#and said ''sorry I was just gonna go in and get it''

[enhani-ki]

fuckboy!ni-ki x reader ᡣ𐭩｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

warnings: smut, nsfw, cursing, etc.

read part two here

✶ fuckboy!ni-ki likes to lie and waste time.

a game player, smooth talker, and a liar when it suited him.

ni-ki knew exactly what to say to get what he wanted. he'd tell a girl she was the only one, that she was special, that he couldn't stop thinking about her, only to turn around and send the same message to someone else.

when he got what he wanted? he gets bored.

it was always the same: a few weeks, maybe a month if they were lucky, then he'd just start pulling away. no more sweet words, no more playful texts, it's dry responses and distance until they finally took the hint.

girls will cry, get angry, some even tried to plot revenge... but ni-ki? he never felt guilty.

✶ fuckboy!ni-ki doesn't believe in love.

he won't date and won't do relationships. he wasn't interested doing those late-night calls or good-morning texts, and the thought of commitment made him want to laugh.

he just likes a little flirting, a little fun, love songs, fucking then moving on before things got too serious.

they liked the chase, thinking they could be the one to change him, and the idea of being the exception.

but there are no exceptions. he'd rather catch a body than catch feelings for somebody he barely knows.

ni-ki was always clear about what he wanted, even if they refused to believe him.

✶ fuckboy!ni-ki was impatient.

he's leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, and tight jaw. his fuck buddy is late and he hates waiting. it's not his style to sit around for anyone.

he sighed, running a hand through his hair. then, he spotted a familiar silhouette approaching.

finally.

and without hesitation, he reached out, grabbed your wrist, and pulled you into the shadows.

"you took your sweet time." he muttered, his lips brushing against your ear, whispering. "i should make you pay for making me wait, don't you think?" then ni-ki started talking dirty.

and your body in his grasp stiffened.

ni-ki smirked. he loves it when someone gets shy because of him but something was off.

there's no giggle or eager hands slipping on his body.

only silence.

ni-ki pulled back, his eyes locked on your wide, terrified eyes.

you're a face he had never seen before.

"who the fuck are you?!" he blurted out.

"i- i'm sorry!" you stammered, breathing heavily in shock.

ni-ki's mouth opened to say something but before he could, you ran away, you ran so fast that your belongings spilled onto the floor in your rush to escape.

ni-ki cursed under his breath, running a hand down his face.

fuck.

not only he's not gonna have sex but he also accidentally just harassed a complete stranger.

✶ fuckboy!ni-ki got mad, completely ghosting and blocked his fuck buddy's number.

✶ fuckboy!ni-ki wasn't the type to dwell on things. if he ever made a mistake, he moved on. simple.

what happened with you? that bothered him.

maybe it was the way your eyes looked at him, it was pure fear, like he was some kind of monster... or maybe it was because he had never been the kind of guy to force himself onto someone.

he's cocky, sure. shameless, absolutely.

but he never needed to resort to shit like that and now, he just left a random girl traumatized.

great.

ni-ki took your abandoned things from his bag, staring at them in irritation. he could've just tossed this somewhere and let you deal with it, but it's the least he could do, right?

he looked for you everywhere and when he finally spotted you walking down the hall, he didn't hesitate.

"hey."

your body stiffened instantly when you saw him, you gulped and turned to leave.

ni-ki rolled his eyes and reached out, catching your wrist before you could escape. "relax," he sighed. "i'm just here to give you these…"

you hesitated but quickly grabbed your things and muttered, "thanks."

he let go but he's also expecting you to run again though he's not letting you off easily.

his fingers wrapped around your wrist again, "i'm not done..." he said. "why are you in such a hurry?"

"i gotta go…"

"oh, really?" ni-ki scoffed but released his grip. "fine. look, i'm sorry about earlier. i thought you were someone else."

"your girlfriend?"

ni-ki chuckled, scratching the back of his head. "no, i don't do girlfriends." he teased but it wasn't meant to joke or seduce. "you forgive me?"

you smiled slightly before nodding but then you tilted your head, curious. "...but why would you say something like that to someone who isn't your girlfriend?"

he smirked and leaned in again, so close you could smell his cologne.

"mind your own business, won't you?" he said and walked away.

✶ fuckboy!ni-ki found you at his playground.

parties were all the same. loud music, flashing lights, people pressed up against each other like they forgot what personal space was.

ni-ki was used to it, it's his playground.

he's sitting with his friends, a smirk on his face while some girl clung to his arm, twirling her hair and giggling at everything he said, even though he wasn't even trying to be funny.

"so, ni-ki..." she purred, leaning in close, "when are we getting out of here?"

ni-ki exhaled through his nose, he's not in the mood yet and ready to give a half-assed answer until his eyes flickered to the entrance where you walked in.

huh.

you walked in, looking... insanely good wearing a dress that hugged all the right places. it made ni-ki's fuck boy brain short-circuit for a second.

the girl beside him was still talking, but he wasn't listening. his smirk twitched and his interest became completely derailed.

"wait here..." ni-ki muttered, removing the girl's arms off of him without another word.

she sputtered in protest but ni-ki was already gone, slipping through the crowd, with eyes locked on you.

he "accidentally" bumped into you, almost knocking you off balance. his hands instinctively gripped your waist to steady you.

"wow… you're-"

you covered yourself quickly, your arms crossing over your chest, and sent him a glare before he could even think about finishing that sentence

"what do you want?" you asked, unimpressed.

he blinked, momentarily thrown off.

"nothing." he recovered quickly, slipping his hands back into his pockets.

you sighed. "have you seen my friend, f/n?"

ni-ki shook his head. "i have no idea who that is," he admitted, then quickly added, "i'll help you look."

his hand landed on your shoulder but you instantly shrugged it. ni-ki scoffed at your unfriendly action, "seriously?" he asked, rolling his eyes but followed anyway, trailing beside you like he's trying to find his friend too.

he was enjoying himself, honestly.

his eyes kept drifting to you. the way your hips swayed slightly as you walked, the way your hair swung when you turned your head... it was so distracting and ni-ki found himself grinning.

he wasn't even gonna try to flirt anymore, he was just thrilled to be by your side.

you stopped in a less crowded part of the house, scanning the room, then you were pulling at your dress subtly, adjusting the hem like you're clearly uncomfortable.

ni-ki clicked his tongue "w- why are you wearing that if you're uncomfortable?"

you turned to him sharply, eyes narrowing. "why do you care?!"

"why are you so mad at me?"

"'cause i don't know what you're trying to do."

"i'm not trying do do anything to you!"

you glared at him again, adjusting your dress.

"tch." ni-ki removed his jacket and threw it at your face.

"what the hell-"

ni-ki rolled his eyes, already regretting being nice. "wear that, idiot."

you hesitated.

he sighed and turned away, "do whatever you want."

you slipped the jacket over your shoulders then ni-ki peeked at you from the corner of his eyes where he saw you practically drowning in his jacket. you looked so tiny in it, he had to bite the inside of his cheek to stop himself from smiling.

you finally spotted your friend near the drinks table, "f/n!" you called out, relieved.

your friend turned with a smile then her eyes immediately widened when she saw who was standing beside you.

"oh. my. God." she gasped, barely even acknowledging you because she's looking at ni-ki.

ni-ki smirked at her reaction, clearly used to it. "hi. what's up?"

you friend actually looked starstruck for a second before shaking herself out of it.

"why are you with him?" she whisper-yelled at you, leaning in like you just brought home a stray cat but the dangerous kind.

"he just helped me find you." you replied, and without another word, you grabbed her arm and practically dragged her toward the exit.

"bye, ni-ki!" your friend waved at him.

ni-ki chuckled, grinning while watching the two of you rush off.

as soon as you and your friend stepped outside, she immediately started her interrogation, eyes gleaming.

"okay," she breathed, grabbing your shoulders. "do you know how many girls would kill to be in your position?!"

you groaned. "it's not what you think!"

she gasped, dramatically covering her mouth. "wait… did you do it?"

you blinked. "what do you mean by it?"

she wiggled her eyebrows and giggled, playfully slapping your arm. "you know what I mean~"

you eyes widened in disgust. "i would never do it with anyone!"

she laughed as you pushed her lightly, still giggling like a schoolgirl.

"okay, okay, i believe you..." she teased. "but still, damn. ni-ki even gave you his jacket?"

she said, snatching the sleeve of the jacket and sniffed it.

you grabbed it back.

she gasped dramatically, pressing a hand to her chest. "it smells expensive… sexy, actually."

you gave her a disgusted look again and tightened the jacket around you, trying to ignore the fact that, yeah, it did smell good.

"don't get so weird about this." you warned.

she only laughed, linking her arm through yours. "now tell me more about you and ni-ki."

"there is no me and ni-ki!"

✶ fuckboy!ni-ki suddenly wants to prove that he wasn't actually the asshole you thought he was but ended messing it up.

he told himself it was over. he gave back your stuff, apologized (which, honestly, he never did for anyone), even gave you his jacket, and that should've been the end of it.

he tried not to be pushy 'cause he knew better now, but he still found ways to be around you. if he saw you at school, he'd just give a casual nod. if you were in the cafeteria, he'd sit nearby, pretending it was a coincidence. and if you caught him looking, you'd glare and he would quickly look away.

he was used to people chasing him, used to girls who always wants something from him, not someone who wanted nothing to do with him. and when you made it clear, he said "you really think the worst of me, huh?"

you crossed your arms. "can you blame me?"

ni-ki huffed a laugh. "i don't even do shit to you."

but then, you might just be playing hard to get, right?

he smirked, grabbing your phone and held it high.

"ni-ki, i swear- give it back!"

you jumped, reaching for it, but he was way taller. he tilted his head, watching you struggle, and then...

fuck it.

because he's ni-ki, he's reckless, stupid and didn't think things through... he kissed you.

it was quick, barely even a brush of lips.

he pulled back, expecting a reaction, but not the one he got.

your face twisted in disbelief before you hit him.

you smacked his chest repeatedly, pushing him, "what is wrong with you?! that was my first kiss, stupid!"

ni-ki's eyes widened. "wait- what? seriously?"

you fought back your tears, shoving him one last time before storming off. "don't talk to me ever again!"

✶ fuckboy!ni-ki is doing something completely out of character.

he didn't plan to kiss you. it just happened like some dumb, impulsive thought he acted on before his brain could catch up.

he wanted to reach out but what the hell was he even supposed to say?

"hey, my bad for stealing your first kiss lol?"

"i didn't think it'd be that big of a deal."

"wait, you really never kissed anyone before?"

shit, no. that was all dumb as hell.

for the next few days, ni-ki is not being himself.

he forgot his usual girls, he hadn't even been with anyone ever since he met you.

"dude, what's up with you?" one of his friends asked.

ni-ki just shrugged, flipping his phone in his hands. "nothing."

you were avoiding him like he was some virus. you look the other way when he walked past or really refusing to even glance in his direction.

so, fine. he swallowed his pride and showed up at your house.

you opened the door, immediately frowning when you saw him. "what do you want?"

ni-ki exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck.

"i'm sorry, alright?" he said quickly. "i was being an idiot, i didn't think, and..."

"you're apologizing?"

ni-ki groaned, shoving his hands in his pockets. "yeah..."

you crossed your arms, unimpressed. "took you long enough."

he sighed, stepping closer. "i didn't know it was your first kiss, alright?"

you rolled your eyes, "whatever."

then ni-ki hugged you.

you gasped, trying to make him let go. "what- what are you doing?!"

ni-ki just chuckled, resting his chin on your shoulder. "saying sorry?"

"by hugging me?!"

"would you rather i kiss you again?"

"ABSOLUTELY NOT!"

he laughed again, pulling back slightly to look at your flustered expression.

you scowled. "you're such a pervert."

his smirk returned, teasing. "you liked being hugged though."

you smacked his chest hard. "GO HOME, NI-KI."

he grinned, backing away "but we're good now, right?"

you didn't answer, just slammed the door in his face.

ni-ki chuckled to himself, breathing in relief as he walked away.

✶ fuckboy!ni-ki is trying his best to please you... and hold himself back from being a fuck boy.

ni-ki has a serious problem. these days, he found himself doing things that were completely out of character.

like waiting outside your classroom when he swore he was just going to pass by, remembering your usual order at the café near school and handing it to you in front of everyone like it was no big deal, and making sure you got home safe after study sessions.

he wasn't even trying to get anything out of it because for once in his life, he actually wanted to do things the right way. he wanted to get a girlfr- girl friend. a friend that's a girl. that's all.

totally normal. nothing weird.

but it's so frustrating because you weren't even making it easy for him.

you still roll your eyes at him when he tried to be nice. you still gave him unimpressed looks when he offered to carry your things. and the other day, when he casually said you looked cute, you hit him with a deadpan, "what do you want?"

like, damn. he was actually trying here.

then… you'll also do things that completely messed him up.

your cheeks puff out whenever you concentrate, making him desperately want to bite them.

or how we would notice your tits slightly jiggle and move whenever you're running or simply writing. suddenly, he would have to leave the room for fresh air.

when you got mad at him, all fiery and stubborn, he had the worst urge to just shut you up, not in a way that was appropriate for a friend.

ni-ki groaned, running a hand down his face.

his first thought?

"God, i wanna touch."

his second thought?

"i need help."

you left something at school. suddenly, he showed up at your door, handing your things back along with a bottle of your favorite drink.

you looked at him confused, ni-ki rolled his eyes, pushing the bag into your hands.

"you… bought this for me?"

"don't be weird!" he grumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. "just take it."

you stared at him for a long moment before stepping aside. "you wanna come in?"

ni-ki shook his head, he knew himself. he knew that the second he got too comfortable, his usual instincts would kick in... he would start flirting, the way he always found a way to get what he wanted.

instead of smirking and stepping inside like he usually would, he just shoved his hands in his pockets, exhaling.

"nah," he said. "i'll just see you tomorrow, okay?"

a small smile formed at your lips. "thanks, ni-ki."

he turned away quickly, waving a hand over his shoulder while his heart raced so fast. "welcome."

✶ fuckboy!ni-ki who can't figure out if you're just a damsel in distress or actually bossing him around

ni-ki likes to think he's a pretty capable guy. he's used to girls needing him for things... carrying their bags, opening their drinks, giving them rides home. he didn't mind. it boosted his ego.

but every time you asked for his help, he couldn't tell if you were actually helpless or if you're just treating him like some personal assistant.

you handed him your backpack without a word while texting on your phone.

ni-ki blinked. "uh… am i supposed to carry this?"

"yeah." you replied without even looking at him.

"…please?"

you gave him a look. "i could say please, but you're already holding it."

then later you stared at a vending machine like it had personally offended you.

"what, it didn't give you your snack?"

"no..." you huffed, crossing your arms. "it won't take my bill."

ni-ki sighed, pulling out his own money and sliding in a new bill. the machine beeped, and he pressed your selection.

the the snack dropped, you grabbed it, turned on your heel, and walked away.

the way you pouted when you struggled with something, how your brows furrowed in concentration, the tiny pleased smile you gave when things worked out in your favor... it pleased him too.

so when you showed up next to him one day, shaking your phone with an exaggerated sigh, ni-ki already knew what was coming.

"my phone is dead," you said.

he smiled "finally."

you glared, "give me your charger."

ni-ki scoffed in disbelief. "you don't even pretend to be polite anymore!"

you pouted. "please?"

his eye twitched. you're so annoying. cute but mostly annoying.

ni-ki pulled out his charger and handed it to you. "i swear, don't lose it."

"i never lose things." you said, already plugging it in.

"liar." he shook his head. "you lost your AirPods case last week."

you laughed and waved him off. "that was one time."

ni-ki smiled, he felt that stupid warmth creep up his neck again when he heard your laugh.

✶ fuckboy!ni-ki asked you to work out with him.

you regret this.

you had never worked out before but when ni-ki said, "come on, i'll go easy on you." you refused to back down.

big mistake.

now, here you are, struggling to breathe properly while ni-ki, just finished another set of weights, stood there looking like some Greek god.

sweat clung to his skin, his black shirt sticking slightly to his toned torso. his hair was pushed back from his forehead and sharp jawline got even more defined.

you gulped.

then he caught you staring. his lips curled into a grin. "like what you see?"

you quickly looked away. "shut up."

he only laughed.

later, back in your room, you are dying.

your muscles ached in places you didn't even know existed. you lay on your bed, groaning while ni-ki sat next to you, arms crossed.

"you're overreacting." he said.

"you tricked me," you accused. "you said you'd go easy."

"i did!" he defended, snickering.

you groaned again, moving slightly only to wince at the soreness in your legs.

ni-ki smiled. "want a massage?"

you looked at him. "you give massages?"

he smirked. "i'm really good with my hands."

you squinted and he laughed. ni-ki began to straddle your back, hands pressing into your tense shoulders.

the moment he started kneading your muscles, your body melted.

"oh… that's so good…" you whispered, voice airy.

ni-ki chuckled. "i am good, huh?"

"ah, ye- yeah, it feels so good." you mumbled, already slipping into a relaxed haze.

ni-ki's hands stilled for a second.

your voice sounded… weirdly suggestive.

he bit back a laugh. he knew you were just tired, but hearing you say that in such a soft, breathy tone? hmm.

he kept massaging, feeling the tension slowly leave your body. it wasn't long before your breathing evened out.

"…did you just fall asleep?" he muttered.

silence.

ni-ki shook his head, you looked so peaceful, face slightly turned to the side, lips parted slightly.

his eyes trailed to your exposed neck, ni-ki's heart pounded while reaching out, gently brushing your hair aside.

and before he could stop himself, he leaned in, pressing soft, featherlight kisses along the curve of your nape up to your neck.

your body reacted on instinct, tilting slightly, giving him more access.

a soft, sleepy moan escaped your lips.

ni-ki's eyes widened, heart slamming against his ribs.

"…a- are you awake?" he asked.

silence.

panic surged through him. he quickly grabbed the blanket and draped it over you, standing up so fast he nearly tripped.

ni-ki ran home and the second his front door swung open, he stumbled inside, slamming it shut behind him. his fingers went straight to the waistband of his sweatpants, tugging at it while his mind still clouded with you.

the soft moan you let out, the way your body naturally tilted into his touch, the warmth of your skin beneath his lips.

his jaw clenched as he glanced down at cock, his sweatpants doing a poor job at hiding the evidence of just how badly he was losing control.

ni-ki groaned, balling his fists, fighting the instinct to just take care of it.

he grabbed his phone, scrolling through his contacts.

the phone barely rang before a familiar, flirty voice answered.

