#sorry my answer is so long looking back on it

[mihsella]

touch starved

Minors DNI!! Sub!Bob Reynolds x Female Reader

Summary: You had been seeing Bob Reynolds for a while now, and after a couple of drinks you invite him over to your place. Turns out the time at isolation made him more touch starved and submissive that you could ever imagine.

Warnings: fem reader, vaginal sex, dominant female and submissive male tones, submissive man, crotch grinding, male overstimulation, making out, slight mention of drinking, unsafe sex I guess

Notes: I really really took heavy inspiration on someone called @squinch-depraved who did a sub!charlie slimecicle fic but I'm pretty sure they deleted their blog. I also got some amazing one liners from @nightprompts, thank you so much!

If you are more into dom!void go read my other fic That other side of you. Love you!

------------------------------------------------------------------------------You had to admit it, you were head over heels for Robert Reynolds from the moment you first saw him.

Back then, you were just an intern at the Thunderbolts HQ, running errands, fetching coffee, organizing press conferences, whatever Mel needed. You weren’t exactly close to the team, though you shared the occasional chat with Ava or Bucky. Still, you’d stepped into their meeting room a handful of times.

It was on one of those cold autumn afternoons, the kind where you just wanted to stay at home and cozy up, when you were asked to retrieve some leftover merch from the meeting room. You went in, oblivious to the presence of anyone else, when you suddenly heard a shuffle from behind you.

"Oh...hi...sorry" A man's voice said timidly, stuttering over his words. A figure emerged from behind a panel. He wore a dark blue hoodie, and had thrown on a pair of sweatpants, clearly not expecting anyone. He slowly made his way towards you, and as he stepped into the light you started to distinguish his features. His deep blue eyes barely looked at you, avoiding your gaze as he fidgeted with his hands. His dark, long hair framed his soft face as his smile shined under the afternoon light.

"Oh, Mr. Reynolds. You scared me" You said, smiling at the boy in front of you.

"Oh I'm so so sorry, I was just uh...reading...you know"

You realized you had never seen him face to face, only heard the rest of the team mentioning him from time to time. And god, was he beautiful up close.

"Well, everyone else is at the press conference, are you not coming down?" You asked curiously.

"No no, it 's fine. I'm not big on being on TV or answering questions or well talking to people I guess" He replied, almost embarrassed at his own shyness.

"Okay then, uhh....see you around!" You smiled, making eye contact with him as he did.

"See ya then" He smiled back, making a small awkward wave as he did (and regretting it immediately).

From then on you saw him around more, in the cafeteria, in the training room, in the hallways, and you always hit it off. You talked about basically anything, and you ended up considering him your closest friend in the HQ. It wasn't until one day, when you were chatting in the tower terrace, that you realized he was more fidgety than normal. Tugging on his sleeves and tucking his hair behind his ears. He looked nervous, like if he wanted to say something but just couldn't figure out how.

"I'm sorry, do you, do you want to go out sometime??" He asked jumpily.

"Like a date??"

"Yeah I guess, like a date"

And so you two met, for coffee, for dinner, for a walk in a park. First a couple of times per week, then basically every night. He was a hopeless romantic, a surprisingly classical gentleman. He bought you flowers, called you beautiful, looked into your eyes like you were his world. And god, he was so nerdy and timid. "I'm sorry I just, I haven't been with someone for a really long time" He said, as he timidly leaned in for your first kiss.

It wasn't until a couple of weeks later, when he had completely broken out of his shell, that you decided to invite him over to your apartment. You both had a couple of drinks on you, nothing to make you drunk but enough to boost your confidence. And you laughed as you made your way in. Once you were inside, you both fell into the couch, laughing in each other's arms as you settled down.

You looked into his eyes,he was so pretty, so soft, he wanted you so badly, and he made you know it with every single stare. He tucked your hair behind your ear as he reduced the distance between you, leaning in to meet your lips. A slow couple of delicate kisses as he cupped your face, his hot breath against yours. You were hungry for him, he was finally there for you and only you. He slid his tongue through your lips, and you opened your mouth, letting him explore every part of it.

“You really wanted this didn’t you??” You asked, smiling at him.

“Y….yes” He replied, embarrassed at his own desperation.

You put your legs over his, slowly climbing on top of him as you keep kissing him. You ran your fingers through his hair, pulling his head back to meet your gaze. He looked so vulnerable, so pretty, his soft eyes looking up at you, glistening as they alternated between your eyes and your lips. He swallowed, looking up at you in desperation, begging you to keep touching him.

You made your way towards his neck, leaving wet kisses all over it. Your hot breath against his throat made him feel otherworldly, and you felt him shiver from just your touch. A pathetic whine escaped his lips as he threw his head back, looking at the ceiling. You started sucking on his neck, one hand scratching his torso and the other pulling on his hair, running your fingers through his scalp. "Y-you are so good at this" He said, stuttering and breathing heavy as he did. You started pulling on his shirt, signaling him to take it off, which he did desperately exposing his abs as you ran your fingertips over them. He sloppily unbuttoned your blouse, struggling with every button and apologizing, choking a groan as he got full view of your tits.

You started grinding your hips against his crotch, a slow, tortuous rhythm as you moved towards his mouth, biting his bottom lip. He whined into your mouth, desperately trying to buck his hips into you to gain some friction. “You are so touch starved aren't you baby??” You smiled, looking down at him.

A whimper escaped his lips as you fastened your pace, pushing yourself harder against his growing bulge. You felt yourself starting to get wet, his crotch rubbing perfectly against your clit. He felt like he was gonna cum just from this, just from your touch against him. He was painfully hard, his cock pushing against his boxers, wishing that you would just ruin him already.

"H-hurts...p-please" He couldn't even get his words out correctly, whines interrupting every word.

"Please what baby? Use your words" You replied, shocked at your own sudden cockiness.

"Please touch me, please" He said desperately, his hips trying to increase your rhythm.

You got off him and started undoing his pants, noticing how utterly big he was. You ran your finger through his growth over his boxers, eliciting a whine as he shivered under your touch. "Please....I beg you." You smiled, slowly taking his underwear off, making him suffer with every single touch. His cock was glistening with precum, he looked down, almost embarrassed at the sight. "It's okay baby" You said reassuringly.

You got up, aligning him against your entrance. You were already wet from how desperate he was, yet he still didn't fit that easily. You slid down, slowly, taking in all of him. His cock sliding through your folds. "Oh...god" He choked out, throwing his head back as he did. You felt him hit your core, filling you in perfectly as you adjusted to his size. You grabbed his shoulders, slowly pumping in an out of him, each movement eliciting groans from him, You felt so perfect around him, he hadn't been touched in so long, and the way your walls wrapped around him was just ideal, his mind felt hazy, only thinking about fucking you. You increased your pace, filling him against your folds with every single pump. He whined with each thrust, a collection of desperate moans escaping his lips each time.

"What's wrong baby? Can't handle it?" You asked, pulling his hair so his eyes met yours.

"I can....fuck.....I can handle it" He said, out of breath as he looked at you.

You grabbed his shoulders, pushing yourself harder against him. He grabbed your waist, helping you steady as you found a perfect rhythm. Your moans syncing, each thrust leaving you two out of breath as he slid in and out of you, hitting that perfect spot everytime. "That's it baby, just like that" Your words made him whimper under you, as he fucked into you harder, feeling himself about to spill. With one deep groan you felt him filling you, his cock pulsating inside you. He was so overwhelmed, so overstimulated, gasping for air as he looked at you.

"Oh, but I'm not done with you yet." You said, digging your nails into his shoulders and pushing him down. "Just a little more, you can take a little more can't you baby?" You cupped his face with one of your hands, his eyes glistening.

"Y-yes, I can" He said, his mind hazy from how sensitive his cock was, from how tight your walls were against him.

"Such a good boy aren't you?"

You thrust yourself against him, each pump painfully wrapping around his over sensitive cock. He whined in pure desperation, not even able to hold you anymore, dropping his hands to his sides. "God..god I-" He gasped, unable to even form a coherent sentence by this point. You felt yourself about to spill just from how vulnerable he was being for you, your core tensing up as you felt that familiar feeling building inside you. His whines filled the room, his eyes stuck to yours, oscillating to your breasts from time to time. With one last thrust you collapsed into him, moaning and shivering as you fell into his arms.

You both took deep breaths, looking at each other and smiling. You got off him, kissing his forehead and putting his messy hair away from his face. "That...that was great baby" You said, still out of breath as you laid your interlocked his hands with yours. He looked at you silently, still hazy from all that you had given him.

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

This is my first time writing a sub!man and my second time writing smut in like 4 years, and I don't know I feel like i didn't do it that well so sorry if this doesn't live up to your expectations. English is not my first language and my brain is foggy and tired. Pleaseeee give me ideas and recommendations I'm willing to write anything you guys want but I'm strill trying to figure out how to put a requests button on my profile. Love you!!! (GIVE ME IDEAS NOW!!!111!!)

[rmview]

cold shoulders, SKZ.

featuring — stray kids members x gn!reader  ( masterlist )

summary — how the stray kids boys react when you give them the cold shoulder after an argument and don’t forgive easily!

contents — angst, hurt, ignoring.

bang ˠ chan

chan wasn’t used to you giving him the cold shoulder. not like this. sure — you’d gotten mad at him before, bickered over small things, had moments where you huffed and turned away when he got too bossy or distant. but this? this silence was heavier. this was you not replying to his texts. not looking at him when he spoke. moving past him in the apartment like he was invisible. it killed him. 

the fight had been over something stupid. some late night at the studio when you’d begged him to come home, just one evening, just one dinner together after weeks of him being locked up in those four walls with nothing but music and stress weighing on his shoulders. and instead of agreeing, instead of apologizing, he’d snapped. told you you were being clingy. that he didn’t have time to babysit feelings when deadlines were crushing him. 

the moment the words left his mouth, he regretted them. but his pride, tired and overworked and frustrated, wouldn’t let him back down. 

now here he was — two days later — watching you move around the kitchen, headphones in, ignoring the way his gaze followed your every step. he left your favorite drink by your side of the bed. it stayed untouched. ordered takeout from that place you loved. you barely touched the food. every attempt he made to bridge the space between you, you quietly shut down. 

but chan wasn’t the type to give up. not when it came to you. he hovered in the doorway that night, hands in the pockets of his hoodie, hair a mess from restless fingers. “y/n,” he called softly, voice rough with the apology he couldn’t quite force out yet. 

you didn’t turn around. 

“i know you’re mad… and you should be,” he sighed, leaning against the doorframe. “i was a dick. i let stress get to my head and said shit i didn’t mean. you didn’t deserve that.” 

nothing. 

chan bit his lip, stepping closer. “i hate this, you know. us… not talking. it’s driving me insane.” when you didn’t respond, still scrolling through your phone, he sighed and sank onto the couch across from you, resting his head in his hands. “i miss you,” he mumbled into his palms. 

that made you pause. just for a second. but you didn’t say anything, didn’t soften. and honestly? he understood. because this wasn’t about a quick sorry and moving on. this was about trust. about how you’d begged for a little time, a little space in his life that wasn’t buried under pressure, and he’d brushed you aside like you didn’t matter. 

so, for the first time in a long time, bang chan decided to wait. no grand speech. no half-assed jokes to make you smile. just him, sitting quietly, hoping you’d let him earn your forgiveness the hard way. and if it took days, weeks — hell, months — he wasn’t going anywhere. because losing you, even for a second, was worse than any deadline. 

felix ˠ

felix had never seen you like this. 

you’d always been soft with him. even when you were frustrated, even when you rolled your eyes at his teasing or swatted his arm when he clung to you like an overgrown puppy, you never… iced him out. but after the fight last night — if you could even call it a fight — you’d shut down. completely. 

he stood outside your room for what felt like forever, his hand hovering near the door, chewing on his lip as he debated knocking for the hundredth time. the light from under the door flickered with your tv, shadows moving. he knew you were awake. knew you’d heard him when he came in earlier, when he called your name softly, voice heavy with regret. but you hadn’t answered. felix wasn’t used to this kind of distance. 

it had started over something small — it always did. he’d made a joke. some careless, teasing remark about how you were “too sensitive,” when you opened up about something that had been bothering you. he hadn’t meant it to sting, but the moment your expression fell, the guilt had hit him like a brick wall. and instead of apologizing properly, he’d awkwardly laughed it off, hoping you’d do the same. 

but you didn’t. you went quiet. and now, hours later, you still hadn’t said a word. 

felix paced the hallway, glancing at the door every few seconds. his chest hurt in that tight, awful way it did when things felt wrong. when people he cared about pulled away. he hated conflict. hated when the air between him and someone he loved felt heavy. 

so he grabbed his phone, sent a message. 

i’m sorry, angel. i messed up. can we talk? 

read. no reply. 

he sighed, leaning his forehead against the cool wood of your door. “y/n,” he whispered, voice cracking. “please don’t hate me.” 

still nothing. 

felix sank to the floor, back against the wall, fingers picking at the sleeve of his hoodie. he scrolled through your shared photos, stupid videos you’d taken of him half-asleep on the couch, goofy selfies he’d demanded after a coffee run, little snapshots of a relationship that had been his safe place. and now it felt like the walls were crumbling. 

he stayed there for what felt like hours, the house eerily silent except for the faint hum of your tv. he didn’t try to force his way in. didn’t flood you with texts or beg you to come out. felix wasn’t that type. he knew sometimes people needed space. but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt like hell. 

before heading back to his room, he slid a note under your door — his handwriting messy and rushed. 

i know i hurt you. i’ll wait. however long it takes. i just… i need you to know you mean everything to me. i’ll do better, i promise.

and then he left the hallway in silence, hoping you’d read it. hoping one day you’d believe it. because losing you over one stupid, thoughtless moment? that was the kind of thing felix knew he’d never forgive himself for. 

lee ˠ know 

lee know wasn’t used to being ignored. especially not by you. 

you’d always been the person who called him out, pushed past his walls when no one else dared to. the one who teased him right back when he got sarcastic, who softened him with a smile when his words were sharp. but now… now you wouldn’t even look at him, and it was all his fault. 

the fight had started ugly. tension building all week, small frustrations piling up until he said something he shouldn’t have. something cruel. defensive. his voice had been cold when he’d spat, “maybe if you weren’t always acting like you know everything, we wouldn’t be fighting all the damn time.” 

and the second he saw the way your face fell — the way you’d swallowed hard, biting your lip like you were forcing yourself not to break — his heart had dropped straight to his stomach. especially since you didn’t yell back. didn’t cry. you went silent. and that silence hurt worse than any words you could’ve thrown at him. 

now, hours later, you���d locked yourself in your room, your phone untouched on the counter. every time he passed by your door, the knot in his stomach tightened. the part of him that always needed to win, to have the last word, crumbled under the weight of how badly he’d messed up. 

lee know paced the living room, restless. he thought about leaving — giving you space, like maybe that would help — but he couldn’t do it. not with the way your silence haunted the house. not with the memory of your eyes flickering, just for a second, like he was someone you didn’t recognize anymore. 

“y/n,” he called softly, standing outside your door, voice rough with regret. “i didn’t mean it.” 

nothing. 

he let out a heavy breath, raking a hand through his hair. “i’m… i’m bad at this, okay? at saying how i feel. and when i get scared, or—” he cut himself off, scowling at how pathetic he sounded. “i push people away. but i don’t wanna push you away.” 

silence. the kind that made his chest ache in a way he didn’t know how to fix. 

lee know leaned his forehead against the door. “i’m sorry,” he whispered, his pride cracking wide open. “for being a dick. for not knowing how to handle someone who actually… cares about me.” 

he stayed there, listening to the quiet hum of your music inside. he could picture you lying on the bed, headphones in, pretending you didn’t hear him. and honestly, maybe he deserved it. deserved to stew in it a little. but that didn’t stop the urge to fix it. 

