#circuits & slippers

[dragonbadgerbooks]

October Fun Day Book Photo Challenge: October 21, 2023 Back to the Future Day

[slutzforbueckers]

SHES SAFE WITH ME—CHAPTER 2

♡— pairing: paige bueckers x fem!reader

♡— warnings: smut

♡— synopsis: you accidentally walked in on paige in the bathroom and as the day went on things just got more awkward until they couldn’t.

♡— word count: 7.6k

♡— a/n: the longgggggg awaited chapter two. you already know it’s not proofread at all but anyway enjoy!!!!!

the sun was blaring in your face when you woke up. you groaned as you attempted to slowly blink open your eyes, the sun’s bright light making you close them immediately and turn over. the house was still quiet so you knew it had to still be early, or maybe you’d just slept late and everyone else had left—you weren’t sure. you let out a small groan and blindly felt around for your phone, you pulled it from under your pillow and cracked your eyes open to check the time. 7:57. not bad, you thought.

the birds were chirping extra loud this morning and the roosters sounded like they were right outside your window. you definitely didn’t miss that part about being home again. you figured since it was still pretty early you’d try to get another hour of sleep so you pulled the blankets back up and closed your eyes again.

everything was going great—your body had relaxed again, your mind was already creating some wild dream you’d forget the second you opened your eyes again—but then you felt that pressure in your bladder. you had to pee…really, really bad. you rolled your eyes at the bad timing and rolled over again, sitting up this time.

as you sat on the side of the bed you debated on whether you should really get up or lay back down, but then you remembered some tiktok you saw the other day about the effects of holding your pee and decided to get up. you slid your feet into your pink bunny slippers—the ones you’d had since you were a sophomore in high school—and made your way out of your room.

you walked down the hallway still rubbing your eyes and yawning. the hallway was dim and quiet, you could hear the hum of the a/c unit running but that was all. there was no evidence that anyone else was awake yet so you didn’t bother knocking on the bathroom door before entering. when the door swung open you froze—you were met with the sight of paige standing in the middle of the bathroom, towel wrapped only around her waist, her tits on full display.

steam was still swirling around in the air, the mirror was fogged up, and there were still droplets clinging to her skin—running down her collarbone and into the valley of her breast. her hair was pulled back into a messy bun with a few wet strands falling out.

“oh my god!” you choked out, snapping back into reality from whatever raunchy fantasy your brain had came up with. paige looked up and even though she didn’t say anything her skin flushed a shade of red. she wasn't really embarrassed, how could she be when there was a pretty girl staring at her body like it was the first one she’d ever seen—she was amused. your lips were parted and your eyes were wide but it was like your brain short circuited and didn’t send the signal to your body for you to close the door or even look away.

you knew you probably should’ve looked away but you literally couldn’t. what made it worse was that you weren’t even looking at her face—no, you’re eyes were trained on her abs and chest. paige clearly didn’t mind the gawking—she was quite enjoying it actually. the way your eyes couldn’t focus on one thing, how your eyes were filled with embarrassment and curiosity, and most of all how you hadn’t thought to close the door since you opened it.

“you gonna keeping standing there or…” paige smirked as she trailed off, making no effort to cover herself up or anything. she couldn’t lie and say that the way you were looking at her—like you almost wanted to jump her bones right then and there—wasn’t turning her on. she probably would’ve invited you in if she didn’t have to worry about krystal looking for her, or even just krystal at all.

“right—i’m so sorry—“ you rushed out as you quickly closed the door and you could hear her start to laugh on the other side. you closed your eyes for a second but when you saw the image of paige standing there half naked you opened them again immediately.

“i’m never getting over this.” you mumbled to yourself as you shook your head and made your way back to your room, you didn’t even have to pee anymore. as soon as your bedroom door closed you fell back against it, your head tipping back against it with soft huff. things would be awkward between you now, you knew that for sure, so now all you had to do was come up with a plan.

you could stay in your room all day, locked away with no chance of seeing her, or you could jump out the window and hope you die—either one worked for you. the image would never leave your mind now, every time you looked at her you would see her standing in the bathroom with nothing but a towel.

it would haunt you—become something you saw in your dreams every time you went to sleep. it would follow you all the way back to college. maybe that was being dramatic but you didn’t care.

you walked to the end of your bed and sank down, laying on your back and spreading your arms out above you. you stared at the ceiling for a while, contemplating if you wanted to crawl back into bed or continue on with the day. finally, you decided you’d call your childhood friend and make plans that’ll keep you out of the house all day.

paige on the other hand—she was just as flustered as you, she just didn’t show it. she also knew things would be awkward between you now but she would try her best to act normal and not like she wished she would’ve pulled you into the bathroom and had her way with you.

it’s crossed her mind more than she’d admit—fucking you untill you couldn’t remember your own name—but she had to be normal about it. she couldn’t be obvious about the fact she wanted to fuck her girlfriends daughter.

that would just be…wrong.

there were three loud knocks at your door before it swung open. you turned around and faced her, dropping your makeup brush onto the vanity. krystal waltzed in with a big smile on her face and stood behind you. “great, you’re already up. paige and i want brunch so we’re going down to that little cafe right down the street. care to join?”

the mention of paige made your skin crawl. you turned back towards the mirror and picked up your lip liner, trying to focus on something other than the memory of seeing her naked. you shrugged your shoulders and glanced at krystal through the mirror.

“oh, i already have plans.” you said as you brought the liner up to your lips. krystal sucked her teeth and placed her hand on her hip—giving you that look she always did when your answer wasn't the one she wanted to hear. you rolled your eyes because you should’ve known you weren’t being given a choice in the first place. “right…i’ll be ready in 15.”

“good answer, bug.” she patted your shoulders and gave you a quick kiss on the top of your head before walking out. as soon as the door closed you let out a soft huff because now not only did you have to cancel your plans, you had to face paige for nearly an hour.

you stared blankly into the mirror for a minute—trying to figure out why you came home in the first place—before picking up your phone and calling your friend, tay, on facetime. the phone rang for a minute before it beeped, you scrunched up your face and called again. this time it only rang a couple of seconds and she picked up—you rolled your eyes because, of course, her phone was on dnd so that’s why she didn’t answer the first time.

“i’m on my way! i promise—I just had to get in one more game.” tay rushed out, her locs falling in her face when she bent down to grab her other shoe. you propped your phone up on your vanity and leaned back in your seat with a small huff.

“i can’t go. it’ll have to be some later time.” you frowned. tay’s head snapped up, she looked at you confused and gave you that ‘what gives’ look. you straightened back up and grabbed your eyebrow brush. “mom is making me go to brunch with her and paige. i told her i already had plans but she gave me that look.”

“why’d you say “paige” like that? didn’t you have the hots for her like—12 hours ago.” tay questioned as she walked back to her couch to start up another game of call of duty. you forgot you hadn’t told her about the whole bathroom incident this morning—you were too shocked to tell her.

“oh, right—so, i walked in on paige in the bathroom this morning.” you said, trying to make your voice sound nonchalant even though your heart started racing just thinking about it. tay paused—you heard the soft clicks of her fingers moving on her controller stop—but you didn’t looked at her, you kept your focus to fixing up your eyebrows.

“you did what?!” she exclaimed, picking her phone so quick you might’ve gotten whiplash if you would've felt it.

you shrugged your shoulders—you were trying to not make it sound like such a big deal but in all honesty, now that you had the chance to talk about it you thought you might combust if you didn’t ever last detail out.

“okay, i didn’t mean to do it at all. so i woke up this morning and i had to pee and like it was still pretty early—i figured everyone was still asleep and i didn’t even hear anything while i was walking to the bathroom. anyways, i didn’t knock on the door—because i didn’t think anyone was up—and then when i opened it there she was. standing there with nothing but a towel wrapped around her waist.”

“wait a minute—you saw her naked?” tay asked, her jaw dropping because even though she is pretty dramatic this situation definitely deserves some jaw dropping. you nodded your head with a tight lipped smile. “wowzers. you saw the paige bueckers naked—your stepmom paige bueckers.”

“well, i didn’t see everything. just her tits, but still—how am i supposed to sit through brunch without it being awkward?” you groaned as you shoved all your makeup back into your drawer, you never did care about it being a mess. tay whistled and shook her head, letting her phone drop back onto her lap as she started back playing her game.

“there’s no avoiding that, ma.” she laughed loudly. you rolled your eyes because you knew it was true, things would be awkward between you and paige until you went back to school. there really wasn’t any avoiding it.

“yeah, you’re right.” she sighed. tay hummed and mumbled something about always being right, you rolled your eyes again. “i gotta go, their waiting for me.”

“alright, tell me how it goes. love you!” she picked up the phone and started blowing air kisses to the phone. you pretended to catch them and place them in your heart with a smile before saying a quick ‘love you too’ and hanging up. you set your phone down on the dresser and stood up, checking your outfit in the mirror to determine if it was brunch worthy.

you were wearing a plain black tube top and a pair of denim jorts. you ran your hands down your sides and turned just enough to see check out your ass—yeah, this is perfect. you thought. now all you had to figure out was what shoes you wanted to wear, you walked to your closet and stood in front of your shoe racks. you had so many shoes you didn’t know which one to pick. you weren’t sure if you were feeling sneakers or sandals.

you stepped towards the rack and bent down as if getting closer would help you decide faster—it didn’t. you stood there for a good five minutes just staring at all the options you had. picking an outfit had never been your strong suit and whenever you did know what clothes you wanted to wear you didn’t know what shoes to wear—it was never just a simple task. after a quick game of pick a rabbit you decided to go with your black jordans.

“y/n! good lord girl, you take forever.” krystal groaned as she burst into your room. you were already tying your laces when she came in, you rolled your eyes and stood up from your bed.

“i’m ready, jeez.” you muttered as you grabbed your phone and jacket. krystal shook her head as you walked past her, muttering something under her breath before closing your door behind her.

when you walked down the stairs you spotted paige standing against the wall, one arm folded over her chest and the other holding her phone in front of her. you noticed that she was jorts too and a red crop top—god, she looks good. you thought. she looked up at the sound of footsteps and you looked away immediately, not wanting to make any unnecessary, awkward eye contact. you quickly made your way to the door and grabbed your keys from the key hook.

“and what are you doing, bug?” krystal stopped you just as you wrapped your hand around the doorknob. you stopped in your tracks and slowly turned around. paige was looking at you now—you saw her from the corner of your eye—but you refused to look at her.

“taking my car? we’re all going to the same place.”

“exactly, we’re all going to the same place. no point in taking separate cars.” paige piped in, you dared to look at her and regretted it immediately. she was still standing close to the wall, a little behind krystal, but her hands were shoved in her pockets now and she wore a small smirk that affected you more than it should’ve.

you cleared your throat and nodded, you were much more willing to do what she said when she sounded like that—voice low, like she was chill about the whole thing that happened earlier. you placed your keys back on the hook and waited for them to lead the way.

oh this is going to be a long ride. you thought.

when you arrived at the café, paige held the door for both you and krystal—-paige also took that opportunity to steal a few glances at your ass. she needed to commit the sight to memory for… future references. it could seriously be useful one day—definitely.

everything was going fine—okay, not really. after paige paid and you found a table, somewhere close to the windows so you could have something to distract yourself with, she decided to sit next to you instead of krystal. she used some lame excuse about how she wanted to be able to see everything around her, sitting next to krystal wouldn’t have allowed that.

you saw right through it because as soon as she sat down next to you, she bumped her knee into yours. you held your breath and quietly moved your leg. you tried not to think much of it as you flipped open the menu, but then she did it again and you knew it was definitely not an accident.

���wow, this looks good. what should i get?” krystal muttered—mostly to herself—as she looked through all the options. she was none the wiser to the game paige was playing under the table—was it a game or were you making something out of nothing? who knows. you bit down on your lip as you tried to hurry up and pick something to eat so everything would move along a bit faster.

paige caught the movement out of the corner of her eye, she glanced over at you and shook her head slightly. the only thought that ran through her head was how much she wished she could just reach over and run her thumb across it. she wanted to know if they were as soft as she’d been imagining, they sure looked it. she pulled her eyes away before it got too obvious that she was staring.

“i think i’ll just have the fruit salad.” you said, to no one in particular, and closed the menu. krystal hummed something about how it sounded good before announcing what she was going to have. paige was still flipping through the book, her eyes narrowed and her brows scrunched. you took the chance to look at her, mentally cursing at how good her side profile was.

a few minutes later the waiter appeared with a notepad and pencil in hand, a warm and welcoming smile on his face. he asked if you all were ready to order and you and krystal nodded and gave him your order’s. paige was still deciding, she couldn’t settle on any of the options and having everyone waiting on her almost made her break a sweat.

“i’ll just have what she’s having.” she looked at you to make it clear who she was talking about and that glint in her eye came back—that same one from the bathroom earlier. “sounds like it’ll taste good.”

as soon as those words left her mouth you felt your face get hot and a million thoughts raced through your head all at once: that can’t be real. am i just a hornball or did that have a double meaning? i’m definitely not making it through this brunch.

“alright, i’ll have that out as soon as possible.” the waiter smiled and turned on his heels.

krystal snickered from across the table and you and paige both looked at her. you were confused about what had happened that warranted a laugh. “matching outfits and meals. how cute.”

“right…i’m gonna go to the bathroom.” you pulled your lips into a tight line and excused yourself from the table. did you think her comment was unnecessary? yes. did it make you a little uncomfortable? yes. did it make you think about how good you and paige could be together? also yes.

you tried to walk normally as you went to the bathroom but you could feel eyes on your back and it almost made you skip a step and trip—that would’ve been embarrassing to say the least. the neon bathroom sign came into view and you let out a breath of relief because to you that walk felt like it was 5 miles long with everyone laughing because they somehow knew what was going through your mind.

the wooden door was heavy as you pushed it open but it closed behind you slowly. you walked through and checked every stall to see if anyone was in them and to your surprise it was completely empty—and clean. another good thing you noticed was that they all were fully closed in, no gaps on any of them.

“definitely designed by a women.” you mumbled to yourself as you stepped inside the last stall, closing and locking it behind you. you made sure to clean the toilet seat before you sat down—don’t want to catch any diseases or something.

after you were done you went to the sink and started to wash your hands, checking yourself out in the mirror the entire time. you started to hum some song you’d heard on tiktok earlier and just as you got into it the door swung open. instinctively, you looked up but you were not expecting to see paige walk in. your throat went dry and you looked away immediately

she didn’t say anything—not yet anyways—and neither did you. you finished washing your hands and grabbed a few paper towels, silently praying she’d just go away. as you expected: she didn’t go away. no, she stood right there until you turned around and only then did she start walking towards you. you looked down at your feet and your brain told you to do the only thing it knew to do: talk. a lot.

“paige—this morning i—i didn’t mean to walk in. i was just tired and i didn’t think anyone was awake yet. i should’ve knocked—i’m so sorry—”

“i didn’t mind. you looked cute all…flustered.” she said, cutting you off. your brain short circuited, your lips parting because she definitely did not just say that. she was standing close now—like almost toe to toe close—and that didn’t really help you calm down any more.

you needed to get away like, right now before you started saying things that’ll definitely make thing more awkward, but she smelt so good and you could almost feel her body heat if you’d just leaned in a little bit. your eyes were looking everywhere but her face, like her shoes, jacket, her abs, her arms—god, her arms looked heavenly. so perfect and strong and—put me in a chokehold, oh my lord.

you shook your head as your mind started feeling up with not so innocent thoughts and images, and you really needed to get away from her. “i—i need to—”

“is that why you’re being awkward? you saw my tits, no big deal.” paige shrugged like it really was no big deal—like you seeing her half naked was just another sunny saturday. you finally looked her in the eyes and your lips parted in disbelief.

“no big deal—” you cut yourself off with a dry chuckle and you shook your head before whisper-yelling, “that most definitely is a big deal. you’re dating my mom, remember? i shouldn’t be picturing you—” you paused and your eyes got wide because you essentially just admitted you’d been picturing her naked, “i mean, seeing you naked. half naked, full naked. whatever.”

you ended your rant with a frustrated huff, you’d basically just ruined any chance of peace you had left. there was no way you wouldn’t think of this very day 50 years from now when you’re old and wrinkly and still single. the worst part about it was that paige was just standing there smiling and somehow during your rant you’d moved closer to her.

“you picture me naked?”

“no, i don’t picture you naked.” you scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest and looking towards the stalls. paige hummed and slowly nodded her head, her hand hesitantly reaching out to ghost over your waist. your breath caught in your throat slightly and you finally looked back at her.

“did this start before or after this morning?” she teased, her grin getting slightly wider. you were getting hot again—like burning from the inside out. you felt that flutter in your stomach and you shifted on your heels to distract yourself from the fact that you were five seconds from kissing her if you didn’t leave soon.

paige tilted her head slightly and you scoffed again before bringing your hand to her chest and patting a couple of times. you had no idea where the confidence came from but you weren’t complaining, you leaned into her until your lips brushed the shell of her ear, “in your dreams, paige.”

and with that you brushed passed her and left the bathroom, leaving her standing there with a stupid grin on her face. paige let out a breathy laugh and turned to face the door, she stared at it for a few seconds before shaking her head and muttering to herself: “most definitely.”

when you got back to your table the food was already there and krystal was scrolling on her phone, probably on facebook, but she looked up when you sat down.

“what took so long? where’s paige?” she threw her left hand up in the air dramatically, her eyes narrowing as she questioned you. you shrugged and picked around the fruit salad to see what all was in it.

“some of the stalls were full and the others were down.” you lied and took a glance at her, not long enough for her to see you were lying though. she didn’t say anything but she squinted her eyes slightly before humming and settling back into her seat.

after dinner all you wanted was so shower and get in bed but krystal had other plans, she dragged you and paige into the living room with the game of twister in her hands. you groaned and plopped down on the couch next to paige, making sure to keep enough distance between you.

“mom, you don't even like playing twister. you always say “i’m getting too old for all this twisting and turning shit” like every time we play.” you twisted your face up as you badly imitated her voice. paige watched your face the entire time and threw her head back with a loud laugh, you reached over and playfully shoved her arm. “i’m serious, she doesn’t like twister.”

krystal rolled her eyes as she moved the coffee table to the corner of the room so that there was enough room for the mat to go down. “yeah, yeah. paige’s never played before and now that you’re here you can show her how it goes.”

“right, i definitely volunteer.” you said sarcastically as you pulled your legs onto the couch. paige looked at you and mouthed “ouch” as she placed her hand over her heart, pretending your words hurt her. you rolled your eyes at her and bit your bottom lip, trying to hold back the smile threatening to show. you saw her gaze flicker down to your lips and for the first time, you shamelessly did the same.

“bug, come help me smooth this out.” krystal said as she dropped to her knees and started to straighten out the crinkles in the mat. you let out a soft huff but still got up to help.

it only took five minutes, ten smart comments, and 7 thumps on the forehead to get the game completely set up. of course, paige watched and laughed the entire time. she didn’t bother to make any comments, not even when you looked at her for help against your mom’s antics—she just smirked and shrugged her shoulders.

after it was set up you and paige moved to stand on opposite sides on the mat, both of you staring at krystal for the next directions. she was sitting on the couch now, legs crossed under her and the spinner sitting in her lap. she picked it up and held it out in front of her before something was missing. “wait! i need a glass of wine before we start.”

she jumped up and ran to the kitchen to fix herself a glass, her padded feet hitting the ground with a soft thud. she looked through her wine rack to decide which one she wanted tonight, her hand on her hips, foot lightly tapping the ground. after a minute she decided on a bottle of rose. the original plan was to just get one glass but the longer she held it in her hand the more inclined she was to just take the whole bottle back to the living. which, she did.

“alright, where were we?” she hummed as she sat back down and picked up the spinner. you crossed your arms over your chest and shifted on your heel, starting to get a little impatient. krystal flicked the spinner and stared intently as it spun and then slowly started to settle on a spot. “okay! bug, left foot, blue.”

since you were already on a blue spot you just moved your foot over a few spots and placed it on the fourth spot. your hands flew out to your sides when your foot slipped on the slippery mat and you let out a nervous laugh, hoping it wasn’t too obvious you almost busted your ass. paige stood in front of you, still in the starting position watching your every move.

