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pucksandpower · 1 year ago

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Puppy Love

Charles Leclerc x Reader

Summary: you’re definitely not jealous of the tiny sausage dog who seems to take up every second of your boyfriend’s attention … but it sure feels nice when Leo decides he’s a mama’s boy and Charles gets a taste of his own medicine

You stroll into the spacious living room, eyes narrowing as you spot Charles sitting on the couch, a tiny dachshund puppy curled up contentedly on his lap. “Charles … what is that?”

He looks up with a sheepish grin. “Surprise! Meet Leo, our new puppy.”

You shake your head slowly. “Our puppy? I don’t recall agreeing to get a dog.”

Charles scratches Leo’s velvety ears, eliciting a blissful tail thump. “I know, I know. But look how cute he is! I couldn’t resist.”

Crossing your arms, you try your best to seem stern despite the puppy’s heart-melting adorableness. “We haven’t even discussed this. A dog is a huge responsibility.”

“I’ve thought it through,” Charles insists. “Leo is the perfect breed for our lifestyle — small, low maintenance, and they make amazing companions.” He holds the drowsy pup up with a beseeching expression. “How can you say no to this face?”

You bite your lip, wavering. The puppy really is criminally cute with his soulful eyes and ridiculously long body. “Well … I suppose we could give it a trial run,” you concede. “But you’re taking care of him.”

Charles beams. “Deal! You’ll fall in love, I promise.” He sets Leo back on his lap, rubbing the puppy’s belly. “Who’s the best boy? You are!”

Watching them bond, a prickle of jealousy stirs in your chest. Is this what you signed up for — playing second fiddle to a canine?

Over the following days, Charles is utterly smitten, devoting every spare moment to Leo. He takes the pup everywhere, cooing over him incessantly and showering him with treats and toys. Meanwhile, you often find yourself … ignored.

“Charles? Are you listening?” You frown as he doesn’t respond, too busy dangling a chew rope just out of Leo’s reach in a teasing game.

You huff out a sigh. “I guess I’ll just make dinner for one then.”

Finally, he glances up with a distracted, “Hmm? Sorry, what was that?”

Throwing up your hands, you stalk into the kitchen, simmering with a childish sense of being replaced in your boyfriend’s affections. Stupid dog ...

A few nights later, you’re getting ready for bed when Charles appears in the doorway, Leo tucked under one arm like a furry purse. “Hey, I need to run out for a bit. Can you keep an eye on Leo?”

“What? Why?” You pause in the middle of removing your makeup.

Charles grimaces. “ I … may have waited until the last minute to get his puppy pads and food refilled.”

You groan. “Fine, I’ll watch him. But just this once!”

“You’re the best, thank you!” Charles drops a kiss on your cheek before setting Leo down with a stern, “Be good for your maman, okay?”

He dashes out, leaving you staring at the puppy sitting innocently in the middle of the bedroom floor. Leo blinks up at you, tiny tail wagging.

For a long stretch, you simply regard each other in silence. Then, hesitantly, you sink down to sit cross-legged. “Well? What am I supposed to do with you?”

Leo waddles over, sniffing at your knee before clambering into your lap with surprising determination for such a little guy. You tense, unsure what to do as he turns in a few circles and settles with a contented sigh, warm weight pressing against you.

Huh … he’s actually kind of cuddly.

Tentatively patting his silky fur, you admit, “I can see why Charles likes you so much.”

Leo’s only response is a sleepy snuffle, lashes fluttering shut. Despite yourself, you can’t resist smiling at how peaceful he looks, tiny paws twitching as he dreams. Maybe this dog thing won’t be so bad.

That notion lasts until Leo startles awake with a high-pitched yelp, legs scrambling as he leaps off your lap and takes off running. “Leo? Leo!” You give chase, wincing as his claws skitter across the hardwood in his panic.

Finally, you catch up to him quivering under the living room sofa. “Oh no, it’s okay!” You stretch out on the floor, clicking your tongue soothingly. “Come here, little guy. I’ve got you.”

Leo whimpers, but after a few tense minutes of coaxing, he creeps out just enough for you to scoop him up. You settle back against the couch with him bundled in your arms, murmuring reassurances as he trembles.

“Shhh, you’re safe … good boy ...” You press a tender kiss between his floppy ears, stroking him until his quaking fades to contented wriggles. As your apprehension melts away, a fierce protectiveness blossoms in your chest. This precious little soul is yours to care for now.

When Charles returns, he pauses in the hallway, tilting his head quizzically at the sight of you reclined on the sofa with Leo completely passed out on your stomach. “Having fun over there?”

You glance down at the slumbering puppy with a soft smile. “Actually … yeah. I think Leo and I are going to be just fine.”

A delighted grin spreads across Charles’s face. “I knew you two would hit it off!”

Over the ensuing weeks, you find yourself increasingly enamored with your four-legged child. Leo shadows your every step, bouncing around underfoot until you inevitably scoop him up to snuggle close. You start pushing all the throw pillows together to create a special nest for him on the couch. Charles teases that you’re getting a little carried away with spoiling the pup rotten.

“Oh, hush,” you retort without any real bite, nuzzling Leo’s plush cheek. “My baby deserves nothing but the best, isn’t that right?”

“Baby?” Charles arches an amused brow. “I think someone’s going overboard.”

You stick out your tongue, cuddling Leo closer with a playful glare. “Don’t listen to your papa. He’s just jealous of our bond.”

“Hey, I’m not the one treating him like a literal infant!” Charles laughs, reaching over to ruffle Leo’s ears. But the puppy twists away with a protesting whine, burying his face against your neck.

Charles pauses, brow furrowing in a brief flicker of hurt. You think nothing of it until the same thing happens again at dinner … and on your evening walk around the block … and at bedtime when Leo kicks up a fuss about sleeping in his own bed instead of yours.

“Leo, come on!” Charles groans in frustration when the puppy darts under the dresser instead of coming to him. “What’s with you lately?”

He shoots you an aggrieved look, ruffling a hand through his tousled waves. “Ever since you started carrying him everywhere, he won’t leave your side. You’ve turned my own dog against me!”

You shrug innocently, scratching behind Leo’s silky ear when he peeks out to flash you an adoring gaze. “I can’t help it if he knows who his favorite parent is.”

“Favorite parent?” Charles splutters. “That’s my dog you’re talking about!”

You gasp in mock offense, gathering Leo up to press a loud smacker against his fuzzy head. “Don’t listen to him, baby! Papa’s just grumpy because I’m better at cuddles.”

Charles narrows his eyes at the giggling puppy now practically swimming in your embrace. “Is that so? We’ll see about that.”

He swoops in to snatch Leo away, cradling the squirming pup against his chest. “Who’s the favorite, huh? I’m the one who picked you out, you little traitor.”

But Leo simply strains back towards you, pawing at Charles’ arm with distressed whimpers until you take him back. He immediately settles with a contented sigh, licking your chin gloatingly as Charles gapes.

“Oh, that is war ...” Your boyfriend mutters, stalking away with hunched shoulders.

You blink after him in confusion before shrugging it off in favor of cooing over the dachshund. “Did mean old Papa try to take you from Mama? Don’t worry, sweetie, I won’t let him.”

From that point on, a constant battle for Leo’s affections rages between you and Charles. He’ll try enticing the puppy with treats or toys, only for Leo to bypass them entirely in favor of your open arms. You can’t help but preen victoriously every time Leo cuddles into your embrace with a sigh of pure bliss.

“You’ve turned him against me!” Charles bemoans one evening as Leo dozes contentedly on your lap, stubbornly ignoring the tennis ball being waved enticingly in front of his nose. “What’s a guy got to do to get some puppy love around here?”

You smirk, idly stroking Leo’s velvety ears. “Guess he just prefers spending time with his one true love.”

“Yeah, yeah ...” Charles grumbles, but you catch the fond curl of his lips as he watches you fawning over the pup. He flops down beside you with a theatrical groan. “Unbelievable. Replaced in my own home by a hairy sausage.”

You gasp in mock outrage. “Don’t call my baby such things!” Scooping up Leo, you pepper his fuzzy face with smooches until he squirms happily. “Did you hear what Papa said about you? He’s just jealous!”

“I am not jealous!” Charles protests, even as his gaze tracks the gentle way you cradle the puppy. There’s a wistful edge to his voice when he murmurs, “Remember when you used to look at me like that?”

You pause, registering the plaintive note. Slowly, you shift Leo into the crook of one arm so you can reach out and cup Charles’ cheek with your free hand, thumb stroking over his cheekbone. “Aww, my poor baby,” you tease gently. “Don’t worry — there’s enough love to go around for both of you.”

Charles leans into your touch with a huff, darting eyes betraying how much he misses your undivided attention. “I’m starting to doubt that.”

“Well then, let me remind you ...” You lean in until your lips are a hair’s breadth from his, holding his gaze as you murmur, “I happen to have the world’s biggest, most annoyingly persistent crush on this one race car driver.”

A shiver ripples through Charles, his breath catching. Before he can respond, you close the scant distance in a searing kiss, lips molding hot and desperate as you pour every ounce of adoration into the embrace. Leo gives a disgruntled squeak at being squished between your bodies, quickly wriggling free to skitter off with an offended sniff.

You hardly notice, too busy mapping the contours of Charles’ mouth with hungry sweeps of your tongue, muffling his delicious groans by deepening the kiss. By the time you finally break apart, you’re both left panting harshly, gazes locked in a blissful haze.

“Still think I only have eyes for the dog?” You rasp, relishing the way Charles’ pupils are blown wide.

He swallows thickly. “You make a … convincing argument.”

“Mmm, I try.” You lean in to nip at his kiss-swollen lower lip with a sly grin. “But I’m more than happy to keep making my case ...”

Charles growls low in his throat, hauling you forward until you’re properly straddling his lap, bodies flush. “Don’t mind if I do.”

Breathless laughter spills from your lips as he surges up to capture them once more, hands roaming eagerly over your curves. In that heated moment, the puppy is forgotten as you pour all your focus into worshiping each other, affections firmly realigned.

Well … until a tiny bark sounds from nearby, followed by indignant grumbling and the patter of tiny paws. You reluctantly break the steamy kiss, rolling your eyes fondly as Leo hops up onto the couch to shove his way between the two of you.

“Easy there, troublemaker,” you chuckle, stroking the puppy’s silken fur as he clambers between you and Charles, yipping happily now that he has both his humans’ full attention. “See, baby? I told you there was enough love for all of us.”

Charles chuckles ruefully. “It’s a good thing he’s cute.”

You grin, leaning in to rest your forehead against his as Leo snuggles down with a contented sigh. In this perfect cocoon of warmth and adoration, you can’t imagine anything better.

And if the three of you stay snuggled up on that couch long into the evening, trading lingering kisses and delighted giggles as Leo’s little tail thumps happily … well, no one has to know.

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tiredandsapphic · 3 months ago

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꩜ PINING, MATTHEWS? PART I

pairing ꩜ lottie matthews x femreader

summary ꩜ lottie finds herself oddly infatuated over the local record shop girl, the feelings mutual

an ꩜ part two wc 1.5k, oh medicated lottie, plz come home, the kids miss u

Who knew Wiskoyak would be cool enough to have a local record store. Thank gods it did, because it was probably one of the best jobs someone could have. Though if it wasn’t for your parents’ connection to the owner, you’d probably not have the job. But here you are, working part time in the perfectly dusty store.

Lottie didn't even know there was a record store so close, not until Van brought it up one day after practice. She practically forced the poor girl to visit claiming that there's more to the music world than just Mazzy Star and The Cranberries.

With her ego half bruised and a newfound curiosity, she searches for this so-called store with Van's shitty directions. She eventually finds it, tucked behind a local cafe and mechanic shop.

When she enters, she's hit with the smell of incense and cigarettes, walls lined with posters. Faint record playing in the back, something she can't quite recognize, maybe Kate Bush? Her presence surrounded by the rows of cassettes and dusty vinyls, she almost doesn't notice you.

You're at the front counter, legs kicked up on a stool, chewing on a pen cap as you scribble in your notebook. You don't even look up.

Her so-called rich-girl aura doesn't exactly scream grunge record store— she suddenly feels very out of her element. But determined as Lottie is, with a pretty girl and a mission in front of her, she awkwardly approaches the counter.

Her footsteps draw your attention up, expecting some middle-aged guy looking for another Nirvana cassette. Your eyes widen slightly when your gaze travels up a figure in a letterman jacket, to deep brown eyes. Shit.

She smiles at you right away, her discomfort clearly on her face and now you feel the sudden need to make it all better. "Hey," is what you start with, mirroring a warm smile as you look up.

"Hi, I— uhh, to be honest, my friend kind of bullied me into coming here, and I have zero clue what I'm even looking for." She explains in a voice that makes you melt. She's sweet, but god she's fidgety, weirdly nervous. It's like watching a candied tragedy.

Laughing softly, you throw down your notebook, leaning forward on the counter to give her your undivided attention. Lottie's face is now feeling more warm.

"Oh yikes, I see," you raise your brows in a soft teasing way, "well I can help with that. What do you like?" And the question is so genuine, it's like you actually want to know, not just because it's your job.

She fumbles for a moment, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth, the smallest crease in her brow. It's adorable.

"I think Mazzy Star and Fiona Apple— but I also really like The Cranberries before a game." The tall girl admits and you nod along, slightly smitten by her taste. And a wave of realization runs over you.

"A game? Oh wait shit, you play for the Yellowjackets." You exclaim and it takes her back a bit, then an embarrassed smile grows on her face. "I'm guessing that the friend that bullied you into coming here is Van?"

Lottie laughs and nods, "Mhm, that's her. She speaks highly of this place— and you, apparently you're ‘the girl that knows her shit’. Honestly I didn't know it existed." She admits, her eyes on you the whole time. You just chuckle.

"Yeah, a lot of people say that. It's my little heaven, I really only got the job because I know the owner, and of course, know my shit." You admit and stand up, smoothing down your clothes as if you were trying to look presentable. "Also I can totally work off your taste, it's good." You smile and she flushes, you can't help but flush as well.

"I'll feel less like a lost cause, thanks." Her footsteps trail behind you as you walk towards one of the aisles. "I'm Lottie by the way." She adds, if not a little awkwardly.

You give her a smile and tell her your name, which makes the girl beam just a little more. Lottie eyes you as you flip through some shelves, admiring the determined look on your face.

You start to pull out some albums, making small comments, even little music facts. Lottie's knees suddenly feel so weak.

You stop yourself mid word vomit, painted nails gripping a The Cure vinyl. "Oh my god, I've been rambling for the past 10 minutes on music, I'm sorry, you must think I'm a dweeb." You laugh, your cheeks feeling hot.

"No—" she adds, maybe a touch too quick, "not at all," she laughs softly, "it's cute, please, I don't think I've learnt this much about music before than now." She says as if she wasn't looking at you instead of the vinyls the whole time.

You look at her as if she just proposed— your heart certainly feels like she did.

"Okay, good, because I haven't even shown you half of it yet." You grin and she just nods, more than happy to watch your fingertips skim the vinyl spines as you talk.

You probably talk for way too long, but the lack of other customers and her personality becoming less nervous just makes something click. She makes small jokes that have you laughing, and your job just becomes much more worth it.

At one point she skims over, standing in front of a small section that's labelled 'staff picks'.

"Careful. That section's dangerous. You might leave with a personality." You say casually with a teasing look.

She just blinks at you then laughs, and you walk over. You grab a vinyl off the wall. "Actually, here, I think you'll really like this."

And you hold out an Alanis Morissette album. "If you don't like it, full refund." You say half jokingly, but you're too confident in your music match making skills. "Perfect before a game too."

Lottie's deep gaze flickers from you to the album for a few moments before she takes it, her fingers brushing yours. Your internal record player skips.

"I'll take your word for it." She nods, clutching the album like it's holy.

It's not even then that Lottie goes to cash out, she still trails by as you show her more, even sharing your own favourite artists, which she locks in her mental diary.

You eventually walk over to the counter to ring her up, almost saddened to do so. You wanted her to stay longer, so did she. Though her short trip evolved into something much longer.

Lottie keeps glancing at you during checkout. She's got that flustered soft fidgeting, biting her lip, her fingers twitching by her wallet, clearly wanting to say something but chickening out.

So, while she's distracted digging through her bag, you build up the courage to make a move— sorta. You grab a post-it note, scribbling your number and writing 'Call me if you want more dangerously good taste. Or a date. Whichever.' and tuck it into the sleeve of the album.

You look back up and slide her the album, taking her money, as if you hadn't just did the boldest thing you've ever had the courage to do.

"Thanks, for all this." She says as she grabs the vinyl off the counter.

You just nod, "any time, I know this was your first time here, and I really hope it's not your last."

Lottie smiles, her internal circuit malfunctioning. "I'll have to make sure you're on shift then, next time." She says softly before whispering a soft goodbye.

Your heart thumps as you watch her leave, blinking like you've just had the rug pulled from underneath you. You immediately bend over the desk like you've been shot in the chest, your hands on your face. You don't know whether to throw up or celebrate.

Later that night, after a long shift haunted by thoughts of the tall athlete, you lie on your bed, sprawled out like a coming-of-age movie.

Then your landline rings, coming from your cluttered desk beside your bed.

Your heart stops, it could be anyone, but your chest knows.

"Hello?" You answer after the second ring, finger fidgeting with the twisted wire.

"Hey, it's— uh. Lottie. From earlier." Her voice is a little shakier on the line.

"Oh. Oh, hi." Suddenly the wire of your landline is very intriguing, acting as if you weren't the one who asked for this.

"So. I found something in my record sleeve." She says, open ended.

"Oh. Yeah. That." Total deer in headlights. "Was that okay?"

She laughs at your tone softly, "More than okay. I was wondering... if maybe I could take you up on the offer."

"Which part?" You're nearly breathless.

She pauses, "Well, preferably both, but the mostly second part."

"Good, I was mostly hoping for that part." And suddenly your world flipped, for the better.

