#just pay me for having to put up with this shit

[rebelfell]

Sooo this started out being all cute and fluffy but veered over the edge into the flangst canyon…my bad. 💌 1.8k

Thinking about bestfriend!eddie who shows up your boyfriend on Valentine’s Day.

Unintentionally, of course.

It was never something he planned to do. 

He just happened to be in CVS the night before, blazed out of his mind and wandering aimlessly while the guys argued about what snacks to get. And when he made the mistake of turning onto the designated holiday aisle, he was met with a barrage of pink and red glitter and sparkles and hearts exploding off every shelf—an absolute affrontal assault to his cynical sensibilities. 

But then he picks up this one card that catches his eye. It’s got a watercolor painting of this cute little porcupine who’s holding a heart-shaped box of chocolates, and there’s a speech bubble at the top that says “I Porcu-PINE for you!”

Eddie absolutely loses it.

He stands there making these stuttering giggling sounds and they’re coming out way louder than he intended, and the pimply and dead-eyed clerk behind the register leans over to give the laziest evil eye Eddie has ever seen. He does his best to stifle himself, but more little snickers still eke out as he picks up the envelope that goes with the card, and starts scanning the shelves for the Valentine’s variation of your favorite candy.

(Because it would be weird just to do the card, right? If he throws in some other stuff too, maybe it’ll be less conspicuous. Yeah? That makes sense, doesn’t it? Yeah, totally it does.)

Before he knows it, he’s collected a whole armload of crap. Two bags of the candies (they’re 2 for $5, that just makes good business sense), a little plushie with giant sparkly eyes (its stare is hypnotizing in an odd way, it kind of reminds him of you), and a small (tiny, honestly) bouquet of daisies wrapped in crinkly cellophane (he knows you like those way more than you like roses.)

He puts it all down on the counter and gets another withering glare from the cashier after he’s rung it all up. Eddie wonders if this guy is judging him; thinks he’s some lazy, loser boyfriend buying a bunch of junk gifts at the last possible minute. But Eddie doesn’t have the mental capability at the moment to explain that he’s not even buying these for a girlfriend—they’re all for his best friend, who he sometimes, occasionally, has some slightly inappropriate thoughts about, which yeah, is kind of inconvenient in a lot of ways, but it’s cool, he’s fine with that—

There’s another huff from the cashier as he repeats the total due, and Eddie realizes this guy doesn’t give a shit that Eddie might be a crappy boyfriend, he’s much more annoyed by the fact that he has yet to take out his wallet. And as he scrambles to do so, the rest of Corroded Coffin comes up to the front, still loudly arguing about the snacks they’re carrying in their hands.

They all give Eddie a funny look when they see what he’s getting, Grant being the first to bluntly ask who it’s for. They fall silent, exchanging wary glances when Eddie mumbles your name under his breath as he hands over a creased and wrinkled bill to pay at long last.

“That’s super weird, man, don’t do that,” Jeff argues immediately. “Just give it to Gareth, and he can give it to Annie instead. Problem solved.”

“Excuse me,” Gareth snaps, “but I’ve gotten my girl her gifts and they’re a hell of a lot better than this crap. Er, uhh…no offense.”

Their drummer winces, and his eyes dart guiltily between Eddie and his purchases.

“No—” Eddie’s face scrunches and he shakes his head defiantly. “They’re not, like, serious gifts. It doesn’t mean anything. And she’s dating that rich asshole, I’m sure he’s gonna bury her in expensive shit. This is barely gonna land on her radar,” he insists, now clutching his bag in his fist.

“So then why bother?” Jeff asks, widening his annoyingly perceptive eyes under arched brows. 

But Eddie doesn’t respond. He just stomps out to the parking lot and waits by the car. All the while thinking about all the things he can never quite manage to say out loud when it comes to you.

The next day, Eddie’s rethinking everything.

Sober now and staring down at the offerings piled up in the van’s passenger seat, he can’t help but think this might be the stupidest thing he’s ever done in his life. And that’s saying something.

He talks himself in and out of going through with it about twenty times just in the ten minute drive it takes him to get to your apartment. And even as he climbs the stairs and raises his hand to knock, he has yet to decide if this is a good idea or not.

He came over semi-early, figuring you’d likely be busy later getting ready for some fancy dinner at some restaurant where Eddie probably couldn’t afford to order so much as a glass of water. 

But when you open the door, he can’t help but frown at your appearance. You don’t look like you are getting ready to go out, if anything you look like you’ve retired for the evening before 5pm.

Your face is bare except for a couple spots of zit cream, and you have on an old headband pushing your hair back out of your face. You’re swathed in the kind of baggy, oversized clothes he only sees you in when you’re ass deep in a cold or some other similarly debilitating illness. 

You don’t look sick, though. Just…sad?

How can you be sad on Love’s birthday?

“Hey, uhhh,” he says, forcing a tight smile. His palms start to sweat around the plastic handles he’s clutching behind his back. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” you reply.

There’s no sharpness to it, yet it still comes out kind of flat. Like you’re trying not to sound upset. But Eddie doesn’t push it as he follows you to the kitchen, sliding into his usual seat at your bar.

“What’s that?” you ask, eyes falling to the bag he plopped down on top of the counter.

“It’s stupid,” Eddie starts, “just some dumb little things I picked up.” For you, he adds in his head.

A small smile finally breaks the thin line your lips had been set in since he arrived and Eddie’s back broke out in a cold sweat under his leather jacket as he bashfully pushed the bag over to you.

He then watches, choking on his own heart, as you start pulling things out one by one.

You grin at the daisies, bringing them to your nose to sniff even though they probably smell more like weed than flowers after spending all night in the trailer. You squeal over the plushie, holding it up next to your face and squishing it. You hum excitedly at the first bag of candies, and laugh when you pull out a second one.

Then you get to the card.

Your eyes roll, but you can’t help smiling when you see Eddie’s nickname for you scrawled on the front of the envelope in his chicken scratch. And you’re still smiling as you slide your finger under the flap to tear through the bright red casing.

Then you read it, and your smile falls.

Your whole face does, in fact. It starts with a minute tremble of your chin that escalates into your brow pinching and your mouth crumpling into a frown. And you seem to clench every single muscle in your face to stop yourself from crying, but you just can’t keep it from happening.

“Hey, hey, wait, no, no, nooooo—”

Eddie doesn’t think, he doesn’t take a second to consider doing anything differently, he just jumps to his feet and comes around the counter to your side. He puts his arms around you automatically, letting you bury your face in his chest as you cling to him and try to settle yourself.

“I’m so-sorry, I’m s-so sorry, I’m sorry,” you babble, blubbering through the words.

“No, I’m sorry, sweetheart. I swear, I just thought it was cute, I didn’t mean to—”

“It is cute,” you wail as tears stream down your cheeks, “It’s fucking adorable!”

“Okay, then what’s the problem?” Eddie chuckles, pulling back slightly and ducking his head to look you in the eye, trying to get you to smile back.

You sniffle a few more times before you manage to collect yourself and swipe your fingers under your eyes to smear the wetness of your tears across your cheeks. Eddie’s fists clench at his sides to stop them from reaching up to do it again for you when you miss a stray one.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’ve been in such a weird funk all day since Matt, um…”

Your voice wobbled again and Eddie’s expression turned stony, scolding himself inwardly for letting even a tiny bit of excitement rise in his chest at the thought that you might have broken up.

“Is everything okay?” he asked. “I mean, did you guys…are you…”

“No, nothing like that,” you inhaled shakily. “He just…he doesn’t really do Valentine’s Day. And it feels so stupid to get upset over it. Like it’s just a dumb holiday, and I don’t need, like, presents or a dinner or flowers or anything like that. I just…”

Your arms crossed, as if you were trying to hug yourself. Eddie wished he could do it for you.

“I don’t know, I thought we’d do something,” you finally add quietly.

“He’s not even coming over?” Eddie scoffs. Suddenly the outfit made more sense. “At all?”

Your eyes closed in a pained wince. “Don’t make me feel worse, please,” you beg him somberly.

“No, I—” Eddie sucks in a sharp breath. “I’m sorry, I really didn’t mean to upset you. Honest.”

His head dropped guiltily, eyes glued to his sneakers that stood out against the tile in your kitchen. He glanced one last time at all the stupid stuff he bought now strewn across your counter.

“You don’t have to apologize,” you told him firmly. “That was really sweet, Eddie. Seriously, like the sweetest thing anyone’s ever done for me.”

Your hand reaches out for the plushie again and you cradle it in your palm as you swoop in to drop a light peck on his cheek. The warmth of it makes Eddie’s whole face hot and he feels his neck tense from how much he wishes he could turn his head to the side and allow for his lips to meet yours. 

But of course he doesn’t. He wouldn’t dare.

He sure would think about it, though.

Eddie was still staring at his feet, but he couldn’t keep his eyes off you for long. He glanced back up to see you pushing through all of the extraneous things you were feeling to give him a smile, small as it was. He nodded and opened his arms, welcoming you back into them.

“Anytime, sweetheart,” he whispered into your hair. Too quiet even for you to hear him.

I thought for a while about whether or not this is them, but I think this might be an entirely different set of idiots.

also is it just me or is v-day particularly oppressive this year?

[luvyeni]

han has a new obsession… well two new obsessions

𝓲𝓲 ㅤ𓈒ㅤ𓈒𓈒 ( 한 x fem!reader )   ─── ❛ genre ⸝⸝ smut. content warning. oral ( m ), unprotected sex, reverse cowgirl word count. 0.7k 「 req? ⦂ yes/no 」 library  !

