#this is the first time I’ll vocally admit

[kavehayati]

Ppl be like oh injecting whatever drug into my veins or whatnot but for me I’m just injecting Kaveh in my veins

“I need him so bad😆” I need him in my veins 👹 now I’m not sure exactly what that constitutes and what me injecting him in my veins even looks like but I just know it’s something I have to do 😓

[seungkw1]

ring my bell  — ljh

♡ pairing: neighbor!jihoon x afab!reader ♡ theme: smut [18+ mdni] ♡ wc: 7k ♡ warnings: sub!reader, but also subby!jihoon, size kink, praise kink, auralism/ecouteurism, masturbation (m. & f.), oral (m. & f. receiving), unprotected piv sex (do not do this), cum swallowing, creampie, cockwarming, dacryphilia, size kink, hair pulling, gagging, missionary, 69, nipple play/boob worship, multiple orgasms, sex toys, mild alcohol consumption, did i mention size kink, lil fluff at the end ♡ a/n: i abandoned this fic at least five times lmao but then one night at like 2am the brain rot took over and here we are! tysm to @wonwovy for beta reading, @shinysobi for the title suggestion, and @miniseokminnies for help w the photos <3

When you moved into your new condo, you were pretty sure you hit the jackpot. At first, you were a bit suspicious - how could the rent be so low in this part of town, with such a nice building? But for two months after you moved in, you’ve had no problems. Sure, the shower head is a bit leaky sometimes, and you could use a bit more storage space, but overall - no complaints. As an added bonus the unit next to you was vacant - aka, peace and quiet. Perfection. 

That vacancy didn't last forever, though. Two months in, and you found yourself with a new neighbor. You haven't had a chance to properly introduce yourself to him yet, but from the brief glimpses of him you've gotten he seems nice. You suspect he's around your age, a bit quiet, definitely keeps to himself but has been very polite in passing. And while he's not exactly your type, you do admit he is pretty cute. So, nothing wrong with him. 

You did, however, quickly discover two major problems. One, it turns out the walls are paper fucking thin. And two - to make matters worse - his bedroom is apparently right on the other side of yours, sharing a wall. And you can hear everything. 

By the sounds of it, the guy is single. You never hear any other voices, just his - soft moans emanating through the sad excuse for a wall, gradually getting louder, culminating in a symphony of unholy noises. You've never heard a man be so… vocal before. 

At first, you just try to ignore it. Obviously, he's doing nothing wrong - this is simply a consequence of shared living spaces. So you do your best to mind your business. 

Easier said than done. 

A week passes. You still haven't had a chance to actually say hi to your new neighbor, but you already feel like you've become intimately acquainted with him. It feels a bit… wrong. This is very clearly a one-sided situation. You don't even know the guy’s name for fuck’s sake. Yet, each time, a sharp aching sensation forms a pit in your stomach. You find yourself fantasizing about him -  wishing you could be on the other side of the wall, wishing you were the one responsible for the sounds being produced. 

You've gone and fallen for a complete stranger - or at least, the idea of him. Fucking great. 

You just need to actually meet him, you tell yourself. He could be a complete asshole. Or maybe just not your type at all. Once you say hi, you'll get over this silly little fantasy in no time. 

I’ll make sure to run into him tomorrow, you determine. You go to bed, content with your plan. 

Not five minutes after you crawl under the covers, you start to hear faint groans. 

You reach for your airpods, but they're not on your nightstand. You must have left them in the other room. 

It’s fine, you decide. It’ll be over soon enough. 

But tonight, apparently, he is taking his sweet time. 

You stuff your head under the pillows, trying to drown out the sensual sounds, but the moaning persists. Even muffled it’s loud - and it only gets worse as the minutes pass. 

Just when you think he’s about to finish, the sounds cease. Thank god, you think as you roll over, ready to finally get some sleep. 

But a minute later he starts up again. Slowly at first, once again taking his time, increasing his speed at an excruciatingly slow pace. Eventually his breaths grow shorter, his groaning louder. Then, he stops. 

As if he set out to torment you tonight, he begins once more.  

You lay there, eyes closed, unmoving, breathing deeply, trying to ignore the aching between your legs. But it's impossible. 

The third time around, he's clearly very on edge. His moans turn loud, whiny, pathetic. It's probably the hottest thing you've ever heard. 

Don’t do it don't do it don't do it…

As if your arm has gained a mind of its own, your hand slides beneath the fabric of your underwear. You gasp as your fingers slip between your folds - you're fucking wet. 

Your already-throbbing bud pulsates between your fingers. Slowly, you begin to rub your clit. The sensation is immediately overwhelming; the uninhibited cries of pleasure emanating from the other side of the wall are enough to send you over the edge. Just when you think you can't take another moment of this, he cums. And so do you. 

Your free hand clasps over your mouth just in time. You try as hard as you possibly can to stay silent - but you want to scream. You writhe against the sheets to the sound of his release, riding out your orgasm on your fingertips. Muffled cries escape despite your efforts - but are lost amidst the man’s sea of moans. You cum long and hard, savoring every last moment of your high. 

As you start to come down, you sink into your mattress, body spent, mind drifting off. Your neighbor seems to have exhausted himself too - the only sounds carrying through the wall now being that of deep breaths. 

So much for running into him tomorrow. 

You flop over onto your side, shoving the thought away - but you know even if you try, you can't avoid him forever. 

You just pray to god he didn't hear you. 

Of course, after a week without any encounters, you manage to run into him the very next day. 

Upon returning from the grocery store, you head to your building’s elevator. The doors are closing as you approach, so you figure you'll just take the next one - but the occupant holds the door for you. 

“Thank you,” you say cheerfully, but as you step inside your stomach drops. You are face to face with your new neighbor.

“You’re welcome,” he replies, making direct eye contact with you. You want to disappear into the walls, but you maintain your composure. The button for your floor is already lit up, so he presses the close door button. 

“I believe I just moved into the unit next to yours,” he says as you set your heavy bags on the floor. “I've seen you around but haven't had a chance to introduce myself. I’m Jihoon.”

He extends his hand out to you. You instantly regret setting your bags down. 

You smile calmly, hoping he doesn't notice how flustered you are. But as you slide your hand into his, your heart rate rises. It doesn't help that he has really nice hands - large, warm, with fingers long and graceful, and a nice strong grip against your own hand. Your mind flashes back to the events of last night, picturing what those hands were doing…

Stop it. 

“I’m y/n,” you reply with a smile, trying to be as normal as possible. “Nice to meet you.”

You withdraw your hand from his grasp as he lets go - nonchalantly, but with haste. Any longer and your palms would have probably started sweating. 

“So, how are you liking it here so far?” you ask casually. 

“So far so good,” he replies. “I'm honestly surprised that I was able to find anything in this part of town for such a good deal. Nice and quiet here too.”

Quiet. 

You fear your suspicions are correct: he has no idea he's been putting on a nightly show for you. 

The elevator gives a soft ding as it comes to a stop. You reach down to grab your bags as the door opens. 

“Can I help you with that?” 

“Oh, uh… sure.”

He picks up the heavy bags with ease. You could tell that he’s a muscular guy, but up close he looks straight up beefy. It doesn't help that the tight shirt he's wearing hugs all his muscles perfectly, his biceps nearly bursting out of his sleeves. You force yourself to look away before you start fucking drooling. 

He delivers the bags to your front door. He returns them to you with care, making sure you have a firm grip on the handles before letting go. His hand lingers upon yours momentarily - the lightest brush of his fingertips against yours enough for your insides to do a somersault. 

“Thanks again,” you tell him, making the mistake of direct eye contact again. 

“Of course,” Jihoon replies warmly. “See you around.”

You flash him a smile, perhaps a bit too enthusiastically. “Bye!!” you blurt abruptly as you unlock your front door, hurrying inside. You want to turn around, get one more good look at him - but you shut the door behind you. 

Your head spins as you put your groceries away. You're so wrapped up in your imagination that you nearly put the milk in the cabinet. But you can't stop daydreaming about what those muscles look like underneath his shirt. 

You finish up and head into your bedroom. A nice hot shower should clear your mind. Not two seconds after taking off your shirt, you freeze. The familiar sounds from next door have begun yet again. 

You stand there, half horrified, half horny. Surely it's nothing more than coincidence that your neighbor got home and started jacking off minutes after having a conversation with you. He was probably gonna do that anyway, you try to convince yourself. You're just having main character syndrome right now, this has nothing to do with you. 

But your gut is telling you otherwise. 

Mindlessly your fingers drift to your bra clasp, removing the garment. Taking your breast in one hand you stroke your thumb over your nipple, already hard from sudden exposure to the cool air of your room. You let yourself stand there for a minute, listening to Jihoon’s soft moans, imagining you could see him through the wall, slowly stroking his cock in his hands. 

You feel guilty, ashamed, but the aching in your cunt overpowers any sense of remorse. Your hand makes its way into your pants, your fingers gliding through your folds, slipping easily into your soaked pussy. You wince silently, stifling the moans desperately trying to escape you. Slowly, you begin to fuck yourself. You can't help but think about how it would feel if it were Jihoon’s fingers inside you instead. 

You stand there for a couple minutes, your clit throbbing against the motion of your palm - threatening to make you scream and cum. 

You can't let him hear you, you keep telling yourself. But part of you almost wants him to hear you. You picture him getting so turned on hearing your cries of pleasure that he cums instantly, all over himself, making a huge mess that you would love nothing more than to help clean up. 

You feel your climax rapidly approaching. You cease moving your fingers, but let them remain resting inside you. You try to calm yourself down, taking deep breaths to slow your pounding heart, but just as your head starts to clear you hear a sudden swell of orgasmic sounds from through the wall. As if by reflex your hand moves again. Your body tremors at the pressure against your overstimulated clit - you cum in silence, forcing your cries back inside you as . You ride out your high, and so does Jihoon, his moans slowly softening as he comes back down. 

Heart pounding, you slowly remove your fingers from your cunt. Your hand is soaked; you find yourself wishing it was Jihoon's face instead, glistening with your juices after eating you out, making you cum an unreasonable amount of times. 

You sigh. You know this should all feel wrong. But why does it feel so good then?

A strange combination of feelings overtake your body: tingling bliss from your orgasm, guilt from the reason for your orgasm, an overpowering yearning for the touch of essentially an entire stranger. 

You strip the remainder of your clothes off and proceed to take a very long, very hot shower. 

You wake up the next morning stupidly horny.

It didn’t help that you had a dream about Jihoon. In it, you were standing in his bedroom, watching him masturbate to the sight of you. His cries echoing through your subconscious, the pathetic look on this face as he came all over himself - it’s not surprising you woke up to a puddle between your legs.

You pause, listening to see if you can hear your neighbor next door, but you hear nothing. You reach into your nightstand, pulling out your favorite vibrator. The purple device rumbles in your hand as you turn it on. For a vibrator, it’s pretty quiet, but with your stupid thin walls you know it would be perfectly audible from the other side. You think Jihoon isn’t around - surely you would hear him if he were - but even if he is, you truly don’t even care anymore. You position the toy lightly upon your clit - even through the fabric of your underwear, its powerful vibrations instantly feel amazing. A soft groan escapes your lips before you can stop it. Your hips begin to move lightly at the stimulation - the pressure of the vibrator’s end causing your wetness to stick to your panties. You attempt to restrain your moaning, but before long you cease resisting. It feels too good. Your orgasm quickly builds in your gut, making you whimper as you squirm against your pillow, its intensity growing and growing until - you cum. The fire of your release burns through your body, your cries filling the air without abandon. Deep breaths fill your lungs as you come down, soft gasps emanating from your lips as you turn the toy off and toss it aside. 

A series of thunks echo from through the wall, followed by a hushed “shit”.

It sounds like somebody dropping a phone or something, but whatever it is - turns out your neighbor was home after all. Whoops.

In your post-orgasm bliss you begin to drift back to sleep. You don’t know what you’re going to do now next time you run into Jihoon, but that’s a problem for later.

You end up sleeping in far too late. By the time you wake up, you feel groggy and sluggish, so you figure going to the gym will help you feel a little better. You don a soft pink pair of leggings and a light gray sports bra, filling your water bottle and grabbing your airpods on your way out the door. You wait in the hallway for the elevator. It reaches your floor with a ding, its doors sliding open to reveal who other than your next door neighbor. 

Of fucking course.

He appears to be returning from the gym, his tight white t-shirt clinging to his body in a way that practically puts all his muscles on display. His dark hair is damp and sweaty, messy, stray strands of it sticking to his forehead. He looks up to see you standing there, a panicked look instantly filling his eyes. His skin is already flush from exercising, but his ears turn practically crimson at the sight of you. 

“Hi,” you say with a friendly smile.

He freezes, staring at you like a deer caught in the headlights. He quickly tries to shake it off.

“Oh, uh, hey,” he mumbles in an attempted nonchalant tone, but already his cheeks are becoming more flustered. You see his eyes flicker up and down your body - your outfit isn’t terribly revealing, but it’s certainly on the sexier side of athleticwear. He stands there, awkwardly frozen - so long that the elevator door begins to shut again. He grabs hold of it, triggering the motion sensor so it reopens. He starts to shuffle past you, but you decide you’re feeling bold enough to try and engage him in a conversation.

“Just coming back from the gym?” you ask casually.

He stops in the hallway, standing right before you.

“Oh, yeah.”

“Do you also go to the one over on Clark Street?” you question. You won’t hold him up too long - he looks like he wants to perish - but you figure you’ll torment him for another minute or so.  “That’s where I’m headed now.”

“Yeah, I do,” he answers, subtly shifting his gym bag in front of his body. 

“Cool! Maybe we’ll see each other there sometime,” you tell him in a chipper tone. 

“Maybe, yeah. That’d be cool,” he replies, smiling nervously.

You enter the elevator and press the ground floor button.

“Well, see ya around!” you tell him with a wave.

“You too,” he responds, not taking his eyes off you until the elevator door shuts closed.

Three days pass - three days of pure silence from the other side of the wall. 

Now that Jihoon has discovered the truth, he's clearly mortified. You catch a few glimpses of him around the building, but the man practically vanishes at the sight of you. You feel a little bit bad, but you know the ruse could not have lasted forever anyway. 

Unless he somehow knows exactly when you're not home and has been jacking off exclusively then, you haven't heard him pull his dick out at all. And judging by the couple times you've seen him, the man has been incredibly on edge. 

You return home a bit late in the evening after hanging out with some friends. You’ve had a fair bit of wine, so you're feeling a little tipsy, but you're in a pleasantly good mood. You're also decently horny; your mind drifts to your neighbor, conjuring up the image of him returning from the gym, sweaty, muscular, his t-shirt damp and tightly fitted against his sculpted body. 

Not two minutes pass after you step inside before you hear the SLAM of a door from the hallway. Footsteps approach your unit, followed by frantic knocking on your front door. 

You scurry over to the entrance, reaching out to unlock the door, but the pit in your stomach makes you pause. What if he’s mad at you? you start to worry. 

Well, only one way to find out. 

With the click the deadbolt turns. You swing the door open to reveal Jihoon, in a plain white t-shirt and grey fucking sweatpants. 

He stares at you, standing frozen in your doorway. You can see the gears turning in his head, trying to calculate if this is all a mistake. 

After just enough moments of silence for it to be awkward, he clears his throat. 

“Hi, um… May I come in?”

He looks incredibly tense, but the way he's staring at you with such intensity makes your pussy ache. 

“Sure.”

You step aside, gesturing for him to come in. 

He enters. He takes a look around as you shut the door behind him. 

“It's really nice in here,” he comments, attempting to make small talk. 

“Oh, thank you,” you say with a friendly smile. He looks even more nervous now that he's in your apartment. He pauses, nonchalantly observing some of the artwork on your wall, seemingly trying (and failing) to come up with a good segue into whatever he came over here to say. 

“So, um…” he starts, rubbing his hands together anxiously. 

“I just wanted to… uh… well, I figured I should probably let you know…” 

You inch even closer to him as he stumbles over his words; his shoulders tense slightly. He runs one hand through his hair, avoiding your gaze. 

“I guess I just wanted to apologize,” he finally is able to articulate. “I just recently realized that the walls in this building are pretty thin and uh… well I guess I don’t know if I've been loud at all…” 

Blushed redness creeps up his neck as his terrible lying resonates through the room. 

Maybe it's the way he's standing there, doing nothing but stumbling over his words yet looking incredibly sexy, or maybe it's the wine - but you're feeling bold today. 

“Yeah, you have been.”

The pale color of his cheeks suddenly goes even paler, turning his entire face sheet-white as he stands there, horrified. Then, the redness returns with a vengeance. He looks like a very hot, very nervous tomato. 

“I’m so sorry,” he stammers, “I really had no idea-”

“Why are you apologizing?”

He stares at you, confused. 

“Um…”

He waits for you to clarify, but you don't. Seeing him this flustered up close and personal has your panties soaked already, and you want to revel in it. 

He lets out a deep sigh. 

“I just… I know I can be loud sometimes, but from now on I’ll be more conscientious of my… volume. And I just don't want you to think I’m perverted or anything…”

He shakes his head, realizing he's just digging himself a deeper hole at this point. 

“Anyway, I’m really sorry to bother you, I should get going-”

He tries to slip past you, but you throw your arm out in front of him, slamming your palm into the wall of the narrow hallway as you block him from exiting. He freezes, involuntarily holding his breath as panic spreads across his face. 

“What if I like it?”

Your arm brushes against his torso, his chest heaving into you with his quickening breaths. 

“What?” he asks, barely more than a whisper, clearly taken aback by your question. 

“What if I like hearing you?”

His eyes widen. You step even closer into his personal space, your face now mere inches from his. 

“What if I want to hear you making those noises on this side of the wall, in my bed?”

You grasp onto his t-shirt, yanking his body into yours. He lets out a gasp as your tits press into his chest - his mouth is now so close to yours that you feel the exhale against your lips. 

“Would you like that?”

He gazes at you, his eyes darkening with desire. Then - he kisses you. 

It's not a delicate kiss, nor is it sweet. He kisses you as if he intends to devour you, hungrily tugging at your lips as he grasps at your waist fervorously, aching to touch every inch of you. 

His large hands slip underneath your shirt, gripping your sides tight as he caresses your warm skin. Your heart races in your chest, the sounds of rushing blood flooding your ears as you kiss Jihoon, savoring the sweet taste of his lips, basking in the radiant heat of his body against yours. 

“Oh wow,” he mutters into your mouth as his lips depart yours briefly. 

You grasp onto his tshirt, balling the fabric in your fists, pulling him with you as you stumble toward your bedroom together, still kissing him. 

As you step through the doorway, you tug on his shirt, prompting him to remove it. He pauses, contemplating the taste of wine lingering on your lips.

“Are you… drunk?” he asks delicately. “I just want to make sure…”

“A little,” you reply, leaning into him, so close that the vibrations of your soft-spoken words resonate against his lips.

“But I know what I want.”

Jihoon squeezes the flesh of your hips, his grip unrelentless, as if someone was going to take you away from him. A thick bulge beneath his sweatpants presses against you as he holds you tightly against him.

“And what do you want?” he asks in a low voice, staring at you hungrily. “Tell me.”

“First,” you start, pulling at his shirt again. “Get rid of this.”

He yanks his tshirt over his head, tossing it onto the floor. Standing before you now, shirtless, you get a true look at his brawny figure: huge biceps framing his body, thick pectorals protruding from his chest, chiseled abs sculpting his stomach. The man has muscles you didn’t even know existed. You delicately drag your fingertips up and down his torso, admiring him; his cock twitches against you at your touch.

“God you’re so fucking hot,” you mumble as you gaze into his eyes - giving him the most pathetic, needy, seductive look you can muster. 

Redness spreads across his neck and chest. He’s clearly easily flustered (at least, for you), and you plan to take full advantage of this. 

You slip one finger beneath the waistband of his sweatpants, tugging lightly. 

“Now, get rid of these.”

Obediently, he slides his pants down, having to stretch the elastic further to get it over his bulge. Kicking the sweats off, you get a clearer look at what he’s packing. Even through the dark fabric of his underwear, the outline of his hard cock is undeniable - not only long, but thick. Your pussy clenches at the mere sight of his size. 

You can't wait any longer. You run your hand over his clothed cock, feeling its weight in your palm. Jihoon groans, letting out the sweet sound you've until now only heard muffled through the wall. Hearing him now, here, in your bedroom - it's music to your ears. 

Reaching into his underwear, you grip your hand around his girth - he nearly whimpers at the sensation. You give him a few strokes before pulling his cock fully out, causing you to let out an audible gasp. 

Fucking shit.

Jihoon gives you an embarrassed smile, making you realize you said that out loud and not just in your head. But if anything your reaction wasn't even dramatic enough, because his cock is fucking huge. You take him in your fist, slowly pumping up and down; his eyes roll back into his head, letting out a deep sigh as you stroke him. You press your lips into his neck, planting delicate kisses into the soft skin.

“Oh god,” he groans under his breath. 

With his dick twitching in your hand, growing stiff and somehow even longer, you drop to your knees, positioning your face directly beneath the behemoth of a cock. You gaze up at him as you drag your tongue from his base to his tip; he strokes your cheek lightly with the back of his fingers, gazing down at you with a look of equal parts admiration and lust. You swirl your tongue around the head, tasting the precum that has dribbled out. Taking just a tiny bit of his tip between puckered lips, you begin suckling on it, lapping up his juices and teasing him with the bare-minimum stimulation. His low hum swells into a moan as you slowly slide his cock into your mouth, taking as much of his length as possible before you start to choke (Not yet, you think to yourself. Save that for later.)

“Fuck, you look so good right now,” he groans, cupping your cheek in his large hand as you stare up at him with big doe eyes. “So beautiful with my cock in that pretty little mouth of yours.” 

Sharp throbbing pulses between your legs at the slightest of praise. You slide your mouth up and down his length, gradually increasing your pace. His tip hitting the back of your mouth only makes you want more, makes you want to swallow him whole, gag on the entire shaft as his massive size fills your throat. Finally, you can resist no longer - you swallow the rest of him, your lips greeting his base as his full length slides down your throat. Tears instantly begin welling in your eyes, streaming down your cheeks as you bob your head up and down, choking on Jihoon’s cock.

