#he takes such good care of me and makes me such a good girl

[sylusismybby]

Sylus doesn't realize how big he is until the first time you two have sex. You hiss, your hand gripping onto his bicep tightly as he pushes his cock into you. "Everything alright, sweetie?" His voice held a certain amount of gentleness, he stops moving as he waits for you answer. "Yes...you're just...big..." Sylus lets a small smile come to his lips. "I'll just have to be careful then. Wouldn't want to overwhelm you thus early on, kitten." His hips move forward again, this time he takes his time, making sure you feel all of him. Your gasps and moans are like music to his ears, he can listen to them all day. "Tell me if it's too much and I'll stop." It was too much but you didn't want him to pull out, it felt painfully good.

Once he was fully inside of you, he let's you adjust to his size, moving only a little bit. Your pussy squeezed him a few times making him groan. "You feel amazing. Can I move now?" He leans down feeling the way your legs wrap around his body, he holds onto your thighs as he kisses up to your jaw. "Yes." It's a weak yes, you felt so full, he felt so good. Sylus nods and then starts moving his hips setting a slow pace at first. As soon as he sees that your experience grows to one of full pleasure, he speeds up, his hips moving quicker, harder. The moans that leave your mouth get louder, your hands move from his arms to his back, nails digging into his pale skin. He chuckles, he isnt fucking you fast, he is fucking you well. "There we go. Thats my good kitten." He kisses you on the lips, it's a kiss of raw passion, you feel him everywhere in your body. The room is filled with skin slapping noises as his cock moves in and out of your pussy.

Pulling away from the kiss, he grabs your hands pinning your wrists above your head. "Look at yourself. You're taking me so well." His red eyes are filled with adoration and lust, this is exactly how he wanted you. You look up at the mirror that was above the bed, it's an imagine that you wish you can take a picture of. Sylus is on top of you, his body moving against yours, his back painted by the scratches of your nails, your sweaty bodies illuminated by the dim lights. It didn't him long to realize where you were looking, he bites into your neck before speaking. "Enjoying the view are we? Atta girl." Then he starts to thrust into you faster, his cock pouding you deeper than before. A loud moan of his name echoes through the room, you grab onto the sheets, eyes rolling back. He was hitting all the right spots.

When your velvety walls start to clench around his length, he knows that you're close, so he slows down, wanting to savor every bit of you. Sylus takes one of your breats in his mouth, his tongue eagerly swirling against your nipple. The combined pleasure is making you lose your mind, your back arches. "Syl! Faster please!" You're begging him now, something you swore you'll never do. "Is that so? Well, what my kitten wants, she gets." He takes hold of your legs and puts them on his shoulder.kissing your ankle before his movements speed up. Sylus admires the way your breasts bounce at his every hard thrust, he admires how your body reacts so perfectly to his. "Syl! I'm close!" The desperation in your voice makes his cock twitch, you feel it too. His hand moves down your leg until it reaches your core, he gently rubs his thumb over your clit to get you to cum. It works, tou cum around his cock, your body twisting in pleasure as your orgasm washes over you. He follows, pulling out quickly and painting your stomach white, his eyes are closed for a moment before he looks at you again. Sylus gives you a few moments before he turns the position around si you were on top of him. "We aren't done yet. Afterall..." He looks up, looking at your reflections in the mirror. "...it's time for me to admire the view too, sweetie."

[shawtuzi]

here’s a random best friend!eren drabble bc im bored

cw include: black coded reader, some drug usage (weed), unprotected sex, backshots, sex standing up, sex onna floorrr, lots of dirty talk, multiple orgasms, squirting, creampie, some choking [ inspo vids: 1 2 3 ]

“you sure about this y/n? i don’t want things to get weird . . .” eren mumbled, his hands fidgeting with the loops on his jeans—something he always did when he was nervous. you just giggled, your mind too cloudy and in a horny daze to care that your about to fuck your childhood best friend.

you were sitting at the edge of your bed with eren standing right in front of you, his large frame towering over yours. his breath hitched when you grabbed onto the hem on his jeans, your chin now resting on his lower stomach. you looked at him through your freshly done lashes, your eyes low n’ red from the blunt you previously smoked together.

“i jus’ wanna see what’s got those girls all crazy about you ren,” you practically purred, smirking when you saw his teeth clamp onto his bottom lip. you could feel the firm bulge in his jeans, your manicured nails trailing up and down the length of it.

“oooo s-shit, f-fuck okay yeah get on all fours.”

sometime later….

“o-oh my goddd, f-fuck erennnn!” your arms flailed behind you to push as eren’s stomach, but him being the dickhead he is, just grabbed your wrists and held you still. he had you bent over the bed, your feet pushing up to your tippy toes to keep up with his brutal thrusts.

“no no don’t run mama—fuck, jus’ take it. cmon fuck me back, fuck renny back,” you pitifully shook your head, salty tears seeping into your comforter.

in all the years you’ve known eren you weren’t aware of the fact that he had such a dirty mouth. filthy praises and promises were flying past his kiss swollen lips left and right, so much so it was making you even more dizzy than you already were.

“who knew my best friend had such a pretty lil’ pussy,” eren breathlessly chuckled, his tongue swiping against his bottom lip as he admired the milky white ring of your essence coating the base of his cock. “n-no eren, too fuckin’ deep s-shit!” you cried, legs trembling as eren pushed all of his weight into your backside. he swiveled his hips, determined to reach that special spot deep inside you.

“heh, now y’see why those girls w-won’t leave me alone, dick is too fuckin’ good ain’t it mama,” eren groaned, smacking your ass harshly. eren wasn’t the best at a lot of things, not that he even really tried to be, but one thing he knew he was good at was beating up some lucky girls guts. sure he wasn’t slanging nine inches, but don’t get it twisted he knew how to use his six and a half inches very, very well. after all it’s not about the size of the wave, but the motion of the ocean or whatever the fuck.

he pulled you up by the neck, keeping you still against his chest. your legs trembled, your hands pushing back softly against eren’s thighs to steady yourself. “this is my favorite way to fuck, it’s so fun watching girls try to run just for me to fuck them to the floor,” he finished off his sentence by licking the shell of your ear, grinning when he felt your body shiver.

“you’re—hah! you’re s-sick ren.”

“shittt say that again baby,” eren groaned, sliding halfway out before slamming back inside. his free hand found purchase on your breast, the other hand squeezing lightly at your neck. “you’re *thrust* so fucking *thrust* s-sick eren!” you gasped out, your hands flinging behind you to tug at eren’s disheveled bun.

all a sudden black dots clouded your vision and your ears began to ring—well this was definitely new. “fuck, you squirtin’ mama?” eren was quick to wrap his arm around your waist, his other hand still securely wrapped around your throat. he fucked you through your orgasm, hearts forming at how soaked his thighs were now. he’s never had a squirter before, and he wasn’t sure he was ready to leave this life after you two were done!

“i *hiccup* didn’t even k-know i could do that,” you whimpered, your eyes rolling back when eren started up a steady rhythm. your pussy felt so sensitive, yet each time he pulled out you wanted him back inside that instant. your legs felt like jello and you knew any moment they were bound to give up.

you took a shaky step towards your bed but eren just followed, his lips upturning into a smirk. now comes his favorite part.

“r-ren okay! okay i get ittt,” you sobbed out, gasping as your knees met the plushness of your carpet. eren remained inside you the entire time, wasting no time as he pushed your face into the carpet until your back with positioned into the perfect arch. as crazy as it sounded each slap of his balls against your clit felt like electricity shooting through your veins, causing nothing but moans and babbles to slip past your drooling lips.

“fuck m’gonna cum mama, get ready,” with four final thrusts eren emptied himself inside you, coating your walls in his sticky warmth. your body slumped more into the carpet, your eyes fluttering shut. eren pulled out slowly, laughing when your lower half fell with a dull thud.

“i *sniffle* see your point,” you whimpered, your back arching when your clit rubbed against the carpet. eren grinned, sitting back on his knees before gently turning your body over. he tapped your thigh softly, “push it out . . . please.”

you rolled your eyes, not looking forward the even bigger mess it would make, but you did as you were told. eren let out a long breath through his nose as he watch he cum drip out of you in thick globs. he peered at you through his lashes—

“we should, um, do this again sometime.”

[fxymi]

okay pushing the pussy whipped loser boy agenda, rin is beyond obsessed with you and your pussy.

rin, regardless of how much of an egoist he is, has never touched a girl. sure, he’s gorgeous n all but his personality doesn’t exactly scream “welcoming” and “lovely”, which is why he’s thrilled that he landed an angel like you.

you’re his first love, his first girlfriend, his first kiss, his first everything—of course he’s obsessed. he doesn’t just want you, he needs you. really, he’s convinced he’ll die if you ever leave him.

he’s devoted to you and solely you, and you are just as down bad for him as he is for you. that’s why it’s his job to take care of you and your needy little cunt that he just can’t seem to get enough of! <3

you had a bad day? no worries, he’ll pound his cock into you until you’re practically clawing at the sheets, crying and begging for more, and the only thing on your mind now is rin looking down at you through his lashes as he makes you cum one more time.

he leans down and presses chaste kisses to your jaw while you ride out your orgasm and brushes away any hair falling over your face.

“feel better?” he mumbles against the skin of your neck that’s glistening with sweat.

of course the answer is yes. if your voice isn’t too hoarse to say so, at least.

tired? he doesn’t just make cringy trash talk with his mouth, so he’ll gladly get on his knees in front of you and needily lap and suck at your clit while you weave your fingers through hair and tug on it. your thighs are clenching around his head and of course, even though he’s doing his best for you, he’ll complain about it a little.

“quit it,” he grunts, forcefully parting your thighs with his arms.

his tongue skilfully works past your folds and at your soaking pussy. he doesn’t care that his nose and lips are glossy with your arousal, he’s just focused on knowing that he’s making you feel this good. you tug on his hair a little harder, head tilting back as you let out a moan that basically shakes your body.

rin thought you were tired?

and if you’re in the mood? if you just get so needy for him? he’ll gladly oblige, no matter how busy he is. even if this means leaving you begging for his cock, you should be grateful that he’s fingering you so well and letting you cum ^^

“rin—hah—please…need you inside me,” you whine out, squirming against the soft silk sheets of the bed.

rin’s sat beside you—one hand flipping through the book he had to read for english, and the other one pistoled and almost idly pumping in and out of your hole while his thumb slowly rubs circles right above your clit.

he shoots you a sharp glare while your incessant begging interrupts whatever jay gatsby was rattling off about on the pages.

“i’m a little preoccupied, if you couldn’t tell,” he says flatly. “jesus, ‘thought you’d be grateful that i’m even taking care of your slutty fuckin’ cunt right now.”

you let out a soft noise of protest? or maybe it was just another needy mewl? whatever it was, rin sighs and caves. how was he supposed to resist when you looked at him all teary-eyed and sounded so desperate, just for him? he loved you too much for this.

“if you can stay quiet until i finish this chapter, ill give you what you want. but only if you shut up and let me get through this.”

[moonstruckme]

Helloo lovely, hope you're having a good day!

I just wanted to leave a teeny tiny request for a poly!marauders x reader where reader has never tried any alcoholic drinks before but she wants to try and she trusts her boys about the drinks and about taking care of her if she feels drunk (not that she would recognize the feeling, I guess)?

If you've done this before or not feeling like writing it, just feel free to ignore it 💙

Hope tumblr doesn't eat my request this time, for some reason it really likes to eat anything I send when they are sent as anon 🤦🏻‍♀️

Thanks for requesting, angel <3

cw: alcohol

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 533 words

“Baby.” Sirius is laughing, pink-cheeked and sparkly-eyed while he detaches his mouth from a straw. His legs are pulled up with him onto the armchair, you sitting cross-legged on the couch with James. “You’ve got to give it more of a chance than that.” 

“Leave off her.” James comes to your defense, taking the drink from your hand into his own custody. Your boyfriends have benefited greatly from your discards tonight. “Maybe she’s just not a vodka girl.” 

“Everyone is a vodka girl! And flavored vodka is the best kind!”

“It’s just so…” You pucker your mouth, trying to get rid of the taste. “Sharp.” 

Both of them laugh, James wrapping an arm around your shoulders to smooch your cheek. “That’s alcohol, m’love,” he says fondly. 

“It all tastes like that?” 

“It doesn’t have to,” Remus assures you, coming in from the kitchen with another glass. (You’re really going to need to do the dishes tomorrow, you owe it to them after all this.) This drink is promisingly pink. “Are you alright to try another?”

“Please.” You reach for it, smiling at the twirly straw he’s stuck in there for you. 

“Is that a dirty Shirley?” James’ eyes light as he looks into your glass. He looks excited when Remus nods. “Angel, if you don’t like it, give it to me.” 

You close your lips around the straw, trying to ignore the attention of your boyfriends as you take a tentative sip. It doesn’t make you gag, at least. 

“This is good,” you say, almost warily. “What’s in it?”

Remus looks pleased with himself. “Sprite, grenadine, and malibu.” 

“Malibu?” Sirius elbows Remus as the taller boy folds into the armchair with him, aghast. “That’s cheating!”

“It is not,” Remus says primly. “She needed something less strong.” 

“Am I drunk yet?” you ask, having slurped down half the glass in your relief to finally be drinking something palatable. 

“Oh, hey, slow down, sailor.” James hooks a finger around your straw, gently tugging it from your mouth. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.” 

“You’ll know if you’re drunk, sweetness,” Sirius tells you. He’s grinning like he can’t wait. 

You frown. “How will I know?” 

“You’ll know,” he promises. “Everything feels rather different.” 

“Like, good different?”

Sirius hesitates, and Remus cuts in. “That’s up to you, dove. Not everyone likes it, but we won’t let it be awful for you.” 

You falter, slowing your sips from your straw cautiously. James laughs and plants another kiss on your cheek. If your boyfriends are anything to go by, being drunk is a lovely time. 

“We won’t let anything happen to you,” he says, thumb denting into your cheek affectionately. “It’ll be fun, scout’s honor.” 

“You weren’t actually in the boy scouts, Jamie,” Remus reminds him. 

“Yeah, but I totally get what they were about. And I live by those values, Moons, so I’m practically an honorary scout. Scout’s honor, get it?” 

You listen to this rigmarole with something between wariness and amusement. “Is being drunk going to be like that?” you ask Remus. 

He grins as he picks up a drink from your collection of discards, but it’s Sirius who answers. 

“We should all be so lucky, babe.”

[aajjks]

Broke Boy, Fake Girlfriend (m)

synopsis. Your annoying roommate, Jungkook’s shameless fake dating act goes hilariously wrong when he thinks he can charm you into paying for his café splurge, but you turn the tables with some dangerously sweet flirtation.

pairings: jungkook x fem!reader.

genre: 18+, crack, roommate au.

warnings: 18+, fâkë dätïng tròpë, châôtïc flïrtïng, brókë bøy Jûngkook, tëâsïng, ëmbârrássïng mômënts, önë-sïdëd crùsh, pûblïc hümïlïâtïön, pówër shïft, hëâvy tënsïön, tëâsïng bântër, spïcy flïrtâtïön, crïngë mômënts, slöw bûrn.

note. I can’t thank you guys enough for so much love on the both parts so I thought maybe I should give you another one. Also, I found this GIF on Pinterest so credits to owner And Let’s just hope you guys would like this as well and tell me what do you think of the chaos and y’all can talk to him whenever you want. ENJOY.

