#he walked in tired one day and was just like …sure

[kashverse]

the first time you found nanami huddled in your shared room, you almost called an ambulance. huddling wasn’t exactly his thing. was he sick? dying? both? your mind raced through scenarios of him stoically hiding a terminal illness because “it’s not proper to trouble others.” but as you cautiously approached, ready to demand answers, you noticed the makeshift fort he’d built from your shared bedding. not just that—he’d constructed a fortress of books, an outright barricade. he looked up from his current read, glasses perched on his nose, and said, “it’s my day off.” oh. that was... anticlimactic. turns out, nanami decompresses by becoming a literature troll.

the first time you found gojo huddled in your shared room, you didn’t panic—you assumed he was trying to weasel his way out of work. which, frankly, was strange, given how much he adored tormenting his students with nonsensical training exercises. but when you walked in, the room was a battlefield. wrappers. so many wrappers. chocolates, gummies, cookies, things you weren’t even sure were technically edible. gojo lay in the middle of it, like some sugary war general, twirling a lollipop stick between his fingers. “self-care, babe,” he said with a grin, crumbs everywhere. you left him to it, but not before muttering about how cleaning up was also self-care.

the first time you found geto huddled in your shared room, your heart sank. geto huddling was a bad sign. you thought he was doing okay, considering everything—therapy sessions, reconnecting with friends, the works. but then you noticed what he was holding. a single strand of hair. his hair. your brain struggled to compute. “it’s broken,” he muttered, eyes fixed on the offending strand. “this means split ends, doesn’t it?” you blinked. his depression wasn’t back; his vanity was. “great. just great,” he sighed dramatically, retreating further into his silk pillow cave. you left him to mourn in peace.

the first time you found toji huddled in your shared room, it was well past his usual working hours. considering he’d only dragged himself home at 4am the previous night, you figured exhaustion had finally caught up to him. toji was not the type to stop moving. ever. “tired?” you asked gently. he looked up, smirking. “nah. retired.” your jaw dropped. retired? as in permanently? the man who treated work like a full-contact sport? but no joke followed. he was serious. you didn’t think you’d ever been happier in your entire life. toji laughed at your dumbfounded expression before pulling you into his ridiculous bear hug. “you’re stuck with me now, sweetheart.”

the first time you found sukuna huddled in your shared room, you froze. mostly because he was snoring. loudly. like a lion on steroids. the man could bring a house down with his sleep volume. you glanced at the peaceful chaos that was your room: one arm hanging off the bed, his face buried into your pillow like it personally offended him, and faint murmurs of incomprehensible sleep-speak. you made a calculated decision and tiptoed out, because waking sukuna from his hibernation seemed like a bad life choice. whatever ancient curse he was dreaming about could wait. better let the man sleep—who knew what destruction he’d bring when he woke up?

[norrisluv]

THE SURPRISE - LANDO NORRIS

warnings: fluff

lando norris x zak brown's daughter!reader

english is not my first language, so I apologise if any words are spelt wrong!

this is a request!!

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The crisp morning sun poured through the window as you scrolled through the adoption website on your phone. Lando had been dropping hints about wanting a dog for months now, though it always came with the caveat of, "But I just don’t have the time, you know?" You could see the longing in his eyes every time he saw a dog during his travels or in fan posts. He wanted one, even if he didn’t let himself believe it was possible. So, you decided to make it happen—for him and for you.

After weeks of planning, you found the perfect little yellow Labrador puppy from a reputable rescue. She was playful but calm, a bright-eyed bundle of joy. You’d spent days researching everything about puppies, from training to travel logistics, knowing how hectic both your lives were. And now, the big day had arrived.

Lando was due back from a simulator session at McLaren HQ later in the afternoon, so you had time to prepare. You’d set up a cozy little dog bed in the corner of the living room, a basket of toys, and bowls already filled with water and kibble. The puppy, who you’d named Sunny, was napping on your lap, her tiny chest rising and falling with each breath.

When Lando walked through the door, his hair slightly tousled and his McLaren hoodie slightly oversized, you could tell he was tired but content. "Hey, love," he called, kicking off his sneakers.

"Hey," you replied, a mischievous smile playing on your lips as you stayed seated on the couch.

His eyes narrowed. "What’s that look for? You’re up to something."

"Me? Never," you teased, shifting slightly so Sunny’s little head peeked out from under your arm.

Lando froze. "No. Way."

You grinned as Sunny stirred, her big, soulful eyes opening and landing on Lando. The moment he saw her, his tiredness evaporated. "Oh my God! Is she… Is she ours?"

"Surprise! Meet Sunny," you said, gently placing her on the floor. She wobbled on her tiny legs before padding over to Lando, tail wagging furiously.

He dropped to his knees, his face lighting up like a kid on Christmas morning. "Hi, Sunny! Oh, you’re so cute! Look at you!" His voice was an octave higher as he scooped her up, cradling her like the most precious thing in the world. Sunny responded by licking his face enthusiastically, making him laugh.

"You’ve been talking about wanting a dog forever," you explained, sitting beside him. "I know we’re busy, but I’ve figured it all out. I’ll handle most of the care, and she can travel with us whenever possible. I’ve even spoken to my dad about it—turns out, McLaren’s totally cool with her being around."

Lando looked at you, his eyes soft and full of emotion. "You did all this for me?"

"Of course. I know how much you’ve wanted this, and I’ll make sure you don’t have to worry about anything. You just get to enjoy her."

He leaned in and kissed you, lingering for a moment before pulling back to look at Sunny. "She’s perfect. You’re perfect. But are you sure? She’s a big responsibility."

"I’ve got it covered, trust me," you reassured him. "And let’s be honest, Sunny’s about to be the most well-traveled dog in the world."

Lando laughed, hugging Sunny close. "Alright, then. Sunny’s officially part of the family."

The rest of the evening was spent watching Sunny explore her new home, with Lando snapping pictures and videos to share with his family and a select few friends. You could tell he was already smitten, constantly doting on her and giving her belly rubs.

Later that night, as Sunny snoozed in her bed and you curled up beside Lando on the couch, he kissed the top of your head. "Thank you for this," he whispered. "For her, for everything."

"Anything for you," you replied, your heart full as you watched him glance back at Sunny with a look of pure happiness.

✧⸻✧

The atmosphere at Silverstone was electric. Fans cheered from the grandstands, the smell of rubber and fuel filled the air, and engines roared to life in the garages. It was a big race day for Lando, and this time, Sunny was part of the action.

You arrived at the paddock early, Sunny trotting beside you with her McLaren bandana tied neatly around her neck. She was a natural at stealing hearts, stopping every few steps as team members, fans, and even rival drivers paused to coo over her.

As you made your way to the McLaren garage, your dad, Zak Brown, spotted you from across the paddock. "There’s my girl," he called out, his sharp eyes softening when they landed on Sunny. "And who’s this little superstar?"

"Meet Sunny," you said, kneeling to let the puppy greet Zak. "She’s officially part of the family now."

Zak crouched, letting Sunny sniff his hand before giving her a gentle pat. "Well, she’s already got the whole paddock charmed, hasn’t she? Lando, this was a good call."

Lando grinned, hands in his hoodie pockets. "I can’t take the credit. This was all her," he said, nodding toward you.

Inside the garage, Sunny had her own little setup—a custom McLaren dog bed and a small water station. Zak checked in occasionally, offering a lighthearted comment here and there. "You know," he said at one point, "if she keeps this up, I might have to put her in some team promos."

As the race approached, Zak joined you and Sunny on the garage. The crowd was buzzing with excitement, and a few fans held up signs dedicated to the puppy like "SUNNY FOR TEAM PRINCIPAL!"

Zak chuckled, glancing at the signs. "Looks like she’s already more popular than me."

"She’s got that Brown charm," you teased, earning a playful eye roll from your dad.

When the race began, Sunny sat beside you and some people you know in the McLaren hospitality suite, her ears perking up every time Lando’s name was mentioned. People couldn’t help but narrate Sunny’s reactions. "See that tail wag? That’s pure confidence in her dad."

It was a nail-biting race, but Lando drove brilliantly, crossing the finish line in second place. The garage erupted in cheers, and Sunny barked excitedly as if she understood the significance of the moment.

After the podium celebrations, Lando returned to the garage, still in his race suit and champagne-drenched shoes. "Sunny! Did you see that?" he exclaimed, dropping to the floor to hug her. Sunny greeted him with enthusiastic licks, her tail wagging furiously.

Zak appeared shortly after, clapping Lando on the back. "Solid drive out there. I think Sunny’s got a future as the team mascot."

Lando grinned, scratching Sunny behind the ears. "She’s already the heart of the team."

As the evening wore on, the three of you sat outside the motorhome, watching the sunset over the paddock. Sunny curled up between you and Lando, her soft snores filling the quiet. Lando glanced over you and smiled. "This," he said, "is what it’s all about. Family, racing, and a little bit of chaos."

You leaned your head against Lando’s shoulder, your heart full. "And just think—we get to do it all over again next race."

Lando chuckled, pressing a kiss to your temple. "As long as you and Sunny are there, I know it’ll be amazing."

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A/N: please let me know if you like it! requests are open!

[ninikrumbs]

things he'd never admit

Sukuna x femreader. Just pure fluff. modern au. Soft Sukuna. Sukuna is bad at emotions. first time writing for sukuna so this could be bad.

The smell of rain reaches your nose first making you look up at the dark and gloomy clouds in slight panic, "Damn, its gonna rain soon."

Quickly, you run to the bus station, but apparently not quick enough as you made it halfway through before the soft pitter patter of rain slowly turns louder.

Lady luck was not on your side today. After long tiring day at University, you're now about to turn into a wet rat. A cute wet rat, but still a rat.

It was probably a dumb thing to do, especially when the pouring rain was now blurring your vision, yet you still continued running down the slippery pathway anyways, trying to salvage your books and papers inside your gradually dampening bag.

A low, annoyed grumble made you halt in your step, "Are you trying to kill yourself, brat?"

You could recongnize that rude voice anywhere. You look up to the large form now blocking your way, and quickly noticing the dark umbrella covering your head, "Kuna?"

He scoffs and let out an irritated sound, "Who else?"

Suprise and something warm flits through your body, your eyebrows raising, "What are you doing here? I thought you were busy all day today?"

Your mind recalls his blatant reminder that he couldn't come see you today because he had some school shit to do. Hence why you didn't call him to pick you up which he usally does. Because despite his semi aggressive personality, he does take his studies seriously so you didn't want to disturb him.

And Sukuna was busy, unbearably so. Not that he would admit it, he loved spending time with you thats why he chose to spend the entire day to do his papers and essays due this week was so there would be no interruptions during your time together - which was another thing he would never admit to you- and he could just focus on you.*simp

But when he saw the weather forecast and knowing your bad habit of always forgetting to bring an umbrella, he was already out the door with his keys in hand.

He was right to trust his gut cause here you are almost soaking wet, like a stray kitten left out in the street. Not mention your clothes that were now almost translucent.

It makes him grit his teeth, no one else should see you this way other than him. He holds out the umbrella to you. "Hold this."

You take it without question and hold it above the both of you as Sukuna removes his coat and puts it over your wet clothes. The annoyed look still plastered on his face as he keeps grumbling under his breath of how much of a spoiled brat you are.

It makes you grin cheekily. Other people might take Sukuna's surly personality the wrong way but you knew better. You spoke fluent in Sukuna Itadori.

And you knew, regardless of his complaints and rumblings, he cared. He cared so much even if he wouldn't admit to you or to himself. But you felt it every second you're together.

"Watcha smilin about, woman?" He grouses, annoyed, his eyes locking in on your smile, the type of smile that makes his pathetic heart stumble.

You shake your head still grinning innocently, "Nothing."

He glares at you, not believeing you for a second, but he can roast you about that later. Right now he just want to get you home to make sure you don't come down with a cold or a fever.

With a shake of his head, he takes the umbrella from you and starts walking you to his car. He tries to be subtle about it, but you didn't miss the way the umbrella tilted more on your side getting his right arm soaked from the rain.

"Kuna, your-"

"Leave it."

"Are you sure?"

"Im fine, brat."

You bit back a grin, his words were so jarring yet with no real bite behind them. It could be his jacket that envelops your entire frame and his comforting scent emitting from it, but you feel so warm and cherished. Only Sukuna can be so grumpy yet somehow affectionate.

The car finally comes to view and he ushers you into the passenger seat, placing a practiced hand on the car door frame as you sat down.

You bumped your head into it once but the grimaced you wore is forever seared into Sukunas brain. He realized then and there that he didn't want you in any form of pain, not that you'd ever know when he called you a clumsy idiot as you rubbed your sore head.

He drove extra slow that day.

Plus he stared at that door frame for a hot minute like it was his biggest enemy when he got home.

The moment you got inside his apartment, he immediately demands you get into the shower. His voice holding no room argument.

You comply without complaints of course. After a warm shower, you change into his baggy shirts and make your way to the kitchen when you hear the kettle boiling, and surely enough he has your favorite tea ready in the favorite mug that you bought when you first started dating.

"Oi, your hair's still wet." He notes grimly by the kitchen counter, crossing his arms in displeasure. Though you don't miss the way his eyes flits across your figure in his shirt apprciatively.

You wave him off, grabbing the mug off the counter and breathing in the soothing scent of the tea, a content smile on your lips, "It'll dry off on its own, Kuna."

He tsks at your carelessness and disappears to the bedroom, he comes back a few moments later with a towel and hair dryer. "Sit on the damn sofa"

You gaze at him with exasperated affection. If only people could see through his rough exterior and notice how much this man dotes on you.

Finding no reason to argue, you plop down on the sofa with your legs crossed and he finds his place behind you, fluffy towel in hand.

Gazing down in the mug in your hands, you smile secretly to yourself. Your boyfriend may not be the most expressive when it comes to declarations of love, but you didn't need words. His actions spoke more than any kind of heart trembling confession or lovesick poem.

And you felt everything he would never admit outloud in the way his rough, calloused hands are so uncharacteristically gentle as he weaves through your hair with the towel. Handling you like you were some precious china.

You clasps your hands over his, making him stop. You turn your head and look up at his questioning gaze. Smiling softly, your kiss one of his palms. "Thank you for always taking care of me, Kuna."

His eyes widen slightly before his mask of nonchalance returns, huffing,"Dunno what yer talkin about."

"You know exactly what Im talking about." You grin.

He rolls his eyes feigning irritation in order to hide the small smile tugging in the corner of his lips, "Don't get too used to it."

But he did want you to get used to it. Needed you to need him. This way maybe you'll ignore how shitty he is at emotions or how he can't do all the lovey-dovey stuff that makes you swoon in those crappy rom-coms you're always watching. He'll never hold a boombox over his head outside your window.

"Too late." You say, snuggling your cheek into his palm.

Sukuna falters a bit.

He's a confident man, women would beg for just a single glance from him despite his abrasive nature, it was all part of what Gojo called his charm -and once again he'd never admit it to you- but your words eases the insecurities he didn't realize were there. He grumbles under his breath somewhere along the lines of you better not taking that back.

You laugh at his mumbling, the sound like music to his ears, "Oh, Kuna."

[aliceinborderlandsquidgame]

Ignored | Salesman x Wife!Reader

Summary: He knows his work can take much of his time. But the worse punishment its being ignored by you.

Warnings: Possessive!Salesman - Angry!Salesman - Violent!Salesman - Sad!Salesman - Manipulation - Toxic!Relationship - Suggestive - Grammar mistakes -

It was true. He had started to leave earlier and came home late. He was tensed, tired and angry. Everytime he had to face these excuse of humans made his blood boild.

But he was good, too good at it. And the money he got from it was a big amount. Enough to give you, his dear wife the life you have always deserve.

Splendind nights out, visists to the most precious places, fashion clothes and precious little details (expensive ones). He loved to pampper you in them. He could not help himself but pull his card out the moment he saw you looking at something. It was a reflex, even when you tell him that its not necesary he still insists.

If you want a private Island then he would do his job three times or even more times better.

You ask and he does. Thats how it works. The only thing he expects from you its to be at home when he comes. To get him with a delicious dinner, your soft voice making the stress go away. You would make him lay down on your lap as you play with his hair and tell him sweet nothings. Its almost unfair how much of a effect you have on him.

However, this past days these things have not been happening. Did food wait for him when he returned ? Yes. Where you there with open arms to ease him ? No.

It had started slow, you giving him simple responses when he talked to you. Mornings when you would say you were too tired leaving him to not really enjoy the shower missing your body against his. Not responding his messages or calls (He almost killed the next person he had to recruit when your voice email sounded back).

And at home you would give him the cold shoulder. Your attention on a book (that he got you and now he wants to burn) or your phone (that he hacks and sees what you are doing).

Honestly he is started to get tired of this. He has lots of patience with you. He loves you, in a insane way. But he cant help but feel...bad. The feeling makes him want to vomit because how the object of his love and adoration, the one he crafted and made a live with just...ignores him?

Yes he knows he can be difficult at times. He tries his best so you only see his good part. But this is ridiculous, no one would dare to disrespect him like that.

There is a centrain charm on your way of going against him. But he does not like it. He prefers the doting wife. The one who showers with love and affection. Not...this.

"We need to talk" Are his words on friday night after a long day recruiting and a cold and lonely shower.

He is quiet angry.

"Im reading" You said back not bothering to look up from your book.

Alright, now he is pissed.

He takes some steps towards you, his taller frame casting a shadow over you as he takes the book from you rather harshly.

"We need to talk, and we will" He says in a cold tone, making sure to mark the page you were reading before taking your arm and pulling you towards the bedroom.

The light blue walls and the big bed welcomes you as he throws you on the bed. Under other circunstances this would mean a good time, but with the look he is giving you right now, its not. Its a look you have never seen before, a look that sends shivers down your spine as he closes the door with a click and starts to walk around. Arms crossed as he fakes to think.

"What?" You ask seeing him go to the wardrobe and for the safebox pulling out a smaller box. He pulled out  a syringe  and a bottle with some transparent liquid.

"Dear...you are scaring me"

"Scaring you?" He asked with a smile that did not reach his eyes. "My Love, you should never be scared of me. I just want to talk" He did answer once more getting closer to her syringe  in hand.

"Then for what is that-"

"Because I need to understand Love. I need to understand whats going on with you" He says anger in his tone. "You have been ignoring me for the past few weeks. Me, the Man of your life. Who gives your the world and does everytning so you dont have to lift a single finger"

One hand traces your face doing down to your neck giving it a grip.

"I work so hard, for you. I just ask for you attention. But you cant even give me that" He says pushing you down on the bed the syringe  now close to your neck.

"Is there someone else ? Have you lost your love for me ? Im not enough now ?" He ask the syringe  inches from your skin.

"N-no, please let me explain" You said tears falling

He does not move but gives a small nod so you can talk

"I...I was stupid. I started to feel like your work was more important. You have always be with me. You make time for me and we pass our days together. And then you...you start to leave earlier and be home late. You...you look different every time you get back. I thought..that if I did not give you my attention you would stop. But I never saw how much I was hurting you"

He does not move for a few seconds letting the words sink in. Then he leaves the syringe  on the nightstand. He cleans off your tears kissing them.

"Oh my dear sweet wife. How could you be so dumb? My work would never be more important than you" He makes you sit on his lap as he moves you like a small creature.

"I have been under so much stress...and so much work. Im sorry I should have tell you. Last thing i wanted was to get ignored by you and hurt you. Not that I would ever do it"

Well, if you were seeing another men or women then yes. He would hurt you so much. You would be calling his name and only his. Never daring to think on going behind his back.

Much like right now. He is sure you would never ever again ignore him. Not after that scared he gave you. He still feels you trembling in his arms and its almost arousing to him.

Fear. Such a primal feeling. He loved being the one behind it. The face that was associated with the word.

"Shh my love. Its ok, we are ok. You wont ignore me again and now you know there is nothing more important than you" He whispers biting your ear.

"That syringe..."

He laughts, a well faked one.

"Do you really think I would ever hurt you my Love?" Yes, yes he would. If it did mean you staying with him and obeying him. "That was a bad joke on my side. My apologizes" He gives you a big kiss on your cheeck. "Lets order some food, we can watch a movie too and call it a night"

He sees you nod but before you can move he holds you in place one finger pointing at his lips.

You kiss him, not giving him much pressure but he is not letting you go that easy. He forces his tongue inside your mouth, tangles it with yours, his hips moves making you feel him growing hard under you. One hand presses your neck guiding your face as he leaves your lips and trails kisses down your neck and collarbone.

"Im almost temped to dich food and just have you" His tone is dark, possessive as he kisses you once more. "But I know you must be starving so we can save that for later"

You wont ever know that syringe did have a powerfull sleep drug...to make you unable to escape him if that was your plan.