“look,” he muttered, clearing his throat. “i don’t expect you to forgive me right now. hell, i don’t know if you ever will. but i’m not gonna pretend like it doesn’t matter to me. because it does.” 

his fingers brushed against the doorknob before he pulled away. “i’ll wait,” he said, softer now. “and when you’re ready to yell at me or cuss me out or whatever… i’ll be here.” 

and then he left, the hollow ache in his chest heavier than it had been in years. because losing you? that wasn’t something lee know could stomach. 

hyun ˠ jin 

hyunjin wasn’t good at waiting. you hadn’t said a word to him since the fight. not a glance, not a muttered complaint, not a teasing shove. the silence was brutal — worse than any shouting match you’d ever had, worse than when you used to push each other’s buttons just to see who’d crack first. but this time, it was different, because he’d gone too far. 

the words still echoed in his head, laced with heat and spite. he’d been tired. stressed. the comeback preparations were gnawing at his nerves, and the last thing he wanted was to drag you into it. but you’d called him out — like you always did when he started spiraling — and instead of leaning on you, he shoved you away. 

“maybe it’s easier if you just stay out of my life,” he’d snapped, his voice sharp enough to cut glass. 

the moment the words left his mouth, he felt it. that gut-wrenching regret, the instant knowledge that he didn’t mean it — not for a second. but it was too late. he watched the light drain from your face, watched your jaw clench like you were holding back tears. and then you left, the soft click of the door behind you feeling louder than any slammed one. 

now, hours later, the apartment was too quiet. the lack of your presence gnawed at him. hyunjin sat on the couch, a sketchbook in his lap, though his pencil hadn’t moved in ages. he kept glancing at his phone, willing it to light up with your name. an angry text. a scathing message. anything. but nothing came. 

“y/n,” he muttered to himself, scrubbing a hand down his face. “god, i’m such an idiot.” 

he finally got up, heart pounding, and padded toward your room. the door was cracked open, but you weren’t inside. the bed still made, the window slightly ajar. he bit his lip, guilt settling heavier in his chest. “can we… can we talk?” he asked softly, though the room stayed empty. 

hyunjin sighed, leaning against the doorframe. “i don’t know why i always do this. push people away when i’m hurting. you didn’t deserve that. you didn’t deserve any of it.” 

he blinked hard, his throat tight. the sketchbook in his hands felt heavier than ever. he flipped it open, revealing the latest page — a half-finished sketch of you. quietly beautiful, eyes crinkled in laughter like the way you used to look at him. 

“i keep trying to pretend i’m okay on my own,” he continued, voice breaking a little. “but the truth is… i’m not. not without you.” 

the silence felt suffocating. he left the sketchbook on your bed, open to that page, and stepped back. he didn’t expect you to forgive him right away. honestly, he wasn’t even sure if you’d come back tonight. yet he still hoped.

“whenever you’re ready,” hyunjin whispered, backing out of the room. “i’ll be here, waiting.” and for once, he meant to wait. 

jeong ˠ in 

jeongin knew the second the words left his mouth that he’d regret them. 

but in the heat of the moment — heart pounding, frustration thick in his chest — he hadn’t cared. he just wanted to win the argument. he wanted you to stop looking at him with that wounded expression, to stop making him feel like the bad guy. 

“i don’t even know why i bother with you sometimes,” he’d muttered bitterly, storming out before he could see the way your face crumpled. and now, he wished he hadn’t. because it had been two days. two entire days. 

you’d ignored his texts, left his calls unanswered, even avoided the group chat the two of you usually spammed with memes and inside jokes. at the dorm, he caught himself glancing at your contact every few minutes, wondering if maybe you’d just decide to yell at him and get it over with. anything would’ve been better than this complete, aching silence. 

jeongin hated this. hated not hearing your laugh. hated knowing he was the reason you weren’t smiling. he sat alone on the rooftop that night, hoodie pulled up, fiddling with his phone while his stomach churned. the city lights blurred below him, and every notification made his heart stutter — hoping, praying it was you. but it never was. 

“damn it,” he whispered, squeezing his eyes shut. he remembered the way you always brought him snacks after a long practice. the way you’d mock him for being dramatic but still hug him when he was down. the little things he took for granted until now. and now? he might’ve lost you for good because of his stupid temper. 

he scrolled through your old messages, fingers trembling a little when he reached a picture you’d sent a week ago — you and him at the arcade, grinning like idiots with matching plushies on your heads. his throat burned. 

“i didn’t mean it, y/n,” he whispered into the night. “i was angry. and scared. and stupid.” he bit his lip, hesitating before typing out yet another message. 

i miss you. i’m sorry.

he stared at the words, thumb hovering over the send button, before eventually locking his phone without sending it. because he knew sorry wouldn’t be enough this time. not right away. but jeongin wasn’t giving up. 

tomorrow, he’d wait outside your place with your favorite pastries. he’d sit in front of your door if he had to, leave notes, beg your forgiveness with every cheesy rom-com move he could think of. because losing you wasn’t an option. not to him. 

“i’ll fix this,” he promised quietly to the empty sky. “no matter what it takes.” 

han ˠ

han wasn’t used to you ignoring him. you were the one person who never made him feel like he was “too much.” the one who laughed at his dumb jokes, let him ramble at three a.m., and knew how to calm his overthinking when it spun out of control. but now… the silence was unbearable. 

he could still hear his own voice from that night, sharp and reckless in the heat of the argument. “you always do this! acting like you’re perfect when you’re just as messed up as the rest of us. maybe i need someone who isn’t always breathing down my neck.” 

the minute it came out, he regretted it. your face had fallen — not angry, just quietly devastated. and that hurt worse than if you’d screamed. yet instead of apologizing, han did what he always did when he didn’t know how to handle emotions: he ran. left before you could reply, thinking he’d cool off, come back, and fix it later. 

except later never came, because now you weren’t replying. not to his spam messages. not to the voice notes he left you at midnight. not to the random memes or his half-baked apologies typed and deleted a hundred times. 

even when he tried casually showing up outside your building with bubble tea like it was just another day, your roommate told him you didn’t want to see him. and han… han was spiraling. 

“idiot,” he cursed himself, pacing his room for the tenth time that night. his phone buzzed with group chat nonsense, and he barely glanced at it. his world felt a little too quiet without you in it. 

he lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling as the weight of everything sank in. you made him better. you kept him grounded when his brain turned against him. you were the only one who understood that when han cracked a joke, it sometimes meant he was falling apart underneath. and now? he might’ve ruined that. 

“i miss you,” he whispered into the emptiness of his room. his chest ached when he scrolled to your contact, thumb trembling as he typed. 

i get it if you don’t wanna talk. but please… can you just tell me if you’re okay? that’s all i need.

he sent it this time. didn’t care if it made him look desperate, because han jisung would rather be a fool in love than lose you forever. 

tomorrow, if you didn’t reply, he’d show up anyway. bring your favorite snacks, stand outside your door like a lovesick puppy, and refuse to leave until you opened it. he didn’t know how to be okay without you. and maybe he didn’t deserve you, but he wasn’t going to give up. not this time. 

seung ˠ min 

seungmin never expected you to forgive him easily. he knew you. you didn’t play games. if something hurt, you wouldn’t pretend it didn’t. but this… this silence hurt more than he was prepared for. he could still hear the words he’d thrown that night, laced with frustration and pride. “if you can’t handle being with someone like me, maybe you shouldn’t be with me at all.” 

he didn’t mean it. god, he didn’t mean it. it was the kind of thing you said in a moment where your pride bruised before your heart could catch up. you’d been calling him out for shutting down when he was stressed, for acting like he didn’t care. and instead of explaining that he cared too much, seungmin pushed back. 

it wasn’t his style to beg for forgiveness. he thought time and space would cool things down, that maybe in a day or two you’d send a dry text like, ‘you’re still an asshole.’ 

but nothing came. no good morning text. no sarcastic comeback in the group chat. no midnight video call asking if he ate. seungmin felt the emptiness in ways he didn’t know how to name. the apartment was too quiet without your teasing remarks. the coffee he made tasted wrong without your constant complaint that it was “too bitter, like your personality.” even the ridiculous variety shows you forced him to watch alone felt dull. 

he found himself checking his phone every few minutes, not even pretending it was for anything else. days passed like this. and though his pride tried to convince him it was fine, his heart knew better. you weren’t ignoring him to win a fight. you were hurt and he was the one who did it. 

seungmin sat on his couch one evening, your favorite snack in a bag beside him — he’d instinctively grabbed it on his grocery run. without thinking, he opened his messages. 

i’m not good at this. but i’m sorry. i said something i didn’t mean because i was scared you’d leave first. i get it if you don’t want to talk to me now, but… i miss you. and i’ll wait.

he sent it before his overthinking could stop him. then he stared at the screen. waited. hoped. even if you didn’t forgive him soon, seungmin promised himself he’d show up. in his own quiet, stubborn, seungmin way — one snack, one dry text, one poorly hidden soft moment at a time. because you mattered more than his pride ever could. 

chang ˠ bin 

changbin could deal with shouting. hell, he preferred it. if you screamed at him, told him he was an idiot, threw a pillow in his face and called him names — at least it meant you still cared enough to be mad. but this? this silence? it was killing him. 

it had started after that stupid fight. something small and dumb at first — he came home late from practice without texting, you were already upset from a bad day, words escalated, tempers flared. and in the heat of it, he’d let frustration speak for him. 

“if being with me’s such a burden, maybe you shouldn’t be.” the second it left his mouth, changbin wanted to snatch the words out of the air and swallow them whole. 

but your face… the way it fell, the way your eyes glossed over, like you physically felt those words hit you — he knew he fucked up. and now, three days later, you hadn’t answered his texts. you didn’t pick up his calls. he even sent you a voice note because you always teased him about how he sounded in them — but even that, left on read. 

when you crossed paths at the company building by accident, you didn’t spare him a glance. didn’t even acknowledge his presence. that crushed him more than he thought possible. 

in public, changbin still smiled, still cracked jokes with the boys, but they could see something was off. he was quieter. distracted. constantly checking his phone like a man waiting on a miracle. 

back home, your absence was everywhere. the sweatshirt you left on his chair. the playlist you made still queued on his speaker. your favorite mug untouched on the shelf. he missed you so bad it made his chest ache. 

one night, unable to take it anymore, changbin grabbed his keys and headed to your apartment. his hand shook when he knocked, heart pounding like it was trying to break out of his ribcage. 

you opened the door, expression guarded, arms crossed like a barrier between you and the storm he brought. 

“i know you don’t wanna hear from me,” changbin started, voice rough. “and you don’t owe me anything. but… i had no right to say what i did. i was pissed, and i took it out on you, and that’s not okay.” 

you stayed silent, but your eyes glistened. 

“i miss you. everything about you. even your nagging, even your bad taste in tv shows. i miss you so much it hurts.” he took a breath, chest tight. “i’m not here to beg. i’m here to tell you i’m sorry. and… that no matter how long it takes, i’ll be waiting for you to forgive me. ‘cause you’re it for me.” 

your gaze faltered for a second, and in that tiny crack, changbin let hope slip in. he didn’t know when — or if — you’d let him back in. but he’d wait. because some people are worth it, and for changbin, you always would be. 

notes: aww poor guys xp but anon wanted them to suffer so that’s all they’ll do this fic xD no part 2!

[intoblonde6ftwbbplayers]

lil Paige one shot

im bored rn || request are open!

also yes ik none of this is accurate probs but pls dont judge.

pairing - Paige Bueckers x y/n reader

summary - you and Paige are "close" fiends and the fans are suspicious especially seeing you guys interact on Kk's live

warnings - none just pure fluff and clingy Paige

||

Looking over at KK and Ice who had stopped arguing long enough to finally start the live. You went over to them and say hi to the people.

A string of comments rolled in asking how you were and how your test went last week. Even though you weren't on the team you were always with them, on lives, in posts, anywhere.

'Y/N OMG MY QUEEN HOW WAS YOUR TEST?'

'I LOVE Y/N'

'y/n you're so pretty ilyyy'

'Y/N Y/N Y/N'

'y/n apartment tour??'

'oh to be y/n'

you always loved reading comments. they were mostly kind to you and people were pretty funny. You would especially laugh when they realized Paige was there and start thirsting over her. I mean they weren't wrong about what they were saying about her.

Distracted while reading comments you didn't even notice the fact Paige was there you until she came up and wrapped her arms around your waist hugging you from behind putting her face in your neck.

"hey ma" she said into your neck that nickname had you weak although you tired your best to hide it.

Paige loved having her head in your neck or lying on you. Ever since the first time she fell asleep in 2 seconds after laying her head in your lap she decided that leaning her head on you was the best place in the world. Only for her though.

You didn't know it but whenever your other friends would get overly touchy with you it would make her so incredibly jealous. She would make it her mission to never leave you alone long enough for the to happen but thats a story for another time.

"Hey lil Paigey" you said teasingly to her. You called her a lot of nicknames but that one was always so funny to you and it was your favorite. Paige just hummed in response taking a deep breath still in her same position.

"you okay?" you asked quieter and with a little concern as she normally had so much energy but it seamed like right now all she wanted to do was be held (by you).

"dont worry y/n she's just tired from practice" Ice said.

"yeah a certain P Boogers forgot to set an alarm and showed up late to practice so coach made her do suicides" Kk said laughing a bit as they've all been there in the past and tease each other whenever something like this happens.

"broooo" Paige said finally looking up at KK and Ice. They both laugh at their teammate knowing its not serious and go back to answering comments from the live. So you go to do the same.

'is it just me or is Paige always touching y/n'

'I NEED PAIGE AND Y/N TO DATE'

'PAIGE IS SO FINE OMG'

'nah y/n and Paige need to just admit it atp'

'KK ILYYYYY'

'they never beating the allegations'

'PAIGE IS SO CUTE OMFG'

'I need to know what Geno said to Paige when she got there late'

As you scan through the comment you just laugh slightly and shake your head. One particularly got you to actually let out a laugh and you read it out loud.

"read these comments and found out they AREN'T tg??" just making you giggle again.

"sorry to break it to you guys but me and Paige are not dating she's just a little clingy" you say ending the sentence looking over at the blonde girl who is still wrapped around you.

While your speaking Kk moves to sit on the floor going to start on her legos but not before turning the camera to face you, Paige, and Ice

"I think it's more than a little at this point" Ice said looking at the two of you.

Before you can reply you're being pulled back the other side of the couch. You let yourself be dragged by Paige having an idea of what she wants. She sits you both down on the couch and goes to hug your waist again immediately collapsing into you like you knew she probably had been wanting to.

Kk and Ice look over and shake their heads at their teammate who is gripping onto you like a koala right now and Kk catching it all on camera

"alright maybe its more then a little but I don't mind" You say looking back at Ice while your hands slowly start running up and down Paiges back making their way under her hoodie to do so like you've done a million times

you've all forget about the live that Kk has currently propped up to face the three of you

"oh we know you don't" Ice replies with the biggest smirk ever

thats when you guys all remember your one live so when you look at the screen you already know all the comments are going to be about you and Paige

Kk tosses you the phone and you catch it now holding it so the screen looks like a FaceTime

you read though the comment and reply to as many as you can

'are you and Paige dating?' "no guys we are not dating just really good friends" you say with a soft smile looking down at her half asleep with her face in your chest

'idk if I wanna be y/n or Paige in this situation'

'PAIGE IS TOO CUTE OMFG'

'Y/N UR SO PRETTY ILYYYY'

'y/n and Paige deniers real quiet rn'

'Paige and Y/n are meant for each other'

'PAIGE AND Y/N SUPREMACY'

"listen guys if you've never cuddled with friends you're missing out just saying" you say with a shrug moving the camera to Paige knowing thats who most people wanna see anyway

"Paige anything you wanna say?" you say in a different tone knowing that everyone could probably hear the smile you have while talking to her. Because yes you did like Paige but you weren't sure if she liked you.

