#some of the stuff she says creeps me out too

[heys0ulmate]

veneration (this faith's got me high)

pairing: sofia falcone/gigante x f!reader

summary: sofia isn't the same anymore- but you've waited too long for her to care.

warnings: uhh .. unnegotiated/dubcon, gun usage, slight bondage, passing out, im sure im missing stuff, not proofread, major abuse of italics sorry lmao

word count: 4.6K

A/N: this is the first part of what i PLAN to be a series, tho im not sure when the next part(s) will be out. i legitimately havent published a fic in over a decade so im sorry that its like. poorly structured LOL. not much smut in this one sorry yall. title from holy by zolita btw. also this was posted prematurely by accident cus it was still in my drafts but oh well

〰️

You don't recognize the room you're in, but you feel no danger. All you feel is giddiness and bliss.

There's something warm next to you. Sofia.

Her red, pretty lips are moving, corners curled up slightly, but you can't hear her. You laugh despite the fact, because it feels right. The joy in your chest overwhelming.

She's closer, now. You're laughing hysterically, to the point of tears. It's getting hard to breathe.

Sofia cups your face. She looks scared, but you still can't hear what she's saying. You can't speak- all you can do is laugh and choke for air.

The room changes.

It's crowded.

You spot Sofia from across the galley.

Something in you tells you to run to her, as fast as you can, like you'll die if you don't. It's an all-consuming type of panic, the inability to breathe slowly creeping back.

You push past the crowd, but the more progress you make, the larger the room seems to grow.

The crowd parts, and you see her. She's leaving the room, hand in hand with her father. Her lips are parted in a scream that you still can't hear.

"Sofia!" You shriek, running as fast as you can now that the people have cleared a path.

You're inches away from Sofia and the grip her father has on her when you suddenly hear her voice loud and clear from behind you.

"She's not here anymore."

You bolt up from your bed, gasping for air and flailing under your blanket, desperately trying to wrestle it off.

It takes a minute to gather your bearings.

"Shit," you mutter to yourself, rubbing your eyes.

It shouldn't phase you. You can't remember a single night in the past ten goddamn years that you haven't woken up from a some sort of dream-turned nightmare about Sofia. But something about this one seemed to stick to you like summer heat, an uncomfortable, lingering sensation that seems to amplify the harder you try to ignore it.

"She's not here anymore."

It rings through your head like a catchy song as you stumble into the kitchen for a glass of water.

In the ten years since Sofia was taken from you, you haven't heard her voice even once. You weren't allowed visitation as a non-family member, and phone calls were prohibited for the same reason.

It was almost if the sanctions had carried over into your psyche, some form of cruel punishment that prevented you from hearing her even in your dreams.

At least you were able to see her at night.

You'd never grown used to the inevitable, debilitating dread that suffocated you each time you awoke, but you still looked forward to falling asleep each night, knowing it'd grant you a brief illusion of having Sofia by your side again.

"She's not here anymore."

You try not to think to hard about it, to instead appreciate the blessing of being graced with her voice, even if it was just subconscious. You tell yourself it's probably just a result of the weeks recent events; the flooding of Gotham city. The death of Carmine Falcone.

The impact of it all must have rattled you.

That's all.

But... you can't shake the nagging feeling that there was something more.

It's then that your phone rings on your bedside table. *BRRR*

You set your water cup down with a huff, shuffling your feet slowly towards your bedroom. You're in no rush to pick up. Who the fuck call at this time of night; and without warning?

In your experience, this meant one of two things: the call was your basic, run of the mill scam attempt, or a reporter who had found your number and was desperate for some kind of story. Not that you'd ever give them one, of course. Even when Sofia was still around, and your relationship was somewhat in the public eye, you never discussed anything with journalists of any kind.

After Sofia was sent to Arkham, the scrutiny on you had increased. You went from being the occasionally mentioned girlfriend of Carmine Falcone's daughter, to 'the woman who loved The Hangman.'

Generally, the public saw you as a pseudo-victim; someone who had been manipulated by The Hangman, paraded to maintain a false image, and used as a front to keep Sofia's cover. They didn't believe you when you claimed to have been with Sofia on three of the nights that those women were killed. "The poor girl- who knows what that woman subjected her to, to make her lie for her?"

The year following her arrest was the peak of your exposure. You were relentlessly assaulted with press whenever you went outside, and you had to change your cell phone number four times.

Everyone was dying for an inside scoop on what it was like to know The Hangman intimately.

By the second year, you were more comfortable leaving the house. You moved just outside of Gotham, and slowly, the pressure for statements and interviews died down the longer Sofia was away. You still get the occasional phone call, someone hoping that now that it's been 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10 years, maybe you'd be willing to share your 'story.'

You'd hang up immediately every time, until you got to the point where you just stopped picking up.

*BRRRRR*

You approach your bedside table with every intention to hit the reject button, squinting at the brightness of your screen in the dark of your room.

That's when you see the caller ID.

*000*

You pause.

So far, every telemarketer, every scammer, reporter, and journalist, were listed as either Unknown Caller, or a string of numbers.

The only time you received calls with three digit numbers was when it was Alberto.

A part of you hesitates. Alberto does this, sometimes, though it's become more sparse over the years: he goes on a bender, gets too in his feelings, and calls from a nurner phone and leaves you a barrage of voice and text messages. It's always the same, with him going on coked-up rant about how he's going to get Sofia out one day and wrong everyone who wronged her.

Outside of that, though, Alberto never called. When Sofia was sent away, Alberto had begun simultaneously spiraling and attempting to survive and thrive in the Falcone family. Between the drugs and job, Alberto became a lot more isolated than he used to be. Any attempt on your part to reach out wasn't successful. He stopped responding from the number you'd had saved, keeping communication one-sided.

Still, every week, you texted him the same thing at the same time. Sunday, 9AM, an hour before you knew Sofia had visitation hours. Tell Sofia I love her, please.

You'd never get a response, but you never really expected to, either. You had no way of confirming if he was seeing your messages. The only way you knew Alberto still even thought of you or knew your number was with the increasingly infrequent, triple digit ID calls.

Either way, the occasional drug fueled messages always left you feeling even more depressed. Knowing Alberto was suffering just as much as you didn't bring any sort of comfort; it just reminded you of your own pain.

*BRRRRR*

Between the unease from your dream and timing of the call, though, every instinct in your body is telling you to pick up the phone.

Your hands tremble as you clumsily smash the answer button with your thumb, bringing the phone up to your ear.

"Hello?" You wait with baited breath as you hear Alberto on the other side of the line. "...'Berto?" There's nothing but silence for a moment.

Then, you hear him clear his throat. "I, uh-" There's a pause, and a sniff. "I'm gettin' her out, [Y/N]."

You're heart pounds almost painfully. "Y-you mean-"

"Yeah," Alberto confirms with a disbelieving laugh, as if he can't wrap his own head around it. "Yeah," he says again, more firmly this time, confirming everything you've wanted, pleaded, prayed for, for ten years. "She's comin' home."

The news breaks two days later.

Two days of silence from Alberto after he dropped that fucking bomb on you.

You aren't sure if you're in shock, or if it literally hasn't quite hit you yet. Maybe it's because, despite a part of you accepting you'd never see her again, you always had faith in your heart that she'd come back to you. That naive hope kept you alive for ten years.

You aren't sure what to do with yourself, now. You've grown so accustomed to just... existing. Holding hope, with nothing to really do with it. This sort of feels likes that, but with more anticipation knowing what's to come.

Except, it doesn't.

She comes home, yes. You watch the reports about it, read the headlines, hear the outcries. But you don't see her. You don't hear from her, or Alberto, and you're resigned to waiting for one of them to reach out.

After a few days, you grew impatient. The anxiety you'd felt from waiting around had turned into a sort of panic, an all consuming need to make any attempt to quell your nerves.

Why hadn't you heard anything? Had something gone wrong? Did they forget?

You'd gone to the Falcone residence. It was fucking packed with news casters, journalists, rioters and spectators. It had taken you a while to shove your way through the mob, and when you had, you were turned away like everyone else.

You went back the next day, and the next, and the results were the same.

And then, Alberto dies.

You think the shock will return, but all you can think is Sofia, Sofia, Sofia. Your Sofia. Your girl, who must be hurting so tremendously right now, who you can't cradle and comfort.

It seems your deep seeded need to be by Sofia's side reignites some of your more rational thinking, though, and you consider your options.

The crowds of cameras and protesters should disperse by the time the sun goes down, you'd assume, giving you more of a shot to see her.

So, you decide to return to the Falcone's late that evening, when the moon has settled and the stars are at their brightest.

Despite the time, it seems the family is well awake, as all the lights can be seen as you walk up the driveway. You hear voices, though you're too far away to tell if they're shouts from behind the walls, or conversations outside.

Soon, two of the guards notice you approaching. "Hey!" One hollars, hoisting up his gun as he stalks towards you. "What are you doin' here? You got business with Luca?"

You should probably be more concerned about the possibility of being shot by a paranoid guard, but your adrenaline is pumping too hard to care.

"Uh- no, I'm- I don't," you stutter. "I wanna see Sofia."

As the second guard approaches, you hear a soft chuckle. "Ah, yeah, I remember you," he drawls, before turning towards the other man. "Used to hang around Sofia," he explains to him, making the other relax his posture slightly.

"She's not available," the first one grunts, "probably won't be for a while."

Being turned down does little to deter you. "So she's here? Just, not available?" You ask hopefully. They don't get a chance to respond. "That's fine. I can wait."

You make a bold move to squeeze past them, speed walking over to the grand stair case in front of the house with purpose.

Behind you, the guards bicker. You don't hear what they say, outside of something about 'letting Ms. Falcone decide,' but based on the lack of pushback, you assume the one who remembered you was suggesting the other guard leave it be.

You're perfectly content to sit for as long as you need to. You've waited a decade for Sofia; you can wait a few hours- or even until the morning- to finally see her after all this time.

To your surprise, though, you only wait for about 45 minutes.

The front doors of the mansion swing open, and you hear the click of heels stomping down the steps.

"Fuckin' pricks," someone mutters, and you immediately recognize the voice.

Your heart leaps into your throat as you stand on shaky legs, and you can't turn around to face her fast enough. You almost lose you balance in the process, but catch yourself in time for Sofia to notice your presence.

She has a cigarette halfway to her lips as she stares at you, an unreadable expression on her face.

You blink.

She blinks.

"You're..." her voice sounds empty for a moment. Then she shakes her head a little, blinking hard a few times and huffing. "What are you doing here, [Y/N]?"

You open your mouth, but your brain is moving a mile a minute. Nothing comes out, and you just gape at her like a fish for a few moments. "Uhhhh..." you trail off dumbly, but you're too frozen to even feel stupid about it.

Sofia rolls her eyes. "Come on," she says as she resumes her walk past you, lighting up her cigarette as she does. "I'm not staying too far from here at the moment."

You practically trip over yourself in your rush to follow Sofia. It's a bit of a struggle to keep up with her pace, but you manage. The car is parked at the end of the driveway. A burly man is propped against the hood, and he moves around to the back door when he sees Sofia quickly approaching. He opens it for her with a quick acknowledgment as she slides in smoothly, and remains silent as you clumsily follow suit.

Sofia keeps her eyes fixed out the window as the man gets into the drivers seat. You can't help but stare at her, though, something akin to awe making it impossible to look away.

A few minutes into the drive, you see Sofia tentatively shift her eyes towards you. She looks on guard, as though unnerved by your eyes on her.

Still, she says nothing. Her gaze stays trained on the passing scenery for the remainder of the ride, like she's stubbornly making an effort to ignore your blatant staring.

Sofia hardly waits until the car is parked to unbuckle and hastily exist the vehicle once it's pulled in front of her building. You rush to get your door open, jogging a little to catch up to her.

You're paid no mind as Sofia struts inside and walks to the kitchen. It's almost like you're invisible, a silent, unseen witness.

Sofia moves around the kitchen with a practiced ease, retrieving a glass and wine bottle that she pops open, pouring a sizeable amount. She takes a long, long sip, her head tilting back until the contents of her glass are almost completely gone.

Then, she sighs, her shoulders relaxing a bit as she embraces the warmth of the alcohol.

Finally, she looks at you, indifference written all over her face. "You didn't give me an answer earlier," she states simply.

You take a small step forward. "Sofia..." You blink hard, suddenly overwhelmed with emotions.

Sofia is looking at you. You see her. You hear her.

You take another step, and another, until your knees buckle in front of her. "Sofia," it's an almost reverant sound that makes Sofia inhale sharply.

She's so close.

You wrap your arms around her legs as you kneel before her, nuzzling against her thighs.

"Sofia," you say again, just as softly.

You can breathe again. After ten long, dreadful years, you finally feel like the air in your lungs is pure and real.

Sofia freezes. She's unsure of how to process this.

You're here. In front of her- willingly.

It feels wrong; you bowing before her when you have no idea who she is anymore.

"Cut it out," she mutters, lightly pushing your head away and taking a small step back.

You remain on your knees, looking up at her with half lidded eyes.

The adoration in them makes Sofia uncomfortable.

"Get off the floor," Sofia says, her tone indescribable. "You aren't an animal." She turns to top off her wine glass, takes a sip, and leaves the room.

It takes you a minute to gather yourself, but you slowly move towards the direction she headed in. You find her in a room down the hall, an open, office-adjacent space. She's sitting on a loveseat in the center of the room, staring blankly ahead as she sips away.

You pause in the doorway to observe her for a minute, wondering if she's aware that you've followed. You decide to let your presence be known, taking a few confident steps forward.

Sofia doesn't look at you when she speaks.

"Whatever you're here for," she starts, "you won't find."

"No," you find yourself saying. "No, Sofia, I..." you trail off as you come closer. "I... I just want you."

Sofia's jaw clenches. "You don't know what that means anymore," she spits, before taking another sip of her wine, attempting to grow the irrational anger brewing inside her.

There's a certain, panicked heat that comes over you then, feeling unheard and misunderstood. "No, no," you say hastily. "No, Sofia, please," you drop in front of her again. "Please, Sofia. I don't care what that- what that means. All I care about is you."

Sofia scoffs, her temper getting the best of her. She grips your hair without thinking, pulling your head off her lap to look up at her. "You want me to show you what it means?" She hisses, eyes wide and manic. "Okay. Take your clothes off."

You're momentarily stunned, not expecting Sofia's request. "What? Ah-!" Sofia yanks your hair again, gritting her teeth as she speaks. "Take off your fucking clothes," she repeats.

Her tone sends you into motion, and you scramble to remove your top. Sofia settles back against the couch as she watches you undress for her, keeping her features schooled.

Once you're bare, you shift on your knees a bit, unsure of what to do. Being naked in front of Sofia certainly isn't new, but, it's also been ten years since you've last been intimate with her. You never anticipated it happening again like... this. Sofia never acted this way with you in the last. Usually, she undressed you herself, slowly and with kisses on each inch of skin she revealed. She had been teasing, sure, but never so stern.

It stirred something in you that you couldn't place your finger on. All you know is, you certainly aren't complaining.

So, you stay still, not wanting to do anything without instruction lest Sofia decide she's no longer willing to entertain you. You bask in Sofia's predatory gaze, letting her drink in your exposed body.

Soon, though, you start to squrim a bit. It's not cold, per say, but the air was just brisk enough on your bare skin that you couldn't ignore the slight chill.

You shiver a little, and Sofia smirks.

"You cold?" She asks knowingly. Sofia keeps her eyes on you as she reaches for her wine glass, standing as she does.

You tense a little as she begins to stalk closer to you, a small sneer on her face.

She's behind you, now, but you don't dare to move your head, not even when you hear the clink of her wine glass on the ground. Instead, you stay still and complacent as Sofia picks up your discarded shirt and begins to wrap it around your wrists. You moan inadvertently at the feeling of her skin on yours, but Sofia takes a deep breath. She ignores the sound, instead making quick work of restraining your hands behind your back.

When she's done, Sofia picks her glass back up as she towers over you. There's a dark, empty look in her eye that sends a chill down your spine.

Sofia, of course, notices this.

She smirks. "Is that it? You chilly, sweetheart?" Her voice is patronizing and full of faux concern.

You're not sure if she wants an answer or not, but aren't given a chance to respond either way, Sofia suddenly splashing the remenants of the wine from her glass onto you.

You flinch, and gasp loudly at the cold sensation. You're hands instinctively move to rub at eyes in an attempt to clear your vision, but you find yourself tugging fruitlessly at the shirt Sofia had binded your wrists. The wine soaking your face and dampening your hair ends trickles down your body, erupting goosebumps in it's wake.

You're still blinking heavily in an attempt to normalize your seeing when hear a breathy cackle. You feel her pinch your jaw, a strong grip on you as she licks a filthy stripe up your face, lapping up the spilt wine. She releases you, the sound of footsteps echoing through the room as Sofia struts past you and towards the desk by the window. You can't see what she's retrieving, your eyesight blurry and unfocused.

By the time Sofia circles back, you've mostly regainedy your vision. You don't have any time to visually process what she has in her hand, though, as she wastes no time in forcing the barrel of her handgun past your parted, panting lips, and into your mouth.

"It's a terrible feeling. Isn't it?" The gun presses a little harder, and you cringe at the feeling of rough metal pressing against your tongue. "Nothing left to hide behind," Sofia drawls, her voice is surprisingly even, though her words feel weighted.

You blink up at her with an unnerving lack of fear.

Sofia bares on with a tilt of her head. "The guards at Arkham stripped us bare every morning," she states, and your heart clenches at the thought. "It was humiliating," Sofia continues, a subtle anger brewing in her voice with each punctuated annunciation, "being turned into a thing."

Sofia shoves the gun hard enough to make you gag, and presses forward until you're bending backwards. Sofia straddles you, her grip on the gun directing your movements. She has you sprawled on your back, hands twisted painfully under you, pressed between your spine and the hardwood floor.

Sofia lowers her face, her wild eyes inches from yours. "You think," she growls, "that I'm still who you knew?" She smiles, though there's no joy in it. "That I'm not just a thing?"

Apparently, it wasn't a rhetorically question, as Sofia yanks the gun out of your mouth.

You sputter for a second, before rushing to respond, "no," you gasp. "I- I don't expect you to- to be the same, Sofia, I don't." Your voice cracks a bit, and you pray that your eyes convey your earnesty. "I don't care that you- you don't feel like yourself, Sofia, if you feel different, now. I love you. I love you. I love you, Sofia," you insist, your voice soft.

Sofia regards you for a long minute, and you wait with abated breath to see how she'd react.

For a moment, you think she's heard you. Really heard, and believed you- believed in your unconditional love and devotion for her. There's a hopeful, but guarded look in her eye, something akin to a skittish street cat assessing if it should trust the hand reaching out to pet it. But, just as quickly as it appeared, it's gone.

Sofia's features go hard again, and she moves her face away, straightening her back and kneeling over you.

"You don't get it," she says- simply, quietly, almost as if to herself.

You part your lips to protest, but Sofia is quicker, and slaps her hand over your mouth. "Don't," she warns.

Sofia hates it. The way you don't even struggle under her; the way you just take it, like you understand what this means.

Why don't you get it? Do you really not understand what kind of horrors she was exposed to? What they did to her; what they turned her into?

It pisses her off.

How dare you, how dare you, prance back into her life, expecting her to be untouched by the hell that was Arkham?

Do you think she's naive? That she'd truly believe, after all this time, you'd still want her? Want her for who she actually is now?

You don't even fucking know her anymore.

Fuck.

It infuriates her for so many reasons that she refuses to acknowledge right now.

Instead, she let's herself embrace the unbridled rage that's always threatening to erupt inside her.

"Alright!" She exclaims, a Cheshire Cat grin spreading across her face. "You love me?" She taunts. "You think you want me?"

She shoves herself off of you to pull her underwear down her legs. You're heart thuds as she slips off her fur coat and hikes up her dress. Sofia easily drops back down, straddling your face and gripping your hair with one hand. "Show me, then." With that, she lowers herself completely, smothering your face in her cunt.

Your primal instincts kick in, then, and you press forward, your tongue eagerly swiping through her folds.

Jesus fuck, you think somewhere in the back of your mind. Finally, finally, finally.

You hadn't realized how much you craved the taste of Sofia until this very moment. It feels like you're starving, like you haven't eaten in ten goddamn years, and Sofia is the first meal you've been granted.

Your ministrations are messy and desperate. You can hardly think straight, overwhelmed by the taste and scent and feel of Sofia. All you do is lick and suck and moan, embracing the pure bliss you feel. The rapidly decreasing supply of oxygen in your lungs is easy to ignore when you finally have the privilege of pleasuring Sofia again.

