#chapstick challenge changed me

[bass3spacefreak]

Every once in a while I miss the rush that I got searching “boys kissing” on YouTube when I was 12

[danandfuckingjonlmao]

dan and phil are like jesus in that they’re dramatic ass fruity men in their 30s always going like “i am making this SACRIFICE for THE PEOPLE” and everyone is like “no one asked you to do this in fact we’d all rather you just did not do this” and they’re like “IT IS TOO LATE NOW YOU HAVE TO LIVE WITH THE CONSEQUENCES THIS IS WHAT YOU WANTED” and we’re like “no no we didn’t want this actually and you made this decision with your whole ass adult brain you truly could have just not done this and we’d all be better off for it but now we all have to suffer because YOU refuse to say no to shit” and i think that’s ridiculous stupid annoying awful beautiful

[si3rren]

Plot Twist

enhypen masterlist

my wattpad

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

bsf!kim sunoo x fem reader | friends to lovers | smut | banter

warnings: face grabbing, choking (light + sexual), intense kissing (spit, string of saliva, lip biting), pussy rubbing over clothes, lots of filthy talk, dominant!Sunoo, friends to lovers tension, praise, degradation (light), consensual teasing, mouth on mouth spit play

summary: You and Sunoo are best friends. Always bickering, always gossiping. But tonight? The vibe shifts — and you learn your sassy bestie has a filthy, dominant side you never expected.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

It starts like every other weekend night — you curled up on Sunoo’s bed, legs tangled in his soft blankets, a bowl of popcorn resting dangerously close to being spilled as both of you argue over which Netflix movie to rewatch.

Sunoo’s wearing one of those oversized graphic tees that falls past his thighs, his freshly dyed hair pushed back by a fluffy headband. He looks adorable — like always. His bare legs are tucked beneath him, and he gives you that look when you suggest rewatching a cringey rom-com.

“Y/n, please have some self-respect. I am not wasting two hours watching that man-child fail to communicate again.”

You burst into laughter, tossing a kernel at him.

“You literally cried last time.”

He gasps, hand pressed dramatically over his chest.

“That was emotional manipulation! And don’t expose me like that.”

Eventually, you settle on a random thriller — one of those overhyped ones with a “hot villain” people thirst over on TikTok.

As the movie plays, you and Sunoo do what you always do — roast the characters mercilessly.

“Oh my god, look at his haircut,” you snort, pointing at the villain on screen.

“He looks like if Draco Malfoy joined a biker gang.”

Sunoo wheezes, smacking your arm.

“STOP. Not Draco on a motorcycle. Babe, he looks like he shops at Hot Topic and thinks that’s edgy.”

You’re both giggling, bodies relaxed, shoulders bumping. The tension is easy. Natural. The kind that comes from years of friendship.

But tonight… something’s different.

Maybe it’s the dim lighting of his room, just the soft glow of his desk lamp illuminating his features. Maybe it’s the fact that he smells so good — warm, clean, like vanilla and skin and fabric softener.

Or maybe it’s how, when you look at him tonight, he’s not just cute.

He’s… pretty. But not soft.

His eyes glint when he smirks at you. His lips — glossy from the chapstick he always reapplies — look a little too inviting.

And when the villain on screen presses the heroine against the wall in a heated moment, Sunoo scoffs.

“I can’t. He looks like he’d cry the moment he’s inside her.”

You choke on your popcorn, staring at him.

“SUNOO!”

He grins, eyes wicked.

“What? Am I wrong?”

You’re flustered now, cheeks warm, trying to focus on the movie but failing miserably.

You feel the air change when Sunoo leans back on his elbows, his thigh brushing yours. His voice lowers just slightly, playful but… heavier.

“Honestly, Y/n… I don’t get the hype. Why does she look so wrecked over that? The way he kissed her was weak as hell.”

“Sunoo, oh my god — stop!”

You try to laugh it off, but your heart’s pounding.

“I’m just saying. If it were me…”

He lets it hang in the air. A challenge.

Your breath catches. You glance at him — really look.

He’s closer than you realized, his head tilted as he watches your reaction.

“I’d have you so fucked out, you wouldn’t remember your own name, let alone the damn villain’s.”

His words hit you like a slap — sharp, unexpected, leaving you speechless.

Your mouth opens, but nothing comes out. Your skin feels like it’s on fire.

Sunoo’s smirk deepens at your silence.

“What’s wrong? Cat got your tongue? Or are you just picturing it now?”

You stammer, cheeks burning.

“Sunoo— I… what—”

He doesn’t let you escape.

He shifts, hovering over you, bracing one hand beside your head on the mattress. His knee slots between your thighs, pressing up just enough to make you shiver.

“Do you want to know how I’d kiss you?”

His voice is low, rougher than you’ve ever heard it. His eyes dark, locked on your lips.

“Not like that weak ass villain. I’d grab your face… just like this…”

His hand cups your jaw, fingers firm, thumb brushing your lower lip.

You’re trembling, eyes wide.

“I’d spit in your mouth… make you swallow it… make you mine before I even fucked you.”

You gasp — the filth of his words making your core ache.

Hard. Messy. His lips crash against yours, no hesitation. His grip on your face tightens, keeping you right where he wants you.

His tongue pushes past your lips, tasting, claiming, owning you.

When he pulls back, a string of saliva connects you. His eyes are wild — hungry.

“Fuck, you look good like this.”

Your chest rises and falls rapidly, body pinned beneath him, thighs clenching around his knee.

“Sunoo, I—”

“Shh. Let me show you.”

His hand slides to your throat, fingers wrapping lightly around it. The pressure is perfect — not too much, just enough to make you dizzy with want.

His other hand dips between your thighs, palm pressing against your clothed core.

“So wet already, baby? From just a kiss?”

You whimper, rocking against his hand, desperate.

“Such a pretty slut for me. And you thought I was the soft one.”

He grinds his knee up against you, smirking when your hips jerk.

“Fuck yourself on my thigh. Show me how needy you are.”

You do — because you can’t not. The friction is maddening, the rough fabric of his shorts hitting all the right spots.

Sunoo leans in, licking into your mouth, kissing you like he’s starved.

“I want you messy. I want you drooling. Let everyone think you’re sweet — only I’ll know how filthy you really are.”

His words wreck you — your whines muffled by his mouth, your thighs shaking.

His fingers find your pussy over your clothes, rubbing slow, torturous circles.

“Come for me like this. Make a mess. I’ll clean you up with my tongue after.”

You break — shuddering, gasping, your orgasm crashing through you as he works you through it, whispering filth against your lips.

“Good girl. So good for me. Let’s see what other sounds I can drag out of you tonight…”

⸻

But he doesn’t stop.

His knee slides down, replaced by his hand now cupping your heat, feeling how soaked through you are. He hums, pleased, thumb flicking your clit through the damp fabric, watching you squirm.

“Greedy little thing, aren’t you? You’re fucking dripping. And I’ve barely touched you.”

He leans in, teeth grazing your earlobe before sucking it into his mouth. His breath is hot, his tongue wicked as it flicks against your skin.

“Say thank you. Thank me for making you feel this good.”

Your voice breaks, breathless.

“Th-thank you, Sunoo… fuck…”

He groans, rutting against your thigh, his own cock straining against his shorts.

“That’s it. My good girl. My filthy girl.”

His hand slips beneath your shirt, nails dragging lightly down your stomach, raising goosebumps in their wake.

He pinches your nipple through your bra, smirking when you gasp, then pushes the fabric aside, twisting the bud between his fingers, tugging until you cry out.

“Sensitive everywhere, huh? Bet you’d beg if I told you to.”

You’re gasping, hips rocking into his hand, trying to get more friction where you need it most.

“Please, Sunoo— please touch me—”

“Oh, I am, baby. But I want to hear you say it. Say you want me to ruin you.”

“I—I want you to ruin me.”

“That’s my girl.”

His hand slips beneath your waistband, fingers sliding between your folds, spreading your slick everywhere, making a mess of you. He teases your clit with slow, tight circles, then dips lower, fucking you on his fingers shallowly — just the tips, not enough, never enough.

“Fuck, you’re soaking me. I’m gonna make you cum again just like this. Can’t even take my fingers yet — but soon, baby. Soon I’ll have you crying for it.”

You’re shaking beneath him, your thighs twitching as he keeps you right on the edge, pulling back whenever you get too close, then driving you mad with slow pressure.

“Sunoo— please— need it—”

His grin is sinful.

“You need it? Or do you want it? There’s a difference, baby. Tell me.”

“Both— I need it, I want it, please—”

He chuckles darkly, rewarding you with faster circles on your clit, his fingers slick with your arousal.

Your second orgasm hits harder — white-hot, blinding, your body writhing under his control as he coaxes it out of you, never letting up, making sure you ride it out fully.

And when you collapse back against the bed, panting, trembling, Sunoo kisses you — slow this time, deep, tasting your moans.

“Good girl. Now let me taste how sweet you really are.”

And with that, he slides down your body, lips and tongue trailing fire over your skin, ready to ruin you all over again.

His mouth is everywhere, dragging down your body like he’s starved, worshipping you with lips and teeth and tongue. His breath is hot, leaving your skin tingling as he marks you — sharp nips that make you gasp, followed by soft, open-mouthed kisses that soothe the sting, only to bite again.

Your shirt is pushed up, bunched beneath your arms, your bra discarded somewhere — you don’t even remember him unclipping it. His mouth latches onto a nipple, sucking hard, tongue flicking over the sensitive bud until you’re arching into him, your hands tangled in his hair.

“Fuck, look at you — needy little thing,” Sunoo growls, his voice rough, ragged with want. His fingers grip your thighs, spreading you wider, settling between them. He glances up, eyes wild, cheeks flushed, hair messy where you’ve tugged.

“You’re shaking already, baby. Thought you could handle me?”

You whimper, hips lifting off the mattress in silent plea.

“Sunoo, please—”

His grin is wicked, sinful.

“Please what? Use your words, princess. Tell me what you want.”

“I want your mouth. Please. I need it—”

He groans, rutting his hips against the mattress for relief as he drinks in your desperation.

“Fuck, you begging for my mouth? You’re so fucking pretty like this. Bet you’ll taste even sweeter.”

And then he’s there — lips ghosting over your soaked panties, inhaling deeply like he’s getting drunk on you.

“God, I could get off just from this. From how wet you are for me.”

You sob his name, trembling, as he finally presses his mouth to you, the heat of his tongue seeping through the thin fabric, making you buck against him.

He licks a slow, firm stripe up your clothed slit, the pressure maddening.

“Sunoo— please, I can’t—”

“Oh, you can. You will. You’ll cum so many times you’ll forget your own name.”

He hooks his fingers into the waistband of your panties, dragging them down torturously slow, kissing along your thighs as he bares you to his gaze.

When he sees how soaked you are, glistening in the low light, his eyes darken, his breath stutters.

“Fuck. You’re perfect. Look at this pretty pussy. All for me.”

He spits on you, watching his saliva mix with your slick, groaning at the sight.

“Messy little slut. That’s what you are, aren’t you?”

You nod frantically, beyond shame now, too far gone.

And then his mouth is on you — no teasing now, no holding back. His tongue licks into you, hot and relentless, his nose bumping your clit with every movement.

He moans against you like you’re the best thing he’s ever tasted, and the sound vibrates through your core, making your legs shake around his head.

He alternates between sucking your clit into his mouth, hard enough to make you cry out, and fucking you with his tongue, deep, sloppy, ravenous.

One of his hands creeps up, fingers lacing with yours, pinning it beside your head. The other grips your hip, holding you down when you try to writhe away from the overwhelming pleasure.

“Stay still, baby. Let me feast.”

You’re a mess — tears leaking from the corners of your eyes, moans spilling shamelessly from your lips, your body thrumming with heat.

When he pulls back, chin slick with your wetness, he smirks, wiping it with the back of his hand only to smear it across your thigh, marking you further.

“I’m not done. Not even close.”

His hand drags down, thumb circling your clit with slow, agonizing precision while his mouth returns to your chest, biting, sucking, leaving bruises in his wake.

“Want you to cum on my face. Want to feel you fall apart on my tongue.”

And you do — your body seizing as he devours you, relentless, insatiable, swallowing every drop as you break apart again, gasping his name like a prayer.

But he doesn’t stop.

Even as you whimper from overstimulation, he licks you through it, groaning at how you taste, fingers sliding between your ass cheeks, spreading you, his thumb pressing lightly against your rim, just enough to make you gasp.

“Ever think about letting me play here, baby? God, I’d make you feel so good. I’d have you drooling, crying, begging for more.”

You moan, wrecked, your thighs trembling against his shoulders.

His eyes meet yours — dark, feral, drunk on you.

“I’m gonna keep you here all night. Gonna ruin you, over and over, until you can’t even fucking speak. Just whimper and moan for me like the perfect little slut you are.”

And with that, he dives back in — tongue fucking you deep, thumb brushing your rim, other hand toying with your clit, determined to make good on his promise.

