#This started in my notes app and I had to move it to a word doc

[mattsmadness]

What He Comes Home To

Pairing: Clark Kent x Reader

Summary:

When Clark Kent invites his coworkers over for supper, all he wants is for them to love his sweet, small-town wife; he just hopes they overlook the Superman decor she forgot to take down.

Tags/Warnings: established relationship, Clark being cute, pre-Superman2025 Superman decor

WC: 5k

A/N: After seeing the new Superman movie, I couldn't not start writing from Clark Kent fics! I hope everyone enjoys my first fic on this app!

Clark Kent had wrestled alien warlords, flown through meteor storms, and defused a thermonuclear device at the bottom of the ocean...twice, but nothing made his palms sweat like the idea of his coworkers coming over for dinner.

Real dinner. Not catered. Not some rooftop debrief with takeout boxes and files. A Southern supper cooked by his wife in their apartment.

Their new apartment, to be specific. The one he and his wife had moved into just four weeks ago when they left their small-town home behind to finally, fully step into city life. Or rather, she had stepped in. He’d been straddling both lives since the day the cape came out of the closet.

“I don’t know if this was a good idea,” Clark said, pacing the kitchen as she tied the last knot on her apron. “Maybe we should’ve waited. Maybe we should’ve just done coffee. Or...something less...intimate.”

She was pulling a peach cobbler out of the oven like she hadn’t just slow-cooked two roasts, sautéed fresh collard greens, and folded a dozen buttermilk biscuits like she was born doing it in pearls. “Baby, it’s not a congressional hearing. It’s supper.”

“It’s my coworkers.”

“It’s your friends. And besides,” She turned and smiled at him, soft and warm and butter-in-a-skillet golden. “I’ve been lookin’ forward to meetin’ ‘em. I’ve read every article, you know.”

“I know you have. You made annotated notes in Lois’s exposé about Intergang’s shell corporations.”

“Couldn’t help myself.” She grinned, then kissed his cheek. “That woman’s a powerhouse. And I’ve got a few words for Jimmy about how he crops his wide shots.”

Clark groaned. “Please be gentle with him.”

“Clark,” she said, wiping her hands, “I teach middle school. This is nothing.”

At 6:01 PM, there was a knock on the door.

Clark was already sweating.

“Okay,” he muttered, tugging at his shirt. “Okay, okay. It’s fine. It’s fine. You can catch a plane midair, but you cannot panic,”

“Breathe, baby,” his wife said from behind him, sliding the apron off. “You look handsome. And you smell so handsome with that new stuff I got you.”

He gave her a look.

She gave him his look. The one that could stop a panic attack in its tracks. The one that had kept him steady after a rescue mission gone wrong. The one he only ever saw when she knew exactly who he was and loved him for all of it.

He opened the door.

Jimmy Olsen was first inside, carrying a bottle of sweet tea like it was champagne. “Ma’am,” he said, grinning wide, “you have no idea how long I’ve been dreaming about this dinner.”

“Ever since you started stealin’ Clark’s leftovers, I reckon,” she teased, guiding him in. “Go on, now. Get comfortable.”

Cat Grant strolled in behind him in heels no human should be able to walk in. “This is adorable,” she said, scanning the room. “Who decorated? This is the opposite of what I expected from Kent.”

“That would be me,” Mrs. Kent said with a little wave.

“Oh. You have taste.”

Lois came next, shrugging out of her jacket, observant eyes already clocking the throw pillows. “Is that… is that a Superman logo?”

Clark’s wife froze for half a second.

“It is,” she said brightly. “My little joke. We keep findin’ merch at pop-up markets, and I can’t help myself.”

Clark tried to casually step in front of the Live, Laugh, Lift sign hanging by the kitchen.

Lois smirked.

Steve Lombard barged in last, already talking over Perry, who was right behind him. “Smells better than a tailgate in August,” Steve announced. “Is that cornbread I smell?”

Perry just muttered, “Don’t embarrass us, Steve.”

Plates were passed. Glasses filled. Butter melted. Laughter cracked through the steam.

Clark's wife moved through the dinner like she’d known them all her life. She made Perry laugh so hard he had to remove his glasses. She humored Steve’s football analogies while refilling his sweet tea. She complimented Cat’s perfume and even managed to win Lois over by referencing her early reporting work from before the Planet.

Clark watched it all from the far end of the table, too full of awe to speak.

He’d never seen her quite like this before: charming and confident and holding her own among Metropolis’ sharpest. She was still soft. Still sweet. But this wasn’t the classroom or their porch swing back home. This was the big city, and she’d stepped right into it without missing a beat.

She glanced at him once across the table, as Perry launched into a story about a Cuban cigar deal gone wrong. Just a glance. And it grounded him.

She knew him. All of him. The alien. The cape. The flight paths. The things he’d seen and done and tried to carry without ever letting anyone else feel the weight.

And she just—smiled.

Dinner had stretched into the kind of evening Clark had always hoped was possible. The apartment was humming with the sound of second helpings and overlapping stories, of friends finally seeing the home he’d built—the home they had built.

Jimmy was leaning back in his chair, rubbing his stomach. “I gotta know,” he said dreamily. “What’s the secret to your biscuits? Did you make a deal with the devil?”

“Close,” she said sweetly. “I used cold butter and prayer.”

“Whatever it was, I’m converted.”

Clark, meanwhile, was trying to physically block anyone from seeing the Superman: Farm Raised tea towel that had somehow made it into the drying rack. She’d warned him she forgot to put some of the joke decor away.

Steve wandered toward the bookshelf. “Hey, uh… is this Superman holding a kitten calendar?”

Clark’s wife didn’t even turn around. “That one’s my favorite. Reminds me to stay hopeful.”

Jimmy nodded solemnly. “It does.”

Lois narrowed her eyes. “You’re really into Superman stuff.”

Clark’s wife tilted her head. “He saved my whole county last summer. You bet I am.”

Lois looked at Clark.

Clark blinked.

Lois looked back at the throw pillow.

She didn't say anything, but the gears were turning.

Later, when the plates were cleared and dessert had reduced even Perry to sleepy contentment, Clark and his wife stood side by side in the kitchen, hands brushing.

“She’s onto you,” she whispered.

Clark nearly dropped a spoon. “Lois?!”

“She’s not sure, baby. But she’s close.”

Clark looked stricken. “Oh...”

She reached up and smoothed the wrinkle between his brows. “You’re fine. Just stop lookin’ like you’re hiding a secret identity, and you’ll be fine.”

“I am hiding a secret identity.”

She just smiled and tapped his nose. “Exactly.”

He groaned and pulled her close, arms around her waist, tucking his face into her shoulder like she could shield him from the most dangerous woman alive.

“You’ve faced Zod and Braniac but the real threat is a dinner party,” she teased, fingers playing gently with the curls at his neck.

“She’s Lois Lane. You know what she could do with a gut feeling and a loose thread?”

“I also know she’s never seen you look at anyone the way you look at me.”

He went quiet. Tightened his arms a little. Let the world fall away.

“You’re my sunlight,” he murmured.

She closed her eyes.

“I know,” she said.

Out in the living room, Lois was sipping the last of her sweet tea, eyeing the binder on the shelf labeled Favorite Daily Planet Articles.

“Clark’s Wife’s Picks?” she said, flipping it open.

Her name was everywhere. Highlighter, margin notes, a tab labeled “Underrated Intros.”

Cat peered over her shoulder. “Are those color-coded?”

Jimmy popped a leftover biscuit in his mouth. “Yeah, she’s a teacher.”

Lois looked up, toward the kitchen. She couldn’t hear what Clark was saying. But she could see him. Could see the way he leaned toward her. The way he listened like everything she said mattered.

Something in Lois softened.

She still didn’t have the full story. But she didn’t need it.

She could see enough.

[eddiethebrave]

🩷 part eight

one two three four five six seven

1000 words

By the third time they’ve had to pause or rewind the movie because Eddie starts a conversation that inevitably gains everyone’s attention, Stevie makes the executive decision to put him out of his misery. It’s not even that anyone is particularly bothered by the interruptions. Stevie can just tell that Eddie is not having the best time in the moments between them. Once the movie has been playing uninterrupted for a few minutes, Stevie reaches to her shoulder and tangles her fingers with Eddie’s. He’s been caressing the skin there since he pulled the dorky yawning move.

He’s quick to begin the same soothing motion with her hand as well. She doesn’t want to pull too much attention to them so she doesn’t say anything as she stands up and makes her way to the side door that leads to the back yard, never letting go of her grip on Eddie. She doesn’t even have to pull him along. Almost as soon as she stands, he gets with the program and follows along without complaint.

Stevie absentmindedly hopes Jonathan isn’t offended on them skipping out on his movie. Given his loose limbs and glazed-over eyes, though, she doubts he’s worried about anything right now.

Stevie pulls the door open and waits for Eddie to step outside before shutting it quietly. Once that’s taken care of, she finally turns to Eddie. The boy is looking at her almost nervously, eyes bouncing all around her face. Stevie smiles hesitantly.

Eddie tilts his head. “You don’t like Jonathan’s movie?” he asks.

Stevie looks away with a shrug, not sure what she planned on doing once she got him out here. “Honestly? It was kinda boring.”

Eddie snorts. “And what would you have picked?”

Her gaze shoots back to his. When she catches sight of his teasing smile, she pouts. It drives Robin and Nancy crazy - Stevie’s movie choices - but it’s not her fault that movies are boring unless stuff is getting blown up.

She begins to walk away from the door without turning around. He swings their joined hands and stumbles after her.

“You know what’s next on my list, Eddie,” she reminds him with a huff and his grin only grows bigger, showing off an almost silly amount of teeth.

“Do I?” he draws his eyebrows together in mock confusion.

Stevie doesn’t even dignify that with an answer. She faces forward to lead them out of the backyard.

Like, okay, so what if she has her next thirty or so movies picked out already? And so what if she has them written in her notes app with the dates it’s her turn to pick?

“Come on, sweetheart. You know I love your DC mov-”

Eddie bumps into where Stevie has stopped dead in her tracks. He lets go of her hand to latch onto her upper arms so he doesn’t go flailing to the ground as he’s prone to do. Once she’s sure he isn’t going to end up on his ass, Stevie turns around and Eddie chuckles nervously when he catches sight of her narrowed eyes.

Stevie has to tamp down her own smile in reaction to the sound. At this point, she thinks she’s accidentally Pavloved herself. Smiling is, like, her default state around Eddie now. She can’t help it anymore.

She doesn’t even remember how this crush got like this - she swears it didn’t used to be this bad, even at the drive-in. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, or whatever.

Stevie narrows her eyes and crosses her arms over her chest. “Eddie.” She says sternly. “You know it’s Marvel.”

Eddie squints at her. “Do I?”

Her face remains stony and he cracks a smile. “Yeah, I know. I mean, that last one was called Captain Marvel, how could I forget?”

Stevie eyes him. “Uh-huh.”

Eddie holds his hand up between them in offering and Stevie takes it without hesitation. She bumps their shoulders together when they start walking again and shoots him a smile to which his cheeks tint pink.

Ugh.

Stevie’s not sure where she’s going until she spots it; Eddie’s van.

She pulls Eddie that way and when they get there, Eddie breaks away from her to pull the back door open with a flourish

“Your chariot awaits,” He says, ducking his head and offering his hand to help her climb in. Stevie bites her lip to tamp down a ridiculous smile as she accepts the help and is soon settling herself down onto the mattress he has thrown on the floor of the van.

Stevie will never forget the first time she'd been in the van. She had teased Eddie about the mattress, making some joke about implications and the boy had turned beet red and stuttered his way through an explanation. Apparently, he needed somewhere cozy to get high so he didn't have to subject his uncle to the smell.

Whatever, though, because right now Stevie is very grateful as she locates a pillow and hugs it to her chest as she scoots to put her back to the wall. It smells like weed and Eddie in here, which is mostly just how every teenage boy smells but with something that makes it his.

Eddie hops in the van in one practiced move and swiftly closes the door. He settles in across from Stevie and splays his legs out, whereas hers are crossed. Each of his Reebok covered feet end up on either side of her, bumping into her knees slightly.

Eddie lets out a breath that causes his cheeks to puff out adorably. He kind of just looks at her.

Stevie tilts her head in consideration. “So,” she says.

“So,” Eddie parrots.

Stevie realizes they've never, like, spoken before. They've only ever found themselves hanging out in group settings. Stevie realizes this is their first time ever even being alone.

Embarrassingly, she feels her face flush at the thought. Eddie peers at her curiously and Stevie ducks her head with a small smile.

taglist

@jaytriesstrangerthings @wheneverfeasible @chameleonhair @yesdangerpls @sadisticaltarts

@sofadofax @yearningagain @ollyxar @tinyplanet95 @theseaofdespair

@croatoan-like-its-hot @estrellami-1 @anaibis @crayonboxcolors607 @noahdeawesome

@themoonagainstmers @quevadilla @lil-gremlin-things @hiei-harringtonmunson @dauntlessdiva

@xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @ellietheasexylibrarian @steddieislife @samsoble @exasperatedsighohmy

@yourmom-isgay

sorry if i missed anyone!

[kodokberjamur]

Uhh so I blacked out, and—

[bluecladone]

Beat Veilguard last night, here’s some of my thoughts (SPOILERS BELOW):

First, some positives: Holy shit this game is a visual gem. The art direction and set pieces really blew me away in some places. That mountain with the titan corpse? Treviso? The lyrium chamber with the Oracle? I can’t wait for the art book lol. Also the animations and hair physics are *chef’s kiss*. I was really worried about the animations as Bioware has repeatedly gone on record saying how difficult the Frostbite engine is to work with (and I’m still a bit scarred from Mass Effect Andromeda lol) but they seem to have finally mastered it here. I was surprised at how expressive Rook was and loved how nuanced the dialogue choices were. Somehow, no matter which dialogue option I chose, I felt that the delivery was exactly what I wanted or better. There were times where I wanted Rook to be angrier or meaner though lol. Also, the worlds weren’t nearly as linear as I feared they might be. I thought it was a good balance between open-world and linear level design.

Now for some things that irked me:

There were a lot of bad line reads, especially at the beginning. Bellara springs to mind, though when she wasn’t trying to sound quirky she actually sounded alright lol. Looking up her actress, it doesn’t look like she’s done a lot of voice work, so it could just be rookie mistakes. Then again, Ali Hillis—Harding’s actress (and Liara T’soni and Aloy)—also had some clunky line reads. My guess is that they probably weren’t directed very well. Considering most of the clunky dialogue is in the beginning of the game, it’s not too egregious. I think they both found their footing with their characters as they went along. There were also some things that were worded or represented weirdly but I don’t know if it was on purpose or not? The two instances I’m thinking of are when Bellara tells Rook about her brother, and when Caterina was killed. My problem is the refusal to really say “killed.” Bellara says something like “wherever [her brother] is” and the implication is that he’s dead, of course. But the dialogue choices were either offering condolences or asking intrusively what happened so I wasn’t given a hard confirmation of his supposed death until a later conversation. The same happens during Lucanis’s recruitment mission where, after returning to Crow headquarters, Illario tells us that Caterina was “taken” by Venatori. I automatically assumed she was kidnapped, (which turns out to be the case, but I digress) since we just sprung her grandson from mage jail. That is, until Lucanis later swears that her death will be avenged, and I was like “Oh. Well maybe I missed something, even though I don’t think I did?” For hours afterward I was really confused by the coded language used and wondered why no one would just say dead or killed lol. But then it turns out that both characters are alive after all, so maybe it was on purpose? I guess? It was a clunky set up, if so.

Which leads me to my next gripe: during the mission to help with Caterina’s funeral, Lucanis tries to ask Illario about the details of the murder, (where did it happen, how was she killed, etc.) and doesn’t get a straight answer. Then Illario is weird about picking up “Caterina’s” ashes, which not only immediately made it obvious that he was a traitor, but also baffles me that the Crows somehow fell for the body double ruse twice in a row?? Not a lot of discerning people in a faction where the correct body should be tantamount to their success, no? Then, when it is glaringly obvious to the cast that Illario is the traitor, they just...kind of sit on that info and do nothing about it?? No warning to Teia and Viago, or anything? Honestly, everything about the Crows bothered me a lot lol. I didn’t like that they were portrayed as this plucky, lily-white faction of underground freedom fighters when we know that’s not how they operate. Not saying that they can’t be a terrible organization and patriotic, but the game does nothing to portray them as the neutrally evil entity they’ve always come off as. According to Zevran, they buy children from brothels and if they fail training, they’re killed. If they survive, they’re tortured to build their resistance to pain. Not to mention how Caterina used to beat Lucanis with a cane to correct him as a child, yet they still act weirdly warm toward one another. I get family is complicated, but geez. Maybe the Crows of Treviso are a softer touch, but I doubt they’d last long if that were so. I just wish the writers had tried to make them more morally gray than what we’re shown. I honestly forgot they were supposed to be scary assassins most of the time lol.

Some other little things before I move on to the big ones (besides the Crows lol):

While I loved Taash and loved getting to help them discover themselves, I was a little sucked out of the narrative by the ham-fisted lesson on gender identity lol. I get that they probably wanted to give a rundown for people who aren’t familiar with the topic, but I don’t think anyone who’s made it this far in the series isn’t at least somewhat familiar with the concept or are trans/non-binary/genderfluid. The Dragon Age fandom is very colorful that way lol. I could tell it came from a good place, at least. It was just funny to see the characters all but face the camera and say, “Hey kids, here’s a primer on gender identities for the uninitiated.” I didn’t really understand why Shathann was so hung up about Taash’s identity when Iron Bull flat-out tells us in Inquisition that the Qun has words and beliefs for people who identify that way and that they’re pretty chill about it. Not to say that EVERYONE in the Qun is likely to be chill about it, but still. Shathann even gives the same explanation before being interrupted, so it had me scratching my head a bit.

Then there was Bellara’s little “follow your heart” speech which made me roll my eyes a bit. Just a bit too corny and stereotypical for me personally. There are plenty of anecdotes about staying true to oneself without having to explicitly rely on the words “follow your heart.”

I got locked out of Lucanis’s romance without realizing until it was way too late lol. I don’t expect the game to be like “WARNING: CHOOSING MINRATHOUS OVER TREVISO MEANS YOU CAN’T FUCK THE HOT ITALIAN” but I feel like locking the romance entirely is kinda mean, especially after I looked it up and saw you could still romance Neve if you choose Treviso instead. As far as I know, Lucanis is the only romance option that gets locked because of a choice you made. I didn’t realize why I wasn’t getting flirt options until several hours later when I looked it up, after completing a shit ton of sidequests lol. Didn’t help that Lucanis is absent from the team for a good chunk of time afterward, and I’m a stickler for getting as many sidequests done as I can before moving on with story missions. I knew I could flirt with any of the other companions but it felt a bit late in the game to start at that point, and I was worried it might effect the pacing of the romance, so I just went without. Romance is kind of a big part of the appeal of these games to me, but it’s not everything. I thought about reloading an old (very old, by that point) save, but I didn’t want to deal with the frustration. Besides, I thought, if the game still holds up despite missing out on this one thing I was kind of looking forward to, then that speaks to its merits. I still had a good time overall, and am already starting a second campaign to explore some other choices and finally make that manlet mine lol. Still, it is quite annoying when choosing to save Minrathous is clearly the right call in my opinion. The game itself doesn’t make much ado about the consequences of leaving Treviso to fend for itself besides the civilian casualties. But it definitely makes leaving Minrathous sound more alarming. (You’ll basically be handing over the most powerful city in the North over to the Venatori and Evanuris. Treviso doesn’t have a giant floating castle with magic weapons that can pick a single target out of a crowd of people lol. Also the game acts like there wouldn’t also be a high civilian toll for some reason.)