Sofia's eyebrows furrow. You won't struggle under her. You won't look up with panicked eyes, even as she deprives you of air, even as she suffocates you.

You don't get it.

Sofia narrows her eyes and her hips buck forward. It's almost violent, the way she fucks your face, riding harder and harder. She grunts softly, losing inhibition as she watches her slickness spread all over your face.

Still, you only whine as though you're the one being pleasured.

Why don't you fucking get it.

Sofia tightens her grip in your hair, pushing your face impossibly closer against her cunt as she feels her climax approaching. She's panting harshly through her noise, controlling the means threatening to spill out of her.

Just then, your eyes slugglishly blink open and lock with hers. It's clear that you're moments away from passing out, and Sofia can only stare down at the dazed look in your eyes.

Still, there's no fear there. There's nothing but adoration.

Your eyes roll back, and your eyelids flutter shut. Sofia's breath hitches as your body goes limp under her.

It's then that she cums, her body tensing and jerking. A ragged moan escapes her as she grinds and grinds against you, using your unconscious body to draw the waves of pleasure out.

Sofia slumps off of you, sitting by your side as she recovers from the exertion. She just sits for a while, until her breathing regulates, and she gathers the courage to look over at you.

You're still passed out, but the slight rise and fall of your chest tells Sofia you are, in fact, alive.

It doesn't do much to relieve Sofia- not when there's a sick, familiar feeling of dread forming in the pit of her stomach.

No.

Sofia squeezes her eyes shut.

This isn't supposed to matter.

This doesn't mean anything.

Sofia stands, and smooths out her dress. She can't afford to have regrets; to have... things that make her question herself.

That's not her anymore.

Sofia takes a deep breath.

She squares her shoulders, and doesn't spare you a second glance as she forces herself to leave the room.

[iminaworldofpureimagination]

tara strong supporting peta is so depressing to know bubbles would be so disappointed with her voice actor give zero fucks if she returns for craigs reboot

[buckyalpine]

Sharon calls you fat (pregnant reader)

I live for the angst where Sharon/people call reader fat and make fun of her not knowing she's pregnant and Bucky protects the ever living fuck out of her because that's his gorgeous babymama. Bonus when Sharon is a jealous hoe. Throw in some protective avengers in there too. Breeding kink? Pregnancy kink? Also yes. He's a feral, horny little shit here, I apologize.

You huffed as you buttoned your jeans, the waistband sitting snugly around your waist, pressing into your skin a little bit more than usual. You dug through the closet to find one of Bucky's hoodies to slip on, loving the way the soft material engulphed you in his scent.

You weren't showing much yet but your body was certainly changing. Your sense of smell was heightened, constantly craving to be surrounded by your boyfriends smell. Your breasts were growing heavier and your clothes were more fitting than before. Cravings had already started. Your cheeks were a tad fuller and you were certainly glowing.

Bucky's super soldier serum was no joke.

You made your way down to make something for breakfast, grabbing a bag of peppermint tea to help with some of the nausea you had been experiencing. Sharon sauntered into the kitchen, still clad in her tiny workout clothes as she went to the fridge to grab a water bottle.

"Hey Sharon" You smiled as you poured water into your mug while munching on a cookie, grabbing another when your tummy rumbled. Baby Barnes clearly took after daddy, craving anything and everything sweet. And salty. And sweet and salty.

"Hey y/n" Sharon's eyes looked at you up and down, cocking her head slightly while you snacked, rummaging around for something else to eat. "Might wanna cut down a little there, huh" She teased, nodding to the potato chip you popped into your mouth.

"What?" You weren't sure you heard correctly, setting down the bag while she pursed her lips.

"Oh, nothing. I don't know how you eat that stuff, it's so greasy"

"Hm, yeah I guess" You gave her a weak smile, her words causing the insecurities you were already feeling about your body to creep back up again. You had a heavy feeling in your chest, seeing her flit about the kitchen, still perfectly toned. You shook those thoughts away, remembering the reason beautiful your body was different but it didn't do much.

The words still stung.

You decided to make your way back to your room to wait for Bucky to return from his morning jog with Steve, passing by one of the new trainees as you left the kitchen. Their hushed whispers caused you to stop in your tracks, your stomach dropping when you heard what they were saying.

"She's getting fat" Sharon snorted, hardly noticing you weren't out of ear shot while the trainee giggled along with her, nodding in agreement.

"Oh my God, you should've seen her at the gym yesterday. She was breathing so hard while running on the treadmill, I thought she was going to pass out. I don't even think she lasted 5 minutes before calling it quits" The trainee replied while Sharon rolled her eyes.

"She's gonna looked like a beached whale if she keeps eating like that, I swear she finished the entire row single handedly"

"I don't get what Bucky is doing with her. Honestly, I'm not even complaining. If she gets any fatter he's gonna leave her so maybe that'll make it easier for me" Sharon cackled along with the girl, the both of them snickering while swooning over the soldier. "He's so hot. I don't get what the hell he's doing with her, he can do so much better. Just wait till I show him, he'll see what he's missed out on"

You hardly realized you'd broken down into tears, slapping a hand over your mouth to keep from sobbing. You ran to your shared bedroom as fast as you could before anyone else saw you, closing the door and instructing FRIDAY to keep everyone out. You threw your jeans off, hating the way they were tighter on you, curling up under the covers, muffling your cries into the pillow.

-

Bucky ran his fingers through his short locks, making his way to the kitchen to grab some water after his run, smiling to himself knowing how much you loved to slink around him whenever he worked out. He loved how needy and cuddly you were, always burying your face into his neck of chest, trying to crawl up him like a tree.

"Where are you babygirl" Bucky called for you, expecting to see you in the perched in the kitchen with your pepper mint tea you'd recently been relying on, only to find a full mug without you in sight. Sharon and the new agent were still there, both of them eyeing him up and down, hoping to get his attention.

"Hey Sarge-

"Have you seen y/n" Bucky cut Sharon off, still looking around for you. Sharon rolled her eyes again, stating she hadn't seen you at all, since she'd spend her own morning working out. Bucky frowned, picking up the still hot tea, taking it up as he made his way to the bedroom.

"Sweeheart?" Bucky called for you softly, his heart racing when he hard soft sniffles from the other side of the door, his anxiety spiking when the door was locked. "Baby, are you okay? Can you open the door please?"

You hiccupped, trying to calm yourself down hearing Bucky's worried voice, quickly wiping your face before getting out of bed to open the door for him. His heart broke seeing his sweet girl with red rimmed eyes and puffy cheeks from crying, pulling you into him while shutting the door behind him.

"What's wrong mama" Bucky cooed, hugging you tightly while you whimpered in his hold, your insecurities at an all time high as he slipped his hand under your hoodie to stroke the bare skin of your back.

"Am I fat?" You whispered, worried the question would make realize you were less attractive, a fresh wave of tears streaming down your face.

"What?" Bucky pulled away, shock evident on his face while you stared at your feet, swallowing nervously.

"Please don't make me say it"

"Sweetheart, look at me" He held your face firmly in his hands making you look a him, "Why would you ask such a thing"

"I-I heard some people talking in the kitchen. Said I'm fat" If it wasn't for Bucky's enhanced hearing, he would've missed your fallen voice as you hide your face in his chest again.

"Absolutely not baby, who said that to you" Bucky held back on the red hot anger that surged through him, needing to comfort you first before raining hell on whoever hurt you.

"But I am Bucky!" You cried in frustration, pulling away from his hold. "It looks awful and I'm just going to keep getting bigger, I- I get if you don't find me as attractive-

"Hey, hey, stop, baby look at me" Bucky stopped your rambling, pulling you back into him, his hands holding your face firmly, "Do you have any idea how gorgeous you are to me? Hm? Do you have any idea how insanely attracted I've been to you ever since you told me you're pregnant?"

You shook your head, your heart jolting when he pushed himself against you, letting you feel the hardness between his legs, poorly contained in his joggers.

"Bucky-

"C'mere" Bucky threw your hoodie off before stripping his own clothes aside, his hard cock angry and leaking, desperate to fill you. "M'gonna show you baby"

He didn't give you a second to protest, carrying you over to bed and laying you down, spreading your legs apart, flicking his cock against your clit before tracing it down to your entrance and shoving himself home.

"Bucky!" you moaned, your legs moving on their own to wrap around his waist as he started to move, throbbing the entire time.

"You're so fuckin' beautiful mama, if you weren't pregnant already, we'd be in here all day till you were" Bucky groaned, grabbing and caressing your soft skin, already leaking into you. "You're gonna look so sexy when your belly gets all round, when these breasts get all big, they're gonna leak so much carrying my baby"

He moved to tug your swollen nipples between his pink lips, groaning at the thought of how sweet your milk would taste. Your back arched off the bed from how sensitive they were, your cunt fluttering around his cock, sucking him in deeper.

"I already know you're gonna get so swollen mama, its my baby in your belly. Did you forget its my cum that got you pregnant? Did you forget there's all that serum in my cock baby? I got you fuckin' pregnant, I'm you're babydaddy, I can't wait to see you get all tired, pouty and big with my super soldier baby"

"Oh fuck Bucky" you wailed, his words making your heart swell while your pussy nearly squirted as he hit that spongy spot deep in you, "P-please don't-don't stop"

"I won't stop baby, couldn't even if I wanted to, y'feel too good. Fuck, just knowing you're pregnant makes me so hard, can't believe I knocked suck a pretty little thing up, so lucky I got to stuff you nice and full"

Bucky started to fuck you harder till he headboard added new dents to the wall since the extra strength walls Tony added had nothing on Bucky's stamina and strength.

"Can't wait till everyone sees how pretty you're gonna look, m'gonna show you off, make sure everyone knows you're my girl, the love of my life, that you're carrying a piece of me in you"

"But- but what if they think-I won't look-" You're insecurities tried to sneak back in but Bucky wasn't having any of it, shutting ha down immediately.

"I'll fuck you in front of them. You think I give a fuck? I'll bend this pretty ass over, hold that perfectly round belly and stuff my cock in you till it leaks and makes a mess on the floor. I'll show them exactly what I did to get you that big in the first place, let them see how swollen my cock gets for you, goddamn, I'm gonna cum!"

Bucky fucked you hard and fast, letting you feel him in your stomach, not holding back one bit, his hand flying to grip onto the headboard.

"Bucky-Bucky gonna-I'm gonna-!OH GOD" You let out a silent scream, cumming around him without warning, your pregnancy making you extra sensitive, being able to orgasm without him even touching you.

"This sweet, soft fuckin' body" Bucky's pace faltered, sinking his teeth into your shoulder, "So good to me, so fuckin' good!, gonna cum mama, gonna give you more of my cream, gonna full that pussy up n'keep you pregnant forever, take it gorgeous, fuckin' beautiful, no one makes me hard like this, m'gonna cum so hard-fuck-fuck-FUCCCKKK M'CUMMING" Bucky roared against your neck, his cock bursting with ropes of cum, emptying his balls dry with sloppy thrusts until the sheets were soaked. You both panted, sweat covering your bodies, the sweet, primal smell of sex filling the room making your practically purr.

"You're the most beautiful thing to ever happen to me. I love you no matter what. You're stunning to me at any size, pregnant or not, don't you ever forget it" Bucky held you firmly, brushing his hands over your belly, pressing a kiss to your temple. You nodded, already feeling better, nervousness replacing your previous anxiety because you knew Bucky wouldn't let the incident slide.

"Who made you feel this way baby" His voice was gentle but he wasn't leaving any room for negotiation.

"Just leave it Bucky" You shrugged, not wanting to make it a big deal but he shook his head.

"Can't do that sugar. No one makes my doll upset. You get some rest alright? let me make you lunch and we'll take a nap after"

You nodded, letting him slip his henley over your head, grabbing some comfy sweats for you to wear and throwing on his own clothes before heading down. You froze as you neared the kitchen seeing everyone else downstairs gathered for lunch which was a rare sight but there had been less mission recently meaning everyone was home. Bucky gave your hand a comforting squeeze, a stark contrast the to protective anger he felt again.

"Who the fuck spoke about y/n" Bucky stormed down, silence filling the room immediatly, everyone staring at each other in confusion while Sharon's face filled with guilt. "Well?!"

"What happened Buck, Steve and I were training this morning" Sam said honestly, while the others nodded in agreement, still looking at each other wondering what was going on. "You okay, sweetheart?"

"Well someone said something because she was upset in our bedroom and it happened today" Bucky had a good feeling about who caused your distress, knowing no one else would ever do such a thing but he wasn't about to call out Sharon ha easily, seeing her already squirming in discomfort.

"There's an easy solution to all this, give me a second" Tony typed something into his phone before calling for Friday, "FRIDAY can you play back the audio from this morning from when y/n was in here"

"Certainly, Mr. Stark"

The audio started with you greeting Sharon, followed by her comment and then the conversation she had with the new trainee. Shock and gasps filled the room, everyone glaring at the blonde with disgust while she shook her head, her stomach churning.

"I-I didn't say anything! That wasn't even me!"

"Really? Then who the fuck was it" Bucky spat, ready to jump her across the table, his fists balled at his side. Sharon huffed, biting her lip while Bucky continued to glare at her, still holding your hand softly in his. His anger only flared more, thinking about how she thought she could replace you.

"Fine! I said it! But was I wrong? She is bigger than before" Sharon weakly defended herself, trembling when Bucky flinched, his self restraint growing thinner. Your eyes grew steamy, squeaking when Bucky moved to wrap his arm around your tummy, slipping it under your shirt.

"Cause she's pregnant. With my baby. I'm her babydaddy. I got her pregnant. You wanna know how? I fucked her. So hard. I didn't just fuck her, I made love to her cause she's my girl. Do you have any idea how attracted I am to her? How much cum there was? I didn't pull out once. She's so tight around my cock, its hard not to fill her up. Just kept going until my dick started to hurt and even then, I didn't wanna pull out"

Sam smirked at Bucky's utterly unhinged, x-rated rambling while Steve buried his red face in his hands. Tony cackled from the side while Nat patiently waited to get a chance to lay her hands on Sharon on Bucky's behalf.

"I-I get it, enough-

"You're delusional if you think I'd ever leave her for you. This is the love of my life. She's giving me a baby. She's beautiful. I chose this woman because she's special, she's this one I want to have a family with. You know what, you better get used to it cause I'm gonna get her pregnant again and again and it won't be hard considering how badly I constantly want her. In fact, we fucked just now, tell your little friend that"

"Oh my god" Sharon huffed, harshly wiping her tear streaked face, ready to throw up from embarrassment. She choked a sob, running out without looking back, Bucky's words tearing her apart. Everyone ignored her presence, immediately piling onto you with hugs, kisses and congratulations instead.

"Congratulations, babydaddy" Sam grinned, playfully nudging Bucky's shoulder making him blush, his arms still wrapped around your tummy. "And to you, little mama"

"I call god father" Steve announced, kissing your cheek before pulling Bucky into a tight hug, happy for his best friend and you.

Nat cracked a few knuckles, giving you a quick peck on the head, promising to celebrate later before following Sharon out, ready to hand her ass to her. The little trainee would be next.

"So what you're both saying is there's gonna be another super soldier running around here?" Tony's eyes lit up with excitement and a dash of fear when he remembered the baby would also be surrounded by idiots like Sam and Steve. He'd have to reinforce everything.

Immediately.

[landoughnut]

My Woman

♡ masterlist - request!

♡ pairing - max verstappen x fem!reader (fc - cindy kimberly)

♡ summary - max fighting with people thirsting in his girlfriends comments

♡ warnings - horny/simp max, crack, some fluff, some cursing, use of y/n

♡ w/c & a/n - smau | i actually love writing these ones but ive gotta learn how to do the other types of smau's people make with twitter and stuff ahahahaha

maxverstappen1 CBUXHNHDUNZ liked by yourusername

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georgerussell63 kids???

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maxverstappen1 ONE DAY?? IM GOING TO FAINT 😵

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maxvertsappen1 that would be y/n trying to teach him how to use technology

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maxvertsappen1 she does not. we are very happy with our cats.

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maxverstappen1 ON MY KNEES 🧎‍♂️

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maxverstappen1 mouth is watering

carlossainz55 i feel like im intruding...

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maxverstappen1 in your dreams 😂

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maxverstappen1 HOW DID I GET THE PRETTIEST GIRL IN THE WORLD AS MIJN VRIENDIN ☹️ (my girlfriend)

yourusername AWHH I LOVE YOU LIEVELING 🥹 (darling)

maxverstappen1 IK HOU HET MEEST VAN JOU ❣️ (i love you most)

landonorris i ask myself the same thing every day tbh

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maxverstappen1 im afraid thats y/n's job 😝 liked by yourusername

charles_leclerc alex told me to tell you she loves your dress, because her phone died

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charles_lecerc uhhh no

maxverstappen1 thank you charles 🙄

georgerussell63 max was obsessing over you in the gc just so you know

maxverstappen1 excuse you?? dont out me like that 😤

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maxverstappen1 you bet i can 😒

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maxverstappen1 mrs rabbit has fainted

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oscarpiastri lily is dying to meet you!!

yourusername awhh same!! tell her to dm me 🎀🤭

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lorenzo_zurzolo bellissima

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lorenzo_zurzolo im very honored ahaha ❤️

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username prettiest girl ever

maxverstappen1 she is🫠

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danielricciardo yeah i told him it was corny 🙄

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maxverstappen1 SEE?? her opinion is the only one that matters to me anyway

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oscarpiastri the amout of content of you and y/n on my feed is concerning

maxverstappen1 😜

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charles_leclerc not only are you meowing at your girlfriend... but you're doing it on your own post of her??

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charles_leclerc .......

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maxverstappen1 as he should be 🫡

honeymoon YUMMYYYYY

yourusername 💍❓

username i need her to dom me in bed ngl

maxverstappen HELLL NAH THE ONLY PERSON SHE DOMS IS ME

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alex_albon wow comments are getting more unhinged every day

lilymhe okay but i agree with username

alex_albon 👎

username SHE CAN RUN ME OVER AND ID APOLOGIZE

maxverstappen1 how about I run you over instead ☺️

redbullracing he's just joking 😅

maxverstappen1 dont lie to them

yourusername MY MANNNN ❣️

maxverstapepn MY WOMANNNN

[docholligay]

Do you think authors sometimes don't realize how their, uh, interests creep into their writing? I'm talking about stuff like Robert Jordan's obvious femdom kink, or Anne Rice's preoccupation with inc*st and p*dophilia. Did their editors ever gently ask them if they've ever actually read what they've written?

Firstly, a reminder: This is not tiktok and we just say the words incest and pedophilia here.

Secondly, I don't know if I would call them 'interests' so much as fixations or even concerns. There are monstrous things that people think about, and I think writing is a place to engage with those monstrous things. It doesn't bother me that people engage with those things. I exist somewhere within the whump scale, and I would hope no one would think less of me just because sooner or later I like to rough a good character up a bit, you know? It's fun to torture characters, as a treat!

But, anyway, assuming this question isn't, "Do writers know they're gross when I think they are gross" which I'm going to take the kind road and assume it isn't, but is instead, "Do you think authors are aware of the things they constantly come back to?"

Sometimes. It can be jarring to read your own writing and realize that there are things you CLEARLY are preoccupied with. (mm, I like that word more than concerns). There are things you think about over and over, your run your mind over them and they keep working their way back in. I think this is true of most authors, when you read enough of them. Where you almost want to ask, "So...what's up with that?" or sometimes I read enough of someone's work that I have a PRETTY good idea what's up with that.

I've never read Robert Jordan and I don't intend to start (I think it would bore me this is not a moral stance) and I've really never read Rice's erotica. In erotica especially I think you have all the right in the world to get fucking weird about it! But so, when I was young I read the whole Vampire Chronicles series. I don't remember it perfectly, but there's plenty in it to reveal VERY plainly that Anne Rice has issues with God but deeply believes in God, and Anne Rice has a preoccupation with the idea of what should stay dead, and what it means to become. So, when i found out her daughter died at the age of six, before Rice wrote all of this, and she grew up very very Catholic' I said, 'yeah, that fucking checks out'.

Was Rice herself aware of how those things formed her writing? I think at a certain point probably yes. The character of Claudia is in every way too on the nose for her not to have SOME idea unless she was REAL REAL dense about her own inner workings. But, sometimes I know where something I write about comes from, that doesn't mean I'm interested in sharing it with the class. I would never ever fucking say, 'The reasons I seem to write so much of x as y is that z happened to me years ago' ahaha FUCK THAT NOISE. NYET. RIDE ON, COWBOY.