Every flick of his tongue, every swirl, every suck — it’s all too much and not enough at once.

And when you cum again, harder than before, he groans like he’s the one finding release, grinding against the mattress, desperate for friction, so turned on from wrecking you he can barely breathe.

He finally pulls back, chest heaving, face slick with your arousal, lips swollen, eyes glazed.

“Look at you. Look what I’ve done to you.”

You can barely speak, barely think — and he’s not done.

“Turn over. I’m not letting you go till I’ve tasted you again. Till you’re crying for it.”

And you know, as you obey, legs weak, heart pounding, that Sunoo’s going to keep his word — he’s going to ruin you, again and again, until dawn.

________

THANK YOU FOR READING THIS

PLEASE LEAVE A COMMENT HEHEH

© si3rren 2025. all rights reserved.

[jaeyunverse]

chapstick challenge

pairing: lee heeseung x fem!reader

genres: fluff, suggestive

wc: 1163

warnings: making out

summary: the chapstick challenge is just an excuse for you to get heeseung to kiss you. thankfully, he’s more than happy to oblige.

note: i don’t have the motivation to write but i didn’t wanna let the blog die either so here’s another repost :)

masterlist

“Heeseung!” you popped cheerfully and poked his cheek with your pencil. “Can I ask you something?”

The boy looked at you suspiciously. “What do you want?”

“Do I always have to want something from you?” you asked, your bottom lip jutting out in a pout.

“You’re being weirdly nice and unnecessarily upbeat at 8:30 in the morning so—” he shrugged— “yes.”

“Okay, yeah, I do want something,” you deadpanned, dropping your charade immediately. Heeseung rolled his eyes and you shoved his shoulder playfully in response. “But you have to promise you won’t say no.”

“No.”

“Boo!” you complained. “You’re such a party pooper!”

Refraining the urge to roll his eyes again, Heeseung reminded you, “The last time you made me promise to not say no, we ended up in the goddamn police station.”

“That’s on you for running too slow.”

“You forgot to pick up the bag with the fucking spray paints, Y/N!” he exclaimed incredulously. “They’re expensive!”

“I didn’t mind ditching the bag if it meant our parents remained uninformed about what happened that night!”

Letting out a long sigh of exasperation, Heeseung said, “Just tell me. The free period will be over soon.”

“Okay,” you declared and dragged your chair closer to his desk. Gesturing for him to come closer, you whispered in his ear, “It’s a TikTok challenge.”

The disappointment on Heeseung’s face could not have been more evident. “I thought you had something interesting to tell me. This was so lame.”

“C’mon!” you urged. “I swear it’ll be fun!”

“You know I’m not into TikTok.”

“Are you opposed to the idea of kissing me too?”

“Oh.” His demeanour changed immediately and he leaned towards you with a curious expression on his face. “Tell me more.”

“You’re such a dork,” you teased.

“I’m down for anything that involves kissing you,” he admitted shamelessly and shrugged. “Maybe this will finally persuade you to be my girlfriend. What’s the challenge?”

You snorted. You and Heeseung were definitely more than friends, but you weren’t exactly dating either. He wanted the two of you to be together, but you weren’t inclined to get involved with him—he was moving to another country for college in a few months.

It was already hard for you to come to terms with the fact as a friend. You weren’t sure you’d be able to cope if you began dating him.

Heeseung tried to convince you that you could make a long-distance relationship work, but you knew better than that. It wasn’t realistic—the timezones weren’t compatible at all and you were both way too career oriented to be able to commit to someone who lived on the other side of the world.

So, you just flirted with each other without ever putting a label on whatever you were. A few platonic makeout sessions here and there, a few not-a-real-date dates to make memories, but never girlfriend and boyfriend.

“I apply a bunch of different chapstick flavours and you try to guess them.”

Heeseung grinned mischievously. “Oh, I love what you have in mind.”

“Meet me at our usual spot during lunch break?” you asked, your lips mirroring his contagious smile.

“Can’t wait.”

“Will we be recording the challenge?”

You raised an eyebrow and looked at Heeseung over your shoulder. Tightening your grip on his hand as you tugged him along faster, you said, “I wasn’t planning to. Do you want to?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “I’ll just get self-conscious.”

You laughed. “Are you saying you’re camera shy?”

“I’m saying I would rather focus on the challenge!” he exclaimed, the tips of his ears turning red with embarrassment.

“Relax.” You chucked and let go of his hand. “I’m just messing with you. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

Fetching an eye mask from the pocket of your hoodie, you handed it to Heeseung and told him to put it on. He did, and you uncapped the first chapstick.

After putting it on, you grabbed his tie and pulled him closer. His arm immediately wrapped around your waist, his hand finding its way to your jaw and cupping it gently.

Then, his mouth was on yours. You were a little surprised by how easily he was handling you even though he couldn’t see anything. It made you realise just how well he knew you—how much you’d gotten used to being with each other.

Heeseung tilted his head to the side for better access and ran his tongue over your bottom lip, sucking on it to get a better taste of the flavour you had applied.

“Strawberry,” he guessed without bothering to break the kiss.

You hummed. “You’re good at this.”

He smiled against your mouth and kissed the corner of your lip before pulling away. Removing the eye mask, he asked, “At guessing flavours or at making out?”

“Guessing flavours,” you said with a smirk and slung your arms around his neck. “I’m gonna need to conduct more experiments to reach a conclusion on that regard.”

“Oh, yeah?” he teased, running his thumb up and down the curve of your waist. “Go ahead and apply a second flavour then.”

You did, and this time, Heeseung wasn’t sweet nor gentle. He pretty much had you pinned against the wall, your fingers weaving through his hair and tugging at the strands.

The kiss was deeper and messier, as if the boy couldn’t get enough of you. Could never get enough of you.

His tongue forced its way into your mouth and you knew he wasn’t holding back anymore. He nibbled on your bottom lip, sucking and licking till you lost sense of everything else but him.

Out of breath, you broke the kiss, but Heeseung, it seemed, was nowhere near done. He placed his lips on your neck, allowing you to get some much needed oxygen into your system.

“That’s not where the chapstick is,” you whispered. You wanted his mouth back on yours. Now.

“Chocolate,” he muttered, sucking hard on the underside of your jaw. You hissed in both pleasure and pain. “It’s chocolate.”

Panting, he detached his lips from your skin and leaned against the wall next to you. You glanced at him and noticed that his tie had come loose.

Not only that, but part of his shirt had also somehow untucked itself and his hair was sticking in all directions. What you loved the most about his dishevelled appearance, though, were his swollen lips.

“Bingo,” you confirmed, resisting the urge to pull him against you again. “It was chocolate.”

Heeseung smirked. “Do I get a reward for passing the challenge?”

You didn’t answer immediately, instead fixing your uniform and hair. He watched you intently with dark eyes.

On your way out of the alley between the two secluded buildings at the back of your school, you said, “Why don’t you meet me back here after class and find out?”

The mischievous glint in Heeseung’s eyes was all the answer you needed.

[nabi-unveiled]

Catching Up: Let Free the Curse of Taekwondo (Ep 3)

Ep 1 React Ep 2 React

So fun facts....I haven't found a place to buy garlic ice cream locally, but there are A LOT of recipes for garlic ice cream on the internet. I do own an ice cream machine. We make homemade ice cream a lot in the summer. I sense an experiment coming up soon.

Anyways, onto episode 3. I am not doing a live reaction for this one. I had to wait over two hours for an oil change and decided to go ahead and watch episode 3. Controlling my facial expressions has never been harder. Although maybe I didn't need to try. Half of the people I know think that I'm a robot anyways. LOL. Anyways, I FELT like I was making a lot of facial expressions because...well just look at them!

There are no more qualms about sharing saliva. I love it btw that Dohoe keeps showing up with his chapstick. These kinds of small details are what make characters seem like real people. I'm known as the person who always have sunglasses (safety glasses really) on my head. No, I don't need them for work. It's just a habit. I'm also LOVING the color-coding. I haven't dove into the posts about this show, but I guarantee there was talk about them being color-coded.

THIS is what I want from a date sequence in a show people. THIS RIGHT HERE. GIVE ME MORE. I said in one of the BL Challenge posts that I frequently fast forward through the dating montages. Because typically they DON'T add any narrative or even show your characters really deepening their feelings. I want dates that FEEL like dates. This was it, and there was ice cream too! I should've just stopped the episode right here.

But alas, I didn't. And somehow, I'll still have to get work done today.

We got confirmation that Sunshine got expelled for fighting.

We got confirmation that Dohoe REALLY hates violence.

On the surface, this line SEEMS sweet. It IS sweet. But it's a bittersweet. Because what Dohoe is admitting is that he loves Sunshine enough to compromise his morals. And just like he didn't want to care to begin with, he will be conflicted about it. It WILL be a problem for him down the line. Because even if you're willing to overlook something, it doesn't necessarily make you feel good about doing it.

And we know that promise will be broken. I knew he would get in trouble for violence before this episode ever started. The foreshadowing has been strong.

Just like the foreshadowing on this line is strong. As soon as they said it, I was like crap. We're not going to be together. Either one or both of them is going to get their plan screwed up royally. My biggest fear was that Dohoe would be the one left behind. Because Sunshine? As much as he SAYS he doesn't have options, he really does. His family may have "abandoned" him, but they are still financially supporting him and calling him every day. Dohoe? Nada.

The watermelon is great here. I LOVE how much food is depicted in this show. This was a cute scene and reminded me that I need to finish my deep dive into soccer/football positions/rules before the next episode of FC Soldout. It also immediately made me think about the World Cup scene in Wild Chives and Soybean Soup.

It's a het drama that I don't recommend. Them as teenagers was great, but the rest was not. I guarantee it has aged poorly. However, I enjoyed that flash from the past. I looked it up. Apparently that drama was 10 years ago. Eesh. The feelings in both of these scenes were similar in that they are very young love and people just not sure how to handle it.

I love that they're training together and having secret meetings in the van. Everything about this feels SO much like what two teenagers in love would do. I squeed internally way too many times.

I'm beginning to sound like a broken record, but the amount of food in this series makes me SO happy. Real people eat. Real people making connections eat together. It's probably personal, but eating a meal with someone is a BIG deal to me. Many of my best memories with both friends and my children are over shared meals. Oddly enough - that doesn't include my husband. We don't enjoy the same foods and he eats super quickly. Fine, I'll revise. MOST people build connections by eating together, and these two DEFINITELY do.

Whoever chose RED for the phone understood the color assignment.

This guy has a problem. I'm assuming we'll learn more later about why this friendship went so badly south. Still...choices HAVE been made. Do-hoe is being a lot more civil than I feel he should; however, that seems in character for him.

It was at this point that I knew we were headed for trouble soon. Anytime the word "always" gets used, that's a red flag for me. Plus, look at HOW happy Do-hoe is at this moment. It shocked Sunshine, and you KNOW he was wanting to pursue that kiss further.

I'll be honest. I haven't figured out why we're seeing Sunshine in a school uniform just yet. The bike was when Do-hoe said he could succeed here. The other was in the scene where Sunshine was being beat, and it LOOKED like he was actually holding the Dad back. Was Daddy Dearest going to try to stop Do-hoe from taking the exam? Or am I reading too much into it. Either way, you can tell that Sunshine snapped.

Which led to our frenemies in the snow. Snow has definitely been a running parallel throughout the show. Typically, it's been hope, connection and even innocence. But it feels like the hope has been tainted through this scene. It also feels like this means we're getting a new beginning for these two frenemies. I can't be sure of that though.

My only question here was "WHO THE FUCK TOLD HIM?!?" Let the boy FINISH the exam before telling him anything. Whoever told him - you are on my hitlist.

We got new information that Sunshine was adopted. That's interesting. It could explain some things about why he so desperately wants his parents to be proud, but I don't have enough evidence. It's not uncommon for kids to want to please their parents after all.

This camerawork is SO good. Do-hoe has scared himself. He's seeing his reflection while his dad leaves the shot. It's him and his rage left behind. Plus, he doesn't like this reflection. This is NOT going to go well. Because THIS? This will scare him. He'll begin to think he could become his dad, and that's going to get all kinds of entangled with his feelings about Sunshine. It's real world feelings depicted well.

And now we have HISTORIC cold. And yes, it snowed. But everything is messed up.

And while I generally dislike time skips...

This one feels appropriate. This is when a time skip SHOULD be used. Based on where they were in life, the technology in that time period, and the situation that has occurred, this time skip makes sense. It'll be interesting to find out where they are now in life.

We know Sunshine is smiling. But sunshine characters often smile even when in pain (he's already done that frequently). We don't see Do-hoe. That feels purposeful. In some ways we knew sunshine would be okay. (I'm not saying emotionally okay.) It's Do-hoe, who didn't finish his exam, who had no other options, who is stuck. He's the unknown. Hopefully, he found a way out. But he's going to be scarred either way. I'm hoping now that we've had the time-skip that the rest is them overcoming the past and growing together as mature adults. We'll see.

