#he's supposed to be smiling on the right but it's not showing up with his beard alas :(((((

[strangerexee]

(1) ᴛᴏʟᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ɪ ʟɪᴋᴇ ɢᴇɴᴛʟᴇ ɢɪᴀɴᴛꜱ | ᴇʟɪᴀᴊʜ "ꜱᴍᴏᴋᴇ" ᴍᴏᴏʀᴇ

𝙼𝙾𝙳𝙴𝚁𝙽!𝙶𝙰𝙽𝙶!𝙰𝚄

pairings: Elijah "smoke" Moore x black!fem!reader

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚢: 𝚌𝚛𝚊𝚣𝚢 𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚝 | 𝚌𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐 | 𝚐𝚊𝚗𝚐/𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚎𝚎𝚝 𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚜 | 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚟𝚎/𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚎𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚛 | 𝚝𝚘𝚡𝚒𝚌 𝚍𝚢𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚒𝚌𝚜 | 𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚍𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛 (𝚔𝚒𝚍𝚗𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚜), 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎 | 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚝-𝚖𝚘𝚞𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚍, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚕 𝚖𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚢 | 𝚃𝚆𝙸𝙽 𝙲𝙾𝙽𝙵𝚄𝚂𝙸𝙾𝙽 | 𝚜𝚎𝚡𝚞𝚊𝚕 𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗.

You weren’t even supposed to be out that night.

Whole week had been trash — your boss on your ass, car acting stupid, apartment loud as hell with neighbors fighting through the walls.

You needed a break.

So when your girls hit you up — “Bitch, we outside tonight, put some heels on” — you said yes.

You didn’t even think twice.

Short dress. Glossy lips. The kind of heels that said you might make a bad decision if the right man breathed on your neck.

The club was packed — lights flashing, bass thumping deep in your chest — and you felt yourself finally breathe when you got a drink in your hand and a song you loved came on.

You were dancing, laughing, living your little free life — when you felt it.

Eyes.

Heavy.

Watching.

You turned your head — slow — and caught them across the room.

Two of them.

Tall. Built like trouble. Dark eyes gleaming under the lights like wolves in the woods.

And fine?

God help you.

One leaned back against the wall — arms folded, chewing on a toothpick — looking at you like he already knew what you tasted like.

The other was talking to some girl, but his eyes? Still on you.

You swallowed — heart hammering.

Your friends screamed when the song switched — dragging you further onto the dancefloor — but you kept glancing back.

Who the hell was that? You couldn't really tell.

Fast-forward twenty minutes — you outside cooling off, drink in your hand, scrolling on your phone.

And he stepped to you.

The one from inside.

Black jeans. Black hoodie. Gold chain swinging. Those heavy-lidded eyes eating you alive.

“What’s your name, lil’ mama?” he said, voice low and slow.

You squinted up at him — heart pounding — but your mouth moved faster than your brain.

He was tall in that way that made you straighten your spine, hoodie hanging loose on that broad-ass frame like it was clinging for dear life. Gold glinted at his neck, catching the low streetlights, and the way his eyes moved—

Slow. Unhurried. Heavy-lidded like sin itself.

He wasn’t blinking. Wasn’t smiling either. He was watching.

And it was doing something to you that your little glossed-up, club-ready self hadn’t prepared for.

You scoffed lightly, not letting your eyes linger too long on his mouth, or his hands—veined, tatted, big enough to make your thighs press a little closer.

“Who, me?” You sipped your drink. “I don’t know you like that, sir.”

That “sir” was sweet. Smart. Maybe a little sharp.

And it made his jaw tick.

He dragged his tongue across his teeth, slowly, like he liked the way you tasted already.

“You gon’ know me,” he said. “Sooner or later.”

Lord.

He didn’t say it loud. Didn’t say it with a smile.

Just…stated it. Like gravity. Like fact.

You swallowed hard and tried not to show how hot your neck was getting.

He took a step closer.

Not enough to scare you. Just enough for the space between you to feel smaller. Warmer.

You leaned back against the wall casually, trying to play it cute—but your pulse was thudding. Your friends were still inside, probably throwing ass to the beat, and you were out here flirting with a man who could’ve been the devil’s body double.

“What’s your name?” you asked, voice smooth.

He smirked—but barely.

“Smoke.”

“That your real name?”

“Nah. But it’s the one you need to remember.”

You hummed, glancing down at your phone. Trying not to melt.

You had heard the name before. People whispered about him.

And his brother, Stack.

The Moore twins.

Trouble in two different fonts.

But Smoke? Smoke was the one they said moved different. Quieter. Crueler.

The one you didn’t want mad.

He didn’t act out.

He handled shit.

And here he was. In your face. Asking your name like it wasn’t probably already in his notes app under “sweet lil’ thing in that pretty dress.”

“You dangerous?” you asked him, tilting your head.

“What you think?” he said, voice low. “I look dangerous to you?”

He didn’t wait for an answer.

Didn’t need one.

Because the way your lashes dipped told him plenty. The way you bit the inside of your cheek, looked away real quick like you weren’t all hot in the chest…

Yeah. He knew what time it was.

But still—you had the final move. And you weren’t about to let him play you into giving it all up like a dumb little groupie.

So instead—you smiled.

Real pretty.

You put your hand out slow, took his phone when he offered it, and dropped your number in.

Just your first name. Nothing more.

He looked down at it like it was gold.

And when you handed it back—you leaned in. Light. Soft.

Kissed his cheek.

“That’s all you getting tonight, smoke.”

And then you turned—heels clicking, dress swaying—walking right back into the club like you hadn’t just left the king of the damn city standing there with your number in his hand and a smirk blooming slow on his face.

He didn’t even chase you.

Just watched.

You woke up in your bed with one heel still on and glitter in your eyelashes.

Head pounding.

Mouth dry.

Phone buzzing.

“Ughhh…”

You rolled over and squinted at the screen.

Smoke (Mobile) 9:07 AM.

Hell no.

You tossed the phone face down and curled back under the blanket. Mind still foggy with club lights and too many tequila shots, feet sore from dancing in heels you should’ve thrown out two summers ago.

The night felt like a dream.

A blur.

Except him.

You remembered him crystal clear.

That voice. That smirk. That goddamn cheek kiss you gave him like some sweet lil’ Southern belle.

You groaned into your pillow.

Why did you do that?

Phone buzzed again.

Smoke (Mobile) 9:12 AM.

Back-to-back?

You side-eyed the screen, biting your lip.

And then—

Third call.

Smoke (Mobile) Incoming Call…

You stared.

Then finally hit ignore.

“Sir, it’s not even 10am,” you muttered, dragging yourself upright.

You made it to the kitchen, sipping orange juice straight from the bottle like a menace, still in last night’s dress with one strap slipping off your shoulder.

You rubbed your temples, then your phone dinged.

Unknown Address shared a location with you.

Your stomach flipped.

No name. No message.

Just a red pin hovering over your damn building.

You froze.

Then another message dropped.

“Come open the door”

No punctuation.

No emojis.

Just that.

Your eyes snapped to the door.

Was he joking?

You tiptoed over, heartbeat in your damn mouth. Peeked through the peephole.

And there he was.

Black hoodie. Hood up. Leaning against the wall like he owned the entire floor. One hand in his pocket. Other hand holding his phone. Head down.

Smoke at your damn front door like he’d lived there his whole life.

You didn’t even think.

Just unlocked it.

He looked up when it clicked open — and that slow, heavy gaze rolled over you like smoke under a door.

“Damn,” he muttered, eyes dipping down your body. “You always look like this in the morning?”

You pulled the door open wider and stepped aside, blinking up at him.

“How the hell you know where I stay?”

He stepped in without answering, brushing your shoulder — his presence thick — that quiet heat pouring off him again.

He looked around slow. Clocked your messy counter, the couch, the half-dead plant in the corner.

“You live alone?”

“Yes, sir,” you said, arms crossed. “You still ain’t answer—”

“I will get to that,” he said, low. “I asked a question.”

You stared at him, mouth open.

He just smirked.

“Relax,” he said. “Ain’t like I kicked the door in. You let me in.”

Damn.

You did let him in.

Something about the way he stood — tall, calm, like a storm in a hoodie — made your mouth dry.

You cleared your throat.

“I need a shower.”

“Go ahead,” he said, tossing himself onto your couch like it belonged to him. “I’ll be here.”

You blinked.

He pulled his hood down, leaned back, spread his legs — just making space. His gold chain caught the light. His eyes flicked to you.

“Go on, baby. I ain’t goin’ nowhere.”

You stood there like a deer in headlights, every nerve buzzing.

You turned and headed to the bathroom — lowkey speed-walking — and locked the door behind you.

Your back hit the wood. Chest rising and falling.

Why was this man in your house?

More importantly—

Why did it feel good?

You stripped, hot all over, and stepped into the shower.

Let the water run over you while your mind raced.

He was sitting on your couch.

Comfortable.

Knowing damn well you were naked in the next room.

And your heart was pounding like you liked it.

You stepped out, dripping, towel wrapped around you, and cracked the door open to peek.

He was still there. Phone in hand. One knee bouncing slow.

“You good?” he called out, not even turning around.

“Yeah…”

You closed the door fast and leaned against the sink.

He didn’t knock.

Didn’t ask to come in.

Just showed up.

Showed up and sat there like he belonged.

And maybe that was the scariest part.

Because some twisted, hungover, half-dressed part of you?

Kinda wanted him to.

Anyway —

You weren’t about to be that girl. Walking out in a towel like you ain’t have an ounce of sense. He was fine, yeah. Dangerous, yes. Built like everything you knew you should run from…

But still.

You had dignity.

Even if you did keep looking at yourself in the mirror—checking your face, adjusting your curls, heart thudding like you had something to prove.

You took your time. Went out the bathroom and into your bedroom.

Lotioned slow. Fresh pair of panties. Cotton shorts. Cropped tank top, soft and snug, your favorite one that always sat just right.

Simple. Cute. Still had a little “you can leave if you want, I ain’t pressed” to it.

Even though you were very much pressed.

You stared at the door for a second.

Took a breath.

Then turned the knob and stepped out.

The scent of your vanilla body cream followed you like a cloud as you moved through the hallway—each barefoot step slow, hesitant, but steady.

And there he was.

Smoke.

Exactly where you left him.

Leaning back into your couch like it was a throne. Legs spread. One arm tossed over the backrest. Phone gone now—he was looking at you.

Eyes dragging from your face, to your neck, to your waist, to your thighs.

Slow.

Like he was learning you.

“You clean?” he said, voice low, warm.

You nodded once.

“You still here?”

He smirked.

Didn’t move.

Didn’t blink.

“You mad about that?”

“I ain’t say that.”

He nodded, eyes never leaving yours.

“But you thought about it.”

You shrugged, stepping into the kitchen to pour a glass of water—partly to distract yourself, partly to avoid looking back at him.

He watched you move, the way your shorts hugged your curves, the way your fingers curled around the glass.

“You let all strangers up in your spot like this?”

“You a stranger?” you asked, turning to lean against the counter.

His lips curved.

“Not after last night.”

You swallowed and sipped slow, heart tight in your chest.

"I kissed your cheek — you're acting like we fucked."

He wasn’t loud.

He wasn’t boastful.

But something about the way he said it — like you were already his — made your skin hum.

“So,” you said, setting the glass down. “You just…decided to pull up? No warning?”

“You ain’t answer the phone,” he said simply. “You gave me your number, yeah? Thought that meant something.”

You squinted.

“So you tracked me down?”

“Didn’t have to,” he said. “You know how many people know you? Or watch you? You too pretty to be out here thinking nobody’s paying attention.”

That made your breath catch.

And he saw it.

He leaned forward a little, elbows on his knees, voice dropping deeper.

“Don’t matter how late you leave. Don’t matter what you post or what you don’t. Eyes on you. Always. I’m just the first one to say something about it.”

You didn’t know if you were flattered or terrified.

Maybe both.

But you crossed your arms, trying to act cool.

“You always this intense?”

“Only when I want something.”

That shut you up.

Because that gaze? That posture?

He didn’t look like he wanted your number anymore.

He wanted you.

And not in some quick, messy way.

No.

He wanted to pull you. Keep you. Figure out how your day started and ended. Learn what made you tick. Put his name in your phone and in your mouth, just to hear how it sounded.

He wanted to sit on your couch with his hood off and his legs wide and look at you like you were already home.

And it was scaring you.

Just a little.

“You hungry?” you asked finally, voice smaller than you meant.

He leaned back, eyes raking over you again.

“I’m good. Unless you cooking.”

“You ain’t getting all that today, sir,” you said, smiled a little. “I’m still hungover.”

“I could fix that.”

You gave him a look.

He just chuckled — low and short — like he already knew he’d wear you down eventually.

And maybe he was right.

Because when you sat down across from him, arms still crossed, biting the inside of your cheek —

You didn’t tell him to leave.

But the quiet stretched out thick between you.

Not awkward — but heavy. Heavy like smoke after a fire. The kind of silence that made your skin itch ‘cause you felt like you were supposed to be doing something, saying something — but he was doing just fine saying nothing.

His eyes moved slow when he looked at you.

Not greedy, but precise.

Like he was trying to clock your tells. Your tics. The way you blinked when you got nervous. The little tongue poke when you were being smart.

Made you wanna fidget.

But you didn’t.

You sat on that couch, one leg crossed over the other, arms still tucked under your chest like a shield, trying not to let your eyes drop to the gold chain hanging loose around his neck.

That chain was disrespectful.

“So what you do?” you asked finally. “For work. For money. Or is that a rude question?”

Smoke snorted low — amused.

“What I do,” he said, dragging the word out, “ain’t always something you ask in daylight. Especially not when you still smell like vanilla body oil and got your knees showin’.”

You rolled your eyes.

“Sir—”

“But since you asked,” he cut in, “I got a few things. People call. I handle it.”

“So vague.”

“You want details, or you want the truth?”

“Both.”

He smiled—slow, lazy, like it tasted good in his mouth.

“Truth is, I move weight. Truth is, I don’t clock in nowhere. Truth is…” He leaned forward, elbows on his knees again, head tilting just slightly. “I don’t let nobody tell me what to do. Been that way since I was fourteen.”

You blinked.

He didn’t sound like he was bragging. No hype, no theatrics. Just matter of fact. Like he knew what he was and wasn’t about to apologize for it.

“So you are perilous.”

“I’m useful.”

“That what they call it now?”

“Only when I’m being nice,” he said, eyes dipping low as he glanced over your body again, “which I usually ain’t.”

You felt your breath catch. Again.

God, this man was good.

“I feel like I should tell you I don’t get down with all that,” you said, voice light, deflecting. “I like peace. Quiet. I like my little paycheck and my little business and my little sanity.”

“And yet,” he said, “you still gave me your number.”

Damn.

He had you there.

You leaned back, lips pursed.

“You’re real sure of yourself.”

“Nah,” he said. “I’m just sure about you.”

You looked away.

Because what the hell do you say to that?

No man ever told you that before—not like that. Not like he meant it.

Not like he already decided that the two of you were something, and your mouth just hadn’t caught up yet.

“You ever get tired?” you asked. “Of acting like nothing scares you?”

“You ever get tired of pretending you don’t like when I act like that?”

You snorted, surprised.

“You good at reading people?”

“I’m good at reading you.”

That stopped you. Again.

You felt your arms uncross before you even realized you were doing it.

Like some part of you was already surrendering.

Your voice was softer when you said, “Why me?”

Smoke let that question sit.

Then —

“’Cause you smart. Real smart. But messy with it. Like you trying to keep it together and falling apart at the same time.”

You blinked.

Hard.

“And you pretty,” he added. “But you don’t lead with it. You act like it ain’t your weapon. That’s cute. Dangerous too.”

Your throat got tight.

“And I like the way you talk. Mouth slick. You got fight in you. But your eyes? They stay looking for something. You tired, but not done yet.”

His voice dropped.

“I like that.”

You weren’t sure what emotion was creeping up your chest, but it was hot. Heavy. A little scared, a little intrigued. A lot turned on.

You leaned your head back on the couch.

“You always do this?” you asked. “Pull girls in with that therapy voice and street prophet energy?”

“Nah,” he said. “You special. I don’t do repeat games.”

You swallowed again.

"Right, right..."

Felt your stomach knot.

“You staying long?” you asked.

“Long as you let me.”

You looked at him.

He was still sitting back like he owned the room. But now his hand was resting on his thigh, slow-tapping, like he was thinking about moving.

Like he wanted to.

“Don't you got a brother?” you asked randomly, needing to ground yourself.

He nodded.

“Twin.”

You tilted your head.

“Fraternal or Identical?”

“Identical.”

“So there's two of you running around town?”

Smoke smirked.

“Yeah. But he ain’t me.”

You smiled — real slow.

“Noted.”

He tilted his head.

“Why? You planning to test it?”

“I don’t repeat games either.”

That made him grin — wide this time.

“Told you,” he said. “You real slick. Keep playing like that and you gon’ have a hard time getting rid of me.”

“Who said I wanted to?”

You didn’t even mean to say that out loud.

But the way his eyes lit up? Whew.

“Aight then,” he said, voice silk. “Now we getting somewhere.”

You rolled your eyes, checking the time without meaning to.

He’d been on your couch longer than some of your exes lasted in your bed. Legs spread like he paid rent here. Voice low and lazy like he had nowhere else to be.

So you said it.

“You don’t got shit else to do today?”

Smoke turned to you with that half-smirk, half-squint thing he kept doing. Like every word out your mouth amused him more than the last.

“I mean, I’m flattered,” you added, kicking your bare heel against the floor. “But I know y’all street boys don’t just sit still like this. Ain’t you got corners to stand on or money to count or something?”

He snorted.

“You think that’s all I do?”

“Ain’t say that,” you shrugged. “But I know you didn’t wake up and decide to play house on my couch. I’m not that fine.”

“You are that fine,” he said easily. “I just got better taste than time.”

You rolled your eyes.

“Boy, whatever.”

But he didn’t respond.

His phone buzzed.

Once. Then again.

You clocked the quick glance he gave it. The screen lit up bright across his thigh. He tapped it, turned it face-down, didn’t move.

“What’s that?” you asked, leaning a little.

“Nothing.”

“Your girl?”

That made him grin. Head tipping back a little as he stared at the ceiling like he couldn’t believe you asked that.

“You think I’d sit this long in your house if I had somebody else blowing up my shit?”

“I don’t know. I’ve seen men do worse for less.”

“Ain’t my girl,” he said, straight-faced now. “If I had one, I’d have said it.”

You gave him a long look.

Didn’t say anything else.

But then the phone rang.

Loud. Sudden. The name flashed up — too quick for you to catch it — but his mood shifted the moment he saw it.

Just a flick of something. That calm-mask tightening.

“Yo,” he answered, standing up.

His tone dropped. Business.

He turned away, walked toward your door.

You stayed on the couch.

Didn’t ask.

You weren’t stupid. You didn’t need the details. Man like him? Phone call like that? It wasn’t brunch plans.

“Aight,” he said into the phone. “I’m on my way.”

He hung up.

Turned around.

And there it was — the shift back.

That calm he wore like armor.

You didn’t bother asking what it was. You already knew better.

Instead, you pulled your phone into your hand and scrolled. Just enough to let him know you weren’t pressed.

He watched you for a second. Then:

“Lemme get a kiss.”

You scoffed — head jerking up.

“You for real?”

“Deadass.”

“You wasn’t even here ten minutes and now you tryna act like this our place. Boy, please—”

“C’mon, baby,” he said, slow and syrupy. “You not gon’ do me like that.”

And the worst part?

You folded.

Not fast. Not right away.

But slow, like butter melting on hot bread.

You rolled your eyes — hard enough to give attitude — and stood.

“You so needy,” you muttered.

“You like that.”

You walked over.

He was already smirking.

And when you got close enough for him to reach — you knew.

You knew what he was gon’ do.

Still leaned in.

Still let him pull you in soft. One hand to your lower back, the other brushing your jaw.

His lips found yours like he’d kissed you before.

Like he’d been thinking about it since the second he saw you.

The kiss was slow — firm. Not sloppy, not rushed.

Just pressure. Warmth. Intention.

And right when you started to lean in deeper—

Boom.

Not one, but both his hands slid down to your ass.

Gripped.

Full palms, full squeeze.

You pulled back just enough to give him a look.

“Really?”

“You surprised?”

You tried to step back.

He didn’t let you.

Just stood there with that fucking smirk, hands still in place like they had a right to be there.

“You gon’ let go?”

“You gon’ ask me nice?”

“Smoke.”

“Aight, aight.” He finally eased up. “Go on then. I’ll call you.”

“Please don't.”

He leaned in one more time — kissed the corner of your mouth.

Then he was gone.

Door clicked shut behind him.

And your heart?

Still tapping a wild rhythm in your chest.

What the hell was that?

And why the hell did it feel like the beginning of something you wasn’t ready for?

[spideyjimin]

Break my heart | jjk (teaser)

—  pairing: fuckboy!jungkook x female reader 

—  genre: college au, roommates au, friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, kind of friends to enemies, and enemies to lovers, fluff, angst, and smut 

— rating: 18+ 

—  summary: jungkook, a mask, and a party. three things that made you weak enough to break all the rules of friendship. you did with him what you usually do with strangers… but he was never supposed to be a one-night stand. there’s too much history. too much comfort. and now, the aftermath of that wild and steamy night has made living with him unbearable, but also impossible to walk away. because you’re falling. fast. deep. and maybe deep enough to let each other break your own hearts.

—  words: 535 for the teaser

—  warnings: tension, flirting, strong language, and implied sex

—  author’s note: soooo i've already worked on this & i'm posting the little teaser to give you a little taste of what's coming 🫣 this is the college au i teased you about some time ago & i've been working on it for a little while, but i don't know when it's going to be released. this fics is inspired by many shows and movies i've watched lately (because i've done only that for the past 2 months 😫) i hope you'll enjoy it ❤️

— you can find another teaser here

— join the taglist ✨

“Will you be home at two?” you ask as he walks past you.  

“Why?” he says, opening the fridge and grabbing the milk like he couldn’t care less.

“Some guy is coming,” you answer, your eyes following his strong figure.

You watch his muscles flex as he reaches for a glass. It’s almost unfair how someone so infuriating can look that good. Buff. Strong. Dangerous in all the right ways. If he weren’t such an asshole, you might just let him ruin you again.

“Who?” he asks without looking at you.  

“Why do you want to know?” you counter, eyes glued on him.

He avoids your gaze, pouring the milk like the carton suddenly became fascinating.

“Because you’re the one talking about it,” he mumbles

A devious smirk grows on your face as you step closer—dangerously close now. He straightens up, facing you, eyes finally locking with yours.

“Are you looking for a guy?” you ask, cocking your head with a teasing grin.

“What?” his scowl is immediate, and you try as hard as possible to repress the smile growing on your face.  

You almost laugh at his expression. It’s ridiculous how easy it is to rile him up. But you hold it in. No cracks. Not yet. You're about to push him further. Annoying him is your new favorite pastime.

“I didn’t know you were gay,” you tease him.

Thank God he wasn’t drinking his milk. Otherwise, he would have choked. His brows draw together, clearly caught off guard.

“I’m not gay,” he says flatly, casually even, but his tone is clipped.

“Jungkook,” you shrug innocently. “You can be whoever you want. I support you, bestie.”

He rolls his eyes and drinks a sip of milk from the cup. Despite being annoyed, his heart skips a beat when you call him ‘bestie’. He hasn’t heard that nickname since that infamous night. You’ve called him jerk, asshole, idiot, stupid, fuckboy, dickhead, and many other things like that for the past three weeks.

“Why are you insisting?”

A little mustache of milk forms on his upper lip when he removes the cup. He looks absolutely adorable, like a little boy trapped in the body of a man who could destroy you with a single touch.

“Because I get it,” you smile. “I like men too.”

He wipes the milk mustache off with the back of his hand, but this time, the playful glint in his eyes disappears. He’s serious now.

“Stop it, yn,” his voice is sharp, like a warning. “You know I don’t like men.”

“Me?” you pretend to be innocent. “I don’t know anything. You’re very mysterious lately.”

Without a warning, he steps closer—your heart hammers in your chest with this sudden proximity. The air thickens between you, and you feel his hot and minty breath against your cheek. This reminds you of that wild night in the ballroom

“Yes, you do,” he whispers, voice dropping into something husky. His lips graze your ear. “And if you’ve forgotten, I can remind you.”

His fingers brush your cheek, sending shivers down your spine.

“I can make you moan my name again…” he pauses for a split second. “Or scream it, if you’d prefer.”

[flwrstqr]

❜ I WANNA BE YOURS ★ WHEN THEY GET CAUGHT STARING AT YOUR LIPS

𝗔𝗡𝗚𝗘𝗟𝗜𝗖 ᪲ 𝗆𝖺𝗒𝖻𝖾 𝗂 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗇𝖺 𝖻𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋𝗌, 𝗂 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗇𝖺 𝖻𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋𝗌

【 𝐀𝐌𝐎𝐔𝐑 】 '𝒏. ｡ enhypen ୨୧ f!r 8OO fluff reaction imagines established relationship ✶ petnames skinship ◜ᯅ◝ 𝑙’ click

note. the way i locked in for this fic .. i love you fleuries (> <) hope you guys enjoy this one ! muah :0

LEE HEESEUNG

you catch him staring before he even realizes he’s been caught—his eyes fixed on your lips, and the second your brows raise, he blinks once, slowly, then bites his bottom lip. “keep looking at me like that and i’m gonna kiss you,” he murmurs, voice low, teasing, eyes flickering back to your lips. his hand finds your waist. “what, baby?” he grins, leaning closer, noses almost brushing. “you’re not gonna stop me?” “that’s what i thought,” he hums, and it takes every ounce of self-control for you not to kiss him first. heeseung just smirks, like he already knows he’s got you.

