#the ending is so bad but this was already too long

[lovscb97]

tags: park sunghoon x fem!reader, established relationship, size kink, strength kink, bulge kink, d/s dynamics, dom!sunghoon x sub!reader, unprotected sex (plz don’t), breeding kink, creampie, dirty talk, degradation (slut, whore), praise kink?, nicknames (baby, princess, angel, hoonie, etc), slight fluff, lowkey pwp, reader is described to be shorter than hoon and is easy to pick up/throw around, reader is also very down bad for him (aren’t we all), etc

wc: 2.67k

add. notes: hoon won the poll i put out so i present to u my first ever enha work :3 thank u very much to everyone who voted n this will def not be the last enha fic i put out so do not worry there is much to come for hyung line!!! also icon creds to @/v4mpjay :3

. . . 

sunghoon doesn’t know how much longer he can take this. 

it all started when he began going to the gym regularly, slowly bulking his figure up and feeling himself grow out in his clothes. what used to be his lanky frame that greeted him in the mirror gradually turned into a built man with lean muscles and sharper features, adding to what was already there initially. it wasn’t like this wasn’t what he wanted though, albeit the entire reason why he even started working out in the first place being to improve his health and build better habits for himself, but the outcome wasn’t too bad in itself. he got used to feeling stronger, more lighter on his feet or less out of breath when he climbed the stairs, and it was enjoyable to know that he could lift twice his weight and still feel good as new. in some way, things felt like they were going swell.

that is, until you came into the picture.

now, sunghoon’s always known that you’re small compared to him. even when standing side by side, his height next to yours is a little laughable, though he supposes you’re used to that considering you’ve always been shorter than most of your peers. he’s well aware of how you have to go on your tippy-toes when you guys kiss, and the soft feel of your little hands in his is something that spins in his mind constantly when your fingers lace together. it doesn’t help that you always ask him to fetch your favourite mug from the top cabinet too, his larger physique towering over yours each time he leans over from behind you. he likes to tease you about it, revelling in the way you pout cutely back at him whenever he makes fun of you jokingly despite the small smile playing at your lips, but little do you know about the twisted fantasies breaching his thoughts every moment you spend together. he wonders if you would be disgusted? would you dump him and tell all your friends about what a creepy loser he was? sunghoon can’t help but imagine the worst case scenario, and it would be easy to bury these emotions down the hatchet had it not been for the fact that he’s started to think he is going mad too. 

every time sunghoon comes home from the gym, every time he enters your shared apartment, sweat dripping down his forehead and his water-bottle empty, he swears on his dead grandmother that you start checking him out. it doesn’t help that he's always been attentive either, always needlessly easy at picking up the cues of your discomfort when you're outside in a social space for too long, or being able to tell instantly when you're anything other than the happy go lucky girlfriend he usually sees you as. so, when your lingering gaze begins to trail across his arms a little too long whenever he passes your shared bedroom on his way to the shower, or when your mouth opens and closes to swallow before you're pressing your thighs together subtly each time he moves to wipe himself down each time he’s home— it all sparks something in him. it told him to finally, finally indulge in the nasty thoughts he’s kept tucked away to himself once and for all.

except he doesn’t. because at the end of the day, sunghoon is a gentleman. he pulls open the doors for you with nonchalance written all over him despite his burning ears, and he brings you back your memorised coffee order alongside a few sweet treats when he knows you’re on your period. he holds you close when you’re asleep in bed together, rubbing a gentle thumb against the skin of your cheek because he’s aware that’s what it takes for you to fall asleep, and makes sure you know he’s always going to be there for you in any time of need, even if he’s a thousand miles away. he’s never once made you doubt him, never once given you any reason to suspect he could be anything beyond the perfect, storybook written boyfriend he’s always been. 

until today, at least.

it was a day like any other, a day where you wouldn’t have expected things to take the turn they took at all. you and sunghoon were tangled up in your lavender sheets with your leg thrown over his, the morning sun streaming through the beige curtains you’d picked out on your ikea date together, and no alarms were intact to disturb you as it was the weekend. that’s probably why you both found yourselves in your current situation, your mouths meeting sloppily for short kisses and your boyfriend’s cock buried to the hilt inside you, thrusting ever so gently every other second as he whispered sweet praises to you between the meshing of your lips. the only sounds heard beyond the chirping of the birds outside your window were your soft moans and his low grunts, alongside the quiet noises of your slick dragging against his dick.

“fuck, baby. you feel so good.” sunghoon mumbles, pressing gentle smooches along the skin of your chin and jaw. you reply back something unintelligible, too lost in the euphoria he’s providing you to even form a coherent answer, which only makes him chuckle. he pulls back to admire your figure underneath him, a smile spreading across his lip at the sight of you laid out oh so pretty and pliant just for him. for him. all for his use. his use and his use only. the eventual thought makes his cock twitch inside you, and sunghoon momentarily slows down his movements in fear he’ll accidentally lose control of himself and fuck you into the sheets. his loss of momentum causes you to whine out loud though, large doe eyes blinking up at him in wonder, almost as if asking what happened, which does not make your boyfriend’s job any easier.

“hoonie, faster.” you beg softly, one hand coming up to grip his shoulder as the other bundles up the duvet underneath you. “please, wan’ it so bad.” sunghoon feels like his resolve is on the brink of snapping at your words, and he quickly resumes his previous pace (albeit still slower than what you wanted but better nonetheless) with gritted teeth, trying to think of something, anything that would distract him from the realisation of how fucking small you look under him, or how soft your hand feels resting on his skin. it doesn’t help that the sounds spewing from your lips are so cute, only spurring him on further to do what he longs to. 

“yeah, angel? want it faster? want hoonie to fuck you deeper?” he groans out instead, biting his lip at the sight of you nodding almost instantly to his words. your hole clenches even tighter around him as he speaks to you, and he shudders at the sensation. “shit, don’t do that, princess. might cum too quickly.” he exhales shakily, confused when you shake your head. “don’t care. cum f’me. wanna feel it, please.” you plead almost instantly without thinking, sunghoon’s eyes darkening as the request leaves your mouth. his pace comes to an immediate halt after that, and you make a noise of complaint at the loss of pleasure in your lower region, legs kicking up slightly in protest as you eye your boyfriend who’s currently trying to compose himself above you.

“don’t.. don’t say stuff like that.” sunghoon sighs, eyes closed shut as you cock your head to the side. you’re about to ask him why when he speaks up again. “i won’t be able to hold myself back if you do.” he professes darkly, opening his orbs back up to look deep into yours, his smouldering gaze making you shiver. you involuntary tighten around him at his confession, and he hisses at the feeling, head snapping to look down at you and the blush spreading across your cheeks. 

“i-i don’t.. don’t want you to hold back.” you mutter whilst looking away meekly before he can even comment on your actions. you meet his stare again after a beat of silence, but there’s something dark and sinister swimming in it now, and by the time you can even process what it is, he’s suddenly sheathing himself back into your warm walls, plowing into you with a heightened pace as if this is the last time he’ll ever get to fuck you. your moans tumble out of your mouth before you can even stop them, and you swear you hear sunghoon growl at the way you keen from his movements. 

“yeah? don’t want me to hold back? want me to absolutely destroy this wet cunt with my cock? ruin it for everybody else and mould it to the shape of my dick?” he grunts, a smirk spread across his face as you wildly nod at his words. “what, too fucked out to speak now, baby? where’s that confidence from before, hm?” you whimper at his condescending tone, the noise travelling straight to his core as he curses, continuing to plunge himself deep into you. the tip of his cock brushes against that spongey spot inside you, and you cry out when he angles his thrusts to hit it each time he drives inside your pussy. 

“who knew you were such a slut, huh baby? tell me, how long have you wanted me to spread you open and fuck you like i hated you?” sunghoon pants, tongue lolling out to lick at the sweat gathering on your neck. “s-so long, hoonie!” you mewl in response, eyes rolling to the back of your head when he bites down on your skin. “wanted you to— hnng, wanted you to bend me over and throw me around so bad!” sunghoon laughs breathlessly at your answer. 

“yeah, pretty? want me to use my big arms and toss you onto the bed? you should’ve told me sooner that you were such a whore.” you clench at the degrading name, and sunghoon almost stumbles into you at the sudden jolt of shock. “would’ve done everything you wanted me to. wanted it just as bad as you, did ya know that?” he grits out, pace unrelenting and unforgiving as he proceeds to pound into you. “you’re so fucking small, baby. makes me so goddamn hard every time i think about it. just want to, oh fuck— want to hold you down and make you take it.” 

“do it! do it, hoonie, please do it! make me take it, i wan’ take it for you.” you sob, and sunghoon physically feels the last of his self restrain break in half. he’s far too fucked out now to go back to his old ways, far too gone in the dizziness of making you feel good. his only goal now is to make you cum violently around him, and he’ll stop at nothing to achieve that. “gonna do it, baby. just wait, gonna fuck you so dumb, you’ll be begging me to stop.” he pauses momentarily to grab at the plush of your thigh and tosses your leg over his shoulder, resuming his past actions in the blink of an eye as you cry out at the change. he hits deeper, more harsh this way, and you swear you can feel him battering your cervix with each thrust delivered to your abused cunt.

“fuck, look at that.” sunghoon laughs in disbelief, his eyes fixed on the slightly evident bulge of his cock thrusting in and out of you in your stomach. “taking my cock so well, princess. you gonna cum for me soon, yeah? gonna cum for hoonie and make a mess of me?” he coos at the way you’re drooling, swiping a thumb up to wipe at the spit leaking out of your mouth before sucking it off, the visual of it only making you whine even more. by now, the bed is stained with your leaking arousal, but neither of you care, especially not when he involuntarily moves his hand to press down on your stomach. his movements only cause you to double over in pleasure, and before either of you know it, you’re shaking through an orgasm, thrashing and wailing as tears stream down your face.

“shit, shit, shit! that’s so hot, oh fuck.” sunghoon moans. “you did so well, angel. did so fucking good for me, you deserve a reward, don’t you? don’t you, my baby?” he rambles, and you whine in overstimulation as his thrusts grow more frantic and misplaced when he begins chasing his own release. “get ready, princess, ‘m gonna fill you up. gonna breed you so, so good and make you take it, yeah? you’ll take it, won’t you? take it so good for me like you always do.” by this point, you’re both trembling and whining out loud, sunghoon pistoning his hips into you as he desperately fixes to cum. he can feel the pressure building up, his balls tightening with each harsh thrust he delivers inside of you, and you’re more than ready to feel him ooze out of you, encouraging words spilling from your lips.

“do it, hoonie! do it, please! make me full and fuck it back into me. i’ll take it so good, so good, please baby, please.” you’re babbling by now, too fucked out to think let alone speak, but your words seem to send sunghoon over the edge because by the time you’re even halfway through your sentence, he’s shooting ropes inside of you, painting your walls white with his seed. there’s so much of it that it almost leaks out despite his cock keeping you plugged up, and you watch his beautiful face contort in pleasure, eyebrows furrowed and eyes clenched shut as he continues filling you up. 

“fuck..” sunghoon sighs out once he’s come down from his high, looking down to grip his cock and pull it out slightly only to push it back in when your cunt gushes with his release, causing him to bite his lip at the sinful sight. you whine when he moves back into you, his large arms caging your smaller frame in as he leans down to pepper salty kisses all over your face. “my good girl.” he whispers, slightly collapsing on top of you to catch his breath. his weight on you feels comforting, almost natural as you wrap your tired arms around his back tightly, pressing your bodies together even more than they already are to feel closer and connected to him.

“i didn’t know you were into that.” sunghoon speaks up after a moment of silence, causing you to open your eyes and look at him. he moves so he’s laying on his side, cock still keeping you plugged up despite the awkward position. “into what?” he deadpans at your reaction, and you giggle. “c’mon, babe. you can’t seriously look like that and expect me to not be feral for you.” you smile, and sunghoon huffs out a laugh, spooning an arm around you as he pulls your body closer to his warm one. “still, who knew my girl was so freaky?” you swat at him, and his chest rumbles with laughter, the sound sending an odd pool of warmth flowing through your chest. you both lay there in silence after that, basking in each other’s presence and enjoying the serenity and afterglow which comes from what was quite literally the best sex of your lives. 

“i love you.” you hear sunghoon mumble suddenly, his voice drowsy as he yawns cutely, a large grin spreading on your face at the simple three words which leave him. you reach out for his hand, lacing your small fingers in it before bringing it up to your mouth and pressing a kiss to the back. “love you more, hoonie.” you sigh out in satisfaction, eyes slipping shut slowly as sleep welcomes your tired senses.

you gradually drift off, thoughts filled with sweet dreams of your boyfriend and his precious laughter. 

. . .

comments and reblogs are always appreciated! <3

[rainrot4me]

Jeff the Killer General Headcannons

Summary: Basic, SFW, and NSFW head-cannons. My personal thoughts, feelings, and opinions about Jeff as a character.

TW: NSFW below the cut, minors dni! Above the cut is sfw!

Words: 2.6k

Basic:

- Big isolation guy. He enjoys pestering people or hanging out, but when it comes to personal things like missions or killing sprees, he prefers to be alone. His head’s already loud enough that he doesn’t need to add to it when he’s trying to focus.

- Blunt. Like to the point it’s a drag to even talk to him sometimes. He doesn’t really give a shit about anyone or anything besides himself, so why would he need to hide what he actually wants to say?

- Dangerously short temper. It barely takes one nasty remark or even a hint that you have ill intent towards him before the killer is on your ass. Would rather beat the shit out of you than take the time to reconcile.

- A STARER. Has absolutely no remorse when just boring his eyes into someone, eyes wide and horrifying. He loves to watch every expression as he’s ending someone’s life, every bit of anger or fear, but especially the blank stare in their eyes afterward. You catch his glance all the time, and instead of looking away politely like a normal person would, he just smiles as he glares even harder.

- Loves story based video games that Ben shows him. Life is Strange, Night in the Woods, and What Remains of Edith Finch. Has to play them all in their entirety before he can do anything else, so he’ll be glued to the couch for days.

- Has a difficult time with names, so he comes up with nicknames or terms to make it easier. “Twitch” - Toby, “Sockets” - Jack, or “Glitch” - Ben. Don’t worry, he’ll give you one, too.

- A laugher. When he’s in pain, when he’s sad, when he’s happy, that man is laughing. Choked out dry heaving chuckles or tipsy short airheaded giggles, it doesn’t matter, he will be laughing.

- Terrible sleep paralysis and nightmares keep him up during the night, the most sleep this man will ever get is a little over 3 hours. It really doesn’t help his mood, either.

- The scars on his cheeks used to bleed and get infected so bad he could barely shut his mouth due to the swelling. He would numb it down with pain killers and anything he could find, but it wasn’t until Slender tried to make him into a proxy that they eventually sealed and scarred over, creating wide gashes (weird cryptid powers).

- Thinks about his brother every waking moment. He feels so much pent up regret and sadness concerning Liu, but refuses to search for him or even shed a tear. This sends him into mental breakdown episodes, and sadly, the only relief is just to create more carnage.

- Actually really hates violence unless he’s the one delivering it. Doesn’t like violent movies or music because they romanticize everything he hates about himself. Any media he enjoys is either really bland or really toned down, stuff that won’t trigger him.

- Cuts his own hair, and yes, he’s horrible at it.

- Messed up his appearance to make himself ‘beautiful’, but just ended up so disgusted and ashamed of himself in the long run. When his mental fog gets bad, he’ll just stand in front of the mirror and stare at himself, letting every negative thought wash over. Outside, he’ll brandish it like a weapon, something to get victims to submit. But on the inside, it’s just a nasty reminder.

- Showers only when it gets to the uncomfortable point. He doesn’t have the time or energy or wash himself every day, but when it gets to the point he feels the blood and grime subconsciously, he’ll get over it. Even if he does wash himself, half the time actually in the shower is just letting the water run over him and staring at the tile wall.

- Gets all of his money and random trinkets from victims. Proceeds to spend all that money almost immediately after on a pack of Blue Moons. No orange slice, either.

- Messy, disgusting room. Has no healthy habits of keeping him or his space tidy, so it’s always near disastrous.

- Even though the media and lots of outlets perceive him as this insane maniac killer, those were all big stories from his teenage years. Even though he doesn’t feel like he’s matured, he’s definitely found a happy medium away from spree after spree of slaughter. He still itches to take down a whole neighborhood, but he’s found his ways to cope.

- Very good at hand-to-hand combat. He wields a knife if things get a little rough, but prefers to use his hands to do the dirty work. Makes it feel more personal to him.

- Late-night kitchen demon. You’ll find him rummaging the fridge or making a bowl of cereal in the complete darkness, but he’ll swear up and down it wasn’t him.

- Annoying, painfully so. Hell wrack EJ’s ear off or pester Toby about little things, but he can’t help but get giddy when he sees he’s ticked them off just enough.

- Really agile. Had a thinner build, but muscle definition and tension really adds to the aesthetic. Really defined v-line and hips bones, as well as carved out shoulders and collarbones. Looks like a beefier skeleton, but hot.

- Lip piercings. Snake bites. They’re not healed and they’re not pretty, but he thinks they look badass.

- Scars and jagged pieces of flesh everywhere on his body. They’re either from mission aftermaths, rough targets, or his own doing, but they’re all gnarly and barely healed half of the time. They hurt terribly, but he’s constantly cracked out on painkillers that he doesn’t even care anymore.

- Enjoys the shoegaze music genre. Aldn, Wisp, Elita, Deftones, and surprisingly, The Cardigans and The Cranberries. They remind him of his childhood.

Dating Him/SFW:

- “Baby” “Babe” “Cunt”

- Big words of affirmation guy. He’ll act disgusted and shove you off, rolling his eyes about your sweet words- but in reality, he’s gushing so hard he can’t stand it. Reassurance makes him feel more loved than anything.

- The fastest ‘enemies or lovers’ troupe you’ll ever experience. It’ll only take one face-to-face argument before you both get too close and he’s pulling you in for a rough make out. He’s bad with emotions, what makes you think he wouldn't be bad at reading love/hate signals too.

- HATES to show any sign of weakness or adoration. If you’re laying with him or holding his hand, as soon as someone enters the room he’s shoving you off. It’s not that he doesn’t love you, it’s a deep-rooted fear that someone will use you against him.

- If he’s spent the night in your bed, he will always be gone by the time you’ve woken up. Out of fear of vulnerability, he will only fall asleep after you and wake up before you, otherwise he just won’t stay with you at all.

- He’s like dealing with a little kid. Yes, he’s been through heaps of mental anguish and trauma, but he’s gone through all of that without a hand to hold. In some sad way, he sees something motherly and comforting in you which drives him to latch on and become dependent. It's weird, but so is he.

- Jealousy problems. Big time.

- “He touched you. So I cut his arm off. What is so hard to understand here?”

- Needs to be bossed around. He can and will rot in his bed all day unless you tell him to get up and do something.

- Absolutely melts when you kiss him unprovoked. When he doesn’t force you or tease you into one, but when you decide to kiss his face or hands on your own terms. It’s his favorite thing.

- In his manic brain, he wants something calm, someone who can settle him out. You offer him stability and a chance to unwind and that’s really all he needs.

- As a nervous response, he’ll intentionally push you away if he knows you like him. He holds a lot of regret, so he doesn’t want to drag you along with the rest of his baggage. Will say and do things he knows will hurt your feelings so you leave on your own.

- “And what made you think I’d want you? Because we kissed? Hah! How cute.” Meanwhile, he’s in his room pining himself to shreds.

- Watches you sleep constantly. Doesn’t matter where you are or how far, he will trek through your window or into your bed to watch you snore quietly against your pillow. He likes the vulnerability of it and acting as your ‘protector’, like you have no choice but to rely on him in this state.

