#idk. it’s a thing. i know others feel it but it feels so freaky!!!

[mihii-i]

Pookie come here I have the greatest oneshot request idea known to women kind

Y’a know those edits where it’s a wlw Genshin ship with their Honkai look-alikes but in one of the games they’re tragic and in the other they’re happy? Imagine that but with Arlecchino and her Harbinger reader 🤭

Like imagine Pierro asks Arlecchino for help with some weird mission or smth that involves looking into other universes and then boom she sees the most heartbreaking angsty yuri plot but it’s literally just herself and the woman she’d die for

Even better if they kill each other or smth silly like that

Comfort ending tho pretty please 🙏🏻 (not for the other Arle and reader tho PFFT- so like bittersweet I think? Idk up to you pookie)

your wish is yours to keep.

CW: sfw, female reader, heavy angst, blood, war, violence, mostly from arlecchino’s pov, wlw, harbinger reader, mentions of death, yes reader fucking dies again, tragedy, I’m very evil kitty writing this, wife for both arle and reader, arlecchino actually crying omg, arle’s real name used yk the drill, fluffy at the end, guys I love writing sfw more than nsfw is that obvious, I am not feeling freaky deaky my apologies for the nsfw likers that didn’t get much detail on my recent nsfw fics, yum yum angst, my fave thing to write is angst, not proofread.

Pairings: arlecchino x fem!reader

A/N: it’s been a WHILE since I’ve written for arlecchino and honestly I miss herrrr so I’d also like to apologize for the requests that marinated in my ask box for too long because IM SO SORRY I HAVE LIKE 40 but nevertheless I hope those who were older followers and miss my arle content get fed <3 🕯️

Peculiar.

Peculiar was the only word to describe the circumstances in which Arlecchino found herself at the foot of an unending hall, the bellowing noise of her heels hitting the polished marble lingering like a frozen demand that thumped in rhythm with her heart upon each step forward toward Pierro. Everything in the hall remained frozen over in heavy blankets of snow, clouding the area in a heaping white embrace to accompany the stings of frigid air assaulting her.

The gentle scrape of another figure’s feet descending onto the marble followed Arlecchino’s painstakingly slow pace, your own rustling coat, which matched that of the fourth harbinger’s, draped over you in a thick fluff of black fur outlining the back of your neck. Alongside the white silk falling over the rest of your body, center held together at your torso as the metal of the signature Fatui crest peeking from behind the grayish lapels of your coat.

You couldn’t exactly pinpoint when or why you had taken the position as the sixth harbinger, every time you attempted to recall any coronation of sorts, you could only piece together a blur of jumbled words. As if your memory had been twisted. From what you could at the very least remember, the position of the sixth harbinger had been an empty slot, waiting for a worthy member to slip into the voided imbalance of power within the Fatui.

Arlecchino’s coat shifted uncomfortably as she masked her arms adjusting into a firm front before Pierro, the gleaming crosses on her eyes fixed on the Jester in a deathly silence. Pierro’s singular visible eye bore into the harbinger with what seemed to be a weight of intense scrutiny, icy tones of blue beholding a negative energy you couldn’t quite put your finger on. Worry? Hate? Judgement?

“Ah. The Knave and her wife.” Pierro finally shattered the silence with his flattened tone, taking in a breath to ease himself as he reclined his back to the tall chair towering behind him. Resting his chin on his knuckles as blond streaks of his goatee leaned along the dark glove, he attempted to strike out his usual firm and authoritative tone, all the while maintaining some sort of professionalism in his criticism.

“Arlecchino, I thought we agreed that this task would involve you alone. Not the sixth harbinger as company.”

She furrowed her brows, biting her tongue through her closed blood red lips.

“I didn’t see why I couldn’t. She’s not too far off in the ranks. The circumstances should be suitable for her to come along with me.”

“They’re not. I can assure you that much, Knave.”

His hand that presided beneath his chin slid forward along the circular table, expression staring daggers into his two subordinates stood in a disgustingly close space. Pierro’s coat sleeve brushed along the pearly white of the stone table, biting back the exasperated sigh he so desperately wanted to heave out at the sheer foolishness of what Arlecchino thought she could get away with. She couldn’t be attached to you. Not for this.

“Listen. This mission isn’t meant for two people. Nor does it mean that you can handle it through your physical strength alone.

The Jester’s gaze snapped over to you, even through his eyepiece, that intimadation digging in to seal your airways, freeze every drop of blood coursing through your veins with his commands was nothing short of the Fatui director’s abilities. Shrinking back in compliance, you headed back into the shadowy fogs of the corridor’s entrance, tense with each step back as you could practically feel his eyes on you with every waking moment, scanning every little step you took until the gates parted into the deep cold.

Parting her lips to breathe out a sigh, Arlecchino slumped down into the cushions of the fashionably crafted seats below her, elbows resting along the rugged stone as her nails drew out a few high pitched clinks with each tap like porcelain. Her seat was directly across from Pierro’s on opposing sides, as if the gravity of the situation she remained shrouded in the dark about kept itself as a wavering reminder of fear in the depths of the unknown.

“Are you prepared, Knave?”

Despite the openly austere front he had walled up to drive you out of the hall, his words tinged with a speck of concern in regards to Arlecchino, attempting to solidify his decision in what she would see for the sake of such a simple, yet difficult mission to dive through. In fact, it was clear that although what she was tasked with was no harder than asking a toddler to go count flower petals.

Yet the seemingly effortless and straightforward task of peeping into different universes to gather a solid probability of the Fatui gaining all seven gnoses came with a mind breaking cost. One of which would freeze the stone cold Knave herself in the sights of a full new level of hell she would have to trudge through.

Pierro- no, everyone at this point was well aware of the inseparable nature of yours and Arlecchino’s relationship. Her unyielding nature barring a sturdy wall of protection that surrounded you under any condition that called for it, a rather oddly new trait that was invoked by your presence from the otherwise ‘heartless’ harbinger.

It was fairly surprising whenever Arlecchino was cooped up beside you within the comforting confines of your shared home, snuggled up with you on her chest as one or the other scanned their eyes across the thick sheets of a book, while a steaming cup of tea sat on the glass table sat in front of the sofa. Any other member would assume she had business to take care of that involved some sort of violent slash, when it reality, it was nothing but cuddling up to her wife on the couch.

No matter what, the surging depth of Arlecchino’s bond could stun even the highest of the harbingers. As such a pure, profound budding flower of love that arose from the stems of your chests was utterly impossible in the ugly nature of this mortal realm. Yet it was quite beautiful to witness, much less ponder upon, how two people’s souls were so deeply entangled within one another to where they remained true to themselves, yet attached to the other in a way to which they became complete.

Neither you, nor Arlecchino would doubt that the two of you would remain together across every universe in the endless stream of possibilities, to which a physical manifestation of your love could swim around in rather than drown in the never ending sea.

“Arlecchino. I must warn you to just..mentally prepare yourself for what you’re about to see. All I can say is..it’s not pleasant.”

“I can handle it.”

“I’m not sure that would be true.”

She scoffed at his words, lowering her eyes as a frown crossed her features.

“Do you believe I’m weak, Jester? I’ve handled worse before.”

“It’s not that. This isn’t a matter of whether your body is strong or durable enough. In fact, it’s if your mind can handle seeing your worst fear over and over.”

He paused, resuming his words to provide information regarding her multiversal travel.

“You can’t interact with anything you see. Nor can they see you. You are merely a spectator…a ghost of sorts.”

“Hm. Does the method of transportation have something to do with Irminsul?”

“Not exactly. Although there may be a different version of Irminsul than the one you know in our Teyvat.” Pierro inhaled, pondering the most ideal way to phrase the complex plethora of information. “You’ll be sent to different universes, different..versions of Teyvat I’d say. Each one, you make a mental note of how many times we are able to successfully achieve all of the gnoses.”

She nodded firmly, her voice unwavering in low, resolute response as Pierro’s solemn look seemed to be disregarded by the absolute tone of voice she had asserted, believing herself to be fully capable of the horrors of her task. After all, she has seen many she’s cared about slip away at her fingertips on many occasions. What could possibly be worse?

You.

You could be worse.

Arlecchino didn’t want to lose you. Not for a second.

—

The world above blurred together into an unintelligible gradient of colorful patterns blended like a work of art, the beauty which Arlecchino took wonder again suddenly broken by a sharp ache spreading across every inch of her body. Shooting her eyes open, her pulse vibrated against her neck in protruding shoves against her skin, lashes fogging her vision as floods of pale sunlight sunk into her bright pupils.

Hands planted into the earth, she weakly hoisted herself up in the familiar drag of Teyvat’s soul along her palm, strands of white hair unkempt and falling over her face as she swerved her head around with caution. Nothing looked out of the ordinary. Could it be possible that Pierro didn’t succeed in catching a glimpse of any other universe? However he managed to do that anyway…

Blinking her eyes open, Arlecchino finally caught a clear view of the world around her. Tranquil, basking in the serenity of a soul not in sight within the planes of nature as gentle hums of the breeze cradled the surrounding landscape. If this was what she had to investigate, then Pierro’s warning must have just been false panic stirred up to simply drive her into setting her eyes on the task at hand.

A speck of red suddenly bloomed along the once blue sky.

Then another.

What felt like mere moments plunged into the world she stood in being ripped apart in an instant, pulled forcefully open to engulf her in the now drowned out cries and screams of a war littered field, blood steeled along the blades of once swaying grass replacing the small drops of dew she had seen before. Arlecchino was no stranger to violent conflict, that was for sure. With ease, she carefully stepped through the worn down fields, scattered with the rusted steel of discarded weapons.

Her leg stretched past the limp bodies in a sickening array as to not kick the dead, mangled forms neatly laid out—as if war itself had created an artwork itself encompassing its fury. Quickly, Arlecchino had suppressed her internal disgust to keep her eyes ahead, navigating through the blinding flames swallowing Snezhnaya—likely Teyvat itself, whole.

The screams those impaled in spurts of blood trickling onto the metal to then clatter to the floor were nothing but white noise blocked out in Arlecchino’s head, no matter how gruesome the awful sight of their guts stomped on appeared to her. Pity welling up within her was nothing but weakness, a fate she could not save them from as it mattered naught to Arlecchino in the intense rampage. People die, sometimes you couldn’t save them. That was a lesson she had adhered to for years, holding back was simply the sneak of weakness that tried to leave one vulnerable, and a profession such as one in the Fatui required a ruthless front. One she couldn’t put down.

However, her fear couldn’t remain bottled up for long, as Pierro had warned her of succumbing to weakness. And as if luck had steered clear of her favor, sending a tower of bricks tumbling down onto her, she had been forced to stare helplessly at her own weakness.

“Arle..please..” your hoarse sighed out as dribbles of crimson spilled down your chin in a heavy downpour streaming from your chest, the sight of a gleaming scarlet scythe lodged into your body making Arlecchino freeze in horror. Her scythe.

Swallowing back the abrupt dread crawling up her spine upon spotting herself grasping the handle tightly, the black fades of her cursed hands now painted a vile red as she watched herself dig the scythe deeper. You still desperately clawed at Arlecchino’s shoulders like an anchor, fingers digging in to crease and fold the fabric of her blazer stuck to her shoulders in patches of sweat.

Arlecchino’s parallel self only gravitated closer to you in heavy breaths, taking your body in her arms as well as the scythe remained pierced across your other side, her nose digging into the warmth of your collarbone to savor your final moments in her arms.

“(Name)..? Dear? Is there one last wish you want from me?”

You nodded, hand weakly caressing the dusted lines of her cheek.

“Just..kiss me on the forehead and tell me we’ll be okay. Maybe in another universe?”

She sighed, choking back the small hiccup building in her throat as tears burned along the corners of her eyes. Her nails brushed along your nape in false contentment, as you smiled at her lips brushing along your forehead.

“Perhaps in another universe we’re fine. If circumstances were better we wouldn’t be here.”

Arlecchino’s whispers faded gradually, mixing into the howls of wind as yet another breeze that screeched in accordance with each stab of a spear through someone’s ribs. She could only kneel to the ground as she wordlessly grasped your lifeless body like a vice, breathing shaky and ragged with each moment of what she had to do replaying in her head over and over in the repeat of a broken record. It only served to rip out her heart piece by piece sadistically, the pain in your expression etched into her skull and ringing to torment her as the eternal crime of taking her own beloved’s life.

Even if she had to, she felt like shit.

Shallow breaths accompanied the subtle shivers that racked her body in rapid successions, Arlecchino’s eyes wide and hands trembling at the sight of herself hemming your lifeless body in her arms. Finally, she understood the horrors of what she had to trudge through for the sake of a simple task, the heat eating away at her sanity, drying through clothing to burn away at her skin like a manifestation of rage, sorrow, fear, everything that swirled together in her head upon seeing your corpse stained with blood.

Lightless eyes bore into her own as Arlecchino stared at the memory that would forever be seated into her like an accompanying curse, her eyes unable to look away at the way your body was laid besides a singular living lakelight lily on the field no matter how badly she wanted to. Thankfully, even as a small wash of relief for your very corpse’s peace in this god awful universe, she was grateful you were laid beside a singular living flower, away from all the fighting bellowing through the throes of battle off in the distance.

Watching as the other Arlecchino gently masked your eyelids shut, bidding you to rest as she stood up to dart back into the field, Arlecchino stepped forward to kneel beside you. Her translucent body simply ghosted through your splayed out arm, frustration boiling with her as she repeatedly attempted to hold you in her arms, before recalling Pierro’s statement that she couldn’t interact with the other universe, nor could they see her.

“What made you seek death like this my love..?”

She wept silently, that same unfeeling expression locked onto her face through the trickling salty tears staining her cheeks like that of an angel of grief. Unable to understand the motivation for you wanting her to kill uou was natural after all, the details of this universe’s memories and information was all altered in this universe’s Irminsul, yet she didn’t have the heart to check. Not after what she saw just now. She didn’t want to be plunged into an agony of truth just yet.

No matter what your reason could have been, Arlecchino would understand. It must have been painful for this other Arlecchino to come to terms with it, especially if it was in fact her with the same feelings and thoughts. Of course she had carried out every request and wish from you, so who would she be to deny this one? Especially for the greater good of your lives.

In every universe, your wish is yours to keep.

Her lingering kiss ghosted through your forehead only left an empty hole gaping in her chest through the sweltering flames she wasn’t supposed to feel, breaths shaky and jagged as she rose back to her feet to make her way through to any Fatui establishment left intact.

They failed here. The gnoses were not obtained.

—

“In 23 out of 47 universes, we succeed.”

“Understood. Meaning we have nothing short of a decent chance here. Thank you for your cooperation, Knave.”

She huffed out of acknowledgment, sweat pooling up along the corner of her head as she hid her shaky hands in her coat. Pierro, who had taken notice of this, didn’t make it a priority to pry further, pitying the woman who had underwent a flurry of emotions based on varying outcomes from various universes. He had decided to give her some space as he had warned her, dipping his head in acknowledgment of her success.

“You’re dismissed now.”

Arlecchino delivered a brisk nod, yet her swift energy in the nod remained contradictory to her being drained from the inside, everything she had seen of you two opening a pit of despair dropped at her stomach.

Her already soulless eyes beheld an overwhelming tempest of agony, the abrupt cold air batting along her cheek leaving her unfazed as she stared down at the thick snow bundled below her feet, imprints left with each hollow step she crunched into the white blanket over Snezhnaya. The cold’s sting was but a pinch now, passing the pain she had underwent in her own personal hell, no pain could compare to seeing the woman she loved, the woman she’d die for happy in one moment, and dead in the blink of an eye.

By the time she had reached the hotel room that was accommodated for both Arlecchino and you—courtesy of the Jester for your stay in Snezhnaya for the the mission, she only scanned along the patterns of the wooden door in search of something she wasn’t even sure of, blinking rapidly as her draining exhaustion crept up on her. You opened the door to greet your shell of a wife, staring aimlessly at the floor to your concern.

You couldn’t help but notice the dark circles lined beneath her eyes, complimenting her faded lipstick in small tones of pink to accompany the once deep red. Her hair was messed over from her usual well combed style as the thin ponytail behind her draped loose to the bottom, slightly exposing more stray strands peeking out from behind her neck.

“Uh- Arle are you-? Woah!”

Arlecchino’s uncharacteristic hug had thrown you off guard, eyes wide as the other harbinger’s arms pulled you to her in a tidal wave like embrace, nose digging into the crook of your neck.

“I missed you.”

“I- uh- missed you too! But what’s with the sudden hug, dear?”

“Nothing.”

It took quite a bit of strength to pry the stronger woman off of you, grasping her shoulders as you stared back at her signature deadpan expression, now fresh with tear cracks running down her cheeks.

“Wait, Arle..are you crying?”

“I am not.”

“I can literally see a few tears on that dead face of yours!”

“Allergies.”

“Peruere it’s fucking winter in Snezhnaya!”

You sighed, taking her hand as you shut the door behind you in a prolonged creaking noise as you beckoned her to sit on the couch beside you. Complying, the woman merely took her seat in silence, not so much as a hum elicited from her as the only audible noise in the deafening silence was the clock ticking, alongside her deep, drawn out breaths. Carefully, you pushed a small porcelain cup atop a gold rimmed plate on the table in her direction, the small squeak as the fine material scraped along the glass not being enough to cut through the silence.

“Er..I made you tea earlier for when you came back but it’s cold now..sorry.”

Arlecchino took the handle between her thumb and pointer finger, eyeing her reflection rippling in the clear, golden brown waves of the cool cup. She parted her lips in a quiet exhale, clicking her tongue against the roof of her mouth before sipping the cold tea.

“I love you, (Name). In every universe.”

Your gaze softened as you took the cup from her hands to replace with your own, touch feather light as your thumb circled the callouses of Arlecchino’s palm as they brushed along your own. The reminder of both of your professions as harbingers together.

“Arle..you don’t have to tell me what happened, but whatever did, I promise I’m not going anywhere. I love you forever and ever, okay?”

A wordless nod was all that was delivered from the white haired woman, the cross in her eyes blinding out of sight the further her eyelids dropped as she inclined to the tender embrace of her lover’s arms. Head dropping atop your chest, she pressed her cheek flush to the fabric of your clothing as close as possible, attempting to catch every little heartbeat and breath earned from the silence of her listening in.

She would protect you with all she had.

Anything to give this universe’s version of herself and the woman she adored a life of everything she could desire, one that spanned across every other multiverse that rooted and acknowledged the depth of your bond together.

A/N: OKAY OKAY first half was decent, middle was kinda trash but the third part of the fic ate so id like to say im seldom proud of this fic I’ve crafted anyway Arle fans eat well I missed feeding you guys and I haven’t written her in so long omg

Also uhhhh I kinda sorta haven’t played genshin in a really long time IM SORRY NATLAN WAS BOOTYCHEEKS I COULDNT BRINF MYSWLF TO PLAY IT HOLY SHIT I miss Fontaine but yeah this was fun to dooo <33

[lorelune]

one thing i will say is that i still do LOVE hsr, but the big lull before 3.0 (which is expected) does have me like… dragging my feet. just a little.

i have been very bluelock brained in a way that makes me worry my hyperfixation with hsr and my wives within the game is … fading?? and to be so real that is a kind terrifying feeling!!!

[thegreatyin]

this nemesis ambition started out a little slow but I am getting closer to finding that bastard who killed my wife, and I’ll not rest a minute now that im far closer to on his trail

sorry got in character for a second

Anyways fun ambition so far very fucked up though

congratulations on joining the murder club anon!!!! depending on who you ask the name refers to either people who have murdered or people who have witnessed murder. usually both. actually extremely often both. it's a swell time you'll feel right at home (don't mind our collective skyglass knife collection in the back)

[crushmeeren]

heyy idk if this is where we put requests but by any chance could you do the mha boys reacting to you putting on the pheromone perfume and you smelling hella good possibly resulting in something freaky ( denki, shinsou or bakugo) or anyone is fine🙏🏾

⋆⋅ I love this idea! I did twist this a bit, it’s basically the love potion “amortentia,” from Harry Potter but as a perfume. Why the fuck it’s so hard for me to shorten things down when I write, I have no damn idea. So here, have this. (.づ◡﹏◡)づ.

All characters aged up/18+. ❲ ̽ ⋆ FEM READER ̽ ⋆❳

⋆⋅ Between the ⋆｡ ﾟ ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ ☾ ﾟ ｡⋆ symbols are memories of reader and whichever character!

Thank you @pastelbakugou for helping me figure what to write for Shinsou. ( ˘ ³˘(◡‿◡˶)

⋆ ft. kaminari, shinsou, bakugou, todoroki ⋆

..⃗. master list link

The sickly sweet scent of vanilla ice cream infused with honey is what overwhelms Katsuki’s senses first when he leans in and hugs you in greeting. You squeeze him back just as affectionately and he’s in the middle of nosing at your throat when he’s hurtled back in time through his memories.

⋆｡ ﾟ ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ ☾ ﾟ ｡⋆

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” Katsuki mutters hotly. He’s trying, key word trying, to wipe the sweat covering his phone screen onto his tank top but it fails miserably, seeing as how his shirt is soaked fucking through. He’s more or less just smearing it around and he’s debating on just obliterating the useless piece of shit phone.

He curses whoever the fuck is up there and uses sheer willpower not to tear his hair out from the roots because of this scorching heat wave.

Finally, he’s able to read his latest message from you. It tells him to meet you at the ice cream stand nearby his patrol route on his next break.

Katsuki wipes the back of his forehead with a glove free hand, but it slides right across his sticky skin and then sweat drips into his other eye with a harsh sting and goddammit, he’s royally fucking pissed off now.

For your sake, he swallows his swelling rage and makes his way to you swiftly. The two of you have tried to make it a habit to meet a couple times a week when Katsuki has time during his shifts, he gets so busy that sometimes it gets hard to see each other as often as you’d like.

As always, his heart stutters when he lands a few feet from you. The tension drains from his shoulders even as he witnesses drops of sweat being flung off his jaw from the impact of landing and coloring the light gray pavement darker.

You look so, so pretty in your sundress and Katsuki’s stomach swoops when a sweet smile lights up your features. You reach out a cup of ice cream for him to try, teasing him for looking like he’s just taken a shower but he sticks his tongue out at you in retaliation and takes a bite of the treat. Katsuki practically moans when cool cream melts on his tongue. He feels infinitely better.

The sun beats down harshly on you both, but it brightens your eyes and the playful way you blow a coy kiss at him when you part ways leaves him with fingers crunching the empty cup and pants that fit a bit too snug. God, he’s disgustingly in love with you.

⋆｡ ﾟ ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ ☾ ﾟ ｡⋆

“Kat?” Your concerned tone brings him back to the present. Katsuki can’t stand another minute with your clothes on and hauls you up with a rough grip to the backs of your thighs. You yelp in surprise and scramble to hold onto his shoulders as he strides towards your bedroom.

“I don’t know what the hell you did to smell this way, but you’re gonna keep your eyes on me and I’m fuckin’ you until you pass out. Understood?”

How could you ever hope to say no?

When you’re both naked and tangled in the sheets, Katsuki pushes one of your legs to your chest, curls his fingers around your throat, and pushes his forehead against yours as he stretches your tight pussy out completely with his thick cock. He stays true to his word, hand gripping your jaw and forcing your eyes to stay locked with his own ferocious stare when you grit your teeth and cum.

Then he kisses your forehead afterwards when you’re fast asleep.

Muscle memory tilts Shouto’s head to the side as he leans closer to sniff you curiously, an adorable habit that he’s never been able to break when he wants answers to something.

“What is that?”

“What is what, Sho?”

“You smell like the end of a campfire. Why?”

You raise an eyebrow and saunter closer to where he sits at his desk, his office quiet with most heroes currently out of the building. You step around the corner of his desk and hop up on the edge to sit next him, feet kicking gently.

“That’s important to you? A campfire? Huh I would’ve thought you’d smell something like soba,” you comment with a shrug, half smile tugging at your lips.

Now Shouto’s thoroughly confused.

“I don’t understand. Why would you smell of soba? Are you alright?” Shouto sounds as deadpan as usual, if not slightly concerned. He crosses his arms over his chest and leans back in his chair, staring at you as if he could find the answer by checking out your body. It makes you laugh.

Animatedly, you explain to him about the new “perfume,” Mina let you try. Apparently, whoever wears it prompts the object of their affections to smell whatever scent is important/attractive to them. And suddenly Shouto gets it

“Oh, I see,” he says with an understanding nod. He can narrow it down specifically as to why you smell of a campfire on a cold night.

⋆｡ ﾟ ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ ☾ ﾟ ｡⋆

“Sho, are you sure we can’t just use your quirk to roast these marshmallows? It’s so much faster!” You protest halfheartedly, but you’re already stabbing one of the fluffy sweets with a stick, assembling a second one for Shouto.

“No. This will be more fun, I promise. I watched Touya-nii and the others do this once, it seemed as if they were very happy afterwards.” Shouto flicks his hand and fire shoots towards the pile of sticks, engulfing them until a decent fire roars.

This sobers you considerably, and Shouto sits down next to you, accepting the offering of marshmallow on a stick happily and oblivious to the depressing sentiment he just offered.

So, you roast marshmallows. You tease each other and laugh as you assemble the s’mores and then lean into Shouto’s left side to fend off the chill of the autumn night afterwards. The stars are brighter away from the city and Shouto has always enjoyed the quiet of the countryside. His heart is close to bursting from his chest every time you laugh and he blurts what’s on his mind.

“I love you.”

It comes out of nowhere and Shouto only feels nervous for a few seconds before you return his feelings. Shouto’s dragging you into the tent before you can blink.

⋆｡ ﾟ ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ ☾ ﾟ ｡⋆

In hindsight, at least to Shouto, he understands exactly why you smell like a campfire. With slightly rosy cheeks and a matter of fact tone, he recounts the memory for you and he’s sure his hair’s about to catch fire from the way you’re looking at him.

Without caring to lock the door, the two of you end up reliving part of that memory.

Shouto pushes you until you’re flat on your back on his desk, sliding your pants off and making sure your ass is on the edge of it. He drops to his knees and eats your pussy until your thighs squeeze his head.

And when you beg him to fuck you, he bends you over the desk and presses his cock inside you roughly. The snaps of his hips are frantic, and when there’s a knock at the door, all Shouto does is cover your mouth with one hand and keep going until you’re seeing stars.

“Denki!”

