#I even had to pause while typing this post and come back to it. It's dire

[distuff]

How about ‘would they be jealous if you were talking to/hanging out with someone for a long time’? Just how would they act with jealousy for all the saja boys, or baby and mystery if u don’t want to do all of the saja boys

Answer: Hello my dear readershi! Thank you for the prompt. As it gives me a tOn of creative freedom lol I hope you'll enjoy what I've created for ya ( ´ ꒳ ` ) Also! arigatou for givin mhe a choice, bUt I'll happily do all of 'em for ya. Note. The person who asked for another jealousy troupe, as well, please note that yours will be posted tomorrow if nothing major comes in between🙌

📍Requests: Please, check my Bio.

꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦

Demon Boys' And Others With You

Featuring: Jinu Saja, Abs Saja, Mystery Saja, Romance Saja, Baby Saja Reader: Gender neutral

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Jinu Saja

🐦‍⬛ So. Let’s get one thing straight. Jinu was not the jealous type. Why bother? I mean really! He’s a demon for crying out loud! He can shift into the most handsome being, conjure up anything he wants with a snap of his fingers if he so much as wished to. He had no reason to be jealous of others - if anything, others should be jealous of him.

🐦‍⬛ So why is it that when you tell him you’ll have to cancel your date because of this “other person”, he feels like… he doesn’t have everything? His silence must have been confirmation for you. Or maybe it was the call from that other person in the background that made you hang up with a quick, “Love you!”

🐦‍⬛ Jinu doesn’t know - nor does he care as much as he cares about the setup in front of him. It took effort to kick the other guys out and get the living room to look the way it did now: pillows spread on the floor, fluffy blankets tossed around, and a perfect mix of warm and cold snacks for your lazy night together. Some random movie was already playing quietly in the background.

🐦‍⬛ It took considerable self-restraint not to set the calling device - “phone,” as humans called it - on fire, or smash it to bits. Instead, he threw it onto the couch with a dramatic groan, scowling at the feeling curling tight in his chest. It felt far too familiar for his liking - a reminder of his pathetic past.

🐦‍⬛ Jinu brushed it off the first time. Whatever. Fine. You had a life outside of him. Who cares! Not him! ... The Tiger and the Magpie gave him unimpressed stares. Or at least, the bird did. Tiger - Jinu hoped - was trying to console him, especially when he slowly walked over… only to pass him without pause and disappear into Jinu’s room. “Ungrateful cat…” Jinu muttered.

🐦‍⬛ The second time? It wasn’t even supposed to be just the two of you. The guys were also there to hang out with the two of you. Jinu refused to acknowledge the tick in his brow when you told him over the “phone” that you’d unexpectedly had to meet up with someone else.

🐦‍⬛ Jinu also pointedly ignored the sidelong glances the others were giving him. Baby looked utterly disinterested in this matter, while the rest tried to hype him up in their own... unique and completely unnecessary ways- Jinu takes it back. Baby wasn’t the asshole this time. Safe to say, when it kept happening, Jinu was starting to seriously consider binding you to him with a demonic contract.

Jinu would’ve congratulated you - for managing to make him think about anything other than his mission or his desire to reclaim his soul. But you weren’t here. Again. It wasn’t like you two didn’t hang out at all anymore... but it was less than what Jinu was used to. With a heavy sigh, Jinu closed his eyes, pressing his forearm against them as he lay sprawled in bed. Who knew what hour it was? Judging from the low hum of the honmoon barrier mingling with the underlying energy of the others, it wasn’t late enough for them to rest. Not that they needed to - but it helped pass the time when there was nothing else to do. Like right now. Right now, when Jinu could - should - be focusing on the reason he was even in the human world to begin with. But he couldn’t. Because every time he tried, his mind circled back to you. To the thought that maybe you’d figured out who - what - he was. That maybe he didn’t have whatever it was you were looking for... and you were seeking it in someone else. “Ridiculous...” he muttered. Unsure if it was aimed at himself or the situation. His thoughts betrayed him, replaying moment after moment with you. His hand reached automatically for Tiger, who had curled up on his stomach and was now purring softly. Comforting. He thought of your first meeting. The first time you went out to dinner and actually made him laugh - really laugh, not the practised kind he’d perfected over centuries. The way you smiled when you were just being you, and how that let him ease into showing bits of himself - shifting between disguise and truth. He remembered introducing you to the others. The way you slowly, but surely easier into his life more. You even hung out with th—

Jinu's eyes snapped open. He shot upright so suddenly that Tiger had to duck off the bed to avoid being smacked in the face. Jinu sat there, eyes blown wide, as a memory slammed into him like a newly turned demon. He hadn’t corrected either of them. You hadn’t been with them at the time - but knowing those idiots? There was no telling when they might’ve run into you without mentioning it and just blurring the same words in front of you. Teasingly or not, Jinu could easily imagine you not taking it well. Could it be…? His eyes narrowed, glowing gold for a brief second before flicking back to black as his ears strained, hearing the phone on his nightstand vibrate seconds before ringing. He glanced at the screen - then instantly answered it, pressing the phone to his ear. Your voice, as beautiful and soothing as always, spilled into the quiet and Jinu felt tension he didn’t even know he was holding unravel inside him. “Jinu~ Why aren’t you sleeping?” He pulled one knee up to rest his elbow on it, a soft smile tugging at his lips as he answered just as gently, “Who says you didn’t wake me up, hmm?” It seemed it was late for a human then. Hearing you laugh and shifting around in the background, Jinu zeroed his attention on you. “Because when you sleep, you sleep, hahaha!” Not true, Jinu thought - but didn’t say. He was wide awake plenty of times. But if pretending to be asleep meant you’d play with his hair longer, he’d do it every time. There was a pause. He could only hear your breathing. And usually, that was enough. It brought him peace. But even across the distance, he could feel your hesitance. A subtle uncertainty within your honmoon signature that made something twist in his chest.

Why are you hesitating… with me?

He pressed the phone tighter to his ear, fingers twitching with the urge to reach for your wavelength through the barrier as the hollowness in his chest thrummed with quiet ache. Before he met you, the void was easier to ignore - insatiable, familiar. But now… even if it wasn’t full, you brought warmth. A soft light that flickered in the emptiness where a soul should have been.

He didn’t want to go back to that empty place. He didn’t want to go back to before you. “Jinu?” you finally said his name, and the hesitation in it made him tense again. He wanted to ask, What is it? He wanted to ask, Are you going to end this? But his thoughts spiralled too fast to settle on just one question. Which was ridiculous. He had nothing to lose and nothing to give you. This whole... arrangement wasn't even there to last... That should’ve made it easier. Should’ve. But did not. Jinu let out a deep breath, realising you wouldn’t continue unless he showed he was listening. Shifting, he lay back on the pillow, gripping the phone tightly. “Yeah?” he finally breathed, ignoring Tiger’s piercing gaze and Magpie’s scrutinising stare from across the room. He expected a lot. Maybe an awkward apology - not that you needed to apologise. He’d never outright said anything was wrong. Maybe you’d tell him you weren’t comfortable anymore. Maybe— That’s why, when your next words came, his eyes widened, and he blurted the first thing that came to mind. “Is something wrong?” you asked, unsure and worried. “No—No. Pffft. Nooo—why would you think that?” he said, way too quickly. Even a blind human would’ve known something was off. Another pause. Then a sigh. “Jinu…” you said his name with a tired, warning tone. He grinned shakily, even though you couldn’t see it. “Yeeees?” he drawled, teasing - but you huffed. He could almost see your expression: the smile tugging at your lips, the brow you always raised when he was clearly bullshitting. Then there was silence again. This time, Jinu broke it. With a heavy sigh, his shoulders sagged. Under Tiger’s drilling gaze, Magpie’s quiet judgement, and your pressing silence he finally admitted what had been weighing him down. “You never—” No, that wasn’t right. He inhaled and tried again. “We don’t spend as much time as we used to and I - I can’t help but wonder if… the person you always seem to prefer has something I… don’t.” He couldn’t hide the flush in his cheeks. Embarrassed. But it was either say it or let it rot the short-lived connection that brought him comfort. Thankfully, you didn’t let him stew for long. “Baboya~” you said fondly, and Jinu could hear your smile. “These people are just part of the project I was assigned to.” Jinu blinked. Speechless. “…Project?” he echoed. Barely registering this "person" were "people". You laughed gently. “Yes! Hahaha! I really do apologise. Looks like I forgot to tell you… It’s just hard to focus on all my responsibilities when I’m with you, Jinu. I promise! This time, I won’t bail on you, ’kay?” He felt his face soften into a grin. Something in his chest buzzed - there may be no heart in his core, but he could still feel the growing warmth. He bent forward, clutching his shirt with his free hand, grinning like an idiot. “You better… You don’t want me to steal you right in front of them, do you?” You laughed, probably thinking he was joking. But Jinu wasn’t. Not even a little. Your words reassured him that he was enough - but after everything he’d experienced, he wasn’t going to let anyone take your time meant for him. He wasn’t that reasonable of a “man.”

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Abs Saja

💪 Abby had no issue with you hanging out with others. He trusted that you had eyes and knew he was a catch - and that you’d tell him if something wasn’t right, just like he bluntly did to you.

💪 Family hangouts? Easy. Abby had no problem showing up and showing off to your relatives even when he was not invited. Friends? Peers? All of that was just background noise - opportunities, really - for him to flex as your partner while the cute little rats around the two of you squealed his praises. It was a win-win.

💪 His eagerness and chill attitude about you being around others, however, was not a green light for you to pull a: “Me and the others are having a slumber party!” - followed by a kiss on the cheek and a swift sprint out of the apartment he shared with the guys.

💪 Abby respected your clever escape, because he knew if you didn’t plan it like a prison break, he would’ve already had you trapped in his arms, hoisted over his shoulder, and dragged off to his room for his required daily dose of nightly cuddles - unbothered by your flailing attempts to escape.

💪 Abby was a demon who couldn't hide his reactions. So when the door shut behind you, his brain was still buffering - trying to piece together what the hell just happened - before his lips pulled into a dramatic pout. He turned to his brothers lounging in the living room and pointed at the door with his thumb in a wordless: Can you believe that?!

💪 Jinu and Romance exchanged a glance while Mystery just shook his head - less in understanding and more in quiet pity. Baby released his lollipop with a loud pop as he looked him over with drooped eyes. “Pathetic.” Then he put his lollipop back and went right back to scribbling in a notebook, no doubt perfecting Jinu’s lyrics again.

It was safe to say Abby didn’t require rest. He didn’t have a heart like humans, meaning he didn’t need rest to produce whatever the blood was formed from for it to function. For demons, sleep was more of a pastime - something to do when there was nothing else going on. But for Abby? There was always something going on. He wasn’t the structured type - he always went with whatever caught his attention or he thought was a great idea to do. However, ever since you entered his life, Abby had developed one routine. You, in his bed, sleeping next to him every night. No exceptions. Until today. Because today, you decided a bunch of squealing meat sticks were more important than him and your shared cuddles. And for what, exactly? A slumber party? What the fuck even was that? Well, he knew now - thanks to Mystery, who had flipped through one of his human books and casually explained that slumber parties were events where humans “bonded” by staying up late, talking… and summoning demons. Which - hello? You already had a demon. Him. Or were you trying to tell him he was supposed to go to that party and fight off some pathetic, low-ranking worm of a demon to prove himself to you? That theory was quickly shut down by Juni, who waved his arms frantically and made a big “X” with his hands. “No, no,” Juni said, exasperated. “It’s not that kind of slumber party.” Yes, it was about bonding and talking, he explained - but mostly it was eating snacks, playing games, and then cuddling together before falling asleep. Abby did not like that. Were you saying he wasn’t good enough to cuddle? Not warm enough? Not sturdy enough? He could change forms if you needed him to! All you had to do was say the word - he could be anything for you. All he needed to do was tell you that he was a demon who could- Abby let out a frustrated growl into his pillow, which was currently trapped in a suffocating death grip. The others - excluding Romance, who had flashed him an enthusiastic thumbs-up - had shot him sharp, warning glares the moment he suggested it. Their not-so-subtle way of saying: fucking try it.

He huffed, burying his chin into the pillow that still smelled like both of you. His bored eyes drifted toward the glittering honmoon barrier, pulsing in slow, even waves on the bed. He hated how badly he wanted to devour you - to keep you with him at all times. The craving swelled in his chest as he hugged the pillow tighter. A glimmer of your energy flickered inside the honmoon. Abby’s eyes sharpened. Without realising it, he reached out - his clawed finger sinking into the mattress just inches from the glowing thread of your wavelength. That glimmering crimson pulsed over the faint blue. He grinned. Leaning forward, he easily cast your line into his shadow, the dying blue and vibrant red of your link illuminating his face. His sharper teeth gleamed. Abby growled in approval, "My small, precious human..." he murmured, nuzzling his nose into the line, pressing his cheek against it as your wavelength trembled. Seconds later, the device Juni called a “phone” began ringing on his nightstand. Lazily rising, Abby leaned over, using one hand to balance himself while the other reached for the phone. The moment he saw your name on the screen, his grin deepened. Satisfaction pulsed through him as he accepted the call. He purposely lowered his voice, making it gravelly - like he’d just woken up. “What’s up...” “Abby?” Your voice was soft, startled, like you were rudely awakened by something. He hummed deeply in response, shifting on the bed so his feet touched the floor. He could hear you moving around in the background too, still disoriented. “Ah—sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you…” “No, no,” he replied gently. “You called. Did something happen?” He added a slight rasp, pretending to wake himself up for you. You yawned, which made him chuckle as he stood and stretched his shoulders, muscles flexing. “No, nothing really. Just… do you think I—” He cut you off smoothly, already halfway to his closet. “Want me to come get you, sweet thing?” There was a pause on your end as he pulled on a random shirt. As soon as he put the phone back to his ear, your answer poured out, soft and almost drowsy. “…Please.” That one word was all he needed. Abby's grin stretched wider. Your voice sounded fuzzy, affected by the pull of the honmoon - probably a side effect of him tampering with it earlier. Nothing dangerous. Just made it a little easier for him. Especially if your wavelength was already weakened by their influence on you.

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Mystery Saja

🐶 Mystery was the only one among the others who was genuinely curious about the human world - in the way a scientist might be fascinated by their test subjects. A curiosity that wasn’t driven by affection or sentimentality, but by the cold, sharp edge of analysis.

🐶 That same curiosity had granted him rare insight into human behaviour. And comparing it to the era he hailed from? Mystery often wondered if he’d been born on an entirely different planet.

🐶 One of the more puzzling subjects he studied was the human desire to bond. Or more accurately - the innate need to form multiple, meaningful connections with others.

🐶 Okay… but so what? You already had Romance, with whom you could talk endlessly about new trends. Abby, who behaved like an oversized golden retriever, constantly dragging you around the city and showing you places even you - a human who lived around here - didn’t know existed. You had Juni, who could pass as the most "normal" out of all of them and offered you the kind of grounded interaction humans seemed to crave. And Baby, who teased you endlessly until you smacked him with a pillow and he cackled like it was his reward.

🐶 You even had a good rapport with Tiger and Magpie, who you adored taking on nightly walks on which Mystery tended to tag along.

🐶 And he had given you everything a human partner could possibly want. Warm meals, stimulating conversation, the kind of scorching pleasure that left you trembling - your pleas for more eventually turning into breathless gasps begging him to slow down before you could faint.

🐶 So please. Enlighten him again how meeting these random strays was more important than spending time with him, while he read, and you used him like your personal massage therapist for your feet.

“There are not strays, 'Tery,” you sighed, arms crossed, standing your ground before him. He stood perfectly still, blocking the front door of the apartment he shared with the others. “They’re my cousins.” Mystery blinked once - not that you could see it with his fringe in the way - so he tilted his head slightly instead, the silver earrings on his left ear swaying. “What’s the difference?” You let out a short snort, stepping forward to playfully shove his chest. But Mystery remained unmoved. He couldn’t comprehend how being blood-related made a difference. Related or not, they were still doing the same thing. Taking you away from him. Having to realise that was not a joke, you straightened your posture, running a hand through your hair and said, “Mystery—” Oh no. You said his full name. It wasn't even the real one. It was the name Juni had given him. And yet, somewhere along the way, it had rooted itself into his core so deeply that hearing it from your lips had a startling effect.

Your closeness was even worse. The way you stood there, just a breath away. The possibility of closing that distance— It made shivers spread under his skin. The corners of his mouth twitched, ears straining to catch each syllable that left your lips. “I’ll be back by 5:20,” you said, voice calm, trying to sound reasonable. “Maybe earlier. I don’t know how long they’ll keep me.” You really were sounding logical. But not to him. Mystery didn’t move. A thick silence settled between you as you stared him down, and he stared back through the veil of hair over his eyes. He relished the way your gaze roamed over him, your brows furrowed with concern. Without saying a word, Mystery reached up and gently smoothed the crease between them with his thumb. Your shoulders dropped. You exhaled. “Fiiine,” you groaned, giving him a look. “You can come with.” Good human, he thought, stepping aside and offering his arm. You looped yours through it without protest, and together you left for the café where your strays - your cousins - were waiting. At the café, Mystery immediately picked up on the subtle awkwardness between the strangers and himself. The two you’d introduced as your cousins kept glancing between him and the curious patrons nearby, who were clearly trying to place his face. Hmm. Maybe this wasn’t about you wanting to get away from him. Maybe you were trying to avoid drawing attention? Not that he cared. He adjusted the cap you'd jammed onto his head before leaving the apartment and relaxed into the chair. Now he could casually tell the others that he’d simply taken the opportunity to do “fan outreach.” Humans adored that kind of thing, didn’t they? Idols doing normal things. Going out for disgusting oil-water - what was it called again? Coffee. Romance had explained it to him once with a flair. Something about chic trend and university aesthetic... Whatever.

Mystery barely stifled a sigh when your male cousin awkwardly introduced himself, followed by your female cousin. After that, the conversation mostly flowed between you and them. Meanwhile, Mystery was simply trying not to spit out the moldy tar water in front of him and onto your cousin’s face. You said it wouldn’t take long - and thankfully, it didn’t. The two cousins had places to be. Finally outside in the fresh air, Mystery nodded at the male who returned it, a polite bow exchange with the female - and then they hugged you one by one, flashing bright smiles as they said goodbye and left behind their stench on your clothes. Mystery watched with idle disinterest… until you turned toward him with a bright smile and started walking. Without missing a beat, he fell into step beside you, his movements effortless. A faint smile tugged at his lips as he slid his arm around your waist, drawing you closer with practiced ease. “'Tery,” you hissed, startled, your head twisting as if to check whether your cousins were still nearby. “What if they—?” Before you could finish, his hand slid up from your waist to your back and finally settled on the back of your neck. He gently tilted your head forward, voice soft and steady, “No worries. They’re already gone.” You checked him for reassurance, and upon seeing his relaxed smile, you finally eased up, trusting him entirely. As you leaned into his side, Mystery kept his hand on the back of your neck - his fingers slowly kneading the base. Casually, he lifted his other hand to fix his hair, as he hooked few fingers under the strands of his fringe, letting them part as he subtly turned his head to the side, revealing one of his eyes. Sky blue, rimmed with glowing gold - until, in a blink, the gold swallowed the colour whole. His pupil narrowed into a sharp horizontal slit as his gaze locked onto your cousins. They were now frozen in place, lingering by the café entrance. He let them see it. The flash of inhuman sharpness in his smile. The knowing glint. He let it linger just long enough for their wavelengths in the honmoon to spike in alarm before he blinked, his eyes returning to their human form as he turned, letting his fringe fall back into place, Without another glance back, he walked leisurely beside you, pleased with the phantom of their fear still dancing at the edge of his senses like static. Mystery drank it all. And oh, how sweet it was.

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Romance Saja

🌹 Romance would proudly say it aloud: he didn’t understand the word jealousy.

🌹 He’d only first heard of it when he’d tagged along to the human world with the others. Baby had been grumbling about how absurdly jealous their fans could get, muttering it with a dramatic eye-roll. When Romance asked what the word meant, the younger demon had stared at him flatly, gave a shrug, and went back to chewing his gum. He waved him off lazily with, “Ask Fringy, I heard it from those shitty movies he watches. ” That word had piqued Romance’s interest. So, naturally, he went to Mystery as Baby had advised him.

🌹 Mystery didn’t bother answering directly. He simply set aside the book he’d been obsessing over, rising from the couch in one slow, fluid motion. Without a word, he drifted over to his beloved bookshelf - the one Romance secretly admired for its intricate, hand-carved detailing - and retrieved a hefty, leather-bound volume. Returning to him, Mystery opened it on some page, tapped a single word with one painted finger, and said coolly, “Read.”

🌹 Romance blinked at him, raised a brow at the demon's tone, then shrugged and did as told. A moment passed - and then he wheezed out a sudden burst of laughter, clutching his stomach as he tried not to choke on how own spit. Mystery, unfazed, simply straightened. With his usual calmness, he closed the book, returned it to its shelf, and without a single glance back, strolled wordlessly to his room, shutting the door with a soft but final click - leaving Romance in the midst of his hysterical laughter.

🌹 What a ridiculous term! Only self-pitying, bone-dry beings with not an ounce of self-respect could feel "angwy" over something they didn’t have and wished to possess. For what? To feel better?

🌹 Oh, honey~ If you feel miserable without it, you’ll still feel miserable even with it. To Romance, jealousy became just another made-up human excuse - an elegant little lie to mask their fear of revealing their true beauty. Easier to envy others than to honour one’s own shine he guessed.

🌹 He shook his head, the corners of his lips lifting into a pitying smile. Truly pitiful. And that’s exactly what made humans so very entertaining.

It was late into the night, and with nothing better to do - everything already set and ready - Abs had declared a Monopoly match. Now, they were all gathered around the coffee table in the living room. Juni was subtly stealing from the "bank," deep in debt to Abby, who was somehow winning - though even the big guy himself didn’t seem to realise it. Mystery’s section was the most organised; he had to keep pushing up his fringe, revealing glimpses of his sculpted face and paralysing eyes - eyes Romance often claimed were more brilliant than diamonds - as he squinted at the fine print on the cards, just in case. He didn’t seem to notice Baby quietly stealing from him… again. The youngest demon among them always somehow landing in jail. Romance hoped it wasn't some future sign. He, on the other hand, was also losing, apparently. But he didn’t care. He was far more invested in choosing the more aesthetically pleasing structures on the board that he could buy. They were waiting for Mystery to roll the dice when Romance’s ears twitched at the soft sound of his door opening. He looked up just as you stepped out, dressed in an eye-catching outfit - comfortably casual, yet still striking enough to turn heads and leave people wondering if you were even real. Pride swelled in Romance’s chest. The entire ensemble was one he’d picked out for you. With an approving nod, he turned back to the board. Mystery seemed to be deciding whether to use the card in his hand now or later, causing everyone except Romance to glare at him impatiently. Naturally, the demon was unbothered. Romance heard your footsteps approach and, knowing exactly why, he straightened. Tipping his head back, he smiled just as your gentle fingers lifted his chin and your lips brushed the corner of his mouth. Neither of you paid any mind to the eyes now locked on you - nor to Juni’s dramatic gagging, which earned him a shove from Abby - or the loud pop of gum before Baby scoffed, “Disgusting,” and turned back to the board. Romance wasn’t even sure Mystery could see - his fringe was so rich it was practically a curtain. Not that Romance cared; all his attention was on the angel standing above him.

You smiled softly down at him. “I’ll be out with some of my friends and their acquaintances. Should be back around eleven.” Romance hummed, flashing a dazzling smile. “Enjoy the night, darling. Don’t be cheap on yourself,” he said with a lilting, playful tone, then turned back to the game, perfectly content - though he noted your gaze lingered. When it didn’t shift, and neither did you, he eventually looked up. The other guys had stared at him too - besides Mystery who finally rolled the dice. Romance tilted his head at you, curious. “Yes, love? Something the matter? Do you want to borrow one of my pieces of jewellery, is that it?” he asked earnestly, clearly confused by your startled expression. There was a pause - just the two of you in your own pocket of silence - before you shook your head quickly and gave a hesitant smile. “N-No! No need. Thank you for the offer though,” you said, bowing gratefully before flashing him a radiant grin. “Enjoy your night!” Romance returned it with one of his own, lifting his hand to wave as he watched you leave. “You shall too, my lovely darling!”

<><><>

Baby Saja

🍼 Baby never understood the whole concept of jealousy. He always squinted suspiciously whenever he saw one of those people inside the magic box Juni told them humans called the “TV.” A box Mystery had grown as attached to as he was to his stupid books.

🍼 With nothing else to do today, Baby had two equally terrible options: Be dragged to some human food chain by Romance and Abby like Juni had - relegated to “human translator” duty for demons - or sit in his room while Mystery sat through one of him movie marathons on that box, volume turned low... which, for Baby’s hearing, may as well have been blaring at full blast.

🍼 He had zero intention of venturing out alone. No need to provoke the huntresses any more than they already had. They knew what he and the others were, and Baby didn’t feel like fighting - not with his brain still aching from today’s string of stupid shows designed to entertain the masses like they were circus animals. Baby swore Gwi-Ma was punishing him twice for his human sins.

🍼 So, he ended up sitting on the floor with his back to the couch, arms loosely draped over his knees, while Mystery’s attention remained glued to the humans on-screen. The female protagonist had just spotted the male lead talking - laughing, even - with another woman after getting a message from the male that morning that he would be busy. The girl’s face twisted. She marched into the café, called him a player, and dumped his own drink over his head.

🍼 Baby narrowed his eyes, unimpressed, and bit into the lollipop in his mouth. “What the shit...” he muttered, gesturing vaguely at the screen. “Why not just talk to the guy instead of pulling a tantrum like a brat?”

🍼 He leaned back with a grimace. Even as a demon, he was rooting for the male lead to ditch her. “Man... just give up and take the other chick,” he muttered, rotating the lollipop stick slowly between his fingers. “Humans are fascinating...” Mystery said, voice flat and unreadable. Baby snorted, smirking. “Sure they are. Can’t even think rationally.”

🍼 The hair on the back of his neck suddenly stood up - his instincts prickling. He could feel Mystery’s gaze drilling into him. Unable to ignore it, Baby snapped his head around and glared up at his senior. “What?”. Mystery tilted his head slightly. “We were once humans, too.” Baby scoffed, turning back to the screen. “Yeah, and? Look where our rationality got us,” he muttered, biting down sarcastically on the word.

🍼 With nothing else to add, the two demons lapsed into companionable silence, watching as the male protagonist ran after the girl with the temper tantrum. Baby’s canines lengthened unconsciously, piercing through the candy in his mouth. Pathetic, he thought.

Baby didn’t even know how the fuck he got here. It started with Abby hyping up some “amazing BBQ chain” on the outskirts of the city - and ended with all five of them sitting in one of the private cars, courtesy of the industry that scouted them after that godawful “Soda Pop” song. Baby still shuddered at the memory. That song was a fucking curse. If any lesser demon so much as whispered it near him- He huffed and slouched deeper into his seat, pulling out the "phone". Your chat log stared back at him: a single cat sticker, a cheery “Good morning!” and a short I’ll be busy today. That same moment, Baby had immediately messaged back asking, Busy with what?, reacting to the sticker with a sun emoji. You hadn’t read it yet. “Tch.” Whatever. Baby brushed it off like he brushed off the growing void in his chest - and the saliva pooling in his mouth. The urge to devour your soul was stronger than usual. He figured even his demon body was getting impatient to blend with you already. Soon, he thought, lips quirking into a smile. That was enough to earn a suspicious glance from Abby, who immediately commented that he looked “creepy.” So Baby chucked his phone at his face. It nearly escalated into a full-blown brawl, if not for Mystery and Juni unleashing just enough demonic aura to force the two of them to sit back down. Baby hated that he couldn’t fight back properly without risking his head getting sliced off. His body would regenerate - eventually -but sitting around bodyless for hours was a major buzzkill. Now, they were trailing behind Mystery, who’d been told to “smell out” the BBQ spot since none of them knew how to use phones beyond the bare minimum. And even that had taken months of trial and error. Romance was banned from dialling the emergency number after he’d used it for every minor inconvenience, so they wouldn't get locked up even before the mission could start. So as they followed the demon bloodhound through the streets, Baby came to a sudden stop. His droopy eyes, widened. He felt it - a faint tremble in the air. Your wavelength. His skin buzzed. Instinctively, his hand reached out to grasp it, only to recoil with a snarl as the huntresses' protection burned his palm.