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~

How He feels. VS. How He acts.

[amkyor]

Hey! I'm a big fan, annnd I have a bakugou x y/n idea... where bakugou hasn't been paying attention to y/n his girlfriend lately and it's been lonely.... so y/n is watching a romance anime with Mina and y/n says... "I wish I had that"....and then Mina ask if she loves bakugou and she says ...."hes okay"..... but the whole time bakugou and his friend kirishima were listening....and bakugou his mind is like "I'm a bad boyfriend? Does she love me? Im...okay?"

K. BAKUGO SHORT STORY

Synopsis: Bakugo has been distant toward his girlfriend (you), and she realizes how much it is actually affecting her while watching a romance movie that includes the love that she wishes she had.

Short note: Chapter 23 of my Bakugo x Reader Fanfiction is out now! If you like my stories on here, I'm sure you'll like my fanfiction, so go check it out! The link is at the end of this post!!

Distance Between Us:

It all started slowly, too slow for you to realize.

The day you started to notice it was when it was late in the evening, and you were sitting on the couch, waiting for Bakugo to come home.

He had promised to spend the evening with you after work, but as the hours ticked by, your excitement turned into frustration. Finally, you heard the front door open.

Bakugo walked in, still in his hero uniform, his face tired and serious. "Sorry, I got held up at work. Some idiot caused a mess in the city," he muttered, tossing his gloves onto the table.

You smiled, trying to be understanding. "It’s okay. I’m just glad you’re home now. Want me to heat up the dinner I made for us?"

"Not hungry," he replied shortly, already pulling out his phone. "I need to check the patrol schedule for tomorrow. There’s a lot going on."

You sighed, your shoulders dropping. "Katsuki, can’t it wait? You’ve been working all day. We barely get time together."

But he didn’t seem to hear you, his eyes glued to the screen. "Huh? Yeah, sure, whatever you say."

The evening dragged on, and though he was physically present, his mind remained consumed by hero work.

You ended up eating dinner alone while he sat at the kitchen table, typing away on his laptop.

---

Another time was when he had made plans out of nowhere to hang out with his friends and ditch out on the two of you had planned.

It was a rare weekend when Bakugo didn’t have patrol or missions lined up.

You had planned a quiet day together—something simple, just the two of you.

But as you were setting up breakfast, his phone buzzed on the counter.

Bakugo glanced at the screen and smirked. "It’s Kirishima. He wants to hit the gym and grab lunch afterward. I’ll be back later."

Your stomach sank. "I thought today was for us? We haven’t had a day off together in weeks, Katsuki."

He blinked as if realizing for the first time that you might have feelings about this. "We can hang out later. It’s not like I’m gone all day. Plus, I haven’t seen the guys in a while."

You bit your lip, trying to keep your disappointment in check. "But we haven’t seen each other in a while either."

He paused for a second, then ruffled your hair in a halfhearted gesture. "Come on, it’s not a big deal. I’ll see you tonight." Before you could argue further, he was already grabbing his gym bag and heading out the door.

---

Another day came, and he did the same.

Bakugo’s dedication to his work often left him exhausted, and his sleep schedule was all over the place.

One night, you stayed up late, waiting for him to come to bed.

You had something important to talk about, but he was still in the living room, sprawled out on the couch, catching up on sleep.

"Katsuki," you called softly, standing in the doorway.

He grunted, barely lifting his head. "What is it?"

"I wanted to talk to you about something. It’s been on my mind for a while."

He groaned, sitting up slightly. "Can it wait? I just got back from a double shift, and I’m dead tired."

"But it’s important," you insisted, stepping closer.

He sighed, rubbing his eyes. "Y/n, I can’t deal with anything serious right now. Let’s talk tomorrow, okay?"

The next day came and went, and so did the conversation. You couldn’t help but wonder if you’d ever get the timing right.

---

Then, of course, came another.

One evening, Bakugo was in the backyard, practicing his explosions while you watched from the patio.

You had been waiting for him to finish so you could spend some quality time together, but he was completely absorbed in his training.

"Hey, Katsuki," you called out, waving at him. "How much longer are you going to be out here?"

"Not now, babe," he shouted back, his voice carrying over the sound of crackling explosions. "I’m almost done!"

Almost turned into an hour, and by the time he came inside, you were curled up on the couch, half-asleep.

He walked past you, grabbing a water bottle from the kitchen.

"Sorry, I lost track of time," he said, but there was no apology in his tone.

You gave him a small smile, too tired to argue. "It’s okay," you mumbled, though deep down, you wondered if he even realized how much you had been waiting for him.

---

In each of these scenarios, Bakugo’s priorities—whether work, friends, or personal routines—seemed to overshadow his time with you. While his intentions might not be malicious, his actions often left you feeling overlooked and craving the attention he gave to everything else in his life.

───────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────────────

The evening was calm, the golden light of the setting sun filtering through the kitchen window, casting a warm glow across the counters.

You stood at the stove, carefully stirring the simmering pot of stew. The gentle aroma of sautéed vegetables, rich broth, and spices filled the air, blending seamlessly with the soft hum of the overhead fan.

Tonight, you had decided to prepare something special—something hearty and comforting, like the conversation you hoped to have with Bakugo.

It had been a while since the two of you had truly spent time together.

His hero work had consumed most of his days, leaving you with fleeting moments of his presence.

You understood, of course, the weight of his responsibilities, but that didn’t make the distance any easier.

So, as a gesture of love and an attempt to reconnect, you had spent the better part of the evening preparing this meal.

The kitchen was cozy, lit by the soft glow of under-cabinet lights.

Plates were set neatly on the table, silverware arranged perfectly beside them.

A bottle of chilled sparkling water stood in the center, and the faint crackle of the stovetop added a soothing rhythm to the room.

You glanced at the clock on the wall, noting the time. He should be home any minute now.

You adjusted the flame under the pot, letting the stew bubble gently, and moved to check on the freshly baked bread cooling on the counter.

The sound of the front door opening broke the quiet, followed by the rustling of heavy boots on the doormat.

Your heart gave a small flutter at the familiar noise.

He was home.

You didn’t look up from your task, your focus fixed on the pot as you gave it one last stir.

Toward the front door, the faint creak of the door closing reached your ears, followed by the soft thud of a duffle bag hitting the floor.

Bakugo’s presence filled the space immediately, even without a word.

The faint scent of smoke and ash mingled with the aroma of dinner, a signature of his return after a long day on patrol.

You heard the stretch of leather as he raised his arms high above his head, likely working out the stiffness from hours of action.

His footsteps echoed softly against the hardwood floor as he made his way down the hall.

You could picture him rubbing the back of his neck, his hair likely a mess from the day’s exertion.

The sound of his approach grew louder, each step deliberate yet unhurried, as if he were easing back into the calm of home.

You stayed at the stove, stirring slowly, waiting for him to join you in the kitchen, the moment of connection hanging in the air like the steam rising from the pot.

The clatter of the wooden spoon against the pot ceased as you set it down gently on the counter.

Wiping your hands on the apron tied snugly around your waist, you turned toward the kitchen's pillared entrance.

The soft shuffle of Bakugo’s steps nearing the kitchen tugged at your curiosity, and you couldn’t help but abandon your task momentarily.

You stepped around the corner, leaning casually against the frame of the kitchen entrance.

Resting your hand lightly on the wall, you peeked out toward him.

The sight of Bakugo, mid-stretch with his arms behind his head, immediately brought a fond smile to your lips.

His usual scowl was softened by a tiredness that clung to him, his messy ash-blond hair catching the dim light of the hallway.

He hadn’t noticed you yet, too busy absentmindedly rubbing the back of his neck, likely sore from a long day.

His broad shoulders rolled slightly as he worked out the tension, the faint sound of his knuckles popping filling the quiet space.

The corners of your lips curled further upward as you admired him in his element—worn out yet still exuding the confidence and strength you loved about him.

Before you could say anything, his crimson gaze lifted, finally catching sight of you standing there.

His expression didn’t shift much—just a subtle raise of his brows as if to acknowledge your presence.

You straightened slightly, your smile warm and inviting as you prepared to greet him.

But before you could utter a word, he spoke first, his gravelly voice breaking the silence.

“I’m going upstairs to shower. Gotta get this grime off my body.” His tone was matter-of-fact, and he started walking toward you without breaking stride, cracking his knuckles as he moved.

Your smile didn’t falter as he approached, though the hurriedness of his words made you hesitate. “Oh, well, that’s great,” you began, your voice light and teasing. “But don’t take too long becau—”

“Oh yeah, by the way, before I forget,” he interrupted, his voice cutting through yours without a hint of malice, just his usual bluntness. “The gang and I are gonna hang out later, so I won’t be home for long.”

The abruptness of his words hit you like a splash of cold water. Your mouth hung slightly open mid-sentence, the rest of your words caught in your throat.

Bakugo’s gaze didn’t linger long, already focused ahead as though his announcement was nothing out of the ordinary.

Bakugo’s heavy boots thudded softly against the wooden floor as he approached you, his expression unreadable but relaxed.

He stopped just in front of you, his tall frame towering slightly over yours.

The familiar scent of ash and sweat lingered faintly, a testament to his grueling day.

Without a word, his hand reached out, rough but warm, and landed gently on your head.

His fingers ruffled through your hair in a way that was both playful and dismissive, tousling it slightly.

A light smirk played on his lips as he pulled his hand back, his crimson eyes meeting yours briefly.

“I know you can handle things here, so I’ll leave you to it,” he said, his voice low and casual, like he hadn’t just brushed past the idea of spending time with you.

As you stood out in front of him, the confidence and courage you had gathered from cooking in the kitchen had disappeared.

Now that you felt this way, there was no way you were going to bring up spending time with him over dinner.

Even though you had spent all evening preparing this relaxing for the both of you to enjoy, you couldn’t bring yourself to to tell him.

You were scared that if you had opened up, he might have gotten angry and dismissed all your worries with his furrowed brows.

Your heart sank a little at his words, but you forced a small smile, not wanting to let it show.

He turned on his heel without a second glance, his footsteps carrying him toward the staircase that led to the second floor of your shared home.

As he walked, his broad shoulders swayed slightly, his relaxed demeanor a stark contrast to the tension that suddenly gripped your chest.

You stood frozen for a moment, your mouth hanging slightly open, the words you wanted to say stuck somewhere in your throat.

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, but you blinked rapidly, willing them away. You hated how they burned, how they threatened to spill over.

This wasn’t the first time Bakugo had brushed things off, but tonight, with the effort you’d put into dinner and the mounting distance you felt between you two, it stung more than usual.

He reached the first step of the staircase, his hand brushing against the railing as he prepared to ascend.

At you stood, something inside you snapped—a small but resolute voice urging you not to let the moment slip by.

Swallowing hard, you gathered the courage you had left, your voice trembling slightly but steady enough to cut through the air.

“Can I go too?”

Bakugo paused mid-step, his back still facing you, as the silence stretched between you both.

For a moment, you wondered if he had even heard you or if he’d continue up the stairs without a response.

Then, he turned his head slightly, revealing his side profile, his crimson eyes glancing at you.

“You wanna come?” he asked, his tone even and unreadable, a single brow raised in surprise.

Your hands instinctively came together, fidgeting as you avoided his gaze.

“Yeah,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. Gathering a bit more courage, you glanced up at him, noticing his blank expression.

It only lasted a second before you looked down again, unsure how your request would be received. “I mean, if that’s okay…”

Bakugo stared at you for a beat longer, his brow still raised as if trying to gauge your seriousness.

Then, his features softened, his raised brow lowering as he gave a small, nonchalant nod.

“Yeah, uh, sure,” he said, his voice carrying a casualness that made it hard to tell how he really felt.

Without another word, he turned back toward the stairs.

Relief washed over you, and a small smile crept onto your face as you followed his movements with your eyes.

It wasn’t much, but his agreement made you feel a little better, a small step toward closing the gap that had been forming between you two.

As Bakugo reached the first step of the staircase, he stopped again, his hand on the railing.

He turned his head just enough to look back at you, his expression neutral but firm.

“I’m leaving by 6, so get ready,” he said, his tone leaving no room for negotiation.

Then, without waiting for a response, he ascended the stairs, his heavy footsteps echoing through the quiet house.

You stood there in the kitchen, your smile slowly fading as his words sank in.

Glancing at the half-finished dinner you’d worked so hard on, your arms dropped to your sides, mirroring the exhaustion settling in your chest.

The kitchen felt colder now, emptier, as you stood there alone, staring at the plans you’d made that now felt insignificant.

With a deep breath, you tried to shake off the weight of disappointment, forcing yourself to move and tidy up the counter.

But no matter how much you willed yourself to focus on the task at hand, the sting of his casual dismissal lingered, leaving a quiet ache in its wake.

───────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────────────

The soft hum of the Porsche's engine filled the quiet evening air as Bakugo sat in the driver’s seat, his hand drumming absentmindedly on the steering wheel.

His gaze occasionally flicked toward the house, his sharp crimson eyes scanning for any sign of you.

The minutes ticked by, and though he didn’t say it out loud, he was growing impatient.

But there was a part of him that understood why you were taking your time—he had sprung this last-minute outing on you, and you deserved a moment to get ready properly.

Inside, you were slipping on your white Converse, carefully tying the laces with precision.

The finishing touch to your outfit had just been added—a chic combination of blue jeans, a navy blue tank top, and a white cardigan that fell perfectly against your frame.

You smoothed down the fabric, giving yourself a once-over in the mirror by the door.

Your navy blue purse rested comfortably on your shoulder, and the messy bun you’d styled earlier sat perfectly atop your head, with the white headband completing the look.

Satisfied, you grabbed your keys and reached for the door handle.

As you stepped outside, the soft glow of the porch light illuminated your figure.

The evening air was cool against your skin, and the faint scent of freshly cut grass lingered.

You glanced toward the sleek black Porsche parked in the driveway, where Bakugo sat waiting for you.

Inside the car, Bakugo looked up as the light from the open door seeped out, drawing his attention.

His sharp gaze landed on you, and for a moment, his breath hitched.

You looked stunning—effortlessly chic yet understated, the kind of beauty that didn’t need to try too hard.

The way the soft curls framed your face, the navy blue of your tank top complementing your skin, and the casual elegance of your outfit made his heart skip a beat.

He blinked, trying to maintain his usual composure, but the faintest tint of pink crept onto his cheeks, betraying him.

It was subtle, just enough to hint at the effect you had on him, but it was there.

His grip on the steering wheel tightened slightly as he tore his eyes away for a brief second, trying to recover.

"Damn," he muttered under his breath, glancing at the dashboard as if it could somehow distract him.

But his gaze inevitably drifted back to you, his expression softening in a way only you could bring out in him.

He didn't say anything just yet—he wasn’t the type to gush—but the way his cheeks betrayed a rare blush spoke volumes.

The soft hum of the Porsche’s engine was steady as Bakugo sat, his hand draped nonchalantly over the steering wheel while the other rested against his mouth.

His sharp crimson eyes flicked away from you as you descended the steps toward the car, trying to keep his focus elsewhere.

The blush that had crept onto his cheeks earlier lingered faintly, and though he wouldn’t admit it, seeing you like this had thrown him off his usual composure.

You opened the passenger door with care, stepping into the car and adjusting yourself in the plush seat.

The faint scent of Bakugo’s cologne mingled with the new-car smell, giving the cabin a warmth that was uniquely him.

As you closed the door gently behind you, you glanced up to see him leaning against the driver’s side, his elbow propped on the car door and his hand casually gripping the wheel.

His relaxed posture was natural, but the way his eyes darted toward you from the corners of his vision betrayed a subtle curiosity.

“Sorry I took so long,” you said softly, brushing a loose curl behind your ear.

Your voice broke the quiet tension, and you weren’t sure if you imagined his lips twitching into a faint smirk.

“It’s fine,” he replied, his tone gruff yet calm, as he adjusted himself in the seat and placed both hands on the wheel.

Hearing the simplicity of his response made you smile, a quiet warmth blooming in your chest.

You carefully removed your bag from your shoulder, placing it neatly on your lap.

Bakugo, meanwhile, shifted the car into reverse, the soft rumble of the engine vibrating beneath you as he backed out of the driveway with precision.

You stole a quick glance at him from the corners of your eyes.

The streetlights outside cast a warm, golden hue that framed his sharp jawline and stern features as he focused on maneuvering the car.

He looked so effortlessly confident, so in control—it was hard not to admire him.

Reaching up, you flipped open the vanity mirror above your head, giving yourself a quick once-over.

You smoothed down a stray curl and checked your lipstick, making sure everything was still in place.

Satisfied, you closed the mirror with a soft click and adjusted in your seat, letting your gaze wander back to him.

The quiet of the ride was broken only by the sound of the tires rolling over asphalt and the faint hum of the radio playing low in the background.

You bit your lip lightly, debating whether or not to say what had been on your mind.

Finally, you took a small breath, your fingers beginning to fidget nervously with the strap of your bag.

“Sooo…” you began, your voice tentative as you glanced out the window, gathering your thoughts.

Bakugo didn’t respond immediately, his focus remaining on the road ahead. His silence urged you to continue, so you did.

“How do I look?” you asked, your tone light yet tinged with curiosity.

Your gaze flickered toward him briefly before quickly looking back down at your lap, where your fingers continued to toy with your bag strap.

The quiet hum of the car filled the space between you and Bakugo, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife.

His eyes were fixed on the road, one hand on the wheel, while the other rested lazily on the gear shift.

You waited patiently, watching him through your peripheral vision, hoping for some kind of reaction to your question.

He didn’t answer immediately, his gaze momentarily darting toward you before returning to the street ahead.

The streetlights flickered as they passed, casting warm, golden hues across his sharp features.

His silence stretched on, and for a moment, you wondered if he hadn’t heard you.

Finally, Bakugo turned his head slightly, his crimson eyes flickering toward you.

His gaze traveled up and down, taking in the effort you’d put into your outfit—the way your cardigan fell over your tank top, the way your jeans fit perfectly, and the way you’d styled your hair just so.

His expression remained stoic, but his eyes lingered just a beat longer than usual before he turned back to the road.

“You look,” he began, his voice even though there was a slight edge of hesitation.

He glanced at you again, briefly meeting your expectant gaze before focusing back on the street.

You could see his jaw tighten slightly, as if he were searching for the right words. “Good.”

That was it. Just one single, lackluster word.

Your shoulders sank immediately, the corners of your mouth pulling down as disappointment washed over you.

You slumped back into the passenger seat, crossing your arms loosely over your chest and shifting your gaze out the window.

You had spent so much time getting ready, hoping that maybe this time, he’d notice—really notice—and say something that would make you feel special.

But “good” was all you got.

Bakugo, on the other hand, was far from unaffected, though he certainly didn’t show it.

His mind was racing, replaying the moment he’d glanced at you and the way your face had lit up with hope.

His knuckles tightened slightly on the steering wheel, and a bead of sweat formed at his temple as frustration with himself began to build.

His brows furrowed as he stole another glance at you.

You were staring out the window now, your expression unreadable but your body language screaming disappointment.

“Tch,” he muttered under his breath, gripping the wheel tighter.

You remained quiet, sinking further into your seat as the car rolled through the neighborhood streets.

Your fingers toyed with the edge of your cardigan, your mind replaying the moment over and over.

Maybe you’d set yourself up for disappointment.

Maybe this was just who he was—gruff, blunt, and not the type to shower you with compliments.

Still, you couldn’t help the small ache in your chest.

Bakugo’s jaw clenched as he continued to drive, the silence between you both growing heavier with each passing second.

───────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────────────

The drive to Kirishima’s house was silent, the tension lingering like an unspoken weight between you and Bakugo.

He didn’t try to make conversation, and honestly, you weren’t sure you’d be able to respond even if he did.

Your disappointment sat heavy in your chest, though you were doing your best to push it down and keep your composure.

When the car finally rolled to a stop in front of Kirishima’s house, Bakugo shifted into park and stepped out without a word, slamming his door behind him.

You sighed softly, your fingers gripping the strap of your purse as you reached for the handle of the passenger door.

Opening it, you slid out of the car, closing it gently behind you.

Bakugo was already several steps ahead, his strong strides carrying him toward the house without so much as a glance back at you.

You swallowed hard, your throat feeling tight as you followed behind him, your fingers nervously playing with the strap of your purse.

You felt small and distant, the space between you and Bakugo feeling far more than just physical.

As Bakugo reached the front porch, the sound of laughter and chatter drifted through the air, spilling out from behind the closed door.

The lively atmosphere of the gathering inside only seemed to amplify the quiet distance you felt from him.

Bakugo raised a hand and knocked on the door firmly, stepping back slightly as he waited.