"Nah y/n right we just friends.. and I had a long day" Paige says turning her head so only half of it is against you now

"what's that thing called love-smth with like 5 different ones?" She asks you moving her head so her chin in now resting against you scooting up so your faces are closer and you're looking right at each other (with heart eyes coming from both of you)

"5 love languages?"

"mhm those isn't one of em touch or sum shit?" Paige asks you making sure she's right and once you nod she moves back to using you like a pillow and facing the screen again

"Yeah so I think its just that me and y/n both like the physical touch one so thats why we like this" Paige said to the fans knowing thats not the real reason she's so clingy with you

all you do is hum in response and begin playing with Paiges hair while she talks to the live

this goes on for a couple minutes until you hear Paiges talking slowing down and see her struggling to keep her eyes open

You take this as a sign that it might be time to end the live as Ice has gone to her room and Kk is locked in on the legos she's building

you take the phone from Paige and she mumbles a sleepy "thank you ma"

"alright guys we're all a little tired so ima end the live. We love you guys bye!" you say finally ending the live and tossing the phone back to Kk

Paige shift on top of you trying to get comfortable and as always she ends up with her head in the crook of you neck and her hands find their way to your hips under your hoodie

"I got you p just go to sleep" you say quietly in her ear as her breathing slows down and her eyes flutter shut

once the words leave your lips you can feel your own body relaxing further into the couch and let yourself fall asleep with her as well knowing that when you wake up there will be countless photos of you both circulating the gc and possibly their stories

||

thank you for reading

I hope you enjoyed!

[myfictionaldreams]

Hey, I was wondering if you are still going to write for Natasha Romanoff x reader. If you are, imagine something where the avengers don’t know that they are together, until one of them (maybe Tony because he talks too much) sees reader with hickies and messy hair early in the morning after an intense night 🤭. And then maybe Natasha would be wondering why she’s taking so long away and comes in after. 🤭🤭🤭🤭

⁀➷ Classified // Natasha Romanoff x F!Reader

Summary: A quiet night at Avengers Tower turns into something much more intimate when secrets begin to unravel—and nothing stays hidden forever.

Requested by: I'm so sorry it's taken me so long to write! I've actually had this drafted for months and months, but I'm so glad to finally get around to finalising it.

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, soft dom!Nat, sub!reader, doctor reader, secret relationship, marking (hickeys), hair pulling, minor injuries, fingering, oral, praise kink, protective nat, power play

Words: 2.4k

my masterlist 📚 AO3 Link

Restocking the medical supplies was usually a monotonous task that dragged endlessly. Today, however, you completed the task with the precision of someone trying not to think about worst-case scenarios.

Gauze, antiseptics, sutures—each item slid into place like it could stop your hands from shaking. The mission was supposed to be routine—in and out. But they were late. No one had heard a word from the jet in hours. 

While wiping down the already sterile and clean surface for the tenth time in the last two hours, you tried to avoid your colleagues’ quizzical looks, but your phone buzzed.

Heart thudding painfully in your chest, you snatched it up.

Natasha. Thank fuck.

You answers, relief flooding your chest. “Romanoff.”

“Mm”, came her voice, low and sultry. “I love it when you call me that. Makes me feel like a bad girl.”

Turning your back on the other doctors and nurses in the room, you tried to act casual, ignoring her remarks that had already caused heat to creep up your neck at her teasing. “How can I help you, Miss Romanoff? Are you in need of some medical assistance?”

Natasha laughs lightly down the phone at your professional response. “I need you to come to my room and check on me. My face has been missing its home between your legs.”

Her words caused an immediate reaction between your legs, your core tightening with arousal. Coughing to release some pent-up frustration, you tried to casually answer, “Your left knee? It hurts? Can you come to the hospital level, or do you need me to come to you?”

“You can come alright. I’m in my room. Alone.”

“I’ll be there shortly with my medical supplies.”

“That’s my girl.” The line went dead.

Pocketing your phone while turning to your colleagues, you tried to explain that you needed to attend to Black Widow’s knee. Slinging a medical bag over your shoulder, you tried to walk and not run like you wanted to out of the medical bay and into the elevator.

When stepping onto Avengers’ personal floor, you could see no other individual. Tentatively, you knocked once on her door before entering.

The room was dimly lit, and soft orange light from the setting sun cast through the ceiling-to-floor windows. Natasha, beautiful as ever, stood near her bed in just a sports bra and leggings. Her red hair was still damp from a quick shower, and the room was sweet from the scent of her body wash.

Those fierce green eyes clash with yours as you close the door.

“Shirt off”, she commands, her tone light but firm.

Blinking in response, you remark whilst dropping the bag onto the floor. “I thought I was here to check on you, baby.”

Natasha gives you her signature smirk. “You are. But I’ve missed you. And you’re wearing too many clothes for that, even though I love seeing you in those scrubs.”

Still, you stepped toward her first, fingertips brushing against her bare stomach that tensed at the action as you stared at the discoloured bruise along her left side. All excitement had quickly manifested into worry.

“How’d you do this?”

“Threw a guy over a railing. He didn’t go quietly. You know how it is.”

You sigh, pressing your palm gently over the bruised skin, checking how significant the bruising is. The lack of reaction from Nat was reassuring; you knew that her pain tolerance was higher than most of the US population.

“You need to rest. Ice. Maybe you shouldn’t be on your feet.”

She leans in, her voice a purr against your ear. “Then you’ll just have to keep me in bed, won’t you, Doc?”

There was barely any time to react before she was kissing you- hard and hot, like she’d been waiting days, weeks, too long. Her hands tangled in your hair, guiding your mouth open so she could taste you deeper. She tasted sweet, like cherries and gum.

Nat walked you backwards until your knees hit the bed. Collapsing onto the mattress, she’s quick to follow, straddling your hips with a predator’s grace.

It took entirely too long – seconds – for your shirt to be removed, but her lips are all over the moment it’s removed. From your neck, biting and licking, to your stomach, kissing and caressing with her tongue like she wanted to taste your entire body.

“You taste like antiseptic”, she murmurs against your skin, her admission not stopping her actions at all as she gently nipples on your collarbone, her fingers massaging your breasts through your bra. “And anxiety, did you miss me, hm?”

Tugging her closer, your nails dig into the flesh of her hips, “And you smell like trouble, baby.”

“Mmhm,” she hums in agreement, “but you love trouble, don’t you, Sugar?”

Her lips are on yours again with renewed hunger, but slower, like she savoured everything you had to offer. Your hands move to cup her arse, pulling her hips closer until you’re both grinding together.

“Let me take care of you for once.”

Natasha arched a brow. “You think I need taking care of?”

Flipping the two of you with surprising ease - meaning Natasha allowed you to do so - you hover over the assassin, taking a moment to admire the redness of her hair, mixing with the orange streaks of sun beaming through the window.

“You’re so fucking beautiful”, you breathe the words out as your fingers bring down the waistband of her leggings and underwear as she removes her own bra, leaving her completely naked beneath you.

While mindful of her bruised side, you eased her to the edge of the bed. Sinking to your knees, Natasha’s eyes darkened as she bit her lips, thighs spreading as you ease each leg over your shoulder.

“You’re going to ruin me, aren’t you?” she asks as she idly plays with her own nipples until they’re taunt, rosy and peaked.

You didn’t answer. Just pressed your lips to her inner thigh, slowly kissing your way upward. Her fingers laced through your hair, but her grip faltered when your mouth finally reached her. Tongue lickign up the length of her hairless pussy, adding pressure to slip betweens her softness to feel the firm, throbbing clit that drew out a choked sound from the back of her throat.

“Fuck,” she goans, her eyes closing and head tipping back.

You work her slowly. Needing to memorise her taste, the sounds she makes, the way her body moves from her hips, trying to dictate your movements by a subtle role, to the way her strong thighs nearly suffocate you between them. 

“Don’t stop,” she rasps, the hand in her hair tightening to the point of pain. “God, baby, just like that.” 

You were never going to stop, even if you couldn’t breath as your lips sealed around her clit. Two fingers slipped inside, curling in time with your pulsing mouth, the other hand pressing lightly above her pubic bone, attempting to keep her hips on the bed so you can have some form of control.

You watch, memsorised as her cunt begins to pulse around your fingers. Back arching, thighs unbelievably tight around your face, a moan so breathtaking that you’re sure your own arousal is now staining your scrubs with how turned on you were. She was utterly fucking beautiful.

Ever the dom, Natasha’s orgasm hadn’t even subsided fully before she’s pulling your body back onto the bed, swapping your positions so you’re lying against the sheets.

“That was dangerous,” she teases against your mouth, nipping your lower lip between her teeth until it snaps back to place. Now, I’m going to have to remind you who’s really in charge.”

Her slender fingers skim beneath your waistband, teasing and lingering.

“Say it”, she says against your throat. “Say you missed me.”

“I missed you.” Your voice quivers as her fingers finally dip lower, brushing beneath your underwear, touching exactly where you want her most.

She was always like this, dominant and teasing, but you’re always rewarded.

“That’s my girl, always so wet for me”, she compliments before sucking on the skin to the point of pain beneath your ear. You grunt at the mix of discomfort and pleasure as her fingers idly stroke over your soaked pussy.

There was no rushing Natasha, not when she’d been kept from you for so long. A small part of you worried that the other doctors and nurses would wonder where you’d disappeared, too, but all rational thoughts escaped you as she spread your labia, pressing her finger directly there.

One finger, became two, slipping inside as you gasped and arched into her, rolling your hips until her palm is pressing against your clit. With slow, deep curls, Natasha's fingers have your thighs trembling and breathy moans becoming desperate in no time at all.

All the while, she keeps her forehead pressed against yours, eyes locked on your face, studying every moan, every flutter of your lashes.

“God, look at you,” she whispers, voice rough. “Fall apart for me. Are you going to cum on my fingers, Sugar?”

You nod your head, whimpering as she applies more pressure to your clit. Bucking up and grabbing her shoulders. “Please - Natasha-!”

“I’ve got you”, she promises, lowering her face now until she’s biting your nipples through your bra in a sharp sting of pain.

You came with with a startled cry, your cunt pulsing around her fingers, sucking her in deeper, like your body never wanted to give up. She keeps the pressure, continues to curl her fingers as your orgasm draws on and on until you’re a pile of numbness, still half dressed from work.

Nat withdraws her fingers with slow movements, leaving you twitching in the sensitive area. Watching her movements, you groan deeply as she sucks her wet fingers into her mouth, tasting your juices with a pornographic moan, her eyes clossing as she savoures the taste.

She curls around you protectively, damp fingers brushing against your cheeks whilst kissing your temple, then your shoulder. Lazily dragging her lips down your neck, sucking another deepy hickey against your skin. 

Groaning whilst half-laughing, “You’re marking me on purpose”.