Said blonde whips around at the muffled call of his name. Denki feels his smile aching in the apples of his cheeks as he watches you weave through the crowd of people on the dance floor to get to him. You grin in return and wave warmly, which makes his pulse run overtime.

“Baby!” Denki almost squeals, yanking you in for a crushing hug when you get close enough. “You made it! I thought you got lost,” he says teasingly against your ear and you lean back to laugh and punch him in the arm. You crowd into his space once again so he can hear you but an overpowering and delicious scent of coffee and rain pushes up Denki’s nose.

He startles, head jerking back and brows shooting up. Your expression turns questioning but Denki cuts you off before you can speak.

“Holy shit baby, you smell super good. Like, fucking amazing! What are you wearing? It makes me want to rip your clothes off,” He says enthusiastically, tangling your hands together in the process.

“Oh! It’s this new perfume. Well, technically it’s not a perfume but honestly I didn’t think it would work! I assumed it was a scam.” You give him a run down of how it’s supposed to work and he suddenly comes to the realization of why you smell like coffee and rain of all things that could be important to him.

⋆｡ ﾟ ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ ☾ ﾟ ｡⋆

“Oww,” Denki whines, sticking his tongue out and fanning it quickly.

“Did you burn your tongue?” You bump his shoulder playfully, taking care not to spill your own coffee. “I told you it would be hot, it’s a latte Denki,” you scold him good naturedly, trying not to laugh. He pouts at you, blowing into the lid in hopes to cool it off.

“Well I didn’t expect it to be the surface temperature of the sun!” Denki protests, gingerly taking another sip and humming in contentment when he finds it’s cooled off enough to be drinkable. You laugh again, but then Denki almost runs into your back when you stop abruptly in front of the glass door exit.

“It’s raining! Shit, I didn’t bring an umbrella. How are we supposed to make it back to the station?”

Denki studies the way it’s pouring cats and dogs, before making a noise of triumph and pointing to a bench under an awning not too far away.

“We can go wait for a bus over there!”

You side eye him. “Fine, but if I spill my coffee, you’re buying me a new one.”

The two of you take off, and in true Denki fashion, he trips and spills his coffee everywhere. By the time you both make it to the awning, you’re both soaked to the bone and breathless from laughing.

“Here,” you offer Denki your coffee with a grin, water dripping from the ends of your hair.

“You don’t have to share baby, I’m fine.”

“Yeah, yeah I do. I love you, Denki.”

Your boyfriend short circuits.

“Dammit Denki! Those were the only two lampposts on this street, now I can’t see anything!”

⋆｡ ﾟ ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ ☾ ﾟ ｡⋆

Denki blinks the memory away and spins you, pulling your back flush to his chest. His body is a long, lean line of muscle as he moves your bodies to the beat and murmurs in your ear.

“Let me take you home and show you just how well this perfume works on me, my dick is hard as a fucking rock baby,” Denki giggles, squeezing your hips when you shove your ass back into his pelvis.

The two of you abandon your friends quick enough to race home, stripping carelessly in your living room until Denki can bend you over the armrest of the couch. He guides his cock inside you unhurriedly, pushing until his pelvis is nestled snug to your ass.

A breathy moan escapes him, and then he’s fucking your pussy as if he could never get enough.

He never will.

Hitoshi’s exhausted when he gets home from work late that night. Being an underground hero is rewarding, but it certainly comes with its downfalls.

He closes the front door delicately and toes off his shoes by the door. It doesn’t take long for him to make his way down the hall and into your bedroom, a tiny half smile worming its way into his expression despite his bone aching weariness when he spots you sound asleep in bed. He pauses to stare at you for a moment.

Hitoshi then showers as fast as humanly possible before crawling under the blankets and curling an arm around your waist, tugging you close until he can nose at the back of your neck. You sigh in your sleep and smuggle closer into his embrace.

Hitoshi trails his nose down the side of your neck and he freezes once he gets to your shoulder. You smell….good. Insanely fucking good, and he can’t quite pinpoint the specific scent but it’s soft and warm and maybe even a little musky. It sends warm blood rushing south and his cock twitches with interest.

He wracks his brain and the only thing he can associate with the scent is your cat, Kiko, when she was a kitten and you first brought her home.

⋆｡ ﾟ ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ ☾ ﾟ ｡⋆

Hitoshi’s in the middle of playing a game when you return home that day, calling out for him to come to the living room for a second.

“Why?” He yells back. He’s just about to finish this round.

“Just come out here you dick!”

Hitoshi rolls his eyes, but is amused nonetheless by your slightly frustrated tone. He pauses his game and makes his way to where you wait, but stops in his tracks, lips parting in shock and eyes going wide when he sees what you’re holding.

You’re cradling an itty bitty, all black, fluff ball of a kitten in your arms. You grin delightedly at his shocked expression and hold her out almost as if you’re offering her to him.

“You wanted a kitten right? An all black one, like the one you had as a kid at Aizawa’s.”

Hitoshi manages to close his mouth and nod, cautiously reaching out to take the small creature and cradle her to his chest.

He…can’t believe you remembered. You remembered how much his cat had meant to him and went out of your way to find this kitten.

“Thank you,” he says softly, petting the purring kitten’s head with one finger. You step closer and do the same, scratching under her chin until she meows.

“What should we name her?”

“Kiko,” Hitoshi responds with no hesitation, glancing at you for approval and you smile back at him.

“I love it.”

⋆｡ ﾟ ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ ☾ ﾟ ｡⋆

Hitoshi blinks back to the present, the fond memory lingering at the edges of his mind. He remembers how his heart squeezed against his rib cage in the best kind of way that day and how he knew then he wanted to marry you.

“Baby,” Hitoshi whispers lowly as he kisses your cheek. You stir enough to lazily flip over and hum in question. “I love you, so much.”

“Mm, love you too Hitoshi,” you mumble, sleepy rasp coloring your voice.

Hitoshi bends down to kiss you sweetly, encouraging you to throw a leg over his hips and straddle his waist. He settles you on top of him and wiggles a hand between you to shove his briefs down, cock stiff since he first smelled you, and slides your panties to the side.

Your limbs are still laced heavy with sleep when Hitoshi helps you sink down on his cock. You melt into his chest, face buried in his throat and arms locked around his neck.

He bends his knees and grips your ass to help you sensually ride him, rocking up into you at a leisurely pace until the warmth finally bubbles over the edge and you cum with a shiver and he follows right behind you.

When he asks you about it the next day, it all clicks into place when you give him the watered down version of how the “perfume” works.

He hums noncommittally before asking you to wear it again.

[hamilando]

ੈ✩ nxdes? (smau) ੈ✩

pairing : charles leclerc x fem reader

summary : “have you seen my boyfriend ?” “HAVE YOU SEEN HER !?”

tw : fluff, very suggestive

a/n : So this was requested anonymously, so if you are seeing this, Hope you like it 💫

·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ✩ ･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ✩ ･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ✩ ･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡

liked by user1, user2, user3 and others

f1mommy how I feel when I feed you all thirsty socks 🧦

view comments

user1 idk what is killing me- the caption or the photos 🗿

user2 English or Spanish ?

user3 f1mommy 💀🦅

user4 charles, don’t be shy, drop it on me

user5 I want to ride carlos like he rides his bike-

user6 did she just call us socks !?

charlesleclerc can you stop leaking pictures ? I won’t hesitate to sue you

user7 oops-

user8 LORD PERCEVAL GOT SERIOUS THERE

f1mommy @ charlesleclerc you weren’t complaining when you sent me your nudes 💋

user9 AND I-

user10 is it true or -

user11 mommy, can we get the charles junior baby pics ?

user12 that’s quite a way to frame it 💀

user13 she casually dropped christian in between

f1mommy @ user13 you would need some Jesus after god hears your thoughts

user14 istg this girl has been taking sarcasm classes

f1mommy @ user14 rizzing your mama up classes

liked by user1, user2, user3 and others

f1mommy this is a Charles leclerc fan page ( minus the nudes)

view comments

user1 SHIRTLESS CHARLES !?

user2 IN HD!?

user3 I WILL BE YOUR SUGGA MOMMA F1MOMMY

f1mommy hit me up bbugurl 💋

user4 yes, you all are correct, he was talking to me in second pic

user5 serving your delusion ofc

f1mommy she serving looks atleast user4 @ f1mommy ily 😭

user5 who is she ?

user6 we don’t know, we just enjoy what mommy gives us 😮‍💨

user7 how does she get them ?

user8 she hacked their phones ?

user9 techie alert

f1mommy the only tech thing I know is incognito at night 💪🏻

user10 digital footprint ?

f1mommy you would like mine on you though ?

charlesleclerc can you stop leaking my pictures ?

f1mommy can you stop fucking me ?

liked by user1, user2, user3 and others

f1mommy me watching y’all burn your brains to guess who is me

view comments

user1 if this accounts turns out to be run by a 50 year old lady-

f1mommy you will ask me to fuck you ?

user2 just tell us who you are

user3 she has a things for dilf

f1mommy I am one myself -

user4 I will pay you 69 cents to reveal yourself

f1mommy I would prefer performing 69 💋

user5 dududuu HELL WHA-

user6 I have given up-

user7 the iconic toto

user8 Only king toto can help us

user9 I can feel the user smirking reading all the comments

user10 the person is definitely a sadist

liked by user1, user2, user3 and others

f1mommy Hi, I am yours and his mommy 🫶🏻 @ charlesleclerc

view comments

user1 WHAT ?

user2 YOU ARE CHARLE’S GIRLFRIEND !?

f1mommy yes baby girl ☺️

user3 please tell me that this is a joke

charlesleclerc now can you send me some ?

charlesleclerc after you have exposed that I am your boyfriend ?

f1mommy you have the keys, come watch it in 4D

user4 so now y’all decide to be freaky ?

user5 now Charles interacting on a fan account makes sense

user6 the pictures too

user7 so she really didn’t hack-

user8 welcome to the fam sis

f1mommy I was there way before you love 🧡

[lexalith]

FRIENDS || Choi Su-Bong (Thanos)

summary: after late-night sexting with your best friend, everything changes. the bond you thought was purely platonic starts to feel deeper. were these feelings always there, hidden beneath the surface? or did something just… click? is this the start of something real, or the beginning of a mistake that could ruin everything?

warnings: aged up female reader (they’re both in their late twenties) (MDNI), smut (masturbation, fingering, public sex, p in v, oral sex (f and m), sexting, edging, praising, unprotected sex (don’t be silly)) semi and minsu are victims of the reader’s and subong’s freakiness, angst (name calling, miscommunication, pushing, throwing things, lying, deception, fear of commitment, reader refuses to help him at some point, slapping, slutshame remarks), overuse of the words ‘fuck’ and ‘fucking’ (lmaoo), subong should be a warning himself, fwb dynamic, reader uses someone to forget subong, drug use and addiction.

a/n: i’ve never ever written anything here on tumblr before, so i don’t really know what i’m doing, help. also, english isn’t my first language, so mistakes should be present!! lowercase is intentional. this is an au with no games. text messages are in different colors (orange for the reader, purple for subong). the reader’s dialogue is in bold. mind you, this is LOOOONG (it’s a whole fic)

songs that inspired me to write this: friends — chase atlantic || back to friends — sombr || heartbeat — childish gambino || casual — chappell roan

this fic was also inspired by @jedisupernova ‘s writing, check out her page and fics!!! (they’re soooo good)

you’re still thinking about what that guy said. it wasn’t even a big deal, not really. just some random jerk at the club who’d had a few too many drinks and decided to share his unfiltered thoughts about your body. “you’re not really my type,” he’d said, like you’d asked. then he’d laughed and added, “not many guys would go for that.”

it shouldn’t bother you. you know it shouldn’t. but now, a few nights later, it’s stuck in your head, looping like a song you can’t turn off. so, lying in bed, scrolling aimlessly, you do what you always do when something’s bugging you—you text him. your best friend.

subong. are you awake?

yes ma’am. why?

i got a random question. but like, it’s not that deep

???

do you think i’m attractive?

you fire it off without overthinking, like it’s no big deal. it’s not weird to ask your best friend something like this. right?

it takes him a few minutes to reply.

what kind of question is that?

just answer

i’m too high for this shit, bro

you’re not high🙄 liar

i wish i were

omfg can you just say yes or no? please? but be honest, i promise i won’t get mad

yeah, i think u are

really?

sure thinggg, u’re hot mama

dude quit playing, i’m being serious over here

i’m not fucking playing

okay you think i’m attractive but like… what kind of attractive? cute attractive? like awwww. or i’d-fuck-you-raw attractive?

what are we even talking about

why can’t you just answer?😭

what is this for?

for my knowledge

tf is that supposed to mean?

you stare at the screen, mentally deciding whether you should tell him about what happened or not. you hadn’t told him before, not wanting to give it more attention. but this time, you decide to.

ugh, remember i went clubbing the other day? well this dude was being an asshole to me and he said some stuff and i can’t stop thinking about it so just be fucking honest and answer my question

some stuff? what stuff?

he said, and i quote ‘not many guys would go for that’. ‘that’ is me, btw💀

who tf is this dude?

bruh idk, some random guy, it doesn’t matter

it does?

are you gonna answer my question or no?

yeah. i think u r both kinds.

good, good, you think to yourself. his reply makes you relax a little, the knot in your stomach loosening. he thinks you’re attractive. of course he does—he’s your best friend, and best friends are supposed to hype you up.

for a moment, you stare at your phone, chewing on your bottom lip. you know you should leave it there, let it go. but something keeps tugging at you.

so, hypothetically, would you… yk, with me?

the second you hit send, panic sets in. your pulse skyrockets, and you almost want to throw your phone across the room. why did you do that? why couldn’t you just shut up? but you don’t have time to spiral, because the dots appear almost immediately.

are u serious?

and you freeze. your fingers hover over the screen, but you can’t bring yourself to type anything back. what kind of answer is that?

alr, imma be honest. yeah i would

your heart stops. you blink at the message, reading it again and again, like the words might change if you look long enough. you weren’t prepared for this.

subong’s typing…

would u? with me?

you want to lie, to brush it off, but your fingers move before your brain can stop them.

maybe

the dots pop up again. then disappear. then pop up again.

maybe?? that means yes. cmon i’m hot as hell, baby, u know it. u’ve probably touched yourself thinking about me at least once

wtf bro you’re giving me the biggest ick rn 💀

but have u?

and you? i bet you jerk off to my insta photos, perv. don’t even start lmaoo

can’t help it when u look that good💯

you stare at his message, your mind scrambling to process it. you feel your breath catch in your throat. the shock should be overwhelming, but instead, you feel a strange warmth spread through you.

you didn’t expect this. the idea that he’s been thinking about you like that… it sends a shiver down your spine. you should probably tell him to stop, tell him it’s too much, but instead, you feel yourself leaning in, pulled toward this conversation in a way you didn’t think you would be.

i may or may not have done the same with your insta pics

i knew itttt señorita 🙏🏼

shut up

how many times?

why do you wanna know?🤨

i answered ur stupid ass questions, now u answer mine

maybe like idk, two?

no fucking way, just two????????

you think it’s not enough or what???? how many times have you done it?

more than u wanna know

how bad are we talking?

so bad i’ve lost count. u really want me to get into details?

maybe i do

bro, let’s just say that everytime u post i’m over here fighting a battle

you do realize i’m your bestfriend right?

yeah, so?

so aren’t there any girls to jerk off to instead of me???

yeah but they don’t make me as hard

you stare at the screen, your heart pounding, your legs squeezing together instinctively. what the hell is happening right now? and then another message comes through.

even saying this shit is getting me worked up

what???😭 you’re hard??

yeah bro, what's a guy supposed to do when his best friend asks if he would fuck her?

it was hypothetical

hypothetically speaking, if a guy was attracted to his best friend, he'd probably be rock fucking hard right now. so yeah, i'm fucking hard, girl

your stomach flips at the bluntness of his words. you can feel the blood rushing to your face as you stare at the message.

too much info, subong

nahhh, u asked. u wanted details, so here they are

okay… should i leave you to it?

fuck no

damn alr, suffer then🙄

could u help me out?

help you out?????????????

with a pic of u or smth

boy whatttttttttt

what?

i’m not sending you fucking nudes wtf 💀💀

no one asked for that, stupid. just a pic of u

just a pic of you. the request feels so simple. he’s your bestfriend—it’s not that big of a deal, right? especially after everything you’ve both just confessed to each other.

your eyes flick toward the mirror in your room. you’re in your pajamas. no bra. you know how it looks. it’s the kind of thing you wouldn’t think twice about wearing around him in person, but now, with this conversation, it feels different. your legs carry you to the mirror almost on autopilot. you pick up your phone and angle it toward your reflection. you shouldn’t even be entertaining this. but instead, you snap the picture. you stare at it for a moment, biting your lip. it’s not explicit—it’s just you. but still… you know exactly how he’ll see it.

your thumb hovers over the send button, hesitation gripping you. a hundred reasons not to do this race through your head, but one single thought drowns them all out: you want to know how he’ll react. before you can second-guess yourself, you hit send. the moment it delivers, your stomach drops, a mix of adrenaline and regret washing over you. you sit down on the edge of your bed, staring at the screen, waiting for his response, your heart pounding louder with every passing second.

hoooooooooly shitttttttttt

it’s just a pic

yeah, a pic of u looking like that

im just in my pajamas

and i’m hornier now, if that’s even possible

subong you can’t just say stuff like that

why not? we always tell each other everything

i should’ve thrown on a hoodie

i’d still be thinking of what’s underneath

well, glad i could help your horny ass🫡 enjoy or whatever

subong’s typing…

subong’s online

subong’s typing…

subong’s online

you watch the dots—flickering like they're mocking you. you can't help but wonder what he's typing—or if he's second-guessing whatever bold thing he's about to say. but then, they disappear. nothing. you frown, staring at the screen, waiting a few more seconds. still nothing. you realize exactly what he's probably doing. you bite your lip, heat creeping up your neck as the image forms in your mind: him, sitting there, hand wrapped around his dick, staring at the picture you sent.

you feel like you need to do something—anything—to distract yourself. you toss your phone onto the bed and reach for the remote, flipping on a random tv show. you let the noise fill the silence, but your mind keeps drifting back to him. it's a few minutes later when your phone dings. the sound cuts through the room like a knife, and you hesitate for a moment, staring at the screen, before finally reaching for it.

it's him. he sent a picture.

these are my pajamas. now we’re even, baby

him, standing in front of the mirror, shirtless and wearing only a pair of tight black briefs. the way he's posing is so over the top... he's trying way too hard. his expression is almost comical, like he's not really sure if he's pulling it off but is hoping you'll think he is. you can't help it—you stifle a laugh. but then your eyes drop, and that laughter dies in your throat. the bulge is so obvious, pushing against the fabric in a way that's impossible to ignore. it's not just visible, it's big. big enough that your pulse spikes, and you forget to breathe for a second. that laughter you were holding back? gone. you glance back at his goofy grin in the mirror, but it's no longer funny. shit. you’re wet.

you don't even know how it happens. one moment, you're staring at his picture, then a teasing comment here, a bold reply there—and before you know it, you're lying on your bed, your phone clutched in one hand and your other slipping between your thighs, pressed against the growing ache he's stoked with every message. you've never gone this far with him before—always ignoring his obvious flirting. but you can’t stop now. and he isn’t shy about it either, telling you with detail everything he would do to you.

u'd look soooo fucking good begging under me, baby

and what if i don’t?

then i'd make u

mhmmm, how?

fuck, i’d bury my face between those thighs and eat u out until u can’t take it anymore

a soft gasp escapes your lips as you read, your body reacting to the vivid images his words paint in your mind. you know you shouldn't be doing this—not with him—but the way he's describing everything makes you forget about all the reasons why. you’re far past the point of feeling shy too. you bite your lip, barely believing yourself as you hit send.

i wish you could feel how wet i am just thinking about you fucking me from behind

god damn girl, i’d stretch that pussy so good my dick is the only thing u’d think about for weeks

and then, it's not just texting anymore—you're sending pictures, even though you swore you wouldn't. the first one is a close-up of your fingers, glistening with your juices. his reply comes almost instantly, not as a text but as a voice message. “shit, baby, you're f-fucking killing me... mhmm... look at that. you're so fucking wet f’me, I can almost taste it through the screen... fuck...” his voice is low and rough, broken by soft, shaky breaths. you can hear him stroking himself, moans slipping out between words. you're losing your damn mind over it, replaying the voice message again and again—fingers curling inside of you as you push them in and out, wishing it were his fingers instead of yours.

he sends a pic too. this time, he leaves nothing to the imagination. it’s a selfie, his face barely visible at the corner. the center of attention is his hard dick, hand wrapped around it, tip leaking precum. and the only thing that comes to your mind right there and then is just how badly you want to take him in your mouth.

one picture leads to another, the messages growing dirtier with every exchange. his words are filthy, his photos even filthier, and the way he talks about your body—what he'd do to it, what he's imagining—fucking hell. your breathing quickens, your body burning with need, and before you know it, that familiar tension starts to coil low in your stomach.

shit, subong… i’m close

u’re gonna cum for me? cmon pretty girl, let me hear you

you hit record just as your orgasm crashes over you, moaning his name loudly as you cum on your fingers. after a few minutes, he sends a voice message back “you sound so fucking good… shit, look what you’ve done t-to me… mmm… fuck, fuck, fuck… i’m gonna cum thinking about fucking you, baby. i’m gonna cum thinking about you making those… s-sounds while i fucking pound into you.”

the next few days are a blur. he hasn’t texted, and you haven’t either. but no matter what you do, you can’t stop thinking about what happened. no matter how hard you try to shake it off, it’s there. his voice, the way he sounded saying your name, the damn nudes, the way your heart raced as you typed those things to him.

you don’t know how to feel about it. on one hand, you can’t deny how much you wanted it in the moment. but now? now you’re not sure. did you cross a line? did he? part of you regrets it, wishes you could just rewind and stop yourself before things spiraled. but another part—one you’re trying to ignore—remembers how good it felt, how right it seemed in the moment.

and then there’s the friendship. years of it. he’s been your best friend for a few years now. he knows things about you no one else does and he’s seen you at your absolute worst. like that night you showed up at his door after a horrible breakup. mascara streaked down your cheeks, and he didn’t say a word—just handed you a blanket, put on your favorite movie, and sat there with you until you fell asleep on his shoulder.

but it wasn’t always serious. like the time he tried rapping one of his freestyles for you, all cocky, and you laughed so hard you couldn’t breathe. or like the time you tripped over absolutely nothing at the mall, and he laughed so hard he cried, then spent weeks reenacting it whenever you were around. or when he clogged your toilet and tried to fix it himself instead of just telling you. or when he picked a fight with some guy at a club because the guy bumped into you and didn’t apologize. he got all puffed up and said, “you got a problem, man?” like he was some kind of action movie hero. but the guy was huge, like, rugby player huge, and before you could drag subong away, he swung and missed, and the dude took him down in one hit. he spent the rest of the night with a bloody nose and ice pressed to his face, grumbling, “he got lucky.” you still remind him of how he ‘lost a fight in one punch,’ and it always makes him groan.

you’ve got a thousand stupid inside jokes that no one else would understand, like how you always text each other ‘don’t die’ instead of ‘goodnight’ because of some dumb horror movie you watched together. or the fact that he nicknamed you ‘señorita’ when you said you wanted to visit spain one day.

he’s a walking disaster, an endless source of secondhand embarrassment, and somehow, that’s what makes subong… subong. being around him has always felt easy, like slipping into your favorite hoodie—comfortable, familiar, safe.

but friends don’t do… that. what if it’s never the same again? you’ve always been comfortable with him, never overthinking what you said or did around him. now, you can’t imagine looking him in the eye without thinking about what you two did together. you keep telling yourself that things will go back to normal, but deep down, you’re scared they won’t. because you’re not sure you can go back—not after knowing what it felt like to be wanted by him in that way. not after letting yourself want him back.

one day, out of the blue, he texts you like nothing happened. just casually, like you didn't have your hand between your thighs while listening to him moan your name a few nights ago.

yoooo, wanna hop on call and play videogames? i’m bored

at first, you stare at the text, because... what does this mean? is this his way of brushing it under the rug? of pretending nothing ever happened? still, you say yes. because what else can you do? you hop into the call, and there he is—joking, laughing, completely normal. like the two of you didn't cross every possible line. he's so good at acting like nothing's changed, it almost convinces you. you match his energy, responding with the same casual ease. maybe this is fine. maybe you're fine.

then the group chat lights up a few days later: a cinema meet-up. everyone's throwing out ideas for what movie to watch, talking about snacks, debating over showtimes. he's there, throwing in jokes about popcorn sizes and his infamous sweet tooth, and you're sitting there trying to decide if you can handle seeing him face to face. you hesitate, debating if you should just make up an excuse not to go. but then he replies to the chat, tagging you specifically.

u better be there señorita

i will🙃

the day arrives faster than you’d like, and before you know it, you’re standing outside the cinema, stomach flipping as you spot namgyu, minsu, gyeongsu, and semi waving at you. you force a smile and walk over, doing your best to focus on their chatter and ignore the nerves crawling up your spine. but then you see him—subong, leaning against the wall, vape in hand. and when his eyes land on you, he smirks. he knows damn well. he knows exactly what you’re thinking, and he’s not going to make this easy for you. “finally,” he says when you’re close enough. “i was starting to doubt you’d come.” “why wouldn’t i?” you reply. he shrugs, taking a puff from his vape “thought you might’ve had better things to do.” the way he says it feels loaded, but he doesn’t give you time to respond, turning his attention to namgyu instead.

when it’s time to head into the cinema, you try to position yourself far from him, making a beeline for a seat between minsu and semi. you settle in, thinking you’re safe, but of course, subong has other plans. “yo, minsu, my boy,” he says as he walks down the aisle, stopping directly in front of you. “mind scooting over? i’ll sit here.” “uh, sure,” minsu says, shifting down without hesitation. you open your mouth to object, but before you can say anything, subong is sliding into the seat next to you, drink in one hand and a bag of popcorn in the other. “hope you don’t mind,” he murmurs, leaning a little closer than necessary. you grit your teeth, keeping your gaze locked on the screen as the previews start. “not at all,” you mutter under your breath.

you think that’s it. but, of course, it doesn’t end there. he shifts in his seat, his arm brushing against yours every now and then, like he’s waiting for you to react. you swear you catch him smirking out of the corner of your eye multiple times. you try to focus on the movie, but it���s impossible when his presence is so loud. every little movement, every tiny glance, has your nerves on edge. and he knows it.

