#so you let your boy go. and you will keep letting him go. even when he comes back to you he will have to keep leaving. because thats what

[yanderedrabbles]

Foreign Yandere x Air Hostess Reader

He's beyond shady. Got connections and friends in all the lowest places. But you're just a little too slow to realise it.

Foreign Yandere who sees you for the first time on his first flight out of the country. He’s a sketchy guy, got a pack of fake passports in a hidden compartment in his bag, but you smile at him like you don’t see the tattoos, the scarred knuckles, the too quick hands.

Oh, you’re pretty. All the cabin crew are, but you’re something new. Exotic almost. Got him wondering exactly how different you are in bed too, got him wondering if you’d put up a fuss if he cornered you in the bathroom. Hell, you might like it. Folk always said foreign girls were down for so much more.

It’s a long-haul flight and your supervisor is bitchy about damn near everything you do. Passengers aren’t much better after twelve hours with their legs cramped up and only shitty plane chow to eat. He can see it wearing on you, can see the way your smile gets tighter after every too sharp complaint. Makes him want to beat their faces into a pulp.

His last straw comes at hour sixteen, when you’re clearly exhausted and one passenger just won’t let up. Practically screaming at you about not getting his specially ordered meal. You’re dealing with it as best you can, but everyone has a limit. He can see the tears starting to brim behind your waterline, can see you struggling to fight them back.

He stands so fast that his seat mate actually flinches. Comes to stand behind you and glares at the troublemaker. The man doesn’t let up, just switches his anger to him.

“You got a problem, huh?”

Foreign Yandere who doesn’t have a lot of English, but he knows a threat when he hears one. He leans down, shoots the man a smile filled with all the menace of a streetfighter.

“What did you say to me?” he asks, in his own language. It isn’t the standard dialect. It’s the regional kind, the type that’s as rough ‘round the edges as its speakers.

The man quails.

 “Sorry,” he mutters. But that’s not good enough.

Foreign Yandere who jerks his head at you, his message clear even across the language barrier.

Apologise to her.

The guy does. Red in the face, resentful about it, spitting his sorry through his teeth like an insult.

You look up at him, the foreigner with the hard eyes, and thank him. In his own language.

Your accent is thick, the pronunciation too rounded on the vowels. But he’ll be damned if it ain’t just fucking adorable.

“Anytime,” he tells you.

It’s not long after he’s back in his seat that you bring him a complimentary cup of coffee and a muffin. The good stuff too, not the swill that usually gets served in economy. He grabs your wrist before you can leave, grip just a little too tight without meaning to be.

“Can I see you again?”

Your grasp of the language isn’t the best, and it takes you a minute to puzzle out what he's asked. When you finally get it, you smile at him and shake your head. Rueful.

“Against company policy to meet the passengers after the flight ends.”

He lets it go. Sighs and says he understands, wouldn’t want to get you in trouble. A surprisingly polite answer from a man who looks like he never hears the word no without following it with a punch to the teeth.

But he doesn’t let it go. Not really. After the plane is deboarded, he skips lines and almost skips customs to keep his eye on you. When you get into a shuttle bus with the rest of your coworkers, he takes careful note of the hotel name scrawled on the side.

His business goes well - if you can call smuggling business that is. The boys he’s dealing with have their own plane to get him home. The kind of small jet that never lands at any airport marked on a map. He slips them all a little something extra under the table and asks if he can bring a guest.

“Will they be conscious?”

He grins. “Not if I can help it.”

Getting you is the tricky part. He borrows a suit and cleans himself up. Shows up at the hotel desk in the middle of the night and tells them he’s here to pick you up for an unscheduled early flight. He knows your name, your company, even your damn rank in the crew. Everything he says checks out. And if the receptionist that calls you thinks he looks a little rough to be a driver, she doesn’t mention it.

You show up with your uniform a tiny bit askew and a sock sticking out of your suitcase. You must have scrambled out of bed without even bothering to double check with your supervisor. Good. The less people that know the better.

He mostly keeps his back to you. Doesn’t want you to recognise him too soon. He shouldn’t have worried. You’re too jetlagged and blurry eyed to even recognise your own mother.

It’s only when you’re in his car and speeding down the wrong highway that you start to get suspicious. Start to come awake fully.

“Which company did you say you work for again?”

He doesn’t reply. You’re going to have to put more effort into learning and speaking his language. No point encouraging you by answering.

“Excuse me?”

You lean forward to get his attention and when he hears your little gasp, he knows the game is up. That you recognise him. Honestly, he’s a little offended that it took you this long. He could keep track of you through a sea of faces back at the airport after all.

“Listen, I don’t know why you’re here. But please stop the car.”

See? You’re speaking his language a bit better already.

“No chance sweetheart. You’re coming home with me.”

He can almost admire your guts when you go straight for the door, despite the speedometer showing over 200. Locked of course. He’s not an idiot.

When he finally arrives at the hangar, it takes him and two other thugs to finally hold you still.

“Fucking feisty thing,” one of them snarls when you land a good kick to his knee.

When he finally manages to prick the injection into your neck, you’re crying so hard that your mascara is running.

“You put up a good fight baby,” he comforts you as you go limp in his arms. “But I just want this more than you.”

His buddies smirk when they look at your body sprawled out on the seat.

“Nice catch. I’m mad I didn’t see her first.”

“You gonna be nice and share?”

That makes him grin. “We’ll see. If she’s too much to handle, well…”

That makes them snicker.

You shouldn’t assume someone’s a thug just ‘cause of the way they look. But in his case, those scars weren’t earned through gentle accidents.

And when he gets you home, someplace probably tropical, someplace where a missing foreigner isn't that surprising a thing, he'll show you exactly how dangerous it is to smile at a criminal and expect him to just let it go.

[hhughes]

𐔌 　 ⁺　 𝐀𝐆𝐄 𝐈𝐒 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐀 𝐍𝐔𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐑 𓂃۶ৎ

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 , after some comments were made by quinn's brothers, you get a little insecure in your relationship and he has to reassure you

𝒇𝒆𝒂𝒕. luke!bsf x quinn hughes. 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒕. fluff. teasing. flirting. 𝒙𝒐 𝒄𝒂𝒎𝒊. I love writing quinn so much😭 this is a repost that’s slightly edited if it looks a little familiar to you. one of my favs things ive ever written to this day so thanks again to the anon who requested it! <333

you and quinn had been dating a few months now. sneaking around behind everyone's backs including luke. your best friend and quinn's youngest brother.

the four of you were sitting in the living room at the lake house, watching some movie. jack and luke were chirping quinn about some actress that he used to have a crush on. going on and on about how he had a thing for older women because he was such a mommas boy.

you laughed along at first, always finding it so endearing to watch the brothers bicker back and forth. even though you've been around to witness it for quite a few years now...it never got old. your smile quickly faded when jack started making comments about how all quinn's relationships with younger women has failed, and that he should go for someone older this time, cause it doesn't seem like the younger girls can handle him.

you know you shouldn't let these comments bother you. it wasn't that serious and it wasn't directed towards you, but it was one of your, if not the biggest insecurity you had when it came to your relationship with quinn. being four years younger than him. not being enough to keep him interested. these comments from two people who probably knew him the best, didn't do anything to reassure you.

"I'll be right back," you whisper, avoiding quinn's eyes as you make your way to the bathroom.

a few minutes later there's a soft knock on the door and quinn enters, when you answer, shutting the door behind him and coming over to where you're standing in front of the sink. he wraps his arms around you from behind, pulling you closer and kissing your shoulder softly.

"what's wrong sweetheart?" he asks you softly, brushing the hair out of your face as he holds you tight. the time he’s had to spent close to you but not allowed to touch you, having taken its toll on him.

"nothing," you mumble and he puts his hands on your hips, spinning you around to face him and pushing you against the counter.

"don't lie to me. I know you well enough to know everything's not okay and even if I didnt this pout is enough to tell me there's something wrong." quinn says, rubbing circles on your hip and tracing your lips with the thumb of his other hand.

"do you think I'm too young for you?" the words fly out before you can stop them and quinn sighs, knowing his brother's comments was the cause of this.

"age is just a number baby," quinn says teasingly, kissing your lips softly and you sigh.

"quinn I'm being serious," you retort, grabbing both of his hands and holding them in yours, the way they were caressing you becoming a little too distracting.

"so am I. I don't care if you're four years younger or four years older or if you were born the exact same day I was. It doesn't change the fact that you're perfect for me. you know how jack is, especially if he's been drinking, he can't keep his mouth shut. if there's an opportunity to chirp me about something, he’s gonna take it. if they knew that we were together, he would be more careful about making remarks like that. you know both of them adore you and would never say anything to hurt you on purpose" quinn says and you bite the inside of your cheek, knowing he was right.

“and besides, those relationships didn’t work out because they just weren’t the right girl for me baby. not because they were younger. they just weren’t you” he says softly, pressing yet another kiss to your collarbone.

"i’m not ready to tell luke yet." you say and quinn nods, expecting that response from you.

"the longer we wait, the worse it's gonna be." quinn replies and you look down, not wanting to argue about this. again.

quinn sighs softly before taking his hand out of yours and cupping your face between his palms, planting a soft kiss on your lips.

"god it's torture seeing you all day and not being able to touch you. kiss you." he says wrapping his arms around your waist and just hugging you for a few minutes. you smile a bit, thinking that this is exactly why he was nicknamed "huggy bear". your guy loves hugging.

"I'll sneak into your room tonight. if you think a young girl like me can handle you," you quip and quinn chuckles, knowing you're not gonna let that go for a while.

"I think you can handle me just fine baby" quinn smirks, slapping your ass as you walk past him, and out the door.

��𝒐 𝒄𝒂𝒎𝒊. thank you for reading and feel free to drop by the inbox and share any and all thoughts <333

[ylangelegy]

a lesson in begging 🚇 soonyoung x reader x jihoon.

jihoon learns the art of saying 'please', courtesy of his best friend and his best friend's girlfriend.

★ word count: 3.7k ★ genre/warnings: 18+ content. smut with 🤏 pinch of plot; jihoon-centric after the intro. established relationship (soonyoung x reader), mentions of female anatomy, pet names (s: ‘baby’, ‘goddess’, ‘good boy’). exhibitionism, voyeurism, oral (f receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, so much begging, both soonyoung and jihoon are kind of pathetic [lovingly] in this one.  ★ footnotes: once again, when your biases release a song single album, you write the goddamn smut (2). shoutout to urbano latino & reggaeton music for getting me through this, and to @gyubakeries, @gotta-winwin & @diamonddaze01 for the hand-holding.

Soonyoung likes to think he’s a pretty generous guy. 

He’s never selfish about what he has. He shares when he can to anyone who asks. You, in particular, never have time to want anything; your darling boyfriend is attune to anything your heart might ever desire.

And if that just so happens to be his best friend Jihoon? Well, like we’ve established: Soonyoung is always going to give. 

You hadn’t really been discreet about it. You’d been guilty, maybe, but you were a language that Soonyoung was fluent in. He saw the way you’d watch Jihoon while the latter worked out, saw the way your face would light up when you’d hear the other man was coming over for one reason or another. 

A normal boyfriend would have been alarmed, might have thrown a fit. But Soonyoung was never normal to begin with. 

And— he never admitted this to you, did he?— he’d rather it be Jihoon than anyone else, anyway. 

You’re mortified when Soonyoung first brings it up. You’re ready to apologize for thinking Jihoon is sex on legs, but then Soonyoung makes his proposition. 

“I promised I’d give you everything, baby.” His voice is sweet and earnest. There’s no hint of maliciousness in it; he’s not using this as leverage. “Let me get you this, too.” 

That’s another thing about Soonyoung: It’s always been so hard to say ‘no’ to him. 

Jihoon is convinced this is some form of elaborate prank.

The words that just came out of Soonyoung’s mouth have yet to register to him. After ‘not a threesome’ a couple of sentences ago, Jihoon just kind of blanked out. 

You’re sitting on the edge of the bed you share with Soonyoung. You look pretty, Jihoon thinks, but then he corrects himself. You’re always pretty. 

Crap. That’s what got him in this situation, isn’t it? 

Jihoon takes a steadying breath when he realizes that you and Soonyoung are waiting for a response. “I’m sorry,” says Jihoon, keeping his voice as even as possible, “but what the actual fuck?” 

Soonyoung snickers. You look a little less amused. You elbow your boyfriend, a look of mild horror crossing your expression. 

“You didn’t warn him before inviting him over?” you seethe.

Soonyoung rubs the side you’d hit.  “I thought we could all talk about it together,” he shoots back. “You know, like a proper discussion.” 

“A discussion,” Jihoon echoes. He’s not sure if it’s you or him that’s going to throttle Soonyoung first. 

Jihoon’s mental list of how he intends to physically harm Soonyoung comes to a temporary pause. You’re looking at Jihoon, now, with an expression that’s almost apologetic. It makes something seize up in the man’s chest. 

“I didn’t mean to put you in an uncomfortable situation,” you say. “I just thought…” 

You trail off, and it’s the cruelest cliffhanger Jihoon has ever witnessed. “Thought what?” he prompts, shoving his hands in his pockets. That way, you wouldn’t have to see how he’s started shaking. 

Soonyoung finishes what you started. “We thought you wanted this.”

As if to explain what this was, Soonyoung reaches over from behind you and places his hand on your thigh. Jihoon’s eyes flick to the movement, but he looks away just as quickly. 

Soonyoung gives your thigh a light, reassuring squeeze. His eyes never leave Jihoon’s face. There’s a bit of a challenge, a hint of something serious. Like Soonyoung is daring Jihoon to deny his wants, deny this, deny you.

You— looking criminally lovely, watching Jihoon with caution and concern. There’s an undercurrent of distress in your expression, mixing with the annoyance at Soonyoung’s lack of tact. 

Jihoon swallows around the lump in his throat. He says something. It’s barely above a whisper. 

“Pardon?” you call out.

To hell with it, Jihoon thinks. To hell with it all.

He tries again, pitching his voice a little louder. “I do,” he says, wavering a bit on the words, “want this.” 

Want you, he had meant to say, but he chickened out at the last moment. It doesn’t matter. You and Soonyoung hear it anyway, and both your expressions shift into something more pleasant. Soonyoung looks smug. You, reassured. 

The room suddenly feels a lot warmer. There’s still considerable distance between Jihoon and the two of you. It’s the only thing keeping him sane, really. 

“That’s good.” The sheer relief in your tone could drive Jihoon crazy. You go on, “I would have hated to misread.” 

Misread which part, Jihoon wonders. The way his eyes always lingered a little too long on the hems of your shorts and skirts? The way all his sharp edges would soften when it came to you? 

Jihoon wants you, has wanted you for months. He had convinced himself that he was The World’s Worst Best Friend Ever, even. But Soonyoung is now looking at Jihoon like the latter is the opposite of that. The World’s Best Best Friend Ever— for agreeing to please you.