“My girlfriend will pay for this.”

How do you always end up in this situation?

You blink.

You’re standing in line at a café, hands casually tucked in your pockets, minding your own business when those words hit you like a freight train.

Jungkook’s standing at the counter, a devilish grin plastered across his face, watching you with those damn puppy dog eyes. His tattooed hand casually gestures to you, like this whole scenario is as normal as breathing.

The barista, the one who’s been shamelessly flirting with him this entire time, looks back and forth between you two, her cheeks flushed pink.

“Oh—;” she giggles, voice breathy. “That’s so sweet of you.”

Sweet.

Sweet would be not dragging you into his latest ridiculous plan just because he’s broke again after spending all his money on gaming skins and who knows what else.

You narrow your eyes at him. He doesn’t even flinch.

“Yeah, my baby’s got me,” Jungkook hums, stretching lazily against the counter, his hoodie pulling up just enough to reveal a tantalizing glimpse of toned abs. Intentional. “She takes such good care of me.”

You swear you could hear the little pitter-patter of his fan club forming in the background.

‘My baby?’

You grit your teeth, gripping your wallet like it might suddenly escape your clutches. “You—;” you inhale, trying to remain calm. “I’m paying?”

“Obviously.” Jungkook doesn’t even hesitate.

God, he’s insufferable.

“Since when are we dating?”

Jungkook gasps.

Gasped.

He puts his hand on his heart, pretending to be hurt and makes a dramatic expression that makes you almost cringe.

“Babe. What do you mean?” His voice cracks with that exaggerated hurt, and you can’t help but roll your eyes.

The barista giggles again, and you can see the sparkles in her eyes as she watches this whole ridiculous exchange.

Jungkook still has that pleading look, trying to play it off like you’re the one at fault for not realizing you were in the middle of his latest fake-dating fantasy.

You both know he’s out of cash and desperate.

He can’t possibly pay for this.

You should say no. You should do the right thing.

You should humiliate him right here in front of the cute barista and walk away, satisfied in your moral high ground.

But then—

“I’d get her anything off the menu,” Jungkook sighs, voice dropping an octave, his gaze lingering on your lips like he’s about to pull the most dramatic move of the century.

“She’s my princess. My world.”

Oh no.

Oh, he thinks you won’t play along.

And that—that little shit—that’s when you realize.

Jungkook’s not just doing the broke, flirting for sympathy… act. No, he’s flipping the script. He’s going full-on fake boyfriend mode.

He’s giving you those eyes, the ones that usually make girls melt on the spot.

His voice is suddenly, smooth and heavy, like he actually wants this to be real.

And then? The barista is still watching.

Oh, you know exactly what he’s doing.

You step closer, fingers lightly brushing against his chest as you lean in, your lips barely a whisper from his ear.

He freezes, clearly not prepared for the full-on flirtation storm that’s coming his way.

“Kookieee,” you say, voice dripping with saccharine sweetness. “Of course, I’m paying for my baby.”

Jungkook’s eyes go wide, and he makes this little sound—like he’s actually short-circuiting. He’s malfunctioning, visibly thrown off by how casually you’re playing along.

The barista is living for this. She’s practically sparkling now, too, and you know she’s ready to ship this fake couple straight to the moon.

But Jungkook? Jungkook’s dying.

He’s still standing there, mouth hanging slightly open, blinking rapidly like he needs to reset his brain, but you’re not done yet.

You lean in just a little bit more, hand still firmly placed against his chest, pressing your body close enough to feel the heat radiating from him.

His breathing gets heavier, a little shaky. And then you make your move.

You brush your fingers down his shirt, just enough to tease him, watching the way his whole body locks up, like he’s trying not to make a scene.

He doesn’t move. Doesn’t say a word. He just stands there like the world’s hottest, most embarrassed mess.

“Oh, you’re so cute when you’re all flustered,” you murmur, leaning back slightly to get a good look at him, your fingers brushing his jaw.

His skin is so warm, so soft, and it’s making your whole body heat up.

Fuck, he’s cute.

Jungkook doesn’t even try to respond— he’s too busy replaying every single moment you’ve touched him in the last few seconds, and he’s mentally begging for you to finish the job.

He’s literally so embarrassing, but for the first time in your life, you had fun embarrassing him.

You take a step back, giving him just a little space. He’s still staring at you like you’ve just turned his life upside down.

Good. You’ve won.

“Let’s play, babe,” you say with a smirk, voice lighter now. He’s completely melting.

You swipe your card, taking your drinks.

You turn toward the door, but before you leave, you lean in one last time, brushing past him just close enough for your lips to graze his ear.

Oh, this is fun.

“You owe me, babe,” you whisper.

And with that, you leave him there, dazed, red-faced, and completely undone, just standing there like a mess in front of the barista, who is looking at him like she’s just witnessed an angel descend from heaven.

You walk out of the café like you’ve just done your civic duty in the most chaotic, teasing way possible. The power is all yours.

Victory. And Jungkook? Well, he’s got a lot to think about.

And a raging boner to take care of.

[animamii]

Angels Get Their [Chicken] Wings | Toji Fushiguro

another au origin story of lockedup!toji x sweetheart!reader

︶ ͡ ۫ ˓꒰ ʚᄋɞ ꒱˒ ۫ ͡ ︶︶ ͡ ۫ ˓꒰ ʚᄋɞ ꒱˒ ۫ ͡ ︶︶ ͡ ۫ ˓꒰ ʚᄋɞ ꒱˒ ۫ ͡ ︶︶ ͡ ۫ ˓꒰ ʚᄋɞ ꒱˒ ۫ ͡

The air is thick with smoke and cheap perfume, the low hum of music vibrating through the dimly lit club. Toji slouches in a worn leather chair, one arm draped over the back, the other nursing a glass of bourbon. Swirling it absentmindedly. His dark eyes flick lazily over the girls twirling on stage, their slow, sultry movements barely holding his attention. He’s seen it all before.

Then he notices her.

Perched on one of the high chairs near the bar, she sticks out like a sore thumb—like a goddamn angel who took a wrong turn and ended up in hell. A cute little outfit hugs her figure, sweet but entirely out of place. She’s not here for the show; she’s not vying for attention or throwing cash. No, she’s eating. Picking at a plate of food like she’s sitting at a cozy diner instead of a dingy strip club.

Toji furrows his brows, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "The hell is a girl like that doin’ in a place like this?"

Curiosity burns through the haze of bourbon, and before he even registers it, he’s on his feet. Moving like a predator with no real prey, he saunters over, his heavy boots making little noise against the sticky floor. He leans against the table she's sat at, tilting his head as he takes her in up close.

"You lost, sweetheart?" His voice is low, rough with amusement. "Don’t think I’ve ever seen someone eat a damn meal in a place like this."

She looks up at him with wide, innocent eyes, lips still wrapped around a forkful of food, and Toji suddenly wonders if he just found the most interesting thing in this whole damn club. She blinks up at him, chewing slowly, as if genuinely processing his words. Toji watches as she swallows, then dabs at the corner of her mouth with a napkin before answering.

“Well,” she starts, her voice light and sweet—too sweet for a place like this. “The food here is actually really good.”

Toji’s brows lift. He wasn’t expecting that. He expected nervousness, maybe even fear. But this girl? She just smiles at him, unbothered, like he’s not some imposing stranger who’s way too interested in her presence.

“You eat at strip clubs often?” he asks, leaning a little closer, forearm resting on the table. The scene is oh so contrasting, Toji facing the shadows, face barely visible in the dimness. Whereas her face seemed to glow under the slowly strobing-colored lights that shined towards her. Toji swears he can see a halo floating above her head.

She shrugs, taking another bite. “Not all of them. But this place? Their wings are top tier. Plus, the make the best fried pickles in town.” A dimply smile appears on her face as she pops a fried pickle chip into her mouth.

Toji lets out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “Cute.” He watches her, amused by the way she swings her legs absentmindedly, so damn comfortable in a setting that should have chewed her up and spit her out.

“You come here alone?” he asks, scanning the room out of habit. He doesn’t see anyone watching her, no jealous boyfriend or overprotective friend lurking in the shadows.

She nods, cheeks full from another bite of food. “Mhm.”

He scoffs amusedly, lip tugging to one side with a smirk. “You got a death wish or somethin’?”

She tilts her head, expression still impossibly sweet. “Why? You gonna kill me?”

Toji grins, sharp and wolfish. “Nah, sweetheart. But not everyone in a place like this is as nice as me.” She giggles at that, and Toji swears it’s the most out-of-place sound he’s ever heard in this dingy club. Like a damn bell ringing in a haunted house.

“Nice?” she teases. “That’s not the vibe you give off.”

Toji smirks, amused by her boldness. Most people knew better than to poke at him like that. But here she was, all soft edges and sweet smiles, like she had no idea who she was talking to. Or maybe she did and just didn’t care.

“That so?” he muses, swirling the bourbon in his glass. “Then what kinda vibe do I give off, sweetheart?”

She hums in thought, tapping a finger against her chin. “Hmm… dangerous.”

Toji grins. Smart girl.

“And yet, here you are, sittin’ all nice and comfy next to me.”

She shrugs again, unfazed. “I dunno. You don’t scare me.” Something dark and intrigued flickers in Toji’s eyes. She doesn’t scare easy, huh?

“You probably should be,” he murmurs, just loud enough for her to hear.

She just smiles, takes another bite of her food, and looks at him with those wide, innocent eyes. “But then we wouldn’t be having this fun conversation, would we?” Toji huffs out a laugh, shaking his head. Yeah, this girl? She’s trouble. Trouble wrapped up with a pretty pink bow.

Toji watches her, lips curling around the rim of his glass as he takes a slow sip of bourbon. She doesn’t squirm under his gaze. Doesn’t shy away like most would. Instead, she just keeps eating, twirling a fry between her fingers before popping it into her mouth. The damn audacity.

He sets his drink down with a heavy clink. “You always this bold, sweetheart?”

She grins, tilting her head slightly. “Only when I meet someone who piques my interest. There's something inter”

Toji chuckles, low and deep. Interesting. That’s a new one. He’s been called a lot of things—dangerous, terrifying, a goddamn nightmare—but never interesting.

“You got a name?” he asks, drumming his fingers against the bar.

She hums, lifting her drink to her lips, it's not even alcoholic, just a shirley temple with too much syrup. “Maybe.”

His smirk widens. Oh, she’s playing with him now.

“You’re a little tease, huh?” He leans in, just enough to make his presence impossible to ignore. She smells sweet—like strawberries and something warm, maybe sugar or dulce de leche. It’s all wrong for a place like this, too soft, too damn inviting.

She doesn’t move away. Just meets his gaze with those wide, curious eyes. “Would it kill you to be a gentleman and introduce yourself first?” Her pink lips turn into a small, almost teasing smile.

Toji lets out a sharp laugh, shaking his head. “Alright, sweetheart. Name’s Toji.”

She perks up, finally setting her fork down. “Toji… That’s a cool name.” For a second she looks him over, repeating his name in her mind. Toji, Toji, Toji... It has a nice ring to it.

“I know,” he drawls, a little cocky. “And you?”

She presses her lips together, as if debating whether to answer. Then, finally, she sighs dramatically. “I guess it’s only fair. I’m—”

A crash echoes from the back of the club, cutting her off.

Toji’s body tenses on instinct. He doesn’t even think—his hand goes to his waistband, brushing against the familiar weight of his weapon. Old habits die hard. With vigilant eyes he glances toward the noise, spotting some idiot getting shoved against a table, drinks spilling everywhere.

Just a bar fight. Nothing he needs to worry about.

But when Toji turns back, sweetheart is watching him with an unreadable expression. Not scared, not startled. Just… observing. Like she caught something interesting in that split second.

“You always this jumpy?” she asks, resting her chin on her hand.

Toji snorts, letting his shoulders relax. “Tch. Habit.”

She hums like she’s not fully convinced but doesn’t push. Instead, she picks up her plate again, casually continuing her meal.

Toji leans back, eyeing her with something akin to amusement and curiosity. “You’re real calm for a girl sittin’ next to a guy like me.”

She giggles. That sound again. Soft, light, so fucking out of place. “Maybe I just trust my gut,” she says simply, the prettiest smile on her face.

Toji raises a brow. “And what’s it tellin’ you?” In all honesty he's so confused by her. The soft, seemingly innocent way she looks, she's sweet and tender but isn't fazed by any of the maliciousness that radiates off of him. It freaks him out a bit.

She pops another fry into her mouth, then smiles at him like she’s got him all figured out. “That you’re dangerous, but not to me.”

Toji stares at her, something unreadable flickering in his dark eyes. Then, after a beat, he lets out a low, rumbling laugh. “Sweetheart, you got no idea what kinda trouble you’re askin’ for.”

"Ohhh I think I know exactly what kind of trouble you are, Toji." Her voice is like sugar to him, and he's waiting for the next time he gets to hear his name roll of her tongue in that candied drawl.

Toji watches her, a slow smirk tugging at his lips. This girl is something else. Most people—smart people—would have taken one look at him and kept their distance. But here she is, sipping her sugary drink like she’s not sitting next to a man who could snap her in half without breaking a sweat.

He leans in just slightly, elbows resting on the bar, voice dropping into something lower, something meant to dig under her skin.

“You got a thing for danger, sweetheart?” She must have if she's in a shady place like this, even if it's for their damn good lemon pepper and parmesan wings.

She doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t shrink back. Instead, she taps her fingers against her glass, girly acrylics making soft sounds against the cup. Long lashes fluttering, her eyes twinkling with amusement. “Maybe,” she muses. “Or maybe I’m just good at knowing who’s worth being scared of.”

Toji huffs out a laugh. Cocky little thing. “And you decided I ain’t?”

"Yup, my intuition is telling me that I'm safe. Don't gotta thing to worry about when it comes to ya, I feel it in my heart," she places her dainty hand over her chest.

"That so?" Something inside of Toji softens as she says that.

She nods, completely sure of herself.

Toji leans back, his smirk slowly fading into a more genuine, intrigued expression. Her confidence in trusting him—of all people—was both surprising and... refreshing. It was rare for anyone, especially someone like her, to feel that way in his presence. Most people would’ve sensed the danger, the raw unpredictability that lingered around him. But not her. She was too calm, too sure of herself, and he couldn't quite figure out if that was a foolish move or the sweetest thing he’d ever seen.

His gaze softens ever so slightly as he watches her, the flickering lights casting a warm glow on her face, making her seem almost untouchable. The contrast between them—the dangerous aura he exuded, and the sweetness she carried—was something he couldn't look away from.

"You sure about that?" he asks quietly, eyes locking onto hers.

She smiles that little, too-sweet smile of hers, the one that seems to carry a secret she’s not sharing, and nods again. “I trust my gut. It’s never wrong.”