Fucking nuisance. The fact that you were still untouched by demonic influence - still holding strong even after getting closer to him - set Baby’s teeth on edge. It made him boil. He wanted nothing more than to go head-to-head with those three bitches and rip apart whatever invisible leash was tied around you. All so he could feel your line clinging to him without restraint. While the others continued walking, Baby peeled away from the group, scanning his surroundings. The honeymoon wave meant you were either nearby or you lived on this specific street. And no - he was pretty sure you didn’t live out here. He followed the trace across the road, dodging pedestrians, until he came to a halt. There you were. Sitting inside a café. Laughing. With some rando. You were perched on a bar stool beside them, hands cradling a cup as you spoke, giggled, playfully nudged the other - and received a shove back followed by more laughter. Baby’s lip curled, a low growl escaping him. His eyes narrowed. Is this what that female protagonist felt? Fuck no. He didn’t have pathetic self-pitying thoughts. He was untouchable. He didn’t need validation. He knew he was great. No, what Baby felt wasn’t that flimsy human brand of jealousy. This was something far more primal. An urge. To walk straight through the café doors, wedge himself between you and that leech, threaten them without saying a word, and drag you out of there. Just because your time - your presence - belonged to him. Relaxing into the sensation, Baby smirked to himself. Adjusting the bucket hat shielding some of his features from rabid fans, he casually strolled toward the café. The cashier greeted him. He ignored it. Each step he took was precise. Measured. Confident in a predatory grace wrapped in an attractive human shell. His boots clacked sharply against the wood flooring, but you didn’t hear him. The ambient café noise covered his approach, and your back was turned - attention fully on the leech across from you. The leech, however, did see him. And instead of meeting ordinary human eyes like they had to expect, they met glowing gold, shadowed under the brim of his hat. Pupils slitted in sharp attention. Baby tilted his head, lips peeling into a smile far too wide, sharp canines flashing. The leech flinched hard, nearly falling off the stool. That finally got your attention. You whipped around with an adorable little glare, ready to scold whoever scared your friend- Only to find yourself face to face with Baby. Silver-blue eyes blinked innocently. Calm expression. Head tilted owlishly as if he were the one surprised to see you.

[scarletfasinera]

I am so sorry to anyone who has sent me messages about campaigns that I just can't see because of tumblr's shadowbanning & general weirdness. My inbox says I have 45 messages in it, but I only see maybe 10, and only half of those are about campaigns.

[c0ffeejelly1]

Manhandling him

Multiple character headcannon

Authors note: UGH pls this whole things was for jokes bc I can’t really be that ask to make something I feel is good. Teehee. Also I can mischaracterise all I want okay let a girl dream pls. (POST-TIMESKIP!!)

Warning: man it’s like the smallest hint of the nasty freaky stuff

“Babe, you got something on your face. Let me just…” You reach out to your boyfriend, making him look your way by gripping his chin firmly while you flick away a bit of ‘glitter’ from his cheek. “There you go.”

Strike one.

That was just the beginning of your strange behavior today.

“Hey baby, c’mere I wanna kiss…” you call him over from the other side of the kitchen counter, only to yank on his collar and pull him in for one hell of a snog. “Seriously, you have no business looking this good today.”

Strike two.

Just what was up with you today?

You just got home from work, and as he’s about to sit up to see you, you suddenly push him back down onto the couch, mumbling something about how much you “missed him”.

Strike three.

You run your fingers through his hair, pulling him closer to your lips, but then you pause to check out his face.

Perhaps you took this prank too far…

The type to be oddly into it

“…are you hard?”

This snaps your boyfriend out of his thoughts.

He’d never ever ever thought he could find himself in a situation like this. this is the kind of stuff you see in movies, right? I mean, come on!

Just picture how mortifying it is to be turned on from someone mistreating you! It’s pathetic!

He can’t just blurt out, ‘oh hell yeah I’m hard’ in response to that question—why would anyone even think to ask that? What can a guy do in a moment like this except deny it?

“What? N-no!…” He glances away, feeling the weight of your intense gaze. “…maybe?”

When you raise an eyebrow at him, his mask crumbles entirely. There’s no use in pretending.

You’ve already seen right through him, leaving him no option but to retreat into a shadowy corner and disappear.

“Yeah.” He responds, his voice tinged with disappointment. “I…I am.”

Maybe it’s because of the way you handled him like he was nothing that made him so bothered.

Maybe it was the way you looked so desperate to have him that did it for him.

Either way, he’s discovered something about himself he never knew he ever had.

And make no mistake, you were going to exploit this discovery to the fullest.

“Have I told you how much I love you babe?” You pull back from his face after practically devouring it as he stands there, grinning like a lovesick fool, dishes still in hand.

“I think you should tell me more.”

“Wrap up with those dishes, and I’ll give you a demonstration instead.”

Be ready for one hell of a night cowgirl. Wink wink

Charcters: serizawa, armin, EREN, REINER, ukai, ATSUMU, Osamu, Gojo, CHOSO, leviathan, SATAN, DIAVOLO, IIDA, denki, tamaki, CHILDE, Cyno, sanji, LAW

The type to think you’ve finally gone crazy

you call out to him, noticing he seems lost in his phone. Yet, oddly enough, he flinches slightly every time you speak.

This reaction occurs whenever you draw near him, as if your voice startles him, even when you're just a breath away. It’s not that he dislikes your voice; rather, it feels like he’s a bit intimidated by you now.

What happened to the confident guy who was with you just two days ago? Why does he seem to be tiptoeing around you like a child with a fragile toy?

“Y/N…is everything alright?” He approaches you cautiously, maintaining a bit of distance, trying to balance his interest with a hint of hesitation. “You’ve been…um, I just wanted to check—are you upset with me?”

“Upset with you?” You set your phone aside, raising an eyebrow at him. “Why would I be upset? Did you do something wrong?”

That’s the very question he’s grappling with. Your passionate touches and fervent kisses have left him bewildered about your feelings.

Are you so enamored that you can’t help yourself, or are you retaliating for something he might have done? Suddenly, a thought strikes him.

“…If this is about how intense things got last night, I’m sorry, but you did ask for it when I warned you I wouldn’t hold back—” His words are cut short as your hand swiftly covers his mouth.

“No! No that’s—just no. It was a prank babe, a trend I saw online” you say, removing your hand and placing both on his shoulders. “Last night has nothing to do with today or any other day.”

“Not even you complaining about being sore?”

“Not even me complaining about…wait I never did that!”

“Yeah buts it’s easy to tell.”

Charcters: REIGEN, giyuu, giyomei, JEAN, KAGEYAMA, hinata, kuroo, OIKAWA, AKAASHI, geto, NANAMI, Solomon, IZUKU, Diluc, LAIOS, zayne, LAW (Sowy I can see him as both)

The type to also manhandle you

Did you honestly believe you could manhandle him without facing the same treatment in return? Come on this is your boyfriend we’re talking about, In fact, I think he’s thrilled that you can boss him around so effortlessly.

So thrilled that he makes it into a competition

“Okay let’s see who tackles the first person on the bed.” His eyes shine with enthusiasm as he confidently places his hands on his hips. “If I win I get to have my way with you, and if you win, you get to have me have my way with you. Deal?”

You pause for a moment to process his words “…uh, how is that fair?”

“What do you mean?” he replies, brushing off your concern with a grin.

“I think it’s perfectly fair. No matter the outcome, you get a nice little reward, right?” His voice dances with mischief as he nudges you playfully with his elbow, clearly trying to elicit a reaction.

You roll your eyes at him, feigning annoyance, before relenting, “I guess it’s not so bad..”

“Exactly! Now, I’m going to count down. Ready? 3…2…” Before you can fully grasp what’s happening, he lunges at you, tackling you onto the bed before he even reaches 1.

“H-hey! That’s cheating, you can’t do that!” But your protests are ignored, your boyfriend already having you wrapped in his warm embrace, his face buried against your neck.

“This is what you get for how you’ve been treating me today.”

“What are you talking about?” You pause for a moment, though you suspect he’s finally caught on to your little scheme. “You mean me kissing you like any normal woman would with the love of her life?”

“No. Just you touching me all weirdly…”

“Don’t say it like that you make me sound like a perv.”

“Maybe cause you are.”

“I’m not.”

“You are.”

“…”

“…”

“I’m not.”

Charcters: RENGOKU, tengen, connie, NISHINOYA, hinata (yes again), kuroo (YESSS AGAIN), BOKUTO, TENDOU, MAMMON, DENKI (twice and what), kirishima, ITTO, rafayel, LUFFY

The type…yeah you ain’t doing that

Screw everything I just said in the intro. If you genuinely think you can manhandle this man and succeed. You’re crazy.

“Hey, come here, you’ve got something—” The moment your hand nears his face, he seizes your wrist, staring at you as if you’ve just committed a serious offense.

“What are you doing?”

“Uh…I’m trying to like get the little speck of glitter off your face.”

“We don’t own glitter?”

“Dust then?” He shoots you a skeptical glance.

“…sure.”

So that was an absolute fail…

But you’re not ready to throw in the towel just yet. No way! You just need to bide your time until nightfall, when he’s all soft and cuddly. That’s when you’ll make your move.

As the evening unfolds and you’re prepping for bed in the bathroom, you catch sight of him reaching for something in the cupboard above you. This is your moment. The time to pull him in close and—

SMACK

“The hell? What was that for?” He rubs his forehead, clearly taken aback by your sudden move.

Who knew kissing your boyfriend could be this complicated? Somehow, you ended up colliding headfirst into him, and now he’s clearly fed up with you.

“That wasn’t how it was supposed to go…” you say with a shy smile, nervously scratching the back of your head. “You alright?”

You gently move his hand away from his forehead to check for any damage, and to your surprise, he lets you.

Wait a minute… you actually moved his hand, and he’s okay with it? Is this manhandling? I think it’s manhandling. It’s manhandling.

“…I did it.”

“Did what?”

“I touched you!”

“??”

Pls stop confusing this man he’s already tired enough.

Charcters: dimple, akashi, MIDORIMA, aomine, sanemi, KAGEYAMA (yes again), TSUKISHIMA, iwaizumi, TOJI, LUCIFER, bakugou, AIZAWA, sylus, ZORO

[starsforxavi]

thin walls ⁘ caleb

·······•✦ description: When Caleb decides to surprise you by visiting you for the weekend, he doesn't expect to hear your coworker flirting with you so shamelessly… he's going to have to make sure he knows you're taken.

·······•✦ pairing: caleb x afab!reade ·······•✦ word count: 3.5k ·······•✦ genre: smut, porn with plot, fluff ·······•✦ general tags: Established Relationship, Fluff, Smut, Fluff and Smut, Jealousy, Cunnilingus, Vaginal Sex, Penis In Vagina Sex, Noise Kink, Improper Use of Evol, Caleb is jealous, Strength Kink, Creampie, Praise Kink, Cowgirl Position, Grinding, Rough Sex, pet names - honey & baby, Let him hear you, Squirting and Vaginal Ejaculation, POV Second Person, No Use of Y/N

·······•✦ posted on: ao3

“I still can’t believe you took on that Wanderer by yourself.” Xavier’s voice carries through the thin walls of your apartment, and Caleb’s ears immediately perk up when he hears your response. 

“Well, if someone weren’t so preoccupied, then I wouldn’t have had to deal with it myself.” Your quip falls on deaf ears because Xavier is too focused on the curve of your lips as you tease him for being distracted by the fireworks in the sky. It seemed that even in the midst of a No-Hunt Zone, the explosions could still be seen. 

Xavier hums, his hands tight at his sides. He wants to do something. Lean against the wall, lean a little closer to you, perhaps even reach a hand out to brush along your arm. However, there’s a small part of him that hesitates for whatever reason. 

Meanwhile, Caleb is lounging back on your couch, his uniform discarded on your bedroom floor and replaced with a pair of grey sweatpants and a tank top that showcases his newly built chest and slightly more muscular arms. He had meant to show up at your apartment as a bit of a surprise after not being able to visit you the past two weekends, but he wasn’t expecting to hear this. 

Heat boils in his blood. How dare this man speak to you this way? Did he not know that you were taken? Caleb’s eyes are honed in on the door, waiting for the moment you enter and notice him sitting there. 

“You seemed pretty capable out there.” Xavier shrugs, his head tilted to the side as you smooth out the vest of your Hunter’s outfit. “I knew you could handle it. You’re strong.” 

His voice drops to a gentle mumble. A quick hand ruffles the hair at the back of his head, and he rubs at his neck as if he had a tight muscle. Caleb could make it tight… 

“Thanks…” You pause, the conversation naturally coming to an end. Besides, you were anticipating calling Caleb when you got home, so you could video call while you ate dinner. “Well, good night. I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

A warm pair of lips against your cheek startles you into a gasp, and Caleb jumps up from the couch, ready to swing if need be. But just as you type in the code to your apartment, you’re followed by a soft whisper. 

“Good night.” Xavier rushes out, his cheeks mirroring yours in their pink flush. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

The moment you open your door, you freeze. 

“Hey, pips.” Caleb smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “How was work?” 

The stars outside tell of your long day, but seeing Caleb’s face in the flesh like this… Even if his expression isn’t particularly pleased… It’s exciting. 

“Caleb!” You kick off your boots and shrug off your jacket, making your way over to him until you’re staring up into his purple eyes. He flickers his gaze between both of your irises, the wide-eyed expression and parted lips making it impossible for him to remain indifferent when you look so pretty. 

“Did he kiss you?” His voice is flat and not ready to play any tricks. 

“No… Well-”

“What?” 

Your hand on his chest stops him from walking out the door and confronting the other Hunter. Profession be damned, he would take care of your coworker with his Evol if he had to. 

“Caleb.” The simple utterance of his name has him pausing, his cheeks burning red as his hands find their way to the curves of your hips. “He just pecked my cheek.” 

“Honey.” An exchange of names lingers, and your hands find their way to his broad shoulders. His chest got bigger, and your eyes wander down to his biceps… He’s so strong, and his voice sends a shiver down your spine. 

His hands, huge in size and rough in texture, tighten on your waist, and he would never actually hurt you, but his strength is a constant reminder that he doesn’t need his Evol to lift you. There’s a moment where he takes a breath, a vein in his forehead bulging, but instead of acting on the impulsive thoughts that threaten to overwhelm him… 

He pauses. 

“I came all the way here to surprise you.” He starts, his hair mussed from lounging on the couch. It dips right above his eyes, brushing along his eyebrows. “Because the last few weeks without you have been hell.” The last word comes as a whisper, his nose poking against yours. “And I hear your coworker speaking to you like that.” 

Each sentence that leaves his lips is quieter than the last, his tone dipping down into husky and intense. Meanwhile, his eyes follow your features, your eyes, your lips, the curve of your nose. He’s not angry at you… But the situation is surely not ideal. 

“I… I don’t know why he did that. I’ll make sure he knows I’m taken.” You mumble, your thumb tracing the neckline of his tank top. “But I’m happy to see you.” 

His expression lightens slightly, and a smile finally makes its way to his eyes. Because he is happy to see you, but the sudden interruption to his expected plans is jarring, to say the least.

“I’m happy to see you, too, honey.” His breath fans out across your face, and he trails one hand up your side to the collar of your uniform. “You don’t know how much I missed you.” 

The subtle grip of his thumb and forefinger on your chin forces you to look at him, and fuck he can’t control himself when you bat your eyelashes and stare with wide eyes. 

“I missed you- mmph!” 

His lips find yours, interrupting your sentence that is dripping in emotion. They slot perfectly together, and his large palm encloses the back of your neck. With you being held still, Caleb’s hand on your hip moves to your collar, beginning to pop the buttons of your uniform one by one. 

Caleb’s tongue parts your lips, too preoccupied by your taste and the feeling of you in front of him to focus on anything else. As the last button is undone, he pushes it off your shoulders, exposing the soft curves of your body that are still covered by an undershirt. 

After shedding you of your top layer, his hand expertly unbuckles your belt, throwing it to the side to fall on top of your shirt. His feral lips devour every inch of your mouth, not wanting to be separated for a minute, and sharp inhales of breath reach your ears, echoing your own desperate way to keep feeling the warmth of his mouth on yours. 

“Honey…” He sighs, slipping his hand under your shirt to grip your bare skin. After being unable to feel the smooth expanse of your body beneath his hand for the last few weeks, his mood soured by him… “You’re mine… Only mine.” The words come out naturally.

It’s more pleading and desperate than it is overpowering. He’s possessive, yes, but he’s also well aware that you can make your own decisions. You’re only his if you want to be his, whereas he will always be yours. 

“Yours.” You assure him, your eyes still closed as you relish in the gentle touch that trails along the side of your torso. “I’ll- I’ll make sure he knows I’m taken.” You repeat, wanting to assure Caleb. A part of you is sure that you at least dropped Caleb’s name, or surely Xavier has seen your lockscreen which is a picture of Caleb’s goofy grin poking out from behind a bouquet of your favorite flowers… But with the Fleet’s controlling stature and intimidating hold they had over Caleb and their colonels, you were apprehensive in explicitly stating your relationship at times.

“I can make sure he knows tonight.” His voice has a hint of teasing in it, but you know he’s serious when his large hands dip under your thighs to hoist them around his waist. The bulge of his obvious arousal brushes against the seat of your jeans, and although you can’t feel much through the thick denim, the hitch in Caleb’s breath tells you all you need to know. 

Before you can ask what exactly he means by that, he’s taking measured steps down your hallway and toward your bedroom. He knows your apartment like the back of his hand, and as one hand cradles the curve of your ass and the other traces the curve of your spine, he follows the exact path he always takes until his knees hit the plush side of your bed. 

“Baby…” Caleb rasps, pulling away for just a moment so he can shed his pants and top. 

“Eager, are we?” You try to tease him, but the words are caught in your throat when you catch a glimpse of the small trail of hair between his navel and the throbbing length of his cock that is already glistening with arousal. 

Tendrils of his Evol wrap around your ankles, bringing your ass to the edge of the bed where he kneels obediently without needing to be asked. He’s nothing if not a giver, and as soon as he saw the look on your face when you walked in the door, he knew he would have to give and give and give until you could only remember his name. 

“For you, baby? Always eager.” He makes quick work of your pants, unbuttoning them and teasingly pulling them down your legs along with your panties. They aren’t anything special, just a pair of cotton underwear, since you truly didn’t expect Caleb to show up. A mumbled, ‘cute’ slips from his tongue, but he doesn’t pay it much mind because what he really wants to see is hidden beneath. 

“Fuck…” He pushes up your shirt to just below the cups of your bra, his lips finding the flesh right above your navel and pressing a kiss there. “You wanna know what I’m also eager for?”

There isn’t a second for you to even contemplate your answer, what with his palms pushing your thighs until you’re completely spread and at his mercy. Your slick folds glisten with arousal at the haze in his eyes, a determination setting in with the flick of his tongue along the seam of his lips. “‘M eager…” Taking a deep breath, he hovers over the hood of your clit, watching with a deep fascination and undivided attention as it subtly throbs under his gaze. “To make sure that little neighbor of yours hears- ha- just how good I’m making you feel.” 

A sharp exhale rattles in your chest, and it’s followed by a high-pitched whine. Caleb doesn’t have any experience besides what he’s explored with you, but god does he know you like the back of his hand. The tip of his tongue parts your folds, tasting your essence and letting out a low moan as everything about you overwhelms him. 

It overwhelms him in the best way. 

“Is the window open?” His husky voice drops to the one he uses as a colonel, and your head automatically nods as if you were a subordinate answering a command. 

“Good.” 

It’s the last word he says before diving back down. His hands splay across your abdomen, and the broadness of his shoulders keeps your thighs open. He could use his Evol just as he did multiple times before, but there’s something about holding you with pure strength…

With your thighs spread impossibly open, Caleb is able to see the way your hole flutters. The flat of his tongue covers you, moving all the way from your entrance to your throbbing clit, to which he wraps his lips around and sucks. 

“Fuck- Ca-leb!” Your voice carries across the room, your fingers threading through his brunette locks as white hot pleasure pools in your lower abdomen. Your neck nearly snaps as your head falls back against the bed. “Fu-fuck, please.” 

He hums, flicking his tongue against your clit as the most lewd sucking noise comes from the way he shamelessly shakes his head and spreads your slick across his cheeks and chin. 

Yes, god, yes.  Caleb’s mind races, cock throbbing against his thigh as he keeps his eyes locked on you. He wants the whole world to know how good he’s making you feel, but more than that… The idea of your upstairs neighbor hearing, perhaps getting aroused by your beautiful noises. 

But he’s not here. He will never be here. It’s Caleb who is drawing each and every moan from your lips, and it’s Caleb who will sink into your tight heat. And it’s Caleb who will fill you to the brim, watching it drip from your hole. 

“Good- ah- girl,” Caleb breathes, his nose grinding against your clit with each curl of his tongue inside your twitching hole. “Are you ready for me?” 

“Yes-” 

“Louder.” He stands, using his strength to lift and maneuver you into his lap. “I want him to hear you.” 

Him. 

The image of Xavier staring at his window, hearing your moans of pleasure as Caleb fucks you into oblivion. Goosebumps drift across your body, the thickness of his cock nestling right between your folds. A vein bumps your clit, pulling air from your lungs. 

“Yes!” You whimper, cheeks flushed and eyes wide with desire, as Caleb soothes his hands along your sides. 

“There you go.” The slow roll of his vowels makes your entire body thrum, hands gripping at his shoulders while he guides your hips to grind on his cock. 

The tease of not actually slipping inside even though you really want to… It’s excruciating, and you lean forward with your lips so devastatingly close to Caleb’s. You need him, and the thought of Xavier is long gone from your mind. 

“Please…” You whimper, frantically wiggling your hips and shifting forward until the head of his cock almost catches your entrance. “Need you, Caleb.” 

“Hmmm,” The tilt of his head is so annoyingly hot, your arousal coating his cheeks and chin still from how feral he seemed between your thighs. He chews on his bottom lip. “What do you need exactly, honey?” 

Your chest rumbles, and you close your eyes to let your words actually come out. “You. Your cock. Everything.” It’s everything. You want everything. You need everything. All Caleb needs is to give it to you. 

His hand kneads your hip, pulling you up just enough to press the tip of his cock against your entrance. “If you need it, take it.” Caleb shrugs, looking up at you as you rub along his shoulders. “But I’ll tell you one thing, honey.” 

Leaning forward, he pecks your lips. It’s gentle and soft. 

“I’m gonna fuck you… Hard.” It’s just a whisper, spoken against your parted lips, but you hear every single slur of syllables that is dripping in desire and edged in pure love. “He’s gonna hear how good I’m fucking you… And he’s gonna know that he will never have you like I will.” 

As he speaks, he slowly pushes you down onto his length, and each inch has him swallowing a whimper from your lips. It’s been weeks since you’ve had him like this, and sitting in his lap, flush against his pelvis and so so full… 

“Caleb…” You whine, leaning into his palm that cradles your cheek. “Pl-ease!” 

Planting his feet on your bed, he bucks up into you, the curve of his cock pressing against your g-spot and adding to the lava that laps at your lower abdomen. He’s so deep, reaching spots inside you that even his fingers can’t. 

“Co-me on, honey.” His jaw tightens, wrapping an arm around you and pushing against your upper back until your body is flush against his. Your pebbled nipples poke through your shirt, sending a shiver down Caleb’s spine. “You’re so wet for me…” His other hand kneads your ass, guiding you in a slow ride on his cock that makes you feel every inch of his throbbing length. 

“Ca-leb- fuck.” The moan heightens into more of a scream when Caleb keeps you completely still, making you sit there on your knees while his hips create a brutal pace. His balls slap against your ass, creating a cacophony of noises that he hopes will be heard from the floor above. 

“Say it- fuck-  again, honey.” A furrow in his eyebrows creases at his forehead, and while he wants so badly to watch your expressions, he’s on a mission. 

The sharp sting of his teeth on your neck makes you yelp, your mouth falling open, and your nails dig into his shoulders. There will surely be indents there in the morning, but fuck does Caleb think it’s the hottest thing when he can see the manifestations of your ownership over him. 

He is yours. Irrevocably and completely yours. 

“Oh my- g-od,” the sensation of his teeth nipping at your skin, paired with the soothing warmth of his tongue and the incessant stretch of his cock that only pulls out halfway before burying deep inside you is all too much. Your back arches, head falling to the side to allow Caleb more access to mark you how he pleases. 

“So good.” He whispers more to himself than to you. The noises you make are so satisfying that he finds himself holding back his own moans. How dare he corrupt your beautiful noises? “So perfect.” His teeth dig into your neck, making small marks of his canines that send a rush of slight pain that mixes with the pleasure, showing everyone who dares to look that you’re taken. The voice in your throat catches with each bump of your clit on his pelvis, the incessant whimpers and moans of his name becoming music to his ears. 

“Caleb. Caleb. Caleb. Ca-leb! Caleb!” His name is a mantra, and very quickly do you find that your nerves are fraying, only feeling the familiar pulsing of his cock that fits so perfectly inside you. Like he was meant for you. 

His hips don’t slow down, keeping the pace and causing your ass to bounce each time he fucks up into you. The hand on your ass pushes you back down, each time you come up, and your muscles burn with exertion and the heat that threatens to burn you alive. 

“Love you so much.” He whispers against your lips, unable to stop the need to kiss you. It’s sloppy and more of an exchange of noises than anything, but he needs more than anything to be close to you. “So, so much.” 

“Love you too.” You mirror him, your pussy clenching down on him as the pleasure mounts into something uncontrollable. Although you want to say more, it’s cut off with a loud moan that borders on a scream of his name. 

“Good girl…” He soothes you, watching as your eyes go half-lidded and your mouth falls open. Through the haze, your vision blurs, and your orgasm crashes down on you. It’s intense and overwhelming, but the shining purple of Caleb’s eyes that meet yours is the one grounding thing in the whirlwind around you. 

It’s so overwhelming that you can’t even feel the twitching of Caleb’s cock as he empties himself inside you. With so long since his last release - his hand isn’t enough anymore - you’re filled to the brim. It leaks out from around his length, ruining the sheets. 

His breath comes in labored gasps as he keeps pounding you through his own release. It’s a sense of overstimulation that forces continuous moans that rise in volume. You don’t care anymore about the neighbors hearing, or even Xavier knowing exactly what is happening to you and who is making you shake and jerk in Caleb’s grasp. 

“My honey…” He smooths down your hair, his hips pausing and hand guiding your hips in a grind that slows until you’re completely still on top of him. 

A shit eating grin stretches his lips as you push up and stare down at him. His eyes follow your features, cupping your cheek and holding you so tenderly despite fucking you so hard that you can only remember your name when he whispers it against your lips. 

“You did so well for me, honey.” His thumb traces your cheekbone, chuckling when you still stare with a dazed expression. “Are you okay?” 

“Mhm.” You hum, nodding slowly. “Good. I’m good.” 

“Good.” He smiles, pecking your lips and holding you close as his other hand slips under your shirt to rub your bare back, catching the clasp of your bra. “You’re so beautiful.” 

A satisfied hum leaves you, and your eyes close as you listen to the steady beat of his heart. It reminds you that he’s here, he’s yours, and you’re his. 

Just as you’re about to drift to sleep, his deep voice sits close to your ear. 

“You think he heard you?” 

A light smack to his bicep makes him chuckle, but you can only reply with a mumble. “I think the whole city heard me, you dork.” 

© starsforxavi

[amkyor]

Hey! I'm a big fan, annnd I have a bakugou x y/n idea... where bakugou hasn't been paying attention to y/n his girlfriend lately and it's been lonely.... so y/n is watching a romance anime with Mina and y/n says... "I wish I had that"....and then Mina ask if she loves bakugou and she says ...."hes okay"..... but the whole time bakugou and his friend kirishima were listening....and bakugou his mind is like "I'm a bad boyfriend? Does she love me? Im...okay?"

K. BAKUGO SHORT STORY

Synopsis: Bakugo has been distant toward his girlfriend (you), and she realizes how much it is actually affecting her while watching a romance movie that includes the love that she wishes she had.

Short note: Chapter 23 of my Bakugo x Reader Fanfiction is out now! If you like my stories on here, I'm sure you'll like my fanfiction, so go check it out! The link is at the end of this post!!

Distance Between Us:

It all started slowly, too slow for you to realize.

The day you started to notice it was when it was late in the evening, and you were sitting on the couch, waiting for Bakugo to come home.

He had promised to spend the evening with you after work, but as the hours ticked by, your excitement turned into frustration. Finally, you heard the front door open.

Bakugo walked in, still in his hero uniform, his face tired and serious. "Sorry, I got held up at work. Some idiot caused a mess in the city," he muttered, tossing his gloves onto the table.

You smiled, trying to be understanding. "It’s okay. I’m just glad you’re home now. Want me to heat up the dinner I made for us?"

"Not hungry," he replied shortly, already pulling out his phone. "I need to check the patrol schedule for tomorrow. There’s a lot going on."

You sighed, your shoulders dropping. "Katsuki, can’t it wait? You’ve been working all day. We barely get time together."

But he didn’t seem to hear you, his eyes glued to the screen. "Huh? Yeah, sure, whatever you say."

The evening dragged on, and though he was physically present, his mind remained consumed by hero work.

You ended up eating dinner alone while he sat at the kitchen table, typing away on his laptop.