This arrangement would undoubtedly have consequences, even if it were a one-time thing. Jihoon can’t bring himself to care, though. He’s not about to look a gift horse in the mouth. 

He closes the distance, reveling in the tension that crackles with each step. You tilt your head back ever so slightly in a bid to never break eye contact with Jihoon. 

“You didn’t misread,” Jihoon says quietly. “I— you’re pretty.” 

He had hoped to soften the blow with I think, but why deny himself of the plain and simple truth? You’re so soft as you look up at Jihoon, the gratitude written all over your face. The tender moment is short-lived, though, because Soonyoung inevitably butts in. 

“Just pretty?” Your boyfriend sounds offended on your behalf. “Is that all you’ve got, Jihoon?” 

“Soonyoung,” you chide, but the older man barrels on. 

“Pretty isn’t enough,” Soonyoung insists. His hand slides up your thigh, tugging your dress up a little higher. This time, Jihoon lets himself watch, lets himself appreciate your skin as it’s revealed to him. “Do better, Jihoon.” 

“What might you suggest?” Jihoon asks, unable to look away from the hint of red lace underneath your dress. 

Soonyoung hums lowly. He leans forward, his teeth catching at your earlobe as he keeps your back pressed firmly against his chest. 

“Ethereal,” Soonyoung whispers reverently. “Gorgeous.” 

There wasn’t a doubt in Jihoon’s mind that Soonyoung adored you, practically worshipped the ground you worked on. This made the whole situation even more surreal, but Jihoon can’t look away— at how your eyes flutter close, how your breath hitches ever so slightly.

You’re so damn responsive. Jihoon’s heart thunders in his chest. He can’t imagine how this will end, and it hasn’t even begun. 

“Baby,” you say, and Soonyoung quits his teasing. 

He rests his chin on your shoulder and fixes his gaze on Jihoon. “If you want something,” Soonyoung drawls, “you’re going to have to beg for it.” 

For the first time that night, Jihoon’s facade of calculated calmness crumples. Beg for it? Jihoon wasn’t about to beg Soonyoung for a thing. Soonyoung was the one calling in for a favor, technically. As badly as Jihoon wants you, he can’t imagine himself ever being on his knees for Soonyoung. For anything. 

Soonyoung notices Jihoon’s agitation. The blonde’s face breaks out into a shit-eating grin, the kind that promises trouble for days. 

“Like this,” Soonyoung chirps, and then he pulls the rug underneath Jihoon’s feet. 

Soonyoung shifts on the bed, moving around until he’s at your side instead of cradling you from behind. He presses his knees into the mattress and he wrings his hands together, his face tilted towards yours. 

“Please,” Soonyoung tells you sweetly. “Please, please, baby?”

Jihoon’s brain short-circuits. He barely has time to think holy shit before Soonyoung ups his act, showering you with compliments about how perfect you are, about how badly he needs— needs, not wants— you.

You smile a bit before putting Soonyoung out of his misery. It’s not the first time Jihoon has seen the two of you make out, but it’s the first time that you open your eyes mid-kiss to glance at Jihoon, as if checking to see if he’s still watching. 

Soonyoung isn’t dealing the cards tonight. You are. 

Noted, Jihoon thinks, as he watches you lick into Soonyoung’s mouth. Your boyfriend lets out a sound between a guttural moan and a happy hum. He pulls away a moment later, his grin dopey and his gaze unfocused. 

“Good boys get rewarded,” Soonyoung tells Jihoon matter-of-factly.  

Jihoon winces. God, he’d rather die than be called a ‘good boy’ by Kwon Soonyoung, of all people. Jihoon is mentally weighing the pros and cons of this whole situation when Soonyoung shuffles backward, leaning against the headboard. Now, it’s just you and Jihoon at the foot of the bed. 

He doesn’t know what he should do. Sit? Kiss you senseless? Soonyoung answers for him— 

“Beg, Jihoon.” Soonyoung’s tone brooks no argument. “Tell my girlfriend what you want from her.” 

You look expectant. Jihoon hadn’t noticed that earlier. So much of you was unassuming, from your perceived shyness to your sundress hiding the red lingerie that was undoubtedly hugging all your curves right. The thought of it makes the front of Jihoon’s jeans feel a lot tighter. 

He clears his throat. He got this far; he might as well. And nobody outside this room would have to know, right? 

“Please,” Jihoon mumbles. 

He expects Soonyoung to speak up, so he’s a bit thrown when you’re the one who goes for the jab. “What was that?” you ask, and it would be innocent if it weren’t for the hint of a smirk on your lips. 

Jihoon inwardly prays for the ground to swallow him whole. When that doesn’t happen, he instead grits out his next words. 

“Please,” he says through his teeth. “May I kiss you?” 

It’s a piss poor attempt, but you’re nothing if not benevolent. Your fingers close around the front of Jihoon’s shirt and you tug him downward. 

He nearly stumbles when he feels your mouth against him. Jihoon isn’t sure if he can touch, whether he can even manage, so he ends up grabbing fistfuls of the sheets beneath you as you give him what he asked for. 

You kiss him so sweetly. It’s a dangerous thing, one that Jihoon fears he could grow addicted to if he wasn’t careful. Your tongue traces Jihoon’s bottom lip as if testing the waters, and he fights the urge to grab you by the waist and show you exactly how that makes him feel. 

The kiss breaks with the two of you gasping for air. Jihoon doesn’t know when he leaned further into your personal space, but he can feel your heaving chest against his own and it’s maddening. 

Jihoon had been so lost in the moment he’d forgotten Soonyoung was there, even. The latter pipes up, acutely aware that the kiss hadn’t been enough. That you’d pulled away too soon, leaving Jihoon in absolute shambles. 

“If you want more,” Soonyoung says, “you’re going to have to beg harder, Jihoon.”

This is either the best or the worst thing that has ever happened to Jihoon. He’ll decide later, he thinks to himself, as his hands finally find purchase at your hips.

Miraculously, Jihoon finds his voice. “Let me taste you.” Every moment in this room is chipping away at his pride, if the way he whines out the next word is any indication. 

“Please,” Jihoon says desperately, despairingly. 

It was the very first thing Jihoon remembered learning as a child. Say please, he had been taught. It’s the polite thing to do. It shows you have good manners. 

There’s nothing polite about the way Jihoon finds himself in between your thighs. There’s nothing good-mannered about the moans he tears out of you, about the way your fingers tug at his hair in a way that’s almost painful. 

You’re on your back, your head in Soonyoung’s lap as Jihoon works on you like a man starved. Your dress is pushed up your chest; Soonyoung could take the opportunity to play with your breasts. Instead, he keeps your hair out of your face and lovingly gazes at you as you thrash underneath Jihoon’s assault. 

“Enjoying yourself, baby?” Soonyoung coos.

Your response— something between yes and fuck you— breaks off into a keening whine when Jihoon doubles his efforts. He diligently laps up the slick of your sopping cunt before introducing his fingers; the two digits slide in with little to no resistance, and he rewards you by sucking on your clit. 

“Jihoon,” you cry out, your back arching off the bed. “Oh my God, Ji— hng— where did you—?” 

“Learn all that?” Soonyoung interjects. You’re too preoccupied to care about your boyfriend interrupting, too focused on Jihoon who has started crooking his fingers. “You know what they say, baby. It’s always the quiet ones you have to look out for.” 

Jihoon isn’t about to try and contest Soonyoung, not when you’re writhing so beautifully underneath his mouth. It’s borderline painful, the way Jihoon is grasping your hip like his life depends on it. 

An obscene slurp and the tease of another finger is all it takes to have you falling over the edge. Jihoon slows his ministrations, enjoying the feel of you tightening around his fingers. 

He pulls away as you come back down to earth. The entire lower half of his face glistens with your slick. Jihoon is obnoxious enough to dart his tongue around his mouth and smack his lips, as if trying to taste as much of you as possible. 

Soonyoung cackles. He’s enjoying this far more than he probably should. You can tell, though; there’s a tent in your boyfriend’s sweatpants, his clothed hardness pressing against your cheek. 

You nuzzle closer to it, a wordless whine escaping you. Soonyoung gets the message.

“Come on, baby,” he coaxes, guiding you further up the mattress. As he helps you out of your dress, Jihoon situates himself a bit better at the foot of the bed. 

He’s in desperate need of friction himself. Absent-mindedly, he palms himself over his jeans, watching as Soonyoung guides you to get on all fours. 

Soonyoung’s clothes join yours on the floor. It isn’t the first time that Jihoon has seen Soonyoung’s cock— a story for another time— but there’s still a moment where the younger man is jolted. Having experienced, now, just how tight you are, Jihoon can’t even fathom how Soonyoung can fit inside you. 

If either of you notice Jihoon’s attempts to relieve himself, you’re both graceful enough to not comment on it. Soonyoung focuses on bracing himself behind you, one hand resting at your waist while the other gives his cock a couple of leisurely pumps. 

You’re already primed to be fucked, but Soonyoung is taking his time. No, Jihoon realizes. 

Soonyoung is putting on a show. 

There’s a lazy smirk on Soonyoung’s face when he locks eyes with Jihoon. For a moment, Jihoon is tempted to stop touching himself, but it’s like he physically can’t stop himself. Meanwhile, Soonyoung is busying himself with rubbing the length of his cock against the curve of your ass— giving you time to recover from your orgasm while also making Jihoon suffer. 

“Wanna fuck my girlfriend, Jihoon?” Soonyoung taunts. “Want her greedy cunt around your cock, hm?” 

You let out a low hiss of warning as Jihoon bites back a moan. Soonyoung reels in his bravado, sliding his hand up to entangle his fingers in your hair. 

“Sorry, baby,” he says soothingly. “Didn’t mean to talk about you like that.” 

Soonyoung pushes your hair over your shoulder so he has better access to your back. He places a couple of kisses across your shoulder blades before glancing back up at Jihoon, the earlier mischievousness considerably dialed down now. 

“You know what you have to do,” Soonyoung tells Jihoon. “She’s in charge. Ask.” 

The remnants of Jihoon’s shredded pride hold him back. To ask for a kiss, to ask to eat you out— what the hell, sure. To ask if he can fuck you into next week? 

Jihoon squeezes himself through his pants, his gaze fixated on the way you’re looking up at him with dazed anticipation. He almost salivates at the thought of your soft, warm walls trying to accommodate him. 

Alas, his blasted pride. Jihoon opens his mouth then promptly clamps it close, unable to bring himself for this. 

Soonyoung lets out a low ‘tch’ of disapproval. “Suit yourself,” he huffs. 

Like a switch that had been flipped, Soonyoung now focuses all his attention on you. “Goddess,” your boyfriend says against your skin, his tone so loving that Jihoon feels like he’s intruding. “Can I make you feel good? Make you finish a second time tonight?”

You give a jerky nod, canting your hips backward until Soonyoung is lined up with you. “Yes, baby,” you whimper, keeping your eyes on Jihoon despite the fact you’re seeking out Soonyoung. “Want you inside me right now.” 

“I know, I know,” Soonyoung groans like your words have brought him pain, like it physically hurts him to hear you plead for anything. “I’ll give, baby. I’ll give.” 

Soonyoung slides home, benefiting from the slickness of your first orgasm. The two of you let out twin moans. It takes everything in Jihoon not to come on the spot. 

Jihoon never thought he’d been into this. He’s frozen, incapable of moving or looking away, as Soonyoung plows into you with practiced thrusts. Your fingers twist into the sheets below you and you struggle to keep your head up, your eyes open. 

Your gaze is half-lidded as you watch Jihoon’s slack-jawed expression. It has you fluttering around Soonyoung, who squeezes the flesh of your ass in retaliation. 

“Shit.” Your boyfriend picks up his relentless pace, his free hand carefully pressing between your shoulder blades. You sink a little further into the mattress and Soonyoung takes advantage of it, driving himself deeper into you. 

“You like having an audience, baby?” Soonyoung breathes.

Somehow, you manage to nod. Jihoon’s fingers close a little tighter around the outline of his jeans and, slowly, tentatively, he goes back to rubbing himself through the rough material. It’s equal parts painful and pleasurable but he figures it’s what he deserves for getting off to his best friend’s girlfriend. 

“Tell me what he looks like,” Soonyoung urges, his hands tangling into your hair again. He clutches at your roots and pulls your head back enough so that you have a better view of Jihoon. “Describe it for me, please.” 

Soonyoung is always so polite and tender when it comes to you. Jihoon gets you, now; he really does. That doesn’t help the way his dick twitches when he sees the blissed out look on your face, like being stuffed with Soonyoung’s cock had somehow fucked all the thoughts out of your head.

Jihoon must not be looking any better than you, because there’s a ghost of a smile on your face as you fulfill your boyfriend’s request. “He looks desperate,” you mewl, your fingers flexing around the crumpled sheets underneath you. “Looks like he needs something, baby.” 

Soonyoung chuckles. “And what does he need?” 

“Dunno.” You roll your hips to meet one of Soonyoung’s thrusts, drawing a heated cuss from the man. “He isn’t asking.” 

A muscle in Jihoon’s jaw ticks. Oh, this was a different kind of torture. He has half the mind to pull his pants down and shove his dick in your mouth to shut—

“Be nice, baby,” Soonyoung warns, “or else I won’t let you finish.” 

It’s an empty threat. Even Jihoon knows that much. You have Soonyoung wrapped around your little finger, and your boyfriend will go to the ends of the world to please you. 

Still, you play along. You attempt to apologize, but the word breaks off when Soonyoung slides his fingers over to your clit. His thrusts are uncoordinated with the circles he draws over the sensitive nub, but you don’t seem to mind. 

Your eyes are watery from the onslaught of sensations, your legs are shaky, and your lips are parted in a perpetual gasp. Jihoon thinks it’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. 

A sound finally escapes him. It’s a quiet thing— barely a moan— but Soonyoung catches it anyway. 

“You’re already on your knees,” Soonyoung tells you quietly, conspiratorially. “How about you show Jihoon how we ask in this relationship, hm?” 

It’s so quick, so sudden. Jihoon barely has time to catch on and prepare himself before you’re surging forward, your fingers wrapping around his wrist. You replace his hand with your lips, mouthing his hardness over his jeans. 

You’re just as sloppy as Soonyoung. There’s no method to the way you clamp your lips over Jihoon’s clothed cock. It’s all drool, a hint of teeth. A crude imitation of what it’d be like if you actually took him in your mouth. 

And Jihoon— he’s surprised he’s still breathing, actually. His hands find purchase at your shoulders, torn between pushing you off and keeping you in place. He settles for the latter, his eyes blown wide as he watches you give him this perverse blowjob.

“Fuck,” Jihoon rasps. “Fuck, fuck, fuuuck—” 

You look up at him then. It’s not your eyes that does him over. Not your sweat-slicked forehead or your flushed cheeks. No, it’s the way you pull away ever so briefly, your entire body rocking as Soonyoung continues to pummel into you. 

Your breath is warm over Jihoon’s crotch as you whine a single word. 

