#i need to replay the game immediately to make this right

[front-facing-pokemon]

[cathnospam]

Loser Bakugo’s a shy kisser

He’s confident in everything he does, BUT when it’s involving intimacy with you? He’s a whole different guy, and it’s cute, because he doesn’t realize it.

You’re always the one initiating kisses, hand holding, you both haven’t had sex yet, but you already know it’s only a matter of time where you’ll talk to him about it.

Bakugo never notices his attitude change either, he’s usually so loud and cocky with anything else; winning a video game with you, homework, even sparring, but right now he’s as quiet as Deku.

Nerd.

His palms are getting damper gripping your bare thighs, though you don’t mind it your blondie sure as hell hates it.

“Shit.” He pulls away from your pecks around his lips, to reach over his thrown t-shirt and dry his hands, “Fuckin’ sweating again.”

“It’s okay.” Your voice gives him a bit of reassurance, “I don’t mind it, boo.” A nickname he practically melts in your embrace when you call him that, his cheeks grow redder as he looks up at you, he lets you continue kissing his face until you reach his lips and that’s when he begins to stiffen.

Bakugo’s lips are in a fine line, not on purpose, and you know it, it’s kind of like a jar top that won’t open just yet, you have to losen it a bit, giggling in between kisses you rub his chest all the way up to his neck, “Relax for me, please.”

His body slouches back in his headboard, almost feeling relief he didn’t know he had. You take his hands and place them on the bottom of your ass, “Look at me.”

His eyebrows were pinched as if he were angry, but his pupils dilated at you, “You’re so pretty.”

“Tch…I hate when you call me that.”

“Mmhm.” You punctuate your hums with a kiss to his nose, back down to his soft mouth, your hips began to rolls against him, a small whimper gets caught in his throat, but you swallow it, inviting your own tongue to invade his space.

Bakugo’s hands guided your body to rock back and fourth, you clothed cunt was so warm and plush against his crotch it was only a matter of time before he got rock hard, but it’s not like you would’ve cared.

Your presence was one of the very rare things that overwhelmed him, but he welcomed it. His mind was blank, but his body was shaking as if he had a jumbled up thoughts, practically moving on its own to feel more of you, the bed below began to creak.

Heavy breathing was exchanged between you both, you held the back of his head, nails scratching his scalp that made him groan into you, the kisses became sloppy on his end, it wasn’t his fault your tongue felt good sliding against his he started sucking on it himself.

Eventually though, you both needed air.

When you pull back his face and ears were coated red as his eyes, hair puffier than usual and a spit trait falling off his cheek, you giggle wiping it off with your thumb, making him feel some embarrassment, “Shut up.”

“You’re a good kisser.”

“I know I am I’m good at everything.”

“Yeah okay…” You roll your eyes to lay beside him, trying to his ignore the oh so clear and huge bulge he had in his pants, he couldn’t though.

Bakugo immediately headed to the bathroom without word and turned on the shower, he couldn’t bare you hearing him fist his own dick on the toilet…even though it was COMPLETELY your fault.

Hope you don’t mind being his jack off material for the next few minutes, your moans in his ear replayed in his mind.

Wouldn’t be the first time though.

[xinganhao]

🫶 svt reacts to you saying 'i love you' on accident.

★ prompt: Ot13 reaction to you saying I love you for the first time (possibly kind of by accident) 🥰 c/o anon

ⓘ friends to lovers vibes, flirting, pet names. headcanons under the cut.

🫶 read more?

seungcheol tries to take it in stride. really, he does. he's convinced he can be very normal about this, even though it will probably have him preening the whole day. he's always thrived most on words of affirmation, and what's more affirming than the truth?

jeonghan's joking, of course. he knows deep down that your little slip doesn't immediately entail a relationship, but he's definitely intent on going out swinging. the light teasing is an attempt to get you to think about a time where you can freely say 'i love you' to him every day.

there's a fair amount of sincerity in joshua's reaction. his first thought is to make sure that you're okay with it, since he has some idea that you've probably tripped on the words. but give him that leeway and he'll take it in a heartbeat. you've started saying it; he'll never let you hear the end of it.

if junhui manages to feign nonchalance, it's because of his acting prowess. he's smug and giddy, though he's not about to let you know that. he's the type to pull the rug underneath you a couple of days later, right when you've probably forgotten it. "so…" he'll drawl. "how much do you love me, hm?"

to no one's surprise, soonyoung is decisively not chill about it. this is A Big Deal to him! an 'i love you'? something he's wanted to hear for ages? he needs to make sure he's not dreaming. there's the dopiest smile on his face, because you love him. it's the best thing he's heard.

wonwoo's hands are shaking. his throat is suddenly dry, and he's relatively sure his brain has short-circuited. it's— just an offhand thing. at least that's what he tries to convince himself. the reality: he's going to be replaying the words in his head for weeks on end.

it doesn't strike jihoon immediately. maybe it hits him once you're gone; maybe it occurs to him when the moment has already passed. one thing's for sure: he's not going to let it go unanswered. he's a little late, not on time, but that doesn't mean he doesn't mean it. you know that, right?

the words make something bloom and blossom in seokmin's chest. they take root like a promise, and even though he tries not to get ahead of itself, it's hard. he's so, so happy to hear it from you that he'll be walking on clouds for the days to come.

mingyu doesn't hate you. that much is certain. he just hates the power you have over him— how you can upend his entire day with a couple of choice words. he had thought he'd be stronger than this, but here he is. panicking because of 'ily'? god, he can't afford to be in shambles like this.

ever the rational type, minghao will be the type to press, "how do you love me?" he can't afford any missteps, needs to know you're on the same page. if you love him as a friend, then so be it. but if there's a prospect for anything more, even just a minute worth of it… well. he would like to know.

joking about it is a coping mechanism. that's something seungkwan subscribes to, at the very least. it gives him time to gather his wits, this whole keeping-up-a-facade thing. (ask anyone: he had been smiling a little too hard at his phone when your text came in. the eyes never lie.)

rarely is vernon thrown off his game like this. he's not supposed to be melting over a flippant 'ily', and yet here he is— trying (and failing) to be cool about your slip-up. can you blame him? he's wanted you for so long, and the words can be as good as a promise if he really wanted them to be.

you're not playing fair. chan has half a mind to make you suffer, to not give you the satisfaction of a reaction. alas, he's always had a soft spot for you. that extends to unquestioning forgiveness, and reciprocity where it matters. yes, even in accidental confessions.

› scroll through all my work ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ my masterlist | @xinganhao

[ohgodthevoices]

What if you called your boyfriend “husband” ?

tags : ts! kenma, kuroo, bokuto, akaashi x reader (separately), fluff ,established rs

kenma : kenma’s fingers move effortlessly across his controller, eyes locked on the screen as he plays. you’re next to him, sitting on the other end of the ouch, on the phone, casually chatting with your friend. he’s only half-listening until you let out a soft laugh and say, “i’m sorryy i don’t think i can come tomorrow , i have plans with my husband.”

kenma’s brain short-circuited ,his character stands completely still. did he hear that right? his first instinct is to ask—wait, husband?—but you’re still talking, so he just sits there, staring at your with his mouth slightly open, overthinking every possible reason why you just called him that.

his ears turn red, and suddenly, his hoodie feels way too warm. his mind keeps replaying your words. his foot taps lightly against the floor. he shifts slightly, hoping you’ll look at him so he can gauge your expression. nothing. after a few minutes, he finally breaks. “…what did you just call me?” his voice is quiet, unsure , but you catch the way he clears his throat after. you blink up at him “huh ?” kenma looks away, pretending to focus on his game. “never mind...”

kuroo : you’re both lounging around when you casually go, “husband, can you hand me my phone?” kuroo freezes, then turns to you with the slowest, most smug smirk you’ve ever seen. “oh? we’re married now? how was the wedding? did I look good?” you roll your eyes. “just give me my damn phone.”

“nah, nah, nah, we gotta talk about this.” he leans in, chin resting on his palm. “you trying to hint at something? you planning our future?” you snatch your phone from his hand, trying to ignore the way your face heats up. “say it again,” he teases, wiggling his brows.

“i take it back.” he gasps, clutching his chest dramatically. “you can’t take it back! you’ve already spoken it into existence! we just got married and you’re already divorcing me…” from that day on, he’ll randomly bring it up, calling you “wifey/hubby” in the most casual situations just to make you flustered.

bokuto : bokuto is sitting next to you on the couch, scrolling through his phone while you’re on a call with the pizza place. he’s barely paying attention until you turn to him. “what do you want?” you ask, covering the speaker with your hand. “uh—pepperoni!” he says, sitting up a little.

you nod, going back to the call. “yeah, and my husband would like a large pepperoni—“ bokuto chokes on absolutely nothing. his phone slips from his hands and lands on his lap with a thud. his eyes go huge, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. did you—did you just— “W-WHAT?!” he practically yells, hands slamming onto the couch.

uou side-eye him, shushing him as you continue the order. but he’s too far gone, shaking your arm dramatically. did they hear that?! did you mean it?! HUSBAND?! by the time you hang up, he’s vibrating with excitement. “babe—BABE—say it again.” you smirk, pretending to think. “hmm… nah.”

bokuto gasps, grabbing your hands. “PLEASE. I NEED TO HEAR IT AGAIN.” his eyes are practically sparkling, and honestly, he looks like he might actually cry. you sigh dramatically, giving in. “my husband.” bokuto lets out the most victorious cheer you’ve ever heard, immediately picking you up in a tight hug. “BEST. DAY. EVER.” He spends the entire night talking about himself at the third person calling himself husband he even texted his friends “BRO, I JUST LEVELED UP IN LIFE”. (he’ll get upset if you call his boyfriend now)

akaashi : akaashi knows you love filming anything and everything, you love to take pictures and film vlogs no one else will see except you and maybe him. even if he’d usually ask to not be in the pictures you post, he doesn’t mind being in your lil vlogs.

you propped your phone on your table filming you and akaashi in the background sitting on the edge of the bed putting his mismatched socks on “okay so today my husband is taking me on a lil aquarium date” akaashi froze mid-pull on his shoe , did you really just call him your husband? did you mean it ? it was probably a slip up, right ? or maybe you’re trying to give him a hint- he never thought where to propose, maybe he should start saving up for the wedding- akaashi was pulled out his thoughts when you called out to him , you noticed he just stopped moving, mumbling god knows what to himself , his face turning redder by the second. the rest of the day your boyfriend was awfully quiet- focused the same face he pulled when he was on the court, he might be more on the quieter more calm sad but he looked like he was making life or death decisions. “keiji is everything okay ? you seem very-” he grabbed your wrist stopping both of you “can you take a week off next week, let’s go to [your dream destination].”

[anisespice]

“ the fuck-it list ” || hq! pt. 5

one || two || three || four

synopsis: there’s a list going around consisting of hot guys on campus that are deemed “fuckable” with theories as to what they’d be like in bed. it’s all fun and games until somehow your boyfriend ends up on this list. 

pairing: various x gn!reader [ suna, aran, kita ]

warnings: mature content. MDI. cursing, suggestive language, mild objectification, atsumu slander/bulling (mostly from suna lol), mentions of soft dom/brat-taming, breeding-kink kita supremacy, not proofread so there may be some errors here and there, and I think that's it :]

notes: NO ONE LOOK AT ME THIS TOOK SO FREAKING LONG THAT WE'RE IN A WHOLE NEW YEAR SINCE THE LAST ONE WAS POSTED LOL But, I wanted to make sure I portrayed the characters as accurately as possible, and I've once again been hit with the burnout stick :'))) so thank you so so so so much for your patience, hope you enjoy!

tagged: @daedaep69 , @ahahadumbo , @viktoryn , @mdsb , @ourgoddessathena , @ushygushybaby , @hyori2 , @lumpywolf , @fantasycantasy, @captaincyberqueen, @tsukiran

SUNA's messy as hell, you bet your ass he knows about the list.

Most definitely clowned Atsumu when the whole mix-up between him and Osamu went down a couple weeks ago. He'd poke that dead horse out of pure boredom or just to document his reactions for a laugh later, resulting in some of the most unflattering, yet entertaining footage of your mutual friend that you were certain he'd keep for blackmail.