AHHH. Why do we have to adult? Can't I just take a day off and binge-watch? This is infinitely more interesting than what I need to write this afternoon. Oh well. Bills must be paid.

[inwhosereverie]

unrequited | gn!reader x simon ‘ghost’ riley

simon wondered if everything fell on a deaf’s ear or you just keep turning a blindeye. listening as you’d yap about someone like a dog would bark at thin air, accompanying you while you make yourself look dumb and as he played stupid himself waiting for the conversation to shift over to who actually sat across you. the twitch of his finger over his bicep as you mention how great they were when he knew he could do better— the bitter taste of liquor against his lips waiting for some sort of change, or was that too selfish to ask for?

you have always been kind, if you could you would compliment anything of anyone but he knew the difference between your liking of someone and being interested in them and let me tell you he never was entertained when you start blabbering about someone you were romantically interested in. not unless it was him, but it never was about him, he wanted to change that. he wanted to tell you how much he wanted you— how much he’d give for you, how you have altered his brain chemistry.

simon wanted to hold you, breathe in your scent and whisper sweet nothings to your ears, shower you with kisses from your forehead down to your lips and taste your strawberry flavored chapsticks. he wanted to get lost in you, but he couldn’t muster up the courage to say it like it was the biggest challenge he’s ever faced.

not when you spoke so fondly of them like he would you, not when you’d look at someone else the way he’d look at you, not even when you would try and seek warmth as if he wouldn’t give it to you; never when you mentioned how much of a good friend he really is, he couldn’t tell you, he was too afraid to be deprived of what little grip he had of you.

he forced himself to be contented with just being a friend, a protector of sort, to just appreciate how you would choose him to hang out with among anyone else, enjoy how you would drag him by his hands.. just to sit here and listen to you talk even if it were about someone else because he at least has a piece of you.

[7ndipity]

Arcade Date

Jimin X Reader

Summary: When you worry that you've screwed up on an important exam, Jimin decides to try and cheer you up with a cute date at the arcade.

Warnings: Swearing, lil suggestive,

A/N: Thanks to @minnie1013 for this request! Sorry it took me a lil while to get to it, I hope you like it!

Masterlist

Requests are open

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

You're expression was noticeably deflated as Jimin picked you up for date night following your last class of the day.

“Hey, how’d the exam go?” He asked sweetly, pressing a kiss to your temple as you climbed into the passenger seat.

“Don’t ask.” You groaned, burying your face in his shoulder.

“Was it bad?” He asked, frowning.

“It felt like my brain went through one of those rug cleaning machines. I bombed, I’m sure of it.” you groaned, leaning back in your seat and closing your eyes.

You don’t know that, I’m sure you did your best.” He said reassuringly. He felt so bad for you, he’d seen how hard you’d been studying lately in preparation for this test. You’d been running yourself ragged, staying up till all hours of the night to cram whenever you could. “When do the results come out?”

“Next week.” You mumbled. “Ugh, I don’t know, can we just talk about something else, please?”

“Sure,” He agreed easily, eager to distract you. “How ‘bout we talk about the fact that you haven’t kissed me in almost six hours and I’m about to die from withdrawals?”

You let out a tired huff of laughter at that. “Alright, you big baby.” You said, finally giving him a smile, albeit a tiny one, before leaning over and connecting your lips to his, instantly feeling your body start to relax at the familiar feel of him against you.

You pulled back suddenly, looking up at him curiously as you licked your lips. “Are you wearing my chapstick?”

“Um, Maybe.” He admitted, avoiding your eyes.

“Would you stop stealing my shit?!” You shoved him lightly, laughing in disbelief.

“It’s not my fault you pick better flavors than me!” He tried to defend with a pout. “And I didn’t steal it, you left it at my place the other day.”

“Whatever.” You rolled your eyes. “Let’s go, I’m hungry.”

The rest of the drive to his place was somewhat quiet, it was clear you were still feeling down, staring silently out the window, lost in thought, while Jimin tried to wrack his brain for a way to cheer you up. Struck by a sudden idea, he made a quick left turn, drawing a curious look from you as he changed routes.

“I thought we were going to your place for dinner?” You asked.

“Change of plans, I’m taking you out.” He said simply.

“Where?”

“It’s a surprise.” He said, giving you a mischievous look before turning his attention back to the road, biting back a grin.

Several minutes later, you pulled up outside a familiar building with various game posters plastered on the windows.

“The arcade?” You looked at him in surprise. “We haven’t been here in ages.”

“I know, but I figured you deserve some fun, so here we are.” He said.

“Chim, I don’t know…” You said.

“C’mon, it’ll be good to take your mind off things. Or are you afraid of me beating you at DDR?” He smirked, raising a brow at you in challenge.

“Oh, you’re so on.” You replied.

The two of you spent the next couple hours squaring off against each other in various games, starting out light-heartedly enough, until you started to get overly competitive and started to attach increasingly ridiculous bets to each game, from having to pay for the all snacks to Jimin having to give you a lap dance for beating him at DDR.

“That one was a joke though, right Y/n?” He asked out of breath, growing nervous at your silence. “Y/n?!”

Before you could leave though, Jimin made it his mission to win you a plushie from the claw machine, spending easily twice the amount of money that the toy was actually worth in his attempt to succeed.

“Jimin, it’s okay, you really don’t have to-”

“Aha!” He yelled victoriously, holding the plush animal up in the air as a trophy before presenting it to you. “For you, my love.”

“Aww, it’s so cute!” You cooed, accepting the toy and petting its head. “Thank you!”

“You’re welcome.” He asked, examining the toy closer. “Is it a bear or a dog?”

“It doesn’t matter, he’s our child and I love him!” You said, making his heart melt as he watched you hug the toy to your chest.

“What?” You asked, catching his expression.

“Nothing, it’s just nice to see you happy like this.” He said with a small smile.

“I’m always happy when I’m with you.” You said softly, feeling shy for some reason at that admission. “Anyway, what should we name our child?”

“Greg.” He replied without hesitation.

“GREG?!”

“What?!”

“Does he honestly look like a Greg to you?” You asked incredulously.

“You try coming up with something better, then!” He said defensively.

You thought for a moment. “B-Bartholomew.” You said slowly.

“Absolutely not.” He rejected. “That sounds like a 17th century tailor.”

“That was my grandfather's name.” You retorted.

“It was not!”

You continued to argue all the way back to the car, before you paused to look up at him, admiring the way he managed to look gorgeous even under the artificial glow of the streetlights.

“Jimin?”

“Yeah?” He replied, turning to look at you.

“Thank you for tonight.” You said, smiling softly. “You were right, I needed this.”

“Of course." He said, gently grabbing hold of your hand. “You know anytime you need a pick-me-up, I'll be there for you."

“I know.” You said, pushing up on your tip-toes to press a quick kiss to his lips.

You don’t know what you did to deserve Jimin in your life, but you would be forever grateful to

have him.

[tojisth3rdwife]

<previous chapter> < next chapter >

ACT 1.2

Choso settled comfortably into the worn leather couch at the back of the rehearsal studio, a sanctuary steeped in the history of his band. The painted brick walls were adorned with vibrant posters from past tours, framed album covers, and magazine features, each piece a testament to the journey that had shaped them. This intimate setting was the perfect backdrop for the wrap-up interviews that would weave throughout their documentary, marking the end of the Bleeding Heart tour and ushering in a new chapter for Gifted Curse.

The air was thick with a mix of anticipation, nostalgia, and a hint of anxiety as the bright studio lights cast a warm glow over him. With only a touch of BB cream and chapstick, his naturally bare face radiated authenticity. His freshly styled hair fell in layered waves, framing his features. Tiny silver hoops dangled from his ears, and modest Cuban link chains graced his neck, complementing the silver rings that adorned his fingers and the piercing in his nostril. The simple white v-neck shirt hugged his upper body just enough to hint at the impressive physique hidden beneath the fabric, a tapestry of ink peeking out from the edges. Expensive denim wrapped around his long legs—a testament to how drastically his life had changed over the past eight years, from stretching a family meal at Jay’s Chicken and Fries to making it last days, to now wearing $400 jeans. It was amusing how quickly life could transform.

But this was the Choso he wanted his fans to see: the man who had penned the songs that helped millions cope with their daily struggles, who poured his blood, sweat, and tears into reaching these heights.

As he waited for the production team to finish setting up, it was clear that many thoughts weighed heavily on his mind. You tilted your head, trying to catch his gaze, and for a moment, he remained lost in thought.

“Hey…” you called softly, breaking the silence. His distant look shifted as he focused on you, a hint of warmth flushing his cheeks.

“You okay?” you mouthed silently, and the corner of Choso’s mouth quirked into a bashful grin. You were distractingly stunning today, as you were every day. Your auburn curls, pressed straight, cascaded down into a sleek ponytail that fanned over your shoulder. The toffee-brown pantsuit you wore hugged your curves just enough to tease his memory of your body.

It was amusing to think that just over 2 years ago, you had been virtually a stranger after being apart for so long, just the woman who took on the challenge of helping his band tell their long-awaited story. Funny how things could change.

“Yeah, I’m good,” he replied with a nod, his gaze flickering past you to the bustling activity and low chatter behind the camera. Knowing him well enough to sense the façade, you glanced around the studio before lowering your voice to speak.

“Look... You don’t know me, and I don’t know you. This is just another interview, one of the hundreds you’ve done and will do in the future,” you said, trying to ignore the way Choso’s eyes traveled from your gaze to your lips and down your neckline. They snapped back to your face when you called his name, a playful yet firm note in your tone.

“Huh? Oh yeah... I know,” he responded, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. You shook your head, exasperated, just as a crew member stepped in front of him, slate in hand.

“Marker… check…” The loud clap of the slate echoed in the studio, marking the start of the interview. Choso straightened his posture slightly, turning his gaze back to you with practiced attentiveness.

Not that he had to pretend to be interested in looking at you—he could do that all day if he could.

“Okay…” you exhaled, gathering your thoughts.

“So tell me, what’s it like being you?” The question seemed straightforward at first, but the stiffened chuckle that escaped Choso revealed its complexity, hinting at the layers beneath the surface.

“Being me…Are you referring to Choso me or Chosen me?” He clicks his tongue, biting his lip thoughtfully as he weighs his response.

“Whoever wants to tell their story first” you shrug, leaning back comfortably in your chair. Choso’s lip catches between his teeth, his gaze getting caught lingering on your lips again.

“Do you want the long answer or the short one?”

“Long is usually preferred,” you reply with a playful smirk, borderline suggestively, encouraging him to dive deeper.

“But..If it helps, we can start from the beginning. Why don’t you tell me when the story of Gifted Curse starts with you?” Choso studies you intently, the amusement in his eyes gradually giving way to a more introspective gaze.

“Okay.” He smiles, a genuine warmth spreading across his face. He settles into his seat, preparing to take you and everyone present on a journey back to where it all began, ready to unravel the threads of his story and the band's ascent..

“Kamo! My office…”

The voice sliced through the heavy fog of sleep, jolting Choso awake with a stiff pat on his shoulder. His head snapped up from the desk, and he winced as an obnoxious ache rippled through his neck, a reminder of his impromptu midday nap. Drool stained his keyboard, a humiliating testament to his exhaustion.

As he blinked away the remnants of his slumber, the buzz of hundreds of telemarketers in their cubicles surged back into focus, a cacophony of voices blending into a monotonous drone. Choso rubbed his eyes, trying to shake off the lingering fatigue that clung to him like a damp blanket. He had sworn he would only rest his eyes for a moment, but the characters on his computer screen began to dance and swirl, blurring together in a dizzying haze. It was a miracle he had even made it in that day, to be honest.

But the sharp wake-up call from his manager, paired with the stern glare he caught as the man strode past his desk, sent a pang of regret through him. It was as if the glare alone had the power to cut through the exhaustion and remind him of the very real consequences of his choices. The thought of calling in sick flashed through his mind—a fleeting fantasy that now felt like a missed opportunity.

With a sigh, Choso pushed himself away from the desk, the chair creaking in protest. He smoothed down his wrinkled shirt and attempted to shake off the remnants of sleep, but the weight of his fatigue seemed to cling stubbornly.

Last night felt like a dream, reminiscent of countless others spent on stage, singing to a sea of adoring faces in a packed venue. The screech of sound equipment and the thrum of Toji and Suguru’s guitars still echoed in his ears. The He could still feel the adrenaline rush from performing, savoring the moment when the audience sang his lyrics back to him. It may have been just over 200 people, but it felt like a thousand.

Facing a 9-to-5 after a night like that felt like a punishment.

The fluorescent lights overhead hummed relentlessly, illuminating the dull gray walls of the office, a stark contrast to the swirling chaos in his mind. He glanced at the clock, the seconds ticking away like a countdown, and felt the familiar grip of anxiety tighten around him.

