#I want to chew on his cheeks...The face ones

[yasministration]

want you to stay - peter parker

summary: peter is absolutely appalled when he sees you beginning to leave the party when his frat brother yells "if you're not a brother or fucking a brother, get out!" wc: 2.1k+ a/n: new au :))

It was getting late.

Not in the sense that you were tired, but you’d had your fun with your friends, all of whom were ready to leave, and the one person you were here to see kept on disappearing from your sight. You didn’t want to follow Peter around like a clingy situationship, so you focused on making the most of the party with the friends you had come with. But the boy dipped in and out of the house, switching between wrecking havoc with his friends and finding you inside.

Peter had stolen you away from your friends for a dance, pressing you up against him and moving his hips with yours. You had felt his smile against the skin of your neck, pressing the occasional kiss as you sang along to lyrics of the deafening music playing. You had spun in Peter’s hold, slinging your arms over his shoulders. Peter had leaned his head down, his nose brushing against yours, lips hovering over yours. Your breath had hitched then, and Peter had smiled widely, chuckling at your reaction, as though you’d never kissed before.

“Give me a kiss.” He had whispered, and you didn’t know how you heard him over all the noise in the house. Perhaps you had just read his lips and hoped he had said what you wanted to hear. But you pushed yourself up on your toes anyway and kissed him anyway. Peter’s hands came up to cup your cheeks, and just as you pulled tilted your head to deepen the passionate kiss, he had jumped away from you.

Blinking quickly, you took in the sight of one of Peter’s frat brothers, tightly clutching Peter’s shoulders. You hadn’t heard what he had said, but Peter had ducked his face down shyly, a hand trailing down to your waist as his friend continued speaking loudly to him. Peter tugged you closer to him, telling you “I’ll be back!” But he never returned.

Now, you were huddled with your friends in a corner, discussing the plans to return to one of your dorms and debrief the night. Luckily though, you didn’t have to discuss the situation any further, because suddenly, the music cut out and someone clambered on to a coffee table.

“Everybody listen up! If you’re not a brother, or fucking a brother, GET OUT!”

Your friends scoffed, and you could nearly hear the roll of their eyes. “Let’s go.” You told them, nodding towards the door. You took the hand offered to you, following the crowd out of the house. But as you approached the door, a hand curled around the wrist of your free arm, softly pulling to attract your attention.

Peter stood in the midst of the crowd, a confused look on his face. You felt your friends’s eyes on the two of you, exchanging glances behind your back. “Hey, where are you going?” Peter’s smile didn’t quite reach his eyes, the confusion clear on his face. Clearing your throat, you felt your face heat up at his question. Shrugging, you said “I don’t, we were just-“

“Didn’t you hear what he said?”

“I did, yeah. I just, I didn’t…”

Peter shifted his weight from one foot to the other, removing his hand from around your wrist. He swallowed thickly, throat bobbing. “You don’t want to stay?” Your eyes widened as you realised what this looked like; you escaping his party with your friends and averting all his questions.

“No, I-I mean, do you want me to stay?” You hated yourself for how small you sounded — how you were clearly seeking his approval. Peter smiled, nodding assuredly. “Yeah, I do. I want you to stay.” It was impossible for you not to smile at his words, or to feel insecure anymore. Chewing on your bottle lip, you turned over to face your friends, all of whom were expectantly looking at you.

“Okay, have fun.” One of them said, leading the others outside and ditching you with your… Peter. “Come here.” He mumbled, extending an arm towards you. You pushed past the bodies around you until you were close enough for Peter to wrap a muscular arm around your shoulders. He led you towards the emptying living room, keeping his gaze on you. Peter paused in the hallway, looking past you and towards his frat brothers lounged on the couches.

“Do you want to come up to my room? Or stay down here a little?” Wrapping an arm around Peter’s waist, you followed his gaze, eyes widening as the men in the living room broke into another fit of loud laughter. “Can we go to your room?”

“Yeah, of course baby.” You felt your face heat up at the pet name, letting Peter guide you up the set of familiar stairs. His hands lingered on your waist until the door to his room was shut.

“Thank you for letting me stay.” You said, voice quiet as you sat down in Peter’s bed. Peter followed you, standing in front of you. He cupped your cheek, leaning down to press a soft kiss to the top of your head. “I wouldn’t want you anywhere else.” You attempted to bow your head down to avoid his gaze, but Peter’s hand was slipping to your chin and pushing your head up. When your eyes met his, he smiled, and you couldn’t help the way your lips tugged upwards in response.

“Do you want to take off your makeup? Matt’s girlfriend basically lives here, so he should have some wipes or something.”

“I don’t want to be a bother.” Peter’s hand dropped from your face and he scoffed disapprovingly, instantly turning around and walking out of the room. He left the door wide open behind him, so you saw as he trotted down the stairs, his shoes padding loudly on the wooden floor. You tapped your fingers on the fabric of your skirt, knee beginning to bounce nervously. When Peter returned up the stairs, he was accompanied by someone – tall with a head of thick black hair. He wore a navy blue polo shirt, and guided Peter into the room directly facing the one you were sat in. Matt lingered in the doorway of his bedroom when Peter returned to his own room, carrying a bottle of micellar water and cotton pads.

Matt caught your eye, putting a hand up and waving animatedly. “Hi y/n.” He said, drawing your name out in a sing song voice. “Hi Matt.” Unlike the other frat brothers, you were a little familiar with Matt, who had met you the very first time you’d entered this house. It was against your free will that you had met, but retrospectively, you were thankful for the familiar face. Peter twisted his torso, frowning at his housemate, who travelled across the hallway in a few steps, leaning against the doorway of Peter’s room. “So…” He started, waggling his eyebrows as he nodded towards Peter.

“Matt, go away, she doesn’t feel like talking to anyone.”

“No, that makes me sound so rude, Peter!”

“No, it’s alright, we get it. We’ll all be here tomorrow morning anyway, if you want to meet the others. Or not the others, just Meg. She really wants to meet you.”

“Yeah, okay. I’ll be sure to say hi to Megan if I see her.”

“Oh, she’ll make sure you see her tomorrow.”

“Okay, Matt. That’s enough.” Matt rolled his eyes, slapping a hand on the top of the doorway before walking down the stairs. Peter closed the door gently, moving to sit next to you on the bed. “Is this okay?” He asked, presenting you the items in his hands. “It’s more than okay, Pete. Thank you.”

Peter watched silently as you rubbed the cotton pad across your face, makeup smearing on your face. He leaned forward, dragging the trash can from under his bedside table towards you. You dropped the used cotton pads in the bin, running a hand across your face when it was finally clean. It felt odd for some reason – being so domestic with Peter when you were usually in and out of his room after a hook up, or a date that had never been labeled as one. Standing up slowly, you wobbled on your feet, forgetting about the heels you wore. Peter’s hand shot out, steadying your waist. “I’m going to wash my face, if that’s okay.”

Peter nodded, standing up. He kept his eye on you as you walked into the hallway, entering the bathroom. He walked over to his closet to find you a hoodie and sweatpants. When you returned, face still mildly damp and eyes tired, Peter was quick to wrap you in his arms again. He smiled as you melted against him, cheek pressed against his chest. The touch was nice and warm, and had you leaning into his body. “You tired?”

“M’yeah.” Peter chuckled, chest bubbling against your face. He pulled away slightly, but your arms kept him close to you. “Come on, just to get changed then we can cuddle.”

Cuddle. You barely ever cuddled, unless you were watching a movie, which led to inevitable sex. Peter steered you out of your small top and bra, guiding your face into the hole of his hoodie, followed by your arms into the sleeves. You wiggled out of your skirt, shaking your head when Peter offered you his sweatpants. He chuckled, folding them again. “Do you want some water?”

“Yes please. God, I can already feel the headache coming.”

“You sobered up?”

“Yeah. I didn’t get drunk, I think it’s just the noise. How do you feel?”

“Yeah, good. I didn’t drink much either, so I feel sharp.”

You grinned, accepting the metal bottle of water Peter offered you. It had a capital 'P' on the front, and wasn’t completely full, but you took two big gulps from it anyway, then offered it to Peter. “Sharp? Senses acute, Mr. Parker?”

“Yeah, exactly like that.” His smile disappeared behind the rim of the water bottle, and he took a long sip, sighing loudly in satisfaction when he swallowed. You climbed into Peter’s bed, settling under the covers. Peter undressed from his jeans and t-shirt, leaving them in a pile on the floor before reaching for the sweatpants he had just folded. He followed you into the bed, hands finding the curve of your waist and pulling you flush against his bare chest.

“Thank you for staying.” He whispered. You smiled softly, pushing yourself up on the bed so you could press your lips against his. Peter’s eyes fluttered shut as he relaxed into the kiss, pressing himself harder against you. He stroked his fingers against your cheek as his legs tangled with your bare ones under the sheets.

“I’m happy I did.” You finally said, settling back down on the pillow. Peter sighed, breaking eye contact for a brief moment and opening his mouth, as though to say something, then closing it again. “What’s wrong?”

Peter’s gaze snapped back up, and his mouth dipped open again, though no words came out. He looked around, gathering his thoughts before finally saying “I’ve really been enjoying our time together.” You froze, eyes hardening as you pushed yourself to sit up, the cautious tone Peter was using sending you into a panic. Peter followed your movements, twiddling with his thumbs as he continued, “But I don’t- I think we could, I could enjoy it more if I really understood the nature of our relationship.”

You furrowed your eyebrows, scanning Peter’s posture. His shoulders were slightly hunched, nerves clouding his eyes as he gathered his thoughts. “Pete? I don’t… I don’t understand.”

“Would you like to be my girlfriend? Officially?”

“Oh!” Peter’s chest deflated at your quiet gasp, and he nodded, as though you’d already rejected him. You reached out to place a hand on his thigh, attracting his gaze back up to your face. “Peter, I’d love to.”

“You would?” Peter grinned widely, a relieved sigh leaving him as you nodded, shuffling closer to him on the bed. Peter licked his lips, cupping your cheeks and leaning forward to kiss you quickly. You giggled, launching yourself onto Peter to hug him, arms settling around his waist. Peter laughed, kissing the top of your head and he laid back down on the bed. The room was silent for a long moment, the two of you holding each other lovingly.

“Do you want me to turn off the lights?” He asked quietly, but you shook your head softly. “I’m not really tired anymore.”

“Oh... Do you want to kiss for a little bit?

“Yeah.”

taglist: @dream-alittlebiggerdarling, @dearlizzies, @bxuzi, @rory-cakes, @dlljdhsh, @aouoo, @fandomhoe101

[dollkuna]

the digest. clingy bf sukuna who can't stand when you go out without him :(

sukuna has a hard time taking no for an answer. so, when you told him your saturday date would have to be rescheduled, he wasn't exactly thrilled.

in fact, for the entire week leading up to it, he completely dismissed the idea, acting as if there was no universe in which you wouldn't be going out with him.

"are you wearing the black dress for dinner?" he’d asked, just a couple of days before, his voice a low rumble beside you. it was as if you hadn't already clearly laid out your actual plans. "you look nice in the black dress."

"i am wearing the black dress, actually," you hummed back, flipping to the next page of your novel. he was snuggled beside you under the warm sheets, comfortable and completely oblivious. "not for dinner, though. for the party. the one i'm going to. like i said."

in response, you’d gotten an grunt, which you’d taken as acceptance, or at least acknowledgement. that's why it struck you as so utterly odd, how completely shell-shocked he looked on said saturday, watching you get ready for an event that clearly wasn't a date.

"ryo," you sighed, seeing the storm brewing in his golden eyes. "relax." no, you weren’t betraying him, as sukuna so dramatically put it; you were just heading to a friend’s birthday party. "i really can't not go. it's a birthday. it only happens, you know, once a year. we can absolutely go tomorrow."

he narrowed his brows at you, arms crossed over his chest like a petulant child. "relax? this is treason."

as you carefully put in your delicate earrings, you shot him a quick glance. "jesus, baby. i'll be back before you even know i'm gone."

for a brief second, a flicker of hope crossed sukuna's face. "and… i can't come?" your boyfriend looked absolutely adorable, pouting like that. you didn't dare point it out, though, not wanting to risk dampening his already fragile mood any further.

instead, you reached out and gently pinched his cheek, and he responded with a playful nip at your finger. "no, i'm sorry. it's really just a girls' thing."

"you won't even know i'm there," he insisted, his voice surprisingly earnest.

you couldn't help but laugh softly, tilting your head at him. "you're a 6'5, pink-haired man, dude. i think i'll know."

"don't call me that. and you don't love me," he muttered, turning his head away dramatically.

just then, your phone buzzed, and you knew without looking it was your friend. a quick honk from outside confirmed it – your ride was here, and you needed to leave. "don't be like that. you know i do."

"then stay." his voice was firm, unyielding.

"no."

"i knew it," he declared, a hint of self-pity in his tone.

"stop. okay, fine," you huffed, walking over to where he was still seated on the edge of the bed. you stepped between his legs, placing your hands on his broad shoulders. "i'll be back thirty minutes early."

his expression didn't change one bit. "stay."

"one hour early," you tried, chewing on your bottom lip, hoping to appeal to his logical side.

"stay."

throwing him a look, you squinted at sukuna. "do you even know how bargaining works?"

"stay." sukuna's poker face held as steady as ever, completely unbreakable.

you ran your fingers through his soft, spiky hair, a heavy, weary breath escaping you. "alright, fine. two hours early, and we can cuddle and watch movies after."

he paused, a tiny flicker in his eyes, like he was genuinely considering this new offer. then, he shook his head slowly. "stay."

your shoulders slumped, and you let out a long, theatrical groan. "you can pick the movie."

"deal." he'd won, and he knew it, a smug, triumphant look spreading across his face.

either way, you ended up coming home three hours early.

[darkbluekies]

Silas, Dr Kry & Jerry drabbles: Kissing

Yandere!Mafia oc, yandere!doctor oc & yandere!female!mafia

Warnings: suggestive content maybe? Its not too bad though?

Silas:

You thought that you would get a few minutes to yourself on the couch? You thought wrong. Silas straddles you, pressing you down into the couch's soft pillows, his mouth easily finding yours. He sucks the air out of your lungs, mouth moving against yours in a skillful, yet almost lost manner.

"You taste like mint", he murmurs.

"I'm chewing gum", you pant, trying to breathe between his attacks.

Before you know it, his tounge has managed to find the gum between your teeth, moved it into his own mouth and swallowed it, while never stopping his kisses.

"Did you just-?" you gasp and try to pull away to make sure that he just actually did that.

"I've swallowed worse", he mumbles between kisses. "Come here."

His hands grab the back of your neck to move you even closer, lifting your upper body up from the couch. Kissing, sucking, biting. Never stopping until your lips have doubled in size.

Dr Kry:

The lake is still. The dusk chilly. Summer's warm. You sit together on his small private dock, watching the water. He has his arm around your waist, holding you to him. He glances at you from time to time, at your lips before leaning over, gently turning your head and kisses you. His kisses are slow and gentle, but not scared. One hand cradls your face, the other moves closer around your waist.

"You're shivering", he whispers against your lips. "Are you cold?"

You shake your head, but he's already removing his cardigan, hanging it over your shoulders. His hand comes to cup your face again before he leans in, kissing again. His arm around your waist doesn't seem where to place the hand, nervous of placing it wrong. He doesn't mean for it to be sexual, he just needs the warmth of your mouth. Doesn't want you to feel pressured.