He places one hand upon your hair, grasping it in his fist as you give him the absolute sloppiest head he’s ever received. Grotesque gagging sounds emanate from your throat, but are nearly drowned out by the lewd string of moans coming from Jihoon. He wants nothing more than to watch you choke on his cock, see your tears flowing freely as you stare up at him, eyes longingly transfixed upon each other - but he can’t help but shut his eyes, head falling back at the overwhelming pleasure you’re making him feel. It starts to take over his whole body - his hips reflexively begin thrusting, sinking his length deep into your throat. Before long he pulls you by the hair, wresting you off of him; strings of saliva stretch from his drenched cock to your coated lips, bubbles of spit running down your chin. 

“Sorry, that was going to make me cum way too fast,” he tells you with a sheepish smile. “You’re just so- ohhh…” His sentence is cut off by you placing one of his balls in your mouth, lightly sucking on it before taking the other as well. 

“Fuck that’s hot,” he grumbles, stroking your hair gently. You shift on your knees, trying to sit more comfortably upon the floor; Jihoon notices.

“Come here,” he instructs as he pulls you up off the floor. “I want you to be comfortable.” 

He brings you over to the bed, laying down atop it. You go to resume your place between his legs, but he grabs your arms to stop you.

“You should take these off,” he insists, tugging at your clothes with desperation in his eyes. “Please. I wanna see you.”

You pull your shirt over your head, discarding it to the floor. Slowly you unfasten your pants, sliding them down your hips - a bit timidly, for as horny as you are right now you’re suddenly afflicted with a wave of shyness. But the way Jihoon is looking at you - eyes glazed over with pure lust, licking his lips like he wants to devour you - is driving you utterly crazy. You swiftly remove your bra and panties, standing nude before him as he marvels at the sight of you.

“You’re perfect,” he says, his voice deep and gravelly. Your pussy clenches, attempting to alleviate the powerful aching in your core. Jihoon takes your hand, drawing you into the side of the bed.

“Sit on my face. Please.”

It’s not an order; the way he is looking up at you, squeezing your hand - he’s begging.

“Only if I can suck your cock at the same time,” you say with a cheeky grin. His eyes widen. 

“Would you like that?” you ask coyly, batting your eyelashes at him as you trace circles on his stomach with one fingernail. 

“Y-yeah,” he whimpers, his voice cracking slightly.  

“Good.”

You crawl onto the bed, swinging your legs over Jihoon’s head as you face his painfully erect cock. You situate yourself steadily, lowering your pussy toward his face, until you feel his soft, plush lips against you. Instantly he lets out a loud moan, the vibrations against your soaked core triggering a sharp jolt in your stomach. He wraps his arms around your inner thighs, holding you tight against him, his moans still resonating through the room even with his face buried in your cunt. 

He begins to work his tongue deep into your folds, licking every last bit, lapping up as much of your juices as he possibly can - the rest certainly dripping down his chin. You lean over, reaching for his thick cock one more; you grip the base tight in your fist, stroking the hilt while taking the rest in your mouth, bobbing your head up and down his length. The pathetic noises coming from under your cunt grow even louder - Jihoon begins to squirm underneath you, bucking his hips as he continues eating you out as if the world were ending tomorrow. He latches onto your clit, suckling on the stimulated bud; you cry out, but the sound is garbled amidst your cacophony of unbridled gagging noises. Your eyes flood with tears as your orgasm rapidly approaches - you grind your hips on his face, stimulating your pussy further and further, the burning in your gut swelling and swelling, your legs trembling even in Jihoon’s tight embrace. Your whole body convulses atop of his as you reach your climax. Desperate for air, you pull your head up, your mouth now empty but quickly refilled with cries of pleasure as you cum all over Jihoon’s face. 

“Oh my godddd,” you wail, your mind going blank as every nerve in your body lights up like fireworks. 

“Oh my god, oh fuckkkk, Jihoon…”

The rumbling vibrations of his groaning carry you through an overpowering orgasm; you ride out your high as he sucks on your clit mercilessly while his nose presses into your cunt. You’re seeing stars as you begin to come down, unable to think any coherent thoughts - instead basking in how fucking incredible Jihoon just made you feel. 

You lift your throbbing pussy off his face, giving your poor overstimulated clit a moment to recover. 

“Gonna cum, ‘m so close,” Jihoon moans. You quickly pop his dick back into your mouth, sliding his length in and out, hollowing your cheeks as you suck his cock like your life depends on it. 

“Ahh, ahhhhh, ah fuck-” 

Hot white ropes shoot deep into your throat as he releases. His melodic moans and whining cries form a grand symphony that fills your bedroom - in this moment, you are absolutely certain that you've never heard a more beautiful sound. 

His cock pulsates in your mouth, letting out every last spurt of cum for you to eagerly swallow. As he finishes, you slowly slide his cock out of your mouth - still marveling at the sheer size of it. 

“Oh my god,” he groans softly. You swing your leg over his head, turning yourself around to lay beside him. You wrap your arms around his torso, becoming the big spoon as you nuzzle your face into his neck. 

“Wow,” he proclaims with a deep, satisfied exhale. He lays silently as he recovers, catching his breath and coming back down to earth. Finally, with a sigh, he turns to face you. You raise your head up enough for your noses to meet. 

Jihoon gazes into your eyes, eyelids heavy in his post-orgasmic bliss. He hesitates, bringing his hand up to your cheek and cradling it gently. 

“Can I kiss you?” he finally asks, his voice no more than a soft whisper. 

You nod. He kisses you - this time not hungry and desperate, but slow and saccharine. Your lips lock, laying there entangled in each other’s embrace - his muscular arms hold you tight, enveloping you in the warmth radiating from both of your sweat-covered bodies. As your lips eventually part, you remain snuggled by his side - him playing with your hair while you trace your fingertips over his toned body. Eventually, he takes your chin delicately in his hand, tilting your face up to look at him. 

“I don’t know if fucking your next door neighbor is necessarily a wise thing to do,” he starts. “But that was incredible. You’re incredible.”

You smile. 

“I don't know either,” you chuckle. “But the way you basically broke down my door to come fuck me was really hot.”

Jihoon laughs, his face lighting up with a beaming smile. 

“Yeah, um. I'm not entirely sure what compelled me to do that.”

“I do,” you inform him. “You were thinking with your dick.”

“Okay yeah, you're right,” he admits with a grin. 

He reaches for your hand, interlacing his fingers with yours, squeezing your palm. 

“Would you want to do this again?” 

“Like, right now?” you reply. 

“No I mean like- … well, yes actually,” he answers, his face lighting up with excitement. “But I meant like, in the future.”

You nod, a wide grin spreading across your face. 

“I’d like that.”

“Good,” he smiles. “Me too.”

“But also…”

Your arms grab hold of him, rolling him over on top of you. He tries to shift, to not be placing his whole weight upon you, but you cling to him tightly, holding him in place. You roll your hips, stroking his still half-erect cock with your soaked cunt; you feel it pulse in response, already beginning to harden again. 

“I want you to fuck me,” you speak softly into his ear, continuing to grind your pussy on his cock. His eyes roll back in his head once more. 

“God you're so fucking hot,” he mumbles through gritted teeth. His eyelashes flutter as his eyes open again, peering down at you amorously. 

“Give me just a minute, baby,” he says as he shifts downward, positioning himself directly in front of your boobs. He grabs one with each hand, kneading the soft flesh in his grasp. He licks your nipple, swirling his tongue around the protruding bud, wetting it with his warm mouth before switching to your other breast. He gives them equal attention, licking and sucking on them, back and forth - whichever boob isn't in his mouth, he pinches your hard nipple, squeezing and rolling it between his thumb and forefinger. You press your hips up into his stomach, seeking any relief for your aching clit, but it's not enough. You whimper as he latches on to your left nipple, suckling on it so long you think you might cum again just from this. You feel the bed move beneath you as he grinds his cock against the sheets, thrusting into the mattress, seeking relief for his returned erection. 

He lifts his head up, releasing his latch on your breast with a wet-sounding pop. His eyes stay fixed on you as he shifts further down the bed, resting comfortably between your legs as his lips hover above your cunt. 

“Is this okay?” he checks before placing his mouth on you. You nod earnestly, brushing your fingers through his damp, messy hair. His tongue locates your entrance, slipping into your pussy, his nose brushing up against your clit, still highly sensitive from your first orgasm. You moan as his tongue glides through your folds, his face becoming soaked once again in your juices. He flickers over your clit, the warmth and wetness of his tongue quickly sending you over the edge. Your body writhes beneath him as you cum a second time, crying out with even greater pleasure than the first. It's almost overbearing, but you relish in it, delicious waves of bliss pulsating throughout your whole being. His tongue slows, licking you softly as you lay there, unable to move for a few good minutes, basking in the aftermath of your orgasm. Your fist slowly unclenches, releasing the grip you didn't realize you had on his tousled locks. 

“Damn,” you mumble, a big goofy grin spreading across your face. Jihoon crawls back up toward you, kissing you with lips drenched in your own cum. His cock, fully hard once more, brushes against your cunt. Although you're still trying to catch your breath, you place your entrance against his tip to taunt him. 

“Please fuck me,” you beg, desperate to feel him inside you. 

He pushes his cockhead into your pussy, letting out a moan as he feels your warmth. Your walls tighten as he slides the rest of his length in, fully enveloping his cock - he whines, loudly, letting the delicious sensation overtake him. He rests for a moment inside you, fearing to move as he feels the urge to cum already. But he’s too aroused to resist for much longer - slowly he begins to pump into you, deep thrusts stretching you out, filling you up like you've never felt before. He’s almost too big, but you love it. Tears well in your eyes again as he fucks you -  slow and tender at first, but gradually increasing his pace, soon pounding into you with powerful force. The stretch is overwhelming, but his long strokes and perfect tempo have you screaming his name, voluminous cries filling the air as he fucks you like you’ve never been fucked before. 

“You’re taking me so well baby,” he praises, his voice low and breathy. “So pretty…”

His voice trails off. High-pitched grunts and groans escape him as his body begins to stiffen, another climax rapidly on its way. He drives his cock into you, your perfect pussy squeezing him so tight that he can't think straight. 

“Y/n…” he cries. “Fuck, y/n I'm cumming…”

With several powerful thrusts he releases deep inside you, warm cum filling you up until you're completely full - so full that it begins to leak out of you, coating his cock and dripping all over the sheets. He finishes, laying frozen on top of you, heaving breaths echoing in your ear as he sinks his face into the crook of your neck. His cock rests inside you still, twitching occasionally against your walls. His breathing becomes so steady that you start to think he’s fallen asleep - but eventually he lifts his head, resting his temple on his fist as he takes in the sight of you, so pretty and fucked out beneath him. A lazy smile appears on his face as he stares at you, his pink cheeks glowing in his post-orgasm state. He looks so good that you involuntarily let out a little giggle. 

“What?” he asks, his grin growing wider. 

“You're just really hot, that's all.”

His face somehow turns even rosier. He lets out an embarrassed tsk as he tries to hide his face in his hands. 

“What? You are!!” you proclaim, pulling his hands away so you can see him again. 

“Sorry,” he replies timidly. “I’m not good with compliments.”

“You'll get used to it,” you say matter-of-factly. He raises an eyebrow at you. 

“You say that like this is going to be a regular thing now,” he retorts, trying to keep a straight face - but the corners of his mouth twitch upward, revealing the grin he's trying to hold back. 

“Do you want it to be?” you ask. 

Unable to hide his smile any longer, he nods. 

“I’d like that.”

Slowly, he pulls his spent cock out of you, making you whine at the empty sensation as even more of his cum spills out of you. 

“Wait here,” he says, giving you a soft kiss on your cheek as he rises from the bed. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

[illusioncanthurtme--art]

A very self indulgent Billford playlist!

Self indulgent, because this music does not appeal to the masses at all; these songs are limited to the stuff I listen to. So I’m being VERY transparent about my embarrassing taste in music right now! Plus, NOBODY ASKED FOR THIS!!! But I hope some of these resonate with you. This is a little collection I’ve formed in my phone notes since I got into this ship a couple weeks ago.

Not a fancy spotify playlist, it’s just links to the music on youtube. 

I’ve got this divided into parts:

-The Billford Songs

-The In This Moment Billford Songs

SO MUCH of their music is enemies/lovers perfection. I’ve thought about so many *killing you but also making out with you* pairings to this shit, because these songs were like, DESIGNED to be recycled for any and all love hate relationships, and still hit insanely hard EVERY TIME. So now that you have these songs under your belt, you have them FOREVER. You’re welcome. I haven’t even listened to all their music, I’m sure there’s more songs for this category that I simply haven’t discovered.

-The…Maybe…Billford Songs

My standards were kinda high for making this list. But every song is about your ship when you’re insane, right??? So these are the maybe’s. One’s I’ve thought about billford to, but maybe the lyrics don’t totally align.

Playlist under the cut! I wasn’t gonna ramble about each song but WHOOPS I DID 🤷‍♀️

The Billford songs:

Monophobia - Deadmau5 (Extended version, cuz it’s the best.)

THE LYRICS… THE LYRICS!!!! Definitely bill pining in theraprism. 

Propane Nightmares - Pendulum

This one WAS gonna go in the maybe’s, but I convinced myself otherwise after listening to it eighty more times, and now it’s up here on top. And fuck it, this is the *self indulgent* billford playlist, so I do what I want. I go into a fucking trance when I listen to this song, so I can’t really explain 110% why this is a billford song to me, but I’ll try.  Apparently, this song is about the heavens gate cult. So not enemies/lovers angst. But looking at the lyrics, you could interpret it as giving yourself to something greater, and coming to the realization that what you pledged yourself to is actually a very bad thing which will ultimately destroy you. (also, you can’t deny that there was some cult like manipulation happening with Bill and Ford. Sense of purpose and friendship.) Definitely billford-y when you consider Fords commitment to bill. And I’ll admit, when I listen to it, there is some pov switching. Because the “trail of fire”,  “we will be as one”, and “bring it on home” is VERY reminiscent of bill executing weirdmageddon. So overall, my interpretation of this song is Ford feeling torn about bill, feeling regret, feeling scared, and Bill of course, just wanting to bring the dimensions together. “BRING IT ON HOME!!!!”  Or I just like the song. 

Rule 34 - Fish in a Birdcage

Bestie recommended this song to me. It needs no explanation.

Painkiller - The Queenstons

…NEEDS NO EXPLANATION DSKFDSKJHF It’s similar to the above, just more… scary imo. Violent. Definitely bill being a little psycho. I really love this song. It’s very recyclable too. You have it for any toxic ship now. 

9V - The Queenstons

One of my favorite Lapfox/Halley Labs songs… I’m gonna give you the lyrics, it’s a bit hard to understand without them. In my eyes, it’s about betraying Ford. Also these vocals (and other music by this artist) works so well for bill because of the synthesized voice. 

LoveBOMB - S3RL

This is a new S3RL song. This song sounds like a tantrum, and I really liked it when I first heard it, but it didn't fit anything I was into at the time. Luckily, bill suffered a horrible breakup, and now this song has it’s meaning. 

When I'm There - S3RL

Bill thinking about joining the third dimension with Ford. 

Click Bait - S3RL

I’ve listened to this one a LOT before this, and I surprised myself with how much it aligns with bill, specifically, him tricking Ford.

Space-Time - S3RL

Speaks for itself.

Sodom & Gomorrah - Dorian Electra

This one’s just funny :)

The In This Moment Billford Songs

Sick Like Me

Sexual Hallucination

This is one of those recyclable songs, but I was damn surprised at how well the lyrics suited them, because it alludes to being out of body, possession, etc.

Blood

Half God half devil

Roots

Whore

Damn it, I cant deny this one suits them.

Big Bad Wolf

DAMN IT I wasn’t gonna include this one, but I just checked the lyrics and fuck, it works. In this moment, how are you so wonderful

The…Maybe…Billford Songs

Illuminaughty - Infected Mushroom

I'm kind of grasping at straws with these lyrics, but with a title like that? Come on

The Pretender - Foo Fighters, Infected Mushroom, Turbo Remix

Three versions, for whichever suits your fancy.

Leopold - Infected Mushroom

This one has NO LYRICS, but it has this buildup that sounds really cool, and it has an abrupt decrescendo. Reminds me of their "friendship" and how it all came crashing down.

Idolize - Dorian Electra

Hmmmmm, I just like Dorian. But the idolization thing works for obvious reasons.

That’s it! Hope you enjoy. Maybe I'll do an expansion pack of sorts if I find enough songs for a part 2.

[vxlvted]

are they a sub, dom, or switch?

synopsis: basically just the title. are they more of a sub, dom, or a switch, and then what they’d be like.

tags: afab!reader, i actually don’t know what to tag here ..

a/n: ngl, some of this I would wake up, write, than fall asleep again with my phone in hand and repeat. I tried to go over and revise some stuff i wrote while half sleep last night, but I apologize if a bit of it is incoherent 😭 also lowkey is kinda biased but hey 🤷‍♀️ there’s plenty of these kinda posts to read if you don’t like mine

BANG CHAN - Switch (heavily leaning dom)

I know everyone loves to say Chan is this like hard daddy dom, but I don’t think he’d be that rough with you unless you asked for it. it probably took lots of convincing to get him to agree to be a bit rough with you at times. He does naturally take on a more dominate role because of his personality though, he thrives on taking care of you and making you feel safe, so it’s second nature for him to instinctively take the lead during sex.

he’s observant and learns what you like so he knows how to make you fall apart. he’ll brush his lips across your skin, and his voice would drop. fingers trailing lightly down your spine as he whispers “You can take more, yeah?” while your legs tremble beneath you.

But I also don’t think he’s fully dom through and through. Chan wouldn’t like to be in control all of the time. As the leader, he carries a lot of stress and pressure so there are times when he’s just feeling drained. both mentally and physically.

And one of the ways he can just let those thoughts go and unwind is during sex, but sometimes he’s too tired or burnt out to take the lead and that’s when he’ll quietly slip into a more submissive role, he probably won’t say it at first, but you can definitely tell by the way he gets even more clingier than normal.

LEE KNOW - Dom (Very hard to crack into his sub side)

I feel like this is kinda obvious, I definitely believe that Minho is naturally a dom. He teases you a lot, one thing he prides himself on is keeping eye contact. That gaze and his smirk? He loves just watching your reactions and smirking when you squirm.

I think he could lean into being a sub if he feels comfortable with you trusts you enough to give you control. but good luck getting him to that point.. you’ll have to practically pry the confession out of him yourself, he’ll never admit it otherwise.

he wouldn’t raise his voice or rush, everything he does seems like it’s deliberate and calculated. he’d drags things out until you’re practically crying from need and he would just coo and look at you with a look of mock pity. “you’re shaking already? we haven’t even started.” probably into subtle power play, having you kneel or call him “sir”.

Lee know would only give up control if he really trusted you. so if you manage to get him to sub, it’s a big achievement. he’d be the quiet, breathless type. I don’t think he’d be that talkative, but he may be vocal, mainly low whimpers, shaky breathing and biting his lip to conceal the sounds he thinks are embarrassing.

he’d lowkey try and test your patience by squirming or spitting out things about how you’re “not as tough as he thought.” he’s a brat. he wants you to put him in his place, fuck him hard enough that he can’t utter anything other than broken moans (whether it’s your riding him or using a strap on). and he’s super reactive. if you run your hands down his back (or his thighs, he reacts strongly to you running your nails down his inner thighs) his entire body’ll shudder.

CHANGBIN - Dom

Changbin is assertive, he’s gives off that “i’ll take care of you” energy but there a rough edge to it. He definitely enjoy guiding you and taking control. he’s a firm but gentle dom, he’ll absolutely wreck you—but make sure you’re comfortable and give you never ending praises you while doing it.

he would not let you rush him, he’d make you wait for it, holding you right at the edge until your begging him to let you finish. he’d watch you with lidded eyes and that slight smirk as you squirm. he’ll only give you what you want when you ask him exactly how he wants.

he’s strong and he knows it, picking you up effortlessly, pinning your hands above your head. he probably likes manhandling you, I mean he doesn’t have those arms for no reason. grabbing your chin to make you look at him as he whispers to you. y’know that deep/raspy voice he does sometimes when he raps. that one.

he’s not possessive, but definitely has a thing for you saying his name. idk man, those clips of him and his smirk when people chant his name on stage do smth to me. “say it louder.” “who’s making you feel this good.”

HYUNJIN - Switch

Hyunjin is absolutely a switch, He can definitely take control when the mood is right, but he enjoys being taken care of as well. I know every says this but it’s true, hyunjin is a romantic guy. he definitely likes sex to more romantic and slow most of the time. he does like to tease you a bit though, but he gives in the minute you start to beg.

he’d definitely be a whiny sub when he’s overstimulated, breathless and clutching onto you. breathless gasps, soft moans, shaky sighs. his voice would crack when you push him too far. (when he still had his long hair) he’d love when you’d tug at his hair, or scratch your nails down his back. he’d bit his lip and throw his head back to keep from being too loud (and he fails miserably, you can only hope your alone in the house, wherever you are)

when he’s in dom mode, it’s all about eye contact he’d make you look pretty and ruin you slowly. “Why are you hiding your face? Let me see you,” he knows how much you love his hands and he loves using them. running them down your sides, pressing his thumb into your bottom lip, or rubbing his thumb on your clit while fingering you.

(I know this isn’t something everyone is totally into, and honestly i’m not that into it either but I can’t get the idea of hyunjin having a foot fetish out my head 😭 idk why but i feel like that’s so him..)

sex with him would be rooted in making you feel good. rooted in making you feel adored. ruining you, but worshipping you. he’d probably cry a bit if it feels too intense—but intense in the best way possible.

HAN - Sub (can dom when he’s feeling confident)

idk what it is but to me Han just screams like “tease me until I can’t breathe”. definitely into things like light biting and being restrained. he’s very squirmy and reactive, arching his back, clutching onto you, completely helpless.