You clutch your pillow tighter, the idea of a date with her no longer just a dream, but now a promise.

#yellowjackets #lottie mathews x reader #lottie yellowjackets #wlw #lesbian #lottie matthews x you #lottie matthews x fem!reader #lottie matthews #i love her #yellowjackets x reader #yellowjackets x you #୨ৎ born to write

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itzpookiepooh · 2 months ago

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CHEATER!

You lose in kitty cards :(

Let me tell you something if you know Zayne then you know he’s taking it home in this game. He treats it like a surgery, he’s precise! You can’t tell what he’s thinking or what cards he has because he doesn’t show it on his face. Not a single indicator to show he’s winning or losing. You have been playing this game for so long you think you might die with these cards clutched in your hands.

“Do you need a break?” He asks raising his eyebrows. You wanted to mock him so bad. You could do this, you’re an adult. Even though he’s won the past 11 rounds who’s to say you won’t win the 12th?

“No. Play the game.” You tell him eyeing him intensely. He hums before slapping a magic paw down reducing your kitty with the 12 points to go down to 1. You nearly fell apart.

“Your turn.” He tells you but you didn’t want to play anymore. You wanted to log out so bad.

“Do you think this is spades?” You genuinely ask him making him almost burst into laughter.

“I’m just trying to fairly play the game.” He clears his throat. Your eyes were wide, mouth agape, and head tilted to the side.

“This is playing fair?!” You press your fingertips on the table. Zayne looks away from you trying not to laugh.

Sylus has been laughing at you this whole round. He has taken away all number cards 3 times and he’s still ahead! How does he have 30 points and no cards! You slump in your seat in defeat.

“Giving up?” He taunts you, folding your arms. You glare at him—fire in your eyes. Determination fuels you as you slam down a brown 6.

“Your. Turn.” You grit with your teeth. He smirks putting down a bye-bye card taking away your highest point. You slam your head on the table.

“Giving up?” His sultry voice taunting you. You groan, “Giving up.” He chuckles shaking his head.

Rafayel has been cheating and you were going to catch him. He had a smug look on his face as he placed down a meowster. You looked through your cards when out the corner of your eye you see him taking cards. You smack his hand to which he flinches back.

“I knew you were cheating!” You shouted as he rubs his hand.

“Is it cheating if I’m adding to my deck?” He argues back with a glare. You nod dramatically as Rafayel sighs.

“Not your turn fish stick.” You glare putting down a green 4. He huffs crossing his arms.

“Only humans worry about something small like this.” He mumbles. He still won because you caught the cheating too late.

Xavier was one of the best players of kitty cards. He played regularly not slamming down cards, yelling, or cheating but somehow he always won. You were on the verge of puking. How was he doing that?

“Xavier…have mercy.” You drag out as you lay your head down. He chuckles waiting for you to put your card down.

“We can stop if you’d like. I only play because you like the game.” He explained shrugging his shoulders. You wipe your hand down your face.

You gave up because he just kept winning. It was the 10th round! Have mercy.

Caleb let you win a few times because he loves you. Love doesn’t pay the bills though so he starts hitting you with all kinds of cards. You don’t know how this happened. Luckily for you he kinda sucks at this game.

“Is that all you got pipsqueak?” He was at 28 points his arms crossed while you were at 21 points.

“Caleb have I ever told you that I hate you?” You ask him clasping your fingers together. His eyes widen at you. “No?!”

“I should.” You tell him putting down a 4 while he puts a six down. You were going to flip the damn table.

“I win again.” He teases making you glare at him.

This been in the vault because Zayne be kicking my ass in this game ngl 😔

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pedge-page · 10 months ago

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Whatever You Say

Stepdad!Joel Miller x F!Reader

Notes: this was supposed to be a 3 sentence "imagine this!" But i just kept... going.

Summary: Joel's determined to be the father you need and the husband your mom deserves. That all comes crashing down when he accidentally misunderstands your intentions.

Warnings: unprotected sex, stepdad!Joel, switch!Joel, pathetic step dad, voyeurism, panting sniffing and stealing, f and m masturbation, manipulation/black mail, dub con, Daddy kink, riding, sub!joel, rimming, humiliation kink, cum play, cheating

18+ ONLY

- - - -

Genuinely nice, kind, wanting to do the right thing Step!Dad Joel trying to be a good man to your mom and fit in with you. Despite your aversion to him, he knows you're an adult now and you probably aren't on board with the whole "new dad" thing so late in the game. Still, he gives you your space but also actively inserts himself into your family, trying to get your stubborn self to open up to him and accept him.

His assumptions are wrong, when he crosses passed your cracked bedroom door one night and hears you moaning "Daddy!" While rubbing your clit. He gasps and covers his mouth, unable to draw away from the sight of your slick pussy glistening in the moon light from the window.

He should turn away right now, burn the vision and memory from his brain, but your sweet soft whimper of "Daddy please..." followed by a high pitched groan, and the schlickslick sounds of your finger working through your folds has him planted in place, mesmerized.

"Daddy's here," he hums under his breath barely over a whisper, not removing his tranfixed gaze from your naked wreathing body in bed as he fishes out his leaking cock and begins to pump it with his fist. He would have genuinely never guessed, never picked up on how needy you had been all this time for him. Too busy denying yourself and pushing him away when you really needed him shoving his cock right into your aching little cunt.

He's practically salivating. Each time you let out a "Daddy m'gonna cum, wanna cum on your cock!" He can feel his length pulse wildly in his palm.

"Cum for Daddy!" he rasps, jaw dropping in a silent please as he bursts over the lower panel of your door. At the same time you arch your back, tits piercing the air while your orgasm tears through you.

He steadies his breathing as low as possible, still not sure if he's dreaming. His vision regains focus on you just as you bring your sticky fingers to your lips and suck them clean of your juices with a satisfied hum.

Joel chokes, accidentally stumbling against the door.

You sit up only to hear a frantic rush of footsteps disappearing down the hall and a door slamming at the end.

After that, Joel avoids you like the plague but stalks you from a distance. He's too nervous to act on both your desires. He had set out on this family to be a good husband, a good father! Your dad was shit so of course you'd been neglected that vital role in your life.

He just can't help but get hard every time he thinks about you.

Whenever you go out with friends for the night, he sneaks into your room and slips into your bed. The aroma of your shampoo and body wash, sweat and skin rubbing along these same sheets fills his senses. Joel palms over his bulge, buring his nose into your pillow with a pathetic sigh. It smelled like sex, like you'd been rubbing your slick pussy all over your bed, marking it, making it evident of your possession like a nest.

He finds a pair of used panties sitting on the floor beside the bed, pressing the damp crotch of it firmly into his nose. He already has a thick hand wrapped around his girth as he tongues and sniffs your used undies, rolling his hips into his hand. God, he wants you. And he knows you need him. Should he be the big man, step up as any father would and take care of your needs? Is that what you were waiting for? Waiting all this time for Daddy to ruin your sweet tight hot little cunt and fill you to the brim with his seed--

Hes about to cum when your door swings open. Yhe blood from his body drains into his cock as you stand, catching him red handed, literally, with your crimson panties wrapped around his fist and bare dick in your bed jerking off to the thought of you.

"What the FUCK, joel??" You screech, slamming your door closed behind you, trapping him in here with his confessions laid out for you to direct.

"I c-c-I uh--"

Vowels tumble from his mouth but nothing coherent comes out. He should put his cock away, but he just catches the way your eyes glance down every half second, ans it only makes him swell with righteousness even more.

He breathes in, smirking, knowing he has the upper hand here. "Heard ya crying for your Daddy few nights back. Wanted to give ya what you--"

"Just because I have a "daddy" kink doesn't mean i was crying for you, you perverted fuck!" You shout.

Joel's shit eating grin disappears into horror. "You--you didnt--"

He wants to crawl into the wall, but even worse than the situation he's caged himself in, you start walking closer. "IS that what you thought? That i was rubbing my pussy to the thought of you??" You cackle. "That's fucking disgusting. I call my BOYFRIEND 'daddy.' Only a sick, perverted old fuck like you would think I'd be wanting my step dad of all people!"

Daggers piece his insides at each word. You stalk towards him even more, ans he's practically crawling up the bedframe in fear and embarrassment. It doesn't help that his cock is fucking leaking all over your pillow, bobbing painfully with the reddened tip thrombin another glob of precum from his hole.

"I-"

"Is that what you are, Joel? A perverted, sick fuck who thinks about fucking his step daughter?"

"Please--please i--I'm so sorry -- I didnt... I misunderstood..."

"Misunderstood?" You've finally cornered him, knee pressed to the matress and leaning over so he has no where to look but you. "Did you plan to use that as your excuse when I tell my mom I found you jerking off in my bed with my underwear wrapped around your face?"

"Please--please don't tell her..." he could die. Die right now that he's one centimeter from fucking this whole family to hell, the family he had wanted to make right for so long-andwhyishisdickstillsohard??

"I'll do anything," he whimpers. "I'll make it up to you."

He hopes you're gonna bleed his wallet dry, or get him to do your dishes, or buy you a apartment, but instead, your eyes drop down to his spread legs, biting your lower lip with a sickening hum.

You don't say anything as you shove him, his back flat bouncing onto the bed. You straddle his waist, his face bound in surprise. Joel stutters a whine but snaps his throat shut as his cock brushes along your ass, your very naked, bare ass underneath that sorry excuse for a skirt.

"I wanna see just how desperate you are to get inside your stepdaughter," you hiss, your hand snaking behind the two of you and gripping his length.

His face is pale, shocked and aroused and confused all at once, but he doesn't protest at all when you rub his tip through your soaking folds. He tilts his chin down to watch the scene between your legs unfold, unsure what kind of punishment miracle this must be.

"Daddy," you whine.

His head snaps back to your face like a dog ready for a treat.

You laugh. "That's what you wanted to hear, wasn't it? Me crying for my daddy when he's about to push his big--fat--cock inside my little pussy?"

You both let out a moan, wide eyed and open mouthed as you sink fully onto his length.

"Ohhh, dadddyyyy," you tease, experimentally rolling your hips. Joel's hand slap to your hips, instinctually holding you up as you begin to ride him. Whether you were making fun of him or actually enjoying yourself, he didnt care. All he cared about was the warm, wet suction of your heat sucking him back in each time you grinned your hips down on him.

"Do you like this, Daddy?" You moan, looking down on him.

He grits his teeth, beautiful brown eyes making contact and nodding. He has no words.

You giggle. "Me too, Daddy. Your cock is so big, stretches me so fucking good. Never had cock like this," you gasp, one hand planted on his collar as you set off a quicker pace, humping him with delicious rhythm.

He has already edged himself before you had come in. You could tell he was close, his thrusts meeting your every roll of your hips.

"Do you wanna cum? You wanna cum inside me Daddy?"

He nods fervently.

"Tell me."

"I wanna cum--wanna cum inside, inside your sweet pussy baby fuck, please let me, let me cum, let daddy cum inside you!"

"You can cum inside--but only if you do everything I tell you." You expertly swivel your hips so that his impending orgasm is subsided, making him growl. He has no other option but to focus on your words as if it were law. "If I want you to eat my pussy at the dinner table, you do it. If I tell you to finger me when Mom is talking, you do it. And if I tell you I want you to myself all night...?"

"Im here," he moans obediently. His blunt nails dig into your belly as he bucks harder into you, agreeing to everything you say just so he can burst.

You smile. "Cum inside me Daddy!"

He obeys, shouting as his hips still high in the air and thick ropes of his spent cover your walls. You laugh at him, laugh and moan and laugh ans gasp and laugh, and he can't get enough of it. He's never cum so hard in his fucking life, filling you to the brim until it's leaking down his shaft in a creamy mix of yours and his fluids.

Of course, you knew he wanted you. You did think about him every night since he shook your head eith "Hi, Im Joel," like the upstanding citizen he was. You knew he was a perverted mess. And ever since you found that sticky surprise plastered on your door, it only confirmed it. Joel Miller was a needy man, and you were a needy woman. He was meant to be here, and you weren't about to fight destiny.

Collapsing against his sweaty chest, your lips connect with his in a messy link of wet kisses and breathless moans as Joel comes down from his high. You can see it in his hazy eyes: He'd do anything for you right now. Jump off a cliff, eat poison, stab your mom--

"And if I tell you to get on your knees and spread your ass...?" You hum casually into his mouth before sucking his tongue.

He stops, eyes fluttering open slightly with crinkles in his forehead. You know he heard you. You raise your brow, waiting for his move.

Joel glances down at your plump, wet and swollen lips once more before rolling over and planting his knees into the bed, bending forward so his face hovered over the pillows.

Your legs clench together in excitement as you position yourself behind him. He hesitates for a moment before bringing his fingers around his sides and spreading his cheeks before you, his hole exposed to your devilish gaze.

He can't see behind him, but the sound of your squelching pussy as you finger yourself to his ass makes him whimpers into the pillow.

You pull a glob of Joels and yours cum from deep inside and spread it along his asshole. He flinches, not being used to -- well, fuck, ANYONE touching him there in his whole life. He's touched his hole before, out of curiousty more than anything, but thats the extend Joel Miller has ever gone.

Not that you are paying any mind to his apprehensions, as your thumb messily circles the tight edges of his entrance like a finger painting.

It's warm and sticky as you smear his cum over the rim, dribbling in excess down his crack to his balls and hanging cock. He can feel pulses of excitement and anxiety twitching, undoubtedly for you to make fun of him more.

What the hell would a pretty girl like you want with his old hairy aashole?

"You have such a pretty hole, Daddy," you hum against his cheek, nipping it softly with your teeth. He feels your lips glide over the swell before the warm heat of your breath tickles his opening, and your lips settle with a gentle, innocent kiss. He let's out a low sigh, closing his eyes while you make out with his ass.

His step daughter is making out with his ass hole right now, and he's getting hard as a rock.

Your tongue prods his rim, making him stutter, pushing back slightly against you again. You giggle, obliging and wiggling the tip around his puckered entrance enclosing your lips again to suck and kiss before repeating. One of your hands starts tugging on his cock, squeezing along the base before yanking up and down like you're trying to milk him.

Joel's head fully sinks into the pillow, his tongue lolling out as he let's out happy groans. His eyes roll back every time you straighten your tongue a little harder. Trying to work its way inside, wiggling and kissing him softly.

Joel thinks to hell with upstanding dad, upstanding husband routine he had envisioned when he first laid eyes on you and your mom. He can feel his irises morphing into literal hearts as you continue to lap at at his ass, never having fallen in love and fallen to his knees for a woman so quickly in his goddamb life.

- - - -

Taglist:

@harriedandharassed @lola8888673 @its-nebuleuse @zliteraturehoe @merz-8 @joeldjarin @pascalscoffin @pedroshotwifey @ghostslillady @innerpersonunknown @missladym1981 @mrsoharaxx @survivingandenduring @milla-frenchy @cockykookiee @fairytale07 @daddy-din @pedropascalsbbg @spookyxsam @somehopeatlast @millercontracting @pedrostories @mishala005 @theoraekenslover @animez96 @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @puduvallee @cassiecasluciluce @loohoop @himboelover @callsignwidow @wintersquirrel @fluffygoffpanda @picketniffler @bbyanarchist

#joel miller fan fiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal smut #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #the last of us fanfiction #last of us smut #tlou fluff #tlou smut #tlou fanfiction #tlou fic #the last of us smut #last of us fic #the last of us fic #sub!joel #stepdad!joel

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linedbycaro · 1 month ago

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𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐑𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 - 𝐃𝐨𝐣𝐚 𝐂𝐚𝐭 (𝚸𝐚𝐳𝐳𝐢) 𝐩𝐭. 𝟐

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭, 𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭, 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟐.𝟔k

𝐚/𝐧: 𝐑𝐞𝐩𝐞𝐚𝐭 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐞: 𝐢𝐭 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐬𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫. 𝐓𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐦𝐞. 𝐀𝐥𝐬𝐨 𝐈 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐞 𝐈'𝐦 𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 '𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐑𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭' 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐬𝐞𝐜.

Paige bolts out of the weight room. Sprints.

She doesn't stop. Not even when she crashes into Geno in the hallway— hard enough to where he stumbles back, too bewildered to make a smart remark, and just asks, "Paige..? Are you okay?"

The coach's question barely registers. She doesn't so much as look back, just barrels down the corridor, shoulder-checking doors open like they're in her way.

Paige doesn't stop when she bursts outside; she just continues to sprint down the sidewalk, tumbling past a group of gaping students.

She laps the block twice, ears ringing, blood pounding, trying to shake off her pent-up energy. It only makes it worse.

With each stride, another vision of Azzi flashes through her head.

Azzi's arms, her chest, her sweat-slicked skin, glowy and taut under the lights. The slope of her back, the hitch of her breath. Each provocation intentional.

Salacious. That's what she was. In the worst, most intoxicating way.

Just when Paige had tried to act normal. Tried to be chill during practice, tried to show Azzi she wasn't completely unraveling inside since their conversation— since Azzi had looked at her with a different kind of intensity and taunted her with words Paige wanted so badly to believe.

And then Azzi took that composure and played with it. Like she wanted Paige to unravel, like it was all a big game and she wanted to tempt Paige until she gave it, and wanted to see how much she could take before she broke.

And Paige had fallen for it like an idiot. Paige had let her. Had let herself be undone, watched Azzi play her like a game, and stayed right there.

She'd tripped over her own damn feet, trying to step away. Knocked over the bin like a klutz, just a sweaty, breathless mess under Azzi's gaze. Because the truth was, she couldn't control it, not when it came to Azzi.

The heat under her skin is unbearable — fire flooding through her veins, frying her nerves, her breakfast threatening to claw its way up her throat, the sheer want, the ache between her legs, her pure need for some kind of physical release.

She needs to escape. Get out of Azzi's orbit. Leave campus and go for a drive or something. Anywhere but here.

She can't think. Can't breathe.

Okay.

Step one: keys. Step two: car. Step three: drive.

She pats her pockets.

Pause.