“You didn’t need the poor guy’s misery in every possible angle you could think of.” You shook your head at him, fighting the grin on your face. Sitting across from him at a booth in the canteen, you pass the time in between classes by letting him show you photo after photo, video after video of Atsumu’s latest performance.

How his storage managed to survive was beyond you.

Suna shrugged, taking a sip from his drink. “Sure I did. Need to have variety for when I make merch and sell it at his games. ‘m thinking tshirts, buttons, stickers, y’know. The whole nine yards.”

“You’re terrible.” You shook your head again as you sifted through blurry photo after blurry photo.

“Terribly smart.”

“Mm. Debatable.”

“Tsk,” he reached over to flick your forehead, “keep hating and you won’t get a cut of the profit.” Despite him softly glaring at you, he grinned at the giggle you graced him with in response, flicking his forehead back. “Anyway, wanna see the one of him throwing a chair at ‘samu for calling him the mid-twin?”

You paused, eyes widening. “He did not.” 

Suna lifted his arm to give you room to lean against his side. Despite your better judgment, and a smidge of pity for the blonde, you couldn’t deny he had some pretty priceless reactions that never failed to get a laugh out of you. Plus, it was all in good fun at the end of the day—No harm, no foul, right?

Immediately snuggling up to his side, he took the phone back to scroll right to said video, angling it so you could watch it together. You chortled at the sound of your boyfriend behind the camera, panting and laughing as he attempted to hold the camera steady while sprinting away from Atsumu before inevitably getting caught right before the recording abruptly stopped. You blinked in shock, mouth agape as you slowly connected the dots with the last few milliseconds you had. “Did he..Did he tackle you??” 

“Yep. Like a big, blonde buffalo. Life flashed before my eyes.”

“Oh my god,” you replied, hand coming over your mouth as you fought back your giggles. Suna squinted at you, arm that was curled over your shoulder coming down so he could lightly pinch your ear.

“You’re ‘posed to laugh at his expense, not mine.”

This only made giggling harder to contain, eventually morphing into cackles as the last few moments of the video replayed in your mind over and over. Suna pursed his lips, placing the phone on the table to free his other hand as it came to pinch your other ear. He tugged on them, not so hard to hurt but enough to get his point across as he pouted at you. “Quit it.”

More laughs bubbled out of you, now at his ridiculous retaliation as he pulled your ears far enough to resemble a monkey’s. You raised a brow, reaching up to grab at his wrists. “You quit it.”

“No, you.”

You squinted. “No, you.”

“You.”

“Rin-Ow! Stop it, you ass!”

This little back and forth went on for a few minutes, up until it eventually ends with you in a small headlock, biting his forearm in retaliation. It didn’t hurt at all, except maybe your pride, especially when you heard the familiar sound of his phone snapping pictures—When did he even grab it? You pulled back in shock, looking up and meeting your own gaze on the screen as he rapidly snapped away, even having the nerve to give a peace sign in some of them with the very arm you were latched onto.

You gaped in horror, “No you didn't! Delete those!”

He hummed in feigned thought, keeping his phone just out of reach as you struggled to snatch it from him. Rin smirked, “No way, now we both can laugh, babe. We'll call it even.”

With a glare, you opened your mouth to retort but he immediately shut you up by leaning down to capture your lips in a sweet kiss, lazily so, and swallowing any protest you tried to voice until you eventually melted into it. You could just feel his smug grin, and you were tempted to bite his bottom lip, but he pulled away before you could commit. He snorted as you still glared at him, although it softened more and more with every kiss he placed on your face to placate your sourness toward him.

Gradually, the kisses started to grow wet, making you squirm away with an annoyed whine, but he merely tightened his hold on you keeping you from getting far. Despite your struggle you couldn't help but laugh, "Ew! Ugh! You're so fucking gross!"

"Mm, gross for you." He placed another to your lips before releasing you. You gently pinched him in retaliation, muttering a small threat to his kneecaps if those photos of you ever saw the light of day.

After the two of you settled back down in a comfortable silence, your mind started to wander back to the discussion from earlier. With the abundance of guys who've been placed on said list so far, Atsumu of all people one of them, you couldn't help but wonder... Looking over at him as he played with his straw, you asked, "Hey...do you think you're on the list?"

Rin paused, then gave a small shrug, "Dunno. Never checked."

You scoffed, "I find that hard to believe. You weren't ever curious?"

"Not really, always thought it was kinda dumb. I only grew mildly interested after 'tsumu threw a tantrum about it, saw it as another way to get on his nerves. Other than that, it's never crossed my mind. Besides, as if I'd give him the satisfaction of knowing I'm on it, too." He blinked, then looked at you. "On second thought, yeah, check and see so I can dox whoever posted it before that knucklehead catches wind."

"Rin." You slapped his arm, knowing he was half-serious. "We can just report it."

He merely shrugged again, internally debating, but didn't say anything as you did some digging on the account to see if anything came up. It helped that the admins of the account started alphabetizing after posting so many entries, it made it easier to navigate through the endless sea of thirst and shameless threads. When you finally made it to the 'R's and noticed how short the section was, you had high hopes. Until, right there plain on your screen, paired with an off-guard photo of him you posted once on your story in past, was his entry.

‘Rintarō Suna. 6’1ft of malicious intent. A straight up walking red flag, but it’s okay—Red’s a sexy color. Definitely the kind of guy who’d call you “Bro” as a term of endearment, then make out with you while using your ass as a stress ball. He can’t keep his hands to himself to save his LIFE yet swears on it that he’s not clingy lol. But don’t let the cuddly side of him distract from the fact that he can be such a little SHIT ♡. He’d edge you for hours, rearrange your insides like furniture, then have the NERVE to tease you for walking funny. You’ll let it slide though…his mouth’s good at other things than just being smart. MASTER at giving head, treats it like an art form, would rather eat a pair of jeans that ever go a day without you on his tongue. 8.5/10. And he for sure takes pictures/videos of you for his viewing pleasure later. Say cheese!’

As you both stared blankly at your screen, him with furrowed brows and you struggling to hold down a smile. Rin eventually kissed his teeth. "Can't even be mad, read me like a damn book. Was this weirdo in the room with us taking notes, or something?"

You chortled, "Don't even joke like that."

"I'm just saying, tweak a few things here and there, you'd think I ghost-wrote this."

"Sooo, I take it you're no longer worried about Atsumu seeing this?"

Suna smirked, "Hell no, at least mine's accurate. Send him the link."

“Your bitch-ass ex is about to piss me off, bro.”

Upon your unannounced arrival into his dorm, courteous of the spar key he gave you for emergencies, you figured now was a good time to exercise that privilege because this was a borderline catastrophe. Granted, you could’ve approached it more delicately, but you were already upset from the nonsense you witnessed on your timeline during your doom-scrolling session.

ARAN gave you a look of disapproval, but decided to address one issue at a time. “First of all, we’ve kissed. Many times. I am well aways from being a ‘bro’. Second, language. Thirdly, when ain’t they pissin’ ya off?”

“Whatever, you better get’em before I do. You know I’m not above drastic solutions, I’ll steal their dog and hold him for ransom, I’m being so forreal.”

He snorted, shaking his head. Closing his laptop to give you his full attention, nodding at the chair across from him for you to take. “How ‘bout we talk first before riskin’ jail.”

You sat down and handed him your phone, “Read that and I bet you’ll be on board in seconds.”

Aran squinted at the screen in confusion, scanning over the contents before his eyes widened to the size of volleyballs and jaw dropping to the table. You nodded in triumph having predicted this reaction, smugly crossing your arms as you said, “Uh-huh. Bet dog-napping sounds pretty good right about now.”

“No.” He deadpanned, but still overtly shook. “What even is this?”

“It’s called ‘The Fu—” a small glare from Aran. You rolled your eyes, correcting yourself, “The Eff-It List’.”

“Ok, I can see that. But, what is it?”

You scoffed, “Basically a perverted forum that talks about strangers and their kinks or whatever. Purely speculative for the most part, but recently they started letting people send in their own entries. And yours came straight from the horse’s mouth.” You reached over to point at an all too familiar username, well aware of it being his ex’s burner account in their hopes to remain anonymous.

'Aran Ojiro. 6’0ft of tall, dark, and handsome. If you’re searching for a Service Dom with a heart of gold, then you’ve come to the right man. When it comes down to the dirty and flirty, this hunk would be an Olympic level threat to the bums in your timeline. Not only plowing a hole straight into your vertebrae but cooking you a bomb-ass meal afterwards that will have you wanting his pants around his ankles for a round who-knows-what. Truly a gentleman, won’t finish until you do at least twice. And aftercare of a God, we’re talking rose petal baths, oil massages, honeyed affirmations, and finishing off with warm cuddles in those beefy arms of his. Yum. Aran’s big on communication; tell him what you like, what you don’t like, whatever you say, goes. Will make you feel like royalty but rearrange your insides like a common concubine. This absolute King gets a 100/10 from us.'

The way his face was scrunched up, you would think he ate something sour. You’ve only ever seen him make such a stank face at the twins whenever their bickering escalated to physical violence. He was silent for a long moment as he analyzed the post, re-reading it again and again only to grow more perturbed. He exhaled deeply through his nose before handing you back the phone, reaching into his pocket to grab his own. Aran began to type while you were in the midst of conjuring up your revenge plan.

“So, I was thinking, they normally walk their dog in the morning before class, like ass-crack of dawn early-“

“Language.”

“-and they’ll most likely have their guard down, right? So I’m thinking you’ll hide in the bushes, ready to release the squirrel we’ll use as bait, and while they’re distracted I’ll sneak from behind with a shovel and-“

“There. It’s been taken care of.”

The words died in your throat, stunned to silence. You blinked a few times in bewilderment, and watching as Aran set his phone down to open his laptop back up and resume working on his assignment. Mentally floundering, you leaned forward with raised eyebrows, “Come again?”

“They’re gonna get the post deleted.”

“Wha—Who?” You squawked.

“My ex. I sent a DM statin’ that we know they’re involved and that I’m not comfortable with this being spread, so unless they want student affairs involved for sexual harassment, they better work on gettin’ that post taken down. Give it a minute, bet it’ll be gone.”

You blinked once more. Then, after a few minutes later of more stunned silence, you refreshed the page. Sure enough…his post wasn’t there anymore. Not a trace of it anywhere, as if it never existed. With a disbelieved chortle, you dropped your phone on the table and slumped back in your chair, staring into space. Aran grinned, eyes trained on his laptop screen as he cheekily said, “Ya did say get’em before you do.”

With a playful huff, you crossed your arms. “Damn killjoy.”

“Language.”

You slowly grinned, mischievously. “…Shit.”

“Oi.”

You raised your hands in mock surrender, relenting as you giggled. Aran shook his head at your antics, resuming his work. However, you leaned forward to push his laptop screen down a little so that his attention was on you once more, pausing his typing fingers. He raised an expectant brow, waiting for you to speak. You gave him a pointed look, “You blocked them after sending that DM, right?”

He snorted, reaching over to gently pat your head. “And reported their account.”

You beamed with satisfaction, leaning back in your chair. “Good. Fuck ‘em—Oop!Waitwait, hang on, it was a slip of the tongue, I forgot, I’m sorry!”

Aran immediately closed his laptop and began to stand, rounding the table to approach you menacingly, although fear wouldn’t be the emotion you’d describe as he closed in on you like prey. You didn’t even attempt to make an escape as he scooped you up in his aforementioned beefy arms, squeals following after your giggles as he carried you into the next room, ready to give you what he deemed a suitable punishment for your potty-mouth.

The king hath spoken.

You fought to contain your laughter at the sight of your boyfriend’s gears visibly turning in his head as he stared at your phone screen, brows furrowed and hands on his hips like a dad judging someone’s front lawn. KITA was at a loss for words, to say the least. Like Aran, it merely confused him upon the first read, and re-reading it over and over aided nothing. You could no longer hold it in when Kita eventually looked at you with a blank face and said, “Not true.”

Tickled, you decided to tease him by feigning ignorance. “Hm? You think so? It sounds pretty accurate to me.”

Kita frowned, leaning over your shoulder to re-read it again, just in case he was missing something you were seeing.

