#yeah this was the idea that immediately grabbed me as I said before

[mapis-putellas]

𝑴𝒆𝒅𝒊𝒂 𝒅𝒂𝒚/𝑴.𝑳𝒆ó𝒏

Mapi was slumped into her chair, arms crossed, eyes heavy with exhaustion. She had barely spoken a word since you both left the house which was concerning in itself because Mapi never shut up. Normally she’d be teasing you or complaining about how early it was, or making some ridiculous joke that only she found funny. But today? Nothing. Just the occasional sniffle and a dramatic sigh every five minutes.

You nudged her gently. “You okay?”

Mapi turned her head slowly, eyes half-lidded, and pointed to her throat before dramatically pretending to cry.

“Oh no, poor baby,” you cooed, biting back a smile as you placed your hand on her thigh and squeezed softly.

She glared at you and grabbed her phone, typing something before holding it up. There, in big capital letters, read,

THIS IS YOUR FAULT.

You gasped. “How is this my fault?”

She sniffled loudly and typed again.

You stole my blanket. I got cold. Now I am dying.

“That is not how sickness works, amor, and you’re not dying, just dramatic.”

She squinted at you like she was contemplating murder, but thankfully, before she could, the media team called her name and she let out the most pathetic attempt at a groan before pushing herself up from the chair. You followed, because you knew she was going to need help. She was supposed to film an interview, answer questions, be her usual charming and slightly ridiculous self. But that was hard to do when she sounded like an eighty-year-old smoker.

As soon as the cameras were ready, Mapi cleared her throat and opened her mouth to speak. Nothing. A horrible, scratchy wheeze came out instead, making her sound like a broken door hinge. The crew exchanged glances, and you pressed your lips together, trying not to laugh. Mapi looked horrified.

One of the interviewers hesitated. “Uh…do you want to reschedule?”

Mapi shook her head quickly, grabbing her phone again.

No, I am professional.

You snorted. “Yeah, okay.”

She sent you a withering look and started typing furiously. Then she handed you the phone.

You do it. Be my voice.

You blinked. “Wait, what?”

She nodded firmly, crossing her arms.

The media team seemed amused by the idea. One of them spoke up. “So…you’ll answer her questions for her?”

Mapi pointed at you, then gave a thumbs-up.

You sighed. “Fine. But if you make me say something stupid, I swear-“

She grinned,,which was probably the first real sign of life you’d seen from her all morning since you’d dragged her ass out of bed.m

The interview began, and the first question was a simple one. “How are you feeling today, Mapi?”

You glanced at her, and she immediately typed on her phone before shoving it at you.

You read it aloud. “I feel amazing. Very strong. Possibly the strongest I have ever been.”

The interviewer looked at Mapi skeptically. “You…don’t sound amazing.”

Mapi scowled, typing furiously for a second.

You glanced at the screen again.“I am perfect. I am unstoppable. Only weak people get sick.”

Mapi nodded sagely.

You rolled your eyes. “She’s literally dying.”

Mapi nudged you sharply with her elbow, and you yelped.

“Okay, next question,” the interviewer said, clearly entertained. “Who is the funniest person on the team?”

Mapi smirked and started typing.

You took the phone and read, “Me, obviously.” Mapi grinned,and you continued reading. “Also, my girlfriend is very funny, but only on accident. Most of the time, she is just dumb.”

You looked up in outrage. “MAPI.”

She was shaking with silent laughter, and the media team too, was losing it. The interview went on like that, with Mapi answering every question through you, except half the time she was using it as an opportunity to make fun of you.

Finally, the interviewer asked, “Okay, last question. What’s the best part about being in a relationship with your teammate?”

Mapi’s smirk softened slightly, and she typed slower this time.

You took the phone and read, “She makes me happy. Even when she is annoying. And even when she steals my blanket and makes me sick.”

Your heart melted a little. “Oh, Mapi.”

She gave you a tired smile.

Then she grabbed the phone again and typed one last thing.

Also, I am much better at football than her.

You groaned. “I take back every nice thing I was about to say.”

Mapi just laughed well, wheezed- and rested her head on your shoulder as the interview wrapped up.

**

Tags:

@ceesimz @marysfics @girlgenius1111 @codiemarin @simp4panos @silentwolfsstuff @goldenempyrean @xxnaiaxx @liloandstitchstan @ktgoodmorning @chelseacult

[gingerteafairy]

Hii, you could do some Dave doing. Where the reader has curly hair, and she has always told Dave to define their curls, so one day they try it and he likes it. So every day before she goes to school she goes to his house to do it. that has a lot, a lot of lint.

I've always imagined Dave as the silly boyfriend who is so in love that he lets himself be done by his girlfriend, so why not

hi! sure, he's definitely like this. as a curly hair girl, that's basically the dream goal. hope you like it!

𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐨𝐧 𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐬 ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

tags n warnings: fluff, dave lizewski x reader. word count: 1.6k masterlist

Dave considered your hair a masterpiece. It was so defined, so mesmerizing. It was impossible not to want to touch it, and he felt honored to be the only person you allowed to mess up the perfect finish just a little. But he wasn’t the only one admiring the curls, because you loved Dave’s curls too, and that was exactly why you knocked on his door an hour before school.

"Babe, what the hell are you doin' here this early?" he groaned, still half-asleep, opening the door and squinting through his glasses. He had that look of someone who was very much not a morning person.

"I came to give you a really good surprise," you said, your voice full of excitement, stepping inside and immediately getting out of the freezing cold air outside.

"Really?" he perked up, rubbing his eyes as he walked past you to close the door. He came back and wrapped you up in a hug, not letting go as you made your way into the kitchen. As you walked, he inhaled deeply, clearly appreciating the scent of your curls. "What is it?"

You set the bowl on the counter and pulled off the cloth covering it. "Voilá."

Dave leaned his head over your shoulder to peek at what you were hiding. "What is this?"

"Cinnamon rolls," you explained, slipping out of his embrace and moving around the kitchen with a confidence that made it feel like you lived there—partly because you practically did at this point. You opened cabinets, pulled out flour, and grabbed a cutting board. From your backpack, you pulled out a rolling pin and a small bowl filled with a shiny, thick liquid.

"Is that the filling?" Dave asked, clearly intrigued as he leaned over to get a better look. "Smells amazing."

"Yep, we’re gonna spread it on the dough, and you’re gonna help me," you said, smiling sweetly as you motioned for him to join you. He nodded enthusiastically, ready to dive in.

Making cinnamon rolls at the crack of dawn wasn’t exactly Dave’s idea of a perfect morning, but seeing how excited you were, he felt this weird urge to get involved in your little surprise. You’d always talked about how cool it would be to cook together on a date. But really, you couldn’t have chosen a better time?

"You’re gonna roll out the dough with this pin, spread the filling, and make little rolls," you explained, demonstrating your technique.

"Like this?" Dave asked, raising an eyebrow, his hands moving with surprising skill.

"Exactly like that!" you said with a big grin, grabbing some more dough. "You’re good at this, Dave. You’ll make a great helper for my next surprise."

"Wait, there’s more?" he groaned dramatically, raising an eyebrow as he finished shaping another roll.

"Oh yeah, and the cinnamon rolls will be your reward," you teased, noticing the dough was almost finished.

"Alright, alright," he grinned, still playing along. Minutes later, the rolls were shaped perfectly, and you placed them in the oven.

"Now, Dave, we’ve got the baking time to work on the next part of the surprise. Let’s head to the bathroom," you announced with a playful glint in your eyes, heading up the stairs. Dave followed, still a little confused.

"You’re way too mysterious," he laughed, glancing at you over his shoulder as you shot him a mischievous smile. "See? This is what I’m talkin’ about."

Once inside the bathroom, you closed the door behind you. You pulled your backpack off your shoulder, rummaged through it, and pulled out two containers, holding them up for him to see. "You're gonna shower and wash your hair with this."

"Is this part of the mystery, or are you gonna tell me what this stuff is?" Dave asked, his curiosity growing as he took off his glasses and set them down on the sink.

"You’ve always said you love my hair, so I figured I’d do yours the way I do mine," you said, raising an eyebrow, expecting him to catch on. But there was a clear look of confusion on his face followed by a shake of his head. "Come on, Dave. Please?" you pleaded, leaning in closer, and giving him your best puppy-dog eyes.

He squinted, pressing his lips together in thought. "Ugh... Fine, why not?" he finally agreed, flashing you a playful smile before pulling off his shirt and getting ready to hop in the shower. He glanced at you over his shoulder as he grabbed the waistband of his shorts. "Gonna stare at me the whole time?"

"I need to make sure you’re doing it right," you said with a straight face, although you could feel a smile creeping up.

Dave mumbled something about being embarrassed under his breath, pouting in that way that made you melt. You couldn’t help but smile, shaking your head at how adorable he was.

"Fine, but follow the instructions. Leave the mask on for five minutes, just like it says on the package," you said, giving him one last set of instructions before closing the bathroom door.

"You got it!" he called from inside, and you walked back to his bedroom to wait for him.

You prepared everything you needed: hair cream, split-end repair serum, gel, brushes, microfiber towels—everything to make his hair look perfect. You had to admit, this was so much fun, and you were excited to see the results.

Minutes later, Dave came back, a towel wrapped around his waist, water dripping everywhere.

"My hair’s never been this soft, check it out," he said, pulling a lock of his hair to show you. "It’s shiny. Is there glitter in this stuff?"

"Nope, babe. Just a good treatment mask," you laughed, turning away so he could get dressed in private.

"It smells just like those cinnamon rolls you’re making," he said, pulling on the bottom half of his clothes and choosing a shirt. "You can turn around now."

You turned back around and found him sitting on the bed, looking so cute and relaxed. You sat next to him, placing all the hair tools beside him. "Why all the stuff? Don’t you just brush it?"

“No, Dave. And to be honest, I do this every time I get ready,” you laughed, starting to comb through his hair to get rid of any tangles. “My hair doesn’t just get perfect on its own, you know?”

“But it is perfect on you…” he complimented, looking up at you, his eyes locking with yours. “I’m scared I’m gonna look like a damn clown.”

“You won’t, Dave,” you giggled, grabbing a towel to dry off the excess moisture from his hair and continuing to comb. “I’ve always wanted to do this to your hair, you know? Your hair is so beautiful.”

He shook his head slightly, confused. You took some oil in your hands, rubbed it together, and spread it through the length of his hair. Then, you grabbed some cream and worked it through evenly. Finally, you picked up some gel, and Dave raised an eyebrow.

“What’s that?” he asked, his face making a disgusted cat-like expression.

“Gel.”

“I know what it is, but why do you need it?” he asked, leaning in closer to smell it.

“To make your curls last longer,” you explained, applying a little and scrunching it to enhance his curls. “Done! First part's all set.”

“First?” he asked, his voice sounding a little whiny.

You cupped his face in your hands, giving him a quick kiss on the lips before pulling away to look at him. “Just one more step and we’re done, okay?”

“That’s a low blow,” he mumbled, then laughed softly. You grabbed a towel to wipe off the cream that had dripped onto his face, then went for the blow dryer with an attachment. “Now this I have no idea what it is.”

“It’s a diffuser,” you laughed, plugging it in and adjusting the device to work on his hair. “It helps dry the curls without damaging them or making them frizzy.”

“Whoa, this is a whole new world,” he said, his voice full of enthusiasm as he soaked in every moment of this pampering session. You were close to him, giving him special attention to make sure he looked perfect.

“Finished,” you announced after a while, adding a little more split-end repair serum to loosen his curls. “Okay, you can take a look.”

You stepped back so Dave could get up and walk over to the mirror. He touched his curls, laughing lightly and admiring how they turned out. “Wow… it’s like doll hair,” he whispered, pulling at one of the curls with his hand. “It looks like yours.”

“That’s because this is how I do it,” you smiled, walking over to him. “When you do it yourself, just grab a section of your hair and roll it like a cinnamon roll.”

“So that’s why you brought me the cinnamon rolls,” he rolled his eyes, smiling at you. “You’re clever. But just one thing… don’t your arms hurt from doing all that?”

“A little, but you get used to it,” you shrugged, still admiring his curls. The timer on the oven dinged. “The rolls are ready. Let’s eat and head to school.”

“Sounds good!” Dave grinned, and you both made your way to the kitchen. Dave loved the cinnamon rolls, and as always, everything you did seemed to be perfect. You packed some of the cinnamon rolls into a bag to take to school, and Dave grinned. “If I get these rolls every time I let you do my hair, I might just go buy that infuser thing.”

“It’s diffuser,” you corrected him, laughing. “And maybe I can reward you with that.”

That ended up becoming a routine, where you would do his hair every morning before school, sometimes even doing your own hair alongside his. It was kind of a fun little ritual, especially since the day before you’d been too lazy to do yours, and you took the opportunity to spend just a little more time with your gorgeous, curly-haired boyfriend.

[nameless-jamie]

Reading your PA x Jamie FF has become the highlight of my day! Pls never stop posting! Can I request a FF where PA twists her ankle or sth and Jamie insists on helping her out all the time? Like carying all her stuff, carrying her up and down the stairs etc.?

At Your Service

Masterlist

Jamie Tartt x fem! PA reader

TW: cursing, flirting, physically hurt reader, suggestive language

A/N: I love love love this request. Had so many ideas I even added a bonus in the end! Hope you like it.

It happened in the stupidest way possible.

One moment, Y/N was walking down the hallway at Nelson Road, focused on the emails she was typing, and the next, her ankle rolled awkwardly on the edge of the step leading into the locker room. Stupid High Heels...

A sharp jolt of pain shot up her leg as she stumbled forward, barely managing to catch herself against the doorframe.

"Shit," she hissed under her breath, already feeling the dull throb settle in.

She turned her head and immediately regretted it.

Jamie was standing there, arms crossed, watching her with a raised eyebrow. "The fuck was that?"

"Nothing," she said quickly, standing up straight despite the pain. "I just—"

She took a step and winced.

Jamie was on her in an instant. "Oi, oi, oi—none of that," he scolded, hands hovering like he was ready to catch her at any second. "You just went down like a sack of bricks. You alright?"

"It’s fine, Jamie, really—"

He ignored her completely, kneeling down and gently wrapping his hand around her ankle, inspecting it like he was suddenly a qualified physio. "Yeah, that’s gonna be swollen as fuck in about five minutes," he declared, looking up at her with those big blue eyes of his. "You need to sit down. Now."

She sighed. "Jamie—"

Before she could protest, he stood up and—without any warning—scooped her up into his arms.

"JAMIE!" she shrieked, gripping onto his shirt.

"What?" he said, completely unfazed as he started walking. "M’helpin’ you."

"You can’t just—carry me around like this!"

