#he definitely wanted the reader to take it easy

[livvymd]

Everyone Thinks They’re Dating—They’re Not. (Yet)

Chapter Two — Not a Date (But Maybe It Is.) george clarke x reader.

Y/N groaned as her ringtone buzzed sharply through the stillness of her room.

She blindly reached for her phone on the bedside table, knocking over a nearly empty glass of water in the process. “Shit,” she muttered, dragging the phone toward her.

Her eyes barely adjusted to the light when she saw the name flashing across the screen.

Incoming FaceTime Call — George Clarke 🍻

She blinked.

Then blinked again.

Was this a mistake? Maybe he butt-dialled her?

She stared at the screen like it might give her an answer—but it just kept buzzing, insistent and cheerful, like of course George Clarke would FaceTime her before 10am after a night out.

Her heart thumped in a weirdly alert way, completely mismatched with how dead she felt physically.

She let it ring once more. Twice. Then sighed and hit “accept.”

The screen flipped to reveal George, all annoyingly handsome with sleepy curls and a smug half-grin, holding a mug of tea like he’d just walked off the cover of a Sunday morning lifestyle shoot.

“Good morning, poppet,” he said, far too cheery.

Y/N winced at the brightness behind him, rubbing her face. “You’re disgusting.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“Why are you awake?” she groaned, flopping back against the pillows. “And more importantly, why are you FaceTiming me at—” she glanced at the time, “—9:47am like an unhinged person?”

George took a sip of his tea. “Woke up early. Didn’t feel like texting. Wanted to see how rough you looked after pub golf.”

“Well,” she muttered, dragging her blanket over half her face, “mission accomplished.”

He chuckled. “You actually look better than I expected.”

“You’re a menace.”

“You answered though.”

She hesitated, then shrugged. “Curiosity. Or delusion. Could be either.”

“You were definitely snoring when I called.”

“I don’t snore,” she said quickly, pointing a finger at the screen. “Take that back.”

“Alright, alright,” he smirked. “Probably just heavy breathing. Dramatic stuff.”

She narrowed her eyes but couldn’t help the smile tugging at her lips. “You’re unreal.”

George raised an eyebrow. “You said that like it’s a bad thing.”

She exhaled slowly, dragging herself upright and pushing her hair out of her face. “I need tea if I’m gonna tolerate this conversation.”

“You’re on a FaceTime hangover call with me, and tea is your concern?”

“I’m British, George. There are rules.”

He grinned and leaned his phone against something, giving her a view of his kitchen while he pottered about. She did the same, propping up her phone on a cereal box as she shuffled to boil the kettle. Somehow, the call didn’t drop. Neither of them made a move to end it.

“So,” she said while dunking a tea bag lazily, “how do you feel? Post-pub golf?”

“Surprisingly okay,” George replied. “Although Chip owes me £20 because he swore I’d tap out after hole seven.”

She laughed. “You were suspiciously good at it. I feel like this isn’t your first time.”

“I’m not saying I’ve trained, but I’m not not saying that either.”

“Dangerous,” she grinned, wrapping her hands around her mug. “You’re the dark horse of the group.”

“Don’t tell Chris. He’ll make it a bit.”

They fell into easy conversation after that, swapping blurry memories from the night before, laughing about Arthur Hill getting heckled by a passing hen party, and rewatching part of Chris’s Instagram story where Y/N and George could be seen fake-flirting across a beer pong table.

“Oh my god,” she groaned, watching it again, “I look like I was in love with you.”

“You were,” George teased. “I was irresistible. You said I had ‘surprisingly kind eyes.’”

“I what?” she choked on her tea.

“Don’t worry,” he said, grinning wickedly. “I’ve got witnesses.”

“Oh, piss off—”

“Nah, sorry. Too late. I’ve written it down. Gonna frame it.”

Y/N hid her face behind her mug, laughing. “God, I’m never drinking with you lot again.”

“You say that,” he murmured, softer now. “But you didn’t seem like you hated it.”

She glanced back at the screen, heart giving a traitorous skip. “No,” she admitted. “Didn’t hate it.”

They paused. Just long enough for the silence to feel meaningful.

Then George cleared his throat, scratching his neck. “You know, if you ever wanted to hang out... not during filming or in a pub full of forfeits and camera angles...”

Her eyebrows raised slightly. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he said. “Like, just us. No games. No chaos. I think we’d get on alright.”

Y/N tilted her head, teasing, “Are you asking me out, George Clarke?”

He raised both hands. “Not officially. Not yet. I’m asking if you’d want to get coffee or something. I mean, we’ve technically had breakfast together now, so it’s only fair.”

She bit her lip, then nodded slowly. “Alright. Coffee sounds nice.”

A smile flickered across his face, warm and boyish and just a little bit smug. “Cool. I’ll text you about it.”

“I’ll hold you to that.”

“You better.”

They ended up staying on the call for nearly three hours.

It wasn’t on purpose—there was just always another tangent, another laugh, another “Wait, before we hang up—” excuse to stay. By the time Y/N finally ended the call, her cheeks were sore from smiling and her heart felt oddly light.

As soon as the screen went black, her phone lit up again.

George Clarke 🍻 You still look good with bed hair, by the way.

She stared at the text, grinning like an idiot, and typed back:

Y/N: You’re full of shit.

George Clarke 🍻 You love it.

And maybe... she did.

TAGLIST @sundarksposts @tyna-19 @wherethezoes-at

just send a comment to be added to the taglist x

[crimsonbubble]

Anywhere and Everywhere

cw. nsfw, afab!reader, perv bf yunho, panty stealing, freeuse, somnophilia, overstimulation, edging, breeding kink, creampies, photo taking, maserbation, exhibitionism, public sex *not proofread, just pure horny*

[may or may not be inspired from @everyonewooeverywhere 😶‍🌫️😶‍🌫️]

taglist (dm to be tagged); @sidusvenari @sugarnspice630 @ravenempress101 @autieofthevalley @linearities @wisejudgedragonhairdo @madiexuberant @mifuelarts @straytiny127 @yun-fangz @huen1ngk41 @juyeonshour @uniq-tastic @hongjng8 @miyaluvvsyou @everyonewooeverywhere @hongjoongtime117 @oddracha @kingbloopter @jay-0n3s @ane1o2 @jelly1117 @aftertherain-atr @k-zuzulibrary @lxnnrobin @felixs-voice-makes-me-wanna @lezleegerguson-120 @moonlitarcade

Perv bf Yunho who loves nothing more than to disturb your peace, wriggles his way into your pants no matter the task at hand.

Perv bf Yunho who loves to bend you over the kitchen counter when you’re cooking. Whether he turns the stove off or not is entirety up to if he wants to waste a few seconds away from your sweet cunt. The answer is always no. He slides in so easily and just starts pounding into your sticky cunt. He knows that you know, and no matter what you’re doing, he will get a taste of you.

Perv bf Yunho who always stuffs your holes full of his cum. Filling you up over and over again, just to feel how tightly your pussy wraps around him. Loves the feeling when you milk him dry. Especially when you fuck yourself back onto his cock. He’ll come in you holes, pullout just to watch it drip down your thighs before he scoops it back up with his tip and slides back in and fucks another load into you. If you manage to keep your panties intact after this whole ordeal, Yunho will put them back into place as if he didn’t just use you like a cum dump.

Perv bf Yunho who steals your panties just so he can soil them, wraps them around his dick and jerks off with them. He does it even more so when you’re home just to have you reprimand him. He’s the type to continue jacking off while you’re trying to scold him just bc he loves hearing your voice. Doesn’t matter what you’re saying, if your pretty lips are moving, his dick is twitching.

Perv bf Yunho who falls to knees every time you wear easy access clothes. Any pretty dress or skirt is getting flipped up over your ass at your earliest inconvenience. He has an entire folder on his phone, albeit password protected, of upskirt shots he’s managed to take of you. He’s the type to pull you into barely secluded corners just to grope under your clothes.

Perv bf Yunho who loves loves loves to grope you, literally anywhere and everywhere. His fav thing to grope is your ass. His hands are huge, and he absolutely loves to just palm it, squeeze it and most definitely smacks it with no remorse. This ties into his love of dry humping. Thoroughly enjoys rutting his thick, leaking cock against you.

Perv bf Yunho who loves that his gf is just as perverted as he is. This is a two-way street, baby. He goes wild when his pretty girl uses his cock like he’s not even there. Acting like he's nothing more than a living dildo for his baby to use and abuse.

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

HOWDY HEYYY

Can you please make a story where Ena tries to take reader out for dinner (date or not WHATEVER U WANT) but the stinky penguin aka Dracula (or whatever character u want) ruins it because why not

MAKE SURE TO TAKE CARE OF URSELF

Thank you! Hope you're taking care of yourself, too! <3

.........

As it turns out, Ena's definition of a "high stakes meeting" ended up being something totally different by the time you arrived to the destination.

Of course..you should have expected this out of your girlfriend. She wanted to take you out on a date, but she could never simply say "let's go out". No sir..

She had to give you coordinates on paper to this exact location, attaching files that looked like they were printed off a PowerPoint with step-by-step instructions on how to reach it. She claimed she heard about this place "from a friend of a friend of a friend", although she didn't elaborate anymore than that. You didn't want nor need her to.

When you finally made it, you were surprised to be standing in front of a simple steak restaurant with a bar inside. Nothing fancy or inexpensive. Just plain and simple, with exterior western aesthetics to boot.

'Ah, high "steaks" meeting..I get it now.' An amused smile graced your lips as you pushed the door open, seeing no line and nobody except Ena talking to the host.

But upon closer examination, you realize she's not talking...

She's yelling.

"I cannot serve you yet, ma'am! Didn't you read the sign?"

"NO, BUT I SEE SEVERAL HEALTH CODE VIOLATIONS ALREADY! YOU WANNA GET SHUTDOWN?! REBRANDED?? I SUGGEST YOU GIVE ME AND MY ASSOCIATE A TABLE STAT!!" Her Meanie side snarls, geometric claws gripping the podium, almost like she's ready to rip it off its hinges. "OR I'LL DEVALUE THIS PROPERTY WITH MY OWN TWO HANDS!!"

'Typical Ena..' You sigh.

It was never easy dating her. Nothing about her says it'd be easy at all. But you were willing to stick through the difficult times--the times when a seemingly "normal" day ends up being the opposite.

Apparently, tonight wasn't going to be an exception.

"Like I said, I cannot seat a party of two if both entities aren't present-"

"I'm the other party member! Excuse my partner. She's had a...rough day at work."

Ena blinked, spinning around to see you have finally arrived, and her Salesperson side grinned with relief. "Oh you made it! I knew you would." She took your hands, before looking back at the host. Her expression was smug. "Now...about our table for two, good sir?"

"....of course. Right this way, Kena."

..........

"This was..very sweet of you to plan out, Ena. The food was great. But don't you think you were being a little harsh with the host? I mean...he's not the owner. He's just following the rules."

"I wouldn't care if he was the owner in disguise..I went through hell to get this reservation.." Meanie grumbled, her fork stabbing at the holographic png of a steak on her plate. "They didn't even wanna put my name on the list. How crazy is that?!!"

"Well...that's-" You started, only for her to put the utensil down and clap her hands.

"No, no..it's alright. I'm over it. It's all said and done. There's a more important matter at hand..." Her Salesperson's charm returned, her smile gentle. "I'd like to take this opportunity to renew our contract. You may find additional details that you oughta review."

Out of thin air, she presented you with a document on a clipboard, which you took. "I'm open to questions, comments, and concerns..but no criticism, please."

The moment you read it, you realized it was the confession letter she had given you several months ago. When words failed her back then, she just had you review this "contract" and wanted your signature of approval--and yes, that included your actual signature with a pen.

You remember how much of a flustered mess she was, mumbling to herself and fighting with her Meanie side over whether you'd see her "potential" and commit to her business wholly.

It took her a solid minute before she realized you signed and dated the paper, accepting her confession.

Now, you noticed that she stapled on a few more pages. They all contained ideas for future dates, written in typical business jargon that anyone else wouldn't understand--but for you, it was easy to decode.

"High stakes meetings" translated to going to a restaurant, such as where you both were tonight.

"Taking inventory on cosmic horrors and astronomical anomalies across the infinite horizon" was basically her way of asking you to go stargazing with her over the lake of viscous blood.

At the start, you've been worried that she wasn't taking this relationship as seriously as you did. You didn't know if she'd just treat you more like a business partner than a romantic one, but....this immediately cleared those doubts from your mind.

She was in this for the long run.

She wanted to deliver on her promises of "100% happiness for life" and make you feel like the most important person in her world.

"Well, you have my signature of approval." You chuckled softly, signing the bottom of the first page and sliding it back to her side. "Now then, did you want dessert or-?"

"I AM DRATULA!!!"

From a dark cloud of smoke and lightning, a certain half-penguin, half-vampire entity appeared. He was buzzed out of his mind as he swung a full wine glass around, laughing obnoxiously, before he accidentally bumped into the table.

Large droplets of red liquid splattered onto the paper, soaking it entirely to where the text was illegable.

"No!! NOOOO! Wha...What have you done?!!" Ena could only watch in utter despair and horror as it dissolved into nothingness. "Our contract!! It's....It's all ruined!! And it's--ALL YOUR FAULT!!!"

Fueled by Meanie's anger, she slammed both fists on the table and got up, glaring at the confused Dratula.

"Uhh..was I interrupting something?"

"YEAH!! OUR DATE, YOU ASSHOLE!!" Grabbing the lapels of his suit, she began shaking him back and forth violently, yelling nonsense as he tried to frantically defend himself.

Somehow, he thought uttering his name over and over would help matters.

It didn't.

Meanwhile, the other restaurant patrons have gone silent and were staring at the two. Some of them even look at you, and the secondhand embarrassment had grown tenfold.

You sighed, cleaning off your hands before getting up, knowing you had to disperse this before all three of you got kicked out.

"Come on, Ena. That's enough." By some miracle, you managed to separate them, keeping them at arms length.

Dratula looked frightened, while Ena looked a feral cat who didn't wanna give up a fight, snarling and hissing threats to him. "LET ME AT HIM, BABE!! I'LL TEACH THIS OLD BAT A LESSON-!!"

"I said that's enough!! You're causing a big scene!!"

Hearing your angered tone, she abruptly ceased all motions, her head slowly turning to you. For a brief moment, your expression showed nothing but pure frustration, but even though it disappeared quickly, it lingered long enough to make her feel absolutely horrible.

Her Meanie side gulped, for once looking intimidated rather than being the intimidating one. 'They...They got mad at me...' Her hands trembled, and she backed away from you.

Then you looked at Dratula, who was now staring into his wine glass, disappointed that most of it was gone. "How rude...I only wanted to ask how your date was going! I wasn't looking for trouble!"

"It was going good..until you spilled your drink everywhere." You huffed. "But it's fine. I know it was an accident. Ena and I were just...." But when you looked over your shoulder, you didn't find her by your side anymore. "Crap. Where'd she go?"

"Huh...beats me. Say, are you going to finish that?" He pointed to the untouched drink on your side of the table. You shook your head and sighed, digging up some chocolates and a fatty catty from your pocket, setting it down on top of the check that somehow appeared during the chaos.

However much the bill was, you didn't care. You were more worried about where your girlfriend ran off to.

Fortunately, the patrons who were watching the show were now minding their own business. As soon as the waiter came by to collect the check, you thanked him for the service and bid Dratula farewell, going off to search for Ena.

You eventually found her up at the bar all alone, with her hat on the floor, and several empty shot glasses to her right. 'Damn..how did she drink that much in such a short time?'

But as you got closer, you could hear her wallowing to the poor bartender about the events that transpired merely minutes ago.

"A-And...and then they yelled at me! Sayin' I caused a big scene!" Her Meanie side hiccupped, slinging back another shot before slamming it down.

"Well um...you kinda did.."

"I'm the worst, aren't I?" Her forehead collided with the table, her sclera turning black. "Why does every good thing I try to do for 'em go to shit?! I must be cursed...a victim of capitalism who can't afford one moment of respite. Damn it all!!" She banged her clawed fist down, sniffling. "Maybe I'm not cut out for this business.."

"You forgot something."

Feeling the familiar hat being placed on her, she turned her head to see you on the barstool beside hers. You set a hand on her back, giving the bartender an apologetic smile. "You can close her tab. She's had enough."

"There's that buzzword again....."enough". I bet all my life savings that you've had enough of me, right?"