'Shinsuke Kita. 5’9ft of calm before the storm. At first, we chalked Kita up as a boring vanilla, someone that doesn’t like to step outside of the norm, and blends in with the mundane. However, what would appear to be a dreary missionary nightmare can easily be disputed when you take a deeper look into those carmel hues of his. As we’ve mentioned in a previous post, it’s always the quiet ones you need to be cautious of. Sure, he’ll invite you over to show off his beautiful garden, innocent enough. Well…needless to say, his garden won’t be the only place he plants his seed. With the right person, and the right amount of pressure, we believe Kita to be a closeted pervert with a RAGING breeding kink. Whether you can or cannot conceive, it doesn’t matter to him–Mating press, full nelson, prone-bone, you name it, he’s doing it. Then, he’ll tell you about what produce is in season as if you aren’t fighting for your life right after, continuing his day like he didn’t take his time molding your insides to the shape of him. Scary. 10/10'

He shook his head, opinion standing firm. “’s too vulgar. Have I ever been vulgar to ya?”

You pursed your lips, shrugging coyly. “Well…there have been a couple times.”

Kita blinked, then took a minute to think about it. And he thought hard. Slowly, he started to become concerned, contemplating the last time you were intimate in case this were a possibility. Surely you would’ve told him if he was acting out of line…

The act doesn’t last long, especially when he looked back at you and plainly said, “Yer teasin’ me.”

With a small chuckle, you gave up. “Fine, you got me. You have been nothing but a gentleman during sex, I won’t argue that. But, you have to admit, there were a few things in here that were spot on.”

“Like what?” He crouched down, continuing his task.

You gestured around, “Well…you did invite me over to look at your garden.”

Kita paused his pruning, looking around at your pointed observation. He hummed, then gave a small shrug. “Not to jus’ sleep with ya afterward. My intentions were strictly pure.”

“Ok, fair. But, you do want a family.”

“‘s a normal goal to have, and in due time, we’ll accomplish it. Once I’ve married ya, of course. That don’t make me a ‘closeted pervert’.”

You grinned, crossing your arms. “You didn’t deny the ‘raging breeding kink’ part-”

“Look at how well yer favorite sprout’s doin’, love.” He was quick to change the subject, beckoning you to come see for yourself. You humored him, crouching down next to him in the dirt, and happily gazing over his shoulder to watch him delicately handle your leafy little guy.

But, if you squint, you could see a little tinge of pink in Kita’s ears.

© 2025-2026 anisespice ッ all rights reserved. likes, comments & reblogs much appreciated!

[sweetbans29]

Stress Ball - CC

Pairing: Caitlin Clark x Reader

Summary: The little things you do for Caitlin when she is stressed during a game (based on THIS request)

Warnings: Stressed CC

Word Count: 1.6k

Sweetbans Masterlist

AN: What I would give to be able to do this for her.

The expectations that the world has on Caitlin are unrealistic. Still in her rookie year, people have higher expectations on her than they do veterans who have been playing 5+ years in the league. Now that is not to say Caitlin is not capable because she very much is but the last thing she needs is someone else adding on to the expectations she has on herself.

When you first met Caitlin it was always in passing, playing against each other in tournaments and things like that. It wasn't until you both got drafted to Indiana that you really started to get to know each other. The two of you immediately hit it off in training camp and it was right before the first preseason game when you asked her out. To say things moved fast was an understatement.

It's now 4 months into the season and it has felt like you have been together for years. Being with Caitlin came so easy it was almost scary. Yet every time it felt like it should have gone up in flames, it didn't. The two of you would figure it out together and grow. You complemented each other well.

That leads you to right now. The Fever are playing the Lynx for the last time this season and everything is going wrong for the rookie star. At the end of the first quarter she has no points, 1 rebound and 1 assist. That is including the 2 personal fouls and 2 turnovers.

Everyone breaks from the first quarter huddle and Caitlin doesn't stand up. She just sits there her Gatorade towel bitten between her teeth. She loves those things more than she loves you (not actually but you tease her about it all the time). You can tell she is stuck in her mind which is exactly where she shouldn't be in a time like this. Down 10 after the first, the team needs her to not be stressed but locked in.

You grab your towel and place it around her shoulder. Usually you would pull at her towel and annoy her but seeing her state you decide against it.

Caitlin doesn't look up at you and continues to chew on her towel. You place your hand on her head, moving it to the side of it to sooth other her hair when she leans her head into your hand.

Nothing is said, nothing needs to be said. You know where she is at and she knows you know what she is at.

The buzzard rings and Caitlin finally stands. You remove the towel you put around her shoulders and she puts down her towel as the two of you walk back out to the floor.

The second quarter goes a little better. Caitlin gets on the board with a quick 4 points and it seems like there is momentum building. That is until things get heated between Temi and Alana.

You know Caitlin hates when she is starting to build momentum and something stops it. With a little confrontation on the floor, Caitlin becomes visibly frustrated and she throws her hands up in the air. walking in the other direction. You first help Aliyah grab Temi as the teams are told to go to their respective benches while the refs watch the replay.

Cait is standing on the floor with her hands on her hips, completely unamused. You walk over to her and push her to the bench. While walking behind her, your hands massage her shoulders before coming down to pinch her waist.

"Don't worry, your rhythm will be there when we get back on," you say softly to her. She nods once.

You never want to overstep when it comes to comforting Caitlin on the court. And you would say you do a pretty good job of making sure that you don't but today seems like one of those days where you just can't do enough.

At the half, Caitlin has been doing better but you can tell by her mannerisms that she is not playing near to the standard she is holding herself to.

As everyone is walking back out to the court to stay warm, you grab Caitlin's arm before heading out of the tunnel.

"Hey," you say but she won't make eye contact with you. "Look at me."

When she doesn't, you know she is internally fighting with you and she doesn't want to give in.

You grab her face and force her to look at you. You want to say something, give her encouraging words but know that would only piss her off so you settle with kissing her on the nose.

The action earns you a little smile from her and you let go of her. She begins walking back out and you give her a little slap on the butt.

"Hey!" She squeals causing you to laugh and run out in front of her onto the court.

The third quarter is better. You can see she is playing more like herself. She has made the decision to out the team on her back and carry everyone to the finish line. Everything was going much better until she is fouled and the refs don't make the call.

Her arms come up in a 'how did you not see that' motion and you are quick to grab her arm. The ball goes back the opposing way and Phee draws the foul on Lyss. Everyone is just standing around while the refs discuss something and you notice Caitlin getting frustrated with her hair. You look over at her redoing it for the second time in a row as she lets out a annoyed puff.

You walk over to your girl and pull her hair out of her last attempt. She is about to protest but you are forcing her to bend over so you can collect all of her hair. She giggles, surprising you as you allow her to flip back up.

Now standing begin her as you sooth out the bumps and tie the hair tie around it.

"What is so funny?" You ask as you finish and she turns around smiling. The refs finally walk back over and give Phee her first free throw shot.

"I drooled," Caitlin says as you both look down at the court where sure enough, there was a little pile of Caitlin's spit.

"Ewww gross," you say teasing her and she pushes you playfully. She uses her shoes to clear out it out and you help her. When one of the court-side workers see the two of you trying to clear something up, they run over and wipe it with a towel.

"Careful there, she might be contagious," you tease as the guy looks at you confused. Caitlin just rolls her eyes and pushes you again.

You finish helping her with her hair but bringing her little headband back up to keep the little fly-aways out of her face.

"All better," you say and she looks at you with a little smile.

"Thank you," she says.

"Now let's win this game," you say and push her back to the back court to get the inbound pass.

The game comes down to the wire as the Fever somehow manage to pull out the win. Caitlin and Aliyah head to the pressor after while you and the rest of the team get to head back to the locker.

They are almost through the pressor when someone asks about the interactions between you and Caitlin.

"Caitlin, how do you manage stress when you are on the floor? It seems like you weren't playing like your usual self starting the game off but then came back and dominated the second half." The reported says.

Aliyah looks over at Caitlin with a knowing look.

"Ya, how do you manage your stress on the floor?" Aliyah says egging Caitlin on.

"Well, I have great teammates that know how to lift me up. The success of the team doesn't rely on one person. The win didn't come with me in the second half - ya sure, I helped and contributed but it first started off with Aliyah in the first half. She kept us in the game until I was able to heat up a little." Caitlin says, not specifically mentioning you. Regardless of if she mentions you or not, she knows there are going to be a disgusting amount of edits by tomorrow morning of the two of you, not that she ever minds.

As Aliyah and Caitlin are walking back, Aliyah bumps Caitlin.

"I am so telling your girl you just called her your teammate," Aliyah says.

"She is, she is our teammate," Caitlin says.

"Ya but you and the whole world knows she is is the sole reason you were able to get out of your head and back in this game and you just called her a teammate," Aliyah says.

"It isn't a big deal," Caitlin says.

"Fine, then I am going to go and tell her exactly what you said," Aliyah say as she picks up her pace to run and tell you that Caitlin only called you her teammate and not her girlfriend.

"No, wait!" Caitlin calls after Aliyah as she picks up her pace to stop her from tattling.

AN: Short and sweet! Let me know what you think! And as always, thank you for the love and support

[honeyslibrary]

Hotel Room | Quinn Hughes

Pairing; Quinn Hughes x Fem!Reader

Warning(s); Masturbation, allusion to innocence kink(?), established relationship, cursing(once) edited only once.

Summary; Quinn's hotel room is lonely without you

Word Count; 2k

Author’s note; not my best work, but I figured I'd share it anyways. Hope you enjoy, and as per usual, any thoughts or reblogs are greatly appreciated (: -Honey

Tonight's loss against the Vegas Golden Knights stung. It stung in that raw, deep way that gnawed at Quinn's insides, leaving him feeling heavy and frustrated. Losing two games back-to-back was never easy, but tonight it felt worse—like every mistake was magnified, every missed opportunity tormenting him with a vengeance. The locker room had been quiet, the air thick with the tension that only comes with a close game lost in the final period.

As he stepped into his hotel room, the door clicking shut behind him, he felt the familiar wave of frustration surge through his veins. He was angry—angry at himself, angry at his team for not finishing strong, angry at the other team for playing just a little bit better. But more than anything, he was angry at the fact that he wasn’t home, that this was another away game, another night spent alone in a city that didn’t matter to him.

God, I wish I were with her right now.

That thought had been biting at him all day, growing stronger with every passing hour. Being away from you was always hard, but after back-to-back losses, the ache was sharper. He craved the comfort of being with you, the warmth of your presence, the way you always seemed to make everything better with just a smile or the soft touch of your hand. But instead, he was here—alone, in a sterile hotel room, trying to shove down the emotions that were threatening to consume him.

After tossing his bag to the side, Quinn sighed heavily and ran a hand through his damp hair, the tension in his shoulders refusing to release. He peeled off his clothes, leaving a trail of them on the floor as he made his way to the bathroom. The hot water from the shower was a welcome reprieve, steam swirling around him as he stood under the shower head, letting the pressure ease the tightness in his muscles. But even the warmth of the shower couldn’t wash away the frustration clinging to his skin.

Eventually, after scrubbing off the remnants of the game—he stepped out of the shower, his body wrapped in a towel, and padded back into the main room. The cool air hit his skin, and he exhaled sharply, grabbing a pair of sweatpants from his bag and slipping them on. As he flopped down onto the surprisingly comfortable hotel bed, he stared at the ceiling for a moment, the soft hum of the air conditioner the only sound filling the silence.

He knew he should sleep—knew he needed to rest and recharge for tomorrow. But his mind wouldn’t stop replaying the game, the missed chances, the near-misses that could have turned the tide in their favor. He grabbed his phone off the nightstand, hoping for a distraction, and as the screen lit up, his eyes were drawn to a single unread text message from you.

His heartbeat quickened just at the sight of your name on his screen. It was a small comfort in the middle of his frustrations, a reminder that there was something good waiting for him, even if it wasn’t in the same city tonight. He opened the message, and his breath caught in his throat.