PARK JAY

you tilt your head, catching the way jay’s eyes linger a little too long on your lips, and when you call him out with a quiet, “really?” he doesn’t even flinch—just smirks, completely unbothered, like he’s proud of it. “can you blame me?” he says, hand finding yours to lace your fingers together. “look at you, baby. how am i supposed to focus when you’re this pretty?” his thumb brushes soft circles on the back of your hand, and his other gently tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. “my princess,” he adds, more to himself than to you. “you make it hard not to stare.” it’s not just the way he looks at you—it’s how he holds you like he means it, like he’ll never let you forget how loved you are.

SIM JAKE

you notice his gaze dropping for the third time in a minute, eyes flicking down to your lips and staying there like they’re magnetic. “jake,” you murmur, “you’re staring.” he doesn’t say a word—just smiles, before leaning in and pressing his lips to yours without hesitation like he’s been waiting all day for an excuse. his hand slides to the back of your neck, thumb brushing your jaw as he deepens the kiss just a little. when he finally pulls back, he’s grinning like he got away with something. “what?” he says. “you were talking too much and i had to shut you up, baby.” you swat at his chest, but he’s already tugging you closer again, lips ghosting over yours. “can’t help it when you look that kissable.” yeah, jake’s never been good at playing subtle.

PARK SUNGHOON

you raise an eyebrow when you catch sunghoon staring—blatantly, like he’s not even trying to hide it—and he doesn’t flinch. instead, he leans back against the couch, arm draped behind you, lips quirking into that annoyingly smug grin. “caught me. what now, huh?” he says like he’s daring you to do something about it. you gonna yell at me, princess? or…” he trails off, gaze flicking to your mouth again, “you gonna let me kiss you?” the confidence in his tone makes your heart stutter, and he knows it—he’s watching you like he already won. “c’mon,” he murmurs, “i know you want to.” you hate how right he is, and he loves how flustered you get trying not to give in.

KIM SUNOO

you catch him mid-stare, eyes glassy and dazed like he’s been daydreaming for the past ten minutes, and when your gaze narrows, sunoo blinks at you all wide-eyed. “what?” he says as if he didn’t just spend the last 10 minutes just staring at your lips. “what’s kissing?” he adds, tilting his head with the most fake-confused expression you’ve ever seen. you scoff, but he’s already scooting closer, his fingers lightly wrapping around your wrist. “i think maybe you’ll have to show me, baby,” he whispers, and the corners of his mouth curl into a smug little smile. “for educational purposes.” you roll your eyes, but your cheeks are burning and he knows it—his thumb brushing against the back of your hand.

YANG JUNGWON

you’re mid-sentence when you notice him zoning out, eyes soft and focused a little too long on your lips. “jungwon,” you say, trying not to smile, and he blinks—once, twice—like snapping out of a trance. “wait… what were you saying?” he asks, voice a little sheepish, cheeks tinting pink as his fingers find yours and play with them absentmindedly. he’s still leaning in though, completely tuned into you now, like he genuinely wants to hear every word you say even if he got distracted. “sorry, baby, you just… you’re really pretty,” he mumbles, brushing his thumb against the back of your hand, still looking at you. “but i’m listening now, i promise.” and you believe him—because jungwon’s the kind of boyfriend who’d memorize every word just to make you feel heard.

NISHIMURA RIKI

riki’s eyes flick down to your lips for just a second too long, and you catch it—smirking as you tilt your head. “were you staring at my lips?” you ask, already knowing the answer, but he only scoffs, grinning. “why? you want me to kiss you or something?” he drawls. your face heats up immediately and he knows, because he laughs. “cute,” he murmurs, “didn’t know you were that desperate, baby.” you shove at his chest, but he just traps your hand there, fingers interlacing lazily with yours. “you’re so easy to fluster,” he adds with a wink, brushing his nose against yours before pulling back like he didn’t just almost kiss you. “next time, just ask nicely.” asshole. your asshole.

[somanyideassolittletime]

To be loved is to be changed.

Pairings: Jack Abbot x Fem!Reader

Summary : 3 ways you changed Jack, and one time Jack changed you.

Warnings: fluff, Jack is in love with his wife, language, grammar inaccuracies (maybe? idk), so much fluff I felt giddy writing this.

Author's note: I love Jack so much, enjoy!

| one

Jack, albeit all of his typical stereotypes people use to box him into, is secretly tech-savvy. It comes with the job, he supposed. Working in a field where technology is always evolving, he learnt to adapt, and he learnt to love it. It started with geeking out when the newest, most updated machine was delivered to the hospital, up to buying himself handheld medical pieces of equipment delivered to your door – he would wait for you at home before unboxing the most recent ‘toys’ he ordered, and he would talk your ears off about how cool and innovative it is. 

You loved it, you loved hearing him talk passionately, you love that even after all this time working in his job, he still finds wonders in it (it doesn’t help that he looked so hot with his forearms flexed, knife in hand, while opening the package).

He understands technology, he does. But he doesn’t get the idea of FaceTime. He wasn’t a big texter himself; nothing beats the good old phone calls, where you can get your point across without fear of miscommunication on both sides. Even when you dated, you never went as far as FaceTime; it was always a phone call with a promise of meeting each other, and now that you are married, sharing his home, he still doesn’t get it.

“Why do you even need to look at their faces when you call? What matters is what you say, y’know, besides, it’s awkward to call someone with your phone far away from your ears,” He once said while holding you tightly in his side, cuddling in his far too comfy leather couch. Both of you watching a movie, where the scene of people facetiming each other just finished. You laughed at him back then, nudging his sides, “Eh, don’t knock it till you try it, hon.” 

What a turn of events now for him, as you were called away across the country for a few guest lectures and seminars for two weeks. Away from Pittsburgh, away from him – that he finds himself thankful for whoever invented the damned thing. He’s sitting on his bed, currently deprived of your presence beside him, when he decides to try out FaceTime. 

 “Hi, handsome,” you pick up on the first ring, he’s greeted with the face he’s been missing for the past few days, smiling at him. He sighs in contentment, he finally gets to see your face. “Hi, sweetheart.” 

He can hear you rustling around, looking for something to prop up your phone before you settle on your water bottle. Your screen is now steady. You grin at him, “Finally getting the whole FaceTime thing now, huh?” 

He huffs, “Don’t wanna get used to it, i’d rather have you here.” he starts, “But yeah, thank god shit’s exist. Been so long since I've seen that face.” 

“I’ve been here four days and you turned grumpy, huh?” You tell him, referring to the text Dana sent you earlier, “Your husband is Mr. Grumpy. Med students scared to approach him all day” 

“What do you mean?” You’re still grinning at him, you’re afraid your cheeks might be too sore to talk to the faculty tomorrow. “Dana texted me, said you were being bad teacher.” 

He groaned, “I’m annoyed at everything, it seems.” he mumbles just loud enough for you to hear him on the other end. He’s holding the phone a little too close to his eyes, he squints to look at you. You noticed it, “Wear your glasses, hon.” He hates wearing his glasses, which you know, but he’s squinting so hard you’re afraid he’s gonna get a headache later on. He’s contemplating debating you, but he knows that you’re right; he’s getting too old to see something so close to his eyes now. 

“Ugh, fine. Wait,” he puts his phone in the bed, now his screen is showing the ceiling of the bedroom you share back home. A few rustling and groans later, you find yourself looking at Jack wearing his glasses. Your breath hitched. The sight of him in his glasses always gets to you, even after all this time. “Looking good, Dr. Abbot,” you joke. He smiles, “You’re Dr. Abbot yourself.” You frowned mockingly. “I was looking at my reflection, y’know.” 

He laughs, and your heart aches to be with him. You missed him as bad as he missed you, it seems. You lift your phone, standing up now, he’s curious, “What are you doing?” You reverse the camera now, showing your room. “I’m doing a room tour. Now shut up and listen to me yap.” 

He gladly obeys, he loves listening to your voice, he watches as you explain everything in your room, from the bathroom, the wardrobe, the bed, all the way to the balcony. His eyes caught something when your camera points at your desk, a familiar bottle of cologne – one he’s been wearing for ten years – so he decides to jab at you. “Is that why I can’t find my cologne in my bag?” You turn the camera facing you, and he’s glad now that he can see your face again. “I miss you. Sue me.” You stick your tongue out at him. How he wishes to wipe that shit eating grin from your face. 

“I’m suing you for that with a lifetime with me,” he says earnestly. You look at him fondly, “Jack Abbot, I didn’t know you get sappier the further we departed.” He puts his phone on the nightstand, angled so that you can still see his face, pulling the comforter up to his chin. 

“I miss you so much, baby,” you blegh at the nickname, phone now back at your desk, “You sounded like a teenager,” he chuckles, he looks at you putting on your glasses, the light from the laptop reflecting in your eyes. “Talk to me,” you say.

So he did, he tells you about the shift he’s had today while you’re typing away at your laptop, looking at him every once in a while. He tells you about the boy who went berserk, hands flailing around, making Langdon drop the scalpel in his hand, dropping it to his prosthetic feet, panicking the entire trauma room, only for him to be unfazed. You laugh fondly at him, eyes twinkling with the same mesmerization you only hold for him (and for a crazy innovation that you find interesting). 

He’s holding his yawn, but you know better. His eyes are glassy now. “Go to sleep. It’s late,” you say, he obeys you, taking off his glasses, relaxing into his pillow. “Don’t turn it off,” he says softly, eyes fluttering. You shake your head, “I’ll turn it off when you snore,” he huffs, “what? You snore.” you start, “But I need to hear you snore to sleep nowadays.” you explain. 

His eyes are half-closed now, and he finds himself relaxed, hearing your breaths on the other side, keys clacking softly. “I love you,” he whispers to you. You stopped your typing, now looking at his eyes fully closed, “I love you too, goodnight, hon.” 

For the next 7 days, he finds himself loving FaceTime, finds himself looking forward to FaceTime with you every night before he sleeps, and like other technology he once frowned at, he finally gets it. 

| two

Jack is not a man of pop culture, he never understands the appeal of it. He rarely watches movies by himself, let alone pop culture movies or series. But you loved it to no end, you often ask him to watch those movies with you, ranging from sci-fi, fantasy, to superhero movies, whatever you want to watch, he’ll gladly oblige. He’ll pretend to be uninterested in your series whenever you watch it alone with him moving around the house. But you always find him standing behind the couch, watching the show intently, before finding him beside you, starting to give commentary on what's happening on the screen. And slowly, he finds himself enjoying watching those movies and series with you. 

He loves watching you explain to him about the complexity of a character you like, loves hearing you badmouth a character you hate, and when you both find yourself watching sci-fi movies with futuristic technologies, he finds himself falling a little harder, hearing you explain to him the concept of the technology in said movies. “I don’t understand a single word you just said. Is this what you feel when I explain procedures to you?” he once asked you. You nodded, “Yeah, pretty much, but you’re hot when you’re explaining it. So I love it,” you said to him. And he agreed with you on that one. 

Jack was covering the night shift tonight, it’s Halloween night, so he’ll find himself drowning in patients in costumes, no doubt. You had dropped him off earlier with a kiss on his cheek and a promise to pick him up later in the morning.  

He’s talking to a ten-year-old kid in a yellow uniform, one he recognized as a Star Trek uniform when Ellis enters the room, “I got this, Abbot. You go ahead,” she says to Jack. Jack nods at her before saying, “You’re in good hands, kiddo.” Ellis looks at the boy in the bed, saying, “Well, what do we got here, Mr.Spock?” The kid was about to protest when Jack reactively says, “He’s Captain Kirk,” Earning a look from Ellis. He fistbumps the kid and leaves the room, fully trusting Ellis. 

The rest of the shift is pretty slow, filled with kids getting food poisoning from the candy being given away, typical drunks, and some OD patients from parties. It was now one hour left in the shift, everyone was either hanging by the hub or just doing a frequent check for their patients. He was charting when Shen and Ellis approached him.

“Hey, Abbot. How’s the stormtrooper guy?” Shen asks him. He’s currently scanning through his memory, not finding a single stormtrooper costume in his recollection of the night. “We haven’t got a stormtrooper,” He frowns at Shen. Shen points his fingers over Jack’s shoulder, he turns his head – now looking at a man in a Mandalorian get-up, his helmet on the chair beside the bed – he turns back to Shen, “That’s a fucking Mandalorian, good to go in a few hour, ” Shen doesn’t say anything, opting to look at Ellis beside him. Who, for the second time that night, gave him a weird look. He’s been doing medical procedures that might be crazy ballsy for some, but never once he received that look from either Ellis or Shen until tonight. 

“Okay, you know what, what the hell?” Ellis starts, “You corrected me earlier cause of a fuckin costume, and now, what the hell, man?” Jack shrugs, “What?” Shen points his finger at Jack, his voice accusatory, “Dude, you only ever turn your TV on for penguins games, now you tellin me you know fuckin sci-fi shit, now.?” Jack looks at him, “Wrong, I turn on my TV for the Steelers and Pirates too,” he says casually. 

“Ugh, you know what we meant. Since when do you even watch that stuff?” Ellis says exasperatedly. Jack crossed his arms, shrugging, “My wife likes that stuff.” He says that so casually that Shen and Ellis might combust at his tone. 

Shen laughs at him, “Holy shit, you’re whipped.” Jack smirks, “Yeah, I wouldn’t get married if I weren’t.” his hands find the ring in his necklace now. Fully smiling at Shen and Ellis, both of whom groan at him. “Ughhh, please be a simp somewhere else, not here.” Shen rolls his eyes. 

Shen and Ellis walked away from him before he muttered, “God forbid a man is in love,” smiling to himself with the thought of you in his mind. 

So slowly but surely, he understands the appeal now that he can see how your eyes lit up every time he referenced something. And like any other form of entertainment, he once cringed at, he finds himself enjoying and looking forward to the next time he has you curled up beside him, whispering theories he doesn’t get. Anything that makes you happy, it seems, makes him happy. 

| three

Jack is a man of many talents, but not of many coffee orders. He takes his coffee as plain as possible. Black, no sugar. He never ordered his coffee sweet, not before he met you at least. For him, coffee should be something simple, he doesn’t need extra flavor in his coffee, he just needs it to fuel him through the day. 

But you? You take your coffee as abstractly as possible. Though you do enjoy a plain black coffee once in a while, once the occasion calls for it, you actually prefer some flavor and sweetness in your coffee. 

“black , no sugar, please. What about you hon,” he asked you, ordering for himself to barista; he never ordered for you since he knew he would botch the task. “Uh, let me think. I ordered the almond latte yesterday. I think I’ll go with hazelnut today, please. Thank you,” you answered to the barista, who punched in some buttons. Jack tapped his card to pay before moving over to wait for your order. 

“Here, try this. You’ll like it.” you said to him. He shakes his head, refusing to take a sip. “Just try it, I swear” he takes the coffee in his hand, sipping on it. Fuck. that’s good. He thought. He bites the inside of his cheek to hold back a smile, not wanting to give you the victory. You pointed at him victoriously, “aha! You like it don’t you.” he shrugged, giving you back your coffee. “Eh, black’s still better.” though you know that he actually enjoys it. 

But now that it’s been a while since the two of you went on cafe dates, he finds himself missing your random coffee order. So when the opportunity comes for him to drink your coffee order, he’ll take it. 

“Hey, I’m ordering coffee, your usual?” Robby asks him, typing in his notes app to list everyone’s coffee order. Jack thinks for a second before answering him, “I’ll have a vanilla latte,” earning a raised eyebrow from Robby, who types it down without question before moving over to the others. Making a mental note to ask him later on. 

It was a while later when the order came in, and everyone stopped by the break room to take their coffee. Jack is greeted by Langdon and Robby inside, both holding their coffee. Langdon doesn’t even think before handing him a black coffee, one that Jack doesn’t take. “It’s not mine,” he says, walking over to the table, reading the labels in each cup before settling on his order. 

He holds it in a way that the label is visible to Langdon, who looks at him weirdly, “a Latte? Really? Vanilla latte?” Langdon asks him. Jack sips on his coffee before entertaining Langdon, “What? It’s good,” he answers. Langdon, who looks at Robby as if saying, dude, you seeing what I’m seeing???. Robby teases him, “Yeah, I don’t think that cuts it, brother.” 

Jack huffs, sipping some more, “Fine. My wife takes her coffee like this.” he wants to look annoyed, but he can’t bear himself to do it; not when he just drank your coffee order, being reminded of you seems to have that effect on him. 

“I’m a married man myself, but I never even order my coffee her way, man.” Langdon laughs at him. Robby smiles at him, putting his hand on Langdon’s shoulder, slightly leaning toward him. “I believe we are seeing Jack in love. What is it? To be loved is to be changed?” says Robby to Langdon’s who laughed at Jack. 

Jack wants to retort something smart as usual, but somehow, he doesn’t want to. So he opted to just smile at both of them before taking his coffee outside the break room. 

Because yeah, he might realize himself that his preference is changing, but what Robby said earlier was right, that he’s in love and that he’s loved – and he wouldn’t change that for the world. 

But the next time the two of you went on your cafe dates, he would still order his usual, not because he wanted it, he ordered it because for him, nothing beats the mischievous smile you gave him after asking him to try your coffee. (and it doesn’t help that he liked seeing your lip product mark on his cup after you drink his coffee, and that both of you just did an indirect kiss) Though that was a thought he’ll keep to himself forever. 

+1

“How do I look?” you walk into the living room, twirling your body to Jack, who is sitting on the leather couch, now looking at you. You were sporting a Penguins jersey with a big 87 on the back, CROSBY above it. You were offered a sideline ticket to the Penguins game by your friend, which you excitedly accepted. So here you are, getting ready for the game with the Penguins heartbreaker’s Jersey on you. 

Jack smiles at you. “Well, you look like you’re drowning in it, Mrs. Crosby,” he says coyly. You frown at him, walking over to him, “Jack, as much as I love Sid, I actually prefer being Mrs. Abbot,” you say to him, leaning down to give his lips a peck.

Jack puts his hand on your waist, capturing your lips on his. Pulling back, Jack let out a breathy chuckle, “Yeah? Say that after you see him, hon. You know I’m straight, but he’s hot as hell,” he jested. You laugh at his confession, about to say something when you hear a honk in the driveway. Jack walks you over to the door, opening it for you.

Jack pecks your lips once again before saying, “Stay safe, okay? I love you.” You smile, kissing his cheek, “I will. Love you too.”

It’s almost midnight when you come home, and the Penguins won, so it was a victorious night out in your books. You open the door slowly, not wanting to disturb Jack, who should be sleeping by now. You can hear the TV still turned on in the living room, so you decide to check it out.  

Jack was sprawled over the couch, the light from the TV illuminating his figure, his prosthetic placed by the table, as much as you want to move him to the bed because you know that his back would scream at him tomorrow if he spends as much as an extra hour on the couch, he looked so cozy you can’t help yourself, so you lay down on the couch, joining him. 

Your movement startles him at first, but upon seeing that it’s you, he relaxes, “Hey,” he whispers into your ear. “It was fun, wished it was with you though,” you confess to him. His arms now caging you, drawing soft circles on your back. It was quiet before you started.

“Jack,” you whisper softly, he hums, acknowledging you. You continue, “I think you broke me.” Jack stops his hand, pulling his head just enough to look you in the eyes. “What do you mean?” you snuggle further into his chest before saying, “I don’t find Sid attractive anymore.” 

“Huh?” Jack asks, You sit up, placing your hand on his stomach. “Imagine, I was that close with him, I could practically see his pores, Jack.-” You put your hand in front of you, in an attempt to emphasize just how close you are to The Sidney Crosby earlier. “But all I can think about is eh, he’s okay. Jack’s way more attractive.” Jack’s entire body warms at hearing your confession. 

He’s about to comment before you put your hand that was previously on his stomach to his mouth, not allowing him to speak, “No, you don’t get it. It's THE SIDNEY CROSBY, Jack. You know how much I love him, right?” he nods against your hand, now smiling as wide as ever. You lift your hand from his mouth, continuing your explanation. “I was supposed to be entranced by him, Jack. But I kept on thinking that he had nothing against you.” 

“You’re putting me on a damn high pedestal now, hon,” he says jokingly, though his eyes shows nothing but adoration looking at you. 

You lie back on the couch again, cuddling him. “Nah. I think I just love you too much that I find any other guy to just be….mid.” 

He chuckles, resuming his hand motion on your back. “I love you too, so much.” You don’t say anything after that, you're both snuggling, the TV playing softly as background noise – the intimacy of this moment has nothing against anything else. 

You both stayed that way for a while until you mentioned to him that you needed to move before you both fell asleep on the couch, so you walked over to the bedroom, Jack behind you, searching for the remote to turn it off, seeing the highlight of the day on the screen, with crosby’s goal earlier. He smirks proudly at the TV, remembering your earlier admission. 

Sid 0 - 1 Jack. 

[leriexoxo]

Angry Boys - Chan

Now Be A Good Girl

Tags: dom chan, angst, blow job deepthroat, bondage, unprotected sex, edging, oral sex, slight degradation, smut 18+

Word count: 4k

This work contains mature themes, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!

ANGRY BOYS MASTERLIST

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

You weren’t supposed to go out.

That was the only rule he gave you tonight.

He was busy working late in the studio, and when you texted “I’m bored,” he replied fast and sharp:

“Stay home. Don’t make me come get you.”

But you didn’t listen.

You got dressed.

Put on that little top he hates—tight, black, cropped way too high.

And you left.

⸻

You knew you fucked up the second the door closed.

Not slammed. Not banged.

Just… clicked shut.

It was quiet. You didn’t even turn around—you didn’t have to. You could feel him behind you. The weight of his presence. The fury he wore like a second skin.

The same fury he never said out loud.

That was the worst thing about Bang Chan.

He didn’t yell. Didn’t threaten. Didn’t explode.

He watched and he waited.

And when he was mad? Really, truly pissed?

He got quiet, scarily quiet.

Like right now.

You stood in the middle of the kitchen, fingers still wrapped around a glass of water you suddenly didn’t need anymore.

Your voice cracked first.

“Chan, I—”

“Where were you?”

Three words. Low. Measured. Like a warning wrapped in silk.

You swallowed hard, staring down at the countertop. “Out.”

“Not what I asked.”

You flinched.

He hadn’t even moved, and still, your entire body tensed like prey sensing a predator.

“I was with friends,” you said, softer now.

“Whose?”

You hesitated and he stepped forward.

Your breath caught.

“I told you not to go,” he murmured. “Didn’t I?”

You nodded.

“And you went anyway.”

You nodded again.

“Did you think I wouldn’t find out?”

You turned then, slowly, unsure why your legs were shaking. “I didn’t— I wasn’t trying to—”

“To what?” His head tilted. “Piss me off? Test me? Show me how little you think of my rules?”

Your mouth opened. No sound came out.

That’s when he smiled.

Not the sweet, boyish smile you were used to.

No. This one was sharp. Slow. Dangerous.

The kind of smile you’d never seen on him before.

It made your stomach drop.

“I see,” he said softly, dragging the words out like honey.

He stepped forward again. One step. Then another.

You backed into the counter.

He didn’t stop.

“I give you rules,” he continued, “because I know how this works. I know how you work. I know what happens when you get bored.”

“Chan…”

“And what do you do?” He was close now. Too close. “You run off to some guy’s house. Let him touch what isn’t his.”

“I didn’t— No one touched me—”

Chan’s eyes darkened.

“And I’m supposed to believe that?”

You stared at him, chest rising and falling too fast. You didn’t understand why your thighs were clenching together. Why your pulse was racing in fear—or was it something else entirely?

Then his voice dropped to a whisper.

“Take your clothes off.”

Your lips parted. “What?”

He leaned in. His breath hit your cheek. “Now.”

You didn’t move.

He exhaled a humorless laugh.

“Still so stubborn.”

Then, without another word, he turned around and walked away.

You blinked.

Where was he going?

But he didn’t leave. He went to the living room. Sat down in the middle of the couch. Then spoke loud enough for you to hear:

“You’ve got ten seconds to come kneel. If I get to ten, you won’t be able to walk tomorrow.”

Your entire body pulsed.

That was the moment you realized…

This wasn’t casual anymore.

This wasn’t the friends-with-benefits arrangement you thought you had control over.

This was Chan, taking the reins you dropped the second you disobeyed him.

And he wasn’t going to give them back.

You didn’t even remember moving. One second you were frozen in the kitchen, heart punching your ribs. The next, you were walking—no, drifting—toward him like your body knew what to do even if your mind didn’t.

Ten seconds had passed. Probably more. He hadn’t called out again. He didn’t need to.

You found him on the couch, legs spread wide, head tilted back, one arm draped along the backrest like a king on a throne.

