#this is only the sfw ones..........................................

[mageofmadness]

LADS MEN + ANESTHESIA

(2k) 𓍯𓂃𓏧♡ sfw [17+] includes: talk of surgery though non-descript, under the influence of anesthesia, pitiful men, pathetic attempts at ass grabbing, possibly ooc. go easy on me, i've never written zayne or xav. we're trying.

SYLUS unfortunately does not handle anesthesia well.

he doesn't handle hospitals well, preferring to take care of any issues he has himself. he hasn’t stepped foot in a hospital in years but cannot take care of this problem himself, and he's mad about it. pissed. he’s dismissive of everything said unless it’s coming from you and you have to remind him on more than one occasion to be nice and to stop acting so childish. no biting the nurse's heads off, the doctors are just doing their jobs, etc. he’s a nightmare patient who is only amicable when you’re by his side. sylus is all bark and no bite, too big for the damn hospital bed as they roll him into surgery.

despite that, everything is going relatively smoothly. you kiss him before he leaves, glaring at him as he says, “if i die in there, wait for me. promise i’ll be back.”

he comes out of it immediately and starts yelling for his wife. you two are not married, but good to know where things are going.

he's the one that freaks out and security almost escorts you from the building. you try to calm him down but he’s beside himself. sylus is too big to be manhandled back into the bed, seemingly forgetting he’s hooked up to all these wires, and he refuses to speak to anyone but his wife. gritting his teeth, “where is she? what did you do with her?” you (the she in question) are standing right there, but there’s been a shift change and new nurses and they don’t recognize you and he starts yelling the moment you touch him, trying to get him to lay back down:

"i am married do NOT touch me. do not...don't touch. my wife will kill you. she will! don't touch me, where are the doctors? get her out of here, my wife...oh she's going to be so mad. you touched me, she's going to be so mad. I'm going to be in so much trouble."

it takes you leaving the room, standing awkwardly in the hall as people glance at the commotion, and walking back in for sylus to suddenly recognize you. he looks absolutely pitiful, relieved beyond thought at the sight of his wife finally, and you know he’s never, ever going to live this down. 

CALEB is relentless.

even under the, quite frankly, insane amount of anesthesia he had to be given before surgery, he’s still trying to do for you. caleb tries to give you his blanket because he’s cold (you are not, but the gesture is sweet.) he offers you his sad hospital food, insisting you need to eat and must be starving “y–you…love jello, pips” (you love jello as much as the next person.)

he tries to give you his only pillow and asks for water from the nurse for you as well. he gets mad there’s nothing you want to watch on the tv: how dare the hospital not have your favorite show. he ignores the doctors and glares at them as he scoots over to make room for you to lie down next to him, scoffing at the suggestion that something as vital as you being as close to him might not be the best idea right now.

“it’s in your best interest to let her lay down,” caleb says, eyelids heavy. the doctors eyes widen and you wince. “i’m paying for this hospital stay, correct? that’s what i thought, so this bed is mine, therefore it’s hers and if you don’t want her laying in bed with me, maybe invest in some more comfortable couches. not just a chair.”

it’s all very sweet, except through all of this his speech is slurred and he keeps nodding off in the middle of talking. it’s hard to take his harsh words and mean looks seriously. it makes his glaring at the doctors quite ineffective and when caleb’s finally brought the water, he doesn’t remember he asked for it for you, and drinks it all. his attempt at fluffing the pillow for you is nothing more than weakly punching it a few times, and he offers you the blanket by half-heartedly pushing it onto the ground before powering down like he’s been unplugged.

he only calms once you are in bed with him, sending apologetic glances at the nurses and doctors. telling him yes the water was great and yes, you’re very warm and content (he still has the entire blanket and you’re sweating actually. he runs so hot.) and yes the pillow is fine (you’re not even laying on the pillow.)

RAFAYEL is a runner.

he’s insistent, the moment his eyes open, that he’s ready to go home. pack everything up, give him his clothes—he’s not taking no for an answer. the hospital smells weird and he wants his own bed. these are the words of a man determined to be heard as if he’d have the ability to stand, let alone put on his pants. rafayel is halfway to unplugging himself from everything, scanning the room for his things, asking you for what you think are the car keys as if the way he’s slurring his words isn’t a great indicator of his ability to operate a motor vehicle right now and he’s an arguer. he’s pouting. he’s rolling his eyes and throwing his hands in the air, dramatically throwing himself against the pillows.

rafayel insists he’s fine enough to go to the bathroom himself: “if i can piss by myself, i can drive a car.”  his logic is flawed. you also say no when he mumbles from the bathroom, “can you come hold it? my dick while i piss?” which negates his previous logic and you do tell him that to which you get a pout and shoved out of the bathroom. 

rafayel is the type to look you in the eyes and half-consciously mumble something about, “i’m not trying to have domestic dispute in the hospital, are you? take me home.” you gently try to push him back into the bed, reminding him he’s in a hospital gown and his ass is out. you’re amazed at the large words he’s using, not so impressed with the way he’s trying to get out of the bed again. and again. you’re also not impressed with the way he’s swaying in place, telling the nurses with a pout that he’s fine. that you’re there to take care of him now so, “you’re dismissed, your services are no longer needed” and that if you’re not going to take him home, rafayel will just go get the car himself and pull it around. you love how overly confident he is, and it really is ideal that he’s so weak from the drugs that he’s easily overpowered.

it takes three nurses and a doctor and you raising a brow at him, pointing your finger and narrowing your eyes, for him to flop himself back down into the bed. he loses steam quickly after that, waking up later and not remembering a thing but you do remind him that he flashed his bare ass to the entire staff.

XAVIER concerns the doctors with how long it takes him to wake up.

he’s out like a light and wakes up after sleeping like the dead and sees you speaking to the doctor. he’s silent, he’s not yelling. he’s quite sound up there in his head despite the anesthesia but he doesn’t like that doctor or how close he’s standing to you or the doctor’s hand on your shoulder or the way the male nurse comes in to ask you something and while he’s the most level headed of them all, he still can’t help but say something. 

you and the staff seem really chummy, and who knows how long he’s been out. he finally clears his throat, both you and the doctor looking over. 

“leave.”

xavier glances between you and the doctor. you’re tired, you’ve been there since morning, and you give the doctor a clipped smile, thanking him and nodding, letting him know it’s fine, and you’ve got it from here. xavier’s eyes don’t leave the doctor until he’s out the door and for the next few hours, you are confined to the small sliver of hospital bed with him as he silently fumes that the doctor was trying to make a move on you while he was indisposed.

“you smiled at him,” he insists. “i don’t trust him. i’ll report him for medical malpractice.”

you take none of this personally, quickly reminding him being nice as a doctor is a good thing. you almost find humor in it, if xavier’s calm demeanor wasn’t somewhat unnerving after the second and third hour. you ask him if he’s in pain, he says no. you ask him if he wants to rest, he says no. you ask him if he needs anything, he says no. you realize too late that he’s doing everything to avoid the doctor coming back into the room. when he finally does, xavier speaks for himself. slowly, a bit stilted, but he’s impressive with his lucidity. tightening his arms around you and asking for the door to be shut this time when you two are left alone. 

“i’ll sleep when we’re back home.”

safe to say he manages to pull it together well enough to be discharged as soon as possible, and once you’re home, he drops the act, turns into a bit of a baby, and passes out to sleep again.

ZAYNE is 100% handsy.

he’s a doctor, he knows what he’s getting into and what’s going on when he wakes up. he wasn’t worried before, he’s not worried now and you’re actually the one that’s been stressed this entire time. zayne has the wherewithal to understand he’s stuck for a bit in this room, and while his can you hand me that water? is genuine, he narrows his eyes as you walk past him and reaches a limp hand out to grab your ass. you turn around, startled, and he shrugs. he has the drugs as an excuse, not that zayne doesn’t appreciate your ass on the regular, he just has an excuse now to grope you in the hospital bed which, let’s be real, he’s kind of into. not the whole him-in-the-bed situation, or you in the bed if the roles were reversed but, well. the thought of you as a hot nurse does cross his mind. he might not remember this later, but his defenses are down, and he won’t blame himself.

“lay in the bed with me,” zayne mumbles, eyes closed. “c’mon.”

you remind him that’s not the best idea, he’s a doctor, and he should know this but he frowns and opens an eye. it’s endearing, this side of him, and you know what’s coming before you even lay down. zayne’s hand falls from the bed, grabbing your ass again as you slowly try to crawl into the bed with him. the doctors come in, and zayne is dismissive, spouting off responses to their questions with his eyes closed as if this is all a walk in the park as he feels you up still under the blanket. a handful off your ass is squeezed every time he has to answer another annoying question.

you whisper, reminding him that he’s not being the best patient right now, and zayne scoffs, seemingly letting the anesthesia work its magic on his limbs and lack of filter:

“i’m lying in bed resting, i don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“stress is not good for recovery.” another squeeze. “don’t stress me out.”

you relay all of this to him after he’s fully conscious, even slipping in his mumbles talk of you as a hot nurse he’d let slip while asleep, and he blinks. there’s a slight blush, but he does not deny or condemn his own actions. like he said, he won’t blame himself.

@ mageofmadness 2025. ִֶָ. 232.161.195 161.178.232

[svtiddiess]

Kiss Quota

Synopsis: You wanted to try the "can’t stop kissing my boyfriend" challenge—but why not add your own little twist?

Pairing: Dino x afab!reader

Genre: fluff, established relationship, drabble

Rating: sfw

Word count: 864

Warnings: none!

Note: This was requested! I hope you enjoy anonie!

Thank you @mylovesstuffs and @joonsytip for betaing!

Click here to join my taglist!

Read on ao3

Reblogs are appreciated ♡

.ᐟMinors/blank/no age indicator blogs will be blocked.ᐟ

You giggle to yourself as you scroll through yet another TikTok. Lately, your FYP has been overflowing with adorable couple challenges, and you can't help but want to try one out. After browsing for a while, you decide on the "can't stop kissing my boyfriend" challenge—but with your own little twist. Instead of showering him with kisses right away, you plan to tease him by starting with just one kiss a day, gradually building up until he's drowning in them.

Just then, Chan walks into the room. Perfect timing, you think. You quickly hop off the couch and run straight into his arms. He chuckles softly, wrapping you in a warm embrace.

"I missed you," you pout, looking up at him.

"I was just in the other room," he grins, amused.

"But I still missed you," you huff, leaning in to place a gentle kiss on his lips.

He smiles into the kiss, leaning in for more when you pull away with a mischievous glint in your eye.

"You've hit your kiss quota for the day," you announce with a cheeky grin.

"My kiss quota?" He tilts his head, clearly confused.

You nod, eyes sparkling. "Yup! You're only allowed one kiss for today. No more until tomorrow."

He blinks, processing your words, before letting out a dramatic whine.

"Baby, you can't be serious," he pleads, pouting like a kicked puppy.

"I am," you reply, grinning. "You'll just have to wait for tomorrow."

He stares at you, lips still in a pout, but you only laugh and gently untangle yourself from his arms. Plopping back onto the couch, you resume scrolling through TikTok, purposefully ignoring your sulking boyfriend as he tries (and fails) to win you over.

The next day rolls around, and you almost forget about the challenge—almost. Chan has already kissed you twice: once in the morning as a wake-up kiss and again before he left for work. That means he's already hit his kiss quota for the day.

Later, you hear the front door open, signalling Chan's return. It doesn't take long for him to make his way to the bedroom, where he immediately flops down on top of you.

"Chan!" you squeal, caught off guard.

"I missed you," he grins, wrapping his arms around you and squeezing you tightly.

"I missed you too, but stop suffocating me!" you laugh, squirming beneath him.

"No~," he teases, leaning in to steal another kiss.

You squeal again and quickly turn your head, dodging his lips.

"Why won't you kiss me?" he pouts.

"Because you've already reached your kiss quota for the day," you say, flashing him a playful grin.

"Are we still doing that?" he whines, his pout deepening.

"Yup! Two kisses today—quota met," you chirp.

"Baby~," he drags out, trying to soften you up with his best puppy-dog eyes.

"Not gonna work," you giggle. "Your puppy eyes can't save you this time."

He lets out a dramatic huff and buries his face in your neck, grumbling in defeat as you laugh at his frustration. You're having way too much fun teasing him.

A few days have passed, and you decide it's finally time to end the teasing—you're going to give Chan all the kisses he’s been craving. But, of course, you're not going to tell him that; you'll surprise him instead.

In the morning, you playfully dodge his kiss, which earns you a symphony of whines and pouts. You giggle as he cups your face and forces a kiss on you, determined not to miss a single one.

Now, he's lying in bed, scrolling through his phone, completely unaware of the ambush you're planning. You quietly slide next to him, and without even thinking, his arm wraps around you.

You place a single kiss on his cheek.

No reaction.

You pout, then give him two more kisses.

Still nothing.

Frustrated, you start peppering his face with kisses, making sure to kiss his lips multiple times. But he stays glued to his screen, completely unfazed.

Annoyed, you pull away—only to be yanked right back, your back pressing against his chest.

"I don't remember telling you to stop," he purrs into your ear. "Keep kissing me."

"Well, you seemed more interested in your phone than me," you huff, turning to glare at him.

He grins. "I had to get you back for that kiss quota somehow."

You pout, stubbornly refusing to give him more kisses. But Chan has other plans. He begins to pepper your face with kisses instead, making you giggle as his lips press against your skin. You squirm, attempting to escape, but his grip is unrelenting.

"Oh no, you're not getting away," he mutters, flipping you over and pinning you beneath him. You squeal as your back hits the mattress, your heart racing wildly.

"You've got a lot of kisses to make up for," he huffs, staring down at you. "Days' worth."

"Better get started, then," you tease, flashing him a grin.

His eyes darken with playful intent, and he smirks before capturing your lips in a kiss that makes your eyes flutter shut. And just like that, it's the first of many kisses to come.

Taglist: @tinyelfperson @gyuguys @stay-tiny-things @unlikelysublimekryptonite @miyx-amour @iamawkwardandshy @codeinebelle @brownbunnyb @do-you-remember-summer-127 @sclovreina @theidontknowmehn @toplinehyunjin @gyuhao365 @mysticfairies @cherrylovescheol @cookiearmy @4shypotato @lxnnrobin @sashaaahh @xueisaaa17 @aeriyell @eshia16 @dreamingofpcy @archivistworld @kyeomiis @iwannakisspoutycheol @foxiesgf24 @livelaughloveseventeen @kwanniehae @ateez-atiny380

[bvidzsoo]

The blue and pink of your skin

ᨒCherry Blossom, March Eventᨒ

Author: bvidzsoo

Pairing: sunshine!Jeong Yunho x grumpy!reader

ᨒ Warning: cursing ᨒ Word count: 7.3k ᨒ Rating: sfw ᨒ Genre: fluff, soulmates: a touch from your soulmate will leave an imprint there, road trip, stuck together/roommates, sunshine & grumpy, one friend group, slight enemies to lovers ᨒ Summary: If there's one person you never understood, and stopped trying to, it was Jeong Yunho. Upon your first meeting back in college, you just knew he'd be a pain in the ass...and you were right. His vibrant personality matched with the constant smile on his face and sickening positivity always made you stay away from him. But much to your dismay, your friend groups mashed quite well, and years after college, you were still going strong and hanging out at any given opportunity. Much to your horror, your best friend makes you share a room and a bed with Yunho for the weekend, and that's when things change...but not for the reasons you'd first think of.