There you were, lying in bed, wearing nothing but his jersey, the soft fabric draped over your body in the dim light of the room. His eyes traced every detail of the picture—the way the hem of the jersey barely skimmed the tops of your thighs, the delicate lace of your panties peeking out just enough to drive him wild. You were lying on his side of the bed, looking effortlessly sexy, your legs slightly bent, your hair tousled just the way he liked it.

And the text beneath the picture—simple, teasing, but powerful in its effect: "Good luck (;”

Quinn felt the rush of desire hit him immediately. His body tensed in response, a sharp contrast to the heaviness of earlier. His frustration with the game was momentarily forgotten as his thoughts shifted entirely to you. Just the sight of you—wrapped up in his jersey, lying in the place where he should be—made him tighten in his sweatpants.

Fuck, she knows exactly what she’s doing.

He adjusted his position, his heart thudding a little harder in his chest as his mind started to wander. He could picture it so clearly—you, lying there, waiting for him, your lips curled in that playful smile you always wore when you knew exactly how much you were driving him crazy. He imagined crawling into bed next to you, his hands sliding under the soft fabric of his jersey, finding the bare skin of your waist, warm and inviting.

Quinn swallowed hard, his breath shallow as he ran a hand through his damp hair, trying to focus but failing miserably. His body ached with the need to be with you, to touch you, to feel the warmth of your skin against his. The image of you lying there in his jersey, teasing him, taunting him from hundreds of miles away, only made that need grow stronger.

He texted you back, his fingers moving quickly over the screen: “You’re killing me over here.” He hit send and then added, “Wish I was home with you right now.”

A moment later, his phone buzzed with your response: “You will be soon. And I’ll be waiting for you.”

That was all it took. His mind was spinning now, thoughts of the game completely gone, replaced by the overwhelming desire to be back home with you, to have you in his arms, to lose himself in the feel of your body pressed against his. The tension that had once been frustration over the game had now transformed into something else—something much harder to ignore.

Quinn pressed down on the photo, watching as it saved to his phone. The image was now safely tucked away in his gallery, and without hesitation, he added it to his hidden folder—a private category reserved for photos of you, a collection built over years of dating.

A low hum, almost a whine, escaped his throat as he scrolled through the folder, his eyes gazing on each one, a particular heat building in his chest as his eyes roamed over your body. His thumb hovered over a photo you had sent a few months ago—an up-close shot of you in bed, your lips slightly parted, your bare shoulder visible as the sheet draped over your chest. It was sensual, but in a way that made his heart swell with affection more than anything else.

But it was the most recent photo (other than tonights), that made his body stir with an urgency. The one you’d sent him from the dressing room at some store, just a few weeks ago. He clicked on it again, enlarging the image so he could take in every detail. You were standing in front of a tall mirror, wearing nothing but a deep red lingerie set that clung to your curves in all the right places. The harsh lighting of the dressing room accentuated the deep, rich color of the lace against your skin, and the delicate straps hugged your shoulders just right. You had your phone raised, snapping the picture from above, your head slightly tilted as if you were waiting for his reaction—knowing exactly what it would be.

What do you think? you’d texted him after sending it, and Quinn had responded without hesitation, his reply simple but certain. He’d sent you $100 through Apple Pay with the text: Buy it. Now.

He let out a soft moan, and his body responded almost instinctively, the ache in his core intensifying as his free hand slid down, pushing his sweatpants down over his hips and kicking them off once they reached his ankles. His boxers followed immediately, and the cool air of the hotel room did little to ease the passion building inside him. He let out a quiet groan as he grasped his length, his grip firm but slow, allowing himself a moment to savor the anticipation.

His thumb hovered for just a second before opening another photo. It was of you lying in bed, the soft sheets barely visible beneath your bare skin. This time, there was nothing on—not even the jersey or lingerie. Your right hand rested across your chest, delicately pushing your breasts together, creating a subtle curve that drew his eyes immediately. What made his breath hitch, though, wasn’t just the sight of your body, but the way you were looking into the camera—right at him.

That pure look on your face, your lips slightly parted as if you had just whispered his name. It was enough to drive him insane. The juxtaposition of your wide, innocent eyes with the way you displayed yourself so confidently for him always hit him harder than he expected. You looked soft, vulnerable, but there was something else, something teasing in the way you posed, knowing exactly what it would do to him.

His free hand drifted down, his fingers brushing over his cock, already aching from the buildup of desire. He let out a low groan as his thumb spread the bead of pre-cum from his tip, the slickness easing his touch as his hand moved over his shaft. Slowly, deliberately, he stroked once, twice, drawing out the sensation, savoring it. His eyes never left the photo.

His grip tightened, his strokes becoming more concentrated as he pictured what it would feel like to be with you right now. He imagined the warmth of your body pressed against his, the softness of your skin under his fingertips, the way your breath would hitch when he touched you in just the right way. He could almost feel your lips brushing against his, teasing, making him want more, making him beg for you.

His thumb swiped over his tip again, spreading the slickness as his hand moved faster, his breathing growing heavier with each stroke. Every thought was consumed by you—your body, your voice, the way you would look at him with a smile, pretending like you didn’t know exactly what you were doing. But you did. You always did.

A soft grunt escaped him, his body responding to the rhythm, the tension building with every stroke. He imagined you beneath him, your skin hot, body pliant and willing, your fingers tangled in his hair as you pulled him closer, deeper, begging him to go harder. His mind raced with the thought of hearing you moan his name, the strained sound of your voice breaking the silence, urging him on.

He bit down on his lower lip, trying to keep himself steady, but it was getting harder. The image of you, so perfectly displayed for him in that picture, combined with the sensation of his hand working over his cock, was pushing him closer to the edge. His hips bucked slightly, his body reacting on instinct as his mind raced through every memory of being with you—every touch, every kiss, every moment of pure intimacy that left him wanting more.

He could feel the pressure coming to a head, that familiar coil of heat in his abdomen tightening with every stroke, every thought of you, and with one final stroke, the tension snapped. A deep groan rumbled from his chest as he came, his body shaking with the force of it, pleasure washing over him in waves that left him breathless. His hand continued to move, slower now, working through the aftershocks as his body slowly came down from the high.

For a long moment, he just lay there, his chest rising and falling with labored breaths, his mind still spinning. The photo of you remained open on his phone, and he couldn’t help but let out a small, breathless chuckle as he looked at it again, the intensity of his desire for you still lingering in the back of his mind.

God, look what you do to me.

[circlebuttons]

Rafe on Love Island

- this is a throw away rant because of how obsessed i am w love island us rn. I feel like Rafe would be a mix of leah and rob with a bit of caine for rule breaking.

-

You get coupled with Rafe in love island on the very first night. When all the guys walked in your eyes were on him immediately, he's taller and broader than everyone else in his sharp grey suit with his white button down being unbuttoned just a tad. The closer he gets you notice that his eyes are already locked on you. His eye contact makes your heart race and the cherry on top is the sly smirk that creeps up on his face when you lean over to the two girls you already befriended in such a short time and quietly inform them that, "Buzzcut is mine." He scoffs out a silent laugh on account of you never look away from him once or block your lips from being able to be read. You're the first person he introduces himself too, holding your hand firmly and probably for a bit too long.

He sits on the couch facing you and during the icebreaker questions you learn that Rafe Cameron is a man who's lived a lot of lives but is now a certified businessman, looking to find his first ever stable relationship. The most important thing you learn is that your feelings of attraction are mutual when he pulls a card that reads "Kiss the islander who you think is a gold digger"

His eyes immediately land you and he clarifies to everyone that he's picking you not because he thinks your a gold digger, but because he'd rather have you be his sugar baby, it's all about perspective at the end of the day.

"You can take all my money" he mumbles before kissing you gently at first with a coy hand on your neck, but you're the one to deepen it and he follows your lead immediately before you break apart, softly saying, "Nice to meet you" while using your finger to wipe the rouge lip combo that you both are now wearing.

There's no doubt in your mind when picking Rafe to couple up with. After the coupling Rafe is on your heels following you like a puppy to an area of couches where you're meant to get to know each other a bit better before sharing a bed. There he asks a lot more questions about yourself, hanging onto every word that leaves your mouth. You eventually leave to go get ready for bed and he reluctantly separates from you, being the first one under the covers laying awake with bright eyes when you climb in on the other side of him. "Courtesy pillow?" he asks looking at you cautiously. "Not unless you need it, I'll behave for the first night" you smirk at him before turning to your side and getting comfortable and little do you know how long he stares at the ceiling replaying every event from today, avoiding reminiscing on the kiss to avoid becoming to worked up, but worked up nonetheless because he feels insane for falling for a girl this fast into the game.

That morning Rafe wakes up with a smile on his face for the first time in ages and he wakes up like that everyday in the villa because no matter what it's always you. He's nothing short of obsessed with you, just as much as you are him, but the two of you being head over heels doesn't make for good tv until Rafe starts playing more defensively. The first male bombshells that get added to the villa get nothing but glares from him as they get way to comfortable with you in the games and attempt to pull you for chats while you're literally right next to him. Production had made it clear that it was off limits to physically fight, so Rafe had to settle for pulling in other guys for secret "chats" instead where he'd just loom over them and make sure it was understood you were happy being coupled with him.

Production would have to step in again to remind rafe that it was also against the rules to hinder filming in anyway meaning saying blunt no's when another girl tries to pull him or turning his head when the objective of a game is to kiss. It unexpectedly makes better tv when Rafe starts his malicious compliance as he sits either blank or stank faced and awkwardly silent in one on one chats with girls who insist on talking with him and in challenges the cameras capture the disgusted tight lipped faces he makes when he's forced to kiss someone else. You feel the same way he does, you're a bit more complacent with production and don't mind participating. It bothers Rafe sure, but at the end of the day it fuels him seeing you kiss another islander and knowing that he's ten times better than any of these guys will ever be. You and Rafe discussed that you have to do what you have to do for tv, but outside of mini games there was to be exclusivity. Exclusive is a word you use a lot, waiting until the outside to be a real couple.

Although what you don't wait for is having sex in the villa after finding out all the guys left for casa amor. Hearing that Rafe was the only guy to refuse not only made you proud, but surprisingly horny too. Making out at night or even grinding on each other wasn't foreign to either one of you, it's when your hand drifts into Rafe's waistband that he shoots up to flip you under him, eager to finally have all of you. After that night the two of you sneak around fucking like absolute bunnies. You protest weakly every time he starts kissing on your neck, knowing what's about to to happen, mumbling "Fuck me, my moms watching" before you the two of you duck under covers and have the best sex of your lives.

[strawbearyxx]

꒰୨୧◞ 。dae-ho hcs as requested⠀.ᐟ

~~how he acts when he likes you~~

no nsfw !

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⟢ always making sure you’re alright, asks the little questions like “have you eaten?” “did you sleep well last night?”

⟢ reassures you alllll the time, he wants you to be okay because he cares about you so so much

⟢ his voice gets quite soft and shy when speaking to you

⟢ he can make eye contact with you, but only for a moment!! he’s immediately looking down at the ground blushing

⟢ has lots of fantasies about you and then feels guilty about it

⟢ wants to be touchy with you, but too scared to at first

⟢ eventually, he will be the one making the first move; it’ll be so sweet!! he’s the type to say “can i try something? please?” and when you agree, he’ll kiss you on the cheek and then turn bright red

⟢ extremely polite!!! and definitely will go out of his way to help you out whenever you ask. it’s like as soon as you need something, he’s immediately by your side asking what he can do

⟢ steals glances at you from across the room, especially during the games— just looking at you can calm him down out of a panic

⟢ offers you his food even though he knows he’s still hungry

⟢ daydreams about you a lot.. jung-bae will always ask him what’s he’s thinking about— “nothing.. i’m just.. yeah, thinking about going home. we’re going to go home after this next vote, right?” (loves to change the subject)

⟢ extremely obvious about liking you but will deny it every chance he gets

⟢ replays the moments he talked to you in his head after lights out and imagines how his confession will play out

⟢ chronic overthinker— he thinks you might like him bac, but then he thinks “what if she’s just being nice to me? what if she likes someone else instead? like.. like she talked to thanos once or twice what if she likes him?” when it really is obvious you like him

⟢ you tend to touch him on his shoulders, cheeks, arms etc when he’s having a panic attack, little do you know that makes him more nervous

⟢ always leans into your touch though

⟢ you are definitely his comfort person !!!!

the end~ let me know if you want me to write a longer scenario for any of these !!