While I feel that reading the tie-in books and comics isn’t required to get an understanding of certain characters and whatnot, I feel like it adds important context and makes you actually somewhat care for the fate of a lot of the characters in the game. It’s frustrating to track all that stuff down and read it, though most of it is covered in Tevinter Nights, however I might feel about some of the writing in that one lol. I suppose it could be argued that none of the Dragon Age games have ever been guaranteed sequels since its inception, so this was the next best thing to offer closure and/or extra worldbuilding just in case. In fact, the ending to Veilguard kinda feels like they’re trying to keep it open for a sequel since there are some minor loose threads, (And an end screen that basically says the Veilguard stands prepared lol) but who knows if we’ll see one. EA has never seen Dragon Age as a priority IP, since it’s an RPG and those can be hard to make into bestsellers. They’d rather focus on something more like Mass Effect— a traditional third-person shooter with some RPG elements—which we’re almost certainly getting another of. Hopefully. If there ever is another Dragon Age, I really struggle to imagine what in the world it would even be about.

Another gripe is the fact that Morrigan is not at all as prominent in the game as we maybe expected. (At least, I did lol) It’s not that big of a deal to me, but it does make me wonder why they even put her in the game. I guess to give the player an explanation about Mythal and her relationship to Solas, and to give over the aspect thingy if you do all the sidequests in the Crossroads. It didn’t really warrant Morrigan’s presence, though. Then again, I’m sure the fans would have rioted if she hadn’t been there. I guess I wish they would have utilized her more, and better lol.

The same can be said of the Inquisitor, but at least they had the excuse of keeping the South together while Rook did their thing. (Which would be a great idea for a dlc/expansion; playing as the Inquisitor and maybe seeing more about the choices made in the last game since we didn’t get to see many in Rook’s journey.) Though I do have a big problem with an Inquisitor who still wants to redeem Solas after everything he did, which I’ll get into more detail later. An Inquisitor who romanced him and still wants to get back together with him is doubly icky, but once again, I’ll come back to it lol.

Now the big things:

Varric. Oh, my poor, poor Varric. I made a post a while back about how I thought I might not enjoy the game as much if it turned out he died right at the beginning, and well...I was half right. His death was a twist I really didn’t see coming, and I’m honestly not sure how to feel about it right now. I admire the bait and switch for how clever it is, but am a bit frosty about how cruel it is, too. It feels a bit dumb to say for a fictional person, but I truly think I’m in mourning for Varric. I remember how I lamented in my old post about how it would have been so unsatisfying for him to die among strangers who barely knew him, away from the people that loved him best. This was softened somewhat by his relationship with Rook. Clearly, Rook cared about Varric a lot as a mentor, and possibly even as a father figure. (It helped that I headcanoned my Rook as someone who was separated from her parents at a young age and therefore craved that connection.) It’s still upsetting that I was half right with my prediction, and my heart breaks when I think about the Kirkwall gang not being there when he died, especially Hawke. Once again, I’m unsure of how I’m feeling about all this. I’m upset, but also aware that he couldn’t last forever, despite my wishes lol. Would it have been better to hear about him dying offscreen in a supposed sequel or tie-in book/comic? I’m upset Solas killed him, but I can’t decide if it’s out of character for him to have done so. I was surprised he stabbed Varric when it happened, but it’s not like he didn’t give Varric a warning when he broke Bianca. And he did kill Mythal, who he was closer to than anyone, despite how complicated their relationship got. I still need to reflect on all of it, and maybe my opinion will change when I have a clearer head. What I took the most exception to was the Inquisitor’s reaction to it as one who both romanced Solas and wanted to redeem him. Looking back on how you get to choose whether she gets back together with Solas or not leaves a bad taste in my mouth. At this point, the Inquisitor is obviously aware Varric is dead and that it’s Solas’s fault. I feel like even the most besotted, kindhearted Inquisitors would have trouble reconciling that, regardless of how close they might or might not have been to Varric. He was part of the inner circle, integral to stopping Corypheus. I feel like that should warrant some kind of reconsideration on her part. I’d be fine if she still wanted to redeem Solas, but pursuing a romantic relationship with him despite everything he’s done not only to Varric, but the world...it’s just gross to me. Maybe the Inquisitor sees Rook’s encouragement to get back together as some kind of forgiveness towards Solas on Rook’s part? I don’t know...it takes quite a bit of mental gymnastics on my part lol. But maybe others feel differently. I’d love to hear someone else’s opinion on the matter. As it is, the kiss before Solas and the Inquisitor disappear was soured for me. I might go back and try some of the other ending choices to see how I like those, but for now I’m focusing on another playthrough with an Inquisitor who did not romance Solas and swore to stop him. We’ll see which I like better lol.

Another big issue is, while I totally expected Solas to betray Rook at some point, the way it was handled was not very good in my opinion. Why, of all times, would Solas turn on us after killing Ghilan’nain? I know it’s likely a pride thing, or possibly he’s lost faith in Rook’s efficiency after they get one of their people killed. (Or more, depending on your choices for the assault, but I looked up the optimal choices after getting Harding killed so I didn’t traumatize myself further lol. Sorry Davrin and Assan :’(.) In fact, I was so confused by Solas’s timing that I thought it was actually Elgar’nan fucking with Rook’s head as revenge lol. Anyway, deaths in the line of duty didn’t seem to phase Solas in the past, though we do see that memory in one of his regrets. It just seemed hasty for him to immediately banish Rook to the Fade prison when they’re the one who’s done all the heavy lifting so far. And somehow, Solas seems surprised shit doesn’t work out like he planned later, but once again, I guess that’s his pride at work. This is also a complicated one for me that I think I need more time to puzzle out. I just have a hard time reconciling how someone so smart could be so dumb. Even when he was at his most powerful, he still had help from Felassan and other rebels. And yes, while Solas does take charge of Rook’s faction after trapping them, I highly doubt they compare to ancient elves with powerful magic and spirits. Credit where it’s due though, I was concerned when Solas had that line in the beginning about “abhorring blood magic” when he says the opposite in Inquisition. I can see now that it was clearly a lie meant to put Rook more at ease. Or at least, that’s how I saw it.

Overall, I did enjoy the game, despite my many problems with it. That being said, I think the mass layoffs at Bioware really made the game suffer in the writing side of things. Hopefully the new staff finds their footing after this, and I wish them the best of luck.

R.I.P. Varric Tethras, a self-admitted liar who could be honest to a fault, whose charm captured me from the moment I met him. He’s the charismatic character all writers strive to create.

[vanteguccir]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤTIKTOK TREND: CALLING MY BOYFRIEND'S BROTHERS * MATT STURNIOLO

SUMMARY　::　Where Y/N and Matt do the TikTok trend 'calling my boyfriend's brothers to see if they would cover for him'.

FEATURING　Matt Sturniolo x reader　REQUESTED?　yes.

WARNINGS　::　none.

AUTHOR'S NOTE　::　that is my work, I DON'T authorize any form of plagiarism; copy, "inspiration" or translation! | english isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

"Okay, ready?" Matt asked, lifting his thumb above the screen as he hovered over the red circle inside the TikTok app.

They were both sat on her bed, Matt’s socked feet crossing over hers at the foot of the off-white comforter covered mattress, her shoulder leaning into his comfortably. The phone was perched at arm's length, front camera facing them, perfectly angled to catch both of their faces.

Y/N adjusted herself slightly so she was fully in the frame, brushing her hair behind her ear so her face was fully seen.

"Yeah." She nod. Matt tapped the screen, and a countdown blinked.

3... 2... 1...

As soon as the camera started recording, Y/N turned to it with an excited smile.

"Hi! So, I’m about to call Matt’s brothers, Chris and Nick, and pretend that Matt told me he was going to them a few hours ago. But he’s obviously right here, so we’re gonna see if they cover for him or not." She said rapidly, her words tumbling over each other.

Matt leaned into the frame with a nod.

"Try Chris first." He said, eyes glinting with anticipation.

Y/N turned her head to give him a raised eyebrow. She held the expression for the camera, too, before letting a crooked smile slip as she looked down at her own phone, her fingers already scrolling her favorites list.

"Alright." She muttered, finding Chris’s contact and selecting it. She pressed the speaker and quickly moved her phone closer to Matt’s so his phone could catch all the audio.

The dial tone filled the room, ringing for some seconds.

Matt tilted his head, whispering.

"He’s not gonna answer. Watch. I bet he’s like passed out or somethi-"

But before he could finish that sentence, the ringing stopped.

"Hello?" Chris’s voice came through, slightly raspy like he had indeed just woken up.

Matt’s lips snapped shut. He stared at her phone, frozen.

Y/N’s voice was suddenly sugar-sweet.

"Hey, it’s Y/N."

"Yeah, I know it’s you." Chris replied instantly, with the most guy best friend-coded dry tone ever. "What do you want?"

Y/N’s shoulders shook with a held-in laugh.

"Matt left my place a few hours ago, said he was going back home, but he’s not picking up his phone, so I just wanted to check..." She started, trying to keep her voice casual. "Is he there?"

The other end of the line went quiet.

Matt leaned forward like he was about to climb through the speaker. His eyebrows raised as the silence dragged.

"He said he was coming home?"

Y/N widened her eyes at Matt, giving a subtle nod to her phone.

"Yeah. Like two hours ago."

"Oh... yeah." Chris said, and Y/N's mouth dropped open. "Yeah, he is. He got here like a little while ago. We were actually thinking of streaming soon."

Matt whipped his head to look at Y/N, then to her phone, then back to her. He looked surprised that Chris would actually cover for him but was afraid of Y/N's reaction at the same time.

Y/N bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing.

"Oh, okay, cool. Could you pass him the phone real quick? I just need to talk to him for a sec."

There was a beat.

"Uhh... I think he’s sleeping." Chris said, voice feigning uncertainty. "He just went to his room."

Matt pressed his lips in a thin line, his whole body trembling as he tried not to burst into laughter. His knees came up instinctively, curling in as he looked at Y/N.

Chris was a terrible liar.

How could they be planning to stream if he 'just went to his room'?

Y/N tilted her head at the phone.

"Oh. Hm. Could you wake him up? It’s kind of important."

Another pause.

She raised her brows and slowly turned her head to Matt with eyes that screamed 'he’s about to give up'. But instead, Chris's voice returned, smooth as butter.

"Yeah, hold on. I can do that. Gimme a sec."

The faint sound of rustling blankets and a bed creaking came through the speaker, as if Chris had actually gotten up.

Matt squeezed his eyes shut, shoulders bouncing as he laughed into his hand, trying desperately not to let a sound, the phone in his hand shaking with his movements.

Y/N looked at the camera, then back at her phone when more sounds kept echoing from it.

Thump.

Rustle.

Creak.

The sound of a bedroom door opening. Then faint, echoing footsteps down a hallway.

Thump-thump.

Thump.

Stairs?

"No way." Y/N whispered, jaw slowly dropping. Her hand hovered over her mouth, eyes wide in absolute disbelief as her phone blared the unmistakable sound of Chris stomping upstairs. "There’s no way he’s actually going to your room."

Matt was frozen next to her, frowning while trying to control his breathing from his laughter.

Then, click.

A door opened.

And a light switch flicked.

Y/N let out a little gasp, turning to Matt, mouth half-open in shock.

"Did he just-?"

Matt’s eyes traveled to her from her phone screen.

"I think so."

And then, Chris’s voice came through again. Muffled at first, like he was calling into the void.

"Matt? Matt!"

Y/N’s hand flew to her screen, muting her side of the call so fast it nearly slipped from her grip.

"Oh my god." She blurted out in a loud laugh, pinching the bridge of her nose. "He’s actually trying to wake you up."

Matt, beside her, laughed just as hard, shaking his head in disbelief, his phone wobbling in his hand as it continued to record.

Chris didn’t stop.

"Matt, wake up."

"Wake the fuck up, Matt."

"C’mon, dude. Your girl wants to talk to you."

Y/N slapped a hand over her face, muffling her laughter against her palm so it wouldn't disturb the call audio. Matt leaned his head back, lips trembling, hand on his stomach like he was in physical pain.

"Thank you for muting it." Matt muttered, so only Y/N could hear him. "I would’ve choked if I had to hold back any longer."

Y/N’s nodded, silent tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. She was trying so hard to be respectful of the bit, but it was a losing battle.

And then Chris’s voice echoed louder, like he was back to talking to Y/N - and not "Matt" -, letting out a dramatic sigh.

"Y/N, I don’t know what you gave to him." He said in complete deadpan. "But he won't wake up for anything. You put him in a coma or something."

Y/N took a deep breath, biting her lip so hard it actually hurt. She unmuted her phone with a shaky thumb, still snorting between breaths.

"He isn’t waking up?" She asked, voice cracking with the effort to sound normal.

Chris didn’t even hesitate.

"No. I literally shook him. I yelled in his ear. He didn’t even move. I’m not even sure he’s breathing, bro."

Matt, curled up beside her, let out a strangled squeak as he pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes, laughing so hard but still trying to keep it quiet.

Y/N’s lip wobbled from trying to suppress a smile.

"Alright, well- uh... can you tell him to call me when he wakes up?"

"Yeah, yeah." Chris said like he was already on his way back downstairs. "I’ll try again in a few, or I’ll text you. He’s probably just dead tired. I gotchu."

"Thanks, Chris." Y/N managed to say through clenched teeth.

"Mhmm. Talk soon."

Click.

Y/N dropped the phone onto the bed like it had burned her. She didn’t even have time to recover before Matt’s phone started vibrating in his hand while it was still recording.

Chris.

Y/N and Matt made eye contact, stunned for half a second before the hysterical laughter burst out of both of them simultaneously.

"He's calling me." Matt said to the camera, voice raspy from laughing too hard.

Y/N leaned closer to Matt, cheeks still warm from all the laughter, her voice slightly breathless as she spoke directly into the front lens.

"Alright. Time for Nick. But I’m gonna switch it up a bit ‘cause he’s at the Space Camp office today for some meetings, so if I say you were supposed to meet him there, he won’t be as suspicious."

Matt, leaning back on one elbow with a squint in his eye, let out a low hum.

"Bold of you to assume Nick’s gonna cover for me. You know we’re not the glue here."

Y/N gave him an innocent glance.

"What do you mean?"

He smirked and gestured vaguely at her face.

"You and Nick are like, glued together. He’s obsessed with you. He’s gonna throw me under the bus faster than you can say lip balm."

Y/N dramatically rolled her eyes.

"You’re just scared."

Matt made a pfft sound.

"Yeah, right."

With that, Y/N pulled her phone back up, scrolling through her contacts until Nick’s name popped up, paired with about seven different sparkly emojis and a shooting star. She grinned, tapped 'call', set it on speaker, and moved her phone next to Matt’s again.

It didn’t even ring twice.

"Hey, queen!" Nick’s voice chirped through the speaker, a little too loud and echoey from what was clearly a busy office.

You could faintly hear a door closing, chairs scraping, and someone saying 'That’s not the right shade for the summer launch' in the background.

Y/N’s face lit up like a Christmas tree.

"Nick! Hi!"

Matt groaned and covered his face with his free hand. Y/N slapped his thigh to shut him up, trying not to laugh.

"Um, I’m so sorry to bother you at office day." She continued, letting her voice take on the sweet, clueless tone. "But Matt left my apartment a few hours ago and said he was coming to your office? To help out with the Space Camp shoot or something? He’s not answering his phone, and I was just wondering if he made it to you okay."

There was silence on the line.

Y/N’s smile grew slow and devilish as she waited.

"... He said he was coming here?" Nick asked, his tone completely suspicious, laced with genuine confusion.

Matt pressed his lips in a thin line. Nick would kill him.

Y/N nodded.

"Yeah." She replied sweetly. "He said he was gonna help you take some pictures?"

There was another half-second pause.

"That little bitch."

Y/N choked, slapping her free hand over her mouth so fast she nearly knocked her phone off the bed. Her shoulders shook violently as she turned wide eyes on Matt, who looked deeply offended.

"I told you!" Matt mouthed, pointing at her with a betrayed look.

Nick continued, completely unaware of the chaos he’d caused on the other end of the line.

"No. No, queen. He did not come here. He never told me he was coming here. I even asked him this morning if he could pick me up after the shoot, and he had the audacity to say no because he was spending the day at your place." He sounded like he was pacing now.

Matt’s hand was now covering both his eyes, shaking his head.

Y/N slowly lowered her own hand, trying to breathe.

"Wait... so he’s not there?"

"No!" Nick practically yelled. "He hasn’t even stepped foot into this building today. This man lied to your face. He betrayed my trust. And he skipped being my chauffeur."

Y/N sent a pointed look to Matt. She always told him to pick Nick up if he asked for it, or at least make Chris do it.

Matt squinted at her, whispering as lowly as possible so Nick wouldn't hear.

"Don’t you dare side with him. He called me a bitch."

Nick continued on the other side of the phone.

"Did you try calling Chris? Maybe Matt went home. You didn’t check with him?"

Y/N let out the most exaggerated sigh, forcing her brows to furrow and her voice to drop.

"No... no, I haven’t. I-I just figured if he said he was with you, then..."

Matt raised his eyebrows at her acting, but she waved him off.

"Oh, sweetheart." Nick said gently, his entire tone doing a 180. You could hear the pout forming on his lips. "Hey. Listen to me. I’ll try calling him, okay? Both Matt and Chris. I swear, if that little fucker is playing hide and seak, I’ll find him. But I promise you he wouldn’t do anything wrong."

Y/N bit the inside of her cheek to hold back a smile and nodded seriously like she was actually worried Matt had evaporated into thin air.

"Okay. Please, just let me know as soon as you find out anything?"

"Of course." Nick replied immediately. "I’ll call you the second I get anything. And if he doesn’t pick up my calls, I’m going to kill him myself."

Matt raised an unimpressed brow and muttered a low 'Charming', rolling his eyes so hard it was a miracle they didn’t fall out of his head.

Y/N beamed.

"Thanks, Nick. Oh, and when the shoot’s done, lemme know, and I’ll come get you, okay?"

Nick gasped dramatically.

"You’re the best. See, Matt could never. Love you, queen."

"Love you more." Y/N chimed before tapping the screen to end the call.

As soon as the line disconnected, she turned slowly to Matt with a look that could only be described as smug. Chin high, eyes gleaming, she crossed her arms and tilted her head.

"Nick passed." She announced. "He would never lie to me. Not even to save your sorry little ass."

Matt raised both brows in surrender and shrugged, looking toward his still-recording phone.

"I told you he wouldn’t cover for me. That man would rat me out to the FBI if it meant you’d still do his nails next week."

Y/N smirked, reaching over to grab one of her throw pillows and hugging it to her chest, feeling victorious.

"And for the record, yeah, Nick really would beat the shit outta me if I ghosted you for two hours-"

His words were interrupted by a soft chime echoing from Matt’s phone. At the top of the screen, a message banner rolled in from their shared triplet group chat.

Nick:

@Matt WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU?

Y/N froze.

Matt blinked once, twice, then turned slowly toward Y/N.

"Well, he said he would chase you down, so..." Y/N shrugged, smiling.

RING RING.

The phone echoed into a vibrating buzzing. It was Nick. Calling Matt. Y/N’s phone started ringing two seconds later, and Y/N's eyes were quick to meet the caller ID, Chris. Now he wanted answers, too.

Matt stared at the double call screens with dead eyes.

"I have never regretted anything faster in my life."

© vanteguccir

[nanaslutt]

JJK men's reactions to you starting your period during sex

incl: Nanami, Choso, Gojo, Geto

note: anon who sent this, this just happened to me too, you’re not alone

Contains: fem reader, period talk, period sex, blood, choking, multiple positions, mirror sex, spanking, creampie, ass play (geto’s part), dirty talk, teasing, rough sex

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ

Nanami:

Nanami had you in a mean mating press, your legs up to your shoulders as he drilled his cock inside you, the angle making him perfectly hit all of the most sensitive spots inside you. "Shi-t Kento, right there!" You whined, the words coming out broken from the roughness of his thrusts. "Yeah? Feels good honey?" He asked, smiling into your shoulder before he pursed his lips to leave soft kisses on your neck and shoulders.