then, you feel it. his hand—light at first— rests on your bare thigh, the heat of his palm sending a jolt through you. you freeze, your breath catching in your throat. what the hell is he doing? his fingers trace a soft line along your skin, caressing just above your knee. you stay still, unsure of what to do, but your body betrays you, not pulling away.

his touch grows bolder, creeping higher up your leg, slipping under your skirt. you glance at him out of the corner of your eye. he's still watching the movie, acting like nothing is happening, like his hand isn't inches away from your clothed pussy. “what are you doing?” you finally ask, your voice barely above a whisper. he turns his head toward you, looking innocent, like he's just minding his own business. “nothing.” “subong—” “i'll stop if you want me to.” you don't answer, torn between wanting to push him away and not wanting him to stop at all. “do you want me to stop? be honest,” he says, still waiting for your response. “no,” you reply, looking away with embarrassment. he chuckles softly—hand rubbing the inside of your thigh.

you drape the thin jacket you brought over your legs, a flimsy attempt to shield his hand from semi’s view. every nerve in your body screams that you shouldn’t be letting this happen, but you don’t stop him. he spreads your legs with his hand for better access, and soon you feel two of his fingers pressing against your clit over the fabric of your panties. your breath hitches, and you try not to move—not even a sound escapes you—but your lips part at the feeling of his touch. he moves them slow—too slow—in a way that has you shifting against him, your hips bucking against his hand, desperate for more. and he gives it to you. his hand slips beneath your soaked underwear, and a low chuckle leaves him when he feels just how wet you are.

subong knows what he is doing. he rubs your clit in circles, gently but with enough pressure to have you biting your bottom lip. and god, his fingers feel so much better than you ever imagined. when he quickens the pace, a soft moan escapes your lips before you can stop it, and you quickly slap a hand over your mouth, pretending to be focused on the screen. but the rapid rise and fall of your chest betrays your so-called calm. before you can collect yourself, semi leans in. “are you okay?” “mhm,” you nod quickly, forcing a smile. “yeah, don't worry, i—” your words falter when his fingers move faster. you bite your lip, trying to hold it together, but he's clearly enjoying watching you struggle. “i-i'm fine,” you manage to stutter. semi raises an eyebrow. “you sure?” “yeah,” you nod. “alright,” semi says before shrugging and turning her attention back to the screen.

you let out a shaky breath, relief flooding through you. your head snaps toward subong, eyes narrowing in a glare that’s meant to convey exactly how ridiculous he’s being right now. you dig your nails into his wrist, “are you crazy?” but he only pauses for a second, leaning in close enough to whisper, “relax, girl. no one noticed.” the audacity of him sends heat rushing to your face. but he doesn’t back down, his fingers resuming their slow, torturous movements. and just as you’re about to reach your orgasm… he stops. your body jerks in frustration, and you whip your head toward him, confused. his smirk only deepens as he pulls his hand from under your skirt, bringing his fingers to his lips and licking them clean. “what the fuck?” you whisper, a soft groan escaping at the loss of his touch. “what?” he whispers back, feigning innocence. “you know what.” “i don't. you'll have to spell it out for me.” “subong—” “tell me what you want.” the frustration wells up in your chest. to him, this is probably hilarious—you being so desperate. but for you? it's humiliating. pathetic. begging your best friend for something like this. still, the need outweighs your pride. you lean in, your lips almost brushing his ear, “i wanna... i wanna cum. please, make me cum.” “yeah? be fucking quiet, then.”

his fingers slip back under your skirt. your breath catches, and you press your lips together, your body already trembling from how close you were before—gripping the armrest, barely able to keep still. every nerve in your body feels like it's on fire, and when his fingers circle just right, you're done. the release hits hard, and you muffle your moans by biting down on your lip so hard it stings.

the days after are... strange. again. no texting, no acknowledgment, no teasing, nothing. it's like it never happened. and when he does text again, it's so casual it throws you off. he sends a random picture, a meme he has found on instagram.

this shit is so funny bro loooololol

i fear your humor is broken😐

naahhh u just don’t get ittt babyy

you reply like everything's fine because, well, isn't it? you don’t even know at this point.

another day, he messages the group chat:

pentagon this weekend?🔥

the replies come fast. namgyu’s working that night. semi has plans with her girlfriend. gyeongsu says he’s too exhausted for it. minsu doesn’t even reply. everyone has an excuse, and eventually, the chat goes dead. then, a private message from subong popps up.

wbu? still down to go?

you and subong had gone clubbing together hundreds of times. hell, most nights it was just the two of you, dancing until your legs gave out, taking blurry selfies, and laughing over cheap drinks. it was normal. so, you type:

yeah, sureee

bet. see u saturday, señorita

when the night comes, your phone buzzes as you’re double-checking your look in the mirror.

outside

outsideeee

outsideeeeeeeee

hellooooooooooooooooooo

one minute, let me grab my jacket

i’m freezing man

one minute my ass

patience is a virtue ❤️

cmooooooooon

u knitting the jacket or what

girl i just hit retirement age waiting for u

you’re so dramatic

and u r so slow, balance baby

you grab your jacket and head out, the bass from his car already thudding through the air when you step outside. you see him leaning against the passenger door, dressed in his usual baggy style—a loose graphic tee, cargo pants, and sneakers that probably cost more than your entire outfit (the only damn thing he saves up for…)—vape dangling lazily from his fingers. when he sees you, his eyes trail over you for a second too long. “you’re overdressed,” he teases with a smile. “you’re underdressed,” you shoot back.

the drive to club pentagon is easy, filled with a mix of rap tracks and subong’s singing. when you finally pull up, the line’s already stretching down the block, but subong doesn’t even blink. “namgyu’s working, right?” he asks, sliding out of the car. you nod. “yeah, he’ll let us in.” inside, the music is already pulsing, bass heavy enough to shake the floors. subong grabs your wrist. “drinks first?” “obviously,” you answer. you follow subong to the bar, the pounding music buzzing in your ears. “what are we starting with?” he asks, leaning against the bar. “shots,” you say, already reaching into your bag. he raises an eyebrow. “you’re paying?” “you’re broke,” you remind him, rolling your eyes before ordering four shots of tequila. when the glasses arrive, he grabs two and hands you one. “guess i’ll owe you,” he says, clinking his glass against yours. “you already do,” you reply, downing the first shot without hesitation. the familiar burn of tequila trails down your throat, and you chase it with a quick breath.

you can feel his eyes on you as you throw back the second shot. you don’t meet his gaze, but you can feel it—the weight of it, the way it makes your stomach flutter. shaking it off, you slam your glass on the counter and signal for one more round. “last one,” you say, mostly to yourself, pulling out more cash. he doesn’t argue, just picks up his shot, watching you as you pick up yours. you both toss back the final shot, and the alcohol is just enough to loosen the knot in your chest. but the way his gaze lingers as he sets his glass down makes it tighten again. “dancing?” you ask. he nods. you push through the crowd till you find a spot on the dance floor. the techno track thuds through your chest as you sway to the rhythm. subong moves with you, not particularly in sync with the beat, but in his own way that somehow works. every now and then, his eyes catch yours, and you have to force yourself to look away.

the music builds, and you let yourself get lost in it, the alcohol buzzing through your veins and the tension from earlier slowly dissolving into the haze of the moment. after a while, he stops moving and pulls his phone from his pocket. you glance at him, curious, as he squints at the screen. whatever he sees makes him smile faintly before he shoves the phone back into his pocket. “i need to hit the bathroom!” he says, leaning close so you can hear. you blink at him, confused. “right now?” he nods, gesturing for you to follow. you don’t argue—it’s not exactly safe to hang around the dance floor by yourself. reluctantly, you let him lead you off the floor.

he disappears into the men’s room, leaving you standing against the wall, arms crossed. you tap your foot, watching drunk strangers stumble past. a few minutes later, the door swings open, and subong walks out, a small smirk playing on his lips. “what took you so long?” you ask, narrowing your eyes at him. instead of answering, he holds up a small plastic bag between his fingers. your stomach flips when you see the little colorful pills inside. “what the hell is that?” you ask, but you already know. he grins, tilting his head. “new stuff.” your brows furrow. “what?” “my plug got these,” he says, holding up the bag slightly. “said they hit different. figured i’d try.” he slides one pill between his fingers, studying it like it’s no big deal. then he brings it to his mouth, about to toss it back. “wait,” you say, grabbing his wrist. he scoffs. “what? you want it instead?” you glare at him. “no, subong. what are you even doing? you don’t need that!” he rolls his eyes, freeing his wrist from your grip. “come on, it’s nothing. we’ve had worse.” “worse?” you scoff. “you’re really gonna compare getting blackout drunk and smoking pot to this?” “you’re fucking overthinking it. it’s just one pill. just tonight. trust me.” he says.

you glance at the bag again, at the little pills that seem so harmless yet scream bad idea. “subong…” you start, but your voice trails off. “look,” he cuts in, his voice softer now. “we’re having a good fucking time, yeah? it’ll be just this once, okay? i promise.” “okay,” you say suddenly, lifting your chin. “but if you do one, i’ll do one.” his smirk falters for half a second. “no.” you frown. “what do you mean, no?” “i mean no. you’re not taking one.” “but you can?” you challenge, crossing your arms.“yeah.” you scoff. “that’s bullshit.” he exhales sharply, shaking his head. “this isn’t your thing, señorita.” “since when it’s yours?” you snap. “if you’re gonna do it, then so am i.”

he looks at you, really looks at you. then, with an exasperated groan, he reaches into the bag. “fucking stubborn,” he mutters, pulling out another pill. “just this once.” he holds it delicately between his fingers before stepping closer. “open up,” he says, his voice dropping a notch. you hesitate for a second but eventually part your lips, sticking out your tongue. he places the pill gently on it. “there you go,” he says, stepping back and popping his own pill. you swallow it quickly, trying not to think about what you’ve just decided to do.

you move back onto the dance floor, the pill's effects creeping in like a warm wave washing over you. the flashing lights seem brighter now and everything blurs together—colors, sounds, the heat of the crowd—but it feels good. better than it should. your limbs feel lighter, like you're floating, and the energy buzzing inside you pushes you to move. subong is right there beside you, dancing with his hand raised, and you can't stop staring at him. his messy hair sticks to his forehead, sweat glistening on his tanned skin.

before you know it, your arms are around his neck, pulling him in like it’s the only thing keeping you steady. his eyes burn into yours for half a second, like he’s daring you to close the distance. then his hands are on your waist, rough fingers slipping under the hem of your shirt, warm against your skin, and he drags you closer until you’re pressed against him. the music is pounding, but it feels distant—like the only rhythm you can hear now is the way your bodies move together, hips rolling in time, every brush of his skin against yours making you burn.

his breath fans across your lips, hot and tasting of tequila and something bitter—maybe the pill he took earlier—and it makes your head spin. then your mouth crashes into his. there’s nothing soft about it. it’s messy and sloppy, urgent—like you’re both too far gone to think about anything but this. his lips part against yours immediately, and your tongues meet in a dizzying clash of heat and need. his hands slide up your back, fingers threading into your hair, tugging just hard enough to make you gasp into his mouth.

you tilt your head, chasing the kiss even deeper. you feel the sharp graze of his teeth against your bottom lip, a bite that makes you whimper before he soothes it with his tongue. the sound you make pushes him further—he groans into your mouth, his other hand gripping your jaw, tilting your face exactly how he wants it.

you’re not sure where the desperation is coming from, but it feels like if he stops touching you, you’ll shatter. your fingers clutch at his shirt, twisting the fabric as you grind just a little closer, a little harder. he’s breathing just as heavy as you are, lips red and swollen from kissing you like he never wants to stop.

you’ve kissed people before but nothing’s ever felt like this. nothing’s ever felt this fucking good. the two of you stumble out of the club. your legs feel like jelly as you hold onto subong, and his arm wraps around your waist to steady you. his car is parked a few streets over, tucked away in a dark, hidden corner under some trees. “thank god for this spot,” he mutters as he unlocks the doors.

you barely make it into the backseat before he’s on you again—his lips crashing into yours like he’s been waiting for this forever. his hands are all over you, rough and desperate, like he’s afraid you’ll slip away. but you’re not going anywhere. his fingers dig into your thighs as he pulls you into his lap, and the second you straddle him, you feel it—hard and thick, pressing right against the heat between your legs. a soft gasp slips out of you, but he swallows it with another kiss, his tongue sliding against yours. fuck, he’s good.

your hands tangle in his hair, pulling as your hips start to move, grinding down on him. his grip tightens immediately, a low groan rumbling from his chest as he guides your movements, rocking you against him harder. the friction creates a delicious, aching pressure that makes you whimper against his lips. “fuck,” he breathes, breaking the kiss just long enough to let his head fall back against the seat. his fingers squeeze your ass, dragging you down against him rougher. “keep doing that.” so you do. you roll your hips, slow at first, letting yourself feel everything. you’re already soaked, already throbbing for more, and from the way his hands are gripping you, the way his breathing is getting heavier, you know he feels it too. “i need to eat you out,” he says, trailing kisses down your neck. “want you to cum on my tongue.” you do exactly what he wants—legs spread wide, thighs trembling as his head dips between them. his breath is hot against your soaked pussy, teasing, before his tongue finally makes contact—slow at first, a long, deliberate lick from your entrance to your clit that makes your whole body jolt.

you gasp at the feeling, fingers tangling in his hair, tugging hard, but it only makes him groan against you, the vibrations sending another wave of pleasure straight through you. he doesn’t hold back. he devours you, eating you out like a man starved, his tongue flicking against your clit before he sucks it into his mouth. and when two of his fingers slip inside you, curling deep, pressing against that perfect spot, you swear you see stars. “you taste so fucking good,” he groans against you, his lips slick with your arousal before he flattens his tongue and laps up every drop. the way he’s working you—his mouth, his fingers, the filthy sounds coming from between your legs—it’s too much, too good, and your whole body is trembling, hips rolling against his face, chasing more. “shit—subong!” your voice breaks as the pleasure crashes over you all at once. your thighs clamp around his head, your body arching off the seat as you cum hard against his mouth. but he doesn’t stop—his tongue keeps moving, drinking you in, dragging out your release until you’re shaking.

when he comes back up to kiss you—chin shining with the evidence of your release— your hand instinctively moves to rub him through his pants, the hard outline of his dick impossible to miss. he hisses at the contact, his hips bucking eagerly against your touch. “you got a condom?” you ask. he pauses. “yeah, hold on.” reluctantly, he pulls away and starts patting his pockets. his brows furrow in concentration as he checks one side, then the other. finally, with a relieved grin, he pulls a condom out and holds it up. “got it,” he says before kissing the wrapper, making you chuckle.

he looks so fucking hot as he rolls the condom onto his cock, his chest rising and falling with anticipation. but nothing gets him off more than watching you climb back onto his lap, your soaked folds teasing the head of his dick as you line yourself up. his breath stutters, his hands gripping your thighs, barely holding himself back. “fuck, you’re so wet,” he says, voice tight with restraint. then, slowly you sink down onto him. inch by inch, he stretches you open, filling you up until there’s no space left between your bodies. “shit,” he hisses, watching as your slick coats him, making every movement easy, effortless—like your body was made to take him. and when you start moving, lifting your hips before sliding back down, a broken moan escapes his lips. “fuck, baby,” he breathes, hands roaming up your back, gripping your ass, anything to ground himself as you ride him. “you feel so f-fucking good—look at you, taking me so… mmm… so fucking well.” his voice is needy, and when you slam down harder, his hips jerk up to meet yours, pushing even deeper. “oh my—fuck, subong!” you cry out, your walls clenching around him so tight it makes his whole body tense beneath you.

he almost fucking loses it the second he feels you clench around him, his face twisting in pleasure, jaw going slack. his hands grip your hips, guiding you—faster, rougher—eyes locked on where your bodies meet, watching his cock disappear inside you over and over again. he forces himself to meet your gaze, even though his eyes keep threatening to roll back. “fuck, if i’d known how fucking good this pussy is… i would’ve f-fucked you sooner.” he moans as you move faster, bouncing on his cock—every thrust making obscene, slick sounds that only turn him on more. his eyes drop to your tits, bouncing perfectly in time with your movements, and fuck, he can’t decide what he wants more—to keep watching you ride him like this or to flip you over and ruin you.

but then you tighten around him, your rhythm stuttering as you throw your head back, moaning so loud he swears the whole damn neighborhood can hear you. “fuck— i’m gonna—! i-i’m gonna cum!” you cry out, your whole body trembling, thighs shaking as you cum around his cock. and that’s it. that’s all it takes to break him. “shit—ngh!” his body jerks beneath you, his abs tensing as he spills into the condom, his head falling back, mouth open.

his hands are still gripping you, holding you down against him as he rides out every last pulse of his release, his chest rising and falling in ragged breaths. and fuck—you’re still wrapped around him, warm and wet and perfect. you end up laughing for a solid twenty minutes after that, still too high to fully process what the fuck just happened between you two. but even in your haze, every single detail stays with you the next day.

fucking your best friend while high as fuck one night might’ve been an accident. but then it happens again. and again. and again. and you can’t call it an accident anymore.

it happens everywhere.

in his car, where the windows are always fogged up, your moans echoing in the tight space. in your apartment, where he barely gets the door shut before he’s got you pinned against it, hands rough and greedy, yanking your clothes off like he’s been waiting all fucking day for this. sometimes he doesn’t even make it past the kitchen—he just lifts you onto the counter, knocking over whatever’s in his way, too impatient to care as his mouth moves down your neck. in his bed, where the sheets are always a mess, tangled from how hard he fucks you into the mattress, his hands gripping your wrists, pinning them above your head. even in a club bathroom, right after he gives a show, still high off the energy, sweat dripping down his temple. you’re barely inside before he’s got you bent over the sink, hiking your dress up, shoving your panties to the side, fucking into you so deep you have to bite your hand to keep from screaming his name.

wherever. the second you’re alone, it’s happening. it becomes a thing. a need.

you always figured subong would fuck good. he never shut up about the girls he’s been with, the shit he’s done, bragging like he was the best lay any of them ever had. and every time he talked about it, you’d feel heat pool between your thighs, wondering if he was really that good or just full of shit.

now you knew. and fuck, he wasn’t lying.

he’s rough and passionate—the kind of lover who takes without hesitation but gives just as much, maybe even more. he loves watching you squirm, loves the way your body responds to him like it was made for this. like it needs this. his fingers trail down your skin, barely touching, making you shiver before he finally gives you what you want. and fuck, he lives for it—the way you gasp when he finally presses his mouth between your legs, the way your back arches when he fills you up, stretching you wide, making you take every inch.

some days, he drags it out, torturing you with slow touches, lazy kisses, making you beg before he finally gives in. he’ll tease you until you’re trembling, hands gripping at him desperately, “please, subong… need you so bad.” and then, maybe then, he’ll give you what you’re begging for. other days? he doesn’t bother waiting. before you can say a word, he’s got you pinned to the mattress, yanking your legs apart, pressing himself against you, making you feel just how hard he is. “been thinking about this all fucking day.” then he’s inside you, fucking you like he’s been starving for it.

it’s been months now—this thing between you and subong. but you don’t talk about it. not once. there’s no late-night confessions, no whispered ‘what are we?’ between tangled sheets. he doesn’t ask who else you’re seeing, and you sure as hell don’t ask him. but the uncertainty lingers. because he’s still your best friend. you still laugh at his dumb ass jokes, roll your eyes when he’s being his cocky self, and feel that weird, warm twist in your stomach when you catch him watching you from across the room.

and yet, there are a bunch of little things that scream something more. like that time you sat on his rumpled bed while he was writing a song, and you helped him hammer out stupid-ass verses—even when he swore they’d never work. you teased him for his cheesy lines and then watched his face light up like he’d just discovered a new fucking world. hell, he even calls you his muse sometimes, and you hate how damn proud that makes you feel.

or that stormy night. the rain was lashing against the windows, and you two were locked in his tiny studio apartment. one minute you were laughing, taking silly pictures of him with a digital camera while he smoked, and the next, he had your face pressed against the wooden table as he fucked you from behind—your ass cheeks burning from his vigorous spanking. after, he pulled you close, running his fingers through your hair as if trying to memorize every inch of you.

that one night he showed up at your door at 2 a.m., high off his ass, slurring your name with that cocky grin, his knuckles tapping too fast against the wood. “couldn’t sleep,” he mumbled, leaning against the doorframe. “fucking missed you.” you should’ve told him to fuck off, should’ve rolled your eyes and slammed the door in his face because he promised he wouldn’t do that shit again. instead, you let him in, let him collapse onto your bed with a heavy sigh, pulling you down with him. his arms caged you in, the scent of his cheap cologne filling your senses.

then there was the time you caught him staring at you while you were getting ready. you were fixing your hair in his mirror, wearing nothing but his oversized t-shirt, and when you turned around, he was just standing there—arms crossed. “what?” you asked, feeling heat rise to your cheeks. he just shook his head, smirking a little. “nothing,” he said. “you just—you look good in my clothes, mama.”

and when you called him crying after a shitty day at work, voice shaking so bad he could barely understand you. you didn’t even have to ask—he just showed up, no questions. drove way too fucking fast to get to you, and pulled you into his chest so tight it felt like he was trying to hold you together. “who do i need to punch?” he asked, half-joking, half-dead serious. and you laughed, even through your tears, because that was him—always trying to make you smile. he let you cry into his hoodie, let you hold onto him like a fucking lifeline, and then, when you finally calmed down, he kissed your forehead like it was second nature. “you’re okay, baby” he murmured. “i got you.” he always had you.

or the night he took you to some shitty underground concert, knowing damn well you didn’t even like the band. “it’s not about the music,” he told you, grinning like an idiot. “it’s about the experience.” you rolled your eyes, but you still let him pull you into the crowd, still let him wrap an arm around you when the pit got too wild, still let him hold your hand. afterward, sweaty and breathless, you sat on the curb outside, sharing a cigarette while he rambled about how sick the show was. “you should play up there one day,” you told him, nudging his shoulder. “your songs have gotten better.” “you think?” “yeah. you’re good, bong-bong.” the nickname made him laugh. a week later, he showed you something he wrote. something raw and messy and fucking beautiful. he let you hear a part of him no one else ever did.

you even helped him rebrand himself. it started with him pacing his room, muttering to himself, stopping every few seconds like he was about to say something, then changing his mind. eventually, you sighed, rolling onto your stomach while watching him from his bed. “are you having a breakdown or just being dramatic?” he ignored you, still pacing. and then, out of nowhere, he stopped. snapped his fingers. looked at you like he just discovered the secret to life itself. “i’m gonna dye my hair purple.” you stared at him for a long second, waiting for him to laugh or tell you he was joking. but he just stood there, completely serious, shoulders squared like he was about to go to war.

within twenty minutes, you were in his bathroom, gloves on, a box of purple dye sitting between you. you didn’t even ask how he got it so fast. knowing him, he’d probably been sitting on this idea for weeks, just waiting for the right moment to drag you into it. he sat on the closed toilet lid, legs spread, while you stood over him, parting his hair and working the dye through. up close, he looked smug as hell, like he knew he was onto something. the whole rap game was about standing out, and he was done waiting for people to notice him.

the name ‘thanos’ caught on faster than you expected. at first, it was a joke—you called him that to be annoying, and then he used it in a song, and suddenly, people were saying it back to him. dms started piling up. more people started listening. before you knew it, subong wasn’t just some guy making music in his bedroom—he was thanos. and, of course, he acted like he knew it was gonna work all along.

and fuck, the time he brought you home to meet his family. his mom fussed over you like you were the perfect daughter-in-law, laying on your favorite dish and insisting you have seconds. then, saying, “he talks about you a lot”, making subong choke on his food while his sister goaded him about how he treats you like his damn girlfriend. you felt so out-of-place and yet so damn loved by the way he proudly introduced you to everyone, as if you were the missing piece in his fucked-up puzzle. he even opened up to you about his dad—how he never gave a shit about him, never looked at him unless it was to point out everything he did wrong. maybe that was why he kept stealing glances at you like he was trying to make sense of it—of being wanted, of being next to someone who actually cared.

and later that night, when you were both lying on his couch, full and sleepy, he nudged your knee with his. “thanks for coming, señorita,” he mumbled, eyes half-lidded. “they liked you.” you turned your head to look at him, saying, “of course they did. i’m fucking amazing.” he smirked, but it faded quick, his gaze lingering on you a little too long. “yeah,” he murmured. “you are.”

nights that weren’t about sex at all. the ones where he just wanted you close, his hands resting on your back, his lips pressed to your shoulder, his voice low and sleepy in the dark. “you’re warm,” he’d mumble, pulling you closer. “don’t leave.” “i work tomorrow, baby,” you’d say. “i’ll drive you… stay with me,” he’d always replied.

and you did. every single time.

and there were the nights he fucked you like he meant it. not just like you were some girl he was hooking up with, but like you were the only one who had ever mattered. like he was trying to prove something with every touch, every kiss, every time he pressed his sweaty forehead to yours and whispered your name like a prayer.

like he loved you. but he never said it. and neither did you.

so instead, you settled for the quiet moments—for the way he always pulled you into his lap at parties, his hands resting lazily on your thighs; for the way he let you pick the music when you drove anywhere, even though he always bitched about your taste; for the way he let you steal his fries, let you doodle on his lyrics notebook, let you wear his hoodies even when you didn’t ask; for the way he texted you ‘good morning, baby❤️,’ and it made you smile for no damn reason; for the way you woke up to find him still asleep beside you, hair a damn mess on the pillow, and traced lazy circles on his chest while he mumbled some half-remembered melody. for the way he looked at you when he thought you weren’t watching.

you can’t help but hope that one day you’ll both just say the damn words and finally admit that all these little moments mean something. you hope that maybe, just maybe, one day you’ll stop wondering if you’re more than just friends with benefits.

are u busy?

no, why?

good, i’ll be there in 10

i’m on my period

who gives a shitttt, i sure as hell don’t, mama

subong.

yeah?🙏🏼

not in the mood❤️

oh

alr cool👍🏼💯

can i still come over tho? we could watch a movie or something

yeah okayyy, bring snacks (or else i won’t let you in)

i’m the only snack u need, girl

you don’t expect him to show up with anything, but when you open the door, subong’s standing there, hands full—one holding a plastic bag, the other gripping a bottle of soda. “what’s all this?” you ask, raising a brow. he steps inside without waiting for an invite, kicking off his shoes. “you said ‘bring snacks’, didn’t you?” he says, dropping the bag onto your coffee table. “figured you’d want something sweet.” you peek inside—chocolate bars, a pack of strawberry pocky, even a container of sliced fruit. your chest tightens at the thought of him actually remembering the little things you like.“what, no painkillers?” you tease, flopping onto the couch. he scoffs, collapsing next to you, way too comfortable in your space. “what do i look like, a pharmacy?”