- You are the last person Jeff wants to break down in front of, but when it eventually happens, and you’re there with open arms- the killer can barely breathe from how full his heart feels. The feeling of just being able to sob and bury into your shoulder while you rub his back is incomparable.

- Possessive AND protective to a fault. Wants everyone to know you’re his, but at the same time, really enjoys when you flaunt yourself so he can stare down the wandering eyes and really show them who they’d be messing with. Either way, eats it up when you feel good about yourself and safe in him.

- Nasty, terribly toxic relationship. You both bounce off of each other and are constantly arguing, but you both get over it because you’ve grown codependent. There’s nothing ‘casual’ about the two of you, you’re either fuck buddies or desperately clawing at each other for survival. Jeff is an obsessive guy, he either wants everything to do with you or he’ll hide away and tear himself apart over you.

- Jewelry is such a yes for him. If you’re wearing thick earrings or chunky necklaces that brighten your face, he eats it up. He’s such a sucker for silver.

- Does not ask for kisses, he takes them.

- “C’mon baby, I can’t help it. You’re just so fun to mess with.”

- Since he doesn’t sleep much, likes to lay on his back while your head rests on his chest/shoulder. He’ll tangle his fingers through your hair or brush your cheek with his thumb while he stares at you or the ceiling. Even when he has doubts about you loving him, your body always subconsciously shifts towards him while you’re snoozing, and it makes him feel just a little better.

- Fake punches/hits you when he’s bored. Will hold his hands up and box at your face but never making contact, just enough to have you side-eye him. He thinks it’s funny.

- Shoulder kisses.

Dating Him/NSFW:

- Can and will touch you inappropriately no matter the circumstances. His rough hands groping your ass or shoving between your thighs to give flirty little touches in front of everyone, his shit-eating grin when you get embarrassed.

- “Stop glaring, sweet cheeks. I know you want me.”

- Will fight to his dying day that he’s a top, but as soon as you even give him a glint of dominance or snap at him, he’s folding so fast. Dominant person, submissive lover.

- Killing machine on the field, pathetic ass bottom in bed. It takes forever to get to that point, but once he’s mentally checked out and half-drooling on the mattress, he’s so pliable and lightheaded he’ll take it with ease. You have to really work for it, but Jeff trusts you/wants it bad enough subconsciously that he’ll force himself to go into a subspace.

- All-time favorite position is laying you out on your back, one leg up on his shoulder while the other is being held down at your side. It really opens you up and gives the nastiest, most lewd noises that have him pussydrunk. Bonus points for reaching a hand in to choke you.

- “And to think you were beggin’ me to stop while your pussy is soaked. I mean, look at you, babe. You’re suckin’ me in somethin’ awful.”

- CHOKING. Either you or him, he gets off on it so bad. Choking you is so satisfying, he loves the resistance and struggle as you gasp for air, face flushed and eyes rolling with his fist around your throat. Meanwhile, if you’re choking him, his body nearly convulses from the pleasure. He loves the lightheadedness and pressure of it, hoarse chuckles as both of your hands grip around his neck and just squeeze. He thinks he could cum just from being strangled.

- “What’s wrong, baby? Lil’ too much? Ah- You’ll get over it, just open up f’me.”

- Hair pulling, strangling, biting, smacking—really anything that’ll cause pain.

- Standing side-by-side in the mirror, his body is littered with nasty cuts and scars while yours is littered with pretty bite marks and hickeys. He loves it.

- Eating you out is so tiring, but it’s all worth it to look up and see your heavy, glassed-over eyes beaming down at him, lips parted as you’re gasping.

- Hard, quick thrusts that have you gasping and yelping. His hips snap against yours rhythmically until you throw your head back, then he leans in close and shifts his knees closer to really speed up. He never has a set pace, but prefers always adjusting to whatever has you making the most noise.

- “C’mon… Louder- Hah- I’m not stoppin’ till you’re cryin’ for it.”

- A bitch fight every time you two get together. Bickering with the other about ‘who can last longer’ or ‘going until you beg for it’ and it irritates the shit out of both of you. Gets you both riled up that you’re more fighting than fucking, but by the end, you’re both dead exhausted and reduced to panting messed laid out on top of each other.

- Refuses to pull out. He can’t get you pregnant, Slender made sure of that (God help if this heathen was allowed to procreate), so it’s either in your cunt, ass, or mouth, nowhere else. Even if he’s jerking himself off, he’ll wait to cum until he can get to you and finish himself out.

- Stands over you and stares hard enough until you’re reduced to your knees, words never even leaving his lips before you’re unbuckling his belt and shifting his jeans down. He’s fought you enough, sometimes you like to just be good for him.

- Pulling him in by his belt >>>>>>>>>

- Eating you out or sucking you off so much that drool leaks from his scars, eyes so hazed and soft as he hums and moans against you.

- “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

- Fucked you with the handle of his knife because you read something about it in a book and wanted to see if it actually felt good. He was weirded out at first, but when he watched you jerking your hips and mumbling for him to fuck you, he’s never fucked his cock in faster while rubbing the blunt of the handle against your drooling clit. Same thing with running the blade against your skin. It just elicits some reaction out of you that he can’t understand, but it turns him on terribly.

- Has a big thing for cop x prisoner roleplay actually.

- “What? Officer, how am I supposed to finger you with these handcuffs, hm? I guess you’ll just have to let me go, yeah? Or do you not want it as bad as your pussy leads me to believe?”

- Really loves fingering you while he’s buried in your ass. Curling his fingers up to make you arch your back just a little more, having your head spinning from the overstimulation… yeah.

- A 2-3 round champion. He’ll never be able to just cum once and be satisfied, regardless if you’re ready to stop or not, he’s forcing his cock back into wherever it was or in a completely different hole and riding himself out to his next orgasm. If he’s not shaking and on the verge of passing out after sex, it wasn’t good enough for him.

- “Jeff, stop! We could get caught!” “Or you could just shut up and take your panties off. You’re soaked, there’s no point in fighting me when I’m already this hard… C’mon, baby, give me your hand or something…”

Thanks for reading!

Comments and reblogs are appreciated!

[basicallyjeankirschtein]

Left On Read - JJK Smau

chap2: why me? masterlist

warnings: slutshaming(directed towards you)

notes at end for those interested!

the minute you stepped into yuta’s dorm, you felt like you had just experienced a breakup. a bad, traumatic breakup. there was already a bowl of your favorite candy on the bed, untouched for you to engross yourself in. on the bed held numerous pillows and blankets, too many to count, with a laptop ready to screen Smile.

“hi, yuta.” you greet him with a friendly smile, a bit tense just by the atmosphere of the room. yuta seemed… guilty. a sheepish smile on his face that didn’t seem all that genuine.

“hi!” he greeted back, already yanking you down to his bed to watch the movie. “this is a scary movie, it’s great! we’ll watch the second right after this with everyone else-“

at the mention of the rest of the friend group, yuta began to trail off, going silent. he refused eye contact, instead blankly staring at the screen infront of him.

“you okay?” you asked, a bit concerned by the lack of energy he had just moments before.

“uh, actually, i’ve been meaning to show you something..” yuta begins after hesitating a few moments, fumbling with his phone.

“it’s of the group chat, before you joined…”

your soul leaves your body as you read the messages on his screen.

you don’t know whether you should cry or laugh. maybe both. this was humiliating, and yuta was the only one trying to defend you?

“why would maki do that.” is all you’re able to muster, voice shaky yet lacking emotion.

“… it’s a really long story.” yuta sighed, running a hand through his hair.

“i honestly don’t know that much,” he begins. “she used to be in a friend group with just toge and panda, i joined a bit later. i was left out a lot, she was real mean to me but i never let it get to me… after awhile, she just turned to panda.”

panda? you had heard of him through toge. never met him though, and he’s never been in the group chat. what did maki do to him?

“i guess she lost interest in me cause i never reacted, so she began to fat shame panda a lot..” yuta gulped, sweat beading at his forehead. why did he look so guilty?

“panda left the chat after awhile. the only one who still has his contact is toge. without panda, she must’ve gotten bored and chose to target you..”

“why me?”

-

- yuji do NOT gaf 😭😭 a true sheep

- maki is mean for a reason btw i hate making girls mean i love girls girls so she will be explained soon!

- sorry if it’s rushed i wrote this before bed.. teehee

- gonna do a poll for love interest! keep in mind, i will not write nsfw for canon underage characters regardless of the fact i aged them up to 19. for canon of age characters, they will either be the same age as this squad or a bit older, i will write nsfw for them probably.

okayy thanks for reading chat!! here’s who’s asked to be tagged <3 @shokosbunny @kalulakunundrum @tenthmilo

[amoressb]

𐙚 Hairclips

pairings : emo bf!niki x coquette!reader

synopsis : in which you saw you had some cute hairclips laying around and had the perfect idea to decorate your bfs hair in them

⋅˚₊‧𐙚‧₊˚ ⋅

You were walking around your dorm trying to find something to do. It was around 5 in the afternoon, you had a little snack and brought it to the couch in the living room.

Turning on the tv, it illuminated the small room as well as the two hairclips you left on the table. Suddenly you had an idea. Sprinting to your room, you find yourself looking for more clips and bingo! You found your drawer full of cute hairclips youve bought overtime and some your bf had gifted you.

That’s right. Niki. Your sweet loving bf.

You found it cute how he was basically the complete opposite of you. You loved all cute things and mostly stuffed animals. He on the other hand likes the complete opposite but that didn’t deter you from falling in love with him. Just then you look back at one of your plushies that remind you of him. Your badtz maru plushy. You had won it on a date you’ve recently went on with him and instantly fell in love with it as it reminded you of him. But back to the main thing here..hairclips.

You wanted him to come over quickly and what more of a perfect idea than to say that it was an emergency or that it was urgent that he come over. I mean technically you weren’t wrong..you missed him badly and you wanted to see him. So you grabbed your phone and sent the message to him.

A couple of minutes later, there was urgent knocks to your door and you ran to it knowing it was Niki. “What ha-“ was all Niki could say before he was dragged quickly to your room and sat down on the floor while you grab all the clips and sit on the bed. He was too tall to sit in the chair resulting in you having to be on your tippy toes.

“Can you tell me what-“ again he was silenced when you put your finger towards his lips smiling simply saying shhhh. You started by grabbing a pink bow of course and placed it on the side of his head clipping back his hair. You scooted back a bit and you were already in love with this idea. Immediately grabbing your phone you took a picture for memories of course and the bow was just too cute.

Many clips later, you reached the best clip of them all. Your badtz maru clip. He had been sitting there patiently waiting for you to finish. He realized a while ago that this is what was so ‘urgent’. The whole time he was admiring you and falling in love with your smile more and more as you keep adding more clips to his hair. He had his arms wrapped around your waist so you can be closer to him. He also ended up laying his head or his chin up on your lap as he was starting to slowly fall asleep to your soft touch and the cozy warm feeling he’s feeling being here with you.

Happily putting the special clip in his hair, you grabbed your phone once again to take a picture, letting you see that his eyes are closed which made it all the more cute. This was gonna be your new wallpaper for a lonng time. “I’m done my love” you say softly to him. “So this is what was so urgent huh” he sleepily chuckles. You smile as his sleepiness and softly lift his head up in your hands and melt seeing him lean into your touch. “I’m sorry it took so long” you say feeling bad that he had been stuck here for a while in the same position cuz you had that many clips. He smiled saying he didn’t mind and he was just happy to be with you.

You will say the contrast between him and the clips made it all the more perfect. He was wearing black plaid pajama pants with a black long sleeve so the pop of so much color on him with your hair clips really was perfect.

“The things i let you do to me” he says as he cuddles up to you wrapping his arms around your waist after having to sit longer just to take the clips off. You giggle into his chest and look up at him. You both looked into each others eyes not realizing you both are slowly leaning into each other. He lands a sweet kiss on your lips pulling back shortly after smiling down at you. “Goodnight y/n, i love you” he says kissing your forehead. “Goodnight Niki, i love you too” you say cuddling closer into his chest. You both fall asleep with a smile on your faces.

[writingwithciara]

family game night -quinn hughes-

summary: game night at the lake house. what could go wrong?

word count: 2.6k

pairing: quinn hughes x reader

notes: idk

game nights at the hughes' lake house were mandatory for anyone staying there. they were also known for being the most fun anybody in the group ever had.

but with the good times, come the bad ones and the awkward ones. some friendships are seriously tested when game night begins and if one of the boys brings a girlfriend to a game night, the relationship usually doesn't last much longer than the summer.

and that is why a 'no significant others allowed' rule was implemented for the summers. everyone wanted to protect their respective relationship and refused to subject their significant other to the torture that ensued.

hanging in the family room was a scoreboard that kept track of who had won the most games since the family game night started years ago. and luke hughes was tied for first place with his jack's best friend, y/n.

the youngest hughes had dreamt of claiming the crown on his own but that became impossible when he and y/n got paired together the first night. they went on to win every game that night and decided they would always partner together.

jack used to argue with it, claiming that it was against the rules to be with the same partner year after year. but seeing y/n and luke jump for joy whenever they won, meant more to him than he expected so he dropped the argument after the second year.

so when luke was unavailable for the fourth year, y/n turned to her best friend.

"please jack? you're my best friend and i can't win without you."

"don't you mean you can't win without luke?" jack smiled, knowing it would get on her nerves. but that's what they did. they bickered like brother and sister.

"he's the dumbass who went and broke his arm earlier this week so if you won't be my partner, i'm gonna lose my crown."

"well, it's about time, ain't it princess?"

"jack, i'm serious. will you please be my partner?"

"no can do, sweetheart. already promised trevor i'd play with him this year."

"but i thought this year, you were gonna partner with quinn. and if he's not your partner, then that means-"

"that he's a free agent. why don't you ask him to be your partner?"

"we never talk. i highly doubt we'd be on the same wavelength long enough to retain my crown."

"wouldn't hurt to ask. you both need a partner and you're both good at games." jack shoved some chips in his mouth and snatched the remote back that y/n had taken from him when she entered the living room.

"you were no help, jackass." y/n rolled her eyes and went upstairs to find quinn.

that was the year she and quinn won every game, causing her to take the lead over luke in most wins. she was happy with the outcome and had decided to partner with quinn the following year.

but when she arrived at the lake house for the 5th year, she was shocked to find out that quinn had brought his new girlfriend for the few weeks they'd be on vacation. and that meant that she'd be back with luke for game night. but that didn't bother her. she loved playing games with luke but she was under the impression that she and quinn had a surprisingly good amount of chemistry when it came to game night.

when jack arrived at the house, he went to quinn and started restating the rules.

"i thought we had a rule, quinn. no significant others allowed. remember?"

"i remember. but i also made the rule and therefore, am the one who can lift it. plus, our relationship is strong enough to withstand the torture of game night."

"well then if you're allowed to have your girlfriend here, then i'm going to invite mine." jack pulled out his phone and dialed his girlfriends number.

"i am too." luke did the same, leaving y/n to wonder who her new partner would be.

after everyone arrived, it was officially time to start the game night. since all the boys ended up inviting their girlfriends, y/n was forced to partner with brock. she didn't know much about him and he was fairly new to the group so she was worried about losing. but he turned out to be amazing. they ended up winning 2 of the first 3 games, basically securing her spot at the top of the leaderboard. but when quinn and jack got in an argument about whose relationship was stronger, their version of the newlywed game was announced.

"we don't have to play this, right?" y/n asked while looking up at brock.

"we don't have to. but i'm sure there's a way we could kick their asses in this game." brock smiled.

quinn went to go find the game and each couple started their own conversations.

"if we want to win, i need to know everything about you."

y/n and brock began to share as much information with each other as they could before quinn came back with the board and question cards. he quickly explained the rules and the game began.

after 12 rounds, it was shocking how far ahead y/n and brock were. for not being a couple, they somehow knew more about each other than the real couples did.

when y/n answered another question about brock right, quinn threw the cards down.

"you guys are obviously cheating. there's no way that brock could've known that your favorite meal to eat when you're upset is meatballs covered in nacho cheese with a glass of orange juice. or that you had a crush on danny phantom until you were 14. or that when you're sick, you really enjoy cuddles on the couch while watching coraline on repeat." quinn looked from y/n to his girlfriend. both girls were giving him weird looks. "what?"

"you sound jealous, quinny." his girlfriend marissa narrowed her eyes at him.

"i'm not. i just don't like losing this game. our relationship is strong enough that i don't have to prove it with this stupid game." he grabbed his drink and stood up. "come one, babe. let's go."

he and marissa walked outside while the group dispersed into their own little worlds.

"guess that means we win, huh?" brock looked at y/n as he began cleaning up the game.

"yeah. guess so." she smiled and started helping him. "thanks for helping me retain my crown."

"it was a lot of fun. maybe next year, we can be partners again."

"okay. that sounds like a good idea." y/n looked at the back door and saw quinn and marissa arguing. "so, what do you think was going on with quinn earlier?"

"i'm not sure. he's usually competitive but seeing him blow up over a game as meaningless as that one was very odd. but also kind of interesting." brock followed her gaze and only saw quinn standing outside. "i think he has a thing for you."

"no he doesn't. why would you say that?"

"the way he was upset that we were getting so many questions right."

"he would've gotten mad at anyone who was beating him."

"but he and marissa were in 5th place. he could've gotten upset with trevor, luke or cole. he didn't have to be upset with us. but he chose to get mad at you instead. plus, he rattled off those facts about you like they were common knowledge. face it. he pays attention to you, y/n."

"maybe so. but that doesn't necessarily mean he's into me."

"believe what you want." brock chuckled. "but i can tell when he's into someone."

as brock headed up the stairs & to his room, y/n went out to the back porch to talk to quinn.

"hey. you alright?"

"why brock?"

"pardon me?"

"why did you partner up with brock?"

"because all you assholes broke the 'no significant others' rule and invited your girlfriends to our game night. brock and i are the only single people in the group & game night is mandatory. i was not allowed to sit out." y/n looked at him. "although, since one rule was broken tonight, i probably could've said 'fuck it' & went out for a ride on the lake with brock instead."

"okay. that's fair, i guess." quinn sighed. "but how did he know all that stuff about you? you guys have barely ever talked before."

"i don't know. maybe he just knows things about me."

"it sounds a little creepy to me. i'm thinking you should stay away from him."

"why? he's your friend."

"yeah. but still. better safe than sorry."

"okay, you know what? no. you do not get to break a rule & then try to take over my life like this. if i want to hang with brock, i will. because it's my decision. not yours." y/n sat down in her favorite chair. "ugh. why are you being such an asshole today?"

"i'm just looking out for a friend."

"great excuse." y/n shook her head. "stop trying to run my life, quinn. i don't want you in it."

"you don't want me in your life?" he sounded shocked.

"not if you're gonna run it." y/n looked out towards the boat. "you're not gonna stop, are you?"

"no." he sighed. "i'm sorry but i just can't. not when i'm only looking out for you."

"i appreciate it, quinn. but i'm a big girl who can take care of herself. i don't need you doing it for me."

"i'm sorry."

"if you're really sorry, you'll let me have fun the rest of the time i'm here."

"okay. if you want to have fun, whether it be with brock or by yourself, i will try to stay out of your way."

"thanks, quinn." y/n got up and headed back inside. she had one goal in mind and as she ascended the stairs, quinn's words echoed in her mind. she knew getting involved with a hockey player was risky, but she liked brock. he was a good guy.

she knocked on his door lightly and waited for him to open it.

"hey. how'd it go with quinn?" brock smiled when he opened the door.

