you leaving you dripping and breathless as he fell back asleep.
Tom Riddle
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Many would assume that it would have been Tom who wanted to use you freely and not the other way around. True dominance for him, wasn’t taking you whenever he wanted. It was knowing he held your desire in the palm of his hand. Nothing made him happier than knowing that you needed him.
Tom was more than happy to lay nude on his bed, on arm behind his head and the other holding a book. The music he usually played while he studied replaced by the sounds of you moaning as you rode his cock eagerly.
Your skin glistened from effort, your cheeks flushed and breath heavy. Your whimpers and whines pleased him as he mulled over the Charm Theories text book in his hand. Only lowering it a moment to catch a glimpse of you trying to desperately chasing your high. You may be using his cock but he denied you the effort, the attention the friction you truly needed. And he loved it.
If you managed to fuck yourself to orgasm with your needy, pathetic movements he would be tickled. Amused. But he preferred you frustrated and desperate for later. Where he would have you on his own terms.
#tom riddle#slytherin boys#hp fanfic#slytherin#tom riddle smut#toxic love#theodore nott smut#tomriddle x reader#theo nott x y/n#mattheo riddle smut#blaise zabini smut#enzo berkshire smut#draco malfoy x reader#draco malfoy smut#draco malfoy imagine#theo nott x reader#theo nott smut#mattheo x y/n#enzo berkshire imagine#enzo berkshire x reader#slytherinboys#blaise zabini imagine#blaise zabini#theo nott imagine#theodore nott#lorenzo berkshire#draco malfoy#free use kink#mattheo smut#hp smut
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⋆.ೃ࿔*:・ teddy’s notes: hey guys!! back to bakugou x loser gf headcanons bc i need loveeeee and fluff and you guys need it too!! also not proofread sorry!!
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bakugou, who absolutely adores you being yourself. gushing about a topic that interests you, whining over a dress you like, showing off your stupidly colourful nails that only look good on you, clinging onto him when he acts all annoyed and nonchalant — he thinks to himself “what a silly girl and wtf did she find in me” because you’re just so different from him and he is so different from you. but at the end of the day, katsuki finds that the love he has for you is mutual and that’s a common ground for both of you.
bakugou, who acts like he hates it when you pamper him, but you know better than that. you know that he absolutely loves it when you scratch his head with your nails despite how much he complains about you ruining it; he would never allow you to do that somewhere other than your share home, slapping your hand away with a glare, however, it’s hard to resist once he is comfortable. he’d dodge your hand at first, but you’re insistent, holding his head close as you sneak your hand into his hair and his complaints and curses die down instantly.
bakugou, who doesn’t like it when others see him being soft for you. it’s not about you, really, his personal relationship are important to him and the comments piss him off; dunce face getting all smug and shutting up once he’s told that “he is bitchless”, kirishima trying to praise him for opening up which earns him a couple of threatening explosions. mina is sneakier though, she tries to get information out of you, which is a lost cause because you only smile sheepishly and point behind her shoulder where bakugou is standing, a death glare directed towards pinky. you can only watch as he lunges after her, giggling at the sight of her horror and his rage.
bakugou, whose way of showing affection is a little different from what you’d expect a boyfriend to do. it shows in the way he notices your hair sticking out and his hands automatically fly up to fix it; calloused hands stroking down your hair, tucking it behind your ears or even gathering it all into something more neat so it doesn’t bother you, or him. if there’s a thread sticking out of the seams of your clothing and he notices there’s a micro-explosion going off from his finger where he burns it off and then scowls at your bewildered face. if you ever feel down he will do the small mistake of offering a solution as soon as you get out what’s on your mind, but then, he will understand that what you need is comfort and provide it the best he can because you’re his best girl.
bakugou, who kisses you unexpectedly because you turn into a jelly right in his arms. your smile turns wobbly and you start stuttering like a total idiot, eyes a little foggy and body heating up invitingly, and katsuki is having the time of his life, whilst trying to keep his own emotions in check since he’s just a guy and cute girl turning all putty in his hold is not an easy thing to resist. “earth to loser,” he bites your cheek playfully before kissing it, soothing the momentary pain, “let’s go to my room.” you can only nod dumbly and let him tug you in the direction of his room with his hand clasped tightly around yours.
#— teddy’s writing shop 𐙚🧸ྀི#bakugou katsuki x reader#bakugou katsuki#bakugou x reader#bakugou x you#bakugou katuski x reader#katsuki bakugo x reader#mha bakugou#bnha bakugo katsuki#bakugou fluff#bnha bakugou#bakugou katsuki x you#katsuki bakugo fluff#katsuki x reader#katsuki bakugou#mha x you#mha x reader#bnha x reader#bnha x you
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There's my portal
As i said on @bet-on-me-13 'Where is my portal' post, here is my short about their idea. please enjoy.
Danny sipped his coffee, slowly shuffling towards his lab. It had been a long time since he had a ‘run on two coffees and some ecto’ weekend but here he was, Monday morning, on his way to work.
He really wanted to be in bed but he had bills to pay.
Quietly he shuffled into his lab, which he found oddly drafty and oddly bright, considering he hadn’t turned on the lights yet. After flicking them on he moved on towards his desk, passing a big gaping hole in the wall and—
Danny paused, shuffled backwards a bit and then looked at the place where his portal used to be. For a long moment he just looked, then did a slow blink and took another sip of coffee.
After making sure that his portal, including parts of the wall, were really gone, he let out a sigh and held his face. “Who the fuck stole my door?”
With a sigh he pushed his bangs out of his face and walked to his PC, to check the security footage of his Cameras. For once it wasn’t Vlad who stole his shit, Vlad at least had the courtesy to leave a note that he ‘borrowed’ something. It was safe to say that he was surprised to find the footage gone. There weren't many people that could hack through Tucker's programing.
Danny sat there, looking at the black screen of his PC for a long moment before thinking aloud. “Okay, we have one or more people who can; One, break through Tuckers firewalls. Two, physically move a portal weighing around ten tons and, Three, knows their way around Arcane Runes so as to not cause a mass ghost invasion.”
He thought about it for a minute before throwing his hands up. “Fuck this, I’m just going to use the other side to find it.” He got out of his chair before transforming.
Danny focused his power into one of his fingers before poking the air in front of him, the tip of it pierced the fabric of space which he then used to rip it open. He quickly flew through the tear before it sealed again. Despite Wulf teaching him how to do it he still sucked at it, which was the main reason he built his portal.
Once in the Zone he looked around for it. He found it after over two hours of searching, which only served to piss him off to the point where he began muttering curses under his breath.
Standing in front of it, he gave it a quick inspection. After inspecting the Runes, Danny had to admit that, whoever had stolen it, knew his way around them. They pretty much locked out anyone not authorized and or approved by the Caster. Too bad for them, Danny had the ‘Masterkey’ and went through anyway.
John Constantine was holding his face, quietly counting to ten. Neither smoking nor drinking would help in this situation. After reaching fifty he ran his hands over his head, looking at the assembled brigade of idiots in front of him.
“Okay, let me get this straight.” He started, “You,” he pointed at Batman, “found an ‘unknown energy signature’ and went to investigate. Then you found a high security lab with had an active portal to ‘who knows where’ and your first decision was to fucking steal it?!?!”
Superman moved forward, opening his mouth to counter but Constantine didn't let him. “AND you moron helped him steal it, not to mention you!” he pointed at flash, “Help install it here, in the watchtower, without telling anyone from JLD about it?”
Flash looked a bit sheepish at him. “Well, in my defense I didn’t know it was stolen.”
Constantine wanted to bash his head against the next closest bulkhead, maybe that would help.
“Okay, okay.” Constantine facepalmed, trying to stop the aneurysm from building up more.
A deep chill suddenly filled the air and sent goosebumps all over his back, “Oh this is just getting better and better.” Constantine reached into his pocket for a warding charm, before turning around and swearing. He stopped swearing when he saw who had come through. “Oh, hey Phantom.”
“Constantine, why the fuck did you steal my portal?” Danny wasn’t even pissed anymore. He knew the English drunktard too well to blame him. Granted he was obnoxious, didn’t pay back his debt and came whenever it suited him, but Danny liked the man. He didn’t exasperate problems and always did what was necessary.
“Look, I didn’t.” He then threw a thumb over his shoulder, “Those morons did.”
“Constantine, do you know this entity?” Batman already looked on high alert.
“Excuse you! I have a name. And that is my Portal. Explain why it isn't where it is supposed to be.”
“The sensors of the Watchtower found an unknown energy signature, upon investigation we found an unsecured pathway to a different dimension, so we secured it.”
Danny stared at Batman for a solid minute, then simply said, “Oh I'm going to sue your ass so hard your grandkids will feel it.”
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implied poly!141 x fem!reader
The 141 is delighted the first time they see you lose your shit with a rookie. You're working with a section on the shooting range when some dumb cunt disobeys a direct order and endangers an entire fire team.
"Are ya deaf or just dumb?!" you shout at the soldier who seems to be in shock at the damage his disobedience caused. "You were nearly the reason those three," you sweep your hand to the soldiers being helped to medical by the other fire team, "went home in a box! Yer're sapposed ta have their back. Now yer gunna have to earn their trust all over again. I wouldn' trust ya at my back after that shite." The soldier looks ready to piss himself as you take a deep breath. Instead of railing at him more, you point to the training field and say, "Run a lap a year fer the ages of each of those soldiers you injured, and if you drop or pass out, you'll just need to finish 'em later."
The 141 decide in that moment to make you theirs. Anyone with that much spitfire will be perfect.
And it is.
Until it's not. Until you turn that ferocity on them.
Maybe Soap says something stupid or Ghost does something condescending or Price tries to put you in your place or Gaz underestimates you. And the claws come out.
The boys quickly realize the venom you spewed the first time they saw you is only the beginning. The first day after the incident, you respond to their jokes and flirting with a glare more icy than Price has ever given. Day two, as they squirm under your stare and try to apologize, you are somehow more stoic than Ghost, which none thought was even possible. By day three, they move on to gestures - bringing breakfast to your room, keeping your coffee filled, getting your laundry done - that you simply respond to with words more vicious than Gaz ever delivered during interrogations. Four days in and they're at their wits end. They are practically begging for your forgiveness and approval which is when you go truly feral to a degree Soap could only ever wish to achieve.
The pet they thought they found to round out their group is really a wild animal. And their approach to you changes. They know they need to prove themselves trustworthy, so you accept their love and affection again.
You find insubordinate rookies quickly reprimanded and your own consequences backed by Price and Ghost. And despite how frustrating running training is, you're given more sections to work with. Clearly they trust you as a soldier.
Duplicate paperwork and random checks of your forms stops. Price or Laswell signs off on things in record time. They show they trust your leadership.
Finally, they stop treating you and your presence with them as a default and treasure every moment you spend with them.
more
#cod#poly!141#poly!141 x reader#tf 141#tf 141 x reader#johnny mactavish#kyle garrick#john price#simon riley#nerdygirl says
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You’ve got my body, flesh and bone
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Obsessed!Rafe x nerdy!girl!reader
Summary: something was different about you, and rafe can’t stop thinking about you ever since you came home from college. He knows you want him, too, even if you don’t show it
Warnings: explicit sexual content, minors dni, penetrative sex, p in v, unprotected sex, cream pie, oral (fem receiving), fingering, obsessed behaviors, pervy behaviors (I think?), Rafe is down bad, reader is secretly naughty, dom!rafe, spitting, choking, bit of degradation, Rafe is rough and she likes it.