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[cheegu3]

Hi

Can you write the reaction of yander skz when the reader ignores them?

warnings; yandere relationship / yandere themes, abuse, torture, violence, jealousy, possessiveness, depression, mentions of blood and punishments, choking, talks of sex, swearing, sadism

Stray kids - reaction to reader ignoring them

Bang Chan

He would have none of it. Like most times when you knew you'd fucked up, his face went stoic; dead of emotion, smile dropping in a second and his voice disappearing, fading immediately.

He would give you a death stare, which he admittedly enjoyed doing more than anything. He'd give anything to see that look of pure terror striking your face be replayed over and over again in his head.

You ignoring him once was all he needed to lose any bit of happiness he had felt during the day. It didn't matter if you'd been good all week; on your best behavior. None of that mattered as soon as you turned away from him when he asked you something, lips sealed tightly shut.

A few seconds of silence passed. You could practically envision his blank face in your head despite not facing him.

'' Did you not hear me? ''

You jumped at the sound of the chair scraping when he got up abruptly, and your blood ran cold the louder the steps got. He stopped right behind you, standing so close that you could hear him breathe, the shakiness of his breaths telling you he was seething with anger.

Closing your eyes shut, you hoped by some miracle that he would leave you alone like a normal boyfriend would. But you knew - he wasn't a normal boyfriend, not at all.

'' Y/n, I'm gonna give you a few seconds, '' he lowly warned.

What were you thinking? This was insane. You hadn't thought it through at all, it was supposed to be a small payback for Bang Chan ignoring you and being cold to you many times during the week.

You should've known, nothing's ever small with him.

In the blink of an eye, you felt pain shoot through you. Feeling confused, you opened your eyes and blinked, hazily taking in the situation. Time was up.

You were pinned against the wall. He had slammed you against it and was pressing his forearm against your throat, already making you gasp for air so easily.

His jaw clenched as he spat out his next words. '' It will take a lot more than an apology to please me now. ''

Lee Know

Cool - two can play that game, you'd see who would last the longest. Big chance it was him who would win, he'd always win, either by scaring you into submission or just due to his pure pettiness and competitiveness.

And naturally, if he didn't win he'd sulk and punish you of course. That was his right.

The first time you pushed him away when he tried initiating skinship, which he often did, he just raised his eyebrow and scoffed at you. When you did it again, he started getting angry and realized something was up.

The third was his final straw. He tried pulling you close to him when you were going to sleep as he liked cuddling before sleeping. You pushed him away, rolling your eyes and sighing loudly.

'' Stop it. I don't want to, '' you mumbled, already feeling sleepy.

He sneered. '' When have I ever cared what you wanted? ''

You couldn't help but let out a sarcastic laugh, dry of humor. At least he was self-aware. But that added more fuel to the fire, he felt mocked; hating being laughed at.

'' So what did I do this time to piss you off, princess? ''

'' Everything. I want to break up. ''

'' Not gonna happen. ''

'' Then I will ignore you until it happens, '' you shot back and rolled onto your side, away from him.

'' Fine, I love games. But...we both know I always win. ''

A chill ran down your spine as you saw flashbacks of all the other times he had been petty, back then, he was a lot less lenient than now. Anything used to set him off. You looked at the server while he was ordering? No food for the rest of the day. You said anything negative about him to your family? No phone for a month. You didn't look happy when he came home? Fine, he'd leave you in the basement then so you wouldn't have to greet him.

'' Don't we, babe? ''

All at once, the feelings from back then came rushing at you, making you almost regret having started this thing in the first place. Your chest heaved as you drew in a shaky breath.

There was no use fighting him. '' Yes, babe. '' you meekly said, closing your eyes just as a tear fell down.

Changbin

Surprisingly, he'd be kind of chill with it. He was understanding since he'd had many days when he didn't want to talk to people and he knew that he had done that to you many times.

However, if it went on longer than he thought necessary, he would grow irritated and show this to make you stop your behavior.

You had quite suddenly gotten depressed and didn't feel like talking to anyone. You barely had the energy to get out of bed in the morning so whenever your boyfriend talked to you, you never felt anything, so you said nothing.

This weird dynamic between the two of you went on for around two weeks until he was fed up. You just sat there staring with a blank look on your face at the wall or the garden, without saying a word. It hurt him to see you like this, you had turned into a corpse.

First, you would just shrug whenever he asked something or hum when he pointed things out. Then you stopped responding entirely like you weren't even acknowledging his presence.

'' Y/n. ''

His voice came through to you this time. Usually, it sounded so far away, almost as if he shouted to you from the end of a tunnel. He felt hopeful when he saw that you reacted to his voice, your head turned a bit toward his direction.

'' I think you need to see someone. You're not getting better. ''

You couldn't find the right words, mind racing with every possible thing you could say - so you said nothing. Your lips were pressed together stubbornly.

Changbin buried his head into his hands and leaned against the table. A sudden loud bang when he rammed his fist into the table in frustration made you jump.

'' I've had enough, '' he growled, '' We're going. Now. ''

You didn't have time to process what he said before you felt your arm sting in pain as he grabbed it harshly, his nails digging into the skin. He dragged you all the way to the car and slammed it shut, hurrying to the driver's seat so he could lock the car.

Well inside, he sighed in relief when he pressed the lock button, but his eyes drifted to you and for some reason, he missed when you fought back. Missed when you'd insult him and scream and try to run away. Anything was better than this, vegetable of a person.

Hyunjin

He would stare at you in disbelief and then repeat himself. Once things clicked and he realized you were doing it on purpose, he had to bite back the harsh words that he wanted to hurl at you.

It wasn't that big of a deal if you were bratty and pulled something like that in private, but in front of other people?

His cheeks heat up in embarrassment, giving them a slight red tint. But all he did was let out a small, breathy laugh while he tried his best to gather himself as quickly as possible so his inner turmoil would not be visible on the outside.

Your mutual friends still looked to him for an answer, their eyes searching his worriedly. With a sigh he quickly slipped on a fake smile, it was almost second nature to him by now. How he hated them all, he had only gotten close to them so he could get you.

'' She's just...going through something right now. ''

That seemed to make them even more worried. Your closest friend who had never really liked him as she suspected he had ulterior motives, furrowed her brows.

Hyunjin swallowed thickly and hastily added, '' It's nothing too serious, she has just fought with her sister and family a lot lately. ''

It was the best lie he could come up with on the spot. He relaxed visibly, his tense shoulders sinking down when they started accepting what he had just told them.

However, he could still feel that eerie feeling of being watched. Your friend didn't believe him, of course she didn't, she never did. He had to go after you and fix this to get her off his back.

'' I should go check on her. ''

The other murmured in agreement and barely noted when he slipped away after you. He swore under his breath and tried his best not to run.

What the fuck did you do? Couldn't you just ever behave?

Han

He would feel extremely stressed by you becoming completely unresponsive to him. This wasn't normal at all and it was driving him insane.

Why wouldn't you talk to him and tell him what was wrong so he could do anything in his power to fix it? Did you enjoy torturing him like this?

He hated when things changed so much that he always ensured you two were on good terms. Whenever you were mad at him, you'd fought, or you were crying after a punishment, he would have trouble calming himself down.

Maybe a part of that was because he didn't like how it made him feel deep down. Your cries of pain, your pleas for him to stop, your tears - what it did to him.

His breathing would become more hitched, almost bordering on a panic attack. What he needed most in those moments was reassurance that you still loved him, that you didn't hate him, and that you weren't going to leave him or that you thought he was a bad person.

'' Y/n? '' he started quite calmly, which surprised him and you.

You looked away but were startled by him sneaking up to your side after you had walked away and slipped out of his hand. The cinema where you were was packed, so it would've been easy to disappear like a ghost in the wind if you had been with anyone else. Of course with him though, he noticed immediately.

His eyes widened and he stared after you, your slightest actions caused a surge of panic coursing through him.

'' Where are you going? '' his voice sounded steady, hiding his desperation.

There was a slight edge to it, though, that made you second-guess your rebelliousness. You had asked if you could go out with your friend for an evening, and he had like always, said no. Feeling fed up with his overly clingy, anxious, and possessive personality, you felt like putting your foot down, and this was the only way you could think of.

But he didn't react the way you had predicted he would. In the only area of the cinema where fewer people were now, he leaned in, his breath tickling your neck.

'' I've given you too many chances, haven't I? '' he whispered.

You flinched. There was something different about his tone. He was enjoying it.

Felix

He would be a little bit oblivious to the whole thing. Sometimes he'd say stuff and not expect you to answer, because he was used to your mood changing from time to time.

So, he'd almost go a full 24 hours without noticing something was wrong. When he did, his eyes widened and he felt very guilty.

You had just come home from taking a walk in the evening. Like most days Felix and you sat down to watch a movie or a series.

He picked up the remote and started flipping through Netflix's home page. Being used to you choosing since you had very strong opinions about movies and tv-series, he waited patiently for you to butt in. He had almost scrolled through the entirety of his saved list when he glanced over at you. You looked bored. He could tell that you had no intention of taking the remote from him, and that’s when it clicked in his head.

Realisation spread across his face and a look of horror came upon it. “ Oh my god I’m so sorry, y/n “

“ How could I not have noticed- “ he seemed to get lost in his head as he said to himself, “ how long did I not notice for? “ 

You hadn't planned to keep it going for very long, you just wanted him to become a bit more self-aware and know of your needs and moods.

With a deep sigh, you finally spoke for the first time in hours. '' It took you a long time. ''

You felt irritated but it was also easy to tell that he genuinely felt bad, so maybe he'd make it up to you and change his behavior afterward. He sighed too and ran his fingers through his hair.

'' Come here, '' he softly said after a few minutes of silence.

It was so low that you almost missed it. As soon as you came close enough, he pulled you into his lap and started gently caressing your face.

'' I'll make it up to you, my love, '' your heart made a leap, '' I promise.''

He pressed his lips against yours and in an instant you forget why you were really mad at him.

Seungmin

His fist slammed down into the table, rattling its contents and making you jump in surprise. With narrowed eyes, he watched you closely as the tension between you increased with every moment.

'' You're not listening to me. Are you ignoring me? '' his voice raised ever so slightly making you look around with fear.

The last thing you wanted was for him to cause a scene in the restaurant.

'' Well, '' he quirked his eyebrow, '' are you? ''

You swallowed thickly. '' Not...not really. I just got lost in my thoughts.''

Seungmin hummed and started drumming his fingers against the table. You watched him anxiously, trying to predict his next move. For a long time, he just sat there, his chair pushed out and a little slumped down.

Then he got up so aggressively that you almost jumped for a second time. He stalked towards you and pulled you up in one swift movement.

'' We're going home. ''

'' But...'' your protests trailed off when he gave you a warning glare.

Reluctantly you let him walk you to his car and then got in willingly. The air on the ride home felt stiff and dry, he didn't talk at all, and if you tried to initiate a conversation or let out as much as a sound, it would make him whip his head around and clench his jaw as he stared you down.

Well home, he didn't even bother to turn off the car or park it. With a simple wave of his hand to the servants he set them off to work and dragged you inside.

When you realized where he was leading you, you stopped and went rigid, refusing to move. That familiar red door was staring back at you, and the more you looked, the more it looked like it was eerily bleeding.

It was his favorite playroom. You remembered his amused voice as he whispered in your ear on the first day you were there, ' soundproof so no one can hear your pretty screams '

'' You don't have a choice. Go, or I'll make you. ''

I.N

He'd react insecurely and possessively as hell. With his mind spinning, he almost lost his vision when he pushed you against the mattress in a chokehold, all he saw was red.

'' Who is he? ''

You could barely think since the air to your brain was rapidly restricting. At first when you tried to answer, it came out in small gasps which made I.N snap out of it and loosen his grip.

'' Speak. ''

'' Who? '' you said, your voice already hoarse. '' What are you talking about? ''

'' The guy that you're fucking! '' he screamed.

You blinked at him in confusion. All you'd done was give him short answers and squirm out of his hands when he'd try to touch you. You hadn't really meant to ignore him, you just wanted to be alone.

