#before i start pulling out the texting videos

[anghimalaaynasapuso]

DISCORD BOYFRIEND KÖNIG

sfw + nsfw. this is just an amalgamation of all my ideas

könig has never been one for putting his face on social media. even before the scars that pull at the skin of his cheek, reshaping his expression in ways he’s never fully grown used to, the idea of being seen, really seen, has never sat right with him. there’s a certain comfort in anonymity, in keeping the world at arm’s length. easier that way. safer.

that unease, paired with what some might consider his more nerdy interests, means he gravitates toward spaces like discord rather than the highly curated feeds of instagram or facebook. there, he doesn’t have to worry about photos or videos— just a username, and a presence in text.

his handle is simple: king 👑. a nod to the name he’s carried for so long, stripped of rank, stripped of weight.

even in the server where he’s most active, he keeps things vague, blending into discussions about games, military history, or whatever niche interest has caught his attention that week.

every now and then, he’ll let something slip— a mention of deployment, an offhand comment, disappearing for months at a time, only to return with a sudden burst of activity. some put the pieces together. most don’t. and könig prefers it that way. it’s easier to let them think he’s just another guy with spotty internet.

your first interaction is rather simple in retrospect.

he’s back after weeks of recon, shaking off the mission like dirt from his boots, easing into the familiarity of a gaming server he’s called home for years.

it’s not a small server, so new people come and go. he does his usual routine— an automated, slightly impersonal welcome but what he doesn’t expect is the sheer enthusiasm in return.

“hi!!!!”

he stares at the message for a second, counting the exclamation marks. three. four. five? a small smile tugs at his lips before he even realizes it.

it doesn’t take long before you’re at his metaphorical side, sending a friend request before the conversation even shifts from your college courses.

the older members tease him. something about his last deployment scrambling his head enough to take a newbie under his wing. he lets them talk. he doesn’t mind.

soon enough, you’re in his private messages, dramatically lamenting your latest loss in a game he’s only vaguely familiar with. könig listens— well, reads— as you rant, words spilling out at a rapid-fire pace, interspersed with keyboard smashing and increasingly incoherent frustration.

he’s not much for new releases, preferring to sink his teeth into a single game for months on end, grinding away until mastery is muscle memory. still-

one evening, without preamble, he sends you a link. his profile. in your game.

the response is immediate. ‘king!!! 🥺’ you type, followed by an onslaught of keyboard mashing that takes up half his screen.

he exhales a short laugh, shaking his head. he wonders if you know how easy it is to make him grin like an idiot.

the calls are… an unexpected development.

könig doesn’t make a habit to join server calls. ever. it’s not even about anxiety, not really, just preference. too many voices, too much noise. he never expected to be comfortable enough with anyone to want to be in a call, let alone initiate one.

but when you start gaming together, it becomes a necessity. typing mid-match isn’t exactly efficient, and you’re the first to point that out.

“okay, listen, king, i am not about to lose another ranked match just because you take five years to type ‘behind you.’” he huffs, amused, but relents.

soon enough, calls become second nature— no longer tied to gaming, no longer requiring an excuse. you always ask first, polite thing that you are, and könig always agrees. sometimes it’s an unspoken invitation, a simple “call?” sent in the quiet hours of the night. sometimes he beats you to it, pressing the button before he can think too hard about it.

one time, it’s you who calls. he answers on the first ring.

“are you- wait.” you pause, listening. there’s a distinct, rhythmic thud-thud-thud in the background. not footsteps, but something heavier, more controlled. “are you on a treadmill?”

“mm.” his voice is steady, unaffected. a quiet confirmation.

you gasp, and he can practically hear the amusement brewing in your tone. “oh my god! you actually work out? i thought you were lying.”

he snorts, breath hitching slightly as he adjusts his pace. “why would i lie about that?”

“i don’t know! you just- i mean, you sit at your desk all day, playing the same game for hours, and you’re always online at weird times-”

“you are describing yourself,” he points out.

“shut up.”

there’s a pause, and then, with the kind of mischief that only comes from knowing exactly how to push his buttons, you add, “prove it.”

he slows to a walk, swiping open his phone. a moment later, you receive a picture. him, flexing. the lighting is dim, but you can still make out the cut of his forearm, the solid shape of his bicep. just to humor you, he throws up a peace sign.

“not stolen from pinterest.”

you burst into laughter so sudden and bright that he finds himself smiling before he can stop it.

you learn what it means to miss könig pretty early on.

it happens suddenly. one day, he’s there, active as usual, sending the occasional meme, idling in voice chat even if he’s not talking. the next? radio silence. not even a ‘typing…’ indicator.

at first, you don’t think much of it. maybe he’s sleeping in. maybe he’s busy. time zones are weird. it’s fine.

but then a whole day passes. then another. you check his status— nothing. not offline, not do not disturb, just… gone.

curiosity turns into concern, and before you can think better of it, you ask in the server.

“hey, anyone heard from king?”

the response is casual. unbothered. “oh, dude’s probably deployed again.”

you blink. reread the message. “deployed?”

“yeah, king’s military.”

there’s no warning for the way that statement knocks the air from your lungs.

military? as in, real-life combat? as in, war zones and danger and actual life-or-death situations?

you stare at the screen, fingers hovering over the keyboard, unsure what to even say to that.

he doesn’t resurface for weeks.

you don’t realize how much you’ve come to rely on his presence until it’s gone. his absence is loud in the quiet moments of your day, in the spaces where a message from him would normally be.

you check the server out of habit, catching yourself before you can search his username. it’s stupid, you think. you barely know him. he’s just some guy from a discord server.

but the worry lingers.

and then, one day, just like that— he’s back.

his return is as unceremonious as his disappearance.

no dramatic entrance, no fanfare. just a simple “hello.”

you see it the moment he sends it. your stomach flips.

before you can stop yourself, you send a private message. “you’re alive.”

a moment passes. then— “yes.”

you frown. “you were gone for weeks.”

“i know.”

frustration bubbles up. “you could’ve said something.”

“i couldn’t.”

you hesitate, fingers tightening around your phone. you don’t know what you were expecting. an explanation? reassurance? but it’s clear you’re not getting one.

but then, a follow-up message. one that feels heavier, more careful. “i’m sorry.”

and just like that, the irritation dissolves.

it’s strange, the way things slip back into place after that.

he doesn’t talk about it, and you don’t ask. but something shifts. after that deployment, könig starts telling you when he’ll be gone. nothing in detail, really. just a simple, “i’ll be away for a bit.”

(it means everything.)

slowly, you get used to it. the rhythm of his presence and absence, the way your conversations pick up right where they left off, as if no time has passed at all.

it goes on for months. this… thing between the two of you. könig doesn’t hesitate to call it friendship, though he knows, knows, it’s something else entirely.

something with edges softer than companionship, something that lingers in the pauses between conversation, in the way you had whispered his real name under your breath when he revealed it to you.

he doesn’t rush to name it. doesn’t push. he lets it simmer until it feels inevitable.

in the end, it’s you who breaks first. technically. not that he’s keeping score. not that he would ever rub it in your face, especially when he was a mere day away from asking the very same thing.

it starts with a message. no preamble, no buildup. just a simple: hey, what are we?

könig sees it and reacts before thinking. presses the call button so fast his thumb practically smashes the screen. it rings once, twice—

“you didn’t even ask.” your voice comes through, half exasperated, half amused.

“didn’t want to give you time to unsend.” his own voice is steady, but his heart is anything but.

you huff. “bold assumption.”

“not really.”

a pause. he hears you shift, fabric rustling, the sound of you settling in. something warm and slow uncoils in his chest at the familiarity of it.

“so,” you start, hesitant. “what’s your answer?”

könig exhales, tipping his head back against his pillow. “do you want the truth?”

“obviously.”

he hums, considering. in reality, he’s known the truth for a while now. probably before you even realized it yourself.

“i like you,” he says, simple, sure. then, because he knows you, because he knows your deflections, your habit of teasing when you get nervous, he adds, “and i’m very aware you like me back.”

you sputter. “that’s a bold assumption-”

“not really,” he repeats, smug this time.

you groan, but you’re laughing, and it sends something bright flickering through him.

könig doesn’t ask for nudes. not once. he flirts, he teases, but never pushes. he knows your boundaries, respects them, never even hints at wanting more. if anything, he’s careful. too careful, sometimes. like he’s afraid of crossing a line you haven’t even drawn.

so when you finally send something, it’s your choice.

the first picture is tame. barely anything. it's a shot of your thighs, soft and warm in the low light of your room. nothing scandalous. nothing too revealing. but the second you hit send, your stomach twists with nerves.

könig sees it immediately. you watch the typing bubble appear, disappear, then appear again. and then— “fuck.”

you grin. “good?”

“you have no idea.”

it only escalates from there.

könig never requests more. but when you send it, when you want to send it, his reaction is worth it. he worships you through the screen, tells you how beautiful you are, how much he wishes he could touch you.

“pretty,” he texts once, attached to a voice message.

you press play. his breath is ragged, like he’s just run a mile. “pretty thing,” he repeats, voice tinged with something almost reverent. “you’re going to ruin me, love.”

the first time he sends you something, it takes him forever to work up to it.

you don’t ask for it. wouldn’t dream of pushing him into something he’s not comfortable with. könig isn’t shy, necessarily, but he’s private. you know that by now.

so when, out of nowhere, a picture pops up on your screen, your brain short-circuits.

it’s cropped carefully, but there’s no mistaking what you’re looking at— bare skin, broad shoulders, his stomach flexed just slightly.

“you like?” he texts after a minute.

you swallow hard. “yes.”

“good.” and then— “more?”

you bite your lip. “please.”

könig gets bolder after that.

he sends more. never too much, always teasing, always just enough to leave you wanting. sometimes it’s his hands, sometimes it’s his abs, the sharp cut of his hip bones, the waistband of his sweatpants hanging just low enough to make your mouth water.

one night, he sends a voice message instead. you press play.

at first, all you hear is his breathing. then, slowly, softly— your name, whispered through a noise that makes heat bloom low in your stomach.

“wish you were here,” he murmurs. “wish you could see what you do to me.”

the actual nudes don’t take long. not ar all. you’re both desperate. buzzing. könig’s the one who caves first.

it starts with your text. 10 p.m., the hour where inhibitions slip through grasping fingers like sand.

“wanna see your cock so bad, könig…” you murmur to your propped phone, cheek pressed to your pillow, another one stuffed against your chest like it might replace the hollow ache between your ribs. a distraction. a poor substitute.

on the other side of the screen, he exhales, dragging a hand down his face. fingers tensing, then flexing, like he needs something to hold onto. “love-” your whine cuts through before he can even think. instinctive. needy. his stomach clenches. “okay, okay. as long as you're sure.”

his heart pounds as he opens his photos. he doesn’t exactly collect dick pics, but there are a few kept locked away, private albums, a passcode he suddenly fumbles to enter.

three minutes. that’s how long it takes to choose the best one. the right angle. the right lighting. enough to make your breath hitch when you see it.

he hits send before he can overthink it, then leans back, phone balanced on his thigh, bottom lip caught between his teeth.

your phone buzzes. the photo pops up. you blink, breath hitching sharp in your throat.

“oh my god.” the words spill out of you before you can even think to stop them. “könig…” you stare at the screen, gaze locked on the thick, heavy length of him. the way it curves slightly, resting against his thigh like it’s weighed down by its own sheer mass. your breath stutters.

“you're so fucking big.” it barely registers that you've said it aloud.

“yeah? you like it?

“like it?” you shoot back. “i want it inside me.”

his breath leaves him in one harsh exhale. he shifts, hips rolling involuntarily like he can feel your words on his skin.

“can i see you too?” he sounds so polite. and then, as if that wasn’t enough to twist the knife deeper— “please?”

your stomach flips. you bite your lip, already reaching for your phone camera, the need to show him everything burning through you like wildfire.

your breath comes shallow as you slip your hand lower, phone steady in the other. the need is a pulse under your skin, throbbing, insistent. you pull the covers back just enough, the cool air prickling against the heat between your thighs.

the camera catches everything. your slightly parted thighs, your swollen clit, the wetness gushing out of your hole. it feels like baring a secret you’ve never told anyone. you hesitate for half a second, heart racing, then hit send.

the second the message disappears from your screen, it hits you— you just sent that to him.

on his end, könig freezes. the photo loads slow, torturous, and when it finally pops up, he feels his whole body tense, blood rushing south so fast it’s dizzying. “f-fuck, i need to be inside of you-”

sex with könig, if you can even call it that, at first, sneaks up on you. you never thought you’d be the kind of person who got into this. sending texts that made your face burn, leaving voice messages you could barely listen back to without cringing. but with him, it’s different. easier. less embarrassing because it’s him.

still, going from nudes to actual phone sex takes some time.

“gonna sleep,” könig texts you once, attached to a blurry photo of his bed.

“alone?” you send back, teasing.

the typing bubble appears. then disappears. then— “obviously.”

you grin at your phone, satisfied. but then— “but i could use some company.”

you stare at the message longer than you’d like to admit.

didn't tell him that you had woken up panting, arousal between your thighs, könig’s name on your lips too many times. didn't tell him that you had pressed your hand against your clit during your calls, to the sound of his voice, to his laugh, to the quiet, wrecked groans he sometimes lets out when he stretches after a workout.

in the past, you hadn't told him how many times you’d dreamt of him because you thought you'd scare him off, kept your mouth shut about the images that haunted you at night, of his hands pinning you down, his mouth at your throat.

but you wanted to.

and tonight, you would.

the conversation turns slow. lazy. heavy with something unspoken.

“you sound tired,” könig murmurs, voice warm. he’s always like this late at night. soft, unhurried, like he’s sinking into the sound of you.

you swallow hard. your skin feels too hot, too tight. “i’m not.”

a pause. then, lower— “what is it, love?”

you hesitate, pressing your lips together. it’s too much. too embarrassing. but he knows something is different.

“talk to me. tell me what you’re thinking.”

you let out a shaky breath. “i had a dream about you.”

the silence stretches.

you can hear him inhale. you bite your lip. force yourself to continue. “i think about you. when i-” you stop. you can’t say it. can’t admit it.

könig exhales through his nose, like he’s trying to steady himself. “when you what?”

your stomach is a knot of nerves. but you want this. want him. so you take a breath, close your eyes. “when i touch myself.”

his breath stutters.

“fuck.” the word is almost a groan. your pulse hammers, blood rushing through your ear as heat pools in your stomach.

“könig,” you whisper.

he exhales, whispers his next words like a beg, “say it again.”

you swallow. “i touch myself to you.”

“i do too.”

your stomach flips. “what?”

“i-” he cuts himself off with a quiet curse, like he's frustrated with himself for hesitating. “i touch myself to you too.”

your breath catches. heat blooms in your chest, spreading down your spine. “könig-”

“all the time.” his voice is lower now, raw, like he's aching with it. “when i can't sleep. when you're on call with me, laughing, teasing me. when i wake up hard in the middle of the night and can’t stop thinking about stuffing you full.”

your body is burning again, despite the aftershocks still rolling through you. you're about to choke out a reply when you hear it— the rustle of fabric, the faint creak of bedsprings, the wet slide of skin on skin.

“are you-”

a sharp inhale. “yes.”

“let me hear you,” you whisper, thinking about his pretty, pretty cock. uncut, soft skin stretched over the flushed head, the way it would slide back when he’s fully hard, revealing the deep pink of his leaking tip. the veins that wind down the length, standing out against the pale skin

there's a pause, a hitch in his breath. then, slowly— “okay.”

there's a small rustle, könig adjusting himself on the bed. the faint sound of him pumping lotion on his hand. a quiet sigh. and then, a low grunt as the warmth of his palm wraps around his cock.

könig looks down at his hand, eyes half-lidded, hips bucking up in small thrusts. he imagines your pussy instead of his fist, hot and tight and so fucking warm, fluttering around his length as he pushes in, spearing you open with a cock too big for your little cunny.

he knows you’d cry for him, little gasps and hiccupped moans, squirming beneath him as he bullies his cock deeper, past that tight ring of muscle into the slick, warm clutch of your cunt.

“a-ah- fuck, ah-”

your breath stutters at the sounds, hips grinding against your palm. “wish i could see you.”

“on cam?”

you groan, squeezing your thighs around the pillow in-between your legs, grinding your clit against the material softly. “yes, please..”

fuck, you're so polite.

[coryndoll]

authors note: broken up with so i made THIS its 3am please

is it okay to want your ex to be the person beside you when you wake up from a dream about them, even when you know you’re supposed to be moving on?

because if it’s not, then you’re already doing this all wrong.

you wake up too suddenly, almost like your own body betrayed you, forcing you out of something you weren’t ready to leave behind. your eyes snap open, heart hammering, the kind of startled wake-up that leaves you disoriented for a moment, stuck between dream and reality.

you lift your head, blinking against the dark, and look down at the sheets pooled around your waist, then slowly, like maybe you already know what you’ll find, you glance toward the other side of the bed.

empty.

your stomach sinks, but you tell yourself that’s stupid. of course it’s empty. why wouldn’t it be?

but it doesn’t matter what your head knows. it’s what your heart feels that always screws you up, because for one blissful, delirious second, you expected him to be there. warmth beside you, an arm draped across your waist, his steady breathing pulling you back under.

but that was the dream.

and god, what a cruel dream.

you don’t even know if you were just friends or something more in it, if you’d crossed back over that invisible line or if you were still dancing around it, but what you do know is how it felt. how you felt. that dizzy kind of giddiness, the way your stomach flipped with every glance, every touch, every little moment of something unspoken but understood. it felt like starting over, like all the space between you had been erased, like maybe you could still have him.

and then you woke up.

you swallow hard and let your head fall back against the pillow, eyes squeezing shut. you shouldn’t be dreaming about him. you shouldn’t be feeling like this.

you’re supposed to be getting over him.

but now it’s four in the morning, and you’re wide awake with a lingering ache in your chest, a knot in your stomach, and a dream you can’t shake no matter how much you tell yourself it doesn’t mean anything.

you try to sleep again. you roll over, adjust the blankets, close your eyes, and breathe deep like you read somewhere that might help, but it doesn’t. so you grab your phone from the nightstand and scroll through tiktok, letting the mindless flood of videos wash over you, but none of them make you laugh, none of them distract you the way you want them to. the flashes of what you remember come every now and then.

you think about making food, something small, because eating always makes you sleepy. but that feels like too much effort, and the last thing you want is to be alone with your thoughts in the kitchen, staring at the clock and counting the hours until you have to pretend like you’re fine.

so you give up and swipe through your notifications instead, clearing some out, replying to a text from your mom, letting the dull routine of it settle you.

but then you see his name, just sitting there in your recents like it belongs, like it hasn’t been haunting you since the breakup.

your thumb hesitates over the screen, and that’s all it takes. the thought is already there, already burrowing into your brain like an instinct you can’t fight.

you shouldn’t. you know you shouldn’t.

are you on non-speaking terms for now?

is it safe to send just one text?

but the dream is still fresh, still clinging to you like secondhand smoke, and every fiber of your being is screaming at you to just reach out. just once. just this one time.

before you can talk yourself out of it, before you can convince yourself to be strong, you tap his name and press the call button.

you sit up slowly, pressing your phone to your ear, and listen to the dial tone.

one ring.

two.

three.

your stomach twists. this was a mistake. he’s sleeping. maybe he has his ringer on and you’re waking him up. shame on you. you should hang up. you should—

then a noise. a shift.

your breath catches, your heart lurches.

you pull the phone away, staring at the screen, frozen in panic. maybe it was nothing. maybe he just moved in his sleep. maybe he won’t even remember this in the morning—

“hello?”

his voice is groggy, rough around the edges like he hasn’t fully woken up yet. like he doesn’t know who’s calling him at this hour.

and holy shit, you almost hang up right then. almost.

but something in you makes you lift the phone back to your ear, makes you swallow the lump in your throat, makes you whisper, “hello?”

there’s a pause, like maybe he’s still caught somewhere between sleep and reality. you hear the shift of fabric, the rustling of blankets as he moves, like he’s rolling onto his back, maybe rubbing at his face, trying to shake off the haze of sleep.

and then, recognition. “y/n— hey? why are you up?”

your lips part, but for a moment, nothing comes out.

because what are you supposed to say? that you woke up from a dream about him, and it felt so real that for half a second, you thought he’d actually been there? that it left you feeling warm and whole and painfully desperate to hold onto something that isn’t even yours anymore? that the idea of moving on feels impossible when your subconscious won’t even let you pretend you’re over it?

you swallow, forcing yourself to say something, anything, before the silence stretches too long.