Looking down at her once more, you sighed. "Ena, that's not what-"

"This night...'wuz supposed to be perfect for you. 100% satisfaction with guaranteed happiness. But all I've gotten was....negative feedback from my most valued client. Forgive me, m-my..my most treasured colleague.." She sounded like she was about to cry, her eyes turning glossy. "My heart's going through a recession, and my liver has no resale value. Would you like a refund on your experience?"

Her Salesperson side never sounded so....upset, and you frowned, hating to see her look so guilty; so ashamed for letting herself get out of hand again--and above all else, so afraid that you were mad at her because of that.

"Sweetheart, it's alright. I'm sorry I got angry earlier. I had a good time tonight. I really did." You comforted, rubbing her back. "But how about...I choose the place next time?"

"..but...but our contraaaaact..." She whined, her meanie and salesperson voices blending into one for a moment. "'s gone down the drain..like our stock.."

"It's not null and void just because the paper got ruined. We can draft a new one together, and....maybe have it laminated so that doesn't happen again."

Those words seemed to bring the spark back to her eyes, as she sat up and gave you the sweetest yet most lopsided grin. She grasped your hands, the stool's legs wobbling--yet somehow she was able to hold herself steady.

"Your strategic mind never fails to impress me, [y/n]. I promise..I'll pick up the tab at our next endeavor." She winked, before her Meanie side glared at the bartender. "HEY! Bring my partner here the best of the best!!"

"...I, erm..already closed your tab at their request, miss."

"Why I oughta-!!"

Before things could escalate for the third time tonight, you gave her paler side a kiss on the cheek, and she turned back to you, looking absolutely flustered. "A-Ah...you...I...." But she couldn't find the words.

"Why don't we go home?" You calmly suggested. "The sooner we work on that contract, the better."

"....f-fine."

For once, Meanie was complacent in what you wanted to do. So after paying the tab (by offering the bartender a fatty catty), you had to escort your drunken girlfriend home--which was an experience in itself as she nearly threw hands with Dratula again on her way out.

But she gave up quickly and opted to cling to you and brag about how awesome you were for "putting up" with an "economical disaster" like her.

Would you go out to dinner with her again? Definitely.

Will you have countermeasures in-place to minimize the amount of chaos that may inevitably occur? Also yes.

[sangunary]

- Poor baby۶ৎ

BATFAM X NEGLECTED READER.

IMP: Sucide, child neglection, torture.

You were an orphan adopted by a wealthy man who later turned out to be Batman, yes you were full of joy and excitement. Who wouldn't be? To be apart of the Wayne family and to save people... That was every child dream.

They made you feel loved and wanted and you got addicted to that feeling... Because you've never felt so great before. You crave attention and validation, they're the one who introduced you to that feeling in the first place.

But as time past so did their affection and attention. Their adoration began to fade slowly and you cling onto the feeling with all your might but that was not enough. Nothing was enough.

Damian got introduced to the family, a new image for the picture. He was rude and opposite of you yet everybody love him... And you began to fade into the background.

Everybody love Damian, it doesn't matter if he was respectful or not... He didn't have to try so hard to have the spotlight unlike you, he didn't crave the light as much as you did but he still got it.

Your title of being Robin was rip from you.

It didn't even take a year for you to be replaced.

You felt like a baby who was being taught to walk and the moment another baby comes they completely let go of your hand. It was cruel and painful, you weren't ready to face the word yet.

You couldn't do anything, they were your family by paper whether you liked it or not.

Here you were sitting on the edge of a building letting the rain soaked your entire body.

Today you had a big fight with Bruce. It was a nasty fight that ended in him slapping you across the face...

It started out simple, you were jealous- envious of Damian... Because everytime he did even something as simple as putting back a book your achievements get hidden away. Not to mention on how his grade were much better than yours when he didn't even try.

You didn't even sleep a wink and he still was ahead of you and worst of them all everyone saw you as a slacker... It was not fair, you spent hour's and hours trying to be good at something but somebody in the family managed to be better.

You were tired of trying so you gave up, that day Damian was just straight up bullying you.

"You do realised blood like yours have no place in here? I suggest you take the easy way and leave... it'll be the trash taking itself out "

His word sting especially today... He did everything in his power to seperate you from the rest of the family and it was working.

Without any warning you threw a book at him and it hit him square in the face. It was a moment of anger you apologise profusely...

It's just... Damian always picked on you, called you names, ruin your birthday and... He took everybody away from you... Today was just a bad day in general because you overheard Alfred talking to Bruce about you.

Calling you difficult and how he wondered how you became such failure compared to your oh so perfect siblings.

You've been weeping for hours you can't stop yourself... It's been so long, it's been years. For year's you have been logging for your family to love you, the same people who took you by choice.

It was unfair, they hook you up to make you feel like you matter in reality you never matter, you were just a substitute.

You've tried, you definitely did tried... Why would someone who doesn't even want you in the first play choose you? Out of all the kid's in the orphanage they took you, they knew the responsibility... They took you as an accessory not as a person.

"Dammit..." you curse under your breath, your entire body was trembling, breath hot and messy... You couldn't stop the hiccup even when you cover your own mouth with your hands.

Every bad memories was surfacing, how everybody saw you as a spoiled child even tho they had it better than you could ever wish for. How everybody saw you as a headache.

You look pathetic, the same hero who saved people was now in need of help.

Before you could even finish crying you felt somebody hands on your body and before you could fight back a piece of febric was forcefully place on your nose. As you panicked you accidentally sniff the intoxicating smell.

It didn't take long for your body to react and shut down, you stumble on the ground laying there, your eyes bagan to shut themselves and before you could utter a word you saw the chilling smile of Joker.

When you woke up you were tied up, an old television infront of you... And the haunting figure of the man who have done this.

"What do you want?" You asked without hesitation, ignoring the throbbing pain of your head.

"Oh, simple... Just enjoy the show"

With that said he turn on the television with a press as he walk behind you and stood there, he gently place his cold hand's on your shoulder.

The video began to play, it was inside the manor during christmas... Everybody but you were present.

"As much as I like her... She's too full of herself. Oh and don't forget the 'Barbara is this great?' 'barbara can we please talk' blah blah blah... it's getting annoying- already is annoying"

"Oh definitely! She ruin the mood... That's why we... the best members of the family do thing's in secret"

"She asked me to kept this diary of her's a secret and God she's a crybaby... I've read the whole thing and I cannot stop laughing"

"Oh! C'mon this is a great tea! let's read it!"

"Isn't that invading her privacy?"

"... She's not here"

With that they began to read your personal diary where you wrote down your whole feelings. Your heart ache as they began to laugh at every word, you've given that Diary to Dick because you trusted him the most...

Another tape began to play. It was the previous gala...

It started out normal until they began to mock you... A desperate girl who would do anything for validation.

Each tape was about your own family mocking and talking behind your back... Calling you a desperate baby and how you need to grow up.

You've been crying hysterically.

You've never done anything in your life to hurt them it was the complete opposite... you praise and complement them but they were so willing to use your name for entertainment.

It hurt that none of your supposed family even like you...

"Nobody... love me? Why?"

"It's because you're just not supposed to be loved" Joker replied still smiling.

"I tried so hard.. but nobody care about me... Im not even a person to them..."

"Im a good student, im polite... I should be loved! it's unfair... I just wanted to be loved "

Life was cruel, it will always be towards you. It took your parents and left you stranded, the system wasn't great it took advantage of those who were vulnerable... Suddenly your life turned around to be loved and just to be betrayed by the same people who you called family.

"I deserve to be loved!... I just want my family to love me"

It was true you were just a baby at heart. You were impulsive and would jump at any opportunity to be acknowledged by your family...

Even Alfred doesn't like you, he barely even pick you up from school, made food you do not like and lectured you if you don't eat...Force eating was not fun.

Just like a baby you needed to be nurtured and cared for... Everybody got that except you.

Joker let you off free no torture atleast not physically.

"Dad... could we talk please?"

you asked outside the his office... You were desperately, your mind was being polluted and you need your father.

"Im busy"

Right, too busy saving everybody's else and watching you rot...

"Please... I need you"

you plead, you didn't want to face the truth... it scares you. Life was too hard on you.

"Im busy, go disturb Richard"

Disturb? right your whole existence was just to disturb everybody else from having a great time.

With that said you began to search for Richard...

Instead you bump into Jason his face was still plastered with the same old frown.

Jason used to adore you calling you his favourite infront of everybody else but now... He doesn't even recognise you or he pretend not to.

"Jay... could you please listen to me, life is really hard and today I enco-"

"Listen up princess"

he began, looking down at your small frame.

"Life is hard, everybody had it hard... Not everything is about you and unlike you, we don't bitch around... We deal with it"

Your hand's began to tremble, he was suffocating and scary especially when he's pissed off.

"We're not spoiled like you. This is why the rest of the family Don't like being around you... You always complain like a baby"

Before he could say more you left. You went straight to the library just to saw the rest cuddling together watching some movie.

"Excuse me?"

"Go away... we're having a family moment"

Damian spoke, the couch was facing the other side of the wall and they didn't even looked at you.

"Yeah... you're ruining the mood here"

"Can you get some popcorn tho?"

Right to them you were just a baby... spoiled to the core nothing more.

Your mind was polluted and your heart was aching badly, the word joker told you began to surface.

You walked towards the open window, the wire of the lamp cling onto your ankle... Without a thought you leap.

If the word doesn't want you why must you keep suffering?.

This is such a bad one im sorry.

[chanelrolls]

blizzard? i hardly know her

pairing. afab!fem reader x CALEB (modern college au)

tags. fluff, nsfw, smut, mature content, cheesy romance, forced proximity, slowburn, unestablished relationship, plot-based, tension, so much tension, accidental sleepover, zayne & caleb are sibs with a mum, eventual smut, oral, t!tplay, f!ngering, penetration, missionary, slight manhandling, 18+

synopsis. what happens when you get stuck inside your crush's house?

wc. 6.9k (lmao)

crunch. crunch. crunch.

the frosty snow lies thick beneath your boots, making a satisfying crunch with every heavy step you take. your thick fur boots keep you warm as you wander up the quiet street, heading toward the center of town. each house you pass is decked out in bright, cheerful christmas lights, shimmering merrily. it’s still early, just 2 o’clock, but it feels like the entire town is already wrapped in the christmas spirit.

well, it is the 22nd of december. with only three days left until the long-awaited 25th, it’s no surprise that festive excitement lingers in the air.

ah, winter. the season that always felt like magic. your favorite time of the year. but this time, something was different. this time, you were actually doing something bold.

you held the small, carefully wrapped package tighter between your gloves, heart pounding as you took in the cold air. you knew exactly where you were headed and who it was for.

caleb.

he was the kind of guy every girl dreamed about; smart, charismatic, manly, athletic, and ridiculously good-looking. a bit older than you. you'd been lowkey obsessed with him for half a year. yes, you kept track.

you wanted to talk to him so many times, but every chance slipped past. you didn’t have the guts. you had no idea how to even start a convo with a guy you liked. were you supposed to act casual? or make it obvious? how do people even do this?

the funny part? caleb and you had never even spoken. not once. you were practically strangers. but he was popular, the kind of guy people naturally gravitated toward. everyone liked him. which meant if you didn’t make a move soon, someone else definitely would.

so yeah, you needed to act. fast.

and somehow, through sheer force of will and probably a touch of delusion, you came up with a plan: give him a christmas gift. nothing huge. just something small... and anonymous. no pressure, just a gesture.

luckily, you knew something most people didn’t. caleb’s family owned that cozy little bakery down the street. they lived right above it, in the apartment on the second floor. which made things easy since there was a letterbox right next to the bakery door. accessible and just perfect. the plan was really simple: drop off the gift, then vanish. just you, taking a tiny step closer to the boy you couldn’t stop thinking about.

your stomach started doing that weird twisty thing again the closer you got to caleb’s bakery. the street was quiet, but the snow was beginning to fall faster now, tiny flurries brushing your cheeks, clinging to your coat. you picked up the pace. if you dropped the gift off fast enough, you could make it home before the snow really picked up.

except... you didn’t. because just as you stopped in front of the bakery, frozen and staring at the familiar brick facade, you heard a faint voice that sounded like it was calling for somebody.

your heart practically jumped out of your chest. you spun around, eyes wide. there was no one around. but the snow had gotten worse. way worse. you could barely see down the road now. great. just great.

you were such an idiot. there had been blizzard warnings all week. and you, genius that you were, had thought today of all days was the perfect time to sneak out and play santa.

this was bad. really bad.

you whimpered when something sharp, maybe a twig or a chunk of ice, scratched across your cheek. the cold bit harder now, winds screaming past your ears. panic rose like a wave. you spun around, searching, desperate, but there was nothing. just white. endless, suffocating white.

and then, arms. strong ones, wrapping around you before you could even scream. you kicked once, tried to twist away, heart hammering like a drum, but your body was too numb to fight back.

you were being dragged, somewhere. and then, just as suddenly, it stopped.

a bell chimed overhead. warmth hit your face. your nose filled with the smell of cinnamon, sugar, and something buttery. the sound of the wind dulled behind you.

a bakery...

you blinked the snow out of your eyes, breath uneven, still bracing to fight whoever had grabbed you. and then, "are you alright?" you instantly looked up at the familiar voice. standing there, a towel in hand, snow in his dark hair and a concerned frown on his face—was zayne. caleb’s older brother.

so there you were.

the older brother of your crush was standing right in front of you, waiting for an answer. and oh, you were inside his family’s bakery. and above this very shop? their house. which meant... caleb was probably somewhere upstairs right now. maybe even within earshot. oh, and let’s not forget the tiny detail that a literal snow blizzard was raging outside. no one in their right mind would be out in that. except you, naturally.

and in your hand? a poorly hidden, slightly crumpled gift you were now awkwardly trying to shield behind your back like some suspicious cartoon character. how dandy could things possibly get?

you nodded at zayne, way too eagerly. like, suspiciously eagerly. like those nodding dogs that people placed in the dashboards of their car.

zayne narrowed his eyes at you doubtfully,

“[name], right?” he asked, arms placed at his sides loosely. you nodded again. silent. awkward. praying the gift behind your back would suddenly vanish into thin air.

it wasn’t surprising that he knew your name. in a town like this, everyone knew everyone. gossip traveled faster than snowstorms.

“take a seat,” he said, gesturing to a chair near the counter. “i’ll go get my mum. she’ll know what to do.” you hesitated, but your legs were too cold and tired to argue. the gift stayed clenched in your hands behind your coat as you shuffled toward the seat, cheeks burning. zayne turned and walked off, calling out, “mum!” as he disappeared into the back.

you were alone now. in his bakery. with his gift. and his family upstairs. great. just great.

moments later, footsteps echoed from the stairs behind the counter. then came a voice, warm, lively, and full of disbelief. “zayne, who in their right mind would even be outside right now? the news said—” she stopped mid-rant when your eyes met hers.

“oh, my stars!” mrs. xia gasped, practically flying toward you with a flurry of movement and a hand pressed to her chest. “darling, what happened? are you hurt? are you frozen? do you even have gloves? look at your face, it’s all red—”

“mum,” zayne cut in, clearly used to the routine as he placed a hand on her shoulder. “you’re overwhelming her.”

“nonsense,” she said, swatting a hand at him, still hovering over you, staring at you with the eyes caleb had inherited from, while zayne probably got his from their father. “go make her some hot chocolate. extra marshmallows.” zayne sighed at the sudden obligation, but nonetheless vanished back into the kitchen with reluctant acceptance.

you were officially alone, with the mother of your crush. and she was observing you like you were a lost duckling. “well then,” she began, folding her arms and leaning just a little too close. “how are you feeling?”

"i... i'm okay. just a little cold..."

"well, i'll bet you are! whatever were you doing wandering outside?"

your grip tightened around the gift behind you. you smiled, then lied. “i… i just wanted some air.”

her eyes narrowed, suspicious but amused. “in the middle of a snowstorm?”

you forced a chuckle, trying to look casual. “y-yes. it was… a really strong urge.”