"Fuck yes- please don't stop-" you cried, feeling your legs start to burn from being stretched over your head for so long, but the pleasure Nanami was bringing you was more than enough to make up for it. Nanami felt the telltale sign of your high, your cunt clenching tighter around him, the pulsing of your cunt around his cock coming more frequently as you got closer and closer to your orgasm.

He knew you needed clit stimulation to cum though, so without a second thought he squeezed his hand between your bodies in search for your clit—which he found with ease as he began rubbing small circles into the bud. He felt his own stomach start to tighten with the need for his own release, his thrusts getting sloppy as he fucked his cock inside your warm cunt, working him up to his orgasm.

"You gonna cum pretty girl? Gonna cum all over my cock?" Nanami whispered, feeling a gush of your arousal around his length. You nodded your head, your nails digging into his shoulders as you babbled and whined his name, relishing in all the pleasure he was giving you. Nanami leaned back slightly, easing the stretch of your thighs as he looked down to where the two of you were connected, nothing unusual—he loved watching his cock disappear and reappear from your cunt covered in your slick.

Only this time, when he pulled his hips back he could clearly see there were streaks of red coating his cock, making him panic, his thumb coming down to scoop some of the slick that was slipping down the underside of your hole as he kept the pace of his hips up, just slower—not wanting to alarm or embarrass you. When he brought his thumb back up it was just as he had thought he saw, his thumb was coated in your arousal, mixed with some of your blood.

While your eyes were screwed shut and you were waiting patiently to feel Nanami's thumb on your clit some more, he stopped his thrusts, keeping his hips flush to yours. Nanami leaned back, grabbing your ankles he slowly dropped your legs down from the side of your head, resting them atop his thighs. You cracked your eyes open slowly, wondering why he had stopped. "Kento? Something wrong?" You asked, trying to catch your breath, your eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

He sighed before showing you a small smile, his hands coming to rub along your thighs, making goosebumps arise on the skin there as he caressed you so gently. "It's my fault really, I saw you were supposed to start your period today on the app I have. I should've taken it easier on you." He said, a faint blush spreading on his cheeks. Immediately your face was covered in a dark crimson blush, your whole body heating up in embarrassment at what his words meant.

"Wait- Did I-? On your-?" You asked, covering your face with your hands but spreading your fingers apart as eyeholes so you could see him still. Nanami chuckled, his hands coming to pull your wrists away from your face, facing some resistance from you at first. "Nanami I'm so sorry, oh my goddd." You pouted, looking away from him you tried to turn your body away, which didn't result in you moving far as Nanami's cock was still snugly inside you.

"Why are you sorry my love?" He giggled, leaning over your body he placed his elbows by your head, moving your hands away from your face he caressed your cheek softly, your eyes still looking anywhere but his face. "This isn't something you can control. On the other hand, I saw you might start today and decided to have sex with you anyways, please don't feel embarrassed." He reassured, kissing your cheek softly.

"So.. what now.." You asked, feeling how his cock still throbbed inside you, his orgasm being stripped away after being so close must have left him with a dull ache. "We can do whatever you want my love, I can keep going and finish us off, We can stop and I'll clean you up, I can pull out and get you off with my fingers, whatever you're comfortable with," Nanami answered, smiling at you softly, his other hand starting to caress through your hair.

"I think I want to uh.. finish.. both of us." You replied, looking back at him bashfully. Nanami nodded, pressing a kiss to your face before he leaned back and kept your thighs around his, not wanting to put you in an uncomfortable position again. "You sure you're not.. grossed out by this?" You asked, fiddling with your hands over your stomach. Nanami laughed, shaking his head down at you before he pulled his cock out a couple inches and humped it back inside you, making your mouth open in a moan. "No part of you could ever gross me out." He replied, making you blush furiously.

Choso:

"Ngh- so tight-" Choso moaned when you squeezed your cunt around him on purpose. His hands were reaching up to play with your tits while you straddled his hips and rode his cock. You bit your lip looking down at your handsome boyfriend whose face was screwed in pleasure. "Does it feel good Cho?" You asked, pausing your up and down movements to rock back and forth on him, your clit bumping against his abs and sending delicious pleasure throughout your whole body.

He kept his hands on your tits, squeezing them almost painfully when you started grinding on him, knocking his cock into your sweet spot inside you. This was a different kind of pleasure than when you were bouncing on him, and it was making his toes curl. "So good- so good b-babe." Choso whined quietly, almost whispering out the pet name in embarrassment. His eyes were rolling back in his head, his chin tipped up toward the ceiling as he laid his head back into the pillows, relishing in the feeling of your warm cunt around him.

"Good, wanna make you feel good Cho." You responded, placing your hands on his abs you pulled your hips up, laving just the tip of his cock inside you before you slammed back down on him, sending waves of pleasure through your body. Choso groaned out the moment you dropped your weight down on his cock and started fucking him again.

His chin fell back down to his chest so he could watch you get off on top of him. A blush covered his cheeks while he watched you throw your head back as you bounced on top of him, your hand coming down to play with your clit while he continued groping your tits, pinching and rolling your nipples between his fingers. Choso was in absolute heaven, nothing could make this moment better.. so he thought.

Choso dropped his gaze to your cunt to watch your pussy swallow up his cock hungrily when he noticed each time his cock disappeared inside you when you raised back up before sitting on him again, the strings of your arousal that stuck to your inner thighs and the base of his cock were a deep red color--you were bleeding. Choso opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. He wanted to tell you that you were bleeding, in case you were in pain, but you didn't seem to be in pain at all.

He truly was enjoying the sight, his cock twitching inside you at the revelation that the warmth that was coating his cock wasn't just your cum, but your blood. That same thought repeated over and over in his head every time you bounced on his cock, making him feel dizzy.

After lots and lots of back and forth in his head about whether he would tell you about the blood; in fear, you would want to stop; he decided to tell you--it was the right thing to do. Hesitantly his hands dropped from your tits and gripped your waist hard, stopping all your movements. He was partially grateful he had stopped you at this moment because after seeing the blood, he didnt think he was going to last much longer.

"Cho, something wrong? You close?" You asked, tilting your head at him as you rubbed your hands over his abs, noticing how heavy he was breathing and how flushed his face was. Choso swallowed hard, he tried to gather the words in his crowded head carefully before he spoke. "Its okay baby, you can talk to me." You assured, smiling softly at him, one of your hands coming to rub at his large shaky hand that held your waist with an iron grip.

"Y-you..You're bleeding." He finally said after so much thought, making you furrow your eyebrows together. "Huh?" You replied, looking at your body for signs of blood, the crimson color below you being hidden from how you were sitting flush on his lap, his cock snugly inside you. "Um, down there..you're bleeding." He answered, doing his best to keep his eyes on yours, even though the words he was saying was making him feel incredibly embarrassed for some reason.

You looked down, moving your hands away from his abs you laid them on his knees. Leaning backward you lifted your hips as bit, noticing the blood that was smeared all over his pelvis and your inner thighs, the crimson liquid also coating the base of his dick that you pulled out of you. Choso saw the gears in your head turn, noticing that you were starting to panic. "I like it." He blurted out before you could apologize.

You shut your mouth briefly, registering his words you opened it again, looking at him in astonishment. "I uh.. I don't want to stop. I.. I really like it, but if you're not comfortable we can.. we can stop." Choso knew very little about humans and how their bodies worked, but he did remember you kept little cotton devices in your bathroom, and you had rejected his advances before because you were on your 'period'. He had Yuuji explain what a 'period' was, and the boy had told him that "girls bleed once a month" adding he didn't know much else about it.

Had Choso known what that had actually entailed and how hot it would be, he would've pushed for the two of you to have sex when you were on your period way sooner. You looked at him incredulously before you burst into laughter, covering your mouth with your hand. Choso blushed, your cunt twitching around him while you laughed, making him feel needy. "You're something else Choso." You giggled, blushing at his confession.

"Sorry, I wanted to be honest. I don't know much about.. periods but if it hurts we can stop too." He smacked himself internally for not asking you how you were feeling sooner. You leaned down to kiss his chest, the few inches of his cock you had slid out of you to see what he was talking about sliding back inside you, making him inhale softly. "It doesn't hurt but I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a little embarrassed.." Choso had no idea why you would be embarrassed about something so hot, did other humans think it was gross? How stupid.

"But, you seem to really like it so.. I guess it'll be okay for now." You finished, making his face flush red, his whole body heating up at your consent for him to keep going. "I do, I really like it, promise." He babbled, shaking his head, his hands smoothing up and down the sides of your body eagerly. "Please keep going, please fuck me now," Choso begged needily, making you giggle. "Okay, okay, but this is a one-time thing okay! Don't get too excited." Choso was long past that, 'one-time' thing? Yeah right, Choso was good at begging, and Choso happens to be your one and only weakness.

Gojo:

"You look so prettyyy~" Gojo cooed, sitting on his heels behind you in the mirror while your ass sat on his pelvis, the skin rippling every time he fucked his cock back inside you, creating loud squelches to echo throughout the room. You blushed at his compliment, your eyes averting away from the mirror in embarrassment from how intensely he was looking at you.

"Awww, you gettin' shy on me?" Gojo giggled, grabbing your jaw in his strong hand he pulled your gaze back to the mirror, making you watch yourself get fucked. "Don't be shyy~ After all I'm going through all this trouble to put on a show for you, don't be mean~" He cooed, pouting his lip at you in the mirror, watching your eyes rake over your body.

"Yeah, that's it, look at how good you look when I fuck you." He moaned, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth, his chin coming to rest in the crook of your shoulder while he watched your body move and bounce from his ministrations. "Gojo- too fast-" You whined, reaching one of your hands back between you to push weakly on his pelvis, trying to get him to slow down.

There was a dull cramping in your stomach, making you wince when Gojo fucked into you a little too hard. You chalked it up to the angle being intense combined with the sheer length of Gojo's cock, he was probably hitting your cervix--being the reason for the cramping.

Gojo had one hand wrapped around your torso, keeping you flush against his chest, the other still holding your face, making you watch your pleasure-contorted expressions in the mirror. "Huh? 'S it too much? Can't take it?" Gojo teased, making his voice whiny and high-pitched. "Y-es t-too much- too fast nghhh-" Gojo slid his hand from your face down to your neck, gripping your throat slightly he tipped your head back towards him, making your body arch into him.

"Nah, you can take it, mama." He whispered in your ear, making you whine. "You always take my cock so well, don't you?" He cooed, encouraging you. When you continued to mindlessly cry on his cock, he tightened his grip on your throat, "Don't you?" He repeated, emphasizing his words with a mean thrust. "Toru-" You whined, tears forming in your eyes as he fucked you spiraling towards your high.

"Oooh fuck- you gonna cum? S-squeezin' me so tight pretty- fuck-" Gojo grit through his teeth into your neck. He felt your cunt squeeze tightly around him, making his eyes roll back in his head. When they returned to their rightful place in his sockets, he dragged his gaze between your legs, ready to watch how your little hole squeezed around him as you came, but something else caught his attention. A red streak of blood was slowly dripping down the inside of your thigh, coming from your cunt. It was then he noticed the base of his cock was red as well.

It didn't take him long to figure out what was happening. You always took him with little to no complaints. Your hand had been pressed to your pelvis like you were in pain when you told him to slow down, and now you were bleeding--you had started your period, in the middle of sex, all over his cock. Gojo knew you, he knew you would be embarrassed and make him stop if he pointed out what was happening.

He couldnt do that to you, after all you were so close to your orgasm. He smirked to himself, the hand wrapping around your body slid down to your cunt to rub circles into your sensitive little bud, getting the crimson colored liquid on his fingers as he did so--not that he minded in the slightest. He sort of found it endering, it was very intamate. His ego also spiked at the thought that he had literally fucked your period out of you--or he chose to see it that way.

He kept his hand firm on your neck, keeping your face pointed to the ceiling to avoid you opening your eyes and seeing the bloody mess between your thighs, turning your off. "Toru- T-toru-" You whined, gripping his wrist as he continued to rub your clit in circles with his middle finger, his cock hammering into your g-spot. "Cum for me mama, cum all over my cock-" He groaned into your ear, watching your body in the mirror.

"Yeahhhhh- fuck- thats it-" He smiled, feeling your cunt constrict around his cock, your jaw going slack as you were pushed over the edge. Your eyes squeezed shut as you came, your orgasm hitting your so much harder than usual, probably thanks to the angle he had you in. "Fucking- godddd~" Gojo groaned, feeling his own cock twitch as spurts of his hot cum filled your cunt, mixing inside you with your arousal and blood.

He bit his lip watching the fluids leak out around him, his eyes fighting to stay forward as he wanted to watch how your body jerked and spasmed while you came. "Take it baby, take my fucking cum-" He whispered breathily in your ear, slowly humping his hips to the hilt of your cunt, making sure he fucked every last drop of his cum inside you.

He giggled, watching your body weakly twitch in the mirror. He could see your eyes open once more, staring at the ceiling. Gojo kissed a trail from the crook of your next to your ears before he giggled, "Don't freak out~" He said teasingly before he let go of your throat, allowing you to get out of the uncomfortable arch he had you in.

"Wha-?" You were about to question what he meant when you instinctively looked between your legs, your eyes taking in the bloody mess on your thighs and the base of his cock. You slapped a hand over your face instantly, the need to curl up in a ball and hide coming over you--as well as the need to kill Satoru for not telling you you had started your period during sex. "Satoru!!" You yelled behind your hand, the hand on his pelvis smacking against him a couple times in frustration.

"I didnt want you to be embarassedddd~ I wanted you to cum before you-" "Satoruuuuu." You groaned, interrupting him as you covered your face with both hands, cringing at your own body's horrible timing. He laughed, embracing your body with his larger one he wrapped his arms around you, engulfing you entirely. "Baby, it's okay," He giggled, kissing the hands that covered your face. You felt so hot, and it wasn't from your arousal. "One shower and it's like it never even happened~." He said, trying to comfort you.

"It's probably all over the floor, ughhhh.." You moaned, your words coming out muffled from behind your hands. "I'll clean it up mama, it's my apology to you." He said although he would clean it up no matter what, Satoru always took such good care of you after he finished blowing your back out. "Bet your cramps are gone now too, huh?" He added, making you tip your head up, looking at him through your fingers.

"How did you know I had cramps?" You asked, taking a second to notice that he was right, the ache in your stomach was gone. "Dumb question, I know you better than I know myself." He said smugly, kissing your hands again. "They do say orgasms take away period pain," Gojo added, wiggling his eyebrows at you.

You groaned, trying to force down your smile before you dropped your hands to his thighs and rubbed the skin there, sighing. "Whatever you say.. just.. clean me up please, I feel gross." You cringed. "Anything for you princess." Gojo smiled, pressing a string of kisses to your face before he pulled his softened cock out to clean you up.

Geto:

The dark-haired man stared down at your ass, mouth agape as he used a large hand to grip your waist, the other pulling your pussy lips apart so he could get a perfect view of your cunt sucking in his cock. He shook his head, groaning when you slowly sat down on him, repeating that process, up and down, up and down, teasingly fucking yourself on his cock while you faced away from him, your feet hooked on his thighs.

Geto groaned as he relaxed into the bed, his hand that was holding your hip coming up to cradle his head, laying it against the pillows behind him. You turned your head back to look at him, he looked so sexy. His hair was pulled half up half down in his signature smile, a faint blush was dusting on his cheeks as he stared at where the two of you were connected with a smirk.

His eyes darted up to yours when he noticed you staring at him, making his smile grow, his head tilting to the side. "Whatcha lookin' at baby?" He asks, pulling his hand back to leave a loud smack against the fat of your ass, making you wince at the painful pleasure. "You're 's handsome sugu~" You praise, humping your hips back against his pelvis faster.

Geto shows you his teeth, a pretty smile gracing his features. "Thank you, baby, you're pretty cute too, takin' my dick so well~" He cooed, his eyes darting between your cunt and your face screwed in pleasure. "'S it feel good right there?" He asked, noticing how your eyes rolled back in your head when he humped his hips up into yours, his dick slamming into your sweet spot. "Mhm." You said softly, your head falling back as you sat on his thighs, bracing yourself on the strong muscles as you bounced up and down on him, the new angle pressing his fat tip right against where you needed him most.

"Oh shit," He groaned, both of his hands flying down to grip your waist at the new position. "Fuck- feels like 'm so deep like this." He says, his jaw dropping in a small o as you do your best to bounce through the burn of your thighs. "Sugu~" You whine, turning your head once more to look at him through your peripheral vision, "Help me," You whine, your bouncing growing slopy at the increasing burn in your muscles.

"You gettin' tired baby?" He asks, soothingly rubbing his hands over your hips. "Yeah.. Fuck me Sugu, please." You beg, squeezing your cunt around him, causing him to let out a drawn-out groan. "Ohhh- fuck- okay baby, yeah, I'll help you." Before you're able to register what's happened, Geto has you face down on the bed, your arms pinned behind your back as he restrains you with one arm, the other softly teasing the rim of your puckered hole as he ruthlessly pounds his cock into you.

"Ngh- S-s-uguuu-" You whine, being able to do nothing but cry into the sheets as he bullies your cunt with his thick cock. "What~" He cooes, "Wanted me to help right baby? I'm helping. What do you say?" He teases, pressing his thumb harder against your tight hole. "T-thank you t-thank you Sugu- fuck!" You cry out when his thumb breaches the tight ring, his fingers resting on the slope of your ass while he slowly thrusts his thumb in and out of you.

"Fuck, you get so tight when I play with your ass baby, you're so dirty." He teases, picking up the pace of his cock. You continue to cry into the sheets, taking all the pleasure he gives you with no complaints. Geto smiles down at you, watching your eyes roll back in your head repeatedly every time his dick thrusts inside you. His eyes drop down to admire the way you're taking him, but his hips freeze when he notices blood on his cock, some of it starting to drip down the back of your thigh, making him panic.

"Fuck, you're bleeding." He says, pulling his cock and thumb out. He notices then that his entire cock is coated in a light pink liquid, the color thanks to how much arousal you were leaking out of your cunt. You whipped you're head around, a panicked, "What?!" leaving your lips as Geto used his thumb to spread open your folds, wondering how deep the bleeding was. Had he been too rough? Fuck, he felt so bad.

"I'm sorry, fuck I think I was too rough, are you okay? Does it hurt?" He rushed, soothing his hand over your ass as he waited for you to speak, his cock hanging in the air between you, still hard. It was then that you realized the ache in your tummy--the unforgettable feeling of period cramps. "Shit." You mumbled while Geto sat back on his heels, apologizing profusely. "No baby, It's, fuck it's okay you didnt do anything." You said, sitting up from the position he had you in to face him, a hand coming down to cup over your cunt to prevent blood from leaking onto the sheets.

Geto looked at you with worry still in his eyes, his hands shaking. He wasn't afraid of blood, but his biggest fear was hurting you, even unintentionally. You placed your hand on his thigh, looking into his eyes. You took a deep breath before you spoke, "I uh.. I started my period.." You said, your face turning a deep crimson. "My app said I was supposed to start in a couple days so I thought I was okay but.. fuck.. this is so embarrassing." You sighed, laughing nervously as you looked anywhere but at Geto.

Geto felt like he was ten pounds lighter, a loud sigh of relief fell from his lips before he leaned forward, his forehead landing on your shoulder. "Thank god," He heaved, his hands wrapping around your body, your arm cupped underneath your cunt being awkwardly squished between the two of you. "I know you're okay, but maybe we should stick to.. softer sex for a while. I think I almost had a heart attack thinking I hurt you." He admitted, keeping his head on your shoulder.

You giggled, your free hand wrapping around his shoulders. It made you laugh how you were comforting him in this situation, but the lack of attention on yourself took away a lot of the embarrassment so you were happy to baby him. "Whatever you want baby, sorry to scare you." You laughed, your hands starting to thread through his hair. After another long sigh, he raised his head from your shoulder and dropped his gaze briefly to your covered cunt before looking back into your eyes.