"hey, ni-"

"how fast can you get here?"

the girl on the other end giggled. "mhm, about 30, 40 minutes-"

click. that's too late.

ni-ki exhaled sharply, tossing his phone onto his bed. his hand ran through his hair, feeling the frustration throughout his body. he pulled his sweatpants back up, shaking off the temptation.

and even though he had just worked out, he grabbed a set of weights and dropped to the floor, blasting music at full volume.

push-ups. sit-ups. anything to burn the tension off.

✶ fuckboy!ni-ki looked like shit the next day.

you burst out laughing the moment you saw him.

he looked rough. dark circles under his eyes, hair a mess, slouched in his chair like he barely made it out of bed.

"what happened to you?" you grinned, poking his arm.

ni-ki groaned, brushing you off. "it's your fault."

"wha- my fault? what did i do?"

he turned his head away, eyes shutting like he couldn't even look at you right now. "just… drop it."

you leaned in, pushing him playfully. "come on, tell meee." you pouted. "fine, then at least let me make it up to you! what can I do?"

ni-ki scoffed, tilting his head back against the chair. "there's nothing you can do."

when class ended and you followed him towards the gym storage room.

"ni-ki!" you called, slipping inside right behind him.

he turned around just as the door slammed shut. the click of the lock echoed through the small space.

"…are you kidding me?" ni-ki muttered.

you tried the handle. locked.

ni-ki groaned, he sat and started rubbing his face. "i really don't have the energy for this right now."

you stepped in front of him, with hands on your hips. "you seriously won't tell me what's wrong?"

and instead of answering, ni-ki suddenly reached out, gripping your waist and pulling you close.

you froze as he rested his head against your stomach, arms wrapped around you.

"just shut up, will you?" he murmured, voice muffled against your shirt.

you brought your hand to his hair, your fingers brushing the strands. you began to comb through them slowly, your touch gentle and rhythmic.

his body relaxed against you, the tension in his grip softening. ni-ki hummed.

you began to smile while playing with his hair, twirling a few strands between your fingers before smoothing them out.

it's sweet... but your legs were starting to ache.

"okay... maybe just a little longer." you thought, shifting your weight slightly to ease the pressure on your feet.

ni-ki didn't move. if anything, his grip on your hips tightened, like a sleepy child clutching a favorite pillow.

your legs began to tremble faintly, you hoped ni-ki would notice.

but nothing, he was like a cat curled up in the perfect sunbeam.

you sighed quietly, glancing down at him. your hands still in his hair as you debated your options. "maybe if i lean a little, he'll..."

ni-ki let out a low hum, his grip loosening just slightly as he shifted his head. for a split second, you thought your prayer had been answered, until he wrapped his arms fully around your waist, pulling you down to his lap.

"ni-ki!" you hissed, barely catching yourself with your hands as you stumble forward.

his eyes cracked open, a sleepy smirk tugging at his lips. "why are you so tense?"

"because you're treating me like a body pillow!"

"you're comfy."

you groaned, glaring at the top of his head. ni-ki added "you should've leave me alone." the smirk of his returned as his arms tightened around you once more.

"you know..." he began, "let's just skip class, you wanna sleep with me?"

your eyes widened, your brain short-circuiting at his words. "wha-what do you mean sleep with you?" you stuttered, leaning back instinctively.

ni-ki flicked your forehead lightly, his smirk growing. "not like that, you idiot." he said, shaking his head in disbelief. "i meant just sleeping. me, you, sleeping here. eyes closed. that's it."

you laughed awkwardly. "right..."

✶ fuckboy!ni-ki realized that he doesn't want to be your friend.

ni-ki got annoyed the second you started talking about jungwon. he had just introduced him but he noticed the way your eyes stared at his friend.

ni-ki subtly stepped in front of your view, blocking jungwon from your sight.

"hey! move!" you hissed, trying to peer around him.

and instead of budging, ni-ki covered your eyes with his hands.

"what the?!" you immediately grabbed at his wrists, struggling.

he kept his hands firmly in place, waiting until his jungwon hyung was completely out of sight.

and when he finally let go, you blinked, looking around. "where is he?"

ni-ki smirked. "i killed him."

you smacked his arm.

later, he was sitting on his bed while you lounged across from him, "he was really nice," you said, kicking your feet. "and kinda cute too, like a cat don't you think?"

"who do you like better, me or him?"

you blinked, confused. "what kind of question is that?"

"just answer."

"i like you," you said casually. "as my friend."

ni-ki scoffed. maybe he did want to be your friend before but that isn't the case anymore.

"i'm not your friend."

"yes, you are."

ni-ki grabbed your face with both hands, tilting your head up before slamming his lips onto yours, aggressively like he was trying to erase every thought you had of jungwon. "friends don't do this."

rough and desperate, his fingers pressed into your cheeks as he devoured your mouth, refusing to let you breathe while angling your head exactly how he wanted..

you gripped his shoulders, a muffled gasp escaping your lips as he deepened the kiss.

but ni-ki wasn't just kissing you, he was already claiming you.

he groaned against your lips, hands sliding to the back of your neck. holding you in place like he didn't want you slipping away and the second your lips parted slightly, he will deepen the kiss even more, biting at your bottom lip like he wanted to ruin you.

and when ni-ki finally pulled away, his lips were already swollen.

"you were saying?" ni-ki muttered, still holding your face.

you stared at him, breathless, lips tingling.

"…huh?"

he smirked, wiping his thumb over your lower lip before leaning in again.

"that's what i thought."

✶ fuckboy!ni-ki can't keep his hands off you.

you used to slap his hands away.

his arm over your shoulder? gone.

sneaking his hands around your waist? not happening.

grabbing your wrist to pull you closer? absolutely not.

but after the kiss, you started letting him and ni-ki noticed... of course, he did.

the first time you didn't push him away when he rested an arm around your shoulders, he almost did a double take.

you also didn't immediately escape when he pulled you onto his lap and when he linked his fingers with yours? he was expecting you to smack his hands, but you didn't.

"you're getting too comfortable," you muttered, feeling the warmth of his palm against yours.

ni-ki only smirked, giving your hand a squeeze.

"you're spoiling me, you know." he murmured against your ear, his breath sending a shiver down your spine. "if you keep this up, i'll start thinking you actually like me."

you scoffed, pushing his face half-heartedly.

ni-ki chuckled, leaning in like he was about to kiss you again. you froze, expecting the warmth of his lips- but he only brushed his nose against yours.

he pulled back, satisfied at the way you reacted. "see?"

your cheeks burned, frustration bubbling in your chest. you freed yourself from his grip and walked away, annoyed.

ni-ki watched you go with amusement. "where are you going?"

"far away from you."

✶ fuckboy!ni-ki ready to be yours.

"go put on a nice dress." ni-ki said over the phone.

you raised a brow. "why?"

he grinned. "because we're going to a restaurant."

you narrowed your eyes. "we are?"

"yeah." replied. "i made a reservation."

you got ready anyway. and when you stepped out in your dress, ni-ki scanned you up and down, "pretty." he murmured, before grabbing your hand and leading you outside.

before you both enter the restaurant, he suddenly intertwined his fingers with yours, "this is a date, okay?" he said, watching your reaction.

you blinked, caught off guard. "a what?"

ni-ki just grinned and dragged you inside.

your eyes widened as you looked around the table. all your favorite foods were there, plated beautifully under the dim, warm lights.

you turned to him, speechless.

ni-ki simply pulled out a chair for you, nodding at the seat.

the dinner was nice. way more than nice. he talked, he listened, and laughed with you.

"is this real? are you actually asking me out?"

"yes," ni-ki said, nodding. "i'm serious."

your chest tightened. you wanted to believe him but a part of you was scared.

what if he change his mind? what if you let yourself fall, only for him to break your heart once you bit into it?

ni-ki noticed your hesitation. he hated that you had to doubt him but he can't also blame why, though he wasn't just playing around.

he reached for your hand, bringing it to his lips. "just a bit more of your trust, okay?" he whispered against your skin.

you stared at him for a moment before finally leaning in to hug him.

he held you close, his lips curving against your shoulder. "you were mine the first time i kissed you."

you pulled back and laughed, playfully slapping his arm as you remembered how he stole your first kiss.

at his house, ni-ki captured your lips in a slow, passionate kiss. his mouth moved against yours, savoring every moment. he then pressed soft kisses along your jaw and down the column of your neck.

he found that sensitive spot that made you moan, he latched on and sucked harder, relishing the sound of your pleasure.

ni-ki started guiding you towards his bedroom, never breaking the kiss. once inside, he gently laid you down the bed, his body still pressed against yours.

he looked up at you with intense desire in his eyes, he asked breathlessly, "can i?" his eyes flicked down to your heaving chest.

you nodded, granting him permission. ni-ki didn't hesitate, slipping his hands under your shirt to fondle and tease your sensitive nipples through the thin fabric of your bra.

you arched into his touch, panting softly. he swallowed down your needy moans as he devoured your lips again, his tongue delving deep to clash against yours.

"friends won't do this, right?" ni-ki gasped between heated kisses. he tugged your shirt up and over your head, tossing it aside. his mouth moved, licking and sucking at your bare breasts.

your fingers tangled in his hair, holding him against you as he lavished all attention on your tits.

then ni-ki trailed kisses down to your stomach. hooking his fingers in your panties, he groaned at feeling soaked folds. "fuck, you're so wet for me already," he murmured, tracing his finger along your slit.

he buried his face between your thighs and began eating you out with your panties on. the fabric added delicious friction when his mouth sucked the sensitive bud, lapping at your clit.

you cried out, ni-ki removed your panties. the first swipe of his tongue directly on your pussy made you both moan. you taste even better than he imagined.

ni-ki growled. diving in for more like a starving man. his talented mouth had you writhing and gasping within moments.

he couldn't help but picture how tightly your virgin pussy would squeeze his cock when he finally got to slide inside you. he just know he wouldn't last long once he felt your walls gripping him.

his tongue darted in and out of your slick folds, making you to tug on his hair harshly.

ni-ki's fingers dug into the soft flesh of your thighs as he licked and sucked your clit with sloppy, desperate motions. sounds of your moans and gasps only served to fuel his own growing arousal with every passing second.

but he promised himself he could wait, for now, he was content to focus solely on pleasuring you, determined to make you feel as good as possible.

he sealed his lips around your clit and suckled hard, pressing two fingers inside as listened to the squelching sounds of your tight cunt.

you cried out, your back arching off the bed as he pumped them in and out. "ni-ki, i...i think I'm going to...ahhh!" your words dissolved into a wordless moan as he curled his fingers just right.

soon, your thighs clamped around his head as you came, your pussy clenching down on his fingers in rhythm.

ni-ki crawled up your trembling body to capture your lips in a deep kiss. "you taste so good," he murmured against your mouth. "i can't wait to be inside you." he said as he positioned himself at your entrance, rubbing the thick head of his cock at your wet folds "i'll be gentle, baby."

"tell me if it hurts too much." he added, slowly pushing forward when he felt your walls relaxed slightly.

you let out whimpers and sharp gasps, the sting of pain clouded your eyes with tears. ni-ki paused, giving you a moment to adjust to the new feeling of being filled inside completely.

the sensation of your pussy squeezing him was unlike anything else. he wanted to fuck the shit out of you, claim you so thoroughly that you'd never forget your first time but he loves you so he has to be patient and gentle with your innocent body.

your whimpers and moans filled the room, ni-ki's heart swelled seeing you like this, breathless, desperate... he can't believe that your body is his for the taking.

your cunt began to welcome him inch by inch.

"fuck, you feel amazing." he groaned, fighting the urge to hammer into you wildly.

starting with shallow thrusts, he gradually increased his pace, still mindful of your pain. and as ni-ki doing it deeper, he leaned down to capture your lips in a passionate kiss. "you're taking my cock so well..." he praised. "so fucking sexy."

your eyes fluttered shut and you tilted your head back in bliss, lost to the new pleasure and pressure building inside you. ni-ki felt your walls fluttering around him erratically. "ni-ki, i think- i'm- again..."

he knew you were close.

he increased his pace, deep strokes hitting that special spot inside you with every thrust. his hands gripped your hips enough to bruise as he fucked his dick into you, grunting with the effort of holding himself back from his own release.

and with a strangled cry, you came undone beneath him. ni-ki followed soon after with a moan of your name, pulling out before spilling his cum all over your thighs.

after cleaning up, ni-ki crawled back into bed and pulled you to his chest, kissing your face and neck but you moved and positioned yourself in his hips, where his hardening cock already poking on your sensitive, beaten entrance. "ready again?" he chuckled, wrapping his arms on your waist, his face nuzzling on your neck.

you giggled and sank down on him with a gasp. ni-ki groaned at the slick heat enveloping him again, making love with more confidence this time around.

rounds later, you're all sweaty and tired. ni-ki wondered dazedly if he'd turned his sweet, innocent girl into a sex addict. "you're so good, ni-ki..." you said, kissing him. to ni-ki, you looked like a sex god, your lips kiss-swollen, chest full of hickeys, your hair is a mess...

completely wrecked by him.

he wrapped his arms around your limp form and rolled to the side, careful not to dislodge from where he was still buried inside you.

and you're there thinking about worshipping ni-ki's body for the rest of your life.

"i'm going to fuck you all over again in the shower." he declared with a wicked grin. you answered with a moan that tells him it sounds like the perfect plan.

never knew sex could hit this different when it was out of love.

a/n: this is too long lol! enjoy <3 read PART TWO HERE

read Nishimura Riki as your boyfriend

read Nishimura Riki as your classmate

read part-timers!ni-ki x reader

read part-timers!ni-ki x reader part 2

read snitch - reader x ni-ki

read touché - ni-ki x reader

read touché - ni-ki x reader part 2

read exes - ni-ki x reader

[tonycries]

Kitty hybrid!satosugu who take turns mounting you and breeding you when they enter their heat cycles(which are synced perfectly btw they said it themselves) and cover you in bite marks from your jaw down to your ankles literally NO inch of you is without indents of teeth.

Kitty hybrid!satosugu who are in love with your body, it's just too warm and inviting yk?

Satoru just loves snuggling up to your boobs they're just so soft and squishy and he always dips his hands down your shirt whenever you three cuddle to grope at them because he's just so fascinated by them. He also started giving you extra creampies when you accidentally told him that boobs leak milk after giving birth just so you get knocked up and he can taste your milk(sorry im nasty asf)

And suguru just loves your clit like??? Give her a break???? He won't lmaoo. Yk how real cats get a squeaky toy and squish it over and over to hear the noise? It's literally him with your clit because whenever he touches it or licks it you just make just cute noises, and it tastes good too! He'll literally go at it until you're crying and pleading for him to stop, but still not satisfied because this little kitty hybrid is a total glutton when it comes to your cum like??? Hello???

-🎀(gonna continue this with the rest of jjk boys but idk what hybrids they'd be)

HELLOOOOO? Nonnie bae come over and pay for what you've done because it's all over the screen now 😔😔

Kitty hybrids Gojo n' Geto would NOOOOOT be giving you a single second of rest RIP that puthy (pun intended). I was thinking of writing a Gojo x Reader x Geto sometime soon soooo 👀👀

Also oooo I feel like Toji would either be a big cat like a tiger or a wolf heheh. And somehow I just can NOT stop thinking about puppyboy! Choso and Ino 😈😈

[guzmawife]

🍓: he had no job when i met him but now he works at a high school as an errand boy / security (his children attend said school). hes the guy they call in when a real teacher needs to use the bathroom so he can watch the class. or to retrieve some papers from the printer. go get me that thing boy.

🍒: probably just chilling at home with snacks and movies and fast food. or chillen at the beach. 🏝️

🍎: tapu cocoa.. we all know dis.. hot sweet drinks…

🍉: hes not religious other than believing that a higher power exists. hi arceus..

🍑: totally more comfortable giving gifts. hes used to taking care of others so it’s pretty natural for him to be giving. he has no issue receiving but its not rlly a priority since he didnt come from much so hes used to not rlly asking for much.

🍊: i make him peel it. he knows my paws and claws have to stay clean… he’s comfortable with getting dirty and i am not!

🥭: no i domt think so. his dad was a prick and said shit like. Youre not a woman so you dont need those. fuckkkk that guy.

🍍: probably him being mentally manipulated and abused! 😿 killing all the people that taught him he wasn’t anything and made him feel like he had to act out in order to prove himself to others. hhhggffg. he deserves to be loved.

🍌: he likes to be in the dark. das it. no specific reason why.

🍋: he would probably change his hothead nature bc he doesn’t like how quickly he gets upset and makes bad decisions. and his hairline.

🍋‍🟩: he tells people if you squish bugs more will keep showing up. as a joke. heehe. sorry im gonna squish them still im a pussy.. thats probably why they keep showing up though. i have an actual curse. maybe he’s right man…

🍈: he thinks fate is bogus and if you want something to happen you have to make it happen.

🍏: hes bisexual and questioning demisexuality, he learned of his bisexuality through being in denial of liking the same sex and being like. This is ruining my tough guy personality. This can’t be. but then it kept happening and he was like man fuck this whatever. what the hell sure. he became normal. he’s still figuring out the demisexuality, to put it simply he just doesnt want to engage in sexual acts with anyone unless he has a genuine connection to them. it also just feels better for him. sorry for airing out your business Anywayyyyyy. Anyway.

🍐: he’s a nail biter its kinda gross sorry man. his nails are short always so i make him do short nail tasks since my nails are usually pretty long. i think he bounces his legs sometimes too. he knows i hate that shit thou so he tries not to. usually i just leave so he can shake all he wants. then hes like what wait no….

🥝: he would totally let me do his makeup. we’re both pretty lazy when it comes to makeup so we don’t so anything complex. i just do mascara and corner highlights and SOMETIMES lipstick and that’s it. #autistic i cant stand having too much shit ok my face. this isn’t even about me brah. he does simple makeup too since he’s just not super experienced. he just tries things sometimes but he’s not a professional. he just wants to look cool.

🫒: he’s a big hugger he squeezes too tight but it feels good though…. (´ ω `♡) he likes to be hugged too! yey!

🫐: definitely more of an artist he actually keeps a sketchbook. right brained yeah.

🍇: if we never met i think he might still be getting himself into some trouble tbh. he’s pretty stubborn.

🥥: he draws he plays games. he works out. he cooks. i think he would want to get into gardening but his location doesn’t allow for it since it’s always fucking raining.

🍅: i think he would get me testosterone or something that i can’t possibly get safely right now. or like. my own living space. or some rare pokemon card / plush that costs more than an organ online. sigh. or probably 1 billion dollars. muhehw.

🌶️: he drinks ginger ale. ginger ale the ultra cure.

🫚: hes not picky. he cant eat beans bc hes allergic to them. but i dont think hes picky since he has to make sure his kids eat first. so he eats whatevers left from them. leftover amalgamation.