"ah, now look at you," she laughed, before noticing your uncomfortable expression. "oh my dear, i'm so sorry, i'm such a scatterbrain! here, give me your coat," mrs. xia's outstretched hand made you suddenly aware of your shivering frame. with trembling hands, you undid the buttons of your coat, shrugging out of the soppy mess. instantly, you felt the warmth of the bakery's cozy atmosphere seeping through the fabric of your long-sleeved top. you're still holding caleb's gift protectively.

mrs. xia took your coat, draping it over a radiator. "there, there, now once you've got some hot chocolate in you, you'll be warm and better in no time!" she beams at you, clasping her hands together. "that's if my incompetent son manages to make it for you."

the thudding footsteps coming down the stairs rang out, and then revealed a frowning zayne with a cup of steaming hot chocolate between his fingers. his obvious scoffing received a light chortle from mrs. xia, watching as zayne turn towards you. you gently take the beverage from him, pinkies faintly brushing against one another. you try to hold yourself back from taking a long sniff of the mouthwateringly sweet aroma across your watchful saviours, so you slowly take a sip. "it's lovely," you look up at them. "thank you..."

zayne crosses his arms while sneaking a glance at his mother in response, the corner of his lips subtly lifted. all mrs. xia could do was to raise her hands up in defeat.

after getting scolded by your mother on the phone call, you passed the phone to mrs. xia when she gestured for it, and the shift in atmosphere was immediate. the motherly concern turned into light banter, like two women slipping into a shared rhythm. the volume of their voices carried, but the meaning was distant now. their laughter settled into the corners of the room.

you sat curled on the edge of the chair, a blanket draped over your shoulders like a lifeline. the mug of hot chocolate sat on the table in front of you, its surface now still, save for a lone marshmallow melting into the brown. your hands were no longer trembling, but your mind hadn’t caught up.

the gift was tucked underneath the blanket now, safe but painfully present. its shape still pressed against your side. you hadn’t decided what you were going to do with it yet. the original plan had evaporated with the first gust of wind that knocked you off your—

footsteps.

zayne approached you quietly, though there was a kind of presence to him that made silence feel heavier. you looked up just as he stopped beside your chair. his hands were shoved into the pockets of his dark sweater, and the light caught in the glint of his cuff. his eyes flicked down to the mug, then returned to you. no smile. just that same unreadable calm.

but then he said, with a voice that was quieter than the rest of him. “be honest. did it taste good?”

you blinked, taken off guard. his tone wasn’t sarcastic. it wasn’t cold, either. it was... curious. like your opinion actually mattered. you nodded after a moment, the corners of your mouth lifting, unsure. “yeah. it did. just sweet enough.”

there was the smallest shift in his posture.

“good,” he looked away, “mum always makes it too sugary. i adjusted the recipe a bit.”

"don't you mean caleb adjusted it?" a voice sounded from the entrance of the backroom, and your head snapped to the source abruptly, zayne mirroring your actions, although less frantic.

don't blush. act cool. nonchalant. not a big deal.

oh, who are you kidding? of course, this is a big deal!

because standing right there, leaning against the doorframe so effortlessly, and looking so extremely attractive, was caleb. caleb xia. the whole reason why you were in this mess in the first place.

tall and loose-limbed, with the kind of posture that made everything about him look unbothered. his brown hair was tousled in that way that looked intentional but probably wasn’t. soft strands fell across his forehead, catching the light like autumn leaves. but it was his eyes that held you the longest. a pale lilac that didn’t quite belong to this world. they were beautiful.

his gaze swept over the room slowly before settling on you, and though he wasn’t smiling, there was something playful in the tilt of his mouth, the subtle raise of one brow.

it took you a few seconds to process what he had said.

hang on a minute...

"i... thought zayne made it for me?" you dragged your words, your voice coming out louder than you intended, more so to yourself than to anyone in particular. now all of your nerves that were previously panicking was replaced by confusion.

caleb gives zayne a dry look, before turning to face you fully.

oh, that gorgeous, sexy, amazing, and handsome face!

"there are two things you should know about my brother," caleb told you, the sound of your name in his slow, steady voice completely warming your insides.

oh my GOD. he's talking to me. he's talking to ME and looking at ME.

his footsteps dragged on across the floorboards while he stepped closer. "one: zayne plus the kitchen equals a disaster, and two: he may appear like a knight in shining silk but he's a total liar."

zayne only stared at him with a cold glare, and caleb smiled back cheekily at him. his gorgeous amethyst eyes holding a spark of mischief, "so who's mum on the phone to?"

"my mum," you replied, (even though it looked like it was zayne he was asking) to which caleb nodded in quiet understanding. a brief silence fell upon you, so you took another sip from the hot chocolate, the knowledge that your crush being the one who actually made it, now heartwarmingly sitting in your head.

caleb noticed.

"i make a pretty good hot chocolate, huh?" caleb chuckled handsomely, striding through the room and hopping on one of the chairs across the shop counter.

"better than pretty good, actually..."

"better than pretty good actually." you hear zayne mutter beneath his breath as he walked past you, now making a beeline for the stairs at the back. whether he was mocking or teasing you, you didn't know. you couldn't make a judgement for now with insufficient knowledge of how zayne is. but his eyes earlier held a teasing spark, you try to convince yourself.

you steal a glance from caleb, who was currently texting in his phone.

"honey, are you alright?" the concerned voice of mrs. xia broke through your thoughts, and you look up at her worried eyes.

"i, uh, am okay. sorry for spacing out..."

she gives you a warm, motherly smile. "oh, don't worry bub, you must still be in a little shock. how about we all go upstairs, where it's more warmer, hm?"

you nodded in reply, returning her smile.

when you reached upstairs, you watched how caleb flopped himself down the recliner to prop the seat up, before reaching into the pocket of his bottoms and proceeding to text again, seemingly at lightning speed. mrs. xia made her way over to the sofa, and so you decided to settle yourself down across from her.

"well then," the mother spoke up, her eyes holding yours. "i spoke to your mum, and... we've agreed that you should stay here until the blizzard passes." you visibly stiffened, eyes automatically glued on the floor as a sudden rush of heat coursed through you despite the weather. "the roads are in no state to be driven on, and the way how things are looking, you'll probably be safe and sound in your bed by tomorrow night."

what a relief. you released the breath you didn't realize you've been holding in. if you could just keep your way out of zayne and caleb, then everything should work out just fine. no awkward conversations, nothing alike, and no one will find out about the wrapped gift you're sitting on right now.

"thank you, mrs. xia. you're very kind, i really appreciate it,"

"oh please, it's absolutely no trouble at all!" mrs. xia waved it off nonchalantly, "your parents are an old colleague of mine, and you're an absolute angel yourself, my dear. and ever so pretty, might i say."

you blushed, cheeks going warm, "thank you, mrs. xia, you really are too kind."

"now what's the time, i wonder?" she mused brightly, sauntering towards the kitchen side of the room.

"three o'clock." caleb suddenly voiced out from his position on the recliner, his eyes flicking to you, but quickly averting his gaze back to his phone when he caught your eye.

mrs. xia wiped her hands on her trousers, before leaning against the breakfast bar. "right, well dinner should be ready in about an hour, but first i think we should discuss [name]'s sleeping arrangements," she announced, her voice sounding like she was talking to herself more than anything.

"she can sleep in my room," caleb blurted suddenly, looking slightly bashful despite his easygoing nature. "i can sleep in'ere, on the sofa, i don't mind."

oh my gosh.

caleb just offered me his room! which means... i'll get to sleep in his room, i'll get to see his room, i'll be lying down on his bed in his room.

fate just keeps on surprising you today, huh?

caleb's room was near exactly what you had imagined.

dark green walls complimented a neutral soft carpet, with plain wooden furniture balancing out everything so nicely. there were a few posters on the wall, of various basketball players and teams, along with the odd photograph or two of caleb with his family and friends. there were a few golden medals, their ribbons strung around some old nails lined up in a row against the wall.

you've always known, that caleb is a natural-born athlete.

glancing down at the present that rested snugly in your palm, you sighed, placing it carefully onto the desk beside you. so much drama, all over one tiny little gift.

suddenly, a gentle knock on the door sounded, startling you. your head snapped towards the door, but it remained silent and still for like 10 seconds. narrowing your eyes at it, you turn your gaze away.

were you starting to hear things?

"hey, new tenant?" the muffled voice of caleb sounded through the door, and you instinctively widened your eyes. also, what kind of nickname was that? "can i come in, please?"

"um, yep!" you shouted back in a squeaky, high-pitched voice. quickly, you lunged for the present which was sitting on caleb's desk, concealing it in the first place you could find—which was behind the desk. it was a bit of a tight squeeze lodging it there, but miraculously, you managed to squeeze it in before the door creaked open with a groan.

caleb's head popped around the door, his face visibly relaxing once he caught sight of your figure. then, he steps in, a little hesitant, holding something in his hand. he held up the item, and it appears to be some sort of clothing. "mum told me to give you this, since you don't have pajamas."

"oh, thank you..." you replied, trying a soft smile. slowly, you accept the clothing from his hands, and you could feel the way your fingers brushed for a split-second. it made you warm.

"it's no problem. anything for a pretty girl like you." you stood in shock for a few seconds, staring wide-eyed at the boy standing right infront of you. it took a few more moments before caleb realized the nature of his words, and when he did, his ears turn red. clearing his throat, he brings up something else, "cough, need help setting up the bed?"

he was already at the edge of the bed, sleeves rolled past his forearms, the faint scent of vanilla and warm bread still clinging to him like a ghost.

you nodded before your brain could catch up. the bed creaked softly as the two of you worked in silence, tucking in corners, fluffing the pillowcases. and for a while, it felt almost so oddly domestic.

but then, as you smoothed your palm over the top sheet, his hand stilled. his eyes were on you. "uh... hold still for a sec," he murmured, stepping toward you.

you blinked, unsure. "yes?"

he didn’t answer right away. instead, he closed the distance in slow, deliberate strides. and then, without warning, his fingers reached up, calloused and careful, his thumb brushing lightly along your cheek.

"spaghetti," he muttered, almost amused. "bolognese. right here." a quiet laugh left him, soft and stunned, like he hadn’t expected it either.

instantly, you turned beet red. not just from the proximity, not just from the way caleb was so close that you could start counting his lashes from this distance, but because you've revealed a rather unpleasant side of yourself to him. the spaghetti bolognese his mother had cooked for dinner earlier satisfied your taste buds so well that you hadn't noticed it smearing on your cheek.

his thumb hovered, not quite done. then, his gaze dropped. first to your eyes. then lower... to your lips.

and for a second, just a breath, he didn't move.

but then, he blinked, stepping back. the warmth snapped away with him. "there," caleb said, though his ears were tinged pink again. "you’re good."

he turned back to the bed, adjusting the edge of the blanket like it suddenly needed fixing. like he hadn’t just looked at you like that.

you stayed still after he stepped back, eyes trained on the bed like it might offer some kind of guidance. your cheek still tingled a little where his thumb had brushed, and you could feel the heat lingering there.

he cleared his throat. "sorry, by the way. i didn’t mean to, like, get in your space.”

you shook your head quickly, looking up at him. “no, it’s okay. i didn’t notice it was there.”

he let out a short breath. “guess that’s what happens when you really go in on pasta, huh.”

you laughed under your breath, a little embarrassed. “it was good, okay? i wasn’t thinking about my face.”

“really?” he says in a sing-song voice, "next time y'should try my cooking."

you both stood there for a second, the quiet kind of hovering. caleb shifted his weight onto one foot, rubbing his hand along the back of his neck.

“well,” he said, glancing at the bed, “this should be fine for you, i think. the heater’s already on so you won’t freeze.”

“looks good,” you said. “thank you.”

his eyes flicked toward the pajamas still folded in your arms. “those might be a little big, just saying.” ugh, when will he leave so i can release this jittery feeling i've been holding back ever since he came in here? i already want to roll around the bed and squeal!

“i’ll survive.” you manage.

he nodded. his hand hovered near the doorknob, but he didn’t open it just yet. “alright. i’ll, uh, leave you alone now. let you get settled.”

“mhm, okay.”

“cool. night.”

“night.”

and then he was gone. the door clicked shut, the sound quiet against the hush of the snowstorm outside. you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, then looked down at the pajamas in your hands.

and then you flopped. face-first onto the bed. a full-body, limbs-splayed-out, dramatic flop. a squeal escaped before you could stop it, muffled by the sheets.

"what just happened," you whispered into the blanket, voice high and panicked in the most ridiculous way. "what just happened."

you kicked your feet a little. rolled onto your back. then onto your side. then back again.

you had talked to caleb. you had brushed hands. he wiped food off your face. he looked at you. and he called you pretty. like, casually! like it was nothing. like your heart wasn’t going to launch itself out of your chest.

you groaned, throwing a pillow over your face. this was not how you expected your evening to go when you walked across their bakery holding the gift.

and now you were in his room, with a blizzard locking you in for the night. "i’m gonna die," you muttered to the ceiling.

but you were smiling. so much it kind of hurt.

3 hours.

you laid there, flat on your back, eyes dry from staring too long at the same stupid spot on the ceiling. the room had long gone quiet, no more creaking footsteps outside, no muffled laughter from mrs. xia and her husband. even your phone screen was starting to burn your retinas, the endless doomscrolling doing absolutely nothing to help.

you sighed and flipped to your side again for what had to be the hundredth time.

the blanket was warm. the pillows were soft. the bed even smelled like vanilla and something familiar and safe. but none of it mattered. because one very important thing was missing.

your plushie.

your stupid, irreplaceable, well-loved plushie that you had dragged around since you were ten. the one with the slightly lopsided button eye and the torn little ear you never quite got around to sewing back on. the one thing that could ever get your body to relax enough to actually sleep.

you groaned, shoving your face into the pillow. how were you supposed to survive the night without it? your arms felt weird. your chest felt cold. everything just felt… off.

you opened your eyes, staring blankly into the dark. there was no way you were going to sleep tonight. not unless you found a way to hug something.

maybe you could steal a pillow from the hallway?

…or, god forbid—ask caleb if he had a spare?

nope. absolutely not. you would rather freeze. you rolled onto your back again, sighing deeply. “this is so dumb,” you whispered to the ceiling.

it didn't take you long enough before you find yourself standing, your toes barely making a sound against the carpet while you crept out of the room, pajamas just a bit too long, sleeves brushing past your fingers. the hallway was dim, lit only by the soft blue glow spilling in from the living room.

you told yourself it was just for water. just something to sip so you could trick your body into thinking it was okay to rest. nothing more.

but just as you turned the corner, there he was.

caleb. curled up sideways on the sofa, legs hanging off the armrest like he’d melted into it, his phone casting a cool glow across his face. he looked cozy. a little sleepy, but still very much awake.

and he saw you immediately. your eyes locked like it was choreographed.

you froze.

so did he.

for a second, neither of you said a word, just two stunned statues in the quiet of midnight. “…can’t sleep?” he finally asked, voice husky and rough with tiredness, but not unfriendly.

you blinked. your fingers gripped the hem of the oversized top. “not really,” you admitted. “uh. was gonna get some water.”

he sat up slowly, the phone slipping onto his chest. “kitchen’s free.”

you nodded, but didn’t move yet. then he tilted his head, eyes scanning your face like he already knew something was up. “you okay?”

you hesitated. should you lie? brush it off? make some excuse? or maybe, just maybe, you could admit the truth. the ridiculous, embarrassing truth. your lips parted, unsure. “…okay, yeah, i can't sleep. not without my pillow.” your plushie, actually.

his mouth quirked, but not in a mocking way. “really?”

“yeah. laugh all you want.”

“i’m not laughing.” he stretched his arms over his head, then let them fall onto his lap with a sigh. “kinda cute, honestly.”

your face warmed. “don’t call it that.”

“but it is.”

you clicked your tongue and started walking toward the kitchen just to escape the way his gaze felt on you. “i’m just gonna get that water now, thanks.”

you heard him chuckle as you stood by the sink, cold glass in hand, the sound of water trickling in almost louder than your heartbeat. everything felt surreal. you used to just watch him from the far end of classrooms, pretending not to look. used to catch glimpses of him laughing with his friends and wonder what it would be like to be that close.

and now? now you were here. in his house. talking to him. because of a stupid snowstorm.

you tightened your grip on the glass, grounding yourself. you took a quiet sip, trying to calm the storm inside for once.

then you felt a shift beside you. a soft presence. the quiet scrape of socked feet on tile.

caleb, leaning casually against the counter, arms crossed, the glow from the overhead light catching in the warm violet of his eyes. “the rest are already fast asleep,” he murmured, voice low like he didn’t want to disturb the quiet.

you glanced up at him. and god. why did he have to look that good under sleepy kitchen lighting?

he wasn’t even doing anything, just standing there in sweatpants and that loose black shirt, like he’d stepped out of a dream you forgot you were having.

your eyes lingered a second too long, before he noticed. his brow arched slightly, amused.

you quickly looked away, down at your glass like it suddenly held the secrets of the universe. “right. yeah,” you said, voice tight and awkward. you looked down at the rim of your glass, fingers tracing along the condensation, anything to keep from meeting his eyes again.

then, quietly, almost sheepishly, you asked, “do you feel okay sleeping on the sofa? sorry for having to take your bed away…” your voice barely carried over the hum of the fridge.

for a moment, caleb didn’t respond. you glanced up, and he was already looking at you. that same soft, unreadable expression on his face. then he shrugged a shoulder, lips tugging into a small smile.