But he can't stop it. His lips leave yours and start to place soft, careful kisses along your jaw, up to your temple. He doesn't do it often, but the need to worship you in a sentimental place and time as this makes him want to show his full devotion.

"You smell good", he whispers. "Is that the shampoo I bought? Do you like it?"

You nod. Dr Kry smiled and carsses your cheek with his thumb before kissing you again.

Jerry:

She has brought you up on a roof top on a random skyscraper. You just went along withou asking questions, but now that you'r sitting here you can't help but admire the view. Nightsky, twinkling buildings and stars.

"Pretty, right?" Jerry asks as she sits beside you. "Makes me want to devour you."

"What?" you chuckle. "Where did that come from?"

"Inside thought. But honestly, you can't expect me to act like a civilised human being when your eyes are reflecting all the lights like a bunny's eyes." She moves closer. "It makes me into a wolf. And wolves eat bunnies."

With that said, she closes every distance, latching her lips onto yours. Jerry's kisses are like alcohol. They drug every part of your nervous system, bewitch you and make you drunk and begging for more. Skillfull is an underestimation. She grabs you throat, holding you to her, controlling your mouth with hers. She doesn't leave time to breathe.

"Look at you", she smiles as she pulls back for a moment, using her hand on your throat to direct your face upwards. "So damn cute. I'm so selfish for keeping you to myself, but I'llnever change."

With that said, she dives right back in, grinning to herself when your eyes roll back slightly.

[shouyuus]

sfw; human!jinu au

right but human!au jinu who's kind of a bastard when you first meet him because he was abandoned as a kid or something and is viciously insecure so he tries to keep his distance just to make sure he can never get hurt like that again, because so long as he keeps people at arm's length then they won't have the power to hurt him. uses his looks to fool around a bit in college, is pretty good at sports, so probably on the basketball team, builds up this reputation for being kind of a fuckboy jock, but you could've sworn you've seen him sitting by himself in the library, tucked into the corner table, humming to himself, so quietly that he probably doesn't think anyone can hear.

who meets your eyes sometimes in the dining commons and you can see the facade flicker, just for a moment.

"the library's closing soon."

he jolts awake, jerking up, wincing as his cheek unsticks itself from a page in his music theory textbook. he blinks up at you for a solid three seconds before he gathers himself enough for words --

"-- shit, sorry uh --" he grabs at his papers and books, trying to shove them into his bag even as you drop into the seat next to him, cocking your head as you watch.

"that was a joke," you say, completely straight-faced, "you know that the library doesn't actually close, right?"

jinu freezes; the tips of his ears are a vivid, burning red.

a tiny grin twitches at the corner of your lips.

he turns back to face you, a frown dug deep between his brows.

"and who're you again?"

you reach into your bag and tug out a stack of papers and a red pen. he eyes it with mild curiosity.

"i'm the ta for that music theory class you've been 'auditing' for nearly an entire semester," you answer, jerking your chin towards the textbook still peaking out of his bag.

the heat works it's way into his cheeks till he's red down to the roots of his hair. he clears his throat, grasps for something to say but he comes up empty. so he settles for frowning a bit harder and crossing his arms, staring as you start to mark up the papers.

"you've got a good voice y'know." you don't look up.

jinu jumps so hard his knee bangs into the table. he hisses with pain, curling into the chair as you glance up.

"ow -- fuck!"

you blink at him as he sighs, his shoulders sagging ever so slightly.

"you should just take the class if you want to that badly."

"whatever."

"i mean, i could kick you out," you muse, dropping your eyes back to the papers, "technically, you're not allowed to 'audit' a class for more than the first month but since i'm the one who takes attendance..." you trail off.

jinu scoffs, "right. cool. so what is it? what'dya want? front row seats to the big game next week? abby's number? a date with me?" he smirks.

you cock an eyebrow, "i... think i'll pass... on all the above, thanks. why're you so cagey about taking a music theory class, anyway?"

jinu stares at you for a moment before shrugging, "'s just not... on brand for... someone like me, y'know?"

your eyebrows ascend the planes of your forehead as you deadpan at him. he withers slightly, scratching at the back of his head, tugging on the strings of his hoodie, his eyes flickering across the table like a frantic dragonfly, uncertain of the waters below.

"on... brand?" you prompt.

at this, jinu sighs, slumping back in his seat and casting his eyes towards the ceiling.

"it's just -- the team'd probably -- i dunno -- make fun of me or something if they found out --"

you frown, "who cares about that?"

jinu flicks his eyes at you, "i do -- they're kinda my friends."

"doesn't really sound like friends if you can't even take a music class without them judging you."

jinu rolls his eyes, "yeah well... they're the only friends i've got so."

you resume your grading, "not the only friends."

jinu huffs out a breath, "really? and who else --" but he cuts off as soon as you glance up to meet his eyes.

you watch as his cheeks mottle with color and he chews on his bottom lip. after another churning, thickening silence, he asks --

"why're you doing this?"

you sigh, putting down your pen.

"like i said, you've got a nice voice. and you seem to really like the class. i just think that you'd do well in it, that's all."

"that's... really all?"

you nod. a soft, disbelieving smile ghosts across his lips. it looks strange on him, like his muscles don't quite remember what it's like to do such a thing without an ulterior motive.

his eyes flicker from the papers to your face. the little smile tugs into a much more practiced grin, his eyebrows quirking into his signature smolder.

"so. you gonna gimme the pop quiz questions for class tomorrow morning?"

you rap him on the forehead with your red pen.

"don't push it."

jinu laughs, the sound deep and charming.

"c'mooooon. i thought we were friends, hm?" his smile is devious and wide and altogether way too roguish.

you bite down the heat slowly working it's way up your neck and recompose yourself as you go back to your grading.

"but i could be convinced into helping you study for it. because that's what friends are supposed to do."

jinu's smile flickers for a second before it settles into something a bit softer, a bit sadder, and he nods.

"yeah... yeah, i think i can live with that."

[ackermanrage]

ʟɪᴘꜱᴛɪᴄᴋ ᴄᴏɴꜰᴇꜱꜱɪᴏɴꜱ

levi ackerman x fem!reader warnings: none :) an: finally some levi fluff hehe~ i saw a fic like this a long time ago and decided to recreate it 😊

You stood near Levi’s desk, arms crossed and a teasing smirk on your lips as he finished adjusting the straps on his gear. The early morning light poured in through the window behind him, casting his office in an amber glow—warm enough to soften even the infamous scowl on his face.

“You’re triple-checking your harness like a rookie,” you said lightly.

“I don’t intend on dying because of a loose strap, brat.”

“You don’t intend on dying, period,” you corrected, walking over and gently pulling his cravat tighter around his neck. “Besides, you’ve got someone to come back to now.”

Levi’s eyes flickered up to meet yours. That intensity—the one only you ever got to see soften.

“I don’t need a reminder,” he said lowly.

You didn’t break eye contact. Instead, your fingers trailed from his cravat up to his cheek. His hands instinctively found your waist, steadying you, grounding both of you in that rare and quiet intimacy that existed only behind closed doors.

He glanced at you sideways. “What are you doing?”

“This,” you whispered, and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek.

He sighed, as if he were already exhausted by your antics—but you didn’t miss the way his fingers flexed at his side.

“Are we really doing this right now?”

“Mmhmm,” you murmured, lips grazing his jaw. “Before you go risking your life, I think you deserve a proper goodbye.”

Another kiss—lower this time, brushing the underside of his jaw.

Then one near his ear.

Then one just above his collarbone.

He shifted slightly, but still didn’t stop you. Maybe he didn’t want to.

“Don’t get carried away,” he muttered.

“You love it.”

“You’re leaving marks.”

You leaned in and said sweetly, “I'm not.”

Another kiss, slow and possessive, right at the side of his throat.

Levi let out a breath through his nose and fastened his cravat lazily over it. “You done?”

You tapped your chin in thought, then kissed his mouth once—quick and warm.

“Now I’m done.”

He adjusted his jacket, grabbed his gloves—but didn’t notice the trail of lipstick evidence decorating his pale skin.

You, of course, stayed completely quiet.

As he stepped toward the door, he glanced at you once more, his tone softer now.

“Try not to miss me too much.”

You gave a slow, coy smile. “Too late.”

---

The morning chill hadn’t yet burned off. The squad stood in a loose circle near the horses, the kind of barely-coordinated gathering that usually only happened when Levi hadn’t arrived yet.

Eren was yawning. Jean was pacing. Mikasa was already fully prepared and silently judging everyone else.

“Where the hell is he?” Jean muttered, shifting his weight. “Captain’s never late.”

“Maybe he’s sick,” Connie said, brows raised. “Or like, sleeping in.”

“Maybe a Titan ate him,” Sasha added helpfully, chewing on a hunk of bread.

Mikasa didn’t say anything, but her eyes were on the HQ building like a hawk.

Then—footsteps.

Levi emerged from HQ, striding toward them with his usual quiet confidence. Scouts jacket. Bladed gear. Blank expression. Standard-issue everything—

Except the very obvious lipstick mark on his left cheek.

And the one half-hidden under his jawline.

And the faint pink blur at the base of his neck, slightly covered by his scarf but still peeking out.

He didn’t notice.

But they did.

Hange blinked once.

Sasha choked on her bite.

Armin visibly froze, as if trying to compute a math equation that broke physics.

Jean stepped back like he’d seen a ghost.

“...What the fuck is that?” Jean muttered. “Does anyone else—? Am I losing it?”

“Wait—waitwaitwait,” Connie gasped, grabbing Armin’s arm. “Look at his face. Look at his face.”

“I am looking at his face,” Armin whispered. “There’s lipstick. There’s definitely lipstick.”

One mark near the edge of his jawline.

Another just under his ear.

A third on the side of his neck.

A faint smear on his collarbone, barely hidden by the cravat.

Hange turned, took one look at Levi, and let out a loud, delighted cackle. “HOLY SHIT.”

“Are those—?” Sasha started.

“Lipstick,” Mikasa confirmed, arms crossed.

Jean took a step back like he’d seen a ghost. “Who the hell kissed Levi Ackerman?”

Eren squinted. “That… that can’t be real. That’s Levi. He doesn’t—he doesn’t do kissing.”

“LOOK AT HIS FACE!” Jean barked, pointing. “Someone full-on made out with him before he got here!”

Moblit looked like he was glitching. “Did we enter a parallel universe?”

Levi stopped walking. His expression was blank, jaw tight, but he could feel all eight of them staring holes through him.

He considered just mounting his horse and leaving without a word.

But no.

Too late now.

“What,” he said flatly, “are you all gawking at?”

“Captain,” Armin started delicately, “you… seem to be wearing… um…”

“Several very vibrant statements of affection,” Hange supplied. “In Rich Rosewood. Excellent shade, by the way.”

Levi glared. “Tch. It’s none of your business.”

“You’re covered in it,” Sasha said, voice an octave too high. “It’s everybody’s business now.”

“You’ve got kisses all over your damn face,” eren said, incredulous.

Levi frowned. “I do not.”

Mikasa reached into her pocket and whipped out a tiny compact mirror. “Check the evidence, sir.”

He looked into it.

Pause.

A longer pause.

His expression didn’t change—but his eyes did.

“…Shit.”

Connie exploded. “WHO KISSED YOU?!”

“No way this was just one kiss,” Sasha breathed. “This was like—a storm.”

Armin looked genuinely distressed. “Captain, are you in a relationship? Like—a real one?”

Hange’s grin stretched ear to ear. “Oh my god, it makes so much sense. You've been disappearing more. Staying late in meetings that mysteriously don’t involve any of us. That mysterious bruise on your neck last month. The weird good mood. This is huge.”

Levi adjusted his cravat again, this time higher, but it was far too late.

He considered lying. Brushing it off.

He sighed.

“I’m seeing someone,” he said, voice sharp as steel.

Sasha screamed.

Connie dropped to his knees. “THE WORLD ISN’T REAL.”

Jean’s eyes narrowed. “Wait. Wait, wait. Who is it? Who could it possibly be?”

“It’s not your concern,” Levi said calmly, starting toward his horse.

“It absolutely is our concern!” Jean cried. “We’re invested now!”

“Are they in the Corps?” Armin asked, trying to keep the tone respectful. “You can just say yes or no. Blink twice.”

“No,” Levi replied. “But yes.”

Moblit whispered, “What does that even mean?”

“Are they hot?” connie asked.

Levi didn’t answer.

“Oh my god,” Hange murmured, looking skyward. “It’s y/n, isn’t it?”

Levi froze mid-step.

And that silence said everything.

Eren howled. “YOU’RE DATING HER?! SHE’S LIKE—THE COOLEST PERSON IN THE ENTIRE BRANCH!”

“She could punch all of us and I’d say thank you,” Sasha added.

Jean shook his head slowly. “I didn’t even think you liked people.”

“I don’t,” Levi muttered. “She’s an exception.”

Mikasa was quiet, but the smallest, faintest smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. “She makes sense for you.”

Levi mounted his horse without further commentary.

Everyone watched him like he was a newly crowned deity.

“When did this happen?” Armin asked.

“None of your damn business.”

“Do you love her?” Sasha blurted.

Levi paused. “Irrelevant.”

“OH MY GOD YOU LOVE HER,” Jean screamed.

“Like. Deep,” Sasha whispered.

“You guys gonna get married or—?” Connie started.

“Enough,” Levi barked. “Anyone who brings this up on the mission gets left in the forest.”

Hange sang out. “This is the best day of my life.”

“Shut up.”

“You can’t stop us,” Connie said proudly. “This is the tea of the year.”

“Connie,” Levi deadpanned, “do you want a concussion?” "But you gotta admit captain, you're down bad." Eren said, smirking.

Levi turned around. But from the way his shoulders tensed ever so slightly, the answer was clear.

And he still didn’t wipe off the lipstick.

©ackermanrage - please do not copy, translate, or plagiarize my work!

[hearts4hughes]

can you write how reader was at the party and she couldn't go home because her friend had already left, so she called dbf!rafe to ask him for help even though she was proud and didn't want to. he arrived and she was a little drunk and he was rude a bit with her because of this since he was kinda worried and he was in cassual hoodie and shorts and she was in a short dress he was like a little bit cursing at it. they had sexual tension a lot

you really don’t want to call him. but your friend already left with some guy from surf club, and your phone’s on five percent, and you’re standing on a gravel driveway in heels that weren’t made for this kind of night.

the party’s still going inside—music thudding through the walls, lights glowing soft and purple across the porch—but you’re not drunk enough to beg a ride from someone you barely know. you could uber, but the last time you did that down here, the driver asked if you “believed in crystals” and then missed your turn four separate times.

so, with a sigh, you open your contacts. you scroll through your contacts. you scroll past dad, because…no. and land on rafe cameron. you hesitate. pride prickling like static beneath your skin. but the hem of your dress is riding up your thighs and your lip gloss is smudged and you really don’t want to sleep in someone’s guest room that smells like beer and sex.

you press call. it rings once…twice. then he answers. you hear shuffling, an exhale, before he mutters, “what.” no hello. just gravel and impatience.

you chew the inside of your cheek. “um, hi.”

silence fills the phone. he curses under his breath. you hear him click on his bedside lamp. “where are you?” he asks.

“i—okay, first of all, rude.” you reply, rolling your eyes and flipping your hair.

“where,” he says again, lower this time. like he’s one second away from hanging up.

your heart does that annoying skip thing it always does when his voice gets like this—rough and tight around the edges. “i’m at hunter’s,” you say as if he knew where that was. you glance back at the house. “kind of stranded. long story. but, um, can you come get me?”

another pause. you can practically hear the way he’s exhaling through his nose. “send me the pin,” he mutters. “don’t talk to anyone. stay where you are.”

then he hangs up.