"Sure I can," he said easily. "You’re my assistant, yeah? That means I gotta take care of you. Ain’t that how it works, love?"

"That is absolutely not how it works."

"Well, it is now."

She groaned, but there was no point in arguing. Jamie Tartt was nothing if not stubborn as hell when he wanted to be.

As they made it to Y/N'S office, her ankle was swelling up, and Jamie had fully committed to his self-appointed role as her personal helper.

"Right," he said, setting her down gently in her chair. "What d’you need? Water? Ice? Maybe a cuppa?"

"Jamie, I can handle it—"

"Shush," he said, pressing a finger to her lips like a dramatic idiot. "Not another word. I got this."

Before she could argue, he was off, stealing the ice pack from the physio room and shoving it against her ankle with all the gentleness of a golden retriever puppy.

"Jamie—"

"Shh, m’bein’ helpful."

He didn’t stop there. For the rest of the day, he followed her around like a shadow.

He carried all her things—even her tiny crossbody bag. He made her tea. Yup, just hot water and sugar. AGAIN. And when she needed to go upstairs for something, he flat-out refused to let her walk.

"I can walk just fine!" she insisted.

"Yeah, nah," he said, already crouching slightly. "Get on."

She blinked. "Jamie—"

"Piggyback, babe," he said with a grin. "Hop on."

She did not hop on.

She refused.

So Jamie did the only logical thing: he grabbed her by the waist and threw her over his shoulder.

"JAMIE FUCKING TARTT!"

"What?" he laughed, carrying her up the stairs like she weighed nothing. "Told ya, I ain't lettin’ you hurt yourself worse."

"I will murder you in your sleep."

"Nah, you love me too much."

She would never admit it out loud, but—maybe, just maybe—being fussed over by Jamie Tartt wasn’t the worst thing in the world.

Not that she’d tell him that.

Because if she did, she’d never hear the end of it.

By the time lunch rolled around, Y/N had resigned herself to the fact that Jamie Tartt was not going to let her do a single thing for herself.

Not. One. Thing.

Not when he had practically carried her all through the morning like she was some helpless maiden. Not when he had physically taken her laptop off her desk and plopped it onto his lap instead, typing things out for her like her own personal (and highly unqualified) secretary.

And definitely not now, when she was trying—and failing—to carry her lunch tray through the cafeteria. Barefoot. Limping.

Jamie materialized beside her, swiping the tray right out of her hands before she could argue.

"I got it," he said casually, strolling toward the nearest table like he hadn’t just stolen her food.

"Jamie, I am perfectly capable of—"

"Yeah, yeah," he interrupted, setting her tray down before pulling out a chair for her. "C’mon then, sit."

She rolled her eyes. "You know I’m not actually dying, right?"

"You might as well be," he said dramatically, waving his hands. "Dunno if you noticed, but you’ve been limpin’ all day. Looks tragic, babe. Like somethin’ outta a sad animal documentary."

She shot him a flat look. "It’s a sprained ankle, not a career-ending injury, genius."

Jamie shrugged. "Same thing, innit?"

Before she could argue, Jamie plopped down next to her and—because he was absolutely incapable of keeping his hands to himself—stole a chip right off her plate.

"Jamie!" she swatted at his arm, but he just grinned, chewing obnoxiously.

"What? You can’t fight me for it," he teased. "You’re injured."

"You’re the worst."

"Nah, I’m proper helpful, actually," he said, nudging her. "Bet you wouldn’t even be eatin’ right now if it weren’t for me."

She sighed dramatically. "You’re right, Jamie. I would have starved to death. Thank you for your noble sacrifice."

"That’s what I’m sayin’!" he said, gesturing like she had just proven his point. "Now, go on. Eat up. Need to keep your strength up."

She huffed but took a bite of her sandwich anyway, because fine, maybe he had a point.

And for a few minutes, there was silence—until she noticed Jamie watching her, chin propped in his hand, a lazy smirk playing on his lips.

She swallowed. "What?"

"Nothin’," he said, still smirking. "You’re just cute when you’re grumpy, is all."

Her face heated instantly.

"Oh, piss off," she muttered, looking away, but Jamie just laughed, absolutely thriving off her flustered reaction.

He leaned in, dropping his voice to a low, teasing drawl.

"Bet you like me takin’ care of you, don’t you, love?"

She nearly choked on her food. "What?!"

Jamie grinned. "S’okay, baby, you can admit it. You love it, yeah? Me dotin’ on ya, carryin’ ya round, bein’ all sweet and that?"

She refused to give him the satisfaction.

"You’re ridiculous," she scoffed, stabbing at her food with unnecessary aggression.

Jamie just laughed again, obnoxious and way too pleased with himself.

"Yeah, yeah," he said, stealing another chip. "But you still let me, don’t ya?"

She had no good response to that.

And Jamie knew it.

Which meant she was never living this down.

SMALL BONUS:

Y/N had been dreading this moment all day.

Because of course, with Jamie insisting on carrying her everywhere like some sort of overenthusiastic prince charming, it was only a matter of time before she had to face the most humiliating question of all.

And Jamie, being Jamie, didn’t make it any easier.

She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, clearing her throat. "Uh, Jamie?"

"Hmm?" He didn’t even look up from his phone, lazily scrolling through some post-match analysis.

She hesitated, already regretting this. "I, um… I need to go to the bathroom."

Jamie immediately looked up, a slow, devious grin spreading across his face. "Ohhh," he said like this was the best news he’d ever received.

Y/N narrowed her eyes. "Don’t. Start."

"Start what?" he asked, looking utterly innocent—which was exactly how she knew he was about to start.

"Jamie," she warned.

"I mean," he continued, stretching dramatically, "since you can’t walk an’ all, guess that means I’ll have to carry you, yeah?"

Her entire body went hot. "Absolutely not."

"Aw, c’mon," he said, biting back a laugh. "I been carryin’ you everywhere else. Why stop now?"

"Because this is different!"

"How?" He leaned in, way too entertained by this. "You think I’m gonna just drop ya in the loo an’ run? Or you worried I’ll hear somethin’ I shouldn’t?"

Y/N groaned, covering her face. "Jamie, for the love of—"

"Bet you’re a shy pee-er, aren’t ya?" he said, grinning like an idiot.

She wanted to die.

"Shut up!" she hissed, glancing around in case anyone overheard.

Jamie, being the absolute menace that he was, kept going.

"Could always help, y’know," he said, mock-thoughtful. "Like, if you need me to hold you over the—"

"STOP TALKING."

He howled with laughter, doubling over like this was the funniest thing that had ever happened to him.

"You’re such a child," she muttered, covering her face.

Jamie wiped fake tears from his eyes. "Fuckin’ hell, babe, you’re killin’ me."

"Good."

Still grinning, Jamie stood up and stretched. "Right, c’mon then. Let’s get this over with."

"I hate you," she mumbled as he bent down, effortlessly scooping her up bridal style.

"Nah, you love me," he said, way too cocky.

And, okay. Maybe she did.

But she’d rather die than admit it.

[lvrsturniolo]

Passenger Princess ~M.S

Pairing: Singer!Reader × Matt Sturniolo

pt.1

Synopsis: When you start planning the music video for your latest song, you realize there’s only one person you want as your co-star, your best friend, Matt Sturniolo. The only problem? You have to convince him first.

You tapped your fingers against the table, staring at your phone screen as your latest single, Passenger Princess, played softly in the background. The music video concept had been running through your mind for weeks—a dreamy, intimate vibe, heavy on aesthetic shots, and, of course, a love interest to play the role of the driver.

The only person you could picture in that role was Matt.

It made sense. You were close, the chemistry was there, and you trusted him more than anyone to make the scenes feel natural. But asking him? That was a whole different challenge.

You grabbed your phone, hesitating for only a second before sending a text.

____________________________________

You: Hey, I have a crazy idea, and you’re not allowed to say no immediately.

The typing bubbles appeared almost instantly.

Matt: That’s concerning. Continue.

You smirked, taking a deep breath before responding.

You: I want you to be in my music video. As the love interest.

The typing bubbles stopped.

Your heart pounded. Maybe this was stupid. Maybe he’d think it was weird—

Matt: Wait, fr?

You: Dead serious. I can’t picture anyone else for it. It’s just us in a car, vibing to the song. No acting, just being us.

A minute passed. Then another.

Just as you started to panic, your phone rang. Matt.

You answered immediately. “Don’t say no.”

A soft chuckle came from the other end. “I wasn’t gonna.”

You froze. “Wait… so you’ll do it?”

“I mean, yeah,” he said, and you could hear the smile in his voice. “I don’t know how good I’ll be, but if you want me there, I’m in.”

Relief flooded through you. “You have no idea how happy that makes me.”

Matt laughed. “So… does this mean I get to drive some fancy vintage car?”

You grinned. “Duh. Only the best for my Passenger Princess aesthetic.”

“Well,” he teased, “guess I’ll be your driver.”

The way he said it sent butterflies through your stomach, but you ignored it. This was just for the video. Just acting… right?

pt. 2 coming soon (tonight most likely I’m bored 😋😋) yall like???

[daeniradraconis]

The Game We Play - C5.

Hey Lovelies, Sorry for the delay! To be honest, I lost a bit of motivation with this story for a while. So, I stepped back, took some time to think, and came back to it with fresh ideas—and I think it worked! :) I hope you’ll love it as much as I do! For more fun: masterlist❤️

---

William Nylander stood in front of his mirror, adjusting the collar of his shirt for the fifteenth time. His hair was styled, his cologne was on, and yet, he still felt like a mess.

“Dude, relax,” Auston Matthews called from the couch, bouncing baby Elias on his lap. The infant let out a delighted squeal, smacking Auston’s beard with his tiny hands. “It’s just Odette. You see her almost every day.”

“That’s different,” William muttered, turning to the side to check his profile. Did this shirt make him look like he was trying too hard? Was his hair too perfect? He tousled it, then immediately regretted it and tried to smooth it back down. “This is a date.”

Auston snorted. “You’re acting like you’re about to propose, man.” He lifted Elias into the air like a tiny airplane, making the baby squeal with laughter. “Your dad’s being dramatic, isn’t he, buddy?”

Elias tilted his blond head to the side, his chubby cheeks puffing up as a toothless grin spread across his face. “Dada!” he babbled, barely able to form the word, but to William, it was perfect. His heart melted every time his son said it. Every. Single. Time.

“Yeah, Eli, you’re a genius!” Auston declared, grinning wildly. At 6'3", packed with muscle, he looked absolutely ridiculous holding such a tiny human whose entire head was roughly the size of his palm. William just smiled, watching his friend completely in awe of his son.

Then Elias spotted the dogs. His blue eyes lit up as he pointed excitedly at Banksy and Pablo. “Matty! Wau-wau!”

Auston and William exchanged an amused glance. This kid was growing up way too fast. Just a few weeks ago, he’d barely mumbled anything, and now he had an entire vocabulary—well, three words, but still. "Dada," "wau-wau," and "Matty."

Auston, of course, was absolutely thrilled that Elias had learned his name before Odette’s. He never shut up about it. Every time he saw the Leafs’ photographer, he’d casually remind her.

“Hey, did I mention Elias knows my name?”

“Yes, Auston.”

“Before yours?”

“Yes, Auston.”

“Just checking.”

Naturally, Odette was salty about it and had taken to calling Elias a traitor at every opportunity.

But right now, Auston was basking in his victory, holding Elias up like Simba in The Lion King. “That’s right, kid. You know who the coolest uncle is.”

Elias giggled, clearly enjoying the moment, before spitting out a little drool in response.

William smirked. “Pretty sure that means he thinks you’re full of crap.”

“Eli, how could you betray me like this?”Auston gasped dramatically.

The baby just smiled at him, utterly unbothered.

William sighed, turning back to the hallway mirror and rubbing his temples. “What if I screw this up?”

“Mess what up?” Auston raised a brow. “She already likes you. She basically raised this kid with you.” He gestured to Elias, who had now decided Auston’s hoodie strings were the most fascinating thing in the world. “She’s seen you at your worst, man. That time you fell asleep holding a Elias’s bottle upside down and soaked yourself? She didn’t even laugh that hard.”

“She definitely laughed,” William grumbled, grabbing a lint roller and running it over his pants.

“Okay, yeah, she did.” Auston smirked. “But that’s because she likes you. Just don’t be weird and it’ll be fine.”

William groaned. “I am weird.”

“Oh, 100%.” Auston nodded solemnly. “But, like, in a hot Swedish guy way. So it works for you.”

William tossed the keys from the top of the hallway cabinet toward Auston. Auston dodged without breaking a smile, while Elias clapped his hands, loving the show.

There was a knock at the door, and William immediately straightened, eyes wide in panic. “That’s her!”

Auston whistled. “No backing out now, Willy Styles.”

William shot him a glare before taking a deep breath and walking over to the door. He hesitated, then glanced back. “I look okay, right?”

Auston gave him a slow, exaggerated once-over. “You look… exactly like a guy who is way too nervous about a date with the woman who already adores him.”

Elias let out a tiny babble that somehow sounded like agreement.

William rolled his eyes and opened the door. There stood Odette, effortlessly stunning in a black shirt that draped off her shoulders, paired with perfectly fitted jeans and high-heeled boots that added just the right amount of edge. Her winter coat hung loosely in her hands, and her golden curls framed her face in soft, wild waves, catching the light as she moved. She had that kind of natural elegance—the kind that didn’t need effort, just presence. A warm, knowing smile played on her lips, and with the way she carried herself, confident and carefree, it was impossible not to look twice.

“Hey,” she greeted. “Ready to go?”

William opened his mouth to say something smooth, something charming. Instead, what came out was: “I—uh—yeah. Hi. Shoes. Yes. Going.”

Auston choked on a laugh behind him. Odette’s lips twitched in amusement, but she reached out, gently touching his arm. “Take your time, Willy.”

William took a deep breath, nodded, and grabbed his shoes, slipping them on as quickly as possible before stepping out. As he did, he heard Auston behind him, whispering dramatically to Elias: “Your dad is soooo whipped.”

Elias giggled in agreement.

William groaned, again. This was going to be a long night.

—

The restaurant was warm, candlelit, and intimate—the kind of place that invited long conversations and lingering looks. Odette found herself sinking into the atmosphere, the low hum of conversation and clinking glasses wrapping around her like a cozy blanket. Across from her, William had settled into his seat, one arm draped lazily over the back of his chair, his fingers idly tracing the stem of his wine glass.

“You know,” he said, swirling the deep red liquid. “I still can’t believe I’m someone’s dad.”

Odette arched a brow, tilting her head. “Does it feel real yet?”

William exhaled a soft laugh, shaking his head. “Some days, yeah. Like when I’m up at three in the morning, rocking him back to sleep, or when he calls me ‘Dada’ and my heart just—” He pressed a hand dramatically to his chest, eyes flickering with warmth. “Instant emotional damage. Every time.”