A scoff slipped out when you realized that he must've jumped to a conclusion. It was a long stretch but it almost always seemed to be the conclusion he jumped to when he felt threatened.

'' There's no one. I'm just not doing too well. ''

You knew it was pointless, the wild look in his bloodshot eyes already told you that he wasn't hearing anything but his own rage.

His hands moved down your body and he pulled you so close your lips were almost touching. They traveled further and he then yanked your phone out of your back pocket.

You were about to say something to try and calm him down. He interrupted you by the sound of the phone smashing into a million pieces as he threw it full force into the wall beside you.

'' Now we're even. ''

[weepingtalecowboy]

Hyrule Warriors strategy lol

Fanfic prompt: A thing I absolutely love about Hyrule warriors is how the game needs strategy and how said strategy evolves

You go from

“Please go there I will carry you there but please don’t run off”

Too

“GET OVER HERE RIGHT THIS SECOND OR ELSE…!,!”

like you end up barking orders like a literal drill sergeant

You have absolutely no faith that anyone would go where they need to

I spent more time in the menu barking orders than I did actually holding and taking over zones

Even funnier is how replaying the game absolutely makes a difference

Where in games like windwaker or twilight princess you are forced to progress slowly through the game

No matter how good you get at them you still need to wait for bosses to enter second and third phase

Or more specifically need to either tear down the barrier (or skip it but that’s hard) or turn into a hylian in both games

The only thing that changes is that you can play the game better and more reliably than before

In Hyrule warriors the learning curve makes replaying the game hilarious

Because the second you genuinely understand the strategy for the game you play it completely differently

Fighting Volga the first time is literally more about precisely mashing buttons and aiming at him every single time than anything else

I beat him in like ten seconds flat

Like from a time travel fix it perspective Hyrule warriors let’s you do everything immediately

Like imagine warriors getting sent back in time to the first ever fight in Hyrule warriors and literally the second he gets promoted he goes full drill sergeant mode on people

Where first time you learn the usefulness of dragging people to do stuff rather late

You also eventually don’t trust anyone to do stuff if you aren’t outright controlling them immediately

This time around warriors got the confidence to scream at people right after he got the promotion lol

It probably looks so funny when a near new recruit gets the audacity to threaten everyone the second he gets promoted

And then out drill sergeants a higher up and finishes missions in like half an hour the most (respect speed run )

But only because he scared everyone into obedience (like npcs run like they would die if they don’t get to the ordered position right this second)

And kept tabs on all the zones that need to be held

While also ignoring literally every enemy except the generals , redeads and other special forces (honestly redeads make NPCs a new level of ineffective… way to slow)

Only doing side missions for two seconds and then doing the main ones exclusively

And boosting moral like crazy (because of how fast you get side missions done)

You legitimately become a tank at some point in Hyrule warriors and not even replaying the entire game would balance it out

Tune and mask probably feared the captain when he went drill sergeant (and you go drill sergeant way too often in this game)

We need more drill sergeant warriors in the fandom

Because in the game nobody disobeys your orders and runs like their lives depend on it

The chain needs to experience drill sergeant warriors when fighting a boss (maybe dink)

No honor for the evil … you trap them in a corner and keep beating them into submission and don’t stop until they disintegrate

Cia didn’t even have a chance lol

We need more time travel where the character simply immediately becomes their best possible form because they simply had a growing as a person arc they could skip this time around

Arguing with that guy about stuff involving missions is probably not recommended

Time and wind just sit back and watch as warriors get into drill sergeant mode and wait till one of the links gets to do pushups

You have better luck with literally any other type of discussion but not military or mission related lol

[astars-things]

Positive Pt 2

*photos are from Pinterest I do not own them

please do not copy and or upload my work as your own

802 words

(Pairing- Jack Hughes x Sister!Reader, Quinn Hughes x Sister!Reader, Luke Hughes x Sister!Reader)

a month had gone by since those two pink lines changed my life.  A month of morning sickness, exhaustion, and trying to wrap my head around the fact that I was going to be a mom.

At seventeen. 

my mom and I decided it was best for me to finish the year doing online school, it was for the best, trying to keep everything on the down low because I knew if people found out I would be named the school slut or that I was attention seeking. So to keep me and my baby safe this was the best decision. 

telling my mom, dad and brothers that I was pregnant but telling my "boyfriend" I'm carrying his child is the most scariest one 

I stood in front of my mirror for hours rehearsing what to say, trying to find the right words to make him understand. But when I finally sat across from him, my hands shaking under the café table, all my carefully planned words vanished.

"I'm pregnant."

His reaction was immediate—his eyes widened, his jaw tightened, and then...nothing. Just a heavy sigh and a shake of his head.

"I can't do this, Y/N," he said, his voice flat. "I don't want to be a dad."

The air left my lungs. I stared at him, waiting for something—regret, second thoughts, anything—but all I saw was indifference. Like I was a problem he wanted to erase.

I left without another word, blinking back tears. 

back home

I sat down on my bedroom floor holding pictures of us, wondering where was the guy I fell in love with, why did he change. soon my phone vibrating next to me took me out of my overthinking, It was Quinn, he made it his mission to Facetime me at least once a day 

"hey did you watch the game last night, and did you see the goal I made for you and little Bean- hey hey why are you crying munchkin" Quinn cooed soon noticing my tears "he doesn't want to be a dad" I sobbed, Quinn's face dropped "that fucking dick. you don't need him munchkin. You have us. Me, Mom, Dad, Luke—hell, even Jack, whether he wants to admit it or not. We're here for you. And for the baby."

The baby.

Hearing him say it like that like this tiny life inside me mattered like I mattered, made my throat tighten.

"Thanks, Q," I whispered.

soon he hung up the phone as soon as he knew I was going to be okay, but my mind was still clouded with the looming thoughts of what if Jack doesn't want me as his sister anymore  and just so many of the what ifs 

No matter how hard I tried to push those thoughts away, my brain kept replaying his reaction over and over again he was furious, convinced I had ruined not just my life, but his, too. He had gotten so disappointed in me that he stopped talking to me. Ignored my texts. And then, the final blow—I noticed he had unfollowed me on Instagram and Twitter.

And so did everyone else. 

As soon as I opened up TikTok or Twitter I just saw all the notifications of fans and drama pages adding in their comments why did Jack Hughes unfollow his sister? What happened between Y/N and Jack? Family drama??

I stared at my screen, my heart sinking. It was one thing to know my brother was mad at me. It was another to see it so blatantly, so publicly. I turned my phone off soon making my way downstairs to get some chocolate, trying to keep my tears at bay, trying to not let my parents see how much this is affecting me. 

Once I entered the kitchen I saw my dad standing there, we didn't make any eye contact or even speak until I sat down at the kitchen bench "I saw what Jack did," he finally said.

I swallowed hard. "Guess that makes two of you disappointed in me."

Dad exhaled through his nose. "I am disappointed, Y/N. Not in you, but in the situation. You have no idea how hard this is for me to accept."

I bit my lip, trying to hold back my emotions.

"But that doesn't mean I'm not here," he continued. "Because I am. No matter how messy this gets."

I looked up at him, tears brimming in my eyes.

"You mean that?"

He nodded. "Of course I do." I hesitated for only a second before wrapping my arms around him. It was the first hug I had given him in a month.

And it felt nice.

For the first time in a long time, I didn't feel like I was drowning.

Maybe Jack still hated me. Maybe my ex wanted nothing to do with this baby. Maybe my future was terrifying and uncertain.

But I wasn't alone.

And maybe, just maybe, I was going to be okay.

[hogwartsfirebolt]

the game’s the game

“What was going through your mind when you spotted the Snitch?”

Two camera shutters go off like lighting, but Draco doesn’t blink. It’s almost the end of the season, and he’s done a press conference every week. He’s used to them.

“Fucking finally,” he answers, and the journalists all laugh. They think he’s joking, and he can already imagine the articles they’ll publish tomorrow pronouncing him cheeky and funny, but he means it wholeheartedly. Six hours in the sky, drenched all the way through his pants in rainwater, and facing the very best player in the league? He had half a mind to jump off his broom if only to have the game end somehow.

“This is the second time you face PU and well, Harry Potter, this season,” says another reporter, a young, pretty woman with her hair pinned up and a reverent tone when she speaks Potter’s name. Like everyone. “Are you expecting to encounter him at this year’s Cup? And if so, how does that make you feel?”

Draco breathes out hard through his nose. Across the room from him, sitting at his own table against the wall opposite, Potter’s doing his own press conference. He’s wearing a hat backwards, the light blue of his team hoodie contrasting with his golden-warm skin tone. He has a hand to his chin, rubbing his short beard in thought at some question he’s being asked. Probably about just how sweet it had been to snatch that Snitch right from under Draco’s nose. He’s earnest and so gorgeous Draco can’t stand the sight of him.

“The game is the game,” Harry’s voice carries, clear and chesty, deeply masculine as he says his favorite little quote that means absolutely nothing and that fans have been yelling and tattooing on their bodies the whole season. “We don’t take any victory for granted. Coach has been running us to the ground, she won’t stop until we have that trophy in Puddlemere, and we’re doing our best to make her proud.”

“Oh, I’m certain we’ll face them at the Cup,” is what Draco answers at last. “Honestly? I think no other team comes even close. We’ll face them, and then we’ll bring the Cup home to Appleby. As Potter himself likes to say, the game is the game.”

All the cameras around him go off, the sound of Quick-Quills scrabbling and the reporters’ scandalized gasps at his use of Potter’s quote. He grins, puts his olive green Arrows cap on and stands to leave. He needs a fucking shower.

Later on, he’s sprawled on his hotel room couch, drying his hair with a towel and watching a replay of the game on the enormous television, making mental notes about his own flying, his mistakes, the times he dove too soon or hovered too low. When the screen follows the blue jersey with POTTER 7 emblazoned across the back, he looks closely, trying to spot mistakes but knowing he won’t find any. Potter’s probably the best flier of the century, and Draco loves Quidditch too much to lie to himself about that.

He’s admiring one of Potter’s physics-defying feints when there’s a knock on his door. Immediately, his heart takes up a gallop, and he has to press a hand to the center of his chest with a frown.

“Calm the fuck down, Malfoy,” he mutters. It’s a disproportionate reaction and he’s irritated with himself for it. It’s not as though it’s the first time. Or the tenth.

He pauses the game with a flick of his wand and makes his way to the door, through the archway that separates the TV room from the kitchenette. A quick look at the archway across the suite to make sure the bedroom is as he left it, and he’s at the door, taking a deep breath.

Potter’s grin is huge when Draco opens. He’s foregone all his team outwear, and is now in a familiar, worn leather jacket and a black sweater. His hair is wet, as though he rushed after his shower so he could get here quicker. Draco opens his mouth to say something, but before he figures out what, Harry pushes inside, turns around and presses him against the door, big hands gentle on Draco’s waist. Draco’s heart hasn’t gotten the “this isn’t the first or tenth time this happens,” memo, and is still running a marathon inside his chest, so he says nothing.

There’s a plastic bag in Potter’s hands. Dinner, probably, he usually brings dinner when they meet after a game. His wide smile reveals white teeth, a crooked canine that Draco knows is a baby tooth that never loosened. Round, stylish glasses cover the most intoxicating green eyes Draco has ever seen, and they’re shining with tonight’s victory. And Draco might be — definitely is — the world’s sorest loser, but he’s also the world’s biggest slut for Quidditch excellence, and he has it right here, holding him against his hotel room door.

“The game is the game?” Harry asks, amused, already leaning in, the hand on Draco’s waist moving to wrap the whole way around him and pull him close.

“Just some stupid phrase I’ve heard from a dickhead,” Draco answers, but the words hold the shape of a smile and are uttered right into a kiss there at the end.

It’s always a race at the start. They're both high from the game, still in that mindset, and it’s a competition to see who can undress quicker, who can make the other harder, who can earn the first moan and coax the first orgasm of the night. But after that first one, after Draco’s jaw aches dully and Potter is softening between his legs, everything slows down a little. Potter helps him up and they share the tacos Potter brought, watching the last minutes of the game they played earlier with Draco’s legs up on Potter’s lap, where he’s massaging his knees, his quads, making sure he’s not achy from kneeling for him.