~

he shows up fifteen minutes later, headlights slashing through the dark like a warning shot. you watch him climb out of his truck—hoodie, athletic shorts, baseball cap backwards. completely casual and yet still, somehow, every girls’ dream.

he slams the door with such force that people behind you gasp. the gravel beneath him crunches as he trudges towards you. “what the fuck are you wearing,” he says before anything else. his eyes scan up and down your figure. if only you knew what that little dress was doing to him.

you blink slowly and look down at your tiny red dress. then back up at him, slow. “excuse me?”

“jesus christ.” he rakes a hand down his face, squeezing his eyes shut. “are you drunk?”

“only a little.” you tilt your head. you brace your teeth in the sweetest smile. “i called you, didn’t i?”

“yeah, because you had no other choice.”

you frown. he’s never mean. not like this. your bottom lip just out as you read every bit of anger etched into his features. but then you look closer—at the tension in his jaw, the pulse ticking hard in his throat—and something shifts. it’s not anger, it’s worry. maybe even something underneath that. something heavier.

his eyes drop down your legs, slow and deliberate. he swears under his breath. “this fucking dress…” he trails off before he gets himself in trouble.

you cross your arms, subconsciously pushing your tits together. his shorts start to feel one size too small. “you don’t like it?” you jut your lip out even farther, twirling your hair with your index finger.

his gaze cuts back up to yours. “it’s not the dress.” he grits.

you swallow. your mouth feels too dry. “then what?”

“it’s the idea of you in it, at some dumbass party, surrounded by guys who don’t know how to keep their fucking hands to themselves.”

your heartbeat kicks loud in your ears. your gaze drops to inspect him. his hoodie is worn, a little faded, and you want to tug on the drawstrings just to see if he’ll flinch. he’s looking at you like he already regrets coming, like he wants to throw his jacket over your shoulders and drag you back to the truck without a word.

you step closer instead. each stride is slow and too seductive for a drunk twenty-something-year old. “rafe.”

he doesn’t move. “what?” his breathing increases. his eyes dart back and fourth between you and that damn dress.

you look up at him, too close now, sugar laced and sick with whatever this is. “you’re mad.”

“you think this is mad?” he says, low and sharp, eyes burning. “you don’t want to see me mad, ladybug.”

your breath catches. he’s never called you that like this before. it’s usually a tease. something playful to spike your blood pressure. but now, he says it like it’s a threat. the air changes.

his fingers twitch like he’s thinking about touching you. your dress is too tight and he’s too close and your lipstick’s faded and he’s staring at your mouth like he’s thinking about ruining you. you don’t say anything. you don’t have to.

the tension crackles, mean and hot, sitting heavy in your chest. “get in the truck,” he says finally, voice rough.

your frown deepens. “rafe-“

“now.”

you hold his gaze for one long second. let him see the way your lips part, the way your thighs shift. then you turn, walk slow, and climb in. the sway of your hips is dramatized. it’s half alcohol and half fake confidence. you make sure to slam the door behind you when you slide onto the leather seat of his truck.

but still, you feel his eyes on your legs the whole way home.

taglist ~ @ren-ni @bungurus @kayperrysinging @cupids-diner @mojitrvo @babygirlboeser @makiplan @ladyatwalmart @qversazex @favbrnette @nothingtosee333her @soft-starr @f10werfae @brennanyay @grungefck @kravinoffswife @restinpaece @illumoria @meetmeintheemeraldpool @miaaaoa @imtalkinnonsense @strawberrymilk99 @angel06babysworld @rafesteddy @drewrry @urcoolgf @thegirlnextdoorssister @sydneysslove @dsfault @missabsey

[waitingandwishing]

Previous Chapter - Next Chapter

Word Count: 2k "𝖫𝗂𝗏𝖾 𝗂𝗇 𝖽𝖺𝗋𝗄𝗇𝖾𝗌𝗌, 𝖻𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗆𝖾 𝖻𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝗇𝖾𝗌𝗌" ━━ Ever since you were a kid, all you wanted was to be cared for.

You hummed under your breath as you walked down the street with a packet of dried fruit. It was odd, usually you never craved fruit like this, but this week seemed to be different. 

As you walked down the oddly lonely street, an unnaturally blue color down an alleyway caught your eye. You turned your head only to see nothing there once again. You dug your hand into the bag, eyes still on the alleyway, and chewed another piece.

A bird suddenly flew down at your feet, looking at you with a little hat perched on its head. You knelt down, tilting your head to the side. It followed with its yellow eyes suddenly bursting into three. You grimaced, backing up.

You looked back up to see another pair of round yellow eyes staring back at you from the alleyway. Was the fruit getting to your head? The yellow eyes moved forward, appearing in the sunlight to reveal itself. It was a… Giant blue tiger?

You hesitated before walking forward, causing the bird to fly away. “Hi?” You spoke, reaching your hand out to pet it. It eyed your hand, frog-blinking before rubbing into it. “Aww… Hi…” Your tone changed from confused to soft in a matter of seconds. “You’re so cuuute.”

“I know.” A familiar said behind you. Although you couldn’t see his face, you could tell his face was smug.

You turned to see Jinu standing with his hands in his pocket. You leaned on your hip, the smile on your face replaced with a serious look. “What are you doing?”

“Just… Talking. I was planning on meeting you last night but you kind of…” He pointed to the bruise on his face and the cuts on his cheek.

You pursed your lips, yeah you really did rough him up… You did feel bad. He wasn’t exactly planning on killing Rumi right? And you trusted her judgement on deciding not to kill him while he was monologuing. And just because he was annoying didn’t mean that he deserved to be roughed up like that right? 

You sighed internally. This was just like you. Oh! I wanna punch this guy, but then you hurt him and all of a sudden feel bad? Ugh… Your emotions always made you do things that contradicted them. 

“Sorry… About that.” You said, rubbing the back of your neck with a guilty expression before clearing your throat. “What were you doing with Rumi?”

“I saw her markings.” Jinu said, “And I know you have them too.”

“How did you know that?” You asked. You doubted that Rumi would’ve told him, and no one else knew, not even Celine.

“I… You really don’t remember me?” Jinu asked. 

“Of course I do? We literally fought yesterday.” You blinked, well, maybe this guy wasn’t an evil demon, but he was definitely… Crazy.

“Right, of course.” Jinu nodded, clearing his throat. The two of you stared at each other, the silence even more awkward with his cat rubbing on your legs.

You smiled immediately, scratching the cat’s ear. It surprisingly purred at the movement, his eyes closed with a smile on his face. You laughed, cupping the cat’s face.

Jinu watched you with wonder, staring at you with a slightly dazed look. You were so… Pretty. Perfect. It had been so long since he’d heard laughter that wasn’t careful or performative. Yours was small, sudden, almost like you regretted letting it escape. He didn’t. He wanted to make you laugh again. 

You cleared your throat, looking at Jinu. “The only reason why I haven’t killed you right now is because… I heard what you had said. About your family… And your lover.”

“I understand how it is to care about people. I guess I sort of… Understand why you sacrificed your soul for that.” You said. You couldn’t believe what you were doing! It was stupid to try and understand, you knew that. Not because you didn’t mean it but because you did. “But if you ever think about using Rumi or mine’s secret against us, I won’t hesitate on killing you.”

“... Right.” Jinu swallowed. You didn’t remember him but… He remembered you. That was what counted right? This kindness you had knew no bounds. Even when you hated him. He’d rather have any connection with you then no connection at all.

He watched as you turned away, giving one last pet to the tiger. Derpy (Yes, I believe the tiger's name is Derpy) made a noise of discomfort, standing up from his sitting position to follow you before looking back at Jinu. Depry let out a grumble, sitting down on the ground almost like a child crossing their arms and pouting.

“It’s okay. We’ll meet her next time.” Jinu said, stroking Derpy’s head as his bird flew down and landed on his shoulder.

- - -

“You know you’ll never beat us. Your plan will never work. We’re gonna…” Mira and Zoey both said before mumbling. You groaned alongside the two of them.

“This is… Really bad.” You said. Anxiety was creeping into you, not just because the Idol Awards was coming soon and you guys had no idea how to write this song, but also because Jinu now knew yours and Rumi’s secret. 

“We only have to write the best diss track ever to crush the Idol Awards, or there’ll be a demon apocalypse.” Mira said sarcastically, flopping onto the bean bag and throwing three darts that landed on Jinu’s face perfectly.

“Yeah! We gotta get up close and insult their stupid faces!” Zoey said, crawling from her chair to the floor. “Their nasty, disgusting, not beautiful… Perfectly dewy, symmetrical, shimmering…”

“Zoey…” You sighed.

“Okay, enough! I’m taking these down!” Mira finalized, ripping off the multiple posters and pictures of the Saja Boys. “Just like how we’re gonna take down these boys!”

“Take down?” You muttered, turning to Rumi who perked up at the word.

“Takedown!” Rumi stood, “That’s the song! It’s a takedown!”

“So sweet, so easy on the eyes…” Zoey started, thinking hard as you came up beside her. “But hideous on the inside.”

“Nice.” Mira nodded.

“You like it?” Zoey asked excitedly.

“Sounds great, Zoey!” You complimented, to which she practically jumped for joy at.

“Whole life spreading lies but you can’t hide…” Mira declared.

“Baby, nice try.” You finished.

“Woah, that’s sounding good.” Mira smiled, crossing her arms. 

Rumi nodded, finding the rhythm of the song. “I’m ‘bout to switch up these vi-” She coughed, her voice suddenly giving out. “Sorry guys.”

“No, take it easy.” Zoey placed her hand on Rumi’s forearm.

“Yeah, rest that voice for Idol Awards.” Mira reassured her.

“I’m sure your voice’ll be better in a few days, Rumi.” You nodded, “After all, Huntrix wouldn’t be Huntrix without you!”

The three of you sat down, now brainstorming the background music and more of the lyrics. 

“You think this is good?” You asked before repeating the lyrics you wrote down, “'Cause I see your real face and it's ugly as sin. Time to put you in your place 'cause you're rotten within’?”

“Yes! Ohhh I love that!” Zoey nodded, “And then we could add, ‘When your patterns start to show, it makes the hatred wanna grow outta my veins’?”

“I like that.” Mira nodded. You and Rumi exchanged glances before nodding. Was this hypocritical of the two of you? That you were talking about their patterns but had ones of your own?

No… No because this was technically about themes stealing others souls. You and Rumi haven’t hurt or killed anyone in your lives. 

“Oh! How about ‘A demon with no feelings. Doesn’t deserve to live’?” Mira suggested excitedly.

“It’s so obvious!” Zoey said.

“That could be what comes after. That it’s obvious what they’re doing?” You suggested.

“Yesss! Oh this song is gonna crush them!” Mira wrote down the lyrics onto her piece of paper, the three of you doing the same as well.

All of a sudden, a pink pulsing echoed throughout the studio and you all exchanged glances. You nodded, leaving the studio and quickly going after the demons. You’d be able to figure out the song once this next wave was done.

- - -

“All right, team, I know everything is all Saja, Saja, Saja but we’re gonna turn it into Huntrix, Huntrix, Huntrix! Yay!” Bobby said, his jazz hands adding a bit of flair to his words. “These fans slept on the sidewalk, overnight!”

“Thanks, Bobby.” You smiled as he tapped away on his phone. You turned to the three of them, lifting up your pen.

“Happy fans, happy Honmoon!” The four of you cheered before separating. 

“Let’s bring them in! Welcome.” Bobby announced. A wave of fans dressed in purple came through the door, all practically running to see you.

You smiled at the amount of people that had come. You didn’t know that this many people really liked Huntrix. Well, you did, but you weren’t expecting to see it fully. You usually didn’t attend many signings like this.

“Hey, hey, single file, no pushing.” Bobby said to the five people dressed in sleeping bags.

“And who should I make this out to?” Rumi asked.

“‘To our biggest fans.’” 

The sleeping bags piled to the floor, revealing the Saja Boys. “It’s the Saja Boys!” The crowd murmured, clearly excited by the second Kpop group.

The four of you groaned, glaring at them with a very reasonable amount of anger. “It is an honor.” Bobby smiled before yelling, “Table, now!”

As soon as the table was set down, half the crowd went to where the Saja Boys were signing. You and Rumi exchanged glances, realizing the stakes. You stood up, a soft smile hiding the annoyance underneath. “THe Saja Boys can sit with us!” You said, “We wouldn’t mind.”

“What? Y/N!”

“Y/N, what are you doing?”

“We need all the fans we can get.” You said, Rumi nodding in agreement. Security pushed the table next to yours, causing the fans to go back into their original line.

Jinu sat down on your right, leaning in close. Uncomfortably close. Rumi eyed you, you glanced at her before nodding. She paused for a moment before nodding as well and going back to signing her posters.

“I didn’t think you liked sharing.” Jinu said, resting his head on his hand.

“There are some things that I’m fine with sharing.” You said, turning to the fan in front of you and giving them a smile as well as a signed poster.

Jinu opened his mouth to retort before quickly closing it. He was going to mention your secret, but he knew you. You never really liked going back on your word. And when people you cared about were in the mix, he was sure you’d actually kill him.

He turned to Rumi, talking to her for a moment. You eyed the two of them, scoffing before pausing. For some reason, you didn’t feel like being around them anymore. Something about them talking to each other rubbed you the wrong way? You must’ve been irritated about something happening earlier this week. Why does it feel like there’s something wrong with you then? You must’ve been stressed too.

You breathed in, calming yourself as you handed out another signed poster. “Hello!” You smiled at four girls standing before you. Jinu turned back towards you, watching how easily you could mask your annoyance. He guessed that some things never changed.

“Hi!” The four of them waved. “We actually, uh have something for you!”

“Oh, really? You didn’t have to.” You smiled. The four of them handed you a letter with their names signed on it. “Thank you girls so much.” You signed the poster with their names and handed it to them.

You loved fans that were like this. You enjoyed reading their letters, minus the creepy ones, and seeing how much of an impact you made on them. As they walked off, you turned to see Jinu staring at you. “What?” You asked.

“Nothing.” He turned back, giving out a signed poster of himself to a fan. “And here I thought we’d be getting along after our last meeting.”

“I’m not trying to associate myself with someone who’s helping Gwi-Ma.” You accused, handing out another poster.

“I’m helping myself.” Jinu fumed. “He’s promised to erase my memories, and those voices in my head will be gone.”

“Are you whispering?” A fan suddenly asked. The two of you glanced at each other before quickly signing a poster and handing it off to them.

“Your secret’s safe with me.” She said, pointing to her shirt. You blinked before giving her a tense smile as she walked off. You forgot how weird fans could be sometimes.

“Just because Gwi-Ma is erasing all your memories doesn’t mean you won’t keep your shame. It’ll still be there.” You challenged, now staring directly at him, “Have you ever considered that the shame of hurting others because of your own selfish desires is the real reason you're a demon?”

Jinu widened his eyes, a flash of recognition appearing across his face. He’d heard that line before. He’s heard you say it time and time again which meant that on the inside, you were still you. 

“Excuse me, Mr. Jinu.” A voice snapped him out of his staring, causing him and you to turn to a little girl standing before you. “I made this for you.” She said, lifting up a piece of paper.

“Uh, for me?” He asked, taking the sheet of paper and looking over it with a surprising amount of care.

You smiled at the cute girl before turning to Jinu, “You really wanna be working for a demon who wants to end a world that she’s living in?”

