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godmadeaterribleerror · 5 hours ago

Text

These Nights

Main Masterlist - Bucky Masterlist

Read on A03!

Tags: Bucky Barnes/Female Reader, shameless smut (blowjobs, fingering, p in v sex), light angst, tooth-rotting fluff, no use of y/n, pre-established relationship

Summary: There's never a moment where you and Bucky would wish to be apart, so when you are, you have to make up for lost time.

Author's Note: Your honor, I need him to hold me so bad.

Word Count: 3.3k

He’s home late. No later than usual, but late all the same. For about three hours, the only light in your apartment has been coming from the TV. For even longer, you’ve been doing all but nothing, shuffling around and picking things up, glancing at the door in the hopes that it will open, and Bucky will walk through.

You know he’s never gone longer than he has to be. He tells you all the time, that he’d always rather be home with you than anywhere else.

It doesn’t stop you missing him. From bunching up the blankets until they’re in a Bucky-Shape, using his body wash and wearing his shirt to pretend he’s a little closer than reality.

But he always does come home. Past midnight, but home.

And you’re always waiting up for him, no matter how many times he tells you not to.

Bucky calls your name as he opens the door, and you can hear his exhaustion in his voice.

“In the living room!” You call back, and he groans.

“You should be in bed, doll-“

“Then why’d you call for me?”

There’s a brief silence, and you can picture his adorable, grumpy frown. “Shut it. It’s almost one in the morning-“

“You’re up.”

He sighs, moving around somewhere down the hallway. “‘M sorry, sweetheart, we had to run the debrief-“

“I know, Buck. It’s okay,” you call back, glancing to the doorway. “You need stitches?”

“No.” He materialize from the dark, shuffling across the room and flopping over your body, his words muffled as he presses his face into your chest. “Already had ‘em.”

You scowl, slapping his back lightly. “That’s not funny, James-“

“It’s funny.” His arms wrap around you, not moving from where he’s sprawled over your body. “What’re we watchin’.”

“The news.”

He groans. “That’s so fuckin’ boring-“

You shrug, letting your fingers glide up to play with his hair. “I wanted to know if you were safe.”

Bucky pauses, turning his head to give you a sad, open look. It’s an expression he only reserves for you. Where you’re allowed to see all the heavy weight on his shoulders, the adoration he has for you pained on every feature, and the gaze of a tired man that never feels like he’s doing enough.

He always is.

But no matter how many times you tell him that, he doesn’t believe it. You’ll keep saying it until he does. Just like he’ll keep trying to alleviate your fears until you stop worrying.

“You know I always come back to you, doll.” He murmurs, taking his hand in yours, and you give him a small smile.

“I do.” You cup his face, keeping your words soft. “But I love you, James. I’m going to keep worrying.”

He sighs. “Can’t talk you into goin’ to bed, can I?”

“Maybe you can.” You shrug. “Are you going to bed with me?”

Bucky opens his mouth and you slam a hand over it.

“I- Sorry- Did you eat.”

He raises his brows, but shakes his head and you sigh.

“James-“

“I was trying to get back to my best girl.” He grumbles, prying your hand away. “We’ll do pancakes in the morning-“

“Or you can have the Chinese I got you, now.”

Bucky blinks at you. “You got me Chinese?”

You nod, and try to push to your feet. “Lemme go- Bucky-“

He’s on his feet faster than you ever could be, keeping you pinned to the couch as he leans down and presses a deep, slow kiss over your lips. You melt into the cushion, your hands darting up to hold his face, and he smiles against your lips.

“I’ll get it, babydoll.” He mutters, pressing a smaller kiss to your nose. “But you gotta go to bed-“

“I’ll go to bed when you go to bed.”

Bucky leans back to glare at you, but you just smile right back. That glare doesn’t work on you anymore. You might be the only person in the world who can win a starting contest with Sargent Grumpy, and he knows it, because he gives up with a sigh.

“Just-“ Bucky sighs, tracing metal fingers carefully over your cheekbones. “Don’t fight it, if you get tired. Alright?”

“Alright.” You whisper, giving him a small smile. “Go eat, Buck.”

He grunts, pressing a final, firm kiss to the top of your head, and ambles out of the living room.

It’s only a few minutes that he’s gone, but you shuffle restlessly all the same. The smell of him is so much stronger than the shirt or the shampoo. His warmth is so much heavier, and more comfortable, than the blanket. And you’ve been aching for him all night, enough that you’ll probably climb or ride him first thing in the morning, but you can settle for just contact tonight. Only his body pressed over yours, and his face planted back against your breasts. He’s tired. You care about him resting far more than you care about him flipping you onto your stomach and kissing up your spine, maybe massaging his hands on your thighs or swatting at your ass-

“I love you,” he grumbles your name as he returns, Chinese food in hand, and flops back over your body. “’S unbelievable, how much I love you. You gotta know that, doll. I’d so anything for you. Steal the moon, give you a thousand babies.”

You smile at him, tucking yourself into his side as he grabs the remote and switches off of the news. “You like the dumplings?”

“I like you.” He kisses the side of your head, and when you give him an amused look, he shrugs. “And the dumplings. They’re my favorite, doll. Thank you.”

“I know.” You hum, not bothering to look away from Bucky as he eats. He’s yours. You can stare at him—at the sharp line of his jaw and fullness of his lips—all you want. “A thousand babies is a lot.”

He swallows his bite, giving you a tiny grin. “Then we’ll start with just me fuckin’ one into you, and see where it goes.”

You make an incoherent, sleepy sound and Bucky chuckles, tugging you a little closer to his side. He’s taunting you. It’s too late in the evening for you to just straddle him and grind in his lap until he gives you all the attention you need. Rest. Tonight is about letting Bucky hold you against him and eat his Chinese food, grumbling at the TV whenever a character makes a stupid choice and getting high on his chuckles whenever you make a joke.

It would be nice if he could pretend this was all about him. If he didn’t keep feeding you some of his food, and rubbing circles on your arm that prickle heat over your skin. If every time he kissed you, he didn’t do it a whole lot deeper than he needed to, before biting the tips of your nose and laughing when you whack his chest. Looking so handsome in relaxes in the dark, the tired expression he had when he came through the door long gone.

Maybe you could touch him. He’s tugged you so you’re straddling his thigh, but that doesn’t mean this needs to be about you. You can feel his semi hard cock, pressed on your inner thigh. If you lean down and take him in your mouth, it can be about Bucky and not you-

“Bed?” He asks suddenly, and you’re not sure how long you’ve been staring at him in the dark. Given the openly amused expression on his face, probably longer than you want to admit.

You tilt your head at him. “Are you going to bed?”

He shrugs, your eyes narrow, and you slide a leg over his stomach.

Bucky groans, his hands flying to your hips. “C’mon doll, go to bed-“

“I need you there with me.” You hum, bracing your hands on his shoulders, and he sighs.

“I can’t sleep,” he mutters, dropping his brow to yours. “Long mission. And you know I’m not supposed to get in bed ‘less I’m gonna sleep.”

Fuck, that’s true. Some sleep psychology thing Sam made him go to last year, that you’d told all the New Avengers about so they could reinforce it when he was on overnight missions. Unless Bucky knows he’ll fall asleep, he can’t be in bed. Not if he’s going to stop sleeping on the floor for good.

But he can’t just stay up. The heaviness might be gone, but you can still see the bags under his eyes. And you’re tired yourself, and you won’t be able to sleep without him, but he’ll beat himself up if you sleep on the couch just to be near him.

So there are two options here. The first one is the meds—strong enough to knock out an elephant, and capable of making Bucky sleepy—and the second one is making him relax.

The second one is the better option.

Because then it’s not about you.

You trail your hand slowly down his chest, holding his gaze as you move. He has time to tell you no. That he’s too tired for what you’re obviously aiming for.

But Bucky’s eyes just remain on yours, his lips parting slightly as you rub his bulge through his pants, and his eyes darkening with an expression you know far too well.

Lust.

He mutters your name as you slowly undo his belt, hand flying up to cup your cheek. “You don’t have to-“

“Want to.” You pull his pants down, taking his underwear with them, and start to stroke Bucky’s cock to attention. “Please?”

He blinks at you slowly, a low groan escaping his throat as you lean down to kiss along his jaw. “You’re askin’ me to jerk me off?”

You hum. “And give you head.”

He grunts, his hips jerking at just the suggestion and you smile. “That’s not playing fair, doll-“

“Not trying to play fair.” You lean back, your smile growing at his hooded, ruined expression. “May I?”

His eyes flick down to where you’re slowly pumping him, your thumb rubbing over the tip of his cock, and he grunts. “Yeah. Fuckin’- Have to be insane to say no-“

You crash down, giving him a deep, comfortable kiss and giggling when he groans your name down your throat, his hands skimming feather-like touched up your side as you pick up your pace.

“Off.” He grunts, tugging at your shirt—his shirt—and you moan as his metal fingers start to roll your nipples with an expert precision. “Gotta see you, sweetheart.”

You lean back to undress, and take the opportunity to readjust entirely. Sliding off of Bucky’s lap to angle yourself to the side, helping him all the way out of his pants before-

“Shit-“ Bucky hisses your name as you take him in your mouth, his hand fisting carefully in your hair. “Jesus, warn me-“

You hum, pausing to look at him under your lashes, his cock still heavy on your tongue, and he groans.

“Don’t stop- Fuck-“

His hips buck up again as you swirl your tongue around the head of him, one hand still stroking the base of his cock as the other braces you up, and you let out a lewd, muffled moan as he bumps the back of your throat.

“Shit- Sorry, sweetheart- Christ-“

It didn’t bother you. If this wasn’t about Bucky relaxing, you would’ve guided him to just start fucking your face. But you’re doing all the work tonight, so you just hollow your cheeks, relax your jaw, and start to bob up and down. Making him bully your throat and shifting your hand to play with his balls, moaning around him whenever he jerks on your tongue and sucking him off like you’ve been starved.

But Bucky never gets the memo that this is supposed to be about him. Because suddenly, when you’re licking a strong line up his shaft before dropping down and choking on him, you feel a warm hand massaging your ass and teasing over your panties, right on-

You pull off of him with a sharp gasp as Bucky rubs your clit, and he just chuckles, running your hair between his fingers.

“Bucky-“

“C’mon, babydoll.” He drawls, tugging your hair until you’re looking up at him. “Can’t take it as good as you give it.”

You blink at him, almost falling forward as he leaves a light slap on your ass, your hand still mindlessly playing with his balls squeezing slightly.

Bucky hisses, landing another hit before rubbing his finger back over your clothed pussy. “Play nice, sweetheart.”

You moan, slumping into his body as he slowly pulls your panties to the side, teasing his fingers over your bare, soaking slit.

“Thought you wanted to suck me off, doll?” Bucky teases, and you twist to bury your burning face in his stomach. “Begged me for it, too.”

“Buck,” you whisper, wiggling your ass in the air and whining when you get another light slap. “I need it, please-“

“I know you do, gorgeous.” He tugs your hair again, making you pull back from hiding. “Keep that perfect mouth on my cock and I’ll take care of you.”

You nod mindlessly, wrapping your lips back over his dick, and you’re immediately rewarded with Bucky’s fingers sliding into your cunt.

And he didn’t lie. He never lies to you.

You keep him in your mouth, sucking and moaning around him as he slowly fucks you with his fingers, and you might cum from just his voice. Drawling praise above you and moaning whenever you swallow around him, hisses your name whenever your tongue swirls around him, and-

“There you go,” he hums, his free hand still tangled in your hair as his hips start to jerk up, and you whine around him. “So fuckin’ wet for me, look so pretty when you’re takin’ me like a good girl, gonna fuck you ‘till you can’t walk-“

You moan at the promise, grinding up into the air, and Bucky chuckles.

“Like that, babydoll? Want me to stuff you full of my cock, let me fuck you stupid and sweet-“

He’s starting to slur his words, and you can taste the pre-cum, falling out of your lips with your drool. He’s close. It lights an extra fire in you, and you start to suck him off like there’s no tomorrow. Bucky moans, loud and echoing through the dark, and his fingers in your pussy falter for only a second before his efforts double. His hand twists so he can scissor his fingers in your cunt, his thumb finding your clit and starting to rub rapid, mind-numbing circles.

The coil in your gut snaps right as Bucky presses his thumb down, and you squeeze his fingers as he pumps you through your orgasm. It seems to spark his own release, because a groan of your name and slightly tug of your hair up is the only warning you get before Bucky’s cum shoots right into your throat. You try to swallow, but his fingers are crooking and rubbing on that spot deep inside of you, and you can feel a second orgasm rising up.

The dam breaks right as he yanks you fully off his cock, tugging you up into a wet, hot kiss and biting on your lower lip. You scream his name as you squirt over his hand, and he groans, already half-hard cock pressing against your stomach as you grind down onto his hand.

You shudder in his arms, a weak whine leaving your throat as his fingers pull out, and there’s a second where you both just stare at each other in the dark. You’re still aching, and the serum means he can go all night, and he did say he’d fuck you.

He tips your head back slightly, pressing those same fingers that were just inside you on your lower lips. You hold his gaze as you take them in your mouth, sucking them with just as much fervor as you gave his cock, and he groans.

“You got more in you,” he mutters your name, voice dripping with lust, and you nod frantically. “Wanna-“

“Bed.” You whisper, pulling back with a pleading look. “Or just here-“

Your words die in a yelp as Bucky stands, keeping you steady in his arms, and marches you right to your room. He kisses you as he stops at the foot of the bed, never breaking it as he lowers you both down to the mattress. The only half second, he pulls away is to pull his shirt off his head and toss in into a corner, before raising your legs up to help you out of your panties.

He groans at the sight of the mess between your legs, stroking his cock as he kisses on your calf, and lowers your leg down back down to the bed. “So pretty, babydoll. Gonna fuck you so good, promise.”

You don’t get a chance to respond before he’s falling back over you, capturing your mouth in a rough kiss before slowly guiding himself into your pussy. He moans as you flutter around him, leaning back to scan over your face for any discomfort, and you give him is a tiny nod and roll of your hips.

“More.” You gasp, fingers curling on his chest. “More, Bucky-“

He groans, kissing the words out of your mouth, and start to roll his hips, fucking you lazily. Slowly.

But he picks up the pace. You don’t have to beg or whine for him, Bucky always picks up his pace. Starting with hungrier, deeper kisses and tiny love-bites, before becoming a careful but firm grip on your hips, angling them up to give himself a better angle.

Then you moan his name, and he slams against that deep spot only he can ever reach. Your back arches off the bed with a gasp, Bucky groans your name as you flutter around his cock, and the speed picks up. The bed creaking under him as he fucks you, really properly fucks you, and you’re flying out of your skin as he groans against your throat, his mouth diving down to wrap around a nipple and sucking. You yank on his hair when his tongue does that maddening swirl and flick, and he start to groan, the sound vibrating thorough your body.

You cum together. Bucky’s lips press right over yours as he pulls out one last time, slams in with a groan, and you come apart in his arms. Your head spins with pleasure as he cums inside of you, kissing all over your face and rubbing his hands in slow circles on your hips as he lets you ease back down.

“Shower?” He grunts in your ear, and you nod, your hands rubbing over his back.

It glides by so easily, in the soft, comfortable bliss of Bucky’s presence. He helps you to the bathroom so you can pee, turning on the shower and waiting for you to be ready before guiding you into the warm water. By the time you’re both clean the mist has gotten to your head, and sleep is tugging at your eyes. You’d fight it, if you couldn’t feel Bucky humming as he washes your hair. You try to return the favor, but he just keeps you pinned against his chest, kissing over your neck.

He climbs into bed with you, after helping you dry off. Wrapped around you and out before you can even really register it. He’s a silent sleeper, but you know the difference. He’s relaxed, draped over you, and breathing deeply as you start to drift off.

Home.

He always comes home.

End Note: I think writing this kickstarted my ovulation.

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caotictimmy · 8 months ago

Note

if you're doing mouthwashing can i have daisuke x reader hcs plz... just pretend the tulpar never crashed i want him to be happy hjdkjkdsjg

OMG ANON…you get me. Daisuke has me in a CHOKEHOLD. Ok so here are how the headcanons are gonna go. Pre dating/confession. Dating and NSFW. I had another anon ask me to do NSFW head canons with daisuke. So why not kill two birds with one stone. The regular head canon r gonna be Gn. But the NSFW are gonna have some AFAB stuff. Still can kinda be read as Gn.

Crushing - Confession

- I believe Daisuke crushing on you would be a very, you fell first, but he fell harder kinda thing.

- I think that because Daisuke can be well.. a bit dense (still love him though). That he’s not really gonna pick up on any hints or flirting. So you kinda of have to wait till he realizes he likes you.

- When he does realize he likes you is probably when you were sticking up for him against Swansea(I love you Swansea but you still were mean to Daisuke🙁).

- It’s gonna be easy to tell when he likes you. This man is gonna be so obvious😭🙏

- We all know he’s eager to please right? He’s doing this with you 2 times more. Always asking if you needed anything, he’d be right on it.

-Little things to. I’m talking some laying his shirt over a puddle for you to step on. I feel like he tries to woe you with these gestures.(and it works)

- Daisuke loves listening to your voice. No matter how your voice sounds. He’ll go out of his ways to find you to ramble on about something. He thinks you look and sound cute rambling. o(^w^)o

- Also I think he just likes looking at you. There have been MANY times where Swansea has smacked Daisuke in the back of the head, cause he got sidetrack staring at you with this very lovesick grin. Staring like you personally hung the stars for him.

- Daisuke would be a bit too nervous to think of confessing first. So Swansea would definitely be pushing him to confess. He’s tired of seeing you two ogling at each other and doing nothing about it😒.

- Our sly little man some how convinced Curly to make a cake for him to give you. (I swear on my life curly is a die hard romantic but I’m saving that for when I do headcanons on him later)

- I feel like Daisuke would sneak in your room. Waiting for you to enter. When you do he lifts up the cake in his hands, “ Imadeyouthiscakewillyoudateme” He rambled out. Being scared you would say no.

- But when you say yes. I’m not kidding he shouted “WHOO HOO!!!”. It was very funny. Daisuke would quickly put the cake down and rush to hug you,

Dating

- I feel like the affection he likes to receive is words of affection and physical contact. And for what he usually gives. Acts of service and physical affection. Let me explain

-(Daisuke receiving) It’s a bit obvious that Daisuke probably hasn’t gotten a lot of praise in his life. So I believe that he absolutely melts when you give him these encouraging words. It can range from a lot. From a small, “good job” to a “I love you so much, no matter what.”. It makes him so happy like you don’t even understand.

-(Daisuke receiving) Idk it’s just a an itch in my brain telling me. I think he likes all kinds of physical affection. From holding his pinky, to wrapping you arms and legs around him cuddling. If it insures some sort of touching he’s down. I also think he like resting his head on either your thighs, or chest. Resting his eyes. PLEASE scratch his head or tangle your fingers through his hair. He loves it so much. Like it calms him down so much.