---

Another time was when he had made plans out of nowhere to hang out with his friends and ditch out on the two of you had planned.

It was a rare weekend when Bakugo didn’t have patrol or missions lined up.

You had planned a quiet day together—something simple, just the two of you.

But as you were setting up breakfast, his phone buzzed on the counter.

Bakugo glanced at the screen and smirked. "It’s Kirishima. He wants to hit the gym and grab lunch afterward. I’ll be back later."

Your stomach sank. "I thought today was for us? We haven’t had a day off together in weeks, Katsuki."

He blinked as if realizing for the first time that you might have feelings about this. "We can hang out later. It’s not like I’m gone all day. Plus, I haven’t seen the guys in a while."

You bit your lip, trying to keep your disappointment in check. "But we haven’t seen each other in a while either."

He paused for a second, then ruffled your hair in a halfhearted gesture. "Come on, it’s not a big deal. I’ll see you tonight." Before you could argue further, he was already grabbing his gym bag and heading out the door.

---

Another day came, and he did the same.

Bakugo’s dedication to his work often left him exhausted, and his sleep schedule was all over the place.

One night, you stayed up late, waiting for him to come to bed.

You had something important to talk about, but he was still in the living room, sprawled out on the couch, catching up on sleep.

"Katsuki," you called softly, standing in the doorway.

He grunted, barely lifting his head. "What is it?"

"I wanted to talk to you about something. It’s been on my mind for a while."

He groaned, sitting up slightly. "Can it wait? I just got back from a double shift, and I’m dead tired."

"But it’s important," you insisted, stepping closer.

He sighed, rubbing his eyes. "Y/n, I can’t deal with anything serious right now. Let’s talk tomorrow, okay?"

The next day came and went, and so did the conversation. You couldn’t help but wonder if you’d ever get the timing right.

---

Then, of course, came another.

One evening, Bakugo was in the backyard, practicing his explosions while you watched from the patio.

You had been waiting for him to finish so you could spend some quality time together, but he was completely absorbed in his training.

"Hey, Katsuki," you called out, waving at him. "How much longer are you going to be out here?"

"Not now, babe," he shouted back, his voice carrying over the sound of crackling explosions. "I’m almost done!"

Almost turned into an hour, and by the time he came inside, you were curled up on the couch, half-asleep.

He walked past you, grabbing a water bottle from the kitchen.

"Sorry, I lost track of time," he said, but there was no apology in his tone.

You gave him a small smile, too tired to argue. "It’s okay," you mumbled, though deep down, you wondered if he even realized how much you had been waiting for him.

---

In each of these scenarios, Bakugo’s priorities—whether work, friends, or personal routines—seemed to overshadow his time with you. While his intentions might not be malicious, his actions often left you feeling overlooked and craving the attention he gave to everything else in his life.

───────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────────────

The evening was calm, the golden light of the setting sun filtering through the kitchen window, casting a warm glow across the counters.

You stood at the stove, carefully stirring the simmering pot of stew. The gentle aroma of sautéed vegetables, rich broth, and spices filled the air, blending seamlessly with the soft hum of the overhead fan.

Tonight, you had decided to prepare something special—something hearty and comforting, like the conversation you hoped to have with Bakugo.

It had been a while since the two of you had truly spent time together.

His hero work had consumed most of his days, leaving you with fleeting moments of his presence.

You understood, of course, the weight of his responsibilities, but that didn’t make the distance any easier.

So, as a gesture of love and an attempt to reconnect, you had spent the better part of the evening preparing this meal.

The kitchen was cozy, lit by the soft glow of under-cabinet lights.

Plates were set neatly on the table, silverware arranged perfectly beside them.

A bottle of chilled sparkling water stood in the center, and the faint crackle of the stovetop added a soothing rhythm to the room.

You glanced at the clock on the wall, noting the time. He should be home any minute now.

You adjusted the flame under the pot, letting the stew bubble gently, and moved to check on the freshly baked bread cooling on the counter.

The sound of the front door opening broke the quiet, followed by the rustling of heavy boots on the doormat.

Your heart gave a small flutter at the familiar noise.

He was home.

You didn’t look up from your task, your focus fixed on the pot as you gave it one last stir.

Toward the front door, the faint creak of the door closing reached your ears, followed by the soft thud of a duffle bag hitting the floor.

Bakugo’s presence filled the space immediately, even without a word.

The faint scent of smoke and ash mingled with the aroma of dinner, a signature of his return after a long day on patrol.

You heard the stretch of leather as he raised his arms high above his head, likely working out the stiffness from hours of action.

His footsteps echoed softly against the hardwood floor as he made his way down the hall.

You could picture him rubbing the back of his neck, his hair likely a mess from the day’s exertion.

The sound of his approach grew louder, each step deliberate yet unhurried, as if he were easing back into the calm of home.

You stayed at the stove, stirring slowly, waiting for him to join you in the kitchen, the moment of connection hanging in the air like the steam rising from the pot.

The clatter of the wooden spoon against the pot ceased as you set it down gently on the counter.

Wiping your hands on the apron tied snugly around your waist, you turned toward the kitchen's pillared entrance.

The soft shuffle of Bakugo’s steps nearing the kitchen tugged at your curiosity, and you couldn’t help but abandon your task momentarily.

You stepped around the corner, leaning casually against the frame of the kitchen entrance.

Resting your hand lightly on the wall, you peeked out toward him.

The sight of Bakugo, mid-stretch with his arms behind his head, immediately brought a fond smile to your lips.

His usual scowl was softened by a tiredness that clung to him, his messy ash-blond hair catching the dim light of the hallway.

He hadn’t noticed you yet, too busy absentmindedly rubbing the back of his neck, likely sore from a long day.

His broad shoulders rolled slightly as he worked out the tension, the faint sound of his knuckles popping filling the quiet space.

The corners of your lips curled further upward as you admired him in his element—worn out yet still exuding the confidence and strength you loved about him.

Before you could say anything, his crimson gaze lifted, finally catching sight of you standing there.

His expression didn’t shift much—just a subtle raise of his brows as if to acknowledge your presence.

You straightened slightly, your smile warm and inviting as you prepared to greet him.

But before you could utter a word, he spoke first, his gravelly voice breaking the silence.

“I’m going upstairs to shower. Gotta get this grime off my body.” His tone was matter-of-fact, and he started walking toward you without breaking stride, cracking his knuckles as he moved.

Your smile didn’t falter as he approached, though the hurriedness of his words made you hesitate. “Oh, well, that’s great,” you began, your voice light and teasing. “But don’t take too long becau—”

“Oh yeah, by the way, before I forget,” he interrupted, his voice cutting through yours without a hint of malice, just his usual bluntness. “The gang and I are gonna hang out later, so I won’t be home for long.”

The abruptness of his words hit you like a splash of cold water. Your mouth hung slightly open mid-sentence, the rest of your words caught in your throat.

Bakugo’s gaze didn’t linger long, already focused ahead as though his announcement was nothing out of the ordinary.

Bakugo’s heavy boots thudded softly against the wooden floor as he approached you, his expression unreadable but relaxed.

He stopped just in front of you, his tall frame towering slightly over yours.

The familiar scent of ash and sweat lingered faintly, a testament to his grueling day.

Without a word, his hand reached out, rough but warm, and landed gently on your head.

His fingers ruffled through your hair in a way that was both playful and dismissive, tousling it slightly.

A light smirk played on his lips as he pulled his hand back, his crimson eyes meeting yours briefly.

“I know you can handle things here, so I’ll leave you to it,” he said, his voice low and casual, like he hadn’t just brushed past the idea of spending time with you.

As you stood out in front of him, the confidence and courage you had gathered from cooking in the kitchen had disappeared.

Now that you felt this way, there was no way you were going to bring up spending time with him over dinner.

Even though you had spent all evening preparing this relaxing for the both of you to enjoy, you couldn’t bring yourself to to tell him.

You were scared that if you had opened up, he might have gotten angry and dismissed all your worries with his furrowed brows.

Your heart sank a little at his words, but you forced a small smile, not wanting to let it show.

He turned on his heel without a second glance, his footsteps carrying him toward the staircase that led to the second floor of your shared home.

As he walked, his broad shoulders swayed slightly, his relaxed demeanor a stark contrast to the tension that suddenly gripped your chest.

You stood frozen for a moment, your mouth hanging slightly open, the words you wanted to say stuck somewhere in your throat.

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, but you blinked rapidly, willing them away. You hated how they burned, how they threatened to spill over.

This wasn’t the first time Bakugo had brushed things off, but tonight, with the effort you’d put into dinner and the mounting distance you felt between you two, it stung more than usual.

He reached the first step of the staircase, his hand brushing against the railing as he prepared to ascend.

At you stood, something inside you snapped—a small but resolute voice urging you not to let the moment slip by.

Swallowing hard, you gathered the courage you had left, your voice trembling slightly but steady enough to cut through the air.

“Can I go too?”

Bakugo paused mid-step, his back still facing you, as the silence stretched between you both.

For a moment, you wondered if he had even heard you or if he’d continue up the stairs without a response.

Then, he turned his head slightly, revealing his side profile, his crimson eyes glancing at you.

“You wanna come?” he asked, his tone even and unreadable, a single brow raised in surprise.

Your hands instinctively came together, fidgeting as you avoided his gaze.

“Yeah,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. Gathering a bit more courage, you glanced up at him, noticing his blank expression.

It only lasted a second before you looked down again, unsure how your request would be received. “I mean, if that’s okay…”

Bakugo stared at you for a beat longer, his brow still raised as if trying to gauge your seriousness.

Then, his features softened, his raised brow lowering as he gave a small, nonchalant nod.

“Yeah, uh, sure,” he said, his voice carrying a casualness that made it hard to tell how he really felt.

Without another word, he turned back toward the stairs.

Relief washed over you, and a small smile crept onto your face as you followed his movements with your eyes.

It wasn’t much, but his agreement made you feel a little better, a small step toward closing the gap that had been forming between you two.

As Bakugo reached the first step of the staircase, he stopped again, his hand on the railing.

He turned his head just enough to look back at you, his expression neutral but firm.

“I’m leaving by 6, so get ready,” he said, his tone leaving no room for negotiation.

Then, without waiting for a response, he ascended the stairs, his heavy footsteps echoing through the quiet house.

You stood there in the kitchen, your smile slowly fading as his words sank in.

Glancing at the half-finished dinner you’d worked so hard on, your arms dropped to your sides, mirroring the exhaustion settling in your chest.

The kitchen felt colder now, emptier, as you stood there alone, staring at the plans you’d made that now felt insignificant.

With a deep breath, you tried to shake off the weight of disappointment, forcing yourself to move and tidy up the counter.

But no matter how much you willed yourself to focus on the task at hand, the sting of his casual dismissal lingered, leaving a quiet ache in its wake.

───────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────────────

The soft hum of the Porsche's engine filled the quiet evening air as Bakugo sat in the driver’s seat, his hand drumming absentmindedly on the steering wheel.

His gaze occasionally flicked toward the house, his sharp crimson eyes scanning for any sign of you.

The minutes ticked by, and though he didn’t say it out loud, he was growing impatient.

But there was a part of him that understood why you were taking your time—he had sprung this last-minute outing on you, and you deserved a moment to get ready properly.

Inside, you were slipping on your white Converse, carefully tying the laces with precision.

The finishing touch to your outfit had just been added—a chic combination of blue jeans, a navy blue tank top, and a white cardigan that fell perfectly against your frame.

You smoothed down the fabric, giving yourself a once-over in the mirror by the door.

Your navy blue purse rested comfortably on your shoulder, and the messy bun you’d styled earlier sat perfectly atop your head, with the white headband completing the look.

Satisfied, you grabbed your keys and reached for the door handle.

As you stepped outside, the soft glow of the porch light illuminated your figure.

The evening air was cool against your skin, and the faint scent of freshly cut grass lingered.

You glanced toward the sleek black Porsche parked in the driveway, where Bakugo sat waiting for you.

Inside the car, Bakugo looked up as the light from the open door seeped out, drawing his attention.

His sharp gaze landed on you, and for a moment, his breath hitched.

You looked stunning—effortlessly chic yet understated, the kind of beauty that didn’t need to try too hard.

The way the soft curls framed your face, the navy blue of your tank top complementing your skin, and the casual elegance of your outfit made his heart skip a beat.

He blinked, trying to maintain his usual composure, but the faintest tint of pink crept onto his cheeks, betraying him.

It was subtle, just enough to hint at the effect you had on him, but it was there.

His grip on the steering wheel tightened slightly as he tore his eyes away for a brief second, trying to recover.

"Damn," he muttered under his breath, glancing at the dashboard as if it could somehow distract him.

But his gaze inevitably drifted back to you, his expression softening in a way only you could bring out in him.

He didn't say anything just yet—he wasn’t the type to gush—but the way his cheeks betrayed a rare blush spoke volumes.

The soft hum of the Porsche’s engine was steady as Bakugo sat, his hand draped nonchalantly over the steering wheel while the other rested against his mouth.

His sharp crimson eyes flicked away from you as you descended the steps toward the car, trying to keep his focus elsewhere.

The blush that had crept onto his cheeks earlier lingered faintly, and though he wouldn’t admit it, seeing you like this had thrown him off his usual composure.

You opened the passenger door with care, stepping into the car and adjusting yourself in the plush seat.

The faint scent of Bakugo’s cologne mingled with the new-car smell, giving the cabin a warmth that was uniquely him.

As you closed the door gently behind you, you glanced up to see him leaning against the driver’s side, his elbow propped on the car door and his hand casually gripping the wheel.

His relaxed posture was natural, but the way his eyes darted toward you from the corners of his vision betrayed a subtle curiosity.

“Sorry I took so long,” you said softly, brushing a loose curl behind your ear.

Your voice broke the quiet tension, and you weren’t sure if you imagined his lips twitching into a faint smirk.

“It’s fine,” he replied, his tone gruff yet calm, as he adjusted himself in the seat and placed both hands on the wheel.

Hearing the simplicity of his response made you smile, a quiet warmth blooming in your chest.

You carefully removed your bag from your shoulder, placing it neatly on your lap.

Bakugo, meanwhile, shifted the car into reverse, the soft rumble of the engine vibrating beneath you as he backed out of the driveway with precision.

You stole a quick glance at him from the corners of your eyes.

The streetlights outside cast a warm, golden hue that framed his sharp jawline and stern features as he focused on maneuvering the car.

He looked so effortlessly confident, so in control—it was hard not to admire him.

Reaching up, you flipped open the vanity mirror above your head, giving yourself a quick once-over.

You smoothed down a stray curl and checked your lipstick, making sure everything was still in place.

Satisfied, you closed the mirror with a soft click and adjusted in your seat, letting your gaze wander back to him.

The quiet of the ride was broken only by the sound of the tires rolling over asphalt and the faint hum of the radio playing low in the background.

You bit your lip lightly, debating whether or not to say what had been on your mind.

Finally, you took a small breath, your fingers beginning to fidget nervously with the strap of your bag.

“Sooo…” you began, your voice tentative as you glanced out the window, gathering your thoughts.

Bakugo didn’t respond immediately, his focus remaining on the road ahead. His silence urged you to continue, so you did.

“How do I look?” you asked, your tone light yet tinged with curiosity.

Your gaze flickered toward him briefly before quickly looking back down at your lap, where your fingers continued to toy with your bag strap.

The quiet hum of the car filled the space between you and Bakugo, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife.

His eyes were fixed on the road, one hand on the wheel, while the other rested lazily on the gear shift.

You waited patiently, watching him through your peripheral vision, hoping for some kind of reaction to your question.

He didn’t answer immediately, his gaze momentarily darting toward you before returning to the street ahead.

The streetlights flickered as they passed, casting warm, golden hues across his sharp features.

His silence stretched on, and for a moment, you wondered if he hadn’t heard you.

Finally, Bakugo turned his head slightly, his crimson eyes flickering toward you.

His gaze traveled up and down, taking in the effort you’d put into your outfit—the way your cardigan fell over your tank top, the way your jeans fit perfectly, and the way you’d styled your hair just so.

His expression remained stoic, but his eyes lingered just a beat longer than usual before he turned back to the road.

“You look,” he began, his voice even though there was a slight edge of hesitation.

He glanced at you again, briefly meeting your expectant gaze before focusing back on the street.

You could see his jaw tighten slightly, as if he were searching for the right words. “Good.”

That was it. Just one single, lackluster word.

Your shoulders sank immediately, the corners of your mouth pulling down as disappointment washed over you.

You slumped back into the passenger seat, crossing your arms loosely over your chest and shifting your gaze out the window.

You had spent so much time getting ready, hoping that maybe this time, he’d notice—really notice—and say something that would make you feel special.

But “good” was all you got.

Bakugo, on the other hand, was far from unaffected, though he certainly didn’t show it.

His mind was racing, replaying the moment he’d glanced at you and the way your face had lit up with hope.

His knuckles tightened slightly on the steering wheel, and a bead of sweat formed at his temple as frustration with himself began to build.

His brows furrowed as he stole another glance at you.

You were staring out the window now, your expression unreadable but your body language screaming disappointment.

“Tch,” he muttered under his breath, gripping the wheel tighter.

You remained quiet, sinking further into your seat as the car rolled through the neighborhood streets.

Your fingers toyed with the edge of your cardigan, your mind replaying the moment over and over.

Maybe you’d set yourself up for disappointment.

Maybe this was just who he was—gruff, blunt, and not the type to shower you with compliments.

Still, you couldn’t help the small ache in your chest.

Bakugo’s jaw clenched as he continued to drive, the silence between you both growing heavier with each passing second.

───────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────────────

The drive to Kirishima’s house was silent, the tension lingering like an unspoken weight between you and Bakugo.

He didn’t try to make conversation, and honestly, you weren’t sure you’d be able to respond even if he did.

Your disappointment sat heavy in your chest, though you were doing your best to push it down and keep your composure.

When the car finally rolled to a stop in front of Kirishima’s house, Bakugo shifted into park and stepped out without a word, slamming his door behind him.

You sighed softly, your fingers gripping the strap of your purse as you reached for the handle of the passenger door.

Opening it, you slid out of the car, closing it gently behind you.

Bakugo was already several steps ahead, his strong strides carrying him toward the house without so much as a glance back at you.

You swallowed hard, your throat feeling tight as you followed behind him, your fingers nervously playing with the strap of your purse.

You felt small and distant, the space between you and Bakugo feeling far more than just physical.

As Bakugo reached the front porch, the sound of laughter and chatter drifted through the air, spilling out from behind the closed door.

The lively atmosphere of the gathering inside only seemed to amplify the quiet distance you felt from him.

Bakugo raised a hand and knocked on the door firmly, stepping back slightly as he waited.

You stopped a few paces behind him, your hands gripping your purse strap tightly as your mind raced.

You were determined to stand tall, to keep your emotions in check and not let anyone see how you were feeling.

The door swung open after a few seconds, revealing Kirishima’s grinning face.

His red hair was as wild as ever, and his cheerful energy was almost infectious.

“Yo, man! You made it!” Kirishima greeted Bakugo with a hearty slap on the shoulder before turning his attention to you. “Hey! Good to see you too!”

“Hey, Kiri,” you said softly, forcing a small smile as you stepped closer to the door.

“Come on in! Everyone’s already here,” Kirishima said, stepping aside to let the two of you in.

You followed Bakugo inside, the warmth and energy of the room enveloping you immediately.

Mina, Jirou, Denki, and Sero were sprawled out in the living room, laughing and chatting amongst themselves.

Mina was the first to notice your arrival, her eyes lighting up as she waved enthusiastically.

“Hey, you two!” Mina called out, jumping up from her seat and rushing over to you.

She wrapped you in a quick hug, her bubbly personality as bright as always. “You look so cute tonight! I love your outfit!”

“Thanks, Mina,” you replied, your smile faltering slightly as you glanced toward Bakugo.

He was already making his way toward the group, offering a brief nod of acknowledgment before settling into a seat near Sero.

Denki grinned, leaning back on the couch and tossing a chip into his mouth. “Look who finally decided to show up. We thought you might’ve bailed on us, Bakugo.”

“Shut it, Sparky,” Bakugo shot back, though there was no real bite in his tone.

As the group erupted into laughter, you found yourself lingering near the edge of the room, unsure where to place yourself.

Mina noticed your hesitation and grabbed your arm gently.

“Come sit with us! You can’t just stand there looking all pretty and quiet,” she teased, leading you toward the group.

You let her guide you, settling into a spot on the couch beside Jirou.

The lively conversation around you was a stark contrast to the swirling emotions in your chest, but you did your best to blend in, laughing when it felt appropriate and nodding along to the banter.

All the while, your eyes occasionally flicked toward Bakugo.

He was laughing with Sero and Denki, his usual gruff demeanor softened slightly by the presence of his friends.

But not once did he look your way, and that small detail gnawed at you more than you wanted to admit.

You inhaled deeply, forcing yourself to focus on the moment and not the ache in your chest.

Tonight was about being with friends, and you were determined to make the most of it, even if things with Bakugo felt more complicated than ever.

You sat on the couch, nestled between Jirou and Mina, trying to focus on their lively conversation.

Bakugo was across the room, laughing with Sero and Denki as if the weight of the world didn’t exist.

You glanced at him briefly, your chest tightening before quickly averting your eyes back to Mina, who was animatedly recounting a story about a recent date with Kirishima.

“So, get this,” Mina said, her face lit with excitement. “Kiri and I went to this new arcade last week, right? And they had this claw machine he swore he could beat. It was filled with these little red dragon plushies—totally his thing, you know?”

Jirou smirked, leaning back against the couch. “Let me guess. He spent way too much money trying to win one?”

“Way too much!” Mina exclaimed, throwing her hands up dramatically. “But he finally got it, and he was so proud of himself. It was adorable.” She giggled, her expression softening.

“Honestly, though, it’s not even about the claw machine. Kiri and I just… we have fun, you know? We go out, we talk about everything.”

Jirou nodded, a small smile tugging at her lips. “That’s exactly how it is with me and Denki. He’s a dork, but he’s my dork. We go to concerts, hang out at record stores, and just… talk. Like, really talk. He tells me about his day, his dreams, even the dumb stuff that happens during patrols. It’s nice, being so connected.”

The warmth in their voices as they spoke about their relationships was palpable, and it made you feel like a shadow in their light.

You shifted in your seat, suddenly hyper-aware of the tightness in your throat.

“And you,” Mina said, turning her bright eyes toward you. “How are things with you and Bakugo?”

Jirou tilted her head, her expression curious but kind. “Yeah, how’s it going? You two seem solid.”

The question hit you like a punch to the gut.

You opened your mouth, but no words came out at first.

Your fingers fidgeted with the hem of your cardigan, and you forced a smile, even as your chest felt like it was caving in.

“Oh, we’re fine,” you said, your voice a little too high-pitched. You cleared your throat quickly, trying to steady yourself. “Everything’s good. Really good.”

Mina beamed. “That’s great! You two are like, the power couple. I mean, he’s Bakugo—grumpy as hell but so in love with you. It’s obvious.”

“Totally,” Jirou added, nodding. “You balance each other out, right? He’s all intensity, and you’re like this calming presence. It works.”

You laughed softly, the sound hollow to your own ears. “Yeah, it works,” you echoed.

They bought it, smiling warmly at you before diving back into their own banter.

But inside, you felt like you were crumbling.

The truth was, things weren’t fine.

They hadn’t been for a while. Bakugo’s constant focus on work, his friends, and his own world had left you feeling like an afterthought.

You glanced at him again.

He was leaning back in his chair, laughing at something Denki said, his sharp features softened by the rare smile on his face.

It was a side of him you loved, but right now, it only made the ache in your chest worse.

Forcing yourself to stay present, you turned back to Mina and Jirou, nodding along to their conversation.

You couldn’t let them see the truth—not here, not now.

So you plastered on your smile and pretended everything was fine, even as the weight of your unspoken feelings threatened to crush you.

---

An hour passed as you, Mina, and Jirou chatted away about everything under the sun—relationships, patrol stories, and even a hilarious moment when Denki shocked himself trying to fix a broken lamp.

Despite the warmth of their company, a small part of you still felt detached, your earlier feelings lingering like a shadow.

Mina, ever the bubbly one, suddenly perked up. “Hey, I just thought of something! Let’s go to the other room and watch a movie! I’ve been dying to see that new romance everyone’s talking about. What do you think?”

Jirou shrugged, a hint of a smile on her face. “Sounds good to me. I could use a break from all the noise out there.”

You hesitated, but the thought of getting away from the others, even for a little while, seemed appealing. “Yeah, sure,” you said softly, your voice steady despite the turmoil inside.

The three of you made your way to a quieter room down the hall.

It was cozier than the bustling main area, with soft lighting and a plush couch that wrapped around most of the room.

The atmosphere immediately felt more intimate and calm, a perfect escape.

Mina grabbed the remote and flopped onto one side of the couch. “Alright, let’s get this show on the road!”

Jirou settled next to her, her legs tucked beneath her while you took the other end of the couch.

The movie started, its opening scenes filled with charming banter and budding romance.

The three of you fell into a comfortable silence, the story drawing you in.

As the movie progressed, the lighthearted moments gave way to more emotional scenes.

The characters faced challenges, their love tested by misunderstandings and miscommunications.

Then, the pivotal scene arrived.

The male lead stood in the rain, his face etched with regret as he argued with the female lead.

Her voice broke as she shouted, tears streaming down her face. “You don’t get it! I feel invisible to you!” she cried, her words hitting too close to home for your comfort.

Your chest tightened as you watched her crumble, her emotions raw and unfiltered.

The male lead, realizing his mistake, stepped forward and pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly as she sobbed against his chest.

Your heart ached, the scene striking a chord that you couldn’t ignore.

The floodgates opened, and before you knew it, tears were streaming down your face.

Your breathing grew shallow, and your palms began to sweat as you clutched the couch cushion beside you.

Mina and Jirou, engrossed in the movie, didn’t seem to notice your reaction at first.

But as you sniffled quietly, Jirou glanced over, her expression softening. “Hey, you okay?” she asked, her voice gentle.

You quickly wiped your cheeks, forcing a smile. “Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just… really emotional,” you said, your voice wavering slightly.

Mina turned her head, concern flickering in her eyes. “It’s okay to cry, you know. Scenes like this get me every time,” she said, offering you a reassuring smile.

You nodded, appreciating their kindness but feeling exposed nonetheless.

The movie continued, but your mind was elsewhere.

The female lead’s words echoed in your head, intertwining with your own unspoken feelings.

“I feel invisible to you.”

The weight of those words settled in your chest, and though you tried to focus on the screen, the tears wouldn’t stop.

You wrapped your arms around yourself, trying to keep it together, but the truth was, you felt more vulnerable than ever.

The tears came harder, no longer quiet sniffles but soft, trembling sobs that you couldn’t hold back.

The scene on the screen blurred as your vision clouded with tears, and your chest felt impossibly heavy.

Mina and Jirou both turned toward you, their expressions shifting from casual concern to alarm.

“Whoa, hey… are you okay?” Jirou asked, leaning closer, her voice gentle but tinged with worry.

Mina’s brows furrowed, her lips pressing into a thin line.

She grabbed the remote and paused the movie, the room falling into silence except for your shaky breaths.

She scooted closer to you, her hand resting lightly on your arm.

“Alright,” Mina said firmly, her tone serious but warm. “What’s going on? This isn’t just about the movie, is it?”

You shook your head quickly, trying to wipe the tears away with the back of your hand, but they just kept coming.

“It’s nothing,” you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jirou gave you a skeptical look. “Come on, don’t do that. You’re obviously upset.”

Mina nodded, her grip on your arm tightening just slightly in encouragement. “Yeah, we’re here for you. So whatever it is, just say it.”

For a moment, you hesitated.

The lump in your throat made it hard to speak, and you didn’t want to burden them with your feelings.

But the way they looked at you, genuinely concerned and ready to listen, broke down the last of your defenses.

“It’s… it’s Bakugo,” you finally admitted, your voice cracking as fresh tears rolled down your cheeks. “I just… I feel like we’re drifting apart.”

Mina’s eyes softened, and Jirou tilted her head slightly, her expression thoughtful.

“What do you mean? Did something happen?” Mina asked, leaning forward, her tone gentle now.

You took a shaky breath, your hands fidgeting nervously in your lap. “I don’t know… it’s like he’s always so busy, and when he’s home, it’s like I’m not even there. He doesn’t notice when I try to do things for him. I cooked dinner tonight, hoping we could eat together and talk, but he just brushed it off and left to hang out with you guys.”

Mina’s face fell, a pang of guilt crossing her features. Jirou’s lips pressed together, her brow furrowing.

“I know he’s a hero, and I know his job is demanding, but… I just feel so invisible to him sometimes. Like I’m not a priority,” you continued, your voice trembling. “And I’m trying so hard to be okay with it, but it’s just… it’s hard.”