🥕: he didnt like them but he ate them anyway bc his parents were mean :(

🧅: he cries when hes angry like super fuming. and when hes thinking about his past. hes just mad at himself for what happened and how he handled things. Basically. getting manipulated and taken advantage of makes him upset and he cries. he doesnt cry at movies unless he relates to them.

🌽: does bugs counts as animal. He likes dogs. and isopods. and other sea creatures.

🥦: pet peeves are getting called ‘boy’ or ‘kid’. i used to call him boy all the time just by habit and he would Not like that. “I’m not a boy. I’m a man. stop callin me dat…” okaaayyy whatevar. he doesnt have an issue with me calling him dude tho. despite being his lover. which is a little funny. um what else. people not knocking before entering. leaving empty cartons and stuff in the fridge or cabinet. ppl telling him he looks tired. or people calling him old. not that he has an issue with old people (😽) but its like. How did you even reach that conclusion.

🥒: hes afraid of ultra beasts a little.. specifically uh whats its name. nihilego. that bird that i hate. middle finger emoji. hes like. a little more hesitant with UBs than regular mons. he’s also got a fear of getting lost.

🥬: beige flags auumm i hate his ugly fucking sunglasses. and when he says. ya boy (pinches the space between my brows). peeing with the door open. he does that thing where u can feel him looking at you waiting to turn around during the movie so he can kiss you. theres probably more. im very good at complaining.

🫛: he loves to think of new pet names for me to see how i will react. he’d be like. “goodnight honeypie” and id be like “oh…. yeah… 😽” he also likes them too but most of the time i just call him musham or guzma bc i like saying his name. then he’s like. Why dont you call me anything else…. (sad puppy eyes). he likes when i call him mumu or honey. i calll him princess sometimes but its rare. princess is like his top pet name for me. meeooww. sometimes i call him Boss. thats For when. Im teasing Him. That one Makes his Ears turn Red. For special Occasions. meow.

🫑: he’s had a number of near death experiences so he’s pretty afraid of death. he has no lofty life goals. he just wants his family safe. wants to travel too and have good genuine relationships.

🥑: not super niche but cosmetics and nail art. he also likes cooking and insects and drawing. just things he grew to like from being around his family. or trying to distract himself from his own issues.

🍠: he likes to go to the beach and sit listening to the waves (same). he also likes to paint his or others nails when he’s bored. “gimme yer hands i wanna try sumn”. yknow.

🍆: favorite scent is meeeeeee… i kid i kid. probably like. Ugh. baked goods. Sugar smell. Rain smell 👎🏾 i hate rain smell but he likes it. i don’t think he has any specific least favorite smells other than the usual like peepee and caca yknow.

🧄: allergic to beans

🥔: he makes japanese curry a lot. easy to make in large portions for his 75million children. i like rice so he usually makes rice dishes for me. i don’t cook very often but when i do its cultural foods since he doesn’t know those recipes. he likes those. yom. he wants to learn baking but just hasn’t had the chance or motivation.

🍄‍🟫: i think he would wanna be a mewtwo or something. super strong and cool nonchalant. if we’re talking irl mytho creatures, cerberus. that guy cool as shit. #swagger.

this took me three whole days to answer. enjoyable experience rlly made me think. sorry for any typos i used swipe typing for parts of this 😿.

@sylvie-wants-your-dogs hi : )

the ULTIMATE f/o infodumping ask game!

(this is gonna be a long one...)

🍓 - disregarding the career your f/o currently has, what other career would they consider going into, if given the chance?

🍒 - if your f/o and you spend a day doing anything, anything at all, what would they do and why?

🍎 - what's your f/o's favorite drink? any drink, alcoholic or non alcoholic!

🍉 - is your f/o religious? what's their opinion on religion or spirituality?

🍑 - is your f/o more comfortable giving or receiving gifts? why? do they have any preferences on gifts they like receiving?

🍊 - if you asked your f/o to peel an orange for you, what would they do?

🥭 - did your f/o have stuffed animals growing up? do they still have stuffed animals? do they have a favorite?

🍍 - if you could change any one thing about your f/os backstory/character, what would you change? why?

🍌 - does your f/o have a vendetta against The Big Light™? what kind of lighting do they prefer?

🍋 - if your f/o could change one thing about themselves, what would they change and why?

🍋‍🟩 - is your f/o superstitious? is there any habits they follow or quirks they have to follow said superstitions? like not opening umbrellas indoors to avoid back luck?

🍈 - does your f/o believe in fate? do they thing everything is preplanned out by the universe or a higher power, or do they think that the idea of fate is bogus? why?

🍏 - if you have any queer headcanons for your f/o, how did they realize they were queer?

🍐 - does your f/o have any nervous ticks or idle quirks they do? like mindlessly tapping on a desk or fiddling with their hair when they're stressed?

🥝 - would your f/o ever let you do their make-up? what does their make-up process look like? is it simple? complex?

🫒 - what kind of hugger is your f/o? do they give good hugs? do they like hugs? do they like receiving hugs?

🫐 - is your f/o more of a writer or an artist? would you say your f/o is more left or right brained?

🍇 - if you and your f/o never met, what do you think your f/o would be doing right now?

🥥 - what hobbies does your f/o have? is there any hobby they would like to get into that they haven't tried out yet? what is it?

🍅 - if your f/o could buy you any gift in the world, whether it exists or not, what would they buy you? or, if they could make you something, what would it be?

🌶️ - does your f/o have any remedies they follow when they get sick? like taking a shot of whiskey to get rid of a fever?

🫚 - is your f/o a picky eater? is there any foods they will not under any circumstances, gun to their head, eat?

🥕 - when your f/o was little, did they dislike vegetables? do they still dislike them?

🧅 - what makes your f/o cry? do they get emotional at sad movies or books? do they only get emotional under very rare circumstances?

🌽 - does your f/o have a favorite animal? what is it? are they scared of any animals?

🥦 - does your f/o have any pet peeves? things that just really really get on their nerves? what are they and why?

🥒 - what's your f/o afraid of? do they have any phobias? anything minor they're scared of?

🥬 - what are some beige flags your f/o has? so, not bad, but not nessecarily good either. just. "oh. you do This."

🫛 - how does your f/o feel about pet names or nicknames? do they like them? hate them? what are their favorites and least favorites to be called and to use?

🫑 - how does your f/o feel about death? are they afraid of it? is there anything specific they'd like to do before they die?

🥑 - is there any niche topics your f/o is interested in? what are they and why do they like them?

🍠 - what are a few of your f/os favorite pastimes or things that they do when they're bored?

🍆 - does your f/o have a favorite scent? why is it their favorite? do they have a least favorite scent?

🧄 - does your f/o have any allergies? food or otherwise?

🥔 - does your f/o have any food dishes they make often? is there any foods you make for your f/o that they enjoy?

🍄‍🟫 - if your f/o could be any mythological species, what would they be? if your f/o is already a mythological species, would they ever want to be human?

I recommend practicing reblog karma ! people love infodumping about their f/os :) I also recommend sending more than one emoji at a time,,, there are Many here...!!!

[sibylsleaves]

good morning sibyl … prompt: sleepy buddie 😴🤩

omg yay....this is the one i kinda started last night because i was excited!! also im sorry hima...i broke the rules right off the bat because this is slightly over 1k 😔😔 plz forgive me....

---

It’s late when they make it back. Christopher’s been passed out since they crossed the state line. Eddie’s absolutely exhausted, a little delirious from eleven and a half hours in the car but so, so happy as the little house on Bedford Drive comes into view. He gets Chris awake enough to shuffle inside and get into bed, and then drags their bags inside, leaving them in the front hall. Everything else can wait.

Tomorrow they’re going to head straight to Buck’s in the morning to surprise him—Eddie promised Chris it would be the first thing they did when they got back to LA. He’s already checked with Bobby to make sure he’s not on shift.

He’d been too scared to tell Buck that they were coming home. Terrified that Chris would change his mind, or that his parents would try to stop them, or that something would happen to snatch it all away from him again. It hadn’t feel real, hadn’t felt permanent, until he walked up the front steps.

Now, easing down the familiar creaky hallway and pushing open the bedroom door, Eddie lets out the breath he’s been holding since the day Chris left.

The sight that greets him on the other side of the door steals that breath right back. 

There’s someone lying in his bed. Eddie knows it’s Buck before he can even understand how he knows it’s Buck. As if he could recognize him from just the outline of his sleeping body in the dark.

In the wake of his initial surprise, Eddie is filled with something he can only call peace. He’s home. They’re home. And somehow, it makes sense that Buck should be here, asleep in Eddie’s bed like he belongs there.

Moving quietly, Eddie sheds his pants and exchanges his road-worn henley for a fresh t-shirt. Then he moves to the other side of the bed and climbs in beside Buck. 

“‘’ddie?” comes the sleep-roughened rumble of Buck’s voice. 

“Hey,” Eddie says softly in the dark. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“S’okay. ’m glad. You’re here,” he says, or maybe it’s I’m glad you’re here.

“I’m glad you’re here, too,” Eddie says, settling onto the pillow next to him. Under the blankets, Buck moves, rolling toward him, tucking all that bulk against Eddie. Eddie wraps an arm around him, letting himself, in this quiet, unguarded moment, live in the spaces of Buck’s body, in the warm certainty that no matter how far he goes, Buck will always be his home.

He breathes in, letting all the tension of the last few weeks dissipate, and presses his cheek into the hollow of Buck’s throat. Sleep is creeping up on him, waiting to pull him under.

Buck lets out a little hum, almost a moan, and turns his face toward Eddie’s. 

It’s as natural as anything to meet him there, lips nudging together in a kiss that’s sweet and soft until it isn’t. Until Buck grabs the back of Eddie’s head, angling his face to kiss him deeper, until Eddie opens his mouth to greedily drink every sigh and whimper from Buck’s mouth, until he presses Buck down against the sleep-warm sheets and kisses him and kisses him and kisses him.

But sleep is still lapping at his edges, and soon the near frantic need slows into something languid and undemanding.

Buck sighs his name, sounding half a step from sleep himself, and they settle again, tangled together.

“I’m gonna tell you everything in the morning,” Eddie promises. Means it, too, when he says everything—everything that went down in El Paso with his parents, with Chris, everything he’s been keeping back from Buck because he couldn’t bear to tell him with eight hundred miles still between them. “But tonight I just—I’m home. We’re home. And I love you. That’s the most important part.”

“I love you, too,” Buck says, as easy as anything. Like it’s something he’s said a hundred times before. And maybe—maybe it really is that easy.

Buck hums again and between one breath and the next Eddie feels him drop back off. 

He follows soon after.

When Eddie wakes, he’s alone. It takes him a full minute to even remember where he is—not in Texas anymore thank god— and an additional few seconds to remember that Buck was in his bed last night.

That’s also about when he hears the sound of the kitchen door closing just a little too hard.

He’s out of bed so quickly he’s almost dizzy, stumbling across the hall and into the kitchen where he finds Buck.

Buck who is not, as Eddie might have thought, shuffling around in his pajamas trying to get the coffee going for them. Instead he’s standing fully dressed, shoes on, with a duffle bag slung over his shoulder.

Eddie leans against the doorway. “Were you seriously gonna try to sneak out?”

Buck jumps at the sound of his voice and then immediately goes rigid, his head angled down like a dog waiting to be scolded for bad behavior. “Eddie.”

“Well?” Eddie asks.

“I—” Buck chokes out, his shoulders stiffening, his hand clenched around the strap of his duffle bag. “I’m sorry.”

“For sneaking out?”

Buck nods, face red and bright. “For—all of it. For being in your house when you were—when you were gone. For sleeping in your bed. For—for last night.”

“You’re sorry for last night?” Eddie echoes. “Buck, you kissed me.”

Buck flinches. “I didn’t—I thought I was dreaming.”

“What?”

“When you woke me up last night I—I thought I was still dreaming,” Buck says. “That’s why I kissed you. And then I woke up this morning and you were really there and that meant I’d really, actually kissed you, and I—”

“Freaked out and decided to sneak out of the house before I woke up?” Eddie suggests.

Buck nods miserably. 

“And at any point in this freak out did it occur to you that the fact that you really, actually kissed me means that I really, actually kissed you back?”

“I—oh.”

“Yeah, oh,” Eddie repeats, unable to stop the smile from spreading over his face.

“You wanted it,” Buck says slowly. “You…”

“Want it,” Eddie corrects, crossing the space between them and taking Buck’s face in his heads. “Really, actually.”

Buck drops the duffel bag on the ground. Eddie kisses him, as sweet and slow as he’d kissed him last night. Buck makes a noise that sounds like wanting and kisses him back, holding onto Eddie’s arms, thumbs digging into the soft parts of his wrists. 

“This is real, Buck,” Eddie murmurs between lush, indulgent kisses. “I’m really here. I’m really home. And I really love you.”

“I love you, too,” Buck says, and it’s so different from the way he said it last night. In the light of morning, the words are tremulous and precious, but still easy, so easy.

Eddie smiles, and before he can kiss him again, Buck pulls back. 

“And…you don’t think it’s weird?” he asks anxiously. “That I was, uh—living here?”

“Well, that explains the duffle bag,” Eddie says mildly. His hand finds Buck’s shoulder, his gaze finding Buck’s. “Buck, everything has felt wrong since the second Christopher walked out that door with my parents. Last night was the first time in my life that everything, finally, felt right.”

“Oh,” Buck says, eyes pink and wet. “That’s—me, too. That’s why I thought it had to be a dream.”

Eddie kisses him again and this time—this time the kiss turns from soft to molten. Eddie had been too exhausted last night to even think about anything more but now—now he’s definitely thinking about it. And judging by the noises Buck’s making and the way his hips hitch against Eddie’s, he’s thinking about it, too.

“You know,” Eddie says breezily, walking them backward out of the kitchen and back toward the bedroom. “We had a pretty long drive yesterday. Chris’ll probably be asleep for the next few hours. Maybe in the meantime, we can see if I can make some of your other dreams come true.”

ficlet february prompts

[baronessvonglitter]

Guessing Game

stepdad!Javier Pena x fem!Reader

Word count: 2.8K

Summary: Your stepfather is a DEA agent. When he finds drugs in your room you have to find a way to keep yourself out of trouble.

WARNINGS: 18+ Only! Explicit. Step-cest (if that's an ick for you please do not read - you are responsible for the content you consume 🖤). Age gap (reader is early twenties, Javi is mid-to-late forties). Reader wears makeup and a dress and has hair long enough to get in her face. Cocaine use. Sexual proposition/exploitation. Dub con. (Reader is high during the act.) Oral (m receiving). Drug use during oral. Come swallowing. Fingering. *Spanish terms at the bottom. If I've missed anything please lmk!

Author's note: Big thanks to those of you who asked about this when it was just a baby wip -- now it's fully grown and I so appreciate the support! 💜

JAVIER PENA MASTERLIST | FULL MASTERLIST

"Please tell me you're coming out tonight."

You pause a moment before answering your friend Gabi, switching your phone to your other ear as you check your reflection in the mirror. You apply dark burgundy lipstick to your bottom lip: Guessing Game by MAC, and top it with a swipe of clear gloss.

"I'll be there. You can bet your tits on that," you tell her with a smirk before you end the call.

Sure, you're technically still in trouble for staying out all night the past weekend. That's the thing that sucks about  commuting to college instead of moving out-- having to stay under your mom's roof and adhere to her rules.

Not just her rules, oh no. Your new stepfather is a hard-ass too, and a DEA agent on top of that. Javier Peña's over half your age and a stickler for rules. He's down your throat any chance he gets when you talk back to your mom or do anything that he finds disrespectful. 

It's stressful having to walk such a thin line. You deserve to go out tonight and show off the slinky, short black dress you're secretly borrowing from your mom's closet. It's not like she wears stuff like this anymore. She won't miss it for one night.

Almost ready to go, you do a last minute checklist. The only thing missing from your purse is your baggie. 

Shit! Where is it? You check your usual hiding place but find nothing. Your stomach swirls with unease.

"Looking for this?"

You turn to the sound of the deep voice coming from your doorway. There stands Javier, big bad DEA stepdad, holding your baggie of coke between thumb and forefinger.

"That's not mine," you automatically deny. 

"Bullshit," he mutters, stepping into the room. "I found it in here earlier. You want to tell me what you're doing with cocaine, chiquita?"

"Like I said, it's not mine," you insist. Deny, deny, deny. 

"How stupid do you think I am, huh? Just be damn glad I found it and not your mother. She'd kick your ass out on the streets for having this." The offending white powder in its baggie looks tiny in his large hand.

"Did I interrupt your big plans tonight?" he asks smoothly, shutting your bedroom door behind him. "Were you gonna go out and party, do a few lines, let some pendejo fuck you up the ass?"

"Javi!" You instinctively cover yourself as his eyes linger over your figure in that short, tight dress.

He comes around the bed, towering over you as you sit on the edge. Still in his suit and tie and his hair still in its neat, swept-to-the-side style, you imagine he must have just gotten off work. His dark eyes challenge you to do one more thing to piss him off. Despite the severe disdain you hold for one another, in the back of your mind you've always wanted to fuck him. Him being alone with you in your room, that dangerous, pissed-off look in his eyes only serves to make you wet. 

"You should know better," he says. "I can't have a fucking druggie for a stepdaughter."

"I'm sorry," you mumble. "But you shouldn't be going through my shit anyway."

"That's not a fucking apology, cariño," he gripes. "When you say 'sorry, but' that means you're not truly fucking sorry."

"You're giving me a fucking semantics lesson now?"

"Don't fucking talk back to me," he growls. "I'm not your mom, I'll beat your ass."

"You wouldn't dare!"

"Keep it down, she's asleep in the next room."

It's late and by now your mom's taken her sleeping pill. You'd counted on her staying practically unconscious as you snuck out. Until Javi came along. You don't know what his plot is but the fact that he's here in your room with the door closed and it's half past midnight gives you a feeling that he wants something he shouldn't be asking for.

"Just.. give it back to me. I'll flush it, I promise."

A dark chuckle leaves his throat and sends a chill up your spine. He holds the baggie out and flicks it with his finger. "Who's your plug, baby? Give me that much. Possession with intent to distribute is a worse crime than just possession. You could get off with just a slap on the wrist if you just give me a name."

"I'm not telling you shit.."

"That stubborn, eh, princesita?" He smirks at even you have to admit he's a little handsome when he looks at you like that. But you still fucking hate him. You make a low sound in your throat, akin to a growl.

“You got something in your throat, chica?”

“No.. but I’d like to..”

His gaze darkens as he looks down at you, that barely-there dress leaving so little to the imagination. He recognizes it from his wife's closet, the very same dress she wore when they went on their first date. And now it fits you like a second skin. "Careful, chica. You might be an adult under the law, but you have no idea what the real fucking world is like."

