#double tap if u

[bonnibid]

too busy to draw today so here is a picture of my lovely cat penny everyone say hi penny

[heffrondriving]

❝ . . . Until he burp-asks her out. Or gives her a gift, which will be a frog. ❞

: ̗̀❥ KENLOS in S03E04: BIG TIME DOUBLE DATE

+ bonus lil gif bc it's too cute to not include ʕ⁠ ⁠ꈍ⁠ᴥ⁠ꈍ⁠ʔ~ 💚💙

[son1c]

FIBULA 1000 VOTES 🎉🎉🎉

[7roaches]

i think the fact that u cant press and hold a link on tumblr to see Options is a problem & i think also one theyve had over a decade to fix

[remodelling]

okay what weird british person told an american or something that they wash all their dishes in 1 bowl of soapy water that they don’t change and then don’t rinse the plates of the soap. bc this asshole has made too many people think that’s just the way we do it here. it’s not i promise

[goalieenjoyer]

ever since i made eye contact with c*usins at the boltz vs cats game he's haunted me so hes getting the next portrait so his ass can leave me alone so i hope this works

[isabelckl]

texting loser!ellie that you have n!pple piercing in class 4

nerdy loser!ellie x popular mean fem!reader

bored in english, you reply to a girl named E you’ve been talking to on an anonymous gay dating app—without knowing it’s that lesbian nerd girl, ellie williams.

masterlist

You were already home when you opened your conversation with her.

E:

i have to tell you something.

You frowned the second your eyes landed on it.

You were already curled into bed—fresh from the shower, hair damp against your neck, oversized shirt slouching soft over your thighs. The room was dim, lit only by the weak orange buzz of your fairy lights. That Friday exhaustion still clung to your bones, but none of it mattered.

You were settled. Cozy and warm in bed.

There was nothing better than the thought of spending the whole weekend like this—no plans, no noise. Just your room, your phone, and her.

Something about the message hit different. Not her usual caps-locked chaos or horny emoji spiral. It was plain and sharp. Hanging in the air like a loaded pause.

You stared at it longer than you meant to, thumb hovering.

You:

heyyyy

yeah?

what is it

You watched the read receipt appear, vanish, then return—followed by the word Typing, then nothing, then Typing again, like she was wrestling with whatever it was she couldn’t quite say.

E:

nevermind lol it’s dumb

just had a brain moment

u ever think a thing and go wait no i’m actually insane?

that was me. carry on.

You stared and your frown lingered.

There was something in it. Something unfinished, like she’d swallowed the thought halfway. It pressed at your chest—not hard, but enough to make you pause.

You let it sit there and tapped your thumb slow against the screen.

You:

don’t do that

if it mattered to you, it’s not dumb.

A beat and you double texted her.

You:

but fine. i’ll stop bugging

just tell me when ur ready

even if it’s weird

i like weird

E:

okay but what if it was like “i was possessed by a sexy ghost” weird

or “i’ve been thinking about ur mouth for 5 days straight” weird

bc that’s the category i’m working in rn

You snorted, the knot in your chest loosening instantly.

You:

girl what

E:

this is ur fault.

ur criminally hot and i’m emotionally unstable.

i almost sent u a poem today and had to physically restrain myself

You:

wait u wrote me a poem???

E:

no one’s ever gonna see it

unless i die then u can publish it posthumously

You rolled onto your side, laughing into your pillow, smiling so hard it made your face ache.

You:

SO how was ur day, poet

other than spiraling over my mouth

did the tragic lesbian survive algebra?

E:

barely

i almost died. they tried to silence me.

i doodled boobs on my notes again. staying humble.

You:

u say that like it’s a coping mechanism

E:

it is. ur boobs specifically

You snorted again, tension bleeding out of you with every stupid message that followed.

You:

do u miss them ??

should i send u some again so u can cope better?

E:

don’t tempt me rn i’m weak and unsupervised

You:

so that’s a yes

E:

that’s an always

You bit your lip, grinning into your pillow like an idiot.

She was back to herself—unhinged and dramatic, talking about how her math teacher was probably a demon who fed on the dreams of students. Complete with all-caps outbursts and at least two conspiracy theories. You kept laughing.

Eventually, your thumbs started to cramp.

You:

i swear my thumbs are buff now bc of u

E:

hot

You:

everything i say u turn into gay

E:

it's given

You bit your lip. Your heart thumped—stupid and full.

You didn’t ask again about the message. You didn’t have to. Whatever she’d meant to say, she clearly couldn’t yet.

You stayed texting until your phone went warm in your palm, until your eyes stung from staring at your phone too long. By the time you checked the clock, it was 3AM.

You didn’t mean to stay up that late, but that’s what always happened with her. The later it got, the more chaotic the messages became. If it wasn’t full-blown unhinged, it was weirdly horny. And if it wasn’t horny, it got accidentally deep—like two sleep-deprived idiots trying to figure out the meaning of life between memes and finger-smash typing.

You:

do u ever wonder what we’d be like if we met in real life?

or would we combust instantly?

You barely had time to brace for whatever ridiculous answer that would get when your phone buzzed again—this time from a different notification.

From Ellie.

You blinked at the name—Ellie, already saved in your phone—and still typed:

You:

who is this?

Ellie:

It’s Ellie. From school.

A faint smirk tugged at your lips.

You:

i know

Ellie:

Just wanted to let you know I’m starting the draft for our project. It’s nothing serious, just bullet points. I figured I’d organize ideas before Monday.

You stared at her message, already smiling, not even knowing why.

You:

you couldn’t tell me that earlier in class??

Ellie:

I didn’t think of it until now.

Also I'm still awake, so.

You:

why r u still up anyway ?

Ellie:

I wanted to be productive while the ideas were still fresh.

You snorted.

You:

nerd.

Ellie:

Sure.

You paused, going back at your other chat. E hadn’t replied yet. Your thumb hovered, tempted to double text.

But right before you did—

E:

sorry went blank for a sec i was picturing how u say my name in a whisper lol anyway what were we even talking about

You laughed out loud, the sound muffled into your pillow.

You:

do u want me dead

E:

yes but like sexily

Another buzz.

Ellie:

Let me know if you’d rather read the notes now or wait for Monday. Either way works.

You laid your phone on your chest for a second, staring at the ceiling. One of them wanted to die at your hands. The other was politely offering to share bullet points at 3AM.

And just like that—when you’re happy, when it’s fun—time moved stupidly fast.

The hallway pulsed with the usual Monday mess—shuffling sneakers, lockers clanging shut, someone already yelling, and of course, that one kid running like it’s a sport.

You felt obnoxiously good for a Monday. The kind of good that only came from two straight days of texting someone who made your brain feel like soda bubbles. You were still carrying a smile that hadn’t fully faded since 3AM.

You suddenly spotted Ellie standing at her locker, blue flannel shrugged over her usual black tee, one side of her hair still sleep-creased. Headphones rested around her neck. She looked a little worn—like sleep hadn’t been a priority. Like someone who’d stayed up too late doing something they didn’t regret.

You didn’t stop walking. You drifted right up beside her locker, leaned against the one next to it like you had all the time in the world.

She didn’t look at you at first—shifting her books with one hand, nudging her sketchpad into place. Her fingers lingered at the edge of a notebook. The one she said she started drafting in.

Finally, a glance. Quick and dry before she let out a heavy a sigh.

You smirked at her reaction, tilting your head like you were observing something mildly amusing.

“So,” you said. “How was your weekend?”

Ellie didn’t answer right away. She reached deeper into the locker like she was debating throwing herself inside it.

“Quiet,” she said without looking at you.

You raised your brows. “That’s it?”

She shoved a pencil case into her bag and shut the locker with a dull thud. “What do you want me to say? I spent it drafting our project.”

You leaned in slightly, voice lowering. “Mm. So productive.”

She rolled her eyes. “I can’t help it if you’re easily impressed.”

“Who said I was impressed?” you shot back, one brow raised. “I’m just asking.”

Ellie adjusted the strap of her guitar case on her shoulder, finally meeting your eyes. “Right. You’re just asking. Because you care deeply about how I spent my weekend.”

You shrugged, unfazed. “Maybe I do.”

That got you a blink. A pause. Her gaze flicked over your face—just for a second too long.

You smiled, all teeth.

“Wanna guess how I spent mine?”

Ellie didn’t say anything—she just glanced away, too fast to be casual.

You tapped the locker with your knuckles, straightened up slowly. “See you in class, Williams.”

And with that, you walked off and didn’t look back.

But if you had, you might’ve caught the exact moment Ellie muttered under her breath—barely audible over the hallway noise.

“Jesus Christ.”

You slipped into your usual seat, still warm from your walk through the halls and encounter with Ellie. One of your friends tossed a lazy “hey,” but you barely glanced up—already pulling your phone out, screen lighting up with that soft blue glow.

You:

wakey wakey

i’m already in class

don’t blame me again if you end up being late, poet

Your grin was immediate. You bit it back behind your palm, thumbs still hovering when someone cleared their throat right beside you.

You looked up.

Ellie.

You didn’t hide your expression—still smiling like a dumbass, phone in hand.

“Yeah?” you asked, one brow raised.

She was holding out the notebook. The one she told you about. She didn’t quite meet your eyes.

“Just—here,” she muttered, placing it down in front of you.

Your gaze dropped to the familiar cover, then back to her.

You smiled wider. “Thanks. I’ll look over it later.”

She nodded, quiet. “Cool.”

She turned without another word and made her way to her own seat. You tapped the corner of the notebook with your fingers, still smiling.

Your phone buzzed.

E:

why are u like this

i was gonna be late but now i’m getting up just to annoy u

also maybe to see what u look like in class all smug and pretty

You pressed your lips together, trying not to laugh.

You:

haha u wish

i wish u were my classmate for real tho

i can only think of many things 👀

E:

what things ??

You:

idk

maybe like… we’d be seatmates

and i wouldn’t wear any undies on purpose

Three dots appeared immediately. It vanished and came back again.

E:

ok well. i just flatlined in my desk chair.

thanks a lot

You:

just trying to motivate u to get to school on time

E:

I'M ALREADY AT SCHOOL BRUH

i am not responsible for the thoughts i’m having rn

You grinned, legs curled up in your chair, heart stupidly light.

You:

am i making u…?

right now?

Typing..

E:

ma’am this is a public institution

You:

answer the question :)

E:

let’s just say i’m sitting very still rn

and ur going to hell. congrats.

You bit back another grin so hard your cheeks hurt.

You:

worth it.

E:

i hate u

Your thumb hovered over the screen, still smiling like a complete idiot as the bell rang.

You:

ur really gonna hate me when i say

i’m not even wearing a bra rn

E:

YOU’RE A MENACE

i hope you’re proud of yourself for what you're doing to me

You:

just a little

E:

really huh

if i were ur seatmate

i’d sit too close

thighs touching, shoulder to shoulder

and i’d keep dropping my pen just to bend down and grab it

and yk

You:

AND I KNOW WHAT?

GO ON I BEG U

okay actually u don’t need to

because i already am..

E:

good.

that’s what you deserve.

you wanna play? let’s play.

You:

idc it was all worth it

every damn single time

Your phone buzzed again, and you bit back another grin.

E:

UR INSANE

You:

okay well tytl nerd

class starts

but thank u i guess for giving me something to think about while i touch myself tonight

or maybe right after this class ;)

The projector flickered to life, casting a soft blue wash across the room as your chemistry teacher launched into a barely-interested explanation about covalent bonds. His pointer smacked against the periodic table.

You weren’t paying attention.

Half the class had already mentally checked out, slumped behind their notebooks, faces lit faintly by hidden phones. You leaned back in your seat and slid Ellie’s notebook toward you.

At the top of the page, in painfully neat handwriting, was your dumb story idea—now fully structured like an actual outline. Titles. Bullet points. Narrative arcs. Ellie had taken your chaotic pitch last week and turned it into something real. Polished and thoughtful. Like she was submitting it to a literary journal instead of indulging your late-night ramblings about tragic childhood friends and unresolved feelings.

You blinked at it.

It was so sincere. So controlled and so much like Ellie. And of course, you ruined it immediately.

You clicked your pen and started scribbling into the margins, punching holes in her emotional realism with chaotic commentary and increasingly unhinged suggestions. You added scandal. Tension. Betrayal-by-juice-box. A questionable janitor closet moment. A rain scene. Then topped it off with a dramatic doodle of two stick figures making out under a thundercloud—complete with labeled outcomes depending on whether she or you won the creative direction.