Mina reached for your hand, squeezing it tightly. “I’m so sorry,” she said softly. “I didn’t realize things were like this.”

Jirou nodded, her gaze serious. “That sounds really tough. You shouldn’t have to feel like that, especially not with someone who’s supposed to care about you.”

You sniffled, grateful for their support, but still feeling the weight of your emotions. “I don’t know what to do anymore. I love him, but… it feels like he’s slipping away.”

Mina wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into a comforting hug. “You’re not alone in this, okay? We’ll figure it out. And honestly, Bakugo needs to hear this too. He probably doesn’t even realize how much he’s hurting you.”

Jirou nodded in agreement. “Yeah, he’s not exactly the most emotionally aware guy, but he cares about you. You just have to tell him how you feel.”

Their words brought a small measure of comfort, but the thought of confronting Bakugo about your feelings still terrified you.

You knew they were right, though. Something had to change.

You sat there in Mina’s embrace, your tears slowly subsiding, though your chest still felt tight.

The weight of their words lingered, and you knew they were right.

As terrifying as it seemed, you had to talk to Bakugo.

But how? He wasn’t exactly the type to sit down and have a heart-to-heart.

Mina pulled back slightly, her warm hands resting on your shoulders as she looked you in the eye. “You have to tell him,” she said firmly.

“And not in a ‘hinting’ kind of way. Lay it all out. He’s not good at picking up subtle stuff.”

Jirou nodded, leaning back on the couch. “Yeah, Bakugo’s not gonna magically figure it out. But if you’re honest with him, I think he’ll listen. He’s stubborn, but he’s not heartless.”

You sniffled, wiping your face with the sleeve of your cardigan. “I just… I don’t want to come off as needy or like I don’t support him. I know how hard he works.”

Mina sighed, shaking her head. “Girl, no. This isn’t about being needy. This is about being in a relationship where you feel seen and loved. You’re allowed to have needs, too.”

Jirou added, “And honestly? If he doesn’t get that, then that’s on him. Relationships are about both people putting in effort. It’s not all on you.”

You nodded slowly, their words sinking in.

It wasn’t easy to hear, but deep down, you knew they were right.

You couldn’t keep bottling everything up and hoping things would magically improve.

Mina smiled softly, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. “Look, Bakugo might be a hothead, but he’s not a bad guy. If he knew you were feeling this way, I think he’d do something about it. But you’ve got to give him the chance to step up.”

You sighed, fiddling with the strap of your purse. “I guess I’ll try talking to him later… when we’re alone.”

“Good,” Mina said with a nod, her tone encouraging. “And if you need backup, you know where to find us.”

Jirou smirked slightly. “Yeah, we’ll set him straight if he doesn’t get the message.”

The three of you shared a small laugh, the tension easing just a bit.

Mina grabbed the remote and turned the movie off completely, standing up and stretching.

“Alright, let’s get back to the others before they start wondering what we’re up to.”

You nodded, standing up and smoothing out your clothes.

As the three of you made your way back to the main living room, you felt a mix of emotions swirling inside you.

Anxiety, hope, and determination all competed for space in your heart.

As you stepped into the room, Bakugo was standing near the corner with Kirishima, laughing at something Sero had said.

His usual sharp smirk was etched on his face, but there was something different in the way his eyes flickered toward you, a hint of something unreadable beneath his confident exterior.

For a moment, you just watched him, debating how you’d navigate the rest of the evening while the conversation with Mina and Jirou still echoed in your mind.

What you didn’t know, however, was that Bakugo had heard everything.

It wasn’t intentional.

On his way to the bathroom earlier, he had walked past the closed door of the cozy room where you and the girls had been talking.

At first, he hadn’t thought much of it—just chatter from Mina and Jirou, nothing unusual.

But then he caught the sound of your voice, trembling slightly, and his feet had stopped.

He hadn’t meant to eavesdrop. Really, he hadn’t.

But something in your tone made him pause, leaning against the hallway wall just out of sight.

He listened as Mina and Jirou pressed you about how things were going between the two of you.

He heard the way your voice wavered when you said everything was fine—so unconvincing that even he could tell it was a lie.

And then came the confession.

You weren’t happy.

You felt ignored, neglected.

You felt like he didn’t see you anymore.

The words hit him like a punch to the gut, and for a moment, he couldn’t breathe.

You, the person he cared about most, felt like you were slipping away, and he hadn’t even noticed.

His knuckles clenched, and his jaw tightened as he leaned his head back against the wall.

Guilt surged through him, hot and unrelenting. He wasn’t great with emotions; he knew that.

But hearing you spill your heart out to your friends, feeling like he didn’t care enough—it stung more than he wanted to admit.

When Mina and Jirou encouraged you to talk to him, he heard the hesitation in your voice, the fear of being seen as needy or overbearing.

It made his chest ache. You should never feel like that—not with him.

He had walked away before you left the room, needing a moment to collect himself.

By the time he rejoined the group, his mind was racing.

As you stepped into the living room, Mina nudged you gently with her elbow. “You’ve got this,” she whispered before heading to the group, leaving you to take a deep breath and square your shoulders.

Bakugo, standing near the corner, glanced your way.

His sharp smirk remained, but his eyes lingered on you a little longer than usual, softening for the briefest second before he turned back to Kirishima and the others.

He didn’t say anything, but in the back of his mind, he was already planning.

He wouldn’t let you feel like this again. Not if he could help it.

---

The night had wound down, and one by one, everyone began saying their goodbyes.

Mina and Kirishima gave you tight hugs, Mina giving you a reassuring smile as if to silently remind you of the conversation you’d had.

Jirou patted your arm, her subtle way of showing she was rooting for you.

Bakugo, meanwhile, was his usual self—casual nods, a few gruff “See ya’s,” and a fist bump for Kirishima.

His energy seemed as steady as ever, though you noticed the way his eyes flickered toward you more than once, a slight crease in his brow that he didn’t quite hide.

As the two of you made your way to his car, the quietness of the night enveloped you.

The cool breeze brushed against your skin, and the sound of your shoes crunching against the gravel filled the silence.

You felt Bakugo’s presence ahead of you, his confident stride unchanging, though he occasionally glanced back to make sure you were keeping up.

When you reached the car, he pulled his keys from his pocket, unlocked the doors, and slid into the driver’s seat.

You followed, gently closing the passenger door behind you and placing your bag on the floor by your feet.

The faint scent of leather and his cologne filled the space, a scent you usually found comforting.

Without a word, Bakugo started the engine.

The low rumble of the car filled the stillness as he pulled out of the driveway and onto the street.

His hands rested on the wheel, firm but relaxed, his eyes trained on the road ahead.

You glanced at him from the corner of your eye, trying to read his expression, but it was the same stoic mask he always wore.

The weight of the evening felt heavy in your chest, and despite the warmth of the car, you felt a chill run through you.

The drive was quiet at first, the soft hum of the engine the only sound between you.

You wanted to say something, anything, but the words felt stuck in your throat.

You fidgeted with your fingers, your gaze shifting between the passing streetlights outside and Bakugo’s profile.

He hadn’t said much since you left Kirishima’s house, and it left you wondering if he’d noticed the distance between you—or if it even mattered to him at all.

Bakugo’s hands tightened slightly on the wheel as he drove, his jaw clenching and unclenching as if he was working through something in his mind.

His gaze remained steady, but every now and then, you noticed his eyes flicker toward you, though he said nothing.

The silence was deafening, and with every passing second, it felt like the space between you grew larger.

Finally, unable to take the tension anymore, you shifted in your seat and let out a soft sigh, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Thanks for driving,” you said, your tone polite but distant.

He grunted in response, a low “Yeah,” his focus still on the road.

The quiet settled again, heavier this time, and you found yourself staring out the window, the lights of the city blurring past.

You wanted to say more, to breach the gap between you, but something held you back.

Bakugo, meanwhile, stole another glance at you, his expression unreadable.

He wanted to speak, to address the weight in the air, but the words felt foreign to him.

For now, he just drove, the road stretching ahead, both of you caught in your own thoughts.

The car hummed softly as the city lights flickered past, but the silence between you and Bakugo felt louder than anything else.

You leaned your head against the cool glass of the window, your eyes fixed on the blurred scenery.

Your hand rested on your lap, fingers nervously fidgeting with your nails as your thoughts raced.

What had started as disappointment had now spiraled into uncertainty.

You couldn’t shake the weight of the conversation with Mina and Jirou, nor the growing chasm between you and Bakugo.

You’d tried so hard to keep it together, but being here, so close yet feeling so far, made it even harder.

Bakugo kept his eyes on the road, his grip on the wheel firm.

Inside, he was battling a storm of emotions.

The echoes of your words from earlier replayed in his mind, mingling with the snippets of the conversation he’d overheard at Kirishima’s.

“I just… I don’t know how much more I can take.”

He wasn’t good with words.

Hell, he wasn’t even good at feelings most of the time. But he wasn’t stupid—he could feel the distance, and it frustrated him because he didn’t know how to close it.

His crimson eyes flickered to you briefly.

The way you sat there, so quiet and withdrawn, tugged at something deep in his chest.

He hated seeing you like this, especially knowing he’d been the one to make you feel this way.

After what felt like forever, Bakugo’s resolve finally cracked.

His hand hesitated on the wheel, fingers tightening for a moment before he let out a sharp breath.

Slowly, almost cautiously, he reached over.

His hand covered yours, warm and slightly rough, the weight of it grounding you.

You blinked, startled by the sudden contact, and turned your head to look at him.

Bakugo didn’t meet your gaze right away.

His eyes stayed focused on the road ahead, his jaw tight, like he was bracing himself for something.

His thumb shifted slightly, brushing against your fingers in an awkward but earnest gesture.

“Hey,” he said, his voice quieter than usual, almost hesitant. “Stop doin’ that.”

You stared at him, confused. “Doing what?”

“Fidgetin’ like that,” he muttered, finally glancing at you for a split second before looking back at the road. “You’ll mess up your nails or somethin’.”

His words were gruff, almost dismissive, but the way his hand stayed on yours told you there was more to it.

He wasn’t just talking about your fidgeting—he was trying, in his own clumsy way, to tell you he cared.

Your chest tightened as you looked down at your joined hands.

The warmth of his touch, the slight awkwardness of the gesture—it all made your emotions bubble up again, but this time, they weren’t as heavy.

“Katsuki…” you began, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Don’t,” he interrupted, his grip on your hand tightening just a fraction. “Don’t say it. Not here, not like this.”

You nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat, and leaned back against the seat.

For the first time that evening, the silence between you didn’t feel quite as suffocating.

The car came to an abrupt stop at a red light, but the tension in the car felt like it had slammed into a wall at full speed.

Bakugo’s hand hovered over the wheel, his knuckles white as he gripped it.

His chest rose and fell with uneven breaths, but your anger was a storm now, and it couldn’t be contained.

“Seriously?” you demanded, your voice sharp and trembling. “If not here, then where? If not now, then when?”

Your hand yanked away from his, the warmth of his touch replaced by the cold sting of frustration. “You always say that, Bakugo. You always brush our problems away. You… you brush me off like I’m some kind of bug.”

His eyes darted to you, his lips parting as if to defend himself, but you didn’t give him the chance.

“You treat me like I’m not worth your time,” you continued, your voice cracking under the weight of your emotions. “Do you even know what I was doing before you came home? I was cooking dinner. For you. For us.”

Your hands shook as you gestured toward him, your words pouring out in a rush. “I did all of that so we could talk, so we could try to fix this. Just so I could know—know for sure—that I mean something to you.”

The light turned green, and Bakugo hit the gas with a little more force than necessary, his jaw tight as he stayed silent.

But you couldn’t stop now.

“But of course,” you spat, your voice rising, “your friends are more important! Work, training, hangouts—all of it is more important than me!”

The car swerved slightly as Bakugo’s grip faltered, and he shot you a glance, his brows furrowed in frustration and guilt. “But they’re not! You’re more important—”

“Don’t give me that crap!” you cut him off, your voice almost a shout now. “If I’m so important, then why do you keep pushing me away? Why do you make time for everyone and everything else but not for me? Huh? Answer me!”

Bakugo’s mouth opened, but no words came out. His silence was deafening, and it only stoked the fire inside you.

“Why, Katsuki?” you pressed, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and hurt. “Why do I have to fight so hard to feel like I matter to you?”

The car pulled into your driveway, and Bakugo threw it into park, his hands gripping the wheel so tightly it looked like he might snap it in two.

For a moment, the only sounds were your ragged breaths and the faint hum of the engine.

Finally, Bakugo exhaled sharply and turned to you, his crimson eyes filled with a mixture of guilt, frustration, and something else—something softer, something that looked a lot like regret.

“You do matter,” he said, his voice low but firm. “You mean everything to me, damn it. I just… I don’t know how to show it.”

But you shook your head, the tears you’d been holding back finally spilling over. “That’s not enough, Katsuki. It’s not enough to just say it. I need to feel it. And right now, I don’t.”

Your words hung in the air, heavy and unshakable, as Bakugo stared at you, his expression unreadable.

For once, the explosive hero had no words, and the silence between you felt like it could split the world in two.

Your chest heaved as the emotions you’d been holding in for so long spilled over.

Tears streamed down your face, your voice trembling and raw as you finally let everything out.

“Why couldn’t you have just spent time with me?” you cried, your voice breaking as your gaze locked on Bakugo.

He flinched at the pain in your voice but said nothing, his hands clenching into tight fists on his lap.

“Why couldn’t you see that while you were having fun, I was feeling miserable?!” you continued, your words cutting through the silence like shards of glass.

Bakugo’s eyes darted toward you, filled with a mix of guilt and helplessness, but you didn’t stop. You couldn’t stop.

“Listen, Katsuki...” you began, your voice softer but no less intense. “I love you. So much it hurts.” Your words hung in the air, trembling with sincerity. “But it’s starting to feel like... like you don’t feel the same.”

His head snapped up at that, his crimson eyes wide and frantic. “That’s not true!” he blurted, his voice rough and unsteady. “Don’t—don’t say that, alright?”

But you shook your head, your tears falling harder now. “Then why does it feel like I’m always fighting for your attention? Fighting for a moment of your time?”

Your voice cracked, and you pressed a trembling hand to your chest, as if trying to hold yourself together.

Bakugo opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out.

His jaw tightened, and his gaze fell to his lap, his fingers gripping his knees so hard it looked painful.

You could see the frustration, the guilt, the turmoil swirling in his expression, but it wasn’t enough.

It didn’t fix the ache in your heart.

“I don’t want to feel like this anymore,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “Like I’m not enough for you. Like I’m not your priority.”

Bakugo’s head snapped up again, his eyes blazing with emotion. “You are my priority!” he insisted, his voice desperate now.

“You’re everything to me, alright? I just... I just don’t know how to handle all this shit sometimes!”

His voice cracked at the end, and for the first time, you saw something in him you rarely did—vulnerability.

He looked at you like he wanted to say a million things but didn’t know where to start.

But it wasn’t enough. Not yet.

“Then show me, Katsuki,” you said, your voice steady despite the tears streaming down your face. “If I mean so much to you, then show me. Because words aren’t enough anymore.”

His breath hitched, and for a moment, the only sound in the car was the faint hum of the engine.

Bakugo looked at you, really looked at you, and for once, the explosive hero seemed completely lost.

Bakugo’s chest rose and fell with unsteady breaths as he stared at you, his crimson eyes shadowed with guilt and frustration.

He opened his mouth to respond, but the words seemed to die in his throat.

His hands clenched tighter on his lap, and he turned his gaze to the steering wheel, as if looking at you was too much to bear.

The silence stretched, heavy and suffocating.

You could feel your heart breaking all over again as you watched him struggle to say something—anything—that could make it better.

“You’re right,” he finally said, his voice low and strained. “I’ve been a shitty boyfriend.”

The admission startled you.

Your breath hitched, and you blinked through your tears as you waited for him to continue.

“I’ve been so focused on everything else—work, training, trying to keep up with everyone—that I didn’t realize what it was doing to you. To us.”

He dragged a hand through his hair, the motion rough and frustrated. “And that’s on me.”

His voice trembled slightly, and he slammed his fist against the steering wheel, the sharp thud breaking the tense quiet. “Dammit, I didn’t mean to make you feel like this. Like you don’t matter.”

You watched him, your tears still falling, but something in his voice tugged at your heart.

It wasn’t just guilt; it was desperation.

“But you do, alright?” he said, turning to face you fully now. His crimson eyes locked onto yours, raw and unguarded.

“You matter more than anything else in my life. I just... I don’t know how to balance it all without screwing it up.”

His hands trembled as they rested on his thighs, and you realized how much it was costing him to admit this.

Bakugo Katsuki, the man who always seemed so sure of himself, so strong and unshakable, was unraveling in front of you.

“You’re not the problem, alright? I am,” he continued, his voice softer now. “And I swear to you, I’ll fix this. I’ll fix us. Just... don’t give up on me yet.”

Your heart ached at the vulnerability in his words, but the pain you’d been carrying for so long still lingered.

You looked at him, your tears blurring your vision, and took a shaky breath.

“Katsuki, I’m not asking for perfection,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “I’m asking for you to try. To make me feel like I’m worth it. Like we’re worth it.”

He nodded, his jaw tight as he swallowed hard.

“I will,” he said, his voice firm despite the emotion in his eyes. “I’ll prove it to you. I’ll be better. For you.”

You stared at him, searching his face for sincerity, and what you saw there made something in your chest loosen.

He looked at you like you were his whole world—like he couldn’t bear the thought of losing you.

For the first time in a long time, you felt a flicker of hope. It was small, fragile, but it was there.

“Okay,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll hold you to that.”

Bakugo nodded again, his eyes never leaving yours. “You can.”

The car fell into silence again, but this time, it wasn’t heavy or suffocating.

It was filled with unspoken promises, with the beginnings of something better.

And for now, that was enough.

---

Bakugo’s hand enveloped yours, firm yet gentle, as if he was anchoring himself to you.

The warmth of his grasp communicated what his words had struggled to convey earlier—a need, a desire to hold on to you no matter what.

The silence in the car was filled with unspoken understanding as you both sat there, the weight of the evening settling between you.

When the car finally pulled into your driveway, you barely had time to move before Bakugo was already out of the driver’s seat.

He strode purposefully around the car, his movements sharp yet filled with intent.

You blinked in surprise as he opened the passenger door, crouching down to your level.

His crimson eyes met yours, raw and unguarded. “You mean a lot to me,” he began, his voice steady but thick with emotion.

“So much... and I’m sorry for not showing you.”

Your breath caught in your throat as his words tumbled out, each one more heartfelt than the last.

“I’m sorry for not replying. I’m sorry for not being there. I’m sorry for not showing up,” he continued, his voice cracking slightly as he leaned closer.

“I promise, though, from now on... everything I do, I’ll do it with you on my mind.”

His hands found their way to your thighs, a touch so gentle and deliberate it sent a shiver through you.

It wasn’t just an apology—it was a plea, a vow.

“I promise you,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper, “that from now on, I’ll do everything in my power to make you feel loved. So please, don’t give up on me. Please, don’t lose hope.”

Your heart clenched at the vulnerability in his tone, the rawness of his confession.

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, but you managed a small, wavering smile as you placed your hand over his.

“You swear?” you asked, your voice trembling with emotion.

His grip on your thigh tightened just slightly, his crimson eyes boring into yours with unwavering determination.

“I promise,” he said, his voice firm yet soft.

That was all you needed to hear.

A small, genuine smile spread across your lips as you nodded.

For the first time in what felt like forever, you felt the weight lifting off your chest.

After a moment, Bakugo stepped back slightly, holding out his hand to you.

You placed your hand in his, and he helped you out of the car with a gentleness that contrasted his usual brash demeanor.

Once you were both standing, he didn’t hesitate—he pulled you into a tight, almost desperate hug.

His arms wrapped around your waist, holding you as if he was afraid you’d slip away.

His head rested against your shoulder, and you could feel the tension in his body slowly melting away.

“I missed you,” you whispered, your fingers threading gently through his spiky blonde hair.

“I missed you more,” he murmured against your shoulder, his voice low and filled with emotion.

You stayed like that for a while, wrapped up in each other’s warmth, the world around you fading into insignificance.

It was as if time had paused, giving you both a chance to reconnect, to heal.

When he finally pulled back, his hands still rested on your waist, and his gaze locked onto yours.

The intensity in his eyes took your breath away, and before you could say anything, he leaned in, capturing your lips in a deep, passionate kiss.

It wasn’t just a kiss—it was an apology, a promise, a declaration.

His lips moved against yours with a fervor that made your knees weak, his hands tightening slightly on your waist as if to ground himself.

You responded just as passionately, pouring every ounce of love, frustration, and hope into the kiss.

When you finally pulled apart, both of you were breathless, your foreheads resting together.

His crimson eyes softened as he looked at you, a small, genuine smile tugging at his lips.

“Thank you,” he said softly. “For not giving up on me.”

You smiled back, your hand coming up to cup his cheek. “Just don’t make me regret it.”

He chuckled softly, his voice lighter than it had been all evening. “I won’t. I swear.”

In that moment, standing together in the driveway under the soft glow of the porch light, you felt something shift between you.

A new beginning, built on honesty and love. And for the first time in a long time, you believed things could truly get better.

ADULT BAKUGO FANFICTION

[strawberrynull]

──☆🌀 touch starved

엔하이픈 | Enhypen | Nishimura Riki

A/N: Guysssss I haven’t written in so long 💔💔 but I had a thought and idk if yall will like it but HEAR ME OUTTTTTT

──WC: around 700

Thinking about touch starved Riki who is so overstimulated tonight. He’s so horny, he’s already finished once while you haven’t yet. He’s just going too fast and sloppy that he can’t keep up a rhythm.

He’s getting frustrated because poor boy can’t even go a full minute without getting so overstimulated that he needs to pause and take a break. You just feel so unbearably good wrapped around him.

Thinking about touch starved Riki who has you tangled between his legs. He’s practically sitting on one of your legs with the other thrown over his shoulder.

He’s fucking so hard into you that he needs to grip your thighs so tight just so he won’t cum in two seconds flat. He even ends up hugging the leg that’s thrown over his shoulder because he just needs to be touching you with his whole body.

Thinking about touch starved Riki who can’t even lean over you because his head keeps falling back. He ends up sitting on his heels the entire time as if you’re the one on top of him.

And whenever he does manage to lean over to be fully top of you, the second he sees your pretty face, oh he’s done for. He’s immediately cumming a second time.

Thinking about touch starved Riki who is a moaning mess because he’s just so frustrated, overstimulated and so fucking horny. He’s typically not the type to be whining like this but tonight is different. He hasn’t touched you in so long, he just can’t help it ☹️

He has his head thrown back and jaw slack, letting out the sluttiest moans you’ve ever heard from him. And if he tries to cover his mouth? It doesn’t last long before he’s clawing at your thighs again. He can’t form any words, just pretty groans and whines.

Thinking about touch starved Riki who finally puts both legs over his shoulders. Bad idea. With your legs closed a bit, now you feel even tighter around him. Before he even realizes it, he’s cumming a third time. Poor boy is practically shaking at this point. He’s breathless and tired but still so horny, he can’t take it.

You’re here reaching for his hips to try to help him out a bit. You guide him into a better rhythm that has you finally finishing around his cock. But when he feels that it’s like you’ve started a fire in him. He’s spurred on again and thrusting into you like an animal in heat.

Thinking about touch starved Riki who is on the edge of tears from how heavenly you feel cumming on his dick. He’s moaning like he’s never felt anything better in his life. He’s bit his lip so hard that it’s bleeding but he somehow doesn’t even notice from the trance he’s lost in.

The bed is squeaking uncontrollably like it’s going to break at any moment and at some point you genuinely think it might. But obviously he doesn’t notice that either. He can only think about you and your tight cunt.

Thinking about touch starved Riki who actually fucking collapses on top of you after he finishes for the last time tonight. He’s panting and shaking and too tired out to move an inch. And you have to just lay there with him practically crushing you under his body weight. He just needs to catch his breath ☹️

Thinking about touch starved Riki who finally comes to his senses and rolls off of you. Then he’s apologizing over and over again for coming so many times and not letting you do the same. You don’t care though. You’re just happy you were able to make your precious boyfriend feel so good.

Thinking about touch starved Riki who wants to treat you to the sweetest softest aftercare but he physically cannot fucking move. So instead you happily fetch a damp towel to wipe the sweat and juices off his spent body, leaving soft kisses on every inch of his skin that you clean. ❤️

A/N: sorry this was so rushed I just wanted to write it before I forgot it. Anyways enjoy me posting after almost a year of inactivity

[totalswag]

Hi! I have a request if you are up for it!

Okay so how about reader and Drew are together and they have a fight before an interview with the obx cast. And reader is skipping her meals and didn’t sleep properly. During the interview she zoned out multiple times while fidgeting with her fingers. The others notice that she’s unusually quiet and are a little confused and concerned about what happened. Maddie pulls you aside when she notices that you’re hands are slightly shaking due to the lack of food and sleep and asks if everything is fine and maybe Drew hears it and is concerned. I just need some angst

fractured moments ⎯ 𝑫𝑹𝑬𝑾 𝑺𝑻𝑨𝑹𝑲𝑬𝒀

authors note super sorry this is so late! i’m catching up with my requests atm (bare with me lovies). please remember to take care of yourselves beautifuls. i hope you like this <3

taglist ⤕ if you would like to be notified every time i post you will type in your username then be all set to go.

masterlist

summary getting into a heated argument with your boyfriend, drew, before an interview with your co stars. you haven’t been taking care of yourself, you co stars notice and drew is concerned.

warning(s) angst, fighting, loss of sleep, not eating enough.

Today was gonna be scattered with interviews back to back⎯a long ass day. Been up since four in the morning to get ready then drive to the studio where the rest of your co stars await.

Drew and you had a fight. The fight had left both of you hurt and frayed. Words you couldn't take back echoed in your head, leaving a terrible taste in your lips. You both shedded a few tears.

When you arrived at the studio for the Outer Banks cast interview, you put on a faint smile, hoping it would be enough. The rest of the cast was already present—Maddie, Clarcia, Chase, Madison, Rudy, and JD—chatting and laughing as usual. You attempted to join in, but the pain in your chest made it difficult to concentrate.

"Hey, is everything okay?" Maddie asked softly, putting her right arm around your shoulder, pulling you in close, before sitting in the chair next to you.

"I'm good," you lie but making your voice promising to her⎯so she won't be suspicious.

The interviewer takes a seat across from you, introducing herself to everyone and preparing to ask questions. 

You, on the other hand, remained quiet. Drew was all you could think about, along with the fight. Fiddling with your hands on your lap and looking around your co stars. 

"Y/N, Scarlett, what do you like about your character?" the interviewer inquired passionately moving in her chair. 

You slowly move your head to the side, smiling as best you can. "I would say her compassion for friends and standing up for herself, even in difficult situations," you explain cautiously. 

The cast nods in unison, smiling at your response. Drew placed his right knee over his left, arms crossed over his chest, and intently listened to your words.

As the interview went on, your friends began to notice your typical laughter and outgoing self wasn't in the room. Out of everyone in the cast, you have a bunch of energy, always putting a smile on everyone's faces⎯making jokes, etc.

At the end of the interview, everyone said thank you and goodbye. Maddie's hand touched your bicep as you were getting out of the chair and guiding you to the corner.

Taking both hands, I said, "Baby, there's something going on in your thoughts. Tell me what's bothering you. We're all concerned.

"It's just⎯I haven't been eating lately, Drew and I had this fight this morning, I've been going through so much lately," you say, pausing in the middle of your sentence as you feel tears welling up in the corners of your eyes.

Maddie quickly hugs you, holding you tightly, rubbing your back in gentle circles, allowing you let everything out. Madison and Carlacia come over, giving you a warm hug. They tell you they're here for you and encourage you take good care of yourself.

"We love you so much, Y/N, it breaks our hearts you're feeling this way," Madison responds, "have you spoken to Drew?" Carlacia questions. 

In response to Carlacia's question, you shake your head.

All a sudden, Drew's voice appears, your head quickly looking up. Your eyes soften seeing him in front of you.

"Hey, could I please speak with her?" His voice was unusually quiet as he asked. 

After a moment of hesitation, Maddie nodded and gave your arm a comforting squeeze before leaving with Madison and Carlacia.

Drew's blue eyes searched yours as he stared at you. Why didn't you tell me, Y/N?

You said, without raising your voice above a whisper, "I didn't want to make things worse."

His face twisted. "I really regretted everything. What I said was not intended. I hate seeing you in this state."

His touch was warm and comforting as he reached for your shaking hands, causing tears to prickle your eyes. You muttered, "I didn't mean what I said either."

With one hand gently caressing gentle circles on your back and the other behind your head, Drew draws you close to his warm body. He apologized in a whisper and said, "I don't want you to treat yourself that way."

"I love you so much, baby." "To me, you are everything."