“p, right foot, blue.” krystal called out as she opened her bottle of wine, the cork flew out with a soft pop. paige moved her foot to the blue spot right in front of yours and she made it look so easy. even though she had socks on just like you she didn’t slip not once. her legs were already much longer than yours and she stretched all the time for basketball. you looked down and let your eyes rake over her legs because god—they’re literally just perfect.

you looked towards krystal and watched as she took a long sip of wine before spinning the spinner again, “right foot, red. that’s for you, bug.”

you stretched your right leg and planted your foot on a red spot, leaning forward slightly to keep your balance when your socks caused your foot to slide a little. “i should’ve took my socks off.” you whined.

paige snickered as she watched you regain your balance. you looked up at her and gave her your best glare, to which she laughed again. krystal called out another call for paige and she stretched her left leg to plant her foot on the third green spot. you were closer now, only a few inches away from each other—if that.

your hips were slightly rotated inward and paige’s were rotated towards you as she stretched across the mat—one wrong move and you would’ve ended up in an incriminating position that definitely would never leave your mind. hell, the whole conversation you had in the bathroom earlier was still replaying in your head over and over.

krystal called out another call that had you bending down and placing your left hand on yellow, your hair fell in your face and you mentally cursed at yourself for forgetting to pull it up before the game started. you weren’t facing paige anymore—no, you were turned around with your ass pointed directly into her face as you placed your hand down on a yellow spot. paige sucked in a deep breath as she tried to keep her eyes looking anywhere but your ass. that proved to be a difficult task when it was just right there in her face, but she knew krystal would be watching and she couldn’t be getting caught up.

“alright, lets see.” krystal said out loud before clearing her throat and imitating a news reporter or something. “paige, right hand, yellow.”

paige looked down at the options she had and she cursed under her breath when she realized there was no way she could put her hand on yellow without putting you two in another awkward position. she stood there for a moment, hands on her hips, thinking about what spot she wanted to choose. you lifted your head to see what was taking so long.

“paige, i’ll kick you if you don’t pick a spot.” you huffed, limbs already starting to burn from being in the awkward position. paige laughed at your sassiness and finally bent over and placed her hand on the yellow spot right above yours. she was leaning over you now and if you lifted your hips any higher you’d be pushing your ass right against her—wouldn’t be a bad “accident”, you thought. you ducked your head low as you heard the sound of your mom drinking from her bottle, you rolled your eyes because this game was already taking too long.

“i don’t stretch enough for this.” you muttered, low enough that krystal didn’t hear but loud enough that paige did. paige let out a quiet chuckle and you turned your head to look at her, narrowing your eyes slightly.

“maybe…we should fix that.” she said back. there it was again—those double meanings that would have your head spinning later trying to figure out which way she meant that. you let out a shaky breath and lowered your head again, hiding your face from her so she couldn’t see the affect her words had on you.

this seemed to be the theme of the day—double meanings, flirty comments, and awkward positions—and the worst part was that you weren’t entirely complaining about it. you might’ve actually enjoyed it, key word being might’ve—you’d have to have a discussion with tay later to fully decide.

she had to know what she was doing to you—what her words were doing—and something in you told you that she was actually enjoying seeing you get flustered and nervous. how can i flip this around? how can i make her nervous? you thought. you figured you could act innocent or flirt back—decisions, decisions—or you could mix the two and make it even worse. you decided you’d make it worse.

you turned your head back towards her and let your gaze fall onto her lips for a second before looking her in the eyes again. paige couldn’t help but look at your lips when you smiled sweetly—a little too sweetly. “i’d love to stretch with you, i’m sure you’re really good at it.”

paige smirked because she could see right through the doe-eyed look you were giving her. she parted her lips to say something but the sound of krystal’s voice broke the two of you out of whatever bubble you’d created around you.

“right hand, red!” krystal said, her words coming out a bit louder than intended. you and paige both looked at her to see who she was talking to and that’s when you noticed half the bottle was already gone, she was definitely going to fall asleep soon. she pulled the spinner away from her face and narrowed her eyes at you and paige, “why aren’t y'all moving?”

“you didn’t tell us who.” paige reminded her gently. krystal’s lips formed a small ‘o’.

“right, that was for you bug.”

in order for you to successfully place your right hand on red you had to change positions so that you didn’t slip, you lifted your hips a little higher and moved your hand over. paige pulled her bottom lip between her teeth because she could almost feel your body pressing against hers. she just needed to tilt her hips even an inch forward and she would’ve been pressed right against your ass—such a tempting thought.

“hmm,” krystal hummed as she flicked the spinner again and watched as it slowed down onto the color blue. “okay, paige. left hand, blue.”

“how am i supposed to—” paige scrunched her face in confusion because you were covering the only blue spots that were close enough for her to reach. you noticed that and—without thinking—you lifted yourself higher so she would have enough room to go under you. paige felt her ears get hot when you pressed yourself right up against her, her breath caught in her throat and she closed her eyes for a split second.

“go under me.” you told her, trying to ignore the heat creeping through your core from the position. she hummed and nodded her head before sliding her left arm under her right one and under you. the reach wasn’t entirely impossible but as she moved she accidentally knocked into you and since you were already thrown off from being pressed against her, you lost your balance and fell down onto the mat.

“ha!” krystal shouted as she pointed a finger at you, her head fell back with a loud laugh. “you lost!”

“no,” you whined, dragging the word out with a small pout because one thing you hated more than anything was losing. you rolled over onto your back and stared up at paige with a blank expression. “this is your fault. you’re gonna regret this.”

“is that a threat?” paige laughed and tilted her head to the side. you narrowed your eyes and ran the tip of your tongue over your top teeth before sucking them. you lowered your voice so you sounded more sinister than you actually were.

“that’s a promise, bueckers.”

“ouuu, i’m so scared.” she teased back as she moved from above you. now she was sitting beside you with her hands planted on the floor behind her and her legs bent at the knees. you sat up and rolled your eyes, though there was no real heat behind them—okay, maybe a little, you really hated losing.

“you should be.” you pointed your finger at her as you stood up. you glared at her to make your words seem more threatening but she just laughed at you—like, head thrown back laughing. her eyes followed your every move as you picked up your phone and gave krystal a quick hug and kiss. “alright, i’m gonna shower and get to bed.”

just as you turned to walk away paige called out, “goodnight, bug.” her voice had that teasing edge to it because she just knew how much you hated being called that.

you held your hand up and stuck your middle finger up at her but you didn’t turn around, you just kept walking—mostly because you had one of those shy, schoolgirl smiles on your face you didn’t need her seeing that.

especially not after all that’s happened today.

sleeping should’ve been easier than what it was. close your eyes, take a deep breath, boom, you’re asleep, but unfortunately it wasn’t that simple. it would have been if every time you closed your eyes you didn’t see paige and her insanely hot body. you twisted and turned to try and get in a comfortable position to fall asleep but it was like nothing was working.

you couldn’t get paige out of your head and it was seriously starting to get annoying. all you wanted was to go to sleep but you couldn’t when you kept picturing her standing there in the bathroom—water droplets clinging to her skin, her nipples hard and staring at you like a deer in headlights, the way her abs looked still glistening with water. your thighs squeezed together at the thought and it was like suddenly you weren’t in control of your mind anymore.

visions of her fully naked started to cross your mind, fantasies of her running her hands up your thighs, and if you thought hard enough you swore you could actually feel it. your bottom lip pulled between your teeth and you exhaled a shaky breath as you shifted your thighs against each other. then, you started to think about how she was hovering over you just a few hours ago—how she looked looking down at you, how the veins in her arms showed from the effort of holding her weight.

before you knew it you were lying flat on your back, eyes wide open and staring at the ceiling. that small little ache you had felt before had now turned into something more, something intense, and you knew if you didn’t fix it you would never get any sleep. with a soft groan, you blindly reached for your phone to check what time it was. 1:10 am.

it was late, so you figured that everyone was asleep but then you remember what happened the last time you thought that. still, you let out a soft huff and mentally debated on if you should shove your hand down your panties or if you should roll back over and pretend to sleep until you actually did. after a minute or two you were still laying there but now you had somewhat decided on what to do.

i can be quiet, right? you thought as you started to gnaw at your bottom lip. you sat up on your elbows and let your eyes scan the room, and you were squinting them a bit because the moonlight only shined so bright. the fan was on and it was loud enough to cover any questionable noises. the door was closed, no one would come in without knocking. you held your breath for a moment to see if you could hear any noises that would prove someone was still awake.

when you didn’t hear any you slowly nodded your head—mainly to confirm to yourself that you were in the clear—and you relaxed back into the sheets. you kept your hands relaxed by your head and started to think about something to get you started. you tried to not let your thoughts wander to that but the longer you laid there the harder it was getting.

what’s the harm in just thinking though? it’s not like she would even know.

you dropped your hand down and let it rest on your stomach just above your pantie line, giving into the thoughts of paige. you let your mind wander from seeing her naked to feeling her hovering over you. the entire time you traced your fingers over your skin, letting out a breathy sigh as your eyes fluttered shut.

you started to imagine that it was paige touching you— paige guiding you onto your back as she littered soft kisses down your skin. you thought she’d be gentle with you because, well, that’s just what she gave off—you know, under that “nonchalant” demeanor she puts on. you imagined she would take her time undressing you, so that’s what you did. you slowly lifted your shirt over your head and let it fall somewhere off the side of the bed.

your hands cupped your chest gently, fingers already tracing your hardened nipples. a soft noise slipped from your throat when you gently pinched and rolled them between your fingers, your hips bucked slightly. you thought about how paige would touch you from here—would she take your panties off now or would she make you beg for it.

being the impatient girl you were, you went ahead and moved your hands down to slip your panties off. you kicked them off the side of the bed like you’d did with your shirt. the air from the fan sent a wave of cool air over your body and you shivered but if you were being honest it just turned you on more. you were already soaking wet from just the thought of her, the thought of what she would do if she had you under her like this.

you ghosted your fingers over your clit before sliding them through your folds, biting back a soft groan at how wet you were. you pressed your fingers against your clit in tight circles, making you suck in a sharp breath because you were so turned on you could already tell you wouldn’t last long.

the entire time you thought about her watching you, directing you the way she wanted it done. waiting no time, you ran your fingers down and eased your fingers. you squeezed your eyes shut and bit down on your lip hard enough to draw blood so that you didn’t make a sound. when you started to move your fingers you thought about how her hands looked and how big they were, how deep her fingers would reach—how quick she could make you cum because she just looked like she’d be amazing at it.

your chest was rising and falling heavier now that your breathing had started picking up. you couldn’t control the soft whimpers falling from your lips as you pressed your fingers deeper and moved them faster. you rolled your hips forward in time with your fingers and somehow your brushed that one spot that had you moaning a little louder than you should’ve.

paige name slipped from your lips before you even realized it—a soft, breathy whine that had your eyes shooting open like she was really there to hear it. your fingers never stopped moving though, you couldn’t stop, not when you were already so close—your hips never stopped grinding down into your hand.

there was a soft creak in the hallways and you held your breath for a second, trying to see if you would hear it again. after a few seconds of quiet you decided that you were probably just hearing things and let yourself relax into the pleasure again. your cunt made a low, but obscene, noise as you gushed around your fingers and you thought that it might’ve had something to do with the fact your brain started to imagine that see was outside of your door listening to you. you knew that was probably not the case but the thought of it sent a shiver through your spine.

but what if she was? you thought. your lips parted with another trembling moan and you could feel your orgasm getting closer and closer. you were thinking about her voice now—how low and raspy it could get, how smooth she talked when she was talking to you. you just knew she’d talk you through it, tell you how good you felt wrapped around her fingers, how sweet you tasted. you could almost hear her telling you to cum for her or asking you if it felt good.

“fuck, paige—fuck fuck fuck—m’gonna cum.” you whined without even meaning to, your orgasm crashing into you like a tidal wave. your back arched from the bed, only causing your fingers to press deeper, and your eyes rolled back. you let yourself ride it out by slowing your thrust but not stopping just yet. with a soft puff of air, you relaxed back onto the bed.

you pressed your thighs together as soon as you pulled your fingers out and the air from the fan blowing suddenly felt too cool. your fingers were still slick with your cum and getting out of bed again, getting dressed, and going all the way to the bathroom seem like too much of a task at the moment. instead, you placed your fingers in your mouth and licked them clean, humming softly because damn, you really did taste good.

after you were done you pulled the covers back over you and rolled back over, a satisfied smile on your face because well…

what better way to go to sleep?

[lovelyahoy]

Dr. Stone: One-shot.

Word count:4,677.

Warnings: Besides being fast-paced, a bit fluffy, and the overuse of the words 'know & like', nothing else.

Summary: Senku struggles to understand why hearing her no longer spew those three words, sends his brain into a rollercoaster of overthinking.

TL: @akiqvq 💖

Pairing: Senku Ishigami x Fem!Reader

︽❀═══❀═══⌘═══⌘═══❀═══❀═══⌘═══⌘═══❀═══❀︾

"I like you."

Were words that once shocked him, blinking in surprise when the girl did nothing but offer him a smile right after, leaving him to wander in his thoughts.

It wasn't the first time she had said them, as kids, [Y/N] always made sure to say them once a day. Back then it meant what it seemed, good friends who played with each other daily, nowadays? Now, they felt heavier, with much more emotion.

"Yeah, I know."

[Y/N] chuckled, not a stranger to the way his fingers twitched upon hearing her. She knew he knew about her feelings, choosing to brush them off instead of over-analyzing them.

Senku scrolled through his emails, eyes focused on the recent update from his mentor. [Y/N] shuffled around small pieces of junk, from a box he kept stuffed in his closet, parts he used for his projects.

She didn't know what half of these were, only recognizing bolts and circuit boards. [E/C] eyes shifted to look at the white and green haired teen, smiling sadly when she noticed how utterly fascinated he looked.

A look he would never give her.

She tried to erase her feelings, all efforts dissipated whenever he'd hold her hand, wordlessly dragging her out of the house to bring her to his own residence or the park. Wanting [Y/N] to be there to experience whatever crazy plan he had in mind.

[Y/N] tidied up, pushing the box back into its rightful place and dusting off her school skirt. Her light footsteps lead her to stand behind the scientist, placing her hands on his shoulders and slowly sliding them down his chest.

Her face nudged his cheek, focusing on whatever he was gazing at. Senku forced his body to relax, telling himself this was normal, something she did a lot. It was nothing new.

Yet her warm cheek next to his never failed to make his heart skip a beat.

︽❀═══❀═══⌘═══⌘═══❀═══❀═══⌘═══⌘═══❀═══❀︾

I.

I..

I...

Senku couldn't focus on the beaker in his hand, placing it down and settling by the window. He plunged the straw into his milk carton and sipped away, scarlet eyes scanning the field of soccer players and a certain [H/C] haired girl sitting by the bleachers with a group of friends.

She looked dazed, much like how he looked right now.

I, a vowel she had uttered three times just this morning. No 'like you' was added, [Y/N] dashing away with a frown before she added anything else.

He shouldn't care this much, it was illogical to let this occurrence hinder his experimental progress. He could lie to everyone else and say it didn't bother him, but he couldn't lie to himself.

"Senku, it's time to lock everything up."

He sighed, barely registering the passing of time and how the bleachers were empty now. Senku turned away and nodded, going to his station to clean up his unfinished work.

The night came soon, and he felt pure annoyance when sleep could not overtake him, stomping over to her house. Clicking the doorbell until his finger got tired, flinching when he heard a crash.

[Y/N] opened to door, rubbing her sleepy eyes and yawning lightly. Senku held a blank face walking past her and closing the door, despite the very empty streets, there wasn't a reason someone should see her attire.

Before he could comment on her messy tank top, straps falling to the side of her arms, the rolled up shorts and the singular bunny slipper, blood trickled down her nose.

Noticing she wasn't reacting in the slightest, he quickly pinched her nose, tilting her head up. He guided her into the bathroom, sitting her on the toilet cover and quickly searching for a towel.

He kneeled down in front of her and held her chin, pulling it down forward to allow the excess blood to flow onto the towel. [E/C] eyes barely started to register what was going on.

"Sen..?"

"Clumsy, why did you fly down those stairs?"

"Only one psycho rings my bell like that." She murmured softly, he only ever did it when her parents weren't home, otherwise he'd be throwing pebbles at her window like she was a locked up princess.

"Got eager when you realized it was me?" He teased, biting his inner cheek when she didn't laugh in return, sadness pooled within her. Senku was making it harder with each passing day, unknowingly tugging at the strings attaching them together.

That's what [Y/N] thought at least.

"Senku, I..."

"Like me, I know."

"Yeah..."

He should've let her speak, she had nowhere to run to here. He held in the sound of frustration he desperately wanted to make, looking at the girl sleeping soundly next to him with her face stuffed in his chest.

Senku's sleep was filled with memories, ones he used to find rightfully childish but also held them close to his heart, refusing to let any details about them slip by his memory.

"Hi, what are you doing?" Scarlet eyes blinked at the small face peeking over the tall backyard fence, it took him a second to realize this was his new neighbor, who'd barely moved in yesterday evening.

"I'm growing crystals." He watched her head tilt, curiosity brimmed in her [E/C] eyes and she tried to climb over. The stool she had used wasn't enough, yelling for her father, who was drinking by the pool, the man got startled and walked over.

A young [Y/N] pouted and pointed over the fence, motioning [D/N] to help her over. Senku went back to his task, drowning out her yells of protest when her dad dragged her inside the house.

Minutes later Byakuya opened the backyard door and waved, with the new family behind him. The small girl immediately ran over to the sitting brainiac and sat down, observing his little setup.

"Not that you would understand, but first I put magnesium sulfate also known as Epsom salts, into this jar, add water and monitor its growth." He waved his notepad, scribbles of words she didn't know at all, but still capturing her attention.

"Can I have one?"

Senku smugly smirked, of course she wanted one, who could resist science?

"Sure."

He soon learned she didn't care for science at all, she cared for his reaction, his words, and his adoration for it. Whenever he'd hit minor setbacks during his projects, whether it be waiting for a part to be shipped or a slight miscalculation in his notes—[Y/N] kept his mind running with requests.

For example, she had asked him to make a large beautiful lava lamp, the very one sitting on her desk and lighting up the room with bright red and green colors.

She liked him. Did he like her? He didn't know. Obviously [Y/N] was someone he wanted around him at all times, she's been there since the near beginning and continued to stay.

"Woah! [Y/N], where'd you get that necklace?"

"It's so pretty!"

[Y/N] felt claustrophobic having so many classmates surround her desk, the shimmering crystal had attracted unwanted gazes. One of the boys suddenly grasped the accessory and ripped it off her neck, dangling it in the air showing it off to everyone else.

"Please give it back.."

"Looks cheap, why are you all amazed?" He scoffed, dropping the necklace to the floor and stomping it with his foot. All that remained were small dusty particles, the rest of the students berated the boy but [Y/N] couldn't focus on anything else other than her gift being mistreated so harshly.

"Hey [D/N], Senku said [Y/N] refused to come out and play today, is everything okay?" Byakuya had never seen her give up a single opportunity to hang out with his son, they had become close friends in a very short span of time.

"No, not really. A classmate broke the crystal Senku gave her, she's been crying all evening and I don't know what to do. [M/N] tried to calm her down too but nothing worked."

Senku opened the front door, stomping past the talking adults and making his way to her house. The door was slightly ajar so he allowed himself in, walking past a confused [M/N] and up the stairs, now standing in front of her door.

He knocked. Nothing.

Sniffles behind the door and he felt uncomfortable.

"[Y/N]. Open the door."

Nothing.

"[Y/N]."

Fine.

He went back downstairs and headed to the backyard, picking up small rocks and throwing them at her window. Paling when he threw one with too much force and the glass broke, [E/C] irises popped up from the broken window and blinked down at him in surprise.

"Senku? Mommy's going to be mad."

"Why are you sulking over a stupid crystal?"

[Y/N] felt tears gather, lips quivering trying to hold herself together. She didn't want him to see her cry, but despite her best efforts, he did.

"Because you made it. I couldn't keep it safe."

"So instead of asking me for another or telling me about it, you decided to ignore me?"

He jutted out his bottom lip, he didn't mean to sound so whiny, his face reddened when she stopped sniffling and stared down at him with her eyes sparkling. Never had she heard him sound so dejected, not to mention Senku blushing was rare.

"Now, get down here so we can convince your dad to transfer you to my school."

"Senku...I like you."

"Huh? Oh...me too?"

...

...

Senku wasn't the type to shrug something off with an 'I don't know.', always having a logical explanation for everything. He just couldn't formulate anything other than his emotions going haywire when it came to her.

He glanced at the silent girl copying his math notes, he liked her writing, it was neat, pretty, and aligned perfectly no matter what paper she wrote on. The way her fingers seemed to glide smoothly, the sun's rays making her skin glow...when did he start seeing her in a different light?