“Yeah, I’m coming,” he mumbled, trying to sound more awake than he felt as he trudged toward his manager’s office, the carpet beneath his feet a sea of muted colors that mirrored his mood. Each step felt heavier than the last, a reluctant march toward a confrontation he wasn’t sure he was ready for.

“Close the door.”

Choso leaned against the office doorframe, his dark brown hair haphazardly pulled into a low man bun, strands escaping like wisps of smoke. He looked like he had just rolled out of bed, and in a way, he had—having barely survived a late-night show run that had drained him of both energy and coherence. His white button-down shirt, crisp once but now crinkled from hours of stress, bore the faintest hints of coffee stains. The slender necktie hung loosely, as though it, too, had given up. His dark slacks could have used a steamer, the fabric still wrinkled from yesterday’s wear. But damn it, he was here, and in his mind, that amounted to something.

His gaze fell to the worn, stained carpet beneath his feet, the fibers a dull reminder of the countless hours spent in this place. He took a deep breath and stepped inside, the faint scent of stale coffee and printer ink filling his lungs. The office felt suffocating, the walls closing in as his heart raced with a mix of anxiety and resignation.

“You were late again.” His boss’s voice cut through the haze, sharp and unyielding. He took a slow sip from his coffee mug, the steam curling like a phantom in the air. Choso’s shoulders tensed, the realization dawning upon him like a cold wave—he had hoped to slip past his manager’s gaze unnoticed during that phone conversation.

“I know. I’m sorry, Mr. Caruso,” he started, desperation creeping into his voice. “But I can explain. The train I took barely got me on the right side of town in time, and then—”

Choso froze as he caught sight of his manager’s raised hand, signaling for him to halt the elaborate excuse that was already forming in his mind. He sighed, feeling the weight of defeat settle heavily in his chest. His boss set his coffee aside and leaned back, massaging the bridge of his nose with fingers that seemed to carry the weight of the world.

“Have a seat, kid." He gestures toward the chair opposite his desk, and Choso reluctantly takes it. The moment he settles in, the words spill out before his brain can catch up.

"Mr. Caruso, please let me explain.."

But Mr. Caruso shakes his head, cutting him off as he pauses to scrawl something on a nearby legal pad.

"Don’t beg. It makes my head hurt. Here…"

“What’s this?” Choso asked, glancing down at the slip of paper his boss had slid across the desk.

“It’s the contact information for a friend of mine down at the temp agency. Give her a call, and she can get you in as a favor to me—hopefully somewhere better for you.”

Choso’s heart sank. “So, I’m fired?”

“If you want to use that word, yeah. I’m releasing you.” His boss’s tone softened slightly, but the firmness remained. “Look, you’re smart. You have a good work ethic. Your metrics are decent, and there are worse numbers from people on this floor that I could compare to yours to back you up. But every day, you come in here looking like a fucking zombie. Falling asleep at your desk, barely on time, barely making an effort to look human…”

Choso’s brow twitched at the remark, a flicker of resentment igniting within him, but he held his tongue. It was true that he hadn’t been himself lately. The late nights, the pressure—maybe it had all become too much.

“I know. I’m just… stretched kind of thin right now,” Choso replied, choosing his words carefully. He felt the weight of the moment pressing down on him, and this hardly seemed like the appropriate time to vent about his personal struggles. Judging by the look on his manager's face, he knew it would be pointless.

“Yeah, well… this isn’t a decision I want to make, but it’s out of my hands. The people above me have a strict attendance policy, regardless of performance, and they’ve been giving me an earful about it already.”

Choso nodded despondently, his brow knitting tightly as the implications of the words sank in.

“I understand,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper, the gravity of the situation settling like a stone in his stomach.

“Hey, how old are you, kid?”

“Uh, 20, sir,” he replied, surprised by the sudden shift in conversation.

“Twenty. Shit. I barely remember my twenties. I’ve been working since I was fourteen, and once you hop on that train of scratching and surviving, it’s hard to get off. Hard to chase after anything else.”

Choso remained silent, unsure of how to respond. The truth hung in the air between them, heavy and unspoken, like an uninvited guest.

“I don’t know what your life looks like outside of this place,” his boss continued, leaning back in his chair, eyes narrowing as he studied Choso. “But I can tell by the way you’re looking at me right now that it’s not aligned with where this train will take you. You’re still young—go chase something worthy while you still got it in you…”

The words resonated within Choso, echoing in the hollow space of his chest. He felt a flicker of something—was it hope? Fear? Perhaps both. It was a stark contrast to the drudgery that had become his everyday existence. He glanced at the clock on the wall, the hands ticking away, reminding him of the time slipping through his fingers like sand.

“Maybe you’re right,” he finally said, his voice steadier than he felt. “Maybe it’s time to figure things out.”

His boss nodded slowly, a hint of understanding in his gaze. “Just remember, life’s too short to spend it on a train that doesn’t take you where you want to go. You’ve got the rest of your life ahead of you. Don’t waste it.”

Choso swallowed hard, the weight of the conversation settling in. He looked up, meeting his manager’s eyes, feeling a strange sense of clarity begin to emerge from the fog of uncertainty that had enveloped him for so long.

“But… if I’m wrong…” he started, his voice barely a whisper.

“Give Linda a call,” his boss replied, the finality in his tone leaving no room for argument.

Choso stood there for a moment, the slip of paper crumpling slightly in his grip as he processed the weight of the conversation. It wasn’t just a dismissal; it was a chance. A chance to escape the suffocating confines of a job that had become a cage. With a heavy heart but a flicker of hope igniting within, he nodded slowly, turning on his heel to leave the office, the door closing behind him with a soft thud—an echo of a chapter ending, but perhaps, just perhaps, the beginning of something new

As Choso settled into his seat on the train, he felt a complex swirl of emotions wash over him. The rhythmic clatter of the vessel against the tracks provided a comforting backdrop, but beneath the surface, his heart raced with uncertainty. He had just been released from his job—a decision made with understanding and compassion by his boss, who recognized that sitting at a desk wasn't suited for someone like him.

Relief began to unfold within him, a softening of the tension that had built up over the weeks. The weight of the monotony, the endless spreadsheets, and the sterile office environment had felt suffocating, stifling the creative spirit that thrived in his core. He couldn’t help but smile slightly at the thought of stepping away from that life, a sense of freedom blooming in his chest. The acknowledgment that he was meant for something different, something more vibrant, felt like a small victory.

Yet, as the city blurred by outside the window, that relief was tinged with a sharp edge of anxiety. The future loomed ahead, uncertain and daunting, like the dark tunnel the train occasionally passed through. Questions swirled in his mind: What would he do next? How would he sustain himself while pursuing his passion? The thrill of newfound freedom was quickly clouded by the reality of financial responsibilities and the pressure to make something of himself in a city that thrived on hustle and ambition.

Choso leaned back in his seat, staring at the flickering lights of the tunnel as they passed. The faces of fellow passengers were a blur, each lost in their own thoughts, and he felt a momentary connection to their shared solitude. He was not alone in his uncertainties; they too were navigating their own paths through the chaos of life.

The scholar that was nose deep in a ancient world history book.

The older woman in scrubs ,resting her eyes as well as her bones.

The young couple huddled together, sharing eat buds and watching something on the small scaled phone screen.

The single mother with her slumbering toddler in her lap as she watched the city pass.

With a deep breath, Choso tried to steady his racing thoughts. He reminded himself that this was a chance to embrace his true self, to dive back into the music that had always called to him. But with that reminder came the fear of failure, of not measuring up to the expectations he had set for himself. Would he find success in the world he craved? Could he transform his passion into a sustainable career?

As the train continued its journey, he felt the pull of hope fighting against the weight of doubt, each emotion vying for dominance. He closed his eyes for a moment, allowing the rhythmic movement of the train to soothe him, and he envisioned a future where he was no longer confined, but free to explore the music that had always been his lifeline. The uncertainty was daunting, but perhaps it was also a canvas waiting to be painted with new possibilities.

a/n: gorgeous character art all credited to @arekushisu_11 on twt&pinterest

<next chapter>

<Meet the Band>

[melaniesuazo29]

EVERYDAY MONUMENTS: OBJECTS AND SURFACES FINAL

Medium: chicken wire, brown paper bags, newspaper, flour, water, spray paint, duck tape, vinyl

Approaching this project i automatically challenged myself. I chose to do a cube, that means 3 ft each 6 sides not only that, it had these weird voids penetrated into the cube. I was STRUGGLING to do the wire form. For the sake of time I decided to switch and change up my idea. Out of my ten items that was really stuck in my head was this blue chapstick I got from the clinic at FIU for some odd reason. Mind you I switched my idea without even having any of those ten objects on me. Then I remembered something a drawing teacher taught me. Drawing from memory. Except this time I’m building from memory, so that’s what I did. Most of this was from my memory of how the item looked like.

[madilovrs]

She

Nancy Wheeler x fem!Reader

summary: you want nancy but you don’t know if nancy would want you

inspired by She by dodie

800 words

warnings: angst

tumblr stop screwing up my spacing challenge

You were smart and in all of the hardest classes at Hawkins High School. The only class you struggled with in your junior year was physics. Your struggle confused everyone who knew you because you had always been a science and math person. You had always thrived with the logic of science and math and the way there was always a right or wrong answer. It wasn't the concept of physics or the contents of the class that caused the worst grade of your junior year. It was the people in it.

Actually, one person in it.

At the beginning of the year, you had all gotten the opportunity to choose the person you wanted to share a two-person desk with.

"The seating chart would not be changed all year. No exceptions," Ms. Davis had droned. So you were adamant to pick someone god. On the first day of class, you discovered that you had physics with Nancy Wheeler. The two of you had known each other your whole life but were never close. Nancy was kind and you'd always admired her beauty and generosity. In recent years, she had also grown into a bit of a badass, not to mention she was extremely intelligent.

These were just some of the reasons you had asked her to sit together. However, she hadn't just helped you with physics. You and Nancy had become best friends. You two had sleepovers almost every week and you two knew everything about each other, you knew how she smelled and her favorite chapstick flavor. However, your feelings for her were different than hers for you. She had an effect on you that you had never had with a girl before.

You knew her feelings weren't reciprocated. The majority of the conversations the two of you had at sleepovers were about her boyfriend, Jonathon. You knew you would be better for Nancy though. It's not that Jonathon was a bad boyfriend by any means, but you were a better match, you could provide Nancy with everything she had ever wanted. But you knew that you couldn't think like that. You weren't allowed to like her.

Nancy Wheeler was a girl who liked boys.

----------

"Y/N, you gotta stop looking at her like that," Robin whispered while luffing your arm, noting your wistful gaze toward Nancy and Jonathon browsing Family Video's selection. You and Robin had been friends for a while, both being considered Hawkins High outcasts. The two of you worked together alongside Steve Harrington at Scoops Ahoy earlier in the summer, but due to the incidents at Starcourt, you were forced to relocate. The three of you, with a newfound bond, applied together at Family Video. 

At the time, it seemed like a good idea. Before you realized Jonathon's affinity for movies he dragged Nancy into.

"I know..." you said slowly, looking away. You are not allowed to look at her like that. That was a job for boyfriends.

"I mean you never know, Y/N/N, maybe she likes girls as well," Steve offered, "you'll never know until you tell her."

You shook your head immediately, "No. No, I couldn't. She means everything to me, I can't lose her." Robin and Steve exchanged a look. "I mean it's not that bad. She's pretty when she's happy.." You smile weakly while gazing at Nancy, knowing you cant risk ruining the bright smile on her face. She glanced over at you and offered a small wave, not waiting for a response before turning back to the wall of movies. You sucked in a sharp breath and looked at your feet again, biting your lip to stop the tears from falling. 

"Maybe she just... doesn't know you're an option?" Robin egged, willing you not to feel this way after witnessing the encounter, "let her know."

"Robin, it's okay," you turned to her, smiling to reassure her. "I'm okay. I’m her best friend, and her best friend wouldn't sacrifice her happiness for a selfish reason."

Robin nodded. She knew you were right, but that's not what you wanted. More than anything, you wanted to be with Nancy.

----------

Nancy was a writer, she was comfortable with the grey area of literature, but was also very versed in the logic of science and math, the right and wrong. You were only fond of the logic, you didn't understand that grey area that was up for interpretation. There was no 'maybe' or 'possibly' to you. Only 'yes' and 'no', 'right' and 'wrong'.

Your mind was made. Nancy had never talked about liking girls with you, she rarely talked about anything other than her relationships and schoolwork and journalism. In your mind, this was her expression of telling you that she only liked guys. You were each other's best friend, out of all people, you would be the first to know about her sexuality.

But maybe the real reason Nancy didn't tell you was that she was scared of losing you.

[xxrainshadowsxx]

Interpersonal Chapter 2

Cherry chapstick, subtle flirting, and Onceler's just a bit of an asshole who gets put in his place.

As you approach the building the next morning, you can't help but feel an enormous sense of trepidation. You have no idea what kind of mood he'll be in, or if he'll even want to see you after the craziness of yesterday. But you suppose there's no point in not facing the music. You need the job and for some unfathomable reason you still can't figure out, you made a promise to yourself; you want to help him as much as you're able to.