Wrote this with s2 Rafe in mind but he’s not as psychotic🥰 reader also wears glasses, hope you like being blind
WC: 5.5k I’m so sorry
A/N: NOBODY LOOK AT MEEEEE. Anyway I couldn’t help myself. Rafe and Drew are in my mind all day and I need them so bad so I wrote it! I dedicate this to the reason of my insanity @bloodibambiidoll love you doll for feeding me into crash out Rafe😩. This was heavily inspired by her own Rafe fics so def check her out!
Also tagging my other rafe baby @babygorewhore🩷
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There weren't a lot of things in this world that Rafe didn’t have. His whole life, anything he wanted, he had, at the palm of his hand. Whatever he wanted, he could do. And he fucking loved it. He didn’t know what it was like to crave something to the point of madness. Until you came around.
He didn’t know what it was, that feeling deep inside his gut. He didn’t know if it was lust, or desire, or if he truly felt something for you. Perhaps he felt all three. But one thing he knew for certain. If he didn’t have you soon, he was going to cave someone’s face in. It didn’t help that you shot him down every time. The more you ignored him, the more he craved you. Albeit he knew he had a chance in high school and he didn’t take it then. But even he knew he was a prick then. More than he was now, anyway. Deep down he couldn’t blame you for not giving him a chance now, he didn’t want you when you were all quiet and had those ugly glasses, so why should he get you now that you were more confident and stopped giving a fuck what people thought about you? He had to admit, college made you hot as fuck.
Rafe didn’t know it at first, but the first time he saw you at a party, your hair all pretty, your laugh so contagious he heard it across the room, your clothes hugging every curve of your body perfectly. His jaw fucking dropped. He almost didn’t believe it was you at first. Until he heard whispers about just how fucking hot you had gotten after college. He didn’t know it then, but his sanity was going to go downhill from there.
That was a month ago, and he still couldn’t get you to give him the light of day. It was almost like you were running away from him, every time. And it pissed him off, really, it did. He craved your attention like he never before. Maybe he was getting soft. Or he was going insane. Either one.
The worst part?
You were doing it on purpose.
You caught on pretty quickly. After the first couple of times of catching Rafe blatantly staring at you whenever he saw you, you were curious. It wasn’t entirely outlandish, you were like an exotic animal, having come back to the island after graduating early from university. You didn’t change much, you just learned to manage your social anxiety and started putting more effort into your appearance. You didn’t understand why everyone made such a big deal out of you. But you ignored it for the most part.
But you couldn’t ignore Rafe. His presence was intoxicating. Even if he didn’t approach you directly. You knew he was there. But you never made an effort to talk to him. You only ever talked to Sarah when you saw her. She was the one that pointed out Rafe in a corner, Topper talking his ear off but Rafe wasn’t paying listening to a word being said, he was looking at you. You, of course, brushed her off with the excuse you gave everyone.
“He'll get over it, just give it a week.”
He did not, in fact, get over it.
He thought you didn’t notice, but he followed you on instagram. Of course you noticed. How could you not? Your account was public, but you occasionally looked at who followed you. And the second you saw Rafe fucking Cameron followed you, you almost fainted. Suddenly, the stupid crush you had on Rafe at sixteen came flooding right back. You refused to get your hopes up, but the thought of Rafe quietly stalking your social media never left your mind.
You had no proof, but over the course of a month, you posted on your stories way more than you ever did in college, because you knew Rafe would see them. If you went to a party on Figure 8? Insta story. If you went to the beach? Swimsuit selfies. Felt pretty and did your makeup? Insta story. And what did you notice? Rafe always coincidentally seemed to end up at the exact place you were at. He never came alone, obviously. But he always hung out nearby, always within your line of sight.
You were driving him mad, certainly. There's no way it was legal for you to wear a swimsuit like that. It actually made his blood boil knowing there were other guys blatantly eye fucking you. Only he should be allowed to do that. He angrily sipped into his cup, silently fuming as he had to stand and simply watch you laugh and run around with your friends, walking past him every time you got drinks for the bar.
He swore he saw you grin at him one time, a devious and flirty look in your eyes when you made eye contact with him. And he was ready to grab you by the arm and drag you to his car and fuck you right then and there. But he decided against it. Somehow he had enough self control. But it was wearing thin the longer his torture dragged on.
“Girl, what did you do to Rafe?” Your high school best friend asked you when you came back with your drinks. You frowned, tilting your head innocently.
“To Rafe? Nothing. I haven’t even talked to him since I came back.” You answered with the truth. Though you purposely ignored what she probably meant.
“He’s been like glaring at you the whole night. He hasn’t moved from there all night and he’s just looking at you.” She pointed out, more quietly now. And you couldn’t help but subtly shift your eyes in his direction. And indeed, your eyes met with his piercing blue ones. You’d be lying if you said your heart didn’t race the slightest bit when you caught him looking at you like that. He was looking at you exactly how you desperately wanted him to look at you in high school.
“No idea what you mean. He’s probably just annoyed I’m hanging out with Sarah and her boyfriend. He probably thinks I’m encouraging her hanging out with the pogues.” You mumbled into your cup, shrugging as you quickly averted your gaze from Rafe. You weren’t sure if you wanted to convince her, or yourself.
“You’re better than me, because if Rafe Cameron looked at me like that I’d be dragging him to my car so fast.” She snorted and you almost choked on your drink. “I think you’re the only girl on this island he hasn’t fucked.”
“Thank God for that.” You responded a bit too quickly, hoping to hide the slight bit of hurt her words brought to you. You always knew you weren’t good enough for Rafe. You always pretended not to care, but you’d be lying.
You left alone that night. And Rafe couldn’t hold back the urge to follow close behind you. He didn’t know when he got in his car after you. Or when he started driving to your house. Or when he got out of his car. He wasn’t sure why, it wasn’t like he was going to knock on your door. Or maybe he would. He ran a hand over his face, squeezing his eyes shut as he swept his hair away from his face, exasperated. The very small, but still present, rational side of his mind told him to get the fuck out. And he was going to, until he saw you emerge from your room on the second floor, and you stood right in front of the large window cell. He panicked, running to hide from sight, behind a large tree, but he didn’t leave, he didn’t want to.
His jaw dropped, his eyes blowing wide open at the sight of you, untying your bikini top and just letting it fall, right then and there. The sight shot straight to his cock. What the fuck were you thinking? What if someone saw you? The thought of you exposing yourself like that made his jaw lock, but his now hard cock in his shorts was much more evident. He couldn’t look away. He was pissed he couldn’t see below your stomach, especially when he saw you crouch as you presumably took off your bottoms, too.
Rafe almost moaned at the thought.
And just like that you were gone. And you didn’t come back to the window. It almost felt like the universe was playing a cruel fucking prank on him. Now he had to drive home with an uncomfortable hard on in his shorts. That pissed him off even more.
~~~~~~
This became a habit for Rafe. He would aggressively scroll through your instagram page multiple times a day, hoping that he’d find out where you were for the night. But not in a weird way. He just wanted to see you. But he still hadn’t found the way to get you to talk to him first. He was starting to see the flaw in that plan. But alas, he couldn’t talk to you himself if he didn’t know where to find you. And sometimes, he’d find himself just standing outside your window, hiding behind that same tree. Sometimes you’d sit by the window cell, play around with your hair, sometimes you would read. And sometimes, you’d walk around completely naked, in full view of Rafe. How many times he all but sped home to rub one out was actually embarrassing.
Rafe was tired of this little game. Though he didn’t quite realize it was a game at all. You had no proof, but you knew. That one time you caught him nearly running back to his car was proof enough for you. So you kept going, until he snapped. You didn’t anticipate just how fast he would break.
“Guess who showed up.” Your friend whispered in your ear. You casually glanced over your shoulder to find none other than Rafe, with Topper and Kelce right behind him like lost puppies. It had to be criminal how hot this man looked. The polo shirt he wore was hanging on by a thread under his biceps and you had to force yourself to tear your eyes away.
“Yeah, so? He shows up to every party.” You shrugged, pretending not to catch on to the blatant connection. She rolled her eyes at you.
“Oh, so he casually shows up to the one party you’ve come to all week? Don’t you think it’s a little odd?”
You shrugged again. You were sure it was a coincidence. Sure it wasn’t because you posted a selfie of your pretty makeup and your pretty dress with the location of the party you got invited to. And surely the way Rafe was staring at you right now had nothing to do with the way your dress accentuated your chest perfectly, showing enough but still leaving some to the imagination. But it wasn’t like he hadn’t seen them before.
“Nope. Anyway, want a drink?” You smiled at her innocently, completely ignoring her Rafe interrogation. She shot you a pointed look, surely she would grill you about it later, but she relented nonetheless.
With a smile you skipped over to the bar, your dress riding up ever so slightly as you leaned over the wooden bar to speak over the loud music. Rafe nearly dropped his beer, his eyes going from your hair down to your ass. He couldn’t take this anymore.
“Yeah, whatever bro. I’ll be right back.” He cut off Topper as he went on about one thing or another, he didn’t wait for a response and he approached you in long strides. He sniffed softly, running a hand through his hair before opening his mouth.
You heard your name spoken in a deep voice, with a drink in each hand, you whipped around, not expecting to run straight into a solid, muscled chest.
“Hey—oh fuck,” Rafe cursed when the drinks you were holding spilled all over his shirt, and over the front of your dress. You gasped loudly, nearly squealing when the ice cubes slipped down your chest.
“Rafe! What the actual fuck.” You almost screamed at him, desperately attempting to wipe off the alcohol soaking your dress, the front now sticking to your tits. Rafe wanted to say something, maybe apologize, but he was mouth agape at the sight of your soaked chest, it took him a minute to process.
“Shit, my bad. I didn’t mean to,” he swallowed, his own shirt starting to stick to his chest. Which didn’t slip past you, even in your anger. But you couldn’t think about that right now. “I just wanted to talk to you.”
“Yeah, alright. I’m sure you totally didn’t want to embarrass me by spilling drinks all over me. Grow the fuck up, Rafe.” You huffed, feeling everyone’s eyes on you. You could feel your face fluster with embarrassment and you had to force yourself not to cry. You had tried so hard to remove yourself from the old you, the one everyone made fun of, the one that got asked out to prom as a prank, the one everyone stared at in disgust. And you felt like that girl all over again.
Rafe didn’t even have time to argue, you were running off before he could get a word in. He groaned, discomfort settling in from his shirt sticking to his skin.
“Way to go bro. You didn’t have to embarrass the freakshow like that though.” Rafe sneered in disgust at your high school nickname and he rolled his eyes, shrugging off the casual hand on his shoulder.
“Shut the fuck up before I shove broken glass down your throat.”
If there was something in this world that Rafe could never have, it would be patience. And this little game had his sanity wearing very thin.
He didn’t know exactly when he ended up at your front door, fist pounding loudly as he called your name. His bike was somewhere on the lawn, he didn’t bother to hide it this time. He swore if you didn’t open this door right now he would kick it open. He stepped back, his jaw tight as he waited a few seconds before doing something more drastic. Then, the door swung open. And there you were.
“I swear to God Rafe.” You sighed loudly, crossing your arms over your now slightly damp chest, having somewhat dried off the front of your dress. Rafe was taken aback by the appearance of your glasses, however. He hadn’t seen you wear them since you came back. Were you always this cute in them?
No, focus.
“You didn’t even let me talk back there! I didn’t mean to run into you like that, I swear.” He took a step closer, slightly leaning down to talk close to your face. You couldn’t help but stare at him, eyebrows furrowed with mistrust.
“Oh right, so was it just a coincidence that you were standing right behind me like a wall?” You shot back, shooting him a suspicious look. He rolled his eyes at you, sighing heavily. “If you wanted to look at them better you could’ve just asked! You didn’t have to knock drinks all over my dress.”
