#its a college rule- can't do that

[panzershrike-pretz]

Can I kill a nurse student. As a treat

[lxnarphase]

BITCH, YOU KNOW I'M SEXY ᯓ★

━━ ❝ I'M NOT YOUR MOMMY, N★GGA! FIND A NEW HOBBY, N★GGA! ❞ wc. 5.4k

ᯓ ❤︎₊‧⁺...synopsis : being toji's roommate, you finally snap after another night of not being able to sleep because of his damn late-night hookups. your house, your rules.

ᯓ ❤︎₊‧⁺...cw : blk!fem!reader x f. toji, frenemies to lovers, smut, face-sitting + pussy eating, dumbification, degradation, praise kink, dirty talk, playful arguing, hair pulling, size kink, begging, riding, unprotected sex (do not do this in real life omfg), dom-ish reader, sub-ish toji, lots of pet names, toji being an asshole, toji gets called a 'good boy' a few times

ᯓ ❤︎₊‧⁺...lunar's notes : toji toji toji, what am i going to do with you...anyways, this was super fun and i love these two so much and i need them to go out on a date properly at some point ! if you want to be tagged for the future posts, comment on the main post here ! enjoy baddies ❤︎

you love sleep. absolutely love and cherish it, even.

every night, you follow the routine you set for yourself without fail: hot shower, slipping into some comfy PJs, in-depth skincare, brushing your teeth, and then pulling your bonnet on.

nothing is better than slipping into bed, soft sheets feeling sooo good on your skin. yes, you absolutely love sleep.

except it seems that your roommate has no respect for your need for rest, considering how many times you've had to hear the high-pitched whining of women paired with the annoying thud of the headboard against the wall.

he better not damage the wall either, because he will be the one paying for it.

you both were...sort of friends, sure, but ever since you both graduated college, toji has been doing his best to get on your nerves. constantly picking on you, teasing you, or doing stupid shit that annoys the fuck out of you. especially whenever he leaves the fucking toilet seat up in the middle of the night.

and every time he hears you squeal late at night in the bathroom before shouting his name, he can't help but laugh.

eventually, it went from him just doing things to inconvenience or mess with you to this. and you were tired.

these nightly...activities of his need to be addressed because you are not letting a man of all things be the reason you can't sleep soundly at night. this is your apartment, after all!

it's a friday night and you just know you need to talk to him before you have to hear some woman fighting for her life of toji does...whatever he does that has all these women coming in and out of your apartment like it's a damn brothel...okay, well, it was the same two women, but still!

so that's how you find yourself, pounding on his door, sleepy, tired, and irritated in your hello kitty pajama pants and an oversized t-shirt, ready to get in bed and actually sleep.

"fushiguro, open this damn door," you command, fluffy slipper tapping on the floor as you wait for him to open his door. after a minute, you hear a groan and the shuffling of sheets before the door swings open.

toji stands in the doorway, only in a pair of sweatpants that hang low on his hips with an eyebrow raised as he looks down at you. you don't care how hot he looks, you want nothing more than to wipe that look off his face, hating how smug he looks.

"whaddya want? 's she here already? told 'er not to come for another 2 hours," he mumbles, scratching at the scar on his lip. you're silent for a moment, processing what he just said. "who......no. nononono. absolutely not, tell whoever you are expecting she is not coming into my apartment."

crossing your arms, you fix him with a tough look. sure, you know you aren't the scariest thing, especially in hello kitty pants and puffy slippers, but it doesn't matter! he is going to respect your wishes or...or else!

"aww, what's wrong, doll? can't sleep," he teases, voice low and sinfully smooth as smirk finds its way onto his face. "guess ya should've invested in those headphone y'keep talkin' about so much. can't help that 'm just that good that the girlies can't keep their mouths shut."

having you in front of his bedroom door like this...it's so fucking adorable to him, you were just so cute and didn't have a single clue, did you? complaining that he and his little playthings were too loud and keeping you up was not what he expected. but, toji won't lie, he's genuinely surprised it took you so long to finally say something.

it seems his little comment struck a cord, his smirk getting bigger when your eyes get just a bit wider in disbelief. man, you were so fucking cute like this, all angry and huffy.

"okay, first of all, those headphones are NOT comfy to sleep with at night. and i'm not dropping almost $400 dollars on something so that i can accommodate for you," you argue, stepping forward and jabbing your finger into his stupidly big chest.

no, seriously, why were his pecs almost bigger than your tits?

"can you please just let me sleep for one night, or are you that sex deprived you can't go a single night without getting your dick wet?"

whatever this new side of you was, he liked it.

"aww, sounds like little princess s' mad no one's fuckin' her right. ya not gettin' fucked good, pipsqueak? haven't seen yer boy-toy around lately anyways.

"god, that's—that's none of your fucking business, fushiguro, shut up!"

"make me."

you blink.

a moment passes...and suddenly, your eyes are sharp.

ah...he might've fucked up with those two simple words.

"...you know what? i will, you annoying fuck."

catching toji off guard, you shove him back, taking advantage of him stumbling to walk inside his room as you slam the door shut behind you. a light chuckle escapes him, eyebrows raises. "so, the little kitten does have claws," he says with a grin.

his little roommate seems to have grown a pair of balls. what is she gonna do? hit him with pillows, curse him out, kick him out? pffft, if you kicked him out he would know you needed sleep, you both have been friends for too long...right?

as toji gets slightly worried he might've genuinely crossed a line (a bit too late to realize that, he realizes), you push him onto his bed, standing between his legs.

oh.

oh, he...he likes you from his angle, looking down at him with a little bit of a pout on those pretty full lips of yours as you try soooo hard to look angry and scary. but how can he be scared when his roommate, the one he's been fucking his hand for, looks so fucking cute?

curly hair a bit frizzy and messy (he's surprised you don't have your bonnet on yet), smelling like cocoa butter and that strawberry shortcake body spray that haunts him at night. and now you're in his fucking room. he'd never be able to escape it now.

fuck, every time you came close to him, he just suddenly couldn't process anything except you...he needed to get a grip.

propping himself up on his elbows, toji locks eyes with you, playing off his surprise. "what's gotten into ya, roomie? so aggressive, might have t' call shiu to come get you," he attempts to playfully poke. the tension in the room grows when you start to massage your temples, trying to calm down.

in.

out.

in.

out.

in-

"well, if lack of sleep is gettin' you all huffed up like this, i gotta couple o' ways t' tire ya out if y'need."

"oh my god, y'talk too fucking much," you grumble.

toji opens his mouth, ready to make another smart comment but he's shocked into silence when you tug your pajama pants off. there's no fucking way this is real. toji knows he has to be dreaming and knowing he'd be waking up with a wet spot in his pants if he didn't wake up soon.

and...are you wearing hello kitty boxer briefs too? god, you're such a fucking dork, it's cute and it's only making him harder in his pants.

but all of that is forgotten when you hook your fingers in the waistband of those stupid looking boxers and drag them down those pretty legs and toji gets a glimpse of your cute, pudgy tummy and...and....

fuck.

he doesn't even get a chance to think, he's so fucking hard. you're fucking half naked in his room right now and he can't tear his eyes away from how soft you look, that little patch of hair (is it shaped like a fucking heart? jesus fucking christ, you were serious about making yourself feel pretty everywhere), god, he's so fucked.

"shit. someone's eager. just couldn' wait to-"

"i'm so sick of you," you cut off, pushing him down onto the bed, crawling up his chest. you give him a look, one that he instantly understands and he smirks, giving you a nod before you continue moving until your hips hover over his face.

the smirk melts off his face when he realizes how real this is. your bare pussy is literally mere inches away from his mouth, so close he can practically taste you.

he's not gonna make it out of this alive, is he?

when you see him about to open his mouth to make another stupid comment, you move, pressing your hips down onto his face, shutting him up. "you wanna use your mouth so much, toj? i'll give you somethin' to use it on."

toji's response is just a muffled groan, his eyes fluttering a little. his hands move up to grip your thighs to steady you and also keep you on his face. he hasn't even tasted you, but shit, you smell so good.

wasting no more time, his tongue hungrily darts out, desperate to taste you. the moment he licks over your folds, he's sighing, melting into the bed. you're so soft, so sweet and he hasn't even gotten a taste from the main source. pulling you down onto his face a bit harder, toji finally swipes through your cunt and he's addicted.

"mmh, fuck," he grunts, burying his face as deep as possible. what the actual fuck are you made of, he thinks to himself. you taste so sweet, he's getting so dizzy as he starts to messily lap up all the slick dripping from your pussy. he barely pulls away from you to breathe, taking just a second to part, his hot breath fanning against the wet mess between your legs before he dives right back in, his low groans resonating against your core so nicely.

toji slurps loudly at your cunt, unable to stop himself from rolling his hips up, the friction of his sweats on his cock a sweet relief. he's so sure this is heaven, thanking whatever god there is for making you snap to this point but then you start talking.

you sigh, hips gently rocking against toji's face as your eyes open to look down your body at him. "mmn, 's better," you purr to yourself, little sweet noises of pleasure escaping you as one of your hands runs through his hair, giving him an encouraging little tug.

"should i just give you my pussy every night so you let me sleep, toj," you coo at him, a smug smile on your face. he didn't even notice his eyes slipped shut, but he opens them, flickering up to meet your lidded gaze and see the pride swirling around your eyes.

has his roommate always been like this? toji doesn't remember you being so fucking sexy like this. sure, you've always been attractive, and he's definitely had a thing for you for a while. but never in his life did he think his sweetheart of a friend would be smushing his face into her soft cunt.

his response is a little nod and an increase in his tongue's movements against your sloppy pussy. his lips move to suck right at your puffy clit, and he swears nearly cums when you gasp his name and whine, pulling him even deeper by his hair.

his train of thought is completely destroyed, he can't think of anything but you, can't feel anything but you, can't see, can't smell, can't taste anything but you.

he'd kill a man if it meant being able to taste you like this every fucking day.

"ohh, tojibaby, y'look s' pretty eating my pussy...poor thing, jus' needed something to shut you up for a bit."

scratch that, he'd kill SEVERAL men if it meant hearing you sing praises like that while you grind against his mouth, practically suffocating him with your thighs.

it's addicting, the way slick is gushing out of you each time he kisses your clit before sucking on it, coating his mouth. toji knows he looks a wreck, but he doesn't care, not when he's got you on him like this.

"d'you wanna make me cum, toj?" you ask it so teasingly, tugging his hair again and making him moan. "you're makin' out with my pussy...such a good boy for me."

those two words are his undoing, a visible shift in his energy. his eyes are sharp, and he almost looks angry as he grips your thighs even harder. "yes, fuck, yeah, mama, i wanna make you cum all over my face," he growls, tongue unrelenting when it slips back inside of your cunt, a nasty wet noise filling the air as you keen. he's fucking you with his tongue so messily, like he'll die if he stops tasting you.

good boy. you called him a good boy.

the compliment made something snap in him, the need to devour you whole the only thing on his mind. he's not just a good boy, no, he's your good boy, and the thought of being yours makes a thick bead of precum to drip out of his cock and stain his sweatpants.

he's brought back when you tug his head back to look at you, that thick tongue of his slipping out of you.

"i don't want you bringing anymore fucking women in my house, fushiguro," you warn, glaring down at him. you're serious. if you see another girl come in here at 11pm, you might actually kill this man in his sleep and not in a way he'd like

"i'm so tired of hearing their annoying moans. if you need a pussy to put your stupid dick in, just ask me, you fuckin' idiot." shit, you usually never talk like this, but toji likes this side of you. the usually sweet and kind roommate he was so used to was no where to be seen, replaced with this commanding and no-nonsense woman who knew what she wanted.

he can't even deny, this side of you is such a massive turn on.

"promise you're gonna let me fuckin' sleep n' i'll cum on your pretty mouth, fushiguro. otherwise, i'm getting up and i'll call shiu and see if he wants a taste."

oh, fuck no. no way in hell is toji letting that smug bastard see you like this, best friend or not.

he desperately nods, just wanting you to let go of his hair so he can dive back into your sweet pussy, licking his lips to taste you again.

"promise, mama, no more bringing other women, jus' you, don't need nobody else but you, y'got my word."

"that's my good boy."

once you let go of his hair, toji dives right back to the task at hand like man possessed. his lips press against your clit, kissing it with little wet smacks before sucking it into his mouth. his tongue doesn't give you a break, flicking over it rapidly. your moans, god, your moans are getting so loud and so pretty, his eyes never leaving your face as he watches you get closer and closer.

"c'mon, doll, please," he begs, a whininess in his voice as he massages your thick thighs, encouraging you to ride his face until you cream all over it. "give it t' me, give me what i wan', cum all over my face, baby girl."

feeling how you start to move your hips, a sweet little 't-toji, 'm gonna cum' falling from your lips, his hands grasp your ass as he seals his mouth over your cunt, sucking and licking desperately.

he needs it.

he needs you.

needs you so fucking bad.

feeling him mutter those words against your cunt makes you gasp and choke out his name, thighs squeezing around his head. "oh, fuck, toji, 'm cummin, baby!" your hands are both in his hair as you desperately hump against his mouth, body shaking with the force of your orgasm.

he doesn't stop, he keeps his mouth on you to make sure not a drop of your sweet cum goes to waste. he can feel it spilling out of his mouth, down his chin and neck. it's so messy, just how he likes it.

he watches you, how could he even think to take his eyes off you? you're so pretty, do you even realize how your hair got puffier and messier from your sweating, how a few of those tiny curls got stuck to your skin?

"g-god, fuck, toj, hoohmygod, your mouth 's so good, nngh!"

shit, you're pretty, so fucking pretty, what the fuck? god, you even cum pretty, toji's so fucked. why didn't he get you on his face like this sooner?

feeling your tremors start to subside, toji slows his tongue, switching to little licks and then to soft kisses against your clit, keeping you grounded as you come down from your high. the fact he didn't paint the inside of his sweatpants white is a miracle, but he knows the front is wet and stained.

when he feels you relax, toji guides you off his face and down to sit on his chest. he can't help the twinkle in his eye, grinning at you proudly. the bottom half of his face is a mess, covered in his spit and your slick. you like this look on him.

"has anyone ever told you that you've got t'most addicting pussy ever?"

you huff a laugh, urging him to move up further on the bed until his back rests against the pillows. he was so annoying, and you hated how attractive it made him. “you’re too awake for my liking," you sarcastically huff, giving him a sweet little pout that makes him feel a bit more things than he probably should.

tugging his sweatpants down, you let out a little noise of surprise.

ah.

it all makes sense now. no wonder those girls sounded like they were dying.

"toji, what the actual hell is wrong with you?!"

"don't get mad at me, ma, i didn't magically make my dick this size! i just got lucky!"

"lucky?! girl, this is a curse, how the fuck did those girls fit this thing in them?!"

"they didn't."

that makes you pause. they couldn't get him all the way inside? glancing down at his cock, heavy in your hand, as he helps to get his pants completely off, you're not surprised. but you could take it, right?

...guess you need to find out.

shifting your hips, you move to swipe his cock through your slick pussy, a smug look on your face when he sharply inhales. "i'm gettin' my revenge, pretty boy, for all the sleep you made me lose. 's late, anyways, yeah? don't we need to sleep soon?"

the head of his cock catches onto your entrance, causing you both to sigh in pleasure. this would be a stretch, but you're determined by pure spite from toji and those women keeping you up at night.

while you're teasing him, toji is a breath away from losing his mind. the sight of you taking charge, hair completely fluffy now from the humidity in the room, has his cock pulsing in your soft hand. he's so sure that you're not gonna be able to take it all in. shit, he's wondering if he should stop you, tell you he's gotta prep you first or else it's gonna hurt, but you use your free hand to grab his face, making him look at you as an evil grin breaks out on your face.

"i'm gonna put you t' sleep with my pussy. uhm, something something, call that pussy nyquil," you giggle, slipping the tip of his cock inside of your wet, tight little cunt.

melting, that's the best way toji can describe the feeling of behind inside you, even if it's just the tip. "jesus," he hisses, his hands coming up to grip your hips. you're so hot inside, your tight walls are so snug around him. there's no way this tight cunt of yours is gonna be able to fit him in, there's not fucking way.

despite that, he finds himself guiding you down onto him, trying his hardest not to buck up into you. but the sensation of your soft, gummy walls squeezing him so perfectly is making it so challenging to stay still.

"fuck, mama...shit," he groans, watching as he is sucked into your warm pussy. once you get halfway, he expects you to stop, and that's usually where they all do. he was fine with that, more than fine, because he's never been inside someone so fucking tight.

but then, you raise your hips until just the tip is inside, and with a devious little giggle, you slam your hips down, gasping when you get him in all the way. damn, you realize it was a stupid idea, the stretch making you feel almost sick, but the reaction you get out of toji is worth it.

his head falls back against the headboard, and he whimpers, eyes rolling back into his skull, his lip pulled between his teeth as he tries to relearn how to think.

“i'm gonna make you cum and ‘m gonna fuck you stupid for not letting me sleep, fushiguro.” giving yourself a bit to get used to his size, you slowly started moving, seeing what angle worked best for you.

meg the stallion, i'm gonna make you proud of me, you think with a little smirk before you steady yourself with your hands on his chest and start to bounce your hips, your cute little threat only making his cock throb inside you.

"'m gonna make you regret bein' an asshole to your pretty roommate, pretty boy."

it doesn't take long for it to get messy, for it to get so fucking sloppy and noisy. each time you bring your hips down, the room is filled with a wet smack. you've really made a mess out of him, your sticky wet coating his fat cock and his lap, thick strands of it connecting you to him with each raise of your hips before you bring them right back down.

toji can't breathe, finally tilting his head back up as his eyes are glued to where his cock slips in and out of you. you're taking him, taking all of him into your sticky cunt and, shit, he thinks he might die like this.

"fuck, fuck, mama, c'mon, don' do this t' me, relax, please, fuckin' strangling my cock, oh my god—"

he's whining, it's so cute. who knew you could get toji fushiguro, mr. tough guy, to crumble under you like this so easily? it's so wet and gushy, the sound of your thick body smacking back down on his only making his insides twist in pleasure. he can feel how fucking wet you are, dripping down his cock, down his balls, it's so unfair.

"tojiii, talk t' me," you coo at him, your sweet voice bringing him back. "don't tell me my pussy's making you dumb already, jus' started."

you did, you're literally fucking him dumb, and he doesn't know what to do or what to say, but hearing you say his name like that in-between moans as you bounce your hips up and down his throbbing shaft has his babbling in an instant.

"god, this cunt 's perfect, baby, s' fucking perfect."

“yeah? y’like my pussy, toj? like my pretty cunt creaming on you?” you roll your hips, a pretty moan leaving you when his tip nudges against that soft spot perfectly. “f-fuck, you really are big...poor thing, no one could get it in all the way? am, mh, am i the first t’ take this fat cock t’ the hilt, tojibaby?”

you lean forward, hands moving from his chest to around his neck as you roll your hips, swiveling them in ways that have him gushing precum all over the insides of your cunt. the squelches your cunt makes with each roll is so fucking sinful and so nasty.

"y-yeah, mama, she feels s' good around me, all tight and warm, milking my cock like it's made just for you."

god, you smell so good...he can still smell your perfume and the sweet blueberry scent of your leave-in. you smell so sweet and taste so sweet too, he's so fucking lucky to have you fucking him like this. toji's hands move from your hips to your ass, helping you fuck yourself on his dick, groaning your name.

"god, you're the first to take it all, y'got me so fucking deep in that sloppy lil' cunt that y'can feel me in your stomach."

you giggle between moans, pressing your forehead against his. "y'so cute, toji, such a good boy f' me, yeah? feels so much better knowin' you can just tell me if you need me to put you to sleep, right?"

he groans, nodding as his eyes flutter closed again. "y-yeah, yes, baby, feels s' much better," he admits, breathless as he starts to get close. he can feel you getting tighter, getting wetter, and he'll be damned if he cums before you do.

"aww, listen t' you," you say with a little whine, your dominant mask starting to ebb away as you start to grow weaker and weaker. it's starting to feel good, really good, to the point where you can't think either, and you don't know how much more of this you can do. "m-my pretty boy, my good boy, f-fuckin' me s...s-so good..."

the moment he picks up the whininess in your voice, toji is alert, looking into your eyes to find that the pleasure is finally catching up to you, too. "yeah? yeah, mama? she's feelin' good? fuck, 'm gonna fuckin' fill you up, baby, gotta cream this pretty pussy so deep that she feels it f' days," he grunts, mouth open as he pants against your lips.

they look so pretty, he wonders if you taste like that lip balm you always carry, if your tongue is as sweet as you are, if your plump lips are as soft as they look. the thought of them pressing against his is what breaks him, and he's so embarrassed at the noise he makes before leaning back against the pillows and planting his feet into the mattress.

"i gotta fuck you, gotta fuck you good, 'm sorry, 'm so sorry, baby, promise i'll let you sleep, promise i'll be good for ya, okay? mm, fuck, c'mon, let toji make it better, gonna kiss your cunt with my cock and make it up t' ya."

toji fucks into your hole desperately, groaning at the loud wet plaps of his hips smacking against yours. your moans, god, your moans, they're so pretty, you're so pretty. he can see your tits bouncing against the fabric of the shirt you have on, and he curses, so fucking mad he didn't have you take it off. but he doesn't care, not right now, not when he sees how gorgeous you look.

he's so fucking prideful when he sees how poofed out your hair is, bouncing with each thrust up into you. "y're so fucking pretty, c'mere."

one of his hands grabs you by the back of the head and smushes his lips against yours, hungry as he licks over them before shoving his stupidly thick tongue inside your mouth. the kiss is just as messy as the rest of you, and the pitiful little moan you give has him reeling.

"i-i'm, 'm gonna cum, toj," you whisper against his mouth, nails biting into his shoulders as you do your best to match his pace. you're gonna cum, he's gonna make you cum, you're about to cum all over his fucking dick, jesus christ.

"fuck, you're so hot, so cute, mama, my pretty girl. need ya t' cum, dolly, can y'do that for me? please, baby, cum on me, make a mess s' i can fill you up an' apologize like i promised," he rambles before kissing you again, biting your lip before running his tongue over it.

it's so close, you can taste it. it's so unfair how big his cock is, how you can feel every vein and throb of it inside of you, how you can feel his hot precum smudging all over your velvety walls.

the realization that he's inside you raw has you moaning so sweetly, and your pussy is gripping him for dear life as you dig your nails into his shoulders even more, head falling forward. "t-toji, 'm, 'm gonna—f-fuck!"

you're cumming, you're cumming on him, and it feels so fucking good. you're creaming all over his lap, and your crying and moaning his name so sweetly he feels like he's gonna pass out. "baby, babyyy, no, lemme see, lemme see you cum," he begs, the hand in your hair tilting your head back up and the view he gets has his hips stuttering inside you.

your eyes are unfocused, long lashes wet from tears as you pant and whimper for him, all for him. and when you make eye contact with him, he feels your gummy walls squeeze him so tight.

"oh, fuck, yes, mama, jus' like that. keep cummin' on me, keep goin', 'm so close, gonna cum, gonna cum in this pretty pussy s' fuckin' deep you feel it in your tummy," toji babbles before he's losing himself too, pressing your head against his chest as he fucks into you, savoring your overstimulated cries for him. "'s gonna go deep, so fuckin' deep an' i'm gonna fuckin' eat it outta you, just like y-you fuckin' deserve—!"

with a pathetic sounding groan of your name, he's giving one, two, three, four hard, deep thrusts, moaning as he pumps his thick load into you, feeling your oversensitive pussy milking him dry. "g-good boy, g'fucking boy, tojiii," you whimper, moving from his chest to pepper kisses all over his face, moaning softly as you feel his hot cum coating your walls.

his mind is so blissfully blank that he doesn't even realize he's shaking a little bit from how hard he just came. cooing happily at him, you cup his cheeks, trying to bring him back down to you. "come back t' me tojiiii, don't die on me, roomie!"

still reeling from his insanely intense orgasm, manages a little chuckle, his hand moving from your ass to under your shirt, stroking your back. "'m here, 'm here, promise...i just...shit. ya fuckin' drained me, girly. what the hell are you?"

you laugh, kissing the corner of his mouth before nestling under his chin to catch your breath. "I'm your damn friend who happens to be the roommate you have been tormenting by not letting me sleep, dumbass."

"heh. fair point."

you both stay like this for a bit, just resting a little and trying to catch your breath. except...toji's eyes feel a little heavy, and he feels himself drifting away. "there you goooo," you coo, hand running through his hair. "told ya i'd put you to sleep."

"yeah, yeah, you were right," he grumbles and opens an eye, hand coming up to pinch your cheek. "jus' a lil' nap, okay? we still gotta get you cleaned up. after all, i promised i'd clean my cum outta ya, right?"

"my god, toji, you are nasty."

"but you like ittttt."

you couldn't stop yourself from laughing because, yes, you did. you liked it a lot.

soon, the room falls quiet as toji's breathing falls into rhythm with yours, the rise and fall of his chest steady and slow. his mind is still a bit dazed, and he can't help but get a little flustered as he realizes how badly he's wrapped around your little finger. the thought is only further confirmed when he feels his heart squeeze just a bit when he notices you fell asleep on his chest.

he wraps his arms around you in a gentle embrace, huffing to himself. yeah, so what he was whipped, he finally got you in his arms, so he sees it as a win.

as sleep finally starts to creep up on him, he presses a little kiss to your forehead, leaning back against the pillows and shutting his eyes. just a little nap, and then he'll get you cleaned up and make sure you accept his apology for everything he's put you through.

...he just hopes you won't be too grumpy when you realize you fell asleep without your bonnet on.

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ᯓ ❤︎₊‧⁺...lunar's tags : @satoruwiki @llllllllllllloser @screampied @abcdbleh @vicfuentesfangirl @sakurapeach @ohsuguru @crywolfix @naughtygobbo @aura88967 @jeanine-gt @tananaxx @tojancy @happymangosstuff

[oh23]

one au im working on is jason coming back from the dead, and from the league, but not as red hood. he just sort of, is too tired and traumatized to continue being an anti hero and be all violent or take it out on his dad, so he sorta comes back as just bruce's Son, yk?

anyways, fast forward, He's just the child of the fam who does NAWT do any vigilante stuff. He's a Regular college student (ha ha) studying Literature and maybe some Art or fancy shit idk.

He stays up with tim doing assignments while Tim works on cases, Works out casually in the gym while his brothers spar. Does homework in the mornings while the rest come back from patrols, makes them cereal or breakfast.