“Please?” 

He doesn’t even know what you’re asking for. Regardless, he busts his load with a pained grunt. It’s uncomfortable to come undone in his boxers, with his pants still on, but he can’t help himself.

Soonyoung follows not long after, emptying his load into you. He hisses as he finishes, his own climax bringing you to your second high.

You slump forward, your mouth instinctively latching back onto Jihoon’s waning hardness. He’s so sensitive, but he makes no effort to pull you away from his front. Soonyoung doesn’t seem keen on moving yet either, his thumbs rubbing soothing circles into the skin of your hips.

“See?” Soonyoung says, his voice wrecked but his grin as annoyingly smug as ever. “Good boy, Jihoon.” 

[luvyeni]

sungchan doesn’t find it funny how funny you think it is that anton has a crush on you …

𝓲𝓲 ㅤ𓈒ㅤ𓈒𓈒 ( 이제노 x fem!reader )   ─── ❛ genre ⸝⸝ smut. content warning. unprotected sex, language word count. 0.4k 「 req? ⦂ yes/no 」 library  !

at first he thought he was being paranoid; crazy even. but then came the long stares at you when he thought he wasn't looking, the constant wanting to be around you.

“he fucking likes you.” sungchan said ; closing the door of his bedroom. “sungchan you’re being ridiculous, he's your brother.” you laughed , that was pissing him off , your lack of care for the situation. “that makes it worse , my brother wants to fuck my girlfriend.” he said with a scoff. “and my girlfriend thinks it’s so fucking halarious.”

you rolled your eyes. “because you’re acting as if i’ll go into his room and ride him, sungchan it’s a school boy crush , not that deep.” you plopped down on his bed. “expect he’s not a fucking middle schooler , he’s a legal adult.” he said. “my god sungchan do you want me to go fuck your brother is that what you want?” you meant this as a joke — maybe not the best joke to tell you at that moment. “are you fucking serious?”

“sungchan— shut up.” your eyes widened at his sudden voice change. “you think this shit is funny?” he said. “you like knowing he likes you , does that shit turn you on or something?” you shake your head. “of course it doesn’t chan , i only love you.” you said. “prove it.” he said. “huh?” you questioned. “we can’t do that , yo-you’re brother is still here.” he smirked. “good , lay back.”

“fu-fuck sungchan.” you moaned , biting your lips to keep from making any loud noises as your boyfriend hovered above you; his cock reaching deep inside you as he fucked you. “don’t fu-fuck don’t do that.” he growled , grabbing your cheeks. “don’t fucking hide your moans.” he said. “let him hear you.” he said , fucking deeper inside you if that was possible. “let him fucking hear.”

he hit the spot inside you; a moan ripped from your throat with warning. “sungchan!” he sped up , gripping your waist. “that’s it be fucking loud.” he grunted , the headboard knocking against the wall. “ch-channie th-the wa-wall.” he scoffed. “i don’t give a fuck about the headboard , don’t focus on that , focus on taking my cock.”

covering your moans were now on the back burner; your mind was focusing on cumming and sungchan ; the only one who could get you there. “no one can fuck you like this.” he moaned. “only i can make you dumb like this.” he rubbed you clit. “c-cum.”

“you gonna cum?” he hummed. “ye-yes , channie gonna cum.” you whined , stomach tightening. “cum for me , be loud for me.” he gave your cunt a few light slaps , sending you over the edge. “sungchan!” you screamed , as you came hard around him. “oh fuck.” he hissed. “fuck im gonna cum.” he thrusted a few times. “shit.” he hissed as he came inside you pulling out , watching it leak out. “you have a problem.” you huffed. “he probably heard us.” your boyfriend smirked , kissing your forehead.

“good now he knows your mine.”

©️LUVYENI

[tinyd3ath]

🎀🩰 Bulking Weight 🎀🩰

“Come on mama, fuck! Just be a good girl and take it so I can give you all my cum. That’s what you want right.”

Or

Bakugou gets a little insecure about the extra weight he gained while bulking, and you fuck the insecurity out of him.

Originally posted on A03

🎀🩰

“This was so much fun.” You practically bouncing with joy. It’s been forever since y’all have been on patrol together.

“Whatever dumbass, don’t slow me down.” You throw a glare his way.

“Don’t forget I’m still your wife, your ass will be on the couch if you keep talking to me like that.”

He scuffs in response knowing not to test you, but still wanting to have the last “word”. You giggle at him. You find it cute how unbothered he tries to seem.

Today seemed to be a pretty calm day for patrol. So far you’ve only broken up two fights, saved a cat, and taken pictures with a few fans.

You guys got a call that you can end the day early since it’s been pretty slow all over the city. You two are walking back to the agency now. Bakugou can feel the excitement rolling off you. He can’t help, but crack a little smirk. Seeing his pretty wife practically glow with excitement lights something inside him. He thought he’d be over all the puppy love by now, but watching you walk down the street smiling while the sun hits your skin making your cheeks look like those caramel/chocolate commercials makes him just wanna sink his teeth in you. In a good way of course.

“What are you so excited about anyways?”

“I was planning on watching the new game of thrones series when we got back, and now I get to watch it earlier than planned” You squeal.

Gosh you’re such a nerd. He never understood why you like those British shows. They all look like their bodies, and breath smell like ass. Yeah, the fight scenes are cool, but other than that what do you watch it for?

He was too busy thinking about how weird your taste in television was to notice a group of teenagers boys walking down the sidewalk towards y’all. He’s shaken out of his thoughts by the force of the tallest in the group shoulder checking him.

“Watch old man.” The tall box dyed blonde says to Bakugou. The kid’s friends all snicker. Bakugou stops , and turns to the group.

“Didn’t your parents teach you to respect your superiors? Especially the ones out here keeping your ass safe.”

The blonde teen just rolled his eyes.

“You should be less worried about my parents, and more worried about your beer belly. Fat ass.” Before he can stop, and think about it Bakugou goes to grab the kid by the collar. But you are quicker, and grab his arm before he can do so.

“Come on I wanna go home.” You plead with your eyes for him to let it go. He really wants to teach these fuckers a lesson, but his need to please you outweighs his need to rub some random brat’s face in the dirt. He grunts in agreement, and lets you drag him away. He can hear the boys laughing as y’all walk away. But all he cares about is getting his pretty wife on the couch surrounded by your favorite snacks.

You use your quirk to knock the kid on his ass before you guys get too far. Teenagers fucking suck.

—

While sitting on the couch with you later he couldn’t help replay what that brat said earlier. He noticed he’d gained a little fat, but it’s because he’s bulking. Was it really that noticeable? Why haven’t you said anything? He started to feel as if he led you on.

When you first meet back in school he wasn’t all jacked, but he was far from fat. The body you feel in love with. The one you loved so much your panties would get wet just from looking at isn’t the same anymore.

Did you still even find him attractive?

Bakugou can’t bring himself to ask you about it. He says that he’ll just watch you carefully to see any signs of discomfort . The problem was you look so unfazed. He can’t tell if it’s because you haven’t noticed, don’t care, or if you’re trying to look unbothered to not hurt his feelings.

His feelings weren’t hurt, maybe his ego was a little bruised. But the fact you’re the type to go around problems that aren’t problems to protect other’s feelings only adds to the uncertainty.

What Bakugou didn’t notice was that you picked up on his discomfort. You noticed the long looks in the mirror after every shower. The not wanting to cuddle every night like he usually does. Most of all the lack of intimacy.

You guys haven’t had sex in almost a week. Every time y’all start to get hot, and heavy he just eats you out the rolls over and says goodnight.

Head is great. But fuck, you wanna feel the weight of your husband on top of you as he makes love to you.

You decid you’ve had enough. Whatever is worrying him so much you’re going find out and fix. At dinner you decide to finally speak about it.

“Katsuki.” Almost immediately Bakugou looks up at you.

“Yes?” Worry lines your face. Bakugou starts to panic thinking something happened to make you upset. Just as he was about to ask if you were okay you cut him off.

“What’s wrong? You’ve been acting different. You haven’t been as affectionate or intimate. Are you not attracted to me anymore?”

Now he really starts to panic. How could you, his beautiful perfect wife ever think you were the problem? How could he not be attracted to you? You were hand crafted by God himself. You are the only woman he could ever love. Never once had he ever questioned your beauty. Even in school when he thought you were annoying, he still found you breathtaking.

“Are you crazy there’s no way I couldn’t be attracted to you.”

“Then what’s the problem?” He pauses, and shaky breath in. Should he lie, or let you know that some punk made him a little insecure?

No, he can’t lie to you. For this whole ‘death do us part’ thing to work he’s gonna have to be honest with you. Even if it makes him uncomfortable.

“…I’m afraid that you don’t find me attractive now that I’ve put on some pounds.” He’s too embarrassed to even look up from his plate. There’s silence for a minute. He starts to worry that he’s actually right. But when he looks up to see your face it’s filled with nothing, but love. You get up from your seat, and walk over to him. You reach out to stroke his cheek.

“There’s nothing that would make me stop loving, or finding you unattractive. And I have noticed the extra pounds, but honestly it’s kinda doing it for me.” You giggle at his stunned face. You pull him in for a kiss. It starts off tinder. Full of the love you two share. But with new found confidence Bakugou starts to get impatient. He missed this. Your body against his. The kiss becomes more intense as he pulls you closer to him.

He lifts you by the back of your knees, and carries you to your shared bedroom. You let out a squeal as you’re dropped on the bed. Bakugou chuckles at you, but you aren’t given enough time to say anything about before he reconnects your lips. He starts moving his kisses lower, and nips at your jaw.

Between nibbles, and kisses Baukgou breathes out “God I’ve missed this”.

You let out a startled moan when he goes lower, and sucks your nipple through your thin shirt. You feel his lips curve into a smirk at your reaction.

You start to get impatient from all the nipping,and kissing. You’ve been deprived of him for too long. You whine as you tug on his shirt letting him know you want it off. Bakugou can’t help,

but coo at you, and give a kiss to your pouty lips.

“I know pretty girl, I know. Just let me taste you first baby.” He peels your clothes off before laying between your legs. His mouth waters every time he see your beautiful cunt. He watches as more slick leaks from you. He uses his thumb to spread it across your lips, before giving your clit the tiniest rub. It’s a ghost of a touch, and it drives you crazy. You start whining down at your husband begging with your pretty eyes for more, and who is he to tell you no? He replaces his hand with his mouth.

He loves the smell, and taste of you. He never thought there’d be a day he would be obsessed with a vagina, but after y’all’s first time he’s been hooked. He licks you like it give him just as much pleasure. The room is filled with your moans, and the sloppy sound of your dripping hole and his mouth . You grab at his hair, and start rolling your hips up into his face. Bakugou’s eyes rolling back at the feeling of you rubbing your juices all over his lower face and nose.

Bakugou sucks your clit between his lips while flicking the tip of his tongue against it. The clinching in your stomach gets tighter, and you know you’re close. But when he slightly nibbles on your clit you know it’s over. You cry out as you ride your orgasm out on his face. After you calm down Bakugou sits up on his knees to see your fucked out expression, and heaving chest.

As good as him eating you out was, it wasn’t what you wanted. You tug at his pants with pleading eyes, expressing what you really want.

“What pretty girl you can’t use your words?” He says in that mockingly sweet voice. He likes seeing his pretty wife like this. All desperate, and sparkling eyed. It’s impossible not to get hard while watching you squirm, and beg for his cock. It’s when you pout up to him all big eyed, and desperate that he gives you what you want. No matter how hard he tries he can’t say no to you. His beautiful sweet wife. If he could he’d give you the universe. He pulls his shirt off, and tosses it across the room. He then removes his belt, and pants leaving him in just his underwear. He starts to feel a little uneasy showing all this extra skin to you, but seeing the hungry look on your face burns it all away.

You feel yourself getting wetter as you stare at your husband’s changed body. You felt the extra weight, but seeing it makes you so much more hornier than you expected. All his bulging muscles. Instead of being lean like before he’s fuller. His stomach has become slightly rounder, and his shoulders, chest, and biceps meatier.

“Fuck I need you.” A evil smirk breaks out across Bakugou’s face.

“Come get it baby.” You tug his underwear down causing his cock to flop out. The swollen pink tip leaks with precum. You give him a few strokes before leaning down, and giving the tip a sweet kiss. You suck the tip into your mouth while wiggling your hips in the air knowing how much he loves seeing your ass move. Bakugou groans at the display. But you only get two head bobs in before he’s pulling you off, and pushing you on your back.

“That can wait for later. Weren’t you just begging me to fuck you. I gotta give my baby what she want.” He smugly says to you.

Bakugou pushes your knees apart and, taps his fat dick on your pussy. He enjoys watching the slight jiggle of your fat lips. He sit his dick between your lips, and lets his dick sit snug between the two. He thrust slowly. His tip catching your clit with every upward thrust. He loves watching the contrast of his dick sliding between your brown lips.

After an impatient “Katsuki” he lines his tip up with your hole, and slowly pushes into you. You both can’t stop the low whines from leaving your lips as he stretches your tight spongy walls around him. He looks to make sure he wasn’t hurting you, and almost blows his load right there.

Seeing your mouth agape, and face scrunched up in pressure causes his dick to twitch inside you.

He can’t stop himself from breathing out a “Fuck baby” at the sight of you laid out so pretty. He starts moving at a steady pace. He leaves kisses all over your face, and shoulders. He can’t stop himself from telling you how good you are between kisses. Something about your gummy walls makes his mind go foggy, and his tongue loose.

“You’re doing so good baby.”

“Taking all of me so well.”

“Come on pretty girl give it to me.”

“Can’t believe this pretty pussy is all mine.” The steady pace was amazing while you were getting use to his size again,but now you were getting impatient and wanting more.

Bakugou is caught off guard when you suddenly pulled him down by his neck, and cross your ankles around his waist. You can’t stand the no skin to skin. All you want is to feel the weight of your husband on top of you while he beats your walls in.

You look up at him with glossy eyes, and beg “please Katsuki, i need more”.

And who the hell was he to tell you no. He gives you one last peck before getting up on his elbows, and thrusting into you like it was his only purpose in life. Your squeals plus the sloppy sound your cunt starts making, makes his mind go hazy. All he can think about is getting you to cum on his cock then stuffing you full of his cum.

You reach between your bodies to give your clit the attention she’s throbbing for. The added sensation makes you squeeze even tighter around him. It’s too much for you both. Bakugou can’t even hold himself up anymore causing him to lay his full body on you,and starts humping into wet soft heat. He subconsciously starts sucking and licking on your neck like a fucking virgin that’s having their first kiss.

You can’t stop your sobs. It’s all too much, and not enough at the same time. You feel so full, yet you want to suck him in deeper. His tip rubbing against your cervix isn’t enough. You want him inside it, smearing his cum against each area of it.

“Katsuki, fuck!” you wail.

“Daddy please!”

“It’s okay baby you can take.” He coos at you.