You passed it across the aisle to a classmate with a muttered, “Can you pass this to Ellie?”

She opened it three seats over.

You caught the moment her eyes skimmed the page. The visible sigh. The way her pen was already uncapped before she finished exhaling.

The notebook came back a minute later—now thoroughly crammed with dry corrections, passive-aggressive arrows, and tiny-lettered threats. She rejected every one of your chaotic additions with the weary exhaustion of someone dealing with a very annoying co-writer.

One line, nearly hidden in the corner, was scribbled in all-caps like it needed to defend her honor: “I’M NOT A SOFTIE.” Clearly a direct response to the note you’d left in the margin—something obnoxious like “you’re such a softie for this” with an arrow pointing to her emotionally devastating third act.

Another promised to switch partners if you didn’t shut up.

You tried not to laugh, biting your lip hard to hold it in.

She was impossible.

You flipped to a new page and added one final scene heading—something ridiculous, something glitter-related—and underlined it like a challenge. The notebook was slid back to her again, silent this time.

You didn’t watch her read it, but you felt her reaction.

Ellie rubbed her temple like she regretted every life decision that had led her to this moment. Her fingers hovered over the notebook like she wasn’t sure if she should keep reading or toss it across the room. Eventually, she just shut it with a slow, existential sigh.

And then—she looked at you.

You met her gaze across the dim classroom, light from the projector flickering across her face. Her head tilted. Her mouth twitched like she was trying not to smile or something.

You tapped your nails lightly against the desk and raised a brow.

She shook her head—small and quiet, almost resigned—looking away like she couldn’t risk letting you see the smile tugging at her mouth.

Time blurred.

Class, lunch, class again—standard Monday drag. Nothing special. Just the usual shuffle between subjects and half-awake conversations that barely counted as human interaction.

Now, you were in the library for your last period. Final class of the day. The room was quiet in that stiff, almost sacred way libraries get—like if you breathed too loud, someone would smite you.

Ms. Alvarez, who walked in balancing a thick binder and a tired expression. She barely made it past the first five minutes before clearing her throat and announcing, “Alright, class. I have a faculty meeting in ten. You’re allowed to continue working on your project in pairs, but you must stay in the classroom or within school premises. No one leaves early. Understood?”

You were sitting across from Ellie. She was fully immersed in whatever she was typing on her laptop—jaw tight, brows drawn, fingers moving like she was coding national security protocols instead of organizing character arcs.

You tried to match her energy for a grand total of three minutes before your attention span gave out completely.

Your gaze dropped to the window. From the second-floor view, you could see a couple of students loitering around the quad, stretched out across benches and grass. Someone was dramatically eating a banana. You didn’t know why that annoyed you.

Without thinking, you reached for your phone.

Few unread messages.

E:

WHAT THE FUCK

IF UR GOING TO TELL ME SOMETHING LIKE THAT IN CLASS AT LEAST LET ME WATCH

FOR COMPENSATION

jk

but yes?

You bit your lip hard—so hard it almost hurt—not wanting to smile in front of Ellie. You slipped the phone away like it burned, then reached toward her side of the table.

She didn’t look up when you slid her notebook over, flipping straight to the page.

Possible Story Structure – v1.0

You stared at it for a beat. Then made a face.

“This is so boring,” you muttered.

Ellie kept typing. “Don’t start.”

“I’m serious. This is criminal. Look at this—no dramatic kisses? No one cries? This is actual villain behavior.”

“They’re just notes,” she said without looking up.

“They’re rules. And they suck.”

“They’re guidelines,” she corrected, finally glancing your way. “And they exist because someone—you—suggested glitter-induced closet sex as a turning point.”

You just rolled your eyes and jabbed your pen at the “Maybe a forehead touch??” line. “This. Right here. What is this. This is loser behavior.”

“It’s called restraint.”

You let out the fakest gasp imaginable. “Loser and pretentious.”

Ellie leaned back in her chair, folding her arms. “You want them crying in the rain after a juice box incident.”

“Because that’s real storytelling, Ellie.”

“You literally renamed the central conflict The Tragic Juice Box Betrayal of 7th Grade.”

“It was a betrayal. And it was orange. It stained. It’s metaphorical. You just don't understand.”

You were staring back at each other.

You leaned forward just a little. “Also, I know you already sketched the supply closet scene in the margin of your notebook.”

“That was a box,” she said flatly. “It was a literal box.”

“Sure,” you said, unconvinced.

Ellie pinched the bridge of her nose like she was trying to summon patience from another plane of existence.

“You’re impossible,” she muttered.

“You’re just repressed.”

She blinked. “Says the girl blushing at her phone two minutes ago.”

You froze.

Ellie tilted her head, a little too smug. “Hmm?”

You cleared your throat. “That’s classified.”

She smirked—barely. “Suspicious.”

Shaking your head, you slid the notebook back toward her. “Fix your outline before I submit a new draft with a title you won't really like.”

She rolled her eyes casually, shaking her head as she went back typing to her laptop.

You leaned back in your chair—annoyed, stretching a little before grabbing your phone again—this time not even pretending to be sneaky about it.

Ellie didn’t look up, but you could feel her noticing.

You opened your chat with E, thumb already moving.

You:

i’m literally sitting across from the most insufferable person alive

she’s so bossy and uptight and acts like she’s above dramatic plotlines

like okay sorry i want EMOTION in my fake scenarios??? sue me???

she actually said “restraint” like it was a flex. loser behavior actually.

You smirked, shot a glance up, then kept typing.

You:

also she keeps pretending she didn’t sketch the closet scene

it was OBVIOUSLY not just a box

You huffed quietly, shifting in your seat. Ellie was still typing—completely zoned in, not looking at you.

You looked back down at your screen.

You:

she’s doing that thing again

getting all serious like we’re submitting this to sundance

like relax. it’s two fictional lesbians and a tragic juice box. let me work.

You paused for a beat, then kept going.

You:

WHATEVER

idk. don’t wanna argue about it

i just wanna talk to you

remember what i said before about making out in the nonfiction aisle?

i’m here at the library ;)

i can imagine our kiss

HOT

i'll have you finger me 'till I cum and my legs shake

and we go back to class like nothing happened

You stared at the message for a second, then laughed under your breath and set your phone down on the table, face-down. You suddenly felt silly—teasing, sure, but also a little giddy. Like you were getting away with something. Especially with Ellie right in front of you, looking like the literal opposite of whatever that text had just suggested.

She was still focused. Her MacBook open, her hand flicking her pen across the margins of her notebook. The light hit her rings again. She was chewing her bottom lip.

You grabbed your pen and started doodling in the corner of your notes. Hearts, stars, little lesbian stick figures making out beside bookshelves.

Out of the corner of your eye, you caught something—Ellie’s posture had shifted. Her brow furrowed deeper, her eyes narrowed at the screen.

Then she bit her lip again, harder this time. Her hand came up, fingers scratching just above her eyebrow like she was trying to stay grounded. Her expression pinched for a second—like she was trying to keep her face neutral and failing.

You glanced out the window instead. Golden light, slow-moving clouds. You imagined E, imagined her standing on the other side of this table, all smirking confidence and chaos. You smiled to yourself, tapping your pen twice before reaching back for your phone.

Still no reply.

You frowned a little and refreshed the app. Still nothing.

Right then, Ellie stood up.

You looked up immediately. “Where are you going?”

She didn’t meet your eyes. Just grabbed the edge of her chair like she needed to move. “Getting a book,” she muttered, already walking.

You blinked, confused. “You already have like, four.”

She didn’t answer and just walked off. You watched her disappear down the aisle, your phone still in your hand. Still no message from E.

The empty screen felt louder than it should’ve.

A few minutes passed and Ellie didn’t come back.

You tapped your fingers once against the table and got up, quietly making your way until the nonfiction aisle, farthest row in the back, where no one really went.

You found her there, tucked at the very end of the aisle, half-hidden behind the shelves. She was leaning slightly against them, phone in hand, her eyes fixed on the screen—expression unreadable, but her ears flushed just a little too pink to ignore.

She didn’t notice you right away.

But the second she did, she quickly lowered her phone and reached for a nearby book, flipping it open like she’d been studying the whole time.

You raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything. Weird.

You glanced at the shelves around you, trying not to smile—because of course it had to be this aisle. The same one you’d texted E about, half-joking, half-not.

“What’s funny?” Ellie asked without looking up, now looking so serious.

“Nothing,” you said, too fast.

“Really?” Her tone was dry, eyes still on the page.

You grabbed a random book from the shelf and flipped it open. “I just remembered something.”

“Uh huh.” She said it flatly, like she didn’t buy it.

You sighed and rolled your eyes. But you didn’t answer her. You turned another page, pretending to read.

Ellie shifted beside you, thumbing through her own book.

“What are you even doing in the nonfiction aisle?” you asked, still not looking up. “It’s not like we’re writing nonfiction.”

She didn’t miss a beat. “Well, actually… sometimes good fiction pulls from nonfiction. Real stories. Background stuff. It makes things feel more grounded.”

You peeked over the edge of your book. “Okay, nerd.”

She shrugged. “Just saying.”

You didn’t respond, but your thoughts were anything but neutral.

Okay sorry I'm just here because I’ve been thinking about making out with someone against these shelves for three days straight.

You stared down at the page—something about memory and neural pathways—but none of it stuck.

Your mouth twitched into a grin again. E’s dumb chaotic message echoed in your head.

You couldn’t wait to talk to her again tonight.

You glanced up.

Ellie was still there, head tilted slightly, lips parted in concentration, bathed in soft afternoon light spilling through the high windows.

She looked unreal. Sharp in some ways. Gentle in others.

She wasn’t even trying. Her flannel sleeves were rolled up to her elbows, and her hair was half-messy like she’d forgotten to fix it after leaning against her hand too long. A strand curled near her cheek. Her rings caught the light again when she shifted the book. And her mouth—soft, slightly parted as she read—moved just a little when she wet her lips without thinking.

“Actually…” you started, voice light. “Can I ask you something?”

Ellie didn’t look up. “What?”

You waited a beat. “Have you ever thought about making out with someone in the library?”

That got her attention.

Her head lifted slowly, like she wasn’t sure she heard you right. “What?”

You grinned, tilting your head. “I mean—have you ever thought about it? Like. Right here. This exact aisle.”

Ellie blinked once. “Do you mean making out with someone who’s… here in the library?”

Her voice had a weird edge. Something unreadable.

You scoffed, playful. “No. Just—like. Making out with someone in a library. Someone you like. A girl or whatever.”

She blinked again. Then scoffed lightly like you’re ridiculous.

“No.”

You frowned. “Why not?”

She leaned her shoulder against the shelf. “Why would I make out with someone here?” she said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “It’s the library.”

You rolled your eyes. “Okay, well—where would you bring them if you wanted to make out with them?”

That made her pause.

You watched her carefully.

She stared at you, then down at the book in your hands.

“You’re impossible,” she muttered.

You grinned. “That’s not an answer.”

She sighed and turned the page, trying to ignore you. “Not everyone makes out in public places, you know.”

“Yeah,” you said, shutting your book and letting it hang at your side. “But it’s fun to think about.”

She looked at you again.

“And you think about it a lot?” she asked, voice casual—but not quite.

“Yeah.” You shrugged. “I do.” You added, a smirk playing in your lips.

Ellie exhaled slowly, her eyes flicking up to your face, lingering. You could almost feel her gaze pause on your mouth for a second too long.

Then she shook her head, barely, like she was trying to snap herself out of it.

Without another word, she turned and walked off, heading back toward your table with quick, quiet steps—like she needed to leave before she did something she’d regret.

tag list:

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[abyssyby]

welded by water

— you take the time to explore the base he offers you as your home, wandering through countless doors. but your favorite will always be the one that leads to him.

ʕ ꈍᴥꈍʔ: OR SYLUS SWIMMING IN A POOL 😩 sylus’s birthday is in 3 days & i’m unwell ヽ(°〇°)ﾉ he’s gonna be celebrated for the first time and my heart bleeds i love him sm. anyway! this idea was born out of that one ingredient story where he pulls u in the pool I SCREAMED its so romantic & thinking abt sylus in a private pool changed my life 😵‍💫 i hope you enjoy!! ❀-urs

sylus x reader | fluff, romantic tension, smoochie kisses, sylus in a swimming pool hehehe

tw: suggestive touches, very brief description of drowning

You knew the base was big. You barely found your way around to the training room, feeling as if the halls shift and shuffle like an enchanted maze. Usually, Sylus would show you around— lead you by the elbow pushing forward, clasp your hands together to pull you to a secret garden, hike you up his hips and carry you to his bedroom. 