"he tried to tell me i should stay away from you. we argued for a minute but he apologized and promised to let me have fun the rest of the time i'm here."

"did you guys talk about him having feelings for you?"

"didn't come up, actually. we talked about you and why he got so upset with the game earlier."

"and what did he say to that?"

"he said he was only trying to look out for me and kind of told me i should stay away from you."

"y/n, he's got a thing for you. why else would he be getting so protective and jealous?"

"brock, i really want that to be true. i like him. i really, really do." y/n stepped into his room. "but he's got a girlfriend. one who's actually in his league. marissa is so pretty & i don't know what to do."

"talk to him like he's your best friend. talk to him as if he were jack. be honest with him."

"it's so hard to be honest with quinn. and believe me, i want to tell him how i feel. i just don't think i can anytime soon."

"you're strong and brave. i'm sure you'll figure it out."

"maybe you're right." y/n sat on the edge of the bed. "i originally came up here to tell you how much fun i had playing games with you tonight." she lied.

"i had a lot of fun too." brock smiled. "for the record, it was cute when you got excited every time we'd win."

"oh." y/n blushed. "thanks. i try."

"you and quinn really need to talk."

"yeah yeah. i know." y/n walked over to the door. "see you in the morning." she walked out slowly and stopped in front of quinn's room. "i'm an idiot. he and marissa are probably in there doing god knows what. i can't talk to him now." she sighed and went to turn away. she was only 3 steps down the hall when she heard his door open.

"y/n? what are you doing out here? and who were you just talking to?" quinn asked.

y/n faced him and walked back to him. "we need to talk."

"what is it about now?"

"before i say anything, where's marissa?"

"probably almost home by now." quinn looked at y/n. "she dumped me just after we went outside and right before you came out to talk to me."

"oh. i'm really sorry, quinn. i know you liked her."

"yeah. i think that was the problem. i liked her, but i wasn't in love with her." he smiled slightly, his gaze never leaving the ground. "kind of hard to find someone else to love these days."

"have you been in love before?"

"um, once. when i was 17." he took the opportunity to look to at her. "i didn't know it at the time though. and just when i finally figured it out, she ended up in a serious relationship."

"oh. that sucks. sorry to hear that. what's she like?"

"she is the most kind and gentle person i have ever met. she puts up with someone as crazy as my brother and she seems to truly love him. don't know if it's platonically or otherwise, but there's definitely love there."

"have you ever told her how you felt?" y/n looked at him. "what if there was a chance she felt the same way?"

"i don't see how she would. i haven't been the nicest to her lately. yet, she's still sticking around."

"does this girl happen to be best friends with jack? and is she at the house right now?"

"yeah. she is." he looked at her. "i'm sorry, y/n. i know that you figured it out. and i really am sorry. perhaps i should've told you back when i was 17."

"so, brock was right? you do have feelings for me?"

"yes. but i'm an idiot and i already know you don't have feelings for me. so, as promise, i'm going to stay out of your way while you have fun this summer. i'm sure brock could help you with that."

"i don't want to have fun with brock. i want to have fun with you, quinn."

"with me? why?"

"because....i love you too, dumbass. how can you not understand that?"

"because, as you so affectionately put it, i'm a dumbass."

"clearly." y/n smiled widely when quinn grabbed her hand. "so, are you gonna kiss me or what?"

without another exchange, quinn pressed his lips to y/n's. no hesitation and all the passion one person could give in one simple kiss.

neither of them heard the door open down the hall. but when they heard brock chuckle, they knew they had to pullaway from each other.

"about time. seriosuly, dude. how could you not know y/n was in love with you too?"

"because he's a dumbass." y/n smiled.

"yeah. but i'm your dumbass now, right?"

"absolutely. and it's going to stay that way, right?"

"oh, you bet it will." he kissed her nose, making her giggle.

"you guys are so perfect for each other, i swear." brock shook his head with a chuckle before retreating back to his room.

"so, you and me, huh? i really like the sound of that." quinn smiled. and intertwined his hand with hers.

"yeah, me too." y/n stood in the hallway admiring quinn like he was going to disappear any second.

they were oblivious to the world going on around them. but they didn't care one bit. they were finally together and that's all that mattered to either of them.

[biteyoubiteme]

okay okay okay!!

txt vs no nut november! and maybe single / with a partner and regular sex life

like, would / wouldn't participate (and why), how long it would take for them to lose (if lose at all, I look at you taehyun), why they would lose (idek, forgot, were too stressed, too horny, etc)

would there be a member who would be like "I'll cum at 0:01, november the first, and will enjoy the whole month looking at you all suffer, losers"?

ahhhh now I think of requesting yeonkai x reader about nnn...

txt v. no nut november

warnings: 🔞!!! gn!reader, mentions of masturbation/sex, cockwarming, edging, prob forgot some sorry

wc: 0.7k total

an: hiiii @apeachty you're my favorite because you can read my mind on exactly what I want to write next lol I don't know if I got everything you asked for but I hope you enjoy!

[m.list] [1kevent m.list]

taehyun .ᐟ

if you didn't think taehyun was winning I don't know what you're on but it's just known that he would hold out the longest. If he did lose it was because the clocks had just turned to midnight when he finished effectively ending his need to even participate in a game he knows is arbitrary. This does not mean that he doesn't still try because he loves a challenge. Will spend more time in the gym because of it but he will never complain. The guys will make fun of him saying he's not even in the game anymore seeing as he failed first, will actually go on into the first week of December just to prove a point.

beomgyu .ᐟ

Now I don't think beomgyu is very competitive about most things and if he is it's only because of teasing and needing to prove people wrong. But November is his time to shine. He will actively encourage the other’s partners to tease the boys just so that he can ‘win’ the bet. Will make it through the month but the end is an absolute struggle, suddenly he's getting boners left and right like he's a teenager again. The last day of November is the day he breaks. Technically all the other boys have already lost if you look past taehyun going past November. This is his excuse and doesn't even make it through the morning before he's cumming. By the end of the day, he is three orgasms down and doesn't even care about winning the title besides the fact he can joke about it until next year.

yeonjun .ᐟ

He tries so hard and wants to beat beomgyu because he is his only real competition. Actually masturbates a lot and just edges himself because he likes teasing and the ache it gives him. Avoiding his partner as if that will help anything, his imagination is just well enough. Only makes it a little more than halfway through the month before he's given up. He's not able to stay away from his partner and needs them too much to stop himself. Although he tries to just edge himself again, cockwarming only works until he's absentmindedly thrusting, cursing when he accidentally finishes. Just shrugs and goes another round this time without even feeling sorry. 

kai .ᐟ

Doesn't even remember that he's not supposed to be having sex, and doubly doesn't remember not to cum. He lasts a few days max and only because hadn't been near his partner. But as soon as they come near he's a needy mess, begging to get off because he just missed them so much. Remembers the last second about the group chat and the threats of having to pay for everyone's dinner if he's first to lose. Feels like a failure for only a second before shrugging just glad he doesn't have to worry about it anymore. Promises to win next year even if it's the last thing he does.

soobin .ᐟ

Talks big talk about winning but forgets exactly how often he finishes in a month. Will put himself into a bad mood and it's only been a few hours into November 1st. Has to avoid opening certain apps because he knows his feed will be evil and show him exactly what he wants to see but can't use to get him off. Surprises himself by even making it through the day only not really because he's got his hand down his pants only an hour before midnight. Cums multiple times and doesn't even bring it up that he's lost, actually lies about still holding out until he confesses to Kai that he too did not last long at all. “No, it was actually torture, the only thing I could think about was getting off and wondering exactly where you guys would pick to eat and if it would be that crazy to just send my card info in the chat to get it over with,” 

He and Taehyun have a full back-and-forth that lasts longer than it should about who should give their card to the waiter. The very serious debate ends after the laughter from the other boys is so loud people are looking their way. Soobin grumbles as he pays but knows it's only fair because he technically did lose first. He also knows that he was only a minute shy of actually finishing at midnight before the day even started for their competition and would have ended up paying anyway because unlike taehyun he would not have just continued the competition but would have just given up without even trying. 

taglist 🏷: @kissmekissykissme @bts-txt-ateez @apeachty want to be added to the taglist? check out my rules to see how to join! want to be taken off the taglist? send an ask!

[koenigami]

fucking finally. tags : pure fluff, fem!reader, childhood friends to lovers trope wc : 1,5k synopsis : one single word is sometimes enough to change everything a/n : oh how i missed writing for my baby boy

"Come on, set for me!" Bokuto's heavy arm hooks around your neck as he pulls you into his side, the grown man looking at you with big bright puppy eyes. "Pleeaaase, Y/n."

You sigh at his antics, and eye the net across the street. Initially, this was supposed to be a calm evening walk with your best friend after you had picked him up from practice. Yet, you must admit that it is your own fault for thinking that you can combine the words "calm" and "Bokuto" in one coherent sentence. The weak smile you offer him as you exhale defeatedly is enough for him to sprint over to the sand volleyball court, and pull a ball out of his duffle bag.

He guides you to the other side of the net, enthusiastically explaining how to toss him the ball, how to dig it once he hits it, reminding you to keep a proper stance -

You scoff. As if you haven’t spent half of your free time observing him like a hawk during games and practices. You wouldn’t call yourself good at volleyball per se, but for an amateur you’re not too bad either.

And so your little play time goes on like this for a little while, the ball flying back and forth between the both of you. And before you know it the sun has almost set, painting the sky in a reddish orange hue.

"Kou, it’s getting late. I think we should head home." You tilt your head as you pout at him, stuffing your hands in the back pockets of your jeans. You'd be lying if you said that you weren't a little out of breath.

"Hm? Don’t tell me you’re already tired." He grins mischievously. You know what he’s doing, because if there’s something worse than his puppy eyes, than it is him using your ego against you. He watches you flip him off before you get back into position as he mumbles to himself. “That’s my girl.”

The dull sound of Bokuto’s palm slapping against the ball sounds through the empty court as you watch it hurtle towards you at a speed that you usually only get to witness from the sidelines. With the little reflexes that you have, you manage to duck and dodge the ball. It whizzes past your ear like a bullet before it slams into the sand, right before the end line.

Besides the few birds chirping and cars passing by, you don’t hear any other noise as you stare at him, shock clearly written all over your face. "Damn." Bokuto rubs the back of his head sheepishly, a nervous smile stretched over his face. He fucked up. "What a service ace, huh?"

And that’s it for you. The exhaustion that you’ve been feeling after such a long day turns into irritation, and you don’t even offer him a last glance when you simply turn around and stomp off.

"Shit." He quickly gathers his stuff and hurries after you, nearly stumbling over his own feet as he clumsily makes his way across the sand. Were you always this fast? "Y/n, wait. I swear, I didn't realise I hit it that hard!"

Out of the corner of your eye, you can see him deflate visibly when he eventually catches up with you. He pleads for your attention, to look at him as he talks to you and apologizes, or at least acknowledge his presence. Yet you simply look ahead of you and do none of those things as you keep a petty pout on your face. All while trying to ignore his way too adorable face.

"Oh, come on. I said I was sorry." He all but nearly whines while he wildly gesticulates with his arms as if to prove his point. Something about the way you're ignoring him doesn't sit right with him. If it were anyone else, he'd probably laugh about it but when it comes to you? Bokuto's not sure how to explain it to himself but your cold shoulder feels like a bullet wound in his chest. You, who always laughs at his silly antics and remarks. You, whom he has the best insider jokes with. You, who has never made him feel like being too much.

"Babe!"

It slips out of his mouth, and he briefly has to check his surroundings to make sure that he's not in a fever dream. Because why the heck would he say that? His wide eyes fall to his hand and the way it shakes the slightest bit before he cards it through his hair and down his face. All those years, he managed to keep his silly little crush at bay, since having you as a friend in his life is better than not at all. Yet, all it took was one single slip up to ruin everything.

He fails to notice that you have long since frozen in place, the gears inside your head turning as you wondered whether you might have heard him wrong. You have not.

"What was that?" His eyes are focused on the ground beneath him, though he can't help but cringe as he clearly discerns the teasing and mischievous smile in your voice. Of course you won't let him off that easy.

"What was what?" He laughs nervously, rubs the back of his neck, and you notice how his eyes seem to wander without ever meeting yours. All your previous annoyance has faded away at the sight of Bokuto standing there, nervously playing with the cords on his hoodie, and reminding you a little of his younger self.

You bite back the growing smile on your face as you walk back towards him and step into his field of vision, not giving him a chance to escape you. Because something inside you decides that this is probably the only chance you'll get.

Your heels raise off the ground as you lean over towards him. So close to him, you notice how good he smells. He must have taken a quick shower after practice. Warm, a little prickly from the light stubble along his jaw, and so so right. That's how the short peck you give him feels before you're already walking backwards with a bright grin on your face while eyeing his shocked expression.

A laugh bubbles up your throat when you see realisation hit him of what you just did. Yet you don't expect him to recover so quickly, because your laugh soon dies down as he shoots you his own challenging grin before taking slow tentative steps towards you.

Then you run.

Your hear his loud stomps as he's immediately on your feet while calling out to you, boasting about how you can't just do something like that and run away, about how he's going to get you, that you can't run forever. And you know that you can't. You've tried for so long to escape your feelings, and this time it seems like you failed big time. And apparently so did he.

"Kou, wait no!-" Shrieks and giggles sound through the almost completely empty street once he catches up with you right in front of your apartment building. His hands wander all over your sides, your stomach, your neck- Once Bokuto ceases his tickling assault, there's nothing left but the sound of your quick breaths, chests heaving quickly while you both just stare at each other with adoration, longing, relief. So many emotions and neither of you is sure what to do with them.

"Shit, I think my heart's going to jump out of my chest." He admits with a sheepish chuckle, and grasps your hands as he guides it up to his chest. Your palm slides over the soft fabric, and then you feel it. It's beating so fast that you wonder whether it should worry you. "Can I-"

His words die on his tongue as the tiny little voice of reason inside his head tells him that it might be too early. Maybe it's neither the time nor the place, and another tinier voice in his head, called insecurity, tells him that you're just playing with him, that-

And for the second time that evening, you take his breath away when you mould your lips against his, ever so softly and gently as if you yourself were testing the waters and making sure that this is truly something you both mutually want. But his eagerness is proof enough. His tongue leaves a wet trail along your lower lip while his hands grip your waist tightly in a way that makes it seem as if he was scared that you'd slip through his hands and disappear forever into nothingness.

Only when your lungs start to burn with the lack of oxygen, you eventually part, still so out of breath yet maybe a little more maddly in love than before.

"So- babe, huh?" You tilt your head and speak so quietly as if you were telling him a secret. His fingers smooth down your hair, trying to tame the strands that have been messed up by the wind, and during his little attack.

"Oh, you have no idea." Bokuto rasps, his nose wrinkles the slightest bit as he shoots you a handsome grin before his lips find their way on yours again. He's finally got you, and he's sure to never let you go.

[iluvapplesxh]

︱ So proud, and for what?︱

❀ pair: billie eilish x fem!reader

Your eyelids fluttered open, the harsh light of the morning sun seeping through you and Billie’s bedroom window made them sting but you didn’t shut them as you usually do. Your attention was stolen by the sound of a sniffle from next to you and your neck almost snapped by the speed your head turned to your left, seeing your girlfriend. Blanket up to her chest, hair messy with her phone in her hand. The knuckles of it turned white from the grip she was holding it in and her eyes were red, raw.

Your heart jumped in your throat and a heaviness settled onto your chest, making it seem hard to sit up but you do and you’re slotted into her side in a blink of an eye, brows furrowed in concern and lower lip tucked between your teeth. “Billie?” You croak out, hand lifting to teach her elbow, trying to get a glance at her phone.

Another sniffle left her before her phone was thrown onto the end of the bed, just barely stopping by the edge and she turned, head hitting your shoulder, wet hot tears hitting the fabric of her shirt you’d put on last night. Your arms wrapped around her, still somewhat confused but wanting to comfort her nonetheless.

After what felt like hours and days of listening to her cries and whimpers, she finally spoke, voice raw and shaky; “Kamala lost” Her words made your whole world stop, a lump so bad forming in your throat you wanted to claw at it till it’s inside out. Your fingers gripped her t-shirt, head falling against hers. You felt tears burn your eyes as the realization made your chest heavier than before, breathing ragged. 

The two of you sat there.

In each other’s arms, trying to process everything. 

It suddenly felt like the world came to a stop, your mind racing with the ‘why’s and ‘how’s and many other questions. How could this happen? How did America choose him again? Are we really that selfish?

Your brain couldn't fathom the fact that millions of people who’ve already lived through his economy once, voted for him again like there was nothing to lose. But there was. There was so much to lose, so much at stake and-

Billie’s head rose from your shoulder, cheeks red and wet, small droplets of tears clinging to the ends of her eyelashes. Your eyes met hers and it was like your heart somehow fell lower into the pit of your stomach, sinking lower and lower till you grew nauseous. 

“What now?” 

Her voice shook, gasps of air rattling her chest as she fought tears. Your head shook, helplessness flooding your whole body like acid, burning your skin and making your chest feel hollow. It was your turn to burst into tears, feeling the fear creep up your throat like an unwanted substance, head lowering as your body shook. This time Billie’s arms wrapped around your body, pulling you into her chest, kissing the crown of your head with tenderness and a hint of a promise. A promise that even though it’s really fucking shitty, you’ll have to survive, and she’ll be there and you’ll be there.

The two of you spent hours like that until either of you could force any tears out anymore and you decided to somehow start the day. But nothing felt right, it was quiet. Too quiet and it made you even more scared and aware of everything than you already were. You couldn’t bear to turn on the TV, your phones weren’t picked up since then and you both sat in silence by the dinding table, thoughts unheard but loud in your own heads while you both shuffled the food around your plates.

“Do you think I should still do the show?” Billie spoke up and you looked at her, moistening your dry lips and clearing your throat before responding. 

“If- If you feel like you can…” 

You heard a long sigh leave her lips and she leaned her head back “I don’t know” She muttered and your upper teeth dug into your lower lip, watching the pure feeling of unfairness and disappointment etched in her face.

There were another couple beats of silence before you pushed your plate away and hesitated for a moment before opening your mouth again, lips parting just enough for your words to come out. “Maybe he cheated” 

Billie looked at you again, shifting in her seat and looking down “I don’t know… maybe” She said quietly, a small flicker of hope in her voice but it meant nothing. She chewed on her lip, swallowing around the lump in her throat. You saw her jaw tense and you stood up, walking to her side and taking her face into your hands, tilting it up gently.

“It’s going to be okay” You whispered, thumbs stroking her cheekbones.

Billie basked in the feeling of your touch for a moment before speaking “it’s not who i’m worried about…” She began “it’s every woman suffering right now and the ones who will be because-” You squashed her softly, pulling her head towards you. She rested it on your midsection, eyes closed to keep her tears in. 

And in all honesty, all you had to say to everyone that chose Donald John Trump, was that you hoped so desperately they'd realize just how wrong they were to choose him. You wanted to ask them, why? Why was he the better choice? Why on earth would anyone grown enough to vote choose someone like him? Do they even realize who, what that man is? What he wants?

They were all so proud, and for what?

Of the incoming suffrage of millions and billions of women in the US? Of the pure disgust most of the world is feeling for this country right now?  Of the rights of women, trans people, immigrants who possibly make up the country's working social class taken away?

Was it all for nothing?

✘a/n: i would like to inform everyone that I am NOT American, I am not educated on the topic of the US elections I simply made this out of frustration and empathy.