“No I can’t, it’s too much!”

“Come on baby take it for me.” He pulls you into a sloppy kiss. When you pull apart he says

“Come on mama, fuck! Just be a good girl and take it so I can give you all my cum. That’s what you want right.”

You get out a little ‘mhm’ between sobs.

You feel your climax on the tip of your tongue. He can tell you need a little something more. Bakugou reaches his hand up, and rolls your nipple between his fingers before giving it a pinch.

Your climax hits you like a wave, and drags Bakugou down with you. He continues thrusting making sure he covers all your walls with his cum.

You two lay there holding each other after coming down from your highs. You run your nails through his hair while waiting for your heartbeats to go back to normal. After a few minutes you decide to break the silence.

“You know, nothing could make me stop loving you.” Bakugou feels an intense swell of emotion in his chest. He tries to hide his red cheeks, and teary eyes by burying his face between your breast.

“Fuck how’d I get so lucky?”

[strwberri-milk]

Hello, I read your ask are open

Can I request Rafayel, Zayne and Sylus reacting to mc getting into a car accident and broke her leg.

I just got into an accident and fractured my leg, and it got me thinking how the LADS boys will react

me too bestie /jk it wasnt a car accident and i broke my ankle lol this is aptly timed bc. im currently partially bedbound bc of it LMAO

Rafayel will not leave the hospital. If you're not at a hospital that will allow him to stay overnight then he's going to get you moved to one where he can, and see if he can get you into a better room as well so you can rest in the hospital well. He's also not going to let you eat the hospital food because he thinks you deserve far better, going out to get you takeout or whatever it is you want to eat.

If you thought he was annoying before he's even worse now. He doesn't really leave you alone, constantly fretting at you. He hates the sight of your cast only because he's upset at the mere thought of you being in pain. He doesn't leave you alone because he'd hate for you to need something and then him not be there for you. You're always within earshot of him post discharge and he doesn't really let you go anywhere without him hovering nearby. He'd blame himself if you got hurt trying to do something without him so he tries to make it so you don't need for anything.

Zayne is amazing to have to recover from surgery because he's also looking at you to make sure you recover well. If you get sent to the hospital he works at he'll come visit as soon as you're able to take visitors and he's able to step out. If you've got more questions he's also great at either answering them directly or going to get you answers.

When you get home if you feel funny or have questions about meds he's more than happy to assess as well, helping keep your nerves down if you've got some anxieties about being discharged. He'll also make sure to keep your medications on track and help you towards your full recovery.

Sylus is also going to put you either in a better hospital, or see if he can get you home to his own personal medbay because of course he has one. He also studies up a little more on your injury if he isn't already familiar enough with it so he can help streamline recovery as well. He keeps an eye on you and visits often before you're discharged, unable to do nights due to the nature of his work. However, that doesn't mean you can't reach him and if you'd like all you need to do is call him and he'll pick up or call back as soon as he can to keep you company.

He's going to carry you. Everywhere. He works out enough to make that feasible and if he can't, he'll just get to a point to where he can. He also does have a high tech wheelchair for you to use as well. He wants you to have a bit more mobility without him but he also does have Mephisto trailing you to make sure don't need him.

[acourtofchaos]

YOU CAN HOLD MY HAND IF NO ONE'S HOME | Sirius Black x F!Reader

Summary: When you aren't as good at hiding your relationship as you both think you are. [Fluff. 3.6K]

Warnings: Hidden relationship, very soft sirius, a little suggestive, typical mischief from the other boys

A/N: This is a re-write of a fic I wrote years ago for a character I no longer write for and I thought it'd be cute to turn it into a Marauders fic instead of getting rid of it :)

You woke to warmth.

To streaks of golden morning light that spilled from the windows and left glowing lines across bare legs that were hopelessly tangled with anothers.

There were soft puffs of breath stirring your hair at the crown and the faint smell of smoke and spice tickling your nose with every slow inhale you took in sync with the rising chest you found yourself buried against.

Your face pressed so deeply into the column of his throat that your lashes brushed the skin there when your eyes finally fluttered open.

And yet he tried to pull you even closer when you yawned and pressed your hands to his stomach in an attempt to shuffle yourself back, strong arms winding tight around your waist and the soft scrape of barely-there stubble over your forehead as he dipped his chin and planted a lazy kiss there.

“Don’t go yet.” He rasped, voice low, sleep-thick. "Want to hold you a bit longer before you go rushing off.”

You melted a little at that, your own apologetic kiss laid to the hollow of his throat before you pulled back to meet his sleep-warmed gaze.

Fingers stroking through the mess of his hair like you could soothe away the discontent that grew in both of you when you thought about having to leave his arms, his flat, pretending all the while that you hadn’t created a home for yourself in both.

Because that’s how things were between you and Sirius - how they had to be when this thing between you was a secret kept from the other three most important parts of your lives.

You’d decided together that they couldn’t know yet - Remus, Peter and James.

It was just still so new.

There would be too much pressure.

James and Remus were protective to an almost alarming fault and Peter would probably have a quiet panic attack over the possibility everything could go wrong. The boy who despised even the slightest arguments amongst his friends, fretting himself into an early grave at the thought of being forced to choose a side should it all fall apart.

It made sense to keep things between them until things felt more solid, less fragile than this sweet, tender thing you both held in your hands right now.

There was just times, this moment being one of them, where you wanted nothing more than to say fuck it and let them find out if it meant you could stay in Sirius’ arms that little bit longer.

And he was clearly thinking the same.

For when you stretched and tried to roll to the side, he followed. Catching the hand that had been reaching for your phone before luring it back and pressing it into the mattress whilst he rose above you.

“Where do you think you’re going, love?” He grinned, a little drunk with pride when you shivered lightly before throwing him a rather adorably unconvincing glare.

“We’re supposed to be meeting the others for breakfast and I still need to go home and change.” You huffed lightly, arching a challenging brow when he made no move to let you go. “Unless you want them asking why I’m in the same clothes I wore to the pub last night.”

Your words made his eyes spark, his voice turning silken as he leaned down, lips purposely avoiding your own and trailing tantalisingly slow over the line of your jaw.

“And if they did? What would you tell them, hmm?” He taunted, murmuring. “Would you make up some flimsy excuse like you did last night - let them keep thinking that you're so innocent and sweet, that you don't lie about headaches just so I can get you home and devour you sooner.”

“Are you forgetting we all grew up together?” You laughed breathlessly, loud in the otherwise silence of the room before it caught in your throat as Sirius nipped at your ear. “They already know I’m hardly what you call innocent.”

“Not like I do.”

You groaned when his teeth found your shoulder as he pulled at the collar of your t-shirt, sinking down until you arched like a bow against him before sweeping his tongue across the newly made mark.

You were clinging to him now, fingers buried into the warm skin of his ribs and every thought about getting up and leaving began to drift away like smoke in the wind when he raised his chin, smile sinful, teasing, to watch you as he rolled his hips into yours.

“Jesus, Sirius.” You breathed, an unbidden plea, and he sank down into you to kiss you then. All slow, soft heat as he indulged you, arms caging you in, gentle hands cupping your cheeks.

It made your blood catch light and your heart ache, your head dizzy with each brush of his tongue against yours whilst your skin grew warm and tingly from his body pressed flush against you - the sunlight that poured over you both when the sheets slipped away as you wove your legs around his waist.

A quiet moan slipped from you when he sucked at the pillow of your bottom lip and there was almost another as he drew back to look at you - all darkened eyes, ruffled hair and kiss-bruised lips.

“You make the prettiest sounds I’ve ever heard.” He whispered, voice a little awed whilst his thumb scraped over the arc of your cheekbone.

You grinned, something sweet and golden blooming beneath your ribs that made you glow from the inside, the air feeling warmer as you turned your head to mouth a tender kiss to his wrist. “Yeah?”

“Mhm.” He murmured, dropping his head to nudge his nose against yours when your gaze was back on him once again. “Everything about you is so ridiculously pretty, you’re killing me expecting me to just let you leave when you look like that.”

His hand found the edge of your shirt, fingers toying with a hole in the worn fabric before they slipped under to splay across the smooth skin of your belly, his thumb stroking small circles that dipped teasingly beneath the waistband of your underwear.

He watched as your breath hitched, as you shifted beneath him like you were trying to to push further into the press of his hand and then he suddenly leaned back. Eyes twinkling and lips parted before they quirked into a smug grin.

“Speaking of which - isn’t this my shirt?”

Shit.

You'd hoped he wouldn't realise that you'd snatched up one of his when redressing last night. Choosing to forgo your own that was nestled among a few other things of yours in the draw he'd cleared out for you.

There was something about being wrapped up in a shirt that smelled like him, that you swore still managed to hold the heat from his skin despite however long had passed since he wore it.

It felt like safety and comfort.

It felt more like home than any of the dozen places you had given such a title to over the years. And you craved it.

You thought Sirius understood. That he saw it in your face and the flash of nerves in your eyes that stealing his clothes was a step too far too soon, because even when you shrugged, when you tried your best to sound casual and lie that you couldn't find your own, his smile only got wider. Sweeter.

There was a new warmth in his eyes as he tugged at the hem again.

"Yeah?" He asked, grinning brighter than any star in the sky. "Well fuck, gorgeous, maybe I should start hiding all your clothes if it means getting to see you in mine. Looks so much better on you."

A bubble of laughter rose from your chest - bright and airy with relief and something impossibly tender for the boy above you. You wanted to draw him down, kiss him until you were both breathless and drunk from it and feel him press so deeply into you that it would be impossible to tell where one you ended and the other began.

You would have done it if it wasn’t for the sharp ring of a message alert sounding from your phone, the shrill of it puncturing the sticky-sweet haze you’d both slipped into making you flinch.

There was a pout on Sirius’ lips when you nudged at him, your hand a firm and constant obstacle when he still tried to chase your mouth with his own before giving up and falling back into the sheets with a dramatic huff. Hiding his smile with mock offence at the sound of your chuckle.

You bit your lip as you raised yourself up on your elbows and looked at him.

The lazy way he draped himself back, all smooth, tattoo-littered skin against black cotton sheets, grey sweats slung low on his hips and his hair wild from where your fingers had tangled desperately within it. He caught you staring and his lips spread into another shit-eating grin, his tone full of taunt when he winked at you. “You gonna get that or just keep staring at me like you want to fu–”

He spluttered when the pillow crashed into his face, choked laughter erupting from his throat whilst you huffed and rolled your eyes before snatching the phone from the bedside table.

And then they went wide.

Panic flooding through your gut as you attempted to fling yourself to your feet only to get your foot caught in the sheets, flail, and nearly end up in a heap on the floor.

You caught yourself at the last minute, a hand thrown to the wall when you stumbled before searching the room for your jeans.

“James and Remus are on their way here. Right now.” You told a confused looking Sirius, whose gaze swiftly changed from concerned to a disappointed understanding, his body frozen right where he’d frantically risen, arms open and outstretched to catch you if you had fallen. “They asked if I’m nearly at the cafe because they’re on their way but stopping to pick you up first?”

“Shit, yeah, I completely forgot.” He muttered, passing a weary hand over his face before he slipped from the bed after you and in search of a shirt for himself. “They offered because my bike is still in the garage.”

You nodded absentmindedly, eyes still darting along the floor before you spied your jeans partially hidden beneath Sirius’ clothes from the night before, all pooled together from where you’d tumbled into his room, mouths desperate on the others and hands a little too greedy to feel skin to take notice or even care where the things you were wearing landed.

He snorted at the way you lunged for them, the little cry of aha! when you lifted them triumphantly before bending to shove your legs inside them. “I’m just gonna have to go like this.” You huffed and Sirius had to bite down a wild groan when you straightened.

Between your sleep-roughened hair and kiss-swollen lips, the tight jeans and his shirt that, when the collar shifted ever so slightly, showed a brief glimpse of the pretty marks he’d left on your skin. He wasn’t sure how he was going to make it through this breakfast with his sanity intact. “...let's just hope they don’t recognise the shirt.”

He swallowed hard, shook his head in a daze both in an attempt to reassure you and to rid himself of the feverish need that was rapidly bleeding through his veins once more. “They won’t, it’s not one I ever wore that much.”

And yeah, maybe that was a lie.

But he didn’t want to mention that it had once been one of his favourites and have you decide that wearing it wasn’t worth the risk.

Not when the sight of you in it had something akin to possessive wonder coiling in his chest every time he looked at you, infusing his bones and making his heart swell with it. Racing to an impossible rhythm, a delirious beat of mine, mine, mine.

There was another chirp from your phone and you quickly glanced at it whilst Sirius distractedly rummaged through his drawers, cursing as you located your shoes and yanked them on before reaching for him. “I have to go.” You rushed out, fingers curling around the nape of his neck to drag him into a too brief kiss, his lips only just beginning to part over yours when you pulled back and tried to dash towards his bedroom door.

Only, before you could take another step his hand found itself wrapped around your wrist and then he was tugging sharply, reeling you back into his arms so his mouth could descend upon yours once again - hot and messy. More than a little starved for the taste of you.

And despite yourself you melted, humming happily before you felt him smile against you and the corners of your lips tugged up into one to match. “Sirius, I’ve got to go.”

You laughed when his hand curled around your hip to pull you closer. His voice muffled but no less cheeky when he countered. “Just getting it out of my system before I have to endure the torture of being surrounded by our friends whilst pretending that I don’t want to bend you over the nearest surface and fuck you whilst you're wearing my shirt.”

Your thighs clenched together at that, cheeks warming as you imagined it. Without meaning to your fingers tightened their grip in his hair, the hand that had rested over his heart curling until your nails bit into his skin and you had to catch yourself as your hips subconsciously rocked against him.

It made him grin like a devil, even more so when you swore, his eyes gleaming with heat, mischief when you flexed your hand straight and pushed yourself away from him.

He let you go without a fight to finally pull his shirt on and chuckled, low and rough, when your narrowed eyes tracked over the tempting fit of it before flicking back to his. “You’re an absolute menace, Black”

“Only for you, doll.”

You snorted at that and turned, still grinning like an idiot when you swung his door open before you screamed in shock. Your hand flying to your chest to cover the place where your heart slammed frantic against your ribs.

Sirius was by your side in an instant, his body surging past yours in a blur to place you behind him, expression hard and dangerous before it morphed into stunned surprise. His brow furrowing and mouth dropping open.

Because at his breakfast table sat James and Peter. Both of them never looking more delighted with themselves than they did in that moment with laughter in their eyes and bright ‘gotcha’ smiles spread wide across their handsome faces.

Remus was busying himself with pulling groceries out of a bag but you caught the way he glanced between both yours and Sirius’ disbelieving expressions before hiding his face, grin soft and his shoulders shaking.

There was a moment of silence where all of you just stared at each other and then both you and Sirius spoke at the same time.

“What the hell is going on?”

“Did you seriously just let yourselves into my flat and sit waiting for us to come out?”

It was James that answered.