A/N: Helloo, my loves! And so, we've reached the penultimate drabble of this event, it feels kind of bittersweet, but I am so glad I could share these stories with you, Mina and I had a blast planning this event and writing all the little stories. Posting this drabble today was strategic since I wanted it to be the closest to Yunho's birthday, hehe, so happy belated birthday to our Yunho! ^^ Out of all the stories, this was the first one I got an idea for, so I'm really excited to finally post it. It turned out shorter than I expected (and I'm glad for that ahahaha). I hope you enjoy, I'd like to thank everyone who have shared their thoughts on all of our stories, we appreciate your feedback lots! That being said, let me know what you thought of this one, and I hope to see you around for my other stories! ^^ divider @cromernet

ᨒ Join the taglist here! ᨒ

Taglist: @thecarnivaloflies @faeriehwa @mingiatz @xylatox @solaris-amethyst

@foxinnie8 @marvolos @licityvibes @amoryeonjun @nkryuki

@matchahintonagar @k1ttym0nkey @justconniez @ateezswonderland @lemonkait00

@youcanstayalways @cristy-101 @my-atiny-kookie-rkive @wooyouz @cosmicrecs

@mizushimakumiko @awkward-fucking-thing @juicyjaxxy @jenluvzen @kang-ulzzang

@mintsugarr93

            You groaned as you stretched your numb muscles, massaging your calf as you waited for your best friend’s boyfriend to unload your luggage. The drive had taken you three hours, but the longer you stared at the visage, the more you realised it was worth being stuffed inside a car next to Jeong Yunho. You scowled to yourself as your eyes shifted onto the tall man, who was—unsurprisingly—laughing about something he was watching on his phone. His bony knee had been digging into your thigh the whole ride because the tallest and largest man had decided to take the middle seat for some obscure reason. You rolled your eyes and faced Seungcheol as he finally grabbed your duffel bag, hauling it out of the trunk of his car.

“Damn,” He muttered, one eyebrow raised teasingly, “Did you only pack dumbbells, or why is this so heavy?”

You were about to retort something just as Jeonghan slid up next to you, smirking mischievously, “Nah, this lovely lady wouldn’t leave the house without all that face paint she uses. Had to make sure everything was packed.”

“You assholes.” You snapped, shrugging off Jeonghan’s arm and ripping your duffle bag out of Seungcheol’s hands, flipping them off as you stormed off towards the lovely-looking beach house. It looked rather spacious, and judging based on the pictures your best friend had shown you of the interior, it had a Greek theme going on. You sighed as you walked up the front steps, still able to hear Seungcheol and Jeonghan’s amused cackles, making you shake your head. At times, you couldn’t believe you were friends with such idiots, and for such a long time, at that. Has it been five—no, maybe six years—since your friend group formed, all thanks to one drunken night when all of you just so happened to attend the same frat party, teaming up randomly for a game that you couldn’t even recall anymore? You remembered those days fondly, even called it the Golden Times since you’ve never had as much fun in your life as then. And now, with college over and everyone having busy lives, things were a lot calmer and more complicated. It was a miracle everyone was able to make it this weekend, your little get-together was much expected and welcomed.

The wood creaked under your feet as you took to the second floor, following your best friend’s instructions from this morning. The rooms had already been assigned to everyone, and who your roommate would be was still a mystery. You were just about to guess who it could be when you heard footsteps following after you on the stairs, making you turn your head back. Your heart dropped when your eyes fell on Jeong Yunho, who—once again—was unsurprisingly grinning and looking as happy as if he had won the lottery. He nodded at you in a small greeting as if you hadn’t already seen each other—hell, you were even forced to breathe the same air for three hours—and out of instinct, your feet carried you up the stairs faster. Yunho looked amused as he jogged up after you, and as if you were a little kid, you found yourself basically running for your assigned room, heart beating fast. Your duffle bag was getting in the way of your legs, forcing you to be a lot slower than you usually were, so you chanced a look back over your shoulder, only to see Yunho still following you. Your heart lurched in your chest as he laughed—as if this was amusing to him—and you finally made it inside your room, whirling around as you stared at Yunho wide-eyed. Why was he following you?! Wasn’t it enough you had to endure his laughter and stupid stories for two hours? And then, you had to sit there stiffly as his head lolled to the side, landing on your shoulder as soft snores left his mouth?! God, everything about Jeong Yunho was so damn irritating—you wanted to scream. Instead, you slammed the door in his face before he could reach the threshold of your assigned room, heart racing in your chest.

You’d be ashamed to admit your age if anyone were to see you right now, but as the doorknob started twisting, your hand shot out and grabbed it, keeping it from turning. Your eyebrows furrowed as the person on the other side wouldn’t give up—Yunho, the person was Yunho—and you yelped when the door started rattling. Your fingers flexed and your muscles tensed as you dropped your duffle bag, holding the door with both hands, cursing when even the doorframe started shaking.

“What the fuck,” You heard a confused mutter on the other side, “Is this stuck?”

God, why did your best friend hate you? There was no way in hell your best friend willingly made Yunho your roommate—she must’ve been held at gunpoint by Seungcheol when she made the arrangements.

“Hey, Y/N? You good in there?!” And God, you hated the slight concern lacing Yunho’s tone as your hands started aching from your vice-like grip on the doorknob, “The door’s stuck!”

“No, it’s not, you idiot.” You hissed under your breath, accepting your fate as you closed your eyes and took a deep breath. Then, on the next push, you twisted the doorknob suddenly and yanked it open, making Yunho stumble forward with an alarmed yelp. His eyes widened as he barrelled inside your shared room, hands out in front of himself to brace him in case he fell. He looked like a clown, a tall and idiotic one, as he found his footing—legs in a wide stance and mouth open in a silent scream. He slowly turned his body, ears burning red, an unsure smile on his lips.

“Oh my God, that was scary.” He muttered as he looked around the room, his eyes falling on you as he grabbed his backpack off his shoulder, “Well, hi there, roomie!”

And God, how much you hated that cheerful—full of life and happiness and the desire to live—smile on his handsome face, you wanted to both scream and punch him.

“Roomie, my ass.” You huffed before turning around and storming outside, leaving a confused Yunho looking after you. His head had tilted to the side as he rubbed his nape with an awkward chuckle leaving his lips, and he shrugged before he grabbed your duffle bag to place it on the left side of your shared queen bed since he knew you preferred sleeping on that side. Meanwhile, with your blood boiling and your cheeks red from both anger and embarrassment, you stormed out onto the back deck, instantly finding your best friend. She was already sipping a cocktail out of a fake coconut, and you wondered when she had made that since you had just arrived.

“Kang Seulgi!” You snapped, arms crossing over your chest as you blocked the sun from your best friend’s face. Yeosang, her brother, jumped in the seat next to her when he heard their surname being called, placing a hand over his heart.

“Lord, I’m still not used to you shouting at us.” He muttered under his breath, going back to his magazine when you threw him a dirty look, “And I’ve been listening to it for at least ten years.”

Seulgi’s laughter drowned out her brother’s muttering, and you tried to channel your anger into your issue with Seulgi only. Yeosang was a lovely man, and you sometimes preferred him over his twin sister, but his snarky comments could make you climb walls and hang upside down like a female Spiderman.

“What’s the matter, my dear—”

But Seulgi wasn’t even finished asking when you were already speaking, fast, and throwing an accusing finger in her face, “You made me and Yunho room together?! Are you insane?!”

You felt Yeosang look over his magazine, amusement dancing on his features as Seulgi and he shared a look. Oh, so this wasn’t just Seulgi’s idea—sometimes you wondered why you decided to be friends with such devils.

“Honey, I thought we were over this.” Seulgi raised an eyebrow, taking a sip of her cocktail nonchalantly, “It’s only for two nights, for God’s sake. And it’s literally Yunho, the sweetest guy you could ever meet. Do you want me to switch him up with Jeonghan? Or Soonyoung?”

You shuddered hearing those two names and quickly shook your head, realizing that rooming with one evil person or one that would never shut up was perhaps worse than rooming with the guy who’s been getting on your nerves since the moment you met him. Which was…five or six years ago, at that college party that changed your lives for the better and an eternity.

“Don’t be mad at me, my dear,” Seulgi pouted, reaching out to hold your hand, “Only you and Yunho aren’t a couple; I think it was expected you two end up rooming together. And because I knew you’d hate me for it, as compensation, I gave you the only room with an ocean view.”

Your flare died out at the mention of being able to see the water from your room, and you pouted as you intertwined your fingers with Seulgi’s. She chuckled, shaking her head at you as she offered you her cocktail. Leaning down, you took a sip and instantly regretted it as the potent alcohol burned your throat, the taste of coconut almost making you gag. Yeosang chuckled as he hid behind his magazine, eyes peeking out when you shuddered.

“I hope yours isn’t as atrocious as hers.” You pointed at the cocktail sitting on the coffee table next to Yeosang, and he shook his head, grinning proudly.

“Jongho’s bartender days had paid off well.” Right, you forgot for a second that Jongho had flown into the country just to go on this get-together with the whole of you. You couldn’t wait to catch up with him, eager to hear all of his stories and the places he’s visited lately. As a rising opera singer, you could confidently say Jongho was the smartest one in your bunch when it came to building a good future for himself. You let go of Seulgi’s hand as you hummed, shuffling on your feet now that you had nothing else to say. You had to room with Yunho whether you liked it or not. Breaking up the couples would’ve been an asshole move, and it would’ve also made you feel uncomfortable—unless Yeri, bless her the angel she was—would end up fighting with Soonyoung over some game, their fight leading her to ditch Soonyoung and room with you instead. One could pray, and you did as you headed back to your room, wanting to unpack your things.

You dragged your feet as you entered the house, the smell of something delicious cooking making your stomach growl. Jeonghan and Seungcheol were already in the kitchen, seasoning the meat and boiling water for ramen, the caramelized onion promising a delicious lunch in just a few hours. As you went up the stairs, you weren’t even surprised to find Soonyoung blasting his music loudly, the door to his and Yeri’s room opened as he was doing push-ups, Yeri nowhere in sight.

“Have a little consideration for some of us, yeah?” You knew Jongho was probably trying to catch up on much-needed sleep, but Soonyoung just pouted before he pushed the door open in your face, not before sticking his tongue out. You rolled your eyes and headed for your room, dread filling your body. Yunho was in there, probably still happy as if he had no worries in this damn world, either smiling or laughing at something on his goddamn phone. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, bracing yourself for the next two days that were to come, then pushed the door open.

Somehow, you weren’t surprised to see Yunho perched up on the edge of the bed, shoes kicked off and his hoodie disregarded as he was playing on his PlayStation Portal, his bottom lip between his teeth and his eyebrows furrowed. The guy was obsessed with gaming throughout college, and you see he hadn’t let go of the bad habit just yet. You didn’t understand what was so entertaining or even pleasurable about wasting your time and life away in front of a console, playing stupid games that either had you mad or screaming at your teammates. Yunho tsked quietly as you walked further inside, shutting the door behind you and stepping out of your shoes, not knowing what to do next. The curtains were undrawn and your eyes settled on the pretty visage for a second, taking in the brightness of the ocean, the waves that crashed against the golden sand not too far from your vacation house. You felt eyes on you, and you turned your head to see Yunho looking up at you with a smile on his lips, the game loading on his console. God, did he have to resemble a damn excited dog? You couldn’t even look at a dog anymore without remembering Yunho, he ruined everything for you.

Looking at your duffle bag on the left side of the bed, realizing that Yunho had already unpacked his things on the right side of the room, made something snap in your chest as your heart started racing again. And what better way than to take your frustration out on Yunho? You gritted your teeth and stormed towards the bed, making Yunho’s eyes widen as you were headed straight for him. He sat up a bit taller when you stopped inches away from him, hands on your hips as you frowned, gnawing on your bottom lip for a second. He opened his mouth, and before he could say something to piss you off even more, your loud voice was clear in the room, “We need rules.”

Yunho didn’t say anything as he looked at you confused, tilting his head as his eyebrows slightly furrowed, “Uhm, what for?”

“Did you think I would just let you in my personal space?” You raised your eyebrows at Yunho and he pouted, the game on his console dinging that it was about to start. He looked down to pause it, then faced you again.

“I mean, we are adults, so I just didn’t expect for us to have…rules.” For someone who was a philosophy professor, he sure as hell looked and sounded dumb right now. You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms in front of your chest instead, tapping your foot against the floor impatiently.

“That’s exactly why we need rules.” You huffed, then cleared your throat to make yourself understood, “Don’t turn on the overhead lights once I’ve gone to bed; if you snore, you’re instantly out. Clean the sink and toilet after you use it, it’s literally not that hard to close the lid. If I find pubic hair in the shower, you’re never using our bathroom ever again. If you have to fart, fine, but if it’s loud and smelly—for the love of God, Yunho, just use the damn terrace, I don’t want to partake in it. Keep your things on your side of the room, don’t touch my stuff and don’t steal my charger. And most importantly, don’t touch me—not even accidentally—while we are in bed. The pillows I’ll put between us are not to be moved, yeah?!”

Yunho just blinked at you, mouth slightly open as he seemed to be processing the information. As you stared at each other, you realized his black hair had gotten a bit longer since the last time you’d seen him, getting in his eyes. Eyes which were round and a pretty brown colour, staring up at you innocently as if you had accused him of a murder he had never committed. A murder that you would commit if he didn’t respect your boundaries.

“I mean, okay.” His voice was unsure as he pouted, looking around the room, “Can I at least have a little section of the wardrobe for my clothes?”

Great, and now you were the tyrant. You huffed and went to grab your duffle bag, hauling it up on the bed to start unpacking, “You act as if I just stripped you of all of your rights.”

“Might as well have done that, would’ve felt less stingy.” You froze, eyebrows furrowing as you gave Yunho a questioning look. He was still watching you, his cheerful expression finally gone—and the triumph you had expected to feel at being the cause of it never came, leaving you confused. Before you could question what he had meant, Yunho looked down and pressed play on his console, a loud and long sigh leaving his lips as he scooted further up on the bed, leaning his back against the headboard. You gave his body a longer glance than necessary, then went back to the task at hand while also trying to locate all the available pillows in the room to put between the two of you on the bed.