But I've known some people in fandom works who clearly have something going on and don't seem to realize it. Or they're very good at hiding it. Based on the people I'm talking about I would say it's more a lack of self-knowledge, and I don't even mean that unkindly. I have, in many ways, taken myself down to the studs and rebuilt it all, so I unfortunately am very aware of why I do and write the things I do most of the time. It's extremely annoying not to be able to blame something. I imagine it must be very freeing. But it ain't me, babe.

Anyway, a lot of words to say: Maybe! But that might not stop them from writing it, it might be a useful thing for them to engage with, and you can always just not read it.

Also, we don't censor words here.

[remuslupinslittleslut]

Poly!Marauders x Reader - First time

Poly!Marauders x Reader, it's her first time and they're all helping out. Also, it's so On Brand for James Potter to come in his pants while eating pussy. I love this man.

“So, you’re saying you’ve never… done it?” Sirius asks, looking at Y/N questioningly.

“Nice way to put it, Pads”, scolded Remus, reaching out to touch the cheek of their girlfriend.

“Uh, yeah, I guess”, she starts, “I mean, I’ve done… some stuff? But not, like, all of it?”

The boys share a look of… something new. Soon, three sets of hands are touching her, rubbing her thighs, arms, and sides.

“Do you… want to? With us?” Asks James, rubbing circles with his thumbs on her arms.

She’s playing with her hands in her lap, feeling her heart racing. Excitement started to take over the nervousness that had previously filled her body. She did want it, badly, but she was unsure of how to initiate, not knowing what was okay or how to best go about it.

“Yeah” she says, looking into James’ eyes, “Yeah, I want to.”

***

Not long after, she’s sitting against the headboard, back pressed against Sirius’ chest, lips locked with Remus and James’ lips kissing down her legs. They had promised to take the best of care of her, and she really could feel it, the love that encompassed her in this position. The arms of Sirius, wrapped around her waist, started to sneak under the fabric of her shirt, as Remus’ hands teased her nipples through the shirt.

“Baby, can I unbutton this?” Sirius asks from behind her, lips trailing kisses down her neck, leading to Remus receiving a moan in his mouth before she nods, telling the man behind her that yes he can.

Hands are running up her legs, rubbing at her thighs, sending shivers down her spine as her shirt finally comes undone, baring her tits for her little audience.

“So pretty, love”, murmurs Remus, sitting back and taking in the view.

James, too, leans up on his elbows to look at her, basking in her beauty, “Yeah babe, so pretty,” making her shy away from all the attention, trying to hide her face in Sirius’ hair.

“How’re you feeling, pretty girl?” Sirius asks her, reaching to grab at her pretty tits, feeling her arch her back against his chest.

“Uh huh, so good”, Y/N whines, feeling James’ hands creeping up her thighs, followed by his mouth, kissing, biting and nibbling at the skin. Her moans rise an octave as his hands reach the very top of her legs, fingers nudging her underwear.

“May I?” His glasses are completely askew and he’s looking up at her with wide eyes, shiny with anticipation, and when she nods he reaches all the way, rubbing at her clit through her panties, “How’s that feel baby?”

“Good, so good”, she’s getting whiny, the feeling of all three of them becoming overwhelming, “Remmy please, wanna feel you, kiss me?” And how could he ever say no to that? Leaning back down, he places one hand on her cheek, angling her face to be able to kiss her.

James taps her hips, indicating for her to lift so that he can pull her undies down, “Oh she’s so pretty”, he says, “Pretty little pussy… Pads, help me keep her legs open.” His friend complies, using his own legs to keep hers open, hands still running up and down her waist, sometimes coming up to grab at her tits.

Sploshy sounds fill the room as James’s lips stay locked against her wet pussy, his hips moving to rub himself against the mattress. Remus pulls away, again, “Do you like that, pretty girl? You like James eating your sweet cunt?” He asks, rubbing a thumb against her red and swollen lips, “I think you should put this pretty mouth to good use as well, don’t you?”

The question makes her blush a deep red, but she does think that so she nods, feeling that nervousness creep up again, but before she can think any more of it, Remus’ trousers and pants are off and he’s placing his hard, pink tipped cock right in her face. “Open up, baby”, he says, poking her lips with the head.

The taste is a bit strange, she thinks, salty and tangy, but not bad. She starts by licking around the tip, before opening up more to let him further in her mouth. At the same time, James’s fingers are working tirelessly against her clit, while his tongue licks around her hole, making her moan and whimper around Remus’ cock.

Remus has a firm hold around her neck, not really squeezing, just holding her in place as he lightly thrusts his hips, careful not to choke her. “So good, baby, such a sweet little mouth, yeah?” Her eyes open, looking up at him, “Yeah, you’re just made to take cock like this.”

In between her legs, James switches position, fingers plunging into her leaking hole, tongue rubbing circles on her sensitive bud. Her legs try to close, but Sirius’ legs keep her open for his friend, letting him feast on their girlfriend, while their other boyfriend fills her mouth. He can feel her getting closer, noticing how she gets more twitchy in the legs and her mouth turns slack around Remus. “So good, love, you can let go now, yeah just like that, let go, come all over James’ face, just like that, good girl”, Sirius is telling her to let go, and that with the praise sends her straight over the edge, juices flooding, covering James. Remus pulls out of her mouth, letting her breathe, and takes Sirius hand, bringing it to his cock. Watching their girl come, one of his boyfriends jerking his cock, Remus can’t do much but come, covering her chest in hot, white liquid.

“Jamie, please stop”, her hands go to his hair, pulling him off, “‘s too much, please.” He pulls away, face wet with her slick, and he looks sheepishly up at his three partners as they all notice the wet patch on his legs.

“Can you take more?” Asks Remus, coming down from his own orgasm. She nods, whimpering a simple yeah, “Good girl, then I think it’s about time Padfoot gets his turn with you, yeah?” Her eyes widen, but soon she’s turning in the lap of the aforementioned boy.

“Hi baby”, he says, finally facing her. Arms around her waist, holding her close

“Hey…”, her head nuzzling into the crook of his neck, smelling his hair, breathing it in.

“Gonna fuck you now, yeah? Gonna make you feel so good”, his hands reach down, grabbing her ass, spreading her cheeks slightly, “up a lil for me” he commands, and she raises herself up on her thighs, hovering over his lap. He frees himself from his pants, tugging himself a few times, “Allright, baby, now come down for me.” One hand on himself, the other on her hips, he aligns himself with her hole, letting her down, filling her up. They both moan at the intrusion, his eyes raising to look over her shoulder at their two boyfriends, eagerly watching the pair.

Sirius moves down a bit, laying down, letting her face stay in the place where his neck meets his shoulder, folding his legs and thrusting up into her. He winces as she bites his shoulder, in a desperate try not to scream out loud.

“Is this okay, baby?” He asks, warm hands rubbing her backside.

“Yeah, ‘s good, so good.” She feels like she’s on fire, her hole being perfectly stretched, g-spot consistently hit. It’s a new sensation, different from James’ fingers. When Sirius starts thrusting faster, holding onto her arse, practically splitting her in two, she goes into a very different headspace. It’s so good, so, so good, but also so so much and soon she’s coming, again, walls clamping down on Sirius’ cock, moans slipping from her mouth, stuck to her throat.

“Fuck, babe, you’re so good, so tight, love this little hole”, he’s, once again, whispering very dirty words in her ear, chasing his own orgasm. “Ah, huh, Siri, fuck, ah, please”, she’s whiny, moaning and whimpering, small hands clamping down on his upper arms, holding on for dear life.

“Ah that’s it, love, gonna come now, gonna fill you up”, and he does, and it’s amazing, yet another completely new sensation, sending her over the edge for a third time.

“Good job baby, took us all so well” “Yeah love, you did so well for us, gonna let you rest now”

“‘M gonna clean you up a lil, you just lay here though, such a good girl”

[a-mint-bear]

Make Me Yours

Male Yandere x Reader

Part 2: "Your One and Only"

"I just... really wanna put a collar on a cute guy."

You didn't even mean to say it out loud, but your best friend since middle school had always been super open with this sort of stuff. You've always been the first one she texts when a date goes really well, or really terribly. And a lot of your coffee meetups, like this one, devolve into her oversharing all the juicy details of her relationships.

"Oh wow." She nudged you with a grin. "Didn't know you had it in you!"

Unable to meet her eyes, you try to defend your stray thought. You remind her of some of the jerks you've dated, how their assertive and self-assured personalities had all quickly turned into a bit too aggressive and controlling. In certain situations, in controlled doses... that could lead to a nice time. But it's all fun and games until you try to explain away some of their worse moments to your coworkers and swiftly realize you're in "that kind" of relationship. You wonder if you give off some kind of energy that attracts creeps...

The thought of finding a guy who would not only let you take the reins but maybe even prefer you taking charge? It gave you a little thrill you're almost embarrassed to admit.

"Well, it's nothing to get all twisted up over." she shrugs, taking a sip of her iced latte. "You'll find the right guy that's into that kind of thing."

You smiled, she really was trying to encourage you with this, and it was oddly sweet of her.

"Oh, look!" she scooted closer to you, showing you her phone screen. "There's tons of collars you can get. You thinkin' like leather, classic S&M style? Or somethin' more cutesy?"

Maybe a little too encouraging, sometimes.

~ Somewhere very close by...~

His hands were shaking. Your words were playing on repeat in his head, drowning everything else out.

As if you weren't already perfect. He'd been so jealous of you meeting up with your friend, but if it made this conversation happen so he couldn't be too upset about it. He'd been trying to think of some way to make you his for so long... But being yours? Wearing something like that? Something that said he belonged only to you?

He was already yours. But a little proof never hurt.

. . .

It was late, and you decided to cut through the park to get home quicker. It was a pretty safe area, but you didn't want to be here any longer than you had to be. A few lights lit up the main path and you didn't see anyone else around.

But that didn't mean you were alone.

"Hey..."

You spin around to see... some guy. You'd never met him before, but he was... making A LOT of eye contact.

He was cute though. Soft, fluffy hair and piercings in his ears, his bright eyes poking out from beneath his bangs. And he had at least six inches on you, but not really an intimidating frame, a bit skinny too. The way he was looking at you was making you nervous, but you weren't sure if it was a "Oh, this is unexpected." kind of nervous or a "You're gonna end up in his basement." kind of nervous.

"You probably don't remember me but, uh...we had a few classes together last year and…"

He seemed really nervous himself, trailing off with some color in his cheeks. You tell him politely that you were sorry, but you didn't remember him.

"That's okay, uh..."

He was breathing kind of funny, his eyes still staring into yours. You asked him what he needed, hoping it would speed this along and you could leave.

He took a breath, and all you could do was stare, wondering if you should distract him and make a break for it.

"I... I've liked you. For a long time. It's like... like everything about you is just so... wonderful! Seeing you every day keeps me going! I was okay just watching but then... Sorry, sorry. I'm c-coming on too strong, I..."

He took a step towards you, moving like he was going to touch you, but you instinctively took a step back. He looked a little hurt.

"No, no please, don't be scared! I just... I thought it was the right time... I've been thinking about this for so long! I just wanted to..."

He dropped to his knees and the look in his eyes was almost...like he worshipped you. Like you were everything to him and nothing else mattered. It was a bit overwhelming...

"I heard you talking to your friend the other day. Not, uh, not in a weird way, I swear! I-it's just... It's all I can think about..."

He stared at you, a glimmer of something in his eyes. You could see a tremble in his hands, like he was debating reaching out for you again. But he was holding himself back.

Seeing him kneeling, looking up at you with a want that burned into you... It was doing something to you.

This was a weird, kinda scary, unbelievable situation. But it felt so...

Good.

You felt bold. Deciding to go for broke, you finally spoke again.

You asked him to tell you what he wanted.

You could see the tremble shoot through his frame, the smallest, quietest gasp when the your words finally registered.

"I want... I want you to look down at me, just like this! I want you to run your fingers through my hair and tell me I'm a good boy. Your good boy! I want to cuddle up to you and hear your heartbeat while you hold me, I... I want you to use me... I want you to yank my collar if I get too excited and tell me to behave."

He laughed softly at the thought, this guy was completely smitten.

"I want to be yours, if that'll make you happy..."

He reached into his back pocket, you heard the gentle clink of the collar before you saw it. It was like some kind of odd proposal, except he was down on both knees.

He held it up to you, his eyes clouded with a want that made your face feel hot.

So painfully slowly, you reached out for him, your fingers flinching back for a split second, rational thought desperately trying to break through. But despite all the reasons you could think this was completely crazy, you still wanted this.

You touched his cheek, and he didn't hesitate to lean into your hand with a contented, dreamy sigh.

The power he was giving you was... new, exciting, maybe a bit intoxicating. And he was offering it all so willingly, you wondered if this was all a dream.

"I wanna be your good boy..." His voice was soft but pleading, almost desperate. "Please..."

His smile was making your brain feel fuzzy, seeing him looking up at you like you were his whole world.

"Make me yours."

[ohbueckers]

EXTRA POINTS. blurb!

pairing, paige bueckers x fem!reader. notes, glasses p fic per request of a few queens… MAMA WORKED AS FAST AS SHE COULD! @thaatdigitaldiary @absolutelydreadful & credits to @justliketoreadsowhat ‘s anon for the detail. warnings, none just fluff? sexual jokes as well because who am i without them, like…

the night air is still pretty warm, the scent of freshly cut grass still tingling your nostrils after the soccer game you attended with paige and her teammates. it had been a long night—filled with cheering, concessions, and paige’s arm constantly draped around your shoulder as she proudly showed you off. she somehow convinced you to tag along, but watching her light up during the game made it worth it.

now, you’re walking back to the dorms, the sound of sneakers and laughter being the only thing heard off the empty sidewalks as the team stalks a few yards in front of the two of you. paige has her hair slicked back into a messy low bun, a few strands falling loose, and her purple glasses perched perfectly on the bridge of her nose. the lenses catch a subtle blue tint from the streetlights, a little detail you can’t stop staring at—honestly, she looks so good, it’s borderline unfair. you never thought purple glasses could be your weakness, but here you are.

“you enjoying the ice cream, or are you too busy staring at me?” paige teases, glancing over with that signature smirk. she knows exactly what she’s doing, making it impossible to look away from her.

“shut up, paige,” you reply with a scoff, although there’s no ruthless intent as you nudge her with your elbow. “i’m just enjoying the quiet now that your fan club’s calmed down.”

“oh, you love it!” she laughs out, throwing an arm around your shoulder and pulling you closer. “don’t act like you don’t love watching me be all famous and stuff. plus, you looked cute taking all those pics with me. so i ain’t complainin.’”

you roll your eyes, but you can’t help the smile creeping up on your face. paige had been asked for a picture more times than you could count on your hands, and obviously the tiktoks came with that. she’d dragged you into most of it, keeping you close the whole time, making sure everyone knew you were hers. it was chaotic and you were used to it at this point, and you could admit there was something fun about watching her be in her element.

“alright, maybe it was kinda fun,” you say, taking a bite of the spoonful of ice cream she’d held out for you so casually. the cold hits your tongue, and you savor the flavor for a second before narrowing your eyes at her. “but you still owe me.”

paige jerks her head back, grinning and clearly enjoying herself. “owe you? i’m literally spoon-feeding you right now. how do i still owe you?”

you quirk an eyebrow up at her, leaning in a little as you held her gaze, and it was the kind of look that said enough.

she chuckles, leaning back slightly, still holding the spoon in front of you like she’s ready for round two. “aight, fine, i’ll give you that. but let me get you back at home, baby—i got some ideas.” her voice drops a little lower, clearly playing but also half-serious. she may be all jokes, but she definitely knows how to back them up.

before you can even respond, she takes her own spoonful of your ice cream, the nerve, flashing a cheeky grin before planting a wet, playful kiss right on your lips. the cold of the treat and the warmth of her mouth clash, leaving you squealing and half-laughing, trying to push her away. “paige!” you protest, wiping the ice cream from your lips, but there’s no hiding the wide smile breaking out across your face. she’s such a menace sometimes.

as if one cue, everyone seemed to have glanced back at the right time, catching sight of something straight out of a rom-com.

“yo! they really can’t keep their hands off each other.” kk’s voice cuts through.

“really can’t take them nowhere…” aubrey quips.

sarah laughs, chiming in. “oh, we see you, paige! real smooth,” and morgan practically doubles over in laughter beside her.

paige smirks, and you swore she would’ve thrown up those rizz hands if her hands weren’t full. “what can i say?” you smile yourself, shaking your head at her and leaning into the blonde’s side as the banter from behind fades into the background. as much as paige plays around, the way she’s been with you tonight—keeping you close, showing you off, feeding you ice cream like it’s the most natural thing in the world—it’s those little moments that make it so easy to fall for her. every laugh, every teasing smile, even the way she annoys you, it’s like she knows exactly how to keep your guard down. and honestly, you don’t mind one bit.

“you know, you didn’t have to buy me ice cream,” you say softly, looking up at her.

“nah, i did,” paige replies, her voice gentle. “had to make sure my girl knows i take care of her. plus,” she smirks again, looking away like she’s cooking up some mischievous ass reply. “i’m tryna’ score some extra points for later.”

you laugh, shoving her off of you yet she barely flinches. “yeah, okay, keep dreaming.”

paige pulls you even closer, kissing the side of your head as your arms fall to your sides. she murmurs, “dreaming? nah, i’m ms. make it happen.”

[ddejavvu]

can I request one with Spencer Reid based on the season 4 club scene??? He's there with Morgan and stares at the reader and Morgan shows him how to approach her but the reader doesn't fall for Morgan's approach, then Reid gives it a try and she turns into a giggly blushing mess at how cute he is and his weird facts!! Idk something fluffy??

reader is slightly mean to morgan in this one and i'm so sorry to have dissed the love of my life </333

--

"Don't bother," Morgan catches Spencer's shoulder when the man looks like he's about to give you their 'have you seen this man?' spiel. "I tried to tell her about the unsub, but she's not very impressed by men cornering her in the club. We don't have to worry about her, she won't fall for his bullshit."

"She should know, though." Spencer frowns, watching as you stare lazily at your drink, watching condensation drip down the glass, "I'll tell her."

"Reid, I'm telling you, she's not a potential victim," Morgan squeezes his shoulder, "Listen, if I couldn't get her to talk to me, there's no way the creep we're looking for could win her over. And he's not gonna waste his time on someone who says no to him."

The expression on your face changes from a dark scowl when a man stands a few inches too close to you while ordering a drink, to a soft, disinterested pout when he leaves again and you're able to relax. You don't look resistant, you look hesitant. You don't look like you're refusing to talk to anyone, you look like you're waiting for the right person to talk to you, and Derek Morgan was wrong.

"I'll just be a minute," Spencer slips out from beneath Derek's heavy hand and ignores the agent's groan as he approaches you. He knows Morgan's eyes are heavy on his back while he steps up to your barstool, but he pushes away the pressure of an audience to smile kindly at you.

"Hello," He offers, his voice barely audible over the music. His fingers latch tight around the strap of his messenger bag and the flyer he's holding wrinkles in his firm grip, "I'm Doctor Spencer Reid, with the FBI's Behavioral Analysis Unit, I'm here to warn you about a potential threat."

Maybe it's not the strongest way to start off a conversation with a pretty girl at a bar, but it's the information you need to know. Stuttered flirting and watered-down drinks can come later, if they happen at all; Spencer's priority is your safety.

Your brows raise and you look past Spencer's shoulder hesitantly, "Is it him? He tried trapping me earlier."

Spencer's chest relaxes slightly where it had been tensed, and he lets out a mild laugh, "Well, he's not the main threat I'm worried about. Did he- did he do the thing where he called you sugar?"

"Mm-mm," You shake your head, taking a sip of the sad remains of your drink and speaking after you swallow, "Sweet cheeks."

Even Spencer winces. Where Morgan's strategy is charm first, then the ugly stuff, Spencer thinks it's only fair to let you know why he's there before letting himself get distracted.

"He thinks that's some sort of magic spell," He laments, "Uh- I'm sorry if he made you uncomfortable. Technically, he was just trying to warn you about the same guy I'm warning you about, but we have a very different way of going about business."

"I can tell," You nod, eyes widening slightly for emphasis. Then you glance at the stool beside your own, "Sit down, Doctor. Tell me about this creep. Well- the one on the flyer."