𝕼 ㅤ𓈒ㅤ𓈒 yeni’s note .ᐟ crazy , he has two actual tattoos and i haven’t seen one fic yet about it .. we loosing recipes guys 💔

jisung didn’t believe that ‘once you get a tattoo you won’t be able to stop getting them’ at first … then he got his first one and he was proven wrong.

“i can’t go out to eat tonight.” the boy said; “i have an appointment.” he picked up his bag, grabbing his phone off the practice room couch. “where?” lee know asked the boy. “to-to get another tattoo.” he shyly scratched the back of his neck. “another one?” changbin said. “the staff is gonna have a hard time if you keep getting them.”

“last one i promise.” he said; but he knew he was lying. ”so what you getting done this time?” hyunjin asked. “um i wanted to get butterfly wings.” he said. “right here.” he pointed to his rib cage. “what’s with the sudden interest in butterflies?” minho asked. “you gotta secret girlfriend who loves butterflies or some shit.” he’s glad his beanie covered his ears , because that would be a dead giveaway. he chuckled nervously. “no of course not.” and he wasn’t lying , he didn’t have a girlfriend; but he did have a new obsession with butterfly wings…

“oh fuck.” he laid back against the seat; his fresh tattoo sitting right below of his already tatted peck — a fresh pair of butterfly wings covered in wrap. his head was thrown back against the seat as you bobbed your head up and down on his cock. “th-that feels so fucking good.” you smirked around his length , hollowing your lips , he grip your tattooing chair until his fingers turned white. “i-i missed your mouth.”

he bucked his hips up; you gagged on his length , your heat needy for his cock. “fuck im gonna cum!” he moaned loudly; another reason you always booked him for later appointments. “fuck!” he hissed, shooting ropes of cum down your throat , you pulled away coughing as you swallowed his sweet load. “you liked that?” he nodded as you stroked his cock. “good , cause we’re not done.”

you stood up; lifting your shirt over your head , along with your bra; revealing the huge pair of butterfly wings on your back. “you want me to ride you again?” he moaned at the mention of you bouncing on his cock like you did the last time. “pl-please.”

you grabbed the base of his cock; lowering yourself down on him. “mmmmh fuck.” you moaned, your back was facing him , your tattoo fully on display much to jisungs liking. he loved your tattoo ; the beautiful shading of blue , he remembered being mesmerized the first time you both had sex in this same chair. “fuck i love your cunt so much!” he held your waist. “so-so big sung , love the way you feel.”

bouncing you up and down on your length. “fuck sung im gonna cum.” you moaned out. “me too.” his hand coming your clit rubbing your clit. “oh shit im cumming.” you shouted , cumming; sitting down on him fully , letting his fuck up into you. “shit shit shit , im cumming.” he groaned , he pulled out of you , just as he came , stroking his cock out as ropes of cum shot on your back , some getting on you tattoo.

he slumped in the chair as you stood up to clean yourself. “can you help?” you handed him a wipe. “of-of course.” he said , wiping off your back. “so is there a specific reason you wanted butterfly wings?” you smirked. “or did you get them just because they’re pretty?”

of course you knew the answer; that’s why he was currently sitting in your chair , wiping his cum off of your back. “be-because they’re pretty.” you hummed. “they are, aren't they?” he watched you put your clothes back. “ye-yeah.”

he cleaned himself; putting himself away. “i-i guess it’s time to pay.” he said. “yeah.” you smiled , your tattooed arm reached out taking the money from the boy. “i guess i’ll see you soon.” you questioned. “well…” he trailed off; of course he wanted to see you again, but he also promised he wouldn’t get another. “how about this , give me your number and when you’re ready for another call me?” you smirked.

“or if you want to see my butterfly wings it doesn’t matter to me.”

©️LUVYENI

[reddtulips]

florist!simon and tattoo artist!johnny part 2

johnny’s so worked up when he pushes through the door of simon’s shop, he’s exclaiming some shit in scottish and holding up the rose simon left him in the air like it’s some sort of evidence.

simon’s in the middle of making a flower arrangement and simply blinks at the gibberish directed his way, but hides a sly smirk under his surgical mask.

johnny saunters towards the counter, puts on his best smile, and simon swears the flowers around him start swooning and singing and becoming more aromatic the second he opens his mouth and spews some charming words at him.

he crosses his arms, tilts his head as he stares down at johnny but the bastard doesn’t falter, just keeps talking and flirting and fuck his eyes are so blue and he can see the outline of his biceps through the material of his shirt and he can smell his fucking cologne and did simon hear him correctly?

a date? friday, 6pm? johnny will pick him up? with his bike? oh god. simon hasn’t been on a date in years months, let alone have someone plan it instead of him. he’s practically pulling on a veil and a massive white wedding bouquet from behind his back for this stranger he left a rose for as a little gift.

he behaves like a bastard though, tells johnny to buy something from him and maaaaybe he’ll consider the date.

johnny immediately pays 100 pounds for the biggest fucking bouquet simon can make, tells him to pick only the freshest and simon’s favorite flowers, makes simon explain the meaning of every flower and its color, and when simon ties the prettiest bow around the fat stems, johnny tells him it’s beautiful. now take it home and put it in a nice vase in your living room and wait until i get you another one on friday.

simon’s raising his eyebrows but is kicking his fucking feet like a teenage girl inwardly.

johnny leaves with simon’s number scribbled on a piece of paper, twirling the red rose between his fingers. simon watches him go, then looks back at the bouquet—massive, extravagant, borderline ridiculous, just like johnny requested. and in the middle of it, nestled among the other flowers, is another red rose.

‘so ye don’t forget about me,’ johnny had said, grinning as simon tucked it into place in the middle of the arrangement.

as if simon fucking could.

[babybearnation]

HAPPY BEAR RVENT EVERYBODYYYYYYYY

cat!lando + author!reader = interfering with your writing sessions because you're not paying enough attention to him?

woo this is so exciting haha & also i love this idea !!

cat hybrid!lando x gn!author!reader

cat!lando is a menace, we know this

he's clumsy, sure, but he also definitely has the cat trait of knocking shit off tables on purpose

the only thing that really quells his chaos is your attention

turn it away from him for one second though, and everything goes to hell

you left before he woke up once and came back to your house absolutely trashed, an injured lando and a very rapidly forming headache as he started crying and hissing once he noticed you

but back to the present

you had hoped the human side of lando would understand why you weren't giving him attention on this particular day but nope...

lando's cat side won again

you're working on book #2, the sequel to your best-selling debut novel

things are going well! the words are flowing, the brain is braining - its all good

and then lando wakes up

you pause your writing at that to make him some food because lord knows that man cannot be trusted in a kitchen

but soon you're back at it, pouring all your time and attention into your work, hands flying across the keyboard

your peace offering doesn't work for very long, however, as lando soon finishes with his food and enters your work space to come and bother you

he sees your laptop open and GLARES at it, a small hiss falling from his mouth that goes unnoticed by you

"y/n. y/n. gimme 'tention. y/n." <- lando every 5 seconds

"busy, lan. go play or watch something." <- you every 20 seconds

after about one 5 minute long youtube video, lando is slinking over again

"please?"

"busy, lando."

this goes on for a while before lando decides enough is enough and he must have your complete attention right now!!

he's not stupid enough to touch your keyboard/the power button, but he will flap at your laptop screen

when that doesn't work and you just carry on as normal, lando huffs and starts batting at your head and arms

he throws in the occasional headbutt/nudge every now and then

that still doesn't work

after that, lando decides to throw all caution and calmness to the wind and worms his way into your lap, blocking your screen and finally getting your eyes on him

you try and get him to move but he's staying put, his short-clad butt wiggling all over your lap

he'll allow you to go back to work on one condition

"lemme stay here! and give me pets! and... and lemme bite!"

"that's three conditions."

"y/n!" <- he's whining. of course.

give him what he wants and before long, he'll be fast asleep in your lap, tail curled around your wrist possessively as he purrs loudly against your neck/shoulder :D

© all rights to babybearnation 2025.

[littelovelunette]

Fuck Vi with a strap? 😼

Roped Up

Contains smut, strap, clit play, rope play, spanking, mommy kink, cliffhanger ending

All throughout the sex you and Vi have had so far it was Vi dominating you and never really the other way around. Seeing Vi you could almost just tell that she was going to be submissive as fuck as a bottom, so you knew you had to try it out.

But you needed to play your cards right, that woman was so stubborn, and she'd definitely not want you seeing her vulnerable submissive side so soon.

After Vi got back home from a long day, she only greeted you a little and plopped on the bed exhausted.

Vi could feel you undressing her but didn't pay much heed to it because it was you and continued to sleep, slipping deeper into her slumber.

She was so tired.

You couldn't help feel sympathy for her, tracing and playing with her hair for a bit before you put your plan into action, hands move precisely and gently as you first tied her wrists.

Her fists were her biggest weapon after all. After you finished tying her wrists, you pulled the rope up over her head and tied her legs to the bedposts. She looked so vulnerable this way, damn...

You undressed yourself and put the harness on, moving the dildo slowly between her folds. She was already dripping.

Vi stirred a little, hands tugging at the ropes and then her eyes snapped open and she looked down, "Shit, doll, untie me, right now," she attempted to sound intimidating but a bit of arousal was already creeping onto her voice, "Shhh, let mommy take charge," you said, shushing her with a finger before you flipped her onto her knees.

Vi gasped as her face pressed against the pillow she's never been taken like this by anyone before. She felt the dildo against her slit and shuddered.