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[noorpersona]

Pregnancy: Sakusa

You’ve tried the pillows. The pregnancy belt. The heat pad. You’ve leaned forward, leaned back, sat on the edge of the couch with your feet planted just right like the blogs say. You’ve even tried that ridiculous looking yoga ball that Kuroo swore helped his sister. Nothing works. Not really.

Your lower back has become a constant, pulsing drumbeat of dull pain, like your spine itself is growing resentful. The weight of your belly pulls forward like an anchor strapped to your hips, and every time you shift, you swear you can hear your vertebrae protesting. There’s no sweet spot anymore, just a rotation of tolerable positions. You grit your teeth through them, muttering curses under your breath.

You’re laid sideways on the couch now, a pillow stuffed between your knees, one arm tucked under your bump, the other flopped over your eyes like you’re shielding yourself from the end of the world. It’s not even late. The sun’s still up, golden light filtering through the blinds. You just couldn’t take being vertical anymore.

This is the part no one talks about. Not the cute baby kicks, not the weird cravings or the glow everyone swears you have. It’s this—sore, swollen, and tired in a way that sleep can’t fix. Even breathing feels like it takes effort.

And through it all, Sakusa is there.

He’s been steady. Quietly doting. Not the type to coo over baby socks or rub your feet with oil while humming lullabies, but the kind of man who starts carrying hand sanitizer in your favorite scent just in case you need it. The kind who keeps snacks in the car, reminds you to hydrate without making it sound like a chore, who started going to prenatal appointments not because you asked, but because he wanted to understand everything. Who reads parenting books with sticky tabs and highlights and pretends he didn’t.

He’s not loud about it. He doesn’t post bump photos or narrate your journey in grand poetic terms. But he’s shown up every day in ways that matter. Never once flinching when you sobbed over dropped pickles or had a breakdown in the baby aisle because you couldn’t decide between two swaddle patterns. He holds the pieces when you feel like you’re falling apart. He never makes you feel like you’re too much.

You hear the front door click open, then the quiet hush of it swinging closed. You don’t move. Just listen to the familiar sound of Sakusa’s footsteps coming in—soft, always measured, always deliberate. No keys clatter. He always puts them in the bowl on the shelf. No shoes squeaking either; he wipes them, every time. You know it’s him without having to look.

He pauses in the entryway, no doubt clocking the mess of your position. Then, his voice—calm and even, with that velvety weight that always makes your heart twitch even when you're annoyed.

“Back again?”

“Mmh,” you hum noncommittally, eyes still covered. “Felt like someone took a crowbar to my spine. So I gave up.”

There’s a beat of silence. You imagine him there, eyes scanning you—your hunched shoulders, the tension in your jaw, the deep set crease between your brows. He’s not the type to hover. Not the type to fuss, at least not where you can see it. But you know him well enough by now. If he could physically fight your discomfort, he would’ve by now. With gloves on.

You feel the couch dip near your legs. Then the rustle of a bag being set down.

“I read about something,” he says slowly.

You lower your arm just enough to peek at him. He’s still in his work clothes—jacket slung over the armrest, sleeves rolled neatly past his elbows, forearms bare. His mask is off, stashed away now that he’s home. You catch the faintest crease of worry between his brows, like he’s weighing the next words carefully.

“Can I try?” he asks.

You blink, too tired to be curious. “Whatever. Go for it.”

He tilts his head. “You have to stand up first.”

You lower your arm further to shoot him a flat look. “You’re joking.”

“I’m not.”

You huff, but he’s already sliding a hand beneath your arm. Gently, steadily, he helps you sit up, then rise to your feet with the kind of efficiency that speaks to practice. He’s been doing this for weeks now—helping you in and out of bed, out of the car, off the floor when you insisted you could pick something up by yourself.

“I swear to god, if this is another stretch video where I end up looking like a tipped cow—”

“It’s not.”

“Because if I fall, I'm taking you down with me.”

“Duly noted.”

Once you’re upright, he steps behind you. You feel the warmth of him, close and focused. One of his hands briefly trails up your spine in a slow, soothing pass—a single stroke meant to coax your muscles into releasing some of their stubborn tension.

"Relax," he murmurs, voice low and steady, his breath brushing the shell of your ear.

Then his hands brush your hips and slide slowly beneath the swell of your belly. One palm anchors, the other adjusts. It’s deliberate, the kind of precise contact that could only come from research and repeat watching. Then—he lifts.

Just an inch. Maybe two. But it’s enough.

The relief is instant.

Your lower back uncoils like a spring released from tension. That hot, grinding ache that’s lived there for weeks just… lessens. Not gone entirely, but dulled. Blurred. Like someone finally turned the pressure dial down from an eleven to a manageable hum.

You let out a sound you weren’t expecting—a breath that shudders out of you with more feeling than you meant to show. Like your whole body’s been waiting for this and didn’t know how to ask.

“Oh,” you breathe, eyes fluttering shut. “That’s… holy shit.”

You hear him exhale, and the barest hint of a smile follows in his voice.

“Guess it works.”

You nod, or try to. “What even—how’d you think of that?”

“There’s a forum,” he says. “A bunch of people were talking about it. Said lifting the weight can take pressure off the sacroiliac joint. Sounded reasonable.”

Of course it did. It’s so— him. Reading about biomechanics like it’s no big deal. Quietly researching ways to ease your pain without saying a word. You picture him in bed at night, phone dimmed, scrolling through medical threads while you snored beside him.

You lean back slightly, weight shifting into his hold like you’re trusting it—trusting him—with more than just the curve of your belly. His hands adjust to steady you.

Then you feel him begin to lower your bump back down.

“I didn’t say you could stop yet,” you murmur, voice hushed and wry.

His hands still immediately.

There's a pause, not because he's unsure—but because he’s listening. Because when it comes to you, Sakusa never rushes.

You feel his thumbs move slightly, drawing slow circles near your hips as he steadies the lift again, as if to say, I’ve got you.

"Should’ve tried this ages ago," you mumble.

You’re still basking in the quiet relief of his hold. Your back doesn’t feel like it's screaming anymore, and for the first time in hours, your body feels like it belongs to you again—like maybe you're not just a vessel walking around with sore feet and too many hormones.

He shifts slightly, adjusting the lift with a faint grunt.

"He’s heavy," Sakusa murmurs. There’s no complaint in his voice—just quiet awe.

You smile faintly, placing a hand over his. "That’s your fault."

"My fault?"

"You’re six-three, with legs like telephone poles. What did you think was gonna happen?"

He huffs a soft, amused breath behind you. "Could still be your fault. Maybe you manifested it."

You snort. "Yeah, I manifested a linebacker. Great job, me."

"He’s not even here yet and I already feel outnumbered," he mutters.

You squeeze his hand. "Don’t worry. He’ll probably inherit your poker face. You two can be brooding and beautiful together."

A beat. Then, so quiet it barely makes it to your ears:

"He’s going to be perfect."

You close your eyes, feeling everything swell in your chest all at once.

"He already is."

And there’s something so simple, so steadfast in the way he says it that you have to bite your lip against the warm rush crawling up your chest.

You rest your hand over his where it cups your belly. "Kiyoomi?"

"Mm."

"I love you."

His thumb strokes once, slow and deliberate. You hear the breath he draws, steady as ever.

"I know," he says quietly. "I love you too."

And just like that, in the stillness of your living room, with the soft glow of daylight bleeding through the windows and his arms supporting you from behind, you feel the kind of full-body peace that no prenatal yoga class has ever given you.

You don’t move. Neither does he. Because for now, this is enough.

[notarmedandnotdangerous]

+18 mdni! faceless desire; a fic where bucky finds out about reader's little secret

cw: camboy!m!reader, porn with plot (shocking), use of shitty usernames, stream comments included, bucky finds out about the existence of adult websites, male masturbation, edging, multiple orgasms, slight overstimulation, use of toys (vibrator, dildo), voyeurism (kinda cuz reader is streaming), mentions of steve, and sam, bucky patches reader up after he gets hurt, bucky gets turned on after hearing reader's voice

word count: >3.5k

[1] [2] [3] [4]

a/n: i really tried to expand on this idea, hopefully i did it justice.. i racked my brain for ideas and yeah .. i came up w this! its filthy but WHO CARES i was waiting for people's opinions before i posted this 💔💔 so sorry it was a slow upload

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

you were all heart, though often lonely in ways that you never talk about, and you lived a bit of a double life. by day you were friendly, open, all while being coworkers, and decent friends with the avengers, especially bucky. by night though, you slipped into something more revealing, quite literally. you were making money by being a streamer on an adult site, going by the username ‘le charmeur’, which literally translates to ‘the charmer’ in english. it was a shitty username, but it’ll do, you were planning on staying faceless anyway. your camera was always cropped at your collarbones, and you never used your real name.

bucky, on the other hand, was more quiet, reserved, observant, a complete opposite of your personality. after all, he had been chased by death for practically most of his life, and had never learned how to truly relax. even though he was always quiet, you had fallen for him. you never told him though, never wanted to ruin the friendship you had with him and the others. his screen name, ‘alpine17’ though, was better known in the comment section of your streams.

it all started when bucky came home from a particularly rough day. he dropped his briefcase by the couch, and walked into the office of his apartment. the apartment was dark, except for the faint glow coming from the lamp on his work desk. while he stressed about work as a congressman, alpine, his cat, was sleeping peacefully on her bed next to the couch.

he needed to blow off some steam, so he clicked into an adult site, hoping to ‘relieve’ his stress.

he somehow ended up stumbling into your account, ‘le charmeur’, he curiously clicked into it, his eyes widening as he saw the obscene videos on your account. he let out a breath he hadn’t realised he was holding. your stream popped up in the corner, and he thought it would be a good idea to join, maybe he could get himself off to your videos?

you were sitting on the bed, feet propped up against the bed as you fucked yourself with a dildo. bucky’s breath hitched at the sight of you.

alpine17:

‘found this stream by accident. best accident all week.’

he typed in the comment section. there was a small pause. then you responded to his comment.

“hmm. sometimes.. the algorithm gets it right. hm, alpine17, never seen you here before.” you spoke, your voice all breathy from fucking yourself. “welcome, newbie.” that was it. no ‘thank you’ for being here, no exaggerated welcome, just you, putting on a show for bucky, and the other thousands of people watching, of course.

user1:

‘god this new guy is so lucky! charmeur noticed him immediately..’

user2:

‘watch out newbie, everyone’s coming for you now!’

“c-come on, guys.. don’t be too mean, you’ll scare him away..” you muttered, before cutting yourself off with a moan. “aah, fuck, it’s just.. so deep..” the way you played with yourself drove him absolutely crazy. you pressed the dildo as deep as you could, before pulling it back out, just to slam it back in.

“fuck.” he took his pants off, stroking his own cock, all while imagining the dildo in you was his cock instead. he stroked himself at the same pace of you fucking the dildo into your ass.

“mmh- g-gonna cum, on y-your cock, sir..” you whimpered, you had changed your position, now you were arching your back so that the camera could focus on your ass instead. “s-shit, fuck, mmh c-cumming..” you finally came, entire body shuddering as you fucked yourself to ride out your orgasm. bucky had timed his orgasm with yours, his cock twitching desperately against his abs when he finally did.

alpine17:

‘think you can take one more, babydoll?’

he commented, shamelessly. this time he attached a $50 donation. he sighed, slowly teasing his cock as he waited for your response.

“o-of course sir, you’re so generous, i’d be evil to deny your request.” you pulled out a silicone board, sticking the dildo to it. you lined it up, before slowly sinking down. your legs shook visibly, while your cock twitched. bucky had never seen anything like your cock, it was so pretty, and a good size too. “doing this for you, sir, you know who you are.” you started to bounce on the dildo now, letting out the prettiest, most sinful moans ever, while your cock slapped against your abs with each bounce.

“mmh, f-fuck.” it didn’t take long for him to cum. in fact, he came before you even did. he didn’t even think to stop, just kept going, at the same pace as you in the stream. he ended up overstimulating himself, cumming multiple times to the obscene stream playing on his computer.

“thank you, for accompanying me tonight, and for the generous donations.. fucked myself so good..” you said drunkenly, doing your signature move of gently swiping your hand in front of the camera just before you ended your stream.

when bucky came to, he realised he had stayed longer than he meant to. he had came to the sight of you for at least 3 times. that’s when he knew, he was fucked.

the next morning

you, sam, and bucky had met up for coffee, the 3 of you were planning a surprise party for steve, after all, he was turning 107 soon. he was a living fossil at this point, but you wanted to celebrate him for many years to come. while you, and sam talked, bucky was staring, as always. he seemed different today, like he was distracted, and more flushed than usual.

“hey, buck, you okay?” you waved a hand in front of him, watching him flinch. “this isn’t like you. what’s wrong?”

“yeah, man. you haven’t talked all morning, and you’re usually excited to celebrate steve.” sam joined in, voicing his concern for bucky.

“i’m fine. just tired, work.” bucky spoke, bluntly. his voice in a different tone than usual. he couldn’t get ‘le charmeur’ out of his mind. he had been thinking about you since last night, and it drove him insane.

“sure, and i’m the president.” sam joked. after an hour, the 3 of you have decided on how to plan steve’s birthday.

“i have to go.” bucky checked his wrist watch, knowing he has to leave for work. he stood up, walking away. you and sam looked at each other cluelessly, before you both left as well.

later that evening

bucky had so much to do. so many meetings to attend, so much paperwork to sign. it was a particularly busy work day, and he felt more pent up than usual. at 9pm, he finally finished everything he was supposed to, and left the office. he couldn’t wait to see ‘le charmeur’ on his computer screen again, helping him get rid of all this stress.

bucky was slightly earlier compared to yesterday, entering just as you started streaming. you saw his username pop up, and you called out to him.

“alpine17, newbie! you’re early today.” you chuckled, the sound sending shivers down his spine. you sounded weirdly familiar, but he couldn’t put his finger on it.

alpine17:

‘hi, got off work earlier.’

“since you were so generous yesterday, i’ll let you pick what i do today.” you spoke, making his heart skip a beat. you were wearing the shirt you had on that morning when he met up with you. ‘what a coincidence’, he thought.

alpine17:

‘why don’t you edge yourself tonight, babydoll? with a vibrator?’

bucky typed, before shakily pressing the ‘enter’ button to send his comment.

“oh, edging? you’re really not gonna let me cum, sir? not even with how pretty i look when i do?”

alpine17:

‘you’ll do what i say, and that’s it.’

he tried to act bold, and it worked on you. your breath stuttered as you let out a whimper when you read the comment.

“t-that’s too bad then..” you walked out of frame, your microphone picking up the sounds of clattering as you looked for your vibrator. after a while, you finally came back, with the soft pink vibrator in your hand.

at the sight of you, bucky immediately stripped his pants off. he watched you lay against the pillows on your bed, turning the vibrator on and dragging it all around your length.

“s-see that..? i’m so hard, and it’s all because of you, sir.” you stuttered, slowly stroking yourself as you dragged the vibrator against your balls. he followed along, stroking his cock to the sight of you playing with yourself.

after a while, he had cum twice now to the sight of you edging yourself. you started to blabber, your mind going hazy as you edged yourself, it was probably the third time now.

“please- uugh, sir.. c-can i cum now..?” you whined, begging him for mercy, begging him to let you cum. your begging stroked his ego like crazy, knowing how he had control of you through a screen, turned him on more than it should.

alpine17:

‘hm, maybe. why don’t you beg more? convince me that you deserve it.’

he typed, taking longer compared to usual, as one of his hands were occupied, stroking himself.

“aah.. please, please, sir.. i-i’ve been so good, did everything you- mmh, asked me to!”

alpine17:

‘go on, babydoll, cum for me.’

bucky’s cock twitched as he typed, he timed his orgasm with yours, as he always did. he stroked himself in time with each roll of your hips.

“t-thank you, sir.. uugh, c-cumming..” you came, and so did he. you were a shaky, stuttering mess, laying on the bed in bliss. he came for the third time, with a groan, his thighs shook from how the pleasure overridden his nerves. “felt so good, s-sir.” you chuckled. you took a few minutes to rest, laying on the bed until you eventually calmed down enough to speak.

alpine17:

‘you were so pretty, so good today.’

he typed, attaching another donation of $50.

“everyone’s so jealous of you, alpine17. they’re jealous of the attention i’m giving you.” you spoke, he was special, and very lucky, compared to the other people watching your stream. “they’ll hunt you down, considering how i let you toy with me earlier.” his face flushed as his cock twitched once more. ‘le charmeur’ was giving him extra attention, and his stomach filled with butterflies. you bid farewell to your viewers, before turning off your stream.

it became a pattern. evenings bled into midnights with ‘le charmeur’ on bucky’s computer screen. sometimes he just watched quietly, stroking his cock to whatever you were doing to yourself on stream. ‘le charmeur’ never showed his face, never gave a name, never revealed a city or timezone. it was practically impossible to figure out who ‘le charmeur’ actually was.

weeks had passed since he first watched your streams. the more he watched them, the more addicted he got. the first thing he would do when he came home from work was to watch your streams, and cum to them at least twice, before he could do anything else.

2 months later

the sun was hot, the court dusty, and neither of you had played tennis in a while. it didn’t stop you from dragging bucky out for a match though.

“i’m telling you, i used to be insanely good at this.” you waved your hands in the air, trying to prove your point.

“and how long ago was that?”

“..middle school. but let’s not talk about that!”

“right. we’re doomed.”

the both of you weren’t even that bad at it. you could return bucky’s shots, and bucky could return yours too, before it became clear that the both of you were equally as average, and equally as competitive.

you moved fast, despite the heat. you chased a wide shot, with the kind of recklessness that always got you in trouble. your foot got caught on the edge of the court, and you went down, hard. your shirt had ridden up when you fell, your waist scraping against the hard, rubbery court.

“shit.” bucky practically leapt over the net, running towards you. “you good, man?”

“define good, buck.” you winced, crawling back up, only to find the skin on your waist was raw, an ugly abrasion on your soft skin.

“don’t move.” he spoke, walking away and reaching into his bag.

“you carry a first aid kit?”

“technically no. i just carry the stuff i forget to throw out.” he spoke, bluntly, while you laughed.

“jeez, your disaster prep is definitely.. comforting.” you didn’t speak much as bucky cleaned you up, you just sat there, breathing through the sting. the bandage was wrapped perfectly, considering how most of you were active combatants, and needed to learn basic first aid.

“it’s not pretty, but it’ll hold.” he watched as you slowly got up.

“thanks doc.”

“that’ll be $25 dollars, and a slice of pizza.” he joked.

the both of you did end up getting pizza though. obviously, you offered to pay, partly because you owed him for treating your wound, and partly because you had extra cash to spare from your ‘side job’.

later that night

you started your stream slightly later than usual. and as if on cue, bucky joined. he sat on the seat of his office chair, staring into the view of you in front of him. today was different though, you had a shirt on, instead of being naked like usual.

“hi, little late today. took a hit, tripped like a fool earlier. so i can’t do much today..” you spoke, before sighing.

alpine17:

‘poor baby. show me the wound?’

bucky typed, it was embarrassing how straight forward he was being, considering how he was usually reserved and quiet. can you believe he was typing this shit publicly?

“battle scar of the week, alpine17.” you joked, adjusting your camera angle slightly, something you didn’t do often. the frame shifted lower than usual, just enough to show your waist, and hips, as you sat on your chair. then, ever so slowly, you pulled your shirt up, showing the ugly abrasion on your waist. neatly wrapped, white gauze, beige medical tape in a tight, double loop, it was wrapped in the way bucky always did it.

“what..” bucky blinked, leaning forward to take a closer look. “fuck.” that was his bandage. he had put that on. that exact wrap, that exact tuck in the gauze, the weirdly creased edge of the tape.

“i went to do some exercise today, haven’t been really active on the court. went a bit too hard, lost my balance and fell. it hurt so much.” you spoke, feigning an innocent voice, before chuckling, and adjusting your camera angle once more, so that it was back to the original position.

bucky wanted to type, no, say something, but he didn’t. his throat went dry as he connected the dots. he leaned back against his office chair, his brain running with thoughts of you. you were his favourite adult streamer, you were ‘le charmeur’ this whole damn time? you sounded and acted so familiar, he felt stupid that he didn’t connect the dots. he didn’t send another comment, didn’t expose him, didn’t even breathe. he just sat there, letting the quiet realisation settle over him.

“so quiet today, newbie?” you teased, completely oblivious to the fact that you had indirectly exposed your identity. you moved on, playing with yourself as usual, while bucky clicked off the stream, laying in bed as he realised he had been getting himself off to one of his best friends.

the following week

bucky spent the next few days pretending nothing had changed. he tried to, at least. now he knew, that they were the same, and that knowledge, that realisation, sat in his chest like a secret too big to keep. he didn’t wanna ambush you, didn’t want to ruin the trust the both of you had built over time, both online and in real life, but he couldn’t carry it alone anymore.

inside, every time you spoke, at the avenger’s compound, over texts, during their usual coffee run, he kept hearing that voice. not just your voice, but ‘le charmeur’’s voice, and it always made him hard.

“let’s go for tennis again next week, buck.”

“i.. i don’t know if i can make it, work and all.” bucky replied bluntly. “i need to go to the restroom for a while.”

“uh, okay?” you tilted your head in confusion, he had been acting weirdly for the past few days.

bucky rushed to the restroom, entering a random stall that at least had a working lock. he sat down on the seat, and pulled his cock out. it was red, flushed, pre-cum beaded at the tip as he realised how fucked he was. he stroked it quickly, eager to get himself off before you got suspicious of how long he was taking in the restroom. he teased his finger over his tip, just the way you always did with yourself, whines, and whimpers spilled out from his lips as he jerked himself off to the thought of ‘le charmeur’, the thought of you.

5 minutes had passed now, and you started to get worried. you left both of your coffees on the table, and you walked towards the restroom. you walked in quietly, not calling out to bucky just yet. you washed your hands, listening intently.

“mmh, f-fuck.” a stifled whine broke the silence, the voice sounded desperate, filthy.

your face flushed red immediately, as you covered your mouth with your palm, not wanting to make any sound. then, the realisation hit you. there was only one occupied stall, and he was the only one that was currently at the restrooms.

“..buck?” you spoke, your voice shaky. upon hearing your voice, bucky came immediately, accidentally letting out a groan that he didn’t hold in. “you okay, buck? where are you?”

“huh- mm, i-i’m fine.” he replied, voice breathy from his orgasm. he tried to play it off, but it was too late, you had already heard all of his breathy moans, his whimpers, his panting.

“buck, open the door right now.” you spoke, voice tense now, and it sent a shiver running down bucky’s spine. “i’m telling you, if you don’t open this door, i’ll break it down.”

“o-okay, i’m coming out.” he replied, putting his pants back on. thank god it was a sunday, he was wearing sweatpants instead of his usual slacks and loud belt. he looked absolutely ruined, his face flushed red as his eyes were glazed over. he stumbled a little as he walked, it was undeniable now, he had been masturbating inside the stall. “sorry.. got a bit occupied earlier.” he spoke bluntly, as if he was back to his usual self. the both of you stared at each other in silence, before he invited you over to his place. “i need to talk to you about something.. important.”

you gulped, nodding hesitantly. soon after, you were back at his place. you sat on the couch as he poured you a glass of water.

“recently, i’ve been.. pent up.” he confessed, and your eyes widened at the revelation.

“w-what?”

“i haven’t been touched in years. i was frustrated, and i..” he covered his face in embarrassment. “i stumbled onto an adult site.”

“okay, a-and then?” you stuttered, not knowing what to expect now.

“i’ve been watching this one streamer.. he helps me get off, almost every night. and that streamer.. i-is you.” he spoke, his voice cracked in guilt.

the both of you sat in silence momentarily, the room felt much smaller now. bucky broke the silence as he continued.

“i.. i’m sorry. i can stop, i’ll stop, if you want me to. i feel guilty, no one should do this to their own friend. i only found out through the wound on your waist.”

“you.. you weren’t supposed to know.. no one’s supposed to..” your eyes welled up with tears of humiliation, as you breathed heavily.

“i get that-”

“no, you don’t.” you snapped, your voice cracking. “that’s the only place i get to be me without people judging, knowing. i.. i built that space so that i could fucking breathe for once.”

“i.. i do get it, that space helped me breathe too. helped me take the edge off.”

“this.. this is so fucked up, buck.”

“why?” bucky inched closer towards you. “because we’re good friends? or because we’re more than that?”

“buck-” you turned around, eyes wide.

“i’m not trying to take anything from you. not your space, not your privacy, not your dignity. i.. i just couldn’t sit with it anymore. i couldn’t keep pretending i didn’t know you in more ways that one.”

“i need some time. i feel humiliated buck.. i-i’m not ready.” you walked out, leaving bucky hanging.

"..fuck."

[starkwlkr]

Oh my, imagine you and Hugh have a teen daughter who is like 16 or something, and she goes live and just keeps talking in brainrot terms while you don’t understand what she’s saying.😭😂

ps: love your writing💗

HOT TO GO! | hugh jackman

an: thank you anon for this request, it was so fun to write!! love youuuu

“And there’s my mom . . .” Olivia had walked into your room where you were doing your makeup at your vanity. She held her phone in her hand pointing it at you. “‘Mother is mothering’ I know right? She’s out here serving cunt on a Tuesday afternoon.”

Serving cunt? Did you hear that right?

You stopped applying the red lipstick on your lips and looked at your daughter. “I’m a cunt?”

Immediately the teen bursted out laughing. “No, oh my god! I didn’t mean you. You look great, that’s what I meant.”

The comments on Olivia’s instagram live were going crazy. They found it funny that their favorite actress was clueless.

natsyelena y/n is so adorable 😭

y/nupdates please tell her she’s mother

“The comments are telling you that you’re mother.” Olivia said to you. Again, you were confused.

“I know.” You reply. “I have three kids.”

Olivia chuckled. She then set her phone against the vanity mirror and posed while you continued doing your makeup. It was date night and Hugh had gotten you tickets to see Stevie Nicks perform. Olivia was heartbroken she wouldn’t be able to see her favorite singer, but Hugh promised her they would go see her at her next show as a family.

“What does that mean?” You pointed at a comment that caught your eye.

y/nstyle donatella VERSACE 💜

Olivia looked at the comment and laughed. “It’s a meme, mom. Donatella commented that on Bella Hadid’s post.”

Another comment caught Olivia’s attention.

xmenarchive SHOW HER THE JOSH HUTCHERSON EDIT

Olivia gasped then grabbed your phone since hers was on live. She searched on YouTube for the specific video and showed it to her mom eager to see her reaction. As whistle played and pictures of Josh Hutcherson appeared, a smile formed on your face.

“It’s Josh! I haven’t seen him in so long.”

“Wait what?” Olivia paused the video.

“He visited Jennifer on the set of X-men when I was visiting your dad and we hung out. Your brothers were also there too.”

“And you never told me?!” Olivia yelled. “The mom lore is insane.”

After learning more about you, the comments wanted you to react to THE Pedro Pascal, Steve Harrington, and other specific edits. Olivia gladly showed them to you.

Once you saw the Pedro edit, you giggled. “I’m going to send that to Pedro.”

“Guys, hide the fanfics!” Olivia shouted at her phone.

After coming back from the corner store with snacks, Hugh walked into your room where Olivia was teaching you the HOT TO GO! dance. He looked so interested in what you two were doing.

“You can take me hot to go!” Olivia finished the dance. “Look, the comments are saying you ate that up.”

“What the fuck?” Hugh said when he heard that.

“Guys, don’t worry I’ll teach her everything,” Olivia took the phone from the vanity and saw her dad with snacks. Some comments had recognized Hugh’s voice so they demanded Olivia to show him. “After this I better be everyone’s favorite nepo baby.”

“You’re not even my favorite nepo baby.” Hugh teased. Olivia then showed Hugh waving hello to the live.

“The viewers want me to teach you the hot to go dance.” She read some of the comments.

“No.”

“Oh ok so you hate happiness in others? I see the type of person that you are, Huge Ackman!” Olivia left her parents’ room to go continue her instagram live in her room.

Hugh stood beside you confused. “How did we raise completely different kids?”

You shrugged your shoulders. “I don’t know, but I learned so many things today.”

[reidmarieprentiss]

Quickie?

Summary: Reader wants to sneak in a quickie before the BAU takes off again.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x FBI fem!reader

Category: fluff, suggestive (16+)

Warnings/Includes: suggestive content, secret relationship, reader works at FBI but not BAU

Word count: 1.7k

a/n: this is much more positive than the last post :)

main masterlist

You and Spencer have been secretly seeing each other for a few months now. Since you work in a different department, you don’t get to see him as often as you’d like, and you never have the chance to join him on cases. 

The moment you see the news that the BAU is heading out on another case, your heart sinks just a little. You understand that Spencer’s job is demanding—he’s always chasing criminals across the country, putting his mind to work in ways that save lives. But it doesn’t make it any easier when he’s gone for days at a time, leaving you to miss him in silence.