You quickly make your way to Mr. Onceler's office, and your only saving grace is that you're not hearing any screaming yet. You hesitate, then give a gentle knock. Better to be polite than to barge in, even though you're well aware he wouldn't extend you the same courtesy.

An impatient "Come in," answers you. It's hardly a promising opening, but you'll take what you can get. You pull the door open and slip inside the room.

He's frowning and tapping his fingers on his desk, but when he sees you his face noticeably brightens. "Oh, it's you!" he trills.

His reaction is nothing like you were expecting, though it lifts your spirits exponentially. You can't say why, but seeing him genuinely smile makes you feel fuzzy and warm inside. But instead of focusing on feelings that were entirely too confusing and out of place, you simply laugh. "Who else did you think I'd be?"

"My lawyers," he pouts, and you can't help but notice that he's kind of cute when he does so, before you force yourself to squash the thought down and refuse to acknowledge it further. "I sent them the NDA yesterday, and every time I send them a legal document they bombard me with things they want to change, even if it's already exactly how I want it."

"Well then, let's not talk about them if they're going to put you in a bad mood," you suggest. "Do you have anything for me before I head into my office for the morning?"

"I actually do. I meant to bring it up last night, but we got distracted." Really? That's what he was going to call his outburst? You nearly comment but just manage to bite back the snarky remark you had ready on the tip of your tongue and instead focus on what he's saying. "You need a thneed for your job. It's policy."

"It's actually not in the company policy, sir." This time you can't stop the comment from flying out of your mouth. "I triple-checked before I applied, because I knew I wouldn't be able to afford one for a while."

He sighed. "If there was one person I'd believe when they say they actually read the company policy, it would be you." You can't decide if he sounds amused or exasperated. Maybe somewhere in the middle? "But no, it's not required for every employee to have a thneed. However, your position will. You'll be accompanying me to company events, and need to represent us while there."

"I can get one, but it might have to wait a paycheck or two," you state bluntly. "I have to make paying rent my priority."

"Work isn't a priority?" he asks innocently enough, but you do see a flash of a challenge behind his eyes. Praying to whatever God might be listening that the challenge is a playful one, you press on.

"It is, but I need a place to live and food to eat in order to do my job. Wouldn't you agree sir?"

Let's see how he responds to that. Giving the challenge back to him was sure to shake things up a bit.

Unfortunately, he figures out exactly what you were doing. "You know I can't say it's not good to have food or shelter," he says with a wry smile before folding his hands together and resting his chin on them, elbows on the table. His deep blue eyes scan you for a moment. "You know, if I asked something of any of my other employees, they would bend over backwards to make it happen."

"I don't think I'm like most of your other employees, sir," you say with a shrug. 

"Believe me, I've noticed," he says with a short, bark-like laugh. "And I haven't figured out whether or not I like that about you."

"Maybe you can learn to like it," you suggest. That's not flirting, right? Definitely not. At least, you convince yourself it's not because you're enjoying the back-and-forth banter.

He pauses for a moment before responding and-wait, did his eyes just flicker up and down your body? There was absolutely no chance that had just happened, was there? Your own eyes had to have been playing a trick on you. He wouldn't do that. Nothing was ever going to go beyond friendly professionalism between the two of you.

So why in the ever-loving hell are you feeling disappointed? Something was clearly wrong with you today and you had to get it under control, pronto. 

"We'll see," he says softly, finally responding to the comment you'd nearly forgotten about. There's something tense in the air now, something that hadn't existed before. You could kick yourself. You had just been trying to develop a friendship with the man, not pretend like you were interested in him, because you most certainly weren't.

There's a pounding on the door, causing you to jump and Mr. Onceler to swear under his breath. "That'll be the lawyers," he mutters. He straightens in his chair before calling out "Yes?"

Sure enough, two men dressed immaculately in crisp business suits (which clashed dramatically with Mr. Onceler's flamboyant green suit) enter the room. They make a beeline for the desk but stop short when they notice you. "Oh, Mr. Onceler. We didn't realize you were busy," one of them says in an oily voice. "We can come back at a more convenient time…"

"It's fine," Mr. Onceler snaps. "I was just finishing up my morning meeting with my PA." He then spares you a glance. "I'm sure you have plenty to do. I'll let you know if I need you later."

That was as clear a dismissal as you've ever heard. You give him a quick nod before slipping into your office to, you know, actually do your job instead of inventing awkward scenarios in your head. Very soon, you'd have to find a happy medium of keeping things friendly with your boss and making sure you weren't crossing any lines.

But for now, work.

You didn't see Mr. Onceler again until early afternoon when he burst into your office, once again without knocking. Immediately, you see a difference in his attitude from this morning; his face is marred by a fierce scowl and he's practically stomping over to your desk instead of walking. You'd just pulled out your favorite chapstick and his eyes instantly zero in on it.

"I'm not paying you to put on makeup," he snarls, so hyper-aggressive that you're genuinely caught off guard. It takes you a moment to formulate a reply.

"It's not makeup. It's chapstick," you try and explain. "I'm just trying to put a little on while I finish up this email…" you trail off as you realize that his anger hasn't abated in the slightest.

"Whatever," he scoffs. "Why don't I have my sales reports for the week on my desk yet?"

That question throws you even more off guard. When the hell had he mentioned needing sales reports? You quickly and surreptitiously scan the emails you'd gotten that day to see if you'd somehow missed one from him, but no. You're so bewildered, the only thing you can think to do is look up at him and say, "Excuse me?"

"My. Sales. Reports," he growls, beginning to lean over you just as he had the night before. But if this was an intimidation tactic, it wasn't going to work; you were starting to find both your voice and your bravery.

"Hold on," you say, putting your hands in the classic "time-out" position. "First, the week isn't over. Do you want the report from last week or what we have from this week so far? Second, you never asked me for them. I can't do something for you if I don't know you want it done."

Thus far, you've been able to calm him when he's been in his fouler moods. Not so today. His scowl deepens as he pushes his face right into yours. "I do not give a single, solitary fuck if I asked before or not," he hisses. "I'm telling you right now that you don't get to leave until I see those reports on my desk." Without waiting for a response (or clarifying which reports he was talking about), he pushes himself back and marches out of your office, slamming the door as per usual.

You pause for a second to collect yourself. The hell was that? He was being completely irrational and, quite frankly, nasty.

You'll comply, but you decide you'll be a little mouthy when giving him his oh-so-precious sales reports. If he expected you to put up with his attitude quietly, he was about to be corrected real damn quick.

You get the reports back from the finance department right before your shift is scheduled to end, so at least you don't have to spend any extra time on his ridiculous requests. He never actually said which week he wanted, so you'd gotten both, and he could sort out what he needed his own damn self.

You print out the reports, staple the two different weeks together, then gather your things. You exit your office into his, finding him at his desk and still looking slightly bad-tempered. Before you can lose your nerve, you slam the papers down. 

"There's your reports," you bite out. "Now, if you don't have any other demands of me, I'm going home. Good night, sir."

You can tell you've stunned him, judging by his wide eyes and slightly agape mouth. But just like he'd done with you earlier, you don't give him a chance to respond before you toss your head back and saunter out of the room.

That day, as it turned out, was a perfect indicator of the several weeks to come. When Mr. Onceler was in a good mood, the days went well and you were able to enjoy pleasant conversations with each other. When he wasn't, he was irrational, impossible to please, and the two of you fought like cats and dogs because you refused to give in to his bad temper.

At least the bad days usually weren't several in a row. He seemed to recognize when he had majorly pissed you off, and while he never outright apologized, the mornings after his most volatile moods usually found him a bit meek and more cooperative than usual. You found that as long as you had those calm mornings afterwards, you could tolerate most of the nasty evenings.

At least until one day, almost three months into your employment. He had been riding out a horrible mood for four days now, and it didn't show signs of stopping any time soon. And you were getting completely fed up with him.

It was almost time for you to go home for an overdue weekend when he storms in. You're glad you had just put your chapstick away since he tends to make a big fuss over it for reasons unknown. But even though he can't even see it, the chapstick is still his first target. 

"It smells like cherries in here," he accuses, and it takes all of your self-control not to roll your eyes. Yes, your chapstick smells like cherries, and he was like a damn bloodhound when it came to the scent of your chapstick. He could smell the stuff even if it had been over an hour since you last applied it. And you were in no mood to try and placate him at the moment.

"What is your obsession with my chapstick?" you demand. "Like, do you want some? Because I can run down to the drugstore and pick some up for you come Monday. It's not a problem, I swear."

"Will you stop talking about the chapstick?" he finally interrupts. "I didn't come in here to talk to you about your chapstick, dammit."

"Then why do you bring it up every time you come into my office?" you fire back, not missing a beat. He had walked right into that one, and a spark of vindictive joy shoots through you when his eyes narrow as he realizes his mistake.

"Because it's distracting," he mutters, clearly conceding defeat for this round. "But again, not the point. Why haven't you gotten the thneed yet?"

Good Lord, not this again. Was he so desperate for a fight that he was willing to dredge up arguments from months ago? Apparently. You don't even try to stop yourself from rolling your eyes now. "As I've told you, I have to pay rent and feed myself first. I'd also like to have a bit of a savings fund. And I can see your schedule, remember? I'm in CHARGE of your schedule. If you have an event coming up that I'll need to be at and need one, I'll know about it in advance and make it happen."

"That's not–"

"That is what you're saying!" you explode, standing up from your desk to march towards him and get in his face like he so often loved to do to you. "Either you're saying I need something before I actually need it, or more likely, you want to pick a fight for some godforsaken reason. But I promise you, you want a fight, I'm more than happy to give you one."

"Do you forget who you're talking to?" he thunders back. "I don't like your attitude with me, got it? Do you know what your job is? If I ask you to jump, you say 'how high?' If I ask you for a flower on top of a mountain, you strap on your hiking boots. And if I ask you to buy a thneed, you buy a fucking thneed without giving me shit about it for once!"

"And would it kill you to ask nicely, for once?" At this point, the whole building can probably hear your raised voices, but you don't have the capacity to care. "You might find you'll get things you want done quicker if you sprinkle in a couple 'pleases' and maybe even a 'thank you' from time to time. I know the rest of your staff will cater to your every whim, but I am not someone you get to walk all over, no matter what my job description is. I WILL fight back and you WILL respect me, or I will walk out." Without giving him a chance to respond, you grab your bag and start to head out the door. "Good night sir," you add out of habit before you leave, thankful for the weekend that awaits you.

It's not until you're on the bus and halfway back home that you begin to think you may have gone just a little too far. You don't have any desire to take back any of your words, but you are beginning to regret sinking to his level and reducing to shouting.

But it can't be helped now. If he decides to fire you for acting just like him, then fine. He would be a hypocrite if he did, but you wouldn't be surprised. At least you won't have to worry about anything until Monday.

The next day, when you finally make your way downstairs after blissfully sleeping in for most of the morning, you find yourself mostly at peace with the situation. You're in a good mood and you don't want to let it spoil your day. You're mulling over a few different options, stuck between going to the gym or library first when your roommate calls you from the kitchen.

"There's a package that came for you," he says lightly, most of his attention on the lunch he's making himself. "It's over on the table."

A package? You have no idea who that could be from. Your sister, possibly, but you can't imagine why she wouldn't have mentioned she was sending something in your frequent phone calls with her.

The box is medium sized, and there's no return address on it. However, there's something familiar about the handwriting used for your own name and address.

You pick up the surprisingly light package and carry it up to your room. You pull out your keys to help you cut the tape when the address catches your eye again. The handwriting is much too familiar to be coincidental…

You let out an involuntary gasp as the realization finally hits you, and you wonder how it took you this long. "There's no way," you whisper to yourself.

You rip into the package as fast as you're able, and seconds later when it opens, your suspicions are confirmed. Sitting inside are several neatly folded thneeds. And not just the regular pink thneeds. Most of them were dyed different colors: orange, periwinkle, purple. You knew for a fact these colored ones were infinitely more expensive than the regular thneeds.

But why on earth would Mr. Onceler be sending you thneeds? You were positive it was him; no one else had the money to do this for you, and of course his handwriting had gotten your attention–you see it nearly every day.

Your first thought is that he believes you're just too poor to ever afford a thneed for yourself, and that sending you these is both some great act of charity in his mind and him being passive aggressive. But just as you begin to swell with anger, you spot a piece of paper in the box. You recognize this too, it's from his personalized memo pad. Curiously, you unfold the paper, only to see one word.

Sorry.

Oh. Shit.

Here he was, apologizing to you and giving you something you never would have been able to obtain otherwise, and you went and assumed the worst of him. Instead of firing you, which he was well within his rights to do, he extended an olive branch, and hadn't even waited until the work week started to do so. Meanwhile, you'd stewed in your anger and had managed to convince yourself it had been a good thing. This was a slap in the face in the worst of ways.