-(Daisuke giving) You can’t tell me this man isn’t at least a bit clingy. Not in a “if you talk to someone else I’ll kill them” type of way but a “ you make me feel safe and secure” kind of way. Does that make sense? Anyways, he loves flopping onto you when he sees you laying down. Like I’m talking full rag doll flop. I fully believe he brought a stuff animal on the ship. So he fully treats you like a stuff animal. Quick random switch. I don’t think he likes being the small spoon. Only because I feel like he needs to sleep holding something. I don’t think he would mind being big spoon. But overall he prefers you two facing each other.

-(Daisuke giving) We all know he has a knack for trying to be as helpful as he can. We can see that when he tried to fix the vent! To trying to crawl up it to save Anya… guys I can’t do this anymore. ANYWAYS. This man does not want you to lift a FINGER. He is so head over heels inlove with you. He’ll do anything for you. He’ll ask him to bring you a star and he’d ask which one. LIKE HE LOVES YOU SM AND JUST WANTS TO SEE YOU HAPPY.

- He loves kissing. Receiving and giving. From a simple peck, to kissing your face all over. He just loves it so much. He finds it so romantic. Listen hear me out. Non sexual neck kissing. He could be waking up before you(highly unlikely). Softly kissing your neck to wake you up. Just soft and sweet.

- Late night talks are a must with him. It could be about anything really. From what plot twist you guys thought would happen on the shitty soap opera you guys were watching. What ifs, what your guys future would look like, what you guys would be if you were animals. The topics you guys talk about are far and wide. But he enjoys the comfort of being by you.

- You can’t tell me this man isn’t a big back. Daisuke definitely brought a bunch of snacks with him. So he will happily share with you. He is a very giving person. But also expect to get your food stolen sometimes.. make sure you get extra food in your plate to give him the rest. He would appreciate it a lot!!!!!:3

- He also really loves spending anytime he can with you. Especially if it involves games. Let me tell you. YOU DO NOT WANNA PLAY DRESS TO IMPRESS WITH THIS MAN. He would cook you so hard in the game it’s not even funny. He’s literally in the top 10 players in dress to impress.

NSFW - DO NOT READ IF YOUR A MINOR OR UNCOMFORTABLE WITH NSFW (AFAB)

- Praise kink. YOU GUYS CANT TELL ME I’M WRONG. You guys could water board me. Scream at me that I’m wrong. Every time you praise him when y’all are getting freaky. Busting. Like it gets him going SO HARD (pun intended) Like omg… Especially if you praise his efforts/ how good he’s doing. Pray that you’ll be able to walk after.

- This man is LOUD…… grunting, whimpering, moaning, panting. Any noise you can think of hes made it. Like he doesn’t even think of suppressing his noises. He also doesn’t want you to either! He loves hearing you. He thinks the louder you are = the better he’s doing. So please don’t suppress your noises he’ll get so sad:(. But back to the topic. This man needs something to muffle him. Wether that be kissing you, or lightly nibbling your neck. When he starts to get to loud you need to find a way to shut him up.

-Speaking of loud Swansea has definitely caught you guys once’s. Y’all were a bit to loud and he was wonder what was going on and… Let’s just say he wasn’t able to look at you guys for a bit. But after he gave Daisuke a fist bump. Man to man🗣️🗣️🗣️

- Daisuke is willing to try almost everything. I full heartedly believe this man is a virgin. The furthest he’s ever gone is making out. So he’s eager to learn! He was a bit nervous your guys first time. But after a bit that nervousness dissolved into eagerness! I don’t think he’d be into hurting you badly. And I don’t think he likes pain that much either. But I think he would like his hair being pulled. Or maybe you lightly scratching his back.

- I think he would be open to having sex not just in your rooms. Either in random room barely used. Or a couple of times on the couch when everyone was in their sleeping quarters. Thankfully you guys weren’t caught!!! But Curly was wondering what that clear sticky substances was on the couch…

-(AFAB) Munch no question asked. LISTEN WHEN I SAW HE WANTED AN EXTRA PACK OF SWEETENER I IMMEDIATELY THOUGHT BIG BACK MUNCH BEHAVIOR. Also because this man loves to please. DO YALL SEE ME VISION. This man who’ll slurp it up like no tomorrow. His favorite made is your pleasure is his pleasure. But omg like he gets so into eating you out it’s not even funny… You have to pry his face away from your core. And he looks so hot. His hair a mess. His eyes dazed but still has that love in them. And your juice all over his face like…

- He doesn’t have a favorite position. He likes way too many. And when you asked him what position he liked the most, he only responded with, “how can I pick a favorite when there all so good, and what about the ones we haven’t tried yet!” Safe to say you guys went to go try some more positions 😜

- I know I’ve been doing really freaky headcanons but I think Daisuke loves soft sex and morning sexy to. Maybe the morning after a bad day HES still feeling bad. You both are still groggy but you have time before you have to get up. Hell sink himself into. Before thrusting as his arms are wrapped around your waist. His hot breath on your neck, as he trailed kisses all along it. Just because he can be a freak doesn’t mean he can’t be really soft either.

- Daisuke loves cock warming. Try. Try to prove me wrong. He loves cuddling. He loves being as close to you as possible. What’s better than combining the two! But after a bit he does get a bit impatient and starts to subtly thrust. He really is trying to not to be you feel to good!

Authors note: SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG. I STARTED THIS WHEN I GOT HOME AND FELL ASLEEP MID WAY THROUGH WRITING THIS. Again sorry for request being slow I’m trying my best😭🙏

#mouthwash smut #mouthwashing smut #mouthwash x reader #daisuke mouthwashing #mouthwashing #daisuke smut #mouthwashing x reader #mouthwashing game #mouthwash game #mouthwash #daisuke x reader

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kxsagi · 3 months ago

Note

can you write something with the blue lock boys where the reader just tackles them in a hug, giving them a quick big squeeze before running away giggling to themselves

“𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 (𝐢𝐧 𝐡𝐮𝐠𝐬)”

a/n: THE FLUFF I NEEDED

ft. itoshi rin, isagi yoichi, itoshi sae, nagi seishiro, mikage reo, chigiri hyoma, bachira meguru, kaiser michael, ness alexis, shidou ryusei, karasu tabito, otoya eita, yukimiya kenyu

itoshi rin

you tackle-hug him from the side and he just freezes like a cat that got surprised.

“... what was that?”

he watches you run away and roll around giggling like a gremlin and just blinks.

pretends it didn’t affect him. but he’s dead silent for the next ten minutes with ears red and a hand over the place you hugged.

texts you later like: don’t do that in public again. but you can do it again later. privately. maybe.

(he secretly loved it.)

isagi yoichi

bro malfunctions.

like you tackle-hug him and he just short circuits, arms frozen mid-air, eyes wide.

“huh? wait, hey! where are you going?!”

he starts laughing halfway through the sentence because your giggles are contagious.

ends up chasing you around like it’s tag. the moment he catches you, he returns the hug, but longer, tighter.

“you think you can just do that and run off?”

yes. yes you do. and you’ll do it again.

itoshi sae

he’s scrolling on his phone, completely unsuspecting. you hug-slam him and bolt.

he almost drops his phone.

“... you’re so weird.”

but he’s smiling. real soft. real fond.

instead of chasing you, he just walks over, catches you effortlessly mid-giggle, and holds you hostage in a calm, smug hug.

“you thought you were fast, huh?”

you are. just not faster than sae “calm menace” itoshi.

nagi seishiro

you run at him and squish him in a big hug and then disappear in a blur of laughter.

he stands there with his hair flopped over his face like ???

“huh… was that a dream?”

slowly turns his head and watches you wheeze in the corner.

doesn’t say anything, just shuffles over like a lazy zombie and collapses on you with his version of a tackle-hug.

“my turn. you woke me up for this, might as well finish it.”

mikage reo

squealed. actually squealed.

“babe!! what?!”

you zoom off before he can recover, and he’s left giggling with his whole face lit up.

immediately starts planning revenge (but like, romantic revenge. think rose petals and counter-hugs.)

posts a blurry selfie of you running away with the caption: my heart can’t take this kind of sneak attack 😭💜

you’re now banned from hugging him without a warning. he says this while opening his arms anyway.

chigiri hyoma

you charge and hug-tackle him and he stumbles a bit, but catches you halfway.

“what the hell?”

you sprint off laughing and he just stands there… stunned.

and then he SMIRKS.

“alright. you wanna play?”

you’ve accidentally started a high-speed game of “hug and run” where he catches you every time.

it ends with both of you rolling around on the floor, laughing and out of breath.

bachira meguru

he loved it.

you tackle-hug him and he giggles even louder than you do.

“wha?! hey! that was so cute, come back!!”

immediately chases you. you’ve started something you can’t finish.

when he catches you, it turns into a tickle war or a wrestling match.

“let’s make it a game. whoever gives the best hug wins.”

you’ve created a monster. a very affectionate one.

kaiser michael

you hit him with a surprise hug and he almost trips, dramatic gasp included.

“gott, schatz, are you trying to kill me with cuteness?”

he watches you run away laughing and just smirks.

“fine. you wanna play this game?”

proceeds to stalk you through the penthouse like a hunter, waiting for his moment.

when he does catch you, expect a long smug cuddle where you’re not allowed to escape. ever.

ness alexis

you come flying in like a giggling rocket and tackle-hug him mid-sentence.

“wah!! wh-what was that for?!”

arms flail. voice cracks. man is shaken.

watches you scamper off while wheezing, and just stands there pink in the face, clutching his chest like you stole his soul.

“you can’t just–! you can’t do that and then RUN!!”

stumbles after you, muttering about how “his heart can’t handle these kinds of jump scares.”

once he catches you, he hugs you back ten times tighter and refuses to let go.

“next time you pull something like that, i’m gluing you to my side.”

secretly loves it. replaying it in his head for the next 3-5 business days.

shidou ryusei

you full-on launch yourself into him like a cannonball.

“OH?!” he catches you with a wide grin, immediately intrigued.

you giggle and sprint away and he’s instantly chasing after you like it’s a game of tag.

“YOU WANNA PLAY, BABY? HELL YEAH.”

accidentally turns it into a wrestling match halfway through.

you: “it was just a hug!!”

him: “you touched me first, now i’m feral.”

ends with him piggybacking you through the house, refusing to let you touch the ground again.

karasu tabito

you tackle-hug him from behind and he jumps in surprise.

“yo?! what the hell?”

turns around to see you giggling and skipping away like you didn’t just send him into cardiac arrest.

smirks and calls after you: “you better run faster than that, sweetheart.”

starts following you slowly like a villain in a horror movie.

finally grabs your wrist with one hand, pulls you back for revenge with a lazy smile.

“payback’s gonna be fun.”

otoya eita

oh you hug-tackled the right man.

he immediately spins around and flirts back like you just proposed.

“if you wanted to be in my arms that bad, you could’ve just asked, baby.”

watches you scamper off and laughs to himself, clutching his chest like he’s lovestruck.

“adorable and bold? dangerous combo, angel.”

finds you later and sneaks up behind you with a slow, smooth hug.

“my turn. don’t run this time, yeah?”

yukimiya kenyu

you hug him out of nowhere, and he lets out a soft “ah!” before you disappear like a thief in the night.

stands there dazed for a second, adjusting his glasses, cheeks flushed pink.

“that was… very unexpected.”

lowkey dying inside. you just made his entire week.

when he sees you again, he gives you a small smile and softly says, “thank you for the hug. i’ll be stealing one back now, if that’s okay.”

ends up giving you the gentlest yet most heartfelt squeeze ever.

“next time, maybe stay a little longer.”

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jungwnies · 2 months ago

Text

f1 grid (2/2) | two string bathing suit

୨ৎ : featuring : kimi antonelli, ollie bearman, yuki tsunoda, isack hadjar, liam lawson, and lance stroll (click here for part one) ୨ৎ : synopsis (requested by anon) : your f1!boyfriend reacting to you showing him two strings as a bathing suit (tiktok trend - click for reference)

୨ৎ : genre : romance comedy ୨ৎ : tws : slightly suggestive ୨ৎ : word count : 1706

୨ৎ masterlist ୨ৎ

ᡣ𐭩 a/n : lance stroll has been officially added as per request >.<

ʚ・kimi antonelli

you peeked around the corner into the hotel room, barely holding in your laughter. kimi was lounging on the bed, headphones on, scrolling his phone with that focused little frown he always wore when he was pretending not to care.

“kimi,” you called sweetly, hiding the tiny bundle of yarn behind your back. “got my race weekend bikini for the yacht. wanna see?”

he looked up instantly. “yeah, sure.”

you stepped out.

and revealed it.

kimi sat up like someone had just smacked him with a steering wheel. his eyes locked on the two limp strings dangling from your hand. there was a long silence. he looked personally attacked.

“…that’s it?”

you nodded, holding it up like a trophy. “cute, right?”

his entire face turned red. “that’s not—where’s the rest of it?!”

“this is it. full coverage.” you twirled it dramatically. “very ‘high fashion.’”

kimi blinked so hard you thought he might pass out. “i can’t handle this.”

you burst out laughing. “so you hate it?”

“i—no! i mean, it’s not like—it’s just—” he ran a hand through his hair, face burning. “that’s barely string! you can’t wear that!”

“but what if i did wear it?”

he stared at you, scandalized. “you’d cause an incident. i’d get black-flagged emotionally.”

you walked closer, waving the bikini in front of him. “so you wouldn’t let me wear it?”

“i’d let you wear it in a locked vault, maybe,” he muttered, grabbing a pillow and burying his face in it.

you flopped beside him on the bed, laughing as he groaned dramatically. “you’re evil.”

“you’re dramatic.”

“i’m right. that’s not a bikini, that’s a cry for help.”

ʚ・ollie bearman

you strutted into the hotel room like you were doing a runway walk, holding a suspiciously small bag in one hand. ollie was mid-bite of a granola bar, half-watching some race replay on the tv.

“babe,” you said sweetly. “i got a new swimsuit for the weekend.”

he looked up with zero hesitation. “show me.”

you reached into the bag and slowly, dramatically, pulled out two strings.

that was it.

just… two strings.

ollie blinked. “ha-ha. okay. where’s the rest of it?”

“this is it.”

his mouth opened. no words came out.

you held it up. “don’t you like it?”

he made a sound somewhere between a choke and a laugh. “i—yeah, of course i do, you look amazing in anything, but babe. babe. i can see my future falling apart.”

you walked closer, biting back a smile. “so you do like it.”

“i like it in the way that i like setting things on fire. fun, but dangerous. for my health.”

he rubbed his hands over his face. “you’re gonna kill me. actually kill me. like, emotionally and legally. i’m gonna go to jail because of that bikini.”

you stepped even closer, brushing the string against his arm. “what if i wore it to the hotel pool?”

he made a noise. loud. “i’m calling security. you need to be escorted back into real clothes.”

you burst out laughing. he looked at you, wide-eyed and flushed, then grinned. “you know what? wear it.”

you blinked. “wait, what?”

he leaned in with a cocky little smirk. “wear it. but only if you let me be your lifeguard.”

you blinked harder. “ollie—”

“you’re gonna need saving,” he winked. “from me.”

ʚ・yuki tsunoda

you stepped into the hotel room like you were about to drop a bomb. yuki was curled up on the couch in a hoodie, munching on chips and half-watching a replay of his onboard camera.

“babe,” you said, holding up a suspiciously flat little package. “new bikini just came in.”

without looking up: “yeah? show me.”

“that’s not a bikini,” he said carefully, like he was speaking to a wild animal. “that’s—no. no. what?”

you held it up. “it’s trendy!”

“it’s thread,” he hissed, standing up like the strings offended him on a spiritual level. “that’s not clothes. that’s… dental floss in distress!”

you fought a grin. “i think it’s cute.”

“you think crime is cute?”

you walked closer, holding it up to your body with a mock pose. “so i can’t wear it to the pool?”

yuki stared at you for three full seconds. “if you wear that to the pool, i will fake an injury to stay in the room and make sure no one else sees you.”

“that’s a little dramatic.”

“you’re dramatic! what happens if it unravels? what happens if there’s a breeze?!”

you giggled, reaching for his hoodie drawstrings and tugging him toward you. “you’re panicking.”

“i’m not panicking,” he said firmly. “i’m just… concerned. deeply. as a boyfriend. and a citizen.”

you tilted your head. “so i can’t wear it?”

he sighed, long and slow, then muttered something under his breath in japanese that definitely included the word “dangerous.”

then he looked up at you with wide, slightly desperate eyes. “you can wear it. inside. with the curtains closed. while i hold the emergency blanket just in case.”

you grinned. “so you do like it.”

“i never said that,” he huffed, pulling you into his hoodie-covered arms. “i said i need time to emotionally recover.”

ʚ・isack hadjar

you barely got two steps into the hotel room before isack glanced up from his phone.

“what’s that look?” he asked suspiciously, eyes narrowing.

“i got a new bikini,” you said innocently, holding up a little mesh bag.

he scoffed, lounging back on the bed. “are you going to show me something i haven’t seen?”

you pulled it out.

two strings. two. one knot. a whisper of fabric. that’s it.

there was silence.

then:

“mon dieu.” he shot upright like he’d been electrocuted.

you tried to stifle your laugh. “it’s couture!”

“that’s not couture, that’s catastrophe.” he was already pacing. “who sold you this? who approved this?! was it made by… criminals?”

he grabbed a pillow and threw it onto the bed dramatically. “you want to wear this? in public?!”

you shrugged. “maybe.”

he clutched his chest like you had physically wounded him. “do you hate me? is this a test? is this revenge for that time i forgot your fries?”

you walked toward him, bikini still dangling from your fingers. “so… you don’t want me to wear it?”

he blinked. hesitated. swallowed.

“okay,” he said, exhaling. “you can wear it. but only if i walk ten feet behind you with a stick to chase away the men.”

“romantic,” you teased.

“i will fight for your honor.”

you leaned in, brushing a kiss to his cheek. “you’re such a drama queen.”

he glared at the swimsuit one more time, muttering in rapid french about “scandals” and “yarn” and “the end of society.”

then: “…but you would look hot in it. i’m not blind.”

ʚ・liam lawson

“what’s going on,” he asked immediately. “you’re doing that face. the chaos face.”

“i bought a new bikini,” you said sweetly, holding up a very small, very questionable package.

he raised an eyebrow. “why does it look like you bought it from a fishing supplies store?”

you opened it.

and dropped the strings onto the bed.

liam stared at the two strands of fabric like they had personally betrayed him. then looked at you. then back at them.

“…cool,” he said finally. “so you’ve given up on fabric entirely. that’s where we are.”

you smirked. “it’s fashion.”

“it’s fabricophobia.”

“minimalist.”

“no, missing.”

you picked it up, twirled it around your finger. “so i can’t wear it on the yacht?”

he squinted. “you could. you might also get arrested. or knighted. i’m not really sure how monaco works anymore.”

you walked closer, holding it up to your body like it was an award. “you don’t think i’d look good?”

“oh no, you’d look phenomenal. that’s the problem.” he crossed his arms, leaning against the wall like he was considering relocating to another dimension. “if you wear that, i’m gonna have to fight like four yacht guys named jean-luc.”

you laughed, and he tilted his head, smiling.

“you’re a menace,” he said fondly. “but like… a hot one.”

“so you’re letting me wear it?”