Before he can press her further, the bartender swings by, wiping down the counter. “You botherin’ my best customer, Fushiguro?”

Toji barely spares the guy a glance, eyes still fixated on her. “Tch. She don’t seem too bothered.”

The bartender shakes his head, chuckling. “She’s here every week. Sits right there, eats her food, minds her business.” He glances at her, amused. “But looks like she made a friend tonight.”

Toji hums, rolling his glass between his fingers. “That right?”

She just smiles, unfazed. “Maybe.”

The bartender chortles, moving away, and Toji lets the silence stretch between them for a moment. Then he rests his chin in his palm, watching her with something between curiosity and amusement.

“You really come here for the food, huh?” Toji looks down to see her little feast, a bunch of appetizers. Wings and fried pickles, mozzarella sticks and fries.

She nods. “Mhm.”

He chuckles. “Not the entertainment?”

She glances toward the stage, where a girl is languidly spinning around the pole. “That too,” she admits, shrugging. “They work hard. It’s kinda nice to just sit and watch.”

"I don't think I've ever heard someone admire strippers in that kind of way," Toji chuckles again, shaking his head as he takes another sip of his drink. He’s starting to see her in a new light. Most people came to places like this to get lost in the chaos, to escape. But her? She seemed like she was here for the simplicity of it all, for the food and the show, without all the mess that came with it.

"It takes a lot of skill and strength to do something like pole dancing and stripping. Both physical and mental. Plus they dress really pretty," a small, admiring smile sits on her lips and she watches the girls dance on stage.

“You got a good head on your shoulders,” he remarks, watching her with a newfound softness. “You're too kind. Not many people like you would last long in a place like this, especially not alone. You don't seem like you belong here.” Toji's eyes flicker over her again. She looks fresh as a daisy, perfect in this place full of weeds.

She meets his gaze, her expression soft but unwavering. “Maybe I don’t,” she agrees. “But I like to think everyone belongs somewhere, even if it’s somewhere unexpected.”

Toji tilts his head, intrigued by her answer. Most people would be rattled by the place, maybe even scared, but she wasn’t. She wasn’t scared of him either. That was... new. “You really not worried about me?” he asks, leaning in just slightly.

She just smiles, a little mischievous now. “You don’t scare me, Toji. I told you. I trust my gut.” Something stirs in him at her words. A strange warmth mixed with a flicker of respect. Her confidence—it wasn’t arrogance, it wasn’t naive—there was something genuine about it, something he couldn’t quite put his finger on.

He leans back again, eyes never leaving her. “You're somethin' else, sweetheart.”

She grins, dipping a fried pickle into ranch, “Guess we both are.”

The night drags on, the club’s atmosphere shifting into something hazier, maybe even a little shadier. The lights dim further, the music slows, and the crowd thins to the usual stragglers—lonely men nursing cheap drinks, exhausted dancers collecting tips, sniffers going to do lines in the bathroom, and the occasional drunk stumbling toward the exit.

But she is still here. Sweetheart. Sitting pretty, sipping her drink, looking like she belongs in a cozy café rather than this rundown joint.

And Toji? He’s still watching her.

He isn’t sure why he hasn’t walked away yet. Maybe it’s the way she’s completely unbothered by him. Maybe it’s the way her voice lingers in the air, light and teasing, a stark contrast to everything he’s used to. Or maybe he just likes the idea of something soft sitting so close to something dangerous.

“So,” he muses, resting his forearm on the tabletop as he angles himself toward her. “What’s a sweetheart like you do when you’re not sittin’ in a place like this?” Toji had never cared to get to know people—hated it honestly—but he was oh so curious about what this pretty little thing does when she's not in an ugly place like this.

She hums, tapping her nails against her glass. “You mean, when I’m not eating overpriced wings in a strip club?”

Toji smirks. “Somethin’ like that.”

Leaning back slightly, her doe eyes flicker to the stage where one of the last dancers of the night is finishing up. “I work, go to school. I read. I go out sometimes.” She glances at him, lips quirking. “Nothing as exciting as whatever you do though.”

Toji's eyes widen for a split second before he chuckles, low and deep. “You say that like you know what I do.”

She tilts her head, playful but observant. “I have a pretty good guess.” Plump, pink lips wrap around her straw as she takes a long sip of the drink that's just as sweet as her.

“Oh yeah?” Shifting closer, Toji rests his chin in his palm. “Let’s hear it, then.”

A slow exhale leaves her lungs, watching him like she’s trying to piece together a puzzle. “You carry yourself like someone who’s always watching his back. You sit where you can see the whole room. You don’t like people sneakin’ up on you.” She twirls the straw in her drink. “You’re dangerous but controlled. Not reckless. So… I’d say you’re either in some very shady business, or you used to be.”

Toji just stares at her for a moment. Then, a slow grin stretches across his lips.

“Well, shit,” he mutters, letting out a short laugh. “Ain’t you a sharp little thing?”

She returns his grin, taking another sip of her drink. “So I was right?”

Leaning in, Toji's voice dips low. “Maybe.”

A satisfied hum vibrates through her chest. “Figured.”

The bartender passes by again, wiping down the counter, and Toji takes the opportunity to order another drink—for her this time. She blinks when the fresh glass is slid in front of her, tilting her head in question. It looks just like the shirley temple she was sipping on earlier, but lingers with the scent of vodka.

Toji just smirks. “On me, sweetheart.”

She raises a brow, but there’s amusement dancing in her eyes. “Oh? And what do I owe you in return?”

Toji taps his fingers against the wooden table, watching her with something unreadable. “Just keep talkin’ to me.” Her lips curl, and Toji swears it’s the most dangerous thing he’s seen all night.

“Deal.”

The drink sits between her fingers, untouched for a moment as she studies him. The club hums around them, but Toji barely notices anymore. The distant bass, the murmured conversations, the occasional clink of glass—it all fades into the background. All he sees is her.

“So,” she starts, picking the vodka-soaked maraschino cherry out of the glass. “You gonna tell me one of those stories now?” Dangling it a bit, she takes a bite, the syrup and vodka dripping from her lip, which she quickly licks with a swipe of her tongue.

Toji smirks, resting his chin in his palm. It almost looks adoring, really. “That eager to know my business, sweetheart?”

Leaning in slightly, she mirrors his posture, her expression playful but steady. “You offered.”

Damn. She got him there.

He exhales through his nose, debating how much he wants to give away. He could make something up, spin a little tale, see if she’d buy it. But for some damn reason, he doesn’t feel like lying to her.

“Hm.” He rolls his glass between his fingers. “Alright. I’ll give you somethin’ light.”

She perks up, smiling as she props her elbow on the bar. “I’m listening.”

Toji lets out a low chuckle, shaking his head as he swirls the remaining bourbon in his glass. The amber liquid catches the dim light of the club, casting warm reflections against his fingers. “There was this job once,” he starts, his voice slow and unhurried, like he’s savoring the memory. “Some rich asshole wanted a guy handled. Nothing fancy, just in and out. Easy money.”

She hums, propping her elbow on the table as she watches him with interest. “And?”

Toji lifts his glass to his lips, taking a slow sip before setting it down with a deliberate clink. His eyes gleam with amusement. “And it was easy… until the guy’s wife walked in.”

Chin resting in her palms, her brows lift, interest sparking in her expression. “Oh?”

Toji huffs out another chuckle, rubbing his jaw as if he can still feel the impact of what happened next. “Yeah. She was holdin’ a fuckin’ frying pan. Came swingin’ at me like she was in a damn action movie.”

Her reaction is instant—she gasps, covering her mouth with her fingers, but it does nothing to muffle the laughter spilling out. “No way.”

“Toji’s honor,” he says with a lazy smirk, lifting a hand like he’s swearing on it. “Damn near cracked my skull open. Had to duck real quick.”

She’s still laughing, shaking her head in disbelief. “That’s ridiculous.”

He shrugs, unfazed. “Hey, love makes people do crazy shit.”

She tilts her head, resting her chin against her palm, still grinning. “And what happened after that?”

Toji snickers, rubbing a hand over his jaw before reaching for his drink again. “Left the guy tied up, made my exit, and let the missus deal with him.” He takes another sip, savoring the heat before adding, “Never took a job on a married man again. Too much trouble.”

She’s still grinning, shaking her head in disbelief. “That’s actually kinda funny. You know, that kinda reminds me of this movie.”

"You talkin' bout Tangled, sweetheart?"

She blinks, caught completely off guard. “Wait—you’ve seen Tangled?” There’s a tinge of surprise in her voice, like she can’t quite picture him—a towering, scarred, broad-shouldered hitman—sitting through a Disney movie.

Toji shrugs like it’s no big deal. “’Course I did.” He glances down at his drink before muttering, “Really like that green fella, the lizard.”

Her lips part before a laugh bubbles up. “The chameleon?”

“Yeah, whatever the fuck he is.” He waves a hand dismissively before taking another drink. “I like ‘em.”

She shakes her head, still giggling. “I just… I can’t believe you sat through an entire Disney movie.”

Toji smirks, looking her over with a lazy kind of amusement. “What, big bad Toji can’t enjoy a damn cartoon?”

She grins, tilting her head playfully. “I dunno. Just figured you’d be more of a Godfather or Scarface kinda guy.”

He snorts. “Yeah, well, even a guy like me needs somethin’ lighthearted every now and then.” He gives her a pointed look. “Not like I got a lotta folks sittin’ me down for movie night.”

Her smile softens just a little, something unreadable flickering in her expression. Then, she perks up, grinning again. “Well, since we’re already on Disney movies, I’m dying to know—what’s your opinion on The Lion King?”

Toji exhales through his nose, shaking his head. “Ain’t even gonna start with that one. That movie’s got more family trauma than me.”

She bursts out laughing again, and for a second, Toji just watches her, something warm curling in his chest. He likes the way she laughs—soft but full, like she’s not just being polite. Most people look at him and see something to fear. Something sharp and dangerous. But her? She's over here talking Disney movies with him.

“So,” he finally drawls, stretching his long legs out. “My turn.”

Her laughter fades into a curious hum as she blinks, tilting her head slightly. “Your turn?”

Toji straightens just a bit, his elbows still resting on the table as his scarred lip curls up. “Yeah. Told you a story. Now you owe me one.”

She hesitates for the first time all night, lips parting slightly before pressing together. Toji catches it—the flicker of uncertainty, like she’s debating whether she should play along.

Then, after a beat, she sighs dramatically. “Fine. But I don’t have any stories about frying pans and hit jobs.”

Toji chuckles, low and rough, shifting slightly in his seat. “I’ll take what I can get, sweetheart.”

She hums in thought, tapping her nails lightly against her glass before her gaze flicks back to his. There’s something playful there, something challenging. Then, after a moment, she leans in, lowering her voice like she’s about to tell him a secret. “Okay… how about this?” Her lips quirk. “Once, I walked into a bar, and this really dangerous man bought me a drink.”

Toji snorts, shaking his head. “Real funny.”

She grins, clearly pleased with herself. “It’s still happening, so I haven’t figured out how it ends yet.”

There’s something about the way she says it—something light, teasing, but with just enough truth underneath to make him pause. He watches her carefully, studying the way she tilts her head, the way her fingers absentmindedly trace the condensation on her glass. There’s no fear in her eyes, no hesitation, just that same quiet curiosity that’s been there since the moment he first spotted her in this place.

“That so?” he murmurs amused, voice dipping lower.

She nods, slow and deliberate, lifting her glass slightly in a silent toast. “Guess I’ll just have to stick around and see.”

Toji huffs out a quiet laugh, shaking his head as he leans back in his seat. Trouble. This girl is pure trouble.

The club is quieter now, the air thick with the lingering scent of alcohol and now faded perfume. The neon lights overhead flicker intermittently, casting an uneven glow over the bar. Most of the patrons have trickled out, leaving only the stragglers—some finishing their drinks, others too lost in inebriated conversations to notice the late hour.

Toji stretches, rolling his shoulders before settling back into his seat. He’s still watching her, the pretty little thing sitting across from him, grinning like she doesn’t have a care in the world. Like she isn’t sitting next to someone most people would cross the street to avoid.

He taps his empty glass against the counter once before looking at her. “Guess it’s gettin’ late, huh?”

Following his gaze to the clock on the far wall, her doe eyes slightly widen as she makes a soft noise of surprise. “Damn. I didn’t even notice.”

“Too busy enjoyin’ my company, sweetheart?” Toji can't help but smirk for the umpteenth time that night.

She rolls her eyes but doesn’t deny it. “You’re entertaining, I’ll give you that.”

He chuckles, running a hand through his dark hair. “Flatter me any more, and I might start thinkin’ you like me.”

Tilting her head, she watches him with that same mischievous glint she’s had all night. “And if I did?”

Toji holds her gaze, the corner of his mouth twitching slightly. He could play it off, tease her right back, but for some reason, he doesn’t. Instead, he lets the moment settle, the air between them thick with something unspoken.

Then, finally, he exhales, grabbing a few bills from his pocket and tossing them onto the counter. “C’mon. I’ll walk you out.”

She raises a brow. “What, afraid I can’t make it to the door on my own?”

“Nah,” Toji says, standing up and stretching lazily. “Just wanna make sure no one else tries to scoop up my company before I’m done with ‘em.”

An airy laugh leaves her lips as she shakes her head, but she slides off the stool anyway. As they make their way toward the exit, Toji’s hand naturally finds its place at the small of her back—not pushing, not pulling, just there. A quiet kind of possessiveness, the kind that says he’s keeping an eye on her, whether she needs it or not.

Outside, the night air is cool against her skin, a sharp contrast to the warmth of the club. The street is nearly empty, the distant hum of traffic the only real sound cutting through the quiet.

She takes a deep breath, looking up at the sky. “You know,” she muses, “I don’t usually stay out this late.”

Toji hums, lighting up a cigarette and taking a slow drag. “Yeah? What made tonight different?” He finally gets a good look at her. How tiny she looks compared to him, her arms wrapping around herself as she shields herself from the soft breeze of the late night.

She glances at him, something playful yet sincere in her expression. “Guess I just wanted to see how this story ends.”

Toji exhales a slow stream of smoke, watching her through half-lidded eyes. “And?”

She smiles. “Still figuring it out.”

Toji shakes his head, smirking as he flicks ash from the end of his cigarette. “You’re trouble, sweetheart.”

She grins, and Toji finds it fucking adorable. “Yeah, well… I think you like trouble.”

He chuckles, low and rough, before nudging her forward. “Go on, get home before you really start testing that theory.”

She takes a step back, watching him like she’s committing him to memory. Then, with a playful little salute, she turns on her heel and walks off into the night.

Toji watches her go, taking one last slow drag of his cigarette before huffing out a laugh. He realizes he didn't get her name, but he knew he wanted to get into just a little more trouble with his little sweetheart.