With a quiet sigh, you pull out your phone and type out a message:

Meet me upstairs before you go?

You don’t have to say where. You both know. The fifth-floor office—empty, forgotten, your little sanctuary within the walls of the FBI. It had started as a joke, just a place to escape prying eyes when work got overwhelming, but over time, it had turned into something more. A safe space for the two of you.

The reply comes almost instantly.

Give me five minutes.

You don’t hesitate, pushing away from your desk and making your way to the stairs instead of the elevator. The anticipation sits heavy in your chest, a mixture of excitement and something almost desperate.

By the time you push open the office door, Spencer is already there, leaning against the desk, his messenger bag slung over his shoulder. His eyes soften the moment they meet yours.

“You’re fast,” you say, closing the door behind you.

“I wasn’t going to waste any time,” he murmurs, already reaching for you. His hands find your wrists, pulling you closer as he stays seated on the desk. His touch is warm and grounding, even through the layers of clothing.

Your fingers drift up to the collar of his cardigan, playing with the fabric as you let yourself relax in his presence. “I hate that you have to go.”

“I know.” He sighs, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “I hate it too. But I’ll call you as soon as I land.”

You nod, though it doesn’t really make it easier. “I just wish we had more time.”

His hand moves to your waist and tightens ever so slightly. “Me too.” There’s a pause, a hesitation in his expression, before he adds, “I think about you all the time when I’m gone.”

Your heart stutters at his confession, a warmth spreading through your chest. “Yeah?”

Spencer huffs out a soft, shy laugh. “Yeah.”

You can’t help but smile, reaching up to brush a lock of hair away from his face. “Then you better come back to me in one piece.”

You lean in, pressing a sweet kiss to Spencer’s lips—soft, slow, something that feels like a promise. When you pull away, he stays close, murmuring against your mouth, “Always.”

Something about Spencer’s breath ghosting across your lips sends a shiver down your spine. The soft pink hue creeping down his neck is so endearing that it stokes a fire deep in your stomach, pooling heat beneath your skin. You lean in for another kiss, slow and deliberate, savoring the way he melts beneath your touch. One hand threads gently through his hair, fingers curling lightly at the roots, while the other traces delicate patterns against his chest, nails just barely scratching over the fabric between you.

Spencer gets lost for a moment, his mind short-circuiting as he tries to process the reality of you—of your lips on his, of your hands in his hair, of the way you look at him like he’s something to be devoured. It still feels surreal, like a dream he’s half-convinced he’ll wake up from because someone as beautiful as you want him like this doesn’t seem possible.

But then reality crashes back in—the fluorescent hum of the office lights, the distant chatter from the floors below, the ever-present risk of someone walking in. His fingers tighten briefly against your waist before he forces himself to gently push against your shoulders.

“Wait…wait,” he murmurs, his voice breathless and uneven as he tries to collect himself. “We can’t do this here.”

Your lips are already trailing along his neck, warm and teasing, and the way you hum against his skin makes his resolve waver.

“Do what?” you tease, your voice laced with mischief as you press another slow, deliberate kiss just beneath his jaw.

Spencer exhales sharply, his head tipping back slightly before he forces himself to lean away, his cheeks flushed as he fumbles for words. “Um… this.”

Your fingers curl at the nape of his neck, holding him close, your voice dipping into something dangerously sweet.

“What are we doing, baby?” you whisper, letting the words linger between you, daring him to say it.

Spencer’s breath stutters as he struggles to find the right words, his hands hovering uselessly over your hips as if he can't decide whether to pull you closer or push you away. His face is already flushed, the color creeping down his neck and disappearing beneath the collar of his shirt.

“I—I’m… Y/N, I’m going to… uh, get—” He swallows thickly, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he tries and fails to look anywhere but at you. Finally, he forces the word out in a near whisper as if saying it any louder might make it worse. “Hard.”

A slow, knowing smile spreads across your lips as you tilt your head slightly, fingers still tracing lazy patterns along his chest. His honesty is endearing, his nervousness downright intoxicating, and the way his voice wavers only makes the fire in your stomach burn hotter.

“Oh,” you murmur, feigning innocence as your hand moves just the slightest bit lower. “Is that a problem?”

Spencer squeezes his eyes shut for a brief moment, exhaling sharply through his nose like he's gathering every ounce of self-control he has left.

“Yes,” he says, though it sounds more like a plea than a protest. “We’re at work.”

“And?” you press, leaning in just enough to let your lips ghost over his jaw.

He shudders, his grip on your waist tightening. “And… I can’t walk out of here like that.”

“Who says you’ll have to leave here hard?” you murmur, your voice dripping with mischief, your fingers still dancing lightly over his chest.

Spencer’s breath hitches, his body stiff as your words' weight settles over him. His pupils dilate, and for a brief second, you see the internal war flashing across his face—temptation battling with logic, desire against reason.

“Y/N…” His voice is barely above a whisper, shaky and uneven, like he’s already losing control. His fingers dig into your waist as if anchoring himself, but it’s no use—you can feel him unraveling beneath your touch.

Still, he shakes his head, his resolve clinging to the last fragile thread of professionalism he has left. “No, we can’t—not here.”

But his voice lacks conviction, and the way he’s looking at you, lips parted, breath shallow, tells you he wants nothing more than to give in.

You pout, tilting your head as your fingers trace slow, lazy circles against his chest. “Not here?” you echo, feigning disappointment. “That’s a shame… I was really looking forward to helping you with your little problem.”

Spencer exhales sharply through his nose, gripping your hips a little tighter like he's trying to physically keep himself in check. “It’s not—” He swallows, glancing toward the closed door like he’s calculating the risk. “It’s not a little problem.”

A slow, knowing smile spreads across your lips as you press closer, feeling the way his breath stutters at the contact. “Oh?” you tease, letting your hand trail just a little lower—not too much, just enough to make him squirm. “Is it a big problem, then?”

Spencer groans, tilting his head back in exasperation. “Y/N…” he warns, though his grip on you doesn’t loosen. If anything, it tightens.

You press a quick, teasing kiss to the underside of his jaw, feeling the way his pulse hammers beneath your lips. “I just think it’s kind of unfair,” you say innocently. “You’re about to leave for who knows how long, and I won’t even get to see you. The least I could do is make sure you’re… comfortable before you go.”

Spencer squeezes his eyes shut for a moment as if trying to gather every ounce of restraint he has left. “You are not making this easy.”

You hum, dragging your nails lightly over the fabric of his shirt. “You told me you didn’t want it to be hard.”

His breath catches, and he glares at you, but there’s no real heat behind it—just frustration laced with something darker, something wanting. “You cannot say things like that.”

“Why not?” You bat your eyelashes at him. “You’re the one who admitted to getting hard at work.”

Spencer groans, dropping his forehead against your shoulder like he’s conceding defeat. “You’re evil.”

You giggle, threading your fingers through his hair and scratching lightly at his scalp. “But you like it.”

He huffs out a breath against your neck, warm and shaky. “Unfortunately.”

You grin, pressing a lingering kiss to the side of his face before pulling back just enough to look at him properly. “Relax, baby,” you whisper, smoothing your hands over his chest. “I wouldn’t actually do anything here.” You lean in, your lips brushing against his in the softest tease of a kiss. “I just like making you squirm.”

Spencer exhales a laugh, shaking his head, but you can see how his eyes have darkened and how his fingers are still gripping your waist. “Yeah,” he mutters, his voice lower than before. “I noticed.”

You smirk, pressing one last playful kiss to his lips before pulling away completely, smoothing out your shirt like nothing had happened. “Well,” you say cheerfully, stepping back toward the door. “Have fun on your case.”

Spencer stares at you like he’s still recovering as if he’s not entirely sure if he should be frustrated or turned on. Probably both.

“You’re evil,” he repeats, though the way he’s looking at you says he wouldn’t have it any other way.

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

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[certaimromance]

𝜗𝜚 The Girl Next Door.

Spencer Reid x Neighbor!reader

next chapter | series mastelist | main masterlist

Summary: If Spencer thought being secretly in love with you was hard, having to avoid you in the hallway was even worse.

Words: 4,8k.

Warnings & Tags: this is part of a series, check the masterlist to make sure you are in the correct chapter. mention of jail. painter!reader. post prison reid. lack of communication. the reader has a cat. angst, so much angst. english isn't my first language (sorry for my mistakes, be kind please).

Note: I struggled a lot writing this because it's a roller coaster, so sorry in advance.

“How long? It's not a problem to take care of everything, but I'd like to know if you'll be okay or—” Your voice almost cracked for a moment, your eyes still trying to adjust to the sunlight streaming in through the bedroom window. Spencer's sheets were still wrapped around your body, and you felt so connected to them that the thought of getting up while still watching him toss and turn looking for his shoes was too much.

“I don't think more than a day or two, I'll be fine.” He stopped his chaotic steps for a second and stared at you as if to make a promise. He paused, glancing away as if to compose himself before adding, “I have some work in Mexico. It came up last minute, or I’d have told you earlier.” His voice faltered, almost imperceptibly, and the words sounded rehearsed, like he was repeating something he’d practiced.

You frowned slightly, confusion flickering across your face. “Work in Mexico?” you echoed. “Since when do they send you out of the country for cases?”

“It’s not that kind of work,” he said quickly, his tone just a little too smooth, a little too practiced. “It’s…consulting. A conference on forensic advancements, some behavioral workshops, things like that.” He kept his gaze on the floor as he spoke, as if afraid to meet your eyes. “I won’t be gone long.”

You didn’t question him further. Why would you? Spencer wasn’t the type to lie, and the way his brows knit together, the way his voice softened with the promise, “I’ll be back soon,” made you believe him. But something about the way he shifted his weight, the way he avoided looking directly at you, left a faint unease in your chest.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t have dinner with you yesterday. And breakfast now. I’ll make it up to you when I get back,” he added, his words tumbling out in a rush, as if trying to fill the silence.

You tightened the sheets around yourself, curling into their warmth, feeling the lingering heat from the side of the bed where he had been only moments before. It felt like he had never really left, the space around you still filled with the faint echo of his presence. Watching him now, his movements a little frantic, his gaze flickering toward the clock every so often, made you feel like he was slipping away too quickly. A part of you, small and selfish, wanted to ask him to stay. To sit back down, to let the world and his trip wait just a little longer.

But the words wouldn’t come. Instead, you whispered, barely above a breath, as if afraid to disturb the fragile moment, “Promise?”

Spencer’s gaze softened even further, a tenderness washing over his features as he moved closer to you. His lips curled into a faint smile, one that didn’t quite touch his eyes but was filled with something that made your chest tighten. “Promise,” he replied, his voice firm but gentle, as though sealing a pact between the two of you. He leaned down, his warm breath brushing your forehead before his lips followed, pressing a soft, lingering kiss against your skin. The kiss was tender, quiet, and almost reluctant, as though he didn’t want to pull away from this moment either. For a moment, his forehead rested against yours, the space between you vanishing entirely. It felt like the world had narrowed to just this, just the two of you, and all the invisible lines you had drawn between friendship and something more blurred into nothing.

But before you could do something stupid, he pulled back, with his eyes lingering on you, still filled with a softness that made your heart flutter. “Have you seen my shoe?” he asked, his voice playful yet tinged with the usual frustration of his misplaced belongings.

You let out a small laugh, still wrapped in the sheets, the warmth from them mingling with the warmth of the moment. “Oh, you’re a mess, little boy,” you teased, your voice light and affectionate, the fondness for him slipping out in every word.

“Mittens take it again?” Spencer asked, his eyes glinting with playful exasperation. He had grown accustomed to your cat’s antics, and he could hardly be surprised at this point.

You nodded, grinning as you pointed to the underside of the bed. “Ding ding, genius,” you replied, your voice light and teasing as his gaze followed your finger. Sure enough, there it was, tucked under the bed, another casualty of your mischievous cat’s nightly adventures.

He grumbled good-naturedly, but a soft smile tugged at the corner of his lips, as if the chaos of the morning didn't matter when you were here with him and everything felt so domestic. As he bent down to pick up his shoe, you couldn't help but watch, your heart swelling at the sight of the man you were so in love with, even in his messiest moments. There was something about him, something in that moment, that made him feel so good, as if everything else could wait and the obvious fact that he didn't feel the same way about you didn't matter. Anyone outside the room generally didn't matter. For now, it was just the two of you, tangled in sheets and laughter, clinging to a piece of time that was all yours and would be the only thing you'd have left when he was gone.

“She loves you, that’s why she does it…I guess she wants your attention,” you said, your voice trailing off, and the taste of the words felt sour in your mouth. It sounded too much like you were talking about yourself rather than your pet, and the realization hit you like a cold wave. It made your chest tighten in a way you couldn’t explain, and you immediately wished you could take the words back. But you didn’t.

He glanced at you, a thoughtful expression crossing his features. “I read something about that,” he said, his voice light, but you could tell he didn’t entirely understand the weight behind your words. It didn’t matter. You were used to it by now.

“You read about everything.” You gave him a small, rueful smile, but it didn’t quite reach your eyes, the bitterness of the moment creeping into your voice. You were fine with it, you told yourself. Fine with everything.

He glanced at the clock, a quiet sigh escaping him. “I have to go…it’s late,” he said, and you could hear the quiet resignation in his voice. The moment, it seemed, had reached its inevitable end.

“Okay.” The word slipped out of your mouth more dryly than you intended, and you hated the way it sounded. You didn’t want him to leave. You didn’t want the moment to end. But it was already slipping away, and you knew it. “But before you go…come here.”

He hesitated, looking at you with uncertainty in his eyes. But then, slowly, he took a step toward you, his face softening when you reached out to touch his cheek. The moment your fingers brushed against his skin, he shivered, and your heart skipped a beat at the contact.

“Is…is something wrong?” he asked, his voice softer now, as if sensing the shift between you.

“No, I just want to say goodbye properly.” You shifted closer, your heart hammering as you moved toward him, your lips hovering near his. The temptation to close the distance, to kiss him, burned inside you. But you didn’t. You couldn’t.

“Take care and come back,” you whispered, the words carrying more weight than you meant. You kissed his forehead gently, your fingers instinctively smoothing his hair down as you did. “Now it’s like you have my blessing,” you added with a faint smile.

He smiled at you, the warmth in his expression a bittersweet thing that made your heart ache. “Thank you, and good luck tomorrow with my godchildren’s.” His voice was soft, but the moment was already passing, slipping away, and with it, the space between you both. He gathered his things, gave you one last lingering look, and then turned toward the door.

You stood there, watching him go, the weight of what you didn’t say crashing down on you. The door clicked shut behind him, and you felt a hollow ache in your chest, a longing you couldn’t quite name.

God, you really wanted kissed him.

God, he really wanted you kissed him.

When Spencer opened his eyes for the first time in a cell and felt a sickening jolt of disorientation. The dirty walls and a rickety bench stared back at him, mocking the comforting image of his organized room and, more painfully, the thought of you. The absence of your laughter, your touch, your presence, everything that had once grounded him, hit him like a freight train. He knew something was wrong.

As the days blurred together and the evidence piled against him, he clung to the belief that this nightmare wasn’t real. Every hearing, every damning piece of evidence that chipped away at his freedom, felt surreal. Even when the judge handed down his sentence, condemning him to months behind bars, the finality of it didn’t register. What shattered him was the moment he filled out his visitation schedule and consciously omitted your name. He hadn’t wanted you to see him like that. He didn’t ask anyone to explain, didn’t try to soften the blow of his absence. That, he thought, was the point of no return, the moment he lost everything.

But Spencer was so wrong. The true breaking point came when he walked out of that hellhole, finally free, and climbed the stairs to his apartment. Each step was a physical ache, the pain in his chest sharper and heavier with every step. His hands trembled as he reached for his keys, the jangling sound unnervingly loud in the empty hallway. His gaze fell on your door, just a few steps away. The familiar sight sent his stomach into knots.

For the first time, he wished you wouldn’t be there.

The thought was alien, unnatural. You had always been there, and he had always wanted you there. When he was too drained to cook, you’d suggest their usual coffee spot, your smile lighting up the grayest of mornings. When his back ached from long nights bent over case files, you’d massage his shoulders, insisting scented candles could fix his bad posture and his bad days. When his mother’s health took a downturn, and he felt his world crumbling, you’d hold him, stroke his back, and promise that everything would be okay. And when his social battery was drained at reunions, you’d step in with your bad jokes or your art facts, making the world feel manageable again.

Now, standing in front of his own door, his fingers clumsy with the lock, all he could hope for was silence. He didn’t know how to face you, didn’t know if he could explain the broken pieces of himself.

His door creaked open, and he was greeted by the familiar scent of the home he had only dreamed of for the last while. It was overwhelming: clean clothes, slightly sweet candles, and something undeniably yours. The apartment was exactly as he remembered it, as if time had stopped the moment he left three months ago and never returned until now. His heart shrank as he took it all in: the blanket you insisted on leaving on the couch, the pile of books you always meant to return to his library but never did, his fish swimming around as if nothing had happened, and even the plants by the window, thriving despite his absence because you had surely watered them without fail.

And then there were the little details, things that told him that you had not moved away from this place, from him. The plate you always left for his cup of coffee, the one you gave him last Christmas, was still on the counter. His favorite cardigan, the one he thought he had misplaced, was folded neatly on the back of the chair and smelled of the baby softener you liked to use. His books were exactly where he had left them, although one of them had a bookmark you had made, a telltale sign that he had read it and was waiting for him to come back to comment on it, as you always did.

But he hadn’t returned.

Not then. And maybe not now at all.

Suddenly, the phone in his pocket rang, its shrill tone slicing through the heavy silence like a sharp reminder of reality. The vibration against his skin startled him, his body tensing as he pulled the device out. His gaze flickered down to the screen, and the name that appeared caused a knot to form in his stomach: JJ. His thumb hovered over the screen, his mind racing, unsure if he was ready for the conversation he knew would follow. But deep down, he knew there was no avoiding her. Jennifer wouldn’t let him slip away unnoticed, and if he didn’t answer, she might show up at his door, demanding answers he wasn’t sure he had.

With a resigned sigh, he swiped the screen and lifted the phone to his ear. “Is everything okay?”

The concern in his own voice surprised him. Maybe it was instinct, or maybe he was just desperate to shift the focus away from himself.

“Everything’s fine,” JJ replied, her voice steady but laced with something deeper. “I just wanted to check in. You’ve been…quiet.”

He exhaled slowly, staring out the window, the city lights stretching before him and the memories cutting deep. “Yeah,” he said, his voice low. “Just trying to catch up on things. All good here.”

“Okay,” she said softly, and there was a pause, a hesitation that made his pulse quicken. He could almost hear her thinking, weighing her next words. Then she cleared her throat, the sound small but deliberate. “Have you seen…her?”

The question hit him like a physical blow, stealing the air from his lungs. He turned away from the window abruptly, pacing the length of the apartment as if motion could somehow ease the tension coiling tighter and tighter in his chest. “No,” he said quickly, too quickly. His jaw clenched, the words tumbling out before he could stop them. “I don’t know if I want to.”

The lie tasted bitter on his tongue, and he wasn’t sure if he believed it himself. How could he say that when every thought of you still made his heart ache? When the idea of you haunted him, so vivid and constant it felt like you were in every shadow of his empty apartment?

Jennifer’s sigh crackled over the line, heavy and filled with the weight of unspoken truths. “She’s been asking about you,” she said softly, her voice tinged with that unshakable sadness she tried so hard to hide. “Every time I see her. I think…” She hesitated again, and Spencer could hear her swallow hard, choosing her next words carefully. “I think you owe her an explanation.”

He swallowed saliva and tightened his fingers around the phone. JJ was right, of course. She always had been. But the idea of facing you, of trying to explain everything without drowning in tears, seemed impossible. How could he tell you the truth? How could he look you in the eye and admit that he had spent the last three months in jail, paying for a crime he had not committed? That he had done things that he deeply regretted, that made him sick and a horrible person?

You deserved better. You always had.

You were a blessing to anyone who had you around, and he knew that better than anyone. That's why he recommended you as a babysitter for JJ's kids, that's why he insisted that you come out to the bar with him and the team several times, that's why he told his mother about you, and that's why he gave you unlimited access to every single part of his life and told you things he'd never told anyone else. You were the one he thought of during those long, sleepless nights behind bars when JJ brought drawings from her boys. He imagined you there with them, sitting cross-legged on the floor, helping Henry with his homework or letting Michael pile blocks on your lap. It was silly, and heartbreaking, but the thought of you, of your warmth and your kindness, had kept him going.

“I have to go…clean some things,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, so desperate to run away from the topic.

“Okay,” JJ replied softly, her voice tinged with sadness. “Tell me if you need anything.”

Before Spencer could find the strength to speak, the line fell silent. The hum of the apartment filled the space around him, oppressive in its quiet, and he stood there, phone still clenched in his hand. The weight of it, the weight of everything, settled deeper into his chest, making it hard to breathe. He stared at the counter as if it could offer him some sort of escape from the quiet agony that had overtaken him. With a long exhale, he dropped the phone, his fingers lingering on it for a second longer than necessary, before pulling away with a heavy sense of finality.

Just as he was about to move, his mind already drowning in the whirlpool of thoughts he was so desperate to escape, a soft, muted thud broke the oppressive stillness of the apartment. The noise was faint, almost imperceptible, but in the suffocating quiet, it reverberated like a crack of thunder. His breath caught, his heart skipping a beat as his body went rigid. Slowly, he turned his head toward the source of the sound, his eyes locking onto the open balcony door.

A sleek black shape emerged from the shadows, moving with a practiced elegance that seemed almost ethereal in the dim light. Mittens.

“Hey,” he murmured, his voice breaking on the single syllable, hoarse and unsteady as if even addressing his might shatter the fragile thread of control he was clinging to.

The cat paused for a moment, her head tilting slightly as if considering him, her eyes gleaming in the dim light. Then, without a second thought, she padded over, her steps confident and unhurried, the soft click of her claws against the floor the only sound in the room. She jumped lightly onto the couch, then onto the small table beside him, her movements fluid and practiced. As she reached him, Mittens sniffed his hand delicately, then nuzzled it gently, her warm, soft fur brushing against his fingertips. The familiar rumble of her purring filled the air, a soothing, almost hypnotic sound that cut through the tension and wrapped around him like a blanket.

Spencer let out a shaky breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “I didn’t think I’d see you again,” he whispered, his voice barely audible in the quiet of the apartment. He hesitated, his fingers brushing the soft fur of her head, unable to stop himself from reaching out.

Mittens leaned into his touch, her purr intensifying as her little body pressed against his hand, seeking warmth, some affection. She didn't care about the months she hadn't seen him or just heard his name spoken a thousand times by you. To her, he was still Spencer, the same one who had fed her, played with her, and cared for her whenever he could. That was enough. She was very happy.

“You still remember me,” he murmured, a faint, fragile smile tugging at the corners of his lips. It was the first time he’d smiled in what felt like an eternity.

The cat blinked up at him, her green eyes half-lidded with contentment, as if to say, Of course I do.

For a long moment, he just stood there, his hand resting on her soft fur, letting her purring fill the empty spaces inside him. It was such a small thing, her presence, but it reminded him of you, of the life he’d left behind, and the warmth he hadn’t realized he’d needed so desperately until now.

But the calm didn’t last, and Spencer’s heart nearly stopped when he heard a soft knock on the door. His gaze snapped up from the cat, who was now lazily sprawled across the arm of the couch, her purring uninterrupted. The knock came again, this time paired with a voice that sent a jolt through his chest.

“Mittens?”

The voice was muffled through the door, but he knew it instantly. It was you.

Another knock followed, gentle but insistent. “Are you here, baby?”

He froze, every muscle in his body tightening as he registered the sound of your voice. You were here, in his apartment—or at least on the threshold of it. The thought was both thrilling and terrifying. He wasn’t ready for this. He wasn’t ready to see you again.

The cat, oblivious to the tension that suddenly filled the room, stretched lazily before hopping down from the couch. Her tail flicked behind her as she padded toward the door, her movements casual, as if she belonged here. Her eyes were fixed on you as you stepped through the open door, your figure partially silhouetted by the light from the outside.

“There you are,” you said softly, your voice brimming with relief. The warmth in your tone hit him like a physical blow, and he had to bite down hard on the inside of his cheek to stifle the sound threatening to escape.

You crouched down to scoop the cat into your arms, your movements gentle and practiced. “You scared me,” you murmured, cradling her against your chest. Your voice softened, carrying that familiar tenderness he’d missed so desperately. “You’ve been running off so much lately.”

Spencer pressed himself against the shadowed wall, willing himself to disappear. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move, couldn’t even look at you for fear his body might betray him. The apartment was dark enough to hide him, but he knew the signs of his presence were everywhere. His phone abandoned on the counter, the faint indentation on the couch, the way the air seemed to shift with the weight of him being there.

You didn’t notice. Your focus was entirely on Mittens as you stroked her soft fur, your touch so gentle it made Spencer ache. “I know you miss him,” you murmured, the words falling from your lips so quietly they almost didn’t reach him. “I do too.”

The confession tore through him like a blade, sharp and unrelenting. His chest tightened, and he bit down hard on his lip, tasting the faint metallic tang of blood. Tears burned in his eyes, but he refused to let them fall.

You lingered for a moment, your gaze sweeping over the apartment as if you could feel his presence, even if you didn’t see him. Then, with a soft sigh, you turned back toward the door.

“Let’s go home, baby,” you whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of Mittens’ head before stepping into the night.

The door closed with a quiet click, and Spencer was left alone once more. His knees buckled, and he sank onto the couch, his hand trembling as it pressed against his face. The silence was deafening, a hollow, aching void that swallowed him whole.

Maybe it was for the best. Maybe fate didn’t want you to see him again…at least, not yet.

But then, the next morning, it happened.

You were returning to your apartment, groceries in hand, when you saw him.

He was standing at the end of the hallway with his back to you, as if he was leaving his apartment. As soon as you saw him, your heart skipped a beat and all your rational thoughts vanished. It seemed like an eternity since you had seen him, even though it had only been a few months. Your first instinct was to run to him, throw yourself into his arms, and demand an explanation, but something about his posture made you hesitate. He was stiff, distant, almost sad. His usual warmth was nowhere to be seen. And yet there was something different about him: his long hair, now a bit wilder and more unruly, framed his face in a way you had never seen before. Some curls fell over his eyes, and his beard had grown thicker and darker. The change in his appearance was shocking.

Without thinking, you dropped your groceries at your door and hurried toward him. “Spencer!” you called, your voice trembling with a rush of emotions you had bottled up for months.

He turned slowly, and for a split second, his eyes locked with yours. There was something in his gaze, a flicker of recognition, maybe guilt, but it quickly faded, replaced by a cool distance you had never seen in him before, at least not with you. Before you could stop yourself, you reached out and pulled him into a tight hug. It was instinct, more than anything, to wrap your arms around him like you always used to do. The warmth of his body felt like home, like everything you had missed was right there in your arms. You held on tightly, breathing him in as if this would somehow make up for the absence. You’d been so lonely without him, and this, just holding him again, felt like it would fix everything that has been wrong lately.

But to your surprise, Spencer didn’t move an inch. This time his body was rigid, unyielding, as if he didn’t feel you or want you around. He did not return your hug. He didn’t even seem to acknowledge it or really want it. His arms remained stiff at his sides, and you could feel his breath hitching against your neck, but he didn’t respond. It was like hugging a stranger, someone you once knew but no longer recognized.

“God, I missed you…” You pulled back slightly, looking up at him, trying to gauge his expression, but his face was unreadable. His long hair now brushed against the collar of his shirt, the unruly beard framing his jawline. But his eyes were the only thing that stayed the same, cold and distant, void of the tenderness they once held. “Are you okay?”

He didn’t answer immediately. The silence hung between you, thick and oppressive, before he finally spoke, his voice flat. “Sorry, I…I don’t think I’m the best person for that right now.”

Your heart sank, the warmth of the hug and reunion evaporating into a hollow chill. “What happened?” you whispered, feeling the pain creep into your voice. “Where have you been? Why didn’t you say anything? I was so worried for you and JJ don’t say so much.”

He didn’t smile. He didn’t even look like Spencer, not the one you had known, kind, warm, and always ready to offer comfort. His face was hard, closed off, and distant. He seemed…different, almost cold. “I’m sorry, I needed to get to…work,” he said, his voice clipped and curt. “I didn’t think you’d be awake at this hour.”

You felt a pang of confusion and hurt at his words. “What do you mean? You didn’t want to see me? You haven’t been here in months,” you said, the bitterness creeping into your voice. “You just disappear, and then you show up here, like nothing happened? You sleep here? I came to your apartment last night, and you weren’t there.”

He didn’t react. No apology, no acknowledgment of the pain he’d caused. He just stood there, cold, distant. “I’m sorry,” he said, the words almost sounding like an afterthought. “I had work to do. It’s…complicated.”