“yeah. just tell me when and where so i can book a one-way flight off this planet.”

you stepped closer. “aw, are you jealous?”

he raised a brow. “i’m prepared. there’s a difference.”

you grinned. “i’ll take that as a yes.”

“cool. can’t wait to explain to security why i’m tackling people at the hotel pool.”

ʚ・lance stroll

you walked into the villa with a sleek little shopping bag in hand and a suspicious sparkle in your eye. lance was lounging on the sofa, drink in hand, sunglasses still on indoors like the heir to a fashion dynasty.

“i got something for the yacht,” you said sweetly.

he didn’t even look up. “is it another bathing suit? you have like thirty.”

“yep. except this one is perfect, i do wish it was smaller though.”

“nice. lemme see.”

you pulled it out.

he did a double take so fast his sunglasses nearly flew off.

“…you want this…smaller?” he sat up slowly. “no, seriously. where’s the rest of it?”

you held up the two strings like they were trophies. “trendy, right?”

“that looks like something my grandma’s cat coughed up.”

you grinned. “but imagine me wearing it. on the yacht.”

“i am imagining it. that’s the problem.” he leaned forward, elbows on his knees, staring at the “swimsuit” like it owed him money. “there’s gonna be fifty people on that boat. i’ll have to throw them all off.”

“you’re being dramatic.”

“i’m being realistic.”

you giggled, walking over to stand between his knees. “so you’re saying no?”

lance stared at you for a long moment. then he nodded.

“alright,” he said, completely serious. “we’re going to mars.”

you blinked. “what.”

“you wanna wear that? fine. i’ll buy us a spaceship.”

you burst out laughing, but he was still just looking up at you, shaking his head like you’d genuinely broken something in him.

“you’re out here in two pieces of string and a prayer, and i’m supposed to cope?”

“so… you do think i look hot.”

“oh, absolutely,” he said, pulling you into his lap with a sigh. “but i’m rich enough to not share. so start packing. spacesuits only.”

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clarkeysbedchem · 7 months ago

Text

late night talking

george clarke x fem reader

summary: george yaps whilst you try to sleep

main masterlist | masterlist

The bedroom was quiet aside from the hum of the fan that was cooling the room along side the drumming of George’s fingers on the duvet. He was sat with his back against the headboard and his knee bent, his gaze dropped down to your sleeping figure.

George gently tapped your shoulder making you stir as you tried to fight waking up, “Are you awake?” He asked through a whisper.

You murmured a ‘no’ pulling the quilt over your head trying to fall back to sleep.

George hummed turning his attention back to the ceiling as he started to drum on his knees again.

You rolled your eyes flipping over burying your head into curve of your boyfriends waist, George smiled letting his hand dropped to your hip.

As you slowly drifted back to sleep you were jolted back awake as you felt a jab into your rib, “George.” You grumbled, “go to sleep, please.”

“I can’t sleep.”

“Why?”

You felt the bed wiggle indicating that he shrugged. You flopped over onto your back with a huff, “Go on then.”

George grinned reaching over you to turn the lamp on before you glanced over at him, “Imagine if there was an apocalypse,” he started, you squeezed your eyes shut pretending to imagine it making a giggle leave George’s lips, “who would you choose to be on your team?”

“How many people can I have?”

“Four people.”

“Okay,” you nodded, tapping your chin as you thought carefully, “you obviously.”

George pumped his fist in the air celebrating, “I would’ve been so offended if you didn’t pick me.”

You laughed shimmying closer to him, “And then I’d pick Liv because otherwise I’d be bored.”

A chuckle left George’s mouth as he started to play with your hair twirling it softly between his fingers, “Two more people.”

“Bach, so Liv doesn’t get lonely.” You added, thinking through your list of friends trying to decide who else you would pick, “and then I’d pick maybe…”

You hummed, “I don’t know who else I would pick.”

“Neither of the Arthur’s?” George asked curiously.

You shook your head with a laugh, “no, tv would be too analytical for me, and hill is injured and would whine the whole time.”

George let out a laugh making you smile up at him, “What about Chris?”

“Maybe,” you nodded, thinking about it for a moment, “Alright, I’d take Chris because he can cook.”

“Fair enough.”

You looked over at your boyfriend expectantly waiting for his answer, “What about you, princess?” You teased, earning a glare from your boyfriend.

“If we’re thinking in a practical sense; I’d take Reev, Harry, and Chris.” He answered, counting them out on his fingers, “But if we’re talking in a don’t care if i die way; I’d take you…”

“Yeah. brilliant, thank you.” You grumbled, crossing your arms over your chest earning a laugh.

“And then I’d take Arthur Hill, Max and probably Arthur TV as well.”

You gave him a sarcastic smile, “that’s lovely.”

George laughed once again moving to lay down, “I have another question.”

You nodded turning on your side to face him, “What’s that?”

“When did you realise you wanted to be with me?” He asked, looking into your eyes adoringly noticing your cheeks darken at the question.

You shrugged your shoulders, “I don’t know.” You muttered, dropping your head down, “I always found you attractive I guess.”

“Obviously.” He joked, ticking your waist making you squirm.

“Stop,” you pushed his hand away with a laugh, “Maybe after my birthday.”

“What? This year? Honey, we’ve been together for 2 years.”

You slapped his bicep gently, “be serious will you.”

“After my 21st, we had been talking for a few months at that point, and you were chatting away to my parents and dancing with my baby sister and it just made me think of you differently.”

George smiled softly at you brushing your hair from your face, “That’s cute.” He cooed, kissing your forehead softly.

“Yeah, yeah.” You hummed, turning around so your back was pressed against his chest, “can I go back to sleep now?”

“Of course.” He smiled, kissing the crown of your head before turning off the lamp.

#masterlist #george clarkey #george clarke #george clarke fics #george clarkey x reader #george clarke x reader #arthur hill #chrismd #fluff #italianbach #the sidemen #arthur frederick #arthurtv #british youtubers #harry lewis

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luveline · 4 months ago

Note

can I pls request: dad!spencer and his baby boy getting antsy and weepy but spencer not knowing what’s wrong until you come back from a long case and then he’s fine straight away

—Spencer and his baby miss you like crazy for 3k, fem

Things have been hot garbage since Monday. Saturday night and all Spencer wants is one good day, where Jude doesn’t cry, and Spencer doesn’t feel sick. Saturday morning it went on for hours —Jude started crying because his bottle was prematurely empty and he didn’t stop, the sobs petering into weeps, sniffly wet nose pressed to Spencer’s neck, then his chest, then his forehead. Poor boy can’t stay still.

Spencer hasn’t eaten properly since you left. He can’t get more than a couple of mouthfuls in before Jude is protesting his own meal or snack and flopping sadly into a Jude-puddle.

Spencer has suggested dinner again, because not eating makes you sad, but Jude doesn’t care what it does and Spencer puts electrolytes in his juice. He offers extra time at the swimming pool and the library, and he plays soccer outside despite terrible coordination because Jude loves to score. Nothing lasts long enough. Jude spends half of his waking time morose and clingy, the other hiding under beds or in the kitchen cabinet under the sink. Spencer makes him an appointment with the pediatrician for Wednesday morning.

The waiting is agony.

“I don’t think you should worry about it until you go,” you say down the phone, “you know that worrying twice is pointless. Not that you shouldn’t worry at all, I know it’s scary, but there’s nothing you can’t handle, Spence.”

“If Jude is sick I definitely can’t handle that.”

“Yes, you can. Don’t be stupid.”

Stupid said very softly. Spencer misses your voice. He tries to go on cases but if they look too long, he stays home, ‘cos who does he trust enough to take care of Jude besides himself? There was one time where you stayed with Jude for a two-nighter just because you wanted to and Spencer missed being with the BAU, but he missed Jude more while he was there than he missed the work. He’s a professional consultant now, and it’s fine. He loves his life. He still goes to the office and sees his friends for coffee, and he gets to be with Jude all the time. If something happened to him…

“He’s just not himself, it’s–” breaking my heart.

“Emily said we’re a half hour from touching down in Quantico, I’ll come over?”

Spencer didn’t consider you going home to your own place, but he should’ve. “Please. Maybe you can get through to him, or figure out what it is that’s making him so sad.”

“What's he been eating?”

“Nothing.” Spencer rubs his eyebrow and the headache there roughly. “Uh, he can’t stop himself from eating those carrot puffs. If you get a couple of those on the way in I’ll pay you back.”

“Honey, I can buy the baby some snacks. What about you, are you eating?”

“Not really,” he confesses quietly.

“Anything you fancy?”

He grins at your phrasing and your light tones. Maybe when Jude is a little older, a lot older, Spencer could go with you again.

“Can you get me those chilli tortilla chips, please?”

“And salsa?”

“Please, if you don’t mind.”

“I love all the snacks you love,” you laugh, “did you want something sweet, too? I really crave a three musketeers.”

“That’s the worst candy bar you could’ve picked.”

“It is not. And for that you aren’t getting one.”

Spencer laughs and sways Jude’s attention from the movie. He frowns at Spencer as if to say, What’s so funny? I’m miserable. And Spencer feels more sorry for him than anyone in the whole wide world. “What’s the matter, baby?” he murmurs.

“Is that my boy?”

Spencer tries to pretend you saying such a thing doesn’t inspire extreme attraction. “That’s your boy,” he says, flustered beyond sense, “he’s not feeling the best.”

Jude shuffles to Spencer’s seat. “I know, poor boy,” you murmur, “aw, I can’t wait to be home, I missed him so much more than I can say, this case felt like an age.”

Doesn’t Spencer know it? He pinches the phone between his ear and shoulder, holding out his hands for Jude, slipping them into his armpits as Jude struggles up into his lap. “What’s wrong?” Spencer asks again.

Jude pouts up at Spencer through long eyelashes. “Daddy, who’s on’a phone?”

“Y/N. Do you want to talk?”

Jude is rigid, his eyebrows pinched tightly, but he nods and holds his hand out for the phone. Spencer guides it gently to his ear. “Tell me if it’s too loud, okay?”

“Hello?” Spencer hears you say. “Jude, lovely, are you there? Can you hear me?”

“I hear you,” Jude says.

“Hello. I miss you very much, I’m excited to come home. Daddy says you’re not feeling well, I’m very sorry to hear it. If you can think of anything I can get you or I can bring you to make you feel better, can you tell me now?”

“Um…” Jude gives Spencer a betrayed glare that makes no sense. “Dad?”

“She said she misses you,” Spencer says softly. “She’s sorry you’re not happy. And she wants to know if you want a present, or a special dinner.”

“No.” Jude straightens up, a little hand tight on the phone. “I miss you,” he says loudly.

“I miss you too. I’ll see you soon, just a couple more hours. Can you be good for dad and have something to eat? Have some apple stars or a bowl of chips or a boppy?”

Jude nods.

Spencer huffs a laugh. “Say out loud,” he whispers.

“Say what?” Jude asks.

“He’s saying yes,” Spencer says loudly.

“You’re gonna go have a boppy now?” you check.

“Yeah,” Jude says.

Your laugh is hard to hear, but Spencer knows it well, filling in the gaps in his head. “Okay, babe. You go have your boppy and I’ll see you real soon.”

Jude perks up a little. He thanks you in his mind for being a miracle worker. Jude says, “Okay,” and you say, “Okay, bye-bye,” and Jude says, “Bye-bye, I love you,” which makes you backtrack to say, “I love you too! Okay? Go have your boppy. Bye, sweet boy.”

Jude gives Spencer the phone nicely.

Spencer can see you’ve hung up, so he puts the phone on the arm and takes Jude’s cheek into his palm. “Okay?” he asks.

“I’m gonna have boppy now,” Jude informs him.

“Yeah, let’s go make it.”

It’s skim milk now Jude’s old enough, but he likes it all the same, and he drinks it held against Spencer’s chest where Spencer stands in the kitchen. Jude doesn’t fuss as Spencer starts writing a list on the fridge-pad. Milk, laundry detergent, carrots, tomatoes, potatoes, bread, cheese and broccoli pasta mix, cheese, noodles. “What do you want for your dinner tomorrow?” Spencer asks, unsurprised to go unanswered. He adds rice, hand soap, and crayons.

Jude doesn’t fall asleep after the bottle. He stretches and cards a hand through his dad’s hair, clumsy but quiet without sulking for the first time in days. “Thank you, that feels nice,” Spencer whispers.

Jude presses his nose up against Spencer’s jaw, bringing his other hand to double the stroking. “I love you very much, you know,” Spencer says.

“Yeah.”

“And things are going to be okay, I promise.”

“Promise,” he repeats.

“Want another boppy?”

“Maybe I can have soup?”

“Is that what your tummy wants?” Spencer opens the cabinet above the counter before Jude can say yes or no. “What soup do you want? Dad has tomato, chicken, mushroom, parsnip, I have all the best ones. Baby, let’s have soup and sandwiches.”

“Mayo-yaise?”

“Is that what you want? Like, a grilled cheese, or just toast and mayo?” He grins at his little weirdo. “You don’t even want the cheese, do you?”

“No, I don‘ even wan’ the cheese,” Jude grins back.

They make soup together. Spencer sits Jude next to the stove, positioning him between legs so he can’t fall or touch the saucepan. He opens two cans of tomato soup and adds fresh cream from the fridge to reduce the sourness, letting Jude pull basil from the window plant to sprinkle in after he’s brought it to a boil and then cooked it back down to a simmer. He gives it time to cool for at least ten minutes, stirring, and pressing the bread spread with mayonnaise into a sizzling frying pan, Jude mumbling at his side the whole time. Some stuff he understands, and some is jumbled nothing. “I think we can,” he says as Spencer pours the soup into two bowls. He leaves more than enough for you in the pot.

“What do you think we can do?” Spencer asks.

Jude only smiles.

Jude takes a long, long time to eat his soup. Spencer heats it up again once, but Jude doesn’t mind it cold. Spencer finishes his in about five minutes and spends the next thirty waiting for you to come home. Over. Not home.

“Have some more?” Jude asks.

“You want more?” Spencer nearly chokes on his breath.

“You and me.”

“Sure,” Spencer says, standing, “babe,” —he kisses Jude’s head— “you can have,” —he gives another kiss while he's there— “as much as you want.”

“Thanks thank you thanks.”

“More sandwich, too?”

“Can I have–” Jude struggles. “Dad, can we have bread without mayo-yaise?”

“Just bread, not toasted? Still soft?”

“Yes. Please.”

“Sure, baby. Whatever you want.”

Spencer likes that having a baby has made affection easier in every part of his life, he’s kinder to every child he meets because it’s easier now to call them lovely or beautiful or ask where their mom is, probably as a side effect of being loved resolutely. Jude loves Spencer so Spencer loves the world. It’s not exactly new rhetoric.

Jude has managed a second piece of bread sans crust when you slip the door open across the house. Spencer grabs a paper towel to wipe Jude’s face and hands quickly.

“Hello?” you call gently, melodic in your cadence.

Jude sits ramrod straight, batting Spencer’s hands away. “Hello?” he calls back.

“Is that my Jude?” you ask, footsteps drawing nearer, your shoes clipping the wooden slat flooring, and then suddenly there in the kitchen doorway. “Hi, angel. I can’t believe you’re not feeling good, you look just the same as the last time I saw you!” You don’t take your bag off your shoulder, but you let the tote in your hand fall to the floor by the fridge.

“Hi,” he says, like he’s in awe.

Your expression softens further. “Hi.”

Jude slides off of his chair and you go on one knee to reach for him, laughing softly as he digs his face into your neck, throwing his arms around you, too short to close. You hold his back in one arm. The other —Spencer’s heart feels squeezed in your palm— rests in the waves of his hair where they kiss Jude’s nape.

“I’ve been so worried about you,” you confess, your hand turning to a fist on his back. You drag your knuckles up and down.

“I miss you.”

“Sorry, handsome, I didn’t mean to be away that long.”

“I miss you.”

“I missed you too.”

Jude takes a breath somewhere near sobbing and startles both you and Spencer. “I miss you,” he insists.

“Bud, it’s okay.”

Jude takes in another horrible straggly breath that nearly forces Spencer onto his knees.

“Miss you,” Jude says, clinging to you with white-knuckled hands, “miss you, don’t go.”

“Baby, I’m not going.”

“Miss you.”

“I miss you too,” you say, locking eyes with Spencer over his head, your lashes like willow, wide in confusion.

Jude swallows harshly but nods like you’ve said something he can agree too.

You shift Jude against your chest and stand. In your winter peacoat, your scarf and your silky black tights, you aren’t shy about squeezing poor rumpled Jude to your chest, ignoring his frizzed hair and his soup-stained t-shirt, all love as you rub his shuddering back. “Jude, you okay?” you ask quietly.

“You was gone for too long.”

Spencer can hardly hear him.

“I was, huh?”

“Too much.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know you’d miss me this much. I didn’t mean to make you sad.”

“You’ll be in the bed with me?”

“Is that what you want me to do?” you ask patiently.

“Yeah.”

“If dad says it’s okay, we’ll sleep in the big bed.”

Jude spins in your arms, imploring Spencer desperately, “Please, daddy? Please?”

Of course you can stay in the big bed. It’s not unusual for you to spend the night, and you stopped suffering the couch a long time ago.

The moment Jude knows you aren’t going home, he starts to act like himself again. He stops the shuddery breath that makes Spencer hot behind the eyes. His mumbling turns to a more curious probing —Why were you gone so long? Did you miss him? Can I come with you nex’ time?

You don’t baulk. When Jude knocks the door while you’re changing and again while you’re freshening up, you don’t mind. You open the door with water running down your arms and chin and sit him on the sink basin while you brush your teeth. Spencer isn’t offended that you’ve taken over, it’s love. Like, his stomach aches with fondness watching you with Jude. You’ve been gentle from the beginning, loved Jude since he was a furious little baby crying himself sick in Spencer’s lap, and now you’re somehow more than that. You answer Jude’s why’s and when’s with the best you have. You pretend you aren’t tired, waiting for the three of you to sardine together in the dimly lit bed before you let out your first yawn.

“Are you tired?” Jude asks you knowingly.

“Not too much. How about you, are you tired?”

“Not too much,” he echoes. Jude turns to Spencer, looking his age again. “Are you tired?”

“I’m the most tired I’ve ever been,” he says.

He doesn’t have his schoolboy heart attacks seeing you in your pajamas anymore, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t still find it special and secret when you rub your bare face and settle on your pillow, one eye hidden, the other sluggish. “Maybe we can rest our eyes with dad,” you suggest in a whisper, “he can sleep, and you can give him a cuddle.”

Jude reaches for your hand.

You hum softly. “I'm not going anywhere.”

Slowly, Jude reaches for Spencer with his other hand.

“Me neither,” he says.

They ‘rest their eyes’ until Jude falls asleep, snoring in snuffs by your head. Spencer takes his glasses and folds them up for the nightstand, before curling into him.

Cautious not to disturb Jude, you reach over to hold Spencer’s arm, locking Jude in, and giving Spencer some much needed reassurance. You don’t talk. Your thumb rubs into a ridge, a sore spot, and after a moment it’s sore in a new way.

“I can’t believe I didn’t realise it was you,” he says.

“Realise what?”

“Jude missed you. It was you.”