Like he’d been bursting with impatience for one of you to ask just so he could, his fingers tapping impatiently against the solid wood of the table before he pointed to you.

“What’s going on is that you’ve been lying to us and now you’ve been caught red handed.” He smirked, entirely too amused by the way you couldn’t even hide your guilty expression before he turned to Sirius and shrugged. “And you gave us each a key.”

Sirius scoffed at that, snarking. “Yeah, for emergencies, Prongs, not to be cr–”

“So you don’t want coffee then.” Remus interrupted mildy, lifting one of the steaming cups from beside him without looking up from where he was setting things up for your apparent breakfast. A spread of pastries and fruits, jams, fresh bread, bacon and eggs and sausages all lined up for him to cook whilst you slowly processed what you had just walked out to.

And just like that Sirius lost some of his guarded edge. He still watched them all and then you with calculating eyes, assessing the situation, looking for hints of discomfort before he softened completely and trudged forward to take the drink, then a second, from Remus whilst you sank into the chair besides Peter.

You expected it to feel awkward but it wasn’t.

There was no anger or accusation from the boys, only curiosity and something soft like joy when they observed the way Sirius drew immediately back to you, one hand placing your drink in front of you and the other resting gently at the back of your neck to let you know he was there.

They hadn’t done this with any other intent but to let you know that everything was fine. That you didn’t have to worry about things changing or them thinking any different of either of you because they would always be happy with whatever you decided as long as it was what made you happy.

And with that knowledge you fully relaxed, easing back into Sirius’ touch. You took a deep breath and inhaled the smell of the coffee, the bacon that hissed and smoked when Remus placed it in the pan and after a large gulp of your drink you turned to the curly haired boy across from you and nudged his leg with your toe. Smiling when his lips quirked and he nudged you back.

“Go on then.” You sighed with a grin, “Where did we mess up - what gave us away?”

James laughed, his features boyish and light with it. “Take a wild guess.” He joked and when you didn’t answer, blinking at him in confusion, he looked at you for a beat, then two, and then at his friend on the other side of the table, shaking his head with amusement. “I told you it looked like they hadn’t even realised what they’d done.”

You glanced at Sirius who looked just as clueless as you, racking your brain for such a memory and coming up with nothing.

“You kissed right in front of us.” Peter finally explained with a quiet chuckle. “Well, it was at the bar - which we had a pretty good view of.”

It hit you then. A little soft and fuzzy around the edges but you could remember Sirius’ hand resting on your hip, the way he'd tucked you tighter against him to avoid getting jostled at the busy bar and it had been second nature. A reflex almost.

You had looked up at him with a sweet smile and the moment you had tilted your chin he hadn’t even thought to deny you, pressing a warm kiss to your lips and then another to your forehead that had made your heart flutter.

You opened your mouth and then shut it again, pressed your palm to your lips to smother the laughter that bubbled up - bright and delirious.

You had both thought you had been so subtle only to discover you couldn’t have been more hopeless at hiding your relationship if you had tried. There was a twinkle in Sirius’ eyes when you turned again to find him watching you, an undisguisable fondness when you reached out and gently punched his arm.

“This is your fault.” You accused, teasing. “You kissed me.”

“And you didn’t stop me.” He winked, far too pleased at the fact to even consider defending his lack of restraint when it came to you.

Before you could argue there was a snort from the other side of you and you twisted to catch James rolling his eyes, an indulgent grin on his face even as he complained. All faux wretchedness and almost enough drama to rival Sirius. “Good god, I don’t think I can handle you both suddenly being this lovey dovey. I think I preferred being in the dark about this.”

It made you laugh when Peter responded before you were able, an immediate quip that had the brunette blushing wildly when he mentioned how he’d rather see this than what he used to innocently walk into in the dorms whenever James had Lily over.

There was warmth in your chest - a champagne fizz type of happiness - when it turned into a competition of swapping embarrasing stories and the room filled with bickering voices and radiant bursts of laughter, when Sirius drew his chair closer and tugged you into his side, fingers drawing lovely, sweeping patterns on your shoulder whilst his voice joined the chaos.

You beamed at Remus, who appeared at your side to place a plate of food in front of you, a little mix of everything that you liked that immediately had your stomach growling.

He returned your smile immediately, eyes crinkling with affection when you thanked him, before he ruffled your hair like he had ever since he had taken you under his wing the first time you met so many years ago.

Forever the protective older brother that somehow turned into a scolding mother the second Sirius dared to reach over with the intent of snatching a piece of bacon off your plate.

There was a flash of metal, a string of colourful curses from your boyfriend when the handle of the fork Remus had been about to pass you rapped across the knuckles of the offending hand.

“Hands off, Pads, you bloody animal. Didn’t you ever learn manners, jesus."

“Me? What about you? You break into my house, hijack my kitchen, and then try to nearly crack a bone over a slice of bacon. Where are your fucking manners, Moony?”

You zoned out the bickering in favour of tearing a chunk of still warm pastry and popping it in your mouth, startled when James’ foot gently kicked yours beneath the table.

His eyes were bright and full of mischief behind his glasses when you frowned at him and you nearly choked when he pointed the coffee-foam covered end of his wooden stirrer at your chest.

"So considering you were still trying to keep it a secret before we surprised you, how did you plan on explaining the shirt?” He crowed. “Because I could swear Pads has one just like it.”

[bloodlinesgirly]

Make up sex- Roman Reigns

18+ warnings: Cursing, unprotected sex, toxicity?, makeup sex, pnv, cunnilingus, no caps intended, pet names, daddy kink, slight breeding kink

A/N: it’s been so long i’m sorry, i haven’t had much interest in writing lately but im trying to get back into it!! sorry for any mistakes

word count:1240

“i’m not dealing with this right now” you roll your eyes, the scoff you let out just fueling him even more.

“yeah keep that shit up.” he steps were heavy as he paced the room. “ion know if you think you’re slick, but you’re not.” the pacing stopped and he scratched at his beard like he always did when he was mad.

“you won’t even tell me what i did roman.”

“you know damn well what you did. posted up like that on socials thinkin’ i wouldn’t see it” you groan as you think back on what he’s talking about. A picture he took of you on your trip last month. the floral pattern of the dress hugged your curves and dragged in the sand at your feet. the slit up to your hip was displayed as you posed. “that’s really what you’re all fucked up about? a picture?”

“did you really think it wouldn’t bother me?” his laugh was bitter. he took a few steps closer to you, frustration radiating off of him.

“considering you prance around half naked on tv every week, no i didn’t think a dress would bother you.” roman wasn’t the type to be insecure, he knew you were his and how you dressed/what you posted wasn’t his concern. it’s seeing the way people talked that had him pent up.

“it ain’t the dress.” he ran his hand over his face. “you knew what them comments would look like before you even posted it.”

“oh whatever” you roll your eyes.

It takes time for Roman to be sorry, but when he’s ready boy is it perfect.

“m’sorry baby, i should’ve just said something.” roman’s tongue lapped at your neck, trailing down your chest. His hands squeezed at your waist, ass, thighs, and pretty much everywhere else he could get them. he lives for how perfectly you fit against him, like you were made for him to touch.

“was that so hard?” you sigh, your fingers twirl in his hair as you savor his touch. Roman didn’t like to apologize, he never has. a quiet moan leaves your lips when he reaches your breast. quickly he pulls the cup of your bra down, swirling his tongue around your nipple.

“yeah, but it ain’t your fault you're pretty.” he placed a kiss on your cheek before moving to your lips. the kiss was messy, one hand making its way to your throat and applying a little pressure. his tongue invaded your mouth, clashing with your own. there was something pornagraphic about the way his saliva dripped down your chin and the string of it that connected your lips when he pulled away. his eyes burnt into your skin, lighting a fire in the path of his gaze. “go lay down for me, let me apologize the right way.” his eyes flickered towards the couch. without another word, you did what you were told. your thighs clenched together, looking for relief from the dull throb between them. Roman’s shirt was discarded as he stepped towards you. his abs flexed with each movement, you could feel the heat pooling in your belly from just the sight of him. He leaned down to place another sloppy kiss to your lips before dropping to his knees in front of you.

his fingers delicately find their place in the waist of your pants sending shivers through you. you lift your hips to help him get them down to your ankles. “spread those legs for me baby.” roman’s head dipped down to your waist, placing open mouth kisses to your lower belly. The wet spot on your panties was on full display as he ran his thumb over your clit. he wrapped his hand around your ankle, lifting it off the floor, leaving you spread open in front of him. “roman please” your hips stutter against his thumb, causing the pressure to increase. “please what mama?” he smirked against your inner thigh.

“you’re supposed to be apologizing, not teasing.” you glare down at him and he removes your panties, the breeze making you shiver. his tongue laps at your clit softly before he begins making out with your pussy. moving back and forth between your clit and your hole. “so good for me baby” he groans against you. you rock your hips against his face softly, moans escaping your lips. “more?” his eyes flick up to you. “mhmm- fuck roman”

his middle and ring fingers enter you with ease, stretching you open just how you liked it. “make me cum daddy” you moan and wrap his hair around your fingers. you can hear his growls muffled by the squelching of your wetness around his hand. you can feel yourself tightening around him, he sounds starved, like he’s never had anything better. with a few more flicks of his tongue you cum. he groans at the feel of your hands tugging at his hair combined with your juices dripping down his chin.

“you see what you do to me.” he says as he leans back on his heels. his abs are coated in a thin layer of sweat and his dick his fighting against the fabric of his pants. “y’know what to do baby c’mere” he tugs at your ankle a bit, signaling you to come down to him. you make your way to the floor, fingers immediately finding the button to his jeans and freeing his length. “take it how you want” his head lulls back when you take him into your hands.

you position yourself above him and rub his tip against your pussy. his precum adds to the slick already there. his hands find your waist as his eyes are glued to your actions below. “sshit” he speaks through his teeth as you sink down on him. “all the way baby you can take it” he groans. you place your feet on either side of him and slowly bounce your hips up and down. his grip on your waist tightens as he tries to guide you. “need you daddy” you whine as you rock yourself faster. you wrap your hands around his neck, bringing him closer to you. he adjusts his position allowing himself to thrust into you from below. his pace was fast but thoughtful, making sure he hit that spot that made you coat his cock every time.

“fuckkk roman” your hands searched for anywhere on his they could touch. you craved to be closer than you already were. his pace never let up as he kissed your lips. it was messy but fitting, your teeth clashed and your tongues fought. you could taste yourself on him. “gonna make me cum in this pussy” he growled against your lips. “you want me to fill you up baby?”

“yess- daddy please” your voice was broken and frantic. roman’s thrust got deeper, harder as he felt himself getting close. “fuck fuck fuck, yeah mama” he groans and rocks your hips to meet his thrust. you feel your insides warm up as his cum fills your pussy. you stay still for a moment, feeling it overflow and drip down him. he pulls out and watches it drip down your thighs. “such a pretty pussy baby” he groans, dragging a finger through your slit. “m’sorry for yelling mama” he places a hand on your cheek and pulls you against him. “you apologized just fine” you giggle and settle yourself into his embrace.

[seaborgium-dazies]

call me baby ♡ mdni

how mha boys praise you praise kink, established relationship, f!reader, dirty talk (puppy, princess, good girl), p in v, oral f!receiving 🌊: deku, bakugo, shoto, kirishima

deku:

I think it goes without saying that deku loves calling you puppy. He sprinkles a mix of darling, love and dear into his daily use of pet names as well. 'Puppy' is something very private to him; something meant just for him and you; something that lays both of you completely bare. And we all know how rambly deku gets when he's nervous or excited, you can bet your ass it's even more amplified when he's horny.

When deku came home after evening patrol completely spent you could practically feel the exhaustion dripping off of him and pooling on the floor around him. You hated seeing him like this and you knew you had to help him somehow. It didn't take long until you were on top of him bouncing and grinding to your hearts content. You made quick work of deku and soon enough he was trying his hardest to hold onto what was left of his sanity. "Puppy, you feel s'good" he slurs as your hips rock against his. He could barely keep his green eyes open and yet he couldn't stop praising you. "You're so so good to me puppy, taking me so well, ahh~". Even when his mind was wiped blank the love he held for you was so prominent that his tongue was doing somersaults, carefully stringing words of praise together "You're doing so good for me puppy. You feel haaah~ amazing. Keep going puppy, puppy-". His rambling came to a halt only as his muscles spasmed and his head fell back in a silent cry. But he was quick to pick up again after he came back to his senses, telling you how good you feel and how much he loves you <3

bakugo:

Bakugo may seem like a person who doesn't praise at all but in reality he's a sucker for it. In the beginning it would really require some emotional work from him though because admitting how much he cares for you and how important you are to him is incredibly hard for him. It's something he struggles with but after he gets used to being vulnerable with you he can't stop praising you. Especially when you're having sensual sex the words effortlessly fall from his lips.

You were going at it for what felt like hours and yet it was only your second round. Bakugos cock was pistoning in and out of you with speed that left you unable to speak. Your whines and moans fell like oil into the fire that is Katsuki Bakugos ego. "Yeah? You like that?" Katsuki asks breathlessly. Your reply made entirely of moans only earns a cocky chuckle. "You're taking me so well baby, just like that, yeah". He hungrily stares at the space where you two are connected, eager to get more moans out of you he starts circling your clit. "Just like that baby, just let loose for me princess". You couldn't help but throw your head back as he settled on the perfect pace. You couldn't help but wonder if someone had given him an instruction manual on how to make you cum with the way that he's working your buttons. "Eyes on me pretty princess" he says as he gently guides your face back "That's a good girl". And with one more flick of your clit your orgasm washes over you, bakugos voice still echoing through your head.

shoto:

At first shoto was very new to dirty talk but after you tried it out on him and he enjoyed it a lot he decided he wanted to be able to make you feel that way too. His gentle and kind nature translates to this aspect as well and and his dirty talk is very literal.

It took shoto mere seconds to figure out that something was bothering you. Although you tried to hide it as to not alarm or bother him, you weren't too surprised that he had you pegged so quickly. Shoto coaxed your troubles out of you, and as he heard that you couldn't help but feel undesirable and unattractive his brows furrowed. Luckily he knew exactly how to convince you of the opposite. His tongue was lapping at your folds and obscene slurping sounds filled the air. "Your pretty pussy tastes so good, mmmm". The vibration of shotos groan made you moan. He pulled away with a dopey smile and spoke with a voice so sweet it was practically dripping honey. "Look at you all splayed out for me, I've never seen anything more beautiful, you take my breath away baby". And just like that, as if he didn't just bring tears to your eyes with his words he ducked down and sucked on your clit like there was no tomorrow.

kirishima:

Kirishima is already kissing the ground you walk on in everyday life so it's no surprise that he's showering you with praise in the bedroom as well. Really it'd be a surprise if someone were to date him and NOT develop a praise kink. He maneuvers his way around words like a champion, alternating between sickly sweet and downright nasty.