His college gossip has the whole house hooked, nobody gives a fuck about the Riddler's foiled plans, everyone just finishes up and comes up for movie night and Jason, with his half finished popcorn goes "So you know Jessica and Tyler from History class who got caught last week for making out -? Yeah you're not gonna believe what they did today-" and Everyone would lose their minds asking for the Continuation.

Bruce lets jason hang out in his Office, or even with the League cos he's just chill like that.

Bruce calls him his Most Normal Son. "Why can't all of you just be like Jason?" He thinks atleast twice every day when he finds Damian and Tim covered in eggs on opposite banisters.

there's also this version where Jason is like ur hot nerd rich and quiet chill college mate; like he's buff and hot, but also an absolute nerd and doesn't have many friends, and comes and goes on a million dollar definitely customized bike (Wayne Money).

And he has this bright red custom helmet.

NOW: hear me out.

The vigilantes of Gotham have gained a very anonymous and random aid; a guy who just randomly comes at critical moments on a black bike and bright red helmet to patch any vigilante who's down.

Most rogues assume he's just a Non-bat bystander who's stalking the bats and rogues and trying to help , but ofc, its actually Jason, who in his free time pulls up but just with 2 guns and a first aid kit.

He either patches them up or takes them away if they need. His helmet is bulletproof, and his bike too. He shows up in black outfits.

Never really joins the fight, but doesn't hesitate to pull out a gun while patching the Bats up.

He's chatty and sassy, super chill.

Non- vigilante, provides med support, doesn't follow the no killing rule, can cook; he jokes he's the Next Alfred.

[little-miss-apple]

jealous hard hot steamy rough sex??? 😫😫😫😫

((oh hell yeah! obvious CW// for jealous and rough sex. probably lots of mistakes bc it's almost 4am and I did not reread to check so bear with me.. also did not do the fancy coloured words for now bc its a pain in the butt... also this takes place at a time where they are aware of their own and eachothers feelings but arent "exclusive" yet, just to clarify))

It is no secret that you love getting a rise out of Caleb. It's not often that you get to see his carefully curated persona crack. Even when he's upset, he's not one to raise his voice against you.

But today you did it. You made him loose his temper. And now he's dragging you back home by your wrist, refusing to let you go.

It had started a few days ago when ran into an old college friend in Skyhaven. Jeremy and you couldn't hang out that often back then due to conflicting schedules, but now he had a few days of work and you were taking a holiday in Skyhaven anyway.

Jeremy had always been a bit wilder than most, enjoying parties every week, getting drunk on school nights and violating campus rules from time to time. Nothing changed, Jeremy was still the same guy he was back then, just with a big boy job now.

Caleb felt a bit off when he first met him, maybe it was his possible bad influence or maybe how comfortable he was touching you right in front of him. But you seemed to allow it and he didn't want to start a fight with a stranger in front of you.

His annoyance kept growing everytime you got a message and would giggle, engrossed in the conversation on your phone.

"who's that, pipsqueak?"

"oh.. just Jeremy!"

"what did he say?"

"nothing.. nothing..." you'd dismiss him, still giggling.

His emotions boiled over when he came home late at night one day, finding nothing but a note on the kitchen table.

'out with Jeremy, will be back by 12am :)'

It was already well past 2 A.M. and you weren't picking up your phone. Frustrated he opens his tracking app as a last resort. He had told himself not to use it unless it was absolutely necessary, but right now felt more than necessary.

He is still in uniform when he stalks into the club. Some people give him weird looks, but he can't be bothered to care. All he cares about is finding you and getting you out of here.

Thankful for his convenient height, he looks over people's heads until he finds you on the dance floor, Jeremy's body practically glued to yours as you dance under the flickering neon lights.

Suddenly you're snatched away by your arm. Dragged outside the club by a familiar figure. The bouncers, who Caleb had threatened earlier when they didn't want to let him in initially, shamefully look away, tails between their legs.

"Get in." are the first words he speaks the second you get to the car. There is no room for discussion as he basically forces you into the car with the use of his evol before making his way over to the drivers side.

He doesn't say a word as he starts the car and speeds off. Luckily the roads are empty because even you feel a bit nervous at his current speed, but deep down you know he would never put you in danger.

The ride home is quiet, a thick and obvious tension in the air and even if you're a little tipsy, you know now isn't the time to start a fight.

When you arrive at his apartment, he doesn't waste time. And now he's dragging you back home by your wrist, refusing to let you go.

"you're being too rough..." you mutter once inside. He looks at you with angered, darkened eyes, brows furrowed. Yet he let's out a sigh and loosens his grip. He doesn't want to hurt you, he can't.

"Don't go out with him again. Matter of fact, give me you phone. I will block him for you."

"what? no... i don't wanna."

"He is clearly a bad influence, you can't hang out with him again!"

"You don't get to choose that for me, Caleb!" you argue back.

He let's out a deep sigh, closing his eyes as he tries to suppress his emotions by himself, not wanting that damned chip to take over.

He steadies himself, his tone calmer and more composed.

"He was all over you, he was touching you in ways he shouldn't, I don't want you to see him again."

"...or what?"

That's it. You've done it now.

Before you even realise what has happened, you are slung over his shoulder as he stalks into his room and throws you on his bed, hoping you don't notice the way he softens your landing with his evol.

"Your safe word is apple. I don't plan on being soft or gentle, so use it when you need it." he says as he practically rips of his uniform until he's wearing nothing but his pants.

He reaches down, untying the ribbons of your lace up heels as he mutters some some words in frustration.

"You're always defying me lately. I'm trying to take care of you, I'm trying to make you as comfortable as possible and hold myself back... yet you're out there grinding on some guy I don't even know... it's pissing me off!"

You scoff. He's pouring his heart out and you fucking scoff.

He pushes you back down to the bed and yanks down the top of your strapless party dress. He hovers over your exposed breasts, hunger evident in his eyes before he surges down, capturing one of your nipples between his lips, sucking and licking the bud while his hand kneads your other breast.

You feel the urge to tangle your fingers in his hair but your hands are held above your head by his gravity evol.

He switches nipples, making sure both get equal attention. He loves the sound of your moans, the way you wither under him and desperately try to rub your thighs together.

He detaches his mouth from you breast, instead leaving marks all around the area. Light bites and purple marks are forming as he ravishes your skin, fondly looking at the art he's leaving behind.

"will he still touch you if my marks are all over your skin?"

He gets up, standing between your legs as he allows you to sit up. You're eye to eye with the tent in his pants. He pulls down the zipper, eyes never leaving your nervous ones.

"Suck." he commands when he fully pulls out his thick and hard member, his veins throbbing at the sight of you, his tip a muted pink and leaking precum. "If it's too much, tap my thigh."

Though as caring as ever, he leaves no room for objection as he slides his cock into your mouth. But you're struggling, mouth dry from the alcoholic drink you had earlier.

His thumb and pointer finger hold your soft cheeks as he leans down and tells you; "open up." You obey but are taken aback when he spits in you mouth, helping you lubricate before shoving his throbbing cock back into your mouth.

He gently fucks into you, hand on the back of your head as you can't help but gag a bit. But you don't tap out. Instead you feel yourself growing wetter at the lewd sounds leaving his lips and the way his face contours in pleasure as swirl your tongue over and around his member.

He looks down into your pleading eyes. It's clear you want to make him feel good and for a moment he debates on cumming in your mouth, making you swallow his seed, but he decides against it.

"Can't waste a drop when your pretty pussy hasn't even been touched yet..." he mumbles to himself more than to you.

You're pushed back down on the bed as Caleb now fully tug down you dress, leaving you in nothing but your black, lace panties with a little pink bow in the front. He lifts your legs over a shoulder as he slowly slides the off, revealing your wet hole ready for him.

He spreads your legs, after not so subtly slipping your panties into his back pocket for later, and enjoys the view of you practically leaking onto his sheets. Embarrassed by how exposed you are and how hungrily he's staring at your entrance, you try to cover yourself with your hands, but they are quickly restrained by his evol again.

"Nuh-uh... I can look at what's mine all I want..." he growls.

He puts your legs on either sides of his head, resting them on his strong shoulders as he takes his cock and slides it along your wet folds in a teasing manner. A shaky moan leaves your lips and it makes him feral.

No longer having the patience to tease you, he stretches you out with his thick cock, not stopping until he bottoms out fully. You're already clenching around him, trying to adjust to his big size.

"fuck... you feel so good, sweetheart..." he says as he slides out and slams back in. You squeal when his balls hit you, over and over again.

"He could never make you feel like this... only I can! this pussy was made for me, you know that right, pretty girl?" he grunts as his pace increases. you mumble an unintelligible agreement as he pushes you legs to you chest, hitting angles you didn't even know were possible.

You feel a strange warmth bubbling in the pit of you stomach. Your whole buddy begins to tingle from the tips of your toes up to the top of your head. You clench around his length as you come hard, spitting out mumbles that resemble his name.

He rides out your orgasm, not pulling out until your stuttering clenches have stopped.

You're about to close your eyes when you are suddenly turned around, on your hands and knees before he pulls your upper body against him.

"You thought I was done with you? after what you've been putting me through these past few days?" He scoffs as he aligns himself with your entrance again, one of his muscular arms snaking around you neck, keeping your face nestled between his muscles.

"I'm far from done... Gonna make sure your pussy is shaped like my cock, so no one else will ever feel as good and filling as I do. Gonna make you cum so hard, all you'll remember is my name and how good I make you feel. Gonna fuck you so good, you're legs will be like jelly so you can't run away from me..." His free arm sneaks around your waist as his fingers find their way to your clit.

He pushes in again. Your thighs are already weak, but the way he has trapped you makes it impossible to to escape your position and all you can do is hold on to his muscular arm. He smoothly falls into a quick and ruthless pace.

If your brains weren't getting fucked out right this moment, you'd probably think about how grateful you are Caleb doesn't have any neighbours, because the ungodly sounds you're making are loud. Moans, groans, curses, mumbles and eachothers names echoe through the room.

He's rough but it feels so good and the way his calloused fingers rub your clit is making you see stars.

"C-caleb! Gonna.. gonna cum!" you say as you feel that familiar feeling spread through your limbs again.

"Go ahead, baby... Cum on my cock, yeah? want your juices dripping all over it... want you to say my name, tell me you're mine alone..." his strained voice reveals he's not far from cumming himself.

The heat and tingles spread all throughout your body, even harder than the first time.

"I'm yours, Caleb! Only yours... oh my gosh... All yours, Caleb-!" the words leave your lips like a chant before turning into a mumbled mess as you cum again. You're clenching onto him so hard, sucking him in in a way that milks his own orgasm out of him.

You feel your juices mixing inside of you as he fucks both of you through it. The room is spinning and specs of light blur your vision. Your body goes limp in his embrace, but he doesn't let you down until he completely emptied himself inside you.

When he has nothing left to give, he pulls out with a plop. He gently lays you down on his pillow. Your brain is mush and you struggle to conjure up any real words. Caleb laughs softly as he shushes you; "it's okay pipsqueak, I gotcha'.. just lay down for now, okay? I'll get you some water and clean you up, yeah?"

He takes care of you as diligently as ever, wiping you down with a warm, wet towel, bringing you a glass of water and making sure you're okay before sliding into the bed next to you. He pulls you into his chest, gently stroking your hair as you listen to his calming heart beat.

"Does it hurt anywhere?"

"no... just a bit weak and sleepy..."

He let's out a soft, relieved laugh.

"'m sorry if I was rough.. just wanted to remind you you're mine..."

"did you ever doubt that?"

He is quiet for a moment.

"no... but I didn't like seeing that guy so close to you, touching you like that... he enjoyed it way too much..."

You snort.

"I doubt you'll have to worry about that... I'm not exactly his type."

"How could you not be? have you seen you-"

"He's not into girls, Caleb..."

There's a moment of silence.

"...oh."

You laugh as the realisation hits.

"besides.. even if he was, it wouldn't matter... because I'm yours, only yours..." you whisper as your eyes close and you drift into a soft slumber in your lovers arms.

"yeah, you are..." He says as he kisses your forehead. "...and I am yours."

03:11 A.M.

Jeremy: are u okay? he seemed really mad...

Jeremy: I just wanted to scare away that creep but seems I caught two flies with one stone lmao

Jeremy: u better tell me everything over coffee tomorrow ;)

[pomefioredove]

If requests are still open, maybe Riddle with a very affectionate s/o/yuu? Like very kissy and cuddly, can just sit on his lap for cuddles when alone, stuff like that

ofc anon!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ riddle and affection

type of post: headcanons characters: riddle additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu, established relationship, kinda long

most days, you aren't even sure how you pulled Riddle. Ace and Deuce have joked that you really do have magic, after all, because no ordinary person would be able to win him over the way you have. even Trey has called it remarkable.

before you, Riddle simply had no interest in love. his parents weren't exactly the picture of romance, and he never indulged himself in romantic literature, unless it was a part of his curriculum. and when it was, it was always his least favorite.

"why can't they simply think rationally?" he would ask himself

...and then, suddenly, he's at the reputable Night Raven College, housewarden of its strictest dorm, a second year with the prestige of an alumni, and he's "ignoring" the rules you break and "forgetting" to give the punishments he promised.

after all, if you were serving detention with Crewel, you wouldn't be with him. you're addicting. he never knew how much he needed a hug every day before you started giving them, or how much he would enjoy being flustered by your kisses (enjoy embarrassment? his past self would scoff).

but there you are, every day after school, in his room with the door shut tight to prevent any "distractions" while he "helps you with homework"

...that homework being cuddling, and hugging, and kissies. it's become an unmovable part of his schedule, one that he will make time for, down to the minute. he can't neglect his studies or his duties as housewarden, but... he can move things around a little.

Ace has personally thanked you for being "such a ditz" with your homework that Riddle needs to help you study, so he has less time in the day to punish him for being annoying.

...you figure that some things are best left unsaid.

[ckret2]

please more evil ford please i stare with my puppy eyes for this i am obbsessed

Yeah all right, I've been working on some art. (For context, we're talking about this Evil Ford.)

Evil Ford is Evil as in "cheerfully works with Bill even after learning his full plot" and "is totally ready to conquer and/or destroy the world." But other than the shocking lack of basic ethics and the supervillain objective he's mostly the same guy—which means he still cares about his family. He's hoping to get them to join in on the world conquest plan.

Forty-odd years ago he went off to college promising someday he'd be a big shot scientist who changes the world and he'd make his family a fortune. If taking over reality doesn't qualify he doesn't know what does. The family can join him and his buddy Bill and rule the universe together. Pines Pines Pines Pines!

Unfortunately for him, the rest of the family still has normal moral compasses. And also they've met Bill.

Bill can't currently possess Ford due to Reasons; but even though he can't get in the driver's seat he still has permission to ride shotgun at any time. Ford talks to him pretty regularly. He HAS been caught doing this. Stan thinks he's just gone a little nutty from thirty years of isolation.

Naturally, since he was always on Bill's side, Ford's perception of events during Weirdmageddon is a bit different:

I finally made an official Evil Ford New Costume Character Design, check out his exciting totally different brand new look:

I decided that, since Ford is still basically the same person aside from his terrible life goals, he'd probably have the same fashion sense. And so... nothing changes except two tiny details lmao.

But he DOES have tattoos:

I traced a canon character model and took off its top to get a base to slap tattoos on, and then went dang... they gave him a big head and arms. He looks goofy. Anyway,

His forearms have less incriminating tattoos—just a birch tree and a sunrise. (The sunrise looks like the Journal 3 "The Muse Has Spoken" page.) The red text is the "triangulum entangulum" ritual; if anyone asks he'll go "it's uhh an ancient Sumerian poem about how great science is." It's not until he's topless that it's like "oh so he's a CULTIST cultist." The one exception is an unconcealed Eye of Providence on his right palm—but it's in an ink that's only visible in certain lighting. It's there so at any time he can point his hand at something and go "Bill are you seeing this BS?"

Of course, he still has the "hey now, you're an all star" neck tattoo. I didn't have room to draw it.

As you can see, he's made being Bill's right hand man a core part of his personality. Rather than spending 30 years scrabbling around the multiverse desperately searching for a way to destroy Bill, he spent 30 years chilling in the Quadrangle of Qonfusion as Bill's specialest favoritest Henchmaniac, and only scrabbling around the multiverse occasionally for fun & profit.

Here's a photo Bill & Ford took at a Nightmare Realm house party like fifteen years ago, three minutes before Bill started an argument and set the house on fire.

Most people have their wild party years in college, Ford has his in his 40s.

[mandalhoerian]

(3) 🦭 signed, sealed, delivery pending...

The seal you rescued coming back to the same cove might be momentary serendipity meant to be wow-ed at from afar like one does a documentary, but you're determined to take it as an opportunity of a lifetime to gain his trust and prove yourself as a Disney princess. He's going to become your friend. Period.

genre: fluff, comedy | word count: 6K | read on ao3

< previous | next >

note: i need you guys to see this to visualize what the reader does when the grinch gets mentioned. i almost burst my appendix laughing at it idc if its not funny. please enjoy!!!!

You almost get grounded. For till college.

But being the center of attention in your friend group and the story of a wound that will leave the coolest scar are totally worth the perma ticket booth sentence (jail).

It's not all that bad. It's just that, instead of loading cargo or directing people or helping out the passengers, you got sentenced to boredom, stuck behind a window, taking payment and handing out change and never allowed to leave. Plus, everyone knows you. Which means that no, the ticket master metaphorically posing with a Yu-Gi-Oh duel disk can't give discounts to the old lady who brings you a crocheted hat, or to the fisherman who promises to bring a fresh catch of mackerel to your family's kitchen, or to the little girl who wants to go see the seals, has no cash and can only pay with a bag of homemade cookies...

Speaking of seals, you go back to that beach, a week after the incident when your grounding is more flexible.

But of course, there's no trace of that adorable rascal. You feel a little sad, a little disappointed, a little under the influence of the magical encounter that had you daydreaming you could be Snow White. Then again, you wouldn't want him to hang around in fishing areas. You hope he's doing alright, somewhere, hopefully, not getting caught in nets anymore.

Elias tells you that the seal colony on the islet has forms during breeding and pupping season each year during late spring and early summer, and when he hears you recounting the event and describing the seal, you find out that the one you saved is not one of them.

Apparently, pups are tiny. The one you rescued was either a juvenile or a sub-adult, though the gender is still unclear. You're a little stunned, having expected to have rescued a baby, not an adolescent. Elias explains how the rookery is a nursery area, and females tend to congregate there to give birth. Male seals are territorial and competitive, and often live in the surrounding waters. So maybe that seal was a male weaned off of the same rookery. If you had saved a female, the chances of ever seeing her again would have been higher, since they return to the same rookeries and stay there for a couple months. Males, on the other hand...

Well, at the end of the day, he's probably long gone.

Wrong.

You eventually encounter him on the same small cove the following week. In broad daylight this time.

Dad has hired a couple of staff members to help out, so you have a lot more free time to enjoy your friends and explore the archipelago. Despite the time restrictions. So, even though going back to where you met the seal for the first time was born out of hope to see him again at first, it's also about conveniennce with how close it is to home unironically, and therefore, not violating curfew rules.

So, it's just another day with your picnic basket and beach towel, heading out to the shore in your shorty wetsuit. You have a novel to finish, some music to listen to, snacks to munch on, and the promise of long-awaited solitude to savor.

You've just set up your blanket and opened the book when a loud bark scares the shit out of you.

Startled, you whip around to find the source of the sound — and gasp as a large, gray shape emerges from the water, lumbering towards you with clumsy bounces that echo with the 'boing, boing, boing' sound effect in your head, dragging its blubbery body across the sand and stopping at the edge of your blanket.

You can't quite comprehend what's happening right now, transfixed by the cute, pink tongue peeking out of its mouth as it tries to catch its breath.

It's the exact same seal from before, his familiar markings and the faint scars of the netting you untangled him from unmistakable.

The same seal that was supposed to have swam away to freedom. The same seal that's supposed to be a wild, feral, unpredictable animal is here, looking at you, waiting for something, making an occasional huff and snuffle the more you stay unresponsive.

You're frozen in place, unable to react, mind racing, trying to make sense of the situation. A part of you wonders if this is a dream, but the gritty sensation of the sand in your flippers that reminds you of your discomfort and the warm rays of the sun on your skin assure you otherwise.

Finally, the seal seems to grow impatient and shuffles closer, nuzzling his whiskered nose against your knee, the gesture somehow both gentle and insistent, coaxing you to react. His fur is damp and cool, and you swear his dark, round, limpid black eyes are staring straight into your soul, a knowing intelligence lurking within his soft, expressive depths.

"There's no way," you gawk, not knowing where to put your hands and they flail for a couple seconds in excitement.

He's approached you willingly, showing no signs of distress or aggression, and in fact, he seems oddly not on guard. He's not a pup, and yet he's displaying behavior that's more suited to domesticated dogs, not a marine mammal that's supposed to avoid humans. Seals are curious creatures by nature, and encounters with people aren't unheard of, but this level of familiarity is unusual considering the traumatic circumstances under which the two of you initially met.

"Hello, hi, oh my god, hi, hello???" You try cautiously, not daring to reach out and touch him, but keeping your tone soothing and welcoming. You're actually going to scare him off if you let out the squeals roaring inside. "How are you doing, buddy? Is that really you?"

The seal's whiskers twitch in response to the sound of your words, his head cocked to one side in a manner that suggests attentive listening. It's almost as if he recognizes your presence, and that thought sends a shivery thrill through you.

"You remember me?" you ask, a tentative smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. Your heart leaps as his head waves up and down. You choose to take that gesture as a yes instead of the air sniffing to vibe-check you that it actually is. "That's so sweet of you!"

A low, rumbling noise reverberates from deep within the seal's nose, and you can't help the giggle that escapes you. It sounds like a cross between a snort and a grumble, a strangely endearing combination that's distinctly his own.

"I'm not sure what to make of this," you continue, feeling more at ease in his company, despite the absurdity of the situation. "What are you doing here? Saw me and wanted to hang out?"

His only answer is a single, melodious yowl, followed by a series of chirps that resemble the playful squeaks of a dolphin. You can't help the warmth that spreads through you at the sound, a sudden fondness for the strange, gentle creature washing over you as he flops closer to lie just beside your blanket like you two are friends sitting next to each other, rolling onto his belly and stretching his front flippers in a leisurely, cat-like stretch. You're not a trained zoologist, but his behavior is clearly indicative of trust, and that's enough to convince you that the connection you feel isn't imagined. This is the most peculiar, wonderful surprise you've ever had. And the best part is that, in the middle of a summer vacation that had been filled with ups and downs, you have made an unlikely friend...

Oh, he's actually sunbathing. With you.

And his coat looks healthy. That's good.

The way his head looks when he closes his eyes... Like a content bean, a happy, satisfied little guy. So cute.

God, you can't pet him.

The seal expert in the island is Elias, who works with the conservation team on the rookery islet. Maybe someday, if things come to that, he could guide you, but for now, you're not risking harming him in any way. Especially not after rescuing him from a near-death experience.

He opens his eyes when he hears scratching. Particularly, you scratching along the seams of the bandages on your forearm. You haven't realized you had been unconsciously picking on them because of the itch till the moment the seal's penetrating stare burns on the area. How peculiar. He seems to possess object permanence regarding the injury and understand the concept of wounds, or at least the effects of them. Or are you delusional?

"Curious, huh," you say, pulling your hand back and flexing the muscles in the arm to relieve some of the irritation. "You remember this as well? It's your love bite, bud."

The seal makes a soft, inquisitive grunt, and then begins to inch his way across the sand to make it back to the sea, and a disappointment that makes your face fall down settles upon you at the prospect of him leaving already.

"Oh..." you mumble. "Leaving so soon?"

But the seal doesn't seem to be departing. Instead, he dives gracefully beneath the surface of the water, disappearing from view. Confused but intrigued, you remain seated, watching the rippling waves with bated breath. After several long, anxious moments, a silvery fish bursts forth from the depths, thrashing wildly in the seal's jaws. He bites down fiercely, severing the life of the fish in an instant and sending a spurt of blood into the salty brine. Then, he swims back to shore and boing-boing-boings over to deposit the lifeless prey at your feet, his tail slapping eagerly against the wet ground, dark, round, expressive wet eyes shining bright with pride and excitement.

It's a gift. You're certain of that. A token of gratitude, perhaps, or a symbol of camaraderie.

"Oh, thank you," you say, genuinely touched by the gesture. "You're such a gentleman. But I'm not hungry, so... Actually, do you want to share it together? Would that be okay?" You pause, studying the seal's reactions carefully. "Yeah, that's what we're doing."

With that, you reach for the fish, its cold, slippery scales slick against your palm, and break it in half with a fruit knife you brought along in your picnic basket, setting one portion aside and offering the other to the seal. He sniffs at the proffered meal, whiskers quivering, before opening his mouth to accept it. You watch in fascination as his powerful teeth tear into the flesh, marveling at the delicate balance of predator and companion that exists between the two of you. There's something about sharing a meal with a wild animal who caught it for you in the first place, that feels sacred. Ancient, and special.

"You know what, you can have my half, I’m really full," you concede, not being able to resist his eager gluttony. You decide to share with him since he shared with you, as well. "Sorry if I'm not much of a huntress, but here's a little treat that'll blow your mind. Hopefully." You start rummaging through your belongings, searching the contents of the basket. "Let's see, let's see... Aha! Here it is!"

When you turn around, you nearly jump out of your skin to find the seal right there behind you, looking at the basket curiously. He seems very interested in the container. Maybe he's figured out it contains food, somehow. Could seals smell through a plastic lid?

"Woah, woah, hey, easy," you murmur softly, reaching up to gently boop him on the nose and watch in fascination as his entire head disappears by sinking into his body at the contact.

Oh!

Oh no.

You're going to die. Cuteness overload. Right here, in front of him, and on this day. It's like his skull has disappeared and his blubbery neck absorbed his face into his torso. If the purpose is to protect himself from predators, that's not the vibe the gesture is giving. At all.

Holding the container of sashimi, you let him take a peek at the contents. When his nose starts wiggling and his tail starts flapping, you can't help the grin that breaks out. He seems to have understood that whatever is inside is edible, and his eagerness is infectious, sending a jolt of glee and satisfaction coursing through you at the thought of providing him with a new experience.

"Look, look, this is called sashimi," you explain, selecting a small piece of raw salmon and holding it out on your palm. The seal sniffs at the morsel tentatively, his nostrils flaring, before he darts his tongue out and wraps it around the slice of fish, pulling it into his mouth.

He's so gentle with it too, not even nipping at the flesh of the hand that's feeding him. Just a soft, light brush of his tongue, and a content, satisfied swallow, and the taste must have been to his liking, because he emits a low, throaty squeak of pleasure, a sound that sends a warm, fuzzy feeling fluttering through your chest. Has he been socialized at some point in the past to know how to take food from humans, maybe by fishermen or tourists? Is he simply a naturally affectionate creature? You fully expected him to be more cautious around humans given his recent trauma, and yet, here he is, demonstrating an openness that defies all expectations and assumptions.