Morgan watches with something ugly rearing in his chest as Spencer takes the seat you've offered him, but he wrestles it down to replace it with pride. Perhaps he'll have to reevaluate his strategy when it comes to disinterested patrons, but as he watches Spencer magically find his business card behind your ear, he's not sure he'll ever have what the young doctor does.

[paxtito]

grey sweatpants

parings: tara x reader (g!p)

word count: 4048

warnings: smut 18+, swearing, reader has a dick, oral sex, fingering and p in v

summary: tara’s tiktok feed has been filled with people buying their partners grey sweatpants, it’s supposed to exaggerate certain… features. she drags you along to the shop to buy a pair and let’s just say, she definitely likes it

a/n: wrote this while listening to the car by arctic monkeys, i will not tolerate hate towards their newer stuff- apologies in advance for any mistakes

MASTERLIST

You’re barely two steps inside the store when Tara’s hand closes around your wrist, dragging you through the aisles with a surprising amount of strength for someone so small. Her eyes are lit up with that determined gleam that usually spells trouble—or something about to become very memorable. You’re not sure which it’ll be, but you follow, grinning.

“We’re not leaving until you’ve tried on at least five pairs,” she declares, her voice laced with mischievous excitement.

“Five?” you laugh, letting her pull you deeper into the clothing section. “Don’t you think that’s a little…excessive?”

“Nope,” she says, without even a second of hesitation. She looks back at you with a smirk. “You need options. And I need the perfect pair.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Perfect pair for what?”

She stops in front of a display of grey sweatpants, eyeing them like they’re some sort of rare, mythical artifact. Tara’s fingers brush over a pair of heather grey joggers, and she glances up at you with that mischievous glint you’ve come to know all too well.

“For…reasons,” she says cryptically, shooting you a playful wink that makes your cheeks warm.

“Oh, I see,” you tease, crossing your arms. “This has nothing to do with all those TikToks about guys in grey sweatpants?”

She shrugs, pretending to look innocent, but there’s no hiding the tiny grin tugging at the corner of her lips. “Well, maybe I’ve been…inspired.”

“Maybe?” you echo, raising an eyebrow. “Tara, you’ve been obsessed with those videos ever since we started dating.”

She huffs, rolling her eyes. “Okay, fine, I have! But can you blame me? I mean, just imagine…” Her voice drops to a whisper, her gaze drifting downward suggestively.

You follow her line of sight, realizing with a jolt of heat under your skin exactly what she’s talking about. You can’t help but chuckle, shaking your head at her antics.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone so excited about sweatpants before,” you say, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear.

“That’s because these aren’t just any sweatpants,” she insists, her tone serious despite the blush creeping up her cheeks. “These are…strategic sweatpants.”

You blink, trying to hide your amusement. “Strategic?”

She nods vigorously. “Yeah! They’re supposed to be like…the perfect fit. Not too tight, not too loose. Just enough to, you know…highlight the goods.”

You can’t help but laugh at her bluntness, even as your heart flutters at the thought of her wanting to showcase your assets like that.

“And you think these ones will do the trick?” you ask, motioning towards the display.

Tara grins, already reaching for a pair in your size. “Oh, definitely. Trust me, Y/N, once you put these on…you’ll understand why I’m so excited.”

You watch as she practically skips towards the changing rooms, holding out the sweatpants for you to take. There’s a glint in her eyes that promises mischief and fun, and you can’t help but smile, following her lead.

Tara practically bounces on her toes as she waits for you outside the changing room, clutching the sweatpants to her chest like they’re a precious treasure. You can hear her humming to herself, a tune that sounds suspiciously like the jingle from one of those infamous TikTok videos.

Finally, you emerge from the changing room, feeling a bit self-conscious as you model the grey joggers for her. They fit snugly around your waist, tapering down to a comfortable width at the ankle. The material is soft against your skin, and you have to admit, they feel pretty good.

But it’s the reaction on Tara’s face that really catches your attention. Her eyes widen, her mouth falling open in a perfect ‘O’ of surprise. For a moment, she seems at a loss for words, which is a rarity for her.

Then, slowly, a grin spreads across her face, growing wider and wider until she’s practically beaming at you.

“Oh my god,” she breathes, stepping closer to get a better look. “Y/N, you look…wow.”

You can feel the heat rising in your cheeks at her obvious approval. It’s not often that you’re the center of attention like this, and Tara’s undivided focus is both thrilling and a little intimidating.

“What’s so ‘wow’ about them? I’m starting to think you’re going mad.”

Tara giggles, shaking her head. "Trust me, you look amazing. I mean, seriously, how did I get so lucky?"

She reaches out, running her fingers along the waistband of the sweatpants. Her touch sends a shiver down your spine, and you suddenly find yourself acutely aware of just how close she is standing.

"It's like... they were made for you," she murmurs, her voice low and appreciative. "They just...highlight everything so perfectly.”

You feel your face flush even hotter at her words, a mix of embarrassment and pleasure coursing through you. Tara's gaze is fixed on you, her eyes dark with a hunger that makes your breath catch.

"I'm serious, Y/N," she says, her tone turning playful. "You could give those TikTok guys a run for their money. I might just have to keep you in these pants all the time."

She winks at you, a mischievous grin tugging at her lips. You laugh, shaking your head at her antics, but there's no denying the way your heart races at the thought of her wanting to keep you close.

"Alright, alright," you say, holding up your hands in mock surrender.

"Alright, alright, I guess these sweatpants are a keeper then," you chuckle, giving in to Tara's persuasive charms. "Let's go pay for them so we can get out of here." You say, disappearing back into the changing rooms.

Once you return, Tara's face lights up with pure delight, and she practically skips towards the checkout counter, clutching the sweatpants to her chest like a prized possession. You follow behind her, amused by her enthusiasm and finding yourself caught up in her excitement.

As you wait in line, Tara can't seem to stop touching the fabric of the sweatpants, running her fingers along the waistband and smoothing out the legs. It's almost like she's memorizing every detail, committing it to memory for later.

"I can't believe we found them," she says, glancing up at you with a grin. "I mean, it's like fate or something, right? Like the universe knew exactly what I needed and put them right in our path."

You roll your eyes, but you can't help the smile tugging at your lips. "Sure, Tara. The universe is totally conspiring to make you happy."

"Hey, don't knock it," she says, nudging you playfully with her elbow. "Sometimes the universe just knows what's up."

As you finally reach the front of the line, Tara practically vibrates with anticipation, her eyes darting between you and the sweatpants like she's afraid they might disappear at any moment. When the cashier rings them up, Tara practically lunges for her wallet, eager to make the purchase official.

"There," she says triumphantly, clutching the bag with the sweatpants inside like a lifeline. "Now they're mine. All mine."

You can't help but laugh at her dramatic flair, but there's a part of you that's touched by her enthusiasm. It's not often that someone gets so excited about something so simple, but with Tara, everything feels special.

"Alright, let's get out of here," you say, looping your arm through hers. "I think you've had enough excitement for one day. Crazy girl.”

As you leave the store, Tara clutches the bag containing the sweatpants like a precious treasure. She can't stop grinning, her eyes sparkling with a mischievous light that makes your heart skip a beat.

"I can't wait to see you in these," she says, her voice low and sultry as you walk side by side. "I mean, seriously, Y/N, you're going to look so hot. I might not be able to control myself.”

You feel a blush creeping up your neck at her words, a mix of embarrassment and excitement coursing through you. “You just saw them on me, dumbass.”

Tara can't help but laugh at your comment, her eyes crinkling with amusement. "Yeah, but that was in the store. I want to see you in them in...private."

Her voice drops to a whisper on the last word, and you feel a shiver run down your spine at the implication. Tara's hand finds yours, her fingers intertwining with yours as you walk.

"Come on," she says, tugging you gently towards the car. "Let's go back to my place so you can model them for me properly."

You let her lead you, your heart racing with anticipation. The drive back to Tara's apartment is filled with playful banter and stolen glances, the tension between you growing with each passing minute.

When you finally arrive, Tara practically drags you inside, her eagerness palpable. She kicks off her shoes and tosses her keys on the table by the door, then turns to you with a grin.

"Alright, Y/N," she says, her voice teasing. "Show me what you've got."

You feel a surge of confidence wash over you as you slip into the bedroom, the sweatpants hugging your curves in all the right places. When you turn to face Tara, her eyes widen, and she lets out a low whistle of appreciation.

"Damn," she breathes, taking a step closer. "I was right. You look absolutely incredible in those."

Her hands come to rest on your hips, her thumbs rubbing small circles against the fabric. You can feel the heat of her body seeping through the thin material, and it takes everything in you not to shiver.

"I think I might have to keep you in these forever," Tara murmurs, leaning in close. "Just so I can look at you like this all the time."

You can feel Tara's eyes roaming over your body, taking in every curve and every contour. There's a hunger in her gaze that sends a thrill straight to your core, and you can't help but squirm a little under her scrutiny.

"You know," she says, her voice low and husky, "I think these sweats were made for you. Like, specifically designed to show off every inch of your body."

You feel your face flush at her words, a mix of embarrassment and excitement coursing through you. It's not often that someone looks at you like this, like they want to devour you whole.

Tara's hands slide up your sides, her fingers tracing the lines of your body through the fabric of the sweatpants. You can feel the heat of her touch even through the thin material, and it makes your breath catch in your throat.

"I mean, look at you," she continues, her voice dropping to a whisper. "You're fucking perfect, Y/N. Every single inch of you."

Her hands come to rest on your hips, her thumbs rubbing small circles against your skin. You can feel the pressure building inside you, a need that's growing stronger with each passing second.

"Tara," you breathe, your voice trembling slightly. "Please..."

She doesn't need any more encouragement. In one swift motion, she's pushing you back onto the bed, her body covering yours. Her lips find yours in a searing kiss, and you moan into her mouth, your hands fisting in her shirt.

Tara breaks the kiss, trailing her lips down your neck, her teeth grazing your skin. You arch into her touch, desperate for more.

"Fuck, Y/N," she groans, her hand sliding down your body, cupping you through the sweatpants. "You're so hard already. I love how much you want me."

You gasp as she strokes you through the fabric, the friction sending sparks of pleasure through your body. Your hips buck up into her hand, seeking more of that delicious contact.

Tara's hand slips under the waistband of your sweatpants, her fingers brushing against the hot, hard length of your cock. She groans at the feel of it, her hand wrapping around you and stroking slowly from base to tip.

"God, Y/N," she murmurs, her breath hot against your neck. "You're so fucking perfect. I can't get enough of you."

Her other hand works at the button of your sweatpants, tugging them down over your hips. You lift up to help her, eager to feel her skin against yours.

Once your pants are off, Tara takes a moment to drink in the sight of you, her eyes dark with desire. "You're so beautiful," she whispers, her hand stroking you again, slower this time. "I can't believe you're all mine."

She leans down, her tongue flicking out to taste the tip of your cock. You gasp at the sensation, your hips bucking up into her touch. Tara smiles against your skin, her lips wrapping around you and taking you deep into her mouth.

You moan, your hands fisting in the sheets beneath you. Tara's mouth is hot and wet, her tongue swirling around you in a way that makes your toes curl. She bobs her head, taking you deeper with each pass, her hand stroking what she can't fit in her mouth.

Tara looks up at you with a question in her eyes as you gently push her away. She releases your throbbing length with a soft pop, her lips glistening with your precum.

"Y/N?" she asks, her voice a mixture of confusion and concern. "Is everything okay?"

You swallow hard, trying to gather your thoughts. The sight of her kneeling between your legs, her hand still wrapped around your shaft, is almost too much to bear. But you force yourself to focus, determined to give her the pleasure she deserves.

"Everything's perfect," you murmur, reaching out to cup her cheek. "But I want to focus on you for a bit. I want to make you feel good."

Understanding dawns in Tara's eyes, and a slow, sultry smile spreads across her face. "Oh, is that so?" she purrs, leaning into your touch. "Well, far be it from me to deny you."

She shifts back on her knees, allowing you to sit up. Your cock twitches at the change in position, bobbing heavily between your legs. Tara's gaze is drawn to it, her tongue darting out to wet her lips.

"Fuck, you're so hot," she breathes, her hand reaching out to wrap around you once more. "I can't believe I get to have you like this."

You groan at her touch, your hips rocking forward into her grip. But you force yourself to pull back, needing to maintain control. You reach out, gently pushing Tara onto her back, your body hovering over hers.

"Shh, just relax," you murmur, your lips brushing against her ear. "Let me take care of you."

You start by kissing her deeply, your tongue delving into her mouth to taste her. Tara moans into the kiss, her hands coming up to tangle in your hair. You trail your lips down her neck, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin.

Tara arches beneath you, her breasts pressing against your chest. You can feel her nipples hardening, even through the fabric of her shirt. Your hand slips beneath the hem, your fingers skimming over the soft skin of her stomach.

Tara gasps as your hand slides higher, your fingers brushing against the underside of her breasts. You can feel the heat of her skin even through the fabric of her bra, and it makes your mouth water with the desire to taste her.

"Y/N," she breathes, her voice thick with need. "Please, touch me."

You don't need any more encouragement. Your hand cups her breast, your thumb brushing over her nipple and making it harden even more. Tara arches into your touch, a soft moan escaping her lips.

"Fuck, that feels good," she gasps, her hips bucking up against you. "Don't stop."

You switch to her other breast, giving it the same treatment. Tara's hands fist in the sheets beneath her, her body trembling with pleasure. You can feel the heat building between your legs, your cock throbbing with the need to be inside her.

But you resist, determined to make this about her pleasure. Your hand slides down her body, over her stomach and down to the waistband of her sweats. You hook your fingers under the fabric, tugging it down slowly.

Tara lifts her hips to help you, and soon she's lying before you, completely bare. Your breath catches in your throat at the sight of her, her skin glowing in the soft light of the room.

"You're so beautiful," you murmur, your hand sliding back up her thigh. "I can't believe I get to touch you like this."

Tara's cheeks flush at your words, a shy smile spreading across her face. "I'm glad it's you," she whispers. "I trust you, Y/N. I know you'll make me feel good."

Your fingers brush against her core, and she gasps, her hips bucking up into your touch. You circle her clit with your finger, feeling it grow harder under your touch.

"Oh fuck," Tara moans, her head falling back against the pillow. "That feels amazing."

You continue to tease her, your fingers dipping lower to brush against her entrance. She's wet and ready for you, and the knowledge makes your cock throb with need.

Tara's hips buck up against your hand, her body begging for more. You can feel her wetness coating your fingers, and it takes every ounce of willpower you have not to plunge them inside her.

Instead, you focus on her clit, circling it with your thumb while your fingers tease her entrance. Tara's moans fill the room, her hands fisting in the sheets beneath her as she arches into your touch.

"Please, Y/N," she gasps, her voice strained with need. "I need more. I need you inside me."

You can't resist her pleas any longer. Sliding two fingers inside her, you groan at the feel of her tight heat surrounding you. Tara cries out, her walls clenching around your digits as you pump them in and out.

"Fuck, you're so tight," you murmur, your thumb continuing to work her clit. "I love how you feel around my fingers."

Tara's hips move in time with your thrusts, her body taking you deeper with each pass. You can feel her getting closer, her breathing growing more ragged with each passing second.

"Y/N," she moans, her head thrashing on the pillow. "I'm gonna... fuck, I'm gonna come."

You redouble your efforts, your fingers moving faster, harder. Tara's body tenses beneath you, her walls fluttering around your fingers as she teeters on the edge.

"Come for me, baby," you encourage her, your voice rough with need. "Let go. I've got you."

With a cry that's almost primal, Tara comes undone. Her body bows off the bed, her back arching as wave after wave of pleasure crashes over her. You continue to stroke her through it, prolonging her orgasm until she's a boneless heap beneath you.

As she comes down from her high, Tara looks up at you with hazy, satisfied eyes. "Holy shit," she breathes, a lazy smile spreading across her face. "That was incredible."

You grin down at her, feeling a sense of pride at having brought her such pleasure. But you’re still throbbing with need, and it won’t be go anywhere any time soon.

As the haze of post-orgasmic bliss starts to fade, Tara's gaze drifts down to your still-throbbing erection. Her eyes widen slightly, a mix of hunger and concern flickering across her face.

"Y/N," she murmurs, her hand reaching out to wrap around your shaft. "You're still so hard. Do you... do you want me to take care of that for you?"

You groan at her touch, your hips bucking up into her grip. The feel of her soft hand wrapped around your sensitive flesh is almost too much to bear. But you force yourself to take a deep breath, knowing that there's something important you need to address first.

"Wait," you say, gently removing her hand from your cock. "Before we go any further, we need to talk about protection."

Tara blinks up at you, a little confused. "Protection? What do you mean?"

You sigh, running a hand through your hair. This isn't exactly the sexiest topic, but it's a necessary one. "I mean condoms, Tara. We can't just jump into having sex without them. It's not safe."

A flicker of understanding crosses her face, followed by a sheepish grin. "Oh, right. Of course. I wasn't thinking straight."

You smile at her, relieved that she's on the same page. "It's okay. It's easy to get caught up in the moment. But we need to make sure we're being responsible.

Tara nods, her hand reaching for the nightstand drawer. She rummages around for a moment before pulling out a foil packet. "Looks like I'm prepared after all," she says with a wink.

You take the condom from her, tearing it open with your teeth. Tara watches as you roll it down over your shaft, her eyes darkening with desire at the sight.

"Fuck, that's hot," she murmurs, her hand wrapping around you once more. "Seeing you take charge like that."

You grin at her, giving her hand a squeeze. "I'm glad you approve. Now, where were we?"

Tara's eyes sparkle with mischief as she pulls you towards her, guiding you to lie on top of her once more. "I think we were right about here," she purrs, her legs parting invitingly.

The heat of her core radiates against your protected length, making you shiver with anticipation. You line yourself up with her entrance, teasing her with the tip of your cock.

"Are you ready for me?" you murmur, your breath hot against her neck.

Tara nods, her hips lifting in a silent plea. "I've never been more ready for anything in my life," she breathes, her nails digging into your shoulders.

With a slow, deliberate thrust, you push forward, feeling her tight heat envelop you. Tara gasps at the intrusion, her walls stretching to accommodate your size.

"Oh fuck," she moans, her head falling back against the pillow. "You're so big, Y/N. It feels amazing."

You groan at her words, the sensation of her tightness driving you wild. You start to move, pulling out slowly before thrusting back in, setting a steady rhythm.

Tara meets your movements, her hips rising to greet each thrust. The sound of skin against skin fills the room, punctuated by your shared moans of pleasure.

"Harder," Tara gasps, her nails raking down your back. "Fuck me harder, Y/N."

You oblige, increasing the speed and force of your thrusts. The bed creaks beneath you, the headboard slamming against the wall with each powerful drive of your hips.

Tara's legs wrap around your waist, her ankles locking at the small of your back. The new angle allows you to go even deeper, and you feel her tightening around you, signaling her impending release.

"Y/N," she cries out, her voice strained with pleasure. "I'm gonna come again. Don't stop, please don't stop."

You redouble your efforts, pounding into her with abandon. The feeling of her walls fluttering around you is almost too much to bear, and you can feel your own release building.

Tara cries out, her body arching off the bed as another orgasm rips through her. Her walls clamp down around you, milking your cock for all it's worth. The sensation is too much to bear, and with a final, guttural groan, you come undone.

Your hips stutter as you empty yourself inside the condom, your body shaking with the force of your release. Tara holds you close, her fingers threading through your hair as she whispers sweet nothings in your ear.

As you both come down from your highs, you collapse onto the bed, your bodies tangled together in a sweaty heap. Tara nuzzles into your neck, placing soft kisses along your jawline.

"That was incredible," she murmurs, her voice hoarse from screaming. "I've never felt anything like that before."

You grin at her, pulling her closer. "I'm glad you enjoyed it," you say, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "Because we're definitely doing that again.

Tara laughs, the sound bright and carefree. "I wouldn't have it any other way," she says, her fingers tracing patterns on your chest.

[echoes-of-hee]

— Off My Face LHS

PAIRING ; crush!heeseung x fem!reader

GENRE ; high school romance, angst, fluff!

TAGLIST ; @honeyybbuubblleess @heeverseblog @aubaee @hveanlyanqelic @rayofsunshineeee @honeychocos @skzenhalove

Wc ; 8.5k+

Warning(s) ; Mild language and emotional themes, including heartbreak and unrequited love.

SYNOPSIS ; You never thought sitting next to Lee Heeseung, the school’s golden boy, would change your world. The moment your teacher paired you with him for the year, a mix of excitement and nerves hit you—who wouldn’t feel that way sitting next to the most popular guy in school? Heeseung was the definition of charming: good looks, top of the class, and basically every girl's heartthrob. But you? You never really saw yourself falling for him—love just wasn’t your thing, or so you thought.