Odette chuckled, resting her chin in her palm. “You’re a good dad, Will.”

His gaze locked onto hers for a beat, something unreadable flashing across his face before he cleared his throat and smirked. “What about you? Tell me something I don’t know.”

She hesitated, then took a sip of her drink. “I love to dance.”

William’s brows shot up, intrigue sparking in his expression. “No way.”

“I’m terrible at it, though,” she admitted with a sheepish laugh. “Like, truly awful.”

His lips twitched. “I don’t believe you.”

“Oh, you should.” She pointed a warning finger at him. “I have zero rhythm. None. I look like one of those inflatable tube men outside of car dealerships.”

William let out a loud laugh, shaking his head. “Okay, now I have to see this.”

Odette groaned. “Why did I tell you that?”

“Because deep down, you want me to see it,” he teased, leaning forward, his smirk widening. “You’re just hoping I’ll be too charmed to laugh.”

“Oh, you will laugh.”

“Damn right I will.” He raised his glass to her. “But I promise to be impressed, too.”

She rolled her eyes but clinked her glass against his anyway, their fingers brushing for just a second.

Then, feeling bolder, she admitted, “I, uh… never learned how to skate.”

William blinked, his face a mix of confusion and mock betrayal. “I’m sorry, what? But you’re Canadian. Every single one of you knows how to skate!”

Odette winced, swirling her drink in her hand. “Yeah… Well, my parents were always too busy, and they just… didn’t care about stuff like that. You know, most kids learn that stuff from their parents. We never really did any family things.” She hesitated, then exhaled softly. “Or, well… much of anything when it came to me.”

The teasing smirk vanished from William’s face, replaced by something softer—something that made her stomach flutter. He reached for her hand, his fingers warm as they wrapped gently around hers. The simple touch unraveled something in her, and she found herself gripping him back, just slightly.

“Odette…” His voice was quiet, but heavy with meaning.

She swallowed, forcing a small shrug, attempting to make light of it. “It’s not a big deal. I got used to it. Learned how to take care of myself.”

William didn’t look convinced. His baby-blue eyes locked onto hers, seeing right through the mask she was trying to put up. He shook his head, his thumb brushing idly over the back of her hand.

“Nah,” he murmured, leaning in just a little. “That’s a big deal.” His voice was low but firm, like he needed her to hear it—really hear it. “You deserved better.”

Her breath caught in her throat. For a moment, she couldn’t look away from him. The way he was looking at her, like she was something precious, something worth fighting for—it was a kind of warmth she wasn’t sure she’d ever felt before.

Desperate to lighten the moment before her heart burst, she forced a smile. “Well… at least I can cook. Had to teach myself, but I got pretty good at it.”

William’s grin returned instantly, easy and familiar, like he knew she needed the subject change. “That’s true! Elias thinks your pancakes are the best on planet Earth. HHe literally spits out mine and will only eat them if you make them.”

Odette laughed, finally exhaling the breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. “The boy has taste, that’s all I can say. But maybe one day, I’ll make something more complicated for you guys.”

William’s grip on her hand tightened slightly. “Careful,” he warned, his smirk tilting in that way that made her stomach flip. “I might show up at your door with a fork and dangerously high expectations.”

She shook her head, laughing as she ran her fingers softly over his palm, tracing absentminded circles. “Noted. No pressure or anything.”

“Oh, no pressure at all.” He leaned back, still holding her hand, his voice dropping to something lower, softer. “Just my entire happiness on the line.”

Odette rolled her eyes and threw her napkin at him, but her fingers lingered against his just a little longer than necessary.

—

Toronto’s night air had that perfect kind of crispness—the kind that made you instinctively tuck yourself closer to the person beside you. Not that Odette minded. Not when William had his strong arm wrapped around her shoulders, radiating warmth like a living, breathing heater. The streets were quiet, lined with twinkling lights that made everything feel a little softer, a little dreamier. Tonight just felt... easy.

It had been a long time since a conversation had flowed like this—effortless, like flipping through the pages of a favorite book. They’d talked about everything: childhood memories, family, the weird little quirks that made them who they were.

Odette glanced up at him, grinning. “It’s funny. I feel like I’ve known you forever.”

William smirked down at her. “That’s probably because I have an incredibly familiar face.”

She snorted, nudging him with her shoulder. “Oh, definitely. Has nothing to do with the fact that we just spent hours talking like we’ve been best friends for a decade.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re catching on.” His smirk softened as he gave her shoulder a squeeze. “It’s nice, though, isn’t it?”

She hummed in agreement, leaning into him. “Yeah… it really is.”

Somewhere along the way, the conversation wandered toward the future. William talked about hockey, about how badly he wanted to win the Stanley Cup—not just for himself, but for the Leafs, for the city. But more than that, he wanted balance. He wanted to be there for Elias, to be the kind of dad his son could always count on. He wanted a family. Stability.

“I want a family too,” Odette said, a wistful smile playing on her lips. “And kids—lots of them.”

William arched a brow, his lips twitching. “Lots?”

“Yeah, a lot,” she said matter-of-factly. “Like a whole pack. You know, like the Weasley family.”

William chuckled, a low, warm sound that sent something fizzy through her chest. “You really have a serious Harry Potter addiction.” His lips curled into a smirk. “But I love that.”

She blinked up at him, feigning offense. “What, the kids or my Harry Potter addiction?”

He grinned. “Both.”

Odette laughed, shaking her head. “Figures.”

She barely had a second to recover before he added, “But the idea of you with a whole bunch of little troublemakers running around? Yeah… that does things to me. And I’m pretty sure it’s illegal to feel this way after a first date.”

Odette rolled her eyes, but the way he was looking at her—like he actually liked picturing it—sent warmth blooming in her cheeks.

“Please,” she scoffed, grinning up at him. “We’ve been dancing around this for months. If anything, you’re way behind on feeling things.”

William’s smirk deepened. “Oh, am I?”

She tilted her head playfully. “Mhm. You better catch up, Nylander.”

He let out another chuckle, gaze dropping to her lips for just a second before he murmured, “Oh, trust me. I’m working on it.”

As they turned around the next corner, William suddenly stopped in his tracks, a spark of excitement lighting up his features. “I have an idea.”

Odette raised a brow. “Oh?”

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he took her hand—without hesitation, without second-guessing—and gently tugged her toward the alley next to them. “Come on, trust me.”

And just like that, she let him lead the way.

They walked for a few minutes, weaving through quiet streets until they reached a large park Odette didn’t recognize. She had only been living in the city for a few months, and William had years of advantage when it came to finding hidden gems. But when she looked ahead, she felt her breath catch.

Under the soft glow of streetlights, an open skating rink stretched out before them, the ice smooth and glistening. A handful of people skated effortlessly under the stars, laughter echoing through the crisp night air. The whole scene looked like something out of a snow globe.

Odette turned to him, a sharp suspicion in her eyes. “William Andrew Michael Junior Nylander Altelius, did you just trick me into learning how to skate?”

His grin was wide and completely unapologetic. “Maybe.”

She narrowed her eyes at him, but the mischievous warmth in his expression made it impossible to stay mad. Instead, she sighed and shook her head. “Look at you. I admit I can’t skate, and now you’re just having way too much fun with that, huh? You little rascal.”

“You’re about to become a real Canadian, darling.” He wiggled his eyebrows, teasing. “Seriously, you should be happy. You’re getting lessons from hockey royalty. Not everyone gets that opportunity.”

She groaned, already knowing she was defeated. “Okay, let’s do this. But if I fall, you’re coming down with me.”

“Deal.” He smirked, crouching to lace up his skates, his movements fluid and confident. When he straightened, he extended a hand to her, his blue eyes sparkling with playful encouragement.

Something inside her softened. Maybe this wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

—

Odette wobbled, taking one tentative step onto the ice. Her legs felt like jelly beneath her, but she forced herself to stand tall, gripping William’s hand tightly. She could feel his steady presence beside her, but his mischievous grin was enough to make her nervous.

“You’re not going to let me fall, right?” she asked, her voice a mix of teasing and genuine uncertainty.

William’s grin stretched wider. “If you fall, I’ll make sure it’s a graceful landing.”

“Graceful?” She shot him a look, skeptical but amused, her grip tightening around his hand as she took another unsteady step. “I have zero grace. I told you, I can’t even dance!”

He smirked, a glint of mischief in his eyes. “That’s a different story. This is survival mode.”

“Oh, I’m sure,” she replied, sarcasm dripping from her words as she wobbled again. “If ‘survival mode’ for you means embarrassing me in public.”

William dramatically pouted, playing up the act. “Hey, I’m just here to help. Think of it as... a character-building experience.”

“Uh-huh. And I’m building character by clinging to you for dear life.”

They both burst out laughing, the sound mingling with the gentle glide of skates on ice around them. William pulled her closer, his arm sliding around her waist to keep her steady.

“You’re doing fine,” he said, voice soft. “You just gotta trust your balance.”

“I don’t trust my balance,” she muttered, narrowing her eyes as she took another step, this time a little more confidently. “I trust you more than I trust my own body right now.”

“Smart choice,” William teased, his eyes sparkling as he caught her gaze.

With a playful huff, Odette finally found her rhythm, skating a few shaky circles around him, then stopping short and nearly colliding with him. She leaned forward into him, her face dangerously close to his chest. “See?” she muttered into his jacket, laughing awkwardly. “I knew this was a terrible idea.”

He chuckled, warm breath brushing her hair. “You’re doing great, actually.”

She pulled back slightly to look up at him, her brow furrowed. “Really?”

He nodded, his hands still on her waist, steadying her. “Better than me when I first learned. You’re a natural.”

“Oh, stop it.” She swatted at his chest. “You’re just saying that because you’re trying to make me feel better.”

William’s expression softened as he lowered his voice. “No, I mean it. You’re already skating, and you haven’t fallen on your face yet. I’m impressed.”

“Well, I’m not going to thank you for that.” She stuck her tongue out playfully. “If I do fall, I’m going to hold you personally responsible.”

“Fair enough,” he grinned, and before she could react, he suddenly tugged her forward, sliding them both into a slow spin.

Odette yelped as she struggled to keep her balance. “William! What the hell—”

“You’re doing great!” he teased, his arms securely wrapped around her as they turned in a wide arc. “Just relax, and let me lead.”

“I can’t believe you’re making me do this,” she groaned, trying not to laugh.

He grinned, glancing down at her with a gleam in his eye. “I swear, you’re making this way harder than it needs to be. Just give in.”

“Give in? To what? I’m just trying not to end up flat on my face,” she quipped, leaning back to him.

He laughed, pulling her even closer. “I thought you said you wanted to learn. Can’t get all stubborn now.”

“Nope, this was your idea,” she countered, a mischievous grin tugging at her lips. “I’m just going along with it. And if you keep pushing me to be a pro after five minutes of skating, I’m definitely going to take you down with me.”

He smirked, his eyes sparkling with playful intent. “I’m just trying to—”

Before he could finish, his foot caught on the ice, and he tilted toward her with a shout of surprise. In a desperate attempt to stay upright, he wrapped his arms around her, and they both stumbled. They crashed onto the ice, landing in a tangled heap of laughter.

For a moment, neither could breathe from laughing so hard. Odette was sprawled on top of him, her face flushed with embarrassment, but she couldn’t stop giggling. William’s hand brushed against her cheek as he caught his breath, his blue eyes warm with affection.

“Well... that wasn’t the plan,” William said, his voice still filled with amusement.

“You’re killing me, Mr.Hockey Royalty,” she gasped between laughs, awkwardly straddling him.

He reached up, brushing a strand of hair from her face, his fingers lingering just a moment longer than necessary. With a breathless chuckle, he shifted, pushing himself up onto his elbows before sitting up fully, bringing her with him. “You’re the one who distracted me,” he teased, but his tone softened, holding an unspoken sincerity.

“I’m pretty sure you were trying to distract me,” she teased back, her breath quickening.

His gaze dropped to her lips for just a moment before he grinned and pulled her closer. “Maybe I was.”

Odette’s heart skipped a beat, her breath hitching. Then, before either of them could second-guess it, William’s lips were on hers—soft, warm, and entirely right.

For a long moment, the world seemed to disappear, the only thing that mattered being the connection between them. His hands gently cupped her face, and she melted into him, their laughter from moments ago turning into a quiet, deep kiss, full of unspoken promise.

When they finally pulled back, breathless, Odette smirked, her fingers still lingering on his face. “Well, that wasn’t terrible,” she said, her lips still tingling from the kiss.

William smiled softly, brushing his thumb across her cheek. “I’d say it was a pretty good way to end your first skating lesson.”

She rolled her eyes playfully, but her heart was racing. “You’re an idiot.”

“An idiot who just kissed you on the ice,” he shot back, with a knowing grin.

She narrowed her eyes, but the warmth in her chest melted away any potential protest. “Yeah, yeah. Just don’t expect me to fall for you again.”

“Noted,” he said, voice low and teasing, before pulling her into another quick, lingering kiss. 

—

Odette and William stepped into the entrance of the apartment building, their laughter still echoing between them, a warm, easy rhythm that came from the evening they'd just shared. The world around them felt a little quieter, a little softer as they walked toward Odette’s door. Their steps slowed, the space between them shifting into something more intimate.

“I told you, Woll needs something different in a girl,” Odette teased, nudging him gently with her elbow, her laughter still bubbling.

William smiled, but his brows furrowed in confusion. “Odette, Anna was perfect for him.”

She shook her head, her blonde curls bouncing around her face. There was a lightness in her expression, but a firm conviction in the way she spoke. “Woll’s a sweet guy, but he’s like a golden retriever—too nice for this world. He needs a black cat girlfriend. Anna? She was another golden retriever. Too much of the same.”

William paused, trying to process what she was saying, but all he could focus on was the way she was looking at him—soft and playful, but with something deeper beneath the surface. She had him completely under her spell.

“A black cat girlfriend?” His voice was a little lower now, genuinely curious but also distracted by her.

Odette grinned at him, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Oh, Willy, you are so out of touch with social media trends. It’s cute.” She raised an eyebrow, her smile widening. “I’ll show you sometime.”

William chuckled softly, his gaze locked onto hers. “You can show me tomorrow,” he murmured, his voice dipping lower, laced with something deeper.

His hands found their way to her neck, fingers tracing lightly over her skin, sending a shiver down her spine. “Right now, I’m more interested in… other things.”

Without waiting for a response, he leaned in, and their lips met in a kiss that deepened instantly. It was as if the rest of the world fell away. The air between them grew thicker, warmer, the chemistry between them undeniable. They moved together, bodies pressing closer, hearts racing in sync.