The words left your mouth in a haze. Fast and angrily as you motioned your hands around. You didn’t realize what you said until the look in Rafe’s eyes shifted. Going from confused to downright sinful. He tilted his head at you, crowding your personal space with his big fucking body. You realized then that you really fucked up.
“What’d you say?” He asked, his voice low as he made you step back into your house. He followed you, his face close to yours and you swallowed.
“Huh?” Play dumb, sure.
“Uh-uh, don’t try to be all innocent now. What the fuck did you say?” He repeated, one of his large hands coming up to grip your jaw. You swallowed, your lips pulled into a pout.
“You really weren’t that sneaky.” You finally admitted, throwing all logic out of the window knowing you both got caught red-handed by the other. Though Rafe didn’t look embarrassed or even remorseful, if anything he looked pleasantly amused. Impressed even.
“Well, shit.” A grin pulled at his lips as he laughed, a rush of adrenaline flowing through his already amped up body. “You little whore. You were striping in front of your fuckin’ window on purpose, weren’t you?”
“I didn’t know for sure but, I heard your bike a couple of times.” You shrugged, trying to hide the devious smile on your lips. Rafe scoffed humorously, in utter disbelief. “You following me on insta was kind of a given, too.”
“You are..” He leaned down, his soft lips mere inches away from yours as he blew out a chuckle, “A dirty little slut. You have any fuckin’ idea what you’ve been doin’ to me? Hm?” He squeezed your jaw between his fingers, forcing your head back to make sure your eyes were on him.
The words that left his mouth made you rub your thighs together, heat forming between them at the thought of being this close to Rafe, knowing he was on the brink of madness, all because of you. You could see it in his eyes, that utter need to fuck you, take you over and over, or else he would go insane.
“Thought I wasn’t your type.” You shot back, pettiness lacing your tongue. A groan of annoyance rumbled in his chest.
“I didn’t know I was your type.”
“You’re everyone’s type, since when are you humble?” You mocked him with a small laugh, but it quickly died in your chest when his fingers fell to your throat, and he dug his fingers with the faintest pressure. You nearly moaned.
“Well you’re my type right now. Your tits sure fuckin’ are.” He bit his lip softly, making sure his eyes were on yours when he spoke again, “bet your pussy is my type too. Lemme find out, hm?”
If you weren’t wet before, you sure were now. You nearly moaned out loud, his words alone bending you to his will. Not that it would take much work.
Rafe didn’t get to say another word, you were pulling him down by the back of his neck and you kissed him, and you kissed him really fucking hard. He liked your intensity. He craved to find out just what else you were hiding behind your innocent and sweet girl facade. He slipped his tongue into your mouth, his fingers lacing into your hair to force your head back for him. And you happily let him. His other hand shamelessly grabbed at your ass, squeezing it as he kissed you. You couldn’t help but moan into his mouth.
“My bedroom is—“ you were breathless as you muttered against his lips. Rafe chuckled, cutting you off as he effortlessly hoisted you around his waist.
“I know where your fuckin’ room is.” Of course he did.
You giggled as Rafe tossed you on your bed, biting your bottom lip as you watched him pull his polo over his head and your jaw fell wide open at the sight.
“Dude why are you like, so hot? Fuck.” Your eyes were big as you nearly drooled at the sight of his muscled torso. He was so ripped it was unbelievable. Rafe smirked at you, happy to hear that you were stroking his ego. He quickly joined you in your bed, straddling you as he hovered over you.
“Yeah?” He leaned down, lips curved up into a grin as he pressed an open mouth kiss to your lips. You nodded as his tongue laced with yours, a string of spit connecting your lips when he pulled back. “You should've just talked to me then. Could’ve had me much sooner. You got any fuckin’ idea how long I’ve been wanting to fuck you stupid?”
“How was I supposed to know? You didn’t want me before. I didn’t know.” You pouted, a bit of hurt laced in your voice. He rolled his eyes at you, long fingers coming to squeeze your face. You held your breath as his blue eyes pinned you.
“No, you just wanted to punish me. You wanted to parade yourself around Figure 8 with your pretty little dresses and your innocent little smile. But then at night you’d strip yourself naked in front of your window.” He huffed out the words, frustration coating his tongue. You shrugged. “You wanted to act like a slut, so I’ll fuck you like one. But first, I wanna taste your pussy.”
The way your body shuddered when Rafe moved down the bed to settle between your legs was embarrassing. You were already shaking and he hadn’t even touched you. You held your breath in anticipation as he reached underneath your dress, tugging your panties down your legs. Rafe grinned at the blue lacy panties that matched your white and navy blue flowy dress. You pretended not to notice him casually shove the lace into his back pocket.
“Take off your dress. I wanna look at your tits.” You totally would punch any other man for speaking to you like this, but Rafe? He could speak to you in any way he wanted, especially when he was in between your legs, nearly drooling at the sight of your already soaked cunt.
You complied, unzipping the side of your dress before pulling it over your head, to reveal that you were indeed not wearing a bra today. Rafe nearly groaned at the sight.
“Fuck baby. You’re such a slut, did you plan this?” He laughed, shaking his head in disbelief. You opened your mouth to respond, but the words were replaced by a gasp when he dipped his head and licked a stripe between your folds without a single warning.
It was actually embarrassing how quickly you were falling apart. You were a sobbing shaking mess as soon as he started to circle his tongue around your clit, sloppy sounds leaving his mouth as he moved his head up and down. Rafe was enjoying this as much as you were, how many times he fantasized about shoving his tongue into your cunt, what you would taste like, how you would sound like for him. It was driving him insane. He was groaning and moaning as he lapped at your soaking cunt.
“You taste so fuckin’ good baby. You got any idea how many times I went home to rub one out thinkin’ about your pussy?” He groaned, spitting on your clit as he looked up at you, catching the way your back arched off the bed as your eyes rolled back into your head. “Should’ve just taken you. You would’ve let me, right doll? If I slipped in through your window and fucked this sweet little pussy in the middle of the night, wouldn’t even care as long as you got some dick, right?”
His words slipped past you, only the feeling of his tongue back on your clit. You couldn’t think straight, your pussy was pulsing, it just felt so good, you didn’t remember the last time a man ate you like this, with such intensity and fervor. Rafe looked up at you again, amused by the way you squirmed and writhed on the bed. With a grin, he wrapped both arms under your knees and folded them damn near against your chest, spreading you open for him. And you couldn’t run away either.
“I asked you a question.” He spat into your clit again, this time watching as the string of saliva ran down your clit before licking it.
“Ah! Rafe! Fuck—y-yes! You can do whatever you want to me!” You sputtered, your voice breaking into a cry when he slipped his tongue into your hole. His nose bumped your clit as he fucked you with his tongue and you were nearly digging your nails into his scalp as you clutched his hair. You wanted to come so bad. “Please Rafe. I’m gonna come.”
Rafe groaned into your pussy at your words. His tongue was replaced by two thick fingers and he curled them perfectly, enough to have you thanking the Gods for having your own house separate from your parents' main house.
“Oh, fuck yeah. You look so pretty begging me to let you come. Say it again, say it again just like that f’me.” His eyes never left you as his tongue was back on your clit, his fingers slipping and curling inside your throbbing cunt in the most delicious way possible. You couldn’t even form a thought, let alone a sentence. You sobbed, your pussy pulsing around his thick fingers.
“Please Rafe! Wanna come!” You didn’t have to say it twice, the second Rafe hummed at you, his tongue lapping at your swollen clit as his fingers fucked you raw, you were over. You were a shaking mess as you came, all you could do was gasp and cry as his fingers fucked you through your orgasm, and he happily continued to basically make out with your cunt.
“That was so fuckin’ good baby. You were so good f’me.” He grunted into your thigh as he lazily wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
Your eyes were screwed shut, heaving as you were still jolting from the aftershock. When you opened your eyes again you found Rafe already hovering above you, his blue eyes staring down at you with devious intentions.
“You totally look so fuckin’ hot with those glasses. You should like suck my dick with them on.” You blinked at him, mouth slightly open which made him grin at you. “Not right now, I wanna be inside you now.”
Rafe didn’t waste any fucking time in pressing your knees to your chest, your glistening pussy on full display and ready for his cock.
“I’m gonna fuck this pussy like I fuckin’ own it.” He spat, his jaw slightly falling open as he slipped into you. Your eyes rolled back almost instantly, the feeling of his cock stretching you was better than you could have ever imagined. He was so fucking big, too. “All these fuckin’ assholes lookin’ at you and I’m the only one that gets to fill this pussy, you got that?”
You nodded harshly as he bottomed out, and without a warning he pulled out only to slam back into you, his cock damn near splitting you open. You threw your arms around his neck, your fingers lacing around his hair as he slammed into you, filling you deeper than anyone ever has before.
“Just you Rafe! It’s always been you!” You grabbed his face, pulling him into a messy kiss. Your words made his cock twitch and all he wanted right then and there was to keep you here, beneath him, stuffed with his cock and never let you leave.
“Why didn’t you come back sooner, huh? This pussy is so perfect, so tight. Just f’me. Want you all the fuckin’ time baby.” He grunted into your mouth, both arms caging you in as he drilled into you, his cock so deep you could almost feel him in your fucking guts.
A string of pathetic sounds, a string of uh-uh-uh’s left your lips as he damn near folded you in half, your cute nails dragging down his back, surely to leave red angry marks. Rafe grunted in delight, his large hand coming to grab your throat. He definitely didn’t miss the way you pussy clenched around him then.
“Shit, you’re so fucking hot, yknow that? Such a pretty little slut f’me. You’re gonna let me use you, hm? Do whatever I want with you?” He squeezed your throat, forcing your head up and down in a ‘yes’ gesture and you moaned, eyes screwed shut. “Mhmm, exactly. Open your fuckin’ mouth.”
The sound that left your throat was so pathetic Rafe laughed. You did as you were told, opening your eyes as you opened your mouth, you watched him with glazed eyes as he leaned down and spat straight into your mouth. He watched you jaw slacked as you happily swallowed, feeling the bump under his fingers.
“You’re so fuckin’ nasty, I love it.” He leaned down again, his fingers tightening around your throat as he spat into your mouth again, but this time he kissed you, it was so messy and sloppy and you fucking loved it. “Act like a slut, I’ll treat you like a slut.”
“Mhmm yes! I’m such a slut, just for you.” You choked out, your throat raw and sore from the grip he had on it. He shuddered at your words, his cock twitching as he dropped his free hand to rub harsh circles around your clit. Your eyes rolled so far back you actually looked like you were spasming. “O-oh god. I’m gonna come—! Please Rafe—!”
“Ohh, feels so good, doesn’t it baby? You wanna gush all over my dick huh?” He spoke right into your cheek, his sweaty cheek pressed right against yours as he held you by your throat, your glasses getting squished by him and you were praying to the Gods that he didn’t end up breaking them.
“Please, please, please Rafe!” You sobbed, your soaked cunt pulsing around his cock, your thighs sore and shaking as you hanged on by a thread, so close to reaching your limit.
“That’s it doll, squeeze the fuck out of me, come all over my cock, just like that.” He rubbed your clit and drilled into your already abused hole until you were gushing, you whole body shaking as you fell into a fit of sobs. Rafe wasn’t one to come just like that, but the sight of you so utterly fucked out and sobbing almost made him spill right then and there.
“Ah! Rafe!” You whined as he kept fucking you, his rough hips and harsh pace not once slowing down, driving you to the point of overstimulation. You squirmed, almost as if you wanted to run away from him. He tisked at you, releasing your throat to grab your arm, holding you down as he gripped the headboard with the other, damn near crushing you with his big fucking body.