you give him a knowing look, and his lips twitch, like he knows exactly what you’re thinking. grabbing the remote, you ask, “so, what are we watching?” “something i won’t fall asleep to,” he says, stretching an arm across the back of the couch. “which means no boring indie shit.” you nudge his thigh with your foot. “first of all, my movie taste is elite. second, if you fall asleep, i’m taking pictures.” he grins, lazy and cocky. “yeah? what will you use them for?” heat rushes to your face, and you smack his arm without thinking. “shut up.”

the movie plays, and for a while, it’s normal. easy. you snack on the pocky while subong steals pieces of fruit from the container, acting like he’s doing you a favor by eating the ones you don’t like. he stretches out on the couch, legs spread, one arm draped lazily over the backrest. goddamn.

it's barely been a few minutes when you find yourself on your knees in front of the couch, his strong hand fisting in your hair as you hungrily suck his dick like your life depends on it. you couldn’t help it. he just looked too fucking good. you take him deep, your nose pressing against his abs, gagging slightly but refusing to back off. he lets out a groan as you take him, the head of his dick hitting the back of your throat. His hand tightens in your hair, guiding your head up and down. “fuck, just like that baby... show me how much you love this dick.” his hips thrust forward, making you gag slightly. “you're so f-fucking good for me... mmm such a pretty little mouth, choking on my cock.”

drool slips down your chin as you struggle to breathe but maintain eye contact, wanting him to see how much you love taking him in your mouth. the wet, obscene sounds of you slurping and gagging fill the room. he watches you intently, pupils blown wide with lust, his dick throbbing against your tongue. moaning around him, the vibrations make his thighs quake. "shit... you’re gonna make me fucking c-cum," he breathes out. “you gonna… you gonna let me cum in that s-sweet mouth of yours, hm?” “mhmm,” you purr around his length, looking up at him with hooded eyes. you double your efforts, sucking him hard and fast, your hand pumping what you can’t reach. he holds your head in place as he comes, making you to swallow every last drop. you take a moment to catch your breath, wiping your mouth before sitting back up.

the bathroom lights hum to life as you rinse your mouth and splash cool water on your face, trying to shake off the heat thrumming through you. you press your palms against the sink, inhaling deep in an attempt to look less flustered. the movie’s still on when you come back. you get comfortable, leaning into subong just slightly. he doesn’t say anything, just lifts his arm and lets you settle in against his side. the warmth of him seeps into you, and you rest your head on his shoulder. subong smiles at you before kissing your forehead, something that shouldn’t mean anything but somehow does.

you shift slightly, but he just pulls you in closer, his body solid and warm against yours. your heart stutters in your chest, and the thought of what you are—what you actually mean to him—becomes impossible to ignore. the longer you sit there, the harder it is to pretend this is normal. your heart is beating too fast, your mind racing with thoughts you’ve been shoving down for months. finally, you tilt your head to glance up. “subong,” you start, your voice quieter than you mean it to be. he hums, eyes still on the screen, but you can tell he’s listening. you swallow, suddenly nervous. “what… what are we doing?” that gets his attention. “what do you mean?” you sit up a little, putting some space between you—enough to see him clearly. “this. us. it’s been months, and we’ve never talked about it.” “what’s there to talk?” “i mean, is this just sex to you?”

he doesn’t answer right away. his jaw tenses, his eyes flicking away for a second like he’s weighing his words. “does it feel like just sex to you?” he finally asks. your chest tightens. “no.” his lips part slightly, like he wasn’t expecting you to admit it so easily. like maybe he’s been trying to convince himself of something different. “right. it’s not just sex, we’re friends, too,” he says. “then why are we acting like this?” you push. he rubs a hand over his face. “i don’t know.” he leans forward, elbows on his knees. the silence stretches thick between you, but you refuse to let it suffocate you. you need to know. “what do you want this to be?”

subong exhales hard, dragging a hand through his hair. he looks frustrated, like he doesn’t even want to have this conversation. like you’re ruining something by asking. “why do we have to call it something?” he says finally, and your stomach twists. you blink, sitting up a little. “because it’s been months, subong. because we’re not—we’re not just fucking and then going our separate ways. because we’re sitting here, cuddling, watching a damn movie, and it feels like more.” his jaw clenches, his fingers tightening around his knee. “it doesn’t have to mean anything.” that stings. worse than you were expecting. you swallow around the lump forming in your throat. “it does to me.” his face twists, like he hates hearing that. “shit, don’t fucking do this,” he mutters, shaking his head. “why can’t we just keep things the way they are?” “because i’m tired of pretending this is casual when it’s not,” you snap, your voice cracking. “not for me, at least.”

he squeezes his eyes shut for a second, like he’s trying to hold something back. when he looks at you again, his expression is unreadable, but his next words hit like a punch to the gut. “then maybe you shouldn’t have let it get this fucking far.” you feel like the air has been sucked out of the room. “what?” “i never promised you shit.” the words cut deep, sharper than anything he’s ever said to you before. you open your mouth to respond, but nothing comes out. because he’s right. he never did. but the way he touched you, the way he held you after—none of that felt like nothing. you shake your head, biting the inside of your cheek to keep your voice steady. “are you fucking kidding me?”

he hesitates for a second too long. and that’s all you need to know. you force yourself to nod, pressing your lips together. “okay.” his brows furrow, like he wasn’t expecting you to take it like that, but you don’t give him the chance to say anything else. you grab the remote, press stop on the movie, and push yourself off the couch. “you should go.” “are you fucking serious?” you cross your arms over your chest, fighting to keep your composure. “yeah, i’m serious. get the fuck out.” “we have one fucking shitty conversation, and now you don’t want me here?” he scoffs, shaking his head. “what the fuck do you want from me, subong?” your voice shakes, and you can feel it crack, but you force it out. “sit here and pretend like i didn’t just fucking tell you how i feel? pretend i’m not fucking hurt because you—” you stop yourself, biting your lip so hard it almost bleeds. his jaw clenches. “what?” you let out a bitter laugh, the sound sharp and bitter. “because you don’t fucking care.” “i never said i don’t care.” “you might as well have,” you snap, voice breaking with frustration. “you just don’t give a shit enough to do anything about it.” he presses his tongue against the inside of his cheek, breathing hard through his nose. “just because i care doesn’t mean we have to slap a fucking label on it!” “and i just have to be okay with that?!” you snap, your voice rising. “i have to sit here like a dumbass and pretend this is fine when it’s not?”

he throws his hands up, his face twisting in frustration. “for fuck’s sake, why do you have to make everything so fucking difficult?” “difficult?!” you let out a humorless laugh. “you’re the one acting like a fucking idiot, subong! you want to fuck me, cuddle me, act like i’m your fucking girlfriend, but the second i ask you to be honest about what this is, suddenly i’m the problem?! you even introduced me to your damn family!” he freezes for half a second when the words leave your mouth, then he stands up, jabbing a finger in your face. “what the fuck did you just call me?!” you swat his hand away, your glare burning into him. “don’t fucking point at me like that!” his jaw tightens, and his nostrils flare like he’s barely keeping himself from snapping. “you wanna talk about being a fucking idiot?! look in the fucking mirror!” he spits. “you’re the one acting like some needy little bitch because i won’t say what you wanna hear.” “fuck you, subong!” you don’t say anything else. you just turn on your heel and walk out of the living room, heading straight for the kitchen. your hands are shaking, your chest tight, and you just need to put some distance between you and him before you completely fall apart. behind you, you hear him scoff. “seriously? you’re just gonna walk away mid-fucking-conversation?”

you grip the edge of the counter, squeezing your eyes shut. maybe if you stay quiet, he’ll take the fucking hint and leave. but of course, he doesn’t. you hear his footsteps as he follows you in. “you always do this shit,” he mutters, his voice dripping with irritation. “running off the second things don’t go your way.” you whirl around, your eyes burning. “what should i do, then? hm? get on my knees and suck your fucking dick again?!” he clenches his fists at his sides, his mouth opening like he’s about to argue—but then he hesitates. because the truth is, you do mean something to him. he just doesn’t know how to fucking deal with it. subong has never done this before—never been in something that wasn’t just fucking around, never had to deal with real feelings, real expectations. and the idea of fucking it up? it scares the shit out of him. but instead of admitting that, instead of being honest for once in his life, he just does what he does best—pushes, lashes out. it seems easier than dealing with what he feels when he’s around you.

“why do you care so fucking much about not calling it something?” you ask, your voice softer now. “if we’re not seeing other people, if we’re always together, if you do care about me, then why?” his throat bobs as he swallows hard. and then—because he’s a fucking coward—he lies. “who says i’m not seeing other people?” you freeze. his face is unreadable, but you can see the way his fingers twitch at his sides, like he already regrets saying it. “you’re lying.” your voice is quiet. he just shrugs, “i’ve been seeing this girl.” “who?” you raise your voice, taking a step closer as tears start falling down your face. “who?!” “i’m not fucking telling you!” “are you serious?! aren’t we supposed to be friends too?! we used to tell each other everything!”

his eyes flick to yours, and for a second—just a second—something flashes in them. something like guilt. but then he shuts it down, scoffing as he shakes his head. you continue, “but we’re not even friends anymore, are we?” “don’t say that.” “why not? it’s true, isn’t it? friends don’t do what we do,” you wipe at your face, even though the tears won’t stop fucking falling. he swipes his tongue over his bottom lip, pressing it against the inside of his cheek like he’s trying to hold something back. but then he just shrugs again, voice flat. “guess we’re not fucking friends either, then.”

your vision blurs as you cry, no matter how hard you try to keep it together. “get the fuck out, subong.” your voice breaks on the last word, and you hate how fucking weak you sound, how pathetic. and the second the first real sob rips out of your throat, something in him shifts. “fuck. no, i—” he exhales, raking a hand through his hair, his voice softer now, like he’s realizing he went too far. “i didn’t mean it. i’m sorry—i’m sorry, baby.” “don’t fucking call me that!” “you gotta listen to me!” you shake your head, taking a step back, your whole body trembling. “no. i’m done listening to your fucking bullshit.” “baby, please.” his voice cracks, and his hands reach for you—hesitant, like he doesn’t know if you’ll let him touch you. “please.” you slap them away instantly. “don’t fucking touch me.” “you’re really just gonna shut me out like this?!” “you shut me out first!” “i fucking care about you!” “not enough!” his breath catches in his throat, and for a second, he just stares at you. “you’re being fucking dramatic.” “get the fuck out of my house, subong.” “why are you being such a fucking—” “say it.” your voice is a challenge, daring him to go there. he doesn’t hesitate. “bitch. a fucking bitch. you—you’re acting like a bitch.”

you’ve had enough. without thinking, you shove him—hard. he stumbles back a step, caught off guard, but you don't stop. you shove him again, your palms flat against his chest. “you’re a fucking asshole! fuck you! get out! get the fuck out!” his jaw tightens, like he wants to argue, like he wants to throw something else back at you, but you're already stepping forward again, grabbing his arm and shoving him toward the front door. subong wrenches his arm away, but you don't let it stop you. you push him again, shoving him past the threshold. but he’s not moving, so you grab the nearest thing—his damn sneakers—and chuck them at him, one after the other. the first one bounces off his chest, the second one catches him square in the shoulder. “what the fuck, man?!” subong barks, flinching back, his face twisting in irritation. he barely catches the second shoe before it can hit the ground. “you’re a crazy bitch!”

“fuck off!” your voice cracks again, but you don’t care. you’re already stepping forward, already reaching for the door—and you slam it in his face. the sound echoing through the room. for a moment, silence. a long, awful pause where your breath hitches, where your chest tightens so much it feels like you’re suffocating. then—“open the door. c’mon, open—open the fucking door!” he slams his fist against the wood. “stop being so fucking childish!” “you’re calling me childish?! grow up, subong! you’re twenty six, you don’t know what you want and you still dress like a fucking kid!” he bangs the door. “you’re one to talk, girl! always dressed like a damn slut!”

you squeeze your eyes shut and stumble to your room until your knees hit the bed, and then you’re collapsing onto it. the first sob breaks out of you before you can stop it, and then another, and another. you curl into yourself, pulling the blanket over your head, pressing your hands against your ears. but it doesn’t block him out. “fucking talk to me!” another bang. you hear the doorknob rattle. “baby, please! i’m sorry, okay?! c’mon, don’t do this! we’re fucking friends!” your voice is muffled when it finally comes, thick with tears, but loud enough for him to hear you. “go away!” “not fucking happening! open the damn door!” “go away or i’m calling the fucking cops, motherfucker!” that seems to work. you curl tighter, press your face into the pillow, and sob until the sound of his fists against the door fades away. he did this. he made you feel this way. and he fucking hates himself for it. but it’s too late.

the next few days are absolute shit. you barely leave your bed at first. your body feels too heavy, your chest too tight, your eyes too sore from crying. when you do finally move, it’s only to go through the motions—brushing your teeth, pulling on the same oversized hoodie, forcing down a few bites of food even when everything tastes like nothing, and going to work. you don’t check your phone at first. you can’t. but eventually, the screen lights up, and you don’t have to look to know who it is. subong. you let it ring. he calls again. and again. when it finally stops, the texts start.

pick up the fucking phone

cmon baby please

i fucking miss u

don’t do this shit to me

u make me so fucking angry

bro istfg

please

you turn the phone face down. but he doesn’t stop. every time you glance at your screen, his name is there.

i know u r reading these

don’t fucking ignore me bro

at least tell me u r okay

minsu asked why u didn’t come with us today

just fucking answer

is it that hard?

years and years of friendship man and u throw it all away like that?

u r fucking selfish

i hope u know that

the texts keep coming. always at random times. but the worst ones come at night. one day, at 4:12 a.m., your phone buzzes against your nightstand. you try to ignore it, try to pretend you’re asleep, but something tells you to look.

im highhg as fuvckk bro

look whatu vdone to me

fukcing bittvhhh

its urA fault

i mis uu

u r myybhaby❤️❤️❤️❤️

its fucking 4am. i wake up at 6 to go to work, stfu and leave me alone

can i cone over? plewaasse

answer bitchj

fuck you, subong. i don’t want to see you again

come bsck

i loveyouy

you block him, roll over, and squeeze your eyes shut. but sleep doesn’t come easy. not when the last words he sent are still glowing behind your eyelids, burning into your brain.

blocking him should have brought peace. should have been the final step, the clean break. but it doesn’t feel like that. instead, it feels like holding your breath underwater, waiting to resurface, except there’s no hand to pull you up this time. the first few days, you keep checking your phone out of habit. unlocking it without thinking. but there’s nothing. you still reach for him in small ways—almost texting him when something funny happens, almost turning to tell him about your day. but you can’t do that. you won’t do that. so you keep yourself busy. you pick up a book, let your eyes scan the words without really absorbing them. go on long walks, let the cold air bite at your skin, hoping it shocks you out of your thoughts. start journaling, writing down everything except his name, except the way your chest still feels hollow. you even try new things—take a yoga class with a friend, bake cookies at 2 a.m., cut your hair just to feel something different. but memories of him are stitched into the fabric of your life.

you hear his voice on the radio sometimes now, when they play a song of his that went viral. see him in the reflection of dark car windows, like he’s just a step behind you. hear a joke and immediately think about how he’d laugh, head thrown back, eyes crinkling at the edges. you tell yourself that eventually, you’ll forget. but some nights, you lie in bed, staring at the ceiling, wondering if he’s staring at his too. if he’s thinking about you. and the ache doesn’t go away.

your phone rings one night, when you’re already in bed. you almost don’t answer, but when you see semi’s name flash across the screen, you pick up. “hello?” your voice is groggy, tired. “hey,” semi says. “sorry, did i wake you?” “no,” you lie. “what’s up?” there’s a pause. hesitation. then, “it’s subong.” your stomach drops. “we’re worried about him.” she rushes the words out, like she’s been holding them in for too long. “he’s been acting weird lately—worse than usual.” you close your eyes, already knowing where this is going. already knowing what she’s about to say before she even says it. “he’s been taking those pills,” she continues. “the ones he used to mess with sometimes, but now he’s on them all the time. it’s like he’s not even—shit. he was out,” she says, frantic. “namgyu couldn’t wake him up at first, it was fucking bad, dude. and now he’s still high as hell, barely making sense, and he keeps—” she hesitates. you frown. “he keeps what?” “he keeps mumbling your name.” you feel like you’ve been punched in the chest. you press your fingers to your temple, trying to stop the pounding in your head. “fuck.” “he’s not okay,” she says. “he’s barely sleeping, barely eating. he looks like shit. well, he always does, but you know what i mean. and when he does talk, it’s like he’s—like he’s not there.”

you take a shaky breath. you shouldn’t care. you don’t care. he’s not your problem anymore. but your stomach still twists at the thought of him like that. “maybe you could talk to him?” semi says, hopeful. “when he feels better. i think he’d listen to you. gyeongsu is gonna take us to the hospital in a few minutes, maybe you could come too? we’ll pick you up. we’re at namgyu’s apartment, we had to take him—” “we’re not friends anymore, semi,” you cut off, swallowing down the lump in your throat. silence. “what?” she says. “what do you mean?” “he hasn’t told you?” “told us what?” “it doesn’t matter,” you say finally, letting out a heavy sigh. “i can’t help him.” “but—” “i can’t, semi.” the words come out sharper than you mean them to. she falls quiet. after a long moment, she sighs. “alright, okay,” she says, voice heavy with disappointment. “i just… i didn’t know.”

and even though you tell yourself it’s not your problem, even though you tell yourself you did the right thing—you don’t sleep that night. maybe you’re the most horrible person ever. for not helping him. that’s what you think to yourself as the days go by. you don’t go to see him. you don’t text semi back. you tell yourself that there’s nothing you could have done, that he made his choices, that you’re not responsible for saving him. but the guilt sticks to your ribs.

you keep moving forward. and then, somewhere along the way, you meet him. he’s nothing like subong. not really. but sometimes, in the way he leans back in his chair, in the way he runs his fingers through his hair, in the way he laughs when he’s had one too many drinks—he almost is. (he even likes rap!) and maybe that’s why you let him take you out. why you let him kiss you. why you let him press his hands against your skin and pretend it feels right. it doesn’t. but you let it happen anyway. because it’s easier. because when you close your eyes, you can almost pretend it’s subong. it’s fucked up. you know it’s fucked up. but you tell yourself it’s fine. that it doesn’t matter. that this is what moving on is supposed to look like. but it’s not fair. you know you shouldn’t be doing this. and when he asks what’s wrong, why you get quiet sometimes, why you look at him like you’re seeing someone else—you just smile. shake your head. press a kiss to his lips and hope he never realizes that you don’t mean it. hope he never realizes that no matter how hard you try—subong is still the only one you see.

he invites you to a show one night, says it’ll be fun. you don’t really know much about it—just that it’s some rap battle tournament called ‘rap battlegrounds’—but you’re bored, and it’s something to do. you don’t ask too many questions because, honestly, you don’t care that much. he picks you up, and you follow him through the neon-lit streets to a club you’ve never seen before, the bass already thumping from inside. he leads you through the crowd to a small corner of the club. it’s dark, gritty, with exposed brick walls and dim, flickering lights that barely cut through the haze of smoke hanging in the air. the floor is sticky. it’s the kind of place you usually avoid, but tonight, you let it slide.

you're barely paying attention, your eyes drifting over the crowd, the noise just background filler. the battles blur together, the hype not really doing anything for you. you're zoning out, tapping your foot to the rhythm of the beat, hoping this night will pass quickly—regretting all your life choices when he wraps his arm around your shoulders. when suddenly, a voice crackles through the mic, cutting through the noise. “yo, yo, yo, we got a real one up next! fresh off that new heat, straight killin’ the game—make some noise for ‘thanos’!” you freeze, snapping your head to the stage as the crowd cheers. “…and he’s goin’ up against the beast, the local legend, the one and only jace ‘the hammer!’”

there’s no way. you blink, trying to process it, but everything’s too dark, shadows everywhere, making you second-guess yourself. but then, you hear it—his voice. your stomach sinks. this is real. subong is here. for a second, you think you might pass out. he’s standing there, center stage, all cocky confidence, rapping like he owns the room. you wish you could ignore it, wish you could pretend he’s just another guy on stage, but he isn’t. and you can’t. and then it happens. his eyes sweep across the crowd, like he’s eating up the attention, and then they land on you. he freezes. just for a second—just long enough for his flow to falter, the words dying on his tongue. the beat keeps going, but he doesn’t, and the guy he’s battling jumps in, taking advantage of the opening. subong blinks, shakes his head, tries to recover—but it’s too late. he’s lost the rhythm, lost the momentum, and the battle ends with subong’s opponent eating up the win. the crowd erupts, but subong doesn’t hear any of it. he stands there for a second, chest rising and falling like he can’t believe it—like he can’t believe he actually lost. then, without another word, he shoves the mic into someone’s hand and disappears behind the stage.

someone else takes the spotlight almost immediately, the next rappers stepping up, music booming through the speakers again. you turn to the guy beside you, grabbing his wrist. “i wanna leave.” he frowns. “what? why?” you glance toward the side of the stage, your stomach twisting. subong won’t just leave it alone—you know him. “i’m just—i’m kinda tired.” the nervousness in your voice alarms him. “are you okay? what’s wrong?” “nothing. i just don’t wanna be here right now.” he studies you, and you can tell the exact moment he realizes how tense you are, how your shoulders are stiff, how you haven’t stopped glancing over your shoulder. his expression softens, just a little. “hey,” he says, voice quieter now. “it’s okay. i’ll take you home.” “yeah?” “of course.” you don’t move when he leans in, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. and it feels like… nothing. just lips on lips, a fleeting warmth that barely registers. your chest feels tight, like you need to shake something off, drown something out. so you kiss him back, harder this time, pressing in, searching for something. maybe it’s the adrenaline, maybe it’s the way seeing subong on that stage messed with your head, knocked you off center. maybe you just want to prove to yourself that you can feel that rush with someone else. but you don’t. no matter how deep the kiss goes, no matter how much you try to lose yourself in it, there’s nothing there.

and just a second later, he’s ripped away from you—shoved back so hard he stumbles, nearly knocking into the bar behind him. and when you look up, you already know. subong stands there, shoulders tense, and his eyes locked on you. “what the fuck are you doing?!” “me?! what the fuck are you doing, subong?!” the guy composes himself and goes back next to you with a strained expression, one of his hands caressing his side. “what’s your problem, man?!” “who the fuck is this?” subong demands, his eyes never leaving yours. you exhale sharply. “just leave me alone.” disbelief flashes across his face like you’ve just insulted him. “nah, what the fuck is this?” he gestures vaguely between you and the guy. “this who you’re with now?” the guy straightens up. “is there a problem?” subong laughs, but there’s no humor in it. “yeah, there’s a fucking problem. who the fuck are you?” “just go, subong.” you cut in quickly. “no. i’m not fucking leaving.”

the guy beside you steps in, placing himself between you and subong. “you know this asshole?” he asks you. you sigh, “he’s… we used to be friends,” you reply. “yeah, and i’ve probably fucked her more times than you have, bro,” subong adds, a smirk on his face. “don’t listen to him,” you tell the guy before redirecting your attention to subong. “you’re being more than ridiculous right now. stop it. leave us alone.” he just stares, like he didn’t even hear you. like you didn’t just tell him to fuck off. “ridiculous?” he repeats, like the word itself it’s funny to him. “you wanna know what’s fucking ridiculous? you showing up here with—” he finally looks at the guy, eyes dragging over him like he’s barely worth acknowledging “—this.” “enough! i said… leave us alone.” “no, we need need to talk.” “she told you to leave, man.” the guy interrupts. wrong move. subong’s lips curl into something mean. “and who the fuck are you to tell me what to do?” he sizes him up, scoffing. the guy doesn’t back down. he squares his shoulders, keeping himself between you and subong like he actually thinks that’ll stop him. subong steps closer, just enough to invade his space. you step forward, grabbing the guy’s arm. “seriously, let’s just go—”

subong’s hand shoots out, grabbing his collar. the guy shoves him back instantly, and that’s all it takes. subong’s always been quick to anger, and now he’s pissed. “relax,” the guy says, lifting his hands like he’s trying to de-escalate, but subong’s past that. “relax? you want me to relax when you’re out here kissing my girl?” the guy exhales through his nose. “you wanna fight me over her that bad?” he shakes his head. “man, you already lost once tonight.” subong’s expression shifts in an instant. his shoulders go tense, his nostrils flare, and his jaw locks so tight you swear you can hear his teeth grind. he snaps, swinging first. it’s fast, a punch aimed straight for the guy’s jaw, but he dodges, stepping back just in time. the guy doesn’t waste time. he drives forward, ramming his shoulder into subong’s chest, sending him stumbling back. for a second, you think it might end there—but of course, it doesn’t. subong recovers quick, too quick. he surges forward, grabbing the guy’s shirt and yanking him down just to throw a knee into his ribs. the guy grunts, shoving him off, and then they’re both swinging. fists connect, curses fly, and you can barely keep up. the guy tries to hold his own, landing a few hits, but subong barely flinches. he’s fueled by something else, and he’s not stopping. one punch lands hard against the guy’s cheek, snapping his head to the side. another follows, a brutal hit to his jaw that makes him stumble. then another. and another. the guy grunts, arms coming up to shield himself, but subong doesn’t let up. he grabs the front of his shirt, yanking him forward just to slam his fist into his face again.

blood splatters. and that’s when you snap out of it. “subong, stop!” he doesn’t hear you. “subong!” he pulls back for another hit, and you move before you even think. you grab him by his shirt, using all your strength to shove him back. he stumbles, losing his grip on the guy, his eyes wild when they snap to yours. “what the fuck is wrong with you?!” you scream, chest heaving. subong’s nostrils flare, hands still clenched into fists like he’s seconds away from going back for more. the guy groans, wiping blood from his face. “you broke my fucking nose, man! you’re insane!” he yells. “shut the fuck up,” subong spits, but before he can go at him again, you shove him harder. “leave him alone!” his breathing is heavy, his eyes dark, burning into yours. for a second, you think he might listen, that the fight might finally be over. but then, in one swift movement, he grabs your wrist. “what are you—” you barely get the words out before he pulls you with him, dragging you through the crowd, past the stage. “let go of me!” you struggle against his grip, but he doesn’t stop. people turn to look, but no one moves to intervene. they just watch. before you know it, you’re backstage, away from the lights, away from the eyes—trapped in a space that feels too small.