You stopped a few paces behind him, your hands gripping your purse strap tightly as your mind raced.

You were determined to stand tall, to keep your emotions in check and not let anyone see how you were feeling.

The door swung open after a few seconds, revealing Kirishima’s grinning face.

His red hair was as wild as ever, and his cheerful energy was almost infectious.

“Yo, man! You made it!” Kirishima greeted Bakugo with a hearty slap on the shoulder before turning his attention to you. “Hey! Good to see you too!”

“Hey, Kiri,” you said softly, forcing a small smile as you stepped closer to the door.

“Come on in! Everyone’s already here,” Kirishima said, stepping aside to let the two of you in.

You followed Bakugo inside, the warmth and energy of the room enveloping you immediately.

Mina, Jirou, Denki, and Sero were sprawled out in the living room, laughing and chatting amongst themselves.

Mina was the first to notice your arrival, her eyes lighting up as she waved enthusiastically.

“Hey, you two!” Mina called out, jumping up from her seat and rushing over to you.

She wrapped you in a quick hug, her bubbly personality as bright as always. “You look so cute tonight! I love your outfit!”

“Thanks, Mina,” you replied, your smile faltering slightly as you glanced toward Bakugo.

He was already making his way toward the group, offering a brief nod of acknowledgment before settling into a seat near Sero.

Denki grinned, leaning back on the couch and tossing a chip into his mouth. “Look who finally decided to show up. We thought you might’ve bailed on us, Bakugo.”

“Shut it, Sparky,” Bakugo shot back, though there was no real bite in his tone.

As the group erupted into laughter, you found yourself lingering near the edge of the room, unsure where to place yourself.

Mina noticed your hesitation and grabbed your arm gently.

“Come sit with us! You can’t just stand there looking all pretty and quiet,” she teased, leading you toward the group.

You let her guide you, settling into a spot on the couch beside Jirou.

The lively conversation around you was a stark contrast to the swirling emotions in your chest, but you did your best to blend in, laughing when it felt appropriate and nodding along to the banter.

All the while, your eyes occasionally flicked toward Bakugo.

He was laughing with Sero and Denki, his usual gruff demeanor softened slightly by the presence of his friends.

But not once did he look your way, and that small detail gnawed at you more than you wanted to admit.

You inhaled deeply, forcing yourself to focus on the moment and not the ache in your chest.

Tonight was about being with friends, and you were determined to make the most of it, even if things with Bakugo felt more complicated than ever.

You sat on the couch, nestled between Jirou and Mina, trying to focus on their lively conversation.

Bakugo was across the room, laughing with Sero and Denki as if the weight of the world didn’t exist.

You glanced at him briefly, your chest tightening before quickly averting your eyes back to Mina, who was animatedly recounting a story about a recent date with Kirishima.

“So, get this,” Mina said, her face lit with excitement. “Kiri and I went to this new arcade last week, right? And they had this claw machine he swore he could beat. It was filled with these little red dragon plushies—totally his thing, you know?”

Jirou smirked, leaning back against the couch. “Let me guess. He spent way too much money trying to win one?”

“Way too much!” Mina exclaimed, throwing her hands up dramatically. “But he finally got it, and he was so proud of himself. It was adorable.” She giggled, her expression softening.

“Honestly, though, it’s not even about the claw machine. Kiri and I just… we have fun, you know? We go out, we talk about everything.”

Jirou nodded, a small smile tugging at her lips. “That’s exactly how it is with me and Denki. He’s a dork, but he’s my dork. We go to concerts, hang out at record stores, and just… talk. Like, really talk. He tells me about his day, his dreams, even the dumb stuff that happens during patrols. It’s nice, being so connected.”

The warmth in their voices as they spoke about their relationships was palpable, and it made you feel like a shadow in their light.

You shifted in your seat, suddenly hyper-aware of the tightness in your throat.

“And you,” Mina said, turning her bright eyes toward you. “How are things with you and Bakugo?”

Jirou tilted her head, her expression curious but kind. “Yeah, how’s it going? You two seem solid.”

The question hit you like a punch to the gut.

You opened your mouth, but no words came out at first.

Your fingers fidgeted with the hem of your cardigan, and you forced a smile, even as your chest felt like it was caving in.

“Oh, we’re fine,” you said, your voice a little too high-pitched. You cleared your throat quickly, trying to steady yourself. “Everything’s good. Really good.”

Mina beamed. “That’s great! You two are like, the power couple. I mean, he’s Bakugo—grumpy as hell but so in love with you. It’s obvious.”

“Totally,” Jirou added, nodding. “You balance each other out, right? He’s all intensity, and you’re like this calming presence. It works.”

You laughed softly, the sound hollow to your own ears. “Yeah, it works,” you echoed.

They bought it, smiling warmly at you before diving back into their own banter.

But inside, you felt like you were crumbling.

The truth was, things weren’t fine.

They hadn’t been for a while. Bakugo’s constant focus on work, his friends, and his own world had left you feeling like an afterthought.

You glanced at him again.

He was leaning back in his chair, laughing at something Denki said, his sharp features softened by the rare smile on his face.

It was a side of him you loved, but right now, it only made the ache in your chest worse.

Forcing yourself to stay present, you turned back to Mina and Jirou, nodding along to their conversation.

You couldn’t let them see the truth—not here, not now.

So you plastered on your smile and pretended everything was fine, even as the weight of your unspoken feelings threatened to crush you.

---

An hour passed as you, Mina, and Jirou chatted away about everything under the sun—relationships, patrol stories, and even a hilarious moment when Denki shocked himself trying to fix a broken lamp.

Despite the warmth of their company, a small part of you still felt detached, your earlier feelings lingering like a shadow.

Mina, ever the bubbly one, suddenly perked up. “Hey, I just thought of something! Let’s go to the other room and watch a movie! I’ve been dying to see that new romance everyone’s talking about. What do you think?”

Jirou shrugged, a hint of a smile on her face. “Sounds good to me. I could use a break from all the noise out there.”

You hesitated, but the thought of getting away from the others, even for a little while, seemed appealing. “Yeah, sure,” you said softly, your voice steady despite the turmoil inside.

The three of you made your way to a quieter room down the hall.

It was cozier than the bustling main area, with soft lighting and a plush couch that wrapped around most of the room.

The atmosphere immediately felt more intimate and calm, a perfect escape.

Mina grabbed the remote and flopped onto one side of the couch. “Alright, let’s get this show on the road!”

Jirou settled next to her, her legs tucked beneath her while you took the other end of the couch.

The movie started, its opening scenes filled with charming banter and budding romance.

The three of you fell into a comfortable silence, the story drawing you in.

As the movie progressed, the lighthearted moments gave way to more emotional scenes.

The characters faced challenges, their love tested by misunderstandings and miscommunications.

Then, the pivotal scene arrived.

The male lead stood in the rain, his face etched with regret as he argued with the female lead.

Her voice broke as she shouted, tears streaming down her face. “You don’t get it! I feel invisible to you!” she cried, her words hitting too close to home for your comfort.

Your chest tightened as you watched her crumble, her emotions raw and unfiltered.

The male lead, realizing his mistake, stepped forward and pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly as she sobbed against his chest.

Your heart ached, the scene striking a chord that you couldn’t ignore.

The floodgates opened, and before you knew it, tears were streaming down your face.

Your breathing grew shallow, and your palms began to sweat as you clutched the couch cushion beside you.

Mina and Jirou, engrossed in the movie, didn’t seem to notice your reaction at first.

But as you sniffled quietly, Jirou glanced over, her expression softening. “Hey, you okay?” she asked, her voice gentle.

You quickly wiped your cheeks, forcing a smile. “Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just… really emotional,” you said, your voice wavering slightly.

Mina turned her head, concern flickering in her eyes. “It’s okay to cry, you know. Scenes like this get me every time,” she said, offering you a reassuring smile.

You nodded, appreciating their kindness but feeling exposed nonetheless.

The movie continued, but your mind was elsewhere.

The female lead’s words echoed in your head, intertwining with your own unspoken feelings.

“I feel invisible to you.”

The weight of those words settled in your chest, and though you tried to focus on the screen, the tears wouldn’t stop.

You wrapped your arms around yourself, trying to keep it together, but the truth was, you felt more vulnerable than ever.

The tears came harder, no longer quiet sniffles but soft, trembling sobs that you couldn’t hold back.

The scene on the screen blurred as your vision clouded with tears, and your chest felt impossibly heavy.

Mina and Jirou both turned toward you, their expressions shifting from casual concern to alarm.

“Whoa, hey… are you okay?” Jirou asked, leaning closer, her voice gentle but tinged with worry.

Mina’s brows furrowed, her lips pressing into a thin line.

She grabbed the remote and paused the movie, the room falling into silence except for your shaky breaths.

She scooted closer to you, her hand resting lightly on your arm.

“Alright,” Mina said firmly, her tone serious but warm. “What’s going on? This isn’t just about the movie, is it?”

You shook your head quickly, trying to wipe the tears away with the back of your hand, but they just kept coming.

“It’s nothing,” you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jirou gave you a skeptical look. “Come on, don’t do that. You’re obviously upset.”

Mina nodded, her grip on your arm tightening just slightly in encouragement. “Yeah, we’re here for you. So whatever it is, just say it.”

For a moment, you hesitated.

The lump in your throat made it hard to speak, and you didn’t want to burden them with your feelings.

But the way they looked at you, genuinely concerned and ready to listen, broke down the last of your defenses.

“It’s… it’s Bakugo,” you finally admitted, your voice cracking as fresh tears rolled down your cheeks. “I just… I feel like we’re drifting apart.”

Mina’s eyes softened, and Jirou tilted her head slightly, her expression thoughtful.

“What do you mean? Did something happen?” Mina asked, leaning forward, her tone gentle now.

You took a shaky breath, your hands fidgeting nervously in your lap. “I don’t know… it’s like he’s always so busy, and when he’s home, it’s like I’m not even there. He doesn’t notice when I try to do things for him. I cooked dinner tonight, hoping we could eat together and talk, but he just brushed it off and left to hang out with you guys.”

Mina’s face fell, a pang of guilt crossing her features. Jirou’s lips pressed together, her brow furrowing.

“I know he’s a hero, and I know his job is demanding, but… I just feel so invisible to him sometimes. Like I’m not a priority,” you continued, your voice trembling. “And I’m trying so hard to be okay with it, but it’s just… it’s hard.”

Mina reached for your hand, squeezing it tightly. “I’m so sorry,” she said softly. “I didn’t realize things were like this.”

Jirou nodded, her gaze serious. “That sounds really tough. You shouldn’t have to feel like that, especially not with someone who’s supposed to care about you.”

You sniffled, grateful for their support, but still feeling the weight of your emotions. “I don’t know what to do anymore. I love him, but… it feels like he’s slipping away.”

Mina wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into a comforting hug. “You’re not alone in this, okay? We’ll figure it out. And honestly, Bakugo needs to hear this too. He probably doesn’t even realize how much he’s hurting you.”

Jirou nodded in agreement. “Yeah, he’s not exactly the most emotionally aware guy, but he cares about you. You just have to tell him how you feel.”

Their words brought a small measure of comfort, but the thought of confronting Bakugo about your feelings still terrified you.

You knew they were right, though. Something had to change.

You sat there in Mina’s embrace, your tears slowly subsiding, though your chest still felt tight.

The weight of their words lingered, and you knew they were right.

As terrifying as it seemed, you had to talk to Bakugo.

But how? He wasn’t exactly the type to sit down and have a heart-to-heart.

Mina pulled back slightly, her warm hands resting on your shoulders as she looked you in the eye. “You have to tell him,” she said firmly.

“And not in a ‘hinting’ kind of way. Lay it all out. He’s not good at picking up subtle stuff.”

Jirou nodded, leaning back on the couch. “Yeah, Bakugo’s not gonna magically figure it out. But if you’re honest with him, I think he’ll listen. He’s stubborn, but he’s not heartless.”

You sniffled, wiping your face with the sleeve of your cardigan. “I just… I don’t want to come off as needy or like I don’t support him. I know how hard he works.”

Mina sighed, shaking her head. “Girl, no. This isn’t about being needy. This is about being in a relationship where you feel seen and loved. You’re allowed to have needs, too.”

Jirou added, “And honestly? If he doesn’t get that, then that’s on him. Relationships are about both people putting in effort. It’s not all on you.”

You nodded slowly, their words sinking in.

It wasn’t easy to hear, but deep down, you knew they were right.

You couldn’t keep bottling everything up and hoping things would magically improve.

Mina smiled softly, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. “Look, Bakugo might be a hothead, but he’s not a bad guy. If he knew you were feeling this way, I think he’d do something about it. But you’ve got to give him the chance to step up.”

You sighed, fiddling with the strap of your purse. “I guess I’ll try talking to him later… when we’re alone.”

“Good,” Mina said with a nod, her tone encouraging. “And if you need backup, you know where to find us.”

Jirou smirked slightly. “Yeah, we’ll set him straight if he doesn’t get the message.”

The three of you shared a small laugh, the tension easing just a bit.

Mina grabbed the remote and turned the movie off completely, standing up and stretching.

“Alright, let’s get back to the others before they start wondering what we’re up to.”

You nodded, standing up and smoothing out your clothes.

As the three of you made your way back to the main living room, you felt a mix of emotions swirling inside you.

Anxiety, hope, and determination all competed for space in your heart.

As you stepped into the room, Bakugo was standing near the corner with Kirishima, laughing at something Sero had said.

His usual sharp smirk was etched on his face, but there was something different in the way his eyes flickered toward you, a hint of something unreadable beneath his confident exterior.

For a moment, you just watched him, debating how you’d navigate the rest of the evening while the conversation with Mina and Jirou still echoed in your mind.

What you didn’t know, however, was that Bakugo had heard everything.

It wasn’t intentional.

On his way to the bathroom earlier, he had walked past the closed door of the cozy room where you and the girls had been talking.

At first, he hadn’t thought much of it—just chatter from Mina and Jirou, nothing unusual.

But then he caught the sound of your voice, trembling slightly, and his feet had stopped.

He hadn’t meant to eavesdrop. Really, he hadn’t.

But something in your tone made him pause, leaning against the hallway wall just out of sight.

He listened as Mina and Jirou pressed you about how things were going between the two of you.

He heard the way your voice wavered when you said everything was fine—so unconvincing that even he could tell it was a lie.

And then came the confession.

You weren’t happy.

You felt ignored, neglected.

You felt like he didn’t see you anymore.

The words hit him like a punch to the gut, and for a moment, he couldn’t breathe.

You, the person he cared about most, felt like you were slipping away, and he hadn’t even noticed.

His knuckles clenched, and his jaw tightened as he leaned his head back against the wall.

Guilt surged through him, hot and unrelenting. He wasn’t great with emotions; he knew that.

But hearing you spill your heart out to your friends, feeling like he didn’t care enough—it stung more than he wanted to admit.

When Mina and Jirou encouraged you to talk to him, he heard the hesitation in your voice, the fear of being seen as needy or overbearing.

It made his chest ache. You should never feel like that—not with him.

He had walked away before you left the room, needing a moment to collect himself.

By the time he rejoined the group, his mind was racing.

As you stepped into the living room, Mina nudged you gently with her elbow. “You’ve got this,” she whispered before heading to the group, leaving you to take a deep breath and square your shoulders.

Bakugo, standing near the corner, glanced your way.

His sharp smirk remained, but his eyes lingered on you a little longer than usual, softening for the briefest second before he turned back to Kirishima and the others.

He didn’t say anything, but in the back of his mind, he was already planning.

He wouldn’t let you feel like this again. Not if he could help it.

---

The night had wound down, and one by one, everyone began saying their goodbyes.

Mina and Kirishima gave you tight hugs, Mina giving you a reassuring smile as if to silently remind you of the conversation you’d had.

Jirou patted your arm, her subtle way of showing she was rooting for you.

Bakugo, meanwhile, was his usual self—casual nods, a few gruff “See ya’s,” and a fist bump for Kirishima.

His energy seemed as steady as ever, though you noticed the way his eyes flickered toward you more than once, a slight crease in his brow that he didn’t quite hide.

As the two of you made your way to his car, the quietness of the night enveloped you.

The cool breeze brushed against your skin, and the sound of your shoes crunching against the gravel filled the silence.

You felt Bakugo’s presence ahead of you, his confident stride unchanging, though he occasionally glanced back to make sure you were keeping up.

When you reached the car, he pulled his keys from his pocket, unlocked the doors, and slid into the driver’s seat.

You followed, gently closing the passenger door behind you and placing your bag on the floor by your feet.

The faint scent of leather and his cologne filled the space, a scent you usually found comforting.

Without a word, Bakugo started the engine.

The low rumble of the car filled the stillness as he pulled out of the driveway and onto the street.

His hands rested on the wheel, firm but relaxed, his eyes trained on the road ahead.

You glanced at him from the corner of your eye, trying to read his expression, but it was the same stoic mask he always wore.

The weight of the evening felt heavy in your chest, and despite the warmth of the car, you felt a chill run through you.

The drive was quiet at first, the soft hum of the engine the only sound between you.

You wanted to say something, anything, but the words felt stuck in your throat.

You fidgeted with your fingers, your gaze shifting between the passing streetlights outside and Bakugo’s profile.

He hadn’t said much since you left Kirishima’s house, and it left you wondering if he’d noticed the distance between you—or if it even mattered to him at all.

Bakugo’s hands tightened slightly on the wheel as he drove, his jaw clenching and unclenching as if he was working through something in his mind.

His gaze remained steady, but every now and then, you noticed his eyes flicker toward you, though he said nothing.

The silence was deafening, and with every passing second, it felt like the space between you grew larger.

Finally, unable to take the tension anymore, you shifted in your seat and let out a soft sigh, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Thanks for driving,” you said, your tone polite but distant.

He grunted in response, a low “Yeah,” his focus still on the road.

The quiet settled again, heavier this time, and you found yourself staring out the window, the lights of the city blurring past.

You wanted to say more, to breach the gap between you, but something held you back.

Bakugo, meanwhile, stole another glance at you, his expression unreadable.

He wanted to speak, to address the weight in the air, but the words felt foreign to him.

For now, he just drove, the road stretching ahead, both of you caught in your own thoughts.

The car hummed softly as the city lights flickered past, but the silence between you and Bakugo felt louder than anything else.

You leaned your head against the cool glass of the window, your eyes fixed on the blurred scenery.

Your hand rested on your lap, fingers nervously fidgeting with your nails as your thoughts raced.

What had started as disappointment had now spiraled into uncertainty.

You couldn’t shake the weight of the conversation with Mina and Jirou, nor the growing chasm between you and Bakugo.

You’d tried so hard to keep it together, but being here, so close yet feeling so far, made it even harder.

Bakugo kept his eyes on the road, his grip on the wheel firm.

Inside, he was battling a storm of emotions.

The echoes of your words from earlier replayed in his mind, mingling with the snippets of the conversation he’d overheard at Kirishima’s.

“I just… I don’t know how much more I can take.”

He wasn’t good with words.

Hell, he wasn’t even good at feelings most of the time. But he wasn’t stupid—he could feel the distance, and it frustrated him because he didn’t know how to close it.

His crimson eyes flickered to you briefly.

The way you sat there, so quiet and withdrawn, tugged at something deep in his chest.

He hated seeing you like this, especially knowing he’d been the one to make you feel this way.

After what felt like forever, Bakugo’s resolve finally cracked.

His hand hesitated on the wheel, fingers tightening for a moment before he let out a sharp breath.

Slowly, almost cautiously, he reached over.

His hand covered yours, warm and slightly rough, the weight of it grounding you.

You blinked, startled by the sudden contact, and turned your head to look at him.

Bakugo didn’t meet your gaze right away.

His eyes stayed focused on the road ahead, his jaw tight, like he was bracing himself for something.

His thumb shifted slightly, brushing against your fingers in an awkward but earnest gesture.

“Hey,” he said, his voice quieter than usual, almost hesitant. “Stop doin’ that.”

You stared at him, confused. “Doing what?”

“Fidgetin’ like that,” he muttered, finally glancing at you for a split second before looking back at the road. “You’ll mess up your nails or somethin’.”

His words were gruff, almost dismissive, but the way his hand stayed on yours told you there was more to it.

He wasn’t just talking about your fidgeting—he was trying, in his own clumsy way, to tell you he cared.

Your chest tightened as you looked down at your joined hands.

The warmth of his touch, the slight awkwardness of the gesture—it all made your emotions bubble up again, but this time, they weren’t as heavy.

“Katsuki…” you began, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Don’t,” he interrupted, his grip on your hand tightening just a fraction. “Don’t say it. Not here, not like this.”

You nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat, and leaned back against the seat.

For the first time that evening, the silence between you didn’t feel quite as suffocating.

The car came to an abrupt stop at a red light, but the tension in the car felt like it had slammed into a wall at full speed.

Bakugo’s hand hovered over the wheel, his knuckles white as he gripped it.

His chest rose and fell with uneven breaths, but your anger was a storm now, and it couldn’t be contained.

“Seriously?” you demanded, your voice sharp and trembling. “If not here, then where? If not now, then when?”

Your hand yanked away from his, the warmth of his touch replaced by the cold sting of frustration. “You always say that, Bakugo. You always brush our problems away. You… you brush me off like I’m some kind of bug.”

His eyes darted to you, his lips parting as if to defend himself, but you didn’t give him the chance.

“You treat me like I’m not worth your time,” you continued, your voice cracking under the weight of your emotions. “Do you even know what I was doing before you came home? I was cooking dinner. For you. For us.”

Your hands shook as you gestured toward him, your words pouring out in a rush. “I did all of that so we could talk, so we could try to fix this. Just so I could know—know for sure—that I mean something to you.”

The light turned green, and Bakugo hit the gas with a little more force than necessary, his jaw tight as he stayed silent.

But you couldn’t stop now.

“But of course,” you spat, your voice rising, “your friends are more important! Work, training, hangouts—all of it is more important than me!”

The car swerved slightly as Bakugo’s grip faltered, and he shot you a glance, his brows furrowed in frustration and guilt. “But they’re not! You’re more important—”

“Don’t give me that crap!” you cut him off, your voice almost a shout now. “If I’m so important, then why do you keep pushing me away? Why do you make time for everyone and everything else but not for me? Huh? Answer me!”

Bakugo’s mouth opened, but no words came out. His silence was deafening, and it only stoked the fire inside you.

“Why, Katsuki?” you pressed, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and hurt. “Why do I have to fight so hard to feel like I matter to you?”

The car pulled into your driveway, and Bakugo threw it into park, his hands gripping the wheel so tightly it looked like he might snap it in two.

For a moment, the only sounds were your ragged breaths and the faint hum of the engine.

Finally, Bakugo exhaled sharply and turned to you, his crimson eyes filled with a mixture of guilt, frustration, and something else—something softer, something that looked a lot like regret.

“You do matter,” he said, his voice low but firm. “You mean everything to me, damn it. I just… I don’t know how to show it.”

But you shook your head, the tears you’d been holding back finally spilling over. “That’s not enough, Katsuki. It’s not enough to just say it. I need to feel it. And right now, I don’t.”

Your words hung in the air, heavy and unshakable, as Bakugo stared at you, his expression unreadable.

For once, the explosive hero had no words, and the silence between you felt like it could split the world in two.

Your chest heaved as the emotions you’d been holding in for so long spilled over.

Tears streamed down your face, your voice trembling and raw as you finally let everything out.

“Why couldn’t you have just spent time with me?” you cried, your voice breaking as your gaze locked on Bakugo.

He flinched at the pain in your voice but said nothing, his hands clenching into tight fists on his lap.

“Why couldn’t you see that while you were having fun, I was feeling miserable?!” you continued, your words cutting through the silence like shards of glass.

Bakugo’s eyes darted toward you, filled with a mix of guilt and helplessness, but you didn’t stop. You couldn’t stop.

“Listen, Katsuki...” you began, your voice softer but no less intense. “I love you. So much it hurts.” Your words hung in the air, trembling with sincerity. “But it’s starting to feel like... like you don’t feel the same.”

His head snapped up at that, his crimson eyes wide and frantic. “That’s not true!” he blurted, his voice rough and unsteady. “Don’t—don’t say that, alright?”

But you shook your head, your tears falling harder now. “Then why does it feel like I’m always fighting for your attention? Fighting for a moment of your time?”

Your voice cracked, and you pressed a trembling hand to your chest, as if trying to hold yourself together.

Bakugo opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out.

His jaw tightened, and his gaze fell to his lap, his fingers gripping his knees so hard it looked painful.

You could see the frustration, the guilt, the turmoil swirling in his expression, but it wasn’t enough.

It didn’t fix the ache in your heart.

“I don’t want to feel like this anymore,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “Like I’m not enough for you. Like I’m not your priority.”

Bakugo’s head snapped up again, his eyes blazing with emotion. “You are my priority!” he insisted, his voice desperate now.

“You’re everything to me, alright? I just... I just don’t know how to handle all this shit sometimes!”

His voice cracked at the end, and for the first time, you saw something in him you rarely did—vulnerability.

He looked at you like he wanted to say a million things but didn’t know where to start.

But it wasn’t enough. Not yet.

“Then show me, Katsuki,” you said, your voice steady despite the tears streaming down your face. “If I mean so much to you, then show me. Because words aren’t enough anymore.”

His breath hitched, and for a moment, the only sound in the car was the faint hum of the engine.

Bakugo looked at you, really looked at you, and for once, the explosive hero seemed completely lost.

Bakugo’s chest rose and fell with unsteady breaths as he stared at you, his crimson eyes shadowed with guilt and frustration.

He opened his mouth to respond, but the words seemed to die in his throat.

His hands clenched tighter on his lap, and he turned his gaze to the steering wheel, as if looking at you was too much to bear.

The silence stretched, heavy and suffocating.

You could feel your heart breaking all over again as you watched him struggle to say something—anything—that could make it better.

“You’re right,” he finally said, his voice low and strained. “I’ve been a shitty boyfriend.”

The admission startled you.

Your breath hitched, and you blinked through your tears as you waited for him to continue.

“I’ve been so focused on everything else—work, training, trying to keep up with everyone—that I didn’t realize what it was doing to you. To us.”

He dragged a hand through his hair, the motion rough and frustrated. “And that’s on me.”

His voice trembled slightly, and he slammed his fist against the steering wheel, the sharp thud breaking the tense quiet. “Dammit, I didn’t mean to make you feel like this. Like you don’t matter.”

You watched him, your tears still falling, but something in his voice tugged at your heart.

It wasn’t just guilt; it was desperation.

“But you do, alright?” he said, turning to face you fully now. His crimson eyes locked onto yours, raw and unguarded.

“You matter more than anything else in my life. I just... I don’t know how to balance it all without screwing it up.”

His hands trembled as they rested on his thighs, and you realized how much it was costing him to admit this.

Bakugo Katsuki, the man who always seemed so sure of himself, so strong and unshakable, was unraveling in front of you.

“You’re not the problem, alright? I am,” he continued, his voice softer now. “And I swear to you, I’ll fix this. I’ll fix us. Just... don’t give up on me yet.”

Your heart ached at the vulnerability in his words, but the pain you’d been carrying for so long still lingered.

You looked at him, your tears blurring your vision, and took a shaky breath.

“Katsuki, I’m not asking for perfection,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “I’m asking for you to try. To make me feel like I’m worth it. Like we’re worth it.”

He nodded, his jaw tight as he swallowed hard.

“I will,” he said, his voice firm despite the emotion in his eyes. “I’ll prove it to you. I’ll be better. For you.”

You stared at him, searching his face for sincerity, and what you saw there made something in your chest loosen.

He looked at you like you were his whole world—like he couldn’t bear the thought of losing you.

For the first time in a long time, you felt a flicker of hope. It was small, fragile, but it was there.

“Okay,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll hold you to that.”

Bakugo nodded again, his eyes never leaving yours. “You can.”

The car fell into silence again, but this time, it wasn’t heavy or suffocating.

It was filled with unspoken promises, with the beginnings of something better.

And for now, that was enough.

---

Bakugo’s hand enveloped yours, firm yet gentle, as if he was anchoring himself to you.

The warmth of his grasp communicated what his words had struggled to convey earlier—a need, a desire to hold on to you no matter what.

The silence in the car was filled with unspoken understanding as you both sat there, the weight of the evening settling between you.

When the car finally pulled into your driveway, you barely had time to move before Bakugo was already out of the driver’s seat.

He strode purposefully around the car, his movements sharp yet filled with intent.

You blinked in surprise as he opened the passenger door, crouching down to your level.

His crimson eyes met yours, raw and unguarded. “You mean a lot to me,” he began, his voice steady but thick with emotion.

“So much... and I’m sorry for not showing you.”

Your breath caught in your throat as his words tumbled out, each one more heartfelt than the last.

“I’m sorry for not replying. I’m sorry for not being there. I’m sorry for not showing up,” he continued, his voice cracking slightly as he leaned closer.

“I promise, though, from now on... everything I do, I’ll do it with you on my mind.”

His hands found their way to your thighs, a touch so gentle and deliberate it sent a shiver through you.

It wasn’t just an apology—it was a plea, a vow.

“I promise you,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper, “that from now on, I’ll do everything in my power to make you feel loved. So please, don’t give up on me. Please, don’t lose hope.”

Your heart clenched at the vulnerability in his tone, the rawness of his confession.

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, but you managed a small, wavering smile as you placed your hand over his.

“You swear?” you asked, your voice trembling with emotion.

His grip on your thigh tightened just slightly, his crimson eyes boring into yours with unwavering determination.

“I promise,” he said, his voice firm yet soft.

That was all you needed to hear.

A small, genuine smile spread across your lips as you nodded.

For the first time in what felt like forever, you felt the weight lifting off your chest.

After a moment, Bakugo stepped back slightly, holding out his hand to you.

You placed your hand in his, and he helped you out of the car with a gentleness that contrasted his usual brash demeanor.

Once you were both standing, he didn’t hesitate—he pulled you into a tight, almost desperate hug.

His arms wrapped around your waist, holding you as if he was afraid you’d slip away.

His head rested against your shoulder, and you could feel the tension in his body slowly melting away.

“I missed you,” you whispered, your fingers threading gently through his spiky blonde hair.

“I missed you more,” he murmured against your shoulder, his voice low and filled with emotion.

You stayed like that for a while, wrapped up in each other’s warmth, the world around you fading into insignificance.

It was as if time had paused, giving you both a chance to reconnect, to heal.

When he finally pulled back, his hands still rested on your waist, and his gaze locked onto yours.

The intensity in his eyes took your breath away, and before you could say anything, he leaned in, capturing your lips in a deep, passionate kiss.

It wasn’t just a kiss—it was an apology, a promise, a declaration.

His lips moved against yours with a fervor that made your knees weak, his hands tightening slightly on your waist as if to ground himself.

You responded just as passionately, pouring every ounce of love, frustration, and hope into the kiss.

When you finally pulled apart, both of you were breathless, your foreheads resting together.

His crimson eyes softened as he looked at you, a small, genuine smile tugging at his lips.

“Thank you,” he said softly. “For not giving up on me.”

You smiled back, your hand coming up to cup his cheek. “Just don’t make me regret it.”

He chuckled softly, his voice lighter than it had been all evening. “I won’t. I swear.”

In that moment, standing together in the driveway under the soft glow of the porch light, you felt something shift between you.

A new beginning, built on honesty and love. And for the first time in a long time, you believed things could truly get better.

ADULT BAKUGO FANFICTION

[thetxtdevil]

Hybrid TXT Thoughts

content: nsfw/smut, hybrid, human fem.reader, very vague smut, p in v, no wrap, cuddlefuck, mention of somnophilia, biting/nibbling, pool sex, outdoor sex, kai's scenario mentions mental health, let me know if I'm forgetting anything

average word count: 380 (each member)

the devil's note: thank @fairyofshampgyu for inspiring me :) I did use different animals for the boys because I wanted to be different 😎 I hope you enjoy!!!

Panda!Yeonjun 🐼

Yeonjun is a unique hybrid. It often leaves people guessing what he is as he seems docile but his body is big and broad body makes them think otherwise. It's not until they stop and admire Yeonjun’s smokey eyes, small round black ears hidden in his dark hair, and his cheeks lifting in a happy grin is when they can identify that Yeonjun is a panda hybrid. Panda!Yeonjun is a chill addition to your home most of the time laying around snacking on various foods. He’s so cute when lounging on the sofa you just want to snuggle your big bear, and he will never stop you from doing so. Panda!Yeonjun may be lazy at times but he does put in the effort to show his appreciation towards you. Yeonjun cooks for you and keeps you company. Panda’s are vocal so he wants to hear about your day and talk about everything and anything. Panda!Yeonjun doesn’t like confrontation though, so when he hears you masturbating in your room he doesn’t say anything. He’s too lazy to move and give you privacy, it's not like he would, he actually likes just listening to you, the wet sounds, pathetic whines, and your smell are nice.

However, one day something washes over Panda!Yeonjun and his tired eyes feel more alert. His body is fully awake and he’s not in the mood to just hear you. Continuously walking back and forth in front of your door, it wasn’t until you walked up to him and asked what was wrong is when he lunged at you. Big hands pawing at your body, knocking you into your comfy bed, and just like how Yeonjun is vocal in a normal setting he’s blabbering during sex. Telling you all the dirty things he wants to do to you, “Do you not realize that I can sense that you touch yourself, and how you’d be happier if you asked for my help?” His long dick pushes into your cunt hitting where your fingers couldn’t touch, and he made sure you always had relief when doing it with him. Pandas love to eat so it’s natural that Yeonjun loves to eat you out. He loves making love in the laziest ways, he was so grateful when you taught him that he didn’t have to do the most elaborate things in bed and instead, he can easily spoon you into heaven. Also, somnophilia… preferably him receiving it.

Raccoon!Soobin 🦝

Such a cute not-so-little thing. Raccoon!Soobin stands awkwardly with his ringlet tail swishing behind him as he waits for you to finish your food. You had to convince him to stop feeling like he has to eat your scraps and that he can eat freshly made food. Your heart gushes when you see Soobin’s dark circles surrounding his thankful glimmering eyes. Raccoon!Soobin is very active at night, dark eye bags worsen when he stares at the bright screen of your TV as he plays video games. You had to start inviting your friends over during late afternoons just so they could see your hybrid. You’d giggle every time your friends would gush over Raccoon!Soobin, his little ears standing up and his striped tail standing tail liking the attention of your friends. He's usually sweet and kind however, one game night with your friends he was looking for someone to demolish. Getting into arguments and winning every round simply from his annoying behavior. 

When your friends leave, you turn to your heels wanting to punish Raccoon!Soobin for his behavior, to your surprise he was sweet and cuddly again. Rubbing his head all over you, if you turned your head to somewhere else other than him, he’ll whine. Pouty lips grazing your neck, “Weren’t you impressed by my gaming skills tonight? Did I do good?” His words and the bulge poking at your leg made you realize that his behavior tonight was that he wanted to show off how good of a mate he is. You may be weak for Raccoon!Soobin but you let him have his way eating you out and making sure he has seconds and leftovers. Then showing off his length to stuff into his pretty little owner’s cunt. Little nibbles here and there but scratches a lot. Groans when your leave red trails on his back. Raccoon!Soobin is very curious about your presence in bed so he’ll be at it until dawn and then you’re trapped under his sleeping body.

Otter!Beomgyu 🦦

Such a gentle little creature, so soft so cuddly, content with life. Otter!Beomgyu’s long brown hair permanently has wet tips and the same goes for his sleek tail. If he’s not in your bathtub he’s in the apartment’s community pool. You’re happy when he’s calm and sleepy, Otter!Beomgyu gives the best hugs when sleeping. Always spooning each other, he thrives when he has arms wrapped around him. But of course, he needs to use all of his energy before he can settle. Hand in hand walking to the community pool you arrive to find it mostly empty except for one guy doing laps. Beomgyu is bummed, otters a territorial and this is his territory, the word “community” is not a thing when he’s in there. What really sets him off is when he notices your lingering eyes on the muscular man in the pool. Imagine his big dark eyes full of distraught, pink lips in a big pout, and his little otter ears bending down. Otter!Beomgyu rushes to the edge of the water and dives in begging you to watch him do tricks. He glides through the water practically racing the other guy, you feel yourself getting dizzy watching the hybrid swirl through the pool.

Eventually, Otter!Gyu’s hectic playing made the other guy run for his money, or so Gyu thought. Floating on his back, giggling to himself as he watches the man leave, his attention is right back to you. “Come on, y/n, want you to play with me!” You shake your head, and you tell him he’s been in there for too long but when you get close to the edge the otter’s paw grabs onto you pulling into the pool. You gasp at the sudden sensation, not only by the cold water but by the exploring hands of Beomgyu. Before you know it you’re pushed against the cement wall as Otter!Beomgyu sucks hickeys onto your neck letting everyone know that you’re his. And his cum in the pool will also let everyone know that the place is his… Shower and bathtub sex believer, imagine Gyu lighting candles and surrounding the tub *sigh* so romantic. Otters rub their faces and hair for reasons but Beomgyu’s reason is to turn him on. Carding your fingers through his hair will make him cum so hard.

Squirrel!Taehyun 🐿️

Such a cute hybrid but don’t tell that to his face, Squirrel!Taehyun is a feisty little thing. He might be tiny but he works out to the point that it makes you a little afraid. Watching him at the gym go from one machine to the next in a flash, jumping everywhere wanting to try something new is the most entertaining thing. When Squirrel!Taehyun is not active he likes to follow you around helping you with the most mundane things all the while making cute little noises as a sign of admiration. He is playful in a way that he likes to tickle you with his tail. The first time you got the hybrid you hugged him close and couldn’t stop yourself from giggling from the fluff of his tail. Squirrel!Taehyun doesn’t talk about his feelings much so you use his tail to translate what's on his mind. He also uses the fluff of his tail to his advantage, after an argument he’ll tickle you until you smile, when you’re cold he’ll wrap his tail around you and this gets him closer to you.

Squirrel!Taehyun loves the outdoors, the fresh green grass, the warmth of the sun, and how beautiful you look sitting next to him on the picnic blanket. Reaching your hand for the last strawberry you then run into Tyun’s hand reaching for the same thing. He’s quick to grab fruit holding it up away from you. Whining, “you had more than enough give it to me.” You climb on top of the hybrid reaching for the strawberry but in a blink, you’re on the ground with the squirrel on top of you. A little smirk creeps on his face watching you squirm, biting the strawberry then kissing you sharing the fruit. He was quite thankful that you were in a dress and in the backyard so it was easy access to fuck you right there. Since then Squirrel!Taehyun begs you to have a treehouse in the backyard so that he can have a special place to read and do other things… Don’t be surprised when he pulls you into the ultimate fuck sessions in the treehouse. Something about the outdoors just gets his instincts going. The cool breeze makes your nipples harden and the scent of wood results in Taehyun fucking you in all positions. Just imagine shelves full of books and toys.

Service Dog!Huening Kai 🐕‍🦺

The first time meeting each other was a breeze, instantly clicking, making jokes, and being comfortable with each other’s presence. Puppy!Kai is playful and cuddly, always up for adventure with you even if it's going from the living room to your bedroom. However, He gets a little too comfortable when you have an episode with him for the first time Service Dog!Kai freezes. He sensed something in the air, he knew that you seemed off, it wasn’t until you called out for him he was stunned but instantly went into work mode. Service Dog!Kai is there sitting next to you, nosing you to sense any change to your current state. Poor Puppy!Kai will never forgive himself after that moment, you try again and again to tell him that it’s okay, mistakes happen, but he’s stubborn. Service Dog!Kai is also stubborn about your health, he will not let you up until your heart rate is appropriate. He is ready for anything, pills? He has a bag full of them. Sweet treat? Has the mobile app ready. Your big, sweet puppy links arms with you everywhere you go and makes sure that he’ll never falter when you have an episode.

After a day full of stressors and being overstimulated, Service Dog!Kai leads you to your bed where you two nap until dusk. Kai can sense your resolved mood, your scent is calmer, and your heart rate is settled, you also start to cling to him more. Your gentle hands scratching Puppy!Kai’s black-folded ears causing small whimpers to escape his lips. Crawling up to you, he focuses on your body language reading that you’re comfortable. You sandwich the hybrid’s handsome face with your hands making Kai’s fluffy black tail wag wildly. You then pull him to kiss you. His whole body covers you like a warm blanket, kissing you softly, repeatedly asking “Is this ok?” “Are you comfortable?” Your kisses get more passionate and hungry, it makes it hard for Kai to hold back. Puppy!Kai quickly learns how sex reduces anxiety, he loves sensing your arousal state while sucking on your tit as his fingers play with your clit. Puppy!Kai now always asks for sex as a remedy, wanting your mind to just think of him if not fucked dumb. 

A nuisance,

TxT's Devil 🐾

taglist: @naoristerling, @inkigayocamman, @izzyy-stuff, @incogrio, @blue-moon-514

divider: @bernardsbendystraws

[wwooyology]

A Little Persuasion | J.YH

「pairing」 : bf!yunho x fem!reader 「word count」 : 2.6k

「synopsis」 : even when you were angry or annoyed at him, yunho always had the perfect way to persuade you into forgiving him.