Jinu paused, the cheers going deaf to his ears. He glanced at you, longing evident, before looking at his drawing once again.

You clapped alongside the crowd, “Woo Jinu.” You said, laughing at his expression. He looked so similar to a lost puppy. 

Rumi followed your movements, clapping alongside you as well, “Give it up for Jinu!” She clapped.

The crowd cheered louder, bouquets of flowers being thrown at the Saja Boys. Mira leaned forward, catching you and Rumi’s cheering. “‘Give it up for Jinu’?” She repeated with a raised eyebrow.

“Unfortunately, the Saja Boys have to run. Thank you, everyone.” Jinu announced, his hand tightening around the drawing as the Saja Boys exited the stage.

You let out a breath. Why was Jinu’s presence so suffocating? You could feel him everywhere and it seemed like every time HUntrix went out for anything the Saja Boys were there. Was he tracking your guys’ movements?

Bobby came up with his phone, a grand smile on his face as he showed you, Zoey, and Mira the new posts on Instagram. “The Internet loves this, and the internet is never wrong!” He said, scrolling through the feed. “Y/N x Jinu! I don’t know what fanfiction is but it sounds important! Zoeystery. Where did they come up with that?”

“Miro-mabby?” Mira gritted her teeth. 

“Aw, you’re so cute together!” Zoey awed. You stared at the feed before rubbing your temples. You were too tired to do this… 

(A/N: What if I told ya'll I'm making another verse for Y/N?)

taglist: @the-bookish-artist @nisarelle @iviorienne @justanindiangirl12 @t4naiis @usuallyunlikelyfox @livsh20

[dayasfilms]

Ahhh I’m obsessed with your writing!!! Can we pls have Star and Steve’s first time together?

Your First Time With Steve

Summary: You and Steve have your first time together after you decide to take a little break from studying for your chemistry exam.

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

Year: Around September-October of 1982 (Star and Steve are in their sophomore year of high school)

Warnings: 18+ content minors dni, smut, fingering, oral (f!receiving), unprotected piv (don’t do this), fluff, bad dirty chem jokes, mentions of Y/N, feeling insecure, losing virginity (both f and m), it would make a lot more sense to read my ST series Reticent (click the Series Masterlist below) before reading this to know more about the part regarding protection and the scar but it’s not absolutely necessary

Word Count: 4.1k

Note: Thank you for your request! Funnily enough, I was already writing this before I even got this request so this is perfect timing. Enjoy a little smut one shot about Star and Steve’s first time together. Also, if you want to get added to my ST taglist, scroll all the way to the bottom of this post and click on the green link!

Series Masterlist

ㅤ♡ ㅤ♡ ㅤ♡

The amount of notes on your desk was enough to drive anyone insane. But even though you were in desperate need of a break, you didn’t stop. You kept flipping through flashcards, reviewing every homework assignment and highlighting the mess of topics that would be on your Chemistry exam in two days.

The house was quiet. Your mom was working late in the city, which meant you had the whole day to yourself with no disruptions. Not that your mom was a disruption, of course she never was. You just enjoyed having some peace to cram.

Though maybe you’d jinxed it. Just as you reached for the next flashcard in your stack, a light tapping sound came from the window. Your head snapped toward the glass, heart skipping just slightly. Cautiously, you stood and stepped closer, unsure what, or who, you’d find outside.

At first, there was nothing. You just saw the trees outside and the faint reflection of your bedroom in the afternoon light. You were just about to turn around when another knock made you jump, and a face appeared at the window.

You shrieked. A hand flew to your chest, trying to calm your racing heart as you exhaled sharply. Outside the glass, Steve Harrington stood with a sheepish grin, waving at you like he hadn’t just shaved a year off your life. You opened the window and stepped back as he climbed through carefully, brushing his jeans before straightening up.

“Steve!” You hissed, hands on your hips. “You scared me! You could’ve fallen!”

He gave you an unapologetic grin as he shut the window behind him. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I’m sorry.”

You rolled your eyes and returned to your desk, pulling out your chair and flopping back into it. “What are you even doing here?”

He sat on the edge of your bed, watching you with soft eyes. “I missed you. Haven’t seen you since…uh, yesterday.”

You turned just enough to raise an eyebrow. “Wow, a whole day?”

“Exactly. Tragic.”

You laughed under your breath and turned back around, flipping open your textbook again. “Why not use the front door like a normal person? My mom’s not even home.” That made him pause. You turned to look at him again. “You didn’t notice her car wasn’t in the driveway, did you?”

He opened his mouth, then scratched the back of his neck. “Okay, in my defense, I was too busy thinking about you. I didn’t really notice anything else.”

You shot him a look over your shoulder, but your smile betrayed you.

“Also,” he added quickly. “Sneaking through your window? It’s super romantic, if you ask me.”

“Oh, is that what that was?” You teased.

Steve stood up and walked over to where you sat, leaning over your shoulder to glance at your pile of notes. His brows raised. “Jesus. How long have you been at this?”

You glanced at the clock on the wall. It was almost three PM. You chewed the inside of your cheek. “…Since about ten? After breakfast.”

His eyes went wide. “That was five hours ago!”

You deadpanned. “Yes, Steve. I can count.”

He didn’t laugh. Instead, he gently spun your chair toward him, his hands resting on the armrests as he bent down to your eye level. “Hey. You need a break.”

You shook your head. “I need to pass Chem.”

“You also need a functioning brain, and I’m pretty sure yours is melting right now.” You smiled a little despite yourself, leaning back in your chair. “And I’m sure you don’t even need to study anymore. You’re the smartest person ever.”

You hesitated. “I don’t know…”

“Come on,” he coaxed, brushing a hand down your arm. “Just ten minutes. I’ll even quiz you first. I promise.”

“You’re gonna quiz me?”

“I’m very qualified,” he said, grabbing a flashcard dramatically and clearing his throat. “What’s the atomic number of carbon?”

You rolled your eyes, yet you still had a small smile form on your lips. “Six.”

He flipped the card. “Correct. I’m a great tutor already.”

You crossed your arms, amused. “One question and you’re giving yourself a gold star?”

“Absolutely.”

He grinned, tossed the card aside, and asked you a few more. For a little while, it actually worked. You were laughing and forgetting about the pressure. But eventually, Steve stopped reading, just watching you quietly with a look that made your stomach do a slow flip.

He gently placed the flashcards down and stood up straight, motioning for you to do the same. “Come on. Just ten minutes. Take a real break.”

You let out a dramatic sigh and stood, and Steve didn’t waste a second before sliding his arms around your waist, pulling you toward him.

You smiled up at him, wrapping your arms around his neck. “You’re relentless.”

“I just want you to breathe,” he murmured. “And maybe make out with you a little.”

You laughed. “Of course you do.”

You didn’t protest when Steve gently tugged you away from the desk and toward your bed. You let him fall back onto it first, laughing when he exaggerated the flop, then climbed up after him. He reached for you immediately, pulling you down beside him.

“You’re warm,” he murmured as you settled into his chest.

You snorted softly. “You dragged me away from my desk. This is your fault so stop complaining.”

“Who said I’m complaining?” He said with a grin, then tilted your chin up toward him. “You’re so cute when you’re mad at me.”

You rolled your eyes, lips already curving as he leaned in. His kiss was soft at first, teasing and slow. But as your lips continued to move, it grew heavier. His fingers brushed along your jaw before sliding into your hair, and your hand found the hem of his shirt, fingertips curling slightly against the fabric.

The kiss deepened as you shifted, Steve sitting against the headboard while you straddled him, your body pressed to his. His hands moved to your waist, holding you steady.

It was easy to lose track of time like that. It was easy to melt into the feel of him, the way he kissed you like he’d never get tired of it. The way he always made you feel like you were the most important person in the world.

You shifted slightly, and the pressure of his bulge against your thigh made your breath hitch. He let out a quiet whine that was barely audible, but he quickly deepened the kiss to cover it up. The sound still lingered in your mind, sending a flutter through your core as your fingers curled tighter into his shirt.

At some point, you pulled back just enough to catch your breath, but you didn’t move far. Your forehead rested against his, and both of you were quiet for a moment, just listening to the sound of each other’s breathing.

Your heart pounded and not because of the kissing, but from the thoughts that formed the longer he held you. “Steve?” You asked softly.

His eyes blinked open. “Yeah?”

Your voice wavered, trying to figure out how to say it. “Have you ever, you know…done the thing before? Like, actually?”

Steve blinked up at you, surprised. “No. I haven’t.”

You nodded slowly, not quite meeting his eyes. “Me neither.”

He was quiet for a second, searching your expression. “Why do you ask?”

You paused, fingers fiddling with the collar of his shirt. “I was just…thinking. About us. Being with you like this.” His brows softened as he tilted his head, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. You glanced at him, and though your cheeks were warm, you pushed through your shyness. “I think…I think I want to. I want my first time to be with you.”

Steve’s eyes widened, the boy stuttering. “I–I, uh, wha–really?”

You wanted to hide, thinking that maybe you shouldn’t have said anything. “Yeah. I mean, we don’t have to. If–if you don’t want your first time to be with me, I understand. But…I–actually, never mind. Forget I said anything.”

“Hey, no.” He shifted a little, cupping your face gently, his thumb brushing along your cheek. “Of course I want my first time to be with you. But are you really sure about this?”

You nodded, your voice a whisper. “Yeah. I mean…I’m nervous. But I trust you. And I want this. I want to do it with you.”

Steve let out a quiet breath and smiled, like he couldn’t believe how lucky he was to have you. “Okay. We’ll go slow, alright? If you change your mind at any point, you just tell me.”

“I will,” you promised, your heart fluttering.

He leaned in to kiss you again, gentler than before, like he was memorizing every second. His hands stayed put on your waist, always patient with you.

Slowly, he lays you back on the bed, his body covering yours. He peppered kisses along your jawline and down your neck, his lips leaving a tingly sensation on your skin. You arched into his touch, your hands gripping his shoulders as he continued his exploration of your body.

He stopped, pulling back a little to check on you. “Are you okay?” He asked, his voice gentle.

You nodded, giving him a small smile. “Just a little nervous,” you admitted, your cheeks turning warm with embarrassment.

He reached out and took your hand in his, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “It’s okay, I’m nervous too,” he confessed, his thumb tracing small circles on your skin. "But I promise, we’ll take it slow. We’ll only do what you’re comfortable with.”

His words eased your anxiety, and you found yourself relaxing a little. You tilted your head up and captured his lips in another passionate kiss. He responded immediately, his hand cupping your cheek as he deepened the kiss. You moaned softly against his mouth, your tongue tangling with his.

Your hands began to roam, going up and down his chest. He groaned, his fingers tangling in your hair. You could feel his erection pressing against your thigh, and it sent excitement through your body.

When he reached the hem of your shirt, he paused, his eyes seeking permission. You nodded breathlessly, eager for more. He took it off, revealing your bra-clad breasts. His gaze darkened with desire as he took in the sight of you.

“God, you’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his voice deep.

He leaned down and pressed a kiss to the swell of your breasts, his fingers swiftly unhooking your bra. As he took off the material, he gazed upon your exposed flesh, his eyes filled with awe.

Suddenly, his eyes landed on a scar near the side of your stomach. He paused, looking up at you. “Wait, what’s this?”

You immediately covered it with your hands, shying away from him. “Um, it’s nothing. It was from a car accident when I was younger.”

His eyes softened, and he went down to the scar, pressing soft kisses on it. The contact made you shiver.

“Steve, you don’t have to—”

“Shh…” he shushed you, continuing to pepper kisses along the faded edges. “Just let me.”

You didn’t say anything else as he loved on you, pressing his lips to make you forget about what happened to you in the past. You wanted to tell him, but not yet. You weren’t ready to open up about that part of your life. You just watched him, your heart full of warmth and love as he put so much care into you.

He then brought his head up and took one hardened nipple into his mouth. You cried out, your fingers tangling in his hair as he sucked and nibbled gently. Waves of pleasure coursed through your body, making you squirm beneath him.

As he lavished attention on your breasts, his hand slid up your thigh, caressing you through your sweatpants. You tensed for a moment, unsure if you were ready for this. But as his hands went higher, you found yourself aching for more.

When his fingers brushed against your core, you knew there was no turning back. This was really happening. You were about to give yourself to him completely.

He pulled away briefly, his eyes locking with yours. “Is this okay?” He asked, his voice quiet.

You nodded, biting your lower lip as you gazed up at him. “Yes,” you whispered. “Please, I want this. I want you, Steve.”

A smile spread across his face, and he leaned down to capture your lips in another searing kiss. As he did, his hands helped you take off your pants and then panties, before his fingers glided through your slick folds.

You gasped at the contact, your hips lifting off the bed to meet his touch. He stroked you gently, applying just the right amount of pressure to make you moan with pleasure. Your head fell back against the pillow, your eyes fluttering closed as you lost yourself in his touch.

But as he continued to pleasure you, you couldn’t help but feel a little worried. You couldn’t stop thinking about how maybe you weren’t good enough to do this, that you would only disappoint him and make a fool out of yourself. Your insecurities threatened to overwhelm you, and you found yourself tensing up under his touch.

Sensing your sudden hesitation, Steve pulled back, concern etched on his face. “Hey, what’s wrong?” He asked, his fingers stilling.

You bit your lip, unable to meet his gaze. “I’m just...I’m worried that you won’t like it,” you admitted, your voice small.

He cupped your face in his hands, forcing you to look at him. “Hey, there’s nothing to be worried about,” he assured you, his eyes soft. “This is both our first times, remember? We’re learning together. There’s no right or wrong way to do this, all that matters is that we’re honest with each other and communicate what feels good. I want to make sure you feel good.”

His words helped calm your nerves again, and you felt yourself relaxing once more. You leaned into his touch, your lips brushing against his in a tender kiss.

“Thank you,” you whispered against his mouth. “For being so understanding.”

He smiled, his thumb caressing your cheek. “Of course, honey,” he murmured, before capturing your lips in another deep kiss.

As the kiss intensified, you found yourself losing yourself in the moment, all thoughts of nervousness and self-doubt fading away. You were here with Steve, the boy you loved, and nothing else mattered.

With newfound confidence, you began to explore his body, your hands moving under his shirt to touch his bare skin. He groaned at your touch, his hips pressing against yours. You could feel his bulge growing, straining against his jeans.

Unable to resist any longer, you reached down and palmed him through the denim, earning a sharp intake of breath from him. He bucked into your hand, his fingers digging into your hips.

“God, Y/N,” he gasped, his head falling forward to rest against your shoulder. “You’re driving me crazy.”

Satisfied with his reaction, you began to unbuckle his belt, your fingers trembling slightly. He helped you push his jeans and boxers down his legs, kicking them off the side of the bed. He then took his shirt off, throwing it to the side as well.

Now fully naked before each other, you took a moment to appreciate the sight of him. He was lean, subtly toned from years of sports, with a faint trail of chest hair that made your breath catch. His cock made your eyes widen, and you couldn’t help but feel nervous again.

Sensing your gaze, Steve looked down at you, eyebrows furrowing. “Hey, we don’t have to do this, honey. Just say the word and we can stop,” he told you softly.

You shook your head, bringing your hand to his cheek. “No, no. It’s not that I don’t want to do it. It’s just…” you looked back at his cock. “How is that supposed to, um…fit?”

Steve couldn’t help but almost let out a laugh at the nervous look on your face. He tried to remain composed, grinning at you instead. “It’ll be okay. And if it hurts too much, we can stop, okay? You just have to let me know. I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable.”