subong finally stops, shoving you back against the wall. you barely have a second to catch your breath before you’re shoving him off. “what the fuck is wrong with you?! what the fuck was all of that about?! huh?!” you slam your hands against his chest, but he barely moves. his jaw clenches, and when he speaks, his voice is rough. “what the fuck is wrong with me?! you’re really asking me that?! when you’re the one out there acting like a desperate fucking slut?!” your head jerks back, a bitter laugh ripping from your throat. “are you fucking serious right now?! you just beat the shit out of him, and you’re mad at me?! for what?! for moving the fuck on?!” “yeah, i fucking am!” he snaps. before you can react, he steps in, closing the space between you in an instant. his hands come up, slamming against the wall on either side of your head. your whole body tenses. he’s seething, breath ragged and reeking of cheap liquor and god knows what else. “why?!” “because you’re mine!” “yours?! fuck off!” you shove at him again, hard. “and take a goddamn shower while you’re at it. you smell like a fucking alleyway.”

his nostrils flare. “yeah? well, you smell like a cheap whore.” rage flares hot in your chest. “right, because you’d fucking know, wouldn’t you?” you sneer. his head tilts, tongue pressing against the inside of his cheek. “at least i don’t pretend to have fucking standards. what’s his name, huh?” your stomach turns, but you don’t let it show. instead, you smile. “why? you jealous? go cry about it, asshole.” he leans in, voice dropping to a whisper. “you know he’s just using you, right? you’re nothing but a warm hole to him.” your hand flies up before you can think better of it, shoving his face away. “yeah. like that wasn’t exactly what i was to you too, motherfucker.” he stumbles back a step, running a hand over his jaw. “we never talked about what the fuck we wanted, or what we expected from each other. so don’t—don’t—” “that’s what you tell yourself? that you didn’t lead me on? that you didn’t fuck with my head for months?!” you cut him off. “you’re a fucking coward, subong. too fucking scared to admit you wanted me, but the second i move on, suddenly you give a shit?” “move on? to who? that fucking loser? you think he actually gives a shit about you?” “and you do?” “you can’t just act like we never fucking happened!” “we didn’t happen, that’s the thing!” you shoot back. “you didn’t want to be with me like that,” your voice wavers, but you force yourself to hold your ground. “so you don’t get to fucking act like this. you don’t get to be jealous, you don’t get to start fights over me, and you sure as hell don’t get to drag me back here like you own me.”

his throat bobs as he swallows. he looks away for a second, like if he doesn’t meet your eyes, this won’t sting as much. like he can pretend this isn’t hitting him the way it is. his fingers twitch at his sides, fists clenching and unclenching like he’s trying to hold onto something—maybe the last shred of whatever this used to be. his breath comes sharp through his nose, the kind that’s meant to steady him but doesn’t do a damn thing. “i didn’t mean it like that,” he mutters, voice rough around the edges. “i don’t—i don’t own you.” but there’s something bitter in the way he says it, like he hates that it’s true. like he hates that he ever let it get to this point. you’re not his anymore. you never were, really. “then stop acting like it! don’t try to ruin everything just because you can’t handle the fact that i moved the fuck on!” for a second, he doesn’t say anything. his eyes flick over your face, tongue running over his teeth like he’s trying to stop himself from saying something worse. but then— “if you had, you wouldn’t have let that motherfucker shove his tongue down your throat right in front of me.” you scoff. “you think i did that on purpose?” he steps in, too close, and you instinctively take a step back. “fuck yeah, you did. you wanted me to see it. you wanted to fucking piss me off.” “you piss yourself off, subong! newsflash! not everything is about you! get over yourself.” “get over myself? you made me look like a fucking idiot out there!” “what the fuck are you talking about?” his eyes flash. “you made me lose the fucking battle, man!” you blink, caught off guard for half a second, then roll your eyes. “first of all, i’m not a man. second of all, don’t blame that shit on me.” “right. it’s never your fucking fault, huh?” he shakes his head. “you just get to do whatever the fuck you want and act like it doesn’t affect me.” you throw your hands up. “if you weren’t such a fucking asshole, maybe this wouldn’t have happened!” “yeah?!” “yeah!”

and then there’s silence. thick, heavy silence. his breathing is still ragged, his hands still curled into fists at his sides. your heart is pounding, your own fists clenched just as tight. then subong scoffs, shaking his head. “you’re so fucking full of shit.” “excuse me?” “you wanna talk about me being an asshole when you’ve been ignoring me for months? like i didn’t fucking exist.” the pain in his voice is evident and it catches you off guard. “i wasn’t—i didn’t ignore you. i was trying to heal. you’re seriously throwing that in my face right now?” “yeah, i am. don’t act like you’re the only one who got hurt.” “don’t do that.” “do what? tell the truth? you fucking blocked me, girl!” “no! don’t—don’t twist shit around just to make yourself feel better,” you snap. “you know exactly why i did it. don’t act like you’re the fucking victim.” “who is it then? you?” he scoffs. “oh, eat shit, subong! you never fucking came to see me!” you throw your arms out, exasperated. “not once! you could’ve fixed this, but you didn’t.” his jaw clenches, but he doesn’t look away. “you think i didn’t want to?” “i don’t know what the fuck you wanted!” your voice cracks, but you don’t care. “i called! and texted you every single fucking day!” “and you think that’s enough?! after everything?!” "i almost fucking overdosed!" he yells. "i was at my fucking lowest, and you—" he lets out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. "you weren't there." you shake your head, anger bubbling in your chest. "don't put that on me, subong. you did that to yourself," you snap, voice sharp. "don't fucking guilt trip me with that." "are you serious?" “what do you want me to say? did you expect me to just forget everything and come back to you like nothing happened? you promised me—how many times?—that you weren’t gonna do that shit anymore, and here we are! and not only are you trying to make me feel like a fucking piece of shit for it, but you’re also acting like this—all of this—is my fault? when you were the one who decided i wasn’t good enough to be anything more than a fuck buddy?”

his expression falters—just a flash of something almost guilty—but then he scoffs, masking it with anger. “you’re really trying to act like you didn’t fucking replace me the second i was gone?” “replace you?” you repeat, incredulous. “you can’t be serious right now. i wasn’t the one fucking other people when we were…. whatever we were!” he freezes, his face draining of color for a split second. “don’t bring that shit up.” “oh, I’ll bring it up, alright. because you can’t say that shit to me when you were too busy screwing around while i was waiting for you to call me your fucking girlfriend.” he opens his mouth to respond, but before he can, a group of people walk past, glancing over at the scene. a couple of them whisper, eyes flicking nervously from you to subong. his face hardens, irritation flashing across his features, and without warning, he grabs your wrist. “what the fuck are you looking at?” he snaps at them. the group quickly averts their gazes, pretending they weren’t just watching him. he yanks you away and you struggle for a moment, trying to free yourself from his grip, but he doesn’t let go. you’re too caught up in the heat of the moment to really think about where he’s taking you. before you know it, you’re being shoved through a door into a dimly lit room backstage, the door slamming shut behind him with a force that echoes in the silence. the room is small, cluttered with his belongings—bags, jackets, and scattered items. a mirror with round vanity lights casts a dull glow over the space, reflecting the mess on the counter: a half-empty water bottle, energy drink cans, his vape, a lighter, a bunch of candy wrappers and a few crumpled papers.

“you need to stop doing that!” you snap. “dragging me around like i’m—i don’t know—like i’m some puppet!” he ignores your words. “listen,” he says, “i tried to make it right, okay? i did.” “calling me? texting me?” you scoff, disbelief laced in your voice. “that’s what you think making it right looks like? all you ever did was send bullshit messages—half insults, half nothing at all.” you shake your head. “if you actually meant it, you would’ve come to me. you know where i live, where i work—you had every chance to show up, to prove that you actually gave a damn. but you didn’t.” his voice shakes now. “i thought… i thought you didn’t fucking need me anymore! i thought you’d be better off without me!” “better off without you?! that’s the dumbest excuse i’ve ever heard!” before you can stop yourself, you shove him, hard enough that he stumbles back a step. “you were my fucking best friend, you idiot!” your voice cracks as a tear rolls down your cheek, and you have to look away. “and i…” the words tangle in your throat. you swallow hard, forcing them out. “i fucking loved you.”

the words hit him like a fist to the gut. he swallows, his throat suddenly dry. because he knows. he knows exactly how that feels. he’s loved you too—probably longer than he even realized. but he’s never said it. not properly. not in a way that mattered anyway. and now? now it sounds like it’s too fucking late. “loved,” he repeats. “past tense?” you don’t answer. “you don’t—you don’t love me anymore?” the words slip out before he can stop them, and he hates how pathetic they sound, how fucking vulnerable they make him. “subong i—i’m sorry, i can’t… i can’t do this,” you murmur, voice barely above a whisper. “answer me,” he presses, stepping closer, his pulse thundering in his ears. “please.” “i’m not talking about this,” you say firmly, reaching for the door. but he moves faster, pressing his hand against it, keeping you trapped in the small room with him. you squeeze your eyes shut, inhaling sharply. “i don’t want to see you again, subong.” “i do.” “well, i don’t.” “why not?” “because it fucking hurts!” the words barely leave your lips before the weight of everything crashes down on you all at once. “it… it hurts.” your throat burns, and suddenly, you can’t hold it back anymore. a choked sob rips through you, and before you can stop yourself, you’re crying.

subong’s eyes widen for half a second, like he doesn’t know what to do with the sight of you breaking down in front of him. but then, without hesitation, he reaches for you. “i know,” he murmurs, wrapping his arms around you, pulling you into his chest. “i know, baby.” the warmth of him, the familiarity, the way he holds you…it all feels too fucking good. too safe. too much like home. you sob into his shirt, fists clutching at the fabric, body shaking as months’ worth of pain and anger pour out of you. he holds you tighter, one hand cradling the back of your head, the other resting firm against your waist. “i’m sorry,” he breathes.

you suck in a sharp breath, realization slamming into you. and just like that, the warmth turns suffocating. “no,” you whisper, pushing against his chest. he stiffens. “what—” “get off me.” he hesitates, grip loosening slightly, but you shove harder, forcing space between you. “fuck, subong, what the hell am i doing?” he looks at you, confused, almost dazed, like he doesn’t understand why you’re suddenly pulling away. “baby—” “don’t call me that,” you cut him off. “i can’t—i can’t do this with you.” his jaw tightens. “you don’t mean that. you know you don’t.” “i do! because you fucking broke me!” you yell, hands trembling. “and i hate that you still make me feel like this!” you pause, trying to catch your breath, wiping at your face furiously. you hate the way the tears cling to your skin. you hate even more that he’s standing there, watching you cry. you force yourself to steady your voice. “i’m leaving.” “no, you’re not.” he’s there—blocking the door. you let out a frustrated breath, shoving at him again, but he doesn’t move an inch. “subong, move.” nothing. he doesn’t even blink. “is he your boyfriend?” the question throws you off balance. your brows furrow, and for a moment, the anger is eclipsed by confusion. “what?” “that guy. is he your boyfriend?” you exhale sharply, shaking your head as you glare at him. “jesus christ, subong, really?” “is he?” “it’s none of your business,” the words are clipped, laced with venom. his eyes darken. “none of my—?” he drags a hand through his hair, like he’s barely keeping himself together. for a second, it looks like he might actually lose it. “seriously? you can’t even say no?” “why does it matter?!” you snap. “it fucking matters to me!” your heart pounds. you don’t know why it’s so hard to answer, why the words feel like they’re lodged in your throat. his patience wears thin. “fucking hell, just—” “no!” you cut him off. “he’s not my boyfriend, okay?!” you shake your head. “did you fuck him?” “are you serious right now?” “answer the fucking question,” he demands, stepping closer. you scoff, shaking your head. “you’re actually insane.” “fucking answer!” “yes!” the word rips out of you before you can stop it. “yeah, i did. happy now?”

for a moment, he doesn’t react. he just stares at you, like the air has been knocked from his lungs. his jaw clenches, his nostrils flare. but nothing can stop the thought from sinking its claws into him—someone else touching you, having you, getting what he let slip through his fingers. it makes him sick. and it’s his own damn fault. he knows he has no right to be angry. no right to feel this way. but the jealousy curdles in his stomach, and before he can stop himself, the words tear from his mouth like a whip. “you’re a fucking whore.” the second he says it, he hates himself for it. but he doesn’t take it back. your fury is instant, white-hot.“fuck you! don’t call me that!” “i’ll call you whatever the fuck i want!” he snaps. he needs to hurt you, to make you feel even a fraction of what he’s feeling. “you really don’t see how fucking pathetic that is? spreading your legs for some guy who doesn’t even matter?” the words taste like acid in his mouth, but he spits them out anyway. he doesn’t know how else to deal with the anger, the self-hatred he feels. it’s easier to take it out on you than to admit the truth—that he ruined everything, that he’s the reason you were with someone else.

your vision goes red. before you can think, before you can stop yourself, your hand swings up and smacks across his face. his head jerks to the side from the impact, and for a moment, everything is dead silent except for the sharp sound of your ragged breathing. then, slowly, he turns back to you, his jaw tightening, his tongue running over the inside of his cheek like he’s tasting the sting of your palm. “did you just hit me?” his voice is low. oh, he’s angry. “yeah, i fucking did,” you say, your hands trembling. “because you’re a fucking piece of shit!” “you’ve got some fucking nerve!” he seethes, shoving your forehead with two of his fingers, forcing your head back slightly. you slap his hand away, your own anger doubling at the touch. “do that again, and i’ll break your fucking fingers, motherfucker,” you warn. “you just slapped me!” “and you called me a whore twice, subong! i wonder how the fuck i was ever friends with you! you’re a hypocrite!” he steps closer, jabbing a finger in your face. “don’t fucking talk to me like that!” “and i told you many times not to fucking point your finger at me!” you yell, shoving his hand away harder this time. so hard his arm jerks back. “who the fuck do you think you are?! you can’t fucking judge me when you’re the one who—”

his patience snaps. he grabs a nearby chair and hurls it at the wall. it hits with a loud crack, rattling from the impact before toppling over. you flinch, but you don't back down. “real fucking mature.” “you don’t fucking get it.” “why do you even care, huh? you have plenty of other girls to fuck, don’t you?” you spit. “so why the fuck does it matter who i’m with? why is it a problem when you do the exact same shit?” he doesn’t say anything. fine. you’re done here. you reach for the door again, shoving past him. “i’m leaving—” “i lied.” his voice stops you cold. slowly, you turn back, brows furrowing. “what?” he swallows hard. “i lied about it. there was never another girl.” you stare at him in disbelief. “i just—i said that shit to piss you off. to make you hate me. but i never—” he exhales sharply, shaking his head. “i never touched anyone else when i was with you.”

your mind spins, struggling to piece together what he’s saying. he’s lying again. he has to be. “you expect me to believe that?” your voice is defensive. “i don’t give a fuck if you believe me,” he snaps back. “it’s the truth.” your throat tightens. there’s something in his eyes, something desperate, something you’re not used to seeing. “why?” he hesitates. his lips part, then press into a thin line. “because i—” he exhales sharply, looking away for a moment before forcing himself to look at you again. “because i love you. i’ve—” “don’t fucking lie to me, subong.” frustration flashes across his face. “i’m not lying, okay?! i’ve—” “sure as hell you aren’t.” “jesus—can i fucking talk?!” you huff, arms crossing tightly over your chest. your jaw aches from how hard you’re clenching it. but you don’t interrupt again. you let him speak. “i’ve loved you for so fucking long, and it scared the shit out of me. you were my best friend and i didn’t—i didn’t know how to do it. how to be with you without fucking it all up.” you shake your head, gripping your arms tighter. “you can’t just say this shit and think it fixes everything,” you whisper, voice trembling. “you loved me, and you never told me. you preferred this… this shit between us rather than just… being fucking honest. you—” your breath shudders and you stop to breathe for a moment. “you’re confusing me, subong.”

he sighs. you can see it in his eyes—the regret, the pain, the anger at himself. then, he steps closer. his hands find your face, fingers gentle as they cup your cheeks. his thumbs move carefully, wiping away the tears you hadn’t even realized were still falling. his touch is soft—so fucking soft it almost breaks you. you squeeze your eyes shut, swallowing against the lump in your throat. you shouldn’t let him do this. shouldn’t let him hold you like this, shouldn’t let yourself sink into the warmth of his hands. but you do. because it’s him. “i’m sorry, baby” he murmurs, his breath warm against your face. “fuck, i’m so sorry.” his voice is lower now, and when you open your eyes, he’s already looking at you—his brows furrowed. “i didn’t mean to hurt you,” he continues, his hands steady on your face. “i swear to god, i didn’t.” “but you did.” “i know,” he whispers. “i was a fucking idiot.” his thumbs still trace slow paths along your skin, like he’s trying to ground himself in the feel of you. you try to look away, but he won’t let you. his grip isn’t forceful, but it’s firm—just enough to keep you there. “i can’t stop thinking about you,” he says, his brows furrowing deeper, like it physically hurts him to admit it. “no matter what i do—it’s always you.” “don’t—” “it’s the truth,” he cuts in, his hands sliding down to your jaw, his fingers just barely brushing your neck. “i wake up thinking about you. i fall asleep thinking about you. every fucking song i write is about you. every stupid little thing reminds me of you.” you shake your head, blinking back tears. “stop it.” “i can’t,” he breathes. “i don’t know how.”

he leans in slightly, his lips barely an inch from yours. “tell me you don’t feel the same, and i’ll go.” your heart pounds so hard it hurts. he’s so close… and the way he’s looking at you, like he’s daring you to push him away, makes something snap inside you. before he can say another word, you grab his shirt and yank him down, crashing your lips against his. subong freezes for half a second, like he wasn’t expecting it, but then he groans into your mouth, his hands gripping at your waist as he kisses you back just as hard. he barely gives you a second to breathe before he’s backing you up, walking you straight into the wall. the impact makes a sharp gasp escape you, but he swallows it down, one hand threading into your hair, tilting your head back as his mouth moves against yours.

then it happens—your breath catches, and before you can stop it, a tear slips down your cheek. he stops. his lips hover just over yours, his chest rising and falling against you, and he pulls back just enough to look at you. “are you okay?” you don’t answer. instead, you pull him back in, your fingers curling around the back of his neck. you kiss him harder, and he lets you—lets you take what you need, lets you pour everything you can’t say into this. his fingers tangle in your hair, tugging just enough to pull your head back before pressing his forehead to yours. “tell me what’s wrong,” he murmurs, breath hot against your lips. in a broken whisper, you finally say it. “i need you.” he’s been waiting to hear that. for months, it’s been the only thing on his mind—you. every time he got high, every time he tried to flirt with someone else, every time he told himself it didn’t matter, that you didn’t matter. but it was all a lie. because you did. you always did. and now you’re here, in his arms, needing him. and he’s so fucking mad at himself for wasting all this time, for pushing you away, for pretending he didn’t want this when you’ve been the only thing he’s wanted.

that’s all it takes. he’s on you in an instant, his hands gripping your waist as his mouth crashes against yours. he walks with you, never breaking the kiss, his fingers pressing into your sides, guiding you until your legs bump against the edge of a small table. before you can steady yourself, his hands move to your hips, helping you up until you’re perched on top of it. his lips leave yours, dragging along your jaw and your neck. one hand slides up, fingers curving over your breast through the thin fabric of your shirt. the touch alone makes a soft moan slip past your lips. he swallows the sound with another kiss, deep and greedy, before tugging your shirt up, his palms skimming your skin as he pulls it over your head. his other hand moves with purpose, working the clasp of your bra. the second it falls away, his mouth is on you. you gasp when his tongue flicks over your nipple, your head falling back as pleasure shoots through you. “gonna make you feel good, baby,” he promises, his breath hot on your skin as he switches to your other breast, his teeth grazing your nipple just enough to make you squirm. his free hand slides down your stomach, unbuttoning your pants with practiced ease before slipping between your thighs. you spread them instinctively, your breath hitching when his fingers brush against the damp fabric of your panties. “you’re so wet for me already,” he says, pulling back to look at you, his eyes dark with hunger.

subong takes his time peeling your pants off, pressing soft kisses to your thighs, your knees, your ankles. once they’re gone, he hooks his fingers into your panties, dragging them down at the same agonizing pace, his lips following their path. he tosses them aside without a second thought. then he’s on his knees, hands spreading your thighs wider as the cool air hits your skin, making you shiver. “let me show you how sorry i am, yeah?” you nod slowly in response. subong leans in, his breath hot against you, and you bite your lip, anticipation coiling tight in your stomach. and then his tongue is on you, licking a long stripe up your center, parting your delicate folds, exploring your wetness. you gasp when it finds your clit, your hands flying to his purple hair as his tongue swirls around it in slow circles. “f-fuck, yeah, right there,” you whimper, and he hums against you in approval.

he focuses all his attention on it, flicking his tongue over the sensitive nub before sucking it gently into his mouth, his cheeks hollowing out as he applies gentle pressure. you feel one of his fingers slide inside you, then two, curling them upwards and hitting that spot that makes your eyes roll back. his tongue never leaves your clit, licking and sucking in perfect rhythm with his fingers, and you can feel that familiar pressure building in your lower stomach. your hand travels to the side of his face, your thumb caressing his cheek as he works you. moans grow louder, your hips bucking involuntarily against his face. “subong—” you try to speak, but the words die in your throat—the pleasure too strong. he smirks, feeling you tightening around his fingers. “that’s it, baby” his voice is muffled against you. “cum for me.” and you do, your back arching, knuckles white from gripping the side of the table, a cry tearing from your throat as you fall apart. his mouth never stops, drawing every last wave of pleasure from you until you’re boneless, panting.

you try to catch your breath as he stands, pulling you into him, his mouth claiming yours again, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. your fingers tremble slightly as they find the hem of his shirt, slipping beneath the fabric. he shudders under your touch, muscles tensing before he exhales, letting you lift the shirt over his head. it falls somewhere behind him as your hands roam his chest. this isn’t like before. like the other times you’ve had sex. there’s something different in the way his fingers brush your skin, in the way he watches you like he’s afraid to blink, afraid to miss a second of this. you reach for his waistband, tugging at it, and he lets you, his breathing uneven as he watches your hands work him free. his pants and boxers slip to the floor, and he steps out of them, never once breaking contact.

“do you… do you have a condom?” you ask quietly. he stills, his hands resting on your hips as he looks at you. his brows pull together slightly. “no,” he admits, then asks, “do you?” you shake your head. “no.” “shit,” he exhales, his forehead falling to your shoulder. you can tell he’s frustrated—not at you, but at the situation. “it’s… it’s okay. we don’t need one,” you add softly. his head snaps back up. “you sure?” he asks, and you nod. “i want to feel you.” your words are the confirmation he needs. he grabs your thighs before pulling you closer to the edge of the table, spreading them apart to find room between them. his raw tip presses against your clit and you take a deep breath when he starts grinding against you, his stiff dick sliding across your wet slit. you both moan at the feeling, but nothing compares to the gasp that escapes both of your lips the moment he slides inside of you.

he’s slow at first, letting you adjust to the feeling, his hands holding you in place as he sinks in deeper, stretching you around him. you try to steady yourself, holding onto the side of the table with one of your hands again. his breath is uneven, and each slow, measured thrust makes you ache for more. but then his pace shifts. his grip tightens, fingers digging into your skin as he pulls back and thrusts in harder and faster. the sound of skin slapping against skin fills the space between you, mixed with your breathless moans and his ragged groans. when you meet his gaze, his brows are furrowed, his lips parted. you can see it all written on his face: how much he’s wanted this, how long he’s been waiting, how badly he’s yearned for you. he looks like he’s barely holding himself together, like he’s afraid he won’t last because you feel too fucking good. “fuck,” he grits out, voice strained, his fingers flexing against your hips. “i missed you s-so fucking much…” his words cut off in a groan, his head dropping forward, forehead pressing to yours as he fucks you like he’s trying to make up for all the lost time. “i missed this… mmm… missed this pretty pussy of y-yours.” he drives into you harder, like he’s trying to claim you, like he’s trying to erase every trace of anyone else who’s ever touched you—muttering curses under his breath like he’s punishing himself as much as he’s fucking you. your nails scrape down his back, leaving red streaks in their wake, and he groans at the sting, at the way you cling to him. “fuck, baby—” he gasps, voice rough. “was he better than me? tell me,” he demands, his thrusts turning brutal, each one punctuating his words. “did he—did he fuck you like this? mmh? shit… did he make you cum like i-i do?” there’s anger in his voice. not at you—at himself. for waiting too long, for not telling you the truth when he had the chance, for letting someone else have you. you shake your head in response. his hand grips your chin, forcing you to look at him. “answer me.” “n-no!” you whimper “he… he didn’t, baby. only you—mmph!—only you make me f-feel this good.”

his grip on your chin tightens for a second before he releases you, his hand sliding down to wrap around your throat instead. not squeezing, just holding—just feeling you. his pace doesn’t slow, if anything, it gets rougher, like your answer wasn’t enough to satisfy the anger. “that’s right,” he grits out, sweat slicking his skin. “he could never…he could never fuck you like this.” his other hand grips your hip hard enough to bruise as he slams into you, making you cry out. you hold onto him, and he loves it—loves feeling you claim him the way he’s claiming you now. and fuck, he needs this, needs to remind himself that you’re here, wrapped around him—that you’re his. “look,” he mutters, commanding. “look how fucking g-good you’re taking me.” your breath hitches as your eyes drop, and fuck—seeing it is different. watching the way his dick disappears inside you, the way your body clenches around him, the way he’s completely buried in you, over and over again… “see that?” he pants. “you were made for me. this was fucking made for me.” his hand moves again, sliding between your bodies, fingers finding your clit and rubbing tight, precise circles. “shit—subong!” you let out a broken moan. “y-yeah… fuck, yeah, just like that!” a whimper slips from your lips when subong fists your hair, tugging your head back up until your eyes meet his again. “say it,” he practically pleads. “say that you're mine.” “i-i'm yours!" you gasp, your voice shaking, your whole body trembling from the intensity of him. “i'm fucking yours…mmm… always been.” “i’m yours too, baby.”

his thrusts grow frantic and his breath comes in harsh, uneven bursts. all he can hear is the sound of his name falling from your lips in desperate, breathless moans. he swears he’s never heard something as beautiful. you can tell he is close, holding you in place as he leans over you, his forehead pressing against yours. your body tenses, your gummy walls clenching around him, his fingers still pressed on your clit as he pounds into you, making it impossible for you to hold back. your body tenses, and your free hand clings to the back of his neck with desperation as you kiss him, trying to muffle your whimpering. “gonna cum for me, b-baby?” he whispers, pulling away for a moment. “gonna—mmh! gonna cum on my cock?” you can’t even nod. his words are like a spark, and you can’t hold it back anymore. your body snaps, the pleasure flooding you. “subong!” you cry out, legs shaking. he watches you, his name on your lips, and the sight of you completely undone drives him to the edge. with a final, deep thrust, he follows you, quickly pulling out, his release spilling into your lower stomach. his face contorts, a strangled gasp escaping him as he rides out his own climax. he stays there for a moment, his body pressed against yours, both of you breathing heavily, sweat-slicked skin sticking together. “i love you,” you whisper, hands running through his messy hair. “i love you too, señorita,” he smirks, his hand cupping your cheek before leaning in to give you a small peck on the lips. “i missed you.”

subong is a good boyfriend. or at least he tries to be. he still messes up sometimes, still says things without thinking, still gets into fights he shouldn’t, but he’s trying. you see it in the way he waits for you after work, hands shoved into his pockets like he’s trying to play it cool, but you know he’s been standing there for a while. in the way he walks on the outside of the sidewalk, even though you never asked him to. you see it in the way he always grabs an extra drink when he stops by the convenience store, handing it to you without a word, like he just knew you’d want one. in the way he texts you did you eat? before he even says hello. in the way he always grumbles about carrying your bag when it looks too heavy, but takes it anyway. in the way he lets you steal his hoodies, rolling his eyes when you show up wearing one but never actually asking for it back. you see it in the way he lets you mess with his hair, even when he pretends to hate it. in the way he looks at you, like he still can’t believe you’re his. in the way he says your name, soft around the edges. in the way he tells you he loves you—not just with words, but in a hundred different ways, every single day.

there’s no confusion anymore. no second-guessing, no wondering where you stand with each other. he wants you, and he’s not afraid to say it. he tells you all the time, in every way he knows how. sometimes it’s casual, like when he looks at you in the middle of a conversation, something soft in his eyes, and says, “you know i love you, right?” like he just needs you to know. and then there are times when he’s shameless about it. like the time he made it his entire mission to embarrass you in front of both of your friends, throwing an arm around your shoulders and grinning as he declared, “isn’t my girlfriend the prettiest woman you’ve ever seen? no offense to you, semi.” there’s a beat of silence before half of them go “what?!” while the others just exchange knowing looks. “wait—dude, since when?!” namgyu asks. “oh, come on,” semi scoffs, rolling her eyes. “like we didn’t all see this coming.” subong just smirks, pulling you a little closer, dropping a kiss to your cheek. he’s here, and he’s yours, and he makes sure you know it.

you’re still best friends. you still laugh until your stomach hurts, still steal food off each other’s plates, still shove at each other like you’re kids. except now he kisses you after. or before. or sometimes instead of shoving you back. he’s still stubborn, still gets on your nerves more than anyone else. he’s not perfect, but he never pretends to be. and maybe that’s what makes it feel so easy. there’s nothing to prove, nothing to question. just the two of you, exactly as you are, exactly as you’ve always been. just you and him.

if you’ve read this far, i love you, let’s get married pookie ong

[burstinn]

THE EVERY GAY MANS DREAM READER

TALL, BUFF, BIG BOOBS AND ASS everything

Can't find no good pic for this so..