            It was as if no time had passed, as if you were all just naïve and unassuming young adults in your early twenties again, doing the stupidest things that came to mind, sharing stories that certainly were laced with white lies to make them sound cooler, and life felt good for now. As you had dinner this evening, you came to realise that your life had become too monotonous, too frigid. You did the same things daily, getting up and going to work, only to return tired in the afternoon to a household that was empty and bland, waiting for you to fill it with life…which rarely happened since you couldn’t be bothered to pour your time into insignificant things. Most people that you knew were already paired up with their soulmates, having long found them. Your friend group—something that still shocked anyone you told them about—was formed by couples who were soulmates. You knew the Universe had a plan for everyone, stringing them together in mysterious ways, but this one was downright bizarre. Nobody would’ve thought on the night of your first meeting that you’d end up so tight-knit and important to each other, slowly but gradually each one of you discovering their soulmates. Well, except for you and Yunho.

It's not that you weren’t trying to find them; it’s that you were mostly too busy to bother with that, and you also weren’t fond of physical closeness. In a world which requires a touch from your soulmate to leave a mark, thus discovering your match, the thought made you shudder as you rarely let anyone close enough to touch you. Seulgi and Yeosang were exceptions, as were Jeonghan and Seungcheol since they never listened and only did it to annoy you. Sometimes, you wondered if the Universe accidentally mismatched their soulmates for someone else instead of each other, but whenever you voiced that thought, Seulgi would whine, and Jihyo would threaten to beat you up if you repeated that sentence. You knew better than anyone else what it felt like to be surrounded by unconditional love and adoration-filled looks passed between soulmates, and yet you wondered if Yunho ever felt the envy you did as you watched him across the table, head tipped back as he laughed loudly at whatever story Soonyoung was animatedly telling him.

He had always seemed so content, so confident in his aloneness; it made you wonder whether Yunho simply didn’t care about the existence of soulmates. Maybe he had a partner he wasn’t telling you all about, not that you were interested enough to know. The dinner table had been loud as everyone talked over each other, conversations flying around the table without stopping, the friend group eager to catch up and be nostalgic over the past. It felt nice to step away and relax a little, to be surrounded by people who had known you at your lowest and highest. You were thankful for having them, even if you rarely showed it to them, and as your eyes got glassy, you forced yourself to blink the tears away and blame it on the wine. Listening to Jongho, watching the happiness and excitement on his face, made something coil in your stomach, so proud of him for achieving his dream. It was now that you realised you wouldn’t change anything if you were allowed to go back in time—even if that meant meeting Yunho, too.

You don’t know when this displeasure for him started, but you were suspicious it had something to do with the fact that he had laughed in your face after you started crying over a failed grade. You were a perfectionist and worked hard for everything in life; failing at something felt like you were the biggest failure, and you did not appreciate Yunho’s cheery disposition as he told you that the world wouldn’t end if you weren’t good at everything. He wouldn’t get it, he barely cared about anything, he was nonchalant and allowed life to take him to whatever places. You weren’t like that and you hated the envy that consumed your veins when you watched how carefree he was, with how much ease he navigated his life. Happiness was a feeling everyone chased—yearned to feel—and it had never sat well with you that Yunho just so easily achieved it. There was no way he could be that happy all the time, always smiling and laughing, joking with everyone and making others laugh—something wasn’t right about him, and you hated him for it. You sighed before you took another sip of your wine, looking at Yeri as she sneakily pushed her mushrooms filled with cheese on your plate. Soonyoung and her had been dating for the longest, and yet, Soonyoung still hadn’t memorized the fact that Yeri hated mushrooms and carrots.

Once you were done with dinner, you weren’t surprised to find the boys proposing ridiculous games to play as the girls tried to do damage control. You’ve had a long day and you were sure everyone would want to head to bed earlier today compared to yesterday. Your morning was quiet, much to your surprise, Yunho had respected all of your rules and even aired the bathroom after using it. By the time you had come back inside your shared room, he was gone, the scent of his cologne strong as the pleasant breeze brushed inside through the open terrace door. He had also kept to his side of the bed, and you had woken up during the night because you had to pee, finding him clutching a pillow to his chest as he intangibly muttered to himself, his cheeks puffy and hair mused up. Before you could stare at him and become creepy, you went to the bathroom and groaned as you realized Yunho looked adorable. You spent the rest of your day out on the beach, enjoying the warm weather and the refreshing water. Then you had gone to town and hit up pubs and some stores before you returned to your beach house, everyone prettying up so you’d head out at night to have some fun. Getting ready with Yunho was rather domestic and left you feeling weird as you shared a mirror in the bathroom, you doing your makeup and him shaving. No words were exchanged as you were both focused, but you couldn’t help but stare at Yunho from time to time. He’d smile at you softly before finishing up, even asking you questions about what moisturizer he should use to soothe his face after shaving.

It felt oddly normal, right, even, which messed with your head and heart since you hated Jeong Yunho more than anything on this Earth. And now, forced to partake in a game that made no sense, you could feel your heart racing as your arm brushed against Yunho’s, your naked skins hot against each other. Nobody wanted to do the dishes since there were many, so the boys had decided that the slowest couple that would reach the finish line with their ankles tied together would be the ones doing the dishes. It was stupid—and hilarious at the same time—but you refused to admit it when you realized just how excited Yunho was over this stupid idea. And even like that, you couldn’t hide your competitiveness as you focused on the red ribbon tied to a little stick Jongho had pressed into the sand. The moon was above the ocean, shining its calming light over the water and your friend group, as the porch light didn’t reach this far. Your flashlights from your phones helped with better lighting as you made sure you weren’t stepping on crabs, seashells, any small rocks or anything else that could cut your bare feet. You felt goosebumps erupt on your exposed arms due to the chilly breeze, having to grip your long skirt as you were afraid it would get in the way of your success. You raised it above your knees as you stared ahead, tsking when you felt Yunho tugging on your ankle.

“Sorry.” He muttered, looking down at you as Yeri screamed as she and Soonyoung finally passed the finish line. Jihyo was laughing loudly as she showed them the time, the slowest couple so far, and Jongho cheered with malice as he was draped over Yeosang’s back, the couple currently in first place. You chuckled as you watched the two men, their cheeks flushed from the cocktails they’d been having throughout the night, and you jumped when you felt Yunho tenderly pat your wrist, “We are up next.”

Right, it was your turn. You bit your lower lip and clumsily hopped to the start line, feeling perspiration break out on your forehead despite the colder weather. Your heart was racing in anticipation and adrenaline as you realized you and Yunho might not make it to the finish line without faceplanting since you both seemed to be klutzy about this.

“Ready?” Jongho asked, his words slightly slurred, and you wondered how he and Yeosang finished so quickly without tumbling even once, “Start!”

Jeonghan’s loud clap made you jump even though you knew it was coming, and your eyes widened when you felt your tied ankle being dragged by Yunho as he took twice the length of a footstep you would’ve called normal. You yelped as you realized Yunho was practically dragging you after himself, your left hand curling into his bicep as you felt him hold you by the waist to stabilize you when he felt you stagger.

“Come on!” Yunho called out, looking down at you with dark eyes, determined not to lose this. You huffed but had to agree with him; you were not going to wash the monstrous amount of dishes in the kitchen, so you locked in, “That’s it! One—two—three—”

And Yunho continued to count as your steps synched up, finding the perfect rhythm as you were suddenly power walking down the sand, headed for the finish line. You didn’t even realise it at first, but you had started laughing at some point, as did Yunho, who started giggling, jarred on by the booing and cheering of your friends. Jeonghan tried to sabotage you by throwing a pebble in front of you, making Jihyo chastise him for it, but thanks to the long strides Yunho was forcing you to take—not everyone had legs for days like him—you thankfully missed hurting your foot.

“Come on, Y/N, Yunho!” Yeosang cheered you on as he watched the timer in his hands. His face lit up with excitement as he started jumping up and down, “Oh my God! They are going to beat our time, Joong—”

“Bullshit!” Jongho called loudly just as you crossed the finish line, making you cheer loudly as your chest moved up and down quickly as you tried to catch your breath, your heart racing in your chest. Yunho seemed to be glowing under the moonlight, his hair tussled by the wind and the top buttons of his shirt undone and exposing his collarbones and a wink of his chest and—shit, Yunho was gorgeous, and you weren’t laughing anymore as you had stopped to stare at his breathtaking smile.

Someone screamed in delight and you flinched, turning your head in time to watch Jongho falling to the ground dramatically as Yeosang grinned, “You two beat our time! You are in the first place!”

A gasp left your lips, and forgetting your ankle was still tied to Yunho’s, you made to jump up, only to be violently brought back down to the earth by the rope. You gasped again, more in fright, as you felt your right leg give out underneath you, but before you could hit the sand or, worse, sprain your ankle, you felt a strong hand wrap around your left bicep, holding you up. Long fingers pressed into your skin as you found anchor in Yunho’s wrist with your right hand, your own fingers curling into his skin painfully. Your heart was racing as you stared up at Yunho, who looked concerned until his eyebrows furrowed. You winced as you felt your skin burning under his grip, and the two of you released each other at the same time. As Seulgi came to help you untie the rope around your ankles, you dared to glance at your bicep, only to find it bruising into a dark spot right where Yunho’s fingertips had dug into your skin. You gulped nervously, something like dread filling the pit of your stomach as you watched Yunho rub his wrist, chewing on his bottom lip as his skin was blooming with black bruise marks as well.

No, this couldn’t be it. He couldn’t be the one. Anyone but Jeong Yunho, please, Universe.

            The second your eyes flew open the next morning, you had one thought and one only in your mind. Check the bruising. If it was gone by now, you almost had a panic attack over nothing last night. If it was still there, then you’d never want to see Jeong Yunho ever again. You exhaled slowly as you gulped, turning your head to the left to check whether Yunho was still asleep or not. He was softly snoring, facing you as his arm was draped over the pillows you had placed between the two of you, and you came to the alarming realization that the hand which was resting over your stomach was brushing against Yunho’s warm skin. Your fingers seemed to be lazily intertwined and your cheeks burned in both shame and anger as you slowly pulled your hand back, staring up at the ceiling. You were leaving back home in just a few hours, and you hoped the moment you’d unlock your front door would come sooner. Sure, seeing your friends was everything you needed, but possibly being Jeong Yunho’s soulmate was everything you didn’t need.

Taking a quiet, deep breath, you slowly sat up, trying to keep the rustling of sheets minimal so as not to wake Yunho. Then, you said a quiet prayer and dared a peek at your left bicep—only for your world to come crashing down. Your body froze, your limbs going numb as you gaped at your pink and blueish skin, Yunho’s fingertips forever etched into your skin. It was there, nothing could take it away or modify it. The mark left by Yunho was permanent. And he was your soulmate, and you couldn’t do anything about it. Your heart started racing as you swiftly got out of bed, forgetting about Yunho’s presence as you felt tears gather in your eyes. Yunho was an amazing man, you’d be dumb to deny that fact, but you’ve spent your whole life hating him ever since you had gotten to know him. Why did it have to be him? And how come it took you two so long to figure it out? To find each other? You realized it was because you had never touched before, not like this, at least. Yunho knew you hated physical closeness, and unless a game or circumstance forced you together, you couldn’t remember a time when he willingly hovered over you or touched you.

You exhaled a shuddering breath as you continued pacing in your room, still dark inside since Yunho had drawn the blackout curtains together after you complained last morning about the sun falling on your face and waking you up unnecessarily early. You didn’t notice Yunho stirring awake as you bit through your nails, destroying the pretty manicure your friend had given you, and you could swear you still felt Yunho’s firm grip on your skin, his palm warm and smooth, gentle despite the way he held you up. Twisting your arm and looking down at the colourful bruise once again, you wished it would’ve stayed black…then your soul wouldn’t be tied to Jeong Yunho’s. Movement in your peripheral made you freeze again, body tense as you turned around to face Yunho. He had sat up in the bed, hair tousled in all directions, his cheeks chubby and flushed, his eyes puffy, and his lips swollen as he rubbed a large hand over his face, sighing loudly as he leaned against the headboard. It seemed like he hadn’t noticed your distress yet, and you chewed on your bottom lip, instinctively hiding the mark he had left on your bicep last night.

It took him a few more seconds of staring at you to notice the way your fingernails dug into your skin, and his eyes widened minusculely, gulping loudly as his eyes slowly travelled to his right wrist. You didn’t have to look at his skin to know, his quiet gasp was enough to tell you that, yes, this wasn’t a dream nor a sick joke. You and Yunho were soulmates.

“Y/N.” His voice was deep and laced with sleep as he scrambled forward on the bed, his legs getting tangled in the sheets, and something tugged at your heart. God, you hated this. You hated that Seulgi and Yeosang had been right about finding your soulmate…once they were yours, there was no going back, no blissful ignorance, no freedom whatsoever as all you wanted to do was curl up in Yunho’s lap and inhale his strong cologne, run your fingers through his hair and feel his bodily heat, “I’m—we are—”

“I’m hungry.” Was all you said as you grabbed your hoodie—it was Yunho’s, but in your haste to leave, you failed to notice. And then, you were out the door before Yunho could say anything else, his mouth open and his heart racing as he watched you slip away with thundering footsteps. Just how would he mend your already rocky bond?

            Going radio silent on all of your friends was nasty of you, but you needed space and peace. You needed air to clear your thoughts, and you certainly didn’t need a second person’s opinion trying to convince you that finding your soulmate was the best thing in the world. So, what if it was? What if you didn’t want to have a soulmate? Who were you kidding? You’ve always wondered who it’d be and what they’d be like, but now that you knew, you had no idea what to do with yourself. Despite the warm day you had ahead of yourself, you wore a long-sleeved blouse to work, getting curious glances from your co-workers. It was cold in the mornings, so you had grabbed the hoodie you had worn to sleep last night after wearing it the whole day, only to realise in horror that it was Yunho’s and that you had taken it at the vacation house right in front of him. Everything felt mortifying today, even brewing your coffee in the late afternoon, but nothing could’ve prepared you for the visceral reaction you had when someone knocked on your door, and you opened it without checking the peephole first.

Your hands trembled as your grip tightened around the door handle, eyes drinking in Yunho’s tall form as he stood outside your doorstep, smiling sheepishly. His shorts reached just below his knees, a white t-shirt tucked inside with a brown belt hooked around his hips, the colour matching his Vans. Your heart stopped beating when your eyes fell on the flowers in his right hand, the bruise bright and obvious against his pale skin. You gulped, nervous, angry, and unsure at the same time as you stepped back, opening the door wider to let Yunho inside.