“i couldn’t sleep,” you whisper, and before the guilt can settle too deep in your chest, you add, “sorry if i woke you.”

on the other end, you hear him shift again. there’s a faint rustling, the kind that makes you picture him shaking his head, before he murmurs, “you didn’t.”

you let out a small breath, a quiet scoff, something close to a laugh but not quite. “yeah?” your voice is just a little teasing, just a little skeptical. “you sound like it.”

for a second, there’s nothing. then he chuckles.

soft and low, the kind of laugh that makes your stomach twist, that makes you feel like you’ve caught him in a lie. and you have, obviously. you know his voice too well, you can hear the exhaustion in it, the roughness in his throat. you know he was asleep. but he’s trying to make you feel better about it, trying to brush it off like it doesn’t matter.

it’s nothing. it’s barely anything.

but it’s enough to make you slip.

you press your lips together, fingers tightening around your phone. because for a second, just a second, it feels normal again. like you can still call him in the middle of the night just because, like you can hear his sleepy laugh and joke about it, like you haven’t lost this part of him.

but then reality catches up.

your stomach sinks, the warmth in your chest cooling into something heavier, something bitter. your smile fades, and you shift, pressing your forehead against your knee, closing your eyes.

you shouldn’t be doing this. you shouldn’t be letting yourself fall back into something you know isn’t yours anymore.

but you force yourself to get to the point.

“would it be stupid if i asked you to come over?” you murmur, barely louder than a breath, barely brave enough to ask, but desperate enough to say it anyway.

the second the words leave your mouth, you regret them. the silence is immediate. so much silence that it makes your stomach twist, makes your pulse spike, makes you feel like you should just end the call right now and save yourself from whatever is about to happen next.

you pull your phone away for a second, checking to see if the call is even still connected.

“y/n.”

it’s soft, but the weight behind it is heavy. there’s something careful in the way he says your name, something almost hesitant, like he’s reminding you of something neither of you want to say out loud.

you know what he’s about to tell you. that there’s a reason you aren’t in each other’s beds anymore. there’s a reason you aren’t supposed to be doing this. and suddenly, panic sets in.

“nevermind,” you rush out, shaking your head at yourself like he can see you. “that was— i shouldn’t have asked. i just— i’m tired. i’m sorry i woke you, i’ll let you go. goodnight—"

“stop.” his voice is firm, cutting through your words before you can finish. you freeze, fingers curling into the fabric of your blanket, breath hitching, and you wait. you don’t say anything.

then, more shuffling on his end. you strain to listen, and then it hits you. he’s moving. getting out of bed.

“yeah,” he exhales, voice still thick with exhaustion, but steady now. certain. “i’ll be there.”

there’s a pause, the quiet hum of the phone line stretching between you both. you can still hear him moving; maybe grabbing his keys, maybe slipping on a hoodie. the thought alone makes your stomach flip. then, his voice, softer this time. careful. “do you need anything else?”

the question is simple, but there’s something about the way he asks it that makes you hesitate. like he’s offering you something more than just his presence. like if you asked for it, he’d give you anything. but you’re already pushing it. you know that.

so you shake your head, pressing your lips together before making a small sound of refusal, “mm-mm.”

on the other end, drew exhales, barely audible, and when he speaks again, it’s quiet. steady. “alright,” and then the call ends.

you lower your phone from your ear, staring at the screen as the seconds of silence stretch on, until the brightness fades and leaves you staring at your own faint reflection.

your teeth sink into your bottom lip, eyes flickering toward your dresser, but you’re not really seeing it. your mind is running too fast, thoughts spiraling, pulling you in two different directions.

there’s an uneasy feeling settling in your chest, pressing against your ribs. like maybe you shouldn’t have done this. like maybe this is exactly why you and drew shouldn’t be calling each other in the middle of the night anymore. but then, there’s something else. something warmer.

because he agreed. without hesitation too. without a single question. he’s coming over. does that mean something? the thought almost makes you smile. hope.

drew doesn’t live far, thankfully. all that space in los angeles, and yet, somehow, you both ended up just a mile or two apart. it had been convenient back then, when late-night filming ran over, when you were both too tired to do anything but collapse into each other’s arms, when going home meant a five-minute drive instead of a long trek across the city.

it made sense, being close. you’d even talked about closing the distance completely before, like moving out of your separate places and into one together. it wasn’t a serious discussion, more like a fleeting idea thrown out between shared meals and lazy mornings, but it had lingered. but you never put any real time into it. and maybe that was for the best. or maybe it wasn’t.

because if drew can come over now, without question, without hesitation, just because you asked, then what would it have been like if you had actually lived together?

you can’t stop your mind from running with the thought, from spiraling into a thousand different possibilities.

if you had shared a home, would he have stayed in your bed on nights like these, when you couldn’t sleep, when the weight of missing him pressed heavy on your chest? or would he have made himself comfortable in some extra room, always just across the hall, close enough to feel present but far enough to keep a safe distance?

if you had already built a life under the same roof, would he have been the one to move out? or would he have stayed, finding excuses to linger, to keep things from changing too much, to hold on to something that neither of you were sure how to let go of?

or would he have stayed in the same bed, too disciplined to let emotions dictate his choices, too mature to act like sharing a bed meant something more than what it was—just sleep, just comfort, just the two of you existing in the same space like you always had?

because that’s who drew is. realistic, rational, someone who believes in keeping things separate, even if it hurts.

he wouldn’t have been reckless about it. he wouldn’t have let longing turn into excuses or blurred lines. he would have figured out what to do, how to move forward, how to live in the same space while still trying to get over you. he wouldn’t have let himself slip.

but you? you don’t think you’d be able to pretend so easily. because lying next to him, feeling his presence just inches away, knowing it was him but that you weren’t his anymore. it would break you, piece by piece, every single night.

but he’s there soon, riding up the elevator like it’s nothing, like this isn’t something that should feel bigger than it is. like this isn’t something that should be happening at all. ten minutes. that’s all it takes.

when the knock comes, you practically stumble out of bed, feeling unsteady in your own body. you don’t know how to carry yourself, don’t know if you should be composed or apologetic, don’t know if you should even be doing this. but you move anyway, making your way to the door on autopilot, fingers unsteady as they reach for the handle.

when you open it, there he is. hood on, sweats hanging low on his hips, a stupid pair of sandals on his feet like he didn’t think twice about what he was wearing before leaving. like he didn’t care. but his eyes . . . his tired, knowing, impossibly soft eyes, tell you otherwise.

and you feel it then. the guilt. all over again.

it’s humiliating, the way you can’t get over him. the way your chest tightens just from seeing him stand in your doorway. the way he can read it all over your face like it’s written there in bold letters. he exhales, something quiet, something almost affectionate, and then murmurs, “c’mon, angel.”

his voice is low, thick with sleep, and it only makes you feel worse, but you let him in anyway. you step aside, and he moves past you, closing the door behind him, locking it with the ease of muscle memory. it’s dark. the lights are off, nothing illuminating the space except for the soft, golden glow bleeding through the thin curtain covering your balcony door. it’s just enough to see him, to see the way he’s watching you, the way his brows pull together when he sees the wetness brimming in your eyes.

you cover your face with your hands, disappointment settling deep in your stomach. you shouldn’t have called him. you shouldn’t have let him come. you shouldn’t be standing here, crying in front of him like you’re still his to comfort.

but then his arms are around you, wrapping around your shoulders, around your head, pulling you into his chest before you can even think to push him away.

he’s warm.

his scent, familiar, overwhelming, engulfs you instantly. and suddenly, it all feels . . . warm in here. safe. like something you shouldn’t still want. like something you don’t know how to let go of.

and soon you’re back under the sheets, and so is he.

it’s quiet. on purpose.

he sits upright against the headboard, back pressed into the pillows, the fabric of his hoodie bunching slightly where his shoulders meet the wood. you’re not sure where he’s looking, but his gaze is far away, unfocused, lost in thoughts he won’t say out loud.

you don’t try to figure them out. you don’t ask. instead, you just let yourself sink into him, pressing your cheek against his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall beneath you. his warmth seeps into your skin, into the cotton of your sleep shirt, into the spaces between each breath. it feels familiar. dangerously so.

one of your hands stays curled between your bodies, fingers pressing into your own palm like you’re trying to hold something in. the other rests lightly on his abdomen, just for a second, just enough to feel the soft give of fabric over skin. hesitation creeps in, a warning, a reminder, but you ignore it. your fingers trace a barely-there path lower, brushing against his hand.

he doesn’t pull away.

your fingertips graze his knuckles first, featherlight, and then you take his hand completely, slipping your fingers between his, linking them like muscle memory.

he squeezes.

it’s subtle, almost unconscious, but it’s there. his hand is warm, slightly calloused, the way it’s always been. the way it shouldn’t still feel so right.

he exhales slowly, and you hear it more than you see it, feel it more than you acknowledge it. but when you glance up at him, you catch the shift in his face. the slight furrow of his brows. the parting of his lips, like there’s something sitting on his tongue, something he won’t say.

his eyes are trained on nothing. somewhere in the distance. worried. like he knows this is wrong too. but he stays. neither of you move, neither of you loosen your grip.

he reaches over and turns off the bedside lamp, but nothing really changes. the silence lingers. the warmth stays. you both just lay there, tangled in something you shouldn’t be, holding onto something neither of you know how to let go of.

and maybe that just sums you two up as a whole.

[mewhenimanangel]

need that, hamzahthefantastic

—synopsis. mandy invites you to hangout with some of her friends. christmas vlog vid

notes 🫧: guys i need hamzah bad

— 🐞

you sighed with content as you finally landed on an outfit you liked. it was a plain long sleeve with a pair of loose dark wash jeans, you weren’t sure what everyone else would be wearing so you picked something simple.

your phone buzzed, mandy asking if you were on your way to her house. you sent her a voice message as you threw on your coat and grabbed your keys along with your purse and phone.

mandy had invited you over to hang out with her, martin, and hamzah and his friends, who you knew from 4freakshow.

you'd never met chase and claire before, but you've hung out with martin and hamzah a few times with mandy.

you met her when she was in nursing school, becoming friends after a few awkward encounters. she introduced you to martin and after a while you met hamzah, in person at least, since the two of you already followed each other.

you parked your car outside their house and adjusted your lip gloss in the rearview. you were a little nervous for some reason. maybe it was the fact that you were late, maybe it was the new people you were meeting, or maybe it was the vlog.

you have your own youtube channel but being apart of other people's videos always made you feel a little awkward.

you texted mandy that you arrived and headed for the front door, martin opening it before you could knock.

"someone's a little late" martin joked as he let you inside. "oh my god i forgot you guys went bald. that was a freaking jumpscare." you teased.

mandy came up to give you a hug "i know, they look insane. i did not approve." she said  before you were introduced to chase and claire. chase walked up with the camera, focused on you. "hi youtube" you stuck out your tongue.

"now that y/n is finally here, the trio outfit is complete." claire handed you a set of pajamas, matching the ones her and mandy had on. you grinned and complimented the set before hamzah came out from the back hallway.

"oh hey, didn't know you got here already" he dapped you up. "boi yes you did, literally went to the bathroom to fix his hair" claire teased. "oh wait..." chase joined in, making you laugh.

"i don't know why he's got this freaking tuque on anyways. embrace the bald dude, embrace the skin." martin pulled his beanie down and rubbed hamzah's bald head, urging hamzah to push him away.

"yo! he just fucking sniffed me" hamzah laughed, grabbing his beanie from his hand. "we're just cucking the viewers i guess" martin said, leaving everyone just staring at him awkwardly.

"yeah anyways, y/n you could go change in my room" mandy told you. "heh, just be careful what you find in there" martin leaned into a shrug. "dude stop" hamzah flicked his hand over martin's head.

once you were changed, chase made you do a twirl for the camera and you posed before tripping out.

"so how come y/n gets a pajama set, but you said no to me?" martin asked mandy. "cause she's one of the girls and you're not a girl"

"plus nobody told you to wear them freak ass leggings boi" hamzah teased him and you laughed. he looked over at you, taking in the fact that he made you laugh.

hamzah always thought you were really pretty and cool, even back when you first followed each other during the 4freakshow days. you didn't even have a youtube channel back then, only posting random tiktoks he thought were funny.

"alright y'all let's get to baking, i'm hungry" chase said behind the camera before flipping it towards him.

you stood next to hamzah as claire pulled up the recipe on her tiktok and her, mandy, and chase got started on measuring things out.

“you can’t just do it willy nilly style brah, measure it” you told martin as he began pouring sugar into the mix. “sometimes you have to live life on the edge, y/n” martin scoffed.

as you continued baking the cookies, you realized how glad you were that you decided to come. martin and hamzah were always a hoot but you really liked claire and chase too.

“noo it was my legs and he said ‘you’re scratching your ass’” claire defended herself from chase and hamzah’s teasing. “girl no i was right behind you”

“we’re having booty cookies” “we got fucking booty flavor” you and hamzah joked at the same time, causing you to crack up and slap his arm.

you took your hand off, not expecting his bicep to be so strong. he nudged you with his elbow, still laughing.

“so, are you actually gonna help bake, y/n?” chase playfully raised his eyebrow. “right, standing here doing nothing” hamzah added. “oh bitch says you, who’s actually done nothing. mr. nonchalant baldhead.” you joked, grabbing the camera from chase and putting it in hamzah’s face.

“boi get outta here boi” he laughed.

while the cookies baked, you guys moved on to putting up the christmas tree. you sat down with chase and claire and began unfolding the branches of the tree. hamzah followed suit, taking a seat on the floor next to you.

rudy walked up to hamzah, who grabbed him with one hand under his belly and placed him in his lap. “awww rudy, who’s a cutie cootie coo. ah poochy poochy poo” you reached over hamzah’s leg to pet the dog.

you scratched behind his ear, unknowing of hamzah staring at you while you did it. “alright let’s put in some freaking work guys” claire said and hamzah lifted rudy into the couch behind him.

“why do you literally manhandle everything that comes your way?” you teased. “like in the video where you’re flinging around fish” hamzah just chuckled in response.

“wait chase, i like your leggings” claire said from behind the camera. “what these aren’t leggings?”

“i’m just saying i’ve never seen a boy wear leggings, it’s a compliment”

“they’re not leggings, they’re thermals! they’re long johns..long johns?” martin retorted, displaying his leg out in front of the other. “you’re wearing fucking leggings”

you and hamzah stifled your laughs in the corner as they continued and martin teared up, walking off with the camera as a bit. “claire you actually made him cry” you giggled.

you felt hamzah lean himself closer to you, taking advantage of the laughing fit everyone was in.

after a while, the cookies were done as you finished decorating the tree, adding a little christmas bunny along with everyone else’s personalized ornaments.

you turned around to hamzah manspreading on the couch, trying to ignore your thoughts about how sexy it was and followed everyone else into the kitchen.

you all iced the cookies before doing a taste test, “boi crumbl cookie could neverrrr” you joked, as the cookies actually turned out bad. “this shit is way too sweet oh my god” hamzah said, spitting his into the trash. “ew dude have some manners” martin scolded him.

once mandy ended the vlog, you all lounged around her living room until you got a emergency text from your roommate.

“bruh, my roommate messed up something with our dryer. i have to go” you frowned. “awww noooo” chase frowned with you. “it was really nice meeting you” he said. “yeah, you’re funny as fuck” claire added. “oh i love you” you hugged her before getting your coat off the rack.

“im so glad you actually came” mandy said. “well thanks for inviting me” you playfully stuck out your tongue. “i’ll see you next time we hang out in like four to six weeks” you said, sarcastically. “ugh tell me about it” she smiled as you dapped martin.

hamzah came out from the bathroom, “you’re leaving?” he asked. “yeah my roommate needs help” you pressed your lips together. “oh…..it was cool seeing you though” he dapped you up, pulling you into a small hug. “you too” you smiled, holding his hand a little longer before your phone buzzed again.

“anyways merry christmas and happy holidays everyone! byeeeee” you closed the door behind you and head for your car.

lvryn

Liked by hamzahthefantastic and others

lvryn mini dump 💩

user omg is she the reason hamzah was acting so mysterious this video

user yall saw the way they were so close to each other this video

user love your whole life 😍

— 🐞

[lovelyjj]

I have a Rudy request. It’s fluffy, not smutty. The reader is a famous singer and she’s dating Rudy. She has a YouTube channel. One day, she makes a YouTube video of her reading thirst tweets people made about her and Rudy is in the video with her and he’s laughing the whole time.

Thirst Tweets

Rudy Pankow x Reader

The story of how you and Rudy met was cute really. You were both on a plane. You were traveling because you were on tour as a singer. Rudy was traveling for work as he was an actor on the show Outer Banks. You just so happen to sit next to each other on the plane.

Rudy listened to your music so he knew who you were. He always thought you were gorgeous but he figured you were out of his league. You had the window seat and then Rudy sat next to you. Rudy decided he wanted to get to know you so even though he was a little nervous, he went for it.

“Hey, you’re Y/N Y/L/N, right? The famous singer?” Rudy started.

“Oh hi, yeah I am, nice to meet you,” you turned towards him

“I’m Rudy, Rudy Pankow.”

“Hi why are you going to Charleston?” you tried to make good conversation.

“Oh I’m shooting my TV show there. I’m an actor,” Rudy scratched the back of his neck.