Loves being both praised and degraded when you’re on top, absolutely melts. Very vocal in bed — whining, moaning, gasping, he does it all. no holding back with him.

He’s naturally needy and (as Seungmin said in that one interview) he craves attention, so subbing is his default. But he can switch things up and surprise you sometimes.

It’s hard to tell when he’s gonna switch things up on you. You’ll think you’re gonna be the one in control tonight but next thing you know he has you flipped on your back, hands pinned above your head. He’ll give you a cheeky grin and tease until you decide to take over again. ghosting his lips over yours, not giving you what you want.

He wouldn’t be rough, but he’s teasing would drive you insane. “Use your words, baby. You can’t expect me to guess.” But eye contact his is weakness, hold eye contact with him and he’ll crumble in less than 10 seconds.

FELIX - Switch (leaning sub)

Felix’s whole vibe is being soft so it’s makes sense that he’s a sub. However, we’ve seen countless times that he is also a little gremlin, he’s a flirt and a tease and he’s good at it, so if he decides he wants to take control, he can and he does. and it catches you completely off guard every single time.

he loves to be loved, to be taken care of. he’d melt into your touch and nuzzle into your neck, letting out soft whines. he’d hate to be in any position that wouldn’t allow him to hold you properly, he loves to wrap his arms around you and pull you close against him. holding you tight as if he can’t breathe unless you’re skin on skin. he groans and moans a lot, his voice going from his regular deep to a surprisingly high pitched tone, voice cracking and trembling with each word.

when he does take control, it’d be a complete 180 from before. you’d know he means trouble the moment you catch that dark glint in his eyes. he’d be commanding but still gentle. his hands wouldn’t be too rough on you, but you’ll still feel like your completely at his mercy.

he’d take his time, drawing out your pleasure just to watch you tremble. also loves to make lots of eye contact (I mean we all saw that risabae video right?) and just smiles each time you try to squirm away from him.

SEUNGMIN - Dom

I know everyone believes Seungmin is like a hard, rough dom I don’t really think he’ll ever get like, completely aggressive. definitely very teasing and a strong dom but not so much aggressive. (or maybe it’s just me bcs i’m saying everyone is soft LMAO i’m sorry 😭) I think he’s very very calculated in the things he does, making you feel good while also making you loathe him for the endless teasing.

like I said, he wouldn’t raise his voice or get aggressive. his dominance would come through in how he stays calm and controlled while your absolutely losing it underneath him. he’s very handsy. he’ll say “Look at me.” and you’ll be so helpless to do anything but listen to him.

he’d love cupping your face, brushing his thumb over your bottom lip. he’ll slowly break down your defenses. he knows exactly how to toy with your patience, keeping things slow and steady while hitting just the right spot just to slow down the second your about to cum. he’ll make sure your well taken care of in between teasing. A soft stroke of his hand down your cheek, “You’re so good for me,”

his type of dominance is often silent. his gaze alone can make you feel the weight of control before you have even made it to the bedroom and he loves watching you melt under his stare.

I.N. - Dom

Jeongin’s whole thing is quiet confidence. he acts innocent in public, but only you know the complete personality switch he has once you make it to the privacy of your bedroom.

he’ll probably start off teasingly but once you start begging he’d switch gears fast. he’s actually pretty intense, he loves seeing how far he can push you. he’ll hold down you hands and press his hands to your throat (lightly so he doesn’t hurt you) and grins when you gasp. he’ll hold you there and move slowly until you finally beg for him to do something, then he’d lean in and whisper “That’s what I wanted to hear.” he’d laugh softly when you whimper but his eyes would stay focused the entire time.

he’s focused. his quiet, deep voice commanding your attention. he can turn all his teasing into something more intense, gradually building it up until he has you exactly where he wants you.

once he knows that you are into it, he can’t help but watch in awe. he loves the feeling of knowing that he’s the one making you feel this good, that he’s the one making you lose your cool. “That’s it.. look at you.. so desperate for me.”

He’s good with his hands. I know everyone says it but he has to be. There’s no way he has hands like that, that he knows you love, and doesn’t abuse his power with them. he’ll drag his hands up and down your thighs teasingly while pressing kissing to your waist, just inches away from where you want him. he’s also insanely good with his tongue. I mean…. there’s no way he isn’t. you get the best of both words.

Taglist

If you’d like to be put on (or taken off) the taglist, feel free to let me know

@yaorzu-blog | @pixie-felix | @compersian | @tshyn | @kittenchaos2024

dividers from @/saradika-graphics

[isak-dot-gov]

The Story of Tonight

Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Theatre Kid!Reader

Word count: 1175

Summary: When you land the lead role of Eliza in Hamilton, you excitedly tell her girlfriend, Paige, expecting support. Instead, she dismisses it as “just a college play”.

Your hands trembled as you refreshed your email for the hundredth time that day. Rehearsing your audition piece had been nerve-wracking enough, but waiting for the results? That was pure agony.

When your phone finally dinged with a new message, your breath caught in your throat.

"Dear [Y/N], congratulations! You have been cast as Eliza Hamilton in our upcoming production of Hamilton!"

For a moment, you just stared at the words, hardly believing them. Then, excitement exploded in your chest, and a loud squeal escaped your lips. You got it. You actually got the lead role!

There was only one person you wanted to tell first.

You practically sprinted across campus, ignoring the odd looks from passing students as you made your way to the gym. The familiar sound of sneakers squeaking against hardwood and basketballs bouncing filled the air as you stepped inside.

Paige was on the court, casually sinking three-pointers while talking with Ice and Nika. You grinned, bouncing on your feet, waiting for her to notice you.

“Paige!” you called, barely able to contain your excitement.

She turned at the sound of your voice, a lazy smile forming. “Hey, babe.”

“I got the role!” you practically shouted, unable to hold it in any longer. “I’m playing Eliza in Hamilton!”

Paige nodded, tossing the basketball back to Ice before looking at you again. “Oh, nice. That’s cool.”

You blinked, waiting for more.

That was it?

“Cool?” you echoed, your excitement faltering slightly.

“Yeah,” Paige shrugged. “I mean, I figured you’d get it. You’re always singing those songs anyway.”

Your heart sank. You had expected her to be excited, maybe even lift you up in celebration like she did after a big win. But instead, she just… dismissed it.

“I thought you’d be more excited,” you admitted, forcing a small laugh.

“I am happy for you,” Paige said, pecking your cheek before picking up the ball again. “But it’s just a college play, right? I don’t really get why it’s such a big deal.”

You froze.

Just a college play?

This wasn’t just some hobby you did for fun. Theatre was your passion. You had worked so hard for this moment, and Paige just brushed it off like it was nothing.

Your stomach twisted uncomfortably, but you didn’t want to start a fight in front of her teammates.

“Right,” you muttered, forcing a small smile. “Just a play.”

Paige didn’t even notice the way your shoulders slumped as you turned and walked away.

For the next few weeks, you poured your heart into rehearsals. You learned the choreography, memorized every line, and perfected your vocals until your throat was sore. Every single day, you gave everything you had to this performance.

At first, you still tried to tell Paige about it.

You’d excitedly recount your progress, talk about the incredible energy of the cast, or hum a new harmony you’d learned. But Paige always responded with the same half-hearted nods, sometimes distracted by her phone, other times stretching out after practice.

Eventually, you stopped bringing it up.

Then, one evening, after another long rehearsal, you sat beside her on the couch, cautiously bringing up the upcoming performances.

“So… opening night is next Friday,” you started. “I was wondering if you could come?”

Paige barely looked up from her phone. “I don’t think I can. I’ve got practice.”

Your heart clenched. “Your practices are in the morning. The shows are at night.”

“Yeah, but I’ll probably be too tired,” she replied with a shrug. “I’ll try to catch them if I can.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat, nodding stiffly.

“Yeah. Sure.”

Paige didn’t even notice how hurt you were.

Closing night arrived quicker than you expected. You should have been excited—this was your moment, the culmination of weeks of hard work.

But there was a weight in your chest.

Paige had missed every performance so far. She hadn’t even asked how things were going. Part of you had held onto the slim hope that she’d surprise you, show up one night and tell you she was proud of you.

But deep down, you knew she wouldn’t.

What you didn’t know was that Jana, Azzi, and Caroline had been working behind the scenes.

They had managed to secure tickets for the entire UConn women’s basketball team, determined to show up and support you—even if Paige wouldn’t.

“You actually got everyone to come?” Ice asked as they filed into the theater.

Jana grinned. “Damn right I did.”

Everyone was buzzing with excitement—except Paige. She crossed her arms, looking unimpressed.

“I still don’t get why this is such a big deal,” Paige muttered.

Jana turned to her, exasperated. “Are you serious right now?”

Azzi shook her head. “Paige, she’s your girlfriend. This is important to her.”

“She’s always at your games, cheering you on,” Caroline added. “Why can’t you do the same for her?”

Paige opened her mouth to argue but stopped.

They were right.

She had been so wrapped up in her own world that she hadn’t considered how much this meant to you. But still, she didn’t really understand—at least, not until the lights dimmed and the curtain rose.

Then she saw you step onto the stage.

For the first time, she watched you in your element—completely at home under the spotlight.

And when you sang Burn, voice thick with raw emotion, Paige felt something tighten in her chest.

She had never seen you like this before.

She had never realized just how talented you were.

And worst of all, she had never realized how much she had hurt you by not being there.

After the show, you stepped into the lobby, still buzzing with adrenaline.

The last thing you expected was to see the entire UConn women’s basketball team standing there, grinning at you.

Your eyes widened. “What—?”

Jana smirked. “Surprise, superstar.”

Your heart swelled, a mix of shock and happiness flooding through you. But then your gaze landed on Paige, standing slightly behind the group, looking guilty.

Paige stepped forward hesitantly. “Hey.”

You swallowed. “Hey.”

“You were…” Paige hesitated, then exhaled. “Incredible.”

You blinked, caught off guard.

Paige ran a hand through her hair, her voice softer now. “I was an idiot. I should’ve been there from the beginning. I should’ve supported you the way you support me. I’m so sorry, baby.”

You bit your lip, the hurt still lingering.

“I just didn’t get it before,” Paige continued, her eyes pleading. “But watching you up there tonight… I get it now. This is a big deal. And you were amazing.”

A small smile tugged at your lips. “You really think so?”

Paige nodded. “Yeah. And I promise, from now on, I’ll be your biggest fan.”

You sighed, finally letting go of the resentment you had been holding onto. “You better be.”

Paige grinned, wrapping her arms around you. The team erupted into cheers, and you couldn’t help but laugh.

Maybe Paige had been late to the party, but at least she had finally arrived.

And that was all that mattered.

[kitty384]

In His Arms, Everything's Safe

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: You come home to the quietest, most beautiful moment: Bucky slow-dancing with your baby daughter in the kitchen, reminding you that in his arms, everything really is safe.

Warnings: Fluff, domestic softness, parenthood, tears of the happy variety, gentle vintage vibes

The house is quiet.

That’s the first thing I notice when I step inside—no crying, no cartoons, no clattering dishes or tiny sock-covered feet sprinting across the hardwood.

Just soft music.

Something familiar. Old. Grainy vocals and piano gently slipping through the air like the house itself is humming.

I set the grocery bag down quietly on the counter.

And then I hear it:

Bucky’s voice. Low. Gentle. Humming along.

Curious, I peek around the corner into the kitchen.

And that’s when I see them.

Bucky’s barefoot, wearing sweats and an old white T-shirt that clings just a little too well to his back. His hair’s pulled half-up, messy, and he’s got our daughter tucked against his chest—her head resting under his chin, her tiny hand fisted in the collar of his shirt.

And he’s dancing.

Slowly. Carefully. Just rocking her back and forth in time with the music, feet gliding over the tile like he’s done this a thousand times before.

The record playing is old—real vinyl, one of Steve’s gifts from a few birthdays back.

The Andrews Sisters are singing softly through the speakers, something about dreams and moonlight and missing someone.

And Bucky?

He’s smiling.

Not his usual smirk.

Not the grin he wears when she babbles nonsense or throws mashed peas.

But something quiet. Full. Like this moment—right here—is something sacred.

And he doesn’t know I’m watching.

I don’t move.

I just… stand there, frozen, hand pressed to my heart, watching the two of them.

Our little girl is bundled in her favorite yellow onesie, blinking sleepily against his chest, soothed completely by his voice and warmth.

And Bucky—my Bucky—looks completely at peace.

Like nothing outside this kitchen exists.

Like this is the only world he needs.

He spins once, slow and careful, making sure to keep her tucked close.

Then he says, soft and almost shy, “You’re a good dancer, sweetheart. You get that from your mom.”

She lets out a sleepy coo.

And he chuckles. “Yeah, I agree. She’s the prettiest thing I ever saw.”

Tears sting my eyes.

Because he means it.

He always does.

After another verse, he finally catches me watching.

He blinks—then smiles wider, cheeks flushed just slightly. “Hey.”

“Hi,” I whisper.

“She fell asleep on me again,” he says, like an apology. “I didn’t want to put her down yet.”

“You better not,” I murmur. “You’re the only person who can get her to nap past thirty minutes.”

He shifts her just a little, kissing her forehead. “She likes the music.”

“She likes you.”

His eyes flick to mine. “You like me?”

I cross the floor to him. “I love you.”

I press a kiss to his cheek, then rest my hand over hers on our daughter’s back.

“She gets this from you,” I whisper. “The way she melts in your arms. The peace.”

He shakes his head slowly. “I think she’s just smart.”

“Smart enough to know she’s safe.”

That makes him pause.

His eyes glimmer.

And then he leans down and kisses me, soft and sweet, like he has nowhere else to be.

We stand there for a long time—him rocking, me holding onto both of them, the music playing gently in the background.

Our daughter breathes steadily between us, hand still curled in her dad’s shirt.

And for the first time in days—maybe weeks—I don’t feel tired.

I just feel home.

Later, Bucky tells me he used to dance like that in the ‘40s.

In the kitchen. With his little sister Becca. With his ma.

“I thought I’d forgotten how,” he admits, voice soft in the dark as we lay in bed. “But when I held her, it just came back.”

I smile and kiss his shoulder.

“You didn’t forget,” I whisper. “You just didn’t know you’d need it again.”

And when I wake up to music playing again the next morning—I already know where I’ll find him.

Masterlist

Request

[lisasmuts]

CHEATING ON YOU

Lisa x Male reader

7k words.

The debt series.

( The first two weeks with yn )

Her expression falls slightly, a flicker of disappointment crossing her features as she clutches the bouquet closer to her chest. She bites her lower lip, clearly torn between her professional obligations and wanting to spend time with Eli. With a soft sigh, she reaches out to touch Eli’s cheek gently.

“I’m so sorry, baby. I really wanted to spend tonight with you after being apart for so long, but…” she glances toward the hallway leading to the studios “I have to finish recording some vocals for the new album. The producer is only available tonight, and we’re on such a tight deadline.” Her eyes suddenly brighten with an idea, and a mischievous smile plays across her lips. “But wait! Why don’t you come with me to the studio? Nobody else will be there except my producer, and I can show you what I’ve been working on! It’ll be our little secret.”

Lisa takes his hand excitedly, her slender fingers intertwining with his as she begins leading him through the sleek, modern hallways of the LLOUD building. The click of her heel echoes against the polished floors as she occasionally glances back at him with that radiant smile that made millions fall in love with her. As he walks, she leans in closer, her voice dropping to a whisper against his ear, her warm breath sending a subtle shiver down Eli’s spine.

“I’ve missed you so much these past two weeks, Eli. It’s been driving me crazy not seeing you.” She squeezes his hand tighter, her body briefly pressing against his as he walks. “The new songs… some of them are about you, you know. About us. I can’t wait for you to hear them.” Her cheeks flush slightly as she admits this, a rare moment of vulnerability from the globally famous performer. “just promise you wont tell anyone what you hear tonight, okay?? My company would kill me if they knew I was giving private previews of unreleased material. Ahah”

As he approaches the recoding the studio at the end of corridor, Lisa pauses before the door, turning to face him fully. The hallway is dimly lit, casting soft shadows across her perfect features as she looks up at him with those expressive eyes that seem to hold the universe within them.

She places the bouquet carefully on a nearby table and steps closer, her hands sliding up his chest before resting on his shoulders.

“Thank you for surprising me today. You have no idea how much I needed to see you.” She rises on her tiptoes, pressing her soft lips against his in a kiss that starts gentle but quickly deepens with unspoken hunger. “Let me show you my world for a while, and then…” she pulls back just enough to whisper against his lips, her eyes darkening with desire. “… maybe we can find somewhere private in this big building to properly make up for those two weeks apart. What do you say??”

Eli listens to her song, and he appreciates her songs then he says about leaving.

Lisa’s expression freezes for a split second as he mentions leaving, something flickering behind her eyes that doesn’t quite match her bright smile. As he turns to leave, she follows him to the door of the studio, her fingers lingering on his arm just a moment too long. There’s a subtle shift in her demeanor – a calculated adjustment in her posture, a too perfect tilt of her head as she waves goodbye.

“I’ll miss you so much, baby. This work is so important… you know how these producers are, right? So demanding!!” she sighs dramatically, placing a hand over her heart. “I’ll text you when I’m done, okay? Don’t wait up for me through, it might be really late.”

As soon as the elevator doors close and he disappear from view, Lisa’s sweet expression melts away. A mischievous grin spreads across her face as she pulls out her phone, quickly typing a message with nimble fingers. The screen illuminates her face in the dimly lit hallway, casting shadows that accentuate her sharp cheekbones and the sudden gleam in her eyes. she bites her lower lip in anticipation as she sends the text to Y/N: “He just left, I’ll be there in 30. Get everything ready like we talked about.”

Back in her private dressing room, Lisa changes quickly, discarding her professional attire for something more provocative – a short pink skirt that barely covers her ass and a top that only covers her boobs and, showcases her slender neck and collarbones, her toned belly, and a black coat to cover her top.

She applies a fresh coat of deep red lipstick, smirking at her reflection as she imagines the night ahead. The Lisa that the world knows – sweet, professional, dedicated – is no where to be seen. This Lisa moves with predatory gaze, gathering her things with quick, decisive movements.

“Poor Eli,” she murmurs to herself, checking her reference one final time. “So trusting, so easy to fool. If only he knew what his best friend and I get up to when he’s not around.” She laughs softly, the sound echoing in the empty room as she slings her designer bag over her shoulder. “maybe someday we’ll tell him. Tell him what her girlfriend did to help him. Or maybe…” her voice drops to a whisper as she switches off the light “…maybe someday we’ll let him watch, if daddy y/n is feeling generous.”

As Lisa exits the building through a private back entrance to avoid being recognized, she feels a thrill of excitement coursing through her veins. The night air is cool against her skin, raising goosebumps along her exposed arms and legs. Her phone buzzes with a response from y/n that makes her pussy throb with anticipation. She slides into the waiting black car with tinted windows, giving the driver y/n’s address before settling back against the leather seat. Her mind races with thoughts of what awaits her – y/n’s strong hands, his cock that fills her so perfectly, the way he knows exactly how to make her scream in ways Eli never could. The secret rendezvous, the betrayal, the risk of being caught – it all adds to the intoxicating cocktail of desire that has been building inside her.

“Drive faster,” she instructs the driver, her voice husky with need. “I’ve got someone waiting for me who doesn’t like to be kept waiting.” As the car accelerates through the streets of LA, Lisa closes her eyes, imaging the look on Eli’s face if he ever discovered her deception. The thought shouldn’t excite her, but it does – intensely. Perhaps that makes her terrible, but in this moment, with the promise of y/n’s touch just minutes away, Lisa manoban doesn’t care about being good. She only cares about satisfying the relentless hunger that’s been consuming her since the moment she lief straight to Eli’s face with a smile.

As she reaches y/n’s house, she waits impatiently outside his door.

Lisa’s breath catches in her throat as y/n opens the door, her body instantly responding to the sight of him. Without a word, she launches herself at him, her slender arms wrapping around his neck as her lips crash against his in a desperate, hungry kiss. Her tongue immediately seeks entrance to his mouth, moaning softly as she tastes him, her body pressing flush against his much larger frame. The pent-up desire from her deception, the thrill of sneaking around behind Eli’s back, all culminates in this moment of raw need.

“I’ve been thinking about this all fucking day,” she gasps against his mouth, her thai accent thickening with arousal as y/n’s strong hands grip her firm ass,

Lifting her effortlessly. Her legs instinctively wrap around his waist, her short skirt riding up to reveal the wet bare pussy underneath. “Couldn’t focus on anything else… just needed your cock so badly.”

As y/n carries her to the bedroom, Lisa grinds against him, feeling his hardness through their clothes and whimpering with anticipation. When he tosses her onto the bed, she bounces slightly on the mattress. Quickly settling in a seductive position on the bed, her hair fanning out around her head like a dark halo.

( CAN’T CHOOSE ONE PHOTO, ALL THREE OF THIS PHOTOS ARE SO FUCKING HOTTTT )

Her chest rises and falls rapidly with each breath, her nipples visibly hard beneath the thin fabric of her top as y/n climbs on top of her. The weight of his body pressing her into the mattress sends a thrill down her spine, so different from Eli’s gentle touch. When his lips claim hers again, she surrenders completely, her hands clawing at his back, urging him closer as he grinds his clothed cock against her clothed pussy over her pink skirt.

“Fuck, I missed this,” y/n growls as he finally breaks the kiss, his voice deep and commanding in a way that makes Lisa’s pussy throb with need. “Your boyfriend has no idea what a little slut you really are, does he?”

Lisa’s eyes flash with wicked delight at the mention of Eli, a smirk playing on her swollen lips. She reaches up to trace y/n’s jawline with her fingertips, her touch teasing and provocative.