How were you ever going to face him on Monday?

[xiaophobic]

‧₊˚.𖧧. NOT A JOKE!

including! — hu tao/reader <3

genre/warnings! — fluff, KISS, elements of christmas, inspired by a real situation i had LOL

༉‧₊˚. SYNOPSIS! — jokingly flirting can only go so far before it transpires into something more. ‘tis the season, you guess.

“okay, let’s kiss,” hu tao wrapped her arms around your neck, pulling you in from your seat opposite of her.

your heart quite literally halts itself in your chest. you’d been jokingly flirting, as you do, and suggested that you two should “find a mistletoe and kiss”. it was too quick for you to register when the atmosphere had changed to whatever this moment is, but now her lips are right in front of yours and god, if this isn’t a blatant opportunity you’re not sure what is.

eyes flicker from her eyes to her lips, and while it’d be so easy to lean forward and answer every question regarding every fantasy you’ve ever had about her, you’re nervous.

“kiss? like, kiss me?” you’re too cute, really, getting all flustered after you’re granted what you want. she ought to call you ungrateful.

“are my arms around someone else’s neck?” she answers satirically, enunciating her words by smoothing her fingers around your nape, lulling you just a bit closer.

her flowery pupils are fixated on your lips, tongue darting out to soften her own as though she’s not already wearing chapstick of your favorite flavor. as much as you’ve been dreaming of this, she has triple the amount.

you just sit there, so pretty for her. if you feel what she feels why has this taken so long? she doesn’t think she can wait any longer.

“can i kiss you?”

her gaze never leaves your lips as she speaks. oh my god, she’s serious. were you serious? you guess you’re finally being forced to confront that.

“wh— okay, f-friends don’t kiss,” wow, she’s actually got you stuttering. your actions challenge your words because if that were true, why’re your hands tracing her waist? why’s your heart beating so fast and why are you revving up the courage to plead yes?

“pretend we’re not friends then,” she’s so, so close.

“just say the word.”

the courage somehow escapes and finds you within the same moment, as you can’t manage to persuade an affirmation from your lips, yet you’ve got little to no issue meeting hers. kissing her is nothing like what you’ve imagined. each second that she’s yours is almost intoxicating, your breathing excitingly in tandem. she tastes like candy canes and confidence and love, and it’s so much better when it’s not a joke.

thank you so much for reading <333 stay safe & ily

[ihatebnha]

Hi!! Can I get a bakugou who’s s/o decides to not wear anything for a day and challenges him to control himself for the whole day? Thank you!!

hi bby! i really hope you don’t mind, but i had to change the prompt a little bit since i couldnt imagine being nakey for a day... i hope you still enjoy what i was able to come up with!!🥺

Thank u so much for waiting!!

premise: you do your skincare routine topless to tease mr. Bakugo 

-

It’s not very often that Bakugo sees you doing your skincare. You often take so long that by the time you’re done, he’s already in bed waiting for you. 

It’s not really that concerning, and it’s not like he actually cares… But tonight, for some reason, things are different. They’re different and he knows it.

Maybe it’s the time you spend actually in the shower that gets to him. Maybe it’s the fact that he can smell your lotion from where he’s sitting on the bed. Maybe it’s even that he’s ready to cuddle now. Or maybe… 

It’s the fact that you come out of the bathroom completely topless. 

Braless, too. Dressed only in minuscule black and white shorts that leave almost nothing to the imagination, not that he really has to imagine anything. 

And that’s the problem... your body almost too tantalizing to resist, tits too pretty... that he most definitely has to do something about it. 

He groans out your name, throwing the book he was preoccupied with reading to the side as you glance at him, smile, and turn back to the mirror of your vanity. 

“Come here,” Bakugo says gruffly, lips curving into a boyish pout as he crosses his arms over his chest. 

You turn to him again, dumbly, refusing to acknowledge the very apparent situation at hand.

“I said,” Bakugo tries again, “Come here.”

You laugh, your hands moving to rest on your waist as you take your time putting down the chapstick you were holding and turn to him. 

“Why?”

Your voice is innocuous, sweet, as if you’re trying to piss him off with your very blatant attempt at getting his attention, and he can’t help but groan, it very obviously working, and you know it. 

Taking pity on him, you walk to him, your little shorts riding up even farther than he thought possible as you join him on the bed. He pats his lap, albeit with quite a lot of force, and your eyes light up, crawling over the sheets to throw a leg over his thighs and get comfortable on his lap. 

You are still topless, pretty tits now in his face, and he can’t help but grab them, your shameless behavior all the invitation he needs. Running his thumbs over the soft flesh of your nipples, gently, sweetly, he admires them, before turning his face to yours in a very different, nasty sneer.

“You did this on purpose.” 

You purse your lips, feigning stupidity, your eyes knowing, bright, as if to make him work for it. 

“Did what, baby?” 

He growls, using the meat between his thumb and forefinger to pinch one of the delicate buds in his grasps as he fondles you, teeth clenching together as he narrows his eyes in frustration. 

“Started walking around topless like a little slut.” 

At his words, you laugh, noticing how his hips having started shifting below yours, a now noticeable tent forming in his pajama pants, embarrassingly large for something the both of you know could’ve been avoided. 

Still, despite the intention of getting him riled up, and the original goal of walking around without a shirt on, you blatantly refuse to address the predicament. 

“I don’t know, Katsuki,” you coo, voice teasingly serious, eyebrows raised in pretend shock as you move to place your hands on his shoulders in an attempt to stable yourself against his movements, “Seems to me that you like it.” 

Bakugo throws his head back, purposely banging it against the headboard he’s leaning on, his eyes squinting in frustration, and you laugh, moving to run a hand over the nape of his neck and thread your fingers into the soft hair that grows there to smooth over the new wound. 

As if to escape your grasp, he tilts forward, moving his chin so as to start kissing the swell of a breast, right below your heart, before latching his mouth onto a nipple and sucking, hard.  

Immediately, you tense, letting out a quick whimper at the sudden, though Bakugo would argue expected, shudder that occurs at the feeling of his mouth on your nipple. 

Clenching your hand even harder in his hair, you pull at his scalp, almost as if that would do anything to disconnect him from your chest… Even though he’s one of the strongest people in Japan, and even though he’s your boyfriend… One who just had to watch you walk around with your boobs out. 

“Katsuki,” you half moan, to which he hums around you in acknowledgement, the vibrations going right to your cunt, “Wait.” 

He pulls off you with a pop and a glare, not looking into your eyes, spit dripping from your nipple onto the bottom of his shirt. Your hands have now moved and are pulling on the sleeves of his shirt, and in the brief pause that follows, Bakugo stubbornly moves to start sucking a hickey onto your other breast in wait of your words.  

Before he gets far, however, lips hovering just above the curve of your inner breast, nose pressed to your sternum, you stop him, brushing a hand through his bangs to push his forehead back, your face warmed and eyes wide, but expression rather smug. 

“I’m not done with my skincare yet.” 

[slightlymore]

remote control

fem reader x kun x doyoung x ten

genre: smut, pwp, some crack because 96 line duh

warnings: 4some and everything regarding that,,, unprotected, cum play, toys, overstimulation, masturbation, fingering, oral, little slaps to the coochie and thighs, grinding, anal ahem let’s go

idk what spirit possesed me while writing this 😳😳 don't take me accountable it was not me I swear ✋✋✋absolutely not for the faint of heart

vibe: they give you some birthday cake :)

words: 3.8k

_____

Ten groaned after he put a foot in the candle-lit living room. 

"Y/N, when you invited me for dinner I didn't expect to see the faces of those two idiots as well."

Doyoung, kneeling on the soft carpet in front of the tv, rolled his eyes while Kun furrowed his eyebrows offended. 

You patted Ten's shoulder with a giggle. 

"It's a festive dinner, the more, the merrier." 

"I hate to say that Ten's right, because he's never right, but I also thought this was a romantic duo escape," Doyoung finished arranging his presents in the dedicated spot as if it were Christmas and sighed. 

"Well,” Ten took a chip from the bowl in front of Doyoung, “I see that we share one brain cell. Is that the good shirt Kun? The one that shows off the pecs?" Ten teased the older who scoffed. 

"Do you know how cold it is?" he eyed Ten's exposed chest as he had three open buttons. 

Doyoung snorted.

You bit your lower lip to not giggle again then clapped your hands once as to get their attention. 

"No fighting for one night. Please? The food will be here soon." 

"Wait, you didn't cook?" Ten placed his gifts on the coffee table. 

You shook your head and he chuckled, high fiving you. 

"What are we doing in the meantime? Movie?" Kun sat on the couch, staring at the way Ten didn't let your hand go for a few more moments. "Come sit here," he continued, patting the spot near him, "you said you were very tired."

You sighed and fell on the couch, the sudden movement making Kun wobble so he grabbed your thigh to sustain himself. He considered it a very comfortable armrest since he didn't show any desire to take his hand away. 

"We can open the gifts," Ten sat on the ground in front of you with a wiggle of the eyebrows. 

Doyoung whined dramatically. "But it took me so much time to arrange them aesthetically."

"No one cares about yours. Y/N, open mine," the younger smiled excited, his smirk making you chuckle once and you accepted the gift he was extending you. 

"What's this?" 

Doyoung brought his gifts along and sat on the other side of the couch, his shoulder rubbing on you when he tried to find a more comfortable position. 

"Open it and you'll see," Ten murmured. 

The box under the wrapping paper was foreign to you so you shook it a few times. Kun frowned trying to read better and Doyoung gasped after a few moments of blinking. 

"Ten? Is this a vibrator?" you finally asked when your hand wrapped the pink toy. 

Ten laughed at your reaction and took the object from your hands. 

"Happy birthday. It's a remote vibrator," he explained happily. "You can control it with your phone. Remember when you told me about how it's hard for you to change speed on your vibrator in certain positions? Since it's hard to reach?" 

Kun and Doyoung shifted on their seats at his words and you felt your face burn. "Ten! That was confidential," you grabbed the toy back and shoved it into its box.

"Make sure to try it. If you need help to understand how it works I can help you," he winked and you couldn't help but giggle a little. 

"Well, now you have to check mine," Doyoung disrupted the moment by shoving his box in your arms instead. 

Ten leaned back on his hands with a grin, so sure of his gift being the best one that he choked on air at the sight of the white delicate material in your hands. 

"Oh, Doyoung! It's beautiful!" you touched the lingerie with your fingertips before lifting it, looking at the way the light could easily pass through it. "I hope it fits."

"It will," Doyoung was proudly smiling at you, probably patting himself on the shoulder in his head. 

"Doyoung keeps staring at your ass so he probably knows your size but I won't believe it will fit until I see you in that myself," Ten passed his tongue on his lip and you rolled your eyes positively amused. 

"Ten, stop being horny challenge," Kun murmured. 

"I can let you see her in my gift if you let me also teach her how to use the toy," Doyoung offered a deal. 

"Uhm? Guys? I'm right here?" 

Ten and Doyoung ignored you, deep into their stares battles until Ten smiled slyly as if they silently came to a compromise by themselves. 

"Y/N? What do you seriously think about that?" he locked eyes with you, the heaviess of that suggestion making a lump form inside your throat. 

"Model that for us?" Doyoung whispered on your side. "We just want to make sure it fits," he raised his palms, no sly intentions - he meant.

Passing the occasion to fuck your hottest friends on your birthday? You were all heated up at the thought and you did want to hide away, but their hungry eyes gave you courage. 

So you shrugged, faking nonchalance. "Okay."

The guys let out surprised sounds and Kun's hands on his gifts tightened, making the packet crinkle. 

Doyoung sat up from the couch and Ten followed suit as if needing to move. The sudden change of air made your hair swoosh and you chuckled before noticing Kun's gift. 

"Oh, right," you tried to take it but Kun was quick to pull it away. 

"It's not for me?" you blinked at him a few times. 

"Uhm," Kun sucked the air through his teeth. 

"Oh? Kunnie is embarrassed that his gift is very PG? Did you buy socks?" Ten teased him, the hot pink toy already in his hands making his image even wilder. 

"Come on, Kun," you smiled. "Whatever it is, it's alright. I'll love it," you assured him, stretching one hand again and you both laughed as he kept it out of your reach. "Kun!" you grunted, almost climbing in his lap. 

The man slid away from you on the couch, your body hovering over his when he didn't have any more space to run away to, until you straddled his waist and made your way upwards, grabbing at his extended arms and pulling down. 

A little triumphal squeal left your lips when you reached the box and you quickly opened it. Kun let out a defeated sigh, his free hands now resting on your thighs draped on both sides of his torso. 

So concentrated on the gift, you didn't even notice the lack of teasing from the other two when Kun whispered. 

"You can use it as a blindfold."

The silk scarf in your hands felt like water on your skin. 

"What?" you finally realized what Kun said. 

"Like this," he sat up and your body slid down to his thighs in the movement. He took the scarf and gently placed it on your eyes. 