Her keys.

Oh crap.

She left all her stuff in the weight room.

Defeated, Paige drags herself back into the facility.

But when she gets back to those damn weight room doors, she can't bring herself to open them. Just stands there dumbly with her forehead pressed against the frame.

And nope. Absolutely not. Paige cannot— physically cannot— bring herself to open that door.

You know what? She'll just wait for Azzi to finish her workout. A dip in the recovery room jacuzzi isn't the worst idea. Might help calm her even.

Wrong.

Paige knows it's a bad idea the minute she slips into the warm water.

She sinks under, fully submerging, letting the hot water envelop her, trying to let it trick her nervous system into stillness— allowing the water's heat to cancel out the heat burning inside her.

She holds her breath.

Count the beats.

Wills her heart to slow.

Until the pressure inside her lungs becomes too much.

Until her body forces her to the surface.

Immediately, her head starts spinning again. Her heart slams against her ribs. Faster than before. Because the moment she resurfaces, she doesn't see it this time; she feels it.

Paige clenches her jaw, determined to control herself in some way.

She presses her back against the tub wall, hands covering her face, letting the jet stream pound into her spine. It's aggressive, so strong it almost tickles, but it numbs the ache in her back, loosens the tension in her shoulders. She lets it carry her, blur the edges of her thoughts, which slip—traitorously—right back to Azzi.

The way Azzi had stalked over, voice purring—feline in that dangerous, commanding way.

"You seem tense."

Understatement of the century. She'd said it so sweetly, like a goddamn seduction.

Paige had been shaking—still is, her belly wound so tight it feels cruel. She needs to- she needs-

No.

She refuses to touch herself. Not for Azzi. Refuses to get herself off to thoughts of her best friend like some horny, undisciplined loser.

Refuses to let her hand slip below the waistband of her shorts and feel the wetness she already knows is there, sliding between her legs.

But…. Azzi had meant it, no? Azzi had wanted her to feel that way, wanted her to become undone.

And Paige desperately needs to do something— anything for a physical release. It's the only way her body will calm down. The only way she'll be able to think straight. She just needs a little, a little friction, and—

Paige is turning around before her brain can really comprehend what she's doing.

She braces herself against the tub wall and lets the hot jet hit between her legs, the pressure relieving some of the tension in her core.

She won't touch herself, but this—

oh.

She groans, surrendering herself, angling her cunt a little more directly onto the stream.

And naturally, she succumbs to visions of Azzi.

Azzi stripping her shirt off, slow and deliberate, that infuriating smirk tugging at her lips.

Azzi adjusting her sports bra—the slip of underboob, the full shape of her breast there, gleaming in the light.

She grinds against the current, riding it, letting the water pound up against her clit.

Paige pictures the way Azzi's abs had clenched with each pornographic thrust of her hips, shorts rolled low below her hip bones, flaunting her v-line with every roll. Intentional.

Paige grits her teeth, forearms bent over the wall, imagining she is grinding on that vision of Azzi, not the jet.

Imagining how it would feel to rub their cunts together, Azzi's clit putting pressure on her own— the way it would look to see Azzi's torso roll into her, how the flex of her abs would feel under Paige.

She moves her hips over the jet faster now, letting the water thrum up against her opening. Filling her, bringing her closer.

Paige pictures the way Azzi's head had tipped back, mouth open, neck arched—the perfect picture of ecstasy. Pictures her making those same breathy moans, eyes rolled back into her head, but this time under Paige, coming undone together.

Paige is panting now, eyes closed, face tight in concentration, her hips buck furiously, jagging her cunt closer to the jet opening, letting its current rip onto her clit.

She remembers Azzi's touch, the torturous drag of her hand up her arm, fingers digging just enough to make her knees go soft. Her palm gliding over Paige's abs—pausing, grazing—the slow, calculated massage of her hands.

Firm thumbs kneading into her shoulders like Azzi owned her body and knew it. Like she was unraveling Paige one press at a time. Every nerve lit up. Every inch of restraint pulled tight, straining—

Paige comes hard. Shaking, panting, overstimulated as the jet pulses beneath her. A wave of relief crashes over her.

And then the guilt sets in.

Because as she slumps away from the tub's edge, sinking deeper into the water, her chest aches.

She feels gross.

Not because she wanted Azzi—she's made peace with that, at least in theory—but because she let her body take over. Because she gave in. She couldn't control it.

And worse—because it wasn't even real. Just a ghost of Azzi's voice, a memory of her hands. The aftermath of Azzi playing her seductive games.

Paige so badly wants to be okay with just being Azzi's teammate. Her best friend. She wants to be normal about it. Controlled. Distant.

But this new version of Azzi—this bold, impossible-to-read version—is unraveling her.

Paige doesn't know how to act around her, how to stop it. Doesn't know what's a joke and what's not.

Paige isn't sure what game they're playing anymore. She isn't sure what is real and what is lust. What's genuine feeling, and what's just the thrill of the chase. Maybe Azzi wants her—physically— she'd implied that clear enough in the gym. But Azzi doesn't seem to know what she wants beyond that. Paige is just a side effect, a glitch, not in the way Paige wants her back.

And that difference is what breaks her.

She sighs, dragging herself out of the tub, and unceremoniously hops into the cold tub.

It's icy, and it shocks her—which is probably the tub she should've gotten into in the first place. It's the first time she's gotten into the ice bath without complaint, but she forces herself to be miserable for a moment. To endure it.

Then she towels off, changes in the locker room, and finally heads to her doom—praying that if God has any last shred of mercy on her (unlikely, after she'd just orgasmed in a sports facility to the thought of her teammate), Azzi isn't still in there.

Procrastination, as it turns out, isn't an effective tactic.

Because Azzi is still in there when she pushes the door open. Like she noticed Paige left her stuff and decided to wait. Decided to watch her crawl back in.

"Back so soon?" Azzi glances over from her spot on the bench.

But this time, Paige doesn't give her a reaction. Doesn't let herself look at Azzi. She just feels numb. And guilty.

With a blank, sidelong glance in her friend's direction, she grabs her things, jaw clenched.

And then she turns and lets the door shut behind her for the second time that day.

____

Well, now Azzi's really confused.

Because how the hell had Paige left the weight room flustered, on the verge of combusting—only to come back completely stoic?

Like none of it had touched her.

Did Azzi not matter that much? Had she done something wrong?

All she'd wanted was to show Paige she meant it. To be bold. To prove it. But maybe Paige really did just want to be friends. Maybe that wasn't flustered—maybe it was uncomfortable.

God. Azzi is mortified.

She has to fix this. Fast. Good thing they have a Uconn athletics event tonight—mini golf for student-athletes and coaches.

_____

Azzi knocks on Paige's door sharp three times and then walks in like she always does.

Paige, who is sitting on her bed in jeans and a t-shirt, is toweling her damp hair, still wet from the shower.

Paige looks up and freezes. Blue eyes wide when she sees who it is.

"Hey," Azzi asks softly, all hints of boldness gone from her voice. "Are you still— are we still driving together to the mini golf thing?"

Paige swallows. "Sure, yeah." She tries to keep her voice as light and normal as possible.

An awkward silence settles between them. Azzi's hands are fidgeting. She shifts her weight from one foot to another like she doesn't know what to do with herself. Hovers near the wall like she's never been in Paige's room before, like she doesn't know where Paige folds every sock and stores all her snacks.

Paige watches her fidget, trying to figure out why she's here. Trying to decode her sudden shift in demeanor, guess what her next move will be.

But maybe, like all of Azzi's impulses, her gym stunt was just one of her meaningless confessions—another offhand moment she'd inevitably forget.

Another thing we're pretending didn't happen, Paige thinks. Okay, got it. She clears her throat.

"I, um. I was just going to finish getting ready, but I'll be ready in ten."

"Yeah, sure." Azzi's voice sounds distant, but she nods at Paige like she understands and then looks down at her phone, pretending to scroll like this was all normal. Say it, just say it, just say it, she wills herself.

"Cool," is all Paige replies, sliding off the bed and grabbing her makeup bag from the desk.

Azzi opens her mouth to say something. Nothing comes out. This silence is killing her.

"Actually, uh, I wanted to talk to you." Azzi's voice is tight, and it comes out way higher than she intended.

Paige's head snaps away from her mirror, lash curler in hand, heart hammering. Oh.

Azzi doesn't let herself pause.

"I just… I feel like I pushed too far. In the gym. And I don't know if I made you uncomfortable or—if I crossed a line, I'm sorry."

She doesn't look at Paige when she says it. Just stares somewhere near the corner of the room, like if she locks eyes, she'll fall apart. Her face is burning with embarrassment.

Paige blinks. She wasn't expecting that.

"Oh," Paige says, and then, after a beat, "No—it's fine. I mean, I'm glad you said something."

Azzi nods. It's the kind of nod people do when they're trying not to cry.

They both go quiet again.

Paige turns back to the mirror. Tries to curl her lashes. Misses. Her hand's shaking.

"It's just," Azzi continues, forcing the words out, "I don't want to mess up what we have."

Right. So it didn't mean anything.

Paige presses her lips together. Of course, it was just a game. But at least she's being honest. At least she's fucking saying something—acknowledging it.

"Right," Paige says instead. "Totally."

More silence.

"So… we're good?" Azzi asks quietly. "Friends?"

Paige nods, smiling as best she can. "Yeah. The best."

It's the closest she's ever come to lying to Azzi. It carves something hollow in her chest.

Azzi gives her a relieved grin, but it doesn't quite reach her eyes. "Good."

____

The drive over is quiet. Paige grips the steering wheel, knuckles going white, left leg bouncing slightly. Her mind is moving a mile a minute, looping through everything she didn't say.

Azzi stares out the window, chewing at her cheek. She hasn't said a word since they left the dorm.

Music plays low from the car speakers, just background noise filling the silence—until it's not.

Bars from "Are We Still Friends?" by Tyler, The Creator fill the silence, and Paige doesn't notice.

But Azzi does.

She's listening to every word.

Are we still friends?

Can we be friends?

I got to know…

I can't stop you, I can't rock too.

I've been back there, and I cannot die, too.

It's like a cosmic joke. Like the universe queued it on purpose.

Azzi doesn't change it—Paige is always on aux, and that rule feels sacred. Instead, she just stares at her. Quiet. Waiting for her to realize.

Paige doesn't feel it at first. But then she does. That look.

She glances over.

Azzi's eyes are already on her.

Paige furrows her brows in confusion, and then she hears the lyrics for the first time. Her face goes hot.

She shifts in her seat, suddenly too warm, and fiddles with the air vents like she can redirect the tension out the window.

"Oh—sorry," she mumbles, fumbling for the screen, and skips the song like it burned her.

Azzi turns back toward the window. But the lyrics hang—louder than before.

She doesn't say anything. She doesn't have to.

They're both thinking the same thing.

Can they still be friends? Is their friendship ruined forever? Will they ever be normal again?

part 3

#pazzi fics #paige bueckers #azzi fudd #paige x azzi #pazzi #uconn wbb #azzi35 #azzi x paige #pazzi smut #unresolved tension #friends to lovers #homoerotic

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cheetabites · 7 months ago

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☆彡 pairs of two ; the marble game ˳༄꠶

characters: park gyeong seok (player 246), kang dae ho (player 388) and hwang in ho (player 001 / the frontman)

˳༄꠶ summary: headcannons about how it would go if you and these characters played the marbles game together

★ all the prior experience within the games that included some form of group / partnership didn’t necessarily put the amount of psychological pressure on the players as much as this game did; mingle sure did put a number on them, but with the small time frame it was easier to fight for their life and abandon the lives that couldn’t keep up. this game however allowed you to willingly partner up with someone without knowing the rules beforehand, basking within their presence and getting to know each other before ultimately putting you both at the end of each others gun.

park gyeong seok (player 246)

★ being partnered up with him be complicated. there was a small part of him that wanted to lose so you could proceed to the next stage, but there was an even bigger part of him that reminded him that he had a daughter waiting for him back outside of this hellhole. he definitely struggled mentally within the first few minutes of game, not knowing if it would be a good idea to abandon the mutual relationship you’d created together. but in the end his desire to leave and get back to his daughter won over so you both played the game

★ the game you chose to play would be where you would at first prompt the guard that was overseeing the both of you to pick an number between zero and one hundred, and then the both of you had to choose a random number between those two numbers. after announcing both of your answers you’d look towards the guard that was monitoring the two of you and ask what number they’d chosen, and whatever number was closest would get one of the opposite’s marbles. if after ten rounds of that neither of you had the full twenty marbles, you’d play one round of rock, paper, scissors and whoever won got all of their partners marbles - leaving them as the winner

★ gyeong seok would end up as the loser, but before the guard could escort you away you instead traded all the marbles to him. even though you desperately wanted to return home, there was not much you could leave behind besides materialistic things if you’d died; but gyeong seok had a daughter. a daughter who he was fighting so hard for. you respected his devotion for her and how he was even trying to protect you by not admitting he wanted to be the one who got out of here. and in the end, player 246 passed this round and made it one step closer to going home - but lost some part of himself when he heard the gunshot round off in the background

kang dae ho (player 388)

★ dae ho hated this game as soon as he heard the rules echo from the dusty old speakers. as the clock finally began ticking he spent the first ten minutes denying the ultimate fate one of you would have to face, pacing back and forth as you watched him carefully

★ the both of you didn’t engage in playing for either of your marbles; you’d both already made the decision of who was going to win - although you weren’t too pleased, you knew you couldn’t fight him when he was so determined. dae ho was ready to sacrifice himself for you. he wouldn’t be able to continue on if you were the one to die so he just handed his marbles over then and there - spending the rest of the remaining time just talking about your lives and what your ambitions and dreams for the future were

★ when the timer ran out you’d stopped the guard from taking you away and locked eyes with him just before he was shot dead; he looked scared, yes. but he still was able to muster out a small smile for you. but when the bullet launched from the gun you couldn’t hold your tears back anymore and proceeded with the guards

hwang in ho (player 001 / the frontman)

★ mr hwang is pulling an oh il-nam in this game. for one, for him to partner up with you you’d have to have some kind of bond. he’s already witnessed countless deaths and has played with countless lives that pairing up with a random player wouldn’t be any fun. he definitely likes the dramatics of it, and has to play it off as if he’s heartbroken that one of you’d have to die. in the end though, he ends up sparing you and sacrificing ‘his life’

★ YOU don’t end seeing him again, but he has all cameras on you babes. if you win, call yourself seong gi-hun cause he gonna be stalking your ass. just make sure you don’t wanna play hero or you’re gonna end up right back in those games. just think of your momentary situationship / lover as dead and spend your money on a trip to ireland or something and drink some margaritas

the end! i hope you enjoyed <3!

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castielscaplan · 9 months ago

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Painted Basketballs (Billy Hargrove)

Summary: you panic at the thought of talking to Billy.

Warnings: fluff, billy's nice :), shy reader

WC: 1.3K

Read on ao3!

Request: Billy Hargrove idea: Reader is a new girl from out of State; shy, reserved, and a little nerdy. She watches the basketball practice and draws the scene and wants to give it to Billy... as she waits outside of the boy's locker room showers, she calls out to him and then starts to get a panic attack from nerves, and he reacts to her. Steve, Eddie, and Tommy H make appearances. @fandom-princess-forevermore

You were never the type to make a scene. In fact, you preferred to blend into the background, fading into the quiet corners of the world where no one would notice your existence. Moving to Hawkins from out of state had been a whirlwind of adjustment—new school, new people, a new everything. So, naturally, you took to the sidelines.

It wasn't that you didn't want to make friends or fit in—it was just... hard. You were shy, reserved, and admittedly a little nerdy. That combination didn't exactly make you the most popular girl in school. But you found your own way of navigating this small, quirky town. Art, for one. Your sketchbook became your best companion. You carried it everywhere, always ready to capture something interesting, something beautiful, something that made you feel like you belonged in this unfamiliar place.

That’s how you found yourself outside the gym one late afternoon, watching the boys’ basketball practice through the windows. You had been drawn to it, not for the game itself, but for the motion—the intensity of their movements, the way they worked as a team, the way their bodies twisted and turned with so much raw energy. You couldn’t help but be captivated by the scene.

And so you had your sketchbook, perched on the low wall outside, pencil moving with practiced ease over the paper, capturing the fast-paced action. The light spilling through the windows, the sweat glistening on their bodies, the determined looks on their faces—it was all so real, so vivid. But one figure in particular caught your attention.

Billy Hargrove.

There was something about him—the way he moved with a certain effortless confidence, the way his cocky smirk never seemed to leave his face, even when he was in the middle of the game. He was different from the other guys, and you couldn’t help but feel a sense of awe when he was around. He was the kind of guy who commanded attention, even if he wasn’t trying.

You focused on him, the tip of your pencil gently shading in the muscles of his arms as he caught the basketball mid-air, ready to make a play. Your hand moved without thinking, lost in the rhythm of the moment, as you added little details to the picture—his hair, messy with sweat, his narrowed eyes, and the confident way he held himself.

The bell rang, signaling the end of practice. You hurried to finish your drawing, heart beating a little faster at the thought of giving it to him. It wasn’t a big deal. Just a drawing. You were sure it would go unnoticed, or worse, mocked. But you couldn’t stop the feeling—the desire to do something bold, something outside of your usual comfort zone.

And so, you waited.

The basketball players made their way toward the locker room, chatting loudly as they disappeared into the building. You stood outside, tapping your fingers nervously on your sketchbook. You had no idea what to say when Billy came out. Would he laugh at your drawing? Would he even look at it? Would he think you were a total freak?

But you told yourself that it didn’t matter. You were going to do this.

The minutes dragged on as you waited, your palms sweating. You finally heard the sound of the locker room door opening, the voices of the guys drifting out into the hallway. You stood straighter, trying to act normal, but your heart was pounding in your chest.

You saw him before he saw you. Billy, still in his practice clothes, towel slung over his shoulder, looking every bit the image of someone who didn’t have a care in the world. You swallowed thickly, gathering the last of your courage.