That changed real quick.

Notes. This story is based on a real experience I went through. But don’t worry though, unlike mine, this one will have a happy ending. (AHH IT'S FINALLY HERE, I COULDN'T HELP BUT TO POST IT EARLIER 😭.. ANYWAY HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO OUR BAMBI BOY!! HE'S GROWN SO MUCH 🥹, and I hope you guys enjoy this as much as i do <3

The sun streamed through the window, casting a soft golden light into the room, as laughter and chatter filled the air. The midterm exams had just ended, and all the students, still buzzing with energy, were busy talking about the exam answers. You were in the middle of chatting with your friends when the classroom door swung open, and the teacher walked in.

Immediately, the class president stood up, prompting the rest of the students to follow with a chorus of greetings. The teacher gave a brief nod, signaling for everyone to sit down, and the room fell into a hushed silence. She glanced around, her eyes settling on the group of eager faces.

"I would like to make new seat arrangements based on your grades," she began, her voice firm but calm. "And before any of you start, I'm not accepting any complaints or 'no's' from you. This is final."

A collective groan rippled through the class. You exchanged glances with your friends, rolling your eyes along with them as the usual grumbling started. "This is so unfair," someone whispered behind you. Another student muttered, "I was finally sitting next to my best friend."

The teacher started calling out names based on the new seating chart. One by one, your classmates were assigned their new spots. When it was your friend's turn, you were practically begging, whispering “Nooo,” while fake crying dramatically as she laughed along with you, both dreading the separation.

Then, it was finally your turn.

"Y/N," the teacher said, scanning her list, "you'll be sitting next to... Lee Heeseung."

Your heart skipped a beat, and your mind went blank for a second. Lee Heeseung? Of all people? You glanced over at him, sitting casually in his seat, completely unbothered. Meanwhile, your friend shot you a wide-eyed look, biting back a grin as if this were some huge inside joke.

You tried to play it cool, but inside, your stomach was doing flips. Heeseung was the guy everyone liked—smart, good-looking, and effortlessly charming. You, on the other hand, were just… you. Sitting next to him was going to be interesting, to say the least.

As students began moving to their new seats, you grabbed your stuff, your nerves creeping in. "Good luck," your friend whispered with a teasing smirk, giving your shoulder a playful nudge.

You rolled your eyes, forcing a smile. "Thanks, I'll need it."

Taking a deep breath, you made your way to your new seat next to Heeseung. He looked up as you approached, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

"Looks like we’re seatmates," he said casually, shifting to make room for you.

"Yeah, lucky me," you mumbled, trying not to sound too awkward as you sat down. You could feel the curious glances from your classmates, and your friend was definitely still staring from across the room.

This was going to be an interesting year.

The lesson started, and the awkward tension between you and Heeseung was palpable. You could feel it hanging in the air like an invisible wall, both of you too polite to acknowledge it. As usual, the teacher began calling out names to read from the textbook, and you silently prayed yours wouldn’t be next. The last thing you needed was to embarrass yourself in front of him.

Your heart raced as the teacher continued down the list, getting closer and closer. You could feel the nervousness creeping in, and the fact that Heeseung was sitting right next to you only made it worse. What if you stuttered? What if you sounded dumb? What if Heeseung thought you were weird or—

“Y/N!” the teacher’s voice cut through your anxious thoughts.

"Shit," you muttered under your breath, eyes widening in panic. Your hands suddenly felt clammy as you fumbled to find the right page, the sound of your heartbeat almost deafening. You could feel Heeseung glance at you, probably sensing your nerves.

Taking a shaky breath, you started reading, praying your voice wouldn’t betray you.

Luckily, you didn’t stumble over the words, but your voice was practically shaking as you read aloud. Each sentence felt like it dragged on forever, and you were hyper-aware of every small mistake you thought you made. You could feel your face getting warmer, but you powered through, forcing yourself to stay calm.

When you finally finished, the teacher nodded and moved on to the next student. Relief washed over you, but not before you snuck a quick glance at Heeseung. He wasn’t laughing or smirking like you feared—he was just listening, completely unfazed.

"Not bad," he whispered quietly enough so only you could hear, a small smile playing on his lips.

You blinked, surprised. "Uh, thanks," you mumbled back, feeling your face heat up even more. Was that… a compliment?

As the lesson continued, you couldn’t help but feel slightly more relaxed. Maybe sitting next to Heeseung wasn’t going to be as terrifying as you thought.

The bell rang, signaling the start of recess, and the classroom immediately buzzed with movement. Everyone was quick to get up from their seats, excited to escape the lesson and catch up with their friends. You didn’t even spare a glance at Heeseung as you hurried out of the room, spotting your friends waiting for you just outside.

You all made your way to your usual table in the corner of the cafeteria, chatting and laughing as you settled in. It was your routine—your little spot, away from the chaos of the rest of the school.

"Oh my god," one of your friends groaned, breaking the flow of conversation. "Why does it have to be a boy sitting next to me? I hate this so much!"

"For real!" another friend chimed in, nodding along. "But I’m lucky. My seatmate’s someone I actually know, so I’m good."

Then, your friend turned to you, a teasing smirk already forming on her face. "What about you, Y/N? How do you feel about your new seatmate?"

You felt all eyes on you, and you immediately knew they were about to make this a big deal. With a small shrug, you tried to play it cool. "It’s… fine, I guess?"

But your friend wasn’t letting you off that easily. "C’mon," she leaned in, her grin widening. "You’re sitting next to Lee Heeseung. You can’t tell me that’s just ‘fine.’ What’s it like being next to Mr. Perfect?"

You rolled your eyes, trying to hide your embarrassment. "It’s not that deep," you said, but deep down, you knew this was only the beginning of their teasing.

Your friend wasn’t buying it, and the teasing only intensified. “Not that deep?” she repeated with a laugh, giving you a playful nudge. “Girl, please. You’ve got front-row seats to the Lee Heeseung every single day.”

Another one of your friends joined in, eyes sparkling with amusement. “Yeah, don’t act like you don’t notice the way the girls practically swoon over him. He’s like the school’s It boy.”

You sighed, knowing you weren’t going to escape this. “Okay, yeah, he’s popular and all, but it’s not like I’m gonna suddenly fall for him just because we’re seatmates.”

Your friends exchanged knowing glances, and you could tell they were holding back smirks. “Sure, sure,” one of them said, drawing out the words. “We’ll see how long that lasts.”

Before you could protest, another one added, “Just don’t fall too hard when he starts helping you with math or something. I can already picture the movie moment where he leans over your desk, all close and—”

You covered your face, groaning. “Can we not do this?”

But they were having too much fun now. “We’re just looking out for you,” your friend teased. “You know, so when the romance sparks start flying, you’re not totally caught off guard.”

You rolled your eyes, but deep down, their teasing left a slight flutter in your chest. Sure, Heeseung was charming and popular, but that didn’t mean anything would actually happen between you two… right?

Or at least, that’s what you kept telling yourself.

The following weeks felt like a blur, almost like you were floating through a dream. You and Heeseung were still awkward around each other, but somehow, he always found a way to make things less tense. He’d casually help you out during class or lean over to ask for answers to questions he didn’t know, and you’d try to keep your cool, even though your heart raced every time.

Each time he spoke to you, you felt your nerves spike. Eye contact? That was a whole other challenge. Sure, you managed to look him in the eye once or twice, but it was always for a brief moment before you quickly glanced away, pretending to be focused on something else.

You played it cool, or at least you hoped you did. On the outside, you kept your composure, nodding along and responding like it was no big deal. But inside, your thoughts were a whirlwind. How was he so effortlessly charming, and why was it so hard for you to act normal around him?

Heeseung, on the other hand, didn’t seem fazed at all. He would flash his easy-going smile whenever he helped you, and if he noticed your awkwardness, he didn’t show it. Instead, he’d just laugh lightly and say something like, "Don't worry, I get it," making you wonder if he somehow knew you were struggling to keep it together.

Despite the awkwardness, there was something about those moments that made you look forward to seeing him each day. But you weren’t about to let yourself get carried away—at least, that’s what you kept telling yourself.

It was science class, and you found yourself once again partnered with Heeseung, this time in a group of five. The group quickly arranged the tasks, deciding who would handle each part of the experiment. You were assigned the responsibility of writing the experimental notes—the detailed steps and observations that had to be recorded.

While the others were busy with the actual hands-on part of the experiment, you sat quietly, jotting down what you could. The room was filled with the sounds of bubbling chemicals, clinking glassware, and quiet murmurs from other groups. You were focused on your writing when you heard someone approach.

"Y/n?" It was Heeseung’s voice.

You glanced up, heart skipping slightly. "Yeah?" you responded, trying to sound casual.

Heeseung leaned over slightly, pointing at the notes. "The next step for the experiment involves using the eraser. It’s to demonstrate static charge. You know, like in the second part of the list.”

You paused, staring at him for a moment, feeling a wave of confusion wash over you. Wait, what? You glanced down at your notes, feeling a bit lost. How did you miss that? Your eyes flickered with nervousness, and you looked back up at him, biting your lip. "Uh... could you repeat that again?"

You felt a pang of embarrassment, wondering how such a simple thing slipped past you. Before you could spiral into overthinking, Heeseung chuckled lightly, his expression softening. He leaned in just slightly closer and started explaining again, this time slower and more patiently.

“It’s not a big deal,” he said calmly, as if sensing your nerves. “We just need to use the eraser to create static for the next part of the experiment. It’s basically to show how the charge affects the materials. Simple stuff.”

You blinked, finally grasping what he was saying. "Ahh, okay, I get it now," you said, nodding along, relieved that he explained it in such a kind way without making you feel dumb.

Heeseung gave you a reassuring smile before going back to the group. For a brief moment, you let out a breath, thankful that he didn’t make a big deal out of it.

You watched as Heeseung returned to the group, his presence effortlessly drawing everyone's attention. It amazed you how naturally he navigated through the chaos of the experiment, guiding the others and laughing at the little mishaps along the way. You couldn’t help but admire how he managed to make even the most mundane tasks seem fun.

With newfound focus, you returned to your notes, writing down the steps as clearly as you could. The warmth from Heeseung’s smile lingered in your mind, and you felt a little more confident. Maybe this partnership wouldn’t be so bad after all.

As the experiment continued, you occasionally glanced at Heeseung. He was genuinely engaged, explaining concepts to his teammates while effortlessly keeping the atmosphere light. You found yourself smiling at how he could turn the stress of science class into something enjoyable.

“Y/N, can you hand me that beaker?” one of your group members called out, pulling you from your thoughts.

“Sure!” you replied, grabbing the beaker and passing it over. But as you did, you caught Heeseung’s eye again. He gave you a small thumbs-up, as if acknowledging your contribution. Your heart fluttered, and you quickly looked away, pretending to focus on your notes.

As the class went on, Heeseung began to engage with you more. “Hey, what’s the next step?” he asked, leaning over slightly to peek at your notes.

You pointed to the relevant section, trying to sound confident. “We just need to record the results from the static charge experiment. Then we’ll analyze the data.”

He nodded, and as he leaned in closer, you felt the heat rising in your cheeks. “You’re really good at this, you know,” he said, his voice low enough for only you to hear.

You felt a mix of pride and embarrassment. “Thanks, but I’m just following the instructions,” you replied, trying to brush it off.

Heeseung shrugged, his gaze steady. “Still, it takes a lot to keep everything organized like this. You’re doing great.”

His compliment caught you off guard, and you found yourself unable to respond immediately. Instead, you just nodded, a smile creeping onto your face despite your attempts to play it cool.

As the bell rang, signaling the end of class, you felt a sense of reluctance wash over you. You packed your things, glancing at Heeseung one last time as he gathered his own materials. He caught your eye and smiled again, a soft, genuine smile that made your heart race.

“See you tomorrow, Y/N,” he said, his voice light.

“Yeah, see you,” you replied, trying to sound casual, even as you walked out of the classroom feeling giddy. Maybe, just maybe, this partnership was turning into something more than you ever expected.

It was PE time, and you and your friends lounged in the garden, talking and laughing like typical teenagers. The sun filtered through the leaves, casting dappled shadows on the ground, creating a perfect backdrop for your carefree moments together. Yet, despite the joy around you, your thoughts kept drifting back to Heeseung. Each day, it felt like you were falling deeper for him, and the realization was both exhilarating and terrifying.

You couldn’t shake the feeling that he wasn’t really a match for you. You and Heeseung felt like the skies and the ground—so different in every way. He was the charming, good-looking star everyone adored, while you were just... well, average. You were pretty enough, sure, but he was on a whole different level. It felt hopeless to even think about the possibility of something between you.

Just as you were lost in these thoughts, your friend interrupted you. "baby girl, you good?" she asked, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

You couldn’t help but chuckle, a little weirded out by the sudden nickname. “Yeah, I’m good,” you replied, trying to brush off your inner turmoil.

But your friend wasn’t convinced. She stared at you, a knowing look in her eyes that made you squirm. “Oh yeah? You sure it wasn’t about Heeseung you were thinking about?”

Your eyes widened in surprise. “How did you know...?”

She laughed, clearly enjoying your reaction. “Girl, please. It’s written all over your face! You’re practically glowing at the mention of his name. You’re like a total lovesick puppy.”

You felt heat rush to your cheeks, and you buried your face in your hands, groaning. “Okay, okay! Maybe I was thinking about him. But it’s not like it matters, He’s out of my league..”

Your friend waved her hands dismissively. “Stop with that nonsense! You never know what could happen. Besides, you guys are paired up for the whole year. That’s practically fate!”

“Fate?” you echoed, trying to suppress a laugh. “That sounds way too dramatic.”

“Dramatic is my middle name,” she declared, striking a pose that made you giggle. “But seriously, you need to at least admit you have a crush on him.”

You shook your head, though you couldn’t suppress the smile forming on your lips. “Fine, maybe I have a little crush. But that doesn’t change anything. He’s still Heeseung, and I’m still… well, me.”

Your friend rolled her eyes, clearly exasperated. “Stop doubting yourself y/n, you’re amazing just the way you are. Just remember, confidence is key. If you like him, you should just go for it!”

You couldn’t help but think about what she said. Maybe there was a chance, however slim, that things could change. With that thought lingering in your mind, you looked up to see Heeseung walking across the field, laughing with his friends. Your heart raced, and you quickly turned away, trying to mask the flutter of excitement.

Your friend nudged you, her voice low and teasing. “Look! There he is. Are you going to keep pretending you don’t like him huh?”

You let out a laugh, a mix of embarrassment and exhilaration. “Shut up! Just let me think for a second.”

But as you watched him from a distance, you couldn’t help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, there was a chance for you after all.

One week later, your teacher announced that you guys would be having a practice speaking test.

The day finally came, and it was your group’s turn for the test. You had spent the previous night practicing in front of the mirror, trying to perfect your pronunciation, gestures, and confidence. You told yourself over and over that everything would be fine, that you’d get through this without any issues. You were sure of it. Or at least, that’s what you thought.

As the test began, you watched Heeseung go first, his delivery smooth and effortless. He spoke with such ease, barely pausing for breath, his voice calm and composed. Every word was clear, and you couldn’t help but admire how flawless he was under pressure. Of course, Heeseung would ace this, like he did with everything else.

When he finished, the teacher nodded in approval, and your heart sank. Now it was your turn.

You took a deep breath and stood up, feeling the weight of everyone’s eyes on you. Just relax, you got this, you thought, trying to calm your racing heart. But the moment you opened your mouth to speak, your mind went blank.

For a split second, you stood there frozen, staring at the paper in front of you. No, no, no. Not now, you panicked internally. You had practiced this a hundred times last night, and now the words seemed to have disappeared completely.

Glancing over at Heeseung, you saw him looking at you with a reassuring smile, as if silently telling you that you could do this. His confidence somehow made you feel even more nervous. What if you failed? What if he thought you were a complete mess?

You cleared your throat and started speaking, but your voice wavered slightly, betraying your nerves. You tried to push through, but the pressure was overwhelming. Halfway through, you stumbled over your words, losing your train of thought completely.

Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment, and you could feel your palms getting sweaty. The silence in the room was deafening, and you desperately wished you could disappear. But then, you heard a soft whisper next to you.

“Talk about the part where…” Heeseung whispered quietly, his voice just low enough for only you to hear.

You blinked, snapping out of your daze. His words nudged you in the right direction, reminding you of the next point you needed to make. You picked up where you left off, feeling a bit more grounded thanks to his subtle help.

You managed to finish your part, though not as smoothly as you had hoped, but it was done. The teacher gave a nod of approval, and you finally sat back down, letting out a sigh of relief.

Heeseung glanced at you with a knowing smile, and you mouthed a quick “thank you” to him. He just winked, his expression relaxed and calm, as if what he did was no big deal.

And maybe to him it wasn’t, but to you, it meant everything.

The bell rang, signaling the end of class, and you gathered your things, still feeling the rush of relief from having survived the speaking test. Your heart hadn’t stopped racing since you sat back down. Heeseung’s small act of kindness played over and over in your head, and you couldn’t help but feel a little flustered.

As you were putting your books into your bag, Heeseung casually leaned over. "You did fine, you know?" he said with a small smile, his voice gentle.

You blinked, looking up at him. "I don’t know about that… but thanks. I almost messed it up completely."

He shrugged, still smiling. "Everyone gets nervous. Besides, you recovered. That’s what matters."

You felt your face heat up again, the nerves from earlier creeping back in but for a different reason. There was something about the way he spoke so casually to you, like it was the easiest thing in the world, that made you feel... seen. And not in a bad way, but in a way that made you want to hide and smile at the same time.

"Thanks," you said again, your voice softer this time.

He nodded, picking up his bag and slinging it over his shoulder. "See you tomorrow, Y/N," he said before walking out of the classroom, his steps unhurried, as if he had all the time in the world.

You stood there for a moment, watching him leave, the small interaction replaying in your mind. It wasn’t anything grand, but it was enough to leave you standing there, your heart doing flips.

As you met up with your friends in the hallway, they immediately bombarded you with questions. "How was the test? Did you survive?" one of them asked, clearly joking but knowing full well how nervous you’d been.

You laughed, though it was a little shaky. "Barely. I messed up, but it wasn’t as bad as I thought it’d be."

Your friend smirked, her eyes narrowing playfully. "And how was Heeseung? You guys were partnered up again, right?"

At the mention of his name, your heart did a weird little jump. "Yeah, he was fine. Helped me out a bit, actually," you admitted, trying to keep your voice nonchalant.

Your friends exchanged looks, their smirks growing wider. "Oh, really? He helped you out? How sweet," they teased, clearly enjoying the flustered look on your face.

"Shut up," you muttered, feeling your cheeks heat up again. "It wasn’t a big deal."

But deep down, you knew it was a big deal to you. Every small moment with Heeseung felt significant, like they were adding up to something bigger, something you weren’t quite ready to admit.

As you walked through the hallways with your friends, laughing and joking like you always did, you couldn’t help but think back to the way Heeseung had smiled at you after the test. Maybe it was nothing, just him being nice, but maybe—just maybe—it was something more.

And that thought stayed with you, lingering in the back of your mind long after the school day ended.

Weeks had passed, turning into months, and the feelings you had tried so hard to ignore began to grow stronger. You had fallen for Heeseung. It was impossible not to—the way he always approached you with that warm, easy smile, how he helped you with subjects you struggled with, and those fleeting glances he’d give you whenever you bumped into each other in the halls. You started to believe that maybe—just maybe—he was interested in you, too.

You found yourself talking about him with your friends every day, the smallest interactions suddenly feeling like monumental moments. You would gush over the way he spoke to you, the way he seemed to make everything around him brighter. Your friends teased you, calling it a classic high school crush, but to you, it felt like something more. Something real.

But one day, everything came crashing down.

You were absent from school on Monday, feeling under the weather, but by Tuesday, you were back. As usual, you arrived late, sneaking into class and slipping into your seat quietly. Your eyes scanned the room, searching for him like you always did. When you found him, he was sitting with his friends, talking and laughing as usual. For a brief moment, your heart warmed at the sight, the same butterflies fluttering inside you.

But then, you saw her.

Aera, one of your classmates, walked into the classroom, and you noticed how Heeseung’s friends immediately nudged him, teasing smiles on their faces as she passed by them. Heeseung’s face lit up, his eyes following her for a second too long. It was subtle, but you caught it.

That pang in your chest hit you like a ton of bricks.

