#oh and guys. did you know that there's a limit to the amount you can put in one blockquote? that's why the rest is just left like that caus

[arklay]

RESIDENT EVIL → THE WESKER FAMILY

To the public, little is known of the families behind some of the world’s most renowned bioterrorists, but the question remains: did they play a role in causing their children to walk down the path that they did? Or are these individuals simply ambitious criminals with delusions of grandeur?

For Diana Wesker (née Afanasyeva), her introduction into the bioweapons black market trade was upon discovering her employers were using her research into limb regeneration with salamanders to further their experiments in creating enhanced soldiers, instead of developing human therapies with which she was recruited for. Although the prospect of using biological weapons in the military did not appeal to her, the concept remained fascinating for her own selfish endeavours. Born on the 27th of October, 1963 in Sydney, Australia to Russian immigrant parents, Diana had harsh expectations placed upon her at a young age, ones that no matter how hard she tried she could never live up to. Her mother, Tatyana, was an unfeeling woman, absent for long stretches of time with little regard to how it affected her daughters, much more concerned with her craft as an accomplished opera singer. Viktor was no better. A strict man whose role as father and ballet master blurred, he pushed his girls to one day follow in his footsteps. Whilst Sofia enjoyed ballet, and went on to become a professional ballet dancer, Diana’s heart was set on going into the field of biology. She wished to make a name for herself, separate from her family – to which she succeeded.

Diana was married to former U.S. Marine, Dave Monroe, for only a year until he was declared dead in 1992 after succumbing to injuries sustained in a horrific car accident. Foul play was ruled out while Diana played the role of the grief-stricken widow, but in reality, she had snapped after years of mistreatment at her husband’s hands, and opted for something she could pass off as an accident to be free of him. For years she believed he was dead – and he was, legally – but that proved to not be the case when he found his way back into her life again in 1999. Unbeknownst to her, she had been lied to by the police and coroner, who were paid off by her employers when they took Dave’s body for themselves and used him as one of their first test subjects in developing supersoldiers. Before he could ever hurt her again, Diana’s second husband, Albert Wesker, tracked the man down, captured him and tortured him, before allowing Diana to get her violent and bloody revenge.

The origins of Albert Wesker’s involvement in bioterrorism, alongside his twin sister, Alex, are much different than that of Diana’s. The two hail from London, Canada, but unfortunately, they hold no memories of their lives there, nor what happened to their biological parents when they were eight years old. Agents of Oswell E. Spencer, an aristocratic billionaire and eugenicist, took the twins from their home and executed their parents as per Spencer’s orders. Albert and Alex were then placed in a home funded by the Spencer Foundation where they were given new names and a privileged upbringing. They had access to the best education possible, free to pursue whichever field they decided, but it was by no accident they both went into virology and bioengineering; at home, their adoptive parents – agents whom they believed to be their real parents – instilled them with the beliefs of Oswell E. Spencer, harbouring disdain for war and pestilence, and believing humans to be an evolutionary dead-end in need of a rebirth. They were only two of the hundreds of children “adopted” as part of what is known as Project W, a plan intended to develop an advanced race of human beings. The most promising candidates were headhunted by Umbrella Pharmaceuticals, the twins amongst them, where they went on to create bioweapons for the company founded by none other than the man who had handpicked them for his plan. The final stage of this was to infect the thirteen Spencer saw fit, however, only two survived; Albert received the intended effects, now possessing superhuman abilities, however, Alex was only offered more time to live due to her terminal degenerative illness.

In the summer of 1995, Diana was working undercover within Umbrella to gather development data on their projects for her company. Here, she had a chance encounter with Albert, an intelligence officer at the time, which permanently altered the course of her life. The two were never seen far from one another’s side, marrying in 1998, and they went on to become notorious in the bioweapons industry. The development of the Uroboros virus was where things took a turn for the worst. Although Diana’s infection was successful and she bore abilities that rivalled her husband’s, the plan itself did not succeed as they had hoped, and almost cost Albert his life at the hands of his former subordinates.

Now, they work within the shadows, with Diana declared missing and Albert believed to be dead. Their legacy, however, lives on with the mark they left on the world. As visionaries in their field, they influenced bioterror attacks carried out by countless individuals and organisations. In turn, they also inspired others to fight against such atrocities. One such person happens to be Albert’s son from a former relationship, Jake Müller, whose existence he was unaware of.

[kwilquib]

We can't be Friends Anymore

Yuqi (🐶) x Male Reader (📖)

switching pov

Word Count: 13.6k

a/n: tried experimenting with switching pov in 2nd person, and testing some dividers format.

The campus hums—students sprawl on the lawn or dart between classes. You’re propped against the library railing, nursing a half-hearted coffee, when familiar faces roll up.

“Yo, isn’t Yuqi your friend?” one of them asks, a little too casually.

You already know where this is going.

“She is,” you confirm, watching as they exchange looks.

“So, she’s actually single?” another cuts in, voice skeptical. “No hidden boyfriend? No messy situationship?”

You snort, shaking your head. “Nope. No secret anything. Just her and her oversized ego.”

That seems to encourage them. Someone whistles low. “Damn. Think I got a shot?”

You pretend to consider it. “Honestly? Go for it.”

That gets a reaction—a few surprised laughs, one guy nudging the other in mock encouragement.

“I mean it,” you continue, shrugging. “Might do her some good to have someone other than textbooks and late-night ramen occupying her brain. She hyper-fixates way too much on school.”

“She does look kinda intense,” one of them admits.

“Oh, she’s a menace,” you say easily. “But here’s the thing—Yuqi’s also insanely narcissistic. If you confess to her, she’d eat that up. She lives to be reminded how pretty she is.”

That earns a round of laughter.

“So you’re saying I should just walk up to her, tell her she’s gorgeous, and I’m in?”

You smirk. “Depends. Can you handle being ignored for two weeks when she gets too busy? Or her texting you at 2 AM just to brag about an exam score?”

The guy groans. “Yeah, nah. I don’t have the mental strength for that.”

Another one shakes his head. “Dude, why’s it sound like you’re feeding us to the wolves?”

You lift a brow. “Hey, you’re the ones asking.”

They chuckle, muttering something about how Yuqi’s beauty really is a waste if she’s just gonna be married to academia forever. You don’t think much of it—this isn’t the first time people have asked you about her, and it won’t be the last.

Besides, it’s not like it matters to you.

“Asking about what?”

The voice cuts through the conversation, unmistakable and laced with curiosity.

You don’t even have to turn around. You already know.

Yuqi stands there, arms crossed, one brow raised in that signature I-know-you’re-up-to-something expression. She looks effortlessly put together despite probably running on four hours of sleep and an unreasonable amount of caffeine. Her oversized hoodie hangs loosely off one shoulder, and she’s got that ever-present glint of amusement in her eyes—sharp, calculating, and just a little too pleased with catching you off guard.

The group stiffens. One guy actually takes half a step back, like she might call him out by name.

You take your time, sipping your drink before finally acknowledging her. “Oh, nothing much. Just these guys wondering if you’re single and available.”

Her gaze flicks toward them, slow and deliberate.

“Hmm.” She taps her chin, pretending to think. “And? What did you tell them?”

You smirk. “Told them to go for it. That you’d love being reminded how pretty you are.”

Yuqi scoffs, but you don’t miss the way her lips twitch upward. “Wow. Advertising me like I’m a limited-time offer?”

“I mean, you are in high demand.”

She tilts her head, feigning boredom. “And yet, nobody’s brave enough to try.”

The guys exchange awkward laughs, none of them willing to step up to the challenge. One clears his throat and mutters something about being late for class before they all make a quick exit, leaving just you and Yuqi standing there.

She watches them go, then turns back to you, unimpressed. “You really have zero faith in my love life, huh?”

“Not my fault your standards are ridiculous.”

“They’re not ridiculous,” she argues, flicking a piece of lint off her sleeve. “They’re refined.”

You shake your head, chuckling. “Whatever you say, Your Highness.”

She hums, studying you for a second too long. Then, with a smirk, she leans in slightly. “And what about you?”

You blink. “What about me?”

Yuqi’s grin sharpens. “Would you confess to me?”

She’s teasing, tossing it out like it’s nothing—just another jab in your years-long game.

So why does it land heavier this time?

“Hello??” She waves a hand in front of your face. “Stop zoning out like you’re actually thinking about it— are you?”

“Hell no,” you shoot back, forcing a laugh. “I know you’re full of yourself, but that’s taking it too far.”

She scoffs, crossing her arms. “Right. As if you could handle me anyway.”

‘God, she’s so annoying.’

She’s good-looking—annoyingly so. The kind of person who doesn’t even have to try. But when she does, she’s exceptional. Yuqi never settles. If she can push herself further, she will. She likes to joke that her father drilled perfectionism into her at three years old. You believe it. It shows in the way she studies, the way she carries herself, the way she acts like the world should revolve around her—and sometimes, it almost does.

You met her at the start of college—multiple run-ins on the same day. Apparently, that was enough for her to decide you were friends. From then on, Yuqi stuck around, pulling you into her orbit.

Rumors, of course, followed. They always do. But your relationship with Yuqi wasn’t that. Never that. It wasn’t shallow, like something you could fall in and out of, love or hate.

Best friends. Neither too close nor too distant. Something steady. Something comforting.

…Or at least, it should’ve been.

~🐶~

“Then… I can live with you.”

The words cut through the gentle hum of the café, slipping into the space between you and her without warning.

Yuqi, halfway through savoring a forkful of cake, stilling at the sudden proposition. The sweetness on her tongue dulls as her mind processes what she just heard.

Outside, the streetside view stretches beyond the window, pedestrians weaving through the early evening rush, neon signs flickering to life. It had been a peaceful moment—her, indulging in dessert, the warm glow of café lights, the casual murmur of other patrons.

And then that.

Her gaze snaps up, eyebrows slightly raised. She had been so focused on her food, on the comforting ritual of eating something sweet after a long day, that she almost forgot she wasn’t sitting here alone.

Across from her, you sit, arms crossed, looking entirely too casual for someone who just threw out a life-altering suggestion.

“…What?” Her fork hovers, eyes narrowing as she rewinds the last five minutes. Housing gripes, sure. Minnie’s betrayal, yeah. But this? “Hold up—did you just say live with me? Where the hell did that come from?”

“You just said it a minute ago, aren't you in trouble because you got stood up?”

Yuqi clicks her tongue at the memory, the taste of betrayal lingering far worse than the cake melting on her tongue.

Minnie—her supposed roommate, her supposed friend—had bailed on her at the last minute.

She had just signed the lease when the call came.

"Yuqi… I’m sorry, I don’t think I can live with you… My boyfriend offered to live with him, and I couldn’t refuse. You understand, right?? Thank you…"

Yuqi had barely gotten out a, “Wait, what? Minnie, I just signed the lease—hold on—” before the call ended.

That was two days ago.

Now, here she was, sitting in a café with you, still trying to figure out how to deal with it.

And your grand solution? Living together.

Yuqi swirls her straw in her drink, staring at you like you’ve just suggested something insane—which, to be fair, you have.

“I also have to move next month,” you continue, unfazed. “My office is closer there. So it’s perfect timing.”

“No way. Too weird—thanks, but no.” She chugs her drink, as if that will help wash away the absurdity of this conversation. “For now, I’ll call the real estate office for a cancellation.”

“And your job starts next month,” you counter, unfazed. “Good luck apartment-hunting in zero time.”

“Hmm… I guess I’ll have to postpone my work too.” Her fork idly plays with the remains of her cake, breaking it down into a mess of crumbs. Just moments ago, she had been enjoying it, and now she can’t even bring herself to take another bite. “I’ll just go back to my parents’ house, and—”

“You can’t do that.”

Yuqi frowns. “What?”

“Did you forget? I also wanted to go home, and you didn’t let me. That’s the reason I got the job I was dreaming of.”

She clicks her tongue. “See what happens when you just listen to me?”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself— Give it up, you’re not pushing back your work.” You lean back, arms crossed. “Am I not your friend? Aren’t we supposed to help each other when we’re in trouble?”

Yuqi exhales, pressing her lips together. As much as she hates to admit it, you have a point.

It’s only temporary. A practical solution. Why shouldn’t she take it?

For the past two days, she had been dreading this mess—mentally calculating costs, debating whether she should force herself into a last-minute roommate arrangement with a complete stranger.

And now, just like that, you’ve handed her the perfect fix.

Her shoulders, tense from the weight of this problem, feel noticeably lighter. The only thing that irks her is that she didn’t think of this first.

“…Yeah, you’re right. We’re friends.” She leans back, eyeing you. “There’s no reason for me to decline. Especially not after all that pleading.”

“pleading?? I’m not the one who needs help here.”

“Fine. How much you chipping in?”

“Fifty-fifty. What, you think I’m just going to give you easy money?”

“If you’re volunteering…” She smirks, leaning in just enough to taunt.

You shake your head, scoffing. “Unbelievable.”