"Well, you've got good taste," you remark with a chuckle, watching as his tail thumps excitedly on the sand, signaling for another serving. The sight of him making a 'begging' pose in the most literal sense melting your heart. "Fine, you can have it all. But only because you're so charming."

One by one, you feed the remaining pieces of sashimi to him, fascinated by the feel of his smooth, pink velvety tongue against your fingertips each time he accepts a bite one would being licked by a cat or a dog. His enthusiasm is contagious, and you can't help the laughter that bubbles up in your own throat, a bright, sparkling sound that rings across the deserted stretch of coastline and makes him perk up and look up at you, head tilted in curiosity, a sort of startled, wide-eyed, puppy-dog stare.

"Aw, sorry," you apologize, realizing that the volume of your laughter might have overwhelmed him. "I'm just happy. Happy to be here, with you. This is the best beach date I've ever had."

You watch, in real time, as the seal sputters from his nose, the recoil of his jiggling body rocking him backward and to the side as he avoids eye contact in a manner that parallels dogs when they’re being recorded, and finally decides to completely flee back to the sea.

You blink, speechless, trying to figure out what you did wrong.

"...Was my laugh that ugly?"

You are convinced this is a good idea.

You’ve seen the TikToks. You know the method. You’ve watched professionals do this with thousand-pound animals that could kick them into the next dimension, and it works.

And sure, your friend is technically a seal and not a horse, but the principle is the same. Desensitization. You introduce scary things in a safe, controlled way, and boom — no more spooky, jumpy reactions.

It’s foolproof.

If it has to be something like doing crazy dances with a plastic bag or throwing a duvet over their heads to trigger less anxiety, then so be it. There is logic and science behind this method, even though it requires you to humiliate yourself in front of a wild animal and hope that there isn't a secret camera hidden somewhere recording you acting like a clown and saving the clip online to become meme fuel.

"Alright, bud," you announce, stretching your arms like a coach psyching up a particularly useless team. "Today's the day."

If you expect anything resembling acknowledgment, the seal gives none; instead, he seems content to continue nibbling delicately at a lump of kelp, ignoring you completely while reclining on his side like a Victorian noblewoman on a fainting couch atop a sun-baked rock. His sleek gray coat glistens brightly as he sprawls across the stone, flippers twitching lazily as his attention wanders in search of tasty tidbits amongst the fronds of green algae still trailing from his mouth.

Seeing him this relaxed sends a wave of relief through you. Your relationship has improved exponentially since that first day the two of you officially met. He's grown noticeably more accustomed to interacting with you without showing any signs of fear or discomfort. You're no longer regarded with suspicion or alarm whenever you approach — instead, he welcomes you, greeting your presence with cheerful squeaks and soft snorts that always send warm fuzzies flying all across your cheeks. Not that you keep score, but lately, he's been initiating more interactions than before, nudging you with his nose, pawing gently at your leg to draw your attention, even resting beside you whenever he gets the chance, seeking comfort in your closeness in ways that leave you giddy with happiness.

"AAAA!" you shout, stretching your arms in a T-pose to make yourself look bigger.

The seal violently flops to the side, rolling down the small incline of the surrounding rocks like a giant, damp potato.

"Oh my god!" You rush to help him with choked laughter, kneeling at his side while he struggles to get his balance and reclines up on his flippers.

He shoots you the ugliest death glare.

"I'm sorry," you say, forcing your lips into a thin line to hold back your smile. "Was I too scary?"

The seal huffs sharply in response, causing a few loose strands of hair to fall over your face from the wind. Then he reaches his head forward, and slowly, deliberately, rubs his cheek against your bandaged forearm before flopping back down. It takes you several seconds to recover from the attack of cuteness, by which time the seal has rolled around again in the direction opposite of you so that only his round, puffy butt faces toward where you kneel in the sand.

Pouting. Definitely pouting. It's so adorable, did he get embarrassed? Ahhhhh!

You spend the next few minutes running around the seal and making unexpected movements like a drunk ostrich on sugar rush just to see how he'd react, following that up with a sorcerer in the middle of a magic attack combo with flicking jazz hands right to his face, then re-enacting that one scene from How the Grinch Stole Christmas in which the titular character tries to scare of Cindy Lou by barking at her face acting crazy in a little step forward-and-back dance with claw-hands, looking like you were about to attack him but faking him out at the last second.

Needless to say, you get nothing other than keen interest like you were a jester and he was the king sitting in the audience taking great pleasure in your performance, full-on radiating medieval royalty urge to always have entertainment while eating.

You decide to change tactics. Step one: Introduce the Object.

From your backpack, you pull out a bright blue towel and give it a dramatic shake.

“See this?” You wave it like a deranged matador. “It’s just a towel. Harmless. Normal. Not scary.”

His whiskers twitch. His head tilts slightly, like you’ve just shown him a complex tax form.

You wave it again, closer this time. “Ooooooo, look, it moooves. It flaps. It’s just fabric.”

Still no reaction.

Encouraged, you take a step closer, still waving the towel like you’re trying to summon a demon. “See? It’s fine. Totally normal. You don’t have to be scared.”

The seal makes a noise — something between a huff and a chirp.

Then he snorts.

You freeze.

Did… did this seal just laugh at you?

No. That’s ridiculous. Animals don’t laugh. You’re being paranoid.

Step Two: Make Contact.

“I’m just gonna touch you with it a little, okay?” you say in your best soothing horse-trainer voice.

He does not, in fact, agree to this.

But he also doesn’t move away as you gently drape the towel over his back.

Success!

Or at least, it is success, right up until you start rubbing the towel over him like you’ve seen in the videos, mimicking the slow, rhythmic motions that are supposed to be calming.

“Good boy,” you murmur, nodding approvingly. “See? Nothing to be scared of. Just a towel. A friendly, normal—”

The seal erupts.

One second, he’s still. The next, his entire body vibrates like a malfunctioning washing machine.

Then — he flops.

Not just any flop. A dramatic, full-body collapse into the sand, legs flailing, his head rolling back in what you can only describe as unhinged, wheezing laughter.

You just stand there, gripping the towel, watching this damn seal lose his mind.

He keeps snorting. His non-existent shoulders shake. He slaps the sand with one flipper, no different than an old man gasping for air between belly laughs.

You recoil. “Am I being fucking laughed at by a seal right now? Nah. Naaaah, that can't be.”

He lets out an actual honking noise.

Your face burns. “I am trying to help you, you little sea rat!”

A loud, loud crying. More slapping.

He is mocking you. This has to be mocking. Or is it that your own self-consciousness has finally manifested in the world and acquired a shape? Maybe that's why this feels like teasing; maybe you're projecting.

With a defeated sigh, you plop onto the sand beside him, still gripping the towel like it holds the last shreds of your dignity.

Well, at least you found out he is desensitized, alright. A win is a win.

The following weeks, the island's weather grows warmer. And, with the rising temperature, the seal's visits become more and more frequent, almost daily, until his company becomes a constant fixture of your free time.

It's a bizarre, inexplicable relationship that defies all reason and logic — that a seal would hop on land to come visit instead of being encountered while swimming. A wild marine mammal that should fear and distrust humans has decided to form a bond with you, seeking your presence out of his own accord, and showing an intelligence that goes beyond instinctual behavior.

At least, that's what you're inclined to believe. You're no expert. Just an observer of this delightful, unexpected friendship that has bloomed between the two of you.

You're not sure what draws him to the tiny, secluded cove where you've been meeting him, nor do you understand why he chooses to stay on the shore with you, sunbathing on the warm sands and indulging in the snacks and treats you bring him, rather than returning to the open ocean. But every time you arrive, he's there, waiting, a large, lumbering shape that barks and squeaks upon seeing you, waddling over to greet you as though you're an old friend.

His trust is a precious thing, a fragile, irreplaceable treasure that you cherish dearly. And, in return, he shows a level of affection that would put many a domestic animal to shame.

He nuzzles against your legs, rolls over to reveal his belly, and even allows you to touch and stroke the soft, supple fur on his head sometimes if he feels like it that day. It's a privilege, a gift, and you're acutely aware of the responsibility that comes with such intimacy. You handle him gently, cautiously, mindful of his comfort and well-being, and never pushing past the limits of his tolerance or patience.

You learn to read his cues, to recognize the signs of contentment and discomfort in his posture and vocalizations. When he's relaxed, his body language is loose, his limbs splayed out on the ground in a lazy, sprawling manner that suggests a deep, boneless ease. He grunts and chirps in a low, rhythmic cadence that seems to express his pleasure and satisfaction, and the sound is oddly soothing, a gentle, melodic counterpoint to the steady, pulsing rush of the waves crashing nearby. Snorts and snuffles are indicators of inquisitiveness and curiosity, while a high-pitched whistle signals excitement and happiness, often accompanied by an enthusiastic wagging of his tail that resembles the motion of a dog's. When he's upset or nervous, his entire body stiffens and he pulls away from your touch, a clear signal to give him space and respect his boundaries.

You're proud to say you haven't discovered his anger yet, but the day you walk in on a tourist group in your cove becomes the answer to your question.

This isn't the rookery. There are no guides or rangers to keep everyone in check. These tourists are on their own, exploring, and they have stumbled upon the wrong spot. They're being stupid, and the worst part is that they're not even breaking the law. The fact that the seal is in the water is enough not to be trespassing, and therefore, not punishable.

As you approach the crowd gathering around a particular spot, your heart clenches at the sight of your friend cornered into a small cave, no — more like a fissure in the rock formations that surround the cove, that reaches just ten meters from the shore.

These guys want a picture with the seal, which has gone hostile obvious from his jaw making snapping motions and is trying to dive back into the sea as far from them as possible.

It's all because he was waiting for you here.

There's nothing you can do other than run towards them. And maybe distract them by waving your arms frantically and screaming, "What the hell are you doing?! Didn't you see the sign that says this area is private?!"

You know lecturing them about how they're causing distress to the animal is futile, so, Karen-mode it is.

Surprisingly, it works, and they run off. But not before complaining and whining about how "there's no fucking harm in this".

Sure, asshole. There’s no harm in distressing the poor seal that shows obvious signs of wanting to be left alone.

After taking care of them (read: screaming at them) and calling Elias to come get rid of them, you rush back to the beach to make sure your seal is okay.

He won't look at you.

If there's anything you learned the hard way is that a wild animal never acts erratically without reason, whether it be a bird pecking insistently at a window or a rabbit darting across the road when you least expect it. So it stands to reason that if your companion completely ignores you as he makes it out of the cave and makes a beeline towards the sea, he must have a valid cause for doing so.

Maybe you were too close to these strangers, maybe your intimidation and aggression were too much for him.

You hope he knows you'd never put him in danger willingly.

"Wait," you call out after him, raising your hand above your head to attract his attention and willing your frantic heartbeat to settle back down into a normal rhythm. You don't want to frighten him further by shouting or running up behind him, chasing him down — the last thing you need is to scare him off altogether after working so hard to gain his trust.

To your amazement, he actually pauses, hovering midway between the cave and the water, hesitating, glancing warily back at you over his shoulder. It's eerie sometimes that he reacts how a human would, but also quite remarkable. You're positive it means he understands you, that your interactions carry meaning for him.

But now that he's stopped, you don't know what to say. Hey, sorry some jerks scared the shit out of you. I don't know them. Please don't think I lured them here to you.

Why would you have this conversation with a seal?

So, you walk up slowly to the spot where he still stands, and then sit down crosslegged next to him on the sandy rocks that divide land from sea, trying to appear nonthreatening and reassuring in equal measure. For several long, excruciating moments, the only sounds are the distant cries of seagulls overhead, the restless rustle of the surf rushing back and forth against the shore, and your own breathing growing faster the longer the silence stretches on.

He allows you to remain there, and doesn't delve back into the waters either, so that's something. You still have his trust. You could also cry about still having his trust. What a wonderful being.

"I'm sorry," you offer tentatively, hoping that the note of sorrow ringing through your words will convey the depth of regret behind those two simple syllables. "They weren't supposed to come here."

His round, wet nose twitches rapidly, whiskers bobbing with every flicker and flutter, his sleek, blubbery body shifting subtly from side to side. His tail slaps the sand in a frenzy, kicking up sprays of loose soil and scattering fragments of seashells in all directions. "Gegh!" he screams all of a sudden, making you jump. "Ggighphh!"

"Okay, I hear you," you reassure him hastily. "Next time I'll yell at them harder."

"Gyeeaaagh..."

"Uh huh, that's better. I hear you."

"Greph, l'egg!"

"Do you forgive me?"

"Miphhh."

"Oh, you’re so sweet…”

A week passes before you try to meet him again, giving him ample time to recover.

He never reappeared when you came by alone to the cove after your usual duties ended — you began wondering if maybe the incident left him traumatized, too sensitive to want to risk further confrontation — but there's a sense of relief in knowing that he hasn't abandoned you entirely.

When you step onto the beach one morning, bright and early before the sun has fully risen above the horizon, his dark shape emerges from the waves to greet you once more, shambling awkwardly across the pebbles as though eager to confirm your presence, and your heart absolutely leaps at seeing him back.

Something about this meeting feels different than before, there's a rush in his mannerisms that wasn't there previously, and as he approaches, you notice his head is uncharacteristically held low. It reminds you of a child who has something important to say but doesn't know how, or dare, to begin talking.

He stops just a few feet away from where you're standing, staring resolutely at the ground instead of maintaining direct visual contact, and remains completely silent save for an occasional chirrup that seems directed inward more than toward you.

"Hey, buddy," you begin softly, afraid to disturb the quiet. "How've you been? Long time no see. Missed ya, little rascal."

He explodes with an accusing, "Ya!" and smacks his front flipper on the sand as punctuation. The sneeze that follows is rough. "Hphaaa — mmphm..."

"Ohhkay, wow, someone sure is pissed today," you raise a brow.

He doesn't like that.

And for the first time, you witness a temper tantrum from him.

He barks loudly, tail flapping and nostrils flaring in frustration as he tosses himself back and forth across the sands, flopping wildly, kicking his finned tail and letting out shrill cries of outrage whenever you start approaching closer. Even as you stand a safe distance away, he continues to glare balefully up at you, snuffling and squealing disapprovingly as though offended that you're even present during such an intense bout of sulking.

Witnessing the rare display of bad humor has your shoulders shaking uncontrollably in fits of giggles despite the fact that he's acting irrationally, which is kind of rude from your end because obviously it can't be funny from his. But when you manage to contain yourself and regain some semblance of composure, you notice that his dramatic display has evolved into something more reminiscent of theatrics of an overgrown puppy trying its hardest to prove its ferociously cute point, and not the primordial rage fit that you thought initially. His face is scrunched up as if stuck halfway between a yawn and a grimace; his eyelids squeezed tightly shut while his mouth gapes wide open, showing off rows of sharp, deadly teeth and pink gums.

It's such a hilarious sight, such a ridiculous pose, that before you know what you're doing, you're reaching down to tickle under his chin lightly — unable to quench down your need to pet and coo at him despite his obvious agitation — and surprise surprise, instead of biting off your entire arm clean off, he goes still beneath your fingers for a moment.

"Oh you're such a cute baby boy. Cute, silly baby. You've got anger issues, mister, huh? Yes, yes, yes, who's the toughest seal ever, huh? Who's the cutest, most adorable seal in the whole wide world?"

To your amazement, he lets you do it, humming softly in response to the gentle rubs and pats, his body relaxing under your ministrations until eventually he closes his eyelids altogether and allows you to continue petting him without interruption or complaint, emitting low growls of contentment in place of displeasure.

"Aw... You missed me that much? Don't worry, I'm not gonna leave ever again unless you ask." Getting to pet him — ever, for the matter — wasn't exactly something planned, so you were bending at the waist, but the way this is going smoothly, you end up sitting down to keep doing it. You smile fondly at the way his gray, dry fur (which indicates he's been on land for a good while) bristles outward beneath your fingertips. "Beautiful, beautiful baby boy. So handsome! Yup, yup, yup..."

Suddenly, his whole body goes rigid.

Then, abruptly, without warning, he moves like a missle, rolling himself onto his side so that he's facing you directly, twisting his torso toward you with unexpected agility, and rests the topmost part of his torso against yours, nuzzling his head along your neck gently. With a start, you realize what he's attempting to do: hug you.

As soon as you comprehend the significance of what is happening, you throw your arms around his broad, muscular form in return and lean forward instinctively, returning the embrace eagerly despite the awkwardness of the angle due to his size relative to your own physique.

"Ghiilaghiiii," he drawls out, the vibrations rumbling deeply inside of him resonating throughout your body in waves until they reach every corner of your being and gets you almost dizzy with elation. "Phyaaaaaaggghhieeeeeehgllll..."

Is it normal to be in tears after such an action? Because here you go. This seal has missed you, wanted a hug and made sure to deliver. How wonderful life is.

"I missed you more, you lovely angel. Thank you for wanting my company still," you sniffle happily into his fluffy coat, inhaling the musky scent of saltwater mixed with fresh sea spray that surrounds him like an invisible cloud. He should smell like fish or algae, but weirdly, he smells nice. And clean. How does a mammal even manage to get this fragrant when living in water? It shouldn't make any sense whatsoever, especially considering how much time he spends in the surf each day yet manages not to get sticky or covered in crusty buildups of dried plankton like most seals tend to develop after spending prolonged periods submerged undersea. "I'm so happy you don't hate me and decided to stay. I thought I had scared you away forever..."

He makes a sound like blowing raspberry at you, whacking his nose against your collarbone roughly enough that you wince inwardly but refrain from complaining aloud, not wishing to discourage him from enjoying the contact.

"Can I stroke you right here as well?"

You know he knows what's going on because he gives an approving hoot at your inquiry, tilting his head upwards against yours momentarily before resting it back atop your collarbones, letting loose a series of joyful chittering noises that sound distinctly like laughter. If nothing else convinces you of his intelligence then this certainly does the trick. An ordinary wild animal wouldn't react in such an interactive way nor would it care enough about interacting with another species unless desperate or curious, yet he has chosen to engage with you consistently since the two of you met all those weeks ago.

"Who is a good little cutie pie? Who is my gorgeous little sweetheart?"

This is probably getting overboard, but he clearly enjoys it based upon how excitedly he flops about while getting fussed over, his long tail beating happily against the sand each time you speak praise unto him in the rythym of your pets. Clearly delighted by this sudden affectionate assault, he bounces and chirrups playfully whenever you pause between complimenting him, eager to receive attention regardless if he comprehends fully the meaning behind it.

Eventually, though, things become less amusing for you due to the amount of strength needed for you to maintain both the position as well as support his huge head (noticing it was very dense and surprisingly heavier than it looked), forcing you to eventually call timeout.

However, before letting him free completely from the hug, you decide to give him a kiss on the nose that instantly turns your insides into mush as you see him close his giant, round, glistening black eyes for a fraction of second like a cat would before blinking them open again, gazing deeply straight into yours and holding your stare.

And proceeds to sneeze directly into your face.

"Thanks. Now we're officially best friends," you proclaim solemnly while wiping spit off your face.

You name him Raf.

You're not entirely sure how you came up with the name, to be honest. Maybe you overheard a tourist saying a variation of 'Raf' or 'Rat' or something similar and subconsciously picked it up from there? Who knows? The only thing you remember is that one moment you were teasing him about naming him 'Crybaby' -- 'BB' for short, and the next you hear yourself muttering 'Raf' out loud like something within your brain clicked. Like it was whispered right into your ear.

When you said it aloud for the first time, Raf perked up so intensely that you realized instantly the name was perfect for him. There was no doubt whatsoever — this was his name. A fitting, powerful one for such a gentle spirit that just happens to sound like a person's name.

But of course, when asked, you say it's short for riff-raff.

[roosterforme]

Aim for the Sky Part 19 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: More friends meet Rose, and your parents fly home, leaving the three of you to figure things out together. Bradley is struggling with the six week rule, deeming it unfair that you look so good while he can't have you the way he wants to.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, adult language, lactation kink, messing around, oral sex, DILF Roo

Length: 4100 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Aim for the Sky masterlist. This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.

By your parents' last evening in San Diego, Bradley had put them in touch with the realtor he used to buy the Craftsman. They spent hours walking around Coronado with Rose in her stroller all week, looking at houses and getting more ideas. And then they delayed their flight home two times. The fact that they didn't seem to want to leave their grandchild was heartwarming, and now they were seriously talking about moving.

"By the end of the year, we are moving" your mom said, burping Rose in the living room. "I just can't stand the idea of waiting until July to see her again. Makes me want to cry."

It was April now, and they promised to come back for a visit around Independence Day. Bradley already had plans circling in his mind about where he could take you for a few days alone, because things were about to get a lot tougher without your parents around. The two of you were going to need a little vacation to look forward to. And if he could get you alone, he could get his hands all over you as much as the two of you wanted.

"So, are we going back to Mexico or Hawaii in July?" Bradley asked later that night while he watched you get undressed before bed. Your tits looked incredible, nipples huge and pert as you removed your nursing bra.

He forgot what he had even asked you as you ran your fingertips along your breasts and scoffed at him. "Neither, Roo. We have to get serious about saving money for Rose to go to college in just eighteen years." When you pulled your shorts down, he could see your rooster tattoo, and now he really couldn't think.

Bradley grunted. "She'll get a full ride to school. She takes after you. She's already a genius. Whenever I call Tramp, she points right at the dog."

You sighed and smiled at him. "I think you're being optimistic." Your hands were back on your tits, and he immediately reached for his cock, your eyes tracking his every move. "Bradley."

"What?" he rasped, thinking about last week in the backseat of the Bronco. That was the last time the two of you really messed around, and he could tell there were moments when you were uncomfortable in your own skin. But he hadn't stopped wanting you for a single moment. "How do you expect me to watch you strutting around the bedroom completely naked and not get hard?"

You turned toward the bathroom for a few seconds and muttered, "I look weird."

"You look beautiful." When you finally met his gaze, he said, "I love you too much to lie to you, Sweetheart."

He was plainly hard in his boxer briefs with his hand resting on his thigh. He'd never try to pressure you to do anything physical if you didn't want to, but there was no way he was going to let you think you suddenly turned him on less than before.

You dragged your fingers across your breasts again, and Bradley groaned before you tangled your fingers in your necklace chain. You looked a bit bashful, and even that was fucking him up.

His voice was raspy, and his throat was dry as he sat up and asked, "Do you want me to show you?"

You shrugged and looked at him out of the corner of your eye. "Only if you want to."

He was up off the bed in an instant, grabbing you as gently as he could. "Roo," you gasped in surprise as he carried you back to the bed.

You were completely naked, head on his pillow, leg hitched around his hip, and Bradley kissed you so hard, you were moaning. "If you leave the decision up to me, I'm always going to want to show you how I feel about you," he said, voice deep and needy. His fingers grazed along your body, lower and lower until he touched your clit, and you arched off the bed.

"Fuck," you moaned, voice breaking.

"You're so fucking hot," he whispered, running just his index finger through your pussy. You were soaking wet. "You're killing me, Baby Girl." He traced your tattoo, decorating your skin with your wetness while you looked up at him with parted lips and half lidded eyes. You watched him bring his finger up to his lips, and with one swipe of his tongue, he was moaning, too. "Six weeks is a long time when you look this pretty and taste this sweet."

Your teeth sank into your lip before you murmured, "You're killing me, too." Then your fingers were tangled in his hair, and he eased his body down so he was resting against the warmth of your core. It was so close to what he wanted right now, but he knew he couldn't go all the way there. The frustration building inside him was almost pleasurable as you gasped his name as he sucked on your neck.

Nails pressing into his scalp, you didn't stop him when he pulled himself free from his boxer briefs and ran his cock through your pussy. "Jesus Christ," he hissed, guiding his hips away from your body as you pushed him off of you. But instead of telling him to stop, you rolled him onto his back and yanked his underwear down his legs.

His cock was in between your lips before he knew what was going on, and he saw stars as you sucked on him. "Fuck, Sweetheart. Oh, god."

You pulled him free and shook your head. "If you can't be quiet, then I can't give you a blowjob. My parents are out in the living room."

"Please, stop talking about your parents and just give me head," he begged, already panting as you smirked at him. His balls were already tight as you licked your lips and parted them once more for him. Your tits looked irresistible as you knelt between his spread legs, and he would be lucky to last a full minute with this kind of treatment. "I was supposed to be the one showing you how much I want you," he whispered, trying not to thrust up into your mouth.

You responded by taking him deeper until he was grabbing at the bedding to hold back his orgasm. This time when you pulled him free, your saliva dripped onto his thigh. "Just take what I can give you right now."

Two pumps of your fist, and you were sucking on him until he came long and hard, fist in his mouth to make sure he was quiet. You swallowed down his cum and licked him clean as he stared at the ceiling in a daze. "You give me everything."

------------------------------

You fell asleep with a smile on your lips after your husband took his time with you, rubbing your clit with practiced fingers and whispering the dirtiest things about how good he was going to fuck you in another few weeks. As it turns out, you also needed to be reminded to be as quiet as possible, especially when he was a whining mess over your breasts.

Even though you knew Rose would have you up in a few more hours, you let yourself drift off to the sound of Bradley's heavy breathing and the warmth of his body. Whenever you started to feel bad about the way you looked, he seemed to be able to lure you back on track. He didn't mind your weird body one bit, and in fact, he was literally counting down the days until you and he could have intercourse. And you wanted it, too.

You barely heard your daughter when she started crying to eat around midnight, because your mom was in the nursery with her so quickly, it was ridiculous. When you padded down the hallway, still half asleep, you could hear her singing to her granddaughter. 

"I got her," you murmured when you walked into the room, and you realized your mom was crying. "Are you okay?"

She kissed Rose's head and whispered, "Of course. I just don't want to be so far away from the three of you. Rose is exactly the way you were as a newborn; a sweet little snuggle bug who turns into a bit of a terror when she's hungry. I can't get enough of her."

You laughed as you sat down in the glider, and she handed your daughter to you once you were ready to feed her. Rose curled up against your body, clearly very hungry. "She is honestly so sweet."

"I love her so much," your mom whispered. "Are you going to be okay when we leave in a few hours?"

You stared at the night light in the corner of the room, surrounded by darkness otherwise. The exhaustion you felt since Rose was born started to get better while they were here, and you knew for a fact that things would start to get harder again soon. "Yeah. We'll be okay. Bradley and I will take some vacation time in July when you come back to stay with her." You met your mom's eyes where she stood. "You and dad are really good at this."