"N-No," she managed to croak out before you finally pushed your hips forward and slammed the dildo inside her pussy.

She let out a scream followed by a strangled moan, damn was Vi so vocal as a sub.

"Like mommy's strap deep in your cunt, huh?" You reached your hand down and toyed with her clit while you continued slamming the dildo into her hole.

Vi tightened on the dildo faltering your movements a little but you knew she was trying her best to be on the receiving end. Vi gasped as you fucked harder into her, making the bed creak and she tries to spread her legs more to give you better access.

"S-So deep," Vi stuttered out, tears in her eyes as you continued your reckless assault on her hole, her clitoris was throbbing and swollen when you turned her on her back. Your eyes locked onto her nipples and you grabbed them twisting and pulling at her nubs as she screamed and writhed against the dildo, grinding up against it pathetically.

"More mommy please, ruin my hole," Vi begged, hips thrusting up hopelessly as she tried to bring herself closer to the edge, "Oh, goodness yes mommy," she cried out and moaned super loud as she came undone on the silicone toy not even giving you a warning before hand earning a swat to her ass.

"Bad girl," you chided, slapping her ass again.

"Sorry, mommy," Vi mumbled looking up at you shyly making something inside you melt, "That's a good girl," you cooed and continued thrusting the dildo deep into her hole

"I'm a goodgirl, yes, I'm a goodgirl," Vi gasped and screamed as you slammed the dildo deep, the tip of the silicone toy kissing her cervix with each thrust and it made her scream even louder.

She looked adorable, her tough exterior reduced a crying, begging puppy-like state. As you continued fucking her, you looked done at her and noticed how she has her eyes squeezed tightly.

"Eyes on mommy," you said and she obliged, opening her teary blue eyes.

"You close?" You smirked and Vi nodded, that was enough for you. You pulled her legs up and continued thrusting harder and faster before she gushed her liquids out all over the dildo and soaked the sheets, "Mmmm, so good for mommy yeah? C'mon," you got over her and made her suck the strap which she did happily, tasting herself on the phallic toy.

"Did soooo well for me," you giggled and got off of Vi, taking the strap off and slowly beginning to untie her, as you bent down to pick up the fallen clothes, you gasped as Vi grabbed both your wrists, pinning you down to the bed, and holding your wrists up with one hand.

"Where do you think you're going, mommy?" Vi smirked.

[ronearoundblindly]

Ohhh Valentine's who would! Who would write you a love letter/ be your secret admirer?

eee, so cute! (Warnings for language because Lloyd is on this list all the time.)

James Mace

Though he keeps them basic, simple, short and sweet, Mace absolutely writes love notes. If you aren't already dating, he'd be the deepest of secret admirers, meaning you would get lovely gifts and things but never know who he was. Mace strikes me as the "hopelessly in love with his best friend" type. He's around to make sure his gifts are appreciated, stops if they aren't, and also escalates if you seem super interested 🥰.

Curtis Everett

Definitely a secret-admirer type but not really a letter writer. Curtis also keeps it simple. He prefers 'gifts' that make your day easier, so he coordinates more tedious tasks be done (if you work together) or does stuff like pay for your drink ahead of you in line at the café. Little things like that rather than deliveries of chocolates and flowers.

Jimmy Dobyne

Old school and old fashioned, Jimmy will write you the occasional letter. It's meaningful but not gushy. He's honest about how happy you make him and descriptive of your best times together. Every so often flowers or candy don't seem like enough, usually after hard times or big events. Valentine's as a holiday...doesn't really count.

Johnny Storm

Nah. If he likes you, you'll know, and if he can just text or call, he ain't writing shit on paper.

Jake Jensen

Digitally? Yes, tons of notes. Bunch of AI/deepfake videos of animals or famous people professing how much he loves you. Most of them are funnier than hell, several have brought you to tears, and I would not put it past him to sneak an intro to a marriage proposal in one...

Lloyd Hansen

He takes great pride in making all the little cards on gifts horrible. "So you smell better" on the perfume he buys you, "eat me and like it" on the chocolates, and, of course, "don't be fucking late" on the dinner invite. On the back it also says "wear something slutty."

Ari Levinson

No letters, sorry. Snail mail reminds him of deployment so he'd rather not. Ari did enough secretive stuff in the military, too, so he'll just openly admire you, thanks.

Ransom Drysdale

He tried once.

He then had to clean up an overflowing bin of wasted papers from shit drafts, and he's never fucking doing that again. He'll take you shopping. Problem solved.

Andy Barber

The only love letters/notes he's written have been in apology for having to miss a date or special occasion due to work. Sorry. I know that sucks, but overall, you'd also rather he spend time actually with you whenever possible instead of running around buying cards and writing notes.

Steve Rogers

They start as letters but end up half full of doodles. One of Steve's favorite subjects to sketch from memory is your profile. Your smile comes in at a close second.

Bucky Barnes

Would so much rather spend the time and effort with you, but if he has to be away (and he can find enough space for himself to quietly focus on it) then he'll write you. Though he's not as well-read or eloquent as Steve, Bucky has the advantage of being slightly dorkier and (deliberately) funnier. His love letters are sweet, spicy, and often hilarious.

Thank you for asking!

[Main Masterlist; Who Would... Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

[lunaswicked]

Stress Relief - J.U

Paring: roommate!Jey Uso, Fem!Reader Tags: Heavy smut, enemies to lovers, oral (male receiving), unprotected p in v, pure lust, breeding kink, hair pulling, cervix kissing, 18+, MINORS DNI A/N: Thank you ANON for requesting this one. I had more than enough fun writing this.🩷💛 Word Count: 4.5k

There’s just something about him that pisses you off. 

Maybe it’s that damn mullet—too perfect, like he actually puts effort into keeping it that way. 

Or maybe it’s those stupid grillz that flash every time he smirks like he knows something you don’t. 

Or the way his eyes get all dark and intense whenever you're too close, like he’s waiting for you to slip up. 

And don’t even get started on the hoochie shorts—him walking around the house like he owns the place, thick thighs out, no shame whatsoever—  

“Right, Y/N?”  

You blink, brain still stuck on him, and realize Jasmine’s looking at you expectantly. Fuck. You have no idea what she just said.   

“Huh?” you mumble, scrambling. “My bad, I’m just tired.”   

Jasmine side-eyes you before clearing her throat. “I said, isn’t it Xavier’s fault and not mine? Like, he was the one who stayed up all night gaming, knowing damn well he had a test, and then had the audacity to blame me when he failed because I didn’t wake him up?”  

Classic Jasmine and Xavier. Always on some dumb shit.   

“Yeah,” you nod, finally catching up. “That’s on him. He’s his own person. Can’t blame you for his L.”

After a solid hour of Jasmine ranting about Xavier’s dumbass decisions and you half-listening while nodding at the right times, you finally make it back home. The second you step inside, a heavy sigh escapes your lips. Silence. Thank God.   

You toss your keys on the counter and kick off your shoes, already mentally preparing to crash in your room and not deal with anyone for the rest of the night���  

And then you see him.  

Jey.  

Laid out on the couch like he pays all the bills, legs spread like he owns the damn place, one arm draped over the back of the sofa, the other scrolling through his phone. His infamous hoochie shorts are front and center—gray, slightly too tight, showing way too much thigh.   

Your eye twitches.   

“You comfortable?” you deadpan, crossing your arms.  

Jey doesn’t even look up. “Mmhmm.”   

You inhale sharply through your nose, debating whether it’s worth it to start an argument tonight. Spoiler alert: it’s not.  

With a shake of your head, you step toward the hallway, but before you can make your great escape, Jey finally acknowledges you—well, more like calls you out.   

“You had a good lil date with Jasmine?” His voice is lazy, that usual cocky drawl laced with amusement.   

Your jaw clenches. “It wasn’t a date. We were just talking about some shit.”  

Jey hums like he doesn’t believe you. “Uh-huh.”   

You hate when he does that. It’s like he enjoys getting under your skin for fun.   

Rolling your eyes, you keep walking, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a reaction. But just as you reach your bedroom door, you hear him mumble, almost like an afterthought—  

“Didn’t even say goodnight. Rude ass.”  

Your fingers tighten around the doorknob, and for a brief second, you consider turning around, throwing a pillow at his stupid manspreading self, and telling him exactly where he can shove his passive-aggressive comments.  

But you don’t.  

Instead, you exhale, push your door open, and mutter just loud enough for him to hear—  

“Goodnight, Jey.”   

You don’t have to turn around to see his smirk. You can feel it.

After shutting the door behind you, you waste no time stripping out of your clothes and heading straight for the shower. The hot water does wonders, washing away the tension from the day, but it doesn’t completely wipe away the lingering irritation from Jey’s annoying ass.  

By the time you step out, fresh-faced and wrapped in an oversized t-shirt, your mood has mellowed slightly. You towel-dry your hair, scrolling through your phone as you step back into the living room, just to grab your notebook off the coffee table.  

And then you see it.  

An empty water bottle. On the floor.   

You freeze, eyes flickering to the plastic offender before trailing up to the culprit himself—Jey, still posted up on the couch like he’s got no worries in the world, scrolling through his phone like the place doesn’t look like a damn mess.   

"Seriously?" you scoff, arms folding across your chest. "You just gon’ leave this here like we got a maid or something?"  

Jey barely glances at you. "Man, I ain’t got time for the arguing shit tonight." His voice is lower than usual, rough around the edges. "I’m already stressed the fuck out."  

You raise an eyebrow, leaning your weight onto one hip. "Oh wow. You’re stressed? No way. I thought you were just chillin’ in those hoochie daddy shorts with not a care in the world." Your voice drips with sarcasm, and you expect him to throw something smart back, to keep up the usual banter.  