[haveateadude]

take a bite

summary *. ⋆ ⋆·˚ your gf is spiderman, and she keeps getting hurt

warnings *. ⋆ ⋆·˚ sexual tension i think?? idk. no smut. a very slightly heavy makeout. ellie is hurt!! and there's a description of her wound that is quite detailed i think. the rest is fluff??? and no angst.

author notes *. ⋆ ⋆·˚ every penny i throw in a fountain is another wish for spiderman!ellie to be real. i was literally kicking my feet as i wrote this

Indulging in situations that are fabricated imaginations

Moments that cease to exist

Only want to fix it with a kiss on the lips

After a long night of patrolling, all Ellie wants to do is cuddle and kiss you. You're on your phone, lying on your bed, when she knocks on the window. You stand up to open it, letting Ellie come in, taking her mask off, and then jumping from the window ledge and landing on the floor with a huff. When she presses her hand to her stomach, you know she's hurt.

"Bad day, huh?" You ask as you close the window.

"It was good, I just—you know, I almost got shot."

You wouldn't roll your eyes if this hadn't happened before, but it has. A lot of times, actually. Her reflex when she's fighting gets a little… slow. And by the time she notices the bullet, it's too late, and she's already getting grazed by it.

"You need to be more careful," you say, crossing your arms. "I've told you that before."

"Says you."

You scoff, walking to the bathroom, not even bothering to tell Ellie to follow you.

Ellie sits on the toilet lid, placing her mask on the side of the sink as you take out the first aid kit from the cabinet. She removes her arms off the suit, and then you help her to get out of the shirt she has underneath it, leaving her briefly exposed—only with her sports bra. She's quiet the whole time, looking into your eyes as you work on tending the wound—cleaning and disinfecting. At one point, you end up sitting in her lap, her hands on your waist as you continue to take care of her. 

Thank God it is not too bad, you think. There was a time when Ellie had come with such a bad wound you thought you might have to go to the ER—the wound had been too open and she had been too pale and her face was covered in little cuts, her suit was full of burnt holes and her whole body was bruised. She asked not to go to the hospital, so you swallowed your fear and started cleaning the wound with shaky hands.

A part of you is still scared that she might knock on your window looking like that, or even worse. What would you do, then? Swallow your fear again and take it to your grave? What if something else happens—would your hands be covered in her blood forever, carrying the heaviness of a guilt you don't know where to place?

"Hey," Ellie says, snapping you out of your thoughts. One of her hands on your hips raises your shirt a little, for her to rub your exposed skin with her thumb. With her free hand, she places it on your cheek gently, as her thumb gently pulls your bottom lip out of your teeth. "You okay?"

"Yeah," you whisper. Her touch sends shivers down your spine, and it's taking everywhere in you for not to blush. Her thumb starts caressing your lip as she looks at your lips—then back at your eyes, then back at your lips again—and then she lowers her finger a little, now midway to your chin, gently parting your lips as she gets closer. 

She kisses you, and then it's heaven.

Your fears get lost in the moment, knowing she's right next to you. And that she's safe. And that one time was just one night and it doesn't mean it'll happen again.

Her hand on your hip moves until her hand reaches your bare back, and you hum in satisfaction, against her lips. The kisses get messier as you continue. At one point she goes through your bottom lip with her tongue, and you happily let her in. Your hands go to her hair, and she lets out a soft moan muffled by your mouth that has you wanting more. And suddenly, you make a sudden wrong move, and she whimpers, but in pain.

"Shit," you apologize quickly.

She lets her head on your shoulder and then her shoulders are shaking and you think she might be crying. But then you hear her laughter.

"You're so stupid," she mutters to your shoulder, letting both of her hands drop to your hips.

"You love me though," you say, as you stand up.

"Sadly, I do." She then exclaimed as you threw her shirt that was lying on the floor to her face, "Hey!"

"Take a shower or something," you said to her, organizing the stuff you used from the first aid kit.

"You'll join me, yeah?"

"You expect me to join you after you just called me stupid? Nuh-uh," you refute, putting the kit to where it was placed before. Then you walk closer to her, leaning down a little and giving her a peck on the lips, "I love you, too."

"Good to know," she says, jokingly. "Kidding. Love you."

There's another kiss, and then, "You should really take a shower, though. You stink."

"Oh, I do not!" She exclaims.

But after a shower, she smells her armpits and declares that maybe she needs to take another one.

[lildavesblog]

Pumpkin Carving | Kimi Antonelli

requested? : yes!! ‘Heyyy. I had an ideas for spooktober. soooo maybe kimi or ollie with the reader and they need to carve a pumpkin (for a prema video for example) and both of them are just really bad at it and keep goofing around. Just like a little drabble. Thank youu <3’

summary : when you and kimi are paired together to carve a pumpkin for a prema video, things get a little out of hand

disclaimers : second pov (you/your), implied driver!reader, google translated italian

word count : 0.8k

a/n : thank you for the request! I am so sorry for the long wait, but I really loved this idea!! had a lot of fun writing this one!

“Oh you guys picked a bad pairing,” you said as you looked out at the Prema marketing team, who were adjusting the lighting and messing with the settings on the camera. On the table in front of you were two small pumpkins and a few different knives and spoons to use to carve them.

“No, we’re going to do great,” the curly-haired boy spoke from beside you, gently nudging your shoulder. You turned your head, giving him a doubtful look, which only generated laughs from behind the camera.

“Okay, you can start whenever,” a female voice from behind the camera told you, and so you two quickly went through introducing yourselves and what you guys were doing.

You started with grabbing one of the tiny carving knives, and pulling the small pumpkin closer, trying to carve around the stem so you could empty the inside, but it was proving to be a bit difficult. You glanced over to see Kimi on the same step as you, struggling to get the knife through the pumpkin. At one point, as you had nearly gotten the top off, Kimi began trying a new tactic of repeatedly stabbing the top of the pumpkin.

“Oh my god,” you exclaimed, scooting your chair further away from him. “You are about to lose knife privileges,” you added, watching with wide eyes as he absolutely murdered the top of the pumpkin. He somehow was able to take the top off though, and then turned to you with a smirk.

“See? My idea worked,” Kimi said, before his eyebrows furrowed together seeing you had moved to the very end of the table. “What are you doing over there? You're going to be out of frame,” he said, laughing as he reached over and pulled your chair back to where it was before.

“I do not want to be this close to you,” you said with a laugh as well. Eventually you had been able to remove the top from your pumpkin, and then grabbed one of the wide plastic spoons to try to scoop the insides out.

“This is so gross,” you said, turning your head away from the pumpkin, both the sight and smell making your stomach churn. You tried to scoop out some of the seeds, but the second the slimy insides touched your hand you gave up, pulling your hand out with a very disgusted look on your face.

“It’s not that bad y/n,” Kimi said, having already emptied a good portion of his pumpkin.

“No, this is so bad,” you said, looking around the table for something to wipe your hand off with, but couldn’t find anything. You turned to Kimi, not really thinking twice before using the sleeve of his Mercedes shirt to wipe your hand on.

Kimi’s eyes widened as he turned to you, although a wide smile was on his face. “You did not just do that,” he said, a devious look in his eyes, which made you realize that was definitely a bad idea.

“Kimi- don’t you dare,” you began, but it was too late. He had already grabbed a small handful of the pumpkin seeds from his pumpkin and smeared it on the sleeve of your shirt.

Your mouth dropped, eyes wide as he nearly doubled over in laughter at your reaction. Despite how disgusting you thought the inside of the pumpkin was, it didn’t stop you from reaching your hand into your pumpkin, grabbing a handful of the squishy seeds, and returning the favor as you smeared it along the front of his shirt, hiding the Mercedes logo.

“Oh, it’s on,” Kimi said, a laugh falling from his lips as you jumped from your seat, laughing with him as you pushed your chair between the two of you. That didn’t stop him from gently throwing a handful of the pumpkin at you, which hit you in the stomach.

From behind the camera, the entire marketing team was absolutely dying with laughter.

“Okay, that’s it,” you whispered under your breath, once again grabbing a small handful of the slimy seeds. A large smile was on your lips, however, energetic laughter matching Kimi’s as you chased him around the table. You stopped, with him on one end, you on the other, and leaned over the table, reaching your hand up and ran it through his dark curls.

Simultaneously, Kimi had reached his hand up, which had gone unnoticed by you, and rubbed pumpkin across your cheek.

Both of your eyes widened, your contagious laughter falling silent, although the marketing team was still laughing. Your eyes met, and the split second of disbelief quickly broke away into large smiles.

“I cannot believe you just did that,” you said, holding your hands up. “Truce?” you quickly asked, as Kimi bent his head down, shaking some of the pumpkin from his hair.

“Truce, piccolo diavolo,” Kimi said, sending a playful glare your way as he made his way back around the table. translation : little devil

“You are unbelievable,” you said with a smile as you both sat down to try and finish the video, although the likelihood of that was pretty low.

requests are open! please send some in!

dividers by @/bernardsbendystraws

[foreverisntenough]

‘Movie Night’

Summary: If only life was like the movies. For years, you’d flirted with the idea of something more with Trent, your brother’s best friend.  You'd always danced around the edges of something more with him, sharing flirty moments that felt like scenes straight from the cinema. You had been silently desperate for the main character of your life’s film to finally get the boy but you knew moments like that were saved for Hollywood. The lines were clear; you were always going to be his mate’s little sister. So what happens when you go off script? In a whirlwind of passion, secrets, and stolen moments, you're left wondering: will you and your brother's best friend get the happy ending you've been waiting for, or was it never meant to be more than a fantasy? 

Index:

Warnings: This series is 18+ MDNI [ smut, slight mention of dv, loss of a parent, drinking - not sure what else really… if i miss anything please lmk!

Note: Thank you for reading! Please be sure to like, comment, or message me what you think of the series!

Chapter 5 - Together or Apart| ‘Movie Night'

word count - 10.7k

Since Trent had texted, casually inviting you over to watch a film, you’d been an absolute mess. You stood in front of your closet, staring at your options—were jeans too dressed up? That felt ridiculous to say but then again so often you found yourself in leggings or joggers around him. Your brain hurt from how many different thoughts were swirling in your head. Was this just an organized booty call, an easy fuck for him? Was this a date or were you just two people picking up right where you left off? Your mind spun, nerves flipping from excitement to anxiety. You finally settled on something comfortable with a little bit of a fitter top, trying to preserve the image you and Layla had so perfectly crafted. You wanted to find that balance between effortless and intentional so you wore a pair of cargo pants, easy but comfortable, a white tank top, and a pair of trainers Trent had complimented before.  

He told you he’d pick you up tonight at your house. It made you start to question even further what tonight meant. Was that a good thing or a bad thing… Him coming to pick you up was sweet but was it on purpose so there would be no trace of your car at his house? So when the time came and he told you he was out front, you hesitated. He offered to come up to the front door but somehow that felt like too much. Jack wasn’t home, but it still felt almost disrespectful for Trent to come up, to let him walk in knowing very well what could happen if he did. And then you remembered there were the security cameras. The last thing you needed was any suspicious footage. So, you slipped on your trainers and grabbed your bag and headed out. When you got into his car, you barely made it past the seatbelt click before the tension overwhelmed you both. The air felt thick, and before you knew it, you were leaning over the center console, fingers gripping onto his hair as his mouth met yours. His hands almost coaxing you to come sit on his lap, squeezing your thighs. It was intense, desperate, like you’d been holding back for far too long. Just as your hands moved their way down to the soft fabric of his shirt, headlights from a passing car in the neighborhood flooded the interior, snapping you back to reality. You pulled back suddenly, catching your breath, cheeks flushed.

“Okay, T…” You mumbled out of breath before Trent tried to pull you back in for more. “Okay…” You giggled. “Alright. We need to chill out,” you muttered, half laughing, half embarrassed at the lack of control. You shook your head, trying to gather yourself, but Trent just smirked, his eyes bright with mischief.

“Yeah, relax. Practice some self-control,” he teased, his voice dripping with sarcasm. You shot him a look, ready to protest, but he was already moving, turning on the engine of the car with one hand while the other reached for you, pulling you close again as he pressed a kiss to your temple. His voice dropped, barely a whisper. “You’re so easy to wind up. Gotta relax, pretty girl.” The warmth of his words, his teasing tone, it melted whatever composure you had left. Trent’s hand lingered on your leg as he drove, his thumb tracing circles, setting off tiny shocks that pulsed up your spine.

“I’m not much of a cook, so I ordered takeaway.” Trent told you once inside his house, you’d been at plenty of times before but right now it felt entirely new. He pulled up the order on his phone, tracking its progress as he leaned against the kitchen counter with a casual smirk. You nodded as you admired at just how unfairly pretty he seemed to look in any light; it never mattered how harsh or how soft; the kitchen’s overhead lighting proving to be no different. 

“It’s fine with me because I know you’re not much of a cook.” You teased as you folded your arms, raising an eyebrow. Trent rolled his eyes making you smile. “But can you even have this right now? You’re in season… Don’t they watch what you eat?” You asked him knowing his takeaway of choice was a Chinese.  Trent let out a low laugh, shrugging.

 “Yeah, technically. Call it a cheat day.  Just don’t tell the gaffer,” he teased, reaching out his pinky to you in a playful promise.

“A pinky promise?” you asked, arching an eyebrow as you hooked your pinky with his. But he held onto it, glancing down as he pressed a kiss to his own hand. His eyes lifted to meet yours with a mischievous gleam. 

“Yeah, a pinky promise is binding. Now, you’ve gotta kiss it too.” He told you. You hesitated, feeling a nervous flutter in your stomach. There was a soft challenge in his gaze, and the air between you went quiet. With a shy smile, you leaned in, brushing your lips over your own hand, barely touching but letting the tension linger. “That’s better.” His voice was soft, but a trace of amusement edged it. Then he smiled, looking down as if he was seeing you for the first time, something genuine and unguarded in his face. “Y’know, if you really want it to count, you gotta seal it with a proper kiss.” He cooed as he pulled you into his arms, a gentle but firm embrace that made you feel safe and somehow, more nervous all at once. He noticed. He could always read you like a book and right now it was no different. “What’s got you acting so shy?” he asked, chuckling as you hid your face against his chest. His heartbeat was steady, calming, but you still couldn’t shake the self-consciousness creeping over you.

“Stop,” you murmured, laughing against his shirt. “You’re making me nervous.” He tilted your chin up, thumb brushing over your cheek. 

“Why would I make you nervous, pretty girl?” he teased, his eyes dancing as they searched yours. “Only me.” He reminded you gently but it was just that… it was ‘only Trent.’ You and him alone. 

“It’s just… I don’t know,” you stammered, smiling at your own inability to explain.

“Y'know... We’ve already kissed tonight.” He reminded you with a smug smirk. 

“Yeah, but no… it’s–” You couldn’t formulate any valid reason. This was Trent. The Trent you knew so well, you knew so well that you knew he shouldn’t be having a Chinese tonight but also the one you knew so well you’d never want to eat his cooking either. And then the doorbell rang, saving you from digging any deeper into the feelings swirling inside you.

“Well” Trent said as he released you. “When you’re ready… whenever you want…you come kiss me.” He winked, sending you one last smile before heading to the door. When he returned with the food, he set out each container on the kitchen island, opening them one by one. He lifted the lid off a familiar dish, and you noticed instantaneously it was your favorite. Your heart skipped a beat, touched that he’d remembered something so small.

“You… you got my favorite?” you asked softly with a slight giggle, the question more to yourself. He looked up, catching the surprise in your eyes. You felt a bit guilty for acting so weird earlier because just as well as you knew him… he knew you. You’d almost forgotten that amongst your nerves. 

“Yeah,” he said, simply, like it was obvious. “I know what you like.” Something shifted in the air between you both, something that felt as heavy as it did easy. He went back to unboxing the food, his focus turning to unwrapping the utensils, but you couldn’t resist the urge to move closer to him. Coming around the island, you slid your arms around his waist, resting your head against his shoulder. He stilled for a moment, then softened into your touch, a quiet smile crossing his face. You giggled softly, feeling playful and carefree as you wrapped your arms around Trent's waist from behind. His warm, muscular body felt incredible against yours, as you began kissing his neck, leaving a trail of soft pecks and nibbles. Trent's reaction was immediate. He turned to face you swiftly, his hands grasping your waist and pulling you tightly against him. Your bodies collided, igniting a spark of electricity that sent shivers down your spine.

“Hey,” you murmured to grab his attention, gently tilting his face to meet yours, leaning in for a slow, tender kiss. This time, you let yourself linger, let your hands trail up to cup his face as he pulled you closer. You could feel his breath against your lips as he kissed you back, slower this time, savoring the moment. His hand slipped to the small of your back, holding you close. He whispered something soft against your lips, a quiet promise that you could feel even if you couldn’t hear it. You kissed him again slow… steady and sexy. 

“Wow…” He whispered with a pause. “Baby, I didn’t know you were gonna kiss me like that.” He smiled, unable to pull away too far from your lips.

“Should we eat now?” You asked with a teasing smirk, your lips ghosting over his, not really meaning your suggestion. 

“Nah, Shhh… Kiss me again, just like that.” He whispered, pulling you in again. Your lips meeting. The food, forgotten for the moment. His hand drifted up, brushing over your hair, tucking a strand behind your ear as he looked at you with a warmth that made you feel like the world had narrowed down to just the two of you. His fingers traced your jaw, lingering at your chin.  The scent of spices and fried rice filled the room, but neither of you seemed interested in food anymore. Your bodies were hungry for something else entirely.

"See… I told you I know what you like." Trent whispered, his breath hot against your ear. His hands roamed freely over your body, exploring your curves and driving you wild with desire.

"Maybe." you teased as he lifted you effortlessly, your legs wrapping around his waist as he placed you to the kitchen counter. The cold marble surface felt refreshing against your skin as he set you down, keeping you close to him, your boobs pressing against his hard chest as he held you close.

"I know you like being dirty for me, huh?" He mocking asked you before his lips claimed yours in a hungry kiss, your hands found their way under his shirt, eager to feel the smooth, defined muscles of his back. You pulled his shirt up, breaking the kiss momentarily to help him get it over his head. The sight of Trent's toned, tanned torso made your mouth water. He was a work of art, and you couldn't wait to explore every inch of him.His hands worked quickly, unhooking your bra with skilled fingers, freeing your full, perky tits, he’d told you he loved. He bent his head, taking a taut nipple into his mouth, and sucking gently, causing you to gasp and arch your back. His tongue teased and flicked, sending waves of pleasure through your body. With his free hand, he cupped your other boob, thumb rubbing the sensitive peak, making you moan softly. "You like when I play with you, don't you?" Trent murmured against your skin, his voice deep and husky. His hands moved downward, sliding off your trousers, revealing more of you. You lifted your hips to help him, eager for his touch. His fingers found the damp fabric of your panties, and he gently traced the outline of your pussy, making you squirm with anticipation. "That’s right, innit? He asked again and you whimpered

"Please, Trent," you whined, your voice hoarse with need. "I want you." Trent chuckled, the sound sending a thrill through you. 

"Oh, I know you do, baby. And I want you too. I’m fucking starving." He smirked moving a container of food that was a little too close to you both. He was hungry for anything but that right now. With that, he slid his fingers under the lace of your panties, finding your wetness and dipping a finger inside. You were already so aroused, and his touch sending you over the edge. You moaned loudly, your head falling back as your body surrendered to the pleasure.

“Baby. that’s…fuck..that’s so good.” Your squeezed your eyes shut tightly feeling a pleasure only Trent had ever given you course through your body. His cock twitched at your breathy moans and whimpers. He tugged at your lower lip with his teeth as he worked his magic, his fingers moving in and out, adding a second finger to stretch and fill you. When he dipped another finger into your wet heat, he pulled another deep moan from you and in an attempt to push you closer to the edge, he curled his fingers even further against that one spot and pressed his thumb against your clit harder. Your hands gripped the edge of the counter, your knuckles turning shades lighter as you rode his hand, seeking release. “Please keep going, T, I’m so close, I’m-fuck.” You whined his name, juices dripping down your legs and his hand, tears forming on your lash lines from the stimulation. 