“Billy!” you called out, your voice small but loud enough to catch his attention.

He turned, raising an eyebrow as his eyes locked onto yours. You stood there, holding the sketchbook to your chest like a shield, suddenly feeling very self-conscious.

“Hey,” Billy said, his voice low, the same smirk on his face, though it looked more amused now. He took a step closer, running a hand through his damp hair. “What’s up, new girl?”

You felt a knot of nerves twist in your stomach. You wanted to say something witty, something that would make you seem confident, but all you could manage was a small, shaky breath.

“I—uh, I drew this,” you stammered, holding out the sketchbook. “I... thought you might like it.”

Billy’s gaze flicked down to the book, his eyebrow raising again as he glanced from your face to the drawing. You could feel the heat rise in your cheeks as he studied the page, his silence making your anxiety skyrocket.

Suddenly, the world felt too tight. Your breath started coming in shallow bursts, your vision blurring as the edges of the world seemed to fade away. You could feel the panic building, your chest tightening, the weight of your own nerves too much to handle.

You were having a panic attack.

Your hands were trembling, and the sketchbook felt heavy in your grasp. You wanted to put it down, to run away and disappear. You tried to steady yourself, but the room was spinning, your body feeling disconnected from your mind.

“Hey, hey, you okay?”

Billy’s voice broke through the fog in your head. You barely registered him taking a step closer, his expression suddenly changing from amusement to concern.

“I—I’m fine,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “I’m just... sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

Before you could finish, Billy’s hand reached out, gently touching your arm, grounding you.

“You’re not fine,” he said softly, his voice calm but firm. “Take a deep breath. Just focus on me, okay?”

You nodded weakly, trying to do what he said, but it felt so hard.

Then, out of nowhere, Steve Harrington appeared, walking up behind Billy, his brows furrowing when he noticed the tension.

“Everything alright here, man?” Steve asked, his voice casual but concerned, as if he sensed something was off.

Eddie Munson, trailing behind Steve and Tommy H., noticed too. “Whoa, is she okay?” Eddie asked, eyeing you with a mixture of confusion and concern.

Billy gave them a quick glance, then turned back to you, his hand still on your arm. “She’s just having a rough moment. Give her some space.”

Steve stepped forward, eyeing Billy for a second before his gaze softened. “Hey, you’re gonna be fine. We got you, alright?”

You nodded, struggling to focus on their reassuring voices. With each word, it felt like the panic was slowly starting to ease, the fog lifting from your mind.

Billy gave you a small smile, his usual bravado replaced with a tenderness you hadn’t expected. “It’s alright, new girl. You’re good. Just breathe with me.”

And somehow, you did.

When the panic finally passed, you exhaled shakily, feeling the relief wash over you. Billy’s hand was still lightly gripping your arm, though he had let go once he saw you were steady.

“Thanks,” you whispered, still feeling a bit shaky but mostly calm.

Billy smirked, his usual cocky attitude slipping back into place. “Yeah, well, I’m not exactly used to comforting people. But you’re okay now, right?”

You nodded again, feeling embarrassed but grateful.

“I, uh... I meant it, though,” you said, lifting the sketchbook up again. “The drawing, I mean. I—well, I wanted you to have it.”

Billy took it from you, his eyes briefly flicking over the page again. “I’ll keep it,” he said, a genuine smile tugging at his lips now. “Maybe you should draw me again sometime. When you’re feeling... better.”

You smiled faintly, a wave of warmth flooding through you. Maybe being the “new girl” wasn’t so bad after all. Maybe, just maybe, you’d find a place for yourself here.

And Billy Hargrove? Maybe he wasn’t as unreachable as he seemed.

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hoshifighting · 10 months ago

Note

I’ve always thought about this but, how would seventeen react to you faking your orgasm

seungcheol “wait, what?” he’ll say, eyebrows furrowing as he pulls back, looking at you like you just pulled the rug out from under him. “are you serious right now?” he’s not mad, but you can see that competitive side of him flare up. he wants to know if he’s not doing something right. “come on, babe, you gotta be honest with me. if you’re not there, tell me so i can fix it.” he’s the type to take it to heart. seungcheol wants to please you, and if he thinks he’s not, it hits him hard. but if he realizes you’re playing with him, oh, you’d better believe he’ll turn it around. “you think you can fake it with me? nah, i know you better than that. now let’s see you really enjoy it.” and from there he’ll definitely give you a show, making sure you feel every bit of pleasure until you can’t help but give in for real.

jeonghan “let’s see if you can keep that up, hmm?” he’ll definitely ramp it up, hitting all the right spots, making sure you’re squirming and gasping for real this time. jeonghan knows how to play the game, and he’s determined to make you admit you’re enjoying it. “really? you think i wouldn’t notice?” he’d tease, the corner of his mouth lifting. “you’re cute, but come on, babe. you gotta do better than that.” he’d be so amused, finding it kind of funny that you’d even try to pull that on him, jeonghan isn’t one to let that slide. he’ll take it as a challenge.

joshua’s the type to notice the little things, so when he catches on that you’re not being completely honest, his brows would furrow a bit. “wait, why are you… faking it?” he’d ask, his voice soft, but there’s a hint of disbelief in it. “did i do something wrong?” he’d sound genuinely worried, because the last thing he wants is for you to not enjoy yourself. if you tell him it's because you wanted him to do this or that, like speed up; “you know, if you wanted me to go harder, all you had to do was ask baby.”

junhui’d be totally thrown off. “huh? wait, you didn’t…” he’d stammer, pausing to look at you, his brows knitting together. he’d be a bit hurt at first, like, did he not make you feel good enough? “are you okay? did i mess up?” but then, as you explain, you’d catch a glimpse of that funny side of him coming out. “oh, so you just wanted to see me work for it?” he’d tease, a cheeky grin spreading across his face. “well, now i’m gonna make sure you feel it, every inch of it.”

hoshi hears that little moan you let out, and he pauses, tilting his head like a puppy. “babe?” he’d ask, a little breathless, his brows raised. “did you just…?” when you finally confess, he’d burst into laughter, his bright smile lighting up the room. “ya! you little sneak!” he’d tease, shaking his head. “you’re lucky i love a challenge.” he’d dive right back in, he’d ramp it up, making sure to work you up until you’re genuinely moaning for him.

wonwoo’s usually pretty observant, so when he hears that breathy fake moan, he raises an eyebrow, leaning back slightly to look at you. “really? is that how it’s gonna be?” he chuckles. and then he’d hit you with those slow, deep thrusts, a wicked smile on his face as he watches you squirm. “come on, give me the real thing this time,” he’d tease, stimulation you where he cans, tits, clit, neck.

woozi’d pause for a second, giving you that signature eyebrow raise, looking way too cute to be caught off guard. “no, you didnt.” he’d frown, trying to process what just happened. “you can’t just go around faking it like that. let’s see how long you can keep that act up. i’ll make you cum so hard that faking it won’t even cross your mind.” makes you double tired.

minghao'd know exactly when you're faking it, that sharp intuition of his kicking in right away. he'd probably play along at first, all smug and calm. “is that how you really want to do this?” he’d chuckle, making sure you know he’s about to make it impossible to fake anything next time, drawing it out until you're absolutely ruined.

mingyu would take it personally. if you fake it, he’d definitely pout for a second, confused. “did i… not do it right?” but once he gets over the initial hit to his ego, he'd go all in to prove a point. “you won’t have to fake it next time, trust me,” he’d mutter, then absolutely rail you until there's no mistaking how good he’s making you feel.

seokmin would probably be a combination of adorably flustered and a little offended. “wait, really? you faked it?” he’d sound almost hurt but would quickly turn it into a challenge. “no way i’m letting you get away with that.” he'd get serious real quick, making sure you’re not faking anything next time, putting in extra effort just to hear you scream his name for real.

seungkwan omg, seungkwan would be so dramatic about it! “you WHAT?!” he'd be half in disbelief, half ready to give you a lecture on honesty. but deep down, it’d spark his competitive side, and he'd be determined to make you feel it all the way. “okay, no more faking. i’ll make sure of that,” and then he’d put in work to have you trembling for real next time.

vernon would be the most chill about it, but he’d definitely call you out. “wait… did you just fake that? i mean why would you—” he’d ask, eyebrows raised. “nah, we’re not doing that again,” he'd say in his low, calm voice, all serious, before starting to pound into your again, reaching for your clit, or your weak spots, working harder so you don't act it.

chan would know exactly what’s up. with his own praise kink, he’d catch on quick if you weren’t really into it, and he’d take it as a confront. “oh, you wanna fake it with me?” he'd smirk, his hands gripping your hips harder. “lemme show you what it feels like to really cum.” he'd flip the script, making sure he works you over until faking it isn’t even an option.

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oceanicfishies · 3 months ago

Text

When you're in the mirror, do you like what you see?

— featuring: celebsub!rafayel x bodyguard!mc

— premise: Rafayel has gone out partying you, as his bodyguard, are responsible for his survival: at the end of the night he's a horny little man and you're happy to comply

— tags/cws: non-canon, nsfw, overstimulation, dubcon, choking, slight exhibitionism if you glimpse, r!ding, etc its just overall filthy smut.

— soundtrack: 360 by Charli XCX

I’ve been trained not to stare whenever he begins dancing in the middle of the bar, grinding against strangers and drinking shot as if he was payed to do so. To a certain extent, I believe he attempts to forget everything, I can’t determine which is the reason specifically for this nostalgia for someone I believe to not know.

But as times goes on, it’s hard not to, it’s hard to ignore the glances he redirects to me.

He moves through the crowd like he knows he owns it, head tilted slightly, eyes lidded, rings flashing under low, violet light. The kind of guy who doesn’t need to try. The kind who has people bending for him without saying a word.

And me? I’m the shadow behind him, keeping him safe and fucking him mad once in a while.

His voice crackles in my earpiece. “I’m gonna get a drink.”

“No crowd,” I mutter back. “Keep it tight.”

He flashes me a look over his shoulder—mischief, defiance, and something else.

“I’ll behave,” he lies.

He doesn’t.

The club’s pulse is loud. Music thumping in the air, the scent of sweat and liquor mixing, bodies moving like waves in an ocean. But Rafayel? He’s a different kind of wave.

He’s not walking through the crowd, he’s dancing through it, playful. His fingers brush over backs, over arms, over hips. There’s no hesitation in his touch, just a little mischief like a whisper against the skin. But it’s subtle, quick. Like an inside joke only he’s in on.

And then, those fingers. They land on mine.

His touch is light. Deliberate. A tease.

I feel the way he leans into me as we hit the bar—his voice low, like he's sharing a secret, just for me.

"Careful, love," he murmurs, his lips curling into a smirk that makes my pulse skip. “You look like you’re about to drag me into the back and ruin me.”

There’s an edge to his words, flirtation, but also that bratty arrogance that always seems to cling to him, no matter how much I try to rein him in.

I don’t say anything at first. I just reach for him, grab his wrist gently, and drag him closer until he’s pressed against me. My lips brush against his ear, my breath catching.

“I’ll ruin you whenever I want, pretty boy,” I whisper, dragging my teeth over his earlobe.

He shivers under me, but his smile doesn’t fade. It widen’s.

“Mm, well, I can’t wait, love.” His fingers slide down my back, low enough to send a wave of heat through me. “But I’m not begging for it this time. Not until you make me.”

He leans back, all bravado now. That playful, bratty attitude in full force, like he’s daring me. It makes me want to take him right there, in front of all these strangers.

I force a smile and bring my fingers up to his throat, wrapping around it loosely. He’s not afraid. Not yet. But he will be.

“Don’t think I won’t,” I murmur, my fingers tightening just enough to make his eyes flicker with a flash of excitement. “You’re mine to play with, remember?”

Rafayel laughs as if the whole thing is a game. He tilts his head back, letting me see the delicate curve of his throat. He looks dangerous when he’s like this, taunting, and yet, completely at my mercy.

“I don’t beg, love. Not unless I want to.” His hand slides down the front of my shirt, brushing over my chest with just the right amount of pressure. “But you could make me want to.”

It’s an invitation, and I don’t need him to ask twice.

Before I know it, I’m pulling him away from the crowd, guiding him toward the exit. The cool air hits us as we reach the back of the club, and I can feel the way he looks at me now, eyes full of that bratty spark, like he’s daring me to break him.

And god, I want to.

Once we’re in the car, the world outside disappears, leaving just the two of us. I’m on top of him in seconds, hands on his chest, pinning him down as his legs spread beneath me as I gently cover his clothed cock with my hand.

I pull back, watching his eyes widen in that mischievous way they always do when he’s too far gone to be anything but playful.

“This is going to be hard for you,” I say.

He grins, that bratty little grin of his that melts me and drives me insane all at once.

“Then make me beg, love,” he purrs, thrusting his hips up into me, pushing me deeper into the seat.

I press my hand to his throat, cutting off his breath just enough to make him feel the power shift. “You’ll beg when I’m done with you. For now, you’re just my little toy.”

His lips curl up into a grin, even though his chest is rising and falling fast. He likes it when I’m rough. He likes it when I break him.

I lean in, close enough that our mouths almost touch, just so I can hiss, “Don’t push me, pretty boy.”

He grins, lazy and hungry. “Why not?”

I shouldn’t answer. I shouldn’t. But I do.

The music thunders outside the club, the energy vibrant, but it’s not the atmosphere that has my attention. It’s him.

It’s quick. Subtle. Like a secret he’s sharing. A quick, deliberate touch on my wrist, then he leans in, his lips just a whisper away from my ear. "How strong is your desire?"

I don’t answer him. Instead, I slowly begin to kiss his neck, licking his sweat and murmuring filthy words "you're such a desperate little slut... could not wait until we arrived home..:"

“You're so desperate for me” he says, his voice loud, cocky. The same arrogant grin that never seems to leave his face.

I grab his jaw, hard enough to make him flinch, and his mouth falls open. But not in surprise—no, it’s more like he’s just waiting for me to claim him. My thumb presses against his bottom lip, just hard enough to make it bloom red.

“Don’t talk,” I murmur, my voice low, controlling.

He nods once, his pupils wide with that dangerous combination of lust and defiance. He’s slipping already. And I haven’t even touched him properly yet.

“You want this?” I ask, voice like steel, drawing out the tension.

“Yes.” His voice is strained, breathless already. “Please.”

He doesn’t move. Doesn’t breathe. Just watches me like I’m the only thing that matters in this moment. Like I’m everything. I can feel the heat radiating off him, the unspoken tension building between us.

I sink to my knees in the little space that the car has, the sound of the floor under me barely registering. My mouth hovers just over the waistband of his jeans. I can smell him—fuck, he smells like trouble and something deeper, something dangerous that I crave. I’m slow, methodical as I tease him through the denim, dragging my mouth over him just enough to make him twitch.

“Fuck…” he whispers.

“Quiet,” I whisper back. “You don’t get to talk unless I tell you.”

I undo his belt, the buckle clicking as I take my time—slow, deliberate, letting him feel every second of anticipation. He’s biting down on the inside of his cheek, eyes fluttering. His hands stay pressed against the wall, tense but unmoving. He’s doing so well.

I palm him through his boxers, dragging my nails over his length just to hear the sharp, breathy gasp that escapes him. His hips jerk forward, needy. Desperate.

“Patience,” I murmur. “You’re not the one in control tonight.”

“I know,” he breathes, his voice strained, thick with lust. “I know. Please…”

I pull him out of his boxers, the heat of his cock heavy in my hand. He lets out a guttural sound, his head falling back against the wall with a dull thud, exposing his throat to me. The power shift is clear. He’s mine to play with, to break.

I wrap my fingers around him, stroking him once, slow, teasing, deliberate in my movements, like I’m savoring every inch of him. He’s panting, his chest rising and falling, his body trembling with need.

“Beg for it,” I whisper, the command slipping from my mouth without a second thought.

His lips part in frustration, but his voice is breathless, desperate. “Please… I need it. I need you.”

That’s what I’ve been waiting for. His walls have crumbled. He’s mine.

His body trembles under my touch, slick with sweat, every nerve a live wire, and I feel the tremor of his frustration coursing through me as much as it does through him. His hands are shaking, but he keeps them pressed against the wall, desperate to hold on. The way he’s holding himself back, is almost as intoxicating as the way he moans when I barely touch him.

“You’re so close, aren’t you?” I murmur against his ear, my voice low and dangerous.

He groans, a sound so guttural it pulls something tight in my chest. His hips jerk forward, need and desperation in his every movement. “Please,” he pleads again, voice raw, broken. “I can’t—please."

“No,” I cut him off, my hand firm on his hip, holding him in place. “You don’t get to need anything right now. Not unless I say you do.”

I watch his chest rise and fall with every breath, the desperation clouding his gaze, and it makes something dark stir inside me. He’s mine. Every inch of him. And I’m not done yet.

I lean in again, my lips brushing against his ear. “You know you don’t deserve to come yet, right? You haven’t been good enough.”

The words hit him like a physical blow, and I feel his body quake as he struggles to hold onto his composure, his control. But it’s slipping. I can feel it. He’s not going to last much longer.

“Fuck,” he hisses, his voice desperate. “Please"

I tighten my grip on his jaw, forcing him to meet my eyes. “You think you’ve earned it?” I ask again, the question hanging heavy between us.

He hesitates, then nods, though it’s clear he’s fighting the urge to beg me. He’s always so fucking proud, so goddamn stubborn, but I know it’s killing him inside. “Yes,” he finally chokes out. “I’ve been good. Please—just a little bit, please, just let me—”

But I’m done with his begging for now. “You’ve been good,” I say softly, and I drag my thumb across his lower lip like I’m tasting the last of his resistance. “But not good enough.”

His eyes flash with something raw and dangerous, a flicker of rebellion that only makes me want to crush him even more. He’s so close to breaking, and it’s all I can do to keep him on the edge.