“Wow what TV show is it may I ask?”

“It’s called Outer Banks.”

“I’ll have to watch it then,” you winked.

The rest of the conversation flowed naturally. You both had a great flight talking to and getting to know each other. When the flight was over you exchanged numbers and started texting about when you can see each other again. Both your schedules were busy but you made time for one another.

Eventually Rudy asked you out and you’ve been dating ever since. Rudy went to a couple of your shows and you went on the set of outer banks to see them filming in action. You’ve never felt this way with anyone before the way you feel with Rudy. It was like you were destined to be together.

You and Rudy were always doing fun things. You were both nervous to tell the world you were dating, well because, you were both famous. But your fans took it really well. The internet loved you when you finally made it public. It was a big step.

“Ya know I think it’s finally time I introduce you to my youtube channel,” you told Rudy in the living room of your shared apartment.

“You think so?” Rudy responded.

“Yeah my manager sent me an idea. She suggested I read thirst tweets.”

“Thirst tweets? I’d be down to be in it, sounds fun,” Rudy commented.

“Ok let’s do it.”

Your manager sent you a list of thirst tweets so all you had to do was read them. You set up your camera in the living room and Rudy got comfortable. “I’m excited,” you announced.

“This is gonna be fun,” Rudy exclaimed.

You made sure you and Rudy were in frame and hit record. You sat down next to Rudy and pulled out your phone. “Hi guys I’m Y/N and this is my boyfriend Rudy Pankow.” Rudy waved and said hello.

“Today I’m gonna be reading your thirst tweets.”

“Okay first one. Y/N Y/L/N is so fine she can run me over with a truck.” You laughed.

Rudy glanced at the tweet over your shoulder and snickered.

“Thank you I think,” you giggled.

“I mean they are right,” Rudy commented.

“Next this one says I want to get railed by Y/N.”

Rudy laughed loudly. “I don’t know how that would work but okay,” you shrugged.

“This one has a picture of me and it says “raw, next question.”

Rudy busted out laughing. “That one is my favorite so far,” Rudy admitted.

“Okay okay here’s another one, Can we talk about how gorgeous Y/N Y/L/N is? She is fucking beautiful.”

“I agree,” Rudy commented.

“Want Y/N Y/L/N to spit in my mouth!” you read the tweet.

“Oh god,” Rudy laughed.

“Alright let’s keep going. Y/N Y/L/N is mother,” you read another.

“Mother?” Rudy questioned with a laugh.

“I’m flattered,” you smiled.

“Y/N Y/L/N makes me go feral,” you kept reading tweets.

“Feral? like a wild animal?” Rudy chuckled.

“I guess.”

“Y/N Y/L/N was my biggest sexual awakening,” you looked at your phone.

“Again I’m flattered.”

“I’m a SLUT for Y/N,” you read another tweet.

“I want Y/N Y/L/N to [redacted] [redacted] [redacted] me so hard that I [redacted] [redacted] [redacted].”

“Wait let me see,” Rudy looked at your phone.

“That’s so funny,” Rudy laughed.

“I would rail the shit out of Y/N.”

“Me too oh wait I already do,” Rudy whispered.

“Rudy!”

“Ok ok next one says “Y/N Y/L/N can punch me in the face and i’d say thank you.”

“Oh my,” Rudy giggled.

“making out with Y/N would fix me,” you read.

“Let me tell you it’s amazing,” Rudy spoke.

“Thanks,” you laughed.

“On my knees for Y/N!”

“Interesting,” you raise your eyebrows.

“Well that was fun, thank you everyone for your support I’ll see you in the next one.”

“Bye guys!” Rudy waved goodbye.

You got up and turned off the camera. “You know I’m so lucky to have you,” Rudy told you.

“Aww,” you cooed and gave Rudy a kiss on his lips.

Rudy was your person. The two of you were perfect together. You knew you were gonna be together for a long time. You both supported each other in everything you do. Rudy was your soulmate and you were his.

[uceyliyahh]

CALL UP

summary: “Who you gon' run to when I'm gone?” Sianni went to the club with her friends completely ignoring Jey’s text messages showing out in front of her friends why? Bc she’s single ofc until he pulls up and puts her in her place.

warnings: toxic ex-boyfriend, unprotected sex, choking, daddy kink, dominance, cream-pie, baby doll, mama, toxic cycle, hair pulling, fluff at the end :)

word count: 3977

AWFUL GRAMMAR IM GETTING BETTER I SWEAR LOL.

comments, likes, repost are appreciated I would love the constructive feedback in what area I need to approve in. 🤍

ALSO! I don’t not want nobody stealing my fanfics or take it as theirs that will be an issue fasho so keep it cute respectfully.

I only own my OC along with the make up scenarios

again mdni you have been warned.

TAGS ⬇️ lmk if you wanna be tag 🏷️@pinkwithhearts @420days @jstarr86 @empressdede @angiedawn02 @biancasreign @ctinadiva @duhitzkay380 @luuvprincess

@bebesobrielo @skyesthebomb @aikosilo @papireigns-05 @punksyeet @paigereeder @magnificentbouquetmusic

@celesteheartsjey @charmed-dreamssss @fearlesschimera @partypoison00 @mselenalovebug @bloodlinesbabe93 @luvrsluxe @4milly @xbriexx @trippinsorrows @yyaktayak @yana3sworld @theusotwinzcom @lilucey @raya-hunter01

Sianni

I was excitedly preparing to hit the club with my friends Bianca and Trinity, finally free from the toxic grip of Jey. It felt liberating to know I could do whatever I wanted. We had been stuck in a harmful cycle for far too long. Every time I confronted him about his questionable behavior, he would dismiss my concerns and label me as delusional for trusting what I saw online.

This time, things took a turn for the worse; it was one of the most intense arguments we’ve ever had in our relationship. I had come across a video of him at a club, where a girl was all over him while he chatted with someone else. At first, I brushed it off, but then I received a text from her, complete with screenshots and photos of them together. That shattered me, and in that moment, I realized our time together was coming to an end.

When he returned home from his tour, I confronted him about the situation. Instead of owning up to it, he started denying everything, claiming she was lying and that the screenshots and photos were fabricated. I couldn't believe it and rolled my eyes, refusing to entertain his nonsense any longer. It became clear to me that I needed to end things for good. I was tired of his manipulation and the way he made me feel like I was losing my mind over something he had actually done.

In the present moment, he has been bombarding me with messages and calls, but I refuse to engage. I won’t be fooled by his games again. I applied some lip gloss, rubbing my lips together to create that perfect “pop.” Just then, I heard a car honking outside. When I glanced out the window, I spotted Bianca and Trin arriving.

As I reached for my purse and keys, I felt my phone buzz in my pocket, alerting me to another text message from Jey.

Stink💔 sent a message

Stink💔: Ayo Sianni yo’ ass better stop playing with me and come tf home yk them pictures were fake.

I couldn't help but roll my eyes at his message. He knows those screenshots and photos are genuine; he's just frustrated that he got caught once more. I'm exhausted from going around in circles with him on this issue, so I decided to send him a quick message before putting my phone away in my purse.

Mamas🩷: Jey leave me tf alone aight? You know them screenshots and photos of yall two together are real asf clear as day as a matter of fact I am single and I can do whatever I want so why don’t you go back to that hoe you was fucking and leave me alone.

Upon sending him that message, my phone buzzed once more, prompting a deep sigh as I noticed his reply appear on the screen.

Stink💔: single? Tuh girl yo’ ass is funny keep fucking with me yo’ ass better not be at the club tonight tell Trin and Bianca to drop you off over here now

Could he really be serious? I'm done with these mind games; he made his choice to cheat on me with someone from his own workplace.

Mamas🩷: Joshua you fucking heard me nigga I’m not repeating myself and I’m goin’ to the club either way because I’m fucking single 🙄

I stepped outside, securing the door behind me, and made my way to Bianca’s car. As I approached, she lowered the window, poked her head out, and waved enthusiastically at me.

“Heyyy girly you ready to get turnt up tonight!” Bianca exclaimed.

“Hell yeah! I needed this for real and Trin tell Jey to leave me alone please,” I said as I got in the backseat of Bianca’s car.

Trinity raised her hands, clearly wanting to distance herself from the chaos between me and her brother-in-law. "You need to sort that out with him," she advised, and I nodded in agreement, feeling my phone vibrating in my purse.

When I checked my phone, I saw three missed calls from him, and he was clearly losing it. On top of that, there were three messages waiting for me that completely took me by surprise.

three missed calls from Stink💔

Stink💔: bring yo’ ass home Sianni I’m not fucking playing with yo’ ass

Stink💔: I will pull up in the bitch a snatch yo’ little ass up and you won’t be having no type of fucking fun

Stink💔: acting fucking stupid for no fucking reason better not be shaking no ass you tryna be hoe huh?

Was it bad that I love this shit from him? Him being all aggressive and upset at me for breaking up with him and then heading to the club to act out? Yes it was toxic but did I care? Not really.

Mamas🩷: Joshua I don’t give a flying fuck what’chu yapping about my nigga all of this would’ve been avoided if you would’ve just said yes that you fucked her that’s all but no you want to be innocent and be fucking stupid.

Stink💔: Don’t fucking disrespect me Sianni I will fix all of that shit in a heartbeat and I told you none of them screenshots were real but you wanna listen to Jaida huh? You barely know her.

Mamas🩷: MAYBE she didn’t want me to look more stupid than I already do so how about you go fuck her Jey and leave me alone I told you I’m done

Stink💔: see there you go again being fucking stupid it’s okay I got something for that ass when I come snatch yo’ ass up keep on Sianni

Mamas🩷: I’m not goin back and forth with you nigga goodbye 🖕🏾

I tucked my phone away into my purse, letting out a deep sigh as I gazed out the window at the stars and the moon illuminating the night sky, hoping fervently that he wouldn’t arrive.

Bianca shouted above the pulsating beats of the club, "You two really need to mature! How much longer are you going to drag this out?"

"I genuinely care for him, but every time we seem to be in a good place, things take a turn for the worse when he starts acting sneaky." It’s incredibly frustrating. I decided to ignore his call and put my phone on do not disturb because I just couldn’t handle his drama tonight.

He could have simply admitted that he cheated on me during the times we were apart, especially since our long-distance relationship made it difficult to connect. I understood that being apart would be challenging, but this situation felt far worse than anything I had experienced before. Even when I reached out to him, his responses were often delayed, sometimes not coming until the afternoon. I tried to be patient and not pressure him about it, but everything changed when that girl, Jaida, sent me those screenshots and pictures of them together. It shattered me completely.

Addressing him about this issue or any other concerns I picked up from people online would lead him to dismiss everything as merely “work related.” I found that hard to accept and called him out on it, which only sparked intense arguments. He would manipulate the situation, leaving me in tears and forcing me to apologize. It was a relentless, toxic cycle that I was utterly exhausted by.

I longed for open communication and the reassurance I needed, but he never provided that. I reached my breaking point.

"All my single ladies, it's your time to shine!" The DJ called out into the mic, setting the stage for an electrifying moment as he seamlessly transitioned the music to TGIF by GloRilla.

Going to the club isn't about shedding tears over a guy who doesn't appreciate you or your feelings. It's about hitting the dance floor with your friends, letting loose, and enjoying life to the fullest. Embrace the night, forget your worries, and make unforgettable memories with your girls.

"Let’s have an unforgettable night and leave all our worries behind! I’m excited to be with you, my girls, since we don’t get to hang out nearly enough." With that, I downed a shot of Hennessy and made my way to the dance floor, ready to let loose.

I started dancing freely, not caring who was watching or what they thought. All that mattered was enjoying myself and letting go of the pain Jey had caused me. I was tired of the stress he brought into my life, and I was ready to embrace a good time without worrying about our relationship.

Bianca was clearly putting on a show for Trinity, and I couldn't help but laugh at their antics. Suddenly, I felt two hands gripping my hips, pulling me onto their lap. I playfully backed up against the guy behind me, moving my hips in a circular motion as I ground against him. I could sense his excitement, even though he knew he wouldn't be getting anything from me.

He explored every inch of my body, tracing my curves with his hands, his grip tightening around my throat as the alluring scent of Jack Daniel’s enveloped us.

“You cute as hell babygirl. You tryna head to the back? Got all of this ass on me.”

“Nah. you can get yo' hands off my girl."

I stood frozen, my heart racing as that deep, raspy voice echoed from behind me. I watched in shock as the guy was grabbed from behind, prompting me to spin around instantly. There on the ground lay the man, unconscious, after Jey had delivered a powerful punch to his face.

Fuck. I just knew he was going to make an appearance. Just to do something like this when he doesn’t get his way.

“What the actual fuck is wrong with you? Like honestly?” I shouted as I shoved him away.

“I told yo’ ass sianni I fucking told you now grab yo’ shit and head towards the car don’t make me repeat myself. Got me fucked up.” He shouted while I remained there, arms crossed and unyielding.

He swept me off my feet, hoisting me onto his shoulders as he snatched my purse and phone. His gaze flicked between Bianca, Trinity, and the guy groaning on the ground.

"I had no idea she was your girlfriend; it seemed like she was ready to let loose."

Jey released me momentarily, seizing the man by the edge of his shirt and delivering another punch to ensure he stayed unconscious. Then, without hesitation, he hoisted me back onto his shoulders, even as I struggled to break free.

I was thrashing and wriggling like a child, playfully hitting him on the back, until a swift smack on my backside made me pause and reconsider my actions.

“This what I have to deal with? When yo’ ass could’ve just came home like the fuck I said but no you wanted to show you fucking ass tonight!” He shouted as he released me, forcing me down against his car and holding me firmly in position.

"If you weren't such a blatant hypocrite and a liar, I wouldn't have to deal with this situation, Joshua! A little honesty from you would have gone a long way! I'm so frustrated with you! While I'm at home waiting for you, you’re out entertaining other women at work, making me feel like a fool! " All this anger and resentment I have towards you stems from your actions, and it has left me feeling utterly worthless.

“Lower your fucking tone when you speak to me Sianni and I fucking told you it was work related nothing more!”

"It's hard to believe that entertaining other women and being intimate with them is considered part of the job. I don't see Jimmy or Montez treating Trin and Bianca that way, so what's your excuse now? Try to come up with something more original, or better yet, just be honest you fucking asshole." I couldn't help but roll my eyes at him, struggling to maintain my composure as tears threatened to spill down my cheeks.

“The fuck you just, you know what I’m not dealing with this shit tonight. Get in the fucking car.”

I’m not going anywhere with you, Joshua. I’m heading back into the club with Trin and Bianca. I can’t stand you; I absolutely despise you, Joshua. My feelings for you are nothing but hatred.

“Get in the fucking car Sianni. You starting to piss me the fuck off with all of this stupid shit you doing tonight. Jey swung open the passenger door of his car, casting a scrutinizing glance in my direction. “Get yo’ ass in the mother-fucking car Sianni I’m not playing with you and you aren’t going nowhere yo’ ass can say how much you hate me all you want but I know yo’ ass ain’t leaving me.”

“Ouuu! Fuck!” I grunted feeling my face being smudge into the bed sheets as he pummeled me from the back.

“This is what you wanted right? Showing yo’ fucking ass tonight so take this dick like a good girl for me mama,” When Jey exhaled, he gave me the one-leg-up, one-leg-down combination, which gave him more leverage to drag my ass back. “throw that ass back in circles for me baby doll,”

I was completely bewildered by what he was demanding from me, especially with the harsh blows he was delivering at that moment. When I failed to heed his words, his hand came down forcefully, striking me while he seized my hair, forcing me to meet his gaze. “the fuck did I just say? throw yo’ ass back in circles like you did at the club being a hoe,” Before I could hurl it back at him, his hand slammed down again.

“Mhmm, look at you. this is my fucking pussy you hear me? you had him thinking you was finna give him some tonight. was you gonna give it up baby doll?”

“Noooo…fuck..Jey…”

My pussy tightens gripping against him as his hand thuds my ass again.

“So fucking tight. you were going to give all of this away? something that belongs to me and only me? you’re fucking crazy,”

I couldn’t be angry at him or be upset at him while he as beating my insides in so roughly. My pussy was practically begging for that urge of release, I knew that this was going to happen this never-ending cycle of us arguing and then fucking I was tired of it but within each thrust he had given me he had to remind me that I was his and belong to him and nobody else. It was toxic very toxic but I would always fall for it because I love him and I would do anything for him but this time it felt different way different than before I was talking reckless to him and he once again showed me who was in control of this situation fucking me until my body felt numb.

The car ride was filled with harsh language and hurtful comments. Once we arrived home, I felt compelled to pack a suitcase. I was exhausted from this relentless cycle; it was mentally draining, and he seemed completely indifferent to my struggles. Deep down, I didn’t want to leave him, but I had reached my breaking point. It wasn’t my fault that I felt suspicious about his actions. I had no desire for revenge; that simply wasn’t who I was. After gathering some clothes, I made my way to the door, only to find him blocking my path and yanking the suitcase from my grasp.

“Yo’ ass ain’t leaving me Sianni. Get in the fucking room and wait for me in there. acting fucking reckless tonight I’m not having it.”

I rolled my eyes as he attempted to grab my suitcase, saying, “Joshua, I’m not playing this game anymore. I’ve made it clear that I’m completely finished with you. Go find someone else, like Jaida, and just leave me alone.”

“Why do you have do be so fucking stupid Sianni huh? she’s nobody to me. getcho ass in that fucking room don’t make me repeat myself,”

"No! Fuck that I'm no—" He silenced me by aggressively kissing my lips and driving his tongue down my throat as he carried me to our common bedroom. He threw me on the bed and tore off his clothing while ripping mine off, wasting hundreds of dollars. He then flipped me over and started hitting my wet cunt and not letting me to adjust to his size

“yo’ ass wanna be fucking stupid out here worrying about me doing this and that when I’m worried about you and only you,” He growled slamming into me deeply.

"W-wait! Jey! Oh fuckkk," I wailed as I pushed on his stomach, attempting to slow him down.

“Ain’t no fucking wait you wanted to act out tonight right? act out right now mama do it take this big ass dick,” he rammed deeply inside of my inner walls, showing off his dominance letting me know who’s running the show tonight.

As my yells reverberated off the wall, I could hear how wet my pussy was for him and only him feeling him digging his thumb inside of my second hole driving me insane as he continued to pummeled me to the oblivion.

“Fuckkkk!” The sensation made me cried out.

I knew that he was enjoying this breaking me into two pieces watching me crumbling underneath his touch knowing that I wasn’t leaving him.

Tonight was unlike any other; he was imparting a crucial lesson about the dangers of recklessness. Ironically, he was the one who had put me in this position. Perhaps I had gone too far, but he failed to grasp my perspective. I took the necessary actions, even if they didn't align with his way of thinking.