And so, the cohabitation between you and Yuqi begins.

~~~

There are private rooms, clear boundaries. As long as neither of you misjudges the sense of distance between you, nothing will change.

At least, that’s what you both assume.

The first few weeks go exactly as expected—well, mostly.

Yuqi doesn’t have to worry about rent anymore. There’s no awkward adjustment period, no need to tiptoe around like she would with a stranger. You’re not the worst person to live with, either. Sure, you’re irritating sometimes—leaving your notes scattered on the dining table, stealing the last of the coffee, acting smug whenever you manage to fix something she can’t—but she’s always known that about you.

What she didn’t expect was how quickly she gets used to you being there.

It’s the little things.

The way she hears the front door open and instinctively knows it’s you. The way you always leave the light on when you come home late because you know she stays up reading.

One night, she passes by the kitchen and finds you there, reheating food. You glance up. “You haven’t eaten yet?”

She shrugs, stealing a piece of your food before you can swat her hand away. “Hey—”

“It’s fine, I’m not that hungry.”

You exhale, shaking your head. “You do this every time. Don’t be a hypocrite.”

Yuqi frowns. “What?”

“You always scold me for skipping meals, but look at you.”

She rolls her eyes, but something in her chest stirs at the fact that you noticed.

It happens again when she comes home exhausted one evening and finds her favorite drink sitting on the counter. When she glances at you, raising a brow, you just shrug. “Thought you’d need it.”

And again, when she’s cramming for a presentation and you drop a snack beside her without a word.

She tells herself it’s normal. You’re friends. Friends do things like this.

Another moment.

Yuqi is in the kitchen early one morning, half-awake as she absentmindedly flips an egg in the pan. She isn’t much of a cook, but breakfast is simple enough—something warm to start the day before the madness of work and school kicks in.

She’s focused on the sizzling sound, the comforting routine of it, when she suddenly feels movement behind her.

Then—warmth.

You’re reaching over her, one hand bracing the counter beside her, the other stretching toward the cupboard above.

For a split second, she’s caught off guard by how close you are—close enough that she can feel the faint heat of your body against her back, close enough that she catches the lingering scent of your shampoo, something fresh and clean.

Her heartbeat stutters.

Instinct kicks in before logic does, and she turns around—only to make things worse.

Now, instead of your presence behind her, she’s face-to-face with you.

Too close.

Way too close.

Her eyes meet yours, and for some reason, it feels like neither of you moves for a second too long. Her pulse is loud in her ears, and she doesn’t know why she’s suddenly so aware of the way her breath catches—why her fingers tighten slightly around the spatula in her hand.

She’s being weird again.

“You…” She clears her throat, trying to sound unaffected. “Need something?”

You blink, as if snapping out of it, and gesture toward the cupboard. “Just getting a mug.”

Right. Obviously.

She mentally curses herself and quickly steps aside, turning her focus back to the stove. It’s nothing. You’re just tired. That’s all.

But then one morning, she walks into the living room, still groggy from sleep, and finds you sitting on the couch, absentmindedly scrolling on your phone. Sunlight streams through the window, catching in your hair. You’re wearing that old, worn-out hoodie you refuse to throw away, looking like you belong there—like you belong with her.

And something about it makes her stomach flip in a way it shouldn’t.

Yuqi stands frozen in the hallway, gripping her coffee mug, heartbeat slightly off rhythm.

She doesn’t like where her thoughts are going.

She really, really doesn’t.

So she does what she always does when faced with something uncomfortable—she brushes it aside.

She’s just being weird.

It’s nothing.

It has to be nothing.

“Hey.”

Your voice cuts through the silence, snapping Yuqi out of her thoughts.

She blinks, stiffening slightly. “What?”

“You got any plans today?”

Her mind races. Why is he asking? Is he—wait, is he inviting me somewhere? A… date?

“Wh—why?” she asks, trying (and failing) to sound casual.

You shrug. “Nothing. Just asking.” There’s a pause before you add, “I’ll be home late, though. No need to wait up.”

She scoffs, crossing her arms. “Since when do I wait for you?”

You don’t answer, and somehow, that makes it worse.

Irritated, she presses on. “Why? Where are you going?”

“Meeting someone,” you say, vague as hell.

Her brows crash together. “Wait—a date? What, you’re flaunting it now?”

You smirk, dodging the question, and something sour twists in her gut—she hates that smirk, hates how it needles her, hates that she cares.

Before she can push further, a realization slams into her. “Oh—shit, work!”

Panic sets in as she scrambles toward the bathroom, cursing under her breath. Just as she reaches the door, she pauses, whipping around to point an accusing finger at you.

“Fuck you, you did that on purpose. You were distracting me!”

From the couch, you barely glance up from your phone before lazily flipping her off.

She slams the bathroom door, heart thudding too hard to unpack.

Hours later, she’s a wreck—work crushed her soul, her boss barely grunted at her efforts, and every mistake she made still burns.

She doesn’t even remember how she made it home. Everything from today—the endless stress, the way her boss barely acknowledged her work, the stupid mistakes she made because she was too exhausted to think straight—it all clings to her like dead weight.

It feels even shittier knowing what today was supposed to be.

Her first work anniversary. One year. A milestone that should mean something, should feel like progress. Instead, she feels like she’s still fumbling, still struggling to prove herself, still barely keeping up.

Her head pounds. Her chest feels tight.

And maybe—just maybe—what makes it worse is that today also marks one year since she moved in with you.

One year of this place feeling like home.

But right now, standing in the entryway, shoes barely kicked off, she just feels… drained.

She wants to cry.

Not in a dramatic, loud way. Just… silently. Curled up on the couch, alone in the dimly lit apartment, where she could finally let go without anyone seeing.

She’s relieved you aren’t home yet.

She doesn’t have to keep it together.

With a deep breath, she pushes open the door—

Pop!

Confetti explodes, and Yuqi flinches, pulse spiking as cake-scent floods her senses.

Streamers dangle, a crooked banner sags on the wall, and there you are—grinning like an idiot with a party popper, like you didn’t just ambush her fragile grip on sanity.

“Congratulations!”

She just… stares.

The weight—dread, fatigue, the whole suffocating mess—frays apart, leaving her raw.

“You made it a whole year,” you continue, motioning toward the cake on the table. “That’s huge. So, you know… I figured we should celebrate.”

It’s too much.

Not in the way work had been too much.

But in the way you always are.

Always paying attention. Always noticing the things she doesn’t say.

Always making it impossible for her to pretend this—you—don’t matter more than they should.

Her throat tightens.

Her fingers twitch, and she grips the strap of her bag a little harder, like she needs to hold onto something—anything—to keep herself from completely unraveling in front of you.

Right now, she wants to collapse into you—arms, warmth, all of it—and that scares her shitless.

She swallows hard, choking out, “You’re an idiot,” as she steps past, voice thinner than she means it to be.

“You’re welcome,” you shoot back easily, like this is just another one of your usual exchanges.

She sets her bag down. Breathes in.

But it’s different now. Everything feels different now.

Because this isn’t something she can brush off anymore.

Not when the sight of you—standing there, waiting for her—could turn her worst day into something else entirely.

She thought to herself. At this rate…

… we couldn’t be friends anymore…

… Is what you thought.

It crept up on you slowly.

At first, living with Yuqi was just supposed to be convenient. A temporary solution, nothing more. You were friends—it was easy, effortless, like always.

But then, things started changing.

You woke up earlier than expected, your throat dry, half-asleep as you dragged yourself toward the kitchen.

But before you could even reach the sink, the bathroom door swung open—

—and Yuqi stepped out. signing in fragments, lyrics clearly improvised, steam curling around her like a scene straight out of a movie.

Your brain short-circuited.

Dripping hair. Bare shoulders. A towel wrapped hugging around her body, another loosely draped over her head. She wasn’t even fully dry yet, droplets trailing down her collarbone, tracing down to her chest, disappearing beneath—

Oh, fuck.

She froze mid-step, finally noticing you.

“Oh, shit!”

Your mouth opened before your brain could catch up. “Morning.”

Her grip tightened on the towel around her chest. “You—you’re up early.”

“And you’re… in towels.”

A beat of silence.

Don’t say something stupid. Don’t say something stu—

“Yeah, you have to stop doing that.”

Yuqi scowled. “Don’t tell me what to do.”

“I wouldn’t if that wasn’t my towel on your head.”

“why is it a big deal, this is my home—”

“I pay for half.”

She narrowed her eyes. “It’s my house. I’ll do what I want.”

And before you could argue, she yanked the towel off her head and chucked it straight at your face.

By the time you pulled it away, she was already gone, bolting to her room like her life depended on it.

Then—

A muffled scream of frustration from behind her door.

You exhaled sharply, pressing the towel against your face—less to dry off, more to hide the heat creeping up your skin.

“Fuck.”

Then there was this one time, when you were setting up the new shelf.

Yuqi insisted she didn’t need help—because of course she did—but five minutes in, she was already struggling to balance the frame while reaching for the screws.

"You're gonna drop it," you warned, watching from the couch.

"I'm not gonna drop it," she shot back, fumbling with the last screw.

The universe, apparently, took that as a challenge.

The shelf wobbled. Yuqi yelped. And before either of you could react, she lost her footing.

She crashed into you, sending you both toppling backward.

A thud, a gasp, and suddenly—

She was on top of you.

Chest pressing into yours. Hands braced on either side of your head. Her face so close that you could feel her breath against your lips, just barely—

Neither of you moved.

Yuqi’s eyes flickered down—just for a second, barely noticeable—before snapping back up, wide and unguarded.

You swallowed.

“…You okay?” Your voice came out rougher than intended.

“I—” She blinked, like she just realized what happened. Her breath hitched. Then, in the most unconvincing voice possible— “Yeah. Totally fine.”

Neither of you made a move to get up.

The moment stretched, tension thick enough to drown in.

Then—

“Yuqi.”

“What?”

“You're still on top of me.”

“…Oh. Right.”

She scrambled off, way too fast for someone who was supposedly “totally fine.” Turning away, she ran a hand through her hair, exhaling sharply.

You sat up, clearing your throat. The air between you still felt charged, buzzing with something neither of you wanted to acknowledge.

She finally looked at you—pointedly not at your lips.

“Shut up,” she muttered.

You hadn’t even said anything yet.

And then there were the bad days.

Yuqi was loud.

You were used to it by now—the way she talked, argued, and debated like she was on some national stage. But tonight, it was worse. Her voice carried through the living room, sharp and insistent, cutting through the walls of your room.

You could tell she wasn’t just talking—she was venting.

You didn’t interrupt.

Didn’t step in.

Just waited.

Then—

A knock on your door.

Soft, hesitant. Almost out of character.

“…You wanna drink?”

When you opened the door, Yuqi was standing there, arms crossed, gaze flickering to the side. The frustration from earlier had dimmed, replaced by something more subdued.

You didn’t question it. Just grabbed your jacket. “Let’s go.”

The city felt different at night. Quieter, almost peaceful, the usual rush of people replaced by empty sidewalks and the occasional streetlight glow.

Yuqi walked beside you, hands stuffed in her pockets, gaze tilted toward the sky. The stars were faint, barely visible between the buildings, but she looked at them anyway.

“…You ever feel like you’re running out of time?”

You glanced at her. “What do you mean?”

She exhaled, kicking a stray pebble on the pavement. “I dunno. Just—sometimes it feels like I need to keep going. Like if I stop, even for a second, I’ll fall behind. And I hate that feeling.”

You stayed quiet, letting her talk.

“But then I think… what if I don’t even know where I’m running to?”

That, you understood.

You let the silence settle before answering. “You don’t have to figure everything out now, you know.”

She scoffed. “That’s easy for you to say.”

“Is it?” You gave her a pointed look. “You’re the one who’s always giving me advice.”

Yuqi opened her mouth—then shut it, visibly chewing over your words.

You smirked. “Not so fun being on the other end, huh?”

She shoved your shoulder lightly. “Shut up.”

The walk continued, and little by little, the weight in her expression faded. The tension in her shoulders eased, her usual energy returning in small doses—first in the way she kicked at a stray pebble, then in how she scoffed at one of your dumb remarks.

By the time you made it back to your place, she was… lighter.

As you reached the door, she stretched her arms above her head with a sigh. “You know what? I don’t think I need that drink anymore.”

You raised a brow. “So I got dragged out here for nothing?”

“I never dragged you—”

You gave her a look.

“…Okay, maybe a little,” she admitted, rolling her eyes. Then, after a beat, softer—“But it helped, so. Thanks.”

A pause.

Then, quieter—“I mean it.”

You stared at her, the soft glow of the streetlights casting a halo over her face.

Something shifted.

The air felt heavier, charged with something neither of you dared name. It would’ve been easy to brush it off, to make a joke and keep walking—

But before you could find the words, she turned away, already unlocking the door.

“Alright, I’m going to bed. Night, loser.”

The moment passed, or at least, it should have.

But just as you were about to head to your room, Yuqi hesitated.

She turned back, her hand lingering on the doorknob, lips parting like she wanted to say something—then stopping. You caught it then, the flicker of uncertainty in her eyes, rare and fleeting.

And then, finally—

“…Hey.”

You raised a brow. “What?”

She exhaled, tapping her fingers against the doorframe. “Do you remember that stupid bet we made during freshman year?”

You blinked. “Which one?”

“The one where if either of us ever fell for the other, your dic…” She trailed off, then cleared her throat. “Y’know. And I’d have to shave my head.”

You let out a short laugh. “Oh. That bet.”

Back then, rumors about you two dating spread so quickly it became a joke among your classmates. You and Yuqi played along, turning it into a challenge—there’s no way we’d fall for each other. If either of you did, the consequences were extreme.

It was dumb.

It was funny.

It should’ve stayed that way.

But that night?

that night, the words felt heavier.

You studied her expression, trying to gauge where she was going with this. “Why? You getting nervous?”

She scoffed. “Pfft. You wish.”

But there was something in the way she said it. A little too quick, a little too defensive.

You smirked. “Worried about your hair, huh?”

“More like you should be worried,” she shot back, but she wasn’t looking at you when she said it.

You snorted. “Unfair, by the way. I have to cut my dick off, while you only have to shave your head. I can’t believe we agreed to it.”

“…Me either,” she mumbled under her breath.

It was so quiet, so fleeting, you almost missed it. Almost.

For a split second, neither of you spoke.

Then she rolled her eyes. “Whatever. I was just asking. Night, loser.”

Before you could respond, she was inside, the door clicking shut behind her.

You stood there for a second, staring at the empty space where she had just been.

Your bet.

Freshman year.

We will never fall for each other.

You exhaled, running a hand down your face as the thought echoed in your head.

It was supposed to be a joke. A ridiculous bet between two people who swore they’d never be that kind of cliché.

And yet…

Tonight happened.

You expected her to be surprised by the celebration. Maybe even a little annoyed at the mess—the scattered decorations, the cake waiting on the table, the small banner you hastily put together.

What you didn’t expect was the way her expression cracked—just for a second. The way her eyes softened, something raw and unguarded flickering across her face before she caught herself. Before she scoffed, gripping her bag a little too tightly, and muttered, “You’re such an idiot.”

You should’ve let it go. Just laughed, moved on, kept things the way they were.

But she didn’t move.

She stood there, caught between hesitation and something she wouldn’t name, and suddenly, it wasn’t just about tonight.

It was about all of it—the late-night talks when she came home exhausted but still found a way to smile, the quiet gestures, the way she made space for you without even realizing it.

It was the fact that today wasn’t just one year since she started her job.

It was one year since she moved in. One year since this place started feeling a little fuller. A little more like home.

And it hit you then.

All the moments that snuck up on you, that built up piece by piece until there was no more denying it.

Because at some point—somewhere between the shared space, the stolen glances, the lines you swore you’d never cross—

You started falling for her too.

The apartment was quiet except for the soft clinking of utensils against ceramic.

Yuqi sat across from you, the warm glow of the dining room light casting a soft hue over her face. She took a bite, chewing slowly, and then—there it was.

That small, bittersweet smile.

You didn’t know what it meant, not exactly. But you knew it wasn’t the usual smug grin she wore when she teased you, nor the triumphant smirk she had when she got her way.

It was softer. More subdued. Like she was savoring something that wasn’t just the food.

You should’ve looked away. Focused on your plate. Kept things normal. But you didn’t.

Instead, you watched her, your grip tightening around your fork as the weight of everything settled in your chest.

You weren’t looking at her as a friend. Not anymore.

After dinner, Yuqi disappeared into her room while you started cleaning up. You heard the faint rustling of fabric, the sound of a drawer closing, but you didn’t think much of it—until she reemerged.

She padded into the living room in an old t-shirt and a pair of short shorts, her hair slightly damp, probably from washing up. The sight of her like this—comfortable, effortless—made something twist in your chest, but you shoved it down.

Wordlessly, she plopped onto the couch as you finished wiping the table, then leaned back against the cushions, stretching her legs out lazily.

By the time you grabbed a couple of beers from the fridge, she was already making herself at home, one arm draped over the backrest like she belonged there.

You handed her a can, and she took it without a word, cracking it open with a soft hiss.

The TV flickered in the dimly lit apartment, the background noise of a movie filling the space between you.

At some point, between the second beer and the slow lull of the film, Yuqi leaned into the cushions, her body naturally angling toward yours.

Neither of you said much—just the occasional comment, the quiet laughter. But even in the silence, it felt... easy. Comfortable.

And then the credits rolled.

The screen faded to black, leaving nothing but the soft glow from the city lights seeping through the window. The noise stopped.

And yet, you didn’t reach for the remote.

You glanced at her, watching as she traced the rim of her bottle with her thumb. Her expression was unreadable, but there was something contemplative in the way she exhaled, sinking deeper into the couch.

You hesitated, then asked, “Everything okay at work?”

She blinked, as if shaking off a thought. “Ye—yeah. Just some problems here and there, I guess.”

“Nothing you couldn’t handle, I assume.”

She snorted, tilting her head to look at you. “Of course not. Do you even know who you’re talking to?”

There she was again—the Yuqi you knew. The one who never backed down, who met everything head-on with that sharp, unshaken confidence.

But you’d seen her earlier. The way she lingered at the door. The way her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes tonight.

You hummed, setting your bottle down. “That so?”

Her brows furrowed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing,” you mused, stretching your arm along the back of the couch. “Just wondering if the great Song Yuqi is finally showing signs of weakness.”

She scoffed, turning to fully face you now, eyes narrowing. “You—”

Then, without warning, she flicked your forehead. Hard.

You flinched. “Ow—what the hell?”

“That’s for being annoying,” she said smugly, leaning back like she’d won something.

Oh. That’s how she wanted to play it?

Fine.

You barely gave her a second to react before your hand shot out, fingers pressing into her side.

The moment she realized what was happening, her smirk vanished.

“Wait—no! No, no, no! Don't tickle me” she yelped, twisting away instinctively. “You—asshole—stop!”

But you didn’t stop.

“Think you can flick me and walk away?” you taunted, fingers digging into her sides, relentless as she writhed against the couch, laughter spilling wild between you.

You pressed in, grinning, chasing her squirming frame—her giggles breaking apart into breathless, jagged bursts. She swatted at you, sloppy and weak, but you had the upper hand, her strength no match for yours.

“Admit it,” you teased, skimming the tender spot just below her ribs, knowing it’d unravel her.

“N-never—!” she choked out, twisting under you, her voice fraying as she fought your grip.

The couch groaned under the tussle—her thrashing, your weight shifting—and without thinking, you slid forward, pinning her deeper into the cushions. Your knee nudged between her thighs, pressing firm against her heat.

It didn’t register at first—too lost in the game, her laughter ringing sharp and bright. But then her giggles stumbled, thinning into ragged breaths. Her hands, once shoving, latched onto your arms, fingers digging in—not pushing now, but clinging.

You felt it—the hitch in her chest, the way her body stiffened, then softened, melting against you. Her laughter faded, replaced by something breathier, needier—a sound caught halfway between a gasp and a plea.

And then it slipped out—a moan, soft and unbidden, trembling past her lips.

Everything froze.

Your fingers stalled against her waist, her nails bit into your skin, and the air turned thick, electric. Her eyes snapped wide, lips parted, shock flickering over her face as her breath raced—short, shallow, unraveling.

Your pulse thundered, drowning out the silence, and that’s when you clocked it—your knee, still wedged between her thighs, pressed flush against her warmth.

Neither of you moved.

Neither of you breathed.

The laughter was dead.

Something else took its place—hot, heavy, and undeniable.

You cleared your throat, a feeble attempt to break the spell, to shake off the weight of what had just happened. Slowly, you pulled away, putting space between you before you lost the will to.

Your eyes flickered anywhere but at her—afraid to see what lingered in her expression. Fear? Surprise? Or something else entirely?

You pushed yourself up, ready to remove yourself from the couch, from the heat still clinging to your skin—But then. A tug. Subtle, hesitant.

Fingers curled around your wrist, just tight enough to stop you. To hold you in place.

To keep you from leaving the moment.

You turned, catching the flush creeping up her neck, her lips parted as she refused to meet your gaze.

“Yuqi…” you groaned, your voice strained, warning.

Her grip on your wrist tightened. “Do—don’t leave.”

That was all it took.

You moved back toward her, hesitant but drawn in all the same. The space between you shrank, your breath mingling with hers, lips barely a whisper apart. Her fingers twitched against your skin, but she didn’t pull away.

You could feel the heat radiating from her, the way her chest rose and fell, the way her body swayed ever so slightly in your direction. Just a little more and—

“Wait—!”

Her hands shot up, pressing against your chest—not forceful, not pushing you away completely, but enough to halt you in place.

Your jaw clenched. You stayed there, hovering, pulse hammering in your throat.

“What do you want, Yuqi?” you asked, your voice low, steady despite the storm inside you. “Be clear with me.”

She hesitated, eyes darting anywhere but yours. You felt it—the war within her, the pull and the push, the fear and the want.

You exhaled, nodding slightly. “Okay.”

You started to move back, giving her the space she seemed to need—

But then, just as you did, her arms looped around your neck, her body pressing against yours, her warmth, her scent, her head rising for her lips to meet yours.

Briefly, she pulls away gauging your reaction.

You cursed under your breath, a quiet, ragged sound, because you knew—knew—that if she kept holding onto you like this, you wouldn’t be able to stop.

Your hands found her waist, fingers curling instinctively, and before you could think better of it, you scooped her up.

Yuqi gasped, eyes widening. “Wha—what are you doing?”

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t.

You carried her past the dimly lit hallway, You stop at before the doors of your rooms.

Yuqi who had grasp your intention, murmured close to your chest “Mine—my room.” giving a answer to your conundrum.

Carrying her through the threshold of her room, our grip firm yet careful, your body thrumming with something dangerously close to surrender.

Then, as gently as you could, you set her down.

The bed dipped beneath her weight, her body sinking into the sheets.

And for a moment—just one agonizing moment—silence stretched between you. To pause. To asses. To decide.

Her breath came in uneven waves, fingers clutching the comforter beneath her, knuckles whitening as if it were an anchor. She looked like she was bracing herself—teetering on the edge of a decision, weighing what came next.

You hovered above her, resolve fraying, the heat of her body pulling you closer, unraveling every thread of restraint—

“…The—the door,” she whispered, voice barely audible, trembling with something fragile.

You pulled back, glancing toward it. “If I lock that, there’s no turning back.”

Her eyes flickered, wide and searching, then steadied. “I—I think it’s… it’ll be okay. If it’s you, I want it.”

The door clicked shut with her words, a soft, final sound that echoed in the quiet. You returned to her, sliding back onto the bed, looming over her frame—close enough to feel the faint tremor in her breath. “Do you even know what you just said?”

“Stop talking to me like a kid,” she snapped, her voice sharpening, though it wavered at the edges.

“That’s not an answer.” You held her gaze, unflinching. “Do you want to sleep with me?”

“Uh… yes.” The word slipped out, small and shaky, laced with fear and a defiance testing her own limits. She swallowed hard, then added, “Why? Don’t you want to?”