But he doesn’t.  

Instead, his jaw flexes, his thumb stopping mid-scroll on his phone screen. He lets out a slow exhale, tilting his head back against the couch, eyes slipping shut for a moment like he’s forcing himself to keep it together.  

Something shifts.  

The air gets heavier, quieter.  

"You ever have one of those days," he murmurs, voice deep and tired, "where no matter what you do, shit just don’t go right?"  

You’re not sure what it is—maybe it’s the way his voice drops, or the way his chest rises and falls like he’s carrying more weight than he wants to admit—but something makes you pause.  

Your fingers tighten around your notebook as you stare at him. "Yeah," you say after a beat, softer this time. "'Cause you ain't the only one."  

He lifts his head then, dark eyes meeting yours. For once, there’s no teasing, no cocky smirk—just something unreadable, something you’re not sure you wanna figure out.  

The tension between you thickens, stretching into the small space between the couch and where you stand.  

And then, before you can even think to move, Jey shifts, legs spreading a little more like he’s testing you, eyes flickering down to your bare legs before dragging back up to your face.  

"You stay runnin’ yo mouth," he mutters, voice just low enough to make your stomach dip.  

Your breath catches slightly, but you don’t back down. "And you stay leaving shit around like a damn child."  

His lips twitch. Not quite a smirk, but close. "You really tryna argue with me right now?"  

"You started it," you quip, gripping your notebook a little tighter, suddenly hyper-aware of how the room feels smaller, how the space between you feels like nothing at all.  

Jey leans forward, elbows resting on his knees, his presence pulling you in without even trying. His voice drops even lower when he says, "You sure you wanna go there?"  

Your heart kicks up. You should walk away.  

But you don’t.

You let out a laugh, shaking your head at him, but it’s not your usual annoyed laugh. No, this one is softer, teasing—like you’re calling his bluff. Because that’s all Jey ever does, right? Talk shit. Act like he’s that guy. Like he gets under your skin more than you get under his.  

But then you see it.  

The way his eyes darken.  

Your laughter dies down when he slowly—real slow—pushes himself off the couch, standing to his full height. He tilts his head slightly, watching you with that unreadable expression, tongue swiping across his bottom lip like he’s thinking real hard about something.  

You should’ve walked away when you had the chance.  

But now? Now it’s too late.  

Jey moves with a lazy kind of dominance, circling you like a damn predator, eyes dragging over your frame, taking his sweet time like he’s got all night.  

You swallow, gripping your notebook a little tighter. "What?" you say, feigning nonchalance, but your voice is already a little weaker than before.  

Jey lets out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head. "Man…" He exhales sharply, flexing his jaw. "Just told yo ass I’m stressed, mama. I’m tryna keep cool."  

His voice is deep, smooth, but there’s something dangerous lurking underneath it. Like he’s on the edge of something, and you’re the one about to push him over.  

"You ain't the only one stressed," you shoot back, though it doesn’t hold the same bite as before. You feel hot, like the air thickened between you without warning.  

Jey stops behind you now, standing close. Too close. You feel the heat radiating off him, the scent of his cologne mixed with whatever stress he’s been carrying all day.  

And then—his breath is at your ear.  

A shiver racks through you before you can stop it.  

"Maybe I should relieve my stress and fuck the attitude outta you."  

Your breath catches.  

Your whole body goes rigid.  

Because what the fuck did he just say?

Your brain straight up short-circuits.  

Mouth slightly parted, hands gripping your notebook like it’s the only thing keeping you grounded—you don’t know what to say. Because what the fuck are you supposed to say when your roommate, the man you claim to barely tolerate, just whispered some filthy shit in your ear like it was nothing?  

Like he knew what he was doing. Like he knew the effect it would have.  

And fuck—fuck—it wasn’t your fault that your panties were now coated in the wetness from your meaty pussy. It wasn’t.  

Blame the stress, blame the long-ass day, blame him for walking around in them damn hoochie shorts with thighs thick enough to make a grown woman weak. Blame anything but yourself.  

But Jey? Jey knows exactly what he’s doing.  

You feel him shift behind you, not touching you, but standing so damn close that you can feel the heat of his skin, the weight of his presence pressing down on you like a vice.  

"You real quiet now," he murmurs, voice low and taunting. "Where all that mouth go, huh?"  

Your breath is shaky when you finally force yourself to move, spinning around so fast you nearly stumble back into the coffee table. But Jey—being the asshole that he is—catches your wrist, steadying you before you can escape.  

"Easy, ma," he says, voice smooth as hell. Too smooth. Like he’s amused. Like he’s enjoying this shit.  

Your heart pounds so hard it’s all you can hear.  

"I—" You blink, trying to get your shit together, trying to remember why you were mad in the first place. "You—You’re such a fucking ass, you know that?"  

Jey smirks, tilting his head slightly. "And you love it."  

His fingers are still wrapped around your wrist, his thumb absentmindedly stroking your skin, slow and deliberate. It sends a jolt of heat straight to your core, making your thighs clench on instinct.  

"N-no, I don’t," you lie, voice barely above a whisper.  

His grin deepens, eyes flicking down to your lips for a fraction of a second before meeting your gaze again.  

"Lyin’ ass."  

The tension is so thick you could choke on it.  

And Jey? He’s standing there, looking at you like he’s got all the time in the world, like he’s waiting on you to admit what you both already know.

"Fuck it," you mumbled, your voice breathy and shaky, almost like the words were ripped out of you against your will.  

You didn’t care anymore. Not about the stupid notebook. Not about the stupid tension. Not about the stupid fucking game Jey was playing, getting under your skin and twisting you up all at once.  

You dropped the notebook, not even thinking twice, and yanked him in by his collar, slamming your lips into his.  

It was hard. Demanding. The kind of kiss that’s all teeth and desperation. Like neither of you could wait another second to feel what this fucked-up energy between you really meant.  

Jey’s mouth moves against yours like he’s starving, all heat and tongue, and before you know it, his hands are on you—rough, unforgiving—grabbing your ass like it belongs to him, pulling you flush against him. The pressure of his grip sends a surge of heat straight through your body, your pussy throbbing in response.  

You moan against his lips as his fingers squeeze your ass, the sound barely escaping before he’s swallowing it down. He’s devouring your mouth, like he can’t get enough, like he’s wanted this for way too long and finally got what he wanted.  

You feel it in every inch of your body, that pull, that hunger. You feel his breath mixing with yours, the ragged way he’s breathing, the way his chest is rising and falling like he can’t keep up with what’s happening between you two.  

Your hands slide up to his chest, feeling the hard muscle beneath your palms, and for a split second, you think about pulling away—thinking you should stop before it gets too far. But the moment your hands find his neck and your fingertips dig into the back of his hair, you can’t think about anything but the way his body feels against yours.  

"Jey," you whisper, barely breaking the kiss, your lips swollen and breathless. "What are we doing?"  

He doesn’t answer, not with words anyway. He answers with another savage kiss, deep and messy, like he’s showing you exactly how far this has gone. And fuck, you don’t know if you’re ready for it, but you sure as hell don’t want it to stop.  

He pulls back just enough to look you in the eyes, his dark gaze searching yours like he’s reading every inch of you, figuring you out. You feel the weight of his stare.

“What we shoulda been did,” he murmurs lowly, voice rough as hell.  

And in that moment, you don’t need him to say anything else. You already know.

His body was fucking tense, like he was barely holding it together. You could feel the strain in his movements, the way his shorts were stretched tight, his muscles flexing with every shift. And damn, you could see it—his hard dick pressed up against them, making your heart race even faster.

Jey was barely keeping his cool, sweat beading down his forehead, his breaths coming out in sharp, heavy bursts. His hands slid down your sides, gripping your hips tight enough to leave marks, and you could see it in his eyes. He was struggling, trying not to lose control, but damn—he wanted to.

You felt the heat of the moment, the tension that was thick enough to choke, and then his voice broke through, low and rough. "Be a good girl and get yo knees fa me," he growled through gritted teeth, barely holding it back.

And fuck, those words hit you like a freight train. It was like a switch flipped in your brain, your body moving almost instinctively as if you already knew what was next. You didn’t even think about it—you just did.

Dropping to your knees, you looked up at him through your lashes, your gaze locking with his, and there it was. That darkness, that possessive hunger that always lurked just beneath the surface. Jey’s jaw was clenched, his hands gripping the back of your head for support, as if he needed it to stay steady.

His eyes roamed over you like he couldn’t believe you were really there, like you were some kind of temptation he couldn’t resist.

You took your time, letting the tension build between you as your fingers grazed his waistband. Slowly, you tugged his shorts down, watching them slip past his hips until they pooled at his ankles. The sight of him like that, completely exposed, made your breath hitch in your throat.

But you weren’t done.

You leaned in a little closer, your hands tracing down his thighs before sliding under the waistband of his underwear. You took a second, letting the moment drag out, before pulling those down too, inch by inch, until they joined his shorts on the floor.

His thick dick arched towards you, glistening slightly as if it had been waiting for this moment. The huge, meaty length, likely around nine inches, had a rosy tip that was already dripping with precum. 

As you traced your finger around the swollen tip, a deep moan escaped his lips. “Ugh, mama,” he murmured, sounding so fucking good. A low grunt rolled from him as you tightened your grip and began to move your hand, the sound of you stroking his wet, aching dick echoed in the living room. “Mmh, shit,” he breathed, tilting his head back.