“it’s not a big deal.”

“still. you didn’t have to.”

he scoffed gently, amused. “what, should i let you sleep on the couch while it’s practically snowing knives out there? nah. not happening.”

you bit the inside of your cheek, trying not to smile too obviously.

he leaned his elbow on the counter, his body angled toward you now, casual, but his gaze still settled on your features like you were something he couldn’t quite figure out. “besides,” he added, quieter this time, “if it means you’re here… i think i’m okay with it.”

your heart stuttered. you blinked. “...what?”

he looked down, like he couldn’t believe he said that either, brushing a hand through his hair. “i mean, like, i don’t mind. i like... talking to you. and stuff.” his voice was flustered now, the same one you heard when he complimented you earlier, and you knew that your face was fully red again.

you set the glass down carefully, pulse loud in your ears. “i… like talking to you too,” you mumbled, so quietly it was barely audible.

but he heard it. and he smiled again, looking away, like really tilting his head away from your direction. “aaalright,” he sings, stepping back from the counter with a stretch, “since neither of us is sleeping anytime soon… wanna play something?”

you raised a brow, a little wary. “play what?”

he shot you a look like you’d just challenged him. “cards. i’ve got a deck in the drawer. loser has to pick truth or dare.”

“truth or dare? seriously?”

“hey,” caleb said, already moving toward the living room, that smug little smirk growing, “don’t act like you’re not curious. or scared.”

you scoffed, setting your glass down and following him. “i’m not scared.”

“uh-huh,” he called over his shoulder, crouching near the TV stand to rummage through a drawer. “we’ll see how brave you are when i ask if you’ve ever had a crush on someone in this house.”

you choked a little. “that’s—”

he turned, waving the deck at you with a grin. “then don’t lose.”

and with that, caleb plopped down onto the carpet by the coffee table, legs crossed, a flicker of excitement in his eyes. the snow outside still raged on quietly, blanketing the world, but inside, the only storm was the one building between your shared glances and half-laughs.

you sat on the carpet as well, across from him, heart thudding in anticipation. “ready to lose?” he teased, shuffling the cards.

but when you actually started to play now, caleb was the first one to lose. you tried not to gloat, but your grin said it all.

he rolled his eyes with a lazy smirk, leaning back on his palms. “alright, alright. truth.”

you tapped your chin, pretending to think. but really, the question had already been burning in your chest, because this was a golden opportunity! you leaned forward slightly, voice a little too soft. “what do you think of me?” alright. yeah. it was a cheesy question, but what else can i ask?

he didn’t flinch, nor did he shy away. caleb just looked at you, straight on. “i think you’re cute.”

you malfunctioned. why is he so blunt?

he went on, calm, unbothered. “fun to talk to. smart. a little chaotic, in a good way. definitely my... type.” your brain stalled. but caleb just shrugged like he just told you the weather. “why?”

you opened your mouth, closed it again. “i—um. nothing. no reason.”

he gave you a little smirk, already reshuffling the cards. “you asked. don’t get shy now.”

you stared at him, fully malfunctioning while he just dealt the next hand like he didn’t just flip your entire world upside down in five seconds flat.

"hey, continue playin now." he called over, but caleb lost again. you had to stifle your laughter, but there was a spark of excitement inside you. it was like luck had completely turned your way tonight after all the previous events.

"seriously?" caleb squinted, leaning back and running a hand through his hair. "again?"

"looks like it,"

he sighed dramatically, as if he were going to quit the game, but then perked up. "fine, dare me."

you hesitated for a second. part of you wanted to go big, do something wild, but then you remembered just how much chaos he'd already caused. instead, you decided to play it safe. "pinch yourself," you said, trying to keep a straight face.

caleb blinked, eyes widening for a split second as he processed the request. then, he gave you a flat look. "that's it?"

"yep."

he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he looked at you with that trademark smirk. "aw, disappointing," he said, his voice dripping with playful sarcasm. "kinda expected you to..."

you blinked, your heart pounding a little faster as his gaze lingered on you. "to what?"

"nuthin', nuthin'," he said, waving it off with a small shrug. he then proceeded to pinch his own arm, and you couldn’t help but watch as he did it.

the next round, you actually lost now.

caleb's grin was wide as ever, but then, as you looked at him, you noticed something shift. for a split second, his expression faltered just for a moment, but it was enough to make you wonder what was going through his mind. it was almost like he was thinking about something different.

he cleared his throat quickly, wiping that flicker of uncertainty away, and leaned back in his chair with that same smug look. "looks like you lost. truth or dare?"

you didn’t have the energy to be annoyed. "dare," you said, hoping you'd make it through this round without too much embarrassment.

caleb’s gaze locked onto yours. there was something in his eyes now, something that made you feel a little unsteady. his usual playful teasing was still there, but now it felt sharper, like he was testing you.

after a long, deliberate pause, he finally spoke, his voice a whisper. "kiss me."

your heart stopped. time seemed to freeze for a moment, and your eyes widened as you stared at him in complete shock. did he really just say that? your mind raced, trying to catch up. there was no way he could be serious, right?

but caleb didn’t move, his gaze was still intense, waiting for your response, keeping the ball at your court.

you felt heat flood your face, your stomach flipping in a way that made you feel like you might combust. your breath caught in your throat. what do i even do? “w-what?” you stammered, trying to keep your cool.

"what?," he repeated sardonically, voice calm but with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. "it’s a dare, ain't it? nuthin' serious. unless you want it to be?"

you were frozen, the tension thick in the air. caleb’s gaze hadn’t softened, and you couldn’t help but wonder if he was messing with you. or was he actually being serious? you swallowed hard once more, trying to gather your thoughts, but your mind was a whirl of confusion, embarrassment, and... something else. something like desire.

but you couldn't back out now. not in front of him. so slowly, you crawled to him, and as you drawled closer, your heartbeat pounded in your ears, each one louder than the last. you barely even realized your hands were trembling.

as you reached him, your face inches from his, you could feel the heat from his body. caleb's eyes flickered down to your lips for a split second, and for just a moment, everything felt unbearably charged.

then, as if to break the tension, he cracked a grin and leaned back just slightly. "hey, you really don’t have to. just a dare, remember?"

you blinked, your mind still reeling. your heart was still racing. "this isn’t funny," you muttered, pulling away quickly.

caleb chuckled softly, clearly amused by the whole situation, but his eyes lingered on you for a moment longer than usual. “sorry, sorry,” he said, the teasing tone still there, "go on now."

you didn't think. you just did it.

your heart pounded as you leaned in, closing the distance, and pressing your lips against his, just a quick peck. nothing too intense. just a soft, fleeting touch.

but caleb... caleb twitched. his whole body stilled for a second, like he'd been struck dumb. his eyes widened just a fraction, and for the briefest of moments, you could have sworn there was something raw flickering in his gaze.

you pulled away quickly, your breath hitched in your throat, and you quickly tried to turn away, heart still racing. what the hell did i just do?

but then, caleb didn’t look the way you expected. he didn’t laugh, nor did he make an attempt to tease. no, his gaze was fixed on you, intense and unblinking. his lips parted slightly as he looked at you like he was waiting for something.

there was a brief silence, and then, with a shift in his tone, he asked, "am i allowed to have a follow-up dare?"

you blinked, caught off guard. "huh?"

caleb didn’t smile this time, his eyes softening just a little, as if something unspoken passed between you two. "yeah." his gaze lingered on your lips for a moment, and you could feel the weight of it, “kiss. not just a peck.”

you froze.

“come on,” he said, his voice practically dripping with that same confident teasing. but it was different now. there was a quiet longing beneath the playfulness. “just a kiss. no big deal. it’s just a dare, right?”

your mind went blank. this is not just a dare. he’s... he’s serious.

you swallowed hard, your palms starting to sweat. the room felt smaller. everything felt louder; the way his heart beat, the way your pulse raced, the sound of your breath mixing in the silence between you two.

and then, just like that, with no further hesitation, caleb closed the distance between you again, leaning in as his eyes searched yours for any sign of hesitation.

you didn’t stop him. the kiss was different this time. deeper, slower. there was no teasing now, it was just the two of you, caught in a moment that neither of you had really expected, but neither of you could seem to pull away from.

when you finally broke away, both of you were breathing heavily. caleb’s fingers curled tightly at his sides, like he was trying to restrain himself from doing something impulsive. his body was completely tense, and his eyes avoided yours for a brief moment, focusing on the space between you two.

he exhaled, the sound of his breath almost imperceptible, and then his gaze flicked back to you. his voice was quieter now, a little more controlled, as he whispered, “you should go and sleep now, gettin kinda late..”

"yeah… good night,” you whispered back, pulling away and standing up to settle back into his bedroom down the hallway.

before you could even take that step away, caleb was already on his feet. his hand caught your wrist swiftly, and then his other hand found the side of your face. there was no pause, no breath between. he instantly kissed you. "mmn—"

your eyes fluttered shut, body frozen in shock before melting into the sudden heat of it all. his lips pressed against yours like he was trying to make up for every second he didn’t. like he didn’t want to stop. and he didn’t.

instead, he broke the kiss only for a heartbeat, his forehead resting against yours, breath ghosting your lips. “come with me,” he whispered, voice husky.

you barely nodded, barely processed it, before he was gently tugging your hand, leading you back toward his bedroom in silence. it was sudden. so fast you didn’t even get to question it. the moonlight through the windows washed softly over the both of you as you stepped in.

the moment the door clicked shut behind, the world seemed to fall away. caleb’s lips were back on yours before you could even think to process what was happening, his hands gripping your waist, pulling you closer.

he kissed you with a hunger that took you by surprise, each kiss deeper, more urgent than the last, as if he couldn’t get enough of you. his hands roamed to your back, to your hips, to your waist, tugging you toward him until there was no space left between your bodies.

the kiss wasn’t soft anymore, it was messy, passionate, as if he was trying to savor every second, devour every inch of you. your mind was a whirlwind, overwhelmed with sensations, but your body responded before you could even stop it, your hands coming up to grip his shirt, pulling him closer, if that was even possible.

his fingers tangled in your hair, tilting your head back to deepen the kiss even more, and for a moment, you forgot everything else. the snowstorm outside, the awkwardness, the game, everything was gone.

caleb’s lips trailed from your mouth, leaving a trail of warmth as they moved down to your neck. the sensation of his kiss against your skin made your breath hitch, and a soft, involuntary whimper escaped you.

his lips paused just below your ear, and he pulled back slightly, his breath warm against your neck. "shhh," he whispered, his voice low and almost possessive. "wouldn't want them to hear you now, do you?"

without breaking the gaze, he pushes you onto the bed, his body following as he hovered over you. his hands framed your face, as if making sure you had nowhere to look but him.

he watched you carefully, breath a little heavier now, the weight of the moment pressing down on both of you. your face was flushed, lips slightly parted, and for a second, he just studied you, making sure he didn’t move too quickly.

“tell me if you wanna stop,” caleb murmured, his voice softer than before, but still full of that same heat. he leaned down, brushing his nose against yours, a quiet gesture of reassurance amidst the tension. “i won’t push you, okay?”

"it's okay, keep going.."

caleb's eyes narrowed with desire as he heard your breathless consent. a slow, small smile spread across his handsome face, his dimples flashing in the moonlight. "mkay," he murmured, his voice a low, husky rumble that sent shivers down your spine.

he leaned down, lips brushing against the sensitive skin of your neck once more. you gasped as he began to trail kisses along your jawline, his mouth hot and insistent against your flesh. his teeth grazed your skin, nipping and biting gently as he made his way down to your collarbone.

your fingers tangled in his hair, gripping the soft locks as you arched your back slightly, giving him better access to your neck. a soft moan escaped your lips as he suckled on your pulse point, no doubt leaving a mark of his possession.

you couldn't believe it, from a snowstorm to a make out session with your crush. you couldn't believe it. but you wanted to keep on going, despite your lack of experience.

caleb's hands roamed your curves, his fingers splaying across your ribcage before sliding down to your hips. he hooked his fingers in the waistband of your bottoms, tugging on them slightly as he continued his sensual assault on your neck and chest.

while he kissed lower, his tongue flicked out to taste the soft swell of your breasts, his teeth catching on the lace of your bra. he looked up at you, eyes filled with a hunger that made your core throb with need. without breaking eye contact, he reached behind you and unhooked your bra with deft fingers, tossing it aside carelessly.

your breasts spilled free, and caleb's mouth was on them in an instant. he laved his tongue over one hardened nipple before drawing it into his mouth, suckling greedily. his other hand came up to knead the soft mound of your breast, his fingers sinking into the pliant flesh.

he's doing it all so quickly and effortlessly like he'd been practicing.

then, he worked his way down your body, kissing and nipping at the soft skin of your stomach, his tongue dipping into your belly button. he paused when he reached the waistband of your shackles, looking up at you with a teasing grin.

"lift your hips for me," he commanded, and you complied, lifting your hips off the bed as he tugged your undergarments and slid them off your ankles.

he paused for a moment, taking in the sight of you laid out bare before him, his eyes roaming hungrily over your naked form.

"shit, you're gorgeous," he breathed, his voice filled with awe and desire. his hand came down to rest on your inner thigh, his thumb brushing maddeningly close to your aching core.

unable to resist any longer, caleb leaned in and pressed a hot, open-mouthed kiss to your thigh, his tongue darting out to taste your skin. he worked his way further slowly, your breath hitching and your back arching off the bed as he drew closer and closer to your dripping center.

without warning, he pressed a kiss directly to your clit, making you cry out in surprise and pleasure. "caleb—" his tongue circled the sensitive bundle of nerves before he drew it into his mouth, suckling hard. your hands flew to his hair, gripping the strands tightly as your hips bucked up against his face.

while he licked and suckled your clit, caleb's hand came up to tease your entrance. "you're wet," he ran a finger along your slit, feeling the slick heat of your arousal coating his digit. unable to hold back any longer, he says, "i'm gunna put it in, okay?" he pushes a finger inside your tight channel, grunting against your clit as he felt your walls clench around the intrusion.

he began to pump his finger in and out, his pace slow and steady. at the same time, caleb pulls away to bring his other hand down to his own aching cock, wrapping his fingers around the thick shaft. he grunted as he began to stroke himself simultaneously with the thrusts of his finger.

"can you look at me?" he moaned, staring down at you with a feverish gaze, you could see the beads of sweat trickling down his collarbone. he sweats so easily. he added a second finger the moment your eyes meet, pumping them in and out of your dripping cunt faster with increasing fervor.

his thumb rubbed firm circles over your clit, the rough pad of his finger stimulating the sensitive nub with each pass. "ahh, fuck!" you gasped, your head thrashing against the pillow as the intensity of your pleasure mounted. your hips bucked and writhed beneath his touch, seeking more of the delicious friction.

"quiet," caleb hissed, but nonetheless too spurred on by your enthusiastic responses that he doubles his efforts. his hand flew over his aching cock, stroking the thick shaft with fast, tight pumps. the lewd sound of squelching noises filled the room as he jerked himself off, growing louder and more urgent with each passing second. beads of pre-cum leaked from the swollen head, dripping down to coat his pumping fist.

"oh god, caleb..." you cried out again, your voice breaking as he brought you closer and closer to the edge. your inner walls fluttered and clenched around his pistoning fingers, gripping them like a vice.

acting quickly, he brought his free hand up to cover your mouth, "you're gunna wake the house up," his palm muffling any sound that threatened to escape from you, then simultaneously, he slams his throbbing cock deep into your spasming pussy with one powerful thrust.

"mmph!" your scream of ecstasy was reduced to a strangled moan against his hand as caleb's thick shaft stretched and filled you in an instant, reaching depths you'd never felt before. your slick walls, still fluttering from your climax, clenched down around him like a hot, velvety vise.

"fuck!" caleb hissed through gritted teeth despite himself, his eyes squeezing shut at the sudden, exquisite sensations of your tight, dripping cunt gripping his cock. he stilled for a moment, allowing you both to adjust to the intense sensation of being so utterly filled and connected.

his hips pressed firmly against yours, the coarse hair at the base of his shaft tickling your sensitive skin. his chest heaved against your own as he struggled to maintain control, his heart pounding wildly in his chest.