「genre」 : smut with little to no plot

「warnings」 : MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!!, cusing, yunho is a bit of a perv..., light somnophilia (everything is consensual!!!), kissing, oral (f. receiving), biting/marking, unprotected sex, dom!yunho x sub!reader, size kink, manhandling, bludge kink, clit play, petnames (pretty girl, baby, my love...), multiple orgasms, fingering, cum eating, creampie, light dumbification, lmk if I missed anything!!!

「notes」 : me teasing my bestie with yunho spurred on this idea, and it's safe to say it didn't disappoint

You sat on the couch in the living room, phone in hand, as you looked down at the time. It was well after ten o’clock, almost five hours after the time that Yunho said that he would be home. He had promised that he would just be gone for a little bit and he’d be home for dinner and to spend time with you seeing as you both have been extremely busy with work.

You messaged him once, not wanting to seem clingy, but in reality, you wanted to blow his phone up and ask where he was. However, the annoyance that bubbled in your gut would only lead to you saying something you’d regret, so you just opted not to say anything. But you were tired and didn’t want to wait any longer because, at this rate, he’d be out until well after midnight.

Standing from the couch, you blew out the candle that was sitting on the coffee table before shutting the lights off and heading to the bedroom. Once inside, you changed into your pajamas, a pair of sleep shorts, and one of Yunho’s shirts that looked like a minidress on you.

Looking over, you caught your reflection in the full-length mirror that you had propped against the wall. Seeing your reflection, you suddenly got an idea, and a small smirk crept onto your lips. Reaching over, you pulled your phone off the bed and took a few steps closer to the mirror.

Opening your camera, you took a few photos of yourself that you knew would grab the tall male’s attention before going over to his messages. Upon seeing the ‘delivered’ at the bottom of your last message, you rolled your eyes before typing up another text and adding the photos before hitting send.

‘Don’t expect me to be up whenever you decide to come home.’

Yunho sat back on the couch with a triumphant smile after seeing the victory screen pop up; Wooyoung and San cheered loudly, seeing as they had been working all day to get this victory. Hearing his phone ding, Yunho reached into his pocket and turned the screen on, but then he felt his heart nearly drop out of his ass when he saw the time.

“Shit.” He cursed lowly, tossing the controller to the side before opening his phone and seeing your messages. His jaw tightened upon seeing your most recent message, followed by the photos, he knew you were probably pissed, but god, did you look good in his shirt. The piece of clothing nearly swallowed you, and he could feel his dick twitch in his sweats.

Standing from the couch hurriedly, he bid Wooyoung and San goodbye before practically darting out of the apartment, his phone clutched tightly in his hand. He was sure that he ran a few red lights on the way back to your shared apartment, but he couldn’t care less.

Walking into the apartment, Yunho was met with darkness and silence; he was sure he could hear his own rushed heartbeat echoing. Slipping out of his shoes, he quietly made his way down the hall to your shared bedroom and pushed the door open.

Inside, he could make out your still form on the bed, your figure outlined by the faint glow of the moon coming in from the bedroom window. He swallowed thickly as he took note of how the blanket wasn’t even covering your body fully, leaving your lower half sticking out.

Taking careful steps towards your sleeping form, he licked his lips, seeing how peaceful you looked in the moment, thinking of all of the ways he could get you to forgive him. You had always been so easy to coax when you were completely ruined on his cock.

Moving the blankets out of the way, we crawled up the bed, slipping between your thighs after pulling them apart. The small whine that left your lips made his cock throb, a groan catching in his throat as he tried to be as quiet as possible.

His lips ghosted over the sensitive skin of your thigh, trailing up until he got to your clothed core. Your scent was intoxicating, and Yunho felt like he could cum right then and there just from that alone. With a soft groan, he pressed his nose against you, adding just enough pressure against your clit to have your body shifting. 

Yunho stilled his movements until you went limp once more before leaning up just enough to grab the hem of your shorts, pulling them down your hips without waking you. Tossing them to the side, he retook his rightful spot between your thighs, a low groan pulled from his lung at the sight of your bare cunt.

“Fuck you were just waiting for this, weren’t you pretty girl?” His deep voice vibrated against your skin as he pressed his lips against your thigh. A small sigh fell from your lips when his tongue parted your folds before wrapping his lips around your clit, sucking gently.

He loved that even when you were asleep, your body would respond to him; the weak whimpers that left your parted lips left his mind reeling. A part of him wanted to keep you asleep, but another, bigger part of him wanted to wake you up.

Throwing all caution to the wind, he picked up his pace, eating you out like a starved man, causing your body to twitch underneath him. Moving one hand from your thigh, he traced over your slit, gathering your building arousal before slipping two fingers in with ease.

“Y-Yun?” You choked out, waking from your slumber as an overwhelming pleasure crept into your mind. A soft moan slipped past your lips when he pressed deeper into your spongy walls, finding just the spot he was looking for.

Detaching his lips from your glistening pussy he peeked up at you with a lopsided smile, “Hey baby, I’m sorry for being late. You’ll forgive me, won’t you?” His bottom lip jutted out into a pout as he curled his fingers, causing your back to arch.

“Yunho!” Your brain felt like it was on overdrive yet hazy all at the same time; no coherent thought was present. A high-pitched moan tore from your lungs as he latched back onto your clit, teeth grazing over the small bundle of nerves, leaving you panting. 

You wanted to tell him to fuck off and that you weren’t going to give in that easily, but the way his fingers worked into your velvet walls left all of those thoughts leaving your brain. Yunho, of course, knew this and used it to his advantage as he worked you closer to your release.

“Yun– fuck!” You cursed, hand flying to your mouth when he added a third finger, stretching your walls even more. 

Yunho chuckled against you, relishing in the way your thighs had started to tremble around his head. He knew you were close; you just needed a little more to get there. Pulling away from your slick pussy with a lewd ‘pop,’ he gazed up at you.

“Cum for me, pretty girl; let me taste you on my tongue.” He cooed before diving back into your sweet cunt.

His words were all that you needed to topple over the edge, your back arching off of the bed, pushing your hips further into Yunho’s face as you came. 

“That’s it, baby, let it all go.” His words were like honey, luring you on as he worked your body through your orgasm.

“Y-Yunho.” You whined, one of your hands tangled in his dark locks as his nose nudged against your aching clit. It wasn’t until you were withering from the burning feeling of overstimulation that he relented his touch.

Pulling his soaping fingers from your cunt he brought them to his lips, licking off all of your essence, causing you to whine behind your hand as you covered your face. Yunho chuckled deeply as he crawled over your body, grabbing your wrist and pulling it away from your face.

“Don’t get all shy on me now, baby; you always look prettiest like this.” He leaned down, capturing your lips with his in a deep, messy kiss.

Your hand wrapped around the back of his neck as you moaned against him at the taste of yourself on his lips. His hands crept under your his shirt, squeezing at your soft flesh but not quite taking the clothing off.

You started to sit up so he could pull it off, but he was quick to stop you, his lips trailing down to your neck. “Leave it on; you look so cute in it.” He mumbled against your skin before biting down softly, eliciting another sweet moan from your swollen lips.

“Yunho, please.” You clawed at his shirt, your core aching as you felt his hips press against yours.

“Please, what, pretty girl?” He cooed at you as he pulled away, leaning over you once more.

“Fuck me, please. I need you so bad, Yun.” You cried out, tears of need and desperation brimming in your eyes, causing Yunho to pout at you mockingly.

“But you haven’t forgiven me yet, how could I possibly fuck you?” He spoke softly, hand creeping up to cup your cheek, wiping a stray tear away.

“I forgive you, just please fuck me already!” You whined, staring up at him with teary doe eyes, and he could feel his dick harden even more, causing him to groan.

In the next moment, Yunho had his arm wrapped around your hip, lifting them off of the bed before grabbing the pillow next to your head that you weren’t using. Placing it under your body, he laid your lower half back down before making sure you were comfortable.

Sitting up, he shrugged out of his sweats and underwear, letting his aching cock spring free. He then laid his large hand on your thigh, pulling them apart once more.

A small whine fell from your lips at the sight of your boyfriend's massive size, you were always sure that you would never be able to take him fully, but he has proved you wrong time and time again. You were sure that tonight wouldn’t be any different as he moved closer to you, teasing your entrance with his bulbous tip.

“You ready, pretty girl?” He asked, looking up at you catching sight of you staring at him with wide eyes, but you nodded nonetheless. Chuckling, he leaned over you, lips brushing against yours once more, “What did I say about words?”

“Yes, Yunho, please!” You whined, hips rolling up to try and urge him, but his grip was strong, keeping your lower body still.

His lips then met yours as he pushed into your tight walls slowly, swallowing all of the sweet sounds that you made. A choked gasp fell from your parted lips when he bottomed out, hips flush against the back of your thighs.

“I can’t lose you yet, baby; look at me.” Yunho groaned as you squeezed around him, but he caressed your cheek softly. Your hazy eyes tried their best to focus on your boyfriend and his messy hair, but any slight movement of his hips left you on cloud nine.

However, his staying still only made your burning need worse, and you needed him to move. Rolling your hips, a strangled moan fell from your lips as your hand wrapped around his bicep.

“Move. God, please move Yunho.” You choked out, head falling back against the pillows as he kissed down your neck, nipping at your exposed collarbones.

“So impatient, but who am I to deny my baby?” He chuckled before sitting up, grabbing your hips to steady himself.

The first drag of his cock against your walls felt like heaven, but when he slammed back into you, it felt as if all of the air was stolen from your lungs. His pace was anything but gentle; with every thrust, his tip kissed your cervix, leaving you a blubbering mess.

“Y-Yunho!” You cried out his name when he moved just enough to brush over your sweet spot, leaving stars dancing across your vision. Your nails dug into the sheets as you tried to ground yourself, but it was pointless; he was just fucking you too good.

“Fuck baby, look how deep I am.” He groaned as he released your hip to grab your wrist before pressing it against your lower abdomen.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you could feel the outline of his dick against your stomach, but when he pressed down, a choked moan tore from your lips. The pressure left you feeling even more of him as he fucked into you.

Yunho’s whole body felt as if it were on fire, ready to burst at any given moment, but he wasn’t about to cum before you. So releasing your wrist, he moved his hand down until his thumb pressed against your clit, causing your hips to buck in his hold.

A series of broken moans and cries fell from your lips as his pace picked up until he was quite literally fucking you into the mattress.

“Y-Yun– fuck! I’m close, Yun!” You cried out, hand wrapped around his wrist as you felt that coil in the pit of your stomach tighten.

“Cum for me, baby. Make a mess all over my cock.” Yunho’s words were the last straw before the edges of your vision turned white and your body spasmed underneath his. “That’s it, pretty; give it all to me.” He cooed but was cut off by a groan when you tightened around him like a vice.

His breaths started to come out in pants as he fucked you through your orgasm and closer to his own. The grip he hand on your hips was sure to leave behind marks, but neither of you cared at that given moment.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!” He chanted, his whole body trembling as he came, painting your walls white with his seed. Slowing to a stop, he laid against you, face buried in your neck as the both of you came down from your highs.

Feeling yourself finally come to, you opened your eyes, glancing down at Yunho as you lifted your hand to run your fingers through his hair.

“You’re such a jerk you know that?” You grumbled, voice still hoarse from the previous activities you two were just involved in.

Both of your bodies shook slightly as Yunho chuckled before he lifted his head from your neck, gazing down at you with that stupid smile you knew would win him anything.

“I’m sorry, my love, I promise I really did just lose track of time.” He told you, leaning down to kiss you softly.

“Mhm, sure.” You hummed against him but wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him again.

The kiss lasted for a few more moments before Yunho pulled away and pressed a gentle kiss on your forehead.

“Let’s get cleaned up, and then we can go to bed.” He spoke softly before pulling away, his jaw tight as he pulled out of your still-twitching cunt. Willing himself to not get hard again, he pulled his underwear and sweats back on before getting up to grab a towel.

Once you were cleaned and properly dressed once more Yunho climbed into bed, pulling your smaller frame back against him. His hand laid flat against your stomach as he kissed the back of your head.

“I love you so much.” He spoke gently, and you could feel all of the earlier annoyance wash away, causing you to sigh.

“I love you too, Yun, even when you’re oblivious to time.” You turned your head to look back at him as he laughed softly. The sound left your heart swelling with happiness, and you knew that even if you were annoyed or angry with him, Yunho had his ways of making up for it.

@wwooyology | Do not steal, plagiarise, translate, or repost any of my work

𝖉𝖎𝖘𝖈𝖑𝖆𝖎𝖒𝖊𝖗 : ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ɴᴏ ᴡᴀʏ ᴀ ᴛʀᴜᴇ ʀᴇᴘʀᴇꜱᴇɴᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏꜰ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴘᴜʀᴇʟʏ ꜰɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ᴀɴᴅ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ɴᴏᴛ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴛᴀᴋᴇɴ ꜱᴇʀɪᴏᴜꜱʟʏ.

[adelicatebubble]

kang dae-ho dating him | sfw - nsfw | headcanons ᰔ .ᐟ

- he's BIG. his hands, his shoulders his co-

- this man always has his hands on you one way or another

- holding your hands, waist, hips

- he's strong and tall so he'll be able to help with anything

- he loves to give you random little pecks throughout the day

- the type to miss you even when you're together

- he wants to match outfits !

- cuddles all the time. if you're in the kitchen cooking he'll cling onto you from behind, if you were just lying on the couch he would join snuggling you

- does not matter if you two are in public he will still give you affection

- he loves it when you play with his hair or do his nails or put makeup on him

- four older sisters does prompt him to be quite good for when you're on your period

- if you want kisses and cuddles the whole time that's what he's there for but if you want space he'll give that too

- will absolutely walk on the outside of the sidewalk and will refuse if you try and argue

- he still has nightmares every so often so please comfort this poor boy :<

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈ ˎˊ˗ nsfw under the cut

- it's not fucking with dae-ho it's always love making

- the softest dom. he's so gentle with you

- he wants you to feel as safe and comfortable as possible

- i feel like he'll talk you through it.

- handholding the whole time

- always keeping eye contact ! he puts you in all the positions where he can see your pretty face contort into pleasure

- that being said, mirror sex.

- 'keep your eyes on me baby'

- he loves showering you in praise

- 'good girl~ thaat's it angel'

- 'ah fuck, you're making me feel so good baby'

- you won't hear a single degrading thing come from his mouth

- if you're on top he'll softly guide you with his hands on your hips

- but if you get too tired while riding him he'll happily take over, making sure you both feel good

- however if he's on top he'll go slow but deep, making sure to hit every spot

- he's so gentle with you, always checking to make sure you're okay

- 'is this alright?

- 'i'm not going too hard am i?'

- he's just so big, taking him was something you had to prepare your body for

- he makes sure you cum at least twice before even taking him

- 'dae, it's too big- it wont fit!

- 'no no, eyes on me. you can do it.'

- the stretchhh everytime he's inside

- he loves it when you grab onto his big shoulders for support when he's deep inside you

- also loves when you mark him

- hickeys, scratches, bites, he loves it all

- he's not super vocal but does grunt a lot, and his moans are deep and low

- your moans are such sweet sounds to him

- he cums a lot, so much so that it fills you up and spills

- please take all of his load

- he loves the idea of breeding you

- the idea of you being round with his kids turns him on so much

- aftercare is a must. he's such a sweetheart getting everything you ask for

- snacks? already got them. water? done. cuddles? on it.

- he makes sure that you're asleep before him so he knows you're resting

- 'goodnight my sweet girl, i love you'

[swappermanent]

Sugar Baby

When I started going out with Paul, it felt like everything had finally settled into place. For the first time in what felt like forever, I was in a relationship that made me feel alive. We were super attracted to each other—magnetically, almost—which, after years of boyfriends who left me feeling unsure and self-conscious, was a relief. I knew I was attractive, sure, but there’s a difference between knowing it and feeling it. With Paul, I felt it.

The chemistry was undeniable. We were having sex all the time, barely able to keep our hands off each other. It had been seven months, and honestly, I thought the honeymoon phase might never end. We’d built this bubble around us, this glowing little world where nothing else mattered… until that night.

We’d just come back from dinner at a trendy little spot downtown. I thought the evening had been perfect. The food was great, the wine was flowing, and Paul had looked incredible in his tailored blazer and skinny jeans. But as soon as we got back to my apartment, I could tell something was wrong.

Paul dropped his wallet on the counter with more force than necessary and crossed his arms. “Did you hear what that server said tonight?” he asked, his voice sharp.

I blinked, trying to think back. “What are you talking about?”

“He called me a sugar baby, Oliver,” Paul snapped, his eyes flashing. “Or at least he implied it. Don’t tell me you didn’t catch that.”

I frowned, replaying the night in my head. “I think he said something about us being a…‘cute couple,’ maybe? I don’t remember anything like that.”

Paul threw his hands up. “Of course you didn’t notice. Why would you? You’re not the one who gets judged every time we walk into a room together.”

“Paul, what are you talking about?” I asked, genuinely confused. “What do you care what some random waiter thinks? He’s nobody.”

“It’s not just him,” Paul said, his voice rising. “It’s everyone. Every time we’re out, people look at us and assume I’m with you for your money or because you’re older and can…‘take care’ of me or whatever.”

“That’s ridiculous,” I said, trying to keep my tone calm. “No one’s judging you. Why would they?”

Paul’s laugh was bitter. “You really don’t get it, do you? Even though you’re super, super hot, you’re still older, Oliver. People notice. They talk. And I’m tired of it.”

I opened my mouth to respond but realized I didn’t know what to say. I’d always thought of us as equals, partners in every sense. But now Paul was voicing something I hadn’t even considered. I didn’t care what anyone thought of us, but clearly, he did.

The argument spiraled from there, each of us throwing words we didn’t mean into the space between us. By the time we finally fell silent, the tension was suffocating. I hated it. I hated that we were fighting, that I couldn’t make him see how little anyone else’s opinion mattered.

That was when Paul said something I never expected. “I wish you could understand what it’s like to be me.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked, folding my arms.

“It means you have no idea what it’s like to be young and judged for being with someone older,” he said. “You’ve never had to deal with that.”

I wanted to argue, but something in his tone stopped me. He was hurt, and I didn’t know how to fix it. Instead, I sighed. “I don’t know what you want me to do, Paul. I love you. Isn’t that enough?”

He didn’t answer. Instead, he grabbed his coat and left, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

---

The argument with Paul left me feeling helpless. For days, his words echoed in my mind: “I wish you could understand what it’s like to be me.” I hated the wedge it had driven between us, and I wanted to show him—prove to him—how much I cared.

That’s how I ended up in a small, dimly lit shop tucked into a back alley downtown. A witch, of all things, had been recommended by a friend who swore she could “fix anything.” At first, I thought it was ridiculous, but desperation does strange things to a person.

The witch, a woman with piercing green eyes and a voice that felt like velvet and steel all at once, listened to my story. When I told her I wanted to switch bodies with Paul, she raised an eyebrow but didn’t ask questions. “It’s a bold move,” she said, studying me. “Are you sure you want this? The spell isn’t permanent, but it’ll be… revealing.”

I nodded. “I need him to see how much I care. I need to understand.”

That night, I surprised Paul with dinner at home—his favorite meal, candles, wine. He was suspicious at first, probably expecting another long conversation about our fight, but eventually, he relaxed.

After we ate, I told him. “I did something for us,” I said, my hands trembling slightly as I held his. “It’s… different, but I think it’ll help.”

Paul looked at me warily. “What did you do, Oliver?”

“Just trust me,” I said, pulling the small vial of shimmering liquid from my pocket. “Drink this with me.”

“What the hell is that?” he asked, leaning back.

“It’s magic. Literally,” I said, smiling nervously. “It’s going to switch our bodies—for a little while. So I can understand what it’s like to be you. So we can understand each other better.”

Paul stared at me like I’d lost my mind. “You can’t be serious.”

“I am,” I said firmly. “I know it’s crazy, but… I love you, Paul. And I’ll do whatever it takes to make this work. Please.”

He hesitated, but eventually, he sighed and reached for the vial. “This is insane,” he muttered. “But fine. Let’s do it.”

The sensation was indescribable. A rush of heat, a pull deep in my chest, and then—suddenly—I was staring at myself. At Oliver. My body. Paul’s jaw dropped, and I realized my mouth—his mouth—was hanging open too.

“Oh my god,” I whispered, my voice high and light. Paul’s voice.

“Holy shit,” Paul said, his tone low and steady—my tone. He looked down at his hands, flexing them. “This is… weird.”