Your place was already waiting for you.

On the floor. Between his knees.

You stopped in front of him, fists clenched at your sides, your pride flaring up in one last flicker.

He looked at you then.

Not your face. Not your eyes.

He looked down.

“You’re not kneeling.”

“I’m not a dog.”

“Then don’t act like one.”

That landed like a slap. Your breath caught. He didn’t take it back.

The silence that followed stretched razor-thin.

And then, slowly, like the smallest white flag—

You sank.

First to your knees. Then to your heels. Hands in your lap. Eyes cast low.

There was a sharp inhale. His.

A beat. Maybe two.

Then he leaned forward.

“You disobeyed me,” he said quietly. “And then you lied to me. And now you’re on your knees.”

You nodded once. Shame bloomed low in your stomach—but it curled up with heat too.

He reached out and tilted your chin up.

His gaze was fire and ice.

“Do you think I like punishing you?”

“I…” You swallowed. “I don’t know.”

“I don’t.”

His thumb brushed your bottom lip.

“But I will.”

You almost whimpered.

He stood up, moving around you like a wolf circling its prey. The air behind you shifted as he knelt, leaned in, whispered at your ear.

“I want you to sit with it,” he murmured. “The guilt. The tension. The ache.”

Goosebumps swept your skin.

“I want you to feel how different everything is now. This isn’t just casual anymore, is it?”

You shook your head, lips trembling.

“Say it.”

“It’s not casual anymore.”

“Why?”

You blinked, breath stuttering. “Because I broke the rules.”

His hand slid down your arm, slow and deliberate.

“Because you’re mine,” he said. “And you’re going to learn exactly what that means.”

“I’m sorry”

“You want to play games?” His voice was low—barely above a growl. “Then open that bratty mouth and show me how sorry you are.”

He didn’t wait for you to obey.

Chan stood up, pulled his cock free, and slapped it across your face with a sharp smack that made your cheek sting. You flinched, but he grabbed a fistful of your hair and forced you to look up at him.

“That’s right,” he sneered. “Eyes on me while I fuck that pretty little throat raw.”

You barely got your mouth open before he shoved his cock in, thick and heavy, filling your tongue and pushing deep without hesitation. You gagged around him instantly, but he didn’t ease up—not even a little.

“You thought you could act like a fucking brat and not pay for it?”

He shoved deeper.

“Now look at you. Exactly where you belong.”

You choked, drool already spilling down your chin as his hips snapped forward again—rough, punishing thrusts that didn’t give you space to breathe. His grip in your hair was brutal, controlling every movement of your head, using you like you were nothing but a hole to fuck the rage out of.

“Cry for me,” he bit out. “I want to see tears. I want you wrecked.”

And you were—mascara running, jaw aching, throat tight around his cock as he kept pushing deeper, harder. He slapped the base of his cock against your lips again just to watch you flinch and moan, then shoved it back down your throat until your eyes rolled.

“You hear that?” he grunted, voice ragged with control. “That sloppy little gag? That’s the sound of you being put in your fucking place.”

You gasped when he pulled out suddenly, your body sagging with the rush of air.

But it didn’t last.

He slapped his cock across your tear-streaked face again, then shoved it back into your mouth—deeper this time, holding your head still as he forced you to take every inch.

“Fucking useless unless you’ve got my dick in your throat, huh?”

You moaned around him. Shameful. Desperate.

“You better cum from this,” he growled. “You better be soaking the floor while I fuck your face or I swear—”

He cut himself off with a curse, thrusting once, twice—then groaning as his cock twitched deep in your throat. Your eyes watered harder, lungs burning as you swallowed around him like you were made for it.

And even as you choked, you reached between your legs, rubbing yourself frantically—because fuck, this was what you needed.

He yanked you off him with a wet pop, spit and cum dripping from your lips as he stared down at your wrecked face.

“You’re not done,” he hissed. “Get on the couch. Now.”

⸻

You were already begging and he hadn’t even touched you properly.

The sharp look in Chan’s eyes was enough to undo every ounce of bravado you had left. You backed up a step—then another—bare feet scuffing against the floor as you tried to put space between the two of you.

“Don’t,” you whispered, voice shaky.

His stare dropped to your trembling legs, then dragged up your body with slow, dangerous precision. His jaw flexed once—tight, controlled—before he moved.

You turned to run. It was pure instinct.

But you didn’t get far.

In seconds he was behind you, one strong arm hooking around your waist as he dragged you back against his chest. His other hand clamped down over your mouth as you let out a gasp, muffled and desperate.

“I warned you,” he breathed against your ear. “Didn’t I?”

You shook your head frantically, but he ignored it.

He lifted you—just picked you up like you weighed nothing—and tossed you onto the bed. Your breath caught, wrists scrambling to push up, but Chan was already crawling over you, his thighs caging yours in, his hand pressing between your shoulder blades to keep you down.

“Stay,” he said, low and clipped.

Your heart was pounding.

You heard him shift behind you, the sound of fabric rustling—and when you turned your head to look, he was already looping a long strip of black cloth between his fingers.

“No—wait, I—”

He grabbed your wrists and pinned them above your head, using the cloth to bind them together. His knot was tight and fast, practiced.

“Too late for begging now,” he said. “You wanted to act like a brat?”

You whimpered.

“Then I’ll treat you like one.”

Chan sat back on his heels behind you, dragging your hips up into the air with a single, rough tug. Your chest stayed flush against the mattress, arms stretched out above your head, wrists locked tight in the soft fabric. You could barely move.

“Look at you,” he muttered, staring down at your soaked thighs. “Soaked, and I haven’t even touched you.”

He palmed your ass, spreading you open, watching the way you clenched. You whined, trying to push your face into the sheets.

He landed a hard slap across your skin.

You gasped, body jerking.

“That’s not where your attention belongs.”

He spanked you again—harder—and then again, until you were crying out with every strike, breathless and squirming.

“You backtalked,” he growled. Smack. “You disobeyed.” Smack. “And now you’re gonna take every second of this.”

He leaned down, his chest warm against your spine.

“You’re gonna thank me for it too.”

You swallowed hard, barely able to think through the sting and heat of his hands. “Th-Thank you,” you whispered.

He chuckled—cold, low.

“Not yet.”

And then you felt it—his fingers, slipping between your legs, stroking through your slick folds, teasing you with slow, cruel pressure that didn’t give you what you needed. You cried out, frustrated, your wrists straining against the binds.

But Chan was patient. So fucking patient.

“You don’t get my cock,” he murmured, “until you’ve earned it.”

Your wrists ached in the best way—tied tight, stretched out, your whole body bent into a position you couldn’t fight even if you tried. Not that you would.

Not when you felt Chan kneel behind you again, his rough hands trailing up your thighs like he was deciding what to devour first.

“You’ve made a mess of yourself,” he muttered, running his thumb through your soaked folds.

You whimpered at the contact, body twitching.

“Didn’t even get fucked, and you’re already dripping down your legs.” His voice was low, dangerous. “What kind of girl are you, hmm?”

You didn’t answer.

You couldn’t.

He grabbed a fistful of your hair and yanked your head back just enough to speak into your ear.

“Answer me.”

Your voice was broken, breathless. “Y-Yours—”

He shoved your face back into the mattress with a grunt. “That’s right.”

Then he dropped lower behind you, spreading you open like it was nothing—hands firm on your ass, forcing you wide, fully exposed.

You gasped when you felt his mouth.

His tongue licked a slow stripe from your clit to your entrance, teasing, almost gentle—but the grip on your hips said otherwise. Said you weren’t going anywhere.

And then he groaned.

The sound vibrated through your core, deep and feral.

“Fuck,” he muttered. “You taste unreal.”

And then he dug in.

His mouth was ruthless, tongue working in steady, unrelenting circles over your clit while his hands held you down. Your knees trembled under the force of it. You tried to rock your hips, to chase that pressure—but he just tightened his grip until you couldn’t move an inch.

He flicked his tongue faster, then slower, dragging your orgasm right to the edge before pulling back, lips slick with you.

You whined—high and needy.

“Thought you were bratty,” he said. “Didn’t realize you were this easy.”

He lowered again, this time sucking hard on your clit, letting his nose bump against your skin as he groaned into your cunt. Your moans were broken, loud, shaking into the mattress.

And when he slipped his tongue into you, thick and slow, you screamed.

Your thighs shook, the knot in your stomach pulling tighter and tighter until—

“Don’t you dare,” he growled, pulling back just enough to speak. “Don’t you fucking come.”

You sobbed into the sheets, shaking from the denial. “C-Chan—please—”

But he dove back in, tongue moving faster, lips pulling you apart until your vision went white and your body betrayed you—

You came. Hard.

He felt it instantly—your muscles clenching around nothing, the sob that left your throat, the taste of you spilling over his tongue.

And then he froze.

He pulled back slowly, breathing hard, his mouth wet with your release.

You barely had time to gasp before he was speaking again—calm, dangerous.

“You didn’t just do that.”

Silence.

“You really came without permission.”

Your breath hitched.

“Alright,” he said, voice low and final. “You want to act like that? Fine.”

And before you could blink— He was grabbing your hips, lining himself up, and thrusting in.

The sound he made when he sank into you was feral—a low, guttural growl that vibrated through your bones. He bottomed out in one brutal thrust, hips flush to your ass, so deep you could feel him in your stomach.

“Fuck,” he muttered, voice gravel. “You really came without my permission?”

You tried to speak—but all that came out was a wrecked little sob. He grabbed your bound wrists, yanked your arms back, and used them as leverage to pull you onto his cock again. Harder.

“Answer me.”

“I—I’m sorry—!”

“That’s not an answer.”

“I—I couldn’t help it—!”

He laughed—cold, dangerous. “Then let me help you.”

He dragged almost all the way out before slamming back in, again and again, every thrust deeper than the last, until your breath stuttered and your thighs shook. You were already so sensitive, so overstimulated from the orgasm he explicitly told you not to have, and he was nowhere near done.

One hand released your arms only to close around your throat, pulling you up until your back was pressed to his chest, your knees barely stable under the weight of his body.

“You like being used?” he whispered into your ear. “Being just a hole for me to fuck until I decide you’re worth more than that?”

You whined—completely at his mercy.

He tightened his grip on your neck, choking you just enough to make your vision blur at the edges.

“I said,” he snarled, hips snapping into you with punishing rhythm, “do you like being used?”

“Y-Yes, Daddy—”

That name. That name.

He groaned darkly, slamming into you so hard your toes left the ground for a second.

“Of course you do. Fucking brat.”

His free hand came down hard on your ass—smack—then again, until the skin stung, and all you could do was take it, let him rut into you while you cried out into the sheets.

Then he bent you forward again, one hand fisting your hair this time, the other dragging down your back possessively. “Look at this,” he murmured, watching your body ripple with every thrust. “Taking me so well for someone who doesn’t know how to fucking listen.”

You were babbling by now, some mix of apologies and moans and desperate pleas for more—words you didn’t even know you were saying, your body already starting to tighten again, dangerously close to coming.

He noticed. He always noticed.

“Don’t you fucking dare,” he growled, slapping your clit once, sharp and precise. You screamed.

“Please—please, I can’t—!”

“You can.” He leaned over your back, kissed your shoulder almost mockingly, then bit it. “You’ll come when I say so, and not a second before.”

Your hands struggled against the cloth binding you, but there was no escape—only the relentless rhythm of his hips, the stretch of his cock, the burn of need threatening to swallow you whole.

He pulled out suddenly, and you cried out at the loss—only to be flipped over roughly, legs pushed wide, knees to your chest. The look in his eyes was deadly.

“You want to come so badly?”

You nodded, eyes wild, begging silently.

“Then earn it.”

He shoved back in, deeper than before, and started fucking you like a man possessed. Sweat dripped from his brow, muscles tense, his voice a constant stream of filth between gritted teeth.

“Losing your fucking mind on my cock… Look at you. Crying for it.”

Your vision blurred with tears.

“Say it,” he snarled, grabbing your cheeks to force your eyes to his. “Say whose you are.”

“Y-Yours, Daddy—!”

“And who does this pussy belong to?”

“You—Only you—!”

He growled again, nearly folding you in half as he drove into you harder, faster, until you were screaming his name into the room, your second orgasm detonating like a bomb inside you, every muscle locking tight.

And this time?

He let you have it.

He watched you fall apart, eyes fixed on your trembling body as he finally gave in, pulled out just in time to stroke himself fast over your stomach, cum spilling hot and thick across your skin with a ragged moan of your name.

“Fuck… fuck—”

Then silence.

Only the sound of your shattered breathing, the tremble in your thighs.

Then soft hands untied your wrists. Warm fingers cupped your cheeks.

“Hey…” he whispered, thumb brushing away a tear. “You okay?”

You nodded, dazed.

“You really drive me insane, you know that?”

You smiled, weak and ruined.

“I like making you crazy.”

He laughed, kissed your forehead, and whispered, “Good. Because I’m not done with you yet.”

He stayed there for a moment, just kneeling between your legs, his breathing still ragged, sweat dotting his flushed skin.

You were a mess—trembling, legs spread, slick and cum coating your thighs and stomach. But the moment he looked at you again, all that brutal dominance melted into something tender. His expression shifted.

“Hey, baby.” His voice was soft now, impossibly gentle.

He leaned down, kissed your forehead. Then your cheek. Then your lips—slow and unhurried, like he hadn’t just ruined you minutes ago.

“You okay?” he murmured against your mouth.

You nodded, but your body was still twitching.

“I’m gonna clean you up, yeah?”

You hummed in response, eyes fluttering closed as his hands moved over your body—soft now, tracing bruises with guilt-lined fingers, kissing your wrists where the cloth had pressed into your skin. He wiped between your legs with warm, damp cloths, whispering apologies when you flinched.

“There we go… good girl. You did so well.”

You should’ve been spent, drifting. But then he kissed your chest—first out of affection.

Then again.

And again.

And then he lingered, mouth warm and open over your nipple, and your eyes snapped open.

“Chan…”

He hummed around you, tongue circling before he gently sucked, wet and slow.

“I thought…” you breathed. “I thought we were done…”

He looked up, and his eyes were anything but innocent.

“I said i wasn’t.” he murmured, switching to the other breast, dragging his teeth softly over the tender skin. “And I remembered how good these taste.”

You whined, arching as his hand slipped up your ribs, cupping one breast while his mouth worked the other.

“You’re still sensitive,” he said, almost in awe. “Still twitching every time I touch you…”

“Chan—!”

“You can take it. One more.” His lips curved into a wicked grin as he latched on again, tongue flicking fast against your nipple while his fingers rolled the other.

The ache between your thighs returned like a flame sparking to life.

Your hands found his curls, tugging, and he groaned softly against your chest, only sucking harder, sloppier now—like he couldn’t stop, couldn’t get enough.

Your hips shifted on instinct.

“You gonna come just from this?” he murmured against your skin. “From me sucking on your pretty tits like this?”

You moaned, and he didn’t stop—licking, sucking, kneading you like you were his personal obsession.

“I could do this all night,” he whispered. “Look at how wrecked you are already. One more, baby. Let me have one more.”

And honestly?

You were helpless to deny him.

His hand trailed down your stomach, fingers brushing over your puffy clit like a ghost. Just enough to make you jerk.

“Fuck, you’re soaked again.”

He chuckled darkly and sucked harder at your nipple, flicking the tip with his tongue before gently biting down—just enough to make your back arch.

Then his fingers returned, sliding over your folds, deliberately avoiding your clit.

“I didn’t even touch you yet,” he said, licking a circle around your nipple. “You’re dripping already.”

“Chan—” you gasped, but he cut you off with another deep suck, tongue dragging over the wet, sensitive skin as he slipped two fingers between your legs and finally rubbed tight circles on your clit.

Your whole body jolted.

“Oh my god—”

“There it is,” he purred, watching you squirm. “Look at you—hips rocking, tits bouncing while I suck on them and make you come on my fingers like a good girl.”

The pleasure was building again, sharper now, and too fast. He was sucking you like he was starving, moaning into your chest, fingers relentless on your clit while you writhed beneath him.

“C-Chan—!”

“You gonna come for me again?” he murmured, still flicking your nipple with his tongue. “Gonna soak my fingers while I suck on your pretty tits like they’re mine?”

You cried out, thighs shaking, hips jerking up as that pressure snapped.

You came—hard—legs trembling, moans strangled, head thrown back against the pillow while his fingers slowed down just enough to let you ride it out.

He didn’t stop licking your nipple, though. Didn’t stop dragging those sinful fingers in slow, wet circles.

You twitched again. And again.

Too much.

“Too much—!”

“Shh, I got you,” he whispered, lifting his head to kiss your mouth this time, swallowing your desperate whimpers. “So good. So perfect. I could fuckin’ worship this body all night.”

You collapsed, breathless, overstimulated, skin on fire—and Chan was still there, touching, kissing, whispering sweet filth like he had all the time in the world to love you apart.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Authors note: And we have come to the end of the Angry boys series! It was fun writing all that smutty angst lol 😂 NOW WE CAN START TAKING REQUESTS!

Taglist: @tsunderelino @innieandsungielover @inlovewithstraykids @reignessance @jeonismm @sttnficrecs @herejusttemporary @krssliu @sagestarlight @kenia4 @miilquetoast @thackery-blinks @leeminho-hall @suga-is-bae @butterflydemons @inejghafawifesblog @malunar28replies @minchanlimbo @mal-lunar-28 @breakmeofftbr @itvenorica124 @slut4junho @deepblueocean97 @thequibbie @yaorzu-blog @imagine-all-the-imagines @just-bria @mischievousleeknow @universeyuto @ifyxu @melanctton @thelostprincessofasgard @binniebb @sillylittlecat1 @darkwitchoferie @m-325 @headfirstfortoro @imseungminsgf @ihrtlix @vernorica123 @hwangjoanna @swordswallower2000 @niki007 @yxna-bliss

[wheeloffortune-design]

I guess you're unlucky because I just happened to glance at the comments on this post a year and a half after posting it. And your comment was near the top. So, graciously,

fuck you.

Telling someone that the way they reacted to empty platitudes the day their father died is 'kind of being a dick' is more than being rude, it's being cruel.

The whole post was about how, for one day, I decided to not entertain someone else's fantasy. For one day, I did not smile, placate, kept silent. That day was not about them, it was about me, my siblings, my step mother. That day, no one else's feelings mattered to me. I gave myself the right to be unpleasant while my father was dying down the hall.

It's incredibly hard to find something to say to someone when they're grieving. I've been on that side too. You can appreciate the thoughts and prayers, but nothing forces you to play along.

So I told my aunts that they could stop telling me about heaven, about how I would see him again someday, because I didn't believe that. I told that other family friend she could stop trying to give me her crystals because I didn't believe in that either.

The post I wrote a year and a half ago is about how they reacted badly to me rejecting their words. It was never about me, I don't regret what I said. It was about their reaction.

And here you call me a dick, for refusing to placate them on the worst day of my life.

I'm replying to this message not for you, but for the same reason I wrote the original post in the first place. Not knowing it would resonate with so many people, I just wanted to share my experience because I'd never heard anyone else speak of it. Maybe it could help someone, or make them feel less alone in this horrible feeling. I am lucky, it seemed to have helped several people.

If you are grieving, or when you will grieve, because we're all doomed to know grief, here are the things I learned, from that worst day of my life, and the 879 days since:

there is no good or bad way to live this pain. there is no correct way. you do whatever you can, however you want, to deal with this.

there is nothing good about this situation. don't look for the silver lining. accept that it's horrible. don't try to change this feeling into something it isn't because you feel like there should be a good side to this. there isn't. you loved them, and they're gone. it hurts.

it will get better, slowly, very slowly. you just need to make it through. but it will always hurt, at the strangest moments. the tears, years later, will be as true as the tears from the first day. this will be a relief.

and this is the whole point of the original post: if and when you lose someone close to you, you need to focus on your own pain, and not placate the other people, the ones who don't hurt as much as you do. it's not about them, it's about you. when the funeral comes, don't spend your energy in niceties, in small talk. don't make it a show for other people. take that time to get your closure. protect jealously your grief. it's your time, it's not a presentation.

The day of the funeral, a cousin talked to me about ancient Egypt, trying to cheer me up with a subject he knows I love. He started telling me about how the pyramids were built by ancient aliens, he'd seen something on youtube about it. I stopped him, told him I didn't believe in that. He was disappointed, but his disappointed was not my problem.

Tell me, should I have changed myself and nodded at his ludicrous conspiracy theory? Should I have accepted my aunt's crystal beads because they were supposed to give me strength? Then why should I have accepted something that, for me, is as completely false as ancient aliens and crystal beads?

Every other day, you need to meet people halfway. The day your father died, then his funeral? fuck that. their feelings are not your problem. don't let them make their feelings your problem.

grief fucking sucks, and this is me giving you permission to not make yourself smaller for other people when your loved ones die.

it's been a year so i feel more comfortable talking about it..

when you're atheist and you lose someone, religious people don't really know how to interact with you. it's fine, we have different worldviews.

'He's in a better place, now.'

Sorry auntie, but I don't believe that. I believe that his brain stopped working at 5h55pm on december 11th 2022, and that's it. Nothing after that.

It makes grief very difficult, because not believing in god or the afterlife also means accepting that you will never, ever see that person again. That's it. The end. Nada mas.

But, back to the aunties and other faceless people gravitating in the grey blurry waters of your awareness.

They tell you 'He's with god now' and you tell them 'Yeah I don't believe that' and.

they. get. annoyed.

Here I am, gutted open, the worst day of my life, barely holding myself together, and they! Get annoyed that I won't smile and entertain their point of view!

Another faceless person tried to heal me with cristals. She also got annoyed when I told her I didn't believe in that.

I usually don't really mind religious people. It's fine, we have different worldviews. I think I'm right but so do they. As long as they're good people, I don't judge them for their faith.

I'll even be grateful for them trying to console me. I get that you're trying to give me strength and love. Thank you.

But I'm going to be true to myself, yes even when I'm mad with shock and grief. And I still can't believe they got annoyed that I didn't play along to placate them, on the worst day of my life.

(I wanted to share because I've never heard anyone talk about atheism and grief, and the loneliness that comes out of it.)

[itoshiierae]

bllk boys as cliché relationship tropes 𝜗𝜚

──★ ˙🧷 ̟ !!

ᡣ𐭩 ft: rin itoshi, sae itoshi, michael kaiser, karasu tabito & otoya eita

ᡣ𐭩 notes: just me projecting my brainrot and assigning the bllk boys cliché relationship tropes bc it’s fun 😋 and if this does well, trust that i’ll be feeding y’all with more!!!! bc yes i do want to see bachira as the golden retriever sunshine bf and reo as the “i’ve been in love with you forever” rich boy 😩🥹

──★ ˙🧷 ̟ !!

♡ RIN ITOSHI ♡ — “THE GRUMPY ONE FALLS FIRST”

he’s the classic emotionally constipated one who denies his feelings for the longest time. he’s always annoyed when you tease him, but secretly waits for your texts and gets irrationally mad when you’re close with someone else. once he falls??? it’s deep, silent devotion!!!! he memorizes your coffee order. he waits outside your class without saying a word. he won’t admit it, but you’re his entire soft spot.

♡ SAE ITOSHI ♡ — “ENEMIES TO LOVERS WITH MUTUAL PINING”

the eye-roll king. you two definitely started off snapping at each other — too similar, too proud. but behind those sharp comments are glances that linger too long, tension that crackles during arguments, and soft touches that feel like accidents. when it finally breaks???? it’s explosive and painfully overdue. he falls in love with your fire, even if he’ll never say it first.

♡ MICHAEL KAISER ♡ — “PLAYER FALLS FOR THE ONE WHO COULDNT CARE LESS”

this man flirts like it’s breathing — until you show up and don’t fall at his feet. now that drives him insane!!! he starts seeking your validation without realizing it, doing the most ridiculous things to get your attention. and when he finally falls??? he falls HARD. obsessively. positively sickeningly devoted!!!! well, he’ll still act smug, but now he’s the one checking your stories at 3am and blowing off interviews to see you.

♡ KARASU TABITO ♡ — “THE BESTFRIEND WHO’S ALWAYS BEEN IN LOVE WITH YOU”

he’s your chaos bestie who jokes about being your boyfriend but lowkey means every word. he’s the one who drives you home, lends you his hoodie, and always says “just friends, right?” with a smile that never quite reaches his eyes. but the moment you actually reach for his hand???? he’s ALL in. no hesitation. you were his all along, and he was just waiting for you to notice.

♡ OTOYA EITA ♡ — “THE FLIRT WHO ACCIDENTALLY FALLS IN LOVE”

he starts off light — winks, late-night texts, compliments that make you roll your eyes. he’s never serious… until he is!!!! until his flirty little grin falters when someone else gets too close. and when he realizes it??? he literally panics. flirts harder. gets jealous. and eventually admits,

“this wasn’t supposed to happen, but i think it’s you. it’s always been you.”

© itoshiierae 2025 𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅ please do not modify or repost my content onto any other platforms.

[hufflezki]

summary: remus thinks you're way out of his league. but, to his own surprise, you're here to prove him wrong.