"jesus christ you're tight," caleb breathed, his lips brushing against your ear. "we don't wanna alert the whole house to what we're doing. so..." caleb began to move, "keep quiet, alright?"

yeah, you're totally gonna keep quiet about how three days before christmas your plan of giving your crush an anonymous gift during a snowstorm led you to having sex with him in his bedroom. absolutely. you're going to keep quiet about how you used to just observe caleb playing basketball from the bleachers and now you're watching him tease his dick into your hole. those irises that only used to meet your gaze in hallways, now eyed you down while he rubbed his tip against your womb.

"mmh...!" you continued whining. how couldn't you? he stretched you out so perfectly, and he looks so hot doing it.

"i told you to keep quiet, right?" caleb pressed his hand on your lips even more harder. "right?"

yeah, you're gonna keep quiet about this.

[redhoodsdeer]

on wheels (tired!reader x mechanic jason)

civil!reader x jason todd

prompt: where the reader's car decides to mess it up on the worst day possible, fortunately the mechanic jason was quite willing to help.

a/n: i finally posted again, and tbh, i didn't really like this one, but i have a thing for mechanic jason that just can't be put into words, i hope you guys love this as much as i love mechanic jason.

It was 10pm on what seemed like the most stressful day of your entire life, everything you wanted was to get home and take a shower long enough for your neighbors to think you were dead, but since this was definitely the worst day of the year, of course you couldn't, and of course your car broke down on a dark Gotham street at 10pm.

Every little thing that could go wrong today, did. Your ran out of coffee and you were way too late to stop by a coffee shop, your work clothes that you were supposed to pick up at the dry cleaners yesterday? still stuck there, your important meeting with your boss? the biggest disaster of your whole career.

All you wanted to do was curl up in an fetal position and cry on the floor until this day became a really distant memory, but instead, you were calling the tow truck at 10pm on a terribly suspicious street in Gotham.

After what seemed like hours of no one answering your calls, you finally got an answer and arrived at the garage, which seemed to be the only 24-hour garage in town, and you were infinitely grateful for that.

Okay, now, you were expecting a mechanic twice your father's age, on a dirty white tank top and a beer belly, you didn't expect that at ten o'clock at night on the day that seemed endless, you would come face to face with a greek god who had escaped from Olympus.

Biceps so big they could break you in two (and you kinda wished they did), the most angelic face you've ever seen, not to mention the white streak in his hair, because of course your mechanic had to be absolutely divine, on the day you were absolutely mundane, your tight skirt stained with coffee (which wasn't even yours!), your face as tired as a construction worker's on the end of the day, and your makeup had abandoned you three disasters ago.

"Ma'am, so what's the deal with the big guy here?" he asks, his voice so deep you thought you might melt. Your voice barely came out, your eyes struggling to stay on the car between you two.

"I don't know, I was on my way home when it broke down, I have no idea what happened, my dad was the one who used to take my car to the mechanic."

And of course the perfect day for you to get used to going to the mechanic by yourself was the same day you tripped in a mud puddle on your way to work and had to walk three blocks back just to take a shower.

He stares at you like you're from another world, before shaking his head and lifting the hood of the car, looking for whatever was wrong with your car.

Your eyes followed every move of his methodically, as if, if you looked away he would disappear and be replaced by a regular mechanic with a beer belly and a bad attitude.

And when he took his grease-stained hands off the hood of the car and turned his blue-gray eyes to you, you felt like you might faint.

"Lucky for you, it's nothing really bad, you've just been a while without an oil change and it's easy to fix." The raspy voice echoes through the shop and you feel your heart beat faster as you slowly nod your head to show that you understood.

"And how much will this cost?" Your voice asks, politely, already searching through your bag for your wallet, which was a bright pink, because you simply felt like everything around you was black, white and gray, and you wanted to have something colorful to remind you of the existence of colors.

As he walked around the workshop, just before he put his grease-stained hands on the hood to open it and change the oil, he gave a little laugh that could have been mistaken for a smirk, and coming from that man, you felt like you needed to lean on something to keep your composure, more specifically, him.

He finished and closed the hood of your car, wiping his hands on a cloth that was lying on a shelf, it might have just been because it was him doing it, but every movement he made sent a wave of heat over you, because everything looked so fucking hot.

But before you could even find your card inside the colorful wallet, a smirk appeared on the man's face, who was now leaning against the side of your car, looking as attractive as humanly possible.

"Chill, it's just some oil change, it's already 11pm on a Tuesday night, you look exhausted, it's on the house, maybe that way you'll become a regular customer" His voice teases and you swear you just felt your heart entangle with your lungs.

There was no way this divinity in human form was flirting with you, of all people, you, at your worst, you were sure your hair that you had delicately styled the night before had given up a long time ago, and you swore you looked as much of a disaster as you could.

But still, there he was, openly flirting with you. "In the face of such an irresistible proposal, maybe my car will break down more often around here, who knows, maybe I'll forget to change the oil again." You shrug, putting your wallet back at your purse and tucking a strand of hair behind your ear as you smiled at him.

A chuckle escaped his lips as he tossed your car keys back to you. “Maybe you should get my number in case you need help and you’re too far from the shop.” He shrugged, just before writing his number on a worn-sided post-it note that was stuck to the counter and handing it to you.

Your hands touched for least than half a second, and as cheesy as it may sound, you swear you felt an electric wave run through your body the moment your hands touched.

And right there, on the scribbled paper, was 'Jason' written in a sloppy handwriting that made you smile to yourself as you read it.

"Jason, huh?" You ask, looking up from the small note. He just shrugs, a silly smile on his face.

"You'll have to call to find out."

As you drove out of the garage, driving your now, not-quite-broken car, with a smile so big they might think you were leaving a casino after winning a jackpot, finally get to you that this interaction had actually happened, and that the neatly folded post-it note inside your pink wallet really had the number of the hottest guy you had ever seen.

And now, you were hopefuly waiting for your car to break down, willing to even crash into a tree if it would make him appear faster.

It turns out, in the end, your day wasn't so bad after all.

[tokeposts]

𝚠𝚊𝚝𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚘𝚛 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢𝚎𝚛?

pairing: bakugou katsuki x gn!reader

warnings: NERVE AU, cussing, anonymous online peer pressure, exploitation, mentions of death/violence/theft (like one sentence),

943 | in a world where the online game nerve rules, your watchers see some kind of chemistry between you and rising player, bakugou katsuki.

The city pulses around you, neon lights reflecting off wet pavement as the night buzzes with energy. It seemed that the longer you played the more aware you become. The man making a scene at the gas station, a girl that got caught stealing a $3000 dress at the boutique, the guy that died from bungee jumping.

All of them were players in this twisted game.

And tonight? You’re one of them. That is how you find yourself entering a random dinner in the city. The watchers had taken a liking to this place for whatever reason and you weren't going to pass up an easy $100.

The same time the dinner door chimes with your entrance, your phone buzzes. Your URL, a randomly generated name, lights up in blue on your phone. The words DARE COMPLETE right next to it. A sigh you didn't know you were holding escapes you.

You don’t know what made you press join. Maybe it was boredom. Maybe it was the weight of expectations crushing you, perhaps the thrill? The need to be someone other than the girl who always plays it safe. Or maybe... your phone lights up again a notification from your bank saying the $100 was successfully transfered to your account.

You smile. A new dare pops up on your screen.

[ KISS A STRANGER FOR 10 SECONDS • $130 ]

A small scoff leaves your lips, "that's the best you got?"

Before you can tap accept your phone buzzes again a new dare replacing the old one.

[ KISS THE BLONDE ONE FOR 10 SECONDS • $300 ]

Your eyes searching the crowd of the surprisingly packed dinner. "How very specific of you, watchers."

As if on cue, the crowd shifts, and there he is. His blonde hair peaks past the book he's reading, The Scarlet Letter, and even with the cover hiding most of his face you know it's him. The book makes you laugh, makes you want to say something to him but you know better than that. This game takes everything you love and twists the life. It's no coincidence the man they want you to kiss is reading your favorite book.

"Hey." He flips the book down, laying it flat on the table. Red eyes meet your own and you recognize them instantly. His glare sends a shiver down your spine. Bakugou Katsuki, better known as BKG_001, sitting idly in a booth.

He scoffs. "You again?"

Neon spills across his sharp features, and even through the chaos of the game, he looks exactly the same. It's like he owns whatever space he’s in, like the world bends around him instead of the other way around.

Your grip tightens around your phone. You can feel the ghost of a headache behind your eyes. Of course he’s playing. Bakugou is the definition of reckless. If anyone would throw themselves into a game, it’s him. Casualties are thrown out window. You slide into his booth, far too close to him, but he doesn't flinch. He never does.

He leans in over the table, gaze flicking down to your screen. Then he snorts. “Figures.”

You raise a brow. “What?”

His phone screen is tilted just enough for you to see the same dare staring back at you.

“You got the same one,” you mutter.

"Seems like they like us." His smirk is infuriating. “What? You scared?”

It’s bait, and you know it. You should walk away, find someone else, pick an easier route. But that’s not how this works. Your phone buzzes again as a warning: 1 MINUTE REMAINS. If you back down now, the watchers will eat you alive, but even worse, you’d never hear the end of it from him.

So you square your shoulders and meet his gaze. “Fine.”

His grin sharpens. “Fine.”

You glance down at your screen, making sure you're in frame, the watchers flood the chat.

DO IT. DO IT. DO IT.

You barely have time to register their comments before his hand catches your waist, pulling you in. The heat of him is immediate. His scent takes over you— smoke and woodsy. It feels up your lungs, wraps around your spine, and devours your thoughts.

His lips crash against yours.

At first it is all teeth. His mouth fighting against yours for dominance. Bruising lips and shaky breathes. It is rough, hungry, like he’s trying to prove something. Like he knows exactly what this is doing to you.

Your lungs beg for air but he is too intoxicating. Too good to ride yourself of this kind of bliss.

You expected a half-ass kiss. Something quick, for him to treat it like a dare, nothing more, but Bakugou got his following for being real. You should know better than anyone that he doesn't do anything halfway.

Your fingers tighten in his jacket, and his grip on your waist slides lower, dragging fire down your spine as his hands brush the hem of your pants.

Seconds stretch long. Five, four, three— It feels like you are being burned alive. Two, one.

When you finally pull away, your heart is hammering, and Bakugou’s eyes are dark, narrowed and unreadable. There is something there. Something that needs to be addressed in the little space of your labored breaths and unbroken eye contact, but before you can say anything, before you can even catch your breath, another notification pops up.

[ FOLLOW HIM OUT • $500 ]

Your stomach drops.

Bakugou glances at his screen, then at you. Then he grins. It's all teeth and pride.

"Looks like we’re stuck together.”

And just like that, the game has only just begun.

[maybejj]

what are your headcanons for theo as he gets older? what is he like as a teenager or young adult? or even a young kid (like 6-10)?

i love this question!! this lowkey healed my writers blocked i’m ngl. this also turned out longer than i expected so enjoy! 🫶🏻

theo throughout the years.ᐟ

ᯓ★ theo as a toddler is very shy and quiet. if he’s uncomfortable, he will hid behind his mom or dad’s legs. however, he is wild as a buck around the pogues (jj instigates this behavior) since he’s known them his whole life. pope is lowkey his favorite for sure but theo would never say because he doesn’t want to hurt jj’s feelings although sarah is a close second. he observes everything. he’s always watching every interaction. he’s a very curious baby and has so many questions. he gets scared real easy and is a total mamas boy down to his core. he’s tiny but he’s mighty so don’t mess with his mama. he’s obsessed with superman and legos! loves to build anything and everything his little mind comes up with. for valentine’s day, pope helped him build one of the flower lego sets to give to reader. she proudly displays it as the centerpiece on the kitchen table.

ᯓ★ theo as a young kid is still quite shy. it doesn’t take him as long to open up to people anymore but he’s definitely still cautious. he loves being outside and riding around on his bicycle rafe bought him. he’s starting to enjoy the ocean more and more at this age (wasn’t a big fan of water for awhile) so jj really hops on the opportunity to teach him how to surf. theo ends up loving it! he kinda has a temper in this stage of his life. he gets frustrated easily, has tantrums out of nowhere. he gets overwhelmed easier and will hit the side of his head when his environment becomes too much. rafe and reader work with him on this but it takes time. he loves going to his dads office and looking out the window-it’s very high up so he pretends he’s flying above the city like superman.

ᯓ★ theo as a teenager is very outgoing. once he hits puberty, he becomes very confident in himself. he’s basically rafe’s mini me in the best way possible. his sharp blue eyes are his biggest weapon. uses them to get whatever he wants and it works everytime. he becomes interested in baseball and golfing and rafe gets so excited about this. constantly taking him to the country club on the weekends. buying him all the expensive baseball bats, gloves, etc. he will only have the best of the best. he still lowkey loves superman but he doesn’t want his friends to think he’s lame so he saves his geek out sessions until pope comes over. his love for building things has only increased as he gets older so he takes a woodworking shop class at school and makes his mom all kinds of things. every holiday/birthday/special occasion, he builds her something she can use. at this point, 95% of their house is scattered with stuff he’s built his mom. his still has a slight temper but nowhere near as bad as when he was younger. still very protective of his mother, even more so now that he’s older and is more aware of everything. no one is messing with his mom.

ᯓ★ theo as a young adult is very successful. he goes to UNC and studies architecture. he just loves to build things so he decides to make a living off of it. he wants to start his own business eventually so he shadows rafe for a few months to get the basics down. he’s had a few girlfriends by now but nothing serious, he’s more focused on his career at this point. he’s a great public speaker and always leads all the group projects in college. he doesn’t play any sports in college but volunteers as a baseball coach in his free time for his hometowns little league. he also golfs on the weekends with rafe when he has time. also loves coming into town and having dinner with his parents. he loves sitting down with them and telling them what he’s learned in college and what he’s currently working on. rafe always asks if he’s seeing anyone and reader just rolls her eyes at the typical boy talk. theo always laughs when they start bickering. he’s learned how to control his anger completely by this age and thinks things through before making any decisions. eventually starts his own business after he’s got a couple of years of experience and rafe really helps him out when theo starts to doubt himself. his business doesn’t do as good as he thought in the first year so rafe dedicates a lot of his time and effort into helping his son build it back up and where he wants it to be. definitely still builds things for his mom. it just becomes second nature and he loves being able to give her things that no one else has.

[deangirlsstuff67]

Soldier Boy’s Girl

Soldier Boy x Reader

Summary: You get the version no one else gets the pleasure of knowing.

Warnings: None

Authors Note: I love Jensen and his family. This is purely fiction and for entertainment purposes only.

—————————————————————————

Six months ago your Uncle Billy recruited you to be on his team for the fight against superhero’s. Considering your past involving any of them, it made sense.

They had found the weapon that was going to take down Homelander once and for all. Your job? It was simple, babysit the volatile ticking time bomb of a supe.

Seems easy right?

Uncle Billy knew you could handle yourself easily. You weren’t actually what he would call fragile or gentle by any means. What none of them were expecting was for you to grow attached to Soldier Boy.

For you it was different, while they were the same person, you fell hard for Ben, you’re learning to love Soldier Boy. Learning to separate his two personalities made living with the man so much easier.

Yes there was some Ben in Soldier Boy.

There was definitely Soldier Boy in Ben, he usually came out when you were withering underneath your boyfriend, begging him for more. That cocky grin, the I’m the man energy, all of it comes to light in the depths of your bedroom.

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Today was a rough one for Ben. They went to herogasm and let’s just say it didn’t go as planned. Homelander showed up and a fight broke out between the two supes, innocent people got hurt in the process.

Soldier Boy comes off as a cocky, give zero fucks, rough, rude killing machine to many people. They all thought he was cold hearted and never cared when others got hurt by his hand.

To be fair he played that role well.

When the front door opened that night you instantly felt the sadness and regret rolling off your boyfriend in waves. Uncle Billy had called and told you what had happened. Preparing you for what mood Ben may come home in.

You had a glass tumbler full of his favorite whiskey locked and loaded. Ben came into view seconds later, no words were exchanged between you. You knew better than to pry, he’d come to you when he was ready.

Handing him his whiskey and kissing his cheek you simple walk to the bedroom to finish folding laundry.