"That's it. Good girl." Trent encouraged, his breath hot on your neck as he nibbled on your sensitive skin. “Fuck yourself on my fingers.” He commanded. You couldn’t stop yourself. He curled them further inside, finding your g spot fast, refusing to let up. You rode his fingers, your moans only getting louder as the harsh circles around your clit intensified. You let out a soft cry as you rocked your hips onto his hand.  "Cum for me, let me feel you." His words pushed you further, and with a final, desperate thrust of his fingers, you climaxed. Your body shook, and a wave of pleasure washed over you, leaving you breathless and boneless. Trent held you gently, his fingers still inside you, as the aftershocks rippled through your body. Carefully and gently he lifted you off the counter, his strong arms making you feel weightless. You giggled, slightly delicious from your high,  but feeling playful and free as he carried you to the living room, your legs dangling, brushing against his hard thighs.  He laid you gently on to the couch, handling you delicately but his eyes burning with desire as he gazed down at you. You reached up for him, wanting to feel his naked skin against yours. Trent obliged, quickly shedding his clothes, revealing his chiseled physique. Your eyes traced the lines of his body, lingering on his thick, erect cock, standing proudly between his legs.

"I want you inside me, T," you whispered, your voice laced with longing. He climbed on to the massive sofa, his body covering yours, his hands pinning your wrists above your head. 

"You want it bad, huh, baby?" he teased, his lips brushing against yours.  You nodded, your eyes pleading. Trent's lips claimed yours in a hungry kiss, his tongue dancing with yours as he ground his hips against you, his cock rubbing against your wetness, teasing you. You whimpered, desperate for him to fill you.

"Please, baby, " you begged, your breath coming in short gasps. "Fuck me. Please I promise I’ll be a good girl again for you, T." You whined. Trent smirked not mockingly, just almost euphoric like he couldn’t believe that his dream of having you beg for his cock was happening in real time. And so, Trent happily obliged, positioning himself at your entrance. With one smooth thrust, he slid deep inside you, filling you completely. You cried out, your body adjusting to his size, embracing the stretch and fullness. When you gave him the go ahead, he began to move, his hips snapping forward, driving into you with a pace that had you crying out with each stroke. 

"Yeah, that's it, take my cock." he grunted, his voice rough with desire.The sounds were pornographic. “There she is. Such a good girl. You love my cock, don't you?" He asked you. You lifted your leg up for him to throw it over his shoulder fucking you at a new angle harder, deeper.  

“It’s so fucking good. Fuck! — Fuck you feel so big.” You babbled lost in the throes of pleasure. Trent fucked you with a primal intensity, his hands gripping your hips rasing them slightly, leaving marks on your skin. He was fucking you stupid, your mind had gone completely blank, your vision blurred. After you changed the angle, lifting one of your legs, it caused you to bite down harshly on his shoulder. He moaned in pleasurable pain. His whole length repeatedly hitting your g spot, sending you both into a blissful haze. He was leant forward, his mouth finding your nipple, sucking and biting gently as he thrust, creating a symphony of sensations that drove you wild.

"You're squeezing me so tight, baby," he groaned, his breath hot against your neck. "Want me to make you cum again, pretty girl?" He asked but all you could do was nod desperately, your chest heaving.  He reached between your bodies, his fingers finding your clit, rubbing and circling the sensitive bundle of nerves. The combination of his cock pounding into you and his skilled fingers was too much to bear. You arched your back, offering yourself to him, your body ready to explode.

"Yeah– shit! T, right there!" you cried out, your voice high and desperate. He increased the pace, his fingers working in sync with his thrusts. You climaxed with a force that surprised even yourself, your body trembling and legs shaking as wave after wave of pleasure washed over you. 

“Fuck, you’re my good girl, baby.” He hummed, his breathing getting heavier by the second. His cock was soaked in your slick as he rolled his hips roughly into you.  “Fuck!” He cried out. “Baby I gotta cum.” He was at his limit desperate to release. You could only nod again Your own high still continuing to roll on. His harsh movements came to a halt as he buried himself deeper inside you. “Ah Shit.” Trent grunted, his body stiffening as he came, filling you with his warmth, his throbbing cock pulsing inside you. Pumping you full with his cum while pressing his lips to yours. You both laid into each other's sweaty bodies, foreheads resting on the other.  Gasping for breath, you clung to each other, your hearts racing. Trent gently kissed your neck, his hands stroking your skin, providing comfort and reassurance. You reveled in the intimacy of the moment, feeling utterly satisfied and exhausted. “You okay, baby?” He whispered. You could only hum, your face hidden in the crook of his neck. You kissed at his skin lazily. “You sure? Was I too rough?” Trent nervously and quietly asked. Trent didn’t want to hurt you. He had protected you for years. The thing was now… things were different. Really different. If Trent was ever rough with girls before in bed he usually didn’t care too much but he had always taken care of you and it only amplified now.  Obviously it would never be the goal to hurt someone but with sex like that, rough sex like that… with you... he needed to make sure you were okay.

“I’m okay, T. Just tied from all that.” You giggled sleepily, your voice barely audible. You gave him a soft smile, tucking your head back against his shoulder as you nuzzled into him. You could feel him smile as he held you closer. The two of you laid there, wrapped in each other, forgetting everything else just for the moment. But once you realized almost over an hour had passed since the food arrived, though neither of you had paid much attention to it, you definitely were hungry now post workout… or well… post sex. Trent got up, making sure you were okay, cleaned up and all set on the sofa as he popped off back to the kitchen to reheat the food and bring it back for you two to finally eat. Now sprawled comfortably on the couch, a mess of takeout containers scattered around, both of you too wrapped up in each other to worry about making it neat. Wrapped only in blankets, clothes long forgotten, and each other, there was something thrillingly raw and uninhibited about the whole scene.

You watched on as Trent struggled with his chopsticks, holding them awkwardly and missing the noodles each time. 

“You’ve been shit at that for years. Literally zero improvement.” You held out a fork for him with a grin. You couldn’t help but laugh, playfully teasing him. But he shook his head stubbornly. 

“Nah, nah, I’m not that bad. These noodles are just slippery, and—” he rambled, an adorable frustration flashing across his face. He pouted a little, and you chuckled, leaning in to kiss him, wiping away his frown. 

“It’s cute, you know,” you said, running your hand over his thigh. The bashful way he looked down, as if trying to hide his little smile, only made him more endearing. He looked back up at you, his eyes twinkling with a smirk. Trent loved to be praised even if it was just for simply existing. And he was as cute as you said; his pouty lips and puppy dog eyes staring back at you pretending he didn’t know he was. Until his cheeky charm came roaring back. 

“Yeah, well, I’m cute what can I say; it’s a redeeming quality of mine. You’re almost as cute as me… depends on the day,” he shot back with a wink, his grin widening. You laughed, your heart flipping at his boyish charm. The way he blended playfulness with this gentle confidence was one of the things you loved most. Sitting there, eating together, feeling this giddy warmth bloom between you, you couldn’t remember the last time you’d felt so effortlessly at ease. The two of you lounged together, tangled up in the cozy mess of blankets and takeout containers, laughing at the smallest things. It was pure, unguarded comfort, and you hadn’t realized how much you’d longed for this feeling until now—just being with someone, laughing until it hurt, without any pretense. Trent’s chopsticks continued to wobble in his hand as he tried again, narrowing his eyes in concentration. He was treating it like a personal challenge, refusing to let some noodles get the best of him, his brow furrowed like he was plotting out strategy. You stifled another laugh, and he caught it, glancing up with a mock-offended look. “Aye! I’m not that bad!” he protested, dropping the chopsticks with a defeated sigh and reaching for a fork instead. You snickered, resting your head on his shoulder as you passed him the fork with a knowing look.

“Maybe I’m just better with the chopsticks,” you teased. He let out an exaggerated scoff, rolling his eyes. 

“Better at what? Eating?  Doubtful,” he said, leaning over to nudge you. But there was a softness to his gaze, an unspoken admiration as he looked down at you. “Even if you are better at some things,” he added, trailing off, his voice dropping to a murmur. You tried not to look surprised but you weren’t sure you’d ever heard Trent actually concede, not even halfway like that. “I’m better at a few things, too.” He added in true Trent fashion. 

“Oh, yeah? Name one,” you challenged, grinning as you tilted your head up at him. You knew just how to get Trent to bite. With a playful smirk, he leaned closer until his face was just inches from yours. 

“This,” he whispered, before his lips captured yours in a deep, slow kiss that made you melt. It wasn’t rushed or hungry; it was patient and full of warmth, as if he had all the time in the world to savor you. When he pulled back, his eyes scanned over your face as if to commit every detail to memory. There was an unmistakable pride there, like he knew the effect he had on you. “See?” he said softly, still holding your gaze. “Told you I’m better at some things.” You blushed, laughing as you wrapped your arms around him. 

“Alright, alright. You’re a good kisser but don’t act like I’m bad or something.” You giggled, laying your head on his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat.

“Nah, course not. You’re world class as well, baby.” He cooed gently, kissing your forehead.  For a while, you both just sat in silence, content. He absentmindedly played with your hair, occasionally twirling a strand around his finger. At one point, you looked up, catching him staring at you again, his expression soft, as though he were seeing you for the first time. 

“What?” you asked, your voice barely a whisper. He shook his head, his fingers grazing your cheek as he spoke.

 “Nothing. Just… I don’t think I’ve ever seen you like this.” He smiled softly, his eyes filled with warmth.

“Like what?” you asked, genuinely curious.

“Like… relaxed,” You raised your brow trying not to be offended. He laughed lightly. “Nah, hold on…” He could sense your offense. “ I meant you just seem calm right now. Just before…even with me, it always had to be rushed, it always had to be sneaky and right now… you just look happy.” He said, his voice full of a warmth that melted right into you. He brushed his thumb over your cheek, smiling gently. “I like it. A lot.”

“Are you trying to say you make me happy?” You questioned a little mockingly. He hummed with assurance. You felt your heart flutter, something in his eyes settling deep within you. “Well, you’re right…You do. And I hope I do that for you too… at least a little bit,” you whispered back, a soft smile spreading across your face as you nestled closer to him.

“Yeah, pretty girl. A lot of bit.” he cooed, leaning to peck the tip of your nose. “You always have but this… this right here is better than ever before.” He softly whispered. In that moment, everything else faded—the worries, the risks, even the questions of what you both were doing or where this would go. For now, this was enough. Just you, him, and the quiet intimacy that filled the room. You sat there for a long while rattling between eating, kissing, and watching TV. “We should do this more “Trent said as he moved on the couch putting his food down. 

“T, we eat dinner and watch films like every other week” you smiled. You did. You ate dinner probably once a week together except… well, Jack was also there. 

“You know that’s not what I meant.” He feigned annoyance pulling you into him.  “But nah, I don't mean those nights because I rarely get to have my hands on you like this. Hmm?” He clarified. 

“Yeah,” you sighed at the reality but also agreeing, loving the current warmth of him. 

“Yeah? And you like when my hands are on you, right?” He cooed and you hummed. “I know just what you like, baby.” He leaned in, his lips barely brushing yours, and you felt the familiar flutter in your chest, the way just his presence seemed to pull you in. He could feel the way your body melted. "See?" he whispered, his voice laced with that playful edge. "I know exactly what you like." You giggled, trying to play it off, but there was no denying how much you did like this, how every small touch felt electric. 

"Confident, aren't we?" you teased, resting your hand on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your fingertips. He grinned, his fingers tracing lazy circles on your lower back. 

"Yeah. You love it when I'm like this," he smirked, leaning back, but pulling you down with him until you were nestled against him on the couch, his hands holding you close. You hummed because it wasn’t when he was like ‘this.’ ‘This’ was just Trent. Confident and cheeky. And getting to have this Trent all to yourself with no prying eyes was a dream. You couldn't help but smile, feeling his warmth and the gentle way he was looking at you, the humor gone from his expression, replaced with something softer, something that felt more than just casual. You bit your lip, unable to hold his gaze for too long, and he just chuckled, tilting your chin up so you'd meet his eyes again. "I meant it," he said, his voice low and earnest. "We really should do this more." There was a pause, and in that brief silence, you felt the weight of what he was saying. It wasn't just about tonight, or even the past few times you'd been together. It was about something more, something you hadn't really let yourself think about until now.

"Maybe we could," you said softly, feeling your face warm as you looked down, only to feel his fingers tilting your chin back up, his eyes softening as he watched you.

"Yeah?" he murmured, his hand slipping up to cradle the back of your neck. "Then maybe it's not just up to me, is it?" He smirked. And with that, he leaned in, capturing your lips in a slow, deep kiss that seemed to say all the things you both were afraid to.

After clearing up the remnants of your Chinese takeaway, you stood in the kitchen, stacking the last of the plates in the dishwasher. Trent followed closely behind, observing you with a smirk on his lips. His gaze was warm, his eyes dancing with a familiar playfulness that always made your heart flutter.

“Wow,” he teased, leaning against the counter with his arms crossed and a mischievous look in his eyes. “Look at you. Really are wifey, innit?” You glanced over your shoulder at him, rolling your eyes at his comment.

“Oh, shut up,” you retorted, but the smile tugging at your lips gave away your amusement. You couldn’t help but feel a rush of warmth at the playful compliment, even if you tried to act unbothered. Trent didn’t let up, stepping forward with that grin still plastered on his face. 

“Nah, I mean it,” he said, his voice softening slightly as he drew closer. “I’ve always known you’re good with all this stuff. The little things. The considerate things. Things other people overlook.”  You felt a warmth spread through you at his sincerity, and you turned to face him fully, drying your hands on a towel, leaning your back against the island across from him as you looked up at him.

“Yeah?” you asked, tilting your head, a playful lilt in your voice. Trent’s expression softened further, the humor still present but tinged with something more tender. “You’ve clearly never lived with Jack and my dad.” You cooed, reminding him that this consideration was more survival and necessity than anything else. Trent sympathetically smiled realizing there was something much deeper behind why you took care of things the way you did. 

“Nah.Y/N, look. I'm not talking about that. I mean I am but I'm not. I don’t want to talk about... them guys,” he continued, referring to past relationships,  his voice growing serious for a moment, “because they don’t deserve the breath, but all those other lads? They were fucking idiots for losing a girl like you.” Your heart skipped a beat at his words, and you couldn’t help but tease him, trying to keep the moment light even though his sincerity made your chest ache. All of it, the hurt of your past and how easily he seemed to salve it. 

“Oh, really?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. “And why exactly is that?” You asked, raising an eyebrow.  “Because I’m so great at, what, doing the dishes?” You teased. Trent sighed but then let out a deep chuckle realizing maybe this wasn't the time for his serious compliment. And so his laughter echoing the kitchen making you smile. 

“Nah,” he said, stepping even closer and reaching out to pull you by the waist. You squirmed as he picked you up, dragging you back to the living room, only your combined laughter filling the space momentarily. He tugged you down onto the couch with him. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you tight and pressing a flurry of silly, cheeky kisses all over your face, making you giggle more. “No, baby,” he murmured between kisses, “because you’re kind, and thoughtful, and beautiful, and even with your flaws, you’re still perfect.” he listed, his hands sliding up your sides, pulling your top up with them as he spoke. You pulled back just slightly, eyeing him with suspicion. 

“Flaws?” you questioned, your tone light with mock offense. He giggled, a true cheeky Trent giggle as he picked up the TV remote from the armrest beside him. “Excuse me?” You leaned into his touch, a teasing smile spreading across your face. He smiled deviously, taking the opportunity to snake one of his arms around you completely and pull you tightly into him, his other hand navigating what was on the telly.

“Yeah,” he said, a grin spreading across his face. “Like, for one, you’re not very good at watching films. You talk a lot during them. You yap more than me and that says a lot.” He smirked cheekily. You gasped, playfully shoving him away but not really going anywhere because his arm stayed wrapped around you

“Oh, okay. Really? I see,” you said, leaning into the banter. “Seems like you watch a lot of films with someone you think is bad to watch with.” You fired back, your voice full of mock indignation. Trent’s eyes softened, and he smiled, leaning in to kiss your temple, his lips lingering there for a moment.

“Nah, nah, nah,” he laughed, leaning his forehead against yours, his eyes crinkling at the corners from how wide his smile had become. “I said you’re bad at watching them. But you’re the best to watch with. My favorite to watch with, actually.” He corrected softly, his voice a murmur as he brushed his nose against yours before pulling you into a comfortable cuddle. You felt your heart skip at his words, and you nuzzled closer, the warmth of his embrace wrapping around you, your hands moving to rest on his chest. 

“Well, I guess that makes it okay, then,” you whispered, a smile spreading across your face as you settled into him, feeling perfectly content. “You’re really good at this whole sweet-talking thing, aren’t you?” you whispered, your voice teasing but your eyes full of affection. He pulled you closer, his lips brushing your temple again before pressing a kiss there, lingering for a moment.

“I’m not sweet-talking, pretty girl” he murmured against your skin. “I mean it… You don’t shut up….” Your jaw slacked. “ And I love it.” He told you, shutting your mouth closed with his hand and kissing your lips. The two of you stayed like that for a moment, wrapped in each other’s arms in the warmth of the room. You nestled your head against his chest, feeling his heartbeat steady and strong. He kissed the top of your head, and you closed your eyes, letting yourself sink into the feeling. “Alright,” he announced, his voice full of playful determination. “Movie time.”

“A movie? Really? After you just insulted my film-watching abilities?” You raised an eyebrow, laughing. He grinned. 

“Exactly,” he said, pulling you down beside him. “I invited you over for a film and I was thinking.... maybe I can keep your lips busy.” He cheekily cooed with a wink. The innuendo had your mind racing, your heart pumping and your pussy pulsing.  

“Maybe we should find the list of the top 100 most boring movies.” You suggested. Suddenly you could feel the tides turning again. The sexual tension in the room rising fast.

“Why?” Trent naively asked almost instinctively forgetting the direction he was just forging but then quickly remembered what you were insinuating. He laughed at himself. His desire for you very quickly out ranking that for any movie.

“I mean, maybe that’s why I’m no good at this whole watching films thing. I think I just love a movie that can't hold my attention… besides, usually someone else has it.” You smirked. Your hand moving to run over his thigh, moving higher and higher up. 

“Fair, baby. Because we’ve watched some classics together and I barely remember a thing. Got me more locked in on you.” He cooed, the warmth of your subtle compliment lingering. You giggled nuzzling into his neck, your lips nibbling on his skin, your hand inching higher.

“Guess I should be flattered then, huh? Competing with the classics is no small feat,” you teased, but inside, you felt the excitement, horniness and a hint of vulnerability. He pulled your face off his neck and  brushed a strand of hair from your face, his gaze soft. 

“You’re much better than any movie.” He paused, as if choosing his words carefully, his thumb grazing your cheek. “...Honest.” You swallowed, taken off guard by how sincere he sounded. The easy sexy  banter had faded momentarily, leaving something quiet, something that felt new and serious. 

“Trent,” you whispered, your voice catching slightly.

“Yeah, pretty girl?” he asked, smiling as he tried to read your expression, a hint of nervousness flashing in his eyes. You shifted, heart racing as you tried to find the right words. 