"I'm happy you think so," she said softly. "Retirement is looking better by the minute."

She sounded like she was about to cry again, so you politely kicked her out of the nursery before she could start. She needed to get some rest before their flight home, and you needed to get used to doing this on your own again. You almost craved the routine of going back to work. You missed seeing Cat every day, and you even missed your boss. Rose would be old enough for the daycare pretty soon, and you could sneak over on your lunch breaks to check on her.

But at the same time, the idea of someone else taking care of her for eight hours a day had you almost panicking. "Why are you like this?" you whispered to yourself. You could barely control your emotions at times right now.

"My girls okay?"

Just hearing Bradley's voice made you relax, and you realized Rose was starting to slow down as you turned to look at him in the doorway. "Yeah. I was trying to let you sleep."

He gave you grabby hands, and you noticed he had the Nugget notebook tucked under his arm. "Let me burp her and read a bedtime story so you can go back to sleep."

You knew he had to drop your parents off at the airport in a few hours and then turn around and go right to work, but he wasn't going to be deterred. He took Rose and settled down on the floor with a grunt, kissing her head as she yawned. With the night light shining next to him, he juggled her and opened the notebook, and you stood in the doorway and listened for a few minutes as he read one of his entries to her.

"You'll never guess where I am right now. No really. It would be impossible, because even I don't really know where I am! But it's somewhere in the Pacific Ocean, I know that for sure. And while I'm really, really far away from you and your mom right now, the two of you are all I can think about."

--------------------------------

Bradley was standing in the living room wearing Rose in her carrier and holding two massive bags filled with gear. "Is this all really necessary?" he asked as you ran around grabbing more stuff.

"Do you think we should drive?" you asked, popping the stroller open and looking at it with concern.

"Sweetheart, the beach is like three blocks away," he replied, trying to keep his tone even.

"The beach with a lot of rocks is like three blocks away," you said, exasperation lacing your voice. "Do you think we should drive up to the better beach?"

In his opinion, all of the beaches in Coronado were going to be the same, as long as the two of you didn't attempt to walk down the cliffs beach with her yet. "I think we should just go to the closest beach for a little bit and then head home again."

You sighed in annoyance. "Just for a little bit? Well then what was the point of packing all of this shit?"

Bradley desperately wanted to scold you for swearing in front of the baby, but he used every fiber of his being to press his lips together and clear his throat. "It's the Nugget's first time at any beach. We're just going to have to see how long she lasts before we need to bring her back."

"Fine," you replied, picking up the bag of sandwiches you packed and heading for the front door. "I just wish I knew why babies required so much stuff. Nothing about this is easy."

He followed in your wake. "I'm pretty sure all the babies of the world got together and plotted against their parents, because all of it is hard." At least that got a smile out of you as you plunked your sunglasses onto your nose, and he followed you out to the porch. "Let's just leave the stoller here. I like carrying her."

It was actually so beautiful outside, Bradley was thankful it was a Saturday. You took his hand in yours, waving at the neighbors along the way. "You look stupid sexy with that baby carrier on, Roo."

"Stupid sexy?" he muttered, adjusting the little sun hat on Rose's head. "Explain."

"I tried," you groaned. "But you don't listen, Bradley. You're a DILF. Even the way you're taking care of Rose is hot. Like you're already handsome, but now you're just oozing so much sex appeal, it's stupid. Like an ovary explosion." You made a sound like a bomb blowing up and gestured with your hands in front of you as you walked.

"Yeah... I don't see it," he murmured, reaching for your hand again. When he looked in the mirror now, he saw more gray hair and quite a few wrinkles, but that didn't stop him from trying to be the best dad he could. "I'm just focused on Rosie. You and Rosie. My girls."

You gave him side eye. "That's what makes it stupid," you muttered. "You know what, it doesn't matter." You kissed Rose's fingers as the entrance to the beach came into view. "Hey, little Nugget," you whispered as her eyes fluttered open. "Welcome to the beach."

The expanse of sand and the glittering water beyond were so bright, Bradley shielded her face, and she burrowed against him. "It's okay, Rosie," he murmured, kissing her hat as he hustled along the mostly empty beach. "Daddy's got you. I'll get you set up with some shade. I like the shade better, too."

It was a joint effort, the way you held the baby while Bradley ran around, setting up a canopy and laying out blankets and towels. "You're stupid sexy, too," he said as you distracted him for about the tenth time. "You know that, right?" You didn't verbally respond, but you did look pleased with yourself as you set Rose down on the beach blanket, fully in the shade. 

"Do you want to take her down to the water?" you asked, looking up at him.

He shot you an incredulous look as he took his shirt off. "Are you out of your mind? The waves are massive! Something could happen to her!"

Now you were doubled over in laughter on the blanket next to her. "It's not like I suggested that you take her surfing, Roo! Just carry her down to the water's edge!"

He was still hesitant. "Okay. But just for a quick look." Bradley scooped up his daughter, who always looked delighted to have him around, and he carried her slowly down the beach until the cool water met his toes. "This is as far as we go," he whispered, kissing her cheek as she closed her eyes. "Until you've had swimming lessons." He felt your hand on his back, and he turned to you and asked, "When can Rosie take swim lessons?"

"Bradley, she's less than a month old."

"That's probably when future olympians start," he mused as you rubbed sunblock all over his back and shoulders. You were standing in front of him now, laughing and swiping the lotion on his nose when an older woman stopped walking along the beach to approach you.

"You have a beautiful family," she said, smiling at Rose who was currently yawning.

"Thank you," Bradley replied, turning a bit so she could get a closer look. When she offered to take a photo of the three of you, he had you reach into the pocket of his cutoff jean shorts and unlock his phone for her.

Bradley looked ridiculous in the picture with windswept hair and streaks of sunblock on his face and shoulders, but you and Rose both made it his new favorite photo. He set it as his phone wallpaper.

---------------------------

"Am I doing this right?"

Cam was sitting on your living room couch, holding Rose with a look of sheer panic on his face. 

"No," Maria told him. "You're not. And you look constipated."

You started laughing and didn't even try to hide it. "Just hold her against your chest, and she'll probably fall asleep. She's definitely a snuggler."

He did as he was told, but there was still a firm crease along his forehead. "Babies are terrifying," he muttered, letting you adjust his hands for him.

Bradley was still at work, having agreed to teach another dog fighting drill with Maverick, and you were thankful your friends were keeping you company. It wouldn't be too much longer before you were back at work yourself, where you would be able to see your friends more frequently.

You watched Maria stand and kind of limp into your kitchen. "Does anyone else want a drink?"

"Absolutely not," Cam replied. "I need to keep two hands on the baby at all times."

He got an eye roll in response from you as you told Maria, "Sure, and I also need you to tell me why you're limping. Are you okay?"

A devilish smirk found her lips. "Maybe you should ask Bob about that one."

"Ew," Cam replied. "Unless I'm the one getting plowed by an aviator, I don't need to know any details." When you opened your mouth to say something, he quickly added, "You're just as bad as Maria, so don't even start with me. Just let me be afraid of holding your child in peace."

Then he settled back against the couch with Rose, and you joined Maria in the kitchen. "You're like seriously limping," you whispered, and she snickered.

"It's not what you think. I just can't resist giving Cam a hard time. Bob and I were in the shower together, and I pulled a muscle."

"Maria," you hissed. "You were in the shower with Bob, and you expect me to believe it wasn't sexual?"

"I wasn't," she insisted, getting two glasses of water ready and handing you one. "I just... ever since he got back from his deployment... I really like being around him as much as possible."

You knew how Bob looked at her. Like she was a mermaid. Or a fairy. Something magical and unbelievable. Maria wasn't known to be gushy or sappy, but she talked about him like he hung the moon, and that was all you needed to know.

"I'm happy for you."

She smiled just as you heard Cam gasp and start freaking out. "I think the baby pooped! Cancel that- I know the baby pooped! I need backup!"

By the time Bradley got home from work, you had dinner in the oven, and you were nursing Rose on the couch. Your husband looked exhausted but freshly showered with damp hair, and he made a beeline directly for you. He kissed your forehead and then her tiny fist. 

"You alright, Roo?"

"I had a long day," he whispered. You were a little worried that something happened that made him seem so tired, but he smiled as he said, "But your appointment with Dr. Morris later this week is going to make it all worth it. I can't wait to hear her tell me I'm allowed to fuck my wife."

"You're so horny!" you complained half heartedly as he kissed your cheek before heading into the kitchen to take dinner out of the oven as the timer went off.

"Six weeks is a long time when you've got your tits out all day and all night."

Truthfully, there were times when you were positively aching to be with him like that, but there were moments when you couldn't understand how he still wanted you. Your stretch marks were wild, and you looked so flabby and weird. You had no idea how you'd manage to lose the weight you gained when your whole world revolved around pumping and feeding Rose, and on top of that, you'd be back at work soon and busier than ever.

You heard Bradley's groan of delight from the kitchen as he took a bite of dinner. "This is delicious, but still not as delectable as you, Baby Girl."

Even when your brain told you not to believe him, your heart did.

----------------------------

Bradley insisted on accompanying you to your six week checkup with Dr. Morris. He sat in one of the chairs in the exam room with Rose all wrapped up like a burrito in his arms, careful not to get her perfect face too close to his hard insignia pins. He watched as you got a pelvic exam, and then the doctor pushed on your belly while you made a face of discomfort. He held Rose a little tighter when you tried to smile at him.

"Everything feels and looks good. You can head back to work next week," Dr. Morris said as she removed her latex gloves. "Do you have any questions for me?"

Bradley listened to you rattle off several questions which rolled into a fresh conversation with your doctor. He really didn't want to be the one to ask about intercourse, but now you were sort of smirking at him. Okay, you were treating this like a game, toying with him. He was absolutely down for that, and it wasn't like he hadn't completely embarrassed himself in front of your physician before.

"If neither of you have any other questions, you're free to go-"

"Actually, Dr. Morris, I do have one last question." He cleared his throat and stood with Rose while you started to get dressed, trying to hide your smile from him. "I'd really like to have sex with my wife as soon as possible. Is that six weeks postpartum rule hard-and-fast, or would tonight be suitable for that kind of thing?"

You were hiding your smile behind your hand, but he could tell you were laughing as Dr. Morris humored him. "Well, the guidelines say six weeks, so I would absolutely stick to that. We like to make sure proper healing has occurred. If you don't start taking oral contraceptives right away, I would definitely advise you to use condoms." She glanced at your chart and added, "Two more days probably won't kill anyone, and at that point, you'll be at six weeks."

"Speak for yourself," he grunted, slipping Rose back into her car seat carrier. "Thanks, doc."

"Two more days," you told him as the three of you walked out to the red Bronco. "You're doing great, Daddy."

Bradley groaned as he buckled both of you in, and he pulled out of the parking lot without another word.

You shouldn't have been surprised, but you definitely were when, two nights later, his phone alarm started blaring at one in the morning. You were just settling back in bed after feeding Rose when you looked at him with wide eyes. "Wait, did we forget to do something?" you asked. "What's the alarm for?"

Bradley simply held up his phone screen for you to see the alarm which was titled My wife is exactly 6 weeks postpartum.

You rolled onto your side, cackling with laughter. "It's not funny, Baby Girl. I've been waiting for this moment for a long time." He snuggled under the covers and said, "I'm ready to get my world rocked whenever you feel like rocking it, so you just let me know."

His eyes were closed when he felt your lips ghost along his cheek on their way to kiss him. "Why not right now?"

----------------------------------

Let this man fuck! Let him fuck his wife! He earned it. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 20

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@solacestyles

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@bcon24

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[leafostuff]

Her money dont jiggle jiggle (but her boobs sure do) [FT. Lightsum Nayoung]

Tags: Smut, Quickie, Titjob, Dirty Talk, Hooker!Nayoung, BFH-ish,

Author's Note: Part of @i-am-lifeform24's Project, was supposed to be a standalone smut but I figured that the idea is best for this project and he was kind enough to let me into it late, this counts as my July upload

thank you, and hope you will enjoy this fic

================================================

"So? You are the next customer?"

You gulp, not sure what to say to the beautiful girl in front of you, her clothes resemble the look of a popular college girl: a frilly white lace corset top that revealed her surprisingly cute belly and navel, paired with a denim skirt that left her thighs exposed for you to see.

Meanwhile you were just sitting there, nearvous and shirtless since those were the rules of the club, "Uhh yeah... here's the receipt" you answer, its obvious you are trying your hardest not to stare at her chest while you hand her the recipt, you still a bit surprised that you were convinced by your friends to spend 100$ on this new club, but the premise of real kpop idols being hookers was the nail in the coffin to get you to come.

As the girl finishes scanning the recipt she throws it to the side, "Okay good enough" she says nonchalantly while she gets closer, making you feel nervous by the second, and you are not the only one as just a look from her toward your pants causing her cleavage to displayed to you forms an erection, rolling her eyes she says in a tired voice, "whatever, let's get this over”

One swift motion and her top is thrown to the side, wearing no bra as instead her breast reveal their true form to you, almost freeze in place from the spectacle in front of you, however no time to waste about admiring them as she goes in to straddle your lap while her hands now work on taking off your belt from your own jeans, giving you a little wink during the process.

After what feels an eternity (Or maybe that girl is really into strip teasing you) your cock is finally released from your pants, standing long and hard in front of her eyes, “Not bad…not bad” she quietly mutters as she hops off your lap and kneels in front of you, “you mind if i…” she asks.

“Uh…sure?” you are a bit surprised that a hooker asks you in the first place considering how she didn't ask for your opinion when she straddled you and took your pants off, but regardless she laughs at your response while she lowers herself toward you.

However you didn't expect her to grab her tits with both hands and let them envelope around your member, her eyes lock into yours with a big grin as she begins her work, rubbing her chest up and down on your cock, each up causes her tits to fully hide your tip while each down she lightly slams her chest onto your thighs while her lips lean in closer giving your mow exposed tip a small kiss, sending tingles to your brain that make your moans to grow larger in response.

“Oh i love how you are so nearvous, it's adorable” she says, eyes still on you meanwhile you are looking at the ceiling, “And how you are so hard for me even though i am just getting started” she adds, try to look down at her but your vision is now blurry from the amount of pleasure you receive from her

“Nngh” is the only thing you manage to mutter as the rest of your attempted sounds turn into unintelligible moans, meanwhile your hands hold the fabric of the sofa you are on, each movement of hers drives you insane while she can't help but giggle.

“I can't wait for you to release all of that cum in there all over my tits, just let yourself loose while i will drain you from all of that cum” Her dirty talk is deadly while her pace is getting quicker and her smile grows wider at each rock

“Yes yes yes, come on i can feel it on your balls, release it, you know you want it,~”

And that's the final blow for you and as an expert at her job she knows it, so just as you are about to cum she lets her lips latch themselves into your tip and as strings of cum flows into her mouth you could feel yourself getting relieved by the second.

Finally she releases her mouth from you while she rises up from the position, “Oh wow, that was… *sigh* surprisingly fun” she says, catching her breath while she cleans some leftover cum from her face and tits, some of it she takes with two fingers and puts inside her mouth while she beams a smile at you with a confident wink

Look at the time, you could swear that an eternity passed from the moment she started pleasuring you but in reality it's only been 15 minutes, and it seems those 15 minutes were not enough for her.

“So… I have some time left before my next customer and usually I would have kicked you out to get ready but…” she stops, giving you time to finally gain your composure and look at her again, now taking her hands work on taking her denim skirt and hot pink panties off her body, now leaving herself fully naked in front of you.

“Since you are kinda cute and VERY big, I don't mind having some more fun, so what do you say?”

She asks, once again she straddles your lap but this time her back is facing toward you leaving her ass in full display in front of you only centimetres away from your cock getting inside, meanwhile both her hands grab yours, taking them toward body as she leaves each of you palm at her naked chest as by instinct you let your hands grab each tit.

“Ready for the real fun?” She looks back, another wink coming at you as it seems almost aphrodisiac how her winks get your member hard again.

=================================

Posted at July 14th, 2024

[rebeccathenaturalist]

Let's start the week with a bit of good news! A court order has halted the Bureau of Land Management's plan to log old-growth forests. To be honest, it's mind-boggling that we even got to this point, because the justification was "let's cut down trees to prevent wildfires".

So, here's the thing. Logging companies are among the entities promoting the myth that we need to cut down lots of trees in order to prevent wildfires. It's really just an excuse to harvest old trees for timber, and it completely ignores the science behind wildfires and fire mitigation.

For one thing, logging increases the chance of wildfire. Clearcutting takes away the largest chunks of wood (tree trunks) while leaving piles of branches, twigs, and dried conifer needles. These are known as fine fuels, and they are much more likely to catch on fire. Moreover, since all the plants around the trees were bulldozed before the trees were cut, the soil is now bare and less able to hold water. Because the ambient humidity in the clearcut is much lower than in a healthy forest, the debris and the plants that do begin to grow back are much more vulnerable to dying from drought--and catching on fire.

The same goes for salvage logging, when logging companies go into a burned area to take out trees that are not so burned that they can't be used for lumber. Again they leave behind fine fuels which are more likely to cause reburn--a second fire within a few years of the first. (This is to say nothing of the increased chance of landslides as the unprotected soil washes downhill, and the cumulative loss of topsoil that makes it harder for a forest to recover post-clearcut.)

The very last thing you want to do if you want to avoid wildfire is to cut down old growth forests. Because an old growth forest is so dense with living plant growth, the ambient humidity is quite high. The vegetation helps keep the soil damp, too, which protects the forest from drought. All of this protects the forest from wildfire and makes it am important barrier if fire comes through the area.

If you want to prevent wildfire, you don't cut down the big, more fire-resistant trees or the old-growth forests that are less likely to burn. (You also don't rake the forest floor, just sayin'.) Prescribed burns are one of the best antidotes to wildfire; over a century of fire suppression means that the natural fire cycles in western forests haven't been able to regularly clear out built-up biomass, which has contributed to larger, hotter, more frequent wildfires. By using prescribed burns to carefully remove that biomass, we remove the buildup and allow the forest to benefit from an approximation of its natural fire cycles (many plant species rely on fire for seed propagation and other functions.)

Clearcuts also need to be replaced with more sustainable forestry practices like selective cutting which minimizes impacts on the ecosystem. Forests should contain trees of a variety of species and ages, rather than a plantation of one species all the same age, which is more vulnerable to widespread disease and tree mortality. If all the trees are younger, they are also much more likely to burn together as there are no older trees with thicker bark to slow down the spread of fire. In short: the healthier and more biodiverse a forest is, the more fire-resistant it will be.

All of which is to say that this court order is a victory in our fight against increasingly long and destructive wildfire seasons. The claims that we need to cut trees to prevent fires are not built on science (conversely, I am happy to send anyone the bibliography for my wildfire class that I teach for multiple community colleges and other entities.) Timber companies have been eyeing our last old growth and mature forests for decades in order to make a short-term profit, but we stand to benefit for a much longer time by leaving these forests intact and allowing other forests to mature over time as well.

[baronessvonglitter]

Guessing Game

stepdad!Javier Pena x fem!Reader | wc: 2.8K

Summary: Your stepfather is a DEA agent. When he finds drugs in your room you have to find a way to keep yourself out of trouble.

WARNINGS: 18+ Only! Explicit. Step-cest (if that's an ick for you please do not read - you are responsible for the content you consume 🖤). Age gap (reader is early twenties, Javi is mid-to-late forties). Reader wears makeup and a dress and has hair long enough to get in her face. Cocaine use. Sexual proposition/exploitation. Dub con. (Reader is high during the act.) Oral (m receiving). Drug use during oral. Come swallowing. Fingering. *Spanish terms at the bottom. If I've missed anything please lmk!

Author's note: Big thanks to those of you who asked about this when it was just a baby wip -- now it's fully grown and I so appreciate the support! 💜

JAVIER PENA MASTERLIST | FULL MASTERLIST

"Please tell me you're coming out tonight."

You pause a moment before answering your friend Gabi, switching your phone to your other ear as you check your reflection in the mirror. You apply dark burgundy lipstick to your bottom lip: Guessing Game by MAC, and top it with a swipe of clear gloss.

"I'll be there. You can bet your tits on that," you tell her with a smirk before you end the call.

Sure, you're technically still in trouble for staying out all night the past weekend. That's the thing that sucks about  commuting to college instead of moving out-- having to stay under your mom's roof and adhere to her rules.

Not just her rules, oh no. Your new stepfather is a hard-ass too, and a DEA agent on top of that. Javier Peña's over half your age and a stickler for rules. He's down your throat any chance he gets when you talk back to your mom or do anything that he finds disrespectful. 

It's stressful having to walk such a thin line. You deserve to go out tonight and show off the slinky, short black dress you're secretly borrowing from your mom's closet. It's not like she wears stuff like this anymore. She won't miss it for one night.

Almost ready to go, you do a last minute checklist. The only thing missing from your purse is your baggie. 

Shit! Where is it? You check your usual hiding place but find nothing. Your stomach swirls with unease.

"Looking for this?"

You turn to the sound of the deep voice coming from your doorway. There stands Javier, big bad DEA stepdad, holding your baggie of coke between thumb and forefinger.

"That's not mine," you automatically deny. 

"Bullshit," he mutters, stepping into the room. "I found it in here earlier. You want to tell me what you're doing with cocaine, chiquita?"

"Like I said, it's not mine," you insist. Deny, deny, deny. 

"How stupid do you think I am, huh? Just be damn glad I found it and not your mother. She'd kick your ass out on the streets for having this." The offending white powder in its baggie looks tiny in his large hand.

"Did I interrupt your big plans tonight?" he asks smoothly, shutting your bedroom door behind him. "Were you gonna go out and party, do a few lines, let some pendejo fuck you up the ass?"

"Javi!" You instinctively cover yourself as his eyes linger over your figure in that short, tight dress.

He comes around the bed, towering over you as you sit on the edge. Still in his suit and tie and his hair still in its neat, swept-to-the-side style, you imagine he must have just gotten off work. His dark eyes challenge you to do one more thing to piss him off. Despite the severe disdain you hold for one another, in the back of your mind you've always wanted to fuck him. Him being alone with you in your room, that dangerous, pissed-off look in his eyes only serves to make you wet. 

"You should know better," he says. "I can't have a fucking druggie for a stepdaughter."

"I'm sorry," you mumble. "But you shouldn't be going through my shit anyway."

"That's not a fucking apology, cariño," he gripes. "When you say 'sorry, but' that means you're not truly fucking sorry."

"You're giving me a fucking semantics lesson now?"

"Don't fucking talk back to me," he growls. "I'm not your mom, I'll beat your ass."

"You wouldn't dare!"

"Keep it down, she's asleep in the next room."

It's late and by now your mom's taken her sleeping pill. You'd counted on her staying practically unconscious as you snuck out. Until Javi came along. You don't know what his plot is but the fact that he's here in your room with the door closed and it's half past midnight gives you a feeling that he wants something he shouldn't be asking for.

"Just.. give it back to me. I'll flush it, I promise."

A dark chuckle leaves his throat and sends a chill up your spine. He holds the baggie out and flicks it with his finger. "Who's your plug, baby? Give me that much. Possession with intent to distribute is a worse crime than just possession. You could get off with just a slap on the wrist if you just give me a name."

"I'm not telling you shit.."

"That stubborn, eh, princesita?" He smirks at even you have to admit he's a little handsome when he looks at you like that. But you still fucking hate him. You make a low sound in your throat, akin to a growl.

“You got something in your throat, chica?”

“No.. but I’d like to..”

His gaze darkens as he looks down at you, that barely-there dress leaving so little to the imagination. He recognizes it from his wife's closet, the very same dress she wore when they went on their first date. And now it fits you like a second skin. "Careful, chica. You might be an adult under the law, but you have no idea what the real fucking world is like."

"What are you gonna do, turn me in?" you challenge him.

"Maybe we can come to a compromise," he says, his gaze on your wet, glossy, darkened lips. "I'll keep quiet about the drugs if you do something for me."

"Like what?" You lean back on the bed, acting bored with the conversation though you're secretly glad he's about to let you off the hook.

"You're a smart girl. Use your imagination."

You separate your gaze from his, traveling down to the prominent bulge in his trousers.

"You're disgusting, you know that? Exploiting your own stepdaughter like that.."

He shrugs. "I have no problem bringing you in for this. It's a shame, though. You're a bright kid, you have your whole future ahead of you. You gonna let a little cocaina put an end to all that?"

"Fuck you," you mutter, sitting up. What does it matter anyway? It's just a dick. Not like you haven't sucked a few in your time. "Fine. I fucking blow you and you don't tell anyone about the coke, okay?"

A little smile curls his lips upward. "Deal, princesita."

He puts the baggie on the nightstand where you can't reach it and turns to you, hands on his hips. You realize he's waiting for you to start. 

Smart guy, having you make the first move so it's not on him later. "Nobody knows about this, either," you demand, your fingers hovering just over his belt buckle.

His breath hitches before answering, excitement hidden in his voice. "Just between us."

You feel your heartbeat in your throat as you undo his belt and pants, letting them fall to the floor. He's wearing white briefs, though you know him to typically go commando when he's not working.

"That's it, bebita linda," he coos as you free him from his underwear. His thick erection curves upward, slapping his belly as it swells and rises. Your mouth waters just feasting your eyes upon it.

"Ain't got all night," he grumbles.

"So fucking impatient," you grumble back, wrapping your hand around his hefty cock. It's bigger than any you've ever had, already weeping from the tip. Without hesitation you lick up the salty precum, delighting in the way his breath catches in his throat.

"It's not gonna suck itself," he grunts, putting his hand on the back of your head and pushing you towards him. "C'mon, baby, wanna see that pretty lipstick ruined and slopped all over my cock. The deal doesn't count if you're just gonna give it kitten licks."

Grabbing the base in one hand you slide the tip between your lips. Already it feels like too much, but you're not going to let him think he's got the best of you. 

"Open wide, baby, I know you can suck a cock better than that."

Forcing back an exasperated sigh you practically unhinge your jaw to get your whole mouth around him, his fat cockhead hitting the back of your throat, making you gag. Javi laughs as you pull away.

"You a fucking amateur, mia linda?" he chuckles. "Or am I just too big for that bratty mouth?"

"Fuck you."

He grabs you by the chin and forces you to look up at him. Your eyes are big, wide, a hint of fear there mixed with desire. "Be good for me. Or do you need something more to keep you sweet?"

He reaches for the baggie and scoops out a small amount, making a nice line on the top of his cock. 

"C'mon, do a line for me, sugar." He brings your head down and immediately you snort the white powder off his dick.

"There you go.. putting those vices to good use for once. Now maybe you'll suck my cock like the proper little slut you are."