Your smile is gaussian. Happy and smudged. You pull Spencer closer to you, which in turn brings Jude right up on your chest. Spencer isn’t too cowardly to curve the arm you're holding right up over you in turn. His fingertips flirt with the dip in your spine, but stay.

“You’re not saying all this fuss was about me being away.”

“I’m wondering if it was.”

You don’t respond.

“You know how he gets when he can’t see me for the day,” Spencer says, afraid of waking Jude and of saying something too obviously adoring, “I should’ve guessed he missed you.”

“He doesn’t love me like he loves you, Spencer. Jude loves you like you’re… it’s… I wish you could see him when he’s with you, it’s like you’re the same person…” You smile apologetically. “Sorry, I don’t know how to say it.”

Spencer doesn’t know how to answer. He stares at Jude’s neck. “I know how he loves me, ‘cos it’s how much I love him. I just think after seeing him tonight, it’s obvious what was going on with him.”

“Don’t speak too soon, okay?” you say. “Let’s wait until tomorrow to decide he’s alright again.”

Spencer draws a line down Jude’s nose. What a kid. Exhausting, beautiful Jude.

“I missed you,” he says under his breath, not looking at you. “Don’t think I realised how much, either.”

“I missed you, too,” you say. When you laugh, it’s like your voice has split and feathered into softness he can’t touch. “I didn’t think it was possible to miss someone like I missed you both. I kept thinking about Jude, when he used to do all that gibberish babble between real words and you’d ask him to repeat himself and he’d be too shy to do it. And his eyes, and his curls, I… I really love him. I’m so lucky that you let me.”

I love you, Spencer thinks. From the day we met, and again when you called yourself my friend. Again, when you spent the first week of Jude’s homecoming sleeping on the couch and waking with every cry, soothing tears no matter who they came from, patient and tired, endlessly pretty.

“I didn’t let you,” Spencer says. “You’re ferocious.”

“Ha!” you whisper. “Ferocious. I like it.”

“I like you,” he says. It’s all he’s brave enough to confess.

“I’m a little sweet on you, Spencer Reid,” you say, turning your head up with a yawn. “I’m so tired.”

“Then sleep. We should sleep, I’m tired, too,” he says, sure he’d meant to say I love you, I want you to stay, I want to reach over and hold your neck and stay here for days.

Spencer allows himself the last one. You whisper goodnight, your face tickled by a small head of hair.

#spencer and jude #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fic

1K notes · View notes

vanteguccir · 4 months ago

Note

chris said on the stream that he can’t go to sleep mad at his brothers so can you write something where reader and chris are mad at each other and she’s trying to go to sleep but chris won’t let her until they make up please!!

love you🤍

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤNOT GONNA SLEEP ANGRY * CHRIS STURNIOLO * BLURB

SUMMARY　::　Where Y/N and Chris had a fight during the day, and now he won't go to sleep until Y/N forgive him.

FEATURING　Chris Sturniolo x reader

WARNINGS　::　None.

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

The room was dark, illuminated only by the dim glow of Chris's phone screen as he scrolled aggressively - probably watching only a second from each TikTok - while pointedly ignoring Y/N.

Or, well, trying to.

Because even though she wasn’t looking at him, he could feel her presence, her annoyance practically radiating off her in waves.

She was lying as far away from him as physically possible, practically falling off the edge of the bed like she was getting ready for some kind of emergency evacuation.

The only reason she hadn’t actually left was because one, she refused to give him the satisfaction of sleeping on the couch, and two, she wasn’t about to make him do it either. Even if he was being impossible.

Chris let out a deep sigh, dramatically loud, as if he were the victim here.

Y/N closed her eyes tighter, gripping the edge of the blanket like it was a lifeline. She wasn’t about to break first. No way. She had her pride. And besides, she was so tired. If she just focused hard enough, she could probably fall asleep and pretend he wasn’t there.

But Chris? Oh, Chris wasn't having it.

He shifted, tossing his phone onto the mattress beside him, and let out another long, deep sigh.

Y/N didn’t react.

"Are you seriously gonna sleep like that?" He finally spoke, voice laced with exasperation.

She didn’t answer.

Silence. A whole five seconds of it.

Until Chris poked her side.

Y/N flinched but stayed quiet, clenching her jaw.

Another poke.

"Chris." Her voice was warning, strained, eyes still squeezed shut.

Another poke.

Deep breaths, deep breaths.

"Christopher."

But still, no other reaction from her.

Chris groaned dramatically, throwing his head back against the pillow.

"You’re really gonna make me suffer like this?"

No answer.

Chris shifted closer. Not too close, but enough for her to know he was there, breathing down her neck, waiting for any sort of reaction.

Then, in a voice that was way too soft for the situation, he was back at talking.

"You know I can’t sleep when we’re mad at each other."

Y/N rolled her closed eyes.

"Then don’t sleep."

"Oh my God." Chris flopped onto his back, covering his face with his hands like she had just stabbed him in the heart. "You’re actually evil. I can’t believe I’m dating a villain."

She bit back a smile.

Chris propped himself up on his elbow.

"Babe." He tried again, a little whinier this time. "Just talk to me so I can sleep."

"You should’ve thought about that before being annoying."

Chris let out the most pained groan.

"I’m always annoying. That’s literally, like, my whole thing. What’s different about today?"

Y/N turned her head just slightly, just enough for him to see her squinting at him.

"Oh, so you know you’re annoying?"

Chris shrugged.

"Duh. You knew what you signed up for."

She huffed, turning back toward the side, still determined to ignore him.

Chris paused. Considered his options.

Well...

Then, before Y/N could even register what was happening, she felt hands. Strong, impatient hands digging into her waist and yanking her back with force, her body colliding into his in one swift motion, causing the bed to squeak.

A gasp left her lips as she suddenly found herself trapped, Chris’s arms locked tightly around her middle, fingers pressing into her stomach in an almost bruising grip, his broad chest flush against her back.

"CHRIS."

"Nope." He interrupted, his voice low, spoken directly into the crook of her neck as he buried his face against her. His breath tickled, warm and slow, sending a shiver racing down her spine.

Her hands instinctively flew to his exposed arms, attempting to pry them off, digging her nails on his skin, but he was relentless. His grip only tightened, his legs wrapping around hers now, effectively caging her in.

"You hate me so bad, but you’re still in my bed." He murmured dramatically against her neck, the vibrations of his voice sinking into her skin.

Y/N squirmed, still trying to maintain whatever shred of dignity she had left.

"I was here first."

Chris hummed, the sound almost taunting, before pressing his lips right against her pulse.

Y/N froze.

Chris, sensing the way her body stiffened, smirked.

"I refuse to sleep with this weird energy." He continued, voice softer now. "You know I can’t go to bed mad at you."

Y/N exhaled sharply, hating how her body had completely betrayed her, how the stubbornness she had clung to so tightly was slipping through her fingers with every passing second in his arms.

"This isn’t fair." She muttered, pouting.

Chris chuckled, nuzzling his nose against the soft skin below her jaw, his lips grazing just enough to make her melt.

"You love it."

"I don’t." She insisted, though the way her body had softened into his told a completely different story.

Chris pressed another slow kiss to her neck, his grip on her waist easing, but still firm. Holding her there. Keeping her close.

"Yeah, you do."

Y/N sighed, eyes fluttering shut.

She was so mad at how easy he made it. How quickly he could make her not mad at him anymore.

"You’re so annoying." She whispered.

Chris smiled against her skin.

"And yet, here you are."

"Well, you kidnapped me." She rolled her eyes, squeezing the skin of his arm. "... I hate when you do this."

Chris hummed, content.

"What, love you?"

She exhaled through her nose, finally letting herself melt into him.

"I love you too."

Chris grinned, pressing one last lingering kiss to her skin before finally resting his head against the pillow, arms still securely wrapped around her.

928 notes · View notes

shyoko · 4 months ago

Text

☆When you call them by their name instead of their affectionate nickname. ☆

This writing is my own; no copies, adaptations, or translations are allowed. I hope you like it. (English is not my first language.)

Requests are: open

Before anything else, sorry for disappearing, but my PC died. But well, now I have a new one, and I can keep editing and writing.

Thanks for the support!!! i love u ❤❤❤

Heeseung☆!

You're lying on the couch, enjoying the calm, with Heeseung resting his head on your lap. His eyes are closed, but the way his fingers absentmindedly trace patterns on your leg tells you he's more awake than he seems. You smile at him, thinking about how adorable he looks, though you also suspect he's waiting for the right moment to do something mischievous.

You take the opportunity to check your phone. Unlocking the screen, you scroll through your notifications and pause on Heeseung’s contact. It’s just his name—no nickname, no emoji. You know he doesn’t like how formal that feels.

Deciding to mess with him, you hold back a laugh and keep staring at your phone, waiting for him to notice.

“What are you looking at?” he suddenly murmurs, not opening his eyes, but his tone betrays that he’s completely awake.

You chuckle, tilting your phone slightly to keep it out of his view.

“Nothing, nothing,” you reply, keeping it just out of his reach.

He opens one eye, a playful glint in his gaze. Before you can react, he’s already on top of you, trying to snatch your phone from your hands. His closeness sends a flutter through your stomach, but you keep up the game.

“Let go!” he laughs, voice full of mischief as he stretches toward the phone.

“No!” you giggle, dodging his attempts to grab it.

Heeseung sighs dramatically, pretending to be offended, but his mischievous grin gives him away.

“Why do you have me saved as just ‘Heeseung’? Not even an emoji. That’s so cold!” he protests, crossing his arms with an exaggerated pout.

You can’t help but laugh at his theatrics. He looks so cute that it’s hard to keep a straight face.

“It’s your name, isn’t it?” you tease, smiling as you watch him sulk.

“Yes, but it sounds so distant,” he whines, though his playful tone tells you he’s not actually upset. “Give me something cute, something affectionate. I don’t know, a heart or a nickname.”

You’re a little surprised by his request, but you decide to go along with it. Smirking, you think for a moment.

“Hm… How about ‘My Boy 🩷’?” you suggest playfully, tilting your phone so he can see.

Heeseung freezes for a second, as if processing what you just said. Then, his face lights up with a satisfied grin, and without warning, he snatches your phone.

In the blink of an eye, he changes the contact name. “Heeseung” now reads “My Boy 🩷” on the screen.

You stare at your phone in shock, amazed at how fast he did it. Heeseung flops down beside you, a triumphant smile on his face.

“Do you like it?” he asks, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you closer.

You laugh, feeling your cheeks heat up. There’s no escaping now.

“I can’t believe you actually did that!” you protest between giggles, giving him a playful shove.

“Why not?” he smirks confidently, pressing a sweet kiss to your forehead. “I am your boy, aren’t I?”

You keep smiling, feeling the warmth of his embrace surrounding you. In that moment, between laughter and soft touches, you realize there’s nowhere else you’d rather be.

“You’re such an idiot,” you whisper, hiding your face in his chest to keep him from seeing how flustered you are.

“I’m your idiot, remember?” he murmurs, gently running his fingers through your hair. “Always.”

You chuckle softly, hugging him tighter. There’s nothing better than this—the warmth of his arms, the sound of his voice, and his name now saved as “My Boy 🩷” on your phone.

jay☆!

You were sitting on the couch, your phone in your hands, when Jay let out an exaggerated sigh beside you. You tilted your head in curiosity, finding his brows furrowed and lips slightly pursed.

“What’s wrong with you?” you asked, propping an elbow on the back of the couch to turn toward him.

Jay glanced at you out of the corner of his eye before looking away with a small huff.

“It’s just that… you never call me by a cute nickname,” he mumbled, fidgeting with the hem of his sweatshirt. “It’s always ‘Jay’ this, ‘Jay’ that. I don’t know, it sounds too formal.”

A smile slipped out before you could stop it.

“Oh yeah? And what do you want me to call you?”

Jay was about to answer, but before he could, a voice interrupted from the doorway.

“Are you guys having a romantic moment or what?”

Ni-ki appeared with a mischievous grin, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed. Jay immediately rolled his eyes.

“Go away,” he said flatly, not even looking at him.

“Wow, so rude,” Ni-ki chuckled. “But seriously, what’s up with you now?”

Jay sighed tiredly, but when it became clear that Ni-ki wasn’t going anywhere, he finally gave in.

“I was just saying that they never call me by a cute nickname,” he explained with a pout.

“Oh, poor thing,” Ni-ki mocked, placing a dramatic hand over his chest. “Do you want to be called ‘teddy bear’ or something?”

Laughter burst out of you before you could hold it in. Jay shot Ni-ki a glare, but the younger boy just held up his hands in surrender.

“Alright, alright, I’m leaving. You guys enjoy your little couple talk,” he said, turning away with a teasing smile.

Once he was gone, Jay sighed and rested his head on your shoulder, hiding his face against your neck.

“Ni-ki’s so annoying,” he muttered against your skin.

You chuckled softly, running your fingers through his hair.

“He is,” you agreed, stroking his hair gently. “But he has a point.”

Jay lifted his head slightly, curiosity flickering in his eyes.

You smiled before leaning closer to his ear.

“You’re my teddy bear,” you whispered playfully.

Jay blinked, his cheeks turning bright red in an instant.

“That’s even worse!” he exclaimed, covering his face.

You giggled fondly before taking his hands and intertwining your fingers with his.

“Okay, okay… but tell me, what do you want me to call you?”

Jay stared at you in silence for a moment, then sighed with a small smile.

“I don’t know, anything… just something sweet,” he murmured, tucking his face into your neck again.

Smiling, you placed a soft kiss on his hair.

“Alright, sweetheart.”

The quiet sigh Jay let out was barely noticeable, but the way he held onto you just a little tighter said it all.

“This is much better,” he whispered, a warm smile tugging at his lips.

Jake☆!

Jake was lying on the living room floor, legs stretched out and a soft smile on his face as he played with Layla. The puppy wagged her tail enthusiastically, pouncing over and over on the toy that Jake spun between his hands. The scene was so adorable that you almost felt bad interrupting it, but still, you called out to him from the couch, trying to get his attention.

"Jake! Can you come here for a second?"

Jake lifted his head immediately, as if unsure he'd heard correctly. His eyes widened slightly, and for a moment, he stayed completely still, still holding Layla’s toy. The surprise on his face was so obvious that you had to bite your lip to keep from laughing.

"Did you just call me Jake?" he asked, squinting slightly and letting out a soft chuckle—though there was something in his gaze that seemed genuinely displeased.

"Yeah, what about it?" you replied, raising an eyebrow.

Jake set the toy aside and slowly got up, crawling toward you with deliberate movements. He rested his arms on the edge of the couch, leaning in until your faces were only inches apart.

"I don’t like it when you call me that," he murmured with a slight pout. "It sounds too… ordinary."

"But it’s your name, Jake." You emphasized his name on purpose, enjoying the way his jaw clenched slightly.

He rolled his eyes with an exaggerated sigh and took your hands in his, as if that would help convince you.

"Yeah, but not from you," he insisted, lowering his voice. "‘Jake’ is what everyone calls me. Not you."

The way he looked at you, with his lips pressed together and his brows slightly furrowed, had an unmistakable hint of tenderness that made you smile involuntarily. His fingers tangled gently with yours, playing with them as if trying to distract himself.

"Ah, I see. So, my boy gets upset when I call him by his name," you teased, intertwining your fingers with his.

Jake scoffed, but the faint blush on his cheeks betrayed him.

"I’m not upset… I just don’t like it," he muttered, pressing his lips into a thin line. "I want you to call me the way you always do."

You noticed how his hands tightened around yours, as if afraid you might do it again.

"Alright, my love," you whispered with a smile.

Jake closed his eyes for a moment, as if savoring the way it sounded on your lips. Then, without warning, he nestled into your arms and rested his head on your shoulder, letting out a deep sigh.

"That’s much better," he murmured against your skin, his voice laced with contentment.

You smiled, pressing a soft kiss to his hair as your fingers ran gently down his back. Layla let out a quiet bark beside you, as if protesting the lack of attention, but Jake didn’t even budge.

"You know this is a little dramatic, right?" you murmured in amusement.

"I don’t care," he replied, snuggling closer. "Just let me stay like this for a while."

And by the way he held onto you, you knew there was no way you’d ever call him ‘Jake’ again.

Sunghoon☆!

You were leaning against one of the tables in the café, chatting casually with a friend. The conversation flowed lightheartedly between laughter, but every now and then, your eyes drifted toward Sunghoon, who sat a few meters away with his headphones in and his phone in hand.

When your gazes met, you smiled and raised a hand in greeting.

"Sunghoon, come here for a second!" you called, gesturing with your hand.

He lifted his head, hesitating at first, but eventually put his headphones in his pocket and walked toward you with slow steps. The usual soft smile on his face had vanished, and the way his lips were pressed together made you blink in confusion.

"What's wrong?" you asked when he reached your side.

Sunghoon shook his head, shrugging, but avoided your gaze. He merely clicked his tongue lightly, crossing his arms and glancing toward the window.

"Is something bothering you?" you insisted, frowning. "Are you upset that I was talking to him?"

"No," he answered quickly, rolling his eyes. "It's not that."

The dry tone of his voice and the way his fingers tapped against his arm gave him away. You sighed, saying goodbye to your friend before gently taking Sunghoon by the wrist and leading him to a more private corner.

"Hey, are you sure nothing's wrong?" you murmured, searching his eyes. "You've been acting strange since you came over."

Sunghoon puffed out his cheeks, avoiding your gaze.

"It's just… you called me 'Sunghoon,'" he finally admitted, a small pout forming on his lips. "Not even a 'baby' or anything. It sounded like you didn’t even know me."

Surprise made you blink a couple of times before a small laugh escaped you. Sunghoon scrunched his nose, clearly offended.

"Ah, so that's what it was," you smiled, tightening your grip on his wrist slightly. "I thought you didn’t like that kind of thing in public. The nicknames and all…"

He huffed, clicking his tongue in irritation.

"I just don’t like other guys thinking I'm not your boyfriend," he muttered, a soft blush rising to his cheeks. "I like it when you call me cute things, not just my name. It sounds too cold."

The sincerity in his tone and the way his gaze shifted anxiously, as if looking for an escape, made you smile fondly.

"Wow, I didn’t know you were this sensitive," you teased gently.

Sunghoon puffed out his cheeks again, turning his gaze away with a small scoff.

"I’m not sensitive…" he grumbled, though the way his fingers intertwined with yours completely contradicted him. "I just… like it when it sounds like I’m special."

With a soft smile, you stood on your tiptoes and placed a gentle kiss on his cheek. The blush on his face deepened instantly, and though he tried to keep his annoyed expression, his lips began to curve slightly.

"Alright then, ‘baby,’" you whispered sweetly.

Sunghoon let out a quiet sigh, and though he crossed his arms as if still upset, he didn’t move away. On the contrary, he leaned his forehead a little closer to yours, his eyes slightly narrowed.

"Much better," he murmured, and though his voice was soft and serious, you could feel his smile against your skin—warm and small.

Sunoo☆!

The challenge had started as a simple joke—just to see how Sunoo would react if you called him by his name instead of the affectionate nicknames he loved so much. The guys—Jay, Niki, and Sunghoon—could barely contain their laughter when they saw you walk into the room with that fake serious expression. They hid behind the slightly open door, trying not to make a sound while you prepared to set the plan in motion.