This post includes:Ghost, Graves, Price, Soap, Nikto, Riptide, Krueger, Konig, Alejandro, Rudy, Gaz, Horangi, Makarov, Velikan, Keegan, Roach. In that order

Yes I wrote all those, yes because I haven't written in a while

Notes:

- NSFW and SFW (Bottom male and top male reader mentioned)

-since y'all like the big buff n' tall male reader, made him bigger and taller basically mixed everything I wrote about male reader, tall, big buff, big cake, big boobs it's like a package in one this will probably be the last of this type of reader since running out ideas. It was hard making original headcanons 💔💔.

-Omg I haven't written in a while so like this might get idk boring?

- Yes again headcanons,you're favs

- strictly MALE READER not Gn rn

- readers age is ambiguous but if you can't think and want an age for reader my thinking is somewhere near late 30s or early 40s

- Some of the HCS have where y'all ain't in a relationship some HCS have y'all r in a relationship

- these headcanons definitely are mischaracterized but let me pretend for a bit 💔💔

- Tiktok got to me now I have brainrot language, so Trigger warning wooohh braiinroot

- can't believe this post was long enough to make my phone lag just a lil bit

- When he first saw you of course he was 😦😧😮

GHOST

- Like okay overkill, like you're taller, buffer and probably have a huger cock??? (Something he can investigate.. For purposes..)

Like you also got smoobs?? A plumpy ass??

Like save some for the rest Jesus 😒😒

- Nonstop staring secretly ofc, You be like in a room then you feel someone staring just to see Ghost somewhere in the corner of the room. You can't tell if he's staring or not but being that you are in an empty room.. Yknow it's kind of obv--

- BUT if you are not in an empty room you will not shake off the staring I mean holy shit look at you like 😨😨🍑✋

- You can literally hear him breathing heavily under his mask like how can he control himself when HE a person who is supposed to be looked up to literally and figuratively now has to look up at YOU?? do you know what does to a person??

-That's right it makes them freaky..

-Probably jerks off to you too

- I mean who doesn't want to get railed by a 7 ft tall man? Especially ESPECIALLY when you've been the supposed dominant person your whole life??

- OMG immediately Cumming to the thought

- I mean he won't mind topping you it also drives his own ego seeing a dominant man get absolutely wrecked, imagine the begging and whining

- plus he won't mind being the person who feels protected not always doing the protecting like 💔💔 he wants to feel protected too 😞

GRAVES

- Immediate gay awakening

- thinks making his western accent more prominent would make you think he sounds more hot

- Will dress up as a cowboy and will will ask (beg) you to do it as well

- because you know.. Hat thing.. Riding.. Graves grabs your hat puts it on his head or Graves grabs his hat puts it on your head, either way one of you is riding something and it ain't a horse

- because of the amazing quote on who ever came up w/ that is "save a horse ride a cowboy"

- Graves is obviously the type of guy to look at your ass and whistle maybe slap it, nah definitely slap it

PRICE

- He thinks of you like a bear

- like You're soo- big and cuddly? Definitely intimidating

- I mean you're near the same age bracket so it's not bad to have some.. Thoughts right?

- You're definitely hairy underneath or not but pls be he wants pubes to tickle his nose

- if you don't have a beard for reader then he would KILL to see have a beard like aughh perfect bear look, if you have a beard immediately cumming(/j) or (not /j)

- Like imagine you and price who are basically like bears like parent bears and and you the other 141 boys are like your children 🥺🥺

SOAP

- DEFINITELY became more gayer

- errrmmm.. Like his eyes are BASICALLY near like chest height

- bumping into you and his face touches your chest like omgg.. Such an accident 💔💔

- Obviously flirting about going to pound town

- like imagine You and Him? In a relationship? Having the most feral sex??? Like it's obv jokes (it's not)

- He would also do anything to see a big man whimper like a little bicth slut, who wouldn't want to see a demon of a man roll his eyes back and whine like a wheoeororoe❤, I mean if he tops I'd imagine him saying "cmon you're a big boy ain't cha'? You can handle a few more inches". While you are also getting the malevolent backshots.

- He would also want a big strong arm to man handle him as he takes the most vigorous backshots known to man

- Have you ever thought or seen a very tall wall like 10 or 11 ft high and you being you, Soap asks (demands) for you to carry him on your shoulder because he wants to see what's over the wall

NIKTO

- intimidating guy and intimidating guy typa relationship but your not in a relationship.. Yet.

- watch him watch you

- shows off his knife collection to you, yes I think he has a knife collection and he will show it to people that he wants to impress (he wants to get freaky with you)

- I like to think if he strips off the gear he gives the most desperate kind of touchy hug, to those he feels close with of course which is you

- lucky you

RIPTIDE

- Offers to teach you how to swim yknow just in case

- there is none, he wants to see you wet

- tells you to wear a white shirt and shorts because its Essential for training, it's a lie he wants to see the water wet your clothes making it stick to your body.. Yknow the white shirt showing whats underneath and the shorts outlining what package you've been hiding even though you weren't really hiding it

- He gets too distracted, the others are too, he forgets how to teach you

KRUEGER

- indefinite eye contact while your doing it

- likes staring into them, if you get shy and look away he will grab your jaw and make you have eye contact with him

- angry fierce ahh eyes

- he's an emotional grumpy guy, rip off his mask and aggressively kiss his face

- He wants the after sex laying on the chest while the other is rubbing their head, goes both ways.

- trace his tattoos and compliment them the bedroom will be locked the whole day, trust 🙏

KÖNIG

- The same as Ghosts

- Imagine being the one to get carried instead of the one carrying

- König would definitely come up to you and ask to be carried while you kiss his face multiple times❤❤

- Imagine how hard he gets because you have to look down at him to talk like HNGRHRRGGGRGRRR

- Definitely likes giving you homemade arts and crafts gear because you know.. The headcanon where König makes his own gear and what if he does it for other people too as gifts💔

- likes seeing you wear his mask it makes him imagine what people see when they see König definitely a change of perspective. He can see how intimidating you are and he gets hard.

ALEJANDRO

- will definitely compliment you in Spanish when talking about you with other people even when you're in front or behind him.

- I mean you don't understand Spanish right?

- if you don't, you're oblivious and only just watch curiously on what he's talking about. Buuut but but if you do understand you don't tell him you undeestrand this thing literally feeds your ego like Alejandro thinks of you this way? 🥺🥺

- Thigh riding type of guy idc who thigh riding

RUDY

- everytime I look at him he looks like a soft vanilla type

- I know he's a strong guy but look at him

- He wants soft sex 😞😞

- He also likes being complimented if you whisper a praise to him when he's doing ANYTHING. Imagine the babies you'd both have together.

- He likes toddlers and babies and if you do too a plus for him,makes him fall even more 💯💯

GAZ

- One time he Got injured and was sitting on the floor and then He saw you running towards him he simultaneously screamed in fear and how hard he got

- Likes to style your clothes, If he was off the military right now he really really likes fashion and if he sees you.. You can't fashion and he sees you wearing.. That, He's appalled, horrified, mortified I'm over exaggerating. But he is now in charge of your fashion now, But if you do know how to style you both will share tips with eachother. You can share different tips too ❤❤

- drags you in his barracks and strips you of your clothes except shorts.. And he's telling you this because he wants to "style" you.

- We both know damn well that's an excuse to get the boombayah freaky on.. He's just to shy to tell you upfront or he thinks it's fun to tease you like that before you get freaky

HORANGI

- gets freaky..

- Like he understands the women who get all giggly and nervous when they see a big man who can destroy them (ignore König 💔)

- is definitely not above thigh crushing, boob crushing, face sitting he'd do all at as long as it's you

- Like one time he pretended he broke his leg and won't let anyone else carry him until you came, acting all princessy and shit as you carry him bridal style to the medics

- He felt like a prince omg

- will definitely get on you and treat your real life size anime men boobs as a squishy toy

- How long is it and will he be able to take it??? Who knows he will find out!! Basically searched how long can someone's cock be if they are built like a god and is 7ft tall in Google

- someone gotta tell me Horangi's height and basic Google searching ain't doing it for me I'm too lazy to search for one line of a spicy headcanon line mb

MAKAROV

- You're basically ascary dog he owns

- You're tall and intimidating

- You can get information out of people quickly

- And he's not above telling you to torture anyone with a strength and body like yours

- most of the time you get the info done and folded

- Makarov uses you for intimidation and strength buuttt if you ever THINK of betraying him he already has a plan to get rid of someone like you

- Can and will turn you into one of those supersoldiers

- Will make you murder people right in front of him for entertainment and will rewward you!

- you know what reward it will be, Because when he asked what reward you wanted you got a bit to freaky you thought you be dead rn but nah he agreed actually he seems to enjoy it more than you do..

VELIKAN

- He's the dog in this one have you heard his voice?? Rough as hell imagine hearing him grunt

- Sounds cocky as hieeeellll too

- Would definitely like showing off to you since he wants to look cool in front of you

- Like you seen velikans skins?? Definitely wears the best ones to show you he can not only be a trained assassin But can also dress cool as hell

- If you compliment him it like makes his day, will not stop thinking about it

- Like a cool person complimenting a cool person like him? Ego boost (It's him feeling gay)

- This guys definitely a smoker (headcanon!!) Because voice sounds like he smoked 100 packs in 1 day and doesn't drink an ounce of water /jk I love him he's so hot.

- So if you want a smoke he purposely hides the lighter saying.. 'Oh no I asked someone elses lighter.. I don't have mine right now' or like 'my lighter ran out of fuel ohh

- So you have to put the cigarette in your mouth as you touch it with his cigarette to light ur own that type of trope 💫💫

- If you're not a smoker he will try his best to not smoke in front of you will use fresh mints to hide his breath of smoke

- after sex he will want a smoke, outside he goes or you both share the one cigarette

KEEGAN

- is it wrong to want to be choked by a big buff meaty arm?

- yknow the tiktok thing where girls put a ribbon on their boyfriends arm and the girls just put their face in the middle as their faces get squished??

- Yeah he wants that but gay

- will try to compare dick sizes even though yours is OBVIOUSLY the superior one!!

- Heads or tails on who's bottoming tonight

- Would like to be wrapped around your arms if you are hugging or sleeping keeps him warm

- Especially when it's snowing will force you to hug with him. ESPECIALLY when your in a mission and your in the tents he will definitely force you to hug it out with him

ROACH

- remember the other tall HC where the reader wasn't taller than König

- yes roach does the same thing here.. He's crawling on you like a tree

- If he wants a kiss instead of asking he crawls up to you and kisses you

- definitely likes to sit on your shoulders as you walk around, he feels tall like that

- this is like a distance relationship 💔💔

- Likes it when you bend over to talk to him also when you bend over when youre doing sum since it's slappable opportunity

- because bent over = double D cake will be slapped

- How will it fit? By the power of friendship of course!!

- probably more of say gex desperation but you get it

- Obviously switch switch

[quarterlifekitty]

apparently there's an item called mating frame for cats so they can mate comfortably or something idk i just saw it in a glance.

thinking about reader being put in a mating frame built for her, on her hands and knees just with more support and comfort and easier from price to pin her down, keep her from squirming too much, trying to wiggle away from overstimulation.

or have the whole team going at 'er why not, maybe omega reader being bred by all 4 alphas. maybe maybe... thoughts thoughts...

You know, stop me if this is too freaky, but uhhhhh.... I'm on my hybrid shit right now. really playing with my fucking dolls rn. I'm once again getting real weird with it.

Laswell who's in the business of training cat hybrids for show. Nikolai and Price are her golden boys-- they're in their retirement now, but they're still treated like absolute princes. Their ribbons and trophies are all over the walls.

Simon is her current champion. Prized for his even temperament and unique coloring.

Soap and Gaz are in the wings, a bit immature still, but fully grown and waiting for their time in the spotlight.

Like a lot of people, Laswell marries within her field. She met her wife when she was attending shows-- more of an amateur, just one little kitty she enters in some more local events and showings.

You.

You have a few ribbons of your own-- mainly for your sweet disposition.

So, when Laswell and her wife move in together (I'm gonna give her a name for clarity-- let's call her Amara), Laswell sees it as a great opportunity to break into breeding-- something she's always had the intention to do, but never really found the right fit for any of her boys. But she has a feeling they'll like you.

And they do. My god they do. Soap and Gaz are all over you first, still very much energetic and playful, eager to prove themselves. Simon is a bit more aloof, but it doesn't escape the others how he allows you to curl into him when he naps in the sunny spot he's quite territorial over.

Nikolai has you as a little shadow. He takes a lot of pleasure in showing you around the property, and hearing the little bell jingling on your collar behind him as you curiously follow after him.

Price is the most openly affectionate. It makes Soap and Gaz a bit jealous, to be honest-- Price's approval had been harder to earn for them. He's constantly grooming you, pulling you against him to settle in his bed (tells you to humor an old man, hm?)

At first Kate and Amara wanted things to happen naturally, but it became clear after a short amount of time that it wasn't going to happen. Not because you didn't get along with them, but because you're just too skittish and nervous. You take the courtship just fine, but squirm and panic when it finally comes time to get mounted-- so the frame becomes necessary.

But then, of course, they have the difficult job of deciding who gets to break it in with you.

[whokilledsamara]

I love your Homicipher hc, they are so good! Would you be willing to do some N/ SFW for Mr. Chopped too? Like you did for some of the others? I understand if you don't want to or if it makes you uncomfortable, thank you anyway!

MR. CHOPPED N/SFW HCS

a hc list of Mr. Chopped x reader {an: SORRY GUYS IM POSTING MAINLY HCS RN,,, fics for me take a lot longer than usual so im just posting hcs to atleast get some reach.}

warnings! : smut, cunnilingus/blowjob, idk,,, cuckhold

{an: freaky shit,,,, like hes just a head so its kinda hard to fuck. did give him a section for IF he had a body.. MAINLY HIM GIVING HEAD,, i didnt rly know how to write this im sorry!! def will write more tho,,, im into him ngl}

SFW

what it would be like to be in a relationship with Mr. Chopped.

it would be relatively hard to be in a relationship with him for obvious reasons, though not impossible!

the thought of you makes him happy, and especially when you hold him.

he would have Mr. Silvair help most of the time. usually for the romantic aspects of things though.

while Mr. Silvair doesnt quite understand the relationship, he is glad to help.

being a talking head will obviously raise a few insecurities, so just reassure him that you indeed do love him! he gets his feelings hurt easily.

he absolutely loves when you play with his hair. if you put bows in it or decorate it, that will make it all the more special for him.

the first time he bit you when he was sleeping, had him crying for hours. he felt so bad that he harmed you in any way, and it took a while for him to "recover"

he loves kisses! he always shouts things like "Up, Up" or "Desire, Carry!" just so he can kiss you.

if you manage to get a hold of make up or something, he would absolutely love for you to do his makeup. {he likes to feel pretty}

he is a very sensitive boy, also a crybaby. how cuuuttteee...

if Mr. Silvair gives him a body, {ignore that one ending... we dont talk about it} then he wpuld be even more excited to see you.

the moment he gets a body would mean so many hugs and affection as a thank you for saving him.

he gets picked on a lot by the others so he usually tries his best to come to you.

NSFW

sex...?

sex is definitely a hard concept with him.

while yes, it is possible, just not in the way intended.

you could see him more as a pure object for your pleasure honestly, and he wants that.

whether you are amab or afab, he is perfect for the situation.

ive seen this referenced by another writer, but he would be like a "rose toy" or a "fleshlight" as people call it.

its a secret pleasure to watch you go at it with someone else. {ex: Mr. Silvair or someone.}

if he is gifted a body though, he definitely will pay you back for saving him in the first place.

personally he would be a soft and sensual lover with his new body, rarely going rough unless specifically asked to.

he is more of a giving top. definitely not dominant but is a top. he cares more about your pleasure than his. though, he does get all giddy when you wish to go down on his or something.

he is open to literally anything you want, he would have very few limitations on what he would do, but everything is open for discussion.

again, definitely either wants to watch you have sex with someone else, OR wants someone else to watch you and him go at it. {he would prefer Silvair.}

he definitely likes when you pull his hair or use him. will be submissive sometimes.

he is the type to cry during sex...

omfmg i love him sm

{ made by @whokilledsamara }

[phosph-ate]

Hide Away

Dr. Phosphorus x GN!Reader

Summary: Dr. Phosphorus has you feeling things. You are sure these feelings are one-sided, but after hiding from your feelings you come to realize that is not true.

CW: Suggestive themes, 18+, dry humping, biting, you get freaky in a closet, rick refers to you as kid, you are immune to dr phosphorus but no other details of how/what you are is given, no beta.

WC: 0.8k

A/N: divider by cafekitsune. this is just a random idea; I wanted to get freaky in a closet with the skeleton thus this was born. I do plan on making maybe a little series for phosphorus x reader... And maybe a p2 for this with maybe a fem and male reader... idk I'm bouncing ideas around right now. Also, side note, I've only ever written reader inserts or character x oc, and this show has me wanting to do character x character fics... anyway, let's goooo!

You were crumbling. Fast.

You watched Dr. Phosphorus from across the room. Your eyes wandered from his face to his ribs, down to his belt. You needed to know what he was like. What he felt like. You needed him.

“Are you okay?” Nina nudged you.

“Uh,” You looked away from the man you were swooning over. You were hot. Everything was so hot. “I just need some fresh air.”

You turned away from Nina and walked down the hall. As you continued, thoughts plagued you. The glances you would share with Phosphorus, the small touches here and there. It was driving you insane. You figured you could not say anything. So you kept your thoughts to yourself.

You, on autopilot, found a closet and quickly entered it. You needed to get your mind off of him, and immediately. Once you realized you were in a fucking closet, you had to think of a gameplan to get to your room. Maybe you could handle the situation yourself.

You sat down, back against the wall, and shut your eyes tight. The only source of light coming into the room was from under the door. Other than that, you sat in the dark. You sucked in air and placed your head in your hands. Your world was spinning, leaving you to not notice the door opening.

“This is your idea of getting some fresh air?” The closet door shut and suddenly it was not completely dark in the room. You could definitely make out Dr. Phosphorus.

“Oh!” You jumped and tried to scoot further back but realized you could not get any closer to the wall. “I was just- I’m thinking!” You ended up snapping at him.

“About…-”

You could not handle it anymore. “About you!” You tried to keep your voice down. You groaned and hugged yourself. “It’s always you…” You huffed. “I want- No, I need to know what it’s like-”

“What do you need to know?” Oh, he was smug.

“Everything!” You stood up and looked at him, really looked at him. “I want to feel you; I want you to touch me! Dr. Phosphorus-”

“Call me Alex.” He corrected you.

Your face was burning now. Your eyes widened and you sucked in air. “Alex,” You were begging, “I need you.”

You thought he was smug before. He stepped towards you and his hands reached for you. “Are you sure?” He sounded like he was trying hard to compose himself. To keep himself from pouncing on you.

You nodded, “I’ve never needed anything more in my entire fucking life.” Your voice was barely above a whisper. Dr. Phosphorus grabbed you. His hands grabbed your hips, and he pulled you close to him. You were pressed against the wall, and he stared at you. At least, you were sure that was what he was doing. “Can I kiss you?” You begged.

“Please.” It was his turn to beg. You kissed him, gently on the cheek. You began to pepper kisses across his face and your eyes shut. You moved slightly, getting a better angle, and Dr. Phosphorus moaned. His grip on you tightened and you rubbed your hips into his. He let out a whine.

It was music to your ears.

“I’ve been thinking about you too.” His voice was husky. “Every time you laugh-” He continued, and you stopped kissing him and your head fell back from pleasure, “-and you lean back, I just want to-” He could not control himself anymore. His hips bucked into yours while you kept grinding against him and his teeth scraped your throat.

An airy noise escaped you and your eyes shut tight. You grabbed his coat and held on, knuckles turning colors from your grip. “Do that again. Please, Alex.” You whined. Dr. Phosphorus obliged. His teeth biting at your exposed skin, dragging from your throat to your collarbone.

Chills ran up your spine and you moaned. A little too loudly.

A fist banged on the closet door and neither of you responded. The door swung open. “What the fuck!?” Rick shouted. You ignored him. You felt too good to care.

Dr. Phosphorus kept grinding against you, his grip on you becoming bruising. And then, suddenly, there was nothing. Dr. Phosphorus was ripped from you and thrown out of the closet. You stood there, shocked and horny.

“We’ll continue this later,” Dr. Phosphorus reassured you.

Rick ran a hand through his hair and groaned. “Not in a fucking closet you won’t!” He snapped. “Come on out, kid.” He motioned for you to leave the closet.

“Can I get some fresh air now?” You looked at Rick in a daze.

“As long as you don’t get caught with him outside.” Rick glared at Dr. Phosphorus.

You nodded. You definitely needed to think. And, if Phosphorus was not pulling your leg about continuing later, you could wait for release.

[hoshifighting]

hellooo I just want to say that I like your blog, I really like your writing style🫶🏻🫶🏻 AND

what do you think about Vernon finding the reader's twitter spam account? at first, without saying anything, he follows her from a fake account and learns her fetishes and things like that. then he can't hold back and teasing the reader because of this situation and does all the things she reposts, all she wants and imagines(I honestly can't decide whether they will be friends or lovers and I leave it to you)

thank you very much in advance🩷🩷🩷🩷

when vernon finds out about your freaky tweets

WARNINGS: smut, face slapping, BIG DICK!VERNON, cock riding, mentions of hair pulling, dirty talk, choking.

it starts innocently enough; you’ve got your little spam account, this place where you post anything that comes to mind without a second thought. it’s private, anonymous—you’re safe, or so you think. until one day, you start noticing a new follower, someone with zero posts and a random handle, lurking in the notifications. you brush it off, figuring it’s just some bot. but vernon… well, vernon's been piecing things together. and one night, after reading one of your latest posts—something so NASTY that practically burned his screen—he decides he can't just pretend he hasn’t seen it. so he waits until you’re in the living room next saturday, all comfortable, maybe a little too comfortable. you look up, seeing him standing there with that little frown he gets when he's too stressed to understand something, a raised eyebrow, and his phone in his hand.

“so… ‘i just want him to hold me down and—’” he reads aloud, and you feel everything in you freeze up as he raises an eyebrow at you. “‘then pull my hair back so i can see his face… maybe, idk, slap me around a little?’ really, y/n?”

you scramble, trying to play it cool “vernon—wait, why—where’d you see that?”

“oh, i dunno. i’ve been following this account for a while. figured i’d wait until you posted something really crazy before bringing it up.”

you stammer, face going hot. “i—you didn’t have to read it out loud like that, jesus.”

“oh, come on,” he says, leaning in, crowding your space just enough to make you feel cornered “you can post it, but i can’t say it?”

you swallow hard “i didn’t… i didn’t think you’d see it.”