“I really fucked that one up,” Potter comments. His tiny self on the screen just pulled out of an impossible dive at what looks like a 90 degree angle. He sounds earnest, which is the only reason Draco isn’t kicking him right in his beautiful face.

“I hate you so much. Only you would call that a fuck up.”

Potter hums, his massaging hands moving from Draco’s calf to his heel, his thumb pressing into his sole. On the screen, tiny Draco swerves a Bludger aimed to his head, and his teammate Owen is flying to him to make sure he’s alright.

“That guy is so into you,” Potter points out.

“I know. We fucked all through rookie year.”

Potter turns to look at him so fast it must hurt his neck. Draco raises an eyebrow, confused at the strong reaction.

“What?”

“I — I don’t know,” Potter says, suddenly sheepish. His hands haven’t stopped moving over Draco’s foot. Potter’s skin is dark, but Draco can still make out the blush spreading across his cheekbones. “Isn’t it weird? He’s a teammate.”

There’s something he’s not saying. It’s evident in the way he bites his bottom lip, in the way he obviously wants to look away but is too ridiculously brave to actually do it. Draco’s heart thumps inside his chest, so hard he’s sure it must be audible to Harry too.

They’ve never named this thing between them. The first time they did it, after the quarter finals one year before, with Potter’s ill advised kiss that ended with them fucking in the showers of the stadium after Potter had wiped the damn dust with Draco on the pitch, they agreed to keep it quiet, and that was the last they discussed of it. It’s going on fourteen months since then, and they’ve done it at least once a month, when the league brings them to nearby towns, and sometimes when it doesn’t and they take a quick midnight Portkey to each other to blow off some steam.

Draco had never in his life been as well-fucked as he’s been this past year, and he definitely doesn’t want to lose it. Potter’s always been honest and open with him, vocal in bed about how much he wants him, filthy in his occasional text messages when they’re apart, but he’s never given any indication that he wants anything other than exactly what they have.

“It’s not weird,” Draco says slowly, unsure of what to think of this exchange. “We stopped a while ago. I was clear that I didn’t want — that I’d rather we stayed friends and teammates, without any complications.”

“Right,” Potter says. He sounds relieved, and Draco feels like he’s three steps behind the conversation they’re having. He’s about to ask, but Potter’s fingers on his calf smooth over an old knot and he groans instead, letting his head fall back onto the couch cushion.

“That feels great,” he says, and Potter repeats the motion.

“Yeah. I think you pulled it when you made that X turn.”

The turn he made to try to beat him to the Snitch, he doesn’t say. How he had enough awareness to know Draco attempted it while diving for the Snitch himself is beyond comprehension, but Draco has long accepted that Potter is simply insane about the game. He notices everything, considers everything, takes every risk. If he weren’t a player himself, Draco knows he would be following Puddlemere and Harry wherever they played for the entire season, wearing a pale blue jersey with the number 7 on it.

“Probably,” Draco says, closing his eyes and groaning again when Harry keeps pressing the same point. After a moment, he feels something softer brushing his calf, and opens his eyes to find Harry bent over his leg, kissing a path up towards his knee. He can’t help the embarrassing little sound he makes, and Harry’s laugh is a puff against his skin as he keeps moving up, breath warm on the wet trail of his kisses up Draco’s thigh. In the background, the presenters are going crazy over a feint Harry pulled, the sound of the audience carrying all through the stadium and out of the TV speakers.

Harry has made his way high up and is kissing Draco’s birthmark, a brown, apple-sized beauty mark an inch below his groin when he lifts his head to ask, “Why didn’t you want to?”

Draco can’t believe he’s using his mouth to speak at that moment. He licks his lips, trying to make sense of the question.

“What? What are you even — ?” He tries to sit up a little, but Harry moves over him instead so they’re eye-level without Draco having to move at all.

“With Caddell. Why didn’t you want to keep seeing him?”

“Owen? Why the fuck are we talking about —,” Draco lets his head drop down onto the cushions again, a sigh punched out of him. Harry takes pity and leans forward to kiss him, lips soft over Draco’s, knowing exactly how to coax his kisses out of him the way he likes best.

“I just want to know,” Harry whispers against his lips. He’s breathless just from touching Draco, from rubbing his legs, from kissing him. Fuck, this is insane.

“I like him, but it wasn’t very exciting.” Draco says. He closes his eyes as Harry begins to kiss down his neck, and tries to really think about it, because he’s not even sure himself. “I wasn’t willing to risk our teamwork when what we had wasn’t even that … electric. I don’t know. This sounds insane.”

Harry shakes his head, his beard rubbing against Draco’s collarbone. “It doesn’t. I get it.” He bites on the delicate skin connecting neck and shoulder, licks a path down his chest. “I get electric.”

“Fuck yes you do,” Draco says, nonsensical, but he feels he can’t be blamed when Harry is brushing his lips over his nipples, broad hands moving around Draco’s body to secure a grip over his ass.

“Is this?” Harry asks, mouth nearing the V of Draco’s hips, the edge of the trail of hair leading to his crotch. “Electric?”

Draco swears, fingers running through Harry’s hair and finding a grip, hard. “If you don’t put your mouth on me right now I swear I — yes.”

He spreads his thighs to accommodate Harry between them, one hand gripping Harry’s hair and the other curled around the cushion over his head. It is electric, the way Harry knows exactly which buttons to push, sliding a finger inside him while keeping him on his tongue. He’s a prodigy in this too, the star player who knows every move in the playbook that is Draco’s body.

It feels like no time at all, no effort at all before Harry is pulling back, dragging Draco closer by the waist and working himself inside. The feel of it, the sound of them together, the look into Harry’s open gaze, his sweat dripping onto Draco’s chest and his hands underneath Draco’s back, holding him, pulling him onto him, have Draco nearing release almost too fast for his liking, but the night is young and it’s been so long that he lets himself go, a cord snapping in his core, eyes open as he watches Harry watch him come apart.

“Come on,” he says once he’s come down, lifting his hips, shifting his weight onto his shoulders. “Show me what you got, Potter.”

Harry groans and leans forward, kisses Draco’s jaw and his neck, and drives his hips faster. Draco wraps his arms around Harry’s back, moves with him as much as he can in the tight embrace, and remains close as Harry meets his own peak and tumbles down the edge.

They lie together for a couple minutes afterwards, panting into each other’s skins, basking in the afterglow.

“Some pro-athletes. We have the stamina of two eighteen year old virgins,” Draco mutters into Harry’s hair after a while, and feels Harry’s chest rumble with his laughter. The room is cast in the warm glow of the foot-lamp that stands beside the sofa they just fucked in, exactly like two eighteen year old virgins having the chance to touch for the first time in their lives.

Harry always goes boneless and slow after a good lay, so Draco eases him off his body with tenderness, a gentle hand to Harry’s chest, followed by a kiss.

“Let's go to bed, yeah?” He whispers.

Harry groans. “I don’t want to move.”

“That’s too bad, because I’m exhausted and I’m going to bed. Some idiot drove me to the ground on the pitch today.”

He stands up and shakes out his legs, testing the soreness of his muscles. There’ll be an ache tomorrow, but nothing he can’t handle.

Despite his complaint, Harry is already standing up too, coming up behind Draco, a hand finding its way to the flat of his belly, his forehead on Draco’s shoulder as though he can’t bear not to touch him for even a second.

“Bed it is,” he declares against the skin of Draco’s shoulder, sounding halfway asleep already. Draco huffs a laugh and pulls him towards the bedroom, pausing at the kitchenette to grab two glasses of water that he watches Harry drink in three gulps, a couple drops sliding down the sides of his mouth, into his beard and down his neck, his Adam’s apple bobbing.

“What?” He asks when he catches Draco watching him, and Draco shakes his head and pulls him to bed. He’s so handsome it’s genuinely upsetting sometimes. Draco thinks he’d throw a tantrum about it daily if it weren’t for the fact that he gets to touch him.

They try their best, but they don’t manage a second round before their eyes fall shut, tucked into each other like two hands cupped under a stream of water, tumbling into a satisfied, exhausted sleep.

Harry wakes him with a kiss before daybreak, the last of the night chilling the room and puckering Draco’s skin.

“Do you have to go already?” Draco asks, one eye still closed and a hand curled possessively around Harry’s bicep, not entirely on purpose.

Harry shakes his head, kisses him again with a gentleness that is meant to go nowhere but extend this kiss, warm and sweet.

“I thought we could talk.”

Draco is nodding before fully grasping the meaning, but even once he does he’s not tempted to back away. Must be the night, still cocooning them, must be Harry’s arms around him that are making him brave, but he’s not nervous anymore, not now that he’s remembered what they’re like, together.

“It is electric,” he says, suspecting that’s what Harry wants to talk about. “It’s always electric with you.”

The smile blooms slowly, lighting up Harry’s face from within, his beautiful eyes, unhidden this early in the morning, his glasses still on the bedside table. Harry sits up a little, clears his throat. It seems like he’s been gearing up for this, he’s squaring his shoulders the way he does before trying a dangerous feint, before performing a play that will have Draco biting dust. This insane, wonder of an athlete. Draco forces himself to shake the last of the sleep away, to focus on him, on what he wants to say.

“I know that … so many of us want you,” Harry starts. “On your team, on mine, the whole league, actually. But I —”

He looks like he’s stating an absolute truth, like he has irrefutable proof, and Draco is taken aback. He knows some of the guys find him attractive, but that’s not the same as being wanted. He shakes his head. “What? Where did you get that?”

“I’ve talked about it with the guys, but that’s not the point,” he adds hurriedly when he sees his eyes widen. Draco hasn’t said a word to anyone, not out of shame, but out of sureness that they were sneaking around, that they were making it a point to hide. Apparently, he was wrong. Harry continues, “What I want to say is … I know we’ve not agreed on anything, that you’re free to want others, be with whoever you want to be with. I thought that you knew where I stood, that if you weren’t saying anything it was because you didn’t want the same thing I did, but it’s been brought to my attention that if I’ve not made an honest offer, I can’t assume you’re saying no.”

Draco’s heart is hammering inside his chest, inside his throat. He doesn’t want to jump to conclusions, but if he’s right, it seems Harry is saying …

“I don’t want this to be a once a month thing. I want to bring you home, I want you to meet my family, and I want the guys to know that I’m saying no to all the people they set me up with because I’m taken and completely uninterested in anyone else. Are you … is that something you want, too? I know you might have better offers, but I – ”

The covers crinkle under Draco’s knees as he sits up, throws a leg over Harry’s body so he can fully sit on his lap and brings him forward by the neck.

“You beautiful idiot. What could be a better offer? Why would I care about any other offers when I have the best one right here?”

They’re kissing, and Harry’s gasping, and Draco’s frenzied heart pounds against his sternum. He nods into the kiss, feels dizzy with how much he wants what’s being offered. Fuck. There’s nothing he wants more.

Harry pulls back a little, whispers: “Does this mean we’re — ?”

“Yes, fuck. It’s — The game’s the game.”

“What — That doesn’t make any sense.”

“Shut up. It’s your quote.”

Then they’re laughing into a new kiss, and it’s not the first, or even the tenth time they’re together like this, but Draco’s heart still goes crazy for this man, for his unlimited talent, his openness, his electric company. Quarter finals are coming up, then semis, then they might meet again on the pitch and Draco might lose and throw a strop and want to tear the hair out of his head over the beautiful Quidditch Harry plays, and then they’ll get to go home and celebrate a victory. No matter who takes the trophy. That’ll be the game.

Read On Ao3

[the-s1lly-corner]

Hi!! this is my first time requesting anything but i was wondering if you could do creepypasta boys were you kiss / compliment there scars!

Kissing their scars (various crp)

Bro I scratched my skin right next to this burn last week and it HURTS so bad

Characters: Jeff the Killer, Ticci Toby, Eyeless Jack

Notes: Reader is GN, fluff, these boys need help

CWs: talks of violence in.. well all of them, mentioned of self harm in Jeff's part

Jeff

You decide to kiss the gashes in his cheeks, the ones that he carved.. he never really viewed them as anything very negative; sure it reminds him of the night he killed his entire gamily.. a fact he has a very wishy washy feeling of guilt over depending on the day

At first he thinks you're trying to kiss his cheeks but you make it very clear what you're trying to do when you begin to compliment them- they've healed so well since theyve been put there

Between the three he tries to play it off the most, of course it looks nice- they make him beautiful, and he always will be beautiful! What are you talking about reader?