You stared, frozen in your seat, watching as the scene unfolded in front of you. Heeseung chuckled, running a hand through his hair as his friends continued to nudge him, clearly teasing him about Aera. You didn’t need to hear what they were saying to know what it was about.

It was so obvious.

The way his friends teased him when she walked by, the way Heeseung didn’t deny it but instead just laughed along—it all made sense now. The realization hit you like a punch to the gut. The occasional glances, the small smiles, the casual conversations… they weren’t special, at least not the way you thought they were. They were just… normal.

You felt your stomach twist, a wave of nausea washing over you as the truth settled in. He wasn’t interested in you. He was interested in her.

For the rest of the day, that pang in your chest refused to go away. You tried to focus on class, on anything but him, but it was impossible. Every time you glanced in his direction, you saw him laughing with his friends, glancing at Aera when he thought no one was looking.

And just like that, the small world you had built in your head—where maybe Heeseung liked you back—came crashing down.

You plopped onto your bed, your heart aching as tears began to well up in your eyes. The overwhelming emotions you’d been bottling up finally spilled over. “Why does this hurt so much?” you sobbed, pulling your knees to your chest and burying your face in them. Each sob seemed to echo the ache deep in your chest, and you couldn’t stop the flood of tears that followed.

You tilted your head to the side, staring blankly at the wall as the pieces fell into place. So this is why… you thought bitterly. This is why Heeseung always teased Aera, why he would borrow her school supplies when he could’ve easily asked you. You replayed the small moments in your head, moments where you thought he was being distant, but now you realized it wasn’t distance—it was focus. Focus on her, not you.

Every little thing made sense now, and with that realization came an even deeper sense of pain. He wasn’t shy around you; he simply didn’t feel anything special toward you. He wasn’t nervous when you caught him glancing your way; he was probably looking past you to catch a glimpse of her.

You chuckled bitterly, the sound hollow and broken. “How pathetic…” you whispered, wiping away another tear. You had been so naive, thinking that he was interested in you. You convinced yourself that his little acts of kindness meant more than they did. The way he helped you during the speaking test, the fleeting eye contact, the small smiles—they were nothing but common decency.

Your tears blurred your vision as you thought back to every moment you’d replayed in your head over the past months, building it up into something that it never was. You were just a hopeless romantic, falling for someone who was never meant to fall for you.

The next day, you barely dragged yourself out of bed. The thought of going to school, facing Heeseung and Aera, felt unbearable. You were emotionally drained from staying up all night, crying over him—how stupid it seemed in hindsight. But feelings couldn’t be forced, and your heart ached in ways you hadn’t anticipated.

When you finally made it to school, you kept your head down, blending into the background as much as possible. The day went by in a blur, each lesson blending into the next. Every time the teacher left the classroom, you could hear Heeseung’s friends snickering and teasing him whenever Aera was nearby. It stung, and only God knew how much you wanted to disappear every time they talked. The painful reality was right in front of you, and there was no escaping it.

You weren’t sure how you managed to hold it together. You felt like a mess, like you were barely keeping it together. And it must have shown, because at some point, Heeseung glanced at you, concern flickering across his face.

"Hey, are you okay?" he asked softly.

Is it that obvious? you thought. You didn’t trust yourself to speak much, so you just nodded, not even sparing him a glance. You couldn’t.

Math class rolled around, and as usual, you were struggling. Numbers and formulas swam before your tired eyes, but today, you didn’t even consider asking for Heeseung’s help like you usually did. There was no way you could face him, not after everything. Instead, you kept your head down, trying to make sense of the problem in front of you, even though it felt like trying to read a foreign language.

"You need help with that?" His voice broke through the silence, and for a split second, your heart twinged at the familiarity of it.

But you shook your head quickly, keeping your eyes glued to the textbook. "No, I can manage," you muttered, even though you knew you couldn’t.

There was a pause, and you could feel him watching you. "Alright," he said, sounding slightly hesitant, "just tell me if you need help. I'm always here."

You didn't respond. You didn’t have the energy to. All you could do was nod, your eyes still fixed on the page in front of you. His words echoed in your head—I'm always here—but they felt hollow now. It was like the safety net you once felt around him had disappeared, replaced by the reality that his attention was somewhere else, on someone else.

You bit your lip, swallowing down the lump in your throat. You were going to get through this. You had to. But right now, everything still hurt.

The rest of the day dragged on painfully. You went through the motions—attending classes, taking notes, and exchanging small talk with your friends—but your mind was elsewhere, fixated on the ache in your chest. Every time Heeseung laughed with his friends or shared a casual smile with Aera, it felt like a fresh stab to your heart.

By the time the final bell rang, signaling the end of the school day, you were more than ready to leave. You packed your things quickly, avoiding any lingering glances in Heeseung’s direction. Your friends noticed your quieter-than-usual demeanor, but they didn’t press you too much. You gave them a half-hearted smile and told them you were just tired.

As you walked home, the familiar streets blurred in your peripheral vision. The conversations and laughter from your classmates echoed in your mind, but you felt distant from it all. You replayed Heeseung’s words in math class, the way he had offered to help like he always did. It was almost painful how effortlessly kind he was, even when you were trying to distance yourself.

By the time you reached your house, the emotional exhaustion had fully set in. You threw your bag onto the floor, kicked off your shoes, and collapsed onto your bed once more. The quiet of your room wrapped around you like a comforting blanket, but it didn’t erase the feelings bubbling just beneath the surface.

You stared at the ceiling, thoughts spinning. Why did I have to fall for him? you wondered for what felt like the hundredth time. Heeseung was everything you could’ve asked for in a person—kind, smart, charming. But the reality was, you were just a background character in his story. No matter how much you wished it were different, Aera was the one who held his attention.

You rolled onto your side, hugging your pillow tightly as a fresh wave of sadness washed over you. It wasn’t fair, but you knew life wasn’t about fairness. You’d get over this, eventually, but right now, it just hurt.

Before you could sink further into your thoughts, your phone buzzed beside you. You reached over to check it, blinking at the screen. It was a message from one of your friends.

Bestiee<3: “Are you okay? You seemed kinda off today. Let’s hang out this weekend, okay? We can binge some shows and forget about school for a while. 🫶”

You smiled weakly at the text, appreciating the gesture. Maybe you did need a break, a chance to step away from everything and focus on yourself for a bit.

You: “Yeah, sounds good. Thanks for checking in.”

You put your phone down and sighed. Maybe hanging out with your friends could help distract you from the mess of feelings swirling inside. Maybe you just needed time, a reminder that your world wasn’t falling apart—at least not completely.

But for now, you let the quiet fill the room again, allowing yourself to feel whatever it was you needed to feel. Tomorrow was another day and maybe, it would hurt a little less.

You had fun hanging out with your friends over the week, trying to distract yourself from the lingering hurt in your heart. After all, you were just a human with feelings, and it was hard to shake off the emotional weight that Heeseung’s unexpected interest in Aera had brought.

As Heeseung's birthday approached, he invited you to his party. You wavered, unsure if you should go, especially since Aera would likely be there. But in the end, you forced yourself to attend, not wanting to let your own insecurities ruin a chance to celebrate someone you cared about.

You decided to buy him a beanie—something he had once casually mentioned loving during a conversation.

“What’s your favorite stuff?” you had asked, genuinely curious.

“Why do you ask?” He had chuckled, raising an eyebrow.

“Just curious,” you replied, keeping it light.

“Hmmm, I like stuff like beanies?” he said with a smile.

“A beanie lover, I see?” you teased back.

“You could say that,” he laughed, and in that moment, you felt a warmth inside, a flicker of hope that maybe, just maybe, he noticed you too.

The day of the party arrived, and you found yourself standing in front of his house, heart racing. His maid greeted you at the door, a welcoming smile on her face.

“Mr. Lee is currently with his friends. You can go around the house and have fun,” she said.

“Okay, thank you!” you replied, trying to sound upbeat while gripping the gift a little tighter.

Just then, someone touched your shoulder, making you jump slightly. You turned to see one of Heeseung's friends, a friendly smile on his face.

“Hey, y/n, right?” he asked.

“Uh, yeah, and… you are?” you replied, forcing a smile that felt a little shaky.

“I’m Jake, Heeseung’s friend. C’mon, let’s go upstairs. Heeseung and the others are there too.”

“Alright!” you nodded, following him as you tried to suppress your nerves.

As you both ascended the staircase, the sound of laughter and chatter grew louder. Jake opened the door, revealing Heeseung surrounded by his friends, and—your stomach dropped—Aera was there too.

You gulped, feeling a wave of nervousness wash over you as you gripped the gift tighter, your heart racing.

“Heeseung!” Jake called, and your gaze met Heeseung’s.

His face lit up, a wide grin spreading across his features. “Y/n! You made it!”

“Hey,” you said, forcing a smile, though your heart felt heavy.

“Come in! We’re just about to start the games!” he said, motioning for you to enter.

You stepped inside, trying to shake off the nerves. The atmosphere was lively, filled with excitement and laughter, but as you caught sight of Aera leaning closer to Heeseung, the pang in your heart returned. You took a deep breath, reminding yourself to enjoy the night, even if it was bittersweet.

You found yourself sitting on the couch, watching the group play games, trying to force a smile as laughter filled the room. But each joyful sound felt like a dagger in your heart. Your gaze drifted to Heeseung, who was seated next to Aera. The sight of them together was almost unbearable. They leaned into each other, sharing jokes and secrets that felt intimate.

Heeseung leaned closer to Aera, whispering something in her ear that made her laugh—a sound so light and carefree, it sent a pang of longing through you. As she playfully touched his arm, you noticed a faint blush creeping onto his cheeks. That was the final straw. You had thought you could handle this, that you had moved on at least a little, but it was clear you hadn’t.

With a heavy heart, you got up from the couch, the laughter around you fading into a dull hum. You left his gift on the table, a beanie wrapped neatly in colorful paper, and turned to leave.

“Y/N?” you heard Heeseung call out, but the sound felt distant as you stepped out of the room. You staggered down the stairs, your heart racing, desperate to escape the painful scene.

Once outside, you reached for your phone, your fingers shaking as you called an Uber. As you waited, you could feel tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, but you blinked them back, determined to hold it together.

The car pulled up, and you quickly climbed in, giving the driver your address in a barely audible whisper. As the car drove away, you stared out the window, watching the lights of the city blur together. The ache in your chest was unbearable, and you couldn’t help but wonder if you’d ever really be able to move on from Heeseung.

You were absent for the whole week, locking yourself in your room and feeling like you were rotting away. Your parents were worried, knocking on your door to encourage you to eat breakfast and dinner, but you kept silent, too engulfed in your own thoughts to respond. You ignored all your friends' calls and messages, including Heeseung's. His voice echoed in your mind—concerned, maybe even a little confused—but you couldn’t bring yourself to answer.

After days of isolation, you finally decided to return to school. You knew this wasn’t right; losing yourself over a boy wasn’t okay. You shouldn’t let your feelings for Heeseung consume you like this. So, with a heavy heart and a resolve to reclaim your life, you reluctantly headed to school.

The moment you stepped inside, you could feel Heeseung's gaze on you. Your heart raced as you glanced his way, and for a moment, everything felt overwhelming again. He furrowed his brows in concern, looking back at you with an intensity that made you want to look away.

You had told your teacher that you wanted to change seats because you couldn’t focus being so close to him. You had begged her over and over until she finally relented, and now you were grateful for that distance.

You settled into your new seat, avoiding his eyes as you rested your head on your arms, trying to shield yourself from the onslaught of emotions. The classroom felt different, quieter somehow, as if the air had thickened with the unspoken tension between you. Despite the chatter of your classmates, all you could think about was how much you missed the comfort of Heeseung's presence—yet how painful it had become to be near him.

As the lesson began, you could feel Heeseung's eyes occasionally flickering towards you, a subtle reminder that he was still there, still worried. But you kept your gaze fixed on the teacher, focusing on the words spilling from her mouth, willing yourself to forget everything else, if only for a moment.

The lesson droned on, but you struggled to concentrate. Your mind kept wandering back to Heeseung—the way he smiled, the sound of his laughter, and the warmth of his presence. Each fleeting memory felt like a double-edged sword, cutting deeper into your resolve to move on.

Suddenly, the bell rang, signaling the end of class. Students started to gather their things, but you remained still, unwilling to face the inevitable rush of conversations and glances. You heard Heeseung’s voice, low and tentative, cutting through the chatter.

“Y/N,” he called softly, his tone filled with concern. You could feel his eyes on you, and the warmth of his gaze was both comforting and painful.

You took a deep breath, pretending to rummage through your backpack as if you hadn’t heard him. You didn’t want to face him—not yet. But as you stood up to leave, you felt a presence beside you. It was Heeseung, standing a mere foot away, his expression serious.

“Can we talk?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

You hesitated, heart racing. Part of you wanted to say yes, to hear what he had to say, but another part feared that it would only lead to more heartache.

“Y/N, please,” he pressed, his eyes searching yours for a flicker of acknowledgment. You finally met his gaze and saw the worry etched on his face.

“Fine.” you replied, your heart pounding in your chest. You followed him out of the classroom and into the hallway, where the noise of students chatting and laughing surrounded you like a whirlwind.

He led you to a quieter corner, away from prying eyes. The air felt thick with tension as you both stood there, unsure of how to start.

“I’ve been worried about you,” Heeseung said, breaking the silence. “You disappeared for a week. I tried to reach you, but… you didn’t answer.”

You looked down, unable to meet his gaze. “I just needed some time to myself.”

“Is it about Aera?”

Your eyes flickered with a mix of shock and frustration. “No.”

Heeseung stepped closer, concern deepening in his eyes. “Y/N, it’s not what you think. Aera and I… we’re just friends. I didn’t mean to make you feel that way.”

“Look, Heeseung, I don’t know what you’re talking about. Just leave me alone. Please.”

His expression shifted, confusion and hurt crossing his features. “Y/N, I—”

“I said I need space!” you interrupted, your voice sharper than intended.

Heeseung paused, taking a step back as if your words had struck him. “Okay, I get it. Just… know that I care about you.”

With that, he turned away, leaving you in the quiet corner, your heart racing from the confrontation. You felt a mix of anger and sadness wash over you, but deep down, you knew that you needed to process your feelings on your own.

As you walked away, you could still feel the weight of his gaze lingering on you, but you steeled yourself, determined to navigate through this turmoil alone, at least for now.

A month later, graduation was approaching, and you hadn’t spoken to Heeseung since that fateful day. You did your best to ignore him, avoiding him at all costs. But if you were honest with yourself, you missed his presence. The vibrant energy he brought into your life felt absent, leaving a void that you couldn’t quite fill.

You had blocked him on all social media, determined to cut ties and free yourself from any concern about him. Yet, as days passed, you noticed something strange: Heeseung and Aera were no longer seen together. You wondered what had happened between them but quickly brushed it off as not being your problem. They were probably just busy or having private conversations.

As graduation day approached, your class decided to throw a party to celebrate. You wore a simple yet elegant dress that made you feel confident and beautiful. The fabric flowed with each movement, accentuating your figure while remaining understated. Laughter filled the room as you and your friends joked around, but you couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched. You decided to excuse yourself, needing some fresh air away from the noise.

Stepping onto the balcony, you took a deep breath, letting the cool night air wash over you. The stars twinkled brightly above, reminding you of countless moments spent with Heeseung, those late-night conversations filled with dreams and laughter. You gazed up at the endless sky, pondering what the future held—what your job would be and who your soulmate might turn out to be.

Your moment of tranquility was suddenly disrupted when the door swung open, and someone stepped outside. You turned to see who it was, and your breath caught in your throat. It was Heeseung, the very person you had been avoiding for months.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper, filled with uncertainty.

You shifted uncomfortably, unsure how to react. “What are you doing here, Heeseung?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady, but the tremor betrayed your nerves.

He stepped closer, his hands stuffed deep into his pockets, a nervous habit you had come to recognize. “I’ve been thinking a lot since we last talked. I wanted to talk to you… I-i need to get something off my chest.”

You folded your arms, feeling a mix of apprehension and curiosity. “What is it?”

He hesitated for a moment, searching for the right words. “I liked Aera at one point. Sure she was fun, and I thought I could see a future with her. But the more time I spent with her, the more I realized… she wasn’t the one I truly wanted.”

Your heart raced, unsure where this was going. You could feel the tension in the air, thick with unspoken words.

He continued, glancing down as if searching for courage. “I thought maybe it was just a crush, but then I realized I was just trying to fill a void. It was you I missed, Y/N. Your laughter, your kindness, the way you make everything feel brighter. You’ve been the one on my mind all along, and it’s time I finally admit it.”

He shifted on his feet, his cheeks slightly flushed as he caught your gaze. The sincerity in his eyes was unmistakable. “I fell in love with you, Y/N. I didn’t understand it at first, but now I can’t ignore it anymore. I’ve realized that you’re the one I’ve been longing for.”

You stood there, taken aback by his confession. The mix of feelings you had buried came rushing back, a wave of confusion, hope, and the remnants of your heartache.

“I pushed you away, and I’m sorry for that,” he added, taking a small step forward, his gaze locking onto yours. “You mean more to me than I realized. I just… I really love you, Y/N.”

You took a breath, feeling the weight of his words settle in your heart. Memories flooded your mind: the way he made you laugh, how he always knew what to say to brighten your day, and the comfort of his presence. You remembered the late-night study sessions, the deep conversations about dreams and fears, and how easy it was to be around him.

“Honestly, Heeseung,” you began, your voice trembling slightly, “I’ve missed you too. I didn’t want to admit it, but I’ve been thinking about you a lot. I tried to push you out of my mind, but it just didn’t work. I just… I didn’t know how to handle everything.”

Heeseung’s expression softened, relief washing over his face. “You mean that?”

“Yeah,” you admitted, your cheeks warming. “I thought I could just move on, but it hasn’t been the same without you. I guess… I was scared.”

Heeseung took another step closer, hope shining in his gaze. “Scared of what?”

“Scared that I’d let myself feel something for you again, and then it would hurt even more if it didn’t work out,” you confessed, vulnerability pouring from you.

Heeseung’s gaze deepened as he listened intently, his eyes reflecting a mixture of understanding and longing. “I get it. I’ve felt the same way. But I’m here now, and I want to try. I don’t want to lose you again.”

Your heart swelled at his words, the familiar warmth spreading through you. “I don’t want to lose you either.”

In that moment, the distance that had felt insurmountable shrank, leaving only the two of you in a world filled with possibilities. Heeseung’s fingers brushed against your arm, sending a spark of electricity through you.

“Can we start over?” he asked, his voice low and sincere. “Take it slow this time?”

You nodded, feeling a rush of excitement. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

As the night sky stretched above you, you both stood together, the weight of unspoken words finally lifted. The gentle breeze rustled the leaves around you, a soothing reminder of the passage of time. Heeseung shifted closer, his shoulder brushing against yours, and the warmth of his presence enveloped you.

“Remember when we used to talk about our dreams?” he asked, a nostalgic smile creeping onto his lips. “I used to think about how nice it would be to share those moments with someone special.”

You couldn’t help but smile back, recalling the late-night conversations that had felt so effortless. “Yeah, I remember. We talked about traveling, our goals, and even silly things like our favorite ice cream flavors.”

He chuckled softly, his eyes glinting with mischief. “I still stand by my favorite being mint chocolate chip.”

“Ugh, that’s the worst flavor,” you teased, nudging him playfully.

“Hey!” Heeseung laughed, the sound light and carefree, like music to your ears. “You just don’t appreciate the refreshing taste!”

The playful banter felt familiar and comforting, a reminder of the bond you shared. You both leaned against the balcony railing, looking out at the shimmering lights of the city below, the vibrant energy reflecting the emotions swirling within you.

“I’ve missed this,” Heeseung admitted, his voice turning softer. “I’ve missed you.”

Your heart fluttered at his honesty. “I’ve missed you too. It’s hard to explain, but life felt dull without you around.”

Heeseung’s gaze locked onto yours, the weight of his words resonating in the air. “I promise to be here for you this time. I won’t take our moments for granted again.”

You smiled, feeling a warmth bloom in your chest. “I believe you.”

As you stood there, side by side, the world around you faded into the background. It was just you and Heeseung, two hearts that had weathered a storm, ready to embrace whatever the future held.

The air was charged with a mix of nervous energy and undeniable chemistry, and you felt a shift—a spark that ignited the promise of something more. You turned to him, your pulse racing.

“So, what’s next?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Heeseung smiled, a hint of mischief returning to his eyes. “Well, first, I think I need to make it up to you for being such an idiot.”

You raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk on your lips. “Oh really? And how do you plan to do that?”

He stepped closer, his voice low and teasing. “How about I take you out for ice cream? You can choose the flavor, even if it’s the ‘worst’ one.”

You laughed, the sound bright and carefree. “Deal. But you might regret it when I choose something crazy.”

“I can handle it,” he replied confidently, his smile infectious. “Just don’t be too mean to my mint chocolate chip.”

As you shared a laugh, the tension between you melted away, leaving only the warmth of rekindled feelings. The future was uncertain, but with Heeseung by your side, you felt ready to embrace whatever came next.

As you both made plans for ice cream and more late-night talks, you realized that love wasn’t just a feeling—it was a journey. And together, you were ready to explore every twist and turn, hand in hand.

...

[vxnuslogy]

— will they, won’t they.

pairing: hoshina soshiro x gn!reader

premise: hoshina soshiro has been hopelessly in love with you for years now. and for the first time, you finally hear him say the words "i love you."

— warnings: down bad + jealous hoshina, modern setting, reader is a kyudo player.

— author's note: little miss says she's going on a break then proceeds to write about hoshina soshiro for all the dying fans (its me, i'm the dying fans.) art credits to @.BByo_chick on twitter.| ~700 words.

“how long are ya gonna keep me here?”

“no one is forcing you to.”

hoshina only clicks his tongue and stares at the dojo walls. his finger impatiently tapping at his chin as he hits crossed leg on the floors. it’s half past 5 in the afternoon now and you have no intentions of going home anytime soon.

“i’m gettin’ bored here,” he drawls, hands stretching over his head as he watches you shoot another arrow with pin-point accuracy that makes his smirk twitch uncomfortably. you’ve gotten too good at kyudo, and it shows.

“then go home,” you reply as you pull the bow back and aim for your next shot. “you don’t have to keep waiting for me to finish.”

but that was the thing: hoshina wanted to wait for you and he always will.

he wants everyone to know that you had him and he’s all you’ll ever need. there was no need for that guy who caught your fall a few days ago—not when he’s been catching you for the past 3 years. he was your guide in the train station every morning, so why do you keep trying to go to the station earlier and ask your junior for directions? hoshina soshiro was always by your side, so why couldn’t you see that?

“i’ll wait,” he murmurs into his hand, eyes looking at anything but at you. “got nothin’ to do at home anyways.”

it was a weak excuse, but it always does the trick. you always relent and let him stay but not without throwing a look over your shoulder that screams “you’re acting strange.” because he was. hoshina, against his will, feels his lips being tugged into a frown whenever you interact with anyone that isn’t him.

that sounds very bad–it is bad in a sense–but hoshina would never dream of taking away your freedom. so he just watches, painfully by the sidelines, with a scoff on his face as another student from a rival school stammers to ask for your number. it was irritating, having to watch everyone throw themselves at you when you’re clearly uninterested. 

“what the hell will happen if i’m not by yer side, captain.” hoshina jests as you pack up your stuff and lock the dojo.

“is this about earlier?” you ask with an amused lilt to your voice. “when the new student asked for my number?”

hoshina hated how you always aimed for the heart.

“i have no idea what yer talkin’ about,” he weakly tries to change the topic. hoshina racks his brain to think of something—anything—to help change the conversation, but his mind keeps circling back to you. how you almost looked serious when some guy–who was leagues below you by the way–had the gall to ask you out for a date.

“never took you for the jealous type.” you tease.

“it’s because ‘m not.” he said through gritted teeth, hands balling into small fists against his school bag. “‘m lookin’ out for ya, alright? that guy was a creep. i’m keepin’ yer ass safe from weirdos.”

you looked unconvinced but didn’t comment on his unusual aggressiveness. hoshina let out a frustrated sigh, a hand coming to ruffle your hair and pull just a tiny bit closer that would make everyone question your relationship. this was driving him crazy but he couldn’t do anything about it.

“‘m not jealous. get that over yer pretty little head.”

and until you both got on the train and went your separate ways to go home, hoshina soshiro never once let your hand drop to your side. he kept you impossibly close to his side and whispered sweet good lucks into your ear. body so comfortably lax in your presence he was slouching on the train seat so he could bury his nose in your hair. 

hoshina soshiro was so unfathomably in love with you. 

how could he not love you when you use your own heartbeat to calm his erratic one during every competition? when every hug has his mind spinning with gold and you. every victory is dedicated to your name, and no trophy or medal could ever compare to the feeling of running into your arms and drowning in your praise.

“i love you.” he mutters as you sleep peacefully on his shoulder on your way home. how many years has he been saying it before he lost count? it’s truly just a matter of when you’ll wake up and finally realize it yourself.

he feels the blood rush to his brain as he throws himself on his bed, unable to wipe the image of you smiling as if you had heard him.

© vxnuslogy 2024. do not plagiarize, repost, or translate any of my works without my knowledge or consent in other platforms or websites.

[c0ffeejelly1]

When you send him a dirty text in public

Multiple character headcannons

Authors note: like 3 of these were half way finished in the nsfw section so like deal with it. And I’m gonna dip now bye. (POST-TIMESKIP!!)

Warnings: NSFW Content, femdom(ish) meh kinda, vaginal sex, doggy? Standing doggy?, oral sex, riding, men moaning, that kinda stuff.

You found yourself feeling utterly restless.

The minutes dragged on as you watched your boyfriend engage in a lively conversation with one of his friends.

It wasn’t that you were upset; after all, you knew his friend too.

Yet, a wave of boredom washed over you as you sat on the couch across from them, feeling like an outsider in a world that was supposed to include you.

…then, a light bulb went off in your mind.

You had the perfect idea.

Something that would definitely catch his attention!

Something that could make him blush!

An idea that would redirect all his focus back to his stunning girlfriend—you!

You were gonna send him a nude.

Okay maybe not a nude..but a very heavily erotic message.

Something that would surely make his heart race!

With a mischievous grin, you typed it out, hit send, and looked up, eager for his reaction.

The type to ask about it out loud

“Babe! Why did you send me this?”

Is there any way to land a punch on a oversized gorilla?

What on earth is he doing, just thrusting his phone at you so his friend can clearly see that steamy message?

"I mean, it's not that I dislike it... but why now?"

You could feel the heat of embarrassment creeping up your cheeks.

How could he be so clueless about what should remain private?

“Hey, what do you think she meant when she said, ‘and we’re gonna keep going until you get pregnant.’ I can’t get pregnant..”

"I, uh..." His friend was wise enough to keep quiet, especially with the glare you shot him from the corner of your eye. "Let’s just put the phone away for now..."

"But I wanna kno—"

"Away."

Let’s just say your stay didn’t last long.

Once you were back home, you headed straight for your bedroom, eager to call it a night, but your boyfriend wouldn’t let it go.

Even as you settled on the couch to sleep instead, he trailed after you, nagging about the meaning behind that text.

After a while, you noticed he had gone silent, prompting you to glance over at him.

To your surprise, he looked flushed for some reason...

What was he staring at?

"B-babe..."

"...what?"

"Did you want to do the, um... thing together?"

"What thing?"

"Y-you know! The... the boom boom?"

"I'm going to ignore you."

For some reason, he didn’t even protest. Maybe he had finally decided to stop bothering you—

"W-woah!... hey! W-what are you doing?"

"I'm just trying to give you what you asked for...?"

When did you ever ask him to open your legs?

"I don’t remember asking you to—"

"Shh... it all makes sense to me why you're so moody..."

NSFW

“M’sorry for not taking care of you baby..”

You had truly let go of any resentment towards him two organisms ago.

When he promised to fulfill your desires, you could sense the sincerity in his voice, the weight of his words hanging in the air between you.

He kept his promise, and Lord were you going numb from pleasure.

He showed no signs of slowing down, and it seemed like he never intended to.

“Mm..you always taste so sweet..” His voice was low and sultry.

The way his tongue danced over your sensitive spot sent waves of electricity racing up your spine, as if he knew exactly how to draw out every reaction from you.

You could feel the heat pooling in the pit of your stomach, a delicious tension building with every flick and swirl.

“So pretty..I wanna hear you more, gorgeous..”

His voice was a soft, almost intimate mumble, but the way he spoke was undeniably affecting you more than you were willing to admit.

In a moment of impulsive desire, you thought to quiet his teasing by pulling him closer, a decision that quickly turned into a mistake.

“Mhm..you can push my head- please push my head..”

You didn’t actually expect him to like that..

It was clear he was hard at the moment, his body moving restlessly against the couch, seeking any kind of friction to alleviate the throbbing tension in his pants.

Tension escalated even further as he felt your thighs tightening next to his head once more.

“Fuck..squeeze your thighs around me..”

His words hung in the air, thick with challenge.

You couldn’t deny that you were nearing the edge again, the familiar rush building within you, a wave of pleasure that threatened to crash over.

But you were aware that if you came, if you surrendered completely to the moment, he would likely continue just like before—pushing you to the brink.

“Make a mess on my face, baby..come on, I’ll fuck you good after this, promise..”

I mean what’s one more climax gonna do to hurt anyone?

Characters: Rengoku, Connie, HINATA, BOKUTO, Beelzebub, DIAVOLO, ITTO, Liaos (any character you like)

The type to be very bothered

“Hey man, you alright?” His friend asks, noticing the way your boyfriend had been avoiding eye contact and shifting uncomfortably in his seat.

“Absolutely! I’m doing great! Nothing’s bothering me at all! It’s not like a certain someone just sent me a super steamy message, right? Ha ha, that would be hilarious, wouldn’t it?”

His laughter is forced, a little too high-pitched, as it hangs awkwardly in the air between you all.

Is he even trying to hide it?

There’s a noticeable flush creeping onto his cheeks, a rosy hue that betrays his bravado, no matter how much he tries to downplay it.

You can see the heat radiating from his skin, and it’s clear that he’s not as unaffected as he wants you to believe.

The way he’s nervously fidgeting with his fingers, twisting them together and then letting them fall to his lap, only adds to the evidence.

His leg bounces up and down, a rapid rhythm that seems to echo the frantic thoughts racing through his mind.

It’s a classic sign of someone trying to mask their anxiety, and it’s not doing him any favors.

You can’t help but smirk at the sight of him.

The contrast between his words and his body language is stark.

He’s clearly flustered, and it’s almost endearing to see him so rattled.

Your message had definitely had an impact on him.

The way he keeps glancing at his phone, as if willing it to light up with another notification, only reinforces the idea that he’s not as composed as he pretends to be.

“Come on, man. You can tell me. What’s really going on?” His friend prods gently, hoping to coax the truth out of him.

Your boyfriend swallows hard, his throat bobbing as he tries to find the right words.

“It’s just… you know, sometimes messages can be a little… suggestive?” His voice trails off.

His friend raises an eyebrow.

“Suggestive? Like, ‘I miss you’ suggestive, or ‘I can’t thinking about you’ suggestive?”

Your boyfriend shifts in his seat, his fingers drumming nervously against the table, betraying the calm facade he’d attempt to maintain.

“More like… ‘I need you’ suggestive,” he finally admits, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Ah, I see…” his friend replies, nodding slowly, as they both turned towards your direction to see you trying to eavesdrop in on their conversation.

“What are you guys mumbling about..”

“N-Nothing!”

On your way back home you couldn’t help but feel your boyfriend’s uneasiness as he walked beside you.

He seemed almost scared of what was waiting for him at home, that it kinda made you feel a little bad for him..a little.

NSFW

As soon as you both enter the house, you find yourself taken aback as he unexpectedly pulled you toward your bedroom, before showering your body with heated kisses.

Each kiss, send shivers up your spin as his lips trail along your jawline and down to your collarbone.

Your fingers instinctively weave into his hair, feeling the softness of each strand as he pushes you gently against the cool door.

“Mm..I like when you play with my hair..”

His face nestles into the curve of your neck, breathing in your scent, as his hands begin to explore your shirt, fingers tracing the material, eager to remove it and reveal the skin beneath.

As he works to lift the fabric, he pauses, lifting his gaze to meet yours with a pleading puppy-like look.

You can see the question forming in his mind, the need for your consent hanging in the air.

“Please, baby..can I?”

With a soft nod, you give him the answer he seeks.

That’s how you found yourself helplessly bouncing on his cock.

He bites back a moan, desperately trying to hold some level of composure but losing the battle more and more with every sweet praise you whispered.

“F-fuck, I could listen to you talk all day..you have no idea what your voice does to me, baby.” He mumbles, his breaths coming in short uneven, gasps

His head leans back against the bed frame, eyes tightly shut, simply to savor the soft sound of your voice.

His grip on your hip squeezes as he begins to thrust against you in a desperate attempt to reach his climax.

He was panting, hard, unable to form a coherent word.

The situation only intensified the moment you call him a ‘good boy’.

Hearing you utter those words, despite how he loved hated the phrase, made him feel so good and so so close to the edge.

“I-I’m your good boy...I'm a good boy for you, I jus’ want you to f-feel good- ngh..”

He begins to babble, his only thought being the desire to cum inside you, and with a strangled moan, he finally succumbs to that urge.

It wouldn’t be so bad to have his kids right?

Characters: Reigen, SERIZAWA, ARMIN, Reiner, Nishinoya, KAGEYAMA, CHOSO, LEVIATHAN, Thoma, Chilchuck (any character you like)

The type to get distracted by his phone

The moment he heard his phone chime, he turned to see your message pop up on the screen.

He shot a quick glance to you before looking back to open it.

Maybe this wasn’t the best idea, because now he’s found himself grinning like a fool all while absorbing every word of your text, completely forgetting about the conversation with his friend sitting right next to him.

“..hello?? Bro, who you texting?”

“Yeah I’m listening.”

“What are you talking about? ..Why’re you hiding your screen..”

“Nothin, I’m not.”

“Come on, you totally are—”

“Dunno what you mean”

Let’s assume that you do keep this back to back chat with him while his friend desperately tries to find out what your boyfriends doing.

when your back home, trust me he’s taking all the things you said to him on text to heart.

“What? B-but baby you said right here that, and I quote ‘I crave you intensely right now, darling; my desire is almost overwhelming at this moment.’ “

“I obviously used chat.gpt for that, now go away I’m trying to sleep” you replied, your voice muffled by your pillow.

“But you’re on your phone!”

“And you got turned on from an AI message.”

This causes him to scoff slightly, though the small pout on his face was undeniably present.

“..can we at least go one round?”

“Say the magic word and I’ll think about it.”

NSFW

“Please baby..pleasee, s-slow down a lil f’me..”

His grip on the sheets tightened even more as he tilted his head back, lost in pleasure.

He knew he could easily regain control if he wanted, but you looked so irresistible, he couldn't help but revel in the thrill coursing through him as you pushed him to the edge.

“I-I’m sorry for being greedy, I won’t do it again- fuck..”

The words tumbled from his lips, a mix of embarrassment and exhilaration.

He was greedy. Such a greedy boy.

Asking for just one round but being unable to stop himself, ignoring the potential consequences that loomed in the back of his mind.

Now, he’s found himself moaning helplessly as he unraveled from your touch, each sound a testament to the pleasure you were giving him.

“Shit that feels good..you always feel good”

The way your tongue flicked and how you caressed him, especially at the tip, overwhelmed him to the point where tears began to well up in his eyes, a sign of both vulnerability and bliss.

“M’sorry I-I should’ve stopped after I came..”

Apologies spilled from his lips, a sign of how close he was to another climax.

He just felt so good. So good from you, and everything you were doing to him.

He could feel the tension building within him, a tight coil ready to snap, as he was torn between the desire to hold back and the overwhelming urge to let go completely.

The way you looked at him with those eyes only fueled his need as he felt himself teetering on the edge, the world around him blurring into a haze of sensation.

"Please... just a little more," he gasped, his voice barely above a whisper, filled with desperation.

I’m sure he wouldn’t mind a lil more edging..

I think he’s got a thing for sexting.

Characters: Dimple, Tengen, Eren, JEAN, Ukai, Tendou, ATSUMU, GOJO, Toji, Mammon, KAEYA, Childe (any character you like)

The type to do an old man squint

The moment he hears his phone chime, he’s bringing his glasses up to his face putting distance between him and his phone to look down at the message.

The shift in his expression to one of disappointment clearly indicated that he was somewhat not amused by your timing.

…Maybe because of the raging hard boner you we’re giving him from your boldness. Not that he would ever admit to be turned on by the text. No no, he’s not that type of guy.

He had to be very nonchalant about this whole situation, make it as though nothing had happened.

And he surprisingly did exactly that.

This old geezer really just brushed off your message.

“And do you know what I told him?”

“No, go on.”

“I told this jerk that-“

Now you were even more frustrated.

He was truly ignoring you! Intentionally!

You were too caught up in his sudden disapproval to notice the issue he was dealing with down below, too blinded by the sudden disproval he gave to you.

All you could think about was how effortlessly he resumed his chat with his lively friend.

It wasn’t until you waved goodbye and started your walk home in complete silence that it hit you.

Not a single word had passed between you two, and you could sense his irritation—was he mad?

What on earth was going through his mind?

That stoic expression of his was impossible to read…

“..so babe..” you start, awkwardly swinging your arms back and forth nodding your head slowly to a nonexistent beat.

“Yes?”

“I just- well about the um..message..”

“Later.”

What does that even mean.

Why not talk about it now?

It would be so much nicer than just walking in silence until you got back to your apartment.

But that’s exactly what took place.

Once you arrived, you noticed him darting suspiciously into your bedroom before he locked himself in the bathroom.

The sound of the door clicking shut echoed in the stillness, leaving you standing in the living room.

Choosing to ignore him for the moment, you took a deep breath and tried to focus on something positive.

You thought of a way to lift his spirits, before the idea finally struck you.

Why not make his favourite meal?

NSFW

You smile to yourself as you gather all the ingredients for the dinner you envisioned cooking for him, when suddenly you feel hands wrap around you waist from behind.

You could feel the gentle press of his hips against you, and the warmth of his breath brushing your neck as he leaned in closer.

The scent of his cologne created an intoxicating atmosphere around you both as a shiver ran down your spine.

You couldn’t help but lean back into him, feeling the solidness of his toned body against yours, subconsciously grinding into you.

“Fuck..you see what you’re doing to me love?”

You might not have been able to see it, but you definitely felt it.

And you’d be lying if you said you weren’t loving every second.

“I did all this? And here I thought you were mad at me..”

“What’s there to be upset about when I have a gorgeous girl making me dinner?”

In a swift motion, he spun you around and lifted you onto the countertop with ease, his hands resting gently on your waist.

He starts kissing you softly, his lips brushing against yours with a tenderness that sends shivers down your spine.

he moves down to your chest, each kiss igniting a fire within you before pausing only when he heard your small giggle.

“Well your impatient.”

“…Can you blame me? Your the one who sent that text.”

“So you did like it, huh?”

He locks eyes with you for a second and without waiting for a response, he dives back into those passionate kisses, his lips moving with a fervour that made your head spin.

You hear the sound of his belt rustling, the unmistakable sound of fabric hitting the floor, and at this moment you were both in nothing more than your underwear, the cold slab of the counter only causing you to feel even more sensitive to his touches.

He wasted no time in positioning you on the counter, angling your body slightly to grant him easier access. With a gentle motion, he moved your panties aside and entered you with a deep, guttural moan.

“S-shit..you always this tight sweetheart?”

You held onto the countertop firmly as he began to move slowly, being cautious not to cause you any discomfort.

However, eager for him to pick up the pace, you decided to playfully tease him with your words, knowing he would take your playful banter to heart.

In response, he began to thrust into you with relentless intensity, leaving you no time to catch your breath.

His warm breath brushed against the side of your neck as he tried to stifle the desperate sounds threatening to escape him.

This was your fault

All of this was.

You made him like this, he’d never act this irrational before until he met you.

You caused this change in him, and now you were paying for it..with pleasure of course.

(Imagine the rest I’m tired)

Characters: Akashi, Tsukishima, Iwaizumi, kuroo, Akaashi, Ushijima, Osamu, Geto, NANAMI, LUCIFER, Satan, AYATO, Neuvillette, Zhongli (any character you like)

Bonus:

The type to not open the text

You had been at home for about an hour, perched on the counter, intently observing your boyfriend while cradling a cup of your favorite drink.

But today, your excitement was overshadowing the tranquility of the moment.

Patiently, you waited. And waited. And waited

Fucking hell, when is this man gonna look at his phone?

You had sent him a text that was meant to be flirty, a little dirty, and definitely a hint at what you were hoping for later.