You nodded, biting your lower lip as you gazed up at him through lowered lashes. He leaned down and kissed you deeply, his tongue delving into your mouth as his hand slid between your thighs once more. This time, when his fingers brushed against your folds, you were ready for him.

He stroked you slowly with one finger first, applying just the right amount of pressure to make you writhing beneath him. He then added a second finger, and then a third. Your moans filled the room as he explored your slick folds, his touch driving you closer and closer to the edge. He pumped his fingers in and out, making sure you were ready for him. He wanted to make this as painless as possible for you.

A soft moan escaped your lips as his fingers kept moving inside you, the wet sound of it only making the ache between your legs increase. Your eyes dropped to watch the motion of his hand, mouth parting at the sight. It was too much but in the best way. You let your eyes flutter shut, head falling back against the pillow as you let him continue.

You suddenly felt Steve lick a stripe up your pulsing heat. You gasped, opening your eyes to see his head between your thighs. He looked up at you as he stuck his tongue inside, lapping at your soaked core.

“You taste so sweet,” Steve murmured against you, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. The vibrations made your hips move on their own, grinding against his mouth. Your hand flew to his hair, fingers tangling as you tugged him closer. He groaned at the feeling, trying to match your pace as he continued exploring you with his tongue. When his nose bumped a particularly sensitive spot, a sharp whine escaped your throat. He froze instantly, lifting his head with concern etched into his features. “Did I hurt you?” He asked softly, eyes wide and apologetic.

“N–no,” your voice was quiet, and you could feel your cheeks grow warm. “It felt good.”

His frown turned into a relieved smile when he realized you were okay. He brought his fingers back, pressing gently against the spot that had made you gasp. This was all new for both of you, but Steve was determined to learn, to make it good for you. And now that he’d found what made you fall apart, he wasn’t about to let it go. He lowered his head again, his lips wrapping around your clit. When he began to suck softly, your back arched, a moan slipping out as your hand tightened in his hair, keeping him close.

The pressure in your core was building fast, your breaths coming out in soft, stuttering gasps as Steve’s mouth moved against you. He held you steady, his hands gripping your hips as if he didn’t want to let go. Your fingers were still in his hair, tugging him further into you as that wave of pleasure crept faster.

“Steve,” you whimpered, barely able to say his name. He didn’t stop, he just kept going, and it finally sent you over. Your eyes squeezed shut, head pressing back into the pillow as your body tensed, then melted beneath him. The sound of your moan filled the room, shaky and breathless, as the release swept through you. Steve looked up at you, his lips still parted and glistening with your slick. His eyes were wide, completely in awe. You opened your eyes slowly to meet his, still dazed.

“Was that okay?” He asked softly, his hands gently tracing along the insides of your thighs as he brought you back down to earth. You gave him a lazy, content smile and nodded, your heart still fluttering from the high. He leaned up to kiss you again, and you could faintly taste yourself on his lips, a reminder that made your cheeks flush and your legs instinctively press together at the image of him between them just moments ago. He then pulled away from your lips, leaving you aching for more. You whimpered in protest, your lips chasing him.

“Shh, just wait,” he murmured gently, his voice soothing as he settled between your legs. Just as he was about to continue, he paused, eyes going wide as he pulled back slightly. “Shit–I don’t have a condom. I never thought we were going to do this today.”

You stayed quiet for a second, your heart racing. You debated telling him the truth, but now wasn’t the time. Someday, when you were older and ready, you’d open up about everything. For now, a small white lie would have to do.

“We…don’t need one,” you said softly, watching his head snap up in surprise. “I’m on the pill.”

Steve blinked, confused. “Wait, really?” His brows furrowed as he tried to make sense of it. “I mean–is that, like…safe?”

You almost laughed at the look on his face, but you held it back. Shifting slightly, you closed your legs, suddenly feeling too exposed. “Yeah, it’s safe,” you reassured him, meeting his eyes. “My doctor put me on it…to help regulate my cycle.”

He still looked a little uncertain. Steve had never claimed to know much about girls’ bodies but he was still trying to learn. He didn’t push you though. What you said made enough sense for him and he trusted you with everything in him. His gaze dropped to your now closed legs and then back to your face. Gently, he placed a hand on your knee.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” He asked sincerely.

You nodded slowly, your cheeks warm. As he carefully parted your legs again, you swallowed your nerves and whispered. “Yes. Please.”

His eyes searched yours before leaning down and pressing a kiss to your forehead, his thumb brushing your cheek. “I promise I’ll be gentle,” he whispered. “We’ll go slow. If it’s too much, you just tell me, okay?”

You nodded, taking a deep breath as you prepared yourself. Slowly, he entered you, inch by inch until he was fully sheathed inside your tight heat. The sensation was unlike anything you had ever experienced before. It was a mix of pleasure and discomfort that made you tremble. You were grateful he had taken his time to prepare you. You gasped as he began to move, your fingers digging into his shoulders as you tried to adjust to the new feeling.

As he continued to thrust into you, the discomfort began to fade away, replaced by a building sensation of pleasure that threatened to consume you whole. You wrapped your legs around his waist, urging him to go deeper and faster.

He obliged, increasing his pace as he tried to get you to come before him. The room was filled with the sounds of your moans and the slap of skin against skin as he drove into you with more speed. His fingers went to your clit, gently rubbing the sensitive bud, making you cry out in pleasure.

You could feel your orgasm building again, your body tensing as the pleasure became almost too much to bear. You clutched at him desperately, your nails scratching down his back as you were so close to reaching your high.

“Don’t stop,” you gasped. “I’m so close.”

He groaned against your neck, his thrusts becoming sloppy as he neared his own climax. “F-fuck, where do you want me?”

You tried to answer but another moan fell out of you. Your hands clenched tightly on his shoulders, barely getting the word out. “I-inside.”

That one word was all it took for him to push into you one last time, sending both of you over the edge. Your orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave, your body shaking beneath him as wave after wave of pleasure washed through you. He followed at the same time, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he found his own release, spilling inside you.

For a moment, neither of you moved, content to just stay wrapped up in each other’s arms. Finally, he rolled off you and pulled you close, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“That was incredible,” he whispered. His eyes stayed locked on your face, full of longing.

You smiled up at him, your finger tracing lazy patterns across his chest. “Yeah, it really was,” you murmured, nuzzling closer.

He wrapped you tighter, tangling your legs together so there was nothing between you. He kissed the top of your head as your eyes fluttered closed.

He knew he’d have to leave soon since there was no telling when your mom would get home, but as he took in your peaceful face, all he wanted was to hold you like this forever.

After a while, you glanced at the abandoned flashcards across your desk. “Great. Now I’m definitely gonna fail this test.”

Steve shifted beside you, grinning as he trailed his fingers along your waist. “Impossible. Like I said, you’re literally the smartest person I know.”

You rolled your eyes. “Tell that to my chem grade after Monday.”

He leaned in, lips brushing your ear. “Honey, if tonight proved anything, it’s that our chemistry’s explosive.”

You blinked, then groaned. “Oh my God, Steve.”

“What?” He said, feigning innocence. “I’m just saying, we definitely bonded.”

You shoved his shoulder, trying not to laugh. “Stop!”

“Come on,” he said with a wink. “Don’t act like I didn’t rock your periodic table.”

You gave him a look. “Okay, now you’re banned from speaking until my exam is over.”

He gasped. “What?! That’s, like, two whole days!”

“Exactly. Suffer.”

ㅤ♡ ㅤ♡ ㅤ♡

•• @kirriririririri @djospresso

get added to my ST taglist

ㅤ♡ ㅤ♡ ㅤ♡

[neilissevered]

Hiii! Can i req a drabble for Baku again? Maybe fluffy and comforting Baku wherein he finds reader drunk (But reader doesn’t drink so it’s unusual for reader to be that way), and he just takes care of the reader?

Yk those ones who pull up their hair when they throw up, etc. U can experiment on this one I really don’t mind but that’s the gist of it!

- Anon 🧃 (I’ll send in as this one! I’m the one who first requested for Baku ❤️)

ˋ°•*⁀➷DRUNK ON YOU!

You got drunk for the first time. Hu-Min found you, stopped you from puking in a bush, carried you like a bride, and crashed on your couch like a man with morals. Drabble, whc2, reader has long hair, accidental confession, soft and flustered Hu-min Park Hu-min (Baku) x gn! reader wc: 1k+ tw: mentions of vomiting, but it's not descriptive. masterlist

The alcohol hits harder than expected.

You can tell… but at the same time, you can’t.

The world spins lazily around you, like it’s floating just out of reach. Your body feels weightless, but your head is filled with cotton, and your ears are ringing with a dull buzz. The shot glass in your hand is warm, slick, almost melting in your grip.

You don’t drink. Everyone knows that. You know that.

And yet, here you are—slumped against the back wall of a convenience store, half-hidden behind a row of boxes, nursing your second (or was it third?) bottle of soju like it’s a lifeline.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

You had other plans tonight—study a little, rest your brain, maybe even sleep early. But the week had chewed you up and spit you out, and with exams looming over your head like storm clouds, you cracked.

A bottle won’t kill me, you had thought.

Just this once.

You’d read the posts online. Those who said alcohol numbs the stress, softens the edges of a bad day, and makes things quieter, if only for a little while.

They weren’t wrong.

You feel… floaty. Unanchored. Like you’re laughing at nothing in particular—maybe at the absurdity of it all. Maybe just because it’s easier than crying.

Your phone buzzes again. For the fourth time in the last five minutes.

It's the group chat with the boys.

Bakutastic🏀: "seriously dumbass WHERE are u??" Si-genius: "you okay?" GoTank: "if you don’t reply, I’m tracking your phone. Not joking." JUNNIE💕💗🐰🐰🐰: "So…Baku ran off😭😭"

You stare at the screen, lips tugging into a crooked smile.

Always so worrisome, those three. Like they weren’t getting into fights every day.

You don’t reply. Not yet.

Right now, you just want to stay in this haze a little longer, where nothing matters, and everything feels far, far away.

Then suddenly—

A hand wrapped gently around your arm, pulling you out of the hazy fog you’d been drifting in. Before you could even process it, you were moving—

No… falling.

Straight into someone’s arms.

Warm. Steady. Familiar.

Hu-min.

He held you tightly, like he’d been holding his breath the whole time and could finally exhale. You felt the rise and fall of his chest, still a little frantic, like he’d been running. And he had searched every convenience store he knew you liked, desperate to find you.

And now he had.

He pulled back just enough to see your face, his hands coming up to cup your cheeks. His thumbs brushed gently against your skin, tapping lightly as if trying to wake you from a dream.

“Hey,” he murmured, worry tightening his voice, “you should’ve called me if you were planning to get drunk.”

A soft scolding, but his touch never left your face.

Then, with a small, helpless huff, he pinched your already flushed cheeks.

“Idiot,” he added, quieter this time. “What if I hadn’t found you?” His voice was a lot softer than usual.

You only hummed out in response. Smiling lazily up at Hu-min as your vision came in waves. He looked funny. You laughed, wrapping your arms around his waist as you grinned up at him

“Join me, Hu-min.”

“Are you seriously trying to ask me out right now?”

“They say it’s best to share soju with a lover!”

“You—“

Hu-min looked away. Face turning red at your very sudden, bold attitude. Your words were slurred, and you hiccuped with each syllable, but the way you were grinning up at him like a lovesick fool made your intentions pretty clear.

You just confessed. Accidentally…

“Okay, you’re completely drunk, and I’m teasing you about this in the morning.” He huffed, fixing your messy hair and your jacket that was slipping off one shoulder. 

You only laughed, almost falling further, but Hu-min already had an arm wrapped around your waist. Supporting your body with his while he walked back to your place.

Soju definitely worked with escaping your academics

Your relationship with Hu-min will, however, turn very interesting in the morning.

Hu-Min managed to get you home with surprisingly little trouble, which was impressive, considering you were leaning your entire weight against him like your legs had given up for the night. He tried to match your unsteady footsteps, but it was a lost cause. You kept wobbling unpredictably, veering into his side like a very affectionate shopping cart with one broken wheel.

Still, he held on, one arm locked tightly around your waist, the other hovering protectively in case you decided to face-plant into the sidewalk.

It was a quiet night. Just the crunch of gravel under your shoes, the soft buzz of faraway streetlights, and your off-key humming something vaguely familiar, possibly the theme song of a children’s show.

He should’ve been annoyed. Embarrassed, even. But all he could think about was the words you slurred earlier:

“They say it’s best to share soju with a lover!”

His ears were still burning.

Then—

“Hu-min. Hu-min.”

He blinked out of his thoughts. “Hm?”

“I think I need to vomit.”

“What.”

He came to a dead stop. Your apartment building was literally right there, glowing like a finish line in some twisted, drunken marathon — and you were about to throw up next to a shrub like a tragic K-drama extra?

“Hey—HEY! Keep your mouth shut!” he shouted, nearly tripping over his own feet as he scrambled to stop you from bending over the nearest bush. “Don’t even look at that hedge!”

You groaned. “But I’m dying.”

“No, you’re not! You’re just dramatic and full of bad decisions!”

You slumped harder into him, breathing through your mouth like a medieval damsel. He muttered a string of curse words under his breath, then looked up at the second-floor balcony of your building.

The elevator was out. Of course.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” he hissed to himself. Then, louder:

“Okay. This is happening.”

With a grunt, Hu-Min bent down, swept your legs up, and lifted you bridal-style into his arms. You yelped in surprise, then immediately wrapped your arms around his neck.

“Oh my god,” you giggled, voice muffled against his collarbone. “Are you finally sweeping me off my feet?”

“Shut up,” he huffed, already halfway up the stairs. “You’re literally seconds away from puking, and I’m saving your dignity. Barely.”

Your head lolled against his shoulder, but you looked up at him with that same dazed, lovestruck smile from earlier—the one that made his heart beat a little too fast.

“…You’re strong,” you murmured.

“Yeah, yeah.”

“You smell nice.”

“Do NOT throw up on me.”

He made it to your apartment door in record time, panting and slightly red-faced—though whether it was from physical exertion or your constant drunk compliments, even he wasn’t sure.

When he finally set you down, gently leaning you against the wall to unlock your door, you sighed dreamily and said, “This is the most romantic thing that’s ever happened to me.”

He snorted.

“Then your standards are tragically low.”

Finally, after some fumbling with your bag and a lot of muttering under his breath about why you carried five pens but no water, Hu-Min managed to fish out your keys. He nudged the door open with his shoulder and kicked it shut behind him, heading straight for the bathroom like a man on a mission.

He gently set you down by the sink, supporting your body with one hand while reaching for a towel with the other. Then, without a word, he grabbed your toothbrush, ran it under water, and squirted on your toothpaste like it was part of some practiced emergency routine.

You groaned and leaned forward, and he was already there, brushing your hair back from your face, gathering it in his hand like it was second nature. He held it gently but firmly, thumb stroking the back of your neck with a feather-light touch you were almost too drunk to notice.

“There,” he said softly, crouching a little to meet your eyes. “You’ll feel more sober once you rinse off.”

You blinked at him, swaying slightly as you stared at his face, all soft lines and furrowed brows and the kind of worry that couldn’t be faked. Before you could say anything else, though, you vomited into the sink, and Hu-min waited patiently for you to finish.

“You okay?”

“You’re reallyyyy good at this,” you mumbled, eyes half-lidded.

“At holding your hair while you puke?” he laughed 

You nodded slowly. “Mm-hmm. Husband material.”