"So.. you're not in any pain?" He asks, to which you nod. "Yes, promise, I'm fine." You respond, your hand sliding down the side of his face to caress his cheek. Suguru thinks for a moment, looking around the room before he looks back at you. "So... wanna keep going?" He asks, making your jaw drop as you staired at him wordlessly.

Honestly, your first instinct was to say no.. but after you thought about it for another half a second you figured, fuck it. Geto's cock still hung erect between his legs, still coated in the pink liquid, and your own arousal was still very much prevalent between your legs. It was also very clear to you that Geto did not mind the blood, and he was certainly not the kind of man who was clean in bed. "Yeah, why not." You responded, crashing your lips to his.

[rynwrites4fun]

Across The Hall (4) | Michael Robinavitch x Neighbor/Teacher ! Reader

Michael Robinavitch x F! Neigbor/Teacher ! Reader

Summary: You and Michael are catching up on home duties, tackling laundry and now grocery shopping. As you joke around in the aisles, having fun together, you’re suddenly interrupted by someone Michael knows. The encounter leaves Michael quickly defending himself, insisting that he doesn't have feelings for you, while you start to wonder if your playful behavior gave the wrong impression.

Word Count: 2880

Warnings: Age Gap (Mid 20s/ Early 50s)

Authors Note: Hello! This is prob gonna be my last post for now just because these last two weeks of May I am absolutely SLAMMED. Hanging on by a thread at my job, but I got 10 days left. I’m ready for summer. I’ll be back sometime beginning of June. Very sorry. Again thank you for all the love!!! This is gonna have to hold y’all over for a minute. - ryn

“Guess you had the same idea as I did,” you chuckle as you stand in the doorway of the laundry room.

Michael looks over his shoulder as he tosses his scrubs into the drum of the washing machine.

“Hey,” he smiles.

With your basket on your hip and holding it with one hand, you move towards the washing machine next to him.

“You’ve been neglecting home duties too?” you ask, popping open the washer and tossing in your clothes.

Michael lets out a soft laugh, shaking his head. “Is it that obvious? I’ve been running on empty lately—just trying to keep up.”

He measures out the detergent, pours it in, shuts the lid, and turns the knobs with a practiced motion before starting his load.

“I have a mountain of stuff to do…I have to go grocery shopping,” you say, rubbing your forehead as if just remembering.

You toss in a couple of detergent pods and close the washer with a quiet thud and start the machine. 

“So do I,” Michael replies, leaning his back against the washer. “My fridge is completely empty”

There’s a small pause. The hum of the machines fills the space. You glance sideways at him, then back at your basket.

“We could go together…after our laundry's done?” 

” you offer, your voice gentle, almost careful.

You’d found excuses to spend time with Michael—more than just him stepping in to help. Taking you to dinner when Aiden flaked, fixing your jammed window, carrying that heavy shelf box up to your apartment and assembling it. As much as you appreciated all of it, something had shifted.

Your friendship with Michael was growing into something solid, something you looked forward to. You found yourself craving his company, wanting to be around him more than you ever expected.

It wasn’t because you needed something. It was because being with him felt easy, calm, and real.

You wanted more than just passing chats in the lobby or quick moments in the elevator. You wanted time together that didn’t need a reason.

So when you suggested grocery shopping, it wasn’t about the errands—it was about spending time with him. Just being.

He looks over at you, the smile returning—this time slower, warmer. “Yeah,” he says. “I’d like that.”

—

You and Michael walked into the city’s grocery store, reusable bags in hand. The automatic doors whooshed open, letting in the familiar scent of produce and deli meats. Michael grabbed a cart, glancing over at you with a small smile.

“Alright,” he said, rolling up his sleeves a little. 

“What’s first on your list?”

You pulled out your phone, scanning the notes app. “Eggs. Bread. Fruit. Veggies. Stuff for dinner. Oh—sprinkle of junk food” 

He laughed. “A sprinkle?”

“Okay maybe more than just a sprinkle”

“How about you?” you asked, glancing over at him as he steered the cart forward.

“Pretty much the same as you…Minus the actual planning. I just sort of walk around until something calls to me.” He shrugs

You gave him a look. “So you’re a wander-and-wing-it kind of shopper.”

“Exactly.”

“Alright then,” you said, nudging the cart playfully. “Let’s start with my list, and if something speaks to you along the way, you can toss it in.”

The two of you start in the produce section.

You gasped, eyes lighting up as you spotted them. “Look at the tulips!”

Without thinking, you stepped closer, admiring them. “I love when they’re still closed or just starting to bloom. Not fully open—just that halfway point…”

You glanced back at Michael, smiling softly. “They’re my favorite flowers.”

You continued walking, not noticing that Michael had lingered for just a second longer.

As he passed by the cart, he glanced at the flowers again, filing it away.

Tulips. Half-bloomed. Your favorite.

He made a mental note.The two of you wander through the aisles. You grab the things on your list, while Michael picks up whatever catches his eye, things he wants, not necessarily things he needs.

You talk mostly about food. What you like, What you don’t and a few things in between.

In aisle nine, you spot a bag of Nutella Biscuits, your absolute favorite. Your friend had gotten you hooked on them.

You reach for the last bag on the shelf  and so does he.

Fingers brush.

Neither of you pulls away. Your hands linger, resting lightly over the glossy packaging.

The air shifts, quiet, still charged.

“Hey, I saw those first,” you say, raising a brow.

Michael smirks. “Pretty sure my hand got there first.”

“These are my favorites.”

“They’re my guilty pleasure.”

You narrow your eyes. “Oh don’t think I won’t fight you for these, old man—because I will.”

“Oh, you think you’re so funny,” he scoffs out a laugh.

You quickly yank the bag toward you. “Mine!”

“Come here!”

He steps forward, catching you around the waist, gently pulling you back against his chest. His arm wraps around you as he tries to grab the bag from your hands.

You shriek out a giggle. You twist and thrash against him, laughing, still clutching it. “Michael!”

“Hand it over!” he laughs

“Robby?” a voice calls suddenly from the end of the aisle.

You both freeze. Still tangled together. 

 Dana Evans, his colleague and charge nurse. His friend, the closest thing he had to a sister, stands there at the end of the aisle, eyebrows raised at the scene in front of her.

“Dana—” he says, startled. He quickly lets you go, the playful teasing evaporating as his hands fall to his sides.

“Hey,” she says, walking over with a grocery basket tucked in the crook of her arm.

You glance at Michael. There’s a flicker in his eyes, like surprise, maybe discomfort. His posture stiffens, the easy playfulness from a moment ago gone.

It almost feels like he doesn’t want her to see you together.

And that… stings more than you expect.

“Who’s this?” She asked to move closer to the two of you. 

You step in quickly, offering a polite smile and introducing yourself “…I'm his neighbor. Just… a friend.”

You don’t mean to sound awkward, but the words come out carefully, almost rehearsed—like you’re making sure they land a certain way.

Was she someone he was seeing? And here you are, being too playful, too comfortable with him. You didn’t mean to cross any lines, to overstep any boundaries. That wasn’t your intent.

“Right..” She nods. “I’m Dana,” she smiles, but gives Michael a look. 

You felt out of place—like maybe you had crossed a line after all. Like you were standing somewhere you didn’t belong.

You hold out the bag, whacking him in the stomach with it, not on purpose just out of being flustered. “I uh.. I don’t want these anymore. You can have them.” 

Michael blinked, taking the bag from you, confusion flickering in his eyes as you started walking away.

“Where are you going?” he asked, noticing the shift in your tone, in your posture.

Without meeting his eyes, you kept straight, not looking back “I just remembered—I, uh, need to grab something from another aisle.”

It’s a lie, you both knew it was, you don’t wait for a response as you turn the corner, needing more distance than biscuits.

Michael he calls after you, he watches disappear, the forgotten bag of Nutella biscuits still in his hand.

Your voice, your expression, the way you wouldn’t meet his eyes—it all hit Michael harder than he expected. He hadn’t even gotten the chance to introduce you to Dana before you slipped away.

His attention goes back to Dana. She had only laughed. “Oops. Didn’t mean to scare her off…”

“She probably thinks we’re dating,” Michael muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. “With you eyeing her down like that.”

Dana shot him a look. She threw a hand up, still grinning “That’s your fault! You didn’t introduce me fast enough! I run to the grocery store for oat milk and walk into aisle nine to find my friend pressed up against a woman, playfully fighting over cookies!”

She begins to get noisy.

“So who is she?” She was waiting for him to give her more information about who you are and the moment between the two she witnessed. 

Michael rolled his eyes and placed the Nutella biscuits into the grocery cart with a little more force than necessary. “Dana, don’t start—” knowing what she’s thinking. 

“Oh, come on!” Dana said, nudging him with her elbow. “Robby, she’s cute! You’ve clearly been spending time with her. How long has that been going on?! How come you never mentioned her?” Dana asked, with a smile on her face

Michael let out a breath and maintained his composure, pushing the cart forward a few inches. “Because Dana, nothing is going on. She’s just my neighbor.”

“She looked a lot more than a “neighbor” when I entered the aisle.” Dana said with a knowing look, cocking her head in the direction you’d disappeared.

He rolled his eyes.

He started pushing his cart, turned down the next aisle, hoping the shelves of canned goods might somehow end the conversation. “Dana, please drop it.”

Dana wasn’t going to drop it. She fell in step beside him, her gaze sharp. “So you’re seeing her?”

He froze, picking up a can of beans off the shelf, his fingers brushing the label like it held the answer. “No, I’m not seeing her. She has a boyfriend” 

Dana arched her brow. “That didn’t answer the question. You’re not seeing her—but are you wanting to?”

Michael didn’t respond right away. He turned the can in his hand, then returned it to the shelf, avoiding her eyes. “It doesn’t matter. Like I said, she’s got someone.”

“But you don’t,” Dana pointed out, a note of challenge in her voice. “And last I checked, play fighting over cookies and laughing like that isn’t how you act with someone you’re indifferent to.”

He gave her a look, sharp and tired all at once. “You’re reading too much into it.”

“I’m reading what was right in front of me. Body language doesn’t lie, Robby”

Michael exhaled, dragging a hand through his hair. “She’s easy to be around, okay? She’s funny, she’s sweet. I like her company, but we’re just friends. I'm not trying to mess with someone who’s already in a relationship. I just help her out with stuff, you know be a neighbors ” 

Dana softened just slightly. “That’s not what it looks like on my end”

“Think what you want Dana, but she and I are friends. That’s all. Nothing more.”

He started pushing the cart down the aisle, leaving her standing behind. “I gotta finish shopping,” he muttered—and find you, he thought.

“We’ll continue this conversation later, Michael!” she called after him.

“No we won’t, Dana!” he yelled back in a sing-song tone as he turned into the next aisle.

—-

You were in the freezer section, staring at the wall of ice cream like you were deep in thought about flavors, though your mind was still spinning from the moment with Michael and awkward interaction with the woman Dana.

From the corner of your eye, you saw him approaching with the cart.

“So ice cream was that important, huh?” Michael said, pulling up beside you. “That’s what made you run off?”

You didn’t look at him right away. “I didn’t run off.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Uh, yeah, you kinda did. You didn’t even give me a chance to introduce you to Dana.”

“I didn’t want to be in the way…” 

“You weren’t in the way” 

Silence falls between the two of you. 

“So you and Dana?” you ask, trying to sound casual, but the question comes out a little too pointed.

“I work with her,” Michael replies. “She’s the dayshift charge nurse—”

You nod, not really sure what to say, or what exactly you’re feeling. You weren’t trying to pry. Not really. 

Then it hits you—a wave of guilt, sharp and sudden. You start replaying the moment in the aisle. The laughter, the teasing, the way you’d been so at ease with him. If Dana was someone he was seeing, the whole scene would have easily been misread. Maybe you were too comfortable. Too close. You hadn’t meant to cross a line, but now you’re afraid you had.

Before the guilt can fully settle in, Michael speaks again—his voice softer now, his eyes steady on you, like he already knows exactly where your thoughts have gone.

“Dana’s like a sister,” he says, and somehow, it’s like he’s reading your mind.

His tone is calm, even—but there’s a quiet urgency there, tucked just beneath the surface. Like he wants to be sure you hear him. Like it matters that you believe it.

You look at him “Oh… I thought you two were…”

“I know what you must’ve thought,” he interrupts gently, “but it’s not like that. Our coworkers joke that we're ‘work spouses,’ but she’s just my friend. We’ve known each other a long time. That’s all.”

He doesn’t really know why he feels the need to clarify all of that to you. He shouldn’t care what you think. But deep down, he does for some reason. 

A beat passes.

“Are you… seeing anyone?” you ask, your voice softer this time. You don’t know what made you ask. Curiosity, maybe since the two of you were sorta on the topic. 

“No,” he says after a moment, shaking his head. “I haven’t dated in a while.”

There’s a quiet honesty in the way he says it. Not embarrassed. Just real. His eyes flick up to meet yours, and for a second, neither of you says anything.

You wondered how he was still single.

Michael was kind. Steady. The kind of man who listened, who remembered little things, who made you feel like you mattered. He wasn’t flashy, but he didn’t need to be. Just being around him made you feel calm.

Any woman would be lucky to have him.

He seemed like the kind of person who wouldn’t make you question where you stood. Who would show up, say how he felt, and mean it.

You let the thought pass. 

“So…should I get Mint Chocolate Chip or Cookie Dough?” 

“Mint”

“Alright, Mint Chocolate chip it is” you open the door in the freezer section, and placing it into the cart. 

——-

“Here, let me get those—” Michael reached for your reusable bags  along with his at check out. 

“Michael, stop,” you said, trying to swat his hands away. “I can carry my own groceries.”

“I know you can,” he said, easily slipping them from your grip. “But you shouldn’t have to.”

“They’re heavy, and—Michael, no—”

“Stop arguing with me and just let me carry the groceries,” he said, giving you a pointed look.

You huffed, but there was no real heat behind it. “Fine.”

He smiled, victorious. “Thank you for your cooperation.”

The two of you walked back to the apartment, climbing the stairs to the sixth floor, reusable bags in hand—well, in his hands. You stopped in the hallway, right between your doors.

“Thanks tagging along with me,” you said, turning toward him. “And for carrying my groceries… which, I’m more than capable of doing.” You take your bags from his hands. 

“Thanks for letting me tag along, and I know you can carry your own groceries,” Michael said, his voice low and easy. “But that doesn’t mean you should have to.”

“Oh—before I forget,” Michael said, reaching into one of his reusable bags.

He pulled out a small bouquet of tulips, their soft petals just beginning to open, one of the bouquets you were admiring earlier. 

You gasped. “Michael, what? When did you get these? I was with you the whole time!”

“I have my ways,” he said with a teasing grin.

You looked at him, touched. Your pout wasn’t sad—just soft, surprised, the kind that tugged at the heart.

“Thank you, they’re beautiful” 

“Oh, here—take these,” he says with a grin, holding out the Nutella cookies like a peace offering, but his eyes are still challenging.

You shake your head. “You take them.”

He scoffs, clearly amused. “Well, you fought me for them.”

You raise an eyebrow, smirking. “Technically, I didn’t win.”

“Neither did I,” he says, shrugging like it's no big deal, but the tension in the air suggests otherwise.

A beat passes. Then, with a mischievous glint in your eye, you suggest, “How about we rock-paper-scissors for them?”

“Alright, you’re on,” he replies,

You both set your bags down with a soft thud, the hallway around you oddly quiet as you face each other.

The air feels a little charged as you both prepare. The competitive energy lingers in the air. Michael steps back, getting into position with an exaggerated stance.

“Alright ready?” He asks.

You nod in response.

"Rock-Paper-Scissors-Shoot!" you both say in unison, your hands moving in perfect sync.

You take a deep breath and throw your hand out confidently—rock.

His hand, paper, covers your rock.

“Haha! Sucker!” he cackled, snatching the bag from the ground and holding it over his head like a trophy.

You gasped, mock-offended. “You are the worst!”

“I am the champion,” he corrected, already walking in a victory strut toward his door. “Rock? Really? Rookie move.”

You shook your head, laughing as you scooped up your bags. “Enjoy them — I hope they go stale before you open them.”

He glanced back over his shoulder with a grin. “Joke’s on you. I’m opening them now.”

And with that, he tore open the bag, popped a biscuit into his mouth, and held another one out toward you — his smile softening just slightly.

“Want one?” he offered.

You hold out your hand, and he rattles the bag to get one out for you. 

“Thanks,” you said, biting into the biscuit.

You held out your hand, and he gently rattled the bag until one slid free. He placed it in your palm like it was something more than a cookie.

“I’ll see you later, Michael.”

You unlocked it, picked up your bags, and stepped inside.

“I’ll see you around,” he called, turning toward his side of the hallway.

The door closed behind you, but the smile stayed — along with the taste of chocolate and something just a little sweeter.

Tags: @im-nowhere-but-also-somewhere @beebeechaos @antisocialfiore @delicatetrashtree @xxxkat3xxx @homebytheharbor @woodxtock @letstryagaintomorrow @livingavilaloca @elkitot @annabellee88 @hagarsays @emma8895eb @the-goddess-of-mischief-writing @jazzimac1967 @lafemme-nk @kmc1989 @whos6claire @harrysgothicbitch @trustme3-13 @qardasngan @silas-aeiou @k3ndallroy @ohmystrawberrycheesecake @ay0nha @404creep @dantemorenatalie @obfuscateyummy @steviebbboi @alliegc28 @catmomstyles3 @ardentistella @madprincessinabox @circumspectre @the-one-with-the-grey-color @thatchickwiththecamera @violetswritingg

Across The Hall (1) (2) (3) (4) (5)

[woogilicious]

offline messages ꒰ yunho ꒱

⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ pairing: streamer!yunho x gn!reader. ⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ word count: 1039 words. ⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ genre: angst + fluff. ⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ warnings: mild angst, emotional neglect (unintentional), feelings of being left behind, fluff at the end.

You were there before the follower goals, and fancy mic setup. Back when Yunho streamed from a wobbly IKEA desk and his only viewers were you and that one random bot that kept posting shady links.

Back then, his face would light up when he saw your name in chat.

"Yo!" he'd grin, headset slightly tilted. "You're here!"

Of course you were. You always were.

You modded his streams before he even asked. Built his discord server from scratch. Stayed up past midnight helping him troubleshoot lag while playing Valorant. You even tolerated the scream fest during Lethal Company session with San, Mingi, and Wooyoung―all chaos, max volume, all the time.

And when things took off―when Twitch clipped him into the algorithm and the chat exploded with new fans, you celebrated with him. You were proud. You really were.

But you also started feeling... invisible.

It started small. A joke you made in chat went ignored. Then another. Then another.

You chalked it up, at first. That's what growing meant―more people, more chaos. But then he stopped replying to your DMs. Took hours to answer simple messages. And one day, you noticed your mod label was gone. No explanation. No "thanks for everything." Nothing at all.

You watched one of his streams that night, lurking, your name is grey in a sea of neon usernames. Someone made a crude joke. You called it out. Yunho didn't even notice, until a stranger timed you out.

That was the last stream you watched live.

You muted the server. Turned off notifications. Closed the tab. He never reaches out. Not once.

Months passed.

One night, you're scrolling through your phone, brain on autopilot, when you see his name. Yunho is live: Unpacking + chatting. You shouldn't care. You don't.

But you click.

He's streaming Unpacking, of all things. Soft music, quiet atmosphere, just him and the sound of cardboard boxes being emptied on screen. There's no Wooyoung yelling in the background, no San whining about being scared―just Yunho. Focused. A little tired. His laugh softer tonight.

You shouldn't message him.

But your fingers move anyway, finding his name in your message app.

Are you okay?