“Hi.” His tone was tentative as if he didn’t know how to approach you, and you felt like an asshole that Yunho had to tiptoe around you. He had no idea what attitude you’d have towards him now, and you couldn’t blame him. You’ve always made it obvious that you didn’t like him, and despite his efforts to get on your good side, he only managed to piss you off more each time.

“Hi.” You greeted back, tone impassive as he followed you to your kitchen after he left his shoes in the doorway. He was nervously fidgeting with his fingers, rubbing his chin, and you could see the beginning of a stubble growing out. You faced Yunho, the counter between your bodies as you eyed the flowers in his hand, quirking an eyebrow. Yunho blushed, then chuckled awkwardly before he placed the flowers on the counter, pushing them tentatively towards you.

“These are for you.” He said quietly, avoiding eye contact as you reached your hand out to take the flowers. Your hands brushed together accidentally, and you felt electricity coursing through your fingers. Yunho’s head snapped up as his eyes widened, and you knew he had felt it, too. You sighed, leaning against the counter in defeat as you grabbed the flowers, looking down at them with a tired smile.

“Thank you, this is a sweet gesture.” You muttered, tracing the petals as you heard a surprised sound leaving Yunho’s mouth. You chuckled, looking up at him in defeat, “I’m sorry for the way I reacted yesterday. I was…in shock.”

“It’s okay, I understand.” Yunho shrugged, pulling out a stool to sit on. You grabbed a vase and filled it with water as Yunho watched you tinker around in your kitchen, placing the pretty flowers in the vase, “How are you feeling now?”

You chuckled humourlessly, “I’m still shocked, but I’m not in denial anymore.”

“Yeah, that’s good.” Yunho averted his eyes, tracing the pattern of the marble of your countertop, “Is it…so horrible that I am your soulmate?”

Your eyebrows furrowed as you felt a lump in your throat. Gone was the happy and assured Yunho, replaced with someone sad-sounding and sceptical, “What? No, I just—I’m a horrible person. I’m sorry for making you feel unwanted, Yunho. I just…I spent my whole life ignoring you and disliking you, and now we’re…supposed to spend our lives together, it’s just so weird.”

You could’ve worded that better, and you only realized that when Yunho flinched, avoiding eye contact, “Wait! I—fine, I might as well be honest now. I was put off by your confidence at first; I didn’t understand how one could smile so much, laugh all the time and have no hardships. Then, as our friend group grew closer together, I realized it’s just who you were. A happy, cheerful, positive person with a bright outlook on life, and I just—that was so foreign to me. I thought you were fake for never showing how you truly felt, for smiling even when you were sad or angry. I realise it sounds really shitty of me now that I’m saying it out loud, but I genuinely don’t hate you, Yunho. I just find you…enigmatic?”

You didn’t expect Yunho to smile, but then again, you shouldn’t have been surprised that it was his first reaction. He chuckled and lowered his head, eyebrows furrowed before he looked up into your eyes, “I hope you’ll learn to be less grumpy by my side, then, Y/N, I can’t have you chasing the sunshine away.”

“You are the sunshine.” You slapped a hand over your mouth in terror when you realized you had said that out loud, making Yunho’s head fall back as he started laughing loudly. God, this was so utterly embarrassing. Were you always so cringy?

“That was rather sweet of you, thank you.” He said once he had calmed down, a faint blush painting his cheeks, “It’s a little hilarious you literally hate me for being a cheerful person, but I get it…I suppose. We are different in many ways, but you know what they say…opposites attract.”

“Right, that.” You muttered under your breath, pursing your lips, “What now?”

“Well,” Yunho seemed to think for a second, his forehead lightly creasing as he hummed lowly, “I say we slowly get to know each other.”

“But we already know each other.” You quickly said, eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

“Yes, but you have a prejudice over me, and I also have my own beliefs about your personality, so…I say we take it from zero and rediscover each other. If that’s alright with you.” As an afterthought, Yunho added with a mutter, “After all, there’s plenty of ways we don’t know each other yet.”

Your cheeks flushed as your mind conjured up an image of Yunho you’d rather not fantasize about while the man was right in front of you, so you cleared your throat and squared your shoulders, trying to look serious despite the knowing glint in Yunho’s eyes with which he was looking at you, “Right, sure. That sounds…okay, I can work with that.”

Yunho stood, grinning widely at you, “Can I hug you, then?”

You gnawed on your bottom lip for a second before you nodded, walking around the counter to approach Yunho. He was beaming at you as he opened his arms, and your heart lurched all the way up into your throat before it settled into a frenzied rhythm, making you almost stagger into your soulmate. Yunho’s t-shirt was soft as your cheek landed on his shoulder, nose faintly brushing against the warm skin of his neck, and your eyes fluttered closed when Yunho’s arms secured around you, pulling you flush against himself. You exhaled quietly and circled his waist, feeling your cheeks burn as Yunho hummed in contentment, nuzzling his nose against the top of your head. He held you firmly like he knew you had all the time in the world, and you’ve never felt as safe as in this moment. Your muscles were lax, your mind quiet as you lost yourself in Yunho’s warmth and familiar cologne, cheeks burning brighter when you remembered that you hadn’t stopped wearing his hoodie ever since you accidentally took it. Thank the Universe you had changed out of it when you got home, or else you’d be beyond embarrassed about it.

“Oh, I cannot wait to get used to this,” Yunho whispered into the crown of your head, and you swore you felt your legs turn into a puddle as you turned your head into his neck, trying to refrain from giggling as you bit your bottom lip. You didn’t fight the feeling and pressed a swift kiss against his pulse point, making Yunho’s arms tighten around your torso. You would’ve never thought you’d do a one-eighty when it came to Yunho, but as your soulmate mark buzzed with warmth and electricity, you realized you were safe and looking ahead to a bright future.

Quite literally, since your soulmate was like the sun.

© HONGJOONGSPOETRY & BVIDZSOO 2025 - All rights reserved. Copying, editing, reposting or translating our work is not allowed.

[riverns]

⟡ werewolf shauna ( x caretaker f!reader )

genre: sfw + nsfw towards end warnings: mdni, g!p shauna, sub!reader, purposeful low caps, this is mostly season 1 shauna coded, jackie mention, breeding

⟢ werewolf!shauna who was on suppressants before the crash, so was pretty good at hiding it. of course, every whole moon she had to stay home, but, otherwise, no one knew, not even jackie. ⟢ werewolf!shauna who had only entirely transformed one time before the crash, and swore she would never do it again, solely because of how painful it was ⟢ werewolf!shauna who has to shave daily ⟢ werewolf!shauna who has to eat 2x more meat than the average person to stay healthy. her mom is tired of buying so much meat, she's joked about just moving to a farm or something ⟢ werewolf!shauna whose secret got out after the crash. ( you could say the wolf got out of the.... yeah nevermind ) ⟢ werewolf!shauna who feels you're the only person she can trust to watch over her during full moons "fuck- y/n, go- go outside, please." she would plead, curling up into the corner, the attic creaking under her shifting, growing weight. her hands- which, resembled more of claws right now- were covering her eyes, as if she couldn't stand to look at you. "no, shauna, i'm here for you, whether you like it or not." you'd say from your corner, your voice somewhat shaky. shauna couldn't blame you for that, it wasn't every day you saw your teammate growing a mane of hair, a long, bushy tail and ears from the top of her head.

⟢ werewolf!shauna who grows protective over you after you show that you are a helpful caregiver to her. she's always by your side, giving you princess treatment for even the smallest acts. need to take out the shit bucket? she's coming with you and walking in front of you to make sure you don't trip, using her enhanced night-vision to scope out any pesky roots ⟢ werewolf!shauna who produces more heat than other people. she lets you and jackie cuddle with her at night, but no one else. ( she's always big-spooning you ) ⟢ werewolf!shauna who- as she stays out in the wilderness longer, realizes that being in her half-shifted form is much more comfortable than being fully or not at all shifted. the girls eventually get used to her tail, even though she has to watch where she wags it ⟢ werewolf!shauna who brings you bones after she butchers something. sometimes, she chews on them when she feels pent up, but usually, they're more of a thank you for you nsfw under cut

⟢ werewolf!shauna who is a menace when she's approaching a rut. she becomes snappy, spends more time running around in the woods, and gets hungry much faster than usual, which is already really fast. not to mention how clingy she gets with you. ⟢ werewolf!shauna who has an oral fixation, especially towards her rut or when she's in rut. if she isn't chewing on a bone, she's nibbling at your neck, kissing you hungrily, or - her favorite - sucking your tits until she falls asleep ⟢ werewolf!shauna who needs to breed you. the poor puppy gets excited so easily, even if she can just see your arms, legs, or a little inch of your waist- she's hard. she's constantly daydreaming about filling you with her pups ⟢ werewolf!shauna who when she gets the chance, is pinning you down or against something virtually anywhere. she isn't aware of her own strength, and can accidentally hurt you when she gets riled up ⟢ werewolf!shauna who is so talkative when she's fucking you. oh yeah, she doesn't moan, but she whimpers and grunts into your ears. "you're g'na be such a pretty mama" "fuck, you're s'hot- thank you- fuck-" "gonna fill you with m'pups" ⟢ werewolf!shauna who is a slut for praise. call her dog/puppy/mutt and she's already whimpering at your feet, begging for affection

a/n: this is very inspired by @alwxyswlw 's werewolf shauna works, so please give them some luv!! nyway, let me know if you guys want more of werewolf shauna i love writing her :3

[garden0fyves]

joel miller hcs ♡ post-outbreak

sfw

boyfriend!joel who isn’t “entirely sure how to do this relationship thang anymore.” joel had been with someone before, you knew this, but you didn’t mind. joel had told you of tess, how he was with her for a while but it wasn’t how he felt with you. he was stubborn to come about his feelings, yes, but it wasn’t anything you couldn’t work with. you were patient. that’s what ellie thinks makes you two work so well. he’s stubborn, and as he is stubborn you’re just as patient. you work with him. allow him to come to you in your own time.

boyfriend!joel who is losing his mind the first time you get hurt out on patrol. “you weren’t supposed to be there.” he’d murmured into your hair, sighing heavily when you’d only laughed in response. joel knows you can handle yourself and it’s a thing that he admires about you, but it doesn’t stop him from worrying about you and your health. joel sat by your bedside in jackson’s infirmary until you were just about cleared. he spent his time gripping your hand in his whenever he wasn’t sleeping or going to check on ellie.

boyfriend!joel who can’t help but love the way you treat his ellie. he hears the two of you stay up and talk into all hours of the morning. about what? he doesn’t really know besides the fact that you refuse to share what the conversations are about. “why don’t you ask our girl yourself?” you’d told him, smiling so sweetly he couldn’t bring himself to scowl at you for being a brat. you spend most of your time with ellie if not with him or maria. you take her to the library with you, as well as the gardening section you sometimes assist with. if ellie’s on patrol, you’re on patrol, and it warms his heart in a way he can’t quite pinpoint.

boyfriend!joel who loves you because you are his polar opposite and his mediator between him and his daughter. ellie is too rash while joel is too calculated, leaving you to be just right. you’re often the one to make final decisions in the household over the dumbest of things. your favorite memory is the first time ellie officially began to hang out with dina and jesse. joel was worried out of his mind that jesse would try something with ellie, and how desperately you wanted to tell him there was nothing to worry about.

boyfriend!joell who doesn’t know how to completely express his love for you and ultimately fumbles a bit in the early stages of your relationship. you were supposed to go on your second date with joel at his house, he’d said he was going to make dinner and ellie would remain in her little room in the back. you’d spent all day thinking of it, even losing track of books and stressing yourself out over where’d you last put them. maria found it adorable, if anything. she’d told you to go ahead and leave early if you were that excited. you had a few nice items of clothing from the many runs you and some of the others had done, and this little red number was just perfect. you’d practically skipped to joel’s house only for him to not answer when you knocked. you remember ellie coming through and opening the door, eyes widening before cursing joel out loud and turning to pull you into the house. “um, he hasn’t come back from the job he was workin’ yet so maybe we should wait?” you’re positive ellie could feel the embarrassment flowing off of you in waves but you agreed with the younger girl anyway.

boyfriend!joel who’d came in an hour later, flustered and visibly stressed. he found you and ellie curled on his couch watching freaky friday, and his chest had tightened because you looked so beautiful. “(name)- goddammit.” he murmured, running a hand down his face. “ellie,” he paused to look at her, using his chin to gesture for her to leave. “go. please.” he added the please quietly, stress clear on his face. it was probably the only reason she left without a word. “listen, (name), i’m sorr-” but you’d already stood with a soft smile. “no, it’s fine. i’ll go and we can try again another time, okay?” he’d believe you if you hadn’t swallowed thickly, pushing some hair from your face. joel could feel the guilt creeping up his chest and god did it make him sick. “no, darlin’ jus’ give me a minute and i can make us somethin’ to eat. i’m sorry. i like you, sugar i just…it’s been a day ‘m sorry.” you smile genuinely at that and find your feet moving their way towards him. “you like me, miller?” your eyes are gentle when he looks down at you, and joel realizes you make him feel safe. “we can make another day out for this, ‘m not going anywhere ‘cause of one mishap. i was embarrassed, yes, but you were caught up with patrol and such there’s nothing to do about that. we’re fine, joel. i promise.” you press a gentle kiss to his cheek, to the other, then to his lips. “we can try again, hm?”

nsfw

boyfriend!joel who fucks you rough and nasty. his hips are always so rough against yours as his beard tickles the side of you neck while he kisses down it. his fingers dig into your hips and the most you can do is whimper out his name. your eyes roll to the back of your head and youre grappling at his back desperately for any type of leverage. anything to keep your body grounded from the euphoria taking it over. “thas’ it sweet thing. you’re taking me so well, hm?” you can only nod as a sob rips from your throat, legs tightening around your boyfriend’s hips to pull him deeper within you. joel grips your jaw with his free hand, forcing you to look him in his eyes as he fucks you deeper. he pushes you further into the bed, hips slamming against yours at a stuttering pace. “joel- can’t- can’t- feels weird.” you sob out, closing your eyes only for them to flutter open when you cum. you cum hard, fluids spraying against his lower abdomen and some getting on the sheets. joel’s eyes change a certain way when he witnesses you squirt for the first time, and the twitch of his cock tells you he’s far from done.