The door to Odette’s apartment clicked shut behind them, but neither of them noticed. They were too caught up in each other to care about anything else.

Odette’s back hit the wall beside her door, and William pressed against her, hands roaming over her body with a quiet urgency. Her breath hitched, but she didn’t pull away—she pulled him closer. They kissed harder now, the heat between them intensifying. They were both desperate for more—more of each other, more of this.

William’s lips moved to her jaw, his breath warm against her skin. Odette let out a soft gasp, fingers threading through his hair, pulling him back to her lips. They were tangled up in each other, their hearts beating fast, as if they couldn’t get close enough.

But just as the moment started to spiral out of control, a soft, deliberate cough broke through the air.

Startled, they pulled apart, both of them breathless, eyes wide in shock.

And there, sitting comfortably on Odette’s couch like he belonged there, was Quinn Hughes. He casually scratched behind Luc’s ears, completely unfazed by the tension crackling in the air.

He glanced between them, taking in their flushed faces and breathless expressions before breaking into an amused grin.

Quinn leaned back, stretching out like he had all the time in the world. “Don’t stop on my account.”

[m4iya]

Short fuse

Matsukawa Issei, Tendo Satori and Hoshiumi Korai with an mc who’s lost their temper.

Anon

✮ - Matsukawa Issei

“Hey, you okay?” Matsukawa placed a hand on your shoulder only for it to immediately be shrugged off.

“I’m fine.”

He knew how stressed you’d been over exams and studies lately, and after the ‘assessment graded’ notification popped up on your phone as you were showing him something in a cafe earlier, he hadn’t even thought of asking after seeing your reaction to it. If anything, it didn’t seem as though he paid much attention to your workload anyways, rarely asking questions about what you’re doing. He’d instead ask you to tag along with him so much, to the point where you weren’t able to find time to study properly.

You knew he wasn’t trying to be annoying or rude, but still..

You removed your seatbelt as he entered the driveway before he was able to shift the gear to ‘Park’, preparing to immediately leave.

As he parked, you prepared to grab the handle and leave the car, when a hand suddenly reached out to yours, grasping it.

“Wait, please.” Remorse glazed his tone as he spoke.

You decided to give in for the time being, placing your belongings back in your lap as he shifted the car into ‘park’ before removing the keys from the ignition. You heard him shift in his seat, facing you as your head faced the window, arms crossed.

“Come on, it can’t be that interesting to look outside.” He snickered, attempting to break the ice.

Giving in, you turned albeit hesitant; you still refused to meet his eyes, facing the windshield instead.

He sighed, falling silent for a few moments.

“I saw it you know. The grade.” He said matter of factly. “I just didn’t think you’d want me to mention it. I thought it’d make you angry.”

Sometimes you wondered if he was dense, or just really dumb.

“And that’s why you waited the whole day to ask me about it?” You muttered, still refusing to meet his eyes.

He clicked his tongue, voice elevating in defence. “Look, I..” After a sigh, he resumed speaking, his tone much calmer than before.

“I’ve probably been a pain lately, so I know you’re probably really tired of it.” He reached out, placing his hand on your thigh, fingers twiddling with the fabric of your dress.

“..But I’m only trying to see a smile on your face. I had no idea you were so stressed.”

You turned your head back to the window, hiding your face as warmth crept up on your cheeks.

“…Then ask next time.” You said, the strain in your voice dropping.

“Will do.”

✮ - Tendo Satori

“You’re pretty harsh on them sometimes, Tendo.” You commented as he explained what he and his team did during practice today while the two of you walked home.

“Nope, they’re just lazy.” He shrugged, “I’m not gonna sweet talk them into practicing.” He stifled a giggle.

Raising an eyebrow, you began to feel irritated by his way of dealing with younger team members who weren’t as experienced or skilled as the regulars.

“You can’t expect them to know how to play like professionals instantly. It takes time.”

“Well I’m not their coach, am I?”

You had been friends with him for a while, having met eachother due to a seating arrangement in class. But after speaking to him for all this time, you began to notice his uncooperative attitude when it came to helping others on his team, especially when they weren’t as experienced as him.

You had been meaning to say something for a while, growing increasingly irritated each time he spoke ill of his inexperienced teammates.

“I don’t know how others can even stand to be on the same team with someone like you.” You spoke the words bluntly as the two of you stood at a stoplight. “You’re so discouraging. You’ve had help in the past, haven’t you?” Clenching the handle of your backpack tightly, your body tensed up in anticipation of his response.

“Uh, yeah from my coaches?” He replied, feigning offence. His tone hadn’t changed; still joking around and not being serious.

The stoplight clicked in the background, the remaining cars passing through. You weren’t about to deal with his attitude; he was already frustrating you enough as it was. His typical upbeat attitude wasn’t translating well into this situation, annoying you even more.

If that’s how he was going to be, then hanging out with him wasn’t something you’d continue doing.

After the remaining cars had passed through, the pedestrian light lit up. “Maybe you’ve chosen not to help them.” You took a few steps forward onto the crossing. “But you don’t have to be so insufferable about it.”

You didn’t look behind you, nor did you wonder whether he heard you or not. His steps didn’t follow, and your phone remained silent for the rest of the night.

Waking up the next day, it did cross your mind that perhaps you were a little.. harsh. And maybe it was pretty anticlimactic for you to be scolding him for essentially not being kind when you weren’t too kind to him either.

But how could you approach him about it after you absolutely thrashed him just the day before? The same thought rang throughout your head as you got ready for school, thinking about how awkward it was going to be sitting next to him. After all, it was the first real argument you’d had with him since becoming friends all those months ago.

Though, it looked like he’d also done some thinking himself. Opening the front door to leave, you found him leaning against the gate enclosing the front of your house. The closing of the door seemed to catch his attention as you heard his voice call out to you.

“Good morning!” You noticed that apart from his school bag, he was holding something else.

Walking up to the gate, you ran a few practice greetings in your head; ones that would lead up to an acknowledgment of your attitude towards him from the day before. Though before you could say anything, as soon as you closed the gate and began walking, he handed you a gift bag.

“These are for you.” He smiled. “I made them.”

Glancing inside, you made out what looked like a small box of sweets. You had no idea he was into baking. Slinging his bag over his shoulder, he dramatically sighed. “And yeah, I guess i’ll try to help that bunch.”

So many things ran through your head as you thought of something to say. Do you just come outright and say it, or do you ask about the gift first? Or maybe you take the ‘Oh, you didn’t have to do this..!’ approach in terms of the gift?

“You gonna say something?” He quipped.

Though, it seemed that in that moment, you forgot how he was as a person, not being the type to sweat the details.

“Sorry about yesterday Tendo.. I didn’t mean to-”

“No worries!” He immediately snapped, a laugh treading along with his words.

A small smile tugged at the corners of your lips as he spoke. With as much as you knew at this point, there was still tons that you didn’t know about him.

✮ - Hoshiumi Korai

“So tomorrow? At 5?” His voice rang throughout your room as you lay on your bed with your phone on speaker.

“Yeah.”

“Alright, but I cant go for too long. I have to wake up early for practice.”

Recently, he’d been really busy, unable to find time to even walk home with you from school as you used to. So it had become a habit for you both to keep up with each other through a phone call before heading to bed.

You knew he was busy with club and all, but was it really that hard for him to make time for you?

Saying goodbye, you slumped your head onto the pillow, wondering what you’d wear as you drifted asleep.

You awoke to your alarm with a headache, already putting you in a less than happy mood. Throughout the day, you lounged around the house and completed chores as you waited for the clock to hit 4:00pm - the time you’d get ready.

It really had been so long since you’d spoken to him in person other than saying ‘good morning’ and ‘see you later’ in class. Slipping into a dress, you recalled how he’d always look out for you, glaring at anyone who’d look at you with bad intentions. When on the sidewalk, he’d make sure to swap sides with you, putting himself closer to the road. He’d also never let you pay when you both ate out.

Sure, he hadn’t been there much recently, but that doesn’t mean he’d never been there.

As you applied a light blush onto your cheeks, your phone sounded with a notification. The time was 4:50, so you expected the notification to be a message from him letting you know he was waiting outside for you. Instead of checking your phone immediately, you peeked outside your window, looking around for where he’d be standing, but he wasn’t there. Confused, you checked the notification on your phone.

“Sorry, I can’t make it today. Something came up.”

Was he serious? A text? and not even a call? And why did he wait until now to tell you? Multiple questions ran through your head as you entered your phone password, immediately calling him.

“Hello-”

“Seriously Hoshiumi? Are you kidding me?” You interrupted. You had waited so long, never mentioning anything to him because you knew how busy he was. But this time was different.

“Hey hey wait, let me tell you what-!”

“No! You do this every time! You’re so busy that you can’t even see me for an hour? So busy that you had to cancel ten minutes before we were supposed to meet up?!”

The other end of the line fell silent. It was out of character him to not respond when the two of you had a falling out. He was as much as a hothead as you were, so this silence wasn’t like him.

“Whatever. Don’t even bother rescheduling it. Bye.”

Lifting the phone off your ear, you could hear his voice as he attempted to retain your attention. But it was too late, seeing as you’d ended the call and thrown your phone onto your bed. You felt so stupid, dressed up and wearing makeup for nothing. You headed into the living room and dropped onto the couch with a sigh. Still dressed and now lying down, your body shook with every sob, lulling you asleep.

Hours later, you awoke to firm knocking on the door. Your family had been out for a few hours visiting some relatives so you figured they had returned. As you walked to the door, you caught a glimpse of the time on the microwave; 11:37pm. That whole ordeal had really knocked you out.

Twisting the doorknob, the person on the other side wasn’t your Dad, nor your Mom, but was instead Hoshiumi. He was dressed lightly, panting, his skin glistening with sweat. Your eyes widened for a moment, not having seen him this closely for a long time. Just as you were about to say something, the events that unfolded hours ago replayed through your head, prompting you to attempt to slide the door back closed.

Though before you were able to, he placed his foot in the doorway.

“Wait.” His voice was steady; serious. He grabbed the door, opening it wide.

You weren’t able to meet his gaze. Part of you was still mad, but the other part knew there was definitely another way you could’ve dealt with it.

He began to explain what happened, why he couldn’t call to tell you, and why he was dressed so lightly. He’d left home immediately once he had finished what had came up, running to your house instead of taking public transport. Your home wasn’t too far from his, but it’d take almost twenty minutes in walking distance.

You remained silent the entire time, eyes welling up with tears as you came to terms with your attitude towards this entire situation.

He tilted his head, squinting his eyes at you. “Are you crying?”

You turned your face in response, attempting to hide the tears which were already streaming down your cheeks. He clicked his tongue, sighing as he wrapped his arms tightly around you.

“Don’t cry anymore. I’m here now, aren’t I?” His tone was gentler than before, something you didn’t expect. One hand held the back of your head as the other wrapped tightly around your back.

You nodded, locking your arms around him in an embrace.

[pushspacetocontinue]

Russell also took a moment to look and listen around. It seemed like no one was in the immediate vicinity just yet. But he knew that people might come sniffing around.

Especially if those thugs went back to tell McCullum that that they were getting rid of a dead body when a vampire scared them off.

"Yeah, they, they gave me that, that feeling," Russell said, before he looked over at Sean.

That might be a good idea. If they did enough digging, they would probably find the hotel he had been staying at.

"Th-thank you, Sean, that's, that's uh, that's real kind of you," Russell said, with a small smile, "I'll, I'll go back, back to the, the hotel, check, check out and, and grab my case."

Luckily, he hadn't unpacked it completely.

"Then I, I can head on over. I, I did notice that they, they don't seem to, to want to bother anyone ar-around the, the Night Shelter," Russell said, "I, I wouldn't wanna impose. My, my flight, my flight home is, is only in th-three days, but, but I can do what, what I can to, to help at, at the shelter at, at, at least."

{Both Jonathan and Sean stood up from being on the floor alongside Russell}

{Once standing upright, Jonathan looked around quietly as he listened to Russell share his concerns and grievances with the entire situation. He'd turned his gaze back towards Russell and nodded.} "One can but hope that they'll take that bait and not bother you any longer, although I wouldn't count on it."

{Sean spoke up next, there was a slight nervous edge to his voice.} "I've the Night Shelter you can stay in for at least the week - just to make sure they won't be hot on your trail, Russell."

[victorluvsalice]

Happy Birthday Nebby!

@nebbychan, as per my favorite of the ideas that you presented, here is Dan and Tim trying to explain the chaos that happened during Dan’s promotion to Captain (as first seen in your story “One Wild Night”) to everyone at the Ball & Socket, with poor Kiya dying of laughter in the background. Hope you enjoy!

--

“Oh, come on, Dan! You gotta be making some of this up!”

“I swear this is all what really happened!” Dan said, crossing a skeletal finger over his breastplate. “Really and truly!”

“He’s telling the truth,” Canny Tim added loyally. “Not a single, er, embellished detail to be had! I was right there in the thick of it with him, and it was all that chaotic!”

“Yeah – in fact, Tim here saved Megwynne in one of his first major acts of heroism while I was up on the pirate ship!” Dan said, wrapping an arm around his friend. “Though he’ll have to tell you that part, I wasn’t around to see it.”

“Later, maybe,” Tim said through pink cheeks. “You were, ah, telling them about breaking the others out of their cell on the pirate ship?”

“Right, right – so I got my hands on Woden’s sword and set about busting the other heroes out!” Dan said, striking a dramatic pose. “I admit, I tried to use the sword to pick the lock first–”

“Why?” Kiya called behind him, the word almost lost in between snorts and giggles.

“Look, I’d already had probably more wine than was good for me, dealt with a drunken king, retrieved the main course of the meal from a hungry dog–” Woof! “–yes, we all know you enjoyed the boar, Lupo – had to stop an upset elephant dragon from burning down the castle, and figure out why a flying pirate ship was raiding the place on what was supposed to be my special day. I was not thinking clearly.”

“I don’t think any of us were,” Tim admitted, running his fingers through his hair. “It was really a most – exciting promotion ceremony.”

“The promotion was the least crazy part of it,” Bonejangles said, Lizzie giggling beside him. “Besides, you know, Dan coming within a couple of inches of ending up like Paul.”

“Yeah, good thing King Peregrine was willing to listen to me, drunk as he was. . .” Dan shook his skull. “Anyway, I figured out how to use the sword to burst apart the lock, then led all the other heroes up to the top deck–”

“You crawled up there!” Woden yelled from his table. “Wincin’ at every little squeak!”

“Hey, I was trying to get us up there unnoticed! Not my fault that the door burst open on the very last step! Nearly busted my nose!”

“And then when you did get above decks, after the rest of us had mopped up the guards, that one pirate scooped you up like it was nothing!”