She smiles against your skin. “Obviously. You’re mine.”

~~~~~~~~

Later, you were lounging on one of the couches at the tower’s low-key celebration, which was never really low-key when it came to Tony Stark. Thankfully, you owned a turtlenecked dress that was soft and comfortable on your sensitive, heavily marked skin.

Something Natasha noticed as she caught you in a dark crevice, easing away your neckline to admire her artwork with a bite of her full lips. That wasn’t all, though. Usually, at public events, the two of you would stay on opposite sides of the room, but tonight, Nat couldn’t help herself.

Frequently, she would walk back, her warm hand brushing the small of your back, her eyes watching your every sip, every shift in your chair; your secret girlfriend missed nothing.

Since then, the party has dwindled to only a handful of individuals, who are, for the most part, members of the Avengers or close friends.

“You know,” the billionaire loudly declared while holding up his glass of scotch. I know I’m a genius, and you guys never really appreciate it, but I’ve just cracked a code, and I need to share.”

Not thinking anything of it, you continued to idly sip from your drink, eyes flicking to the red-haired woman sitting across from you in the circle of couches.

“I know who’s been sneaking around like hormone-crazed teenagers.” Tony grins widely. You stiffen, eyes once more flicking to Natasha, who remains nonchalant. Her reaction has you calming. Of course, he wouldn’t know about you and Natasha. She’s an assassin; she could keep secrets, hide in plain sight, and, of course, your relationship was still hidden.

However, as your eyes moved back to the billionaire staring only at you, you knew nothing good would come from his next words. “Our very own medbay angel and Miss Romanoff. Caught the Doc here leaving her bedroom with messy hair and a constellation of hickets. Pretty classic evidence, honestly.”

A beat of silence followed. Every head turned to look at you. At Natasha. At the space between you.

All you can do is freeze. Not blinking. Not breathing. They knew. They all knew. The attention made your skin feel too tight, like your heartbeat had jumped outside your body.

It wasn’t just embarrassment—it was vulnerability. The intimacy you’d guarded for so long was exposed. It was no longer a private, secret thing. It was no longer yours and Natasha's alone.

Finally, dragging a deep breath in, the urge to flee the room came over you, but an enraged redhead stepped into your path. Her arms rested comfortingly on your upper arms, thumbs stroking in slow circles. The energy rolling off of her was unmistakable. She was protective, sharp, and unapologetic.

“That’s enough”, she said evenly, tone calm but laced with authority. “We kept it private for a reason, Tony.”

The man blinked, taken aback by the reaction from the room. “Hey, it’s not a bad thing-”

“She’s not a punchline,” Natasha continues to defend you. “And this isn’t gossip. I don’t want the whole world, including our enemies, Stark, knowing what she means to me. Understand?”

You felt her hand slip behind you, curling gently around your wrist, anchoring. But the tremble of anger was evidently there.

“Nat,” you whisper, stepping closer to her side as your heart hammered.

Turning away from her friends and colleagues, her features soften, eyes tracking every emotion written across your face. “You okay?”

You nod, even if you weren’t entirely sure.

She leans in, her breath tickling your eye. “You’re mine. And I’m not letting anyone make you feel small about it. Not even Stark,”

There was another beat of silence until Clint, of all people, groaned and toasted an empty beer bottle at Tony’s head. “It took you this long to figure that out? I’ve had fifty bucks on them for months.”

“Same,” said Sam, raising his hand.

Steve snorted, “I told you she wasn’t just icing her injury in the medbay.”

Tony looked around, betrayed. “You all knew?”

Bucky shrugged. “It wasn’t that subtle.”

Laughter filled your ears from those surrounding you. Natasha’s grip on your wrist eased, but her hand kept you close. Exhaling shakily, you watched the group ease back into their jokes and drinks, the weight slowly lifting from your chest.

When you glanced back at Natasha, she was already looking at you. She pressed a sweet kiss to your cheek. “Not a secret anymore. Now there’s no hiding that you’re mine.”

And somehow, that made it all ok.

[astonmartinii]

royally screwed | jack doohan social media au

pairing: jack doohan x fem royal!reader

head up king, your tiara is falling

MASTERLIST | TIP JAR

f1

liked by jackdoohan, danielricciardo and 1,204,899 others

tagged: pierregasly & francocolapinto

f1: that’s something both franco and the alpine mechanics won’t want to see back… the argentine takes both himself and his teammate out of the race!

view all comments

user1: i’m so sorry all the karma got directed to you franco i was aiming for flávio i swear

user2: idk what kind of voodoo protection that old man has but even my etsy witch can’t defeat it

user3: what if we ALL paid etsy witches?

user4: not gonna lie guys there’s an easier way to deal with this… it’s called a dark alley and a charging car

user5: oh?!

user6: honestly? valid reaction at this point

alpinef1team: we’ll get them next time!

user7: but who is getting YOU?

user8: sorry social media admin but i’m sad so i fear you’re going to have to hear about it

user9: how DARE you make jack do all of those stupid ass tiktoks and let me get attached :(

user10: making him do all of this social media stuff and didn’t keep him around long enough to finish his soft launch

user11: do NOT remind me

user12: it was so carefully planned and everything

user13: really? that’s what you’re angry about?

user12: let me live? i’m in mourning and thinking about his actual career will make me crash out heavier than the alpines today

user14: okay you have a point

user15: rip alpine you would’ve love jack doohan … oh wait!

user15: @alpinef1team CHOKE

this comment was liked by oscarpiastri, daniel ricciardo, jackdoohan and yourusername

user15: oh WOW my comment collected some big likes

user15: oscar? yeah makes sense. daniel? cool aussie bromance. jack? obviously. y/n windsor? WHY THE FUCK IS THE PRINCESS OF ENGLAND IN MY LIKES?

user16: she has an account?

user17: it’s all her charity stuff mostly but she has been caught like sports stuff before lol

user18: y/n idk what kind of powers come with being a princess but i know you’re next in line so PLEASE GET JACK HIS SEAT BACK

user19: actually any seat will do we’re not fussy

user20: alpine… look at what you’ve made us

yourusername and jackdoohan

liked by oscarpiastri, kimiantonelli and 13,983,029 others

yourusername and jackdoohan: surprise! jack and i have finally decided to make our relationship public as we continue to prepare to settle down.

we first met many years ago when i was on duty at the british grand prix and met a very charming boy who was racing in formula 3 at the time, and i have been smitten ever since.

i have supported jack in his racing and wanted to make that support public in these particularly tough times.

while i’m sure this is a big shock for you all, we ask that you continue to respect our privacy.

view all comments

user21: i’m sorry

user21: WHAT THE FUCK

user21: i can’t tell if this is helping my alpine induced misery or not

isackhadjar: HUH?

jackdoohan: you knew i was in a relationship ?

isackhadjar: i’m sorry but how was i meant to deduce that “my girlfriend y/n” actually means the princess of england

jackdoohan: do i not seem princely to you?

isackhadjar: do not try and set me up

isackhadjar: unless there’s some eligible royals who can get down with a freaky lil guy like me

yourusername: probably not best to frame it that way?

isackhadjar: yes, your grace! (am i doing it right i’ve only ever watched game of thrones)

yourusername: you can just call me y/n, isack

isackhadjar: OMG COOL

user22: so i thought this would excite me more but now im just thinking we could’ve gotten these type of reactions on film and in the paddock

user23: how do we know they’re not being filmed

user24: i’m in their walls

oscarpiastri: what?

jackdoohan: can i have the aussie seat after you win the championship pretty please ?

oscarpiastri: i am not answering that until you tell me how the fuck you ended up in the british royal family?

jackdoohan: can you not read anymore? y/n explained it pretty well in the caption…

oscarpiastri: i’m gonna need some more detail

yourusername: you’re more than welcome to come for some tea at ours oscar

oscarpiastri: AT THE PALACE?

oscarpiastri: i mean - yeah that sounds good to me!

kimiantonelli: ME TOO IM COMING TOO

olliebearman: i can’t believe you’ve not invited the only british rookie jack :(

jackdoohan: idk if you guys missed it but im not a rookie any more, im not even a driver

yourusername: enough of that, you can all come for tea and we’ll do some visits to the london hospitals while we’re at it

gabrielbortoleto: yay count me in!!!

isackhadjar: today just keeps getting better and better

user25: dropping this news to distract from the fact that he got dropped for the far superior driver

user26: i wouldn’t be surprised if his woman drops him for franco as well

yourusername: first of all, i am no one’s “woman” get that right and second of all, jack is the kindest, funniest and most gentle man in the world and you’d have to move heaven and earth to take him away from me

jackdoohan: i love you <3

user27: oop - she told yall

kimiantonelli

liked by charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1 and 1,023,488 others

tagged: olliebearman, jackdoohan & yourusername

kimiantonelli: yo this royal stuff is kinda crazy …

view all comments

user28: fomo has never fomo-ed this bad before

user29: the fact that she knew this would get a load of publicity so she used it for good >>

user30: and this is why she’s my fave royal !!!

yourusername: i hope you had a wonderful time kimi! thank you so much for joining us.

kimiantonelli: are you kidding? that was insane !!!!

kimiantonelli: and also it was very fun to meet all of the children

kimiantonelli: but can we please take the aston martin for a spin again ???

jackdoohan: kimi ???

kimiantonelli: like y/n didn’t tell us that you take her for drives in it all the time …

jackdoohan: y/n ???

yourusername: what? you’re an amazing driver and i love watching you do what you love!

user31: i wish alpine weren’t such FUCKHEADS i want this dynamic at silverstone so bad

user32: if they didn’t fumble this bad we could’ve gotten a monaco situ where she could’ve presented the trophies every year

user33: you could’ve shot me and it would’ve hurt less

maxverstappen1: hmm

charles_leclerc: hmmm

alexalbon: hmmmm

georgerussell63: hmmmmm

landonorris: hmmmmmm

carlossainz55: hmmmmmmm

lewishamilton: hmmmmmmmm

kimiantonelli: you guys good? sorry you weren’t cool enough to be invited

maxverstappen1: i’m literally an officer in the order of orange-nassau???

lewishamilton: IM A SIR?

lewishamilton: I WAS LITERALLY KNIGHTED BY Y/N?

yourusername: sorry gentlemen, you should’ve spoken up sooner. however, jack and i are hosting a charity ball between canada and the red bull ring?

alexalbon: IM SO THERE

alexalbon: i’m so there, security are telling me the ball is weeks away but im so there

charles_leclerc: YIPEE

georgerussell63: omg my first royal event… gasp!

user34: obsessed with how the grid get so excited about all of this

user35: max … asking to go to an event ???

user36: and to think we could’ve had it every weekend :(

yourusername

liked by jackdoohan, isackhadjar and 12,309, 788 others

tagged: jackdoohan

yourusername: it was such an honour to host this dinner to raise funds for the youth art network! so many children in our country are being pushed out of artistic fields because of the lack of funding, hopefully with these funds and the continued support from jack and i, we can help keep britain creative!

view all comments

user37: they’re actually so precious to me

user38: this is such a great initiative i’m so glad they do things like this with their money and time!

user39: i’ve honestly never seen jack happier

user40: good for him!!! making the best out of a bad situation - this probably also means he won’t be going back to f1, at least not with alpine

francocolapinto: jack might not be in this garage anymore, but i'd still love a visit from you

user41: ummmmmmmm… what?

user42: this is really not cool

pierregasly: let’s delete this while you can

francocolapinto: shooters shoot, isn’t that what you said?

pierregasly: yeah to a girl at the bar maybe, not a royal who is very clearly in a relationship

francocolapinto: i took his seat, i can take his girl too

yourusername: excuse me?

francocolapinto: you’re saying you can’t give me one chance to convince you of my worth?

yourusername: at this point you have one chance to convince me why i shouldn’t find the one legal loophole that means jack can kick your ass

francocolapinto: woah?

yourusername: there’s no charming your way out of this one, franco. jack has done nothing to you and yet you allow your fans to send him countless death threats and flirt with his fiancée openly. find some respect for yourself franco, you won’t be this young forever.

user43: HOLY SMOKES

user44: i can’t even get caught up on the way she snapped here because of the FIANCÉE mention

user45: no this bro must’ve been testing her patience because never in my life have i seen her snap at someone like that

user46: so valid from her though

user47: honestly i’d throw hands for less

jackdoohan: always an honour to just be at your side and help you achieve the wonderful things you do

yourusername: even when i accidentally reveal our engagement while having an argument on the internet

jackdoohan: especially then

yourusername: i love you!

yourusername: and i know doohan was a pretty cool name for merch before, but i feel like windsor could look pretty good on a car or a cap

jackdoohan: if it means i have a little piece of you wherever i go, sign me up

user48: aside from confirmation that he’s going to take her name - ON A CAR? doohan return confirmed ?

user49: they need to stop playing with my feelings so many times on one post

user50: so this might be a royal fuck up from franco right?

f1

liked by jackdoohan, yourusername and 2,309,472 others

f1: BREAKING: flávio briatore has been forced to resign from his position as team principal at alpine! princess y/n windsor and jack doohan attended the friday of the british grand prix where briatore was served by windsor’s legal team, who had found that the contracts given out by briatore were not legally binding. briatore left the paddock on the friday evening long before windsor and doohan, who were seen with a number of team personnel from across the paddock. Colapinto will complete this race weekend but his future with the team is now up in the air.

view all comments

user51: one moment of peace and quiet in f1, that's all i ask

user52: i can't even go to sleep without waking up to five breaking news graphics

user53: honestly? if they were all like this i wouldn't mind it...

user54: jack and y/n being in the likes is so funny to me

user55: babe they're not just in the likes, they were there in person to deliver the news

user56: i knew flavio should've been worried when the relationship was revealed... those royals WILL have the best lawyers

user57: i mean i only just found out that flavio is/was jack's manager?

user58: HE WAS JACK'S MANAGER?

user59: i know their lawyer was just as bamboozled as us

pierregasly: CAN I PLEASE GET A DRINK? PLEASE?

user60: bro it's only friday ...

pierregasly: I HAVE NO TP? I HAVE NO CLUE WHAT'S HAPPENING WITH MY TEAM?

jackdoohan: our bad!

pierregasly: no yall did what you had to do but i was hoping i could maybe get a bottle of something top shelf for my troubles

kikacgomes: and maybe a horse ride at the palace ???

charles_leclerc: can leo meet the corgis???

lewishamilton: u.k. met gala when?

jackdoohan: oh so i get engaged to a princess and suddenly you all want to be my friend?

pierregasly: WOAH ignore all of them, we're the victims here!

yourusername: at this point, if we can turn it into a charity event, we can do whatever you want

maxverstappen1: this is a dangerous precedent

maxverstappen1: and i'm willing to find the limits

user61: i'm having visions of the f1 grid at a royal wedding...

user62: does max know he can't wear skinny jeans to a royal wedding?

maxverstappen1: please refer to my last comment

user63: does he know that the secret service can shoot him on sight if he does wear them?

maxverstappen1: HUH?

jackdoohan: that's true... they told me themselves!

yourusername: jack...

jackdoohan: i am protecting the dress code of our future wedding!

kimiantonelli: i guess you could say he's royally screwed

kimiantonelli: ????

kimiantonelli: i thought it was funny :(

kimiantonelli: no worries guys y/n told me irl she thought it was funny

kimiantonelli: WAIT

kimiantonelli: I SAID NOTHING

jackdoohan

liked by oscarpiastri, charles_leclerc and 4,920,482 others

tagged: yourusername

jackdoohan: jack WINdsor at your duty! i've been given a second chance at my dream, but i wouldn't be here without my family and my amazing fiancee. i promise i'll make you proud.

view all comments

user64: i WILL not cry about this

user65: i tried not to but BABY JACK

user66: i think people forget how young he still is :(

yourusername: i'll forever be proud of you, my love. no matter what

yourusername: however, i think the palace would look extra dashing with some trophies ...

jackdoohan: for you? anything

yourusername: oh my charming boy, i'm not sure i want to share you with f1 again so soon

jackdoohan: but you will come with me won't you?

yourusername: to be without you is a thorn in my side

user67: FUCK ME THEY'RE SO CUTE

user68: i love them so much

user69: i don't think yall are ready for the level of paddock fashion we're going to get with a literal princess...

user70: wait - what happens when as inherits the throne?

user71: i think jack would have to retire

user72: WHAT?

user73: that's just how the royal life is

jackdoohan: and i'll do it

yourusername: i appreciate the concern everyone, but my mother is in good health and has many, many years left as queen

user74: jack doohan/windsor first kilf (king i would like to fuck)

user74: i've been blocked by y/n ????

user74: AND JACK?

oscarpiastri: you got MARRIED WITHOUT US ???

jackdoohan: once again, can you not read a caption?

oscarpiastri: oh lol.

oscarpiastri: i just saw windsor and started yelling at my phone

user75: obsessed with how jack having a f1 seat is actually great for the british government

user76: diplomatic relations are on the UP because government officials come to races to meet and talk with y/n

user77: and the fact that they both still find time to do charity work in each country they go to.. they’re so precious to me