"Is everything okay?" Senku blinked, met with her head tilting to the side and giving him a concerned expression. The only times [Y/N] had seen him this locked into his thoughts was during anything science-related, this sudden change worried her.

"Yeah, just thinking of the parts I need to buy." She closed their notebooks and slid his towards him, putting her own away and leaning back in the chair. Her head shifted to look up at the ceiling.

"I..." Why did his breath hitch? Why did his heart skip a beat? "I'm sorry for falling asleep on you yesterday."

Disappointment polluted his veins, awkwardly playing with the pencil in his hands.

"Heh, wouldn't be the first time."

"It won't happen again, sorry."

His movement came to a stop, his lips parted but no words came out, silently watching her pack the rest of her things, sending him a brief smile and walking out the clubroom.

A smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.

Senku had always brushed off her indirect-direct confessions, never thinking about it for too long and moving on. When did it start bothering him to not hear it? It was ridiculous.

"Senku! I like you."

"You said that yesterday, and the day before."

"Doesn't make it less of a truth!" She pouted playfully, passing him the screwdriver.

Senku shook his head at her giggle, continuing his science fair project. Could someone really like a friendship this much?

Was it still a friendship? And when the hell did he start asking himself so many questions, unanswered ones at that? Senku blew out air, finally getting up from his chair and rolling his stiff neck around.

"What a dumbass." He berated himself under his breath, oblivious to the girl waiting just outside the door.

︽❀═══❀═══⌘═══⌘═══❀═══❀═══⌘═══⌘═══❀═══❀︾

The leek-haired kid stood outside her window, nearly snapping his neck from jumping over the fence. A small pebble rolled between his fingers, deciding if throwing it would be a good idea. Remembering the amount of times he broke the glass he dropped the rock and took out his phone.

Scrolling through his contacts and hesitating to press on her icon, he didn't even know why he was here in the first place, dragging his feet out of bed before he could really think about it.

He clicked off contacts, sending her a message instead. It didn't take long, the girl quietly walked downstairs and opened the backyard door, scrunching her eyebrows at him.

"What's wrong?"

"[Y/N] I don't mind you sleeping on me."

"Did you come here just to say...that?" [Y/N] had thought of the worst, that maybe he was going to call off their friendship, tired of her feelings or clinginess.

"No, but it's not a lie." Senku let out an unamused chuckle, emotions are stupid, therefore making him feel stupid. [Y/N] closed the door behind her and approached his conflicting figure, the worry from earlier came back.

She gave him a few seconds, realizing he was once again drifting away into his thoughts. Her lips twitched, from the cold and from how intense his gaze was fixated on her.

"Senku?"

"Do you like me?" That wasn't what he wanted to say either, he knew she did, he wasn't that oblivious—

"No."

—or was he? Scarlet eyes widened only slightly, had he misread the entire situation? Struggling to comprehend his own feelings he held for her, when she wasn't interested in him anymore?

"I don't like you, I—"

"Yeah I got it, see you tomorrow [Y/N]." He lazily waved and spun on his heel, heading towards the fence to hop over it again. His leg suddenly got tugged on, messing up his balance and falling towards the grass.

He blinked away the mild pain, the blurriness cleared away and the scenery of [Y/N]'s face right next to him greeted his eyes.

"Why, why don't you ever let me finish my words?"

"Because I know what you're going to say, that you like me. Did you say them that much to try and get a reaction out of me? Was it fun?" His voice came out harsh, completely surprised at how angry he felt. Senku's stomach twisted when he watched as her [E/C] eyes narrowed significantly.

[Y/N] bit her bottom lip in frustration, no longer kneeling by his side and taking a few steps away from him.

"Get out, and don't ever talk to me again." That was the softest he'd ever heard her voice, sounding completely defeated. Maybe being away from her is what he needed, time to gather himself and what this all meant to him.

That was the best way to get rid of her unrequited love, even if it hurt her more than anything in the world. She couldn't help but sneak glances at him, feeling her chest tighten at how he looked perfectly normal with the change.

The bell for lunchtime rang, Senku walked past her desk without sparing her a glance. The crystal sitting right above her collarbones suddenly felt heavy, she gripped her hand around it and couldn't bring herself to rip it off.

"[Y/N]!" Two hands roughly landed on her desk, startled, she looked up at the cause. Taiju held a bright smile, making exaggerated hip movements and she had never felt so confused in her life.

"I'm going to confess to Yuzuriha after school! You'll have the perfect view from the science club hallway so please, be there for me!" The giant bowed and ran out of the room before [Y/N] could reply, hopefully, Senku wouldn't be there...who was she kidding, of course he would.

She spent the last lesson shifting in her seat, it wasn't like she'd be going there for him, it was for Taiju and Taiju only. It had been a week since their friendship break-up, finding herself sitting alone and talking to no one.

[Y/N] smiled watching Taiju stroll up to a waiting Yuzuriha, both of them were already blushing. She snapped as many pictures as she could with her limited storage space, wanting the couple to have memories.

Somebody joined her right next to the window, balancing their arms on the thin windowsill. Green and white flooded the corner of her view, gulping quietly when she realized who it was. No words were exchanged, just two teens being here for their friend.

Her face scrunched up when Taiju stopped talking, gazing at the atmosphere in a trance. [E/C] eyes widened at the bright green light approaching them quickly, she took a step back noticing Senku do the same.

"What?" She whispered, Taiju and Yuzuriha had been turned to stone statues.

"[Y/N]!" An arm wrapped around her waist and tugged her closer, and a hand landed on her head as if to protect her. Her heart was beating like crazy and all she could do was hug him back, feeling her body encased by a weird material. "I'm sorry." was the last thing she heard.

The darkness was beginning to overwhelm her, it was eerily quiet with only her inside voice being her saving grace. Her head was consumed by her memories, replaying them desperately to keep herself awake. Was Senku still next to her? She hoped he was okay.

"We don't have the same homeroom..." [Y/N] traced the bulletin board list, frowning when she noticed Senku and Taiju were together, but she had been placed in a different one.

"Maybe next year, let's go big oaf." Senku patted her shoulder before walking off with the enthusiastic giant, well she didn't expect him to care, however a head pat would've been better.

Thankfully her classmates were pretty okay, meeting a cheerful girl named Yuzuriha who immediately hit it off with [Y/N]. They paired up for every assignment and helped each other whenever, still, something was missing.

It was barely a week into their first year of middle school when she was approached by her neighbor, holding a pink envelope in his hand. Senku was going to show it to her, but [Y/N] snatched it quicker than lighting itself.

Her [E/C] eyes barely skimmed over the gushy words, tugging the paper back into the envelope and not returning it to him. He didn't read all of it, so he wondered if he missed something weird written in it.

"Don't accept any of these."

"Why?" It wasn't like he planned on accepting anyone's confession, her firm voice did spark curiosity on this matter though.

"Because I like you." That was when Senku realized that sentence was no longer innocent, never had he seen her look so conflicted or embarrassed. [Y/N] loosened her grip on the piece of paper and gave it back, lowering her head to look at her school shoes.

What was he supposed to say? Teasing her like usual didn't feel right, not when she had basically confessed to him. Senku didn't need or want a relationship, not right now, maybe not ever.

"Okay, I won't." So why did he go out of his way to reassure her?

A scarlet eye was finally gazing up at something else other than the total darkness, it was the ceiling of a cave, not the prettiest sight but different nonetheless. He frantically looked around, knowing damn well he held onto [Y/N] so tightly there was no chance her body strayed away.

Oh, there she was. Huddled up near the darker area of the cave, knees pulled up to her chest and hiding her bottom parts.

"I heard your stone cracking...I got shy..."

"Keke, get up, we have work to do—or don't, give me a second." Senku's best clothing option was thick vines, roping them together to shield their parts even if he didn't care for nudity. [Y/N] ended up weaving a dress, deeming the two-piece a little too revealing for her taste.

Senku was completely in his element, a part of him was also extremely glad he wasn't alone. [Y/N] on the other hand was fucking losing her mind, she kept her composure in front of him, helping him in whatever he needed, but when she had her alone time—struggled to keep in her freak-outs.

He had noticed, sending her away whenever he'd feel her body tensing up or eyes glazing over. It worried him that she wouldn't be able to adapt, and slowly lose herself instead.

Maybe he was too, considering his nights were plagued by the flashbacks of her saying she liked him. They hadn't brought up that topic again, and he didn't think he could.

︽❀═══❀═══⌘═══⌘═══❀═══❀═══⌘═══⌘═══❀═══❀︾

"You like him." Gen leaned over the tall tree stump, playfully grinning at the usually stoic girl. He heard from Senku that she was only this reserved with them, not him, and that intrigued the mentalist.

"Hm? No, not quite."

It didn't sound like denial, or had she not understood his question? Gen slowly approached her, dropping his teasing tone and melting back into his normal persona.

"Did my question upset you?" [Y/N]'s hand stopped writing, lifting her head up from her lap and blinking up at the concerned boy. She softly shook her head, but Gen knew better, he had definitely heard the shake in her voice.

"Knowing he will never return these feelings...I'd rather keep them buried till the end of time."

Except, Gen knew for a fact it was not that simple for her, placing a hand on her shaking shoulder. He looked away, wanting to be here for her but also giving her privacy to cry.

So he made it his mission to find out how Senku felt, if he did, he'd try his best to get them together. If not...well he would have to find [Y/N] a new love interest.

"What?" Senku nearly dropped the beaker in his hand when Gen popped his head into the laboratory so suddenly and hit him with a wild question.

"I asked how you feel about [Y/N]."

"She's a good friend."

"No."

"No..?" The scientist was playing stupid, trying to shrug off the mentalist from prying into his emotions.

"Well, I need to know before proceeding."

Senku raised an eyebrow, pouring the next chemical from a vial.

"Whether [Y/N] has a shot with you, or I get her fixated on someone who likes her back."

He paused, Gen smirked behind his joint arms, jackpot.

"Impossible, there's no one else she could possibly develop feelings for—not that she has them for me, not anymore."

Senku regretted the words that spilled out his mouth, hearing Gen snicker. Yeah maybe he did like her, the 3,700 years in solitude and the one year being awake, [Y/N] was constantly in his thoughts. Not knowing if they'd ever wake up, he wondered what they could've been if he had realized his feelings for her earlier.

[Y/N]'s love language was physical, hooking her arm around his, holding his hand, pressing her face to his, and cuddling up during sleepovers.

"Listen, Senku. [Y/N] still wants to be with you. I think you're worrying too much about the physical aspect of it." Why was this mentalist this good at reading even him? Senku finished writing up his progress, turning to look at the stone-faced Gen. It was the first time he looked serious.

He wasn't confident that he'd be giving his best friend what she truly deserved. Senku stilled, realizing he had been doing exactly what he thought he couldn't give, her touches were never foreign or unwelcome, in fact, he didn't mind them. Allowing [Y/N] to be that close to him was already reciprocating her feelings.

"Tell her how you feel, give her a kiss or two, and let everything else flow naturally."

...

...

[Y/N] didn't think much of the thick blanket around her and Senku, shoulders pressed against each other. Gen had wrapped them up and walked away with no further words, sitting across the campfire and giving them a thumbs up.

Senku was on the verge of making a torch and throwing it at the smug white and black haired male. Her knee touched his and he tensed up, too focused on her close proximity, why was it sweetly suffocating him now?

"Hurry, say 'ah', the fish is getting cold."

"...ahh..."

[Y/N] giggled seeing him hide his cheeks that flared up like apples, thanking Kohaku for the second fish and eating it quickly while giving some bites to Senku.

"[Y/N]."

She hummed in response, mouth filled with food and cheeks puffing out.

"Meet me by the flower field after you're done." He stood up and fixed the blanket to envelop her further, she nodded half-dazed and wondered what he needed from her. She finished the last bite and got up, lending the blanket to a small shivering Suika.

The path to the flower field was only a few minutes away, but it must be something important, otherwise, he'd tell her what he needed to say in front of everyone...oh..did, did Gen say something? [Y/N] was extremely nervous now.

Senku's hair swayed softly with the cold breeze, he gazed up at the moon gathering his thoughts and formulating words in his head, the moment he heard her approach him, all his meticulous planning drifted away.

He turned around, facing her. What was he going to say again? Fuck, it left his mind.

"What did you need Senku?"

Once he said this, there would be no going back, fearful of the chance it might ruin their friendship. A teeny tiny part of him yelled out that Gen basically confirmed her still have feelings for him, so it shouldn't be this hard to speak.

"Senku?"

She made no move to approach him, standing exactly three feet away. [Y/N] needed this rejection to go by quick, she would heal and move on.

"Is...is your love from before still strong?"

[Y/N] teared up as a shiver ran down her spine, and her lips trembled at the way he gazed at her, with such a soft look. It had taken him quite a bit of time to understand what she had meant by her 'no', all of her hesitated I's, it was right in front of him and he was so damn blind.

"I'm sorry, I should've let you finish that day. I was barely coming to terms with how I felt about you and hearing you say you didn't feel the same anymore, well it put me off."

the same? She finally took a step forward, another, one more and she was right in front of him. Scarlet eyes were half-lidded and fixated on her [E/C] irises, awaiting her response.

"I...I wanted to say I love you." His hand grasped her arm, not bothering to hide his blushing face this time. He felt her eyes scan him as if trying to reassure herself this was truly happening. "I know you didn't feel this way back then, so for a while, I struggled to even say I liked you. Scared that you'd continue to grow tired."

"[Y/N], I was never tired of them." He needed her to know that, his day wasn't complete unless he heard her say those words. "To be honest, I felt worried when you stopped saying it. Wondering if I had done something wrong..."

"I was trying to convince myself that having you as a friend was good enough for me, that I'd force myself to live with my feelings while still being beside you—but I couldn't, I wanted to let go and failed at that too." She took in a shaky breath, his hand squeezing her arm tighter, the air felt heavy despite them clearly confessing to each other.

"Heh, it's my fault you felt that way and I can't turn back time but know that I do in fact have feelings for you [Y/N]." Senku trailed off, feeling her hands come up to rest on his shoulders. "I might not be enough, although, if you want me, I'm right here."

Senku didn't get a chance to cringe at himself as [Y/N] got on her tippy toes and placed a kiss on his lips, lingering for a few seconds before pulling away and panicking at his baffled face.

"Sorry! Sorry..."

"No, It's just that...I wasn't ready." Her lips felt soft, intimacy wasn't something that interested him as it did everyone else and his first kiss wasn't on his checklist but coming from [Y/N] he actually really didn't mind.

"Okay, I'm ready now." Senku initiated the second kiss, hand letting go of her arm and sliding around her waist. They separated, noses touching tips and they held a deep eye contact. The cold night no longer froze them, feeling warmth in the embrace and in their hearts.

"Senku I—"

"Love me, I know."

︽❀═══❀═══⌘═══⌘═══❀═══❀═══⌘═══⌘═══❀═══❀︾

When is a one-shot too long or too short? 🧍‍♀️

[sixxels]

diva

nerd!gojo loves his absolute diva of a girlfriend.

there were a lot of things satoru gojo didn’t understand.

why his professor insisted on giving 7 a.m. lectures when good sleep was scientifically proven to improve cognitive function. why the wifi crashed every time he needed to upload his lab reports. why textbooks cost more than his monthly rent.

but the one thing he understood better than anything? he was in love with his girlfriend. dramatic, high-maintenance, lip gloss shining at 8am, the whole thing was tiring sometimes, sure. but you were his lifeline, his escape.

and what surprised him the most was how much he loved the little, mundane stuff. the small rituals. the shared routines that stitched your days together.

he liked meeting you outside your psych class, where you'd always emerged with a dramatic sigh like the lecture had emotionally wounded you. “he used brain rot memes on the slides, satoru. i can’t keep doing this.” you'd say that, every time, and he’d laugh like it was the first time you'd ever said it.

he especially liked your aesthetic, full-on mcbling throwback fantasy. pink velour, rhinestoned phone cases, bedazzled hair clips, juicy sweats like it was 2004 and you were the star of your own teen drama. you looked like a fever dream from a y2k music video, and he was obsessed. the lip gloss, the glitter, the low-rise jeans with butterfly charms. it all should’ve been too much. but on you? it was perfect.

“you look like a bratz doll,” he told you once, eyes wide like he couldn’t believe you were real. “and i’d die for every version of you.”

you just blew him a kiss and said, “good. you’re supposed to.”

he liked when the two of you grabbed coffee between classes. you ordered like you were reciting a poem—iced vanilla oat milk latte, one pump caramel, light ice, no cold foam. he never even looked at the menu anymore. you'd sip yours and hum in approval while he nursed a plain black coffee like the boring nerd he was. you always wrinkled your nose at it. “you drink that voluntarily? for what? character development?”

he liked when you studied in the library together. you never lasted more than twenty minutes without complaining. “why is econ just… numbers pretending to have feelings? such a drag.” you'd whine, head resting dramatically on his shoulder, perfume hitting him like a truck. he pretended to be annoyed, but secretly, he loved when you did that—like he was her safe little island in a sea of boring lectures and broken printers.

he liked how you always dragged him around like a personal pet. pulling him into stores as you judged products you knew you were never going to buy. “should i get this ‘girlboss’ notebook?” you asked once. “cant tell if it's empowering or a hate crime.” he still didn’t know what that meant, but you looked cute holding it.

he liked the late-night walks after study sessions. you always wore those fuzzy slippers that weren’t meant for outdoors, but insisted they were “serving.” the two of you would walk under the string lights strung across the quad, your perfectly managed hand in his, talking about nothing and everything—professors the both of you hated, dumb memes, the little thoughts you had. "y'know toru, having a hot nerd like you on my arm makes me look 100 times more cunty."

and he especially liked when you'd pull him into empty stairwells just to kiss him, pulling him down to your height and shoving your tongue down his throat as you teasingly grinded your hips against his crotch in a passionate exchange. your lip gloss sticking to his mouth like a brand. “to keep you focused,” she’d tease, before strutting off like she hadn’t just short-circuited his entire brain, he was now faced with a problem in his pants.

it wasn’t just the big gestures or grand declarations that made him love you. it was the daily stuff—the little, ordinary routines that you made feel magical, chaotic, and unmistakably yours.

he didn’t need roses or fireworks.

he had oat milk lattes, sarcastic one-liners, stolen kisses between classes, and you.

and that was more than enough.

m.list !!

[notiddygothgf]

drabble: dante sparda x latina!reader prompt: hey guys! i wanted to write something short to make up for the delay on pretty (i promise, i ain't forget about y'all, i just got sick lol) hot take. i feel like dante would be one of those white boys who will ride for their latina gfs. idk, like he'd be into that crazy feisty toxica shit yfm? (im projecting) cw: cliche hispanic reader bc i fear i am the stereotype, toxica gf, dante is so in love with her lmfaooo, smutty content, reader is hispanic but anyone can/is welcome to read!! muah!

dante is a man of many talents. he can slay devils, he can dance like no one’s watching, and he can eat pussy like a starving dog. in fact, there is nothing that he thinks he can’t handle (with a little practice, of course). he loves a challenge, and you’re certainly no exception.

so, when he (literally) came crashing into your life one day, sent flying in through your living room window after a demon blew up right in his face, it was game over for him. strong women were his fucking weakness, and there you were, only half as tall as him, donning a bonnet and a fuzzy robe with some pink slippers, and... was that a pan in your hand?

before he could even think twice, you were swinging on him, bringing the cookware up into the air and smacking him straight across the face with it -- hard enough to make his head jolt to the side. if he weren't half demon, that probably would have been enough to knock him out. he was, though, so the pan took more damage than he probably did.

still, it hurt like a bitch.

"fucking ow," he hissed, rubbing his head where it had made contact with your pan.

surprised but not the slightest bit unmotivated, you tossed the bent weapon to the side and decided to use your whole body weight (which wasn't much) to shove him towards the door, shouting phrases at him in a language he didn't understand the whole time. he didn't even have a chance to explain himself before he was standing in the hallway outside of your apartment with the door slammed in his face.

confused was an understatement.

dante felt bad, honest. so, when he came back a week later (even though he definitely shouldn't have), he made sure to bring an olive branch (a metaphorical one. it was actually a bouquet of flowers). he made sure to tidy up his appearance before he knocked at your door.

you answered, much to his surprise, though you didn't look too happy to see him. (he couldn't imagine why you would have been).

truthfully, he didn't really know why he felt the need to come back. hell, he didn't even know if you spoke the same language at all, let alone enough for him to convey his apology.

still, he wanted to try.

"I wanted to say that I'm-- uh..." he trailed off, suddenly a whole lot less confident now that you were actually standing here. this time, you were wearing a pretty nightgown, one made of red satin, and it made his brain short circuit. when his eyes fell on your lips, your lashes, he realized something.

he was fucking nervous.