We stood there for a moment, just staring at each other, until a grin spread across my—Paul’s—face. “I’m… cute,” I said, looking in the mirror to admire my new body. “You’re adorable, Paul. I mean, I knew that, but… wow.”

Paul rolled his—my—eyes. “Great. Glad you’re having fun already.”

But I could see the curiosity in his expression as he studied his new reflection in the window. “This is so strange,” he muttered, running his—my—hands through his hair.

---

The first few days were exhilarating. I had always thought Paul’s body was beautiful, but living in it was something else entirely. I felt light and full of energy. I was used to being strong, but in Paul’s body, I felt… different. More vulnerable, maybe, but in a way that made me more aware of the world around me.

And then there was the bedroom. That was… an experience. For the first time, I got to see myself—my body—through Paul’s eyes, and it was hotter than I ever could have imagined. I couldn’t stop staring at him. At me. At the way my body moved and how it felt under Paul’s touch.

“Wow,” I whispered one night, lying on my back and looking up at him—at me. “I didn’t realize how hot I am.”

Paul smirked, his—my—hands running over my chest. “Told you.”

The roles had reversed completely. He was stronger now, more dominant, and I was smaller, lighter. It felt amazing to let go and be tossed around a little, to feel his strength in a way I’d never experienced before. And the way he looked at me—his eyes hungry and full of admiration—it turned me on even more.

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” I teased one night, watching him as he explored his new body.

Paul grinned, his face lighting up. “Maybe a little,” he admitted, his tone playful. “You’re… pretty great, you know.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “Took you long enough to figure that out.”

---

At first, being Paul felt liberating. I loved the way people looked at me—at him—with a mix of admiration and envy. I enjoyed the carefree lightness of being in his body, his energy, his youth. But the novelty wore off faster than I expected. The longer I spent as Paul, the more I realized his life wasn’t as effortless as I’d thought.

The first real cracks appeared with his friends.

I’d always thought they liked me. They were always so warm when I was me—when I was Oliver. But as Paul, I got to see the unfiltered version of how they really felt about our relationship. The jokes started small.

“You’re still with Oliver?” one of them asked over beers. “Man, the dude’s practically a fossil.”

The group laughed, and I forced a grin. “He’s not that old,” I said, trying to brush it off.

Another friend, Darren, smirked. “I don’t know, Paul. Next thing you know, you’ll be helping him pick out retirement homes.”

More laughter. I clenched my teeth, trying to laugh along, but it stung. The digs didn’t stop there. Every hangout seemed to come with new jabs. “How’s the old man holding up?” “Bet he falls asleep before you even make it to the bedroom.” “Does he have to stretch before you guys have sex?”

I tried to defend myself—Oliver—but it only made things worse. “He’s incredible,” I snapped once, tired of the ridicule. “He’s smart and successful and—”

“And old,” Darren interrupted, grinning. “C’mon, Paul, we’re just messing with you. Don’t be so sensitive.”

It was grating. Even though they claimed to be joking, the constant comments wore me down. I started to see how much pressure Paul must have felt every time we were out together. I understood now why he’d been so sensitive about the waiter’s comment. This wasn’t just an isolated thing; it was everywhere.

Things came to a head on the beach trip.

Paul’s friends had organized a day at the beach, and I’d been excited. The sun, the waves, the chance to relax—it sounded perfect. But I realized they had ulterior motives.

“Hey, Paul,” one of them said with a sly grin as we set up on the sand. “We invited someone new to join us today. You’ll love him.”

That “someone” turned out to be Vince. Tall, tan, and absolutely ripped, Vince looked like he’d walked straight off the cover of a fitness magazine. His laugh was deep and easy, his smile dazzling. I couldn’t help but notice how good he looked in his swim trunks, his abs catching the sunlight. He was polite, charming, and… clearly interested in me.

At first, I didn’t think much of it. But as the day went on, it became obvious this wasn’t a coincidence. Paul’s friends had brought Vince along to tempt me—Paul. It was a cruel test, one I hadn’t been prepared for.

The group seemed to push us together all day. “Vince, why don’t you help Paul with the cooler?” “Hey, Paul, Vince is really into hiking. You should talk to him about that trail you like.” “You two should totally go for a swim together.”

And Vince played along. He was magnetic, and it was hard not to be drawn to him. His confidence was intoxicating, and the way he looked at me—as if I were the only person on the beach—made my heart race in a way I hadn’t expected.

By the end of the day, we found ourselves at a seaside bar. The group was dancing, drinks in hand, the setting sun casting a golden glow over everything. Vince and I ended up on the dance floor together, and he moved closer, his hand brushing against mine.

“You’re amazing, you know that?” he said, his voice low. His eyes locked on mine, and I felt a rush of heat.

“I’m not—” I started, but he interrupted me.

“Yes, you are,” he said, stepping closer. His hands rested lightly on my hips, and I didn’t pull away. “You’re gorgeous, Paul. You deserve to be adored.”

Before I could respond, he leaned in, his lips brushing against mine. I froze, torn between the pull of his touch and the voice in my head screaming that this was wrong.

I hesitated, and in that moment, his hand slid lower. He gently cupped my bulge, his fingers pressing just enough to send a shiver through me. My breath caught, and before I could stop myself, I kissed him back. It was slow at first, tentative, but then his other hand slid up my back, pulling me closer, and I melted into him.

For a moment, nothing else mattered. Not the group, not Oliver, not the consequences. Just Vince and the way he made me feel—desired, wanted, free.

It started as a moment of weakness. The kiss with Vince was supposed to be just that—a fleeting mistake, something I could forget. But I didn’t forget. I couldn’t.

The first time we slept together, it was like an explosion. Vince was passionate, attentive, and completely unlike anything I’d experienced before. He made me feel alive in a way that both thrilled and terrified me. I told myself it would just be a one-time thing, but one night turned into two, and then three, and soon I was finding excuses to see him.

It wasn’t just about the physical connection—although that was incredible. With Vince, I felt like I could shed all the insecurities I’d been carrying as Paul. He didn’t see me as someone trying to live up to anyone else’s standards. He just saw me.

But every time I was with Vince, the guilt weighed heavier. I was lying to Paul—not just about Vince, but about everything. The whole reason I’d switched bodies was to understand him, to bridge the gap between us. Instead, I’d let the gap widen, filling it with secrets and betrayal.

After weeks of this, I couldn’t keep it up anymore. I knew I had to end things with Paul.

We sat across from each other in his apartment—my apartment, technically—and I struggled to find the words. Paul looked so hopeful, his expression soft despite the tension that had grown between us since the switch.

“I’ve been thinking,” I started, my voice trembling slightly. “About us.”

Paul frowned, leaning forward. “What about us?”

I took a deep breath, steeling myself. “You were right,” I said quietly. “The age gap… it’s too much. I thought it didn’t matter, but I see it now. You deserve someone who’s in the same place as you. Someone your own age.”

Paul’s face fell, and my chest tightened. I could see the hurt in his eyes, but he quickly masked it with a tight smile. “So, you’ve come around, huh?” he said, his voice heavy. “I guess I should’ve seen this coming.”

“I just want what’s best for you,” I said, forcing myself to meet his gaze. “You should be with someone who gets you. Someone who can make you happy in ways I can’t.”

He nodded slowly, biting his lip. “Yeah. Maybe you’re right.” His voice wavered, and I could tell he was holding back tears. “I guess I’ve been thinking the same thing… but I didn’t want to admit it.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat, guilt gnawing at me. “I’m sorry,” I whispered.

Paul took a shaky breath, brushing his hands over his thighs. “Well, I guess this means we need to swap back, huh?”

The words hung in the air between us. I could feel the weight of them, the finality. But instead of agreeing, I hesitated. My heart pounded as I looked at him—at me.

“Actually…” I said, my voice quiet but firm. “I’m afraid we’re not going to be doing that.”

Paul blinked, confusion washing over his face. “What? What do you mean?”

“I mean… I think it’s better this way,” I said, trying to keep my tone steady. “You can start fresh. Be with someone who fits into your life. And I can… I can do the same.”

Realization dawned on him, his eyes widening. “You’re serious,” he said, his voice rising. “You’re not giving my body back?”

I looked away, unable to meet his gaze. “I’m sorry, Paul. I think this is for the best.”

[mylovesstuffs]

OT13 reaction to their s/o hiding their sickness

Request: Hello, I was the same anon who requested the safe word reaction. I really liked the way you describe each reaction, so I was thinking of a ot13 reaction for reader hiding their sickness and them discovering, I am craving some comfort being sick and telling nobody about it :/

A/N: I really enjoyed writing this, and I hope it warms your heart as much as it did mine. Please, remember to take care of yourself—drink lots of water, get plenty of rest, and don’t hesitate to let someone close to you know how you’re feeling. It’s okay to ask for help; the people who care about you want to be there for you, just like you would for them. I believe this turned out beautifully, and there are some (yes, not only one) members part that I absolutely adore. I hope it brings you comfort and joy.

Seungcheol: You’ve been sneezing a lot today, but you brush it off with a weak smile when he asks if you’re okay. Seungcheol can’t ignore it though. "Baby... don’t think you can fool me. You’re sick, aren’t you?” He walks over, wraps a blanket around you, and gently touches your forehead. "You’re not getting away with this. I’m here, okay?" He’ll keep an eye on you for the rest of the day, making sure you have everything you need and probably nagging you to rest. He’s firm but soft, doing everything in his power to make you feel safe and cared for.

Jeonghan: Jeonghan catches on quickly when you start acting off. He notices you barely touching your food and yawning a little too much. His eyes narrow, and before you know it, he’s sitting next to you, "You’re not slick, you know. You’re not fine, are you?" He sighs, wrapping a blanket around you before you can take action. “If you’re not going to tell me, I’m just going to make you relax anyway though I’m a little offended you didn’t tell me.” Though he pretends to tease, his nurturing side takes over. He’ll make sure you’re comfy and always one step ahead in taking care of you.

Joshua: You’ve been trying to hide it, but Joshua knows something’s off. He stops playing his guitar and watches you for a bit, not needing to say a word. "Love, don’t think I didn’t notice," he says gently. When you try to lie, he stops you, ”I don’t want to hear it.” He takes your hand and places it against his chest. “I can tell you’re not feeling well.” He’ll make you a hot drink and quietly stay by your side, serenading you soothingly or just enjoying the silence together. His presence is calming and so he'd remind you it’s okay to rely on him.

Jun: You’re curled up, trying to hide it, but Jun’s a bit too observant. "Y/N... really? Hiding it like this?" He raises an eyebrow crossing his arms and walks over. "I get it, but you’re not fooling anyone." He’ll throw an arm around your shoulder, pulling you into a comforting side-hug. Jun wouldn’t waste time—he’d make sure you’re bundled up, bring you some food, and keep an eye on you. "You need rest. Don’t worry about anything, just focus on getting better. I’ll make sure the world doesn't fall apart without you for a bit."

Hoshi: Hoshi is the type to be extra, and when he realizes you’ve been trying to keep it together while clearly not feeling well, he can’t help but fuss over you. "Y/N! No way! You’re sick and didn’t tell me?" He’s already running around the house looking for remedies, and you can hear him loudly talking to the others about how important it is for you to get rest. He’ll make a big fuss—not to overwhelm you, but because he cares so much. Expect him to bring you all the comfort items he can find, sit by your side, and keep you entertained until you’re feeling better.

Wonwoo: Wonwoo is subtle but perceptive. He's a little quiet, but when he notices your tired expression, low energy and pale complexion he’s quick to confirm it. "Babe," he says softly, but there’s a concerned and disappointed look in his eyes. "You’re not feeling well, are you?" He won’t make a big deal of it, but he’ll handle everything. He'll gently guide you to the couch and ask if you need anything. He’ll read a book to you, maybe bring some warm food, and just be there without a lot of fuss, letting you rest in peace.

Woozi: Woozi notices everything. He doesn't’t miss a thing, even if you think you’re hiding it well. The way your energy is low and your voice is soft. "Y/N, stop pretending. You’re obviously sick." He sighs, shaking his head as he grabs a blanket. When you act confused, his tone is sharp, but there’s a softness hidden under it "Why didn’t you tell me? Do you think I wouldn’t care?" He might sound a little stern, but it’s only because he’s worried. He’ll make sure you’re resting properly, practically force you to drink fluids and might even hum a soft tune while working nearby to keep you comfortable. "Rest. No more excuses. You’re not getting better by pretending you’re fine."

Dokyeom: Kyeom's usual first instinct is to make you smile, but when he notices the lack of energy in your usual laugh, he gets concerned. "You’re sick, aren’t you? You can’t hide it from me!" His pout is impossible to ignore as he gathers pillows and blankets for you. He’s extra affectionate, staying close to make sure you’re comfortable and cheering you up with his contagious smile. His efforts might not always work, but he’ll try to keep the mood light while making sure you have everything you need. He'll go around fumbling in the kitchen to make you warm soup, mashed potatoes and what not.

Mingyu: Mingyu’s protective side comes out the second he sees you looking a bit pale. "Hey, no way! Why didn’t you say anything?" He’s getting you comfortable on the bed and running around to grab all the supplies you need. "I know you like being strong, but it’s okay to lean on me. I’ve got your back. Let me take care of you." He’s practically in full-on ‘nurse mode.’ Expect to be babied by a big baby.

Minghao: He’s so observant, you can’t hide it for long. His expression softens when he notices you looking drained. "You’re not okay, are you? Don’t try to deny it." His voice is calm but firm as he gently guides you to rest. He sits next to you and just quietly asks if you need anything. He won’t press you to talk, but he’ll show up with food, a warm blanket, and his presence. He’d literally take care of everything without overwhelming you. "Don’t worry. I’ll be here with you." His way of caring is to help you feel safe and reminding you to prioritize your health.

Seungkwan: Seungkwan is a little dramatic when it comes to taking care of his friends, so once he realizes YOU’RE hiding your sickness, he’s already over the top. "Are you serious right now? You’re sick and didn’t tell me?! Baby, do you know how worried I am?" He’d go all out—making tea, tucking you in, and probably scolding you lightly for not saying anything sooner. But his concern is genuine, and he won’t leave your side until you’re feeling better. He’ll probably sing you some comfort songs though with Seungkwan, you’re not sure if they’ll help you feel better or make you laugh instead.

Vernon: Vernon is the kind of guy who notices when things feel off but doesn’t always know how to approach it. When he figures out you’re sick and you're trying to hide it, he gets a little awkward but tries his best to comfort you. "Okay, Y/N... seriously? You’re sick and didn’t say anything?" He’ll make a comfortable spot for you, but instead of being all mushy, he might throw in a dry joke to ease the mood. He'll bring you water or medicine and making sure you’re resting. He might not say much, but his actions speak louder than words—he’d stick around to keep you company and make sure you’re okay.

Dino: When he realizes you’re trying to hide your sickness, he’ll be the first one to come running. "You’re sick? Why didn’t you tell me?" His tone is full of concern. He’d fuss over you like a protective boyfriend that he is, making sure you’re cozy. He'll try to make you feel better by cracking jokes, bring in your favorite comfort foods, and staying by your side. "I know you’re trying to be tough, but I’ve got you, okay?"

[tinytennisskirt]

goodnight

summary: tiny simple oneshot blurb- coming home to art after a long day at work. he tried to stay up for you. and he missed you. he loves you. and there’s really nothing else to it. goodnight.

warnings?: domestic, fluff, loveeeee (unedited)

you had to finish up at work so the next day you could stay home, but the sacrifice, though satisfying, pushed you way past the bounds of being awake. you missed your bed, you missed having no shoes on, you missed laying next to art and feeling that easy drift to sleep. you were beyond tired.

you crept to the bedroom, shoes carefully left mid living room. coat dropped on the couch with your bag. it was like now that you were home and the door was shut and everything was dropped, you were just sleepwalking to the bedroom.

the faint sound of the tv murmured from within the room and when you opened the door, all of the lights in the room were on. there was art, sprawled across the middle of the bed, arms up around his head, one leg bent, the other straight. you, dead-asleep-girl-walking, felt just a little bit of awareness come over you at the sight.

he was shirtless, in just a grey pair of cotton shorts. his smooth skin looked powdery in this lighting. you couldn’t help but sigh a small sigh, using what was left of your being awake to strip yourself down and slip on a tank top paired with a comfortable pair of underwear. you were more than tired, crawling under those sheets after turning off the big light. your side of the bed was crisp, cold, and silky against your bare legs that had felt the scratch of corduroy all day. a soft breath slipped your lips.

you looked at sleeping art, his cheek squished against the memory foam pillow, his curls on his forehead, his eyelashes resting perfectly on his upper cheek. he was so sweet when he was asleep, never messy, never drooling, never snored (unless he was sick). he was perfect, he was an angel. he looked like a painting, the way he was laying so picture perfectly.

your hand reached forward to touch him, his hair, golden and soft. he was real, he wasn’t a painting. this was your reality. coming home to him. in the most perfect sense. you loved him more than anything. he was loyal, kind, sweet, good with kids, romantic, soft, and secretly a little weird. he’d meow back at you when you would do so randomly, he was witty and made fun of you for silly things, he really likes having a night light in he bathroom. and you were head over heels, looking at him sleep so soundly.

you felt the sleep pull on your eyelids, running your hand through his hair. your finger traced over his temple, gently tracing his eyebrow, his nose, his cheek, over his lips. you were sure this was it, your lifetime. and nothing confirmed it more than art stirring enough to open his eyes just a little. eyelashes fluttering as your hand slid back up over his jaw and into his hair once more.

he smiled and moved to the side just a little, making room for you to properly lay next to him, “mmm- i love you.” he mumbled, still smiling. he was the most gorgeous person in the world. he threw his hand over himself, patting the place next to him. tired beyond belief, you shimmied down. his tired arm wrapped around you, pulling you into him.

you giggled tiredly. “i love you too.”

his eyes stayed close, but his smile grew to a grin. you saw it in the dim. just enough light to arch your neck and kiss him gently on the lips. he kissed you back just enough. both of you balancing, teetering on that last moment of being awake. “goodnight.” he whispered, kissing you once more on the forehead.

“goodnight,” you whispered back. your then head curled in against his shoulder, chest, and your legs intertwined with his now, you took a deep breath that slowed into an easy pace, pulling you to sleep. as you fell deeper, your mind was only on him. your love, asleep next to you. angelic, smiley, bright. you could do this forever. because you felt just the same way when you woke up to him the next morning, still holding you tight.

[777heavengirl]

kitchen

remus lupin x reader one-shot ! warnings: my beta reader rated it 12/10 angst, do with that what you will. word count: 2,889 masterlist a/n: this is so sad. this is rlly just me partly reflecting my break up onto Remus i AM SO SORRY IN ADVANCE.

You stared at the side of Remus’s face as he talked with James. Your brother ever the animated man, waved his arms around and spoke excitedly, to which Remus could only muster small chuckles and low-toned responses. 

You knew he was tired. 

Work was tiring. 

The moon was tiring. 

His body was tired. 

Part of you was still left with a bitter aftertaste from his apathy. You pressed a kiss against his bicep.

Remus’s lips pressed into a thin line resembling a smile. You knew it meant he was itching to leave. But you didn’t move. You sat, and stared, at him, at James, at Lily. At nothing at all. You laughed when they did, and put your hand on his forearm as to remind yourself of the spark between you. To remind yourself that he was here, with you and that he loved you.

That you loved him too.

You wondered if he had always been this way. Had you just been too in love to notice the apathy? The way he seemed to not even try to reciprocate any energy? Were you just being too needy? 

Was James not bothered by his friend’s lack of emotion? 

You and Remus had too much history. You could not remember what life was like without being with him. It had been years. Years of running up and down behind your twin brother and his friends, years of hands intertwined with Remus’s, kisses first shared in the dark— Merlin forbid your brother found out at the time. You had been happy. For years. Even with the ups and downs and the mercurial nature of his moods. Maybe lunar is a better word for it.

The waning and waxing phases of the way he felt about the world. You thought that might be the hardest part of it all. 

The way he’d be enthusiastic about the future one week, talking about job postings that had piqued his interest, talking about a future. But other weeks, the dark side of the moon reared its ugly head. He’d be riddled with doubts and fears. Days and weeks were he simply wallowed, days where he haunted your room or your kitchen, for hours. He’d reluctantly go to his muggle job, the monotony of it all bringing his mood down even more.

Weeks like those it was hard. The talks of aspirations went up in a cloud of smoke and you were once again left with nothing.

 He always did say that even though he wasn't sure what he wanted to do, he was sure about you. That you were the one constant in his future. No matter what, it was you. It wasn’t as reassuring as he believed it to be.

You tried not to think about it.