"What are you gonna do, turn me in?" you challenge him.

"Maybe we can come to a compromise," he says, his gaze on your wet, glossy, darkened lips. "I'll keep quiet about the drugs if you do something for me."

"Like what?" You lean back on the bed, acting bored with the conversation though you're secretly glad he's about to let you off the hook.

"You're a smart girl. Use your imagination."

You separate your gaze from his, traveling down to the prominent bulge in his trousers.

"You're disgusting, you know that? Exploiting your own stepdaughter like that.."

He shrugs. "I have no problem bringing you in for this. It's a shame, though. You're a bright kid, you have your whole future ahead of you. You gonna let a little cocaina put an end to all that?"

"Fuck you," you mutter, sitting up. What does it matter anyway? It's just a dick. Not like you haven't sucked a few in your time. "Fine. I fucking blow you and you don't tell anyone about the coke, okay?"

A little smile curls his lips upward. "Deal, princesita."

He puts the baggie on the nightstand where you can't reach it and turns to you, hands on his hips. You realize he's waiting for you to start. 

Smart guy, having you make the first move so it's not on him later. "Nobody knows about this, either," you demand, your fingers hovering just over his belt buckle.

His breath hitches before answering, excitement hidden in his voice. "Just between us."

You feel your heartbeat in your throat as you undo his belt and pants, letting them fall to the floor. He's wearing white briefs, though you know him to typically go commando when he's not working.

"That's it, bebita linda," he coos as you free him from his underwear. His thick erection curves upward, slapping his belly as it swells and rises. Your mouth waters just feasting your eyes upon it.

"Ain't got all night," he grumbles.

"So fucking impatient," you grumble back, wrapping your hand around his hefty cock. It's bigger than any you've ever had, already weeping from the tip. Without hesitation you lick up the salty precum, delighting in the way his breath catches in his throat.

"It's not gonna suck itself," he grunts, putting his hand on the back of your head and pushing you towards him. "C'mon, baby, wanna see that pretty lipstick ruined and slopped all over my cock. The deal doesn't count if you're just gonna give it kitten licks."

Grabbing the base in one hand you slide the tip between your lips. Already it feels like too much, but you're not going to let him think he's got the best of you. 

"Open wide, baby, I know you can suck a cock better than that."

Forcing back an exasperated sigh you practically unhinge your jaw to get your whole mouth around him, his fat cockhead hitting the back of your throat, making you gag. Javi laughs as you pull away.

"You a fucking amateur, mia linda?" he chuckles. "Or am I just too big for that bratty mouth?"

"Fuck you."

He grabs you by the chin and forces you to look up at him. Your eyes are big, wide, a hint of fear there mixed with desire. "Be good for me. Or do you need something more to keep you sweet?"

He reaches for the baggie and scoops out a small amount, making a nice line on the top of his cock. 

"C'mon, do a line for me, sugar." He brings your head down and immediately you snort the white powder off his dick.

"There you go.. putting those vices to good use for once. Now maybe you'll suck my cock like the proper little slut you are."

You're still sniffling up the remnants of the coke when he shoves himself inside your mouth again, the bitter taste of the drug mixing with the salty taste of his flesh. 

"Relax your throat," he commands. "I can't believe I have to tell you how to suck a cock," he tsk-tsks.

Your eyes are brimming over with tears as you take him deep inside your throat. He stays there, guiding your movements with his hands on the back of your head. You start to breathe through your nose as your airway gets stuffed full of Javi's throbbing dick.

"Just look at that pretty mouth, pretty purple lips spread open wide around my cock," he whispers. "That's right, baby, get my cock all messy with your lipstick."

He lets you pull away from him to catch your breath before pushing back in, thrusting into your mouth. Whether you like it or not, saliva fills your mouth, making the slide in easier. If he knew your pussy was getting just as wet right now he'd take full advantage.

By now the coke is taking effect, making your heart flutter, and your pleasure receptors are buzzing off the charts. If you were only a reluctant participant before, you're voracious now. You put all your effort into blowing Javier, eager for his moans and sharp curses, even when he pulls out and taps your cheek with his dick you can't help but giggle, seeking him out with your tongue so you can drag it along his length.

Soon you're getting into a rhythm, following his lead as he thrusts into your mouth, pulling you away, only to push in again, stuffing you full and deep as he grabs your hair. Your mascara runs down your face, black streaks down your cheeks, lipstick smeared, Javi's dick now a strange purple.

He likes watching his whole member disappearing inside you, excited by the way you're learning to take him. He stops playing nice and stuffs himself down your throat, shoving himself deep and thrusting shallowly while your arms flail in a vain attempt to push away from him.

"Nuh-uh.. we agreed. I can just take you in right now, all wrecked and ruined. I can already see the mugshot. Bet your mama would be so proud," he says sarcastically.

"Fuck you," you manage to say, lips swollen, saliva running down your chin and neck.

"Hey, that's not very ladylike. Then again, you're not much of a lady, are you? Now suck."

He thrusts inside you again, even though you gag on him, tasting the bitterness of your own bile creeping up your gullet.

"If you puke on me I'll just keep going. You think I'm worried about a little vomit?"

You force down the remnants of your dinner from earlier, simultaneously bringing him deeper into your mouth.

"Lift up that dress for me, want you to play with your pussy while you're sucking me off," he says, stuffing your mouth full with more of him.

You do as he says, picking up the hem of the dress over your hips and sticking your hand under your black lace thong. You're drenched and Javier can see it, smell your arousal as it fragrances the air between you. He's never smelled a sweeter pussy. 

"That's right, circle that pretty little clit for me, mamacita," he grunts, exiting your mouth to pull back and watch you for a little, a long thick string of saliva connecting between your lips and his dick. You look totally wrecked and he's not even done yet.

You work on yourself, pressing your clit, your little gasps fueling Javier's need. "There you go, drive yourself crazy for me," he says.

You dip your fingers inside your warm cunt, closing your eyes as you seek out the relief from the heat building between your thighs. "Nu-uh, baby, eyes on me," he purrs slipping back in, thrusting deep and slow, watching you, feeling how good it is when you moan around his dick.

"Perfect, fucking perfect," he moans when you deep throat him again, your tongue peeking out to lick his balls. "Fuck," he says, tightening the grip he has on your hair. "Freaky mamacita, aren't you? Done this before, haven't you? To a lot of guys, I bet."

You whimper around his dick, pulling away to get some air. You finger yourself into a frenzy and start to come. "Not yet," Javier growls, pulling you back onto his slobber-coated cock. "You gotta earn it if you wanna come," he tells you.

You whine about it but the energetic buzz the coke has given you is still at work, putting extra effort into sucking off your stepdad, a renewed energy and vigor to your mouth sucking his cock. 

"Damn, cariño.. you really want your bad little habit kept secret, huh?" Javier pants, head thrown back as you sloppily suck him off. "Fuck, fuck, I'm gonna come.. gonna spray that sarcastic little bitchy mouth with my cum.. you ready?"

He doesn't wait for an answer, slamming into your mouth with urgency, not a care for your comfort until he bursts in your mouth and you have no choice but to taste the hot saltiness of his release.

He pulls out slowly, and when you try to spit out his release he shoves it back in with his fingers, effectively gagging you in the process. "Swallow," he commands, and you do so obediently just as his other hand finds its way to your core. 

He curls his fingers into the waistband, pulling the thong up, rubbing the material against your wanting and willing core, rubbing hard against your clit. It's pleasure bordering on pain.

"Fucking hell, look how soaked you are," he coos. He watches the way your stringy slick clings to the lace of your thong. "You got all wet sucking me off, didn't you? Dirty girl. Muy sucia." He rubs the pad of his thumb over your exposed clit and smirks when you start panting like a dog in heat, thighs open to him, head thrown back, your hair sticking to the mess of saliva and lip gloss on your mouth and chin.

"There it is.. just what you wanted, huh? What you think about every time you look at me. You dream about my cock in your mouth and my fingers in your cunt, just like this.." He delves two thick digits into your wetness while stroking your clit and it's embarrassing how quickly you come on his fingers, your core quivering around him, expelling more fluid, coating his hand.

"That's it," he says gently, staying inside you until the little aftershocks are complete and your body is utterly spent. Your mouth tastes like his cum and the lingering bitterness of the cocaine is at the back of your throat. Despite your orgasm being over your heart is still jackhammering away. The high of both the drug and the orgasm combine to leave you teetering on the edge of sanity.

"Drugged out and fucked out," Javier mutters, watching you as he removes his fingers. He lets out a small noise of approval, his thumb gently tracing along your lip and the edge of your tongue for a moment before slowly sliding it inside your mouth. “Taste yourself, princesa.”

You make a little sound of pleasure, swirling your tongue along his thumb, your gaze on him.

His free hand moves to tangle in your hair to keep your head still as he slowly pulls his thumb out of your mouth, a thin string of saliva connecting his finger to your tongue as he looks down at you with half lidded eyes. "God, you look so good down there, cariño." 

Then he pushes you back on the bed. "Such a fucking mess," he mutters, tucking his cock back in his briefs and doing up his pants again. "Go clean yourself up. And no more fucking coke, got it?" he growls as he leaves, taking the baggie with him.

"We're square now, bebita," he says, giving one last look to your prone form, your skin flushed and sweaty, legs splayed out like a true coke whore. "But if I ever catch you doing something like this again, I'll do more than fuck that sweet little mouth of yours."

*chiquita ~ little girl | pendejo ~ idiot | carino ~ dear | princesita ~ little princess | chica ~ girl | cocaina ~ cocaine | bebita linda ~ pretty baby | mamacita ~ gorgeous/hottie | muy sucia ~ very dirty

dividers by @sweetmelodygraphics 👑

taglist: @myownwholewildworld @milla-frenchy @604to647

@vichons @itwasntimethatdidit40 @probablyreadinsmut

@drewharrisonwriter @joelmillerisapunk @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog

@everybodylovedcontractors @almostfoxglove @cxrsed-angel

@ohlookitspaperpixel @victorian-cherub @sawymredfox

@friendly-neighborhood-boricua @notgoingtomalta @darling-stevie

@letsgobarbs @devineconjuring

[chimielie]

hold ‘em up (above my heart)

summary: Atsumu x Physical Therapist!F!Reader. the sun rises and sets over and over as your relationship progresses from friends to pro yearners to more.

wc: 4.3k

cw: friends with benefits subplot and all that entails; not explicit, just suggestive, reader is fighting for her LIFE in her brain, atsumu is just chilling (not really)

a/n: hi i didn’t die :3

“Hands up,” you say, voice low so as not to disturb the peace of the morning.

Atsumu raises his arms, elbows bent, making a frame of his face. His blond hair is pale, almost white because his little kitchen window faces east and he wakes before it rises above the upper pane. You sidle past him, back to his front, ignoring the weight of his hand as it settles on your hip while you reach up for the granola you keep in the cabinet next to the fridge.

He likes traditional Japanese breakfasts, the savory and umami flavors of natto and rice and miso. You have a sweet tooth and a craving for crunchy food, like a wild animal that needs to grind down its molars. On the days he has work, he settles for an omelette (or scrambled eggs if he fucks it up). You eat the same thing every morning or you'll be sick.

Growing up, Atsumu was never a morning person, but he sleeps better on the nights you're next to him. He doesn't get angry when you slosh milk over the side of his bowl onto his dining table, doesn't snap when you ask him what his plans for the day are. Maybe this is what being an adult is, these steady waters and calm skies.

You don't speak much as you chew, staring into space and thinking the slow thoughts of the exhausted, and he busies himself scrolling through his group messages and social media accounts.

There's a request from a verified account, a retired athlete-turned-model. He knows her name, has seen her in ads, bumped into her at the last Olympics. He clicks on it.

Hey, handsome. I'll be in Osaka this upcoming weekend - let's get a drink!

"I'm gonna shower," you're patting your hair, looking irritated. It always sticks up in the morning, no matter how you sleep on it, a few particular strands defying gravity.

"You should go to work like that," he says, voice still rough even if his mind's woken up. His accent is thicker in the morning, you've told him, but he can't hear it.

"Hell no," you say. "You're the only one who gets to see this morning glory for now."

"I better be," his grin is roguish, running his hand through his own bird's nest. "C'mon, you gonna let me shower with you or what?"

"No, you'll use up all my nice shampoo again!" You fake running to the bathroom, keeping your pace slow enough for him to wrap his arms around your waist and tackle you down, careful to fold himself so that you land on top of him, body between his legs, face cushioned on his chest.

He leaves his phone face up, forgotten on the table.

He's toweling off his hair, dressed in his practice uniform, while you're packing your bag for the day in the kitchen. His apartment is small, way smaller than some of the other guys' on the team, but he grew up crammed into a room with his mom and his brother. He'd toured one penthouse and decided he couldn't live with all that space strangling him.

He'd tried to get Samu to bunk with him like old times, but his brother had just said I'll sleep three meters from your dirty laundry in hell, and that was the end of the argument.

Besides, he has a lot of car bills to pay. He managed to fold another Mazda last month and you've been carpooling in your ancient Toyota while he waits to get license privileges again ever since.

"You got a text, by the way," you say casually, digging through your purse with your lips twisted to the side. "Aha!" You pull out a tube of lipstick triumphantly. "You should respond before you forget."

"Ah, was it Samu?" He asks, crossing back into the bedroom to put away his damp towel.

"Nah, the model," you call. "Sorry, I read your texts."

You're fighting the growing bitterness of the words, trying to sound jaunty and uncaring and casual. The admission of invading his privacy weighs heavily on your shoulders; you can't make yourself look up into his face when he comes into the kitchen.

"I don't care," he shrugs. "You can read whatever you want."

"You shouldn't say that," you try to laugh and wince instead. He just grunts and picks up the phone, swiping away from the conversation and leaving her on read. "I don't have the right, don't I? I shouldn't have—"

"I really don't care," he cuts across your strained attempt at an apology again.

"You should!" You sound like you're about to stamp your foot at him. He doesn't understand why you're so angry; he doesn't bite. "Aren't you gonna get mad? Shouldn't we be fighting?"

"I don't wanna fight," he rubs his large, calloused hand over your shoulder, your upper trapezius, to cup the back of your and pull you into a loose embrace. You stand, dumbfounded, chin pushed into his shoulder, hands at your sides. "Do you? We can if you want to."

"No," you whisper. "Sorry, I—sorry."

"'S okay," he says, digging his thumbs into the tight knots of muscle. "No big deal. Here, you dropped your thingy."

The thingy is the tube of lipstick, a deep berry color, rolling towards the edge of the table. He steps back and squeezes your cheeks in one hands, prompting you to part your lips slightly. He does it how he knows you do, a soft smear on the lower lip and two dabs made sharp by a swipe of his thumbnail on the outer creases, all blended together at the end for a subtle touch of color.

"You look like a frog about to burp," he says when he's done. You laugh so hard you cry.

On the car ride to work, you keep chewing on your lip. He frowns when he notices, all his work bitten off.

You wait for him to get out of the car first, a holdover from the days when you would wait five minutes so no one would notice that you were coming from the same place. In some ways, it's easier that he crashed his car; so convenient that you volunteered to be his chauffeur. He comes to your side, opens your door. You squint at him, jutting your chin out like you're bracing yourself for something.

"I wasn't gonna go out with her," he tells you, a secret between you, him, and the hard asphalt of the MSBY gym's employee parking lot. "Ain't nobody else seein' this in the mornings either. That's all."

He turns around and strides off, leaving you blinking in the morning light.

"Can you move it?" You say, your brows knit together. Hinata grimaces.

"I can bend it, like this—" he curls the injured finger inward. "But it won't stretch out, like this. Ah!"

You release his hand, where you'd applied pressure to the digit. "It's sprained. You're sitting out the rest of practice."

"Aw, but it really doesn't hurt that bad," he protests. You give him a look. "Okay, okay. Can I least do some running and stuff?"

"Do you want to come to practice tomorrow?" You say evenly. He gives you big brown puppydog eyes and you fold like wet paper. "I'll give you some stretches and exercises for your legs that you probably can't fuck up."

"Yay!" He cheers. "Thank you!" He uses an affectionate diminutive of your name with -chan tacked on the end. You laugh and wave him off, walking out of the main gym area toward your office, where you can print him the exercises.

You lean against your desk while the printer huffs temperamentally, taking a long sip of coffee. You should really stop going over to Atsumu's on weeknights, but you've been telling yourself that for well over a year, and it's a lot more convenient since all your clothes and your toothbrush live at his place.

You tell yourself a lot of things when it comes to your blond coworker.

The door to your office slams open and you make an involuntary, high-pitched noise in the back of your throat, focusing hard on keeping the cardboard cup in your hand from jumping with you.

"Sorry, sorry," Bokuto says, his hair drooping dramatically. "It's just really important—Tsumu's hurt!"

You take an inhale so quickly it hurts and burst your coffee cup all over your coat and work pants. Luckily, you take it mostly milk and sugar, so it doesn't burn you, but you don't even really notice it, just shedding the coat and rolling up your sleeves as you stride out the door without hesitation.

Behind you, Bokuto follows, making garbled promises you hear as through water to buy you a house to make up for startling you and ruining your outfit.

You try to take three deep breaths before you enter the gym, knowing you'll be much more helpful calm rather than battling the wall of panic that threatens to overtake you. Atsumu is blocked from your vision by a crowd of his teammates, fluttering around him like a herd of bumblebees.

Iwaizumi is already there, you see with an exhale of relief, ordering everyone around him to stay calm. You motion to the players around him to give him space, hoping your terror doesn't show untowardly on your face, hoping he can feel your singleminded prayer: please be okay.

"Eh?" He has a dopey expression on his face, dopier than usual, anyway. He says your name gleefully, but you're too busy scanning him for visible blood or bone to respond right away. "Nice shirt. Hey, why's your coat off? Were you taking off your clothes in there? Without me?"

"He collided with Sakusa," Iwaizumi tells you. Atsumu reaches for your hand and you stroke your fingertips lightly over the back of it, along the bones and tendons, each touch saying you'll be okay, it's going to be okay.

I'll make it okay.

"Sakusa's shoulder got banged up, you should probably put him on reserve for a couple days," Iwaizumi says. You glance over at the black-haired spiker, who gives you a thumbs-up though his expression is characteristically flat. "Atsumu, though... he fell pretty hard."

You can see that. There's a bruise blooming along the side of his face, like the sloppy trail of your lipstick after a night out. His ankle is swollen, too; the disorientation of the head injury must have impaired the grace of his landing.

You kneel and shift into clinical mode, receding into the comfortable space of your training. You feel along his leg, asking him over and over does it hurt, can you move this, does it hurt when I do this.