"I'm sorry about the window," He chuckled, rubbing the back of his head. "I wasn't really sure if you spoke english 'cause you were yelling at me in spanish-- least, I think it was spanish-- god, I'm really screwing this up."

you looked at him expectantly, brow quirked, hand on your hip.

"for you. i'm sorry. i want to make it up to you." he cleared his throat, holding the bouquet out to you. "por... uh... tu."

you turned up your nose. "I speak english, dumbass."

you had the prettiest fucking accent, a twang to the words. he'd never heard someone speak the way you did, and he was entranced. snatching the flowers from his hands, you eyed them up precariously, like they might contain a bomb.

"flowers ain't enough to make up for the window you busted through," you added. "dickhead."

"i know, i know," he sighed. then, feeling bold (for some reason), he decided to push his luck. "maybe i can... make it up to you over dinner sometime?"

"tu 'ta loco," you huffed out a humorless laugh, leaning on the door with your hip. "you think i'm gonna go to dinner with you?"

dante glanced behind you. you'd fixed the window already.

"lucky guess?" he tried.

you bit back, "not a chance."

then, you were moving to shut the door on him -- again, only this time, he came prepared. throwing his arm out, he stopped it just in time, reaching for your arm.

"wait," he sighed.

you glanced back at him, but you didn't turn around. she's mad at me again.

he didn't know why he cared, but that was besides the point. he wanted to make things right (you were smoking hot).

so, he added, "i'll make it worth your while, promise. pretty thing like you deserves a meal."

he didn't know what was more shocking, the fact that he'd actually been ballsy enough to say it, or the fact that you actually thought about it, mulling the idea over in your head while you worried your lower lip.

you looked him up and down -- slowly. then, once you decided you were pleased by what you saw, you jerked your head up at him, "I get off work at six tomorrow. swing by at seven and i'll think about it."

then, you closed the door, and he was punching the air, victorious.

he was there at seven that night, then the night after that, and before he knew it, the two of you were going six months strong. the longest he'd ever been with a girl, honestly, but when you'd threatened to kill him if he cheated on you, he figured he liked it too much to even think about leaving.

he was head over heels -- fucking crazy about you. he loved everything about you. your shows, your music, the way you'd wake up extra early on sunday and blast music while you cleaned the apartment. he even loved your cooking, fuck, american food just didn't compare. half a year in, and he'd already met your entire family (including all of your cousins and your great-abuela, who'd insisted upon him kissing her on the cheek).

he was smitten.

you cared for him. deeply. more deeply than he'd ever thought anyone would. he loved it. even when you'd go so far as to blow his phone up with missed calls when he was late to call you -- even if he was in the middle of a mission, he'd make it a point to answer.

no, he knew better than to leave his princess waiting.

"what's up, babe?" he would ask into the receiver, firing off a few rounds at a demon and hoping they hit their target. "i'm kinda busy right now."

"kinda busy? i been waitin' for that ass to call me for three fuckin' hours and you're kinda busy?" you hissed back, the words rushed and quick, "maldito estúpido. llevo esperando toda la noche-- te voy a matar, entiendes?"

**translation: fucking stupid. i've been waiting all night. i'm going to kill you, do you understand me?

god, you sounded so fucking sexy.

"i'm in the middle--" he fired off another shot, narrowly avoiding an airborne object. this time, it hit its target. "i'm kinda fighting for my life right now."

"espera a que llegas a casa-- vas a tener que pelear conmigo! que loco!"

(loose) translation: just you wait until you get home, you're gonna fight me next. how crazy.

he didn't have a fucking clue what you were saying, but he sure as hell loved it when you spoke spanish to him.

"mmm, sounds great, baby," he hummed back. "you talkin' dirty to me?"

"something like that," you huffed back. "you better be home in ten minutes."

hell, he even loved fighting with you. he fuckin' loved your attitude. it would get him all hot and bothered when you'd raise your pretty voice at him, yelling at him for tracking blood on the floor or coming back late.

in fact, he'd be grinning ear to ear while you tore him to shreds. when you reached for your slipper and raised it at him, he didn't bother ducking. no, he knew you loved him.

again, positively smitten.

"hijo de puta!"

it wasn't until you raised your hand to (lightly) hit his chest that he snapped out of his (blah blah blah, place name proper name, backstory stuff) reverie, and caught you by the wrist.

"I have no idea what that means," he commented, eyes dropping down to yours, tongue licking over his lips. hell -- looking at you like this, flushed and fire-eyed, he couldn’t even remember why you two had been fighting in the first place. "but it sounds hot. i'm in."

"means son of a bitch, asshole," you rolled your eyes. "you fail spanish class or what?"

"must've missed that unit, loca" he grinned back. "now, c'mere."

call him corny, but it got you smiling, and that's what mattered.

you barely had time to gasp before he was lifting you up off the ground, like you weighed nothing.

“put me down, you fucking asshole!” you started, smacking at his shoulders, squirming in his arms, but it didn't do much to stop him from kissing you.

hard.

it shut you up immediately -- your fingers dug into him, your legs tightening around his hips without thinking. you melted into him before you could even fucking stop yourself.

"puñeta," you muttered against his lips.

as dante carried you toward the bedroom, still breathing against your mouth between kisses, he murmured low in your ear:

“I know how we can resolve this.”

and you didn’t argue. no, you let him lay you down on that beautiful queen sized bed of yours and get down on his knees, kissing down your chest, your stomach, and inching down south.

see, that was another thing dante loved about you. your taste.

he could eat you for hours (and he planned on it). licking up and down your core, getting his face all wet with your sweet juices. he would die for the pussy, without a doubt.

"papí" you'd call him. papito, if you wanted something. he fucking loved it. it made him feel like the man.

shit, he was addicted to it. he would eat for his pleasure, fingers digging into your hips, wiggling his head side to side, letting you tangle your hands in his hair and steer his head whichever way you pleased. he was your bitch, after all.

and, who knows, after he'd finish making you cum all over his face and his fingers, he might just try and fuck that attitude out of you -- just the way you liked. the way that would have you clawing at the sheets, at his back, screaming muffled words of praise into the pillow, making a mess on the sheets.

but, then again, he knew it would be back the next day.

that's what he loved most about you, after all.

a/n: yk i had to spoil my girls. #sorrynotsorry lmfao!!! i hope yall liked it! pretty part 2 coming soon (i swear this time!) xxx

I obviously do not own dmc or anything related to it. please do not reproduce, copy, or translate my works anywhere. dont fk w me im a bruja.

also: come find me on my wattpad if u wanna interact more!

taglist: @mitsuyeahhh , @sleepysnk , @enneadec , @noaabean , @em1e , @drakensdarling , @bertholdts--butt , @satanlovesusall666 , @mitsuwuyaa , @noctifule , @scaraphobia , @ask-the-insect-hashira , @lovingranchturkeyweasel , @bontensbabygirl , @slvdsjjk , @novacrystalli , @hanmastattoos , @kodzuksn , @hqtiny , @ohmaiscool15 , @redlittlequeen , @leivane , @goldeneagles-posts , @yeahblahlame , @no-oneelsebutnsu , @cookiesandcreammy , @cawwn , @the-haitani-baton , @littlelovebug98 , @armani78 , @mindurownbussines , @kokos-property , @violetmatcha , @hp-simp505 , @mrshayakawaa

wanna join the taglist?

[imaxdead]

my cats gayer than me

— ★ k. haerin x female reader

synopsis - your cat snow’s been acting weird—coming home late, smelling like someone else. when she doesn’t return one night, you go looking… and find her with another cat. turns out, that cat belongs to your cold, quiet neighbor kang haerin

genre - idk actually they’re so awkward w eo, fluffy

warning - strong language, nothing else

a/n - first time posting a fic pls gays don’t judge me 💔🥀

snow had been acting suspicious

and not in the “knocked over your succulent again” kind of way

no, your perfect, pampered, indoor princess had started going out

as in: climbing out your window like a rebellious teenager and coming back hours later with grass in her fur and a look in her eyes that said i’ve seen things

she used to be the clingiest little snowball — hence the name.

now she barely meowed at you when she returned, and worst of all?

she smelled like someone else

like betrayal

lol jk, but like... chicken-flavored betrayal yum

so naturally, being the concerned parent that you were, you called the only person who would understand the gravity of the situation: your best friend, hanni

you were pacing around your room like a full-blown single mother mid-breakdown, phone to your ear, one slipper on, the other missing (just like your cat)

“she’s a child,” you grumbled into your phone

“you said she’s two,” hanni deadpanned from the other end

“she’s emotionally a child.”

“she’s emotionally out getting laid while you’re emotionally constipated,” hanni yawned. “face it, your cat’s just in heat.”

“no, i’m in heat,” you shot back, “she’s missing.”

“or getting laid somewhere, maybe.”

“she came home glowing yesterday. glowing like a woman in love.”

“that’s just catnip, you dumb bitch.”

you sighed, dragging a hand over your face. “i swear if she doesn’t come home tonight i’m calling the cops.”

“on who, the streets?”

“on whoever put that twinkle in her eye.”

★. ★. ★. ★. ★.

cut to: 12:03am

snow still not home.

cut to: 12:27am

you outside in sweats and socks with one slipper because the other one’s been missing since june, flashlight app open, whisper-screaming “snowwwwwwwww” like a deranged disney princess

you had checked the entire apartment complex, the bushes, even the back alley where the mean ginger cat with the eye scar hangs out

no snow. no white fluffy traitor

“i’m gonna die,” you muttered. “i’m gonna die and they’ll find me half-eaten by alley raccoons.”

“meow.”

you froze.

“meow...? SNOW!?”

“meow.”

you turned.

and then you saw her.

snow.

perched on the low garden wall, tail swishing like a smug little bitch. and right beside her — another cat. tall, black, mysterious.

looking like the kind of feline that listens to lana del rey and journals about trauma

they were nuzzling.

they were nuzzling.

your jaw dropped. “what—”

“she’s been here for an hour,” a soft voice said from your leftyou yelped, flinching so hard your flashlight dropped.

and standing there, hoodie too big, slippers matching (both slippers) was none other than kang haerin

your neighbor.

your mysterious, quiet, cold neighbor

the one you secretly thought was cute

the one you also thought would murder you for knocking too loud

“…you scared the shit outta me,” you blurted, clutching your heart

haerin blinked slowly. “you scared me. you were stomping like you were summoning a demon.”

“that’s just how i walk,” you mumbled.

she looked down at your feet. “…with one slipper?”

“can we not talk about this.”

silence.

you cleared your throat. “uh. that’s… my cat. the white one.”

“i figured.” she looked back at the two cats who were now straight up cuddling.

“and the black one is…?”

“moon. my cat.”

“…moon,” you repeated.

“yeah.”

“…like the moon?”

“…yes.”

you nodded slowly, brain short-circuiting. “so. they’re… close?”

“they’re dating,” haerin said flatly.

“they’re—” you choked.

“they’re dating??”

“yeah. snow comes by every other night. i feed them and they just hang out.”

“hang out?? she told me she was playing with leaves!!”

“…you talk to her?”

“shut up.”

you dropped to sit on the curb, utterly defeated. “i can’t believe this. my cat’s gay. and got a girlfriend before i did.”

“uh, same,” haerin said.

you looked up. “…what?”

“i mean,” she shrugged, “moon’s my cat. i’m single. she’s not.”

your brain stalled. oh, she’s single!

“so we’re both single. and our cats are dating.”

“yeah.”

“they’re like… lesbians in love.”

“guess so.”

“and we’re… co—nevermind..”

“pardon?” she asked gently.

“n-nothing..”

a silence fell.

snow let out a long, affectionate meow, brushing up against moon

you and haerin both turned to look. “…i thought she was straight,” you whispered. “i mean, hanni said so. that snow’s on heat. getting laid somewhere..”

“i thought moon was shy,” haerin whispered back.

you stared at each other.

then looked away, awkward.

“…anyway,” you stood up, brushing off your butt. “thanks for… y’know. watching over her. and not… stealing her. or sacrificing her to a witch cult.”

haerin actually laughed at that.

laughed. soft and real.

“you’re not as crazy as i expected,” she said.

you blinked. “wait. you thought i was crazy?”

“you yelled at the vending machine last week.”

“wait... YOU SAW THAT!?”

“yeah, while i was getting back home.”

OMG, SHE KNOWS YOU. SHE NOTICED YOU. YOU HAVE A CHANCE—nevermind. let’s calm down now.

you cleared your throat. “it ate my money. that was a valid crash out.”

another small laugh.

you scratched your neck, suddenly unsure what to do with your hands. “uh… wanna trade numbers? y’know, in case the cats get married and we have to plan the wedding?”

haerin raised a brow, but handed you her phone. “sure.”

you typed in your number, trying to act normal and not like your heartbeat was about to fly out your ears. “cool. uh. yeah.”

“cool,” she nodded.

you reached for snow, who looked up at you like you were interrupting her first date.

“we’re going home, missy.”

“we are too” haerin picked up moon.

“uhm.. see you around?”

“yeah,” she said, and then, quietly, “hopefully sooner.”

you walked away, snow tucked under your arm, heart racing like you just got hit by cupid’s nerf gun

once inside, you tossed your slipper across the room and collapsed on your bed, brain screaming

you were into her.

and she wasn’t cold.

she was just… shy and soft-spoken and sweet and kind and pretty and cute and adorable and beautiful and so more ugh

and maybe possibly gay.

and your cat’s girlfriend’s mum.

and your number was in her phone.

and suddenly, your phone buzzed.

[unknown number]: hi sorry i forgot to say g’night

[unknown number]: it’s haerin btw

you stared at the messages, cheeks on fire

you quickly saved her name as moon’s mum before replying to her back.

snow hopped onto your bed, smug as ever.

“don’t even, you little traitor,” you muttered.

she meowed once, victorious

[pankesitopank]

AHHHH I SAW YOU DID MY REQUEST THANK YOUUU I LOVED IT IT WAS SO CUTE I couldn’t message you when I saw bc I was in the middle of finals (sorryy 😖) but I really loved it thank uu 😍. Anyway I have another request unfortunately #desperate. I was thinking of like bff Jisung who’s like in love w reader and is babysitting their dog and finds a special toy while looking for clothes to wear and becomes all whiney and stuttery n stuff while using it 😛. thank you for listening 🙂‍↕️

Caught!

wc: 3k

bff!han jisung x fem!reader

cw: bff to lovers - use of vibrator - reader catches him on the act - perv jisung - overstimulation - whiny and desperate han - creampie - crying (han) - softdom!reader

note: i love you chezzeballs300

You hadn’t meant to leave him alone. Not really. But your dog had taken to Jisung like he was a goddamn chew toy with a pulse, and your last-minute appointment couldn’t be rescheduled. You’d barely shoved your shoes on when Jisung waved you out the door with that lazy grin of his, already on the floor being licked to death.

“I got him, don’t worry!” he called through the laughter, voice slightly muffled under the weight of sixty pounds of overexcited canine. “Go! Save the world or whatever!”

You’d thanked him, blown him a kiss out of habit. He’d caught it and pressed it to his cheek with a dopey smile you didn’t see.

So now here he was—alone in your apartment. Hair fluffed from your couch pillows. Hoodie slightly damp from dog drool. Slippers too small and squishing his toes.

And he was comfortable. Really. You were his best friend. This was fine.

He flopped onto your bed after taking the dog for a quick walk, scrolling through his phone and letting the soft afternoon light warm his face. The windows were cracked open just enough to let in the summer breeze. Somewhere down the hall, your laundry machine hummed a rhythm he didn’t recognize.

Your scent was everywhere.

That shampoo you always used, the hint of vanilla you swore wasn’t perfume. The gentle, feminine quiet of your space that wrapped around him like a blanket. Jisung buried his face in your pillow before he could stop himself.

And then—

Drool.

“Aw, come on,” he groaned, scrubbing at the wet patch on his hoodie. “Dude, you’re worse than me.”

The dog blinked innocently from the floor, tail wagging in slow thumps.

Jisung sighed, tugging the hoodie off over his head and padding toward your dresser. You’d told him he could borrow anything while he was here—something about the drawer on the left and not the right—

He opened the right.

And that’s when it hit him.

A drawer he’d never seen you touch in front of him. One that definitely didn’t contain any normal clothes.

And nestled between a rolled-up sleep mask and a bottle of lube so old the cap was crusted—

Was a vibrator.

Not some cheap little bullet either. This thing was sleek. Curved. Used.

His mouth went dry.

For a moment he just stared, heartbeat drumming in his ears, vision tunneling until the only thing in focus was that.

It looked too pretty to be real.

Then his brain kicked in—and immediately short-circuited.

That’s hers. That’s been inside her. She’s used that—she’s used that and—fuck—she’s moaned—

He slammed the drawer shut so fast the dog startled.

“Shit,” he hissed, running a hand through his hair. “Shitshitshit.”

What the fuck was he doing snooping?

You trusted him. He was supposed to be watching your dog, not—

Not imagining how you’d look riding that thing with your thighs shaking and your pretty mouth falling open.

Jisung squeezed his eyes shut and sat down hard on the edge of your bed. He could feel it already: the way his dick was pressing uncomfortably against the inside of his sweats, half-hard and pulsing with a guilt-soaked need he knew he shouldn’t indulge.

You were his best friend.

He loved you.

Like loved you. Not just the kind of love you joked about in texts or danced around during movie nights. Real love. The kind that made his stomach flip when you curled up next to him. The kind that made him remember everything you ever said about your turn-ons, your exes, your toys.

The kind that made him ache when you looked at him like he was just your friend.

And now he was sitting in your room, with the image of your vibrator burned into his brain and your scent all over him.

He licked his lips. Swallowed.

Then stood up.

Slowly, quietly, he opened the drawer again.

His hands shook.

The toy was heavier than he expected. Warm, almost. Like you’d just used it. Like it still held some phantom trace of you—your heat, your slick, your sounds.

His breath hitched.

“Just look,” he muttered to himself, like a mantra. “Just… look.”

But his other hand was already drifting south. Already palming himself through his pants. Already trembling with the beginnings of need.

He should put it back.

He should leave.

But instead, Jisung lay back on your bed, clutching your pillow like a lifeline, your vibrator held to his chest like a stolen secret.

And with his other hand, he pushed his sweats down just enough to free his cock

It sprang up flushed and leaking, angry and desperate, twitching at the thought of you. The idea of you using this—of you putting it inside yourself, moaning, writhing, calling out his name—

Wait.

No. Not his name.

Not unless you thought of him when you used it.

The idea nearly made him choke.

“F-fuck,” he whispered, pressing the tip of the toy to his lips. “I’m so fucked.”

And he was.

Because the second the base buzzed to life in his hand, Jisung knew there was no going back.

The first time the vibrator touched his cock, Jisung gasped—sharp and choked, like his lungs couldn’t decide if he should breathe or beg.

The buzz was low, steady. Gentle at first. But the moment it kissed his flushed, aching tip, he jerked so hard his knees buckled. His back arched off your bed and he let out the softest, most pathetic little whine, one hand immediately flying to his mouth to muffle the sound.

It still slipped out around his fingers.

“F-fuck… oh—god…”

He was already too sensitive.

Already leaking—already so fucking hard from just thinking about you, about the drawer, about what it must’ve looked like when you used this on yourself.

Did you lay back?

Did you ride it?

Did you touch your tits at the same time?

Did you moan his name, even once?

The thought of you squirming under your own fingers, lips parted and brows furrowed in concentration, made his hips twitch up against the toy, chasing the sensation greedily. He was already losing it. Already dizzy.

And then his traitor mouth slipped—

“Yn…”

His voice was so needy, so soft—like a prayer he didn’t realize he was saying out loud.

And worse: your dog was still asleep in the corner of the room, completely unaware that his babysitter was currently rutting against your vibrator like it was the only thing keeping him alive.

He should stop.

He needed to stop.

But the moment he teased the base of the toy under his shaft—pressed it there, just right, right along that strip of oversensitive nerve—his hips jerked again. His cock throbbed hard enough to make his stomach clench, and then—wetness.

Spit.

He’d drooled onto your pillow.

“Oh my god,” he whimpered, biting his knuckle hard, cheeks burning. “What the fuck is wrong with me—”

But the buzzing didn’t stop.

The vibrations crawled up the length of him, buzzing along the ridge of his cock, teasing the base, the tip, circling back down again like a cruel whisper of the real thing.

He kept fucking into it. Barely-there thrusts. His thighs trembled, abs flexing with every clench, every desperate grind, every little shiver.