You eventually bid goodbye to your brother and his darling wife. The picture of a perfect family, with a baby on the way, in a small flowering cottage. You itched to ask Remus if he ever wanted that. Did he ever think about it at all?

But, you loved him. That was all that mattered.

Besides, you had real history. Too many years invested. If it wasn’t with him, you were probably just going to end up alone.

You were in love with him for Godric’s sake. Maybe that was the reason you could never choose yourself. 

“Have you given what we talked about some thought?” your words were barely above a whisper, unsure, scared about what his answer could be. You could see him look around uncomfortably. Maybe you should’ve waited until you actually got home not walking through the streets. 

“Y-yeah, I did…” his hand gripped yours tighter as you walked, like you might slip from his fingers “I think I should maybe wait a few weeks…” his shoulders tensed when the sigh inevitably left your lips. “I’m sorry I know it isn't what you wanted to hear but- I don't know if the Ministry would even take me… I did see a new posting for an entry-level in the department of magical creatures maybe I could apply”

“Apply soon yeah”

He nodded silently and you kissed his shoulder to wordlessly tell him thank you, as you walked home from James and Lily’s. Maybe he’d actually do it this time. Maybe one day, he’d see his own potential, he’d see how much farther he could go. 

Maybe someday he’d be brave enough to take a leap and fulfill his promises to you and himself. Maybe one day you’d finally be in a spot to build a family together. Or at least plan for it.

After all, you and Remus had real history. And he promised. Many moons ago.

Your love for him was why it was always so hard to do the right thing. 

Because as soon there was some disagreement, you knew, as much as he did, that no matter how upset you might be with him he could sweep you into his arms and all worry would melt away. 

In the small flat, you and Remus shared, under the warm light of the stray table lamp you’d dance. He’d take you in his arms and move along the soft rhythm of the music he’d put on. He’d kiss your temple and swear and promise.

Shallow words that at this point went in one ear and out the other. Promises of a future together, of applications that would never get done, of steps that would never even be attempted. 

But nevertheless, you forgave. 

You forgave four years of broken promises. You forgave the lack of a ring on your finger. You forgave the lack of planning for the future. You forgave his indifference.

You made yourself think you forgave him.

You tried to forget too.

Tried to forget his lack of ambition because why try when they would never want to hire someone like me? Tried to forget the way your mother had warned you about this a year back. Tried to forget the way Sirius called your phone last month from France, telling you you’d love it there, telling you it was a shame Remus didn’t want to go. How much of a shame it was that you had to miss out on life-changing experiences because Remus couldn't. 

Wouldn’t. 

Same thing.

Sirius called again a few days after you visited your brother.

“Is it raining there? The weather’s shit here at the moment” You ask, staring at the window, the raging storm outside banging against the glass and drowning the usual sight of the street bellow. 

“Meh- could be worse, I reckon it’s starting to warm up soon, so m’pretty excited about that,” He said, you hummed in acknowledgment “Have you talked to Moony again about coming? It really is beautiful in the summer doll— besides you can stay with me for free obviously”

You sighed

“No Sirius, I honestly don't even want to ask I already know how that one will go”

“So what? you’re not vacationing at all?”

“The only place I’m vacationing is in rock bottom Black-” you said, staring at the closed bedroom door. No doubt Remus was taking a small nap. The full moon was approaching.

Sirius tskd’d.

“You know you can always come… by yourself I mean, stay with me for a while”

“Sirius…”

“I know I know… I’m sorry-” Sirius tried laughing it off, the chuckle not lasting long as he asked, “Are you happy at least? With him.”

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to say to that” You tried fighting the way your eyes seemed to immediately water.

“I fear it’s a pretty straight-up question- yes or no?”

“I don’t know if this is what happy is anymore” you whispered, afraid to state it fully aloud

“Then it isn't. When you’re happy, you know” Sirius sounded somber “You have to do the right thing, whatever is right for you not for him”

“It is never that easy”

“Yes, it is doll. It is always that easy”

You bid him goodbye soon after.

You chalked it off as Sirius not knowing what it was like to be with someone for years. You couldn’t just throw away the past four years of your life just because what? He was tired? He wasn’t putting as much effort as you wanted?

It could be fixed.

You were convinced you’d fix it as Remus trudged out of the room, hair disheveled as he rested his head on your shoulder. A kiss to the crook of your neck.

“Was it Pads?” he mumbled against your skin, you ignored the way you felt caught

“Yes”

“Is he okay?”

“Yes, better than okay”

“I wish we could go to Paris” you tried not breaking down in tears right there and there. 

It was never about money. You could go on brooms for fucks sake. You could portkey right into Sirius’s little French apartment. 

You didn't ask him why not. Why not go? You drowned the question in the tea he eventually handed you. You had always been more of a coffee person, but much like everything else, you sacrificed it for his preference for tea and its calming effects.

You tried your best to fix it, for months. You’d lay down with him after work, card your fingers through his light brown locks, trace his scars while he fought off sleep, press a chaste kiss to his lips before he fell asleep. 

You started calling Sirius more often than not, in hushed whispers. Tears were often spilled. You stopped feeling bad eventually. It was just calling a friend in a time of need. Draining the disappointment you didn't dare throw in Remus’s face. 

He was going through enough.

You continued to hold on to hope.

You’d nudge him along. Try for new jobs, call friends to see if anyone, anyone at all, could find him an in with the ministry.

“He just needs to apply sweetie- this is stupid” Marlene rolled her eyes, her auror uniform casually unbuttoned after her day of work, she twirled the spoon in her tea with a small wave of her finger. “They’re starting these werewolf allocation programs, they make sure they’re given jobs and such…”

“I don't know if he’d like that” You groaned, dropping your face into your hands. You could imagine him already, turning his nose away from any sort of Ministry help.

“Can I ask why he isn’t the one asking me these things?” Marlene said a glint in her eye that let you know she knew the answer already. You looked away.

“Sometimes it's hard to do the right thing Marls”

“You need to do the right thing for yourself”

“Marlene-” you scoffed “Me and Remus just have too much history- how can I ever just choose me? It’s us”

“Maybe it’s time it’s just you” 

You stared at Remus that night, the soft music that played from his muggle radio filling the air between you. You stared at him silently, the curve of his lips, the soft of the apples of his cheeks. The silvery scars that ran across his face. 

You loved him, you did.

But you also did feel the very worst you could feel. No dancing in the kitchen could fix it anymore. No kisses and fake promises could fix it. Not anymore.

As soft as he made you feel, as much history as you had together. You couldn't help the overwhelming need to cry every time you looked at him. 

What the hell was he even doing? What were you doing?

Any plans you had dreamed of with him were now very quickly crumbling in front of your eyes. He continued to silently make tea. You hoped he wouldn't notice the stray tears that managed to escape your eyes.

You and Remus had what your brother always called real history. He just meant it was deeply engrained, in your bones, in your heart. He said it poignantly last time you popped in for a visit. His tone didn’t fail to chip at your heart.

Your years together weren’t something you could erase. Not that you wanted to. 

You were happy with him. Right? You loved him.

Maybe if you just gave him more time. You had graduated Hogwarts a mere two years ago. 

He had always been more than good to you. Even at your lowest. Even at his lowest. He was nothing but gentle and loving.

Maybe. Sometimes, love wasn't enough.

You didn’t say anything as he finished cleaning up the kitchen. He kissed your temple goodnight. You stayed up, staring at the phone line debating on calling Sirius, again. 

“I just don’t know what I should do…” you leaned against the wet metal railing of your balcony, the drops seeping into your pajama pants. You grabbed the base of the phone with one hand, the other holding the receiver up to your ear

“I don’t know why you’re asking me angel, you already know what my answer is going to be”

“Don’t be mean Sirius” he could hear the pout in your voice, and he laughed

“I’m not- you know I love Moony, we’ve been friends for ages but…”

“But?”

“I love you more” You didn’t respond. “And I think you need to love yourself more than you love him too” You could hear him inhale what you guessed was a cigarette

You hummed in acknowledgment, not daring to open your mouth at the fear that sobs would break your words.

“Don’t wear yourself out for someone that isn’t doing the same for you…”

“That’s unfair… he does”

“He forgot a card for your anniversary”

“It was a few days after the full moon…”

“Okay, what about your birthday? Or Christmas for that matter? What? D’you think I’d forget how you called crying? Every single one of those times” He said, you could feel your lip wobbling. “Come to Paris with me-”

“Sirius-”

“Just think about it okay? Promise me you’ll at least do that…”

“Okay, I will—”

“Right… ‘night love,” he said, you muttered a small goodnight “and for the record…” He hesitated for a second, almost as if he shouldn’t say it. Sirius was never one to stay quiet, he did this time. “Nevermind, I love you”

“Love you too Sirius” you answered, head hanging in defeat. The phone call clicked off.

It really wasn’t about Sirius you thought, as you guiltily crawled into bed with your boyfriend. Not about France either. You stared at his sleeping form.

It wasn’t about your and Remus’s history. It didn’t matter how long you had been together if there was no future.

It wasn’t about what your brother or Marlene, or even your mother thought. 

It was about choosing you. 

Right?

“Remus” you padded over and stood next to the small dining table that morning. 

“Yes?” He didn’t look up from his book, a bad habit he had picked up. He was never truly listening when he did that

“Remus have you applied to the job at the Ministry?”

“Mhm? Ministry…” he still didn’t look up, he took a sip of his tea “No I haven't yet, I’ll get around to it though, I just want to take my time with it you know?”

“Its an application how long can it take?” you could feel yourself start getting angry, and you looked away from him. Not that he had looked up to look you in the eyes anyway.

“I just want to give myself the best chance to get in.” he finally looked up from his book, an exasperated look on his face. You refused to meet his eyes “What's wrong with that?”

“You’ve been saying the same thing for ages Remus”

“We’ll I have other things going on— just because you have different ideas about what my progress should look like doesn't mean I’m not doing anything you know? Because I do, I do a lot actually” He said, staring at you as if daring you to deny that he did anything. 

Of course, he worked hard. You could never refute tthat. He moved his eyes down to his book.

You bit your tongue for a second, but the words slipped out nevertheless.

“Remus I don't think we can be together anymore”

“What?” the tone in his voice was nothing short of heartbroken. He searched your face for anything. Any hint that you weren't serious. “No”

Godric it was so hard to do the right thing.

“I don’t think we are on the same page anymore, you say things, you promise but…” you rubbed your temple, you could feel a headache coming “None of those promises ever come true” you sighed, finally looking at him

His eyes were rimmed red.

“You’re right,” he said, defeated, breathless.

“If you know I’m right why didn’t you just do it? I have never asked you for anything else, just for you to apply for yourself Remus, because you had said it was what you wanted”

You and Remus stared at each other. A blank look on his face as he looked at you, his nose red and tears threatening to streak down his cheeks. 

“Can you say something? Anything? Why didn’t you just do it?”

“I don’t know”

“You never know Remus, but I do and I refuse to wait for you to figure it out anymore”

permanent tag ; @laufeysvalentine @heyyyloverr

let me know if you want to be added onto the permanent tag list ! also please check out my new series bless the telephone if you haven't already! MWAH thank you for reading <3

[writingwisterias]

I know you have so many requests but can you whip up a delicious smut where chris and leon take the reader on different dates in a skimpy little skirt every other week and make her sit on their cocks in public?? They're fighting to see who can fill you up and make you squirm in the most deranged places without getting noticed, and the reader is just stuck, cockdrunk in the boys silly little game... 💝

Fuck Yes, I can...I need them both anyway! Sorry it took me a while I again wanted to flesh it out, I hope you enjoy it.

Warnings: SMUT, MDNI, Public Sex, Degradation Kink, Cock warming, Cow girl riding, Soft Dom! Leon, Dom Chris, Praise Kink Leon Kennedy x AFAB! Reader x Chris Redfield

You got the best of both worlds being in a relationship with them. As they both take different approaches in terms of their affection. It was rare you got to spend time all together and when you did, they were too tired. All of you opted for lazy sex or cuddles as you made them catch up on the movies you have missed. You got all around constant attention and in the grand scheme of things who was going to complain about that? One of them was always home, greeting you with some morning head, nibbles at your thigh and blissful orgasms. Leon always favoured your taste, his cock always spewing his pre cum against the sheets as he feasted upon you. Whilst Chris couldn’t wait to have you clenching around his cock, enjoying the way it split you open. It was perfect.  

Today, Leon was home. You watched him get dressed from where you perched on the bed. The blue shirt hugged his frame perfectly, the sleeves outlining each curve of his bicep. Proof of his endless fighting turning his form into a perfect chiselled statue that you got to look at. With how much you increased his ego over the years you were surprised he didn’t make you pray to it like he was a Greek statue. “Are you ready for our day out princess?” He spoke, watching you from the mirror he was currently in front of. Your pleated skirt fell around your thighs perfectly, just short enough that when you were sat it gave him easier access. The plaid material made his imagination run even more wild with plenty of sick fantasies, his cock twitching just at the thought.  

He had to wait though, he had plans for you today. What you didn’t know was that Chris was back in town. Spending the last few days in the office making sure the reports he needed to do were complete so he could spend more time with the two of you. You will find out soon, during lunch with Leon. “More than ready, I’m just waiting on you” You smirked, your legs kicking out in front of you creating a steady beat against the bed frame as they swung back against it. Leon watched you, the frill socks you had picked out looked perfect with the Mary Jane’s. 

Your style was one of the things he always loved about you. “You always show me up, I want to look like I tried this time” He retorted. You loved his smile and the banter you shared with Leon. The two of you often create bad puns as you walk around together, his one-liners coming out as bad dad jokes. It was something you couldn’t share with Chris, his grumpier more dominant attitude normally scoffed at the idea. Rolling his eyes instead of laughing - though you both swore you’ve seen him attempt to hide a smirk every once in a while. 

“You always look good but you should wear the black leather. You always look good in that one” You smiled, pointing towards the jacket hanging on the back of the door. Leon smiled again, a large toothy one showing off his perfect whites. His hand however moved for the jacket with the white stripes causing you to shake your head. “Why not? It will match your white socks” He commented, despite his apparent protest he still took off the jacket that you recommended. You rolled your eyes, hopping off the edge of the bed to meet him. His hands landed on your hips as he kissed you. The stubble coating his face tickling your cheeks as he began to pepper you with them.

“Enough, we have a reservation don’t we?” You giggled, pulling away to look at his face. Your fingers swiped away at a few strands of his hair away from his face. His hand grasped yours bringing the palm of yours to his lips. They were soft, the pressure light as he smiled against it. “Bossy today are we?” He teased, mumbling against the softness of your skin. Your giggle was cute as always causing the man to break out into a larger grin as he led you out the door. 

The diner as always was fairly busy, the guys favorite spot to eat due to the booths that gave them a small amount of privacy. Leon watched your expression change when you spotted Chris in the usual spot. The smile growing, your eyes lighting up with affection. It was cute. Your skirt lifted slightly as you did an awkward run to him showing off Leon’s favorite lacy thong. Of course you wore his favorite, after all Chris was just a surprise. Chris smirked from over your shoulder as he watched Leon adjust himself during his approach. “Surprise” Chris whispered, nipping at the skin on your neck enjoying how your frame tucked nicely into his. His display bothered the man behind you, despite their mutual love for you, the throple you seemed to act sometimes didn’t exist, only merely two men that fought for your attention and pussy. 

That's why when Chris slid back into the booth, you were tugged onto his lap. “I like the outfit today, sweetie” He whispered in your ear as you settled. His hands squeezed your thighs, inching further towards your covered cunt. The waitresses were used to this, you wouldn’t be surprised if you found out that they both tipped extra so they ignored what was going on. “Thank you, Leon thought it was cute too. He tried to match” You giggled. Chris gave off a low chuckle, lifting his eyes to the man that was opposite the two of you with an unamused look on his face. They ordered food quickly, the drinks leaving rings on the wooden table in front of you as you waited. All whilst this was happening Chris’ fingers now began to explore the dampened fabric of your underwear. He didn’t miss the floral lace design underneath his fingertips, tracing each petal in a teasing motion. 

Florals - that was Leon’s favorite. Irritation began to pulse through his system, his touch becoming possessive as he cupped your pussy. “Lift up a second sweetie” He instructed, stopping your pleasant conversation with Leon. You did as you were told, your obedience to Chris never faltered. You never teased or acted bratty with him - his punishments were far worse than Leon’s. You heard his fly unzip, his thighs bumping against the back of yours as he eased his hardened cock out. He tugged you back on his lap, making sure your thong was pulled to the side. You gasped when his cock slid in with ease, your arousal helping you adjust to his thick length. What Chris lacked in size he gained in girth. “Fuck, So tight” He chuckled as he adjusted his hips making them jolt up inside you. 

Leon smirked at your face, despite his cock not entering you he got the enjoyment of you trying to act casual and continue his conversation. At seeing all of your pretty faces as you did so. “You alright there darling? You haven’t even started to eat yet and you look a little…full” 

Your scowl was cute, the bit in your lip was cuter. Chris jolted his hips again the movements were shallow - not enough to give you the overwhelming pleasure you were used to. It was a slow build up. Your hips began to circle, desperately trying to at least get him to speed up. Hoping your movements would tease him and encourage him to go faster. It was working to your credit, the man had leaned back. His legs now man spread allowing you to have more range of motion. How something he initiated had become your issue to fix was beyond you. 

“No one is paying attention to you being such a cock slut it's okay. Just focus on making us both feel good” Chris whispered in your ear after having noticed your eyes watching the diner full of people. Your brain dissociates causing your movements to falter in case someone was watching. Leon shuffled in his chair, his hand palming himself lightly to get some ease on his cock. “Such a good girl, Now if you just cum we can eat” Chris whispered in your ear. “What about you?” You whimpered back. Even cock drunk you valued their own pleasure above yours, you wouldn’t cum until you knew Chris would. It was mostly the only bratty thing you would do. “You know I won’t miss the opportunity to cum inside you after Leon has had you for weeks. Gotta make sure you remember what I feel like. Now cum” 

Leon’s hard on was gone now, his face was unimpressed as Chris’ words made you cum. He watched your eyes roll back, your teeth tug at your lip to hide your whimpers. So Chris wanted to make it a competition then. Game on. 

It was hard to concentrate on the rest of their conversation and the food you were eating as Chris’ load dripped down your thighs. If you were paying attention to the conversation they were having you would have heard them arguing over where to go next, why Leon despite knowing Chris was going to be here let you wear his favorite underwear. You also didn’t miss the way that despite Chris currently having load dripping out of you his hand was splayed out possessively on your thigh, smudging the cum into your skin. Something Leon also didn’t fail to notice. 

The walk to the next place Leon got more touchy, his hand was around your waist tucking you into his side. His fingers teasing along the waistline of your skirt. He ignored any conversation you and Chris were having, opting to stay silent as he thought about burying his cock inside you – making sure that he gave you enough of his cum that you would forget about Chris’. 

The bar was dark as it always was. Your usual seat was taken, the larger booth that Chris normally scowled anyone away from. Leon didn’t feel like doing that today, instead opting for one of the more exposed tables near the wall. The window, despite being covered in vinyl, still provided minimal coverage. Maybe it was because he was angry or needed to prove a point but his cock was entering you as he tugged you on his lap. Something that happened so fast you barely registered him taking it out. Chris’ brows furrowed when you gasped, your knuckles turning white as Leon made sure you immediately bottomed out on him. His cock was longer, a slight curve to it that you loved so much as it moved against that spongy spot inside you. Of course he knew this. 

The music was louder tonight, any signs of what you were doing were hidden from the volume of the place. Your skirt worked wonders to hide what was going on. “You think I would let Chris just make you forget what I feel like once he’s back. Come on now Darling we both know who fills you up the best” Leon chuckled deeply in your ear. His breath causes you to flinch and jolt on his cock. Leon never needed to do any work, you just needed to squirm enough to do it yourself. He would never instruct you to do it like Chris. No he liked to play on the idea of you believing you are in control. It was more fun that way. 

Your orgasm with Leon was a slow game; he never rushed these things. He held you close making sure his lips or breath teased you, his fingers tickling your thighs and sides as he held a conversation with Chris about the man's latest mission. Your cheeks darkened in colour, the blood rushing to your head as you felt that coil tighten. He smiled as your hips moved on their own. To everyone else it just looked like you were getting comfy, but he could feel it. The way his tip grew deeper, each clench of your walls as you hit a spot you liked. Much like Chris earlier he didn’t do anything. Just sipped on the whiskey that made his head spin. 

“Such a good girl for the both of us today. Maybe we will have to treat you when we get home hmm?” Leon spoke as Chris left for the bathroom. His attention finally fell on you as he nipped at your neck. Hand closest to the wall slipping up your skirt to tease your clit. You both looked passionate, drunk as you made out in the back. No one is paying attention. It spurred you on that all someone had to do was look under the table to see what was happening. The way you rode Leon and his finger grateful circled your sensitive bud in return. 