It felt so soft on your eyelids that you sighed pleased. 

You chuckled slightly embarrassed from the sudden silence but it was quick to get disrupted when you felt your lips kissed gently by Kun. 

"It heightens your other senses," he whispered like a demonstration.

The other two groaned loudly, bickering about how you needed to change into the lingerie first before doing anything else. But your mind was too concentrated on how Kun's body felt under yours and on his hands palming your lower back and going to cup your ass to actually hear anything at all. 

You pushed into the kiss, even more, diving your hands into Kun's hair, the blindfold making the sensation even more acute indeed.

"Kun, don't be greedy," you heard Doyoung talk and Kun let your tongue go. You really liked it and desperately wanted to keep your mouth occupied, so when Kun turned you around with your back to touch his chest, you hummed pleased to feel someone's lips on yours again. A different taste and a different technique and you wondered if it was Doyoung, his teeth on your lower lip making you whine. 

"I knew you were a biter," you murmured and his breath, hitting your face as he chucked so close to you, caressed your skin so deliciously that you wanted to feel it everywhere. And thank goodness that Kun was there because he gave you just that, his tongue licking your neck in little circles before he started to suck on it. You whimpered and felt Doyoung pull your jaw, even more, catching all of your sounds with his mouth again. 

"I washed it-" you heard Ten enter the living room again and you wondered when he left in the first place. "Oh shit, yall already like this?" he commented and you dropped your hand from Doyoung's stomach to his crotch and felt his hard rock cock under the pants. He bit your lower lip again at the sensation and you whined, mirroring his heavy breaths. Then you whined again, this time alone when Kun's hands were quick to pull your sweater off your frame. He adjusted your blindfold again before palming your arms at the sudden goosebumps formed on your skin. 

In a second your lips got occupied again and this time you tasted Ten's chapstick instead of Doyoung's mints, the latter probably occupied with fumbling with your pants. Your bra got opened by Kun's hands at the same moment your bottoms got dragged away from your legs. Your knees buckled under Doyoung's cold touch and he whistled silently when you opened them up to drape over Kun's legs. The latter's fingers were gently cupping your soft breasts and you had to break off the kiss to pant. Ten didn't complain and promptly dropped to your chest instead, letting his tongue draw wet stripes around your nipples then flicking your swollen buds with such vigour to make you squirm in Kun’s arms. 

“You’re so fucking wet,” you heard Doyoung’s voice somewhere on your left, probably enjoying the view. “You like to have three guys all over you, don’t you?” 

Your mind started to buzz when Kun’s hands dropped to your stomach, your breasts occupied by Ten’s mouth, and when they grasped at the cotton of your panties you squeezed your thighs together. 

Doyoung clicked his tongue and lightly slapped them open again. “Be a good girl and open for Kun.” 

“Are you going to take my fingers well, baby?” you heard the latter whisper into your ear. You moaned, letting your head fall backwards on his shoulder and Kun was quick to suck on your exposed neck. 

“Yeah,” you breathed out and your hands automatically went to Ten’s hair and pulled when Doyoung hooked his fingers under your panties and dragged them down your legs. 

Completely nude in front of them, you could feel Kun’s jeans rubbing on your bare ass skin, his soft sweater making you want to fall deeper into his embrace. 

“Fuck, I might just cum right now,” Ten murmured, lightly caressing your legs.

You wondered what he was looking at but then in a moment your lips got parted by Kun's fingers and when he started to gently rub your wetness, everyone swore softly under their breath, and you knew.

You whined and arched your back into his touch, the thought of giving them all a show going to your head. And you got even dizzier when Kun turned your head around to shove his tongue inside your mouth just when you felt someone else's tongue lap at your core. 

The wet sounds were sinful and there were so many hands on your body that you squirmed, the heat of them collecting all inside the nub someone was mercilessly flicking. And when he groaned, breathing out on your pussy, you recognized his voice and tried to imagine just how hot Doyoung looked between your legs. 

"I want to see you," you murmured breathlessly against Kun's mouth. Ten clicked his tongue amused. 

"Don't think so."

"You need to cum first, baby. Is that alright?" Kun asked with a low raspy voice.

His hands kept roaming your breasts and his cock was so hard against your ass that you wanted him to bury it in you already.

A loud wet smack made it difficult for you to talk and Doyoung's soft laugh sent vibrations through your body. 

"Yeah. This is how I want you. Fucked so good it's difficult to talk." 

Your legs twitched as you felt his fingertips nudge at your entrance and when you felt one slowly pumping you, your own fingers gripped Kun's arms that were keeping up thighs apart.

"If you're like this with just one finger, what's going to happen with all of our cocks?" Ten wickedly whispered near your jaw and you realized he was kneeling on the couch near you. 

"Are you going to be a good girl and take Ten in your soft mouth, baby?" Kun's teeth grated at your earlobe and you gasped loudly, feeling Doyoung inserting his second finger, scissoring inside of you so deliciously to make you beg. 

"Close, please, so close-," you mumbled then moaned Doyoung's name as he sucked on your hard clit. 

Your sounds got all choked up as you felt Ten's fingers tapping at your lower lip. You opened your mouth wide, tongue out waiting for him. Kun's blunt nails dug into your ass at the view and Ten grunted, presumably fisting his cock before slowly pushing past your lips. You relaxed your jaw and lifted your palms to place on his stomach but Kun was quick to grab your wrists and block your movements. 

"We want you helpless, baby. No touching. Let Ten have fun with you as he pleases."

His voice was so teasing that your whined, face stuffed with Ten's cock, giving Doyoung even more drive to eat you all out. He knew you were close so he picked up the pace, for a moment the only sounds in the room - your wet pussy and choking sounds. The vibrations of your throat were driving Ten insane as he held your head with one hand and fucked your mouth. Kun's fingers flicking your nipples just added to it and you were completely gone, cumming on Doyoung's hot tongue in seconds, legs shaking and hands gripping the first thing you could find. 

"Fuck, you're so good," Ten's voice was becoming a whine as he let you go to breathe and come down your high. 

Doyoung's lips were peppering kisses on your thighs as Kun's praises lingered in your ears. 

"Now give us another one, babe," Doyoung hovered over you and kissed your lips, letting you have a taste of your arousal. 

You dragged the blindfold to your neck and squinted, the view keeping you dizzy. 

You turned your head to Ten and opened your mouth again, shifting off Kun's lap. Ten was quick to slide on your tongue, hand grabbing a fistful of your hair to anchor himself. You whined and felt Kun's hands grab your waist, letting him adjust your body on all fours to his liking. And when you heard his belt unbuckling, your whole body twitched again. 

"Shit," he let his palm drag between your wet lips, wetting his cock with his fist and pumping himself a few times. 

Ten was kind enough to slide out as Kun stretched you out because it felt so good that you gritted your teeth. 

"Good girl," Doyoung hummed, hand moving your hair out of your face. "Does that feel good?" 

"Yeah," you breathed out. "Want your cock too."

Doyoung inhaled sharply and took his phone out of the back pocket. Ten moaned curses and you looked up right in time to see the hot spurts before closing your eyes. You felt them on your face and you were quick to open your mouth as well. 

"Fuck, Y/N," Ten breathed out, collecting some with his fingers and shoving them in your mouth. You licked them thoroughly, jolting as Kun spanked your ass once as if requiring your attention. He didn't need that, because the way his heavy cock felt inside of you was the only thing roaming your head, and when Doyoung finally got close too, you realized what the phone was needed for. 

The buzz of the vibrator filled your ears and when he placed it on your nipples first you thought you were going to go insane. 

"Hm, our little fuck toy enjoys this quite a lot," Doyoung hummed, letting it slide down your stomach. 

"Do our little toy also want all of her pretty holes used?" Kun asked, his spit falling between your asscheeks under his thumb. He caressed you gently before giving it a trial press down. 

"Yeah yeah please," you breathed out, wiggling your ass against his stomach when he stopped fucking you. 

"Toy or cock princess?" Ten caressed your face with both hands, lips so close that you were dying to kiss him. 

"Cock."

"Hm," he smiled wickedly. "Doyoung, you heard the order."

Said man chuckled. "Yes ma'am."

Kun was quick to slide out and you whined at the sudden emptiness. The toy passed from Doyoung's hands to Ten's and for a moment you wondered what they would use that for now. 

"Ride me, love," Kun looked breathtaking leaning down on the couch. You turned around and straddled his lap, the build-up of your orgasm already gone and you were desperate to go back there. 

You closed your eyes as you sat on his cock again, sliding down slowly until meeting the base with your clit. Kun grabbed your waist and pulled you down on his chest, your nipples starting to rub on his sweater. You loved it but needed his naked body so you slid your palms underneath it to meet his hot skin. He lifted his arms up and threw it to the side, letting your breasts bounce on his face as you rolled your hips. 

A sudden movement made you turn your head behind you to where Doyoung placed himself. His palms soothed your spine and got to your face. You accepted his fingers into your mouth as Kun watched with open lips - just the view of his cock disappearing inside of you enough to make him go over the edge. As Doyoung's fingers gently nudged at your asshole, Kun gladly accepted your nipples in his mouth, hands squeezing the base of them. 

"Relax, baby. You're doing so well," Doyoung's low voice accompanied his fingering. 

"Fuck," you grabbed Kun's hands, the difference between their movements, gently and harsh, making you unable to think. And you almost forgot about Ten right where the buzz of the vibrator got closer to you. 

"Ah shit," Doyoung groaned through gritted teeth, his tip slowly going past your entrance. "I've always wanted to fuck your pretty ass."

You inhaled sharply at the sensation, Kun stopping with difficulty to give you time to adjust to Doyoung's girth and when you begged them to move again, they didn't hold back. 

It was intoxicating and so dirty that your head was spinning. They fucked you at different speeds on purpose and you were bouncing between their bodies like an actual fuck toy. 

"Such a good slut, taking two cocks at the same time," Ten commented, his hand already palming himself again. 

Kun let his head fall back and closed his eyes, his trembling hands on your waist telling you he was close. 

"Are you going to let Kun cum inside that little pussy of yours?" Doyoung leaned down, grabbing your jaw to tilt your head backwards.

"Yeah, yes, yes," you mumbled nonsense, so close to the edge yourself. 

Doyoung's hand slid to your neck and pressed a little, choking your loud moans.

It all got desperate in a matter of moments, Kun's rhythmic thrusts completely gone and Doyoung's quick snaps to keep you on edge, all until Kun groaned and went limp underneath you. His cum filled you all up as he thrust a few more times riding his high. 

"Not a single baby girl will remain unsatisfied," Ten announced, breath heavy thanks to the spectacle, the toy in his hands finally making sense when he placed it on your clit. Everyone groaned as you clenched on their cocks, Kun's half-hard one still inside of you. 

"Fuck, Ten-," he whimpered. 

"What is it, Kun? Can't take some overstimulation?" his friend teasingly retorted. 

"Cumming-cumming so close-," you fell on Kun's chest and he wrapped your body with his arms as it swung back and forth at Doyoung's movements. 

The latter was also close given his heavy breath and tight grip on your ass. 

"Are you going to cum with me, love?" he asked. "Can't do it alone, understood?" 

"Shit Doyoung-," 

"Understood?" he slapped your ass harshly and you mewled, nodding fast. 

"Keep that in," Ten whispered, adjusting the vibrator to hit the sweetest spot on purpose. 

Kun whined against your face, his cock already hard again inside of you but unable to move. 

"Three-," Doyoung's voice was rough. 

You whined, nails leaving red marks on Kun's shoulders. 

"I can't anymore!" 

"Two-"

Your legs started to shake uncontrollably as Doyoung's cock railed you just as intensly. 

"Cum for me princess," he finally ordered and you almost screamed, the orgasm washing over you so hard that you were afraid you'd blackout. Doyoung came just as hard, his cum filling your other hole to the rim. 

Ten gave you a break and took away the wet toy, his eyes blown out and panting lips. 

"You're so fucking gorgeous," he whispered. 

Kun's cock twitched inside of you and you let him go, sliding down on his body as Doyoung sat back on the couch, eyes trained on the way you were spilling with his seed. You let your legs drap over his thighs, resting on your stomach as you reached Kun's cock, eagerly taking it into your mouth. Your ass in the air on Doyoung's lap was too pretty to be left alone and Ten was quick to hand the other the toy. 

"Fuck, you're amazing," Kun grabbed your face, looking at the way you pursed your lips around him. 

You were a mess - pleasure tears poking at your eyes, saliva on your chin and cum sliding out of your holes. Doyoung was quick to push it inside again with the vibrator though, loving the way your ass jiggled in his hold under his light spanks. You cried out at the overstimulation then whined helplessly again as Ten spread your legs apart.

"Can you take me as well, love?" he pressed his tip on your raw clit and when you let out a positive moan he slid inside easily with a deep swear. He felt heavenly and his whiny void was by far the sexiest. 