You send it. Regret it instantly. Consider deleting it, but then―

yunho: wait yunho: wait wait wait yunho: is this real?? yunho: y/n... i thought u blocked me or smth

You stare at the screen, looking at his stream while his attention turns to his phone.

you: figured you wouldn't notice either way yunho: ... yunho: okay. i deserve that. yunho: i miss you. a lot.

You don't reply right away, and you close the Twitch app.

The next day, he sends you a message privately in discord.

yunho: can we talk?

You call. It's weird, at first. The silence between you used to be comfortable, easy. Now it's cautious. Hesitant.

But he tries.

"I don't know when I started messing it up," he says, voice quiet. "I think... I just got caught up in everything. I didn't mean to shut you out."

You shrug, even though he can't see you. "You kind of did, though."

"I know. I just... didn't want you to feel like you had to carry my stuff forever. You helped me so much and I kept thinking, maybe you deserved to just... live your life. Not babysit my stream."

You snort. "You took away my mod role without saying a word. The least you can do is tell me."

He winces. "Yeah. That was stupid."

"You think?"

He laughs. It's small, and it is obvious that he is nervous.

"Let me fix it," he says. "Please."

It's not instant. It's not perfect.

But you start showing up again. Not as a mod, but just as his friend.

He messages you in the middle of the night about weird games you'd both like. Sends you dumb voices notes of Mingi farting on call. You hop into discord during late-night gaming, and he still screams in panic when he gets chased in scary games, but now, he screams your name too.

And one night, he messages:

yunho: do you want to do a stream together soon? you: what would we even play? yunho: idc. minecraft? stardew? anything. i just want to hang out with you on stream.

You agree, and the next night, it's Minecraft night.

The stream starts slow, chill lo-fi music playing in the background. Yunho decides to do a member only stream, which means the chat is smaller, cozier. The mods keep it clean. No chaos whatsoever.

"Special guest tonight, their name is Y/N" Yunho says, grinning. "My oldest friend. Like actual old. We've known each other since middle school."

You laugh. "You're few months older than me."

Chat, on the other hand, explodes with excitement:

xXxgamerraccoon12: brooo you can see yunho smiling like an idiot fluffyhorsie: their voice sounds so soothing!! i love them already!! bananapie481: we need more cozy game with y/n!!

You two fish, farm, fight monsters, collect materials. It's easy.

Halfway through the stream, you forget the camera's even on.

"You're different when it's just us," you say quietly.

Yunho hums. "Different how?"

"Less loud, less performative. More... you."

He doesn't say anything right away, just smiling while mining some woods for their house. Then, softly. "That's because you bring out the parts of me I actually like."

Your chest tightens.

"You know I was really scared," he adds. "That you'd never message me again. That I lost you for good."

You exhale. "You almost did."

"I know."

Silence.

Then, your character walks over and gifts his character a flower.

It's just pixels, but Yunho makes a sound that's a little too real.

"What?"

"What do you mean what? Maybe I just like giving you flowers."

His voice is barely a whisper. "God, I missed you so much."

The stream ends with your character standing next to his inside your finish small cozy wooden house.

Chat's spamming hearts. Fan edit already being posted. People are begging for another duo stream.

Once he turns off his stream, he says, "Don't log off yet."

You stay.

His voice is warm through your headset.

"Let's play another day?"

You smile. "Sure, Yunho. I'll be here."

This time, you know he believes it.

And this time, you do too.

[vaneezasangels]

master the subjects you hate: a how-to guide (from someone who has done it) ˖ ࣪ ·͜·♡ 𝜗𝜚˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡ 📔🎀

have you ever had that one subject which has always been your problem subject? where every time you study it or sit in class and see others succeeding effortlessly, all you find yourself wishing is that you could just master it and move on with your life?

well, this was me my entire life, up until a few years ago. the dreaded subject? mathematics. but instead of suffering endlessly under the torture of its reign over me - I decided to take a different approach. what if i could master it? no longer have it haunt my shoulder in life?

well, that's exactly what i did.

and now? i'm a biomedical engineering major.

okay, okay. am i saying you will now become a famous philosopher, writer, mathematician, historian, artist, etc. by following these tips? of course not. it can happen though. or at minimum, that subject won't be an enormous pain in your side anymore. which is very much worth it, in my opinion <3

♡ step 1: get clear about your goals.

first, you need to outline how you envision yourself. back when I was in grade 10, there was a moment when I realized just how annoyed I was with not understanding math. i took out my journal and started writing out my goals for the subject. what did I want? i wanted to be able to solve problems effortlessly and get my homework done. i wanted to truly understand the subject - not just enough to finish the homework but enough that I could write any test and ace it.

back when i changed my study game, it was all during covid, when we all went online during school. i was in grade 9, and with those last few months of school online and with the summer, I decided to change my life.

if anyone remembers 2020/2021, im sure you remember the craze over bullet journalling. that's what I used for all this. i used it to plan out my days, which let to me planning out different things I visualized myself as I changed my life, and that included mastering my subjects and becoming that studious it girl.

write out these goals. figure out exactly what you want. make a vision board, use Pinterest, use your notes app. figure out who you want to be.

♡ step 2: romanticize (but not in the way you think).

if you've made it this far, you may be like "this is such generic advice for general goal planning. what is so revolutionary about journalling ?" stick with me. trust. this is the step that revolutionized my study game. it made me go from someone considered a pretty good student to someone that teachers would talk about, someone who was not just pretty good but excellent.

so what did i do? its not "romanticize" the way everyone uses the word these days, exactly. and its not really a very pretty or aesthetic method. but it works.

see everything with a different lens.

take math, for example. the way i always viewed the subject was basically just something I would probably never understand, something I just wasn't gifted in. i was always a really good writer, remember? i was going to do a bachelor of arts in psychology and go to med school and be a doctor. so math? wasn't my thing. i never understood it the way my friends seemed to so effortlessly do. but that still bothered me greatly.

and it had to change.

instead of viewing it as this enigma, I took a more pragmatic approach. what if I simply broke every single concept down to its most simple parts? and what if... i changed the narrative? instead of it being hard, difficult, not naturally gifted at, impossible... what if I just pretended I loved everything?

i call this "romanticizing", or more accurately probably, gaslighting. i kept telling myself over and over and over again that I loved this subject. specifically, I repeated these a million times and deliberately in my head:

✧ i love math so much!!!!

✧ math has and always comes so naturally to me

✧ math is my favourite subject

✧ math is actually really easy, all I have to do is break down the topics

✧ i can understand every single thing I learn

✧ i am a math prodigy

years later, manifestation and the law of affirmation really started gaining traction in social media. but its funny, I accidentally invented this strategy for myself when I was 15. I didn't even know what manifestation was; I just decided that I wanted to no longer struggle. and look, here's an important fact to remember: I did not do all of this so I could become an engineer. i literally wanted to be a doctor, and becoming an engineer was a funny side-effect of becoming so good at math and wanting to pursue it more than other subjects. with this method, which I still use, I actually, genuinely fell in love. It taught me where my true interests lie.

some other essential things i did?

✧ inspire myself with history and context. i always loved history and research. if I wanted to inspire myself into a topic, I researched the history behind the mathematical subject. for example, for trig, I researched where the original trig functions, cosine, sine and tangent came from, learning the history behind mathematics and Egypt. and let me tell you, I never forgot my trig functions after that.

✧ ask the teacher for help every single time I had even the smallest, most insignificant question. and if still no good answer i google, and then, only then, do i ask my friends for help. teachers are literally paid to help you. so many students forget this and get intimidated. don't let this be you. what sets top and stellar students apart is doing uncomfortable things. i literally don't care if you sit with the teacher the entire class, lunch, after school etc to understand that topic. you do what needs to be done.

✧ master every single small detail. i started realizing that all the small details of misunderstanding were what were hindering my understanding. you know when you do a problem and there's this baby question you have that stops your understanding at like 85% instead of 100%, and you're too lazy to ask the teacher or a friend or you just don't get a good answer and drop it? don't do this. i became obsessive about ensuring I understood a concept literally 110% before moving on. the history research helped so much with this. i remember even for chemistry, I would read university-level pages on topics so by the time the test came, I would be such a master at the topic I felt like I could teach the teacher, or write and mark the test. true understanding and passion made me not just a master of a topic but genuinely intelligent and able to come up with my own interpretations, opinions and shortcuts in my subjects. you would think opinions and interpretations are only in the arts. you would be mistaken.

now this point all might be a little controversial since it may seem a little obsessive and time-consuming, but anything worth it takes resources. and I never said it was a pretty method. but it does work.

✧ stopped viewing teachers in a negative light. you know how when you have a teacher and everyone says, "this is the worst teacher ever, you will hate them" or "I feel so bad for you, no one has ever passed in their class"? danger, danger, danger. never let others form opinions for you. i started ignoring absolutely every single thing a person said about a teacher. i started gaslighting myself into beliveivg every single teacher was amazing and would help me and I have no issues with them whatsoever. now of course this doesn't count if there is a serious issue with a teacher where they are doing things that need to be reported. I'm talking about when everyone hates a teacher for being a hard marker or a bad explainer. don't view your teachers in that way. and it won't make you a teacher's pet, trust me. after I did this, teacher's were so warm towards me and I really became memorable to them, especially since I would ask so many questions (helpful for letters of reccomendation). i remember there was this one teacher we had where literally no one, in all his years of teaching, would ever get more than a 60% on a paper. everyone hated this man. but I focused on what he wanted from us: and delivered. which no one ever did. i realized he was pushing us to write the best papers we ever could. and I got 100s in his class. people literally had no idea how I did it. i simply smiled. and my writing skills after being taught by him and listening? insane.

♡ step 3: watch your life change.

okay, here's the part where things really come together. once you start with one subject, watch the effect spread to your other ones. once i mastered math, you better believe i did the same thing with physics. this subject especially i ignored everyone's perceptions and focused on myself and my own learning. i didn't care what other's thought at all. this expanded to chemistry, and biology.

what was interesting what its effect on english and history. i mentioned that i was already a pretty decent writer and was doing well in these subjects. but all of this? i subconsciously started applying these principals to these subjects, too. it made me a phenomenal writer. and i started reading more, more advanced books, asking more questions, thinking more deeply, writing more complexly, all applying these principals.

♡ conclusions.

once you become passionate about something, replace negative thoughts/phrases with positive ones, watch your life change. that passion? it will show you what you are actually, truly interested in. i was always an ambitious child, i always wanted to be a doctor. not because my parents wanted me to but because i had an interest in medicine, though i was always on the fence about dealing with patients everyday since its not really my thing exactly. but once i started realizing i am the master of my fate, and i can master anything i want, i realized that i was very interested, talented and passionate about the intersection of technology and medicine. i went from ambitious.... to driven, sharp, laser-focused, a force to be reckoned with.

i could talk endlessly about this. its something i am very proud of and has genuinely, sincerely changed my life.

if you have any questions, let me know below. and if you want to learn more about biomedical engineering, let me know and i will consider making a separate post about it ! thanks for reading <3

[sevikasfemme]

my hands are shaking from holding back from you —

— baby's first fic 🥺👉👈 !! i'm a poet and this is my first time writing a full fic for a character so of course it's about our wife, Sevika ❤️

💋you and sevika broke up a month ago; you taunt her to the point of lightly embarrassing you on a phone call with makeup sex 🤭

💋title is just direct lyrics of Dress by Taylor Swift ; fic has loose inspo/association— middle photo tile is a crop from a piece i commissioned by danacrowart❤️

content tags: lesbian sex, reader has a vagina, femme!reader, bottom!reader, top!sevika, jealousy, possessiveness, dom/sub undertones, strap-on use, impact play, implied/referenced drug use, breakup/makeup, some fluff, semi-public sex

word count: 4.6k | read on ao3 | bluesky

You and Sevika had broken up nearly a month ago. She had given you some bullshit excuse about fearing for your wellbeing because of her line of work—fucking self-sabotaging martyr that she was. You called her out on it; told her it was a stupid reason to end the relationship, and she didn’t even argue. Instead, she had the nerve to attempt to reassure you that, despite your shared social circles, things wouldn’t be awkward because the two of you would still be “best friends.” 

You later found out from Ran that there had been some threat made by a disgruntled enforcer involving you, and knowing Sevika, that was probably the impetus that led to her even considering ending things with you. Your safety being at risk. It didn’t change that you were heartbroken, angry, and tear-stained on the best of the days after she left. Not to say that she was doing much better; she’d started chain smoking between glasses of whiskey in the mornings, losing terribly in her games at the last drop; hell, she’d been too dysregulated to work the first three days following the breakup. Silco had never seen her so emotionally volatile.

Despite your heartache, you spent the weeks apart trying to forget Sevika, while all she did was mope in the memory of you—wrestling with her decision that led to her own misery. Inevitably, your friends encouraged you to ‘get back out there,’ to which you, a bit too eagerly, agreed. Were you almost solely motivated by the thrill of potentially seeing Sevika at a location she was known to frequent? Maybe. Still, you let them preen over you, hyping you up as they fawn over how pretty you look; hair and makeup done in the way you knew Sevika liked. The dress you slipped into was not one she had personally seen or had the opportunity to praise. Still, it was her favorite color— something you’d intentionally noted when you bought it out of spite, vying for the opportunity to flaunt it in her direction. It had become the catalyst in your daydreams of getting back together with her— daydreams that were borderline maladaptive, at this point... Still, if she was going to insist on remaining apart, you were going to make her regret it.

The Last Drop never changed— buzzing and neon; alive with shimmer-filled patrons whose pupils were too wide. Arms linked with your friends, letting them move you, you enter the familiar space—your eyes were trained on Sevika’s regular spots; searching for her. You hoped to see her brooding at the end of the stairwell, peacocking while she plays poker in one of the round booths, or smoking near the exit door in the back. Alas, to your disappointment, your eyes don’t find hers, and you are suddenly less interested in being out at all. 

For most of the evening, you mindlessly swipe on one of your dating apps, barely engaged in the conversation amongst your friends. You match with several mildly interesting people—you even set up a date for later that night—but you’re bored; and your eyes keep flitting around the space, hoping for a glimpse of Sevika. The hours tick by, and you’re almost ready to make your friends take you home—but then you hear her voice behind you, saying your name, her tone riddled with confusion, inquisition, and something else you can’t place. 

For a moment, everything around you seems to just stop. Your eyes lock with hers and it’s as if the last month apart never happened. 

“Why are you here?” she continues— and her tone; it doesn’t sit right with you. Your features settle into a glare, as the prior month of yearning to be with her slams to the forefront of your mind. You were pissed. You open your mouth to give her a smart-ass reply when her voice cuts you off.

“C’mere. We need to talk,” she grunts, her prosthetic fingers curling around your arm unexpectedly, drawing a noise of protest from you. You roll your eyes before letting her drag you upstairs to her office, shooting your friends a look that says, ‘I’m fine’ before she pushes you into the room and kicks the door closed. 

Now she’s scowling down at you, and you’re giving it right back to her, crossing your arms.

“A ‘hello’ would have been preferable.” you snap. Sevika doesn’t flinch or react, sighing before leaning against the door. 

“Why are you here?” she says again, although this time she almost sounds sad. 

Your expression falters only slightly before you reply harshly, “Am I not allowed to be?”

Sevika scoffs, shaking her head, her short hair falling in her face. “You never come to The Last Drop unless I’m with you. You have no interest otherwise—”

You snort, interrupting her. “That was when we were dating,” you clarify, stepping forward and tilting your head slightly to glare up at her. Her eyebrows pull into a concerned arch, her expression softening. She’s looking at you like she’s worried about you, almost making you ease up. Almost. You step closer, examining her. You still cared about her…still loved her, so of course, seeing the subtle bags under her eyes made you wonder if she was taking care of herself. 

“Are you…mad that I’m here?” you ask hesitantly, trying not to fidget with your nails. You were worried; feeling guilty for being so desperate to see her, considering your appearance at The Last Drop had made her look at you like you as if you were a ghost. Now, of course, you were ridiculing yourself for potentially hurting her more by being here. Nevertheless, you were also grappling with the fact that she broke up with you; so did she really have any right to look so distraught at your presence alone? 

She seems surprised at your question, glancing down at your almost-fidgeting fingers, and then it clicks for her; your aloof, irritable demeanor is disingenuous.  A smirk crept onto her face, and you picked up on the upward turn of her mouth. 

You scoff, stepping back away and shaking your head, “Forget I asked—” Now she’s grabbing your arm again. 

“Sweet of you to care, but m’not mad,” she mumbles, “just surprised. Thought I broke your heart,” she clicks her tongue, shaking her head and looking you over. “But clearly you’re doing just fine,” she notes, her eyes lingering on your curves too long. 

“You did break my heart– you insufferable––” You cut yourself off, taking a deep breath and rolling your eyes. You let her circle you before raising your eyebrow at her. “You don’t own the place, you know…” you protest, wanting to know what she’s thinking–what her intentions were, trying to coax it out of her. 

Sevika runs her prosthetic fingers over the strap of your dress, tugging it lightly to bring you closer to her, humming, “Interesting choice of words…” She moves to touch your face, and you swat her hand away. 

“Stop flirting; why did you drag me up here? I’m not leaving just because you’re pissed off that I’m —” 

She huffs at you, snapping the strap of your dress back to your skin, “I’m not pissed off, you brat,” she snaps, pushing you back into the door, her prosthetic arm caging you in as she leans against you, her flesh hand gripping your waist to move you slightly, then reaching behind your hip to lock the door. 

You huff back at her action, “and why are you doing that?” you ask, your eyes flicking down to her hand. Sevika laughs mockingly and runs her hand back up your side. 

“Do you want to be interrupted?” she asks, grinning at you. You look at her in disbelief, a laugh escaping you. 

“Oh no, we are not having sex,” you shake your head, “you have lost your mind if you think—” Your words die on your tongue as her hand shoots up to grip your hair, tugging your head back to look at her. 

“Say that again,” she demands lowly “Tell me, ‘we aren’t having sex’ again, and I’ll stop. I’ll stop coming to The Last Drop altogether,” she smirks, watching your eyes flicker, glazing over–briefly–before sharpening back into a glare. 'Stubborn', she thinks to herself. She chuckles at your lack of response, dropping her head to kiss at your throat. Under normal circumstances, this would be enough to make you cave, to let her throw you on her desk and submit to her like she wanted—but now? You were livid, shocked at her audacity— she broke up with you.

“You have lost it.” You hiss, pushing at her with your fists on her chest. Her gray eyes look hurt before she narrows them at you again, grabbing your chin with her prosthetic hand to make you look up at her. 

“Are you truly trying to pretend that you didn’t come here, dolled up how I like you,” she wets her lips as she eyes your dress “in this new little number, hoping to see me?” she goads, challenging you. You push at her again, and she laughs. “Admit it—you’re dressed up for me, you want me back,” she smirks. 

You turn around to try and leave through the door, fed up with her attitude as you fumble with the lock. Then you feel her grab your wrists, pinning you to the door once again, her front now pressed to your back.

“Admit it” she repeats. You shake your head, rolling your eyes, deciding to poke the bear… 

“I have a date tonight,” you snap, looking at her over your shoulder, watching her face fall into anger. It was as if you had knocked the wind out of her; she could not stand hearing that you had a date planned. The thought of someone else, the sheer potential of someone else, looking at you, touching you, kissing you, hearing you moan their name the way you moaned hers— she wanted to choke you for even suggesting that as a possibility; wanted to hold you down and remind you who you belonged to. 

“Cancel it.” She hissed. 

“No—” you snipe back immediately, your eyes flicking to your phone in your bag. 

Sevika followed your eyes, and rage struck through her as she realized you were planning to keep your date. She wasn’t thinking straight at this point, her possessiveness and jealousy pushing her over the edge. She released one of your wrists, whipping you around to face her and reaching to snatch your phone with the other. Her body was trembling from anger as she loomed above you, her dark gaze locking on yours, her expression cold. 

“Cancel your date.” She said firmly, her tone leaving no room for argument, but it just eggs you on, and now you’re fully committed to pissing her off. 