You shifted closer, your nose brushing hers, so near you could taste the alcohol on her breath—sharp and warm, mingling with the heat radiating off her skin. Her heavy exhales grazed your lips, and the air between you thickened, charged with something neither of you could name.

“What is this?” you murmured, half to yourself. Song Yuqi—bold, unshakable Yuqi—lay beneath you, face flushed crimson, pride crumbling into doubt. Her words stumbled, her usual fire dimmed, and you couldn’t help but press. “Are you really Yuqi?”

Maybe you were stalling too—teasing her, skirting the edge of what you both knew was coming, afraid to leap.

Then, out of nowhere, her hand shot up, smacking your chin with a clumsy shove, forcing distance between you.

“Ugh! I don’t know anymore, okay?! I haven't done this before!” she yelled, voice cracking with frustration. “Just—hurry up and show me your dick already!”

Her legs thrashed, feet flailing against the mattress in a wild, petulant burst. “You—crazy—woman” you blurt out.

You lunged forward, seizing her ankles, pinning them to the mattress with a firm, unyielding grip. “Calm down,” you said, voice low and steady, anchoring her as her chest heaved, the wild outburst dissolving into a taut, trembling stillness.

Her eyes flashed, defiant even now. “What, are you scared?”

You leaned in close, her challenge igniting something reckless in you. “You’re about to get fucked senseless.”

She smirked, unshaken, her voice a dare. “I think you’re the one who’s sca—sacred. Prove it.”

You crashed into her, lips seizing hers with raw, tongue intruding into her mouth, bruising hunger. Your hand slid up, fingers knotting in the back of her hair, yanking her closer—deeper—until no space remained, her frantic breaths fusing with yours in a desperate, unrelenting tangle.

Your other hand found her breast, cupping it firmly, and a sharp whimper broke from her throat—soft, unguarded, trembling against your mouth.

You pulled back just enough to rasp, “Do you want more? Tell me if you don’t.” “Ah!” she gasped, startled by the sudden absence of your lips, her voice faltering. “Uh—uh… it’s okay…”

You dove back in, claiming her mouth again, fiercer now, your hand slipping beneath her shirt.

Fingers roamed her chest, squeezing through the thin fabric of her bra, rucking up her clothes in the chaos. The hem of her shirt climbed past her breasts, her bra tugged askew—one pale pink nipple already peeking free, stark against her skin.

“Yu—qi,” you murmured, breaking the kiss again, though your lips hovered close, tethered by a glistening thread of saliva that refused to snap. “Do you want this?”

“I want it, yes,” she panted, breathless, her words tumbling out in a rush.

You guided her arms up, stretching them straight above her head, and she followed—pliant, trusting.

Your hands gripped the edge of her dress, peeling it upward, sliding it off in one fluid pull. Then, just as swiftly, you hooked her shorts, tugging them down as she lifted her legs to help, the fabric slipping free and pooling forgotten on the floor.

There she lay—pale skin glowing faintly in the dim light, her fit frame taut and trembling. Blonde hair spilled across the bed in wild, tangled waves, framing her like a halo gone rogue. Her white underwear clung to her hips, stark against her flush, one bra strap sagging, the displaced cup exposing a modest breast, its pink nipple hardened in the cool air. She blushed deep, one arm crossing shyly over her waist, the other hovering near her mouth, fingers brushing her lips as if to hide.

Her eyes darted away, unable to hold yours. “Why are you just staring?” she mumbled, voice small, edged with nerves she couldn’t quite mask.

You exhaled, a faint chuckle slipping out as you shook your head. “I’m just trying to figure out how you still look like a menace even when you’re—” Your words snagged mid-sentence as her glare cut through you, her cheeks blazing.

“Don’t,” she warned, voice tight.

You smirked, tilting your head. “Don’t what?”

Her eyes narrowed, sharp and accusing. “You know what.”

You leaned in, your breath grazing her skin, close enough to feel her tense. “What? I thought you lived for praise about your beauty.”

She swallowed hard, throat bobbing, fingers twisting into the sheets. Then, so soft it nearly slipped past—

“It’s different when it’s you.”

“Well, you are beautiful, Yuqi. I mean it.”

Her breath hitched at the words, a flicker of protest rising—ready to snap at your sly jab—but before she could, your lips found her neck, pressing firm and warm. Your hand slid to her breast, fingers brushing the exposed nipple, teasing it into a stiff peak.

She stiffened, a fleeting push against your chest, but it melted away fast—her resistance crumbling as you lavished her skin with attention.

“It… tickles,” she murmured, voice wobbling, half a complaint, half a surrender.

Your hand snaked behind her, deftly unhooking her bra with a flick. You tugged it free, letting it fall aside, her breasts spilling out—modest, pale, and perfect in the dim light. No hesitation—you dove in, lips closing over one nipple, sucking gently while your fingers toyed with the other, rolling it between them.

“Hey,” she gasped, a shaky laugh threading through her words, “aren’t you too good at this?”

You didn’t answer, too lost in her—her taste, her warmth, the way her whimpers grew sharper, rewarding every flick of your tongue, every pinch of your fingers. You pulled back, just enough to take her in fully—sprawled beneath you, clutching the sheets with white-knuckled desperation. Her blonde hair fanned wild across the bed, pale skin flushed deep, chest rising and falling in jagged bursts.

Your hands returned, pinching both nipples now, firm and deliberate. Her eyes—barely open—fought to hold yours, glazed with pleasure, her tongue slipping out as her mouth parted. Words failed her, dissolving into a string of moans and broken whimpers, the only sounds she could muster as she drowned in the sensation.

Wa—wait a sec…” She propped herself up against the pillow, hands darting to your face. Her fingers dug into your cheeks, pulling you in—too close, her touch firm and insistent.

“Kissing really feels good, don’t you think?” she mused, voice lilting with forced casualness. Her thumbs brushed slow, deliberate circles against your skin, betraying the act. “Especially when you feel it—you know, with tongues and everything.”

You arched a brow, amusement curling your lips. “Are you fishing for a kiss?”

She scoffed, but her hands didn’t budge, fingers lingering like they’d fused to you. “I’m just saying,” she huffed, eyes flicking aside, dodging yours. “No harm in a little discussion, right?”

You smirked, reading her like an open book—her little game, the way she circled what she craved, betting you’d cave first. “Just discussing, then?” you teased, tilting your head with mock innocence. “So I shouldn’t do it?”

Her grip faltered, a flash of panic skittering across her face. “I didn’t sa—”

She didn’t finish.

Your lips crashed into hers, silencing her protest, swallowing her words in a swift, ravenous press. Her breath snagged against your mouth, a sharp hitch—and for a fleeting second, she froze, caught off guard. Then she melted, hands slipping to grip your jaw, and before you could take control, her tongue darted forward—bold and sure, sliding into your mouth like she’d been waiting for this all along. The kiss deepened fast, tongues clashing in a messy, heated tangle, her pretense torched by the hunger she couldn’t hide.

Your hands roamed, restless—sliding down her sides, then lower, until they settled at her crotch. Fingers brushed the fabric of her panties, then slipped beneath, meeting slick heat that made your pulse jump. She was already wet, soaked through, and a low groan rumbled in your throat as you felt her.

You pulled back from the kiss, lips parting with a wet smack, and her eyes fluttered open, dazed and glassy. Your other hand hooked into her waistband, yanking the white fabric down her thighs in one rough tug, peeling it free and tossing it aside. She gasped, legs trembling as the cool air hit her bare skin.

“Already this wet?” you teased, voice gravelly, a smirk curling your lips. “You little pervert.”

Her face blazed red, embarrassment clashing with a spark of defiance in her eyes, but she didn’t pull back—her breath jagged, teetering between a snap and a whimper.

“Dum—dumbass, that’s what happens when—”

You didn’t let her finish. Your fingers pressed to her folds, slick and warm, rubbing along her slit with slow, deliberate strokes. Her grip on your neck tightened, nails biting into your skin, while her other hand fumbled to clutch your arm, trembling as her tongue slipped out, instinctive and desperate.

“Wha—what are you doing? St—stop—” she stammered, voice fracturing, but her hands betrayed her, sliding back to clutch the pillow behind her, knuckles whitening as she braced against the onslaught. “It fee—it feels weird. Really weird!” she cried, her tone pitching into a yell, raw and unraveling.

Her body locked tight for a split second—then shattered. Her back arched sharp off the bed, head snapping back into the pillow, a convulsion ripping through her as her thighs quaked. A rush of wet heat surged against your hand, her juices spilling out, soaking your fingers and dripping onto the sheets beneath. Her breath came in broken gasps, chest heaving, her tongue lolling slightly as the waves crashed over her, leaving her trembling in their wake.

“Fuck… shit…” she rasped, hands flying to cover her face, the flush so deep it seemed to bleed through her fingers, staining them red.

You blinked, caught off guard. “Why are you suddenly cursing?”

“No, no, I mean…” She peeked through her hands, voice small but edged with frustration. “Be—because my sheets… they’re all wet now.”

“Oh, uh… sor—sorry…” you muttered, heat creeping up your own neck.

Her eyes flicked to yours, still glassy from the haze, then narrowed with a glint of mischief. “Then… hurry up and take off your pants already,” she ordered, voice low and impatient.

You rose to your feet on the bed, shedding your pants and briefs in a quick, fumbling pull, letting them drop away. Your dick sprang free, hard and hovering above her as she sat back on her knees, gazing up at you. The sight alone—her pale, flushed body, blonde hair spilling wild, those sharp eyes locked on you—hit like a punch, and her intense stare only made it worse. You couldn’t hold it; your gaze skittered away, heat crawling up your neck.

“Hmmm… hey, what’s wrong?” she hummed, a smug grin creeping across her lips. “Why’re you suddenly shy now?”

“It’s reasonable with this view,” you muttered, voice snagging in your throat, barely dodging her piercing stare.

“Is that so?” Her smug grin bloomed wide, teetering on a giggle. She edged closer, her face drifting nearer—dangerously near—to your cock, so close a twitch could’ve brushed her lips. Then her hand shot out, fingers wrapping around your length, forming a tight ring just below the head. The sudden heat of her grip hit you hard—soft skin, firm pressure, a jolt of warmth that shot straight up your spine, making your breath catch and your hips tense instinctively. She started stroking, slow and deliberate, her palm sliding smooth against you, each pull tugging a raw, electric pulse through your core. “How is it? Is it okay? Does it feel good? Does it hurt?”

“You know, for someone who doesn’t know what she’s doing, you’re pretty damn bold,” you said, half-breathless, a smirk tugging despite the way her touch was unraveling you—every stroke a tease, her fingers tight enough to edge you toward losing it.

She ignored you, eyes flicking up with a glint of mischief, her hand keeping its rhythm—steady, maddening, the friction building heat that made your thighs twitch. “Doesn’t it feel good? Are you in paradise yet? You can cum—go ahead, it’s fine! Cum quick! Why aren’t you cumming? What’s wrong?!” Her questions tumbled out, fast and insistent, voice rising with a mix of glee and frustration.

“Yuqi, calm down,” you managed, voice straining as her pace quickened your pulse, her grip coaxing a throb you could barely hold back. “It doesn’t work like that.”

“It’s so warm,” she said, a grin tugging at her lips, “I could use it as a hand warmer.”

“Then tell me when you’re cold next time,” you shot back, half-jesting, legs trembling as you teetered between giving in to the pleasure and laughing at her ridiculous innocence. “I’ll whip it out for you.”

Her hand stilled mid-stroke, eyes snapping up to meet yours—sharp, focused, like she’d just clocked her next move and was weighing whether to go for it. Then she did. Her lips parted, soft and tentative, brushing against your tip. She pressed forward, mouth opening wider, her tongue flicking out to guide you in, warm and wet as it curled around the head.

She lingered there, treating it like a lollipop—licking slow, deliberate laps, tilting her head with each pass as if testing every angle. Her movements were clumsy, unpracticed—teeth grazing you now and then, a faint scrape that sent a jolt through you. A stray thought flickered: She might actually bite it.

And then, as if she’d snatched the thought right out of your skull, the ever-impulsive Yuqi went for it. Her teeth clamped down—not hard, just a quick pinch—sending a jolt of shock and a strange, sharp thrill spiking up your spine.

“Fuck—let go, you dumbass!” You yanked yourself back, pulling free from her mouth with a hiss.

“What the hell made you think biting it was a good idea?!”

“Ahh, sorry, sorry—I’m really sorry!” she blurted, eyes wide with panic, guilt flooding her face so fast it almost convinced you she didn’t mean it. “I didn’t even realize what I was doing!”

“Song Yuqi, get over here,” you said, voice firm, cutting through her fluster.

“Ar—are you okay?” she stammered, inching closer, her tone softening like a scolded puppy caught in the act. “Looks like you’re fine, though…”

You tugged her by her waist, laying her flat on the bed, your hand curling around her hip to pull her close. Fingers traced a slow, deliberate path from her knees up to her core, brushing her skin with intent. “Why’d you try to bite me? Do you want to be scolded, is that it?”

She turned her head, dodging your stare, her voice sinking to a sheepish mumble. “It looked delicious… so I thought I’d take a bite…”

You leaned in, capturing her lips again, kissing her deep and slow as you shifted between her thighs. Your hands nudged her legs apart, her skin warm and trembling under your touch. Your cock brushed her folds—slick, hot, a fleeting graze that made her breath hitch against your mouth.

You pulled back, eyes dropping to your shaft, guiding it with a steady hand. Your tip nudged her entrance, teasing her pussy with shallow dips, testing her heat. “Yuqi, you want to keep going?”

“Huh… How—how many times are you gonna ask?” she huffed, voice quivering, each word stuttering in time with the faint pulses of your cock against her. “Are you deaf…?”

You pressed in, your tip slipping past her entrance, sinking just enough to feel her tighten around you. A whimper spilled from her lips, quick and sharp, and you froze. “Are you alright? Should I go slower…?”

“Y—yes…!” she gasped, breaths shallow and ragged, holding them like she could trap the sensation inside.

“Yuqi, I want you to be comfortable,” you murmured, voice low, careful. “Tell me if it hurts—”

“Hey…” Her eyes glimmered, wet with tears—some already streaking down her flushed cheeks. She grabbed one wrist with her other hand, pinning her arms above her head, a shaky attempt at control. “Fu—fucking a beauty like me must feel good, right…?”

Even now, she bluffed—voice cracking, bravado fraying—but she wasn’t wrong. She felt incredible, her walls gripping you tight, pulsing hot around the bare inch you’d slipped inside, coaxing you deeper despite her trembling.

“…You just want to keep messing with me, don’t you…?” she murmured, eyes glinting through the haze.

“You keep doing it too,” you shot back, a faint smirk tugging at your lips.

“I’m gonna move a little,” you said, voice low. “Tell me if it hurts.”

“Mmhh,” she hummed, nodding faintly, her breath already shallow.

You pressed deeper, sliding slow and steady, her heat swallowing you inch by inch. Her body tensed, a soft gasp escaping as you sank further.

“Does it hurt?” you asked, pausing. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” she whispered, voice thin but firm, her eyes locked on yours.

“Then I’ll move a little more…?”

Your hands slid to her thighs, fingers digging into her soft flesh as you pulled her closer, burying your entire length inside her in one smooth thrust. She clenched around you, a tight, wet pulse that made your breath hitch.

“You’re really okay…?”

“Yeah… I’m good,” she managed, a shaky edge to her words. “Just… carry on, alright…?”

You grabbed her wrists, pinning them between you, tugging them toward your chest as you started to pump—slow at first, each thrust deliberate, feeling her stretch and yield. Her breath stuttered, eyes fluttering shut.

“Wha—what’s this… it feels so weird…” she gasped, voice breaking as her body rocked beneath you.

You quickened your pace, pounding faster, harder—stamina leaching with every sharp snap of your hips. Her moans poured out, jagged and piercing, swelling louder as you drove into her. Then, with a final thrust—deeper, fiercer than the rest—you buried yourself to the hilt, her head whipping back into the pillow, back bowing high off the bed. A raw, guttural moan ripped from her throat, her body quaking beneath you, clenching tight around your cock.

Out of breath, you propped yourself up on your arms, hovering over her sweat-slick frame. “Yuqi, you sure you’re okay? Should I go slower?”

She groaned, rolling her eyes despite the flush on her cheeks. “I told you I’m fine already—”

Her complaint drowned as you thrust back in, cutting her off, plunging deep to reclaim your rhythm. Her moans sang out again, sharp and sweet, and you drank them in, one hand finding her breast—cupping it firm, kneading the soft flesh, her nipple stiff and pressing into your palm like a needy pulse. You used it as leverage, anchoring yourself as you rocked into her.

“Raise your back,” you ordered, voice rough. She obeyed, arching up, and your hands slid to her waist, gripping her hips tight. With the new angle, you pulled her against you, thrusting harder, each slam sinking you deeper—her heat swallowing you, slick and tight, tugging you toward the brink.

The edge hit fast. Her walls spasmed around you, hot and relentless, a sudden, vise-like grip that yanked you over. You groaned low, thrusts stuttering as you came—thick, pulsing spurts flooding her, the wet heat of her pussy milking every last drop, a dizzying rush that blurred your senses. Yuqi shattered with you—her moans spiking into a broken cry, legs trembling, nails clawing the sheets as her climax tore through her. Her core clenched hard, a gush of warmth soaking you both, her body bucking against yours in wild, shuddering waves.

Exhausted, you slumped toward her, chest heaving. She met you halfway, mouth open, greedy—her lips crashing into yours, tongue darting out to pull yours in, tangling with a sloppy, desperate edge as she rode out the aftershocks pressed against you.

~🐶~

Yuqi teetered on the edge of consciousness, drunk on pleasure, her mind barely clinging to coherence in the quiet lull. She slumped back against you, her spine pressing into your chest as you hugged her tight from behind, your back braced against the headboard. Her breath came slow, ragged, her body limp yet humming with the afterglow.

Exhausted but not sated, she stirred as your hands roamed again. One slid to her breast, cupping it gently, fingers teasing the still-hard nipple—rolling it slow, coaxing a faint shiver from her. The other dipped lower, finding her clit, rubbing soft circles against the swollen bud. Her folds, slick and warm, rested heavy against your dick, subtly coating it with her dripping heat, a fresh trickle of her arousal seeping out as her body woke anew. She squirmed, a sleepy moan slipping free, her hips twitching instinctively into your touch—chasing more despite the haze.

Her mind spun, fragmented thoughts flickering through the haze: What should I do??

I’m actually doing it with him—with you.

Having sex with my friend—with you, of all people.

Yuqi’s thoughts snapped off, severed by a single, brutal thrust as you plunged back into her. Her body jolted, pinned tight against yours—your arms clamped around her, refusing her even an inch to squirm. A raw, involuntary moan tore from her throat, heat flooding her core as your cock filled her again, stretching her slick walls with a sudden, relentless pressure that made her head spin.

“You—you jerk!” she gasped, voice fracturing, each word sliced by whimpers and moans she couldn’t choke back. “Why did you suddenly—” Her sentence crumbled, drowned by the waves of pleasure rippling through her, your thrusts relentless, robbing her of breath and coherence. Her hand shot back, fingers tangling in your hair, yanking you closer in a clumsy, desperate retaliation—her nails scraping your scalp as she fought to reclaim some control.

“Fuck! It… feels so… good…” she moaned, the confession spilling out, her voice thick with surrender. Every slam of your hips sent a jolt through her—her insides clenching tight around you, a tingling heat pooling low, her thighs trembling against the onslaught.

Yuqi twisted her head toward you, lips parting, tongue lolling out in a silent plea. You met her halfway, your mouth crashing into hers, tongues tangling in a sloppy, wet mess—her saliva mixing with yours, sharp and bitter on her tastebuds, a hungry edge to the kiss that made her dizzy.

You paused, buried deep inside her, your length a thick, unyielding pressure stretching her core. Your voice rasped hot against her ear, rough and taunting. “Yuqi, why are you moaning so loud? You’re a total pervert, aren’t you?” Your hand clamped onto her breast, squeezing hard, fingers catching her nipple—pinching with a sharp twist that sent a jolt of heat stabbing through her chest, her skin tingling, raw under your grip.

“Wha—what?” The sudden stillness yanked her from her euphoria, your words sparking a flare of annoyance in her hazy mind. “I’m not a pervert! This is because—”

Her protest died as she felt you shift inside her—a subtle, deliberate twitch, just enough to press against her walls, sending a fresh ripple of pleasure curling through her belly. A whimper slipped out, soft and traitorously loud, snuffing her temper before it could catch.

“Is it because it doesn’t hurt anymore?” you teased, voice low, your breath grazing her neck. “You’re fully fitted to my cock now, is that it?” It wasn’t just a taunt—it was a truth she couldn’t dodge. She felt it: her body molded to you, slick and tight, every inch of her clinging like she’d been made for this. Denial burned on her tongue, but her silence betrayed her.

For a heartbeat, the air hung thick—then Yuqi felt it again. Your cock twitched inside her, a sudden, firm pulse that nudged against her walls, straining the tight grip she had on you. She barely registered it before your hands tightened on her hips, lifting her ass higher mid-thrust. The motion shoved her forward, a sharp jolt rocking through her core as you pumped harder, still buried deep. Her arms buckled under the force, knees skidding across the sheets, and she scrambled to catch herself—landing on all fours, ass propped high, her body trembling from the hot, aching stretch where you stayed lodged inside her.

“What are you—?!” she yelped, voice splintering, but before she could twist or protest, your weight shifted forward. You followed her down, pressing against her back—a solid, unrelenting heat pinning her in place as you kept thrusting, relentless, your rhythm unbroken, each slam sinking deeper into her slick, pulsing core.

uqi’s hand flailed back, fingers scrabbling for purchase against your relentless, rabid thrusts—each one slamming into her with a force that made her core throb and ache, a wild rhythm she couldn’t match. Tears streaked her cheeks, her cries spilling out sharp and broken as the pleasure drowned her, too much, too fast. Her grip faltered, and the bed seemed to tilt—your weight unsteady above her. In a clumsy tangle, you both toppled sideways, crashing onto the sheets. But the fall didn’t slow you—your hips kept pumping, unbothered, and now she was trapped. Your arms snaked around her, pinning her own against her chest, locking her tight in your embrace. She moaned helplessly, voice raw and trembling, as you ravaged her hole—each thrust a deep, merciless plunge that wrecked her from the inside out.

Then it hit—a sudden, electric shock blasted through Yuqi, sharp and blinding. Your cock struck her G-spot, a precise, brutal nudge that made her walls clamp down hard, a scream tearing from her throat as her body bucked wildly against you. You caught it—your rhythm shifted fast, seizing the moment. One hand hooked under her thigh, hoisting her leg up, twisting her into a scissoring sprawl. The angle split her open, and you drove deeper—impossibly deeper—your length grinding that spot with every thrust, a hot, pulsing pressure that sent shudders racing up her spine. Her slick heat drenched you, her core spasming out of control, and she couldn’t stop it—the moans, the tremors, the way her body gave in completely to the chaos you unleashed inside her.

Both of you gasped for air, a brief break settling in as your bodies stilled. The position shifted naturally—Yuqi’s eyes stayed clamped shut, too heavy to lift under the intensity, even now in the quiet. She couldn’t see, but she felt your shadow loom over her, your presence hovering close, a dark heat she sensed through her haze.

“Yuqi, get up,” you said, voice rough. She obeyed, dragging herself upright, though her lids barely cracked open—exhaustion weighing them down. You pulled her onto your lap, her thighs straddling yours, facing you. Your thrusts resumed, slower now, and she felt your mouth on her breast—lips sucking, tongue flicking her nipple, a wet, warm pull that sparked faint jolts through her chest. Her arms trembled as she propped herself against you.

Slowly, you reclined back, and Yuqi’s hands slid to the headboard, gripping it for balance. She didn’t know when it happened—her mind too foggy to track—but she realized she was moving, humping you on her own, hips rolling instinctively against your steady length. Her pace faltered, exhaustion creeping in, slowing her down. Then you took over—your hands gripped her hips, and you pumped up into her again, reigniting the fire in her core with each thrust.

Her hand shot to your hair, fingers twisting tight, yanking your face close. Her tongue lolled out, desperate, and you met it—your tongue tangling with hers, a sloppy, wet dance that tasted of sweat and need. “Hug me,” she rasped, tongue still out, voice thick. “Hug me,” she begged again, more frantic, a plea trembling on her lips.

Yuqi felt you overpower her—your arms wrapped around her, pulling her down until she crashed onto her back. She clung to you, arms looping around your neck, legs locking tight around your waist, holding you deep inside her. Any second now, she knew it—both of you teetering on the edge. Her thighs parted wider, welcoming your thrusts, her body aching for release.

Then it came. Her orgasm hit like a tidal wave—her walls seized around you, spasming hard, a gush of heat flooding her core as she shattered. She felt you pull out mid-clench, your cock slipping free, and a split second later, the hot, thick splatter of your cum streaked across her skin—her belly, her thighs—branding her as her own climax pulsed through. Her moans choked off, her vision blurred, and her consciousness slipped away, fading to black as the last shudder rocked her limp frame.