You're still sniffling up the remnants of the coke when he shoves himself inside your mouth again, the bitter taste of the drug mixing with the salty taste of his flesh. 

"Relax your throat," he commands. "I can't believe I have to tell you how to suck a cock," he tsk-tsks.

Your eyes are brimming over with tears as you take him deep inside your throat. He stays there, guiding your movements with his hands on the back of your head. You start to breathe through your nose as your airway gets stuffed full of Javi's throbbing dick.

"Just look at that pretty mouth, pretty purple lips spread open wide around my cock," he whispers. "That's right, baby, get my cock all messy with your lipstick."

He lets you pull away from him to catch your breath before pushing back in, thrusting into your mouth. Whether you like it or not, saliva fills your mouth, making the slide in easier. If he knew your pussy was getting just as wet right now he'd take full advantage.

By now the coke is taking effect, making your heart flutter, and your pleasure receptors are buzzing off the charts. If you were only a reluctant participant before, you're voracious now. You put all your effort into blowing Javier, eager for his moans and sharp curses, even when he pulls out and taps your cheek with his dick you can't help but giggle, seeking him out with your tongue so you can drag it along his length.

Soon you're getting into a rhythm, following his lead as he thrusts into your mouth, pulling you away, only to push in again, stuffing you full and deep as he grabs your hair. Your mascara runs down your face, black streaks down your cheeks, lipstick smeared, Javi's dick now a strange purple.

He likes watching his whole member disappearing inside you, excited by the way you're learning to take him. He stops playing nice and stuffs himself down your throat, shoving himself deep and thrusting shallowly while your arms flail in a vain attempt to push away from him.

"Nuh-uh.. we agreed. I can just take you in right now, all wrecked and ruined. I can already see the mugshot. Bet your mama would be so proud," he says sarcastically.

"Fuck you," you manage to say, lips swollen, saliva running down your chin and neck.

"Hey, that's not very ladylike. Then again, you're not much of a lady, are you? Now suck."

He thrusts inside you again, even though you gag on him, tasting the bitterness of your own bile creeping up your gullet.

"If you puke on me I'll just keep going. You think I'm worried about a little vomit?"

You force down the remnants of your dinner from earlier, simultaneously bringing him deeper into your mouth.

"Lift up that dress for me, want you to play with your pussy while you're sucking me off," he says, stuffing your mouth full with more of him.

You do as he says, picking up the hem of the dress over your hips and sticking your hand under your black lace thong. You're drenched and Javier can see it, smell your arousal as it fragrances the air between you. He's never smelled a sweeter pussy. 

"That's right, circle that pretty little clit for me, mamacita," he grunts, exiting your mouth to pull back and watch you for a little, a long thick string of saliva connecting between your lips and his dick. You look totally wrecked and he's not even done yet.

You work on yourself, pressing your clit, your little gasps fueling Javier's need. "There you go, drive yourself crazy for me," he says.

You dip your fingers inside your warm cunt, closing your eyes as you seek out the relief from the heat building between your thighs. "Nu-uh, baby, eyes on me," he purrs slipping back in, thrusting deep and slow, watching you, feeling how good it is when you moan around his dick.

"Perfect, fucking perfect," he moans when you deep throat him again, your tongue peeking out to lick his balls. "Fuck," he says, tightening the grip he has on your hair. "Freaky mamacita, aren't you? Done this before, haven't you? To a lot of guys, I bet."

You whimper around his dick, pulling away to get some air. You finger yourself into a frenzy and start to come. "Not yet," Javier growls, pulling you back onto his slobber-coated cock. "You gotta earn it if you wanna come," he tells you.

You whine about it but the energetic buzz the coke has given you is still at work, putting extra effort into sucking off your stepdad, a renewed energy and vigor to your mouth sucking his cock. 

"Damn, cariño.. you really want your bad little habit kept secret, huh?" Javier pants, head thrown back as you sloppily suck him off. "Fuck, fuck, I'm gonna come.. gonna spray that sarcastic little bitchy mouth with my cum.. you ready?"

He doesn't wait for an answer, slamming into your mouth with urgency, not a care for your comfort until he bursts in your mouth and you have no choice but to taste the hot saltiness of his release.

He pulls out slowly, and when you try to spit out his release he shoves it back in with his fingers, effectively gagging you in the process. "Swallow," he commands, and you do so obediently just as his other hand finds its way to your core. 

He curls his fingers into the waistband, pulling the thong up, rubbing the material against your wanting and willing core, rubbing hard against your clit. It's pleasure bordering on pain.

"Fucking hell, look how soaked you are," he coos. He watches the way your stringy slick clings to the lace of your thong. "You got all wet sucking me off, didn't you? Dirty girl. Muy sucia." He rubs the pad of his thumb over your exposed clit and smirks when you start panting like a dog in heat, thighs open to him, head thrown back, your hair sticking to the mess of saliva and lip gloss on your mouth and chin.

"There it is.. just what you wanted, huh? What you think about every time you look at me. You dream about my cock in your mouth and my fingers in your cunt, just like this.." He delves two thick digits into your wetness while stroking your clit and it's embarrassing how quickly you come on his fingers, your core quivering around him, expelling more fluid, coating his hand.

"That's it," he says gently, staying inside you until the little aftershocks are complete and your body is utterly spent. Your mouth tastes like his cum and the lingering bitterness of the cocaine is at the back of your throat. Despite your orgasm being over your heart is still jackhammering away. The high of both the drug and the orgasm combine to leave you teetering on the edge of sanity.

"Drugged out and fucked out," Javier mutters, watching you as he removes his fingers. He lets out a small noise of approval, his thumb gently tracing along your lip and the edge of your tongue for a moment before slowly sliding it inside your mouth. “Taste yourself, princesa.”

You make a little sound of pleasure, swirling your tongue along his thumb, your gaze on him.

His free hand moves to tangle in your hair to keep your head still as he slowly pulls his thumb out of your mouth, a thin string of saliva connecting his finger to your tongue as he looks down at you with half lidded eyes. "God, you look so good down there, cariño." 

Then he pushes you back on the bed. "Such a fucking mess," he mutters, tucking his cock back in his briefs and doing up his pants again. "Go clean yourself up. And no more fucking coke, got it?" he growls as he leaves, taking the baggie with him.

"We're square now, bebita," he says, giving one last look to your prone form, your skin flushed and sweaty, legs splayed out like a true coke whore. "But if I ever catch you doing something like this again, I'll do more than fuck that sweet little mouth of yours."

*chiquita ~ little girl | pendejo ~ idiot | carino ~ dear | princesita ~ little princess | chica ~ girl | cocaina ~ cocaine | bebita linda ~ pretty baby | mamacita ~ gorgeous/hottie | muy sucia ~ very dirty

dividers by @sweetmelodygraphics 👑

taglist: @myownwholewildworld @milla-frenchy @604to647

@vichons @itwasntimethatdidit40 @probablyreadinsmut

@drewharrisonwriter @joelmillerisapunk @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog

@everybodylovedcontractors @almostfoxglove @cxrsed-angel

@ohlookitspaperpixel @victorian-cherub @sawymredfox

@friendly-neighborhood-boricua @notgoingtomalta @darling-stevie

@letsgobarbs @devineconjuring

[birthanon]

Exam in, Baby out

Answering this ask that came through my messages from @yaiofanficbombon2022: 

"The class president is in labour (Mpreg). He had a sexual encounter with the popular boy of the school and as a result of this encounter he is pregnant.

His water breaks at home at night, he wants to miss school, but he can't, so he goes to class anyway.

The contractions are intense and constant, and the baby tries to come out, but he refuses to push until the exam is over.

He ends up giving birth in the school bathroom."

I’ve aged them up to a very high school like college because even 18 yo high school students feel too young to me. Hopefully you don’t mind.

This fic contains: mpreg, birth denial, pushing baby back in, clothing birth

“Hey, pres, you all right?” Jason asked, coming to sit next to Max. 

Max grunted, forcing a smile for the man who was rather popular with the other people at their very small church owned college they both attended, and also the father of the child that was currently trying to expel itself from Max’s womb. They’d had a secret encounter in Jason’s dorm room after a particularly intense study session—and well, they hadn’t repeated said occurrences since then, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t be friendly. “Fine,” Max managed as the contraction that had been wrapping its way around his belly finally eased off. “Just worried about this exam.”

Specifically, he was worried about passing the final exam of his health class while also managing to keep the kid in him, you know, in him. Particularly since his water had broken last night, and he hadn’t gotten a whole bunch of sleep between the increasingly intense contractions. This was his last final of the semester, though, he just had to pass this test, or at least make it through it, and he was home free. So he’d hobbled his way to class from his dorms. It wouldn’t do for the student president to just not show up to an exam.

“You’re the smart one,” Jason said with a smile. “I’m sure you’ll do fine. Only it doesn’t look like you slept at all.”

“Stayed up all night studying.”

“For health?” Jason asked. “Look man, I know you’re a perfectionist and all that, but no one cares what grade you get in this class. All you gotta do is pass. It’s not worth killing yourself over.”

Max tried to formulate a nonchalant shrug. “Gotta keep that scholarshi—mmmhg.” Another contraction cut him off. He wrapped his fingers around the bottom of the desk and forced all his pain and the screaming desire to push into them instead of downward. Still the contractions were getting insistent. The force of his body pressed the baby’s head against his lips, which began to spread and sting. As soon as the contraction ended, the head slipped back inside, the stinging easing. Still, that wasn’t a good sign. The two hour exam hadn’t even started and the baby was already sitting right behind his lips. 

Jason stared. “Man, you sure you’re good?”

“I’ll survive,” Max said, trying to sound sardonic, though his breathlessness gave him away. Jason didn’t know Max was pregnant. No one did. He’d carried small, and Max was good at hiding his body in shapewear and too big hoodies. If anyone did find out, he’d definitely lose his scholarship, and probably get kicked right out of the school. It had very strict rules about sex outside of marriage, and babies don’t just happen.

Max was saved from further questions from Jason by the professor entering the room and beginning to pass out a massive pile of paper that was the final exam. “You will have one and half hours to do the question and answer portion of the exam,” the professor explained. “Then I will show a video of a live birth. As the university wants you to know how to give birth at home, with prayer and without medical intervention as God intended. You all must know how to give birth. After watching the birth video, you will be required to write a paper discussing what they did correctly and what they could have done better. Understood?”

The class nodded.

“All right then, you may begin. You have an hour and a half.”

Max reached out for the packet, grabbing his pencil and his scantron, eager to go as quickly as possible and get this over with. Two questions in, and his stomach was seizing again. Freed from Jason’s questioning gaze, Max wrapped his hand around his stomach to try and soothe it, feeling it shrink underneath the shapewear he wore. He tried not to push, focusing on breathing deeply and slowly through the pain, but the searing stretch of his nethers continued throughout the contraction nonetheless. 

According to his studies, contractions lasted about 60-90 seconds, so Max counted out the seconds in his head, one hand wrapped tight around his stomach, the other clutching his fragile wooden pencil dangerously tightly.

As soon as the contraction began to ease and the stinging stopped as the baby returned to its place just outside his lips, Max continued with the test. His contractions were coming every two minutes, lasting about a minute. Which means while the rest of his class had an hour and a half to complete the test, he only had an hour. 

The words swum in front of him and he leaned forward to get a better view of the words, curling around his stomach and triggering another contraction. Sitting forward as he was, the hard plastic chair pressed against his lips. Which gave him an idea. Experimentally, he pushed with the urge instead of trying to hold back, grunting softly as he did. The head spread him open, shooting through his stretching lips, and then stopped moving as it struck the chair. Max whined, softly, tapping out of the push early. Except this time, the head didn’t go all the way back in, it stayed at that partial crown, stretching his lips. 

Stealthily, he reached down under his desk and explored the area between his spread legs. A massive bulge of straining jeans was wedged between them, pressed up against the chair.

Max let out a shuddering breath. All right, he thought, as long as I can stay sitting down, we can keep the baby in. And thus the test stretched on, in increments of three minutes, two of answering questions, one of pushing fruitlessly into the hard plastic chair, his wet jeans bagging out with the emerging head. 

Some of the questions were about health, but a lot were about sexual health and reproduction. Labeling the different parts of the birther’s anatomy felt particularly ironic when Max could feel the stretch of so many of them, the diagram a visual reminder of how small everything had been before a baby had been shoved through it.

Another question asked which sex position was most likely to result in successful reproduction, which had him flashback to his room, with Jason leaning over him, his warm chest on Max’s. It brought a blush to his cheeks which led Max to lift his head and glance over at Jason.

Jason had been looking back, his brows wrinkled in concern, but when he caught Max looking, the face changed to a forced smile and a hidden lewd hand symbol. Maybe the test was bringing up memories for him too.

Their moment was broken by another contraction. Max forced his head down, as though he was working on his test, leaning as far forward as he could, his stomach pressing against the bottom of the desk, his crotch against the seat to keep the baby in as his whole body pushed down.

The pain was just letting up when the teacher called for their attention, and put on the birthing video. A woman moaning, crouching, her husband supporting her from behind, praying. Her stomach visibly contracted as Max’s own pain returned. Their contractions had synced up, but while she was naked and pushing freely, he was covered in clothes, unable to push or make progress. Her grunts of effort and cries of pain masked his own moans.

The voice of the camera-person ordered the woman, “Push! Push!”

And having sat at a partial crown for an hour and half, Max couldn’t help but obey, pushing in sync with the woman on screen. He leaned back instinctively, lost in the grasp of instinct. He and the woman pushed, and pushed. The babys’ heads emerged slowly, fighting to stretch out the body and, in Max’s case, force the jeans out of the way.

The woman screamed as her head reached a full crown, losing her crouch and falling backwards, caught by her husband. Max’s own softer exhalation, as his own crown, freed from the confines of the chair, reached its own crown.

The next few pushes were unfruitful. The baby’s head bobbed in the woman’s crotch as Max’s own baby fought against his tight jean crotch and lost. He wasn’t trying to hold back anymore, wasn’t thinking consciously, only knew he needed to push.

Then the head on screen gushed out, followed by the rest of the body in rapid succession, but Max’s was still stuck, no matter how he pushed and grunted. The screen went black. 

“You have twenty minutes to write your essays.”

Max panted, realizing his situation. His hand explored downward, gasping at how large the bulge was, his legs spread apart, his lips screaming in pain, stretched to their fullest, his whole body soaked in sweat.

He could not write, could not focus on writing, but he had to. So, ever so slowly he leaned forward. The head of the baby caught on the chair, then began to be shoved up inside him once more. Max shoved his pencil in his mouth, biting down hard to hold back the scream that threatened to bubble in his throat at the pure agony. 

Another, harsher contraction came, but he weathered it, biting his pencil and pressing himself down against the chair. It faded, and he tried to write. The next contraction was just as bad. His weakened pencil snapped his hand. He whimpered as the head began to emerge once more, stretching him little by little. 

It didn’t seem like he had two minutes of leeway anymore, no matter what their professor had taught. The contractions didn’t seem to end. It hurt so much. He was so sweaty, so confined. The baby was coming out again. He didn’t have the energy to push it against the chair. It was stretching his lips, so wide.

“Time!” The professor called. “Pencils down.”

Max’s pencil was in pieces before him, his essay a mess, his multiple choice portion, not quite complete. But he didn’t care. He had to give birth. He had to get out of there.

The old professor toddled around, collecting tests as Max tried to look normal after having been in active labor for fourteen hours and actively crowning for two. 

He’d had a plan, take the test, go home, give birth in his empty apartment. But as the baby reached a full crown once more, Max knew that wasn’t happening. He would at least make it to the bathroom. It was on the first floor. Max planned his route as the professor said his final goodbyes, and then, finally, finally, fifteen minutes after the test ended, released them. 

Max stayed where he was, unsure how to stand as the rest of the students burst out of the room. Another student stayed and talked to Jason, pulling his attention away from Max.

Now, Max thought. He awkwardly turned in his seat, and removed his hoodie. It revealed his very low belly, curved and sweat-soaked, but he used it to tie around his waist, hiding the massive bulge in his crotch. Then, oh so gently, he leveraged himself to his feet.

Gravity shifted, his jeans loosened a bit, and the baby dropped down just a bit further, the head stretching him wider than he thought possible. Max gasped and swayed, catching himself on his desk. Jason glanced over, clearly concerned, but his conversation partners drew him back in.

Free. Max began to waddle, slowly, awkwardly, out of the classroom. Each step was agony, his jeans jostling the fully crowned head in his pants in and out just a smidge. His exhausted legs trembled, and he kept one hand on the wall to keep himself upright. The stairs were right next to the classroom, the elevator was on the other side of the building. He could either walk the entirety twice (to reach the elevator and then walk all the way back to the bathroom at the base of the stairs), or go down the stairs. He chose the stairs.

He went down two before he realized it was an awful idea. He clung to the railing, his legs forcefully spread around the head, which brushed his thighs each time he maneuvered himself awkwardly down the stairs like a new-born deer.

Finally, red faced, panting, exhausted, he reached the bottom of the stairs and practically fell into the door of the men’s bathroom. A guy at the urinal gave him a look.

“Really gotta. . . go,”  Max panted, then stumbled into the stall and locked the door. He reached immediately for his jeans. His shaking hands fumbled with the belt. As the contraction struck, he crouched naturally, spreading his legs wider, but that only forced the jeans up tighter against his opening, forcing the head further in. 

Finally, the belt gave way, and he began forcing the jeans down. They got caught on his hips. He needed to move his legs together, but another contraction hit, and the baby descended further, its nose stretching him and popping out. The head was touching his thighs. He couldn’t spread his legs further to give it more room with his jeans, he couldn’t get rid of the jeans because of the head.

He was stuck.

Mind frozen with fear and exhaustion, he weathered out several contractions, pushing as hard as he could. But the baby didn’t move. It was stuck. The jeans had to go, but that meant. . . 

He heard speaking over the roar of his ears, but couldn’t make out the words. It was definitely Jason.

But Max could spare him no thought. The baby had to come out. Quivering, Max placed his hand on his baby’s head, feeling its wet hair. He took one deep breath, trying to get oxygen in his panic, then began to push the baby up and back it. 

It was agony. He screamed in pain. The baby kicked in protest. His stomach contracted. In the chaos, he lost his balance, falling to his knees, striking his elbow on the side of the tiny stall. 

Jason was pounding on the stall door. 

Max couldn’t talk to him, couldn’t do anything but give birth. He shucked off his jeans and boxers, spread his legs, and pushed.

The much denied baby shot out, to its ears and Max cried out again. The contraction faded, and he could hear Jason now, asking if Max was okay.

“I’ve cleared the bathroom and put a sign out saying its closed. Tell me what's going on, or I’ll call 911.”

Well, Max would need help getting out of here. And it was just as much Jason’s secret as it was his. With a shaking hand, he reached up and undid the latch, just in time for the next contraction to hit. He pushed, and the baby’s head shot out of him just as Jason flung open the door.

“Holy crap!”

Max gasped, leaning against the toilet, spreading his legs just a bit further. The dirty bathroom tile was cold. It felt good. The baby was turning inside him.

“Is that mine?” Jason asked. That health class did something for him after all.

Max could only nod. 

“Shit. Why didn’t you tell me?”

Max didn’t have the breath for explanations. “Wanted you safe,” he gasped. “If I was. . . if they did. . .”

Another contraction. He pushed, weakly. The head bobbed forward, but didn’t move. God, he was exhausted.

Jason knelt down beside Max, his health class training coming into play. “How long have you been in labor?”

“Water broke—nngghh—last night.” The head still didn’t move. He was so tired.

“Last night!”

“Head crowned. . . just. . . just before the—” Another contraction. Max pushed with the pain as hard as he could, but the head wasn’t moving.

“Shit, man.”

Another contraction. No progress. Something was catching on his narrow hips. His body wasn’t made for birthing the way a woman’s was. “I think, I think it’s stuck.”

“I got you, give me a moment.” Then Jason left, leaving Max alone, spread wide and bare, a baby head between his legs, on a dirty bathroom floor. He flopped his head back, resting it on the toilet seat. Gross, yeah, but he didn’t have the energy to care any more.

Another fruitless contraction.

Then Jason was back. He crouched down by Max. “this is going to hurt,” he warned. Then he shoved his hand into Max’s crotch alongside the baby’s neck. Max opened his mouth to scream, but no sound came out. He was too tired. The pain was awful, the stretch terrible. Then Jason was fumbling around in there with his whole-ass hand, pulling and tugging. Max’s hips strained. 

Another contraction began, tensing Max’s stomach which was peeking up through his shirt, which had ridden up. 

With the hand that wasn’t currently inside Max, Jason pressed down on Max’s stomach. “Push!” he ordered.

Max pushed. Jason pushed with one hand and pulled with the other. The tension, the pressure built, and built. Max was being torn apart. He was going to die. He was—

Something gave. With a gush, the crying baby shot out into Jason’s waiting hands.

The three of them sat, panting, staring at each other. “I want to raise this baby with you, if you’ll let me,” said Jason. “Only reason I haven’t been with you more is, well, I didn’t want to get us both kicked out. But I think you’re amazing and—”

Max smiled. “You’re pretty good too. Let’s do this.”

[kingdom-of-sins]

hii how do u think the fourth wing boys would react to finding out your dragons are mated? 👀 (pls pls include aaric?)

(I have only read till half of IF so forgive me if something doesn't align with the characters)

Ridoc: You both are first year and this guy has been flirting with you from the moment he saw you cross the parapet. You were a challenge to him and you enjoyed the game as well. You both made a bet that if both of you survive thrashing and bond with dragons there will be some serious celebration which will not involve any clothes. Imagine Ridoc surprised, happy, horny, confused at the same time. That's how he was when you both found out your dragons are mates, and the celebration certainly happened sooner because both your dragons started "celebrating" as well. Ridoc is especially happy about the connection he has with you now...sending "wild" thoughts in the middle of a series class or the continuous mental fighting. He also pouted an entire day when he realized you successfully learned to shield your mind and used it against him, but luckily for him he knows how to get your shield down. Ridoc is also very grateful that his dragon prefers to stay with his mate all the time.

Liam: Okay for this I have an entire scenario in my head. You as the daughter of the king but you hid your identity well and no one in that death hole war college knows who you really are, except for violet. You and Liam have fought each other during training, obviously Liam always winning and ending up on top of you. The subtle flirting and caring could almost go unnoticed, but still enough to make both your hearts crave something more. But you know you have to stay away from the marked ones and can't develop feelings for any of them, maybe that's why you sometimes act rude towards him just when things start to get a little more than a mere friendship. After the threshing, Liam immediately figured out that both your dragons are mate (Xaden helped him). But you couldn't figure out what's going on, and let's just say your dragon has a mischievous side and is enjoying your confusion and frustration. Liam's has suddenly developed an urge to be with you all the time (not really, he felt this way before but the dragons gave him a good reason now). Because of the bond Liam soon found out your true identity, maybe he read your mind or his dragon told him because your dragon can't keep a single secret from his mate. Out of loyalty Liam told Xaden and it became a whole mess. A big fight happen between you and Liam and at that moment both your dragons thought it would be funny to hook up. So all that emotions let to angry hate sex with you and Liam. A marked one and the princess. The hate sex didn't last long and it soon turned into something more passionate and emotional. The next day Liam happily sat next to his dragon as he watch you scold your dragon for getting horny at the worst time possible. You still have a lot to get used to but you don't regret your time with Liam. Liam thinks its the best thing that has happened to him.

Imagine Liam using his signet to watch you when you are a little bit far away. Imagine his love sick smile and everyone is like "what's he smiling about?"

Bodhi: You being a first year and Bodhi a third year. Bodhi was not expecting you to bond with his dragon's mate, especially when everyone knows your dragon has an attitude and is very picky. Bodhi was literally going "no no no" when he was observing the thrashing and his dragon is like "my mate choose well, she is pretty and strong". Up until then Bodhi never really care about you but now suddenly there is this big twist. Imagine you are one of those people who thinks that rules should always be followed, it certainly doesn't work when Bodhi is literally part of the rebellion. So what does Bodhi do? Get you in trouble first which could get you kicked out or worse, and then tell you that your dragons are mates. It's the only idea he can come up with in short time to protect the rebellion and to make sure you don't do blabbing away, not that you were ever going to because even though you follow rules you know what is wrong and what is right. Your dragon doesn't like Bodhi much but tolerate him because of his mate. Bodhi's dragon however adore you. When your dragon started mating you stay away far away from Bodhi, maybe even seek the comfort of another and lets just say Bodhi has a hard time hiding his jealousy, especially when his own dragon is also jealous on his behalf

Garrick: "I am fucked" That's the words that came out of Garrick's mouth when he realized you bonded with his dragon's mate. And why he reacted that way? Because you two hooked up shortly after you started your first year and he ended things because you caught feelings and he didn't, at least that's what he believe. Now it didn't take you long to move on (that's what he believes) but he is certain that this new change between you two will make everything more complicated. Garrick trying to explain you the enter thing, mated dragons, him and you never going to happen and all that. He was kind of disappointed when you only replied "cool". He can hear his dragon laughing with its mate about the entire situation. The fact that you are so chill about all this made him even more frustrated and he just keeps lying to himself that the frustration is because your dragons are about to "mate" again, and you are like "then why am i not feeling it?" and just walk away. You will be in hell before you let yourself catch feeling again, and Garrick is terribly regretting not giving you his heart when you first confessed. "I am fucked", and his dragon is like "yes you are and me and my mate are enjoying this". The direct mental link is another thing that has disrupted his entire life when you just simply indifferent to him and flirt and hook up with others. And when you learned to shield your mind Garrick was losing it. He can't even imagine not able to have the constant connection with you, but of course he tried his best to hide it

Dain: Yeah this guy felt like he lost all control when you bonded with his dragon's mate. "is that even possible?" he is in complete disbelief. But he immediately, like second later after the thrashing, got extra protective. Maybe you two knew each other from childhood, maybe you two were friends, or maybe you were never able to tolerate him. But now your life is tied to him in the most annoying dramatic way. Instead of trying to teach you to protect yourself and fight Dain is like "maybe you and your dragon should sit this one out", and like hell you are going to listen to him. It's an endless cycle of you getting on Dain's nerve and Dani getting on your nerves while both your dragons are hopelessly cheesy romantic. But like imagine Dain slowly realizing he can't always ask you to step back and not like you ever listen so he trains you. You are not happy but accept his offer. "but if you touch me without gloves i will chop you hands into tiny tiny pieces, fry them in hot oil and feed it to my dragon." Dain just roll his eyes and is like "do you always have to be so violent?"