Kirishima considered it a miracle that the two of you had a day off work that actually lined up. He didn't remember the last time that had happened. He was up and dripping with sweat from his morning run as you were still sound asleep. A quick shower later he stepped out of the fogged up room to hear you humming in the kitchen. He saw you making yourself a cup of coffee, leaning against the kitchen counter in nothing but panties and an oversized shirt. He took a good thirty seconds to just watch your ass gently bounce as you were bobbing your head to the song from the radio, almost salivating at the way your flesh spilled out of your panties. You heard a soft "Baby you're killing me" from the hallway. You just had to chuckle when you saw kirishima, palming his boner. The effect you had on him was truly undeniable. You curled your finger, beckoning him to come and kirishima was on you in an instant. His tongue was working miracles on your neck and every time he stopped to breathe, he leaned in close and whispered something sinfully sweet into your ear. As if your mind wasn't hazy enough as you heard him "Such a good girl for me, so perfect". Your knees were about to give out as kirishima scooped you up in his arms and carried you to your bed. You couldn't deny that he was your demise as well as your salvation.

all characters aged up

©️ seaborgium-dazies 2025

[oncasette]

frat!lads

sylus, zayne, rafayel, xavier, & caleb x fem!reader

the love and deepspace men as frat guys in a college!au at linkon U + how you met them

content: fr*ternity boys, alcohol consumption, all apart of the same frat (lambda delta sigma—LDS), smoking/vaping for some of the guys. thank you to @nashusglasses for yapping about the boys with me 😘

SYLUS QIN, majoring in business, minoring in international communications

frat!sylus doesn't leave his room during parties after you start dating, whether you're up there with him or not. He'll attend brotherhood events, but it's a hard sell to get him to go to swaps, date parties, or weekend functions unless you're the one asking him to go.

frat!sylus definitely smokes when he's drunk. He's not a regular smoker, and he wouldn't be one to vape or zyn either, but he'll keep a pack of cigs in his back pocket at a function.

frat!sylus becomes pledge master the year that luke and kieran go through recruitment, and definitely plays favorites. He'll let the twins go to your apartment to sleep during hell week, he's more lenient on them when there's group pledge tasks, and he ends up being their big brother when big/little takes place. They start up calling you mom before the week's up.

frat!sylus sleeps through most of his classes. Or, most of the day, really. It's a wonder he was passing with his abysmal attendance, but you couldn't say you weren't proud of him when you saw that he made the Dean's list every semester.

frat!sylus still teases you for ignoring him for a while after you two met.

You met Sylus at one of his frat's parties. You were a little too tipsy to foster intelligent thoughts and the music was far too loud to hold any genuine conversation. The most you could get out to your friends over the thumping bass was your desire to get another drink from the kitchen and to take a trip to the bathroom on your way there. The line was, unsurprisingly, far too long and bleeding out into the hallway, leaving you to grumble and slouch against the wall as you waited your turn.

Sylus practically came out of nowhere, leaning up against the wall beside you and offering to take the empty solo cup from your hand.

"You alright, there?" he asks. He's seen you around a couple of times. In passing, mostly, around campus or at his frat's events, but this was the first time he'd gotten the chance to speak to you.

"Yeah, just, waiting on the bathroom," you huff, and Sylus has to bite down on the laugh that's creeping up his throat. You were cute, dangerously so, even hazy eyed and little wobbly.

"I'd be happy to let you use mine if you want to skip the line," he says. The look you shoot his way has him raising his hands up in defense, waving away all notions of foul play with your crushed cup still in his grasp. "I'll stand outside my room and keep guard."

You nod, thinking better of it as you lean into his guiding hand and allow him to lead you upstairs.

You nearly forget about him until about a month later when LDS throws a darty that you attend, Sylus immediately spotting you in the crowd and managing to get the phone number he'd sorely missed the last time you'd spoken.

ZAYNE LI, majoring in biology, minoring in chemistry, pre-med track

frat!zayne is the reason LDS doesn't get put on academic probation most semesters. His GPA never falls from it's pristine 4.0, even with the fraternity's functions and all the time he spends with you. It's how he got stuck with the director of academics position.

frat!zayne refused to do the sock on the door policy because he felt like it was crude. He didn't have a roommate in the house like he had in the dorm, so he didn't know why anyone needed to know when he was having private moments with you. That was until one of the brothers busted the door through the lock at eleven o'clock because they wanted to borrow his britta filter. Then he started using the sock, despite how red his ears would flush the next day when he left for class and had to pass the other boys living on his hall.

frat!zayne brings you all the trinkets he can find from people tabling in the quad. You've gotten plenty of stickers, candy grams, roses, and cookies. You even got a rubber duck once.

frat!zayne won't attend a swap unless it's with your sorority. When he'd been a pledge, he'd been forced to attend every event and stick around until the lights came on at the bar, but now that he's with you, he'll only go to the events you're attending or can tag along with him to.

frat!zayne gets asked all the time by your sorority sisters when he's going to propose. After all, the first time he'd locked eyes with you had been at a tacky wedding themed swap.

Your friends had been nudging you all night to go and talk to him. Your eyes had barely left him, looking at the cute guy at the corner of the bar in the powder blue suit over your friends' shoulders.

"Go! Please! You're killing me with this eye tag thing," Tara squeals as she shoves you towards the guy. Your heels are planted into the sticky flooring, but she's doing a damned good job of inching you closer to him. Before she had the chance to topple you over completely, you relented.

"Fine, fine, I'm going! But I'm not promising anything," you huff. Your body warms under his gaze as you approach. He sees nervous as he glances around the bar, anxiously checking to see if there's anyone around him that you'd be coming up to, now, though he can no longer deny it when you stop right in front of him.

"Hi," he says, cheeks flushed and ears bitten pink and you just about fall out right there. How cute could he get?

RAFAYEL QI, majoring in fine arts, minoring in marine science

frat!rafayel is the heart of most of the parties LDS throws. He's usually on aux unless they've hired a DJ or a live band, and he takes his job seriously. He never misses a function, but he has an arm thrown over your shoulder more often than not.

frat!rafayel has a recipe for jungle juice that gets put out at darties. He won't tell anyone else how to make it and claims it's made with "lots of love".

frat!rafayel carries a miami mint vape around with him, but he rarely hits it. Unless he's drinking, then it doesn't leave his hand.

frat!rafayel uses "anything but a cup" night to get you to wear one of those beer hats people wear to baseball games so he can spend the rest of the night draped over your back—like he'd be anywhere else, anyway, this just gives him a viable excuse—and drinking out of your hat.

frat!rafayel begs you to take another art elective with him. He claims they're all boring without you, and that you give him the inspiration he needs when he's locked in the art department's concrete walls.

You met Rafayel in an intro art course your sophomore year. It was about halfway through the semester when you accidentally dumped your paint water down the front of his shirt on the way to the sink. Class had already ended, meaning Rafayel had taken off his apron and had nearly finished cleaning up when you stumbled over.

He didn't mind, really, despite the whines and complaints on his end. He was all easy smiles and comforting words was he realized how bad you felt for your little mishap, peeling off his outer layer like it wasn't a big deal and leaving your mouth to water over his newly exposed biceps.

"Look, would it make you feel better if I let you make it up to me?" he asks. He ties the damp shirt around the arm strap of his backpack as he asks.

You nod, sputting out a helpless little yes.

"Alright," he smirks, just a bit at the corner of his lips. "How about you let me take you out for lunch, then?"

"Wha- when?" you ask. You're more than taken aback at his request, having expected for him to make you buy him a new shirt or a new set of paints.

"Now, if that works for you," he says. Now works great for you.

XAVIER SHEN, majoring in astrophysics

frat!xavier doesn't really talk to anyone at any of the functions unless you're there. He'll still attend, but more often than not, he's secluded off in the corner scrolling on his phone or watching whatever the bar's put on the TV.

frat!xavier smuggled a second twin XL into his room to make a mega bed. No one knows where he found it or how he got it in without any help. It's the comfiest thing either of you have ever laid on, and it takes about seven alarms and twenty-five kisses to coax him out of it in the morning for class

frat!xavier always has you on his lap when you're at the house for a game. Whenever any of your school's sports teams plays an away game, the brothers will line up four or five couches in the party room and move the biggest TV—sylus'—in, and Xavier takes the opportunity to keep you locked in his grasp for the next couple of hours.

frat!xavier is a favorite for so many of the girls that go to LDS. They think he's just the sweetest guy ever, but he barely even talks to most of them. He'll nod politely for a couple minutes before wandering off. He gets ribbed pretty bad for it later.

frat!xavier uses you as his reminder to study. You always drag him to the library with you on Sundays, and despite his hangovers, he uses the time to get ahead on his class work for next week.

You met Xavier in the library your freshman year. He'd holed himself up in the corner of the fourth floor, promptly falling asleep face first on his textbook. When he'd gotten there, there had been plenty of tables open, but as the day had gone on, more and more people had filed in to find a quiet place to study for finals. When you got there, all of the tables and chairs were full other than a single one at his table.

You work up the courage to tap him on the shoulder after awkwardly going back and forth about it behind him for ten minutes.

"Excuse me?" you ask softly, ducking your head down so as to not disturb the other people near you. He doesn't respond. You tap him gently again. That seems to snag his attention.

"Hm?" His eyes struggle to open, and you feel something flutter in your chest as you watch him wipe the corner of his mouth and sit up.

"Do you mind if I sit with you? The rest of the floor is full," you say softly as you gesture to the free chair beside him. He shakes his head softly and kicks the chair out a bit for you to sit beside him.

Xavier doesn't end up leaving the library until you do. Three and a half hours later.

CALEB XI, majoring in aerospace studies

frat!caleb catches shit from some of his brothers for hanging onto his high school girlfriend. He doesn't care, he'd drop them in a second if it meant keeping you. He never lets any of them rib you, or make any comments that toe the line of mean more than funny. You're his priority, and his brothers know that.

frat!caleb is the president of LDS and is always either sending out massive group messages to the frat or is on the phone trying to handle something. It's like he's trying to manage 87 different tasks at once, on top of his school work, but he handles it well.

frat!caleb only drinks beer and will make a sword out of the empty cans to fight his brothers with if he's drunk enough. but the bar really isn't even that low, get like three in him and he's ready to joust.

frat!caleb has a sex playlist that he thinks is so good until you tell him how goofy you think it is while you're drunk. It takes three weeks of silent nights, forgetting just how quiet you have to be with the music off so his brothers won't hear you, before you're begging him to put it back on. With alterations, of course. There's nothing sexy about doses and mimosas.

frat!caleb only lives in house because he's on exec. If he had it his way, the two of you would already be living in a cute little townhouse off campus, but with the rules in place, you practically live in house, too.

When you both had announced your college decisions, everyone had accused you of following your boyfriend off to school. They'd done anything and everything to try and talk you out of it, but you'd stood your ground. If anything, Caleb had been the one to follow you off to school, and you weren't going to be the one to stop him.

Caleb had bitched and moaned the whole month leading up to move in because they wouldn't let the two of you dorm together, but seeing as you were living on the same hall in the only contemporary dorm on campus, it really wouldn't have made much a difference.

You were attached at the hip, for better or worse, all throughout grade school. He doesn't see why college should be any different.

[neeeooon]

Hey Elle!!! 😚🫶May I request bllk boys (Nagi, Rin, Sae, Bachira, Shidou) with s/o who's rlly into anime, cosplay, spends all their money on figurines, merch etc and makes them go to conventions with them!!! 🤸🏼‍♀️ love your writing!

yesssss LMAO okay i had fun w thiss thank you sm for the request!!! 💛💛

when you’re an anime fan ;

bf bllk x gn!reader

nagi seishiro

-> he doesn’t like the fact that he has to share you with your dozens and dozens of anime plushies

-> “nagi! you’re crushing mr. sakamoto!!” “what’s that?” “?! please move so he can breathe :)” he decides not to fight you on this. “.. okay.”

-> though nagi doesn’t quite understand your obsession with spending money on little figures and plushies of cartoon characters, he works around it. it’s easier to spend a little time looking for a clear spot than upset you after moving something he wasn’t supposed to

-> until he comes over one day to find a large snorlax plush in his usually empty spot on your bed

-> “.. is this your way of telling me to move?” “what? no, it’s for you! your room is like a prison cell, babe. you need something to make it more personal. plus, he looks just like you!”

-> nagi doesn’t see it, but he sleeps with that damn snorlax plush every night he spends away from you <3

itoshi rin

-> “y/n? put the phone down…” “just one click, rin. one click and it’s all mine.” “y/n, so you really need twenty-six figures of the same four characters..?” “yes.” “really?” “… maybe?”

-> he manages to convince you to give him the phone so you don’t spend your entire paycheck on anime merchandise

-> he’ll stay up late watching the shows with you, and he actually follows along with and likes quite a bit of them. not enough to blow his entire paycheck, but enough

-> “i think we should be meruem and komugi from hxh for halloween.” “… but don’t they d—“ “DONT FINISH THAT SENTENCE.”

-> once you promise to stop crippling your bank account, he agrees to dress up with you <3

itoshi sae

-> bro is not impressed

-> he can’t even pretend to enjoy himself as you drag him around the merch store, grumbling about how ugly and expensive everything is

-> you ignore him and fill your little basket with mangas and posters for your room, but when it comes down to it, sae hands over his card at checkout before you have the chance

-> “?? i thought you said everything here is ugly and expensive?” “oh, it is. i don’t want you spending your money on ugly things, y/n.” you smile at his excuse and kiss his cheek

-> he’s not ecstatic at the cost of everything, but sae doesn’t complain about it to you, either. he even helps you hand your posters at home (those, he does insult)

-> “why does that guy have such big ears?” “be nice to geto!! those are his earrings.” “he looks like a weirdo.” “leave him be 😭”

bachira meguru

-> you better believe he’s feeding your addiction

-> “ooh, y/n, look at this one!! do you have this one?” “i’ve been looking everywhere for that character! how did you find it?” “my monster told me to check the back shelf..”

-> keeps a full, detailed list of every anime you mention starting or liking so he can surprise you with merch

-> “y/n, look! i made a hakura sakura keychain for you!!” “you made it?! i love it!! but what’s the occasion..?” “i just felt like making something for you ☺️” you may have teared up a bit

shidou ryusei

-> you were planning to cosplay one of your favorite anime characters, and the costume was going on sale at a convention. thankfully, shidou didn’t fight when you asked him to join you

-> “so, we’re gonna stand in this line for how long again?” “depends on how quickly they wave us through. could be a few hours.” “… let’s fucking do this.”

-> shidou has to body a few people, and you do get escorted out by security, but you get the costume! so you consider the trip a win

-> “you didn’t have to punch that guy for me,” you hum as you dab at your boyfriend’s scabbing knuckles. “he was going to push you out of the way. you wanted it more than he did, and he shouldn’t put hands on someone for a dress.” “you did, though..” “for you. not the costume… it is a cool costume, though.” “i know, right?!”