You lean in, your heart racing, and place a gentle, wet kiss on the swollen, angry tip of his dick. The warmth of your lips sends shivers through his body, and without a moment's hesitation, his hips instinctively thrust forward, a reflex wanting for more. “F-f- fuck, please,” he breathes out, the desperate need in his voice sending a shock through you.

He tilted his head back, surrendering to the feeling moving through him. Veins bulged on his hands as he tangled them in your hair, desperately trying to mask the expressions that escaped him. With each flick of your tongue, his hips shuddered in response. Your other hand began a slow journey, trailing to his balls, where you gave a gentle squeeze, drawing out a gasp that escaped his lips as your mouth sucked him deeper.

You felt him hit the back of your throat, and a whimper slipped from him — a sound of pure need. The feeling made your pussy swell, your wetness pooling as you ground your hips against the fabric of your panties, craving more. 

You could feel his rough grip tightening in your hair, a mix of pleasure and desperation evident in his voice as he stuttered, “Mama —! SHIT, wait—.” His eyes widened, a clear sign of the overwhelming urge building inside him, a tidal wave of release.

But, rather than slowing down, you were only spurred on, sucking him harder while tightening your throat around him, matching the rhythm of your hand as it continued to tease and squeeze his balls. “Please— Mmmmm,” he moaned, pleasure erupting from deep within. Then, without warning, you felt it — a hot rush as he erupted, flooding your throat with warmth, each wave sending electric jolts of satisfaction through both of you.

Jey grabbed a fistful of your hair, yanking you up with barely any effort, his grip firm but not painful. Without saying a word, he pulled you toward the couch in two long strides, moving like he was in control of every inch of the space between you. 

His breath was still heavy, fanning against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine.  

"You know you don’t hate me, mama," he murmured in your ear, his voice low, thick with something dangerous. His lips brushed against your neck, slow and deliberate, like he had all the time in the world to make you fall apart.  

"You just hate that you want me," he added, his teeth grazing your skin between kisses, making your knees damn near buckle.  

You let out a shaky whimper, barely above a whisper. "Jey..."  

His grip on you tightened. "Yeah, baby?" he teased, like he knew exactly what he was doing to you.

You swallowed hard, your breath coming out shaky as your fingers gripped onto his arms for some kind of stability. His lips were still on your neck, warm, teasing, like he was waiting for you to say it.  

"F-fuck me... please," you finally breathed out, your voice barely above a whisper, but desperate enough for him to hear exactly what you needed.  

Jey pulled back just enough to look at you, his dark eyes flickering with something unreadable—something dangerous. His tongue swiped across his bottom lip, and for a moment, he just watched you, like he was letting your words settle, making sure you meant them.  

Then, his grip tightened, and he smirked. "That’s all you had to say, mama."

He flipped you around like it was nothing, hands firm on your waist, making sure you landed exactly where he wanted you—ass pressed up against him. Your hands hit the couch for balance, fingers gripping the fabric as your breath came out shaky.  

Jey didn’t rush. Nah, he took his time, dragging his fingers down your hips before slowly peeling your shorts and panties down, letting the cool air kiss your skin. It was deliberate, like he was making a point—like he wanted you to feel every second of it.

You arched for him without thinking, body reacting on its own, and he let out a low hum—like he liked what he saw, like he was taking a mental picture of the way you were laid out for him.  

Jey peeled off his shirt and tossing it aside, his warm hands running over your hips before he positioned himself right at your entrance.

Got you! Here’s a more suggestive but still steamy version:  

“Gonna be a good girl fa me and take this dick?” Jey rasped, his voice thick with need, his grip on your hips tightening. His teeth clenched like he was barely holding himself back.  

You barely had time to respond, a shaky “y-yes, I—” slipping from your lips before a gasp tore through you.  

“Oh my God—!”  

Your fingers dug into the couch as he pushed forward, taking his time, making sure you felt every inch of his meaty dick. He was ripping through the gummy walls of your pussy. The room felt hotter, the air thick with tension, his deep groan mixing with your breathy whimpers.

His movements grew rougher, more urgent, his grip firm as he drove deeper. Each thrust sent waves of heat through your body, the pressure making your breath hitch. The sound of his heavy balls meeting your clit filled the room, a rhythm that left no space for second thoughts.  

His low groans mixed with your breathy moans, his pace relentless, like he was set on making sure you felt every bit of him.

“Jey… J-Jeyyy,” you whimpered, voice breaking as he moved just right, hitting that perfect spot like he knew your body better than you did.  

A deep groan rumbled from his chest, rough and needy. “Yeah… lemme h-hear you, baby,” he murmured, voice thick with pleasure.  

Then he stilled, buried deep, making your breath hitch. His grip tightened as he leaned in, his next words dripping with heat. “You feel so. Fucking. Good, mama,” he growled, punctuating each word with a slow, deliberate roll of his hips, making sure you felt every inch of him.

Jey’s grip on your hair tightened, pulling you upward just enough to feel the strain in your back as you arched deeper. He fucked you so smooth, almost hypnotic, as each motion seemed to draw out all the tension that had built up between you both. His breaths grew heavier, as if every second was another release of the stress he’d been holding onto all day. 

You were both so close, the tension building, each of you chasing that same overwhelming release. Your body trembled as the pressure inside you built up to an unbearable peak.  

“Jey, I—oh god,” you moaned, your voice shaky as he moved with purpose, knowing exactly what you needed.  

“Mhm, give it to me, mama,” he murmured, his breath ragged. “I’m close too.”  

You let go, the wave of pleasure crashing over you, your body shuddering as the world around you blurred. Jey’s grip on you tightened as he followed, his rhythm slowing as he caught his breath, both of you lost in the aftermath. The air between you was thick, charged, like you were both coming down from something intense and raw.

Jey scooped you up like it was nothing, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. You could feel the heat of his skin pressed against yours, and everything felt so close, so right. You were exhausted, barely keeping your eyes open, but it didn’t matter. You just trusted him to take care of the rest.  

He didn’t even say a word—just held you tight and started walking, his hands steady on your ass as he carried you effortlessly. You didn’t even know where he was taking you, but you didn’t care. You were just so tired, so wrapped up in the feeling of him, the weight of your body melting against his.  

Then, he kicked open the bathroom door with one smooth motion, not even breaking a stride, like he’d done it a million times. He didn’t put you down, just shifted you slightly so you were still pressed against him as he turned the shower on. The sound of water filling the air was calming, almost like it was meant to wash away everything from the day.  

When he finally set you down, your legs wobbled slightly, but you steadied yourself, stepping into the shower as the warm water hit your skin. Jey followed you in, his hands never leaving your body as he stood close behind you, like he just couldn’t get enough of being near you.

You could feel yourself finally relaxing as Jey took over, the gentle motion of the washcloth gliding across your shoulders. His touch was soft but firm, like he knew exactly how to soothe you. When the cloth passed over your skin again, it lingered there for a second longer, and then, you felt his lips press a tender kiss to your shoulder. The soft foam of soap clung to his lips, but he didn’t seem to care. It was almost endearing in its own way.  

"Y’know, I always wanted this," he murmured, his voice hushed but full of intention as his fingers ran in slow circles on your back, the washcloth soothing your skin.  

Your stomach fluttered, and the feeling felt so real, so raw. You turned around to face him, meeting his eyes. His smirk was just enough for his grillz to flash in the low light, the mischievous glint in his eyes unmistakable.  

“Yeah… me too,” you admitted, the words coming out quieter than you expected.  

You realized then, maybe you never hated him the way you thought you did. Maybe the whole time, you wanted him so badly, you hated how much you needed him.  

Before you could overthink it, your hand reached up to his wet mullet, tugging him down toward you. Your lips met in a kiss, slow and lingering, as his hand moved to your ass, giving it a softer squeeze. There was no rush now. No tension. Just the feeling of being with him, finally, in a way you never expected. 

There’s just something about him that pisses you off. 

Something about the way he makes you love him.

🏷️: @luvrsluxe @skyesthebomb

[csprint]

hello fellow ahgase 💚 i freaking love your got7 work!!!! could you do their reaction to reader ignoring them and packing their bags as a prank?!

thank youuu 🫰🏻

mark:

ignores you back. he doesn’t know what he did to get you in a sudden mood and does not care at that point if he was already asking multiple times what was wrong. he’ll probably let you get as far as the driveway before asking you one more time. goes, “y/n, i’m giving you one more chance,” in a toneless, deep voice. use jinyoung pranking him as a reference. when you tell him it’s a prank, he’ll be very annoyed. probably continues to ignore you. you try to reassure him with hugs and sweet words while laughing and although he barely returns the affection, he doesn’t push you away.

jay b:

helps you pack your bags. you had been ignoring him all day but he’d catch on quicker thank you’d realize. he’s not easy to fool and you take offense to the fact that he’s helping you. really has the audacity to carry your bags to the door and before you ‘leave’ he’s going, “don’t forget to leave your key,” and lists off the different things you owe. probably even offers to pay for your plane ticket but that would be your breaking point and you’d have to tell him it was all a prank.

jackson:

he’s going with you. like, you’re not just going to ignore him and pack up your shit without giving him an explanation why. he wouldn’t allow it. so wherever you go, he’s going. doesn’t even care when you tell him it’s a prank. he’s gonna make sure that you know that leaving him is never an option.