“All right, but he quickly realized it wasn’t smart to swing around someone who was already feeling seasick,” Dan retorted, folding his arms.

Kiya laughed all the harder. “You throw up?”

“Aaaaall over him,” Dan confirmed, upper jaw flexing in a smirk somehow. “And then he threw me right in front of his captain!”

“Face-first,” Woden pointed out.

“Hey, I still got right back up and chopped his sword in half!”

“Only because you had my sword! Which was promptly stolen from you by that damn swinging pirate covered in sick.”

“A rare sentence, that,” Lizzie observed, causing Kiya to bonk her head against her table.

“You got it back! After I dumped the rest of the pirates off the ship!”

“Another accident!”

“It worked!”

“Everyone, please, let’s just tell the story and not argue about the details,” Tim said, holding up his hands.

“Yeah, before Kiya laughs herself unconscious,” Bonejangles observed, rolling his eye between sockets.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Kiya said, holding her stomach and gasping. “Just – oh dear, I thought our time in London was a mess!”

“Oh, you don’t know the half of it,” Dan said, chuckling. “In fact – we’re up to the ship crashing into the castle now, right Tim? Right after I’d finally freed the king and my poor dog. . .”

[seumyo]

bakugou “do it yourself—no—i’ll do it” katsuki.

In simple theory, you have your husband, Bakugou Katsuki, wrapped around your finger. And he can fight it all he wants, but it’s nothing if not the wholehearted truth.

“Hey, can you grab me some coffee?”

Bakugou didn’t even look up from his phone. “No. Get your own damn coffee.”

“Fine,” you sighed dramatically, turning your attention back to your work. You didn’t miss the way Bakugou grumbled under his breath as he stood up a few moments later. When he returned, he placed a steaming cup of coffee on your desk without a word.

You hid your smile behind the rim of the cup. “Thanks, Katsuki.”

“Whatever,” he muttered, glaring at you.

-

Later that afternoon, you two were sparring in the gym in the comfort of your home—courtesy to your husband insisting that it’s a non-negotiable when arranging the first designs of your dream home together. You were struggling to move one of the heavier training dummies back into its original position, and once again you had the brilliant idea of putting your theory to the test.

What’s the point of having a husband if he doesn’t let you do things like these?

You let out an exaggerated sigh and turned to Bakugou, who was wiping sweat from his brow. For a moment, you forgot what you were about to say—momentarily distracted by how good he looks, muscles glistening and all with his signature black tank top.

Goddamn, you scored a hottie.

“Katsuki, help me move this,” you called, pointing at the dummy.

“No way,” he shot back immediately. “You’re the one who moved it there, so you deal with it.”

“Fine,” you sighed, turning back to the dummy and giving it an exaggerated shove. Before you could try again, Bakugou had stormed over, cursing at the dummy under his breath. He grabbed the dummy with one hand and effortlessly dragged it back into place.

“There. Happy now?” he grunted.

Oh, so it could be resist, then actually do it, or refuse while doing it anyway.

You smiled. “Very. Thanks, Katsuki.”

“Shut up,” he growled, his ears slightly tinged with pink.

-

By the end of the week, it had become a game for you. You’d ask for the simplest things, knowing full well that Bakugou would always refuse—only to do it anyway. Maybe it’s his love language to refuse but comply nevertheless.

“Can you pass me the remote?”

“No. Use your legs.” Hands it over.

“Can you open this jar for me?”

“Do it yourself.” Opens it in one twist.

“Can you get groceries on your way home?”

“Fuck no.” What do you mean he’s already loading the grocery bags in his car?

“Can you carry my bag for a second?”

“Die. I’m not your damn pack mule.” Carries it all the way home.

-

One evening, you two were sitting on the couch of your home, eating takeout and watching a movie. You were cuddled up with a freshly ironed blanket—thanks to Bakugou, who had done the laundry yesterday while you did the ironing when everything had dried enough—poking at your food lazily. You turned to Bakugou, your head resting on the couch cushion.

“Hey, can you grab me some water?” you asked with a sweet smile.

Bakugou glared at you, pausing mid-bite, his usual scowl in place. “No. You’ve got legs. Use ‘em.”

“Okay,” you said simply, turning your attention back to the movie.

You decided that you’ll get water once you finish this specific scene.

Bakugou lasted all of five minutes before he let out a loud groan, stomping to the kitchen and returning with a glass of water. He shoved it into your hands, his expression equal parts annoyed and resigned.

“There,” he grumbled. “Happy now?”

You took the glass with a smug grin. “Thanks, Katsuki. You’re the best.”

He sank back onto the couch, crossing his arms and glaring at the screen. “You’re so damn annoying.”

“You love me,” you said teasingly.

“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered, his ears turning red. But he didn’t deny it.

“Married me, too. So I don’t think you mind at all.”

“Die.”

“‘til death do we part, Kats.”

And despite all his protests, you knew the truth. Katsuki Bakugou might have sworn you’d never have him wrapped around your finger, but with every little thing he did for you—grudgingly or not—you knew you had your conclusion.

Even if it’s a little bit.

SEUMYO © 2024, PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, PLAGIARIZE, MODIFY OR TRANSLATE.

[hollandsangel]

voice | m. sturniolo

i had this idea a million years ago, please enjoy!!

summary: chris wonders if you can tell his and matt’s voice apart

warnings: super fluffy!! a bit suggestive at the very end, i’m questioning if it’s good or not

wc: 1.6k

gif by @mattsturnioloarchive !

“i call shower first!” you exclaim the second the garage door is open, sprinting past matt up the stairs to his bathroom.

“there’s three showers,” chris says matter-of-factly as you blow past him on the steps, holding a hand out in confusion.

matt sighs and follows behind you, passing chris as well, “yeah, but you don’t have to share,” 

you’re already on the mainfloor, running into matt’s bedroom to grab the change of clothes you’d left earlier.

“i’m so glad i don’t have a girlfriend,” chris mutters, earning a smack upside the head from nick, “jesus, fuck, what,”

“you’re just annoying,” nick says, deciding it’s a good enough explanation and getting a laugh out of matt.

“agreed,” matt’s still chuckling when they reach the kitchen table, setting down the take out the four of you had gotten on your way back to the house. he hears the water turn on in his bathroom, accompanied by the soft sound of your voice as you sing along to your music.

“oh she’s a nicki fan,” nick says to no one in particular, referencing the tik tok sound when he notices you’re listening to a nicki minaj song. 

matt looks up from the bag of food and laughs.

chris sinks into the couch but looks over at matt, arm slung over the cushions, “i wonder if she could tell our voices apart,” he says after a second. 

“what?” matt asks, thinking the question is mildy rediculous. 

“like do you think she could recognize your voice?” chris explains, wandering into the kitchen now. opening a pepsi and leaning up against the counter. 

nick chimes in now, having been fiddling with the vlog camera and battery, “like compared to you and me?” he asks chris, glancing back at matt as if to say ‘is this guy for real?’

“yeah,” chris nods.

“yeah, obviously she’d be able to tell my voice apart from yours,” matt is looking back at the food again, tone matter-of-fact, as if what he’d said was absolute common sense. 

chris is quiet for about half a second and matt thinks that’s the end of that absurd conversation. it isn’t, of course. 

“should we test it out?” chris asks through a sip of soda.

matt officially gives up on trying to set the food up, throwing his hands up in mock surrender before turning to chris, “and how are we gonna do that?”

chris shrugs, but nick has an idea, “chris, you could like, just go ask her for something, if you left something in the bathroom—“

“absolutely not,” matt shuts it down immediately with a shake of his head, “you're not going in the bathroom when my girlfriend is showering,”

“i won’t even go all the way in!! i’ll cover my eyes,” chris promises, but matt is still skeptical. “i’ll just like poke my head in the door and ask if i left like..a belt or some shit in there,” is chris’ next offer. 

matt sighs and thinks about it, weighing the pros and cons. of course you can tell his voice apart from his brothers…right? he’s making himself nervous, pysching himself out and worrying they all sound the same to you. it upsets him for some reason, he can’t quite decide why.

“fine,” he agrees after a beat of silence, convincing himself you know whis voice well enough to separate it from chris’, and if you can’t, he thinks he might actually feel a sick twinge of unjustified jealousy.

“yes,” chris mutters under his breath, always excited to pull a prank on anyone.

“this is definitely going in the vlog,” nick says, still messing with the camera and coming to sit at the kitchen table where matt is now.

“i can’t believe i agreed to this,” matt mumbles, rubbing his eyes and taking a deep breath. he stands from his seat and walks over to the wall where he can see the bathroom door, feeling some what protective, like he needs to supervise chris to make sure he doesn’t wander too far into the bathroom.

“what should i say?” chris turns back arms pulled in close to his body as if he’s nervous. he’s already grinning and trying to keep from laughing.

“ooh, call her sweetheart, matt always does that,” nick suggests, wiggling his brows in matt’s direction to tease him.

“oh my god,” matt groans softly, rubbing at his eyes, “i fucking hate you guys,”

“okay, i’m going in,” matt drops his hands at that, eyes on his brother immediately. chris puts a hand over his eyes, just as he said he said he would before knocking on the door. nick has the camera out to record and is trying to stifle his laugh in the collar of his hoodie.

at the sound of the knock matt hears your voice, calling out for him, no doubt thinking it’s him at the door. he has to cover his mouth, partly out of nerves but also to keep himself from saying anything.

“yeah,” chris starts, needing to take a second before continuing because he’s already making himself laugh. “yeah, sweetheart, did i leave my belt in here?” he asks, barely stood in the doorway of the bathroom.

“uhh, i think it’s in your bedroom?” you say after a slight pause, about to poke your head out from behind the shower curtain, but chris has already mumbled a ‘thanks’ and essentially sprinted out of the bathroom, closing the door and crumbling to the floor in giggles.

“you’re not fucking real,” matt shakes his head, laughing softly himself and pushing off the wall to go back to the kitchen table. he’s a bit bummed that you didn’t realize it wasn’t his voice, but he keeps that to himself.

nick pans the camera over to matt’s face, which seems expressionless, even with both his brothers cackling outside of the frame.

you come out of the bathroom in a cloud of steam, heading into matt’s bedroom to drop the clothes you’d changed out of. matt is instantly sitting back up, the legs of his chair scraping along the hardwood floors.

“ooh, someone’s pissed,” nick turns the camera to himself, eyeing the now closed door.

“that was too fucking good,” chris says after a deep breath, still recovering from laughing so hard. he pulls a chair out next to nick and the two start to explain what had happened to the camera, eyes flicking up to matt’s door every few seconds.

in the bedroom you’re putting your dirty clothes back into your bag when matt comes in, looking a little bit pouty, “hey baby,” you turn towards him, laughing at the slightly pathetic look he gives you, “what’s up?” you wonder.

“m’ tired,” he tells you, slumping up against you for a hug. you wrap your arms around him and rub his back, letting him lay his weight into you.

“we’ll eat and go to bed, yeah?” you give his back another little pat when he nods against you, “mkay, let’s go,” you kiss his cheek quickly, only to have him turn his head in search of a real kiss. you oblige of course.

nick and chris have already started eating and updating the vlog on their day when you and matt come out of the bedroom. matt joins them at the table but you head for the fridge to grab a drink. “oh, did you find your belt?” you ask matt, still digging around.

“what?— oh yeah” he mumbles, gaze turned down to his fries.

“okay good. by the way you sounded so much like chris when you came in— it freaked me the fuck out” you say with your head in the fridge, still searching for the diet coke you know you left inside the door, “did one of you drink my coke–”

“wait what?” matt’s head snaps up, food forgotten.

“hmm?” you turn around to find all three boys looking at you. nick’s mouth open in a half smile and chris clearly trying not to burst into a fit of uncontrollable laughter. matt’s just staring at you with eyes a little bit too wide before he speaks up.

“what do you mean i sounded weird?” he asks, leaning forward. you notice nick’s shut up about whatever he was saying to the camera earlier, pointing the lens at you now.

“i dunno, when you said sweetheart it just sounded super fucking weird— why are you guys looking at me like that–” you have to ask, feeling slightly weirded out by the intensity of their gazes

“i knew it!!” matt cheers, punching the air and doing a silly little dance as nick doubles over and starts hitting the table.

chris’ jaw drops and he presses his fingers into his eyes as he laughs next to his brother, leaning on him.

matt bounds over to you with a grin, arms wrapping around your waist and lifting you off the ground slightly.

“whaaaat,” you giggle, clearly confused by their reaction. 

“it was me,” chris manages to say between bouts of laughter, “we– we were trying to see if you could tell our voices apart.”

“of course i can tell your voices apart, especially your voice,” you turn towards matt, saying it like it should be obvious, like it’s silly they doubted you for even a second. 

matt’s just grinning at you, feeling a strange sense of pride swelling in his chest, “i knew you could,” 

“bullshit!” chris exclaims, both him and nick still leaning against each other as they laugh.

“he’s right, you were freaked the fuck out,” nick manages to say between giggles, “you watched chris like a fucking hawk when he opened the bathroom door,” he looks over at you, his smile contagious, “he was definitely freaked the fuck out,”

matt groans and drops his head against your shoulder. you brush your fingers through his hair and chuckle to yourself, “awe matt,” you coo, “i definitely know your voice, i’ll probably be hearing lots of it later anyways.”

tags ! @st4rswrld @urfavvev3lyn @mattsturnioloarchive @averysbestyears @its-jennarose

[kolsmikaelson]

AND THEN THERE WERE THREE…

NOTES — just saw challengers today and absolutely needed to write smth for these two! only used a gif of art because theres none of the two of them and almost none for patrick </3, i’m a little rusty with smut so bare with me

WARNINGS — 18+ content mdni, slight challengers 2024 spoilers, fem!reader, kinda dom!art, pure smut/little plot, art/patrick interactions, talk of previous art/patrick sexual encounters, spit play, oral (m receiving), tit sucking, dirty talk, mentions of anal, little bit of aftercare, not proofread, lmk if i forgot anything!

REQUEST — Pls write a smut fic with reader and Art fucking in the hotel room (with Patrick watching) and reader asking if Patrick can join them and ofc Art can’t say no because he finds the idea of this super hot. Maybe reader makes Art and Patrick make out like in the movie 👀

WORD COUNT — 1.6k

join my taglist or follow @rodrickhefley to see when i post

None of you were too sure how exactly this had started. You, Art, and Patrick had stumbled back into their hotel room after leaving the beach, each of you finding your own place to sit after Patrick opened up a beer, took a swig, and passed the can to you. You’d taken a seat closer to Art, having naturally gravitated towards him more so than Patrick. And quickly, you and Art were making out, leaving Patrick to watch. 