"Okay, doc?" His beautiful honey eyes are unfocused. You want to cry. You want to squeeze his hand tighter, but you don't want to hurt him more. "S all good. I'm fine."

You shake your head, grateful it's not worse. Afraid of what you have to say to him.

"That's right, you'll be fine. But the concussion paired with the ankle injury... I don't think it's a good idea for you to return to practice for a month at least."

You squeeze your eyes shut and pull your hands away from him. He probably doesn't want to be touched. He might hate you for this.

What's the point of sleeping with the doc if I don't get special privileges, you imagine him saying, if you're gonna take my life away from me like this. A month of recovery doesn't sound like so much to other people, but you've been working around these volleyball freaks since high school. You know that it's everything to them.

"Okay," Atsumu simply says. You look at him. "You gonna drive me home?"

"If you don't mind," you say softly.

"Yeah, then it's okay," he says, and scoots around, hissing when he forgets and puts pressure on the injured ankle. He leans back, and you catch his head in your lap.

"I'm gonna break my leg," Barnes says from somewhere behind you. "I want the doc to hold me like that."

You hear a thwack and then Iwaizumi's voice: "Sakusa, stop concussing your teammates. L/N only has so much room in her car."

Atsumu recovers more quickly than you expect. You should have known, though; he's always had a strong ability to heal. He rarely gets sick and though he's brash and reckless and sometimes outright stupid, he's lucky. In almost all the inadvisable endeavors you've seen him pull, he almost never gets hurt.

You're not actually a doctor, not that the team believes that. You've been trying to explain that you're a sports medicine physical therapist for the three years you've been working for MSBY and not once has it deterred anyone from calling you doc.

Atsumu was signed six months after you started, and you had only been friends until a year after that. In all that time, you've been the consummate professional at work, never letting your touches linger, never stretching him too deeply, trying not to stare at him like he's just any other player. When he first propositioned you, you tried not to say yes too quickly, as businesslike as possible.

You went into sports medicine because of your sister. She had been a superstar from the moment she stepped foot on a tennis court; even at a young age you saw that she wielded the racket like it was an extension of herself. As the two of you grew in age, you also saw the ways she overextended herself: the swollen knobs of her knees, hidden under frozen packs of peas, the frequent doctor's visits for hyperextension, the tear tracks when she tore her ACL.

You had spent so much of your childhood waiting for her during practice, doing your homework in the bleachers, fielding questions about her play to the uninitiated relatives who came to support her matches that it felt like the most natural course of action to go into a career field that meant you could help her and others like her chase their dreams.

You had also almost exclusively dated athletes as a result. While you were attending university and chasing your certifications, you had been surrounded by two types of people: students and athletes. You had barely any time in your schedule, much less the ability to align it with a similarly crammed med student. Athletes, on the other hand, didn't have an obsession with comparing your knowledge, liked that you were too busy to monitor them all day long, and loved that you had to attend every one of their games because it was literally your job.

By the time you got the position in Osaka, you were beyond over the routine of dating the people in your care. You swore to yourself that you wouldn't mess around with the team and entered a yearlong celibate streak, which Atsumu blew up into a million pieces and never allowed to recover.

To his (and your) credit, the both of you became close friends before ever crossing the boundary of inappropriate conduct. Just because you were strictly business during work hours didn't mean that you, lonely and shy in a new city, were going to turn down your coworkers' offer to go out after practice. You'd gotten to know Meian well and considered Bokuto to be something of a little brother. Then they had traded a couple of players for Atsumu, and the moment he gripped your hand and slapped your shoulder instead of shaking it or bowing like a normal person, you knew that he was going to mean much more to you than any other of your team.

You had fallen quickly into a deep friendship, and his apartment was much closer to the team's favored bars than yours was, so it was just easier for you to go home and crash on his couch. And his couch was gross, because it belonged to a bachelor who had never heard of a steam cleaner, so one night you insisted on sharing the bed, and you had become good friends who cuddled weekly.

It happened like this:

You were the last two left in the booth that had once contained the extremely compressed bodies of several of the largest men in Japan, probably, but they had practice early the next morning and had trickled out, one by one. Atsumu had his head down on the table while you desperately tried to convince him to come home (already you were referring to his apartment as your home without thinking, though only a spare toothbrush and a coat were kept there at the time).

"Please," you said, "I'm so tired. I'm not even drunk anymore."

"I am," Atsumu said, turning his face toward you. "Very."

"I know," you groaned. "Let's go home."

"I can't," he said despondently.

"Why not?"

"Not with you," his words slurred together. "I gotta problem."

"What?" You suddenly felt very, very sick. Maybe you were more drunk than you'd thought.

"Mhm. I gotta apologize, I think."

Oh, you thought. This is it. He knows.

"I've been having," he hiccuped and turned his face into his arms again so that you couldn't hear the next thing he mumbled.

"I can't hear you like that," you say softly. "Please, Atsumu, you can tell me anything."

You've been seeing someone, and she wants me to stop sleeping over. She wants you to stop being friends with me. You need the apartment to yourself to have her over.

"No," he says, turning back to you again, his eyes glossy with drink, his lips pink and just the slightest bit open. "I have been having manly thoughts about you. Unmanly thoughts. Whatever."

"What do you mean?" You'd asked, heart beating fast.

"I wanna have sex with you," he said, and then slammed his forehead against the table until it left a red mark. "I'm sorry, women! It's wrong to dream about kissing your girl friends, I know!"

You ignored his nonsensical shouting and put your hand under his face so he wouldn't injure it.

"Then let's go home so we can have sex," you said. He whipped his head up so fast you worried for his spinal discs.

"You promise?"

You actually didn't have sex that night because he fell asleep as soon as you coerced him into the bed. The next morning, he'd been hungover and ashamed, stuttering and afraid to look you in the eye. You had given him a handful of painkiller pills and waited until he was washing it down with a glass of green juice before you said "I think about having sex with you, too," so that he spewed it all over the floor.

Maybe it was petty, but you needed vengeance for his forcing you to drag him bodily out of that bar the previous night.

After your first time, he said, awkwardly, something about not being able to commit to a relationship at the moment, something about difficulty expressing his feelings, about being too immature to settle. A script you were as familiar with as the back of your hands. You turned to him, swiping sweaty strands of hair out of your face, glowing with a smile as he stuttered his way through it, and said I know the game. We don't have to talk about it.

He insisted that it wasn't a game, that you deserved transparency and to be treated well, and you rolled over on top of him and kissed him until he forgot his own name.

During the month-long recovery period, you had resumed the friendship you had had in the early months of knowing each other, refusing adamantly to do anything strenuous or even unsportsmanly while you had to work much more closely together than ever before. You insist on sleeping at your own apartment for the first week, afraid of aggravating his injuries further, until he threatens to walk to you with his pillow and sleepover bag. You bring him food near-daily and call his brother when your schedule prevents you from doing so.

He's diligent about doing the exercises and stretches you assign him to bring him back to full functionality. Towards the end of his detention (you pinch him for using such a dramatic word), you start taking walks together, in the evenings on work days and the mornings on days off.

You keep expecting him to ask for space, to push you out of his daily routine, to realize that he's bored because he knows everything about you; there's nothing left to hide. Nothing except the one unspoken thing, the one you're sure he knows but you can't acknowledge.

New growth is beginning to sprout on the trees, grey wood dotted with little specks of bright green. Atsumu walks without a limp, now, his posture straight but relaxed, his hands shoved into his pockets.

His body is healed, but his heart aches. You're wearing casual clothes, big soft pants that billow around your legs and a black shirt with his name in yellow letters, and you look far away, worried. No matter how many times he smooths the pinch between your brows away with his thumb, no matter how many times he asks what's wrong, you refuse him a straight answer.

He wonders if he's pulled you too close, in this month dying of boredom, forbidden from running and setting and anything that could damage his brain. He still gets to see you in the morning, your back arching as you stretch and yawn, the crinkle of your nose when your feet touch the cold floor outside of bed, which is probably slowly draining all the function from his grey matter.

You're wearing gloves, your extremities sensitive to the cold. He takes your left hand, tugs it off. When he tangles your fingers together, you look up at him, questioningly, that knot between your brows back again.

"What, woman, now I can't hold your hand?"

You stop walking. He curses his big, fat mouth. He always chooses the wrong thing to say, always has.

Osamu used to ask him what he was supposed to say to girls. Atsumu, proud big brother that he wanted to be, would puff out his chest and give him paragraphs of advice, and Osamu almost never used it. There were so few opportunities for him to advise Samu, though; he was so self-sufficient, maybe more than Atsumu had ever been. He was more introverted, less brash and crass and rude. Sometimes, when Atsumu ceded his insistence on being the wiser one with six more minutes of life experience, he wished he could be more like his twin.

"Do you love me like that, Atsumu?" You ask, mouth pressed into an unhappy line, already pulling away from him like you were expecting him to say something completely insane. "Because I understood fucking, and being friends with benefits, but I don't know if I get going out for food and holding hands and—"

"Like?" He says, refusing to let your hand slip from his. "I love you. That's it."

"Oh," you say, and your mouth is twisted up like you're searching for something he can't see again, but the crease in your forehead is gone.

"You gonna go out with me?" He says, and it comes out way easier than he ever thought it would, and if choosing the rest of his life is as simple a decision as chasing volleyball and you has been, growing up sounds way better than he thought. "'Cause I wanna do it all with you."

Once Atsumu's allowed to drink again, it's time for the real volleyball season to start, and his diet becomes much stricter and your schedule much longer, but eventually the two of you find yourselves back at the same old bar with the rest of the team.

"You're a scrub with no hope of survival in the zombie apocalypse," sneers Atsumu. This is a common topic of conversation among them; each one vying to be the leader of your hypothetical ragged survivors' team.

"I could win a fight against you with one hand tied behind my back," snits Tomas, who usually is oblivious to Atsumu's provocations but gets a lot feistier when he's drunk, to the setter's delight.

"Please don't," says Bokuto, his hair deflating in fear of his friends fighting.

"Haven't you had enough dick measuring," says Sakusa, holding a mug in front of his face like it'll prevent him from seeing Atsumu's and thus pretending he's not there.

"Have you guys ever done that?" You perk up, looking around. "Isn't that supposed to be a locker room ritual?"

"In high school, maybe," snorts Barnes. "We're way too old for that now."

"Yeah, we're real mature," insists Bokuto, his hair bouncing back up into its familiar two-pronged shape. You’ve long wondered how it does that, but if working with MSBY has taught you anything, it’s that science can’t explain everything.

You nod, taking another sip of your beer.

“So how big is it?” Atsumu addresses Sakusa and you squeeze your eyes shut. You just got him to start attending team bonding nights.

“Small. Leave me alone.” You choke on your drink, spluttering as you make eye contact with Sakusa and the tiny, prideful smirk on his face.

The rest of the team dissolves into laughter.

"What about you?" Hinata, his cheeks rosy, says to Atsumu. Before you can think, your drunken mouth speaks for you.

"You can’t have it, I called dibs!”

You slap a hand over your mouth, mortified. You can’t even begin to think about the rest of your coworker’s reactions. You haven’t even disclosed your relationship yet! Atsumu guffaws.

“I don’t think anyone’s trying to take it from ya, doll.”

[jiminomenon]

what is jimin’s reaction to assistant yn threatening to quit?

from my series: the devil wears prada

the penthouse was silent—eerily so, considering the shouting match that had just taken place. the air between them was thick, charged with lingering frustration and unspoken words. jimin stood in the middle of the living room, arms crossed, expression locked in a stubborn scowl. y/n was a few feet away, breathing heavily, fists clenched at her sides.

neither of them had meant for it to escalate like this. it started with something minor—an argument over jimin’s impossible demands, her bratty attitude, the way she acted like y/n was hers to boss around twenty-four-seven. but then, words were thrown like knives, sharp and cutting.

and then y/n snapped.

“maybe i should just quit, then!”

the words ripped through the space between them. jimin stiffened instantly, her brows drawing together.

“what?” her voice was dangerously quiet.

y/n exhaled sharply, still fueled by frustration. “if you’re just gonna keep treating me like this, maybe i should just leave, huh? find another job where i’m actually respected.”

jimin scoffed, but there was a hint of uncertainty in her voice. “you wouldn’t dare.”

“why not?” y/n challenged, eyes blazing. “give me one good reason why i shouldn’t.”

jimin opened her mouth, but for once in her life, she had no comeback. no smug remarks, no bratty retorts. because the idea of y/n actually leaving—actually walking away—felt like a punch to the gut.

her jaw tightened. “you’re being dramatic.”

y/n let out a bitter laugh. “of course you’d say that.”

jimin hated this. hated the way y/n looked at her right now—like she was tired of her, like she was done.

“you’re not quitting,” jimin said firmly, like it was a fact, like she refused to acknowledge the possibility.

“and why not?”

“because—” jimin’s voice faltered. she wanted to say because i need you—because she couldn’t imagine her life without y/n constantly by her side, keeping her in check, understanding her in ways no one else did.

but that wasn’t how she worked. she didn’t admit things like that. she didn’t let people know how much they mattered.

“because i said so,” she settled on instead.

y/n’s expression darkened. “you don’t own me, jimin.”

“i never said i did.”

“but you act like it!”

the silence that followed was suffocating.

jimin hated the thought of y/n leaving, but she also hated feeling like this—out of control, vulnerable, on the verge of losing something she refused to name.

so she did what she did best.

she walked away.

but before she could fully disappear into her bedroom, y/n’s voice cut through the air.

“you don’t even care, do you?”

jimin froze.

“if i left, it wouldn’t even matter to you, right?” y/n’s voice was quieter now, but still laced with hurt. “you’d just find someone else to boss around.”

something snapped inside jimin. she turned around, storming back toward y/n, eyes burning with something unreadable.

“it would matter,” she said, voice low. “it would matter a lot.”

y/n blinked.

jimin exhaled sharply, running a hand through her hair, frustrated—at y/n, at herself, at the entire situation.

“you think i don’t care?” jimin continued, tone softer now but still firm. “you think i’d just let you go that easily?”

y/n didn’t respond.

jimin sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “i’m sorry, alright?”

y/n’s brows shot up. “what?”

jimin groaned. “don’t make me say it again.”

y/n stared at her, searching for any sign of insincerity—but, for once, jimin actually meant it.

a small smirk tugged at y/n’s lips. “wow. never thought i’d hear those words come out of your mouth.”

jimin rolled her eyes, crossing her arms. “don’t get used to it.”

y/n chuckled, shaking her head. her frustration wasn’t completely gone, but… jimin had apologized. and for someone as stubborn as her, that was a huge deal.

“you’re impossible,” y/n muttered.

jimin smirked. “and yet, here you are. still not quitting.”

y/n sighed dramatically. “unfortunately.”

but there was a warmth in her eyes now, and jimin—though she’d never say it out loud—felt like she could finally breathe again.

[lov3notts]

rewritten

theodore nott x reader

summary: part 3, can Theo fix things between you two? after so much heartbreak can you give him a second chance?

a/n:im sorry this took so long, I got hit with writers block and discouragement, hope you guys like it!!

Navigation; masterlist; request rules; part 1; part 2

Mattheo had seen Theo at his lowest before. After brutal duels, after fights with his father, after sleepless nights filled with too much firewhisky and not enough self-preservation. But this? This was different.

This wasn’t anger. Wasn’t recklessness.

This was nothingness.

Theo was sitting on the edge of his bed, elbows on his knees, staring at the floor like it had the answers to all of his problems. His dorm was a disaster—papers scattered, books left open, untouched meals sitting cold on his desk. The only movement in the room came from the slow rise and fall of his chest.

Mattheo leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed."Mate."

No response.

"You look like shit."

Still nothing.

Mattheo sighed, running a hand through his hair before stepping further into the room. "Alright, fine. You wanna sit here and wallow, go ahead. But you do know this isn’t sustainable, right?"

Theo didn’t even blink.

"Skipping class, not eating, shutting everyone out—what’s the end goal here?"

Silence.

Mattheo clenched his jaw, patience wearing thin. He walked over and grabbed a book off Theo’s desk before chucking it at him. It hit his shoulder, but Theo barely reacted.

That pissed Mattheo off.

"Are you fucking serious right now?" he snapped. "What, you’re just gonna waste away in here? That’s your big plan?"

Finally, Theo shifted. Slowly, he looked up, his face pale and hollow. His voice, when he spoke, was rough. "What do you want me to do, Mattheo?"

"Oh, I don’t know—anything but this?" Mattheo gestured around the room. "You’ve made some stupid decisions before, but this? This is pathetic, even for you."

Theo let out a humorless laugh, shaking his head. "Pathetic. Yeah. That sounds about right."

Mattheo exhaled sharply, dragging a chair closer and sitting across from him. "Listen, I get it. You fucked up. Big time. But wasting away in here isn’t gonna change that. You want her back? Fight for her. You want to move on? Then do it. But don’t just sit here acting like your life is over because she walked away."

Theo’s eyes darkened. "It is over."

Mattheo froze.

It wasn’t the words that shook him—it was the way Theo meant them.

"You don’t get it," Theo muttered, voice raw. "She wasn’t just some girl, Mattheo. She was everything. And I ruined it. I ruined her." His fingers dug into his knees, knuckles white. "So tell me, what exactly am I supposed to do now?"

For the first time, Mattheo didn’t have a quick response. Because fuck—he didn’t know.

He had never seen Theo like this before.

But he did know one thing.

"You need to talk to her," he said finally.

Theo scoffed, shaking his head. "She won’t listen."

Mattheo leaned forward. "Not if you keep sulking like a bloody ghost. But if you really love her? Then you have to at least try."

Theo swallowed hard, his walls cracking just a bit.

Mattheo sighed, standing up. "Look, I can’t force you to get your shit together. But I can ask for help." He glanced toward the door. "If you won’t go to her, maybe she’ll come to you."

Theo’s head snapped up. "Mattheo—"

"Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle," Mattheo said with a smirk, but there was no humor behind it. "Just sit tight, yeah?"

And with that, he walked out, leaving Theo alone with his demons.

The days after your fight with Theodore Nott were oddly quiet. Not because the world had stopped moving, but because a part of you had. No matter how much you tried to push forward, his words still echoed in your head.

“it was just a bet!”

Now, you were sitting in the Great Hall, trying to focus on your breakfast when a presence loomed over you.

"Can we talk?"

You glanced up and met Mattheo Riddle’s gaze. His usual smirk was absent, his dark eyes serious. That alone sent a chill down your spine. Mattheo never looked serious.

You hesitated. "Depends. What about?"

He exhaled sharply and took a seat across from you without invitation. "It’s Theo."

Your stomach twisted, but you masked it with indifference. "Not my problem."