He froze for half a second, toothbrush still in his hand. Then:

“Brush your teeth before you say stuff like that.”

But even as he said it, his ears turned pink again. It’s ridiculous how soft he gets with you. His voice turns down a notch, and instead of his loud and boisterous attitude, he can’t help but feel calmer and relaxed around you.

Hu-min stayed the entire time. He helped you brush your teeth and wash your face. 

“C’mon, your highness,” he grumbled as he gently steered you out of the bathroom, one hand on your back. “We’ll talk in the morning, when you’re more sane, okay?”

You dropped onto the mattress like a sack of potatoes, face-first. “You’re my favorite person.”

“That’s the soju talking.”

“Nooo,” you mumbled, voice muffled by your pillow. “The soju would never lie to you.”

Hu-min laughed under his breath, but it came out more fond than amused. He pulled the blanket up over your shoulders and gently tugged your tangled hair out from under your face.

Just as he stood to leave, you cracked one eye open and reached out lazily, catching the hem of his shirt.

“…Stay?”

He froze.

A beat passed.

“…No,” he said, more gently than expected. “You’re barely sober, I'll stay at your couch." He bent down, carefully swiping away stray strands of hair from your face.

You pouted. “But my bed’s cold.”

“I’ll turn up your heater dumbass” he laughed, prying your fingers off with great care.

You flopped back dramatically, already halfway to sleep again. “You’re no fun…”

“Righttt…” he muttered, walking out, “that’s definitely the problem tonight.”

He grabbed a spare blanket from your cabinet and made his way to your couch, shaking his head to himself as he lay down, arms behind his head.

Silence filled the room, broken only by your soft breathing.

Then— “…Hu-min?”

He groaned. “Yes, your highness?”

“…Don’t forget to dream about me.”

He stared at the ceiling. Then covered his face with the blanket.

“You’re so annoying.”

But under that blanket, he was smiling like an idiot.

an: Hello again, anon! I'm sooo sorry this took a while to post! Got a bit busy! But anyway, I feel like this scenario would also apply to a platonic relationship with Hu-min! (minus the romantic stuff, ofc) He's a really caring person and would definitely want to make sure his friends are okay when black out drunk.

[yoomiwrites]

Your colors

Summary: (fem) Reader sucks at makeup but luckily, Izou helps her to see her beauty.

Note: He is UNDERRATED. And I am so happy to write for so many underrated characters. It is mostly g/n but not fully, as a female reader was in mind for this.

A comfort one, so, remember my friends, YOU ARE PERFECT.

✦═════✦═════✦

You were never the type for delicate things.

Nail polish, lipstick, eyeliner — all those graceful, fine touches that seemed to come so easily to others, especially someone like Izou, always left you feeling clumsy and out of place. Smudges, crooked lines, shaky hands. You’d long accepted you weren’t “that” kind of woman.

But today... well, today you’d decided to try.

A little crush had bloomed in your chest, whether you liked it or not. One you were sure would never notice you unless you stood out a bit more — looked more polished, more... elegant.

Your attempt had gone about as well as expected: lipstick too uneven, your nails blotchy and full of streaks, your eyeliner an accidental battle scar more than a charming wing.

You were mid-frustrated sigh, perched on a crate, cotton pad smudging away another failed attempt, when a shadow fell across you.

“Having trouble, darling?”

That smooth, silk-soft voice could only belong to one man.

Izou.

You stiffened a little, caught like a child with her hand in the cookie jar. He stood there, poised as ever — perfectly applied makeup, the scent of something sweet and expensive lingering around him. A man made for grace.

You offered a halfhearted shrug, chewing your lip. “I wanted to... try something different.” You waved vaguely at your mess of beauty supplies. “But I’m no good at it.”

Izou tilted his head, a small smile curving his lips, both knowing and fond.

“Different?” he echoed, stepping closer, folding gracefully to sit beside you. “For who?”

Your throat tightened. “Just... wanted to look nice, that’s all.”

His eyes softened, though the teasing lilt never left his voice.

“Y/N, you’ve always been ‘nice’ to look at. But if you want a little help...” His fingers reached out, featherlight against your chin, tilting your face ever so slightly. “I’d be honored to assist.”

You hesitated, cheeks already warming. Letting him see you like this — vulnerable — felt far more intimate than you expected.

But Izou, as always, was gentle. His hands were steady, the soft brush of makeup over your skin like silk. He worked in comfortable silence, smoothing away imperfections without judgment, highlighting features you’d never thought much of.

When he finally leaned back, inspecting you with a slow, approving nod, you blinked at your reflection in the small hand mirror.

You looked... beautiful. Not like anyone else. Not like someone pretending to be graceful. Just you. Polished, but still you.

“See?” Izou murmured, voice like velvet. “It wasn’t about changing yourself. Just learning to show off what was already worth admiring.”

Your heart gave a traitorous little flutter, but before you could thank him, you noticed the smallest flicker of something in his expression. Something quiet.

Like maybe you weren’t trying to impress the right person at all.

You swallowed, lowering the mirror. “You’re good at this.”

His fingers brushed a stray hair from your face, lingering a little longer than necessary.

It wasn’t a confession. Not quite. But it was enough to leave your stomach in soft knots, and your lips a little too aware of how close he still sat.

“I’ve had practice,” he replied, the corner of his mouth tugging up. “And... I happen to like the subject.”

Neither of you spoke the words — but they lingered there, painted between you like the softest brushstroke.

But you couldn’t sleep.

The sun had long since dipped below the horizon, painting the sea in deep indigos and violet shadows. The crew had scattered for the night, the world around you gone quiet except for the soft lap of waves against the ship’s hull.

Not after earlier. Not after the way Izou had touched you — so gentle, so steady — or the way he’d said those words, lingering on the edges of a confession.

You found him on the upper deck, as expected, perched in his usual spot, tending to a small tray of nail polish bottles. His sleeves rolled neatly to his elbows, hair pinned back just enough to avoid falling into his eyes.

You lingered in the doorway for a moment before softly calling his name.

He glanced over, always poised, but his expression immediately softened when his gaze landed on you. “Can’t sleep, darling?”

You wandered closer, sitting beside him, curling your knees up to your chest. “Not really.”

A comfortable silence stretched between you, broken only by the sound of the tiny glass bottle clicking softly against the tray as he capped it.

You picked at the hem of your shirt, voice quieter now. “Earlier... when you said you liked the subject... did you mean me?”

His hands stilled. Just for a second. The only crack in that polished, graceful armor he wore so well.

His eyes slid sideways, studying you in the dim light, and his lips tugged into a slow, quiet smile. One of those rare, real ones — the kind that stripped away all the performative charm.

“I did.”

Simple. Honest. Heavy.

Your throat felt dry, but your heart fluttered like the sails catching wind. You looked away, flustered, but his fingers gently curled around yours, steady and warm.

“You never needed to change a thing, you know,” he added softly, brushing his thumb along the back of your hand. “I noticed you long before you ever thought to impress anyone.”

Your chest tightened, a laugh bubbling up unbidden — light, shaky, but genuine.

“You’ve always been better at hiding your feelings than me,” you mumbled, squeezing his hand.

Izou tilted his head, voice low and teasing, but there was a softness beneath it:

“Well, you’ve got a way of making me want to stop hiding.”

And before you could gather the nerve to say another word, his free hand lifted to your cheek, guiding you forward — his lips brushing against yours in the kind of kiss that was as careful as it was deliberate. Nothing rushed. Nothing messy. Just right.

When he pulled back, his smile returned, easy and a little smug, as if your flustered expression was exactly what he’d expected.

“See?” he whispered. “You were already perfect.”

[hartleychristopher]

Just a late night hot thot here about Chris being a total DILF!!!

He’d rock his dad bod💅🏼 he’s already so big and beefy😵‍💫

Yk his girl teases him so bad, loving that flustered awkward face of his whenever she calls him daddy. He only becomes more of a switch in bed after this cause like being whiny and developing a breeding kink…

He’s absolutely mortified when he overhears his bby girl’s friends start calling him one tho

#new anon🫶🏼

✮ DILF! Chris Headcanons ✮

May I present to you; Christopher “DILF” Hartley 🥵

Warnings: use of “daddy” (bc he is one), breeding k!nk, mdni 18+, switch!chris

★ the dad bod is top-tier! he’s still got his muscles—just wrapped in a layer of comfort, he’s built, but he will still finish off a plate of your kid’s abandoned Dino nuggets. A true sleeper build, looks squishy, but flexes and your panties basically poof off of your body. He’s still getting all the groceries in one trip and carrying a car seat with a baby in it like it’s nothing:

“You carried our baby. I’ll carry everything else.”

★ Calling him daddy is so fun because no matter how many times you do it he still gets flustered, cheeks get pink and he starts stuttering in that classic Chris way.

You’re handing him his dinner, perfectly plated, kissing his cheek “Here you go, daddy” you purr.

He stiffens, the tips of his ears turning pink and his brain malfunctioning as he stutters a “th-thank you, sweetheart.” Pushing his glasses up nervously, chewing thoughtfully.

★ Oh and in bed?? He’s so whiny. He’s also the biggest switch ever! that’s so real. He can go from pounding you into the mattress and sweetly teasing you to whining under you as you ride him, begging you to give him permission to cum like a polite but desperate thing.

★ But even if he’s being more subby he’s still got the breeding k!nk. Literally begging to fill you up:

“P-please—please baby can I?—can I come inside?? I’m so c-close—fuck I can’t hold it anymore, honey”

“Need to fill you—make sure you’re gonna give me another baby—”

“You will right, angel?? You’ll let me put another baby in you??”

★ Occasionally (often) says things like:

“Do you want another one? Because I swear to god, you keep looking at me like that and I will give you one.”

★ The Dilf comment from your friend makes him blush, but he’s secretly really prideful about it, he loves praise and attention and hearing that he’s hot never gets old, even if he turns red as a tomato when anyone refers to him as a dilf 🤭

“Did you hear what she said? I’m a DILF, babe. am I allowed to feel kinda honored? like should I… put that on a mug? Should I be dressing hotter??”

Later, you catch him flexing in the mirror while brushing his teeth, whispering:

“DILF. Damn right.”

<3

A/N: I love this anon! You guys are feeding my delusions 😵‍💫😵‍💫Sorry if you were looking for a full-fledged blurb, there was just a lot of points to hit so it was better for a more headcanon-type response!

taglist: @fritzhardt @avwade69 @maiiuelle @avrells @fordthegamelord819 @xoxocher @sweetcalebb @z0mb1epuzzy @dnpo1son

Wanna join my taglist? Click here!

[feedybot]

Plump happiness

It was a quiet Sunday morning, the kind where time seemed to stretch and settle like warm syrup. The kind of morning made for soft blankets and bare feet on hardwood floors. Anny stood in the kitchen, her loose t-shirt just barely brushing the curve of her hips as she reached for the coffee mugs. The fabric lifted slightly, revealing a tender swell of tummy beneath—rounder now than it used to be, a gentle softness she was still getting used to.

She caught a glimpse of herself in the darkened oven door. Her cheeks flushed, unbidden. She tugged the shirt down quickly, even though no one was watching—except Leo, who had been watching her like this more and more lately.

He didn’t say much when he entered the room, just came up behind her quietly, arms sliding around her waist. She stiffened for half a second, as always, until his fingers settled over the soft lower edge of her belly and he gave it a slow, affectionate squeeze.

“Morning,” he murmured into her neck.

“Morning,” she said, her voice breathy.

Anny didn’t know when exactly the changes had started. Maybe it was during those cozy winter months, when Leo insisted on baking every weekend and always made sure her plate was full. Or maybe even before that—when they’d moved in together and the world outside seemed less important than the warmth between them. What she did know was that her body had changed in small but certain ways. Her jeans fit tighter, her bras clasped further out, and she avoided sitting in his lap like she used to. But Leo never complained. Quite the opposite.

He held her longer now. Let his hands roam more. And it wasn’t just her hips or her thighs that he gravitated toward—it was her belly. Soft, pillowy, impossible to ignore.

She used to flinch when he touched it. Now she just blushed.

“You’re staring again,” she mumbled that evening, curled beside him on the couch, a bowl of popcorn balanced on her middle.

Leo smirked, lazily dragging a finger along the curve that peeked from under her cropped pajama top. “Can you blame me?”

She turned her face into his shoulder, hiding the blooming color in her cheeks. He chuckled and shifted closer, letting his palm settle fully over her stomach. It rose and fell beneath his touch—rounder now, fuller than it had ever been. She didn’t say anything when his hand lingered, tracing lazy circles, fingertips teasing the softest edges.

“I love this,” he whispered, just loud enough for her to hear.

Her heart skipped. “You do?”

“Mmhmm. Every part of you, but… this part especially.”

She didn’t know how to respond, so she just looked at him with wide, glassy eyes. Leo leaned in and kissed her temple. Then her cheek. Then, softly, the center of her belly.

Anny felt something melt inside her—shyness folding into quiet delight, into the warmth of being wanted just as she was, and maybe a little more than that. She reached for another handful of popcorn, smiling without meaning to. Maybe she wouldn’t pull her shirt down next time. Maybe she’d let him look a little longer.

And maybe… she wanted to see what would happen if she kept leaning into that softness.

Into him.

Into this.

*

The restaurant was warm and dimly lit, the kind of place where candles flickered in glass jars and every table was tucked into its own little nook. Anny had hesitated before they left the house—her dress, a soft burgundy knit, clung more than it used to. She’d tugged at it in the mirror, chewing her lip, unsure if she looked curvy or just overstuffed.

Leo had only smiled. “You look incredible.”

She blushed, as usual, and tried to smooth the fabric over her belly, which no longer sat flat. It gently pushed out in the front, plush and undeniable.

Their friends were already seated when they arrived, waving them over with a chorus of greetings. The food was rich and comforting—truffle risotto, garlic bread, small bites that kept arriving one after another. Anny wasn’t planning to eat so much, but every time she paused, Leo would gently slide something her way.

“Try this one,” he whispered once, hand brushing her knee under the table. “You’ll love it.”

And she did. Too much.

By the time dessert was being passed around, she felt full. Heavy. Her dress, once stretchy and forgiving, now pressed into her belly with visible tension. Sitting upright was a bit of a chore. She shifted discreetly in her chair, trying to relieve the pressure, but the hem lifted a little each time she moved, clinging tighter over her rounded middle.

Then came a soft, betraying sound.

Tkk.

It wasn’t loud—but Leo heard it. His eyes flicked to her waist, to where the side seam of the dress had begun to stretch too far. The thread hadn’t snapped fully… yet. But it would.

Anny froze, wide-eyed, her face going scarlet. She leaned into him slightly. “Leo…”

His hand was already on her thigh. Comforting. Protective.

“I know,” he said softly. Then louder, to the group: “Hey, sorry—Anny’s not feeling great. Think we’ll head out.”

There were a few sympathetic “aww’s” and offers to pay the bill, but Leo had already stood, guiding her out with a hand low on her back—just above where the dress clung to her fullest curve.

The night air was cool. As soon as they were alone, Anny let out a long, guilty sigh.

“I think it’s ruined,” she murmured, looking down at her stretched middle. “This dress can’t take much more.”

Leo leaned close, lips brushing her ear.

“I know,” he said again. “Let it.”

By the time they got home, she was too full to stand up straight. Her belly jutted out in front of her, tight and round and barely contained. Leo helped her out of her coat and stepped behind her, fingers sliding to the side of her dress.

Another soft sound—tkkk-pop—as one of the seams gave way entirely.

“Oh,” she gasped, startled.