“Shit, this some good ass pussy mama. You were going to give it away baby doll?” He panted thrusting his hips deeper and deeper. “You ain’t leaving me mama. I won’t allow it after all the shit we been through I won’t.” He moaned out “saying you hate me but knowing damn well you love me way to damn much you taking this dick like a big girl just for daddy mama,”

“Ouuuu.” I cried out, a pit in my stomach telling me I was ready to cum. Within seconds of his dick and thumb digging into my asshole, I was going to make a mess on him and the sheets-damn so much of washing the sheets yet again.

“You finna cum huh? you think I’ll allow you to cum after putting on a show tonight?” He pulled my hair and removed his thumb to let me to stare up at him while grinding my body against his and whining as he rubbed my clit. “tell me something you belong to me? Hm? Is this my pussy?”

I had to say something to get him to let me cum, but I was so worn out and fatigued that I couldn't even understand or imagine the words coming out of my lips.

“you belong to me right? say it,”

“Yes I belong to you..” With a gentle croak, I threw my ass across his lap and chased his high.

“Un-un,” As he continued to hammer me, he put his hand around my throat to keep me near him. “show me how much you wanna cum, show me who you belong to,”

With greater force, I flung my ass back and spat my tongue out at him, opening my mouth wide so he could spit inside of it. He then tongued me down like no other, thrusting his dick deep inside of me.

“Tell me this is mine all mine, and tell daddy that your sorry for acting out tonight and I’ll let you cum baby doll,”

“Fuckkk! I’m sorry daddy! So sorry! It’s all yours I-I belong to you and only you! I-I cumming! Ouuu fuck I’m cumming!” Knowing that I was here to stay and that I wasn't going anywhere, that was all he wanted from me. My body fell onto the bed, and my thoughts went blank as I felt my body flail onto the covers like a dead body as my fluids poured out of me.

He struck me one final time as his warm seeds filled my inner walls to such a degree that I could see stars and felt ropes entering me one after the other.

After letting his dick spew out all of his nut that was gushing out the last of his sperm, he remained in that position for a minute before pulling away from me and flipping me onto my back as he watched my body tremble uncontrollably.

He tenderly brushed his lips across my skin, each gentle kiss designed to calm me, before leaning in to press a soft kiss on my lips. Then, he settled himself between my legs, resting his head against my chest.

“Did you actually mean that shit? That you hate me? Like actually hate me?”

“No, I didn’t mean it. I just wish you were more honest with me instead of denying it, it just felt like you didn’t care,”

“I do care though mama, I just don’t like to when you listen to other people on the net when you should be hearing it from me,”

I let out a heavy sigh, feeling utterly drained. "You know, you kept denying it over and over, which only made you seem more guilty, Joshua. So, I need you to be honest with me: did you cheat on me while you were on tour?"

The atmosphere in the room was thick with silence as he and I locked eyes. “I swear, I didn’t cheat on you while I was on tour. Jon and Montez can back me up on that. As for Jaida, I haven’t spoken to her since we ended things. Those were just old pictures and screenshots,” he said, realizing that my previous reactions were based on false evidence. “I could never betray you like that, mama. I love you too much, Sianni.”

“Then what about all of these times you didn’t answer my calls or text?”

“I was with the guys and got drunk so I couldn’t text you back really, look I’m sorry mama like for real though I’m sorry I want you and only you,”

Did I truly want to trust him this time? I was uncertain whether to approach Montez or Jon about the situation; they would likely just defend him regardless. Still, I simply didn’t have the energy to deal with it.

I weakly nodded in response to his smile, and I couldn't help but think that if looks could truly kill, he would be the one to end me. As we settled into bed, he pulled me close, his strong arms encircling my waist, creating a sense of safety and warmth.

“I love you Sianni,” Jey whispered as he placed a kiss on my neck.

“Mmmm, love you too,” I mumbled while drifting off to sleep.

Could he really be honest? He appeared sincere, yet my tendency to overthink casts doubt on his words. Ultimately, only time will reveal the truth.

-fin ❤️

A/n: ngl this ate down lol 😭🙂‍↕️

[nephilimeq]

Stuck in the Middle With You

Prompt: Clingy Boyfriend

@bucktommyfluffebruary

A03: https://archiveofourown.org/works/62721625/chapters/160733068

Buck was annoyed.

No, scratch that—he was pissed.

It had been over seventy-two hours—and he still hadn’t seen his boyfriend. Hell, he had been forced to go back to his apartment because there was no point in going over to Tommy’s house because he wouldn't even be there for another forty-eight hours. Somehow—he had no idea how—the end of Bucks forty-eight had overlapped with the beginning of Tommy’s seventy-two, and the only thing he wanted to do was pull his hair out by the roots and scream into the void.

…But he couldn’t, so instead he was doing the next best thing: drinking with Eddie and complaining about his life.

“Dude, you’ll be fine,” his friend reassured him as he sat next to him at the bar at a quarter past eight. “it’s not like you guys haven’t gone five days without seeing each other since you two started dating…”

Buck didn’t look up at him, casting his eyes down towards his glass.

“Seriously?!”

He let out a whine as he stretched out almost flat against the bar and reluctantly admitted, “Yeah, we’ve kinda been attached at the hip—”

“Or other body parts,” Eddie muttered before taking a swig of his beer and Buck glared at him and said, “Hey! No interrupting!” and threw a rogue peanut shell at him, and then added, “I mean, we still text, call, and video chat, but…god, it’s just not the same, you know?” and then took a long drag of his own beer, thinking about the fact that Tommy would reprimand him for choosing such a generic brand instead of going for one of the nicer craft beers with a better flavor.

But he didn’t want a better flavor, he wanted to drown his sorrows and didn’t need something like flavor getting in the way of that. Besides, he wouldn’t have appreciated the taste anyway, far too focused on trying to numb the longing feeling in his chest that felt as though it was turning into a cavernous hole.

Eddie gave him a look and said, “Look, if you miss him so much, then why don’t you swing by the 217?” and Buck shot him a look.

“Because, they’re on standby for the fires and their schedule is all over the place! And-and I don’t wanna just, you know, show up like the clingiest boyfriend in the world! I’m not some, some…tween girl who’s obsessed, you know?”

“You’re not? Coulda fooled me,” his friend drawled as he turned and leaned with his back to the bar and Buck found himself glaring at him all over again, getting slightly annoyed at his friend’s attitude, and threw another peanut at him, thrilled when it hit his chin and then fell into the front pocket of his flannel, and he muttered into the crook of his folded arm, “Ha, three points,” knowing that if Tommy had been there he would have appreciated him making the basketball joke.

Eddie merely shot him an arched eyebrow.

“You’re acting like Christopher, right now, you do know that, right?” he said as he fished out the peanut and popped it into his mouth.

Buck scoffed and slowly sat up, saying, “If you’re telling me that I have the emotional maturity of a fourteen-year-old, you are way off on that mark. According to Dr. Jensen, I have the emotional maturity of a twenty-five year old.”

“Buck, you’re thirty-four.”

“Yeah, I’m still catching up. So?”

Eddie merely shook his head and took another sip from his beer while Buck cast a glance around the bar, noting that it was still a light crowd. Of course, it was the middle of the week, and eight o’clock on a Wednesday evening wasn’t exactly the hip time for people to be out drinking. God, he was pathetic.

--

“Oh, god, just call him!” Sal said, sounding thoroughly annoyed—but Tommy shook his head and said, “I can’t! He’s out with Eddie and I don’t want to bother him while he’s having a good time off shift, you know?”

“If he’s anything like you, he doesn’t know how to have a good time,” muttered Lucy from behind her cards on the other side of the table, her feet propped up on the edge. “I take that bet and raise you two skittles,” she then said, arching an eyebrow at him, and Tommy knew immediately that she was bluffing and said, “I call.”

She smirked.

“Read ‘em and weep, Kinard.”

She laid down her cards with all the confidence of someone twenty years her senior—and Tommy nodded and said, “Nice hand, Donato. Full house…which would be great if I didn’t have a straight flush,” and he laid down his hand with a smirk, and she let out a huff and dropped her legs and said, “God, I hate your poker face. You’re inscrutable.”

“It’s a gift,” he said, pulling the pile of candy towards him, popping a lemon skittle into his mouth…and found his eyes drifting towards his phone, where he had left it on the table, wondering if he should give Evan a call. He hadn’t been able to spend any time with him for two days already, and now he was stuck with another three days without him. God, he had never gone more than three days without him, and now he was going to be away from him for a total of five fucking days.

His hand twitched—and then Sal said, “For fuck’s sake, just call him!”

“Language Deluca!” shouted their captain, but he simply rolled his eyes and moved over to him, shoving his shoulder up against his.

“Look, have the two of you been apart for very long before? Anything longer than two or three days?” he asked…and Tommy reluctantly admitted, “Uh…no. We’ve never spent more than three days apart since we got back together,” and his friend let out a long sigh that lasted so long it almost seemed as though he was deflating.

He then said, “Mierda…you two are grade-a clingers, aren’t you?”

…and Tommy snorted and started to laugh and through his laughter he managed to say, “Okay, yeah, I guess we are. When we’re at home we do almost everything together,” he admitted, giving Sal a sideways glance. “I think we’re both kinda touch starved and we both need a lot of reassurance after what happened to us all those months ago. I think we’re also both a little bit afraid on some sort of subconscious level that the other person is gonna just up and leave …”

His friend turned so they were both facing the same way and said, “You two are good together. So, why don’t you text him?”

--

“…Because if I text him, then he’ll know that I can’t go more than a couple days at a time without him!” Buck explained as he stood on the other side of the pool table, moving the stick between his hands in an agitated manner. “I don’t want him to think that I’m desperate! Don’t you get that?”

Eddie glanced up at him as he lined up his shot and muttered under his breath, “I get that you’re both grade-a clingers…”

Buck shot him a look.

“You don’t get it,” he said, shaking his head and walking over to where Eddie was lining up his shot. “If I reach out first then that means I’m the clingier one! And I am not the clingier one! You’ve never seen how Tommy follows me around the apartment when he comes over…or how-how whenever I go to his place, he is constantly calling out to check in on where I am just in case so he can find me if he wants to share something with me because he thinks texting across the house is-is too…impersonal!”

At that, Eddie took his shot, missing it, and then straightened and said, “Je-sus, Buck. I’m thinking you two might be a little codependent,” and at that Buck arched an eyebrow at him as he bent over to line up his own shot and said, “Oh, big word for you. Therapy working?”

His friend shrugged.

“Eh, yeah. I guess. Still feels too much like confession to me,” he said with a pointed look, “But I think it’s working. Still—you and Tommy have a weird relationship.”

“No, we don’t,” Buck stressed, taking his own shot and sinking it without even glancing back down at the table. “We have a healthy relationship. I think the two of us are just trying to make up for lost time, you know? Those few months without him were hell for me, and for him, and now we just…I think maybe we’re just scared that one of us might come up with another reason to walk away from it and so we don’t like being away from each other for too long…”

Letting out a sigh, he went to line up his next shot…and then Eddie said, “So you’re not texting him because…?”

--

“Because if I text him, then he’ll know that I can’t go more than a few days without him,” Tommy said to Sal as they got the injured hiker into the medevac chopper. “And if he knows that, then he’ll know that I’m the clingier one, and I’m not! Do you know that Evan tries to text me across the house? I’ve told him to just let me know where he is and I can come to him, but no. He insists on being allowed to text me across the house, which is just…weird.”

From below them, the woman on the gurney lifted up a feeble hand and said, “You know, you and your husband should just sit down and talk about how to communicate when you’re feeling insecure, because that’s what I’m picking up on here,” and he quickly corrected her.

“He’s my boyfriend, not my husband.”

Sal then interjected, “But you want him to be your husband, don’t you?” and Tommy ducked his eyes and moved back to the pilot’s seat, pulling on his headset.

“I’m not talking about this with you, Sal.”

His friend shot him a look and said, “Uh, you kinda are. So just text him, already! You miss him because you love him, that’s not a bad thing,” he said as Tommy lifted the chopper into the air, heading for the hospital. “Love can make you do stupid things—like break up with someone when they ask you to move in with them,” he jabbed at him, and the airman groaned and repeated, “I am not talking with you about this! Evan and I…we can figure it out. We got back together, didn’t we?”

At that, his friend chuckled and said, “Yeah, sure, like you were the one who figured it out. Isn’t the only reason why you two got back together because Howie pulled some underhanded shit with his wife and kid in order to get you and your boy into the same room again?”

Tommy sighed.

Okay, so yeah, it had been because of Howie and Maddie that he and Evan had gotten back together…but it was because of them talking things out that they had finally decided that it was worth it.

Still, as he angled the chopper towards the direction of the hospital he thought about what Sal had been trying to say to him the entire shift—and he hated to admit it, but the man was right. He missed Evan because he was in love with him, and that wasn’t a bad thing. Hell, it was practically expected at this point in their relationship.

Tommy continued to think on it as they dropped off the injured hiker…

…and then as they landed back at the 217, he reluctantly said to Sal over the headset, “Okay, maybe you’re right.”

His friend shot him a far too smug look, and the airman was already regretting his words, especially when the other man said as they sauntered back to the main hangar, “Oh, I want that put onto a t-shirt! ‘Tommy Kinard says that Sal Deluca was right!’ This is a pretty damn good feeling! So…you’re gonna text him, right?” he prodded, and Tommy nodded and reached for his phone, feeling a small sense of relief as he saw the picture of his boyfriend smiling on his lock screen.

He smiled down at it and then swiped his phone open…where Evan was the background, and he continued to smile.

Sal playfully shoved at his shoulder with his own, saying, “Someone’s in lo-ove,” and Tommy shoved him right back, pleased when the other man stumbled.

Hesitantly, he brought up their texts and then stared at them for a moment or two, trying to get up the courage to message him first, noting that their last conversation had been about the shopping list for the cookies that Tommy had baked for the 118.

He stop midstride and stared at it…and then began to type…

--

“He’s bubbling me!” Buck said, staring at his phone in shock. He had finally caved and reached for his phone to text his boyfriend, only to see those little bubbles telling him that Tommy was texting him first.

“Yipee,” Eddie said dryly from the corner of the pool table, looking at it with a curious expression, as if expecting it to rearrange the balls for him so that he would have a better shot.

Buck ignored him and continued to stare at his screen, waiting for the message to show up—and then grinned when the words that popped up said, Hey, thinking about you. Sorry we have to spend so many days apart, babe, and he couldn’t help but feel lucky to have someone in his life who understood just how hard it was for him to be apart from the people he loved for long amounts of time, and he immediately texted back, Thinking about you, too. Miss you, along with a kissy face emoji.

Feeling reassured, he slid his phone back into his pocket and turned his attention back to the game and teased, “You gonna take your shot or what, Diaz?” and Eddie gave him a bitch-face and leaned against his pool stick and said, “Gimme a minute! Your last shot fucked me up…”

Buck rolled his eyes.

“Oh my god, you’re so dramatic! Just take the shot!”

“Well, looks like someone’s in a better mood,” his friend muttered as he bent over and took the shot, letting out another curse when the ball bounced off a bumper and went wide, setting it up perfectly for Buck’s next shot, and he grinned and set it…and in three moves he had finished the game.

Eddie pretended to be annoyed with him, but he was smiling as he said, “So, think you can manage a few more days without him?” and Buck shrugged and said, “I guess so, yeah. I just…I sleep better with him next to me, you know?” and his friend tilted his head and remarked, “Yeah, I guess I can understand that. I remember it was hard for a while after I was deployed to sleep without Shannon next to me, so I get it,” and patted his shoulder.

Buck nodded and turned back to the pool table.

“Wanna go again?”

Eddie smirked.

“Bring it on, lover boy.”

Buck scoffed and said, “Oh, c’mon, I’m not that whipped, am I?” and Eddie lifted an eyebrow and said, “Yeah, you kinda are, but that’s okay. By the way,” he said as he moved around to the other side of the table, “Are you even living at your apartment anymore? Why don’t you just move into his place?” and his heart skipped a beat.

Yeah, okay, he’d thought about it, but it was too soon, and he knew it—he had jumped the gun last time, he wasn’t going to do that again.

“Uh, I still have my lease,” he finally replied, avoiding eye contact, focusing on re-racking the balls for their next game. He didn’t have to look up to know that his friend was giving him a side eye…but Eddie said nothing, and he breathed a sigh of relief.

Just three more days.

--

It was three days of torture and the shift from hell, and Tommy couldn’t quite believe that he had managed to survive. Letting out a sigh of relief, he dropped his bag as soon as he stepped inside his front door and kicked his shoes off and tossed his jacket to the side, uncaring of where anything landed…

…and then the next thing he knew, he had his arms full of his boyfriend, who immediately buried his head in his neck.

“God, I missed you,” Evan said, his voice slightly muffled from where it was pressed into his collarbone, and the airman chuckled and wrapped his arms tightly around him and said softly, “I missed you, too, babe,” and pressed a kiss to his damp curls, which told him that Evan had just gotten out of the shower. He took a deep breath, smelling his own soap on his skin, a blend of cedarwood and spearmint, and then nuzzled his nose into his hair, letting out a sigh.

Evan practically melted into him, and the feeling of his body pressed up against his was the best thing he had felt in a long time, having been spending far too much time dealing with Lucy and Sal on either side of him, their presence welcome, but not the same as the man he loved.

“As much as I love this, babe, can we move to the couch? I am beat,” Tommy muttered, and his boyfriend nodded.

Not quite letting go of each other, they made their way to the living room and then promptly crashed onto the couch, Buck laying out flat with Tommy on top of him—

—and god was that nice.

With all of his previous ‘relationships’ he had always been the big spoon because of his height and broad build…but with Evan he was able to relax into another broad chest without having to worry that he was going to crush him.

They lay there for a long while, not saying a single thing, Evan’s fingers carding through his hair, the sensation soft and lulling him into an almost sleep…but then through the haze of exhaustion, he heard him ask, “Am I…am I too clingy for you?” and Tommy snorted and said, “Nope, not at all. Actually, Sal and I talked today, and he says that I’m the clingy one of the two of us,” and he felt a chuckle run through his boyfriend’s chest as he said, “Funny enough, Eddie said the same thing about me…”

He grinned and rubbed his hand over Evan’s side, enjoying every single second of being able to touch him, and softly added, “Well, it seems to be working for us, so I say we keep on doing it.”

Buck chuckled a second time.

“I like that idea.”

He then tucked a finger under the airman’s chin and lifted his head just enough to press a kiss to his lips and Tommy moaned into the kiss and then said as they both pulled back from it, “I’ve never been happier to have a clingy boyfriend,” and Evan gave him a look.

“Damn straight.”

“Damn…gay, actually,” he teased, and was thrilled when his boyfriend groaned and rolled his eyes and said, “Oh, god, I forgot how bad your jokes are.”

“Excuse you, but I am hilarious,” Tommy retorted, lifting himself up slightly to rest his hands on Evan’s chest and prop his chin on top of his clasped hands. “You just don’t appreciate my brand of humor, Evan.”