But today you decided exploring would be a good thing. Equipped with Mephisto on your shoulder (a ceasefire between you two today), you walk down the dim crossroads and forks of the building with confidence. 

You’d asked permission before, to walk around and open doors. Sylus merely hummed, lips pressed to your shoulder, saying, “Everything I own is yours.”

You didn’t take that lightly. You refused— tried to— but you knew he was certain. Every word uttered from his lips weighs like a stone in water. You knew, in your heart, he would claim the world and say that all he has conquered is yours to take and use according to your will. 

So here you are, assuming responsibility. Knowing the kingdom where you lay claim. With your phone on the notes app open, you tap tap tap away at directions and take stock of the rooms there are in his— your home.

It’s fun to discover to an extent. Although, when all Mephisto can give you is a head nuzzle and a squawk, you quickly lose interest by the fourth armory. Light fingers trace a line down from the bird’s head to his beak, “Where’s Sylus?” 

Mephisto shakes, his metallic feathers fluttering like real ones except they sound like windchimes— extremely thin iron tendrils clinking against each other like rain. One of your many favorite things about him.

The bird takes off to fulfill your request. This time, he waits for you to keep up. He leads you past an artificial greenhouse, another showcase room displaying his many gem collections, the boxing gym and then…

Mephisto perches himself on the top of the doorway of two double doors. If you’re correct, you should be west of the house. Maybe a wall of the whole structure. Beyond the threshold could be taller windows and maybe the sky. Maybe a telescope. With all the things you’ve seen, an observatory wouldn’t be surprising.

“Bet you three nut-bolts it’s an observatory.” you say and lean your weight into your shoulder against the door. “Though, I never thought him to be interested in astrono…” 

The words fizzle and die on your lips as you’re kissed by a faint blast of moisture and the sound of splashing echoing loud through the hall. Your gaze is drawn upwards at the high ceiling reverberating the sound, and then across the molded crowns of the walls. You follow the pattern, bewildered gaze racing down the curves of the large french windows. The stars— no, the galaxies, splattered like paint onto glass. The moon shines through the glass, and reflects unto the rippling water of the swimming pool. 

The pool where Sylus swam with refined grace. Running through laps with no signs of tiring. Breaking the surface of the water for breath, and then going back under to pop up again on the other end.

You’re too engrossed by the look of it all— how a room with a pool can rival the size of a library, can also feel like an observatory. You file your initial guess as a win at that.

Carefully, you step inside. Almost as if afraid to disrupt the sanctity of it all. But you push forward, into the candle-like glow of the lamps around the pool.

You make your way to the edge, sit cross legged and watch him swim. Up and down. Fast, faster. Silently and then with more force. A faint beeping signals his stop, and he emerges from the water like a god that commands the seas. The moonlight shines on his hair and transforms it into liquid silver melting over his eyes. 

Warm and cool reflect of the wet planes of his body, creating an ethereal illusion glimmering an otherworldly glow. 

And his eyes, so dark and yet brighter than a dying sun, find you. Hold you captive in their focus. Your stomach caves and your chest burns at his perception. 

The little jolt he gets in his chest whenever he finds you staring at him like that never fails to fluster him. What a gift to see you in general, but he cannot deny that he loves when you seek him out. When you emerge from your world and join him in his. When he finds you sitting there, staring, waiting for him. 

He swims from the other edge of the pool towards you. A swan through the water with practiced grace. And when he reaches your dry little island, he pulls himself up by his forearms to greet you. “Done exploring, sweetie?” 

You swallow. Happy he is here, but you often tend to forget how he looks beneath all his designer refinery and comfy, steal-able clothes. Strangled, an “mhm” manages to wriggle its way out your throat. 

“Cat got your tongue?” he smirks, catching the way your pupils scramble down so quickly and clumsily over his body. Beneath his cool exterior, his heart spasms with endearment. “Kitten?” 

And he’s back— love of your life, most annoying man on the planet. Stupid, cocky look dripping along with the droplets of his face as he challenges you. You dig through your pocket and find a coin. 

Swift and easy, you toss it into the pool. It plops and leaves ripples right by his hip. A beat, and then he tilts his head at you in confusion. “Made a wish?” 

“Enriching this pool.” you explain. “It lacks gold, and I’ve always seen you as someone who should be swimming in it.” 

“Is that a compliment?”

“Don’t take it then.” you huff.

He chuckles, turning your upturned nose back towards him with wet fingers, making you scowl. He grins wider, “No, no. it’s just… not enough.”

Your eyes widen. “Oh. I’m sorry, would you like me to throw in a hundred in there?” 

He snorts. “Sweetheart, you can do better than that.”

“Your black card drowns then.”

He laughs, whole and soulful. And it echoes through the hall as this beautiful symphony. “None of that is enough to enrich the pool.” 

“Calling yourself broke isn’t as humbling as you think.”

“Darling.”

“What?”

“Hold your nose.” splash! In a single movement, he’s grasped your hand and pulled you into the water. Your arms flail, but his touch never leaves you as he hauls his soaked little dragon li up to the surface.

“Sylus!” you screech, finding his shoulders and pulling yourself flush against him for leverage. You didn’t expect it to be that deep. His arms wrap around you tightly as he chuckles. 

Truly, how delightful is your misery.

“Now it’s enriched.” he says slowly. Glancing down at your downturned lips and your angry brow. A request you recognize and melts you right away.

Your distance makes it easier to curl your fingers on the nape of his neck and tug his lips to yours in a slow, languid kiss. 

You breathe, “How’d you know my wish?”

He grins, pressing one, two, three kisses to your lips in rapid successions. He has no answer, but he lets you know that he wished for it too. 

You’re pulled further into the pool, his movements smooth and unhurried as he kisses you again. A man starved. The first drop of water in the desert. 

You cling tighter, worried when your feet can’t find the ground. But he guides your thigh up and taps the back of your knee so you wrap your legs around his waist. 

“Sweetie.” he murmurs, motions taking pause. He delights in the way you push more, chasing his halted kisses with your soft lips. “Mm, beloved.”

“Yes?” you almost whine, irked by the interruption. Every fiber of his soul frays and blows into the wind at the sound anyway.

“Look.” he says, only because he knows you’ll love it. Gentle fingers wrap around your chin, turning your head towards the length of the pool. With your stillness, the water follows suit, and reveals an endless mirror for the endless sky. 

“Oh,” your lips part, your eyes widen, and you get the urge to cling onto Sylus’s strong shoulders a little more. You press your cheek to his to marvel at the beauty he beholds you.

The flecks of lights dance on the warbling glass you swim in, the lunar touch transmutes the water into silk. The sky is on your body and both are doused in starlight. 

“Beautiful.” you breathe, touching the silver surface carefully, watching the tiniest waves disturb the image. 

“Yes.” he says, but his fingers find your cheek. And his eyes have never left your face, waiting and watching for this reaction exactly. Delighting in the cosmos as well— on your skin, in your eyes. He thinks: Gorgeous. Ethereal. Divine.

All mine. 

You turn to see his drunken gaze at you and smile at the implication of his words. Noses brush and kisses resume. 

“I think this is my favorite room.” you say, but your head is filled with him who holds you in his space.  

His amusement takes form in a laugh, low and suave. “Yeah?” 

You hum. Brush his hair back— bundles of moonlight slipping through your fingers— plant your palms on his chest, and lean your forehead on his. 

His warm hands travel up your back, pushing you impossibly closer to his warmth. Until you’re welded by the sparks of light in the sky. Until you meld together in a warm loving tangle of limbs and breath. He says, “It’s all yours.”

But amongst all the wealth, the treasures and the rooms he chooses to share with you, he is the only one you truly desire. Him, and your soul asks nothing more. 

𓇢𓆸 𓇢𓆸 𓇢𓆸 ࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ

⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆ more sylus thoughts ⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆

thank you for reading!

[immaqulate]

stuffed full, sweetheart | m.s & c.s

— chratt x fem! reader

— warnings: filthy SMUT, unprotected sex (wrap b4 u tap guys) first orgasm/multiple orgasms, oral (f receiving), fingering, first time riding, overstimulation, double penetration (vaginal + anal), double creampie, lots of moaning and praising, soft degradation/pet names, aftercare, 2nd person pov, READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!

You’ve never come before—until they teach you how. Chris makes you fall apart with his mouth, Matt guides you through your first time riding, and just when you think you’ve had enough… Chris slides in behind you. You take both of them—slow, overwhelming, perfect—until they fill you to the brim and leave you trembling, crying, and wrecked in the best way.

part 2 of we'll show you, baby | word count: 1.7k | dividers by @dollywons

Your breath’s still uneven.

Your legs won’t stop shaking. You’re sunk deep into the couch cushions, skin flushed and slick with sweat, thighs glistening from what Matt just pulled out of you.

He looks wrecked—chin wet, lips kiss-bitten, sitting back on his heels like he just found God between your legs.

Chris brushes your hair back, his voice gentle. “You’re okay?”

You nod, dazed. “That was… fuck.”

Matt chuckles darkly. “Yeah, that was one.”

Your eyes widen, and Chris—sweet, warm, reliable Chris—presses a soft kiss to your shoulder.

“You didn’t think we were done, did you?”

His voice lowers.

“We’ve waited too long for this.”

Before you can even form a response, he’s shifting down the couch—between your legs now—gently nudging Matt aside with a smirk.

Matt doesn’t argue. He leans back against the armrest, wiping his mouth and watching intently, hand already palming the bulge in his sweats.

Chris slides his palms up your thighs. Slowly.. Reverently.

“You’re so beautiful like this,” he murmurs, eyes heavy. “All soft and messy. Like you were made for this.”

You shiver, his thumbs brush your folds—already puffy and sensitive—and you twitch. It’s almost too much. But Chris sees that.

He kisses your inner thigh. “I won’t hurt you, baby. Just wanna feel you.”

His hand settles on your belly while the other moves lower. Two fingers stroke gently over your entrance—still wet, still aching—and he lets out a soft groan.

“So warm,” he breathes. “So fucking perfect.”

He leans in. And fuck—his tongue is so different from Matt’s.

Where Matt devoured you like a challenge, Chris kisses your pussy like it’s sacred. His tongue is slow, precise, worshipful.

He licks you soft and deep, tongue dipping inside you with lazy strokes before flicking up to your clit. Your hips lift on instinct.

“Easy,” he murmurs against you, holding you down with one arm hooked around your thigh. “I’ve got you.”

Matt’s still watching. Still stroking himself through his pants, gaze locked on your body as it trembles under Chris’s mouth.

“You gonna come for him too, baby?” Matt purrs, voice rough. “Let Chris ruin you this time?”

Chris adds his fingers—so slow—curling deep inside you while his tongue circles your clit, coaxing. You can’t breathe.

“C’mon, sweet girl,” he whispers. “Don’t fight it. Let us have it again.”

Your hands claw at the cushions. Your hips buck. That pressure is back—hot and quick and too soon.

“Chris—please—” you whimper, high-pitched. “It’s too much…”

“No it’s not,” he soothes. “You can take it. You need it.”

He picks up the pace.

Fingers pumping, tongue flicking harder. Your thighs clamp around his head and he just moans, loving it.

Matt’s voice behind you—cocky and low:

“Look at you. Fuck, you’re soaking his face. You gonna come again, sweetheart? Gonna let go for him like you did for me?”

Your vision blurs, the heat rises so fast it’s terrifying. Chris’s fingers hit that spot inside you that makes your back arch off the couch, and then—

“That’s it,” he growls. “Come for me, baby. Come now.”

And you do. Again.

Harder this time. Your cry rips through the room as your entire body convulses—clenching, pulsing, riding wave after wave of pleasure that makes your head spin and your legs lock.

Chris doesn’t stop until you’re whimpering, your hand pushing weakly at his shoulder. When he finally pulls back, he looks up at you with that boyish grin, lips shiny and proud.

“Taste of heaven,” he murmurs, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

Matt whistles low. “You good, baby?” You nod, barely able to speak.

Chris pulls you gently into his lap, cradling you with strong arms, whispering sweet praises while Matt strokes your cheek.