“Complicated?” The word tasted bitter on your tongue. “That’s all you’ve got after disappearing for three months?”

Finally, his eyes met yours again, but there was no warmth in them. No tenderness, no familiarity. His gaze was hard, as cold as his words. “I don’t owe you an explanation,” he said sharply, his tone final, cutting through the air like a knife.

It felt like a punch to the gut. The warmth that had once filled your heart whenever Spencer entered a room, the gentle care he had shown you, was now replaced by something colder. It was as if the person you had known, the person who had been your friend, your confidant, had vanished along with the man who used to leave you sweet notes and show up with your favorite food after a rough day.

“You…you don’t owe me anything?” you whispered, your heart breaking with each word.

The silence stretched between you again, suffocating. When he spoke, his voice was quiet, almost hesitant. “I’m sorry.”

But it was hollow, empty. A formality. Not an apology that meant anything.

And then, just as quickly as he had appeared, he turned, walking away. “I have to go,” he said, his voice softer now, but still detached.

Before you could say anything else, he turned, leaving as quickly as he had appeared. And just like that, he was gone again, leaving you alone with the deafening silence and a heart full of questions.

Just like your worst fear: Spencer was avoiding you in the hallway.

[as-sweet-as-a]

Heyyyy I absolutely love love LOVE your work and I saw this thing that @mandarinmoons posted and it said “Spencer Reid is the type of person to bend down and tie your shoelaces and then give you a kiss on the knee once he’s done.” I was wondering if you’d be willing to write something like that

AHHH omg!! tysm!! i hope this meets expectations :]] (also stalked checked out the account you mentioned and fell in love)

strawberry laces - s.r.

summary; you're meeting diana for the first time and literally could not be more nervous contents; reader is a nervous wreck, spencer is the best boyfriend ever, fluff words; 549

You had just finished fixing your hair, finally deciding how to style it after about 97 different options. Spencer drifted past. He paused behind you to put his hands on your shoulders.

“We’re going to be late.” He reminded softy. His hands gently rubbed your shoulders, trying to calm you down. You were meeting his mother for the first time today and Spencer couldn’t tell who was more nervous about it. But, he figured out a while ago that the best way to calm himself down was to help you calm down.

“I know, I’m sorry. Does my hair look alright?” You asked, fiddling with a few strands. Diana knew you existed. Spencer had told her nothing but good things about you. Yet, you were so worried you’d mess it up.

“It looks perfect.” He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, careful not to mess your hair up. When you first did your hair, Spencer made the mistake of saying it was ‘fine’. You’d been spiralling since.

You nodded and stood up. “And my outfit?” It was a casual meeting, Diana would be meeting them with her carer at a coffee shop. However, it was hard to judge ‘casual’ when your boyfriend wore cardigans, ties, and shirts everywhere he went.

“Mhm, really encapsulates the whole meeting my boyfriends diagnosed schizophrenic mom for the first time thing.” He grinned, trying to lighten the mood. It didn’t work.

“Spencer, I’m being serious.” You scolded.

He walked forward and wrapped his arms around you, holding you to him. Your arms came around his back, the sleeves of the cardigan you borrowed far too long. “I know, I’m sorry.” He rested his chin on your head. “You look beautiful.”

“Thanks… I don’t know why I’m so nervous,” You mumbled into his chest.

He nodded and took one of your hands, bringing it over his quick heart. “I am too. But it’s going to be fine, I promise.”

You took a deep breath. You let yourself linger in Spencer’s loose embrace a moment longer before nodding. “Okay… yeah, I’m ready.” With your newfound confidence, you headed to the bedroom door.

“Shoes.” Spencer reminded.

You turned around and walked back to him. “Shoes.”

He was holding the pair of Converse you had laid out and got down on one knee, tapping his leg. You chuckled and put your foot on his thigh as he helped you into your shoe. Your laugh brought a smile to Spencer’s face. He tied the laces in a neat bow and pressed a kiss to your knee. He patted the side of your leg.

“Next one.” As instructed, you swapped which foot you were balancing on Spencer’s thigh. He gave it the same treatment, an even bow and a kiss on your knee. When you were back standing on both feet, Spencer rubbed your legs with his palms soothingly. “It’s going to be fine.” He repeated. You smiled down at him and cupped his face.

He stood up and gave you a quick kiss. “Now, come on. Before she starts wondering where we are.” He smiled and took your hand. You grabbed your bag and headed to the door again.

You glanced down at Spencer’s mismatched socks and grinned. “Shoes, Spence.”

He nodded and turned around. “Shoes.”

[kirschteinsbitch]

More Than Friends

Pairing: Giyuu Tomioka x Fem!Reader Summary: You take your best friend's virginity. Warnings: NSFW MINORS DNI, Modern AU, College AU, friends to lovers, alcohol, eventual smut, blowjob, spitting, unprotected sex, squirting, creampie Word Count: ~8k Author Note: first time posting on here, be nice 😭🙏🏾

Despite your completely opposite personalities, Giyuu had been your closest friend for as long as you could remember. You were a natural extrovert, always surrounded by a lively crowd, while Giyuu preferred the quiet solace of his own company. But no matter how many people clamored for your attention, nothing and no one could ever come between you and Giyuu. You'd sooner let the world fall apart than let that happen.

High school had been a blur of late-night study sessions, stolen laughter, and quiet evenings spent cuddled together on one of your couches. Rumors about your relationship were inevitable—everyone assumed there was something deeper going on between you. But the whispers were usually silenced the moment you publicly introduced your latest boyfriend.

Giyuu never made any comments about your questionable love life. He listened patiently when you vented about breakups and bad dates, never offering judgment or unsolicited advice. And in return, you didn't comment on the fact that Giyuu had never been on a date at all—or shown any interest in changing that.

It wasn't until you were 16, during one of your usual late-night hangouts, that the two of you stumbled into a conversation neither of you had anticipated.

"You know," you began, sprawled across his bed, while he sat at his desk, textbooks and notes scattered around him. "If either of us are still virgins by the time we're 21, let's just lose it to each other."

His pen came to a halt mid-scratch on the page, and he looked up at you with wide eyes. A blush crept up his neck, but he couldn't hide the curiosity in his gaze. "What?"

You propped yourself up on your elbows, meeting his stare with a playful grin. "I'm serious. It's better than hooking up with some random person, isn't it? At least we know each other."

He looked back at his desk, his shoulders stiff. "That's... a crazy thing to promise."

You tilted your head, studying him for a moment before responding. "Why? I trust you."

There was a long pause as he contemplated your words. Then, without looking at you, he muttered, "fine, then."

You'd laughed as you brushed it off as a joke, even though deep down you and Giyuu both knew that it was a promise made in all seriousness.

Still, life moved on, and the pact slipped into the back of your mind. The following year, you ended up losing your virginity to a guy you'd been seeing for a few months.

Obviously, you told Giyuu. Just like you always did. He'd been the first person you confided in about your first kiss, your first period, the first to hear all your secrets and milestones before you even thought about telling your parents.

But this time, his reaction caught you off guard. Normally, Giyuu was calm, indifferent, unshaken by even your most outrageous stories. Yet, as you casually told him the news, he went completely cold. His usually soft features hardened and his responses became clipped and distant, like you'd done something to upset him.

"Are you... mad at me?" you'd asked, half-joking but undeniably uneasy. You couldn't shake the feeling that something was deeply wrong.

"No," he replied flatly, jaw clenched as he avoided your gaze.

"You sure?" You pressed, searching his face for a crack in his armor.

"I'm fine," he said firmly, ending the conversation before it could go any further.

It was the first time you'd seen him so irritated with you, and it made you worry. Giyuu wasn't the type to get openly angry or frustrated—especially not with you.

He wouldn't tell you what was wrong, no matter how much you pushed. And eventually, you stopped trying to get answers. But from that day on, you made a silent vow to yourself: no more rambling to Giyuu about your romantic or sexual ventures. Some things were better left unsaid.

However, Giyuu's curiosity got the better of him one particular time: the night of your high school graduation.

"Why'd you break up with Shinazugawa?" he'd asked, adjusting his tie in the full-length mirror of your room.

You paused, giving him a surprised look through the reflection. “…Why're you asking that now? It’s been months.”

He shrugged, feigning indifference. “Curious, I guess." In truth, he was curious. You and Sanemi had lasted almost six months—longer than any of your previous relationships. He couldn’t help but wonder why you’d ended things when everything seemed to be going so well.

"Well," you sighed, patting your beauty blender against your cheek as you leaned closer to your vanity mirror. "Because of the way he talks about you." you explained, exasperated.

Giyuu blinked, his hands freezing mid-motion as he turned to look at you. "Huh?"

"He's fucking rude," you scoffed, rolling your eyes. "I told him from the start that we couldn’t date unless he was okay with us being friends, and I wholeheartedly meant it. But the second I mentioned you? Instant attitude."

Giyuu's eyebrows furrowed slightly. "What did he say?"

"Doesn't matter," you muttered, waving him off. "The point is, he's a prick I should've never wasted any time with."

For a moment, he just stood there, watching you blend your makeup with practiced ease, your words settling over him like a warm blanket. You hadn't even seemed to think twice about it, choosing him over your boyfriend as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

"...Thank you," he said quietly, his voice so soft you almost missed it.

You glanced at him through the mirror, catching the faint blush that dusted the tips of his ears. "Don't thank me," you replied with a soft smile. "You mean more to me than any of those dumb guys."

Giyuu rolled his eyes, trying to hide the fluttering in his chest as he tightened his tie with an  unnecessary force. "And why do you only go for dumb guys?"

You frowned, picking up a tube of lipgloss. "The real question is why they're the only ones that approach me." Tilting your head, you gazed at him with a wistful look. "I wish they were more like you," you murmured.

You didn't notice the way his hands stilled again, nor the faint flush that crept up his cheeks. He cleared his throat, turning back to the mirror.

"They still wouldn't deserve you," he muttered under his breath, barely audible.

"Hm?" you questioned, raising an eyebrow as you looked over your shoulder.

"Nothing," he said quickly, reaching for his cap and gown spread out on your bed. "We're going to be late."

Smiling, you brushed off his odd behavior, setting down your lipgloss and grabbing your heels. "Fine, let's go."

But even as you walked out the door, Giyuu's thoughts lingered on your words.

I wish they were more like you.

━

The beginning of college brought with it a whirlwind of changes for both you and Giyuu. You attended the same school, so the two of you decided to save money and move into a cozy apartment together.

The apartment was small, but homey enough for the two of you. There was a shared bathroom between the two bedrooms, a cramped kitchen that you somehow made work, and a living room where you would often curl up on the couch after long days of classes or work.

Despite the small space, you quickly slipped into familiar patterns. Giyuu was a morning person, usually up before the sun, while you preferred to sleep in and stay out late. You'd often stumble out of your room in the late morning, finding him already making breakfast or buried in his textbooks.

You would both go about your routines, respecting each other's space, and somehow, it was like nothing had really changed. Giyuu was still the quiet, composed person you knew, and you were still the loud, energetic one.

But there was a subtle shift, a tension that started to build over time. You started to see Giyuu in.. a different way. You couldn't tell if it was because you'd finally stopped suppressing thoughts you'd always had, or if it was because you were watching him grow from a socially awkward teenager into a more gentle, confident adult.

There was an unspoken understanding between you that neither of you addressed directly, but the lines between friendship and something more began to blur the longer you lived together.

Giyuu's 21st birthday arrived with a mix of anticipation and excitement, and it was clear from the start that he didn't want much fuss about it.

You knew him too well by now, his preference for quiet evenings over anything resembling a party. But 21 was a big deal, and you weren't going to let it slip by unnoticed, no matter how much he grumbled about it.

The party was at your apartment, living room adorned with streamers and balloons, the tiny kitchen bursting with treats. You invited only a few of your mutual friends, knowing a crowd would make him squirm.

It was supposed to be low-key, and that's exactly how you pitched it to him. You bought a cake, a couple of cases of his favorite beer, and told him you were keeping it small.

As Giyuu searched through the playlist in the living room, you took the opportunity to slip away and get dressed in your room.

Your fingers fumbled with the delicate zipper of your silk black minidress, the fabric soft against your skin. Lace detailing adorned the bust, and you paired it with dainty gold jewelry.

"Yuu!" you called out, your voice slightly muffled as you struggled to zip up the dress.

An exasperated sigh escaped your lips when it caught halfway. You glanced over your shoulder, seeing your best friend standing in the doorway, a deep flush spread across his cheeks as his eyes roamed over your exposed back.

"Sorry, could you help me zip this up?" you asked, trying to suppress a smile.

"Oh, sure," he murmured, stepping closer to you.

"Thanks," you hummed, turning around and facing your mirror as he stood behind you. His fingers brushed against your skin as he carefully zipped up the dress, the warmth of his touch making you hold your breath for a moment. The silence hung between you two, both of you aware of the closeness.

Once he finished, he stepped back, his eyes lingering on your reflection in the mirror for a second longer than necessary. "You look nice."

You smiled at the compliment, turning to him as your gaze traveled down his outfit. It was simple—an oversized black graphic hoodie paired with dark blue baggy jeans. "So do you," you said, a playful glint in your eyes.

Giyuu ran a hand through his long hair, shyly averting his gaze. "You're leaving it down?" you asked, eyes narrowing as you took in the silkiness of his dark strands.

He shook his head and reached for a hairtie on his wrist. As he raised his arms to tie his hair into a low bun, you caught a glimpse of his toned torso before he turned to leave.

He glanced over his shoulder, the corner of his mouth twitching upward as he rolled his eyes at your playful pout. Opening the fridge, he pulled out a cold can of beer, the can crinkling as he cracked it open.

"Hey, Giyuu," you called, "You remember that deal we made? Junior year?" you asked, slowly making your way into the kitchen.

Giyuu's eyes widened ever so slightly, then he turned to you, masking his surprise with his usual stoic expression. "What deal?"

A sly smirk tugged at your lips as you leaned over the counter, rummaging through one of the kitchen drawers. "The one about our virginities," you added casually, making sure to glance up at him. You could already see the subtle flush creeping up his neck.

"Oh," he mumbled, his voice faltering as he quickly brought the beer can to his lips, taking a long sip to avoid your gaze. "That?"

"That," you echoed, as though it was the most normal thing in the world. You found what you were looking for and closed the drawer with a soft click, then turned to face him fully. "Is it still on?"

Giyuu took a step back, leaning against the counter, his gaze dropping to the floor as he shifted uneasily. You moved closer, feeling the tension between you two building with every inch you closed.

"Do you.. want it to be?" he whispered, his grip tightening around the can.

You nodded silently, your lips curving into a small smile. The air between you seemed to thicken, your presence commanding his full attention. "But, it's your call."

He gulped as you reached behind you, pulling out a shiny tiara—silver with blue gems that sparkled in the light. It glimmered as you placed it gently on his head, reading "BIRTHDAY GIRL".

His breath hitched as his eyes flickered down to meet yours. You could see the internal struggle in the slight tremble of his fingers, but there was a hunger in his eyes, a desire that mirrored your own.

Before Giyuu could respond, the door to your apartment suddenly burst open with an almost comical force.

"Shit— I didn't lock it—" you muttered, but the sentence was cut off by the loud voices of your friends Kyojuro and Tengen. They stormed into the kitchen with enthusiasm, greeting the birthday boy like they hadn't seen him in ages.

"Happy birthday, Tomioka!" Kyojuro exclaimed, his bright smile lighting up the room, while Tengen gave Giyuu a friendly hug.

A group of their friends followed, chatting and laughing, completely oblivious to the tension that had just existed between you two. You sighed, amused but a little frustrated by the timing, casting Giyuu a knowing glance. "Later," you mouthed, the promise clear, before turning your attention to the guests.

For now, whatever was brewing between you and Giyuu would have to wait. The music cranked up a notch, drinks began circulating, and the lively atmosphere of a party took over your apartment.

Parties had never been Giyuu's scene. The idea of being crammed into a hot, noisy space with a bunch of drunk strangers was more torturous than entertaining to him. The thought of anyone willingly signing up for such chaos baffled him.

Which was why, when he did attend a party, the night often ended with you holding his hair back while he dry-heaved over the toilet. It had become an unfortunate tradition, one you were determined to avoid tonight. After all, it was his birthday, and you wanted him to enjoy it.

You kept a subtle eye on him from the kitchen, monitoring his drink count like a hawk. Thankfully, Giyuu was nothing if not responsible, so you weren't too concerned.

Your lips curved into a soft smile as you watched him from across the room. He was standing near Mitsuri and Obanai, his usual reserved demeanor softened as he laughed at one of her jokes. College had done him good, coaxing him out of his shell and introducing him to people who clearly cared about him.

"Having fun?" Tengen's voice broke through your thoughts. He leaned casually against the counter beside you, his broad shoulders brushing yours as he gave you a grin.

"Of course I am," you replied, lifting your cup to your lips. The drink burned as it slid down your throat, a sensation you'd come to appreciate.

"I'm glad," he hummed, reaching for the bottle of Hennessy beside you. His hand brushed your waist as he gently nudged you aside, his touch lingering just long enough to make you uneasy. "I've missed you."

You stepped to the side, swirling the drink in your cup as you kept your gaze low. You knew exactly where this conversation was heading. "I thought we talked about this," you murmured, your tone quiet but firm.

Tengen wasn't one to back down so easily. His fingers found their way under your chin, tilting your head up so you were forced to meet his eyes. "I can't get enough of you," he said softly, his thumb brushing against your cheek in a way that might've once made you falter.

You let out a sigh, glancing briefly toward the living room where Giyuu sat on the couch with Shinobu. His soft smile stirred something in you that had nothing to do with the alcohol. Turning back to Tengen, you said bluntly, "I told you. I have no interest in fucking you anymore."

His hand dropped to his side, though his composure remained intact, as if rejection was a game he'd learned to play long ago. A smirk played at his lips as he leaned casually against the counter, the bottle now in his hand. "You're into Tomioka, aren't you?" he asked, his tone casual.

You rolled your eyes, your patience wearing thin. "What's it to you?"

He tilted his head, his grin widening as if he'd just uncovered a secret. "You could have anyone you want. Why haven't you gone for him all these years?"

Your scoff was sharp as you turned away from him, irritation prickling at your skin. "None of your fucking business," you spat. Before Tengen could press further, you raised your voice, addressing the group. "Y'all down for Charades?"

Mitsuri clapped her hands excitedly. "Let's do teams! Losers take shots!"

Cheers rang throughout the living room, washing away the lingering tension from the kitchen. You slipped away from the conversation, taking a seat on the couch beside Kyojuro, grateful for the shift in energy.

Shinobu moved with precision, pouring shots into an assortment of glasses lined up on the coffee table. "Rules are simple," she declared, her tone almost too sweet to be trusted. "One minute per turn. If your team can't guess, you all drink."

Drunk Charades was a beloved tradition in your friend group, despite you and Giyuu's shared distaste for overindulgence. Somehow, though, it was always fun with this group.

Teams formed quickly: you, Obanai, and Kyojuro on one side, while Giyuu, Mitsuri, and Tengen joined forces on the other. Shinobu naturally declared herself gamemaster, already scribbling prompts down.

Giyuu went first, his cheeks tinged pink as the group chanted "Birthday boy!" when he stood. Shinobu handed him a slip of paper with a sly smile.

His brows furrowed as he read the prompt, glancing at her in clear confusion. She only shrugged, eyes fixed on the timer on her phone. "One minute starts now."

He hesitated, then raised his arms in a wide circle above his head. "Circle? Sun! Clock!" Mitsuri guessed eagerly, practically bouncing off the couch.

Giyuu's frown deepened as he repeated the motion with more emphasis. "It's clearly a halo," Tengen said smugly, giving Mitsuri a teasing glance.

Shinobu shook her head. "You have thirty seconds," she announced smoothly.

With an exasperated sigh, Giyuu dropped his arms and began walking in place, taking slow, exaggerated steps. Realization hit you instantly, but you stayed quiet, secretly enjoying the show.

"Uh... giant?" Tengen tilted his head, increasingly lost.

"Oh! Oh!" Mitsuri gasped, clasping her hands together. "Astronaut!" Giyuu's eyes lit up, nodding vigorously before repeating the large circle motion with renewed desperation.

"Planet? Space?" Tengen guessed again, brows furrowed deeply. He opened his mouth to speak just as the timer buzzed loudly.

"Moon," Shinobu announced with far too much delight. Mitsuri groaned but took her shot without complaint, followed by the rest of her team.

Before anyone could reset, Kyojuro shot to his feet, practically snatching the slip of paper from Shinobu's hand. His eyes scanned the prompt before gleaming with excitement.

"Your minute starts now," she announced, setting the timer with a knowing smirk.

Without hesitation, Kyojuro mimed sweeping your floor, pausing only to wipe imaginary sweat from his brow.

"Sweeping? Maid?" Obanai guessed, one brow arching as he crossed his arms skeptically.

He shook his head fervently, shifting tactics. He twirled in place, pretending to wear a ballgown. The"dance" was so dramatic that even Giyuu let out a quiet chuckle.

"Dress? Princess?" Obanai tried again, clearly reaching.

"Thirty seconds," Shinobu reminded, resting her chin in her hands.

With an exasperated roll of his eyes, Kyojuro dropped to one knee, pretending to slip on a shoe.

"What the fuck," Obanai muttered, utterly baffled.

You couldn't hold back a laugh. "Oh shit—Cinderella!"

"Correct," Shinobu confirmed, stopping the timer. "That one was too easy."

"That was ridiculous," Obanai muttered, but even he couldn't hide his faint amusement.

The game spiraled as the drinks began to take their toll, and the room descended into a blur of laughter, slurred accusations, and a few questionable rule changes. At one point, Tengen insisted that charades could "absolutely allow sound effects," sparking a hilariously heated debate that ended with everyone taking a shot "just because."

Shinobu and Giyuu somehow remained composed, though her smirk suggested she enjoyed the chaos she'd created. Meanwhile, Mitsuri and Kyojuro had surrendered to helpless fits of giggles, practically falling over each other as they struggled through increasingly ridiculous prompts.

The final round ended with Mitsuri acting as a ballerina, her body balanced perfectly as she performed a skilled pirouette, earning a standing ovation. You leaned back, your head resting gently against the couch as the group's laughter echoed through the room. The warmth wrapped around you like a blanket, blending perfectly with the hum of music playing in the background.

Without thinking, your gaze drifted across the room, finding Giyuu. The soft flush on his cheeks from the alcohol gave him an uncharacteristically vulnerable look, but his eyes were steady, their usual calm tinged with something you couldn't quite place.

Slowly, you tore your gaze from Giyuu, shifting your attention to Tengen as he stood, dragging a very unsteady Kyojuro up with him. "I should get this dumbass home," he grunted, looping an arm securely around the blonde's torso to keep him upright.

Obanai gave a curt nod, helping Mitsuri into her coat. "Same here." Turning to Giyuu, he muttered, "Happy birthday."

"Bye, Y/n! Bye, Tomioka!" Mitsuri chirped, her words slurring slightly as she waved enthusiastically, her bright smile as infectious as ever.

Giyuu nodded in acknowledgment, rising to his feet to see them off. Meanwhile, Shinobu had already started tidying up, gathering the shotglasses from the coffee table as you picked up stray papers and empty cans.

"This was really fun, Y/n," she said with a soft smile as she washed the glasses in the sink.

You glanced over with a small grin of your own. "Thanks. I'm glad Giyuu even let me throw him a party."

Giyuu, reentering the room just as you spoke, rolled his eyes. "I heard that."

"Good," you shot back, sticking your tongue out playfully as you balled up a paper towel and tossed it into the trash.

Shinobu giggled at the exchange, slipping into her shoes near the door. "Goodnight, you two," she said warmly before turning to Giyuu. "And happy birthday, Tomioka."

"Thanks," he replied softly, walking her to the door and locking it behind her as she left.

With the apartment now quiet, the stillness hung in the air as Giyuu leaned awkwardly against the wall, his gaze fixed on the floor. It was obvious he was waiting for you to address the unspoken tension between you—whatever the fuck you'd meant when you brought up that deal from junior year.

"Hey, Giyuu," you sighed, bringing a hand up to rub your temple, the weight of your earlier words pressing heavily on your chest.

He straightened slightly at the sound of your voice, his gaze meeting yours as he looked at you.

"I'm sorry if I made things weird by asking you that earlier," you murmured, your voice quieter now. "You probably want to lose your virginity to someone special, and I totally get that. I—" You paused, realizing how much you were rambling. "I shouldn't have brought it up."

Your lips parted to apologize, but the words caught in your throat when you noticed Giyuu had moved. He was in front of you, his tall frame close enough that you had to tilt your head upwards to meet his eyes.

His voice was barely above a whisper as he said, "You are special."

Your heart skipped a beat, and you quickly shook your head, feeling your cheeks heat. "Not like that, Giyuu. I mean—"

Before you could finish, he took a step closer. "I want it to be with you," he interrupted, his voice firm.

The moment the words left his mouth, his eyes widened, shocked by his own confession.

You stared at him, your jaw slack, the weight of his admission rendering you momentarily speechless. "You do?" you finally managed, your voice almost a whisper.

He nodded, and a soft smile curved your lips. Wordlessly, you reached up, your arms draping loosely around his shoulders. His gaze flickered from your eyes to your lips and back again, darkened with need.

"Kiss me, Giyuu," you whispered, and that was all it took. His hands found your waist, gripping you firmly as he pulled you closer. Your lips met in a heated kiss, his eagerness surprising you.

It slightly uncoordinated at first—hesitant movements revealing his lack of experience and the slight haze of alcohol clouding your thoughts. But you quickly took the lead, your fingers tangling in his soft hair as you deepened the kiss, tilting your head to guide him.

As your bodies pressed together, you pushed him gently, steering him backward until his back hit his bedroom door with a soft thud.

You broke the kiss for just a moment, both of you breathing heavily. His arms encircled your waist, holding you close as his eyes searched yours, running his tongue over his lips.

You couldn't stand the distance for long. Your lips met his again, more urgent this time, pouring every unspoken feeling into the kiss. He smiled against your mouth, his lips moving against yours in a way that sent warmth rushing through your entire body.

One of his hands left your waist, fumbling for the door handle. When it finally clicked open, he pulled you both inside, his other hand never letting go of you.

Your heart hammered against your ribcage as the door shut behind you with a quiet click. You couldn't believe what was happening—what you were doing.

You were about to have sex with your lifelong best friend.

The very thought made your head spin. No matter how many times you'd secretly imagined it, you never thought the night would actually come.

Giyuu, meanwhile, was a tangle of emotions. The sensation of your lips against his sent waves of desire coursing through him, but there was also a deep sense of nostalgia.

Because this wasn't the first time your lips had met his.

You probably didn't remember, but Giyuu never forgot. After your senior prom, he'd walked you to your doorstep. You'd gone as friends, and the evening had been fun, uncomplicated—until he parked in front of your house. Before getting out, you'd paused, turned toward him, and thanked him for being such a good friend. Then, you'd leaned over the console and kissed him softly on his lips.

A giddy smile lit your face as you rushed out of his black honda civic, leaving him stunned in the aftermath. You'd never mentioned it again, and neither had he, though he replayed it countless times in his mind. Funny how you had been his first everything.

When he reluctantly pulled away, his eyes remained closed for a moment longer, as if clinging to the warmth of your lips. When he finally opened them, they were half-lidded, adjusting to the soft, dim glow of his room.

Slowly, your hands trailed down his chest, your touch leaving a trail of heat in its wake. You gave him a gentle push, guiding him onto the bed. He sank into the mattress, his eyes glued to you as you swung a leg over to straddle his hips. His breathing grew uneven the moment you settled over his thighs, the feeling of you on top of him making his body tense.

"Giyuu," you murmured, your voice dripping with sultry warmth.

He swallowed hard, his adam's apple bobbing as he met your gaze.

"You really want this?" you asked, tilting your head as your fingers slid into his hair. You tugged the tie loose, letting the strands spill over your hands like silk.

His eyes fluttered shut briefly before reopening, his dark irises locking onto yours with a mix of nervousness and need. "Y/n, just—" He hesitated, searching for the right words. "Just.. keep kissing me. Please."

Without another word, you leaned down, capturing his lips with yours. As you shifted slightly, pressing against his growing erection, he gasped, and you took the opportunity to deepen the kiss, your tongue slipping past his parted lips.

Your fingers tenderly cradled his face, your touch both firm and reassuring. One of his hands gripped your waist, while the other buried itself in your hair, tugging just enough to send a shiver down your spine.

As your hips shifted again, a low, breathy groan escaped him, reverberating through your chest. The sound sent a pulse of heat straight to your core, spurring you on. You let your hands trail down his chest, slipping under his hoodie to explore the hard lines of muscle beneath.

"Take it off," you whispered, sitting up to look down at him. His eyes were dark, lips swollen from your kisses. He moved up slightly, gripping the fabric of his hoodie and pulling it over his head in one swift motion. The pale skin of his chest was exposed, glistening with a light sheen of sweat.