-> remus lupin x gn!reader, just remus yearning & pining, swearing (because, cmon, its remus), inspired by role model's song (with the same name), word count: 1,503

Remus first met you during one of his Herbology classes. Where you helped him with his trouble with the Venomous Tentacula plants. The teethy little bastards annoyed him to no extent—his words—but you had come to his aid and stunned them every time they tried to bite him. He really wanted to make it up to you then, but you insisted. And you never really crossed paths again.

Until James barged into their common room, with you following behind him. Remus noticed you immediately and his breath caught. Turns out James knew you, he had for a while. Ever since he was paired with you for a Charms homework. And you have apparently taught him how to make a flower crown. Which was why James traveled from the courtyard to his common room, just to show his friends the ones you both made.

Remus didn't exactly know how they got you to start hanging out with them. One day you just sat next to them during lunch, and now they’re adding you to every weekend plans that they have. Remus’ friends accepted your addition to the group as if it was just any other day. But for him, it felt quite a lot.

Not to sound like he doesn't like you, it's actually quite the opposite.

Remus could go on with a list about why you're the sweetest person he has ever met. But that’d be never ending, which is probably why he’s in his bed right now, moping to himself about why you just have to be so out of his league. And this was purely coming from after he saw you interacting with Amos Diggory. Even though he probably just asked you a question. Remus shivers at the thought, embarrassed by his own jealousy. He was barely even eating the chocolate you’d given him this morning, having lost the appetite.

Merlin, how did you get him to act like this? He wasn't even supposed to be this miserable so early in the month. And yet here he was curled up in his bed, hiding himself under his blanket, as he let his guilt eat him up. You did look comfortable talking to Amos, though. He wonders if you ever looked at him that way too. If you feel comfortable talking to him at all.

A whine emits from the back of his throat, as he buries his face on his pillows. He was fucked, definitely fucked. You’re too good for him, you deserve someone better. But then he didn't like the image of seeing you with somebody else. So what the fuck is wrong with him?

“Remus? Hey, Moons.” He hears James’ voice as he comes in, closing the door behind him. The curly haired boy comes into Remus’ view with a wide smile, which falters when he sees his friend looking like.. shit. “Woah, what’s gotten into you?” James sits down next to him, eyebrows furrowed, worried. Remus sighs, his mood completely shifted now that James is here. After all, it's hard to wallow in your self-pity when you’ve got company.

“Nothing, I just woke up. What’d you need?”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, James, I am quite certain.” Remus presses on, and James lifts his hands up in mock surrender. So, he starts talking about how he’s playing a board game with Sirius and Peter downstairs, and asks Remus if he wants to join. Which he originally said no to, but then James mentioned you’re also downstairs. So, now Remus is making his way down to the common room, following James’ steps.

Did he just spend the last couple of minutes crying about you? Yes.

Was he about to miss an opportunity to be with you? No.

Is he pathetic and a coward? Yes. Abso-fucking-lutely.

And turns out, the only way out of his miserable, depressing, and guilty state is you. You and the sweater you're wearing, that looks oddly similar to his. “Hi, Remus.” You smile once you see him—and it's so bright you might as well put the sun into shame—and he sits down next to you on the sofa.

You must’ve sensed that something's up with him, as you immediately rest your head on his shoulder. And he welcomes it, completely melting once you’re in near proximity. You don’t talk, you don't ask him any questions, you just sit there and offer him your comfort—silently. And maybe that’s just what Remus needs. A moment where he could turn his mind off, and don't let his thoughts consume him.

In a span of an hour, you managed to convince Remus to walk outside. And maybe it's just him trying to distract himself, but he’s pretty sure you might have Legilimency. Because why else would you take him to the Black Lake to see the sunset? If you didn’t know, he felt absolutely horrible? But, on a more serious note, you’ve always been spontaneous. And he likes that about you. Especially, when you pay attention to him so much that you know when things start to feel off.

Things like this, it makes him think if he really does have a chance with you or not.

“This is yours, by the way.” You admit, pulling on his sweater that you’re wearing while looking up at him, expectantly. And his eyes widened. “How?” He seems much more amused than you expected. “I was cold earlier, and this was the first thing Sirius gave me.” Remus raises his brow at the mention of Sirius’ name. “I asked him where he got it, and he said you let him borrow it.” Then you let out a laugh, finding it ridiculous. “Which I was suspicious about, but I didn’t ask him again.”

Fuck, Remus knew exactly why Sirius gave his sweater specifically to you.

“Looks like I have to talk to him about stealing my things.” You smile, glancing up at him and then down on the ground. He watches you kick a few pebbles to the lake, as a comfortable silence falls into you both. Then you say his name, and he hums, meeting your gaze once again.

“If you ever need someone to talk to, I’m here.” It's sudden, and he doesn't exactly know where it came from, but Remus appreciates your sentiment. More than so, when he finds your hand inching closer to his. And he’s never been brave enough to initiate the first move, yet here is, intertwining his hand with yours.

“Is this alright?” Remus whispers, voice coated with uncertainty. He’s already bracing himself to pull away, expecting the worst. But you tighten your hold, pulling him closer to you. “More than alright.” You assure him, lifting the weight off his shoulders. And he thinks this is the most convinced he’s been that he might have a chance with you. Because, all this time—as pathetic as it sounded—he would only wish for something to happen.

So, what if he did sneak into the Divination classroom, and tried to look into a crystal ball to see if there’s a future with the both of you together? He was desperate! Okay? He wouldn't have done it if it wasn't for the nagging voice inside his mind.

But it seems that he no longer has to come up with such desperate measures. As the universe presents with something more interesting. “Can I tell you something, Remus?” You ask, and he nods his head in response.

“I’ve liked you for so long. And this isn't exactly how I imagined I’d tell you–”

“You like me?”

He didn't really mean to interrupt you, but his mind may have short circuited the moment he heard the words ‘I like you’ . You look at him, baffled as to why he’s acting like this is a new discovery. Which it is, for him.

“Wait. You didn't know?” He shakes his head, and you cover your mouth in surprise. “How come? I thought I’d made it so obvious?” You really did think so. I mean, you’re wearing his sweater for Merlin’s sake! But, typical Remus, he’d rather assume the worst than ever think you had the same intentions as him.

“There might’ve been, uhm, some slight issues with the transmission, perhaps?”

“You mean you really didn't have a clue?” He nods his head, and you can't help the sudden laugh that comes out of you. “Did you tell James or Sirius?” Remus asks, and you nod your head. “I told both of them.” He gawks at you, before looking away to run a hand through his hair, currently in distress.

“Is that bad? That I only found out about it now?” You shake your head, things were already going the different direction, anyway.

“No, not at all.”

Maybe this isn't how the both of you expected for things to go. Remus thought you’d never like him back, but here he is pulling you closer after you just told him otherwise. And he felt the strong urge to really make it up to you this time.

marauders era masterlist ꩜ .ᐟ

[prettygirl-gabi]

Home Is Where You Are

Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Reader (Mom!Paige x Mom!Y/N)

Fandom: WNBA-Dallas Wings

Summary: 14 hour shifts, wnba mom and a cute little 7 year old… sounds like home

🏷️: @paigeshirleytemple , @cowboybueckers , @unknowgirlypop , @yailtsv , @nicebellee , @sitawita , @thatonesuschix , @vamptizm , @elalfywhore , @starfulani , @authentic-girl03 , @paxaz535 , @azziswrld , @jadasogay , @paigeluvvr , @melpthatsme , @lessi-lover , @courtsidewithlani , @elswhore , @italyyy , @lightsgore , @private-but-not-a-secret , @aubreygriffin , @issilovesherself , @graceeeeeesblog , @sayurireidotcom , @iwasbored-okay

PAIGE’S POV

The sound of little feet hitting the floor makes me pause the show playing in the background—some rerun of Bluey, I think.

Ashton’s been asleep for about two hours now.

We’d done the whole bedtime routine—bath, stories, warm milk, even extra snuggles in his Star Wars blanket.

I’d kissed his forehead and tucked him in like always.

So hearing the pitter-patter of those socked feet at almost 11 p.m. makes my heart race a little.

I sit up, stretching an arm over the side of the bed just in case he makes it all the way to our room.

Sure enough, he appears at the doorway, hair tousled and his little pajama shirt clinging to him like he’d just been sweating in his sleep. His stuffed frog, Franklin, dangles from one hand.

“Mommy?” he says in that sleepy, trembling voice that makes my chest ache.

“I’m here, baby,” I say instantly, scooting back and pulling the blanket up.

He doesn’t hesitate. He practically leaps into the bed and wiggles his way under the covers beside me.

“Did you have a bad dream?” I whisper, brushing some curls off his forehead. He nods and curls into my side like he’s still unsure if I’m real.

“I… I dreamed you were gone,” he mumbles, clutching Franklin tighter.

“Like… both of you were gone, and the house was empty, and it was raining inside. The TV was on but it was all broken.”

I pull him even closer.

“Oh, bubba,” I sigh, kissing the top of his head. “You know we’d never leave you, right?”

“I had to run down the hall to make sure you were still here,” he admits, voice barely above a whisper now. “When I saw you in bed, I felt better.”

I blink a few times, heart full and breaking all at once. “Well, I’m here. And you’re safe. Mama’s just working a long shift tonight, remember?”

He nods again, but he doesn’t let go of me.

“Wanna watch something with me?” I ask softly. “We can put on Disney Junior.”

“Bluey?” he murmurs.

“You got it.”

I grab the remote from the nightstand and flick it to Disney Junior. The screen lights up the room in a soft glow, and Ashton settles in, cheek resting on my arm as the opening theme plays.

“Mama’s gonna be home when you wake up,” I tell him.

“I know,” he whispers, and I hear the exhaustion finally start to take over his voice. “I just wanted to be with you…”

“I always want to be with you too, bub.”

He falls asleep like that, one small hand tucked against my side and the other wrapped around Franklin.

And even though it’s late and I’m a little sore from practice earlier, I feel like I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.

Y/N’S POV

The hospital hallway smells like antiseptic and black coffee, and I can’t tell anymore whether the hum in my ears is from the lights or from being on my feet for fourteen straight hours.

It’s 4:47 a.m.

The overnight shift is brutal.

Worse when it’s back-to-back with another one tomorrow. But someone’s gotta do it.

And truth be told—I miss my family so much it aches.

The only reason I got through tonight was because Paige sent a selfie around 9 p.m. of her and Ashton cuddled on the couch, both wearing their Dallas Wings hoodies, eating popcorn and making faces at the camera.

I live for those pictures.

I live for them.

I glance at my phone again while changing out of my scrubs in the locker room.

Paige B.

“He’s in bed. We watched Bluey and ate too many Oreos. Love you.”

sent 11:13 p.m.

I smile, small and tired, as I slip on my hoodie and head toward the parking garage.

The drive home is blurry.

My body aches, but my mind is running on one track: I need a shower, I need my girl, and I need to kiss my son good morning even if he’s still asleep.

The front door creaks as I push it open, and I’m extra careful with the key.

The house is quiet, dark, but I hear the faint sound of a TV still running somewhere—cartoon voices, soft and steady.

The hallway to our room feels longer in the silence.

And then I see it: the glow of the TV playing Bluey, Paige curled up under the blanket, and Ashton snuggled tight against her, his little hand still gripping Franklin.

God, they’re beautiful.

Paige is facing him but I can tell she’s not in a deep sleep.

It’s that kind of half-rest she always falls into when she’s waiting for me.

I backtrack to the bathroom, turning the water on low and hot, tiptoeing through the routine to avoid waking anyone.

The shower hits my skin and I wince.

But not from the hotness of the water.

It’s been a long day.

A brutal one.

I just want to scrub the hospital off of me and crawl into bed between the two loves of my life.

I’m just washing my arms when I hear the door creak open.

“Ma?” Paige’s voice is soft, raspy, still half-asleep.

I turn and smile as she steps in, blinking through the steam.

She doesn’t say anything else.

Just steps in behind me, arms sliding around my waist as her cheek presses to my shoulder.

“You should be asleep,” I murmur.

“I don’t fully sleep when you’re not home,” she says, and I feel her lips kiss the top of my spine. “How was your shift?”

“Exhausting,” I admit, leaning into her touch.

“Let me help,” she whispers.

She takes the loofah from me gently and begins washing my back, slow and tender, like I’m made of glass.

Her fingers trail behind each motion, pressing soft, familiar circles into my shoulders, down my spine.

Her lips kiss just below my neck.

“I missed you,” I breathe.

“I missed you more,” she counters.

The water runs warm between us, and it feels like the whole world fades for a minute.

There’s no hospital.

No overtime.

No sore muscles.

Just her.

Her touch.

Her love.

After a few more minutes, we rinse off, dry each other in soft, tired silence, and slip back into bed.

Ashton hasn’t moved an inch.

He’s in the exact same spot—except now, his hand is outstretched slightly, like he was waiting for someone else to return.

I slip into the bed and press a kiss to his forehead.

Paige pulls the blanket over us and slides in behind me, her arm wrapping around both me and Ashton.

Her chin rests lightly against my shoulder.

“TV okay?” she mumbles, eyes already starting to flutter closed again.

“Perfect,” I whisper.

The screen glows in the dim room, playing a soft, familiar theme song.

And even though I’m bone tired, my heart is so full it could burst.

Later That Morning. After I had only a few hours of sleep and the sun is peaking through the curtains more.

I’m now half-awake when I feel little fingers tapping my arm.

“Mama?” Ashton’s voice is tiny.

I blink open my eyes. “Hey, bub…”

“You’re home!” he beams, climbing over Paige to smush himself into my arms.

I pull him close, pressing my nose into his curls. “I’m home.”

“I had a bad dream,” he mumbles again. “But Mommy let me sleep with her. She said you’d be back.”

“She was right.”

I glance over and see Paige still half-asleep, smiling into the pillow.

“Wanna watch Bluey again?” I ask him.

“Only if you stay with us this time.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

I hold him tight, Paige’s hand finding mine under the blanket.

Disney Junior keeps playing.

And just like that—we’re whole again.

■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■

                 -Thank You For Reading!💚💙

                             -prettygirl-gabi✨️💗

[temiizpalace]

❥┊OPERATION: ANNIVERSARY

SUMMARY: you two decided to celebrate your anniversary every month. it was his turn to give you a gift, and he had nothing prepared for you! out of panic, he searches for backup. operation: anniversary!

CHARACTERS: first years

╰ ˙∘ …

GENRE: fluffy fluff with a side of fluff and fluff on top

WARNINGS: none

NOTES: pairings were randomly selected by wheel for more interesting interactions + lots of "ily's". please enjoy!

reader is g/n, reader is not specified to be you

❤┊ACE TRAPPOLA

ace huffs, staring at the chocolate that’s been resting in the fridge for what felt like ages.

fiddling with the nicely wrapped ribbon, he stares at the calendar blankly, dreading the upcoming days. “oi, ace. this entire week you’ve been spacing out in the middle of cleanup! housewarden will have our heads if the kitchen ain’t spotless.” deuce grits his teeth, brushing the dust from the floors into a dustpan.

“shaddup, deuce. can’t ya see im busy?” ace huffs in response, brushing his companion off with a frown. peering over his shoulder, deuce narrows his eyes and looks to ace, brows furrowed. “did you even get them anything back?” he asks, setting down his cleaning supplies off to the right. ace remains silent, wiping an imaginary sweat off his brow.

“not cool, ace.” he scoffs, causing ace to jerk his head back with a defensive expression. “im working on it! just you wait, my gift will be so good it’ll knock all competition outta the water!” he declares, storming out of the room with the chocolates in hand.

laying still on the couch, ace groans as he racks his brain for ideas, feeling lost and hopeless. “urrghh, why..” he mopes, putting a pillow over his face with a solemn sigh. love was such a struggle.. gifts were never this hard, so why was he overthinking it so damn much? somedays he wish he could just suck up these stupid feelings and toss them out to never see the light of day.

“woaahh, did somebody die in here?” cater exclaims, looking at ace’s lifeless body. he takes note of the chocolate resting in the first years hand, his mind putting the pieces together with a cheeky grin. “were those from [MC]..?” he asks, leaning against the armrest.

looking from behind the cushion, ace looks to cater’s face, then to the chocolate. with a slight blush, he covers the exposed parts of his face with his hand and grumbles. “so what if they were?”

“your monthly anniversary is soon, yknow. got anything planned?” the same damn question. ace frowns at his upperclassman and sits up. for once he doesn’t say anything, only earning a raised brow from the boy across from him. pulling out his phone, cater opens up magicam and plops himself next to ace.

“heree~☆! check out what’s trending for some fresh inspo!” cater grins, scrolling through the reels and reels of videos in the #anniversary tag. all the videos were nothing short of extravagant, insanely thoughtful acts of love to their partner. ace’s brows knitted together, side-eyeing cater.

“and how am i supposed to pull any of that off?” he scoffs, crossing his arms and leaning back. cater tuts, wagging his finger. “silly ace.. the trick is to show your love in your own way,” he explains with a wink. “your love is uniquely yours, and the ways you express it are accustomed to you. if [MC] really likes you, then any act of love you give them will be enough.”

sitting there for a moment, ace thought cater’s words over carefully. “uniquely mine..” he whispered, staring at the ground. with a small pat on the back, cater stands upright and waves as he exits. “i’ll be in the rose garden. text if ya need anything, kayy?”

ace has yet to budge from his spot, resting his chin on his hand. “uniquely mine, huh?” he repeats, images of you flashing across his mind. he smiled softly to himself, taking a glance at the chocolate in his hands. with a slight chuckle, he gets up and walks towards sam’s shop. “this love stuff stinks.” he murmurs with a grin.

❥˙∘ ✦

“this is for me?” you ask, holding the item in your hands. it was encased in a small velvet pouch, the material feeling very nice in your palms. you were surprised at how fancy this packaging was considering the one giving it to you was ace of all people. “yeah, yeah, sure. consider this a repayment for last celebration.” ace shrugs, trying to act nonchalant about this exchange.

he tried to mask the beating sound of his heart, desperately praying you were unaware of the way you make his heart race increasingly fast. you open the pouch to find a keychain. there were small charms on it, but the one that stood out to you the most was the ace of hearts charm hanging in the center. he averts your eyes, whistling as if he didn’t plan all this with a light blush on his cheeks.

you stare at it in the light, a smile forming at the corners of your lips. “ace..” you begin, trailing off, unable to find the words appropriate enough for your gratitude. “no need to thank me, i know, i know.” he smiled triumphantly, making you laugh.

“..i’ll cherish this.” walking over to him, you were going to pull him into an embrace, but he beat you to it. “thank you.” he murmurs softly, a contrast to his usual sarcastic tone and remarks. his voice was genuine, laced with raw emotion. patting his back, you smiled at him in response. “love you.” you coo, making his ears red.

“love ya, too.”

♠┊DEUCE SPADE

deuce sits at his desk, crumpling another piece of paper for the nth time before tossing it into the overflowing trash bin.

his side of the room was littered in tossed sheets of paper, looking like a madman who has yet to find a plan. to be fair, that was not far-off. deuce sighs as he lifts the parchment in the air to get a better look, smiling to himself proudly. it was then did he notice the small mistake on one of the letters, causing the poor boy to furrow his brow and crumple the paper. he tossed it, letting it join the rest of the stack.

ace kicks through the sea of discarded letters, frowning as the pile seemed never ending. “aagghh, couldn’t ya at least try to be neater, deuce?” he whines, picking up a letter and uncrumpling it to reveal the messily written handwriting.

“dont!” deuce shot upward, yanking the parchment out of his roommates hand and tearing it to shreds. “GAH—!” ace exclaims, holding his hands up in defense. “whatever, it wasn’t decipherable anyway.” he huffs, scratching the back of his neck. “look, we both know your tryna write to [MC]. just put down anythin, they’ll probably lose their mind over it anyway.”

deuce shakes his head, staring down at his recently written letter. rereading it in his head, he can’t help but feel unsatisfied, like something is missing from it. “but i don’t wanna give them a half-assed letter.. what if they don’t accept me? is this even enough to repay them?” he murmurs, holding it tightly to his chest. he felt he’ll never be able to give you enough, to repay you in a way that’ll truly reflect his love.

ace sighs, patting his friend on the back. “this might come off as a sick joke, but i do know one guy that could help.. just.. don’t freak out about it.” deuce looks up at ace, a look of expectance on his face. “thanks, man.”

..what?

deuce finds himself in front of idia’s room, contemplating as to whether ace was actually pranking him or if this was genuine advice. well, idia is an upperclassman.. surely he still has some advice to give. but then again, the guys a total shut-in. just as he was about to turn and leave, ortho chimes in from around the corner.

“deuce spade? what are you doing here!” he cheerily asks, catching deuce off guard. “ortho?! is your brother here?” he asks nervously, earning a nod from ortho. “yeah, he’s inside his room! we can go in together.” without giving deuce a moment, ortho is already knocking.

“ortho?” the voice from behind calls out. upon entry, idia is hunched over in his seat, one foot on the chair as he types away on his monitor. “deuce spade came to visit you, big bro!” ortho exclaims, causing idia to freeze. “..what..”

deuce waves awkwardly, clutching the letter in his hand tightly. “ace told me you could help me with something..” he murmurs, scratching the back of his neck. “..ya sure your not getting pranked?” idia sighs, narrowing his eyes at the boy across him. “even if he is prankin me, i’ll show him who’s the fool!” deuce grits his teeth, directing his frustration towards the redhead.

“what do you write to someone on their anniversary?” he asks straightforwardly, making idia’s eyes widening. “wh-what? and you th-think id know?! does it look like someone like me would have an anniversary?!” shaking his head, idia rolls back on his chair before hitting the wall. racking his brain for ideas, deuce tries to find ways to convince idia to help him. deuce was stubborn, and he doesn’t appreciate quitters.

“..ace said you of all people should have the most experience! you're a gaming guy, this is completely in your turf! shouldn’t you have years and years of knowledge?” deuce mentions, practically tooting idia's horn. he looks up from his curled position, letting the first years words register. his ego is boosted, confidence running to new heights. idia smirks, brushing off his shoulder. "well, i guess i do know a thing or two about romance.."

"im familiar with all the fan ships in games and manga. call me an expert." deuce lets out a sigh of relief as idia took the bait, rushing over to his desk to immediately ask for help. that was too easy.

❥˙∘ ✦

"[MC]!" deuce calls out, rushing over to you with a shout. you turn around in a hurry, noticing the poor boy out of breath. "deuce!? is everything alright?" you ask, suddenly getting an envelope shoved in your hand. "here!" deuce bows, giving the letter to you with two hands. "..what's this?" taking the sealed letter from his hands, you look to him as if asking to open it.

he nods in response, watching intensely as you unfolded the letter.

'dear [mc],

i dunno how 2 start this but thanks for the chocolate. you somehow made it exactly how i liked it and i thought it was really good. today, i wanna repay you for everything that you do for me cuz you really really deserve it. for our anniversary together.

every little thing about you, i want to celebrate on this day. ill return my feelings to you tenfold and promise you the awesomest day ever. we can do anything you want and maybe take a ride on my blastcycle after school. if you want i can bake you a cake as an even bigger thank you for today too. there's nothin out there that can really show my feelings so i hope this letter is ok

what im tryna say is thank you for everything. let me be the one to do something for you today and show you how much i really really like love you. happy anniversary to us ♡

-- deuce'

the handwriting was shaky, and dare you say this letter was awkward in some places. despite that, you can't help the heat sneaking up on your cheeks, the dopey grin on your face that says it all. deuce fidgets in place, his hands forming knuckles before finally breaking the silence. "th-the letter is pretty stupid anyway! here--let me just take it back!" he quickly exclaims, reaching for the letter before you hastily avoid his grasp. "no way!"

you instead grab the arm that reached for the letter and brought him into an embrace instead. he stands there, dumbfounded for a moment. "its perfect, deuce." you smile as he returns your hug, squeezing you tightly.

no words needed to be exchanged at that moment. the calm silence filled the air as you both keep your positions for a few moments more.

🐺┊JACK HOWL

mindlessly watering his cactus, jack's thoughts seemed to wander.

your monthly anniversary was just around the corner, yet he had no gift for you. he was disgusted with himself.. he had the whole month to think of something, anything you might like, yet he had nothing. what a sign of weakness, he thought, frowning as he set down the watering can.

during his reps, he barely kept count. all he thought about was what he could get you.. yet the feat seemed impossible. would anything he give even be good enough? the chocolate you gave him was great, amazing even. all his questions led to more questions, then even more questions.

not to mention during class did he look more sour than usual. students nearly paved the way as he passed through the halls, wondering what the hell put this guy in such a foul mood. "jack?" epel calls out, snapping jack out of his week long daze. "is everything alright? you looked seriously more intimidating today an' yesterday." epel shakes his head, trying to guess what this was about.

"..it's nothing." jack sighs, crossing his arms and walking far past epel before the interrogation could even begin. he can't handle this right now. nothing a good run can't fix. thankfully track and field met today, maybe then will he be put back to normal.

however, he still felt lost the entire time. not once has he ever felt this way before, the feeling is foreign. he has received chocolate, but never from someone he truly fell for. the unfamiliar feelings swallowed him whole, drowned him with uncertainty and confusion. he scowls as he ran, accelerating faster and faster after each lap. deuce notices jack acting more off, furrowing his brow during the break.