“I just… I like….” You paused , almost afraid to look at him, trying to decide how open you should be, how vulnerable you should be or if you should just throw reality to the wind and let your hormones continue taking over. You went with neither. “I like watching movies with you.” You admitted, but it wasn’t really what you wanted to say. When you met his gaze you felt like you saw the same openness you were feeling retreat, just as yours did. He didn’t hesitate though, pulling you closer, his arms wrapping around you.

“Me too.” He grinned, his tone lightening just enough to make you smile again. “How about we pick a movie that’ll actually let us watch for, like, let’s give ten minutes a go. Tops.” He smirked at you, placing his hand over yours moving it back to palm over his hardening cock.  You laughed, your face falling back into his neck, your lips returning to kiss his skin. 

“Deal,” you whispered, feeling perfectly at home in his arms and perfectly turned on to do a little more than watch a movie.

You sat on the edge of your bed, phone clutched in your hand, staring at the last message you’d sent Trent hours ago. He hadn’t replied, which was fine, you reminded yourself. He had an away game tomorrow, he was busy, and maybe this thing—whatever it was—wasn’t supposed to mean much to him. He’d said things recent enough, especially that night at his house where maybe you thought it did but then again… you tried to remind yourself, he was only a boy at the end of the day, he very well could be just like all the others. You’d been replaying the moments you’d spent together, but maybe, you worried, it had all been just a casual distraction to him. People can pretend for sex, why couldn’t he do the same. The texts and playful emojis were fun, but what if he was just passing the time? Your texting had ramped up a lot especially when he was away. There were a lot of winks, innuendos, emojis but were you simply a way for him to occupy time whilst he was on the road? That maybe it didn’t matter that it was you specifically, but that it very well could just be any girl. You actually had started to feel like an idiot expecting a message tonight. You were about to just feel defeated going to bed without a text from him. You sighed, telling yourself to let it go as you flicked off the lights and crawled into bed, the silence feeling heavier than usual. You closed your eyes, settling into the pillow, just about to drift off when your phone buzzed. The screen lit up, and you glanced at it, expecting a notification—but no, it was a FaceTime call. And it was Trent. Your heart skipped, fumbling to answer as you propped yourself up, pulling your shirt down a bit just for him. 

“Hi,” you said, hoping he didn’t hear the hint of nerves in your voice. Trent’s face filled the screen, his eyes tired but a warm smile spreading across his face. 

“Sorry for the late call. Just thought…  Well, I wanted to see you. You alright, pretty girl?” He cooed. You couldn’t pick up on it but he was as nervous as you were.  His words more jumbled than normal. You bit your lip, surprised but touched by the call.

“I’m… I’m good. Just getting ready for bed. You?” You asked. He nodded, running a hand over his hair, his smile softening. 

“Yeah, about to have a quick shower and get a some sleep too. Long day. Fucking knackered” He paused, his gaze steady on you, and something in his expression made you feel seen. “But I was thinking about you.” His words made your heart race, and you couldn’t hide the smile that crept onto your face. 

“Oh yeah? Or just bored in some random hotel?” You questioned him, a slight crack at the question that had been gnawing at you.  He chuckled, shaking his head. 

“Nah, just about you alone. Trust me. Was wondering what you might've been up to without me. ” He leaned a bit closer, as though he wanted to close the distance between you through the screen. “I miss you. More than I thought I could.” Hearing that sent a warmth through you that made all the doubts melt away. 

“I miss you too, T” you admitted softly, feeling a rush of relief that maybe, just maybe, this wasn’t all in your head. Trent’s grin widened, his eyes lighting up. 

“Then maybe when I get back… we don’t do the whole ‘pretend we didn’t’ yeah?” He smirked. You laughed, feeling a sense of peace wash over you as you nodded. 

“Yeah, I think I’d like that because I really do miss you.” You shook your head feeling both embarrassed by how much you did miss him and silly for the way you felt earlier about him not replying to a simple text when he was saying all this.

“Baby, quick question for you.” He said and you couldn’t stop the smile from forming on your face at the pet name returning. “You have snap right?” He said it so casually that you let out a shocked chuckle. He was talking about snapchat and while you did... you weren't sure you were even friends on it because well... it felt like dangerous territory.

“What…are you sixteen? Like what are you on about?” You laughed at him. You were on Facetime in bed right now. What in god's name did he want to know that for. 

“Nah…” He laughed mildly embarrassed by your call out. Understanding it merited your teasing. “I just meant I’d like it if I could see a little more of you when I don’t have the privacy to call. Y’know?” He explained. A part of you hated this conversation and a part of you loved it. You wanted him to see more of you but you were also a little confused. You’d had a similar conversation before and it resulted in a photo of you sent directly to him. 

“Oh… I mean I can send anything you want just over texts…”  You told him feigning a casualness you didn’t feel. You’d sent a photo to him before so you weren’t sure why he wanted to move the convo elsewhere. It was hard not to overthink it. It felt so suspicious but you weren’t entirely against sending him any more photos to him if it meant you got some in return. But the question ‘why’ was screaming in your head. 

“You understand what I’m actually asking for right, baby?” He chuckled, not at you but because he just felt silly asking this. “I just don’t want you to feel…” He began to explain further but you cut him off. In Trent's mind, he just wanted another access point. His schedule was so busy he liked the idea of being able to have a space for just the spicier things especially considering Jack but you weren't thinking that way and you didn't know that either because you just interrupted him.

“T… I know what you’re asking. I’ll send photos to you.” You smirked mischievously. You were hellbent on getting him to see you as a sexy woman not as a best friend’s little sister so in your opinion this was going to have to be happen, if you wanted to further that.  

“Alright, alright, baby. Send as you please.” He laughed pretty happy with your willingness to send him photos. You just were debating just how revealing they should be though. On Trent’s end, he wanted full nudes, he wanted to see the body he was claiming as his back at home while he was away. To be blunt he wanted to get off to them but just didn’t want you to feel overly exposed sending them through text, logged into your apple ids but there was a disconnect. You were not on the same page apparently even though you thought you were.  After you ended the call you decided to give it a go. You sat up, perching yourself onto your knees, your ass rested back on your heels so you could see your figure in the mirror across from your bed. You were just in your panties and a little tight white t-shirt, no bra. You could see the shape of your tits, your taut stomach exposed as you pulled on your lip with your free hand. And snap. You took a deep breath, looking at the photo you’d just taken. It was intimate, sultry, exactly the kind of picture that would send Trent’s heart racing—or so you hoped. But just as you were about to hit send, a flicker of doubt crept in. Was he only asking for these pictures initially on Snapchat because he didn’t want them saved, was he with or seeing other people he was worried might see them if they were texted. Hence you decided to opt to be partially clothed for this first go around. As close as you felt to him, it was hard not to wonder sometimes if you were just another distraction. He was a guy who could have anyone, and the idea that he could be keeping things casual with you was a thought you couldn’t shake. Yet you didn’t want to question him, not now, when things were finally feeling like they could be real. With a bit of resolve, you hit send anyway, your heart pounding in anticipation. Just as you set your phone down, another thought crept in. Maybe this was all about building trust. Maybe he wanted you to feel in control of whatever you chose to share. Never did the idea of Trent protecting you from Jack ever by chance picking up his phone cross your mind. The whole night replayed in your head—the warmth in his eyes on FaceTime, the way he’d reassured you, and how he’d seemed genuinely interested in closing the distance between you both. Moments later, your phone vibrated, and a message from Trent popped up. It wasn’t just a text back; it was a picture of him in the mirror, his smile a little sleepy, he’d just gotten out of the shower in his hotel room, towel low around his waist, water droplets still on his chest, the soft glint in his eyes unmistakably meant for you.

He teased You let out a small laugh, feeling the doubts ease away. Whatever this was between you both, it was beginning to feel like more than a fleeting fling.And with a quiet goodnight, he left you with a smile and a heart racing for the next time you’d see him in person.

Trent’s travels continued on. One country to the next.  But as he lay sprawled on the hotel bed, his muscles aching from a training session ahead of his match earlier in the evening, the hotel room modern and immaculate, it felt sterile, stripped of any warmth or comfort that reminded him of home. His teammates’ laughter echoed faintly down the hall, probably from someone’s room where the guys had gathered to relax and unwind. Yet, he couldn’t bring himself to join them. His thoughts were somewhere else—somewhere warmer and more inviting, somewhere that smelled like your favorite perfume and where laughter felt more genuine. He had learned over time how to manage the loneliness of travel. Football had always demanded sacrifices, and he’d made peace with them. But now, with you, the loneliness felt different, more acute. Before, he never thought twice about how many nights he spent in hotel rooms, but now, every night away felt like a night stolen from you. He rubbed his eyes, trying to shake the unease that had settled in his chest, and then grabbed his phone again, the screen lighting up with notifications. None were from you, which he realized he’d been hoping for.

He rolled onto his side, staring at a picture of you he’d taken ages ago, one you probably didn't even know existed. You were laughing in it, your head thrown back, organically beautiful, eyes lit up with mischief. It was one of those candid shots that perfectly captured your spirit, and he found himself smiling, feeling an ache at the thought of not being able to hear that laugh right now. His thumb hovered over your name in his messages, and he opened your last conversation, reading over your words, feeling closer to you through the little emojis and teasing exchanges. He didn’t want to seem needy or like he was fishing for your attention, but the urge to reach out was overwhelming. He started typing a text, deleting it twice before settling on something simple; ‘Thinking about you. Hope you’re doing okay. Miss you.’ He almost sent it but stopped himself, taking a moment to let out a heavy sigh. It felt unfair to burden you with how much he missed you when he couldn’t be there. It wasn’t that he didn’t think you felt the same, but he knew how unfair this situation could be. You deserved better than waiting for stolen moments or living with the anxiety that came from constantly hiding what you were from everyone else, hiding what you might be from Jack. He put the phone down, leaning back on the pillow, and tried to shake the self-doubt creeping in. Were you getting tired of this? Of him being gone? Of him not really being yours? He couldn’t imagine a world where he didn’t want to see you, where he didn’t crave your company. It wasn’t lost on him that football had pulled him away from so much over the years, but this was the first time he genuinely worried about it taking something he desperately wanted to keep. You were putting so much at risk for him with Jack and it all started to feel more wrong than ever. 

Even during his limited downtime, his mind would drift to you: your laugh, the way you’d tease him, the gentle comfort of your presence. And now, knowing that the busiest stretch of his season was right around the corner, the thought of being even more unavailable left a bitter taste in his mouth. He wanted to make you feel special, to let you know he was thinking about you in a way that wasn’t about flashy gifts or hurried, late-night hookups. No, he wanted you to understand that he cared deeply, beyond the physical or superficial. He propped himself up on one elbow, the crisp hotel sheets rustling beneath him, and grabbed his phone once more, his mind racing with possibilities. As he opened his notes app, he began to brainstorm. He knew he couldn’t make grand, public gestures without risking exposure, and he didn’t want to just throw money at a problem that required a more thoughtful touch. He started typing ideas, his mind focusing on the small things, the meaningful things. The list in his notes app glared back at him. He glanced over the suggestions, his heart softening. Even with all his fame and money, he was nervous about something so simple as making you feel loved. How did you make him feel like a nervous schoolboy again, chasing after someone he wanted so badly to impress? He felt almost ridiculous trying to impress his best mate's little sister but you were much more than that. He chuckled softly to himself, a mix of embarrassment and adoration flooding him.

He tried to envision the letter he’d write if he went with that idea, picturing himself scribbling down every reason he liked you, every little thing that made him smile. Maybe he’d tuck it into your favorite book, so you’d stumble upon it by surprise. Or he imagined what the picnic could be like, bundling you both up in warm clothes and spreading out a feast of all your favorite comfort foods, just to hear you laugh about how out of season it was. And that thought—that image of you laughing, cheeks flushed from the cold but warm in his embrace—was enough to make him pick up his phone again.He didn’t know how he’d make it happen, but he’d figure it out. Because that’s what you did when you cared about someone: you made the effort, even when it felt impossible. Trent took a deep breath, feeling a bit more settled. He pressed send on his message before he could second-guess himself again and set his phone aside. His chest still ached, but he let himself imagine the look on your face when you finally received whatever small, meaningful gesture he’d dream up. Even if he couldn’t be there physically, he wanted you to feel his presence, to know that, no matter the distance, you were always on his mind. And as he lay there, the room still feeling cold and empty, his heart felt a little warmer, filled with a quiet resolve.

Trent was right, you did feel like his schedule was always busy. It was hard for you to understand lately. Before, as your brother's best friend it never really affected you but now… you found yourself missing him. And while you did, every time you wanted to tell him just that... you'd chicken out. You’d be lying if you said your heart hadn’t leapt when you received another text from him once you knew he was back home. It had been days since you’d last seen him, and even though you told yourself you were getting used to the rhythm of his busy life, the truth was you missed him—maybe more than you wanted to admit. The message was short, casual, but it made your palms sweat with anticipation but also your brow furrow with confusion.

Of course you agreed but the vagueness made you nervous. And in addition to those words, you didn't like to drive all that much. It just gave you a bit of anxiety but you'd do it to see him. When you pulled up in front of his house, the evening sky was tinged with hues of orange and deep purple, the last rays of sun casting shadows across the quiet street. Trent stepped out and your chest tightened at the sight of him. He looked tired but happy, his smile lighting up his face as he walked over to the passenger side of your car. He climbed in and immediately shot you a teasing look. 

“Wow,” he said, running his hand over the dashboard, “Pretty girl, pretty whip. Look at you. Who knew you had such good taste in cars.” There was a playful glint in his eye, and you couldn’t help but smile. You let out a laugh, rolling your eyes at his antics. 

“Okay, okay, I’ve said thank you a million times,” you replied, feigning exasperation. “Do you want me to say it again?” He laughed, leaning back into the seat of the Mercedes he had once gifted you for your birthday.

“Nah, I’m just giving you a hard time. It’s good seeing you behind the wheel, though. Rarely see you even drive. Was beginning to think you didn’t like it.” He smirked.

“I do! You know I just get nervous driving.” You pouted a little feeling anxious about actually driving.  

“That’s why I got you a safe car though, baby. You’re all good. Promise.” He cooed gently, leaning over and kissing your temple, feeling the familiar warmth spreading through you from his presence alone. His words reassuring. The air between you grew heavier for a split second, the implication of his words making your stomach flutter. But you quickly brushed it off, gripping the wheel a little tighter to steady yourself. You couldn’t help the smile tugging at your lips as you pulled out of his driveway.

“So, what’s the plan?” you asked, trying to sound casual but genuinely curious. “Why did you need me to drive?” Trent adjusted his hoodie, looking out the window as if gathering his thoughts. 

“I wanted to go somewhere,” he said, turning to face you. “Somewhere a bit more low-key. Didn’t want to attract too much attention, you know?” You raised an eyebrow, your curiosity piqued.

 “Somewhere, huh? You’re pretty mysterious.” You cheekily teased.  He laughed softly, his eyes crinkling at the corners. 

“Nah, shush. You’ll see,” he promised, the hint of a secret in his voice. “Just trust me.” And so you drove on, the city passing by, the quiet hum of the car adding to the suspense. Trent didn’t give anything away, and that made you all the more eager to find out what he had in store. But deep down, just being near him, feeling the warmth of his presence after days apart, felt like more than enough. Trent had typed the address into your car’s navigation system, and as the map adjusted, you tried to steal a peek, your curiosity piqued. He shot you a mischievous grin, blocking your view with his hand. “Aye! No peeking,” he said, his tone playful. You rolled your eyes, fixing them back on the road, but a smile pulled at your lips despite the frustration you felt, knowing he always enjoyed these little games. When you finally pulled up to the park, you recognized it instantly: the worn-out playground, the rustling trees that framed the walking path, and the faint creak of the swings swaying in the wind. It was a place that had remained unchanged since your childhood, close to where you’d both grown up but far enough away from where you now lived that it felt like a retreat. You turned off the car and glanced over at Trent, your eyebrows raised.

“What are we doing here?” you asked, laughter bubbling in your voice. He opened the door, climbed out, and then made his way around to your side, pulling his hoodie up over his head in that way he always did when he wanted to go unnoticed. The sight was endearing but also a reminder of the reality you shared: the life he led, so scrutinized and public, and the need to keep parts of it hidden, you hidden. He pulled your door open and extended his hand to you.

“C’mon,” he urged gently. “Just wanted to spend some time with you.” You took his hand, stepping out of the car and feeling the cool, crisp autumn air kiss your skin. "Just you and me." The sky was a watercolor mix of oranges and purples, the sun dipping below the horizon and painting everything in a soft, fading glow. You slipped your hand out of his to wrap your arms around yourself for warmth, but Trent’s hand found your lower back, guiding you gently down the familiar path. As you walked, you both fell into an easy conversation about anything and everything: memories from your childhood, funny stories about people you both knew, and even complaints about the weather turning colder. But underneath it all, there was a tension you couldn’t shake. “Been missing you... I actually was trying to remember the first time I like properly caught some feelings for ya. pretty sure it was here,” he said, his voice quiet. His admission lingered in the air, heavy and sincere.

"I don't believe that." You smiled, not sure Trent even looked your way until your tits were out on a holiday. You were trying to stay guarded but he was making it hard. You felt your heart skip at his words, but you couldn’t bring yourself to fully relax into the moment.

"You should. Made me just miss being... us." He sheepishly said the word uniting you two as a pair. You knew how much you missed him too, but there was something else—a weight that was harder to put into words.

“Hmm,” you murmured noncommittally, your eyes trained on the path ahead. Trent stopped walking, his fingers brushing against your elbow to turn you toward him. You glanced up, your gaze meeting his, and his expression was a mix of worry and confusion.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, reading the unease in your eyes. He was searching for an answer, something to make sense of the way you were holding back. You let out a sigh, your breath visible in the cold air. 

“It’s not that something’s wrong,” you started, your voice trailing off. “I just… sometimes I feel like…” You struggled to find the words. How could you express the hurt of feeling like a secret, like this hidden part of his life he only got to enjoy behind closed doors? Trent’s jaw tensed slightly, his hands dropping to his sides as he watched you, his own heart sinking. He seemed to understand, even if it was painful to hear. 

“I know it’s not fair,” he admitted, running a hand over his hair beneath the hoodie. “But you make me feel grounded, Y/N. You make me feel like… me. And I just wanted some time. to feel like Trent, not all the shit that goes on during the week.” You swallowed the lump forming in your throat, nodding because you did understand. It just didn’t make the ache any less.

“I get it,” you whispered. And you did, you really did, but the understanding didn’t erase the feeling of being kept in the shadows. It wasn’t just friends and family who couldn't know… the world couldn’t know. In a way, you almost felt used or that you weren’t good enough to be shown. Nevertheless, you resumed walking, though your steps felt heavier now. Trent must have sensed your struggle because, after a few more moments, he bent down and picked a small daisy growing stubbornly among the fallen leaves. He held it out to you with a sheepish grin.

“Here,” he said, pressing it into your hand. "I always thought about nicking one of these and giving it to you but the lad's would've ripped into me back then." You couldn’t help but laugh, the gesture so innocent and sweet that it melted some of the tension in your chest. He leaned in and kissed your temple, the warmth of his lips comforting in the cold evening. You looked down at the daisy, a bittersweet smile playing on your lips. 

“They still would." You sympathetically smiled. "You know,” you began, shaking your head at the memories flooding back, “if you did that when we were kids, I would’ve screamed.” Trent’s eyes softened, a playful glint returning. 

“And now…?” he asked, wanting to hear how things had changed.

“Well…” You hesitated, your smile dimming. “It’s just a bit different now.” Your voice was quieter, the reality sinking back in. “I still like getting flowers from you.” You tried to backtrack but you couldn’t. The daisy felt like a piece of something beautiful, but the hoodie he still wore reminded you of the double life you both lived. The happiness was always tinged with the sadness of what you couldn’t have. Trent’s expression grew somber, and he stepped closer, his hands coming up to cup your face.