“We’re so proud of you,” Chris whispers.

“Took us like a champ,” Matt adds, kissing your shoulder. “But uh…”

You glance up, dazed.

“I’m still hard as fuck,” he smirks. “And you’ve got one more lesson left, don’t you?”

Chris laughs softly, pressing a kiss to your lips.

“We’ll go slow,” he promises. “We’ll teach you how good it feels to be fucked properly next.”

You gulp. “You ready?”

Your legs are still trembling when Chris kisses your neck and murmurs against your skin:

“Wanna feel him, baby?”

Matt’s already sitting back on the couch, cock hard and twitching again, a smug smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“C’mon,” he says, voice wrecked. “Come ride me. We’ll go slow.”

Your thighs ache from earlier, but the ache between them is louder—needy, pulsing, open. You crawl over Matt’s lap, Chris steadying you from behind, and line yourself up.

The head of his cock nudges your entrance. You sink down slowly—so slowly—every inch of him stretching you, filling you, and he groans deep in his chest.

“Fuck—baby, you’re so tight.”

Your breath catches. He’s thick. Deep. The stretch is delicious, burning in the best way, and Chris is whispering in your ear the entire time.

“That’s it. Just like that. Take your time. Let him feel how perfect your pussy is.”

You bottom out, seated on him fully, thighs pressed against his. Your head falls back with a gasp.

“Feels—so full.”

Matt’s eyes roll back. His hands grip your hips, holding you down.

“You were made for this. For me.”

You start to move—tentative little rolls of your hips—and Matt loses it. Moaning. Bucking. Telling you how good you look, how hot your pussy feels, how he’s going to cum already if you keep clenching like that.

Chris kisses your shoulder. His hand trails down your back, then between your cheeks, thumb brushing over your other hole. You tense.

“You okay?” he whispers.

You nod. Barely.

“Ever done this before?”

“No.”

“Wanna try?”

You pause. Your body’s buzzing—your mouth dry—but when you glance back at him, wide-eyed and desperate, you whisper:

“Yes. Please.”

Chris moans. “Good girl.”

He slicks you up first—fingers teasing, stretching, slow and generous with the lube he gets from somewhere you don’t even see. He doesn’t rush.

He just circles, presses, lets your body open for him little by little while Matt kisses your chest, tells you how unreal you feel with his cock buried deep inside you.

Then—gently—Chris starts to push in.

“Deep breath,” he whispers. “You’re doing so good.”

The stretch is overwhelming. Too much. Not enough. Perfect. You gasp as the pressure builds—tight, tight, then suddenly full.

Chris groans behind you, his chest pressed to your back, one arm wrapped around your waist, the other under your chest, holding you still.

Matt is whimpering beneath you, staring up at you like he’s never seen anything so beautiful.

“Holy fuck,” he pants. “You’ve got both of us—inside you.”

“You’re doing so good, baby,” Chris murmurs, kissing the side of your neck. “So fucking good.”

They start to move—slow at first. Taking turns. Letting you adjust. But your body responds fast—so fast. Your moans are wrecked. Your legs are shaking. Your hands clutch at Matt’s shoulders like he’s your lifeline.

“You feel that?” Matt growls. “Feel us both fucking you? So full, baby. You were made for this.”

Chris thrusts shallow and deep—each press pushing Matt’s cock even deeper—and soon they’re both fucking you. One from beneath, one from behind. Perfect rhythm. Perfect pressure. Perfect stretch.

You’re gasping, sobbing, your body pulsing around them like it’s too much and still not enough.

“Can’t—can’t—” you cry out.

“Yes, you can,” Chris groans. “You’re taking us so well. Such a good girl.”

“You’re ours,” Matt pants. “Fucking ours.”

And then you shatter.

The orgasm hits you like a goddamn bomb. You scream—full-body—as your muscles seize, your pussy clenches around them both, and you swear your soul leaves your body.

They don’t stop. Chris grips your hips harder, buries himself deep, and growls in your ear:

“Gonna fill you up, baby. Gonna cum so deep it won’t stop leaking out.”

Matt’s jaw clenches as he bucks up once, twice—

“Take it. Take all of it—fuck—I’m gonna—”

And then they both spill inside you.

Warm. Hot. Endless. You feel it flood your insides, dripping down your thighs, leaking around their cocks while you tremble in their arms, utterly destroyed.  You collapse against Matt’s chest, Chris still pressed to your back. No one moves for a long time.

Chris kisses your shoulder. Matt strokes your hair.

“You okay?”

“That was…”

“Yeah, baby. It was.”

They slowly pull out—so much cum follows—and both of them moan at the sight.

“Fucking wrecked,” Matt whispers.

“She’s perfect,” Chris adds. “And ours.”

You fall back onto their chests—full, glowing, undone. And even as the cum leaks down your thighs…

You already know you’ll ask for more tomorrow.

Your chest rises in ragged, shallow gasps.

You’re heaving, your head lolling to the side, pressed between them. Matt’s arms wrap around your waist. Chris is at your side, gently stroking your trembling thighs. You don’t even realize you’re crying until Chris brushes your cheeks with his thumbs, whispering:

“Too much, baby?”

You nod. Then shake your head. You don’t even know what you feel. You just feel… everything.

Your body’s still clenching, twitching, fluttering from the aftershocks. And between your thighs, you feel it—warmth slipping out, thick and wet, pooling under you.

Chris presses a kiss to your temple. “You took us so well.”

Matt kisses your shoulder. “So fucking good for us.”

Your voice is barely a rasp. “I—I can’t feel my legs.”

Matt grins, hands still wrapped around your waist.

“Good.”

You let out a broken, breathless laugh. Your chest is still rising and falling—heaving as you try to get air back into your lungs.

Chris slides his hand down and cups your pussy gently. His fingers come back wet—their cum mixed, dripping, glistening on his skin.

“Look at that,” he murmurs. “Fucking dripping with us.”

You moan weakly, twitching as he gently presses a kiss to your spine.

“We’ll clean you up, baby,” Matt says softly. “Then get you water. A snack. Cuddle you like a princess.”

Chris adds, with a smirk:

“…and maybe ruin you all over again in the shower.”

You just whimper.

And they kiss your cheeks, and stroke your back, and hold you together while your body trembles from the best thing you’ve ever experienced.

this just might be the longest and filthiest smut i've ever written.. oopsies? 🫣

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[ari-ana-bel-la]

I loved ur Charles!dad and teen daughter sm can u do one where he takes her to the paddock and she gets lost and helped around by the other drivers xx

Lost and found

The car ride to the circuit was filled with the soft hum of the engine and the distant buzz of the fans already gathering outside. Yn sat in the passenger seat, her phone in her hands, fingers scrolling through social media while her dad drove with practiced ease.

“Yn,” he called, glancing at her from the corner of his eye. “Stay close to me today, okay? It’s going to be really crowded. I don’t want anything to happen to you, and if something does, your mother will kill me.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Yn mumbled, not really paying attention as she double-tapped a picture.

“I mean it,” her dad pressed, his voice firm but warm. “Stay close. Promise me.”

“I promise,” she said absentmindedly, her eyes still fixed on her screen.

When they arrived at the paddock, the sheer volume of people was overwhelming. Fans, media, team members—all swarming through the narrow pathways, voices mixing together in a loud, chaotic symphony. The moment Yn stepped out of the car, the sound engulfed her.

She followed her dad as he walked toward the entrance, waving at a few familiar faces. He kept glancing back to make sure she was following, but Yn barely noticed. Her phone buzzed with messages from friends asking for pictures and updates, and she got distracted answering them.

A few steps later, when she finally lifted her head, the crowd seemed to have grown thicker. People pressed around her, conversations and laughter filling the air. Panic prickled at her chest as she realized her dad was nowhere in sight.

“Dad?” she called out, her voice swallowed by the noise.

No answer. Her heart started to race as she stood still, trying to catch a glimpse of his familiar figure in the sea of faces. Nothing. Everyone was taller than her, making it nearly impossible to see beyond the immediate bustle.

“Okay, stay calm,” she whispered to herself, gripping her phone tighter. “He can’t be far.”

“Yn?” a familiar voice called, cutting through her rising panic. She turned around to see her Uncle Carlos and Uncle Lando approaching, both wearing their team polos and matching concerned expressions.

“What are you doing here by yourself?” Lando asked, eyes scanning the crowd around them.

Relief washed over Yn like a wave, and she let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. “I was with Dad, but I looked at my phone for, like, a second, and now he’s gone,” she admitted sheepishly.

Carlos chuckled softly. “A second, huh? You sound just like him.”

“Come on,” Lando said, slinging an arm around her shoulders. “We’ll help you find him before he has a heart attack.”

As they made their way through the paddock, Carlos and Lando kept her close, exchanging light banter to ease her nerves.

“So,” Lando teased, “how many selfies have you taken already today?”

Yn rolled her eyes. “I’m not that obsessed.”

Carlos grinned. “I bet your dad would disagree.”

They turned a corner and nearly bumped into Pierre, who was sipping a coffee and looking far too relaxed for the chaos around him.

“Why do you have a lost child?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“She lost her dad,” Carlos explained, biting back a smile.

“I did not lose him,” Yn protested. “He disappeared.”

Pierre chuckled, tipping his coffee cup toward her. “Sounds like you. Come on, I’ll join the rescue mission.”

With their little group now four strong, they continued toward the Ferrari garage. As they approached, the bright red of the garage felt like a beacon of hope. Just outside, Lewis was stepping inside, his calm demeanor as unwavering as always.

When he spotted Yn, his face softened into a warm smile. “There you are,” he said, opening his arms without hesitation.

Yn didn’t think twice before stepping into the comforting hug. “Hi, Lewis,” she mumbled against his chest.

“Let’s get you back to your dad before he loses his mind,” Lewis said gently, leading her inside while the others hung back with knowing grins.

The moment they entered the driver’s room, Yn saw her dad pacing back and forth, running a hand through his already messy hair. His head snapped up when the door opened, and his face went from stressed to relieved in a heartbeat.

“Dad!” Yn called, rushing into his arms.

He caught her, wrapping her tightly against him. Neither of them spoke for a long moment, just holding on as if they were afraid to let go.

“I was so worried,” he murmured into her hair, his voice slightly shaky. “You promised to stay close.”

“I know. I’m sorry,” Yn whispered. “But I’m okay now.”

They stayed like that, wrapped in each other’s embrace, until her dad finally exhaled a deep breath and leaned back to look at her. “We are never telling your mother about this,” he said firmly.

Yn laughed softly, nodding in agreement. “Never.”

Lewis, leaning against the wall with a fond smile, cleared his throat. “Glad we found her in time. Otherwise, I think we’d all be in trouble.”

“You have no idea,” her dad muttered, but his grip on Yn didn’t loosen one bit.

Yn felt safe in her dad’s arms, and even though the paddock was still loud and chaotic outside, everything felt right again in that small room filled with the people who cared about her the most.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♥︎♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Authors Note: Hey loves. I hope you enjoy this story as much as I do. My requests are always open for you.

-💙🦋

[hoshifighting]

Two words. Dilf Cheol. (I am on the brink of insanity thank yewww)

dilf!seungcheol

WARNINGS: smut, fluff, crying, marriage, his kid loves u, shy dilf!seungcheol at the beginning.

oh man, dilf!seungcheol though? i think about it every single day, i swear. and yeah, it all starts with that awkward-ass moment at the café. he’s standing there all buff and shy, trying to work up the nerve to ask for your number, his daughter hanging onto his leg like she’s his bodyguard. her big, curious eyes peeking out at you while he stumbles over his words. “uh… I just… I thought maybe you’d… uh,” seungcheol scratches the back of his neck, all nervous—like he isn’t the size of a tank. “you know, if you’re not busy… you could give me your insta?” he’s waiting for you to laugh at him, probably thinks he’s gonna get rejected because, you know, he’s got a kid and all. like that makes him less attractive or something. but you’re all heart-eyes the second his little girl pipes up with, “daddy thinks you’re pretty.”

dude nearly dies on the spot. he’s so red, you could probably cook an egg on his cheeks. but you just crouch down to her level, giving her the same sweet smile you flashed at the waitress earlier, and say, “well, I think your dad’s really handsome, too.”

game over. you’ve got him hooked, right there.

from then on, you’re texting nonstop. it’s almost like a high school crush thing, except the guy’s a full-grown dad who still somehow makes your stomach flip like you’re sixteen again. his insta’s basically a whole love letter to his daughter, like, every other post is her: her in some princess costume, her making pancakes (or trying to), her at the park with him, her with his dog. sometimes, you’ll scroll through his feed just to see him smile because, damn, it’s so rare he smiles like that anywhere else.

but then there’s the gym photos. god, those gym photos. all sweaty and pumped up, and you swear he’s showing off just a bit for you now that he knows you’re watching. his arms look like they could crush you, but the way he talks? it’s like he’s this big ol’ teddy bear wrapped in all that muscle.