"jack!" deuce shouts, alerting the beastman. "what's going on with you? for the past month you have that same blank look on your face." he shrugs, watching as jack averted his gaze. "it's nothing." he states, ready to end the conversation before suddenly getting stopped by deuce. "it's not nothing! something is bothering you and keeping aint gonna do anything!" deuce exclaims confidently, practically forcing jack into a corner.

"..it's not any of your business." jack grits, trying to find a way out. "is this about [MC]? yknow, after the chocolates?" deuce mentions, causing jack to practically freeze in his tracks. "i told you it wasn't any of your business." he huffs, turning his back to deuce.

"if you're worried, im sure they'd be happy with anything you get them! even just being around you makes them happy, so don't beat yourself up over it!" reassuring the lost beastman, he pats jack on the shoulders and throws him a thumbs up. oddly enough, jack felt slightly relieved. knowing at least somebody had his back put him at ease, nodding his head at deuce's advice.

"okay, gotcha. thanks." with that quick talk, jack is already back to running. his pace is back to normal and his expression had been reverted to its previous glory. the track team sighs in relief, celebrating deuce for bringing their star back down to earth.

❥˙∘ ✦

"jack, this is so cute!" you squealed, grasping the silver wolf plushie in your hands tightly. he crossed his arms, staring at the space above your head rather than right at you.

“this is what i owe you after last month..” he murmurs, causing you so smile slightly. “mhm, your tail is wagging.” he tries to hide it, grabbing it to prevent it from moving rapidly. jack grumbles something under his breath as his face started to heat up.

“thank you.” pulling jack close, you wrap your arms tightly around him. he flinches, trying to find a reaction. gently, he returns the hug. his ears twitch, tail wagging and brushing against your leg. jack smiles, staring into your eyes.

“this was the least i could do for you. after everything.” he brushes against your cheek with his finger, unable to hide his loving gaze. “i love you, jack.” you coo, squeezing him tightly.

“love you too.” he whispered, kissing the top of your head with a lovestruck grin.

🍎┊EPEL FELMIER

epel scratched his chin, glaring at the mirror with intensity.

“dangnabbit.. stupid, stupid..” cursing himself for forgetting such an important day, epel stewed as he started scratching his scalp, racking his brain for even a faint idea. “nahh.. maybe— no..” he murmurs, shaking his head on occasion.

the chocolate you made him was delicious, he ate it all in one sitting! he was thinking of making you some back, but he’d hate to recycle your ideas as vil said it “wasn’t romantic enough.” salty about that comment, he didn’t dare ask his housewarden for help. but the gift completely slipped his mind, and now he was empty handed. “arrrgggghh… what a load of—”

“epel.” a voice breaks through the boys mindless sputtering, jerking his head towards the sound of the voice. vil stood there with a raised brow, silently demanding epel to stop scratching his chin. “are you trying to get acne?” he sighs, massaging his temple.

epel moved his hand back to his side, mumbling an apology before turning back to the mirror. “are you positive you don’t need my help?” vil frowns, crossing his arms at the helpless first year in front of him. “dang right.. ahem, i mean, im positive.”

vil shook his head. “right.. i have an errand for you to run.” he holds up a list and places it in epel’s hand. it was folded neatly and pristinely, but crumpled in the first years hand. “hah?”

“rush to octavinelle and pick up the items on the list. jade or azul should meet you there.”

unfolding the paper, different types of makeup and skincare products were listed below. “..don’t they run a restaurant?” epel frowns, raising his brow. “don’t underestimate azul’s desire for sponsorship.” vil notes, rushing the boy away.

walking down the halls, epel found himself spiraling back to the original problem. his brow is furrowed, trying harshly to concentrate and find something that was worthy, truly worthy of you. “..nah that won’t do either! what would gran think if i couldn’t impress ‘em?” he grumbles, looking around the lounge.

floyd looks over one of the booths and grins as he saw epel enter the lounge. “guppy!” he exclaims, startling the poor first year. “gah! floyd!”

“what brings ya to the lounge?” he asks, circling epel like a small piece of prey. brushing imaginary dirt off his blazer, epel sighs with a frown. “actually, i was looking for—”

“jade or azul? they’re plannin in the VIP lounge. this about beta fish’s studs? stuffs right here.” he holds up an elegantly patterned paper bag, purple streaks resembling seaweed and shells printed across. “ah, thank you.”

“you good, guppy? your face is a lot more frowny than usual. seriously, kinda cringe.” floyd shrugs, starting to loose interest. “what?” epel scoffs, shaking his head trying to stay polite. “argh, i mean, yes im fine, thank you.” he nods, gripping the bag tightly.

tilting his head, floyd stares unconvinced. “you suck at lyin. tell me! tell me! tell me!” with his interest piqued once again, floyd starts circling epel once more, giggling and grinning foolishly. “hey! i told ya it’s nothin! leave me alone!” epel tried swatting the eel away, but his efforts result in vain.

“tell me! tell me! tell me or ill squeeze the answer outta ya.” with a sudden shift in tone, from playful to murderous, he throws the first year a deadly glare. epel freezes, biting back his insults.

“fine! it’s [MC]..” he mumbles, looking to the side with embarrassment. “i dont know what to gift them.” he sighs, picking at his chin again. expecting floyd to leave disinterested after getting his answer, epel is taken aback as he heard said eel blow a raspberry instead. “pssshh, that’s easy.”

“..huh?”

“lemme guess, you wanna do somethin over the top or whatever?” he asks, clocking epel. “wh— so what if i did, hah?” epel retorts, looking to floyd with a glare.

“well the answers right under ya nose, silly! tadaaan, cooking!” floyd reveals, smiling with a dopey grin. “cooking?”

“geez do i gotta spell everythin out for ya? just cook em something and they’ll be all over ya. easy as that.” floyd states matter of factly, now looking at epel with disinterest. “this is gettin boring. later.”

and just like that, the large twin disappeared into the kitchen.

epel scratches the back of his neck, beginning to loose himself in thought. he wasn’t familiar with any types of fancy cooking, mostly things like one pot stews at home..

however, his last dish during the culinary crucible was a major success, he’s definitely got this in the bag so long as he puts his mind to it.

and besides, he’s always wanted to take you back to harveston for a second time. a nice home cooked meal? doesn’t that scream married couple?

❥˙∘ ✦

as you entered the dorm, you were hit by the smell of familiar spices and seasonings, thrown in with a hint of crisp fresh apples. smells like harveston, you thought, smiling fondly to yourself.

epel pops out from behind the corner, dressed in a nice apron while holding up a pot of stew. the top was still bubbling, steam clouded his face but not enough to hide his blooming smile. “you’re finally back! take a seat, i made stew!” he leads you to the table. it was decorated, albeit clumsily, but much nicer than how you left it.

“what’s gotten into you?” you laugh, taking a seat across from him. epel sets the pot onto the table, scooping a generous amount into your bowl. the carrots have been chopped in the shape of hearts and apples. “hah? don’t tell me you forgot!” he pouts, acting as if he wasn’t distressed for the last month.

“monthly anniversary? helloo?” he cracks some pepper on the top of your stew before sliding it in front of you. “hmm, so you did remember.” you smiled, seeing as he looked to you with mock offense. “ya think i’d forget or somethin?!” he exclaims, now wondering if he came off wrong this entire time.

“relax, relax, just teasing. this smells great, epel.” you grin, grabbing your spoon, eager to chow down on the goodness before you. “thanks! it’s a recipe meemaw taught me back home. she said i was basically a master at it.” he huffs triumphantly, puffing his chest up with pride.

you take a bite of the piping hot dish. flavors exploded on your tongue, the familiar and warm feeling exactly what you needed after such a long day. “feels like home.” you murmured with a smile, looking at him with a soft look in your eyes.

epel couldn’t help but blush, taking your free hand and squeezing it tightly. “happy anniversary.”

⚡┊SEBEK ZIGVOLT

sebek grumbled angrily as he kicked at the dirt beneath his feet.

he had been tasked with the duty of shoveling the horse dung into a pile. normally, he’d take such tasks with pride! being the one assigned by riddle to take care of such a strenuous and laborious task? why this must be complimenting his strength and stamina. (literally nobody else wants to do the job) ((nobody is more eager than him to do it)).

however, something was off about today.

“sebek, is everything alright? i’ve noticed you’ve been.. quieter than usual.” riddle asks, glancing at the pouting first year. his brow was furrowed and his glare was harsher than usual. anyone with a right mind would back away from such an intimidating figure. sebek shakes his head. “yes, im perfectly fine!”

the reason for sebek’s dismay wasn’t because of poop scooping duty. no, he had not the faintest idea on what to get you for your once-a-month anniversary. it felt like anything he could do has been done already. chocolate? check. cooking? ..ehh. restaurant date? check. he picked every standard date there was possible, but he was afraid nothing was enough to WOW you.

he grimaced as he imagined you growing bored and moving on, leaving him for another. he couldn’t even handle the thought, shaking his head aggressively before slapping his cheeks to snap out of it. silver and riddle jump slightly, unaware of the poor boys internal torment.

“sebek. you’re gonna scare the horses.” silver sighs, brushing the stallions mane. “agreed. not to mention, this behavior doesn’t exactly scream ‘perfectly fine’ to me..” riddle frowns, trying to grab the shovel from sebek’s hand. “might i suggest taking a break to clear your head?”

sebek frowns at the thought, the mere idea of being useless. “i can assure you, everything is alright! your concern is not needed.” he huffs, yanking the shovel back into his hands. continuing to scoop with agitation, riddle felt himself growing more irritated.

if there was anything anyone knew about sebek, if you were a superior he respects, he’ll follow your words to the letter. “sebek. by my order as a housewarden, i demand you to take a walk!” riddle shouts, forcing sebek to freeze. “b-but—”

“did i happen to stutter? housewarden’s orders!”

though they didn’t share a dorm, sebek wouldn’t dare disrespect his upperclassman. reluctantly handing the shovel to riddle, he’s shooed away to take a stroll in the nearby thicket. grumbling words to himself, he leans against a nearby tree and looks up at the sky.

his weakness was showing. he’s gonna be left behind. countless words stirred in his head, brewing and lingering doubts and negative thoughts.. it was beginning to grow overbearing.

gripping the thing closest to him, there was a soft squish before realizing it had stained his hand. “grrk! by the seven..” he grumbled, looking at the mystery plant he had just killed.

“oh dear, that was a hydnellym peckii..” a familiar voice sighed from behind, making sebek jolt. “a-a what?!” he exclaims, turning to see jade leech.

“also known as a devil’s tooth or bleeding tooth mushroom.. fufu it’s quite fascinating.” he chuckles, resting his hand on his chin. “..that is, before you had squished it.”

“bleeding tooth?!” sebek frowns, wiping his hand against the bark. “by no means is it poisonous, just incredibly bitter.” jade notes, picking up the remains of the fungi and placing it into a small plastic baggy.

“never mind that, what brings you to the forest, sebek? are you also out foraging?” the eel asks, smiling in anticipation. “no, i am out here clearing my head!” he exclaims, nodding affirmatively.

jade raises his brow, but chooses not to comment. “i see.. it has been known that you’ve been much quieter lately,” jade notes, thinking aloud. “could it be perhaps something is troubling you? we are always free at the lounge if you require assistance. fufu..”

narrowing his eyes at the vice housewarden, sebek scoffs. “i would rather not get myself involved in your dorms shady deals! my issues are entirely personal!” sebek retorts.

“yes, yes, about [MC]?” jade asked nonchalantly, catching the poor first year off guard. “where in the world did you obtain such information?!” he shouts, hiding the blush on his ears. “fufu, word happens to travel fast is all.”

“argh..” before commenting once more, sebek thinks about it for a second. jade, while shady, has always presented himself as a gentleman. even with his distaste, it is true he may be able to learn a thing or two.

“..you’re correct. if i have permission to ask, what would one gift their partner on a special occasion?” sebek asks, making jade smirk.

“are you willing to pay the price if i were to answer?” he asks, not willing to let a good deal go to waste. “would foraging for your fungi suffice? lilia had trained me to be able to search for plants and resources in the wild on my own.” sebek offers, not wanting to waste time with jade’s banter. pleased with his offer, jade nods.

“my, what a generous offer.”

“natural beauty is all around us. though most flora happen to ward us away, the most dangerous are also the most enchanting,” jade starts, leaning down towards a flower hidden in thorns. he picks it, holding it to the light. “additionally, the language in which nature speaks is endearing in its own right. each plant houses its own meaning, its own definition in a gift.”

“it all belies on how you choose to gift it.” with that, jade slides the flower into a small booklet and gives sebek a nod. “if you are in need of more advice. you may visit me in the lounge. i must take my leave now.”

jade leaves sebek in the forest alone, wading in his own thoughts. gazing down at the grass beneath him, he picks at the small flowers growing down below.

❥˙∘ ✦

“sebek, this is beautiful!” you squeal, holding the extravagant bouquet of flowers in your hand. sebek smiles proudly, blushing from ear to ear. “this flower exclusively grows in briar valley. i can assure you you’ll find nothing of the sort anywhere else.”

the sticks were less like branches and more like thorns, rigid and sharp at the ends. however, blossoming white flowers adorned the bouquet, leaving you breathless as it glowed in the darkness of the nrc halls.

“i love them, thank you sebek.” you smile, pressing a kiss to his cheek. he clears his throat, trying his best to not act shy.

“take this as a token of my gratitude, my eternal love. i will forever be in your debts and will cherish time we will and have spent. most of all,”

he brings you close, holding you in a tight hug.

“happy anniversary, my love.”

A/N: this was supposed to be the white day fic,,,,,,,, honestly i was gonna just scrap but i was halfway done with jacks so i tried salvaging it. sorry if it’s off in some parts. anyway hiii.

date published: 05/05/25

© temiizpalace — do not copy, steal, or put my work into ai. thank you!

[muwapsturniolo]

Third time's the charm 🐰ྀི C. Sturniolo

"let me make it up to you bun."

⟢ nsfw content ahead, smut, overstimulation, fingering, mentions of sex toys, begging,

@bernardsbendystraws FOR DIVIDER

Self-care was something Bunny loved to participate in. Face masks galore, facial steaming, skincare products, as well as body care too. It was the perfect way to relax, especially with her having two days off from ballet.

It was the perfect weekend for it as well. Doll was out of town on a business trip, leaving the girl alone to do whatever she pleased, including self-pleasure.

She had her whole night planned, half of the activities being done. She had washed her hair and diffused it, she had done all her body care after an everything shower, and she put on the new pajamas she had gotten last week.

She felt good.

She was currently in the kitchen looking for a small snack to eat before she went to her room and started to have fun by herself. Just as she had popped a grape into her mouth, the doorbell had rung. With furrowed brows, she makes her way over, the pink bunny slippers shuffling across the hardwood flooring.

The door opens just a tiny bit, enough for her to see Chris on the other side.

"Chris? What are you doing here?"

He licks his lips as she opens the door wider, her pink lacey pajamas that weren't supposed to be sexual in any way, coming into view. The flowy top hugged her chest perfectly, pressing her boobs together and showing just enough skin. The pajama shorts, if you could call them that, were super short and tight, the material hugging her plump thighs just right. He could only imagine how the cusps of her ass looked.

"You said Doll was out of town, figured I'd keep you company for the night. You gonna let me in?" She smiles softly and does as asked, letting him into the warm home and closing the door. He follows her back into the kitchen, watching as she stands at the counter and continues munching on her grapes.

"Did you bring clothes?" She asks him softly, covering her mouth like she always does when eating. "Nah, figured since you like to steal my clothes, I have something here." He walks up behind her and grabs her waist, kissing her shoulder softly. She turns around and holds up a grape, offering it to him. She pops it in his mouth before pulling away from him.

"You can go change in my room. I have some of your hoodies and a pair of your sweats in my closet." Chris hums and pecks her lips before walking out of the kitchen and making his way to her room. He sighs as he enters the comfortable space, the smell of sugar cookies and vanilla infiltrating his senses. He walks past her bed and towards her closet, catching something in the corner of his eye.

He turns his head, his eyes widening when he sees the objects on the bed.

A baby pink rose toy, as well as lube and a dildo.

He approaches the bed, grabbing the pink phallus and examining it. It was pretty big, similar to his dick size that stands at 7 inches. It looked like it was made of jelly, a few veins running up along the side.

He smirks as he grabs the lube and throws it into her nightstand along with the dildo, hiding the rose toy under one of her many pillows.

The night continues, the couple ending up in her bedroom, lying down and watching a movie. He was shocked she didn't react to her toys being gone from her bed, but he figured she was distracted. It was no secret that Bunny was completely infatuated with Chris. When he was around, it seemed as if the girl's brain shut off and only focused on him.

Chris was currently sitting with his back against the headboard, Bunny lying between his legs with her eyes trained on the TV. He begins to kiss her shoulder, trailing soft kisses up to her neck before nipping softly. She tries to turn around, but Chris keeps her in place, one of his hands settling on her thigh.

"Did you have any other plans for tonight?" He murmurs in her ear, his breath hot and causing goosebumps to rise along her arms.

"Mmm, no." Chris smirks at her answer, his hands starting to rub at her thighs.

"I think you're lying Bun."

"No I'm no- Really? Because the dildo and vibrator that were on your bed said otherwise." He chuckles feeling her whole body tense, the embarrassment settling in. She tries to turn her body once more, Chris still holding her in place.

"I-I didn't know you were com- Shhhh it's ok Bun. I should be the one apologizing for ruining your night." He begins to snake his right hand into her shorts.

"Let me make it up to you Bun."

She gasps softly as a singular finger swipes through her folds, gathering her juices before circlining her clit. Her whole body relaxes into Chris's touch, his fingers drawing lazy figure eights on her sensitive bundle of nerves. He continues to plant open-mouth kisses along her neck, whispering sweet and dirty words into her ear.

As she opens her legs wider, giving him more room, he trails his left hand up from her thigh to her chest, groping her breast softly. He tweaks at her nipple through the lacey material of her pajama top, enjoying the way she mewls out and arches her back.

He speeds up his ministrations, the lewd and crude sloshing sound of her juices getting louder as well as her moans.

"Come on baby, know you're close."

He focuses on the way her toes curl, her breath hitching and her back arching as she comes closer and closer to her high. She was teetering on the edge of release, but she needed more.

"M-more, please!" She breathes out, her needy pleas making Chris hum.

"You can do it, be a good girl for me Bun."

She begins to grind against his hand, each movement of her hips matching up with his quick swipes over her clit. It seems like that was just enough for her to reach euphoria, her eyes rolling back as she crumbles into his touch.

But Chris wasn't done.

He grabs her jaw and angles her head back, his lips finding hers in a greedy and sloppy kiss. The two of them work together through the kiss to get her shorts off, throwing the pink material somewhere in the room.

As she remains distracted, Chris reaches underneath the pillow to the side of him and grabs the rose toy. The girl yanks away from the kiss just as the device makes contact with her clit, her hips jerking at the overstimulation.

"F-fuck - Language Bunny." Chris presses the toy harder against her clit, enjoying the way she clenches her eyes shut and her thighs quiver. She was still sensitive from her previous orgasm, her juices leaking onto the white sheets - It was too much.

"Chris, pl-please!" She grabs at his wrist, her nails digging into his skin as she tries to breath. He turns the vibrator up one setting, smiling sadistically as she throws her head back and lets out a mix of a moan and a sob. Chris wraps his left hand around her throat, squeezing gently.

"You can handle it," she breathes heavily, sniffling as she tries to stop her body from seizing up. Despite the overstimulation, her hole was aching, clenching as it begged to be filled and stretched out.

"P-please I- nghh- need you!"

"Aww, my little Bunny needs me? I thought this was too much?" He chuckles as her eyes roll back once more, her moans getting louder and louder every second.

"Give me one more and I'll give you what you want. Be a good girl."

It doesn't take that much time for her to reach that peak, her juices splashing all over Chris's hand and her bed. She heaves and pants harshly as Chris pulls the vibrator away, throwing it somewhere along the bed as he moves from behind her.

He settles between her legs, looking down at her dripping cunt. His eyes drift back up to her face, her dazed eyes meeting his. He pulls his sweats down along with his boxers, his aching cock slapping is abdomen. She whimpers seeing his large member, eager to be filled, yet scared about how sensitive she is.

He lines himself up, swiping his tip through her folds and watching the way she flitches as he nudges her clit. In one swift movement, he slips inside of her, the air being knocked out of her lungs. He pushes her legs to her chest, setting a brutal and fast pace.

Tears were rushing down her face, her breathing erratic as she tried to slow him down, but he wasn't letting up.

Her body was on fire, she could feel everything yet nothing all at once. Incoherent babbles were tumbling from her mouth, and all Chris could do was coo at her.

He eventually does slow down, opting for long and harsh thrusts. She could feel every single ridge of his dick, his mushroom tip dragging along her aching and abused walls.

"C-can't ta - Yes you can." Chris urges, now using his thumb to swipe at her clit.

"Come on Bun, can feel you clamping down on me. Make a mess."

At his firm and encouraging words, her back arches as her legs spasm, her juices seeping out in large amounts.

Chris's own high follows soon after, the milky white liquid coating her walls and her puffy lips. She lies upon the bed looking like a full-on mess. Her thighs were completely soaked, a thin layer of sweat covering her body. Her hair was frizzy, the tight curls looking as if they were brushed out.

He attempts to clean up their mess, going to wipe between her legs, only to stop when she snaps them shut and whines. Thinking quickly, he goes to her bathroom and runs them a bath.

Soon enough, the two are in the tub, Chris holding her as she lies half asleep in the hot water.

"You relaxed now Bun?"

She hums sleepily, still completly spent and fucked out from Chris's so called apology. He chuckles softly and begins to lather her body in soap, mumbling sweet and soft words as she falls into a deeper sleep.

[platonicaxaxe]

Deathtrap & Bob ³

Bob Reynolds (sentry) x Ex Assassin Reader

Context: Bullied Boyfriend Bob?

1-2-3The Bob(sentry) Masterlist here

(Can't find any cute Bob gifs🥺)

---

The streets of New York were alive with their usual chaos—honking cars, fast-talking pedestrians, and street performers blaring music on every corner. Bob and Y/N walked side by side, not quite hand-in-hand, but close enough that their shoulders brushed every few steps.

Bob nervously glanced around, occasionally stealing a glance at Y/N when she wasn’t looking. She looked effortlessly cool, even blending in like a regular citizen—nothing like the Red Room legend known as Deathtrap.

He was so distracted, he didn’t see the broad-shouldered, tattoo-covered man in front of him.

BUMP.

Bob staggered a step back. “O-oh—sorry! I didn’t—uh, I didn’t mean to—!”

The man gave a glare, towering over him, but before he could say a word, Y/N had already grabbed Bob’s arm and tugged him away, weaving through the foot traffic like a pro.

“Don’t make eye contact with walking temper tantrums,” she muttered.

“S-sorry,” Bob mumbled, still flustered as they ducked into a small, cozy café.

They took a moment to relax—Y/N sipping something warm while Bob distracted himself with a cookie he didn’t even order.

When they stepped back out, Y/N suddenly stopped in her tracks near an alleyway.

“Oh shoot—I forgot to get that cookie I was supposed to take home,” she said. “Stay here, I’ll be right back.”

Bob nodded, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Y-yeah, sure. I’ll just, uh… stand here. Not get into trouble.”

He smiled awkwardly.

Y/N jogged off.

Seconds later, trouble found him.

Two large men stepped out of the alleyway and blocked his path. One of them was the same tattooed guy from earlier.

“Well look who we got here,” the man sneered. “Little pretty boy.”

Bob stiffened. “I-I’m not lookin’ for trouble, guys—”

One of them shoved him lightly. “Look at this hair. You some kind of washed-up superhero?”

“W-what? No, I—well, I mean—kinda—” Bob stammered, backing up as the two closed in.

“Guy like you doesn’t belong around here. And that chick you were with? Bet she’s just babysitting.”

“Hey!” Bob’s expression changed. Something in him snapped. “Don’t talk about her like that—!”

He tried to swing, but the man caught his fist mid-air and sent him sprawling with one punch.

Bob groaned, trying to blink through the dizziness as his eyes started to glow gold. His pulse quickened. He could feel the Sentry clawing at the edge of his mind.

But then—

CRACK.

A boot to the face sent one of the men stumbling into trash cans.

Y/N had returned.

Silent fury burned in her eyes. She moved like lightning—dodging, striking, flipping one of them onto the pavement with brutal precision. The second guy barely had time to lift his fists before she took him down with a devastating roundhouse.

Bloodied and groaning, one of them hissed, “Who even is he to you?!”

Y/N didn’t hesitate.

“Boyfriend.”

Then she landed the final punch—swift, sharp, and unforgiving.

Bob blinked, wide-eyed and stunned, still sitting on the pavement.

“Y-you… y-you called me—boyfriend,” he stuttered, cheeks blooming red.

Y/N reached down to help him up. “Well, you are, aren’t you?”

Bob nodded way too fast. “Y-yeah! I mean—I’d like to be! I-I am. I… guess I am.”

She smirked, brushing a bit of dirt off his jacket. “Let’s get out of here, Mr. Sentry.”

He looked at her like she’d just saved the world. “T-thanks for not letting me go full nuclear rage mode back there.”