yourusername: i never thought i'd be planning a royal wedding around the formula one calendar, but there's a first for everything

jackdoohan: but a summer wedding is so cute?

yourusername: i know, my love

yourusername: but flower picking via face time has been a struggle

jackdoohan: i know whatever you choose will be perfect

jackdoohan: just like you

yourusername: i love you, sweet talker

jackdoohan: i love you too sweetheart

fin.

note: as you can tell I AM NOT HAPPY. i like franco but justice for my queen jack. updates for you all, other side of the moon chap 7 is about 80% done so that's exciting !!!! hope you are all good despite the many many horrors lol xx

[sknyuz]

Can you please do the prompt "three words. just say the three words." With Na Baek-Jin but make it enemies to lovers and full of yearning😭😭💗

prompt — “three words. just say the three words.” pairing — academic rival!na baekjin x reader genre — academic rivals to lovers, highschool, mutual pining, soft angst cw — academic pressure, tension, one kiss, just that type of yearning where you almost hate both of them for it wc — ~700 notes: i wrote this on someone else's laptop so sorry if the layout or my writing is a lil wonky ToT this was pretty rushed/not proofread

masterlist | join the taglist | request a fic

you and baekjin have been neck and neck for as long as you can remember. same grade, same extracurriculars, same perfectly neat handwriting across test papers the teachers always returned with that look, the one that silently said, again? you two?

he always rolled his eyes when they called your names together, like it was a curse, and you did the same.

still, somehow, every quiz bee, every debate tournament, every single research camp—you ended up beside him. not by choice. just... fate, or bad luck, or the fact that your scores matched to the decimal.

you told yourself you hated him. but sometimes, you caught him looking. there are stolen moments that you two share. like that one time, late night in the library, when you both reached for the same textbook and your hands brushed—and neither of you moved away.

or the time you caught him staring at you mid-question during the final round of an academic bee, and he looked so focused, like he was memorizing your face instead of the answer.

and then there was that out-of-province regional thing last fall—when they messed up the room assignments and you two were forced to share a bed in some tiny guesthouse. the silence was thick. your backs were to each other. but sometime in the middle of the night, you woke up and he was facing you, but neither of you moved.

and now, senior year. your last nationals together. you’ve both just won it all—a team victory, but the only hand you felt trembling slightly against yours was his. his knuckles brushed yours during the final round, and you should’ve pulled away. but you didn’t, your fingers intertwined as you bowed together, closing off your championship run.

later, when the noise dies and the cameras are gone, you find each other alone behind the auditorium. he’s still in his blazer, medal heavy around his neck. the low light hits his profile just right—jaw clenched, throat bobbing.

"you didn’t have to stay back," you say quietly, as you organized the notes in your bag. “everyone’s at that hot pot place by now.”

"i know," he replies, just as quiet. "but... i knew you would."

you scoff. “of course you do.”

he studies you in that quiet, calculating way he does before a competition—except now, there’s no scoreboard, just the way his eyes soften like he’s tired of pretending.

"you know, bakejin, i kinda hate this," you whisper. it slips out. too raw, too real.

"what?"

"this thing between us." your voice wavers. "i mean, do we really still see each other as rivals, or is this just an excuse to keep whatever this is going?" you say, motioning between you and him. “we’re seniors now, baekjin. not kids.” a few months from now you won’t be winning competitions with him, sneaking glances at him while you studied for the next—hell, you might never even see baekjin again.

but baekjin takes a step closer, and your heart starts counting every second like it’s timed.

"then say it," he murmurs.

you blink. "say what?"

"three words," he says. "just say the three words."

your heart stutters.

"i hate you?" you offer, shaky.

he exhales—sharp, almost annoyed. not at you, but at the space between what you’re saying and what you mean. “no.”

you pause.

you know what he means. you know exactly what he means.

but you’ve spent so long pretending you didn’t.

he speaks first, his voice is quieter now. more raw than you’ve ever heard it.

"i love you."

the words land heavy. like a confession and an accusation all at once. and god, the way he looks at you after—like he’s bracing for the moment you walk away. like he already expects you to run.

but you don’t.

you step in, closing the distance. you let your fingers graze his—not by accident like earlier onstage, but deliberately.

"then i love you too," you say, as your other hand reaches up to curl your fingers around his tie, pulling him into a chaste kiss. you were both winners, after all.

note: i accidentally posted this while doing last minute edits lol so i edited it some more and decided to let it stay up instead of reuploading. ig i offer this as a token of my appreciation for the love surrounding my weak hero class works <3

𐔌 . ⋮ taglist .ᐟ weak hero class ֹ ₊ ꒱ @kstrucknet | @loserlvrss @nanamiswifesatorusgf @hateateez @slytherinshua @winnie-bunnie @rexxiiia @mrgzzarella @ilyhachii @youmeshii @actuallynarii @midnight--raine @d4ily-s-nsh1ne @trasshy-artist @crowneve @juicyjam @xh01bri @onyourlisa345 @triciawritesstuff @prettywhenicry4 @dripoftheseus @rosieparkk @gacktsa @sopitadearvejas @satorustorm (ask to be tagged or removed)

[jiminsafairy]

secret encounters- jungkook (bathroom s*x +18)

pairings :waiter!jungkook x reader

summary: you are in the middle of an awfull date, when the hot waiter gives you a note: 'meet me in the bathroom'. And you don't hesitate to follow him.

warnings: public, unprotected sex (WRAP IT BEFORE YOU TAP IT GUYSS!!), oral - female and male -. It wouldn't be a fic of mine if it had't a lot of tit action, right?

wc:1k

a/n: SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG, but this is based on this ask!! thank you lots for the request, I'd love to hear what you think about it!

The restaurant’s dim, the kind of place that tries a little too hard to feel expensive. Your date — a finance bro your parents set you up with, hasn’t stopped talking about himself since the appetizers hit the table.

Followers, job titles, some condo he just bought downtown — it’s all background noise now.

You look up. The hot waiter walks past your table. Your eyes meet for half a second before he looks away, a subtle smile tugging at his lips.

Your date keeps rambling. You sip your drink. Glance over again — the waiter refilling waters a few tables over, but when his gaze flicks to yours this time, it lingers.

When he circles back to your table, it’s to drop off another round. His fingers brush yours — light, but deliberate. You meet his eyes.

“Anything else?” he asks, voice low.

Your date’s too busy talking with his mouth full to notice the heat crawling up your neck.

“I’m good,” you say, barely above a whisper.

He nods and turns away — but not before sliding a folded piece of paper onto the edge of your plate.

“Meet me in the last stall.”

You give your date some lame excuse, and go straight to the bathroom.

You step into the women’s bathroom, heart hammering, the note clutched tight in your hand.

The last stall door is cracked open. He's waiting.

You push it open and he grabs you instantly, pulling you in with one hand on your waist, the other locking the door.

Then his mouth is on yours — rough, breathless. He presses you against the cold stall wall, his body tight to yours, hips grinding with zero subtlety.

You gasp into the kiss, "I don’t even know your name."

He smirks, lips brushing yours. "Jungkook. Now you do."

You whisper, "Y/N."

And then you’re kissing again, messy and deep, like you’re already addicted.

"You’ve been fucking teasing me all night," he mutters, lips grazing your jaw.

You tug him closer by the waistband of his pants. "And what are you gonna do about it, pretty boy?"

He doesn’t answer — just drops to his knees.

Your dress gets shoved up, panties dragged down. Jungkook spreads your legs and dives in like he’s starving, tongue licking through your folds, groaning like your taste is everything he’s been waiting for.

Your hands grab at the stall, body trembling as he sucks on your clit, tongue working filthy circles until your knees almost give.

You cum quick and hard, biting your wrist to stay silent. He stands, mouth shiny, breathing heavy.

"My turn." you say.

You drop to your knees, unbuckling his belt with shaking fingers. His cock springs free — thick and hard, already leaking.

You give a few slow licks up his length, teasing, then take him into your mouth inch by inch, tongue swirling around the head.

"Shit…" he breathes, hand sliding into your hair.

As you work him deeper, his other hand reaches for the top of your dress, but you don't stop him. He pulls the neckline down, exposing your tits completely.

"God damn," he groans, staring. "I couldn’t stop thinking about these all night."

He cups them while you suck him, thumbing over your nipples, squeezing the soft weight of them in his hands like he’s worshiping every inch.

"You look so fucking hot like this," he mutters, cock twitching in your mouth. "Pretty tits bouncing while you choke on my cock."

You moan around him, and he tightens his grip in your hair, thrusting deeper. When he pulls you off with a wet pop, you’re gasping for air, lips swollen.

"Turn around. Now."

You do — hands braced against the stall door. He hikes your dress up again, pulls your panties the rest of the way off.

His hands slide up your body, cupping your breasts again from behind, softly pinching your nipples while his cock grinds against your ass.

"Fuck, these are perfect," he mutters, hands still caressing your tits, "So soft… even better than I imagined."

He strokes himself once, and lines up.

But before he can thrust in — the bathroom door creaks open.

Footsteps. Heels on tile.

You freeze but he doesn't.

He covers your mouth with one hand, the other still squeezing your breast as he slides into you slow and deep. You whimper into his palm, body clenching hard around him.

"Shh," he whispers in your ear. "You gotta stay quiet, baby."

He keeps fucking you — slow, measured thrusts that somehow feel worse than fast. Deep and grinding, the kind that makes you want to scream but can’t.

And while one hand stays over your mouth, the other never leaves your chest — fingers rolling your nipple, tugging, teasing as he keeps thrusting.

The woman in the bathroom flushes. Washes her hands. Dries them.

You think she’s gone. You hope she didn’t hear the soft thud of your bodies. Or your whimpers.

Then the door closes, and Jungkook pulls his hand from your mouth, grabs your hips, and slams into you harder now — the kind of pace that leaves bruises and makes your tits bounce wildly against the stall door.

"You did so fucking good," he pants. "Took it so quietly… but you wanted to scream, didn’t you?"

You whine, nodding, barely able to speak.

"Let me hear it now."

You cry out as he fucks you deeper, faster, sending shockwaves through your body. His hand slips between your thighs and finds your clit, rubbing tight circles until your vision goes white.

You cum with a strangled moan, legs shaking, walls pulsing around him. He groans loud and raw, thrusts once more and spills inside you, forehead pressed to your back.

Silence.

He pulls out, tucks himself in. You fix your dress with trembling hands, panties forgotten on the floor. You meet his eyes in the mirror above the sink. No words, just that undeniable pull still there.

Then, softly, you say, "This never happens again."

He nods, but when you push open the bathroom door, every part of you already knows: this wasn’t the last time.

[anniebeckcalla]

"i swear, we're just friends!"

being 'platonic' with the 00z (yeah okay)

(non-idol crush! 00z x reader) ◦ ₊WC! 780< ◦ ₊[NOT PROOFREAD!]◦ ₊ CW! fluff, nothing more than that. (maybe i could put a CW for how boring it is because there is no smut!) ◦ ₊ masterlist | cafe | click here!

C's NOTE. sorry that this is so boring...I guess we could say that this is a filler story. better stories and drabbles are coming, friends ♡

jaemin

The city Primark was busy with everyone and their mother that weekend; it had been a mistake to go shopping today. Sweaty bodies pushed past you, not caring if they trod on your toes or brushed your bag. The mixed noise of people chattering and bad music made your eardrums ache. It was more than you could bear. You stood still, breathing deeply, trying to find an island of peace in the sea of madness. “Y/n, are you okay?”

You looked across at Jaemin, grateful that he had agreed to come along on your spree with you. “I'm okay,” you replied. You certainly didn't feel okay, that was obvious to see. Jaemin took your hand in his. “Come on,” he said. You followed him, weaving through the rails of clothes and greedy shoppers. You found yourself at the exit of the shop, and once you were outside, you sighed with relief. “Sorry, y/n,” Jaemin said. “We can go back later when it isn't so busy-” “It's alright,” you cut through him. “Thanks for helping me out.” Your gaze fell to your interlocked hands. “Do you mind if I kept holding your hand for a bit longer?” you said. “I just wanted-"

“You can hold on for as long as you want,” Jaemin smiled. “I'll always be here for you.”

jeno

Oh, my laces came undone,” you exclaimed, crouching down to fix your scruffy Converses. Unfortunately, it wasn't easy to tie your shoes when you had a milkshake in one hand and your phone in the other. “Go on, Jeno. It's okay. I don't want to slow us down.” Jeno shrugged. “I'd rather wait for you.” Your cheeks and ears burned as you fiddled with your laces, your fingers slipping and sliding clumsily. “Look, y/n,” Jeno said, getting closer, “stand up. Let me do it for you.” You rose, watching down in awe as Jeno fixed the laces into perfect bows. He looked up, and you two locked eyes for a moment, silence growing as a shy smile lit up his face. He really didn't have to help you tie your laces, and you both knew that. “Well,” he said, breaking the moment as he got up, “let's get going, then.” As you resumed walking, you made a silent note to keep your shoelaces loose in the future.

haechan

“These cravings are killing me.” You sighed, leaning forward on the bench table with your head in the crook of your arm. “If only I'd appreciated my life when the bakery was open!” Haechan rubbed your arm gently. “I know, honey,” he replied. You gazed at him as if he was a fairy godmother. “I could use theiir brownies right now,” you whispered. Haechan smirked as he reached into his bag. “I may have an answer for that,” he said, pulling out a tupperware container. When he opened it, a smile lit up your face. “Brownies, Haechan? Where did you magic them up from?”

Haechan rolled his eyes. “Magic them? I baked them myself, silly. Take one.” You selected the biggest brownie and took a bite. The crunchy top gave way to the soft fudginess of the inside. The blend of the ingredients made sparkled chocolate euphoria exploding all over your mouth. They were almost as good--better--than the bakery's. “So good,” you sighed, taking another bite. Haechan shrugged. “I'm glad. It took me five tries to make them that perfect ” He pushed the box towards you. “They're all yours.” “No, I couldn't,” you flushed, slightly embarrassed. “I insist,” Haechan said. “I couldn't have my y/n going without her favourite food, could I?”

Right at that moment, you were convinced that you loved him- platonically, romantically, anything.

renjun

What's your favourite colour?” Renjun's eyes were closed, his arms under his head as a makeshift pillow. The question was rather random, but not unusual; it was one of his many idiosyncrasies. You turned your gaze from the branches of the trees above to his resting figure. “Brown.” Renjun opened his eyes to glare at you.

“Brown? What's so interesting about brown?”

“They're the colour of your eyes, of course,” you smiled in reply. “They're beautiful. When the sun hits them at the right angle, they're mesmerising.” Renjun sat up then, his face reddening as he picked leaves off of his jersey. “You—you really see it that way?” he muttered. “Of course I do,” you replied. You wished you were as confident as you sounded; his shyness to your reply was knocking the air out of your chest, your heartbeat replaced with fluttering butterflies. With a shrug, you added, “I guess that the right people can make anything feel exciting.”

thank you for the comments and reblogs ! (　＾ω＾)

taglist: @cigsaftersuh @jenoleeaesthetic @pl4netx1a @jeonghansshitester @chenlezip @neodreamzenie @markkiatocafe @mejaemin [thank you!!]

[wbbobsesserr]

ᯓ sweet spot — chapter four

pairing: paige bueckers & azzi fudd

notes: i’m so sorry this is taking so long, school has been literally kicking my ass. i hate ap testing, please send prayers.

my masterlist

wc: 3.4k

it was raining the next night— soft and steady, tapping against the windows of azzi’s dorm like a heartbeat.

paige was squished on aubrey’s tiny twin bed, a hoodie half-over her face, scrolling mindlessly while aubrey and nika argued about some stupid tiktok challenge. she was laughing at them— at least, pretending to— until her phone buzzed.

new text. from azzi.

azzi: hey, are u busy? no big deal if u are

paige sat up so fast she almost fell off the bed.

“chill,” aubrey laughed, caught off guard by her sudden movement. “where’s the fire?”

“nowhere,” paige muttered, already typing back.

paige: no what’s up

the reply came a second later.

azzi: i just don’t really wanna be alone rn azzi: if u wanna come over. if not it’s okay!

paige’s heart hitched. she could almost see azzi typing it, all shy thumbs and worried expressions.

without even thinking, she sent:

paige: omw

“where you going?” nika called as paige slipped on a pair of nike slides.

“important business,” paige answered, and bolted.

paige barely remembered getting there.

one second she was running through the hallways, hoodie clutched over her head, slides squeaking against the floor, and the next she was standing outside azzi’s door, heart punching at her ribs.

she knocked, fidgeting with her sleeves, trying to look chill and casual and not like she was about to throw up.

azzi opened the door and smiled— soft and sleepy, wearing a giant t-shirt and fuzzy socks— and paige immediately forgot how words worked.

“hi,” azzi said, stepping aside to let her in.

“hey,” paige croaked, her voice two octaves too high.

the dorm was cozy and warm and smelled like coconut lotion and takeout. azzi had a candle burning on her desk— something vanilla— and paige almost died right there.