Hes not at all willing to be vulnerable around you, it doesnt matter how long you two know each other or how close you get he never.. really let's himself just be in his feelings around others

But just know that hes going to be sitting in bed tonight looking up at the ceiling replaying what you've said and going back over the events that lead him here- rare moment of self reflection essentially

But to your face.. hes just the same as hes always been, even teasing you for having such a huuuge crush on him- bonus if the two of you are already dating

Eyeless Jack

You rarely ever get to see him without the mask, but when you do.. it's best not to do something like this the first time you see his eye sockets- hes very cagey about his face in the first place and hes not quiet ready to handle more attention drawn to it. The first few times it's off it's best to meet it with indifference

But when more time passes, you're more than welcome to test the waters. You already knew Jack had a fair collection of scars, but there was a different feel to the burned and gashed holes where his eyes would have been

He wont let you kiss him, mostly because hes unsure of what exactly the goo was made of, as well as naturally not liking the idea of someone putting their mouth where his eyes just to be- but you're allowed to trace your fingers along the scar tissue

Hes never going to tell you what happened unless theres a reason to, hes very firm when setting this boundary. It's just something that makes him feel.. gross..

He already doesn't talk much but he becomes silent as you trace your fingers and talk to him

He might go back to wearing his mask all the time again for a while but it's not exactly your fault, it was just a huge step- it's okay to back up a bit to process things

Ticci Toby

Due to his CIPA he has a bit of a disconnect between him and his injuries, scars included. He didnt really feel them when they were being made, sure he may have felt some pressure depending on what caused it but other than that, nothing really.. for a lot of them he doesnt have much thoughts- neither good nor bad

The only ones that really make him feel something are the ones he sustained from the crash- they're scattered across his body...

If you kissed or complimented any other scar he would tease you for being a little "weird", even making it a game to guess where he got the current scar from- with outlandish answers of course

But the second you reach one of /those/ scars the fun is immediately cut, you can tell theres something off

Similar to Jack, its something that has to be eased into due to the weight associated with the injuries. It's not the fact that it hurt when he got them but they serve as a reminder of what he lost

The only one who really tries to change the subject, perhaps by asking if you have any scars or markings on your body or simply changing the subject all together

Probably the only one who wouldn't want to be complimented due to the nature of some of his scars

[yandere-sins]

Okay so I feel a bit silly about this, but I just have to ask at some point. To keep it short, I wonder if Dr Ratio has already had his first time and if he even has sex often. I mean he is a grown adult at all. Don't see me as a horny Dr Ratio simp, I'm just interested and little things like that always make me like a character even more. I would be happy if you would answer this question :)♡

Why feel silly? We love all kinds of sexual status here, especially when it's someone as delicious as Ratio! Also, I appoint you simp from now on, because we should be simping for him (but don't be like me and have him in your team just for aesthetics bc my Ratio makes no damage at all! :D And that's okay... :'D)

As wonderful as our Doc is, this is a very open-to-interpretation question. You can honestly go both ways with him, and we'll never know because... he probably wouldn't even tell or show any signs to his darling how much experience he has once he gets with them ;)

Maybe he is a virgin and a very stoic and pathetic one at that. In his pursuit of making knowledge more accessible to every "idiot", there isn't much time for personal needs. I totally see him pass out from sleep deprivation despite being horny and then suppress his morning wood with a cold shower, even though he's really not happy about it. No one knows why he's so upset, but they all avoid him on mornings like that. There's no way he never put a hand on himself in all these years, but he won't know the blessing that comes when someone else does it, until he meets his darling.

It's an instant game over for him, Veritas unable to form a complete sentence when he first meets you, his cock springing up, precum staining his clothes. It threatens to burst out of his pants, hard and agitated and in desperate need to be treated to its first experience of intercourse. He tries to play it cool with a faint blush on his cheeks, tries his usual spiel of pretending he's better than you after catching his composure immediately, always gauging your reactions and wanting to see them to fuel his desire. All while completely hiding the fact that he wants to drop to his knees and hump your feet.

That night, jerking off is more like ripping off as he just can't stop the thoughts of you invading his mind and making him hard again and again. His whole bed is sullied, the tissue box empty, the Doctor is panting and blushing and immediately reminded of how plump and soft your lips were. Or your ass as you walked away from him. The sparkle in your eyes and the few exposed spots of skin in your outfit. And then his thoughts are going wild with you bent over on his bed, exposing yourself to him, your giggles and moans replaying in his ears, although he made all of them up. Honestly, he's a bit ashamed afterward for losing his composure quite like that.

It doesn't make him any less pathetic when he finally gets his hands on you. You might be fighting and hating him, but he tied you up exactly the way he needs so he can fuck your thighs or pry your pretty lips open to stuff your mouth with his thick cock. And you never disappoint him in that regard. You'll still be as amazing, making him cum almost instantly the first few times, after being with him for years. Ratio will still yearn for the warmth of your body around his dick decades down the line, and he'll greet you with the same enthusiasm (just more stamina and better technique) every time he comes home to you. You two really grow together; isn't that sweet? ;)

OR

Man's still stoic and pathetic, but not with all those partners he had over the years, oh no. It's really bothersome to him to actually let one of those groupies get a piece of his cake, and he doesn't do it because his mind wants to. But it's just normal to fulfill a need he has, right? Veritas doesn't bed some random person (who found him super hot and practically ogled him all evening) for pleasure or enjoyment. Even less for payment, though some people try to buy his time and affection.

In short, he's a miserable lover.

We should feel bad for the people thinking he's going to blow their minds. It's not like he hurts them or anything, but he does his thing and leaves, telling anyone who's confused and dissatisfied that he didn't enjoy it much, either. He got to finish; that's all that matters to him. He's really awful to these poor souls; we can't deny it.

But then he met you, and everything changed. You are constantly on his mind, the underside of his table stained with remnants of cum as he savagely had to jerk himself up to free his thoughts again. But it doesn't really help, and he imagines doing things with you on his table, books, honestly, everywhere. Ratio has to flee any function if someone there happens to have the same perfume as you because he cannot control himself once reminded of you. And in the bitterness of moaning your name in an empty room, his cock mangled and still hard despite previous jerk-off sessions, he decided he has to have you, just so he can get a remnant of himself back. 

He is reading up on how to be a better lover as he fingers you simultaneously, observing your reactions and even going down on you... for research, of course. No one knew he'd get drunk on bringing you pleasure. On learning that the reason you were feeling so damn good was his work. Sure, it boosts his ego, but you have no idea what it does to him to see your eyes dazed, your expression twisting. He teases you, but it gets him off quicker than anything else when you admit how good you feel. He'll be grinning from ear to ear the following day, remembering what you said, only to pretend he wasn't reveling in the memories when you catch him. He loves teasing you, kissing every part of your body while you squirm, knowing it turns him even more on than it does you. It's a good thing you need so much convincing, so he can satisfy his greed for you plenty before the real deal begins.

Suddenly, sex is so much more interesting when he does it with you, no matter how much you complain in the beginning—your moans say otherwise. You may hate him, but gods, does he love the look on your face when you're overstimulated, and Ratio is only getting started, making you arch your back as he plunges into you, your legs quivering around his head. Drawing out the act and letting you 'suffer' is so much more delicious and enjoyable than anything he had with another person before. He doesn't even wonder if it would have changed anything for his feelings had he done his research with the partners he fucked before. Only you can make his heart race, get him drunk on your juices, and look like an angel in his sheets covered in his cum. It's only you, it's only ever been you, and he'll never let that go.

Because no matter how much you simp for him, he'll always simp more for you ;)

[offbrandkyoya]

[6]

m.list next

Why is his crush coming to practice? Kageyama had not the slightest clue.

Kageyama is starting to freak out. He still feels embarrassed about what happened in the classroom. “Earth to Kageyama!” Hinata jumps up and down, waving his hand in front of his partner's face. “Stop thinking about milk-chan and focus on the game!”

Tsukishima overhears and scowls, “You know it’s weird calling them ‘milk-chan’ out loud, right?” Hinata shrugs. “So?” “What do you mean, so? It’s fucking weird.” “You’re weird!” “What?” Yamaguchi stands between them with a sigh. "Hinata, don’t provoke Tsukki.”

The ginger sticks out his tongue while Tsukishima rolls his eyes. Kageyama doesn’t react to the small argument that happened and simply walks the other way. “Okay boys, get in formation!” Coach Ukai shouts, and the boys go into position.

Kageyama is going to serve first instead of Asahi. ‘Maybe hitting this spike will let my feelings out.’ He lets out a breath before tossing the ball up, running a few steps forward, and hitting the ball right across the net. He gets the point, and he goes to hit again.

Another point, and Kageyama hits once more. Nishinoya digs for it, and Tanaka goes to pass to Sugawara to set. Daichi hits the ball, and Asahi goes to dig it up. This goes on for a while before taking a break.

Kageyama huffs, exhausted from playing. He hears someone shuffling next to him, but he’s too tired to tell them to shoot away.

“Milk-chans here!” Hinata whispers in his ear, and Kageyama immediately straightens up. His eyes dart across the gym until they land on his crush, talking to Yachi about who knows what.

They notice his stare, and they wave. Kageyama's cheeks flush and stand frozen. “Wave back, idiot.” Tsukishima mutters close to his ear. Kageyama does so, and his crush smiles more than ever.

They start to walk towards him, which starts freaking him out. “You’re really good.” They say, and Kageyama stutters, “U-Uh, T-Thanks, um...” He looks to the floor nervously. “I wanted to check on you.” His heart flips and flops. “I’m sorry for showing up out of the blue.” They explain, and Kageyama isn’t processing anything at all.

“Since you were struggling with English, I came to see if you had time to study. I was worried about you.” Hearing that, steam comes out of Kageyama's face. “I hope volleyball isn’t getting in the way.” They continue. Kageyama's words are incoherent, and the rest of the boys stare in disbelief.

“Kageyama is embarrassing himself.” Hinata says it with a pout. “They seem into it.” Tsukishima snickers, and Yamaguchi sighs in response. Daichi steps forward and pats Kageyama's back with a chuckle. “Do you need to borrow him for a minute?”

Their cheeks flush, and they shake their hands. “I was just asking if he wanted to study with me! I understand if he can’t because he needs to be here for volleyball.” “I see.” Daichi’s hands go on his hips. “Unfortunately, we need Kageyama since we have a practice match soon.” “I understand.”

They smile at Kageyama. “I’ll leave you alone now. Have fun; I’m rooting for you.” Those words replay in the boy's head, and his face gets even redder if that were possible. “R-Rooting for me?” “Mhm!” They confirm, and he almost passes out. Tanaka was thankfully there to stand him back up.

“Why don’t you study at his place?” Ennoshita suggests, after walking over, making sure Kageyama doesn’t fall again. The group stared at him in awe. “Yes!” Hinata jumps up and down. “You can study at Kageyama's house! He lives practically alone.” Kageyama comes back to his senses and kicks Hinata's side. “Shut up, dumbass!”

They smile wide. “That’s great! Is that okay, Kageyama? I’d love to be with you today.” The boys stared at them upon hearing those words. The guys looked at Kageyama's reaction, and sure enough, the poor boy was losing it.

Kageyama’s mouth is wide open, and his cheeks are glowing red. “Y-Yeah…that’s…okay…” They giggle, “Great! I’ll wait for you then.” They say farewell and leave the gymnasium.

“Kageyama has a date.” Sugarawa chuckles, and Kageyama falls to the floor, startling the boys and panicking if he just stopped breathing.

im hungry

chat i wanna see sxf code white so bad or I’m JUMPING 😭😭😭😭😭😭

loid forger save me…save me loid forger…

@karma-gisa @cosmiicdust @abcdefghijklmzopqrstuvwxyz @writing-for-the-hell-of-it @xmagik @tnazips @zhochikennugget @makkir0ll