He squeezed his eyes shut tight. He had to. If he opened them, he’d see your room. Your bed. Your pillow soaked in his spit. The vibrator you’d actually used between his legs. And maybe—maybe the worst part—

He liked it.

No—he loved it. The guilt. The heat. The pathetic need in his gut. The idea that you could come home right now and find him like this—half-naked and panting, so far gone he couldn’t even stop grinding against something that still smelled like you.

He let out a broken, high-pitched sound, somewhere between a sob and a gasp, chest heaving as he humped the toy again and again and again. It wasn’t even in him. Just pressed to his cock. Just buzzing there while he fucked into it like a dog in heat.

“Please—” he whispered, not even sure what he was begging for. “Please—pleaseplease—oh fuck, I-I need—”

He didn’t finish the sentence. Couldn’t.

Because the thought was you.

He needed you.

You, in that tiny crop top you wore when you cleaned the kitchen. You, in the gym shorts that always hugged your thighs. You, teasing him when you bent over to pick up your keys, laughing when he turned red and looked away.

You, right now—coming home, walking in, catching him like this—

Your voice: “Jisung?”

Your eyes: wide. Confused. Hot.

Your mouth: “What are you doing with that?”

Fuck.

His cock pulsed.

“Ah—!” he gasped, pressing the toy harder against himself. “I’m sorry, I—I didn’t— I just— I wanted to feel— I-I didn’t mean to—!”

He was panting now, full-body shaking, one hand still holding the toy, the other clutching your pillow like it might keep him anchored.

His hips moved faster.

He was getting close.

Too close.

And the guilt felt so good—the idea of being caught, of being used, of you looking down at him and punishing him for being so filthy, so desperate, so in love—

“Fuckfuckfuckfuck I’m gonna—!”

He came with a shudder, a soft, helpless cry muffled against your sheets.

Hot, sticky ropes spurted over his belly, thighs, the toy. His toes curled. His breath caught.

But the vibrator didn’t stop.

The buzz kept going. Unrelenting.

And so did he.

His hips bucked again.

His thighs trembled.

A second orgasm started building before he could even recover.

“No—fuck—can’t—! I c-can’t again, I just—hngh—”

His stomach muscles spasmed, his eyes screwed shut, his whole body thrumming with overstimulation.

But it felt so good.

So filthy.

So right.

And the worst part?

He still imagined you walking in.

Because if you saw him like this—sweaty, flushed, cock twitching helplessly against the vibrator—

Maybe you’d finally understand just how badly he wanted you.

You opened the door with your keys already between your fingers and your tote bag half-falling off your shoulder.

You were only supposed to be gone for a couple of hours—just a quick run to your sister’s place to drop off some things. But now it was past 7, the sun was setting warm and low through your living room windows, and your dog hadn’t come running to greet you.

Odd.

You slipped off your shoes. The leash was still hanging where you left it. Food untouched. Water bowl full.

And the bedroom door… cracked.

Soft, breathy noise filtered through the silence.

Whimpering?

You frowned.

“Jisung?” you called. “Everything okay?”

No answer.

So you stepped forward—quietly, slowly, like you were afraid of what you might find—and when you pushed the door open just an inch more, the scene made your brain stop working.

Because there he was.

In your bed.

Sweaty. Blushing. Panting.

Naked except for the hem of one of your oversized shirts pushed up to his chest. His thighs were trembling, knees half-bent, his whole body twitching and shuddering with aftershocks. And between his legs…

Your vibrator.

Still buzzing.

Still wet.

Still smeared with his cum.

“Jisung?” you breathed, mouth falling open.

His head whipped around so fast it looked like it hurt. Wide brown eyes locked on yours—pure terror for a second, followed by guilt, embarrassment, and something else you couldn’t quite name.

“W-wait, I—I can explain—!” he choked, scrambling to toss the toy aside and cover himself, but his legs wouldn’t cooperate. His hips bucked helplessly, his thighs shook, and he made this desperate little whine like the shame was eating him alive.

“I—fuck, I didn’t mean to—I was just—! I just wanted to wear something comfy, and I saw it in the drawer, and I—I didn’t know I was gonna—fuck, please don’t hate me—”

He looked like he was about to cry.

You just stood there, heart thudding in your chest, mouth dry.

You should’ve yelled.

Should’ve kicked him out.

Should’ve said anything.

But instead, the only thing that came out of your mouth was—

“…Did you come thinking about me?”

Silence.

Thick. Stretched. Breathless.

His eyes went even wider—doe-like and shocked, his mouth open but speechless.

And then—softly, brokenly, like admitting it would shatter him—

“…yes.”

You stepped closer.

He blinked up at you.

You reached for the vibrator—sticky, still buzzing, abandoned on the sheets—and clicked it off.

Then you tossed it onto the floor.

And climbed on top of him.

“W-wait—! What are you—? You’re not mad?” he asked, voice cracking, hands hovering like he didn’t know where to touch. His dick was still twitching, still hard, shiny with cum, flushed to the tip.

And you—your thighs were already straddling his hips.

“No,” you said, voice low. “I’m not mad.”

His breath hitched.

“…Are you gonna punish me?”

You smirked.

“No,” you said again. Then, softer—“I’m gonna ride you.”

Jisung whimpered.

The second your fingers wrapped around his cock, he twitched like he’d been electrocuted.

He was still sensitive—overstimulated and leaking, head thrown back, thighs shaking under your touch—but he wanted it. Every inch of him screamed for it.

“You’re such a mess,” you whispered, dragging your folds along his length. “Were you humping my toy like a little pervert?”

“I—nngh—yes,” he gasped. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I couldn’t stop—”

“You came on my sheets,” you said, rubbing the tip against your entrance. “Came all over yourself. Thinking about me.”

He nodded frantically, lips parted, cheeks flushed red.

“I’m disgusting,” he choked, voice wrecked. “I-I didn’t mean to, I just— I love you, and—”

You froze.

Your eyes snapped to his.

“…You love me?”

His breath caught.

Shit.

But it was too late to lie.

“I—I do,” he whispered. “I’ve been in love with you forever. I didn’t know what to do anymore, and when I saw that thing in your drawer I just— I lost it. I’m sorry—please don’t make me leave—”

You leaned down and kissed him.

Messy. Hot. Tongue first. Your teeth scraped his bottom lip, and he moaned into your mouth like he’d been waiting years for this.

“I’m not gonna make you leave,” you said. “I’m gonna fuck you until you forget your name.”

And then you sank down on him.

His reaction was instant.

High-pitched, breathless whimpers. Eyes rolling back. Hands flying to your hips but not gripping—just resting, like he was too afraid to move, too afraid to mess this up.

You took him slowly, inch by inch, feeling the way he stretched you open, how wet you already were just from watching him. His cock filled you completely, bottomed out with a soft slap, and he sobbed.

“P-please,” he begged. “Please move, I—I need—oh god—”

You rolled your hips.

Once.

Then again.

And Jisung lost it.

His nails dug into the blankets, his head buried into your shoulder, breath coming in sharp, uneven pants.

“Y-you’re so warm,” he gasped. “Feels so good—feels better than anything, oh fuck, I’m—”

You bounced on him slowly, lazily—grinding down in circles, making him feel it. He was already whining again, that sweet pitch in his voice like he couldn’t decide if he was going to cry or come.

You tugged his hair. Tilted his head back.

“Look at me.”

He did.

And you kissed him again—slow and open-mouthed this time, swallowing his sounds, letting him moan into you like he needed it to survive.

“I’m not mad,” you whispered. “I’ve wanted this too.”

His eyes filled with tears.

“I—I love you—”

“I know.”

You bounced faster.

His hips tried to chase yours, but he was too fucked out. He couldn’t keep up. He just whimpered, head back, cock twitching deep inside you.

And when your walls squeezed around him, when your nails raked down his chest, when you leaned in and moaned his name right against his ear—

He came.

Hard.

Hot.

Sticky.

With a shout and a tremble, his whole body went rigid under you, cum spilling deep, so much of it, and he was still babbling—

“I love you—thank you—fuck, I love you—I love you”

You stayed there.

Grinding through it, fucking him through the high, kissing the corners of his wet, pretty eyes.

And when you came next, clenched tight around his sensitive cock with a soft cry of his name, he nearly passed out from how good it felt.

You didn’t get off him for a long time.

He wouldn’t let you.

Not because he needed to go again (though he definitely did), but because he didn’t want to let go. His arms curled around your waist, his face pressed into your chest, his voice soft and hazy.

“…so I guess I’m not just the dog babysitter anymore, huh?”

You laughed.

“No, Ji,” you whispered. “You’re mine.”

And he smiled into your skin.

“Finally

[darkparablesfan]

Hello again! I am here again with some headcanons. This for a fan event that me and a friend of mine @shuji123 made up!

The event basically is based on Cinderella.

People wears magical glass slippers that leads them to the dance floor where they would dance with their fated true love. However they also been enchanted by a face blind spell that will only disappear once the dance is over.

Here is the boys reactions when they see you as their fated true love.

🌹 Riddle Rosehearts

As the enchantment shatters like spun glass, Riddle turns with a calm breath—expecting decorum.

Then he sees you.

His expression freezes. For a split second, he doesn’t speak—he just stares, eyes wide and full of quiet disbelief. “You…?” The word is barely above a whisper.

Then the guilt sets in. How many times has he scolded you for things you did with good intentions? How many times did you show him kindness anyway? He takes a step forward, voice trembling. “I… I never imagined it could be you. But… I’m glad it is.”

---

♣️ Trey Clover

The moment the spell fades, Trey blinks slowly, turning toward the person who had just been laughing softly with him about his “two left feet.”

“Y/N?”

His smile comes easily—gentle, warm, a little shy around the edges. “Guess the stars were right—you are my perfect match.” He chuckles quietly, then takes off his glasses to clean them—nerves creeping up behind his calm demeanor. “Well, if you’ll have me… I’d be honored to keep dancing with you, glass slippers or not.”

---

♦️ Cater Diamond

He opens his eyes, expecting something MagiCam-worthy. But when he sees you, he just stops.

Like the music vanished.

His painted-on grin falters for a heartbeat, replaced with something real. His brows rise—he’s stunned. Then he lets out a small, breathless laugh. “Woah. You’re seriously my match?” And then softer, “I mean… wow. It feels right.”

Then he’s back to beaming. “Gonna need a selfie with you ASAP, babe~ This moment? Totally priceless.”

---

♥️ Ace Trappola

When the magic lifts, Ace looks around like “okay, let’s get this over with.”

And then—he sees You.

His entire face short-circuits.

“Wha—HUH?! You’re kidding, right?” He laughs, flustered, then rubs the back of his neck with a huff. “I mean—not that I’m complaining or anything, but seriously? You?”

Then, with a rare, genuine softness: “…Guess that explains why dancing with you didn’t suck.” He grins, cheeks red. “Don’t get used to the flattery, ‘kay?”

---

♠️ Deuce Spade

The spell breaks—and Deuce turns to look at his partner, expecting someone graceful, someone elegant...

Instead, he sees you. His eyes go huge. “Y-Y/N?!”

He stumbles over his own feet. “I—I didn’t… You’re my…? Oh man.” His hands hover awkwardly like he’s not sure whether to bow or apologize. Then, slowly, a sincere smile spreads across his face.

“I’m really happy. I can’t believe it’s you… but I’m so glad it is.” He gently offers his hand again—his ears pink. “If it’s okay… can we dance one more time? Just us.”

---

🦁 Leona Kingscholar

The spell lifts, and Leona exhales, impatient. He turns lazily—bored and ready to brush the whole thing off.

But then… he sees you.

His eyes narrow. Then open.

“…Tch.”

You. Of all people.

He looks away for a long moment, jaw clenched. “You?” he mutters under his breath. Not angry—afraid. Because someone like you is dangerous. You are the type that could slip under his guard and stay.

“…You’re really unlucky, you know,” he finally says, voice low. “Getting stuck with a guy like me.”

But he doesn’t walk away.

He stays.

Because deep down, maybe this cursed glass slipper finally fits.

---

🐶 Ruggie Bucchi

The magic fades—and Ruggie blinks fast. His face scrunches up as he sees who it is.

“Wait… huh?! Y/N?!”

He actually chokes on his own spit, then laughs out loud in disbelief.

“Nooo way. Seriously?! You got scammed by fate, huh?” But the laughter doesn’t reach his eyes. Because behind the joke is a flash of awe, a quiet flutter of something he doesn’t think he deserves.

“You… you sure this ain’t some fluke?” he asks quietly, voice softer than usual. And when you smile at him?

He grins, a little crooked.

“…Guess I better stop skipping out on breakfast. Got someone to impress now.”

---

🐺 Jack Howl

Jack feels the magic vanish—and his instincts kick in before his thoughts do. He turns and locks eyes with you.

“…!”

His mouth parts, stunned. “Y/N…?”

He’s completely still. Like someone punched him straight in the chest. His ears twitch, and he looks away almost immediately, the tips of them bright red.

“I—I don’t get it,” he says. “You… you’re always so kind. And strong. Why would someone like you be fated for someone like me?”

Then, more quietly:

“…But I’m not gonna reject it. I’ll work hard to be worthy of it. Of you.”

He gently, almost shyly, holds out his hand again.

---

🐙 Azul Ashengrotto

The enchantment fades. Azul brushes a hand through his hair, ready to paste on his usual pleasant smile—

—and freezes.

His glasses nearly slip off.

“Y/N?” he breathes, startled. His brain short-circuits—surely not. Surely fate wouldn't be so cruel.

Because you’re the one person who helped him, smiled at him, saw through him without demanding a single thing.

His heart sinks.

“This must be a mistake,” he says stiffly, guarding his voice behind a businesslike tone. “You deserve someone… far more noble. Someone better.”

But when you step toward him—soft eyes, genuine smile—his walls crack just a little.

“…I’ll protect this bond,” he murmurs, barely audible. “Even if it’s fragile. Even if it’s foolish.”

---

🍄‍🟫 Jade Leech

The magic lifts. Jade’s ever-present grin flickers into something still. Almost… unreadable.

“Well,” he says smoothly, tilting his head as he stares directly at you. “How utterly unexpected.”

And yet—his heart skips.

You are the one?

The gentle, intuitive person who treated even him with warmth? The one who brought him wildflowers once, just because?

He steps closer with deliberate calm, but there’s a rare glint in his eye—something almost reverent.

“…You do realize what this means, don’t you?” he murmurs. “You’ve wandered into very deep waters, dear Y/N.”

His smile returns—still sharp, but now laced with something tender.

“I hope you’ll let me keep you safe in them.”

---

🦈 Floyd Leech

The second the spell breaks, Floyd whips around in excitement.

“Oi~! Who’s my shrimpy fate—”

Then sees you.

Stares.

Eyes wide. Expression unreadable. For a long second, he’s just… silent.

“…Eh?”

Then it hits.

Like lightning.

A gigantic grin spreads across his face.

“EH?? SHRIMPY?? YOU’RE MINE?? AHAHAHA!! THIS IS SO FUNNY!!”

He grabs you, spins you around. “Now you can’t escape, y’know? Not from fate~!”

But even through the playful tone, there’s a weird softness in his eyes when he looks at you.

“…You really danced with me, huh?” he says, quieter now. “Guess you’re stuck with me forever, Y/N~ …That okay?”

---

☀️ Kalim Al-Asim

The moment the magic lifts, Kalim gasps—

“Y/N?!”

He beams, eyes shining like a child on Christmas morning. It’s not confusion—it’s pure, overflowing joy.

He clasps your hands instantly.

“I can’t believe it was you! That’s amazing! I knew you felt so warm—but you?!”

And then? He laughs. Bright and loud and full of delight.

He whirls you into another impromptu spin. The music may be over, but Kalim is still dancing.

“I’m the luckiest guy in the world! You’re my destined one?! I’m gonna tell Jamil! We’re gonna throw a whole party just for this!”

But when things quiet down, he leans in close and says more gently—

“…I really hope I can make you as happy as you make me everyday.”

---

🐍 Jamil Viper

The spell breaks.

Jamil stares. His entire posture stiffens.

He looks at you like someone just told him the moon is in love with the sea.

“You—”

He stops himself.

His heart is racing.

Not because you’re unsuitable. But because you are everything he never dared imagine he could have.

Someone too kind. Too selfless. Too good.

And you are his?

He steps back slightly, gaze guarded, walls going up by instinct.

“…This doesn’t make sense,” he says. “Fate must be mistaken.”

But then he sees your eyes—that look—and his breath hitches.

You're not afraid. You are not second-guessing. You’re just there. Standing there with open arms.

And something inside Jamil breaks—in the best way. His arms wrapped around you.

“…Don’t disappear,” he says quietly. “If this is real… then stay.”

---

💄 Vil Schoenheit

The moment the spell fades and your face becomes clear, Vil’s breath halts.

His eyes widen just a little—barely perceptible to others, but a storm of surprise in his heart.

“…You.”

He says it softly. Like a revelation.

Not in disdain.

Not in disappointment.

But with a kind of reverence he didn’t know he was capable of.

“You’re… my fated one?”

Vil steps closer. He studies you—truly sees you.

Not just your softness or your sweetness—but your strength too. The quiet kind. The kind that shines brightest under pressure.

He exhales, then offers you a hand once more.

“Then I am lucky. Because to be paired with someone like you—someone so sincere… I must be doing something right.”

And though he hides it well, there’s a faint pink dusting his cheeks.

---

🏹 Rook Hunt

“Mon dieu…”

The moment he sees you, Rook presses a hand to his heart like he’s been shot.

His entire face lights up—thrilled, amazed, deeply enchanted.

“Quelle beauté, quelle grâce—! My dear, to think it was you! My heart knew your soul long before my eyes saw your face!”

He circles around you with practiced grace, admiring every gesture, every shift of expression. Not to make you uncomfortable—but like a painter taking in their muse.

“It must be fate. There’s no other explanation for the perfection of this pairing!”

He kisses your hand dramatically.

“I shall devote myself to uncovering every layer of your mystery, ma colombe. This is but the beginning of our story~”

---

🍎 Epel Felmier

“...Wait. Y/N?”

He freezes.

Stares.

His ears go red instantly.

“Wha—You—you’re the person I was dancing with?!”

It short-circuits his brain.

Sure, it felt nice during the dance. Gentle. Comforting. But You?!

He splutters. He’s embarrassed. He doesn't know where to look. His image!! What would Vil say?!

“…W-Well, it’s not like I’m upset or nothin’! I mean, you’re great! I just—uh—wow, seriously? You?”

Then, sheepishly, he mutters under his breath:

“…I guess I’m kinda glad it was you.”

But he won’t say it again.

Unless you asks. (Then maybe.)

---

💻 Idia Shroud

"..."

The silence lasts too long.

The second your face comes into focus, Idia freezes like a computer crashing mid-update.

No words. Just big, horrified eyes and visible internal screaming.

“Y/N?! A-Are you sure the spell's not glitching? Maybe it didn’t update—Did anyone patch-check this thing—?!”

His hair flares pink and blue in chaotic, panicked pulses.

Because out of everyone, it had to be you.

The person who brings food to his dorm, talks gently to Ortho, and—worse of all—smiles at him like he’s someone worth smiling at.

He flails for an escape route, mumbles excuses, nearly trips over the hem of his coat—

But before he can run off, he glances back.

You’re still there. Looking at him. Softly. Not laughing. Not mocking. Just… warm.

And he short-circuits again.

“...N-No way someone like you got stuck with someone like me…”

Yet maybe—just maybe—a part of him is happy.

(Ortho will never let him live it down.)

Ortho beams like a kid on their birthday.

Then, more seriously, he floats up a little closer.

“...Please be patient with Nii-san. He gets scared easily. But I think you might be the one person brave enough to reach him.”

---

🐉 Malleus Draconia

The spell breaks—and he blinks.

You.

You were the one he’d danced with. The one who laughed so gently at his awkward steps. Who offered their hand without hesitation. Who didn’t shy away from the magic in the air—or in him.

A long silence. His expression unreadable at first.

Then, a slow, blooming smile—one that feels like dusk melting into moonlight.

“So… it was you.”

His voice is deep, low, fond.

He gently holds your hand—carefully, reverently. Not as a prince, but as someone who’s been alone for a very long time, and now finds himself seen.

“I have never dare to dream of having someone that the stars sent for me,” he murmurs, “and yet here you are. A light that chose to walk with a shadow.”

He bows over your hand—no grandeur, no theatrics. Just genuine warmth.

“If you will allow it… I would like to remain at your side for all the dances yet to come.”

---

🦇 Lilia Vanrouge

“Oh ho~?”