jinyoung:

takes everything back out whenever you put something in your suitcase. packing your light jackets? he’d pick it out and toss it to the other side of the room. taking important documents? he’ll put it back where you originally stored it because why would you possibly need that?! he can do this all day. “y/n, do you have something you want to tell me?” hands firmly on his hips, his tone calm yet biting, and you know you would be taking it too far if you let this drag on any longer so you allow yourself to lock eyes with him until you break into a grin. realizes you had been pranking him. would be visibly annoyed but you can see as he’d relax, knowing you weren’t leaving him for real.

youngjae:

quietly watches you. tries to remember if there was an argument or if he said anything to upset you or if you’ve said anything about going on a trip. you probably couldn’t even complete the prank; the moment he sees you starting to pack your clothes, he looks torn, confused, and broken. you stop immediately and tell him that it’s just a prank and that you don’t even know why you thought it would be fun. he’ll laugh that charming laugh of his and call you mean but nonetheless pulls you into him for a bone-crushing hug.

bambam:

he doesn’t buy your act one bit so he’s acting chill. he’s always pranking you so you wanted to at least get him back in some way. “so when you’re done with that, do you want to try that new vietnamese restaurant?” “you think i’m joking. i’m really leaving you.” “okay. so we leave at 8.” but just in case, he would kiss your pout away to be fully sure it was just a prank and would not be able to hide the little sigh of relief when you kissed him back. you pull back, “ha! you did believe me.” playfully rolls his eyes, pushing you away.

yugyeom:

would try to reason with you, anything to make you stay and immediately takes the blame without fully knowing what was going on. that alone makes you want to give up but you try to drag the prank on a bit more, pulling your suitcase to door. but not before he’s beating you there and blocking the entrance, begging to know why you’re doing this. you laugh, despite the tears forming in his eyes and explain to him that you were pranking him. he’ll painfully laugh as well, falling against the door with his face hidden in his hands. allows you to take his hand and pull him into a hug. seriously cannot be playing like this with him. giants have feelings, too.

[hockeyboysimagines]

He was sunshine, I was

Midnight rain

Chapter 1

Pairings: Joseph Woll x Paige Winters

Warnings: angst, some fluff.

You asked. I answered.

Look for an Arber update this week! Let me know what you think!!

🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍

There are very few guarantees in life.

Death, Taxes, and the probability that your going to go through some shit at some point in your life are just a few.

In Paige’s case though, it seemed like she was never not going through shit. She couldn’t think of a time where the worst thing imaginable happened. If there was a sickness going around, she got it times 10. In the winter when the snow melted and froze over again if there was even a small patch of ice she found it and slipped on it. Anything that could go wrong, went wrong in her life. She was cursed.

Not really, but that’s how she felt sometimes.

She tapped a pencil on the pad of paper she was writing on and huffed, eyes moving towards the ceiling, noting the cobwebs that had accumulated in one of the corners.

Toothpaste

Coffee

Dish soap

That’s all she could remember she needed at the store as she glanced around at her near empty apartment and leaned back in her chair, frowning.

Toronto was nice, but it had already been 3 weeks and it still wasn’t feeling like home. If anything the longer she was away from her actual home it felt less like home than it already was. She didn’t have any real complaints, mostly just that Missouri was familiar and comfortable, and Ontario was not. The apartment was filled with boxes stacked two and three high, clothing was folded neatly on surfaces and her couch and loveseat was still covered by plastic. The only thing she’d unpacked besides clothing and toiletries was her bed. Everything else remained boxed and labeled. Once she unpacked those boxes the harsh reality that she wasn’t going home anytime soon would become real. She didn’t hate Canada, but she didn’t love it either.

She’d been putting it off as long as she could, because she was still holding out hope that she’d wake up from this back home in a bed in her dads house and not alone in a foreign empty space.

She dropped the pen and went searching for her coat.

Though it was still new, she’d been out in the city enough to have a general lay of the land. She’d gotten the idea of what was where and how to get there. The first day she’d gotten so flustered and lost she’d pulled over and had a complete breakdown, until someone had knocked on her window and asked if she was okay. They’d showed her on the gps where she went wrong and soon enough she’d found her way back to her apartment. After that she ventured out on foot first, and then after a week driving around was just second nature. It wasn’t anything like back home, but it wasn’t as daunting as it had been a few weeks ago either. She’d even been close enough to a store to travel on foot if she only needed a few things.

Now that she’d faced that, she could face unpacking a few boxes.

She promised herself in the mirror she would unpack the minute she got home. Rip the bandaid right off no matter how bad it hurt.

She pulled her jacket on, and slipped her feet into shoes, hooking a finger through the key rings and she pulled her door shut behind her. The hallways were mostly empty as she made her way to the elevator and inside. She pulled out her phone to answer a message from her dad, who she swore had a 6th sense, and assured him she wasn’t sitting inside her apartment sulking and moved out of the elevator when it landed eyes still on the phone.

Had she been paying attention she would have seen him coming.

She was almost knocked off balance by a large body hitting hers with enough force to make her stumble, but when two large hands shot out to grab her she was able to catch herself.

“Oh my god I’m so-“

I know that voice.

She looked up slowly to find a large pair of familiar blue eyes.

No fucking way.

The stranger, who wasn’t a stranger at all, stared for a second before a large smile stretched across his face.

“Paige?”

That voice warmed her soul in ways she wasn’t sure it could be.

Joseph Woll had been someone once upon a time. There was people who came around and stayed for a short while, and there were people who stayed for a long while.

He was the second kind.

When Paige was 4, her parents divorced. It had been an long ugly process, and she could still remember the way they screamed at one another during the custody hearing. By the time she was almost 5 the divorce had gone through officially. Her dad had gotten weekend visitation so she could stay in school and live at her moms during the week. Her mom had cried and put on a good show, but the truth of the matter was her mom really didn’t want her, she wanted the child support she would receive for having her more than her dad would. It had started out fine, she was still looked after and taken care of. On Friday afternoons her mom would drop her at her dads in the driveway and Sunday afternoons her dad would send her back. Leaving him every Sunday was the worst.

She counted down the days each Monday to Friday afternoons. Weekends at her dads were filled with fun, adventure and afternoons spent with the boy next door.

He’d been her first friend. At school the other kids who came from happy two parent households didn’t have time for the shy girl who didn’t. She kept mostly to herself instead waiting for weekends so she could see Joe instead.

Slowly over time the Friday afternoons started a little earlier and the Sundays got later and later. Before long, rather than being dropped off, her dad was picking her up from school, her mom wasn’t coming for her until dinner. Once her mom met Rob, her new boyfriend, things changed a little faster. He was nice to her but even at 6 Paige could see they didn’t really want her there. And when she was there she was left in the care of a nanny or a babysitter for most of the time. Rob was always taking her mom to dinner, on trips, out shopping, all without Paige. Which made weekends with her dad even more special.

But the most special thing about them was Joe. He’d knock on the door Friday at 4:30 like clockwork and they’d stay out till it was too dark to see anymore, sometimes in his backyard and sometimes in hers. During the winter her dad would take them to the hill at the end of the block and they’d sled down it for hours, till their noses were frozen and their clothing was soaked. As spring and summer came, they’d camp out in the backyard in a tent they found in the Woll’s garage. They’d ride bikes around the block till their legs cramped, and spent the hottest afternoons at the pool before they walked home together stopping for a drink at the store. Shed even went to the beach with the Wolls once, a place she’d never been before. She’d never forget him watch her step into the ocean for the first time. She still had the shells and sand they’d collected sealed in a jar somewhere. Laughter, fun, light were the three words she’d use to describe her memories with him.

When Paige turned 7, her mom dropped her at her dads house, said goodbye and drove away. But on Sunday evening her mom hadn’t returned. Her dad had put her in the car to make the 30 minute drive but when they got there they discovered the house locked, and a for sale sign in the front yard.

Paige felt nothing but relief and went to bed on a Sunday evening with a smile on her face for the first time.

It took a week of speaking with lawyers, and rearranging custody but by the following Monday she was officially moved in and getting ready for her first day of school. She was so nervous standing there in front of the school until she heard her name.

“Paige!”

She turned to find Joe jogging up to her with a big smile “Come on. Come meet my friends.” He grabbed her hand and tugged her along behind him and that was it. Her nerves disappeared, and she made friends in the first 5 minutes. Year by year, grade by grade she made friendships with people, tried new things, stepped out of her comfort zone time and time again. She started her life completely over, and changed from a shy sad little girl, to a girl who could do anything.

And it was all because of him.

She felt tears prick at her eyes as he pulled her in for a tight hug, chin resting on the top of her head. Her eyes slid closed as she hugged him back, smiling at the rumble in his chest when she heard him speak again.

“Where did you come from?” He was still smiling when she pulled back to look at him. He looked exactly the same, right down to the light that always seemed to shine behind his eyes and even when was at her lowest. He had always been a candle in the dark to her, a safe place she could go when she was feeling down or scared.

“I live here now. I just moved three weeks ago.”

“You-what?! You live here. Paige that’s amazing. How are you?”

Paige wiped at the tears under her eyes “Better now.”

Everything she hated about Toronto suddenly didnt seem so bad. Her spirits soared higher than they had in a long time. She felt happy, something she’d been missing for a long time.

“I was just thinking about you the other day.” He looked mildly disappointed for a second before he cleared his throat “I’m sorry I haven’t kept in touch it’s been-“

Paige waved him off “You don’t have to apologize. The phone works both ways. I could have kept in touch too.”

“I know I just. I wish I-I wish-“

Paige cracked a smile and giggled “I’m not mad, just-come here.” She wrapped her arms around his midsection and let out a long breath.