They shared a look, both of them trying to stare down the other—and then they both broke into giggles, both of them sounding almost manic with the way their giggles dissolved into breathless gulps of laughter, neither of them able to contain themselves. Tommy knew that part of the reason why he was acting so ridiculous was because he always acted punch drunk when he was this tired, and he knew that Evan was just naturally that amused at him.

Eventually it subsided and they rested quietly against each other once more…

…and then Evan said, “I like it when you’re clingy,” and Tommy whispered back, “I like when you’re clingy, too…”

A warm silence fell, and as they lay there the stray thought entered the airman’s mind that Evan always felt like home to him, and that he spent more time at his place than back at his own apartment. Even though it felt too soon, he wanted him to move in…but not yet. It could wait a bit longer, he mused as his felt his boyfriend’s fingers tracing along his spine.

Yeah.

It could wait a bit longer.

[couldawouldashoulda50]

A/N: I had this idea back in December when Alex was playing with the Marlies. He led the team in an incredible comeback after being down 3-0 against Bakersfield, finishing the night with five points—two assists, three goals, and an OT winner to complete the hat trick.

I started wondering… what if Loren showed up at his game one afternoon—completely unprompted, just because she wanted to support him? Would that mean something to Alex? Would it affect him in a way he didn't expect?

I had so much fun writing this, and I hope there’s an audience out there for it. ❤️ *Note - as much as I try to keep real events aligned with dates and such, I realize that Ella Nylander was already in TO at the time but kept that fact out for the sake of the story.

Warnings - profanity, high level description during a hook-up (not terribly detailed smut), allusions to Loren and William in bed.

18+ only please.

Word count - 7k

Loren approached the usher at the entrance to the stands at Coca-Cola Coliseum, the home arena for the Toronto Marlies - the farm team for the Maple Leafs.

She showed the electronic ticket on her phone with her seat number. “Row CC - straight down to ice level…you’ll see a lot of the action - great view. Enjoy the game and let me know if you have any questions.”

Loren thanked him and began descending down the metal steps which creaked and shifted slightly with every step. She felt the energy and excitement in the air of the arena as she slipped into her seat by the glass. She was the lone person in her row at that moment, the coldness of the seat and the chill from the ice’s surface had her zipping up her vest and adjusting her knitted cream turtleneck.

William had left for Detroit the day before and told her to stay at the condo, take it easy - try to enjoy a rare weekend to herself. But sleeping in his bed without him had only made her miss him more. She decided to head home after lunch on Saturday, but as she merged onto the northbound Don Valley Parkway, she had a spur-of-the-moment idea and decided to go to see Alex (Nylander) and the Marlies play that afternoon instead. Taking the first viable exit off the parkway, she entered the address of the arena into her GPS at a traffic light. She decided not to even let Alex know she was coming - she would send him a congratulatory text or one with words of support afterward once she arrived home, depending on the outcome.

As she settled into her seat, Loren took another glance around the arena, her gaze lifting to the banners in the rafters and the large video screen hanging over center ice. William played here once. The thought crossed her mind as she imagined him at eighteen—this gorgeous, fresh-faced, highly touted rookie as he stepped onto this very ice. He had always been confident, that much she knew, but she wondered, aside from the hockey aspect, how he truly felt back then, navigating his life as a young player in a city like Toronto.

Smiling to herself, she pulled out her phone and snapped a quick selfie—her seat by the glass, trying to angle the shot to capture the Marlies emblem at centre ice. She sent it to William - no caption, no explanation - just a photo.

The response was almost immediate.

William: Beautiful ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥 are you at Alex’s game?

Loren grinned, pulling her phone out of her pocket again.

Loren: Yes - I decided to come watch him at the last minute. I was actually going home because I miss my boys so much…but I turned around when I got the idea to come watch Alex play.

There was a pause—just long enough that she could picture him considering the words in her message.

William: That’ll mean a lot to him. Does he know ur there?

Loren: No - I didn’t want to bother him…he’ll be coming out soon for warm-ups so maybe he’ll see me. Snagged first row - I can’t even get first row to see you 😝😘

William: I’d be too distracted seeing you in the first row ❤️‍🔥🫠🥴

Loren: It would be distracting since I’d be in heat and licking the glass the entire time 🤤🫦

There was another pause, he was typing, then he would stop and start again.

William: Fuck, you really are the best. Please don’t go home afterward….it’ll be late but I really hope you’ll be there in bed when i get back.

Loren: I can hardly wait…have a good game. will be thinking about you.

She knew they could just go on and on with messaging so William just responding with another heart-on-fire emoji.

She slipped her phone back in her pocket, barely realizing her perma-grin that she was wearing. William had this way of making her feel like she could levitate. The warmth she felt from their brief exchange cut through the chill in the arena far better than her chunky turtleneck did.

Loren looked around at all the spectators starting to file into their seats. Kids started to line up along the class with some handmade signs for their favourite players - smaller scale than what she had witnessed at Leaf games but no less endearing. The energy in the atmosphere was building and there were moments where she felt just as excited to be there as she is when she sees William play.

With the bass pounding and the laser show flashing, the announcer riled up the crowd as the Marlies players began filing onto the ice, followed by Bakersfield, the opposing team. Her eyes darted around as she scanned the sea of jerseys and helmets. It wasn’t long before they landed on the jersey number 92, who was skating hard around the corners, a look of absolute focus on his face.

He skated past her spot in the stands, and Loren figured he hadn’t seen her. Her gaze trailed after him for a moment before shifting to a few other players she recognized. But when she glanced back, searching for Alex again, she caught him mid-lap—just as he turned his head and nearly collided with Alex Steeves. Both players stumbled, their skates catching awkwardly on the ice. He stopped abruptly, his skates gripping the ice as his brows furrowed, focusing on her and processing her presence. As he approached the glass, she gave him a small wave and an easy smile, mouthing, “Hi.”

Alex grinned, a mix of surprise and delight lighting up his expression. He shook his head slightly, as if to say, What are you doing here? Loren smiled and shrugged, pointing to the ice, mouth: to watch you play.

Alex was touched. He had never even thought of asking if she’d ever want to come to a Marlies game. And he liked Loren - he always had. They got along well and occasionally bantered back and forth but there was a part of him that felt something else whenever she was around. It wasn’t that he was uncomfortable - unsettling maybe? Not about who Loren was - he knew she was good to the core. But still - it was something he noticed, this vague feeling that he could never put his finger on it, but it wasn’t hidden enough for him to shake entirely.

As warmups continued, Loren noticed some of Alex’s teammates lining up along the glass and seemingly sneaking glances her way, nudging each other and laughing under their breath. She pretended not to notice, keeping her attention on Alex as he shot pucks at the net. He barely looked her way again, but she knew he was aware of her. His strides were longer, his shots harder. And when he lingered near her side of the ice, stretching, working his edges, it wasn’t an accident.

Some of the players were flipping pucks over the glass towards a group of young fans. A boy near Loren, not more than 9 or 10 approached her with a puck that he had just caught, and offered it to her.

Loren’s eyes went wide with appreciation, sweetly declining the offer.

“Oh my gosh, no….you keep this, but I really appreciate the offer! Thank you so much…that was very kind of you,” Loren smiling.

Alex laughed as he watched the reaction of the boy walk away grinning like an idiot as he approached his friends. If he was being honest, he didn’t blame the boy one bit.

As warmups concluded and the players all filed off the ice, Loren settled back down in her seat. She flagged down a vendor selling drinks and popcorn, and watched as her food was passed along towards her, promptly thanking her seat “neighbours” for obliging.

Once the game began, it was clear Loren was not bringing the Marlies any kind of luck. She tried not to be superstitious or think that because of her mere attendance that day, that she could set the entire tone for the game. Still, Toronto being down 3-0 by the end of the first wasn’t what she had hoped for.

The second and third periods made up for the abysmal start to the game. Bakersfield answered the first Marlies goal by scoring two more. But Alex clapped back and potted one in the net edging the game closer in scoring. What no one knew is that after the 5th Bakersfield goal, the Marlies would own the rest of the game.

With the game tied at the end of the third, heading into overtime, Alex had scored twice, and had two secondary assists.

Once OT had begun and bolstered by their amazing comeback to tie the game, the Marlies, and Alex specifically, had a dogged determination apparent to every spectator in the stands.

Over three minutes in, Loren was on the edge of her seat as she watched Alex hit an opposing player, then take off up the middle of the ice. United with the rest of the fan base, Loren could feel the roar increasing as the Marlies pushed down in to the offensive zone. With a teammate on his left, Alex took the pass keeping his stride, skating straight toward the goalie. Loren, along with everyone around her, shot to her feet as Alex veered right. A smooth backhand—perfectly placed—and just like that, the puck hit the back of the net. OT winner. Hat trick. First star of the game.

Loren chatted briefly with her seat neighbours before they began the ascent up the stairs towards the exit. Loren wasn’t in a rush as she hadn’t figured out what was in store for her for the rest of the night. Yes, she was staying in the city but there were hours before she would be ready to crawl into William’s bed. She considered texting Alice—Simon Benoit’s partner—to see if she and baby Adelaide were up for a little late-night fun. But, as Loren soon found out, both Alice and Adelaide were down for the count with a virus that had been making the rounds, for the second time that season. Although Alice texted she would love for Loren to come and keep her company, they both knew that Loren couldn’t risk transmitting to those she supported in the group home.

A woman’s voice called out to her. “Loren?”

Loren smiled, but she did not recognize the woman who called her name. “Hi, yes - I’m Loren.”

“Nice to meet you. Alex wanted me to try and catch you before you left. Sorry - I’m Kate Bascom, Media Manager for the team.”

Loren’s eyes flashed with recognition. “So nice to meet you, Kate. Alex wants to see me?”

“He asked that I bring you down the tunnel - they’ll be doing their media availability soon so I’ll find a spot for you to sit and wait for him, okay?”

“Oh - okay, sounds good. Thank you so much,” Loren blushed.

Loren followed Kate as she lead the way through the twists and turns of the corridors leading towards the lockers.

As they walked, Loren hesitated, her steps slowing. The last thing she needed was people jumping to conclusions about her and Alex. Explaining the truth felt almost worse—because once people started talking, through all the available forums for gossiping, it would be out in universe forever.

It was as though Kate could read Loren’s mind as they walked. “So Alex mentioned you’re William’s girlfriend?”

Their pace slowed. Loren flexed her fingers, her stomach tightening at the question. Loren Looked at Kate and spoke as quietly as she could. “Well, yes - we’ve been seeing each other exclusively since Thanksgiving.” Loren hesitated before she continued explaining her and William’s status to Kate. “Both he and I want to keep everything absolutely under wraps so I’d rather just sit somewhere off to the side until Alex is done his stuff.”

Being the Media Manager for the Marlies for a number of years, this was well within her area of expertise. Kate found it oddly refreshing - normally it was the player asking to keep things confidential, not the other way around. The worry in Loren’s face made it clear—this wasn’t just something casual. Whatever was between her and William, they were serious about keeping it private.

Kate led Loren through a small enclave that opened into a much larger room, packed with every kind of hockey equipment imaginable. “Loren, I’m going to grab Wil - he’s the Head Equipment Manager. He’ll find a spot for you to wait for Alex, okay? I’m sure you’re used to waiting around after the games,” she winked.

“I really appreciate it Kate - thank you so much,” Loren smiled, cheeks still aflush.

The life these professional players led often felt dizzying to Loren. Even after her time with William, she felt like she’d barely scratched the surface. And now, seeing Alex’s experience too, she was even more amazed. The contrast between William and Alex was vast—both professional players, both Nylanders, yet leading very different careers. And behind closed doors, she saw the unique bond they shared. The chirping they doled out to each other, the arguing, the laughter, their undying support for one another. She felt so fortunate to witness any of it.

Approaching Loren was a broad man with slicked back hair, accompanied by Kate. Kate began the introductions. “Loren, this is Wil Burns. He’s been a part of the equipment staff for the Marlies for many years. Wil this is Loren - ,” Kate looked at Loren to fill in the blank.

Loren extended her hand, a wide grin on her face. “Girard. Loren Girard. Wil - it’s so nice to meet you.”

“Likewise, Loren,” Wil smiled, shaking her hand. “You can come back into this area and watch all the goings on until Alex is through with his interviews. You came for the right game - pretty exciting, eh?”

Loren chuckled. “I thought maybe I should leave after the first - that maybe I was bad luck for the team,” she smiled. “I’m glad they grabbed that momentum and just ran with it. It’s such great hockey.”

Wil took the time to walk Loren through the post-game routines of the players and staff. She’d never been this close to it with the Leafs, so she absorbed every detail, fascinated by how much went on behind the scenes.

As the post game media scrums wrapped up, Loren saw Alex walking through the dressing room, followed by William Villeneuve. Both players had an incredible night - Alex with his 5 points and William with 4. She smiled watching Alex from a distance - there was no denying he was 100% pure Nylander. There were many different traits between William and Alex, both in stature and in personality, and Loren had begun to see those differences the more time she spent with the brothers.

Kate tapped Alex on the shoulder, nodding toward Loren. His grin spread wide before he could stop it, and—almost unbelievably—his cheeks flushed pink as he stepped toward her.

Then she smiled at him. Her expression was full of warmth mixed with excitement and pride. The way she looked at him made Alex feel like he was the only person in the room.

Something strange settled in his chest.

Up until that moment, Loren had always just been William’s girl. Hell, Alex had once flat-out told William to move on from her—to focus on hockey instead of whatever was happening between them.

But so much had transpired since then.

Alex remembered when William told him—plain as day—that no one brought anything close to what Loren brought into his life. Alex had brushed it off at the time, giving William some generic, emotionless response.

But now, standing in front of her, he understood what William meant in a way he never had before.

Alex barely had time to process the shift inside him before Loren stepped forward, her eyes dancing with excitement.

"Hej där!" Her Swedish was careful and a little hesitant, but the fact she tried made it endearing. "Oh my gosh, amazing game! Congratulations, Alex!" she beamed.

A warmth filled Alex’s chest - it was nice having someone waiting for him after a game. Someone that was invested and cheered for whether his team won or lost. Someone that was gorgeous on the outside, enough to make his teammates envious, but sweet enough on the inside to impress his grandmother.

Someone like Lo—no. No, no, no. Not someone like Loren. Not Loren.

She was William’s girlfriend. You cannot think about her that way.

Alex clenched his jaw, forcing the thought from his mind before it could settle.

And then Loren hugged him.

Brief. Polite.

But long enough for Alex’s cheeks to flush an even deeper shade of red. Long enough for him to catch a hint of her fragrance—warm and familiar, the same scent that marks her presence in the condo.

“I was thinking that I brought some bad juju or something in the first…I was going slink out and send you an apology later. But god, when you guys turned it around….well, I guess you don’t need my replay - you made so much of it happen,” Loren blushed, slightly embarrassed about her enthusiastic commentary.

Alex chuckled at the jab she made to herself. “Hey - well…uh, I think a bunch of us are going out…did you want to tag along or -?”

Loren’s expression was appreciative mixed with apologetic. “That sounds awesome but I think it’s best if I just head back to the condo. Watch William play, head to bed - pretty tame….you know me,” she smiled.

Alex looked around into the adjoining room where a few of his teammates had conveniently stopped to have a “conversation” about “their hockey sticks” all while unabashedly checking out Loren from behind.

“Nawh - that sounds good, some these guys might start creepin’ up to you anyway,” Alex remarked, looking over her shoulder and making eye contact until they unglued their gaze from Loren’s ass. “Some of them don’t know how to behave…,” he said loudly, getting their attention before Loren had a chance to turn around.

Loren sensed there was a moment that just occurred between Alex and the small group of players off to the side. Whatever just happened was more than enough to signify that it was time for her to go.

She and Alex chatted for a few more minutes, keeping it light—whether William had asked her to pick up Pablo and Banksy, or if she wanted Alex to grab something for her and bring it by later.

Loren thanked him and replied that William wanted to keep his routine with the dogs, then told Alex she might make something for herself, but she appreciated the offer.

And with that, she said she’d see him later—and to call if he needed a ride.

Alex reentered the dressing room, already bracing himself for the chirps and questions. He knew they were coming.

And sure enough—he wasn’t wrong.

After systematically shutting it all down with a casual, “She is 100% taken—no guy on the planet has a chance with her,” followed by a chuckle and a resounding, “Give it up,” Alex hit the showers, letting the hot water drown out all the questions, the teasing, and whatever the hell that weird feeling was from earlier.

—

Alex slid into his older brother’s Porsche. He sat for a moment, contemplating his options for the night.

He could drop the car off at home, grab an Uber, and really let loose.

Or he could just drive himself, keep it to one or two drinks, and call it a night.

There were plenty of options, but given his mood? Two drinks felt like enough.

Soon, messages began popping up—many from girls he’d connected with recently, all of them congratulating him on a great game.

One message caught his attention—not because of what it said, but because of who sent it. Nevaeh.

They met one evening at a popular Toronto night spot back in November when the Nylander siblings were all together. Alex had been dancing with another girl, her name long lost in his mind, drowning in a sea of possibilities—when Nevaeh scooched behind him to get by.

Her hands were planted firmly on his waist as she shimmied past, but given the dance floor seemed to have ample room, her touch left Alex a bit puzzled yet intrigued.

The two would keep bumping into one another, and by the end if the night, Alex had her online details. Over the course of the past weeks, Alex and Neveah kept in touch, though there were no real conversations to speak of. They sexted, sending provocative and extremely elicit messages and photos back and forth. He liked her confidence - her boldness - he had always been drawn to women who just lay it all out there.

Neveah’s message suggested that he come over for a bit while she got ready for the club. Just hang out, she said. Then we can go together.

Alex wasn’t an idiot. The invite was simple enough but it was the accompanying pictures that gave him the extra context he needed.

His lips quirked at the corner as he tapped out a reply.

Alex: Omw.

And with that, he pulled out of the lot.

—

Nevaeh wasted no time the second he closed her apartment door.

He barely had a chance to scan her body under the robe that she quickly untied. She was pressed up against him, threading her fingers through his hair along the collar of his jacket. She flashed a wicked grin, telling him how fucking hot he looked, before her lips pressed against his. Alex let her take control, let her pull him toward the bedroom, let her undress him with absolute efficiency.

This wasn’t about connection.

She was good—knew exactly what she was doing, knew exactly how to work him up, what to say and how to say it. She was on her knees, her expression covering all bases between innocence and unbridled sexual hunger. Before he had a chance to think, her hands and mouth moved on his cock with practiced skill.

It was good. It had its desired effect.

Later, she climbed on top of him, sliding his cock into her, rolling her hips, and taking what she wanted while Alex let her. His hands gripped her waist and watched her enjoying herself. He was feeling pretty good himself as well so win win at the end of the day.

He watched her as she bounced on him, closing in on her orgasm. He could feel his own climax beginning to take hold, and once she reached the height of her release, he flipped her onto her back and jackhammered her until he spilled out into the condom.