Half hour later you hear the bedroom door close behind you as you continue putting clothes into the right drawers. Spinning on your heels you see Ben sitting on the edge of the bed staring at a spot on the floor.

Making room you crawl up beside him leaning against the headboard in silence. He wants to talk and you know that. Talking doesn’t come easy for Ben, growing up in a world much different than today’s day and age.

Softly he spoke, “I didn’t mean to hurt those people. I’m not a bad guy y/n.”

You make your way over to him, simply crawl into his lap, using your fingers to force him to look at you.

“I know you aren’t Ben. That was an accident.” Leaning in you capture his lips for a loving kiss. Holding him close as you rake your fingers through his hair.

You feel the stray tears falling from his eyes hit your shirt. To the world he’s a big, tough soldier, but in the comfort of your house Ben is so much more.

No one would have ever guessed he would have such a gentle side to him. You make him feel safe. You never judge him. You’re patient and loving.

Looking into your y/e/c eyes he asks you, “why do you love me doll?”

You kiss his tears away smiling at him, “because I’ve never met a man like you. You’re special Ben. The moment we met I knew I was done for. You’re filthy, moody, strong, caring, protective, and loving. You have a way of making me feel alive no matter what we are doing.” One more kiss to his sweet lips before adding, “plus you are amazing in bed.”

Winking at him as you start getting off his lap. Ben lets out a growl as he grabs you again and throws you into the pillows.

“Let’s see just how amazing I am shall we doll?”

This is why he loves you. You’re patient and kind to the man everyone deems a killer. You listen when others judge. Not to mention you can handle both the gentle and rough side of his personality.

“Come on Soldier Boy, let’s see what America’s hero can do.”

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Taglist:

@bitchykittenconnoisseur @spnaquakindgdom @jayhalsteadfan-2417 @tspmoff @nancymcl @syrma-sensei @yvonneeeee @deansimpalababy

[v-nnie]

✠ Part I.

The summoning.

Synopsis; You summon something far more ancient and dangerous than the little pest demon you wanted to use against a bully.

Pairing; Sukuna Ryomen x Reader

Content; sfw, threats, talk of violence and Christianophobia (he talks about burning down a church but it's a church of witches?), CAOS!Universe, witch!reader, curse!sukuna

Words; 2,9K

A/N; My first writing! Well not actually, but after my 'rebrand' and hiatus at least. Hope you enjoy!

The air is thick, heavy thrum of Satanic energy palpable as you chant out of your Grimoire. Candles form a circle, their flames flickering when gusts of wind whirl through the room. Sneakily summoning demons in the Spellman sisters' attic was probably not the smartest thing you've ever done, but then again, that bitch Celesta and her sisters deserved it.

The pest demon, Festeris, you were calling forth, was easily banishable, but still a literal pest to have around. She was a succuba, one of the stronger lust demons. Indeed easy to banish, but hard to want her banished.

Singing in Latin, you feel the energy spike; the gates of Hell were opened. "By the power of the Dark Lord, I command the Pitts of Hell to open. Festeris, I call forth, hear me and answer!" Your hair sways in the wind, and you place your Grimoire aside. "Abyssus inferni, aperite viam, Succuna, qui sub terris latet. Venit ad nos, ferox et potens, ut potestas inferni in lucem venit."

The shadows twist. The black candles sputter, before guttering out completely. Darkness. "Unholy mother," you curse; something went wrong. Definitely wrong.

The mirror in the corner splinters with a loud crack, and the floor trembles as the darkness gathers in your circle. The offering plate, its grooves red with blood from old sacrifices, rumbles under your feet. A presence, ominous and furious, far darker than the lowly pest demon you meant to summon. More ancient, more malevolent than anything you've encountered in your time at the Academy of Unseen Arts.

Two- no four red eyes glowing down at you from the other end of the room, towering high above you. The wind gusts, candles aflame again, and you gasp. A figure rises before you, tall, dark and wrong in all the ways holy and unholy. It's two sets of crimson eyes meet yours, both amused and annoyed, lips curled in disdain. Black markings spread over his skin like branding, two sets of big, beefy arms crossing in front of a broad chest.

His presence burns in a way you're not familiar with, and your breath is stuck in your throat. He tilts his head, slowly, before speaking in a baritone that makes you want to hide and crawl away, or lean into it and drown. "Who dares awaken me from my slumber?"

Voice low and cruel, echoing off the stone walls, mouth showing a sharp set of canines as he speaks. He takes a step forward, the edges of his figure brimming with energy from the deepest depths of the Pitt, as if he is one with it. You can't move, can barely breathe, as he stands before you in all his unholy glory.

"A witch?", he sneers, leaning down slightly, as if to get a better look. "No. A child. Clever little lamb, summoning beings she doesn't understand." His second mouth — the one etched into his stomach — curls into a jagged grin.

"Shit," you curse, as soon as you break out of your stupor, reaching for your Grimoire. With a dagger in your hand — obsidian, blessed by the High Priest — you flip the pages, landing on the strongest banishing spell for demons you have.

He doesn't flinch. Instead, he watches you, all four of his eyes locked on your every movement, like a cat watching a bird flap its wings just a little too late. That jagged grin widens.

You draw a ritual circle, with the ashes of an offering, fingers moving with practiced speed. Dagger to your palm, you whisper the chant, rushed but precise, and let your blood seal the banishment.

"In nomine Satanas, et in nomine inferni, ego te abicimus. Abyssus inferni, aperi viam ad tuam domum!" Blood drips into ashes, the sigil colouring red as you speak up. "I command the demon, standing in my circle! Return to the Pits!"

This should work.

This always works.

The chant cuts through the air, strong and sharp, each word burning like purging fire. A wind kicks up, sweeping through the room, broken mirror glass rattling as it passes. Light bursts from the sigil, and then-

Nothing.

The glow sputters and dies like a match in water.

Your heart drops.

The ritual didn’t fail.

It was rejected.

He steps over the circle, through it, like your magic wasn't even there. The air ripples in his wake, warping the edges of reality. "You didn't summon a demon girl. You called a Curse." He leans down slightly, eyes boring into yours. His voice feels like velvet-wrapped razors, scratching at your skin.

His mouth — the lower one — opens just slightly. You swear you see rows of teeth that shouldn’t exist. "Try your parlour tricks again, and I’ll burn the church to cinders while you watch."

He pauses. Squints. "...Interesting." A low hum rumbles his chest. With a clawed black nail, he traces a symbol midair. One that you recognise. The same mark you have, etched into your skin, a reminder of your loyalties and a proud remnant of your Dark Baptism.

"How do you know that symbol?", you ask sharply, temporarily forgetting your fears. And why did he draw that? That mark - it's sacred. A promise between a witch and the Dark Lord only, like a personal code only between servant and master.

At your words, fierce and demanding, he tilts his head again, eyes narrowing. "How do I know this symbol?" he echoes, voice low. "Because I wore others like it on my skin long before your Dark Lord ever existed."

Silence.

"Because I remember the Old Tongue, the real magic, not the watered down theatre your High Priest teaches you." His eyes flick to your hand, to the blood — hungry — but he makes no move to cross the line. Yet.

"Your little Lucifer is a child paying with stolen fire." You try not to lash out, fear keeping you in check. But the heat in your chest twists. No one speaks about the Dark Lord like that - not without losing their soul.

"And you," he says, stepping closer to you, too close, "spoke my name. One no witch should know.” Instinctively, you created a salt circle, enhancing it with your bloodied hand, heart thundering in your chest, making you physically untouchable. For now, at least. He just watches silently, letting you create this fake sense of safety.

"You're a Forgotten One." It wasn't a question. He circles the outer edge of the blood-drawn barrier, slow and deliberate, a lion at the bars of a cage that exists more out of politeness than actual limitation. His presence thrums against your wards like pressure building under skin.

"That's what they called us, isn't it?", he says, "When your Church of Night swept in with robes and rituals and rules—burning our names from the stones, burying our temples beneath yours." He leans closer, and the flames of your candles flare, reacting to his proximity.

"But you, little witch, with your clever hands and thirst for vengeance, just opened the door." Eyes flash. "Accident? Or instinct?" Your hand aches from the open wound, blood dripping slow and steady now. The circle’s still strong — but not forever. And he knows it. He’s not in a rush.

He leans forward again, so close now that you can feel the heat radiating off him - but the boundary holds firm. "And now here I am. You called me forth. The question is… what will you do with me?"

"You tricked me", you hiss. How dare he come when he knows it wasn't him you were calling? "Demon or Curse, you sure behave the same. What I'll do with you? Banish you, of course." Sukuna’s eyes flash, the crimson glow burning brighter for a moment as if your words were a spark to his fury.

He tilts his head to one side, his expression shifting from irritation to something far more dangerous. "Tricked you?" He almost sounds amused. "Ah. So you’ve been tricked, have you? Poor little witch. So clever, and yet so naive." His voice drops, but it’s colder now — the words tasting like venom.

"I didn’t trick you. You think you can banish me? With what? A few broken words and a knife’s blood?" He takes a slow, deliberate step toward your barrier, and this time, the circle trembles under the weight of his presence.

"Let me make this clear: I am not a lesser demon, waiting to crawl back into some hole when you decide to wave your little rituals around. I don’t bow to your weak charms or your childish wards", snarled, enraged at the thought of even being compared to them.

He steps right up to the edge of your blood-wrought shield, his face inches from yours, and the air seems to tighten, becoming unbearably dense. "You think you can banish me? Force me back from where I came? That's cute." His second mouth opens, again, slow, twisted smile spreading across it.

"Go ahead. Try. See what happens." His teeth gleam in candlelight, sharp and predatory. The flames flicker violently, casting shadows that dance like living things.

He chuckles darkly. Your bloodied hand tightens around your dagger, knuckles white, as you stare down the cursed king before you. The air feels thick, stifling, with an energy more malevolent than your Dark Lord. How long can you hold on?

"Clutching that little knife like it will save you,” he taunts, his voice low and mocking. “You think that’s enough to defend yourself?"

The circle trembles.

His every movement reverberates through the air, like ripples in water. The barrier — your last line of defence — groans under his pressure. You can’t move it back. A second step against it, one slight misstep, and it will crack. The power he holds is undeniable. It’s not just raw strength - it’s ancient, primal.

You feel the tightness in your chest, the cold sweat slicking your skin, but you refuse to show it. "Have you realised it yet, little witch?", he coos, a strange purr. One that made your breath hitch and snaked its way around your heart, savouring every panicked thrum. "You can't banish me. You've already invited me."

Panic surges at your throat, the primal being in you responding to instinct. Flight. Your foot shifts back — just one step — and the boundaries splinter, the sigils faltering. A loud crack runs through the centre like a spider's web and it shatters completely.

You freeze, heart thundering in your chest, bloodied hand still gripping the dagger. The reality of your mistake hits harder than any spell ever could. There’s no way to escape now. No warding. No summon. No protection.

He steps forward, almost leisurely, but there’s a predatory gleam in his eyes as he crosses the broken circle. The room feels cold as he nears, the power radiating from him is suffocating. The atmosphere hums with dark energy, like the world itself is holding its breath.

"Such a delicate thing, that circle," he murmurs, his voice thick with mockery. "One little slip... and poof. Gone." He stops just in front of you. His four eyes are focused op the blood still dripping from your hand, staining your white shirt, with a dangerous curiosity. As if wondering how you'll taste.

"I know you mortals always think things will work itself out", he continues, taking another step forward, and another, until you're pressed with your back against the wall. "But really? You thought it would be that easy?"

The knife clatters to the floor, its echo sharp and sudden in the silence that follows your retreat. You flinch back, the trembling in your hand spreading through your entire body, as if the reality of Sukuna’s presence is sinking in all at once. Your wound stings — the blood slick and hot against your skin — but you can barely focus on the pain now. The feeling of vulnerability rushes in, overwhelming.

The scent of your blood fills the air, and Sukuna’s second mouth twitches, as though it’s tempted to snap at the offering. But he holds back - for now. There’s an unsettling silence, broken only by the distant rumble of the storm outside, and you're speechless. Unsure if he's thinking about how exactly he'll devour you, or when he's going to do it.

Sukuna watches you, the amusement in his eyes deepening. He’s not rushing forward. He’s toying with you, enjoying this. "You seem nervous, witch," he muses, each movement a reminder of the danger he poses.

He crouches in front of you, his four eyes locking onto yours with a chilling intensity. There’s a sick amusement in the way he looks at your trembling form — the blood dripping from your palm, the weakness in your posture. To him, you’re a toy, a curiosity.

"I suppose I should thank you, though," he adds, almost playfully. "You were the one who woke me. You were the one who freed me. I don’t forget that."

The second mouth on his stomach twitches as if in agreement, its grin widening. It's as if Sukuna's very body is a reflection of his twisted, ancient power - even his hunger has more than one face.

Your eyes fluttered shut, whispers like prayers spilling from your lips. Bathed in candlelight, your pale face shimmered—delicate, like fear moulded into flesh, just the way he wanted.

"What do you plan on doing now, little one?" He leans in closer, just inches from your face, his breath warm against your bloodied skin, like a predator intimidating its meal.

"Beg for mercy? Try to fight me... with that little bit of strength left?" But you were prey, trapped and cornered - and never to be understimated. Your bloodied hand had steadily been bleeding into the grooves of the altar.

You meet Sukuna's gaze, and his expression flickers - a mix of confusion and realization as he watches your blood drip steadily into the grooves of the stone, slowly filling them beneath your feet. His four eyes narrow, and there’s a sharp, unexpected tension in his body. He moves as if to step back, but it's too late.

"Sanguis in sulcis, signum tuum accipe", you whisper more clearly now, repeating the same chant you were praying. "Hoc sacrificium, animum meum vincula. Nomen tuum invoco, tenebras tuae adfero."

The air in the room seems to shudder, a cold breeze whispering through the walls as the power of your chant builds. The blood, now absorbed into the stone, pulses with an otherworldly energy, the grooves lighting up faintly as they swallow your offering.

"What are you-" Sukuna's voice cuts off, his four eyes widening in recognition. He stumbles back, but not fast enough. The magic begins to solidify, swirling around you like a dark halo.

"In hoc oblatione, mens nostrae conexae erunt. Damnare me, damnare te, numquam separari," you called, with fright but unbreakable determination. The symbols in the stone glow a deep, blood-red as your chant pushes forward with a force of will that surprises even you.

"No," he growls, more a low hiss than a command. "You think you can bind me? You think your little magic-" But his voice falters, once again, as the power you’re channelling intensifies, his words fading into an almost reluctant silence. The symbols tighten, locking the ritual in place. He’s being drawn in, whether he wants to or not.

The energy around you thrums, a pulse like a heartbeat - like something ancient waking up. The very air seems to crackle with the magic of the ritual, your blood acting as the final thread that ties you to him.

Sukuna snarls, smile faltering for the first time. "You think you can control me? Bind a curse of my calibre?" Frustration grows in his tone, his voice deepening.

But you can feel it, now - a raw, unmistakable feeling- a bond. Binding him and you as one, keeping him, preventing him, from wandering on this earth as he pleased.

The magic of your blood, now intertwined with his being, is carving a new bond - a mutual connection. He can't break it. Not without hurting himself in the process. It's a gamble, and the tension in the room is thick enough to choke on.

"I'll make you regret this," Sukuna growls, but there’s something deeper, more cautious in his voice now. "Don't think for a second that I’m done with you, witch."

But you barely register his words. Once the euphoria of the ritual fades, the weight of your exhaustion presses on you all at once. Despite the overwhelming exhaustion, despite the sense of your energy being siphoned away, you know - you did it.

Sukuna is bound to you.

You feel him there, in your bones, in your mind - a presence, like a shadow lurking just beneath your skin. His power still coils, shifting like a beast too large for the cage you've created, but it's contained. For now.

He holds your gaze for one last time, his eyes linger on yours, burning with quiet fury. Then he vanishes into the shadows, swallowed by his own darkness.

As you fall to your knees, gasping for breath, you can hear his voice in the back of your mind. A dark whisper, cold and dangerous, but somehow... distant, as if he's struggling against the bond just as much as you are.

"You might have bound me, witch", his voice rumbles, an odd mix of grudging respect and simmering rage. "But don't think for a second this will be easy for you."

Your vision blurs completely, the edges of the room dissolving into shadows, the light from the candles flickering out, one by one. The power of the ritual, the connection to Sukuna, pulls at you in strange, unfamiliar ways, but even that fades as your consciousness slips further away.

And then, nothing.

To be continued....

Plagiarism not authorized.