Mattheo scoffed. "Yeah, well, that’s the thing. He’s not exactly making himself anyone’s problem anymore. He’s barely eating, hasn’t been to class in days, and I haven’t seen him leave his room since—" He stopped himself, but you knew what he was about to say.

Since you left him on his knees in the library.

You forced yourself to take a bite of toast, despite suddenly losing your appetite. "And what do you expect me to do about it?"

"You don’t have to do anything. But maybe… just talk to him?"

You let out a dry laugh, shaking your head. "You do remember that he completely shattered my trust, right? That I was just some game to him?"

Mattheo ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. "I know, okay? I know he screwed up. And if you never want to see him again, I get it. But…" His voice lowered. "I don’t think he’s okay. I don’t think he will be if someone doesn’t pull him out of whatever the hell he’s drowning in."

That made your chest tighten. No matter how much Theo had hurt you, you couldn’t pretend you didn’t care. But did you care enough to reopen old wounds? To look at the person who betrayed you and risk getting hurt all over again?

Mattheo must have seen your hesitation because he leaned forward, his voice softer now. "I wouldn’t be here begging if I thought he could fix this himself. But he can’t. And like it or not, you’re the only one who can get through to him."

You swallowed hard, gripping the edge of the table.

This was a bad idea. A terrible idea.

But deep down, you already knew what you were going to do.

You stood in front of his dormitory door, your hand hovering over the doorknob, the air thick with uncertainty. You’d come here, but now that you were standing here, the doubt crept back in. Was this the right choice? Could you really face him? Could you even talk to him without everything you felt rushing back—without everything he did rushing back?

You knocked softly, but there was no response. The quiet only made the pressure in your chest grow. Hesitant, you slowly turned the knob, and to your surprise, the door creaked open.

The room was dim, only a few rays of light slipping through the curtains. And there, in the middle of the room, was Theodore Nott. He was lying on his bed, staring at the ceiling with an unreadable expression. His body was curled into itself, as if he were trying to shrink away from the world.

A pang of guilt surged through you. You wanted to turn away, to run, but you couldn’t.

Your feet moved before you could stop them, one step at a time, until you were standing beside his bed. You swallowed hard, trying to steady the whirlwind of emotions inside you. "Theo?"

His head snapped toward the sound of your voice, his eyes wide with shock. His expression froze as he stared at you—like he was afraid, as if seeing you might be some cruel trick. His eyes, so full of confusion and fear, shimmered with unshed tears.

"Y/N?… You came?" His voice was barely a whisper, like he didn’t believe you were really there.

A wave of emotion washed over you, but you pushed it down, trying to keep your voice steady. "Mattheo said you weren’t doing well.”

Theo didn’t say anything. He just stared at you, as if your words hadn’t even fully registered yet. His eyes searched your face, every line of his body tense, too afraid to even move, like any sudden movement would make you disappear. You could see how broken he looked, how much he wanted to believe this wasn’t just some dream.

He opened his mouth to say something but stopped himself, as if trying to find the right words, or maybe wondering if words even mattered anymore.

You glanced past him into the room. It was a mess—books scattered, clothes thrown carelessly, a tray of untouched food on the desk. It smelled like stale air and something heartbreakingly lonely.

You hesitated before speaking. "This isn’t you, Theo."

"I don’t know who I am without you," he admitted, voice raw.

You turned to him sharply, something inside you cracking at the sheer honesty in his voice. "Theo…"

"No, let me say this."He exhaled shakily, running a trembling hand through his hair. "I know I don’t deserve to ask for anything from you. I don’t deserve to stand here and beg, but—" He cut himself off, pressing his lips together like he was trying to hold himself together.

And then, quietly, "I don’t know how to exist without you."

Your breath hitched. "You were the one who broke us, Theo. You made that choice."

"I know." His voice cracked. "And I hate myself for it. Every second of every day, I regret it. The bet, the lies, all of it—it was the biggest mistake of my life."

You swallowed, arms tightening around yourself. "Then why did you do it?"

"Because I was a coward." He let out a bitter laugh. "Because I had you—this brilliant, beautiful, impossible thing—and I was terrified that you were too good to be real. That I would love you and you would leave, so I ruined it before you could."

His confession left you breathless.

You had spent so long believing you were never enough for him. That you had been nothing but a game. But hearing this—hearing that he had been just as scared as you had—made your chest ache.

"I never wanted to hurt you," Theo whispered. "But I did. And I don’t expect you to forgive me. But I need you to know that I loved you. That I still do."

You blinked, eyes burning. "Theo…"

"I would move mountains just to be with you again," he continued, voice shaking. "Even if it takes years. Even if you never look at me the same way again. I’ll do whatever it takes to prove to you that you were never just a bet to me."

Tears slipped down your cheeks, unbidden, and Theo’s breath stuttered like the sight of your pain was physically hurting him.

He reached out instinctively but stopped himself, his hands hovering inches from yours. "Tell me there’s still a chance." His voice was barely a whisper. "Even if it’s not today. Even if it’s not soon. Just tell me I haven’t lost you forever."

You stood there, heart hammering, torn between the pain of the past and the boy in front of you—broken, vulnerable, real.

This was the moment.

The moment where you could walk away, close the door, leave him to his regret.

Or you could stay.

You took a breath.

And then, finally, you spoke.

The first few days after you left his dorm were the hardest.

Theo had promised you he’d fix himself, that he’d become better—not for you, but for himself first. But promises were just words, and words had never been enough. Not when he had already shattered your trust once.

So, for the first time in weeks, he forced himself out of bed.

It wasn’t easy. The weight of his mistakes clung to him like a sickness, making even the smallest things feel impossible. Eating felt pointless. Attending class felt meaningless. But he did it anyway. One step at a time.

At breakfast, Mattheo raised an eyebrow when Theo sat down at their usual table, his plate only half-full.

"Didn’t think I’d see you out of that damn room anytime soon," Mattheo muttered, nudging his shoulder.

Theo didn’t respond right away, just picked at his food before finally saying, "I need to fix things."

Mattheo huffed out a short laugh, though there was no malice behind it. "Yeah? And how do you plan on doing that?"

Theo didn’t have an answer yet. But he knew one thing—he couldn’t keep being this version of himself. The one who wallowed in his grief, who drowned in guilt without trying to swim to the surface.

So, he changed.

He stopped avoiding the world. Stopped shutting people out.

He went to class, even when his mind screamed at him to go back to bed. He studied harder than he ever had before, pouring himself into books instead of his own self-loathing. When his friends spoke to him, he actually listened instead of shutting them out.

He even picked up his journal again, spilling his thoughts onto paper in a desperate attempt to make sense of the chaos inside his head. He wrote letters—ones meant for you, ones that would never be sent. Some were apologies, some were confessions, but all of them were real.

But it wasn’t about getting you back.

It was about becoming someone who deserved you.

Someone you could trust again.

Weeks passed before he saw you again.

It wasn’t planned. It wasn’t fate. It was just life forcing their paths to cross like it always did.

You were sitting by the Black Lake, your nose buried in a book, completely lost in the words. He should’ve walked away. Should’ve kept his distance. But his feet betrayed him, halting a few steps away from you.

You must’ve felt his presence because you looked up, your eyes meeting his.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. Theo braced himself for the worst—coldness, anger, maybe even indifference. But instead, you studied him, like if you were trying to figure out if the person standing before you was the same one who had broken your heart.

"You look… different," you said softly.

Theo swallowed. "I had to be."

your gaze didn’t waver. "Why?"

"Because the person I was before didn’t deserve you."

Something flickered in your expression, but you didn’t look away. You just nodded, your grip tightening around the book on your lap.

Not forgiveness. Not yet.

But something.

Weeks turned into months. Theo didn’t push, didn’t force his way back into your life. He just showed up.

Not in the obvious ways. He didn’t beg or plead. Didn’t bombard her with apologies. Instead, he proved himself in the quiet moments.

He helped first-years struggling with their potions when no one was watching. He started paying attention in class, excelling in subjects he used to neglect. He let people rely on him, let himself become someone trustworthy—not just to you, but to everyone around him.

And then, when the time was right, he left something for you.

A book.

Your favorite one, sitting on the library table where you used to study together. But inside, tucked between the pages, were letters.

Dozens of them. Some dated weeks ago, some written only days before.

You hesitated before picking it up, flipping through the pages. And then you saw the first note.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Entry One

Date: The Night You Left

I haven’t stopped thinking about the look in your eyes. The way you froze. The way your breath caught like I had knocked the air out of you.

I keep telling myself that if I had just shut up, if I had just walked away instead of letting my anger win, you’d still be here. But I didn’t. I let the worst version of myself take control, and now I have to live with the fact that the last thing you heard from me was a lie.

Because that’s what it was. A lie.

You were never a bet.

Not for a single second.

You were the first thing in my life that ever felt real. The first person who looked at me like I was worth something. The first person I ever truly, fully loved. And I threw that away. I let my pride, my temper, my own self-destruction take over, and I broke the one thing I never wanted to lose.

I don’t know how to fix this. I don’t even know if I can. But if I have to spend the rest of my life proving to you that what we had—what we have—is real, then I will.

Even if it’s too late.

—Theo

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Entry 2

Date: One Week Without You

I see you everywhere.

In the empty chair across from me in the library. In the spaces between my fingers where yours used to fit. In the quiet moments where your voice used to live.

And I wonder—do you miss me at all? Do you hear my name in whispers? Do you reach for me in your sleep? Or am I just a scar you’re waiting to fade?

If you told me to wait for you, I would. I would wait for days, for months, for years—as long as it took for you to believe that I never meant those words. That you were never a game to me. That you were the only thing that ever made sense in my life.

But you haven’t told me anything.

So I wait anyway.

Because I can’t imagine a world where I ever stop hoping for you.

—Theo

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Entry 3

Date: Two Weeks Without You

I should’ve told you how beautiful you looked in the mornings, when your hair was a mess and your voice was still laced with sleep.

I should’ve told you how your laugh could pull me out of my worst days, how it became the sound I searched for in crowded rooms.

I should’ve told you that loving you scared me. That it made me feel like I had something to lose for the first time in my life.

I should’ve told you that the night we had our first kiss, I went back to my dorm, sat on my bed, and smiled—just sat there, grinning like an idiot, because I knew, in that moment, that I was done for. That you had ruined me for anyone else.

I should’ve told you that I loved you more than I loved myself.

Maybe if I had, you’d still be here.

-theo

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Entry 4

Date: three Weeks Without You

You probably don’t know that I still sit in the library, right where you left me. Not every night. Just the ones where I can’t breathe.

You probably don’t know that I reread our old notes, the ones we used to pass back and forth in class. I keep them in my bag like they’re sacred, like they’re proof that once, you laughed with me. That once, I wasn’t just a mistake to you.

You probably don’t know that every time I hear your name, my hands shake.

That I’ve started keeping a list of all the things I should’ve done differently.

That I miss you in a way that feels like it might kill me.

But the worst part?

You probably don’t care anymore.

And I deserve that.

—Theo

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Entry 5

Date: The Day You Knocked on My Door

I thought I was dreaming.

I heard the knock, but I didn’t move. I figured it was Mattheo, coming to drag me out of this room again, to remind me that I’m still supposed to be alive, even when I feel like I’m not.

But then I heard your voice.

And suddenly, I was alive.

I was shocked to see you. Not because I didn’t want to see you—I ached to see you—but because I was afraid. Afraid that I had imagined it. Afraid that you were here just to tell me, to my face, that you were done for good.

But you weren’t.

You were there.

Standing in my doorway, looking at me like you didn’t recognize me anymore. Maybe you don’t. Maybe I really am just a shell of the person you once loved.

You didn’t say anything at first. And I didn’t either. I was too busy memorizing the way your hands twitched at your sides, the way your lips parted slightly like you wanted to speak but didn’t know where to start.

And then, finally—"Mattheo said I should talk to you."

Your voice was quieter than I remembered. Or maybe I had just forgotten what it was like to hear it so close.

I wanted to tell you everything. I wanted to fall to my knees again and beg, to tell you that I haven’t slept, that I haven’t breathed right since you walked away, that I would do anything to rewrite the past.

But instead, I just nodded.

Because I knew this wasn’t my moment to fall apart. This was your moment to decide if I was worth saving.

So I stood there.

Waiting.

Hoping.

Daring to believe that maybe—just maybe—you hadn’t given up on me yet.

—Theo

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Entry 6

Date: One Month Without You

I don’t just want your forgiveness.

I want your trust. Your laughter. Your sleepy morning voice. The way you roll your eyes at me but secretly smile when you think I’m not looking. The way you say my name like it’s something safe.

I want you.

And I know I have no right to ask for that.

But if there is even the smallest chance—if there is even the tiniest sliver of hope that you still look at me and see something worth saving—then I will not waste it.

I will prove it to you. With every breath, with every action, with every single moment I have left in this life.

Because I love you.

And I will spend a lifetime making it right.

—Theo

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

At first, your hands tremble. The pages feel heavier than they should, like they’re carrying all the weight of the past, of everything left unsaid, of him.

You tell yourself you’ll just read one. Just a glimpse. Just to know if he even cares.

But then one turns into two. Then three. Then all of them.

And suddenly, you can’t breathe.

Because this isn’t just guilt. This isn’t just some empty apology, some desperate attempt to win you back with words. This is raw. This is pain. This is love.

This is a boy breaking himself open, spilling every ugly, unspoken truth onto paper because he doesn’t know how else to reach you.

And God, you feel it.

You feel it in the way his handwriting shakes in some letters but steadies in others, like he’s fighting himself, like he’s trying to hold on and let go at the same time.

You feel it in the confessions he never said out loud—the ones about how he saw you in everything, how he would’ve moved mountains to take it all back, how he doesn’t just want you to forgive him, he wants you to trust him.

And when you read the last letter—the one about how he would spend a lifetime making it right—you realize something.

He never stopped fighting for you.

Not once.

Not even when he thought he had already lost.

And then, with your chest so tight it almost hurts, you look up.

He’s already watching you.

Theo looks like he’s barely breathing, like the moment is too fragile, like if he moves too fast, you might disappear. There’s something in his eyes you haven’t seen in a long time—something that almost makes your throat close up.

Hope.

He doesn’t say anything. He’s waiting. Letting you decide what happens next.

And for the first time in a long time, you realize…

He means it.

Every word. Every promise.

The silence between you stretches, thick with everything unsaid. The letters are still clutched in your hands, his words lingering in your chest, pressing against the pieces of your heart that you swore were too broken to be put back together.

Theo swallows hard. His hands twitch at his sides, like he wants to reach for you but doesn’t dare. "Say something," he finally murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper. "Please."

You inhale sharply, steadying yourself. "Do you really mean it?"

He doesn’t hesitate. "Every word."

"And you’re not just saying all of this because you miss me? Because you feel guilty?" Your voice is careful, guarded—because this has to be real. If you give him your heart again, there’s no surviving if he shatters it a second time.

Theo steps closer. Not too close, but enough that you can see the raw desperation in his eyes. "I’m saying this because losing you was the worst thing that has ever happened to me. Because I was an idiot, and I hurt you, and I will never forgive myself for that." He pauses, his breath shaky. "But more than anything, I’m saying it because I love you. I never stopped. And I never will.*"

Your heart clenches painfully. "Theo…"

"You don’t have to say it back," he cuts in quickly. "You don’t have to promise me anything. Just—" He exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair, struggling to find the right words. "Just tell me there’s a chance. Tell me I haven’t lost you forever."

You look at him then, really look at him. He’s not the same person he was that night in the library. He’s not the boy who let pride and recklessness ruin the best thing in his life. He’s different. He’s trying.

And that’s when you know.

You step forward, closing the distance between you. His breath catches as your hand brushes against his—light, hesitant, but enough to make his whole body go still.

"I’m still angry," you admit softly. "I’m still hurt."

Theo nods, his jaw tightening. "I know."

"But…" You take a breath, steadying yourself. "I believe you."

His eyes widen slightly, like he wasn’t expecting those words. "You—"

"I believe that you mean it," you clarify. "And if you’re really going to prove it—if you’re really going to fight for this—"

You pause, feeling the weight of this moment. Then, finally, you say the words that make his breath shudder.

"Then I’m willing to try."

For a second, Theo doesn’t move. He just stares at you, like he’s afraid he imagined it. But then—

"You won’t regret it," he swears, his voice cracking slightly. "I swear on everything, I won’t waste this chance."

And when he finally, finally takes your hand—holding it like it’s the most precious thing in the world— you let him.

ᥫ᭡reblog's & comment's are appreciatedᥫ᭡

©lov3notts ,do not copy, translate or claim any of my writing or works as your own.

tag list: @simp-for-fantasy @nottinmyheart

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

Speak up

Sam and Dean Winchester & little sister!reader

Requested by @outof-spite and Anonymous (+ @ whoever I swear left me a vampire request that I think I lost, hopefully you know who you are)

Synopsis: You barely talk, and never raise your voice . . . So the boys are in for a surprise during a hunt

“Could you speak up?”

Dean watched you flounder for a moment after the waiter’s demand spilled out. You managed to stutter a few—still mumbled—words, but nothing the waiter would understand.

“She said she wanted the burger,” Dean spoke up for you. “No pickles.”

You squirmed sheepishly in your seat as the waiter walked away, but Dean was unfazed.

“Sorry,” you mumbled.

“Don’t worry about it.” Dean shook his head. He was used to your soft voice, and he’d been speaking for you since you learned to talk. “I got you.”

…

“Last one,” Sam said to Dean as he tied off the last stitch in Dean’s arm. “Finished.”

“About dang time,” Dean grumbled, rubbing his arm.

“And if you pull at them, I’m gonna have to do it again,” Sam chided. He turned suddenly when you tugged on his arm. “Yeah?”

You held onto his sleeve with one hand, holding your other one up for him to see. It was now that he noticed your wrist twisted at an odd angle.

“Jeez, kid,” Dean hissed, looking over Sam’s shoulder. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

You just shrugged, and Sam shook his head.

“Ok, alright, just keep your arm still, ok?” Sam took your hand in his, putting his other hand on your arm to keep it still. Sam met Dean’s eye for a split second before looking back at you. “Ready? One—“

“Boo!” Dean’s outburst interrupted Sam’s counting, catching your attention just as Sam twisted your wrist back into position.

You let out a sound that was half laugh and half whimper, but it was hardly louder than the sound of the wind outside.

“You ok?” Sam asked softly. You nodded, burrowing into his side while you cradled your wrist.

“You’re a tough kid,” Dean told you, ruffling your hair. You offered him a small smile, but no words.

The boys were used to your quiet nature, so it rarely concerned them. This felt a little different to Sam.

“Hey, you gotta let us know when you’re hurt, ok?”