“Oh, where the fuck are you going, huh? Who said you could run away? Nah, you wanted it, so now you take it like a good girl.” He reveled in the way you took his cock, jaw agape, eyes screwed shut and forehead screwed into a frown of pleasure.
You were practically done for when he carelessly shoved your face to the side, damn near knocking your glasses off your face. His lips sucked marks on your neck as your pussy convulsed around his cock for the second time. Your head was spinning so hard and your vision was so blurry, you didn’t even know what planet you were on.
“Hmph! Rafe!” You yelped but he cut you off, a particularly sharp thrust making you slide up the mattress.
“Shut up. I’m gonna fill you. Gonna ruin every other man for you.” He spat, his voice raspy and his hair falling in front of his eyes as he chased his high.
“Please Rafe, give it to me. Want it so bad!” Well that fucking did it. A moan rumbled in Rafe’s throat as he spilled himself inside you. His eyes were screwed shut and his mouth hung wide open. He snapped his hips, one, two more times before he sat still with a long breath.
You laid speechless, blinking softly as you tried to slow your racing heart, and process that this actually happened. Sixteen year-old you would totally freak out. Rafe Cameron just fucked the life out of you. Rafe was looking down at you with a pussy-drunk look, his eyes slightly closed and his lips were parted. Not that you could see him that well. Your glasses were so smudged and foggy all you could see was blurry shapes.
“I just fucked you dumb and you’re making that face?” Rafe narrowed his eyes at you as leaned on his forearms, holding up his weight as your legs fell to either side of him. You frowned at him, confused.
“What face?”
“You’re pouting and shit.” He smirked, squeezing your face between his fingers and you shot him a pointed look, groaning.
“I forgot to take off my glasses. They’re all dirty now. Can’t see shit.” You rolled your eyes, pulling your face away from his grip as you took your glasses off and tossed them on your nightstand.
“Well you looked cute and shit so. You’re fine.” He pressed a kiss to your pouty lips before laying down beside you, the feeling of your mixed release making you hiss softly.
Rafe lied with an arm behind his head and he couldn’t help but grin when he caught you looking at him with your lip pulled between your teeth. He nudged you over with his head and you happily settled underneath his arm with your head resting on his chest. You didn’t take him for a cuddling type but you’d happily take this.
You sighed heavily, just wanting to rest your sore muscles for a bit when you heard him speak again.
“So are you gonna follow me back on insta now or what?”
#rafe cameron smut#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron#rafe cameron x female reader#rafe cameron x you#drew starkey
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strip for me.
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part three
pairings: hyungline x reader (sunghoon & heeseung)
synopsis: hyung line got you trapped in a situation that you can’t get away from.
wc: 6k
warnings: smut, minor dni, bullying (not promoting violence or bullying), degrading, dirty talks, curses, masturbation, hyung line being mean. this is not proof read.
note: next part will be fivesome with the hyungline so it’ll take time. be patient. please reblog and reply to. it is highly encouraged. thank you so much for your support. part one (here) ; part two (here)
slutofpsh 2024 © all rights reserved.
your grip over your phone tightens while a text message flashes through its screen. a one sentence text is all it takes for your whole system to feel thrilled.
‘i’ll see you at the locker's room after my morning practice.’ — psh.
that was all it says. sunghoon’s not the texter type. out of all of them, he’s the least you expect to appear on your messages and so to receive something from him makes your stomach churns.
it’s still very early and after you checked your phone, that’s the first thing you saw.
Park Sunghoon is the team captain of your school’s ice hockey team and every thursday morning, they have practice before going to class. today is that day.
you didn’t reply to him and honestly, you’re contemplating whether to go meet him or not. obviously, something like what happened yesterday may occur. And no matter how bad does it sound, a hint of excitement stirs at the depth of your mind.
despite it, worry and agitation overpowers you. sunghoon is a very mean guy. you’ve done it with the four of them, and he’s the roughest when he’s mad or if he’s trying to punish you.
jake mentioned yesterday that it was a punishment. jay may have didn’t mention it, but his odd behavior was enough for you to conclude that something’s going on.
you spent the whole night thinking of what did you do wrong, backtracking over the things happened the day prior today. even no matter how hard you strain your brain, nothing pops inside your head. nothing. none.
still in trance, a new message appears on sunghoon’s chat box.
‘don’t even think of ditching me or i’ll be seriously be pissed.’ — psh.
you can imagine his brows hardly furrowed, jaw clenched and eyes cold as ice burning through his phone screen as he tap those words to send you. that was enough to make you feel scared. sunghoon’s not very nice, what more if he’s pissed off?
so before you even get deeply caught into your thoughts, you pushed yourself up from the comfort of your bed and started preparing to go meet him.
on the other hand, the sound of skates sliding through the ice and nonstop smashing of hockey sticks echoes all around the auditorium. players chants and shouts at each other as they try their best to make a score. if you aren’t too familiar with the members, you’ll think they don't belong in the same group.
but they do. it was just a normal practice session, only park sunghoon, the captain and also the team’s ace, are a little bit more worked up at the moment. his eyes dark and his moves are more aggressive than usual.
his teammates that are currently on his team in this game cheered when he made another score. ice splatters as he abruptly tried to make a stop. he pants as he removes his head gear.
“come on,” one long slide and a newbie made it near him. he was panting so bad as he raises his arms. “its just practice man.” he says towards sunghoon.
the old members looks at him in horror, giving a hint not to say anything else as sunghoon faces him with a placid look on his face.
sunghoon kept silent before advancing towards the newbie. he stared right at his face for a while before grabbing him by his shirt, jaw clenching. the other varsities panics and starts to discard his hold, but he was too strong.
“if you can’t keep up with me then that’s not my problem.” he spat and gave this chilling gaze at the newbie. the obvious fear flickers through the younger’s eyes as his mouth hangs open, unable to utter a single word.
“sunghoon! that’s enough.” thankfully, their coach arrived just in time to stop the fight.
from the chairs outside the rink, one pair of eyes watches closely. his half-lidded eyes stares lazily at the scene unfolding, totally unbothered by it. his back rests at the chair and legs crossed, conveying so much dominance.
heeseung saw how sunghoon kept his grip on his teammates uniform, clearly being stubborn. he's not even surprised. typical sunghoon who never listens and always lets his temper control him.
sunghoon gave the poor boy one cold stare before pushing him off as he lets go of his jersey. he, then slides out of the rink.
“hoon.” heeseung calls that made the younger halt his steps.
he cranes his neck and look at him with blank eyes, waiting for what his hyung is about to say. heeseung trailed his gaze from the rink towards him.
“remember not to be carried away.” he reminds him.
“i know.” he shortly replied, still feeling so heated from the practice.
“and don’t hurt her.” he says in a very low tone.
sunghoon scoffs, “i won’t.” his eyes darkens as his lips stretched into a smirk, showing off his fangs. “at least not in that way.”
your head peeks slightly to look while the players are leaving their locker one by one. it’s been almost ten minutes since you arrived the school. as expected, there’s only a few around and the whole building is still vacant.
you’re still busy checking when the hairs on your neck raised, chills running down your spine. a presence can be felt from behind you. slowly, you craned your neck to look over your shoulder.
wide broad chest is what you saw first. you trailed your gaze upwards to see lee heeseung staring down on you with a deadpan look on his handsome face.
a light gasp escapes your lips and tries to step back once.
“u-uh,” you gulped and lowered your head to avoid looking at his eyes. “sunghoon asked me t-to meet him here.”
you have no idea why on earth are you explaining to him. it just feels right to let him know why you are currently here, early in the morning, when your class starts a bit hour later.
“i know.” he shortly replies.
of course he knew. is there something else that he doesn’t know? what you noticed from lee heeseung is that besides being a very reserved individual, he’s also very observant. if the other boys loves being the center of attention, this tall gorgeous boy prefers to be on the corner, watching.
you tried glancing if he’s still looking and after meeting his gaze for a split second, you folded and glanced away.
he sighs heavily, “you guys have at least 45 minutes until our first class starts. don’t be late.” he says under his breath and starts walking away to the direction of your building.
the further he is away from you, the more your breathing stables. something about him intimidates and makes you nervous as hell. even before you can look at him to check if he’s already far away, he talks again.
“y/n,” in a speed of light, you faced him with flushed cheeks.
“y-yeah?”
his blank eyes slightly softens, “he’s in a very bad mood. if he gets out of hand, calm him down.”
his words confused you right away. first, sunghoon’s out of mood most of the times. second, why is he saying these words like as if you know perfectly what to do?
“b-but how..?”
he kept a placid look before turning his back to start walking again, leaving with, “you know how.”
you’re left standing awkwardly. heeseung’s already gone and you haven’t moved an inch. his words echoes inside your head repeatedly. it still confusing you how there’s a hint of confidence lingering through his words.
a vibration from your phone is what snapped you back to reality.
‘come here.’ — psh.
that was your cue. without thinking twice, your feet moves like it has a mind of its own, walking and leading you towards the locker room of the ice hockey team. sunghoon’s lure.
it was quiet and slightly dark. when you made it to the far end, you saw him sat at one of the benches. his head didn’t even whip to look at your way when you arrive, like he was expecting you and nobody else.
his elbows bore on his knees as he was leaning, head hanging low.
“sunghoon?” you calls him using your soft voice.
sunghoon finally lifts his head and look at your direction. there you are. you look beautiful wearing the school uniform neatly, hair brushed and eyes staring at him with a hint of concern.
he didn’t show any reaction to his face that made you feel agitated. heeseung’s words flashes back on you, that he’s in a bad mood. it scares you even more, adding to the tension.
“why are you standing so far, doll?”
his husky voice slightly echoes inside the wide room. its just the two of you here and that thought was enough to make your heart race. his endearment for you stirs something in you. how he always love to call you doll, in a sexy and taunting way.
you trudges closer, but still keeping a safe distant.
his dark eyes burns as he run his stare over you in a very dangerous way. he looks so attractive wearing his just his sweats and a white plain t-shirt, hair still a bit damp from shower. even from a distance, you can smell his manly scent that always makes you dizzy in a good way.
“kneel in front of me.” he demands.
you can feel your knee wobbling as you make your way towards him. slowly, you kneeled down. sunghoon almost lose his mind by the sight of you like this. he almost lets out a low groan when you follow him without saying any words, complying to him. submitting.
he leans backwards, resting one hand to the bench support his weight, the other palming his hard dick. you can see the outline of his cock through his sweatpants and blood rushes to your cheeks.
“take my cock out.”
his request made you blink and look at him. this shouldn’t surprise you anymore. before you come here, you’re expecting that things can escalate like this. but the fear of one of his teammates walking on you, makes you hesitating.
“what if s-someone comes here?”
“i’ll kill them.” he says those words without hesitation that made your heart drop.
“sunghoon—”
“you know i don’t have much patience, right?” his tone stingy and the crease on his forehead tells you that he’s not very happy on you delaying him from getting his desired blow.
you decided to keep your mouth shut and slowly reaches to his pants to pull it a bit, freeing his hardened cock. it was so hard and the tip so red. the sight makes you blush even more. if someone is asked to describe sunghoon’s manhood, they will probably say that its as beautiful as he is.
“go on.” he spat.
you gulped and licked your lips once before leaning in to wrap your lips to his dick. sunghoon bit his lower lip at the feeling of your hot mouth around him. he misses this. he wanted to curse so loud and to just shove it into you, but he stopped himself from doing so.
“fuck, just like that.” he moans and tried to open his eyes so he can watch you bobbing your head, getting your pace.
he saw how your hair covers your pretty face from his view and so he raised one of his hand to gather them and hold them for you.