After the highs of their respective orgasms had faded, they lay apart in silence as their breathing returned to normal. Nevaeh barely spared him a glance as she pecked him on the cheek, reaching for her phone while curling into his side. Scrolling. Giggling. Liking. Typing.

Alex stared at the ceiling, waiting for that post-sex haze to settle in.

It didn’t.

The silence between them solidified their lack of compatibility, apparent to Alex only in that moment.

But what Neveah said to him, once she broke the silence, was the thing that really annoyed the shit out of him.

“So,” she started, her voice suddenly a slightly higher pitch, almost childlike. “We should skip the club and go back to your place. Introduce me to your brother.”

Alex brows furrowed as he tilted his head to look at her.

"What?"

"You know," she said, smirking at her screen, "I bet you and him would love me and…oooh, maybe even a couple of my girls." She finally glanced up, giving him a playful nudge. "You should make it happen. We'd be... very attentive to both you boys, if we were given the opportunity."

Alex let out a short laugh, mostly because what the fuck else was he supposed to do?

This wasn’t new. Not even remotely. Women had been propositioning them both for years—together, separately, in various places around the world. And of course, as young and virile men would do, they enjoyed in obliging the offers from time to time.

The annoying part was how casually Neveah brought up William. Like it wasn’t enough that Alex had just fucked her—she wanted a shot at his brother too.

Of course she did.

Even after a five-point night, even after leading his team to an OT win, William was still the focal point.

Alex didn’t resent his brother. Not really. But it was hard to ignore that no matter what he did, no matter how good he played, William was always the name people cared about.

He exhaled sharply, shifting out from under Nevaeh’s hold and reaching for his phone.

He tapped on a new message received. The second he saw her name, his stomach flipped.

Loren.

He frowned at his own reaction. That was weird.

Still, he opened the message.

Loren: Hey - hope you're out enjoying yourself - I just wanted to let you know that thanks to you, I'm hooked on Chipotle’s and I got a separate order of your favorite if you (and any potential company 😉😉😉😉😏😏😏) might be hungry when you come in.

A grin tugged at his lips. Even the insinuation made him chuckle.

And then, just as quickly, that strange feeling crept back in.

Loren.

How was she always like this?

God, she was so caring, so thoughtful. Even with him.

It wasn’t just her coming to the game today. It wasn’t just the healthy breakfasts and dinners that she made for them. There were so many little things. The way she always made sure that when she brought William little treats from some obscure place that there was something for him too.

William had once mentioned how Loren tried to make sure that he and Alex had their space to do their things together. She never wanted anyone to feel like she was encroaching on their time together. She understands how important our relationship is, William had explained.

Alex had been baffled by that at first. Almost suspicious at times thinking that it was set up. That she would turn into this overly demanding, over-bearing, attention seeking girlfriend.

That hasn’t happened.

Loren genuinely cared. About William. About their family. About him.

And the fucked-up thing? He liked how that felt.

Alex exhaled, locking his phone before he let himself think too hard about it.

"I should head out - not feeling great," he muttered, already grabbing his underwear and his pants.

Nevaeh barely looked up. "Mmm, Alex - let me come home with you. It’ll take me 10 minutes just to grab a few things."

*"*Not this time - got family visiting,” Alex countered, which wasn’t true — the family was arriving the next day.

She pouted, running her nails down his stomach. "Oh c’mon…..families love me, and I want to meet your dogs…they’re soooo cute."

Alex huffed a laugh. Sure she did.

Was it that she was confident? Or plain delusional.

“Maybe another time. I think I’m coming down with something… been going around on the Leafs too," Alex mumbled, already pulling on his jacket.

Nevaeh pouted, tugging at his wrist. "Fine. But next time, I wanna meet your brother."

Alex didn’t bother responding. He just grabbed his keys and walked out

—

It was a Saturday night—a night for celebrating, for drinking, for being out with his teammates and countless available women.

Yet for Alex, all he felt was the pull to go home.

He sat in the Porsche, the low idle of the engine filling the quiet space around him.

The club had been an option. Hell, it was still an option. He could turn around right now, meet up with his teammates, let himself get lost in the music, the booze, the girls who were always eager to celebrate a win or to soothe a loss.

But tonight somehow was different. Tonight, the only place he wanted to be was home.

What remained an issue in his mind - he was sat there not because he was tired. Nor was it because the post-sex emptiness with Nevaeh pissed him off.

He hated to admit it but he wanted to be home because of Loren.

Alex ran a hand through his hair, sighing as he stared out the windshield, the underground parking garage dimly lit around him.

Loren was William’s girl. That was unshakable. Undeniable.

She loved his brother in a way that made it clear there wasn’t a single other man on the planet for her.

And Alex? He would never—could never—betray William like that.

So why the hell was he here instead of out celebrating?

His fingers drummed against the steering wheel, thoughts circling, twisting, refusing to settle.

Maybe it was that he needed comfort instead of clubbing tonight.

Maybe he just liked having her around.

Maybe it was nice to talk to someone who wasn’t trying to use him, or compare him to his brother, or get something out of him.

And maybe, for the first time in a long time, that felt better than anything else.

Alex groaned, shaking his head. Jesus. What the fuck am I even thinking?

He grabbed the keys, cut the engine, and climbed out of the car.

When he got upstairs, Loren would be there. Probably curled up on the couch, watching the Leafs game, waiting for William to get back.

And for Alex - Alex was just going to walk in, sit down, and act like nothing was different.

Even if everything felt different.

The minute he walked in - he realized he had been building up an idea in his head that dissipated the second he saw her. She looked exactly as he envisioned her to be. Curled up on the couch, watching the Leafs and her beloved, his brother, try to win a hockey game.

She game him a warm smile when Alex appeared from around the corner. “They’re down 3-2.”

“Ooof, fuck.” Alex’s focus immediately went to the time remaining in the 3rd period as he stretched out on the opposing end of the couch. “Woller will be coming out soon.”

Loren covered her eyes. “See - I’m not good in these games…I can’t watch. I’ll grab you a glass of wine if you want?”

Alex chuckled. “Yeah - sure, go make your escape…some red would be great.” Relief washed over him as he sat and watched the dying minutes of the game. He felt okay - he felt in control, and he felt that whatever emotions he had going on earlier that night were circumstantial and very temporary.

Loren called from the kitchen asking Alex if he wanted his Chipotle’s warmed up.

Suddenly starving, Alex called back “Ja, tack.” A minute later, she heard him loudly mutter to her from the living room “Fuck - empty netter. Well, that’s that. 4-2.”

Loren walked back in and set down a coaster and a glass of wine for Alex and herself.

"Tack. Ser du? Kanske hade de kvitterat om du inte hade gått," Alex teased. "William tappade pucken med sex sekunder kvar." ("Thanks. See? Maybe they would have tied it if you hadn't left," Alex teased. "William lost the puck with 6 seconds left.")

"Oh no—jag borde ha stannat... Fan också, jag visste det..." ("Oh no—I should have stayed... God damn it, I knew it...")

"Jag säger till William att det är ditt fel..." ("I'm telling William it's your fault...")

Loren gasps feigning disbelief. "Du skulle aldrig...!" ("You would never...!")

Alex shrugs, taking a sip of his wine. "Mmm... jag vet inte..." ("Mmm... I don’t know...")

Loren grabs a throw pillow and smacks him with it. “Vilken liten skit…,” (”Such a little brat”).

Alex laughs and mockingly whines that she messed his hair up. Yeah, this was better that going out he thinks.

The timer on the oven sounded and soon after Alex retrieved his food, he returned to his spot with a glass of water. As he blew the steam off of his fork, he started asking Loren questions, mostly about little things at first - what she ordered for herself when she decided to pick him up something, if she’ll maybe come back to another Marlies game (he joked it might make William a little jealous if she started attending more games of Alex’s), if she’s finished Christmas shopping for William yet.

Loren answered each one, her typical buoyant personality - skirting around the William getting jealous if she went to see Alex play more with absolute modesty with “I highly doubt William would get jealous,” followed by a chuckle. She mentioned she was concerned about his Christmas gifts, confiding in Alex that she often worries that her gifts might be underwhelming.

'If I had the means, I’d buy him the world,' she admitted, her cheeks turning red. 'But I just… can’t.”

Alex didn’t know why that hit the way it did.

Maybe because women in his orbit seemed to want a guy who could buy them the world.

But Loren? She just wanted to give William everything.

And for some reason, that sat with him longer than he expected.

Alex shook his head, swallowing the last bite. “Awh - don’t worry, if it comes from you, he’ll love it. Trust me.”

Loren cocked an eyebrow. “That’s the kind of thing that people say while they’re bracing themselves to receive something that they’re never going to like in a million years,” her shoulders shaking as she let out a low giggle.

Alex chuckled. “Okay, so what’re one of his gifts then?”

Loren tried to stifle a smile, a mischievous glint in her eye. “Same thing as I got you.”

Alex’s expression showed intrigue. He sat back against a pillow and let his stomach rest from all the food he just ate. “Oh yeah, what’s that then?”

Without missing a beat, she smirked “Dayglo Condoms and a vibrating cock ring.”

Alex’s eyes grew wide as he started to laugh.

Loren covered her face, her cheeks hot to the touch. “Yeah, I gotta cut myself off for tonight, that last glass of wine…” Loren giggled.

She stood up and offered to take Alex’s glass. “Nah, thanks though. The wine’s going down a little too easily - I’m gonna have more.”

Loren laughed and shook her head again. “Sorry, I have the humour of a 9 year old boys sometimes - the going down easily comment…ah, sorry, don’t mind me.”

“Yeah… you’re cut off, you loon," Alex chuckled. His laugh was something else—apparently even more unique than William’s at times.

“Alright then Alex, good night,” Loren smiled.

“Night Loren. Thanks again for coming today and for dinner. It was really nice of you to do that,” Alex replied softly.

“Anytime,” Loren replied with a small nod. He heard her pad to the kitchen, wash her glass quickly and then into William’s bedroom seconds later.

Alex exhaled as he leaned his head on the back of the couch. He now has seen a glimpse - a mere glimpse - of what Loren is like naturally, just on her own. God, this is why he’s never seen his brother quite as happy, quite at ease, quite as open and loving the way he’s been since Loren has been around. She really was like a breath of fresh air.

The realization that Alex might be looking for that kind of connection - for the kind of love, understanding and devotion that Loren has, not just for William but his whole life…it hit him in that moment.

Alex stayed up for awhile - gaming, messaging, texting, swiping…all half-heartedly. He downed another glass of wine while watching the highlight reels of all the Saturday night games that had ended.

Around 1:30am, William arrived home. Pablo and Banksy b-lined it for the couch where Alex lay fast asleep - snoring with his mouth agape. He was jolted awake with Banksy climbing onto his chest, Alex groggily giving him a rub and setting him aside as he stood up from the couch and stretched.

Immediately the brothers caught each other up from the last 24-36 hours - Alex’s stellar performance versus a less than stellar one from his older brother, most of their family arriving tomorrow, and the oddly scheduled 5pm Sunday afternoon game, Leafs versus Buffalo. Alex even gave William a quick run-down of his hook-up, passing over the part that she wanted to meet William too. Him coming home instead of heading to the club where others on the team were just leaving.

“So what - you and Loren hung out?” William asked as he scarfed down part of Alex’s leftovers.

“Not for long really," Alex shrugged, maybe a little too casually. "She picked up some food for me just in case, and yeah—when I got home, we watched the rest of the game. Well, I did,” Alex chuckled, correcting himself. “She hid in the kitchen hoping you’d score if she wasn’t watching.”

“Didn’t work,” William joked.

“That’s what I told her. She even tried to call me a little shit or something in Swedish,” Alex smiled.

William grinned thinking about Loren and her potty mouth…in Swedish even. She’s been practicing…that’s my girl he thought.

For a split second, William thought about asking Alex what he thought of Loren—not because he was even remotely concerned. Not even a little bit. It would just make him happy to hear that Alex sees all the good in her. Given the hour, William shelved the thought…Loren was in his bed and he could hardly wait to be alone with her.

The brothers said their goodnights, and Pablo and Banksy followed William down the hallway to his bedroom. And once again, the condo was quiet and Alex was by himself.

With another back to back game against Bakersfield at 4pm that afternoon, Alex meandered down to his bedroom. He was tired and for a moment thought that all of the buildup surrounding Loren in his mind might just be from his tired mind taking Loren’s kindness and turning it into something else.

Alex shut off the water, catching the faint murmur of William’s voice through the walls as he walked into his bedroom. He smirked at the sound of his brother’s unmistakable laugh. Sliding into bed, he flipped onto his side, wrapping himself around a larger stuffed pillow.

Although he had achieved a satifactory release with Neveah earlier on, a familiar need reentered Alex. He tried to push out the images and thoughts of the women he’s “connected with” lately, knowing sleep was necessary, especially in a back to back game situation.

As he lay there, with the distant hum of traffic in the background, he soon heard what could only be a bed shifting back and forth, and it certainly wasn’t his. The pace of the sound was steady at first but gradually increased, mixed with the faint moans of two voices.

Exasperated, Alex grabbed his earbuds and sought out a distraction, the blood flow to his own cock starting to build pressure. He saw his ex-girlfriend Isla’s green dot indicating she was online. He tapped out a quick message to her…she was someone that really knew Alex well, and he needed that familiarity too.

Phone sex wasn’t ideal, but in a pinch, Isla obliged, lounging through a lazy Sunday morning in Stockholm. In some ways, it was nice to have someone—someone who knew him as well as she did, even if they weren’t always good for each other. Even if they weren’t together anymore.

After this impromptu rendezvous with Isla, Alex cleaned himself up and ventured out to the kitchen one last time. He jumped when he saw the refrigerator light illuminating Loren’s figure as she grabbed two ice packs from the freezer.

Loren jumped when she spotted Alex, giggling from the sudden jolt of fright that he gave her.

Alex gave a crooked smiled her way. “His knees?” nodding towards the ice packs.

Loren smiled sheepishly. “I swear, I didn’t break him - yeah, it’s his knees.”

Alex smiled and nodded. “He’s lucky he’s got you here to take care of him when he needs it,” he remarked warmly. “I’m not very sympathetic.”

Loren paused and looked at Alex with a knowing smile. “Ah, you are….it’s absolutely there - it’s just a flag you choose to not fly as high.”

God, she really is great he thought.

“Night, Alex…have a good sleep,” Loren said softly, before padding back towards William’s bedroom.

He was thankful their family was arriving later that morning. He needed the distraction. The noise. The chaos. The sublime madness of a full Nylander house leading up to the holidays.

Anything to help him tuck away this ridiculous little crush and pretend it had never happened.

[tellyouily]

fall right back to you

dnf - fluff - 900 words

read on ao3

-

Dream’s office is colder than his, and purple rather than George’s dark blue from the LED lights framing the ceiling.

He has his headphones on, his eyes no doubt fixed on the portion of the video he’s in the middle of editing, and it’s probably because of this that he doesn’t notice George coming in.

George closes the door behind himself and steps closer to the desk. It takes him one look at the monitor to Dream’s right to see that he still has X open, still showing the black screen of the stream George just ended. So he was listening. George smiles a little at that; he had a feeling Dream probably stuck around after he stopped texting him.

He touches the top of the chair, and Dream looks up quickly.

“Oh, hey. You scared me,” he says, but he’s smiling. He pulls his headphones down to rest around his neck.

“Sorry,” George says, letting his fingers slip into Dream’s messy curls. “You stayed for the whole thing?”

Dream nods, stretching. “I did. It was nice.”

He reaches out and strokes his hand across George’s lower back, over his t-shirt.

“You should start a podcast or something. You’d be good at it.”

George shakes his head, managing to suppress his smile even as Dream starts to laugh.

“Idiot,” he says, pinching Dream’s nape just lightly. He deserves it. Kind of.

Dream responds by leaning backwards in his chair and grabbing hold of his spare office chair, pulling it closer for George to sit.

“Sit,” he says. “I’ve missed you today.”

It makes for an easy decision – George’s favorite type of decision, coincidentally.

He sits, using his feet (and great effort) to roll the chair closer to Dream’s, and placing his legs in Dream’s lap, having to bend his knees over the stupid armrests to make it possible. It’s suboptimal, for sure, but it will have to do.

Both of Dream’s hands instantly come to rest on his calves, squeezing once.

“Tired?” Dream asks, gazing at him openly.

The look in his eyes, and his whole demeanor, really, tells George that out of the two of them, Dream is easily the one who is the most tired. But Dream is right, too – George is a little exhausted.

He closes his eyes for a moment, nodding. When he opens them again the world has gone a little blurry from his bleariness.

“Yeah, a bit,” he says

Dream encloses his hands around George’s ankles, his palms warm against the tiny sliver of skin between George’s sweatpants and his socks.

Looking at him now, George realizes that Dream looks… good. Like, in a noticeable way – a level of good that exceeds his usual level which George has gotten somewhat used to and somewhat less abnormal about. Somewhat. The second thing he realizes is that he doesn’t recognize the hoodie Dream is wearing. It’s dark gray and expensive looking. And nice. It makes Dream look really nice.

“I like your hoodie,” George says, because he does.

Dream looks surprised, but only for a split second before a smile takes over his features. He sounds a little suspicious, though, when he says, “Thanks.”

“Is it new?”

Dream nods, sparing a quick glance down at it. “Uhm, yeah. I think so, anyway.”

George clicks his tongue. “Trick question, I already knew it was.”

He did – Dream has many hoodies, but none in this shade of gray. As the Dream expert, George thinks he’s pretty much qualified to be certain of these things.

Dream laughs. “You are so weird.”

George doesn’t let it faze him. “I know every single piece of clothing you own,” he says instead. Because he does.

“Wow, so impressive,” Dream says, still laughing.

“It is,” George agrees, pressing his lips together solemnly. “I have an archive.”

To this, Dream nods slowly, which George appreciates. His detailed cataloguing of Dream facts should be admired and applauded, most of all by Dream.

“Alright, I’ll make sure to tell you next time I buy something, then. For your archive,” Dream says, not sounding entirely earnest, but George will take it.

“For my archiving purposes,” he echoes. “Yeah, you better.”

Dream just looks at him then, smiling through to his eyes. And George knows that face, would know it anywhere. He knows exactly what Dream is thinking. He narrows his eyes.

“I’m not kissing you.”

It makes Dream laugh, again. “What? Why not?”

“You’re gross.”

Dream snorts.

George smiles. “I don’t know where your lips have been. You might’ve licked the toilet since I last saw you for all I know.”

His ankle gets a gentle squeeze. “If I tell you, will you kiss me?”

“No.”

Dream raises his eyebrows. “Fine. I guess you hate me.”

It’s not that he means it, of course – he’s being an idiot, actually – but George won’t stand for such accusations. Especially not after Dream has said he missed him today, and especially not now that he’s wearing this hoodie which makes him look so extra kissable.

George leans forward, closing the short distance between them, and pecks Dream on the lips. One second and then it’s over, but Dream’s immediate smile is proof that it did in fact happen.