 “I know it’s not enough,” he whispered, his thumbs brushing your cheeks. “But I’m trying, Y/N. I really am.” You closed your eyes, his warmth seeping into your skin. 

“I know,” you whispered back. “And that’s what makes it so hard.” You opened your eyes, looking into his, and for a moment, there was nothing but understanding between you. No words, no defenses—just the complicated, beautiful mess of feelings you shared. He pulled you into a hug, and you rested your head on his chest, the daisy still clutched in your hand. The sun had nearly set, and the park was empty now, just the two of you standing in a place full of memories, trying to find a way to make sense of the present. He kissed your forehead and instead of bringing comfort, it stung. You went home that night and pressed the daisy in a favorite book of yours to preserve it. It was a book of poems. You found a worn page that you turned to often, one that your mum loved. You hoped in some way maybe she could help you decide what that daisy meant if you kept it there between you and her.  And as you shut the book to cement it. You watched a teardrop fall onto the hard cover. You and Trent, your past and your present bound closed.

•

Thank you for reading! Please like, comment, or message what you think of the chapter or of what's to come!

Next part - Chapter 6 xx

[semperama]

I wrote this last night when I was trying to distract myself from...everything. Set in 3x15, post-well collapse.

----

Buck is bleeding.

It’s Eddie who notices. He pulls the oxygen mask Hen just put on him to the side and nods down at Buck’s lap where his hands dangle over his knees. “What happened there?”

“Eddie, don’t—” Hen starts to say as the ambulance jolts into motion, Chim up front at the wheel. But then she looks at Buck’s hands, and Buck looks down at them too, and he sees what they see—rusty crust of dried blood, some of it bright red and oozing sluggish, dripping between his feet. A few of the nails are cracked or half ripped away. Now that he’s looking, his fingers throb. The pain is dull and distant, but it’s there.

“Buck,” Hen says, half dismay, half resignation. She reaches, hesitates.

“I’m fine,” Eddie says. He’s talking to Hen, but he meets Buck’s gaze and holds it. “Go check him out.”

“No.” Buck fights the urge to put his hands behind his back, like that’ll make a difference. “It’s nothing. Just a few scrapes.”

But Hen already has the antiseptic in her hands, and she takes Buck by the wrist, pulls him closer and leans over him.

It stings. He hisses, flinches. An ache haunts the back of his throat, and he can’t tell if it’s from residual panic or from screaming Eddie’s name, sobbing in Bobby’s lap.

“What did you do?” Eddie says. He’s still so pale, and Buck wants to take his hand away from Hen so he can pull Eddie against him, rub color and life back into his limbs.

“This idiot thought he could dig his way to you with his bare hands,” Hen says.

It sound crazy when she says it like that, but it wasn’t crazy, it wasn’t. It was essential. If Bobby hadn’t pulled him away, he would have gotten to Eddie eventually. His heart would have stopped beating otherwise, so—it would have worked. He could have done it.

Eddie won’t stop staring at him. And it’s fine, because Buck doesn’t want to look away either, or to let Eddie out of his sight ever again. He isn’t—he wasn’t supposed to be on this ambulance, but he’d turned to Bobby and said, Shouldn’t someone stay with him? And Bobby had looked at him for a long time before nodding, Okay, go on, and Buck was climbing in behind Eddie before the words had even fully left his mouth.

“Buck,” Eddie says, admonishing, and that’s—Buck laughs, short and sharp.

“You cut your line.”

Eddie grins. It’s dim with exhaustion, but it’s still—it’s— “Please,” he says. “You’d have done the same.”

Would Eddie have done the same, if their places were reversed? Would he have clawed at the earth, if it was Buck down there? When he was swimming through all that water, that impossible distance, was he thinking—like Buck was thinking—about how it wasn’t supposed to end this way? There was still so much inside Buck, and he needed someplace to put it, and he knew, too late and with dozens of feet of mud between them, that Eddie was that place.

Does Eddie know? Should Buck tell him now?

He opens his mouth, but he thinks better of it when Hen reaches for his other hand. No, not now. “Maybe I would have,” he says instead, “but you’d have given me hell for it.”

Eddie nods minutely. His gaze feels like a weight, pinning Buck to the uncomfortable bench. “Yeah. I would have.”

Hen finishes wrapping Buck’s fingers in gauze just as they arrive at the hospital. Now that he’s thinking about it, the pain is more pronounced, his heartbeat pounding in his fingertips. He jumps out of the back, and holds a hand out to help Eddie down too, but Eddie looks at him like he’s crazy and levers himself carefully to the ground without Buck’s help. It’s—considerate of him, avoiding Buck’s injured hands, but Buck wants to touch him so bad he thinks he might start screaming again. He settles for putting a steadying hand on Eddie’s shoulder when his feet hit the ground.

It hurts when he squeezes. He squeezes harder, until Eddie pats the small of his back and says, “I’m good.”

A nurse leads Eddie back to check him out. Hen and Chim head back to the station; they need to get the ambulance back, do their paperwork, help Bobby wrap up their shift, but they both hug Buck on the way out and tell him to call if anything comes up.

This is just a precaution, really—check Eddie’s lungs, check for hypothermia, get him painkillers for how sore he’ll be in the morning. Still, Buck stares at the doors that lead back to the exam rooms and doesn’t look away, hardly blinks. He wonders what the distance is between them now. If it’s more or less than the distance from the surface of the earth to the place where Eddie was buried alive.

At some point, Bobby comes, presses the keys to Buck’s Jeep into his hand and tells him they dropped it off in the parking lot, then leaves again. Buck must have spoken to him, but he doesn’t know what he said.

It’s fine. Eddie is fine, and Buck should be embarrassed that he still can’t draw a full breath. In, out, he tells himself. In, out, until the doors swing open and Eddie is there again, some color in his cheeks, smiling.

Buck gets to his feet, but he doesn’t know what to do with his hands. They hurt more now, waves of pain pulsing up his arms. He wants to reach out.

Eddie’s close. One foot away. Less. No earth between them.

Buck could touch him. Buck wants to touch him. But Eddie beats him to it. His hand lands on the back of Buck’s neck, and Buck is so relieved, his knees nearly give out.

“Home?” Eddie asks. And—he’s asking for Buck to take him there, but there’s something in the way he says it, something in his eyes and the way they’re locked on Buck’s. He could mean something else. Yeah, you are, Buck wants to say.

“Home,” he says instead.

Eddie’s palm lingers on his neck. Buck’s own hands throb. He flexes them, takes comfort in the ache. He doesn’t have to dig anymore, right? He doesn’t have to dig.

[carolperkinsexgirlfriend]

can you see the stars in your dreams (and do they have a lot to say about me) - Part 3

Or: a secret Admirer AU

PART 1 || PART 2

Chrissy Cunningham just slipped a note into someone’s locker. Robin doesn’t know whose, but it’s not Steve Harrington’s. She knows, because she’s had the absolute blessing of having him as her locker neighbor all year. And based on how often she’s seen Chrissy loitering in front of it with him, the gossip mill is right about their budding relationship.

Except Chrissy just slipped a note into someone else’s locker.

Robin watches her walk away, stomach curdling at Harrington’s name branded on her back. He might as well have raised a leg and pissed on her.

The hallway is largely vacant, everyone in their last periods of the day. Robin had been on her way to Pre-Calc after a quick stop at the restroom, but she’s scrapping that idea now: there’s a mystery afoot.

Robin hunches over the drinking fountain at the sound of footsteps coming down the hall. She pushes the button but makes sure her mouth is well out of the stream of contaminated water. She’s not willing to risk botulism, not even for Chrissy.

The footsteps walk by without a pause, so she stands up, wiping the bit of splash-backed water off her cheek as she waits. After a few more false starts, and the clock ticking down to the end of the day, she’s almost ready to give it up as a bad job.

But then someone else starts stomping down the hall. She watches out of the corner of her eye, once again bent over the fountain, as Eddie Munson spins the dial on the locker and pulls it open. He immediately plucks an envelope out, pulls the tab open, and retrieves a pale-blue piece of paper.

Robin’s thumb slips on the button for the water–the abrupt absence of sound must tip him off because he turns to her, a scowl already on his face as he asks, “what are you looking at?” as he clutches the note tightly to his chest.

It’s too late. She’d already seen him smile down at it, blushing and twirling one of his curls around his fingers.

It sinks into her stomach until she’s sick, a pit to nurture and grow in the acid of her intestines. She can almost feel them writhing as Eddie’s scowl deepens into a glare the longer her silence goes on.

“Nothing,” she says, averting her eyes to bend down and pretend to tie her shoe.

Eddie huffs, and she listens to him stomp down the hall, as something wet and embarrassing begins pooling in her eyes.

She spends the rest of class hiding in the bathroom trying to get her shit together by brute force.

It doesn’t work; it never does.

***

After the random band girl had creeped on him in the halls, Eddie stuffed the letter into the pocket of his vest, half-read. The anticipation builds through the rest of the period and all the way home.

In the comfort of his bedroom he reopens the envelope and peers inside, giddy at the thought of reading the rest of the letter, this time a response to his own words. 

Should he light a candle? Dim the lights? Eddie hasn’t seen a romance movie in a long time, but this feels like the sort of moment to recreate a scene from one. He’s getting love letters. Plural. Him. Eddie of the Munson doctrine.

He doesn’t even own any candles.

       Eddie – 

       I’m not trying to bully you. I do actually really like you, and I wish I was brave enough to tell you. Brave like you. It doesn’t seem like you’re afraid of anything.

       It’s ok if you don’t know how to respond, I’m just glad you did at all. I read it at least ten times and keep it in my nightstand drawer.

       Sorry, that might be too much.

       Yours, Always,

       Your Secret Admirer

       P.S. You’re always the best part of my day. I’m just glad I can read it at all. I’ve seen your penmanship, and I was a little worried. :)

Eddie brushes his fingers against the sign-off, the pen such a light touch that he can barely feel the grooves in the paper beneath that immaculate ink.

“Yours, always,” he says, quietly in the privacy of his bedroom.

But, he’s not alone in this shoebox, so Uncle Wayne’s voice calls a too-loud, “what?” from where he’s probably still in his recliner, camped out in the living room.

“Mind your business, old man!” Eddie calls back, already lost in the land of daydreams by the time Wayne’s laugh travels back through the door he’d forgotten to close.

Wayne’s always been a good secret keeper, but this one’s too big to share. It feels weighty somehow, like it’s an overfilled water-balloon and telling Wayne, or Jeff, or anyone might fill it up to bursting.

He doesn���t want to pop this fragile thing, not when he doesn’t even have a face or a name.

He wants to know what her name sounds like on his tongue, the way her mouth purses as she carefully writes each of these little words. He wants to know what her skin feels like beneath his careful fingers.

He wants.

But, a Munson’s a Munson, and they can’t always get what they want, so he presses his pen to the paper and settles for what he can have. Not a name, maybe. Not yet, but some questions still deserve an answer, right?

*** 

“I can’t believe we didn’t think of setting a drop-off location,” Steve says, biting his nails the way his mom has always hated. He spits the bit of nail out onto the floor. Chrissy gives him a disgusted look. “What? I’m nervous!”

Nose still wrinkled, Chrissy mutters, “that’s no excuse to be a pig,” barely loud enough for him to hear.

Steve stuffs his hands beneath his armpits, scowling down at the linoleum as they make the increasingly familiar trek to the library. Before the past couple weeks, Steve could count the number of times he’d been in here on one hand, and every single one of them was because of Nancy.

Now, it feels like he and Chrissy are always camping out at one of the tables, crouching over notepads and whispering even if the library’s empty. Steve might not be the smartest guy around, but he’s not stupid; if anyone finds out about this, he’ll be lucky to make it out of town before someone kills him.

“Calm down,” Chrissy says, holding the door open for him. He steps past her, hands still crossed over his chest in what’s starting to feel increasingly like a self-soothing hug.

Chrissy must think the same because she wraps her tiny arm around his waist and leads him toward a familiar bookshelf. “He probably left it in the same place as last time.”

The word “probably” isn’t bringing him much comfort, but Chrissy doesn’t give him any more time to catastrophize before she’s pulling that same useless encyclopedia off the shelf and flipping it open. And there, tucked cozily into its pages, is another note in Eddie’s scrawl.

Steve smiles down at it before remembering their location. “You didn’t even check for witnesses,” Steve hisses.

He peers over her shoulder, eying the lone student in the research section who’s bent over a heavy tome, paying them no mind. He snaps out of it when Chrissy slaps the letter against his chest before tucking it into the pocket of Steve’s varsity jacket. She’s taken to wearing it almost religiously, even as all the other cheerleaders tease her mercilessly for it.

“Calm down,” she says, already striding away, off toward their usual table as Steve rushes to catch up. “If anyone sees, they’ll just think I’m his secret admirer.”

Logically, he knows that. But some part of him feels like everyone will take one look at his face and just know. And no matter how hard he tries, it’s not a feeling that’s easy to shake.

“Thanks, Chris,” he mumbles, bumping their shoulders together. She stumbles from the unexpected weight, but before Steve can help steady her, she’s bumping back into him with a happy laugh.

No matter how this all goes down, he can’t regret it, not when it brought the revelation that is Chrissy Cunningham into his life.

Settled into their usual chairs squeezed tightly together, she opens the letter and slides it closer to him. Steve’s eyes devour each word as she sits idly by, waiting for his response.

         Secret Admirer,

         Oh, how your words wound me! My penmanship is immaculate, I’ll have you know. But it doesn’t seem fair that you know enough about me to recognize my handwriting, and I can’t say the same.

         I understand if you don’t want to tell me your name, but what do you like to do for fun? What’s your favorite color? What do you dream about?

         Can you give me anything? You call me brave but sending me these letters is the bravest thing I can think of, and every day I get one of your letters is the best day I’ve ever had.

         Sincerely,

         Eddie

         P.S. I hope I dream of you tonight.

Steve doesn’t realize he’s sighing wistfully down at the page until he catches Chrissy hiding a smile behind her hand. He smacks her in the arm with a quiet, “shut up,” but his ears are already burning.

“Can I see?” she asks, and all the fondness floods back into him.

“Course,” he says, pushing it across. He watches her face avidly, heartbeat ratcheting up as he watches a smile bloom across her face.

“He’s sweet,” she says, smiling dreamily down at the page for a moment before looking up at him with waggling eyebrows he couldn’t have imagined seeing on her face even a week ago. “He wants to dream of you.”

Her voice warbles teasingly, and the warmth on his ears starts creeping onto his cheeks and down his neck. Unable to help himself, Steve shoves her arm again. “Shut up!”

All she does is laugh and latch onto him to keep herself upright.

“He wants to know you,” she says, still smiling, still teasing, but it’s okay when it’s her, not like Tommy’s cruel ribbing or Carol’s barbed words. “So, what do you want him to know?”

[dark-konohagakure2]

imagine succubus!reader lurking in the phantomhive manor to find a victim for the night cause a succubus gets their energy if they take control but ends up getting caught and noncon-ed by sebastian until she cant take it anymore and begs to stop

UGHHH I HAVE BEEN STUCK WITH THIS IDEA SINCE THE DAY I IMAGINED IT 😭😭 petition for more succubus!reader fics 😔

tw: noncon, succubus!reader, size difference, tail pulling, rough sex, overstimulation, humiliation, creampie

All characters depicted are 18+

Sebastian takes his duties as the butler of the Phantomhive household very seriously, so seriously in fact that he doesn't ever sleep, mainly because demons don't need to sleep, but the fact still remains that there is no butler more diligent than Sebastian. His keen senses are able to pick up on the smallest of noises, even the faintest creak of the floorboards won't escape his notice. If a pin dropping doesn't go unnoticed by Sebastian, then there is no way in hell that he won't notice the presence of another hellish entity in his midst.

He is equal parts intrigued and concerned. Sebastian knows he can effortlessly dispatch any threat towards his master, bit even so the thought of another demon being after him is quite concerning. Never one to waste his time dwelling on any worries he might have, Sebastian will quickly do his part as a butler by apprehending the uninvited guest.

It's comically easy for Sebastian, he's not called a devil of a butler for nothing, he's able to use his superior strength to yank the little demon over to him when she's unaware, grabbing her by the pointy tail, which makes her hiss out in pain like a cat. Sebastian likes cats, even the ones with claws, but he sadly can't pet her, not when she's been such a bad girl as to even attempt to endanger his master.

Sebastian knows precisely how to deal with a naughty little succubus like herself, her kind feed off the sexual energy and desires of men, so he'll give her exactly what every succubus wants, he'll give it to her until she's begging him to stop. It's a fitting punishment for the demonic intruder, and it finally gives Sebastian the opportunity to stop feigning his humanity, even if just for a short while.

"Naughty thing, did you truly believe you could intrude oh my master's property without consequence? Oh how adorable~ I'll be sure to give you something to remember before sending you back to our home~"

His eyes are glowing unabashedly now, the glowing red orbs now having a feral intensity to them as he starts teasing the lesser demon, yanking on her tail roughly as he exposes her holes to his hellish gaze, teasing her sensitive pussy lips mercilessly before he decides to have his fill of her. Sebastian hasn't had a good fuck in a while, and certainly never with another demon that was aware of his true nature, so he's going to savor this rare treat.

Being centuries old, Sebastian is well versed in the art of making somebody come undone around his cock, whether they want to or not. His hips will slam against her from behind, his balls slapping against his ass while he fucks her raw, pulling on her tail like a bully pulling on the braids of a girl he likes. Sebastian's cock is long and thick, even in his human form, so it'll ram against her oversensitive womb with every thrust, forcing her into one mind breaking orgasm after the other.

Demons typically can't reproduce with one another, so Sebastian can cum inside of her to his heart's content without a care in the world, and he won't be satisfied with cumming inside of her just once, he's going to breed her until she's begging him to stop, and for hours after that too. It won't take long for her to go from confident and rude to whining and pleading with him to show mercy, but nothing will come of those pleas aside from her receiving even more mockery and even more loads shot into her already overstuffed womb.

He finds her reactions and pleading to be both adorable and pitiful, not to mention ironic; a creature who feeds off of sex now begging him to stop fucking her, her impish pussy overflowing with cum and weakly gripping his cock, fucked loose from the brutal pounding she's getting. He definitely won't be stopping anymore despite her pleas, after all, lesser demons make lovely fucktoys.

"Oh my~ begging already, little one? How sad, your kind usually loves getting ravished so, you truly are a disgrace from all demonkind~! How cute~!"

But alas, he can't keep this adorable little kitten as a house pet as much as he wants to, his young master would never allow such a thing, but Sebastian takes pride in the fact that he successfully subdued another interloper, and she won't mess with him again, that is unless she wants her holes destroyed again.

[mind-intheclouds342]

I found her first - Jimmys pov

This chapter contains mature and dark content.

This is the little bonus (from Do it for them) chapter about why Jimmy is so mad about the cute couple we love.

Jimmy: "Do I really have to use that crap?"

He complained while running his hand over his member to make it hard, so he could put on the condom.

"I already told you, sweetheart, no party without a hat~ don't feel left out, I do this with everyone who comes through here~"

The only thing separating them was that wall, and the only thing connecting them was that hole through which the man slid his member, immediately letting out a moan upon feeling lips on it.

That was one of his favorite places, his favorite mouth, he spent his money there every time those lovely lips were on the other side.

He immersed himself in the pleasure and compliments he could hear from the other side, he adored every second of it.

"Oh~! Did you finish, darling? You've lasted longer than last time~ what a good boy!"