Sunoo was sitting on the mattress, legs crossed, phone in hand. The soft afternoon light streamed through the window, casting warm highlights in his hair. His fingers moved quickly across the screen, and his calm expression made you hesitate for a second before clearing your throat.

"Sunoo! Come here for a second!" you called, trying to sound natural.

At the sound of his name, Sunoo immediately lifted his head. His expression shifted from surprise to annoyance in the blink of an eye, and his eyes narrowed as he looked at you as if you had just said the most ridiculous thing in the world. His jaw tensed slightly, and his lips pressed together, making it clear that he was not in the mood for jokes.

"What did you just say?" he asked, setting his phone aside and getting up with quick steps. His tone was colder than usual, and the way he held your gaze without blinking made it impossible to take the situation lightly.

"I called you, what’s the problem?" you defended yourself, biting your lip to keep from laughing.

"Don’t call me that!" he protested immediately, frowning. "It sounds horrible. Like I’m just any other person."

The firmness in his voice and the way he crossed his arms in front of you, chin raised and eyes shining with a mix of irritation and defiance, made it clear that the challenge was working. Sometimes, the confidence in Sunoo’s gaze managed to disarm you faster than you were willing to admit.

"But it’s your name, Sunoo," you insisted with a teasing smile, provoking him on purpose.

At the sound of his name again, Sunoo let out an irritated huff, rolling his eyes and pressing his lips together in frustration.

"No more ‘Sunoo!’" he demanded, his voice sharp. "Call me ‘baby’ or ‘my love.’ That sounds much nicer. That’s what I want to hear."

It was right then that a small, choked noise broke the silence. Someone—clearly Niki—let out a stifled giggle, and the faint sound made Sunoo turn sharply toward the door. His eyes narrowed, and before the guys could react, he marched toward it with quick, firm steps.

"Ah! So this was a joke, huh?" he muttered, swinging the door open to find all three of them barely holding back laughter. "Very funny. Really."

Jay and Sunghoon raised their hands in surrender, but Niki burst into laughter, leaning on Jay’s shoulder as he doubled over. Sunoo clenched his jaw, rolling his eyes in irritation before slamming the door shut with a sharp huff.

"You guys are so annoying," he mumbled, pressing his lips together as he rested his head against the door. His expression remained serious, and the faint redness on his cheeks only made his frustration more obvious.

You sighed with a guilty smile, stepping closer to him softly. Before he could complain again, you took his wrist and led him back to the mattress, gently guiding him to sit down as you settled beside him, wrapping your arms around him.

"I’m sorry, baby," you whispered, pressing a soft kiss to his flushed cheek. "You know it was just a joke. Don’t be mad."

Sunoo huffed, turning his head away from you. His lips remained pressed in a pout, and the way he kept his arms crossed against his chest made it clear that his annoyance hadn’t faded yet.

"You’re all so cruel," he mumbled, his tone dry and sharp. "It’s not funny."

You smiled against his skin, leaving a slow trail of kisses from his cheek down to the hollow of his neck. You felt his shoulders gradually relax, though his lips remained tight as he tried not to give in too easily.

"Will you forgive me?" you whispered, placing one last kiss near his ear. "You know I just wanted to tease you a little."

Sunoo let out a quiet sigh, resting his forehead against your shoulder, though he refused to look at you.

"Maybe…" he murmured, his voice softer but still sulky. "But you owe me cuddles. Lots of them."

And even though his face remained serious and his gaze fixed on the fabric of your shirt, the way he curled up against you, eyes fluttering shut and hands gripping your clothes, made it clear that his anger wouldn’t last much longer.

Jungwon☆!

The argument had ended a few minutes ago, but the silence between the two of you felt heavy and cold. Jungwon stood in the middle of the room, biting his lip nervously, while you took a few steps toward the window, trying to calm yourself. The way you had said his name, without any of the usual affectionate nicknames, hurt him more than he wanted to admit.

"Hey... can we talk, please?" he asked in a low, uncertain voice. But you didn’t respond, keeping your gaze fixed outside, even though you weren’t really looking at anything.

"Are you really going to keep calling me that?" Jungwon insisted, taking a step closer, his dark eyes reflecting a mix of regret and sadness. The way he said your name sounded almost like a plea, so soft that the knot in your throat tightened even more.

"It’s your name, isn’t it?" you replied, trying to sound firm, though your voice wavered slightly.

Jungwon pressed his lips together, his shoulders tensing. He didn’t like hearing that, especially in that distant tone. He swallowed hard, lowering his gaze for a moment, as if debating with himself whether or not to take the next step. But the thought of you continuing to call him that was enough to make him forget his pride.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice trembling with sincerity. He stepped closer, carefully, as if afraid you would pull away.

"I really am, love. I didn’t… I didn’t want it to end like this. Please, don’t call me that."

The way his voice broke at the end made something inside you crack as well. Before you could respond, Jungwon gently took your hands, intertwining his fingers with yours. His grip was warm, but he was shaking slightly.

"I know I messed up. But please, don’t talk to me like I’m a stranger," he whispered, resting his forehead against yours, closing his eyes with an almost broken sigh.

"Call me like you used to. Just tell me you forgive me, okay?"

The pain and regret in his eyes were so evident that you couldn’t keep up the act for much longer. You sighed, closing your eyes for a moment as his fingers softly traced yours, as if afraid you’d pull away.

"Jungwon..." you started, and you felt him tense at the mention of his name again. But before he could say anything, you continued:

"It’s okay, my love. I’m not angry, just… it hurt, you know?" you admitted softly, cupping his cheek.

He let out a deep sigh of relief, so profound it was as if he had been holding his breath the entire time. He hugged you without hesitation, burying his face in your neck as he murmured apologies over and over again, clinging to you as if afraid you would disappear.

"Thank you… thank you for forgiving me, love," he whispered, and this time his voice was broken, but filled with relief and warmth.

"I love you."

And in his arms, the weight in your chest slowly began to fade away.

Ni-ki☆!

You were in the kitchen, stirring the food in the pan, when you raised your voice to call Ni-ki from the living room.

"Jake, come here for a second!"

Silence fell immediately. The moment the words left your mouth, you knew you had messed up.

From the couch, Ni-ki lifted his head with a look of disbelief. He didn’t say anything at first, but the way he narrowed his eyes made it clear that he had heard you perfectly.

He stood up and walked toward the kitchen with slow steps, crossing his arms.

"What did you just say?" he asked, his tone dripping with irritation.

You froze for a moment, feeling the tension in the air.

"I'm sorry, Ni-ki… I meant—"

"Oh, so not only do you not call me by a cute nickname, but you say someone else’s name instead?" he interrupted, scoffing in annoyance. "And Jake’s, of all people. How embarrassing."

He placed a hand over his chest dramatically, but the frown on his face showed that he was genuinely bothered.

"I'm really sorry, it wasn’t on purpose…" you murmured, taking a step toward him.

Ni-ki averted his gaze with a small huff, but the way his jaw relaxed let you know he was already getting over it.

"Just… don’t call me Jake again," he said, still keeping his arms crossed.

You smiled tenderly before gently touching his arm.

"I promise, love. I won’t do it again."

The nickname worked instantly. Ni-ki looked at you in silence for a moment, and then, without warning, leaned in and wrapped his arms around you. His embrace was firm, almost possessive.

"You’re mine, you know that?" he murmured against your lips with a mischievous smile.

Warmth bloomed in your chest, and you placed a soft kiss on his lips, lingering just enough to make the tension disappear completely.

Just then, a low chuckle came from the doorway.

"Dude, that’s disgusting," Jay said, leaning against the frame with a raised eyebrow. "So now you’re one of those ‘you’re mine’ guys? That’s new."

Ni-ki turned his head, frowning.

"What are you talking about?"

"I just remember when you used to laugh at me for being ‘cheesy’ with my girlfriend," Jay replied, making air quotes. "And look at you now—‘mine’ this, kisses everywhere."

Ni-ki opened his mouth to argue, but no comeback came to mind. His ears instantly turned red.

"Screw you, Jay."

"Gladly, but I’m enjoying the show too much." Jay smirked smugly before turning away and disappearing down the hallway.

Jay smirked smugly before turning away and disappearing down the hallway. Ni-ki let out a frustrated sigh and rested his forehead on your shoulder, mumbling something under his breath.

"What was that?" you asked, laughing.

"I hate him," he muttered against your neck, clinging even tighter to you.

"And here I thought you were tough, Ni-ki."

He lifted his head with a frown, but the way he held onto your waist even more tightly gave him away—deep down, he didn’t mind at all.

"Hii! Now that I'm back, I'd love to know, do you have any ideas or suggestions for what you'd like to see next? I'm open to recommendations, so feel free to comment. I'm reading you!" ❤❤❤

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tteokdoroki · 2 years ago

Text

☆༉ — KATSUKI BAKUGOU. compression shirts & sweatpants.

about. hello u guys wanted me to finish this so i did lol !!!! i just can’t get the idea of him in compression shirts out of my mind ok enjoy !! <3

warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact. suggestive, making out, hickies, dry humping, bakugou being a huge tease, gn!reader, pro hero!bakugou.

“do you get off on this? dressing like a slut?”

after pushing his bread down into the toaster, bakugou stops mid-sip, his signature red riot coffee mug about a quarter of an inch away from the pink and plush curve of his lips. he looks over to you as if he’s an animal that’s been caught doing something it’s not supposed to. a deer in headlights if you will.

“hah?”

you clench your fists, the foulest pout you can muster spread thinly over your features like a veil, as a petulant huff escapes you. you pretend to be mad at the man for as long as you can, turning your head away from him with your arms crossed over your chest. but you can’t help it. you can’t fight it… your gaze trailing back over to him at a snail’s pace.

katsuki bakugou looks like a fucking god.

not only does the stupid black compression shirt he’s wearing highlight the slender accent of his hips and itty bitty waist — but it clings to every muscle in bakugou’s marble-carved body. you can see every bulge of his biceps and ripple in his backs, even down to his washboard abs. honestly, you count your lucky stars every day that you managed to sink your fangs into the blonde before anyone else did, claiming him as your own. you might have even thrown up if anyone got to see him lounging about the place in grey sweats the way you did, the material just barely sitting on his hips.

you have to swipe at your mouth to stop yourself from drooling when he puts his mug down and lifts an arm up high to put the coffee granules back in the cupboard — his shirt riding up just enough for you to get a good look at a slither if his his sun-kissed, diamond cut v-line and waistband of his boxers too. it’s like the guy is purposefully trying to kill you.

just the very sight of katsuki like this, probably fresh from his work out, has you in a shambles — breaking out into hot sweats, panting like a dog. someone might even think you’re sick.

katsuki pays your little tantrum no mind, crossing his arms and leaning his hip against the kitchen counter while he waits for you to finish.

“you look so good.” you relent eventually, shoulders sagging.

shaking his head in a fond manner, the blonde rolls his ruby framed eyes. “no, you look good.” katsuki coos amusedly, arms opening wide for you as you pad further into the kitchen to snuggle against his chest. although he’s taunting you and you’re playing right into his game, you will always love that katsuki finds little ways to compliment you and make you feel adored — you feel it as he presses the wisps of a kiss into the crown of your head. “you always do.”

“it’s not fair that you get to go around like this! wearing that and making me feel all—!” you wave your hands about eccentrically, a heated frustration burning at your nerve endings as you screech your feelings out.

bakugou smiles to himself, sexy and slow, barely jumping when his toast pops out of the toaster. he grabs it, holds the corner of his food between his rows of pearly white teeth and spins your positions so that he traps you against the kitchen counter. “gonna need some context, babe.” you think that he’s going to touch you but instead reaches behind you to grab at his coffee.

freaking tease.

it’s impossible to think clearly when your boyfriend is this close — his intoxicating musky scent of sweet sweat and cool toned aftershave making you dizzy. “i hate you.” you state indignantly, flopping against his chest and letting it’s plushness muffle your speech patterns. “you’re stupid hot. and a slut.”

“you slut shamin’ me, sweetness?”

“s’what you deserve. dressin’ like you don’t belong to nobody. like you belong to the streets.”

“i belong to you, baby. you know that.” chucking his toast onto the counter, the blonde swoops down to kiss you hungrily — tasting of freshly brewed coffee grounds and salt. of course he would get off to something like this. he’s got you right where he wants you, weak in the knees and melting in his arms.

you screw your eyes shut, squirming in place as bakugou steps back and guides your hand under his tight fitting compression shirt, overloading your brain with just how built he is. fleshy pecks and golden abs. he ends up keeping it rolled up so you feel hot all over. “i can get undressed if it makes ya feel better.”

you can’t help that your eyes drop back down to his cotton grey sweats — they’ve slipped a little lower, low enough for his sharp v-line and soft blonde curls from his happy trail to peek out from the waistband. if you squinted (not that you would need to) you could make out the outline of his semi as it brushes against your inner thighs.

this is it. this is the end. “it makes me feel worse actually. like i might die of thirst or something. especially if you don’t—“

“if i don’, what?” his hands are all over you now, splayed over your tummy, digging into your waist — he overwhelms you. pressing his body against yours until you practically feel him through your pores. bakugou is hot (physically, sure) but against you, your desire for him spreads like a heatwave through every inch of your body — from the tips of your fingers and toes to the top of your head.

“kiss me.” you breathe, a neediness seeded into your tone.

bakugou arches a blonde eyebrow, looking down at you cockily. “c’mere then, brat.”

he uses a finger and thumb to tilt your chin up towards him, leaning down to kiss you before tricking you with a fake out. just as you begin to whinge and complain, the blonde squishes your cheeks so you can’t wriggle away from him and licks into your mouth with a teasing laugh. he only kisses you fully when you grasp at his slender waist, feel him up from under his clothes and slip your hands over his ass — just bellow the waistband of his sweats.

“fuckin’ tease,” katsuki grunts, tugging on your lower lip with his teeth and sucking in your tongue.

a free hand wanders from his bottom, climbs up the rippling muscles of his back and tangles in bakugou’s sandy roots — fisting then as you drag him closer, working your tongue into his hot and welcoming mouth. “takes one to know one, kats,” you mewl into him, letting him swallow your satisfied gasps and squeaks.

every action, every groan and grope becomes rougher, needier, hornier — squeezing each other turns to grinding on one another until there’s no room for either of you to breathe and just as you move to shove your hand down the front of his boxers, everything comes to a halt.

you knock bakugou’s coffee over when he lifts you onto the counter.

“ow! hot!” you squeal, still tilting your head back to make room for the blonde at your neck.

he doesn’t stop, nipping at your skin. “yeah, so you’ve said babe.”

“not you, dummy!” swatting at your boyfriend, you push him off. “the fucking coffee on my ass!”

katsuki blinks, his lashes fluttering against the column of your throat while be peeks over your shoulder at the beverage spilling across the counter and seeping into your clothes.

“that’s what you get for callin’ me a slut.”

“oh…oh fuck you.”

“‘m trying babe.”

“fuck you. slut.”

“keep degrading me sweetness, ‘m kinda into that.”

#bakugou x reader #bakugou smut #bakugou fluff #bakugo x reader #bakugo smut #bakugou x you #bakugou thirst #bakugo x you #bakugo thirst #bakugo fluff #bakugou imagines #bakugo drabble #bnha smut #bnha x reader #bnha x you #bnha fluff #✧ ₊˚੭ — writing #tteokdoroki

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moonstruckme · 1 year ago

Note

omg ok idea! James or Sirius with a gf whose chatty but just not super crass and May be she comes home drunk from girl's night and is just openly trying to seduce him and he's just so taken aback like who is this person?!

Thanks for requesting!

cw: intoxication, dubious consent but nothing more than kissing

Sirius Black x fem!reader ♡ 717 words

Sirius has never received such determined kisses in his life.

He turns his lips from yours, smearing them over your brow in consolation when you make a piteous, dejected sound he’s going to pretend for your benefit isn’t hilarious. You keep planting kisses on his jaw, his neck. Sirius catches your wrists in his hands when you start pulling up the hem of his shirt.

“Hey, hey,” he laughs. “What happened to ‘hello’? Is this how we greet each other now, sweetness?”

The kisses had begun the second he’d shut the door on your friends. They’d chatted for a minute before that, and you’d had this strange smile on your face as you waited for them to go. At the time, Sirius had chalked it up to your obvious inebriation, but now he knows it for depravity.

“Preferably,” you mumble, mouth busy with the bits of chest you can get at by pulling down the collar of his shirt. Sirius isn’t sure whether you can’t stand on your own or whether you’ve just decided pressing yourself fully against him is the way to go. Any other time, he really wouldn’t be opposed.

“What’s gotten into you?” he asks, delighted and exercising every ounce of self restraint in his battered soul to keep from kissing you back. He starts pulling you towards the couch, your uncoordinated feet following behind.

You pause in your ravishment to grin up at him. You look positively impish. “Like, d’you want a list?”

Sirius laughs, astonished. “What happened to my shy girl? Were you freaky fridayed by someone in the club?”

“Freaky fridayed in the club.” You snort, flopping down onto the couch when he does and immediately getting into his lap. “That could mean lots of things.”

Sirius feels a tug on his mouth. “Such as?”

You bury your head in his neck, voice vibrating against his skin. “It’d make a good band name.”

“It might,” he agrees, taking your face between both hands and removing you from him like a leech. A very pretty, beloved leech. “Do you feel like it might be time for bed, lovebug?”

Your eyes spark. “Yeah,” you say heartily.

“To sleep,” he clarifies.

“Oh.” Your face falls. “Well, no. I thought we could have sex first.”

Sirius guffaws, the sound short and loud, and his amusement really only worsens when you frown sullenly.

“Baby,” he tries gentling his tone, “I would love that, but you know why we can’t.”

“Why?” you ask obstinately.

Sirius pushes his thumbs into your cheeks, making wishful dimples on either side of your frown. “Because of what’s gotten into you.”

“But I want to,” you whine.

He pouts right back at you. “Me too, darling. It’s a tragedy.”

“Not even a kiss?” you ask, tilting your head in his hands and looking up at him with huge, sweet eyes. Have you been able to do that this whole time? Fuck, he’s lucky you’re not often feeling bold enough to use it.

“I could do a kiss,” he concedes.

“A nice one,” you demand.

Sirius feels his lips pull up. “Agreed. A nice one.”

You close your eyes, expectant, and he bends towards you, pressing his lips to yours sweetly. You taste like all manner of booze, but still his girl. You make a soft sound in your throat, lips parting for his, coaxing him in. In an extraordinary show of willpower, Sirius pulls away.

“Hey.” You look betrayed, and he can’t help himself, planting a quick peck on your nose that makes it scrunch adorably. “You said it’d be a nice one!”

“That felt pretty nice to me,” he says, laughing when you try to move in for more and he has to dodge you. He turns his head to the side and catches at your hands when they go for his shirt. “That’s it for tonight. If you want more kisses tomorrow, I promise to let you have as many as you like.”

You sigh, giving up and hooking your chin on his shoulder. “Your lips were, like, buzzing,” you mumble, wistful. “It was nice.”

“Pretty sure that’s just you, sweetness,” Sirius tells you kindly, breaking his promise once more to press his lips to your hair. “Ready for bed now?”