she stood awkwardly by the door, hands jammed into her hoodie pocket, trying not to stare stare stare.

azzi gave her a look, amused. “you don't have to hover. come sit.”

“oh, right. sorry,” paige stumbled over to the bean bag, flopping down too hard, almost tipping it over.

azzi giggled, the sound light and soft, and paige was pretty sure she blacked out for a second.

“i heated up some thai food,” azzi said, crossing the room with a container and two forks. “hope you’re hungry.”

paige’s brain short-circuited when azzi sat down next to her.


right next to her.


close enough that paige could feel the warmth radiating off her skin.

“thanks,” paige mumbled, taking a fork and immediately dropping it. it clattered to the floor.

the blonde took a deep breath, trying her best to not want to die.

“oops,” azzi said, laughing gently. she bent to grab it at the same time paige did, their heads almost bumping.

“sorry,” paige managed to say, cheeks flaming.

“you’re fine,” azzi said, nudging her playfully. she adjusted her head to look directly at her, “are you blushing?”

paige made a dying noise in the back of her throat. “what— no! no, i— why would— i’m not.”

“your cheeks are red.”

paige’s hands flew to cover her face instinctively, palms warm against warmer skin. “it’s just hot,” she stammered, then immediately started fanning the front of her shirt, pulling it away and towards her chest in little tugs. “your dorm is— it’s warm in here. really warm. like… oven levels. i think the heat’s on. is the heat on?”

azzi blinked at her, clearly holding back a grin. “the heat isn’t on, paige.”

“oh,” paige said, voice small, like the single syllable had betrayed her. “then maybe it’s— i don’t know. internal heat.”

azzi leaned back slightly, just enough to get a better look at her, eyes glinting. “righhttt.”

paige looked up at the ceiling, hoping and praying god would finally put her out of her mercy. once and for all.

after that catastrophic failure at pretending to appear calm, they ate— kind of. mostly they picked at the noodles, stealing glances at each other and pretending not to.

“so,” azzi said after a while, poking her fork into the container. “thanks for coming over.”

“of course,” paige said too fast. “like, anytime. literally. whenever.”

azzi hugged her knees to her chest, turning to look at her fully. she went silent for a moment before whispering: “noah texted me today. said he booked a flight.”

paige’s heart stopped beating altogether.

she tried to say something smooth— something cool— but all that came out was a choked little, “oh.”

“i told him not. didn’t want him spending the money.”

paige looked away for a split second, “but he didn’t listen?”

azzi bit the inside of her cheek, glancing down. she shook her head, just once.

paige lowered her gaze, throat tight. he never listens to you. but i would. i always would.

paige scrambled for something to say— anything— but her brain was mush. every part of her wanted to fix it, to fix everything, but all she managed was a weak, “maybe he just wanted to see you.”

azzi gave a small, tired smile. “yeah. maybe.”

for a few beats, the only sound was the rain and the soft clinking of plastic forks.

“you’re really easy to be around, you know that?” azzi randomly stated, her voice light. “like... you don’t make it complicated.”

paige swallowed hard. “i try not to be complicated.”

“you’re not,” azzi said simply. “you’re just... you.”

paige blinked at her, completely knocked sideways. her mouth opened, but nothing came out.

azzi smiled at her, so soft, so real it almost hurt.

a second later, azzi scooted closer and rested her head gently against paige’s shoulder, just a soft, trusting weight.

paige didn’t move. didn’t even breathe.
she just sat there, heart slamming against her ribs, praying that whatever this was— whatever they were— would never end.

because azzi wasn’t just under her skin anymore.


she was inside her.

it was a saturday.

game day.

paige had been locked in all morning—music loud in her headphones, tied-up shoes, tunnel vision. she was laser-focused, until she walked out of the locker room and saw him.

noah.

tall. broad. pretty smile. usc hoodie. arm around azzi’s shoulders like he belonged there.

and azzi?

she looked up at him with that soft, open expression paige had only seen in rare moments. she was laughing, leaning into him, hands tucked into her sleeves like she was nervous. like she was seventeen again and in love with the boy she thought she’d marry.

paige froze mid-step.

nika, walking beside her, paused too. “is that…?”

“yeah,” paige muttered.

“you okay?”

paige nodded, but it was the worst lie she’d told all week.

azzi saw her then. her face lit up— like it actually lit up— and she waved, eyes warm.

paige waved back, small and tight.

and noah?

he leaned down and kissed azzi’s cheek. right there. in the middle of the arena tunnel. like he had the right.

something in paige’s chest went quiet.

not broken. not torn. just… quiet.

she didn’t say anything until they were halfway through warmups. she didn’t have to. nika came up beside her while they were stretching and whispered, “you don’t have to pretend, y’know.”

paige blinked. “pretend what?”

nika gave her a look. “that seeing noah and azzi together didn’t hurt.”

paige swallowed. “i’m fine.”

“you were literally vibrating yesterday when azzi texted you ‘wanna come over.’ giddy as hell. you are not fine.”

paige didn’t respond. couldn’t.

instead, she stared across the court.

azzi was tying her shoes, noah crouched beside her, saying something in her ear. she laughed again. not fake. not forced.

and paige hated how jealous she felt. how helpless. how small.

because she couldn’t say anything.

she couldn’t tell azzi she was falling so fast she couldn’t sleep. couldn’t tell her she had memorized the shape of her dimple when she smiled and the way her voice softened when she was tired.

she couldn’t say: i love you. and i wish it was me you looked at like that.

but what really hurt— what really dug in—was knowing that for one quiet moment last night, it had been her. azzi’s head on her shoulder. her words soft. her hand brushing paige’s.

and now it was like none of that had ever happened.

paige made every three she took in warmups.

but none of it felt good.

not tonight.

the game was a blur.

uconn won, but paige barely noticed.

she had 27 points, 6 assists, 4 steals. and still, all she remembered was the image of noah’s hand on azzi’s waist.

in the locker room afterward, people were celebrating, music loud, towels snapping, energy buzzing— and paige was quiet.

too quiet.

almost on autopilot, paige packed up, pulling on her hoodie, when azzi jogged over, all bright-eyed and sweet.

“hey! before you head out— wait a sec.”

paige paused, tired but loyal. “yeah?”

azzi beamed. “someone wants to meet you.”

and then he walked up.

noah.

big smile. fresh fade. still wearing his usc sweatshirt with the sleeves pushed up. paige saw the way azzi leaned toward him and felt a thud in her chest. not pain. not quite. just that sick feeling like something was slowly twisting inside her.

“paige, this is noah. noah, this is paige— my teammate and close friend,” she added, grinning.

paige blinked. close friend? that would've felt nice if her whole stomach didn’t drop when azzi said it while holding her boyfriend’s hand.

noah reached out. “i’ve heard a lot about you.”

“yeah?” paige forced a smile so plastic it could’ve cracked. “hope she didn’t lie too much.”

“she didn’t have to. i saw the highlights.”

azzi bumped his arm. “he was impressed.”

“oh wow.” paige’s fake grin widened. “the boyfriend’s impressed. must be my lucky day.”

there was an awkward beat of silence. noah didn’t catch it. azzi kind of did.

“you okay?” azzi asked after a second, soft.

“totally,” paige chirped.

she said it like she’d rather eat glass.

“cool, well, i’ll see you later,” paige added quickly, turning and walking out before she could throw up or cry or do something embarrassing like confess her undying love in a hallway.

later that night, the team went out. nothing wild, just an off-campus bar with loud music, red solo cups, and too many people in a too small area.

paige was already four shots deep when nika found her on the couch, hoodie off, bra strap showing, legs folded like a pretzel.

“jesus,” nika muttered. “you okay?”

“living,” paige replied, voice hoarse. she took another swig of whatever was in her cup.

azzi walked in fifteen minutes later, noah trailing behind. paige clocked it. of course she did. and then immediately poured herself another shot.

it wasn’t even about impressing anyone. she just needed to forget.

nika tried to cut her off. “paige, maybe slow down a bit—”

“i’m fine, nika,” paige said, way too loud. she was smiling, but it didn’t reach her eyes.

and then azzi was beside her.

“hey, hey, you doing alright?” azzi crouched down, concern all over her face. she touched paige’s arm, warm and gentle.

paige looked at her, eyes watery. “m’good. just celebrating.”

azzi laughed, nervous. “celebrating what?”

“you,” paige said, way too fast.

azzi blinked. “what?”

“uconn. teammates. close friends.” paige’s voice dipped on that last part. “you’re like… so cool.”

azzi tilted her head. “are you drunk?”

“drunk on life,” paige slurred, dramatically slumping against the couch.

nika shook her head. “she’s gone.”

paige blinked up at azzi, eyes glassy. “you’re so pretty. like it’s actually unfair. did you know that?”

azzi flushed. “paige…”

“i’m not hitting on you,” paige whispered. “no— you’re taken.”

azzi didn’t respond.

“you make it hard to breathe sometimes,” paige added, voice suddenly quiet.

azzi’s brows pulled together. “what?”

paige shook her head fast, like she was trying to erase the words. “nothing. i’m drunk and rambling. ignore me.”

but azzi wasn’t ignoring her. she was staring. right into her.

and paige hated how much she loved it.

nika appeared by her side, trying to save paige from herself and drag her away from azzi. but paige gently pushed her away, insisting on staying put.

because paige was already unraveling.

azzi didn’t leave. she sat down next to her instead, folding her legs neatly, like she didn’t even notice how paige was slowly coming apart at the seams.

“you’re so good,” paige mumbled suddenly, voice cracking halfway through. she leaned her head against the back of the couch, eyes fluttering closed. “like, not just basketball. you’re good... like in here.” she pressed a clumsy hand against her own chest, right over her heart.

azzi blinked, caught somewhere between amusement and heartbreak. “paige…”

“i mean it.” paige forced her eyes open, blinking hard. “you’re... you’re like the best thing that’s happened to uconn since— since ever. since... the dinosaurs.”

azzi let out a tiny laugh despite herself. “the dinosaurs?”

paige nodded solemnly. “prehistoric times.”

azzi shifted closer, just enough that their knees brushed. paige looked down at the contact like it was holy.

“i’m glad you came here,” paige slurred, her voice dropping to something softer, almost reverent. “i don’t know how we got so lucky. how i got so lucky.”

azzi’s cheeks pinked. “paige—“

but she wasn’t finished. far from it.

“you make everything better,” paige barreled on, like if she didn’t get it out now, it’d eat her alive. “practices. games. just... walking into a room. it’s like...” she struggled, words slippery on her tongue. “it’s like the whole place shifts— brighter, easier, just— better.”

azzi looked at her, this soft, stunned kind of way, and paige felt herself getting hot even though the room was freezing.

“and you’re so nice,” paige continued, hiccuping slightly. “like stupid nice. like, makes-me-wanna-cry kinda nice.”

azzi bit her lip, her smile trembling at the edges.

“and you’re pretty. like, duh, everyone knows that. but it's not even just that,” paige rambled. “you’re pretty in your soul. like your soul is wearing a dress.”

azzi let out a soft, helpless laugh.

paige smiled dreamily. “if there was a beauty contest... you’d win. every time. landslide victory. no recounts.”

azzi opened her mouth to respond, but paige wasn’t quite done.

“and you smell good,” paige said, dead serious. “like heaven. if heaven had a scent, it’d smell like you.”

azzi was turning pink from her ears down.

“and your laugh,” paige continued, stubbornly, like she had a checklist to complete. “your laugh could end wars. i swear. they should record it and play it at the UN or something.”

nika reappeared at that moment, looming behind paige, clearly having heard at least part of that disastrous speech.

“we gotta go,” nika told her, grabbing paige under the arms like she was a misbehaving toddler.

paige clutched the couch dramatically. “nooo. i’m talking to azzi.”

“you’re drunk-talking to azzi,” nika corrected.

azzi just smiled, soft and bewildered, and stood up with them. “it’s okay. she’s not bothering me.”

paige looked up at her, eyes glassy. “you’re an angel. did you know that? you fell straight from the clouds, huh?”

azzi's heart squeezed painfully in her chest.

“c’mon,” nika said gently. “let’s get you home.”

as they started toward the door, paige swayed dangerously, and azzi caught her with both hands, steadying her. for a second, they were close— closer than they’d ever been— and paige’s breath hitched.

“you’re so good,” paige whispered again, voice cracking, eyes swimming with more than just alcohol. “i’d protect you forever, if you asked.”

azzi blinked at her, frozen.

but paige just grinned— this goofy, soft, drunken grin— and leaned heavily against nika, letting herself be dragged away into the night.

azzi stood there for a long time after they disappeared, hand still tingling where she’d touched paige. feeling like something massive and irreversible had just shifted between them, even if she didn’t have the words for it yet.

mornings after used to be easy.

paige had a system: advil, iced coffee, sunglasses, pretend nothing happened.

worked every time.

except this time.

because when she opened her eyes, her phone had three missed calls from nika, a blurry selfie with a bottle of tito’s, and one unread text from azzi that said:

azzi: hey, just making sure ur okay. i was kinda worried last night. lmk if u need anything

paige groaned into her pillow like she was dying.


her head throbbed. her stomach felt like a dumpster fire.


but worst of all—


she remembered.


god, she remembered.

she remembered azzi’s hand on her arm. her big brown eyes. the way she smelled like coconut shampoo and concern.

you make it hard to breathe sometimes.

she wanted to die. just collapse and rot in peace.

at breakfast, paige wore her hoodie with the strings pulled tight around her face like she was in mourning. because honestly? she was. mourning her dignity. her pride. her entire chance with azzi fudd.

azzi slid into the seat across from her, looking stupidly perfect with a smoothie in hand and a soft little smile.

“hi.”

paige mumbled something that could’ve been “hey” or “end my suffering.”

azzi pushed the smoothie toward her. “strawberry banana. figured it might help.”

“you’re too nice,” paige muttered.

azzi smiled softly. “you were pretty out of it yesterday.”

paige closed her eyes. “please don’t tell me what i said.”

azzi laughed— this light, sparkly sound that made paige want to slam her forehead into the table. “i won’t. you already looked like you died once.”

there was a pause. not tense. just… quiet.

azzi tapped her nails against the table. “you really don’t remember anything?”

paige looked up at her, eyes bloodshot. “nope. not a thing. total blackout. who are you again?”

azzi raised a brow. “paige.”

“i’m serious.”

“no you’re not.”

paige sighed, defeated. “okay, fine. i remember some things.”

azzi leaned in, interested. “like?”

“i remember nika trying to drag me away. and me throwing up all over my bathroom.”

azzi snorted. “anything else?”

“nope.” paige sipped the smoothie dramatically. “blacked out immediately after that.”

azzi gave her a look.

azzi didn’t push. but her face said she didn’t believe her.

which was fair. because ten minutes later, noah showed up at the table. he plopped down next to azzi, still riding the high of whatever fratty, sweaty party energy he carried with him like a curse.

“good morning, babe,” he whispered to azzi, kissing her cheek. “morning,” he said to paige, clapping her on the shoulder a little too hard.

paige grunted. didn't look at him. “morning.”

“you were hilarious last night,” he said, grinning.

azzi laughed softly. “she was something.”

“she kept calling you pretty,” noah chuckled, nudging azzi.

paige coughed on her smoothie. “oh my god,” she muttered.

azzi’s face flushed pink. “she was drunk.”

“yeah, but like… extra sweet drunk. real touchy, too.”

paige stared at the table so hard she thought she might burn a hole through it.

“guess that’s the bestie bond, huh?” noah joked, shoving azzi’s shoulder again.

azzi smiled— barely.


he didn’t notice. paige did.

she saw the tiny shift in azzi’s mouth. the way her eyes flicked to paige, unsure. like she was thinking something she shouldn’t say out loud.

paige’s chest ached.

when noah left to grab food, it was like a fog lifted. azzi stayed quiet for a second, just watching her.

“you okay?” she asked softly.

paige nodded, barely. “yeah— yeah, fine.” voice too high. hands too still.

azzi smiled a little. sad and sweet at the same time. “you don’t have to be weird around me, you know.”

“i’m not being weird,” paige said immediately.

azzi tilted her head, “kind of.”

paige bit her tongue. hard.


because if she opened her mouth again, it would all come spilling out.


i’m obsessed with you. i think about you every second. i hate him. i love you.

so instead, she grabbed her smoothie and slurped aggressively to fill the silence.

azzi giggled under her breath. then she said, almost shy, “hey, um… if you’re feeling better later, you wanna maybe hang out? just us?” then quickly added, “noah’s going out.”

paige almost choked again.


she nodded frantically. “yeah— yes. totally.”


too fast. too eager. dammit.

azzi grinned. “cool.”

and for the first time all morning, paige forgot about the headache, the nausea, the regret. all she could think about was her.


and the way her heart felt like it might actually, literally, physically explode out of her chest.

© wbbobsesser

[steddieas-shegoes]

delay on the runway

for @steddiemicrofic prompt ‘delay’

rated t | 408 words | no cw | tags: modern au, rockstar Eddie, lawyer Steve, strangers to lovers (implied), open ending but assume they’re gonna be deeply in love by the end of the flight, first meetings

🛩️🛩️🛩️🛩️🛩️🛩️🛩️🛩️🛩️🛩️

“We’re sorry for the delay. They’re quite backed up on the runway, but we should be on our way in the next ten minutes.”

The pilot’s voice is loud over the speaker, but Steve’s grateful to hear it. They’ve been sitting on the tarmac for almost 30 minutes after a two hour delay before boarding. He’s already missed his connection and he just hopes that whatever hotel he spends the night in has hot water and decent snacks.