Aaric: His real identity was revealed to you the day you bonded with your dragon. Aaric was somewhat chill about it but he had to calm you down because you are one of the marked ones and he is the king's son. There may have been some hurtful words from you side but he is just calm and let you work you emotions out. And then came the mind talking thing. "get out of my head" "i didn't even realize i was in...okay okay, i am getting out...i think we are never getting out of this." It's almost unbelievable how fast your friendship developed after this. Sure there is always something more than friendship between you two but you both have mission but Aaric always tell you "I think you will be happier with someone else" and it always confuses you because you have no idea what his signet is

Jack FUCKING Barlowe: Okay but imagine his dragon choose him because you bonded with your dragon first and his dragon is somewhat unhealthily attached to your dragon, just like Jack has an unhealthy infatuation with you. It's not a typical mate thing but there is something and its kind of scary. The type of scary that you always feel in you bones but it send chills but also a strange comfort of knowing he wont hurt you. Jack was grinning like a maniac when he realized his dragon is your dragon's "mate". Since that moment onwards your mind was never safe and you were never alone.

I didn't add Xaden because we already know how he reacts and I don't think i can write something different for him

[sftykth]

milk and cookies ⟢ anakin skywalker i.

banner made by me!

╭ summary: your doll like face will be the end of anakin skywalker he was sure of it. however he must stay away from his disturbing thoughts as he was only your sugar daddy, and you two had agreed on a deal, no physical contact. Though for how long can you both resist the temptation?

╭ pairing: y/n x anakin skywalker

╭ genre: college au!, gap age (y/n is 20, anakin is 42), sugar daddy

╭ a/n: hi everyone! i couldn’t help but make another story as the idea sprung into my head. i would love to hear your feedback on it!:)

Today seemed like God was not on your side.

From the moment you had woken to your alarm not going off, to the precious sweat you had to break for chasing a taxi to meet him. You will admit you might have slept through the alarm this morning but that can't be entirely your fault. Your curious little mind just had to stay up and do research more of the stranger that you will be seeing for the first time today.

Anakin Skywalker. The name that drove you crazy for the past two weeks straight. A very well known man in Coruscant, the front leading man for ruling the state. To say you were quite intimidated by him would be an understatement, however you tried to ease yourself by reminding your little head that he agreed to this.

When you created an account for a sugar daddy website, seeing the man who was known for being cold and ruthless was the last person you expected. You chewed on the inside of your cheek, wondering if you should add him. Handsome wasn't enough to describe this man, he was absolutely divine. The blue piercing eyes had made your breath hitch, you had been aware of his overwhelming looks but seeing it up close still made your knees weak. The sunken smile lines revealed his age and instead of making you feel turned off, it inflamed something deep within you. Creating an account was purely for financial gain, as a broke college student you had listened to your friend and pushed yourself to try it out.

As you sit in the taxi on the way to the little cafe you both had agreed to meet, just on the outskirts of the city. Away from the prying eyes. You reminisce on the first messages you two had exchanged, past you not believing that the day will come were you will meet this man.

April, 2024.

[Sky] Hi.

[Dollface] hey! what's up?!

[Sky] You added me?

[Dollface] um well yea but just a polite thing to say yk..

[Sky] I see. I don't think I have you seen on here before.

[Dollface] come here often huh;)

[Sky] Funny.

[Dollface] sorry. yeah im new here. hoping not to run into no creeps haha

[Sky] Well, one thing I can promise is that I'm not a creep. So dollface, why are you here?

At the moment you were scared by his harsh tone but you grew to embrace it and it only made you tease him harder. Even his texting style made you think about how much older he was, nearly twice your age. Somehow it just didn't concern you that much, you knew that getting into something like this will most likely mean that the men on the website will be much older. You only ever had one boyfriend in your twenty ears, and that was when you were sixteen and he was around the same age. You shook your head at the thought, this man is not going to become your boyfriend. This is a pure transactional relationship, something he made to stress.

Him being a known figure had its advantages to that you were able to get every detail of his life, from a young age he was put into the world of leadership and wealth. Age eighteen he had already won the elections and was announced as the youngest ruler of the state. Married at twenty one to the daughter of the ruler of Naboo, Mr Amidala and having twins just at the pure age of twenty three. You shuddered at the though of having to raise children so young. Though an unexpected divorce at the age of thirty had made you raise your eyebrows, even though you knew of the power couple you were never really into politics, the topic being all too confusing for someone like you. Leaving twelve years of being single, you wondered what caused him to join such website, he didn't reveal much through messages.

"Miss, we are here." You heard the driver speak up, you shook out of your thoughts and thanked him before handing some cash and leaving the car.

You shivered at the cold breeze that swept by you, you tugged your little pink skirt further down. Hoping that warmer days are coming, you hated the cold. Finally, the realization that you will be meeting this man that you have been messaging hit you like a ton of bricks. You gulped, as you peered at the cafe in front of you. Without another thought you rushed through the doors, feeling bad you that you must of have left him waiting. From the research you had done you knew he was a punctual man, always the first one ready for every event.

Scanning the area around you before you spotted the tall figure sat right at the back booth. You didn't even realize he was already staring you down like you had murdered his whole family, speed walking to the table.

"I'm so sorry Mr Skywalker, I slept through my alarm this morning and I didn't realize how long the ride will take." you rambled on, cheeks turning red being under his intense stare.

He hummed and pointed to the seat in front of him, not saying a word yet. Your hands shook slightly at the silence he was giving you, taking the seat he was pointing. Expecting the cold shoulder but still slightly hoping that the messages you had exchanged had encouraged some form of lightheartedness.

"Twenty minutes. That is how long I have been waiting for you. I must say I'm very displeased by this." Were his first words to me, oh that sweet honey voice rolling smoothly of his tongue. You took every word in carefully, gazing up at him you tried not to get too distracted by his good looks.

"I'm sorry... I will do better next time. I promise Mr Skywalker." you mumbled, biting your lip as sudden shyness took over your body.

"Not so bold now are, dollface? I must say the nickname does match the face." he added as he toyed with the coffee cup in his hand. The compliment had made you blush harder, not being able to look into his eyes no more as you shook your head carefully. The way he said the nickname had made your thighs clench together beneath the table, hoping he didn't notice the action. He did.

You were unsure how to reply, not really expecting for him to be so forward, before you could say anything he begins with a "So, are you ready to go through the rules?"

This made you look up. Rules? He was really an organised man afterall. "Yes." You replied, unsure what possible rules he will be giving you but still ready to hear what he wants from you. The intention of why you were on the website in the first place was known to him but you were yet to learn what he wanted from you. He said he would only discuss it in person which encouraged the meeting in the first place.

"Okay good. So as you know already my job requires of me to attend to many different events. Not just around our state but to others as well." He carefully listed, his eyes never leaving yours. Though you were taking every word in carefully, knowing you couldn't afford to anger him. Being late already set you back in your eyes, so you had to try harder to impress him. You scoffed inside, you didn't have to impress him, this is not a date. You had to remind yourself once again.

"My uncle, well he is a very persistent man and as much as I try to push his talks away it seems impossible. He wants me to marry again. This is something I cannot do, but to push those frustrating talks away I thought you could be an actual help here." Furrowing your eyebrows, you added puzzled, "You want to marry me?"

He scoffed at the words. For some reason that made your insides feel weird. You shook your head, this is not a date. You kept repeating in your head. "No, of course not. I meant that you could play a pretend girlfriend or some sort. Only for a while, until he backs off and I can finish off my tasks without having to hear his talks." He answered, taking a sip of his coffee. You licked your lips in response, you felt crazy for finding any action of his so sexy. You had to control yourself.

"I see. So what would be rules I would need to follow?" You asked, still unsure about this whole thing but deep within you knew you wanted to keep seeing this man. Something about him made you question your morals, wanting to do absolutely anything to please him. Once again you had to shake your head at such disturbing thoughts appearing in your head.

"Well firstly, you will and must attend every event that I have scheduled. No matter last minute or not, those events are super important for me and my job. And that way the media will be able to spread the word of their leader in a relationship and my uncle can finally back off. There will be no physical contact between us besides a typical hand hold, and only for such contact to made will be at those events. And for your attendance you will be payed as discussed prior of course." This seemed so easy for him as he spoke, always so professional.

You had to take all the information in, this was such an unusual situation. When your friend said to join the website you were expecting you will have to get some form of sexual interaction but this, this was so different. You can't lie, it was really an amazing deal. Though you cannot lie that the last rule made you slightly disappointing, you didn't know how you will control yourself next to this man and not be able to touch him.

"Deal" You squealed, throat dry from not speaking up for a while. Embarrassment took over you, hoping you didn't draw too much attention to yourself. You saw a slight smirk appear on his handsome face, "That's good, I'm glad." You still couldn't look into his eyes for long before staring at the table, playing with the hems at the end of your skirt.

"It was nice meeting you, dollface. I hope that our next meeting will be with you on time." The comment made your head shot up, face flushed as your doe like eyes stared up him, you saw his adams apple wobble as he swallowed, adjusting his tie he stood up, ready to leave.

"Oh and nice shirt, dollface." Were his last words as he turned away and walked out the doors. Leaving you speechless and embarrassed, you looked down at the shirt and saw you had forgotten in your late process to put a bra on, your white shirt clearly highlighting the hardened nipples from the earlier cold you felt.

You cursed yourself, this is going to be the hardest thing you will have to do. You were sure of it.

— i would love to hear your feedback on it:) and let me know if you like another part to it.

[kakuvibez]

yandere one shot + quotes; Heartslabyul dorm

requested by ; anonymous | @username | none,,

fandom(s); Ever After High, Twisted Wonderland,,

fandom master list(s): master | specific

character(s); Riddle, Trey, Cater, Deuce, Ace, Bunny,,

outline; "Runnn! Bunny!"

warning(s); non-consent photos taking, manipulation, staking, capturing,,

Signature Spell: RABBIT,, [N] can transform into a rabbit at will with this spell. She also has the instincts of a rabbit. Her signature spell allows her to be on time no matter what.

❛❛Now I can't go back to Wonderland...❜❜

❛❛ All of us Wonderlandians stick together❜❜

❛❛ No matter what time I leave, I always show up where I need to be right on time. Maybe I'm just lucky that way...❜❜

"Now I can't go back to Wonderland." [N] murmured, her voice a soft whisper. She had stumbled upon Night Raven College, lost and disoriented, her usual luck failing her for the first time. Her monolid/ prominent/ almond/ downturned/ hooded/ deep-set look toward her new dorm, Heartslabyul.

Heartslabyul, with its vibrant colors and over-the-top decor, was a stark contrast to the muted tones of Wonderland. Yet, something about the dorm, and its inhabitants, drew her in.

Riddle, the Dorm Head, was immediately captivated. [N], with her soft [c] fur, her gentle demeanor, and her uncanny ability to always be on time, regardless of the circumstances, was unlike anything he had ever encountered.

"No matter what time I leave, I always show up where I need to be right on time. Maybe I'm just lucky that way..." she had confessed once, her voice tinged with a hint of wonder. Riddle, however, saw it as a sign. Fate, he believed, had brought her to him.

His initial fascination quickly blossomed into obsession. He found himself drawn to her like a moth to a flame, his every action carefully calculated to keep her close. Trey, ever the gentle giant, tried to warn her, but Riddle's charm and his iron grip on the dorm made it difficult to resist.

Cater, always eager for the next big story, documented their every interaction, his posts garnering an alarming amount of attention. Most of the time it was just her picture of everything, everything. Ace and Deuce, initially amused by Riddle's infatuation love, soon realized the seriousness of the situation. [N], however, remained oblivious, her shy nature preventing her from seeing the warning signs.

Riddle, in his attempts to "protect" her from the perceived dangers of the outside world, began to subtly restrict her movements. He would "accidentally" misplace her belongings, "forget" to inform her of important events, tho it backfired every time due to her signature spell being active, and "coincidentally" appear whenever she tried to venture beyond the dorm.

[N], confused and increasingly uneasy, tried to brush off his overbearing behavior as mere "concern." "All of us Wonderlandians stick together," she would remind herself, clinging to the familiar comfort of Wonderland's unwritten rules.

But Wonderland's rules did not apply here. Riddle, driven by his obsessive desire to possess her, was slowly eroding her sense of self, trapping her in a gilded cage of his own making.

One day, as she was attempting to use her signature spell, RABBIT, to escape the suffocating atmosphere of the dorm, she felt a jolt of pain, her transformation cut short. Riddle, his face a mask of fury, stood before her, his eyes gleaming with a chilling intensity.

"You are not going anywhere, [N]," he hissed, his voice a venomous whisper. "You belong to Heartslabyul."

You were paralyzed with fear, could only watch as Riddle, with a chillingly calm demeanor, began to tighten his grip, his obsession finally manifesting into something truly terrifying.

You could feel the others looking at you. Behind Riddle, there they were.

Riddle Rosehearts:

"You must follow the rules, my dear. If you break them… well, I will have to punish you."

"Why do you keep trying to leave? Do we not take good care of you?"

"A rabbit belongs in its burrow. And you belong here, with us."

Ace Trappola:

"Oh, come on, bunny, don’t look at me like that! We’re just keeping you safe."

"You think you’re fast? Cute. But you’re never gonna be faster than me."

"Just accept it. You’re ours now, whether you like it or not."

Deuce Spade:

"I don’t like forcing you, but… I will if I have to."

"Please stop trying to run. You’ll only get yourself hurt."

"If Riddle says you stay, then you stay. No arguments."

Cater Diamond:

"Aw, don’t be mad, bun-bun! You look way cuter when you smile~"

"You don’t really wanna leave, do you? C’mon, we have so much fun together!"

"Let’s snap another pic of our favorite bunny—oh, don’t pout, you love the attention!"

Trey Clover:

"You should eat something. Running away on an empty stomach isn’t very smart."

"You’re part of the dorm now. That means you have responsibilities—like staying where you belong."

"Trust me, it’s better if you don’t fight it."

No matter how much you try to escape, Heartslabyul is always one step ahead. You’re their little rabbit now—trapped in their never-ending game of tea parties, rules, and twisted affections.

And the scariest part?

THEY LOVE THE CHASE.

[estellan0vella]

Real Victors: B.C Bang Chan x fem!reader (College AU)

WC: 13.3K

CW: Mentions of previous toxic behaviour (from an ex best friend), past abusive behaviour (from an ex best friend), assault (a wrist grab) (from an ex best friend), lots of fluff, awkward, simp Chan

General Masterlist SKZ Masterlist

It's one of those perfect summer days—the kind where the sun sits just right in the sky, casting a warm golden glow over everything. You're perched on the bottom of the bleachers like usual, legs crossed beneath you as you lean against the cool metal railing. Your white summer dress flutters slightly in the breeze, barely reaching mid-thigh. It's airy, comfortable, and pairs well with the hotpants you've slipped on underneath for modesty. You've opted for a casual look today, strappy white wedges on your feet and your signature dangly butterfly earrings swaying gently as you suck on a cherry lollipop.

The cherry flavour stains your lips red as you absentmindedly flip through one of your favourite books, The Book Thief. It's your go-to read when you want to escape into a story that makes you feel a little bit of everything—sadness, hope, love, and pain. You've read it a dozen times by now, but somehow, every time you open its pages, it feels like the first time. Right now, you're lost in the words, only half aware of the distant sounds of shouting and whistles from the football field.

The Miroh Maniacs are practicing again. They always practice during this time of the day, and like clockwork, you've found yourself in your usual spot at the bottom of the bleachers, soaking up the atmosphere while the guys run their drills. It's not that you care much for football itself; honestly, you couldn't be bothered to figure out the rules. But Felix and Jisung are your closest friends, and since they're on the team, you come to watch them as much as you come to enjoy the time you spend alone with your books.

Felix and Jisung are currently stretching near the field, warming up before practice. Jisung's blonde-green hair is tousled from his constant fidgeting, while Felix's sunny smile never falters, even when he's doing something as mundane as touching his toes. You watch them from the corner of your eye, a faint smile tugging at your lips.

"You gonna sit there all day, Y/N?" Felix calls out, his Australian accent laced with mischief. He stands up from his stretch and gives you a wave, his blonde hair catching the sunlight. Jisung follows his gaze and waves too, though his expression is far more playful.

"Just keeping an eye on you two," you tease back, lowering your book slightly. "Wouldn't want you both slacking off while everyone else is running laps."

"Slacking off?" Jisung exclaims, feigning offence. "I'll have you know, I'm the most hardworking player on this field."

Felix snorts and elbows him. "Bullshit. You nap on the bench more than you run."

Jisung shrugs. "Gotta preserve my energy for when it counts."

You chuckle softly and shake your head, returning to your book as they continue their playful bickering. It's a routine by now—Felix and Jisung always find a way to chat with you before practice, and it's become one of the highlights of your day. They bring a sort of lightheartedness that makes everything feel a little less serious, a little more fun.

As you flip another page, you hear the sound of the locker room door swinging open. From your vantage point, you catch a glimpse of Chan, Minho, and Changbin walking out onto the field. They're all decked out in the Miroh Maniacs' black and red uniforms, the bold colours contrasting sharply against the green grass. Chan is at the front, as usual, his short black hair slicked back slightly, though a few strands always fall loose onto his forehead.

But there's something else about him that you can't quite put your finger on. Maybe it's the way he carries himself, or the way he looks at you sometimes when he thinks you're not paying attention. You don't dwell on it too much; it's just part of the strange dynamic between you and the guys on the team.

You lift your hand and wiggle your fingers in greeting as they walk out, your lips curving into a small, lazy smile. "Hey, boys."

Chan's eyes lock onto you the moment you gesture. His easygoing stride falters for just a second, and he sucks in a sharp breath, his cheeks flushing slightly as he tries to keep his composure. You catch it all in your peripheral vision, but you don't comment, assuming it's just Chan being his usual awkward self. That is until he starts coughing like he's choking on air.

Minho, who's walking beside him, doesn't even try to hide his amusement. He slaps Chan's back a few times, shaking his head with a sigh. "Chan, for fuck's sake, you're an embarrassment to us all."

Changbin snickers beside them, crossing his arms over his chest. "Man, get a grip. You're gonna die before practice even starts."

Chan glances at you briefly, his face turning redder by the second. You frown in concern, your body instinctively pushing off the railing as you stand and walk over to where the three of them are standing. The grass feels warm beneath your feet, and you lean slightly against the fence that separates the bleachers from the field, looking down at Chan with a furrowed brow.

"Chan, are you okay?" you ask, your voice soft but filled with genuine worry. You tilt your head, red heart-shaped sunglasses slipping down your nose a little as you peer at him.

Chan, still struggling to get his breathing under control, just stares at you. The sight of you standing there, your white dress fluttering in the breeze, your lips forming his name, has completely short-circuited his brain.

You turn to Changbin, hoping for some clarification. "Is he...?"

Changbin smirks, glancing at Chan before turning back to you. "Oh, he's fine. Just hasn't been drinking enough water, so his brain's a bit fried."

You sigh and cross your arms over your chest. "Chan, you know you should drink more water, right? It's like, basic human survival."

Chan finally manages to nod, though his gaze still lingers on you. "Yeah, um, I'll—I'll do that."

"Good." You give him a small, approving smile before turning back toward Felix and Jisung, who have been watching the whole scene unfold with barely contained laughter.

Minho raises an eyebrow as he watches Chan's stunned reaction. "I swear to God, Chan, if you swoon because the pretty lit student smiled at you, I'm going to kill you."

Chan shoots him a half-hearted glare, still struggling to shake off the embarrassment. "Shut up, Minho."

You catch the tail end of their conversation but decide not to press further. It's Minho being Minho, and he's always teasing someone. With a final glance at the trio, you settle back down at the bleachers, picking up your book where you left off.

As you start reading again, Felix and Jisung jog over during their warm-up break and flop down next to you, both of them drenched in the early sweat of exertion.

"Still reading that same damn book, huh?" Jisung asks, reaching for your lollipop without warning. You smack his hand away with a mock glare.

"Hands off my lollipop, Ji. And yes, The Book Thief is a masterpiece. Don't act like you're not impressed."

Felix leans back, resting his hands behind his head as he watches the players on the field. "I swear, Y/N, you've read that book more times than I've touched a football."

You grin, turning the page lazily. "It's that good."

"Or you just don't wanna admit you're obsessed," Felix teases, nudging your arm lightly.

"I'll admit it. I'm obsessed. But it's a healthy obsession. Unlike whatever it is you two are doing out there with all this... football stuff." You wave a hand vaguely toward the field.

Jisung snorts. "Hey, this 'football stuff' is keeping me in shape, okay? Not all of us can sit on our asses reading books all day."

You raise an eyebrow. "You call lying on the bench napping 'keeping in shape'?"

Felix bursts out laughing, and Jisung pouts, crossing his arms. "I don't nap that much."

"You literally napped for the entire second half of last week's game," Felix points out, still chuckling.

Jisung waves him off. "Whatever. I'm just preserving my energy."

"You keep telling yourself that," you say with a smirk, returning your attention to your book. But the conversation doesn't end there, and the three of you fall into an easy rhythm, bantering back and forth like always.

Meanwhile, on the field, Chan can't seem to keep his eyes off you. It's like every time he tries to focus on the drills, his gaze drifts back to where you're sitting with Felix and Jisung, your head tilted slightly as you laugh at something one of them said. He doesn't even realize how obvious he's being until Minho elbows him in the ribs during a pass.

"Dude, pay attention," Minho mutters under his breath. "You're gonna get tackled if you keep staring like that."

Chan quickly averts his eyes, pretending to be interested in whatever play they're running next. "I wasn't staring."

"Bullshit," Minho snorts, adjusting his jersey. "You've been eye-fucking her for the past ten minutes. Everyone on the field can see it."

Chan shoots him a withering look. "Can you not?"

Changbin sidles up next to them, wiping sweat from his forehead. "Oh, get in line, Chan. Half the college is after her. She's the definition of hot girl summer."

Chan tries to play it cool, shrugging as if the comment doesn't bother him. "I'm not... I mean, it's not like that."

Minho rolls his eyes, clearly unconvinced. "Right. And I'm not the best player on the team."

Changbin snickers. "You wish."

Despite his teammates' teasing, Chan can't help but steal another glance at you. The way your dress hugs your body, the way your hair catches in the wind, and the way you smile at Felix and Jisung so effortlessly makes his chest tighten. But he knows better than to entertain any fantasies. You're friends with most of the guys, and even if you were interested in someone, it probably wouldn't be him. Not when you're already so close to Felix and Jisung.

Still, he can't shake the feeling that there's something special about you. Something that makes his heart race a little faster every time you're around.

Later, during one of their short breaks, Minho makes his way over to you, dripping sweat and looking every bit as smug as he always does. You barely notice him at first, too engrossed in your book, but then you feel the familiar tug of something being pulled from your mouth.

"Hey!" you protest, looking up just in time to see Minho steal the lollipop from between your lips. He smirks at you, twirling it between his fingers before popping it into his mouth without a second thought.

You roll your eyes, completely unbothered by the gesture. "That's the closest you'll ever get to kissing me, Lee Minho."

Minho laughs and pulls the lollipop back out, licking his lips exaggeratedly. "I'll savour all of those kisses forever, my sweet Y/N."

You snort and wave him off. "Okay, loverboy, get lost. You stink of sweat."

Minho leans closer, grinning wickedly. "And you smell like cherries and flowers."

You shrug nonchalantly. "Bought myself a new perfume."

His grin widens. "That perfume is turning me on."

You meet his gaze with a deadpan expression. "Yeah, well, your smell is turning me off. Not that you've ever turned me on."

Minho clutches his chest dramatically as if you've wounded him. "Ouch. Straight to the heart."

Despite his theatrics, you smile fondly and nudge him with your foot. "Go practice, Minho. You're wasting time."

"Fine, fine." He sticks the lollipop back in your mouth before jogging off with a cheeky wave. "I'll be thinking of you."

You roll your eyes again, sucking on the now half-melted candy. It's always like this with Minho, flirty, playful, but ultimately harmless. Everyone on the team knows it's all platonic between the two of you. You'd never date Minho, and he knows it, which makes the banter even more fun.

Felix and Jisung, having witnessed the whole exchange, burst into laughter as soon as Minho is out of earshot.

"You two are so weird," Felix comments, shaking his head.

Jisung grins. "Yeah, but it's entertaining as hell."

You shrug, leaning back against the bleachers with a satisfied smile. "He's just jealous because I'm too good for him."

Felix laughs, pulling a water bottle from his bag. "If you say so."

Jisung nudges you with his elbow, a wide grin spread across his face. "You and Minho really have the weirdest relationship. I swear he flirts with you more than anyone else, and it's completely pointless."

You shrug, leaning back against the bleachers, still sucking on the lollipop Minho had placed back into your mouth. "He's just mad because he knows he doesn't stand a chance. That, and he's jealous that I'm smarter than him."

Felix raises an eyebrow, his lips curling up in a smirk. "Smarter? Or more stubborn?"

"Both," you reply with a wink before settling into your book once again.

Before the conversation can go any further, Chan's voice cuts through the air, calling the team back to the field. "Alright, break's over! Get your asses moving!"

The guys all groan in unison, but they comply, hauling themselves off the bleachers and jogging back toward the centre of the field. You watch them go, the familiar sounds of shuffling cleats and shouted encouragements filling the air. You prop your feet up on the lower seat in front of you, feeling the metal beneath your heels as you let yourself sink into the world of The Book Thief once again.

The field is loud with the sounds of practice—shouted commands, whistles, and the occasional thud of bodies colliding as they run drills. But none of it distracts you as you turn the page, eyes skimming over familiar words. Your world narrows down to the story in front of you, the heat of the summer sun on your skin, and the rhythmic thump of footballs in the background.

Still, even through the haze of the book, you can feel someone's eyes on you. You glance up from the pages every now and then, catching glimpses of Chan sneaking looks your way between plays. It's subtle, the way his eyes flicker to the bleachers when he thinks no one's watching. But it's not subtle enough to escape your notice. You don't say anything about it, though. It's just Chan being Chan—awkward but sweet, always looking out for you in his quiet way.

You shift in your seat, adjusting the heart-shaped sunglasses on your nose as you get lost in the story again, completely unaware of the tension building on the field.

Then, out of the corner of your eye, you notice someone approaching the bleachers. At first, you don't think much of it, assuming it's just another student passing by. But when the figure gets closer, you recognize him immediately, and your stomach twists.

Aaron.

The sight of him makes your blood run cold, and a wave of anger surges through you before you even realize what's happening. He doesn't have the right to be here—not after everything. Not after the way he treated you. Your ex-best friend, now a ghost from your past, a haunting presence you've been trying to shake off for months. And here he is, showing up uninvited, acting like nothing has changed.

You slam the book shut, the sound of it snapping closed louder than you intended. Aaron's eyes lock onto you as he climbs the bleachers, his lips curling into a smirk that makes your skin crawl.