It had been nearly 7 years since she’d seen him. The last time was Christmas and it had been fleeting leaving a bland taste in her mouth. She had caught him as he was leaving and she was coming home and they’d spoken briefly. She would have spent more time with him if she’d known it was the last. After that it seemed like they were never in the same place. When he was home, she was somewhere else. When she was home he was back on whatever team he was playing for. Talk about 7 years bad luck.

Still none of that mattered anymore. What mattered was they were both in the same place now.

“Wait do you live in this complex?” He said from somewhere above her. He still had his arms wrapped around her shoulders, squeezing her tightly.

“Yes, on the third floor.”

“Shut UP!” He exclaimed, jumping back, grabbing her shoulders and giving her a shake “Me too! I live in 3F so like the right side of the hall but two doors down from the elevator.”

“I’m in 3A at the beginning of the hall.”

“So we’re kind of neighbors- neighbors adjacent. Neighbor’s across the hall.”

Paige smiled “Sure. I was just heading to the store. Wanna come…neighbor?” She added hopefully. She was hoping he wasn’t busy, or meeting anyone. Now that she’d seen him, she just wanted to hold on to any time with him she could. He’d been absent in her life for so long she would take what she could get.

“Is that even a question? Of course I want to come.”

Being around him again made her feel lighter than she had in a long time.

Her last few years without him had been tough to say the least. Paige had always been complicated, more than even he knew. The war that waged in her head sometimes felt like she was carrying around more baggage than a person should. Her self esteem which had always been lower than average had plummeted in the last few years and what she was sure was depression took its place. Sometimes she felt light as a feather and full of joy. And some days she felt so bad she could barely get out of bed. But today felt different.

Seeing him had turned on a light that had been out for a long time. Once upon a time Joe had brought her out of a very thick shell. Maybe he could do it again.

“So how has everything been? I saw your dad when I was home over thanksgiving break. I asked about you.” He said glancing at her.

“I heard. I wasn’t feeling the best during thanksgiving and took some time away for a few days. I was going to reach out but I figured it had been so long you might not want to hear from me.”

“What?” He stopped walking and she slowed down before turning to face him “of course I would’ve liked to hear from you. Why would you ever think I wouldn’t?” He looked confused.

She shrugged “I don’t know. It had been so long with no contact just figured maybe we weren’t friends anymore.” She trailed off glancing at him.

He looked confused “No way. We’ve been friends for so long it would take a lot for that. And now that we’re in the same place again, your stuck with me. Or else.” He winked at her and she felt herself blush, and cleared her throat.

“So your a superstar now I see.”

“Nooooo.” He said waving his hand at her “Not quite.”

“Oh yeah?” She said quirking an eyebrow “Explain that.” She was pointing at a giant screen print of his face splashed across the window of a sporting goods store next to portraits of his other teammates.

He blushed “Well. I guess kind of. Here anyways.”

“Don’t pretend your not proud.” She elbowed him “You should be. You worked hard to get here.”

“Speaking of.” He said changing the subject and coughing to get rid of the redness on his face “If your up to it. We have a game on Saturday. Maybe we can do dinner Friday and catch up and you can come. If not then that’s fine-totally no pressure if it’s too much too soon and I-“ he was rambling but Paige cut him off.

“Sure.”

“Wait really? You wanna come?”

“Of course. Why wouldn’t I?”

“Oh I don’t know? Could be overwhelming or I could lose, or totally embarrass myself which I’m gonna do if I don’t stop talking. But great. I’m glad you want to come. I’d love that.” He gave her a once over and smiled “You look exactly the same.”

“I don’t know about that.”

“I do.” He gave her a long look “How are you doing though. Really.”

“I’m alright. I am!” She said when he made a face “Better than I was a few weeks ago at least. But today, I’m great. Maybe this place isn’t so bad after all.” She elbowed him as they reached the store.

Grocery shopping with him was exactly what she’d expected. He wandered away, slowed her down, and was recognized in every aisle but she was having the time of her life. In the last few years, she could think of only a few times she’d actually had a good day. This day would make up for all those bad days.

The continued their trip, chatting away like they’d never lost any time together until they came back to the complex and parted ways, making sure they had each others current numbers before making plans for dinner.

When he shut the door behind him a large smile spread across his face.

Gosh was it nice to see her. He thought about Paige all the time. She had been his closest friend for so long and then just vanished like she’d never been there at all. It had hurt, but he had always hoped she would come back. And then year after year she got further and further away from him.

Paige had always been like a maze. One where the walls were continuously moving and changing depending on the day. And while he’d known her half his life, she’d always been a bit of a mystery to him.

Having her as a part of his life had been the bestz He had known her so long he honestly couldn’t remember her not being his friend. And all it took was a knock on her door.

He’d been so curious about the girl who sporadically appeared at the house next door on the weekends and then was gone during the week. He only knew her name, Paige, and when he’d asked his mom about her she’d only encouraged him to ask her to play. She’d been so shy back then, the only reason she came outside at all being that her dad made her. But within the hour they were riding bikes around the street like they’d know each other for years. Every Sunday she’d go home, and he’d wait patiently all week for her to return and the crumbs would go on like that for years. Until one day, she never went home. He’d been so excited to get to see her everyday he had never even thought about if it bothered her that her mom abandoned her that way.

He had so many good memories with her it would take days to tell those stories. Things back then were so easy before life got in the way, they both got busy, he got drafted and moved away and that had been the end of it really.

He had always still cared about her and he had no real reason for losing touch. It felt kind of dumb now when he thought about it. Maybe if he’d made an effort more, they wouldn’t have lost so much time.

But that wasn’t important anymore. What was important was that she was here now.

He hit the FaceTime button for his mom, waiting while it rang and when she answered he said.

“Guess what.”

“Hello son, I’m great how are you doing?”

He rolled his eyes “Mom. Guess what.”

“What?”

“Paige is here in Toronto.”

His moms mouth fell open and she peered at him over her glasses “Paige? Paige Winters?”

“Yes.”

“Shutup she is not.”

He rolled his eyes and nodded “Yes she is. I saw her today.”

“No WAY!” She said slapping the table “I thought her dad said Texas not Toronto. How is she? Did you talk to her? Tell her I said-“

“Woah woah hold it. One thing at a time. She’s been here three weeks, in Toronto not Texas. She seems okay, but a little sad. We made plans for tomorrow. I’ll tell her you said hi. Did I get all that?”

“Don’t be smart. How is she doing really I mean though? She’s been through a lot.”

It was true. While Paige really came out of her shell when she moved to her dads, Joe sometimes felt like she never really faced the trauma that came from being essentially ditched by your mom at random and then never seeing her again. Though they’d been as close as close can be, he always suspected he never saw the true Paige. Like there was always something under the surface that he’d never seen. He could tell sometimes that her smile didn’t reach her eyes, or her laugh sounded hollow. He never spoke about it but her eyes sometimes were red from crying. He’d always wanted to ask and be there for her, but for her privacy he never questioned what was wrong. She would tell him if she wanted him to know and since she hadn’t he wouldn’t ask.

In the long run, being ditched, was the best thing for Paige at the time, but it still had to hurt her a little. He did what he could to help her recover, but that was wound that might never heal. Either way he never brought it up unless she did and the last time it had been talked about, they were 16 and sitting on the hood of Joe’s car in the driveway.

“Are you ready for school?” He asked as he watched a bat fly across the moon.

Paige shook her head “No. and don’t ruin our last few weeks of summer talking about school.”

He held up his hands “Sheesh sorry.”

Paige breathed out a laugh and closed her eyes “Do you think we’ll always be friends?”

He turned and looked at her with his eyebrows furrowed “Do you?”

“I hope so.”

“Of course we’re always going to be friends. Why wouldn’t we be? We’ve been friends since that very first day I ever saw you. Right there.” He pointed at a spot in the street where her m used to park and tell her to get out. She never even stepped foot in the driveway on drop off days.

Paige smiled “I’m glad you remember that because I don’t. I just remember being so relieved to be away from her.”

Joe was quiet. Paige didn’t bring up her mom hardly ever, and when she did he treaded very carefully.

“Do you ever hear from her?” He finally asked.

She shook her head “Not since she said goodbye and pulled away from the curb. I don’t really have any interest in hearing her out though. I mean who does that?”

“I mean I don’t know her or how she was but I do know that any normal parents wouldn’t do that.”

“Exactly. She was never a nice person. She didn’t want me, she just didn’t want my dad to have me. I hope she’s pleased with herself.”

“I hope she gets VD.”

Paige looked at him quickly and burst out laughing “I can’t believe you just said that.”

“I can’t either. It’s true though. Whatever the most painful one is. That’s the one she deserves.”

Paige smiled and closed her eyes “Your my best friend. You know that right?”

He smiled and leaned back on the sofa, glancing out his window after he ended the call with his mom, promising to pass on a hello message from her. Paige being back in his life had really thrown him a curve ball.

It was so nice to have her-

But the shrill ring of his phone snapped him out of his daydream and he saw his screen light up displaying ASHLEY across the screen.

Ashley

She wasn’t casual, but she wasn’t serious either. She had been somewhere in between for around a month now and while she wasn’t his “girlfriend” she was close enough.

And he’d forgotten all about her.

She was a nice girl, very pretty and got along well with pretty much everyone she’s come in contact with that he knew, but he wasn’t crazy about her. He liked her, sure, but if he was being honest she definitely wasn’t “the one” or at least not yet anyways. Maybe one day she could become, but if she was he figured he’d know it by now. Then again though his perception of love might have been skewed because he’d never felt it. And he wasn’t convinced she was at all if he hadn’t even remembered she was around.

And then he felt bad that he hadn’t.

He let it ring and go to voicemail, staring at the phone.