I lean in, my lips brushing over his in a kiss that’s nothing but dominance and control. “You’ll wait for me,” I whisper against his mouth, pressing my body closer to his, feeling every inch of his desperate need. “You’ll wait until I say so.”

He groans again, but this time there’s no fight in it, just the sound of someone completely unraveling under my touch. And I let him. I let him fall apart, piece by piece, until he’s nothing but putty in my hands.

“Hands behind your back,” I say.

He obeys immediately, like it’s instinct. I grab both his wrists in one hand and hold them there. His cock twitches uselessly between us, dripping, flushed to the tip, aching for anything I refuse to give.

I kiss him—deep, slow, biting.

And then I whisper against his lips:

“You’ll come when I say. Not before.”

In a mere second I'm straddling him with a cocky smile,

His hands hover at my hips, but he doesn’t touch. Not until I nod.

“Good boy,” I whisper. “You waited.”

His eyes flutter shut like praise is more than he can handle.

I grind down slowly, and he gasps—hips bucking up automatically, chasing friction.

“Nuh-uh,” I mutter, catching his jaw. “You don’t move unless I let you.”

He’s still hard, so swollen and red he twitches when I drag my fingers down his stomach and over the head. I line him up under me, sinking just the tip in. His whole body arches.

“Please,” he whispers, voice cracked. “I can’t—please.”

“You can,” I whisper. “You will.”

And then I drop.

Take him in one slow, deliberate slide. His head thumps back against the seat and his mouth falls open in a soundless moan. I still when he’s fully inside—tight, hot, deep. He shudders under me.

I don’t move.

“You feel that?” I ask.

He nods quickly. “Yes. Oh fuck, yes.”

I roll my hips, once. Gentle. Measured.

He’s trembling now. Hands gripping the edge of the seat like it’s the only thing grounding him. I drag my mouth along his collarbone, breathing against the skin as I clench around him—once. He whines.

“Keep it together,” I murmur. “You want to come, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Then don’t you dare.”

I start riding him slow. Deliberate. Every drag of his cock inside me is a tease. My hands on his chest, my lips at his neck, grinding down in just the right way to make him sob.

“Fuck—fuck—please"—I can’t take it—”"

“You will,” I hiss. “You’ll take it like a good little toy, and you’ll keep that pretty cock in check.”

He’s shaking. Sweating. Moaning through clenched teeth.

“You’re gonna sit there,” I say, hips moving faster now, “and you’re gonna feel me. But you’re not gonna finish until I say.”

“Please—please—I need it—”

“You need me. Not your release.”

And then I stop. I stay seated, tight around him, pulsing—just enough to drive him wild.

He sobs. His whole body is rigid.

“You like being used?” I ask. “You like me riding your cock while you can’t do anything about it?”

“Yes,” he gasps, voice broken. “I love it, I love you, I’d do anything...”

“I know,” I say. “That’s why I’m not done ruining you.”

He’s holding on by a thread.

I can feel it in the way his cock twitches inside me, in how his eyes keep fluttering closed like he’s drowning and I’m the only breath he’s allowed. He’s never been this quiet. Never this good.

But he’s close.

Too close.

I ride him harder, not to push him over. To show him what he can’t have.

And he whimpers.

He tries. I know he does. He clenches his jaw, digs his nails into the leather of the seat, mutters your name like it might save him. But it’s useless. The second I drag my hands down his chest and grind, deep and slow, his body seizes.

And he comes.

Without permission.

“Fuck—fuck—” he chokes, eyes rolling back as he twitches, hot release spilling between us, leaking onto his thighs, staining my hips. It hits him hard, full-body. His breath stutters. His hands fly up like he’s trying to hold onto something, anything.

But I don’t let him hide.

I grab his face and make him look at me. “Did I say you could come?”

His mouth opens. No words. Just wrecked, breathless shock.

“I asked you a question.”

“N-no,” he whispers, shaking. “I—fuck, I’m sorry—I tried, I swear, I—”

“You disobeyed.”

“I couldn’t help it,” he says, and there’s a tear at the corner of his eye. “Please. Please don’t stop. I can take more—I’ll do better—”

I lean in, forehead to his, still seated on his cock, still keeping him inside me while he twitches with oversensitivity.

“You’re gonna sit there,” I murmur, “and take every second of this overstimulation until I decide you’ve earned forgiveness.”

He nods frantically, tears slipping down his flushed cheeks. “Yes. Please. Use me. Ruin me again. I’m yours.”

He means it.

He’s trembling under me. Eyes glassy, lips parted, chest heaving as he tries to recover from what I just put him through. But he’s not done. Not even close.

I lean in, my mouth brushing against his ear, hot breath a teasing whisper. “You thought you were finished?”

His body jerks, then stills as he realizes the answer is no. He hasn’t even come close to being done.

“Please…” he whispers, voice breaking. “Please… I can’t…”

“Shut up.” My hand comes to his throat, wrapping around it like I own it. Because I do.

His eyes widen. The panic flashes, but it’s mixed with something else now—something that pushes him further into submission.

“I said,” I repeat, squeezing just enough to make him feel the pressure without taking it too far, “don’t speak unless I tell you.”

He nods, desperate.

I release the pressure just a little, enough to let him breathe, but not enough to let him forget who’s in control.

His chest rises and falls beneath me as I slowly grind against him again, watching his face for the slightest sign that he’s breaking again. His lips part. His eyes are pleading.

“I’m not done with you,” I whisper against his ear. “You’re going to stay hard for me. I’m going to fuck you again.”

He whimpers, quietly, like a plea.

I lift my hips slowly, and the second I feel him harden beneath me again, I descend just as slowly, taking him deep inside. His mouth falls open in a silent gasp, and I can feel his body going tense again, like he’s trying so hard to hold back.

“You’re so fucking good at obeying,” I murmur, rocking my hips gently. “But you’re still not going to come.”

“I can’t…” he chokes out, trembling. “Please, I need it. I need to come so bad…”

But I’ve heard enough.

I press my hand to his throat again, tighter this time, just enough to make him stop—enough to make him feel like his body is mine.

“No,” I say again, my voice low and lethal. “Not yet.”

I hold him there, choking him just enough that his breathing becomes shallow, desperate, gasping for air. His hands try to grip me, but I force them away. They go limp at his sides. He’s powerless under me, and god, he loves it.

I release his throat once more, leaning in to kiss him. Tasting the salt on his lips, the desperate moans he can’t hold back. I break the kiss with a sharp smile.

“I’m going to make you come so hard, pretty boy,” I whisper, grinding down on him once more. “But you’ll have to wait.”

He shudders.

“Fuck, I’m so close… so close to coming again"

And then, just when I know he’s right there, I stop.

He whimpers, loudly, a broken noise. His whole body shakes beneath me as I pull off of him completely, leaving him on the edge. And it’s too much. Too raw. Too fucking good.

He’s begging now, broken, desperate, eyes pleading for me to let him come.

“No,” I whisper. “Not yet. You don’t get to come until I say you can.”

He’s trembling beneath me, eyes clouded, lips parted like he’s drowning. His body is slick with sweat, his chest rising and falling unevenly as I keep him on the edge, just where I want him—teetering between pleasure and torment.

I watch him, a silent question in my eyes, feeling the tension building in both of us.

His breath hitches.

“I can’t take it anymore,” he breathes, voice a ragged whisper. “Please, please let me come.”

His whole body is begging for it. He’s gone past the point of no return—he needs this, needs me to give him release.

But I want to see him break.

I lean down, kiss his lips softly, my hand still gripping his cock, just enough to keep him there without letting him get off too easily.

“I think you’ve earned it,” I whisper. “But only because you begged.”

He groans as I take him in my mouth again, this time deeper, slower—rougher, just the way he needs it. His hips move instinctively, pushing into me. His hands fist the seat. His back arches.

And then I feel it—the way his body tenses, the way his legs start to shake.

“Fuck, please…” he mutters, and then—finally—he explodes. He comes hard, spilling into my pussy with a desperate, strangled cry.

I don’t stop. I keep going, riding him in.The release is more than he thought he could take—his hands grip the seat, his body shuddering violently as the last of his tension breaks.

It’s only then that I pull back, smiling as I watch him try to catch his breath. His chest rises and falls, eyes wide, body still trembling from the aftermath.

“You did so good,” I whisper, leaning in to kiss his forehead.

He’s still gasping for air, like he’s floating in a cloud of pleasure and relief. His skin is flushed, lips red and swollen from the kisses, his eyes heavy with exhaustion.

I slide up next to him, wrapping my arms around him to pull him into me. He’s so soft now. Still hot, but softer—vulnerable. It’s like he’s letting go of everything he was holding onto, trusting me fully.

“You’re alright now,” I murmur, pressing my lips to his temple. “Just breathe. I’ve got you.”

His head rests against my chest as I rub circles on his back, letting the silence between us feel comfortable. He’s still shaking a little, but it’s a different kind of tremble now. No longer from denial, but from the sheer intensity of the release.

“I’m sorry,” he says softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “I couldn’t… I just needed you…”

I smile, a soft, reassuring smile. “You don’t need to apologize. You’re mine when you’re with me, and I’ll take care of you.”

He leans into me, a contented sigh escaping his lips. And even though he’s exhausted, there’s a part of him that still craves more—the tension still in his body, the need for me to guide him through whatever comes next. But for now, he’s spent.

I stroke his hair gently, kissing the top of his head.

“You did so well, love,” I murmur again. “Just rest. You’ve earned it.”

198 notes · View notes

lovelyjuju · 9 months ago

Text

ꜱᴛᴀʀꜱᴛʀᴜᴄᴋ – ʙʏᴜɴ ᴇᴜɪᴊᴏᴏ

euijoo x fem!reader

genre: love at first sight – college au!, fluff

warnings: a little angst here and there, curse words, alcohol consumption, euijoo is literally just so in love it hurts

word count: 6.5k

euijoo was never the type to receive a lot of attention from others. he wasn't disliked, he just went unnoticed – overlooked, despite his height. but he didn't mind. he liked it that way; being in his own little bubble that consisted of classes, late night study sessions, his favourite books, and weekends spent gaming with his best friend nicholas. it was peaceful like that and he wouldn't have wanted it any other way.

until he met you.

euijoo was weaving through the crowded college hallways, lost in thought about the upcoming exam period, and mentally organizing how to spread out all the study materials over the next two weeks, when a bright, unfamiliar laugh pierced through the haze of his thoughts.

almost instantly, his eyes found the source of the sound – and he swore he could feel his heart sink. for a moment, he stood frozen, completely taken aback. it wasn’t just your appearance that left him breathless, but something more – a kind of effortless energy that seemed to fill the space around you. he couldn’t believe he had never noticed you before. had you always been there, just beyond the edge of his awareness, waiting to catch him off guard?

the easygoing, yet warm smile you wore, made his heart flutter in a way he'd never experienced before – it captivated him, leaving his eyes fixed on you, unable to look away.

it wasn’t until a dull ache in his shoulder brought him back to reality that he finally gathered his thoughts. "how about not standing in the middle of the hallway," he heard an irritated student mutter as they brushed past him. euijoo quickly stepped aside, clearing his throat before mumbling a half-hearted apology.

when he looked back at you, you were gone, the spot that had held your presence just moments ago now empty, yet somehow, your warmth still seemed to linger in the air. he shook his head as if it could clear his mind that suddenly seemed to only have space for you – exams long forgotten.

as he continued his way to the cafeteria, he tried his best to quiet his thoughts, but to no avail. it was almost ridiculous, he thought, how just twenty seconds of seeing you could completely take over his mind. hell, he didn't even know your name, and until two minutes ago, he hadn’t known you existed at all.

he tightened his grip on the straps of his backpack and exhaled deeply before stepping into the cafeteria, scanning the room for nicholas, determined not to let anything show.

"juju! everything okay?" nicholas greeted him once the younger found him sitting at a table.

"yes," he replied, almost a little too quickly. "why wouldn't everything be okay?"

nicholas furrowed his brows, leaning back in his chair a bit, and scanned his best friend's face carefully. "you know," he started, "i usually ask. but honestly, today you're being weird about it." nicholas crossed his arms in front of his chest. "so, what's up?"

euijoo quickly looked down, knowing damn well he couldn’t lie to nicholas face-to-face, and silently cursed himself for trying too hard to hide how he really felt. he'd always been too awkward when trying to play it cool, and nicholas was too much of a good friend to not notice.

"nothing," he mumbled after a while, "i'm just stressing over exams, i guess."

nicholas sighed slightly. "you know you'll ace it, you always do. why do you have to panic first?"

euijoo just offered a slight shrug as he picked up his chopsticks to eat his lunch, attempting to focus on nicholas’s ramble about finding healthy ways to relieve stress – attempting not to let his thoughts drift back to you once again.

even days later, euijoo couldn’t shake the moment from his mind. your laughter, your presence – it all replayed in his head, tugging at him in a way that was unfamiliar. he found himself scanning the hallways more often, hoping to catch even a glimpse of you. but whenever he did spot you, his heart would pound in his chest, his feet frozen, leaving him unable to approach. instead, he’d linger from a distance, admiring in silence, and hoping you wouldn’t notice.

nicholas was quick to catch on. the two were sitting on the lawn near campus after some hours of studying together in the library. it was evident that both were a little exhausted, but euijoo seemed quieter than usual, distracted.

"you’ve been acting weird lately," nicholas said after some moments of silence, a hint of concern coating his words. "what's going on? is it really just exams?"

euijoo tried to brush it off, shaking his head. "it's nothing, just a lot on my mind."

nicholas raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. just as he was about to respond, he noticed euijoo's eyes slightly widen at something. he followed his friend's gaze, realizing that it wasn’t something after all, but rather someone. euijoo wondered how you always somehow managed to be exactly where he was. so close, yet just so out of reach. he found himself watching you a moment longer than he intended, and nicholas, ever the attentive friend, understood immediately.

"a lot on your mind, huh? or someone on your mind? spill, who is she?"

after a long pause, euijoo sighed. "just–... actually, i don't know." he felt a heat rise to his cheeks just saying it.

nicholas's eyes lit up at euijoo's blushed cheeks, a grin spreading across his face. "you don't know? let me guess, you’ve never talked to her?"

euijoo frowned. "it’s not that easy. i don’t even know where to start. 'hi, i've been secretly watching you for a while now cause you're the prettiest girl i've ever seen?' will surely go well," he said sarcastically.

"it’s not rocket science," nicholas said with a laugh. "you don’t have to confess that you’re hopelessly in love with someone you barely know, juju. you just go up and say hi. you do know how to say hi, right?"

euijoo groaned, sinking deeper into the lawn. "i’m not like you, nicholas. i don’t know how to just... talk to people like that."

nicholas leaned in, a mischievous glint in his eye. "then we’re gonna fix that."

over the next few days, nicholas kept pushing him. whenever they passed you in the hallway, nicholas would nudge euijoo's shoulder and whisper, "now’s your chance," but every time, euijoo’s nerves would get the best of him. his heart would race, his hands would get all sweaty, and the words he wanted to say would evaporate before he could speak.

it became a routine – nicholas encouraging, euijoo hesitating. no matter how much he wanted to approach you, the thought of saying something and making a fool of himself kept holding him back.

nicholas, ever persistent, wouldn’t let up. "look, euijoo," he said one afternoon, pulling him aside after class, "if you don’t do something soon, someone else will. you don’t want to regret not taking your shot, do you?"

euijoo knew nicholas was right, but every time he tried to gather the courage, he felt like he was standing at the edge of a cliff, too afraid to jump.

one afternoon, in the final week of lectures before exam season would hit with full force, euijoo found himself sitting in the cafeteria, eating his lunch with nicholas while grumbling about the little time they had between lectures and exams, which left them hardly any opportunity to study in peace.

"euijoo," nicholas interrupted his best friend's rant, when he spotted you at a table. usually, you'd sit with your friends, but this time, you were all by yourself. he titled his head in your direction, instructing euijoo to look your way.

"she's alone, that's your chance," he encouraged him yet another time to approach you. the younger opened his mouth to object, but nothing came out – you weren't surrounded by your friends, you weren't rushing to your next class; he didn't have any excuses this time.