Jimmy: "Shut up... get ready for your payment"

He heard the giggle from the other side and slid the bill through the slot, seeing the edge of a bra and placing it right there.

Jimmy: "You say that you charge others first before providing your service... Why do you let me do it later?"

"Because you are my favorite customer~ and I trust you!"

Those words melted him, he always asked the same thing, to receive the same answer, it made his ego grow bigger.

He already noticed that her favorite mouth was in different places, not just doing these jobs.

When he knew he could find her in the alleys looking for something good to smoke and to forget about the world, he knew how to find her.

"20 dollars? Let's go... That's excessive for this amount..."

She complained but was desperate to get the only thing that relaxed her.

Jimmy: "Can you do something for me to get it for just 10?"

That's how he managed to see her face and her lips back on his member, but there he didn't receive any kind of praise, just a quick suck, but it was worth it to see her face, how her eyes rolled back when he pushed her head, making her choke on him, he loved being able to do that.

But it drove him crazy that she wouldn't even look at him, always avoiding any kind of eye contact.

To then end up smoking together by the shores of the lake at that place.

Jimmy: "You could get it for free if you would just let me..."

"No"

She said curtly, looking at the lake and scratching his leg repeatedly, which she couldn't stop moving.

Jimmy: "I'm just saying... I could give you a place to sleep, you know."

"Go to hell"

Jimmy: "You too"

He loved her company.

It was still very much present the day he had been cornered by a group of teenagers who tried to steal the merchandise he had to sell in that area.

They were armed with sticks and a knife, being five against just one, the man was at a disadvantage.

Until she arrived, without any remorse, she hit one on the head with a glass bottle, breaking it.

She grabbed him by the neck and pointed the broken bottle at his face.

"Leave him alone, or I'll kill your friend right here."

No matter how bad they wanted to appear, they couldn't leave their friend behind, so they dropped their weapons and left.

"That should at least give me a week of something good without any payment, right?"

She commented, taking her hand to help her up.

Jimmy: "Bitch, you only helped me for that"

"Of course, you bastard, do you think I care about you?"

But the smile with which she said it, said the exact opposite for him.

For him, she was his companion, a woman he could turn to at any moment, as long as he gave her something in return.

That's why when he saw her by his side... Immediately, his whole world crumbled.

Curly: "Jimmy! Let me introduce you to (Y/n)"

It was the first time he heard her name.

He watched her as she hid behind her friend, avoiding his gaze, fully aware of the things she had done with him, as if she wanted to pretend they had never happened.

Why are you with him?

Why do you hold onto him like that?

Are you really going to leave me?

They were questions that always crossed his mind, furious at having to witness how something that was his, something he had achieved on his own, was snatched away by someone else.

From that moment on, he never stopped insulting her, only saying unpleasant things about her to his friend, hoping that one day he would leave her and she would be his again.

But that never happened.

Jimmy: "Goddammit Curly, why don't you answer?"

He complained by leaving messages for his friend, with whom he was supposed to meet that day. He was going to his house and knocked on the door loudly to get his attention.

After several minutes, the man opened the door, embarrassed, wearing only his pants.

Curly: "Jimmy! We were supposed to meet today, weren't we? I'm sorry, I fell asleep! I'll get ready right away and let's go!"

He immediately knew it was a lie when he saw her hiding behind a wall, spying, with a blanket covering her body.

I also want to see it.

I also want to have it.

Why did you give it to him when I've kindly asked you so many times?

Jimmy: "Get ready quickly! You're wasting my time..."

His friend laughed and nodded, apologizing again for the problem.

Even their hopes of reclaiming what was theirs did not fade.

Even after they have gotten married.

He was going to get what he wanted, even if he had to snatch it from his friend's hands.

After all, he found her first.

[rosieswriting]

Barty Crouch Jr x Hufflepuff!reader

Summary: After the birthday of your dear friend, Pandora Rosier, Barty doesn´t seem as bad as he did before

Note: I took one of the request of reader "tutoring" barty not knowing he doesn´t need it by @treefairy-28 thank youuuu. And english is not my first language so it probably has some mistakes! And i will do a part 2 to where things get really interesting

Words: 3,2K

You’d always hated Barty Crouch Junior. Everything about him grated on your nerves—the way he spoke too loudly in class, yet still managed to top every exam; the infuriating pet names he used for you; his smug belief that being a Slytherin somehow made him superior, especially to Hufflepuffs like you. His walk, his talk—everything about him seemed designed to annoy you. Luckily, you’d always managed to ignore him. Until now.

You’d recently been paired with Pandora Rosier for a Potions project, and to your surprise, you’d quickly grown close. How had you not been friends before? She was sweet, caring, and easy to talk to—similar to you in so many ways. When her birthday rolled around, she invited you to a small celebration at the Three Broomsticks with her twin, Evan, and a few of his friends. Including him. You’d thought long and hard about it, knowing you’d have to deal with Barty, but in the end, you decided to go. After all, it was for Pandora, and you could always try to ignore him.

The Three Broomsticks was packed, busier than you’d expected. It seemed half of Hogwarts was out celebrating. Just as you were scanning the room, you heard Pandora’s cheerful voice calling your name.

“Happy Birthday!” you said warmly, pulling her into a hug and handing her a small box containing a silver necklace.

Pandora’s eyes lit up as she opened it. “Oh, I love this! Thank you so much,” she beamed, hugging you again. “Come on, we’re over here.”

She led you through the crowded room toward a cozy corner table. And, of course, as you approached, you saw Evan Rosier, Regulus Black and Barty leaning back in his chair, already watching you with that familiar smirk.

“Hi” you mumbled a bit shyly to the slytherin as you sat next to Pandora, and to your luck, Barty was seated right in front of you. Regulus and Evan gave you a slight nod of acknowledgment and continue their conversation.

“Look who decided to join us” Barty teased raising his eyebrows “Dindt think you would show up, Treasure”

“Barty” Pandora said with a warning tone to his friend, trying to shut him up. But he only raised his hands in self innocence and exuse himself with a poor “just trying to start a conversation”

“I wouldn’t miss Dora´s birthday just because I have to deal with you, Junior” you said with a fake sweet smile to him.

“Deal with me? You wound me Badger” he said and you rolled your eyes at the nickname.

“If its any consolation, im actually impressed that your ego managed to fit through the door” is the last thing you say before turning to talk to Pandora and ignore him.

You and your blonde friend talk for some time, she telling you about how her birthday has been and all the presents she got. At some point you start to get thirsty.

“Im gonna ask for something to drink, ill be right back” you say kindly as you stand up from the chair.

“I’ll go with you” you hear Barty says as he stands up as well.

“Great” you whisper under your breath as you start to make your way to the bar, him following behind you.

You ordered a butterbeer, and Barty, naturally, ordered the same, positioning himself so close that his shoulder brushed against yours. The warm, subtle contact sent an unexpected flutter through you, though you tried to ignore it.

“I must admit,” he began, leaning down just enough to speak directly into your ear, “when Evan told us Dora would invite you, my expectations for tonight went up higher.”

“Good for you,” you muttered, turning to face him with an eye roll, only to find his face so close that you could feel his breath on your cheek. You quickly turned your gaze forward again, pretending to study the bottles lined up behind the bar. He chuckled, catching the slight blush that had crept up your cheeks “When Dora mentioned you were coming, I almost declined her invitation” you continued, doing your best to sound unfazed

 “If you say so. But, can I just say, you show up here looking like this, put me in my place with that sweet, sassy voice of yours… you’re killing me here.”

Despite yourself, you feel warmth creeping up your cheeks.  Thankfully, the bartender hands you both your drinks before you have to answer. You turn to make your way back to the table, but Barty steps in front of you, forcing you to stop short as he smirks down at you, close enough that you catch the faintest spark in his gaze.

“You know, I think you secretly like driving me a little mad,” he murmurs, amusement flickering in his eyes. “It’s cute, really—seeing you pretend to be so above it all.”

“Pretend?” you scoff, raising an eyebrow as you try to sidestep him. “Trust me, Junior, I’m not pretending anything.”

“Oh, really?” he asks, following you smoothly, keeping pace as you try to dodge around him. “Then explain why you look so flustered.”

“I’m not—” You stop, realizing he’s caught you, the faint blush on your cheeks betraying you. You try to shrug it off, holding your head high. “In your dreams, Junior”

He grins, leaning in close enough that his voice is a murmur just for you. “Oh, Treasure. In my dreams we are doing more than talking. Belive me”

You huffed, finally brushing past him and making your way back to the table. “Idiot,” you muttered, though you couldn’t ignore the faint thrill left in the air.

Sliding back into your seat next to Pandora, you tried to steady yourself as she happily dove back into conversation, thankfully distracting you from the lingering heat in your cheeks and Barty’s lingering gaze across the table.

As the night wore on, you and the slytherins stepped out of the warm, bustling atmosphere of the Three Broomsticks into the chilly night air. The sharp bite of winter nipped at your skin, making you shiver as you wrapped your arms around yourself in a futile attempt to keep warm. You hadn’t brought a jacket and now you were regretting it.

Pandora was chatting animatedly with Evan and Regulus, blissfully unaware of your growing discomfort. Barty walked alongside you, his familiar smirk already playing on his lips. You knew he was about to make a comment, and you braced yourself.

Without warning, Barty slipped off his leather jacket and draped it over your shoulders, pulling it tightly around you before you had the chance to protest. “Here, wear this,” he said, his voice low and smooth, ignoring your startled expression. “You look like you’re about to freeze to death.”

You blinked at him, flustered. “You don´t have to-” you start but he cuts you off.

“Please, like I’d let you suffer while I stand here all warm and toasty.” He chuckled. “You show up looking all stunning, and I won’t let you ruin it by turning into an icicle.”

Your cheeks flushed at the unexpected gesture, the warmth of his jacket enveloping you like a shield. You tried to regain your composure, shivering slightly as you adjusted the jacket to fit more snugly. “Thanks, but I don’t need your charity, Junior.” You weren´t willing to give up that easily.

“Oh, is that what you’re calling it? Charity?” he teased, falling into step beside you again, his grin infuriatingly charming. “I thought it was more of a gentlemanly move, if you will.”

“Gentlemanly? You?” You scoffed, shaking your head in disbelief. “You must be joking.”

“Why so skeptical? I can be quite the gentleman when the mood strikes me,” he said, leaning in closer again, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Besides, I can’t have my favorite Hufflepuff catching a cold now, can I?”

You felt a rush of warmth flood your cheeks at his words, and you tried to deflect, “You’re just doing this to annoy me, aren’t you?”

“Maybe,” he replied, a cheeky glint in his eyes. “But I also happen to enjoy the view when you’re flustered. You should see your face right now. It’s adorable.”

“Adorable?” You repeated incredulously, fighting the urge to smile. “You really think you’re charming, don’t you?”

He leaned back slightly, feigning deep thought. “Well, I wouldn’t say charming. More like irresistible.”

You shook your head, biting back a smile as you shot him a glare. “Keep dreaming, Junior.”

“Trust me, I will,” he shot back with that devil-may-care grin.

Pandora turned to you both, her eyes sparkling with delight. “Oh my gosh, you two are so cute! You’re practically flirting!” she gushed, completely unaware of your desire to bury your face in your hands.

“Flirting?” you exclaimed, turning to Barty in disbelief. “This isn’t flirting; it’s sheer torture!”

Barty chuckled, his gaze locked on yours, mischief dancing in his eyes. “Torture? Maybe I’ll have to keep it up then. Can’t have you getting too comfortable, can we?”

As you walked back to Hogwarts, you could feel the weight of his jacket around your shoulders, and though you’d never admit it, the warmth was more than just physical. Despite the banter and the bickering, you couldn’t shake the flutter in your stomach. Barty Crouch Junior might drive you mad, but maybe—just maybe—there was something nice about having him around after all.

You arrive to Hogwarts and everyone makes their way to their common room, the boys to Slytherin´s, Pandora to Ravenclaw´s and you to Hufflepuff´s. You get into your dorm quietly, because even if it was a Friday night, your roomates were sleeping.

As you began to undress, you suddenly realized you still had Barty’s jacket draped over your shoulders. Great, you thought with an eye roll. Now I have to see him again. You sighed, folding it neatly and placing it in your wardrobe alongside your other clothes.

After a quick trip to the bathroom to wash off your makeup and change into your pajamas, you settled into bed. The comfort of your blankets enveloped you, but no matter how hard you tried to shake it off, the memory of Barty's teasing grin lingered in your mind.

You hated that the last thought before sleep was that goddamn smirk of his—so infuriating yet somehow captivating. With a frustrated huff, you turned over, determined to banish thoughts of him, but the image of his charming arrogance persisted, a playful reminder of the night’s events.

You woke up the next day, the soft sunlight filtering through the windows of your dormitory. The quiet of the weekend morning was a welcome contrast to the usual hustle and bustle of school life. You moved through your routine slowly, knowing you had no classes to rush to today. After freshing up, you dressed casually and made your way to the Great Hall for breakfast. You decided to take Barty´s jacket with you, so you could return it as soon as possible.

And thanks to Merlin, when you enter the Great Hall you immediately spotted him at the Slytherin table with his friends. You wave at your own friends and make them a signal to wait for you as you approached the green table, your friends staring at you like you had gone crazy.

“Junior” you call out softly from behind him.

Barty´s head whipped around, his grin widening when he saw you “Treasure!” his voice was full of amusement as he looked you up and down “Miss me alredy?”

You rolled your eyes and extended his jacket over him “Im here to return this, and to say thank you again” even if he was insufferable, you were always polite.

He raised an eyebrow, clearly pleased by your words, as he took the jacket from you “You know, I was hoping you would keep it for longer. You did look amazing in it. Not that I didn’t like you in your top, of course”

You felt the heat increasing in your cheeks at his words but try to hide it with a scoff, your hands instinctively moving to fold your arms across your chest. “Whatever” you muttered, stepping back and already starting to turn away “Goodbye”

Some days later you were sitting with your friends in the courtyard, laughing as you discussed the latest mishap in Potions class, when you noticed a familiar figure making his way toward you. Barty Crouch Jr, in all his swagger, had that unmistakable smirk as he approached your small circle, his eyes already fixed on you.

"Treasure," he greeted smoothly, nodding to your friends before focusing entirely on you. "Got a minute?"

You raised an eyebrow, a bit taken aback that he’d be seeking you out in broad daylight, in front of witnesses no less. “Depends. What do you want, Junior?”

He chuckled, unfazed by your tone. "Pandora said you’re somewhat of an expert in Magical Creatures. Thought maybe you could help a struggling Slytherin with a few... basics.”

Your friends exchanged glances, one of them biting back a smile as they elbowed each other. You tried to ignore it, focusing on Barty. “Struggling?” you echoed, skeptical. “You’re one of the top students. Why do you need my help?”

He shrugged, managing to look both innocent and mischievous. “Call it an off week. I could use some extra guidance.”

One of your friends couldn’t resist chiming in, “Are you sure you don’t just want to copy her notes, Barty?”

“Oh, I’d love to copy,” he said, giving you a pointed look, “but I think I’d learn more if we… studied together. Say, this afternoon?”

“Fine,” you said, ignoring the snickers from your friends. “The library at six?”

“Or my room?” he suggested, not missing a beat. “Much quieter. Comfier too.”

You rolled your eyes, even as your friends burst into laughter. “Nice try. The library will do just fine.”

He placed a hand over his heart, feigning disappointment. “Heartbreaking, really. I was hoping for a more… private lesson.”

“Guess you’ll just have to settle for learning in public,” you replied, a smile tugging at the corner of your mouth. “See you at six, Junior.”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” he said, his smirk widening.

With that, he turned and sauntered off, leaving your friends barely containing their laughter.

“Oh, Merlin,” one of them said as soon as he was out of earshot, “did Barty Crouch Jr. just ask you for a tutoring session?”

You sighed, trying not to show the flutter of nerves in your stomach. “Apparently. And he’d better actually need help with Magical Creatures.”

But even as you turned back to your conversation, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this “study session” was going to be anything but ordinary.

That evening, you made your way to the library with a stack of notes on magical creatures and a determination to focus—no matter how distracting your “student” might try to be. When you arrived, you saw Barty lounging at a back table, idly flipping through a book that looked suspiciously unrelated to magical creatures.

“Good, you’re here,” he said with a grin as you sat down. “I was starting to think you’d stand me up.”

You rolled your eyes as you sat in front of him “Almost did” you mumble under your breath as you opened your book and notes. The library was quiet as you huddled over a hefty tome on magical creatures, quills and parchment spread across the table between you. It seemed like he was genuinely focused—or at least, he pretended to be.

“Alright, Junior” you said, pointing to a section in Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, “why don’t you tell me everything you know about hippogriffs?”

He gave you a thoughtful look, scratching his chin as if deep in concentration. “Hmm… majestic creatures, proud, can be very dangerous if approached incorrectly… does that sound right?”

You tilted your head, eyeing him suspiciously. “So you do know about them, after all. That’s a decent start.”

“Well, I have the basics,” he said with a little grin, “but I wouldn’t call myself an expert. That’s where you come in, Treasure.”

You rolled your eyes but smiled anyway, nudging the book closer to him. “Alright, fine. Hippogriffs are proud, but there’s more to them than that. They’re highly sensitive and require respect—bowing to them before approaching is essential.”

He nodded, trying to keep a straight face, though you could tell he was amused. “Bowing. Got it. Sort of like dealing with you, isn’t it? Respect, admiration…”

You huffed, fighting the warmth creeping into your cheeks. “Keep it up, and I’ll leave you to fend for yourself next time we have a test.”

“Anything but that,” he said, raising his hands in mock surrender, though his grin didn’t fade. “You’re far too charming when you’re lecturing me on magical creatures.”

You ignored him and went over a few more creatures, each time finding him surprisingly attentive. He asked questions—good ones, actually—and seemed engaged in a way you hadn’t expected. You started to think maybe he genuinely did want to learn more about the subject.

As the library began to empty, you glanced at the time. “We should probably get some dinner before the house-elves clear the tables,” you said, gathering your notes.

You started to walk to the Great Hall, still in conversation about the finer points of bowtruckles, when something slipped out from under his arm and fluttered to the ground. You instinctively bent down to pick it up, and your eyes widened as you caught sight of the parchment. It was an essay titled “The Lifecycle of Thestrals” with “A” scrawled at the top in red ink. The neat handwriting and the perfectly structured points left no doubt: Barty had known exactly what he was doing in Care of Magical Creatures all along.

You blinked, looking from the essay to Barty, who wore a guilty-but-unbothered grin.

“What’s this?” you asked, eyebrows raised. “You didn’t need my help at all, did you?”

“Guilty as charged,” he replied, his smirk widening.

You scoffed, folding your arms. “Unbelievable. So you wasted my time?”

He leaned in, voice dropping to a low murmur. “Come on, can you really blame me?” His eyes held that familiar glint. “When Pandora mentioned you were the go-to expert on magical creatures, I knew I couldn’t miss the chance. I mean, who wouldn’t want to spend a few hours with someone as pretty as you, Treasure?”

Heat crept up your cheeks, and you looked away, trying not to let him see how flustered you felt. “You are unbelievable,” you muttered, but your voice came out softer than you intended.

“Unbelievably charming? I’ll take it,” he said, grinning as you approached the Great Hall. “I had a great time, by the way. Maybe next time, we can have a... more private study session.”

He threw you a wink before sauntering off toward the Slytherin table, leaving you standing there, cheeks flushed, speechless, and—if you were being honest with yourself—a bit confused. Because somehow, despite his insufferable arrogance, the idea of spending more time with him didn’t sound half as annoying as you’d expected.