~~~

Yuqi woke up to warmth—soft fabric against her skin, the dull ache in her limbs, and the distant hum of the world outside.

Her brows furrowed, still caught in the haze of sleep, but something felt… off. The scent in the air wasn’t quite hers. The bed didn’t feel quite right.

Then, as she shifted, the sensation of bare skin against unfamiliar sheets jolted her fully awake.

Her eyes snapped open. Sunlight streamed through her curtains, too bright, too loud, as her pulse pounded in her ears. Her room. She was in her room. But—

The sheets. They weren’t hers.

Panic flared in her chest as fragments of last night started to piece themselves together.

Her breath hitched.

Oh. Oh, shit.

She sat up too fast, wincing as soreness bloomed through her body. That was another thing—the ache in her muscles, the evidence of everything she’d done, everything she’d let happen.

And then, finally, she noticed—

The oversized shirt slipping past her shoulder, familiar but not hers.

Your shirt. Her grip on the fabric tightened.

This wasn’t happening.

But the soreness in her body told her it was. The unfamiliar sheets told her it was. Your shirt draped over her skin—your scent clinging to it—told her it was.

Yuqi’s breath came uneven as the full weight of what she’d done crashed over her.

She’d slept with you.

You.

Her friend. Her longtime friend.

A sharp pang of regret twisted in her chest, not because she hadn’t wanted it—God, that was the worst part—she had wanted it. She had kissed you back, had let you undress her, had clung to you like you were the only thing keeping her grounded.

But she hadn’t expected it. Not like this. Not when she wasn’t ready to risk everything.

Not when it could ruin you.

She raked her hands through her hair, cursing under her breath. How the hell did she let it get this far? How the hell did she let herself fall?

The silence of the room felt suffocating. And you—where were you? Were you regretting it too? Were you somewhere in the apartment, figuring out how to tell her this was a mistake?

Her stomach churned at the thought.

The smell of food drifted into the room, warm and familiar.

Yuqi swallowed hard, gripping the edge of the bedsheet.

You’re cooking.

That meant you were still here. That meant you hadn’t run off in regret, hadn’t left her alone in this mess she didn’t know how to clean up.

Maybe… maybe it’s not too late.

If she just acted normal—if she pretended last night was a mistake, a stupid, drunken slip-up—maybe things wouldn’t have to change.

Maybe she wouldn’t have to lose you.

Yuqi exhaled sharply, pressing her fingers to her temples. Her thoughts spiraled, one after the other, faster than she could catch them.

What if you wanted to forget too? What if you were in the kitchen right now, thinking of ways to brush it off, to laugh about it, to shove it in the back of your minds where it could rot, untouched?

Could you both really pretend it didn’t happen? Could she?

She forced herself out of bed, her legs weak beneath her, the oversized fabric of your shirt hanging off her frame. She had to face you. She had to fix this before it shattered into something she couldn’t repair.

With careful steps, she made her way to the kitchen.

And there you were. Standing by the stove, spatula in hand, acting like this was just any other morning.

Her chest clenched.

Maybe it could be. Maybe if she played it right, you could go back.

She took a deep breath, steadied herself, then tried.

“So,” she started, keeping her voice light. Too light. “What’s for breakfast, chef?”

You turned slightly, meeting her gaze. And for a second—just a second—something flickered in your expression.

Something unreadable.

But then you smirked. “Figured you’d need something to get your strength back after last night.”

Her stomach dropped.

She forced a laugh. “Oh, shut up.”

You plated the food, setting it on the counter. “Not hungry?”

Yuqi hesitated. Her fingers curled around the hem of your shirt—her only layer of protection against the vulnerability clawing up her throat.

This was slipping. She could feel it.

“Look,” she said, trying to sound casual, like she wasn’t barely holding herself together. “Last night was… you know. We were drunk, and it just… happened.”

You didn’t respond immediately. Instead, you grabbed a glass of water, taking a slow sip before setting it down.

Then, you leveled her with a look.

“And?”

Yuqi blinked. “And?”

You leaned against the counter, arms crossing over your chest. “Are you trying to say it was a mistake?”

Her mouth opened. Nothing came out.

Because that’s not what she meant—not really.

But if she didn’t say it, if she didn’t put that distance back, she didn’t know what would happen.

She didn’t know if she could handle what would happen.

“I just think,” she tried again, voice weaker this time, “that we should just… go back. Like before. We don’t have to—”

“Yuqi. You know that's bullshit.”

She froze.

"That was four cans between us. You can drink five alone and still balance on a pole—don't act like that was the reason.”

The way you said her name—steady, firm, like you’d already made up your mind—it made her stomach twist.

“Before isn’t an option,” you said simply.

Four cans.

That’s all it was. Just four stupid cans.

And yet, here you were, looking at her like you were about to ruin everything.

The air in the room shifted—her room, but suddenly it didn’t feel like hers anymore. The sheets smelled like you, the oversized shirt hanging off her shoulders wasn’t hers either. Nothing felt like hers anymore, not even her own body, sore in places she had no right to acknowledge.

Her stomach twisted, panic crawling up her throat. No. No, no, no—

Her gaze dropped to the floor, unable—unwilling—to look at you. If she saw your face, if she saw the regret, the indifference, or worse, the pity—it would break her.

“I didn’t mean for this to happen,” she blurted, voice thin, barely holding together. Maybe if she said it first, if she got ahead of it, she could stop whatever came next.

But then—

“Yuqi, being friends with you has been fun, but—”

But.

That one word shattered everything.

No. Not like this. Not you.

“But what?” Her voice cracked, too raw, too exposed. “Is that it? Over just like that?”

You didn’t say anything, and it made her chest tighten, like her ribs were caving in.

“Did you hate it that much?” she forced out, her hands fisting in the fabric of the sheets.

“No, Yuqi, not like that. Let me talk—”

“To what? To hear your excuse?” Her voice rose, frantic now. “How can you talk so calmly? Is that how it is? I’m the only one who actually valued this friendship? I make one mistake, and you’re already ready to leave?”

“Yuqi. Look at me.”

There was a weight in the way you said her name—stern, unyielding—but she didn’t want to hear it. Couldn’t.

Her breath hitched. Her hands trembled as she dug them into the mattress, nails pressing into the fabric, grounding herself.

“Why can’t you just stay?” Her voice was barely above a whisper now, desperate, fraying at the edges. “I’m sorry, okay? This—this was a one-time thing. That’s it. So you don’t have to leave. It doesn’t mean anything.”

It was a lie. A pathetic, miserable lie.

But if saying it kept you from walking away, then she’d let it shatter her.

Except—

Before she could breathe, before she could take it back—

Your lips crashed into hers.

You knew what she was thinking. You knew how much she was spiraling, how the weight of her own fears was crushing her. And maybe—probably—it was best to just tell her, to stop her panic before it got any worse.

But watching her like this, hopelessly caught in her own misunderstanding, her pride stripped away, her vulnerability laid bare… you couldn’t help but find her cute.

So you kissed her.

When you pulled away, her breath was shaky, her wide eyes darting between yours.

“Will you listen to me now?”

She nodded—barely, hesitantly—before her gaze dropped back to the floor.

You sighed. “Yuqi, we’ve been friends for a while—”

Her head shot up so fast you almost laughed. Her eyes were glassy, lips parted as if she was about to say something—

But before she could, you kissed her again, swallowing whatever words she had.

“We’ve been friends for a while,” you repeated against her lips, softer this time. “And I thought we were always going to stay that way. But this past year…”

She was shaking now, small, uneven trembles as her tears finally spilled over. She pouted, biting her lip, trying so hard to keep it together. You placed a hand on her head, fingers threading through her hair, petting her gently.

That was the trigger.

The dam broke.

Her shoulders shook as she let out a muffled, choked sob, burying her face into your chest.

You couldn’t help but chuckle. “But this past year, Yuqi…” You wiped her tears away with your thumbs, tilting her face up so she had no choice but to look at you. “I realized how dumb I was to keep thinking of you as just a friend. An amazing woman like you—you’re funny, you’re smart, you work hard, you’re pre—beautiful, and above all, you’re confident in everything you do…”

Then, with a smirk, you added, “And it’s absolutely hilarious when you’re wrong.”

She punched you—hard enough to send the message, but too weak to actually hurt.

“What I’m trying to say is, I like you. And just like you, I was scared of losing you too, Yuqi.”

She sniffled, hastily wiping at her face, the reality of your words finally sinking in.

“…That’s why, um—”

“What?!”

“I’m asking—can we be together?”

Her breath hitched.

And then, with no warning, the tears came rushing back as she smacked your chest. “Of course we can, you idiot! Why didn’t you say that first?!”

You had no excuse, only laughter. You pulled her into your arms, and she clung to you just as tightly.

“Yuqi…” you whispered, lips brushing against her ear.

You kissed her cheek. Then her forehead. Then her lips. Slowly, tenderly, you moved downward, pressing soft kisses along her jaw, her neck—

And then, a loud growl rumbled through the silence.

Yuqi stiffened.

You froze.

And then—

You let out a loud snort.

Yuqi turned bright red. “Don’t—don’t laugh! I hate you.”

You grinned, pulling away just enough to meet her eyes. “I like you.”

She huffed, still flustered.

You raised an eyebrow, teasing. “Do you at least like my cooking?”

Her voice was small, barely above a mumble.

“…I—I like it.”

You smirked, reaching for her hand, your fingers brushing her sweat-damp skin. “Then come on, let’s eat before you actually pass out on me.”

But just as you turned toward the kitchen, a sharp tug yanked you back.

Her grip was firm on your wrist.

“What is it?” you asked, pivoting to face her.

Yuqi hadn’t moved, her body squirming slightly, thighs pressing together. Her hands fisted over the oversized shirt—your shirt—clutching the fabric low over her stomach like she could hide her itch you could scratch away. Her chest heaved, tits straining against the fabric, nipples poking through—already hard from the kiss earlier. Her face was red, not from embarrassment of her stomach, but from the heat that you just have built up.

She was still breathless, her chest rising and falling unevenly, her skin flushed in a way that had nothing to do with exhaustion.

And her eyes—dark, hungry, locked onto you like she was barely holding herself back.

Your grin deepened.

You leaned in, close enough that she could feel the heat of your breath against her lips, but not close enough to give her what she wanted.

“Let’s eat first,” you murmured, your voice low, teasing.

Then, smirking, you added, “After, you can beg me to fuck you again.”

She shook, a quick, horny tremble.

And just like that, you pulled away, already heading toward the kitchen.

You didn’t have to look back to know she was still standing there, fuming, frustrated, and—most of all—waiting.

a/n: thanks for reading, also thoughts on the switching pov while maintaining 2nd pov ("you" pronoun)? Or is using 3rd person pov when in idols pov better?

[deadsetobsessions]

Fae adjacent! Danny pt. 2

Timothy Drake hadn’t figured out what Danny Fenton was. The shop keeper had been kind, something the nine year old hadn’t expected when he walked into Danny’s shop, willing to trade away his name and soul to get Jason back.

As the young man tilted his head at Jason’s grave, something distinctly inhuman crossing his face as he smelt the soil, Tim had the slightest inkling that he didn’t want to know.

Tim, despite what most people would say, had some kind of self preservation instinct. He wouldn’t have survived traipsing after vigilantes in Gotham this long if he didn’t.

He did not want to find out what kind of creature Danny Fenton could be when enraged. (Despite the fear, something in Tim trilled in Danny presence. Safety, it said. Acceptance.)

——

Danny hummed. The soil here had been disturbed. The dead had not stayed dead. Danny smirked. He knew a bit about not staying dead.

“Your Jason isn’t here, little Sparrow.”

“What?”

“See the soil?”

The little sparrow- Tim- curiously looked down. Danny was sure the kid was smart and a few seconds later, he was proven right.

“The soul’s fresh. Overturned. Someone dug him up? No. An indent. No soil on the outside of the burial, it’s not square- he dug himself up?”

Danny sent the little sparrow an approving smile. “Well, Gotham was never known for its rule abiding citizens, dead or not.”

The little sparrow sighed. “Great. He’s a zombie now?”

“Not quite. Come, we will find your brother.”

“He's, uh, not my brother.”

Danny blinked, pausing. “You would give your name for someone who isn’t family?”

Tim flushed. “He’s- he’s my hero!”

"He'd better be thankful for this, then. What a good friend you are, little sparrow."

Tim lowered his voice, "He doesn't know I exist?”

Danny stared at him and wondered if Phantom ever had anyone who would give their names for him. He also wondered if the standard for human stupidity had lowered since he woke up.

“You see how that's worse, right?"

"Can we get this done, please? Preferably before Batman comes out at night?"

"There are worse things than the Bat, but yes, we may. This way."

As Danny led the way, following the scent of a newly retethered soul and trace amounts of what this world called Lazarus Pits, he found himself wondering who taught this kid his self preservation instincts because they needed to be fired. Tim had followed him, through shady alleys and darkened roads, without a thought for his own safety.

They reached the door of what clearly was a pixie den. Before Danny entered, he turned to Tim. "You, little sparrow, would be the first to be murdered in a poorly done horror movie. Now, stay here while I get Jason."

With that said and satisfaction taken from Tim's flabbergasted and insulted face, Danny headed inside the pixie den to collect the wayward soul.

——

"It's Danny!"

"Danny!"

The pixies in the room cheered as he walked in. Their teeth were a bit too sharp, ears a little too pointed, with shirts that did not fit quite right at their backs.

"Hey, guys." Danny strode to the room, following the scent of Jason's soul. "

"Ah, interested in our fresh catch?" One of the more... prolific pixies sidled up to him. "I think we'll make good entertainment of this boy yet. Maybe even the king would like a gift. His soul's pretty strong, mind's almost dead though."

Danny turned to the pixie and smiled. "I'm coming to collect on my contract, unfortunately."

The bar fell to complete silence. The mist and haze of the bar settled and drew back from the tinge of green in Danny's eyes. Oberon might have ruled his court but Danny's court was above even his.

"Oh- I. Yes, of course, please." The pixie stepped back hastily. Danny strode the rest of the way, content in the unnatural silence of the normally chatty pixies. He picked Jason up from the seat, frowning as he caught the scent of mind numbing herbal paste in the food in front of the kid.

"The children," he uttered commandingly. "Are off limits."

"But-!"

Danny clicked his tongue chidingly as he began leading the unsteady kid out the door.

"It isn't quite the days of old anymore, where people are aware of normal trickery. If an adult falls for your schemes, then that is on them. Children? No. To pick on a newly tethered soul is too far into my court for me to turn a blind eye."

"How are we supposed to do anything with the bat watching the skies?"

"Then fly below him," Danny drew his lips back, allowing Phantom to flicker onto his human face and warping it to something more inhuman. Like them.

"We understand," the bar's proprietor agreed. "Your word will be heard and heeded, king of another court."

"Much appreciated."

——

"Jason!"

"One second, little sparrow." Danny focused, drawing upon the chaotic magic that laid beneath the thrum of ectoplasm. He, oddly enough, has had enough practice returning memories to make this process as easy as a twist of his hand. Jason went limp.

"Jason!" Tim's cry had a little more panic in it.

"Worry not, he's simply sleeping. Regained memories tend to be quite taxing." He shuffled Jason a little closer to Tim. "Here you are, little sparrow. One Jason, whole and generally unharmed."

Tim glanced at Jason and then at himself. He sheepishly looked at Danny. "Would you mind helping me get him back home?"

Danny tilted his head back and laughed.

[blvdprn]

VALENTINE’S DAY SPECIAL

# jjk men ; 柔術廻戦男 ) x domtop male reader

synopsis special day with your lovely boyfriend

ft. gojō, getō, nanami, tōji, & naoya

warnings non-specified nsfw, suguru’s part is shorter srry, slight homophobia & misogyny from naoya surprise surprise

wc not counted

It was your first ever Valentine’s Day with your boyfriend. Or rather, the first Valentine’s Day when neither of you was busy. Usually, one or the other had a job to do that day —seeing as work never rests— but today, finally, you were both free.

And you were pretty excited.

See, you’ve been planning a little something for a while. After a nice and romantic day filled with sexual tension and ending with a candle-lit dinner, a surprise was waiting for you and your boyfriend at home.

Your sex life wasn’t lacking per se, it was more so some things went unexplored because of an insufficient amount of time. Usually (and sadly), you guys had quickies. There was nothing special about it, it was just a way to relieve stress and show each other that yes you still find the other very appealing. I mean, how could you not? Living with an insanely attractive man and what’s that? Dating said, attractive man? Mmmm, yes, please.

Pushing the key into the lock after paying the bill and driving home, you were nearly shaking with anticipation for what was about to come. Opening the door to your shared house, you quickly pulled the man in, knowing damn well you’d get a noise complaint in the morning. Or at the very least, a nasty stink eye from your neighbours.