"Y/N," he says, his voice dripping with fake charm. "It's been a while."

Your jaw clenches, fingers tightening around the book in your lap. "What the hell are you doing here, Aaron?"

He shrugs casually as if he has every right to be standing in front of you. "Just thought I'd stop by and say hi. You haven't been answering my messages."

"That's because I don't want to talk to you," you snap, rising to your feet, your heart pounding in your chest. "We have nothing to say to each other."

He steps closer, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Don't be like that. We used to be friends."

"Used to be," you emphasize, your voice cold. "That's the key phrase here. We're not friends anymore."

Across the field, Chan notices the tension between you and the guy on the bleachers. He's too far to hear what's being said, but he can tell from your body language that something's off. His brow furrows as he watches you stand up, arms crossed over your chest, facing the guy with obvious hostility.

"Who's that?" Minho asks, following Chan's gaze.

Chan shakes his head slightly. "I don't know... but it doesn't look good."

The rest of the team starts noticing too, their attention momentarily diverted from practice as they watch you argue with the guy on the bleachers. From their distance, they can't hear anything, but they don't need to. Your posture says it all—tense, defensive, and angry.

Then, suddenly, Aaron grabs your wrist.

The entire team freezes, watching in shock as you yank your hand away from his grasp with a furious glare. Before anyone can react, you swing your book, hitting him across the face with a loud crack. The force of it sends him stumbling back a step, and you see the anger flare in his eyes.

Changbin whistles lowly, muttering under his breath, "Who the fuck is that?"

Felix's face tightens with worry, his jaw clenched as he exchanges a glance with Jisung. "That's Aaron... her ex-best friend."

Jisung's face twists in disgust. "He's a fucking asshole. Should've been put down ages ago."

Minho turns to Felix and Jisung, his eyes narrowing. "What the hell's his deal?"

Felix exhales sharply, scratching the back of his neck. "Best friend turned stalker. He's lucky we didn't kill him."

The rest of the guys look at Felix in surprise, and Changbin raises an eyebrow. "Wait, what? You never said anything."

Felix looks at the ground, his voice quiet but firm. "It wasn't our place to say anything. She went through some serious shit, and we were just there to help."

Jisung nods, his expression dark. "One night, she called me. Locked herself in the bathroom. I could hear him threatening her, saying he was gonna kill her. When Felix and I got to her apartment, he was trying to kick down the door... with a knife in hand."

The silence that follows is heavy, and the rest of the guys exchange looks of disbelief.

Felix glances up, his face set in a grim expression. "Twelve years of Taekwondo came in pretty handy that day."

Minho's eyes darken with understanding, and he clenches his fists, looking back at you on the bleachers. "So this guy's a fucking psycho?"

Felix nods. "Pretty much."

The team watches closely as the confrontation between you and Aaron escalates. You can't hear what he's saying, but from the way his lips are moving, it's obvious he's trying to provoke you. The tension in the air is palpable as the guy steps forward again, getting in your face.

Then, in one swift motion, you punch him square in the nose.

The satisfying sound of bone crunching fills the air as Aaron stumbles back, clutching his bleeding nose in shock. The team collectively holds their breath for a second before Changbin breaks the silence with a loud whoop.

"Beat his ass, Y/N!" Changbin yells, pumping his fist in the air.

Jeongin joins in, laughing as he cups his hands around his mouth. "Hit him with the book again!"

Seungmin, usually the most reserved, can't help but shout, "Kick him in the balls!"

Hyunjin, ever the drama queen, throws his hands up. "Make his face even uglier!"

You don't need their encouragement. You're already seething with rage, your hand still stinging from the punch as you glare down at Aaron, who's now crouched slightly, blood dripping from his nose.

But then Minho narrows his eyes, his gaze fixed on Aaron's movements. He leans closer to Chan and mutters quietly, "He's not backing down."

Chan's jaw tightens, his eyes locked on you and the way Aaron seems to be moving closer again despite the blood and the pain. "You think he's gonna hurt her? Here?"

Minho nods, his expression hard. "He looks like he's about to do something stupid."

Without another word, Chan signals to the rest of the team, and they all start moving toward the bleachers. The air feels heavy with anticipation, every step bringing them closer as the situation becomes more dangerous by the second.

Aaron, oblivious to the approaching football players, raises his hand as if to strike you. But before he can make contact, a strong hand grabs his wrist mid-air, twisting it behind his back with practised ease.

Aaron yelps in pain, his face contorting as Chan steps in front of him, a grin tugging at his lips. "I wouldn't do that if I were you."

You blink, surprised but also oddly relieved as Chan appears out of nowhere, his grip on Aaron's wrist firm. The football team gathers around, forming an intimidating circle around Aaron, their faces set in stone. You slide your sunglasses down your nose, making eye contact with Chan, who still has that cocky grin on his face.

"Thanks," you say, breathless but composed. "Never thought I'd need a sweaty hero in cleats and shoulder pads, but... it's not all bad."

Chan chuckles, his eyes glinting with amusement. "How about you let me take you to dinner tonight?"

You raise an eyebrow, glancing at Aaron, who's still squirming in Chan's grip. "As you can see, I have a bit of... baggage."

Chan shrugs nonchalantly, twisting Aaron's arm a little more until he yelps again. "As you can see, I can handle baggage." He releases Aaron with a swift shove, then kicks him lightly in the ass, sending him stumbling forward.

Aaron, humiliated and defeated, glares at you before storming off, blood still dripping from his nose. You watch him go, a mix of relief and adrenaline pumping through your veins.

Once he's out of sight, you turn back to Chan, a playful smirk on your lips. "In that case... dinner sounds great."

Chan grins at you, his eyes still gleaming with amusement from the adrenaline of the situation. "Practice is over in ten. I'll shower and then we can go out for dinner."

You cross your arms, a playful smile tugging at the corner of your lips. "You better not smell of sweat or this whole thing is cancelled."

He chuckles, running a hand through his sweaty hair. "I'll smell as fresh as a daisy, I swear."

You point at him, your expression dead serious despite the humour in your tone. "Your body wash better not be tea tree. That shit is fucking gross."

Chan laughs, a deep, carefree sound that makes your stomach flutter for reasons you don't want to admit to yourself just yet. "Noted. No tea tree. I'll pick something extra nice just for you."

"Good," you say, giving him a mock stern look before smiling. "I'll be waiting."

He jogs back onto the field, shouting commands to his team while you settle back into the bleachers, watching as they finish their drills. The tension of your confrontation with Aaron still lingers in your muscles, but the promise of dinner with Chan is enough to pull you out of that dark cloud. It's been a long time since you've felt excited about something like this.

True to his word, Chan wraps up practice in ten minutes, blowing the whistle to signal the end. The team groans, some stretching, others jogging in place, but they seem relieved. You spot Felix and Jisung laughing about something, both of them glancing over at you as Chan disappears into the locker room.

A few minutes later, Chan emerges, his wet hair slicked back, freshly showered and dressed in black cargo trousers and a black long-sleeved compression top that clings to his chest and arms in a way that doesn't go unnoticed. He glances around, scanning the field before his eyes land on you, sitting on the bleachers with your legs crossed, still sucking on what's left of the cherry lollipop from earlier.

Before he can say anything, Jisung shouts from the field, "Have her home by ten, Bang Chan!"

Felix jumps in, smirking as he cups his hands around his mouth. "Bring her back to the frat with you later because we're gonna gossip!"

Chan raises an eyebrow and shakes his head, walking toward you. "I will bring her back after the date," he says, loud enough for them to hear.

But Jisung, ever the loudmouth, shouts back, "Ten! Do you hear me? Ten, Bang Chan! I expect her delivered to Felix's room with a smile on her face!"

You roll your eyes and let out an exasperated laugh. "They're such children."

Chan reaches you, his lips curling into a smirk. "Ignore them. They're just jealous."

Chan wraps his arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer to his side as you both start walking toward the parking lot. His arm is warm and solid, and you lean into him, feeling a sense of comfort that you didn't expect. It's odd how natural it feels like this has been something building between the two of you for longer than either of you realized.

"So," Chan starts, his voice casual but curious, "you've been reading The Book Thief for what feels like the thousandth time. I think I've seen you with that book more than I've seen you without it."

You can't help but laugh at his observation. "It's literally my favourite book ever. And trust me, that's saying something. My apartment is basically a library. I have bookshelves in my living room that go wall to wall."

Chan's eyebrows raise in surprise, and he gives you a sideways glance. "Wall to wall bookshelves? Damn. I think the only books I've read are Harry Potter and The Hunger Games."

You gasp dramatically, pressing a hand to your chest in mock offence. "I can't believe you just confessed that to a literature major. It's like you've committed a cardinal sin."

He chuckles, shrugging as if it's no big deal, but the grin on his face shows that he's enjoying this little back-and-forth. "I mean, it's true! I've never been much of a reader, but I guess you could always try and convert me."

You roll your eyes, still smiling. "Maybe I will. But it's gonna take more than just Harry Potter and The Hunger Games to impress me."

"I'll take that as a challenge," he says with a wink, his arm squeezing your shoulder slightly as you both approach his car. Chan walks ahead a few steps and opens the passenger door for you, his grin widening when he sees the surprise on your face.

"Wow, a gentleman," you tease, sliding into the passenger seat. The car is nice—clean, with that subtle scent of vanilla air freshener lingering in the air.

Chan moves around to the driver's side, sliding into the seat next to you and starting the engine. "Well, I had to impress you somehow. Thought opening doors was a good start."

"Points for effort," you say, settling back into the seat and clicking your seatbelt into place. "So, where are we going, Captain?"

"There's this fifties-style diner about half an hour away," he explains as he pulls out of the parking lot. "They do this amazing cherry and white chocolate shake. It's kinda their speciality."

You raise an eyebrow, intrigued. "You really know how to win a girl's heart, don't you?"

He glances over at you briefly, grinning. "I try."

The drive is easy, the sky gradually shifting from a soft orange to deep shades of pink and purple as the sun starts to set. The radio hums quietly in the background, playing some old indie rock song you vaguely recognize, but most of your attention is on Chan.

The conversation flows effortlessly, as it always does with him. You talk about the team, about practice, and even about the antics of Felix and Jisung—who, of course, keep Chan on his toes both on and off the field.

After about thirty minutes, you finally arrive at the diner. It's straight out of the fifties with bright neon lights, red vinyl booths, and a giant jukebox in the corner playing classic hits. You've seen places like this in movies but never actually been to one.

"This place is perfect," you say as you slide out of the car, taking in the retro charm.

Chan walks beside you, a proud grin on his face. "I knew you'd like it. Wait until you try the food."

Once inside, the two of you decide to get your meals to go, opting to enjoy the rest of the evening somewhere a little quieter. You order a steak salad with a cherry and white chocolate milkshake and Chan orders a burger and fries, sticking with something classic.

As you wait for the food, Chan leans back against the counter, glancing at you with a mischievous smile. "So, steak salad, huh? I pegged you as more of a burger and fries girl."

You smirk, rolling your eyes. "Just because I'm friends with Felix and Jisung doesn't mean I have the same terrible eating habits as them."

"Oh, trust me, I know. Jisung's diet is 80% ramen and Red Bull."

"And Felix eats like... five different kinds of fried chicken in a single sitting," you add with a laugh. "I swear, that boy has a death wish."

The food arrives quickly, and with the bags in hand, you both head back to the car. Chan drives for another twenty minutes, taking a winding road that leads up to a hilltop just outside of town. The view is stunning, especially with the last sliver of the sunset dipping below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of pink, orange, and deep indigo.

Chan parks the car at the top of the hill, and the two of you hop out, climbing onto the hood to sit and eat. You settle in, opening your salad container and taking a bite as the cool evening breeze brushes against your skin.

"This is perfect," you murmur, looking out at the vast expanse of sky and the twinkling city lights below.

Chan nods in agreement, sipping his milkshake before glancing over at you. "So, tell me—what's so special about The Book Thief? I mean, I've seen you read it like a hundred times, but I've never asked you why you love it so much."

Your face lights up at the question, excitement bubbling in your chest as you set your salad aside for a moment. "Oh, where do I even start?"

He smiles, clearly enjoying your enthusiasm. "I'm listening."

You take a deep breath, thinking of the best way to explain it. "Well, The Book Thief is set in Nazi Germany during World War II, and it's narrated by Death, which is already such a unique perspective, right? The main character, Liesel, she's this young girl who loses everything, but she finds comfort in words, in books. The story is about how she uses books to survive, to make sense of a world that's falling apart around her."

Chan nods, listening intently as you continue, your voice growing more passionate.

"It's not just about the war or the books, though. It's about humanity. About kindness in the face of evil, about love and loss, and the way we find hope in the darkest times. The way it's written, it just... it makes you feel everything. You can't help but get attached to the characters, even though you know from the start that things aren't going to end well."

He raises an eyebrow. "So it's one of those books that breaks your heart?"

You laugh softly, nodding. "Pretty much. But it's worth it. Every time I read it, I find something new, something that hits me differently. It's one of the few book-to-movie adaptations that I actually enjoyed, too, which is rare for me."

Chan grins, taking another sip of his shake. "I might have to check it out now. You've definitely sold me on it."

You smile, feeling a warmth spread through your chest at the thought of him reading something you love so much. "If you do, let me know. I'd love to hear what you think."

The two of you finish your food, the conversation flowing easily as the sky darkens and the stars begin to appear. It's peaceful, sitting there on the hood of Chan's car, the city below twinkling like a sea of lights. There's something intimate about it, something that makes you feel closer to him in a way you hadn't expected.

Just as you're about to say something, you feel the first drop of rain hit your arm. You glance up, surprised to see dark clouds rolling in overhead. Before you can even react, the sky opens up, and rain starts pouring down in thick, heavy sheets.

You can't help it—you laugh. The sound bubbles out of you as you tip your head back, letting the rain soak your hair and drip down your face. It's cold, and you're getting absolutely drenched, but something about it feels freeing.

Chan, however, looks at you like you've lost your mind. "Y/N, you're gonna get sick."

You shake your head, grinning as the rain continues to pour. "What would Natasha Bedingfield say?"

He blinks at you, clearly confused. "Huh?"

You gasp dramatically, your hand flying to your chest. "Unwritten! Oh my god, Chan! Jisung and Felix are going to burn you at the stake for not understanding that reference."

Chan chuckles, wiping rain from his face as he tries to shield himself from the downpour. "Okay, okay, I'm sorry! But seriously, you're soaked to the bone, and your dress is, uh... well, it's kind of see-through now."

You glance down, noticing how your white dress clings to your body, the fabric almost translucent from the rain. You shrug, completely unbothered. "I've got a bra on, and I'm wearing hot pants under the dress. I'll survive."

Chan looks at you with a mixture of amusement and concern. "Yeah, but if you get sick right now, Jisung and Felix will never let me take you on another date."

You point at him, grinning. "Nicely played, Bang Chan. Nicely played."

He laughs, shaking his head as he pulls you off the hood of the car. "Come on, let's get out of the rain before you catch a cold."

You follow him, still laughing as the rain continues to pour, but you can't help but feel a little bit of warmth spreading through you despite the cold. There's something about the way Chan looks at you, something about the way this entire evening has played out, that makes you think this won't be the last time you end up drenched and laughing with him.

Once inside the car, Chan cranks the heat up, the warmth quickly filling the small space as you both sit there, soaked to the bone but smiling like idiots. He glances over at you, his eyes soft, and for a moment, the world outside fades away.

As soon as you settle into the passenger seat, you can't help but smile at how soaked you and Chan are. Rain still drips from your hair onto the seat, but the warmth from the car's heater slowly makes everything feel cosy despite your drenched clothes. Chan glances at you, his eyes twinkling with amusement as he runs a hand through his still-wet hair, pushing it back.

"Well, that wasn't how I imagined the night ending," he says, laughing softly. His voice is warm, and the way his lips curl into a grin sends a shiver through you—not from the cold, but something else.

You shake your head, chuckling. "What, getting caught in the rain wasn't part of your master plan?"

He grins. "I mean, I had something a little less... wet in mind."

You arch an eyebrow, smirking. "Oh? What was the plan, then?"

He shrugs as he starts the car. "I don't know... something about food, a nice drive back, maybe dropping you off without you looking like you've just walked through a storm."

You laugh, shaking your head at the thought. "Eh, I think the rain was a nice touch. Unpredictable."

As Chan pulls out of the diner's parking lot, you glance over at him, your fingers idly fiddling with the radio dial. You spin it to one of your favourite stations, hoping to hear something upbeat, something to keep this good mood going. The static clears, and suddenly, Natasha Bedingfield's Unwritten fills the car.

You burst out laughing, your hand shooting up to point at the radio. "See! I told you! It's a sign!"

Chan glances over at you with an incredulous smile, shaking his head. "Seriously?"

You nod, eyes wide with mock seriousness. "Yes! This is the universe telling us to go back out there and dance in the rain. Unwritten, Chan. It's fate."

He snorts, rolling his eyes as he turns the wheel, keeping his focus on the road. "Fate or not, Jisung and Felix will actually kill me if you get sick."

You wave him off dismissively, flipping your hair dramatically as the music pumps through the speakers. "Oh, please. They'd get over it. Besides, they do stuff like this with me all the time."

Chan glances at you, eyebrow raised. "Do what?"

"When it rains, and we're at the frat house, we lie in the garden."

He nearly chokes on his laughter, glancing over at you in disbelief. "You what?!"

You nod, completely serious. "Yep. We go out there, rain pouring down, and just lie in the grass, soaking it all in."

Chan shakes his head, clearly trying to picture the three of you doing that. "You're telling me that you, Felix, and Jisung, who are literal balls of sunshine, just... lie in the rain like that?"

"Mmhmm," you hum, smiling. "People think we'd hibernate when it rains, but nah, we're out there."

"Wait," Chan says, eyes widening in realization. "That time when all three of you came down with the flu and you were sick for, like, two weeks...?"

"Yep!" You laugh, nodding enthusiastically. "That was because we were out in the rain a few days before. It was right after that hurricane warning."

Chan slaps his palm against the steering wheel, groaning. "You're insane. All three of you."

You grin, unrepentant. "Totally worth it."

He shakes his head again, his tone somewhere between disbelief and amusement. "You know Minho had to play nursemaid for you three, right?"

"Don't remind me," you groan, laughing as the memories of that miserable two weeks flood back. "Jisung's bed became our sick haven. Minho brought us soup and medicine, and Felix complained the whole time that the soup was too hot. It was a mess."

Chan laughs, shaking his head again. "I bet Minho loved every second of that."

"Minho lived for it," you admit with a grin. "He pretended to be annoyed, but you could tell he secretly loved bossing us around."

The rain has finally let up by the time you and Chan pull up to the Alpha Phi frat house, but both of you are still soaked to the bone, shivering as the cold seeps into your skin. The storm caught you both off guard, drenching you during what should've been a calm and picturesque evening on the hilltop. Even with the heater blasting in Chan's car, your teeth are still chattering, and Chan isn't doing much better.

Chan glances over at you as he pulls into a parking spot. His lips are tinted blue from the cold, his hair dripping water into his eyes. "You sure you're okay? You're shaking like a leaf."

You nod, though it's a half-hearted attempt at pretending you're not freezing. "I'm fine. I've had worse. Plus, it was kind of fun, right?"

He chuckles, his deep voice making you feel warmer than the heat blasting through the vents. "Yeah, I guess it was." He turns the key in the ignition, killing the engine. "But maybe next time, we should pick somewhere indoors for dinner."

You smirk, teasing him. "Oh, what, are you scared of a little rain?"

He grins, shrugging. "I'm not scared, but I'd rather avoid hypothermia if possible. Plus, I'm gonna catch hell from Felix and Jisung if they see you like this."

"They'll live," you say with a laugh, unbuckling your seatbelt. "Besides, I've been soaked in the rain plenty of times before."

Chan raises an eyebrow, a playful glint in his eyes. "Yeah, but I'm betting none of those times involved a fifties diner date with me."

You can't help the smile that spreads across your face. "Fair point."

As you both climb out of the car, the cold night air hits you again, and you shiver, crossing your arms over your chest. Chan jogs over to your side and wraps his arm around your shoulders, pulling you close to his side as you both make your way toward the frat house entrance.

"You know," he says, his voice light as you walk, "I was thinking... would you want to go out again next week? Like, for dinner, maybe somewhere less rainy."

You glance up at him, surprised at how casual and confident he sounds, despite the shiver in his voice from the cold. His dark eyes are warm, even in the dim light from the porch. "I'd love that," you say, then grin playfully. "But I don't mind the rain."

He laughs, squeezing your shoulder as you reach the front door. "Duly noted. But I'll still try to find somewhere dry next time."

When you step inside the frat house, the warmth hits you like a wave, and it's a welcome change from the cold rain outside. The sound of voices fills the air—music is playing faintly in the background, and you can hear someone laughing loudly from the living room. The house is busy, as usual, but the moment you and Chan step through the door, all eyes seem to turn to you.

Felix and Jisung, who had been lounging on the couch in front of the TV, immediately leap up when they see you both. Felix's blonde hair bounces as he rushes over, and Jisung follows close behind, both of them wearing matching expressions of horror.

"Holy shit, Y/N, what the hell happened to you?!" Felix exclaims, eyes wide as he takes in your drenched appearance.

"You look like a fucking drowned rat!" Jisung adds, though his concern is clear despite the teasing.

Before you can respond, Chan lets out a small, sheepish laugh. "Yeah, we, uh, got caught in the rain."

Felix grabs a towel from a nearby chair and drapes it over your shoulders, his hands working quickly to pat you dry. "Caught in the rain? You look like you've been swimming in the fucking ocean, mate!"

Jisung, never one to miss a beat, starts wringing out your hair, water dripping onto the floor as he works. "This is unacceptable. Upstairs. Now. Felix's room. You need to dry off before you catch something."

Felix nods in agreement, already ushering you toward the staircase. "Chan, you're staying downstairs. We need to gossip in peace."

You glance back at Chan, who's trying—and failing—to hide his amusement. He shrugs, holding his hands up in surrender. "Fine, fine. I'll stay down here."

Jisung shoots him a mock glare. "I can't believe you brought her back soaked to the bone. What kind of date is this?"

Chan laughs, running a hand through his wet hair. "Hey, it wasn't my fault. The weather turned on us."

Felix huffs, shaking his head. "Excuses, excuses. Come on, Y/N. You're coming upstairs before you freeze."

Felix is already ahead of you, grabbing another towel from somewhere and practically shoving it into your hands. "Chan can stay downstairs and think about how he fucked up," he mutters.

You glance back at Chan, who's leaning against the doorframe with a sheepish grin, clearly amused by Felix and Jisung's antics. "Sorry, Y/N," he calls out, laughing as he raises his hands in surrender. "I'll just... wait down here."

"You better!" Felix yells over his shoulder as he marches up the stairs. "No more soaking wet dates until you learn how to control the weather!"

Jisung snickers, practically dragging you up the staircase. "Honestly, you'd think he'd check the forecast."

You roll your eyes, laughing at the absurdity of it all as you're pulled into the chaos that is Felix's room. It's a cosy space, there's a large desk cluttered with gaming gear and an impressive gaming chair, which you've stolen for yourself more times than you can count during impromptu hangouts.

Jisung shoves you into the chair before throwing a towel over your head, his hands immediately going to work on drying your hair with a little too much enthusiasm. You can't even see him, but you can hear his voice as he fusses over you. "You're lucky we're here. Who knows what kind of shit Chan would've done if we hadn't intervened."

"Yeah," Felix chimes in, digging through his drawer for what looks like some socks. "You probably would've caught pneumonia or something. He's hopeless when it comes to romance."

"Hey," you protest weakly from under the towel, voice muffled by the fabric. "The rain wasn't that bad."

Felix shoots you a look, one eyebrow raised in disbelief. "You're dripping water all over my floor, Y/N. It was bad."

Before you can respond, the door opens, and Jeongin steps into the room holding a steaming mug of hot chocolate. "Chan made this for you, but these two"—he gestures toward Felix and Jisung with his thumb—"told him to stay downstairs, so he asked me to bring it up."

You pull the towel off your head just enough to peek at Jeongin and the mug, your heart doing a little flutter at the thought of Chan making hot chocolate for you. It's a simple gesture, but something about it feels sweet and personal. "Thanks, Jeongin," you say, reaching for the mug.

Jeongin grins, sliding the cup into your hands. "No problem. You're gonna need it if you're hanging out with these two lunatics."

"Hey!" Jisung protests, still aggressively towelling your hair dry. "We're being responsible friends. We're making sure she doesn't freeze to death after being out in the rain with a guy who clearly doesn't own an umbrella."

Felix rolls his eyes, but there's a smile on his lips. "Yeah, yeah. Did you guys kiss, though?"

You nearly choke on your first sip of hot chocolate, but you manage to swallow before raising an eyebrow at Felix. "Excuse me?"

Felix's grin is wide and cheeky, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "Come on, spill. You went on a cute little date in the rain, and now you're back here all flustered. Did you kiss him?"

You take another sip of the hot chocolate, letting the warmth fill you as you shake your head. "No, not yet, unfortunately."

Felix and Jisung both stare at you, wide-eyed with anticipation after you reveal there was no kiss. The tension hangs in the air for a moment, and then Jisung throws his arms up in mock frustration, pacing dramatically in front of Felix's bed.

"No kiss?" he exclaims, sounding both horrified and baffled. "We sent you off into the rain with Captain fucking Bang Chan and you didn't even get a kiss? This is unacceptable. Felix, write that down."

Felix, ever the sidekick to Jisung's antics, pulls out a small notepad from the drawer of his desk and flips it open with a flourish. He grabs a pen and clicks it, poised to start scribbling. "What am I writing?"

Jisung, his eyes narrowing with exaggerated seriousness, points at you like a detective uncovering a conspiracy. "We need to make a list. A list of requirements and expectations that Chan must meet before he even thinks about asking her on another date."

You laugh, pulling the towel around you tighter. "Are you serious right now?"

Jisung snatches the comb from Felix's vanity and gives you a sharp look. "Now sit back and relax, princess," he says, his voice dripping with mock authority. "I'm about to give you the best hair care of your life."

You roll your eyes but settle into Felix's gaming chair, leaning back as you let Jisung gently work through the knots in your hair. Despite the aggressive energy he usually radiates, his hands are surprisingly gentle, carefully detangling each knot without pulling too hard. It's almost... soothing, in a weird way.

Felix, sitting cross-legged on his bed, notebook poised on his lap, taps his pen against the notepad like a man possessed. "Right, where were we?" he asks, a grin pulling at his lips. "Oh yeah, making sure Captain Bang Chan lives up to our best friend's standards."