“Nervous about the flight?” The guy next to him asks.

He’s definitely not who Steve usually ends up next to in first class, that’s for sure. Long hair, torn jeans and hoodie, dark circles under his eyes, tattoo just visible on his neck. Steve’s buttoned shirt and slacks look comical next to him.

“Not really,” he answers. “Frequent flyer. Just missed my connection. Won’t be home until tomorrow afternoon now.”

The man nods, gives him a very charming smile, and puts his headphones in.

Just when Steve thinks they’ll go back to ignoring each other, the guy speaks again.

“Normally, I take the band plane. My uncle needed an emergency surgery and he’s a stubborn old man and refused a temporary aid so I had to fly home and make sure he didn’t try to lift his body weight or anything. And then the weather made it so only commercial flights could come and go and I have to be New York by seven in the morning. Which is hopefully happening now, but who knows.”

Steve blinks at the guy.

“Eddie. Sorry, should’ve started there.”

Steve laughs. “Steve. Is your uncle doing okay?”

Eddie’s mouth opens, he removes his headphones, and laughs. “Sorry. You’re asking about my uncle?”

“Yeah…you said he needed emergency surgery,” Steve explains, biting his lip. His hearing’s not great over the plane engines, but it can’t be that bad. “Right?”

“I did. It’s just, I figured the band plane part would grab your attention more.”

“I’ll get to it,” Steve winks. “But your uncle. He’s okay?”

Eddie nods. “He’s better than expected. Thanks.”

“For?”

“Asking. What’s got you in first class, Steve?” Eddie removes his headphones as he turns his body towards him, grinning ear to ear.

“I was supposed to be traveling with a client,” Steve gestures to Eddie’s seat. “He has to travel tomorrow instead. Now I have you.”

“Lucky me.”

Eddie’s eyes bore into Steve’s as he smirks.

“I’m feeling pretty lucky myself.”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

butterflygirl738 (1)

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, power imbalance, sickness, medical bills, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You love butterflies and your mother, but life isn't that simple. As life gets complicated, and expensive, you find yourself in need and an unexpected miracle presents itself.

Characters: Steve Rogers (CEO/Sugar Daddy)

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

You rush off the bus, stumbling as your toe hits the curb. You stagger and right yourself, rushing by the other passengers as they shuffle along the pavement. You cut across the grass into the parking lot and hurry towards the front doors of the box store. You're just on time to punch in. 

You sweep in through the front door and wave at Claudia as she stands at the front door welcoming in customers. You flit around the displays of seasonal candy and dip in between customers and aisles until you get to the back of the store. Before you can key in the code, the lounge door opens. You back up as Drew, the store manager, steps out. 

He stops and checks his watch. He curls his lip. You're not late. Not yet. Not unless he doesn't let you through. 

"On the floor in the next minute," he demands. 

"Yes, sir," you agree. 

He steps out and lets the door fall behind him. You barely catch it as you spin through and keep the door open with your foot. You punch in your employee code. The screen blinks green. It's right on the hour. 

You toss your bag on the shelf above and hang your jacket from one of the many bent hangers. Lilian pull the door back from against your toe and huffs as she steps out. You follow her. She's worked there about two decades too long. 

You go out to your zone; with the vases, candlesticks, and lamps.  

You wander around, waiting on any customer to come by and distract you from the slow grind of time. You rove around for the fifth time and relent to your mindless urges. You take out your phone and check your notifications. A couple of hearts and shares. You smile. You don't have too much time for more than work and everything else piling up around you. Your little corner of social media is your one escape. 

A shadow steps into the same aisle as you. You hide your phone, slipping it into your back pocket, and smile at Drew doing his rounds. He marches toward you. You turn to tidy the shelf. 

"Name tag." 

You look down. "I got it..." your voice fizzles as you see the logo. It's the wrong one. "I'm so sorry--" 

"You're more than entitled to have another job but once it starts interfering with his one..." 

"It's not, sir, I'm sorry." You reach into your pocket and find your other name tag. You switch them out. "It was a long night." 

He doesn't smile. He doesn't care and you know it. You don't make excuses a lot but some things you just can't control, no matter how much you wish you could. 

"This is work." He sniffs and saunters away. 

You stare after him. Yeah, it sure is. You prefer your other job. It's always quiet in the small boutique. That's probably not a great omen for your employment but the vintage re-seller is much calmer than the corporate discount depot. Some days, you can't handle all the people. 

When you're sure the coast is clear, you take out your cell again. You hide in the corner with the decorative bowls. You rewatch your reel of the chrysalis moving ever so slightly. You're really excited for that one. You hope you didn't leave your window closed. The air gets too hot in your room. 

You flip over to your messages. You key in a quick 'how's it going?' and hit send as you hear voices. You tuck away your phone and push your shoulders back. You strut up the aisle and greet the pair of older ladies with a smile. 

"Hi, how are you today? Can I help you find something?" You ask. 

"I think we can find the discount shelf, thank you," the red-haired woman retorts flippantly and rolls her eyes at her companion. "As I was saying, Gia is coming back next month..." 

"Let me know if you need anything," you call after them softly and retreat to the next aisle. 

You give it a couple minutes before you go back to scrolling. The women chatter about their children and their husbands. They have so much going on. Happy things they couldn't be more miserable about. 

A message blips up, a small envelope in the margin. You pull down the menu and click on it. It's your mom. 

'Just woke up. Can't find my water bottle.' 

You type; 'I left a note by your bed. It's in the fridge with your dinner. Sorry if I worried you. Love you.' 

She replies with only a heart. If she just woke up, it's likely all she can manage. You return a heart of your own and put your phone away. It's no longer a doorway to distraction; it's a reminder. 

You stop just at the edge of the clothing section. If Drew catches you, he'll write you up again. You look at the pink paisley scarves hanging beside the tan purses on sale. That would look nice on mom. She needs a new one. Her cap is getting ratty. 

Well, only seven and a half more hours, a bus ride home, and you can check on her. 

🦋

The apartment is quiet as you enter. It usually is regardless of the time of day. It wasn’t always like that, but you understand why it is now. 

You sanitize your hands and turn on the living room light. Your mom is on the couch, hugging a pillow, eyes closed. She looks peaceful. Despite that, you can’t let her stay there. 

You drop your bag on the chair and near her. You gently touch her shoulder. “Mom, hey, you gotta go to bed.” 

She grumbles, “I’m fine...” 

“Mom,” you squeeze her, feeling the bone through her skin. She feels fragile. 

She hums and bats your hand away lazily. She yawns and sits up. As she does, she blinks and touches her bald head. Her eyes round and she feels around the cushions. She pulls on the floral skullcap. 

“How was work?” She asks as he keeps the pillow in her lap. The shirt that once fit her snugly, hangs over her chest loosely. 

“It was work, that’s for sure,” you say chipperly. “But I got through it.” 

“Did you eat?” She asks. 

“Did you?” You counter. 

“Some,” she shrugs. 

You nod. She’s always nauseous. The doctor said she would be. 

“Finish it,” she says. “Please, I don’t want it to go to waste.” 

“Sure,” you agree and turn to the chair. You flip open your bag and dig inside. You pull out the pink scarf, the fabric cool and sleek. “Here. It’s getting hotter out.” 

You hand her the scarf. She admires the fabric between her fingers. “It’s pretty.” 

“It’ll look great on you,” you assure her. 

“You’re too sweet, pie.” 

You smile at the nickname. She always calls you that. Ever since you stole that slice of pie in grade one after bed time. You’ll never forget your first crime. 

“I need to eat and sleep. Somewhere in there, I need to shower. Tomorrow morning, right?” 

“I can go alone.” She says. 

“No, you won’t,” you insist as you go to the kitchen. 

You go to the fridge and take out the container of grilled chicken, rice, and green beans. She had a little rice and veg but none of the chicken. You put it in the microwave. 

You go to the doorway and peer into the living room. She wraps the scarf around her naked head and ties it. She peeks over her shoulder. 

“Well? Is it a good colour for me?” 

“You always look good in pink,” you assure her. “You need anything?” 

“Yes, I need my daughter to take care of herself.” She grunts as she pushes herself up. She throws the pillow on the couch and stiffly waddles around. “I’m going to bed, okay?” 

“I’m not coddling you,” you cross your arms. “I just don’t want to hear you whining when you’re all out of joint tomorrow.” 

She sticks her tongue out at you and kisses her palm, opening it to you as she shuffles by. 

“Get some sleep. I mean it.” 

“Take your own advice,” you throw back and grin crookedly. 

She waves you off and heads for her bedroom. You watch until her door snaps shut. You look down at the floor. The silence slowly rises around you, like water it getting deeper and deeper, until you could drown in it. 

You jerk out of your trance as the microwave beeps. You spin and hurry across the small kitchen. You take a fork from the drawer and grab the container as it steams. You drop it on the counter to cool. 

You hurry into the living room and grab your phone from your bag. You return to the kitchen as you twirl the fork in your hand. That notification remains; the one that blipped in an hour from close. A familiar subject line: OVERDUE. 

In the morning. You continue to ignore it as you open up your Insta. You put the phone on your counter, leaning on the edge, and eat bite by bite as your scroll. Someone liked a few older posts from last year. That beautiful monarch you hatched and the green caterpillar on the log in the park. 

You have a red admiral. Or so you hope. It’s a particular sort of patience you need to have for the hobby. If you can call it that. 

Waiting and waiting to watch the chrysalis crack and bloom with large wings. A butterfly born and released off to flutter. It’s so beautiful but sombre at the same time. The small changes, the subtle twitch of the cocoon, it reminds you of the passing of time. Of the inevitable. 

You rinse out the container and wash the fork. You set it all away and shut off the kitchen and front room lights. You scoop up your bag in the shadows and slink to your bedroom. 

The light in there is duller. Softened to keep from affecting metamorphosis. You stretch out your neck as you drop your bag and phone. You go to the mesh hamper in the corner, covered with a dish towel on top. Through the holes you can see the sticks you set up on and angle and the cocoons hanging within. 

The curtains stir and draw you back. It’s getting cooler. You close the window and bounce onto your bed. Half of it is covered in your clutter. The crinkle of paper has you straining to fish out the envelopes. Bill, bill, bill. You’re trying. So hard. 

You toss them to the corner of the bed and fall onto your back. What if it’s not enough. You don’t think it is. The invoices outpace your checks. Your hours at work can’t measure up to those at the clinic. The chemo is draining your bank account as quickly as your mother’s body. 

You put your hands over your forehead and sigh. Your eyes sting and a wobble of tears brim along the edges. You inhale deeply and wipe away the moisture. 

No. You're not giving up. It’s too early to grieve. You won’t be doing that any time soon. You promised your mom that. 

You sit up and grab your phone. You swipe around and open the app. You have a camera inside the hamper, recording in the chrysalises. It’s tedious and dull. One of your followers suggested a stream but you worried about the cameras picking up conversations or even just running up the internet bill. Besides, what’s there to watch? 

You scan through to find the most interesting bits when you can. If there are any. You edit them into shorts and put them up on your page. People love it, much to your surprise. And you like answering questions. Sometimes, they even teach you something. 

Ten new followers that day. It’s nothing compared to the beauty influencers or the fashion bloggers; or those gamers and their cult-like fans. It’s your own little space where nothing else can touch you. Where all you have to worry about is misting the cocoons so they don’t dry out. 

There’s nothing bad there. No managers, no crowded bus rides, no doctor’s appointments, or red numbers. It’s where you can forget. It’s where you can fly. Reborn just like the butterflies. 

[yeonmuse]

meandom!heeseung that degrades reader and makes her ride his thighs (smut prompt no. 1)

This one is long overdue im so sorry but I’ve finally got around to clearing my inbox

✧ tw. smut (18+ mdni!),mean heeseung, slight dom, dirty talk, thigh riding

Heeseung was used to girls yearning for him and falling at his feet, but she had been on an entirely new level. She was like a desperate attention seeking virgin that he couldn’t wait to bend to his will. It all started with innocent glances and the fluttering of her eyelashes when she looked at him. Eventually that led to her leaving drinks and sweet notes at his desk out of hopes that he’d give her the attention she had seeked from him for the longest time now. Eventually he gave in flashing her that charming smile as he approached her at her locker just to thank her for the drinks. That one interaction has lit a fire in her and what was once a subtle crush turned into silent yearning and desperation.

Heeseung had been leaving the gym after practice when he heard a sound so sweet and alluring he wouldn’t dare pass up the opportunity to listen. As he drew closer to the girls locker rooms and heard the sound of your sweet voice his mouth nearly fell open. So that’s where you had disappeared to? Heeseung knew you would often come in to watch his practice, of course you’d always hide behind the facade of coming to watch your best friend yeonjun but he knew very well your eyes would always find him.

The more he listened in on your ragged breath and painfully desperate whines the more he felt his cock twitch against the inside of his basketball shorts. His problem only seemed to worsen as he heard the sound of his name come spilling from his lips and he froze in place. His name had just fallen from your lips so sweet and distressed he couldn’t even stop his feet from moving.

After glancing around the gym to make sure no one else had been there he steps inside dropping his bag at the locker room entrance. He strides through what seemed like an endless stretch of lockers until finally he found you, sat on one of the dressing benches, legs spread and fingers shoved into your jeans as if you’d been too scared to fully push them down.

Heeseung let out a playful whistle, putting a quick end to the girl's showcase and making her scramble to her feet, her cheeks burning with nothing but shame and embarrassment as she struggled to find any logical explanation.

“H- heeseung.’’

“You put on quite a show, i mean i knew you were a little desperate but this?’’

“I’m sorry..’’ heeseungs smirk only widened at the way you looked away from him, a shameful expression shading over your face.

“Sorry? Oh princess, you aren’t sorry. I bet this isn’t even the first time is it? First time you’ve buried your fingers into yourself like a desperate slut while moaning my name.” he watched as your lips pressed into a thin line and you remained silent and the smirk was immediately wiped from his face.

“Answer me yn.’’ annoyance was evident in his voice, yet still you remained silent and frozen in place as if the embarrassment of being caught had shut you down entirely. In a flash Heeseung had stood before you, hand holding a fist full of your hair forcing you to stare up and return his gaze.

“I said answer me princess.’’

“No..’’ the shake in your voice told Heeseung exuding you needed to know

“No what. Speak up.’’

“It’s not my first time.’’ you finally choke out embarrassingly, your cheeks heating up the longer he stood there looking at you, his gaze like some sort of burning light.

“I knew it, you’re so pathetic, all worked up over someone that rarely ever even speaks to you.’’ he chuckles before finally letting go of your hair with a rough jerk stepping back from you and taking a seat on the bench.

You weren't sure how to take his words, but he was right. Here he was degrading you, making you feel less than you were and you were everything but upset about it, in fact it turned you in even more.

“Go on then pretty, you want relief so bad. Sit.” He spits out, making your eyes widen and sending you into an eternal panic.

“W-what?”

“Sit. I won’t ask again.” He repeats, his gaze ushering her to have a seat on his thigh.

“B-but someone could”

“Walk in? You weren't thinking of that when you had your fingers shoved into your pretty pussy screaming my name now did you?” He watched as you silently shook your head, unable to spit out any sort of defenses or retorts because he had been entirely right.

“We don’t have all day. This is what you were so desperate for right? For me to hear you? For me to come in here and make you feel good? I bet you wanted me to hear you hm?” Your cheeks flushed and your legs feel like jelly beneath you, his taunts lulling you into a new state of desperation you never knew had been possible until now. “Come on pretty girl.”

That was all it took to get you sitting on his lap, legs straddling his thigh as he held your head in place forcing you to stare into his eyes as he flexed his thigh.

“Fuck soaking my thigh already, who knew you were this desperate?” He chuckles at your audible reaction. The drag of your clit against his muscular thigh makes you whimper. He can’t help but find amusement at the way you’re pressing yourself harder against his thigh.

“Such a pretty thing, drooling over my thighs already. You wanted to ride them that badly?” His hands ghost over your hips as your hips move at a desperately speedful pace. He watched as your vulnerability unfolds in his lap.