—GOJŌ SATORU ( 五条悟 ) : cock bondage

“Fuck!”

“Mm— what’s wrong Satoru? I thought you could take it?”

Right now he was spread out so beautifully for you, knees touching his shoulders and ankles near your shoulders as a result of you pushing his thighs upwards. You were fucking him deep and slow at the moment, making him see stars.

Oh, and how could you forget the pretty pink ribbon tied under and between his balls, reaching the base of his cute red dick and creating a small bow.

“I-I can! This is nothINGGGHH,” cried the man under you, moaning the last part of his sentence.

You laughed. “Doesn’t seem like nothing, sweetheart.”

Satoru blushed even harder, whether from you calling him out or the endearing pet name, you couldn’t tell. Pouting a little, he scratches the hands holding his thighs down. “Just take this thing off… I want to cum already and this stupid thing won’t let me!”

“Awe,” you coo. “Other than giving your cock a nice touch, that was the whole point of it.”

“You’re a dick.”

“Yeah, but you’re taking this dick though!”

“Man just shut up and— FUUUCK!”

Your hips switched pace, from slow to fast, but equally as deep. You should thank all those stupid times Satoru dragged you out on a run for the insane speed you currently held.

“S-shit,” you groaned. “Look at your cute little dick. Looks s-so pretty with the bow…” And although his length was perfect (just like him) and you were just teasing, it really did look pretty. The light pink of the satin ribbon contrasted nicely with the darker shade of him.

Satoru could barely respond, overwhelmed with both the feeling of needing to cum but not being able to, and feeling your cock touching his prostate with every thrust. Slight tears left his eyes, blurring his vision from fully seeing the way small amounts of pre cum ran down the satin around him.

You noticed this, and feeling pity for your pathetic boyfriend, you let one of his thighs go in order to untie the ribbon, knowing you were at your limit too. Immediately, he threw his head back, letting out a loud and whiny moan that would surely wake the neighbours if they weren’t already awake.

Muffling his moan with a kiss, you pulled out right on time, both of your hot fluids mixing together and on his stomach.

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” you mumbled against his lips. Only receiving a slight laugh in response.

When you were about to pull away, his legs slid down, wrapping themselves around your hips and waist with surprising strength from someone who was just shaking.

“Where do you think you’re going, babe? We’re not done here yet.” Satoru said, staring at your eyes darkly, and all you could do was gulp.

‘Oh, boy.’

—GETŌ SUGURU ( 夏油 傑 ) : collaring

“Is this really necessary?”

“What?” you questioned. “You don’t like it?”

“Darling, it’s embarrassing.”

You huffed. “Which part? The leash or my name on it?”

“Both.” You could practically see him giving you a side eye from your question, even though his back was facing you.

“Well,” you hummed. “Just don’t think about it.”

“And how am I not supposed to do that?”

Expecting an answer, he didn’t imagine you would pull the leash back while giving a powerful thrust. Which is why he couldn’t control the loud and surprised moan that escaped from his lips.

“A-ah! A warning would’ve been n-nice.”

You shushed him. “Don’t think.”

“Mmh— this is going t-to make my throat sore…”

“Liar,” you tutted. “I’ve seen you swallow those curses. This is nothing for you, Suguru.”

He stayed silent, but not for long, because you started rapidly thrusting again with only one goal in mind.

“F-feels so good, darling!” He moaned, gripping the sheets below him, only being able to see your silhouette moving because of the small candles on each side of the bed. “Haaahh—”

Pulling the leash again, you lowered your body so your stomach was almost directly onto Suguru’s back and your face hooked onto his shoulder. In this position, his head was pulled back, and you were able to see the way the nameplate with your name on it moved with each of your thrusts.

Suguru moaned louder, somewhat liking how your name was engraved into something that was on him. He enjoyed the harsh feeling of the collar digging into his Adam’s apple. And he certainly savoured the sounds leaving your mouth that was directly behind his right ear.

Drool escaped his lips, having no choice but to let it fall out of his mouth because he wasn’t able to properly swallow it.

With one strong arm holding him up, he let the other grab your head, pulling you into a necessary and messy kiss. Gasping with every breath, his fingers tightened more and more on some of your longer strands, feeling himself about to cum.

“Darling— I’m ab-bout to—”

“It’s okay… You can cum more anyway.”

And with that, he knew the night was going to be long.

—NANAMI KENTO ( 七海建人 ) : wax play

Quiet pants slipped past your boyfriend’s lips. The heat of the wax on his skin was a great contrast to his cold body. It was embarrassing, how much he liked it. When you first brought it up, Kento was hesitant, never before trying something that was considered so… kinky (by his standards anyway, not yours).

“Ngh…” he moaned softly.

You smile at him, eyes bright with happiness. “It seems like you’re enjoying yourself, Kento.”

Pink dusted his cheeks, shamefully averting his eyes from your face. “It’s not as bad as I thought it would be.”

With amusement in your voice and a raised eyebrow, you ask, “Not as bad? But you’re making such cute noises.” Your teasing doesn’t stop there. “It’s bad to lie to the love of your life, you know, and on such a special day too.”

“Don’t tease. Fine, I like the warmth.”

“Of course you do, I knew you would.”

With that, you dipped the candle in your hand, hot wax falling and hitting the blonde man under you. His fit stomach clenched, abs pronounced more than normal as a result.

“By the way,” you muttered. “The wax turns into lotion.” To show him, you moved one of your fingers around some of the hardened wax, watching how it turned into liquid again, but this time it had a semi-cold watery texture. And to your enjoyment, you see the way his eyes watch and silently plea for your hands to move the wax somewhere else.

“That’s…” he begins, eyebrow twitching a bit. “Nice.”

“Very.”

Continuing to pour the hot wax down, down, down. You reach his naked thighs, seeing his pale skin slightly tremble. He wasn’t able to hold in the “hurry” that he covered by putting his hand over his mouth.

“S-shit!” Kento said, being muffled by his hand, letting out an uncharacteristic squeal the moment the blistering heat travelled to his inner thighs.

You chuckled, appreciating the almost once-in-a-lifetime view.

Closer and closer, all Kento was able to feel was a need that he never thought he’d have. A shameful and embarrassing thought rushed through his head, one that he wasn’t quite sure he could vocally tell you in fear that it was a little too much. But like always, you could read him like the back of your hand, so you knew exactly what he wanted.

“Fffffffuuuuuckk—” Was all he let out the moment the wax made contact with the base of his dick.

With an idea in your mind, you swiftly stained his cock with the red burning heat, hearing the desperate cries he let out for you to continue. Even louder moans reached your ears the moment your hand went into contact with it, sweetly massaging up and down so the now lotion wasn’t able to cool down quickly enough.

Kento unexpectedly reached down, grabbing onto your hand so the lotion could be spread everywhere. From his balls to his stomach and up his pecs, it didn’t seem like he knew what he was doing, only trying to feel the fire-like warmth from smearing all over him.

With his moans in the air and his senseless voice sounding in the quiet night, you knew this was just starting. After all, you guys hadn’t even fucked yet.

—FUSHIGURO TŌJI ( 伏黒甚爾 ) : riding crop

Never in your fucking life did you think he was actually going to let you do this? I mean sure, you’ve explored a little bit before but you thought this was going to be too excessive for him, that he was even going to be annoyed with you.

But that wasn’t the case at all.

Sure he looked a little ticked off at first, but after thinking about it for a bit he laughed and challenged you.

Which is what brought you to now.

Toji’s strong form was lying on the rose-covered bed, something he scoffed at but you were sure you saw a tiny dust of pink on his cheeks before he turned away. His back was to you, a rare sight, seeing as it made him feel like he had no control. Although you were certain it also made him feel exposed and embarrassed if his red-coloured ears were anything to go by.

You could see his muscular back flexing with any slight movement he did, his veiny arms twitching and big biceps tightening.

All in all, he looked delicious.

The crop tightened in your hand, its leather end glided down the curve of Toji’s spine. A perfect fit, touching every nook and cranny, leaving absolutely nothing unmarked.

An annoyed huff left his nose. “Would you hurry it up?”

You tsked, “Patience.”

“That’s something I don’t have right now and you know it. Unless you don’t know what you’re fucking doing?”

With a hum, you decided to give him what he wanted, knowing this was going to be the last time you did so tonight.

A harsh slap was heard when leather hit unblemished skin, turning it into a soft pink.

Toji’s shoulders stiffened, and you were sure he held in any sounds he was about to make.

“Hey,” you called out. “Don’t hold your noises in.”

“I’m not, you’re just weak.”

‘Right.’

Hit. Again.

Hit. Again.

Hit. Again.

This continued on until his back was covered in colour, yet nothing escaped his lips. Not until the leather hit his ass.

“Fu—”

Continuing your assault on his round ass, you never gave him enough time to complain. And even though it was embarrassing for him, he was glad you didn’t stop, because he knew he wasn’t going to be able to say anything anyway, and it felt so good.

When you knew bruises were going to form, you stopped to turn Toji around, letting the crop trail from his giant pecs to his twitching dick. Only then did you notice that he had come already, but the look in his eyes was telling you to hit something else.

And who were you to deny? Guess he really had you wrapped around his finger.

—ZEN’IN NAOYA ( 禪院直哉 ) : feminisation

“What the fuck is this?” Were the only words to come out of your boyfriend when he saw the short red dress with a frilly skirt on your shared bed.

“A present.”

“It’s a fucking dress. Do I look like a damn woman to you?”

Ah yes, you decided this was going to be a slight punishment for all the times he’s said some dumb shit about women.

“You call women whores. Maybe I should treat you like one so you can know the difference, no?”

Naoya’s eyes screamed in rage, how dare you compare him to them? “It’s bad enough I’m with you —a man who can’t even give me an offspring— but now you want me to be a stupid woman?” His fists were clenched and ready to beat some sense into you (as if he could). “You fucking—”

And then suddenly his top half was leaning on the edge of the bed, wrists pinned behind his back by your hands, and his legs trying to keep himself up to not slide down and fall to the floor.

He hiccuped, not understanding how one minute he was about to launch a punch at you, then the next he had the stupid dress on with the skirt flipped up so as to not get in the way of your continuous thrusts.

“Awe,” you coo mockingly. “What happened to all the talking back? I thought you didn’t want to wear this, but look at you! Looking all pretty and taking me so well. Now aren’t you a doll?”

Naoya was so fucking embarrassed, both by your words and what he was wearing. Why did he like this?

“S-shut the fuck uP— NGHH!”

With only one of your hands pinning his wrists, the other slipped past the cloth of the dress on the chest area. Luckily, your arms were long enough, so there was no need to take your eyes off his hole swallowing your dick, just to pinch one of his nipples.

“I’m not a w-whore! Stop it!” He cried out, but really, he didn’t want you to stop.

“Really?” You pulled on his perky nipple, feeling the way he clenched around you. “But your pussy seems to like it when I play with your tits?”

He whined, slight sobs making his shoulders shake. “Not a pussy!”

You moaned, liking how his voice rose when he said that. “You’re so wet here though.” And with that, your other hand let go of his wrists, Naoya hastily having to grab the sheets under him.

Your hand slipped around his surprisingly slim waist, grabbing a handful of his nodding cock and tracing your thumb against the slit.

“See? You’re so sensitive when I touch your clit.”

Naoya’s mind went blank, everything around him went ignored except for your words and the pleasurable feeling you gave him everywhere your hands and dick touched. Before he knew it, he came, panting against the sheets stained with his drool.

But, oh, you weren’t done with him yet. You still hadn’t come after all.

notes: better late than nvr! i ws planning on writing for sukuna & choso too but ran out of time so 🤷

[mochinomnoms]

Silly JadeYuu idea but!!

I've seen it so often in fanfics where Jade can dig up info on literally anyone in the school, so he decides to get his hands on any and all information on The Prefect as he can.

Except, there really isn't a lot to dig up on The Prefect, is there? Don't get him wrong, Jade loves a challenge but it seems like he forgot that Yuu didn't even exist in Twisted Wonderland before September, there is no digital footprint to doomscroll through, no hometown he can research and become an over night expert on. Crowly doesn't even have your birthdate recorded on file!!

All Jade has to go of off learning anything he can about Yuu is your besties Adeuce and Grim (awful, he'd die before he let's himself owe Ace Trappola a favour) or ask you all about yourself which...sounds almost too easy to work, right?

Or something 💦

Aaaaa it's such a predicament for him! At first, he didn't really need to gather too much information on you, but now that he's interested and needs to know you inside and out, the weirdly limited amount of information about you is concerning....

this can take place in the later chapters of ptm when you are starting to pine back for jade~

tags: @ghousus

Jade had meant an unfortunate roadblock. Which was rare for him, especially when it came to intel.

It only took him but a few days to compile the intel on his dorm's freshmen for Azul, he even managed to find students' secret social media accounts.

Yet you were simultaneously NRC's worst and best kept secret.

He's positive that Crowley had intended to keep your transdimensional status a secret to but himself and the staff, yet it became increasingly obvious as the last school year progressed that you were not from this world.

If the lack of basic magical knowledge for didn't tip someone off, the gap in basic history facts and the random things you spewed out did.

"WHY IS THE CAT'S EARS ON FIRE? AND BLUE?" "Is that, like, your actual ears and tail or?" "Wait, so you're not an elf? Isn't that the same thing as a fae?" "Oh yeah we have a story about a kid and a beanstalk too! No guns on school grounds though, too many school shootings." "HOLY FUCK WHY DO YOU HAVE SCALES?" "I'm not making it up, people back home go to space, we have flags on the moon! You mean to tell me you guys didn't have a space race or something? ...What do you mean what's the point!? IT'S THE MOON!"

No one could really fault you for your cluelessness, thought Jade found it quite cute.

Unfortunately, that made it difficult to find information on you, especially back when Azul task him with finding dirt on you to get Ramshackle.

"I'm sorry to say Azul, but there is no information on Ramshackle's prefect prior to their attendance here. Not even evidence of their birth." "Well look harder! It's not like they popped out of nowhere! I need that dorm Jade, so do your job and find me something I can work with!"

After Azul's...outburst shall he say, and their discovery that the Prefect did actually pop out of nowhere, Jade has held it over his head quite smugly.

He wasn't so smug anymore, though, not when he was so invested in getting your heart and keeping it all to himself. Hard to do when there was little to no information about you.

Here's what Jade did know:

You liked dancing, though you weren't particularly good at it. Same with singing.

Silver had taken to teaching you how to use a sword, and you were quite good at it.

You tend to split your meals with Grim, even when offered your own plate.

Sam's soda that Azul had acquired last year was your favorite drink. You also liked the milkshakes at the lounge, though you rarely got them.

You scare easily and are near incapable of scaring someone else.

You were reckless when it came to your friends, to the point that you've nearly died about 9 times since arriving to their world.

And, of course, there were the little things that Jade noticed. Like the way the color in your eyes brightened in the sun.

Or the way you picked at your nails when nervous.

And the way you purse your lips when you get confused.

Oh! He thought the way you chewed on your pen was awfully cute.

Ah, the way you looked at him sometimes with an embarrassed look was something he's come to memorize. He's memorized many of your various facial expressions...like the one you made when you caught him staring at you. Despite his best efforts.

It's like you knew he was thinking about you...

He also knew that you liked to hide your smile and laughter when either got too big, big enough to show your teeth and gums. Big enough to make you snort and cackle like a witch from one of those human children shows someone showed him once. He knew your laugh like the beat of his heart.

Jade knew a lot, and yet nothing at all about you. What was your family like? Friends back home? What did you study? What were you wanting to be? Did you have a pet? A partner?

Don't worry about the last question! He's just a bit curious about the company you keep is all.

In any case, your little group of friends throwing you your birthday party was the perfect excuse for him to delve into your personal life with a plausible excuse.

"I thought Grim would be doing the interview questions for them? It's all we're letting him do so we can throw the Prefect a decent party this time."

Most people remembered the 'party' that the group of five then freshmen tried throwing you. It was hastily put together, no white suit as traditionally provided for a first year's birthdays, and the cake was a pile of tuna cans that Grim placed several small candles on top of. Which promptly fell over, caught a window drape on fire, and nearly brought the whole of Ramshackle into a blaze.

It also wasn't your birthday at that time. (That at least is a piece of information he could get his hands on.)

Now Ortho was involved, and Jade wasn't positive if that decrease or increased the potential fire hazard.

"Last year he did, yes. However, since the new freshman have been taking residence in Ramshackle, they've taken over the yearbook duties."

Usually, Jade would be able to gather his intel with little to no help from others, especially considering most of the school logged their activities on their social medias by the minute. Plus, his father's “questionable” career provided him with ample access to private investigators and databases.

But when it came to you? He didn't have much of a choice other than to depend on others. How troublesome.

"Aspen offered to take over the interview along with his other party tasks, but the poor thing has been struggling to juggle all his duties at Ramshackle and in Octavinelle."

Lies. Aspen was doing perfectly well, but when Aspen complained rather loudly in the Mostro Lounge kitchen about having to do the interview, Jade was more than happy to offer to take all the tasks from him. No future payment or favor required.

Aspen, with pink cheeks and hearts in his eyes, was more than happy to hand all of his tasks over to Jade with little thought.

"Oh, I guess then…" Deuce looked back at Ace in the kitchen with Trey on a video call. Saying that he was attempting to make a cake would be generous.

"…You know what, it's fine. We got a lot going on here. But, uh, when you're asking the Prefect about their ideal party, the sort of presents they like, and the usual stuff, try to be discreet. It's supposed to be a surprise!"

Jade raised a brow in amusement. "Really? How did you manage to get them fitted for their birthday jacket? I imagine that would be hard to keep a surprise."

Ace turned around, cradling a bowl in one arm and waving a wooden spoon. Jade is positive he could hear Trey cry out at him to not wave the batter around.

"Epel told them that Vil wanted them to come by to that film festival we when to last year, and needed to measure them for it."

The ginger flinched at Trey's voice chastising him through the phone.

"Hey! You asked for my help now pay attention before you drop the entire bowl and have to start over!"

"Okay! Okay! Jeez, you're almost as bad as Riddle when it comes to baking…" Ace grumbled, scrunching his nose like a child being scolded by his parents.

Jade withheld an amused snort at the thought, turning back around to Deuce to give him a polite nod and smile.

"Well then, it seems that you both have your work cut out for you. I'll leave you to it then."

Turning to leave, Jade ignored Deuce 'whispering' to Ace.

"Are we sure he should be asking them all these questions? You know how they'll probably get…"

Their voices faded out as he left Heartslabyul's kitchen, out the lounge, and to the entrance. He had previously been joined by Floyd, but his brother took off to find his favorite person entertainment.

Based on the rising voice of Riddle somewhere off in the rose maze, Floyd was successful.

Now, it was his turn to find his own favorite person.

You weren't hard to find, just follow the loud direbeast's noises, and you were bound to be there. It also helped that Jade had memorized your weekly schedule.

They should be finishing up their flight class soon, so I'll check the fields first.

It wasn't a particular trek, but it was a bit a walk from the Hall of Mirrors. Though, with how vast the campus was, it was expected.

Maybe he can stop at Sam's to grab a nice cold water to offer you. After all, he needs to demonstrate just how caring and dependable he is for you, and he'll start digging his place in to your heart!

Though, it seems that you were ahead of schedule, currently making your way to Ramshackle. Limping, even.

Oh dear, did you get hurt my pearl! I hope you're alright.

Like always, you seemed to sense him before he could even process your presence.

Those pretty, mesmerizing eyes widened, blinking at him with a piercing stare.

"Jade, hey, what are you doing here?"

Jade had to keep himself from running towards you like he wanted, instead taking a leisurely pace as you jogged towards him.

"Hello Prefect," My darling pearl~ "What a coincidence, I was just on my way to see you."