︶ ͡ ۫ ˓꒰ ʚᄋɞ ꒱˒ ۫ ͡ ︶︶ ͡ ۫ ˓꒰ ʚᄋɞ ꒱˒ ۫ ͡ ︶︶ ͡ ۫ ˓꒰ ʚᄋɞ ꒱˒ ۫ ͡ ︶︶ ͡ ۫ ˓꒰ ʚᄋɞ ꒱˒ ۫ ͡

another meet cute but I triedddd to make reader more softer. keyword 'tried' bc I always love when she keeps up with Toji. oh whaleeee!

[ditzydoe444]

Okay okay, but Jason and Roy do one hell of a good cop bad cop routine. Mean!Jason all the way, Roy is a sucker and can't resist her puppy dog eyes. Especially during sex when Jason is hell bent on edging her the whole night, Roy will push him aside to make her cum and put her out of her misery. He'll cuddle her while she sobs and shakes, glaring at Jason for "being mean". I love this kind of combo, Jason sluts her out while Roy make sweet love

MDNI 18+

“m-mph need to come!” you whined as jason gripped your hips tightly as he fucked your cunt from behind, having you bent over the edge of the mattress.

you tried to move to match his thrusts to get some sort of release, but he shoved you back down on the mattress with his hand on the back of your head. “don’t even dare, you’ll come when i let ya,” he grunted as he fucked you like a toy.

jason has been edging you for the past few minutes, denying you of your orgasm, watching as your swollen folds take him in and beg for a release.

“let the poor girl come jay, you’ve done enough,” roy’s low voice cuts in as he sat on the edge of the bed, next to you as he fisted his cock.

“nah, she’s been bratty and demanding she’ll learn her fucking lesson,” jason grumbled as his thrusts picked up, your whines increasing as you sobbed onto the mattress.

“ it’s my turn, you’ve taken double already,” roy speaks as he shifted his position. jason groaned, the two would usually take turns, being polar opposites as jason would edge you until you broke whilst roy would kiss your tears away.

jason pulled out, watching the way your puffy folds clenched around nothing. he sat back on the edge of the bed where roy was and began fisting his cock, watching roy slide into your pussy.

“n-ngh so sore,” you mumbled as drool dribbled down your chin.

“i know baby, i know, ill take care of you yeah?” roy reassured softly as he gently brushed the hair covering your face before thrusting into you.

“uh-h,” you moaned as he hits all of your soft spots, the mattress creaking.

his thrusts weren’t harsh and punishing like jason but more determined to make you come after being edged.

“m-mph!” you whined as your hands gripped the sheets tugging it. “i’m gonna cum roy,” you mumbled as your body went limp on the mattress, roy’s thrusts getting harder.

“come sweetheart,” he whispered softly, gently squeezing your lower stomach coaxing your release. in a matter of seconds you came hard, coating his cock with your slick.

he pulled out, coming onto his hands as he pumped himself. “i’ll go clean you up yeah?” he gently tapped your ass as you laid bent over the mattress like before.

roy returned back to the room with a towel, gently wiping you down before throwing the towel away. “hey you there?” he whispered softly as he gently nudged to you coax you out of whatever headspace you were in.

“tried roy,” you mumbled as snuggled deeper into the mattress burying your face.

“i know, just let me carry you to bed properly ok? you’ll get sore bent like this.”

slowly, roy carried you in his arms before placing you down on the mattress cuddling you in his strong arms. you were a mess to say the least. the way you were shaking with tears welling up in your eyes displayed how overstimulated you were.

whilst you snuggled in his arms as he rubbed comforting circles on your back as you cried he glared at jason. roy was always softer, treating you like a princess in bed whilst jason was the total opposite.

[zeroseuniverse]

My Dad Is Single!

Word Count: 643 Summary: "You should date him. He's very handsome. Like a prince! And he makes really good pancakes!" Pairing: Single dad s.coups X Fem Nurse reader

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S.Coups had been through a lot in his life. He'd survived years in the music industry, guided twelve chaotic members through countless debuts and comebacks, and endured the existential crisis that came with turning thirty. But nothing—absolutely nothing—compared to being the father of a six-year-old girl who had just woken up from surgery and was completely loopy on pain meds.

"Hey, ma'am," his daughter, Haneul, whispered dramatically to the nurse standing by her bedside. She squinted at the woman as if she were plotting something grand. "You're really pretty."

The nurse, a kind-looking woman with a warm smile, chuckled as she checked Haneul’s IV. "Well, thank you, sweetheart. That's very sweet of you."

S.Coups, who had been sitting at the edge of the hospital bed, rubbing his temples, immediately sensed danger. His dad instincts were never wrong.

"Haneul, sweetheart—"

"My dad is single!" she blurted out before he could stop her. "You should date him. He's very handsome. Like a prince! And he makes really good pancakes!"

S.Coups groaned, slumping forward dramatically while the nurse let out a surprised laugh. His face felt like it was on fire. "Haneul… we talked about this. You can’t just—"

"He’s lonely," his daughter continued with a very serious nod. "He watches sad movies at night and sighs a lot."

The betrayal. The absolute betrayal.

The nurse raised an amused eyebrow, looking between the little girl and the mortified man beside her. "Is that so?"

"No, it is not so!" S.Coups finally found his voice. "I don’t sigh that much."

"You do," Haneul insisted. "You sigh when you fold my laundry. You sigh when you help me with math. You sigh when grandpa asks why you're still single."

S.Coups groaned again and dropped his head into his hands while the nurse struggled to hold in her laughter. He had never wished for a hole to open up and swallow him whole more than he did in this moment.

The nurse patted Haneul’s hand gently. "Well, your dad sounds like a great man. But I’m sure he’s perfectly happy just taking care of his wonderful little girl."

Haneul gasped dramatically, gripping the nurse's wrist like she had just heard the most tragic news in the world. "But he needs love!"

"Oh my God," S.Coups muttered, looking up at the ceiling like it might offer him divine intervention.

The nurse gave him a playful look. "Well, I suppose if he ever needs dating advice, he knows who to ask."

S.Coups sighed for what felt like the millionth time that day, shooting his daughter a deadpan look. "See? Now you've scared her away."

Haneul only giggled sleepily, her eyelids starting to droop again. "I just want you to be happy, Appa."

And just like that, his frustration melted away. He reached out to gently tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. "I am happy, Haneul-ah. Because I have you."

She gave him a drowsy smile before her eyes finally fluttered shut. He exhaled in relief, running a hand through his hair before glancing at the nurse, who was still grinning at him.

"Sorry about that," he mumbled. "She's, uh… a little too invested in my love life."

The nurse laughed, shaking her head. "She’s adorable. And she clearly loves you a lot." She paused, then added teasingly, "And for the record, I do like pancakes."

S.Coups blinked, completely caught off guard. "I—what?"

She just winked at him before making a note in Haneul’s chart. "I'll be back to check on her in a little while. Try not to sigh too much in the meantime."

S.Coups sat there, stunned, as she walked out of the room. Then he looked down at his sleeping daughter, shaking his head with a small smile.

"Unbelievable," he muttered, chuckling softly. "She's really my kid, huh?"

[kurooangel]

₊˚⊹  babysitting .ᐟ

featuring       ᰔ  kuroo tetsuro, miya atsumu, sakusa kiyoomi.

warnings       ᰔ  fluff. a baby piss on atsumu. characters on their early 20s. masterlist.

★ kuroo tetsuro ; his sister was busy and, well, he didn't mind spending time of his nephew. the only problem was that he doesn't has the slightest idea of how taking care of a year old baby. he runs a hand through his hair while he sees you feeding the baby, and he knows you're holding back a smug smile because of how stained of apple puree he is.

"how can you do it so good?" he groans, taking off his stained shirt. "because you have to do it with love, tetsu" you chuckle, making the airplane with the spoon for the baby. "I was doing it with love, but then that little devil throw me the spoon. the full spoon" he throws his shirt in the wash machine and stays beside you, watching how you seem so natural with his nephew. "wanna try again?" you say softly, a sweet smile on your face that he can't resist. kuroo takes the spoon from your hand and gently approaches it to his nephew, who starts crying and throws him the full spoon again, cheek and abs stained with puree. "okay, I get it, he hates me"

★ miya atsumu ; he was extremely happy about having a nephew. osamu didn't trust him at all to take care of his baby without messing anything up, but he needed to open the restaurant again and his wife needed to rest, so he trusted that you put some sense in his brother's head this while you've been dating.

"who is the cutest miya ever? that's right, me! but you're the second, don't worry" he says holding the baby. you were changing his nappy and while you were throwing it in the trash, he grabbed the baby and raised him in his arms. you snorted at his words and shook your head amused, but you raised an eyebrow when you saw his shocked face and his wet shirt. "did he...?" you hold back a laugh. "pissed on me? yeah, and he has great accuracy" he mumbles, paled face.

★ sakusa kiyoomi ; omi thinks babies are weird. tiny, silly, little humans who depend to everything and cry a lot. he didn't mind having your sister's baby at your place, tho. he looks from away, watching you play with him, and he makes eyes contact with the small girl. she giggles and crawls towards him, hugging his leg.

"hi" he says, an eyebrow arched and he glances you quickly, a silent ask for help. "omi omi!" your niece says, giggling at your boyfriend's name. he holds her, eyes squinted while she forms an 'o' with her mouth because of the sudden height. "do you like uncle kiyoomi?" you say playfully, leaning against his side. "tall! very high!" she laughs again. "she likes you" you kiss his cheek, and you tease with a soft smile. "so stop looking at her like she's an alien, this little thing is called a baby"

[blueberrisdove-sideblog]

soft dom phainon would heal all my pain and suffering 😮‍💨

ᕱ⑅ᕱ Warnings : nsfw/smut, p*ssy eating, shy fem!reader, daddy kink, reader is whiny asf, belly bulge, big dick Phainon, cream-pie, vaginal, doggy style, size kink, cocky phainon. ^_^

“Babyyy you feel sooo good…” Phainon moaned out loud, gripping on your hips. While thrusting his cock in you. His big length kissing your cervix.

Phainon's voice was steady, filled with quiet confidence. "Breathe for me, sweetheart," he murmured, his hand resting on your lower belly. The pressure was there, gentle but firm, as though he were grounding you. His presence surrounded you, warm and commanding, a mixture of affection and control.

"Good girl," he praised, his thumb tracing small circles on your skin as he adiusted his position, ensuring you were comfortable even while stretched by his presence. "You're taking this so well. I knew you could handle it"

Your breath hitched, body trembling under his touch. "D-Daddy," you whispered, your voice small and needy. The way his hands were on you, how they made you feel both safe and overwhelmed, left you unable to form coherent thoughts. "… I don't know if I can take more.”

Phainon's eyes softened, though there was still that quiet dominance in his gaze. "You're doing perfect, baby," he reassured, his voice gentle as he ran his fingers lightly over your belly, feeling the subtle shift beneath his hand. "You're stretchin’ for me, so beautifully. Don't worry. I won't push you too far.”

You could feel the way he filled you, how deep it went, and the pressure building in your stomach. There was a slight bulge now, an unmistakable reminder of how much he had given you, how much he was demanding.

But it wasn't uncomfortable—it was a strange, fulfilling sensation. Your body responded to him, each shift pulling you closer to the edge.

"You feel so perfect for me," Phainon whispered, his lips grazing your ear. "Yer mine, and I'm going to take care of you. Yeah? I won't let you break, but you have to trust me, okay?"

Phainon's gaze softened slightly, even with that cocky grin still playing on his lips. "Yer so good for me, baby," he murmured, his hands steady on your hips. "I can feel it—your body's beggin' for more." He shifted his weight, adjusting his position to add even more pressure, his voice dropping lower. "But don't worry, 'm gonna make sure you can take it. Just trust me."

You whimpered softly, a mix of frustration and pleasure rising in your chest as he moved with such control. Your breath quickened, your body responding to him without question. "I... I trust you," you managed to say, voice barely above a whisper.

He smiled at that, the cocky edge to his demeanor still there, but there was something deeper in his eyes now-something almost tender. "Good girl, he praised, the words sending a wave of warmth through you. "You're doin' great. Keep goin', just like that."

You could feel the pressure in your tummy, the fullness of him making everything seem so intense, yet somehow, it felt right. He moved with slow, steady thrusts, making sure you felt every inch of him. The way your body shifted with each movement made it impossible to think of anything else—just him, just the way he made you feel.

Phainon's hand slid down to your belly again, his fingers pressing lightly on the bulge that formed there. "Your so beautiful like this," he murmured. "Look at you, all stretched out for me. Ain't nobody else gonna get to see you like this. Just me"

His words lingered in your mind, your body responding with a mix of desire and something deeper-something rooted in trust, in the bond that was growing between you two. Even though the pressure was nearly overwhelming, there was no fear, only a quiet anticipation for whatever Phainon had in store next.

[plaidcowboy]

taking care of 𓂃 rafe cameron while he’s spiraling

⟳⠀ a little inebriated rafe ⟳⠀after an argument with ward

⊹ you blinked into the open space of your room, slowly collecting your coherence as you listened to the voice over the phone. it took a second to realize you were hearing rafe mumbling, not sounding like himself. you quickly jolted up in bed at his quiet, but frantic words.

“i just don’t get why everything i do goes unnoticed.. unappreciated. i saved him. she didn’t do anything but run off and betray us. i got the cross. i killed that sheriff for him. me, rafe.. i don’t understand what happened with us..”

it broke your heart to hear his voice crack. you nursed your phone against your cheek, letting him get everything out. where was he? did his words sound partially slurred or was that your still half asleep mind? but you were so glad he called you in a moment this vulnerable. after months of being with rafe, he had a habit of keeping his feelings in and not letting you into his mind. despite this, you constantly told him you were always there if he needed an outlet.

you heard a dry chuckle across the line. “he even tried to blame you. my precious girl.. does he know how much i didn’t know i needed you? he can’t even begin to understand the love we share. he doesn’t have someone to take care of him like you do with me. he crossed the line when he mentioned you.. i just lost it..”

you placed a hand over your mouth, letting his words and current state settle in. you couldn’t let yourself get focused on ward’s thoughts of you. you knew he wasn’t a good man. you knew he didn’t deserve rafe’s respect. after months of knowing this, and knowing the fights he and rafe got into, never was it like this. this truly was breaking you.

you softly sniffled, not realizing you were getting worked up. “it’s okay, baby. it’s okay to let out that frustration. i’m so proud of you for letting yourself feel it. i’m even prouder you called me. that’s so good, rafe.”

you heard him breathing over the line, not speaking for a second. you took this opportunity to find out his whereabouts.

“um.. do you know where you are right now? can you see any signs?” you got up, walking to your closet to throw on a jacket and slip on a pair of shoes, waiting for him to answer.

it was another second of silence before he responded quietly, prompting you to listen closer. “i needed to hear your voice. i know you told me you’d be an outlet, but i didn’t think i’d have to use that outlet, but i needed it..”

you paused after grabbing your keys, listening intently, clinging on to his every word.