You blamed the beer. And the fact that you found both Art and Patrick incredibly hot. One minute you’re at a party, dedicated to your best friend, Tashi Duncan, and the next you’re sitting on the beach being invited back to the guys’ hotel room, and the next after that, Art is stripping you of your clothes while Patrick takes a seat leaned up against the wall opposite the foot of the bed. 

“Can I-” He begins, fingers fiddling with the hem of your shirt, desperation clear in his eyes. At your nod, Art quickly yanks your shirt over your head and immediately pulls your body flush against his. He’s planting soft, wet kisses up and down your neck as his fingers work the back of your bra. His eyes widen the moment it drops to the ground. 

Giving you a moment's glance he quickly sucks one nipple into his mouth, licking and sucking and biting. Feeling as though he’s neglected the other one, he pinches and tugs on the opposite nipple, smiling around the one in his mouth at the moans you let out. 

“Yeah, baby? You like this? Me with your tits in my mouth and my best friend jerking off while watching us?”

For a moment, you’d forgotten about Patrick. Your eyes shoot open, landing on him instantly. The sight of him, slouched against the wall, his hand already wrapped around his cock, with his eyes fixated on both you and Art. He looked so hot, you weren’t sure how you’d forgotten that he was even there. 

“Mhm, ‘s hot.” you admitted, turning Arts face back to you, tugging his bottom lip back into your mouth. The blond pushes you back onto the beds that were pushed together - Patrick’s idea if anyone were to ask - and begins kissing up your stomach only stopping long enough to kiss each of your nipples. He grabs your face, pushing his fingers into your cheeks, making you open your mouth, before letting a large glob of spit fall from his mouth into yours. 

“Swallow.” He smiles when you do so without complaint, even going as far as to look as if you wanted him to do it again. 

Patrick moans at that, louder than before. Sure he and Art had messed around before, when they were both single and bored and needed a good fuck, that wasn’t new, but hearing that commanding tone in the blonds voice sent a shiver down his spine. 

“God, that was hot.” Patrick sighs, laughing when Art gives him the finger. 

“Fuck off, Patrick.” Both of them know he doesn’t mean it, if he wasn’t wanted there, you or Art would’ve said something, but you didn’t. whether Art knew it or not, both you and he wanted him to stay, and keep watching.

At some point during that interaction, you weren’t sure when exactly, Art had shed his pants and underwear. He was dragging the tip up and down your slit, up and down, stopping every few seconds to slap your clit with it. When your eyes finally landed on his length, it made your jaw drop. He was big, bigger than you’d seen before, he was long and girthy with veins running along the bottom of it. 

He slowly slides into you, admiring the look of pure bliss on your face. He’d never seen anyone look so angelic. The closest comparison he could make was how Patrick looked when he’d first given him a blow job. He wouldn’t call the look on Patrick's face angelic perse, but it was hot, really hot. The reminder of that, and the way you’ve begun clenching around him, spurs him into you. His hips snapping into yours, his heavy balls hitting your ass with each thrust. It was unlike anything either of you had felt before. 

I want him to join.

You weren’t sure that the words had actually left your mouth until the blond on top of you stopped his thrusts, looking into your eyes for a moment. 

“That what you want, baby?” He murmurs, kissing sloppily up and down your neck, shivers running through your entire body at his touch. His fingers falling to your clit, flicking at it. The pleasure was almost enough to make you forget that he’d even asked a question. 

Almost. 

“Please,” Even in your fucked out state, you couldn’t help but want more. 

“Come on, Zweig. You heard her.” Patrick grins, hopping to his feet, although slightly hesitant. He wasn’t sure where to go, or what to do. But his nerves dissolved the moment Art turned around, and gave him that look, one that he knew meant that everything would be okay. It meant that he just needed to get over himself and have a good time, everything would work out. After that he’s on the move towards you, giving Art a harsh slap to the ass as he goes past him, laughing when Art swats back at him. 

Patrick all but flies onto the bed, having kicked his underwear off the moment he stood up, and his shirt is long gone, a mix of yours, his, and Arts clothes are scattered around the hotel room, sure to have lost at least one thing. But none of you had it in you to care, too overwhelmed with pleasure. Your mouth opens before he’s even fully on the bed, but he gets the message, quickly positioning his tip in front of your mouth, thrusting a few times before losing control and fucking your throat. 

The three of you move in tandem for minutes, or maybe it was hours, Art would thrust into you, rubbing your clit with his fingers, while Patrick would be pulling himself out of your mouth at the same time. It felt as though this was a regular occurrence, as though it were normal. And god did you hope it would become a normal thing. The three of you, together, making each other feel good. 

Tapping Patricks thigh lightly, you hum happily when he pulls out of your mouth, giggling at how quickly he begins to check and make sure you’re okay. 

“What? What’s wrong? Are you okay? I didn’t hurt you, did I?” The words come out of his mouth at lightning speed and it’s difficult for you to understand, but Art had and his thrusts slowed to a stop, hands leaving your body, giving you a questioning look as if repeating everything his friend had just said. 

“I’m fine baby,” And then you say something neither of them could quite hear. 

“Gotta speak up for us, sweetheart. Can’t do what you want us to do otherwise.” That comes from Patrick, Art nodding along with him. 

“Want you two to kiss.” The words fly out of your lips and you’re suddenly shy, pressing your face into Patricks thigh, nipping at it softly. 

Both men smirk at you before making eye contact with each other, giving a subtle nod. 

“Well c’mon man, you know how I like it.”

The combination of Arts words, his sudden thrusts and Patrick taking it upon himself to flick at your clit, push you over the edge. The power of your orgasm makes your legs shake, your mind empty of anything this isn’t you, Patrick, or Art. 

They’re still kissing, it’s all teeth and tongue and spit. It’s messy, and it only stops long enough for Arts mouth to fall open, moans spilling out as he comes inside of you, hot spurts of his come flooding your insides, leaving a white ring around the base of his cock as he fucks you through both of your orgasms. 

At this point, Patrick has taken a step back, and is watching again. He’s stroking himself with one hand, squeezing just right and out of nowhere, Art reaches out, cupping the dark haired man's balls, tugging and rubbing on them just the way Patrick likes. The added pleasure sends him crashing over the edge, he barely has the time to move and aim his cum to where you and Art are connected, spilling himself all over your cunt and Arts cock. 

Art pulls out and the three of you fall into a pile of heavy breathing, sweat, spit, and cum on the beds pushed into the middle of the room. Once you all catch your breath, Patrick is the first to speak. 

“Wow.” It was simple, but it made you all burst out laughing. 

“Wow, indeed.” you murmur, pressing a kiss to his pec, turning to do the same to Art. 

“That was fucking hot.” Arts words make you all giggle yet again. 

“Okay,” Patrick leans you into Art and pushes himself off of the bed, “‘m gonna get you two cleaned up, be right back.” He reassures you, hearing you whine at losing his presence. He comes back with a warm washcloth in hand, and a small cup of water in his other. He hands the water to Art motioning for him to take a drink and then give you some as well, while he bends at the waist, resting his knees on the floor and taking the cloth to your core, cleaning you as gently as he could before moving onto Art. Tossing the cloth to the corner of the room he pulls both you and Art into his embrace, enjoying the quiet for a moment before you break the silence. 

“Round two? Whoever makes me cum harder gets to fuck me here first.” You smile slyly, placing your hand on your ass, giggling when Patrick snatches you from Arts hold, muttering something about how he ‘got you first last time and that it’s his turn now.’

[venuslarkspur]

Who’s Gonna Marry The Pink Haired Girls?

—————————

Summary: Squid Game characters with Pink Haired!Fem!Reader <3

Characters: Thanos x Reader, Se-Mi x Reader, Kang Dae-Ho x Reader, Cho Hyun Ju x Reader, Hwang Jun-Ho x Reader.

Warning: typical squid game violence, problematic language, mentions of homophobia and transphobia, slutshaming (none of the characters to reader!), slight angst, drug usage (not the reader),

Thanos (Choi Su-bong)

- You immediately caught his attention, you two stand out the most amongst the other players for your vibrant choice of hair.

- The older players find you slightly intimidating because you don’t fit into their fragile default settings, he don’t gaf though.

- forces everyone else in his group to swear themselves off you.

- Approaches you during the rush to the carousel during mingle, “Oi Señorita!” He says whilst pushing his way through the crowd, he gives you a smug look before speaking again “Join me princess, I’ll protect you.” You visibly cringed at his words, but joined him anyway.

- He does keep his promise, he grabs you and takes you into the room with him. But you’re met with relentless pet names.

- “You good Wifey?” He’d ask while you’re frantically checking the slot hole to check if Se-Mi is okay after he abandoned her on the carousel.

- (YALL KNOW THIS AUDIO) He’s super high once and you check up on him he said “Woah..angels have pink hair..I had no idea.”

- Rambles on about all the places he’s gonna take you to when you get out of here, has to persuade you to vote “O” first; regardless of your choice he would still hit on you non stop.

- You eventually give in to yourself and flirt back, your heart racing a bit; having no idea what would become of you both a few hours later.

Se-Mi (very delulu on this one, SHE’S ALIVE)

I say as they drag me away to the mental asylum.

- You’re immediately drawn to one another because you both stand out amidst the crowd. Thanos initially flirts with both of you; and you bond over it making the same eye rolling motion every time he flirts with one of the two of you.

- You two bond instantly, which starts your trio with yourself, Min-su and her. Nam-gyu finds it nauseating, Thanos just feels left out but leaves you two to it.

- You know that trend on Tik Tok where it’s like “Our friend group with all girls and 1 boy” yeah that’s you two and Min-su.

- When you sneak off to the bathroom to get away from the boys, she follows you. Checks up on you and then nervously shoots her shot, she leans in and gives you a long kiss which you reciprocated, whilst you hold her face. She tells you to stick with her next game. The threat of death really causes people to come closer in such short time.

- When the number 4 is called in Mingle, you watch as Min-su betrays her; however you shove past him and you immediately grab her hand and start searching for a new group, ignoring Thanos calling out to you saying “Hey Señorita! get back here!”

- You run in front of her, hand in hand, frantically searching for a group. Time seems to slow down until you’re grabbed into a room by Players 388 and 390. All you can do is desperately hug and cling to each other whilst thanking the two others who grabbed you again and again.

- You both vote to leave after that, your former teammate Nam-gyu comes at her with a fork, you don’t hesitate to defend her, you’re able to grab a nearby piece of glass that Min-su had thrown and swiftly stab him from behind, guilt immediately consumes you when seeing how he sunk to the floor; but your newly girlfriend’s life was on the line! so you let him sink to his knees and bleed out, as he sweared unspeakable words at you both.

- You’re glued to her side as the rebellion starts, never wanting to let go; only hoping for the best.

Kang Dae-Ho (featuring wing-man Jung Bae)

- Takes notice of you but pretends he hasn’t. It’s not just your breathtaking hair, but your incredible confidence.

- You stick out from the crowd and all the old dickheads in the game make degenerate or gross assumptions about you because of your hair colour and style.

- But it’s your calm and neutral tone which catches him by surprise as player 100 made assumptions about you; which of course fell into the “slut” category, you however just replied with a nonchalant “you know nothing about me.” With the emphasis on ‘nothing’, you walked away from the old bastard, who couldn’t be more than wrong about you.

- But the old prick walks after you shouting at you to ‘look at him when he’s talking to you.’ Dae-Ho, who can sense your social battery dying as you stare back at the man with annoyance, steps between the two of you, before things got nasty. “Don’t speak to a lady that way.” He says and you grin in amusement, hiding the smirk on your face, enjoying this slightly but also somewhat worried for him. Your worry eases when player 001 steps between the two and defuses the situation, you look back to the strange man and mouth a ‘thank you’ to player 388.

- You noticed him and a friend of his struggling to find a 3rd player in Mingle, so you drag him and player 390 into a room with you last minute, he decides wants to thank you on the way down from the stairs, but he has to hide the fact he’s attracted to you as to not scare you. And the obvious fact that this is your first actual interaction.

“Hey.���

“Hi.”

“Thanks back there..” he says whilst gesturing to player 390 behind him.

“It’s no trouble.” You smile back.

Silence dawns on you both, but you keep on walking.

“Uh.. so I’ve noticed you around-“

“I know.” You replied knowingly, your tone teasing and flirty.

- Jung Bae watches this interaction knowingly, whilst Dae-Ho slaps himself in the face as you prance away, ‘if you didn’t like me before, you definitely don’t now’ he thinks to himself.

- Wonders how he can be so dumb until he sees his chance to redeem himself when the circle guards start handing out dinner. He pulls you aside and tells you what player 456 told him, there might be riots in the night, and you should stick by him. You smirked out of pure entertainment.

- “You gonna keep me safe?” You teased. You giggled but saw the disappointment on his face. Is he crushing on you? “Sorry..,thank you handsome! I’ll be there.” You replied and walked back to your bunk.

- A riot does in fact break out, after you voted “X”, so you curl under one of the bunks with him when the screams start. You two (not so) unexpectedly joined hands tightly, for each others benefit and your own as well.

- A brutal series of death matches probably isn’t the best place to find yourself a boyfriend, but you can’t help but wanna kiss him good luck when he goes off with the rest of the group to rebel, so you do, smashing your lips against his before he leaves. Wishing he wouldn’t go.

Cho Hyun-Ju

- You team up with her and another girl when “6 players” is announced on the 2nd game, she sees you immediately, you’re a bit had to miss as your vibrant hair sticks out. You’re immensely drawn to her strong sense of leadership and ambition; just what you loved in women!

- You make flirty remarks at her, she blushes and unknowing of how to react and just says a short “Thank you.” The sweet old woman in your group is pleasantly confused, “Two girls in love?”, she asks questions like that, until her son remarks to her about how “People can love who they want now ma!” And she lets out a confused but supportive “ah.” She means well, she has so many questions on why you ‘did that to your hair?’ But you she’s just being curious, so you answer all her questions.

- is hesitant to try anything romantic with you, she knows you’d face a lot of challenges in the outside world, with her being transgender and you both being a sapphic couple. But how can she plant these seeds of doubt within herself when you’re so sure and persistent.

- She can’t ignore how her heart flutters when you flirt with her, reminding her how perfect she is.

- You’re practically glued together during the start of the rebellion after having lost Young-Mi, you gush at her when she explains how to use the gun to the fellow players.

- You follow after her, ready to step up and go with her to fight. But she pulls you aside back to 007 and 149 and tells you to stay behind, you’re worried and annoyed but she tells you something which changes how you’re feeling. “You’re the last person I want to lose now.” She declared as she placed her hands on your shoulders. “When all this is over, I’ll buy you dinner.” You remarked whilst twirling your hair and she played a sad and also such a happy smile at you, “I’d like that.”