“i got you, baby.” he whispers that made your core twitch.
you continued bobbing your head and sucking his dick, tasting sunghoon in your mouth. it was a familiar one, something that got inside your mouth a lot of time. later on, you can feel him thrusting his hips, meeting you. he was always rough and loves abusing your throat. he doesn’t care if you gag, he would even love that.
“fuck, fuck, fuck...” he growls and roughly shove his dick inside your mouth.
“gonna use that fucking mouth.” he says, “so pretty. so so damn pretty.” his compliments rings, but you’re too occupied on sucking him good.
there’s something about the way sunghoon moans. his voice whenever you give him immense pleasure serves as music to your ears. it was so erotic and just how he utters dirty words adds up to everything.
when you feel him almost reaching his climax, you’re so ready to accept and take it all. just a couple more deep thrust, sunghoon shoots his hot cum in the depths of your throat. groaning and moaning out of pleasure.
he lets go of your hair and pants while watching you suck him dry, letting out a faint ‘pop’ as you let him go.
“let me see.” he whispers and you open your mouth to show him how you swallowed every bit of it.
“good doll.” his words sent direct tingling feeling to your core, making you rub your thighs.
“we’re not yet done.” he says and stood up from the bench. he grabbed your arm to make you stand and guided you to sit down.
“strip for me.” that familiar line again.
with trembling hands, you try to take off the buttons of your blouse. sunghoon, as a very impatient guy he is, he curses and yanked your uniform, causing some of its buttons to fly off.
“sunghoon, what the he—” your words got interrupted when he pushed your body flat to the bench, making you lay down.
“shut the fuck up.” he says rudely and hovers above you.
his hand searches for your underwear and you whimper when his finger grazes your clit. he smirks, feeling your wetness.
“so wet for me. you’re such a slut, aren’t you?” he taunts that you answered with a faint ‘no’.
you tried to look away and avoid his gaze out of embarrasment for actually getting aroused for such foul situation. he scoffed and roll his eyes before removing your panties aggressively.
“i’m going to fuck you until you’re unable to think straight anymore.” and he aligned his head on your hole.
your brows furrowed, eyes shutting tightly. he traces your slit using his head before finally sliding it all in one go, making you gasp.
“fuck, look at my cock disappearing inside you.” he said and even ask you to lift your head so to see.
he was definitely right. he is fully buried inside you, and the pleasure it too much. you feel so full with all of him. he started pulling it out, only to slide it all back in again.
“u-ugh,” you let out a moan that clicked something in him, making him rut his dick rough and fast.
“s-sunghoon,” you whimpered, lips shaking as he continues to abuse your hole. “p-please slow down.” you plead.
he didn’t listen. in fact, he acts like as if he cannot hear any of your words. he placed both of his hands on your side, face above you as he continue relentlessly fucking you. his silver necklace hangs out from his shirt and now started moving along with his movement, slightly slapping to your pretty face. his brows sexily furrowed, jaw clenching while he utters low curses.
“i’m going to fucking breed you. you want that, doll?” he asks in a taunting way that made you whimper even more.
he scoffed at how you look beneath him. trying so hard not to let out your moan, when he can clearly see how much you’re enjoying and feeling so good from how deliciously he fucks you deep.
“you already have four dicks to fuck you and you still can’t be contented? what a bad girl.” he clicked his tongue and you opened your eyes to met his. it darkens as he started to roughly fuck you.
“you just never learn.” he growls and you can see the hint of anger in his eyes.
it scared you and your hand held his arm in attempt to push him away. but he was too strong. he didn’t budge and yank your hand, dismissing any chances of stopping him.
“who’s my pretty doll?” his grin grew wider, eyes full of nothing but lust for you.
you kept your mouth shut while still looking him straight at his eyes, tears brimming your eyes. he’s dominating you from above and you look so helpless beneath him.
when he didn’t heard an answer from you, he halts his hip from rutting you that made you whine slightly. he gripped your arm tight that you’re so sure it will leave a mark later, eyes piercing.
“who’s my pretty doll, y/n?” he asks in a very low tone, like a warning.
“answer me.” he commands that sent shivers to your spine.
you whined, “m-me.”
a smirk spreads across his face and leans in to connect his red luscious lips to your swollen ones, giving you a messy kiss. a string of saliva stretches when he leans away.
“you belong to me. you belong to us.” his words with so much emphasis that you can really tell how serious he is.
“i will fucking kill whoever tries to take you.”
“sunghoon, wait...” you can see how he’s starting to move in faster pace, almost making you see stars. one of his hand moves and reaches for your neck, slightly choking you.
“hoon—”
“that fucker, who do he think he is?! he’s nobody!”
you gasp and tried to take heavier breaths, trying not to be too distracted by how much pleasure sunghoon’s dick is giving you.
heeseung’s words then flashes through your mind. he said you can calm him down. how? obviously, this is the right time to show that skill.
instead of feeling scared of him, you snaked your hand on his nape and pulled his face closer. his forehead touches yours as you glance straight to his eyes, trying hard not to roll them up due to the imminent orgasm you’re about to have.
sunghoon was caught off-guard at your action. his eyes widen while still rutting his hip deep and rough. you look so beautiful from this distance, your pretty eyes filled with tears, cheeks flushed and lips swollen. all because of him. all for him.
“i’m s-sorry.” you mumbled close to his face.
he was at daze, his movement getting slower but his thrust remains deep, reaching all the good spots of your insides. almost making you crazy. you trap your lower lip in between your teeth, getting totally distracted.
“i’m so s-sorry, hoon.” you repeat your words, this time a little bit more softer.
while your foreheads still attached, you placed a gentle kiss on his face then flash a smile.
“i’m here.” and you heaved a sigh, “i’m yours. stop being mad, please.”
and with that, sunghoon relaxes, his breathing becoming more calm and his eyes softening as they stare at you.
he leans away to drop a kiss at your forehead before connecting them again as he start fucking you roughly. he groans and kisses your lips from time to time, moaning your name along with your sweet whimpers.
“f-fuck, baby. i’m close.” he whispers.
“me t-too.”
sunghoon dicked you down even faster trying to chase that climax. he kisses you, tongue dancing with yours, salivas mixing up. both of you are unbothered, mind filled by nothing but your lust and want to release.
“shit.” he curses as he shoot his cum inside your dripping cunt, your legs starts to shake, cumming as well.
he continued sliding his cock in and out, chasing both of your highs while making out. he moves away and watched how his dick slides out of you. his stares wandered all over your body, eyes full of desires.
“i’m sorry.” he mumbles as he caress your arm that he hold too tight a while ago. it was so red, his hand left a print.
your mouth gapped in amusement. did you just heard thee park sunghoon say sorry? he’s not type to do that. and when did he ever talk in a soft tone?
“does it hurt?” he asks, using that foreign tone again.
you smiled a little, shaking your head to assure him. he stares right at your eyes for a while before dipping his head down for another kiss. your eyes shut as you accept his kisses with no complains.
the bell from the next building is what snaps you back to your senses. his kisses moves to your chin then down to your neck.
“h-hoon, its almost time for our class. we need to go back.” your fingers run through his soft hair.
you wait for him to hiss at you for actually touching it as you are well aware how sensitive he is when it comes to his hair. but none. no complain or side comments about it.
he gave you a few more pecks before finally letting you go.
“you broke my uniform.” your lips pursed while staring down.
he just finished cleaning you up and you’re making yourself look presentable when you remembered how he broke the buttons of your blouse after pulling it hardly.
sunghoon smirks and opens his locker. he retrieves a uniform then handed it to you.
“here, you can use mine.”
the boys and girl’s top uniform is pretty similar, the only difference is the girls are shorter. some even had theirs cropped to style it in their own preference.
you accepted it and removes your broken uniform. he trudges closer then gently took the blouse from your hand so you can wear his easily. his eyes watches you closely making you feel a bit shy.
he helped you wear his uniform. “thank you.” you said, blushing.
he smirks and dips his head for a quick kiss. you’re too surprised to even say anything. you’re just too shock how he's acting right now.
“let’s go. we’re already late. heeseung hyung will be pissed.” and he grabs your things to carry it himself.
you knocked twice at your classroom when you arrived. the two of you are late and you’re silently praying the teacher's not in a bad mood today.
she cracks the door open and your homeroom teacher scans you up and down. her strict eyes watches you, eyebrow raising.
“ms. y/n. you are late.” she says.
“i’m s-sorry, ma'am.”
she was left with no choice but to let you inside. everyone’s eyes are darted at you and its very uncomfortable. your hand unconsciously plays through the edge of your uniform— more like sunghoon's. they gave you a look of curiosity. why you’re late when you’re someone never late for a class and whose uniform is that? clearly, it wasn’t yours.
before you reach your chair, you have to walk pass jake’s. his piercing and playful eyes are darted at you, grin so wide because he knew exactly where you’ve been.
“lips so swollen, sweetheart.” he stated that made you blush even more. some students who seats near him, heard it and gave you this look.
“mr. park.” is what your teacher said the moment you sat down to your chair.
when you look over the door, park sunghoon walks inside at ease. not even bothered that he’s late. his bag hangs over his shoulder while one of his hand holds yours.
“practice.” he reasoned shortly before heading your way, not even sparing your teacher a glance.
he ignored the eyes watching him and focused his stares right at you. the three other boys shrugs their shoulder off and boredly face front. jake’s smirking, jay rolled his eyes and heeseung watches carefully
sunghoon placed your things on the side of your table and leaned down to look through your eyes.
“here, baby.” he says casually then messed your hair before walking to his chair.
lips of some girls from your class are gapped open at the scene they just witnessed. they cannot believe it and wondered what’s between you and park sunghoon. they are beyond surprise and you can’t help but to just shrug it off. what more if they finds out his three other friends are involve too?
the classes continued normally, or that’s what you try to make yourself believe. the stares from your classmates are often darted at you. still not over about the scene a while ago. it was slowly getting annoying.
while writing down on your paper, you heard a chair being dragged to your side.
“hey,” your head looked over jake who just sat down.
“yeah?”
he tilts his head, “did you have fun?”
your mouth hangs open, what happened a while ago flashes back to your mind instantly because of his question. jake saw it and he grins before scoffing.
“you did.” he touches your chin to make you look up, “your face says it all.” he added and grins, masking the emotion slowly igniting inside his chest.
you gulped and licked your lips.
“j-jake,” you called him.
he raised one of his brows, waiting for what you’re going to say.
“about beomgyu...” your word halts.
the instant change on his mood just proves you that he has something to do with how the boys are treating you. his eyes turned cold, jaw clenching slightly.
“what about him?” his stingy tone rings your head.
“its not what you think—”
“jake.” both of your heads whips to the direction of the voice who called him.
lee heeseung stood by the door, watching you both with his heated gaze. his eyes shifts to yours and it sent direct chills. your head lowering as an automatic response.
“y/n, can you grab these workbooks and help me take it to the student council office?”
envious eyes darted at your direction when he ask you that. you can even hear someone commented that why should it be you. his dark gaze he gave you indicates that you have no other choice but to follow him.
you stood up, jake's eyes stayed and never left you. he watch how you walks towards the table, near his friend. jay and sunghoon seems uninterested as they bicker over something he doesn’t care at all.
“which one should i carry?” you asked heeseung.
he used his chin to point the fewer stacks of workbooks, he took the heavier stacks. he’s the first one to leave the room and you stalked behind him. students in the hallways greets heeseung with amusement through their eyes. they don’t even notice you at all. they’re too focused on him.
when you arrived the student council office, he stops beside the door then glance at you with serious eyes. your stomach churns and suddenly felt agitated.
“place those books here so you can open the door.” he instructed that you obeyed right away.
he didn’t even budge from his position when you place additional weight to what he’s carrying. totally unbothered.
you opened the door for him and hold it so it wouldn’t be on the way. he smoothly walks inside and you remained standing by door, looking at him placing it neatly at the table.
his eyes trailed towards you.