You gave him a knowing smile, eyes squinting as you did.

"Birthday, right?"

"Oh? And here I thought it was a secret~"

You snorted, covering your mouth to cover your grin. Cute.

"I have my...ways!" You looked to the side, pursing your lips before looking back at him. "But I'm guessing you got wrapped up in helping somehow?"

Again, that look, like you already knew the answer to your own question.

"Yes, I offered to help get a list of important party preferences for your friends. I do believe Deuce in particular is worried about your gift preferences."

Personally, I think the sea glass ring I had commissioned is going to be your favorite. But I'd rather exchange the gift privately, more intimately...cherish your reaction.

The thought of you, looking at him completely dazzled and struck by his confession was a fond thought. To finally make you his and his alone would be a dream. He just needed to know your idea date, which is what this little mission of his could help with.

"You know Jade, you don't have to find an excuse to find things out about me." Jade blinked, feeling himself warm up under your gaze.

How do you always...

"Oh?" Jade chuckled, hiding his smile behind a fist. "Did I give off that impression? I'm simply providing my assistance to those in need."

You rolled your eyes, pausing as you made eye contact with him and looked at your feet in embarrassment.

"No you don't—I mean not intentionally—I can just tell..." Jade let his smile soften into something more fond as he watched you stumble over your words.

"It's alright, I am always curious." And you just happen to be a strong topic of interest. "There is very little known about you, are you aware that you didn't have a student file up until a few months ago?"

Squinting your eyes at him in suspicion, you poked an accusatory finger into his chest.

"And why do you know that? I thought Azul didn't need you to dig up dirt on anyone since last fall."

Placing a hand on his chest, Jade pouted. "That's rather harsh little pearl, I prefer the term 'conducting research', it sounds much nicer. Besides..."

Jade couldn't help but give you a smug smirk, curling his finger for you to come closer. Hesitating, you leaned in on your tiptoes as he leaned down. His gray strand brushed against your cheek as he heard you take in a sudden breath.

In a soft, low, almost heady voice, he whispered, "...you're just something I'm particularly interested in. I want to know you inside and out~"

Oh, how he delighted in seeing you fumble back and clasp your hands together in a fluster. Though, from the heat in his cheeks, he's probably no better off right now.

Covering your lower face in your hand, Jade could just barely make out your muttering.

"When did you get so direct..."

As quickly as he got that sweet reaction, you straightened up and smiled at him.

"Well, as long as your helping the others, I can give you my free time." You gestured for Jade to follow you to your dorm, swinging your arms as you walked.

Before you even made a few feet, you stopped and turned back to Jade with a shy expression.

"Um...but you don't need an excuse to go out or anything like that." Jade felt an electric shock fly up his spine as you gingerly reached for his right hand.

Your thumb rubbed over his hand in a tender gesture, like you were trying relax him as the tingling sensations and the rapid beating of his heart increased.

"I'd like to be with—or, I mean, be around you more." You looked like you were burning up with embarrassment, while he rejoiced internally.

YES YES YES! I want to be with you! I want you, let me have you! You will won't you?

"...Of course, I'd like that too." Jade brought the hand holding his up to his lips, barely brushing the skin with a kiss. "I'm more than happy to indulge my whims, why not take advantage of you offering?"

You both made eye contact, staring into each other as if waiting for the other to make a move.

Gods, I love you...

It didn't take long for you to jerk your hand back, looking up at him with a like he just confessed his love and offered his soul to you.

He didn't say that out loud...right?

"Um, let's head to Ramshackle to talk." You turned back around and started quickly walking, leaving Jade to catch up to you, though with his legs it wasn't hard. "I wanna get out of my uniform..."

I could help with that~

"I'll just change into something really baggy! Nice and comfy!" You let out a nervous laugh as you continued walking.

Makes for easier access~

He wasn't sure what was in your way, but somehow you managed to trip over air and smack into the ground.

[seungfl0wer]

Minho As Your Boyfriend

Bangchan | Minho | Changbin | Hyunjin | Han | Felix | Seungmin | Jeongin

Contains Smut🩷

(I had to stop myself on this one man. I could go on about how I think Minho is. For real stopped at one point and said damn. It’s already so long lol.)

-🩵

•He’s such a big push over especially for you.

•He really can’t say no to you.

•As much as he acts all tough and non caring that’s just what he wants you to think.

•He’s such a mushy guy with you.

•Non-Stop flirting.

•Hand holding.

•Hand holding.

•Did I mention hand holding?

•He brings your hand up to kiss it so sweetly.

•But if you dare to mention it he’ll give you that look.

•Small acts of kindness.

•Like making sure you always have your favorite snacks.

•Or bringing you something back from your and acting all nonchalant like.

•Gives you quick cheek kisses and act like nothing happened.

•Finds it so fucking cute how much he makes you blush/smile.

•Has THE WORST picture of you as his background.

•Laughs about it all the time but just finds you adorable.

•Like I said before mans acts like he’s all tough and cold.

•But really he is just such a softy.

•He loves the mornings where he doesn’t have to get up.

•Where he can just lay next to you.

•Cuddle up, all cozy. These days he’d stay in bed for hours just to feel you close.

•He really loves to cuddle.

•One of his favorite things to do is have you wrapped in his arms.

•Where he has his head against your shoulder listing to you hum/breath.

•He likes laying you on his chest so you have to look up to him to talk.

•Ugh just how soft and sleepy you look makes his heart melt.

•And back to listening to you, he loves laying his head on your chest/back.

•So he can hear the beautiful rhythm of your heart beat.

•Don’t get me wrong though he is a menace.

•Will tease you.

•However he knows his limit.

•It just takes one time for something he said to mildly upset you to know how far he can go/take it.

•And that first time? He feels absolutely awful.

•He might like to push your buttons but never wanting to push the one that may hurt you in anyway.

•He’s super protective of you and a bit possessive.

•He’s not very confrontational however someone says something rude to you?

•That quick tongue of his is either being bitten or snapping at someone.

•Also if someone is being too flirty or touching you?

•He’s right there wrapping his arm around you, kissing you. Anything to show them you’re his.

•You’re quite literally his whole world.

•Minus his cat babies of course.

•And oh god the amount of fondness and just pure love when he sees you with them.

•That’s his wallpaper.

•You and his children. Ah does he gush over it.

•Loves to get all pouty when you’re giving them more attention.

•”I know dori is cute but I’m cuter”

•People tend to look at him and just see this cold man but truly. He is just so caring.

•He remembers all your important dates, takes so good care of you.

•And just spoils you like there’s no tomorrow.

•Truly and utterly loves you with everything in him.

︵‿︵‿୨Smut Below୧‿︵‿︵

•Minho in the bedroom? Is a slightly different story.

•He’s still so enamored by you so in love but.

•He’s more- more of the Scorpio man he is.

•He’s so passionate and possessive.

•Very much a dom.

•Loves having you so obedient to him.

•Multiple rounds most days.

•Degrading, Spanking, Biting, Overstimulation, begging. Everything.

•Definitely loves giving you hickeys on your neck so others can see them.

•Loves to be called sir.

•Firm believer of him calling you kitten as well.

•Mans so good. His tongue, his hands, those fucking dancer hips.

•You’ll never leave without cumming.

•Even on the most rough days. As much as he wants to not let you cum.

•He will. Of course he will, especially when you beg so well for it.

•Remember when I said about cuddling?

•So much morning sex where he’s just sloppily fucking you.

•He’s still half asleep when he’s pushing into you hands slinking round your body.

•Holding you so close whispering hot words against your ear.

•”aah kitten, feel so good just for me”

•Uses that voice, that soft voice he uses for the cats or that one episode with Felix and him in the haunted house.

•That sweet soft voice.

•Definitely has a breeding/primal kink.

•”Gonna fill you full, pump you so full you have all my babies”

•God and he absolutely goes feral when you ride him.

•Seeing your face so fucked out for him as you use him for your pleasure.

•Ah he could come then and there.

•Almost forgot to talk about how he loves taking you camping too.

•Having you outside fucking you so good.

•”Must want everyone to hear how well I’m fucking you”

•Light system in use all the time

•Aftercare is a lot of his sweet hum and coo’s of “my good kitten, did so well for me. I love you so much”

•Has snacks on stand by and drinks

•Cleans you up before himself.

•If it’s a rougher night is constantly asking if you’re ok.

•Is always afraid of hurting you in some way.

•Ends most nights with you cuddled together waiting on take out because he wants to make sure you’re replenished.

💙 If you’d like to read more of my stuff you can find it Here: Master List . Thank you for reading and if requests are open or you just wanna talk feel free to send me something🩵

[jayparked]

can u do 52 and 76 with jay🥺🥺 (quite he is yandere if u wanted too?)

WARNINGS: IMPLIED MAFIA AU???? LMAO (idk where tf this came from), yandere jay? (idk if i did it right), possessive jay, he threatens to kill someone, orgasm denial, dom jay, marking, spanking, overstimulation, pet names, dirty talk, rough unprotected sex, fingering (why tf are there so many warnings for a drabble omfg)

WC: 811

"who is he?" jay demands. his jaw is clenched as he waits for your response, eyes wild and frantic.

"i- jay i told you. my father insists i be seen with him-"

jay's hand smacks the wall right by your face. although it makes you jump, you know he doesn't do it in an attempt to scare you. it's just a way for him to let out the emotions he's feeling stirring inside.

"your father," jay snarls and pulls away from you, laughing maniacally while shaking his head until his hair is falling over his eyes, "i bite my tongue, follow every order- excel at every mission assigned to me, and he still doesn't see that i'm the one he should be trusting you with." disbelief is dripping from his tone.

your shoulders relax and you take a step towards him. "jay," you whisper softly, "it's purely transactional, you know that. my father just wants me to be seen with this guy so his competition backs off and finds new territory. i promise he won't get in our way."

"i'll kill him. that'll surely get him out of the way." jay laughs again, the muscles in his back tensing even more.

"i promise what's-his-name will be gone before we know it."

jay pauses, pointer finger pressed firmly to his lips before he turns and points it at you with a sly smile. "you don't know his name."

you're about to reply when you realize it's not a question, but a confident realization. so, you smile softly and wait instead.

you didn't have to wait long. because just moments later jay is pushing your head down into the mattress with your ass up in the air; the perfect position for him to lay possessively harsh smacks against your skin while he rapidly pounds his raw cock deep inside your cunt. your neck and chest are littered with fresh bright red hickeys and bite marks, his desperate way of claiming you.

"'s too much!" you cry out, eyes shut tightly as your toes start to curl with the amount of pleasure building up throughout your body. jay's pace is relentless, his hand smacking the swell of your ass yet again making you yelp. the sting brings a fresh string of tears to your eyes, your hands fisting at the bedsheets around you as some sort of leverage.

"fuuuck, baby. i can feel this tight little pussy gripping me even more. you want to come?"

"y-yes, I- please-"

"hmm...but do you really deserve to?" he leans forward until his face is next to yours, lips ghosting over the skin of your ear. "tell me who you belong to, baby. tell me who's the only person that gets to have you like this."

you scream out his name and jay promptly rewards you with a particularly harsh thrust. finally reaching your limit, your body lets go, the dam inside you bursting while your orgasm ripples throughout your body.

"that's it, baby, oh that's it," jay groans and flips you onto your back. your eyes flutter shut, expecting him to give you a break for a moment before he chases his own high. but, he clearly has other plans.

"oh i'm not done with you." his fingers fill the space his cock just stretched out, pushing your juices back inside at a cruel, slow pace. his fingers beckon you toward him, calling you back to pleasure as he watches your body tremble with overstimulation.

tears pool from the corners of your eyes, your nails digging into his biceps, desperate for him to ground you.

jay grabs your chin and turns your face towards his, grumbling out, "look at me."

immediately your eyes are open and meeting his hooded gaze.

"you know i'll do it right?" he grunts, "i'll kill anyone who thinks they have a chance with you. you're mine. i dont care what i have to do or who i have to hurt to make sure it stays that way." there's a hungry fire behind his eyes, his fingers picking up speed.

"mmm, fuck, oh my god. jay i-" your own moan interrupts you, the sentence long lost in the void of your mind as the painful pleasure he's inflicting upon you blinds all of your senses.

"look at you, squirming under me, all flushed and pretty looking. can't even take a little teasing, can you? i'll make sure no one else wants you with how badly i'm about to ruin you again."

your second orgasm is already quickly approaching, your brain humming the more he talks. he's not even talking to get a response to you, he's more-so speaking his threats and intentions into the universe, willing anyone to dare test them. and you'll be damned if you didn't stand confidently next to him and watch as he burns down the world for you.

♡ for part of my 1k follower celebration ♡ masterlist

[synthetickitsune]

may i please request florist!san who secretly likes a regular at his flower shop, then he learns that she finally recently broke up with her ex so he does all kinds of things to cheer her up like slipping in cute notes or chocolates in the flowers she buys and to also maybe shoot his shot 🥹💕

thank youuu and no need to rush! please do take all the time you need 🫶

San (ATZ) | Flower Shop AU + hidden notes fluff | 0.9k | gn!reader

The change wasn’t immediately recognizable for what it truly was. 

You might’ve missed a few weeks, which was concerning, but San understood that life happens and sometimes there’s just not enough time, money, or even energy to come to the flower shop, to keep the house looking pretty. 

And of course he spent the better part of those weeks worried if you’ll ever show up again.

Some little part of him hoped that you won’t - the unselfish one, the one that only cared about your happiness as he tends to care about all strangers that come to his shop. If you never come again, then perhaps your manchild of a boyfriend has finally grown into a full fledged man and started buying you flowers like you deserve instead of leaving you to do it yourself.

It was just one of the few pieces of information he got from the limited amount of small conversations you had. Your boyfriend would give you a couple bucks and tell you to go buy yourself some red roses. An exact amount that would in no universe be covered by the money he gave you. Truly, San wonders why you bothered with that guy. 

You deserve better. You deserve someone like him - but that’s only what the selfish part of his heart keeps telling him.

Things are different now, though. Something changed. You’re back to getting flowers, but they’re not roses anymore, and the bouquets are smaller. They also suit you more. You seem genuinely happy getting them.

San feels torn about it, although he’s mostly curious.

Until one day he sees your phone light up just as you’re about to pay, a name briefly flashing on the screen. You decline the call with lips pressed into a thin line. It’s not the time to be nosy, it’s not his place to ask-

“Is everything alright?” he asks carefully, then upon meeting your eyes he panics, “It’s just you seemed upset and you’ve been missing before…”

He’s just making it worse, he knows, but he hopes you can just take it as him being concerned about his business and not creepy. You study his face for a moment before sighing.

“We broke up,” you say simply, “And he keeps calling so that’s a little annoying.”

“Oh,” is all he can say.

And oh is all he can think for the rest of the day. Week, actually. And then he gets it together.

‘Together’ in a way that is perhaps concerning in its own way.

It might be too much - it is too much and wholly inappropriate. But San feels like a madman on a mission, hyping himself before the final stretch as he looks at the handful of notes and another small pile of envelopes.

The notes should be fine - they’re just generic words of encouragement, some may be a little too sweet for strangers, but not too much. The envelopes, well, they hold his heart. He must be in his right mind still if he thought to start with the notes and see how you accept them.

…And that doesn’t apply anymore weeks later when he’s stealthily slipping the first envelope into the bouquet before wrapping it for you. His heart is about to burst and you’re looking at him with concern. His hands are shaking, but at least you only noticed now. 

“Are you alright?” you ask, brows furrowed.

“Yeah, of course,” he smiles. It’s easy to make it genuine. 

“I…” you hesitate and he leans closer, nodding at you to continue, “I know I never said anything, but I wanted to thank you for the notes. I mean, you probably noticed I started coming in more. They just really helped me get through the hard times.”

He did notice. He also noticed you slowly opening up, lingering, gracing him with short conversation each time.

“I’m glad,” he says and he means it. Even if nothing comes out of this, making you happy is enough.

“So I was wondering, would you like to go on a date with me?” you bite your lip, “If you’re okay with going slow-”

“Yes,” he interrupts before you can change your mind. He already saw you spiral into overthinking many times, he’s not gonna do it today. “Absolutely. Just, uh, could you give that back to me?”

He points to the wrapped flowers in your hands. You look at him with a suspicion. “Why?”

“I don’t want to embarrass myself and make you change your mind, please?” he begs. Suddenly he can’t remember what’s written in the short letter. He only knows it’s sappy and pathetic.

“Is your number there?” you chuckle.

“Among other things,” he admits. For once he doesn’t like the way your smile grows bigger.

“Then if I like the other things I will text you,” you seem so satisfied with yourself, San is in love - and shambles, “If not, I’ll come here again and pretend I didn’t see anything. You can ask me on the date again if the note doesn’t work.”

That’s not the issue, the note isn’t asking you out, he wants to say, but you’re already turned away from him and walking out. He can’t speak, his tongue feels too heavy and his mind is blank. Slowly, he feels a smile stretching his lips against his will.

Maybe you like losers, he hopes.

[suzukiblu]

Day seventeen of “Kon meets pink kryptonite and decides to fuck Tim and his boyfriend about it” behind the cut. (( chrono || non-chrono ))

“Fuck yeah,” Kon says with a grin as he accepts the source of all delicious chocolatey-sugary caramel smells in the room. “Thanks, man.” 

“My bad for not paying enough attention to your specs, just picked myself a whole bouquet of whoopsy-daisies there,” Bernard says, and Tim laughs again, and Kon buries a snigger of his own in the hot chocolate and narrowly avoids getting caramel on his nose. He still feels a little–disconnected, maybe, like his TTK’s maybe a little off-center or something. Like his equilibrium or his sense of balance or whatever isn’t exactly fitting right, maybe. 

Bernard is still just fucking funny, though. 

Kon takes a swallow of the hot chocolate, since again he does not need to worry about burning his tastebuds off or even a light scalding, and–oh Jesus, the caramel is actually in the hot chocolate, isn’t it. Jesus. 

Ma is never gonna forgive him for the amount of recipes he is apparently gonna be asking Tim’s boyfriend for, yeah. 

“Actually maybe I am the marrying kind,” he mutters under his breath, then takes a long sip of hot chocolate. Jesus. Just–Jeeeeesus. “What the fuck does Gotham put in the hot chocolate?” 

“Well, this time I did cocoa powder, milk, powdered sugar, and caramel sauce,” Bernard says. Kon stops mid-sip just to stare blankly at him. “But like, Batburger for example has a recipe that’s a bit more questionable and has occasionally been compromised by Condiment King, so that’s a whole other thing.” 

“Tim,” Kon says, turning his head just enough to eye Tim instead, because he really just needs a minute here. Like, just for his stupid weird brain’s sake, if nothing else. “Where the fuck did you find this dude and what the fuck did you do to earn him? Like, karmically-speaking or whatever. I just need to know what’s better than literally fucking dying to save the world, because I am not pulling chicks who make hot chocolate from fucking scratch. I didn’t know you fucking could make hot chocolate from scratch.” 

“I mean, it’s just better that way, y’know?” Bernard says with a shrug. “Though in retrospect I could’ve just made hot caramel milk, I dunno if that’d be your thing though.” 

Kon is possibly eyeing Tim accusingly now. Tim grins slyly at him in return and picks up his latte to blow gently on it. Bernard literally drew a heart in the foam, because Tim’s a terrible person who stole all the good karma in the world, apparently. Though seriously, Kon doesn’t even know how the dude made a latte, Tim doesn’t even have an espresso machine or whatever. Like, the limited counter space thing was not an exaggeration in any way, shape, or form. 

Tim is literally terrible, yeah, Kon decides. Absolute worst best friend a guy could have. 