He quickly tossed it elsewhere and returned his hands to your waist, pulling you closer to him. A smile spread across your face at his obedience, admiring the way his chest rose and fell with each shaky breath, your fingers grazing lightly over his skin. Leaning down, you pressed a trail of featherlight kisses along his collarbone, your lips brushing against his skin with a deliberate softness.

His fingertips dug into your sides as he hissed softly, his hips instinctively bucking against you. The friction drew a needy whine from your throat, your breaths coming in quick, shallow bursts. Lifting your head, you murmured, "You can touch me, y'know."

His chest rose and fell rapidly. "I am touching you," he panted, voice strained.

You shook your head, guiding his hands higher up your body until they rested just below your chest. "You can touch me more, Giyuu."

His eyes darkened with hunger as he sat up, pulling you snugly onto his lap, his back pressing against the headboard. His breath ghosted over your skin as his hands wrapped around your breasts, hesitating for only a moment before giving them an experimental squeeze.

"Is this.. okay?" he breathed, thumbs brushing over your hardened nipples through the thin fabric of your dress.

A wave of heat rushed through you, your heart pounding as you nodded. "Yeah." Your hands slid up his arms, steadying yourself. "Want it off?"

He couldn't resist a chance to see more of your body. "Yes," he breathed back.

Giyuu pushed you against him with one hand while the other found the zipper of your dress. He tugged it downwards, revealing the smooth expanse of your bare back. Your fingers gripped the hem of the dress as you pulled it off your body, silently grateful for your decision not to wear a bra.

Giyuu's eyes widened as they raked over your nearly naked form. "Fuck," he muttered, not knowing where to look. You watched him as he studied your body, from the curves of your breasts to the smoothness of your stomach, down to your hips covered only by black lace panties.

He felt like cumming from the sight alone, how the hell would he be able to fuck you?

Your lips met again, bare chests pressed together as your mouths moved in a heated, breathless rhythm. Giyuu's hands slid from your waist to grab at your ass, kneading the soft flesh as you whimpered into the kiss.

Your arms wrapped around his torso, savoring the warmth of his skin as you tilted your head to deepen the kiss. Rolling your hips against his, you felt him shudder. He broke the kiss with a sharp inhale, breath coming in uneven pants.

You pressed soft kisses along his neck, drawing a quiet, needy sound from his throat. Your hand trailed down between you, pressing against his erection, igniting a fire within him that he had never felt before.

As you sucked on a spot on his collarbone, you moved your hand up and down his length, gauging the size of it. Pulling back slightly, you slid off his lap, positioning yourself between his legs. He watched you, chest rising and falling as he tried to steady his breathing. He already missed the warmth of your body pressed against his, but the anticipation of what was coming next had him captivated.

"Can I?" you asked softly, your fingers lingering over the zip of his jeans.

He quickly nodded, making you smirk at his eagerness. His bulge straining against the fabric was impossible to ignore, aching for release under your touch.

With impatient hands, you wasted no time in unzipping his jeans and tugging them down along with his boxers. Your breath caught as his cock was freed, standing proud against his abdomen. For a moment, all you could do was stare, your cheeks warming as you let out a shaky exhale. It was perfect.

You'd been with a lot of guys, but none of them even compared to Giyuu. His skin was soft, tip flushed a delicate pink that contrasted beautifully against the rest of him. The sight alone sent a pulse of heat through you, and you licked your lips, your gaze locked on him.

"Giyuu," you murmured, your hand wrapping firmly around him.

His whole body tensed, a shuddering gasp escaping as he bit down on his lip, trying and failing to muffle the sound.

"Have you ever gotten your dick sucked before?" you asked, your hand moving in a slow, deliberate rhythm along his length.

Giyuu shook his head, tilting it back as a shaky breath escaped him. He'd never been in this position before, especially not with you.

"Good," you smiled, leaning forward, letting a bead of saliva fall from your lips and onto his swollen tip. The sight alone had him whimpering, his hips twitching reflexively. The moisture slicked your hand, making every stroke smoother as you worked him over.

Then, you took him into your mouth, lips wrapping around his cock. Giyuu's reaction was immediate, a low, guttural groan tearing from his throat as his head fell back against the headboard. "Fuck—" he choked out, his hands gripping the sheets tightly.

You hollowed your cheeks, taking him deeper, and his hips bucked involuntarily. The sudden thrust made you gag, and you pulled back, coughing slightly.

Giyuu's eyes shot open in panic. "Shit- I'm so sorry," he blurted out, I didn't m-"

"Shh," you hushed, placing a calming hand on his thigh. "It's okay," you reassured, your voice soft and steady. Your other hand resumed its slow, deliberate strokes, eyes locked on his. "You can hold me if that helps."

He hesitated for a moment before lifting a hand, fingers trembling slightly as they cupped your face. His thumb brushed a stray strand of hair from your eyes. You leaned into his palm briefly before lowering yourself again, your mouth returning to his dick.

You teased him, swirling your tongue around his sensitive head, savoring the soft, broken moans that spilled from his lips. His hand slid into your hair, not pushing, but simply holding on as if you were his lifeline.

"Y/n," he gasped, his voice strained and breathless. "I'm gonna—fuck—" His breaths came faster, his body trembling as he teetered on the edge. His cock twitched in your mouth, but just as he was about to lose control, you stopped, lifting your head up.

Giyuu let out a strangled groan, his chest heaving as he tried to steady his breathing. One hand dragged over his flushed face while the other remained fisted in the sheets.

"Sorry, Yuu," you cooed sweetly, crawling back onto his lap. Your hands cupped his flushed cheeks, guiding his gaze to yours. His wide, dazed eyes met your own, filled with unspoken desire. "I want us to cum together," you murmured, slowly pressing your lips to his.

He moaned into the kiss, the taste of himself mixing with your saliva as you tilted his head how you pleased. His hands roamed your back, tracing slow, deliberate paths along your skin. One hand slid lower, hooking into the waistband of your panties and tugging them down your legs.

You lifted slightly to let him pull them off entirely, tossing them aside. Together, you worked to rid him of the last of his clothing, his pants and underwear joining the growing pile on the floor. Now, with nothing between you, the heat of his body melded with yours.

You pressed your core against him, your wet folds sliding over his cock. A gasp escaped your lips as you began to roll your hips, his length gliding between your slickness, the head brushing your clit with each pass. Giyuu tilted his head back, nails digging into your hip as you continued your slow movements.

"D-don't we need a condom?" he stammered out, his voice shaky as his hands held you still.

"I'm on the pill," you assured, meeting Giyuu's gaze as he opened his eyes. "Plus, it feels better this way," you added.

Giyuu gulped, his Adam's apple bobbing at your words. "You trust me?" you asked softly, tilting your head as your lips brushed his.

"Of course," he replied without hesitation.

You hummed, your hand trailing down his body, fingers brushing over heated skin until they reached his straining cock. His breath hitched as you positioned yourself above him, guiding his tip to your slick entrance. "I'll go slow" you murmured, sinking down onto him.

Giyuu whimpered your name, his head falling back against the headboard, lips parted in a breathless moan. His grip on you tightened as his hips trembled beneath yours. You felt so good—too good—and he could barely think past the haze of lust clouding his mind.

"Fuck," you cursed, nails digging into his shoulders when he filled you completely, stretching you in a way that left you gasping. You dropped your head into the crook of his neck, overwhelmed by the sensation.

Slowly, you moved your hips up and down, Giyuu's soft moans spurring you on. There was the slight sting of feeling stretched at every movement, but the pain was almost welcomed.

His nails dug into the flesh of your ass, guiding you gently as you moved. When his tip grazed that perfect spot deep inside, a breathless moan escaped you, and your hips rolled instinctively, seeking more of that intoxicating pressure.

You sat up slightly, half-lidded eyes meeting his as you leaned in for a slow, lingering kiss. His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer as his hips bucked up to meet your rhythm. His tongue tangled with yours, the kiss growing deeper, more desperate.

A low hum of pleasure vibrated against his mouth as your arms snaked around his shoulders, pressing yourself against him as you continued to move back and forth on his lap.

Breaking from the kiss, Giyuu trailed wet, open-mouthed kisses down your jaw and neck, his breath hot against your skin. "Don't stop.. feels... so good," he choked out between breaths.

You whimpered, tilting your head back to give him better access as your legs locked around his waist. The pleasure was electric, each deep thrust sending bursts of stars behind your closed eyelids.

Giyuu's lips trailed lower, wrapping around your nipple as he sucked gently, drawing a sharp cry from your lips. Instinctively, you began to bounce harder on him, fingers tangling in his dark hair. He groaned, eyebrows knitting together as his tongue flicked over your sensitive bud, his nails pressing deeper into your skin.

Your legs began to tremble, overwhelmed by the increasing pleasure. Giyuu panted, guiding your hips as he rolled his own upward, grinding into you with deep, deliberate strokes. A desperate moan escaped both of your lips, and you couldn't help but cling closer to him, your grip tightening in his hair.

"Fuck," he moaned quietly, his glossy, dark eyes looking up at you in admiration and need. "Can I move?"

"Please," you whined.

Giyuu lifted you effortlessly, turning you over and laying you gently onto the soft mattress. His hands caressed your thighs as he hovered above you, his heated gaze tracing every curve of your body.

Using one arm to prop himself up, his hair fell like a curtain around you. "This okay?" he asked, running his tip between your folds to find your entrance once more.

"More than," you breathed, relaxing under his warm sheets and soft breaths.

You kept your gaze locked with each other's as he pushed himself inside, drawing a soft gasp from your lips. His eyes were lidded, pupils blown and cheeks flushed as a shaky breath escaped him, savoring the way your body held him so perfectly. You were so wet that he slid in with ease, allowing him to pull out before sliding back in.

For the first time, Giyuu understood why people craved this kind of intimacy. He'd never felt anything this good in his life. His lips found yours in a languid kiss, moving in sync with his gentle thrusts. Warmth bloomed in his chest, though he couldn't tell if it was from the physical pleasure or because it was you beneath him.

Despite it being his first time, every slow, deliberate thrust found your sweet spot, making you arch into him, fingers digging into his back. He groaned into your mouth, his hips stuttering against yours.

You hiked your legs higher up his torso, feeling him deeper inside you. Pulling away just enough to catch his breath, he buried his face in the crook of your neck, his warm breath fanning over your skin as he whispered breathless praises.

"Oh, fuck- Giyuu-" you moaned, your back arching in pleasure as he continued to thrust into you with increasing speed. Your nails dug into his skin, scraping red trails down his back as a wet, squelching noise resonated from where your bodies were connected.

With one well-placed thrust, your release hit you like a wave, body trembling as he fucked you through your orgasm. Giyuu lifted his head to watch you in awe as you twitched and writhed beneath him.

You gasped, eyes rolling back in ecstasy as you felt his fingers against your clit, messily toying with the bundle of nerves. You panted and rolled your hips up against him, unable to hold back any longer as you squirted onto his hand and abdomen.

Giyuu's eyes shot open, feeling your slick warmth coating his skin, and before he knew it, he was cumming as well, his seed spurting out within your walls. He let out a whiny, cracked moan, his head dipping into your neck as he thrusted lazily inside you.

When he finished, he slowly pulled out, watching with wide pupils as his and your cum dripped from your quivering entrance. Panting, he laid down beside you, arms wrapping around your waist and pulling you close against his warm chest. "Thank you," he whispered, pressing a kiss to your forehead before burying his face in the top of your head.

"Don't thank me," you hummed softly, closing your eyes as you leaned closer to him. "I loved it."

You and Giyuu weren't dating—weren't in love. (At least, not openly.) Yet somehow, what had just happened between you was far from casual. No matter how many excuses you tried to make, friends don't make love to each other.

After a few moments of shared silence, catching your breath and grounding yourself, you sat up. A soft yawn escaped your lips as you stretched your arms over your head before slipping out of bed.

Reaching down, you grabbed your panties from the floor, pulling them back on as you made your way to Giyuu's dresser. The sound of shifting sheets caught your attention, and when you turned, you found him sitting up, brows drawn together in concern. "Aren't you staying?"

A warm smile spread across your lips as you pulled one of his t-shirts from the drawer and slipped it over your head. "Of course I am," you reassured him gently. "I'm just going to the bathroom."

True to your word, you returned a moment later to find him still in bed. He had pulled on his boxers but was otherwise the same—his eyes following your every move, lingering briefly on the faint red crescent marks now visible on your ass. His gaze flickered up to meet yours, his expression unreadable.

Climbing back into bed, you settled yourself on his lap, straddling him as his hands instinctively found your hips. "Giyuu," you started softly, your voice tinged with uncertainty, "is this.. a one-time thing?"

His lips pressed into a slight frown, and his brows furrowed as he considered your words. For a moment, his eyes flickered with an emotion you couldn't quite name—Worry? Hope? Fear? "Do you want it to be?" he asked cautiously, his voice low and hesitant.

You shook your head, your voice steady but shy as you answered, "No."

His surprise deepened, blue eyes searching yours for confirmation. Nervously, you lowered your gaze to his chest, tracing aimless patterns with your fingertips. "I've liked you for a while, Giyuu," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

He froze beneath you. "What?"

"Years," you confessed, forcing yourself to look up and meet his wide-eyed stare. "I've always known you weren't just a friend to me, but I didn't want to risk ruining what we had." You paused, swallowing hard. "But what we just did... friends don't do that."

His lips parted as though to speak, but no words came out. Instead, his hands cupped your cheeks, tilting your face up to his as he leaned in. The kiss was tender, a quiet answer to your unspoken fears.

He shifted, rolling you beneath him, lips trailing a path from your mouth to your jawline, and down the curve of your neck, stopping just above the collar of his t-shirt.

When his gaze met yours again, the genuine smile lighting up his face made your heart flutter. His fingers laced with yours, while your other hand rested on his back, tracing the faint lines of the scratches you'd left there.

"I don't want this to be a one-time thing either," he said softly, his voice carrying a rare but unmistakable confidence. "I want to be yours... and for you to be mine."

A grin spread across your face at his words, and you tugged him down for another kiss, your heart hammering.

"Mhm," you hummed against his lips, "I'm yours, Giyuu."

━

Giyuu frowned deeply when he woke up to an empty bed, the lingering warmth on your side already faded.

His mind spiraled instantly. Did you regret last night? He gnawed on his lower lip, his chest tightening at the thought.

Turning onto his back, he exhaled slowly, staring at the ceiling. A grim scenario played out in his head—you'd be in the living room, already packing your things, deciding that sleeping together had been a mistake, that living together wasn't a good idea after all.

Running a hand down his face, he squeezed his eyes shut, willing the thought away. He was about to roll over and bury himself back under the sheets when a loud thud echoed from the kitchen.

He bolted upright, hastily pulling on a pair of sweatpants before heading toward the noise.

His eyebrows lifted in surprise as he found you crouched on the kitchen floor, a conflicted expression on your face while you picked up a fallen pancake griddle.

Your eyes widened when you noticed him standing in the doorway, heat rushing to your cheeks. "Oh... good morning, Giyuu," you mumbled shyly, glancing away.

He surveyed the scene, spotting the stool you must've used to reach the high shelf. Realization dawned on him. "What are you doing?" he asked, tilting his head.

You sighed, placing the griddle on the counter, still avoiding his gaze. "I wanted to make us breakfast..." you murmured, your tone a bit sheepish.

Giyuu exhaled a quiet laugh, the corners of his lips lifting into a fond smile. "You don't have to do that. We both know you can't cook." He teased, walking towards you.

"Screw you." You scoffed, crossing your arms with a frown. "I wanted to do something nice for you."

"You already have," he said softly, stepping closer. He gently took your wrist, turning you toward him. "How about I take you out? To thank you for everything."

Your eyes met his, getting lost in the warmth of his azure gaze before they flicked downward, landing on the faint bruises blooming on his neck—bruises you had left.

"Fine," you relented, leaning in just a bit. "But I'm paying."

Giyuu chuckled, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you into his embrace. "Like hell you are," he whispered, his lips brushing your temple. "You've done enough." He motioned around the room, where last night's decorations still hung throughout the apartment.

You smiled, your arms sliding around his bare waist as you rested your head against his chest. "I guess I can let you handle our first date."

He smirked down at you, pretty blue eyes twinkling with adoration. "Good," he murmured, capturing your lips in a sweet kiss.

Support me on Wattpad if you enjoyed it! I write fics there @/ilovehistor1a

[rosielovesf1]

spilling secrets on stream | LN4

what better place to hard launch a relationship than twitch?

word count: 1.3k

warnings: none!

author's note: it's been so fun thinking up little story ideas and this is the product of one of them. fair warning that it's been forever since i've played fortnite so probably not very accurate when it comes to that 🤦‍♀️ thank youuu for reading and have a great day!!

also my requests are open if you would like to see a certain story/driver!! 🫶

“Hi guys, sorry I’m late,” Lando said, adjusting his headphones as he started the stream. There were a surprising number of people online for this Thursday afternoon, but he had posted on his story that Max would be joining him, so that could explain the popularity. Not that he would ever tell him that. 

“Max is joining now.” He stretched his arms over his head, smirking when the chat quickly noticed the sliver of skin he’d exposed in the simple motion. Oops. “Is Max with you right now? No, chat, I’m in Monaco. How’s offseason? It’s good. I’ve been doing a whole lot of nothing.” 

Lando read through and answered a couple more questions until Max’s face popped up on his screen. 

“Hello hello,” Max said, waving to the camera. “How are we, chat? What are we playing?” 

After a couple minutes of debate, they decided on Fortnite. The first round was short lived- Lando got shot pretty much immediately. Now, him and Max were two of ten players remaining, but the sound of the front door opening caused him to turn his focus away from the game. 

“y/n?” Lando called out after muting himself, turning away from the screen to see if his girlfriend had just arrived home. 

“Bro, what are you doing?” Max protested, his character running circles around Lando’s still one. Two other characters spotted them over a nearby hill and started firing immediately, with Max left alone to defend them. “You muppet!” Within seconds, Lando had died, and Max didn’t have enough time to resuscitate him in the midst of defending himself. 

“My bad.” Lando turned back to the screen, laughing at Max’s distress. 

“That was entirely your fault.” Max responded, pausing to look at his phone alert from Lando. 

I think y/n just got back and she doesn’t know I’m on stream. Can you stay on until I get back? 

Even though Lando and his girlfriend were practically living together at this point, staying at each other’s homes almost every night during the offseason, they were yet to make it official in the eyes of the public. Max knew this better than everyone- often having to cover for the couple when they weren’t cautious enough- and smirked as he typed back a yes. Lando took that as a sign to communicate his exit. “Be right back, chat. Don’t be too mean to Max while I’m gone.” 

He opened and shut the door to the room behind him, padding down the soft carpet runner of the hallway. “y/n?” Her bright pink trainers were by the front door, and seeing as he could hear the shower down the hall, she must’ve just come back from a run. 

All of a sudden, music started blasting- a Doja Cat song, Lando knew from y/n's time on the aux whenever they were in the car together. 

“y/n,” Lando laughed, knocking on the bathroom door, “I’m on stream darling.” It wasn’t that he minded the noise, or that the chat would know very quickly that there was a girl in his house (he wasn’t really the Doja Cat type). If it were up to him, he would’ve posted y/n the day they had made it official, four months ago. But they’d decided to wait a bit and enjoy the privacy. 

No response still. He tried the bathroom door handle but it was locked. She must’ve not known he was coming home, Lando thought cheekily to himself. Otherwise, it would’ve been open. He gave up and retreated back to the room with his setup, shooting a quick text over to y/n that he was home. 

Lando settled back into his chair, turning the camera on. “Alright, chat, I’m back. Sorry to leave you with Max.” 

Max raised an eyebrow at the music that filtered in through Lando’s mic, choosing not to comment on it. The chat wasn’t as sly though, with every other comment questioning the source. 

“Didn’t know Lando was a Doja Cat fan. I’m not.” The ambiguous comment sparked even more questions, and Lando just shook his head jokingly as they started another game. As he died for a third time, Max cursing and threatening to find someone better to play with, the music cut and the distant sound of the shower running stopped. 

“Lando?” y/n called out, freezing as she read over his text in the hallway. Lando’s eyes widened and he quickly muted himself, sliding his headphones off. As he stood up he heard y/n's footsteps nearing the door and managed to shut the camera off just in time. 

Lando pulled open the door and the scent of coconut and hibiscus floated in. y/n looked up at him with wide eyes in sweatpants and a stolen Quadrant t-shirt, her hair still wet from the shower. 

“I’m sorry! I didn’t realize that you were streaming.” She peeked over his shoulder and her eyes widened at the rapidly scrolling chat, the viewers going crazy about the distinctly female voice they’d overheard. Max had given up at pretending to ignore them and had shut off his camera as well, only adding to the viewers assumptions. 

He pulled her into a hug, mumbling “You smell good.” into her hair as a way of greeting. She wrapped her arms around his waist and squeezed tightly, rocking back and forth. 

“Did they hear me?” 

“Yeah.” They shuffled over to the computer together, her almost afraid to read the chat that was still scrolling at a million miles a minute. Lando read out one comment that said “can Lando’s girlfriend fight?” and raised a questioning eyebrow at the girl next to him. 

“Heck yeah. Look at these muscles. Try me.” She bounced back and forth on her heels, hands up in a boxing stance.

Lando laughed at her, locking her in a headlock that she quickly wiggled out of. “Not fair,” she whined. “Caught me by surprise.” 

He pulled her in front of him to straighten out the locks of hair he’d mussed, and kissed her forehead before looking down at her. “What if we told them about us right now?” 

“You think?” She worried her bottom lip between her teeth, and he ran a gentle thumb over it to get her to stop. 

“I think they’re going to love you as much as I do.” She leaned into him at that statement, and he watched her eyes as she seemed to process his statement. 

“Alright,” she still looked hesitant, but brightened up as she opened her mouth to speak again. “I’m already wearing the right shirt and everything.” 

“Quadrants #1 fan.” He smiled, pulling her over to the computer. They split the chair so that both of them could sit, and she draped her legs comfortably over his. He rested one hand on her thigh, using the other to restart the stream. “Ready?” 

She nodded, and all of a sudden they were back online. 

“Hi, chat.” Lando smiled, laughing as the comments started pouring in. “I’ve been meaning to introduce you to someone. This is my girlfriend, y/n.” 

“Hi, everyone,” y/n said, sporting a smile to match her boyfriend’s. “How are you doing?” 

“Finally.” Max let out a sigh, clicking his camera back on. 

“Thanks for covering for us, Max.” The trio sat and talked for a little bit, y/n answering questions for her from the chat that Lando pointed out every once in a while. They eventually turned the game back on, y/n holding her own and often outranking Max and Lando. In the midst of waiting for a new game to load, Lando wrapped an arm around her waist, squeezing her side. 

“I’m so glad I get to show you off now.”

@landonorris: kiss me more 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨

@y/nl/n: cat’s out of the bag 🤭

[na0koz]

jinx getting jealous and makin u pay for it :P

nsfw!!! MDNI. cw: blood, knives, kinda dubcon i guess?, strap use

anon request! wouldn’t let me respond to it in a post. this is my first time writing proper smut sorry if it’s bad

toxic!jinx masterlist

today was one of the few days you weren’t planning on hanging out with jinx, but obviously you ended up doing just that. jinx was just checking up on you, watching you work from the very back corner of the cute little coffee shop you were studying in (sometimes she is baffled by the fact that you have never ever noticed her stalking you. she is in plain sight half the time) when someone from your class comes in and approaches you at your table.

you smile up at them, moving your bag so they can sit opposite you and the two of you start chatting. several minutes go by, your studies long forgotten as you get to know your classmate, someone who you hadn’t really spoken to much before. jinx on the other hand, hasn’t moved a muscle and has barely even blinked as she watches the interaction unfold before her, eyes flickering between the two of you before noticing your classmate pulling their phone out.

jinx damn near gets up out of her seat when she sees you take their phone and type what jinx assumes was your phone number. she finally moves, though only to start bouncing her leg up and down, waiting for an opportunity to question you. she’s bitten her lip so hard that it bleeds.

after what feels like an eternity, your classmate leaves. jinx already knows their name and perhaps even their address after somehow finding a list of everyone in your class and researching each of them. they will face their punishment in due course. as soon as the door closes behind them, jinx is up and stomping towards your table.

the sudden movement opposite you as she sits down causes you to look up again from your laptop and you exclaim upon seeing her. “oh! hey jinx.”

jinx doesn’t say anything in return, just licks the remaining half-dried blood from her lip.

“who was that?” she questions, leaning on her forearms over the table. she sounds annoyed, and you really really hope she isn’t as angry as she sounds.

“someone from my class. they just wanted to borrow some notes they had missed,” you explain as you gather your stuff up and put it in your bag. you know she’s gonna make you leave with her so you might as well prepare.

“hm. whatever, let’s go.”

you follow jinx out of the shop and she grabs your arm to pull you along beside her while she thinks of the quickest route back to either of your houses.

you end up at her house, the door locked behind you as you push your shoes off. jinx tugs your bag off your shoulder for you, dropping it to the floor with a thud before leading you to her room.

she starts yanking off your jacket, your clothes and finally your underwear. she sheds a couple of her own layers, but pauses when she’s just in her underwear and a tight cropped tank top. you can’t say you’re not turned on, and you brace yourself for the teasing that will likely follow when jinx forces your legs open.

in the time you imagine how she’s going to chide you for how wet you’re getting over literally nothing, she’s managed to get her strap on and pulls you onto your stomach, bending your knees for you so you’re face down, ass up on her bed. she continues wordlessly as she begins tying a turquoise rope around your wrists behind your back.

jinx lines up her dick with your already dripping hole and pushes in, making you whine into the mattress. still without a word, she starts fucking you, and hard.

you quickly build up to your orgasm, chanting jinx’s name like a prayer begging her to let you cum.

she replies with a simple “go on.” and you cum hard on her dick, a few tears escaping your eyes and soaking the sheets below.

tonight, it’s her goal to make sure you know she’s the only one who can give you what she can, as well as she can.

jinx coaxes a few more orgasms from you with her strap before she decides to opt for a new method to make you feel so good you cry.

she pulls your fucked out body into her lap and drags your arms behind her head so they looped around her neck, still bound together by the blue rope. she kicks her legs under yours to force them open and keep them that way. then, she shoves two of her fingers into your mouth.

instinctively, you start to suck, tongue curling around her slender fingers.

“mhm, that’s it. good girl.” jinx muses as she watches your lips puckering around her digits. it surprises you how much she can change when she’s fucking you, becoming dark and dominant over you.

she pulls her now wet fingers out of your mouth with a pop and traces them down the valley of your chest, along your stomach down to your pussy. she teases your clit and your puffy folds for a second before plunging her fingers into your sensitive hole. you cry out and squeeze your eyes shut, failing to notice jinx reaching behind her as she grasps for her assault knife. the one with the hot pink and turquoise handle she made herself.

as she curls her fingers inside of you, she gently prods your inner thigh with the knife and you twitch at the sudden pain. you open your eyes and look up at her, not being able to restrain the whimpers coming from your throat as jinx continues fingering you with her knife still poking you, threatening to pierce your skin.

“ji-… hurts..” you can barely get a word out from how tight the coil inside of you is.

she’s not letting you reach your orgasm on purpose. you hear her giggle at your whining through the haze of your pleasure.

“you gonna cum?” she sings at you. she’s just teasing your for her own pleasure now. freak.

“please…jinx. wanna cum so bad..” you plead with her.

“y’know no one else can make you cum like this, baby. no one else can do what i do.” she begins to drag the knife up to the space between your tits.

jinx doesn’t feel like drawing any blood from you today, but she doesn’t need to tell you that right now. she just needs to make you know that you’re hers. she owns you and she needs to punish you for making her jealous.

“tell me i’m the only one who can make you cum.” she presses down with the blade, hearing you moan even louder. she’s changed her mind now. she pulls the knife down a little, drops of blood blooming on your chest.

you’re writhing in her grip now. you’re so so close to cumming but she just won’t let you.

“go on. tell me.” jinx says bluntly before dipping her head down to lick the blood off you.

“yo-..! you’re the only one jinx! the only one who can make me cum! please- please let me..” you cry as your sentence dies on your tongue, brows furrowed and eyes shut.

she hums. “see, baby? wasn’t so hard.” she puts the knife down and finally fucking you just that little bit harder.

the band in your belly snaps and you cum so hard you see stars. your hot juices spurt out of your convulsing hole over jinx’s palm and her bedsheets. she licks the tears from your cheeks and strokes your hair with her free hand.

you relax against her, breathing heavily as she wipes the small wound she made with a cloth she had on her nightstand. she lets you calm down a little more before cleaning up your soaked pussy.

you think it’s probably best to ignore any texts from your classmate, and pretend you typed your number wrong. for their sake, not yours.