-> you post photos and videos of yourself all dressed up online, making sure to tag shidou for helping you complete your look <3

[nosyrobin]

Lucky Artistic Charm

——————————

Yandere!Batboys Highschool AU

Prologue | I.Riding Pays | II. The Gray Side | III. Nerdy Tactics

Previous on…Yandere!Batboys

Next class is Art, ah yes the peacefulness of creating the art inside of your mind and into the world. You smiled a genuine smile as you went to the 2nd floor of the school and into the class.

Sitting down, you let out a fresh breath of air.

Nothing can go wron—

"Hello, [last name]."

And it can.

When you turned to your left, there sat the worse of them all.

Damian Wayne.

Present time. Time: 10:30 am. Date: Wednesday , 7th, 20XX.

“What are you doing in my art class?!” You exclaimed at the tanned boy who sat with a smug smirk. “I changed my classes. I would’ve thought you would be scared to come back. But my calculations seemed to prove me wrong.”

Tired of this shit, you get up only to be grabbed with a tight grip. His hand around your wrist, you winced as his green eyes glared you down.

You thought that maybe because you were taller than him, you could just pull your wrist from this little shit. But no, his grip got tighter as you felt like your wrist was about to break.

“Sit down. You don’t wanna cause a scene in class [lastname].” He said lowly with a scowl. You scoffed, stopping your restraining and sitting down. Damian lets go of your wrist, letting you look at the cruel redness around your wrist.

Glaring at him whilst rubbing the sore wrist of you now, Damian pulls out a green sage notebook. The notebook had dots of paint stains. You grumbled under your breath. “Fuckin' asshole.” You pulled out your own notebook that held your own sketches.

As time goes on, surprisingly Damian doesn’t talk to you. He only glances at you, helping you a bit with the model of what the teacher put up o the board. You had trouble keeping the dragon wings big, you looked to your right to see Damian already coloring the damned thing in his sketchbook.

You held back a scoff, you hated that Damian was better in art. He wasn’t even into art when he was little. You showed your mom a simple butterfly picture…. The memory still burns in your head.

“Mommy! Mommy!” You ran to your mother, her blurry face looks at you as she kneels to your height. “Yes sweetie?” “Look what I made!!”

You jumped excitedly as you showed her what you drew. It was a water paint of a blue butterfly you saw in the garden. You were playing with the Wayne brothers before that amazing butterfly came into your view. Making you want to keep it in your mind.

Your mother tilted her head, her cheeks lifting up symbolizing a smile written onto her face. “Oh sweetie, it’s so beautiful…” she takes the paper from you and hangs it on the fridge. “This deserves to be on the fridge!” Your little eyes light up. You felt happy, feeling proud. You didn’t notice the other boys coming in. Dick had grass all over his body due to him doing cart wheels and flips all over the grass.

Dick smiles and points to the butterfly, “Oooh pretty!”

Jason nods as he holds your hand along with Tim. “That looks cool [nickname].” Tim nods as he can’t help but squeeze your hand. “I agree! Love the details.”

“Where’s the antennas. It looks ugly.” Damian blurts out which made his brother’s look at him shock. Your eyes widen, you looked at the butterfly to see that it indeed didn’t have any antennas.

You ran off crying after that, Dick smacked Damian upside his head to which the small boy glared at his older brother.

“That wasn’t nice Damian.” Dick scolds as Tim and Jason also glared at the small boy.

“I was only being critical and telling the truth.”

You never waterpainted after that.

You stopped spacing out when you felt a sharp pinch to your side. You hissed as you jolted from the hand that pinched you to look at the culprit.

Damian pulls his hand back, crossing them onto the table. “Are you coming to the manor?” He asks, as if he didn’t just pinch your skin off.

“Why?”

“Because, father and pennyworth haven’t seen you in a while and wanted to know if you are well.” Damian answers as if that was the was whole answer itself to your confusion.

“…No.” You turned away from him and went back to finishing the class sketch. Moving your hand around as you finished the wing detail. But when you looked at the head, you noticed how there weren’t any antennas.. you added some, letting a soft smile reach your face.

“Why not. Why won’t you come, we’ve been awaiting for your arrival to show your disgraceful face and this is how you deny my offer?” Damian grits his teeth, jaw clenched as you turn back to glare at him. Guess the demon is now showing his horns.

“How about you shut the fuck up and leave me alone. You’re such a little shit and have been yapping my ear off to me for way too long. Someone outta slap the shit out of you.” You retorted, clenching your hand that held the pencil and your jaw.

Damian’s face went red, his face puffed up as he looked like he may explode. Your eyes widen before you even register this. “Uh-oh—” your hair got pulled hard, making you fall off your chair as Damian held a tight grip onto you. “Get off me you little shit!” You swept your leg and knocked him down. He lets outs a small “oof”. The clatter of chairs and kids gasping shock made the teacher turn back to see you ontop of Damian and Damian below you pulling your hair more.

“Mx. [lastname]!!? Mr. Wayne?!” The teacher pulls you both off each other. Your face having a small red mark, the same to Damian who smirked. Waving a clump of your hair to which you touched your head with wide eyes.

“Office. NOW!”

Well at least you can get suspended probably, away from these people…….

You sat by Damian who held his hands in his lap. You kick your feet back and forth, you glanced at Damian who looked calm.. too calm. You sighed and turned to him.

“Damian.. I’m sorry for cursing at you..and calling you a little shit.” You said softly, fiddling with your fingers as Damian looked at you. You couldn’t even tell if his eyes softened or hardened. His face is so neutral it’s scary.

“It’s fine. I shouldn’t have tried to force you to come to the manor…it’s just..”

Your eyes widen to see a teary eyed Damian, rubbing his eyes with the sleeve of the academy’s uniform.

“You’ve been gone so long.. i was scared that you wouldn’t come and..” hiccups erupt from his chest as your eyes soften. Your heart ached as you hugged Damian into your side. “Don’t cry dames.. I’m sorry okay? I’ll come to the manor, and maybe we can draw and yknow play games?”

Damian nods as he rubs his eyes even more, making them puffy. You sigh seeing he finished crying and now was snugged up against you. His small frame holding your arm as he looks at your fingers…..

Damian couldn’t help but smile, his head facing down as the principal can already seen that you two had made up.

Oh how stupid you are, you didn’t know you’ve fallen into a trap of wolves.

Taglist: @roryroro @elect1z @lil-isha @no-bishes @darkfaethedestroyer @nightblanc @cxcilla @winter-world @cim0nnin @yl90 @enjisthings @gwyneveire @ashleeytrx @nightwinglover101 @exactlynumberonekryptonite @caffeinatedvigilantewriter @red-phantom-0 @iriseros00 @zenyyyluvyuu @xen-blank @obsessedwithromance @loafersrs @devils-blackrose @not-herexo @nyxisdark @chiarasworldd @apelepikozume @bookwarm0-0 @daffy-the-duck @holyfishbailiffpeanut @kaylp-godly @cheriecelestial @helloitsmeeeeeee @khalinda-ev @vodkaredbullsblog @another-one-writer @tenswife @that-creepy-girl-000 @childofman12 @1jieka @d1nne @alishii @tsuniio @melvin333 @lillian-morningstar @gentlemonstersworld @skullyz1 @eosfung @hearts4mica @sukaretto-n @mxvoid26

[rafeysbangs]

°🂶 ༘˚↷rafe is always just out of reach

warnings ; not proofread sorta... , simply just angst, sortof almost a mention of fwb? ish?, interpret this how you will as to yours & rafe's relationship !

notes ; HI !! i'm so happy to be back. srry this is straight up angst. but i hope you enjoy. can you tell uni is strangling me lol ( this was actually sitting in the drafts.. waiting... oops )

rafe cameron is an enigma you can’t quite solve. a puzzle with missing pieces, a shoreline that recedes every time you step forward. you think you have him—hands grasping the edge of something real—only for him to slip through like sand through parted fingers.

you watch him from the passenger seat, the engine humming beneath the weight of silence. his knuckles are tight against the steering wheel, pale from pressure. he’s always holding on too hard, to everything, to nothing. a boy who doesn’t know how to let go without breaking something in the process.

"you’re quiet," you say, just to fill the space. to remind him you’re still here.

his jaw flexes, a brief movement, barely anything at all. then a chuckle, low and humourless. "that’s a first."

it’s a dance, this thing between you—if you can even call it that. he keeps his distance, but it’s not apathy. it’s something else. something tangled up in the way his hands tighten around whatever’s in his grasp, the way his gaze lingers just a second too long when he thinks you won’t notice.

you do notice. you always do.

you see it now, in the way he shifts gears with more force than necessary. in the way his hands tremble when he runs them through his hair. in the way he looks at you, like he wants to say something but won’t, like it’s locked behind his teeth, rusted shut with years of unsaid things.

and you—what are you to him? a distraction? a reminder? a tether to something softer, something he doesn’t think he deserves?

"you don’t have to do that," you say, softer this time.

he glances at you, brow furrowed. "do what?"

"pretend like you don’t care."

his lips part, but no words come out. just a sharp inhale, a slow exhale. and then he laughs again—quieter, this time. almost bitter.

"maybe i don’t."

but he does. you know he does. it’s in the way he says your name, in the way he always finds you first in a crowded room, in the way his fingers brush against yours but never stay long enough. it’s in the way he pulls away just before he gets too close, like he’s afraid of what might happen if he doesn’t.

rafe cameron is a hurricane dressed as a boy. all storm and sharp edges, all lightning that never quite touches the ground. people talk about him like he’s reckless, like he’s all impulse and violence, but you know better. you see what they don’t—the hesitation, the flicker of something softer just beneath the surface. you see the way he clenches his jaw when he’s trying not to feel. the way he swallows words before they can make it past his lips. the way his hands shake when he thinks no one’s looking.

he is not empty, not hollow like he wants the world to believe. he is full of things he will never say, full of rage and grief and longing. full of a love he will never let himself hold.

and you—maybe you are just another thing he cannot let himself have.

you could reach for him, could close the space between you, could press your palm against the warmth of his arm and wait for him to lean in instead of pull away. but you already know how this ends.

he’ll let you get close. close enough to feel the heat of him, close enough to believe that maybe, just maybe, this time will be different.

and then he’ll slip away—just like always.

( no taglist bcs its wayyy to old um i'll be redoing that too so look out for a post - sorry guys ! )

[a-hermit-pining]

LADS Men React To Thinking You're Moving Out

AN: Thank you for requesting and yes I did just use an unrelated gif of absolutely stunning Aragorn.

Request: Hello, I absolutely loved your last post!! It was so fun to read, lol. I went through your master list right after and I also read the one about you moving in with the lads men (gold.) Which make me think of a scenario... If you take requests now, what do you think the lads men would do if: You just moved in with them. Everything is fine, but unpacking is kinda slow because both of you need to work. One day you are off from work and decide that day is the day everything will be put in place because it's already suffocating to have that many boxes. He is at work from morning till evening and so happy to come back home to *you*. Just that when he entered the apartament he saw a box next to the door with your clothes in and you packing yet another box with your clothes. But shouldn't you be unpacking? Are you packing your things back?? (Mc just got a better look at everything she owns since she needs to unpack everything and decided to donate some stuff. She had no intention of moving out)

Pairing: Lads boys x fem reader

Genre: fluff

Xavier:

He walks in, probably tripping over the box. Somehow, completely oblivious.

"Xavier!" You rush to him, helping him sit up. "Are you alright?! Oh my god, did you hit your face?"

You both are trouble magnets.

"It’s bruising!" You gasp, already hurrying to grab an ice pack while he sits on the couch, face buried in a cushion.

Please, just sit with him and coddle him until he recharges enough to help you unpack.

Rafayel:

"Where are you going?" Instant tantrum mode. Hands on hips, standing like someone’s disapproving dad.

"I told you, moving in was an irreversible deal. We share the lease. You’re not going anywhere."

Picking up your box of clothes, he strides into your shared bedroom, where you’re busy unpacking his boxes, blissfully unaware, your back to him.

He sighs, pauses, and keeps talking to your back. "Alright, I won’t let the seagulls eat all our salmon. And… there won’t be any more running nude painting jokes..."

"What?" You pull out an earbud, blinking in confusion. "When did you come in?"

Rafayel stares.

"Aw, thanks for bringing in my box! I was just about to get to my closet," you grin, pecking his lips. "When did you get back?"

Let’s just say, Rafayel does not recount the great monologue you just happened to miss.

Zayne:

Conceal, don’t feel kind of guy.

He stands and stares at the box.

Then, without a word, he steps forward and pulls you into a tight hug. He’ll stay there for as long as you allow him to.

"You’re back early," you murmur, leaning into him as he buries his face in your shoulder.

This is normal, him being extra clingy after a long shift.

"What’s the matter?" You turn, wrapping your arms around his waist.

"Did something upset you?"

"No," he replies, looking up at you. "I missed you. Let’s go out for dinner tonight."

He’ll go out of his way to make these last few hours with you memorable.

The next day, when he returns home from work, expecting an empty house, the sight of you curled up on the couch is nothing short of pure joy.

He heads to your room, only to find all your clothes neatly hung next to his.

Sylus:

"Have you finally decided to accept the vacation?" he all but purrs, conveniently ignoring the lack of a suitcase.

"Those are for donation, Sylus. And no, I am not taking time off for another vacation." You reply, tossing some of his clothes into the donation pile.

"Um. No, you’re not." He plucks a dress from the pile, inspecting it like it’s a priceless artifact. "I like this one on you. And this too," he mutters, rummaging through your does-not-spark-joy pile.

"No, we are not keeping it!" You snatch the clothes back. "You are banned from the pile. Hands off."

Somehow, he is more offended about giving away clothes than he is concerned about the idea of you leaving.

He considers everything you own part of his hoard.

Caleb:

Hides the box.

Immediately rushes to the kitchen to cook a feast.

Pulls you to a fully loaded dining table, all smiles.

"So, what are your plans tomorrow?" he asks, piling food onto your plate.

"Mmm, I think I’ll be joining the hunters’ food and clothing drive in the morning. Let me know if you want to give away—"

And he's gone.

Sweating, watching you devour the food.

Oh. Oh, no.

He did not just accidentally drug you.

You’re going to be so mad at him. Especially for making you miss the drive.

Excusing himself immediately, he goes to cancel the flight to his private island.

Caleb is now on damage control duty.

[dark-night-hero]

"Hey isn't that-?" "Shhh!" "What? What! Isn't that Mich-!" "You think I don't know? Just keep your voice down if you don't want to get kicked out." "W-what?" "The owner of the Cafe." The girl utter as her eyes trail on the figure in a kitcken apron now emerging out of the kitchen with a tray of freshly baked dessert in it, carefully putting it on the display stand. "And Michael Kaiser" The girl now looking at Michael Kaiser who finally looked up from his phone and is now looking at the owner with intense yet gentle gaze. "Were lovers." "No shit."