“You’re welcome,” she grinned. “But next time—aim for the kneecaps.”

Bob made a mental note. “R-right. Kneecaps.”

A few days after the alleyway incident, YN texted Bob with a simple message:

“Wanna go for a ride? I’ve got something to show you.”

Of course he said yes—he always did when it came to her.

The sun was beginning to dip into the horizon when they hit the road, the city gradually fading behind them. Trees soon replaced buildings, and the rush of traffic melted into the soothing hum of cicadas and the low growl of YN’s motorcycle. Bob held onto her gently, a soft smile on his face, wind ruffling his hair.

Eventually, they pulled into a gravel driveway, tucked behind a patch of dense woods.

A small cabin stood at the edge of a clearing—quiet, simple, with ivy crawling along the wooden walls and a narrow porch holding an old rocking chair.

Bob’s eyes widened.

“W-whoa… is this… where you live?” he asked, stepping off the bike.

YN nodded, pulling off her helmet. “This is my hideout. No phones. No cameras. No trackers. Just… peace.”

Bob took it all in with a soft breath. “It’s beautiful.”

“I don’t bring people here, Bob,” she said seriously. “You’re the first.”

He looked at her, heart skipping. “R-really?”

She just smiled and opened the door.

Inside, the cabin was small but warm—bookshelves packed with paperbacks, a tiny fireplace, a couch with hand-stitched blankets, and a makeshift kitchen that smelled faintly of herbs and tea.

They spent the evening on the porch, sharing takeout and stargazing, wrapped in a big, old comforter YN had pulled from the couch.

Bob couldn’t stop glancing at her.

“What?” she asked, nudging him playfully with her shoulder.

“I dunno,” he mumbled, cheeks tinted pink. “I just… I feel lucky. Like, crazy lucky.”

She leaned her head against his shoulder. “You're not just lucky, Bob. You earned this. You listen. You care. And you never asked me to be anything other than what I am.”

Bob let out a breath, his hand gently brushing against hers before intertwining.

He looked up at the stars. “Can I… c-cuddle you? Or is that too weird to ask?”

YN chuckled and leaned fully into him, tugging the blanket tighter around them both.

“You already are, silly.”

He let out a tiny laugh and rested his head on hers, feeling more grounded than he had in years.

In the soft quiet of the night, with crickets singing and the stars blinking above, Bob whispered:

“Thank you for bringing me here.”

And YN, eyes fluttering closed, replied softly:

“Welcome home.”

Thunderbolts Headquarters – 9:37 AM

“Okay, don’t freak out…” Yelena said, walking into the room holding a cup of coffee.

“What?!” Ava said immediately, already half-freaking out.

“Bob didn’t check in last night,” Yelena admitted.

John Walker nearly dropped his protein shake. “He what?! You mean like—missing?”

Alexei gasped dramatically. “The boy has been taken! I knew this would happen. He is too soft. Like marshmallow!”

Bucky raised an eyebrow. “Maybe he’s just on a walk. I told him to do that.”

“For twelve hours?” Ava quipped, pulling up Bob’s last pinged location on a map. “He vanished off the grid halfway through Brooklyn. That’s not a walk, Barnes. That’s a ‘he’s tied up in a basement somewhere’ walk.”

Alexei paced. “We need to assemble. Call in satellites. Call in drones. Call in—”

“He’s probably just with Y/N,” Yelena interrupted coolly, sipping her coffee.

The entire room went silent.

“With Deathtrap?!” John screeched. “You mean the lady who disappears like smoke, punches like a tank, and eats ghost protocols for breakfast?! That Deathtrap?!”

“Yes,” Yelena said, completely unbothered.

Bucky stood up. “Well, if he is with her… I mean, that’s good, right? She’s capable.”

“She also doesn’t do visitors,” Ava said. “If Bob’s with her, we’re not finding him. Even S.H.I.E.L.D. couldn’t track that woman.”

“Then what do we do?” John asked.

Alexei pointed to the ceiling. “We wait. And we pray to the gods of love and luck that he comes back… with all his limbs.”

—

Meanwhile… in a cozy cabin miles outside the city…

Bob sneezed.

“You okay?” Y/N asked, poking her head in from the kitchen.

“I-I think someone’s talking about me,” he chuckled.

Back at HQ, Yelena checked her phone. “I’m giving him until tonight. If he doesn’t come back, then we send in a search party.”

“Great. I’ll prep the ‘Missing Bob’ posters,” Ava said dryly.

“They should say ‘Reward: One Cookie and a Hug,’” Bucky added with a smirk.

John nodded. “And a warning label: ‘Do not approach if he's in Sentry Mode. Approach only with snacks.’”

Alexei dramatically put a hand on his heart. “If he returns to us… I shall give him my strongest bear hug. He has survived the deadliest assassin and love. The man is a hero.”

Outside Thunderbolts HQ – 10:46 AM

Alexei was fully geared up, wearing his Red Guardian suit with a fanny pack. He gripped the car keys like a man ready for war. “I will drive through every inch of New York. I will not rest until the boy is safe. If we need to kick down doors, we kick down doors.”

Just as he reached the car—

VROOOM.

A sleek motorcycle pulled up, kicking dust and gravel. Y/N hopped off effortlessly, helmet under one arm, cool as always. Bob clumsily climbed off behind her, legs wobbly from the ride, cheeks tomato red.

"You're good?" she asked him, brushing a hand down his arm.

“Y-yeah,” he nodded, totally dazed. “T-thank you… for everything. Especially… the cookie…”

She chuckled, then leaned in, pressing a quick kiss on his cheek—close enough to his lips that Bob nearly melted into a puddle.

Alexei froze mid-step.

PLOP. The car keys fell from his hand.

Without another word, Y/N revved her bike and zoomed off into the streets.

Bob stood there, blinking, goofy smile stretching across his face.

Alexei blinked, then grinned. “Well well well.” and Bob got startled.

Inside HQ – Moments Later

The HQ doors swung open with dramatic flair as Alexei strutted in like he just saved the world. Bob followed, awkwardly hunched, tugging at the sleeves of his hoodie, eyes glued to the floor.

“Found him,” Alexei announced triumphantly.

Everyone in the room turned at once.

“Thank God!” Yelena gasped. “Where the hell were you, Bob?! We were about to storm a warehouse!”

John Walker leaned on a chair. “Was he in a safehouse? Dungeon? Dimensional rift?”

“Deathtrap dropped him off,” Alexei said with a smug smirk, “with a smooch, to be exact.”

Bob audibly choked on air.

Ava raised her brow. “A smooch, huh?”

Bucky leaned forward. “Bob, is that true?”

Bob flushed deep red and muttered, “I-I mean… it was just… like a ‘thank you’ thing… I-I didn’t know anyone saw…”

“She kissed him!” Alexei sang. “And he blushed like a schoolboy!”

“Oh my god,” Yelena laughed, grabbing a throw pillow and tossing it at Bob. “You’re so done.”

John cracked up. “And here I thought I had the worst public crush moment. You’ve topped it, buddy.”

Bob just shrank further into his hoodie. “I-it’s not a big deal…”

Bucky clapped a hand on his shoulder. “It is if she’s Deathtrap. You’re either in love… or in danger.”

Alexei beamed. “Or both! The best kind!”

As Bob covered his face in his hands, mumbling unintelligible excuses, the rest of the team burst into another round of chaotic laughter.

Thunderbolts HQ – Afternoon

The team had settled into a surprisingly peaceful moment after the morning's chaos. The place was buzzing with their usual dynamic—Ava messing with tech, Bucky cleaning his arm while muttering about “things he didn’t need,” John Walker pacing back and forth with a cup of coffee, and Alexei lounging casually on one of the chairs, looking way too comfortable.

Bob, still red-faced from his earlier embarrassment, was sitting at the table, fiddling with a coffee cup, desperately trying to act normal. Every time someone looked at him, he’d stiffen and look away. Great, he thought. The worst day of my life.

“So, Bob,” Yelena began, leaning casually against the wall, “have you finally figured out how to get her to join the team?”

Bob flinched. “I-I didn’t—! It’s not like that. I—She’s, uh... she’s just... different.” He looked down at his coffee cup. "She's not... like any of you."

Alexei snickered from across the room. “Not like us? Oh, I beg to differ.” He leaned in theatrically. “Remember that sweet kiss she gave you, Bobby?” He fluttered his eyes and dramatically leaned toward Bob, mimicking a kiss, “Mmm… thank you, Bob... for being such a good listener.”

Bob’s eyes widened, and his face turned a deeper shade of red than before. “N-no! Stop! It wasn’t like that! I was just... she—”

“Oh no, it was definitely like that,” Alexei interrupted, standing up, hands on his hips. “The sweet, innocent kiss... on the cheek... at the hilltop... mmm... so romantic, so tender,” he mimicked, leaning forward and puckering his lips at the air, “Sooooo, Bob, I really enjoyed our time together...” He exaggerated the movements, making kissy faces in the most obnoxious way possible.

The rest of the team, already trying to hold in their laughs, burst into giggles as they watched Bob squirm, his face practically glowing.

“Alexei!” Bob squeaked, mortified. “Please! I swear, it wasn’t like that! I-I didn’t even mean to—"

“Oh, you didn’t mean to?” Alexei raised an eyebrow, stepping closer to Bob and leaning down. “Then what was that thing you did when you held her waist like that? Were you preparing for some kind of fight, or were you really trying not to fall off the bike?” He smirked. “Don’t worry, Bobby. We saw you hugging her like it was the end of the world. She was all... cool and collected, and you... well, you were all... shaky, like a leaf in the wind.”

“Yeah,” John Walker added, grinning, “I saw that too. You looked like you were trying to survive the ride of your life.” He leaned in with mock seriousness. “But she didn’t let you fall. How... sweet.”

Bob threw his hands up in frustration. “Guys, I was just trying to balance! I’m not good with—people! Okay?! She’s just...” He paused, looking at the floor. “She’s different. And I didn’t think... I didn’t think anyone would notice.”

Bucky couldn’t help but smile at Bob’s discomfort. “Hey, don’t feel too bad. You’re not the first guy to get all flustered around her. I mean, come on. You’re in a team full of chaos. Of course we notice.”

Bob sighed, hiding his face behind his hands. “I didn’t... think this was gonna happen. This isn’t like—this isn’t how it was supposed to go, okay? I thought I’d be able to... I don’t know... keep my cool or something.”

“Keep your cool?” Alexei grinned, leaning in again, clearly enjoying every moment of Bob’s misery. “Bobby, it’s okay. We all know how this ends.”

“We do?” Bob said through his fingers, still mortified.

“Yeah,” Alexei said, his voice turning dramatically serious. “You’re gonna get a surprise visit one day. You’ll knock on her door all shy, you’ll stand there, heart pounding like a jackhammer. And then she’ll open the door, and what will you do?” He stepped closer to Bob, his arms outstretched like he was preparing for the worst love confession of all time. “You’ll stutter, just like you always do. And then you’ll say, ‘H-hi, Y/N... I—uh—I wanted to, you know... tell you... that I—I...’ And she’ll interrupt you with a perfect kiss and a perfect smile and all of a sudden, you’re her guy, Bobby.”

“Wait,” John said, tilting his head. “You’re not telling us Bob’s actually planning on telling her about this, are you?”

Bob shook his head quickly, panicking. “W-what? No! I wasn’t! I mean—maybe... but... no! I’m just trying to figure out how to talk to her, okay?”(he already confessed👀)

Alexei grinned. “That’s what I’m talking about! You’re already on the way, Bobby. You can’t avoid it now.”

“Maybe we should all just plan a nice dinner,” Bucky suggested, crossing his arms. “You know, set up a nice place. Play some music. Just to get things awkward enough for Bob to say something.”

“Not helping, Bucky,” Bob muttered under his breath.

“Come on, Bob. You’ve been acting like a schoolboy in love,” Yelena said, casually sipping her drink from the other side of the room. “You were shaking when she kissed you, remember?”

“Ugh! Stop!” Bob buried his face in his hands, completely overwhelmed by the teasing. “I swear, I didn’t mean for any of this to happen!”

Alexei slapped him on the back, making Bob lurch forward. “You’ll figure it out, my friend. Love’s like punching a wall—you just have to go for it.” He winked at Bob. “But be careful. Deathtrap’s kisses... they’re dangerous.”

Bob groaned, hiding his face in his arms. “This is a nightmare…”

It was early evening at the Thunderbolts HQ, and Bob was in his room, humming softly to himself as he folded the last item into his small blue backpack—his favorite fuzzy blankey. The soft fabric, dotted with faded stars and moons, looked comically juvenile against the sterile metal walls of the compound, but to Bob, it was a source of comfort… especially when he was going to Y/N’s.

He carefully zipped up the bag, triple-checking that he’d packed his toothbrush, a fresh shirt, and—most importantly—a box of instant cocoa packets, because Y/N’s cabin always had that magical quiet that made warm drinks taste better.

Just as he was about to sling the backpack over his shoulder, a loud knock on his door made him jump like he’d heard a gunshot.

“Woah, woah, loverboy,” Alexei's booming voice rang as the door creaked open. He stood there with his arms crossed, one brow cocked and an amused grin playing on his face. “Packing for a date night or your first school camping trip?”

Bob’s face flushed deep red as he fumbled to pull his backpack straps into place. “I-It’s just—uh—I’m just spending the night at Y/N’s,” he stammered, eyes darting anywhere but at Alexei. “I’ve been... having good sleeps there.”

Alexei gasped dramatically, placing a hand over his chest like Bob had just stabbed him through the heart. “You telling me,” he said with mock devastation, “that you’re not comfortable in the room I lovingly set up for you? With the memory foam mattress and the glow-in-the-dark ceiling stars?”

“N-no! I-I mean—it’s not that—I am comfortable here! It’s just...” Bob trailed off, nervously wringing his hands.

Alexei’s face broke into a chuckle as he clapped a massive hand on Bob’s shoulder, nearly knocking the poor guy forward. “Relax, boy. I’m just messin’ with you. Go enjoy yourself.” His voice softened for just a beat. “If she makes you feel safe—makes you sleep better—then cherish her. And if you love her...” he paused, “don’t be stupid. Let her know.”

Bob blinked, looking up at him with those wide, unsure eyes. He gave a tiny nod.

Just then—PEEP!—a familiar sharp motorcycle horn echoed from outside the compound.

Alexei’s head jerked toward the window and grinned. “Your girlfriend’s here,” he said, smirking like a proud uncle sending his nephew to prom.

“Let’s goooooo,” came Yelena’s voice from the hallway.

As Bob shyly followed Alexei out of his room, his blue backpack bouncing lightly with every nervous step, he was greeted by the entire team gathered just outside the main entrance—like nosy parents watching their kid head off for their first sleepover.

There she was. Y/N, seated on her motorcycle like she owned the entire block, her helmet resting on her lap as she leaned back casually, waiting.

Bob swallowed hard.

“Protect our boy, Y/N!” Alexei called out dramatically, wiping invisible tears from his eyes with the edge of his sleeve. “He’s sensitive. He folds his socks.”

Bob winced.

“Don’t worry, I got him,” Y/N called back with a slight smirk, revving the bike just enough to make Bob jump.

“Use protection!” John Walker shouted with a snort.

Yelena immediately smacked him in the arm. “Oh my god, Walker. He’s taking his blankey, not booking a honeymoon suite!”

Bob turned scarlet.

Y/N, clearly amused, patted the seat behind her. “C’mon, blue backpack. Let’s go before they start planning our wedding.”

Bob offered a stiff, flustered wave to the team, then carefully climbed onto the bike, hugging his bag against his chest for a second before strapping in.

As they pulled away, Alexei stood with a hand raised in mock farewell. “There he goes... our sweet awkward prince… off to cuddle town.”

[vrystalius]

A guide on how to make Squid Game men whimper. pt.1

What makes them whimper and whine? Here you have a guide/tutorial on how to do so!

Pairing: Thanos, Nam-gyu, Dae-ho x fem!dom!reader

Summary: Next to their name will be a small list of things that can make them whimper for you. They all are the subs.

Genre: nsfw

Note: These are just teasers for a future part I will maybe write, not sure yet XD This is basically a prologue.

Thanos // Su-bong // Player 240

In a future part: Leash (on Thanos), thigh fucking, orgasm denial, edging, dry grinding, brat taming, punishments, fleshlight, bratty sub!Thanos

”Su-bong, what’s this?” As you searched through the drawers in your boyfriend’s room, trying to find a pair of socks that is not mismatched for you to wear. After coming across multiple crusty socks and not a single pair of clean socks, you came across… that thing.

Thanos stuck his head into the doorframe, checking on what you found. His whole face flushed into the brightest shade of pink. “Hey!!— don‘t touch that!”, he yelled as he was snatching the fleshlight out of your hands and hid in it the pocket of his oversized hoodie. You couldn‘t help but giggle at the sight of him being so incredibly flustered at your find. “What? Are you embarrassed?“

He lifted his head and stared at you for a moment. “Me? Nah. I‘m cool. Don’t take that. It‘s my… thingy.“ His blush didn‘t falter at all, especially not because of how you couldn‘t contain your amusement.

“Awww, you are embarrassed. That’s so cute!” You reached out to pull on his pink cheeks but Thanos quickly swatted your hand away in protest and moved past you to try and hide his toy back inside the drawer. You stopped him by grabbing his wrist. “What do you even need that for when you have me?“

Your boyfriend sc slightly and scanned your body for a moment. “What? Am not allowed to cum on my own now that I have a girlfriend now?”

A smirk started to grow on your face.

—

To be continued.

Nam-gyu // Player 124

In a future part: Semi-public, car sex, oral (male receiving), drunk sex?, hair pulling, getting caught, whiny sub!Nam-gyu

“I wasn’t even that drunk… That ass kicked me out for nothing. Nothing!” Nam-gyu complained in a slurred tone, leaning heavily against your car and resting his head against the cold metal and letting his cheek get squished. His eyes were closed as he kept fixing his belt and ripped jeans.

You stood there watched him, crossing your arms as he kept trying to open the door, not realising he’s completely blocking it. Gently, you hooked your arm into his and slowly pushed him aside, careful not to trip him, and opening the car door. A small “Thanks” escaped his lips as he let himself fall into the backseat of your car.

“You’re very drunk.” You kicked his feet to push them into the car. He let out a whine of complaint. “Fuck you. You’re supposed to be on my side. You’re my giiiirrrrl…” Rolling over, Nam-gyu weakly sat upright against the cushions and slouched over. His hand rested on top of his crotch and you couldn’t help but notice a rather obvious tent right where his hand was resting.

“Are those your jeans that are tenting or is that you showing that you’re happy to see me?” Nam-gyu glanced down at where his hand was resting before looking back up at you with a small smirk.

“What do you think?”

—

To be continued.

Dae-ho // Player 388

In a future part: Pegging, strap-on, lots of praising, overstimulation, slight dacryphilia, whimpering, hair pulling, safe-word mentioned but not used, aftercare, first time sub!Dae-ho

“W-We should probably agree on a safe-word before anything bad happens.” Dae-ho was obviously nervous, you could tell. His posture was stiff and upright as he watched you prepare everything that you two will be using tonight. Regret was starting to catch up with him as he caught a glimpse of the toy you bought, just for this occasion.

“Sure, yeah. How about ‘Squid’?” You turned towards him for a moment, giving him a small smile. “You can still back out if you want, it’s totally up to you. This is supposed to be fun for the both of us.”

Your boyfriend’s face softened up a little as your words seemingly soothed him slightly. “Nah, it’ll be fine.” He took a deep breath and nodded, trying to reassure himself. Despite the nervousness, you could tell there was a certain amount of excitement behind those big eyes.

“Squid it is.”

—

To be continued.

💠

Author’s note. Thank you for reading!

I made this back in February during my concussion and pain meds induced haze so apologies for anything weird mentioned there lmao. I’m not sure if I’m ever going to make the pt.2 to it with the full blown smut, I’m still a little too shy for that I think :,)

I’m hosting a small milestone event over here. Check it out! <3

Make sure to EAT, SLEEP and DRINK enough!!

Take care of yourselves <33

[angelsuecult]

gold dust woman | s. crosby

Pt. 2

"heartless challenge

pick your path and i'll pray"

warnings: explicit sexual content, MDNI, 18+, nsfw, strong language, controversial age gap, father's friend, infidelity.

summary: Two weeks after your encounter with Sidney, he is finally able to give you what you wanted that night.

word count: 10.1k

song: gold dust woman - fleetwood mac

a/n: im going to assume you guys just wanted sidcros porn so i just put as much of it as i could, enjoy and let me know what you think!

Part 1 | Part 2

—

It had been two weeks since Sidney had seen you last, two long, agonizing weeks filled with nothing but thoughts of you. Every night, he found himself staring at his phone, scrolling through your social media, looking at pictures of you—ones you’d posted months ago, pictures with your friends, or even a few random ones of you smiling, laughing, or just looking effortlessly beautiful. And even though he didn’t have any social media accounts of his own, that didn’t stop him from searching. He’d found himself palming himself off to the thought of you more times than he’d like to admit, his mind consumed with everything that had happened between you two in his car. The way you’d kissed him, the way you tasted, how soft, pliable you felt under his hands—it was all he could think about.

The summertime wasn’t easy now. With the season over, he had so much free time, and all of it was spent thinking about you. He’d tried to stay busy, working out, hanging with friends, doing anything to distract himself, but nothing worked. Everything came back to you, and the memory of that night kept replaying in his head like a broken record. He needed more, and it felt like he’d never get it.

Now, here he was again, back at your dad’s house, sitting with him and a couple of old friends, watching a baseball game. It was supposed to be a fun, casual afternoon, but Sidney couldn’t shake the feeling of anticipation buzzing under his skin. You were in the house, just a few rooms away, and he could already feel the effect of your presence on him, even if you weren’t sitting with them.

To Sidney’s left, Cooper—one of your dad's oldest friends—reached for the bowl of peanuts and grunted. “Where’re the kids tonight?”

Your dad leaned back, cracked open another beer, and let out a long breath. “The boys are out with my wife. Took them over to that new batting cage downtown. Y/n’s here somewhere.”

Sidney’s chest tightened at the casual mention of you. 

Cooper popped a peanut into his mouth and chewed noisily. “Yeah? How’s that boyfriend of hers? Kid’s a riot.”

That got a round of snorts from the other guys in the room. Another voice chimed in from across the coffee table, Doug maybe—Sid wasn’t really listening, not when your name and boyfriend were in the same sentence.

“Last time I saw him,” Doug said, “he spent ten minutes talking about his protein powder regimen. Swear to God, thought the kid was gonna ask me to spot him right there in the living room.”

The men laughed, low and rough, the sound filling the space. Your dad shook his head, a half-smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah, he’s somethin’, all right. Showed up to family dinner last month wearing loafers with no socks. Said it was ‘European.’”

Another round of laughter. Sidney stayed quiet, but a slow, smug little curl started at the corner of his mouth. He kept his eyes on the TV, but his ears? Locked in.

Cooper grunted again. “A riot, I tell ya. Real character. Got opinions on everything, doesn’t he?”

Your dad took a swig of his beer, then let out a laugh that sounded more tired than amused. “Oh, you have no idea. Kid’s got a new scheme every week. Last week, he wanted Y/n to go in on some crypto thing with him. Said they could ‘build an empire.’” He made air quotes with his fingers and shook his head.

Sidney’s jaw tensed, but not out of jealousy. No. If anything, it fed that growing satisfaction in his chest. No one here was singing the boyfriend’s praises. Not your dad, not his buddies—and he already knew how you felt about him.

Doug chuckled darkly. “Bet Y/n’s thrilled about that.”

Your dad snorted. “She says he means well. But I can tell. She’s over half his shit already.”

Sidney’s fingers drummed against his thigh, slow and steady, like he was keeping time with the game. But really, it was because he was riding the little surge of victory swelling in his chest. He didn’t say a word. Didn’t need to. Because every jab and joke the guys made about your boyfriend was another tally in Sidney’s column.

And God, wasn’t that just sweet?

The game was dragging, or maybe it just felt that way because Sidney’s mind was elsewhere. He couldn’t focus on the TV, couldn’t engage in the conversation around him. His mind was too preoccupied with you, and it didn’t help that every time he thought of you, his body reacted. He shifted in his seat, trying to get comfortable, but there was a persistent ache, a need that wouldn’t go away.

When the need to use the bathroom finally gave him an excuse to leave the room, he stood, making his way down the hallway toward the bathroom near your bedroom. His heart was already beating a little faster, the anticipation of possibly seeing you making his pulse quicken. He didn’t know if you’d come out, didn’t know if you even knew he was here, but the thought of being close to you again, even for a second, was enough to send a thrill of excitement through him.

Sidney stepped into the bathroom, closing the door behind him, and let out a slow breath as he splashed some water on his face. He looked at himself in the mirror, trying to clear his head, trying to calm the heat that had been building inside him since he walked into your house. But it was no use. The moment he stepped out of the bathroom, there you were, leaving your bedroom at the exact same time.

You were dressed in some sweats and a little cropped t-shirt, looking effortlessly perfect, and the sight of you knocked the breath right out of him. He froze for a moment, his hand still on the bathroom door as he took you in, his eyes roaming over your body, his mind already racing with thoughts he knew he shouldn’t be having.