“I knew it,” he says.

George laughs, shifting closer to him subconsciously. “Knew what? That you’re an idiot?”

Smiling like he’s won, Dream only shrugs. “I just knew it.”

Luckily for him, George is not above kissing him again to get the answers he needs.

[cowboylikesubai]

reblog if you were personally victim to the 2024 anime phase comeback

[sayaratyriea]

i am craving Creative Activity so badly but law school sucked away my spoons to write by myself… so i’m reliant on friends and rp… and all my friends want to do is play overwatch (which i don’t play and don’t want to) or watch tv shows which is fundamentally less interesting and does not scratch the itch….. the adhd gremlins are shredding my skull from the inside out at this point :( send help

[peachsukii]

— I’ll be home for Christmas

it's the annual friend circle christmas party, hosted at kirishima and mina's apartment. the only downside? your boyfriend, bakugo, is stationed overseas for hero work, so this year, you'll be celebrating through a screen. at least, that's what you're expecting.

✮ content. pro hero!bakugo + pro hero!reader. christmas magic and fluff. :) a special present for my elf @lady-lauren as part of the @pixelcafe-network secret santa exchange. ♡ ♡ ♡

✮ word count: 1.1k.

Christmas Eve, the night of a traditional Christmas dinner with all of your closest friends. A pot luck buffet, secret Santa exchange, and plenty of laughs through the night as you all reminisce over your lives. There’s just one thing that’s missing this year — Bakugo. Well, missing in person.

It was an opportunity of a lifetime, one he couldn’t turn down, no matter how much he argued against it. An esteemed agency in California was accepting applications for international transfers as part of the new “Heroes Around the World” program. It wasn’t that he wasn’t thankful, or even uninterested, but Bakugo’s biggest fear was being alone. Being away from you, especially in another country. After many nights spent hyping him up to take the chance, he accepted the offer. Before you two knew it, he was jetting off to the USA for three months.

And, unfortunately, three months turned to six.

Bakugo’s not coming home until March. The US commission was so impressed by his skillset (because why wouldn’t they be?) and wanted him to train an entire new wave of sidekicks by crafting a program to mimic Japan’s Hero protocols. You couldn’t bring yourself to be selfish and have him come home, no matter how much you missed him. So, you two made it work — 17 hour time difference be damned. Early morning voice notes, late night video calls, quick texts and even little homemade letters from time to time. Bakugo became fond of your hand written letters, especially when the paper would faintly smell of your perfume or have traces of lipstick kiss marks.

When you show up to Kirishima and Mina’s home, they welcome you with open arms, chirping how they’re happy you came and how much they’ve missed you.

Everyone starts arriving over the next hour, greeting you with warmth and love like always. It’s not long until their apartment is jam packed with all of your closest friends, shuffling around the kitchen with delicious food and drinks. Everyone shoves a present under the tree in the living room for later, truly adding a layer of joy to the atmosphere. Your heart aches softly as the night progresses, missing Bakugo’s hand on your thigh under the table or around your shoulders as you chat and laugh with everyone. The plan is to have Bakugo video call Kirishima’s phone during the secret Santa exchange, that way he’d still be included when everyone swapped presents. It’ll be 2AM for him, but he insisted it’s fine.

There’s a little pang in your chest when you look under the luminescent tree in the living room and see the one with his handwriting for Jiro. ‘To: Ears — Love: Kats’ with a skull drawn next to it. It’s endearing to see his love for your friends extend across the sea so effortlessly. Midoriya takes a seat next to you on the couch before everyone else meanders into the living room for the secret Santa exchange. His eyes gleam when they meet yours, a smile tugging on his lips and accentuating the freckles on his cheeks. “How are you doing?”

You nod and tilt your head with a soft smile of your own. “It’s nice to get out and be with friends. Being home for the holidays without Katsuki was starting to get to me.”

Midoriya’s eyes soften. “I know it’s hard. Only a few more months!” Before you get a chance to think too deeply about it, Kirishima claps his hands to get everyone to quiet down.

“Alright guys! Time to exchange presents.” He pulls out his phone and sets it on the dock by the TV, the little screen displaying a pending ‘Call’ screen. It’s not long before a familiar face appears, the room erupting in a hearty cheer.

“Bakugo!”

“Shut up, don’t all yap at once!” Bakugo grumbles with a grin on his handsome face. It seems his eyes find you in the room as you shoot him a little wave, his grin settling into a longing smile. “Kirishima, get things rollin’ before my ass falls asleep.”

The room chuckles as gifts are starting to be exchanged, anything from cute pairs of socks to video games to awkward stocking stuffers. No other presents are lining the tree skirt after a half hour of celebration, but you’re left empty handed. It’s awkward, to say the least.

“Are we missing one?” Kirishima questions with a frown. “There’s no way we left you out.”

Bakugo’s face sours on the phone screen, immediately upset that you’re excluded from the tradition. “What the hell? Someone better fess up. Don’t screw with my girl’s Christmas.” Suddenly, the video freezes and hangs up, leaving everyone silent as they turn towards you. How the hell could this happen?

“Why don’t you check the entryway?” Mina advises. “Maybe it was left there by mistake.”

You stand from the couch with defeat, sulking toward the door to double check. Who had you for secret Santa? Did they not know what to get for you, or were you truly forgotten? After a quick glance in the doorway, you come up short. Guess you won’t be getting a gift this year after all.

When you return to the living room, everyone seems to be staring at you with an apologetic look on their faces. Your head is hung low, aimlessly wandering back to the couch as you plop back down on to the plush fabric.

“No luck,” you whisper. “It’s okay, though. It’s not a big deal.”

The room is silent until someone speaks up.

“Look again.”

Wait. You know that voice.

It has you whipping your head up, looking around desperately to be sure you’re not hearing things. Like magic, Bakugo appears from behind the Christmas tree in the living room, his cheeky smirk illuminated by the bright string lights.

“Merry Christmas,” Midoriya whispers next to you, his eyes glossing over with emotion. “Sorry for tricking you!”

Before you know it, you’re launching off the couch and skipping over to Bakugo, throwing your arms around him excitedly. He picks you up, swinging around in soft circles, squeezing you tight enough to take your breath away. Once he sets you down, you pull back to look at him.

“Katsuki, how—”

Bakugo cuts you off with a kiss, cradling your face in his hands. After a moment, he releases you, all the love in your body flourishing at his touch.

“Commission gave me five days off. M’all yours,” he whispers, brushing a piece of hair out of your face. “Izuku pulled some strings to get those corporate assholes to approve it.”

You turn toward Izuku, mouthing a ‘thank you’ before burrowing your face into Bakugo’s chest. God, you’ve missed the way he smells, his warmth…everything about him.

“Okay you creeps, stop starin’ already,” Bakugo jests to the group. Everyone shouts with glee, the party continuing in full swing with the whole family together — at last.

This is a Christmas you’ll never forget.

Merry Christmas, Lauren!! I hope you enjoyed it. With much love from your secret Santa, Rei <3

@slayfics @maddietries @liluvtojineteyam

@Yoyolovesdaiki @catsoupki @purplescorpi0

@jays-adventure3 @simp-plague @napbatata

@www-marianette-org @obsessedpersona @kirishimaeijiromyman

@strwbrrykthv @hayatoseyepatch @awkwardchick87

@unriding @sylushi @darhinadadragon

[dolcekissy]

disclaimer // 18+ content. this story includes oral sex, and a lot of spit ;)

─────────────────────────

you were bored ─ thumbs scrolling as you skipped through videos on tiktok. rafe invited you over just to chill in his bed and spend the night together, you loved spending time with rafe but you were fucking bored.

rafe laying down in his bed next to you, mindlessly scrolling through instagram ─ stopping to watch different reels and like pictures people posted. he stopped ─ his head snapping over to you and your phone when you gasped.

"oh my god! rafe look at this!" you shoved your phone in his face, showing him a video of a girl laughing with wide eyes ─ her mouth opened as saliva poured out of her mouth. "ew, what the fuck." he groaned out, his brows furrowing as he looked away.

"no way that shits real!" you laughed, clicking on the link to look at the little mints and reading the description. "we have to try these, that's so funny." you giggled, immediately adding it to your cart and purchasing it.

rafe scoffed and continued scrolling through his phone, "that shits not real ─ bet it's a scam or some shit."

─────────────────────────

a few days passed and your package came in the mail, you excitedly opened it and texted rafe to pick you up. you were going to surprise him and try to get him to try them with you.

rafe had totally forgotten about them, so when you pulled out a little bright package he furrowed his brows at you ─ asking you what that is.

"it's those mint tablet things i showed you ─ the ones that make you drool a lot, told you we were trying them." you giggle, opening the package and popping one in your mouth.

"you've gotta be kidding me." rafe scoffed, he looked at the little package and read the strength ─ not even a minute later you're opening the car door and laughing as saliva starts dripping down your chin and onto the ground.

"rafe! oh my god look!" you step out of his car, holding your hair back with your hands as your mouth drips and pours. rafe shakes his head and gets out of the car, walking over to you as you look up at him with a laugh.

you stick your tongue out and watch your spit pour down onto the ground with wide eyes. his eyes widened and his dick is immediately hardening when your wide eyes meet his.

"how long does that last." he asked, trying to adjust his pants as you looked down at the ground glistening in your spit. you shrug with a laugh, "i dunno ─ they said people use this for cotton mouth but i bet people use it to suck dick."

he shook his head ─ watching you close your mouth for a moment before opening it again, spit pouring down your lips and chin. you look up at him with raised eyebrows, his eyebrows raising too as he waits for you to say something.

"wanna try it?"

─────────────────────────

you're on your knees in the back of rafe's car ─ holding all the saliva that's been begging to come out as rafe eagerly pulls his sweatpants and underwear down. you quickly grab his cock with one hand and open your mouth, letting everything drip on him.

he groans at the feeling of your warm spit and the sight of you in front of him. his hands pulling your hair into a makeshift ponytail as you wrap your lips around his cock ─ your dripping tongue twirling around his pink tip.

"shittt." he groans. you begin bopping your head on his cock, feeling your spit run down and your chin and drip onto the floor of his car. he grabs his phone sitting next to him, pulling the camera app up and turning the flash on while he records you.

your eyes meet the camera lens as you let his cock hit the back of your throat ─ his groans going straight to your needy pussy. after a few moments of literally slurping on his dick, he guides your head up and down his cock before pulling your head back.

"fuckkk, m'gonna cum ─ stick your tongue out, doll."

you stick your tongue out, letting the camera watch your saliva and his warm seed drip off your tongue and onto his cock ─ the seat below him glistening and his thick cock shining.

"mmm, 's your turn rafey." you lean over, grabbing the pack and popping one into his mouth ─ immediately switching positions with him and pulling your lace panties down, your ass laying flat against the puddle of spit as you wait for him to create an even bigger puddle while he drools over your sopping pussy.

─────────────────────────

[kakashisbabymama218]

lol so this ended up being wayyy longer than i expected, just under 3k

Also, not edited so hopefully there aren’t many mistakes! If so I’ll fix it when I wake up cause ya girl is sleepy lol.

You can read part 1 here

you were barely halfway through your shift when you feel your phone vibrate in your pocket. you decide to ignore it for now, instead getting back to the task you were working on.

its ten minutes later when you're able to take your break, you head out towards the parking lot, seeing your car parked in the middle of the sea of cars and walk over towards it, unlocking the door and sitting down in the drivers seat.

you pull your phone out from your pocket and open it, noticing a new text message from katsuki. your fingers instantly click on the notification only to see its a video he sent.

you remember he said something about going to a party with eijirou and denki and figure its just a video of the three of them drunk off their ass and yelling into the camera or something like it usually is.

however, when you click play it doesn't take long for you to realize that this is not anything like the normal videos you receive. your eyes widen instantly and your head snaps up, looking back and forth and even behind you just to be safe, making sure no one else is in the parking lot before your eyes are dropping back down to your phone just in time to see katsuki pushing his pants down on his hips and his cock springing free.

your mouth waters at the sight, your legs squeezing together instinctively, eyes glued to the phone. you swallow as he takes his length into his hands, letting his hand drag up and down his dick and your ears perk up at the sound of him groaning softly in the background, hands instantly moving to turn the volume up all the way, wanting to hear each and every sounds that falls from his lips as he pleasures himself.

his thumb rubs at his tip, smearing the precum that dripped from his tip along the purplish tip and you can practically taste him on your tongue.

katsuki lets his dick go, and you watch , eyes moving along with it as if hypnotized, as it bounces up and down softly before settling. movement above catches your attention and you watch as katsuki begins racking his nails up and down his stomach, something you know he loves when you do it to him.

the hand that isn't holding your phone moves down to your legs, rubbing your thighs as you continue to watch katsuki touch himself.

you jump the first time he says something, not prepared for him to talk.

“fuckkk pretty girl—” and shit he already sounds so fucked out and he's barely even started.

your hand begins to slip inside the waistband of your pants, wanting nothing more than to give throbbing clit the attention its begging for when the quiet rumbling of an engine pulls your attention away from the video, your head raising as you see a car pull into the spot directly next to you and you immediately click out of the video, pulling up a random app you have on your phone as your cheeks heat up at the fact that you were really about to play with your pussy in the parking lot of you job.

after a minute or two you glance over at woman in the car next to you, wishing she'd hurry up and get out already so you can keep watching the video, but she's looking down at her phone and you can tell she's not going anywhere anytime soon. you let out a groan and look around the parking lot wishing she parked literally anywhere else.

your damp panties cling to you uncomfortably and you squeeze your legs together to get some sort of friction to your throbbing clit, silently reminding yourself that you are in fact in public so you cant actually make yourself cum.

the sound of a car door opening pulls you from the ache in your pants and you see the woman getting out of her car, closing the door behind herself and walking in the direction of your job.

alone again, you do another quick sweep of the parking lot, making sure there's no one around before your clicking back over to the video.

“wish it was you bouncing on this dick”

and fuck so do you, you wanna feel the fullness you feel everytime you sink down on katsuki's fat cock, the stinging stretch you feel no matter how many fingers katsuki uses to stretch you out or how long he preps you for. he's just so... thick, that it always brings a painful kind of pleasure.

 “don’t worry pretty girl, imma come stretch that pussy out when you get off”

at the reminder of your job your head raises. you take your bottom lip between your teeth, debating.

you leaving early wouldn't really be that bad, you guys were overstaffed for it to be such a slow night, and you have complete faith in your coworkers that they can handle the rest of the night without you.

it doesn't take you long to make you're decision, you're completely exiting off of the video and stuffing your phone back into your pocket, not bothering to finish the video, you'll be getting the real thing soon anyway.

you head back inside of your job, going towards your managers office and knocking. after telling her some shitty excuse about having a family emergency and how you have to go you grab your stuff, calling out a goodbye to your coworkers before you back outside and speed walking to your car.

you know katsuki is at his place because of the message he sent you after sending the video.

this party sucks. going back home, come over when you get off.

luckily his apartment wasn't too far from your job and in less than ten minutes you're pulling up to the familiar building. you park and hurry towards the door, using the key katsuki gave you to let yourself in.

you take the stairs up to the third floor, not bothering with the elevator until you're standing in front of katsuki's door. you fumble around with your keys a little before finding the right one and pushing it into the key hole, twisting it until it clicks. You walk inside, toeing your shoes off at the door.

its dark inside, the only light inside coming from the small space under katsuki's bedroom door. you hear him curse before he's calling someone a shitty extra and you figure he's playing his game.

you make your way to the door, pushing it open, flooding the dark hallway with light. katsuki's head turns at the sound of his door being opened and a surprised look crosses his face. he turns his headset off and sets it down before turning back towards you.

he glances up at the clock on the wall above your head and back down at you.

"what are you doing here so early? I thought you didn't get off for three more hours." he says but you don't respond, instead you're taking his controller in your hand and tossing it onto his bed before crawling into his lap.

your hands tangle in his blonde strands as you press your lips into his. katsuki's hands find your waist, pulling you closer as he kisses you back, his tongue swiping against your bottom lip. your lips part instantly and katsuki doesn't hesitate, pushing his tongue into your mouth and slotting it against yours.

he tastes like mint with the lingering taste of weed and you moan at the combination, tugging on his hair as you grind yourself down against his growing erection, groaning at the clothing barrier that separates the two of you.

you pull away to mess with the strands of his sweatpants, untying them before trying to push them down. katsuki lifts his hips off of the chair, helping you pull his pants down enough to free his cock.

"you didn't answer my question" he says, watching you spit in your hand before wrapping it around his length. "what are you doing here so early?"

you don't answer, too focused on pumping him fast, your grip tight as you stare down at his cock.

he takes your jaw between his hands, squeezing your cheeks together and forcing you to look up at him. the hand you have wrapped tightly around his cock pauses as you stare into his red eyes, darkened with arousal.

"don't tell me you left work early just to get some dick. fuckin cock slut."

the words are mean but they're completely true, you did leave work early to get fucked and you were a cock slut— his cock slut.

"i saw your video" you tell him, as you begin moving your hand again, slower this time but your grip still just as tight. katsuki smirks.

"yeah?" he questions, tilting his head to the side. you hear him suck in a breath when you begin thumbing at his tip, smearing his precum the same way you say him do in the video.

"yeah. got so turned on i was ready to finger myself right there in the parking lot. probably woulda if someone didn't park next to me"

katsuki's dick twitches in your hand at the mental image of your spread out in the backseat of your car, fingers pumping in and out of your tight pussy as you watch him jerk off for you.

you let out a surprised yelp when katsuki places his hands on your ass before lifting you both out of the chair, he walks the few steps over towards his bed. he tosses you onto the soft mattress before pulling his shirt over his head, tossing it somewhere in the room.

he crawls onto the bed, settling himself between your legs, his head directly in front of your clothed cunt. he drags his finger up and down your slit, feeling the warmth even through the layers of clothes you have.

in one swift motion, he has your legs pushed up with your knees by your head, pulling both your pants and panties down at the same time until they're pooling at your feet, you kick them off the rest of the way, letting the drop to the floor as katsuki takes his place between your legs once again.

the first lick against your sensitive clit was too much, after being ignored for so long the pleasure of finally being touched is almost enough to make you cum right then and there. your back arches off the bed, hands yanking at katsuki's hair.

his eyes are focused on your face, watching as your mouth falls open in a long moan when he takes your clit between his lips and starts to suck and slurp at the bundle of nerves.

"shit katsuki—fuck" you grind your hips up against his face, one of your hands coming to push your shirt and bra up over your chest, freeing your tits to the cool air circulating throughout the room, knowing katsuki likes the cold. your nipples harden even more when the cold air hits them and you take one of them between your fingers, pinching and rolling the nub as katsuki laps at your clit.

it doesn't take long— it never does, not when katsuki is sucking on your clit just right—for you to feel the familiar tightening in your tummy, your toes curling as you moan out a pathetic broken version of his name. two of katsuki's thick fingers plunge inside of you, he doesn't give you time to adjust as he curls his fingers upwards, looking for that spot that'll have you screaming out his name in seconds.

he knows he's found it when you're crying out and trying to close your legs around his head. he focuses his thrusts on the same spot, over and over again until your back is rising off the bed completely and your screaming out his name.

he continues lapping at your cunt, drinking down every drop of slick that gushes out of you as you cum on his tongue. his fingers slow down but never stop moving as he helps you ride out your orgasm. you're panting by the time he moves his head from between your legs, instead moving to lay next to you on the bed, his hand stroking his cock as he spreads his legs.