"Sorry, did you wait too long?" You asked as you went out of Cafe back door, now dressed in a casual attire as you finally manage to close the Cafe after a long day of work and baking. You did not hear your lover reply causing you to look up and there he was looking at you. "Let's go." He spoke nonchalantly but did not forgot to reach out a hand for you to take in which you did not dare not take. Wrapping one hand into his arm, with the other reaching out for his hand as you cuddle close to him. "Are you cold?" "No." He replied softly.

Imagine walking in the midst of the buzzing city of Berlin, the two of you walk hand in hand. Already on your way at home to get some rest when the two of you happened to come across an old alley. "This bring back memories." You chuckle, eyes glancing over the alley. "Hey remember when we were children, no one was really with me at home so I got into baking. Then I happened to bring some with me in my room and forgot it was pipping hot I have no choice but to put it on the window and went back into the kitchen and by the time I come back for it, it was missing."

Imagine the way Kaiser hummed, his blue eyes glancing over the alley. "So? What happened to it?" "To that tart?" You pause like you thought for a moment before smilling sheepishly. "I don't know, I thought it was just a rat. Turns out the theft was a very cute boy." You chuckle. "To be honest at first I was mad but then I have come into conclusion that maybe my tart was just that good he couldn't help but to stole it." "Quite a narcissistic claim." Kaiser spoke with a small smile that was hidden by the shadow of the night, keeping you close to him.

"Oh! I'm sure he loved it. I always left a piece by my window whenever I make an extra piece and its always gone by the sec I look away." He just humm in return. "I always try to get a glimpse of him but its annoying how I never got to see him until I got sick one day." You smile at the memory and cuddle more into him, heck if only you could stuff your self into his arms you would. "Are you cold?" He asked. "No, I just want to be close to you." You smile at him. "You know, I really thought I was gonna die back then. I have no one around me and I was getting delirious because of the fever." Then you pause, earning a look from him and to stand on your toes for a kiss. "Thank you."

"Well my baker is going through something, I don't wanna loose them over a goddamn fever." "But I heard later on you got in trouble with the nearby pharmacy." "Is that why you started handing over a bigger portion of the pastry?" "..." "Is that also the reason why you had given me that letter?" "Idunnowhatyouaretalkingabout." He just humm in return, a smirk tugging his lips as the two of you finally reach the building where his penthouse was, something that was once within out of reach.

Imagine in the midst of the peaceful dinner, "if I had known you were coming home early I would have gone grocery shopping. Do you know how shocked I was to see you sitting in there earlier? I thought I was hallucinating." "Why would you even hallucinate? Did you started missing me so bad you started to make up an imaginary version of me? For someone who told me they wouldn't miss me even if I was gone for a whole year, you're quite the clown." "The real clown is you in that neo ego-" You were cut off with a spoonful of meal as he glare at you causing you to burst into laughter. "Oh my goodness Michael, you're still not over it?"

Imagine it was late at night but there you are, baking for some dessert which is now laidnto rest in the oven as you sat by the kitchen counter, legs dangling as you humm into a familiar tone. "Is it still not done?" "It'll be done 5 minutes." You did not turn around, not when you can hear his footsteps approaching you. "Miss me already?" You smile as you pull him in embrace, wrapping your legs around his waist. "Hah- you wish." "What a shame, I was baking your favourite along with tarts. I guess I'll just have to give-" You were cut of with a kiss. "You wouldn't dare." "Try me, Michael."

"Hey Michael, do you still have the letter I give you?" "..." "Do you still have it?" "No." "You hesitated." "No." "You still have it." "No." "Michaellll." "Let's go to sleep." "But-" "Good night Schatz." "..." "Goodnight Michael. Ich liebe dich." "Ich liebe dich auch, süße träume, mein Schatz."

Dear stranger,

Let's fill these days with the kind of joy and desserts we'll remember forever. Let's make this a great childhood memory, one we'll cherish for years to come.

I'll make more desserts in the future so feel free to drop by anytime. Thank for the last time. Also, can you tell me your name next time?

From your friendly baker neighbour.

[ⓒdark-night-hero] 2025°

: You see, I'm trying to learn german.

: Also, this imagine is dedicated to @yumiko0987 , thank you for the prompt ideas and I'm really sorry this one took so long 🙏

[suzukiblu]

welp I remain INCREDIBLY weak to positive reinforcement, haha, so day two of “Kon meets pink kryptonite and decides to fuck Tim and his boyfriend about it” behind the cut. (( chrono || non-chrono ))

Tim takes the obvious opportunity that Bernard chattering and Kon being a little bit dumbstruck gives him–because like, of fucking course he does, he’s a Bat–and offers Kon the caramel-dipped waffle quarter again, and Kon, like . . . okay, well fucking obviously he’s gonna eat it, Bernard made the damn caramel from scratch and Tim is offering it to him. Like, there is not a world in which he does not eat that. 

He takes a bite, mostly distracted by what Bernard’s going on about with whipped cream and hand mixers and whatever and idly having some related kinky thoughts because, like, in his defense, whipped cream, and then forgets completely about what Bernard’s going on about with . . . whatever Bernard’s going on about. 

“Oh my god what did you put in this,” Kon blurts, half-covering his mouth with a hand before he accidentally spits out any waffle crumbs and staring at Bernard for a moment. Like, the waffle is warm and basically the perfect mix between outside crunch and inside fluff, but also it tastes like–what the fuck is in this, seriously, is there sex pollen in this or something? 

“Oh, it’s actually basically my banana bread recipe, so . . . banana? Like a significant amount of banana, and then some sour cream, and a little cinnamon, brown sugar, and vanilla,” Bernard ticks off, gesturing with a waffle chunk of his own before spooning some whipped cream onto it, because Bernard apparently just made . . . everything on this breakfast tray from scratch, okay. Like . . . yeah. Okay then. “And also there’s some chocolate chips and chopped pecans in there, because like, literally what is not better with chocolate, seriously. Admittedly I don’t actually know how good it is with peaches, haven’t tried that one before, but I figure at least the caramel should be good.” 

Kon stares blankly at the dude and resists the instinctive marriage proposal currently warring with his natural “kept boy” instincts, then takes another bite of waffle when Tim offers it. It keeps tasting, like, fucking delicious, and also now he can break down “fucking delicious” in a little bit more detail than, like . . . just “fucking delicious”, basically. 

. . . will Ma kill him if he asks another cook for their waffle recipe? Is that a thing he might have to worry about? 

. . . . . . could be worth it, honestly. And she might let him live if he shares. 

“Do you, like, cook a lot, or . . . ?” he asks, half-trailing off when Tim feeds him more fucking deliciousness, which is in his defense pretty distracting. Like–Jesus, how did Bernard get an alleged banana bread recipe to make waffles this fluffy? Like, what fucking witchcraft was involved in that one? 

“Constantly and all the time and nowhere near as much as I wanna, so honestly the excuse to make an extra sauce was kinda nice, not gonna lie, it’s very relaxing,” Bernard replies frankly, stacking up some banana slices on his waffle chunk and then making himself a little waffle sandwich to stuff into his mouth effectively whole. The little waffle sandwich is weirdly adorable. Like, to the degree Kon would probably find it adorable even if he weren’t high on pink kryptonite right now, but like, maybe that’s the banana bread waffles’ fault. “Well, actually caramel is low-key the devil because you cannot ever take your eyes off it ever without it burning to shit and ruining your godsdamn pot, but it’s not like I didn’t have time to baby it so it’s whatever. Why, do you cook?” 

“Um . . . naw, just I help, um . . . well, there’s, like–I help bake, a little?” Kon replies hesitantly. Which, like, is mostly just him fetching shit and kneading stuff for Ma so her arthritis doesn’t act up as a dumb little excuse to, like, hang around the kitchen and living room area when she and Pa are talking, sometimes, but . . . technically it counts, he guesses? Like, technically? 

Bernard perks up, like–instantly, and to a really surprising amount, which is a little weird, and Kon isn’t sure what that’s about. 

“Oh, so the most evil culinary art then, wow,” Bernard says, sounding impressed. Which is definitely not what he is actually is, unless Kon has somehow given him a very incorrect impression of his baking skills, but still feels a little flustering to hear in relation to, like, something besides being good in bed. Like, just given the nature of this particular long weekend and all. 

“Uh–what?” Kon asks, trying to figure out what Bernard’s actually talking about here, and Bernard starts making himself another little banana/whipped cream waffle sandwich with an easy little shrug. 

“You know, like how the first rule of cooking is have fun and be yourself and the first rule of baking is stay calm because the dough can smell fear, is what I mean,” he replies reasonably. 

“I mean it’s not that hard, honestly, I can kinda like, just feel when it’s baked enough without having to check, so . . .” Kon shrugs himself, feeling a little awkward about it. Like–it’s kinda cheaty, honestly. “Or like, proofed or whatever.” 

“I hate you, come work at the restaurant I’m gonna open when I’m thirty-two, you can make all our bread in-house,” Bernard says very feelingly, and Kon forgets the awkward feeling to start snickering, because this dude is ridiculous, and still funny as fuck on top of that. 

“I literally just help out, man,” he says. “I am at best the actual baker’s errand boy.” 

“You just told me you can feel when the bread’s risen enough, you bastard, I am gonna press-gang you into this restaurant if I have to,” Bernard retorts huffily, then pauses, looks speculative, and asks: “Does that work on souffle, actually?” 

“I mean, I guess it would?” Kon replies with a frown, tilting his head a little. “Never tried, but–” 

“Hey Tim, I’m press-ganging your boy onto the line, good news, you won’t have to deal with me ranting about how much I hate my pastry chef every morning over coffee when we’re thirty-two,” Bernard informs Tim casually, and Tim’s mouth quirks in amusement and Kon just laughs helplessly again. 

“Oh my god, Bernard, I am the last person you wanna get to make pastry, much less restaurant pastry,” he says, still laughing. 

“I don’t know, your presentation skills would be pretty good, I’d think,” Tim says reasonably, which totally derails Kon’s cracking up. “You’re pretty artistic when you want to be. And definitely creative, and good with your hands on top of that.” 

Kon feels briefly startled–like, startled enough to not even make a sex joke about the “good with your hands” comment–because he like . . . basically never does anything that’d really count as “artistic”, as far as he’s concerned, and he’s really only “creative” in terms of coming up with creative new ways to curbstomp bad guys or whatever, not . . . 

He bites the rest of the waffle quarter out of Tim’s hand, mostly to give himself a second to process all the weird things he’s feeling about Tim saying something like that, and then has some more weird feelings when Tim swipes the pad of his thumb across the corner of his mouth to get up a smudge of caramel and then taps it lightly against Kon’s mouth to like . . . invite or offer, maybe, Kon’s not sure which. 

Though like, obviously he licks it clean either way. 

“Ohhhhh, hey, so how delicate does the TTK get?” Bernard asks, his eyes gleaming. 

“Uh–I mean, borderline atomic-level, depending?” Kon replies, a little bewildered still. “But like, that’s kinda an adrenaline-fueled apocalyptic sitch kinda thing, so mostly just . . . I dunno, tweezers? Mini-screwdriver? Somewhere in there?” 

“Okay, so when every single fine dining establishment in Gotham tries to poach you from me, I need you to remember how much you liked my dick when you were gay and pay that favor back by not accepting their disgusting amounts of money and prestige,” Bernard says, and Kon can’t help laughing again, or feeling, like–kind of warm, again. Like, kind of in the horny way, but also kinda . . . not, maybe. 

Seriously, it’s so weird how much hanging out with Bernard feels like getting a crush on a girl he’s just met. Like–very, very much so. Increasingly so, at this point. 

“I dunno, man, unless your fine dining establishment has a pink K chandelier . . .” he counters teasingly, and Bernard looks straight-up delighted by that idea. 

“Ooo, I bet that lighting would be sick, very romantic ambiance for the customer base,” he says with a grin. “What do you think, I could do my supervillain career in Metropolis and then retire to Gotham with all my ill-gotten gains and invest in a chandelier or twelve. You totally wanna get fucked after-hours on my prep counter under flattering rosy lighting, right?” 

“Come on, man, I look good in any lighting,” Kon scoffs, making a show of preening. “Or on any counter, as a matter of fact.” 

“Valid,” Bernard agrees with a sage nod, and Kon feels an irrational level of heat in his face but grins at him again anyway. Like–whatever, it’s the kryptonite; doesn’t mean he can’t enjoy the ride. 

“Yeah, I’m sure the health department would love that, you two,” Tim says wryly, the corner of his mouth ticking up in amusement. 

“Oh my god, Tim, like we wouldn’t clean up after,” Bernard huffs, making a show of rolling his eyes. “Like I don’t know basic food safety standards. But fiiiiine, I’ll put in a special counter just for fucking your boy on when I’m doing the initial remodel, would that make you feel better?” 

“You designing your future professional kitchen with a specific place reserved to have sex with my best friend in it?” Tim asks, tilting his head slightly with a briefly speculative expression. 

“Yes, obviously,” Bernard says. 

“If you made sure the security cameras’d have a good view, I guess,” Tim allows. 

“Why would I need to, look at him, the cameras will be magnetically attracted to him,” Bernard scoffs, and Kon feels sort of–flustered, maybe, and flushed, and kinda–flattered, almost? Just . . . something about that particular sex fantasy is . . . 

Like, it’s just–it's still just a jokey fantasy, yeah, but it's one that sounds like, like . . . like an actual plan would, almost. Like, obviously still just a joke, but . . . he doesn’t know, just a more flattering joke, somehow. Kinda. Also, if he’s really thinking about it . . . well, obviously there’s sex in it, but it’s really less a sex fantasy than it is just, like . . . 

Well. Just . . . a fantasy, he guesses. Like . . . like they’ll all just still know each other in their thirties and know each other well enough to wanna hang out that much and . . . 

Just–yeah. So it’s a little more flattering, kinda. Like, as a fantasy and all. 

It is also making it real fuckin’ hard to concentrate on breakfast, under the circumstances. 

Tim offers him another slice of peach, and Kon bites his lip and glances up at his face again. 

“Rob, man, yours is gonna get cold,” he points out. 

“Really not worried about it,” Tim says, which is sort of hard to argue with, but like . . . 

“But–” Kon starts reflexively, and Tim taps the peach slice against his lower lip. 

“Eat your breakfast like a good boy, and I'll give you something good while I eat mine,” he says, and Kon’s brain fritzes out completely and his gut goes absolutely molten. “Open up.” 

Kon doesn’t even take a moment to actually say anything or even nod, just immediately opens his mouth. 

Tim smiles down at him soft enough to really fry his brain and sets the peach slice on his tongue. There’s some caramel sauce on it, and Kon flashes back to Tim doing the same thing to him with the candy with his own damn come on it and kind of, like, spontaneously combusts or explodes into a supernova or just melts down into caramel himself. 

Tim taps his mouth shut with two fingers under his jaw, and Kon just about fucking swoons over it. 

So–yeah, he is definitely not gonna be arguing about the temperature of anybody’s breakfast right now.