“didn’t think i’d find out?” he echoes, voice dropping a little. “you know, all this time, i’ve been seeing these little things you like. i didn’t say anything because i thought you’d be embarrassed. but now…” he smirks, leaning back with a sigh, watching you. “now i think maybe i should give you some of what you’re so clearly craving.”

“vernon,” you say, trying to keep your voice steady, but it’s hard when he’s looking at you like he’s imagining every filthy thing you’ve ever posted.

he smirks, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “oh, don’t go all shy on me now. i’ve read what you want. all of it. let’s start with the basics, huh?” his hand trails down, tipping your chin up, thumb brushing over your bottom lip. “you wanna ride me? why didn’t you just say so?”

you feel your heart pounding as he pulls you closer, he's practically purring as he goes, “or that other thing you posted—what was it? something about choking you?” he wraps his hand lightly around your throat, thumb brushing over the sensitive skin as he watches your reaction. “like this?”

you almost cant nod, you're melting, your breath coming short as he tightens his grip just enough to make you feel it “so pretty when you’re horny,” he murmurs, fingers pressing just a little more.

and when you shake your head, he grins, pulling you onto his lap, guiding you to straddle him as his hands settle on your hips “guess i’ve gotta make up for all those little fantasies you’ve been hiding, huh?”

“you sure you can handle it?” he whispers, leaning in, lips brushing against your neck. “’cause i don’t think you really knew what you were asking for when you posted all that.”

but you nod, he tilts your head up, lips brushing over yours, and you feel his hand come up, palm grazing over your cheek before he slaps you—just a little, just enough to make you gasp. he chuckles when you moan, liquefying on his lap, fingers tilting your face back to him.

[...]

he’s already watching you with a azy smirk, eyes rolling sliighty as you sink down onto him, your thighs trembling as you struggle to take all of him in. and god, he’s big. you knew he would be—you’d guessed it a dozen times in all those reckless tweets, wondering just how good it’d feel, but feeling it now, it’s like all that teasing turned on you, stretching you almost too much, and every inch you take feels like a challenge.

“aww, look at you,” he coos, his hands resting on your hips, fingers rubbing little circles into your skin as you try to ease down, taking him deeper, even though it’s making your breath catch, making you whimper and shake. “what happened, baby? i thought you said you could handle it.”

you bite your lip, cheeks burning, and he chuckles, leaning in closer, voice low and teasing. “or maybe you just wanted me to be big so you could talk all that shit on your little account,” he murmurs, running his thumb over your lip. “all those tweets you made, talking about wanting me to be, what—eight, nine inches?” he grins, watching the way you flush, the way your hands grip his shoulders to steady yourself. “think you got what you wished for, hm?”

“shut up,” you manage to whisper, but it’s so breathless, your body clenching around him, and he laughs, hands guiding you down just a bit further, his hips lifting just a little to meet you, that makes you gasp, makes you try to pull back, but he keeps you there, fingers firm on your hips.

“no, no, let’s see you take it,” he whispers, voice rough with that soft teasing. “come on, baby. don’t tell me this is too much. you wanted all of it, right?”

you nod, trying to adjust, but it’s almost too much fr, too thick, too deep, and he watches you with those hooded eyes, savoring every single whimper you make. “it’s okay,” he says softly, almost soothing as he leans up to kiss you, but you can hear that cocky lilt in his tone. “you’re doing so good. even if you can’t take all of it… god, you’re trying, huh?”

and he’s right there, brushing his lips over your cheek, murmuring sweet, filthy encouragements into your ear as you sink down a little more, taking just a bit more of him, even though your body’s practically begging for a break. “that’s it… there you go. so good, baby. i’m impressed,” he purrs, hands trailing up your back. “i didn’t think you’d take even this much.”

every time you pause, every time your breath catches, he’s right there, fingers digging into your hips, guiding you, helping you ride him “guess you really wanted to know..” he murmurs, grinning as he watches you struggle, your head falling back as you finally take just a little more, his hands pulling you down hard against him until you can feel every inch of him.

“there it is… that’s my girl,” he whispers, in asatisfied rasp, his eyes dark as he watches you ride him, just as you’d dreamed about, exactly as you’d hoped—only now it’s even better.

[chrisgetsmewetter]

His first baddie

Pairing: blackfem!influenser x soft!dom hamzah

summary: your finally in canada for your collab with hamzah and martin. but when hamzah picks you up and feelings are confessed one thing leads to another

warnings: pnv, unprotected sex (wrap it b4 u tap it!), eventual smut, just freaky, pet names (baby, mama)

word count: 2.8k

a/n: HURRY DINNERS READY!! mama cooked yall up a feast bcs i starved yall long enough. the smut is lowkey in more hamzahs pov and idk how to feel about it so give me y’all’s opinions. lastly pleaseee give me some requests please im bored out of my mind idec who its about. LOVE YALL😘

here you are four years later with over 12 million subscribers on YouTube when Hamzah dms you on Instagram.

you would be lying if you said that it you weren’t a little salty that Hamzah never contacted you after the freak show tryouts but to be fair you never reached out to him either.

You just assumed that you were both so busy and consumed with the newfound fame, and subscribers.

and when time was right, you guys would cross paths again one day. and today was that day

Hamzahthefantastic

Hey long time no see! i seen that you’ve gotten really big over the last 4 years and me and martin were wondering if you wanted to come on our channel and do a video? it’s totally fine if you don’t want to but if you do feel free to message me.

your heart dropped to your ass. so now hampshire wants to collab after not talking to you for 4 years? yea he didn’t owe you anything, but it still hurts because you thought something could’ve happened there. But you’ve never chased no boy and you weren’t gonna start now. despite you feeling like he didn’t make an effort to talk to you, at least he contacted you now, and maybe something may grow between you two. you click the message confirming that it was the real hamzah and now you know u need to lock tf in

theoginstagrambaddie

hey hamzah, i would love to collab with you guys !! just lmk the details xx

……

2 days later you’re in the toronto airport with a fresh blond lace install. you didn’t even have to pay for your flight. right after you sent the message, hamzah he sent you the digital plane ticket. first class from LA to toronto, impressed wasn’t even the word.

You step out of the airport, the heavy doors sliding open with a quiet whoosh. The air smells different here, crisp and fresh, carrying a hint of salt from the sea. Your heart beats faster, each step your closer to the moment you’ve been dreaming of for years.

The crowd rushes around you, people pushing past each other, their voices blending into a hum. You clutch the handles of your cheetah print suitcases, your fingers tightening as your eyes scan the faces. And then you see him.

Hamzah.

He stands near the railing, hands stuffed into the pockets of his jacket, shifting on his feet like he doesn’t know what to do with himself. His hair is cut into an outgrown blond buzzcut, curling at the ends, his face is sharper, more grown-up than the last time you saw him through a screen. and.. way more muscular and built.

But his smile , that same crooked, awkward smile that no doubt always made you smile.

You freeze, a smile creeping onto your face. It’s like time stops, and suddenly you’re seventeen again, staying up late to watch his streams and videos. Your heart beats painfully, the weight of lost years pressing against your ribs.

He starts walking toward you, slow at first, like he can’t believe you’re really here. Then faster, until he’s right in front of you, close enough that you can see the slight tremble in his hands.

“Hey,” he says, voice soft but steady. His eyes search yours, and you wonder if he feels it too the invisible force pulling you closer.

“Hey,” you breathe out, barely able to speak past the lump in your throat. You want to say so much more, to tell him how you never stopped thinking about him, how your heart used to skip every time his name popped up on your phone.

But before you can, he pulls you into a hug. You melt into him, your face pressing against his shoulder, the scent of his cologne wrapping around you like a memory you never wanted to forget. His arms tighten, holding you like he’s afraid you might disappear.

“it’s so nice to finally meet you,” he whispers, voice breaking slightly.

You close your eyes, your heart pounding so loudly you’re sure he can hear it.

“it’s amazing meeting you too” you say, melting into the hug

….

You walk out of the airport, dragging your suitcase behind you, and before you can even think about how heavy it feels, Hamzah rushes over

“Let me get that,” he says, grabbing your luggage. He lifts it like it weighs nothing, and you catch yourself staring at his biceps flexing through his sweater

He throws the suitcase into the trunk and wipes imaginary sweat from his forehead. “I’m basically a bodybuilder now,” he says, flexing his arm, which shows lowkey a lot of muscle. “I should start charging for this.”

….

The car ride is quiet at first, the kind of quiet that makes your heart race. The city blurs past the windows, and every few seconds, Hamzah taps the steering wheel like he’s trying to figure out what to say.

“So,” he finally starts, glancing at you with a crooked grin, “how is the celebrity life treating you?” you visibly cringe at the word ‘celebrity’

“well you know it has its ups and downs, but i love making money for being myself. and also im definitely not a celebrity”

hamzah scrunches his face up “boi water you talking about you literally walked on the new york fashion week runway, was on the front cover of vogue, and went to the met gala what do you mean you aren’t a celebrity”

you sit there trying to come up with a quick comeback but you can’t..

“exactly, clock that” hamzah sticks his tongue out just a little bit

You roll your eyes, but you’re smiling, and your stomach flips every time he looks at you. The car smells like vanilla and maybe him, it makes your head spin.

He clears his throat “Anyway, we’re going to Martin’s for the collab. He’s already set up the lights and stuff. I told him not to make us look too ugly on camera, but, you know, he cant do nothin right”

You let out a loud laugh, and he grins, proud of himself. “i’m deadass so excited to meet martin, that’s my twin”

hamzah scrunches his face up at you again. at this point he’s acting sassier than chase.. “how is he your twin and you never even met him boi”

“i think you’re just hating.. lemme get the aux” you say going to apple music and connecting it to the car

“if your music taste is bad im taking your ass back to the airport” hamzah says as he turns the volume up, and as soon as he does Lipgloss by Charlie and Cupkkake starts bumping and yall get hype

after an hour of yall singing songs and catching up, you pull up to Martin’s house, and when Hamzah turns off the engine martin calls him. comes to find out him and mandy left to get lunch,

“shit i’m so sorry, if i would’ve known martin wasn’t here i would’ve taken you to your hotel”

“oh damn, i actually didnt even book a hotel, i meant to text you and ask you which one i should book, bcs i’ve never been here before”

“no worries i have the perfect one, ill pay for it.” hamzah said casually while typing on his phone

“you don’t have to do that hamzah you already paid for my flight here, i don’t like people spending a lot of money on me”

he puts his hand up “i’m already paying for it. you deserve to enjoy canada while you’re here. it’s the least i can do since i was stupid and didn’t contact you for four years”

Your heart starts pounding, and all you can do is look at anywhere but him and hope he doesn’t hear how loud your heart is beating.

“it didnt bother me,” you obviously lied. “we both just got caught up in fame, dont stress yourself out about it” you said while you fidgeted with you nails

“no but that’s the thing, it has been stressing me out. i guess i never reached out because i thought that you were so out of my league, and it would be weird if i confessed liking you since we only met online, and i knew nothing about you” hamzah confessed lowly

you didn’t know how to respond, so you acted out of impulse and kissed him

hamzah is caught off guard by the sudden kiss, but he quickly responds, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you closer.

"wait-" he starts to say, but cuts himself off as he deepens the kiss. He pulls back after a moment, breathing heavily. “we just met, i don’t wanna make you feel uncomfortable” you shake your head “you aren’t hamzah i want this”

"Fuck it, that’s all i needed to hear. I've wanted to do that for so long." he interrupts himself, kissing you again, this time with more passion. He moves his hand to your cheek, cradling it gently as he continues to kiss you.

"God, I've dreamed about this," he murmurs against your lips, breaking the kiss for a moment. "You're so damn beautiful." he says, his voice filled with emotion.

A low, strangled groan escaped Hamzah's throat as you climbed into his lap, straddling him in the driver's seat. He could hardly believe this was real, that you wanted him as much as he wanted you. His hands flew to your hips, gripping them tightly as he pulled you unimaginably closer to him

"Shit" he grunted, feeling your soft ass mold against him. He was already getting hard, his cock twitching and swelling in his jeans as you sat on top of him. "You can't just... fuck..." He panted softly, his eyes dark and intense as they roamed over your face.

One hand slid up your side to cup the swell of your breast through your top, giving it a gentle squeeze. He could feel how your nipple stiffened under his palm, and it made him groan again.

"Tell me you want this too,", his voice low and heavy with need. "Tell me I'm not imagining this." Because damn, he needed to hear you say it. He needed confirmation that you felt the same way. “hamzah, i need you” you whimper as you slide off your top

hamzah's eyes widen as you remove your shirt, revealing your perfect frame and cleavage. "shit" he breathes, his hands immediately going to your waist.

"You're perfect." he says, burying his face in your chest, inhaling your scent. He kisses and nuzzles your chest before lifting his head up to look at you.

"can i take this off" he begs, his voice husky with desire. “yes please” now you wouldn’t call yourself “easy” but in this case.. it’s hamzah

He reaches behind you and unclasps your bra, pulling it off and tossing it aside. "oh god" he mutters, taking in the sight of your bare, pierced boobs. "So fucking beautiful."

Without hesitation, he leaned down and wrapped his lips around the stiff peak of your nipple, sucking and swirling his tongue around the sensitive bud.

“Fuck, baby," you groaned as he licked around your nipple, his other hand gripping your ass tightly, pulling you harder against his straining boner. He was rock hard now, his cock throbbing with the need to be inside you.

But he tried to focus on worshipping your tits, determined to show you how much he adored your sexy body.

He switched to your other breast, giving it the same treatment. Sucking, licking, and lightly biting the sensitive skin as he groped and caressed every inch of your skin.

"Your tits are fucking perfect," he murmured, his voice muffled and heavy with lust. you’re a moaning mess, you never thought in a million years you would let someone do this when you “just met”

but the years of pent up attraction, and a bit of anger led you to not giving a fuck anymore. you want hamzah, and he wants you “hamzah please i need it”

Hamzah's heart raced as he heard the desperate plea in your voice, feeling you tremble with need in his lap. He knew exactly how you felt and he was just as desperate, just as turned on. The way youre grinding on his hard cock was driving him insane with lust.

"Fuck, you're killing me baby," he groaned, finally pulling his mouth away from your perfect tits reluctantly. He gazed up at you with eyes that burn with desire, his chest heaving. "Tell me what you need, baby. Tell me how to make you feel good."

His hands slid down to the hem of your short skirt, slipping underneath to grip the soft cheeks of your ass. He squeezed and slapped the it, pulling you harder against him as he rocked his hips up to meet yours.

"Is this what you need, baby? You want me to fuck you right here in the car?" he growled, his voice low and rough with lust. "I'll give you whatever you want. Just say the word."

“hamzah.. please fuck me” you plea in desperation

that’s all he needed to hear because In one swift, almost violent motion, he slid down his sweats, freeing his massive, throbbing cock. It sprang out, slapping against his abs, leaving a smear of precum on his skin.

“can i?” he begged, tugging on the side of your thong, and as soon as you nodded he yanked your panties to the side "Fuck, baby, you want this big cock inside this tight little pussy?" he snarled, gripping your hips tightly as he positioned you over his straining erection.

“are you sure you’re ready?” hamzah checks despite you saying yes the other times, and again you immediately nod your head yes

as soon as you give him permission he burys himself to the inside of your tight, velvety walls. A strangled moan tore from his throat as your slick heat engulfed him, squeezing his cock like a vice.

your eyes instantly roll to the back of your head in pleasure "Ohhh fuck, baby" he cried out, his head falling back against the headrest as he savored the feeling of finally being inside of you. "You're so fucking tight, baby. Shit, you feel amazing..."

He started to move, thrusting up into you roughly, digging into you over and over, his hands gripping your hips hard enough to leave bruises. The pornographic sound of skin slapping against skin filled the car as he fucked you, chased by your cries of pleasure.

"Yes, just like that Hamzah! Don't stop," you whimpered, your nails digging into his shoulders as you held on for dear life. your hips met his brutal thrusts eagerly, taking him as deep as he could go.

"Shit, your pussy is gripping me so fucking tight," he grunted, sweat beading on his brows from the speed he was going . "I'm not gonna last long if you keep squeezing me like this."

He slid a hand down between your connected bodies to rub at your clit, wanting to feel you come undone on his cock. "Come on baby, cum for me. I wanna feel this pussy cum on my dick" he demanded, his voice a low, lust-filled growl.

The car shook with the force of his thrusts, the windows fogging up from the heat of your love making. “shit h-hamzah i’m gonna cum”

"shit, yea baby, cum for me, I want to feel this pussy clench around my dick” he groaned, slamming up into you harder and faster, driven by your approaching orgasm.

one hand was rubbing furiously at your swollen clit, feeling it throb and pulse under his touch. and the other makes its way to your throat. He could tell you was right on the edge, your velvety walls starting to and tighten around his throbbing dick.

"That's it, mama. Let go for me," he encouraged you softly, his voice strained and heavy with his own building orgasm. his hand slightly tightened around your neck causing your orgasm to crash down, which made your mouth gape open and let out a long moan

hearing, and feeling your orgasm caused his cock to pulse and twitch inside you as his own climax approached rapidly. and with a long pornographic whimper Hamzah thrusts up one final time, his thick cock pulsing and throbbing as it unloaded rope after rope of his hot, sticky cum deep inside your fluttering pussy.

"shit, shit, shit" he shook, his body shuddering and jerking uncontrollably as the most intense orgasm of his life crashed through him.

As the waves of his climax began to subside, Hamzah slumped back against the driver's seat, panting harshly. He pulled you down for a sloppy, desperate kiss, all tongues and teeth and passion. "Holy shit," he finally gasped out, cupping your face in his hands. "That was... fuck. That was incredible."

He searched your eyes, searching to find any regret. "You okay? im sorry if went too hard” you shook your head instantly “no hamzah, that was amazing”

hamzah slowly lifted you off of his lap and gently sat you on the passenger seat and scurried to get some napkins. you open the ceiling mirror and see that you mostly still look good.

“i don’t want this to make things weird, i actually want us to be something more” hamzah looks at you deeply, meaning every word he said while wiping your thighs. you smile sweetly at him “i want that too hamzah”

“what do you want to eat?” he says while starting the car up again.

[viasdiary]

actual freaky req😓 i cant stop thinking ab luigi being a camp counselor. i was wondering if u can make a smutty long fic ab u being a counselor too or smn on the camp wtv and having a crush on him and he has to like walk u to ur cabin one night and it gets freaky and u guys like gotta be quiet.?!? idk i feel like i need it #ovulation😭

i lowkey freestyled so this is hardly porn with plot, it's just like pure smut 😭 this request was great though i loved writing it

☆ worth the wait (luigi mangione x reader)

☆ warnings: rough sex, overstim, teasing

☆ word count: 2.9k

you weren’t sure when it had started. maybe it was when he first smiled at you during the camp orientation, that wide grin that somehow made you feel like the only person in the room. or maybe it was the way his eyes would occasionally flicker toward you, like he couldn’t quite help himself. his attention always seemed just a little more intense, a little more personal than what you had grown used to.

he was beautiful. you’d felt that way since the first time you’d laid eyes on him. his soft dark curls, the two freckles delicately placed on each side of his perfect smile, his strong nose bridge, his sharp jawline - you’d been studying every single detail about him this past summer, and sometimes if you looked close enough, you’d see him studying you too.

he wasn’t overt about it — luigi wasn’t the type to make his interest obvious. but you saw right through him. you felt the way his gaze lingered a second longer than necessary when your paths crossed. little things, like the way his eyes moved slowly over your face before dropping lower, tracking the way your shirt clung to your body, damp from the heat.

it was torturous, seeing him, being near him, but never having him. you’d stare at his strong arms, his broad shoulders, wondering what holding him would feel like. your attraction bordered obsession, and as the camp came to an end, you wondered if you’d ever have him — or even be able to tell him how you felt.

you glance over at him, standing near the door of the main cabin, hands in his pockets, chatting with a couple of other campers. he has that same relaxed look on his face.

"hey, lu" you say when you reach him, barely loud enough to be heard over the clatter of voices in the background.

he turns, that easy smile spreading across his face. 

"hey," he replies, voice low. "what’s up?"

you shrug, trying to stop the smile that’s tugging at the corners of your lips. 

"nothing. just thought i should let you know i’m about to turn in for the night."

his brow furrows for a moment, like he’s weighing your words. his eyes flicker over your face, then back to the group of campers, but he doesn’t look away. something shifts between you, a quiet understanding. he pushes off from the doorframe, moving closer.

"it’s kinda early," he says, his voice dropping lower. "you sure?" he asks.

you meet his eyes, the tension hanging heavy between you. 

"yeah, but i… i could use a little company before i do." you hint, a slight chuckle escaping your mouth.

his smile widens just a little, eyes darkening as he looks you over.

"company, huh?" his gaze flickers briefly down to the ground and then back up to meet your eyes.  "and what kind of company do you have in mind?"

you can’t help the small shiver that runs down your spine. you give him another look—a silent invitation. you take a slow step toward him, until you’re standing just a little too close, so close you can feel the heat of his body, smell the faint trace of his cologne. your heart beats faster, and when you glance up at him, you can see the way his breath catches. he doesn’t move away.

“i think you know,” you say softly. "just... come with me." the words come out quieter this time. you can feel your pulse racing, but you don’t back down. not now.

he’s quiet for a moment, studying your face like he’s trying to make sure this isn’t just some game. he’s so close now, the tension between you both so thick you can barely breathe. then, finally, he nods, his lips curving into something far more knowing.

"well, alright," he says grinning. "lead the way."

you don’t waste another second. you turn, walking quickly toward the small cabin where you’ve been staying, his footsteps following closely behind you.

when you reach the door, you pause, hand on the knob. you push the door open, stepping over the threshold, and taking a seat on the bed. luigi trails behind you, closing the door and taking a seat next to you. you turn to face him, your chest tight with anticipation. his brown eyes are locked on yours, following every movement you make, and for a moment, neither of you says a word.

"so," you start, your voice trembling a little as you try to make yourself steady. "i’ve been thinking about this for a while." 

he seems so amused at how flustered you are. he moves a bit closer, his hand reaching for your arm. 

"yeah?" his lips brush lightly against your ear as he speaks, sending a shiver down your spine. "and what exactly have you been thinkin’ about?"

you can’t hold it in anymore. you need him—need the weight of his body, the feel of him close to you. you lean forward into his space, your body practically magnetized to his. his chest is warm under your palm, his body so solid, so real. your breath catches in your throat as you look at him.

“i’ve wanted this… you… for so long.” you whisper the words, and they hang in the air as you look at him.

A slight grin spreads across luigi’s face, his gaze softening as he leans in closer. 

"should've told me," he murmurs, his breath hot against your skin. "i've been wanting you too. been thinking about it every single day."

"show me," you breathe, barely audible.

that's all it takes. luigi closes the distance between you, his lips crashing against yours with an intensity that takes your breath away. his hand moves to the back of your neck, pulling you closer as he deepens the kiss. you respond eagerly, your fingers tangling in his soft curls, your body pressing against his. 

the kiss is everything you've imagined and more - passionate, desperate, filled with months of pent-up longing.

Luigi's hands roam your body. he breaks the kiss, his lips moving to your neck as he gently pushes you back onto the bed. you gasp as he finds a sensitive spot, your fingers digging into his shoulders.

"god, you're so cute," he murmurs against your skin, his voice husky with desire. "i've wanted to do this for so long."

you pull him back up for another searing kiss, reveling in the weight of his body on top of yours. your hands slip under his shirt, exploring the taut muscles of his back. luigi groans into your mouth, grinding his hips against yours.

“fuck, we could’ve been doing this all summer.” he says, breaking the kiss.

you can't help but smile against his lips at that thought. "well," you whisper, pulling back just enough to meet his eyes, "we'll just have to make up for lost time."

he chuckles softly as he captures your lips once more. his hands slide down your sides, gripping your hips and pulling you flush against him. you gasp at the contact, feeling him pressing against you.

"this okay?" he murmurs, his lips trailing along your jawline.

"more than okay," you breathe , arching into his touch. "please, luigi. i need you."

he doesn't need to be told twice. with deft fingers, he begins unbuttoning your shirt, his lips following the path of newly exposed skin. you shiver under his ministrations, your own hands fumbling with the hem of his, lifting it and running your hands across his body, feeling his abs and the broad expanse of his chest.

“like what you see?” he asks, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.

“shut up,” you say, giggling.

you can't stop the quiet moan that escapes your lips as his bare skin presses against yours. he kisses you again, his hands making quick work of your jeans. your hands slide down his chest, pausing briefly at the waistband of his shorts, before slipping them down and taking his thick cock in your hand. he groans as you stroke him, his hips rocking into your hand.

"you're driving me fuckin’ crazy," he murmurs, nipping at your bottom lip.

"that's the point," you reply, a breathless laugh escaping you.

“you’re so good at this,”

“just for you, lu” you say, chuckling softly

"you look so fuckin' beautiful right now" he says, his voice low and husky.

he helps you out of your pants, his hands tracing the curve of your hips, the dip of your waist, the swell of your breasts. your body melts under his touch, heat pooling between your thighs. you've never wanted anyone more than this. 

he presses his fingers into the sensitive flesh of your inner thighs, spreading them apart as his lips move down to your collarbone.

your breath catches as his fingers tease the edge of your panties, slipping underneath and brushing against your clit. he chuckles against your skin as he feels how wet you are.

"mmm, someone's eager," he says, his voice laced with amusement.

you bite back a whimper as he rubs slow circles against your clit his other hand cups your breast, his thumb teasing the peak of your nipple. you arch into his touch, desperate for more.

“looks like you’re just as worked up as i am,” you reply, grinning.

“you’re so tight around my fingers,” he says softly

"luigi, please," you moan, your hands gripping his shoulders. "i need you."

"patience, sweetheart." he says, moving down your body and placing his face between your thighs.

you can't help but groan in anticipation. he's so close, his breath hot against your skin. you can't wait any longer. you wrap your legs around his head, pulling him closer.

he doesn't hesitate. his tongue traces the length of your slit, circling your clit before plunging into you. you gasp as he licks and sucks at you, pleasure washing over your body. you writhe under his touch, his fingers moving just right as he brings you closer and closer to the edge.

"how's that feel?" he asks, pulling away slightly to look up at you.

"so fuckin' good," you groan, your fingers threading through his hair. "don't stop."

he continues, his tongue moving faster and harder, bringing you closer and closer to release. your thighs clench around his head, your hands grasping at his shoulders as the pressure builds. you can't hold on any longer. you come undone, your body shuddering with pleasure.

he holds you close, murmuring praise and reassurance as you come down from your high.