You met his gaze, and for a moment, the world seemed to stop. There was a tension between you, a pull, and before Sidney knew it, he was reaching out, his hand wrapping around your wrist, tugging you into the bathroom with him.

The door clicked shut behind you, and the second you were alone, it was like the floodgates opened. Sidney’s lips crashed against yours, his hands cupping your face as he kissed you with all the pent-up need he’d been holding onto for the past two weeks. It was desperate, frantic, and he couldn’t get enough. You tasted just as sweet as he remembered, and the soft sound you made against his lips had him groaning low in his throat, pulling you closer until there wasn’t an inch of space left between you.

His hands found your waist, pulling you flush against him as he backed you up against the sink, the cool porcelain biting into your lower back as your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer.

“Fuck,” Sidney muttered against your lips, his hands roaming over your sides, slipping beneath your cropped t-shirt to feel the warm skin beneath. You moaned softly into his mouth, and that sound—the one that had been haunting him for weeks—made his head spin.

Your hips pressed against his, grinding against the growing hardness in his jeans, and Sidney let out a low groan, his fingers digging into your waist as he moved against you, the friction sending a jolt of pleasure through his body.

“Missed you,” he breathed, his lips moving to your neck, kissing a trail of fire down your throat. “You drive me fucking crazy.”

You let out a breathless laugh, your hands gripping his shoulders as you pulled him closer, your lips brushing against his ear. “You think I haven’t been thinking about you?”

Sidney groaned, his teeth grazing your skin as he kissed you again, his hands slipping lower to cup your ass, lifting you slightly onto the edge of the sink as he pressed himself between your legs. Your hips rocked against him, your breath coming in shallow gasps as you ground against him, the heat between you growing with each passing second.

You let out a soft whimper, your hips moving in sync with his, the heat between you growing unbearable. His hands roamed your body, sliding down to your ass, squeezing, pulling you tighter against him as you both moved together in a slow, intoxicating rhythm.

“Sid,” you breathed, your voice full of need, your head tilting back as he kissed your neck, his teeth grazing your skin in a way that made you shiver. “We can’t—God, we can’t do this here.”

Sidney let out a rough laugh, shaking his head as his hands slid beneath your shirt, his thumbs brushing against your skin. “You’re gonna get me in so much trouble,” he muttered, but there was no mistaking the heat in his voice, the way his hands lingered on your waist, the way he looked at you like he couldn’t wait to take this further.

You let out a soft whine of frustration, grinding your hips against him one more time, just to see him squirm. “Why not?” you teased, a little smirk playing at your lips. “Scared we’ll get caught?”

 “Your dad’s right down the hall.”

“C’mon Sid.”

He groaned, his forehead resting against your shoulder as he tried to catch his breath, his body still pressed against yours, still moving, still desperate for more. “I know, I know,” he muttered, but he didn’t stop. His hands were still roaming your body, his lips still trailing over your skin, and the way you were grinding against him wasn’t helping. “Fuck, I just need you so bad.”

Your hands were in his hair, tugging, guiding his lips back to yours, and Sidney didn’t hesitate. He kissed you again, deep and slow, his tongue sliding against yours as he pressed you harder against the counter. The friction between your bodies was driving him wild, and he could feel how much you wanted him, how ready you were, even through your clothes.

“Fuck, baby, you’re killing me,” he breathed against your lips, his hands sliding down to your hips, guiding your movements as you both ground against each other, the heat building, the tension unbearable. “We can’t do this here, but I can’t fucking stop.”

You moaned softly, your hips moving a little faster, the desperation in your movements matching his. “Then don’t stop,” you whispered, your voice breathless as you kissed him again, your hands gripping his shoulders, pulling him closer. “Don’t fucking stop.”

Sidney groaned, his hands slipping under your sweats, gripping your bare skin as he pulled you tighter against him. He could feel how wet you were, how desperate, and it was taking everything in him not to take it further. But you were right—they couldn’t do this here. Not in your dad’s house. Not with everyone just a few rooms away.

“We have to stop,” he muttered, though it sounded more like a plea than a command. His hands didn’t stop moving, his lips didn’t stop kissing you, but there was a part of him that knew they couldn’t take this any further—not here, not now.

Reluctantly, you pulled back, your chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath. Your lips were swollen from his kisses, your skin flushed, and the sight of you looking like that—like you needed him just as badly as he needed you—was almost enough to make him forget every reason why this was a bad idea.

“Then let’s do it somewhere else,” you whispered, your voice soft, but full of intent.

Sidney’s heart skipped a beat, his eyes darkening as he met your gaze. “You serious?” he asked, his voice rough.

You nodded, your lips brushing against his as you spoke. “So serious.” Then you reached into his pocket, pulling out his phone, and opened it like you had every right to, with a small, knowing smile. “There,” you whispered, your voice still shaky. “Now you have my number.”

Sidney blinked, his mind still hazy with desire, but he took the phone, quickly saving your contact. His heart was still racing, his body still buzzing with the need to pull you back into him, but he knew this wasn’t the time or place.

“This isn’t over,” he muttered, his voice low and rough as he leaned in, pressing one last kiss to your lips. “I’ll call you.”

You smiled, a soft, teasing smile that made his heart skip a beat. “I’ll be waiting.”

With that, you slipped out of the bathroom, leaving Sidney standing there, hard, breathless and buzzing with anticipation for what came next.

Later, when Sidney left your house, he couldn’t stop thinking about you. His mind was flooded with every second you’d spent together, the feeling of your lips on his, the taste of your skin, the way your body had fit so perfectly against his. He gripped the steering wheel tighter as he drove, his mind racing, heart pounding, every muscle in his body wound tight with the anticipation of what was to come. He was so worked up he could barely focus, and it took everything in him not to turn the car around, march back to your house, and pull you into his arms again.

But he knew better. He needed to cool off. He needed time to think—to figure out what the hell he was going to do with this burning, relentless desire for you. He spent the next few hours pacing his house, trying to distract himself, trying to calm down, but the more time passed, the more he felt the weight of his need for you pulling him back in.

He hadn’t even made it three hours before he found himself sitting on the edge of his bed, his phone in hand, staring at your number, thumb hovering over the screen. He couldn’t stop thinking about you—your lips, your breathless moans, the way you’d looked at him with those pretty eyes, your body pressed so tight against his.

Fuck it.

Before he could talk himself out of it, his fingers were moving, typing out a text. He hesitated for only a moment, feeling the tension build inside him as he hit send.

Sid: Did you make it through the rest of the game without missing me too much?

It was short, to the point, and he hated how basic it was, but he didn’t have it in him to come up with anything clever. His heart pounded as he stared at the phone, waiting for your reply, and when it finally buzzed, he felt a surge of excitement shoot through him.

You: Wouldn't you like to know? ;)

Sidney couldn’t help but smile at the little winkey face, something so simple yet so fucking cute, and it only made him more eager. He settled onto the couch, his fingers flying across the screen as he responded.

Sid: Been thinking about you. Can’t stop, actually.

He didn’t even bother trying to play it cool anymore. You both knew where this was headed, and he didn’t have the patience to beat around the bush. He needed you to know exactly what he was feeling.

It didn’t take long for your reply to come through, and when it did, it had his heart skipping a beat.

You: Oh yeah? What exactly have you been thinking about?

Sidney let out a low groan, his body already reacting to your words. He leaned back against the couch, adjusting himself as he felt his cock stir in his sweats. The memory of earlier, the way you’d felt grinding against him, the way your breath had hitched in his ear—it was all too fresh in his mind.

Sid: You really wanna know?

The next message that popped up on his screen had his breath catching in his throat.

You: Maybe…

A slow smirk spread across Sidney’s face as he leaned forward, his mind already racing with possibilities. He could feel the tension between you two growing with every passing second, and the thought of you on the other end of this conversation, thinking about him, wanting him just as badly—it was driving him insane.

His fingers shook slightly as he typed out his next message.

Sid: You’re killing me, you know that?

Your reply came almost instantly, like you were just as eager, just as impatient for whatever came next.

You: Come on, Sid. You can handle it.

He felt his cock twitch at your words, his breath catching in his throat as he shifted on the couch. His body was buzzing, his skin hot as he imagined you saying those words to him in person, imagined you looking up at him with that teasing smile, daring him to do something about it.

Without thinking, his fingers moved quickly, typing out his address.

Sid: Come over.

There was a pause, a few agonizing moments of waiting, and Sidney’s heart pounded in his chest as he stared at the screen, waiting for your reply. His mind was racing, the anticipation building to the point where he could hardly breathe.

When your reply finally came through, it was like a shot of adrenaline straight to his veins.

You: Send me the address.

He wasted no time, quickly sending you his address, his hands shaking slightly from the adrenaline rushing through him. His body was already buzzing with anticipation, and the thought of seeing you, of finally getting to touch you again, was almost too much to handle. You were coming over. You were actually coming over. And the thought of seeing you again, touching you, kissing you—it was almost too much to handle.

He glanced around the living room, running a hand through his hair as he tried to calm himself down, but there was no stopping the heat that was coursing through him. His cock was already tenting against his sweats, the anticipation of having you so close, so soon, driving him crazy.

The seconds seemed to stretch on forever as he waited for your knock at the door.

When it finally came, the floodgates burst wide open.

Sidney didn’t waste a second. The second he opened the door and saw you standing there, everything he’d been holding back for the past two weeks came rushing to the surface. You were wearing a simple hoodie and shorts, but he barely noticed, his focus entirely on the fact that you were finally here, standing in front of him, alone.

“Hey,” you started, a small, knowing smirk playing at your lips.

But Sidney wasn’t in the mood for pleasantries. He stepped forward, pulling you inside and shutting the door behind you.

 “Come here, baby,” he muttered, his voice thick with need as he grabbed you by the waist, immediately pulling you into him. 

His mouth was on yours before you had a chance to say anything else, kissing you with the kind of urgency that only weeks of built-up tension could bring. You melted into him just as quickly, your hands fisting into the front of his shirt as you kissed him back just as eagerly, your lips parting against his, tongues tangling in a messy, desperate kiss.

Sidney growled low in his throat, his hands sliding down to grab at your hips, pulling you flush against him. Every part of him was on fire, his body buzzing with the need to finally have you, to finally touch you the way he’d been aching to. You moaned softly into his mouth, and the sound sent a jolt of heat straight through him. He pulled back just enough to press his forehead against yours, both of you breathing heavily, his thumb brushing over your cheek.

“Who helped you that night?” Sidney rasped, his breath warm against your lips.

You blinked up at him, a little dazed from the kiss, your lips swollen and pink. “What?”

“That night,” he repeated, his voice a little harder now, his hands tightening on your waist. “In the car. You left me like that. Who helped you?”

You stared at him for a second, and then a sly smile spread across your face. “Oh, you mean since you didn’t want to help me?”

Sidney let out a low groan, his jaw clenching as he stared at you. “Yeah, baby. Who’d you run to after?”

You tilted your head, your eyes sparkling with mischief as you traced your fingers up his chest, your nails lightly scraping over his skin through his shirt. “Oh, Sid,” you purred, leaning in close until your lips were right by his ear. “Who do you think?”

His grip on your hips tightened as your words sent a rush of heat straight through him. Sid pulled back slightly, his eyes narrowing as he looked at you.

“Don’t tell me it was that asshole.” He couldn’t hide the edge of jealousy in his voice, the thought of you going to your boyfriend after everything that had happened between you made his blood boil.

You smiled, that same teasing smile that drove him crazy, and shrugged, clearly enjoying the way he was reacting. “What was I supposed to do?” you asked innocently, your lips brushing over his jaw. “You didn’t want to take care of me. So I had to go somewhere else.”

Sidney’s grip on you tightened even further, his body practically vibrating with frustration and jealousy. “Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, shaking his head. 

You pulled back just enough to look up at him, your eyes dark with the same need that had been driving him crazy for weeks. “Maybe next time you won’t leave me hanging, then,” you whispered, your voice low and teasing.

Sidney let out a rough laugh, his head tilting back as he dragged a hand through his hair. “You’re unbelievable,” he muttered, but there was a heat behind his words, his eyes darkening as he looked back down at you.

You pressed yourself even closer to him, your body warm and soft against his. “What are you gonna do about it, Sid?” you asked, your voice a breathy whisper as you leaned up to kiss him again.

That was all it took to snap whatever restraint he’d been holding onto. With a low growl, Sidney’s mouth crashed against yours, his hands sliding down to cup your ass as he pulled you against him. The kiss was messy, desperate, all teeth and tongue and heat, both of you too worked up to care about anything but the feel of each other. Sidney backed you up against the wall, his hands roaming under your hoodie and your shirt, his fingers brushing over your bare skin. He slowly backed you up against the door. You gasped into his mouth, arching into his touch as he pressed himself against you, his thigh sliding between your legs.

“Fuck, baby,” Sidney groaned against your lips, his hands gripping your hips as he rocked you against his thigh, his voice low and rough. “You feel so fucking good.”

You whimpered, your fingers digging into his shoulders as you ground down against him, the friction making your head spin. “Sid,” you breathed, your voice shaky as you pressed your forehead against his. “Need you.”

His breath hitched at your words, and for a second, he almost lost control completely. The thought of finally having you, of being able to touch you the way he wanted, was almost too much to handle. But he wasn’t going to rush this. He wanted to savor every second, wanted to make you feel every bit of what he’d been holding back for the past two weeks.

“Not yet, baby,” Sidney muttered, his voice thick as he kissed along your jaw, his hands still gripping your hips tightly as he guided your movements. “We’re gonna take our time.”

You let out a frustrated sound, your hands tangling in his hair as you pulled him back to your mouth, kissing him harder. “I don’t wanna wait, Sid,” you panted against his lips, your body trembling with need as you ground down against his thigh.

Sidney chuckled softly, his breath warm against your skin as he kissed down your neck, his teeth grazing your skin. “I know, baby. But I want to enjoy you.”

You let out a soft curse, your nails scraping down his back as you pressed yourself even closer to him, your body practically humming with the need to feel him inside you. Sidney groaned, his hands wandering beneath your clothing as he pushed your hoodie over your head, leaving you in just your little crop top and shorts. His eyes darkened as he looked down at you, his chest rising and falling heavily as he took in the sight of you standing there, flushed and breathing hard, your eyes full of want.

His hands moved to the waistband of your shorts, his fingers grazing the bare skin of your hips as he tugged them down slowly, agonizingly slow. His lips pressed against your neck as he worked your shorts down your legs, leaving you standing in just your panties. “I’m gonna take care of you, I promise.”

The sensation of his lips against your skin, his hands gripping your waist, was almost too much to handle. You pressed your body against his, your fingers tugging at his shirt until he finally pulled it off, tossing it carelessly to the floor. The heat of his bare skin against yours sent a shiver down your spine, your breath hitching as you tangled your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer, deeper into the kiss.

Sidney groaned into your mouth, his hands sliding down to grab your ass, and lift you, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. His warm, insistent mouth devoured yours, his tongue exploring deep, as if trying to claim every inch of you. The door behind you was the only thing keeping you upright at this point. The sound of fabric shifting filled the quiet room as his large, calloused hands slid up your bare thighs, sending shivers down your spine. Your fingers curled into his hair, tugging gently as you moaned into his mouth.

Just as you were losing yourself in the feel of him, the sound of your phone vibrating on the floor underneath you cut through the fog of lust clouding your mind. You ignored it at first, trying to focus on Sidney’s hands, his mouth, the feel of him pressed against you. But then it buzzed again, and again, loud against the hardwood floor, and you cursed softly under your breath.

Sidney pulled back, his forehead pressed against yours as he tried to catch his breath. “That your boyfriend, baby?” he murmured, his voice a little teasing.

You rolled your eyes, letting out a frustrated sigh. “Probably,” you muttered, Sid reached for your phone, handing it to you. You glanced at the screen, your stomach flipping at the sight of your boyfriend’s name flashing across it.

Sidney watched you, his lips quirking into a lazy smile as he leaned in to press a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth. “Go ahead,” he whispered against your lips, his breath warm and teasing. “Answer it.”

Your eyes widened in shock, your heart racing as you looked up at him. “Are you serious?” you whispered, incredulous.

Sidney chuckled, his hands sliding down to your hips, pulling you against him. “Go on, baby,” he said softly, his lips brushing over your jaw as he kissed down your neck. “Answer it. Let’s see if you can keep quiet.”

With trembling hands, you swiped to answer, pressing it to your ear. "Yeah?" you managed to croak out, trying to sound as innocent as possible. Sidney took the opportunity to trace the line of your collarbone with his teeth, nipping and sucking gently, sending waves of need through your body. His hands found your tits, his thumbs teasing your hardened nipples through the thin fabric of your shirt. You bit your lip, suppressing a whimper, trying to focus on the voice on the other end of the line.

"What's going on?" your boyfriend asked, his voice suspicious. You felt Sidney's hand slip under your shirt, his rough fingers grazing the sensitive skin of your stomach before cupping your breast fully. His thumb continued to circle your nipple, his other hand sliding down to the waistband of your panties. "Just...just out at the lake," you lied, trying to keep your voice steady as Sidney's teeth grazed your pulse, his breath hot and uneven.

"You don't sound like you're at the lake," your boyfriend said, his tone growing more insistent. Sidney chuckled against your skin, his teeth nipping at your earlobe. "Everything okay?"

"Mhm," you hummed, feeling Sidney's fingers toy with your panties, not yet sliding under. "It's just... really hot." Sid’s quiet laughter vibrated through your body, turning into a groan as he slipped his hand inside your panties, finding the wetness that was already building. He stroked your clit with his thumb, the pressure firm and deliberate. You nearly dropped the phone as he pushed two fingers inside you, filling you up and curling them to hit that sweet spot that made your toes curl in your socks.

You struggled to keep yourself from crying out, especially as Sidney's other hand traveled up to your face, his thumb brushing your cheek, collecting the beads of sweat that had formed. "It's just... it's a really nice day out," you managed to say, trying not to let the pleasure seep into your voice. He leaned in closer, his breath hot and heavy against your ear. "Feelin’ good, baby?" he whispered, his voice a low purr that sent shivers down your spine. His fingers pumped in and out of you, his thumb still playing with your clit in a rhythm that was driving you insane.

"I can't talk right now," you murmured into the phone, your voice strained. "I'll call you back later.." You could almost hear the confusion in your boyfriend's voice as you ended the call, your eyes never leaving Sidney's as he watched you intently. His pupils were blown wide with lust. He took the phone from your hand and tossed it aside, his focus solely on the task at hand.

"Good girl," he smirked, his eyes darkening as he dipped his head to capture your mouth again. His kiss was demanding, his tongue sweeping in and out of your mouth as his fingers worked their magic between your legs. You felt yourself leaking onto his hand, the ache in your core growing harsher with every stroke. He broke the kiss, moving to trail wet kisses down your neck, his teeth grazing the soft skin. You couldn't help but arch into his touch, desperately needing more.

"Sid...oh," you gasped as he found your clit again, his fingers moving in delicate figure-eights that had your thighs trembling. 

He chuckled, his breath warm against your skin. 

"That good huh baby?" His voice was a low murmur. You nodded, unable to form coherent words as he brought you closer and closer to the edge.

You felt him lift you slightly, your legs tightening around his waist as he adjusted the angle of his hand, his thumb pressing harder on your clit while his fingers continued to explore the warm depths of your pussy. His teeth grazed the shell of your ear, sending bolts of pleasure straight to your core. 

"Tell me," he whispered, his voice a hoarse demand. "Tell me how much you want me."

You took a shaky breath, trying to compose yourself. "I...I want you so bad, Sid," you murmured, the words barely audible. 

His fingers stilled for a brief moment, the sudden absence of movement making you whine with need. He chuckled softly. 

"That's it, baby," he said, before resuming his relentless pace. The tension coiled tighter in your stomach, your muscles clenching around his fingers as the first waves of an orgasm began to build.

With a groan, you buried your face in Sidney's neck, biting down lightly to muffle the sounds that wanted to escape. He kissed along your hairline, his free hand massaged your trembling thigh. 

"Come for me, baby," he whispered against your cheek, his voice demanding. "Want to feel you come all over my hand."

You whimpered into his mouth, the pleasure too intense to hold back anymore. Your eyes squeezed shut as the orgasm washed over you, your nails digging into his shoulders as you tighten your legs around his waist. His fingers slowed, allowing you to ride out the waves of pleasure that crashed through you. When you finally came down from the high, you opened your eyes to find Sidney watching you with a smug smile. 

"Fuck, you're beautiful like this," he murmured, his voice filled with awe against your shoulder.

Sidney scooped you up into his arms, carrying you over to the plush sofa with the same ease he'd use to lift a puck off the ice. He laid you down on your back, his eyes never leaving yours as he slowly lowered himself onto you, his hard length pressing against your thigh. You could feel the heat of his body, his dick straining against his sweats.

"Jesus," he whispered, his eyes dark and hungry. You felt your pussy clench with need, your body begging for his touch.

With a groan, Sidney slid his hand down your body, his fingertips dancing over your stomach before delving into the waistband of your panties. He tugged them down with a rough jerk, exposing your bare pussy to the cool air of the room. You shivered at the sensation, your legs spreading wider in invitation. His eyes never left yours as you tugged his sweats and boxers down to expose his hard cock, he immediately lined himself up with your entrance, the tip glistening with precum. You take it in hand, pumping it a few times before dragging it up and down your throbbing pussy.

"Oh, fuck me," he hissed, his eyes rolling back in his head. 

You took the opportunity to stroke his cock, feeling the veiny skin and the hot, hard length beneath. His precum slicked your hand, making your movements smooth and easy. You watched as his expression tightened, his jaw clenched and his eyes snapped back to yours. "Tease," he groaned, his voice thick.

Your hand continued to glide over his length, the tip of his cock grazing your clit with every pass. Each touch sent sparks of pleasure shooting through your body, making it even harder to resist the urge to take him inside you. You leaned up, capturing his mouth in a kiss, your tongue tangling with his as you both fought to get closer, to taste more of each other.

Sidney groaned into your mouth, his hips jerking slightly as he lost some of his control. He broke the kiss, panting. "Need to fuck you, now," he said, his voice raw with need. You could see the restraint, the effort it was taking for him not to plunge into you without another moment's hesitation.

"Then do it," you dared him. "Take what you need."

The wait was torture, your entire body thrumming with need. He didn't tease you anymore, instead choosing to fuck into you with a single, powerful thrust that made you cry out in pleasure. The feeling of fullness was overwhelming, your pussy stretching to accommodate his thick length.

You arched your back, your nails digging into the couch cushions as Sidney began to move. His hips pistoned into you with a slow, steady rhythm that made your eyes roll back in your head. "F-fuck," he whispered, his face a mask of concentration and desire. You wrapped your legs around his waist, urging him deeper, needing more of him inside you. His movements grew more frantic, his cock sliding in and out of you with a wet, squelching sound that filled the room.

With every thrust, you could feel him hitting that perfect spot deep inside you, sending waves of pleasure crashing through your body. "Right there," you moaned, your voice rough.

Sidney's eyes never left yours as he moved. "Right there?" he asked, his voice low. "You like my cock inside you, baby?"

You nodded frantically, unable to form coherent words as the sensation of his thick length moving in you overwhelmed you. "Mm," you managed to breathe out, the word coming out as a desperate plea for more. "Fuck me harder, Sid."

Sidney's smirk grew wider, his teeth flashing in the dim light of the room. He loved it when you talked dirty, when you begged for it. His hips slammed into you with a force that made the sofa creak beneath you. You could feel your breasts bouncing with every impact, your nipples tightening into painfully hard peaks that begged for his attention.

He leaned down, his teeth capturing one sensitive nub, teasing it with gentle nips before soothing the sting with a swirl of his tongue. You cried out, your hands reaching up to tangle in his hair, pulling him closer, pushing your chest up to meet his hungry mouth. His other hand slid down to cup your pussy, his thumb finding that sweet spot that had you seeing stars moments ago. He rubbed it in time with his thrusts, the dual sensations making it impossible to think of anything else.

"Sid, oh my fucking God, Sid," you chanted his name. Your legs tightened around his waist, urging him on, your pussy clenching around him. He groaned into your skin.

Sidney's rhythm grew more erratic as he approached his own high, his breathing coming in ragged gasps. He could feel your wetness coating his cock, your walls pulsing around him. He leaned down, capturing your mouth in a bruising kiss. Your hands roamed his body, feeling the tension coiled in his muscles, the dampness of his back as sweat beaded and rolled down his spine.

"You're so fucking perfect," he murmured against your lips, his voice barely above a growl. He could feel his release building, the pressure at the base of his spine growing almost unbearable. You whined into his mouth, your body begging for relief, your pussy tightening around his cock as if trying to milk him dry.

With a final hard thrust, Sidney buried himself to the hilt inside you, his hips grinding against yours as he spilled his seed deep within you. The feel of him coming inside you sent you spiraling over the edge once more, your orgasm crashing through you like a tidal wave, leaving you breathless and trembling.

For a second, he didn’t move, his cock pulsing, breath hot and heavy against your neck. Then, with a low groan, he pulled out, the loss of him leaving you feeling empty. You watched as he sat back, his cock still hard and glistening with both of your juices. "Shit, baby," he panted.