“Poor Eli,” she purrs, arching her back to press her boobs against y/n’s chest. “He thinks I’m in the studio right now, working so hard on my new album. Only if he knew his sweet little Lisa was spreading her legs for his best friend instead.” She laughs, the sound both musical and cruel. “He gave me roses today…can you believe it? Roses!!! While all I could think about was getting your cock inside me.” She laughs softly, the sound both musical and cruel. “He’s so fucking clueless. Earlier today, I was kissing him with the same lips I used to suck your cock since the last 2 weeks.” Her hand slides down between their bodies, palming y/n’s erection through his trousers and squeezing appreciatively. “Now are you going to keep talking about my boyfriend, or are you going to fuck me until I can’t remember my own name? because I’ve been soaking wet thinking about this all day, and if you make me wait any longer, I might just have to take matters into my own hands. You already know he never fucks me like you do… never makes me scream the way you do. God, I need it so bad tonight as every night. Need you to fuck me until I can’t remember my own name!”

Lisa’s eyes darken with lust as she hooks one leg around y/n’s waist, using the leverage to grind herself more firmly against him. The friction sends sparks of pleasure through her body, making her gasp and bite her lower lip. There’s something intoxicating about this betrayal, something that makes every touch more electric, every kiss more intoxicating. In this moment, with y/n weight pinning her to the bed and the knowledge of her deception fresh in her mind, Lisa feels more alive than she has in her entire life.

y/n chuckles darkly at Lisa’s words, he intentionally didn’t do anything making Lisa go out of patience and with practiced ease lowering his trouser and freeing his throbbing thick cock. While her gaze stares at him in the most seductive manner.

y/n with ease slides down her pink mini skirt, knowing in full well that she won’t be wearing any panties underneath which was true as her skirt left her thighs, she was all naked and glistening with her arousal for y/n.

Lisa’s eyes widened with arousal as y/n’s cock pushes inside her, her body arching off the bed as she takes him to the hilt with extreme ease. A moan escapes her lips, louder and more uninhibited than she ever allows herself to be with Eli. Her pussy clenches around his length, already perfectly molded to his length and shape after these past two weeks of constant use. As he mentions Eli, a wicked smile plays across her lips, her eyes gleaming with mischief and cruelty.

“GOD!! NOOOO! Eli suspects absolutely nothing,” she purrs, rolling her hips to take y/n deeper, her hands gripping her shoulders for leverage. “You should have seen his face when I fed him that bullshit about having to work tonight. So fucking trusting, so pathetic.” She laughs, the sound cutting off into a gasp as y/n hits a particular sensitive spot inside her. “He even waited for me at the company building with roses. ROSES!!!!!!! While I was here all day, getting my pussy stretched by your cock. MMMMM, FUCKK……. He’s such a fool.”

y/n begin to thrust harder, reminding her of their arrangement, and Lisa’s eyes roll back slightly from pleasure. Her nails dig into his skin as she recalls how easily she agreed to the deal – using her body to clear Eli’s debt, a debt that he took from y/n. the irony makes her pussy clench tighter around y/n’s cock, her arousal intensifying with each thrust and each word of their deception.

“Best deal I ever made,” she moans, her thai accent thickening with each word. “Eli thinks I’m such a good girlfriend, so loyal, so hardworking. If only he knew I’ve been on my knees for his best friend every day for two weeks.” Her laugh is breathless now as y/n’s pace increases. “FUCKK!!! That was so hot today – having to rush from your bed to meet him, your cum still leaking down my thighs while I hugged him. And then coming right back to you. GODD!! I’m such a whore for your cock and you y/n daddy!”

Lisa wraps her legs tighter around y/n’s waist,

(LIKE THIS)

Pulling him deeper inside her. Her pussy makes obscene sounds of squelch, squelch, squelch with each thrust, evidence of just how aroused and wet she is by their betrayal. Her medium and perfect sized boobs,

bounce with the force of his movements, his brutal thrusts, nipples hard and visible with through the fabric of her black top that she hasn’t even bothered to remove. There’s something primal and desperate in the way she moves against him, these past hours apart have been torture for her, as she needs this – needs him – more than air. The knowledge that she’s betraying Eli, that she’s choosing y/n and his cock over her relationship, that she’s lying and manipulating the man who loves her – it all combines into a potent aphrodisiac that has her teetering on the edge of orgasm already,

“GODDD, I’ve been such a bad girl,” she moans, her accent thickening as pleasure builds withing her. “This morning when you bent me over the kitchen counter…

( IMAGINE THOSE BOXES AS THE KITCHEN COUNTER PLEASE 😭)

“and fucked me raw, and then after wringing out an orgasm out of me in that position, you switched again, placing me on the sink and then fucking me there again…

“I almost came just thinking about how I’d be kissing him with the same lips that had your cum on them hours earlier.” Her eyes roll back slightly as y/n hits a particularly sensitive spot inside her. “FUCK!!! RIGHT THERE!!! Your cock fills me so much better than his ever could. He thinks he satisfies me, but he has no idea I need to get properly fucked by a real man.” Her words are deliberately cruel, each syllable punctuated by the slap of skin against skin as y/n pounds into her traitorous body. “Two whole weeks, I’ve been your personal slut, coming here every fucking day, letting you use every hole while he waited patiently for me to ‘finish work’. What a fucking fool.”

“You know what’s funny??” she gasps between thrusts, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper even though they’re alone. “He actually asked if he could come to the studio with me tonight. Can you imagine? If I hadn’t made up that story about the producer, he might have followed me right to your door. Watched me knock and beg for your cock like the desperate slut I am.” Her eyes gleam with dangerous excitement at the thought. “Maybe someday we should let him see. Let him watch while you fuck his girlfriend better than he ever could. Would you like that, y/n? to fuck me right in front of your bestfriend, show him what a whore his precious lily really is? To show him that you own his Lisa now?”

Lisa’s hands snakes between their bodies to rub her swollen clit as y/n continues his relentless pace. Her other hand reaches for her phone on the nightstand, a wicked idea forming in her lust-addled mind. With practiced ease, she unlocks it and opens the camera, angling it to capture y/n’s magnificent cock disappearing completely into her pussy. The betrayal excited her beyond reason, her walls clenching tighter around him at the thought of how forbidden this is. “Should we send him a little preview of what his girlfriend really does when she’s ‘working late’? or the preview of how her girlfriend helped him repay his ‘debt’?” she suggests with a malicious giggle that transforms into a moan as y/n thrusts particularly deep. “Or maybe daddy we should just keep torturing him, letting him think he’s enough for me when we both know I need your cock to truly satisfy me. GODDD!!!, being such a two-faced bitch makes me so fucking wet. I love how he has absolutely no idea that his best friend has been fucking his girlfriend senseless for weeks in return for the debt. It’s so fucking hott daddy y/n!!!”

Lisa’s eyes gleam with wicked delight as y/n recounts their arrangement, her hips never stopping their rhythmic movements against his thrusting cock. Her lips curl into a cruel smile, her perfectly manicured nails digging into his shoulders as pleasure courses through her body. Her body responding to each precise thrust that hits her g-spot with practices accuracy as y/n in this two weeks have thoroughly explored Lisa’s pussy, he knows all of her sweet spots and even if he don’t know one he makes one inside her pussy with his cock. Her nails dig deeper into his shoulders as she throws her head back, exposing the elegant column of her neck, her throat that has been reshaped by y/n in the last 2 weeks.

Her black hairs splayed across the pillow in stark contrast to her flushed skin. The sound of their bodies meeting fills the room – wet, obscene slaps that only fuel her arousal further.

“GOD, YESSS!!!” she moans, her thai accent thick with lust as she recalls that fateful day. “I remember walking into that restaurant hands in hands with you after getting such a delicious kiss from you on the road just outside the restaurant. Eli though, like I was just meeting my boyfriend’s best friend for an innocent dinner. Poor Eli was so worried about his debt to you.”

She laughs breathlessly as y/n hits her g-spot, making her whole body shudder. A particular deep thrust makes her gasp, momentarily losing her train of thoughts before continuing with cruel amusement dancing in her eyes. “He had no idea I was going to offer my body as payment. FUCKKK!!!! JUST RIGHT THERE DADDDDYYYY!!!! I was already wet before I even sat down, imagining what it would be like to fuck you behind his back.”

Lisa laughter is musical but laced with malice as she recalls that first night, her pussy clenching around y/n’s cock at the memory. She reached between them to rub her swollen clit, her movement becoming more frantic as she approaches her peak. The betrayal – the sheer audacity of fucking her boyfriend’s best friend – adds a forbidden thrill that makes every sensation more intense, more addictive. Her body arches beneath y/n’s, her perfect boobs bouncing with each powerful thrust. Her pussy clenches tightly around y/n’s cock at the memory, her back arching off the bed as she continues her confession. The wet, obscene sounds of their fucking fill the room – slap, slap, slap – punctuated by her increasingly desperate moans. Lisa’s hairs is splayed across the pillow, her makeup beginning to smudge from sweat and exertion, yet she looks more beautiful in her depravity than she ever does on stage with makeup.

“Remember how I pretended to be hesitant at first??LoL!” she gasps, her words broken by pleasure. “Acting all shocked when you gave me the agreement papers ‘work off Eli’s debt with my body?’ such bullshit – I was already planning to fuck you before I even arrived. MMMM!!!! FUCKKKK OH FUCKKK DADDDDY FU—C---K JUST RIGHT THEREEEE!!!!!!” her eyes rolls back momentarily as y/n adjusts his angle, hitting deeper inside her. “And then when we got back to your place… god, I didn’t even wait to get to the bedroom. Had your cock in my mouth right in the hallway while Eli was texting me, asking how my meeting is going.” She laughs again, the sounds transforming into a moan. “I told him it went great, that the meeting was really good, while I was literally choking on your big magnificent cock. That might have been the wettest my pussy has ever been till that day, but after that ofcourse it had been even more wet just with you my daddy.” Her eyes lock with his, dark with desire and shared conspiracy. “And now look at us – I’ve been lying to him for two whole weeks, telling him I’m in the studio recording when really I’ve been here, legs spread,

for his best friend. FUCKKKK!!!!! The way he looked at me today with those trusting eyes while your cum was still inside me from this morning… it’s so wrong but it makes me so fucking wet.”

Lisa’s hands snakes between their bodies again, rubbing furious circles on her clit as y/n continues his relentless pace. Her other hand reaches up to grab the headboard, giving her leverage to meet his thrusts with equal force. The bed creaks beneath them, the sound a rhythmic accompaniment to their forbidden liaison. There’s something almost performative in the way she moves – the perfect arch of her back, the calculated tilt of her head – as if she’s putting on a show even now, even when there’s no audience but her daddy y/n.

“And Eli is still so fucking grateful to you,” she continues, her voice dripping with malice and arousal in equal measure. “He keeps saying what a good friend you are for forgiving his debt, how lucky he is to have you in his life. If only he knew you’ve been balls deep in his girlfriend every single day since then. That I’ve been coming here straight from dance practice, still sweaty, just begging for your cock. That sometimes I don’t even shower after you cum inside me before going home to him.” Her pussy spasms around y/n’s length at this admission, her arousal visibly increasing with each cruel word. “Its so fucking hot, knowing I’m full of your cum while he kisses mee, while he tells me how much he love me. God, I am such a fucking whore for you, Y/N. your personal little Thai slut, betraying her boyfriend with every thrust of your cock. and the best part? I don’t feel guilty at all. Not even a little bit. In fact…” she locks eyes with y/n, her gaze burning with lust and something darker “- I think I’m so fallen in love with your cock and you more than I ever loved him.”

The pace of their fucking intensifies, y/n’s cock driving into her with renewed vigor as they revel in their shared betrayal. Lisa’s body trembles on the edge of orgasm, her perfectly toned dancer’s legs wrapped tightly around his waist to pull him deeper. Her pussy makes obscene squelching sounds with each thrust, ‘squelch, squelch, squelch’ evidence of just how aroused their cruel game makes her. She reaches for her phone again, this time opening her messages to Eli with one hand while the other continues working her clit. “Should I text him right now? Tell him the recording session is going well while in reality you’re balls deep in his girlfriend’s pussy? God, he’s probably sitting at home right now, so proud of his hardworking girlfriend, when really I’m just a filthy cheating whore who can’t get enough of his best friend’s cock. Poor, clueless Eli – so dedicated, so loving, so fucking boring in the bed compared to you. MMMMM, FUCK ME HARDER JUST LIKE THATTTTTT. Make me scream your name so loud that if he were outside the door, he’d know exactly what a slut his perfect Lisa really is!”

Lisa’s eyes glaze over with a mixture of lust and shameless pride as y/n recounts that fateful night, her body responding to each thrust with practiced enthusiasm. Her back aches off the bed, her black hairs sticking to her sweat-slicked skin as she revels in their shared memories of betrayal. A particular deep thrust hits her g-spot, causing her to gasp and momentarily lose her mind before she continues with renewed fervor. Her body writhes beneath him, accepting each brutal thrust with hungry enthusiasm, her pussy clenching around his shaft as if trying to milk him of every drop. She runs her tongue across her lower lip, tasting the remnants of her own lipstick, smudged from their passionate kisses.

“GODD, YES!!!!!! I remember that night so clearly,” she moans, her Thai accent thickening with each word. “I was so fucking horny I couldn’t even wait until we finished dinner. Had to go to the bathroom and touch myself just thinking about what was going to happen.” Her pussy clenches around y/n’s cock at the memory, her hips bucking up to meet his thrusts. “And that kiss outside the restaurant… mmmmmm, fuck! I didn’t even know it was you at first, but my body responded instantly. I was so wet by the time we got to your place, my pussy was practically dripping down my thighs. Poor Eli thought I was just being a good girlfriend, helping him out of debt which I did so, but I found my true purpose in life doing so which is serving you my y/n.” she laughs cruelly, the sound transforming into a moan as y/n hits deeper inside her.

“Best fucking idea I ever had,” she gasps, her words broken by pleasure. “Offering my body to repay his debt… mmm, fuck… who knew I’d discover what real fucking feels like?? Eli could never, ever make me feel the way you do. The way you took control of my orgasm by day four of our first week… god, that was so hot!!!” her pussy spasms around y/n’s length at this admission. A particularly deep thrust makes her gasp, momentarily losing her train of thoughts before continuing with cruel amusement dancing in her eyes. “remember how you edged me for hours until I was begging, crying, promising I’d be your good little slut forever if you’d just let me cum? And now I can’t even orgasm without your permission. My pussy belongs to you completely.” y/n reaches between them to rub her swollen clit, making her movements more frantic. “FUCKKKKK!!!!! Y/N!!!!!!!!!!!! I need to cum so badly, please, daddy, please let your little thai whore cum on your cock. I’ve been such a good girl, betraying my bf every day just to feel you inside me.”

The pace of their fucking intensifies, y/n’s cock driving into her with renewed vigor as they revel in their shared betrayal. Lisa’s body trembles on the edge of orgasm. The bed creaks beneath them, the sound a rhythmic accompaniment to their forbidden liaison. Lisa’s body trembles as y/n increases his pace, her nipples hard and sensitive against the cool air. The familiar tension builds within her core, that desperate need for release that only y/n can grant her now. Her eyes lock with his, pleading and desperate despite the cruel words still flowing from her lips.

 “You’ve completely ruined me for him,” she confesses, her voice a breathless mixture of pride and desperation. “Every time he touches me now, I have to close my eyes and pretend it’s you just to get wet. Sometimes I call him from your bathroom, telling him I’m working late while you’re fucking me from behind. The way he says he misses me while I’m choking back moans… fuck, it’s so wrong but it makes me feel so alive.” Her eyes rolls back. “I’m not even his girlfriend anymore – I’m just your personal thai fucktoy who happens to live with him.” She locks eyes with y/n, her gaze burning with lust and something darker, “Please, y/n, daddy, my master,” she whimpers, her voice suddenly vulnerable and needy, so different from her usual confident stage persona. “Tell me I can cum. I need to hear you say it. My body won’t let me release without your permission anymore. You’ve ruined my so good – Eli could fuck me for hours and I wouldn’t cum once because my pussy only responds to your know. Isn’t that fucked up? HIS GIRLFRIEND’S ORGASM BELONG TO HIS BESTFRIEND.” Her words dissolve into incoherent moans as y/n continues his relentless assault on her g-spot, her body hovering on the precipice of ecstasy, waiting for the command that will send her over the edge. “Please, please, pleaseeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee let your cheating whore cum on your cock. I need it so badly. I’ll do anything – I’ll call him right now while you’re inside me, I’ll tell him everything, just please let me cum!!!!!”

Lisa’s eyes light up with wicked excitement at y/n’s order, her pussy clenching around his cock at the sheer audacity of what they’re about to do. Without hesitation, she reaches for her phone on the nightstand, her fingers trembling slightly with anticipation and the building pressure of her denied orgasm. She pulls up Eli’s contact and hits call, putting it on speaker as y/n continues to pound into her mercilessly. The ringing echoes through the room, mixing with the wet slapping sounds of their bodies and Lisa’s barely contained moans. she bites her lip hard, drawing blood as she struggles to compose herself, transforming back into the sweet, professional girlfriend Eli believe her to be in the seconds before he answer.

“H- hey baby!” she manages, her voice higher than normal as y/n deliberately slows his pace to deep, grinding thrust that hit her g-spot with precision. “Just got a quick b-break from recording and wanted to hear your voice. How’s your evening going??” her free hand grips y/n’s shoulder desperately, nails digging into his skin as he mouths ‘GOOD GIRL’ at her, rewarding her performance with a particular deep thrust that makes her eyes roll back. She covers the phone briefly to let out a silent gasp before returning to the conversation. “The P-producers are working me so hard tonight, but the track is coming along amazingly. You’ll be so proud when you hear it.”

As he speak on the other end, telling her about his evening. Lisa locks eyes with y/n, a silent plea in her gaze as he continues his relentless assault on her senses. Her body is wound tight like a spring, desperate for release that only y/n can grant. The forbidden thrill of speaking to Eli while his best friend’s cock stretches her pussy has her on the edge of madness. Sweat beads on her forehead, her black long hairs now damp and clinging to her flushed skin. She bites into the pillow beside her head to muffle a moan when y/n reaches between them to rub her swollen clit in tight circles.

“I m-miss you too, Eli,” she manages to say, the lie flowing easily from lips that have betrayed him countless times. “But this is such a big opportunity… the producers think this could be my b-biggest hit yet.” Her voice catches as y/n increases his pace, the bed beginning to creak dangerously beneath them. She quickly covers it with a fake cough. “Sorry, my throat’s a bit sore from all the takes. Listen, I should get back soon – they’re only giving me ten minutes.” Her eyes widen in panic and pleasure as y/n mouths ‘BEG ME’ while continuing to thrust into her, his hand still working her clit with expert precision. She covers the phone again, whispering desperately, “Please let me cum, please, I need it so badlyyyyyyy!!!!” before retuning to the call with practiced composure. “I’ll text you when I’m done, okay? Don’t wait up though… it might be really late before I finish.”

As soon as Eli say goodbye, Lisa barely manages to end the call before throwing the phone aside and arching her back off the bed, her composure shattering completely. The mask of the sweet girlfriend falls away instantly, replaced by the wanton, cheating slut she truly is with y/n. her legs wrap tighter around his waist, pulling him impossibly deeper as she claws at his back. “Please, I did it, I fooled him completely while you fucked me. Now please, PLEASEEEEEEEE let me cum on your cock!!!!! I can’t take it anymore!!!!” she begs shamelessly. Her pussy is dripping, clenching rhythmically around y/n’s shaft as she hovers on the precipice of what promises to be an earth – shattering orgasm. The betrayal, the deception, the sheer wrongness of it al has heightened every sensation to an almost unbearable degree. Her eyes are wild, pupils blown wide with lust as she waits for the command that will send her spiraling into ecstasy – permission that belongs to y/n now, just like every other part of her that was supposed to be Eli’s alone.

y/n orders Lisa to call Eli again and this time have a double meaning conversation with him.

Lisa’s body is a live wire, thrumming with a mixture of unreleased pleasure and the intoxicating thrill of y/n’s order. Her breath hitches, a gasp caught in her throat, but her eyes, wide and dark with desire, fix on y/n with a desperate, almost feral gleam. The thought of calling Eli again, of weaving another web of lies while y/n’s cock relentlessly punishes her pussy, sends a fresh wave of heat coiling low in her belly. Her fingers, slick with her own arousal and y/n’s pre cum, trembles ass she fumbles for her phone, her entire being focused on the precipice of an orgasm that y/n cruelly hold just out of reach. She finds Eli’s contact, her heart hammering against her ribs like a trapped bird, the anticipation almost unbearable. As the phone rings, y/n’s hips don’t miss a beat; his thrusts become even more savage, a deliberate attempt to shatter her composure, each impact sending jolts of forbidden pleasure through her. She bites down hard on her lower lip, tasting blood, ass she forces her voice into a semblance of normalcy when Eli answers.

“B-baby! Hi! Oh my god, you won’t believe this,” she pants, trying to make it sound like she’s out of breath from rushing. “The lights just went out in the whole studio! Some kind of power surge, I guess. So, another unexpected break for me.” y/n grins wickedly, his eyes glinting as he slams into her, forcing a choked gasp from her. She quickly covers the microphone, her eyes wide with panic and exhilaration, before continuing. “Yeah, it’s… it’s pretty chaotic here. Everyone’s running around. I just wanted to… to feel your presence, you know? It’s so dark and… and I’m feeling a bit overwhelmed with how… intensely everything is happening tonight.” Her voice cracks as y/n grinds down, hitting her g-spot with unerring precision. She arches her back, her nails digging into y/n’s sweat-slicked shoulders. The sounds of their bodies colliding are loud, wet, and undeniable. She can hear Eli asking what that noise is. “OH, that? That’s just… uh… some of the crew trying to move heavy equipment in the dark! Yeah, they’re really… pounding away at it. It’s… it’s quite a deep sound, isn’t it? They’re really filling up the spaces with effort.” Her eyes roll back as y/n’s pace quickens, his thrusts becoming a blur of motion, driving her closer and closer to the edge. She’s gasping openly now, her carefully constructed lies starting to frey. “I’m getting so… so worked up here, baby. This whole session has been… incredibly… penetrating. I feel like I’m about to… to just… explode with all this creative energy!” suddenly, y/n’s voice, deep and commanding, cuts through the air, loud enough for the phone to pick up clearly. “CUM FOR ME LISA NOW!!!”