[colonelkaboom]

LINGERING SWEETNESS

❥ First time wearing his clothes

Xavier・Zayne・Sylus・Rafayel

✎ AN: Visiting Caleb in Skyhaven as you try to rebuild the relationship you once had. This is the first time you're wearing his clothes since you were reunited, making it feel like a new experience for both of you. Reader is MC, but he calls you Pip-squeak.  Word count: 1.8 k Disclaimer: I cannot guarantee these are 100% compatible with the story and lore, I don’t have all cards and my memory only stretches so far.

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❥ Caleb: Visiting Caleb in Skyhaven still made you feel a bit uneasy. He used to be your everything. Then you were forced to spend several months relearning how to live, without him holding your hand. Having him back in your life was unbelievably amazing, but so much had happened whilst you were apart and you had to get to know eachother again. 

There were times when it felt like nothing had happened and you were still the same two people who grew up together in the Bloomshore District. As if the explosion never happened and he never became Colonel Caleb. 

There was no doubt in either of your minds when you agreed to work on your relationship, despite the fact that you both now had secrets that could not be revealed in their entirety. You had never ever kept secrets from Caleb, but now there were certain things, certain people, he couldn’t know about. 

Caleb had made you dinner and the evening had been one of the nice ones where it feels like you were never apart. You were craving something sweet and had begged Caleb to make cupcakes with you. It really didn’t take much begging, he never could say no to you. 

“Pass me the eggs, Pips?” Caleb asked, although it came out more like a demand. You did as you were told and he got to cracking them into the bowl. As he stepped away to throw away the shells you took his place and got to work with the hand mixer. 

You spend the next few minutes mixing the batter diligently whilst Caleb gets started on the clean up. The batter finally has the perfect consistency and you turn the mixer off.

“Hey Caleb, do you want to lick the whisk?” You call out, thinking he was still busy tidying up. As you turn to look for him, still holding the hand mixer, you find yourself poking the chocolate covered appliance into his hard torso. Your mouth hangs open in surprise as you stare at the large brown stain in the middle of his chest. Setting the mixer down on the counter you quickly get ready to apologize, as this was truly an accident. 

Caleb gives you no opportunity to do so as he reaches behind you dipping his finger in the batter and smearing it on your cheek. Clearly proud of himself he looks down on you with a cocky smile plastered across his face. Needing to reclaim control of the interaction you try to quickly plan your next move. You swiftly grab the hem of his shirt and lean in to lick the batter from the fabric. Hm, odd choice… You definitely should have given this some more thought. 

“Pip-squeak!” He shrieks as he tries to back away. He doesn’t get too far though and finds himself trapped between you and the island counter. His hands fly into the air as if he’s afraid to touch you. You lick away most of the batter but as you’re about to pull away you turn your cheek taking extra care to wipe his counterattack into the fabric.

A mischievous chuckle escapes your lips when you back away to admire your masterpiece. 

“Satisfied?” The playful annoyance radiates off him, making you shiver. This is definitely not over. 

“You know, now that you have made it so very clear that you’re an adult, I might not go as easy on you as I did when we were kids.” He takes a few steps forward and suddenly you are the one who is trapped against the counters. You knew that if it came down to physical strength alone, you'd surely lose. To ensure you emerge victorious from this, preying on Caleb’s weaknesses is essential. 

You quickly duck away and escape your confinement. But it doesn’t take long before he has both your wrists pinned behind your back holding you close with only one hand. The cold metal grasp makes you wince. His free hand reaches back into the batter and two fingers appear before your face dripping with sweetness.

“Ready to yield, soldier?” The firm voice of the Colonel sends shivers down your spine as you wriggle in his grasp. Your gaze closely watching the threatening fingers taunting your face.

“Caleb, you’re hurting me.” You whimper. Current mission, prey on his weakness; you.

“Your arm… Ugh… It’s gripping my wrists t-too t-tightly.” Hopefully the additional sniffles you added were enough to make it sound convincing. His grip quickly softens and you’re able to retract your hands quick enough to catch him off guard. The once very threatening batter covered hand is your new target. You quickly grab it, twisting him into the same hold he had just reluctantly released you from. 

Unfortunately the process is not as graceful as you had intended it to be. As you begin to turn him around, the struggle causes both your limbs to flail awkwardly unsure of what moves to pull to reclaim the upper hand. You don’t even know who caused it, but you both tumble to the floor. He lands on his stomach with you on top. You still clutch his wrist and it is now pinned between his back and your chest. The worst part is that one of you somehow nudged the bowl and it also came crashing down, coating you in sticky batter. 

“Truce?” You whisper as your whole body tenses. You can feel the batter trickling down your arms and you know it’s gotten in your hair.

“What? Why? You’ve got the upper hand, Pips, this is not the time to back down.” He sounds stern and clearly disappointed.

“What is that feeling on my arm..?” A heavy sigh escapes him and you’re fairly certain he already knows the answer. You release his wrist and begin awkwardly removing yourself from his body. 

“Oh, Pip-squeak…” He stands back up and tilts his head as he takes in the state of you. The discomfort on your face tugs at his heartstrings. You stare at the mess you’ve made of his kitchen and you feel… Happy… A small smile dares to reveal itself as you look up at Caleb. His brows furrowed as he let out a confused chuckle. You never cease to amaze him. 

“Alright Cupcake, straight to the bathroom before you drip even more chocolate on my floors.” You can’t help but snicker at your newly acquired nickname. Hopefully it’s only temporary though, you’re not ready to let go of Pip-squeak. 

“Could you get me some clean clothes, Caleb?”

“Yes, yes! Please move, you’re drippin’ everywhere.” You raise your arms in defeat before disappearing into the bathroom. 

This felt like the longest shower ever. Getting the sticky batter out of your hair seemed nearly impossible and you couldn’t exactly ask Caleb for help. Could you? A loud knock on the door disrupts your inner monologue but you have no time to respond before you hear a voice. 

“I’m not peeking, just bringing you some clothes. I’ll leave ‘em on the counter. You need anything?”

You contemplate asking him for help, but decide against it. It would be wrong.

“No, thank you!” Hopefully he heard you. Your voice felt feeble against the sounds of water on tile. 

“Alright, you know where to find me if you change your mind.” The soft sound of a door closing lets you know you are alone once more. 

After emerging from the shower you find yourself puzzled by the garments on the counter. These aren’t mine… You see one item you recognize as a lacey pair of red panties stare back at you. Hm, I must have accidentally left them here the last time I visited… You sigh and begin to slip into Caleb’s chosen attire. The feeling of his clothes on your body brought a familiar comfort. A comfort you had not felt in way too long. It felt different now, not bad, just different. The grey sweatpants were far too long and your attempt to fold them up using the elastic hem was only semi successful. A dark purple crewneck lay gently on your shoulders whilst softly cascading down your arms. You could tell it was clean, but his scent still lingered on the fabric. My Caleb… 

Returning to the living room you are met by the sweet scent of chocolate cupcakes. The trail of batter you left behind was long gone and Caleb was relaxing on the couch with a book. He had cleaned himself up, exchanging his messy shirt for a clean one. 

“I look ridiculous.” You say catching his attention. A soft smile tugs at his lips as he takes you in admiring seeing you in his clothes once more. It was a sight for sore eyes. A sight he had desperately missed.

“You do not look ridiculous, you look very cute.” He smiled reassuringly. 

You slump down next to him on the couch placing your legs in his lap as you lean back. He gently strokes your ankles through the sweatpants whilst returning his focus to the book he had kept himself busy with.

“How did you have time to remake the batter?” You ask, referring to the sweet smell of baked goods filling the room.

“Oh, I didn’t, there was enough left in the bowl for two small cupcakes.” He keeps his gaze fixed on the book. His tender hands keep moving on your legs like it comes as easily to him as breathing. 

You silently play with the hem of your sweater before moving your fingers to tug at the collar. Subconsciously you lift it over your mouth and nose breathing in the lingering scent of Caleb.

“Whatchu doin’ over there, Pips?” Caught in the act. He puts his book away and leans down over your legs staring into your eyes from across the couch. The mischievous grin adorning his face tells you he definitely wants an answer. 

“No rush. Take your time to come up with a reason.” He smirks, never breaking eye contact. You remain quiet feeling your heart beat faster against your chest for every second you don’t respond.

With a deep breath you finally muster up the courage to say something. “I’ve missed you, Caleb.”

His eyes soften and the tension fades away. He looks at you with such longing. Like he hasn’t seen you for years and you finally returned to him. 

“I’ve missed you too, Pip-squeak.”

You both remain quiet as you take in every detail of each other. Eyes, Lips, Freckles. You want his image imprinted directly into your brain stem so it can never leave you. He can never leave you. Not again.

A sudden ding is heard from the kitchen but none of you react. Did you unknowingly enter a staring contest? Regardless of whatever reason you had for staring, neither of you wanted to be the first to look away.

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✎ AN: Hm, I wonder if those panties were in fact left behind on accident, or if there is another reason explaining why they might have been in his possession... English is not my first language, so I hope you'll cut me some slack.

- Colonel Kaboom

[soft-boi-eli]

Sylus x cane user reader

Tw. Not proof read. You scare sylus. You do fall but you good.

Ok sylus is definitely will take care of you. No ands ifs or buts. He has the money and the power.

And even though people view you as a nuisance or a faker because your so young he seea you as one of the most powerful people he met.

Hes just like you mean you go through this shit, the pain, the comments, and even the harassment and you are still living dispite all of it. He fuckin respects you.

His house is now accessible completely. He had stairs yes but now there is an elevator. Nothing is put too low or too high the shelves up high were too high for you to reach anyways.

The bathroom? Theres a built in shower chair with a second shower head for easy reach, cant have you falling. Also mephisto is always with you. Be it in his house, in the bathroom, anywhere he is there. Cant have you hurting yourself.

Im rambling. Uhmm uhh. Here a scenario that has happened. Warning you do fall. Your ok with a new big bruise on you booty but ok. Sylus is however very overwhelmingly concerned.

You wanted a shower and apprently that was a crime of your body. Today you were doing ok. The pain was minimal and you trusted yourself. It was a day of stupid mistakes. And your dumbass decided to forgo the built in shower chair. You call yourself a dumbass for a reason. In the middle of you rinsing your hair out your leg gives out. The loud thud was heard through the base. And you just sat there, more stunned then hurt. You landed ass first onto the river rock floor.

And you sat there blinking and digesting what had happened. However you didnt have long to take it in because the door was opened violently. And in came your hulking boyfriend. He hadnt even turned off the shower. He was in there with you soaking his expensive clothes. Looking over you for broken bones. And to top everything off with a cherry and bow you had started your period. The scent of blood had him fretting more and more. "Sylus. SYLUS!" His eyes landed onto yours. And your hands went to his face. "Im ok. Im on my period and i fell. My ego and butt may be briused but im ok." He was quick to bundle you in one of his black towels and help you slip on a pair of underwear. "Well kitten you are going to have to let me determine if you are fully ok."

He had carried you to the bed, he didnt care for his sopping wet clothes, setting you down with your cane next to the bed. He had stripped off his wet shirt, pants, and left only his boxers.

He had flipped you to lay on your stomach, gently running his hands over your back feeling every bone and each muscle. He stopped when his hand reached your lower back and hip. He looked into ypur eyes waiting for your nod before he gently pulled your undies down to expose your butt. The area red and a small amount of purple already exposed itself.

His fingers were soft and his lips gently met with the bruised flesh. "Sylus! Dont kiss my butt cheek!" He looked up meeting your firey gaze. His ruby eyes glinted with a bit of humor. Sprinkling more gentle kisses over the flesh. His hands were just a suggestion on him holding your hips. His heart lighten at the giggles that escaped you. The thought of you in pain faded.

"My kitten is definitely not broken. But there is quite a bit of a bruise there." He rested his face into the small of your back. Having pulled up the fabric of your panties. His breath soft against your skin. His wet hair left water drops everywhere.

"My big bad dragon oh so scared over a small fall." He stared into your eyes a glare. "Kitten. It sounded like you fell and broke everything in the shower. Luke and kerian heard it from the garage." Your face flushed. Embarressment flooded you as your face found home in a pillow. He slowly ran his hands up your back, fingers swirling and lossening knots of muscle.

"Now kitten. When you shower i would feel comfortable if i showered with you for a little bit." With his fingers breaking any tension in your body you could only hum in agreeance. "Even if that means i have to strap you to that damn chair kitten. Its installed there for you." His voice went stern. "I felt good today. I thought i could stand." He places a kiss to your shoulder blade. "I know kitten but sometimes even if you feel like you're able to it might be safest to just use the aide." You pouted at him. Anger slightly sparking. "I dont mean tjat you cant shower or do things without them. I just think its safer." He slowly pressed his body onto yours hands now back to holding your hips.

"Sylus! Your heavy!" He hummed as his body slowly relaxed letting your body get use to it. "Sorry kitten. You scared me and now i want to be as close as i can." Your eyes soften, all anger you had was gone. You werent alone here. You forgot that. If you had a fall at your apartment it was just you and finding if you were ok yourself. But here? With sylus. You had other people that would worry or get scared.

His face was nuzzled into your neck, so leaning your head onto his was easy. "Sorry sy. Use to livin alone." He hums arms now wrapped around your waist. "I know kitten. I dont blame you though." You let your body relax under his weight. You knew he was scared for you. You knew he cared so much. And he knew that you being stubborn and wanted to do things your way was something that he loved about you. He would never change you or even want to. Even if it seemed you were able to scare him to death most of the time.

[memoirofasparklemuff1n]

hoax- r.c. x reader*

synopsis (?): you always thought the worst things in life were the actions of the living, yet the one person you loved and hurt you the most, was not.

warnings: this depression, implied suicide, death, resentment of the dead. i think this is heavy though i tried to tone it down a bit. if it’s too triggering just click out, please. take care of yourself. i didn’t want to post this at first but thought that maybe it could help someone in a way (?) idk maybe it doesn’t or maybe that someone is me. would be nice for a change. anyway, enough trauma dumping lol <3

*one shot

𓏲 𓆉 .₊‧˚𓇼 𓏲 𓆉 .₊‧˚𓇼 𓏲 𓆉 .₊‧˚𓇼

the sand beneath your fingertips bore a peculiar resemblance to the amount of pain you felt. though you suspected that if it were to come between your pain and every grain, the former would leave with the grand prize.

and for every rain drop in your face, the lakes beneath you became more bitter than sweet.

for a moment you could believe that the weather was nothing more than a mirage of your most inner self. the waves only reflecting a smaller portion of the rage, disbelief, and confusion beneath the surface.

when sarah said that rafe was gone, you didn’t believe her. at first you thought it was a joke— a sick one— but a joke nonetheless. but then, she handed you a letter with your name scribbled in his messy handwriting.

because it hadn’t been a tragic accident, or an extreme sport gone wrong. no.

it had been murder, except it was done by the one person you could never, ever question. at least not in this life.

he was gone.

there was no way to accuse him of such a heinous crime, no way to look for evidence to lock him behind bars, and most definitely, no family or lover pleading for justice.

it wasn’t like you could sentence the dead.

the letter was now barely legible from the water stains threaded deep into the ink and the so called remorse they painted. but it didn’t matter, because if there was one thing you would remember until the day that you died, it would be the cruel phrases that only a wretched piece of paper could hold.

it was funny how humans call themselves the most advanced species and only a single spoken word could shatter them into a million pieces, yet a piece of paper that came from a tree that once lived was somehow stronger than the gods themselves. or maybe that was the entire point, the dead cannot feel, not anymore.

the tide kissed your feet seductively in a means to distract you from what it really wanted. to take the final piece of him you still held. maybe the sea wasn’t a part of you after all, maybe it was a part of him.

you held your knees to your chest, with your hands reaching for the paper below holding it tighter each time it was drifting away.

you closed your eyes tightly, locking away the salt water that was threatening to spill against your will.

you sacrificed us to the gods of your bluest days.

you took deep breaths so as to not drown yourself in sorrow. the rain was doing it effortlessly anyway, she didn’t need your help.