He reached for your hand, bringing it to his mouth to kiss each of your fingers. "You're mine," he murmured, the words sending a thrill through you even with the sticky mess between your legs. You felt his come start to dribble out of you, probably staining the cushion beneath you. "Always going to be mine."

He took his cock in hand and stroked it slowly, watching you watch him. He gathered your mixed releases onto his tip and pushed into you once again. He didn't move, didn’t thrust, just stared into your eyes as if making sure you knew he was trying to make sure you could feel him.

"Sid..." You breathed out.

He reached down, his hands sliding around your thighs, and before you knew it, he picked you up, never pulling out of your still-quivering pussy. You wrapped your arms around his neck, your legs automatically going around his waist as he carried you through the hallway, the warmth of his cock still inside you. It was a strange feeling, being so filled and yet so empty at the same time. You could feel the warmth of his come on your thighs as he carried you, and it sent a fresh wave of arousal through you. He lays you down on the bed, the cool sheets a big difference to the heat of his body. He takes a moment to appreciate the sight of you, sprawled out and panting, before climbing back over you. He kisses down your neck, his teeth grazing your collarbone as he moves down to your chest.

"I've been dreaming about these tits for weeks," he murmurs, his eyes dark with lust as he cups your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your sensitive nipples. You gasp as he takes one into his mouth, sucking hard. His tongue swirls around the peak before he bites down gently, the sting making your pussy throb. You can feel your need building again, a slow burn that's starting to spread through your entire body.

He kisses down your stomach, his scruff tickling your skin, and you can feel the heat of his breath as he approaches your core. "Spread your legs for me," he says, and you obey, needy to see what he'll do next. His tongue immediately swipes over your clit, and you jolt, your body already sensitive from your recent orgasm. He chuckles, the sound vibrating against your skin. "So responsive." He licks you again, this time a little slower, savoring the taste of you.

He's relentless, his tongue flicking over your clit before plunging deep into your wetness. You grab fistfuls of the bedsheets, trying to hold on as he takes you to the brink again. "Sid...oh, fuck," you gasp, your hips bucking against his mouth. He hums in response. He kisses the insides of your thighs before moving back up, his mouth finding yours again. You can taste yourself on him, which almost makes up for the orgasm he didn’t give you.

But he wasn't done with you yet. Not even close, not when he’s been waiting weeks to feel you. He stood up, his cock hard again. "On your knees," he said. 

Before you can say anything, or even move, he flips you over himself, so you're on your hands and knees on the bed. He just smirks down at you, that knowing smile that makes your stomach flip. You're on the edge of the bed now, knees spread, ass in the air. 

You look up at him through your lashes, your eyes full of want, and he nods, wanting it just as bad as you do. You lean forward, your hands wrapping around the base of his dick as you take him into your mouth. He groans, his hands coming up to tangle in your hair as he starts to fuck your mouth, his movements rough and demanding. You gag, but you love it, the feeling of him filling you up so completely, pushing past the limits of what you thought you could take.

You could feel his eyes on you, watching as you took him deep, your cheeks hollowing with each pass. His hand tangled in your hair, guiding your movements, setting a pace that had you gagging slightly around his length.

Your eyes water, but you don't stop, your tongue swirling around his length as he hits the back of your throat, it only adds to the feeling of being used and adored all at once. His hips are a blur, his cock moving in and out of your mouth in a steady, punishing rhythm that makes your throat tighten around him. You reach down to touch yourself, your pussy slick and swollen, your fingertips slipping easily through the mess he's made of you.

"Fuck," he groaned, his eyes half-closed with pleasure. "Your mouth is heaven." You took him in deeper, letting his cock slide to the back of your throat and sit there. You felt his grip tighten, his other hand coming to rest on the back of your head as he pushed in even further. You choked, your throat convulsing around him, and he chuckled. "Take it," he encouraged, his voice a low whisper. "Take all of me."

Your scalp begins to sting as he starts to fuck your mouth with more urgency, his hips pumping faster. You can feel his release coming, the muscles in his thighs tensing, and you know he's close. You suck harder, your cheeks hollowing out as you take him all the way in, your throat working around him. He lets out a strangled groan, his cock swelling even more, and you know you're pushing him to the brink.

With one hand still playing with your clit, your pussy is so sore. The stimulation is intense, your fingertips rub against your sensitive flesh, and you can't help but whine around his cock. You're so close again, your body begging for release, and you give in, sliding two fingers inside yourself. They glide in easily, coated with his come and your juices, and you start to fuck yourself in time with his thrusts. The vibration makes him curse, his eyes never leaving yours, his strokes growing more violent. "You're gonna make me come," he warns.

You can feel your jaw starting to ache, but you don't care. All that matters right now is getting him off, making him come apart in your mouth. You reach up to grip the base of his dick, using it to stroke him in time with your bobbing. His cock sliding in and out of your mouth with a wet, lewd sound that makes you even wetter. You can feel your pussy clenching around nothing, desperate to be filled by him again, but for now, this is enough. This is more than enough.

His balls start to tighten, and you know he's close. With a final, desperate push, Sidney empties himself into your mouth, his warm come spurting against the back of your throat. You keep sucking, eager to get every last drop, then he pulls out with a wet ‘pop’. You open your mouth and show him your tongue, white with come, the salty taste of him filling your mouth. 

“Christ,” he rasps out, panting, his cock glistening with your saliva and his come. You lick your lips, savoring the taste of him, feeling more alive than you ever have before.

Still on your knees, Sid puts his hands on your hips, moving you so that you're facing the mirror across from his bed. He's not done with you yet. He presses down on your lower back, forcing your ass further up. "I want you to see your face when I make you come again," he murmurs, his voice thick with desire.

You look up at him in the mirror, your cheeks flushed. You know what's coming, and you can't wait. He lines his cock up with your pussy, and you feel a shiver of anticipation run down your spine. With one hand, he grips your hip, holding you steady as he slams into you from behind. You cry out, the force of his entry making your eyes water, and he slaps your ass, leaving a red handprint that makes you moan.

"Touch yourself, baby," he says, his voice a low growl. "Go ‘head."Your body is already stretching around him, your pussy slick with come and need. His strokes are deep and slow, his cock dragging out before slamming back in, making you whine and squirm. He grabs one of your hands, guiding it between your legs, your fingers finding your clit, rubbing it in tight circles as he fucks you. "Yeah, just like that," he murmurs, his eyes on your reflection as you touch yourself.

You can feel his hand on your neck, squeezing gently, the other gripping your hip so hard it's probably going to leave marks. He's lost in the rhythm, his eyes half-closed, his teeth biting down on his bottom lip. You're lost in it too, your hand moving faster, your breaths coming in pants. "Sid...baby," you moan, his name falling from your lips like a prayer. His eyes snap open, meeting yours in the mirror, and the intensity of his gaze makes you feel like you're going to break.

"Gonna come for me, baby?" he grunts, his voice strained with his own need. "Wanna feel you come all over my cock." The words are like a trigger, sending you spiraling. You tighten the circles on your clit, your body arching as wave after wave of pleasure and pain washes over you. You feel him swell inside you, his own orgasm close, and you push back into him, eager to take all of him.

You moan into the mattress, your hand still working your clit, your other hand squeezing your breast. The pressure builds, a crescendo of pleasure that feels like it's going to tear you in half. You can see his face in the mirror, the look of concentration as he watches you. "Come for me," he grunts, his voice deep and demanding. "Come all over my cock."

And then you do. With a cry that's half pleasure and half pain, your body convulses, your pussy clenching around him as you squirt, the wetness soaking the bed beneath you and his thighs. He pulled back, his cock slipping from your quivering, dripping hole, the sight of you squirting making him even harder. He drags his cock through your folds, his thumb pressing down on your clit, drawing out your orgasm until you're shaking, until you can't take anymore.

Sidney's cock was still hard, still demanding more, but he took his time, his hand moving between your legs to gently coax more pleasure from your swollen clit. You whined, the sensation almost too much, but you didn't want it to end. Sid seemed to know that, "Just need a little more baby." Before pushing into you again. He needed to come, and he was going to do so inside.

"Sid, please," you begged, your voice barely a whisper. He moved a bit faster, his eyes never leaving your face. 

"I'm almost there, just a little more, baby," he murmured, his voice strained. The feel of your walls pulsing around him was too much for him to resist.

"Oh, fuck, baby," he groaned, his voice tight with tension. "You're going to make me... ah, fuck..."

Sidney's cock swelled inside you, and with a final thrust, he came. You felt the hot spurt of his come fill you, his body shaking with the force of his orgasm. He groaned, his eyes squeezed shut, his entire being focused on the pleasure that was consuming him.

He groaned, his eyes squeezed shut, his entire being focused on the pleasure that was consuming him. "Fuck, baby," he panted, his voice hoarse. "That was... fucking incredible."

You couldn't help but hum, a smile tugging at your lips. Your body still trembling from the aftershocks of your own climax. As his hips slowed, you could feel his cock begin to soften, his come leaking out of your pussy and onto the bed. You felt satisfied, a need had been fulfilled beyond your wildest dreams. "It was," you agreed, your voice a breathless whisper.

With a sigh, Sidney pulled out of you, his soft cock glistening with your combined releases. He collapsed beside you, his strong arm wrapping around your waist, pulling you into the crook of his body. You snuggled closer, feeling his warmth seep into your bones. The bed was a mess, the comforter and sheets sticky with sweat and your juices, but it was your mess.

He nuzzled into your hair, planting soft kisses along your neck and shoulder. "You okay, baby?" he murmured, his voice filled with genuine concern. You nodded, your cheek pressing into his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart beneath your ear.

With a gentle tug, Sidney pulled the comforter up, so that you were nestled against his side, your legs tangled in the mess of the bed sheets. The scent of sex clung to the air. He reached over and grabbed a clean towel from the chair beside his bed, gently wiping away the sweat and come that coated your skin. His touch was soft.

His arms were heavy around you, but you didn’t mind. Not one bit. You fit against him too perfectly, like you were made to lay right here — chest to chest, his big hand sprawled warm and wide over your bare back, fingertips tracing lazy little circles at the dip of your spine. The air in the room was cool, but his body heat had you flushed and soft and sleepy against him, every inch of you sinking deeper and deeper.

He smelled faintly like sweat and his sheets, and just under that, like whatever was left of your perfume, transferred to his skin from hours tangled up together. His nose nudged into your hair every so often, and each time, his hold tightened. Like he was still trying to convince himself you were really here.

Your breathing was slowing down now, evening out with that heavy, blissful sleepiness settling in your bones. But his heart — you could hear it, thudding strong under your ear where your head rested on his chest.

Sid let out a soft sigh through his nose and pressed a kiss to your temple, voice low and a little rough. "Baby... you falling asleep on me?"

You hummed, barely moving except to nuzzle closer, lips brushing against his skin. "Mhm... comfy." Your voice was wrecked, scratchy and soft, and it made his chest tighten in the best, most dangerous way.

"Shit, you’re so sweet like this," he muttered, voice dropping lower. His hand skimmed higher, fingers threading into your hair at the back of your head, massaging slow, gentle strokes that made you melt. "Could hold you like this all night, y'know that? Don’t wanna let you go."

"Then don’t," you mumbled, barely coherent, and god — that made him smile, all crooked and a little breathless.

He kissed your hair again. "But you gotta go, yeah? Before your old man starts sending out a search party."

At that, his home phone rang sharply against the nightstand. You groaned, face scrunching up as he reached for it with a sleepy grumble. Sidney’s big hand held it for a bit before hitting answer.

"Stay," he murmured, voice gravelly, lips brushing your cheek. "Just for a little longer."

The phone rang again.

With a dramatic sigh, you peeled your face off his chest and squinted at the screen. "It's my dad," you groaned. "Fuck."

Sid let his head fall back against the pillow with a grunt. "Of course it is. Perfect fuckin’ timing."

He tapped to answer, already bracing. "Hey, man..." he said, trying his best to sound normal, like he didn’t have his buddy’s daughter naked in bed after what felt like marathon sex. Your eyes flicked up, catching Sid watching you with that stupid soft smile and sleepy eyes, one hand still stroking lazy circles on your back.

Your dad’s voice crackled through the speaker. "Hey Sid, how’s it going?"

"Goin’ good, you?" His voice stayed steady, thank god, but you could hear his heart pounding.

"Good. Good. Hey, you wouldn’t have happened to see my kid around, have you?" he said, clearly not suspecting.

"No, no, I haven’t. Everything alright?" 

“I think so. She said she was gonna go out with her friends but… she just hasn’t been answering her phone.”

“Gotcha, well I haven’t seen her but I’ll let you know if I do.”

“Alright, thanks, Sid, talk to you later.” And with that, he hung up.

"Jesus Christ," you muttered.

Sid chuckled, deep and low, the sound vibrating under your ear. "Well, guess that’s our cue, huh?"

"Unfortunately." You scrunched your nose and peeked up at him through your lashes. "Gotta go before this turns into a whole-ass disaster."

Sid sighed, long and reluctant, but his hand smoothed down your back, comforting. "Yeah, yeah. I get it, baby." His other hand cupped the back of your head again, guiding you in for one more slow, lingering kiss — warm and sweet and just shy of desperate. "Doesn’t mean I have to like it, though."

You smiled against his mouth. "Nobody said you had to."

"Fuckin’ hell," he muttered, kissing you again, this time slower. His hand squeezed your hip gently. "You feel so good in my bed, baby. Gonna have a real hard time letting you leave."

"You're not making this any easier," you whispered, grinning as you finally pulled back.

"Yeah, well—" He sat up with a groan, dragging a hand over his face. "C’mon. Let’s get you dressed before I change my mind and keep you here." His voice was playful but thick with that same frustration you both felt.

He climbed out of bed first, stark naked and not bothering to hide the mess you two had made of each other. You giggled, covering your face.

"Don’t laugh at me, baby," he grumbled, smirking as he handed you a blanket so you could go back to the living room where every single piece of clothing was abandoned. 

He followed closely behind. Watching as you grabbed your shirt from where it had been tossed onto the floor hours ago. "Here. Arms up."

You did as told, sitting up slow with a wince. "God... everything hurts."

Sid’s hands paused as he helped you slide the shirt, no bra, down over your head, eyes flicking up to meet yours with a look equal parts concern and satisfaction. "Sorry, baby. Didn’t mean to wreck you that bad." He smoothed the shirt down over your hips, lips quirking. "Actually, that’s a lie. Kinda did."

You swatted at his arm. "Dick."

He just laughed, soft and warm, helping you to your feet next. His hands steadied you when your legs wobbled. "Easy, sweetheart. I got you."

You gave him a look, half annoyed, half fond. "God, you and your big ego."

Sidney just grinned, leaning in to press a kiss to your temple. "Uh-huh. And you love it."

You rolled your eyes but didn’t argue, too busy stepping into your shorts, no panties, with a grimace. "I’m gonna be walking funny for days."

Where the hell are your underwear?

His hands smoothed down your sides once you were dressed, thumbs stroking little circles at your waist. "Should’ve thought about that before you came over looking like a fuckin’ dream." His lips brushed your ear. "You gonna be okay with all those marks, baby? Your dad’s not gonna ask questions?"

You shrugged, careless. "He won’t. He’ll just assume it’s my boyfriend." You shot him a wicked little smile over your shoulder. "Let him."

Sid barked out a laugh, low and sharp. His hand swatted lightly at your ass as he turned you toward the door. "Alright, c’mon. Before I say screw it and drag you back to bed."

You both padded through the quiet house, the late hour making every creak in the floorboards sound louder. At the door, he grabbed his hoodie from the hook and draped it over your shoulders. "Here. Cover up those pretty marks I left."

You smirked, pulling it tighter around you. "You’re obsessed with me."

"Damn right I am," he muttered, pulling you in for one last kiss. This one was slower, deeper, his hand cupping your jaw while his thumb stroked your cheek. "Text me when you get home, yeah?"

"Yeah, yeah," you whispered against his lips, heart hammering. "Promise."

He kissed you again, like he couldn’t help it. "Good girl."

Your legs were still a little wobbly as you made your way to your car, Sid trailing behind you, big and warm and still looking like he didn’t want to let you go. At the driver’s side door, he caught your hand, lifted it to his mouth, and kissed your knuckles slow.

"You drive safe, baby."

You squeezed his hand back. "I'll see you soon."

"You better." His voice was rough now, low with something that made your stomach flip.

You slid into the car, biting your lip to keep from smiling too wide.

Sid leaned down, kissed your temple through the open window, and then stepped back with a soft curse under his breath. "Fuckin’ troublemaker," he muttered fondly.

And as you pulled away into the night, Sidney just stood there in his driveway, arms crossed, watching your taillights disappear — already counting down the minutes until he could get his hands on you again.

—

[kxsagi]

Okaokay this is weird as hell but like BLLK boys with readers who read like downbad BL like hella downbad BL and they caught them reading it

“𝐡𝐞𝐲, 𝐢 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫”

a/n: this is kinda reminding me of that one anime “kiss him, not me”

... did you pray today?

suggestive content inside! 

ft. isagi yoichi, itoshi rin, itoshi sae, kaiser michael, nagi seishiro, mikage reo, shidou ryusei, karasu tabito

isagi yoichi

bro just wanted to cuddle and play mario kart but now he’s standing behind you like he just walked into a crime scene. 

“why is he blushing while getting slammed into a locker?” 

you go, “that’s just their love language.” 

isagi: “THEIR LOVE LANGUAGE IS VIOLENCE???” 

full-on existential crisis. like he’s rethinking your entire relationship. 

“so… you’d rather have someone call you a filthy brat and collar you than hear me say ‘you look cute today’?” 

you: “yes.” 

he’s quiet the rest of the night and suddenly tries being meaner the next day. tells you “move faster” while opening the door and then IMMEDIATELY apologizes. 

now thinks you’ll only find him hot if he scowls and calls you a peasant. 

itoshi rin

you were reading it peacefully until you felt a cold stare from the doorway. 

rin: “you’ve been rereading the same five panels for 20 minutes.” 

you: “he just said ‘i’ll never love you’ while pushing him against a wall… it’s peak literature.” 

rin blinks. “you need help.” 

and yet… two days later he slides you a different BL manga and mumbles “this one has less dubcon.” 

does NOT make eye contact. 

will never admit it but he read a full one just to “see what the hype was.” he absolutely got invested. 

“the writing was ass but the pining was kinda raw. 7/10.” 

secretly furious when the top breaks the bottom’s heart. “what a manipulative loser. i hope he gets hit by a car.” 

itoshi sae

he finds it on your ipad, opens it, and is hit with a panel of a guy crying during a kiss. 

“is this supposed to be hot or are you mentally unwell?” 

you: “both.” 

stares at you like you just confessed to murder. 

“this guy has commitment issues, the other one’s a masochist, and they’ve kissed five times in a public bathroom. i’m judging you so hard right now.” 

continues reading. 

eventually he starts live texting you commentary on your own manga. 

“chapter 18: he cheated and the other guy forgave him. you like this???” 

“chapter 21: now they’re crying and having shower sex. y’all really do need therapy.” 

and then two hours later: “okay, but lowkey that last panel hit.” 

he’s converted. unwillingly. but he is. 

kaiser michael

sees the cover and snatches your phone like you’re watching porn in public. 

“you’re reading this?!” 

reads the title aloud: “‘he growled in my ear: you’re mine now, kitten’...” 

wheezing with laughter. 

“what the hell does that even mean?? are you okay??” 

you just smile and go, “you’d look good saying it too, actually.” 

that shuts him up for a solid three seconds. 

then he’s like “say less” and tries imitating the line. except he does it in a fake german accent. 

now he’s obsessed. he wants to cosplay the mean top. 

“should i dye my hair black and wear a leather collar?” 

you: “i will leave you.” 

also starts quoting it randomly. “kitten, i’ll destroy your sanity” while brushing his teeth. help. 

nagi seishiro

you thought you were safe because he never cares about anything. 

you were wrong. 

“yo, why is this guy crying with a handprint on his thigh?” 

you: “he’s healing through pain.” 

nagi: “he’s healing through getting railed.” 

next thing you know he’s laying on your lap, scrolling through your reading list like it’s the sunday paper. 

“this one’s plot is trash. but the art’s cool.” 

asks if there’s a BL where the guy just naps and gets spoiled. you show him one. now he’s hooked. 

goes “based” every time the bottom gets carried to bed. 

unbothered king. will read it in the middle of practice if bored. 

mikage reo

“WHAT are you READING??” 

covers his eyes like he’s a victorian man seeing a woman’s ankle for the first time. 

“wait is that a leash? WHY IS HE ON A LEASH?!” 

you just say, “he lost a bet.” 

reo.exe has stopped working. 

refuses to touch your phone. “it’s tainted now.” 

but then spends the next three hours grilling you like a concerned mom. 

“do you like that? do you want me to talk like that?? should i start growling at you?” 

you tease him and say “yes daddy~” 

he goes pale. the most flustered he’s ever been. 

next day he tries calling you “bunny” and ends up choking on his own tongue. 

shidou ryusei

oh he’s into it IMMEDIATELY. 

snatches it and starts flipping through like a pervert at a used bookstore. 

“yo, this guy’s calling him his prey. that’s hot.” 

he finds the filthiest line and yells it across the room. 

“’rip me apart like the beast you are’ – YOU LIKE THIS SHIT?!” 

you’re hiding under a pillow in shame. 

shidou: “nah nah this is PEAK. 10/10. i’d do that too.” 

probably acts out the scenes just to mess with you. full feral. 

now he uses manga pickup lines on you in public. 

“hey, princess. want me to ruin your innocence?” 

sir, this is a costco. 

karasu tabito

catches you mid-giggle and snatches your phone. 

“what’s so funny– OH HELL NO.” 

“did this dude just moan from getting his hair pulled?” 

gives you a 10 minute roast session. 

“bro’s getting railed and saying ‘thank you’ like it’s customer service.” 

reads the whole thing anyway. gets unreasonably invested. 

“why is this actually good though. that bastard cheated on him and he STILL forgave him? nah. couldn’t be me.” 

sends you memes of your fave couple like “this you?” 

pretends he hates it. secretly makes an alt account to read fanfics of it. 

© 𝐤𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢

[syrecjh]

──.✦🪐♡ Only You at Midnight

˚🎀༘⋆ || katsuki bakugo x reader, pure fluff

Bakugo has a bedtime. A strict one. Lights out at eight, no nonsense, no distractions, no excuses.

Which is why it never makes sense when he’s the one knocking on your door at 11:47 p.m. Hoodie half-zipped, hair still damp from a shower, muttering, “You comin’ or what?”

You never ask where you’re going. Sometimes it’s the roof to stargaze—just the two of you, sitting shoulder to shoulder under a sky heavy with secrets and constellations. Sometimes it’s the vending machines three blocks down where he insists you split two cups of the spiciest instant ramen, even if it makes you cry. Sometimes he just wants to play a dumb card game in the common room where no one can see the rare curve of his smile when you win.

And sometimes—most times—it’s silence.

The kind that’s not awkward, not empty. Just full of unspoken things. Of comfort. Of home.

You sit beside him, knees barely touching, and you swear he always leans just the slightest bit closer once he thinks you’re not looking. You never call him out on it.

You should. You should say something. About the way your chest feels full to bursting with things you shouldn’t be feeling for someone like him. About the way your name sounds softer when he’s the one saying it at midnight, like it’s only meant for him.

But you don’t.

Because he’s Bakugo Katsuki. And people would find it weird and would ask, Why him?

Why the guy who glares first, speaks second, and never says the right thing the first time around?

Why the guy who pretends not to care until you’re halfway out the door and he’s already following behind, coat in hand?

Why the boy who hides all his softness behind a snarl—and only ever lets you see past it?

You don’t know how to explain it.

That you’re falling in love with the way he shows up when no one else does. That somehow, between stargazing and spicy ramen, he’s become your safest quiet. That even though he never says the words, he means them—every time he knocks on your door instead of letting you sleep through the night.

You know this isn’t some storybook love. It’s quieter. Rougher around the edges. Made of small moments and even smaller confessions.

But it’s real.

You don’t know when it started—maybe the night he handed you his hoodie without asking. Or when he stayed behind after classes, saying nothing but waiting anyway.

Or maybe it was always there. Just waiting to burn quietly beneath the surface.

Bakugo's the only one who drags you out after midnight, even when he’s the one who obsesses over sleep schedules and training regimens. He’ll grumble, yeah. Say you’re lucky he can tolerate your company.

But somehow it’s always you he shows up for.

And tonight, when he shifts beside you and mutters, “You good?”—his voice unusually careful—you turn your head and finally ask,

“Why do you always ask me to come with you?”

He freezes for a moment, chopsticks paused halfway to his mouth.

You see it—that tiny flicker in his expression, like you caught him off guard. Like maybe you weren’t supposed to ask that yet.

The silence stretches between you, heavier than it’s ever been.

“Dunno.” he mutters, but it’s a little too fast. A little too forced. But he doesn’t look at you when he says it.

You almost laugh—almost.

Because that’s not the part that hurts.

It’s what he says next, under his breath, just barely loud enough for you to catch:

“...Figured you’d stop coming if I said the real reason.”

Your breath catches. But before you can say a word—

he stands up.

“C’mon. You’ll get sick out here.”

And just like that, it’s over.

Or maybe it just started.