“..i needed to hear you. that makes everything better. i can’t see you right now, and i can’t let you see me, but i needed to feel you somehow.”

you slightly panicked at rafe telling you, you couldn’t see him. “rafe, i already see you even if i physically can’t. but i would really like to see you. do you think you could tell me where you are, handsome?” you didn’t let your voice portray your desperation too much. you didn’t want to let him know he was worrying you. then, he really wouldn’t let you go near him. not if he knew he was making you scared.

you could hear chatter grow louder around him as he answered. “i..” he pushed out a heavy sigh. “..i’m not disappointing you, am i? because i.. i won’t tell you if you’re disappointed in me right now. i’ll fix it.. i’ll fix myself and give you time to think.. i can’t have you upset with me..” he voice broke off softly at the end.

you were out of your room and outside, heading towards your car as he finished his sentence. “rafe, i think it’s impossible for me to feel anything diminishing about you. that feeling doesn’t exist inside of me. there is nothing, rafe, you could do or say that would make me view you differently from the caring and gentle hearted man you are.”

you were pressing on the gas, making your way toward where you knew rafe was without him having to say it.

this time it was him that sniffled, and you couldn’t grip the wheel tighter at the sound. he affirmed your thought of his location after a beat of still silence from his side.

“this might be impossible for rafe cameron, but can you please stay still?” you softly chuckled, attempting to lighten the tone, panic easing from you now that you were making your towards him.

“yeah, i’ll try” was his muttered response.

you were pulling up to the restaurant a few minutes later, rushing out of your car and looking around for rafe.

it wasn’t long before you spotted him outside at a high rise table, his head hanging slighty over his arms that were pressed atop of the table. standing tall, and standing oddly still. doubt didn’t dawn on you that rafe would listen, but him literally holding himself still was something you weren’t expecting. you softly shook your head, walking up to him.

he saw you from his peripheral, but sensed you before he actually knew you were approaching. turning his head, his expression couldn’t seem to turn softer and his posture more relaxed.

his face started to crumble, and you quickly reached around him to pull him into a hug, tugging his head down to rest on your shoulder.

you couldn’t feel the clawing and gripping of his hands as he tried to hold you inhumanly closer. only relief that he was in your arms now, and not afar over the phone.

“i’m sorry..” he softly uttered into your top. “..i’m sorry you have to see me like this.. but it’s messed up that i don’t care. i needed to feel you, to touch you, even if it meant you seeing me this way..”

you dug your face into his side, willing your eyes to not produce the tears you felt coming on.

“i can’t.. i won’t let go. you’re gonna leave if i let go, and you can’t leave me. you can’t..”

he spoke so softly you knew it was a thought that he didn’t mean to say out loud.

you reared back, pulling up his head to face you. the sorrow in his eyes felt like the last tug at your heart to finally pull it from its strings.

“i’m never letting go, so you can’t.”

rafe’s arms came down, his hands both cupping over one of your hands. you took it as the sign rafe was ready to leave. was ready to only be near you.

you turned, walking back towards your car, feeling his hands tighten. you went to open the passenger side for rafe when he pulled you back, halting you.

you turned towards him to ask what was wrong when he pulled the back door open instead. he nodded his head into the opening, gesturing for you to climb in first. you did so, not once letting his hands slip from your one. rafe was right behind you, closing the door behind him.

you laid your legs out, letting him settle between them and rest himself against you. he was holding you up to your promise of never letting him go.

you wrapped your arms around him, listening to his breathing. he had done so much talking, it was time for you to return it.

“you’re perfect to me. for me. if no one else can see your worth, they’re not worth your time, rafe. there’s nothing for you to be sorry for. i am so, so glad you called me. it doesn’t hurt seeing you like this as much as it would hurt to know you were going through this alone. there’s nowhere i would rather be than right here with you.”

rafe settled closer into you, always needing to be so close to you it seemed as if you shared the same skin.

“i don’t need anyone but you. i only need you seeing me and really knowing me.. can you just hold me for right now? please.”

as if you would ever deny him. “of course. whatever you need.”

it was a second before you heard him mutter something, not aware he was responding to what you said.

“just you.”

ϧ𝑒ׅ ࣪

[dis-plus-fanfic-reblog-writes]

A/N: I need more of these stories. I think I’ve only read one similar and I can’t find the damn thing. I don’t know why but I love the idea of a healthy Logan with a pudgy tummy.

A/N2: I don’t know why I’m writing this but I am. If you want me to write more, you gotta tell me either comment or tell me in a reblog.

Wade and Logan share the pull out couch since Logan moved in, and Logan is laying on his back with his eyes closed while Wade is on his side looking at the wall. Neon light coming in from outside and Wade notices Logan’s stomach. He’s pudgy. He stares at it and Logan just feels him.

“What, Wade?”

Wade flinches. “What?” He tries to act groggy. “What?”

“Bub, I can hear you breathe. You ain’t been asleep,” he grouses, keeping his eyes closed.

Wade decides to take a leap. “Can I…can we cuddle?”

Logan turns and looks at him. “You ok?”

“Yeah, just, uh…Nevermind.” Wade rolls over to the other side, faced away. He can feel his face flush, embarrassed.

“Hey,” Logan coos and places his warm hand on Wade’s bicep.

Wade doesn’t respond.

“Yeah, kid, we can cuddle. Come ‘ere.” Logan opens his arms and Wade rolls right into them, nonchalantly bringing his hand down to partially cup Logan’s healthy pudgy tummy. He works to hide his smile, breathing in and out heavily, and he works to relax against the Wolverine. He mentally high fives himself for taking such good care of his Wolverine—three healthy meals a day, snacks, cutting down on the alcohol, taking him for walks, spending time and playing with him (AKA fighting and blood shed). Wade is just so happy.

Logan notices Wade’s scent quickly changes to a lighter, sweeter smell that somehow makes Wade’s natural scent more intense but not overwhelming. He has to stifle a purr with a cough.

“Need a glass of water, peanut?” Wade asks, quietly.

“Nah, I’m good. Sleep.” Logan turns into Wade, wrapping both arms around him. Wade sets one hand on Logan’s side, rubbing his thumb firmly but lightly against the side of Logan’s stomach. Logan finds it amusing.

When he wakes with the sun like always, he finds Wade and him are tangled up together, and for the first time, it doesn’t bother him. He doesn’t know why. He goes back to sleep, his nose buried against Wade’s bald head with Wade’s head on Logan’s shoulder.

This occurs again and again over the next few weeks where Wade just asks every couple of days to cuddle and when Logan who agrees, Wade just smells wonderful—just his happy self (not that Wade knows this; Logan doesn’t want to embarrass him).

One evening an hour or two after dinner, Logan is slouched on the couch as he watches The Golden Girls. Wade decides to try his chances and lays on the couch, putting his head on Logan’s stomach. Logan tenses, looking down at Wade who just looks at the tv. It is a long moment before Wade decides to break the tension. He turns slightly, looking at Logan. “This okay?”

Logan silently nods and rests his hand on Wade’s bicep while he drinks his beer and keeps watching the tv show.

Logan moving in with Wade and gaining weight because not only is he eating three square meals a day, but he also picked up baking because both Al and Wade have a sweet tooth, and of course the sweets are there, he’s going to eat them too. But now he’s getting kind of chubby. Which isn’t a problem really. He looks healthier than he has in decades. Except…

Wade stopped flirting with him. Straight up just stopped. And yeah Logan’s been ignoring it right along because he knows Wade isn’t actually serious about it, but it was still kind of nice to be wanted. Especially since he came from a reality where he was literally the most hated man alive. And of course now he has actual feelings for Wade, he wants the option to be there.

So he decides to not only start going to the gym but also to stop eating. And of course Wade notices and has to sit him down and ask what’s up, he’s been super healthy lately why is he changing that

And Logan can’t admit why he’s doing it so he deflects. “So going to the gym isn’t healthy?”

“You practically live there now. You’re a certified gym rat. You’re overworked and underfed. THAT isn’t healthy.”

And they go back and forth until Logan finally admits it’s because he gained weight and doesn’t feel attractive anymore. “Hell, you don’t even flirt with me anymore and I’ve seen you hit on inanimate objects before.”

And Wade stares at him for like 10 full seconds before he busts out laughing, like genuinely knee slapping chuckle fest because, “You think I stopped flirting with you because I’m shallow??? You honestly think I look like a burn victims even uglier ball sack and I’m being picky with how someone else looks?”

Logan tries to shrug it off with a “Everyone has preferences.”

“Trust me, Peanut, it isn’t that.”

“So then what is it?”

And now it’s Wade’s turn to be defensive until he realizes their conversation is just going in circles and Logan won’t stop destroying his body until he comes clean. So he has to stare at the wall as he tells Logan that it isn’t that he’s not attracted to Logan’s body anymore, it’s that he’s hyper attracted to it now, that he looks so healthy, so well fed, so inadvertently loved, and that it’s a reminder of all the domesticity of their situation that he’s actually fallen in love and can’t trust himself to casually flirt with Logan anymore because he’s genuinely afraid he’s going to do something and ruin their friendship now.

And they make out sloppy style and confess their love to each other of course

[lovecla]

MAKE IT TO THE MORNING ; JACK HUGHES

PAIR jack hughes x fem!reader

SUMMARY being jack hughes’ girlfriend comes with a lot of hardships— but in the mornings, you realize it is all worth it.

WARNINGS unedited, p in v, unprotected sex, oral sex (f. receiving), rough sex, p slapping, cockwarming, dirty talk, jack is lowkey a little shit, reader loves him tho, inspired by the song “make it to the morning” by partynextdoor. freaky af!!!

WORD COUNT 2,3k

FROM ME TO YOU a little late (literally, it’s like 3am for me), but this is my thank you gift for you guys because today i woke up with 700 of you!! i’m still too in shock to say anything besides thank you so much. i was celebrating 600 followers like a month ago and now this. i’ll keep working hard to give you guys good content <3 ily and pls enjoy

𖧷

don't scream or shout, i'm workin' my way down

girl, you gettin' loud, now put it in yo' mouth

THE SOUND of your heels clicking against the marble floor were enough to piss anyone off. It was annoying, repetitive and even you were starting to get tired of the little tec tec sound, but you couldn’t stop.

Dating Jack Rowden Hughes was not for the weak. And you knew that, more than anyone else. Being his girlfriend of three years— the longest time he has ever been in a relationship, mind you—, you knew that the prize was good, but the job of keeping it was tiring.

You stared at him across the room, talking to some random fans who definitely didn’t know what being a fan was, since they were all over him, with their hands on his arms and shoulders.

He eyed you from time to time, blue eyes making it hard for you to stay one hundred percent mad at him— truthfully, you knew that all it would take for you to forgive him for his playboy behaviour would be a single kiss and an aggressive make out session.

“It isn’t so fun watching from here, huh?” Quinn’s new fling, or whatever the girl standing beside you was, said, approaching you quietly. “Trust me, I know how it feels.”

You hummed, not engaging with her. You knew Jack wouldn’t actually do anything, but still, it didn’t feel nice to get painted as the dumb girlfriend who has to watch her famous boyfriend laugh and take pictures with hundreds of girls while she stands in the back.

“I’m lucky my Quinn isn’t as nearly as talkative as he is,” she continues, despite your silence. “But you know, Jack is everyone’s favorite.”

You turned your head to the side, watching the girl next to you eye Jack the same way she eyed Quinn, hungry and suggestive, and that was enough for you.

“Sorry,” you interrupted, putting your wine glass down— it had been empty for at least ten minutes— and smiling apologetically. “I have a terrible headache, so I think it’s time for me to head out.”

“Oh, sorry to hear that,” she pouts, and you can feel your eyes twitch. “It is pretty late too, so you must be tired.”

“Mhm.” You nod, looking at your phone. 3:46a.m.

“Do you want me to call Jacky?” She asks, expectantly, and the way she says his name makes you want to smash her face against the crumbles of cake sitting on the buffet table.

“No, no, it’s fine, don’t worry,” you play dumb. “It was nice seeing you…”

You forgot her name. It was probably something like Olivia or Madeline, but still. You didn’t remember.

“It was nice seeing you, too!” She says, apparently clueless to your lack of memory— and interest. “I’ll text you later so we can talk more.”

“Sure thing, yeah.” You walk towards Jack with long, careful steps. “Hey, babe.”

His eyes are on you immediately, his hair moving around with his abrupt move. He smiles, stepping out of the little circle the girls had made around him to wrap his arms around you.

“If it isn’t my favorite girl,” he says. “Hi, baby.”

You can feel the girls’ eyes on you, burning your skin like the fictional fairies’ whenever they touch iron. It is a feeling you are used to already, but you feel yourself shivering either way.

“Can we go?” You ask, bluntly ignoring the other women there. “It’s late.”

“Yeah, we can,” he nods, turning his head back to his little girl group before smiling at them. “See ya, ladies.”

See ya, ladies?

“Bye, Jack.”

“You’re the best!”

“See ya next time!”

You can’t hide your pout on your way home— you don’t even try to. You have your arms crossed in front of your chest as you sit in the front seat of Jack’s absurdly expensive car, listening to the quiet hum of his air conditioner and the annoying noise whenever he turns on the turn signal.

“You’re not mad… are you?”

His voice is tentative, almost as if he’s scared of asking the question.

“Are you kidding me? You spent half of that ridiculous party talking to women. Tell me I can’t be mad about that.” You hiss back, not looking at him. You know there are high chances of you folding bad if you do.

“Baby, I already told you, it’s all business,” he says, once again, because he has, indeed, told you that several times before. “I can’t have them saying I’m a rude guy, can I?”

“Sometimes I can’t believe the shit you say,” you scoff. “You literally told a reporter to fuck himself last week, on live. Talk about being a nice guy now, Jack.”

“Come on, you’re not being fair!” He exclaims, and you can hear the pout on his voice. “He talked shit about you. He was lucky I didn’t punch him in the face.”

You rolled your eyes, biting your lips to hide your smile.

Little does Jack know you jumped out of the couch when you saw the transmission and giggled while you sent texts to your best friend about how you would have to be the mother of his children.

You stayed silent, looking at the dark streets, briefly forgetting about your anger to notice how beautiful your city is. There weren't many people in the streets at that hour— it was summer, yes, but it was almost four a.m and it was still Monday, and a lot of people were still working.

When you got to your and Jack’s apartment— a two bedroom penthouse with plenty of space and a kitchen you still fell in love with every time you looked at it— you didn’t waste time before heading to the guest bathroom shower, a clear sign that you didn’t want Jack to join you, which you knew pissed him off.

You were quick even though you weren’t sleepy, washing the soap off your body under the lukewarm water; happy because it was your favorite scent.

You got out of the stall, opening the bathroom door after you wrapped the towel around your body, deciding to change inside your bedroom.

Or at least that’s what you thought you would do.

“Y/n.” Jack calls you, sitting on top of the bed.

“Fuck, Jack,” you grunt. “You scared me.”

“I can’t have you mad at me, baby,” he says, getting up and walking towards you, only stopping when your covered chest is touching his. “You know those women mean nothing.”

“Jack,” you sigh. “We’ve been here before. You can’t just say that every time you flirt with other women.”

“I wasn’t—” he starts, but interrupts himself mid sentence. “You’re making shit up.”

“Am I?” You ask, holding the towel tighter. “You damn well I’m not.”