boyfriend!joel who has a thing for face fucking. joel loves to get you on your knees or have you lay over the side of the bed. he’ll purr sweetly at you, “you gonna take it, pretty girl?” and you eat it up everytime. you’re looking up at him with big eyes, pressing kisses to his thighs and mumbling about how good you can be. he likes to take things slow before he uses his throat by tracing his thumb along your lip before tapping his cock against your lips. “go ahead sweet thing. take what you want.” and you’re already spitting on his cock, stroking him a few times before taking him in your mouth. you move up and down his cock, getting used to the size despite how many times you’ve taken him down your throat. joel knows when you’ve gotten settled because you take him all the way down your throat and hold it, blinking up at him like the most innocent thing in the world. joel prefers to grab your hair, pulling back before fucking into your throat slow and deep. he holds you there despite your sputtering and choking, only pulling out when he feels it’s enough. when joel begins to fuck your throat you can never help but guide your hands down to your cunt. you’re moaning around his dick while tears fall from your eyes, pitiful and shaking hands desperately rubbing at your clit. your hips jut into your hands to no avail, because only joel can make you cum the way you want to. his grip always tightens unbearably when he’s about to cum, and his hips stop deep in your pretty little throat to cum down it. “thas’ my sweet girl. takin’ this dick like it was made for ya.”

boyfriend!joel who loves nothing more than to eat you out. he loves the feeling of your warmth against his mouth, the way your pussy is so responsive to his actions. he loves to run his tongue through your folds before suckling on your clit. he rubs your clit slow and steady, watching your reactions to his ministrations. you cover your eyes with your forearm in an attempt to hide the tears already trying to form in your pretty eyes. joel chuckles at your actions before pulling back and pressing a soft kiss to your clit. “remember you gotta be quiet, pretty.” you nod quickly, whimpering softly because you need him to move. when joel starts he never really knows how to stop. he goes in, fingers stretching you deliciously while his lips work on your clit. he latches on and sucks, pulling the most wanton of moans from your lips. your hips jut against his face with a soft sob and you’re desperately trying to hang on to your already building orgasm. joel doesn’t care though. he only hooks his fingers in your cunt and thrusts, pulling back to spit on your pussy as if you weren’t wet enough. he flattens his tongue against your pussy, peeking up at you with what could only be a smug look in his eyes. “you gonna cum on my face, sweets?” you nod, shaking your head harder when you began to thrust up against his tongue. “gonna-” joel shakes his head. “don’t say it, do it.” and you’re creaming on his face as a cry rips through your throat.

boyfriend!joel who likes to fuck you in one of the check-in stations while the two of you are out on patrol. he rubs his hands down your sides, pinning you against the table of he little shack. you’re looking up at him with a cheeky smile that makes him raise a brow at your attitude. “what? you gonna fuck me in a lil shack ‘cause you can’t hold it? ‘nd you say i’m the slut.” joel doesn’t take attitude and you’re fully aware. trust. so you’re not surprised when his previous loving strokes down your side go rigid. he scoffs airily, “turn around.” you bite down on your lip but comply anyway, undoing your belt to allow him to pull your pants down easier. joel laughs from behind you, murmuring something along the lines of “fuckin’ slut.” and he tugs your pants and panties down in one tug. he runs his middle finger through your folds, tuting softly when he feels the slick build on his finger. “fuckin’ slut was already thinkin’ about getting fucked over this table, huh?” you moan softly, nodding to answer his question. you wiggle your ass out to him, looking over your shoulder with a pout. “please, joel? need it s’bad.” he laughs again this time, though it’s deeper and full of some sort of intent. he doesn’t say anything following his laugh, prompting you to turn around to ask again. “shut it.” joel snaps, thrusting into you in one quick, delicious thrust. your question dies on your lips as you lean forward and moan loud and deep, your pussy clenching tightly around your boyfriend. your eyes water from the sudden intrusion and your toes attempt to curl in your shoes. “mhm, bet you shut the fuck up now.” he hisses in your ear, gripping the back of your head to pull you back up with him. joel’s thrusts are hard and unforgiving, a pace he sets only for when you’ve been a brat or simply asked for it. you sob out his name, begging for him to slow down and that your pussy can’t take it. “can’t take it? didn’t you jus’ try to beg for it? you beg for it then you fuckin’ take it. take what you get sweet girl. ain’t that right?” words are lost to your little brain and you can only muster up a nod to his questions and statements. the hand that isn’t holding you up rests on your clit, giving it a sharp slap before he’s rubbing it like you aren’t already twitching against him. “oh my- fuck!” joel’s thrust only further the deep knot forming in your tummy, making you squirm and twitch in his grip. he chuckles when he feels you clench, too fucking tight, and you’re screaming and sobbing as you cum on his dick. “atta fuckin’ girl.” he lets you go, bending you over to ride out his own orgasm. your fingernails dig into the wooden desk, leaving scratch marks you would have a hard time explaining to the next couple to come out here for inspection. “shit, this pussy gotta be made for me. my pretty slut with a pretty pussy, hm?” you nod against the desk, praying a splinter doesnt find it’s way into your face. “good.” you’re crying out, cumming again as joel’s balls slap against your pussy one final time. he cums deep inside of you, holding your hips down to ensure his seed stays deep inside of your pretty cunt. he pulls out, watching the way his cum oozes out of your pussy. “a sight i ain’ ever getting tired of.” he hums, shoving his fingers back into you.

[dior-luxury]

how would the bllk 11 react to you suddenly giving attention to someone else in bllk? :P

Me Or The Wannabe

( ✧ ) ────── boyfriend stories . drama - no prns .

- [𝐜𝐡.] bllk 11

- [𝐩:𝐬] jealousy . sfw

Note: I only included major bllk 11 character, so sorry!!

The Hot-Headed & Possessive Types

Rin Itoshi - Cold but territorial

He’d act like it doesn’t bother him, but you’d feel his aura shift. He’d start silently staring you down and shooting deadly glares at the other guy. If you keep ignoring him? Expect him to flex his skills in front of you—whether by humiliating the person in a match or proving why he’s the only one you should be looking at.

Shidou Ryusei - Chaotic and unhinged

“Oi, babe~ You tryna make me mad or sumthin’? ‘Cause it’s working~” He’d absolutely start shit—maybe by mocking the other guy, throwing his arm around you, or even challenging them to a 1v1 just to “prove who’s the real alpha.” Might even kiss you in front of them just to stake his claim.

Barou Shouei - Possessive but tsundere

“Tch. Why waste your time on weaklings?” He wouldn’t directly show his jealousy, but his actions would scream dominance—whether by outperforming the guy in training or flat-out ordering you to pay attention to him instead. If you keep ignoring him, he might just pick you up and walk off.

The Competitive & Clingy Ones

Isagi Yoichi - Subtly insecure, but he’ll fight for you.

At first, he’d be confused—“Am I not good enough?”—but then his ego would kick in. Expect him to train twice as hard and absolutely destroy the person you’re giving attention to, just to prove he’s better. Later, he’ll shyly ask, “You still like me the most, right?”

Chigiri Hyoma – Acts cool, but he's pissed.

He’d flip his hair dramatically and pretend he doesn’t care, but his passive-aggressiveness would say otherwise. “Maybe I should change my hairstyle… might make me more interesting to you.” If you don’t reassure him, expect him to race past you in training and “accidentally” bump into the other guy.

Nagi Seishiro – Lazy but needy

He’d straight-up attach himself to you. “Mmm, don’t wanna share you.” If you keep ignoring him, he’ll drag you away somewhere quieter so he doesn’t have to compete. If that doesn’t work, he might start showing off his skills to remind you why he’s the best.

Bachira Meguru – Playful but secretly hurt.

He’d tease you at first—“Nee, are you replacing me~?”—but if it continues, his usual energy will dim, and he’ll go quiet. If you don’t fix it, he might start getting competitive and lowkey challenge the other guy in a match just to re-earn your attention.

The Sweethearts Who Just Want Your Love

Kunigami Rensuke – Confused and hurt.

He’s not the type to get jealous easily, but if he feels like you’re ignoring him too much, he’d straight-up ask, “…Did I do something wrong?” If you reassure him, he’ll trust you, but if not? He’ll pull away a bit, waiting for you to notice him.

Reo Mikage – Overdramatic & clingy.

“Oi, princess, you’re breaking my heart here.” He’d whine playfully at first, but if you keep ignoring him, he’d get pouty. Might even go out of his way to spoil you with gifts or sweet words just to steal back your attention.

Tokimitsu Aoshi – Anxious wreck.

He’d immediately overthink it. “A-Ah, am I boring you? Do you like them more?!” He’d start apologizing for no reason and getting visibly flustered. If you don’t reassure him, he might just spiral into self-doubt mode.

Karasu Tabito – Cocky but secretly insecure.

He’d act unbothered, but the sarcasm would come out tenfold. “Damn, guess I’m not interesting anymore. Should I start juggling soccer balls on one foot to impress you?” If you ignore him too long, he might call you out directly and pull you away, smirking but dead serious.

[hotchnerwrites]

Can I perhaps request Hotch with a BAU reader that is always kind and strong as in the team have never seen them act any different even when bad things happen to reader. One day, an UnSub breaks into their house, and reader ends up very injured and goes to the hospital. After that situation reader co.es right back to work acting as if it never happened and the team gets very concerned about reader but reader keeps telling them everything is fine until one day Hotch and reader are the only ones left at the office late at night and something happens that triggers reader making the think the UnSub that broke into their house is back to get them. Hotch comes out and sees reader having a major panick attack/flashback, but the moment the reader spots him, they try to act like they are not bothered. Hotch ses right through it and hugs reader and reader just breaks down in his arms

What Remains

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x BAU!reader

Word Count: 0.9k

Warnings: SFW, panic attack, home invasion, depiction of violence, flashbacks

A/N: Hi lovely, thanks for your request!! Just changed the beginning a tiny bit, I hope that's ok!!! I hope I described the panic attack with decent accuracy lol, idk if my own experience is similar to that of others. I really loved this idea. If you'd be ok with it, I would honestly love to make this request a full story, a lot longer with more development. Anyway, enjoy the read, and I really hope you like it!! Mwah mwah mwah <3

My requests are open. Send me stuff! :)

It happened fast. Much too fast.

One moment, you were arriving home after a late night, and the next, glass shattered, and your front door was thrown open before you could react. You had put up a struggle— shadows shifted in the dim light, your heartbeat pounded in your ears, and terror clouded your judgement. The training had kicked in eventually. You remembered to protect your abdomen and go for soft tissue.

But you weren’t invincible.

This one had the element of surprise on you. A sharp pain bloomed across your ribs as he threw you against the wall, air leaving your lungs in a strangled gasp. You didn’t back down— you clawed and scratched and screamed at everything around you. But nothing could stop the world from going black when he pistol-whipped you across the temple.

——

They were all there when you came to. Every member of the team. 

Morgan was draped across a chair, eyes filled with worry. JJ sat on your bed, fingers lightly grasped onto yours, with Emily right behind her. Garcia was next to Rossi, fidgeting with her glasses as if she’d rushed there in a panic. Even Reid was there, book in hand, though he wasn’t reading it. 

And, of course— Hotch. Removed and distant, watching from the door. But his eyes remained sharp as if tracking every micro-expression on your face, cataloguing every tiny shift in your posture and breathing.

You forced a smile, ignoring the pain lashing up your sides. “I’m fine,” you had said, voice scratchy from disuse.

The team exchanged glances. No one believed you.

“You went through a home invasion,” Rossi rumbled, “That’s not something you just brush off.”

You shrugged— wincing slightly— forcing out a chuckle. “I’m alive, aren't I?”

Hotch’s jaw tightened. “That’s not the point.”

“I’m really all right,” you repeated with some finality, shutting the conversation down. But you could feel Hotch’s gaze boring into you, even though the others reluctantly let it drop.

——

You returned to work too soon. The team knew it. You knew it.

But you had to. Because if you stayed at home, it meant thinking about what happened. It meant hearing the mirror fracturing, the door slamming, and the rasp of your voice as you screamed for your life. You couldn’t let the fear win. How many times had you said that exact thing to the family of a victim?

So you forced normalcy. Maybe if you said you were fine enough times, you’d actually start believing it. You smiled at Garcia’s ramblings, entertained Derek’s teasing and exchanged theories with Reid.

Eventually, the team forgot. They trusted you were better. You were starting to believe that, too.

But Hotch wasn’t fooled.

He watched you like a hawk, day in and day out. He noted how you avoided talking about the attack, the way you tensed when you heard the word ‘home’. He watched you as you acted the role of someone who had moved on.

He wasn’t buying it.

——

The panic attack hit when you least expected it.

Some stupid sound triggered it; you had no idea what. It could’ve been anything— a door creaking or a chair shifting. Whatever it was, you suddenly weren’t in the BAU anymore.

You were there again. 

The office disappeared. The air was thick, suffocating you as it forced itself down your throat. The walls of your apartment were closing in around you, and you could feel everything and nothing at all. 

Your breath hitched. Your vision tunnelled. Your fingers trembled violently as you gripped your chair to ground yourself. But your body betrayed you, kicking itself into high drive. Your ribs hurt again, the phantom pain searing across your skin like he’d thrown you into the wall all over again.

Then— “Hey.”

A voice. Familiar, dulcet and steady.

Aaron.

You flinched as he neared you, brain oscillating between past and present, fear and reality. But he stopped a few feet away, palms exposed towards you, body language careful and measured.

You suck in a breath, “I’m— I’m fine.”

His brows stitched together. “No, you are not.”

“Please, Hotch. I just— I just need a minute.”

He didn’t move. He just watched. Waiting, letting you decide.

The minute wasn’t nearly enough. In an effort to normalise your breathing, you’d begun hyperventilating. Your head was spinning. This wasn’t working. You weren’t okay, and Hotch knew it. Before you could wave him off, he closed the distance between you, carefully placing his palms on your shoulders. 

The warmth was grounding. Aaron was real. Aaron was solid. The phantom touches crawling across your skin were not.

“Look at me,” he murmured, voice soft but authority evident.

You did what he said. You had no energy to protest. And one look into his coffee-coloured eyes was all it took. The dam broke.

You gulped cool air in, breath catching on a sob you hadn’t meant to let out. But you persevered, taking one breath after another. Aaron didn’t say a word. He didn’t tell you to relax, to calm down, or force you to speak. He just held you, anchoring your consciousness to the present.

Minutes passed, maybe even hours.

When your heartbeat finally settled, Aaron spoke again. 

“You don’t have to keep pretending.”

Your fingers curled around the fabric of his shirt, crumpling it. “I can’t stop,” you whispered.

Aaron’s grip on you tightened, ever so slightly. “Then let me help you.”

For once you didn’t argue.

Thank you for reading!I appreciate any likes/comments/reblogs/follows. Constructive criticism is welcome. Do not plagiarise my content and/or post it anywhere without crediting me.

Dividers by @/cafekitsune

[s1ut-4-rafe]

PUTTIN' OUT | Rafe Cameron

MASTERLIST (One Shot)

Pairing - Rafe x Female Kook! Reader

Summary - She’s the hottest caddy in Figure Eight, and he’s the rich, irresistable golfer who knows exactly what he wants—and it’s her. The tees are high, the chemistry is hotter, he’s about to turn her world upside down—on and off the course.