Hwang Jun-Ho

- Let’s say you’re already dating, he notices people glance at you because of your alternative style; but it doesn’t matter that much to him, you’ve been through heaven and hell with him so he doesn’t care how you choose to express yourself.

- You supported him during his quest of finding his brother, but noting happens to explain why he came back barely alive with a bullet lodged in his shoulder. You’re rightfully pissed off, of course you are.

- His mother adores you, she was unsure of you at first; your hair colour is unique, in a good way. You make her son happy so at the end of the day she doesn’t care.

- All the other police at the station recognise you immediately upon entrance, since you like picking him up after work or to get lunch, the fellow officers and receptionist referred to you as his wife; since you’re wearing a promise ring he’d bought you, they don’t know you haven’t tied the knot yet, but you don’t really mind.

- His mother does a lot of asking of when you’re gonna give her grandchildren, you avert your eyes and almost spat out your water the first time you got asked this question.

- He tells you he’s going on another search for the island, this time with help. You’re rightfully annoyed, last time he got shot?! So you make him swear that this will be the last time, and when he comes back you must try and be a normal family, and never speak of this again. He agrees (not that it took much convincing, he’s been waiting to wife you up tbh.)

- So now here you are waiting for his return, anxiously playing with your fingers.

————————

I love this series so much <3

[sloaneispunk]

“too sweet for me”

frontman!in-ho x you

when in-ho developed feelings for you in the games, he realised how much older he was compared to you. but age is just a number…right?

๑⋅⋯ ──── ꒰ঌ ໒꒱ ──── ⋯⋅๑

after the first games, reality set in. you sat on your bed, trying to scrub the blood off your hands and face. you were practically clawing at your arms, but the blood wouldn’t come off. then, you were approached by a man. ‘player 001’ it said on the jacket.

“you’re hurting yourself like that.” the man said to you, kneeling down by your bed.

“i’m fine.” you gave him a weak smile as you stopped.

“come, let me help.” he took your hand, taking the sleeve of his jacket, gently rubbing the dry blood off of your arm as you watched.

“thank you.” you whispered.

“you’re welcome.” he looked up and smiled. “you have some here…” in-ho licked his thumb, hesitating as if he was asking for permission, when you nodded, he cleaned your cheek.

when he was done, you thanked him once more.

“what’s your name? you look awfully young.” he commented.

“y/n…” you said shyly, making his heart swell.

“i’m young-il, it was nice to meet you.” he said before he got up, but you grabbed his arm.

“wait, i uh, c-can you stay?”

in-ho looked down at you, why would you want him to stay?

“i shouldn’t, i-” then, he heard a group of rowdy boys on the other side of the room, the leader with purple hair picking on a weaker girl. “on second thought, i think i should.”

in-ho stayed with you until lights out, keeping an eye out for thanos’ group and making sure that you were safe from them.

how old were you? definitely much younger than he was, but you were so sweet, so innocent. he loved it.

the next day, in-ho hadn’t slept. he had been too caught up watching you sleep, admiring as every hair fell in place, your chest heaving with every breath you took. he couldn’t deny that he hadn’t approached you with a motive. he knew it was wrong, but that didn’t stop him from going to the bathroom when everyone was asleep to jerk himself off to the thought of you.

“y/n, come, have mine. you need to eat more.” in-ho said sternly, passing you his packet of milk as he ate his breakfast with you.

“why? you should have it.” you rejected him, tossing it back to him.

“you need it more than me.”

“i’m not a kid, young-il.” you rolled your eyes playfully at him causing him to chuckle.

you weren’t. so why did he have the urge to protect you?

then, he heard the voice of gi-hun, he turned around. there his real target was. in-ho brought you along as he made his way to the group, approaching them with a friendly smile.

easily, they welcomed you both with open arms, just like how in-ho knew they would.

“so why did you pick ‘o’?” jung-bae asked, mouth stuffed full.

“oh, i just need more money to pay off my debt…” in-ho started. “… i had a wife and kid but i lost them because of my gambling habits.”

the whole atmosphere of the group fell, everyone didn’t know what to say.

you somehow felt guilty. this man was old enough to be your dad, why were you attracted to him? besides he already has a family outside this place. your heart sank, making you look down at your food as the others continued to talk.

“what about you?” you heared in-ho ask, making your head shoot up. “i’m sure your parents must be worried, why do you want to keep playing?” he pointed to the ‘o’ on your jacket.

“it’s just me.” you replied solemnly, “i don’t really have anyone waiting for me.”

you could feel everyone’s eyes on you, staring into your soul as you immediately regretted revealing that part of yourself. you mentally slapped yourself, you were being too vulnerable too quickly.

“hey, it’s okay. when we get out of here, we’ll all continue being friends!” jung-bae nudged your arm, making you smile.

“yeah! we’ll all go eat a feast when we get out!” dae-ho agreed.

in-ho didn’t like that idea, and his face didn’t even try to hide it. he didn’t like that you would hang out with anyone other than him.

‘players please proceed to the next game’

you were terrified. after knowing the stakes at hand, you knew it was suicide continuing, but you didn’t have any other choice. in-ho noticed you stiffen, he gave your arm a squeeze, letting you know that he was still there.

when you reached the second game, you learnt that it was going to be played in groups of five. luckily for everyone, your team already had five members.

you took your seats in a line on the floor, awaiting instructions. in-ho sat in front of you, still ensuring that you were sat close to him as the game commenced.

the first two teams took their places at the start line, both eager to win the games. but it was harder than anyone had thought. eventually, neither was able to complete all stations in time. you watched as they were being taken out by the guards, shot down with no remorse.

you instinctively grabbed onto in-ho as you gasped at the gnarly sight in front of you. if you didn’t get your head in the game, that would be you soon enough.

“what are you thinking about?” in-ho questioned when you had failed to answer him, lost deep in your thoughts.

“i’m scared, young-il.”

“nothing will happen to you, i promise.” he replied, ruffling your hair. “stay strong for me.”

you nodded.

when it was your turn, you could feel your legs shaking with every step you took. in-ho was the first to link your arms with his, giving you a subtle smile to calm your nerves.

as the game started, the team made their way to the first station. dae-ho picked up the ddakji, throwing it once, hard onto the ground. by some miracle, the blue envelope had flipped and everyone cheered.

at the second game, jung-bae took the stone from the guard. you shifted closer to in-ho, giving him space to aim. in-ho took the opportunity, pulling you close against him, you were everything at that moment. he could feel the warmth radiating off you, your smell filling his nostrils, making his head dizzy. he barely noticed when everyone cheered once more ehen the stone had been easily knocked down.

then, it was your turn.

“breathe.” in-ho whispered in your ear when he noticed how shaky your hands were.

to his surprise, you had managed to pass within a single try. he cheered you on louder than anyone in the team, moving on the the next game.

even as he spun the spinning top, your arm never left his. maybe it was a good luck charm, because he too was able to spin it on his first try. part of his was relieved because he didn’t embarrass himself in front of you but another was disappointed. in-ho had planned this moment out for so long, he would fail multiple times to keep gi-hun on edge. it was funny how just by having you there he had screwed up his whole plan, he didn’t know whether to love or hate it.

naturally, gi-hun had also made it without having any redo’s. everyone was estatic as they were being led out of the game room, but in-ho was off.

then, he felt a small hand on his shoulder causing him to turn around only to be met with your face.

“are you okay?” you asked as you caught up with him. “we did it, why do you look so down?”

“just surprised i guess.” he said, trying to brush it off.

walking back into the room, you were approached by thanos and his team.

“you goons made it back, huh?” thanos jeered, arms crossed as he looked you up and down.

that didn’t go unnoticed by in-ho. he slapped the boy across the face, shocking him as he gasped dramatically.

“look at me when you’re talking to me.” in-ho spat.

“who are you? is this your boyfriend, girl? isn’t he a bit too old?” thanos laughed. but in-ho didn’t take it lightly, punching him, causing him to fall to the ground as his nose started to bleed.

“young-il, that’s enough.” you stopped him before he could take it further.

with one last look of disgust, in-ho walked off, leaving the boy on the floor.

in-ho might not have realised it but that comment took a toll on him. it made him realise how true his words really were. he was in his 50s and you were so much younger than him, it wasn’t right for him to feel how he felt towards you.

“young-il, what happened-”

“go away, y/n. i don’t even know why you care so much.” he raised his voice, pulling his arm away before you could touch him.

you were dumbfounded, taking a step back as your eyes filled with tears that threatened to spill.

did that come out too harsh? he hadn’t mean to snap at you, he was just so caught up in everything.

you simply nodded, heading back to the team as he stood there alone, regret overwhelming him as he cursed under his breath.

that night, he couldn’t sleep. how could he? he tossed and turned in his bed, trying to erase your pitiful face from his mind. eventually, he got up, walking towards your bed, but you were gone.

he started to panick, rushing towards the guards, pushing pass them to leave the room. as he practically ran pass the bathroom, he heard soft cries. shit.

he barged in, “y/n? are you here?” you didn’t reply.

he went to the only closed stall and gently knocked, making sure that he didn’t scare you. “y/n, open the door. it’s me.”

“go away.” he heard your muffled voice.

he really did mess up.

“honey, open the door, let me in.” he pleaded.

after a few moments, he heard a click. then, he saw you, sitting on the floor with tears running down your cheeks, your eyes and lips puffy from crying.

“oh, darling.” he cooed, kneeling down, just like how he did when you had first met. “why are you crying?”

you didn’t reply, only gazing up at him with sadness in your eyes. he didn’t need you to tell him what was wrong, he knew.

he sat down, pulling you close to him, letting you cry into his chest as he held you.

“i’m sorry, i didn’t mean it.” he murmured into your hair. “please don’t cry.”

his heart broke all over again with every tear that fell. he had hurt the only person that didn’t deserve any pain in this place.

what was he going to do? he had never felt this kind of weakness before, he almost felt vulnerable with you. you needed him and he needed you too.

[classyrbf]

requesting smth for nanami, choso, or toji….. i’ve been obsessed with the idea of grinding on someone’s thigh while getting my tits sucked on🤤 i feel like this could work as like a teasing thing or a reward thing or a punishment thing…yeah

SHE LIKE IT NASTY! — CHOSO KAMO

SYNOPSIS...what’s better than sitting on your boyfriend’s lap while he sucks on your tits? Nothing, absolutely nothing

INFO...choso x fem!reader, thigh grinding, nipple sucking, praise, cumming in panties, not proofread

OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated

thank you for the request, and I hope you enjoy!

Choso knew you had been waiting so patiently for him while he played videos games with his friends. The entire time he could see you squirming on the bed, staring at him until he was done playing. He knew his girl deserved a reward. No matter how needy you got, you stayed in your place, keeping your hands to yourself, and keeping quiet no matter how hard it was.

“Can you pay attention to me now, Cho?” Your sweet voice called out to him. The bed shifted under your weight as you got up, feet pattering against the carpeted floor. “Please?”

He turned off his PC, removing his headphones before staring up at you. “What is it that my girl needs so badly?” His hands rested on the back of your thighs, gently rubbing your smooth skin. He pulled you closer so that his leg was in between yours. “Feeling needy? Don’t be shy about it,” he said with a soft chuckle, pulling you down so you were sitting on his thigh. “Gimme a kiss.” He gently grabbed your chin, placing his lips on yours.

You kissed him back almost immediately, your arms finding solace around his neck while your lips moved in sync, swiping your tongue across his bottom him. You could feel yourself growing wetter by the second, so hot and turned on, ignoring your needs all day. You didn’t even realize you were rocking your hips against his leg, your body trying to find release on its own. It wasn’t until Choso pulled away with a smile, looking down at what you were doing. “You grinding against my thigh, baby? Go ahead, I don’t mind.”

You almost felt embarrassed, looking away from your boyfriend because no matter how much of a bitch in heat you looked, you couldn’t stop even if you tried. It felt to good, feeling the fabric of his jeans and the fabric of your panties press up against your needy clit, rubbing against it. Breathy whimpers escaped your throat, his hands comfortably on your waist as he guided your hips back and forth even faster.

You lifted your head to look at him, biting down on your lower lip as you took in the pleasure coursing through your body, feeling your nipples harden under your shirt and your heart beating against your ribcage. “Keep that pace, just like that. Good girl.” His cold hands slipped under your shirt as he leaned into your neck, placing wet kisses along your warm skin, swiping his tongue over collarbone. Your eyes fluttered shut, finding yourself in pure bliss.

Choso sneakily moved his hands up your waist, finally finding the mounds of your tits, feeling how hard your nipples were and just how turned on you were. “Someone’s gotta take care of these pretty tits, baby. They’re not getting any attention at all,” he cooed, lifting your shirt over your head and tossing it to the floor. He cupped your tits in his large hands, massaging the mounds of flesh in his palms while toying with your sensitive nipples. That’s when he leaned in, taking your nipple in his mouth, his tongue hot and wet swiping moving around in circles.

“Cho,” you moaned, gasping lightly at the feeling. Your hand entangled in his hair, rocking your hips even faster, humping his thigh. “That feels so good—ah!” You were caught off guard by the feeling of him gently nibbling on your nipple but soon the small amount of pain dissolved into pleasure.

He made sure to give equal amount of attention to each of your tits, squeezing the other in his hand while tweaking your perky nipples between his pointer finger and thumb, switching sides when needed. “These pretty tits are all mine,” he mumbled, kissing down your sternum, making sure to leave his mark. You gripped his hair tighter, still moving your hips back and forth along his thigh, that familiar feeling beginning to build up. Your pussy was soaked, rubbing into your own mess, feeling it through your panties. You were sure you left a wet spot right on his jeans too. But you didn’t care.

“Cho…I-I’m close. Please, please, don’t stop,” you said with such keen. You were so desperate to cum, having been waiting all day for this. And with the feeling of his tongue on your nipples and your clit rubbing against him, you were bound to cum any second. “Nnngh! Yes, yes, yes!” Choso flicked his tongue over your raw nipples, sucking and biting on them as he waited for the moment you came right in your panties. He loved watching the way you were enjoying yourself, being so horny and desperate that you were gonna cum from humping his thigh.

He released your nipple with a pop, softly kissing each of them. “Be a good girl and cum right on my thigh. Make me proud, baby.” He laid his tongue flat against your skin, lazily circling the hardened bud.

“Fuckkk, I’m cumming!” You cried, shaking above, your entire body twitching as your orgasm took over. You held onto him tightly, sweetly moaning like music to his ears. He gripped your hips, moving them back and forth to make sure you dragged every last bit of your orgasm out of you no matter what.