Lisa’s mind goes utterly blank. The world narrows to the feel of y/n’s cock inside her, his voice echoing in her ears, and the cataclysmic orgasm that rips through her body. A strangled scream tears from her throat, a sound of pure, unadulterated ecstasy mixed with the terror of being caught. Her body convulses violently around y/n, her inner walls clenching and milking him with an intensity that steals her breath. She’s vaguely aware of Eli’s confused voice on the other end of line. “OH! OH!!! GODD!!!! Baby, I… I gotta go!!!! Someone just… just make me come to their way, and the generator is here too. Light are back! Talk later, loveyoubye!!!” she slams the end call button, her body still shuddering with the aftershocks of her orgasm. But y/n isn’t finished. His thrusts continue, hard and deep, stoking the embers of her climax, pushing her into wave after wave of pleasure. Her vision blurs, tears of ecstasy streaming down her face as she clings to him, completely undone. “Y-y-y/nnnnn… OH FUCKKKK… YOU…. YOU MADE ME….. HE HEARD…. HE HEARD YOU…..” she gasps, her voice a wrecked whisper, her body still bucking against his as she relentlessly prolongs her orgasm, driving her further into a state of mindless bliss and utter depravity. “He… he must know…. But…. OH GODDDDDDDDD, it felt…. SO GOOOOOOD….. FUCK…. DON’T SSTOP….. PLEASEEEEEEE…. KEEP GOING….. KEEP MAKING ME CUM LIKE THIS……. FUCKKKKK MORE AHHHH HARDERRRRRRRR!!!!”

As dawn’s first light filters through the blinds, Lisa’s body lies sprawled across y/n’s bed, a testament to their night of debauchery. Her hair, now a tangled mess, sticks to her sweat-slicked skin, and her makeup is smeared beyond recognition. Her limbs feels like lead, muscles aching in places she didn’t know could ache, yet a satisfied smile plays across her swollen lips. The sheets beneath her are soaked with their combined fluids – evidence of countless orgasms that have left her in this deliciously broken state. She shift slightly, wincing as the movement sends aftershocks of pleasure pain through her oversesitized body.

“Fuck, y/n” she murmurs, her voice barely above a whisper, hoarse from hours of screaming his name. “I don’t think I can move… you’ve completely destroyed me darling.” A weak laugh escapes her as she recalls the night’s events – being bent over the kitchen counter, pressed against the shower wall, taken on the hallway passage floor,

Each position more intense then the last. Her pussy throbs at the memory, somehow still hungry despite the thorough claiming it has endured. “Eli is going to notice something’s wrong when I can barely walk into the studio later. What am I supposed to tell him? That I had an intense dance practice? LoL” The thought of her boyfriend’s cluelessness sends another wicked thrill through her body, making her inner walls clench around nothing.

Lisa reaches for her phone, checking the time with bleary eyes. Several missed calls and messages from Eli illuminate the screen – concerned texts asking if she got home safely after her late night recording session. A cruel smile curves her lips as she types out a response with trembling fingers : “Sorry babe, fell asleep as soon as I got home. Exhausted from working so hard all night. Can’t wait to see you later.” The lie comes so easily now, after two weeks of constant deception. She sets the phone down and turns to y/n, who watches her with that predatory gaze that never fails to make her wet.

“You know what’s fucked up?” she says, tracing lazy patterns on his chest. “Part of me wants him to find out. I want to see his face when he realizes his precious gf has been nothing but a cock-hungry slut for his best friend. I want him to know that while he was waiting patiently for me, respecting my ‘career’ I was on my knees begging you to fill me with cum.” Her hand travels lower, finding y/n’s semi hard cock and giving it a gentle squeeze. “But then another part of me loves this game too much to end it. The thrill of looking him in the eyes, knowing your cum is still dripping down my thighs… god, it makes me so fucking wet. Makes me feel so powerful, you know? Like I’m living this secret life he could never imagine his ‘perfect Lisa’ capable of.”

Lisa’s phone buzzes again – another message from Eli, this time saying he’s bringing coffee to her apartment in an hour as a surprise. Her eyes widen momentarily before that familiar wicked gleam returns. She shows the message to y/n, her pussy clenching at the dangerous possibility forming in her mind. “What do you think, daddy?? Should I let you fuck me one more time before I go? Leave your scent all over me so when he hugs his sweet, innocent girlfriend, he’s actually smelling the woman who just had his best friend’s cock down her throat? Or maybe…” she bites her lip, the most depraved idea yet forming in her lust-addled mind. “Maybe you should come over too. Tell you were in the neighborhood. Watch him kiss me hello, knowing exactly where these lips have been all night. Fuck, the thought of being caught between you two – one who knows exactly what a whore I am and one who has no idea – its making me wet all over again. Please, y/n tell me I can cum one more time before I have to go back to pretending I’m his faithful girlfriend.

( a/n - feeling better now with my health will post the request stories with next week. thank you for waiting 🥰 )

[dpspcehntr]

Hello! I saw that your ask box is open and that you write NSFW. May I request you write about them (headcanons or an imagine, whichever you prefer) trying to find the quiet!reader's* most sensitive spot?

*= quiet, as in, one of the reader's characteristics is being quiet. it doesn't have to do anything with the mouth being covered up lol

Thank you!

Oooooooooo this is interesting! I’ll give it my best shot! I'll just to headcanons for now but do come back inf you want longer write ups!

My ask box is officially back open! Send in your requests, thoughts, and head cannons and I might write a little something for you! Please read the rules first!

Warnings: suggestive content (things are mentioned but nothing is described)

Zayne

Is also pretty quiet

Does find some pleasure in finding ways to get you to vocalize but it is not a priority for him

With his surgeon like precision he finds your sweet spot every time

Because you both are so busy and often have to be quick, your quiet nature helps you both to be able to enjoy yourself without much worry (his office has seen it all)

Xavier

Surprisingly he is pretty vocal and sometimes would like you to be the same

He makes a game out of it, finding your sweet spot then getting you to vocalize

He takes it very seriously and will keep things going until you do (I'm taking hours long sessions)

Once you do vocalize he showers you in kisses and praise before trying again

Rafayel

Makes a point to make you vocalize as much as possible

Finds your sweet spot with ease each time just to hear you

Lots of praise when you do become more vocal

He himself is so loud and he just wants you to do the same

Sylus

He doesn't even have to try to find your sweet spot he just knows

Doesn't mind that you're on the quieter side

He does however get really turned on when you do make noise (but will never admit it)

Kisses you right before climax so you have no choice but to moan in his mouth (much to his delight)

[soft4changbin]

More than jokes

Stray Kids Seungmin x reader

Summary: You and Seungmin start as sarcastic friends, but hidden feelings slowly surface. After weeks of tension and a quiet confession, your friendship turns into something deeper—real, honest love built on teasing, loyalty, and unspoken care.

Word count: 2,193

The first time you meet Seungmin, he insults your coffee order.

“Vanilla syrup? With oat milk?” he says, peering into your cup like you’d poured poison into it. “You trying to drink a dessert or stay awake?”

You blink at him, the new intern your friend dragged you into helping settle at the label building.

“That’s funny,” you reply, raising your cup. “I don’t remember asking the vocal line’s least adventurous member for a review.”

Seungmin grins—quick, crooked, and dangerous. “Touché.”

From then on, everything is like that.

Snarky comments. Close calls. Eye contact that lingers too long for either of you to fully admit. You’re not sure when it started turning into something else, but suddenly your mornings feel weird if he doesn’t pass by your desk with some stupid quip or you don’t tell him he dresses like a conservative grandpa in the middle of a heatwave.

You weren’t supposed to get close. It’s work, after all. But Seungmin has a habit of showing up when you least expect it.

Like on the third Thursday you stay late, staring at a stalled project for an artist you’re helping coordinate.

He tosses a bag of snacks on your desk.

“You’re still here?”

You don’t look up. “No, you’re hallucinating. I’m actually at home eating ramen and crying about it.”

“Good to know you multitask.” He slides into the empty chair beside you. “You want help?”

“You offering out of pity?”

“Absolutely.”

You glance at him, smiling despite yourself. “I’ll take it.”

And you do. Over and over. Until his presence becomes so familiar, you stop noticing when it becomes essential.

You don’t realize how used to him you’ve become until he starts acting weird.

Not weird weird, but quieter. Less teasing. His usual sarcastic remarks get replaced with polite nods and distant glances.

At first, you think it’s just a bad week. He’s an idol—there’s pressure, schedules, exhaustion. But when it stretches into two weeks, you can’t ignore it.

You finally catch him alone in the practice room one night, sitting cross-legged on the floor, head bent over his phone.

“You ghosted me,” you say simply, leaning against the wall.

He looks up, startled. “I didn’t.”

“You did. You texted me good luck with the showcase and then disappeared.”

“I’ve been busy.”

You cross your arms. “Bull.”

His eyes narrow, jaw tightening. “Okay, fine. Maybe I needed space.”

“From what?”

He hesitates. Then: “From you.”

The silence that follows cuts sharper than anything either of you has ever said.

“Oh.”

He sighs and rubs the back of his neck. “Not because I don’t want to be around you. Because I do. That’s the problem.”

You’re still staring at him, heart skipping uneven beats, when he finally says it.

“I like you,” he mutters, eyes down. “And I didn’t want to. I thought if I kept it casual, joked around, it’d stay safe. But then it wasn’t. It’s not.”

You take a slow breath, trying to process.

“You… like me,” you repeat, softly.

He nods once. “Yeah. Kind of a lot.”

You don’t kiss him that night.

Instead, you sit down beside him, shoulder brushing his, and say, “I like you too, Kim Seungmin.”

And just like that, the lines you’d both tiptoed around begin to blur.

What follows is weeks of pretending nothing’s changed while everything has.

You still tease each other. You still argue over food and playlists and whether cats are better than dogs. (He insists dogs win, you say cats are independent icons, and he says you’re just wrong.)

But under it all, there’s this electric thread—unspoken, undeniable.

He texts you goodnight every night now.

You save the voice note he sends when you’re stressed out, the one where he hums your favorite song softly, almost shy.

You start writing little things in your notes app about the way he laughs—like he’s trying not to, like it sneaks up on him.

He catches you once, scrolling through it, and snorts. “You journaling about me? I’m flattered.”

You roll your eyes. “Don’t worry, I’ll change your name to ‘Coffee Hater’.”

He smiles, and it lingers too long. “Make sure you spell ‘boyfriend’ right, too.”

You both freeze.

He’s the one who breaks the tension.

“Too soon?” he says, rubbing his palms on his jeans.

You shake your head. “No. Just unexpected.”

He studies your face, serious now. “Then let me say it for real.”

He stands, reaching for your hand and gently pulling you up. He’s still holding it when he says, quietly:

“Be with me. Not in the background, not in-between. Just… us.”

You nod, heart pounding. “Yeah. Okay. Us.”

That night, you finally kiss.

It’s awkward at first—his nose bumps yours, your hands fumble—but then it settles into something soft and honest, like all the words you never had the courage to say.

Months pass

He’s busy. You’re busy. But he still brings you coffee, even if he won’t drink it himself.

He still roasts your playlist choices and makes fun of your hoodie collection.

But now he also holds your hand under the table at meetings and walks you home after long nights, telling you he’s proud of you even when you feel like you haven’t done enough.

And when you ask him one day—half-laughing, half-serious—“Why me?”

He just says, “Because you never treated me like I was anything but real. And because every version of me liked you.”

You kiss him again, coffee-flavored and familiar, and wonder how you ever thought he was just another sarcastic guy at the label.

He was always more than that.

And now—he’s yours.

[eatfishies]

let's warm each other up | 🔞

summary: You decided to take care of a sick Xavier and aided him back to recovery.

or

Xavier fucking you despite his feverish state because he can't resist you and your relentless teasing.

word count: 3.1k words tags: NSFW, xavier x reader (afab), second person POV, porn with feelings, pwp, oral sex (cunnilingus), clit play, swearing, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, pet names, vaginal ejaculation, creampie, lowk breeding kink (?), nipple play and licking, teasing, temperature play kind of, written before feverish attempts card dropped so obvi it won't be accurate fish notes: mehehe i am back w xavier dis time ..! (⸝⸝> ᴗ•⸝⸝) finally wrote abt this bunny bc after watching his trailer,, he rly got me motivated to write this lmao. anyway hope all of U enjoy !! (♡°▽°♡) ── ao3 link ★ ˙ ̟ | my twt !

When Xavier texted you and regretfully cancelled the plans you both made to check out that new horror movie at the cinema, you wondered what had occurred.

Now, with nothing to do, you couldn’t help but seek out the cause for the abrupt change. Your feet carried you to Xavier’s doorstep in no time. 

Pressing the doorbell, you waited patiently for Xavier. You stood there for awhile until you heard the unmistakable sound of coughs followed footsteps shuffling closer.

The door swung open and revealed an extremely sick-looking Xavier. His pale skin glistened with sweat and his cheeks reddened from the heat he’s radiating off of. His eyes were glassy and unfocused as he locked with yours.

“Oh… did you need anything?” He asked, his voice soft yet there’s an underlying hint of fatigue. 

Frowning, you leaned in to observe him carefully, “Xavier, are you sick?” You brought your hand up to press against his forehead.

Immediately you pull back, recoiling like you’ve been burned. And sure enough, Xavier was heating up and you can tell from the way he fidgets in the doorway that this is taking a lot of toll on him.

Wordlessly, you gently placed a hand on his arm and pushed him inside, letting the door close with a click. “Why didn’t you tell me you’re sick?” 

You led him back to his bedroom, beckoning him to lay down. “I didn’t want to worry you. I didn’t expect it to be this… bad either.” He spoke sheepishly, resting his head on the pillow.

Instead of fretting over, you chose to silently rummage through the cabinets of his kitchen. You let out a sigh once you realize that Xavier had no medications on-hand.

Walking back to the bedroom, you find Xavier with his eyes closed. Beads of sweat rolling down his face. His shirt unbuttoned, leaving his chest bare and on-display. 

Yet, his face contorted into one that speaks of pain. Even though you knew that your partner was the type to not vocally admit that he’s not fine.

“I’m going out for a bit to grab some meds for you. Will you be okay alone?” 

He lets out a low groan before fluttering his eyes open, blinking blearily at you. “Yeah, I’ll be fine.”

Still, you couldn’t help but hesitate a bit. Xavier is more than capable of handling any sort of situation but seeing him in this state and vulnerable tugged at your heart. There’s nothing you want more than to scoop him into your arms and rock him to sleep. 

But before that, you need to get the proper medications first. You cast a long lingering gaze at him, “Call me if you need anything.” 

With that, you left the house. 

As you made your way through the street, your mind wandered to the possibility and cause of his sickness. It was rare to see Xavier sick minus the times where he’s gotten himself injured after a battle with Wanderers. That was different – this however, was something else entirely. Sure, maybe it really was just a simple fever but could it really be just that? What if something happened to him that he didn’t tell you? You’ve come to terms with the fact that Xavier has his own secrets and mysteries that he kept quiet about. Despite the budding curiosity that grows within you with each encounter, you find it hard to vocalize the need to know.

After all, they say patience is a virtue. With time, surely he’ll come around and bare the truth in front of you willingly. For now, you’ll just occupy yourself with other tasks. Such as taking care of a certain sick hunter.

You watched as Xavier reluctantly swallowed the medicine you fed him. His face contorted into a grimace. “Was there no strawberry flavor?” 

A small chuckle emitted out of you, “No. I’m afraid those are only for kids.”

“Hmm…” He pouted and frowned slightly before turning to glance at the pills scattered beside him. “You bought a lot… surely you won’t need me to take all of them, right?”

Placing down the glass of water to his bedside table, “Of course not. These are just inventory stocks. For you to keep them so that the next time you get sick, you wouldn’t have to go out and buy them anymore.”

He picked one up and examined it, “That’s thoughtful of you but…” His blue eyes locked with yours, “You didn’t have to do that. I don’t really get sick much.” 

As soon as he said that, a cough wracked out of him. You swiftly patted his back as he lurched forward, his body was burning up. You reached out and grabbed the glass of water again, handing it to him, which he gratefully drank from.

“Try and get some rest.” You said softly as you made a way to stand up from the bed. But Xavier’s hand held onto yours, “No, stay.” 

Hearing him say that and looking back onto that flushed expression, you couldn’t help but oblige. Laying down next to him despite the fact that you could potentially get a fever too from the close proximity.

When you turned your head to the side to gaze at him, he was already fixated on you. “Why aren’t you sleeping?” 

“Everything is too hot.” 

You suddenly remembered the cold compression you had brought along. You sat up and reached out for it, “Here, let me cool you up.”

Xavier only lets out a noncommittal hum, giving you a sign to go ahead as he closes his eyes, awaiting for the cool compress. Tentatively, you began to press it against his skin, hoping that it could alleviate some of his discomfort. 

And yet, a wicked part of you wondered what would happen if you were to mess around with him for a bit. A sly smile curved onto your lips as you teasingly lowered it down and prod his bare stomach with it. A soft hiss and grunt leaves his mouth before he flutters his eyes open.

“What are you doing?” He spoke weakly, his voice slightly strained. 

Opting to further elicit reactions out of him, you continued to poke and press the cold compress harder. Whimpering, Xavier effortlessly caught your wrist, effectively stopping you from relentlessly teasing him.

A small smile etched on his face, “Having fun, aren’t you?” 

You responded with a cheeky grin, “Of course. It’s not everyday I get to take care of a super skilled hunter.” You retorted by pressing the compress to the side of his abdomen – a sensitive spot that only you knew. Whilst your other hand caressed his stomach, feeling how warm he is before you trailed your hand up to brush against his nipples.

Sensing how much he liked it, you repeated the motion until he was writhing underneath your ministrations. Your fingers rubbing the engorged buds until they are pert and hard. 

A startled gasp escaped from your lips as Xavier suddenly pinned you down on the bed. He was breathing hard, his cheeks flushed from the cold he’s experiencing, yet his strength still overpowered you despite his frail condition at the moment.

“Do you really think it’s fair for you to mess and tease me around like this?” He caressed your cheek tenderly, “You make it hard for me to resist. All I want to do is to fuck you senselessy until you’ve learned the consequences of your actions.” He murmured, leaning in to nuzzle onto the crook of your neck.

His hot breath touched your skin and you felt shivers running down your spine at the close proximity. You knew it was silly and well, a tad bit immature to be poking fun at and taunt Xavier while he’s sick. But staring back at his reddened face and having his body pressed up close against you like this in bed made your brain short-circuit. 

A smaller part of yourself preened under his attention though. It’s a heady feeling to know that you’ve got your partner all hot and bothered just by teasing him. Xavier breathing down on you hotly and another part of you felt a twinge of regret at having to disturb his rest. Yet, he was the one who insisted on having you this close to him.

How could you possibly deny his request when all you craved is to be near him, no matter what circumstances you both find yourselves in. You felt his hand caress your rear bottom before he laid his head on your chest, staring at you intensely.

His hand found yours, intertwining as he spoke breathlessly, “You know… the closer they are to it, the more sensitive they become.” Referring to your touch and your presence.

You felt your breath hitch in your throat, your mind going blank the minute he gazed into your eyes. “Xavi… we shouldn’t. You’re sick.” 

“You do know that it’s more than just a fever.” He lowered his head and ran his fingers onto your clothed body, mimicking your teasing gestures earlier. “Even when I’m like this, I just can’t resist you. I need to feel every part of you.” 

Your mouth went dry as he spoke his desire towards you. Feeling your restrain waver amidst his words. He tilted his head up, “You did say you want to help me.”

Well, I’ll be damned, you mentally thought to yourself. Cupping his face, you relented and finally gave in, “Alright. But only one round, okay? You need to recover and gain your strength.”

That made him smile, nodding, “Okay.” With that, he leaned in, “Can I kiss you?” He asked hesitantly despite the fact that you gave him the go sign. Looks like he’s still a bit wary, afraid that you’ll catch the fever too. 

But at this point, you were too desperate for him. “For you, always.” You reassured him.

Your lips met his almost instantly – passionate and sloppy. All wet with saliva and tongue. You gasped at the eagerness of his claim, a bit taken aback. You had thought that he would start off slow but as it turns out, Xavier was more pent-up than you’d realized. 

Even in this feverish state, he’s still hungry and craving for every inch of you. Swallowing your whimpers and moans as he devours your mouth, his tongue entangling along with yours in a fiery dance.

As you two broke the kiss, he pushed your shirt up to reveal you in your bra. Leaning in, he began to pepper kisses along the swell of your breasts. “I could never get enough of you. I need to have you all the time.” 

Effortlessly, his fingers unhooked your bra, tossing the garment aside as he stared down at your bare chest. “Don’t hold back. Let me listen to you.” He said before diving in and taking your nipple into his warm mouth. Suckling and swirling his tongue around the bud.

A string of moans fell from your lips as he lavished your hardened peak. His other hand trailed up to brush against your neglected nipple, twisting it in between his fingers. Sending jolts of pleasure all across your body. The dual sensation only further arouses you, dampening your panties with slick as he teased your buds. 

He pulled away with a lewd pop, moving to suck and lick on your other engorged peak. You mindlessly bucked your hips against his body. The heat emitting off of him combined with his mouth on your sensitive spot makes your head spin with need. 

“Xavier… please…” You mewled out, seeking friction on your core. Desperately aching for his touch. He released your nipple and gazed at you, “Does my bunny need more?”

Nodding, you yearned for him to give into your whims and satiate the fuelling desire burning inside you. Xavier smirked at you, enjoying the raw, unbridled hunger plastered all over your pretty pink cheeks. 

He lifted your legs and slid your skirt off along with your panties, baring your glistening slick folds to him. For a moment, Xavier merely stared at it, his breath hitting your flesh. Tentatively, he ran a finger down the slit, feeling how wet you were for him. 

“You’re so wet for me, honey. Looks like I wasn’t the only one who wanted this.” He noted, a hint of pride blending into his voice as he easily slipped a finger in your pussy. 