“I did,” you mumbled. “I just wanted you to fix De up first.”

“Don’t do that,” Dean cut in. “I want you fixed up first, every time.”

But you didn’t answer him, and Sam knew this would be something you and Dean would both be stubborn about.

…

“Sam, take the front with me. Y/N, you can go around the back.”

“You…you want her going alone?” Sam asked.

“There are big windows in the back, it’s brighter. The vampires won’t be back there, she’s going in as backup.” Dean’s eyes met yours. “You up for a little solo trip, kid?”

You hefted your machete and gave Dean a firm nod.

He grinned. “That’s what I thought. Let’s go.”

…

You slipped around the side of the run-down home, surprised to see boards nailed up over the windows in the back. You hesitated, wondering if you should go get Dean—obviously the vampires would be free to roam the back of the house with the windows boarded up—but you decided against it. Dean had given you this task, and you wouldn’t let a few pieces of wood stop you.

…

Dean was surprised at how few vampires he and Sam encountered in the front of the house. They were met instantly by three, and it was quick and easy work lobbing off their heads.

“I thought there’d be more,” Sam admitted. “Do you think—“

The shriek that echoed through the little shack would haunt Dean for the rest of his life. It was so jarring that he froze on the spot, his eyes seeking out Sam’s in the gloom.

“Was that—that was—“ Sam’s voice broke, and he followed his big brother as Dean kicked open the door to the back room and ran in, machete clenched tightly in his fist. The room he’d busted into was empty, and Dean looked frantically around for another door.

“Dean!” The scream was so foreign that for the second time, Dean was struggling to place it as you. Never, on a hunt or during a scary movie or in a fit of anger or—or anything—had Dean heard you yell like that, or at all. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d heard you speak higher than a soft murmur.

“Dean—“ Sam’s frantic voice snatched Dean’s attention, and he turned to see Sam shoving open a door at the far side of the room. “It came from this way.”

But through the door was a hallway that split two ways, and the brothers could no longer hear your screams to guide their way.

With a simple gesture nod of his chin, Dean relaid a plan to Sam; Dean would go one way, Sam the other.

Dean stalked down the hallway, his heart hammering in his ears and his machete gripped in his sweaty palms. He passed room after room, but there was no sign of you or the vamps.

“Dean!” Unlike when you screamed, Dean recognized Sam’s cry for help immediately. He turned on his heal, dashing for where he last saw his brother.

“Sam!” Dean rounded the corner, but there was no one in sight. “No no no no—“ Dean growled, rushing out the back door into the fresh air. A car was already speeding down the dirt road—the vampires must have braved the sun in order to take their hostages away. Dean rushed around to the front of the house and threw himself into the Impala. The tires crunched on the road as Dean slammed the car into reverse and twisted it around, swerving around the house and following down the dirt road that the vampires had disappeared down with his siblings.

“Cas,” Dean spit out as he drove. “Cas, things are really going bad down here. We could use some backup.”

…

“Sam? Sa-Sammy?”

Sam awoke to a pounding headache and to your quiet voice stuttering his name.

“The big one’s awake!” A grating voice made Sam cringe as he opened his eyes and squinted in the dim light. Course ropes bound his wrists, and he felt hard concrete under him as he shifted until his eyes finally fell on you.

“Sammy?” You were a whimpering mess, curled in on yourself with tears streaming down your face and blood matting your hair to your neck, which was stained red and still bleeding.

“Hey—“ Sam forced himself to sit up, mentally doing a wellness check; it didn’t feel like he’d been bitten, and the only thing that hurt was his head from when one of the cowardly monsters had snuck up behind him and knocked him out. “Hey, are you ok?” He asked you.

“I’m—I’m—“

“Oh she’s fine.” A vampire sauntered over to the two of you, flashing a mouthful of razor sharp teeth that were stained red. “I just had a little snack while you were asleep,” he added, stepping closer to you.

You were cringing away from the monster, your pale body shuddering.

“Get away from her!” Sam snapped.

The vampire ignored Sam, lifting you by the front of your shirt and lowering his head to your neck.

Sam tried to throw himself at the vamp to stop him, but the rest of the nest had come to watch, and one of them grabbed onto Sam to stop him.

“Stop! Leave her alone, don’t hurt her!” Sam could do nothing but protest as the vampire fed off his little sister. For the first time, he noticed the other bite marks on you—more than one vamp had fed on you while he was unconscious. It wasn’t just your neck, either; Sam saw bites all along your shoulder, blood marks on your stomach, and a ripped and bloody mess at your thigh. Sam felt his stomach lurch at the image of half a dozen vampires feeding on you, their fangs ripping up your skin and their monster hands all over you.

He wasn’t going to let it happen again.

“You’re gonna kill her!” Sam yelled. When no one paid him any mind, he head butted the vamp that was holding him in place, giving him a moment of freedom that he knew he’d have to use wisely. With his hands tied, his options were limited, so he followed his instincts and threw himself in front of you, knocking the vampire that had been feeding on you to the ground.

It was a good plan—Sam was now able to be between the vampires and you, giving him a moment to reason with them while you weren’t in as much danger.

“Keep her alive and-and you’ll have an unlimited supply,” Sam babbled, grasping for any possible argument to save you. He’d glanced back long enough to see you, ghostly pale and trembling, looking like you barely had life left in you. “But if you take anymore of her blood now you’re gonna kill her.”

The vampire wiped your blood off his chin, a sickening grin on his face.

“That’s all well and fine.” He chuckled. “Except we haven’t eaten in days, so we’re not too worried about conserving our supply.”

“Then—“ Sam swallowed. He could hear your ragged breathing behind him and feel your tiny hand on his arm, tugging at his jacket like you wanted to stop him from what you knew was coming. “Then feed on me. Not her.”

“Sammy.” Your tiny voice cracked as you tugged at your brother’s arm. Sam turned around to face you, effectively blocking you from seeing the vampires behind him.

“It’s ok, it’s ok,” he promised, brushing your blood-soaked hair away from your face. “You’re gonna be ok.” He leaned forward, kissing the side of your head so he could whisper— “Dean’s gonna find you, you’re gonna be ok.”

“Don’t—don’t—“ you choked, gripping Sam’s hands in a vice grip.

“I gotta protect you,” Sam said, a smile reaching his lips despite the terror in his eyes as the vampires grabbed onto his shoulders and yanked him away from you. “That’s what big brothers do, kid.”

You tried to go to him, but one of the vampires held you back, tying you to the leg of a desk next to you while the others forced Sam to his knees.

“It’s ok, it’s gonna be ok,” Sam repeated even while he grimaced as a vampire bit into his neck.

You started screaming when Sam’s eyes fluttered closed, the blood draining from his face as he swayed on his knees.

“No! Stop, no!”

…

Once again the harrowing sound of your shrieking froze Dean in his tracks, and even Castiel’s step faltered.

“It—I—this way.” Dean shook off his fear as he led the way towards the sound of your voice.

…

Sam’s head was starting to droop, his breathing labored, when the door swung open, slamming into the wall with a deafening crash.

Dean and Cas burst in, wasting no time in taking out the first vampires that dared to get too close to them.

The vamps nearest to you and Sam forgot you instantly, rushing to attack the two new threats.

They’d been relieved of their heads before they’d gotten one swing into the fight.

Dean rushed to check on Sam, dropping to his knees to untie him while Cas went to you. Once your hands were free, Cas tried to heal the obvious injuries he could see across your skin, but you were dashing away from him before he got the chance.

“Sam!” Your voice echoed around the concrete walls, and the pain and desperation Dean heard in it knocked him back on his heels.

Sam groggily lifted his head just in time to see you running into his arms. You slammed into him, and Sam held you in a death grip to him, rocking you back and forth.

“It’s ok,” he promised. “We’re ok.”

“I love you,” you whispered.

Sam knew right then that he’d rather have to decipher your mumbling for a million people than have to hear you scream in pain and fear again. He knew right then that your quiet whispers were the best sound he’d ever heard.

“I love you too,” he whispered back, words only for your ears.

“I need to heal you,” Castiel spoke up, breaking the two of you apart.

“Sammy first.” Sam barely heard your voice as you made your request to the angel.

“What did you say?” Cas asked. Instead of answering, you tugged at Cas’s hand and pushed it against Sam’s forehead, making Sam grin. Cas’s hand pulsed blue, and color returned to Sam’s face as he took a deep breath and the bite mark at his neck closed up.

“Here.” Sam shrugged his jacket off and wrapped it around you, covering the rips in your clothes before nodding to Cas to heal you. Sam saw Dean clenching his fists, and knew that his older brother had seen the bites covering your body.

“Thanks Cas,” you whispered, and Sam knew at once that Cas hadn’t heard you. Before the angel could ask, though, Sam wrapped you in his arms and mouthed to his friend—thank you.

Cas nodded, and Dean tugged at your arm.

“You ok sweetheart?” He asked. His eyes were wide and his hands were trembling, the adrenaline from hearing your screams not yet worn off.

You nodded, yet again mumbling. But Dean wasn’t impatient now—he just leaned closer and gently asked you to speak again.

“Can we go home now?” You asked. Dean grinned and tugged you into his arms.

“Yeah kiddo,” he said. “Let’s go home.”

Taglist:

@nyotamalfoy @mrvlxgrl @chocorade @aestheticdaisies @inlovewhithafairytale @that-wannabe-vangoghgurl @casmustdiee @987coley @deadlymistletoe @wayward-impala83 @whump-loverz @johannelis2302nely @studiogrimm810 @tell-elle

[rensukepie]

DO YOU DO REQUEST???? I'm sorry if you're not:(

Going as anon, since it's Michael's bday today:) This is my first time requesting,:( birthday S3x for Michael kaiser!! Thank you if you accept it:( !!<33

┈─★ #. birthday gift! ┈─༄ m. k

contains : reader gives kaiser a blowjob :3, praise, established relationship, switch kaiser(?) (more leaning dom though ngl), german pet names ^__^, dacryphillia, reader puts a bow on it, reader calls him mihya :3, creampie, p in v, full nelson

a/n : IM SO SORRY FOR TAKING SO LONG ON THIS ANON :;( his birthday passed like two months ago… again like i said in my last post, i went into a FAT writers block unfortunately..

pretty boys like him deserve special birthday gifts, don’t they?

mdni

nsfw under the cut

“he’s so pretty” is what you think to yourself on the daily.

so when the 25th rolls around and all of the guests are now gone, you give him his birthday gift, something made for your pretty birthday boy and him only.

“happy birthday, mihya!” you say sweetly, handing him his gift. “open it!”

it’s a cute little card for how thankful you are for him, but there’s something else in that card, a paper that says “lift me!! :3”

and not to your surprise, he lifts it up, polaroid after polaroid of you in the most precious yet delicate lingerie sets ever! pretty lace in different colors and designs.

“do you like it, mihya?” you say, acting innocent as if you didn’t know the polaroids were there.

“you’re gonna ask me that after you just gave this to me, liebling? look how fucking hard you got me..” he says, a groan leaving his lips as he palms himself.

he likes the gift you got him, he’s so grateful for it, but what’s the fun in not teasing you?

“m’sorry mihya—! i promise i’ll make it up to you! will do anything, baby..” you knew he liked the gift, and you knew what he wanted right away, a blowjob, maybe?

┈─ ༄ ★

“your cock is so pretty, mihya…” you whisper, beads of pre leaking out of his pink tip as you rub it with your thumb before putting your tongue out to taste him, the pretty bow you added on his cock complimenting the appearance of it. “it’s so pretty with this bow here, right? ‘s like a present..”

“mmf—if you wanted to give me a blowjob for my birthday, you could’ve just said it…” he groans at your antics, the pleasure slowly taking over him, tears in your eyes as you try to take more and more of him into your mouth.

“tearing up? gotta make you practice some more…. want you to take my cock fully…”

he thinks you’re such a pretty crier on his cock! your mouth trying to take more and more of him in each time just makes him even harder.

“what a good girl you are… taking my cock so well for me, hm?” he whimpers, the feeling of your wet mouth controlling him and his pretty sounds. who knew you could have so much power over him?

“o—only f’you, mihya…” you tease as he is closer to the edge, taking him a little more deeper in your pretty mouth. “want allll of your cum tonight… please, mihya.. wanna make you feel soooooo good..”

“d—don’t say shit like that, baby… ‘s gonna make me cum if you do…” he grunts, his dominant hand pulling your hair into a ponytail tightly.

“b—but what if that’s what i want though..?” you look up at him with glossy eyes, a pout forming on your lips.

┈─ ༄ ★

“o—ohh! mihya—fuckk..!! s-slow do-o-o-o-wnnn!” you whimper. he’s got you in a full nelson position, holding you tightly by your legs to make sure you don’t fall.

“you said you wanted all of my cum tonight, right? that’s exactly what you’re gonna get… m’gonna fill you up nice and deep, yeah?” he laughs a little at your wide eyes, his cock plunging deep in your pussy, his cock kissing your cervix. “shittt—you’re so warm, schatz…”

you can’t even hear half—anything he is saying to you right now. all you can think about is his large cock pounding into your insides since it just feels so good!

“f—fuck, e—engel… gonna cum soon.. you’re gonna take it right?” he groans, thrusting his cock into your pussy once more before releasing his cum in your mouth, some of his cum dripping out of you.

“h-happy birthday, mihya…” you say, on the bed before closing your eyes to rest a little.

[free-slutt]

mdni! ✰

tw: slight smut, swearing, age gap!

sugar daddy!satoru who loves to spoil his “babydoll” with the most latest designer pieces! chrome hearts, chanel, rick owens, birkins. whatever you want he’s gonna get it for you especially when you use that cute little pout that drives him fucking nuts

“satoru please!” you pout your bottom lip every so cutely with those big puppy dog eyes

“whatever you want babydoll”

sugar daddy!satoru who has a habit of sending you money just because. you can be in a bad mood, it’s a family members birthday, a holiday, or a random tuesday. he takes this roll very seriously. it’s more of a power dynamic for him, he loves that he can take control of your life, your bank account, how you treat him.. he loves the advantages that come with as well.

“tell me sweets.. well show me how bad you want that new bag”

oh! he doesn’t have to tell you twice.. there you are on your knees! a slobbering messy delicious sight for sore eyes

one hand of satorus making a sloppy pony while he fucks your mouth with no remorse on how bad it’s hurting you right now

“toru… too much” you mange to mumble against him fully in your mouth, he’s too big you can basically feel him down your throat. thick and curved too. whew…

he’s smirking while his other hand is grabbing onto whatever he can find, a pillow, a blanket.. whatever!

as he shoots his warm salty load into your mouth you can’t help but gag not because he taste bad but you weren’t exactly ready, you try to spit it out but…

“uh uh sweets! swallow my kids f-for me yea? part of the deal honey” as he’s fucking his load back into your mouth forcefully making you swallow it. all.

sugar daddy!satoru as much he doesn’t want to admit he can’t help but feel for you. that’s part of the reason why you guys are in this “relationship” in the first place. when he saw you at the local coffee shop getting yelled at by your boss looking so cute so innocent, he knew he wanted you.. he wanted to show you more to life than whatever you had going on originally. it started off with frequent visits and small compliments to small tips than larger tips, until he finally got your number and well? let’s just say after that he gave you his tip as well!

“o-oh my sweets! taking daddy’s cock so fucking w-well” he groans out gripping the fat of your ass as he pushes your head down to the black silk sheets of his mattress

“g-gonna fuck you t-till you can’t walk!” he looks down at the prettiest sight of your messy pussy wrapping around his cock like it was fighting for its life.. so tight and warm for him.

sugar daddy!satoru who gives you a time limit and a certain amount to spend a week and if you don’t obey and follow his orders you get punished, not any ordinary punishment though! oh he’s gonna ruin you..

as you lay there on his lap skirt pushed up to high pretty pink panties on display smack! satoru gives your pretty ass a nice good spanking…

“toru-ugh-i’m s-sorry! hurtssss” you whine but satoru really doesn’t care what you have to say especially since you didn’t listen to him

“oh? it hurts babydoll?” he chuckles coldly “you know what hurts me? my girl not following orders” smack! satoru will get carried away in the act.. again like i said it’s all about the power dynamic for him! he smirks at how soaked you are he can see it through those stupid pink panties of yours

“guess you can’t really say much anymore since your pretty little pussy is asking for more” he laughs bringing his long finger to rub small but rough circles on your clit.. he’s right your wet! you love it, you want more. “oh.. she’s practically begging for more”

“baby doesn’t know how to spend my money.. do i have to add more?” he asks moving your panties to the side spreading your legs open a little with his free hand while he bring his finger back to you, your mouth. “spit!” he demands and you do what was said.

“that’s my girl” he says teasingly

he brings his wet finger from your saliva down to your pussy entering you with no warning which causes you to whimper and squirm on his lap. he laughs gripping your hips with his free hand “since your moving so much should i take away from your allowance” he asks in such a tone.. a teasing tone.. he wants you to protest he wants you to say something.

“m-more toru!” he smirks at your response “make it clear babydoll, more money or more fingers?” he laughs while adding two more fingers which causes you to moan. loudly!

“gotta stretch this little pussy out for what’s to come later”

sugar daddy! satoru who takes you on vacations monthly. it could be a solo trip, a “couples” vacation or even a girls trip. he doesn’t care he’ll pay for every single damn expense, the rental car, the hotel, or the air bnb. it’s all up to you! he’s constantly checking your bank account to see if your spending the sufficient amount of money.

sugar daddy!satoru who takes you to the mall, doesn’t complain not once at how long he’s been in one store.. it could be hours at the same place he wouldn’t care as long as your doing what your supposed too. as you walk out his arms and hands are filled with bags,bags,bags and you guessed it! more bags! as you smile up at him and thank him for everything. he can’t help but feel such love and care for his pretty like angel

“you love this life huh? such a spoiled brat? might make you my pretty little wife.. stay like this forever”

an: english is not my first language so forgive me for any grammar errors if you have any recommendations/request feel free to submit!

[oscinhaslandito]

could you do some taking care of you on period stories!!

alright so kinda sorta inspired by max and lando's latest stream there wasn't a specific driver request so i chose lando cause the stream was on my mind hope that's okay so yeah anyways enjoy!!!!

(p.s.: he's so adorable in this clip😭)

It had been quite a bit since Lando and Max had streamed from the same room. Finally after weeks of back and forth they stumbled on one date. So, here they both are streaming from Lando's apartment in Monaco, the chat going absolutely feral, seeing them together.

Y/N had been looking forward to a cozy evening while Lando and Max entertained the internet with their usual chaotic stream. She had taken a warm shower, ready to curl up in bed and scroll aimlessly on her phone. But just as she was drying off, she felt the unmistakable cramp and the dreaded realization hit her.