The moment the spell lifts and he sees you, Lilia’s eyes sparkle with mischief—and something softer underneath.

“Well, well, well. I must have done something good if the stars paired me with you~.”

He takes your hand with a little flourish, still playful—but there’s a rare sincerity in the way his gloved fingers curl around yours.

“You were quite the enchanting partner. Even with the mystery magic... I felt it was you.”

His tone dips briefly, more honest.

“You remind me of the world I used to dream of. Soft, but strong. Kind, but never naive. Someone who could weather even the harshest of times with their heart still intact.”

He winks. “Looks like I just found a reason to stay here a while longer.”

---

⚡ Sebek Zigvolt

“…!!!”

Sebek freezes. His mouth opens. Closes. Opens again.

“Y-You—!? Y/N?!”

His face turns bright red.

He is absolutely malfunctioning.

“I- I mean— IT IS AN HONOR! A-AN UNEXPECTED ONE! TO BE DESTINED —TO YOU!”

He straightens up immediately, hand over his heart like he’s pledging to protect you in battle for the rest of his life.

(Which, let’s be honest, he might.)

“You danced… excellently! Yes! You upheld the decorum of the event beautifully! The grace, the dignity—! I was impressed! No—moved!”

He pauses. Lowers his voice, just barely.

“…You’re very gentle. Even to someone like me. That’s… I’ll treasure that.”

He bows stiffly, then softly says:

“I’ll guard you as if you were royalty.”

---

🌘 Silver

He blinks slowly.

“…It was you?”

He sounds… a little dazed. He hadn’t expected it. But as he looks at you, something quiet and peaceful settles behind his eyes.

“…That makes sense.”

There’s a slight flush on his cheeks, but his voice is calm—serene, like morning mist.

“You’ve always made me feel at peace. Even when I’m tired, I can hear your voice and feel safe.”

He gently takes your hand and holds it like it’s something fragile. Precious.

“I would like to keep walking beside you… if you’ll let me.”

And for a moment, just one moment, you swear the usually drowsy Silver smiles—a soft, open smile, like sunlight through clouds.

Hope you guys liked them! 🥰

[in-silver-lake]

parking spot

cw: mentions of drinking, but it's almost not there, college au, fuck!boy billie, no smut sorry synopsis: you finally confront the girl that's been stealing your parking spot a/n: this is from the drafts, i don't even know what this is, also that synopsis is horrible but i can't be bothered with writing a better one. also i suck at titles apparently. not proofread, like at all. again, idek wtf this is but enjoy!

MASTERLIST

“i swear every single time i pull up, that goddamn car is already there, parked in my spot outside of my house. i mean, who the fuck does this person think they are?” 

i had been pacing back and forth in my room, ranting to my roommate, alyssa, for at least half an hour, entirely fed up with whoever kept stealing my parking spot. she sat on my bed, unbothered, carefully applying her hot pink nail polish, sporadically splaying her hand out in front of her to check her work. she occasionally offered quiet hms and uh-huhs, her attempt at sounding interested or understanding entirely pathetic, but fortunately for her i was way too preoccupied with my frustration to notice.

“do you know how far away i had to park today? twelve blocks! twelve big, fat blocks, alyssa, and it’s fucking freezing outside, and -”

i cut off, my eyes going wide as i caught a glimpse out my window of a girl walking up to the stupid, shiny black door of the car that had ruined my past two weeks.

“oh my god! oohhh. my. god.”

without a word, i sprinted out of my room, dodging girls on the staircase as i ran through the house. i threw open the front door, and the still, cold air immediately raised goosebumps on my skin, but i was determined to go tell this thief exactly what i thought of her. 

“hey!” i yelled, an edge to my voice as i marched up to her. she turned around at my shout, and my brain short-circuited, because holy shit - she was beautiful. her eyes were a crystal-clear blue, shining in the winter sunlight, her skin smooth, cheeks rosy with the cold and matching her full, pink lips. her long, dark, shiny hair, held back by a black and white patterned bandana, fell effortlessly across her back and curled under her chin. 

since when are parking spot thieves so hot?

her eyebrow quirked up, and i’m reminded that i’ve been staring for a little too long as she asked, “um…can i help you?”

“um - yes, wait, actually no, i -” i scrambled for words, annoyance increasing tenfold as humour danced in her eyes, clearly finding the fact that i was so caught off guard extremely amusing. why the fuck am i stuttering right now? oh my god, pull yourself together.

drawing in a small breath to compose myself, i continued. 

“you - you’ve been a complete jerk, stealing my parking spot for weeks now! you don’t even live here. do you know how incredibly rude and inconsiderate that is? huh? i’ve had to walk for years back to my house in the cold every time i’ve come back home for the past two weeks because you decided to park your ugly, stupid car here! y’know, it’s common decency around here to stick to your own parking spot!” i huffed, speaking fast, trying to make myself sound as authoritative as possible as i crossed my arms in front of my chest.

she, infuriatingly, leant back against her car door, arms crossed loosely against her chest, head tilted slightly to the side, her stance entirely too casual. clearly amused, she smirked as her eyes raked up and down my body, something almost predatory in her gaze. my cheeks flush as i’m reminded that i’ve come out wearing my pajamas - striped, pink flannel pants, a white tank top that made it very clear i wasn’t wearing a bra, and my fluffy frog slippers, no less. 

“your parking spot, hm? i’m so sorry, pretty, i wasn’t aware they had been allocated,” she chuckled, entirely too relaxed for my liking. the pet name, falling so casually from her lips, as if she had said it a million times, as if it was made just for her to say, caught me completely off guard.

“well, i mean, no, they haven’t been, not officially, but-”

“so it isn’t your parking spot?” she interrupted, eyebrow lifting slightly in a challenge.

“I mean, i guess not officially, but everyone in the house has their one spot they park in everytime, otherwise you have to park way too far away-”

“right, so far away that it gets too cold to walk back,” she added, eyes still dancing with humour.

“well - well yes, exactly -”

“and if i don’t live here, how am i supposed to know about this system?”

“well, you could have asked around-”

“do you have a best friend?” she asked abruptly, and the change in conversation threw me off for a moment. 

“i - yes, yes i do -”

“and you try to see them every chance you get?”

“yeah, of course-”

“and so if you went to visit them, would you park in the spot outside their place whenever it’s empty, so you don’t have to walk for twenty minutes in the cold to get to their house?”

“i - i mean yeah, i would -”

“okay, cool. we all good then?” she asked. slightly confused, with very little idea of what just happened, i just nodded dumbly, watching as she unlocked her car and slid into the drivers seat. she glanced over at me with one last look, amusement and something else in her eyes, before she drove away, leaving me standing there. i didn’t even get her name.

over the next few weeks, i kept running into her. in the hallway, in the common area, even outside the house one night as we both waited for our take-away to arrive. she was always infuriatingly unbothered, throwing me a casual hey, or a smirk, or a subtle look up and down, as if every time i saw her i wasn’t flooded with annoyance and a little embarrassment. it was irritating how much space she occupied in my head - and it didn’t help that every time she’d throw me a casual glance or eye me with a hint of mischief, my stomach would flutter and my cheeks redden against my will, because goddamn, she was so fucking hot. and it wasn’t even just her looks - it was the way she carried herself with such an air of confidence and self-assuredness, it was magnetic.

i found out that zoe, one of the girls in my house, was the best friend she had been visiting after i saw her - billie, someone told me her name was - leaving zoe’s room one time. i had also been warned of her reputation as a bit of a fuck-boy, something i tried to remember everytime i ran into her and my stomach would flip.

one night, almost a month after i first met billie, i walked downstairs to the kitchen in the early hours of the morning after a long night out, still slightly tipsy and stomach growling with hunger. inexplicably, billie was there, using the small kitchen to bake what smelled like choc-chip cookies, of all things. i stood there for a moment, stunned and rendered momentarily speechless from the simple shock of seeing her here, in my kitchen, at three am. i definitely didn’t admire the way the warm, low light highlighted the delicate curve of her neck, eyes definitely not trailing over her body, clad in pajamas that were uncharacteristically revealing, and my mouth absolutely did not going dry at the sight of her very low-cut singlet-

i shook my head, trying to clear my thoughts. i watched as she turned around, tray in hand, and spotted me in the door way. her movements only hesitated for a moment, something akin to curiosity, or maybe want, briefly flickering in her eyes before she placed the tray on the bench beside her. without looking up, she asked, “y’want one?”

fighting a blush - whether it was caused by the residual alcohol in my bloodstream, or being in billie’s presence, i wasn’t sure which (yes i was) - i walked right up to her, appearing confident, sure, as i swayed my hips just a little, and brushed her shoulder with mine as i reached out to pick up a cookie. i pushed myself up to sit on the bench, legs ever so slightly parting, my little black dress i had yet to take off riding up my thighs. she stood in front of me as i took a measured bite out of the sweet, chewy treat. i pretended to inspect it as i purposefully, slowly, licked my lips, as if to catch any crumbs.

after i decided i had lingered in the moment long enough, i said,“they’re alright,” shrugging my shoulders in mock indifference. they honestly tasted amazing. i looked up to see billie’s stare was transfixed on my shiny lips, eyes tracing every moment of my tongue. in the low light, i could’ve sworn i saw her pupils dilate.

“mhm,” she hummed, sounding completely distracted as she dragged her eyes, seemingly reluctantly, back to mine. 

she took a step closer to stand in between my legs, the soft brush of her hand on my knee making goosebumps erupt on my skin, but i never flinched, never showed any sign this was affecting me. her hand smoothed upwards, along the outside of my thigh, her touch light but carrying so much weight, the heat of her hands a delicious contrast to the cool metal of her rings. her eyes were lidded, still trained on my glistening lips, as she slowly leaned in. i leant forward to meet her, stopping a breath away, close enough to see the anticipation on her face. for a moment, we were both still.

then, with a knowing twinkle in my eyes, i said, “i’m going to go to bed now,” close enough that she would’ve felt my breath against her lips. 

i slid down from the bench, her warm touch on my thigh lingering for as long as possible before her hand slipped away. her eyebrows knitted in confusion and her hand twitched by her side, as if holding back from reaching out to me again. her mouth hung open slightly, a hint of embarrassment on her face, the tables completely turned.

“goodnight,” i said simply, my voice low, dripping like honey, before i walked out of the room, leaving her with nothing, a satisfied smirk on my face.

taglist: @drunkinyourbenz ; @ilovealiceosemann

msg or leave an ask if you want to be added!

[yvesssssssss]

Since you did heisuke and shin dealing with pregnant reader's morning sicknesses, may we have nagumo, gaku and Natsuki dealing with reader's morning sicknesses? 🥹

Please?

Morning sicknesses with them

I hope you enjoy!!💞

࣪ ִֶָ☾.Nagumo Yoichi

Nagumo squats beside you as you cling to the toilet, your forehead pressed against the cool ceramic.

“Morning sickness again, huh?” he murmurs sympathetically. Then, with an exaggeratedly serious face, he adds, “Are you sure it’s not just my overwhelming charm making you nauseous?”

You groan in reply, and he laughs, brushing your hair back gently and rubbing your back.

Despite the jokes, he’s alarmingly attentive—stocking your favorite snacks (the few you can stomach), memorizing scent triggers like a ninja, and even learning pressure points to ease nausea.

He sits cross-legged on the floor, holding up a glass of water like it’s a peace offering. “You throw up, I hydrate you. Romantic, right?”

When you finally feel okay enough to sit up, he kisses your temple, whispering, “We’re gonna make it through this. And hey—if you throw up on me, I won’t even dodge.”

(He will. But he means well.)

࣪ ִֶָ☾.Gaku

“Uhh… you good?” Gaku peers into the bathroom, one hand awkwardly resting on the doorframe.

You’re hunched over, retching, and he panics—internally. Externally, he stiffens like a cat seeing a cucumber.

After a beat, he rushes in, kneeling beside you. “Should I fight the toilet? Is it attacking you?”

You can barely laugh, but that tiny snort you make is enough to melt his circuits.

He hands you a towel with both hands like he’s defusing a bomb. “I Googled what to do, okay? I got ginger tea. And...uh...some crackers. And peppermint. And—”

“Gaku,” you rasp, “I can’t eat anything right now.”

“…Oh. Right. Then I’ll just sit here and look cool while you puke.”

He ends up rubbing your back, surprisingly gentle, quietly muttering threats at your stomach like, “Tch. Work properly. You’re making her suffer.”

࣪ ִֶָ☾.Natsuki Seba

Natsuki wakes up to the sound of retching and immediately throws his blanket off, slipping into house slippers with surgical speed.

He kneels beside you, one hand rubbing soothing circles on your back.

“You’re okay,” he murmurs, voice soft and steady. “I prepped the lemon water last night, remember? I’ll grab it. And I restocked the peppermint gum.”

You lean back against him, exhausted.

“...You really did all that?”

“I also called my mom. She said morning sickness usually fades by week fourteen,” he says, brushing sweat from your brow with a damp cloth. “We’re almost there.”

He never complains, never flinches. He logs your triggers like a scientific journal—‘Note: smell of soy sauce = immediate vomit.’ He reorganizes the fridge, the pantry, even switches shampoos.

And when you start crying because you're just so tired, he wraps you in a blanket and whispers, “You're not doing this alone. I’m with you every step.”

[dragonbadgerbooks]

Little Red Riding Hood makes for a popular fairy tale cover <3

[stargirlygirl]

no, you can't buy my ranch

rancher!sylus x spoiled!city girl!reader

⭑.ᐟ part five: make up dinner

summary: you cook sylus dinner to make up for yelling at him earlier in the week

contains: fluff, stalker!sylus (you're getting sus), swearing, 4.1k words (you're also getting fed tonight)

It’s finally Friday. The past three days have dragged on, every moment five times longer than it should be.

You’re ecstatic for tonight!

Okay, okay, it’s an apology dinner, but for some reason, you want it to be much more than that. You can’t help thinking of the silver-haired rancher whenever you get the chance. The memory of him alone makes your cheeks flush and brings a giddy smile to your lips. You’re positive, you look like a mad woman with the number of times you’ve giggled to yourself mid-work task. But you don’t care.

Even if this is only an apology meal, you’re going to give it your all just as Sylus gave it his all when showing you around town.

In preparation, you did some house cleaning and even rummaged an old cloth out of a box to drape it on your wooden dining table. You’ve been scouring the internet for worthy recipes to make, eventually settling on a five-star recipe you saw on TikTok called Marry Me Pasta. There’s no way better to a man’s heart than carbs, right?

You wake up early and book it to the grocery store to get all of the ingredients, eternally grateful that it’s a different staff member on the till today. Once you get home, you unpack the bags and put everything away before working on the finishing touches for tonight.

You’re practically jumping up and down like an excited puppy when wiping the sink down. Your music blasts, matching your energy and even amplifying it with the bass reverberating through the floorboards. You sing along, your voice breathy as you dance and clean in tandem.

By the time you’re all finished, it’s time to get ready. Taking a nice hot shower, you wash the day’s grime off you, leaving behind pure elation. After moisturising, you sit down at your vanity and get to work on your makeup. It’s calming, the routine of blending out your base product before moving onto brows and blush. Once you’re all glammed up (not too much but just enough), you slide on your dress for tonight. It’s the prettiest one you own, the sweetheart neckline is charming, and the floral print complements your features.

Next, you fix your hair, spritz on your yummiest perfume, and add some jewellery to complete the look.

Shoes? One thing Sylus isn’t getting tonight is to see you in a pair of heels. He already saw you in a pair the first time you went to his ranch house, and that was enough for the next few years. Instead, he gets to see your bunny slippers and “Stand back while Daddy’s cooking” apron. A gift from your best friend btw when you told her you were moving out to the middle of fuck nowhere.

You then start on dinner. The recipe surprisingly doesn’t take that long to make. Boil the pasta, make the sauce and cook the chicken. For a moment, you wonder if this recipe will really get Sylus to propose to you. Obviously, it’s not supposed to have that kind of effect. It’s just meant to be a good enough meal for a nice dinner. But what if your cooking is too good? Or worse, what if your cooking isn’t good at all?

Sending Sylus a quick text to come over, you blow on a piece of creamy chicken and take a bite. Mhmm! Oh, he’s gonna wanna marry you once he gets a taste of this.

Setting out the plates and dishing out pasta, there’s a firm rap on the front door. Gazing up, you can’t conceal the goofy smile that spreads on your lips. You set down tonight’s meal on the table before dashing over to the door. Opening it with both hands, a very handsome-looking Sylus is revealed. He’s exchanged his usual jeans and button-up for trousers and a blazer. You beam up at him, your brain short-circuiting as his crimson eyes meet yours.

After a beat, he chuckles, “Something on my face, kitten?” You chortle, the gleeful sound making his brow raise.

“Oh?” With one hand, he pulls out his phone and flips on the camera to check himself. But all that stares back at him is perfection.

“You look great, Sy. Why don’t you come in?” You grin. Lowering his phone, he nods slightly. When he slips inside, you notice the bottle of wine in his hand.

Leading him to the kitchen, you say curiously, “Oooo, I didn’t know you drank wine.”

He chuckles richly while setting it down on the dining table, “There are many things you don’t know about me, sweetie.”

Untying your apron and putting it away, you counter, “Then let’s change that, yeah?” Sylus stands there, this big man in your kitchen, gazing around like a young child at an aquarium, full of wonder and awe at the changes you’ve made.

Coming over to the dining table, you sit in the chair opposite him. But he just stands there, eyes roving over the food and cutlery as if he’s never been cooked a meal before.

“Sit,” you whine, kicking off your slippers and crossing your legs to get all comfy (idk maybe this is just me). His signature smirk returns as he complies.

Shuffling in, he teases, “Nice bunny slippers, dear.”

“Shush,” you pout playfully, already sticking your fork into your pasta.

“Don’t you want to taste the wine I brought?” Sylus asks in his usual condescending tone, but this time, it felt weighty. Almost like he’s a little hurt you didn’t jump at the opportunity.

”Oh,” you murmur, dumbfounded. Your fork clanks against the plate, and chair legs scrape the wooden flooring as you fumble to find your wine glasses. You throw open cabinet doors, mumbling to yourself about where those pesky glasses could be.

Until you ask the fundamental question: Do you even own wine glasses? Surely, right? But even if you do, you clearly haven’t unpacked them yet. How could this have happened? You’ve been preparing for the past few days for tonight, and you forgot the wine glasses?

Sylus’s deep voice interrupts your mental spiral, “Need some help, sweetie?”

“No, no!” You squeak, placing two mugs on the countertop. One of which is your favourite, and the other of which is a grandpa classic: I don’t need Google, my wife knows everything. Fluttering back to the dining table, you set the mugs down.

“This okay?” You ask. Sylus turns the grandpa mug around by the rim. Upon reading the quote, he guffaws heartily, coughing into his palm to stifle it under the pointed look you give him.

“This is all I have right now, okay?!” Grinning widely, he pops open the bottle of red and pours a small amount into both mugs.

You chirp, “Thanks!” Grabbing yours by the handle, you return to your seat and take a sip. The wine bubbles on your tongue, sour and bitter like arsenic. You can’t stop yourself from cringing in displeasure, your expression only encouraging Sylus’s teasing.

“You don’t like it?” He questions as you set your mug down. You shake your head, remnants of the poison burning your taste buds. He chuckles softly before sipping his wine.

“Mhmm, you have no taste, kitten,” he sighs.

“Not after drinking that, I don’t,” you retort, eliciting a hearty laugh from the rancher opposite.

He grins, “A good pinot noir never killed anyone, dear.” Rolling your eyes, you stab a pasta spiral with more force than necessary. Popping the delicious carb in your mouth, the creamy flavour explodes across your taste buds. It washes away the acridity of the wine, leaving behind a pupil-dilating warmth. You moan in delight, catching a raised brow from Sylus.

“What? It’s good,” you defend yourself while covering your mouth. His mug thunks on the table. Swallowing down the pasta, you gesture to his untouched plate with your fork.

“Aren’t you gonna try some?” You ask, a little pouty.

The rancher grins, “’Course I am, sweetie.” You eye him as he scoops up some pasta on his fork. Bringing it closer to his mouth, he glances up and catches your gaze.

Sylus murmurs cockily, “Something you aren’t telling me, kitten?”

You groan, “Nooooo. Just try some!” You’re on the edge of your seat as those plump lips wrap around the sauce-coated fork. Your heartbeat spikes, anxiety rising as he chews lazily. What the man trying to buy your property thinks of the dinner you made shouldn’t be so important to you. But it is.

His fork clinks on the plate, scraping up another bite as he gulps down his first one.