Word Count - 2745

Content - Heavy angst, intense flirting, lots of teasing, golfer/caddy girl dynamic, suggestive but sfw.

The sun hung high over the country club, its rays beating down on the manicured greens where the usual sounds of golf balls echoed in the air—distant thwacks of clubs, the soft chatter of players, and the occasional curse. 

Today, none of that mattered as much to you. Rafe Cameron and his usual crew—Topper and Kelce—were on the course, and you were the hottest caddy they’d ever had. 

You couldn't help but notice the subtle shift in Rafe's behavior every time he showed up. It was the way he always seemed to get more flirtatious the more he came around. You’d worked here long enough to know the drill: flirt with the members, stay professional, and pocket the tips. But Rafe? He played his game differently.

At first, it had been just casual banter—his usual cocky comments that made your heart skip a beat. But over time it was like he was testing your boundaries, pushing the limits of how far he could go without crossing the line. And the more he did it, the more you couldn’t help but enjoy it. You weren’t some naive girl falling for his charm; you knew how to play along. 

Rafe wasn’t the only one who noticed what you were doing. Topper and Kelce were just as amused by the back-and-forth, occasionally chuckling as they watched their best friend flirt endlessly with you.

You enjoyed teasing him just enough to keep him on his toes. You’d smile just a little too coyly when handing him a drink, lingering just a second too long when you caught his eye. You didn’t need to say anything; your actions spoke louder than any words ever could.

Sometimes, when you bent over to grab his drink from the cooler, the short shirt you had to wear for work would ride up just a little, giving him the perfect view. You couldn't help but notice how his eyes lingered, the way he tried to act like he didn’t look, but you knew better. The way his jaw tightened, the slight shift in his posture—it was all the confirmation you needed. You were playing him, and he was loving every second of it just like you. 

You relished the attention, fully aware of the effect you had on him, and the more you caught him staring, the more you enjoyed it. After all, you had learned how to make him lose focus—just like he had done to you in the past.

The more he came here, the more he got hooked on you. The game wasn’t just about golf anymore—it was about who could outplay the other in this little war of wits and flirtation. You were no longer just the caddy who took their drink orders. You were the one he couldn't take his eyes off, the one who kept him coming back for more, the one who made him lose his focus.

You cruised the course in your golf cart and rolled up to their hole with a cooler of drinks, wearing your best smile and the kind of confidence that only came from knowing you looked damn good in your caddy outfit. 

“Hey, fellas, what can I get ya?” you asked, leaning against the cart just a little too casually.

Topper shot you a wink. “You’re lookin’ good today, as always. You keepin’ cool?”

You flashed Topper a playful smile, your eyes moving over to Rafe, who was already watching you with that familiar, smirking intensity. You could feel the heat radiating off the sun and the way his gaze burned through you like he was trying to figure you out all over again.

"Of course," you replied, voice light but knowing, "Just staying hydrated.”

You could see Rafe shift in his stance, fingers gripping his club a little too tight. 

“Anything for you, Rafe?” you asked, leaning in just a little closer, giving him a chance to make his move. The way he swallowed told you everything you needed to know. He wanted you to get closer. You were close enough to hear the faint rustle of his shirt as he adjusted his position, his eyes never leaving yours.

His voice was low, just a hint of that cocky edge he always wore. “I’ll take whatever you’re offering, sweetheart,” he said, his lips curling into a grin that could melt steel.

You felt a thrill race down your spine at his words. He was playing with fire, but so were you. "Hmm, are you sure about that? You don’t even know what I’m offering yet." You let your words hang in the air, teasing and suggestive, watching as his gaze sharpened with interest.

Kelce, trying to break the tension, let out a loud laugh. “Easy, man, you’re gonna get burned if you keep looking at her like that.” But you could see the amusement in his eyes—he knew exactly what was going on, just like Topper did. They were both enjoying this little game between you two, almost as much as you were.

You grabbed a cold bottle from the cooler, popping the top and handing it to Rafe with a soft brush of your fingers against his. The touch wasn’t accidental—of course it wasn’t—and you saw the way his expression faltered for just a second, his eyes momentarily glazed.

“Thanks,” he said, voice a little rougher than before. You could tell he was trying to keep his cool, but the slight tremor in his hand as he took the bottle told you everything you needed to know.

“You’re welcome,” you said, your voice as sweet as honey. You knew how to keep him hooked, just enough to make sure he came back for more. “Let me know if you need anything else.”

Rafe didn’t say anything right away, but you could see the wheels turning in his head. He wanted more. And you were going to make him work for it.

As you turned to head back to your cart, you caught a glimpse of Rafe out of the corner of your eye. His eyes were on you again, tracking your every move, as if he couldn’t tear his gaze away.

You could hear Rafe’s voice behind you, a little louder now, the cocky edge back in full force. “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen a caddy quite like you,” he called out, making sure you heard every word.

You smirked to yourself, knowing this little game wasn’t over. Not by a long shot.

"Well, Rafe, you haven't seen anything yet," you said, your smirk growing wider. You were in control now. 

As your shift comes to a close, the sun is dipping lower, and you’re unpacking up the cooler and gathering your things. The day’s teasing Rafe lingers in your mind, and just as you start heading toward the parking lot, you hear footsteps behind you.

“Hey,” Rafe’s voice calls out, a little breathless, as if he’s been waiting for the right moment. You turn to find him standing just a few feet away, his usual cocky grin now replaced with something more serious. His eyes are on you, and there's a spark of something more intense than before.

You raise an eyebrow, "What’s up, Rafe?"

He steps closer, that familiar edge of flirtation back in his voice but mixed with a challenge. “You know, you’ve been teasing me all day,” he says, his eyes scanning your outfit—your skirt, specifically. “The way you’ve been bending over, the way you’ve been looking at me, making sure I notice you... you don’t think I’m gonna let you get away with that, do you?”

Your heart races a little at his boldness, but you keep your composure. "What are you gonna do about it, Rafe?" you reply, your voice smooth and knowing.

He smirks, stepping even closer, not quite touching you, but close enough that you can feel the heat from his body. “I’m challenging you to a game of mini-golf. One-on-one. The winner gets... whatever they want.”

He lets the implication hang in the air, making sure you understand exactly what he means.

You lean back, arms crossed, giving him a playful smirk. “Oh really?” you ask, cocking your head.

His smile widens, clearly amused by your response. “Really. If you win I’ll give you exactly what you want, sweetheart,” he says, drawing the word sweetheart out in a way that feels both daring and intimate. "No limits. No hesitation."

A flicker of excitement sparks in you at the thought of what you might be able to ask for. You keep your gaze locked on his, the challenge now fully in motion.

“Well,” you reply slowly, “I’m game. But don’t say I didn’t warn you—I'm not here to lose.”

Rafe chuckles, the sound low and teasing. “Neither am I.”

The two of you head to the mini-golf course, the playful competition already beginning as you both tease each other during the game. As you play, you keep it lighthearted, but the tension is undeniable. Every time you sink a tricky shot, Rafe can’t help but throw out a compliment or a flirtatious comment.

“Nice shot. You’re good at this,” he remarks, a little breathless. His eyes flick to your lips and back to your eyes, making it clear he’s enjoying the game in more ways than one. “But I am still ahead.”

You flash him a mischievous grin, the challenge now fully alive in the air between you two. “Not for long,” you reply, voice low and confident. “I’ll be taking my prize, Rafe.”

He leans against his club for a moment, letting his gaze linger on you, clearly amused by your confidence. “You really think you can win? Just like that?” He smirks, crossing his arms and watching you line up your next shot. “You’re gonna have to try a lot harder if you want to beat me.”

You could feel the words almost slipping from his lips, and for a moment, his usual cocky tone wavers, just enough to make you want to push him a little further. "We'll see about that," you murmur, eyes glinting with a teasing challenge.

As you approach your ball, you notice Rafe watching you intently, his focus not entirely on the game anymore. You take your time lining up the perfect shot, deliberately slow, making sure he sees every movement you make. His gaze never leaves you, his lips curling into an amused smile as his eyes flick to your legs and then back to your face.

"Taking your sweet time, huh?" he calls out, his voice hushed but playful like he’s caught in the trap of wanting to see you win just to keep the tension alive. "You really think I’ll let you catch up?"

You glance at him with a raised brow, your lips curling into a sly smile. "I don’t need much time, Rafe. I’m just setting up for the best part.” Without missing a beat, you sink the ball into the hole with ease. "Boom. Another point for me."

Rafe lets out a low whistle, clearly impressed. “Alright, alright,” he grins, his fingers lightly tapping the side of his club, the competitive fire in his eyes flickering. “Guess you’re not as bad as I thought.”

You roll your shoulders back, stepping up for the next hole. “Not bad? You’ve got a lot to learn, Rafe. I’m only just warming up.”

He watches you carefully, his smile tightening into something more focused. “I don’t know,” he says with an exaggerated shrug, “I think you’ve already given me a run for my money.”

You sink another shot, this one a little trickier, and his reaction is immediate. “Damn, you’re really making this interesting,” he says, voice tinged with admiration. “But even if you keep hitting shots like that, I’m still in the lead. That’s gotta sting, huh?”

You feign a frown, giving him a playful pout as you walk over to the next hole. “You think I’m worried?” you ask with mock disbelief. 

He chuckles, but there’s something deeper in his eyes now, a mix of desire and challenge that only makes you more determined. He leans in just a little, his voice taking on a teasing edge. “What’s your plan, sweetheart? You gonna keep bending over like that to distract me?” He smirks, a glint of mischief flashing in his gaze. “Because if that’s the case, we might as well forget about the game.”

You meet his eyes, the playful banter now thick with something more, something that makes the game feel secondary. A rush of heat runs through you, but you don’t let it show—at least, not completely.

"Wouldn’t want to give you too much of an advantage," you reply, keeping the teasing tone, but with a challenge of your own. "But if you’re that easily distracted, I might just take advantage of it."

He leans closer, almost as if daring you to make the next move. “Don’t play with me, babe. You’ve got my attention now.”

You smile, holding his gaze for a beat longer than necessary, feeling the tension between you two stretch to its limit. “Guess you’ll have to keep your focus, Rafe. The game’s still not over.”

His lips curl into a devilish grin, and it’s clear he’s not backing down. “We’ll see who’s got the focus in the end.”

You both continue through the course, the back-and-forth banter growing more heated with each hole. 

As you both line up for the final shot, the air between you two is thick with tension. He looks at you, not quite smiling anymore, his gaze intense and challenging.

“You ready for this?” he asks, voice steady, but you can hear the underlying hint of something more, something deeper.

You nod, matching his intensity with your own. “I’ve been ready all along, Rafe.”

As the last shot looms, you both line up for the final hole. You take your shot first, the ball rolling just a little too far off course to make it. A sigh escapes your lips, a mock-frustrated sound, but your eyes are still locked on Rafe.

“Guess it’s your turn,” you say, voice dripping with playful submission. "Good luck, Rafe."

He steps up with a cocky smile, rolling his shoulders as he lines up the ball. "Don’t worry, babe," he says, his voice casual but confident. "This one’s in the bag."

With a swift, smooth swing, Rafe sinks the ball in one clean shot. He throws his club aside, his gaze turning to you immediately, almost predatory.

“Well, looks like I win,” he says, his smirk deepening. "And since you promised me whatever I want…"

You stand there, the anticipation making your pulse race, every fiber of your being drawn to him. You cross your arms, raising an eyebrow. "You sure you know what you want, Rafe?" you ask, voice teasing but also giving him full control of the moment.

He takes a step closer, the tension between you two crackling. “I’ve known what I’ve wanted for a while,” he says, his voice low and rough, sending a shiver down your spine. “I just didn’t think you’d make it this difficult to get it.”

A shiver of excitement and something else – something more primal – shoots through you at the way he’s looking at you. It’s all heat, a pull between you both that’s undeniable.

"You’re really making me work for this, huh?" he says, his voice dropping into something darker, more insistent.

“I’ll give you exactly what you want, Rafe. You just have to say it," you murmur, your voice dropping to match his intensity, every word laced with a quiet promise.

Rafe’s eyes flicker over you with that knowing, predatory smile, his gaze never wavering from yours. “Let’s go,” he smirks, his hand wrapping around yours as he pulls you toward his truck.

The drive is a blur, his hand never straying far from you. Every touch, every glance, sends sparks coursing through your skin, making it impossible to ignore the heat that’s been building between you two all night. 

He parks the truck, the engine still humming in the silence between you, and when he turns to face you, it feels like the world stops. His gaze is heated, and intense, and you know, without a doubt, that what’s next is inevitable.

But before either of you can make a move, you share a lingering look—a quiet acknowledgment that the night, in all its anticipation, has only just begun.

I don’t know how I feel about this one you guys lmk what you think??

[starconstruction]

Birthday Bash

Yandere Karina x Male Reader

woohoo, first actual sfw fic.

Word Count:1572

The room was dark.

Too dark.

Like always.

You woke up, hands firmly locked against the pipe on the floor, body laying against the hard concrete floor save for a tiny sheet and a singular pillow. You couldn't see, sat in the void all alone.

You didn't know if you'd rather be alone or with her, your captor, the one who controlled you. Claiming grandiose delusions of love, trapping you in this room for your own safety.

Escaping was an impossibility like this, perhaps that's why she did it. Make you know it was hopeless, keep you in the worst conditions possible and they could never leave.

Bread and circus's only work for the masses after all.

The smell was just bad enough to be unable to block out, an ever lingering torment that wasnt going to cease.

Time was completely gone.

Your life was entirely gone.

A creaking door sounded out, gulping down saliva as she walked down the steps. The light was stinging, tears welled up in the crevices of your eyes.

She appeared in front of you, that familiar look. That fucking look. Her smile was curved, eyes soft and pointed. It was all a ruse. Her outfit was monochromatic, all black as it attempted to blend into the surroundings.

"Morning baby, what do you want for breakfast today?" She asked, voice soft. Full of sucrose and sickly. Her knees dropping down to face you.

"Nothing." You said, voice sharp.

Karina's hand grabbed your chin, harsh enough to send a warning. Her head tilted slightly aswell, eyes furrowing just a bit. The soap on her hand being the only pleasant scent in this entire room.

"Such a fighter, but I guess that's what made me fall in love with you." She said, taking a deep breath.

"But, I was hoping you'd break by now. So I could be showering you in gifts, love, affection. Why are you being so difficult Y/N?" The question made you think for a second, filling you with an anger that threatened to blow up and consume you whole.

"Difficult?! I'm the one that's difficult? You ruined my fucking life Karina, trapping me here. Pulling me from my job, my school and my family all because I rejected you?! Fucking psychopath! I will-" Her hand clamped down onto your face, the rest of the words falling on deaf ears as they fell away in a dying whisper.