“Why would I do that?” You ask innocently, your teeth dripping with saliva as you smirk at her. “You’re my ex, Sevika, I don’t have to listen to anything you say,” you sneer. Sevika blinks, shocked at your disobedience, something she was not used to in her relationship with you. 

You take it further, grinning, “What? Are you not used to hearing me tell you no?” you taunt, “maybe you should have thought about that before you—” 

SLAP.

The sound of her flesh hand connecting with your cheek is followed by buzzing silence, and you’re acutely aware of the heat pooling in your tummy. You blink back tears, your widened eyes finding hers again. She’s glaring. 'Oh fuck', you think, your face flushing pink from the sting of her slap. 

“You know better.” she says, rubbing softly at the spot on your cheek she’d smacked. You open your mouth to say something, but she’s shaking her head. Sevika grabs a fistful of your hair in her metal hand and drags you across the room, sweeping your legs up and from under you onto the couch before pushing your face into the worn linen of the cushion. 

“If you won’t cancel your date on your own–” she mumbles, lifting your ass and angrily shoving your dress up around your waist, your dampened panties now on display for her, “I’m going to help you,” she snaps, smirking down at your arousal seeping through the cotton of your underwear. You move to sit up, and she splays her fingers across your back, keeping you down. Sevika sucks her teeth, shaking her head as you hear her move her other hand to un-do her pants. That’s a sound you’re familiar with… 

“Sevika–” you protest with warning before your breath catches at the feel of her tugging your panties to the side; familiar silicone slipping up to nudge your clit. You jolt, your back arching further under her hand on your back. Sevika could not believe you had so casually refused her. She may have been the one to end things, but that was for your own safety; how could you be so oblivious to that rationale? 

It didn’t matter now, though. As far as Sevika was concerned, you were hers, and you apparently needed a reminder that no one else could give you what she could; that no one else was allowed to touch you. Her expression softens as she leans over you, nudging your ear with her nose. 

“Tell me,” she starts, a gentleness in her tone that was agonizingly familiar, “do you want me to stop?” she asks, earning a quick shake of your head as you look back up over your shoulder to meet her gaze. She smirks. “Atta girl,” she murmurs, pecking your cheek.

 “And your pretty face? you okay?” she soothes, letting her lips linger on your cheek until you nod again. Then she’s moving back up and positioning herself behind you. She bites her lip, pleased at the way your thighs spread for her as she begins prodding at you with the tip of her strap. She grunts, her hand on your back moving to dig its nails into the soft flesh of your ass.

“Fuck…” she curses under her breath, squeezing your rear before shifting her grip, opening you more for her as she slowly leans her weight into you, her eyes glued to how your pussy swallows her cock, inch by inch. Sevika’s too mesmerized to register you groaning at first, but when she hears you, she stills, rubbing her thumb over the soft skin of your ass, like she’s contemplating something. Then, suddenly, Sevika leans over you, snapping her hips so that she’s hilted inside of you completely. 

You yelp; panting as your fingers grasp onto the throw pillow your head was propped on. 'Mine', Sevika thinks to herself, pleased with your lack of protest. Sevika was fully convinced that she was the only one allowed to have you, and thinking about the reality that you had actually planned to go on a date—planned on letting someone else even look at you; it was more than she could damn well take. She was angry, jealous, desperate to remind you that you were hers; she slammed her hips into you repeatedly, not giving you an opportunity to adjust to her properly; she couldn’t. She needed you now. 

You whimper, eyes hazy and half-lidded as you look back over your shoulder at her. Sevika smirked, digging her fingers into your hips. Her breathing was becoming more and more dysregulated as she picked your phone back up, thumbing through your messages. She looks at you smugly.

“Do you still want to go on that date?” she asked; a syrupy, taunting sweetness in her tone as she pushed her hips against you in a hard and possessive thrust. You whine, shaking your head, unable to form words. Sevika laughs, leaning down over you again, her body covering your own as her hand tugged at your hair. 

“No?” she growls against your ear, her lips trailing against the side of your jaw “Why the change of heart, hm?” she mocks. 

A breathy, “Just want you, Sev–” leaves your parted lips; your cheeks flush with embarrassment at how easy you were for her. Your gasped confession, combined with the fact that you used her nickname, made her heart rate elevate. She knew exactly how to break you; how to make you submit. 

“What was that?” she whispered against your neck, her breath hot against your skin as she continued to softly pound into you. You groan in embarrassed frustration, struggling to form words. In your blissed-out state, you fail to notice her tabbing over to the contact of the date you had set up, and pressing down on the call button. 

Sevika couldn’t help but smirk as she did so, hearing the line start to ring. It was such a petty thing to do, but she couldn’t deny the feeling of satisfaction she got at the idea of cutting your date short before it even started. She wanted to hear you try to tell your date that you were no longer available. 

The butch remained over you, still thrusting, and held the phone to your ear. Your eyes widen and you try to silence yourself, tucking your head into the throw pillow to muffle your moans. She grinned as she saw your head turn. 

“No,” she said firmly, yanking back on your hair to pull your face out of the pillow. “Don’t you dare hold your voice back, baby.” You freeze when you hear your date’s voice on the other line as they pick up.

“Hello?” they greet, and you bite down on your lip to quiet yourself. Sevika’s smug expression remained plastered on her face as she heard them pick up. She nipped at your opposite ear, whispering to you as your date repeated their greeting, trying to get a response from you. 

“Tell them you can’t go on your date tonight,” she instructs, no longer thrusting into you, only grinding continuously, the tip of her strap rubbing deep inside you, bumping your cervix lewdly. You hesitate, and Sevika tuts, moving the hand that was gripping your hair to wrap around your throat.

“Don’t make me repeat myself—” she hissed, pulling almost entirely out of your cunt before quickly shoving herself back into you, causing you to squeak. You try, you truly try, to keep your tone even as you speak.

“H-hey—” you start, clearing your throat, “I—” 

Sevika is laughing against your ear, her hips slowly picking up pace, wanting to hear you struggle to tell them you couldn’t go. Needing to hear it. She squeezed your throat a little, encouraging you to continue. You swallow thickly, eyes rolling softly before you try to speak again.

“I’m so – ah– M’so sorry—” you stammer out. “I need to raincheck our—our—” 

Sevika chuckles at you struggling, licking the shell of your ear. “What was that, doll? I don’t think your date heard you properly.” She teased, letting go of your throat and running her hand down to palm at your breast. Your cheeks are burning pink, and you struggle to stop yourself from moaning out her name. 

“I’m just— n-not able to go tonight—” you pant through suppressed whimpers. Sevika felt a wave of possessive satisfaction rush through her, her pupils dilating. She was greedy, though, and found herself needing to drive the point home harder. She nibbles at your ear again.

“Who are you canceling this date for?” she demands. You whimper, cheeks hot as you try to avoid her question; you knew what she was doing. She hums, nipping at your earlobe and neck, her lips sloppily sucking at you. “Who? Hm?” she repeats. You couldn’t contain yourself any longer. 

“Sevika—” you moan sweetly, head dropping on the pillow again and eyes fluttering closed as you succumbed to the pleasure she was giving you, knowing your, now canceled-on date had definitely heard your erotic declaration. 

Sevika kissed your ear as she heard the moan you finally let slip after trying desperately to keep your voice in check. She moved her hand to tease at your now swollen clit, causing you to yelp. She put the phone up to her ear, ego-tripping on the way your back was arching to meet her thrusts as she spoke.

“Sorry,” she practically purred into the mic of the cellphone, her tone sardonic. “She won’t be able to make it on that date tonight. Something…came up,” she said as she imagined the confusion on your date’s face at the sound of her voice, but it was all the more satisfying when you whimpered again. She continued to speak, her fingers rubbing tight, slow circles over your twitching bundle nerves. 

“Yeah,” Sevika breathes, her own eyes half-lidded now, squeezing harshly on your clit and moaning when you jerk back on her in response, “yeah, she’s quite busy.” 

You’re keening, looking over your shoulder again to pout up at her, your cheeks rosy—embarrassed by the pornographic squelching of your cunt wrapped around her cock.​​ She caught your gaze, her eyes softening at yours as she pressed firmly on your clit again, chiding as she shook her head, her mouth pulling away from the receiver of the phone to direct her words to you. 

“Aww, baby, what’s that pout for, hm?” she coos. “Blushing because they can hear you taking it like the good girl I know you are?” 

Your lip wobbles, overstimulated and flustered; a strained cry passes your lips –“Please—no more—” 

Sevika takes pity on you, and her touch becomes gentle as she puts the phone in front of your face, her thumb hovering over the button to switch to a video call. You shriek and duck your head back into the pillow.

“Ohmygod Sev!” you protest, causing her to laugh and press a kiss to your shoulder before ending the call, tossing the phone aside. 

“Just messin’ with you, princess,” she hums, rubbing her hand soothingly through your hair before gripping at the roots, tugging your face up. “Now,” she sighs, slipping out of you and using her grip on your hair to guide you onto your back. You whimper in protest, feeling painfully empty as you pout up at her.

“What did I say about pouting, hm?” she scolds, tracing your bottom lip with her thumb. You blush under her stare, suddenly self-conscious without the distraction of the phone call. Her lip twitches into a grin as she slips her copper claws under your dress, scratching lightly at the soft fat of your torso. Your eyebrows turn upward, and your eyes close, mouth agape as you try to find words again. Sevika kisses at your jaw.

“Flattered you wore this just for me,” she coos, “but I wanna see you, honey,” she says softly, rubbing her hands up and down your sides before tugging up the hem of your dress. “Arms up, babygirl,” she instructs, slipping it up and off, immediately groaning at the sight of you, bra-less, left only in your underwear before her. Her lips are instantaneously on your neck, hands cupping your chest eagerly. 

“Missed you, baby—” she mutters into your throat. You wanted to deny her, to punish her in some way for ever leaving you in the first place, but you were too far gone, you just wanted to be close to her. Sevika slips your panties off before hiking your legs up around her hips, pressing her forehead to yours as she thrust back into you, moaning softly. Your arms come to wrap around her neck, burying your face into the dip of her shoulder. Sevika hums lowly at you clinging to her.

“M’sorry, angel,” she mumbles into your hair, kissing at your head as she fucks into you. You knew what she meant. She had clearly missed you too. 

“You– better be—” you choke out, your lower lip still puffed out slightly. Sevika moves to hold your throat, rubbing her thumb over your pulse before reaching down to roll one of your peaked nipples between her fingers, her hips snapping to you rhythmically.

“Fuck, baby—” she moans, “taking me so good— so good, angel,” she praises, moving to press two of her organic fingers against your plush lips.

“Open,” she commands. You don’t argue— your mouth parts and she slips her fingers into your mouth. “Suck,” she orders, pinching your other nipple before trailing her hand down between your legs, tapping on your clit several times as she watches you jerk from the stimulation from her prosthetic, the cold metal sending streams of isolated pleasure through you. 

She chuckles, bringing her lips to kiss at your neck—her hips were grinding into you, her thumb was on your clit, her flesh fingers were pumping in and out of your mouth, and you were seeing stars. Sevika sucks on the sensitive skin at the base of your throat, biting harshly, earning a muffled yelp from your full mouth, before laving at the spot with her tongue; soothing you. 

You paw at her shoulders, feeling overstimulated and too close to orgasm to speak, your eyes rolling as you mewl on her fingers. Sevika’s biting turns to kissing on your neck. 

“Close, hm?” she mutters against you, panting as she withdraws her fingers from your mouth, moving her right hand to work at your clit, pinching it suddenly when she pulls her metal digits up to hold you by the back of your head, tilting you so that you’re looking at her.

“You’re mine, understand me, angel?” she says firmly, drinking in the sight of you; disheveled hair, pink cheeks, mouth agape, and dilated pupils. You nod weakly, your back arching sporadically as you feel your orgasm cresting. 

She kisses your lips briefly before letting her head fall to your neck “Come for me, princess,” she encourages. “Need to feel my girl’s pretty pussy come for me,” she coos. 

Her words send you over, a strangled cry leaving your throat as you cling to her, legs trembling as your cunt clenches around her cock, your climax crashing over you; clit throbbing from Sevika’s attention. 

Sevika moans, biting down on your neck to ground herself as she continues to softly rut into you, letting you ride out your release. Her eyes flick up to stare in awe at how your lip trembles as you try to regulate your breathing. Her hips eventually still, and she releases your neck from her teeth, beginning to pepper kisses over your face, bringing both her hands to cup your cheeks. 

“My girl,” she mutters into your skin. You melt into her touch, mind still reeling from the fact that she had canceled your date in such an inflammatory way. She seems to pick up on your thoughts, and she laughs, nuzzling into your neck and sighing. 

“I’m not dumb enough to let you go twice… if you’ll still have me…” she murmurs, sounding much more vulnerable and much less cocky now. You smile, smirking softly as you scratch softly at her scalp. 

“I’ll always have you, Sev,” you reassure her, kissing her forehead. “And for the record…” you start, slyly, as she looks up at you, eyebrows raised.“I only bought this dress so you could take it off,” you say matter-of-factly. She lets out a breathy laugh, shaking her head affectionately as she pulls you into another kiss.

[hausofwoo]

handy | choi san

pairing: choi san x afab reader

word count: 5K

summary: you move into a shitty apartment with a long list of maintenance issues. your landlord puts off sending someone to fix them, only making your frustrations grow. that is, until the maintenance man finally arrives and you discover that he's hot... and you find yourself making excuses for him to keep coming back.

warnings: 18+, minors do not interact, maintenance man!san, tenant!reader, reader is kind of a perv lol, unprotected piv (wrap it up!), oral (f receiving), san is a tease, fingering, hair pulling (m receiving), cumplay, kitchen counter sex!!!, he kinda throws u around hehehe, choking, dacryphilia, use of a petname (baby), lmk if i forgot anything!

author's note: umm.... hahaha um...... so this is lowkey based on a recent experience i had of my maintenance man coming to fix some shit in my apt and he strangely had SO much rizz and i was like wait a minute.... this could be a great fic idea LMAO thank u to @hausofmingi for being my beta-reader ily always ♡

when you signed your lease at your new apartment, you didn’t expect to sign up for a list of problems.

you desperately needed a new place to live, and with the measly budget you had for rent, all that was left available were slim pickings. so when you finally found a small 1 bedroom apartment that wasn’t double your desired price, you jumped at the opportunity. you applied for the place on the spot and were approved the same day. you didn’t really think anything of it, but when you finally got settled in and actually gave a good look at your newfound home… you were in for a fucking nightmare.

for starters, the window unit in the bedroom wouldn’t blow cool air. it’s right in the heat of the summer, so coming home after a long day only to sweat all night long was not cutting it for you. you put in a maintenance request through your tenant portal app the first day when you realized this.

another annoyance was the dishwasher. one of your biggest must-haves was to have an actual working one. maybe you were asking a bit much with your budget, but with the amount that you work, it was imperative. you were thrilled to see the dishwasher during the viewing, only to find a few days worth of dirty dishes later, that said dishwasher was rusty and moldy. literally unusable. so you put in another maintenance request.

last one, and maybe now you’re just getting picky because you’re pissed, but your shower water pressure sucked, and by the time you would finish a shower, the water would take forever to drain. another request sent.

all these maintenance requests and not a single one fixed. you started to wonder if the tenant portal app even worked, so you called your landlord, only to grapple with them on finding a time for them to fix it while you’re still home. you might want these things fixed asap, but you’re not willing to let a stranger in your space when you’re not there.

you started to fucking lose it. a few weeks with no cold air, shitty water pressure, and dishes piling up your sink, and not one thing being done about it. you call your landlord one more time, urging them to finally fix these issues, arguing that they should’ve been fixed before you even moved in. and with that last push, they finally caved and did their fucking job. they said they’re sending someone there first thing tomorrow.

so when you finally wake up and go about your day-off routine, you’re constantly watching the clock. when they said “first thing tomorrow,” did they mean “first thing tomorrow once the maintenance man feels like it”? because it’s already pushing noon and you’re getting impatient. it’s obnoxious; you’re not able to run any errands (let alone actually go out and enjoy your day off) and you’re just waiting around for some dude to actually do the job you’ve been asking for for weeks.

just as you find yourself dialing the landlord’s number, you hear a knock at your door. fucking FINALLY. you jump off your couch, mind spewing profanities out of frustration. you walk towards the door, ready to give this stupid maintenance man a piece of your mind. you swing open the door, and your heart drops.

the maintenance man stands before you, with a tight black tank that hugged his muscular build and dirty worn jeans. he has a tool belt strapped to his (surprisingly small?) waist and a heavy tool box gripped in his hand. he’s a little dirty, and his chest is shiny with sweat due to the humid outside air. his rugged exterior is a huge juxtaposition to his face, however, with sharp yet kind eyes and a sweet smile.

“you need some maintenance done?” he asks.

“oh, uh, yes,” you stumble, suddenly at a loss for words. “come on in.” you hold the door open, allowing him to walk through to your living room.

“so you’re having issues with your water pressure?” he says, looking around the apartment.

“yeah, that and a few other things,” you reply. “but the biggest thing is the window unit in my room. it doesn’t blow any cold air.”

“i can fix that,” he looks at you with a grin. “which one’s the bedroom?”

you walk him to your room, thanking god he can’t see the blush forming on your face. he walks in and places his tool box down, promptly inspecting the window unit.

“i’ll just let you do your thing,” you say, twiddling your thumbs. “i’ll be in the living room if you need me.”

he nods, and you go back to sit on your couch. you mindlessly scroll through your phone, all while spiraling in your head. did your landlord hire this guy from a fucking modeling agency? he has the build for handyman work, that is certain. however, his face is what’s really getting to you. he could be on the cover of vogue and you wouldn’t bat an eye. but there he is, working on a shitty a/c window unit in your room.

you suddenly become hyper aware of the appearance of your bedroom. what does he think about your decor? is he cringing at the plushies sat on your bed? what if you left a pair of underwear out? oh my god, did you leave your nightstand drawer open, with your vibrator out for the whole world to see?

“it looks like you’ll need a whole new window unit,” he says from your room, interrupting your swarming thoughts. “this one doesn’t even have heat, and you’ll need that for winter.”

“oh, yeah,” you say, getting up and standing in your bedroom doorway. “how long will it take to get a new one? this heat has been brutal.”

“i should be able to bring one tomorrow, if you’re available,” he says, turning back to look at you as he closes up the tool box.

“i’m available,” you say all too quick. dude. be cool. “i mean, yeah, i can try to get off work a little earlier, maybe at like 3?”

“works for me,” he smiles, standing up. “can i get your number?”

you can’t hide your blush this time, nodding at the insinuation, but knowing it was just to iron out arrangements. “here,” you say, opening your phone messages so he can send himself a text.

he types away and hands your phone back. “you need a new dishwasher too, right?”

“i do,” you confirm.

“i can try and get you one by tomorrow too,” he says. “i’m off duty by like 5, so hopefully i’ll have enough time. now the shower?”

you nod and lead him to your bathroom. he examines the shower head, and you watch your cat approach him from behind.

“oh my god,” he says, startled at your cat rubbing against his leg. “this little dude came out of nowhere!” he reaches down to pet him, all while he’s purring up a storm.

“wow, he really likes you,” you stand shocked. your cat is always so standoffish to strangers, usually hiding under your bed or couch. but he’s rubbing against your maintenance man’s legs like he’s best friends with him.

“cats tend to really like me, i don’t know why,” he chuckles, scratching at your cat’s head. “what’s his name?”

“leo,” you say.

“like the zodiac sign?” he looks up at you while still petting him.

“yeah, i wanted to name him after his own sign but he’s a cancer, soooo…” you trail off, awkwardly fiddling with your hands.

“i’m a cancer!” he lights up, looking back down at leo. “no wonder we get along.”

you smile, and then realize you’re staring again. “i’ll go back in here so you can work.”

after distracting yourself with your phone again for a bit, you look up and see the man starting to walk out the bathroom doorway, already with his things together.