“That’s it princess, doesn’t it feel good?” He questions, his hands rubbing at your thighs and your waist as he egged you on. You can’t seem to find the words to respond, overwhelmed by pleasure. You nod dumbly, moaning out his name as he tenses his thigh.

“Want you to cum, can you do that? Cum on my thigh, want you to walk around like this all day knowing what you did to get that way. You wanted it so bad. Stay like this until the day ends.” He groans, your arousal audible now with each drag. Your legs begin to shake with exertion, heeseung taking the opportunity to continuously grind you into his thigh, muscles tensing sporadically.

Your orgasm takes you by surprise despite the build up, head thrown back with a moan and eyes rolled back. “Oh god, Heeseung, please.” You moan out, not sure if you’re begging him to stop or keep going.

“There we go, good girl.” He groans, his thigh absolutely covered in you. He holds you still, allowing you to catch your breath.

“Now clean up before someone sees sweetheart, wouldn’t want them knowing that their little sweetheart is just a desperate little slut”

I rarely write smut and haven’t done it in so long guys go easy on me please 😭 im better at aus

[mattslutt]

I Didn’t Mean That - m.sturniolo

Dilf!Matt x Reader — One Shot

Angst with comfort, fluff ending, age gap, pet names.

summary: older boyfriend matt comes back from work exhausted and lets his anger out on you.

note : don’t like it, don’t read it:)

word count: 785.

————————————————————————

The front door slammed harder than usual.

You flinched from the couch, where you’d been curled up waiting for him. “Matt?” you called softly.

He didn’t answer right away. You heard his heavy footsteps, the thud of keys tossed on the table, and then the sound of him sighing—long and ragged, like the day had bled him dry.

You stood up and padded over to him in your oversized sleep shirt, bare feet silent on the hardwood. “Hey, you okay?” you asked gently, reaching out to touch his arm.

“Can I just have a minute?” he snapped.

Your hand froze. “I—sorry, I just wanted—”

“Jesus, baby, I don’t need coddling right now. Can you not hover for five seconds?”

The words were like ice water down your back. You blinked at him, swallowing hard. “I was just worried about you,” you whispered.

“I’m fine,” he muttered, scrubbing a hand over his tired face and walking past you. “I don’t need you fussing like I’m some fucking child.”

You nodded quickly, eyes stinging. “Okay,” you murmured, already backing away. “I’ll… I’ll just be in the room.”

You didn’t wait to see if he responded. You tapped upstairs and closed the bedroom door behind you, your chest already tightening. Your throat burned as you sat on the edge of the bed, your lip trembling before the first quiet sob broke loose. You didn’t want to cry—he was just tired, you knew that—but it still hurt. You’d only wanted to help. You loved him.

Matt sat on the couch downstairs in the quiet, staring blankly at the wall.

The sound of the door closing and your broken voice echoed downstairs to his ears like a curse.

Fuck.

He ran both hands through his hair and stood abruptly. “Goddammit,” he whispered. He’d come home like a storm and destroyed the one soft thing in his life.

A few minutes later, you heard a soft knock. You wiped your cheeks fast and turned away from the door. “Yeah?” you said, trying to sound okay.

It opened slowly.

Matt stepped in, eyes immediately falling on your hunched shoulders and your blotchy cheeks. His face crumpled with guilt.

“Oh, angel…”

You didn’t answer.

He sank to his knees in front of you, resting his hands gently on your thighs. “Sweetheart, look at me.”

You couldn’t—not at first. He’d never spoken to you like that before, not once. And he looked so tired. Older than usual. But your heart still hurt.

“I’m so sorry,” he murmured, pressing his forehead to your knee. “I took my day out on you and you didn’t deserve that. You were just trying to take care of me. I was an asshole.”

You bit your lip, your fingers trembling in your lap. “You said you didn’t need me,” you whispered.

Matt looked up quickly, pain in his eyes. “No, baby, no. Don’t say that. I need you more than anything. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I was just… angry at everything else and I let it spill on you. I swear to God, beautiful, I didn’t mean a word of it.”

He stood up slowly and sat beside you on the bed, wrapping an arm around your waist, the other hand gently brushing the tears from your cheek.

“You’re my peace, baby. You come to me soft and sweet after this fucked-up world chews me up, and I just… I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you.”

You finally leaned into him, your voice muffled against his chest. “I was just scared I upset you.”

Matt held you tighter, kissing the top of your head. “Never, sweetheart. You calm me. I’m just stupid sometimes. Too old and too set in my ways, maybe. But I love you. So much it scares me.”

You nodded against him, arms slowly wrapping around his middle. “I love you too.”

“Let me make it up to you,” he said softly. “Let me run you a bath. Rub your back. Kiss every inch of that pretty face until you forget I ever raised my voice.”

You finally smiled, eyes still wet. “Okay.”

“There’s my girl,” he whispered, brushing your hair behind your ear. “My sweet, soft, perfect angel. God, I don’t deserve you.”

He kissed you slow—gentle and deep and full of regret. You melted into him, forgiving him piece by piece with every brush of his lips, every whispered “I love you, baby” against your skin.

He made good on every word.

And by the end of the night, you were asleep in his arms, safe again in the arms of the man who may have been tired and rough around the edges… but loved you with everything he had.

____________________________________________

i MIGHT start writing more dilf matt cuz it’s sexy. anyway. bai :3

[starlixers]

sub sixtey nine! ₊˚⊹ ᰔ ₊˚⊹

erm just had a thought of you and satosugu in this really cute position <333

pwp, afab reader, she/her pronouns used, male x male action, dom!sugu, switch!toru, filthy satosugu, names used (angel, baby, good girl/boy), 0ral (m and f receiving), an*l play, everyone’s feeling good here ^-^ written during my study hall btw LMAO

♫ if you’re not of legal age, stay off my page!

it’s impossible to forget how good your life is when you’re folded between your sato and sugu.

they have you on your back at their mercy, your hips arching up to meet the warm plush of satoru’s tongue. his body is draped opposite of you, his leaky tip perched right against your cheek. he’s hungry but meticulous as he devours you whole. your chubby cunt coats his nose, lips, chin, and the grind of faint titanium white stubble against your mound has you keening beneath him.

“s-so fuckin’ good baby—god.” satoru groans, gently shaking his head while his lips wrap around your swollen little clit. he doesn’t let up even though you’re almost sobbing with pleasure.

your cries are muffled though, coming out through wet gasps and the drool upon your lips as suguru slooowly drags his heavy cock in and out, in and out of your tight throat. your head is leaned back against the edge of the bed, you can only see sugu’s heavy balls and thick meaty thighs as he fucks into your mouth.

he’s groaning softly, calling you his good girl, and satoru his precious boy. it makes your pussy clench, a glob of your creamy slick spilling right into satoru’s awaiting mouth.

“she—mmh—likes that shit, sugu. say it ‘gain.”

they’re teasing, suguru’s hand dragging along the length of your boyfriend’s achy throbbing dick. he makes sure to stroke it right against your face, letting his pre dribble out onto your flushed, tear stricken cheeks.

“yeah baby—like when i say you’re our fuckin'- good girl?” suguru muses, looking down at you for a brief moment as he pulls alllll the way out of your throat letting go you sputter and gasp before pushing right back in.

he hisses, feeling you whine around his cock and feeling satoru twitch in his hand.

“he wants to cum angel—touch him for me, yeah?”

you obey so mindlessly, sugu could make you do anything with that low, gravely voice of his. your hand finds the soft skin of toru’s sac, massaging it for him, feeling him tense as he ruts his hips against your face and sugu’s hand.

he pulls away from your needy pussy with a wet squelch!—moaning out loud as he shamelessly fucks into the tan, soft hand of suguru.

you flinch as you hear two sounds, a smack and a whine. the former is against the pale globe of satoru’s ass, “did I say you could stopping eating that messy cunt?”

“s-sorry baby—f-feels s’good—fuck fuck..”

“make her cum, n’ I’ll make you cum.”

suguru lets out a guttural sound, feeling your whimpers round his cock again as those long strokes against your clit return. it’s like a domino effect; satoru makes you squirm and whine, which makes you cry and suguru’s cock, which makes him tighten his grip on satoru’s aching shaft. all three of you are swimming in pleasure, and its race to see who’ll get there first.

“good boy, baby—wanna cum?”

toru answers only by pushing his hips back and quickly flicking his tongue against you. your legs tremble and kick, your soft tummy tenses up. satoru is dying to feel you explode right into his awaiting mouth, feeling like he’ll die without it.

“cum—cum right fuckin’ now.” suguru commands the both of you and your bodies submit, they always do.

you’re downright wailing around suguru as his load fills your throat and mouth, he’s grunting your names so sweetly while he presses his balls right up against your nose.

you feel your cunt spasm and clench around two slender fingers, lips wrapped round your jumpy little clit as you gush into his mouth, just like he wanted.

satoru pops his lips from your pussy to let out broken moans, cumming right onto your soft cheek as his puckering hole throbs against sugu’s thick thumb.

you feel content as suguru slides out the warm cavern of your mouth, a dopey smile on your face as his load drips down your face. satoru is rolling off of you to lay beside you, nuzzling his face into your plush thighs.

“look at my fucked out angels.” suguru murmurs, fingers swiping away some of the sticky liquid from your face before gently easing them into your mouth. then he’s climbing on top of you, giving satoru a long kiss on the way while he lets him recover.

“‘s my turn with that cute little pussy, baby.” and you’re spreading your thighs for him all over again. <3

[badslittlemuffin]

okay so its a tradition in my family to give the first slice of cake to the person you love the most so imagine reader giving bakugou the first slice and he doesn't get it until like later someone mentions it to him.

you can alter it, but also if you don't want to do this u can ignore it or delete it no pressure <33

THANK U FOR THE REQUEST!!

STOPPP WAIT I LOVE THIS<333 I HOPE I DID YOUR TRADITION JUSTICE!!

post-war!katsuki x reader, childhood friends to lovers, profanity, katsuki sucks at words, katsuki is kinda dense, FLUFFFFFFFF SO FLUFFY YOU MIGHT DIE, angst if you squint, very tiny pjo reference

wc:722

Katsuki was a fucking idiot.

He had known you for what—sixteen years? He had been to every. single. one. of your birthdays. At this point, he definitely knew about your family tradition of giving the first slice of cake to the person you love. So when, for the first time in sixteen years, you didn't give the slice to one of your parents but to him, and he didn't bat an eye? He was positive you hated him.

It had been a few days since your birthday, and Kaminari had casually mentioned how you had given him the first slice when the realization had struck him harder than a brick to the head. He was mortified in himself. You had basically confessed to him, and he said nothing in return? Oh god, why didn't he stay dead when Shigiraki killed him?

He bolted off the couch in the common room, racing down the hall and up the stairs, finally making it to your dorm and knocking a little too aggressively. The door swung open to reveal your confused form. "What the-?" You began, but stopped as he raised his hand, hunched over, panting for breath.

He straightened, his eyes locking onto yours, his brows scrunched together in concentration. "I'm such a fuckin' idiot," he muttered, shoving his way into your room and shutting the door. You raised a brow, confusion evident on your face. "What?" He turned, facing you. "That cake. You gave the first slice to me and I didn't bat a fucking eye." He groaned, running his hands down his face.

Your eyes widened in realization, a small frown pulling at your lips. "Took you long enough," you mumbled, turning your gaze to the ground. He huffed, stepping close, his calloused hand cupping your cheek so gently you were a little startled. "Shit... 'M sorry I'm slow as hell... Please don't hate me, I know I messed up." His voice was gruff, but you could hear the sincerity dripping from each word.

A quiet laugh escaped from your lips, but was quickly swallowed by his own. Your eyes flung wide, then immediately snapped closed, your hands moving to wrap around the back of his neck. His lips moved fervently against yours, every word he didn't know how to say, every feeling he'd been suppressing shoved into the meeting of lips.

The blonde's hands encircled your waist, pressing your body to his. His lungs burned, and he reluctantly pulled back, your lips desperately attempting to chase his. "I hope that gives you an answer..." He whispered, his gaze a gentle caress. You melted in his cherry red eyes, your limbs feeling lighter. A smile wedged its way onto your lips, your fingers running from his neck to his chest. "It does."

He grinned slowly, not his usual cocky smirk, but a genuine smile. He pressed his lips to yours once more, his hands tightening on your waist. Katsuki needed you to know how badly he returned your feelings, how long he had been keeping it to himself for fear of losing you. He sucked at expressing his feelings in words so he hoped you understood what he meant as his lips moved passionately against yours.

You pulled apart, gasping for breath, his gaze heated as he looked at you. "How long...?" He spoke quietly, a hint of desperation in his tone. "Since like... beginning of middle school...?" His eyes flew wide, a small smirk pulling at his lips. You scoffed, pulling away from his grasp. He grinned cockily, his grip tightening, "and ya' didn't tell me?" You rolled your eyes, "I was sure you'd scoff and never speak to me again." His brows furrowed, "bullshit. I might've been a twit back in middle school, but I wouldn't ditch you..."

His smirk melts into something more sincere, meant solely for you. "Well, I'm glad you did now, even if it took me a minute to figure it out." You both laughed, his lips hovering over yours once more. "This means I get to take you out now, right? No more fuckin' 'hangouts', but I get to actually kiss you 'n shit?" You nodded, grinning. "No more dates under the term of 'hangouts'."

His lips met yours again. After that, he overanalyzed your movements, just so he didn't miss something like that again.

you can pry this cliche romance out of my cold dead hands

gahhh i love this fictional man

[backstageinfatuationvn]

I remember seeing a lil animatic(?) on Twitter on how you worked on Kier’s design for 6 years. I can’t find it anymore tho 😭 but what was your thought process when designing him? I luv luv luvvvv his design smmmm 🥹❤️ you n your co-creator are doing an amazing job 🫶

The animatic is still on my personal twitter account! And thank you!! SUPER LENGTHY POST BUT HERE WE GO!

Originally Kier had black hair and a similar haircut to Kethan (old art from 2024)

The first one was actually him dressed as the phantom of the Opera since he is one of the main inspos (old inspo meme I did)

Kier was originally created 6 years ago actually, back then I also made many versions of him. But the most important one was Gacha (yes I was a gacha kid 💔)

I sadly don't have his gacha photos anymore since it was from a very ancient phone but if memory serves me right, he would've looked like this. Yes I installed the app again HAHAHA

He didn't originally have midnight blue eyes. That was added when I started bringing him back to my works before Backstage Infatuation.

Personality wise, he is originally a yandere! Nothing changed from there in terms of that but interestingly enough... Back then in my gacha days, I originally shipped him with another male OC. A BL gacha series was planned where it centered around Kier's obsession with the male OC but was later discontinued for reasons I cannot remember. It was a long, long, looong time ago.

I focused on other stuff so he started catching dust until I picked him up around early 2024. That's when I started planning for his comeback after remembering past memories on a random tuesday night before sleeping LMAO

I drew two pieces before his redesign (the first two images), this was when I was into the yandere vn games.

Just wanna shout out these two games because these inspired me to make my own!! YOU and HIM and TKATB really inspired me to make Backstage Infatuation (there was also Dramatical Murder). I also have a love for Idol culture and Kpop, so I based Backstage Infatuation on my interests.

It is no secret that Backstage Infatuation is a passion project of mine, most of the characters in the game are old ocs being brought back to life and new ocs being finally used. Kier was one of those OCs that were brought back to life and needed a new makeover.

Fast forward to November 2024, I started redoing Kier and originally came up with his overall face and hair.

Interestingly enough, I actually came up with his idol fit first after seeing an outfit on Pinterest!

This is the original concept of his first idol outfit draft, felt it was too plain but really liked the black and white theme.

Second try and I came up with this! Even added silver feathers to symbolize LUXE's angel theme.

I added midnight blue (with stars) accents and it really made them look ethereal and elegant, at least for me. Which fits the group's original concept!

For his casual outfit, I wanted to go with something stylish and cool at the same time. I went with techwear influence and came up with the outfit now used in the game! Originally he didn't have black leather pants, but denim... It didn't look good in my opinion. 😭

Old and New design comparison

I kinda stole Nightwing's color palette for his clothes and changed a few stuff (mostly the blue)— Sorry I just really like Nightwing 😭 HAHAHA.

Few tweaks there and there, I became satisfied with his design!

I also made different outfits for him, a easter egg outfit I plan to add, his summer outfit and spring time outfit. I do love dressing up my son and exploring different fashions for him. ❤️

I do enjoy designing clothes and outfits. (Already reached the 10 image limit so here's a poorly made collage)

Sorry if this took a long time 😭 I had to find my old gallery saves for some of the pictures but this was such a fun ask to answer! It's nice to have a memory refresh ❤️

I hope this answered everything and so SORRY IF IT'S LENGTHY 😭😭 - Ive (Creator)