This could get awkward real fast.

The phone screen went dark and then lit up again signaling a missed call and a text message.

He did not answer.

[dare-writes]

Sorry, did you say something?

Tom crash out, but you get your revenge.

tom ryder x female reader 

genre: fluff at the end, smut; 18+ MINORS DNI

wc: 1.7k

sexual content warnings: female!reader, tom ryder being tom ryder, reader gets their revenge, ignoring kink, reader takes a phone call during sex, exhibitionism, kind of mirror sex, implied face sitting, implied oral sex (f receiving), (m) edging, (f) overstimulation, good boy tom ryder, Miss kink, praise kink !! In relation to I'm Sorry, Miss

__

Tom did his best—all the time. No, he was at his best at all times. He was the best. You knew that all too well, being on the receiving end of the tirade of his amazingness while those who worked for him were insolent and incapable of executing his plans for brilliance. It was always a battle with Tom Ryder. 

It was customary for Tom to go off his rocker with anyone.: his assistant, his makeup artist, his hair stylist, and even his dialect coaches. But to go off on you is an entirely different thing. A freelance editor who he saw online and hand-picked himself. For some reason, the first time Tom attacks you for your lack of integrity, it sets something off.

It’s been a year since you two started working together; you’ve never disagreed this greatly.

“This concept is boring! God, It puts me to sleep. The fans would be uninterested, and I know it because I am! You’re putting me to bed with that shit!” you get your payback quickly.

Not one person would expect Tom Ryder to be a whiny bitch in bed. The crew would assume he was just a bitch that whines everywhere he went and that he got his way and dominated the bedroom.

Instead, while he fucked into you from behind, you were working on your laptop. The mirror in front of the bed that Tom strategically installed wasn’t even helping. Watching your breasts move while he pounded into you, watching your face twist in pleasure as he worked his ‘Ryder Magic’ inside you, were some of his most incredible parts about the mirror.

The bulbous cockhead dragged along your walls, poking and prodding around until he found the spot that he knew gave you the most pleasure. Tom hated this, all of it! The best he got out of you was just a grunt. It didn’t even sound pleasant! 

What obscured the mirror reflection vision from your lovely tits and face while he fucked away was the laptop in front of you. Tom couldn’t believe it; you were editing away as you simultaneously began working on his promotion scheduling on your phone. 

You liked this plan; the even more strategic laptop placement hid your smiles and slightly gaping expression as he brushed against your g-spot perfectly. Tom Ryder whined, cried, and begged. 

A strangled cry falls past Tom’s lips, “Miss… Miss, please, please pay attention to me.” 

He was entirely naked; even his stupid sunglasses were discarded on the nightstand, his arms were flexing as he held your hips, and his fingers were leaving crescent moons in the soft of your hips. Tom’s grown-out bleached hair was sweat-drenched, and he just kept on whining. 

“Miss! Please, I need to cum…” 

Quiet followed until you laughed and continued to type on your phone, taking a quick break from work. Tom tried to catch a glimpse of the phone screen but failed each time. 

I love when he’s being a whiny thing.

Lucky, I need a movie star who cries while we have sex.

R u busy?

stfu, what

r u busy?

no?

Promise me you won’t record. 

What?

Promise me. You, state your name, will not record anything for the next hour while on the phone with me. State my name. If you do, you will be subjected to a court of law. 

You smiled as you got the mystery contract signed. You knew your best friend wouldn’t. TMI was thrown out the window back in college when she demonstrated how she had sex on a bunk bed with some guy. 

The cell phone began ringing, an impending call to be answered. At the sound of the trilled ring, Tom stopped.

“Miss.. what. What are you doing?”

The phone call picked up. Fear and panic rose in Tom, but he also was intrigued. He tried to lean and peer over your shoulder. Fucking privacy screen, of course, you had one. 

His hand lifted to wipe his sweaty hair off his forehead. His voice trembled as he asked, “Miss… stop, what are you doing?” 

Your eyes glared up into the mirror. An onset glare made him push through. His cock slowly returned to thrusting in and out, encased by hot, gummy walls. 

“You are mean,” your friend said on the other end. 

“What are you talking about?” you asked as Tom sped up. His whimpering and whining quieted immediately. Tom moved his hands to soften the sound of their skin slapping against each other. 

Your eyes flickered up in the mirror as Tom fucked and fucked into you. Tom was losing all composure; Tom just wanted to be acknowledged more than a glance or glare. His hands held the fold of your hips, and his nails dug into your skin. The sound of skin slapping skin returned, filling the room and likely the phone call you took. His lips pursed shu while his throat continued to emit grunts.

Admittedly, you had finished twice already. Tom suffocated between your thighs as you sat above him previously, and second when he begged to touch you as he fucked you. His fingers were gentle and teetered you on the edge, primarily fearful (and eager) that you would say something and take control of the entire situation.

Instead, here he was, edged yet overstimulated, crying, his nails leaving marks across your hips. Here you were, ignoring him, on the phone and working on another project for another job you had.

Your phone call, on the other hand, was quite enjoyable but too quiet, involving Tom’s crying and begging. “Are you ignoring him?” 

“Who?” You felt a twitch inside you. At his subtle slowing pace, you shoved your hips back into him harshly; Tom cried out.

“Bitch, I can hear him crying.”

“Who’s crying?” You asked. Your eyes flicked back up and met Tom’s eyes in the mirror. “I’m alone tonight.”

“You’re toxic, and I never want to have sex with you.”

“I wish I were having sex right now. Are you kidding? I’m bored. So far, my night is unexciting and uninteresting,” you open your mouth to induce a long yawn. “Honestly, I’m being put to fucking bed with how boring my nights are going right now.”

That was it. That was his breaking point. His cock was continuously twitching inside, and you could feel how close he was. You could see the way his neck vein was popping, and his eyes were squeezed shut. Through gritted teeth, “Hang up,” said Tom. 

You kept talking, asking how your friend's day was going. When you did nothing, your friend’s voice crackled on the call, “Do you need to hang up?”

“No, why?” 

“Miss… miss, please,” Tom whined, his voice shrill and weak. 

“Miss? Does he want a threesome? I can be momm-“

You rolled your eyes and slammed your laptop shut. “I’ll call you back later.” 

The phone disconnected, and Tom bent down, his sweat-sticky chest to your back, and whispered into your ear. “Miss… miss, I need to cum.”

Your voice, loud and heart,y responded, “Sorry, did you say something?” 

Tom cried, his lips kissing the shell of your e.ar “Cum…please let me cum inside.”

“Do whatever you want, Tom,” you said uncaringly. Several willful pulsing squeezes around him did it for him. No more than a few seconds later, cum is pumped inside with a withering moan from your boyfriend. Instead of continuing to ignore him, you lied down. Tom followed quickly, lying down beside you, and pulled your back into his face to hold close. His arms wrapped around you, one for your waist and the other for your chest. 

Damp streaks of tears cooled your blazing hot body down. Tom was crying or had been crying from overstimulation.

“Miss… I’m sorry for what I said,” he sniffled. “I didn’t mean it… I took my anger out on you when I shouldn’t have, and my anger wasn’t towards you.” 

Your hand reached up and patted his head softly with a firm kiss to his bicep that wrapped around your body. “You need to work on your emotions and a way to verbalize them in a healthy manner.”

“I know… I Don't know how. People want verbalized emotions, but it builds up, and then I’m mean and rude.” Tom’s voice was muffled, his drool-covered lips pressed against your mid back as he tried to convey his feelings. 

“Well, look into another way, you and I can.” 

“Promise?”

“Of course, Tom.” 

“Can you call me it, please?” His voice asked quietly. Of course, you would. He was still your boyfriend.

You turned in his arms and looked down at him. His face is tucked just above your breasts now. “You did such a good job apologizing to me. Thank you, baby.”

Tom huffed when you skipped over the part he wanted. “You’re my good boy, aren’t you?” 

His huffy and red face in between your breasts, “Yes. I am.” 

“I love you, Tom.” You leaned down and kissed his sweaty forehead gently with a soft hum.

“I love you too,” he said, smiling against your sternum.

[baekuras]

i may have been dying due to period pain and with that gotten a longer weekend off than usual

but god damn

i am more refreshed than if i had worked as normal qwq

[mrmeepsmadmind]

they are ignoring my big beautiful pathetic himbo wife and his cute little platypus tail that he has for some tank part reason im too dumb to understand why

[angelnumber27]

I dont think some people understand how truly awful and hellish withdrawals from some psych medications are.

[squisheebugdoodles]

Okay Here Is The Problem: everything costs money and yet money is something that i just literally never have. solution? kill the idea of money so that nothing costs anything Please. i'm so tired

[lupins-hehim-pussy]

I think of so many stupid shenanigans between Wriothesley and his daughters in the Addison Lee verse. They tell Wriothesley crazy shit all the time, their daddy-daughter secrets, and it drives Neuvillette nuts that Wriothesley won't snitch.

Sigewinne, whispering into his ear: Today at school I punched a boy because he was being mean. I waited until it was recess, and made sure that no one was watching, and I punched him. Everyone knows he is a liar, so noooo one believed him when he cried about it. And Sigewinne is aaaalways a superstar so Mr Vautrin didn't suspect a thing !

Wriothesley, mildly concerned: Uh huh.

Sigewinne: Papa would say Sigewinne has to be nice to everyone, but, Sigewinne thinks bullies need to get punched sometimes, b'cos, b'cos otherwise, they think everyone is just gonna let them be mean

Wriothesley: Y'know what. That's fair

[lucabyte]

🐮