“Listen,” he says. “I’m not proud with the way I acted but I already told you—”

“It’s all business. I know, you know, we all know.” You roll your eyes, stepping back and moving forward so you can leave the room. His hand finds your waist almost immediately, locking you in place. “Jack—”

“You’re so full of complaints, baby,” he whispers. “Every time we go out you complain about something.”

“I wouldn’t complain if you didn’t give me reasons to.”

He clicks his tongue, running his fingers over your naked arms. You shiver slightly, hoping he doesn’t see it. “You want more?”

“More what?” You ask, furrowing your eyebrows.

“More reasons to complain,” he continues, chuckling as he lowers his head and hides it in the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply. “Real reasons to complain.”

“Wha—”

“Because I’ll give them to you, if you want to,” he licks your skin, and you can feel yourself start to malfunction. He’s a little shit, you think, as you slowly start to give in. He’s a little shit and I’m in love with him. “Or I can keep your mouth full so you can’t complain anymore.”

He stands up straight again, staring at you while his fingers move to where you were holding your towel.

“What’s your pick, baby?” He whispers, removing your grip from the soft fabric around your body, letting it fall on the floor, like a puddle of water on your feet.

You’re fully naked, and he can’t even pretend he’s not looking— he is. He always is.

Jack kisses you with hungry, tender lips. He holds your neck while he licks your lips with his tongue, hot and messy. He tastes like beer and you hate it, but you cannot get enough.

You wrap your own arms around his neck, holding him so close to you you could feel his heartbeat. Kissing him never got old, and if you were to write down your top ten favorite things about Jack Hughes, his kiss would definitely be number one.

You breathe in his scent, your favorite ever since you met him, and you can feel your legs start to give in, just like the rest of your body. It’s late at night, almost morning, your body can’t keep up with your mind and you want to tell Jack to fuck off.

Yet.

“Come on, baby,” he whispers against your lips, as he guides you to the bed, laying you down with your hips on the edge of it. “Let me give you something to make noise about.”

That’s the only warning you get before he gets his knees on the floor and separates your legs, leaving you open and exposed. You feel his fingers spreading your lips open, and when his tongue finds its way to your clit, all of your previous complaints are gone.

You close your legs around his neck, holding him in place, while he puts on a show for you, his fingers tracing the wetness pouring out of you.

You let out a soft moan, holding his hair with your hands, not bothering to be gentle. His tongue found your clit again, rubbing it in slow, circular motions.

“Jack.”

You trash under him as he flicked your sensitive nub with his mouth, the wet noises making you want to disappear. Jack always seemed pleased to go down on you, but you still aren’t used to this fact about him.

“So sweet, baby,” he murmurs, the vibrations of his words sending shivers down your spine, as he dives in again.

He has you curling your toes and arching your back, moaning his name loud and proud, but still, he doesn’t stop. He slides his arms under your thighs, holding you in place by gripping your waist, hard.

He has you coming in under five minutes— it’s a shame it’s over so soon, but what can you do, really. He looks up at you between your thighs, and the sight alone has you moaning, desperate for something else.

You pull his hair, gently, signaling to him that you wanted him up, closer to you, and so he does. He kisses you again, and you get to taste yourself on his lips, moaning loudly inside his mouth when you feel his dick trapped between his body and yours.

“Jack,” you whisper again, placing both of your hands on his cheeks. “I need you.”

“Yeah. I can see that.” He says, chuckling as he gets off you and removes the rest of his clothes.

He slides inside you with no hesitation or whatsoever, knowing too well that your inside’s have his print all over it. You both moan loudly, louder than you should be moaning at four something in the morning, but you can deal with the complaint letter later.

He holds your legs together, pressing them against your chest, almost folding you in half. He is being rough, something you absolutely want to kill him for, but you let yourself enjoy the roughness for a moment; you can scold him later.

You can feel him deeper now, as your body gets dragged up and down against the mattress, making you want to scream.

“You’re wet,” he says through his teeth and you can tell he’s also giving in. “Y/n, fuck.”

You’re clenching around his length as he strokes your G spot, dragging his dick against your walls, once again making sure you can take everything he gives you.

“Harder.” You hear someone ask, probably yourself, and you also hear his low chuckle. “Not enough.”

“Still complaining?” He asks, but doesn’t give you time to answer. Instead, he removes his right hand from your waist and does the one thing he knows it will have you drooling and begging under him.

He slaps your pussy. The wet, loud sound that fills the room makes you squirm, unconsciously trying to remove yourself from his hold. But he’s stronger, always has been.

“Take it, baby.”

He then slaps you again, and again, and so many times you stop counting. The feeling of his cock throbbing inside you, and his rough slaps against your clit is enough to make you come, leaving you almost lifeless under him.

“Good girl, Y/n,” he says, kissing your lips, briefly. “I’m gonna come, fuck.”

“Inside, please,” you hear yourself mumbling, and you’re not even sure if Jack hears it.

“What was that, baby?” He asks, his thrusts getting sloppy.

“Inside?”

“Fuck,” he curses. “I’m—”

He cums inside you, the familiar feeling making you sigh with bliss. You are both panting, the room smells of sweat, alcohol and sex, and you swear you can see the sun start to rise through the bedroom’s floor to ceiling windows.

You’re just about to tell Jack you want to go to sleep when you feel him start to pull out, which has you protesting, immediately.

“No, I— sleep inside, please?”

His blue eyes are staring down at you, and now, there’s a hint of a smile plastered on his face. He nods once, manhandling you around until you’re under the sheets, with your back glued to his chest, and his length still nestled inside you.

“Well, if you’re still mad at me,” he whispers. “At least we made it to the morning, huh?”

“Shut up,” you whisper back, barely hiding your smile. “If you keep talking, there won’t be any other morning.”

He laughs, kissing the top of your head. “Very well, then.”

𖧷

NHL MASTERLIST. JACK HUGHES MASTERLIST

[kyunniebuns]

˗ˏˋ Entry : 059 - Lover! HSR Men x Fem! Reader: Period Cramps ♡ ˎˊ˗

꒰ Dan Heng, Aventurine, Caelus, Sunday ꒱

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚ 𝔻𝕒𝕟 ℍ𝕖𝕟𝕘 ˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

Dan Heng is actually a veteran in taking care of girls during their periods. Why? You have March 7th to thanks for that. His poor friend's cramps are hell so he stepped up to assist whenever he can if Himeko isn' present to soothe her.

So when it comes to you? It's no problem really, he even enjoys the fact that you're relying on him for this since it shows that you trust him entirely.

Does he track your period schedule? Definitely, he has a tracker installed in his phone that he always checks. Periods are tricky and he wants to know incase anything wrong comes your way.

A little overdevoted of him, but you're not complaining. Why would you?

He has everything prepared a week advanced before your period.

Heating pads? Check. Extra napkins? Check. Snacks? Check. Chocolates? Check. Medicine for cramps? Check. Plushies? Washed and ready.

"Is your stomach acting up? No?" Dan Heng asks as he secures the blanket over you after placing a heating pad on your belly.

"I hate being a girl..." You complain, curling up further beside him for comfort.

"I know, but just for a few more days, it'll be alright" He says, stroking your head lovingly. "How about a movie? There are a bunch of new movies I managed to download."

"Okay..."

You actually passed out halfways into the movie, which Dan heng of course predicted already since he had the lights in his room already turned off. He changed the heating pad on your stomach first before tucking himself back in.

"Goodnight," Dan heng mumbles, placing a peck on your forehead before pulling you in for a cuddle.

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚ 𝔸𝕧𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕦𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕖 ˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

"There we go" Aventurine gently settles you down on the bed after placing an extra towel on it. "Is that better, love?"

You nod, cuddling the teddy bear he bought you just because you're on your monthly hell.

Your period week is strictly a no-gambling and no-business-trips time for Aventurine. Even if his bosses and the other stonehearts decide to bug him into doing stuff.

He values your happiness and comfort above all else, even work. So to hell with them if the ipc blows up out of nowhere during your menstruation. Aventurine will just throw a middle finger at them and laugh at their misery.

Aventurine was so dedicated he spent hours reading books about periods and even goes so far to research good napkin brands that wont make you itch.

He wants nothing more than the highest of qualities for his beloved who is going through a lot just because a woman's body decided to evolve suffering like this. he even has some doctors on stand by just incase anything goes wrong.

Of course, we can't forget his philanthropic side— this peacock man needs to spend his money on you even for the littlest things. You'll be having brand new jewelry, cosmetics and perfumes coming in rapid succession for you as well as a barrage of kisses to go along with it.

"My poor princess, are you sure you don't need anything else?" He asks, kissing each and every one of your fingers. "Should I order some shortcakes for you? Or should I call the doctor to check on you?"

"Vasha... I'm not bedridden..." You say.

"I know, but I would rather not risk anything happening bad, so if anything hurts too much you must tell me" Aventurine simply smiles.

"Your kisses are more than enough"

"Who am I to say no to that?"

And with that, he dives in to pepper your precious and pretty face with pecks.

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚ ℂ𝕒𝕖𝕝𝕦𝕤 ˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

"Okay, everything is settled" Caelus nods to himself after making a makeshift pillow fort in his bed for you to snuggle in.

The plushies he had ordered just arrived in time with your menstrual cycle. He made sure to ask March 7th about this just to be sure too. He can't screw this up—

Yeah, he's acting like he's about to go through something major or something. What an idiot.

Your lovable idiot atleast.

"Cae? I'm back" You say, walking out of the bathroom after changing your napkin. "???"

"Ah... Well" Your boyfriend sheepishly scrtaches the back of his head as you glance at the makeshift fort he managed to make during your time in the bathroom. "I figured I should make a fort so we could snuggle up more?... I don't know"

"You're cute" You laugh, kissing his cheek before crawling into the fort he made. "I like the fort, maybe you should keep it"

"I'll order more pillows and a canopy for my bed then" He grins before going in after you. "I'm not really good at taking care of you, my bad"

"It's fine, just you being with me is more than enough and I'd much rather cuddle with you" You wrap your arms affectionately around his waist. "Just be you as usual, that's more than enough."

"I should be the one comforting you" Caelus pouts, rubbing your cheeks together just so he can elicit a sweet giggle from your lips. "If there is is anything I can do, please just tell me what you need and I'll do my best"

"You're really like a puppy" You muse, kissing his cheek lovingly.

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚ 𝕊𝕦𝕟𝕕𝕒𝕪 ˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

Just like Dan Heng, Sunday is a veteran at this. His mother died before his sister had her very first menstrual cycle. And although there were servants around to assist— he still took the initiative to help Robin himself because he was her brother.

The result of that? He's absolutely good at taking care of you during your period. Much like Dan Heng, he has a period tracker on his phone and prepares everything in advance the week before your period starts.

But of course, Sunday actually memorized your cycle dates, he just prefers to be more organized and to fouble(triple) check everything

It's much more important for him to be assured that eveything is ready.

"Not like that, you'll make your stomach hurt even more, dear" Sunday says, putting down the book he was reading and reaches out to rub firm but gentle circles around your tummy. "I know it's different for each woman, but this is the method I used on my sister when her cramps are bad. Is that better?"

"Yes..." You nod weakly, melting into his massages quickly. "You're really good at this"

"it's only because I took care of my baby sister a lot" Sunday replies, keeping his gentle pace to help ease your pain.

"Robin must miss you" You mumble.

"It's alright" He shook his head, smiling bitterly. "I miss her too, but one day we will reunite. But right now you're the main character. You need me since your cramps as especially bad during the first few days of your cycle."

"What did I even do to deserve you?" You whisper, slowly drifting off to sleep the further he massaged you.

Sunday wouldn't reply until you finally gave in to the call of sleep.

"I need you more than you need me" He finally says, replying to your unconcious state while pressing his lips on your forehead. "So let me do this, it's the least I can do since you never gave up on me"

꒰ 🪼 A/N: This one is a bad fic but I'm really deep in writer's block. I'll try to get it in my next one. For now please be patient with me qwq. I hope you guys understand huhu. I'll try to make more comprehensive and better fics:3 ꒱

ʚ(੭´͈ ᐜ `͈)੭ .｡✧: ~♡ —! stories written by kyunnie; translations, reposts, plagiarism are strictly forbidden.

[dollzites]

⏦ﾟ♡︎ SEUNGHYUN (T.O.P) AS YOUR HUSBAND

୨ৎ pairing: husband!seunghyun x fem reader

୨ৎ genre: fluff! with mild sex talk

୨ৎ from myeong: hi!!! super duper excited to take this request since he’s been my love since I was a very young girl! have always looked up to him and I’m so happy to be writing for him!! and he’s back?! wooo!! please enjoy this! x

he’s going to be a very caring, attentive, and thoughtful husband. I don’t care what anyone else says about him, he’s going to be the bestest husband and do all that he can to make you happy.

is he perfect? nope. not even close to it and no one is perfect but what he does is try and he shows you that he cares and cares enough to work hard to keep the relationship as healthy as it can be.

sometimes isn’t clingy because he wants you to be the one to break first. he definitely enjoys watching you run to him for a hug, kiss, or something else.

shy!!!! he’s not shy all the time and likes to be the dominant one in the relationship of course and in a very non toxic way but when he does feel shy it’s the cutest thing you’ve ever seen a man do.

“what? you think this suit looks good on me? oh.. it’s what they told me to wear and honestly I wasn’t sure if it was too much.. but since you like it—”

he won’t finish because he’s looking down at the ground cheeks slightly pink from feeling a bit shy and embarrassed by how you keep staring at him and complimenting him. sounds weird for him hm? well! you’re just that special girl to him. I mean come on he married you!! he’s a different man now.

is very overly protective over you. will do all that he can to protect you and your relationship. since you are now a married couple he takes it to another level of wanting you and him protected as a couple.

“would you like to try this new dish with me? I can make it! or.. maybe.. we can cook it together?”

please cook with him because he secretly loves it and falls more in love with you watching how you cut up vegetables and the look on your pretty face when you’re concentrated and working. so cute

seunghyun is very obsessed with morning sex especially now as a married couple he just feels it’s needed and if you both don’t have time in the morning then expect before bedtime sex.

he loves trying new things with you. when he first brought up pulling hair.. it wasn’t yours. it was his. you pulled on his soft black locks and he felt this spark inside of him that he’s never felt before.

if it was a long night of sex he purposely gets up before you and makes you breakfast but not in bed since he’ll kindly drag you out of bed and have you sit at the table with him but you always end up sitting in his lap which he enjoys more of course.

“you’re such a pretty girl did you know that?”

“I.. love you a lot. thank you for loving me despite everything that I’ve been through. thank you.”

he’s a cautious husband and never wants you to feel hurt or anything close to that. he’ll do all that he can to make sure you’re happy, comfortable, and safe. he’s careful with his words especially when you two get into small arguments. he’s learned from the past on what not to do.

seunghyun is very emotional and he’s not afraid to show that with you. when he was younger it was a different story but he’s older now and has been through things that has shown him it’s okay to show such emotions. he trusts you as his wife and always cries in your arms if he desperately needs it.

expect movie nights with him!! which end in not watching the movie at all and just talking to each other about the weirdest topics or space of course.

will take so many pictures of you posing next to the moon specially the full moon since it’s his favorite! he finds it beautiful just like you. cries

nights in are his favorite but if you want to go out then he’ll do that for you. he’ll enjoy going on walks with you while eating ice cream his most favorite sweets. his free hand will hold yours tightly.

craves you in every way possible. he’ll need to kiss you often and stroke your hair or pull you closer to him and his larger frame. he enjoys how much shorter you are and constantly brings it up.