“you eat today?” he texts you at like, 2 p.m., no greeting or anything.

you text back, “noo :(( too busy.”

not even a minute later, you get a notification from some food delivery app—he’s already sent something to your place. he’s like that. doesn’t even ask, just takes care of it. if it’s cold out, he’s dropping off a coat. if it rains, a brand new umbrella’s somehow at your work's door.

one night, you're scrolling through insta, and there’s this photo of him at some fancy work event, all dressed up in a suit and tie. goddamn, you think, biting your lip, because who knew seungcheol could clean up like that? the suit hugs every muscle, and it’s wild how he can look that good in anything from sweats to formalwear. you double-tap, and not two minutes later, he’s texting you.

“you like that one?”

you don’t even bother playing coy. “nah, I loved that one.”

there’s a pause, and you can almost picture him blushing on the other end, even though you’re the one getting all flustered.

“well, maybe you’ll get to see it in person soon,” he shoots back, and there’s a teasing edge to it, the same one that’s been driving you absolutely crazy since you started talking.

you roll your eyes, but your heart’s doing that dumb fluttery thing again. “maybe,” you reply, playing along.

and it’s like, you’re not even sure how this all happened so fast, but seungcheol? he’s always making sure you’re good, like his whole day revolves around making you smile, checking in, making sure you're eating, keeping warm. it’s low-key intense but in the best way possible.

and somehow, between all the little text convos and the insta stalking, you’ve found yourself seriously catching feelings for this dad with the cutest kid, the sweetest heart, and a whole-ass gym routine that’s absolutely unfair.

and you wonder: how the hell did you get this lucky?

seungcheol's always been like that—taking care of you like it’s second nature, probably because he’s used to being in dad-mode 24/7. you kinda feel spoiled, in the best way possible. he’s always looking out for you. it’s not that he’s overbearing; it’s just that this is how he shows he cares. but you know it goes both ways.

so one day, you decide to return the favor. you find this pink polo, something that screams him but in the softest, most endearing way. you know his daughter will love it too, ‘cause she’s all about pink and matching with her dad. you send it to him without saying much, just a little note saying, “thought this would look good on you.” the next time you see him, he's wearing it, and yeah, the shirt hugs his body perfectly. he’s acting like it’s no big deal, but you catch the way he blushes when you compliment him. “didn’t have to do all that,” he mutters, rubbing the back of his neck, but his eyes are softer than usual, that little glint of he’s falling harder than he planned.

but what really seals the deal is how u handle his daughter. every time you two try to plan a date, something comes up—his mom’s busy, or the babysitter falls through, and suddenly, the whole night’s flipped. instead of a fancy dinner, you’re headed to the park or some kid-friendly café, making sure his little girl has fun. and somehow, you end up having more fun on those “ruined” dates, watching seungcheol let loose, running around with his kid while you cheer them on. it’s like you get him, get his life, and he’s not used to that.

and then, finally, one night, the stars align. his mom takes the kid for the weekend, and it’s just you and him. alone.

and oh god, does he reward you.

he’s been holding back for weeks—months even. all that pent-up frustration, that tension from constantly having to play the responsible dad while trying to not let himself get too attached to you, it all comes crashing down.

he’s rough, no question about it. but it’s the kind of rough that makes your whole body sing. his hands are everywhere, grabbing, holding, pressing you up against walls and furniture like he’s desperate to feel every inch of you at once. he’s strong, and he knows it, lifting you like you weigh nothing, carrying you from one spot to the next without breaking a sweat.

the first time, it’s almost frantic. he’s pounding into you like he’s afraid the moment’s gonna slip through his fingers, grunting into your ear, his breath hot and uneven against your skin. your legs wrap around him, but you can hardly hold on—he’s relentless, hitting that spot over and over until you’re crying out, body shaking violently.

you don’t even realize your legs are spasming until hours later, when you try to stand and nearly collapse from how shaky you are. but seungcheol’s not done. oh no. he’s far from done.

before you can even catch your breath, he’s down between your legs, eating you out like a man famished. this time, it’s slower his tongue doing things that make you arch off the bed, hands fisting in his hair as he drags you to the edge again, then pulls you back just to do it all over. every time you think you’re about to lose it, he eases up, grinning against your skin like he knows exactly what he’s doing.

and yeah, maybe it’s been ages for him, but fuck, the man knows how to destroy you. by the time he’s done, you’re a complete mess, legs trembling, heart flying from your chest, your body so sensitive that even the thought of him touching you again makes you shudder.

seungcheol though, he’s the type to take his time. slow and unshakable, like he’s gotta be absolutely sure before he makes any big moves. but with you? he’s struggling. there’s this itch under his skin, this need to lock it down, put a ring on your finger, make it official. and yeah, he’d never say it out loud, not yet. he’s got too much pride to come off that desperate. but every time he watches you with his daughter, every time she calls you her “best friend” or shows you the drawing she made of you three as a family, he’s fighting the urge to drop down on one knee and ask you to make it real.

he hides it well, though, keeps up the usual routine. he keeps taking you out on dates, some with his little girl tagging along, others just the two of you. and he’s always scolding you whenever you show up with yet another gift for her.

“y/n, you’ve gotta stop,” he groans, shaking his head as you hand his daughter a set of pink hair clips that match her favorite doll. “she’s gonna expect something every week at this point.”

but there’s that soft look in his eyes, the one that betrays how much he loves seeing you spoil his kid. he’ll roll his eyes, but you notice how he always says “my girls” now, so casually like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

you and her. his girls.

one day, he takes you to her father’s day presentation at school. you’re not sure who’s more nervous, seungcheol or his daughter. but when she walks on stage in her tiny tutu, all giggles and shy smiles, it’s seungcheol who completely loses it. you’re sitting beside him, watching him tear up before she’s even started dancing. by the time the performance is over, he’s full-on crying, holding his face in his hands as you rub his back, trying to calm him down.

“it’s just… she’s growing up so fast,” he sniffs, looking up at you with watery eyes, completely unashamed of the tears streaming down his face. and you can’t help but love him more for it, for how much he loves his daughter, for how raw and real he is when it comes to her.

your intimate life? that’s been steady too, despite how busy things get. with a kid around, it’s not always easy to find the time, but seungcheol makes sure you’re never left wanting. there are the quickies, yeah, when his daughter’s asleep and you’ve got the living room to yourselves, stealing a heated make-out session that somehow ends up with your back pressed against the couch cushions, his hands roaming under your clothes while he kisses you senseless.

but if things get too feral, you two will sneak off to the laundry room or the closet, anywhere you can get a little privacy. he’s fast, efficient, but still so thorough, making sure you’re fully satisfied every single time. it’s like, no matter how quick things have to be, he’s always got this laser focus on making you feel good.

but even with all the passion, he’s still got that soft side. sometimes, it’s just enough to make out on the couch, your lips swollen from kissing, the weight of him pressed against you. and in those moments, there’s this quiet comprehension between you two. you don’t need the sex to feel connected—sometimes, just being close is enough.

but it’s getting harder for him to hold back. every time he sees you playing with his daughter, every time she asks if you’re coming over for dinner, he feels it. that pull. that urge to make you his. and one night, after his daughter’s fallen asleep and the two of you are tangled up on the couch, catching your breath after another one of those wild, stolen moments, he looks at you, really looks at you, and the words just fall out of his mouth.

“marry me.”

it’s not planned, not rehearsed. hell, he hadn’t even thought about it until the moment the words slipped out. but once they’re out there, he realizes he’s never been more sure of anything in his life. his hand tightens around yours, and he’s staring at you like you’re the only thing in the world that matters, like he’s already bracing himself for the answer.

and all you can think is, finally.

[peachycocaine]

some ideas for you (if you want them) <3

brothers bff!thanos who has been secretly fucking you for years and is always threatening to tell on you two to your brother whenever you’re being a brat but you always beg him not to because you don’t want your little secret to end (and then of course you have to *thank him* for not telling)

or!

reader and thanos have an only fans and they keep getting recognized for it (whether that be in the games or just in public) and people always say gross stuff to you and it makes you sad :( (this could end up being smut or angst or fluff or any combo tbh)

or!

you’re broke and the only place you can afford to rent is a room in some dude named thanos’s house… the first few months are chill but he keeps stealing your undies (he’s not at all slick about it) and whenever he asks you to come watch shows with him in the living room he sticks his hand down your pants (never actually *doing* anything but just to show you that he can)… then finally you realize you’re not gonna be able to pay rent this month and he just smiles because there are other forms of payment :) (this one could be headcannons or an actual story)

Okay cuz why did these actually eat hello?? Thank u sm noonie i've been yearning for ideas!! i'll try to do all of these, no promises though might end up procrastinating :/

Sealed deal

Pairings: pervy landlord!thanos x fem!reader

Tw: p in v, unprotected sex (rmbr to wrap it before you tap it), dry humping, mentions of drug usage, language

You had been financially struggling for a long time, you didn't have a place of your own to stay at. Though your friend let you live with her for 2 weeks, she eventually told you she couldn't let you live with her any longer. And you understood that, you were living with her free of charge and she had to cover for your expenses. She had to buy twice the amount of food and the electricity and water bills would come in double the cost due to you living with her. She was also struggling and so she had to do what she had to do. You did have a job, which paid minimum wage. Seeing your condition your friend suggested that you could live with one of her friend's, but you'd have to pay monthly rent of course. At first you weren't very fond of the idea since her said friend was a male but it was the only one thing you could afford right now. You turned up her offer and moved in with her friend.

His appearance was questionable but you had no other choice than to adjust. he wasn't really living lavish but his financial status was above average, he made his money off of his meaningless raps. At first living with him was easy, he didn't really bother you since he was always too busy doing drugs or trying to come up with new rap lyrics or he'd just be outside with his friends. But after 2 or 3 months, you noticed that alot of your panties went missing. At first you shook it off thinking they got lost, but too many of them had gone missing. And ofcourse the culprit was the man that lived with you. He gave 0 fucks about hiding it too, you could walk into his bedroom and you'd find your panties laying on his bed. You just took them back without confronting him about it, trying to ignore the fact that the man you lived with and will be living with for a good while was a pervert.

As time went on, interactions between you two became more frequent. He'd ask you to join him on the couch at times, though you'd always hesitate before you went because everytime you did he'd sneak touches to your thighs or brush his arm against your tit and call it an accident. He'd shove his hands down your pants, letting it rest against your clothed pussy as he watched your shift uncomfortably, at times he'd press his palm harder against your core. You didn't really say anything, well, more like you couldn't because you knew if you protested against him he could kick you right out. You tolerated his panty stealing habit until you found one of your panties covered in some slimey substance. You instantly dropped it when you realized that slimey gooey substance was his cum. You wanted to get out of here as soon as possible but you knew you couldn't.

You spent half the money you earned from working your ass off on clothes and other necessities, forgetting to save some for rent. You realized you were short on rent money and panic set it. Maybe you could ask thanos to give you one more month and pay off your rent after you earn more, but you knew thanos wasn't that generous or sympathetic. Later that evening he approached you and you just stood there hoping he'd forgot about the rent. "Hey, y'know its time to pay up right? Come on" he sticks his hand out, expecting you to hand him money. You chew your lower lip before gathering up the courage to speak. "U-uhm right so.. im short on money right now but could you please just give me one more month? I promise i'll pay full by next month" you heart was thumping in your chest, waiting for his response. He just looked at you and gave you a smile. His expression was unreadable, you couldn't really tell if his smile meant a yes or no. He stepped closer to you, towering over you as he leaned in "it doesn't work that way senõrita, now does it?" His breath fanned over your ear before he stepped back. You started fiddling with your fingers, growing more and more anxious about what you could do.