After a few more seconds, you were finally done, mind completely spent. Choso wrapped his arms around you tightly, staring up at your hazy gaze. “For what you wanted, pretty girl?” He asked, a smile on his face. You simply nodded at him, trying to catch your breath. “You deserve it. Come here.” He pulled you down by your neck, slowly kissing you, swallowing your little whimpers. Safe to say this might be one of the best rewards you’ve had in while for being such a patient girlfriend.

[buckyalpine]

18+ Minors dni Enemies to lovers with some massage therapist Bucky. Breeding kinnk, aftercare, Bucky is a secret softie, all that.

Imagine Rival Biker Bucky x f reader. A smutty, slutty little concept while I add the finishing touches to another fic, just getting this out of my system first. I just love the idea of a sexy, bad boy Bucky getting his hands on the one girl who won't give him a second glance because she's too good for him and they're from opposite worlds. Since childhood. Now he's a biker. Covered in black ink. He works in an auto shop. Owns the bar that brings in chaos. He's smoke, whiskey and leather.

She, however, is soft, pretty, smart and does not have the time to entertain someone like him. She has her degree. Working on a second. She has a career. She does not associate with the likes of him, not as the police chiefs daughter. She'll be damned if she has to even breathe the same air, especially when his gang is the cause for half the problems in the town that her father has been trying to get rid of.

Now, imagine that hours of working on her notes and papers leave her with unbearable knots and kninks in her back. She doesn't want to take a break but the pain only gets worse as the week goes by. It doesn't take long for her to shoot her regular massage therapist a message to book the very first available appointment.

-

You unclasped your bra, folding and setting it off to the side while waiting for Wanda in the warmly lit room. You could have sworn she was a witch with the way she made pain disappear; she’d also become a good friend after your many visits.

The knock at the door interrupted you as you slid your shorts off, leaving you in your panties, not rushing to jump onto the table considering it was just Wanda anyway.

“Come in!” You smiled, making your way to the massage bed as the door clicked open- “Oh my God!!” You nearly shrieked seeing Bucky walk in, a shit eating from spreading across his face as you scrambled to grab the tiny towel to cover yourself though it was a futile attempt. “What the hell are you doing here?!”

"You have an appointment, don't you?" He quirked an eyebrow as if it was clear as day why he was there.

"Yeah, with Wanda, why are you here, did you get lost on the way to jail?" Your face scrunched in a mix of confusion and disgust ignoring the roll of his eyes while you snatched your shirt to better cover up.

"Well Wanda couldn't make it in but she sent me" He said with a shrug, sighing when he saw your less than impressed face, "Don't flatter yourself, I'm just training under her as part of my physiotherapy internship"

"I'm sorry, you're trying to tell me you of all people are learning how to give massages? Please"

"Physiotherapy" Bucky corrected, "You're not the only one who has a degree, princess" Bucky watched as you groaned realizing you hadn't put your bra on, opting to stuff it in your bag instead of putting it back on in front of him.

"You are NOT laying a finger on me-ow!" You hissed, feeling the knot in your back tug at the rest of your muscles.

"You're not gonna be able to do a whole lot with that much pain" Bucky smirked, only half joking. He wasn't wrong. The pain was worse than before and you needed this an you really didn't have the time to reschedule.

"Fine" You mumbled, turning away from him so you could take your shirt off again, glaring at him when you noticed he hadn't turned away. "Could you at least give me some privacy instead of lurking in the corner like a pervert"

"Whatever you want, princess" He bit his lip as he faced the wall, hearing your feet pad across the tile to lay down on the massage table.

"Alright" You huffed after covering your lower body with the towel, now laying face down, immediately second guessing yourself as he walked over.

"Let me know if anything's uncomfortable or if you want me to stop" His voice was no longer snarky; in fact he sounded professional. "Where do you feel the most tension?"

"Um-shoulders and-lower back" You mumbled out the last bit, he was going to massage you there anyway so there so no pointed hiding it. You tensed at the feeling of his oiled fingers starting to work at your muscles, he had no right to be that good. At all.

“Shit” you hissed trying to keep your voice down, ignoring the clench of your stomach feeling his rough fingers press down on the areas that were tight. Little did you know Bucky was struggling far more than you were.

It went against every bit of professionalism he had. Every moan you tried to silence went right to his cock, his hands making their way lower before trailing up again. Fuck, you sounded so pretty...

"Better stop making those sounds"

"Or what" You challenged back before you could even stop yourself.

"Princess..."

"Your attitude is what needs fixing" Bucky growled, professionalism be damned, "fuck this"

-

You have no idea how you ended up here. It didn't matter though, not when there wasn't a single cohesive thought in your brain as you wailed letting Bucky absolutely rail you. Your back didn't feel an ounce of pain as he took you on all fours, pulling your hips to slam back against him, gripping your ass with enough strength to leave you sore.

"Feel better now huh baby, not trying to stay quiet anymore, are ya" He let out a low chuckle which melted into a groan feeling you tighten on his dick, "Such a good little princess like you letting me put my dick in you, dirty girl"

You hate to admit it but the clench of your cunt betrays how much you love this. It was so wrong. You had no business fucking someone like him and yet where you were letting his precum paint all over the inside of your walls.

"What would your daddy say princess, if he knew where you were right now, what you were doin'? Thinking you're studying when you're actually all pretty and naked, letting me rub that gorgeous body up and down, bet you'd let me put my cum in you too, huh? Bet your dad would love that, his perfect little girl all knocked up with some bikers baby"

You could have said no, stayed silence, just about anything but nope. You screamed feeling his fingers reach around the massage your clit, your orgasm wasting no time hurling towards you.

"Ja-Ja-JAMESSS"

"MMMPHH I love the sound of that baby, could get used to hearing you sayin' my name, say it again princess, say my name with my cock in you, c'mon, that's it"

"Fuck-James-I-James" You were a mess and loving every bit of it, tears starting to flow down your cheeks, all the pent up stress you were feeling finally releasing. You felt your throat tighten, a sob escaping your lips as you let go, your arousal making a creamy mess on the dark curly hair on the base of his cock.

"God, you're milkin me, you want my cum that bad huh baby, want a little biker baby in that tummy of yours, I'll give it to you, give you so much I might even put twins in there-FUCKK"

-

"Shhhh" Bucky cooed, wrapping you up in a fluffy towel while cuddling up your limp body, wiping away any remnants of tears while you stayed floating in a subby, post sex haze. "I got you, you did so good princess" You only manage to let out a weak whimper, giving into his warm, thick arms that rock you.

"You alright angel?"

"Mph" you mumble against his chest and he reaches over for a glass of water that's nearby, bringing it up for you to take a sip. You're surprised at how sweet he's being, drinking up before snuggling into him again. Damn him for being so warm and comfy.

"Y'know, there might be a little Bucky in there" He whispers with a playful smirk in his voice, fingers tickling your lower belly, chuckling when you narrow your eyes at him.

"You wish" You sass back, ignoring the butterflies you feel.

"I do" He admits, biting his lip, his previous cocky demeanor replaced with a shy one, though he tries to mask it. Poorly. His cheeks are pinker than the time you threw paint on him for pulling your pigtails. When you were both 4. "I'd want Bucky jr. to have your brains though"

Imagine that incident sets off a very interesting chain of events. A confession of feelings. You both couldn't be happier, meanwhile your father is grumbling about how he knew this fuckin' day would come, God damn it.

"I never liked that boy" He struggles to keep a scowl on his face watching you giggle like you were 4 again, running to the door as soon as you hear the rumble of his bike.

"Shut up, you love him" Your mom chides, watching Bucky swoop you up for a loving kiss, heading you a bouquet of yellow flowers as he always does.

-

"I still don't like 'em" Your dad says while you roll your eyes, your arm linked with his as he walks you down the aisle.

"Is that why all the files you had to build a case against him all suddenly went missing?" You tease and your dad shugs.

"Wasn't me"

-

just an idea.

[verstappenverse]

Revved Up

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Reader

Summary: Max grows jealous after your Instagram post attracts unwanted attention, including from an ex.

Authors Note: Do I actually believe Max posts on his own instagram these days... let alone would post with a 'scandalous' caption...no? but this is fiction so it's all good 😂

1.4k words / Masterlist

Max was sitting on the plush leather couch in your shared Monaco apartment, flipping through TV channels with all the enthusiasm of a man waiting for a commercial break. He glanced at the large floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the stunning Mediterranean view, but even that wasn’t enough to distract him. It wasn’t the usual race strategy or upcoming practice sessions that had him restless—it was something far more personal.

You.

More specifically the photo you had posted on Instagram earlier that day, a simple mirror selfie, a little scandalous but nothing crazy. You looked radiant, sure, but that was normal for you. You were always beautiful to him. What had caught his eye was the flood of comments, the notifications popping up every few seconds as he scrolled through your post.

He kept scrolling eyes narrowing as the likes kept ticking upwards. Then he saw it.

Your ex.

The guy who clearly hadn’t gotten the memo that you were Max Verstappen’s girlfriend, because clearly he didn't see an issue with leaving a flirty comment that set Max’s nerves on edge.

'Looking gorgeous as always' it read, with an obnoxious little winking emoji at the end.

Max’s fingers tightened around the remote as the thought of some guy—especially your ex—thinking he had any right to compliment you in that way made his blood boil. You were his. The world knew it, but apparently some people needed reminding.

He didn’t say anything when you had walked into the living room earlier, cheerfully oblivious to his growing annoyance. Instead he had kept quiet, but now it was simmering just under the surface. Jealousy wasn’t a feeling Max was used to; on the track he was calm, confident, but when it came to you, his cool, collected exterior faltered. Especially when some idiot tried to act like he still had a chance.

You entered the room now wearing a loose sweatshirt and leggings, a casual look that contrasted with the glamorous image you had posted earlier. Max glanced at you his jaw tightening, you could sense something was off.

“Max, is everything okay?” you asked, tilting your head as you grabbed your phone from the counter. You didn’t even have to unlock it before he spoke.

“That picture,” he said abruptly, his Dutch accent thicker than usual, which tended to only happen when his emotions were running high. His fingers tapped on the arm of the couch in an impatient rhythm.

You furrowed your brow. “What about it?”

He leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest and you could see the tension in his posture. “Your ex commented on it.”

“Oh,” you said, blinking in surprise. You hadn’t noticed.“I didn’t even see that.”

Max didn’t like the idea of you looking at that idiot’s comment again, but you opened the app and scrolled down anyway finding the offending message almost immediately.

You rolled your eyes and let out a light laugh. “Seriously? He’s such a loser. I haven’t talked to him in forever.”

Max didn’t seem to find it as amusing as you did. His frown deepened. “Yeah, well, he still thinks he can leave comments like that. Like I’m not here.”

You couldn’t help but smirk at his grumpy tone. “What, are you jealous?”

His reaction was immediate. “Jealous? Me? No...” He paused. “I mean... you know how many people liked that picture?”

You raised an eyebrow, amused by how serious he looked. “Max, it’s just Instagram, I think the point is to like pictures," you laughed, but his expression didn't change,"Max come on it’s not a big deal.”

“Not a big deal?” he repeated, his voice rising slightly, though he still sounded more irritated than actually angry. “Everyone’s drooling over you in the comments. And then there’s him.”

You couldn't help chuckling again and slid onto the couch next to him, pressing your hand against his knee. “Are you worried someone’s going to steal me away?”

He gave you a look, his lips twitching upwards at the edges, betraying the smallest hint of a smile. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re being ridiculous.” You leaned closer, brushing your lips against his cheek.

Max sighed dramatically throwing his head back against the cushions. “Maybe I should just post a picture with you, remind people who you belong to.”

“Oh, who I belong to?” you teased, poking him playfully in the ribs. “That sounds a little possessive.”

There was a teasing glint in his eye now, but you could still feel the underlying jealousy. “Can you blame me?”

You bit your lip to keep from laughing, enjoying how worked up he was getting over something so trivial. Seeing him this riled up over some stupid comment was kind of… adorable. You kind of loved when he got all possessive, even if he wouldn’t admit it outright.

“No, I guess I can’t blame you,” you sighed, leaning your head on his shoulder. “But you know I don’t care about those comments, right? Especially not from my ex. I didn’t even notice it.”

“Maybe you should block him,” Max muttered back to sounding grumpy.

You laughed again, unable to stop yourself. “Max it’s fine, if it’ll make you feel better of course I’ll block him. But I need you to know I never think about him.”

He softened a little at that, his arm instinctively wrapping around your shoulders. “You better not.”

You smiled, nuzzling into him the warmth of his body calming. “Besides, none of those guys commenting are Max Verstappen now are they?”

“Exactly,” Max said, and there was that cocky smile you loved so much. The mood lightened as his fingers brushed through your hair. “None of them stand a chance.”

You grinned up at him. “And neither does my ex, so you can relax.”

He seemed to settle after that, his hand lazily stroking your arm as the tension eased out of his shoulders. “Good. But still…”

“Still what?”

“I think I should post a picture with you. Just to make sure everyone knows.”

You snorted. “You just want an excuse to show off.”

“Can you blame me?” he repeated, his eyes glinting with mischief as he reached for his phone. “Come on, one picture. Let me remind everyone you’re mine.”

You rolled your eyes, but a smile tugged at your lips. “Fine. Just one.”

Max scrolled through his phone finding the perfect shot of you two together arms wrapped around each other, he quickly typed out a caption and hit ‘post.’ Not long after, your phone buzzed with notifications. His fans were quick, already liking and commenting on the post.

You glanced at it over his shoulder, chuckling at the caption: Just a reminder—she’s mine.

“Oh my God Max,” you groaned playfully. “You’re ridiculous.”

He shrugged, completely unbothered. “What? It’s true.”

You laughed and shook your head, leaning into him once more. “You really are something.”

“I know,” he said, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “And don’t you forget it.”

The rest of the evening passed in a much lighter mood. The TV hummed in the background, but neither of you paid much attention to it. Instead, you spent the time teasing Max about his jealous streak, much to his dismay.

“You know I never thought I’d see the day when Max Verstappen got jealous over a social media comment,” you teased, curling up beside him on the couch.

He rolled his eyes, a playful smirk on his lips. “I’m not jealous. I’m just… protective.”

“Sure, that’s what we’ll call it.”

“Okay, fine. Maybe I was a little jealous,” he admitted, pulling you closer. “You’re kind of amazing.”

You beamed up at him, feeling a rush of warmth at his words. “Well good thing I’m all yours, huh?”

“Good thing,” he agreed, leaning down to kiss you, slow and sweet. When he pulled away, he added kiddingly “What about, no more selfies without me in them.”

You laughed and nudged him playfully. “We’ll see about that.”

But deep down, you didn’t mind the way Max was with you. The way he got protective, a little possessive, and sometimes even a little jealous. Max was known as a fierce competitor on the track, but when it came to you, his heart felt just as fierce, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.