[levanterhaze]

GAMEBOY — BANGCHAN

♡  ― 󠀬󠀬 fratboy!bangchan x f!reader this one is just pure angst and drama, no smut, just teasing each other like two idiots.

♡ synopsis ― Bangchan is the campus playboy—charming, cocky, and infuriatingly irresistible. One reckless, drunken night leads to a secret you swore you'd never have. Now, hating him is harder than keeping him your dirty little secret.

[ 5.7k words ]♡― i had to continue this fic in a 2nd part, i felt necessary. maybe i'll continue it in a few more chapters (PLEASE DON'T GIVE UP ON ME) and thank you thank you thank you to everyone who has commented and appreciated this piece. it means a lot to a person who is non-native english wrt. without further ado, have a good read, loves!

♡ [part one]

you’re so indecisive of what I’m saying tryna catch the beat, make up your heart don't know if you're happy or complaining don't want for us to end, where do I start?

The pounding in your head was a testament to last night’s choices. Aspirin was non-negotiable. You could hear Eunji and Sohee's voices from the living room and were surprised that both of them were already awake after their all-nighter.

After leaving the room with Bangchan—because, of course, that happened—you ducked into the bathroom, shot off a text about vomiting and existential regret, and decided to make a graceful exit. Well, as graceful as one could manage after wild sex with the person you’d sworn to hate forever. Pride was nowhere in the equation, but who cared?

As soon as your eyes saw daylight, Eunji and Sohee looked at you judgmentally. You froze in your tracks, still wearing pink Hello Kitty jammies like a monument to your shame. Their judgment was immediate, sharp as a blade. Your heart sped up.

“You’re alive,” Sohee deadpanned, taking a bite of a cinnamon roll. “And looking like shit.”

“Appreciate it,” you shot back, throwing yourself into a chair. “Really warms the soul.”

Eunji’s smoothie slurp was unnecessarily loud, drilling straight into your skull. “We thought about waking you for breakfast but figured you’d need the recovery time.”

You dismissed the idea with a hand wave. "That's okay. Wouldn’t have gotten up anyway.”

"We can have lunch together, if you like. I really need a detox after last night." Sohee curled her lips into a grimace and you almost smiled. Detox advice from Sohee was peak irony.

But then Eunji, ever the chaos-bringer, dropped the bomb. “Oh my God, you guys, I heard the craziest thing last night! Jiwoon—my lit classmate—said he walked in on someone having super loud sex at the party. Guess who it was? Bangchan!”

Your heart plummeted straight into your stomach.

Silence remained and Sohee raised her eyebrows at Eunji.

“Apparently, the guy is a structural hazard,” Sohee chimed in, amused. “Minho said he once broke a floorboard. Who even does that?” Your red-haired friend says giggling.

Eunji giggled. “The girl’s lucky. If Bangchan wrecked me, I’d consider it an honor.”

You summoned your most convincing disdain, rolling your eyes with the energy of someone deeply unimpressed. “Honestly, can we not make him sound like some sort of deity?”

But guilt clung to you like a second skin, mingling with vivid flashes of last night—the furniture banging against the wall, Bangchan’s muscles taut as he tried to steady it. The memory burned, searing and humiliating, until Eunji’s voice yanked you back to reality.

The memory faded like mist when Eunji said it again. "Anyway, the girl’s lucky. I wish I was knocked down by Bangchan."

Lucky. That’s what they’d call you if they knew. Lucky—and a traitor to everything you’d loudly professed about hating him. They didn’t know it was you, and you intended to keep it that way.

From the tone of the chat, Jiwoon didn't see who was in the room with Bangchan, which means he didn't know you were the girl. Trying to ignore the talking and the sweat growing on your hands, you got up and declared that you were going to take a shower and maybe run some laps around the athletics track, because you really needed some fresh air.

The dorm felt claustrophobic. Eunji and Sohee were your best friends and you felt awful for not telling them the truth.

These were your best friends, but the truth felt like a grenade you couldn’t risk dropping. For months, you’d built your personality around despising Bangchan, and now? One night had unraveled it all.

Worst of all? You couldn’t stop replaying every second of it—and how much you’d loved it.

Sex had always been an exercise in mediocrity. Your exes? Predictably average, hitting the bare minimum on their way to their own finish line. As for finding the clitoris? Let’s just say they navigated like someone using a map upside down—an unsurprising disappointment every single time.

Now, though, Bangchan was something else entirely. A campus legend with a reputation as vast as it was unshakable. Everyone knew about his conquests—more women than you had fingers to count. Every rumor you’d rolled your eyes at turned out to be painfully, thrillingly true. He was better than anything you could have imagined.

Even after a long shower, his touch lingered, like phantom fingerprints etched into your skin. You could still feel him, every moment replaying in a maddening loop. No one had ever made you come twice in one night. No one. That fact alone made him unforgettable—and insufferably smug, no doubt.

Pulling on comfortable clothes, you grabbed a bag, stuffed in some essentials, and checked your phone. The group chat was overflowing with photos and messages from last night’s chaos, but you scrolled past all of it. There was only one person you needed right now.

You: Up for a morning run?

The reply came in under two minutes.

Hyunjin: It’s two in the afternoon. You: Morning for me. Hyunjin: Fine. Be there in five.

You tossed your phone into your bag and took a deep breath. A run was exactly what you needed—to burn off this restless energy and, hopefully, forget how guilty you felt.

You found Hyunjin on the running track near the outdoor field, surrounded by lush greenery and bursts of flowers the campus meticulously maintained. He looked effortlessly good, of course—baggy clothes hanging just right, dark hair falling over his face like it had been styled by the gods.

You started running side by side, silence settling between you. It was comfortable but heavy, like a bubble that needed popping. The kiss was the unspoken elephant on the track, but Hyunjin, ever observant, didn’t push. Not yet.

The day was crisp, the kind of weather that made you feel invincible. You poured your focus into your pace, and before you knew it, you’d pulled ahead. “Okay, okay—hold up,” Hyunjin called, his voice carrying just enough humor to make you smirk.

You stopped a few strides ahead, spinning on your heel to face him. He sauntered toward you, not even winded, like running was merely a mild inconvenience.

“There’s something you’re not telling me,” he said, his tone playful but probing.

“There’s nothing to tell,” you countered, already feeling your resolve falter.

“Uh-huh.” He stopped in front of you, his gaze narrowing. “Then why, exactly, did you ask me to kiss you last night?”

Well. There it was. No escaping now.

You shrugged, trying to play it cool as you grabbed the water bottle from your bag. “I was... needy, I guess.”

Hyunjin raised a brow, crossing his arms like he wasn’t buying it. “Needy, huh?”

“Look,” you said, exhaling sharply, “I’m sorry if it made things weird. You’re my best friend, and the last thing I want is for that to get messed up.”

“Relax,” he said, grinning as he ran a hand through his hair. “A kiss isn’t going to scare me off. You’re stuck with me.”

His easy laugh melted some of your tension, but before you could respond, he clapped his hands together with mock seriousness. “Tell you what—first one to the other side of campus owes the winner a banana milk.”

The sudden challenge caught you off guard, and you raised a brow. “Seriously?”

“Seriously,” he said, already turning on his heel to start jogging backward. “Unless you’re too scared.”

You couldn’t help but laugh as you bolted after him. “You’re so on.”

You lost the run, but of course, Hyunjin still paid for the drink. That summed him up as a friend.

After he dashed off to rehearse with Felix—because apparently, everyone else was rehearsing but you—a thought hit you like a lightbulb flickering to life. Rumors? Easy to spread. But if you wanted to get ahead of them, you had to go straight to the source.

With a mission in mind, you swaggered toward the gym where the basketball team was practicing. It wasn’t exactly classified info—every girl on campus could probably tell you when and where their training sessions were. You zipped your jacket up to your chin like it was some sort of emotional armor, grabbed your water bottle for moral support, and marched down the corridors. The door to the gym was already cracked open, and as you pushed it, everything seemed to slow down in the most dramatic way.

The guys were running drills, their shoes squeaking on the court like a broken record. The noise grated on your nerves, but you weren’t here for the sound; you were here for the spectacle. The stands were dotted with girls, some wrapped up in their player-boyfriend fantasies, while others... Well, who knows what they were thinking. You didn’t care. You had your eyes on the real prize today.

There he was, standing out like a sore thumb. His black and white uniform somehow looked too good on him. Focus, girl. You hid behind the staircase, crouched like a sneaky little spy, waiting for the game to wrap up.

It took nearly ten minutes, but eventually, the whistle blew. You adjusted your posture, trying to act casual, though you were definitely still paying attention to how the sweat trickled down Bangchan's forehead. It brought you war flashbacks. When the players scattered to grab towels and water, you took your cue to appear from behind the bleachers, giving a quick, awkward wave before ducking back again.

Bangchan's eyes scanned the area, and when they landed on you, his brows shot up in surprise.  In the meantime, he did the inevitable: he took off his shirt and used it to get dry. Great. Just great.

"Did you come to watch?" He smirked, that cocky grin of his. "Didn't know you were into basketball."

You rolled your eyes. His ability to flirt in every situation was almost impressive.

"Ha-ha. No." You sucked in a breath, desperately trying to obey your brain's commands. Don't look down. Don’t you dare look down. "Actually, I came to ask for a favor."

He leaned against the wall, eyebrow quirked, looking amused. "Okay...?"

“Right. I want what happened yesterday to stay a secret.”

Bangchan's eyebrow arched higher, an expression of entertained disbelief crossing his face. He crossed his arms, flexing those muscles in a way that made the mission of not looking at them impossible.

“'You think I'm going around saying we fucked?"

You roll your eyes, frustration building up, and clench your hand into a fist. Sure, say it louder, let the world know.

“Isn't that exactly what you do? Brag about your sexual life?”

The boy nodded, puffing out his chest, he shot back. "Ever heard me brag about it?"

“I don't need to hear it from you. The campus does it for you.” It was infuriating how this worked out. Everyone thought Bangchan was the type of guy, praising his victories and glorifying him every time he got between some girl's pants. 

Meanwhile, girls were severely censured for even kissing a guy at a party.

"Right. So you're just going off what people say about me?" His tone was challenging, like he couldn’t care less.

In a long drawn-out sigh, you fidgeted with your hands, intending to put the matter to one side. "Can you just keep this between us? I don't want anyone to know."

"Whatever, it's no big deal," he replied nonchalantly, shrugging. "If it's that important to you."

The words stung more than they should have. It wasn’t just the lack of care, it was the way he made it sound like it didn’t matter. No big deal. It hurt your pride, even if you didn’t mean it to. But that was Bangchan, wasn’t it? Haughty and self-righteous. Yeah, he was great in bed, but his attitude? Utterly shitty.

“Thanks.” You said it briefly, biting down your pride and leaving the scene as fast as you could. Speaking to him seemed like a fool's errand, but you couldn't risk it.

Behind you, Bangchan pursed his lips into a thin line, watching you go. To him, you were hopeless—always on guard, never letting your walls down. He knew he was right, even if it was a thin line. Sure, it was fun to rile you up, but it was maddening that you hated him for things he hadn’t even done.

Getting you to change your mind, though? That was the challenge. But if that’s what it took, he was more than willing to play the long game.

Early next week. Only Tuesday, and auditions loomed just a day away. You’d been agonizing over the perfect solo—one that wouldn’t just get you a role but the role. Monday was a blur of brainstorming with Hyunjin and Seungmin, your trusted theater comrades. Between swapping notes, debating song choices, and plenty of eye rolls, you managed to help each other refine your audition pieces. It was productive. Chaotic, but productive.

Your last hour of the day belonged to the theater, and it was sacred. The stage wasn’t just a place; it was a state of mind. The second the music hit, the world faded. Bills, homework, exes who ghosted you—it all melted away. Up there, you weren’t just alive; you were electric. It wasn’t just a hobby; it was instinct.

Your mom used to say you were born for the stage. She loved telling the story of how, as a kid, you’d belt out The Little Mermaid soundtrack so often the neighbors probably debated filing a noise complaint. Singing “Part of Your World” at the top of your lungs? A daily ritual. But the first time you sang for real—no plastic microphone, no stuffed animal audience—it clicked.

This was more than a passion. It was home.

Since high school, your hunger for the stage—and the spotlight—was insatiable. If there was a club, you wanted in. University was no different. People noticed you, not just for your knack for hitting sharp, glass-shattering high notes, but for your versatility. You could slip from sweet soprano to soulful belter faster than a drama major running late to class. On stage, you were magnetic.

Everyone gathered on stage, and Mrs. Baek appeared a few moments later with her round glasses and wavy hair around her face. Her figure was solid and powerful, as was her voice and knowledge.

But today, something was off. The crease on her forehead gave her away before she said a word. It was like a ripple of unease spread across the stage, and you didn’t miss a beat. You were already bracing for the bad news.

Then, a slim figure in a long skirt and boots strode into the center of the circle, sighing like she’d just carried the weight of the world—and maybe she had. “Okay, kids. Listen up.” Every pair of eyes locked onto her as if she were delivering the prophecy of doom. “We’re postponing the auditions. Indefinitely.”

Her announcement hit like a gut punch, and the stage erupted into chaos. Whispers turned to complaints, and complaints turned to full-blown outrage. Seungmin cast a skeptical glance at Mrs. Baek, then at you and Hyunjin, his eyes narrowing in suspicion.

What the hell was going on?

“All right, settle down,” Mrs. Baek said, slipping her glasses off and pinching the bridge of her nose with that practiced mix of authority and exhaustion only she could pull off. “Jun-ho, our sound engineer, has officially dropped out of college. And to make matters worse, the university has decided to cut funding for the theater department in favor of... sports.”

“You're shitting me.” Nahee’s voice sliced through the commotion like a whip. She quickly caught herself, mumbling, “Sorry... but seriously—”

“That’s so unfair!” another voice chimed in from the back, frustration rippling through the group like a shockwave. “Basketball and soccer aren’t the only things this university has going for it.”

“I get it, kids. Believe me, I tried.” Mrs. Baek’s tone softened, but her words were anything but comforting. “I went to the administration, pleaded our case... But unless we can find enough volunteers and funding, I’m afraid auditions are canceled. Indefinitely.”

It felt like a cruel joke. The theater had always been your sanctuary, the one place where you could shed your armor and just be. And now? It was slipping through your fingers.

When Mrs. Baek dismissed the group, some students stormed out in anger, others lingered, trying to process what had just happened. For you, Hyunjin, and Seungmin, the next logical step was the canteen. Food couldn’t fix this, but it was something.