“To sleep?” you ask despondently.

“Yeah, baby. To sleep.”

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stevieschrodinger · 6 months ago

Text

Part One Two Three Four Five

“So Steve, I know you said that you don’t think you need anyone...” Eddie sighs, “do you think that implies that I think that what he thinks is wrong?”

“I think it implies you’ve lost your fucking mind.”

Eddie doesn’t even have the energy to glare at Dustin, it’s much easier to just pretend he hasn’t spoken, “okay, Steve-”

“Yeap, you’re really strong on establishing you know the guys name, which is like, a solid point in your favor.”

“I hate you,” Eddie says to the ceiling, neck at an odd angle where he’s flopped his head back over the arm of the couch, “so, Steve, I know you said you don’t need anyone, and you are totally right-”

“You’re a strong independent Omega who don’t need no Alpha!”

“So help me Henderson I will throw you out,” Eddie waits, but Dustin is finally silent on the matter, “Steve. I totally respect the fact that you are absolutely fine handling everything alone, and if you’re...happy with us, being friends, then I’m happy with that too. I did wonder, though, if you’d like to go on a date. With me. Maybe?” Eddie sighs, flopping his arms over his face, “I’m so bad at this. This is going to go so wrong and he’s going to hate me and never want to see me again and-”

“Eddie...has the Omega broken your brain? What the fuck is wrong with you man-”

“I don’t know! I don’t...I’ve literally never felt this way before, not about anyone. And Jamie, man, I know he’s not my pup, okay, Steve and I aren't dating, he’s literally my friends pup, that’s it but...I swear I would die for that kid, no question.”

“Okay...so just...ask him out? Steve I mean, not Jamie-”

Eddie huffs, “I don’t...I’m pretty sure I can’t. The more I think about it the more it feels...like Steve’s had a pretty bad run of Alphas, it sounds like, and I just don’t think he’d be interested. And he’s just literally had a pup, like Jamie is only just a month old, who am I to add to that, you know? Steve’s got enough to think about.”

“So...don’t ask him out?”

Eddie flops over onto his side, curling up so he can smush his face into the cushions, “but I really want to. I think it’s selfish though. I’m being selfish. I should just...be a good friend. Keep being a good friend.”

“And pine to death?”

“I mean. Seems like a reasonable way out.”

“Dude I do not know what to say to you,” the timer on the oven starts to buzz, “but at least you’re going to feed me, right?”

Eddie sighs, dragging himself out of the near suffocating safety of the gap in the couch cushions. He opens his message thread with Steve, scrolling back through the shared memes and screenshots and pictures. He reads little tidbits of conversation while he pulls out bowls and plates. The three dots appear, Eddie’s heart leaps a little because Steve is, right there. Right next door, with his phone in his hand, typing to Eddie.

‘I’d love some. I’ve made a banana cream pie if you want to take it back for your games night.’

Eddie sends back a shocked emoji, ‘I can’t take an entire pie.’

‘You won’t, my slice will be gone.’

Eddie smiles and slips his phone into his pocket. He slices two thick pieces of bread from the loaf he made this afternoon, wraps them, and then fills a bowl with casserole. Eddie’s pretty sure this bowl is Steve’s anyway; so many of their plates and bowls have been migrating back and forth it’s hard to tell any more, between Eddie’s dinners and Steve’s desserts.

He likes to bake something extra special for games nights though, he always says you can’t make just one cookie, or one slice of pie. He likes to make sweet things when he knows there will be people to give it to, otherwise, “I’ll just eat the whole thing Eddie!”

Eddie doesn’t see a problem with eating the whole thing, but he slips on his adventure crocs and heads out into the hall. Dustin doesn’t even tease too badly any more, even though Eddie’s sure it’s because he’s threatened to withhold Steve’s desserts.

Eddie knocks with the hand holding the bread, letting himself in when Steve calls, “it’s open!”

“Hey Steve, hey Jamie,” he sets Steve’s dinner on the little table, next to the juice and cutlery Steve’s already set out for himself.

“What do you have planned for them tonight?” Steve brings out a pie on a plate, a slice already gone, just like he said. It has real neat swirls of cream on top; it looks professional to Eddie, like you’d buy in a store.

“Destruction. Misery. Suffering. The usual.”

Steve hums, “uh hu. What color salad did you decide on in the end?”

Eddie sighs, “you say it Slaad. And I don’t know, what do you think?”

“I actually quite liked the idea for the dog shark thing, it was cute,” Steve hands over the pie, going on tip toes to kiss Eddie on the cheek as he hands it over.

“One home brew Bulette, coming right up,” Eddie replies absently. He’s pretty sure he’s gone at least a little pink, and Steve’s scent is fresh and bright in his nose for a moment, “I’d better…” Eddie gestures lamely with the pie, “you know.”

“Have fun!” Steve calls as Eddie lets himself out, “don’t go too hard on them!”

Eddie’s doing his best not too stare, he really is.

He has one foot on the stroller, rolling it gently back and forward. He has his guitar resting on the other knee, he strums, singing quietly to Jamie, “I'd rather be a forest than a street, yes, I would...if I could, I surely would.” Jamie burbles at him, waving his arms a little and making happy pup noises.

On the court, Steve laughs, and Eddie fails, and he looks. Steve’s wearing a tank top and those obscenely short shorts. Him and Chrissy are bouncing the ball at each other, catching it, doing a squat, a little jump, and bouncing it back. They’ve done all sorts of stuff like this, sweaty jock games. Steve’s short shorts riding up even further at the slightest provocation.

Jamie makes a noise, drawing Eddie’s attention back, “I'd rather feel the earth beneath my feet, yes, I would...if I could, I surely would,” Eddie sings, soft and slow.

Steve and Chrissy come over eventually, Steve lifting the bottom of his shirt to wipe at his sweaty face, fully showing Eddie his tummy in all it’s glory. It’s thick, but firm, decorated by a handful of stretch marks and a perfect dusting of happy trail, “thanks for keeping an eye.”

“Huh?” Eddie asks, feeling kind of dumb but still managing to strum along on auto pilot.

Next to him, Chrissy snickers around her water bottle.

“Thank you, for watching Jamie,” Steve says to him more slowly, smirking, his sweaty hair flopping across his forehead.

“Right, right, sure, of course. Anytime. Pleasure. Really.”

Next to him, Chrissy huffs. Eddie pointedly ignores it.

The knocking is awful. It’s relentless. It’s obnoxious. It’s definitely Robin.

“I know you’re in there!”

Yeap. Yeap that’s definitely Robin. Eddie groans into the couch cushion before dragging himself up. She’s speaking before he has the door fully open, “this is getting old.”

“And what might that be-”

Robin puts on the most obnoxious voice Eddie thinks he’s ever heard, she clasps her hands together, holding them to her chest and she bats her lashes coquettishly at the ceiling, “oh Eddie’s cooking is just the best ever. Did you know he plays guitar! He says he’ll teach Jamie when he’s old enough! And he’s so smart, he’s got so many books in his apartment-”

“Okay.”

“Did you know he’s artistic! He paints his little dungeon game miniatures and they’re so good-”

“All right.”

“You should just see him with Jamie-”

“Robin.”

“And he’s such a good Alpha! He’s so good to his friends, he puts in so much work-”

“And we are done,” Eddie goes to shut the door. He can’t handle this. He knows Robin probably means well, in her own meddling way, but he just...can’t. This has to be Steve’s choice, right? Steve’s been pretty clear why he went it alone, and Robin is just...teasing him. It makes Eddie feel all warm and bubbly inside, knowing that Steve says these things about him, that Steve...likes him. But...Steve has a pup, and just because he says these things behind closed doors, it doesn’t mean Eddie has any right to know them.

No matter how it makes him feel.

“Wait wait wait...can’t you just, ask him out? End all of our suffering?”

Eddie sighs, “Steve has enough going on without me making it more complicated, okay? Steve can...he’s perfectly capable of telling me this himself.”

“No he isn’t. Because Steve would never ask you to take on another Alpha’s pup.”

“He’s not another Alpha’s pup, he’s Steve’s pup,” Eddie tells her reflexively.

“Uh hu,” she has her hands on her hips now, looking at him expectantly.

Eddie swallows thickly, and he can’t quite look at Robin, “what if...what if I loose him?”

“You won’t. You know you won’t.”

“But-”

“Me and Chrissy are taking Jamie for the night, did you know that? Giving Steve a night off, and we’re getting some practice in for when we’re ready to have our own, you know?”

“I...did not know that.”

“Yeah.”

Eddie stands for a second, not sure what to say, down the hall, Steve’s door opens.

“-and it’s in the changing bag.”

“I got it.”

“Don’t forget to heat the formula to-”

“Steve,” Chrissy sounds exasperated, “we’ve got it,” she has Jamie in his car seat.

“Plus,” Robin whispers to him conspiratorially, “he’s going to have a heat at some point, so we gotta be ready for that. You know, wouldn’t be fair to which ever Alpha ends up helping him out-”

“I know what you’re doing,” Eddie growls, watching Steve fuss over the pup.

“Is it working?”

“Go away.”

Robin shrugs, and Eddie watches as she goes to Chrissy, taking the bag so Chrissy is just left with the car seat, “it’s going to be fine, and you can call us any time.”

Eddie ends up watching Steve, as Steve watches his pup and his friends disappear at the end of the hall. His shoulder sag a little, and Eddie can't help but go to him.

“Hey.”

Steve sighs, “would it be weird if we followed them?”

“Maybe. I’ll drive though.”

Steve smiles up at him, and it looks kind of watery, “what if we break into their place and take him back?”

Eddie shrugs, “pretty sure we could just ask but, whatever makes you feel better, I guess.”

Steve sighs, “I sound crazy,” and a tear finally escapes, sliding down his cheek.

Eddie can’t help but scoop him up into a big hug, “I think you sound like the best dad in the world. I’ll get you one of those mugs. You know, for fathers day.”

Steve sighs, and sniffles, “thanks Eddie.”

“You want take out? I’ve primed you a miniature, if you still want to try your hand.”

“Can we watch a shit film too?”

“Oh fuck me I’d love to watch a shit film,” Eddie says vehemently into Steve’s hair.

Steve laughs against his chest.

Steve doesn’t have it in him to try painting his owlbear tonight; he picks forlornly at his duck rolls, “I’m sorry I’m not very good company.”

“It’s okay, I get it...I miss him too.”

“Oh, so you admit I’m being shit company?” Steve smiles for the first time this evening.

“Oh, yeah, the absolute worst.”

Steve phone pings and he practically dives for it, but then he melts, face going soft as he looks at the message, “Jamie’s asleep,” he shows Eddie the picture.

“Safe and sound,” Eddie reassures Steve for probably the fifteenth time this evening.

“I didn’t...I mean I knew I’d love my pup but...I didn’t know it would feel like this, you know? It feels crazy. And I mean...Jamie’s happy, and healthy, and that just makes absolutely everything feel...right? Does that make sense? Like...fulfilled.”

“I...yeah. I think I understand,” Eddie tells him quietly, because he feels like that about the both of them, as long as Steve, and by extension, Jamie, are both happy and healthy then...yeah. Yeah, the whole world feels like it’s an okay place to be.

“Eddie I-”

“Steve-”

They speak over each other, and end up laughing, leaning closer together on the couch. The remains of Steve’s half eaten dinner get moved to the safety of the coffee table. They’re close enough then that Eddie can see the dim light from the TV reflecting in Steve’s eyes.

“You go,” Eddie whispers to him.

Steve shakes his head, but takes Eddie’s hand in both of his, rubbing his thumb over Eddie’s knuckles, Steve whispers back, “you first.”

“I...I really like having you in my life Steve. And I don’t want to...to fuck that up, by expecting more from you.”

“I...yeah. Same.”

“Same?” It comes out as a surprised laugh.

Steve’s laughing too now, “what do you want me to say I mean...you pretty much covered it.”

“I have spent ages agonizing over this and and and- all I get is- yeah. Same. I guess. I suppose.”

Steve is properly laughing now, “come here, I’m sorry, I’m sorry” he pulls Eddie close, and manages to stop laughing long enough to kiss his cheek, “okay,” Steve takes a deep breath, “I’ve just had a pup, and both me and that pup care about you so very much, and I did not want to mess it up by expecting you to take that on, okay?”

“You’re not a chore Steve, neither of you are a chore.”

“I mean he was sick on me the other day and that kind of felt-”

Eddie cuts him off with a kiss. It’s soft, a gentle press of lips that Steve...sighs into. Relaxes into. Lets Eddie take both their weight. Steve’s hands find their way into Eddie’s hair as Eddie gently wets Steve’s lip, and Steve lets him in.

It feels like coming home.

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seobluuu · 20 days ago

Text

𓂃 ࣪⋆💭˚ ༘ melting into you ⋆ 장원영

now playing : melting by kali uchis ♪ ⊹

in which time seems to melt away as wonyoung and y/n bask in each other’s presence. no real conflict — just pure bliss, soft kisses, shared laughter, and the kind of love that feels like honey dripping from a spoon.

alternatively. a slow, dreamy day in the life of two girlfriends

starring. jang wonyoung x fem!reader

word count. 1.8k

genre. (domestic) fluff hehe , taller wony

the morning light filters through the curtains in thin, golden stripes, painting lazy patterns across the sheets. you wake before her — you always do — but you don’t mind. not when it gives you moments like this.

wonyoung is curled into your side, her cheek smushed against your shoulder, lips slightly parted as she breathes softly. her long lashes flutter just once, like she’s dreaming, and you resist the urge to kiss the tip of her nose. barely.

instead, you let your fingers trail feather-light over her arm, tracing invisible shapes against her skin. she's warm, always so warm, like sunshine given human form.

a small whine escapes her as she stirs, nuzzling closer, her arm tightening around your waist.

“no,” she mumbles, voice thick with sleep. “too early.”

you laugh, low and quiet, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “i didn’t say anything.”

“you were thinking it,” she accuses, finally blinking up at you with those big, doe eyes. even half-asleep, she’s devastatingly pretty.

“thinking what?”

“thinking about… moving. or...or making me get up.” she pouts, and it’s so exaggerated you can’t help but kiss that, too.

“never,” you promise, brushing her hair back. “we can stay here forever.”

she hums, satisfied, and tucks herself under your chin. “good.”

you manage to slip out of bed without waking wonyoung — a rare feat, considering how tuned in she is to your every movement. but the second your feet hit the floor, a soft whine follows, tugging at your heartstrings before you’ve even taken two steps.

“where you going?” her voice is muffled by the pillow she’s now clutching in your absence, her fingers curling into the fabric as if it’s a poor substitute for you. for a moment, you consider crawling right back under the covers.

“making you breakfast,” you say, tip toeing to press a lingering kiss on her cheeks, breathing in the faint scent of her shampoo “go back to sleep.”

she blinks up at you, slow and drowsy, her lashes fluttering like butterfly wings. adorably disheveled, with one strap of her pajama top slipping off her shoulder, she looks every bit of the spoiled princess she pretends not to be. “but i want you,” she murmurs, her lower lip jutting out just enough to make your resolve waver.

“and you’ll have me,” you laugh, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face, your fingers lingering against her cheek, “after i make sure you don’t starve.”

she groans dramatically, flopping onto her back with an exaggerated sigh, one arm flung over her forehead like a victorian damsel in distress. “fineeee,” she says, though the way her toes curl into the sheets betrays her reluctance. “but if you burn the pancakes, i’m divorcing you.”

you pause, halfway to the door, and shoot her a look over your shoulder. “we’re not even married.”

a slow, sleepy smirk tugs at her lips as she turns her face toward you, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “yet.”

the word hangs in the air, sweet and promising, and suddenly, breakfast can wait just a little longer.

breakfast is… edible. mostly.

the first pancake is a disaster — lopsided, a little too crisp at the edges, the golden-brown hue tipping into charred in one unfortunate spot. you wince as you flip it onto the plate, already preparing an apology. but wonyoung just watches you with that soft, amused glint in her eyes, her chin propped on her hand like this is the most fascinating thing she’s ever seen.

she takes one delicate bite, chewing thoughtfully. you hold your breath, waiting for the inevitable teasing — did you summon a demon to help you cook? or is this your way of telling me we should order takeout forever? — but instead, her lips curl into a pleased little smile.

“y/nie, this is perfect,” she declares, popping another piece into her mouth like it’s the most delicious thing she’s ever tasted.

you scoff. “liar.”

“no,” she says, reaching over to steal a bite from your plate, her fingers brushing yours just to watch you flush. “it’s perfect because you made it.”

your heart does something dangerous in your chest, a fluttery leap that makes your stomach swoop. you try to hide it behind an eyeroll, but she sees right through you, always does.

“you’re ridiculous,” you mutter, but she just grins, syrup glistening on her lips.

and then, because she’s wonyoung, because she loves to catch you off guard, she leans in, close enough that you can smell the sweetness of maple and the faint floral hint of her perfume.

“prove it,” she whispers.

you don’t need to be told twice.

when you kiss her, she tastes like syrup and morning sunlight, and yeah, maybe breakfast isn’t so bad after all.

the supermarket hums with fluorescent lights and the occasional squeak of shopping cart wheels. you’re debating between two brands of pasta when you feel wonyoung’s chin hook over your shoulder, her breath warm against your ear.

“that one,” she says, pointing decisively at the more expensive option.

you squint at the price tag. “wony. this is literally just fancy mac and cheese.”

“but it’s shaped like stars,” she argues, as if this is a perfectly logical justification.

so you put it in the cart.

the trouble starts in the snack aisle.

you spot your favorite chips — just out of reach, perched mockingly on the top shelf. you stretch onto your tiptoes, fingers straining —

“need help?” wonyoung chirps from behind you, already grinning.

you huff. “i’ve got it—” (you don't)

she steps up beside you, effortlessly plucks the bag off the shelf, and dangles it just above your head, her smile widening.

“jang wonyoung.”

“y/l/n y/n.”

you cross your arms. “give.”

she tilts her head, faux-innocent. “what’s the magic word?”

“please before I commit a felony.”

she laughs, bright and unrepentant, but finally relents — only to yank the bag back at the last second when you reach for it.

“oops!”

“you’re evil,” you grumble, hopping uselessly as she holds it aloft.

“and you’re adorable,” she counters, leaning down to kiss your scrunched-up nose before finally handing it over. “here. since you asked so nicely.”

the cashier watches your entire exchange with poorly concealed amusement. wonyoung, of course, leans into the bit, slinging an arm around your shoulders as she whispers:

“don’t worry, baby. you’ll hit a growth spurt someday.”

the bathwater is almost too hot, steam curling in lazy tendrils above the surface, but wonyoung sinks into it with a sigh, her head tipping back against the edge of the tub. the flush of warmth paints her skin pink, her collarbones glistening where droplets cling to them.

"tell me if it’s too warm," you murmur, working the shampoo between your fingers before smoothing it through her strands. the scent of coconut and something faintly floral blooms in the humid air.

she hums, already pliant under your touch, her lashes fluttering shut. "it's perfect."

you massage her scalp, slow and methodical, fingertips pressing gentle circles against her skin, and she melts — her shoulders slumping, lips parting on a quiet sigh. it’s moments like these that unravel you: wonyoung, usually so poised, so effortless in her grace, reduced to putty in your hands. her neck arches slightly, and you have to resist the urge to press your lips there.