Leo’s hands moved slowly over her sides, then front and center, cupping the swell of her belly. He kissed the back of her neck. “There she is.”

“I… I really overdid it tonight,” she whispered.

“Mmhmm. You looked so beautiful doing it, too.” His voice was low, reverent.

She leaned into him, flushed and full and quietly thrilled. “You really don’t mind?”

“I told you,” he murmured, lips now on her bare shoulder. “I love this part of you. Every soft, greedy, blushing inch.”

And then, gently, he helped her out of the dress. Or rather—he let it give up entirely.

It slithered down her body in defeated surrender, leaving her in nothing but a stretched pair of underwear and the fullness she carried.

He kissed her belly then. Slowly. Thoroughly.

And Anny, blushing fiercely but glowing inside, finally let herself enjoy it.

*

He led her by the hand, wordlessly, fingers laced with hers like he was guiding something precious. Anny moved slowly, her belly taut and sensitive, swaying gently with each careful step. Leo didn’t rush her. He watched the way her hips rocked, how her soft thighs brushed together, how the waistband of her underwear pressed a faint line into the gentle curve beneath her navel.

Once in the bedroom, she paused, arms folded across her front—half an attempt to hide herself, half an instinct she still hadn’t shed.

Leo stepped behind her again, wrapping his arms around her middle, resting his chin lightly on her shoulder. “You don’t have to do that,” he whispered.

She let her arms drop slowly.

He reached down and gave her belly the lightest squeeze—reverent, adoring.

Then he bent low, crouching in front of her like he was worshiping at an altar. His hands cradled her belly from underneath, lifting it slightly to feel its weight. She gasped quietly at the sensation.

“So full,” he murmured, almost to himself. “So round. You don’t even realize how beautiful you are like this.”

Anny whimpered, cheeks burning. “I feel huge…”

He kissed the center of her belly, slow and deep. “You are.”

She should have felt ashamed—but something in his voice made her tremble instead. She was too full to lie down flat, so Leo helped her onto the bed, stacking pillows behind her back until she could recline comfortably. She settled with a soft sigh, hands resting on her taut middle.

Leo climbed in beside her, shirt off, warm skin against hers. He pressed one hand over the rise of her stomach, rubbing slow, lazy circles. The pressure was just enough—gentle, soothing. Intimate.

She moaned quietly, half from relief, half from the way his touch sent heat rolling through her. “You don’t have to…”

“I want to,” he said. “Let me take care of you.”

He kissed the side of her belly, nuzzled the crease where it pooled slightly to one side. Then her hip. Her arm. Her flushed cheek. All the places she tried to hide, he loved most.

For a long time, there was nothing but the soft sound of their breathing and his palm gliding slowly across her swollen middle. Her eyes fluttered shut, but she didn’t sleep—not really. She was too aware of the way he touched her, the way he looked at her. Like she was art. Like every added curve was something he’d been waiting for.

When she finally whispered, “You like me like this… don’t you?”—he didn’t hesitate.

“I love you like this.”

Her breath caught.

“You feel safe with me,” he continued, his hand never leaving her belly. “And it shows. I see it in how you soften… how you grow.”

Anny bit her lip, cheeks warm, belly full and heavy beneath his touch. “I want more,” she admitted, barely audible.

Leo smiled against her skin.

“Then I’ll give you more,” he said, voice velvet-smooth. “More of everything.”

And he kept rubbing, caressing, kissing… until she fell asleep in his arms—blushing, full, adored.

*

Leo wasn’t gone long—just eight days for a work conference across the state. But to Anny, it felt longer. The bed had felt colder without him. The house too quiet. So she kept herself busy. Cooking. Snacking. Napping. Grazing through the afternoons in soft, stretched-out clothes that no longer covered what they used to. She didn’t weigh herself. She didn’t need to.

She felt it. Every morning, every time she stood up or caught her reflection.

She filled out the space around her now—plush, pillowy, slow-moving. She’d grown. There was no denying it.

And she was excited for him to see.

Leo opened the door just after sunset, dropping his bag and calling her name before he even stepped out of the entryway. “Anny? I’m home!”

“In the bedroom,” she called back, voice light, musical.

He walked in and stopped cold.

She was on the bed, propped up against a stack of pillows, wearing a soft bralette and high-waisted lounge shorts that had long since surrendered to the fullness of her middle. Her belly spilled over the waistband, round and swollen and proud. Her arms rested against her sides, too short now to fully wrap around the impressive arc of her stomach. She looked… glorious. Embarrassed and glowing. Plump and flushed. And completely, radiantly full.

“Hi,” she said, biting her lip.

Leo blinked. Then blinked again. “You… you were busy.”

Anny gave a shy giggle and rubbed her hand along her belly’s upper curve. “I missed you.”

He walked to the side of the bed slowly, reverently, like approaching something sacred. “You… grew.”

“I know.”

“Like… a lot.”

She flushed deeper, not looking at him directly. “I couldn’t stop. I didn’t want to.”

Leo’s breath caught in his throat as he reached down and cupped the underside of her belly in both hands. It was heavy. Firm. So much more than before.

“Oh, baby,” he whispered. “Look at you.”

She let her head fall back against the pillows, arms flopping to her sides, legs parted slightly to make room. “I really can’t suck it in anymore. Not even a little.”

He leaned down, kissing a stretch mark just below her navel. “Don’t you dare try.”

“I can’t even reach anymore,” she added, half laughing, half groaning as she demonstrated. Her arms moved awkwardly around the sides of her belly, but they couldn’t meet across the front. “I’m just… here now.”

Leo stood, eyes dark with awe. “You’re perfect.”

She pouted. “I’m starving, though. All this belly and nothing in it.”

He smirked. “Say no more.”

Fifteen minutes later, Leo returned with a tray—fettuccine alfredo, warm bread, a bowl of strawberries, and a tall glass of milk. He set it on the nightstand, then climbed onto the bed beside her. “Open,” he said gently, picking up the first bite.

She did. And then the next. And the next.

Her hands stayed on her belly, stroking it as she ate, feeling it expand—bit by bit, bite by bite—stretching tighter, higher. She moaned softly at intervals, breath hitching as she shifted. But she didn’t stop. And Leo, ever patient, fed her slowly, rhythmically, eyes never leaving her body.

“You’ve gotten so big, sweetheart,” he murmured between mouthfuls. “I could watch you eat like this forever.”

Anny groaned, rubbing her side. “I don’t know how much more I can take…”

He leaned in, kissed her deeply. “Yes, you do. Just a little more.”

She let him guide her. Let him keep going.

By the time he set the tray down again, her belly looked impossibly stretched—round and high and wide, rising above her like a monument. She tried to sit up, whimpering at the effort. “Leo, I can’t…”

He was already there, pressing her gently back into the pillows, hands firm but loving. “Don’t. Stay right here. Let me help.”

He climbed beside her again, wrapping one arm under the crest of her belly and the other around her shoulder, holding her in place while he nuzzled her ear.

“You’re so full,” he whispered. “So helpless. So mine.”

Anny’s whole body trembled. “I’ve never been this stuffed before…”

“You’re beautiful,” he said, kissing her cheek, her jaw, her shoulder. “So soft. So heavy. I’ve never seen you like this—and I’ve never wanted you more.”

She couldn’t stop smiling, even as her body ached from fullness. “What happens now? Do you think I’ll get even bigger?”

Leo smiled into her neck. “Oh, I know you will.”

Anny blushed again, hiding her grin behind her hand.

“Can’t wait,” he whispered.

And he meant it.

Because loving her had always been easy. But loving more of her—watching her let go, soften, surrender—was something he would never get tired of.

[midnightquips]

That Old Feeling

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: It's been years since you've seen Bucky Barnes. You didn't plan to see him, but he definitely didn't look surprised to see you. Something's different, though. The looks. The heat. Maybe it's always been there. Maybe... you've just been too blind to see it before.

Themes: AU Thunderbolts, teasing officemates, possessive Bucky, friend's ex, Thunderbolts chaos (a consistent theme), friends-to-lovers, college crush so pining

🔴 MINORS DNI 🔴 Warnings: 18+ content, eventual smut, dirty talk, praise kink, soft aftercare, pwp, piv sex, unprotected sex

💫 That Old Feeling Masterlist 📌 Sign Up for TAGLIST

Chapter 2

Part I – Not Like That

You wake up with your legs tangled in sheets and your brain foggy with heat. For a split second, you can’t remember why your thighs ache, why your lips feel swollen, or why your chest is tight like someone’s still pressing you to a door.

And then you remember — Bucky.

His mouth. His hands. The whispers, “You feel so good,” right before he slipped his fingers beneath the hem of your dress.

You sit up with a strangled noise, cheeks on fire.

“Fuck.”

You bury your face in your hands, groaning into your palms like it might smother the memory. But it doesn’t. It plays on loop. The breathy moans you swore weren’t yours, the quiet grunt in his throat when his hand slid up your thigh, the way he looked at you like you were some kind of answer to a question he’d asked a long time ago.

What the hell were you doing?

You hadn’t even liked him in college. He was Claire’s annoying fling, boyfriend, whatever. The one who left beard trimmings in the sink and hogged the shower after gym days. You bickered constantly. It was practically your love language. And now you’re… what? Soft for him? Flustered?

No. You need a reset. Coffee. Distance.

You grab your phone. A single message waits for you.

Bucky Barnes: Had fun last night. Hope I didn’t cross a line.

You stare at the screen, then start typing.

You: It was fine. Just tequila and nostalgia. Let’s not make it weird.

You delete it. You try again:

We were just caught in a moment. We’re good.

Delete. You groan in frustration. 

Eventually, you just leave it on read and toss your phone to the other side of the bed like it burned you. Coward.

Yelena calls before your first cup of coffee is even ready. You stare at the screen and consider ignoring it. She FaceTimes anyway because you know she knows you can’t be ignoring her like that. You only answer because you don’t want her showing up at your apartment.

Her face appears immediately, smug and glowing. “So…?”

“So what?” One of your eyebrows raised

She cocks her head. “Don’t play coy. Did you or did you not make out with the man that’s been eye-fucking you the whole night?”

You scoff. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Bitch.”

You sip your coffee nonchalantly. “Nothing happened.”

“Then why can’t you look at me?”

Your eye twitches. “You’re insane.”

She shrugs. “You’re glowing. Your tits are smug.”

“They can’t be smug.”

“They can, and they are.”

You sigh in surrender. “It was just a kiss.”

“Just a kiss?”

“Yelena—” You regret too late.

“Oh my God, was he good?”

“Goodbye.” You hang up before she starts demanding positions and detailed analysis.

You ride to work with Bob that morning because your car is blocked in again and your downstairs neighbor hates you. Bob doesn’t ask questions at first. He hums along to an old Avril Lavigne song and chews gum like it owes him money.

But as soon as he parks outside the office, he turns off the ignition and goes, “So. Did Bucky pin you against the door last night or what?”

You make a choking sound so loud he slaps your back like you’re dying.

“BOB. What the hell—”

“Yelena told me to ask.” He shrugs as if it’s enough of an explanation.

You are all under this woman’s control apparently.

“I’m going to kill her.” You muttered.

“She says you made out. Like, aggressively.”

You bury your face in your hands again. “I don’t know where she got those adjectives. I told her it was just a kiss.”

“Okay, but like, regular kiss or ‘should I have worn better underwear’ kiss?”

You shake your head and throw the car door open.

“Not answering that.”

“You’re blushing! Oh my God, he did—”

You slam the door shut before he finishes the sentence.

You make it exactly thirty-five steps into the office kitchen before you crash into Bucky. Literally. You round the corner, balancing your travel mug and a banana, and collide with a broad, too-warm chest that smells like cedarwood and sin. Your banana falls to the floor in slow motion.

“Oh,” he says, blinking down at you. “Hey.”

You try to breathe like a normal person but seemingly fail.

“Hi,” you say. Your voice cracks. You clear your throat. “Morning.”

He looks unsure for a moment then smiles, softly. “Didn’t think I’d see you this early.”

“I work here.”

He chuckles. “Right.”

You bend down to grab the banana and will your face not to combust. When you rise, he’s still watching you like you’re the best part of his day. It almost infuriates you. Almost.

“Don’t look at me like that,” you mutter.

“Like what?” He smiles confidently

“Like you’re remembering what my moan sounds like.”

He coughs. Loudly. His neck turns red.

“Can’t help it,” he says under his breath. “It’s a really good sound.”

You blink and stare at him. Your stomach clenches. You push past him, straight into the hallway.

You spend the next four hours deep in spreadsheets and pretending that Bucky Barnes doesn’t exist.

It almost works. Until Yelena IMs you at 2:34 p.m.

Yelena: sooooooo Yelena: u turn on? Yelena: u mad? Yelena: u in love?

You roll your eyes and block her for now. But you’re starting to consider you might need a new job. Or a new country. 

Or maybe what you really need is just another kiss, just to make sure it wasn’t a fluke. You shake your head to get rid of the idea because it’s exactly why you can’t let yourself have it.

Taglist: @enchantingwitchballoon @emilyswortwellen @tellybearryyyy @kiatjuddae @Luannastylinsonlupin @OtterlyCanadian @winchestert101 @bxtchboy69 @biggestfangirl @luannastylinsonlupin @Sebastians-love @fveapplestall @snhoe @ruexj283 @avengersfan25 @in-omn1a-paratus @avengemepercy

[ayunas-tuna]

two for the show ━━ 3.1k ˚ series chp2

part of 𝒪𝘯𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘺, 𝓣𝘸𝘰 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘸 ౨ৎ⋆˚｡⋆

summary - after a kiss on your cheek in the middle of campus, things start to shift between you and jungkook. what was supposed to be a fake relationship feels a little too real, and neither of you knows how to handle it. you both avoid the tough conversations, trying to keep the act going, but the silence only grows heavier. finally, when you walk him home, the walls break down. this is way more than pretending now.

　　 　˳ 　 　౨౿　　⁺　　༄　　　༝　 　 ₊

you knew it was getting out of hand the second he kissed your cheek in the middle of the quad.

not like, a stage kiss. not like, “we’re definitely pretending and this is for the audience” kind of kiss. just casual. instinctive. like he forgot the whole thing was fake.

you were halfway through a sentence about your lit assignment. you’d just made some stupid joke about your professor being allergic to joy, and he laughed, real and full, and then just leaned in and kissed your cheek without thinking. warm, quick, soft. then went back to sipping his iced americano like it meant nothing.

and maybe it didn’t mean anything.

maybe you were the only one whose stomach flipped. maybe he didn’t notice the way your voice caught after or how you had to blink a couple times before you remembered how to talk.

you didn’t say anything. you couldn’t. not without making it weird.

so you just pulled your sleeves down over your hands, cleared your throat, and tried to pretend like your face wasn’t on fire.

he didn’t look at you again after that. not really. not until you were walking back to class and he brushed his pinky against yours.

and didn’t pull away.

“you’ve been quiet,” jungkook said later, nudging your knee under the table.

you were both sitting on the grass behind the library, half-eaten sandwiches in your laps and two empty juice boxes between you. the sky was that soft kind of blue that only shows up when you’re supposed to be doing something else.

you blinked at him. “i’m always quiet.”

he gave you that look. the one he only used when he wasn’t buying your bullshit. “not with me.”

you shrugged and took another bite of your sandwich, chewing slowly just to avoid talking.

he waited. didn’t push. just sat there, knee against yours, looking at the clouds like they were more interesting than the fact that you were very obviously spiraling.

after a minute, you sighed and muttered, “you kissed me.”