𓏲 𓆉 .₊‧˚𓇼 𓏲 𓆉 .₊‧˚𓇼 𓏲 𓆉 .₊‧˚𓇼

my love,

if there is anything about you that i adore the most, it is the way you love. if you’re reading this, it means i’m gone. we both knew it would happen one day, only we didn’t want to see it.

i guess denial was our worst rival, time our worst enemy. we were foolish to believe that we could make it, but for a moment it was the only thing that pieced and held us together.

your tenacity is one for the books and for that, i am forever grateful. you gave me hope when i otherwise would have held on to my quiet resentment. because of you, i knew and understood what real love is. you made me a better person for however long you were with me. i just wish i had found you sooner, before it was too late. but there is no point in regret, is there? i know i am was not an easy person to love and for that i admire you. you, a stranger, chose to believe in me, to love me. you had no obligation to do so, yet the ones that did only turned their backs on me. or maybe that is where i am wrong. nobody owes us love.

i am sorry for the things that i said. for the things that i did that affected you both directly and indirectly. i never meant to hurt you, not now not ever. just know that this is not your fault, i had long decided before you came along. you just gave me a glimpse of what i could’ve been. if life had been different, i could have been the man you deserve. and for a moment i tried. i really did. yet sometimes good intentions are not enough. what i said that day by the beach was not meant for you, it was meant for me. i simply projected my self hatred onto you and for that i loath myself and will regret for the rest of my short life, possibly for the rest of eternity, long after i am gone.

i do love you. i always have and always will. only now i want you to be free to have happiness without my chains tying you down. i could no longer be selfish. we both know i just did everyone a favor. the entirety of the people around us despised me and with good measure. i could not take you down with me. you deserve a free man, without sins burning through his every breath. you deserve the purest of loves, a family and friends that love you unconditionally.

i was only a barrier to that. you’ll find someone, i am not the one. you might hate me now and possibly forever, but in the end it is for the better. thank you, angel. i love you more than the entirety of the universe, than the deepest of the oceans, than all of the words in all of the books in the world combined. it is useless to try to measure my love for you, even the word ‘love’ pales in comparison to what my cruel heart could hold.

just promise me that you will live a happy life. live for the both of us, for the person i could’ve been, and the person i became with you. trust me when i say i met happiness because of you. you are my happiness.

you’re the love and the loss of my life. i am sure that the devil himself will punish me for the pain i have caused you and others. just know that i would have married you and grown old together had i been different. maybe, just maybe, i will meet you in another life and correct every mistake i have made in this one. especially the wrongs i did to you.

i love you, i’m sorry.

yours forever, rafe

𓏲 𓆉 .₊‧˚𓇼 𓏲 𓆉 .₊‧˚𓇼 𓏲 𓆉 .₊‧˚𓇼

the tide once again caressed you, finally getting what she wanted. you got up to chase it but it only slipped from your fingers, the ocean taking every last remnant of your heart away.

“no! no, please. no.” you fell to your knees, the scream you’d had lodged in your throat finally breaking free. your sobs now finding their way out without restrictions.

you lied on the ground for who knows how long in hopes that maybe the ocean would take you too. only she didn’t. nobody wanted you, you didn’t even want yourself.

the sky began to clear, the waves began to calm, the wind began to slow until everything was still. the storm was now inside you so the rest could continue to live in the paradise on earth.

more like hell on earth.

tragedy was all that lurked here, you doubted that was what constituted paradise.

i should hate you but your faithless love’s the only hoax i believe in.

you knew it still hurts underneath my scars from when they pulled me apart.

but what you did was just as dark.

the sky was no longer grey and you hated it.

don’t want no other shade of blue but you no other sadness in the world would do

“y/n?” you jerked awake at the sound of your name. your heart beating faster in fear or excitement. maybe both but you couldn’t tell.

“rafe?”

𓏲 𓆉 .₊‧˚𓇼 𓏲 𓆉 .₊‧˚𓇼 𓏲 𓆉 .₊‧˚𓇼 possibly my worst story yet lol

can you tell i was listening to taylor and gracie? anyway, the ending is your choice whether she’s dreaming, hallucinating, or dead. or maybe none of the above, idfk.

xx

[thatsmooji]

dogtooth.

sigma!connie springer x reader

1.4k words: connie springer x reader, mixed!connie springer, black!reader, light angst, hurt/comfort, arguments, foul language, mentions of violence, neglectful partners, past relationships, jealous exes, pet names (ma, mama, baby, pretty girl), not really proof read

notes: hiiii! sorry that this took so long, but i finally got a laptop! it actually sucks ass, but i can write much faster on here! i lost a bit of motivation, but i know that i definitely want to write more sigma!connie and alpha!ony, so expect to see more of them! this fic doesn't have much to do with greek life, but i just wanted to note that this is part of the sigma!connie series anyway :)

“you can't keep getting into fights, connie baby.”

your boyfriend didn't respond, choosing to look out the window at the passing city as you drove him back to campus. the lights of the town shown gently on connie’s face, letting you catch slight glimpses of the bruises plaguing his beautiful cream skin. you sighed, turning your attention back towards the road.

your heart had nearly fallen into your stomach when connie called you from the police station, softly asking you to pick him up. it made you sick to see him hurt, and it didn’t help that he was being so nonchalant about it.

“they're not gonna keep giving you breaks forever, you know,” you started again, ignoring the way connie sucked in a breath next to you. “your frat brothers can only do so much. hell, i can only do so much-”

“well what am i supposed to do, ______? just let that asshole keep messing with you?” connie snapped. he was frustrated. beyond frustrated, and you'd be stupid not to know it. “he keeps playing in my fucking face.”

<3

when you got accepted into your university, you were so excited to just escape. leaving your old friends, unbearable family, and past mistakes behind. it was a new chapter in your life, and the last thing you expected was for an old character to make a reappearance.

your ex-boyfriend, aran, had followed you out of state to your university. apparently, he had been accepted on an academic scholarship, but that was very hard to believe. there was no room for anything besides high praises for himself in that brain, let alone any academic knowledge. the boy was arrogant, narcissistic, even.

looking back, the only reason you got involved with him was to maintain the high-standard image you had worked so hard to portray in high school. he was rich, and so were you. you were stunning, and he was beautiful. popular, wanted, and adored. a match pulled straight out of a high school novel.

but behind the scenes, aran was mean. at first, you believed you could learn to love him; making him lunches and dropping them off at his homeroom class, showing up to support him in any activities he decided to participate in, and even going on halfass dates with him outside of school, which usually only ended up with him heading home with a new girl’s number in his phone. it was hell dating aran, and you were so glad to leave the part of you that was ever involved with him behind.

but now he was here, tainting your new (genuine this time) picture-perfect life. everywhere you went on campus, he was there. hollering at you in the courtyard, standing behind you in the cafe, hell, even showing up to your dorm room at the ass crack of dawn. despite all of this, you ignored him. you were determined to continue revelling in the comfort you had built around you. you had new friends, new goals, new ideals, and a new and very loving boyfriend. you weren’t the selfish, inconsiderate bitch that you were in highschool anymore. you had things that you cared for, and aran was not a part of that.

it didn’t take long for aran to realize this either. and while it wasn’t as easy to break you down, it was almost comical how simple it was to get under connie’s skin; and he knew that your precious connie baby is what mattered the most.

it started harmless enough. minor taunts everytime aran caught glimpses of connie around campus, as well as the occassional shade thrown toward him on instagram or snapchat. during this stage, connie was much slower to anger, and you miraculously managed to keep him from doing anything he’d regret. you’d convinced him that the sigmas and you mattered more, and connie held onto that notion deeply.

but aran was nothing if not persistent. he began making passes at you in connie’s presense, even going as far as to slap your ass when he walked past the two of you. that was when connie’s resolve began to slip.

<3

now you were here, driving a slightly battered and bruised connie back home. you hadn’t even been present to know what went down. you were hanging out peacefully in your dorm, helping your roommate get herself together after a night out when connie called.

“what even happened, connie?” you asked, glancing over once more to see him still staring out the window. “whatever it was, i’m sure putting your hands on him wasn’t the solution.”

connie was quiet for a moment, but he sure as hell knew better than to ignore you. he scoffed before turning back to you, staring daggers as if you were the one in the wrong.

“why do you keep defending this boy?” he sneered.

your mouth gaped, honestly trying to grasp what the hell connie was talking about.

“connie, wha-”

“every fucking time me and him get into it, you always crying about ‘not putting my hands on him’ and ‘you don’t have to do allat.’ who’s side are you on, ? cause it sure as fuck don’t seem like mine. you still like that nigga or something?”

you whipped your head to look at connie, anger lacing your face. “are you fucking kidding me connie? you think i want him to keep bothering us? you think i want to see you stressing everytime aran is even mentioned? don’t talk fucking crazy to me.”

you weren’t even watching the road anymore, praying that your hand stayed steady and no one pulled out in front of you. “what? you think i’m not bothered by him too, connie? that nigga followed me here like some fucking stalker, and you think i’m okay with that? you think i like it? i don’t, but i sure as hell don’t like dragging my ass out of bed in the middle of the night, worried fucking sick, to come get your ass out of jail for fighting a mistake that i made several years ago.”

the car swerved slightly before your turned your attention back to the road, tears stinging at the back of your eyes.

“all of this ‘nagging’ and fussing i’ve been doing is for you. i don’t wanna see you lose the shit you care about because of me. i never thought i would see him again, connie. there was not a single ounce of love between us back then, and i promise you that there isn’t now,” you sniffed, scrubbing the tears off your bare face with your sleeve. “i’m sorry that he’s here. i didn’t know he would do any of this. he’s ruining everything that i worked so hard to get, bringing back the things i ran from and-”

“pull over.”

you sucked your teeth, looking over expecting to see a look of judgement, but there wasn’t. connie stared at you with soft, comforting eyes. you only ever saw them when you cried, whether you were stressed over an exam or distraught because your hair didn’t act right that day. connie has never judged you, so why would he start now?

“pull over, ma. it’s okay.”

you coughed nervously, pulling off the road into a Target parking lot close to campus. once you parked, you immediately felt connie’s arms wrap tightly around you. he gently pulled you over the seat into his lap, wiping the raw spots under your eyes with cold fingers.

“’m sorry for fighting, mama. ion wanna see you crying over this,” he started, using his other hand to rub soothing circles into your back. “i know i let my temper cloud my mind sometimes, but everybody knows i don’t play about my pretty girl.”

you looked away, trying to stifle your laugh.

“ahh there it is, look at them pretty lips,” connie grinned, pushing your face to look back at him. “i know that you’re mine, and you ain’t going nowhere. especially not for some nigga who wears skinny jeans.”

connie leaned forward, resting his face in the crook of your neck. “all i see is somebody bothering my girl, and i just don’t think. i didn’t know it was bothering you this much, baby. all my fighting and shit has been for you, but if that ain’t what you want, then it’s not gonna happen anymore.”

you nodded into his shoulder before pulling back and pressing a kiss onto connie’s forehead.

“thank you, connie baby.”

connie leaned up, quickly pressing a kiss into both of your cheeks.

“anything for you, ma.”

“…now if that nigga put his hands on you…”

“connie, please,” you scoffed before playfully nodding towards your purse. “he knows better.”

connie snorted before pulling you back in for a hug.

“that’s my girl.”

[soaps-mohawk]

So, is Price jealous or something?🤔 He was acting kinda off at the end of the chapter. He mad at reader for going feral with Simon or coming to him last?

Nope!! He was being a tease paired with him really wanting the reader to rest but she was being insistent. So he kind of just said if you want it so badly, put in the work.

No jealousy here lol. Just him being a tease paired with a worried alpha 😂

[gossamyrrh]

hybrids, semi-public sex ୨ৎ fem!reader

dogboy!choso gets off on being a little bit vulgar…

it’s so easy for him to whine and trot to your feet, hump your leg, too, and blame it on the fact that it’s just his “instincts” taking over !

no, of course he doesn’t mean to pin you down that harshly so he can use you to get off. rutting against the curve of your ass as though he were left to the wild. and he definitely doesn’t mean to cum all over you. leave a sticky mess all over your skin. getting hard again when you coo that “it’s okay” and he’s just a “silly little mutt who can’t help himself”, as you scratch behind his ears because he’s still your good boy.

he almost thinks it’s too good to be true—the extent of your naïveté; your ignorance. how you let him act however with little repercussions. turning him into a grimy thing. a spoilt, little house-pet.

…it’s entirely your fault, then, for what comes next:

a dinner party; all your close friends and family members gathered in one room to celebrate your recent promotion, and dogboy!choso sits in the corner and eyes you as though starved. ears twitching lightly. eyes hooded. watching as the hem of your dress rises little by little whenever you move.

he doesn’t exactly know when that itch started up again—that fire in his belly swelled—but all he knows is that he wants to touch you. wants to feel you. sink his canines past your supple flesh and watch you writhe—pin you to the table while your guests stare in horror.

but he’s patient. knows better, if only just barely. waits until the wine’s gone, the food’s picked over, and the rowdy chatter about simmers into something more subdued—before he takes his own serving.

(stretches his maw; readies himself for a bite.)

and then—quietly, smoothly—he creeps forward.

no one notices. why would they? he’s just the quiet, obedient pet, right?

wrong.

he slinks under the table, head low, crawling on strong forearms, and sniffs until he finds you. his pretty thing. his master. the scent of your cunt so distinct—honeyed—that it knocks the air from his chest. makes his head spin.

you’re wearing silk panties. the kind he likes. soft and thin and soaked through. like you knew he was coming.

he nuzzles close. presses his nose to your slit and inhales deep, then deeper. his tongue darting out to taste.

slowly.

he’s good this time. careful. doesn’t want you to shove him away and whisper scoldings in that condescending tone of yours that often leaves him puzzled.

instead, he laps softly—lazily—like he’s tasting something sweet for the first time. like you’re dessert and he’s starving. sating his sweet tooth.

and when your thighs twitch? when your breath catches mid-laugh and your hand slides under the table to grab a fistful of his hair?

he whines. humps the floor once, like a filthy, desperate mutt.

and he swears—he’ll be good. he will. if you just let him keep going a little longer.

your fingers tangle in his hair, nails grazing his scalp, and choso practically purrs.

his tail thumps once—twice—against the hardwood before he stills it, panting now, lips glossy with spit and slick. he mouths at you like it’s all he knows how to do. tongue dragging slow and wide up the seam of your panties, soaking the fabric even more until it clings to your folds and he can see the shape of you through it. smell it. taste it.

you shift slightly, trying not to squirm, biting down on a moan. and just your luck, someone across the table says your name, asks you a question.

“you okay?”

you can feel all eyes on you.

“just…a little hot.” you murmur, voice strained. high-pitched.

choso just grins into your pussy. nose pressed against the damp fabric, tongue slipping underneath to flick against your clit just once, just to see if you’ll flinch.

and you do.

he moans at that, a soft little rumble that vibrates right through you, and starts grinding into the floor like the fucking dog he is. cock dragging along the polished wood, sticky with pre already, throbbing with every twitch of your thigh.

you try to close your legs. try.

but he growls—a low, warning noise that’s more animal than man—and pries your thighs back open with rough hands. pushes them apart until the chair creaks.

he noses the fabric aside and licks directly into you now. slow, deliberate. broad strokes that make your eyes flutter and your belly tense. his tongue is messy, undisciplined, like everything else about him. he groans into you, drinks you in, rutting against the floor the whole time, leaking and whining, eyes rolling back as he buries his face in your cunt. licking, slurping, suckling, like he wants to crawl inside.

you know you shouldn’t let him.

you know there are eyes just above the tablecloth, people talking and laughing and sipping their drinks while your filthy dogboy fucks himself on the floor and licks at your cunt like it’s his last meal.

but he’s looking up at you now.

those eyes.

glassy and fucked-out, begging you not to stop him.

and how could you? he’s being so good. so good.

so you pet his head. scratch behind his ears. let your hand slide down to cup his jaw as he sucks your clit into his mouth with a low, wet moan.

“good boy,” you breathe, too soft for anyone else to hear.

and choso shudders. cums in his pants again without even touching himself, hips jerking wildly into the floor. the sound he makes is guttural, ruined.

but he doesn’t stop licking.

not even after your thighs start to tremble. not even after you tug his hair and hiss his name and try to push his head back.

no—he needs this. needs your taste, your scent, your thighs squeezing around his ears like you’re trying to kill him.

and when you finally cum? biting your lip and pressing your heel into his back to keep him there?

he whimpers. grinds his spent, twitching cock into the floor and moans like he’s in heaven.

like you just gave him the greatest reward in the world.

you gently pull him away. smooth his messy hair back. he pants against your thigh, dazed and warm and sticky.

and just before he crawls back to his corner—still dripping, still aching—he presses a soft, sloppy kiss to the inside of your knee.

your friends are still talking. still laughing.

and not a single one of them knows that your good, little mutt just made you cum under the dinner table.