You give them both a playful glare. "You two are way too invested in my love life."

"We're not invested," Jisung says, pausing to rake the comb through your hair again. "We're protective. There's a difference. Now, let's get back to this list of demands. You deserve only the best, so it's our job to filter out the subpar dudes."

Felix nods solemnly, clicking the pen. "Agreed. If Chan doesn't meet these standards, we'll end this for you before it even begins."

You snort, leaning back into the chair. "You're both absolutely insane."

"Insane, but right," Jisung insists, giving your hair a soft tug for emphasis. "And trust me, you'll thank us for this later."

Felix's eyes gleam with mischief as he starts writing. "Alright, first of all—Chan needs to know everything about The Book Thief. Characters, themes, hidden meanings. He better be able to have in-depth discussions with you about the book at any time. If he can't do that, then what's the point?"

You chuckle, feeling the tension in your shoulders ease as Jisung works the comb through your hair. "You two really think I need to date a literature major?"

"No," Felix replies, shaking his head. "But if he's going to date you, he better know the basics. He should at least be able to have a conversation about your favourite book without embarrassing himself."

Jisung nods in agreement, still combing. "Exactly. This is crucial. Next up—Chan must proofread your creative writing assignments for your minor if you ask him to. I know you, Y/N. You obsess over every little detail in your work. Chan's gotta step up and help with that."

You burst out laughing. "He's not even a lit major! How do you expect him to help me with my writing?"

"Doesn't matter," Felix says, scribbling furiously in his notepad. "He's smart, isn't he? He can read and give feedback. That's part of being a supportive boyfriend."

Jisung hums thoughtfully, gently untangling another knot. "And let's not forget the most important rule. Chan must always carry cherry lollipops. No exceptions. That's your thing, Y/N, and if he doesn't have at least one on him at all times, he's out."

Felix smirks, adding that to the list. "Definitely. You've got a brand, and he needs to respect that. Cherry lollipops are non-negotiable."

"You two are ridiculous," you say with a smile, shaking your head as Jisung continues combing through your now smooth hair.

"We're just getting started," Jisung replies with a grin. "Let's see... Oh! He must memorize your coffee order. If he can't order it perfectly, he's done."

Felix nods enthusiastically, jotting it down. "And he has to be able to tell when you're having a bad day just by looking at you. No asking. He should know instinctively."

Jisung leans over your shoulder, inspecting Felix's list. "Don't forget, he must also be willing to go to the bookstore with you and carry all your books. If he complains even once, he fails."

You laugh out loud at that one, swatting at Jisung's hand. "Oh come on, that's a bit much!"

"No, it's not," Felix insists, wagging his pen. "It's bare minimum boyfriend behaviour. He needs to support your reading addiction."

Jisung grins. "He should also randomly surprise you with books. No special occasion necessary just because he knows it'll make you smile."

Felix writes that one down too, adding, "And he needs to know your taste in literature inside and out. If he buys you a book you hate, that's a big red flag."

You groan, but you're still smiling. "How are you two even coming up with all of this?"

"It's easy," Jisung replies as he finishes with your hair, setting the comb down on Felix's vanity. "We just know you really well, so we know what you deserve."

Once Felix and Jisung are done crafting the list of increasingly ridiculous standards, Jisung leans back in Felix's gaming chair, admiring their handiwork with a gleam in his eye. "Alright, now we're going to make sure Chan actually agrees to this."

Felix nods, slapping the notepad with a grin. "But wait! We're missing something. Before he can even sign the list, we need to create The Felix and Jisung Best Friend Test."

You pause, mid-sip of your hot chocolate, raising an eyebrow. "The fucking what now?"

Jisung jumps out of his chair like he's struck with divine inspiration. "It's the ultimate screening test. Before Chan can officially date you, Felix and I need to make sure he's worthy of our approval."

Felix grins devilishly, clearly in full agreement. "Exactly. We'll come up with a set of questions that he has to answer. If he passes, then he's worthy of dating you. If he fails..." He lets his voice trail off dramatically.

Jisung crosses his arms and nods solemnly. "Then it's a no-go."

You stare at both of them, half-amused, half-exasperated. "You two are so full of shit."

"We're not full of shit," Felix says, his voice overly serious. "We're just looking out for you. This is important. We have to protect you from subpar boyfriends."

"Yeah," Jisung adds, already pulling out a fresh sheet of paper to write the test questions. "You don't want to end up with some guy who doesn't even know your favourite book or messes up your coffee order."

You groan though you can't help but smile. "Alright, fine. Let's hear these 'test' questions."

Jisung taps the pen against his chin thoughtfully. "First question: 'What are your intentions with our sweet Y/N?' Gotta make sure he's in it for the right reasons."

Felix scribbles it down with a smirk. "Good one. If he hesitates, it's an automatic fail."

Jisung nods. "Next question: 'Why didn't you kiss her on the first date? Is she not good enough for you? What's wrong with you?'"

You nearly choke on your laughter, shaking your head. "Oh my god, you're seriously going to ask him that?"

"Absolutely," Jisung says, grinning. "We need answers."

Felix adds, "And it's important. If there's no kiss on the first date, we need to know why."

Jisung leans over Felix's shoulder, reading the list as he adds more questions. "How about this one: 'What are you going to do if Y/N gets kidnapped? How are you helping Felix and me get her back from the heathens?'"

Felix cracks up, his pen still moving. "Yes! And we're expecting a detailed answer. None of that 'I'll call the cops' bullshit. We need action, a full-on rescue plan."

You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose but still smiling. "You guys are fucking ridiculous."

"And yet, you love us for it," Jisung says with a cheeky grin. "Alright, next question... What's a question that'll really throw him off?"

Felix taps his pen thoughtfully. "How about... 'If Y/N wanted to adopt a pet raccoon, what would your reaction be?'"

Jisung snorts, grinning wildly. "Perfect. That'll tell us if he's capable of handling your weirdness."

You burst out laughing. "I don't want a pet raccoon!"

"Yeah, but hypothetically, what if you did?" Jisung replies, shrugging. "It's a test of his adaptability. Gotta see if he can roll with the punches."

"Okay, next one," Felix says, his voice slightly muffled as he scribbles away. "'If Y/N comes home with ten books, what's your reaction?'"

Jisung grins. "And if he says anything other than 'I'll help carry them,' he's done."

The two of them continue brainstorming ridiculous questions while you lean back in the gaming chair, amused and baffled by their dedication. After a few more minutes, they finally stop, looking at the list like they've just created a masterpiece.

"Alright," Jisung says, holding up the notebook triumphantly. "The Felix and Jisung Best Friend Test is complete. Let's go find Chan."

You roll your eyes, but there's no stopping them now. You stand up and follow them downstairs to the living room, where the rest of the guys are lounging around. Minho and Jeongin are sprawled on the couch, while Hyunjin and Seungmin are half-heartedly watching something on TV.

As you walk in, Minho raises an eyebrow, glancing at you and then at Felix and Jisung, who are clearly on a mission. "What's this all about?"

Before you can answer, Jeongin scoots over, making room for you on the couch. You sit between him and Minho, and they both immediately pull you into their warmth. Minho wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. "You're freezing," he mutters, his voice low and concerned. "Did Felix and Jisung not take care of you upstairs?"

Jeongin grabs your hands, rubbing them between his to warm them up. "Yeah, you're still cold. You need to warm up properly."

You smile at their concern, feeling the warmth from their bodies seep into your skin. "I'm fine, really. You two are just acting like overprotective brothers now."

Minho snorts. "Someone has to look out for you."

Before you can say anything else, Jisung suddenly dims the lights, casting the room into a shadowy glow. Felix stands near the light switch, his face serious. "Alright, everyone. We're about to interrogate Chan."

Chan, sitting comfortably in the armchair, looks up in surprise, his brows furrowing. "Uh... what?"

Jisung steps forward, pulling out his phone and turning on the flashlight, shining it directly into Chan's face. "You heard us, Bang Chan. You're about to take The Felix and Jisung Best Friend Test."

Chan blinks, momentarily blinded by the light. "Wait, what?"

Felix steps forward with the notepad, his voice dripping with authority. "This is a screening process. If you pass, you're allowed to date Y/N. If you fail, well... let's just say you'll have some explaining to do."

You groan, burying your face in your hands. "I can't believe this is happening."

But Chan just laughs, leaning back in the armchair and crossing his arms. "Alright, let's hear it. What's this test?"

Jisung clears his throat dramatically as if this is a matter of utmost importance. "First question: What are your intentions with our sweet Y/N?"

Chan looks amused but answers seriously. "My intentions are to take her on nice dates, make her smile, and get to know her better."

Felix narrows his eyes, scribbling something in his notepad. "Good answer. Next question: Why didn't you kiss her on the first date? Is she not good enough? What's wrong with you?"

Chan laughs, rubbing the back of his neck. "Well, the timing didn't feel right. I didn't want to rush it."

Jisung leans forward, still holding the phone flashlight up. "You sure it wasn't because you don't find her attractive?"

Chan's face softens as he looks at you. "Definitely not. I just didn't want to ruin a good night by moving too fast."

Felix jots down some more notes, looking satisfied. "Okay, next question. What are you going to do if Y/N gets kidnapped? How are you helping Jisung and me get her back from the heathens?"

Chan raises an eyebrow, clearly trying not to laugh. "Uh... first, I'd call you two to let you know what's happening. Then I'd help track her down, using my connections and resources. I'll be the one to take down the kidnappers."

Jisung nods approvingly. "Good, good. We need someone who's willing to get their hands dirty."

Felix continues, his tone completely serious. "Alright, here's a tricky one. If Y/N wanted to adopt a pet raccoon, what would your reaction be?"

Chan chuckles, leaning forward slightly. "If Y/N wanted a pet raccoon, I'd probably try to talk her into getting something a little less... wild. But if she really wanted it, I'd help her take care of it."

Jisung grins. "Good. Adaptability. Nice."

Felix glances at the list, nodding to himself before moving on. "Alright, final question. If Y/N comes home with ten books, what's your reaction?"

Chan doesn't even hesitate. "I'd help her carry them, no questions asked."

Felix and Jisung exchange a glance, clearly impressed with Chan's answers. Felix gives a satisfied nod. "Alright, Chan. You passed the test."

Jisung shuts off the flashlight and steps back. "You're not out of the woods yet, though."

Felix pulls out the list of ridiculous standards they'd created earlier and clears his throat. "Now, we have a list of standards that you need to agree to if you're going to date Y/N."

Chan raises an eyebrow, leaning back in the armchair. "Standards?"

Jisung smirks, grabbing the notepad from Felix and reading aloud. "First: You must know everything about The Book Thief, characters, themes, quotes, everything. Y/N needs to be able to discuss it with you at any time."

Chan chuckles, nodding. "Alright, I can do that."

"Second," Felix continues, his tone serious. "You must proofread her creative writing assignments if she asks. No complaints."

Chan nods again. "Deal."

"Third," Jisung adds, his grin growing wider. "You must always carry cherry lollipops. No exceptions. If Y/N asks for one and you don't have it, you're done."

Chan laughs, clearly enjoying the absurdity of the situation. "Got it. I'll stock up."

Felix flips to the next page, continuing the list. "You also need to memorize her coffee order perfectly, be willing to go to the bookstore with her, and carry all her books without complaint."

Jisung adds, "Oh, and you need to surprise her with books every now and then. No special occasion necessary."

Chan grins, shaking his head. "That actually sounds fun. I'm in."

"And last but not least," Felix says, looking at the final line on the list, "you need to be able to tell when Y/N's having a bad day just by looking at her. No asking. You should know instinctively."

Chan looks thoughtful for a moment, then nods. "I think I can manage that."

Jisung hands him a pen, a triumphant grin on his face. "These are non-negotiable, Chan. You are to sign this list and commit to these standards."

Chan takes the pen, still smiling, and signs the bottom of the list with a flourish. "There. Happy?"

Felix and Jisung exchange satisfied nods, clearly pleased with themselves. "Very," Felix says, tucking the list into his back pocket. "You've officially earned our approval."

You can't help but laugh at the entire situation, shaking your head. "You guys are unbelievable."

Minho, who's been watching the entire exchange with an amused smirk, tightens his arm around your shoulders and leans in. "I'm surprised Chan actually put up with all of that."

Chan shrugs, standing up from the armchair. "It was worth it."

Jeongin, still holding your hands, grins. "Well, I think this means we can officially welcome you into the family, Chan."

Chan gives a mock salute. "Glad to be here."

It's game day, and the energy on campus is absolutely electric. The Miroh Maniacs are playing their biggest rivals—the Northridge Titans—and you're, as always, exactly where you belong: on the players' bench, close to the action.

The sun is high in the sky, casting a warm glow over the packed bleachers. Fans are screaming, faces painted red and black in support of the Maniacs, and you're sitting in the middle of the chaos, completely calm, once again flipping through your worn copy of The Book Thief.

Your red summer dress flutters lightly in the breeze, contrasting against the bright green of the football field. The black wedges on your feet sink slightly into the grass, and your signature red heart-shaped sunglasses sit perched on your nose. You cross your legs, turning another page, your focus entirely on the book. It's comforting, especially amidst the madness of game day.

The Maniacs' jerseys stand out against the green—Chan with his number 03, Minho wearing 25, Felix sporting 01, and the rest of the team spread across the field. Their black and red uniforms gleam in the sunlight, and the tension in the air is thick.

It's always like this when they play the Titans. These games are intense, brutal, even. You've seen more dirty plays and borderline illegal tackles during these matches than you care to admit.

Today is no different. From the moment the game kicks off, the Titans come at the Maniacs full force. You can hear the crack of helmets and the heavy thud of bodies slamming into each other, the crowd roaring in response to every hit. The referee's whistle cuts through the noise, but it doesn't stop the Titans from playing dirty.

You catch sight of Felix getting shoved to the ground by one of their linebackers, a dirty move that earns him nothing but a smirk from the Titans' player. Jisung's quick to step in, shoving the guy back before the referees can even intervene.

"Fucking Titans," Jisung mutters, glancing toward you as he returns to the field. You give him a supportive smile from your spot on the bench, watching as he lines up again. He's always one to defend his teammates, especially Felix.

As the game goes on, you try to stay focused on your book, but it's hard not to be distracted by the intensity of the match. You glance up every now and then, watching as Chan barrels through the Titans' defensive line, Minho weaving through the chaos with his usual precision. Changbin's a wrecking ball, slamming into players with no hesitation, while Hyunjin and Jeongin dart across the field like lightning.

You can feel the pressure building with every second that ticks by, especially as the Titans continue to play dirty. By the time halftime rolls around, the score is close, too close for comfort. The Maniacs jog off the field, sweat dripping down their faces, some of them muttering curses under their breath about the Titans' underhanded tactics.

As they head to the locker room, you settle deeper into your seat, trying to focus back on your book. You're mid-sentence when you suddenly feel a presence nearby, someone standing too close. You glance up, annoyed at the interruption, only to see a guy from the rival team standing right in front of you. He's got the Titans' logo plastered across his jersey, and the look on his face immediately sets you on edge.

"Well, well, what do we have here?" he says, his voice dripping with sleaze. His eyes rake over you, lingering in ways that make your skin crawl. "Didn't think a pretty little thing like you would be hanging around with those losers."

You ignore him, hoping he'll get the hint and leave. You flip the page in your book, acting like you haven't even noticed him. But of course, guys like him don't take hints.

"Hey, sweetheart, I'm talking to you," he presses, stepping even closer. You can smell the cheap cologne and sweat on him. "You waiting for one of those fuckers on the Maniacs? Why don't you come watch the real men play instead? I could show you a better time."

You grit your teeth, doing your best to tune him out. You've dealt with assholes like this before—guys who think they can say whatever they want because they're on some team. It's not worth engaging. But he's not done. He leans in closer, his voice lowering as he continues his vulgar comments.

"You know, a girl like you shouldn't be wasting time on a bunch of losers like them. I could make you feel good, babe. Real good. Just say the word."

Your fingers tighten around the book, every fibre of your being screaming to shove him away, but you hold back. He's not worth your energy. You stay silent, eyes glued to the page.

"Oh, come on. What's wrong? Cat got your tongue?" he taunts, leaning over you now. "You're not gonna say no to a guy like me, are you?"

And then, just like that, he reaches down and snatches your book out of your hands. You feel your stomach drop as he holds it above his head, grinning like he's accomplished something.

"Reading, huh? What a waste of time. Why don't you come have some fun with me instead? I promise it'll be better than this boring shit."

You stand up, crossing your arms over your chest, glaring at him with a look that could burn a hole through steel. "Give it back."

The guy just smirks, holding the book even higher above his head. "Oh, I'll give it back when you ask nicely. Maybe throw in a little thank you while you're at it."

Before you can even respond, someone from behind shouts, "OI!"

The guy freezes, and you turn to see Chan storming over, the rest of the team flanking him like a wall of muscle and fury. His eyes are locked on the guy holding your book, his jaw clenched tight, and there's murder in his expression.

Without missing a beat, Chan wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you close and pressing a kiss to the top of your head. You lean into his side, your heart pounding, but the tension starts to melt away with him there. Felix and Jisung are already stepping up, both of them glaring at the guy.

"You've got three fucking seconds to give her the book back," Felix growls, his usually bright and playful demeanour nowhere to be seen.

Jisung steps forward, fists clenched. "Or we'll make sure you won't be able to hold anything for a long fucking time."

The guy falters, glancing nervously between them, but he tries to play it off. "Relax, I was just having a little fun. No need to get all worked up."

Changbin, looking like he's seconds away from throwing the guy into the bleachers, steps up beside Felix. "Give her the fucking book. Now."

Minho crosses his arms, his gaze icy. "Before we decide to make sure you never play another game again."

The guy's bravado cracks, and he lowers the book slightly, trying to keep what little dignity he has left. "Whatever," he mutters, tossing the book toward you. "She's fucking ugly anyway."

Before anyone can react, Jisung lunges. He tackles the guy to the ground with a force that knocks the breath out of everyone watching. The rival player barely has time to register what's happening before Jisung's fists are flying, rage clear in every strike.

You feel Chan's grip tighten on you as he pulls you back, keeping you close. "Stay with me," he murmurs into your ear, his voice low and protective. You lean into him, still trying to process everything as Jeongin and Hyunjin rush over, pulling Jisung off the guy before things get out of hand.

"Enough, Han!" Hyunjin shouts, dragging Jisung back. "He's not worth it."

Jisung struggles for a second, but eventually calms down, breathing heavily as he glares at the guy on the ground. "Don't you fucking dare talk about her like that again."

The guy scrambles to his feet, muttering curses under his breath as he stumbles away, clearly shaken.

Felix steps forward, placing a hand on Jisung's shoulder. "Let him go, man. He's not worth it."

You finally exhale, the tension in your chest easing slightly as the situation defuses. You're still leaning against Chan, his arm wrapped securely around you, and you glance up at him. He's watching the guy walk away, his jaw still tight, but when he looks down at you, his expression softens.

"You okay?" he asks, his voice gentle.

You nod, though your heart is still racing. "Yeah. Thanks for that."

He smiles, pressing another kiss to your forehead. "Always."

The second half of the game kicks off with a surge of intensity that practically crackles in the air. The crowd is louder than ever, chanting and cheering as the Maniacs and Titans line up on the field. You can feel the tension pulsing through the stadium, but all you can think about is the smirk that guy had on his face and how Jisung tackled him to the ground.

You catch Chan's eye as he gets into position, his jaw tight, eyes focused like a predator stalking prey. He's locked in now, and it's obvious who he's targeting.

The moment the whistle blows, Chan charges forward with a level of ferocity you've only seen in games against the Titans. He barrels through the opposing players like a tank, zeroing in on the guy who had the audacity to mess with you.

There's no hesitation, no mercy in his movements. Chan slams into him hard, sending the player sprawling onto the field with a heavy thud. The crowd erupts, half in awe, half in shock, but you just smirk, knowing this is personal for Chan.

From the bench, you and Jisung watch with amused satisfaction. Jisung's been benched for his earlier outburst but he's not bothered. In fact, he's enjoying every second of watching Chan wreck that guy's shit.

"Damn, Chan's out for blood," Jisung mutters, leaning back on the bench as he watches the game with a grin. "That guy's going to feel those hits tomorrow."

You chuckle, flipping through your book even though the game keeps pulling your attention. "I don't feel bad for him. He had it coming."

Jisung nods, watching as Chan lines up for the next play, eyes narrowed on his target. "Oh, for sure. That dude's lucky Chan's not actually trying to break bones."

Another whistle and the play starts again. Chan doesn't miss a beat, taking down the same guy with ruthless efficiency. It's like watching a lion pick off the weakest in the herd. Each tackle is harder than the last, and each time the guy gets up, he's a little slower, a little more shaken.

Jisung laughs, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye. "You know, Chan really likes you."

You pause, pretending to still be engrossed in The Book Thief even though the words are starting to blur from how fast your heart is beating. "Yeah, I know. He was really sweet on our date."

Jisung raises an eyebrow. "Sweet, huh? Is that why you didn't kiss?"

You roll your eyes, shifting in your seat. "I don't know. I just wish he would've kissed me. I mean, he was perfect the whole night, but..."

Jisung snorts, shaking his head. "He's waiting for the right moment, that dork. It's Chan. He overthinks everything."

"He's sweet," you say with a small smile, glancing over at the field as Chan flattens the guy again. "But yeah, he could be a little bolder."

Jisung chuckles, leaning back and crossing his arms. "He's a huge step up from the losers you usually date, though."

You give him a side-eye but can't help but laugh. "Thanks, Ji. Real subtle."

Jisung grins. "Just saying. Chan's actually a good guy. He treats you right, and he's obviously willing to tackle anyone who looks at you the wrong way."

You smirk, watching as the game progresses with Chan's relentless assault on the guy who'd tried to mess with you. The Titans are starting to look rattled, their dirty tactics failing as the Maniacs pick up momentum. Every time Chan hits the guy, you and Jisung share a glance, unable to hide your amusement.

"God, he's just laying him out over and over," Jisung laughs, shaking his head. "I almost feel bad for the guy. Almost."

You lean back, crossing your legs and finally closing your book, realizing you're too distracted to read. "He deserves it."

"Damn right he does," Jisung mutters, eyes flicking back to the field. "And Chan? He's doing it for you. You see how hard he's going?"

Your chest flutters a little, watching Chan as he commands the field, each hit more powerful than the last. Yeah, you've noticed. He's not just playing for the team right now. He's playing for you.

The final whistle blows, and the Maniacs emerge victorious with a hard-fought win. The stands erupt into wild cheers, red and black confetti raining down as fans jump to their feet. The Maniacs' players are high-fiving and clapping each other on the back, but your eyes are locked on Chan as he jogs off the field, eyes immediately searching for you.

Felix, Minho, and the rest of the team are basking in the victory, but Chan's focus is entirely on you. As he gets closer, you can see the adrenaline still pumping through his veins, his chest rising and falling with each breath. His hair is damp with sweat, his jersey streaked with dirt, but he's never looked better.

He doesn't stop when he reaches you. Instead, he hooks his arm around your waist, pulling you up from the bench in one fluid motion before pressing his lips to yours. It's not gentle, not soft like you might've imagined for a first kiss. It's fierce, fueled by the high of victory and the raw emotion from earlier. But it's perfect.

The second his lips meet yours, the world seems to blur. The roar of the crowd fades into the background, and for a moment, it's just you and Chan. You kiss him back, wrapping your arms around his neck as he lifts you slightly off the ground. You can feel the strength in his arms, the heat radiating from his body, and the way his lips move against yours is enough to make your head spin.

Around you, the entire football team erupts into cheers and whistles, but you don't care. You and Chan are locked in your own little world. His grip tightens on your waist, pulling you even closer as his lips move against yours with a kind of urgency that takes your breath away.

When you finally pull apart, both of you are breathless, and Chan presses his forehead against yours, his smile wide and genuine.

"Took you long enough," you tease, your heart racing.

He laughs, his eyes sparkling with that boyish charm that always gets to you. "Sorry, I guess I was waiting for the right moment."

You chuckle, still feeling the warmth of his lips lingering on yours. "Well, I think this qualifies."

"Damn right it does," Jisung calls from the sidelines, still sitting on the bench. He's grinning from ear to ear, and Felix is right beside him, laughing. The entire team is watching now, most of them whistling or clapping, and you roll your eyes at their over-the-top reactions.

Chan sets you back down, his arm still wrapped around your waist as he turns to face the team, his grin widening. "Alright, alright. Get your laughs in now."

Felix smirks, clapping his hands. "I knew it! I fucking knew it was gonna happen today. Took you long enough, mate."

Minho, ever the smug one, crosses his arms and raises an eyebrow. "Not bad, Bang Chan. Not bad at all. But we all knew it was coming."

You roll your eyes, leaning into Chan's side as the team continues to tease. Jeongin comes up and claps Chan on the back, grinning. "Finally, man. We were starting to think you'd never make a move."

Chan chuckles, tightening his arm around you. "Yeah, well... figured I'd save the kiss for after a win."

Jisung, still lounging on the bench, raises an eyebrow. "You're just lucky you didn't fuck it up. If you waited any longer, Y/N might've made the first move."

You smirk, looking up at Chan. "He's not wrong."

Chan laughs, leaning down to press a quick kiss to your temple. "Guess I'll have to make sure I'm quicker next time."

The rest of the team hoots and hollers, clearly enjoying the moment. Even Hyunjin, who's usually more composed, is grinning like an idiot. Seungmin shakes his head, trying to suppress a laugh. "I'm just glad we finally got that over with. It was painful watching you two dance around each other."

Felix claps his hands together, a wicked grin on his face. "Alright, next step is Chan officially joining the 'Best Friends Approved Boyfriend' club. Y/N's got some standards, and we need to make sure he's up to the task."

Chan groans, shooting Felix a look. "I already signed the damn list. What more do you want from me?"

You laugh, shaking your head as Felix continues to tease. "We'll let you off the hook for now, Captain," you say, giving him a playful nudge. "But only because you did good today."

Chan grins down at you, his eyes softening. "Thanks. That means a lot, coming from you."

As the team slowly starts to head toward the locker rooms, you and Chan linger for a moment longer, basking in the aftermath of the game and the kiss that's still fresh on your lips. The sun is beginning to set, casting a golden glow over the field, and for a moment, everything feels perfect.

Chan pulls you closer, his voice low as he leans in. "So, what do you say we go out tonight? Celebrate the win... and the kiss?"

You smile, your heart fluttering at the thought. "I'd like that."

He grins, pressing one last kiss to your forehead before leading you toward the locker rooms. The Maniacs may have won the game, but in this moment, it feels like you and Chan are the real victors.