“So? What do you think?” You ask excitedly.

Your date nods in approval, “It’s nice, sweetie.”

“Just nice?” You prompt, your food forgotten momentarily. He chuckles, his softened eyes flicking up to meet yours.

“Very nice.” You roll your eyes and pick your fork up, continuing to eat your yummy meal in satiated silence. It’s almost too quiet; the metallic chinking of cutlery and thudding of mugs are the only sounds ringing throughout the open kitchen.

Perking up, you say, “How about we put some music on?”

Gulping, the rancher nods, “What kind of music, sweetie?” Already on your feet, you grab your phone and fetch your speaker from the lounge room.

All the while, you call out, “Just some like smooth jazz or something, you know! Something cosy!” Placing it down on the kitchen bench, your speaker makes a little connectivity sound while you open YouTube and search for one of those three-hour jazz videos.

“How about Requiem K. 626, kitten?” Sylus suggests.

You pout, glancing up from your phone to look at him, “Requiem’s so dramatic, though. Very…very powerful. What about Joe Hisashi?” Pressing play on A Symphonic Celebration, you’re met with the familiar piano of Howl’s Moving Castle. Not Sylus’s go-to, but he nods all the same as you take up your seat across from him once more.

He grins, “Should have told me we needed a backing track, darling. I would have brought my record player.”

“You have one or those?” You ask, genuinely shocked.

“Mhmm,” he hums, chewing on another mouthful of pasta.

You keep the conversation going with, “What records do you have? You’ll have to show me sometime.” He nods, scooping up the last bites of his pasta while you’ve barely eaten half.

“I thought all of you country folk would be into Luke Combs or something,” you shrug. Sylus almost spits out his wine.

Coughing into his palm, he smirks, “Luke Combs? Oh, sweetie.”

“What?!” You huff. “Luke Combs is great. In fact, we should listen to his songs right now.” Reaching for your phone, you put on The Kind of Love We Make. The electric guitar strings make you giggle as the rancher opposite eyes you haughtily.

He drawls, “What a fitting song choice, kitten.”

“So you do know his songs!” You exclaim, adjusting the volume.

Sylus sighs, “Of course, I do. But I prefer classical.” You nod, soaking up this new information like a sponge. But he doesn’t offer up anything else before finishing up his dinner. Standing up, he walks over to the sink with his plate and rinses it off.

Coming back over, he gestures to your full cheeks and teases, “Don’t hurry up for my sake, sweetie.” Hovering a hand over your mouth, you’re brutally aware of how much creamy chicken you just stuffed between your lips. You nod, eyes following his dump truck figure before he sits back down.

Brushing the tablecloth like there’s somehow crumbs on it, Sylus asks confidently, “Tell me, dear, what else do you assume about me?” What a good question. You’re glad you’re still gulping down your food, so you have a moment to think about your answer.

What do you assume about, Sylus? Well, for one, he’s absolutely gorgeous, so he’s definitely been around the block if you know what I mean😏. But his accent is a little off, so you’re certain he’s not from these parts. With his business-savvy attitude and incessant teasing, maybe he’s from the city, too.

Eventually swallowing, you answer thoughtfully, “I assume you moved here a few years ago, maybe from the city, like me or something.” You keep your first assumption to yourself. That’s something you could find out from a friend (if you make any). He shakes his head slowly, his signature smirk curling on his lips.

“You’re right, sweetie. I’m not from here. But I didn’t come from the city, and I didn’t move in a few years ago.”

“Then—”

“Hush, didn’t daddy teach you that patience was a virtue?” He says mockingly. You roll your eyes in response and shove another bite of pasta in your mouth, willing the heat rising to your cheeks to go down.

After a few seconds, he continues on with, “I moved here just before your father bought this property twelve years ago.”

“Why’d you move here?” You ask between bites.

“Curious little thing, aren’t you, kitten?” He smirks.

You grumble, “Yes, yes. So are you going to answer my question or?” Sylus merely chuckles, seemingly amused by your interest in him.

“Careful now,” he warns condescendingly. “Don’t want you to get hurt now, do we, kitten?”

“Sy!” You groan.

He grins cockily, “Alright,” while raising his hands to the side in momentary surrender. “I moved here because I saw a great business opportunity.”

“In ranching?” You clarify, a brow raised shrewdly.

He corrects you, “In owning ranches, sweetie.”

“Same difference,” you shrug dismissively. Grabbing a napkin, you wipe your mouth and chuck it on your now-empty plate. Sylus lifts your plate before you can, and is already taking it over to the sink before you can protest.

“They’re quite different,” he remarks. The rushing water from the tap occupies the quiet between you. You feel interrogated under the warm glow of the lights and candles, their eyes staring at you, picking you apart as Sylus searches for the dish-washing liquid.

Fluttering over to his side, you wrap your hands around his arm and reassure him, “Don’t worry about it. I’ll take care of it later.”

“Sweetie—”

“Trust me! And if you still really wanna wash them, you can do it later, okay? There’s something I wanna show you,” you insist, tugging on his meaty arm. But the rancher doesn’t even budge at your attempts to drag him along.

He just gives you that seductive, arrogant look while drawling, “Have a surprise for me, darling?” You nod energetically, eager to get him away from the kitchen and outside.

Sighing, he lets you win, reminding you to turn off your speaker, and pull on some proper shoes and a jacket before heading out. The night air is crisp, yet reminiscent of today’s heat. The breeze is lukewarm, ruffling your cardigan and hair as you hold Sylus’s hand.

You lead him through the long blades of grass (since your failed attempt at mowing, you’ve given up for now), fingers intertwined. His hand is so much bigger than yours, it freaks you out (in more ways than one🫦).

“Where are you taking me?” He smirks, somehow still egotistical in this situation.

Gazing up at him, you reply, “Guess.” The rancher’s smile grows. With his free hand, he taps his chin with his finger quizzically.

“Well, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were leading me to the centre of your land so that no one could hear my screams,” he concludes.

You exclaim, “Sy! What the fuck?!”

“But,” he interjects. “I do know better. Using that knowledge, I’d say…” You observe as he glances around and up at the sky. Trees obscure the bright moon overhead.

He grins, “You’re taking me to see the moon.” Your jaw drops to the floor, eyes wide as you stare back at the man behind you. You’ve stopped walking forward, your feet firmly rooted to the ground like they’ve been overrun with vines.

“There’s… there’s no way you knew that,” you murmur, shocked. Sylus shrugs, all nonchalant on the outside, while mentally, sirens blare as the fruits of his stalking are coming to light.

“Just a guess, sweetie.” You close your mouth. And then open it again to say something, but no words fall out. They’re caught on the lump in your throat.

The rancher pushes your chin up, effectively shutting your mouth for you, with that damn smirk plastered across his handsome face. You shake your head, forcing out the beginnings of ridiculous thoughts like: “How does he know me so well?”

Pulling on your connected hands, Sylus assumes charge now and starts walking. He drags you along, veering from your original course to a section of your property you haven’t had time to explore. He navigates these grassy plains with ease, like he’s been doing this for years.

“You… you’re really good at reading people,” you mumble while looking down at your feet. Ah, so that’s what you’re thinking. The tension in Sylus’s shoulders dissolves.

“You’re very expressive, kitten,” he counters, humbling himself for the first time since you’ve met. But you miss it in your confused daze, simply humming and getting carried away by your onslaught of thoughts.

The night animals’ chattering only fuels the nerves rippling throughout your body. Suddenly, the air is hot and suffocating, or maybe that’s just your flushed face and thumping heart. Unaware, you stumble over a twig. Sylus catches you without thinking. His arm is tight around your waist as he steadies you.

“You alright?” He asks, his brow creased and eyes roving over your body, searching for any injuries. You nod too quickly while biting your lip.

You reassure him, “’M fine. It’s just dark. I didn’t see, um, the, um, branch.” He nods slowly, his stiff body and worry swirling in his blood-red eyes betraying his concern for you. But why is he concerned? Perhaps your pounding heart can tell you.

“Let’s keep going, yeah?” You manage out. Sylus squeezes you tenderly before easing off. Lacing his hand with yours once more, he leads you through the grass to a place you didn’t even know existed on your land.

Pale moonlight glints off dark water, peaceful in the evening. Tall trees surround a lake, casting serene shadows over you both. On the water’s surface, the radiant celestial body above in the twinkling sky is reflected.

Stars. Your favourite part of moving to the countryside had to be the stars. But tonight, they seem even brighter. They wink at you from the inky canvas overhead, clued in on something hidden.

“Don’t you want to sit, sweetie?” Sylus’s low rumble stuns you. He’s been so quiet, you almost forgot he was there (if not for his warm hand enveloping yours). You nod feebly, admiring your surroundings as he guides you to the water’s edge.

Water. Why was it that you two always retreated to water? Was it because of the pensive nature of water? How reflective it is? When staring at yourself in the cerulean depths, there’s nothing you can conceal. In the ripples, your soul is laid bare. Is this how Orpheus felt gazing upon himself until he faded away? Not only enraptured by his beauty, but perhaps by what lurked beneath.

“You’re awfully quiet, kitten,” Sylus teases, his breath fanning your ear. Those large hands squeeze your shoulders, a reassuring gesture. However, you’re left feeling anything but reassured.

“Sy,” you whisper, eyes trained on the moon mirrored by the still water. He hums, the sound gravelly. His hands slide down, caressing your upper arms lovingly. Turning slightly, you gaze up at him. The light flickers in your eyes and brings out a glow from your complexion, ethereal.

You shake your head, murmuring, “I didn’t even know this place existed.” The rancher’s arm slithers around you and draws you in, holding you against his broad chest. Your hands press against the muscle there, his heat from beneath his button-up making your palms sweaty. Or was it your skyrocketing anxiety that was responsible for the sweating?

“How did you find it?” You ask quietly. Sylus’s eyes widen, and his lips part for a split second, revealing the tangle of secrets he’s getting caught in as they start to unravel.

He clears his throat and brushes off your question with, “Pure chance.” Glimpsing down, you smile in disbelief.

“Chance?” You echo. Meeting his eyes again, you continue, “I don’t think you leave anything to chance.”

“Want to bet?” He proposes. You shake your head, fists bunching up his expensive shirt.

Your shoulders fall as you mumble, “Why should I? You’ll always win.” As soon as the words tumble from your lips, you wish you could grab them and stuff them back in like a ravenous child does candy. Why did you say that?!

“I mean—”

“Contemplative, are we, sweetie?” He cuts you off, his free hand grasping your wrist and tugging one of your fists off the slightly damp fabric of his shirt. You nod, hoping that he brushes off your somewhat accusatory comment. And he does, not wanting to elaborate on how correct you are. Not that you’ll ever know. Definitely. Hopefully.

What Sylus says next takes you by surprise.

“Do you want to dance?” You stare at him, blinking while his questions go in one ear and make a world trip around your brain.

“What?” You ask, confused.

The rancher repeats himself, “Do you want to dance, darling?”

You sputter, “But-but we don’t have any music.” He chuckles while shaking his head, the sound resonating in his chest and travelling through your fingertips.

Putting a small gap between you, Sylus slips his fingers up your palm and grasps your hand, while his other hand rests on your waist. You shift your free hand to his shoulder, eyes watching him like prey does when they sense a predator. Wearing his signature smirk, the rancher tenderly sways you from side to side, feet following a loose pattern.

What surprises you the most— besides how well Sylus can dance— is when he begins humming. It’s an endearing attempt at staying on key, which you giggle at.

“What’s so funny, kitten?” He asks, breaking his hum before resuming it while waiting for your answer.

You beam up at him, “You are.”

“Me?” He clarifies, tilting his head sideways slightly. You nod, erupting into a fit of laughter. His movements slow, but you shake your head.

“No, don’t stop. I’m sorry,” you murmur, unable to fully banish your grin. But Sylus cherishes it. It makes him feel good, knowing that he can make you laugh (or at least, make you laugh at him) when you’ve been so angry and upset with him from the start. Another rare moment of your joy, he’s committing it to memory and locking it in the vault at the corner of his mind.

You sigh, “This is really nice, Sy. Thanks for showing me this place, even if you won’t tell me how you found it.”

He nods, “My pleasure, kitten.” Leaning forward, you rest your cheek on his pecs, unprompted. His heart rate spikes, before stabilising once more. Letting go of your hand, he embraces you with both arms, still rocking gently.

Wistfully, you ask, “Have I atoned for my misbehaviour?” The rancher rests his chin on the crown of your head, thinking for a minute or so. The evening buzz fills the comfortable silence between you.

Eventually, Sylus breaks it with, “Almost.”

“Almost?” You pout, raising your head and tipping it back to look up at him. Silvery lashes frame garnet eyes as he gazes at you from a hair’s breadth away. Your noses brush, a warmth sparking between your bodies.

Inching closer, Sylus whispers, “I think a kiss is in order, don’t you?”

“Mhmm,” you hum thoughtfully, hands snaking up to the back of his neck and pulling him down. His lips are as soft as you thought they’d be. And soothing, too. You practically melt into him as your head tilts, fingers brushing over his sharp cheekbones.

You moan softly into Sylus’s mouth as his grip on you tightens. But it’s a grounding kind of tight. He holds you like he doesn’t ever want this moment to end. And neither do you. Teeth nibble and tongues slide, slipping into each other’s mouths as you taste the wine lingering on his taste buds. But it’s sweet and light. Maybe that’s how it should be.

Your mind is blank as your knees buckle, your body moulding against your date’s. He keeps you upright effortlessly, his hands shifting down to your lower back and grabbing your hips. It’s possessive, almost, but you like it.

Pulling back, both of your chests heave as you gaze at each other with so much emotion in your eyes. In his, you make out reverence and excitement, while in yours, all he’s probably seeing is, “Oh fuck! I just kissed ten!” But no words are exchanged as he leans back down and pulls you into another kiss, and then another and another. Until you’re positively breathless and internally squealing with delight.

story masterlist

full masterlist

star girl's final words: i went through requiem, symphonic celebration, kind of love we make, flatliner, smooth jazz, and lots of different songs while writing this one. hope you like it! lowk, i remember it being better when i wrote it vs after editing, but chow it is what it is.

taglist - @stxrrielle, @peachystea, @harbingers-lullaby, @grlyeetswrld, @multisstuff, @heartyluv, @cuntphoric-main, @sealoftime, @beesin03, @tragicvictoriantears, @bananasquash

[captain-huggy-bear]

"Is that my shirt?"...with Kess

1000 Followers Celly Finished - Officially finished all of the celly requests that fit the rules/brief! It's only taken me months but thank you for all the love from it <3 Consider this an apology for the sad fic early. Requests are currently closed while I work through current ones <3 Writing Masterlist

It's your first night sleeping over Michael's, strange in some ways, but mostly in strange in the fact that it feels so natural. When you wake up in his bed, Michael nowhere to be seen but the sound of a frying pan and humming from outside the door, it doesn't feel strange.

It doesn't feel strange to swing your legs out of his bed, or make it for him, tucking the sheets back where they belong and throwing the pillows back into place. It doesn't feel strange to grab Michael's discarded shirt from the night before and throw it over your head, the hem hitting your mid thigh from how big he has to get his shirts (always a larger size due to his height). It doesn't feel strange to shove your feet in his slippers, so large you have to slide your feet because if you lift them they'll fall out and it doesn't feel weird to leave his bedroom like that to find him.

He's in the kitchen, shirtless (which in hindsight seems like a bit of a safety hazard), sweatpants slung low on his hips, tattoo on full display, chain glinting in the early morning light. Michael's stood at the stove, frying pan in front of him, a bowl of pancake batter next to him, flour all over the place where he clearly messily put the batch together.

There's already a pancake on the pan when he twists towards you at the sound of your feet, his slippers, sliding across the wood floor. Spatula in hand he freezes, pancake forgotten on the hob at the sight of you there because fuck...you look good, like out of his league good, like beyond him good.

It takes him a few moments just to process that he's seeing your bare legs in the daylight, that those are his slippers (way too big) on your feet, and most importantly that the only thing covering you right now is his shirt from the night before.

"Is that my shirt?" He's pretty his brain has short circuited as he turns fully towards you, pan forgotten, spatula held aloft.

You tug at it, until it pulls away from your body, the hem rising in a way that has him salivating and not for pancakes. " You mean this old thing?" It's coy, it's ridiculous, it's so fucking hot to him the way you smirk at him underneath your lashes and he's a goner. He's just some goofy loser and you're that chick and he's not entirely sure he's going to recover.

His inability to think, to function, to even respond, mouth feeling like cottonwool, is interrupted by the loud ring of the fire alarm as the pancake on the stove starts to smoke into a blackened husk having been left unattended for too long.

"Shit!" He's frantic waving the spatula around in an attempt to clear the smoke as he pulls the pan off the hob. You think a little clearer, opening the back door to let the smoke dissipate and disperse.

"Sorry..." He grins sheepish, shoulders up to his ears, ruffling his curls once the alarm stops ringing. "I...just wanted to make you breakfast..."

"I'm that distracting, huh?" You're still coy, his bout of goofiness, his mess up, doing nothing to turn you off of him. You close the space between the two of you, hands trailing up his chest, fingers curling into the gold chain he wears.

He practically gulps, swallowing harshly, Adam's apple bobbing. "Uh huh...you're like so out of my league it's actual insane right now, baby."

"You're literally a NHL Star." You roll your eyes at him with a grin as his hands fall to your hips, fingers flexing like he can't help himself.

"Yeah, but you're you."

It has you flushing, face heating, eyes dropping to this chest because he's sweet. Sweeter than any guy you've dated in the past...it's nice. To feel appreciated like you're something special and not just an ordinary person.

"Well, I think you're pretty neat."

"Neat?" Michael laughs at you, tension broken and it's like he remembers that you're just a person too. That no matter how attractive he thinks you are, he first asked you out because you seemed fun and goofy and not because of your legs or the way your hair looks in the morning.

"Shut up!"

[minhohaze]

“Too Sweet, Too Dangerous”

Pairing: Rumi x Reader

Warnings: domestic slice-of-life with a hint of chaos

Rumi was no fool.

She knew danger when she saw it. She could sniff it out a mile away — especially demons in disguise. But what she hadn’t accounted for was you.

You, in your comically large cable-knit sweater layered over a too-long polo shirt, sleeves hiding your hands, collar slightly askew in that “oops” kind of way. You, with your wide, glassy eyes and a voice soft enough to make nuns cry. You, who stood two inches shorter than her and somehow looked like you belonged in a library, not in the same universe as her blood-stained combat boots.

And yet.

You were a menace.

“I didn’t do anything,” you said sweetly, batting your lashes.

“You poured chili oil into Mira’s protein shake.”

“She said it tasted bland.”

“She cried, babe.”

You simply blinked. “Aww, poor Mira…”

Rumi squinted at you, arms crossed, still in her hunter gear, soaked in sweat from training. Her suspicious glare only deepened as you waddled toward her in your baggy jeans that nearly swallowed your legs whole, and your slippers that scuffed the floor like a cartoon character. You tilted your head and tugged on her sleeve with your covered hand.

“You’re so strong, Rumi,” you cooed, voice sticky-sweet. “You could protect me from anything…”

Rumi's brain short-circuited. Again.

“Don’t think I don’t see what you’re doing.”

“I’m being sweet?”

“You’re being manipulative.”

“I don’t even know what that word means,” you whispered with a smile that was definitely not as innocent as it looked.

She groaned and dropped her head on your shoulder.

“I should arrest you. You’re the real demon.”

You hummed, patting her hair. “Then come get me, officer.”

She froze. Pulled back. Looked you dead in the eye.

“…You’re impossible.”

You kissed her cheek quickly before bouncing back and pointing at the kitchen.

“By the way, Mira’s protein shake might still be… spicy. Don’t touch it.”

“You didn’t…”

You giggled. “She dared me to prank someone. Technically, I fulfilled her request.”

“You are a hazard.”

You held your hands up — those floppy sweater sleeves covering your fingers like a plush toy’s paws.

“And yet, you still kiss me goodnight.”

Rumi grumbled under her breath, trying to hide the pink creeping into her cheeks. She stomped off, muttering something about “cursed angels” and “tiny sweater gremlins.” You just followed her, grinning the whole way, knowing she’d never be able to stay mad at you for long.

You were her chaos in soft fabric. Her criminal in disguise.

And she'd fall for you again tomorrow, same as she did today.

Bonus Scene:

Later that night, Rumi finds a note tucked under her pillow.

> "You're lucky you're hot. Love, your tiny sweater gremlin <3"

She laughs. She can’t help it.

Even if the bathroom is still full of glitter and Mira hasn’t stopped coughing from the chili incident.