Doyoung stood up to give Ten some room to play in and he got close to your stuffed face. You hummed around Kun's cock and your body shook as Ten gently placed the toy between your ass cheeks as he fucked your tight pussy.

You looked up at Doyoung with glossy eyes and letting Kun go for a moment you let your tongue out. 

Doyoung smiled wickedly and slid his cock inside your mouth.

[babycatlix]

it is sunday, that means when i got up this morning, i changed to tray #2. for tray #2, the bottom tray is definitely tighter than tray #1, i can feel pressure on my crowded bottom teeth now and i've only had the tray in for about an hour. the top tray doesn't feel much different. and i know some of you, if not all, don't care about this 😂 but i wanna keep a record for myself.

okay, so my first 72 hours of attachments and invisalign is much different than all the videos i binged. all the videos i binged said that the first 72 hours with attachments, "was the worst pain of my life 😩" now, i don't know if it's bc i have a pretty high pain threshold, my teeth just weren't moving super dramatically/aggressively yet, OR bc i've had braces before and my body remembers this type of pain and i'm just ignoring it. for me, the first 72 hours with invisalign was relatively painless in terms of tooth pain. i did have an unrelated migraine on friday morning and my top tray was rubbing my cheeks raw (i wore orthodontic wax to help) but i haven't experienced tooth pain or discomfort until i changed trays.

the biggest ongoing challenge for me is eating with my trays in. yes, i know that you're not supposed to, however, this is what my orthodontist prescribed and in the words of lee felix, "i'm just doing what i'm told 😇" i'm still learning what foods i can easily chew without feeling like i'm going to break my trays. i know that this is just something i have to get used to, but again, eating with plastic covering your teeth and not being able to feel the food on your teeth is such a weird sensation. crunchy things are still at the top of weird feelings 😂 i'm sure that the more i eat with them in the more used to it i'll get and i'll be more confident in actually chewing. i'm still barely chewing before i swallow.

i also had a lot of trouble getting my trays out the first 3 times i did it. i did have to use an "ortho key" (a handy device to remove the trays) to remove my top tray the first 3 times i did it. but now, i can easily pop both the top and bottom trays out just using my fingers. i'll still probably have an ortho key in my bag just in case.

i also put together some little "essentials" bags for me to carry in my bag and to leave at work. basically, after i'm done eating, i need to remove my trays, floss, and brush my teeth and trays. so i have a little bag with everything i need, toothbrush and toothpaste, floss, ortho key (just in case), a chewy (a soft silicone squishy to chew on) and one of my aligner cases. the chewys are for biting on to make sure your trays are properly on your teeth. mine are shaped like little popsicles 🥰

my mouth has also been hella dry. i normally drink a lot of water, but the last 3 days have been boarding on ridiculous 😂 and i've been using a combo of plain chapstick and vasaline to keep my lips hydrated.

i think that's all for this update. again, this is really just for me to keep track of my experience, it's okay if you don't care 😂 i hope you have a good week, stay safe out there, and stay hydrated my friends! 💖

[k3lynn]

mine — katsuki bakugou

yandere! katsuki bakugou x reader

cw: yandere au, 3rd year bakugou, violence, reader got female genitalia, anger, off-“screen” murder, mention of (minor) character death, blood, lucidness, possessiveness, degradation, manipulation, stalking, threats, masturbation, implication of sex, swearing, assault, narcissism, horror, slightly delusional katsuki, panic attack, non con, mention of suicide

- I do not condone any of the behavior here, nor do I try to romanticize it. (definition: make it seem like a good thing) any future/current dark fics are purely for entertainment purposes. Also, I don’t think bakugou would EVER do this- I’m just using some dark traits he used to have and twisting them to fit this situation. Not completely proof read and edited, I am exhausted right now I’m sorry. I say some mean things about some characters but I don’t mean it 💗

words: 1.8k

𝙱𝙰𝙲𝙺 𝚃𝙾 𝙱𝙽𝙷𝙰 𝙼𝙰𝚂𝚃𝙴𝚁𝙻𝙸𝚂𝚃 // 𝙱𝙰𝙲𝙺 𝚃𝙾 𝚈𝙰𝙽𝙳𝙴𝚁𝙴 𝙼𝙰𝚂𝚃𝙴𝚁𝙻𝙸𝚂𝚃

Look at me.

Look at me.

Look at me.

Look at me.

Look at me.

WHY WON’T YOU LOOK AT ME.

Poor little Y/N. You’ve caught the Big Bad Wolf’s attention. Ready to snatch you up and drag you into the deepest parts of the forest where no one will ever find you.

You’ll be all mine, and I’ll be the only thing you’ll ever have to see again.

You’ve been in the same class for 3 years now- and all he had to show for it is an occasional wave, and a shy little “Hi Bakugou” every morning that made his heart leap out of his chest.

Enough for most, but not for him.

In turn, he would tsk. Facing away and setting his head down on the desk- attempting to hide the roaring blush adorning his cheeks and the subtle shuffling in his pants- the way your voice alone could make his balls tighten in need.

Still- you give him merely a glance. He is always around you, but your attention is given to someone else.

Any extra would overlook his grumbling for typical-Katsuki doing his own thing. In reality, he’s holding himself back from snapping and taking you by force.

He wants you to come to him.

You have no reason not to. He’s perfect. Probably the best student to ever enter U.A. High, and on path to become the best pro hero to ever graduate from it.

Coming first in both the Entrance Exams AND the sports festival- a victory he still denies, holding some of the highest grades in class- 3rd only to some geek girl he could easily out-rank in combat and that shitty half n’ half. Even perceptiveness, intellect, and determination that can rival dumb Deku.

He even possesses great skills in cooking and music- Katsuki is a natural-born genius. Anybody who isn’t conscious towards his incredible talents might as well be living under a rock-

Unbeknownst to you, he’s giving you the generous chance to decide when you’ll be his. But his patience wears thinner every day.

It would have only taken a second to turn around in your seat and notice his piercing red eyes glaring at the back of your head.

So why don’t you notice me.

-

He doesn’t understand why it’s you he obsesses about. He can’t even remember when this whole mess started.

He tried denying his feelings. But quickly- they built up and festered inside him, begging to come out. Love, possessiveness, same thing.

Whether it be watching your twist and turn in the obstacle course- then running to the nearest bathroom to furiously grip his cock.

Snatching your chapstick when you’re not looking and rubbing it all around his own lips- imagining that’s what your lips would taste like if you just kissed him-

Restraining you during combat training by wrapping his arms around you- squeezing your breast a little more than necessary. Pinning you to the floor until you admit defeat.

Or even sneaking into your dorm while you’re in the shower to grab a new pair of panties from your dirty laundry, adding it to the stash he keeps hidden under his bed.

Stalking you. Keeping you close at all times without you even knowing it.

Indeed, he knows he’s a sick and twisted human being.

But by now he hardly cares- he’s worked too hard to ever even imagine of changing his perfect target. Nobody is more deserving of you than him.

So if he has to confront, threaten, and beat every single person in this stupid school to monopolize you for himself- he gladly will. Anyone who goes againts that is challenging him.

He scoffs anytime a boy approaches you- it’s well known around school that anyone who attempts to buddy up with you mysteriously ends up in a hospital room with no recollection of what happened. People even started seeing you as a sign of bad luck.

He’s nice enough to allow you some friends though. But only ones who will guarantee you’ll be around him as much as possible.

So you sit with him, Kirishima, racoon eyes, dunce face, and tape boy in lunch. No one else. Right in front of him.

You’re chatting away with Mina, but unusually, something special came up in conversation.

He always stays focused on his lunch- switching between listening in and day dreaming about bending you over the lunch table and grinding on your ass-

Katsuki’s stomach dropped. His eyes widened- what did Mina just say?

There’s a boy in the management department, a quirkless 2nd year nobody smart enough to somehow get into U.A.

And he asked you out on a date after school.

Shit.

No.

No no no no-

No- this isn’t how it’s supposed to-

My throat burns.

When did he- when did you-

You’re going to say no, right?

I cant breathe.

You don’t like anyone- I know this

I know everything about you- I-

My chest hurts-

You’re mine.

And if he thinks I’ll share then I’ll-

“Mina stop being so loud please...” your delicate little voice whispered.

The rest of the table already took notice of what was going on- bombarding you with questions that made you flustered.

“Woah woah- Y/n, what’s your answer?” dunce face peeps out, Bakugou swore he could smack that grin off his face right then and there.

Katsuki turns to look at you again- a chill traveling down his spine once he made eye contact, but your stare quickly fell to the floor.

“I’m not sure yet- probably not.. ha.” You shrugged- a light pink dusting over your cheeks. The others, satisfied, dismiss the topic.

Had it have been anybody else observing, they wouldn’t have thought much of it. But Katsuki knows you like the back of his hand. Successfully deceiving him would be harder than taking down All For One.

You’re lying... aren’t you? In front of him too- All because of this quirkless fucking loser-

Katsuki hates lies.

.

.

.

I’m going to kill him.

-

The walk back to your dorm was disappointing to say the least. But you can’t expect someone to be in the best of moods when they’ve been stood up.

You almost couldn’t believe it either- he had seemed so kind and genuine that you stood there for an extra 2 hours. But that’s your luck with boys-

‘I hope you got a good laugh out of it, jerk.’ You huffed before inserting the key into your rooms lock.

Turning on the lights, you allow your eyes to adjust for a moment before stepping inside and walking to your desk.

“You were waiting for that jackass for so long I almost started thinking you would never come back...”

You let out a startled cry before dropping your keys and whirling around in a flash- recognizing Katsuki’s back as he slowly closes the door.

“Bakugou? Why are you-“

“was he really that special.”

“What do you mean was....“ It’s then you noticed the blood dripping down his arms and hands- your door decorated with the same shade of crimson.

“oh my god.. Bakugou,”

That’s why the poor boy never showed up.

You knew about Katsuki’s “little” crush on you for a while now. His stares weren’t exactly the most subtle after all-

You found his uncertainty adorable, heck, a part of you was waiting for him to confess. But you would have never imagined his infatuation went this far.

“It doesn’t matter anyway. He’ll never love you as much as I do.”

He lifts his head, and your eyes meet his. Bloodshot- as if he’d been crying, but the evident smirk on his face showed nothing but pure malice.

“Not that he’ll ever get the chance to anyways”

He’s too fast, too close to the door, he has all the advantage in this situation. But you have to try. You have to leave this room at this very moment or you may never make it out alive. There’s no reasoning with him.

You clutch your heart. He steps forward, and you instinctively bolt to the door.

A few easy moves and he has you pinned by the neck on the ground, legs bent and used to hold your arms from jerking too much. His free hand is outstretched, creating small explosions that made you automatically stiffen your movement.

“Bakugou please- I won’t ever tell anyone, we can forget about this and I’ll pretend it neve-“

“I don’t need you to be quiet. I’m the boy who rejected a direct offer from the League of Villains, one of the best students in U.A. high- even if you do rat me out, they’ll never believe you...”

His grip on your neck tightened- nails cutting through skin and little droplets of blood start showing up. His hand starts heating up and a panic courses through your veins.

“I’ll kill you before they even begin to suspect me.”

Choked sobs escape your lips from the pain and fear surging through your body- “I- I thought you said you lo-loved me.”

“I do... that’s why you’ll be mine forever.”

He leaned down, low enough for you to feel his warm breath- then used his tongue to sadistically lick off the tears running down your cheek, a salty but satisfying flavor entering his mouth.

“In this life, and the next. It’s up to you when we see the later.”

You nod, hoping he relaxes the pressure on your neck. His face softens, something you swore you would never see in Bakugou. He releases his hold.

“You made me mess up your neck, next time don’t be so mean.”

He tilted your chin up, observing the scratches and bruises littered all around it. As soon as he determines there’s no serious injury, he picks you up to lay you on your bed. Climbing in next to you and wrapping an arm around your hips.

“Couples cuddle like this all the time don’t they.”

You gave him silence, although he didn’t mind. With one glare he had you shuffling to move closer to his chest.

“they also kiss.”

You know that right now, there’s no point in fighting. So you give in to what he wants in hopes that one day, you’ll break free from the hold he secretly had on you for so long. You’ll play along. You’ll survive.

You shudder as his hands reach to cradle your cheek, wiping the blood of the boy all over it. He loved it. It proved he won. He gave a light kiss to your lips before attacking your neck, set on putting a new type of bruise on you.

“You should start calling me Katsuki.”

“Ka- Katsuki.” You barely managed to whimper out.

He caresses your hair, cooing soft whispers into your ear in an attempt to calm your sniffling. An action you would have seen as sweet if it weren’t for the constant threat of death over your shoulder.

Your breath hitches in horror as you feel his warm hands trail down your body, gripping your smooth inner thigh before delicately starting to drag his fingers up.

“You know...

You silently beg for him to stop.

“There’s one more thing couples do.”

-if anyone is interested- should I make a part 2? (Future edit, I’m not satisfied with this, I might end up rewriting in the future)

© 2021 k3lynn, do not modify or repost without permission