"I don't have the money on me, i really cant do anything about that, you have to understand, please." You pleaded hoping he'd show some mercy and let it slide this time. He rubbed his chin acting like he was thinking "hmm.. you could do one thing though.." his tone suggestive. "A-and what could that be..?" You saw right through his intentions, you knew what kind of man he was. He scanned your body up and down, practically eye-fucking you. Your body tensed at the way he looked at you. "Come on, don't act all innocent doll. Y'know what im talking about." He smirked at you and you just bit your lip. You knew exactly what he meant, he wanted you to pay with your body and you knew he had you cornered. You bunched up your shirt in your fists and just simply nodded, giving him a greenlight to do whatever he wanted to you. He was quick to jump at you, you fell back and landed on the couch as he eagerly started kissing you, almost devouring you whole. You just laid there, letting it happen as he caged you in. His hands were roaming around your body eagerly, exploring your skin like theres no tomorrow. He roughly squeezed your breast as his mouth never left yours, you moaned into his mouth making him shove his tongue deeper down your throat. He pulled away from you, panting as a string of saliva connected your mouths. You looked anywhere but at him, not wanting to see his face as he took advantage of you. He cupped your cheek and made you look at him, his thumb tracing your bottom lip as he started grinding his bulge against your clothed sex.

"Do you feel that? Feel how hard you make me?" His voice was raspy and breathy as he rubbed his groin against your crotch. You tried supressing your moans by biting your lip, trying not to give him the enjoyment of this situation. He rolled his hips and you could feel his hard throbbing cock through his sweats and of course he wasn't wearing boxers. His movements came to a halt and he started pulling his sweats down. "Undress." It was a command not a question. You did as you were told and took off your clothes while he did the same.

You two were skin to skin now, his naked form on top of yours. He looked down at you, admiring every inch of your bare body. "Fuck i can't believe you've been hiding this gorgeous body of yours from me since months." He chuckled as he spread your thighs apart further and positioned himself between you. He ran his cock up and down your slit before tapping the head on your clit a few times, earning a moan from you. Your moan gave him a head start as he began pushing his tip in, resulting in you biting your fist. He was bigger than you thought and the stretch made you want to scream. You let out a pained whimper as he began slowly pushing each inch into your tight pussy, splitting you apart on his cock with each inch. He let out a groan as he bottomed down, he was kind enough to give you time to adjust before he began rocking his hips gently. You covered your mouth with your hand trying to stop the moans that were forcefully pulled out of your throat. You hated the fact that it felt so fucking good, his fat head grazing your G spot with each thrust. He cooed and peeled your hand away from your mouth "c'mon dont hide those moans from me now, i needa hear how good i make you feel" he said as he dipped his head down, planting rough kisses to your neck. He started thrusting his hips into you faster, his dick slammed in and out of you. Your hands instantly flew to his hair, tugging on it as he bit down on your neck. He marked your neck before licking the bite mark "look at you taking dick like a good girl" his breathing heavy as he pulled away from your neck to admire your face.

The way your lips parted and tears pricked your eyes made his cock throb inside you. He pulled all the way out till only his head was in before ramming his dick back into you, aggressively fucking his cock into you as he watched your tits bounce with each of his thrusts. The sight before him made him almost lose control and cum right then. He eagerly stuck his hand between the both of you and started messily rubbing your clit. He was eager to make you cum, he wanted you to cover his dick in your cum. Your back arched as your nails dug into his back as he began rubbing your clit. Feeling tension build up in your stomach, you felt yourself getting closer with each of his thrusts. He felt your walls spasm around his cock, noticing that you were about to cum "gonna make a mess all over my cock princess? Go ahead, cum on my fucking dick like the little whore you are" he lifted up one of your legs to get a better angle, his dick pounding into you deeper now. After a few thrusts, you came undone on his cock. Your body fell limp beneath him as he kept snapping his hips into yours. His hips stuttered as he came closer to release. With one swift thrust, he burried himself deep inside you. Painting your insides white with his cum.

He collapsed on top of you, both of you trying to catch your breaths. He pulled out his now soft dick, watching in awe as his cum gushed out of your used cunt. "Payment succesful"

[ashthesalamipiece]

Could I possibly request one where pro hero Bakugo is talking to deku and suddenly is like talking about how he want to propose to his girlfriend and dekus like “WHAT GIRLFRIEND” and Bakugo like, the girlfriend I’ve had since middle school?? It’s not that he was hiding it he just never rlly talked abt i. BUT THEN after asking questions deku finds out she quirkless and starts crashing out bc while bakugo was actively bullying him in middle school for being quirkless he had a little quirkless girlfriend. I love u girl do ur thing 🙏

Thank you bbg, enjoy♡

"Since Middle School"

Pro Hero Bakugou x Quirkless!Reader | Humor, Soft Romance, Emotional Chaos, Izuku Spiral™

---

It started like any other post-mission debrief between Pro Heroes.

The office was quiet, save for the hum of the lights and the distant tapping of keyboards. Deku sat on the edge of his desk, still nursing a scratch on his cheek, while Bakugou leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, eyes on the ceiling.

“I think I’m gonna propose,” Bakugou said, casual as anything.

Deku choked on his energy drink. “To who??”

Bakugou blinked at him. “To my girlfriend?”

“You have a girlfriend??”

“...Yeah?” Bakugou frowned. “You’ve met her, haven’t you?”

“NO??”

Bakugou tilted his head like this was somehow his fault. “Huh. Thought you did.”

“You never mentioned her before! When did this happen??”

Bakugou shrugged. “Middle school.”

Deku went still. “What?”

“We’ve been dating since middle school,” Bakugou said, offhand. “Told her I liked her after I blew up some kid who called her useless. She said she already knew.”

Deku’s soul briefly left his body.

Bakugou kept talking like this was all very normal. “She used to help me with my homework. Smart as hell. Always carried extra snacks in her bag. Hated when I picked fights, but let me get away with it anyway. She’s—” he cut himself off, ears going slightly red. “Whatever. She’s awesome.”

Deku’s eye twitched. “Kacchan.”

“What?”

“She’s quirkless.”

“...Yeah?”

“YOU’VE BEEN DATING A QUIRKLESS GIRL SINCE MIDDLE SCHOOL—WHILE BULLYING ME FOR BEING QUIRKLESS—??”

Bakugou winced. “Okay, first of all—”

“NO.” Deku stood up like his brain had snapped in half. “You used to shove my notebooks in the dirt for existing and then go hold hands with your little quirkless girlfriend?? What kind of—what double standard—”

“I didn’t shove your notebooks for being quirkless! I shoved them because you were annoying as shit!”

“YOU CALLED ME A USELESS DEKU—WHILE YOU WERE IN LOVE WITH A QUIRKLESS GIRL—”

“Don’t call her that,” Bakugou snapped, sharp. “She’s not useless.”

Deku froze. “I wasn’t—!”

Bakugou sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I know. Just don’t like that word near her.”

Deku stared, mouth opening and closing like a dying fish. “You... you were defending her back then, too?”

Bakugou looked away. “I didn’t get it. Not all the way. But she never made me feel like I was better. Or worse. She just… treated me like I was worth something, without having to prove it.”

Silence fell.

Deku sat back down, slowly, brain still rebooting.

After a long beat, he said, “You’re telling me you’ve been in a long-term, secret, emotionally fulfilling relationship for ten years—with a quirkless civilian—and you never thought to mention it once??”

Bakugou scoffed. “It’s not a secret, you nerd. I just don’t go around broadcasting my business like it’s a damn podcast.”

Deku stared into the void.

Bakugou shrugged. “You wanna meet her?”

“YES???!??!”

---

Bonus: When Deku does meet you

You: smiles brightly, offers him a cookie

Deku: shaking I—I can’t believe you’re real.

You: “Katsuki told me you’d be dramatic.”

Deku: “HE CALLS YOU BY YOUR NAME??”

Bakugou: from the kitchen “YEAH?? SHE HAS ONE???”

[cbeargyu]

hihii, can u write anything involving yeonbin x reader with smut in it? 😇

always ours

summary: you’ve been inseparable from yeonjun and soobin since high school—chaotic, intense, and addicting. but when a new guy asks you out, your best friends don’t take it lightly. what starts as teasing turns into something raw, dominant, and impossible to come back from.

pairing: bff!yeonjun x fem!reader x bff!soobin

genre: friends to lovers, smut, porn with plot, possessive dynamics, college au.

warnings: threesome, oral (m!receiving & f!receiving), double penetration, semi-public setting (shared dorm), spit, cumplay, overstimulation, mild choking, aftercare, phone call humiliation, jealousy, possessiveness, light degradation, praise kink, no condoms (wrap it up irl), minors dni.

wc: 3,9k

notes: anon i hope you like this omg i honestly loved writing it… i’m so deep in my toxic yeonbin era rn it’s insane 😵‍💫🔥

you met yeonjun and soobin on the first day of high school, the three of you stumbling into the hallway almost at the same time—breathless, out of sync with the bell, and equally unprepared for the scolding you were about to receive.

“this isn’t a good first impression,” the teacher had snapped, tapping their clipboard against their palm.

you bit back a smile, glancing to your right where yeonjun stood, lips twitching with barely hidden amusement. soobin, to your left, looked like he wanted the ground to swallow him whole.

“sorry,” you mumbled, trying to look remorseful.

“yeah, won’t happen again,” yeonjun added, though his tone made it clear he wasn’t exactly convincing.

and that was how it started.

punishment turned to inside jokes. inside jokes turned to late-night calls. and somewhere between high school chaos and teenage recklessness, the three of you became inseparable. like a small, unruly universe made just for the three of you.

yeonjun was the storm. loud, magnetic, impossible to ignore. he had this fire in him that made every party burn just a little brighter. the kind of person who made you forget to check the time, who spun you in circles on dance floors and poured shots like they were candy.

soobin was the calm. quiet at first, a little stiff around the edges, but he unraveled slowly—beautifully. it was you and yeonjun who peeled his layers back, who taught him how to scream lyrics at karaoke and sneak out after curfew to sit on the swings behind the school.

“you think we corrupted him?” yeonjun had asked once, lazily draped across your lap in your room, his fingers toying with the hem of your shirt.

you laughed. “nah. we just showed him the fun parts of life.”

“he’s gonna thank us when he’s older,” yeonjun grinned, eyes fluttering closed.

“i already do,” soobin had murmured from the floor, his voice so soft it barely reached your ears.

college didn’t change much. if anything, it solidified everything.

you found a university that fit all three of you—gastronomy for soobin, theater for yeonjun, graphic design for you. it felt like fate, like everything had been leading up to this. they shared a room in their frat house, and you stayed across campus with yeji, though you rarely spent the night there. you were always with them.

dinners cooked by soobin in their tiny kitchen. wine nights on the floor of their dorm, yeonjun making dramatic toasts with a plastic cup in hand. movie marathons that ended with all three of you passed out on the same bed, tangled up in limbs and warmth.

and then there were the quiet moments.

“you think we’ll still be this close after college?” soobin asked one night, head resting on your shoulder as the three of you laid in the grass, stargazing after a failed attempt to sneak into a rooftop party.

“why wouldn’t we be?” yeonjun replied, flicking a pebble into the air.

“people change,” soobin said.

“not us,” you whispered, squeezing his hand.

“never us,” yeonjun echoed, voice firm in the dark.

the truth was, you loved them. both of them. differently, but deeply.

with soobin, it was soft glances and shared secrets at 3am, spoonfuls of ice cream and understanding that didn't need to be spoken.

with yeonjun, it was wild laughter and quick heartbeats, his arms slung around your waist like they belonged there, his breath against your neck when he leaned in too close.

you had crushed on both, once. maybe still did. but you'd never dared to cross the line. they were your best friends. your chaos. your home.

and you didn’t want to ruin that.

you knock once before letting yourself in, already knowing they’re inside. yeonjun’s sprawled out on his bed, legs dangling, his phone in hand. soobin’s sitting at his desk, flipping through a cookbook lazily, pen between his fingers.

“hey,” you mumble, stepping in and dropping your bag on the floor.

both of them look up.

“hey,” yeonjun answers first, but there’s something unreadable in his tone. soobin only hums in acknowledgment, eyes flicking back down to the page like he’s disinterested.

you bite your lip. the air feels... different. you walk over to sit on soobin’s bed, smoothing your hands over your thighs.

“i can’t stay too long,” you say after a moment. “i’ve got a date at four.”

silence.

dead silence.

then, yeonjun sits up slowly, putting his phone aside.

“with who?” his voice is calm, but laced with something sharp beneath the surface.