You bit your lip, fixated on him as he slowly began to thrust, inserting another finger inside. Xavier inched close to your clit and licked as he curled his digits, making you writhe and cry out in pleasure. He lets out a satisfied hum, rumbling against your swollen nub as he eagerly lapped and swirled around the bean. 

Immediately your hand gripped and fisted his hair, the sound of squelching mingling with your moans was bouncing off the walls, creating a heady mix. His tongue laving your clit in rapid circles while his fingers pumped in and out of your dripping cunt. 

Each flick and thrust sends you closer and closer to your climax. You gasped, feeling your stomach tightened as you tethered to the edge. Hearing your escalating cries, Xavier picked up the pace and ate you out with fervor, sliding his digits out of your slippery core with the same rhythm. Determined to make you come undone beneath him.

With one hard suck on the sensitive bud, your body tensed, arching your back as a loud moan teared out of your throat. Xavier continued his ministrations even as you orgasmed, stretching your pussy as he enthusiastically lapped up every drop of your arousal. 

Even as your high subsided, Xavier merely kept his fingers inside you, pumping it in a gentle motion. He pressed a chaste kiss to your clit, gazing up at you with love and adoration gleaming in his eyes. 

A trail of slick coated his chin and all over his mouth, rendering you speechless for a moment as you took in the sight of your partner – covered in your essence and looking as handsome as ever. Xavier slowly pulled his digits out, leaving your cunt to clench around nothing as he crawled up and captured your lips. Letting you taste yourself on his tongue.

You whimpered against his lips, melting and wounding your arms around his neck. Drawing him close and needing to feel his desire towards you. His rock-hard erection prodding against your stomach insistently. A swell of excitement courses through your veins at the notion that your lover got aroused and erect while pleasuring you. 

“I can’t wait any longer… need to be inside you.” Xavier rasped as he broke the kiss. Hastily, he shrugged his pants off – no undergarment, he was butt-naked this whole time. The thought elicited a chuckle out of you. Typical, you noted in amusement.

Yet as his cock slapped against his stomach, all of the thoughts and words ceased. Oh, he definitely turned out alright as he took his member in his hand and stroked it, looming over you. Wasting no more time, Xavier lined his length between your entrance. 

You were about to say something when his hips moved forward, his cock thrusting inside you in one smooth movement. He groaned at the sensation of your warm walls gripping and engulfing his member. But his was hotter, instantaneously making you whine. 

“Fuck… feel so good.” Your partner uttered lowly, his fingers digging into your skin, holding you in place as he started to move. The fever radiating off of him as he buried his length deep in you drove you to mewl and claw at his back. It was even more intense than you and his coupling session. 

Reminding you that his sick state heightened every waking muscle in your body. Beads of sweat gathered in between his brows as he focused solely on fucking you in a steady motion. He briefly closes his eyes, savoring the exquisite feeling of finally being one with you despite his insides screaming at him. 

Everything was much more pronounced, every roll of his hips against your cunt seemed to alleviate his senses. Setting his blood on fire as he drove his thick length deeper. “You feel so good. I don’t think I’m going to last long.” He grunted, his voice slightly strained. 

Tilting his head to nuzzle your neck, inhaling your scent, increasing his momentum, drawing sweet sounds of your debauched cries. “Can I finish inside you?” His hot breath fanning over the damp skin as he nibbled and sucked on your throat.

You could only whimper as he pounded into you with an intensity that bordered onto frenzy. His throbbing cock hitting your favorite spot repeatedly. His hand ascended to pinch and roll your puffy nipple. “Tell me, bunny. Where should I cum?”

All you could feel is an overwhelming sense of pleasure entwining one with you. His teasing on your breast and his relentless thrusts into your slick cunt was making you lose all sort of semblance and grip on the situation. 

Even so, you do crave for the feeling of his hot seed filling you up. Marking you and leaving you dazed. With a shuddering gasp, you spoke out, “Inside. Cum inside me, please.” 

As Xavier bit on your neck, you felt his thrusts become more erratic. His pleasure building up along with yours. He trailed his hand down to rub your clit, wanting you to come at the same time. 

Your walls clenched around his length, arching your back as you felt your orgasm envelop your entire being. Xavier’s hips snapped forward in tandem with your climax as he finally let go. A moan escaped his lips as he spilled his load inside your spasming pussy, his cock pulsing as he stilled. 

A satisfied hum emitted off of him as he dropped his weight and laid on-top of you. You yelped at the sudden movement, feeling his breath evening out as he fell into deep slumber. You couldn’t help but smile, running your fingers in his hair as he remained fast asleep.

His cock was still buried inside you however – you can feel his cum starting to leak onto your inner thighs and staining the bedsheets beneath you. You exhaled a sigh of content, basking in the afterglow of you and Xavier’s intimate time together. 

You groaned slightly, “You’re heavy, Xavi.” You murmured, yet you made no effort to move. Instead you wrapped your arms around him and embraced the sick hunter. 

“Sleep well. I hope you feel better soon.” You muttered, kissing his cheek and fluttering your eyes shut. Allowing yourself to drift off to slumberland. Your heart is at ease knowing that Xavier is here and safe, in your arms.

[ttturnitup]

as it turns out | kwon jiyong x reader

summary: You and Jiyong hate each other’s guts (even if Seunghyun says otherwise). When things get out of hand, there’s only one solution to the drama.

word count: 2k

warnings: minor miscommunication/lack of communication , angst

author’s note: This fic was written for day 12 of the BigBang April challenge! Not sure if I technically met the prompt, but I guess that’s why they call it a prompt? In any case, I hope you get some enjoyment out of this fic! And massive thanks to my girl @loveesiren for all the feedback and help whilst finishing this up!

“And then he had the audacity to call my outfit bad. My outfit! As if he isn’t clashing colours and prints just because he can.”

Seunghyun laughs, topping up your wine glass before settling back on the couch.

“Did it ever occur to you that he’s doing it to get your attention?”

“I don’t want him to have it.”

“Your constant rants say otherwise, Y/n.”

You glare at Seunghyun, grabbing a pillow from behind you and holding it up as a threat. He quickly holds a hand up in surrender, the other moving his wine glass away from the couch. A moment passes before you lower the pillow, satisfied that your friend is properly cowed.

“I just don’t get what his problem with me is.”

“He doesn’t have a problem with you.”

“Seunghyun, last week he walked out of the studio as soon as I stepped inside. That kinda feels like he has a problem with me.”

Seunghyun winces. It’s impossible to deny your statement; he was there to witness the whole thing, after all. But still, he presses on, trying to convince you.

“Okay. I’ll admit that wasn’t his best move. But, Y/n, I promise you he doesn’t have a problem with you.”

“No, he just hates me.”

“He doesn’t hate you.”

“The day I believe that is the day you stop loving space - never going to happen.”

You hear your friend sigh, and you gear up for another argument. It wouldn’t be the first time; you understood as his best friend, Seunghyun had a better understanding of him, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to believe him. Actions speak louder than words and all that. But Seunghyun doesn’t push, instead pivoting to asking about your latest role. You’re grateful, and the rest of your wine night continues without bloodshed - or a ruined couch.

————————————————————————————————

The thing was, there was a time a few years ago where you knew he didn’t hate you. There was a time where you might have considered Kwon Jiyong a friend. Being trainees at the same time forged a connection that few understood. Being leaders of your respective groups only deepened that bond. The long hours, the pressure, the uncertainty of what the future held - all of it was was the focus of stolen late night conversations, in the moments between YG breathing down your necks and getting whatever sleep you could. It was during that time that you got to know the person behind the G-Dragon persona; it was then that you grew fond of Jiyong.

The groups debuted, and that connection only seemed to strengthen. You remember being in the crowd, cheering loudly as BigBang took to the stage for the first time. You can recall Jiyong and the others swarming you and your group, hugging you tightly after your first performance. For a year, your groups chased each other, prompting a friendly rivalry, pushing each other to do better. It was fun, exciting.

But as BigBang continued to grow, your group started to flounder. You worked hard, trying to fix every problem that came up. Better choreography, extra vocal lessons, thinking up brand new concepts. Nothing worked. Your group disbanded, your friendships frayed from the pressure you put on them. While you still loved music, it hurt to see it all fall apart, and so you pivoted towards acting.

You kept in touch with Jiyong, determined not to lose any other friendships. You felt the distance between you growing, but you pinned it down towards your busy schedules. Being invited to star in their latest music video felt like a sign, and so you jumped at the opportunity. Spending time with Jiyong, being able to reaffirm that connection, while also being back in the scene you used to love so dearly? It felt too good to be true.

Filming went longer than anyone expected. Everyone was at their limits, tired and grumpy, yet Jiyong kept pushing. You recognised his need for perfection; you had it, too. It played its part in your group’s disbandment, and so you spoke up, hoping to diffuse some of the tension.

“Maybe try having Daesung move over here?”

He turned to look at you, frowning. “I’ve got it, thanks.”

“Will you at least give it a try? I think you’re overlooking things because you’re tired.”

“I’m not.”

“You are! We all are! You don’t need to be G-Dragon all the time, you know.”

“I don’t need help from a failed idol!”

Jiyong might as well have slapped you for how much his words hurt. You were no stranger to his outbursts when he was stressed, but they had never been this personal, and they were always followed with an apology. Not this time. All he offered was a dumbfounded stare, as if he couldn’t believe what he said, either. You turned away from him, rapidly gathering your belongings.

“My scenes are done for today, right? I’ll be back tomorrow. If you need me, I’m sure G-Dragon here can figure something out.”

You walked out, refusing to look back.

————————————————————————————————

Staying friends with BigBang meant crossing paths with him. Some days, you could get by with giving him the cold shoulder. Most of the time, though, you traded insults at best, and had yelling matches at worst. The others did their best to diffuse the tension, but sometimes it spilled over with no way to stop it. It wasn’t fair, and you knew it. You didn’t want to give them up over whatever this rivalry with G-Dragon, because that’s what it was. But either way Jiyong? That was harder to determine. There were moments where the boy you grew fond of came out: when he was relaxed with his friends before he saw you, when something he had been puzzling over worked out, when your fighting was more playful and brought a different kind of heat.

You wished that you weren’t jealous of the boys, but you were. You wanted Jiyong, but all you had - all you knew how to do - was fighting with him.

————————————————————————————————

“I’m telling you the blocking doesn’t work.”

“And I’m telling you that it will. I know what I’m doing!”

“Oh, do you, G-Dragon? Who has more experience with film shoots?”

“Me, because this isn’t a film shoot!”

“Enough!”

Seunghyun’s voice is louder than you’ve ever heard it, and you know you’ve gone too far. Taking a step back, you’re startled by how close you and Jiyong had gotten during your argument. It leaves you off-kilter, but you push the feeling down. It was just to get in his face, to push his buttons and get him pissed off; that’s your story if anyone asked. Foolproof.

You turn to apologise to Seunghyun (and Daesung and Youngbae), but a hand held up in front of you stops you in your tracks. The oldest member looks unimpressed. You feel chastised, and Seunghyun hasn’t even said a word. You don’t look over, but you know Jiyong is feeling the same.

“Jiyong, Y/n, with me.”

Seunghyun’s voice left no room for argument. You follow behind, quiet, not wanting to upset your friend further. You hoped that wherever he was taking you, you’d have a chance to apologise properly, to fix the mess that you had a hand in making. The silence as the three of you made your way down the hall was overbearing, but you didn’t dare break it.

It was only a couple of minutes later when Seunghyun came to a stop, and you almost crash into him, taken aback by the suddenness of it. You look around, confused. You’re nowhere special; in fact, you’d probably describe it as nowhere at all. Just a hallway with a door in front of you. He opens the door, and before you can protest, he’s pushing you both inside. The door closes, and the click echoes through the tiny room.

“Kiss each other, or kill each other, I don’t care. But this door isn’t opening until you sort your shit out.”

You can just about hear the footsteps as Seunghyun walks away. You don’t even bother trying to check the door; you know without a doubt that Seunghyun wasn’t lying.

You try to create space between you and Jiyong, not that there’s much to create. Your eyes cast around the room, finally acknowledging that your friend shoved you into a supply closet. Bastard.

Minutes pass, though it could have been hours for all you knew. Silence stretches between you, both too stubborn to make the first move. It would almost be like admitting defeat.

More time passes. Seunghyun hasn’t returned. You’re about to plan a jailbreak when Jiyong finally snaps.

“This is your fault, you know.”

“What did you just say?”

“The room’s not that big. I know you heard me.”

“No, I did. I want you to say it again.”

He scoffs, as if he can’t believe your attitude. You can’t believe his.

“This is your fault, telling me what to do, not showing me respect-”

It’s your turn to scoff, and it’s loud enough to interrupt him.

“Respect? You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“You call Daesung oppa and he’s younger than you! You’ve never called me by any titles!”

“Yeah, because he’s actually deserving of one!”

“And I’m not?”

“You’re unbelievable.”

“Yeah, I’ve been told.”

A finger jabs into his chest with enough force to make him rock back in his heels. You crowd his space, just like before.

“This is not about your goddamned ego right now.”

“Why shouldn’t it be? I’m G-fucking-Dragon!”

“You don’t get it! I don’t like G-Dragon. I never fucking cared about G-Dragon! I cared about Jiyong!”

Your confession echoes throughout the supply closet, accompanied by the sounds of heavy breathing, the weight of it threatening to crush you. You can’t move away. You try to at least avert your gaze, but Jiyong’s confused noise draws your attention. Your heart hurts at his expression.

“You… what?”

You can’t look at him. Your gaze drops. There’s an apology on your lips, but what comes out is, “I care about you. I always have.”

There’s no response.

It’s weird, being in silence, when you were so used to the fighting. Jiyong always had a comeback, always knew just what to say. Often, it would only serve to piss you off. Wasn’t that a little bit messed up to miss that?

Your eyes started to sting, and before you could stop it, tears were falling down your face. You can hear Jiyong curse, clearly uncertain on how to help you. Years of animosity and buried feelings have created a chasm between you that he doesn’t know how to cross.

There’s so much unsaid. So much hurt that he can’t ever take back. He’s confused and scared and apprehensive, but he can at least do something in the moment. He just hopes it doesn’t backfire.

Slowly, as if he’s worried about hurting you, he wraps his arms around you, only hesitating for a brief moment before pulling you into a tight hug. It’s embarrassing how the sobs seem to ease immediately, but you find that you don’t care. You lean into his embrace. It was everything you never let yourself of. Just for a moment, you could pretend that Jiyong cared about you, too.

You could pretend that the kiss he pressed to the top of your head was real.

challenge taglist; @wcnderlnds, @ldydeath, @loveesiren, @bluesunss, @emmiesoverthemoon, @eru-vande, @berfgrimm, @gdinthehouseee, @infinetlyforgotten, @petersasteria, @currentloser, @makeitworse, @sherxoo, @aizshallnotbefound @breakmeoff♥

[cryptfile]

☆ Loveseat, [ Carmen Berzatto AU ]

SUMMARY — After being in a relationship with Carmen, you cannot help but being extra judgemental when it comes to food.

WARNINGS — i’m currently rotting in hell, meaning: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, +18 content, there’s a lot of, cursing, choking, praising, dirty talking, mentions of food and eating, hair pulling, fingering.

SIDE NOTES — This is my first post here, so hope you guys like it. English’s not my first language so if there's any mistakes in advance, i’m sorry. Please interact if you like this, reblogs, comments, likes, all means a lot to me! I’ll leave my inbox open so you can suggest more characters! This takes place in an alternative timeline for own my liking, enjoy! x

Lately, Carmen Berzatto was not sure how he managed to get you.

To be completely honest, most of his friends seemed to wonder how he managed to pull the tattooer that adorned his hands with cool designs being that shy, however, when you started texting him photos of your daily food stating it was complete bullshit — He knew he had you in for a long time.

He would explain himself it was something casual at first. A few texts every now and then, swimming between a wave of bad jokes and tension he was sure he was imaging as he read through the texts you send at least twice, then, he would know he’d win you over with food.

Maybe that’s when you became so judgemental at first, after trying the lasagna he made for you after being so tired from working all day long, something else just snapped, even when he was done being near the fire, not even wanting to look at a plate ever again: He managed to spoil you with something good to eat anyways, making you moan in pure pleasure after craving some good food all day.

Of course it was important, can you even blame him?

He was not very vocal about it, hell, it was hard for him to even admit it even after being with you almost six months, but he loved the way you reacted to all his stuff. Even if it was something simple like scrambled eggs or regular pasta with plain butter, it was the way you groaned and grab the spoon licking the silverware clean, showering him with praises after when he was so used to be miserable in the kitchen.

“Open up,” he says before feeding you with the spoon. It was one of those nights where he was trying new stuff at your place, keeping you up till late seated on the kitchen counter close to him as he cooked, opening your mouth just to give an allegedly meaningful critique. “Any thoughts? Feedback?”

It was a wild ride for sure. A turbulent one as you closed your eyes all suddenly, the image burnt on the back of his head when you groaned savoring the taste like it was something else.

“Dunno,” you admit later on, trying to think on anything bad to say — “Need to have another bite before giving an honest answer.”

He smirks in response, repeating the same action just to hear you speak again. Being with you was something similar as his cigarette breaks, escaping from all the stress he usually gets in his life.

Silence again.

“Well fuck, you have me here. Maybe needs some more salt,” you think out loud. Almost trying to say something bad out of force as you knew he wouldn’t stop until he got an brutally honest answer. “The combinations of flavors though is really breathtaking, you outdone yourself this time. Could tattoo this risotto on me, no questions asked.”

Salt? He takes a bite himself almost immediately.

“It doesn’t need any more salt” he replies furrowing his brows in response. “We’ve talked about this sweetheart…”

“You wanted me to be a critique,” you admit almost offended, letting out a light chuckle before stealing the spoon from his hand in one swift movement. “I'm, being indeed, sincere here."

God. It was those moments that made him catch his breath, how the minutes passed slower and everything else seemed to blurry around the two of you. He cannot deny it, cause he loves the snarky responses, the way your mouth wraps around the spoon in a way that made him so devastated at the sight, head spinin’ with the thought of the things he already did to you, the memories that he seems to cherish so deeply.

He cannot stop either when his fingers toy with your hair, the strains sliding smoothly through his fingers. You seemed to enjoy it too, cause it's all it takes to make you forget about the food, leaning into his touch.

"Since when you became my main critique, hm?” he asks, placing himself between your tights as he invaded your space with nothing but pure confidence in his cooking skills. He knew for a fact, it didn't need any more salt. "Made you so spoiled you are a new expert here, baby?"

“Well, it’s your fault anyway" you defend yourself, narrowing your eyes at his words. "You're the one who spoils me rotten, always feeding me nice tasty stuff, keeping me up till’ late trying new things. I’m what you taught me to be, cannot blame for being a good critique. It is what it is."

"So you're blaming me for being a caring partner?" he cannot hold the laugh back, pulling on your hair almost enough to make you look at him. “S’that what you’re implying here?” 

“Would never even dare to” you admit all innocence bitting the inside of your cheek, and Carmen swears you’re doing it just to get in his brain, to control every action in that twisted brain of yours, and he cannot stop himself to fall every time, pulling on your hair slightly rougher this time as he towers over you. “Just implying that you’ll ruin food for me forever if we keep this up.” 

“Not seeing what’s the problem with that” he simply replies as he stared at your expression, how the simple act of your head tilted backwards made his blood boil, the exposed skin of your neck pulling him like the polar opposite of a magnet as he looks down at you — “Don’t really care.”

He’s clearly enjoying that. The sudden proximity as his left hand travels through your side, gripping onto your tight as he gives a light squeeze, tracing invisible patterns against your warm skin that contrasts so much to the chef’s usual cold hands. 

He cannot possibly have enough of you as you melt into his touch, in the very edge of turning into a mad man as he grabs a fistful of your hair to pull you in a demanding kiss, tongue-tracing over your lower lip, almost asking for a formal invitation to finally invade you, his breathing colliding against your skin, holding you in place as he suffers from a burst of pure adrenaline. 

His hands betray him in no time, drawn by the sounds you make when he’s nibbling on that nice curve on your neck, allowing his hand to glide over your soft skin just to end up in your inner tights, fingertips just barely touching as he just watches over you, the sight of you being just enough, that nice smell on your skin when he kisses your neck, your perfume being all around him… it’s getting to him.

He quickly becomes all so vocal, when he’s finally reaching the fabric of your shorts and his touch leaves a burnt sensation behind, the sound of his voice echoing in your ears.

“Gonna’ ruin it f’ya, baby” he says in a low voice — “Looking s’hot all bothered already just for a few kisses, cannot help but spoil m’girl.” 

Of course he fucking loves it. He loves how he knows exactly how to make a mess out of you, touching just the right places, concentrated in your pleasure as he drags the velvety fabric of your shorts to the side, making you crave the touch of his fingertips before finally slide them beneath the fabric of your underwear, lips parted as he finally touches your entrance, taking his time with you.

“God, you’re so wet f’me already, so damn warm” he says in a low whisper, making you talk in between your erratic breathing words that don’t seem to mean anything.

It’s so good. The frantic feeling washing over him as his fingers move in circles over your clit, the almost unnoticible wet sounds filling the air of the kitchen as he places soft kisses in that very spot where your shoulder meet the curvature of your neck. He just knows exactly what he’s doing. How to get under your skin, how to make you run out of breath, and he simply grew attached to it, to the way your skin feels so smooth against his fingers and you act up minutes before beggin’ for more.

And when he finally buries two digits in your cunt — God fucking damn.

He cannot keep the facade, blue eyes drinking the sight of you in as you moan, hips moving against his palm watching how his fingers dissapeared in you, pumping slowly at first, enjoying the way your walls wraps around his fingers, the words that came out of your opened mouth in pure desperation.

“Bear,” you would say in an unsteady breathing “O-oh fuck yes, yes baby, please don’t stop, please-”

The hand who pulled your hair before now tightens around your throat, and he can see you smiling like you’re in fucking paradise before he presses against that nice spot in the side of her neck, cutting the suministration of air to your lungs slightly. Always so eager, making him try new things together even when he was used to an relatively calm, almost non-existant sex life when all his focus was on the restaurant, insisting on trying new things that he end up loving.