"Oh, for fuck's sake," she muttered, sighing as she reached for her supply of pads.

Now, wrapped in one of Lando’s oversized hoodies, she lay in bed with a heating pad pressed against her stomach. She scrolled through her phone, trying to distract herself from the cramps. She could hear the distant sounds of Lando and Max laughing from the streaming room, their voices slightly muffled by the walls.

Meanwhile, in the other room, Lando and Max were in the middle of a heated debate about who was better at Tarkov.

"Mate, you are so bad at this," Max laughed. "I swear, you run in circles half the time."

"Nah, you're just jealous of my skills," Lando shot back, grinning.

A notification popped up on Lando’s second screen, signaling they had been streaming for a while. “I’m gonna grab a drink. You want anything?” he asked Max, standing up.

Max waved a hand. “Yeah, just get me whatever you’re having.”

Lando nodded, stretching his arms before heading out of the streaming room. As always, before making his way to the kitchen, he took a detour to check on Y/N. It was a habit now—every time he had a moment, he’d sneak in to give her a quick kiss or hug, just because he could.

When he walked in, he immediately noticed her curled up in bed, heating pad pressed against her stomach. His playful smile softened. He knew what that meant.

"Babe, you on your period?" he asked softly, sitting beside her.

Y/N let out a dramatic sigh. "Unfortunately. It’s a nightmare."

Lando leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. "I’ll be right back, okay?", he said exiting the room, leaving the girl confused.

He made his way to the kitchen but instead of grabbing just drinks, he started rummaging through the pantry. He knew Y/N's go-to period snacks: chocolate, some chips, and—oh, he had bought her favorite cookies last week! Score!

When he returned to the streaming room, Max looked up. "Took you long enough—wait, what’s all that?"

Lando placed the drinks on the desk but held onto the snacks. "Y/N’s on her period. We’re ending the stream."

Max blinked before nodding. "Oh. Yeah, fair enough. She needs the comfort package."

Without hesitation, Max turned to their viewers. "Alright, lads, that’s it for tonight. Emergency calls."

The chat flooded with confusion and questions, but they ignored it, quickly shutting everything down. Once everything was offline, Max followed Lando to the bedroom, where Y/N was still curled up.

"Brought you some goodies, love," Lando said, placing the snacks beside her. "And we ended the stream, so now you have our full attention."

Max flopped onto the bed dramatically. "I’m here for moral support."

Y/N laughed softly, shaking her head. "You guys really didn’t have to end your stream."

"Nah, you’re more important," Lando said without hesitation, climbing into bed beside her.

Max smirked. "He’s so whipped."

"Shut up," Lando muttered, wrapping his arms around Y/N. "Let me cuddle my girlfriend in peace."

Max, shaking his head, let out a small chuckle at his best friend. "Alright, alright, I'll leave you two to it. Take care."

Y/N smiled softly. "Thanks, Max. And sorry you had to end your stream because of me."

Max scoffed, waving a hand dismissively. "Nah, I was getting tired of your whiny boyfriend anyway."

Lando gave Max an unimpressed look while Y/N burst into laughter, making Lando pout. "Wow, the betrayal."

Max grinned, backing away towards the door. "Get used to it, mate. See you in the morning—if you survive the clinginess."

With that, he slipped out, leaving Lando and Y/N wrapped up in each other, completely content.

As soon as the door shut, Lando tightened his arms around Y/N, burying his face into her neck. "Finally, alone time."

Y/N giggled, turning slightly to nuzzle against his curls. "You’re so dramatic."

"Shhh," he mumbled. "Let me be clingy."

She smiled, running her fingers through his hair, massaging his scalp lightly. He let out a hum of approval, his whole body relaxing against hers. "You're literally the best boyfriend ever, you know that?"

Lando lifted his head, grinning sleepily. "Say it again."

Y/N rolled her eyes playfully but complied. "Best boyfriend ever."

He kissed her cheek, then her nose, then her forehead. "I love you."

She melted into his embrace. "I love you too. Even when you’re extra."

"Especially when I’m extra," he corrected smugly, pulling the blanket over them. "Now let’s get comfy. Movie? Nap? Or just more cuddles?"

"Mmm, all of the above."

Lando beamed, pulling her even closer. "Perfect."

And just like that, he stayed wrapped around her for the rest of the night, whispering sweet nothings and making sure she was as comfortable as possible. If there was one thing he was sure of, it was that he’d always be there to take care of her—no matter what.

[blue-jisungs]

okay so tae + blanket and I was thinking abt how he slept in an extra hour in the new to do x txt spinoff and then even when he woke up he just sat there for a few mins slowly blinking his eyes open RKJFKSS HES SO CUTE anyway him being clingy in the morning and not wanting to get out of bed :((

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ LAZY DAYS OFF🧸ྀི — sleepy taehyunnie <3 ( wc 585 )

ੈ✩‧₊˚ note ! HIYA ZANNIE ! sorry its so short :( but i hope u like this:(( i also strayed off a lil but but sleepy cozy fluffy tae:((((((((((((((( what if i just cry.

@kstrucknet

the bed is warm and fluffy, like a softest cloud. 

with a quiet groan your fingers look for the edge of the blanket and you pull it over your shoulders, not wanting any warmth to escape. 

this sheer feeling of comfort is enough to lull you back into sleep. 

suddenly, there’s an extra weight on you. not too strong, yet it was enough to crack your eye open.

in an instant you were met with an adorable sight: taehyun’s face squished onto your shoulder, his cheeks puffed slightly. it was his arm that you felt - he threw it across your waist, as if holding a plushie. his dark brown hair was shuffled from all the moving in his sleep, locks long enough to cover his closed eyes. 

despite the cold temperature outside and snow blazing, the warm sunlight peeks through the window, leaving a morning glow on his face. 

you can’t control the way your hand travelled to cup his cheek, causing his lips to pout from the subtle squishing. you just grinned and stared at taehyun’s sleeping face. 

your heart was at ease, seeing him like that. knowing that he’s resting – safely and next to you. it did feel a little strange to have him besides you while waking up, only because you were so used to the hastle and bustle of his busy life. 

you felt his fingers brushing against your side, drawing a giggle from you. 

“what’s so funny…” taehyun mumbled, not caring to open his eyes just yet. 

“you tickled me” you hummed and felt his lips forming into a mischievous smirk under your palm. “don’t even think about it” 

taehyun just fixed his hold and now his fingers wrapped around your side fully, pulling you closer. not knowing from where, his other hand came and landed at the back of your head. now you were fully nuzzled into his chest, your hair tickling his chin. 

“you’re just like a personal teddy bear, you know?” he murmured, voice a bit raspy from slumber. you just scoffed and fixed the blanket, closing your eyes.

“i figured” 

taehyun peeked an eye open and frowned. 

“wait, actually, i don’t like this position…” he sighed and shuffled again, dragging you along. 

“but i was getting cozy…” you whined when for a moment the covers slipped off. the coldness of the room made you shiver dramatically. 

“here we go” he purred with satisfaction, like a cat receiving chin scratches. 

now you were laying on his chest, his hands still glued to you. 

“i can see you a little better. that was what i needed, really” he hummed and brought the blanket over to your neck. 

you sighed softly, turning to his side and wrapping your hand around his torso. throwing your leg on his, you nuzzled even closer. not a single space between your bodies.

“i wish we could stay like this forever” he slurred sleepily and you weren’t sure if he’s not gonna drift away again any second now. 

“who said we have to get up?” you asked quietly. 

taehyun stayed silent, his fingers that were drawing circles on your side slowly stopping. 

“for a moment i forgot i have a day off” he finally answered, a cute giggle leaving his lips. the gesture made his chest shake, leaving you smiling. 

“wake me up when you wake up” you just hummed, fully embracing the coziness of his warmth and layers of blankets. 

“see you in my dreams” taehyun whispered before falling into slumber once again.

m.list <3

taglist. @primoppang ,, @mirxzii ,, @laylasbunbunny ,, @slytherinshua ,, @kazmura

 @nicholasluvbot ,, @ameliesaysshoo ,, @weird-bookworm ,, @mon2sunjinsuver ,, @ocean-minho ,, 

@eternalgyu ,, @haecien ,, @nonononranghaee

[pomefioredove]

May I please have a sugar cookie, #7, with candy cane and sprinkles? 👉👈

certainly (* ^ ω ^)

order #7, sugar with sprinkles, candy cane

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ assertive

summary: after seeing you rebound, he realizes he's not quite over you tropes: exes to lovers, hurt/comfort characters: trey additional info: romantic, gender neutral reader, reader is yuu, short and sweet

"I just don't like the way he's looking at them,"

Cater looks up from his cup, and the foam heart he was trying to snap a pic of melts into his latte.

"You can barely see his face. And you've said that like, three times," the ginger says. "You've barely even touched your mug. It's basically iced coffee now."

Trey finally looks at Cater, his neck sore from craning over his shoulder.

His mug is cold to the touch.

"I'm starting to think you only invited me here 'cause you knew the Prefect was coming. Like, ouch," Cater smiles.

Trey's face flushes red. "What! No, I-I just thought the shop had a good deal today,"

Cater rolls his eyes.

"As much as I love drama, this is lowkey sad," he says. "You need to move on, Trey. It's been months."

Trey knows he's right, which makes his observation hurt even more. He mumbles some poor excuse into his cup of lukewarm coffee, but he can't keep his eyes to himself for long.

"He definitely goes to RSA. I don't trust him," he mutters, eyeing the boy you're with.

"Che'nya goes to RSA, doesn't he?"

"Would you trust Che'nya with your ex?"

"Yeowch. Point taken," Cater smiles, stirring his untouched latte with a dainty spoon. "So, what are you gonna do about it?"

Trey hesitates. He would have loved to just... march over there and steal you away from that pompous bastard...

But he won't.

"Nothing,"

"Pfft," Cater snorts. "You need to be more assertive, man. Otherwise we're just stalking the Prefect. Yeah, that'll impress them."

"It's not about that!! And it's not stalking!"

Cater rolls his eyes and returns to his phone, the uninvited third wheel of every outing with him.

Still, his words bother Trey. That was the problem, wasn't it? He just wasn't... assertive.

He didn't take your side, or stand up for you. He wasn't there when you needed him most, the fool. That's why you dumped him.

If assertive is what you want...

Trey stands, surprising Cater to the point of putting his phone away, and he marches across the coffee shop, brow furrowed, arms firmly at his side. The RSA boy you're with sees him first, and then you.

"Trey? What are you-"

"You," he says, pointing right at the white-uniform wearing, silver-spoon sucking little bastard.

Your jaw drops. The boys' eyes widen (does he look familiar or what?) Cater pushes his chair out, as if preparing to intervene.

Trey takes a deep breath.

"You... you treat them right, do you hear me? Prefect is the sweetest person I know, and they deserve someone just as perfect! Listen to them, okay? Be the person they can rely on, they can trust... the person I- that I wasn't. Just- you'd better be a good boyfriend, or I'll make you regret it, alright?!"

Cater sits back down. Both you and the boy you're with seem to soften, more confused than concerned now.

Trey turns and marches back to his seat. "Let's go,"

The ginger grins and looks behind him. Trey follows his gaze, and it's... you.

"Did you follow me?" you demand. His face goes bright red.

"Uh... um, I... yes. But I only wanted to make sure you were okay. That's... all I've ever wanted,"

Cater gives him a double thumbs-up. You frown, and he mutters a quick "I'll go wait outside" before darting out the door. Trey's blush darkens to crimson.

"Listen, I'm really sorry I interrupted your date. I just wanted to make sure you were being taken care of, and-"

"Trey," you stop him. "I'm not on a date. And that's not my boyfriend."

Huh.

...What?

"Oh?"

You sigh, gesturing between the two. "Trey, Neige. Neige, Trey," and you lower your voice. "I'm here on Vil's behalf. Some movie thing."

Ohh. That makes sense. Trey's face only gets redder, if possible, and he clears his throat. "...My mistake,"

Your frown softens, and you sigh.

"You couldn't have known... and... thanks for worrying about me, I guess. Maybe next time we can talk in private?"

Next time. Trey's heart flutters at the promise, if he dare call it that, and he nods.

"A-ah, of course. Next time,"

[rafesbuzzcutseason]

chasing city lights

chapter 11 - flatline

synopsis: you move to new york to start fresh, hoping to find comfort in the city’s atmosphere. that’s when you meet sarah cameron, where she takes you to a concert and you catch sight of the lead band member, rafe cameron. it only takes a moment for you to realize you’re captivated by him. as sarah helps you navigate your new life in the city, you start to get pulled deeper into rafe's world—the music, the fame, the chaos. the more you get to know him, the more you realise that rafe is not just the rock star he seems to be. he’s wrestling with his own demons, and the last thing he needs is someone like you getting close.

masterlist

cw: language

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ ☾. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

after your day with rafe yesterday, the girls had so many questions and you told them everything, down to the song he wrote for you. what you didn't expect however, was that the song was going to be released in a few days time.

"i genuinely can't believe this," sarah started, "i mean him opening up to you? the commincation? the song? where is rafe and what have you done with him." she giggled.

"no y/n i don't think you understand the extent of this. like we've all been friends with rafe for a good 6 years, and i have never seen a girl have this affect on him before."

"guys stop you're making me think i'm some kind of miracle." you laughed with them.

"that's because you are a miracle." cleo joined in.

"so do you think you'll become official soon...?" sarah questioned.

"i don't know, the fans already think we are." you stated.

"the fans are fucking crazy. you'll get used to that i promise. when me and pope started dating everyone went bonkers over it." cleo reassured you.

"i guess so, it's okay i don't mind it, it's just getting used to seeing my face whenever i open twitter." you said. "whatever, we've got a flight to catch." you all finished your last minute packing and made your way into the car that was waiting for you outside the hotel.

part of you was sad to be leaving the state you had made so many memories in, but you knew heading back to new york all together was just the beginning for this new chapter for you and rafe.

once you made it to the airport, you found the rest of the boys who had left earlier as they all entered 'dad mode' and were getting stressed, john b to blame for that.

"finally you're here!" john b began as he saw you walk through the door.

"yeah thought we were gonna have to leave without you." pope said sarcastically.

"enough. we're here now aren't we?" cleo said rhetorically.

"yes ma'am" jj joined in, everyone was in agreement that cleo was the boss of the group.

you made your way to say hi to topper, who was slowly starting to become his usual self again, you assumed him and rafe had a conversation to try and clear the air.

but you eventually made it to rafe, who looked like his was patiently waiting his turn to get your attention, "hey you" he said.

"hey" you replied with a slight blush, "i didn't know you were actually going to release the song." you rushed out.

a look of concern took over him, "do you mind?" he asked worriedly.

"no! no i'm happy" you started, "but the fans are a little crazy."

"yeah i know they are and i should've warned you about that, but the best ones mean no harm and all you can try and do is ignore them." he replied.

"hard to ignore them when they're commenting on everything i post." you quietly said.

"i can say something if it really bothers you, okay?" he softly reached out to give your hand a squeeze.

"okay" you smiled at him, always putting you at ease.

"ok love birds pack it in," jj hollered "i don't think this plane is going to wait for us."

"whatever dude" rafe grinned, "ready?" he turned to you.

"ready."

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ ☾. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

a/n: sorry guys i made this chapter a lot more smau, just as i had the idea to do the thread (which took me ages LAWD) and also wanted to get the song mentioned ! 5 points to anyone who knows the actual song and band🙈

taglist: @hoefordrewstarkey @marleymarleymarleymarley @bee-43 @cherryhoneybabe @skye-44 @drewrry @drewrry  @yesterdaysproblemm @pogueprincesa @dylsdaily @rafeysworldim19 @valyrianflower @kaiparkerwifes @judesgfirl @4urvalidation @chillgal135 @drewstarkeyslover @yesshewrites1@amterasuu@babykhloutofthisworld @blushmimi  @moonywhisp3rs @rafeysworldim19 @marleymarleymarleymarley@sabrina-carpenter-stan-account@vcnillafairy @bambii1i @sammyrenae68 @popou61

[marianasbored]

Hiii, it’s me!! Can you write a fanfic with pervy!Gihun x chubby!reader >.<

OH YES 😻

I JUST KNOW HE LOVES CHUBBY GIRLIES 😻😻

Perfect ••• pervy!Gi-hun x chubby!Reader

Warnings: idk how long a fanfic is supposed to be tbh 😭, I tried my best since I’m not a chubby girl myself! Gi-huns obsessed with your body, dom gi-hun, ass slapping, unprotected p n v, creampie, overstim, use of “slut”, not proofread (Ruh roh)

୭ 🧷 ✧ ˚. ᵎᵎ 🩰 ྀིྀི

Gi-hun had a bruising grip on your hips as he thrusted in and out of your leaking pussy from behind. The bed was creaking as the sound of both your moans mixed together

He was going at a desperate pace, ignoring your cries that you couldn’t take him

“Shh shh..” he tried hushing you, panting as he spoke, “I know I’m sorry baby I just can’t help myself.. you’re just too perfect..”

You can’t respond, too busy moaning and drooling into your pillow

He chuckled at your inability to speak “that’s my good slut..” he groans, slapping your ass

“Mmn you’re just too perfect..” he repeats “god, look at you..” he started groping your ass, listening to the whines you made “fuck..look at this ass..” he groans

“D-daddy.. please..!” You moan

“Aw please what, princess?” He intentionally angled his hips a certain way to abuse that spot inside you that makes you shake

“T-Too much!! Gonna cum..!” You whimper and moan, trembling as his hand goes down to rub your pretty clit

“Aww you can do it..cum for me baby..” He said with a grin. And before you knew it, you were coming on his cock

“That’s my good slut..” he groaned, but he didn’t stop rubbing you, and he didn’t stop thrusting in you at that mean pace… :(

“W-wait p-please..!” You cried

“I can’t stop now..” he moans, “I still need to cum baby, remember?..fuck..gonna cum so deep in this pussy..”

His movements were relentless, and before you knew it, you were coming again !! >.<

He was doing it on purpose.. just so he could feel you shake, just so he could hear your moans get louder, just so he could feel your pussy convulse around his big dick.. so mean.. so pervy !! :(

“Aww you came again already?” He teased, hearing you whine and whimper in response.

“Haah fuck..” he moaned, releasing his cum into your tight pussy

He slowly thrusted into you a couple more times before pulling out, watching his cum drip out of you before shoving two fingers inside of you, making sure you don’t waste his cum >.<

“Fuck..” he groans at the sight “you did so good for me baby..so fucking perfect..” he kissed your stretch marks

୭ 🧷 ✧ ˚. ᵎᵎ 🩰 ྀིྀི

Sorry it took so long !!