“This is absurd. Now we're all supposed to close our eyes and applaud this nonsense?” Seungmin boomed as the three of you walked to the canteen. It was packed every day, regardless of the time of the day.

At a table outside, you spotted Sohee and Minho. Eunji, Changbin, Felix and Bangchan.

Just when you thought your day couldn't get any worse...

“Tell me about it, I'm so pissed off!” Everyone looked at you, hearing loud and clear about your discontent. All three of you pulled up a chair and you sat down facing Changbin.

“Someone's jumpy.” Sohee leaned across the table. “What's wrong? You three look like shit.”

“It turns out the university cut the theater’s funding in favor of sports.” Your voice was sharp, and your glare shot directly at Bangchan, who was busy texting like the world wasn’t crumbling around him. He looked up, one eyebrow raised in confusion, as if you’d just accused him of single-handedly ruining the arts.

You looked away, rage bubbling in your veins.

“That sucks.” Felix shot back with a supportive smile. “I know how important the theater is to you guys.”

“Everyone’s been working so hard,” Seungmin muttered, sinking into his chair like the weight of the news had finally crushed him. “It’s just... unfair.”

A heavy silence settled over the table, broken only by the sound of Bangchan’s nails tapping on his phone screen. You glanced his way, the sight of him completely disengaged making your blood boil.

“Is there nothing we can do?” Eunji twisted her lips, hopeful.

“Car wash?” Changbin suggested with a mischievous grin. “Classic fundraiser, right?”

“Sure,” you shot back, deadpan, “let’s exploit women for the sake of art.” Your glare could’ve leveled him then and there. Changbin leaned back in his chair, raising his hands in mock surrender.

“Okay, fine. What about food?” Sohee jumped in, glancing at Minho for support. “Muffins, cupcakes, something simple. People love that stuff.”

Hyunjin's face lights up like a light bulb. “Felix makes brownies. Amazing brownies.”

Felix smirked, shrugging like it was no big deal. “I don’t wanna brag, but they’re basically legendary.”

“Alright, then.” Changbin grinned, pointing a finger gun between Felix and you. “You two make the brownies. And we,” he motioned to himself and Bangchan, “sell them.”

You and Bangchan exchange glances for a millisecond.

“I’ve got the perfect idea,”  he says, a wicked smile slipping from his lips.

You raise an eyebrow, laughing. “What? Are you going to sell brownies naked around campus?”

The grin widened, and that’s when you knew you should’ve kept your mouth shut.

“That’s exactly what we’re going to do.”

Felix had assured you he could handle everything, but your stubbornness wouldn’t let you sit this one out. If it was for the theater, you were all in. He handed over his famous brownie recipe like it was a national secret.

So, on Thursday, you got hands-on. Literally.

Eunji had come through with the shopping, and soon your dorm looked like a war zone—chocolate smudges on the counters, flour dusting the floor, and batter splattered in places you couldn’t quite explain. You only had a cramped space and a big dream of pulling this off.

You were just pouring the batter into a pan when a sharp knock at the door startled you. Wiping your hands on your skirt, you swung it open, expecting maybe Eunji or Hyunjin. Instead, there stood Bangchan, leaning casually against the door frame like he had nowhere else to be.

“Uh… hello?” You blinked, your brow furrowing. “What are you doing here?”

Bangchan stood back for a second, observing how exceptionally good you looked.

“So… newsflash,” he started, a smirk tugging at his lips. “You might wanna double that recipe.”

Confusion flashed across your eyes. “What do you mean?”

He straightened up, clearly enjoying your puzzled reaction. “I may have the entire basketball team to help out with the sale.”

Your jaw dropped as his words sank in. “You what?”

His grin widened at your disbelief. “You heard me. More hands, more sales. I figured we could use the hype.”

It was insane. But it was also brilliant. A rush of excitement shot through you, lighting up your face. “That’s… that’s fantastic!” you blurted, beaming before instinctively biting your lip to rein in your enthusiasm.

Bangchan tilted his head, his smirk softening into something almost genuine. “Thought you’d like that.”

“Oh, shit. I'll tell Felix, we're going to need an extra oven.” You walked over to the coffee table, where your phone was.

Before you could dial, Bangchan’s voice cut through your focus. “You shouldn’t go there.” He was still standing in the doorway, arms crossed, his expression surprisingly earnest. “It’s a mess. Like, biohazard-level chaos.” You lose heart, trying to think of another alternative. “You can use my dorm. If you want.” He quickly adds the last sentence.

Your stomach dropped at the suggestion. The idea of stepping into Bangchan’s dorm felt like walking into enemy territory. Risky. Dangerous. Not worth the potential fallout. “It’s fine,” you said, waving him off. “I’ll figure it out. Don’t worry about it.”

But Bangchan leaned against the doorframe, his smirk resurfacing. “You sure? There are a lot of brownies to bake, and I don’t think you’ve got all night.”

As much as you hated to admit it, he wasn’t wrong. Time was slipping through your fingers like sand, and with the entire basketball team now involved, efficiency was critical. “Fine,” you muttered, hating the way the word tasted in your mouth. “But only if you help.”

“You don't have to ask twice.”

It turned out Bangchan’s “help” involved more than just offering his kitchen. He insisted on carrying every utensil, baking sheet, and ingredient across campus himself, as though showing off how capable he was. By the time you arrived at his so-called dorm, you’d pieced together another puzzle about him.

Rich, but not obnoxiously so. Still, his “dorm” was more like a chic little apartment, complete with a full kitchen, two bedrooms, and sleek decor that screamed privilege. The space was annoyingly Bangchan—polished, put together, and just distant enough to be intriguing.

“Cool place.” You muttered after he closed the door behind you. Scanning the room and trying not to sound impressed.

“Thanks.” he gave you a smile. “So, this is the kitchen.” He motioned to a modern setup that looked like it belonged in a Food Network show. Top class stuff. “Make yourself at home.”

“Thanks,” you replied, slipping your hands into your pockets. “Not just for the space but… you know, for helping.”

It was obvious that he was making this effort because the theater was important to his friends Seungmin and Hyunjin. Why else would he do all this? Still, you appreciated it.

His lips twitched into a grin. “Wow. Didn’t think I’d ever hear you say that.” 

You rolled your eyes, biting back the retort bubbling at your tongue. Play nice. He’s helping. 

“Relax,” he added, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “Just kidding. There’s booze in the fridge, by the way. Help yourself.”

“I’m fine, thanks,” you said, sidestepping the offer.

“I’ve gotta sort something out with the coach,” he said, grabbing his phone. “I’ll be back in 20. Think you’ll survive here alone?”

Honestly, being in his apartment without him sounded like the best possible scenario. You gave a small nod. “Yeah, no worries.”

With that, he left, and the door clicked shut behind him. You exhaled, a long breath that carried the weight of the past few days. Now you were in enemy territory, surrounded by his world, and somehow, that felt far more personal than it should.

How had this become your life? Baking brownies in Bangchan’s kitchen? It was almost as absurd as sleeping with him—a mistake you’d promised yourself you’d never make. But here you were, crossing one forbidden line after another.

You weren’t exactly a disaster in the kitchen, but you weren’t a pro either. Somehow, though, in thirty minutes flat, four trays of brownies were baking away in Bangchan’s fancy oven. The rest of the kitchen, however, looked like a war zone. Eggshells piled in the sink. Flour scattered across the floor. Chocolate batter smeared on your shirt. Your skirt? A masterpiece of handprints from raw dough. But hey, it was all for the sake of art—and funding.

While you whisked and poured, you couldn’t resist turning on your favorite song, What Is This Feeling from Wicked. Singing along word for word, you hit every high note with a grin. That song had landed you the role of Glinda in high school, and the nostalgia hit you square in the chest. Those were good times. Simpler times.

The chorus was still ringing in your ears as you crouched to scrub a stubborn chocolate stain on the floor. That’s when the door swung open, and Bangchan walked in, freezing mid-step as he surveyed the chaos.

“Holy shit. Are you all right?” he asked, his tone somewhere between amusement and genuine concern.

Your heart nearly leaped out of your chest as you scrambled to turn off the music. In your rush, your phone slipped from your flour-dusted hands and landed on the counter with a soft thud. You straightened, cheeks flushing. “I’m fine,” you said quickly, brushing your hands on your already-ruined skirt. “Sorry about the mess. I’ll clean it up, I promise.”

He looked around, clearly trying to hold back a laugh. His eyes flicked from the chaotic kitchen to you, taking in the state of your clothes. “You’ve got something… there,” he said, gesturing vaguely at the chocolate smear on your shoulder.

“It’s fine,” you muttered, avoiding his gaze. “As soon as I’m done here, I’ll head back to the dorm and clean this up.”

Bangchan tilted his head, clearly unimpressed with your plan. “I can lend you a shirt. Might make you feel more comfortable.”

“No, no. I’m fine,” you said, waving him off. “But thanks.”

He rolled his eyes, muttering something under his breath. Then, without hesitation, he reached behind his neck and yanked off the black shirt he was wearing, leaving him in nothing but his jeans and a devilish grin. “Here,” he said, holding the shirt out to you like it was the most casual thing in the world.

You blinked, completely caught off guard. “You know you could’ve just grabbed another shirt, right? Like, one you’re not currently wearing?”

He leaned in slightly, the grin widening in a way that made your stomach flip. “And where’s the fun in that?”

For a moment, you just stood there, staring at him, equal parts annoyed and flustered. His shirt hung in the air between you, a silent dare. Finally, you snatched it from his hand, muttering, “You’re impossible.”

“I’ve been told,” he replied, unbothered, and strolled over to the counter like he hadn’t just walked into the kitchen half-dressed.

After a few minutes, you walked back into the kitchen, now wearing Bangchan’s shirt. It hung a little loose on you, the soft fabric brushing against your skin and carrying a mix of fresh laundry and whatever cologne he used. Not that you noticed. Much.

Bangchan was at the sink, scrubbing a mixing bowl. His back was to you at first, but when he turned around, his gaze lingered a second too long before he coughed and looked back down. “Did you know,” he started, shaking his head with a teasing grin, “that you’re officially the world’s clumsiest cook? There’s brownie batter... under the sink.”

You glanced at the cabinet beneath the counter, then back at him. “Hey, I said I’d clean up,” you defended, marching into the kitchen with your head held high. “And for the record, I never claimed to be a good cook. I’m just trying to help.”

Bangchan barked out a laugh, drying his hands on a towel. “Help? No fucking way. You’re a disaster, love.”

You froze, raising an eyebrow at him. “Excuse me?” You crossed your arms, the oversized sleeves of his shirt only slightly undermining your indignation. “I didn’t see you stepping up to bake anything.. Let’s see you handle a whisk without breaking something.”

He leaned back against the counter, arms crossed, clearly enjoying himself. “Trust me, I’d still be better than whatever chaos you’ve got going on here.”

Your lips quirked into a slow smirk, and you reached for the bag of flour on the counter. “Oh yeah? Well, let’s see you handle this.” Before he could react, you scooped a handful of flour and tossed it right at him, the fine powder exploding across his chest like a smoke bomb.

Bangchan froze for a second, blinking down at the mess. Then, his lips curved into a wicked grin that should have been your warning. “Oh, it’s on now.”

With your hands on your lip, you realized that you had fucked up. “I'm sorry, I...”

Too late. In the blink of an eye, Bangchan scooped up the sugar and poured it all over your hair. You stared, half-shocked, half-impressed by his audacity. You parted your lips to fire back, but before a word could escape, the sound of his laughter erupted from deep in his chest.

“Really? Is this how it’s gonna go?” You grabbed the cocoa powder with a grin. Oh, he wanted a war? You were so ready. “Bring it on,” you shot back, face lighting up with mischief. 

You were almost halfway to smearing him with chocolate when his hand shot out and stopped yours midair. The cocoa slipped through your fingers, and just like that, your plan hit the ground.

Then, you collided—chest to chest. Bangchan wasn’t laughing anymore, and you could feel the shift in the air, the heat between you two now undeniable. His lips curled into that damn smirk, the one that told you everything. Your heart was racing, but the thought of pulling away didn’t even cross your mind. The only question now was who was going to make the first move.

A silent battle passed between you two. His gaze locked onto yours, sensing the shift in your expression—less defiant, more... willing. And just like that, the tension morphed into something else, something undeniable.

Without hesitation, you leaned in, your lips brushing his. Bangchan’s breath hitched, a soft grunt escaping him at the sudden contact. Your hands, still coated with the remnants of your baking disaster, slid over his broad shoulders. You were a mess, sugar and flour everywhere, but somehow, it made everything feel a little more real. And Bangchan? He didn’t seem to mind one bit.

All he seemed to care about was having your lips on his. And fuck, you could feel how much he wanted it.

Bangchan grabbed your ass possessively, squeezing it and making a raspy moan escape your lips. You pushed him against the wall, without detaching your lips, savoring how the softness of his lips felt like cotton candy.

When you finally broke away, your chests heaving, your fingers still pressed into his skin, you met his gaze. His chest rose and fell beneath your touch, and you could feel the pull between you intensify again, magnetic.

“I should probably clean up this mess.” your voice broke the tension, but the realization hit harder than it should’ve. Bangchan was clearly fed up with your habit of diving in and then ghosting the consequences. 

“Don’t you dare.” his voice was low, the words like a command you weren’t about to ignore. His eyes locked with yours—intense. “You want this.” his lips brushed against yours, a tease that made your heart leap, while his words hung heavy in the air. “I know you do.”

Your pulse thundered in your ears, drowning out everything but him.

“Bangchan.” You whispered, barely able to breathe. The heat from his hardness spread like wildfire, and your body seemed to betray you. “We can’t.” you licked your lips—stupid, because he was already there, sealing your protest with a sloppy kiss, stealing that last ounce of restraint.

You were losing it. Why did he have to be so... goddamn good at this?

“Oh yeah?” he pulled away, just enough to make you regret the distance. “Tell me one good reason. Just one.”

You snorted, doing everything you could to hold it together, but the pull between you was undeniable. “Please.”

He tilted his head, lips twitching like he wanted to argue, but instead he closed his eyes and muttered a curse under his breath. “Fine,” he grumbled, walking away, but the air between you two still crackled.

The rest of the kitchen cleanup was like some strange form of punishment. You moved in sync, two people acting like they hadn’t just burned down every ounce of decorum in the room. The silence was deafening, the kind of awkward that made you wish you could pull the floor open and swallow you whole. But instead, you just scrubbed harder, hoping it’d drown out the thundering thoughts in your head.

He pulled away, no jokes, no teasing—just silence. It was like a switch had flipped, and the tension that had once sparked between you now lay dormant, suffocating. You didn't know if you hated the quiet or if you hated yourself more for letting things go as far as they had.

When everything was finally done, he still helped you carry your things to the dorm, his touch lingering just a little too long as he adjusted the bag over your shoulder. You were too busy battling the whirlwind of your own thoughts, replaying every moment, every look, and cursing both him and yourself for what you’d just crossed into.

You hated how easy it had been. How natural. And you hated even more that you couldn’t quite bring yourself to regret it—at least, not yet.

♡ taglist ― @kenia4 @chrizrizz @meerabmalik