“Such a good fuckin’ girl f’me, taking me so s’good” he praises you for a moment, obliging you to look at him when he talks “Lettin’ my fingers fill you up like this, a mess already.”

“That’s it baby, move those pretty hips, need you to keep fuckin’ y’self.”

Lewd sounds, his tight grip on your neck, your hips arching to find that perfect place for him to hit and it’s all it takes for the chef to bring you closer and closer to the edge, fingers curling inside your soaked cunt, moaned sentences that in his ear are only adding up fuel to keep flexing his muscles for you, to keep on stimulating you.

“Gonna cum,” you let him know, but he’s quickly shaking his head in disapproval — “Carm, please, need to-”

“You can hold a little longer, princess” he coos, his grip on your throat almost making you stop breathing completely. Fuck. Your vision becomes dizzy, and for Carmen, the view is nothing but pure delight in front of him. Your shirt raised over your stomach, you pretty little face all disorted thanks to the thrill, parted legs just to give him more space to work with, fighting for some air. He’s so damn greedy about it, knowing he’s the only person who can get you like that. “Hm, stop squeezing me like that baby.”

He chuckles lightly, your hands gripping into the edge of the counter, raising one leg over the table as you try to do what you’re told, to please him every single time. He’s torturing you, and you cannot blame him cause you made him like that, just like he spoiled you with food. All those times whimpering in his bedsheets, asking all shy if he can choke you while pounding into your cunt, cheeks red while riding him, whispering things about how thick he feels inside, how he’s stretching you out so nicely, made him confident enough to know exactly what you like.

Carmen Berzatto is a caring boyfriend after all.

“S’okay, sweetheart” he says moments after, placing soft kisses on your face, your skin glimmering against the lights of your kitchen, a light layer of sweat as you closed your eyes tightly — “Cum baby, let me feel you” he talks you through it, words coming to his mouth so easily now, the sound of his tone so raspy it makes you arch your back as you finally let yourself go, riding the orgasm and making it last as long as you can, your own pleasure being your only priority as his digits bury themselves in your cunt, pressing against your neck to make it more difficult for you, to fill your eyes with tears as you loudly moan his name.

He holds you place, the mess he made out of you in such short time, eyes following the way your body shakes in the glimpse of ecstasy, fingers still pumping inside you but at a much slower pace, knowing you’d be sensitive now, lips swollen, messy hair and ruined mascara.

“Willing to admit now i’m right?” he ask in a low voice, letting you breathe as he was still afected by you — “That it doesn’t need any more salt, smartass?”

You hum in response, chuckling at his stubborn remark, your hands gripping into his arm just to dig your nails in his tattooed skin, almost begging him to let you breathe a second.

“Get up,” he says, not harshly enough to be a command, but instead, a plea. “Bend over the counter baby. M’not done with you yet.”

And even being so sensitive, you cannot help but comply, looking at your boyfriend through half-lidded eyes cause yeah, he made you a spoiled brat in terms of food, but you have definitely broke something else when it came to the intimacy he was now into.

Or maybe you just loved being his main critique.

[siddhigirls]

casual

pairing: jude bellingham x afab!reader

warnings: angsty

jude puts on his shirt while you sit with your knees to your chest. you and jude have been messing around for a few months in secret. “goodbye y/n, i’ll call you later” he says kissing your forehead, you didn’t even say bye back.

—

“jude.. i really like you. i’ve been liking since i’ve first met you when we were teenagers.” you finally admitted, he said nothing back. “say something..” you say slightly embarrassed.

“i like you back.. but i’m not ready for a relationship” he lied through his teeth. jude was always attracted to you, physically but he was never a relationship guy ever since his ex cheated on him. “i can’t be in a relationship but we can do relationship stuff..” he says looking away, you wanted him so bad, even if it meant he can’t be yours, at least you could have his affection. you agreed. ever since that night your friendship was broken. every time you guys hung out, it ended with both of you guys, kissing, intimately holding each other.

you always knew jude was a heart throb with all his fans, it physically hurt you to watch him get all this attention, you were once posted on his instagram and his little bereals but everything of you on his instagram was taken down and you guys rarely even hangout without it ending up sexual.

—

you and jude’s parents were always close and his parents always loved you. they invited you for dinner just to catch up but, as always, jude fucked you in the bathroom, although you didn’t really want him to fuck you the way he does, he fucks you because he wants to, not because he’s in love with you. in the back of his mind he has other girls lined up. you guys went to the dinner table and you were oddly quiet, although you spoke when spoken to.

why are you so bitter rn? lighten up baby

the text made you straighten up and changed your demeanour for the rest of the night.

‘anything for him’ you thought to yourself

—

jobe, jude’s little brother called you. he always loved you and thought you were the right girl for jude, he often talked sense to jude but jude turned a blind eye to it.

jude wiped his mouth after eating you out, this was the first time you guys ever did something so intimate, “just casual?” jude says

“i know baby, no attachment”

—

you were done, you’ve been draining yourself for months and months just to make jude happy, he was your first everything. so, every time he texted you, you ignored him.

he took advantage of how much he liked you, and you’d never think he would do something like that.

hey, can i come thru?

miss u

why r u ignoring me

mate wtf

read 21:33

you shut off your phone, you were relaxing in your silk pyjamas, scrolling mindlessly on tiktok.

you heard a knock at your door, despite it being really late you recognized that specific knock. you opened the door to face jude, you looked at him with no expression, jude was always really bold and vocal so instead of saying something he pushed you out the way to let himself in your loft. he was watching the window looking at piccadilly circus, watching the rain hit your windows. you sat down on your couch and he follows. the silence was thick, you don’t even wanna look at him because of how embarrassed you were. “what’s wrong baby..” he says softly, moving closer to you. you wanted to touch him so bad but you held back. he started kissing your shoulders and neck as he tries to take off your shirt. “no..” you say pushing him off.

“what did i do?” he exclaimed “im tired of you stepping all over me jude. i need you to leave” he left without a pause, didn’t even try fighting for you but that just shows you that he doesn’t deserve you.

present

it was new year’s eve. you haven’t spoken to jude since that moment where you didn’t have sex with him, you stood up for yourself and he didn’t expect it. your instagram wasn’t that big so every time you posted on your story you saw him lurking. he was still watching you from far, scoping out when he could contact you.

you could care less about what he does, you deleted everything that was associated with him. during your healing stages you missed him so much to the point where you’ve completely stopped watching football. his brother often messages you trying to see if you were good, even as going as far as calling his own blood a complete dumbass, but your heart was so heavy and full of love that you told him to not speak ill of his older brother.

his parents were well aware about what happened between you and jude, and it was safe to say they were on your side but understandably kept their distance because they still want to have loyalty for their son.

you were on a date with another guy and you were both sitting inside of an italian restaurant in front of the window with the view of the street, you were in the heart of london, giggling and sharing a bottle of wine. his smile bringing butterflies to your stomach, you haven’t felt like this in so long. the streets were filled with drunk, and loud people, it was a minute till count down so you and your date got up and went to the bar to celebrate the new year with a kiss.

3..

2…

1…

you and your dates lips touch as you melt into his embrace, you forgot about everything bad in the past year. the kiss was short yet so passionate, you pulled away looking into his eyes and you felt a pair of eyes burning into your skull, you look across the room; your stomach dropping with a pair of familiar eyes looking at you with disbelief. you turn away bringing your date back to your table.

jude was hurt, you moved on to better things meanwhile he was left in the dark, he had no one else to blame but himself.

[waynes-multiverse]

Time After Time – Chapter 16

Summary: Unable to control your abilities, you’re stuck in the present with Billy Butcher, his team, and America’s first asshole. At this point, you’ve become Soldier Boy’s personal punching bag. But when an accident leaves you stranded in 1942, you run into a familiar face and suddenly rely on your future tormentor’s help as your only hope.

Pairing: Soldier Boy x supe!Reader

Warnings: 18+ for language, back in the present, SB being his charming self and every (bad) thing that comes with it, humor, pining, a bit of angst and hurt, enemies to lovers, slow burnin' through this one, fluff

Word Count: 8.1k

Posted on Patreon June 15, 2025

A/N: I'm a sucker for bottle episodes on TV and in stories. Give me two tortured characters sitting on the floor and having deep conversations, and I'll die happy.

✨ Chapter title inspired by me-e-ee

Main Masterlist || Series Masterlist || Tag List

Chapter 16: I Don't Care What the Papers Say!

Ben knocked once.

Hard enough to be heard, but not so loud it’d wake the whole damn block. Just loud enough to be undeniable. Just enough for you to know it was him.

No answer, but not surprising either.

He could hear you, of course. Super-hearing or not, Ben always knew the difference between silence and absence. You were in there, alright. Breathing slow. Still. Ignoring him like it was a full-time job. He didn’t even need to press his ear to the door. He could hear your heartbeat if he really focused. That steady, annoyed rhythm. Still close – but not coming any closer.

So he knocked again. Slower this time.

Still nothing.

He leaned a shoulder against the doorframe and exhaled. “Alright, I know you in there.”

No response again. Ben could hear the music, though.

Not loud. Not enough to be obnoxious. Just enough to make the old brownstone buzz faintly through the concrete. A record. Vinyl – not fucking digital. He could tell by the soft static and occasional warble.

It was some grunge shit. Female vocals, probably late 90s. Not his thing, but it fit. A little sad. A little angry. Just like you.

“I can hear you breathing, sweetheart. Don’t play dumb.”

Fuckin’ nothing.

Ben dragged a hand down his face, then crossed his arms. “C’mon, you’re really gonna make me talk through the door like a fuckin’ sitcom neighbor? You know I hate that shit.”

Still no response. Not even a bratty fucking comment. That stung more than he wanted to admit.

His knuckles softly tapped the wood once more. “You know, if you open the door, you can punch me again or at least slam it in my face. Tell you what, sweetheart – I’ll let you kick me in the crown jewels once. How’s that, huh? Hell, might even like it if it’s you, so don’t be surprised if I moan instead of flinch.”

A beat passed, and then finally:

“You’re not coming in,” you said, voice dry as paper.

“Figured,” he muttered and dropped down on the steps just outside your door. His back leaned against the frame and brick wall, one knee up, the other stretched across the concrete like he had all goddamn night. “Place still smells like cheap paint and lavender. But hey, at least it got character… and possibly black mold. Had to pick the shittiest apartment in New York, didn’t you?”

You still didn’t say anything, but he heard the quiet creak of the floorboards inside and your breathing just behind the door, measured and intentional – you were listening.

And sure, on some level, he knew this was fucking stupid. You didn’t want to see him. You made that clear when you told him to fuck off several times by now. But he couldn’t not be here – not after today.

Not after everything.

“Y’know, I liked it better when you yelled at me and threw me ‘round through time,” he said and let his head rest against the wood, shutting his eyes for a second. “Now I knock and don’t even get a ‘go to hell.’ Kinda hurtin’ my feelings, sweetheart.”

“You don’t have feelings,” you bit.

Ben smirked. There you were.

“I’m not here to fight, alright? Just figured if you hate me, I should at least fuckin’ show up for it,” he said and rubbed a thumb over a splinter in the wood.

“You gonna sit there forever?” you snapped. “Go away and leave me alone.”

“Not yet.”

“You’re wasting your time.”

“I don’t think so,” Ben replied, a smile curling on his lips. “You haven’t vanished yet, which means you don’t fuckin’ hate me as much as you think you do.”

“Don’t kid yourself. Me staying has nothing to do with you,” you argued. “This is my home. I like it here. I have friends here. If anyone should fucking leave, it’s you.”

“You can’t even remember most of this shit, including that little whine club of yours.”

You scoffed, and Ben suddenly remembered he wasn’t supposed to make you angrier. You were just making it so goddamn hard on him to hold back. And maybe that was your point all along.

“Hey, I can remember most of them again. It’s coming back. I know Annie and Frenchie and Hughie and Butcher–”

“Butcher ain’t your fuckin’ friend,” he cut in sharply.

“Why? ‘Cause he blackmailed me?” you asked. “I told you it wasn’t that fucking serious – and yeah, I remember that, too.”

“I don’t know. Sounds like a good enough reason to me,” he muttered.

“Everything’s a good fucking reason to you.”

And maybe you were right about that one. Because it surely wasn’t the only reason he wanted Butcher dead. The asshole had not only crossed a line by threatening you but also by threatening him with turning you against him.

Mostly, though, he hated to admit that it also may have been a reason he came to see you tonight. Why he couldn’t give you time and leave you fucking alone.

He had to talk to you before they fucking got to you and spewed all their poison about him.

Ben exhaled slowly. “Look, I know you’re mad at me. I get it. If I were you, I woulda done the same fuckin’ thing.”

You snorted a dark chuckle. “If you were me, New York would be leveled and burning right now.”

“Probably.” Ben pursed his lips, head bobbing. “Listen, I know this is about what happened last week–”

“Don’t.” Your voice cut him like a knife – cold, sharp, and warning.

Ben swallowed heavily. “I don’t wanna rehash it, alright? I just figured you need to–… I had to, okay? I had no choice. I had to push harder. You weren’t breaking, and I was runnin’ outta tricks. Outta time.”

“That it?”

“Yeah, that’s it,” he assured, even though your question sounded like a trap. He just didn’t know what would activate it yet. “I didn’t mean to–”

“Bullshit,” you snapped. “You did mean to. You meant everything. You don’t get to have a say in my life for over a year, treat me like a shit, corner me in my own fucking apartment, and then beg for forgiveness on my doorstep like it’s some goddamn romantic gesture.”

“Didn’t say it was,” Ben muttered, rubbing his palms on his thighs.

Well, shit. There went his plan.

He closed his eyes, took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, alright? You think that was fuckin’ fun for me?”

“Kinda, yeah,” you huffed bitterly.

Ben swallowed, nodding. “You really think I wanted this? Any of it? You know that I–…” He didn’t finish, just bit his lips, but you said it for him anyway.

“You were just like him.”

Ben licked his lips, then smacked them. “I know.”

“You’re supposed to protect me,” you added quietly.

“I know that, too,” he admitted and tilted his head back against the brick wall, staring up at stars through the city haze. “Still remember your face that night. It’s been livin’ rent-free in my goddamn skull ever since. You were scared… of me. I did that. On purpose, sure, but doesn’t mean I don’t hate myself for it.” He rubbed his jaw. The heat of shame burned at the back of his neck. “I wouldn’t have–… I wouldn’t have hurt you. You know that.”

“No, I don’t know that, because I don’t know you,” you argued. “I don’t even know if you’re telling the truth or lying through your fucking teeth right now because you’re still playing some sick game.”

Ben closed his eyes for another moment, exhaling a breath through his nose. “I’m not playin’ a game.”

“I. Don’t. Believe. You,” you said and slowly pressed each word out with purpose.

He swallowed the thick lump in his throat. “What d’you want me to say, huh? Just tell me what it fuckin’ takes. Fine, alright? Maybe it was more than a little pretense that night. Maybe I was a jealous asshole and a little rougher than I intended. There, I said it. Fuckin’ happy now?”

“None of this makes me fucking happy!”

“Makes fuckin’ two of us,” Ben scoffed under his breath and rolled his eyes slightly. He waited till the sting in his chest subsided before continuing, “But you still gotta believe me – I wouldn’t’ve hurt you.”

Silence. Fucking crickets. He didn’t know if that was good or bad.

He banged his forehead softly against the door. “Please open it.”

“No.”

Sure, he could’ve kicked it in a while ago, but he figured he’d probably be making the wrong point. Aside from that, you sure as hell would either freeze him, toss him into some historical catastrophe, or disappear from the face of the Earth.

“You think I’ve been stuck on what you did this past year, but it’s not just that,” you continued. “I’ve been trying to figure out how much of what you became over the last eighty years is real… and how much is just for show.”

Ben huffed a humorless chuckle. “Yeah, not sure ‘bout that one, either,” he muttered quietly. “If you find out, lemme know.”

You didn’t say anything, but the record kept playing. The needle scratched faintly as the song faded to its last few bars. Then, he heard you lifting and flipping it.

Side B – fitting.

Your weight inside moved again, heartbeat getting closer. There was a creak of old wood and the rustling of fabric as you seemed to be sitting down on the floor just on the other side of him. If the door disappeared, he could imagine your knees touching. There were no attempts at footsteps or even the door chain shifting, but at least you hadn’t vanished yet.

You were still here – listening.

Ben’s eyes then drifted to the box next to him, resting a hand on the taped-up lid. “I brought your stuff, by the way. Kept it all. Your shoes, that busted old notebook full of chicken scratch equations, the movie projector you made me, even that shirt that didn’t make sense to me till ’69,” he listed, chuckling softly. “I saw you there. At that concert, y’know?”

“You did?”

“Yep. You were gettin’ high with some college kids. Even followed you,” he added.

“Oh, yeah, those kids were so nice. I think they were a throuple. Not sure, but definitely polyamorous,” you mused behind the door. “I left when the topic of an orgy came up. But they gave me LSD. Was my first time doing it.”

Ben’s mouth opened and closed. “Explains a few things,” he murmured lowly, his eyes swerving back to the box. “You know, I thought about burnin’ all this shit several times over the years.”

“Why didn’t you?”

Because you left. Because he didn’t know if he’d see you again. Because it still smelled like you.

He let out a quiet chuckle. “Don’t know. Just couldn’t do it.”

There was silence again on your side, even the song ended. But another started – same tone with a different flavor of ache.

“You can leave it outside,” you said.

“I’d rather hand it to you, if that’s alright.”

“It’s not.”

“Right.” Ben let out a deep sigh. “Got you something else, too. But it’s a surprise. Gotta open the door first, though. Only got about one more hour left, too.”

“Great, so it comes with a countdown,” you huffed, and Ben imagined you even rolled your eyes with it. “Please tell me it’s not you exploding.”

He snorted, amused. “Nah, not the kinda explosion I’ve planned for you, sweetheart.”

“Ew! Why?”

“C’mon, it was right there. Can’t serve me like that,” he replied, chuckling.

“You’re not making a good case for yourself,” you murmured.

“You used to love it when I made those fuckin’ jokes,” Ben noted, laughing a little as a memory popped into his head. “Once made you laugh so hard you snorted your soda through your fuckin’ nose.”

“That was different.”

“How so?”

“It just was.”

You had always been a fucking challenge. Didn’t matter what he’d tried – making you his lover or his enemy.

“I liked who you were then,” you added after a beat.

Ben was quiet, and for a while, the city filled the space between you – the hum of traffic two streets over, someone slamming a cab door, a dog barking faintly from a second-story window.

“Look, uhm, I don’t know how much of that guy’s still in here, but I think some of him is,” Ben said finally. “Specially ‘round you.”

“Coulda fooled me,” you scoffed sharply. “You don’t get to act like you care now.”

That one hit harder than he expected, but he didn’t defend himself either. What was the fucking point? No matter what he said, you didn’t believe him. You never would again, would you?

“I’ll go, okay?” Ben said then and heard your weight shift behind the door. “I’ll leave you alone if that’s what you want. I just need to ask you somethin’ first.”

A beat passed before you responded.

“What?”

Ben took a breath and swallowed. “Back at the office, you said you trained, so how long–, uhm, how long have your powers been back? I mean, did you leave on purpose… that night?”

There was nothing but silence – heavy, cruel, and suffocating – till the lock clicked. The door cracked open a moment later.

And there you fucking were again.

His heart stopped when he saw you. Still on the floor, back leaning against the wall next to the door, drowning in a Blondie tee, damp hair from a shower, bare legs stretched out over the old wooden boards. You looked better than you did in the afternoon. Tired as fuck, but better.

“Hey,” he said softly, like you were a deer in a sunny clearing he didn’t want to scare back into the dark woods.

“Hey,” you parroted with the same softness in your voice.

Ben could see it then – you didn’t hate him anymore. Not like you had. You were pissed and mad and five different flavors of disappointed, but you didn’t want to drown him in a volcano any longer.

You swallowed and averted your gaze to your fumbling fingers in your lap. “I was stuck. Nothing was working, no matter what I tried. But, uhm, I got the freezing thing working again after a few weeks,” you explained slowly. “I didn’t leave on purpose, though. I told you.”

“You told me a lotta things.” He smiled weakly. “Most of ‘em lies.”

“I know. I’m sorry,” you said quietly and kept your eyes focused on the floor in front of you. “Kinda the reason I got scared and panicked. I didn’t know how to tell you. Didn’t know what the future would look like. Not until I figured out it was a loop.”

He leaned his head back against the door. “You always had secrets. I knew that much. You’d look at me sometimes like you knew how everything ended.”

“I guess I did,” you admitted. “On some level.”

Ben swallowed thickly, nodding. “So what was the plan? You were never gonna say anything?”

“No, I would have. I think… I wanted to,” you replied. “Just didn’t know when… or how. I was scared you were gonna–…”

You didn’t finish.

“What? Kill you?”

You shook your head and met his eyes. “No, leave.”

“I wouldn’t have.” A sad smile twitched on his lips. “So you really didn’t wanna leave?”

“No.”

The word was barely audible over the music, but he still would’ve heard it even if someone was standing next to his ear with a jackhammer.

A humorless chuckle escaped him. “You know, I always figured I drove you off that night. Wasn’t exactly subtle.”

“No, you weren’t. You never were,” you said, but it wasn’t mean. There was a faint smile on your face.

“Never did get an answer, though,” he noted, swallowing. “Still waiting, y’know. Still wonderin’.”

You looked at him then for a long moment. “Not sure you deserve an answer now.”

“Me neither.” He smiled a little. “Give it to me anyway?”

But you shook your head and averted your gaze again. “I didn’t mean to fall for you, you know? Didn’t mean to hurt you, either.”

He huffed a small laugh. “Funny how that works, huh?”

“I would’ve said yes. I wanted to,” you said then, taking him by surprise. He hadn’t expected an answer. Not when he asked it now and not when he’d asked it back then.

For a while, he didn’t know what else to say. Didn’t know what to ask that would magically make this all better and fix it. What words were significant enough to bandage a wound this big?

Ben exhaled slowly. “Why haven’t you gone back yet?”