"what's the worst that can happen?" nicholas pressed.

the worst that can happen? him making a total fool of himself? you rejecting him? maybe even making fun of him? or worse, ignoring him?

despite the doubts swirling in his mind, he pushed his chair back, stood up on slightly wobbly knees, and walked over to your table. he didn't understand where his confidence came from, but as quickly as it did, it fled his body again, when someone else approached you first.

he stopped dead in his tracks, watching as kei, known as one of the best athletes on the college's team, sat down next to you, greeted you with a gentle kiss on your cheek, and wrapped his arm around your waist to pull you just a little closer.

euijoo's heart dropped. he felt stupid. so, so stupid. of course you had a boyfriend. why would a girl like you not have a boyfriend?

he turned around, hoping that the way he had stood there, as usual, just went unnoticed by everyone. he slowly went back to the table he shared with nicholas and sank down in his chair, shoulders slumped and eyes stuck to his still half-full plate.

a hint of worry washed over nicholas's face as he saw euijoo's expression. he intentionally hadn’t observed the approach, wanting to spare euijoo from feeling scrutinized, but now he couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt for not knowing if he could have jumped in to help. "what happened?" he asked softly, not sure if he'd even get a reply.

euijoo just shook his head, not lifting his gaze. "nothing. she's with kei," he replied silently.

nicholas slightly bit his bottom lip, watching as his best friend picked up his chopsticks again to pick at his food. "shit... i'm sorry, i had no idea," he mumbled, although knowing it wouldn't help anyhow.

again, euijoo shook his head slightly. "it's fine. it was delusional to think she'd be single anyways."

for the first time since he'd started college, euijoo felt genuinely thankful for the stress that came with exam season. he'd get to spend his time studying, sometimes until late at night, and whenever he finally closed his books, he was too exhausted to think about how he felt.

although nicholas tried his best to convince euijoo to take more breaks, the younger thrived on the distraction that studying brought about. it was a little ridiculous anyway, he tried to convince himself. he couldn't seriously be upset that his hallway crush had a boyfriend. after all, he didn't even know you, and now he was sure it would stay that way. so why be upset about it?

still, euijoo was happy when the last exam was done, a wave of relief washing over him. he knew he'd head back to his home country to spend the summer break with his family, and he was certain that by the time he'd return to college, he'd be fully unbothered by you.

during the summer break, euijoo found comfort in returning home, where life felt familiar and calm. being surrounded by family and catching up with old friends brought a sense of ease, and he could finally relax and clear his head.

each day that passed, the thought of you slipped further from his mind. it felt ridiculous, really – how a brief, one-sided crush had thrown him off so much. by the time summer neared its end, euijoo felt lighter. the idea of going back to campus no longer felt stressful.

he’d be fine; that's what he told himself. if he saw you again, so be it. but this time, he'd be walking back onto campus in control of his emotions.

his resolve lasted exactly one day.

he had almost made it throughout the first day of classes without running into you. one last class and he'd head to finally meet up with nicholas to catch up about the summer.

he found a spot near the middle of the room and settled in, pulling out his notebook and glancing around casually as the rest of the students trickled in. just as he was about to pull out his phone, the door opened again, and a familiar laugh echoed through the room.

his heart stopped for a moment, his hand freezing halfway to his pocket.

he didn’t even have to look to know it was you. that laugh – it was the same one that had derailed his focus for weeks last semester. and against his better judgment, he glanced up. there you were, walking in with a friend, that warm energy surrounding you like a halo. euijoo’s breath caught in his throat. you hadn’t noticed him, but he sure as hell noticed you. all the progress he thought he’d made over the summer crumbled in an instant.

he quickly looked down at his notebook, gripping his pen tighter than necessary, mentally scolding himself for how easily his resolve had vanished. stay calm, he told himself. it’s just one class. you’ll survive.

the professor began speaking, announcing the outline for the semester and the project that would take up the majority of their time, continuing with a speech on the importance of teamwork, but euijoo barely listened. had you gotten more beautiful over summer? was that even possible?

"i don't want any bickering on who's working with who, so i'll call out pairs. i expect everyone to work together efficiently," the professor continued, "raise your hand when your name is called so your partner can find you."

euijoo zoned out, still trying to push you from his mind, repeating a mantra to himself that everything was fine, that this would all blow over soon.

"byun euijoo and–" the professor called out, snapping him back to attention, "– y/l/n y/n."

euijoo scanned the room while hesitantly raising his hand.

his heart dropped. he could almost feel the air leave the room.

you had raised your hand. for a second, you seemed to look around, processing the pairing before your gaze settled on him.

slowly, as if in a daze, he looked up, meeting your eyes for the first time. it felt like time had slowed down, like every sound in the lecture hall faded away except for the quiet hum of his own heartbeat in his ears. he could feel the heat rushing to his face, his head starting to spin, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away.

you smiled – a soft, polite smile, the kind you give someone you don’t really know but are about to work with for an entire semester. it wasn't much, but oh god, euijoo swore the world stopped for a second.

when you turned back toward the front of the class, he didn't even know if he'd returned the smile, if he'd nodded in acknowledgement, or if he'd done absolutely nothing.

throughout the entire class, it became increasingly obvious for euijoo that the weeks of distance had done nothing to change the way he felt about you. he found himself zoning out, replaying the tiny interaction between you again and again, or looking back to your seat for just a second before he forced himself to look away.

as the professor ended class, he started packing up his things, and took a deep breath. he knew he'd had to talk to you now. and although techincally, he had prepared for that moment so long during the last semester, he felt himself hesitating yet again.

he tried to remind himself that it was just for the project and that there was no way he could ridicule himself now.

euijoo took a deep breath, trying to steady himself as the class began to filter out. his palms felt sweaty, and his heart raced faster with every step that brought him closer to where you were gathering your things. his mind raced with a thousand ways to approach the conversation, yet none of them seemed right.

as if sensing his approach, you glanced up from your bag, your eyes meeting his for the second time that day. that soft smile appeared again – this time with a hint of curiosity, and euijoo nearly forgot what he had planned to say. for a moment, the world felt too quiet, his nerves too loud.

"hi, euijoo, right?" you said, breaking the silence with an easy warmth. your voice was gentle, and somehow it felt like a small bit of relief to hear his name spoken so softly.

euijoo swallowed hard, blinking as if snapping out of a daze. "uh, yeah. that’s me." he managed a small, awkward laugh. "looks like we’re project partners."

you nodded, still smiling as you stood up. "looks like it. should we maybe set up a time to meet and figure out a plan?"

it was such a simple question, and yet euijoo’s heart felt like it was racing a marathon. he quickly nodded, trying not to let his nerves show. "yeah, sure. uh... maybe at the library? it’s usually quieter there." he didn't know how the hell he'd managed to sound so calm, but he felt a short pang of pride rush through him.

"perfect," you said, slinging your bag over your shoulder. "how about tomorrow afternoon?"

"tomorrow sounds good," euijoo replied, his mind scrambling for something else to say – something that wasn’t awkward or strange. his fingers fidgeted with the straps of his own backpack as he added, "uh, we can exchange numbers too? you know, to coordinate."

you smiled again, and euijoo could almost feel the tension melting away, though his pulse was still thrumming in his ears. "sure yes. just type in your number."

you handed him your phone, almost brushing his fingers with yours in the process, and he just hoped you didn't hear how his breath hitched. he quickly typed his number in and handed it back to you with a sheepish grin. "there you go."

"great! i’ll text you so we can figure out the details. see you tomorrow, euijoo."

with one last smile, you turned and headed toward the door, leaving euijoo standing there, his mind still trying to process the fact that not only had you smiled at him – twice – but now you had his number. sure, it was only for a project, and his chest still felt tight, his knees were still slightly shaky, but a strange sense of accomplishment settled over him.

"what took you so long?" nicholas frowned at his best friend as he finally approached their usual spot at the lawn.

euijoo plopped himself down next to him, hoping that the blush on his cheeks had faded by now, but nicholas was already eyeing him suspiciously.

“uh… nothing,” euijoo said, scratching the back of his neck. but the smile that kept creeping onto his face as his mind went back to the reason of his delay gave him away completely.

nicholas narrowed his eyes. “that is not a ‘nothing’ face. what happened?”

euijoo let out a long sigh, leaning back on his hands. “you remember that girl… the one from last semester?” he started, feeling his face flush slightly as he spoke.

"the one you swore you were over?" nicholas chimed in, an amused tone lacing his voice and a smirk tugging at his lips.

euijoo sighed, scratching the back of his neck. “i never swore anything,” he mumbled.

nicholas’s smirk only widened. “right. so what happened? did you see her?”

euijoo took a deep breath, feeling almost embarrassed at how easily he’d been caught. “she’s… in my class."

nicholas’s eyes lit up. “wait, her? she’s in your class?”

the younger nodded, his voice a little quieter now. “actually... we’re partnered up for the semester project.”

nicholas’s jaw dropped in exaggerated surprise, his smirk growing into a full grin. “no way. the girl you were practically obsessed with is now your project partner?”

“obsessed is a strong word,” euijoo protested, though he couldn’t deny that it wasn’t too far from the truth.

the older leaned in, eyes gleaming with mischief. "you do realize that this is the chance you've been waiting for, right?"

euijoo groaned, although he'd lie if he said he didn't allow himself to entertain that thought for a second. "it's not a chance, nico. she's taken, remember? i'm not going to try anything."

nicholas raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. "you cannot know that. maybe they broke up," he said, to which euijoo just shot him a pointed look that told him this was the end of their conversation.

in the following weeks, you and euijoo met regularly to work on the project. though the workload was tiring, the way your minds seemed to complement each other perfectly made the process surprisingly smooth. it seemed like you could finish all of his thoughts when he struggled, and he had all the answers to your questions.

it should have been a relief for euijoo, knowing the project wasn't going to be impossible to handle, but instead, it only made things more complicated for him. your sharp insights and ideas left him even more captivated, as he realized that beyond your pretty face that still left him breathless, and the energy you carried, you were also incredibly smart. it felt almost too much to handle.

during the time you spent together, he couldn't help but notice little things about you that he hadn't seen from the distance. like the way your brows furrowed slightly when you were concentrated, or the way you tapped your pen on your chin when you were thinking. all of these things, no matter how simple or seemingly meaningless, somehow only carved the place he had reserved for you in his heart a little deeper. it felt like every new thing he learned about you warmed his chest more.

he'd catch himself smiling whenever he'd watch you just a little too long while you were busy typing on your laptop, and he got used to quickly looking down or pretending to search something in his backpack every time he felt the all too familiar heat rushing to his cheeks.

it was a miracle, really, how you hadn't caught on yet. at least that's what nicholas said – that everyone could clearly see the way euijoo was so obviously, helplessly in love.

"you got it bad, huh?" he had asked one time he met euijoo after your scheduled study session at the library. but the younger had just quickly shrugged it off with a mumbled, "shut up."

of course, working with you didn't only bring warmth and nervouseness that had by now grown to feel almost comfortable. it also brought hard, almost cruel, reminders of the one-sidedness of his feelings. of how you weren't his.

there was that pretty necklace you wore – one with a small gem – that he was certain kei had gifted to you. it hung around your neck like a constant reminder that you belonged to someone else.

there was kei who'd come to pick you up from the library when you finished whatever you had planned for that day, so you wouldn't have to go home alone. euijoo was glad to know there was someone who made sure you got home safely, but hell, he would be that someone too.

every time he saw you smiling at your boyfriend's arrival, the brightness in your eyes sent a flutter through euijoo's heart, only to be swiftly replaced by the reminder of how happy you were with him. it felt like a punch to the gut, and he’d quickly look away, embarrassed by the way his heart ached.

the confidence kei radiated made euijoo feel almost small. kei seemed to be everything he was not, and even the thought of ever standing a chance felt ridiculous.

sometimes, while working on the project, you would receive a text from your boyfriend, and euijoo couldn’t help but glance at your phone. he’d see the photo of the two of you together as your lock screen, and it would make his chest tighten uncomfortably.

whenever you’d smile at your phone while typing a quick reply, it was like a dagger in his heart; you were so genuinely happy, and he felt foolish for still liking you when he knew damn well that you were taken. he felt stupid for even letting himself dream about what it would be like to be the one making you smile like that.

one afternoon when euijoo arrived to the library, he found you at your usual spot, already immersed in the book in front of you and taking notes here and there. he pulled out his phone, slight panic washing over him. was he late? no. 4:30pm – he wasn't late.

"hey," he greeted gently after approaching the table, careful to not startle you. you looked up from the book and your eyes met his for a second. he didn't know how many times you had held eye-contact with him already, but it still made his knees wobble like it was the first.

"hey," you greeted back with a soft smile, and he swore his heart skipped a beat or two.

"i'm not late, am i?" euijoo asked after sitting down across from you, taking out his supplies but never leaving your gaze.

"no, no, don't worry," you shook your head, "i just uh... had nothing to do, so i figured i could start already. here look," you handed him your paper of notes and, yet again, reading your ideas and understandings of the text almost stunned him.

you continued working together until you reached the goal you had set for the day. when euijoo packed up his things, he tried to mentally prepare himself to see kei, his stomach filling with nervous premonition. but he didn't catch any sight of him.

he watched as you finished packing your bag, and he swore your eyes scanned the library too – just for a second, before you quickly glanced down to your phone, biting your bottom lip just the tiniest bit.

"isn't uh... isn't kei coming?" euijoo asked, his tone careful, almost shy.

he saw a hint of something flash through your eyes – something he couldn't quite name, but it vanished as quickly as it came. you shook your head. "i'm going alone today," you responded, offering a slight smile.

euijoo couldn't help but feel that something was up. he would have loved to be there to listen if his intuition was right, but he knew he wasn't in the position to ask.

"i can walk you home," he blurted out the offer before his brain could even finish processing the thought. he mentally cursed himself, when he saw your slight smile. it looked different from your usual bright, friendly smiles – it looked more forced, not really reaching your eyes.

"sorry, that was a stupid idea," he added, his voice a little quieter now. his mind started racing. had he made you uncomfortable? was it weird for him to suggest keeping you company outside of the project?

"it wasn't," you replied equally quiet, yet you cut through the thoughts that had started clouding his mind. "i'll be fine, but i appreciate it... thanks, euijoo." the volume of your voice decreased until all that was left was another, almost shy but this time more genuine smile from you.

euijoo lingered for a moment, his bagpack slung over his shoulder, still standing at the table as you looked back down at your phone. he gave a small nod, even though you weren't looking, and quietly left the library, his mind replaying the brief conversation over and over.

the following week, you canceled the study session last minute. it was the first time you had done so, and euijoo felt an odd twinge of concern. he didn't pry, didn't want to dig deeper, but he couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't quite right.

when you rescheduled for the week after, euijoo's intuition only grew stronger; he could clearly sense something was off. you seemed quieter, more in thought than usual. during the session, your eyes occasionally drifted away from the book, your notes, and even from him, as if you were miles away.

it wasn’t until euijoo noticed the absence of your necklace that a deeper worry settled into him. you had absentmindedly reached for it, your fingers grazing your collarbone, but when they found nothing, you quickly pulled your hand away.

“hey,” he asked softly, “is everything okay?”

your eyes met his, surprised by his question, but you gave a small shrug, your lips pressing into a thin line. "yeah, it's fine."

euijoo knew better than that by now, and he wanted to help, but he also didn’t want to push too hard. he hesitated for a moment before softly offering, “you know... if you ever want to talk... i’m here.”

you gave him a longer look this time, something unreadable in your eyes. and then, after a brief pause, you exhaled, leaning back in your chair. “i broke up with kei.”

euijoo felt his breath catch in his throat. what? he hadn't expected you to tell him. not so quickly, and not this. the name hit the air between you both, hanging there for a moment.

"i... i'm sorry," was all he managed to say. he wasn't sure how to choose his words, but he wanted to comfort you. "that... must be hard."

you nodded slightly, looking down at your hands, your voice soft. "it’s been coming for a while, i guess. he’s been distant, and i should’ve known, but... yeah." euijoo could feel his heart crack at the hint of sadness in your voice.

he felt the urge to reach across the table, maybe take your hand or offer some kind of physical comfort, but he stopped himself. he knew the boundaries well, and he didn't want to overstep. instead, he gave you a warm smile, hoping that would soothe your pain – that it would somehow be enough.

“thanks for telling me,” he said gently. he wanted to say more, to be a better source of comfort. but he sensed that he shouldn't press further, that you didn't want to talk about it now. "if you need anything… i’m here.”

you didn’t say anything for a moment, but then you gave a small, genuine smile – one that felt more like you. "thanks, euijoo."

after that, the two of you returned to your routine of project work. you both focused on your work, talking when necessary but mostly just working comfortably in each other’s presence.

euijoo began bringing you your usual coffee, not making a big deal out of it, just setting it down next to your books with a small remark like, "i thought that might help to cheer you up a little."

and while you thanked him casually each time, those gestures began to tug at something inside you. you found yourself looking forward to seeing him, not because of the free coffee but because of him – the way he always seemed to know when you needed a break, the quiet understanding he brought with him. his presence felt like a comforting anchor in the storm that had been your breakup.

one time, you looked up to thank him, your eyes meeting his, and for a second, you held the gaze. for the first time, you noticed how his brown hair fell slightly over his eyes, how his smile reached them in a way that felt warm, inviting. your heart gave a tiny flutter that you immediately brushed off. euijoo sat down, pulling out his notebook, but you could feel his presence in a way that felt more heightened than usual.

as time passed, you started seeing things you'd never noticed before, like the way his eyes lit up when he was explaining something he seemed passionate about, or the way he'd always look down for a second when he smiled shyly. you tried to focus on the project, but your mind wandered – drifting back to the small moments where you found yourself lingering on him. you began to notice how his kindness, patience, and quiet support filled you with a gentle warmth that spread through you in a comforting way.

yet, each time you felt that warmth in your chest, you quickly dismissed it. it was too soon. you had just started getting over kei; the last thing you needed was to rush into something else.

but euijoo made it so easy. you were falling for him, you knew it. and he made that fall feel so effortless, almost natural – filled with a mixture of comfort and anticipation.

"please, euijoo," you begged, pouting your lips slightly, hoping that this would help you succeed in your attempt to persuade euijoo to join a party that a fellow student hosted to celebrate the end of the semester.

he opened his mouth to object, but, oh god, you were just too adorable to resist. he actually felt like he'd combust if you didn't stop pouting anytime soon, so he gave in. "fine, but only for two hours."

you smiled brightly, still catching euijoo off guard like the very first time he saw you smile. oh how he wished he could tell you just how much that smile meant to him.

throughout the second half of the semester, you two had somehow bonded, feeling a little less awkward and a little more comfortable around each other – conversations flowing with ease, even for euijoo. but despite nicholas's (unsuccessful) attempts to encourage euijoo to finally tell you about his feelings, the latter didn't want to ruin the comfort you had just found in each other. if that was the closest he could get to you, then he'd settle for that.

when you arrived to the party hours later that day, people were already gathering in the small place, chatting and drinking, and some even danced. you felt embraced by the warmth of euijoo's body next to you, although the two of you didn't touch. but it felt comfortable, somewhat safe.

you grabbed some drinks from the kitchen before pushing through the growing crowd of people, euijoo's hand softly staying on the small of your back as if to not lose you. your skin buzzed in the spot where his hand rested, but you tried to shrug the feeling off.

you spent your evening reminiscing about the past semester, laughing here and there at funny stories either of you had to tell.

as the evening wore on, the party around you grew louder, drawing you a little closer to each other, leaning in a bit more whenever the other said something. you hadn’t touched since euijoo’s hand had briefly rested on your back earlier, but you could still feel the ghost of it. now, so close to him, the thought kept drifting to the back of your mind, no matter how much you tried to focus on the conversation.

when you couldn't hear each other anymore, not even after leaning in unnervingly close, you exchanged a look, a silent understanding passing between you. without a word, you both quietly slipped out to the balcony.

the sudden quiet was soothing. you both leaned against the railing, the city lights glowing softly below, the distant sounds of the streets below grounding the moment.

neither of you spoke for a while, but the silence wasn’t uncomfortable. it felt more like a necessary pause. you could feel the weight of euijoo’s presence next to you, close enough that his arm almost brushed yours, but not quite.

after a few more beats of silence, euijoo shifted slightly, his hand brushing against the railing, fingers curling around it before he turned to you. his eyes found yours, and he didn't know if that was what pushed him, or if it was the alcohol in his blood that made his head buzz softly.