Like, aside from the part where he’s saved his life a few thousand times and also just fucked him so good that he low-key had a nervous breakdown about it, anyway. The dick really is just that good, apparently. 

Kon might actually sulk a little when Clark locks up the pink K. Like hello, no one else is using it for anything; why can’t he just keep it? 

“So like do you have a sister? Maybe a super-close cousin or something?” he asks Bernard, giving him a speculative look. 

“Only child, and all my cousins are like fifteen years older than us and either in jail or married with kids,” Bernard replies with a laugh. 

“So what I’m hearing is conjugal visits and MILFs,” Kon says reasonably, flashing him a sharp grin before taking another sip of really fucking good hot chocolate, and Bernard laughs again. “More importantly, do any of them come in ‘cute blonde who knows how to cook’ too?” 

“I’ll tell you when you’re straight again and can properly appreciate them,” Bernard says, still snickering. “No offense to the Dowd family line or anything, just none of us are Starfire-level here. Eh, well, maybe Cousin Nina is bridging the gap a little, but that’s about it.” 

“Fair,” Kon allows, then takes another drink. He feels like there's something he should be thinking of, but he can’t quite–

“‘Nina’?” Tim repeats, tilting his head slowly to one side. “Uh . . . maternal or paternal cousin, Bernard?” 

“Paternal,” Bernard says. “Why?” 

“Bernard,” Tim says. “Did we get your cousin arrested?”

[steddieas-shegoes]

not while i’m on my knees

for @corrodedcoffinfest popup event prompt ‘lust’

rated e | 666 words | cw: sexual content, semi-public sex | tags: established relationship, famous corroded coffin, love confessions, blow job, hand job, interrupted sex

😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈

Eddie bites back a moan as Steve’s tongue does something magical around his dick. They’re in the bathroom of the dressing room for the opening show of Corroded Coffin’s tour and the guys aren’t even 15 feet away. They’ll hear any noise louder than a whisper.

Eddie’s never quiet when Steve’s mouth is on him. Or when his cock is inside him. Or when his hands are-

“Jesus!” Eddie exclaims as Steve manages to take him all the way, the head of his cock hitting the back of his throat. “Shit, Stevie.”

Steve pulls off and holds a finger to his lips. A reminder, but one that won’t be enough if Steve keeps pushing him to his limits.

He knows how hot Eddie thinks it is when the guys are nearby, could hear anything.

They could hear him begging Steve for more. They could hear Steve whimpering into his own hand. They could hear the wet sounds of spit making the glide of hands easier.

Steve continues even though Eddie doesn’t reassure him that he can be quiet. Steve knows he can’t. He’s just teasing him.

“Couldn’t wait to get your mouth on me, huh?” He gasps out as Steve sucks on the tip and takes him back down his throat.

He looks up at Eddie and raises a brow. He’s such a bitch. Eddie loves him with his entire heart.

“It’s okay, baby. I know you��re a desperate slut,” Eddie leans his head back against the wall. “‘S why I love you.”

Steve pulls off of him and glares. “This is not gonna be the first time you say that to me.”

“Hm?” Eddie looks back down at Steve’s bright red cheeks and watery eyes. “Say what?”

Steve stands up and pushes Eddie’s entire body further into the wall. He’s grinning, that feral look that he gets when he’s hungry for Eddie.

“If you love me, then you say it when I’m not on my knees. You look me in my eyes and hold me and show me that you do.”

Oh shit. Okay.

“I do love you,” he says again, looking in Steve’s eyes and wrapping his arms around him. “I was gonna say it normal, I swear.”

“Did my mouth feel too good? Got you acting dumb?” Steve teases, but there’s fondness heavy in his voice. It settles deep in Eddie’s chest, curls around his heart and leaves him warm and content.

He nods.

He loves when Steve bites. He loves being seen and known in a way that no one else quite understands. He’d never make it through this tour without Steve there to remind him he’s just a guy in love with his boyfriend and no amount of fame will ever change that.

“Will you fuck me?” Eddie asks, whines. They don’t have time; Eddie’s supposed to be on stage in less than ten minutes. He’s not even prepped. He doesn’t even think they have lube in here.

Steve smirks. “You want it to hurt, baby?”

Eddie doesn’t not want it to hurt. He’s willing to sacrifice if it means having Steve inside him before he performs.

Someone bangs on the door.

“If I have to listen to Steve fuck you, you owe me $100,” Frankie yells through the door.

“$50 for me!” Gareth yells.

“Why less?” Frankie asks.

“Because Steve sounds hot when he comes.”

Steve laughs. “You won’t hear me fuck him!” He yells through the door.

Eddie groans. “You couldn’t let me have this?” He lets his head fall back against the wall again.

The moment is gone even though he’s still hard as a rock and could probably come the moment Steve touches him.

Steve’s hard too, he sees when he looks back down at his own leaking cock. They could get off together.

“Please,” Eddie pouts.

Steve smiles, less mean now, more endeared. His hand wraps around both of them.

“Say it again,” Steve whispers, just for them.

“I love you,” Eddie says just for him.

[kooqitas]

— beer & brother's friend ... ★

#pairing: seungcheol X reader. #synopsis: your brother goes out to buy fast food, leaving you and seungcheol alone at home. #tags: pwp, vaginal sex, fingering, kitchen sex, spit, creampie. #notes: my first story with seventeen i hope you like it guys!!! #wc: 1,3k

is almost 8pm when you listen your brother laughs so loud, so you go to the kitchen, noticing the all beers bottle that was in the table.

"oh, really guys, did you even call me?"

the first thing that you noticed was how handsome seungcheol looked.

you brother, vernon, and seungcheol was friends a few years, since you and your brother living together, sometimes seungcheol go to the apartament and drink some beers ou watches some movies with vernon.

and yes, sure, cheol always being handsome, and you know that a few months ago he started the gym, you always see his posts on instagram, but damn, his so fucking hot personally.

"so, the princess came to join the commoners" seungcheol played with you.

"i want, but no one invited me..." you pretend a sad face.

"bla bla bla" vernon said. "it even feels like i need to call you for drink"

maybe now, seeing that who is in your home, you probably would dress better, like, the small shorts and thin shirt made you so... basic.

whatever, you take a beer and sit on table with the two guys.

sitting next to cheol, you smell his perfume, damn, he's unbearably hot! it's not like you didn't already know this, but in the last few months he was pushing the limits, having the guy so close to you was making you easily horny.

you drank A LOT a little, the alcohol making you burn every time seungcheol's knee touched yours. the three of you would talk about anything, your brother being visibly the only sober one there.

"i think that i wont see you since you started dating, how's going?" seungcheol questioned, taking a beer in his lips.

"she broke up, his boyfriend cheated her... with her friend" vernon laughed, your brother really gave you all emotional support, but now his just laughs a lot.

"shut up!"

"oh, is real?" cheol questioned. "i'm so sorry for that!"

"she don't care" your brother said again. "she cheated him back... with his brother."

"WITH WHOM? oh god!"

"guys... i'm still on this table..." you said.

"and i'm not!" vernon joked. "i'm taking the fries, give me a second"

so your brother go to cooktop, leaving you and seungcheol alone.

seungcheol had a look that you couldn't identify, but it gave you goosebumps, the truth is that you always had a crush on your brother's friend, but for obvious reasons you had never tried anything, it didn't even seem like something reciprocated.

but seungcheol was so fucking hot, you definitely wanted to kiss him.

"oh... his brother?" he asked, a kinda unbeliever.

"is not a big deal, ok? his fucked with my friend, i just... go deeper... isn't my fault, his brother fucked me too, like, i'm not haved sex alone..."

"yeah, sure, i understand..." his said.

"oh, really?"

he approached, whispering in you ear.

"sure, like, if i was his brother, i wanted to fuck with you too... actually, wouldn't even wait for him to cheat you for that."

cheol laughs, squeezing your thigh in a less than affectionate way, his eyes are dark.

fuck, he was hitting on you?

"guys, the fries burned..." vernon laughed.

"oh, i'm really hungry now..." you said, looking to cheol. 

yes, maybe the food that you want its other...

"i can go to the mc if you want!" cheol sayed to you and vernon.

"oh, definitely NO, you are drunk. i'll go, just let me change de clothes."

your brother went to the room, and seungcheol's dark gaze stayed on you, along with the unchaste caress on your thigh, which rose even further towards the hem of the tiny shorts you were wearing.

vernon came back, saying he would return in 20 minutes and asking you not to break anything in the house.

when your brother left, the amount of dirty thoughts that passed through your mind scared you, you knew you found seungcheol attractive, but wanting to take off your clothes and lie on the table asking him to fuck you wasn't the best thing to think about right now.

you got up, going to get another beer from the fridge, but you were scared by the large body that pressed you against it.

"c-cheol, wh-?"

"tell me that your pretty whore face was a request to me, please!"

"my-my?"

"i’ve been wanting to fuck you for so long... and when i found the courage to admit it, you started dating." he laughed with a laugh that bordered on despair.

what do you mean he wanted to fuck you?

“vernon could come home in any min-”

"i promise to be quick, i know you're wet, hm?" he said kissing your neck, pressing his hips into your waist, making you feel his cock. "i've been like this since i saw you enter that damn kitchen, i planned to wait for your brother to sleep so i could come to your room but..." he kissed your jaw, and you were already overcome by lust. "let me have you now!"

you didn't respond, not verbally, you just took his hand down your shorts, showing the damage your own thoughts had done to you.

he was agile in placing two fingers inside your wet hole, making you moan at the sensation.

"are you already open for me, kitty? if you're a good girl now, when your brother sleeps, i promise to come into your room and make you cum in my mouth... but now let me fuck you with my dick, hm? "

"f-"

you don’t even know how he was so fast, but in the next second you felt his cock inside you, spreading you open as he stuck his tongue in your mouth.

his tongue tasted like beer, and you moaned when it came into contact with yours at the same time as every inch of him entered you further.

"tight pussy, but accepting me so well..." he said before thrusting once, the shock of his balls hitting you.

“fuck” you moaned, closing your eyes, planting your nails on his arm. the mix of lust and burning.

"no, princess, look that... you're taking me so well..." he forces you to look down, increasing the speed of his thrust as he lifts your two legs, intertwining them with his thighs.

you are literally open to seungcheol, he pushes you against the fridge while he fucks you, seeming to take away all the time he wanted you, you feel his vision get blurred with so much information.

"i've wanted to fuck you for so long, you finally broke with your pathetic boyfriend."

he pushes you further against the fridge, lowering the strap of your shirt and exposing one of your nipples, seungcheol spits on one of them before starting to stimulate it with his fingers, using the spit to lub.

"you're always going to give me that cunt now, right? so delicious..."

he kisses you, and then begins to stimulate your clit, sloppy circles taking you to heaven and hell at the same time.

"i'll-"

"please smear my dick all over with your cream, love!"

the touch on your clit becoming firmer as he stuck his tongue back into your mouth, and you came..

the laugh he gave when he felt your cum was one of the most exciting things you had ever heard in your life.

"hold on a little, princess." he said kissing his neck and he didn't stop thrusting into you.

and then he came. filling you completely with his cum.

seungcheol continues thrusting for a few seconds, his cum making his dick slide even better.

"we n-need to stop, my brother..."

"oh right." he releases you. "can we talk about this later?" he questions when he sees you heading towards the bathroom, you nod.

and it takes less than two minutes for vernon to get into the house.

shit, you guys forgot to clean the floor.

⸝⸝⸝

🍰 support me on ko-fi

[soft-for-them]

First Plate - Senshi x GN! Plus size reader

Summary: You fancy Senshi (and fantasize about him) and he fancies you too... it might take a while for you both to confess.

Comments and reblogs are much appreciated and help more people read my works, hope you like!

A/N: I'm semi back and still not proof reading properly, so spelling mistakes are inevitable. This is gender neutral and with a plus size/chubby/mid size/fat/ect reader in mind but really anyone can read.

---

His body is strong; not the unhealthy skinny strong that you see come and go, not the type muscles that guys who’s never actually traversed a dungeon before have but the kind of muscle that’s developed over time in a dungeon along with a good balanced meal too of course.

His bulky arms aren’t just for show and his abs, solid and there, are covered by a thick layer of fat and a healthy flocking of dark body hair.

What more could a person want?

He’s shorter than you but it does not bother you in the slightest for if he were to wrap his strong arms around your middle then his face would bury itself in the softness of your plush tall-man body, oh and how you long for that, it’s the thing of dreams, your Senshi filled dreams that make you feel too warm for comfort.

You often wonder what his kisses would feel like on your body, you fantasise about the light feathering of his facial hair as he pecks at your exposed skin, his fingers gracing every scar and stretch mark on your soft body, his own desires being centred around you and only you.

Would he tell you how beautiful you are or would he just focus entirely of planting his quick kisses all over until you melted into a goo on the floor?

You’ve always daydreamed about him being gentle and considerate, he is when he speaks to you and he is to everyone else in the group, you’re mind just wonders too much about a more romantic scenario.

Does he even find you attractive?

You shake your head cutting that though off before it becomes rotten. You trying to rid your frazzled mind of the ever growing suggestive thoughts and feelings, your face hotter that the small campfire that currently cooks your team's late dinner.

You try to pry your eyes away from Senshi’s strong hair covered arms, said man currently frying some wild veggies that you found earlier on whilst of the rest of group hunted a monster or two, you really do try for but your eyes instead catch on to curve of his wide nose and the shine of his full moustache.

You’re like goo in seconds.

With an audible groan you flop backwards, a hand covering your eyes, the flowy fabric of your robes crumpling in odd shapes as you wipe away any sweat with your other hand.

You feel a shadow loom over you, a small shadow but one that blinds your limited vision non the less.

“What are you groaning about?” the voice of Chilchuck Tims in full father mode questions as you peak through slightly parted fingers at the more mature adventurer.

You’ve been with Laios’ party on and off since before Falin got eaten by the red dragon, the little adventures you had with them interspersed with you many little jobs that paid for your rent.

Before you joined Laios and co you did odd jobs collecting gold from the dungeon walls or helping lug dead bodies back up to the surface. Once you joined the party as a part time member, being good at finding things and knowing a small amount of magic, you had cut back on the more unsavoury jobs but still mulling around the top floors of the dungeon.

Chilchuck had been the man who made you quit your old jobs, back then you had been overworked and underpaid so badly that you didn’t even have a full room of your own (you shared with another adventurer for a while) nor a full bag filled with your possessions, so the half-foot rather fathers you like he does with a lot of the other party members.

(Itzusumi is obviously the closest to how his daughters used to been when they where little, though you moan and groan and mess around all the same despite being a fully grown adult.)

“I feel warm.” It’s true, you do feel warm, though not form sitting anywhere near the fire.

“Then move.” he says back nudging your arm with his boot, a hand on his hip and the other hand on his head as he peers down at you, “Stop moping around, foods nearly ready!”

You take your hand covering your eyes and swat it at his boot more teenage like moaning coming from you as you jokily call him ‘dad’.

Before you even know it Itzusumi comes over and starts swatting at Chilchuck’s boot too much like a cat would do, his two work children finding entertainment in tormenting the half-foot.

---

Senshi watches on as you and Itzusumi bug Chilchuck your laughter filling the air.

Your laughter that sounds like a siren song to his ears, your laughter that heals his soul… fuck, he’s down bad.

Truth be told Senshi has been in the dungeon a long time, long enough to recognise the odd ones out that prefer to linger around the dungeon rather than around the tall-men above ground.

He has heard about your for a long time; the tall-man who spends most of their time on the wooden bridges and inside the trees, hanging around graves and merchant stands around the upper floors. You were always a treasure collector or a goon to the revivers, an odd little goose among the ducklings always wondering off path to find old coins deep in the dirt and giving advice to new adventurers who didn’t know any better.

The orcs had told him about a round robed person who wondered around talking to everyone and anyone like danger wasn’t a thing and he never thought much of it until he actually met you.

When he first laid eyes on you he knew it was fate, it did not matter that you were trying to coax Marcille to eat his cooked walking mushroom dish, he knew it right then and there.

It must have been the way the low warm dungeon light caressed your face or how you greeted everyone that passed, he’s embarrassed to say that his eyes lingered but they did, they’ve been lingering for far too long now.

And now hear he is trying to get closer to you without making your uncomfortable (or without setting Chilchuck or Itzusumi on him for the two of them really seem to care about you a lot).

He likes you too much to flat out say how he feels, to say that you make him blush like he was young again, make him daydream like he has all the time in the world to do so. Your joy and wonder is intoxicating and you’re rather pretty to look at too.

It makes his face go red as he dishes up the last of the food from his wok.

---

You’re still bugging Chilchuck when the first plate is passed over to from Marcille, slight confusion gracing your face as you look at her.

“Where’s your plate Marcille?” you ask as Itzusumi turns her childish gaze onto you, your plate filled with all sorts of meat and veggies catching her cat eyes.

You playfully push her away as she paws at you, turning her around with one hand so she facing Senshi (who from even from far away is clearly red in the face).

He steadily plates up more food but you soon realise that you have the first plate.

“Senshi told me it’s your plate.” Marcille says, a knowing look on her face.

“Oh!” heat blooms on your face like spring flowers.

Looking back at Senshi you see him looking away from you before quickly being distracted by ravenous Laios and Itzusumi.

He gave you the first plate… Oh, you might melt right then and there.

[lily221118]

•⭐• Sevika x Younger, mean, femme girlfriend.

part 2 -> part 1

So the next night, you’re walking into the pub, looking very different from what all these guys are used to seeing you in. Everyone around here sees you in the bland clothes you bartend in so seeing you dolled up is like a treat for the whole place. You’ve put on something sexier than usual. Nothing too scandalous, but you’d at least taken this opportunity to show off. Your hair is flowing and your makeup is done and you’re feeling fantastic, you’re feeling especially fantastic when you see sevika catch sight of you and let her eyes trail over your whole body, her eyes blown wide as if you can’t see her. When you reach her in a booth (Not at the bar, you notice), you slide in opposite her and grin. “Hey.”

Her eyes drop once more to catch any piece of skin she can behind the table, “Who’re you trying to impress?”

You roll your eyes at her and she comments on it before you can respond with something snarky, “Someday you’ll go blind, the way you’re always rolling your eyes.” 

This gets your eyes rolling again, “Don’t give me any reason to roll my eyes and I’ll be fine.”

She laughs at this with a dismissive shake of her head, you lean back against the booth seat, “Get me a drink, would you?”

She raises an eyebrow, the laugh lingering on her lips, “Bossy tonight.”, she states like it's obvious. Which it is.”I’m always bossy. Go.” I nod in the direction of the bar. She begins to stand up and looks back down at you. “What do girls like you even drink?”

“What do you mean girls like me?”

She gestures towards the length of your body, obviously referring to the way you present yourself, “You know, like, pretty… girly.” You give her a smirk and bring your hand to your hair to brush through it, “You think I’m pretty?” When she only shakes her head with another laugh rather than answering, you move on. “Just get me whatever you think suits me.”

She comes back 5 minutes later with her signature glass of whiskey and a purple drink with salt around the rim, setting it in front of you with a grunt. Working in this pub, you know this drink, it's probably the closest available thing to a cocktail with the limited resources of the undercity. 

“Aw, did you get me this because it's pretty and I'm pretty.”

“No. It’s got salt on it. You said to get something that suited you.”

The look on your face is one of fake offense and it makes her laugh again as she takes a sip from her own glass. You do the same and lick some salt off the edge before setting it back down. That catches her attention. 

“What made you ask me out for a drink?” You ask her straight up.

“I suppose you’ve become more tolerable over time, and-”

“You haven’t.” You interrupt her and it makes her smile in amusement, “You and that smart mouth. One day you’ll say the wrong thing to the wrong person. You gotta be careful with an attitude like that down here.”