"feels good?" you ask, already knowing the answer.

"mhm." her voice is syrup-thick, but drowsy. "love your hands."

you smile, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head before rinsing the shampoo away.

later, when the water cools and her skin is pruned at the edges, she turns in your arms, her back to your chest, and reaches for your hands beneath the surface. her fingers lace with yours for a moment before she guides your index finger to the inside of her forearm.

"draw something," she says, voice soft, half a request and half a dare.

you trace a heart first, the shape blooming under your touch. Then a star. then the first letter of her name, slow and deliberate.

she shivers, goosebumps rising in the wake of your fingertip.

"y/nie. what’s this one?" she asks when you switch to shapes she can’t see.

"a secret," you whisper into the damp curve of her shoulder, your lips brushing the words into her.

3am. the world outside is wrapped in a hush so deep it feels like you two are the only souls awake. the city's distant glow paints soft patterns on the ceiling, while the occasional sigh of wind through the trees whispers against your window.

she shifts beside you, her sleepy mumble dissolving into a contented sigh as she instinctively seeks you out. one arm drapes across your waist, her fingers curling into the hem of your sleep shirt like she's making sure you're real. her leg hooks over yours with practiced ease, the weight of it warm and comforting — her own silent way of keeping you close even in sleep.

"mm…you awake?" she murmurs, her voice thick with sleep yet still somehow melodic.

you turn toward her, the mattress dipping gently as you face each other in the dim light. "now I am," you whisper back, unable to stop the smile that tugs at your lips.

moonlight spills through the curtains, turning everything silver and soft. it traces the curve of wonyoung's cheek, catches in her eyelashes, plays in the strands of hair that have escaped her messy bun. she looks like something out of a dream — all sleepy smiles and rumpled pajamas, so beautiful it makes your heart beat rapidly.

when your thumb brushes her cheekbone, she leans into the touch like a flower toward sunlight. "what's on your mind?" you ask.

for a moment, there's just the sound of her breathing, the occasional car passing in the distance. then, so softly you feel it more than hear it, "do you think we'll always be like this?"

"like what?" you prompt, though you think you already know.

"happy," she breathes, "this happy."

you take her hand between both of yours. "not every day," you admit honestly. "some days will be hard. we'll get grumpy and say things we don't mean. there'll be burnt toast and rainy afternoons and moments when we drive each other crazy." you bring her fingers to your lips, pressing a kiss to each knuckle. "but we'll always find our way back to this mhm?"

wonyoung exhales, a soft release of breath that sounds like relief. she nestles closer, her forehead coming to rest against yours. "promise?" she whispers, and it's not really a question but a quiet plea for reassurance.

you answer by pulling her closer, by tucking the blanket more securely around her shoulders, by pressing a kiss to her temple that lingers just a heartbeat too long.

and when she sighs, content, and drifts back to sleep in your arms, you know — some promises don't need to be spoken to be kept.

seobluu speaks 💬 whys the last part lowk emotional? idk im just a hopeless romantic like that (someone get me a gf pls) — 🪽

#seobluuu writes ⋆˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆#ive #wonyoung #jang wonyoung #ive x reader #wonyoung x reader #ive imagines #wonyoung imagines #kpop #wlw #fluff

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syluslvrgirl · 18 days ago

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lads men as professors

content: fluff, suggestive, think of the lads men as young professors!! notes: thank you to @sylusqt for inspiring this, particularly for professor caleb xia’s bit!! this is my first time writing anything for xavier and rafayel so please let me know if it’s alright! plus this was all word vomit so it's semi proof-read T-T i hope everyone enjoys ;) <333

PROFESSOR XAVIER SHEN

teaches astronomy with a special interest in stellar astronomy; absolutely enamoured about stars and will go on some beautifully voiced lectures about their life cycle, evolution and so much more!

not only that but the way he taught left you wanting to excel. he was lax but definitely worked hard on his lectures and carried an air of royalty around him. he came to class often wearing a white or cream button up paired with grey slacks and always carried the cutest star charm around his bag!!

however professor shen is definitely known for always sleeping before class. the poor man is usually buried under paperwork on his desks as the students roll in, wondering whose turn it is this time to wake him up.

this time you figure you might as well do it (not because you want to take a closer look at him at all!) and as you lean down to tap his shoulder, he stirs and turns his face in your direction, eyes slowly opening and you internally feel your heart skip a beat, because this man was gorgeous despite having been just woke up.

you let out a little 'sorry professor, it's nearly class time', before scurrying to your seat in the lecture hall, too stunned to say anything else and too taken aback by the way his sparkling blue eyes had bore into yours. you swear it’s just a tiny little crush but the way his eyes continue to find yours during his lecture make you crumble in the best way possible on the inside.

and then there was that other occasion, a small class trip to the local observatory where you had to learn how to find different constellations in the night sky. you were struggling with figuring out where to look, frustrated with your lack of constellations found until professor shen came by offering you help.

he adjusts your telescope before motioning for you to have a look inside, and there you see the beautiful cygnus staring right back at you. as you talking about how stunning it is, his hands seem a little too close to yours and so does his face. before you can say anything he's gone off to help another student, leaving you with the lingering feeling of his hand that was guiding yours to hold the telescope.

when your back in class again after that incident, you CANNOT tell what that man was thinking. the way he’s looking at you seems normal and it’s like he’s pretending that nothing happened, but you definitely felt something there! determined to get to the bottom of this case, you email him to see him during his office hours….

PROFESSOR RAFAYEL QI

who teaches fine arts and has a great interest in fine arts history, is ALWAYS going on rants about the greats, his favourite artists and who he thinks are the biggest flops of the centuries! he has some great takes and a majority of the time everyone is agreeing with him.

not to mention he himself has so much artwork that he’s produced, making him semi-famous on campus, whenever he holds an exhibition he’ll give free tickets to his class. however none of you can tell whether he’s joking or not when he says he’ll mark attendance at the exhibition and that he'll fail anyone who doesn't come....

has a great relationship with his students but is still quite stern, very critical of any artwork or essays you submit, this man does not hold back only because he wants the best for everyone and is determined to be the birthing ground for the artists of your century.

when he reviews your first piece of artwork you are absolutely terrified about hearing his critique, but when he gives you a “this one is amazing y/n, i can’t wait to see your hands produce more works of art” you almost cry of joy. a compliment from THE PROFESSOR QI, you’d treasure that until the day you die. you even write it down in your calendar as a way to commemorate it.

determined to get another compliment from him, you work day and night, often staying late in the art rooms just to adjust your sculpture, add a few more tweaks to your painting or typing up another essay on the reproduction of art or how art can be involved within political movements. you're normally coming home at late hours or sometimes turning up to his class with paint on your clothes!

and one night you stay back only to bump into…professor qi! he's there working on his latest piece and you can't help but stare in awe and marvel as he paints the strokes on the large canvas, that almost covers the whole wall of the room from left to right and top to bottom. it's almost like he's dancing with the canvas, the way he swirls the paintbrush about and moves from section to section.

he notices your presence and thus begins a long few nights of commenting on your work whilst you listen to him tell tales of his many exhibitions, how he gets his inspiration and much much more. you can't tell whether you're feelings for this man are blossoming or not, but something in you tells you this is much more than just admiration....

PROFESSOR ZAYNE LI

not only is he a renowned professor who has written several top notch research papers on the cardiovascular system and contributed to other medical research, but he himself has a reputation at your medical school as one of the youngest professors holding a doctorate title.

this not only makes him a tad intimidating because of his constant rbf but also a little awe-inspiring. like hello this man started young and even took half the time to gain a doctorate than a lot of other doctors have done?? he's either insane or super dedicated to his work, or even both. not to mention doctor/professor li is quite a legend at your medical school.

at first when you were in his class you WERE SCARED. you had barely scrapped by with your grades in college but had managed to successfully pass your exams in order to enter into akso medical school. you knew professor li was not only a harsh marker but he would only pass the best of the best, with many failing his classes and having to retake them.

determined to not fall behind you worked your ass off, not only on your essay assignments but on your practical work as well. studying day and night even pulling all nighters at some point. you excelled at your work even receiving a small smile from professor li as you rattle on in your presentation about the need for proper medical research on women experiencing different heart attack symptoms to men.

but those all nighters did come with a cost, not only was your energy draining but a lot of the times it was hard to stay awake in class despite the fact that you were downing at least two cups of coffee before heading in. several times you've dozed off within professor li's class, not because his voice is boring, moreso his voice had a calming effect on you.

oftentimes, professor li would end up having to wake you up, slightly tapping on your shoulders, murmuring your name. he would give you a little warning that "you should try your best in making sure you get enough sleep, because how are you going to save lives if you can’t take care of yourself." (what a gentleman!!)

it gets to a point where he does let you sleep a little longer after each class, not only because he knows you pour your heart and soul into his class and your work but because he worries a little about your lack of sleep and your wellbeing.

so when you wake up and it is almost dark outside the room you’re situated in, you scramble to grab your things, cussing at yourself for missing yet another class of professor li's. it's not until you look up that you notice he's also still in class, leaning back in his chair, eyes closed and glasses perched on the bridge of his nose.

as you're trying to motion him awake, whispering his name, he wakes up and his hazel eyes behind his glasses just seem a little more handsome than you expected them to be. you apologise for falling asleep but professor li just nods. instead he asks "how about you help me with some research i've been doing on heart attack symptoms in women? i could use another expert on the case," and you can't help but feel your heart flutter just a bit at the grand opportunity he's offered you!

PROFESSOR SYLUS QIN

head professor of the international business course and also the most ruthless, mean and scariest professor on campus. not because of his killer looks and glare but because he absolutely loves to put his students through torture. you had heard the many horror stories and you were begging to anyone out there to let you survive the wrath of professor qin.

going into his class you were scared out of your wits and you really wanted to drop his class for something else, but unfortunately his class was a requirement for your course. you were determined to do your best and hopefully end up as top of the class. you had a good record with your grades and you weren't going to let that get ruined just because of one class!

it was just your luck that you ended up coming in late on your first class with him and so began professor qin's torment on little old you. at first it was making you answer questions in front of class, correcting your every little mistake with a smirk riddled on his lips as he pushed his glasses up on his hot evil face.

then it inflicted onto your grades, first it was getting a 65% on your report about how neoliberalism puts a dent on the international market and trade relations, which fair enough you hadn’t really put much work into that one. then on one of your major assignments there's big fat crosses everywhere and you can't tell if you're actually that bad or he just absolutely hates your guts!

you two are definitely the type to argue over things in class, not only is professor qin a big nerd, but you consider yourself an even bigger nerd who's read through ALL the readings including the optional extra reading material. so when he gives a lecture on a theory that you think differently about, you're raising your hand faster than you can say 'professor qin'.

it gets to the point where everyone else is betting in class on who would be winning the argument next. so far its been a tie between the two of you but everyone's hoping you end up on top because it's finally time for an underdog to defeat the big dog professor qin!

fast forward to another day in class and to everybody's surprise (not really, everyone's used to it now), you and professor qin are at it again!! but this time you're fuming and furious, only because you've had a bad couple of days....professor qin isn't making it any easier especially with his intellectually, lowkey sexy (but you won't admit it) sneering remarks. maybe it's your tired fuming brain talking but it doesn't take long until the words "you'd be hotter if you kept your mouth closed!" leave your mouth and you're absolutely flustered, slinking back down into your seat wishing the ground would swallow you up.

this only earns you a chuckle from professor qin who asks that you refrain from such comments in class, making you hid your face within you hands. you mumble a “sorry professor qin” before you try and pretend as though you hadn’t made the most embarrassing comment ever to your professor. no one was going to ever let you live this down and apparently that included professor qin, who had slipped you a note in your returned test to ‘see him in his office outside of his office hours’…

PROFESSOR CALEB XIA

not only is professor xia an amazing aerospace engineer professor, but he is super chill and friendly with his students. class is always welcoming, he's cracking a few jokes to ease tensions during exams and he's always prepping something super cool for each class to make learning fun!

he's got a boyish charm to him that has a lot of the girls swooning!! also probably has a little fanclub running for him too where all the people in there are trying to get at least one photo of him in his farspace fleet uniform. everyone knows he's been in the farspace fleet but he has yet to show anyone a photo or pull up to class in his actual uniform. (please professor xia, just spare the club one photo!!!)

as an aeroplane lover, you loved being in professor xia's class. not only because his way of teaching was so captivating but it was clear he loved doing his job and that made you enjoy the class even more. it did help a little that he was easy on the eyes. who wouldn't want a hot professor talking to you about the aerodynamics of the f-22 raptor fighter jet. and his hotness definitely helped you concentrate just a little better too!

however like many college students, you were broke and so the only way you were able to salvage yourself any bit of money was through your writing. writing was only a hobby for you but after submitting a simple but meaningful short story into a small writing contest, you soon found yourself under a publishing company with your very own editor and agent. at first you meddled in writing fantasy, a little poetry and some young adult work but your best-received work yet was, your erotica.

you were hesitant to write erotic novels. who in the world was going to read this?? however after seeing how well your first erotic novel did, you thought that it wouldn’t be too bad to give it a try. plus it paid the bills very well and it helped that you were writing it under a pen name so that your real identity wouldn’t be exposed. unfortunately with both college and writing, that meant that you were constantly hit with deadlines.

so one night, with an upcoming deadline for a draft of your latest erotic novel and an essay for professor xia’s class due, you were feeling hounded as you frantically worked on the both of them. you're making sure you've set up for the absolute hottest, thirstiest sex to end your novel, and that your essay is perfectly written in academic language and referenced. finally, at the early hours of 5am, you submit your essay and your draft novel despite barely being able to keep your eyes open.

crashing into bed, you’re happy and content after finishing both. until you wake up receiving a call from your editor wondering why on earth you’ve submitted to them an essay about how to effectively ensure wingspan of an aeroplane does not impact on its flight. you’re scrambling out of bed, checking your emails and an email from professor xia sits right at the top of your inbox. in said email, professor xia says he’d like to see you after class regarding the work you’ve submitted and that he’ll let it slide just this once if you let him correct a few things in your ending scene….

#syluslvrgirl writes #lads xavier #lads rafayel #lads zayne #lads sylus #lads caleb #lads fluff #lads imagine #lads drabbles #lnds xavier #lnds rafayel #lnds zayne #lnds sylus #lnds caleb #love and deepspace #lads x reader

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ivyues · 6 months ago

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Future Hyung-in-Law | 3 | ⋅ Seungmin

Seungmin x Lee Know's sister

As your relationship with Seungmin blossoms, your brother begrudgingly comes to accept it.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

It’s late, the room softly lit by the warm glow of a bedside lamp. You’re lying on your side, facing Seungmin, who’s stretched out beside you. The blanket is pulled up to your waists, and you can feel the comforting heat of his body close to yours. There’s a mix of quiet and unspoken melancholy in the air, though you both try to ignore it for now.

Seungmin is about to go on tour, and it's clear from the way he keeps glancing at his phone that he’s still trying to adjust to the reality of the upcoming months apart. His hand absentmindedly plays with your fingers, his touch gentle as if memorizing every curve and line.

“You know,” he starts, his voice low and steady, “I don’t think I’ve fully wrapped my head around the fact that I won’t see my girlfriend for months.”

You glance at him, a teasing grin spreading across your face. “Your what?”

He blinks at you, caught off guard. “My girlfriend?” he repeats, his brow furrowing slightly in confusion.

“You know,” you say, propping yourself up on your elbow, “it’s funny how you skipped an important step there. I don’t recall anyone officially asking me to be their girlfriend.”

Seungmin’s ears turn pink as he sits up a little, caught. “Wait, what do you mean? I—”

You cut him off with a laugh, “You asked my brother for my hand, remember? Which, first of all, is very outdated of you. But you never actually asked me.”

A sheepish smile spreads across his face. “That’s not fair. I didn’t think you’d care about the formality. I thought it was obvious by… everything we’ve been doing.”

“Oh, it was obvious,” you say, pretending to sound unimpressed. “But still, kind of bold of you to think you could just skip that part.”

He groans, flopping back onto the pillow dramatically. “Fine. I’ll do it right now, then.”

You burst out laughing and swat his arm playfully. “Don’t be so lame, Seungmin. The moment’s already passed.”

He catches your hand before you can pull it away, turning serious for just a moment. “Well, I don’t care if it’s lame. I want you to know how much you mean to me before I go.” His voice softens, and his thumb brushes over your knuckles. “I didn’t mean to skip anything, but I also don’t need to ask you for something we both already know.”

Your teasing falters as the sincerity of his words sinks in. You tuck yourself closer to him, burying your face in his chest to hide the smile you can’t seem to suppress. “Fine, fine,” you mumble into his shirt. “I guess I’ll let it slide this time.”

His laugh rumbles in his chest as he hugs you tighter. “Guess that means you really are my girlfriend then.”

“Guess so,” you reply softly, and the two of you fall into a comfortable silence, savoring the last quiet moments before the distance comes between you.

As you settle back, Seungmin shifts slightly, looking down at you with a playful glint in his eyes. "By the way," he starts, his tone teasing, "don't even think about stealing one of my hoodies before I leave."

You blink at him, feigning innocence. "Who said I was going to steal one?"

He raises an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. "Oh, come on. You’ve been eyeing my navy hoodie all night like it’s already yours."

You pout, trying to look affronted. "I was not! And besides, it’s only fair – boyfriends are supposed to let their girlfriends steal hoodies. It’s like an unwritten rule."

Seungmin smirks, crossing his arms over his chest. "First of all, you’re not stealing it. Borrowing maybe, but stealing? No way. Second, I’m leaving for months. If I give it to you, what am I supposed to wear when I miss you?”

The softness in his voice catches you off guard, and for a moment, you’re tempted to let it go. But the teasing glint in his eyes tells you he’s messing with you.

You sit up, grabbing his arm and leaning closer. “Okay, let’s compromise. You keep the navy one, and I get the grey one. That way, we both have something.”

He looks at you like he’s pretending to think it over. “Hmm. Tempting. But what’s stopping you from stealing both before I even leave?”

“Nothing,” you admit with a mischievous grin.

Seungmin sighs dramatically, leaning back into the pillows. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet, you’re dating me,” you reply, already plotting your hoodie heist.

“Unfortunately,” he mutters, though the way he pulls you closer betrays how much he doesn’t mean it. Later, when you do end up “borrowing” the grey hoodie, Seungmin only shakes his head, a fond smile playing at his lips.

-----

The tour bus hums softly as the members settle into their routines. Seungmin is tucked into a corner, his phone propped up against his knee. He’s quietly face-timing you, a soft smile playing on his lips as he listens to you talk. Every so often, he chuckles or murmurs a reply, his voice warm and gentle.

Across the bus, Lee Know watches with narrowed eyes. He’s not annoyed – more amused – but there’s a hint of exasperation as Seungmin’s fingers hover over his screen, typing furiously the second the call ends.

“Is he always like this now?” Lee Know mutters under his breath.

Changbin, who’s been lounging beside him, follows Lee Know’s gaze and grins. “You mean, texting his girlfriend every five seconds?”