“Do you like being this naughty? Doing this where everyone can see…me and Chris competing for your cunt. Such a naughty Slut” 

It was too much, his words made you spin. Chris’ chuckle as he made his way back opposite you. You came, your cunt like a vice around Leon as he then came. The thick vein that ran up his cock pulsating inside you as he spewed his load. With Chris’ leftovers still inside you, it began to drip out – making a mess on the front of his trousers. “I always liked the messy ones” Chris chuckled as he handed Leon a few napkins. To at least prevent an embarrassing stain as you would soon leave the bar. 

The volume of their glasses was like a timer, each sip getting you closer to a well deserved night where they would continue to compete for your attention. 

[fuctacles]

thank you guys for pitching in for my bday goal on ko-fi, it means a lot to me <3

<< eleven | 😺 | thirteen >>

Eddie walks up the stairs faster than he should, and has to even out his breathing just like the first time. He barely knocks on the door before it opens, but he did say he'll be up shortly. 

"Come in." Steph moves to the side to let him inside. Her hair is down now, and she's changed her jeans to a pair of sweatpants, looking soft and domestic. Having no idea what it does to Eddie's heart. 

He rolls on the balls of his feet awkwardly, and spots Dart, blinking at him from his perch on the back of the couch. Steph picks up a small white bottle from the coffee table, and he focuses attention back on her. 

"This is a leave-in, so after washing your hair and drying it with a towel, you rub a bit in your palms," she explains. "And like, rub it into your hair?" She frowns, nose scrunching adorably. "Like this." Steph hands him the bottle before showing the motion on her own hair. "And focus on the ends, maybe up to here." Gently pulling on a strand of Eddie's hair, she points to about half of its length. "Then you can let it air dry. It should help with the dry ends," she finishes off, absentmindedly running her hand through his curls. 

He hopes it's a him thing, and not just a hair thing. 

"Questions?" she asks, her eyebrows raising. Unfortunately, she seems to register her movements too, and drops her hand to curl it around her waist. Fortunately, it accentuates her breasts.

Eddie shakes his head. 

"But, Wayne ordered me to keep you company before you go mad from talking to cats." He raises his hands when her eyes squint. "His words, not mine. I think he's just tired of me and wants me to bother someone else for a change. Which," oh no, he's rambling, but it's too late to stop it. "I'm not imposing myself on you, I can go grab some cigarettes from the convenience store. You had a long day at work, you must be tired. Of me, too."

His hand squeezes tighter around the bottle of conditioner. Steph's eyebrows are arched and unimpressed.

"Which one of those was a question?"

Right. Eddie licks his lips, and her eyes follow.

"May I keep you company on this fine evening?" he asks. 

"You may," she accepts with a courteous nod and a small smile. Unfolding her arms, she turns to the kitchen, the last bits of tension seeping out. "Beer? Tea?"

"In your presence, milady, simple rain water will suffice." He presses his lips together. It's either rambling or nerdiness, when he's nervous. Usually both. 

Steph only shrugs, one hand on the fridge handle as she looks at him expectantly. 

"I just ran out, you have to pick something else."

"Beer, please." He smiles, relieved she's playing along. 

She uncaps two beers for them and takes a look through her cupboards. 

"I'd offer you a snack, but... all I have is popcorn. Do you want popcorn?" She looks over her shoulder at him. 

"Salt or butter?"

"I have both."

"Salt, then. Don't like my hands greasy."

He doesn't like his hands greasy in the presence of a fine lady, that is. 

While they watch the bag spin in the microwave, Eddie lets his mouth spit out what's been on his mind for the past couple of hours.

"Wayne's cast is going off this Thursday."

"It's been long enough," she nods thoughtfully. "Will he be able to walk?"

"With a crutch, yeah, but he won't be needing me anymore." He picks at the label on his beer. "So I'll be going back to Indy next week. Or this weekend."

"Ah, that's a pity. We just met." She pouts. 

The microwave dings, Steph pops it open and the smell of popcorn fills the kitchen. Eddie isn't sure if her words were genuine or just a pleasantry, but she doesn't seem like pleasantries kind of person.

They move to the living room, at least one pair of cat eyes watching them curiously. Dart is still in his spot on the couch and doesn't move a muscle when they sit down. 

"When are you visiting next?" she asks, popping a kernel into her mouth. "Thanksgiving?" 

"Probably," he says, even though it wasn't his plan. He was going to wait Thanksgiving out and stay a day or two longer for the Christmas break. But if Steph was in any way interested in him, it would be worth the gas money and time spent behind the wheel. "Do you have any plans?"

Steph tucks her legs up on the couch, gets comfortable. The bowl of popcorn rests between them and Eddie can't wait for it to be gone. 

"I'd usually go with Robin to see her parents, but I'm trying to wrap up on the salon thing. I want to tell Joyce before the year ends, maybe look at places in Indiana starting in January."

Eddie raises his eyebrows. 

"I thought it was a more distant thing."

"Me too," she sighs. "But I'm probably just scared of change, and making it sound like more work than it is."

"Uh, I think opening a salon in a new city is a lot of work," Eddie points out, leaning forward to face her better. "And moving? It's a lot. But hey," he adds quickly, noticing that she has shrunk on herself. "I'll help however I can. Give you a couch to sleep on while you're looking for the perfect place."

She snorts.

"Thanks, I might take you up on that."

It would be weird, having Steph in his small bachelor apartment that he shares with a friend. But the idea sounds too alluring not to let it run his imagination for a second. Maybe she won't have anything to sleep in and Eddie would have to lend her a t-shirt. Something unmistakably Eddie-ish, like a brand telling everyone else to back off. 

"I could show you around, too. I know the best pizza and Chinese places and which cafe's to avoid," he offers.

She cocks her head, watching him with a smile, the small but visible lines in the corners of her eyes crinkling. 

"Planning a date already?"

Eddie's eyes widen. He kind of was.

But Steph doesn't seem repulsed, she's smiling at him with amusement, completely relaxed on her couch, beer in hand. So he shoots his shot. 

"I hope I'll get a few before then," he admits, looking her in the eyes, straight into her soul.

She hums, the smile still present but somehow turning sour. 

"When? You're leaving in a few days."

"That's a few days worth of dates," he counters. 

"You're gonna sweep me off my feet and leave? That's not nice," she points out.

"I—" Eddie frowns. "Yeah, I know," he deflates. Steph's right, he already feels insane and it would get only worse if he got a proper taste. 

She twists in her seat, feet landing on the carpet. He turns with a sigh, ready to be kicked out. He can always try next time, right?

tags: @wheneverfeasible @steddieinthesun @hattsy-likes-pretty-stuff @bumblebeecuttlefishes @phantomcat94

@tartarusknight  @tinyplanet95 @steddiefication @estrellami-1 @disrespectedgoatman

@madigoround @tartarusknight @blasvemous @cryptid-system @hiei-harringtonmunson

@hellowhatthehellisgoingonhere @dreamercec @manliest-of-muppets

@bookbinderbitch @marklee-blackmore @icecat

[grayskies2525]

Inevitable (male sneezing, contagion)

Just wanted to write something super self-indulgent with minimal plot.

CW: This fic includes detailed contagion! It’s gross and I spare no details — we’re talking snot strings and things of that nature. If you’re not into that, absolutely do NOT begin reading this or you’ll have a very unpleasant time. If you do, however, like contagion and messy sneezes, I hope you enjoy this 😊

Part one is just set up, but I plan to continue it with Evan spreading his germs everywhere (unintentionally).

*** 

Part One

It’s a sneeze — a single sneeze. A simple bodily function. There’s nothing intrinsically bad about a sneeze.

These words run through Evan’s mind as he picks at his cuticle while his eyes dart to the man across from him. The elevator’s been stuck for several minutes already and there’s an unease settling in Evan’s stomach as he looks at this man. They’d walked on together, smiling awkwardly the way two strangers tend to do. Then the man had immediately snapped forward in an uncovered sneeze. 

It’s probably allergies.

This is a rational thought to have, Evan thought. It is March. There’s definitely pollen in March. But then the elevator got stuck and the man started letting out chest rattling coughs. 

So he’s definitely sick. But maybe he’s not contagious? It could just be a lingering illness — one of those that hang on for weeks but are no longer as easily transmissible to other people. 

“I’m sor — heh — sorry — HHHH! I woke up with an awful c—hh heh! — cuuhhhh hh —  cold. HH hh hhhhh HH! I’ve been sneezing all  — heeh hehhhh — day,” the man says in a trembling voice before reaching up to rub his reddened, swollen nose. It makes a horribly audible squelching sound.

Evan reaches for strength somewhere deep within to will himself not to wince as he stares at the man. Evan has seen him around the college before, and is pretty sure he’s an instructor, though he doesn’t know the subject he teaches. He has dark skin, looks to be in his early-mid thirties and most notably — he’s tall; Evan would estimate him to be somewhere around 6’5. He has a nice build — muscles visible through his tight long sleeved shirt. His silver eyebrow piercing glints under the elevator’s dim lights. On any other day, Evan would find him to be attractive — exceptionally so. It’s clear, however, that Evan is not seeing this man at his best. 

“Oh, uh, it’s okay,” Evan says, sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. He would rather this guy didn’t talk — that he didn’t do anything that could result in more droplets entering the air they’re sharing. Can talking spread droplets? He imagines they probably can.

“I thought it was allergies yesterday, but I woke up today and I —” He breaks off coughing, holding a fist out weakly. Evan can hear the phlegm rattling around in the man’s chest, and again he has to suppress a wince.

“Sounds rough,” Evan says, giving a strained smile as he taps his fingers against his thigh. This elevator usually only stays stuck for a few minutes. He can last a few minutes without catching something off this man, surely. Maybe the germs from that first uncovered sneeze won't take.

“I probably shouldn’t have come in today,” the man says, shooting Evan a smile that would probably be charming if it weren’t for how tired it looks. “But I didn’t realize how bad this bug was going to be. I don’t think I’ve ever sneezed so much in my life,” he says, sniffling thickly. “And my nose is running non-stop. It’s a faucet. I’m not exaggerating —I’ve gone through an entire box of tissues already.”

With these words, Evan finds himself suddenly regretting his choice to go back to school for a second Bachelor’s. Yes, his creative writing degree has been practically useless for the six years he’s had it, and yes, he does want to pursue psychology and therefore needs to continue his education. But, right now, that all seems unimportant as he looks at the sniffling man, whose breaths are beginning to hitch again.

Maybe the sneezes are stuck? Like this damn elevator. Please, please, please stay stuck until I can get off this thing, he thinks to himself while digging his nails into his palm. 

“I hate this elevator,” the man says, giving a nervous chuckle. Evan suppresses a groan as he realizes this man is clearly one of those people who are incapable of sitting —or in this case standing — in silence.  “Breaks down almost every day. I don’t even know why I risk taking it, anymore,” he says, giving another thick, slurpy sniffle. By the way the man scrunches his nose and closes his eyes, Evan suspects the sniffle produced a particularly intense tickle.

“Yeah, I get stuck on it probably once a week,” Evan says, giving another strained smile. 

“You’d think someone would do something about — heehhh —” The man trails off, his eyelids fluttering.

Evan can see the man’s glistening nostrils begin to flare. 

“Do you — do you happen to have a ti — hih — tihih — tihiiiihhhissue?” the man asks, his voice shaking.

“A tissue? Sorry, wish I did, but no,” Evan says.

He truly does wish he had a tissue because this man’s going to sneeze. Not only is this man going to sneeze, it’s going to be a messy sneeze. Rarely does Evan know something with such certainty, but this is one of those times. This man’s sniffles aren’t the soft kind that can be taken care of with a soft blow. They’re desperate sniffles — the “holding back an entire tide of mucus” type.

It will be fine as long as this elevator starts up soon. He needs it to start back up soon, then he can walk off and go home and everything will be fine and — 

“HhH—hHRGG’sschhHHHHEEW!!!”

Evan closes his eyes and holds his breath. He slowly opens his eyes, reluctant to see the inevitable aftermath of the absurdly loud and forceful sounding sneeze. Evan’s shoulders relax, though, as he sees the man lower his arm. He’d clearly managed to cover. There’s an obvious wet spot on the man’s sleeve, but still, it was contained. Evan lets himself breathe. That first, uncovered sneeze when they’d walked in must have been a fluke. This man is clearly polite and understands the value of keeping germs to himself.

Evan allows himself to smile sympathetically as he looks at the man and gives a polite “bless you.”

“Thanks,” the man says with another tired smile and thick sniffle. “Like I said — all day. I don’t think I’ve ever been sick like this. It’s just sneeze after sneeze. I’m sure my students must have been tired of blessing me. I can’t wait to just go home and sleep this thing off. If only this elevator would HH’REEHH’TSHOOO! HRR AHHHH-T’SHOOOO!”

Evan remembers seeing something on the news once about the amount of distance a sneeze can travel and how many droplets a single sneeze can potentially contain. It was something like 20 feet and thirty-thousand droplets. While this was distressing information, it hadn’t exactly been believable to Evan. People sneeze all the time.  He sneezes everyday and it certainly doesn’t seem like sneezes can be that powerful. So, he’d frowned at the information, but ultimately moved on, mostly forgetting it. 

This information now, however, crawls along back to the surface of Evan’s mind as the stranger blasts him with sneezes that can only be described as soaking wet. 

They erupted from the man with absolutely no warning and through the harsh lighting of the elevator, Evan can nearly see each and every droplet — some fine, some large and clearly mixed with thick mucus. With only six feet between them — at best — Evan can now believe without any doubt that sneezes can, indeed, contain thirty-thousand droplets. 

And he’s just been hit with two sneezes full of them — entirely unrestrained. 

Evan wants to wipe himself off, but he doesn’t know how. Every exposed part of him has been doused in infectious spray — his neck, his hands, his face…. He decides he can at least wipe off his lips, so he finds a dry spot of his hand before bringing it up to his mouth.

The man’s head is still bent forward, which seems to be a poor decision because his nose is dripping terribly. Evan watches in something of a morbid type of fascination as the droplets hit the elevator floor before the stranger gives a thick sniff and looks back up at Evan.

“I’m so sorry,” he says, his expression looking genuinely apologetic, though there’s also something about it that’s decidedly sneezy. His nostrils begin to flare again, but this time he brings a hand up before snapping forward.

“HrrRIIHHHGG’shuuuhhhh! HRR’EHHHTSHOOOO! IhhGT’SHOOOOO! MPFFX’TSHOOOO!”

Evan grimaces as the contents of the man’s nose pour out into the man’s hand in thick, visible strings. To the guy’s credit, he does try to contain it, but the sheer amount makes it impossible. He presses his hand firmly against his nose, but Evan can see moisture seeping through the cracks of his fingers. Evan is certain he's never come close to seeing someone lose control of the contents of their nose in such a dramatic way. Usually adults have a handle on containing the more unpleasant aspects head colds usually bring, but clearly this specific virus is a special case. 

Evan averts his eyes because the situation is gross beyond description, but also, this must be the most mortifying moment of this stranger’s life and he doesn’t need someone staring at him.

Evan feels his own cheeks heat in embarrassment for the man.

Mostly, though, Evan is consumed by apprehension. There’s no possible way he can expect his body to fend off the innumerable germs that are surely trying to invade him right at this moment. Even if it could fight off some of them, there’s far too many to hope he can escape them all.

Evan is surprised to find a sort of peace in accepting this as fact. There’s nothing to be done now. He is coated in germ-infested spray, so he’s going to get sick. In the same way he can’t change how tall he is, he also can’t change this. In a few days time, he’s going to come down with this absolutely monstrous looking cold because it’s as inevitable as the sun rising in the morning.

Part 2

[azrielbrainrot]

"memorising their favourite things and treating them when they have a bad day" with azriel or cassian please 😊

A Good Day

Pairing: Azriel x F!Reader

Word Count: 1,1k

A/N: I ended up choosing Azriel because I'm extremely biased. I hope you enjoy and thank you for sending it in!

From sleeping in and being late for work to getting a stain on your new shirt over lunch, today hasn't been a good day. The gloomy weather didn't help either, you were always partial to the rain, there really wasn't a best feeling than snuggling into your bed with a good book and the sound of the rain lightly hitting your window, but today's rain was too heavy and it was too cold, making it hard to be outside, and of course with your luck today was precisely the day Rhys needed you to check on several businesses in Velaris, keeping you out for most of the day.

You had gotten home a couple of hours ago and had since taken a long warm bath, but your feet were still frozen and your head still aches. You had barely had a second to yourself since you woke up startled by how late it was and it was all taking a toll on you. It had truly not been your day. You should just go to bed early and rest, hoping tomorrow the sky would clear and you could take it easier.

A soft knock at your bedroom door brings you out of your thoughts, quickly putting on a robe over your nightgown before opening it to reveal Azriel, a crease manifesting between his brows as he takes you in.

“Hard day?”

You simply let out a heavy sigh, opening the door wider for him to come in and walking back to sit at the end of your bed. His shadows were already scattering around the room as he closed the door, some reaching for you, always stopping short of touching you lest Azriel reprimanded them for acting on their own. You take the opportunity to study him while he stands in front of you, his hazel eyes searching the room, a spy's habit you suppose.

Azriel had been out all day as well, you heard him tell Rhys that he would be following up on some leads on the other side of the court, - where you were pretty sure it was snowing, - but no one would have guessed. The bastard looked as perfect as he always did, there wasn't a hair out of place and he wasn't even a little wet from the rain.

His eyes catch yours as you take him in, and you don't have it in you to look away, letting his eyes burn into yours. You didn't have the chance to do it often, it was a shame really, his eyes were achingly beautiful, as was the rest of him.

“Are you sick?” His voice startles you for a moment, forgetting that the world kept spinning as you got lost in the hazel. He had moved closer without you noticing, you now had to crane your neck all the way to keep eye contact. When you still don't answer him, he reaches out a hand, carefully placing it on your forehead, feeling for a change in temperature. “Just tired?”

“Do I look that bad?”

If you even looked half as exhausted and out of it as you felt, it couldn't be a pretty sight. For some reason you were also finding it hard to focus on anything but him; how warm his hand had felt against your skin, the attentiveness in his eyes despite the hint of amusement also present.

“You look beautiful,” he muses, a small smile growing on his lips.

“When have you become such a sweet talker, shadowsinger?”

“Just telling the truth.”

You let out a small hum, not knowing what else to say. It didn't sound like he was lying or teasing you, but you also knew beautiful was too generous for your current state. There was also no reason for him to be complimenting you out of nowhere, was there?

Luckily, a few shadows gather in his hand, saving you from trying to figure out how to respond. It doesn't take long for a box of pastries to manifest before your eyes, the sweet smell taking some of your edge off instantly. You had always found it fascinating how he could carry anything within them, even more when you were the one hiding there with him.

Azriel places the box in your hands, watching you open it and gape at the inside with thinly veiled amusement.

“What's this?”

“Chocolate muffins from the bakery by the Sidra,” he explains even though you could see for yourself. “They're your favorite, right?”

You nod up at him, your eyes darting between his and the open box sitting on your lap, filled with delicious muffins, the ones that are extremely hard to get since they always sell out early.

“Why did you get them?”

“For you.”

“But why?”

You can't help but repeat dumbly. It wasn't your birthday and you don't think you've missed any other important date. There was also a strange tremble in your heart, at the thought that he remembered which ones were your favorite muffins, you don't even remember when you mentioned it.

“I heard you were running around all day in the rain,” he says with a gentle smile. “Just thought you deserved it.”

“Oh.”

You look down at the muffins one more time, a wave of inexplicable emotions washing over you, some threatening to suffocate you in their intensity.

“You've been really nice to me recently,” you murmur. It felt like you were missing something, and the glint in his eyes doesn't help with your suspicions.

“Have I not always been nice to you?”

“I suppose you have.”

He has, hasn't he? Azriel has been a constant by your side for years. Always ready to help you in every way he can, letting you drag him along to anywhere your little heart desires, even taking care of you when you are tired. You had always thought of it as him being a good friend, but you might have been somewhat mistaken.

“I'll let you rest now,” Azriel says, patting your head softly as he often did, except now it felt different, butterflies erupting in your stomach as he did. “Good night.”

“Good night,” you answer absentmindedly, watching him walk to the door, his shadows gathering over his form again.

Azriel leaves before you can say anything more, throwing a breathtaking smile your way and closing the door behind him on the way out, and the whole time you can't stop wondering why you never noticed the way he watches you and listens to everything you tell him attentively, the way his shadows reach for you, and the way his hand lingers on yours.

Oh.