“okay, it should be good now, but let me know tomorrow if there’s any issues,” he says. you nod to him and lead him to the front door. you open the door and he walks out, but turns to you before he leaves. “so, i’ll see you tomorrow?” he has a smile on his face, with a hint of something behind it that you can’t quite read.

“yeah, tomorrow,” you say.

after locking the door behind him, you slump onto the couch with a big sigh. that was somehow the most nerve-wracking thing you’ve ever experienced. you remember he texted himself on your phone, so you open your messages and see the unsaved number.

sent 12:28 pm this is san :)

you can feel heat rising to your cheeks. even a stupid smiley face in a text has got you kicking your feet. you text him back, telling him your name and a quick thank you.

dear lord. this man didn’t even do anything, but he will be the death of you.

you come home early the next day, even earlier than you mentioned. partly because you wanted to clean up your place a bit, but the other part to mentally prepare yourself for a hot man in your apartment again. you clean up your room, tidying up so it looks a tad better than it did the day prior. once you’re done, you find yourself fixing up your makeup, realizing you’re putting way too much effort into seeing a fucking handyman fix your a/c.

are you really doing this? intentionally getting dolled up for this?? haha never! right….?

you hear a knock at your door and jump up. you check yourself in the mirror one last time, fixing the gloss on your lips. you go to open the door to reveal san, standing in front of you again with a familiar sweet smile on his face. you smile back too eagerly.

“i got your window unit!” he says, nodding down to the large box in his hands.

“oh, come in, that must be heavy!” you say, ushering him into your living room.

“mind if i go in your room?” he asks.

“of course, please,” you say, opening your bedroom door and letting him set the box down. you attempt to subtly watch his arms flex as he drops it. oh my god he is so hot.

you retreat to the living room as usual, allowing him to work in peace. you work on some things on your laptop to pass the time, but the thought of this man working on your a/c, muscles protruding, sweat glistening… it’s all too much of a distraction. you decide to put your ear buds in, trying to drown out your own perverse thoughts. you finally are able to hone in on your work, catching up on the things you couldn’t finish during your shift today since you left early.

you don’t realize that san finished installing the window unit until you feel a hand on your shoulder, making you jump.

“oh!” you stammer, pulling an ear bud out. “sorry, what’s up?”

san has a smile creeping on his face. “my bad, i didn’t mean to scare you. i just wanted to let you know i finished putting in the unit.”

“that’s great, thank you so much,” you say, standing up. “did you get the dishwasher today too?”

“yeah i did,” he says, but then he checks his phone for the time. you realize it’s about to hit 5 pm, and he said he’s off by that time.

“you’re almost off, i forgot,” you say apologetically. “you can just come back another day?”

he checks his phone again, contemplating. “well… i mean i already have it in my truck, so i don’t mind working a little bit over my time.”

“you really don’t have to, san,” you plead.

“it’s okay,” he says. “i’ll be right back with it!”

he exits your apartment, giving you a moment to kick yourself. having a dishwasher that works would be so great right now, but you feel guilty for having him work past his time. another part of you wants him to go anyway, if it meant he would come back again.

you hear a loud noise outside your front door, so you open it to see san with the new dishwasher on a dolly. you hold the door open for him, allowing him to enter your apartment and bee-line to the kitchen. he props the dolly down to drop the box.

“i should be able to finish this in about an hour, is that okay?” he asks, already unboxing it.

“as long as you’re okay with working this late,” you shrug.

“i don’t mind at all,” he smiles, looking up at you.

“okay, i’ll just be in here,” you point behind you, gesturing to the living room.

“alright, dishwasher is done,” san says, walking into the living room with a broken down empty box in one hand and dolly in the other.

“thank you so much,” you smile.

“is there anything else you need then?” he inquires, quirking up an eyebrow.

a moment of silence washes over the room momentarily, with you wracking your brain trying to find a reason for him to stay longer. but you push that away, knowing he’s been working way too long past his scheduled time.

“no, i think that will do it,” you sigh, unintentionally sounding disappointed.

“well,” he mumbles, toying with the box in his hand. “well you have my number, so if you need anything, feel free to shoot me a text.”

you walk him to the door, thanking him. he stands out in the hallway, you looking at him out your front door.

“really though,” he insists. “if you need anything.” with one last sweet smile, he leaves.

so what does he mean by that? “anything.” maybe you’re delusional for thinking there’s a hidden meaning behind that statement. as in, you can text him if you want him to fuck your brains out, “anything?” definitely not, but your mind wanders at the thought of it; that he’d drop everything and book it back to your apartment, heaving and sweaty, ready to take what’s his. you’re actually fucking crazy.

and to make yourself even crazier, the next few days you find yourself itching to get another reason to have him come back. you check your kitchen sink’s water pressure, it’s fine. you test out the stove for the first time and it cooked your food perfectly, no gas smell. then you find something. one of your kitchen drawers won’t close completely. it’s something small, but enough to put in a maintenance request. for the first time since you moved in, you feel grateful you live in a shitty apartment.

you swing the door open, happy to see the cute grin san always gives you the moment he sees you.

“sooo… a drawer, huh?” he quips with a hint of a teasing tone.

“y-yeah, i tried to fix it but i don’t know what i’m doing wrong,” you defend, rubbing the back of your neck.

“i can fix that,” he says, passing into the kitchen, tool box in hand. you’re ready to retreat to your living room as usual, but san stops you. “you know, you don’t have to wait around in your living room for me to finish. i like having company.”

“oh,” you mumble, turning around. “i thought you might want privacy while you work.”

“no, it’s okay,” he says, opening his tool box to grab a few items. “if you wanted, you can hang around. i like learning about the tenants i’m working for.”

“okay,” you murmur. you open a kitchen cabinet to grab two mugs. “do you want some tea?”

“i would love some tea,” he says.

you put the kettle on the stove, heating up some water. you chat with san about work, how many units he has to visit in a day, about the interesting tenants he meets, how long he’s been doing this. once the kettle starts whistling, san is already finished fixing the drawer, placing it back into it’s assigned slot. you can’t help but feel disappointed that your time with him is almost up. you put the tea bags in the mugs of hot water, offering one to san.

“i know you’re done, but if you still want it,” you say, and he accepts the drink with a grin. you both sit at your kitchen table, continuing to chat. your cat leo enters the kitchen, going to straight to san’s legs to rub against him.

“there’s my boy,” san coos, scratching leo’s head.

“i still can’t get over how much he likes you,” you laugh. “he’s never this friendly, he’s only like this with me.”

“he seems friendly to me,” san says. “maybe he just has good taste in people.”

you chuckle, wondering in the back of your mind if he meant that about you too.

san checks his phone, realizing the time. he sets down his tea and stands. “i should probably get out of here, there’s another tenant waiting for me.”

“i didn’t mean to keep you—”

“no no,” san interrupts. “it’s okay. i really liked this. not a lot of people are this welcoming.”

“of course,” you reply, standing up with him. “i—i really liked this too.”

san smiles, biting a bit at his lip. you look at each other for a moment, feeling an intriguing tension in the air. he finally shakes head, going to grab his things to go. you walk him to your front door. you say another thank you, about to close the door.

“like i said,” he repeats, leaning against the door frame. “anything.”

you hadn’t seen san in over a week. it was driving you mad. you became addicted to his energy, to his warm greeting at your front door, to the lingering gazes you shared. you didn’t have any reason to see him again, and you needed to find another. so you did something you’re not entirely proud of… something that an actual crazy person would do. you loosened a bolt on a pipe under your kitchen sink, allowing water to trickle the smallest amount in the lower cabinet.

listen. you know it’s bizarre at this point, but you had to see him again. it’s not like anything would happen; he’d probably just fix it up, have another nice chat with you, and be on his way. is it so bad that you meddled with your sink just to see him?

when san arrives, he has that all-knowing grin on his face the moment you open the door.

“the sink now, hm?” he asks.

“yeah,” you chuckle anxiously. “the sink.”

he goes to the kitchen and inspects the pipes under the sink. you lean against the counter, hoping to god he doesn’t notice that the pipe didn’t magically get loose.

“ah i see,” he laughs to himself. “it’s just a loose bolt. easy fix.” he tightens it with his tools, quickly finishing.

“oh, haha,” you say, nerves bubbling in your stomach. “i guess i could’ve done that.”

“you know, it’s so interesting…” he trails off, standing up to face you, running a hand through his hair.

“what?” you ask.

“i’ve never had to do so much maintenance work for one tenant before,” he says, sly grin across his face. fuck. do you think he knows?

“and i swear, that bolt kinda looked like it was loosened by a wrench…” he trails off again, stepping closer to you. HE KNOWS.

“n-no, i would never,” you defend, feeling backed against the counter.

your eyes are locked on san, wandering over his built frame, over his sharp features. he’s inching closer and closer, and you feel your breath hitch. he catches your trailing eyes as if to ask for permission, and leans in to kiss you.

finally, the thing you’ve been wanting so bad from him, to feel his lips against yours. he cups your cheek with one hand, letting you melt into his touch. your lips part to allow his tongue to slide in, deepening the kiss with fervor. his form pushes against yours, pressing you against the kitchen counter. his hands begin to wander, grazing from the side of your face down to your waist. he holds you in a tight grip, pulling your hips forward to meet his. you can feel him harden in his jeans as he lets out a groan against your lips.

“you did this on purpose, hm?” san says, separating from your lips. he lifts you up and places you to sit on the kitchen counter in one swift motion. he kneels to the floor, grabbing at the waist of your pants. “just to see me?”

you nod emphatically, watching as he pulls down your pants and underwear. the cold air hits your core and you try to close your legs, but san pushes them back open to admire you. putting your legs over his shoulders, he runs his fingers against your folds, eyes drinking in the sight of you. you shudder at the feeling, knowing all too well that he’s already got you soaked.

“you like seeing me like this?” he whispers, looking up at you. “i bet you imagined me like this, between your legs.” when his fingertips graze over your clit, your body lets out a shake, and he knows he found what he wanted.

he attaches his mouth to your core and places a firm hold on your outer thighs. licking stripes up to your clit, each stroke of his tongue feels like heaven. he dips down to your hole, dragging your slick upwards. he moans at the taste of you, devouring at you with more passion. your hands grasp at his hair, relishing the stimulation.

he tugs his head back, looking as pussy-drunk as ever. “i imagined you like this too,” he moans, lips still hovering over you. you unintentionally tug at his hair, yearning for his mouth back on you. “i wanted you so bad the moment i saw you.”

he releases a hand off your thigh and snakes it back between your legs, teasing at your hole as he goes back to circle his tongue around your clit. he looks up at you as he slides his middle finger in, watching you crumble at the feeling. once he can tell you’re comfortable, he slides in another, slowly starting to pump them into you. you whimper at the feeling, walls contracting around his fingers.

your moans are uncontrollable, and he matches them, letting the vibrations enhance the stimulation. he curls his fingers into you, hitting that perfect spot. he can feel your core clenching more erratically, causing him to pick up the pace, but maintaining a steady rhythm. his tongue flicks at your clit just right, making you squeeze your eyes shut and tighten the grip on his hair.

“s-san,” you let out. “i’m gonna cum.”

he detaches from you briefly, still finger fucking you. “cum for me, baby, i want to taste you.” he immediately latches back onto you, eating you like his life depends on it.

you feel a wave of pleasure wash over your body, feeling like chills. you’re shaking now, unable to control the sheer amount of bliss your body is experiencing. you moan out to san, coming undone on his tongue. he continues to work at you, allowing you to ride out the entirety of your orgasm.

he finally disconnects from you, pulling out his fingers coated in your essence. he licks them clean, looking up at you with the same look of desire. he stands up, promptly placing his lips on yours in a passionate kiss. you can taste yourself on his fucked-out lips, and it makes it that much hotter. you can hear him fumbling with his belt, and your hands reach down to help. you place your palm over his bulge, it twitching at the contact.

san separates from you, letting out a heavy sigh. he pulls himself out from his underwear, rubbing the tip at your spent pussy. he looks down and lets a string of his spit hit his throbbing cock, spreading it around the expanse of it with his hand. he angles himself into you, and slowly starts pushing in. you gasp at the size, him stretching you out much more than his fingers initially did. he takes it slow, acknowledging the whimpers leaving your lips.

once he’s fully inside, he groans. “god, you’re so fucking tight.”

he watches himself enter you as he starts rolling his hips into you. he places a hand on the back of your neck, pushing you towards him for a messy kiss. he starts to pick up his pace, earning a sharp hiss on his lips in between kisses.

“you feel so good,” he murmurs to you. “i knew you would feel good.”

you moan in response, completely unable to form any words. all you know is that the stretch of his cock is deliciously painful, and the sweet kisses he’s peppering over your neck gives you goosebumps all over. you can’t even believe this is happening right now, that your fantasy of fucking your maintenance man is coming true, and it feels even better than you imagined.

“you wanted this so bad,” san teases, continuing to piston into you. “for me to fuck you like this. you probably imagined it, touching yourself the moment i left.”

and he’s right, you found yourself needy and horny after every visit he made. you couldn’t stop yourself from grabbing your vibrator and pretending he was the one fucking you, not yourself. but the feeling of the real thing was much different, much more euphoric. to have his chest heaving in front of you, sweat beading on his temple, desperate energy emanating from his body, saying i want to have all of you.

suddenly, he lifts you from the kitchen counter, holding your thighs firmly with his cock still in you. something about the fact that he can completely hold you up, still bouncing you on him even… you feel like his little play toy that he’s throwing around. he takes you to the bedroom, dropping you down on your bed and landing on top of you.

he wastes no time in sliding back into you, desperate to continue feeling your tight walls around him. his body is hovering over yours, your legs tangled as he thrusts into you. he pecks around your neck, hand ghosting over your throat as if seeking permission. you place your hand over his, allowing him to choke you until you’re lost in a euphoric haze.

his thrusts become more intense and forceful, each stroke sending chills down your spine as his length reaches deeper inside you. you swear you’re shaking the whole bed, the headboard repeatedly slamming against the wall. you’re so clouded by pleasure that you barely even notice he’s fucking you so hard that he’s pushing a dent into the wall from your bed frame.

“i can fix that,” san whispers with a smile, not even bothering to stop.

you let out a chuckle, then press a soft kiss to his lips. his hips begin to slow, as though he’s really taking his time to melt into you, to feel every part of you. he then lifts up to hit a new angle inside you, gripping your waist and slamming your hips into his with powerful, deliberate motions. you move your hand to your clit, feeling your walls tighten around his throbbing cock. your vision blurs, tears starting to well up in your eyes from the overwhelming pleasure.

“you gonna cum for me?” san asks, sensing the irregular pulsing of your core. you nod up at him, eyebrows furrowed and lip caught between your teeth. “cum on my cock, baby, let me feel you.”

your orgasm builds to a peak and then cascades over you, sending you into a state of pure bliss. san is still fucking into you, extending your orgasm while still chasing his own. it’s not until his hips begin to falter that you feel him shoot ropes of his cum into you, filling you completely. his moans echo yours, his hips gradually slowing until he finally comes to a stop.

he pulls out of you, falling next to you on the bed. the room is filled with the sound of your heavy breathing as it gradually returns to a normal pace. you look at each other, smiling with a shared understanding of the unexpected moment you just experienced. he wraps his arm around you, drawing your head to his chest to where you can hear his heartbeat.

“sooo…” you chuckle softly, pointing at the dent in your wall. “you’re gonna fix that, right?”

san grins, pulling you closer. “i mean, i can, but then i’d have no reason to come back tomorrow.”

“now that i think of it,” you say, chuckling. “i think there’s probably a few more things that could be fixed…”

“anything you need,” he says. “anything.”

a/n: guys this was so fun to write, i hope u enjoyed it too!! something about san lately oml... plz leave feeback as i'm new to writing, and reblog to support me! it motivates me to write more!

✰taglist✰ @skz1-4-3 @oddracha @luvbit3z @tunafishyfishylike @seomisaho

add me to the taglist!

[seokmn]

︵⠀THE GLOSS ⠀◌Ⳋ ✧ ── it turns out dongmin really is the perfect boyfriend to test makeup on at the store.

pairing: dongmin x gn!reader wc: 1.2k words warnings: reader wears makeup lua's note: saw this tweet and had to do something about it..

ᯓ★ "so baby, put your lips on me"

To you, Dongmin was the best boyfriend ever for countless reasons, one of them being his enthusiasm and interest for anything that you seemed to like.

 With that being said, your dates at the mall were like heaven to you: you could stop at any store you wanted to and spend how much time you wanted without him rushing you.

 After taking a little break to eat and sit down a little bit, you took your lipstick from your purse to reapply it and let out a sigh when you opened its cap.

 “I'm running out of my favorite lipstick...” You pouted.

 “That’s okay,” Dongmin took his phone, opened the camera app and held the phone in your direction so you could use it as a mirror. “We’re already here, so let’s go to a makeup store and buy you a new one.”

 You glanced at him before concentrating on reapplying your lipstick and held back the urge to smile at his words.

 “Thank you,” you leaned back and pressed your lips together a few times before putting the makeup product back on your purse. “Now you got me all excited, can we go to the store now?”

 With a chuckle, Dongmin put his phone back in his pocket, stood up from his seat and reached out for your hand.

 “Let’s get going.”

 Once you reached the makeup store, you went straight to the lipstick’s brand aisle (after taking a look at products you weren’t even interested in buying on the way) and looked for the shade.

 “No way,” you gasped and Dongmin’s eyes flickered between the countless lipsticks on sale and your face, his brows raised in surprise at the gasp and curiosity. “This is the last one from my shade! I’m so lucky!”

 The boy’s curious face turned into a bright one as he laughed.

 “It’s like it was waiting for you!”

 “Who said it wasn’t?” You winked and then looked around. “You know.. I also need a new gloss…”

 “Oh yeah? Any gloss in mind?”

 You pressed your lips together and slowly shook your head. Dongmin let out a soft sigh in response and ran his fingers through his hair.

 “So I guess it’s going to take a little while, isn’t it?”

 “No, never.”

 Dongmin looked at you with a skeptical look on his face and you smiled shyly.

 “Okay, maybe just a liiiiiiittle bit”

 “Alright, as long as we still have time to go take a look at new shoes, you can take how much time you need.”

 Your smile lightened up as you started to walk away from that spot, taking a look at every product on the shelf and trying to find the gloss.

 Dongmin followed you right behind, watching you and also paying attention to the glosses, pointing at some and saying how they would look pretty on you, or how they would match with one of the lip combos you like to do. There was only one of them that made you agree with his statement and ask him to take it for you, while the others just made you give him a knowing look, which he would always reply to with the same i take it back look while putting his hands up in surrender.

 “Alright, we have 3 options, so you know what time it is, right?”

 “Test time!” Dongmin smiled.

 He was already used to watching you test the products on your hand or wrist, so he just stood still and watched you take a cotton pad and a disposable brush and apply some of the gloss on it. However, his eyes widened open when you started to apply it on his lips.

 “What- what are you doing?” He said without moving his lips too much, not wanting to make you mess up and scolding him for speaking while you were applying makeup on him.

 “Test time,” you focused on your task, your tongue sticking out in concentration. “Alright, look at the mirror and tell me what you think.”

 Dongmin looked at himself in the mirror and hummed.

 “I guess it’s fine, I don’t know too much about makeup, love. All I can say is that it’s pretty.”

 “Does it taste good?”

 He licked his shiny lips and frowned as soon as the taste touched his tongue. His hands immediately found their way to the cotton pad on your hands and wiped the product off his lips.

 “Tastes like shit.”

 “Really? I thought it’d taste good… Then let’s try this one.”

 He watched you take another disposable brush and apply another gloss on it.

 “Why am I being the model this time?” He asked while you applied the gloss on his lips once again. “I mean, I don’t mind at all, but I’m curious because I was never the model before.”

 “Because we’re talking about something that you’ll be also using if we think about it. What’s the point of using a pretty gloss if my boyfriend won’t like to kiss me while I’m wearing it?”