“get inside and lock the door.” he says and you saw him loosening his school tie.
you gulped and instantly felt on edge. he watch how you closed the door and he only looked away after hearing the sound of the lock clicking.
“sit down here, angel.”
angel.
you blushed so hard and its a little crazy how one word affects you so much. the somersault inside your stomach added weigh on your emotions. his heated gaze totally not helping.
“heeseung, about beomgyu...” you started.
his face remained blank. unlike jake, he didn’t show any foul mood or anything. but that slightly bothers you more. heeseung is always calm, very reserved. his mysterious demeanor pulls you more into him, digging a bigger space for your curiosity.
“it wasn’t what you guys think. i know what’s happening these days is somehow connected to him.”
he sighed heavily and tilts his head, “we already warned you and sent him a message.”
the way he talks sounded so calm. like nothing can ever make him nervous or anxious. he never stutters and speaks with so much confidence. he knows what he’s saying and that’s makes him more attractive in people’s eyes. what’s sexier than a man who knows what he wants in life?
“he just told me that he’s sorry—”
“if he’s really sorry then he should just stayed away.” he cuts you off.
you licked your lips and was about to talk again when he lets out a strained sigh.
“enough.”
“i j-just—”
“strip for me.” your mouth hangs open and stared at his eyes.
he looked serious as usual. his eyes silently conveying a message that you’ll get in trouble if you don’t obey him right away. without much of a choice, you start to take off sunghoon’s uniform.
he looked at it with no emotion and brows slightly twitched at the sight of a bruise by your arm. it doesn’t really hurt, but it was evident.
“does it hurt?” his tone full of concern.
you’re quite amused at him, blushing.
“no. don’t worry.”
“he lost control, didn’t he?” his hand reaches for it, caressing it gently like it will aid it. he looks at your eyes, waiting for your answer.
“just f-for a short time...”
he sighs and nods his head. this isn’t the time to talk or think about sunghoon’s bad temper. he tilt his chin, asking you to continue. when you’re left with your underwears he stood up then stared down at you.
“lay down on the table.”
your eyes grew big, hesitant to his request.
“won’t they come here? i thought the student body are busy today...?”
he glanced on your eyes once and it was enough to shut your mouth then do as he says. he offered his hand for assistance. his hand are warm, unlike sunghoon’s. he helped you step on a chair so you can climb on the table.
it feels so awkward sitting on it and having heeseung stand in between your thighs.
“lay down. i want to eat you.” he said so casually that made your core twitch in so much anticipation.
you wanted to curse yourself for how your body reacts to them. this isn’t how it suppose to be. you should protest and tell them off. or even get mad because you thought they’re already interested to a different girl. but... why do you find yourself laying back on the table while lee heeseung is gradually taking your panties off?
“breath, angel.” he smirks and you glanced away feeling guilty. he knew you’ve been holding your breath since you climb to this table.
the feeling of being this naked in front of heeseung is so overwhelming, both in good and bad ways.
“eyes on me.”
his command made you lift your body so you can see him dip his head and spit on your already wet pussy. you pursed your lips, doesn’t want to let out a moan.
he lifts his hand and slide one finger inside. you can feel it so long and warm.
“did he stretch you enough for me?” he whispers so close to your cunt, his hot breath fanning to your wet core.
“heeseung...”
“shh.” he glared at you then added another finger.
“god, this pussy.” he groans and leans in attaching his lips, lapping your cunt.
“heeseung..” you moaned and covers your lips, feeling shy by how you whimper. it sounded pathetic.
the feeling of his hot long tongue grazing and slightly getting inside your hole drives you crazy. your thighs automatically closes, caging his head in between.
he looks at you over his eyelashes, one hand pushed your thigh open. he leans away, “keep it open for me, angel.”
he smirks and placed a kiss on the insides of your thighs, “i know it feels so good, but i want your legs open.”
he grabbed both of your hands, making you hold your legs. you whimpered, feeling frustrated that his lips are not latched on your aching core. he glanced at you and smirks after seeing your desperation.
“patience, angel.”
he then dips his head again and started eating you. it felt so good, he was doing it expertly, making your head all fuzzy.
“oh my gosh,” you moaned and throw your head back after feeling a knot forming inside your stomach.
“i’m c-cumming,”
“really? give it to me.”
and with that you released, legs shaking and eyes tightly shut. heeseung made sure he gets all of your juices, nothing spills. you tried to open your eyes to look at him and the scene was so erotic. heeseung put his lips on your hole and suck it.
“uggh.” your eyes shuts and lips shakes in so much pleasure.
he kept sucking and gave your slit one last long lick. after that, he stood up and wiped off his chin. he looked so satisfied. he helped you get up, head still all clouded with the intense feeling he just gave you.
he then took off his clothes and went to sit down at the sofa. the same couch where jay took you yesterday. he rests his arms and watch you intensely.
“ride me.”
with wobbly legs, you walked towards him. once in reach, he slides his hand on your waist and helps you to get in position. your straddle above him, knees bore at the sofa. he hold you and watch how you reach for his hardened cock. you gave it a few strokes before placing its head near your hole.
“oohh,” you can’t help but to moan.
“slowly...” he whispers, face already on your side. his lips grazes your ears dangerously.
the lust took over you completely, taking control of your mind and actions. you are losing it, just wanted to have him deep inside you. lower lip trapped in between your teeth you slowly sat on heeseung’s long thick cock, moaning as it reaches all the right spots.
“u-uhhh,” your stretched moan made heeseung grin. satisfied at how you’re so eager to have him inside you.
“move, angel. fuck my cock into you.” he whispered full of lust like hypnotizing you.
you started riding him, at first with slow pace until you feel more desperate for him. moaning and gasping as you continued bouncing, not caring if someone from outside hear your shenanigans.
“feel so good.” you mumbled.
“oh yeah? ride faster.”
you obeyed, but your poor stamina and the overstimuation makes you feel so weak. you slump on his lap, cock buried deep inside. your head rested on his shoulder, panting.
“tired already?” he asks softly that you responded with a short nod.
he chuckles and placed a swift kiss on your cheeks. “all right. place your hand on the sofa and lift yourself a bit, angel. i will fuck you myself.”
pulling yourself together, you do as he said. eyes half-lidded drowned in your own desires. heeseung watches with a grin and kisses you once at your lips before starting to rutt his cock to your cunt, his hips moving so fast that you make you a moaning mess.
“o-oh my gosh...” and your forehead rests on his shoulder.
“my baby so weak that he needs me to fuck you myself, hmm?” he bit your earlobe once that made you whimper.
the slapping sounds of your skins so erotic. enough to make you feel the knot inside your stomach once again. your grip on the sofa tighten along with your hole, making the man under you groan in pleasure.
“cumming already?”
you nod while biting your lips so hard. he smirks and kisses you eagerly, feeling himself reaching his climax as well.
“cum with me, angel.”
with a few more hard thrusts from heeseung, you came all over his length and not long after, he follows. groaning so hard while kissing you with furrowed brows. he kept fucking his dick in you while supporting you so you won’t fall.
he pulls away to focus on sliding his cock in and out as you rest your head on his shoulder, nuzzling at crook of his neck.
“you’re such a good girl for me. for all of us.” you heard him whisper before placing a sweet kiss at your forehead.
“okay class we will have a group research project and i want you to participate properly in your group. i don’t want to hear some complains.” your teacher in your last period said.
the class reacts and gave their own comments. some already rants, the others being happy to do a group project and even say the people they wanted to work with.
you, on the other hand is resting your head on your table. too tired to even give a care about it. thankfully, the teacher after the lunch break didn’t attend and so you had the chance to take a nap after what you and heeseung did.
the thought itself made you blush so hard.
you teacher started announcing the groups. you tried hard to listen, waiting for your name to be called.
“park jongseong, jake sim, lee heeseung, park sunghoon and (surname) y/n).”
you slowly raised your head, blinking while staring in front. confused if you heard that right. did she just call your name? whose your group mates again?
“damn, she’s so lucky. why does it have to be her?” one of your girl classmates whispered to her friend while giving you a glaring look.
you noticed that the class are now moving seats to gather around by groups. still spacing out, you glanced around. waiting for someone to call you.
jake sim then raised his hand while jay pulls a vacant chair near his. the four pairs of eyes darts at you.
“y/n, come! we’re partners!” jake says excitedly.
your mouth fell open slightly while eyeing their direction. jake’s smile is wide, jay’s smirking along with sunghoon while heeseung eyes you seriously.
‘oh no...’ you thought to yourself.
since you don’t want to be scolded by your teacher, you stood up and slowly head to their direction.
“we’re going to have so much fun...” jake stated meaningfully before winking at you.
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#enhypen#enhypen smut#enhypen hard thoughts#enhypen hard hours#enhypen imagines#enhypen hyung line#enhypen lee heeseung#enhypen heeseung smut#enhypen park jongseong#enhypen jay smut#enhypen jake sim#enhypen jake smut#enhypen park sunghoon#enhypen sunghoon smut
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guess i missed you too much
✱ boyfriend!bc x fem!reader
— that's what being in love does to you.
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w.count → 1.2k genre → fluff warning → reader referred to as baby and my love, 2 (two) chatroom screenshots a.n → based on this request! ngl i was like '!!!' as soon as i read the request bc i can just imagine how it would go i'm—ㅠㅠㅠ also, i have an announcement here about requests, commissions, and fanart shop—i would really appreciate it if you'd check it and help a girl out♡ ⋆ if you're enjoying my stories, do send me a ko-fi ⋆ see masterlist
to put it simply, chan is dumbfounded.
he's pretty sure he had mentioned to both han and changbin that you're coming here, to seoul, in a exactly week and chan needs to have all the urgent project revisions to be done prior to your arrival. he's absolutely sure the two promised they will only be gone for a little while to get some coffee to wake them up, and chan is now certain that the two are definitely not only heading out to grab those goddamn coffee.
"if you two aren't back here in 5, just know this is your one and only warning," chan muttered through gritted teeth, trying his best not to sound too pissed before sending the voicenote in their '3racha only' groupchat.
it's not that chan didn't understand—he knows he's been pushing both changbin and han more than he usually does, and chan is very much aware that the duo are bound to be a bit more rebellious than usual once they reach their point of exhaustion, but he really is looking forward to the time he's about to spend with you, and he's not about to let anything come and ruin that.
it's been a while since you've last spent a considerable amount of time together with chan. sure, there are stolen dates here and there whenever a holiday would match up and you could take some time off to visit chan's version of paradise (which is unironically everywhere within the bounds of japan) together, but those visits always ends as quickly as it starts and left the two of you with a longer list of regrets by the time you had to let your hands slip away from chan' warmth.
so this time, when you finally were able put your responsibilities on rest for two whole weeks, it didn't take much of a convincing for either you or chan to finalize the dates when you would finally be able to be within each other's reach. chan even went the extra mile to immediately book your flight coming in, though you had to basically threaten him with no video calls for a week if he went through with his other plans to spoil you rotten.
well, you could only hope that chan won't pull any uno reverse card on you once this plan came to an end.
a bell sound from his phone quickly distracts chan from the lines of lyrics he's trying to edit—an action he came to regret when the notification in view were merely a singular line of emojis sent by changbin, consisting of the same teasing faces and a pink ribbon both changbin and han been sending chan for days now on end.