But as the minutes ticked by and he remained blissfully unaware, it was becoming increasingly clear that you might need to show him the text directly for him to understand just how horny you were at that moment.

So, you decided to take action.

“Babe can I have your phone?”

“Yeah sure whatever.”

Well that was easy. Green flag ig.

you opened his messages and noticed you were the most recent contact, complete with an adorable nickname he would never admit to using.

It made you smile, a warm flutter in your chest, but you quickly shook it off.

This was not the time for mushy feelings; you had a mission.

You tapped on your profile before shoving his phone in front of his face causing him to lean back slightly, his eyebrows knitting together in confusion.

“..what are you doing?”

“Read.”

He gave you a puzzled look before his eyes scanned the message.

He’s pausing now.

He’s looking up at you.

And back down at the message.

“Why would you call it a sword?”

“Is that really what you’re focused on?”

“Well, yes, because I’m not sure if I should be offended or not…”

NSFW

“Are you mad at me?”

…

“Babe?”

You could feel your boyfriend's hand resting on your hip as you turned your back to him while lying on the bed.

You weren’t mad at him, of course not.

You weren't angry with him, not at all.

You simply had a lot of built-up sexual frustration.

It wasn't as if he could do anything about it; you would love for him to, but ultimately, it was his decision.

“…you wanna cuddlefuck?”

Never in your life did you expect to hear such words come from his mouth, especially in such a crude manner.

You quickly turned your head to look at him, still keeping your back turned.

“You for real?”

"Why not? I've been thinking about it for a while," he replied.

You could only gaze around in disbelief at this unexpected revelation.

Within seconds, he had you stripped down filled with his cock, teeth grazing your neck while his hand explored your body.

It was such an erotic scene it looked like the cover of a hentai, only less..graphic.

However, his thrusts were so lazy it only heightened your frustration, prompting you to take control.

Without warning, you began to grind against him, eliciting a deep moan from his lips.

“Ngh..H-hey..at least fucking warn me when your gonna d-do that..”

Warn him my ass.

If he was going to moan like that, you certainly weren't going to! Who would?

Let’s just say your night ended with both of you cuddling up with each other and a bunch of smooches and allat stuff.

Goodnight.

Characters:GIYUU, Sanemi, kageyama, SUNA,, BELPHAGOR, Wriothesley, Liaos (any character you like)

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

Help- bakugo w a gf who’s always cold

It’s the middle of winter and they’re chilling at the dorms, he’s making her tea and she jus sneaks up behind him and shoves her hands up his shirt and he screams like a girl

🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️

tell me why . . your hands are cold !

katsuki is way better than the heater

a/n.: LMFAOOO this is so cute..and way overdue omg, im so sorry this took so long anon ! i hope you're still hanging around and hope you enjoy ! also as someone who's hands are also legit always freezing (ppl w reynauds say hey) this is for me lol

cw.: no pronouns mentioned here im pretty sure !, fluff n stuff :3 katsuki threatens our life like once or twice but psshhh it doesnt mattuuur..lemme know if i missed sum else !

katsuki lets out a high pitched gasp before his next words come out "HOLY FUCK."

he slams his hands onto the counter in surprise, the spoon he'd used to pour some honey in your mug clatters and drop on the counter. his eyes drift down from your hands under his shirt, to looking back at you with a glare that could terrify any villain. yet you send him a mischievous little smile over his shoulder.

he grips your hands and quickly yanks them off his skin "what. the fuck. are doing." his eye twitched as he growled out his words calmly, but calm in a scary way that definitely does not match with your boyfriend's attitude.

"i was just trying to warm up, it's so cold in here." you whine playfully, katsuki squints at you the more you speak. the grip on your hands tighten as you try to press your cold hands to his skin again.

"so just- turn the fuckin' heater up." he grunts.

"but i want you, suki. you're way warmer." you tease using your sweetest voice. katsuki's nose turns up.

"stop bothering me. m'not gonna get anything done and then you'll blame me when you freeze to death. goin' out of my way to do somethin' nice for you, and this is how you thank me." he chastised, feeling your hands creeping around he quickly shoo's them away with a "cut it out. " ignoring your complaints.

"but, katsukiii. your squeal was so cute."

"fuck off and die. i didn't squeal." he scoffs.

"but you did."

"but i didn't." he pulls your arms closer, spinning around so you can see his pissed of expression, the grip on your hand tightens. "quit clinging to me."

you pout, dropping your chin against his chest to look up at him. his eyebrows furrow "but i like being close to you like this, you're so warm.. it's comfy."

"you and this weird shit you keep saying.." he mutters to himself, but you can see the slight blush on his face. "i'm busy. making tea. for you." he reiterates.

your eyebrows furrow "too busy to hang out with me ?"

"way too busy." he smirks. of course, he only gets happy when he's the one messing with you.

"jerk." you huff. katsuki snorts, pulling your arms harder he bring his hands over yours. he almost jumps at the contact "shit--you're freezing."

"i told you it's cold in here !"

he brings your hands up to his face as if to inspect them "nah, think this is just a you problem." he insists. you laugh, then tilt your head "so, you gonna help me out or not ?" you blink sweetly, giving him your best puppy dog eyes. he groans, swiftly turning back around and you think he's ignoring you now, but he's still got your hands in his grip. then he brings them to his skin, you hum at the feeling while he immediately hisses. "fuck.." you hear him say through his teeth.

"this is the best." you sigh, pressing your cheek to his back. your boyfriend lets out an exasperated sigh. "glad you're enjoyin' it." he bites sarcastically, you giggle against his shirt.

a kiss to his back "thank you, suki. you're the best." katsuki doesn't respond, and you're fine with that. listening to his soft breaths and the sound of the water boiling in the kettle. you hear him turn it off, slowly pouring the hot water in. you feel your hands warm up, and his shoulders untense at the feeling. he really is better than a heater.

"tell me somethin' i don't know, the shit i do for your ass.." he grumbles. you hear the swirling sound of the spoon against the ceramic of the mug, it clings and rings slightly in your ears. katsuki grabs it and turns around to hand it to you, scowl still very present on his features.

"here. warm up." he orders. the moment you make contact your entire body feels warmer. you sigh warmly, sitting down on one of the chairs in the kitchen. he leans against the counter, watching you blow away the steam before taking tiny sips of your drink.

"thank you, katsu.." you exhale in relief. "yeah, yeah.." he mutters, following suit and sitting down in his chair. no more words are exchanged as you quietly sip on your tea. “feel better ?” katsuki adds after a moment, you nod happily, gulping down your drink. he reaches for your hand when you place your mug down, squeezing to check for himself. “good. yer fuckin' hands were colder than icy hot's and that’s part of his whole damn quirk.”

"and what're you holding todoroki's hand for, you're not cheating on me with him are you ? ” you snort, he cranes his neck to look at you incredulously "i'll actually fucking kill you." you throw your head back and laugh. you miss your boyfriend's lips slowly twitching into a smile. he squeezes your hand in joking reprimand.

"i still prefer you, though. waaay better than the heater." you add cheekily, running your thumb over his skin, you like how the small action makes goosebumps rise against his skin.

"yeah ?" you nod intensely and your boyfriend scoffs. "..dumbass." he mutters, turning away and placing his hand over his mouth. " hey !" you exclaim, katsuki lets out a snort behind his hand. but he squeezes your hand even tighter, and you feel even warmer.

taglist :

@napbatata @andysdrafts @queenpiranhadon @jastoo46 @cecelia77

@katszumi @m-inluv @monchurie @the-hangry-otter @starlostlaiba

@moonshuul @erenstitanweave @katsus-mistress @dondeh-zedonutqueen @liluvtojineteyam

@aspiringwriter1111 @sugurusmoon @redvelvetstan1

@niktwazny303 @nemisimp @kit-katsukii @alphasage @milktea-academia

[kuiinncedes]

bruh

[flemingsfreckles]

Best Friend’s Sister

Jessie Fleming x Charles!Reader

Synopsis: just as the title says, classic best friend’s sister fic, except your little sister is more protective over Jessie than she is you.

Warnings: suggestive comments, mentions of sex, language

WC: 2.6k

A/N: hi I’ve been trying to write some shorter stuff, if anyone has requests for some small 1-2k fics they’d like to see feel free to send them my way.

“You single Jessie?”

“Oh my god, leave her alone.” You feel your sister come up from behind you, her hand clasping over your mouth.

You had just moved back to London after spending a few years in school over in America, meaning you were finally back to annoying your younger sister Niamh.

“I’m so sorry. Please ignore her.” Niamh leans over your shoulder sending her roommate an apologetic look.

“Oh, she’s fine, I promise.” Jessie waves off your sister and Niamh releases her hand on your mouth. You can’t help but notice the way Jessie smiles and her cheeks tint pink.

You sister had invited you over to catch up and while you knew she lived with Jessie and you had heard all about the midfielder, you hadn’t really gotten to ever speak to her or gotten to know her. When you were greeted by brown eyes and a face dotted with freckles instead of your sister's paler skin and blue eyes, you had a sudden infatuation with the Canadian. She was beautiful, but you couldn’t say that, you hardly knew if she was single, let alone gay, but you were determined to find out.

The more time you spent with her, the more you poked and prodded at her personal life, which wasn’t easy, she tended to keep to herself most of the time. Each time you visited, you became more and more bold with your comments and questions until finally you were outright complementing the woman.

“You’re really pretty, you know that Fleming?” You said over your shoulder as you made your way out of their apartment, your sister out of earshot.

“What?”

“You heard me.” You say as you grabbed your keys and headed out the front door after spending the afternoon at your sister’s place. You were hoping you left a confused Canadian standing in the kitchen thinking about you. And you had, you just didn’t quite know it yet but Jessie had started to develop her own little crush on you, the more you flirted and teased her, the more she fell.

The longer you were in London, the more and more you found yourself growing close to your sister’s best friend. The closer you grew to her, the more your crush blossomed. You came over often, for dinner, to play games, or watch movies. It was nice, getting to finally spend regular time with your sister again and you definitely didn’t mind an excuse to see Jessie.

One evening the three of you were sitting on the couch playing Mario Kart, which pretty much consisted of you beating Jessie and Niamh pretty handily each round. Niamh had gotten up between races to grab some snacks.

“Hey, would you be able to look at my bed?” Jessie turns to you on the couch, poking your shoulder.

“Why?”

“I think it’s broken?” She says as if she’s not sure if it’s broken or not.

“Damn, didn’t know you were seeing anyone, good for you breaking beds, you don’t strike me as that type.” You send her a wink and a smile.

“No no no,” Jessie immediately is waving her hands, a blush creeping up her cheeks. “It’s not like that.”

“No? Not into wild crazy sex?” You try to bite back the smirk asking to crawl across your face. You had found with your new developing crush, you had also developed an interest in winding up Jessie, just to see her cute, panicked responses.

“I- uh”

“Hey!” You hear Niamh shout at you from the kitchen. “Leave her alone.”

“I’m teasing, you don’t have to answer that.” You smile at Jessie placing your hand on her bent knee. “I’m happy to look at it.”

“I threw my suitcase from my trip on it a little too hard I think, it’s now slanted, Niamh suggested you look at it, said you’re good with that stuff.”

“Yeah Niamh would know I’m good with that stuff, I was always fixing stuff she broke around the house when we were kids and she wanted to practice passes in the hallway.”

“Hey you broke plenty of stuff too!” Niamh says as she comes back over to the couch, she stands before the two of you, giving your hand a stare causing you to realize it’s still resting on Jessie’s knee. You quickly pull your hand back, placing it in your own lap and Niamh sits down placing herself between you and Jessie.

After a couple more laps of what you considered easy victory and embarrassing defeat of Jessie and Niamh, the three of you put on a movie which has Jessie falling asleep on the couch within minutes.

You feel yourself starting to doze off as well causing you to stand up from the couch.

“Tell her I’ll stop by to fix her bed tomorrow.”

The next evening you let yourself into their apartment with the key Niamh lent you and are immediately hit by the smell of garlic and herbs coming from the kitchen. You wander through the entryway to see Jessie at the stovetop, stirring a pot.

“Hey.” You say, not wanting to startle her.

“Hi.” The way she smiles over at you nearly has your knees weak, a warmth spreading through your chest.

“Whatcha doing?”

“Cooking.”

You hum in acknowledgment, moving into the kitchen to where she was.

“Did you invite me over just to wine and dine me Fleming?”

“Maybe I did.” She says matter of factly, giving you a quick grin. “But I also seriously need help with my bed frame.”

“Where’s she at?” You nod in the direction of your sister's room.

“Not here.” Jessie says, a suspicious smile on her face as she turns back to face the stovetop.

“Huh, so it’s just us?”

“Just us.” Jessie repeats. You quickly find yourself moving in her direction, putting yourself behind her, leaning up against the granite island in the middle of the kitchen. Jessie turns down the burner before turning to look up at you, stepping closer so her body is nearly flushed to yours. She looks up at you, wide eyed, her tongue poking out to wet her lower lip.

“Jessie.” You say, almost warning her, she knew what she was doing, putting herself in this close proximity, looking up at you with wide eyes.

“You know we shouldn’t.” Jessie whispers, just loud enough to fill the tiny space between the two of you. Her eyes betray her as you notice the way she stares at your lips between words.

“I know, but maybe that’s why I want to.” It was half true, first and foremost you found Jessie to be extremely attractive and smart and something about her charmed you, her shy demeanor mixed with her confidence. The other half of you, the sibling in you, wanted to piss off Niamh. She had always been the golden child of the family. Professional athlete, good student, you often felt average in comparison.

Plus if the beautiful girl you were looking down at wanted to kiss you, you certainly weren’t going to stand in the way of that. You knew you had started developing feelings, you weren’t sure if she had as well, but the way she smiled at you, found herself at your side, would text you nearly every day about whatever thoughts popped into her mind, you had an inkling she felt similarly.

“I want to too.” She says.

“Say stop and I’ll stop.” You whisper, giving Jessie plenty of time to make a decision. You let your hand slowly come up to her cheek, tilting her chin up slightly in your direction. You give her one last look, down to her lips then back up to her brown eyes before closing your own and leaning in.

Your lips meet hers in a sweet kiss, lasting only a second before you pull back at the sound of the front door opening. You and Jessie give each other identical wide eyes stares. She quickly turns around, giving her attention to the pot on the stove and you turn back, beginning to put away clean dishes that had been drying. Part of you wants to giggle when your sister comes around the corner but the other half of you likes having a little secret so you compose yourself as you put away a stack of plates.

“I didn’t know you’d be over.” Your sister says, you look over at her, an unassuming expression on her face.

“I told you I’d be coming back to help Jessie fix her bed, she asked last night but then someone” you point over your shoulder to Jessie “fell asleep on the couch before I could look at it.” You defend your own presence to your sister who just rolls her eyes at you. The three of you stand in the kitchen, Niamh watching and you and Jessie occupy yourselves with your tasks.

“How was your appointment?” Jessie says, thankfully breaking the awkward silence that had fallen over the kitchen.

“Oh good.” You zone out as your sister begins to chat to Jessie, discussing her appointment and various other training and team related things that quite frankly were of no interest to you.

Jessie finishes up cooking, plating food for all three of you before you sit down at the table. The three of you eat and you offer to clear plates once everyone has finished. Niamh excuses herself off to bed, saying she had gotten up early and was exhausted.

“Want me to look at the bed? Maybe you can actually sleep there instead of the couch tonight.”

“The couch was comfortable.”

“Whatever you say.” You follow Jessie down the hall past your sister's room and into Jessie’s. The slant in her bed is so obvious you giggle upon seeing it.

It takes about half an hour but you finally upright the Canadian’s bed. “Should be good to go, hop on, make sure it’s alright.”

“I think you should also test it, you know, since you fixed it.” You watch as she scoots herself over to one side of the bed before patting the space next to her. You look between her and her hand, squinting, questioning her intentions by inviting you into her bed after you had just kissed in the kitchen.

You follow her request, climbing in to lay next to her. Jessie slides herself back in your direction, putting her body against yours and her head ever so slightly resting on your shoulder.

“Close your eyes.” Jessie says, tilting her head up to look at you. “That’s the only way to test it fully.”

“Whatever you say Fleming.” You close your eyes, feeling yourself relax into the pillow under your head. You feel Jessie shift against you and then you feel her lips press against the side of your cheek. You can’t help the grin that comes across your lips as she pulls back and rests her head more firmly on your shoulder, one arm coming across your stomach to rest.

You’re woken up by an aggressive tug on your sweatshirt, pulling you from the comfort of the bed you were in and the warmth from the body beside you. Before you know it you’re against the hard wall of the hallway, your sister's bright blue eyes staring harshly into yours.

“What the fuck are you doing?” She empathizes her words, pushing you hard against the wall as she questions you.

You’re still in a sleepy haze, blinking rapidly to figure out what exactly your sister was going on about. “What?”

“Why are you in her bed?” Niamh is whispering but her tone tells you she is pissed off. That’s when it sets in, you must have fallen asleep next to Jessie, in her bed, in her room, in her shared apartment with your sister.

“I helped her fix it and then, I don’t know.”

“You cannot put yourself in her bed just because you have a crush.”

“Niamh.” You try to get through to your sister but she’s too focused on the fact that she found you in her best friend's bed she won’t listen.

“No, you’re my sister and that’s my roommate and my best friend, you can’t push yourself on her just because you can’t handle your little crush and Jessie is too fucking nice to tell you off.”

“I didn’t push myself on her Niamh, Jesus.”

“So what then? You’re claiming she invited you into her bed?”

“I sort of did.” You hear Jessie’s voice, causing you and Niamh to quickly turn your heads in her direction. Jessie stood in the doorway, eyes daring between yourself and your sister and where Niamh’s hands still held you hard to the wall. “Niamh, I’m sorry, I should’ve said something sooner. I just, I didn’t know how.”

You watch as your sister's gaze softens unexpectedly. “Oh.” Is the only word that comes from her mouth but you feel the grip on your sweatshirt begin to loosen.

“Are you two, like, together?”

You glance at Jessie who shares a unsure look in your direction.

“Uh.” You don’t want to overstep.

“We’re uh.” Jessie looks at you and to the floor.

“We haven’t gotten to that conversation yet.” You finally say, a tight lipped smile across your face knowing Niamh probably wouldn’t be happy with that answer.

“Oh, but you’re sleeping together?” Niamh’s hands drop from your collar.

“No.” You and Jessie both are quick to blurt out before looking at each other.

“No, not like that. I mean yes we were asleep together, but that was the first time and we were just sleeping. We haven’t, we aren’t, uh, yeah.” You suddenly feel shy discussing the topic in front of you sister and Jessie,

“Okay.” Your sister brings one hand up to pinch her forehead between her thumb and forefinger. “Jessie, can you give us a second?”

“Yeah, of course.” She steps back into her room and closes the door leaving you and Niamh in silence in the hall.

“Look Niamh I would’ve told you. I just didn’t know what was going to happen.” You try to explain yourself before your sister cuts you off, her uptight tone returning.

“If you hurt her, I swear, I’ll put my fucking hands on you.”

“Niamh.”

“No, let me speak, she’s the nicest, most genuine person I know, and if you so much as corrupt one tiny cell in her body, I will have it out for you. She’s not someone you can just mess around with and then move on, not her.”

“Hey, shouldn’t you be having this conversation with her, not me, I’m your sister, you should be protecting me.” You throw your arms out, not understanding why your sister is so worried about you.

“Well no offense, I’ve seen your track record. I’m more worried about her getting hurt, not you. So I apologize for wanting to make sure you don’t keep her around just long enough to get laid so you can lose interest.”

“God Niamh, that was years ago, I was a teenager and stupid. I’m not like that anymore.” You knew your sister was right. You had been careless with girls when you were younger, you had liked the chase, when the chase was over, you would lose interest and move on to chasing another girl, this process repeated itself through your late teens eventually stopping a couple years ago when you finally realized the chase was not all that it was made up to be. You wanted serious, you wanted long term, and now you wanted Jessie.

“How am I supposed to believe that?”

“I don’t know, but let me prove it. We're not even together yet Niamh but I’m going to treat her right, I promise. Let me prove I can be good for her.” You hold out your pinky to your sister, something that the two of you did as kids to make promises. You never broke and pinky promise and neither had Niamh.

Niamh took a second, looking between your outstretched pinky and your face. “Fine, I’m trusting you.” She looks at your face before bringing her hand up to link her pinky with yours.

“Thank you, you won’t regret it, and neither will she.” You give Niamh a quick wink before releasing your pinky before heading through the door of Jessie’s room, leaving your sister rolling her eyes behind you.