"Ah, well. That quite hurts Y/N, I thought you'd see the positives of this by now. Anyways, happy birthday. Think about your actions and maybe we can celebrate, no breakfast for you." Before you could object she disappeared, leaving you alone.

In the dark.

With just your own thoughts.

Again.

Birthday? How long has it been? If only you remembered when she whisked you away. Then you could piece it together, the presence of the handcuff felt stronger now. Like a physical representation of all the time lost, you couldn't give in.

-

The ever clawing hunger was all that you could focus on, waiting for Karina's inevitable return. And you wouldn't have to wait long.

The light returned, the demon returned. She looked a bit happier now, a pop in her step as she stood in front of you.

"Wanna be better for me now? I have a day prepared for us, you can leave the basement for the first time in so long. You want that right?" Those words, god they sounded good. Too good.

You couldn't give in, it'd be an insult to everyone you lost.

"No. Go to hell Karina." You growled, she was lucky you were restrained. Or was she? You haven't been able to work out or lift a muscle in months, she'd absolutely win.

"Come on, it'd be so fun sweetie." She tried to reason with you.

"No." You replied quickly.

"Fucking hell. I just want to celebrate my boyfriends birthday, but you want to be difficult. Tell you what, you can stay here and be defiant. But trust me, you will regret it." The words sent a shiver down the back of your spine, the tone she said it in so sweet compared to the words.

"I'm not going to regret shit." You yelled back.

"Sure?" She tested you, crouched down right next to you. Inches away, gazing holes into your eyes. Each syllable thick with amusement.

"Sure." You spat back.

"Well, I guess I just gotta take a visit to your parents. Maybe with a knife?" The words made you shiver, heart pounding. She started to walk away.

"Wait!" You yelled out, she didn't stop moving.

"No! Karina come back!" She still didn't stop.

"Karina please I'll do anything! Just leave my family alone!" She stopped.

"Anything? So you'll come with me?" Her mood shifted at once, smile returning.

"Yes! Just.. Don't hurt them." You sighed, calming down slightly. The resentment you grew harsher, hatred going deeper.

"Awee! Thank you, wish I didn't have to threaten you. But I'm happy either way, let's get you showered and ready."

-

Karina forced you into her arms, perfume filling your nose. Sat on her couch, present in your hands. You shuddered at the prospect of opening it she was so unpredictable. Your escape was inches away, but somehow it felt unreachable.

The room was super decorated, multi-coloured balloons pressed against the roof. Red tinsel laid neatly wrapped across every surface, a pile of presents rested on the ground. It all felt like a cruel mockery, everything your friends would have done.

What were your friends doing? The thought crossed your mind countless times, did they miss you? That was the only thing keeping you sane.

"Open it, you'll really like it." Her hand rubbed your hair, raking through it with a soft obsession.

Your hands gripped onto the decorated paper, tearing it open as you revealed the gift. A TV remote? The device laid in your hands, a reminder of the world before.

"I was thinking, if you be nice. I'll let you have everything in the world, starting with this." She whispered into your ear.

You didn't know how to respond. The fear of your family's safety lingering on the forefront of your mind, but you aren't property to be owned.

"I, can't." You said quietly.

Her nails dug into your arms, warning you to be careful of your next words.

"Stop thinking of your friends, I hate how much of your head they take up! I'll get rid of them if I must." She was once again angry.

Her threats started to make you worried, she was completely insane.

The rest of the birthday was tense, but you survived just about.

-

Karina was asleep next to you, eyes closed softly. She gave you the "luxury" of sleeping in her bed instead of the basement, was this a test? Either way there was no time to look a gift horse in the mouth.

You slipped out of her bed, placing a pillow into her arms. Each step felt terrifying, quiet taps against the carpet. Taking deep breaths, composing yourself.

Escaping was imminent, your friends were going to be so excited to see you. Your mother is going to tear up, Karina wasn't going to have a vice on you anymore.

The thought made you smile.

Your heart pounded.

The bedroom door was open.

Karina was asleep.

You had to go, now.

Your mind raced as you took steps down the stairs, each one careful and calculated. Touching the floor. Three steps from the door, three steps from freedom.

Your hand reached the handle, there was several locks. Trying to figure them out, grabbing the key and twisting the first one.

Then the hatch lock, and finally a... Keypad? Uh oh.

"Honey? Get away from the door." She called, stepping down slowly.

Your heart pounded, this couldn't end like this.

Your hand fumbled with the keypad, you had to guess. Your birthday?

The terminal went green and the door unlocked. The sight filled you with primal dread, countless acres of trees in front of you. Only trees.

"Fuck." You muttered, taking off.

You ran, Karina was right behind you. Sounds of two footsteps could be heard throughout the night, echoing against every leaf that hung around you.

"HONEY! IF YOU TURN AROUND I WON'T HURT YOU!" She shouted, that had to be a lie.

Your breath started to quicken, muscles starting to burn, the months of solitude had taken any ounce of sportiness.

Karina tackled you, a loud thud rung out. Head banging into the mud with a painful yelp.

She was on top of you, knife pointed at your neck. A sadistic smile on her face that was illuminated by the moonlight.

"Got ya! Why would you try to run?" Her voice was unstable, shaky, insane.

You spoke slowly, scared stiff. "Get off me!"

"No no no, how about this. I bring you back, you play along. And we can pretend this didn't happen?" She was lying.

You spat on her.

"Oh, wrong choice." You had no time to react, knife plunging into your leg. The pain was agonizing, excruciating, you moaned out in agony.

"FUCK! CRAZY!" You screamed, she slapped you harshly.

"You are mine, forever Y/N." She grabbed your ankle, dragging your face against the mud. Scratching your face on loose rocks and twigs.

You passed out from the pain, she won this battle.

You were hers.

[agneaul]

sylus x reader ♡ wc: 1.4k ♡ cw: mostly sfw, suggestive maybe, reader is kidnapped & tied up (not by sylus) gn reader, no gendered language ♡ minors dni

getting the hang of writing his character is fun ₍^. .^₎⟆

You weren't even in the N109 Zone to see Sylus. Some contacts needed checking up on; just a few hours, tops. If you were lucky, you'd be in and out right under his nose.

Luck, however, has not been on your side this evening.

It's more embarrassing than anything. Some low profile thugs got the upper hand, caught you off guard. "What have I told you about being vigilant in the N109 Zone?" You can already hear the lecture; your eyes even roll beneath the scratchy blindfold.

There's only two of them. They're sloppy; with your training you should have been able to fold them in seconds. From what you've been able to gather from their bumbling dialogue, they're just grunts working at the bottom of a long, ravenous food chain.

You focus on your breathing. Think. They're in and out of the room, you've heard the door open and close eight times now. There's a staircase - about 13 steps if you heard right. Your wrists are tied behind your back; the tips of your fingers tingle with the lack of circulation. If you can bend at the right angle, you can get at the pistol you keep in-

Clamoring from the other side of the door makes you jump. Indistinct yelling, the voices of your kidnappers overlap. One of them runs up the stairs, his footsteps shake the floor. He's right outside the door - he's panting - you can picture his hand on the knob. He shouts, it sounds like a surprised, hoarse bark. Then, the earsplitting sound of bone meeting a hard surface.

Your whole body tenses, straining to make out the story of what's happening on the other side of the door. Strangled, pained sounds. Two gun shuts shake the walls. In the darkness of your blindfold, your hearing is uncomfortably sharper; a gun clatters to the ground, you hear it skid against the wood floor. One of the grunts is cursing, then wheezing and choking, before you hear what can be described as wind howling or waves crashing. It's a sound that conjures a memory of a specific person.

All goes quiet.

A delusional part of you prays that your imagination is just overactive, especially in the pitch dark. A stupider part of you hopes it just Luke and Kieran.

The door creaks open, and a familiar aura floods the room. It's unmistakable. Heavy and chilling. Slow, deliberate steps that move forbiddingly closer, smoky cologne that lingers on your clothes and hair for an infuriatingly long time - Sylus.

Of course.

Ironically, you're more fearful of your savior than you were of your captors.

You can't decide if you're relieved or pissed that he's come to your aid. Having to see his smug face, listen to him mockingly scold you."Really, kitten?" he'd say. Your fists clench in their binds; you doubt you will be able to resist the urge to punch him. The more primitive part of you is terrified. Your palms go clammy, the hair on the back of your necks stands up.

The heavy footsteps come to a halt, right in front of you. Though you can't see, you still crane your neck up to 'look' at his face. This earns you a chuckle, at least. When he finally speaks, there's levity in his voice.

"My, my. You've certainly gotten yourself tangled up in some yarn, kitten."

You puff an irritated sigh from your nose, picturing dragon's smoke curling out of your nostrils intimidatingly. If only. You give your restraints another tug, squirm around a little dramatically as if to say, "ahem."

Sylus hums, low and rumbly like a brewing storm. "I have half a mind to keep you like this…" Your pulse quickens unpleasantly at the thought. You hope he can make out your furrowed brow through the blind fold. He clicks his tongue, drawls, "It would be an effective way to keep you out of trouble…"

Without warning, he hooks a finger under your blindfold and pulls it up. The light is low, but you still squint as your pupils dilate and adjust to the light. Bleary eyed, you blink hard a few times to bring the world back into focus. Sylus's broad frame looms above you, fuzzy at the edges.

He's the picture of nonchalance. Hand tucked into the pocket of black dress pants, smirk playing at his lips - as if he didn't just kill two men. Well, all in a days work for Onychinus's ruthless leader, right?

"There you are." His tone is nauseatingly fond, his smile gleams in the dim. Sylus has the courtesy to tuck your hair behind your ear. Charming. With your eyes now free, you shoot daggers at him. His own eyes crinkle affectionately. Long fingers linger along your jaw, tracing over the makeshift gag. "This suits you." He hums, laughs at your glare. Indignant, you buck your chin out of his hold. He acquiesces wordlessly and unties your gag. The spit soaked fabric now cold, you cringe at the feeling.

"How'd you find me?" Your own voice is hoarse, scratchy at the edges.

"Are those really the first words out of your mouth? Mind your manners, sweetie." Sylus leans back, crosses his arms over his chest. Not a speck of blood on him. He sighs, tilts his head and looks at you as if you really are a kitten that's found it's way into trouble. "This whole trip to rescue you was really out of the way, you've derailed my entire afternoon."

You bite your tongue, holding back whatever hissy reply you would have spat. You'd rather not test your luck. "My apologies." You try best to drain the venom from your tone. You level him with the sincerest look you can muster, neck craning to meet his red gaze. "Thank you, Sylus."

"You're-" You don't let him finish.

"It's just so convenient that you were able to find me so quickly…" You squint at him. Sylus only smirks, giving away nothing. You press on, "I have a feeling that someone may have sent a certain rusty bird to spy on me."

"Don't be so presumptuous, dear." He pinches your check (you're starting to think he's taking advantage of your inability to swat him away.) "Shouldn't Onychinus's leader be aware of all the comings and goings in the N109 Zone?" You get a few words of protest out before he interrupts you, "If you don't like the idea of Mephisto following you, then I could implant the same tracking software into you? It's small, unobtrusive. You'd barely notice it."

"Why do I feel like you're actually trying to sell me on this?" You say with a roll of your eyes.

"Oh? Is my pitch working?"

You change the subject; wriggle in your binds again. Sylus sighs, not unkindly. "Yes, yes. I climbed the tower and now I can rescue the princess." His voice rolls down your spine.

You hide your blush underneath your mouthyness. "Oh, shut up. It's not really me they're after, but the Aether core."

"Those idiots had no idea."

"Then…" you draw a blank "what use am I to them?"

"Your use is in your value-"

You cut Sylus off again, "But if they didn't know about my heart then-"

Sylus cuts you off this time, grasping your chin between his thumb and forefinger. "Your value to me. Keep up, sweetie." You blink up at him.

Oh…could that really be it? You try to question him further, but he squishes your cheeks together. Firm, but gentle. Playful, even. He continues, still holding your face in a pout. "They used you to lure me out. Unluckily for them, however, they were grossly unprepared for what they'd be up against."

"Onychinus' leader is very strong."

"Flattery will get you no where." In a splits second decision, you snap your jaw to bite his finger. He's too quick, of course, your canines just graze him. "Neither will that." He chides.

"What will, then?"

With a wave of his wrist, Sylus frees your ankles. His evol grazes down your arms, untying your wrists. You rub at the sore flesh, flex your stiff hands. Sylus offers you his own. His hand is warm, achingly familiar. His fingers encircle your wrist. Swiftly, he pulls you to his chest, his arms wrap around you. His voice is close to your ear, "Tell me next time you're in town."

[tmbatcat]

Im losing my shit

sketch v

[milkymora]

blue hour. ellie williams x f!reader.

✧ it’s your birthday and ellie has planned a cozy movie night just for the two of you in a house outside jackson.

✧ wc: 629. genre: fluff & suggestive (sfw). tlou navigation.

the sound of wet twigs and brenches cracking within the fireplace mixed with the noise of the tv, that was displaying one of the movies ellie picked for the two of you.

it was a cold winter’s evening, the sun had just disappeared behind the mountains in the horizon outside the big window next the couch you were sat on, the orangy colors slowly fading into cooler shades that colored the white walls around you of a pretty indigo.

there was a mild rain tapping on the roof’s tiles too, signing the beginning of the night you’ve been daydreaming about since weeks, months maybe.

you inhale the sweet smell of hot cocoa, holding the mug with both hands to warm your palms up, before taking a short sip of the beverage and pleasingly sigh at its delightful taste.

your nape goes to rest against ellie’s shoulder, making yourself more comfortable on her lap and inside the fuzzy blanket your bodies were wrapped with.

tilting your head more into the crook of her neck, your eyelids close; the rhythm of her heartbeats calms you down so much you’re not sure you’re gonna make it to the end of the movie.

“ellie,” you whisper, lifing your chin of a couple inches to peck her jaw, then her neck.

her slim fingers travel on your thigh, thumbs occasionally drawing circles on them, returning the goosebumps you gave her to you. “mh?” she hums.

“i’m really questioning your tastes right now.” you chuckle, before feeling her breath tickling your ear as her mouth touches your cheek. “what the hell is this movie?” you add with another chuckle, this time a little louder than the previous one.

“a piece made only for the sharpest minds. it’s normal you don’t get it.” her witty reply makes you pose the still steaming mug on the little table her feet are resting on, just to grab a cushion from the other side of the couch and suddenly hit her face with it.