"oh, he's done," chan groaned, head tilted back in annoyance as he threw his poor beanie back at the sofa where changbin was supposed to be seated right now. to be frank, chan didn't understand what changbin has been implying with the string of emojis at all. presumably changbin and han had seen the way chan saved your kakao talk profile—hence the pink ribbon, but why now? exactly when chan's the most sensitive of the topic? the fact that chan couldn't contact you drives him even crazier—you had told him you haven't been feeling well and you'd text him again once you feel better, but that was like, what, an eternity ago? chan didn't want the risk of waking you up either especially with your trip coming up, so…
he's basically helpless.
another set of annoyed groan became chan's initial response when his phone came alive with a new notification. reluctantly grabbing the device, chan was mentally prepared for a text bubble sent by the youngest of the three, containing of the same string of emojis changbin had just sent—only for his heart to jump out of his chest when he saw the pink ribbon next to your name.
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before chan could type another reply, his attention were robbed by the knocks on his studio door—which is a little weird considering neither han or changbin would bother, and the fact that it's nearly midnight meant that almost no one that chan knows of should be looking for him around this time of night.
"manager hyung?" chan cautiously called out, instinctively grabbing his discarded beanie before he went to reach for the door. "did you leave something? or are you—"
the words on chan's tongue dissipates soon after the door swung open—but even with the way his eyes just doubled in size, chan still couldn't believe what he's currently seeing right in front of him now.
"hi, my channie," you finally spoke, a wide grin decorating your lightly flushed face from all the adrenaline you've been feeling; and only then, chan seems to wake up from his trance.
"wha—baby?" chan could hear how voice had skipped an octave higher, but he couldn't care less—did he fell asleep? is this a dream? chan had to pinch himself before he even pulled you in his arms, tightly wrapping the giggling mess that you are in his warmth. "you're actually here? wasn't your flight next week? did i got the dates wrong? how—"
"whoa whoa, calm down there, racer," you quickly stopped your boyfriend's wild train of questions, still with your smile plastered across the span of your face—your plan is a massive success.
"it was supposed to be next week," you confirmed, eyes still taking in chan's perplexed face while your brain etched the memory in its hall of fame, "but i miss my boyfriend too much to wait another week, so… i asked for bin and jisung's help to change my plane ticket!"
suddenly, everything that's been happening to chan in the past week just clicked—the time he caught changbin and han meddling with his laptop, the nervous chuckles, the way they become way to secretive with their phones, the phone calls, and those lines of goddamn emojis. it all finally makes sense.
"is that so?" chan shook his head despite the clear view of his dimpled smile, arms tightening around your waist, "so you three little naughty being has been cooking up plans behind my back, that's what you're saying?"
the sound of your sweet laugh fills chan with an overwhelming sense of warmth— you might spend the majority of your year apart from each other, but for chan, it's moment like this that makes all the dark nights of longing seem worth to be worth his patience.
after all, you're everthing chan ever wanted in his life.
"my my," clicking his tongue in faux disappointment, chan gently fixed the strands of hair falling over your eyes—ones ever so tender whenever you fixed your gaze on him, "what am i gonna do with you, hm? you naughty little baby?"
"not sure," you cheekily replied, lightly scrunching your nose the way chan usually does. you're just happy that you're finally in chan's arms again, to hell with any of the 'repercussions' chan might be building in his head for your little misdemeanor.
"but can you kiss me first?" you continued, trying your best to stay nonchalant despite the sudden spike of your heartbeat due to your own silly attempt at being witty and chan's surprised laugh, "i think i need my boyfriend's kiss so i could face my punishments later."
frankly, chan's head is still plagued with tons after tons of questions of your little successful stunt—he can't help it, you're someone he love and cares about after all,
but who is he to deny your sweet little plea?
©️ astralisortus, 2024. | likes and reblogs are highly appreciated♡
#stray kids fluff#skz fluff#bang chan fluff#stray kids imagines#skz imagines#bang chan imagines#stray kids scenarios#skz scenarios#bang chan scenarios#stray kids fanfic#skz fanfic#bang chan fanfic#stray kids au#skz au#bang chan au#stray kids x reader#skz x reader#bang chan x reader#stray kids x you#skz x you#bang chan x you#stray kids#skz#bang chan#isa's fics
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"Baby, what's wrong?" Toji leans forward on the bar counter to try and get a look at your face.
You hear Toji's voice, but you feel heavy, like you're being weighed down and you can't move. Your elbow is on the counter, allowing you to rest your chin in your palm. Your head is turned to the side and you're facing away from him. Your leg is bouncing like crazy against the metal bars of the stool you sit on and your heart is racing, your breathing coming out a little shaky as it exits through your nose.
"Hey." Toji's hand goes to your knee, moving along with every bounce of your leg. He doesn't attempt to still you, but he's hoping the warmth will manage to soothe you a little. "It's okay, ma. Listen to me." When you don't move, he stands from his seat and makes his way over to your other side to stand in front of you. "Focus on me." His hands come up to shield your eyes from all the light around you, blocking your peripheral vision so that your main view is him. He lays his fingers over your ears to somewhat muffle the sounds of the lively bar area.
You're overstimulated, overwhelmed by all the lights, and music, and everybody around you. You were so excited to spend some time out with Toji. You've been here with him before, and you remembered you had a really good time— definitely one of your favorite dates with him— so you expected this time to be just as fun. Everything was going well until you made it to the bar, where you're sitting, now, trying to calm down. Everywhere you turned, you made eye contact with someone, there was a group of people that was being way too loud, and the volume of the music being played was inconsistent— sometimes blaring, sometimes at a comfortable volume, and sometimes the music was almost inaudible. You felt like your head was spinning. With all of these things combined, you could hardly focus on Toji who was trying to get your attention, because the bartender was taking your drink orders. You asked him to repeat himself three times, and each time you couldn't process what he was saying. He ended up just getting you your usual.
The sensory overload only worsened as time went by. Whenever Toji said anything to you, you would just hum and nod your head, not really taking in his words. You ended up reaching rock bottom and couldn't respond to him at all. You weren't feeling well, and he eventually picked up on it, which led to this moment, where he's standing in front of you, helping you deescalate this awful feeling.
You blink slowly at Toji, holding his attentive gaze. He picks up your limp hand from where it rests on your thigh and brings it up to his face, positioning it so that you're cupping his jaw and your thumb is pressed against the scar on his lips.
Toji used to really hate his scar. Too many bad memories are linked to it. The blemish reminded him of how unwanted he was, growing up. When he met you, he was really insecure about it, to the point where his heart would sink to his stomach, when he caught you glancing at it for even the quickest second. He found out later on that his scar brings you comfort. Whenever you're stressed about something and Toji does a mental check in, the first thing you do is kiss his scar, before communicating what has you so stressed. Whenever you're sad, Toji pulls you onto his lap and lets you talk out all your feelings. As if by natural instinct, your thumb runs along the strike on his lips, before you wrap your arms around him and melt into his comforting embrace. Even at random times, you'll walk up to him and lay a barrage of kisses on his scar, before walking off to continue what you were doing, like it's a form of recharging, but also your motivation to get things done.
Though the method in which Toji got his scar was vehemently horrid, a lot of the negative memories are overridden by more positive ones of it bringing you tranquility. Before, there was absolutely nothing good about it. It used to piss him off, because it just served as a malignant reminder of his past, and it just sat there on his grim face—useless. Now that he knows that the sight and the feeling of it puts your mind at ease and that it grounds you and keeps you with him, his hatred towards the permanence of the tattered skin isn't as vile.
"Look, mama. You feel that?" He manually drags your thumb up and down his scar, in an attempt to bring you back. Your eyebrows furrow, then relax at the feeling of the familiar texture beneath the pad of your thumb. "Yeah, i'm here. It's okay, doll." When you manage to move your thumb on your own, he lets go of your hand and puts his hand back beside your face to shield you, again. He can feel people watching, but he really doesn't care what it looks like to them. It's none of their business, anyway.
"You wanna get out of here? We can go for a drive or a walk. Anything you want." He sees you press your lips together like you want to say something, but then you stop and just keep looking at him with that same look of exhaustion from your overwhelming amount of awareness. "Alright, let's get out of here, first." He pulls out his wallet and a few bills, leaving them beneath the glass of your unfinished drink, before helping you off the stool. "It's okay, doll. Don't even worry about it. Just hold onto me." You wrap an arm around him and he keeps his hand on your shoulder, squeezing occasionally to remind you that he's looking out for you, as he guides you to the exit.
You both decide to lean against the trunk of the car for a few minutes to get some fresh air. The parking lot is practically empty, save for three other cars scattered in different areas. You've managed to calm down a little more, but you still haven't said anything. It's a mixture of guilt and embarrassment for ending what was supposed to be a nice night out with your lover.
Your shame is visible. You can't even look up from your fidgeting hands. Toji takes one of them in both of his, aiming to start a conversation with you.
"Why are you stressing out on me, my sweet girl?" Your palm rests on top of Toji's, while the thumb of his free hand brushes your knuckles. He tilts his head to look at you as you stare at the ground for a few more seconds.
"I don't know what happened," you say, finally turning to look at him. "I was fine when we were on our way here, remember?" Toji nods, clearly remembering how excited you were when you saw the lit up, neon lettering. "Then, we got inside, and I felt weird—jittery, like when you have caffeine and don't put the energy to use. I felt like people were watching my every move, and my chest felt tight."
Toji hums, taking in the heaviness of your words and considers your feelings. "And why is it that you left me to figure out that you felt like you were dying, instead of telling me from the start?" His words aren't sharp, rather, doused with concern.
"That would have made it our shortest date night ever. We walk in, I say 'baby, I feel uncomfortable with how loud everything is', we walk out." Your brows raise, as if your explanation showcases the better option more clearly—what you chose to do, instead.
"That is one thousand times better than what you went through a few minutes ago." Toji can see your lips twitching, like you're aching to defend your reason for withholding your discomfort from him, but he won't have it. He's not going to waste time arguing over something he will always be right about. Your comfort, your health, your wellbeing— it's prioritized.
"I don't like seeing you that way." He gently pulls you so that you're standing right in front of him. His gorgeous, green eyes effortlessly hold you hostage and his hands settle on your lower back, further adding on to the feeling of being caught up in him. "You were frozen and you went silent— you were just out of it."
Your expression shows the guilt you've been stomaching since you walked out of the bar, and the feeling only intensifies at his evident concern for you.
"Fuck." He sighs, pulling you into a tight hug. "Don't look at me like that, ma. You know I care." He turns his head and takes in the ambrosial scent of your perfume, sourcing it from the side of your neck, where a few of his kisses land. "I don't want you to hide how you're feeling from me like that ever again. You understand?"
You nod against him. "Sorry."
"I'm not mad at you. I don't want you to apologize. Just tell me you understand," Toji clarifies.
"I understand," you confirm, quiet and disheartened, like you've just been scolded.
"Good. Now, tell me you love me." He loosens his hold and pulls you back, still maintaining a fairly close proximity with you. His hands take the ends of your coat and ride up until they reach the first button and hole of it. He merges them and goes up, feeling for the next ones, but when he reaches them, he pauses. Your attention is on what he's doing rather than his request.
"What?" You ask, looking at him.
"I'll wait," he responds, smiling softly at the bashfulness that shines through your expression.
"You're putting me on the spot," you say, giggling.
"You say it all the time. Why is it weird now?"
It's that smirk on his face and the knowing look in his eyes, that has your heart racing. It's the fact that he rescued you from something he couldn't feel—an internal hurricane. It's not hard to say the words, but you're damn nervous, this time.
"I love you, Toji," you, wholeheartedly, declare.
"I wasn't ready. Go again," he teases, because he lives for the way your eyes light up before you laugh.
"I love you, baby," you repeat, a gentle smile curled on your lips, remnants of your amusement towards his playfulness.