“you know,” he started, “i’ve been meaning to tell you something.”

you blinked, the soft buzz in your own head making his words seem like they were suspended in the air, slow to sink in. “yeah?” you asked, feeling your heart pick up pace. now or never, your intoxicated mind told yourself, "me too."

euijoo blinked, a bit taken aback, and the confidence he had brought up from god knows where suddenly vanished. he swallowed, tightening his grip about the railing. "what is it?" he asked quietly, too scared to say what had been on his mind now that he didn't know what was on yours.

you slightly shook your head. "no, you go first."

he hesitated, the silence stretching between you to a point it started to feel almost unbearable. he wouldn't go first, you thought, so you opened your mouth to beat him to it. but just when you uttered those three words, he did the same.

"i like you," you both said in unison, the words hanging in the air between you, leaving an almost tangible shock in their wake.

for a split second, you both froze, wide-eyed. then, simultaneously:

"what?"

again, the word echoed in both of your voices. you could feel your cheeks warming, and before you could help it, a small, nervous laugh escaped you.

euijoo blinked, stunned for a heartbeat, before the tension broke and he chuckled too, his laughter soft but genuine. the sound of it sent a wave of warmth through you, easing the fluttering in your chest.

"i–" he started, still smiling but a little more serious now. he took a breath, steadying himself, before his eyes found yours again. "i've been wanting to say that for a while. longer than i probably should have."

his confession was soft, but it felt heavy with sincerity. his eyes searched yours for a reaction, and you felt your heart flutter again.

you smiled, taking a step closer, feeling that familiar comfort in his presence. “i realized it recently,” you admitted quietly, “but… i can’t deny it anymore, either. being with you, it’s just… it feels... good."

euijoo’s gaze softened, and you could see the relief wash over his face, like the tension he’d been carrying for so long had finally lifted.

the space between you felt smaller now, filled with the weight of what had just been said.

for a moment, neither of you spoke. you just stood there, the city lights twinkling below. and then, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, euijoo took a small step forward, his hand reaching up gently, hesitantly, to brush a strand of hair away from your face.

your breath hitched as his hand lingered near your cheek, his touch light and careful, like he was waiting for permission. and with a small nod, you allowed him to close the distance that had always been between you – to finally kiss the lips that, with that laugh long ago, had captured him completely. <3

see my other works here | join my taglist here

#&team #&team x reader #andteam #luné #&team fluff #andteam x reader #byun euijoo #ej x reader #ej fluff #euijoo x reader #euijoo fluff

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vamptizm · 3 months ago

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SNOOZE — p. bueckers ( series teaser )

pairing: paige bueckers x soraya mensima (oc)

synopsis: rookie paige bueckers enters the league with confidence, charm, and a bad habit of gravitating toward things she shouldn’t want— like soraya mensima, the wings’ respected star and reluctant heartbreaker. soraya’s been here longer, knows better, and refuses to let lines blur... even as paige keeps rewriting them with every smile.

warnings: angst. fluff. sexual content. mentions of homophobia. mentions of substance abuse. explicit language. rejection. lots of hoops.

word count: -500

♯┆taglist (open) .ᐟ ★ @brenwritesss @bueckersbitch @ekisokay @paige05bby @sierrale8ne @ohmybueckers @pboogerswbb @yailtsv @xxloveralways14 @prettygirl-gabi @mariahthealchemist

ana speaks ᝰ.ᐟ ── i’m actually so excited about this series because i’ve been WAITING for p to finally get drafted so i could write ts lol. anyway this might be one of my top 3 favorite oc’s and i haven’t even written her yet. i hope y’all can love her as much as i do, including her flaws. will i ever stop starting a new series before finishing my old ones? i fear not.

soraya mensima 🐆 🏹 — 07/06/2000. dallas wings. 5’10. small forward—shooting guard. #13. introvert. orange cat. 2021/2022 ncaa champion. sc & stanford alumni. 2023 first overall pick.

paige bueckers 🪐🧸 — 20/10/2001. dallas wings. 6’0. point guard. #5. extrovert. golden retriever. 2025 ncaa champion. uconn alumni. 2025 first overall pick.

Before the cameras, before the contracts, before either of them wore ‘TEXAS’ across their chest— there was college.

And in college, Paige Bueckers was the moment.

UConn’s prodigy. America’s darling. She moved like a storm in motion— beautiful, dangerous, impossible to ignore. She didn’t just play the game; she commanded it. A legacy already written before she’d even laced up.

Soraya Mensima was the one who beat her.

Not just by luck, not in passing— but in the NCAA finals 2022. South Carolina versus UConn. A showdown soaked in sweat and legacy. Soraya dropped 31 points and a final three that broke hearts in Connecticut and carved her name into the record books.

No trash talk. No drama. Just cold, clean execution. A win she carried on her shoulders like it was nothing.

People don’t forget that kind of thing. They remember losses like that. They remember the ones who handed them to you.

And now they’re supposed to share a locker room.

Soraya had been with the Wings for two years already, a storm in her own right—quiet, relentless, deeply respected. Two national titles, two powerhouse programs, one tragic injury her freshman year.

She trained like it was religion. Played like the court was her sanctuary. She didn’t waste words or energy. But when she looked at you, you felt it.

She was gravity in motion.

And Paige? Paige was chaos in sneakers.

Rookie, sure. But never small. She walked in with a grin and a confidence that practically bounced off the walls. She made friends in minutes. Laughed at things no one else heard. Danced during stretches. Sang under her breath. Made herself at home in rooms she’d only just entered and made a game out of charm. She took up space and made people enjoy it.

And she kept orbiting Soraya.

A teasing comment. A stupid joke during stretches. A nickname no one else dared try. Paige didn’t bother hiding it—her fascination was plain as day, wrapped in a grin and charm. Bold enough to make people stare.

But Soraya? She didn’t bite.

She stayed distant. Professional. Sharp and unreadable— especially when Paige was near. Like she knew something was coming and was determined to keep the line from moving.

Still... her eyes lingered. Just a second too long, every now and then. Enough to make Paige wonder. Just long enough to hurt. Because the thing about tension is— it doesn’t just go away.

It just waits for one of them to stop pretending it isn’t there.

‎

‎‎ ‎

playlist ᯓ★ snooze .ᐟ sza. pink matter .ᐟ frank ocean. trouble .ᐟ frank ocean. right here .ᐟ justin bieber. art deco (instrumental) .ᐟ lana del rey. once more to see you .ᐟ mitski. tbh .ᐟ partynextdoor. good days .ᐟ sza. bed chem .ᐟ sabrina carpenter. attention .ᐟ bryson tiller. shameless .ᐟ avenoir. dreams, fairytales, fantasy .ᐟ asap ferg ft. brent faiyaz. we can’t be friends .ᐟ ariana grande. guilty as sin .ᐟ taylor swift. useless .ᐟ omar apollo. heart to heart .ᐟ mac demarco. sure thing .ᐟ miguel. love on the brain .ᐟ rihanna. love me 4 me .ᐟ sza. let me love you .ᐟ ariana grande. jealous .ᐟ nick jonas. all that matters .ᐟ justin bieber. exhale .ᐟ sabrina carpenter. next to you .ᐟ bryson tiller. another life .ᐟ sza.

#⇢ ˗ˏˋ vamptizm writes ࿐ྂ #paige bueckers #uconn wbb #dallas wings #wnba #paige bueckers x female oc #paige bueckers fanfiction #paige bueckers x oc #wnba x oc #paige bueckers fic

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adeepdeepslumber · 3 months ago

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"stay with me, i don't want you to leave." - nagi seishiro

:x a relationship that was doomed from the start.

k. - cigarettes after sex

nagi seishiro never tried. he never tried at anything at all. be it studies, social aspects or even just living productively. all he did was play games, and laze around like there was nothing in the world better to do. despite not trying, he still did well for everything. soccer; he never bothered to make an effort, but managed to be the top scorer and carried his team to win the tournament in his hometown. studies; he never studied, slept in all of his classes. literally ALL. but somehow, he always managed to get the second highest grades in the school, the first being his best friend, reo. nagi never tried, but excelled at everything, that was why he'd expected everything to come his way, without putting an ounce of effort.

which is why he's so confused right now.

you, bold and daring, never one to shy away from confronting someone, stood at him, glaring. nagi thought you were a try hard. he hated try hards. why put in effort in things? he saw no point.

so why was he trying so hard to convince you to stay?

his hand gripped your wrist, holding you back from walking away from him. his white locks fell down his face, almost obstructing his view of you. nagi wanted to keep you in his sight, never to let you leave it. he doesn't know why he's trying so hard. holding onto your wrist like a string that if pulled away, lead the rest of the woven tapestry to fall apart. his orb of eyes stared at you, usually never had a spark, only with you.

a small frown formed on nagi's face, one that never bore any emotion.

"please, stay."

nagi said those words determinedly, without an ounce of boredom, which he would usually mindlessly speak out to have you by his side. this one was full of determination, no random muttering of "hassles" or any sighs, just pure hope and desire for you to stay.

you, on the other hand, stared at him with dismay. you tried to wrench your hand away from his, but no avail, his grip was tight. the face you loved, you still do, but you have to leave.

nagi and you were in a relationship for 3 years, and it was bliss at the start. but within those three years, you'd realized that nagi never tried. how foolish of you, to assume he would change since he'd told you he would. it's common sense that nagi never tried at anything, but you'd never thought it would go to this extent. most of the dates you went with him, wasn't even with him. you'd wait at the entrance of a restaurant, all dolled up, and seat at your specially reserved seat for two. you'd wait and wait, but nagi would never arrive.

frustrated and humiliated, you would sit in your seat looking your best for someone who didn't bother. munching slowly on the food, you would have eaten with him, black tears from ruining your mascara would slowly slide down your cheek. that's not all, unfortunately. when you arrived back home, nagi would be lying down on your shared bed with him, sleeping or playing video games. he'd completely forgotten about the date that you were so excited about. you wanted to convey your frustration to him, at least let him understand how betrayed you felt after that. but nagi always brushed it off, saying mere things such as "oh, i slept in." or "it was kind of a hassle anyway, we can do the date another time." never fully embracing your true emotions.

nagi would notice that you were angry at him, then coax you to forgive him by suddenly caring and being affectionate with you, just completely invalidating the anger you had every right to have. he always expected to get what he wanted without actually having to earn it, and you became a victim of it.

at home, he never cleaned anything, leaving all the work to you. when you came home after an exhausting day at work, you were faced with a messy home and a lazing boyfriend. but somehow, you always forgave nagi, since you couldn't resist his beautiful face staring back at you while he murmured insincere "sorries".

slowly, the feeling in the pit of your soul grew, and eventually you couldn't handle it anymore. you told him you wanted to talk, and you broke the words to him.

"i don't think we can do this anymore."

nagi's eyes finally lifted off his video game, and to you. a tinge of confusion was clear in his eyes, and you could tell he thought you were joking. his face, still void of proper emotion, started make it's way to turn back to his game, but nagi stopped it.

the silence engulfed the room you two once shared loving memories with, now filled with tension and disbelief. the silence made it's answer, and nagi finally looked at you, with pure emotion in his eyes alone.

"are you joking with me?"

his voice, monotoned, but was different from his usual, it had the feel of disbelief and sarcasm, as he didn't believe you were serious.

nagi didn't know what he wanted you to do in that moment, maybe a smile come over your face as you hug him, muttering that it was all a joke. but your face remained serious and stoned, giving no sign of a joke being played out.

your brows were furrowed, and lips were pursed, occasionally twitching to hold back the sadness you wanted to let out. nagi's eyes widened slowly, as he realized, you really weren't joking anymore. he straightened up, his hand making way to yours.

and that's how you found yourself in this situation.

nagi's hand grabbed onto yours, determined to not let you leave without a proper explanation. his usually dazed eyes stared at you attentively, bringing back a light into his eyes.

the face you love stared back at you, and you resist the urge to cup his face and give in to him, tell him that everything is fine, it was all a joke.

but you can't.

you don't want to be trapped in this endless cycle of empty promises and apologies, gaslighting and forgiveness though your heart tells you not to. this has to end.

"nagi, i told you already. i don't think this can work out anymore."

you grab his hand, and pull it away from you. it physically hurts you to say those words, but if you didn't, who will?

nagi lets your words sink in, a pain in his heart as you say it twice. what did he do wrong?

actually, nagi would be lying if he said he had no clue what he did wrong. he knew. he knew that coaxing you with affection would let you forgive him, he knew that he depended on you, but made it seem like you depended on him. he knew about those dates, but always brushed it off, he knew if he'd left the house messy and untidy, you'd feel obliged to clean up after him. he knew that if he gave you just enough love and affection, you'd stay.

nagi knew.

all those little actions that made you feel you had to stay with him and care for him wasn't just because of his laziness. he knew it'll make you stay. he knew he didn't need to try hard, or even try.

so why is he on his knees, begging you to stay?

nagi's knees hit the soft fabric of the rug in the bedroom, holding onto your leg. his face stared at you, what used to be a void of emotion, was now a collage of an uncountable amount of emotions altogether. all of which begged, just begged you to stay.

"stay with me, i don't want you to leave."

nagi's hand was on your thigh, and you face looked down at his. nagi's lips pursed, as if to hold back any emotion from coming out.

"please, stay. i'll change. i promise. i don't know what i did wrong, but i'll change. for you."

still, he played dumb. he'd lied, thinking that it could coax you to stay with him. you weren't dumb though, you'd used to push it off, but not anymore.

"no, nagi. i said it thrice, and i'll say it again. this won't work out."

your voice stood stable, however an audible but faint underlying feel of pity and regret could be heard. nagi's eyes widened like never before, and his mouth parted slowly. it stung to hear it four times, but he was persistent.

slowly, he stood up, holding your face in his hands, towering over you. he clutched your free hand tightly, a seal of his emotions.

"i promise, i'll really change."

this promise wasn't fully hollow, but there was barely any inch of sincerity. continuously, he spouts empty promises, but your mind has set already.

it hurt your heart so much to even tell him that the relationship that was once so full of love had come to this. it hurt you to see him beg on his knees, just for you to stay with him. but you couldn't take it any more.

you pushed him away roughly, his towering shadow over your face stumbled away. it pained you to see him this distressed. but you had to do it.

"nagi. this isn't going to work out."

you pushed your way through his body covering the door, as you made you way out of the bedroom to the entrance of the shared apartment now void of the love you two used to share. you knew nagi did love you, but you hated how he made it seem like he didn't, you hated how he always managed to get you to forgive him just by giving the right amount of love and attention. and you were done with it.

until he blocked the exit you were planning to make with his body once again.

"i'm sorry, i really am. please, give me a chance to change. you know i can't live without you."

then why did he always make it seem like he could live without you? like you were just an object to him.

you couldn't resist the urge, and you cupped his face one last time.

"nagi, i know that. but i gave you many chances to change already. if you can't live without me, then you should have acted like it. not just give me love and affection just so i forgive you, so that i can once again just clean up after you and take care of you."

somehow, you'd managed an apologetic smile, laced with spite, that he should have tried more. if he can try this hard to get you to stay, he should have tried harder to actually love you.

you push him away and open your apartment door.

"nagi, this is it. i'm done. goodbye."

with that, you turned to face him one last time. the face you love loved, stared at you with regret and despair. you managed a weak nod back to him, your face tinted with sadness, as tears slowly flowed down your cheeks, before you turned away and walked out.

nagi found himself back on his knees, staring at the entrance of the apartment where you had just been. his hands grabbed at his face, letting out a low groan.

he should have tried harder.

maybe then this wouldn't have happened.

he'd relied too much on you, and now you were gone.

he'd taken for granted your presence, the lack of warmth next to him already bothering him.

nagi never cried before. the last time he did was due to a big yawn he let out during class. no tears he shed bore any emotion.

so, for the first time in his life, a string of pearly tears full of regret welled up and slid down his cheek.

he begged for you to stay once again.

male manipulator nagi

K.- cigarettes after sex

a/n: i think im going to make a part two of this!!

#bllk x reader #bllk #bluelock headcanons #blue lock x you #blue lock #bllk nagi #nagi seishiro #nagi angst #agnst #bllk angst #bllk x you #bluelock #bluelock x reader #bluelock x you #bluelock nagi #heartbreak #angst

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miyaz6ki · 1 year ago

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──── seven minutes in heaven (or hell.)

𝜗𝜚 synopsis. your friends play a game, and force you to join, and just so happens the bottle lands on you, and you forget you're playing 7 minutes in heaven with them, and the bottle lands on your dear trailblazing friend too.

𝜗𝜚 pairings. dan heng, caelus, sampo, welt, gepard, jing yuan, blade, arg

𝜗𝜚 director's notice. repost of my best work back on my old blog and the very late pt 2.