Lee Know scoffs. “Girlfriend. They’re still in that sickening puppy love phase. It’s all cute and cuddly now, but I’m dreading the day they have their first fight.”

Changbin raises an eyebrow. “Why?”

“Because,” Lee Know says flatly, “I’m going to have to hear all about it. Seungmin will probably vent to me in the most annoyingly cryptic way possible, and then she’ll want to explain her side, and I’ll get dragged into it whether I want to or not.”

Changbin laughs, shaking his head. “You act like you’re some innocent bystander. If you want them to confide in you, maybe try acting a little less like... that.”

Lee Know turns to him, unimpressed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’m just saying,” Changbin teases, leaning back with a smug grin, “if you stop acting like a grumpy cat about their relationship, maybe they’ll trust you more when things actually get tough. Right now, you look like you’re plotting a way to sabotage their cute little love story.”

Lee Know rolls his eyes. “I’m not plotting anything.”

“Sure, sure,” Changbin says, patting his shoulder. “Just don’t be surprised when they go to me for advice instead of you. I’ll be the supportive older brother figure, while you sulk in the background.”

Lee Know sighs dramatically but doesn’t argue further, muttering something about how he’s only teasing because he cares. Changbin just grins, already imagining how Lee Know will handle it when the inevitable teasing turns into actual heartfelt support.

-----

After a whirlwind tour, they finally had a few days off to unwind. With the chaos of the road behind them, Lee Know decided it was the perfect time to visit his parents and catch up with his family. Seungmin, on the other hand, was tagging along – not just for the break but to finally introduce himself as your boyfriend and of course to see you again.

The drive was quiet for the first few minutes, but Lee Know couldn't resist breaking the silence with his usual teasing tone.

“So, ready to meet my parents?” Lee Know glanced at Seungmin, his eyes gleaming with mischief.

Seungmin shifted in his seat, his hands fidgeting nervously. “I’m not nervous.”

Lee Know shot him a skeptical look. “Uh-huh. Sure you’re not. I saw you turn pale when we passed the exit.”

Seungmin groaned, leaning back in the seat. “I just want it to go well, okay? I’m not just your bandmate anymore, hyung. This is different.”

Lee Know chuckled. “Relax. They already like you. Just don’t start blushing every time they ask you about your relationship with their daughter.”

Seungmin buried his face in his hands for a moment, muttering something incoherent. Lee Know laughed, clearly enjoying himself as the car neared their destination.

The car pulls into the driveway, and Seungmin exhales deeply as they step out. Before he can dwell on his nerves, the front door swings open, and you step outside, beaming.

Without hesitation, you rush to Seungmin, throwing your arms around him in a tight hug. He stiffens for a split second, surprised by the public affection, but quickly melts into your embrace, wrapping his arms around you.

“Missed you,” you whisper, and he smiles softly.

Lee Know, standing off to the side with his bag, raises an eyebrow. “Wow, okay. Not even an ‘hello’ for me?”

From the doorway, Lee Know’s mom chimes in, her tone playful but firm. “Minho, don’t tease them. Bring the rest of the bags in before the food gets cold.”

Lee Know pauses, momentarily taken aback, looking eyes with Seungmin, who was still hugging you, as he heads inside.

Seungmin suppresses a grin, the earlier tension in his chest easing. If Lee Know’s mom was going to stop her son from teasing, maybe this wouldn’t feel like walking into the lion’s den after all.

Dinner is lively and filled with warm chatter, your parents asking Seungmin questions that walk the line between teasing and genuinely interested. He answers with his usual charm, and you can tell how much your parents are enjoying this new addition to the family.

Seungmin sits beside you, his arm occasionally brushing yours. Underneath the table, his fingers subtly graze your hand, and you glance at him with a knowing look. Smiling faintly, he finally lets his fingers slide between yours, holding your hand out of view of the table.

You bite back a smile, warmth blooming in your chest. Across the table, Lee Know catches the movement. His eyes narrow slightly in mock disapproval as he watches you two, but he doesn’t say anything, letting the moment pass without interruption.

The conversation flows around you, and you notice Lee Know giving you a slight shake of his head, as if to say, Really? Right here? You respond with an innocent shrug, but his lips twitch into an amused smirk before he looks away.

Later that evening, the hum of conversation from the living room fades as you wander into the quiet kitchen, spotting Lee Know leaning against the counter with a glass of water in hand. He glances up at you but doesn’t say anything, just raises an eyebrow as if to ask, What now?

You step closer, leaning against the counter opposite him. “Hey,” you start softly, your tone a little hesitant. “I wanted to talk to you.”

Lee Know sips his water, watching you with mild curiosity. “I’ve had too many of those serious talks lately.”

You take a breath. “I just... I know this probably isn’t the situation you imagined or wanted. Honestly, it’s not what I thought would happen either. I didn’t think much of it when Seungmin and I first started texting. It was so casual, you know? No pressure. And maybe—” You pause, meeting his gaze. “Maybe that’s why it worked.”

He studies you for a moment, then shrugs, “I mean, what do you want me to say? It’s fine. Date him. Just leave me out of the details, yeah?” gesturing to where you had been holding hands earlier.

You can’t help but laugh lightly at his bluntness. “Noted. Don’t worry, you won’t be getting any sappy updates from us.”

Lee Know sets his glass down and looks at you with a glimmer of amusement. “Speaking of details I didn’t ask for, Seungmin called me hyung-in-law earlier.”

Your eyes widen for a moment before you smirk. “Well, maybe you brought that upon yourself after all.”

“How exactly?” Lee Know asks, crossing his arms.

You give him a knowing look but don’t answer directly. Instead, as you turn to leave the kitchen, you glance over your shoulder and say with a sly smile, “Thanks for forgetting your bag.”

-----

The teasing rivalry between Seungmin and Lee Know lived on as usual, reasing a peak during a recent group interview. As usual, the questions were light-hearted, but Seungmin’s answers were quick, witty, and sharp, often leaving Lee Know struggling to keep up. Each remark carried just enough bite to be playful without crossing the line, a delicate balance Seungmin seemed to master effortlessly.

Later, during practice, Seungmin’s energy was palpable. He moved through the routines with a focus that caught Lee Know’s attention. He couldn’t ignore the nagging feeling that Seungmin was holding something back – something more than just the usual rivalry. It wasn’t defiance, but rather a quiet confidence, as if Seungmin was proving not just his place in the group but that he could meet Lee Know’s gaze as an equal.

At one point, during a break, Seungmin pulled off his hoodie, revealing just the T-shirt underneath. Lee Know, who had been sitting across the room, glanced up at the sound of Seungmin stretching, and that’s when he saw it: a faint mark at the base of Seungmin’s neck, normally hidden by the collar of his shirt. It was barely visible, but the shape and color were unmistakable – a bruise, a love bite, something far more intimate than what he had expected.

Lee Know’s breath caught in his throat as his gaze lingered for just a second too long. He quickly looked away, trying to pretend like he hadn’t seen it, but the realization hit him like a ton of bricks. Seungmin and you... were definitely up to more than just hugging and holding hands. The playful rivalry, the extra effort – he understood now. There was something deeper between them.

Later that evening, after practice had ended, Seungmin’s phone buzzed with a message from you. He smiled at the text before sending his reply:

“By the way, you should not mark me if you want a boyfriend who is alive – Just a thought.”

pt.4 | pt.5 | masterlist

#seungmin imagines #stray kids imagines #skz imagines #seungmin scenarios #stray kids scenarios #seungmin #stray kids #skz #skz scenarios #skz x reader #skz x you #stray kids fanfic #skz fanfic #skz fluff #seungmin fluff #stray kids x reader #seungmin x reader #stray kids fluff

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buttsmasher · 6 months ago

Text

Gassy Roommate Paiten (Edited & Extended)

Warnings/Tags: Gay Face Farting, Underwear Stealing, Somewhat Willing Victim, Straight x Gay, Bullying, F slur used quite a bit, Face Farting, Eproctophilia

You remember the first time you met Paiten. He was a cool guy, a little bit of a gym rat, but overall, pretty chill guy to hang with. You guys would hang out a lot and eventually he moved in when Dustin moved out.

No one really knew, but you were totally into Paiten. You were into his huge arms, his awesome abs, and his ass was awesome. The way they hugged his jeans made you drool. Like literal drool. The worst part about Paiten was that he was the gassiest person you knew. A walking fart bomb is what some of your friends called him.

You and him would be watching the football game and he’d rip ass and say nothing. Every time, a weird sick part of you would get turned on. You could feel your heartbeat start to speed up and your pants would get just a little bit tighter.

The best worst days were when you were sleeping and you’d wake up to Paiten’s ass in your face. He’d rip a nasty wet fart and you’d startle awake with the smell of his rancid ass. He’d laugh and rush out your room as you pretend to be disgusted by him. But as soon as he was gone, you’d start stroking your dick fantasizing about him smothering your face in his giant globes.

When it was really bad, you’d sneak into his bedroom and steal his underwear from the dirty hamper in the corner of his room. You’d always try to grab a pair and then replace it with one that you have stolen before. This time you managed to steal his red Under Armor boxers and replace them with a blue Fruit of the Loom pair.

You sneak out of his room heading back to your room when you bump into Paiten. You stumble backwards and you look up at Paiten. “What were you doing in my room?” He asks you confused before looking at your hand and then back up to you.

“Uh, I thought I, uh, left something in there?” You stumble on your words as you try to hide the undies behind your back.

“Uh huh.” His eyes narrow on you. “So, why are you taking my boxers?”

“Um.” You drop the boxers and charge to your bedroom, Paiten grabs his boxers off the ground and follows you. You go to slam the door but Paiten gets his foot in and keeps the door open.

“Look I just want to talk, I’m not gonna hurt you.” Paiten says but you keep trying to push the door closed.

“No thank you.” You say straining on the door.

“Dude.” He easily just pushes the door open and you flop on the ground. “You a fag or something?” He holds his boxers as he stares down at you.

“The fuck man, I ain’t a fag.”

“You were stealing my dirty boxers.” Paiten sits down on your chest so you can’t get up. He begins to rub the crotch of the boxers on your face. “That turning you on?” You shake your head no but you can feel your sweats start to tent. “You want my dick?”

“No, dude, get off me.” You raise your hands to push him but he grabs them and holds them so you can’t move.

Pffft

A quick fart comes out of Paiten’s ass and you can feel the color on your face drain. “Wait, are you a fart fag?”

“Dude, no, stop.” Paiten gets up but he puts a foot on your chest. You take it as not to get up. You watch as he slowly unbuckles his belt and strips off his jeans. He’s wearing a pair of charcoal boxer briefs that look old. You gulp as you stare at his bulge move as he kicks off his sweats.

“So, you’re going to tell me you don’t want this?” Paiten turns and starts to wiggle his ass. “I mean come on buddy, everyone wants some of this.”

“I don’t.” You shake your head no but he eyes your boner. He decides to sit down on your face without warning. He moves around till he gets your nose up his crack. It’s obvious he went to the gym today.

“How ‘bout now.” You try your hardest to fight your hardon. “Come on take a whiff, you’ll like it.” You do your very best at not taking in a breath but you can’t help it. You inhale and without meaning to, a moan escapes your lips. “I knew it.” Paiten pushes his ass farther back so your head can’t lift off the ground and releases the nastiest fart you’ve ever heard. You take a loud inhale and moan from the scent. You can feel yourself humping the air. “You’re fucking getting off on this?”

PFFFFBRBRBRBR

“You’re telling me, that your faggot ass is getting off on me farting on your face.” You keep sniffing loudly without any reservation to what you’re doing. “Jesus christ you’re such a fucking faggot.” He begins to get up and out of pure instinct you grab his underwear and try to pull him back down. You’re unsuccessful and instead you rip his boxers. “Fucking faggot.” He ignores the fact that you ripped his boxers and just leaves the room.

Your boner is pressing hard against the fabric of your boxers as you keep sniffing the air trying to get what’s left of Paiten’s terrible gas.

After the hour long jack off session and sleeping for the night, you awake the next morning. You stare at the ceiling trying to decide if you should get up or hide in your room all day. You could live off the junk food and your laptop if you really need to. Instead you peek out your bedroom window to look at the driveway.

Paiten’s car is still in the driveway, so it seems that he’s still in the house. You give a sigh before sitting yourself back on your bed. Then you see them, the red Under Armour boxers you tried stealing the day before. You stare for about 30 seconds before getting up and grabbing them.

You bring them to your nose and you take a loud inhale. You can smell the lingering sweat and Paiten’s natural musk. Again, you start to feel yourself chub up but then you realize what you’re doing and pull them away from your face. You will your boner away as you leave your bedroom.

You make your way to Paiten’s room and knock on the door. You hear shuffling behind the door and the door swings wide open. Paiten is shirtless and is only wearing a camo pair of pajamas. Your eyes get lost at his chest and abs before he clears his throat.

“Need something?” He sounds smug.

“Oh-uh, yeah, um.” You begin. “I’m just returning these.” You shove the red boxers into his hands. “Okay bye.” You say awkwardly as you turn.

“Wait.” You stop but don’t make eye contact. “Does my ass look good in these PJs?” You turn and see him ass faced towards you. You can’t lie, his ass looks fantastic in those PJs and you’re about to voice that.

PFFFFFFFFFFBRBBRFFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTTTTT

He grunts as he lets out a loud seven second fart. “Fuuck me, that felt good.” He sighs in relief before wafting the air around his ass towards you.

“You’re disgusting.” You say, even though you’re totally enjoying the view and smell.

“That’s a compliment coming from you fart fag.” He laughs. He grabs your arm and pulls you into his bedroom. He loudly slams the door shut and flings you towards his bed. “Lay down, face up.” You blink twice before doing as he says. “Good fag.” He climbs above you and sits down on your chest.

PFFFFBBRFFFFFF

The fart vibrates on your chest. “I figured there’s a reason for us finding each other.” He drags his ass up your chest and gets closer to your face. “I mean, I am the gas bomb.”

PFFFFFFFFFFFFF

“And somehow, I get so lucky that my roomie is a fart fag.”

PFFFFBBRRRRRFFFTTTTTTT

The smells are getting worse the closer he’s getting to your nose. “I mean, I have to take advantage of that right?” He gives you a show by flexing his butt cheeks. “And I have this fantastic ass that has fags drooling.”

PBBBRBRBRFFFFFTTTTTT

You feel a breeze against your face and you're properly bricked up now. He readjusts himself and plops his fat cheeks down on your face. “I think this can be a mutually beneficial friendship.”

PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTT

The rotten smell invades your nostrils as you sniff the gas. You can’t help but push yourself as close as you can against his clothed pucker.

PFFFFFFFFFFFFTTT PFFFFFFFFFFFF

The sigh of relief he lets out makes your dick strain against your own PJs. “It’s hilarious you’re getting off on this, but I can’t lie. Farting on your face makes my dick hard.”

PFFFFFFFFFBBBRFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTTTT

“I’d never find a girl into this, but a dirty fag like you.”

PFBBRFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTTTT

“Fuuck.” He grunts as more of his sewage smelling farts fill your lungs. “I figure I could use you as much as I’d like.” You can’t argue his logic, nor do you really want to because you’re getting exactly what you want. Being trapped under Paiten’s ass is a dream come true.

PFFFFFBRBBRFFFFFFF PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFTTT PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFBBRRFFFFFTTTTTTT PFFFFFFFFFFTTTT

Your nose gets bombarded by fart after fart and you can feel precum leaking into your PJs. You’ve never been so hard before and his ass is totally destroying your face. You feel hot and sweaty and it smells so bad, but your dick keeps flexing.

“I’ll never understand how anyone likes this. It’s one thing to appreciate someone’s ass, but to actually sniff farts is disgusting.” His hole flexes a few times before letting out another ungodly fart on your nose. It’s silent but the solid torrent of air being blown up your nose lets you know that he’s still releasing the toxic air.

You cough hard as you finish inhaling that constant torrent of gas. “I don’t understand it either.” You manage to say. He responds by lifting up and then slamming his ass back down on your face.

“Don’t speak. All I should hear is you sniffing faggot.”

PFFFFFFBRBRFFFFFFFTTTTTTT

You do as he says and inhale the loud fart. It burns as it goes down and you feel lightheaded.

“This isn’t a friendship or a relationship. This is me using my ass to get off.”

PFFFFFFFFTT PFFFFFFFFFFFBBFFFT PFFFFFFFFFFFFTTTT

Fart after fart keeps hitting your nose and things begin to start spinning. You feel like you're about to cum the hardest you’ve ever had in your life.

PFFFFFFBRRFFFFFFFT

PFFFFFFFFFFFFFTTT

PFFFFFFBBRRFFFFFFTTTTTTTTT

“That’s it faggot. Get off on my godly gas bombs.” You realize that he’s stroking his cock above you.

PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTTT

“Oh god, that feels so good.” He sighs to himself as you're forced to keep inhaling. You’re so close now, but you can’t tell if you’re about to cum yourself or pass out.

PFFFFFFFFBBRFFFFFFFFTTTTT

PFFFFFFFBBFFFFFFFFFFFT

PFBBRFFFFFFFFFFFFT

PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFTT

You can’t help the cry that you let out as your cock starts shooting rope after rope of cum. It’s the most amazing orgasm and causes your whole body to start shaking.

“That’s fucking pathetic.” Paiten laughs above you. “My ass bombs just made you cum.”

PFFFFFFBBRRRRRFFFFFTTTT

“Well let’s just see how long you can last with just my ass for air.”

PFFFFFFFBBRRFFFFFFFFTTTTTTTTT

PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFTTT

Bomb after bomb hits your face and you can feel Paiten is getting close to cumming as well based on how his body is shaking.

PFFFFFFBBFFFFFFFFFFFFFTTT PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFTTTT

“God, I’m so fucking close.” He’s panting above you. “Feels so good destroying your face.”

PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFBBBFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTTT

He lets out a rocking 15 second fart and you hear him moaning above you as he starts to cum. The smell is starting to become unbearable now and you’re having issues thinking straight.

PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTTTTT

PFFFFFFFFFFBBRRFFFFFFFFFFFTTT

“There’s no way you’re still awake after that.” Paiten jokes as the loud toxic fumes keep hitting your face. All you can smell is eggs and rotten sewage. Everything is spinning around you now.

“Enough.” You cough out. You only get a laugh in response.

PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTT

PBBRBRBRBBRBRBRBRBRRRRRRRR

PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFT

You feel heavy and you almost feel like you're floating out of your body. You try to push him off you, but you’re too weak at this point. You begin to panic as you realize you can’t escape.

PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTTT

A loud 30 second fart hits you this time and takes you out. You hear laughing as you feel your body go limp.

When you awake again, you’re laying on the floor of the hallway. You have a massive headache and all you can smell is ass. Namely Paiten’s ass. You use the wall to get up and notice how sticky your PJs feel around your dick. You struggle to get to the bathroom but you make it and get in the shower.

You can’t stop yourself from blowing another load down the shower drain thinking about Paiten’s ass destroying your lungs again.

~~FIN

#Gay Face Farting #Underwear Stealing #Somewhat Willing Victim #Straight x Gay #Bullying #F slur used quite a bit #Face Farting #Eproctophilia

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