"you did so good for me," he says, kissing his way back up your body.

you lean in for a kiss, tasting yourself on his lips. you reach for his cock again, stroking him slowly. he groans into your mouth, his hips rocking against your hand.

"fuck, sweetheart," he mutters, his hands gripping your waist.

"let me return the favor," you whisper, rolling him onto his back.

you run your hands along his bare thighs before taking him in your mouth, licking and sucking his length. he groans, his hands fisting in the sheets. you can't get enough of him, his taste, the way he feels against your tongue. you want to give him everything he's given you, bring him the same pleasure he's brought you.

"pretty girl," he murmurs, his eyes heavy-lidded with lust.

you continue working his length, taking him deeper, until he hits the back of your throat. he moans, his hands moving to your hair.

"jesus, you're amazing," he groans, his hips bucking slightly. "just like that."

you move faster, feeling his control start to slip. his grip tightens on your hair, his hips thrusting harder. you can tell he's close, and you double down, working him with your mouth and hand until he's shuddering, spilling into your mouth.

you swallow, looking up at him through your lashes. he's panting, his eyes dark as he gazes down at you.

"y'know how many times i've thought about you goin' down on me like that?” he asks, breathlessly chuckling.

you smile, licking your lips. "as many times as i've thought about it, probably."

he pulls you back up to his mouth, kissing you deeply. you lose yourself in the feeling of his lips, his tongue, the way his hands roam your body. he rolls you over, his weight pressing you into the mattress. you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer, desperate for more.

his cock hardens against you, pressing against your inner thigh. you gasp, breaking the kiss

"you have no idea how much i've fuckin' wanted this" you say softly.

he kisses down your neck, his lips trailing across your collarbone. his hand slides between your legs, his fingers brushing against your dripping entrance.

“oh, i think i’ve got a pretty good idea,” he teases, his eyes fixed on the mess you’re making on his fingers.

"you’re so wet for me," he whispers, pushing a finger into you.

"i've been thinking about this since the moment i met you," you moan, arching against him.

"tell me how much you've wanted me," he says, adding another finger.

"so much, luigi," you gasp, his fingers moving faster.

"you've got me now." he says, his thumb rubbing slow circles against your clit.

the pleasure builds quickly, the sensation of his fingers inside you coupled with the friction of his thumb is enough to send you over the edge. you finish with a soft moan, your body trembling as he works you through it.

he's relentless, his fingers continuing their ministrations even as you come down from your orgasm. he presses his lips to yours, his tongue parting your lips, his breath hot on your skin.

"i wanna feel you," you moan, desperate for more.

"tell me how bad."

"bad," you pant, gripping his arm.

"hm? how bad, sweetheart?" he teases, a grin spreading across his face.

"so fucking bad," you groan, feeling him push into you.

he fills you completely, stretching you in the most delicious way. you cry out, the feeling almost too much to bear. he starts to move, slowly at first, then faster, his hips snapping against yours. you match his pace, your nails digging into his skin as he fucks you hard.

"that's it, baby, just like that," he groans, his hands gripping your hips.

your thighs shake as he pounds into you, pleasure building with every thrust. you cling to him, your fingers tangling in his curls, holding him close. he buries his face in your neck, his breath hot on your skin.

“you’re being so rough,” you whine.

“i know, sweetheart, i know” he coos

“you fuckin’ wanted this though, you gotta take it,” he says, smiling against your skin

“it’s too much,” you gasp.

“i’m trying my best to be gentle, baby,” he says, chuckling softly.

his pace is relentless as his hips slam against yours, your grip on his shoulders driving him insane as he fucks deep into you.

“i can’t take it, lu” you cry.

“you asked for this. shut the fuck up and take it,” he grunts. clearly he’s abandoned any intentions of being gentle with you.

"you're so fuckin’ tight around me, sweetheart" he whispers softly, grabbing your hand to hold it, interlocking his fingers with yours.

"you feel even better than i'd imagined" he says, his voice rough and low. you moan in response, unable to form words as he drives you closer and closer to the edge.

"that's it," he groans, his hips bucking into yours. "cum for me."

you don't last long after that. you cry out, the sound muffled by his shoulder as you shudder, your orgasm hitting hard and fast. luigi's not far behind, his thrusts becoming erratic before he collapses on top of you.

he presses his forehead against yours, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

you smile, tracing patterns on his back as he catches his breath. he looks down at you, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"was that worth the wait?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

you laugh, leaning up for a kiss. 

"we've still got all night, sweetheart," he murmurs, kissing you deeply.

[moriitis]

How freaky do you think Toby is?

Like, do you think he is into public sex or getting caught being intimate with his partner? Or does he enjoy being intimate with his partner alone?

-🫐🔮 Anon

How freaky is Toby?

Content/Warnings; sex, mentions of public sex, mentions of porn, masturbation, being sexually frustrated, mentions of murder.

Toby 100% at first is a virgin. Like, this man would not have gotten any action before he murdered his father and it's not like he got much action after. (I know him and Clockwork did stuff together and he probably lost his virginity to her.) But even after that, he's still insecure and awkward as fuck! I wouldn't be surprised if a part of him just assumed every woman was the same and there was just some kind of magic button he could flip that would make them orgasm. I don't really think he knows much about himself either? Like, I don't think he's ever sat down and really considered what turns him on or what makes him horny? Like, his dick will just get hard and he'll rub one out to deal with the issue if needed.

And fuck the whole debate of, 'is Toby an ass or titties kind of guy?!' because we all damn well know that this man is both. I don't wanna say this man is horny all the time - but in the end of a day, he's a dude and he's gonna get a lot of random boners that make no fucking sense. And no, he's not gonna suddenly get turned on or aroused if a woman is nice toward him, just more things like if he were to accidentally brush a hand against your waist or you put a hand on his knee. I feel like physical touch is more boner inducing than 'omg she smiled at me, omg shoulders, etc.' LIke, he's down bad but not down, down bad. He's just awkward and despite the little experience he has, he's sailing a ship blind essentially.

Lowkey feel like he has a lot of unrealistic expectations when it comes to sex too. I don't wanna say he lives off porn, but I see him using Pornhub or Twitter occasionally to help him jack off (even his imagination at times when needed but that's hard because he usually ends up thinking of weird shit that turns him off.)

Toby got energy too, depending on the situation and stuff. He will cum within seconds, I'm gonna put that out there but he can continue going until you're satisfied.

Onto the question though, is Toby a freak? I think his freak level will depend on his partner. I'll be honest at times Toby can be a little sex obsessed, he mostly uses pleasure in an attempt to feel something and forget about his problems (but post nut clarity will hit him HARD.) I feel like his sex drive will try to match his partners. You don't want to have sex for months on end? He's fine with that, sure he'll try to initiate something or attempt to turn you on but if you brush him off or say no, he won't persist. He's not one of those asshole guys where sex is expected, if you're not up for it - that's fine! But he'll jack off later to help relieve himself if he's really sexually frustrated. (And yes, since you guys started dating he dropped Pornhub.) Same thing for the other way round, if you wanna have sex everyday, shit, he'll try and keep up!

On the topic of public sex, I'm gonna say no. I think the idea interests him enough but he's not going to pull anything risky. Slender trusts him with going out ito civilisation, he's a wanted criminal and the last thing he wants to get caught for is fucking public indecency. Not only that, but if Slender did find out? If either of you got caught? If he got caught and you got away? I don't know, I don't think he could live with himself and nor does he trust Slender enough to not punish you too. Now, Toby is a notorious rulebreaker though, I think between the other three, Kate, Tim and Brian, Toby is the one that breaks the rules the most. But that would explain why is memory is so fucked up. Plus, he's someone's man now, idk the idea of being in a relationship matures him a little.

If you tried to initiate something in public, he'd probably maybe sternly tell you off a little.

"No, no, n-nnow isn't the time. Let's do this l-la-later, yeah? Be good for me, huh?"

"I'll make you feel good, j-just me n you. Come one."

Like sure he'll get hard at the idea of you being so sexual and the risk of it all, but Toby isn't that fucking stupid. I think the worst part for him would be how tempting it would be, so he'd struggle internally for awhile.

But he'd make it up for when you guys are alone. Considering how awkward he is, he would prefer to do these kinds of things alone. Now, would that stop him from fucking the shit out of you in his car? No! But as long as you're parked up somewhere dark, he don't care. It's not like he would be ashamed for fucking somebody as perfect as you, in fact, it's normal! God damn, what could be worse, public sex or murder?

And yes, he will fuck you with the lights off. He's just insecure, maybe at some point he'll find some confidence to allow light, but as long as he can feel you and hear you - he's satisfied. Although he does love when you ride him when he's sat in the drivers seat of his truck, he loves seeing your facial expressions so close, your hot breath on his lips.

[insomniadreamzz]

Okay, you asked for freaky shit.

What about Jinx being totally in love and obsessed with fem. Reader secretly loves Jinx as well, but is dating Vi and feels a commitment to her.

Maybe one day Jinx sees Vi and fem kissing and she can’t take it anymore and loses her shit!

She goes back to her hideout and invents a serum that will make fem love her!

Ends with some rough smut 🤭

Idk if this is too dark and freaky 😅 but..…. ummm…… yeah bye

Oop I love dark and freaky stuff so here we go 👀

Jinx xFem!Reader plus little VixFem!Reader for the plot

Mentions of angst, smut, kidnapping, forced love, rough smut, blood, knife play

———

You are mine and only mine

You knew Vi and her sister Jinx for a while now. It’s hard not to since they were pretty popular in Zaun. Everyone knew them but not only in positive ways. Vi gets into fights with others, especially in the Last Drop, her temper was thin and if someone was talking shit about the ones she loved she just had to show them a lesson. Or she just gets provoked by Sevika which was enough to cause a fight with those two. Jinx on the other hand was known for her chaos. Blowing up stuff especially in Piltover and stealing stuff. When Jinx wanted something she will get it and she won’t hesitate at all, using everything she could to achieve her goal.

Even though they were sisters, they always mocked each other and didn’t really have a healthy sister relationship caused by certain events in the past.

You and Vi had a relationship going on but you couldn’t ignore the fact that Jinx began to like you as well. Whenever Vi wasn’t with you, Jinx tried to talk to you and gave you obvious signs that she had a crush on you. Besides being very chaotic and deadly dangerous Jinx was beautiful, her smile always did something to you, you hated it but you couldn’t control what you felt whenever she smiled at you. Slowly you started having a crush on Jinx as well but you weren’t the type of person to cheat. Especially not because you alresdy were engaged to Vi.

„Hey Toots!“ Jinx caught you in the Last Drop hanging out without Vi and of course she took the chance to talk to you. She was always like the wind, appearing out of nowhere as she suddenly sat beside you. The usual happy smile on her face which made your heart do a flip but you ignored your feelings at this point. „Oh hey Jinx.“ You answered, turning on your seat. „What ya doin here? Aren’t you supposed to be with Vi?“ She asked and you just nod your head in response. „Yes she will join me soon.“ You answered her and her pink eyes traveled down to your finger, seeing a ring on it which made her bite her own lower lip, you noticing she didn’t like it at all, knowing what it meant. „Is that from Vi?“ She asked with a more lower tone, her usual quirky voice changing abruptly. Your gaze went down to look at the ring, forcing a smile on your face. „Yes. Me and Vi are engaged.“ You said and Jinx‘s facial expression dropped, making you worry she would flip but she stayed calm which surprised you as she forced a grin on her face but she looked more creepy than anything else. „O-Oh? I didn’t know. Congrats.“ Her voice being a little shaky, she wanted to scream. You on the other hand didn’t know what to answer and luckily Vi appeared, finally joining you as she hugged you from behind. „Hey my beautiful girl“ She said and you turned to your fiancé, Vi leaning down to press a kiss on your lips, right in front of Jinx.

The blue haired woman bit the inside of her cheek hard, tasting her own blood. She was boiling inside, standing up from her seat. „I will give you more privacy. Have fun.“ She spat out her words disgustedly, leaving the last drop with rage inside of her, leaving you and Vi alone.

Jinx paced around in her hideout, mumbling various things to herself, her usual insane behavior. „They are engaged…she is mine though…Vi must have manipulated her…there is no way she doesn’t love me back.“

‚You aren’t good enough for her‘ She heard the voice in her head and that made her snap. „SHUT UP!“ She screamed as she threw a few of her tools off her table in rage, a little insane chuckle escaping her lips. „Oh no…no she is mine. MINE!“ She yelled once again, her gaze moving to a piece of paper on her table which she wrote down a plan to get you to love her. A plan for inventing a serum which was like a love potion. She wanted to do this a long time ago but she hesitated…long enough. Now it’s not too late, you are only engaged, she can still do something about it. Her fingers digging on the table as she looked down at the piece of paper, a few tear drops falling on it, her body shaking of rage. „Sorry sis…but you are engaged with my girl…I won’t let you marry her.“ She talked to herself before sitting down on her chair and started to work on her plan.

You were walking along the streets of Zaun alone, Vi was on a mission up in Piltover so you got bored and just wanted to take a walk which will turn out to be a huge mistake. Generally Zaun wasn’t the most save place to walk around, all those shimmer addicts hanging out in the dark corners of the streets, begging to get some of it. You were used to it though, not paying attention to their pleas. Suddenly something hard hit your head, making you whine in pain and made you black out in seconds as you fell to the ground.

The pain in your head got worse, your vision blurry as you opened your eyes to find yourself tied up on a chair, as your vision got a little more clear you noticed your surroundings being not familiar to you but the graffities drawn everywhere where familiar to you. Tools everywhere, creepy self made dolls of people you didn’t recognize hanging around and a lot of weapons. Some finished some halfway finished. You took in a familiar scent as you heard footsteps getting closer to you from behind and soon the person stood in front of you, looking down at you with a dark smile. „Look who is awake.“ Jinx said as she then placed herself on your lap.

„J-Jinx?? Why did you do this??“ You asked and she just chuckled as she wiped the blood coming from the wound of your forehead. „Because I love you. Isn’t that obvious?“ She cooed and you furrowed your eyebrows, not really understanding her. „You kidnap me because you love me? That’s a weird way of showing love don’t you think?“ You couldn’t believe she really did that, you knew she was crazy but that still surprised you. „I just saved you from doing the biggest mistake of your life. Marrying the wrong person.“

Your eyes widened in shock, she really went this far because of jealousy? „I love Vi!“ You said, making Jinx roll her eyes in response. „Uh huh…sure you do. And why did you always look at me with that intense gaze when she isn’t around? Come on don’t lie to yourself toots, you love me.“ She said and you knew she wasn’t wrong. You had a crush on Jinx as well but you were promised to someone else and breaking Vi‘s heart is not what you wanted to do. Stupid of you to marry her even though you didn’t love her to only not break her heart.

„So…are you still going to lie directly into my face? Or will you finally tell me about your true feelings?? Because I really don’t want to hurt you baby.“ She tried to give you a last chance but you just couldn’t. You promised Vi to be hers and forever hers so you refused to say anything, moving your face away when Jinx tried to kiss you, making her groan in frustration. „Ugh…you really are hard to convince aren’t you? Well then let’s go the painful path.“

Jinx didn’t hesitate as she rammed a needle into your neck, making you yelp at the sudden pain, you could feel she injected something into you but since your hands were tied behind your back you couldn’t push her off no matter how much you squirmed. Your body started to feel hot as you panted, feeling your limbs getting numb and slowly losing your vision again, Jinx holding you close as she whispered softly to you. „Shh…it’s gonna be alright. I know it hurts but the pain will go away and we will be together forever…you are mine and I won’t let you go ever…“

Your dizziness fading, eyes opening as you looked into Jinx’s eyes and when you looked at her beautiful face you felt so in love, more like you ever loved someone before. The memories of you and Vi together fading. She caressed your face with her cold fingers, admiring the look on your face, looking into your with love filled eyes, showing she succeeded. „You belong to me…“ She mumbled and you smiled, her words suddenly meaning so much to you. „Of course I am..“ You answered and that made her realize she really succeeded this time with her invention, looking like she was about to cry as she crashed her lips against yours, finally kissing you, feeling your warm lips on hers. She hummed softly into the kiss. „Mhh…this is all I ever wanted…“ She cooed before connecting your lips again. You kissed each other passionately, your tongues fighting with dominance as you both felt aroused, soft moaning escaping both of your lips into the kiss.

With a swift movement Jinx cut the rope with a knife which held your hands tied together. Once your hands were free they traveled up and down her body, sending shivers down the blue haired girls body, making her bite her lower lip before she looked at you with a smirk, the tip of her knive pointing against your throat. „I will make you never forget this…and never forget who you belong to.“ She said before dragging you to her couch, throwing down all of things on it which would only disturb you so you have enough space. As soon as you laid on your back she removed all of your clothes, looking at your exposed body like a predator would look at it’s prey. „What you waiting for love? Make me never forget this.“ You said, really wanting this and you calling her love made Jinx‘s heart skip a beat. She wanted this for so long, hearing you call her names, touching your body, hearing you moan.

„Impatient aren’t we?“ She chuckled before leaning down to place kisses on your neck, making you gasp at how rough they were, feeling her teeth bite at your skin, leaving marks everywhere around your neck and chest. But there was still something that Junx didn’t like on you, the ring. When she leaned up once again to look at your weak expression, seeing how your chest already rose up and down in excitement she took your hand in hers, removing the ring from your finger and throwing it across the room. „Now we can continue.“ She mentioned before running the blade of her knife gently down along your stomach, seeing your body tensing up before she stopped the blade right above your pussy.

„Tell me you love me.“ She demanded as she poked the tip of her knife into your flesh, threatening you but you didn’t have anything to worry about since you obeyed. She would probaby hurt you with the knife if you refused but you were drunk in love with her. „I love you, only you.“ You answered and she finally knew this is real, tossing the knife away before she went down on your body, getting her head between your thighs as she bit down on the soft flesh of your inner thighs, maybe a bit too harsh since she made it bleed, making you whimper at the playful pleasure, her tongue licking over the little wound, tasting your blood but there was something more she craved to taste for eternity. Her tongue gently licking along your wet slit, the moment her tongue reached for your clit you moaned softly. She was focused on fucking you with her mouth as she licked you harder like she was starving for it before kissing and sucking your clit, tongue slipping inside of you, making you moan louder as you threw your head back, squirming under her which made Jinx pull back, her needy gaze driving you crazy. „Just wait for a little more baby, I want us to come together.“ She mentioned before sitting up, taking off her clothes now, exposing herself now to you. You never saw someone this beautiful, she was just a goddess in your eyes, wanting to touch her so bad. „You are gorgeous my love…“ You whispered loud enough for her to her, a little blush appearing on her face but she never lost her dominance. „My love…that sounds beautiful…that’s what I wanted“ She talked to herself but you didn’t mind it, letting her continue as she got on top of you, slowly grinding her wetness against yours, making both of you whine softly at the good feeling. Jinx pulled you up to her, kissing you as both of you were grinding against each other, filling the room up with wet needy sounds, going almost crazy whenever your clit is rubbing against hers. The only thing that could be heard of you were needy muffled moaning sounds as you fucked each other like that, not wanting to leave the kiss.

Only when you both were close to cum, your lips parted as you moaned out. „F-Fuck!…m…cumming…!“ She whined before you came on esch other, your bodies trembling before collapsing on each other.

You laid in each others arms, cuddling for a while before Jinx got her usual attitude back, grinning as she looked down at you. „Heh…I got something way better for you.“ She mentioned before leaning to the side, getting something which looked like a ring she made herself with her name engraved on it. She didn’t even ask you as she slipped it on your finger. „Now you‘re my fiancee. We are going to marry and be happy forever.“ She just decided herself but you were so addicted to her by the serum she injected in you, not caring about anything else in this moment. „Of course we will stay forever. I can’t wait to marry you. I love you Jinx.“ You said before kissing her and she kissed you back, so in love with you and she will make sure no one will take you from her.

[rawbin-hsr]

Hiiiiii!! Ehmm are your requests open? If they are, could you share your thoughts about aventurine NSFW headcanons in a romantic relationship? Hope I'm not asking for too much. If you don't want to no worries!! just ignore me hehe. Still, i wanted to tell you that I really love how you write aventurine, you made me wanna listen to all his voice lines again lmao. Anyway sorry for my english, it's not my mother tongue, and have a nice day!

A/N: Ok so I decided to separate this hc into two parts (both parts are in this post just a little separated !!) because half of it is me kinda digging into his brain a little with more general stuff and the other is just more specific kinks and scenarios and stuff like that for people who are only here for the freakiness *smirks* Didn’t go in depth about anything here but feel free to send in another ask if you want me to dig deeper into something more specific 🐺

I had penis-haver reader in mind, but nothing specific is stated so reader is technically gender neutral !!

─ ⊹ ⊱꒰☆꒱⊰ ⊹ ─

CWs first section: Self destructive tendencies, mentions of hard kinks (not enacted), Aventurine not setting up proper sexual boundaries, switch Aventurine but I focus on when he subs

CWs last section: lingerie (for both Aventurine and reader), sex toys, semi-public sex, phone sex, overstimulation

Only slight aftercare mentions because any deeper digging into that will get sad real quick and I kinda wanted to keep this as not-sad as possible, but I’d be happy to talk more about it in another ask !!

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Like most people I think Aventurine is pretty open to a lot of things, but I think he also has a lot of hard limits and a lot of boundaries he hasn’t really thought about himself yet

Hard limits include hurting you, you hurting him, anything with leather, anything that makes either of you bleed, most types of bondage (esp handcuffs), any roleplay that put either of you in a position of authority over the other

(These are limits you discover a little into the relationship, because at the beginning, Aventurine claims he’s okay with everything and he would keep claiming that if he wasn’t in a very loving and stable relationship. He only feels comfortable establishing those boundaries when you’ve made it clear it’s safe to do so. 🙁)

Idk if you want me to go in depth about those hard limits because I have Thoughts about all of them but I’m assuming you want to get your freak on so I won’t go into too much detail about it, if anyone wants me to elaborate on it though feel free to send in an ask !!

I think a really big downside with him is he doesn’t really know himself how far these limits go and he doesn’t always communicate about it either. Like he’ll think light spanking is fine but then you’ll notice he kind of freezes up if you go for it during sex and after he’ll only admit he didn’t like it if you kind of push him to 😭

I think he’s a switch. I hate to say this because I know it plays into the fandom’s tendency of like,, further feminising and sexualising effeminate men and making them “bottoms” and all that but I do think he has a sort of sub lean. Or like power bottom sort of ? A brat basically. It makes me feel kind of gross to call him by these terms considering what the fandom likes to do to him but I’m using it as shorthand forgive me 💀

Or maybe I’m projecting because I have Issues and will only ever read and write dom reader idk

Like I think he likes having control, but with a partner he genuinely loves, he finds so much comfort in sort of just falling back and letting you take the lead. It’s a nice break because in his day-to-day life, he either needs to be in perfect control constantly or, when he does lose control, it’s never something good and/or a sort of loss of control he purposely takes to in order to punish himself (like when he gambles. Sure there’s a good chance he’ll win, but can he be sure? He’s always afraid he’ll lose. It’s ultimately out of his hands, since he doesn’t cheat). With you, he’s safe when he does it. It is not a gamble, it is not a bet. You unquestioningly just take care of him and it just feels nice. 

At the same time, I think he won’t be as eager to let you lead at the beginning of your relationship. He doesn’t fully trust you so he won’t leave himself as vulnerable to you. Again, I think he has a lot of issues with control and power so that really plays into it. 

(Please god don’t take this as me saying that Aventurine is ‘naturally submissive’ or some weird shit like that I will ACTUALLY shoot myself !!!! I will commit I’ll do it !!!!!!)

I imagine his libido is pretty low in the beginning. He’ll go whenever you want to, sure, but he doesn’t initiate a lot. 

Quickly changes when he grows comfortable with you though. Once he actually really does love you he’d be more than happy to go like once a day or something wild like that he’s like an animal in heat for you dawg 😭😭😭🙏🙏🙏

Happy to go at your pace though, because I really really don’t think sex is that important to him. I think he’d prefer to have sex (in the beginning because it’s exciting, and then once you two are closer it’s because the intimacy is nice), but I don’t think it would be a dealbreaker at all if you don’t wanna have sex much/at all. He’s got a hand lol

Freaky part below 😈 ngh

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I think he definitely prefers having more ‘playful’ sex most of the time. Passionate and exciting and high-energy, lots of flirting while you’re doing it too <3

I bet he’s so annoying bru teasing you and purposely saying things to get you riled up with a stupid cocky grin on his face 😒 I need him sooo bad

Enjoys dressing up sexy for you and enjoys it even more when you do it back for him. I knowww everyone says this but he’d love to buy you lingerie as random gifts every now and then. 

Loves toys. Whether you’re using them on him or he’s using them on you he’s game 😇 Fun way to switch things up !!

Ngh imagine using a vibrator on him,,, drooling,,,,,,,, anyways

Not above semi-public sex, but only when there’s barely any risk of really getting caught. Things typical for fanfiction LMAO like getting it on in a janitor’s closet. Just gotta be quiet and it should be safe, since the door’s got a lock.

Lotsss of phone sex for sure. Guy’s away a lot of the time, so if you’re okay with it he’s definitely not above sending/asking for nudes. Has a bad habit of calling you with little to no warning while he’s in the middle of masturbating too. 

Panting into the receiver, saying he needs you, begging you to talk him through it. Happy to switch to a video call if you ask for it. Super good at it too, getting the best angles and everything (unless he’s getting so desperate he doesn’t have the mind to remember things like that <3)

Doesn’t like edging LMAO he’s too impatient for that. Except every now and then and ngh it’s so rewarding once he does want it he gets soo needy so quick

Bet he enjoys overstimulation too,,, somebody put me in a mental hospital the image of him sooo fucked out he’s whimpering and drooling and mindlessly rutting up against you,,,,,,, shoot me like actually

Would fall asleep so quick after that. Barely even awake enough to put on his pyjamas after ugh he’s so cute :((

Would probably not want to wear it after anyways he likes the feeling of your bare skin against his own I bet

Make sure to cuddle and reassure him lots after you have sex tho he’ll need it. Getting him a bath and a meal wouldn’t be bad ideas either

Super sorry about how short this was I definitely think he has a lot more turn-ons and stuff that I just forgot to write here but I’m very bad at answering such broad questions my bad 😞😞 Feel free to send in more asks asking about more specific things !!!