Toji sighs, mesmerized by the entirety of you. "You're so pretty, ma," he says, feeding the undying glow of your ethereal smile, in hopes that it doesn't dim again anytime soon. He continues buttoning up your coat, not breaking eye contact with you for even a second. When the last button is done, he shoves his hands into your pockets and pulls you in for a deep kiss. "I love you," he murmurs, against your lips, proceeding with more kisses.
Your hands come up to cup his cheeks, the warmth of his skin spreading through your palms with every ongoing kiss you share. Your hand repositions, your fingers resting beneath his jaw, allowing your thumb to slide down and get as close as you can to his scar, without interfering with the movement of his lips. It rests there until you finally separate from each other. You lean forward once more and press a lasting, final kiss to the strike.
"Feeling better?" Toji asks, a smug grin on his face.
"Much better," you respond. "Can we go somewhere else? Anywhere else. I don't think I can go back in there. It'll be awkward with the bartender having seen everything and just... fuck that. I can't go in there, again."
"Let's go for a drive," Toji says. He pulls his hands out of your now heated pockets, and takes his weight off the trunk, standing up straight and towering over you. "If you see anything interesting, we can stop and check it out."
"Let's get lost," you suggest, grinning mischievously.
Toji's eyebrows pinch in confusion. "Get lost? What does that mean?" He asks.
"It means, let's drive aimlessly and just... get lost," you repeat, enthusiastically.
He loves how excited you are, despite how insane you sound, which is why he doesn't have the heart to shut down your crazy idea.
"You know, it's almost impossible for me to get lost, 'cause of my jobs, doll. I'm sent everywhere, so anywhere we go, I know how to get us back home."
"I can't say the same, so it would be an adventure." You smile, internally giddy at the thought of having a guide through the dark unknown.
"It would be me kidnapping you." His hands go to your cheeks, forcing you to keep your eyes on him, so he can observe you to make sure you are in your right mind.
You laugh at the intensity of his gaze. "Not if I'm willingly going with you. Please? If you hate traveling with me, we'll never do it again. I promise."
Toji scoffs. "That's a little extreme, don't you think?"
You give him a charming smile, one you normally use to heavily influence his judgement.
"Fucking-" He groans, half frustrated, half smitten at the stunning sight before him. You don't even have the time to process the swiftness of him leaning down to press a hard kiss onto your lips. "God, you always do that. You always do that. You know what it does to me and you just... fuck." His breath stutters, and again, he's tasting the sweetness of your lips. His hands are still cupping your face, keeping you locked in with him. Toji doesn't stop until you're both breathing heavily through your noses and panting when he finally pulls away.
"Let's get lost," he says, in your words verbatim. Verdant orbs stare into your soul, in search of the smallest trace of uncertainty, but all he is able to find is wonder and adoration, staring right back at him. "Let's go away, doll."
#toji#fushiguro toji#jjk toji#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen toji#jujutsu toji#toji fushiguro#toji fushiguro x reader#toji x reader#toji x y/n#fushiguro toji x reader#toji x you#toji fluff#toji fushiguro x y/n#toji fushiguro x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen scenarios#jjk x y/n#jjk x you#jjk x reader#jjk fluff#jjk#jujutsu kaisen x you
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boys and their toys
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𝜗𝜚 THEME: angst (+ hints of fluff) 𝜗𝜚 PAIRING: idol!wonwoo x fem!reader, established relationship 𝜗𝜚 WORD COUNT: 1.9k
SYNOPSIS: fighting with you has to be one of wonwoo’s biggest nightmares, so when you reset his game - will that be enough for him to finally lose his temper?
natalia’s note: i know you can’t technically pause a game, so this is probably going to be big highly inaccurate, forgive me gamer people ://
“did you touch my computer?”
uh-oh. no “darling”, no “love”, not even a “baby”. that couldn’t mean anything good.
you turned off the stove, and quickly wiped your hands. it was honestly amazing how the lack of your usual pet name made you spiral because why did your heart start beating so fast all of a sudden, but… did you touch your boyfriend’s computer today? you never had the reason to, it’s not like you shared his passion of gaming, so you never really touched it or did anything with it. even if you wanted to check something you always did it on your own computer or your phone.
“yes, wonwoo?” you asked slightly out of breath, peeking into your bedroom.
your boyfriend sat at his gaming chair with headphones covering one of his ears, his brows furrowed and lips pursed out, as he was typing something furiously on his new purple keyboard. “i paused the game before i left for practice today,” he said, and by his cold tone you figured you wouldn’t like what you were about to hear, “and now it’s gone.”
he finally turned his head to look at you, and to be honest, you’d rather he’d turn back to the computer screen. wonwoo was never the one to pick fights with you, he always insisted on cooling down and spending some time apart to gather your thoughts so no one would end up hurt, and even during the biggest fights you’ve had in your relationship, you’ve never seen him so outwardly furious.
suddenly self-conscious, you wrapped your arms around yourself. “i don’t know what happened. i didn’t touch anything.” because you didn’t, you were certain of that. “you know i never use it anyway.” sure, you cleaned today, you had your day off, and with wonwoo at work you didn’t have anything else to do, so you figured it’d be the perfect time to do some cleaning and dusting. but there’s no way you reset his game, right?
“my keyboard is clean, so you had to do something with it,” wonwoo said, his brows furrowing even more. you didn’t like the way his eyes seemed to darken, and you certainly didn’t like the tone of his voice. he wasn’t yelling at you, but then again he was always so soft spoken with you that you weren’t used to hearing him being so cold.
“i was cleaning, but i didn’t press anything,” you said quickly. “i swear.”
“you must’ve, because clearly the game had been reset,” he scoffed. “how many times have i told you not to touch my computer when a game is on? is it seriously so hard to understand?”
you couldn't believe what you were actually hearing. wonwoo, your wonwoo was calling you dumb? “it was an accident,” you straightened your spine, and walked further into the room. “i wanted to clean the keyboard for you since you have been complaining about it being dirty for days now. maybe if you weren’t so lazy you would've done that yourself,” you loved him with all your heart but you wouldn’t let him disrespect you over something as stupid as a video game. “i wanted to do something nice for you, and you know i’d never do anything to your game on purpose.”
for a second you thought he’d say something back, but instead he only shook his head, and covered his other ear with the headphone.
you couldn’t actually believe him.
like an idiot, you stood in the middle of the room in disbelief. you didn’t know why he was so pissed about it, sure - you knew how much time he spent to get to the level he was on, but it was still just a game. besides, his behaviour was so unlike him, and it made everything so much worse.
“have fun playing your games, wonwoo,” you said, though you weren’t sure if he heard you. not that you cared. you quickly gathered your things, and left his apartment. there was no way you'd stay there, and act as if nothing had happened.
after a couple of days of radio silence you weren’t sure what to do next.
it’s not like you would call him or text him or anything - it was his job to man up and apologise, but a part of you, the part that always cared for him no matter what, really wanted to check up on him, which you weren’t sure how you felt about. he was the one to make you feel like the smallest person on earth, he was the one to make you feel like you did something wrong, so why did you feel responsible for checking up on how he was doing?
you didn’t want to make any excuses for wonwoo, that didn’t feel right, but… you really wanted to talk this out. you had never gotten in a fight where you spent so much time apart - even when you fought when he was on tour you still managed to make up rather quickly.
and soon you started noticing the small things you were starting to miss. his glasses laying around the apartment, and him running around trying to find them before work. his arms wrapped around your waist as you’d be cooking dinner. his featherlight kisses he’d place on your forehead after coming home late thinking you were already asleep.
for someone who insisted that fighting with you had to be one of his biggest nightmares, he was being really stubborn.
you sighed and waddled over to your kitchen to make something to eat. after your fight you really lost your appetite, but you knew you shouldn’t treat yourself so harshly after what happened. to be honest you generally lost the motivation to do anything.
just when you managed to put the pan on the stove you heard a loud knock. the sun had already set, and you felt more than ready to call it an early night after dinner, nor did you expect anyone to come over. “yes?” you opened the door a bit hesitant. a small part of you was hoping it’d be the person you were really starting to miss at this point, but to your disappointment it was a delivery guy, the last person you’d expect to pop up at your front door.
“i didn’t order anything,” you said, frowning. your first thought was that it simply had to be a mistake, but then you noticed that the bag the guy was holding was from one of your favourite chinese places. well, whoever ordered it had a great taste.
“is this your address?” he asked and showed you his phone with yes - your exact address.
he did not just order you takeout.
“who was this ordered by?” you asked immediately.
“um, let me check,” he muttered, “jeon wonwoo.”
you thanked the guy, and took the bag from him.
and it didn’t stop there.
for the next couple of days you were greeted with a delivery guy at your door at the exact time you usually ate your dinner. you always thanked them and took the takeout because free food is free food, and if this was wonwoo’s way of being stubborn then so be it - you wouldn’t let the food go to waste just to be petty.
but you wouldn’t lie - anytime you were greeted by the amazing smell of your favourite food your heart beat a bit faster. wonwoo has always always been a man of silent acts of service, and it never failed to make you feel loved, even now when you were fighting.
the day after the city had been struck by a storm. it was bad, the rain was pouring for the whole day, and you could hear the thunder constantly rumbling in the distance. thankfully you didn’t have to go out that day, but it made you miss wonwoo even more. you always used to cuddle on days like these if he was fortunate enough to have some time off.
when you got the weverse notification you picked up your phone, and clicked on the app immediately, a reflex you picked up early in your relationship, and read the message your boyfriend posted.
make sure to bring an umbrella with you today. and if you’re going to drive, be careful
you didn’t have to think twice to know he wrote this thinking about you. anytime it rained, even if it was a drizzle, he turned into a worried mum, and nagged you about being careful and bringing an umbrella with you, as if he didn’t put it in your bag before leaving for the schedules for you.
after a week and a half after you stormed out of wonwoo’s apartment you were starting to settle into your little routine of coming back to an empty home, getting the takeout, and eating it alone in your bedroom, where you could feel your boyfriend’s presence more than anywhere else in the house. if you were feeling extra sappy that day you wore one of his hoodies to make yourself feel even more miserable.
but something changed that week.
you just closed the door with another takeout when you got the message you were waiting for all of those lonely nights.
can we talk? please
maybe you should’ve been more stubborn, and ignored his message. maybe you were wrong for typing out a “yes”, but you didn’t care. it didn’t mean you’d forgive him, you were still very much angry at him, but you needed to see him. needed to see if he was okay.
i’ll come by after work tomorrow eat well
you smiled at your phone with teary eyes as you noticed one more thing you were missing. his stupid “thumbs up” emoji he put in half of his texts.
you weren’t sure what to expect the next evening. you didn’t know if you’d start yelling at him or if you’d start bawling your eyes out after seeing him after what felt like an eternity. what you were sure of was that you were nervous as hell, which was kind of ironic because you didn’t even feel that way before your first date.
this time when you heard the knock on your door you knew it wouldn’t be the delivery guy.
sort of.
“i brought food,” wonwoo said, as if that was what mattered to you.
he looked bad. the dark purple circles under his eyes. the slumped wide shoulders. the cheekbones more prominent than ever. tearing your soul apart would hurt less than seeing him like this.
“will you…,” he took a shaky inhale, looking at you from behind his glasses. you had to resist the urge to grab his face and adjust them, as they were sitting crookedly on his nose as usual. “will you let me apologise?”
“that’s all i’ve been waiting for you dumbass,” you sighed, and grabbed his hand to pull him inside your apartment.
even though you didn't know how this night would end, whether you would be able to forgive him today, or if you would need more time for everything to go back to normal, you were glad to have wonwoo by your side. you were convinced that the fight happened for a reason, whatever it may have been, but despite everything, you were happy that you could go through it with him.
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