You lean over the table, tilting your head and resting it on your hands, forcing an air of innocence, “Oh but you’d protect me, wouldn’t you?” You bat your eyelashes to really seal the deal.

“As if you’d let me.”

The night goes on, the drinks go down with ease, and the conversation flows. Sevika’s been invited to a round of cards and you tell her you don’t mind losing her attention for a while. Though, that is actually an absolute lie. So you’re sitting next to her at the table, surrounded by a huddle of men. Sevika’s got a hand of cards, who knows if they're good or bad and she’s playing with such precision and ease that you can’t help but feel impressed.

“You wanna join the next round?” She asks you casually after her turn. You shake your head in response, “I’m okay just watching.”

That’s when one of the men pipes up, some buff guy with copious amounts of facial hair, probably the result of regular shimmer use. Or just really unstable hormones. “Nah, she knows her place, sitting there and looking pretty like some lap dog.” 

A few of the other guys laugh along, one slapping him on the back in agreement. Your eyebrows furrow in defense and you begin to speak but Sevika gets out of her seat abruptly and it stops you in your tracks. You look up at her in confusion and you hear the gears in her arm warming up.

“You wanna repeat that?” She spits out in a deep voice. The guys instinctually withdraw, obviously taken aback. You grab her wrist, “Sevika, sit down”, and attempt to pull her back into her seat. She looks down at you, annoyed, and splutters, “but- th-” And motions towards the guys.

 “Sit down.” You repeat, authority in your voice. And she actually does. She slumps back into her seat with a huff and the same gnarly guy chuckles. “What, you got this little lass given you orders now, eh boss?” 

Sevika almost jolts out of her seat again but you shoot her a stern look before returning your attention to this goon.

“You wanna start? I pour your drinks every night and unless you wanna know what my spit tastes like, you should shut that busted mouth.”

He stares at you, completely unsure of what to say and in the corner of your eye, you see a smirk on Sevika’s face. The guy grumbles but backs off, along with his friends who continue to scowl but don’t say anything else. They all look back to their cards and you feel Sevika rustle beside you and then a breath on your ear, “Anyone ever told you how hot you are when you’re mean?” 

The sensation of her breath on your skin along with her words sends a shooting thrill straight to your stomach and you have to cross your legs to compose yourself before your words are able to come out clear. “A couple times.” You suck on your lip as the edges of your closed mouth flick up and she licks her lips as she adjusts her position to refocus on the game, obviously pleased with your reaction. 

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer park Steve AU part 24

part 1 | part 23 | ao3

cw: alcohol, throwing up, brief reference to canonical character death

"Oh, my god!" Robin barks, nearly throwing herself off-balance again with the force of her laugh. "This is too good, man. You truly cannot escape your babysitting duties."

"Can I help you?" Max seethes.

Help him? Help him? "What the fuck are you doing here?"

"What does it look like I'm doing?" She gestures to the guy she's holding onto, some fluffy-haired kid with a cut-off vest covered in safety pins that Steve sort of vaguely recognizes as one of Eddie's friends. Oh, shit. Is Eddie here finally? Has he seen him?

"Wait, where's Lucas?" Steve asks.

"Who cares?" she bites back.

The guy gives a nervous chuckle and loosens his grip on her waist. "Uh-h. Did you say babysitter?"

"He's not actually, Jesus. I'm fourteen; I don't need a babysitter. And he was just leaving, anyway, right?"

Her glare feels like a slap. Girl's got daggers in her eyes, holy shit. It's like she's hoping some of El's powers magically transferred to her; like she's picturing him flying ten feet into the air and landing with a splat on the far side of the concrete, and he doesn't need this. He did not come out tonight to be bullied by a teenager. "Okay, that's it, I'm taking—"

"—me to the punch bowl!" Robin interrupts, putting her hands on Steve's chest to stop him from grabbing Max and hauling her back to the car.

"Robin, what—?"

"Yep!" She shoves him hard, pushing him to the edge of the dance floor. "Silly me, just dying of thirst, ha ha. Okay, cool, see you both later!"

—

"What the hell was that?" Steve demands when they're safely on the far side of the pavilion.

"An intervention."

Oh, my god. May he never hear the word 'intervention' again in his life.

"Un-ruffle your Mother Hen feathers for two seconds and think, would you? One: it would look really, really, seriously weird for you to be seen dragging a dead jock's kid sister kicking and screaming to your car."

A dead jock’s kid sister. Jesus, tipsy Robin has no tact.

"Two: you said we were going to go out and have fun and get, and I quote, 'very drunk.' Take your babysitter hat off for one night. She's a high schooler, and this is a high school party."

"Yeah, I know," he sulks. Doesn't need the reminder that he's technically past the age limit.

"Okay, so then let her have fun! It's not like you weren't out drinking and smoking by her age."

'I'm always so right about everything. I'm, like, cosmically correct.' Goddammit. Steve needs another drink. "I just don't want her to do anything dumb and get hurt."

"She won't. We can just, like, keep an eye on her from a distance, right? Let her come to us if she needs anything."

"So we should just act like your parents?" Steve snorts.

"My parents are amazing, thank you!"

"Your mom offered me mushroom tea once."

"Like I said: amazing."

Steve huffs a laugh, flips his hair out of his eyes and snags a handful of tortilla chips. "Okay," he says around a crunchy bite, "so what's the third thing?"

"Third thing?" Robin asks. She’s not even looking at him anymore, her eyes eager and distracted as she scans the crowd.

"You're biting your lip weird, there's clearly a third thing."

She turns to him, and the smile springs free from its containment, spreading all over her flushed, ecstatic face. "Vickie just showed up."

—

Steve’s hammered.

Whoops.

Didn’t mean to do it; feels a little bad about it as he tips his head up to the sky and all the stars go raining in bright streaks across his vision. Reminds him of the ceiling at Starcourt, nauseous and spinning under a swirl of bright fluorescence. He hopes Rob’s flirting is going well.

He meant to get politely drunk.

A socially appropriate amount.

But then Robin ran off to flirt with Vickie, and Steve was doing his best to just lay low, steer clear of Max and maybe find a way to casually run into Eddie if he could find him, when he spotted the girl he went on that disaster of a date with instead and realized his options were either: stay there by the beer coolers while she came over with her new date and subjected him to the most painful small talk of his life, or retreat to the dark edges of the party with as much booze as he could carry, so.

He's slumped on top of a picnic bench downwind of the bonfire, bad ear ringing, belly full to bursting, trying to remember when one beer became… more than one beer.

Five?

Six, maybe?

Fuck.

“‘M gonna puke,” he confesses to the splintered wood beneath his feet; to the pine bough overhead, the smoky fire at his back.

“Wow,” someone says, an amused lilt to their tone, and Steve knows that voice, he—

Oh, no.

Ohhhh, no.

Now? Really?

Steve whips his head around, opens his mouth to ask ‘Eddie?’ and barfs all over his shoes.

—

part 25

tag list part 1 below the cut, let me know if you want me to add you tomorrow (21+ only, please confirm your age if you're asking to be tagged)

@a-little-unsteddie @ahsokatanoss @aliea82 @alyelf @anne-bennett-cosplayer @aol19 @awolfstudio @bambibiest @bananahoneycomb @bookbinderbitch @bronwenmarie @cheonsazu @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @courtjestermunson @cuips-not-cute @dauntlessdiva @dawners @dontwasteyourchances @eddie-munsons-missing-nipple @eriquin @estrellami-1 @fandomfix8 @gregre369 @griefabyss69 @grtwdsmwhr @hallucinatedjosten @hellion-child @hiimlevi @honoragreyskull @hotluncheddie @jackiemonroe5512 @kas-eddie-munson @kingelyx @lifeisacrisis @littlebluejane @marvel-ous-m @melonmochi @messrs-weasley @milklechee @mrsjellymunson @mugloversonly @munsonslure @nburkhardt @nerdyglassescheeseychick @notsopersonalcharlie @novelnovella @nuggies4life @phoenixtheone @questionablequeeries @runninriot

[impyssadobsessions]

I don't have much time but I wanted to share this with you while I can! I can't draw but I can write and this is the only way I can share this imagery with you!

The world is passing by in a flurry of colors.

Which usually isn’t that unusual for Clark…usually though it’s because his flying of his own accord. Now…now it was because he was hurdling who knows how fast in piece of metal that was more of a mobile armory then an actual RV then it supposedly was.

There were no support handles to hold on to for just a bit of comfort, no, that was replaced by a handle that would pull down and release a fog horn sound.

So all he could do was pull his knees up to steady himself against the front console, using his size to squeeze himself into a cannonball form in hopes he didn’t get dislodged on a particular rough bump.

Then again if he did, maybe he could get propelled forward and through the front and take the engine out on his way.

Wishful thinking…at least he was doing better then Bruce.

Who was currently sprawled out on the floor of the RV looking like a disheveled cat hanging on to whatever and however he could. Maybe it would look more natural in his Batman outfit but at the moment both if them were in civilian wear and seeing the ‘Prince of Gotham’ doing an impression of a deranged starfish just added on more to today’s bizarreness.

Jack Fenton was giving him a large smile as he drove through another wall, “Don’t you guys worry! I’ll get us to our boys! No speed limit or any barrier can stop a Fenton!”

Clark could only let out a groan of despair as a response...

AMG THIS IS LOVELY LMAO!!! Bruce just imitating one of his sons to keep himself from being thrashed around.. or worse... throw up. ahhhh imagine they both slump out of the rv when they arrive, shaking and so grateful to touch the ground. Bruce is definitely calling for a private jet after this and Clark might agree to ride with him just to have a slower ride.

Danny gives them pity pats when he learns... Jon and Damian like how bad could it be. Damian thinking his father been in a space ship and Jon like we fly that fast every- Only for them to be overheard by Jack by their curiosity, so they all end up being drove back by him. Which bruce and clark like OH GOD please- which becomes a little relief when it turns out Jack drives safer with children.... still deranged but one they can handle. Damian still doesn't see what got their fathers so twisted up. Danny knows though and then asks dad how long it took them. "Regrettably 3 hours son. I was hoping it would be two." Damian frowned and done the math then asking if there was a flying feature in the... rv? "AHA! Nope, but I've been trying to convince Mads to let me install one. She said it would cost too much in gas though, and take up room for the ghost scanner." Damian does the math.. then realizes why his father and clark are shaking in the rv.. even by the tiniest of amounts. "That's my dad! :D" Danny grinning. "He's cool." Jon says innocently enough, not realizing the horror of that statement until it takes them over five hours to get home. Jack decided to play it safe and follow SOME speed limits and road signs. Jack is never allowed to drive again next time they hang out. Bruce or Clark always gets the keys =w= or has limo. ahh sorry got inspired. I LOVE this snippet ;w; !!!! <3 Thank you for writing this. <3<3<3

Link to prompt

[itstheghostofmypast]

Focus

Idol Wooyoung x (F)Reader

Summary: It amazed him how he ended up with a brat, one that had the attention span of a toddler but the love as warm as the sun.

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 1.9K

Est. Read Time: 15 min

Warnings: None

Rating: SFW

Networks: @cromernet @k-labels

Banner: @cafekitsune

A/N: Basically inspired by @edenesth being my platonic Woo <3- the urge to procrastinate was real strong last night.

“Put it away.”

Her ears picked up the irritated voice, turning her head she glanced at the man sitting on her bed, glasses on top of his head, chin in palm as he scrolled on his phone. Must’ve been talking to himself, turning back around she went back to doing what she was doing before she was rudely interrupted, eying the shoes, maybe she could get the red ones, they’d match the dress he got her recently, oh no, but then she’d limit the things she could wear them with, oh if she gets a black pair then- “HEY!”

“Don’t you have a final exam tomorrow???”

When did he come all the way here? He was standing right next to her, a hand on his hip, the other holding her phone above her head as he looked at the screen, “Seriously? Are we shopping right now?”

“What~” she whined, trying to reach for her phone but he pulled away, frowning at her before shoving the device in his pocket, “Woo, it's retail therapy!”

“No, it’s a distraction.” He huffed before walking over to her bed, “You told me to make sure you study, and I’ll do exactly that,” he flopped down on the comfortable space, sighing at the familiar scent engulfing his senses, calming him down, who knew his girlfriend had the same attention span as his baby brother, no wonder the two got along so well. Sure, on any other day, he would have been thrilled to see that, but not tonight, no, he had to follow the strict boyfriend code, the one where the guy makes sure his baby girl isn’t distracted and focuses on cramming for her final exam.

Craning her neck back, she pouted at him, only to receive an eye-roll causing her to huff, date an idol they said, it’ll be fun they said- if ‘they’ only knew how this idol who was forcing her to study instead of ‘lollygagging’ around, they’d know how dating an idol is NOT fun at all! With a huff she turned back around, wearing her headphones as she began to write once more. Truth be told she was glad he had taken her phone from her; she knew she would get distracted way too easily, especially when she was stressed and considering right now, she felt like the world was about to explode; even though retail therapy would have helped her calm down, it would have also wasted a great amount of time, the time she could have spent reading and making notes.

He glanced at her going back to work, smiling to himself before looking back at the messages in his group chat, the guys had decided to go out tonight, to eat, and he had too- that is until she had texted him last minute, asking him if he could come cover. He had been avoiding her for a week now, not because he didn’t like her, no, but because he knew she’d be easily distracted by him and would choose to spend time with him rather than studying- even though he knew his girl loved those A’s, she was just silly like that, wanting to conquer the world but also getting distracted by a butterfly. So, when he had received the text, “Hey…can you come over and make sure I study?”  He had turned to San and shown him the text, earning a snort from the taller man, who shrugged in response but gave him an assuring pat on the shoulder- good, that means no one would have issues with him suddenly bailing on them.

There was a moment of somewhat irritancy on his drive here, he was somewhat disappointed he was unable to relax with his friends after months of promotion, on the other hand, he was also disappointed in himself for even thinking of choosing downtime over helping out his lover. That irritancy had morphed into guilt when she had opened the door for him, instantly wrapping her arms around him as she hugged him close, thanking him for coming here on such short notice, glad that she could always count on him to be there for her. The guilt turned into a form of penitence when he saw the scattered books, papers, numerous highlighters and pens, along with several mugs (what he assumed was coffee) crammed all over her desk, amid the chaos was her laptop, trying to breathe in the mess. He had sat her down on her chair.

He told her to wait, proceeding to pick up the mugs, running to the kitchen to place them in the sink, running back to sorting the papers and books for her, in order of ‘what do you need next’, stacking the pens and highlighters neatly in a box and removing any other clutter that he could find, before pushing her swivel chair closer to the desk. This act had helped his guilt subside, though when he met her loving gaze, it had completely vanished, especially when she had reached up to press her lips against his cheek, mumbling, “I’m so lucky to have you in my life, Youngie~”

He truly felt like he was fortunate to have her in his life- at least that was what he had felt like two hours ago, with two hours gone she was left with three easy topics, ones she had done a million times, but did that mean that was enough of an excuse for her to get distracted? No. He had come to ensure she covered all topics regardless of their difficulty levels, and like a good, dutiful boyfriend he was going to do- “HEY! ARE YOU SERIOUS!?” He screeched, tossing his phone on the bed as he jumped off it, running to her as she fumbled with the laptop, closing the tab and blabbering out apologies.

“I cannot believe you!” exasperating he slammed his hand on the desk causing her to flinch, as he knelt to look at her, though she only averted her gaze as he huffed, “What’s the excuse this time, huh?”

“I uh…wanted to watch your scenes in the MV.”

“That’s it.” With that he marched out of the room, leaving her confused- oh shit, was he mad at her? She did call him here even though he had plans for the night, great, good-going girl, make sure your boyfriend dumps you tonight, the same boyfriend who took time out of his busy idol life, who chose to sacrifice his recreational time to babysit you because you have some form of attention deficit. Make sure you lose that one man who’s always been there for you-

“Now, if I see you do ANYTHING ELSE, I’ll take away all your devices for a week!” he dictated, entering the room and causing her train of inner turmoil to halt- is that a chair?

Dragging the chair next to hers he sat down and, turning to face her as she moved back a bit, only for him to place his hand on top of her head and gently turn it to the laptop, “I better not see you look away even for a second, you got me?” with that he crossed his arms over his chest and continued to stare at her, like a mama hen watching her chicks- god, this was giving preschool all over again.

“Are you really going to be staring at me the entire time I read?”

“Yes.”

“That’s creepy.”

“No, you wanting to watch me in an MV, rather than turning around to see me on your bed is creepy.”

“You looked cute!”

“GET TO WORK, SLACKER!”

“YES SIR!”

To be honest, it was odd how he was staring at her so intently, but it was also endearing, she felt so loved, so pampered, so spoiled- oh if Hongjoong were to find out about how Wooyoung often got a taste of his own antics, through his loving, adorable girlfriend, he’d probably pay her to do worse. Nonetheless, she had soon gotten used to him burning holes at the side of her head, she hadn’t even realized when he had moved closer, his fingers brushing against her skin causing her to jerk, eying him as she earned a sheepish apology, “Sorry…was trying to keep your hair out of your face.” See, it was little things like these that made her heart swell with joy and admiration, little details that he’d note and little acts of kindness that would spark joys of glee within her.

He was a pervert, God, he was such a pervert. This had all started off to annoy her, but the more he watched her work, the more difficult it became for him, he never knew he was this messed up in the head, he found it hot, he found it extremely hot, to have her so focused on something that was not him, so focused on finishing her work, so focused on making him proud- the thought of this doing it because he asked her to was such a turn on- Wooyoung you need help. 

Almost an hour later of watching her, playing with her pens and rearranging her notes, his phone rang and he sprang in joy, though he cleared his throat when she side-eyed him (of course he was glad someone was calling him, he'd been sitting here bored to death for an hour, only because he loved her endlessly), leaning closer he smacked a wet kiss against her warm, soft cheek, ignoring her when she slightly shoved him away.

"I'll be back in a second, be a good girl and don't get distracted."

A faint "I'm always a good girl", caught his ear as he walked out of the room, picking up the call, starting with an "I hate school" only to receive an earful from Hongjoong for 'distracting his own girlfriend' - the NERVE of this man! How dare he accuse him of such blasphemy! He was a good boy, and an even better boyfriend- so much so that he had spent almost 40 minutes arguing with him. Only realised how long it had taken when he ended the call.

Jogging back to the room he turned the corner and gasped- AGAIN!? What- was she sleeping? With a huff he walked over to her, ready to wake her up, hand pausing right above her shoulder when he realised that everything was neatly packed- oh, she had finished. Her laptop was turned off, her notes were stacked aside, her pens were in the case and all the checkpoints on her neon-bright sticky notes were marked off- his girl really did make him proud.

"Hey...let's get you to bed, yeah?" He felt her stir in her sleep, smiling when she refused to move, only helping him when he picked her up, her arms wrapping around his neck even though she was 'asleep'. What a brat! He looked down only to find her snuggling closer to him, she didn't pull away when he laid her down- only grabbed his shirt and tugged him closer as he chuckled, adjusting himself closer to her, he pulled the covers, feeling her move closer to him, as he placed his chin on top of her head, arms wrapping around her frame, almost asleep until he heard her mumble something against him.

"Hmm? Did you say something?"

There was silence for a moment before he heard a muffled sound, her warm breath tickling his neck as she mumbled,

"Gotta work Gotta make that money, make purse-"

 A cackle broke past his lips as he squeezed her closer, earning a giggle from her, as he began singing along to her mumbling, glad that if he had to end up with someone, it was a lovable, adorable brat like him;

"Got a fur coat, so I make it purr  Give 'em whiplash when they see me earn"

Taglist: @edenesth @yessa-vie @the-kpop-simp @mlysalt @spooo00oky @slaayysis