You're dangerous. But you’re hers.

And that’s a battle she’s willing to lose.

[prettylilyanime]

Blooming Hearts ♡ Chapter 04

˚✿˖ Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x fem reader

˚✿˖ Synopsis: All your life, you’ve had it all—wealth, beauty, and a quirk good enough to secure your spot at UA. But after three years, you still feel more like an outsider than a future hero. Social life? Barely existent. Friends? Who needs them? You’re ready to coast through your final year solo… until fate lands you squarely in the lap of a certain hot-headed blonde—literally.

˚✿˖ tags/warnings: 18+, smut in the later chapters, reader is spoiled, shy reader, they're all third years at UA, Fluff, strangers? to lovers trope, not really strangers, miscommunication, drama, y/n just wants to make friends, reader is canonically pretty, reader is a hero in training, whipped bakugou, she falls first but he falls harder

˚✿˖ Authors note: In which y/n finally falls on Katsuki's lap

˚✿˖ Masterlist ♡ Previous ♡ Next

⋆˚✿˖°⋆˚✿˖°⋆˚✿˖°⋆˚✿˖°⋆˚✿˖°⋆˚✿˖°⋆˚✿˖°⋆˚✿˖°⋆˚✿˖°⋆˚✿˖

Somehow, you managed to sleep through the night.

After a relaxing bubble bath and a pint-sized cup of rocky road ice cream to make yourself feel better, you finally lulled yourself into a deep rest. That leads you to now: shrugging on your silky pink robe and sliding into your fluffy house slippers, ready to head downstairs and grab the boxes lined up at the door.

Yesterday’s manic spending spree? Worth it—because today, it’s like Christmas morning!

Since the dorms are practically empty, you feel comfortable enough to skip your usual habit of dressing up, strolling around in your teeny-tiny pajamas without a care. Your lacy pink shorts barely peek out from beneath the hem of your robe, and the matching top isn’t doing much better.

Normally, you’d never be caught dead like this. You’d have at least thrown on some proper pants in case someone saw you, but right now? Freedom!

Which you deserve, damn all of them!

Even your oversized reading glasses sit firmly on your nose—something you would never wear around your peers. They’re clunky, with thick crystal-clear lenses that magnify your eyes far beyond their actual size, framed by equally thick rims.

Honestly, the look is borderline comical, But hey! You’re too terrified of lasik surgery to seriously consider fixing the issue. You never see eye doctors getting it done, so… why should you trust it?

Sure, the glasses are practical—wearing contacts every day dries out your eyes like crazy—but the thought of walking into class looking like a bug is worse than any discomfort you may face.

Today, though, there’s no one around to judge, so you let yourself relax.

Humming softly to yourself, you make your way to the front door, relishing in the peaceful silence of the dorms. No awkward small talk, no side glances as you try to avoid eye contact—just you and your thoughts.

Your eyes light up as soon as you spot the pile of brightly colored boxes stacked neatly by the door. Designer logos flash proudly across the packaging, and some of the stacks are even taller than you.

Honestly, it’s a bit ridiculous, but who cares? Nobody’s here, so it’s not an inconvenience for anyone but you. Or so you thought.

Confidently, you bend down to pick up one of the taller stacks. You’ve got this. Balancing the pile against your chest, you steady yourself, sliding your glasses back up your nose.

And then—

“The hell is all this?”

A voice comes from behind, sharp and familiar, startling you so badly that you let out a scream like you’re being attacked. The stack wobbles dangerously, and before you can regain balance, you feel yourself slipping backward—your bunny-shaped slippers betraying you at the worst possible moment.

Boxes tumble down with you, but before you hit the floor, two strong hands grab your waist, steadying you—barely. The weight of the falling boxes sends both of you crashing down anyway.

“How are you so fucking jumpy?” Bakugou’s irritated voice rumbles from beneath you, disbelief coloring his tone.

You barely register his words, your brain short-circuiting from both shock and utter embarrassment. “YOU COULDN’T WARN ME, YOU FREAK?!”

“OI, WHO ARE YOU CALLING A FREAK?”

“Y-YOU! OH MY GOD!” you stammer, scrambling to swipe your crooked glasses off your face and adjusting your very revealing pajamas.

Bakugou snorts, his crimson eyes narrowing in amusement. “I think a freak would actually enjoy this. Can’t say the same for myself.” He jerks his chin toward your current predicament, and that’s when it hits you.

You’re straddling him.

Your thighs are braced on either side of his waist, your hands planted against his abs—which, feel more like carved marble than anything remotely human. The realization sends a fresh wave of heat rushing to your face, and you squeal in pure mortification, launching yourself off him like you’ve been burned.

Now upright, you press your back hard against the wall, silently begging it to absorb you and erase the last few minutes of your existence.

Meanwhile, Bakugou stands effortlessly, not even bothering to dust himself off. He towers over you, broad-shouldered and imposing, one blonde brow raised as he surveys the mess around him.

Boxes lie scattered across the floor in every direction, and there’s still a mountain of them waiting outside. Then there’s you—pinned against the wall like a cornered animal, clutching your oversized glasses in your manicured hands.

With an exasperated sigh, Bakugou pinches the bridge of his nose, voice low and rough. “Y’know, princess, if you’re this jumpy around me, I gotta wonder how you’re gonna survive out there when we graduate and you actually have to fight people.”

Your eye twitches at the condescension dripping from his words. “That’s not—! I’m not scared of you! You’re just… you’re not supposed to be here right now!”

He scoffs, crossing his arms in that infuriatingly smug way. “Hah? Pretty sure I live here.”

“You’re supposed to be with your friends! On that stupid trip!” The venom in your voice surprises even you, and Bakugou snorts at the sight of your composure cracking.

You, little miss head held high, president of the resting bitch face club, always pretty and quiet—

The sight of you now? Glorious material.

“Well, I didn’t go. Those idiots are slacking off. We already went somewhere before the year started. Decided to stay back.”

Your brain just can't catch up. “But Kirishima went, and he’s your best friend—”

“You think that means we’re glued together?” he asks, his tone sharp, crimson eyes narrowing as if you’ve just said the dumbest thing in the world.

You bite the inside of your cheek, the sting of his words hitting harder than you’d like.

Well, how would you know? You don’t have a best friend. You don’t have any friends. The realization sits heavy in your chest, but there’s no way you’re admitting that to him. Instead, you square your shoulders and pretend it doesn’t bother you, even as heat creeps up your neck.

“Whatever,” you mutter, crossing your arms and looking away, your voice quieter now. “Sorry for blocking your way with all these boxes. I’ll get them out of your way.” You turn, already crouching to start gathering the fallen packages, but you’re unaware of the way your lips pout.

To Bakugou, you resemble a pouting child.

Spoiled.

He again, lifts a brow, red eyes darting between you and the boxes outside.

"Sure you got that by yourself?" He doesn't know why he's still stood here and talking to you really. You look like you'll explode if he keeps talking, and on any other occasion, he'd want to leave the scene as quickly as possible.

All those extras he calls classmates would have to pick up their own fucking boxes.

But you?

He pauses, watching you gingerly pick up some of the boxes from the floor and stack them; on on top of the other. You're so delicate in the way you move, quiet by nature.

Watching you do this when he's right there and capable just feels so...wrong.

He clears his throat, waiting for your response. You pause from your crouched position, glancing up at him awkwardly. It's the second time in his life he's ever seen you from this knelt looking up position, and he can't say he hates it.

Damn...maybe he is a freak.

“I mean, I might... just take a moment, sorry,” you mumble, glancing back at the barricade of boxes blocking the door.

Bakugou watches you for a beat, jaw tightening. He knows you’re more than capable—hell, you wouldn’t have made it this far at UA if you weren’t—but something about the way you look right now, small and uncertain, sets him on edge. It’s not pity, not exactly. Just...something.

Something he can’t quite put a name to, and it irritates the hell out of him.

With a low, irritated grunt, he strides forward and snatches up an entire stack of boxes, balancing them easily with one arm. “Where’s your room?”

Your head snaps up, startled. “Oh! Bakugou, you really don’t have to—”

“It’s already happening,” he cuts you off, his tone flat, leaving no room for argument.

His crimson eyes are locked ahead, like he’s determined not to look at you too long. If he does, he might start questioning why he’s even bothering—and that’s a line of thought he doesn’t want to explore.

You blink at him, caught off guard by the gesture. Then, slowly, a small smile spreads across your face, soft and genuine in a way he’s never seen before. For a second, he forgets how to breathe.

“If you insist! It’s this way,” you say, your voice lifting just enough to betray a touch of relief. You gesture down the hall, and Bakugou follows without a word, the stack of boxes balanced effortlessly in his grip.

When you push the door open, he steps inside, his crimson eyes scanning the space with an unreadable expression. It’s all so... you.

The room is pristine and meticulously organized, with a soft, almost ethereal quality to it. Pale hues and delicate details catch the light—plush white carpet, glittering accents, and soft pastel tones scattered in just the right places. It’s clean. It’s pretty. It’s even a little sparkly.

There’s a small potted plant on your desk, its leaves vibrant but plain, unremarkable—until you step past it. The moment you cross the threshold, the unassuming bud unfurls, blooming into a radiant pink flower that glows faintly, its edges shimmering like a secret come to life.

Bakugou’s gaze flicks to the flower, then to you, and back again. He barely reacts, chalking it up to your quirk doing its thing, the way quirks do. He’s seen it happen before—flowers sprouting around you at random, dotting the ground like confetti whenever you’re near.

“What is it with you and flowers growing everywhere?” he mutters, setting the boxes down in a neat stack near your carpet. His tone is gruff, not unkind, but edged with genuine curiosity.

You let out a small laugh, awkward and breathless. “It’s just... my quirk. Happens sometimes,” you say, avoiding his gaze as you fidget with the hem of your robe.

He watches you for a second longer, his sharp eyes narrowing like he doesn’t entirely believe you but doesn’t care enough to press.

Meanwhile, you glance at the glowing flower, heart racing as heat creeps up back your neck. He doesn’t realize it, of course—that it only happens when your emotions bubble too close to the surface, when you’re too nervous or too something to keep them in check.

And right now, standing this close to Bakugou Katsuki? You’re definitely too something.

“Sorry about the mess, didn’t expect company,” you say with a laugh that comes out thin and shaky, like it’s trying too hard to break the tension.

It’s forced—awkward, even—but Bakugou doesn’t linger on it. What catches his attention more is how much you remind him of Deku: nervous, fidgety, and just one nudge away from stammering out an entire essay of overexplained apologies.

Except he’d never have guessed you’d be like that. Not you, with your perfect posture, pretty face, and quiet, composed aura that usually keeps people at arm’s length.

Now, though? You’re squinting all around the room, looking more lost than anything, even with your glasses clutched tightly in your hands.

“What the hell are you doing?” he asks, his tone blunt but lacking the usual bite.

You glance up, startled. “H-huh? Oh, nothing! I’m just, uh...” You gesture vaguely toward your desk, as though that explains anything at all.

He groans, pinching the bridge of his nose. “If you can’t see, put on your damn glasses.”

Your face burns at his words, and you reflexively clutch the frames tighter. “I can see fine!” you argue, even though the way you just nearly tripped over your desk chair seconds ago says otherwise.

“Yeah, right.” Bakugou rolls his eyes, stepping past you to straighten the chair you’d bumped. “You’re squinting at nothing like a grandma. Just wear them.”

“It’s not that simple!” you shoot back, flustered now, your voice rising defensively. “They’re... they’re ugly, okay?”

He snorts, folding his arms as he leans against the desk. “Tch. Who gives a shit? Ugly glasses are better than looking stupid running into shit.”

The bluntness of his words makes you gape at him, your mouth opening and closing like you’re searching for a retort but coming up empty. He doesn’t look at you, though—his gaze drifts over to the glowing flower on your desk, his posture relaxed, as if none of this conversation is affecting him in the slightest.

“Seriously,” he mutters, almost to himself, “just put ’em on. Not like I care.”

That makes your breath hitch, and for a moment, you freeze. He doesn’t seem to notice—or maybe he just doesn’t let on if he does. But as the flowers blooming by the window’s edge glow a little brighter, you realize you’re probably not as subtle as you think.

You realize that you really can't do it, already so embarrassed for no reason at the idea of this gorgeous man seeing you look even more stupid than you already do.

In your big bunny slippers, barely there robe and pjs, tripping all over the place, these stupid glasses just can't go back on your face-

Apparently, though, his patience has run out.

Before you can react, Bakugou snatches the glasses out of your hands. You blink, startled, and barely manage to squeak out a protest before he shoves them onto your face. His fingers are firm but careful as he pushes them up the bridge of your nose, his expression completely unreadable, as if this is just another chore to check off his list.

His voice trails off as he leaves, muttering more to himself than to you, but you barely register the words. You’re too busy standing there, completely frozen, the warmth of his touch lingering on your face and your heart hammering in your chest.

Flowers bloom quietly at your feet, their glow soft and warm against the plush carpet, as you try—and fail—to pull yourself together.

“Am I gonna do all your work for you or what?!” his voice booms from downstairs, jolting you out of your daze.

You startle, a small yelp escaping before you gather yourself and rush down to meet him. As you descend, your slippers slap softly against the steps, your robe fluttering slightly in your hurry.

“I mean—you insisted on helping!” you retort, trying your best to sound firm but only managing a breathy laugh at the end.

Bakugou, standing at the bottom of the staircase with a box balanced effortlessly on his shoulder, levels you with one of his signature sharp glares. His red eyes narrow as if daring you to keep talking, though you can see the faintest twitch of amusement in his expression.

“And now I’m regrettin’ it,” he grumbles, though his actions betray his words as he adjusts the box without complaint.

Biting back a smile, you step up to grab another box from the pile. “Well, thanks anyway, Bakugou,” you say softly, not quite meeting his gaze.

“Tch. Just hurry it up, would ya?” he mutters, turning toward the door.

But as you follow behind him, you catch the faintest glance over his shoulder, and for a fleeting moment, you swear his gaze softens.

⋆˚✿˖°⋆˚✿˖°⋆˚✿˖°⋆˚✿˖°⋆˚✿˖°⋆˚✿˖°⋆˚✿˖°⋆˚✿˖°⋆˚✿˖°⋆˚✿˖

[lymtw]

Polaroid Camera

Thinking of Toji who buys a Polaroid camera for the sole purpose of capturing you on it. Some of the pictures are candid, like the one he has of you washing dishes. Your sleeves are rolled up as you lean against the kitchen sink. There's very little light shining on you through the window, but your side profile is still visible. You're holding a blue sponge, scrubbing a glass plate clean. Toji loves the domesticity of the image. It was meant to capture the view of his "wife". You're not married yet, but this photo is a preview of what he hopes one day will be a married life with you.

He has non-candid ones as well, like the one he has of you wearing one of his shirts like a dress. He was even able to capture the comfy slippers you wore with dogs all over them. You had just woken up so you had major bed head, and your eyes were slightly puffy and squinted when you looked at the camera lens. Toji remembers how mad you were that he snapped that photo of you. You sluggishly tried to snatch it away, but he held it up in the air where you couldn't reach. You gave up and went back to sleep, but once you fully woke up and saw the picture again, you told Toji to get rid of it because you looked like a hot mess. He lied and told you he cut it up, but really, he keeps it hidden in the glove compartment of his car. He even labeled it with a bold "MY LITTLE GREMLIN" written on the bottom border, beneath the picture. He pulls out the polaroid whenever he's having a rough day. It makes him crack up every time, seeing the way your hair spikes in different directions, from how much you roll around in your sleep. It really puts him in the mindset of thinking that nothing can be so terrible when he gets to wake up to you looking like you've gotten the best sleep of your life.

There are more wholesome ones that he treasures with all his being. One where you're pointing at the enormous waves that crash at the beach. You outshine everything in that picture. The burnt orange sunset that mingles with indigo colored clouds, the foamy, glistening waves that crash onto the sand—they have nothing on you and the happiness that consumes your features as you point at the explosive wave that crashes down a few feet away from you.

There's another one where you're blushing furiously with the cutest shy smile on your face. You're sitting next to him in the passenger seat of his car. Toji had just turned you into mush by bombarding you with sugarcoated words. You clearly remember the way he said "look at my pretty girl..." and "you're so cute, ma". You knew Toji was doing this to rile you up and it was working. You were feeling everything all at once. Your brain was short circuiting, and Toji was enjoying every last second of it. You couldn't even look at him with those blazing cheeks you adorned, and Toji thought it was a perfect picture so he called your name and when you instinctively turned to face him he snapped the picture.

There's one of both of you, where you're keened over in a laughing fit while Toji stares at you with the most lovestruck smile on his face. You had just started dating and nobody in the world was routing for you two, except for Shiu, one of Toji's friends. Shiu third wheeled one night and tagged along to some random bar you wanted to try out. It was supposed to be a date for you and Toji, but thankfully, you didn't have the heart to turn the man away. Shiu took the camera out of Toji's car and it ended up spending ninety percent of the time stuffed in his coat pocket. The perfect moment was hard to spot because Toji seemed so out of character around you all night. There were too many good shots and Shiu almost gave up. He had one shot because he didn't want to catch any backlash from Toji for using up his film, but finally, he looked up from his phone at the perfect moment. Toji was leaning in close to you, saying something into your ear that had you blushing with a growing smile on your face. Shiu always assumes that Toji whispered something dirty because of that sly smirk on his face, but really he just made you laugh so hard. You couldn't sit still on the barstool so you had to stand while clutching your stomach in pain from laughing so much. Toji watched you, sparing a few chuckles himself at your inability to compose yourself. Shiu clicked the button and immediately printed the photo. That picture is one of Toji's most prized possessions. He keeps that one on the dashboard of his car.

Now, Toji has a special collection. One that is hidden from everybody's eyes. Everyone but you because you're the star, as usual, in this special collection. He respects you too much to toss your consent under the rug, so he lets you know ahead of time that whatever happens when the bedroom door shuts will be memorable. With that you expected to occasionally see a few flashes of light during your passionate nights with Toji.

There's one where you're sprawled out on the bed, wearing a bra and some plaid pajama bottoms. You have one hand on your chest, your fingers nestled between your breasts, while your other hand dips into the waistband of your pants. Toji had to snap his fingers so you'd turn your attention to the camera lens because you were staring at him instead. "Over here, pretty girl," he'd say, looking through the viewfinder to center you in the frame. You give the camera a sly little grin, but once you see the flash and you know you've been captured, your gaze returns to him and you give him those eyes. They convey so much love and need for him, and he doesn't have it in him to deny you any longer of his own need for you. You're forever enticing to him, and your level of temptation is unreachable.

He captured your more blissful side in another picture. It definitely wasn't so calm and peaceful before you ended up this way, and Toji never denies it when you stumble upon on this picture during your trips through memory lane. He knows he wasn't gentle in the moments that led up to this picture, but he takes pride in the marks and scratches he left behind on you, making little comments like, "damn, I really tried leaving a scar there, huh?" or "surprised that wasn't permanent" when he sees the deep red lines on your waist and ribs. Every time you look at this picture together, he counts how many marks he left on your back because he loves how flustered you get when it makes you recall that night. The teasing is all worth it when he points at your sleeping face in the picture and tells you you look like a princess. After lots of back and forth about letting him keep a copy of this in his wallet, you caved and told him it was fine as long as his wallet was with him at all times. He became even more protective of his wallet because of this. Now he triple checks and pats his pockets to make sure it's with him anytime he goes anywhere.

There's one that he's very careful with because it has you in a position where you're fully exposed. You're lying on the bed, still fully nude with the most sultry expression on your face. Never mind the fact that Toji had just absolutely railed you and turned you into a mindless puddle on the bed, but you were glowing effortlessly, and Toji had to capture you to make this image eternal. He asked if it was okay to take your picture like this and you just shrugged with a satisfied grin on your face. Your muscles were so tense, you had to stretch your limbs out to bring back a good amount of blood flow. Toji found his camera in time to view you in this unintentional pose. You were brilliant—absolutely stunning. "Just like that, ma. Keep your arms crossed above your head," he instructed. The position made your chest pop more, and your eyes had this twinkle of saintliness to them despite the dark lust emanating from them. Your whole body was in the frame, one of your legs was bent at the knee while the other laid flat on the bed. The mess between your thighs was very much visible, and seeing it through the viewfinder only made Toji's dick come back to life even quicker. You didn't give him a bright and innocent smile, instead you went for the more seductive approach and bit your lip. The flash struck your eyes, and once again, you were a memory on Toji's camera. Toji set the camera aside and climbed right back onto you to continue what was never actually finished.