“minho,” you reply, trying to sound casual. “he’s that guy from the literature class. he’s been kind of persistent, and i figured… why not give it a shot?”

soobin finally closes his book.

“why not?” he repeats softly.

you glance between them. yeonjun’s standing now, arms crossed, eyes dark. soobin’s turned his chair fully toward you, his gaze unreadable.

“what?” you say with a nervous laugh. “you guys are being weird.”

“weird?” yeonjun steps closer. “we’ve been right here the whole time. and now some random guy bats his lashes and you’re ready to forget us?”

“i’m not forgetting—”

“you barely talk to us anymore,” soobin interrupts, voice low, steady. “we used to spend every night together. now you’re always texting him. smiling at your phone. disappearing without telling us.”

your heart pounds in your chest.

“we’re your best friends,” yeonjun says, now standing right in front of you. “aren’t we?”

“i—” you start, but the words die in your throat when soobin gets up too, moving in closer. you’re suddenly caged between their bodies, yeonjun in front of you, soobin behind, the air thick and heavy with tension.

“we don’t like sharing,” soobin murmurs near your ear, his voice deep and dangerous.

“especially not with someone who doesn’t know how to take care of you,” yeonjun adds, tilting your chin up with two fingers. “not like we do.”

you feel soobin’s hands on your shoulders first—soft, deliberate—then sliding down your arms slowly, trailing heat through your sleeves. yeonjun watches your face, eyes flickering down to your lips.

“we missed you,” soobin whispers, pressing closer from behind, his body warm against your back.

“and you’re gonna leave us for him?” yeonjun scoffs, leaning in. “what does he have that we don’t, huh?”

you can’t speak.

you can barely breathe.

“look at her,” soobin murmurs, his hands sliding down your waist, resting just above your hips. “she’s already melting.”

yeonjun smiles, slow and cruel, before taking your hand—guiding it down to his jeans. your breath hitches when you feel the hardness there, straining under the fabric.

“feel that?” he asks, his voice dropping an octave. “you’re making me hard and you haven’t even done anything yet.”

you whimper, and behind you, soobin’s fingers are already teasing at the hem of your shirt, slipping under to brush against your skin.

“good girl,” he breathes, mouth brushing against your neck. “stay still.”

you obey without thinking.

yeonjun guides your hand to squeeze around him, his jaw tightening. “that’s it, baby. don’t be shy now.”

soobin’s hands slip up your torso, inching your shirt higher. he pulls it over your head without warning, letting it fall to the floor.

“fuck,” he hisses, trailing his fingertips down your spine. “you’re so pretty. so fucking pretty.”

you feel yeonjun’s fingers curl around your chin again, tilting your face up until your eyes meet his.

“tell us you don’t want him,” he murmurs, his lips brushing yours. “tell us you want us instead.”

your mouth parts, trembling.

“i want you,” you breathe. “both of you.”

yeonjun crashes his lips against yours in a bruising kiss, hand sliding to your throat while soobin’s fingers work at the button of your jeans. you moan into yeonjun’s mouth when soobin slips a hand inside, fingers finding the soaked fabric of your panties.

“already so wet,” soobin groans, teasing your clit with slow, deliberate strokes. “you were gonna give this to him?”

“no—n-no, i—”

“but you would’ve,” yeonjun growls, pulling back to stare into your eyes. “you would’ve let him touch you like this?”

you whimper, shaking your head, but they don’t stop. soobin’s fingers slide lower, dipping inside you, and you cry out, gripping yeonjun’s arms for support.

“look at her,” yeonjun says, voice thick. “so obedient. so fucking desperate.”

“mine,” soobin mutters against your skin, kissing your neck, your shoulder, biting down gently. “ours.”

you don’t remember how you ended up on your knees.

maybe it was yeonjun’s hand curling tighter around your throat, forcing you down with a smirk tugging at his lips. maybe it was soobin’s fingers still deep inside you, curling in slow, deliberate strokes that made your legs give out.

either way, you’re kneeling between yeonjun’s thighs now, your shirt forgotten on the floor, your jeans half-off, and your body trembling with need.

“open,” yeonjun commands, unzipping his jeans, his voice rough and low. you obey instantly, lips parting as he pulls his cock free—thick, flushed, already leaking at the tip.

you moan at the sight of him, pupils blown wide.

“god, look at you,” he breathes, brushing the head of his cock over your lips. “you’d take anything we give you, wouldn’t you?”

behind you, soobin’s kneeling too, hands spreading your thighs wider as he pulls your jeans and panties all the way down, exposing your dripping pussy to the cool air. he groans at the sight, warm breath ghosting over your skin.

“you’re soaked,” he mutters, fingers dragging through your folds, spreading your slick. “fuck, you wanted this. you wanted this.”

you whimper around yeonjun’s cock as he slides it slowly into your mouth, just the tip at first, letting you taste him. his hand fists in your hair, guiding you with slow thrusts.

“good girl,” he murmurs, hips rocking forward. “take it. all the way.”

you hollow your cheeks, lips sliding down his shaft, letting him hit the back of your throat. you gag softly, but he doesn’t stop. he holds you there, eyes burning into yours.

“breathe through your nose,” he whispers, thumb brushing your cheek. “that’s it, baby. you’re doing so good.”

and then you feel soobin.

you feel the thick, slow push of his cock against your pussy as he aligns himself behind you. one hand on your hip, the other spreading you open.

he slides in with a single, slow thrust, filling you completely.

you moan around yeonjun’s cock, tears pricking the corners of your eyes from the sheer stretch of both sensations—the weight in your throat, the fullness in your cunt. soobin bottoms out with a soft groan, his chest pressed to your back, one hand snaking around to toy with your clit.

“fuck,” he breathes against your ear. “you’re so tight. squeezing me so good.”

you’re shaking, drool spilling from the corners of your mouth as yeonjun starts to fuck your throat in slow, steady thrusts, his hand tangled in your hair. soobin’s hips begin to move behind you, rocking into you with deep, languid strokes that make your knees weak.

“we should’ve done this sooner,” yeonjun grits out, watching your lips stretch around him. “should’ve claimed you before that asshole even looked your way.”

soobin grunts in agreement, fingers digging into your hips as he thrusts harder now, his cock slamming into that sweet spot that makes your walls clamp around him.

“mine,” he growls. “you’re ours now. say it.”

you pull off yeonjun with a gasp, spit glistening on your chin.

“i’m yours,” you pant, voice broken. “yours, please—don’t stop, i need it, i need you both.”

“fuck,” yeonjun hisses, pulling you up by your arms.

he trades places with soobin in a blink, and before you can catch your breath, he’s behind you now, lifting your hips and positioning himself.

soobin sits in front of you, back against the bed frame, legs spread, his cock flushed and wet with your saliva. he smirks and taps it against his stomach.

“get back to work, baby.”

you crawl into his lap, lips parting to take him in again. and just as your tongue swirls around his tip, yeonjun slams into you from behind—one brutal, deep thrust that knocks the breath from your lungs.

you cry out, muffled around soobin’s cock, as yeonjun starts fucking you with no mercy, his pace fast, relentless.

the room is filled with the wet sound of skin on skin, of your moans, the sharp grunts from both of them as they use you—one filling your mouth, the other pounding into your dripping pussy.

“look at her,” yeonjun groans, hands bruising on your hips. “taking both of us like a perfect little slut.”

“fuck, her mouth feels so good,” soobin pants, hand cradling the back of your head, guiding your movements as you bob up and down his cock. “she loves this. look at her eyes, she’s fucking gone.”

you are.

your brain is mush, your body a trembling mess of need and pleasure and overstimulation. every thrust from yeonjun hits your cervix, while soobin’s cock stretches your throat, and you're on the edge of something dangerous, something all-consuming.

but they’re not done.

yeonjun pulls out suddenly, chest heaving, and you whine at the loss.

“lay down,” he orders.

you obey without question, collapsing onto your back, legs spread.

soobin moves between your thighs again, sliding his cock into your pussy easily, your slick coating him.

yeonjun kneels beside your head, stroking himself slowly as he watches.

“lift her leg,” he tells soobin. “i want to see her face when i stretch her open.”

you’re confused—until you feel it.

yeonjun’s fingers pressing against your other hole, slick with spit, circling gently.

“you can take it,” he whispers, leaning close, his voice pure sin. “you want to be filled up, don’t you? both holes, stuffed full.”

your moan is instant, desperate.

“yes, yes, please—”

he pushes in slowly, carefully, stretching your ass inch by inch as soobin keeps thrusting into your pussy, slower now, more controlled, letting your body adjust.

and then—

they’re both inside.

stuffed in both holes, moving in perfect rhythm, your body shaking between them.

you’re not sure how you’re still conscious.

every thrust sends white heat shooting through your veins, both cocks sliding in and out of you, filling you so deeply you feel like you might break. tears run down your cheeks. your mouth hangs open in a silent scream.

“she’s fucking dripping,” soobin gasps, gripping your thigh tighter.

“she’s close,” yeonjun growls. “don’t stop.”

you can’t take it.

you fall apart beneath them, your orgasm crashing into you like a wave—violent, overwhelming, so intense you sob their names.

your walls clamp down hard, milking soobin, and the moment he feels it, he thrusts deep once, twice—then cums inside you with a loud groan, his warmth spilling into your cunt.

yeonjun isn’t far behind. with a rough snarl, he drives into your ass a final time, burying himself to the hilt before spilling inside you too, his cum hot and thick.

you’re shaking, spent, your body a mess of slick, sweat, and cum.

they collapse around you, one on each side, panting, hands stroking your thighs, your stomach, your face.

“you’re not going on that date,” yeonjun says finally, voice hoarse.

soobin chuckles softly, kissing your jaw.

“you’re staying right here.”

your body’s still trembling when they finally pull out.

soobin’s the first to move—quiet, gentle—pressing soft kisses to your shoulder, your cheek, brushing damp strands of hair from your face. yeonjun’s slower, but his hands don’t leave you. they stay firm on your waist, grounding you, thumbs tracing slow circles into your skin like he’s trying to memorize you.

your thighs are sticky with cum—their cum—and you whimper softly as soobin reaches for a warm towel he’d left on the desk earlier, wiping between your legs with careful, reverent strokes.

“easy,” he whispers, kissing your inner thigh. “i’ve got you.”

yeonjun leans in and plants a kiss to your temple, then your collarbone, then the curve of your breast.

“still with us, baby?” he murmurs.

you nod, dazed. “mmhmm…”

they smile.

you feel it more than see it—warmth radiating off of them, like they’re proud of you. like they’ve claimed something sacred. and maybe they have.

you’re sprawled across soobin’s bed, between their bodies, completely bare and boneless. soobin curls around you from behind, arms wrapped tight around your waist. yeonjun’s lying on his side, facing you, fingers brushing softly over your jaw.

“you’re not leaving this room today,” yeonjun says eventually, low and firm.

“wasn’t planning on it,” you whisper, cheek pressing into soobin’s chest.

“good.”

you close your eyes, letting their warmth cocoon you, letting their presence fill every corner of your being.

but the moment is cut short.

ring ring.

you tense.

your phone buzzes on the floor, lighting up. again. and again. three missed calls. then four.

yeonjun leans over the edge of the bed, grabs it without a word.

“minho,” he reads out loud, smirking. “persistent little fucker, isn’t he?”

you blink slowly, too hazy to respond, body still aching from the stretch of them both. soobin’s hand strokes over your side protectively.

ring ring.

yeonjun answers.

“hello?”

there’s a pause, then the faint sound of minho’s voice on the other end.

“yeah, no,” yeonjun says, voice suddenly cold, sharp. “she’s not coming.”

more silence.

“because she’s busy. very busy. on her knees, actually. stuffed full of two cocks. think you can compete with that, poetry boy?”

your eyes widen, face burning.

soobin snorts softly behind you, his lips brushing your shoulder.

yeonjun chuckles darkly.

“yeah. thought so. don’t call again.”

he hangs up, tosses the phone aside, and turns back to you with a wicked smile.

“problem solved.”

you stare at him, breath catching in your throat.

“jun,” you whisper. “that was mean.”

he shrugs. “he doesn’t get to have you. not after what we just did. not ever.”

soobin hums in agreement, voice low against your ear.

“you’re ours now. fully.”

you shiver again—but not from the cold.

yeonjun leans down, kissing your lips softly this time. lingering.

“he couldn’t fuck you like we can.”

soobin pulls you closer, wrapping you tighter in his arms.