“say that again, i dare you.” your offended tone is betrayed by the smile that runs your face from ear to ear, that widens up even more after hearing her muffled laughter. “you can’t be nice to me even on my birthday, aren’t you ashamed of yourself?” you hit her one more time. “you should be.”

ellie doesn’t stop laughing for a good moment, using her arms to cover her face from all the knocks you keep giving her– not until she snatches the object away from your grip, pushing your back against the couch and straddling you, holding you still on the spot with her hands. “i’ll never be ashamed of being a lil’ mean. especially if you like it.”

her low tone sends a shiver down your spine, although many more come when her face drops down towards yours, tilting to the right, lips meeting yours.

the smooch of your lips detaching makes you red, green eyes looking right into you with that little smirk that makes your thighs rub against each other every time.

“so, birthday girl,” she begins, you giving her full attention. “since the movie isn’t of your liking,” voicing this part a bit bitterly, “wanna do something else?”

“like what?” you barely give her time to finish her question, dilated pupils gazing her up and down.

noticing the familiar flickering in your eyes, her smirk comes back. she eyes the tv, then you. you see her lose her gaze in a spot on the floor for an instant, biting the inside of her cheek, seemingly pondering.

“tomorrow’s monday. we’re on patrol.” she tries, “whose birthday is it?” you deadpan. “you hinted it. now i want it.” you add.

“better not hear you complaining ’bout sore legs tomorrow morning then.”

[shuenkio]

𝐽𝑢𝑠𝑡 𝐹𝑜𝑟 𝑌𝑜𝑢 | 니키 — 엔.하.이.픈 🍀

Paring : Ni-Ki X M!reader

Cw: Curse words, mentions of dick, dick play, No lustful just pure affection love.

Synopsis: After the long exhausted day at work, your boyfriend and you decide to cuddle together, chilling in a cozy bed in one embrace.

Genre: Suggestive — please don't read if you're sensitive!

Non proof read | Eng is not my 1st

This is a work of fanfiction, do not throw unnecessary tantrums on this nsfw/sfw blog. ©Shuenkio

The door clicked open, the keycard sliding out of the lock with a quiet beep. A familiar figure stepped inside, shoulders slumped, exhaustion written in the slow drag of his steps. Ni-ki barely had the energy to kick off his shoes properly, but he did it anyway, huffing out a quiet sigh as he glanced up.

M/n was already there, waiting for him with open arms, though his posture was just as drained. No words needed to be exchanged—Ni-ki simply stepped forward, pressing a slow, grounding kiss to M/n’s forehead before pulling back just enough to look him in the eye.

“How was your day?” His voice was low, casual, like he already knew the answer but wanted to hear it anyway.

M/n hummed, shifting slightly before answering. “It was fine. Just… long.”

Ni-ki nodded, fingers brushing lightly against M/n’s wrist as they both stood there in the quiet. “Same.”

A beat of silence. Comfortable, understanding.

“Eat?” M/n asked, tipping his head slightly.

“Yeah, at work.” Ni-ki’s lips quirked slightly, a barely-there smirk. “You?”

“Mm.” That was answer enough.

Another pause. Neither of them were particularly talkative, but that was never a problem. The silence never felt awkward—it was just them, existing together.

Then M/n shifted, tilting his head toward the bedroom. “Cuddle?”

Ni-ki’s expression softened immediately. “Obviously.”

No further words were needed as M/n turned, leading the way, their movements slow and easy. The bed dipped as they both collapsed onto it, limbs tangling instinctively. The TV flickered on, but neither of them paid much attention. M/n buried his face into Ni-ki’s chest, and Ni-ki let his fingers drift lazily through his hair, the motion soothing.

A soft sigh. A barely-there hum.

They were both exhausted, but together, they were home.

M/n's fingers traced idle patterns on Ni-ki's bare chest as they continued to watch the movie, his touch lingering on his skin like a gentle caress. With a soft, almost subconscious sigh, he let his hand drift lower, until his fingertips brushed against the base of his flaccid member.

The gesture was intimate, yet somehow innocent—a habit that had become second nature to his over the months. He didn't do it with any ulterior motive, but simply because it felt right, because it allowed gim to feel close to him in a way that was uniquely theirs.

Ni-ki drew in a sharp breath as he felt m/n's delicate fingers brushing against his most sensitive area, his touch light and teasing yet undeniably intimate. A shiver ran down his spine, and he could feel his body beginning to stir, to awaken in response to his gentle ministrations.

And at some point, it made sense, even though they've been together for months and even known each other for almost years now, it was always a little hard for Ni-ki to feel his precious boyfriend's hands on him. The way he touched him always made him feel good, whether it was innocent or not, but of course, he would never tell him.

As m/n circled his fingers around him, m/n felt a familiar flutter of nerves and excitement in his stomach. Being with Ni-ki always had that effect on him—it was like a constant dance of confidence and insecurity, a mix of boldness and bashfulness that only he could bring out in him.

After what it feels like an eternity kiss, Ni-ki chuckles softly as you settle yourself comfortably in his lap, your playful antics continuing without any inhibition. He's used to your carefree and sometimes oblivious touches, finding it oddly comforting rather than arousing. Your fingers dance along his shaft, toying and teasing, as if it were the most natural thing in the world to fondle his manhood so casually.

Every so often, you'll lean down and take the tip of his cock into your mouth, suckling on it for a few moments before pulling back, lost in thought as you flip through the TV channels. Ni-ki just smiles and runs his fingers through your hair, not letting the sensation phase him.

As you continue your careless touching and occasional suckling, Ni-ki pays no mind to the distraction. He focuses on channel surfing, trying to find an interesting movie or show for them to watch together. The whole scene feels domestic and comfortable, a perfect blend of intimacy and everyday relaxation.

Throughout all of this, despite the seemingly sexual nature of your actions, the mood remains calm and subdued. For Ni-ki, this level of casual, affectionate touching is as natural as holding hands or cuddling. It's a testament to the deep bond and comfortability you two share in your relationship.

Niki looks down at you with a warm, loving smile as you sit lost in thought, his long cock still nestled comfortably in your mouth.

"I love you m/n you've no idea " he says softly, his voice filled with genuine affection and adoration. It was so sudden that catches you off guard. Ni-ki's hand continues to gently stroke your hair and cheek as he speaks, his touch tender and loving. He doesn't seem to even register the fact that you have his dick in your mouth, so at ease he is with your intimate, careless touching.

Lost in finding the perfect show for you both to watch, you simply hum softly in response to his sweet declaration, the vibration of your throat gently massaging his shaft. Niki just smiles, finding even that sensation more endearing than arousing in this moment.

"This is everything I could ever want," he murmurs, pulling you a little closer and nuzzling your hair.

"Just being together like this, in any way that feels right to you. I'm so grateful to have you in my life, M/n."

"I love you too"

🍀 — I'd be empty without you @angelsfat3 for creating this fiction 😔❤️ mwah mwah

Credit to pics and dividers.

Funtalk: Any feedback is welcome ;-;

If you are interested in suggestive Ni-ki you can talk to me 🧘🏻‍♂️ remember this is fictional, he's 19 now there's no intimate activity such as smut. But if you want one i need everyone to comment 🤖

[pukefactory]

I want Shrimpo x Reader, where Shrimpo fall in love to reader but he didn't want to admit it. Then he drink love potion and become clingy and lovely for Reader

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི AN AGGRESSIVE KIND OF LOVE ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺

.ᐟ Summary: Shrimpo Accidently Drinks A Love Potion, And Now His Eyes Are On You

.ᐟ Character(s): Shrimpo The Shrimp (Dandy’s World), Glisten The Mirror (Dandy’s World)

.ᐟ Reader pronouns: Not Specified

.ᐟ Genre: Short Story, SFW

.ᐟ Word Count: 405

.ᐟ Warning(s): None - Completely Safe!

.ᐟ Image Credits: @aabvse

Shrimpo didn’t like you.

That was a fact. A universal truth, like the sky being blue or the sun rising in the morning. Shrimpo hated everything, and he had made it abundantly clear that you were no exception.

“I HATE YOUR FACE! AND YOUR HAIR! AND YOUR SHIRT! AND—“

Yeah, yeah. You got it. He hated you. That’s why it was so weird when today, after chugging a suspiciously pink drink (one he had absolutely not read the label for), Shrimpo had latched onto you like a barnacle.

“YOU'RE SO CUTE!” he shrieked, pressing his cheek against your arm. “I LOVE YOU SO MUCH!!”

You stared at him. Blinked. “What?”

“I SAID I LOVE YOU!!”

Oh, this was bad. This was really, really bad.

You had been sitting outside the Gardenview cafeteria, just trying to enjoy your lunch when Shrimpo had stomped up to your table, yelling about how he had stolen—no, “BORROWED”—some fancy drink from one of the other Toons. And then he’d downed it in one go, smugly declaring, “TASTES AWFUL. I HATE IT.”

Except now, five minutes later, he was clinging to your side, batting his eyes at you like some kind of love-struck fool.

“I HATE EVERYONE ELSE, BUT YOU?? OH, YOU'RE PERFECT! PERFECT PERFECT PERFECT!!”

You shoved a hand against his forehead, trying to put some distance between you. “Okay, seriously, what was in that drink?”

“WHO CARES? NOT ME! I LOVE YOU!”

Okay. This was a nightmare. A fever dream. Some kind of cosmic joke. You glanced around, hoping to find someone—anyone—who could help. Instead, you locked eyes with Glisten, who sat at a nearby table, sipping from a teacup with a delighted smirk.

“Oh dear,” Glisten said, oh-so-innocently. “Seems like someone got into my ‘Lovestruck Lemonade.”

You gawked. “Your what?!”

“IT'S THE BEST THING EVER!!” Shrimpo yelled, nuzzling against your arm. “I LOVE YOU! LET'S GET MARRIED!”

You turned back to Glisten, horrified. “How long does it last?!”

“Hmm…” Glisten tapped his chin, feigning deep thought. “Oh, a couple of hours. Or days. Maybe forever. Who can say?”

You groaned. Shrimpo was still clinging to you, still loudly professing his love, still very much under the influence of that ridiculous potion.

“I HATE THAT I DIDN’T REALIZE SOONER!” he continued dramatically. “I HATE THAT I WASTED SO MUCH TIME NOT LOVING YOU!!”

You buried your face in your hands. This was going to be a long, long day.

Writing commissions are now open! I will create nearly any type of story, including OC x Canon or general imagine-style pieces. Please refer to the pricing details below.

Payment is required before I begin working on your commission. PayPal only.

If you’re interested, please send me a DM. Refer to my pinned post to see what fandoms I write for, as well as any additional information.

[jazzy-art-time]

Doggy!

Some silly artwork for my friend @event-horiizon 's adoptable! Liked the design so I drew it heehoo [ See the Adopt here! ]

[killishin]

— ◇ jjk men when you draw them.

pairings: nanami kento, gojo satoru, geto suguru

category: fluff

content warning: suggestive themes, sfw

a/n: i love when men support their partners in their art, its literally so sweet. saying so as an artist myself. wrote this in the dead of the night so not proofread. hope everyone enjoys :)

dividers by @cafekitsune

masterlist

NANAMI KENTO

he would have all your art and pieces memorized. he would be the one who'd give detailed compliments— strokes, composition and a hell lot of 'you're the best, darling'. he would definitely have favourites, and god forbid you ask him to choose— he'd be going back and forth, trying to choose because you won't accept the 'all are beautiful answer', only to mess with him.

also i believe, he would also have tried it out. just some doodling, some sketching perhaps— turns out he is good. he can grasp the basics quite fast and he finally understands why art is such a part of you. best believe all he ever draws is you.

now, the often times you draw him, he's a mess. a sputtering mess even though you've made like a ton of portraits of him, in every medium you knew and still he blushes.

"sweetheart why don't you draw something better?" he'd suggest as he tries to maintain the small smile on his face that was itching to widen into a full blown grin. he was all mushy inside.

"define better." you rolled your eyes at him, a knowing smile adorning your lips.

"i don't know— i guess something more... captivating?" his nose crinkled as he suggested that, looking up at you only to pause at the deadpan stare.

"honey, the love of my life—" you begin as you inch close, holding his jaw between your thumb and index, "this should be the last time you insinuate that you aren't captivating."

you lean closer to peck his lips and he subconsciously moves forward to chase your lips, not caring about the dazed smile or the blush raging on his cheeks that he tried so hard to hide.

"you are my muse." you added, murmuring against his lips, to further mess with him.

oh you best believe he is going to thank you for that portrait and sweet praises.

with praises. just in a different setting.

GOJO SATORU

"BABE AM I REALLY THAT HANDSOME?!" he exclaims, fully believing himself that yes, he is that handsome.

he is that push you need when your mind is stuck in an art block, with his constant over the top praises and compliments, he literally powers the creativity in your mind. he is the type of guy to literally decorate your shared home with your pieces, every inch. he'd leave no opportunity to show off, to a friend or even sometimes strangers. it gets especially concerning when the person doesn't quite like it.

"how do you not like it?"

"gojo i just—"

" absolutely pathetic taste." he says with the withering glare still on, rattling the other person's soul and you need to literally drag him away.

and oh when you draw him. its like already fanning that enormous, gigantic ego into something much more out of control. he absolutely smothers you, crushing you in a hug and a fit of kisses attacking your face.

"babe do you have a crush on me? seems like you do, how you draw me so damn beautiful."

"you idiot we're married."

in the moments when he isn't as loud with his appreciation, you catch him gazing at your paintings in silence, that content and proud smile on his face.

even his wallpaper is a your painting of your self portrait, for him to gaze at but also to boast about you when someone asks about the painting in the wallpaper.

"my love's a genius." is what he always says, and never gets tired from it.

GETO SUGURU

he loves your art, like its a part of you. he even helps you sometimes when you don't quite know if it looks good, gives pointers and suggestion. he even tells you if something looks wrong that maybe you overlooked, says it in the best way possible. he likes to watch you do your magic, at first it was a little unnerving for you in the beginning of your relationship so he used to just sneak and watch. there's just something about you in your element that puts him at ease, grounds him.

he poses for you if you want to draw him, a huge help and you don't even have to go look for references. he'll do whatever you like. whatever pose you suggest, anything. (he means anything ;])

"is this pose alright?" his eyes twinkle while he smiles smugly, knowing exactly what he's doing.

"...yes. hold that." you can't even focus on your canvas, god knows drawing what.

"darling you're sweating. you okay?"

"shut up."

he keeps the more...mature art safely tucked away, his daughters don't need to see that, only for his eyes.

but like satoru, he's vocal with his appreciation. whenever guests are home he literally gives a whole ass description, from the strokes, inspiration, interpretation, paragraphs of pure compliments— literally everything. and lets just hope they do not say they don't like it, that sweet smile doesn't look much sweet later.

and you don't know it, but he has drawn you a concerning amount of times, he just doesn't show you because they're his little secret.

reblogs are appreciated :D