"cmon pretty girl, want you to ride me" he says, licking his lips and patting his lap.

you swing your leg over his, feeling his hard cock under your cunt and you grind back and forth, hissing and letting your head fall against his shoulder when it rubs against your overly sensitive clit.

you lift yourself up as katsuki lines himself up with your opening. you moan out in unison as you begin sinking down onto his cock. katsuki has to stop himself from wrapping his arms around you, pulling you flush against his chest and fucking up into you fast and hard.

he'll let you take the lead... for now that is.

your hands find his chest, feeling his muscles under your fingers and you barely have to think before you're dragging your fingers up and down his pecks, letting them slide down to the tiny red marks on his stomach from where he scratched himself earlier at the party.

you lift yourself up on shaky knees, before sinking right back down, still not taking the whole thing inside yet but slowly moving down inch by inch.

"fuck kats', your so big'" you whine out when you finally take him in to the hilt. you feel so full, your tight walls clenching tightly around him as you let yourself adjust to the stretch.

katsuki tisks, thrusting up into you—hard. "thought i told you to ride me" he says with hard slap to your ass. you whine out again at the sting but lift yourself up anyway. you begin properly riding him, sliding yourself up and down on his length, grinding your hips against his, moaning as your clit rubs against his pelvis.

katsuki lifts his head off of the pillow and pushes his face into your chest, taking his lips and wrapping them around you nipple, one of his hands coming up to toy with the other one.

he can tell you're getting tired when your movements become sloppy, so he takes that as his que.

"hold on tight" he murmurs against your chest.

you barely hear him, grabbing onto his shoulders at the last second before your breath is stolen right from your lungs.

katsuki wraps his arms around your middle and plants his feet on the bed below him. he holds onto you tightly as he pounds into you, the sounds of skin slapping against skin immediately bounces off the walls at the pace he fucks you.

"ka— kat-suk-iiii fuckkkkk" you cant even think straight, the feeling of katsuki's cock plunging in and out of you rapidly must have your brain all jumbled because the only thing you can think of is dick dick dick dick dick, the word repeating itself over and over again in your head as you claw at his shoulders hard enough to draw blood, but katsuki barely even notices, too busy using you as a human fleshlight to worry about something as trivial as a few drops of blood.

he's close, dick twitching deep inside of your walls and he can tell by the way your squeeze him so tightly that you're close too. he slows down, dragging himself out slowly, leaving nothing but his tip in before snapping his hips forwards, knocking the wind out of you with each thrust, trying to hang on just a little long so that the two of you can cum together.

he flips the two of you over, laying you flat against the mattress with your head resting on the pillow.

"play with your pussy" he tells you, pulling away from you just far enough to let your hand slip between your legs, fingers ghosting over your clit.

"i'm not gonna last much longer" you tell him as you apply pressure to your clit, moving your fingers in circular motions.

"me— shit, me either" he tells you, hips stuttering a bit as you clench down tightly around him, fingers speeding up the assault on your clit. "gonna cum with me pretty girl?" he asks against your neck, his lips leaving a trail of fire in their wake.

"mhmm... yeah fuck"

katsuki pulls back, angling his hips and hitting your gspot head on. thats all it takes for you to cum, body convulsing as your orgasm crashes into you, your toes curling as katsuki continues to fuck your through your orgasm.

it doesn't take long before you feel his warm seed shooting deep inside of you, pushing further inside of your walls as katsuki continues to thrust into you until he's positive he's emptied his heavy balls inside of your cunt.

you feel as it begins dripping out of your hole the second he pulls out, flopping down on the bed next to you, breathing hard and sweating. he looks over at you, a smirk pulling at the corners of his lips.

he leans down and pokes your cheek "i can't believe you really left work just to come get some dick"

[cherrygirlfriend]

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ heart-shaped cut-out

pairing: nerd!rafe x pervert!reader synopsis: reader shows rafe her new lingerie warnings: smut, masturbation (f), sexting MDNI! wc: 700 a/n; i saw the new skims heart cut-out lingerie and it was so cute i had to write something about it!! anyway it’s another completely new fic, my neighbors are partying on a tuesday but this is for my nerd!rafe girls.

masterlist ♡ pervert!reader masterlist

you opened the package you'd ordered a week before, your eyes widening in glee when you got a peek of the baby pink fabric. you clapped your hands together, carefully lifting the bralette, admiring the little heart cut-out in the middle. when you'd seen it, you immediately knew you had to have it.

it took about five minutes until you were out of your clothes and changed into the adorable lingerie set, laying on your bed as you twirled your hair biting down on your lower lip as you sent a text to rafe.

YOU: i know we're supposed to meet up in a few minutes for tutoring, but i wanted to ask if you wanted to see some new clothes i got 🥰

you rubbed yourself through the pink fabric of your thong as you waited for him to reply, looking through pictures of rafe, the fabric forming a slight wet spot while your breathing got more erratic, especially when you landed on a picture you'd sneakily taken of his hand while he had been writing down notes. but when your phone finally pinged and the notification came up, you couldn't help the mischievous grin that took over your lips.

RAFE: Sure 😊

you opened the camera app on your phone, starting to record a video. you looked at the camera, biting down on your lip with a smile, before bringing it down to your chest, cupping and squeezing your breasts. your nipples were hard and pebbled through the fabric, and you let out a soft laugh.

you slowly panned it down to the thong you were wearing, showing off the damp patch on it, but now, instead of rubbing yourself through the fabric, you slipped your finger through the heart-shaped cut-out until it met your clit, causing you to let out a slight gasp. you circled and rubbed your clit, letting out small moans for the camera, your thoughts on rafe and the reaction the video would get from him.

after a few minutes had gone by, you dipped your fingers inside of you, gathering some of your arousal and taking your hand out of your thong, showing your fingers off to the camera.

"fuck, 'm so wet..." you moaned, before stopping the video. grinning, you pulled on a sweatshirt that was lounging next to your bed, taking a picture of yourself wearing it.

you went to your messages with rafe, proceeding to send the video you'd taken, keeping your eyes on the screen, waiting for the little 'read' receipt to appear, and it took a few minutes, but once the little grey text appeared, you sent the picture of you in the sweatshirt.

YOU: oops, i sent you the wrong thing, meant to show you the sweatshirt 😅 i'll be in the library soon!

you pulled on a pair of low-waisted jeans, making sure they showed off a sliver of the pink fabric, and even though it took you ten minutes to get to the library, rafe's face was still flushed, and there was still a bulge in his chinos.

"hope i didn't take too long." you said with a coy smile, pulling back the chair and sitting down next to him, more than pleased with his reaction.

"n-no... it's all good..." rafe mumbled, looking down at his textbook. you stretched your arms over your head, letting out a feigned yawn, rafe's eyes zeroing in on the small amount of skin peeking out under your sweatshirt, the boy letting out a breath before clearing his throat, and you immediately knew he'd seen the thong you were wearing, the soaked thong you’d rubbed yourself through.

"so." you turn to him with a bright, casual smile, biting down on your lower lip in the same way you had done in the video, acting like you weren't getting off on knowing how much he wanted you as you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear before bringing your hand down to rest on the table, touching his just a tiny bit, and even the minimal contact caused his eyes to widen.

"what are you gonna teach me today, rafey?

[luveline]

Hi Jade! (I’ve sent this before so ignore if you aren’t into it) just thinking about a bau!reader (maybe shy!reader??) who’s dating post-prison Spencer but didn’t know him before prison and she sees some footage of season one Spencer (maybe they need to refer to a recording of a previous case?) and she’s just dying at how cute he is 🥹

You’ve barely woken up with your face in a solid shoulder when Spencer’s turning around.

“Don’t,” he says when you whine, slipping a familiar hand over your hip. “I’m not going anywhere.” 

“Too early to make fun of me.” 

“Do you think I’m making fun of you?” 

His talking warms your nose where his head is angled down. Your skin smarts with goosebumps as he trails his hand lightly up your back, down again, the slowest, tumbling touch. You shiver, and Spencer, ever so slightly devious in love, says, “Oh, you’re cold?” with great pity as he pulls you closer. 

You rub your face against his shoulder. “Sorry.” 

“Why?”

“I smell.” 

He hums. “Sort of. Not like sweat, though. You smell like sleep.” His lips touch your cheek.

He lets you ‘warm up’ in his arms for a few minutes, then however long you doze for, lost and too comfortable to bother even trying to wake up properly. Your phone pings a couple of times after it comes out of sleep mode, a sure sign you’ve overslept, but Spencer doesn’t make you move until your stomach growls. 

“Come on,” he says, kissing your nose and slipping you back onto your side of the bed. “I’ll make breakfast.” 

“It’s nearly twelve.” 

“You just woke up, and it’s the first thing you’re gonna eat. You are breaking your fast. Breakfast.” He looks pretty even through achy, tired eyes, all the sleep crusted in your lashes no match for Spencer Reid. How you went so long without knowing him is a mystery. 

You get up only because he told you to and because he looked quite lovely when he did it, not because you want to. The bed is warm, that pit of his arms calling your name, but Spencer’s already rolling out of bed with an eager hand scratching through his hair. Sweat has made them tight and a little darker in the back. You’ll both have to shower at some point, preferably after he’s made you breakfast in bed. 

He can see your expectations on your face, and he laughs as he pulls a t-shirt on over his head. “Get up! I’m not bringing it up here, do you know how badly your sleep cycle is affected when you start doing the wrong things in bed?” 

“What counts as the wrong thing?” 

Spencer laughs again, softer now, and for a moment he traces your face with his eyes without speaking. “Fine,” he says, waving a hand at you as he makes for the bedroom door, “stay there. But only ‘cos you look so pretty!” 

“Thank you!” you call back. 

This time with Spencer isn’t enough. You need ten more years of this, thirty, fifty, you need to wake up in his arms and have him touch you and tickle your cheek with his breath. He’s too far to have him come back, so you resign to hugging him when he returns. 

Your phone pings again, drawing your attention finally. The first notification is a reminder to buy toothpaste today at the grocery store. The second is a text from a friend, the third an email. It’s one from last night that piques your interest, another friend, full capital letters: HELP. 

Her use of a laughing emoji defers any urgency. You click on the text thread and scroll up, puzzled by her previous messages, a link, and a caption: oh my god he was so dorky??? 

You open the video and feel your breath catch in surprise. 

Is that Spencer?

You're not stupid, you’ve seen photos of him and his friends together dotted around the apartment from over the years, and every time you come across that photo of him and Diana at a spelling bee with his huge black-framed glasses you have to laugh, but it’s different seeing him to hearing him. 

He’s so nervous. You can’t understand what it is he’s saying, something about mathematical components to profiling criminals. Jason Gideon stands in the background watching him closely. 

“There’s actually a good joke that–”

“Spencer,” Gideon reprimands. 

You watch in awe as Spencer stammers an apology, his cheeks a little pink. You’ve seen Spencer blush, but this feels different. He looks so young. His hair is straight as a pin. 

“Spencer, did you used to straighten your hair?” you call, hoping he can hear you over the sound of a frying pan popping in the kitchen. “Or do you have a perm now, or what?” 

“What!” 

“I’m confused on the logistics of your hair!” You feel something weird in your chest as on screen Spencer tucks a stray strand of hair behind his ear. It’s a mixture of wanting to eat him and wanting to reach through the screen to stroke his cheek with your thumb. 

Spencer treks back into the bedroom with his pink and white pinstripe apron over his shirt and sweatpants. He smells like cinnamon sugar already. “What are you talking about?” 

“My friend found a video of you and Jason at one of those lectures you did.” 

Spencer presses his lips together. For a moment, he doesn’t speak. “I didn’t do any lectures.”

“Uh, yes you did, liar, and you looked so cute.” You turn your phone to him. “So sweet.” 

He marches to the bed. Before you can stop him, he’s taking the phone from your hand, giving you the world's silliest, tiniest shove when you try to get it back. 

“Cruel,” you quip. 

Spencer stares at the phone screen, then you, “Sorry,” he says, turning pink, “I don’t know why I did that, just– I just–” He frowns deeply. “Can you stop smiling like that?” 

You climb onto your knees, a morning disaster, but when you wrap your arms around Spencer’s waist he looks at you like you’re perfect. His eyes soften, brows relaxing, his irises like dark dimes that slowly dilate as he looks you over. Your phone presses into your back, his arm wrapping around you. 

“You were adorable,” you say sincerely. 

“Not anymore?” 

You rub your cheek against his apron. “No, you still are. Let me watch the video again.” 

“Not a chance.” 

[ivyues]

Unlocked Trust: Stray Kids' reactions to the sharing of a phone PIN

Bang Chan

You’re in the kitchen preparing a snack when your phone buzzes on the counter.

“Chris, can you check that? My hands are full,” you call out.

“Sure,” he says, walking over.

“The pin’s 0921,” you add casually.

He freezes, eyes widening for a moment before he chuckles. “Wait, did you just give me your PIN without hesitation?”

“Yeah, why?” you reply, glancing at him.

“No reason. Just didn’t think you’d trust me that much,” he teases, smirking as he unlocks the phone.

“Are you seriously doubting my trust now?” you quip, rolling your eyes.

He checks the message, his expression softening as he reads it. “It’s your mom. She says hi. By the way, I’m remembering your PIN as proof of my VIP access.”

Lee Know

“Minho, can you look at my calendar real quick? I think I have an appointment tomorrow, but I can’t remember the time,” you say, restricted by the cat in your arms.

“Where’s your phone?” he asks.

“On the couch. Pin’s 0412.”

He picks it up, muttering, “If this isn’t my birthday, I’ll be disappointed.”

“Why would it be your birthday?”

“Because you should’ve honored me with such a privilege,” he deadpans.

You laugh, shaking your head. “You’re ridiculous.”

He quickly checks the calendar, then grins at you. “Yeah, 3 PM tomorrow. Oh, and I’m changing your PIN to my birthday now.”

“Excuse me?” you tease, pretending to be offended. “You think I’m just going to hand over my PIN to you like that?”

He raises an eyebrow, locking your phone with a smirk. “You trust me, don’t you?”

Changbin

He’s driving while you’re in the passenger seat, and his phone buzzes.

“Can you reply to that text for me?” he asks.

“Sure, what’s your PIN?”

“0309,” he says casually.

You pause, typing it in. “Isn’t that your mom’s birthday?”

“Yeah,” he admits with a grin. “She’s the queen of my life. But you’re a close second.”

“Wow,” you say, pretending to be offended. “Second place, huh?”

He laughs, glancing at you. “Fine, you’re tied for first. Happy now?”

You give him a side-eye, smirking. “Tied for first? I’ll take it… for now.”

He chuckles, eyes back on the road. “Don’t worry. You’re first in my heart.”

Hyunjin

You’re folding laundary when you realize your phone is across the room.

“Jinnie, can you put on some music? My phone’s over there.”

“Sure. What’s the password?”

“1010,” you say, not looking up.

“1010? That’s so symmetrical. Why?”

“Because it’s easy to remember,” you reply.

He types it in, then teases, “Guess I should memorize this for emergencies. Or when I need to snoop.”

You laugh. “Snoop all you want. My search history is just memes and dog videos.”

He swipes through your phone, humming along to the music that starts playing. You glance at him, amused by how he seems to have completely settled in. “Just don’t start getting any funny ideas with my PIN.”

However, since that day, you've noticed a significant increase in selfies of your boyfriend filling your camera roll.

Han

He’s lying on the couch, arms wrapped around a giant pillow, while his phone buzzes on the coffee table.

“Jisung, your phone’s ringing.”

“Can you answer it for me?” he mumbles sleepily.

“What’s your PIN?”

“4321,” he says, eyes still closed.

You laugh as you unlock it. “Seriously? 4321? That’s your password?”

“Yeah, what’s wrong with it?”

“Nothing,” you tease, “except a toddler could guess it.”

He opens one eye and grins. “But you’re the only one who knows now, so it’s genius.”

You raise an eyebrow, a playful smirk on your face. “Genius, huh? I’ll make sure to tell everyone you’re a mastermind.”

He groans, pulling the pillow over his face with a dramatic sigh. “That's how you abuse my trust.”

You laugh, putting his phone back onto the couch. “Your secret’s safe with me. But just so you know, this is going down as one of your most questionable moves.”

Felix

You’re baking cookies, hands sticky with dough, when your phone buzzes on the counter.

“Lix, can you check my phone? I think it’s a text from my sister.”

“Yeah, what’s your code?”

“0420,” you say.

He snorts as he unlocks it. “Isn’t that the date we first met?”

You grin. “Yep. Thought you’d like that.”

He looks at the text, then smiles warmly. “Your sister says hi and asks when we’re baking together again.”

“Tell her whenever she wants,” you say.

He leans in, brushing a kiss to your cheek. “Will do. And by the way, I like how you made our first meeting a memorable one… for both of us.”

Seungmin

You’re sitting on the couch, scrolling through your laptop, when your phone buzzes beside you.

“Seungmin, can you check my phone? I think it’s a notification from work.”

“Sure. What’s your PIN?”

“0525,” you say casually.

He freezes, then smirks. “That’s not my birthday, is it?”

You laugh. “No, it’s my dog’s birthday.”

“Of course it is,” he mutters, unlocking the phone. “I guess I shouldn’t expect to rank higher than your dog.”

You glance up, teasing. “It’s almost the same thing, right?”

He raises an eyebrow, a little smirk playing at his lips. “Me and your dog? Really?”

“Yeah, well, my dog’s loyal, cute, and always there when I need cuddles,” you reply.

“Okay, okay,” he sighs dramatically, “I’ll take second place… but I’m keeping my spot as your favorite human.”

You grin. “Tied for first, remember?”

He looks at you, still smiling. “I’ll take it.”

I.N

You’re sitting on the couch, reading a book when your phone buzzes on the coffee table.

“Innie, can you check my phone? I think I got a message from the group chat.”

“Sure. What’s your PIN?”

“0802,” you say absently.

He freezes for a moment, eyes wide, then grins. “Isn’t that my birthday?”

“Yep,” you reply, still focused on your book.

He chuckles, his voice light with excitement. “I can’t believe you gave me your PIN so easily. I guess I’m extra special, huh?”

“You’re the only one who knows it now,” you say teasingly, glancing at him.

He laughs, checking your phone. “It’s from the group chat, asking when we're all hanging out next. And don’t worry, I’ll keep your PIN secret… unless I need to buy something nice for myself.”

You roll your eyes. “I’ll be sure to remember that.”

masterlist