“...yeah?”

“like. for real.”

he glanced over. “i didn’t think it was a big deal.”

“that’s the problem,” you said, a little sharper than you meant to. “you never think it’s a big deal.”

he sat up straighter. “okay. what’s going on?”

you shook your head. looked anywhere but him. “i don’t know. i think i’m just… confused.”

he was quiet. so quiet. and you hated it. hated that he was letting you talk but not giving you anything back. hated that you were the one catching feelings for something that was literally your idea. this was your fault. you were the one who said no feelings. no real kisses. no anything.

and then he went and kissed your cheek like it meant something. like you meant something.

it wasn’t fair.

“we’re faking it,” you said, trying to sound level. “and it’s starting to feel real. and i don’t know what to do with that.”

“do you want to stop?”

you hated how fast your stomach dropped at that. “...no.”

he nodded slowly. looked down at his hands.

“me neither.”

and maybe that should’ve been comforting. but it wasn’t.

because neither of you said what you wanted instead.

he doesn’t look at you after that.

not in a dramatic way, just… quieter. less direct. like if he looks too long, he might say something he shouldn’t. like you both might.

you sit in silence for a bit. the grass itches behind your knees, your throat feels dry, and the sandwich in your lap is somehow still untouched. you keep glancing at him out of the corner of your eye, waiting for him to crack a joke or change the subject or even just do something stupid to break the weirdness hanging in the air.

he doesn’t.

instead, he leans back onto his elbows, gaze fixed on some point in the distance. you wonder what he’s thinking. if he’s regretting it. if he’s already planning how to pull away without making you feel bad.

your chest tightens.

“i don’t want to ruin this,” you say, quieter now.

he blinks. glances over. “what?”

you stare down at your hands. “whatever this is. i don’t wanna make it weird.”

“you didn’t.”

you look at him. “jungkook-”

“you didn’t,” he repeats, voice more certain this time. “it’s not weird. i just… i don’t know how to do this either.”

you nod slowly. you believe him. that’s the worst part.

he’s not faking it as well as he thinks he is.

his foot nudges yours gently. “we’re still good, right?”

you hesitate. then nod.

“yeah. we’re good.”

you don’t feel good. you feel like your heart’s on a timer.

you don’t talk much the rest of the afternoon.

he walks you to your next class like usual. keeps close to your side, says hi to someone you don’t recognize, holds the door open for you and mumbles something about meeting up later for that “photo op” thing he mentioned earlier in the week. something casual. something for the feed. “soft couple vibes.”

you just nod and say sure.

he doesn’t try to hold your hand this time.

you don’t know why it’s that moment. the quiet click of the lecture hall door behind you, the way the air changes when he’s not next to you, but your eyes burn and you sit down two rows from the back and suddenly want to cry.

you don’t. obviously. you just sit there and stare at your blank notes and pretend like the ache in your chest is just from lack of sleep. pretend like you’re not thinking about the kiss that wasn’t even a kiss and how it still meant too much.

you’re the one who made the rules.

you’re the one who said no feelings.

you’re the one breaking them.

two hours later, he’s waiting outside the building, leaning against the wall with his hoodie pulled over his head and headphones hanging around his neck. he doesn’t say anything when you walk up, just pushes off the wall and starts walking beside you.

you don’t know if he’s mad or just trying to give you space.

either way, it sucks.

“are we still doing the photo thing?” you ask, voice too casual.

he glances over. “do you want to?”

you shrug. “doesn’t matter.”

he stops walking.

you stop too, confused. “what?”

he just looks at you.

not annoyed. not even frustrated. just… like he’s trying to read you. like he’s trying to figure out if you’re about to break this whole thing wide open.

“it does matter,” he says.

you don’t answer.

he waits another beat, then runs a hand through his hair and sighs.

“i’ll text you later,” he says, not unkindly.

you nod.

he walks the other way.

you hate how cold your hand feels once he’s gone.

when you check your phone later that night, there’s a picture.

a blurry one. the one he took last week, under that tree near the arts building. your face is half-lit, your hand holding the smoothie cup, a little smile tugging at your lips as you look down.

you don’t even remember smiling that day.

under the photo, he’s typed:

i was gonna post this tonight. but only if you’re cool with it. lmk.

your chest does that thing again. the thing that feels like guilt and softness all tangled into one.

you type out a response and delete it.

then type another.

you end up just sending:

it’s cute. post it.

three minutes later, it’s up.

captioned: my favorite person.

the comments blow up instantly.

you turn off your phone.

you don’t sleep for a long time.

you wake up feeling worse than when you fell asleep. your mouth is dry, your eyes puffy, and your phone buzzes softly somewhere under your pillow like it knows you don’t want to look. but you check it anyway. the post is still up. jungkook’s account. that blurry photo from the coffee shop, the one where you’re smiling at something off-camera with his jacket draped over your chair. captioned, still, my favorite person. almost five hundred likes, three dozen comments. 

omg stop.

is this real?? 

cutest couple on campus hello??? 

i knew it. 

you don’t reply to any of them. you don’t even like the post. and for some reason, that makes your stomach twist worse.

you lie in bed a while longer, then sit up and drink water, trying to ignore the heavy silence in your room. around noon, he texts.

hey wanna meet before class?

you stare at it. you want to say no. you want to say yes. you want to say what did that post mean? or why are you making this feel so real? or maybe just please don’t make me fall for you if you’re not going to catch me.

but you don’t say any of that. you just reply: sure.

he meets you outside like always, standing under that tree that’s barely started turning yellow, kicking at a leaf like it wronged him personally. when he sees you, his face softens.

“hey.” you nod. 

“hey.” he holds out a drink without asking. it’s your usual. you take it and sip. it’s perfect.

the silence stretches, but not in a terrible way. more like both of you are thinking too much to speak.

“so,” he says after a while, “did you hate the post?”

you shake your head. “no. it was fine.” he looks at you. you don’t meet his eyes.

“you didn’t like it.”

“i saw it.”

“not what i said.”

you press your lips together. you want to explain. you want to say i didn’t like it because i didn’t know what it meant. or i was scared that if i liked it, it’d make it real. or i wanted to, but then i thought about your ex seeing it and maybe it wasn’t about me at all. but you just shrug. “i was tired.”

he doesn’t push. he never does. and that’s part of the problem.

you walk to class together again. his hand swings a little too close to yours the whole time, but he doesn’t reach for it. you kind of wish he would. you kind of wish he wouldn’t.

the tension is different now. heavier. quieter. not playful like before.

and all through class, you keep waiting for him to say something else. to make a joke. to nudge your arm. to just look at you like he used to. but he doesn’t. you both just sit there, pretending everything’s fine. pretending it didn’t mean anything. pretending you’re not unraveling a little more every time he breathes.

when class ends, you gather your stuff too fast and almost spill your pen case. he catches it, hands it to you without a word. your fingers brush. you flinch. not because you didn’t want it, but because you wanted it too much. you mumble a thank you. he nods.

“you okay?” he asks.

you look at him. really look. he’s not doing the smile thing anymore. the one where he pretends not to notice how close you’re sitting. the one where he flirts just enough to keep you guessing. he just looks tired. like maybe he didn’t sleep either. like maybe he’s trying not to ask the same questions you are.

and maybe you should answer him. maybe you should say no. maybe you should say i’m not okay, and i haven’t been since you started making this feel real. but instead, you say, “yeah. just tired.”

and he says, “me too.” then you both walk out of the building side by side, not touching.

you step outside and the cool air hits your skin like a sudden jolt. the sky is heavy with gray clouds that promise rain, and it feels like everything around you is rushing forward while you’re frozen in place. jungkook walks beside you, his hands buried deep in the pockets of his hoodie, his pace slow and steady. the silence between you isn’t uncomfortable or awkward. it’s filled with the weight of everything you both want to say but don’t know how to start.

you glance at him sideways, stomach twisting, but he keeps his eyes fixed ahead, like looking at you might make this all too real. you wonder if he’s thinking about the same things, how pretending to be okay is becoming impossible, how the line between what’s fake and what’s real is blurring. you want to reach out, to close the space growing between you, but your hands feel heavy and unsure.

finally, your voice breaks the silence, barely above a whisper. “do you think this is gonna get easier?”

he breathes out slowly, like he’s been holding it in for far too long. “honestly, no.”

you almost laugh, because you know exactly what he means. this whole fake relationship thing was supposed to be simple, even fun. but it’s not. it’s complicated and messy and it hurts more than you thought it would.

“then why do you keep doing it?” you stop and turn to face him. “if it’s this hard, why not just walk away?”

he looks at you, really looks, and there’s something raw in his eyes that makes your chest tighten. “because even if it’s hard, it’s better than being alone.”

you swallow hard. part of you wants to argue that being alone isn’t so bad. but deep down you know he’s right. the quiet moments when he’s next to you, even wrapped in silence and hesitation are better than the emptiness that used to swallow you whole.

you take a small step closer, heart pounding. “i’m scared,” you admit, voice trembling. “scared that this fake thing is gonna turn real and i won’t know what to do.”

his fingers brush against yours gently, like he’s afraid to hold on too tightly. “then we figure it out together.”

you don’t say anything, just let his words settle over you. even though the future feels scary and uncertain, you realize you don’t want to face it without him.

then the rain starts, soft and steady, and you both laugh like it’s your little secret. you don’t pull away when he slides his hand fully into yours. it’s warm and steady, and for the first time in a long time, you don’t feel so far apart.

you walk side by side down the quiet street, the city lights flickering above you and casting long shadows on the pavement. the night air is cool and crisp, and the occasional distant hum of cars blends with the soft sound of your footsteps. jungkook’s hand brushes against yours, and without thinking, you reach out and lace your fingers through his.

he glances over with that small, easy smile that’s been growing on you more than you want to admit. “so, this is happening,” he says quietly, like testing the waters.

you shrug, a little breathless. “guess it is.”

you don’t say much after that, letting the silence settle comfortably between you. walking with him feels less like pretending and more like something real, something you both haven’t dared to admit yet. your heart pounds, a little faster with every step.

when you get to your building, you fumble with your keys for a moment before the door swings open. jungkook steps inside behind you, the smell of rain mixing with the faint scent of your apartment. you kick off your shoes and lean against the door, your fingers still tangled with his.

he pulls off his hoodie and drops it on the back of a chair, the damp fabric soft in the dim light. the space suddenly feels smaller, warmer. your breath catches when he steps closer, eyes locked on yours, like he’s waiting for something.

“want some coffee?” you ask, your voice quieter than you expected.

he nods, following you to the kitchen. you start the kettle, the sound of water filling the silence. when you pour the coffee, your hands brush, and that spark you’ve been ignoring flares up again.

you bring the mugs to the small table and sit close enough that your knees touch. jungkook’s fingers find yours, squeezing gently. the warmth from him seeps into your skin, making it impossible to focus on anything else.

“this feels different,” you say, barely above a whisper.

“yeah,” he agrees, voice low and steady. “it does.”

you look up, catching the way his eyes soften when they meet yours. without thinking, you lean in, closing the small gap between you. his lips are warm and tentative at first, brushing against yours like a question. then the kiss deepens, slow and sure, like he’s telling you everything without saying a word.

your hands move up to cup his face, fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer. your chest tightens, and the world outside fades away until there’s only him and you, tangled together in the quiet glow of your apartment.

when you finally pull apart, your foreheads rest together, breaths mingling in the small space between you. a smile tugs at your lips, and you feel something fragile and beautiful shift between you.

he whispers, “i’m glad i came here tonight.”

you squeeze his hand, heart pounding. “me too.”

you sit there for a moment longer, just breathing him in, feeling his heartbeat under your fingertips. the world outside your window keeps moving, distant sirens, the occasional car passing by. but here, it’s still. suspended. safe.

he shifts closer, like there’s a gravity between you pulling him in, and you don’t resist. his hands settle on your waist, steady and sure, anchoring you. you can feel the warmth radiating from him, seeping into the space between your bodies.

“i don’t want this to be just fake anymore,” he murmurs, voice low and rough, like he’s afraid of breaking the fragile quiet.

you look up, eyes searching his, and for once, you don’t have an answer. all the pretending, all the rules you made to keep your heart safe, they don’t matter now. none of it feels real except this moment, this closeness, and the way your chest feels like it might burst.

without thinking, your lips find his again, softer this time, slower. the kiss deepens, and it’s no longer about games or plans or revenge. it’s about two people who somehow found something worth holding onto in the mess.

he pulls back just enough to rest his forehead against yours, breath mingling. “stay,” he says simply.

you don’t need to say anything. you already know you won’t be letting go

ribbon banner creds - @cursed-carmine

[n0t-evenhere]

Heeyyy✂✂✂

What if MC makes fun of Rays age just to get bullied back

What if MC wants to have sex during their period

What if MC has benadryl to get high

What if MC and ray has 3 kids and every day MC wakes up to their youngest in a frog dress and their heels just to yell "WHERE TF IS YOUR DADDY AT"

What if MC is a messy eaterWhat if MC has cheek tunnels

What if MC has a humping kink and humps rays pillows and even his leg, door pillow Teddy's etc

What if MC is scared of black coffee and other things like noodles, square pizza etc and tries to hit these different things out of his hand😼 with a NO!

Byeeee✂✂✂

Heyyyy frien :>

1. Honestly, just sounds like good old banter to me. Old man jokes in turn for teasing from him.

MC: “You are sooo old going out like that in high socks and candles with the buckle combo.”

Ray: “and you have no room to talk. Dressed up in that bubble bee black and yellow combo.”

MC: “…”

Ray: “…”

MC: “Touché”

2. I’m mean, I’m a bit torn between this one. Cause on one hand, he could because he loves you enough to do so. At the same time, I’m my head he is very neat and clean, not a heavy germaphobe but leaning. Either way, I think he’s still entertain the idea since factually it can help relive the pain because of the pressure and the stimulation and what not.

3. Similar to when drugs and weed was brought up, he can’t have that. You are irreplaceable, you arent super human. He needs you to be healthy, he doesn’t want you to be hurt in any way form or fashion. No less by your own hand. Forget it!

4. You look at Ray with tired a d annoyed eyes. Slaps him on the chest.

MC: “wake up.”

Ray: *groggy.* “ugh, what?”

MC: “did you hear what our kids just said?”

Ray: “no?”

MC: *leans in close.* “I told you not to cuss in from of the kids you dimwit.”

Ray: *Ray still trying to wake up.* “uhhh…sorry?”

5. Cheeks tunnels are interesting, but sometimes I wonder if Ray would have an option on them being negative because he was raised it a ‘no piercings’ policy. Even through he got them…it seem like Ray was talking about it as if it were a stupid teen rebellion thing. It makes me wonder because it’s probably nailed into his brain that what is deemed “excessive” piercings are unacceptable. 🤔 as for messy earring, if you get sauce on your shirt, or a little ranch on your lip. He’s good with it. However, do NOT. CHEW WITH YOUR MOUTH OPEN! Ray is as I see it, a decently well mannered man. Proper if you will. No he doesn’t want to “sea food.”

6. Hmm, I don’t know about this one chat. I think he may be more into thigh riding which may be in the same group. Idk.

7. Ray: *with a frown looking at the pizza he just made on the floor.* “I just made that for you…”

MC: “yuck, that’s nasty!” *a frown and pout on their face.*

Ray: *looks up at you.* “You’re not a fucking child. Get it together. I used home made ingredients for that.”

He’d def be salty about that, don’t insult this mans cooking. 😔

[zappedbyzabka]

Talking like the evil stepmother in a kid’s movie