 Dongmin smiled at your thoughtful action and pouted in a teasing way.

 “Then go ahead, your model is more than ready.”

 “Silly,” you laughed and smacked his arm in a playful way. “Tell me about this one.”

 He looked at himself in the mirror, his expression dead serious while he pressed his lips against each other and licked them.

 “It’s a pretty color, the glitter on it is not too much, but also not too little, and it tastes good,” he pressed his lips once again. “But it feels tacky.”

 “Damn, you’re not just a model anymore,” you took a cotton pad and gave it to him. “You’re an analyst.”

 “You gave me a very serious task,” he wiped the gloss off. “So I have to do it properly, right? Let’s go, time for the last one.”

 “All righty,” you repeated the same process and started to apply the last option on him. “You have such pretty lips, love.”

 “Don’t make me blush here…”

 “I mean it, I always get myself staring at them wishing you’d apply super glue on them and kiss me, so we would always have your lips pressed together.”

 “Weirdo,” he laughed and tried to brush off the fact that he blushed by looking in the mirror before you tell him to. He did the same thing as before, checked his lips in the mirror very carefully, pressed his lips against each other and groaned when he licked them. “This is the one. It doesn’t have too much glitter, the color is pretty and subtle and the taste…” He licked his lips again. “The taste is amazing, something out of this world.”

 “Really?”

 “Yes! Here, taste it,” he pecked your lips and smiled when you leaned back with surprise all over your face. “C’mon, taste it.”

 You hesitantly licked your lips, still trying to process your boyfriend’s sudden action, but that was soon replaced in your mind with how good the gloss tasted.

 “Oh my god it’s so good.”

 “I told you!”

 “They shouldn’t make such a tasty gloss, I might eat it instead of actually using it,” you looked at yourself in the mirror to check how the gloss looked on you. “And it looks good on me! You’re right, Dongminnie, this is the one.”

 Your boyfriend took two of the picked gloss and also the lipstick you were holding.

 “Let’s pay for these.”

 “Wait.. Why two of them?”

 “Because I have the feeling you’ll be running out of it sooner than you expected.”

[sunshinesfreckless]

We Never Broke up….right….?

───୨ৎ────────୨ৎ───────୨ৎ───

Pairing: Idol!Felix x Fem!Reader

Summary: Felix just can‘t seem to let go of his Ex. Idek if it makes sense i just wildly typed something out in my notes app.

Warnings: Smut Smut Smut. Minors DNI 😛

A/N: Felix was so hot at the Louis Vuitton show yesterday…. expect a fic about it.

───୨ৎ────────୨ৎ───────୨ৎ───

Y/N hated him.

Not the way people toss the word around casually—ugh I hate that guy—but the kind of hate that sits inside your chest like wet cement, heavy and permanent, poured in the shape of his name.

She hated how he broke her heart like it was a disposable thing. She hated how cool and detached he’d looked doing it, like he hadn’t spent months memorizing her coffee order and the birthmark on her thigh. She hated his new Instagram photos: hair wet, jaw clenched, staring into the lens like it owed him something. She hated seeing other girls repost them. She hated the ads—the LED screens flashing his face, the soft-focus images of his smile on bus stops and subway walls. She hated that just the sight of him could gut her like a fish.

And worst of all, she hated that even now—months later—she still knocked on his door. Or he knocked on hers. Depending on who broke first.

Tonight, it was him.

She heard the knock before she saw him. No words, no messages. Just a knock like a reflex.

She didn’t ask who it was. Didn’t need to.

When she opened the door, he was already looking down—hood low, hands shoved into the pockets of his hoodie, glasses doing nothing to hide the sharp lines of a face that still lived in her memories like a ghost refusing to leave. She didn’t speak. Neither did he.

She just stepped aside.

It always started the same.

His mouth on hers like an apology he didn’t know how to say. Her nails on his skin like a punishment he knew he deserved. Their bodies colliding with the violence of everything they refused to speak aloud.

“Still mad at me?” he asked against her neck, breath warm.

She pulled his shirt up over his head, eyes dark. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

But her hands trembled.

He smirked, the cocky, infuriating grin she used to kiss just to shut him up. “You always say that. Right before you let me fuck you into the mattress.”

She did.

And she let him again.

Because Felix always knew how to break her open in bed. He touched her like he owned her. Fucked her like no one else mattered. Whispered things in her ear that made her knees buckle, his voice deep and rough and aching with something they refused to name.

He always knew just how deep to go. How long to stay inside her before she broke.

She’d come undone beneath him, clinging to his back, his name bitten into her pillow. And when it was over, when her chest heaved and his lips hovered just above her skin, they both stayed frozen.

Like maybe if they didn’t speak, they could pretend it was something else.

That they weren’t exes. That they hadn’t ruined each other.

“You should go,” she whispered into the silence.

He didn’t move.

Instead, he brushed his thumb across the curve of her hip like he was tracing a memory. His eyes softened for just a second. “You still wear the necklace I gave you.”

She slapped his hand away.

“Don’t do that,” she said. “Don’t pretend this is sweet.”

“It was sweet,” he murmured, quieter now. “Sometimes.”

“Yeah, well. Sometimes wasn’t enough.”

She turned away, curling into herself, sheets tangled at her waist.

He sat up, watching her like she might disappear. Like he wanted to say something, but didn’t trust himself not to say too much…..

────୨ৎ────

She didn’t know how they ended up like this again. He was supposed to perform at a show tonight.

But Felix had her pulled back into him, her spine curved flush against his chest. One of his hands was between her legs, slick and cruelly slow, while the other was wrapped around her throat.

Not tight. Just enough to make her breath catch, just enough to make her thighs tremble.

He knew exactly what he was doing.

“Still like it when I do this, baby?” he murmured against her ear, voice low and hoarse from how long they’d been at it. “Knew you’d come crawling back for it.”

She didn’t answer—couldn’t, not with his forearm curved so perfectly under her jaw, lean bicep pressed right against the side of her neck. He kept his grip precise, just how she liked it. He’d always had strong arms, dancer-lean and deceptively firm. And when he used them like this—slow pressure, whispering filth into her hair—she completely came undone.

Her fingers clawed at the sheets. “Fuck, Felix—”

He chuckled darkly, kissing the hinge of her jaw, licking a stripe up to her ear. “This pussy misses me,” he groaned, rocking his hips into her from behind. “So fucking tight around me. You think anyone else can fuck you like this?”

He punctuated it with a hard thrust, choking her a little more as her eyes fluttered shut.

“You think they know what you look like when you’re like this?” he rasped. “Falling apart, drooling all over the pillow, letting me use you like this?”

His breath stuttered. He held her tighter—not just around the neck, but her waist too, as if he couldn’t stand the idea of her slipping away.

“I swear to God,” he whispered, a tremor in his voice now, “no one else gets to see you like this. No one.”

She moaned helplessly, back arching against him as his rhythm quickened, hips slamming into her from behind in perfect, brutal strokes. His fingers moved to her clit, relentless, his bicep flexing just a little more—and that’s all it took.

She came with a ragged sob, her whole body shaking in his hold. Felix groaned behind her, burying his face in her neck as he followed, clutching her tight, fucking her through it like he’d die if he stopped.

Afterward, he didn’t let go.

He just stayed there, arm still around her throat but soft now, his other hand sliding down to rest over her stomach, the smallest breath of a kiss against her shoulder.

And it hit her then—how quiet it was. How easy it would be to say something. Anything. She frowned when he pulled out.

────୨ৎ────

Chan always said their breakup was messy. Both of them too prideful. Both of them too hurt to reach back when the other pulled away. It was the kind of love that burned everything it touched. And yet—they kept coming back.

They kept knocking on each other’s doors like addicts desperate for another hit.

────୨ৎ────

Felix stood finally, pulling his hoodie back on.

“I’ll go,” he said. But he didn’t move. “Just tell me one thing.”

She didn’t answer.

“Do you still love me?”

Her breath caught. She looked at him—really looked at him—for the first time in weeks.

He was still beautiful. Still hers, in a way no one else could ever be. But she said nothing.

And maybe that silence was the answer.

Or maybe it wasn’t.

Because the next time there was a knock, she opened the door again.

And the time after that.

And the time after that.

Because some people never really break up. Not in the ways that matter. They just take turns pretending the other one doesn’t still live inside their bones.

[ningternzzz]

drabble— giving beomgyu a handjob through his boxers :3

warning(?)s: afab reader, y/n is a little bit evil hehe, tongue stuff, competitive gamer!beomgyu, “good boy”, imstillnewatwritingplsbenice

word count: 874

note!!!: it’s me and notes app against the world atp thank u everynyan for sm luv on my puppy!gyu fic :3 i genuinely didn’t expect anyone to like it djfhdhdhfh

Beomgyu who had agreed to a lazy and calm night in with you.

Beomgyu whose mind totally wasn’t in the gutter when you’re both just playing mario kart in comfy clothes.

Beomgyu who’s hard-on was getting harder and harder to cover up with each round. Every time you pushed his shoulder and hit his leg as an attempt to throw him off made him swoon, and he had nearly forgotten that there was just his boxers on. You had noticed too, his general stiffness and length made it impossible not to. His eyes were only on the screen half the time (despite him getting first every single time miraculously), with the other half his eyes were attached to your chest. it was like some invisible force made him keep looking, fascinated by how gravity works with each lean and movement you did.

You let him and his hard on suffer until you genuinely were fed up of him getting first every single time. No matter the difficulty of the track or the karts and bikes you chose, he would ultimately emerge victorious (by a landslide too, which was even more bothersome).

It was the last track on the cup, and rainbow road was the randomized track chosen. He had already started getting cocky about how “you’re doomed” and how he could do this with his eyes closed.

He didn’t know about your fool-proof plan to break his winning streak.

The race began, and you’d thought you’d let him have his glory, at least for a little bit. He was throwing remarks left and right as he unsurprisingly flew through the track with ease.

If it wasn’t for his boner very obviously showing and the shameless wet spot growing with each passing track, you’d never had guessed he was in any way shape or form horny in the least bit. Snickering to himself, you waited until his eyes had to be on the screen to swiftly position yourself on your knees below him. Immediately flustered, his snarky remarks turn into stammers, and the best part was that you hadn’t even done anything.

You snaked your hands up both his thighs and circle the wet spot on his boxers against his head with one of your thumbs.

For some inexplicable reason, he tried his very hardest to act nonchalant, the controller in his hands becoming warm with the clamminess of his hands. He can’t make out anything past a few What…..’s and Haaaaahh……..’s before quickly discarding the controller and instinctively running his fingers through your hair and squeezing when you use your tongue on his soaked through boxers in place of your thumb.

He curses in between his teeth as you use your hands to wrap the fabric of his boxers around the shape of his length to form a viable sleeve of sorts to stroke him through, as you get to work licking the sticky tip through the fabric. He can’t stop himself begging and pleading to just take them off, but you can’t let him win that easily again. You tell him that maybe if he’s a good boy, just maybe, he’ll even get to fuck you, and you swore he was going to cum there and then with the way his eyes rolled back and the lewd noises that escaped his open mouth.

He watches in pain as you swirl your tongue on top of the fabric, wishing so ardently that the fabric wasn’t in the way. Your hands settle at the base as you slowly start moving them up and down, squeezing at just the right part, just as he likes it. It gets harder and harder for him to keep his eyes on you, as he resets to squeezing his eyes shut and throwing his head back. You feel his legs tremble around your sides as you pick up the pace with your hands. He really starts to loose it when you suck his wetness through his boxers. In between your hands and your mouth he can’t stop saying your name in between moans and curses. Whether it was to protest or to encourage, it was unclear, and not really relevant.

You release your hands for a second and he sighs in pain, missing the warmth of you wrapped around his length. You use your thumb to toy with his waistband, earning the most pathetic whimpers from Beomgyu. You tease him to almost pull them down so his throbbing cock found spring free, only to pop them back up and continue playing with him.

Until he’d had enough.

His whole body shakes as he falls forwards and you feel his boxers become absolutely ruined with his own cum. He reaches out and grips your shoulder when you start overstimulating him, mixing his precum and cum along his tip as he shudders and folds practically in half.

You foolishly think for a second that he’s spent, the mario kart ending music playing on repeat in the background. You look over your shoulder briefly. You both are last place. Before you could poke fun at him for not winning this time, he looks at you with a look similar to a small begging, puppy.

“Have I been a good boy?”

[cottonlemonade]

Thinking about how when you first started dating Tendou, he would brag to anyone who would listen and/or wasn’t fast enough to escape, that he landed a foreigner.

He loved all of it. If you ever took a while to find the right word, he patiently waited or encouraged you to mime it - soon having both of you treat these small challenges as impromptu games of charades. A lot of his time was spent staring at the three little dots indicating that you were typing a message, making him expect a novel-length reply only to get a line or two because it simply took you a while to find the correct Japanese spelling, and, no matter what, he melted at every single mispronunciation.

But of course all this love and all his heart eyes couldn’t prevent typical everyday bickering.

“If this was in my native language I’d be kicking your butt right now.”, you muttered, tapping rapidly on your phone’s translation app.

He pursed his lips, waiting. This was a common occurrence now that you had moved in together. Merging of cultures and lifestyles came with different expectations and was bound to lead to some friction.

“The laundry - wait, babe, how do you pronounce this, please?” Your voice turned calm and sweet and you held out your screen to show him the letters. He uncrossed his arms and leaned in to check.

“Which one, my love?”

“The third one.”

“Ah. De-ter-gent.”

“Detegend. Deter-. Ugh, one more time, please?”

“De-“, he began gently in your usual routine of repetition.

“De-“, you echoed.

“Ter-“

“Ter-“

“Gent.”

“Gent.”

“Detergent.”

“Detergent.”

“There you go! Perfect!”

He gave you a kiss on the forehead and took a step back again.

“The laundry detergent has to go into the left… the left part! That’s how the machine works.”

“I’ve washed my own clothes for years and nothing bad ever happened by putting it on the right.”, he insisted.

As he watched you type again on your phone for the right vocabulary, he made a mental note to look into online classes for your native language to make future arguments easier for you.

a/n: the chubby is implied at this point on my blog. Y’all know 😎

For this one I could also picture Hirugami, Kuroo, Aran, Osamu, Yamaguchi or Hinata here but… when in doubt I will always pick Tendou ^^

[toonice113]

The jacket ⋆ ★ L.Hughes

part 2

Pairings: Luke Hughes x Fem!reader

Genre: fluff

Summary: You weren’t expecting anything in return for your support, especially not this early in your relationship, but Luke had other plans.

Warnings:  brief mentions of drinking, 

Word count: 1.2k

⋆˚࿔ tina's note 𝜗𝜚˚⋆ I thought this was shorter lol, I can’t wait to see all the wag jackets this year also, new challenge drink every time you see the word ‘wag’ in the story (no seriously, how tf did i end up using the word so much and for what?). It’s my first time watching the nhl playoffs and im excited (also hope the devils make it far so we get bearded Nico for a while)

You’d met Luke on a dating app. You and your friends had decided to apply to Raya on one drunken girl’s night in, at first it was just a competition, seeing who would get accepted, then it just became a fun place to snoop around all together when only you and another one of your friends had gotten accepted.

When you got Luke’s first message you hadn’t thought much about it, replying to it with your friends’ help and then moving on, but then it became more messages being exchanged even when you were on your own. Your first time meeting had been really sweet, just a coffee date where you got to know each other, and at first you were hesitant because why would this professional athlete want more than just a hookup? But at the end of the date, once your coffees had been finished and the conversation had faded, he walked you to your car, asked for your number and wished you a good night with only a peck on your cheek.

You’d been dating for only a little over two months when the devils clinched playoffs. During those two months you had met his teammates, you’d met his brother accidentally before you had even started officially dating, and their partners a couple times, but nothing formal had happened. You knew about the WAG groupchat and the WAG fee and honestly, way more than you needed or wanted to know about WAG life, from your friends insisting you needed to study the world you were about to enter. 

When you and Luke first started taking things a bit more serious than just random dates here and there he had began inviting you to his games, giving you a seat in the family section for every game that his parents weren’t there for, a mutual agreement as you both felt it was too early for you to meet his parents, but recently that seat had been changed to one in the same section as the rest of the wives and girlfriends who had immediately taken you in as a part of their found family.

Still, with your newfound friendship during games with the WAGs, you were not really involved in anything outside of the game hangouts, you weren’t necessarily bothered by it, you had school to worry about and you knew your relationship was new and the state of it did not depend on whether your boyfriend payed a fee for you or not.

The first two playoffs games for the devils were to be played in Raleigh, so you were planning on inviting your friends over and watching the games with them, but those plans had changed when Nicole Laud messaged you asking if you would like to join the rest of the WAGs and their kids at the Markstrom’s where they were watching the first game. That’s how you had found yourself here, outside of the house balancing two big boxes of custom ordered devils cookies you had gotten from one of your friends who owned a bakery. 

“Hi! Come in, come in” Amanda welcomed you into her house “Let me help you with that” You thanked her as she grabbed the boxes from your hand so you no longer had to balance your purse, the boxes and your phone that you had forgotten to put back into your bag before.

“Oh, I’m so glad you could make it” Nicole approached you 

“Oh my god these are so cute!” Emma Dillon exclaimed once the cookie boxes were opened and put out with the rest of the food and snacks, the designs of the cookies was simple but cute, one of the design was a white frosting with the player numbers, another one was based on their Jersey jerseys, another one was red frosting with the white NJ logo and finally your favorites, the ones of NJ’s head, yes the mascot, no you had no idea how your friend had managed to pull it off in such short notice but she’d done it. “Where did you get these? I might have to order some for the girls’ birthdays” 

“A friend made them actually” You say with a smile “She owns a bakery, I can give you her contact later if you want”

“Oh absolutely” 

Then came the awkward moment when the girls began talking about the WAG jackets, one that you were sure you were not going to receive, again, not that you were expecting one or were bothered by the lack of.  Nicole brought in a box from her car, pulling each jacket out with care and hanging them all in a rack Amanda had set up. You tried to distract yourself from the interaction by getting up and helping one of the kids get a juice refill while their mom enjoyed the moment with the other women.

“This is from Luke” Nicole approached you with a box while the rest of the girls gushed over their jackets on the other side of the room, she winked at you before retreating back.

Confused, you set the box on the table in front of you, pulling at the ribbon holding it closed and then opening it, on top of something wrapped in red paper there’s a note.

Wear this for good luck? 

The messy handwriting and lopsided heart makes you smile, you put the card down and unwrap the present underneath, your mouth falling open at the jacket in front of you, an identical version of the ones the women across from you are now trying on with the name ‘Hughes’ and number 43

“Y/N come here let’s get a few pictures” One of the WAGS calls for you, none of them make a fuss about you getting a jacket, all of them knowing from Nicole filling them in on Luke’s surprise, not wanting to make you uncomfortable by making a big deal of it, instead choosing to include you on their celebrations.

You send Luke a picture Nicole took of you wearing the jacket, clearly showing his name and number wishing him a good luck on the game, getting back a message telling you how beautiful you look and how they are surely winning now that you are wearing the jacket, that you are not really wearing anymore since you all took them off after finishing the pictures so they won’t be ruined before the home games but he doesn’t need to know that.

“Okay how do we feel about me posting this one” Aly asks the group when the game goes on commercial break, her phone is passed around with the girls agreeing and you grimace at it.

“Um I don’t know if I should be in the picture, I mean Luke and I are still pretty new and no one really knows about us so…” You speak apologetically at the fact that you seem to be the only one with a problem with the picture being posted 

“Oh honey, I think everyone knows” Reanne pats your shoulder and you look around the room at all the women smiling at you

“What do you mean?” You ask, confused

“Check your boyfriend’s instagram story” Reanne tells you 

And there, on Luke’s public instagram story, is the picture you had sent him before the game, a red heart emoji accompanying it, loud and proud for everyone to see that Luke Hughes is officially out of the market.