𝐈. Dan Heng ꒱

really calm outside, freaking out internally inside. the person he likes, in the same room with him? that was something that already made him have a somewhat red tint on his cheeks,

and his fate slowly being determined, and into a closet with you instead. the person who invited you just had to be the one person who knew he liked you- march 7th.

the scolding later on that he'd give wouldn't out match how much he's feeling right now. march outside the closet lowkey cheering for you two though, because she knows you both like each other back, yet, it seemed like you were blind to it, to his obviousness, it was annoying!!

you both were so obvious with liking each other.. ugh just kiss!

kind of awkward, but trust me he's just really nervous. thinking that the person he loves and admires silently is in a closet with him, the idea isn't something he thought would ever happen (in real life at least, he has dreams about you.) more utc.

while he's there, you probably gotta start the conversation. it's definitely hard to try talking while people are waiting for 7 minutes to be over to see what might've happened to you two. besides everyone already knows you both like each other.

probably really soft lips, they smell like peaches or maple, or both. and honestly and quite literally a great kisser. knows where to put his hands, probably cups your cheek while kissing you, pretty long kiss too, like after him confessing to you, will hold the kiss for pretty long, and maybe into a mini makeout session.

when you both are out of the closet or when they open the door, whether or not you guys are still kissing she'll go eww i hope you both already confessed and kissed!! you both will get angry at her later, but it was definitely a push you both needed. so a small scolding and thanking her is better.

𝐈𝐈. Caelus ꒱

such a gentle giant with you, always making sure you're comfortable with him.

if you look at the replies in game when you use him instead of the female mc aka stelle, he's much more gentle with it. and as someone who picked stelle instead of caelus she's way more reckless with responses..

super passionate about it too. kind of shy when the kiss between you two finally happens. it was also march who set you both up by the way, no shame at all she invited you to play while he was beside her.

'c'mon! live a little! plus you could even get to kiss you know who!' march quoted. a real matchmaker honestly.

like i said he's kind of shy, not awkward at all, he's the first to talk, and started to confess. he didn't care if march was on the other side of the door listening to your conversations.

if he wanted to stop being shy around you and stutter, this is what he had to do.

and who knows, you might like him back! march was sure that you did, because you also told her, and the only person whoever knew about you two. holds your hands in his while he confesses.

all he could do was continue and turn red. after he was finished, you initiated the kiss, one that was both passionate, and definitely awaited.

most likely he took so long saying that he liked you that you guys had less than 2 minutes to finally kiss, march opening the closet, to see you to share what looked like a quick peck, when it's only really you two that really knew what happened there.

as caelus took his seat on the floor back down next to march, while you took the seat next to the opposite side of where caelus was, all could do was laugh and congratulate you both, and continuing the game.

every little glance you both shared, with a smile.

𝐈𝐈𝐈. Sampo ꒱

big tease about it. 'haha we're both here together. <3'

he's had his fair share of kisses in the past, but you're his first actual romantic crush, the first to actually catch his attention, march probably didn't know you liked him and didn't mean to put you in there with someone so... eugh!!!

he's such an ick it's undescribable!! - march, but honestly his slyness and attractiveness wasn't the only thing that caught your eye. inside he's a really genuine guy.

teasingly sweet, that's what made your heart flutter. other than a few obvious red flags, he's a real sweetheart.

and it's okay we're colorblind together. at the very start it's already a makeout session inside that closet. probably moans a bit to piss you off. definitely leaves hickeys on you after every little kiss he gave, now that he knows you're his, you know?

overtly possessive of you too and rightfully so. he may look like a player but in the end he's also really new to all and everything romantic.

march opens the closet, pinching her nose, "ew get out of there!! gosh, i hope you didn't do anything bad to them.." brushing dust particles off your shoulders,

looking up and down for any bruises, and spots the hickeys, "ew.. you both really did more than just talking in that closet.."

she took a breath of relief and sat you down next to her, far from sampo, who kept smirking at you, winking even, all you could do was look away, covering the red on your face.

but march gave a disgusted look in return, mouthing the words "stay away from them!"

𝐈𝐕. Welt ꒱

experienced dilf and great kisser, not shy when confessing. cups your face for you to listen to him,

and okay this time is wasn't march even though it was so obvious that you guys liked each other, it was himeko AND march.

ok it was mostly march but himeko helped convince welt, that's a big part. anyways! such a romantic.

total sweetheart with you, wraps his arms around your waist while you place your arms around his neck like a new years' kiss happening.

remembers when it's time to get out anyway, so makes sure it's just you two who know what went down, but one arm still around your waist, to let march and himeko know their plan was a success, he already knew what they were planning,

he just let it play out, honestly didn't think they had a plan so the bottle would really land on you and him. was it.. really just by chance..?

march is over the moon with himeko celebrating you and him finally being together, honestly the people who cheered you both on the most during your dating phase.

i forgot but his kind of kisses are long lasting, patient, and.. i don't really know how to explain this but just super genuinely passionate. honestly you guys probably went more than just 7 minutes... and maybe more in the bedroom? only if you want of course!!

𝐕. Gepard ꒱

has never kissed anyone before, like other than kisses on the cheek, or forehead, he's never done that stuff.

this time the person who set you two up for this was his dear sister, serval.. plus a bit of march, because march would!! serval asked for her help anyway.. new to kisses, and new to relationships / romantic feelings,

so please guide him, so precious when he does confess, it feels like it's scripted almost honestly. but he's really so genuine with it i promise, probably starts as a kiss on your cheek, and escalates from there.

probably a really messy kiss, but just tell him he did great and that you feel the same, sprinkled with i love you and kisses all over his face, you both end up going out the room holding hands <3

march and serval are the happiest people, like parents really, all in all he's really happy you accepted his confession, serval is so happy, even gepard takes you home after the party finishes up, all that cheesy stuff like a kiss before he goes on the doorstep, <33

𝐕𝐈. Jing Yuan ꒱

who invited this hottie to the party though!!!! anyways, he's so calm and sly with it too..

he the type to put your hair behind your ear and whisper how much he loves you, and joking around on how it took you so long to realize it, then his soft lips crash into yours, aa he's such a hopeless romantic the whole moment felt like a dream <3

has kissed a fairly okay amount of people, he probably smells like strawberries and cherry blossoms. or maybe trees, either of those, and his lips are super soft,

and it's like he's always prepared for a kiss, especially when it's from you, and this time no march didn't plan it, more surprised than you are when she sees the dark hickeys scattered on your neck,

lowkey you started smelling like him too... that's at least what professional matchmaker march 7th said!

𝐕𝐈𝐈. Blade ꒱

it's probably kafka who set you both up instead, she knows blade liked you for longer, can't tell if you feel the same, to be frank, and that's impressive because she can usually read people pretty well. but she thought you both were a match made in heaven!

but it took you so long to see his obvious hints, ever since you joined, you really hadn't realized after the asking of what you love, what flowers you like, what's your favorite food, literally throwing the smoothest pickup lines at you ever?

hell i'm not even that blind and i have glasses (i am that blind)

kafka shoves you both into the closet really fast and waits outside in excitement

"oo i hope they're gonna be together now after the 10 millionth hint <333!!! what do you think silver wolf?!"

"what if they end up having sex what then-" cut to the part where he's pinned you to the wall and making out with you really harshly, probably degrades you a bit,

will leave hickeys, and bites your lip when you guys kiss. lots of tongue action, honestly is not shamed at all, is willing to strip you

like legit is chasing for your lips, bro DOES NOT play.

'till kafka opens the closet doors super happy and giddy

"you guys together now or what??" after pulling you both out of the closet, hickeys painted on your skin, blade's face tinted ruby, and eyes glowing red,

"what if you just left them there in the closet, maybe we would've had a kid on board joining us-"

overall um, kafka and silver wolf are happy (and relieved) you guys are together now plss stop being blind.

𝐕𝐈𝐈𝐈. Argenti ꒱

i read a little bit on his wiki that he's described as forthright, and forthright implies straightforwardness, honest, direct, and outspoken. so i think while in the confined space you both, he'll get straight to the point about his feelings, maybe a lil blush here n there.

trust me though, when argenti, a literal knight of the knights of beauty, is in love, he's in love. like he means everything he does for you in the best way possible. oh and his love language is definitely words of affirmation, and acts of service.

type of guy to hold your hands and get real close to your face to say all he has to tell you

and you know how it mentions in his story that he's very loyal to the missing aeon of beauty, i know, i just know as soon as he finds the one, he'll stay with them for a long time, even if its just one sided, because he knows that you were the one, even if you didn't think he was for you, he just knows his heart, and his soul (or at least a big part of him) that he belonged to you

kind of similar for the way he feels about the aeon of beauty iykwim. but he definitely is a loyal man, that's all i'll say. ok back to the 7mih stuff

saw the clip of him getting onto the astral ship thingy so i like to think the trailblaze gang made allies with him and like

ok well just go with it, march knows about his lil thingy for you, even if to others (himeko, dan heng, and welt) it seems like he just cares about you a lot, more than others. march just has a sixth sense for love (especially if its mutual pining, which is both of you)

march definitely put a little bit of metal on the bottle and put a little magnet on the floor to the both of you cause that bottle never landed on both of you at the same time sighhh

anyways, like i said, straightforward, and honest confession, just one kiss in that closet though.

actually even if it was only one, if you accepted your confession, expect to receive more later, and in the bedroom.

oh but march is proud, happier than ever

𝐈𝐗. Luocha ꒱

i have a lot to say about this pretty man, very similar to welt + argenti, experienced dilf, great kisser^3!!

its dan heng + sushang as your matchmakers today!! definitely met you while dan heng was looking for the trailblazing gang, sushang js thought you n luocha were cute tbh

the same as argenti, will love you for an eternity, and will stay loyal even after death and in life now.

why.. how.. who convinced bro to play 7 minutes in heaven with these goofballs (astral gang)

it was sushang and dan heng and march btw!

definitely planned this for it to be on midnight in the last days of december............ corny!! ok but to be fair luocha was pretty set on the plan too, just hoped the bottle would land on you when it landed on him.

first 2 minutes in the closet, silence and awkwardness till he speaks up

the way this man confesses..... SO SWEET MY LITTLE BABY UGH,, not necessarily straight to the point, beats around the bush a little, kind of is just like 'so ive been wanting to tell you something for a bit but idk if i should'

'promise you won't be mad?'

once he actually tells you everything, it's kind of like a word puzzle because he's very poetic, he's been preparing for this moment for more than just a few weeks, credits to sushang

asks to ring his arms around your waist while he's behind you in this dark closet

and then asks if he can kiss you while he does

maybe more than just one kiss was shared in there, but 5 minutes wasn't enough for this poetic man's long ass confession and his plans (to make out w u)

sighh

march and sushang would be jumping like the sheep in my dreams jumping over a fence when the lil smirk on luocha's face when you both get out

lol wait sushang as a sheep

i died while redoing some of these

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hotch33tos22 · 1 year ago

Text

Hitoshi Shinso x reader

“Flavor”

"Is it... blueberry?" Hitoshi muttered, confused with his his half-lidded eyes.

You had bought some flavored chapsticks you pressured him to play the game you had seen in a video with you … to guess the flavour of the balm.

"Wait, mh... cherry? Am I anywhere close?"

"No silly" you chuckled as you applied more chapstick.

"C'mon guess again!"

Hitoshi's lips curled into a small smile at your chuckling, though he still looked deep in thought as he moved a bit closer to you.

"Hmm... I guess I will keep trying until I get it right," he then said, trying to look annoyed yet there was nothing but playfulness in his voice. "Okay then, let's see... mango?"

"Really mango?" Your eyebrow lifted

"I'll give you a hint it's flavored fruit it’s common!"

Hitoshi chuckled quietly as your eyebrow lifted, his indigo eyebrows raising momentarily at the hint. He leaned in even closer to your lips, his eyes now wide open as he studied your lips in intense thinking, as if studying a piece of art.

"Hmm..." He stayed quiet and still for a moment... before finally speaking again.

"Passionfruit?"

"Noo!" You applied more lip balm as he took on your lips a licked them passionately trying to guess again.

Hitoshi closed his eyes as he accepted the kiss, tasting the balm on your lips.As you pulled away once more, he let out a soft chuckle.

"Damn, not even close..." He mumbled as he looked at your lips one more time.

With you putting on more balm, he leaned in again, capturing your lips in another kiss, his mind still in deep thought of what the mysterious flavour could be.

Hitoshi couldn't help biting your bottom lip as he kissed you, trying to get a better grasp of the flavour as his tongue moved across your lips with a strong sense of curiosity. With each kiss and each taste, he became more and more frustrated that he couldn't figure it out.

"Damn it, what is it..." He mumbled against your lips, his hand reaching up to cup your cheek.

"I swear, it better not be like... green apple."

"Hell no!" you giggled as you covered you mouth. His kisses turned you on but you were enjoying this game so much.

Hitoshi pulled back slowly, looking at you with a slightly annoyed expression, a small pout now on his face.

"Then what is it? I've been tasting it for so long and still nada... I swear you're using some kind of trick. It has to be."

He tried to look irritated though it was obvious he was just frustrated about not being correct about the flavour. He leaned in closer once more, looking at your lips with a smirk.

"Come on, give me a hint - one hint."

"No! I already gave you one! Do you give up?" You snickered

"Ugh..."

Hitoshi groaned at your words. He gritted his teeth as he leaned back and away from you slightly, knowing that you'll hold this over his head later if he really did admit defeat. But he was too stubborn to give up just like that.

"No, I'm not giving up that easily," he said as he narrowed his eyes at you.

"I will get that flavour, damnit."

"If you say so!" You applied your chapstick one more time. Hitoshi's eyes instantly locked on to your lips when you applied the balm again, a determined look on his face.

He leaned forward slightly, his hand coming up to gently hold your chin so he could keep your face still.

"Okay... last try." He muttered lowly as he looked intently at your lips, a flicker of curiosity in his eyes.

"Just give me a second to concentrate."

Hitoshi noticed the hitch in your breath and it only fueled him even more. He leaned in again, his finger gently tilting your chin upwards to angle your face before his lips met yours once more. He held the kiss for a few extra seconds, taking his time to taste the lip balm on your lips.

He was clearly trying to memorize the taste and even tried to think back to other times he's tasted it to compare the flavour.

After a few more moments, Hitoshi finally pulled back, keeping his eyes firmly locked on your lips as he tried to get a sense of the flavour. He was silent for a moment, deep in thought before finally speaking up again.

"Damn it, I can't figure it out. It's driving me crazy." He mumbled as his eyes flicked up to yours, a small pout on his lips.

"Just lemme taste it once more."

"It's not free kisses!. it's to guess!" You pounted

Hitoshi let out a deep sigh, knowing that he wouldn't get one more taste unless he got the taste correct.

"Damn it..." He mumbled as he pouted back at you, his eyes narrowing.

"Okay.. one more guess and I swear l'l get it this time."

Hitoshi leaned in again, his hand still on your chin to keep your face still as he once again captured your lips in a kiss.

He tried to focus all his attention on the taste, letting his tongue slide along your lips in an attempt to get a better taste of the lip balm.

His eyes were closed and his mind was working overtime as he tried to guess once again. He could feel his frustration growing by the second, but he knew he couldn't give up now, not after all this time.

After what felt like an eternity, Hitoshi finally pulled back from the kiss, his hand letting go of your chin slowly. He looked up at you with a defeated look in his eyes, silently admitting that he had failed again.

"Damn it... I really am not gonna get it, am I?" He asked, a slight irritation in his voice though it was obvious he was more upset with himself for not being able to guess correctly.

You looked at him with desire as your lips warmed on to his touch

Hitoshi's irritation faded away as soon as he saw the look on your face. He couldn't help but lean closer to you once more, his eyes flickering down to your lips as the desire in him grew.

"I can't believe I'm letting some stupid lip balm stop me," he mumbled, his voice low and hoarse as he brought a hand up to cup your cheek.

"I don't care what the damn flavour is anymore. I just want to taste your lips again..."

Despite his earlier frustration, Hitoshi's mind was now completely focused on you. His touch was gentle as he pulled you closer, his other hand coming up to rest on your hip.

He stared into your eyes for a moment, his own eyes darkened with desire as he leaned in again. This time, his lips were more urgent and needy, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss.

"S-shin" you let out softly as you felt him let go a strand of silava connected yours and his young as you panted from the action

"Hnnn..."

Hitoshi's head was spinning from the intensity of the kiss, his mind consumed by you and your touch. His breath was ragged as he slowly pulled back, breaking the string of saliva between you two.

He took a moment to catch his breath, his eyes half-lidded as he looked at you with a mix of desire and need.

"God... I can't get enough of you," he said hoarsely, his voice strained as his grip on you tightened.

"W-watermelon..." you muttered

Hitoshi's eyes widened slightly as he heard the word "watermelon" come from your lips. He slowly let his hand fall from your cheek as he processed what you said, his brain finally registering your answer.

"Watermelon ..." He repeated quietly, a hint of disbelief in his voice. "So the damn flavour was watermelon the entire damn time?"

You laughed at his response And nodded

Hitoshi let out a deep sigh, shaking his head in disbelief. He had been so focused on trying to figure out the taste of the lip balm that he couldn't even tell it was something as simple as watermelon.

"I can't believe it was that simple the entire time..." He mumbled, a hint of amusement in his voice.

"I was so convinced it was something other than that. I even thought it was mango at one point."

"Yeah I don't know how you got mango"

Hitoshi chuckled at your words, a sheepish smile appearing on his face.

"I dunno either. I was just really desperate to guess the right flavour. I guess my brain went overboard trying to figure it out."

He moved a little closer to you, his eyes still fixed on your lips.

"But it was a good excuse to keep tasting your lips."

Your lips quivered wanting more of him as you trebled by his words. A bright blush appeared in your face. Hitoshi's eyes darkened as he noticed the effect his words had on you. Seeing you grow flushed and trembled because of him only fueled his desire even more.

He leaned in closer, his hand gently caressing your cheek as he whispered in a low and husky voice. "You know I could taste your lips all day and all night long."

"S-shin..." you trembled as he cupped your cheek

"You look so damn gorgeous when you get all flustered like this," he said in a low voice, his thumb tracing your jaw slowly.

"It makes me want to just lose control and do whatever I want to you…”

#bnha #my hero x reader #x reader #smut #18+ mdni #my hero academia #anime smut #hotcheetos22 #hitoshi shinsou #bnha shinso hitoshi #hitoshi shinso x reader #mha hitoshi #mha shinsou #shinsou x reader #mha writing

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