“he doesn’t know you like we do.”

and you know they’re right.

your body’s theirs.

your heart’s been theirs for years.

and now, so is your soul.

you should’ve been too sore to move.

but it only takes yeonjun leaning over you again—his breath hot against your neck, his fingers trailing down the mess between your legs—for your body to spark back to life, nerve endings alight, needy, desperate.

“fuck, you’re still dripping,” he groans, running his fingers through your folds. “look at this. you want more, don’t you?”

your hips twitch involuntarily, back arching.

“please,” you breathe, eyes fluttering open. “again. please, jun.”

soobin’s already shifting behind you, his chest pressed to your back, lips brushing your ear.

“you’re insatiable,” he whispers, kissing down your shoulder, leaving wet marks along your spine. “so fucking greedy for us.”

you whine, turning your face toward him, catching his lips in a kiss—sloppy, slow, tongues tangling in heat.

yeonjun watches for a second, then grabs your jaw, yanking you toward him.

“mine,” he growls, crashing his mouth onto yours.

his kiss is brutal. full of tongue, spit, teeth. he kisses you like he’s starving, like you’re the only thing keeping him alive. when he pulls back, your lips are swollen, slick, your breath ragged.

soobin moves down, spreading your thighs again. you gasp when you feel his tongue—slow at first, then eager, messy, as he licks up their combined release from your cunt like it’s the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted.

“fuck, soobin,” you gasp, trembling. “that’s—ah—”

“so sweet,” he moans against your pussy. “can’t waste a drop.”

yeonjun grins above you. “you taste us, baby? both of us?”

you nod frantically, thighs shaking.

then he’s sliding down your body, biting, sucking, leaving red marks in his wake until he reaches your breasts. his tongue swirls around your nipple, teeth tugging just enough to make you cry out. one hand fists in your hair while the other grips your throat, possessive.

“you’re not leaving this bed until you’re fucked dumb,” he hisses. “until you forget that guy’s name. until all you can say is our fucking names.”

“yes,” you whimper. “yes, please, fuck me—”

soobin’s mouth leaves your cunt just long enough to say, “on your knees.”

you obey without hesitation, still shaking, hands and knees sinking into the mattress.

yeonjun moves behind you, spreading your ass open with a low growl.

“gonna ruin this pretty pussy again,” he mutters. “make you scream.”

soobin sits in front of you, already hard again, stroking himself slowly. “come on, baby. open up.”

you take him into your mouth with no hesitation, tongue swirling around the head, hollowing your cheeks as you sink down his shaft. he groans, head falling back, one hand on your cheek.

“just like that. fuck, your mouth…”

yeonjun doesn’t wait.

you feel the hot press of his cock against your pussy again, and then he’s inside—one hard, deep thrust that knocks your breath out. no build-up. just possession.

“fuck, yes,” he snarls, snapping his hips forward. “so tight—still fucking tight.”

his rhythm is brutal. fast. relentless. your body jolts forward with every thrust, your mouth choking around soobin’s cock as he cradles your face, thumb brushing your cheek.

“that’s it, baby,” soobin pants. “let him fuck you stupid while you suck me off. we’ll fill every part of you again.”

yeonjun leans over your back, pressing his chest to you as he pounds into your soaked pussy. his hand finds your clit, rubbing rough circles that make you cry out around soobin’s cock.

“you love this,” he growls into your ear. “being used like this. full. dripping. ours.”

tears blur your vision. it’s too much and not enough. your orgasm builds fast, coiling tight in your belly, heat crawling up your spine.

and then he pulls out.

you sob, shaking.

“no—please—”

“on your back,” he commands. “want to see your face when you cum again.”

you scramble to obey, eyes glassy, lips red and slick.

yeonjun grabs your legs and throws them over his shoulders, cock sliding into you again with one hard thrust. the angle makes you scream.

soobin straddles your chest, feeding you his cock again as yeonjun fucks you deeper than before, harder, rougher.

“fuck, fuck—” you cry out between sucks, hips grinding into yeonjun’s thrusts.

soobin leans down, kissing your mouth while you still have his cock half in. wet, filthy, hungry.

“you’re ours,” he moans. “say it.”

“y-yours,” you cry. “only yours.”

and you are. wrecked, stretched, pinned between them like you were made for it.

yeonjun slams in one last time, his hand curling around your throat again, choking you lightly as your orgasm explodes.

your vision goes white.

you clamp down hard, sobbing, shaking, the orgasm ripping through you so violently it feels like you’ll break apart.

soobin cums next, groaning as he spills on your chest, his cock twitching against your lips.

yeonjun follows, thrusting deep and staying there as he fills you again, moaning your name like a prayer.

when they collapse on either side of you, you’re not even sure you can speak.

you’re a trembling, soaked, fucked-out mess. your thighs are bruised. your lips swollen. and your heart—your heart is full.

soobin kisses your jaw softly, pulling you close, hand stroking your side.

yeonjun wipes your tears, kisses your eyelids.

“no one else gets to have you,” he whispers. “not ever.”

you smile through the haze, body aching and used.

“wouldn’t want anyone else.”

[sukunacest]

cw:: stepcest

should i make a m.list? lol idk. experimenting with this writing style. do u guys like this or prefer the shorter drabbles?

it was a dark and stormy night, and of course, the one night the weather is god awful, is the night your stuck at home with your annoying stepbrother.

beep. your phone notification sounded off.

"the storm is too bad for us to drive home in. we're going to get a hotel tonight." your mother texted you.

great, just great. no parents meant no home cooked dinner. and with how the wind was actively howling on your window, that probably meant no pizza delivery either.

you decide to head to the kitchen and attempt to make something for yourself to eat. and that's when you run into the biggest issue you've had for the last six months: choso.

he constantly played his guitar loudly when you were trying to study or sleep. he would always complain about you bothering him every time you stepped a foot anywhere in his direction. he always ate your snacks :(( and he always made sure his friends knew he was an "only child", completely denying your existence as his sis- step-sister.

the trees outside the kitchen window knocked and knocked, reminding you just how ugly the weather was tonight.

you quickly searched the cabinets for anything you could quickly make before the storm got cocky and shut the power off. sandwich? that won't fill you up. poptarts? not a real meal. ramen soup? boring. salad? double boring. you finally settled on warming up a frozen meal in the microwave and that's when chaos ensued.

choso strutted in, not even acknowledging you and opened the microwave and took your food out, just to put his own in there.

"what the hell? you couldnt have waited til mine was done?" you shoved him lightly.

"didn't feel like it" he shoved you back.

you quickly hit the "open" button, halting his cooking. now you were both at a stand off. "wait your turn, asshole," you snapped back at him. "your dad said you have to be nicer to me"

he scoffs, rolling his dark brown eyes. "i don't have to do shit" he slams the microwave door, stabbing the start button with his fingers. "you're not even my real sister"

you knew he was upset about his dad's recent marriage, but you've been nothing but kind to him (for the most part)— completely confusing you as to why he was always so hostile.

you were done taking shit from him.

you unplugged the microwave and watched as choso's eyes widened. with fury or surprise, you couldn't tell. you were just done being treated so rudely by him.

the second he lifted his arm, as if he was going to do something to you, there was another high pitched howl outside the kitchen window then your vision went dark.

you pulled out your phone to check the weather app and it seems the power was going to be out for the rest of the night.

"i guess no one's getting their food now" you tried to joke but choso was already stomping back to his room, slamming the door once he got there.

you grab a snack, running back to your room, using your phone's flashlight to guide you. you try to hide under your blanket and sleep, but the howling outside only got louder and louder.

tap.tap.tap.

the noises were never ending.

a shadow, the silhouette unrecognizable. there was guitar noises coming from the next room so it definitely wasn't choso and it literally couldn't be your parents.

tap.tap.tap.

there's no tree by your bedroom window...

the shadows outside were locked onto you. one more tap and you were bolting out of your room, hanging on choso's door.

"what do you want—"

you pushed him aside and jumped into his bed.

"im sleeping in here"

"no the fuck you're not!"

"i think someone is outside my window!"

"not my problem!" choso tried to grab your legs to pull you off his bed, but you fought back, kicking at him to get away. your leg strength unexpectedly held him back until he sighed in defeat.

"whatever, scoot over then."

you smile victorious and slide under the covers. choso lays above them, softly stroking his guitar.

this was the first time since your mom married his dad that you two have been this close without him getting upset. you might as well take this chance to find out why.

"choso..." you whisper. "why do you hate me so much...?"

he rolls his eyes, the violet eyeshadow making his expression more dramatic than he intended. "i don't— I don't hate you."

"then why..."

"because im pissed my dad married your mom"

your silent as you process his answer. of course your mom wasn't perfect, but she was always nice to choso, doing as much as she could as if he were her own. in the darkness of the night, choso could feel your confusion, so he continued.

"i had a crush on you in school." you gasp, but cover your mouth to let him finish. "you didn't notice me back then, but then my dad married your mom and blew whatever chance i would've had."

the silence that followed was thick. you can't even hear the wind outside anymore.

"you're kidding," you whisper, butterflies flooding your stomach >.<

"i'm not," he sounds annoyed. "i used to sit behind you in chemistry. you smelled like strawberries and wore those ugly-ass headphones every day."

you don't really see it in the clouded darkness of his room, but you can hear and feel him sniffing. "you still smell like strawberries."

"but now..." he continues, softly stroking at his guitar. "you're my fucking stepsister."

you don't know what to say to that. you always thought choso was attractive. is. he is attractive, but he's right. he's your step-brother and you can't think about him this way. shouldn't. but you do too.

those nights he would have his friends over for band practice, and he's shirtless in the garage, strumming away on his guitar. he noticed. he thought you were spying on his friends because every girl seemed to want his friends— they were alot more popular and social than him, but no. you were there to spy on him.

you once accidentally bumped into him as he was walking back to his room after a shower, tripping on his towel. you turned, but peaked for a split second before he yelled at you and ran off. his body was gorgeous and so was his flaccid length. it looked so perfect and cute. you went to your room and your hands found their way inside your panties, imagining choso would hear you next door and come over and ruin you.

"what if i wasn't?" you murmur to him. "what if we weren't family"

"but you are."

"not by blood."

"it's fucked up."

you nod through the covers. "but you still thought about it."

he doesn't deny it. choso sits up, setting his guitar down against the wall. "you shouldn't be in here. you should go."

you clutch the blanket and for some reason, your hands tremble. "do you want me to?"

he's silent for what feels like an eternity. "no."

and that's all it takes.

your hand reaches for his arm before your brain can stop you. his skin is warm under your fingers. the next thing you know, his lips are on yours. soft — hesitant, like he's afraid you'll pull away. but you don't.

"i shouldn't want this," he mumbles against your neck.

"but you do."

"...yeah"

"then shut up and kiss me again."

as much as he wants to, choso (regretfully) decides to takes his time with you and doesn't bend you over and fill you up :( he spends the night kissing and cuddling you and talking and pushing your worries away.

by the time your parents return home the next day and open his door to check on you guys, they smile. they're so happy you two are finally getting along. if only they knew the things choso was planning to do to you the next time he was home alone with his step sister.

[xyaehir]

sitting in bed, thinking about suna “i’m not reading all that” rintaro.

like the second he’s added into his volleyball groupchat, kita’s writing some long and detailed paragraphs about their new training regimen to practice for their next match.

suna “i’m not reading all that” rintaro taps on the notification and just stares for a good 10 seconds before leaving his message on seen and switching his phone off to go nap somewhere.

then the next day rolls around and he’s completely clueless about the new routine and frankly slightly worried about the long earful of a lecture kita’s going to give him.

but when you send him 3 detailed and double-spaced paragraphs ranting about what put you in a bad mood, suna “i’m not reading all that” rintaro is suddenly suna “fastest reader in the world” rintaro.

suna “fastest reader in the world” rintaro is immediately replying at the speed of light with his own paragraphs about how baffled he is that all those things happened to you.

and then atsumu does the same thing and suna “fastest reader in the world” rintaro is back to suna “i’m not reading all that” rintaro, reacting to his 8 paragraphs with a thumbs up.

if u tell me someone already thought of this istg. anyways, i love this middle blocker sm i need him to be WHIPPED and giving special treatment 😣 not edited cz its 3:02 am rn..

@xyaehir 2024. This is my content. Do not translate, copy or plagiarise my works in any way. Reblogs and likes are greatly appreciated! <3