You blinked at him, brow close to reaching your hairline.

“You could, right? You have your powers again. You could go back right to that moment before it all went to shit,” he clarified.

You were quiet for a beat. “I could. Thought about it.”

Ben’s head bobbed thoughtfully. “But you haven’t, right? Otherwise we still wouldn’t be sittin’ here.”

“No, guess not…”

“Why?”

You found his eyes, and he could see the tears gleaming in yours. Then you gave a weak shrug of your shoulders. “‘Cause it wasn’t real.”

His jaw clenched. “Don’t fuckin’ say that. It was. It was real.”

“It was a lie. A fantasy,” you argued softly. It wasn’t cruel – just honest. “I’m not saying my feelings weren’t real. They were. But everything else? It would’ve collapsed. It was inevitable… like entropy. We were drifting from order to chaos. From warmth to cold.”

“You don’t know that,” Ben countered.

“Maybe not,” you admitted and looked at him again. “But it’s not just up to me. Not anymore.”

His brow furrowed. “What d’you mean?”

“It’s your life. You should make the decision,” you told him.

Ben sat with that for a while, let the words sink in, even though he barely understood them.

“You should go.”

“What?” Your brow raised like you hadn’t anticipated that answer.

“You love m–… him, right? So you should be with him,” Ben said, although the answer almost broke him.

You didn’t love him. Probably never would. At least not this version of him, so what was the point of holding on? He could get a redo. Maybe even the life he always wanted.

“It’s not that simple,” you said. “The whole world would change. You would change.”

He snorted bitterly. “Might be for the best,” he muttered. “You’d make sure I wouldn’t cross a line or lose myself along the way like I did without you there.”

“I don’t think you understand the implications of it,” you noted. “You don’t know what happens to you – this you.”

He gave a shrug. “I stop existing, right? Just fade away like Marty’s hand.”

You smiled, but it was a sad one. “Maybe. If I go back and stay, the future might rewrite itself, including you. So, yeah, this you would stop existing and get replaced by a new version of you. But there’s another option,” you explained. “If I go back, it could just start a new timeline. An alternate one. Which means this one would still exist. I’d just be gone from it.”

Ben’s lips twitched, head bobbing. “So either I stop existing, or I’d be here alone forever. That what you’re saying?”

You nodded slowly.

He didn’t love that answer. You happy with some other version of him, while he was stuck in eternal misery, forever missing you. He wasn’t sure if he could do that – give up on you like that. And maybe that was fucking selfish of him. He knew it was.

“You’d save a lot of people. Probably,” you added like you were making a pro and con list. “I ran different scenarios, you know? Like simulations in my head of what could happen. Tried to find the right path that would yield the most benefit.”

Ben cocked an eyebrow. “That what you were doing in the shed?”

“Mostly.” You gave a half-sure nod. “I tried to find out how it works. What theory was true.”

“And?”

You twitched your shoulders. “Inconclusive. Never could figure it out.”

He huffed quietly, shaking his head. “All these theories and you never thought it was a loop?”

A small smile flashed on your lips. “No, I did. It crossed my mind,” you admitted and swallowed. “Was just the one I liked the least. Because it not only meant that I couldn’t change anything but that I was also the cause for everything.”

“And me,” Ben added and met your confused stare. “I sent you back. So I caused it too, right?”

You exhaled musingly. “I guess so. Maybe.”

Ben’s brows drew together. “So who started it? You or me?”

You shrugged again. “I don’t know. My guess is as good as yours.”

“Yeah, but there’s gotta be like… a starting point, right? A first one?” he asked and saw you hold back an amused laugh. “What?”

“It’s a circle,” you said like it would explain everything.

It fucking didn’t.

“Does a circle have a beginning or an end?” you asked in that certain tone of yours he knew all too well – the teacher voice. “The answer you’re looking for is no, by the way.”

“Smartass,” he scoffed, shaking his head. “They didn’t teach all that futuristic shit yet in my school.”

“What, geometry?” You snorted in amused disbelief. “I’m pretty sure they did. You just weren’t paying attention.”

“Yeah, whatever.” He rolled his eyes back. “But there’s gotta be an original version that looked different than all the others, right? Or a version of me that never knew you at all.”

You arched an eyebrow. “Jesus, how much have you been thinking about this?”

“A lot. Yeah,” he admitted and cleared his throat. Smiled even. “So? What’s the working theory, Doc?”

“I don’t know. Probably?”

Ben’s brow wrinkled. “You ever gonna give me an answer tonight that doesn’t sound like it’s comin’ straight outta a Magic 8 Ball?”

You snorted, that little mischievous smirk curling on your lips. “Ask again later.”

“Funny.” He snorted a laugh, but he tried not to be too loud or move too much.

He’d noticed it a while ago – how the tension faded from your muscles, how the smiles kept creeping in. It was like you weren’t even aware you were still supposed to be angry and hurt. You were just doing it subconsciously – talking to him, laughing with him, falling into a pattern with him you’d grown accustomed to over the last few months.

Ben knew better than to point that out and burst it, however. He just enjoyed the bubble. Didn’t want it to end. Didn’t want you to wake up from your trance. Scared you’d realize then that he wasn’t the same guy anymore.

So he said nothing and kept the conversation flowing, hoping you wouldn’t catch on for the rest of both your lives. A man could fucking hope, right?

“Hmm,” he hummed and feigned contemplation. Then he smirked. “So, technically, that means the original timeline could be me being on your little history backstage pass, and you payin’ me a visit, right?”

You snorted. “Unlikely. You were never on that list.”

“Oh, but fuckin’ JFK is on it?”

You laughed loudly at that. “Are you still seriously hung up on that guy? He’s been dead for decades. Most likely because of you.”

“Hey, I had nothin’ to do with that.”

“Legend said you did,” you countered.

“That old prick with that coked-up brain doesn’t know what the fuck he’s talkin’ about,” Ben muttered. “That shit about Normandy wasn’t true either, was it? I mean, you saw, right?”

“Oh, I remember when you made me prove Hughie and I were wrong. Watched you throw a whole-ass tank at like forty Nazis,” you replied wryly.

“Yeah, you’re fuckin’ welcome,” he huffed and only snapped out of his internal rant when he heard your soft giggles.

“How do you even know about my list? I know I never told you about that,” you said then, your brow scrunching into little creases.

“Oh, you sure as hell didn’t, sweetheart.” Ben smirked wide and lazy. “But your so-called friends were real fuckin’ chatty today.”

“Great,” you sighed, then found his eyes. “So what now? Do you want me to go back?”

Ben pursed his lips for a moment. “Can I think about it?” he asked quietly, foot tapping against the concrete below it.

You gave a shrug of your shoulders. “Sure. Time’s not really relevant. Not for us, anyway. Could tell me tomorrow or a hundred years from now. Literally doesn’t matter.”

Ben didn’t respond right away. Just looked at you. “Do you wanna go back?”

He for sure thought you wanted to. He thought there could only ever be one answer, almost rendering the question redundant in the first place. You loved the past version of him. That guy could still give you a future and a life you were worthy of. Why wouldn’t you want that?

But your answer took him by surprise.

“No,” you said and didn’t break his gaze. “I don’t.”

Ben’s brow knitted. “Why?”

“I don’t think there’s a version of us that gets to live the perfect dream life. Where we get everything we ever wanted,” you said. “It’s not how life works. Was just a glitch in the matrix. It was nice while it lasted, though.”

Ben licked his lips, not knowing what he could say to convince you otherwise. “I don’t think that’s true. I think we would’ve been happy,” he said. “I woulda made sure you were.”

You turned your head to look at him. “I was, and you did.”

Ben nodded and bit the insides of his cheeks. “So if you don’t wanna go back, why you offerin’?”

“I ruined your life. Only fair you at least get a say in how I do it this time,” you replied, shrugging.

Ben then met your eyes. “You didn’t ruin shit.”

You lifted an eyebrow in disbelief. “Really? Not even a little?”

He huffed a snort. “Maybe a little,” he teased, smirking. “But kinda ruined me in the best way, sweetheart.”

You didn’t say anything to that, just leaned your head back against the wall and stared at the ceiling fan for a while.

“You know,” you said then, “if I do go back, Russia never happens. You wouldn’t have to go through that.”

Ben’s lips twitched, almost in amusement. Oh, he thought about it, alright. Surely was fuckin’ tempting.

“Yeah? You sure you wouldn’t sell me out to the fuckin’ Commies next time you get pissed at me again?” he blurted out before stopping himself.

You inhaled sharply. “No,” you assured. “And I’m sorry, okay? That was–…”

“A dick move?” Ben supplied with a cocked brow.

You smiled. “Yeah, big time.”

“‘S fine. Deserved it,” he muttered under his breath.

“No, you didn’t,” you insisted with that same fucking softness in your eyes he’d always seen in you. “Which is why I’m sorry.”

There was silence between you again, but it wasn’t heavy and loaded anymore. It was comfortable. Calm. Familiar.

“So what now?” Ben asked then. “What happens if you stay here?”

“What do you mean?” Your brows scrunched again, and he didn’t like that tone in your voice – that finality in it.

“You still love me, or is this the courtesy break-up talk you’re granting me?”

You looked at him but didn’t respond. Just dropped your head back against the wall after a moment and closed your eyes.

“My parents aren’t dead,” your voice broke the silence and made his brows raise.

“I know time doesn’t fuckin’ matter to you, and you can see dead people or whatever, but death still fuckin’ exists.”

“No, I know that,” you said. “They’re not dead. They’re in Alaska.”

His brow shot up. “Alaska? But–”

“I did bring them to 1349, and I did leave them there,” you stated and bit your lip. “For about three years. Then I went back. For them, only five minutes had passed. Still scared the shit out of them.”

“So what? They fled to fuckin’ Alaska?”

“No, I dropped them there and told them not to come back, or I’d leave ‘em in the Middle Ages for good next time,” you shared, pulling your legs up and leaning forward on your knees.

“Recognizin’ a pattern here…”

You huffed a chuckle. “I guess so. But that’s not why I’m telling you this.”

“Why are you telling me?”

You swallowed. “They weren’t all bad, you know? I kept thinking about that. I mean, sure, they were addicts, and they didn’t really want me, but they had these phases… Every once in a while, they tried to get clean, and everything was just suddenly fine.“

Ben could see the tears collecting in your eyes and the lump forming in your throat.

“We’d go on these family trips,” you continued, laughing softly. “Once saw Salem Sue. You know that huge cow in North Dakota? And they’d also pick me up from school and take me for ice cream or pizza or to the mall. Stuff like that. They tried, you know? For a while, they did at least.”

Ben’s heart flared up at the sad smile twitching on your lips, however. His gut churned, like it already knew where the story was headed and what morals would be drawn from it.

“That was the thing, though. It never lasted,” you said. “Sometimes it was a week. Sometimes even a few months. At first, I got really exited. Happy ‘cause I finally had parents who gave a shit, you know? And I figured maybe we could be normal now. But it was always a phase. It wasn’t forever. Eventually, they’d go right back to being the shit parents they were, and I stopped expecting them to change. Stopped being hopeful and excited whenever they had good days because I knew it wouldn’t stay.”

“This isn’t a phase,” he said softly. Kept his eyes on you like it might convince you. “It’s not going anywhere. It’ll stick. I’ll stick.”

“Sure.” You nodded slowly and pressed your lips into a tight line, then gave a weak smile. “Think I haven’t heard it all before? I know all the words in the Book of Addict.”

That cut deep. Trust never came easy to you, and he’d already managed to break it several times.

“I’m not–” Ben didn’t finish. Just looked at you and swallowed around the thick lump in his throat while every cell in his body vibrated. He clenched his fists to stop the tremble in his hands – the constant buzz.

“You’re not, what?”

Ben ground his jaw. “I’ve been clean. I haven’t touched this shit in months.”

“You just made me buy pills and coke two weeks ago,” you said. “Called me at 3AM. Remember?”

“I didn’t take it,” he insisted. “I fuckin’ flushed it, alright? Gave it out as party favors. Just called you to keep you busy. Nothin’ more to it.”

And it was fucking true. Sometime shortly after Vought tower and Homelander, he’d stopped. He hadn’t used for forty years anyway, and he didn’t need the hallucinations of you anymore either because the real you had been right fucking there.

You leaned back against the wall with a sigh – unbothered and unaffected. “If you’re waiting for applause, you’re wasting your time. I’ve learned not to clap till the show’s over.”

He scoffed quietly, nodding. It was no fucking use, was it? Were you ever gonna believe him again?

“Don’t trust me? That’s fine,” he said, jaw aching from how hard he’d been grinding it. “I know you’re fuckin’ disappointed in me. Hell, I am too. But I’ll fuckin’ show you.”

“Guess we’ll see,” you replied, barely audible.

“Didn’t have collateral this entire year, either,” he added like that piece of information would finally convince you. “Not a single asshole died that didn’t deserve it.”

You snorted a laugh. “You’re not serious right now, are you? You woke up in this century with a fucking kill list and unchecked PTSD. You killed like fifty people in the first week.”

“After,” he countered. “After the tower. After you woke up from your fuckin’ coma, I stopped, alright?”

“Yeah, ‘cause everyone on your list was already dead,” you argued.

“Trust me. There’s more,” he rasped.

Stan Edgar. Butcher. Your parents. They were on his fucking hit list now, too. But he knew better than to say it out loud.

“Right.” You clicked your tongue.

“I didn’t explode today if you haven’t fuckin’ noticed. I’ve got it under control,” he argued further. “Even goddamn apologized to MM a year ago. Did he tell you?”

“He did.” You gave a small nod. “Did you actually fucking mean it, though?”

“I did,” he gritted through his teeth. “What d’you wanna hear, hm? I did horrible shit, alright. None of it I can fuckin’ take back. And I fuckin’ paid for all of it. Deserved it, too. But I swear to God I won’t let you fuckin’ down again. I won’t.”

You stayed quiet for a heartbeat, licking your lips, head bobbing. Then you met his eyes. “I think you should go,” you said so fucking soft and gentle like those words didn’t rip his heart straight out of his chest.

“Sweetheart, please.” He hated begging, but for you, he’d be devoutly on his knees for the rest of his goddamn life.

Your fingers curled around the edge of the door, ready to close it, but he stopped it, pushing his hand against the wood to keep it open. His mind, his gut, and his heart screamed at him that it’d never open again once it shut. He couldn’t let that fucking happen.

“Ben…”

You didn’t say his name in anger or annoyance. Your voice was just heavy with a tiredness that seemed to have seeped into your bones.

“Just a little longer? Please?” He stared at you till he saw the tiniest nod and you dropped your hand from the door with a sigh.

“Guess I’m Jeannie today. Just granting wishes left and right,” you muttered.

Ben lifted a brow. “Like I Dream of Jeannie Barbara Eden?” He grinned then. “Man, I loved that show.”

He didn’t mention he fucked Barbara Eden once at the Chateau. Thought it was best to keep that to himself.

“Well, don’t expect me to call you ‘master,’ Captain,” you huffed wryly.

“‘S fine. Eden didn’t do that either,” he muttered under his breath.

Your brow furrowed. “What?”

“Nothin’,” he said quickly, clearing his throat.

You motioned with your chin to the box next to him. “That my stuff?”

Ben followed your gaze, gave half a shrug. “Uh, well, not just your shit. Just stuff from our time together in general. You ain’t gettin’ that projector back.”

You snorted in amusement, then crossed your arms and smirked challengingly. “What kinda stuff did you keep in there?”

He pursed his lips. “Uh, you know, just memorabilia.”

“Like what?”

He scowled, seeing you barely hide the grin at this point.

“If you tell me you kept old movie tickets from our date nights in there, I’m gonna call you a sentimental sap,” you teased.

The frown deepened. “Maybe I just hand ‘em to you separately.”

You stretched your neck slightly to look behind his torso. “What’s in the little box on top?”

“Ah.” A slow smirk curled on his lips. “That’s your little surprise.”

You arched an eyebrow. “You really think bribery’s gonna work?”

Ben took the small, pink box and held it out to you. “Just open it.”

You kept your little glare on him as you took the box before carefully opening the lid and peeking inside it as if he’d hidden poisonous snakes in there. Then your brow furrowed, head tilting in question.

“Cake?”

“Still your birthday for–,” he checked his watch, “–another twelve minutes.”

A frown.

“What d’you think you’re doing? This isn’t Sixteen Candles.”

“Didn’t say it was. Just wanted you to have cake on your birthday,” he said and twitched his shoulders almost innocently.

You inhaled sharply. Bit the inside of your cheeks.

Ha. That one got you.

“If you let me in, I can you show you what’s in that box while you eat cake,” Ben added.

“Let me in, children. Your mother has something for each and every one of you,” you said, your voice high and sweet and filled with bubbles of laughter.

Ben’s brow knitted. “Is that from a Grimm fairy tale?”

“Yup.”

“Huh,” he hummed. “My mother read those to me.”

“I know.”

“Right.” He clicked his tongue. “Forgot I told you that.”

“Yup,” you said again and popped the p. Your gaze, however, wasn’t on him but focused on the tips of your toes. “Moral of the story, though, I let you in, and you’ll eat me.”

Ben bit his lips hard, holding the fucking smirk back. Oh, he’d eat you, alright.

“Don’t,” you warned – cute little glare and all. “The way this has been going so far, I know once you’re inside, you’re never gonna leave, and then I have to leave, and I don’t wanna leave my apartment, so you’re staying out.”

Ben nodded, then smacked his lips. “Convincing.”

You exhaled a long sigh, he blinked, and then suddenly, you were skimming through pages of your notebook in concentration, still in the same spot you used to be like nothing had changed, the box next to him gone and now next to you.

Well, shit. He’d overplayed his fucking hand.

“What’s in there anyway?” he asked. “Never could fuckin’ read it.”

“That’s the point,” you replied without glancing up.

“Looks like fuckin’ hieroglyphs,” he muttered with a scoff.

“It’s a secret language I invented when I was six,” you shared. “I started keeping travel journals after the first few jumps, so I could keep track of everything. The different writing system functions as a fail-safe in case someone steals it or I accidentally leave it somewhere.”

“Huh. And what’s this one say?”

“Uh, it’s some equations, journal entries, memories from the future I wrote down before forgetting, which is why I need this now,” you said, turning pages like you were searching for something specific.

“Anything ‘bout me in there?”

“Everything’s about you in there.”

You still didn’t look up when you said it. Didn’t sound sentimental or even gentle. Just presented it as a fact.

He gestured toward the currently opened page in your lap. “What does this one say?”

“Oh, uhm…” You hesitated, brow knitting like you weren’t sure you cared to share it. “It’s from that day at the lake in May. The one where I pushed you off the dock.”

Ben laughed softly. “Remember that one. Wanna read it to me?”

You looked at him, then let out a breath. Slammed the notebook shut. “No, look, I’m tired. I’ve been awake for over thirty hours and this birthday has lasted close to six months. I’m basically jet-lagged. Can you just get to the point? Why are you here?”

Ben licked his lips and leaned back against the wall. His eyes found yours. “You already know why I’m here. Can’t tell me that you don’t. Just tell me what you want, and I’ll do it.”

“I already told you what I want, and you’re not listening again,” you said, voice sharp as a whip. “Leave me alone. You hovering doesn’t help. I swear to God you’re the worst ex-boyfriend ever. I want time. That’s what I fucking want.”

Ben’s mouth opened and closed, green eyes flickering. The fucking thought alone was making his chest hum alive.

“I don’t want you to disappear again,” he admitted and swallowed around the lump in his throat.

You exhaled a deeply frustrated breath. “I’m not, alright? But only if you go now.”

He looked up the stairs leading to the street and away from you. “For how long? When can I come back?”

“Ben,” you sighed his name and rolled your eyes.

He nodded. Relented.

“Alright, fine.”

He rose from the uncomfortable concrete three minutes past midnight and glanced down at you one final time. “Happy birthday, sweetheart.”

You got back onto your feet as well, gave a nod, and the door closed.

Sleep was impossible.

No doubt, you were fucking exhausted. Tired in your bones, your blood, your heart, your goddamn soul.

But still – no fucking sleep.

As soon as you closed your eyes, your mind was racing. It wouldn’t shut off. And your heart? That was racing, too. Either from fear, yearning, or fucking both, you weren’t sure.

Ben was gone. Yet, he was still fucking everywhere.

You tossed. You turned. You sighed your frustrations at the ceiling and groaned into pillows. Counted sheep and listed the first one hundred decimals of pi. Still nothing.

It was too quiet or too loud. Too dark or too light. It wasn’t fucking home.

You hadn’t slept in this bed in months. Not really. And now, wrapped in its sterile warmth, blanket pulled up to your shoulder like armor, curled into a ball on the mattress like an Armadillo, you felt even farther from yourself.

Home felt like somewhere else now – in the bed you used to sleep and the guy you used to share it with.

Because not only were you struggling with your feelings, temporal jet-lag, and timelines – you also fucking missed him.

This wasn’t your bed. The spot next to you was empty. And nothing fucking smelled like him anymore.

No arms around you. No steady breathing next to you. Just emptiness – like entropy knocked on your fucking door tonight and invited itself in to stay.

Your muscles remembered another rhythm. Another routine. Another weight.

For five months, there’d been someone next to you. Someone you loved so much it fucking hurt. Now they were gone.

The worst, though? You thought you’d never get him back. Thought there was nothing left to rebuild. But after tonight, you weren’t quite so sure anymore. Tonight felt easy. Comfortable. Familiar.

It felt as if he was still there. Still him. Scraps of him buried under inches of shit, sure, but still.

You saw the flickers of light through the thicket. Saw not the supe, but Ben.

Twenty-three. Dumb as hell. Soft in the rarest places. Calloused hands that knew how to touch without hurting. A man who tucked you into his side like you were something worth keeping warm. A man who laughed in his sleep and sometimes pulled you closer without waking.

That was the rhythm you knew now. And without it, your own heartbeat felt wrong.

You shifted onto your back. Then your other side. Kicked the blanket off. Pulled it back on. Flipped the pillow. Nothing fucking helped.

He said he loved you. Then he said you were a liar.

He kept your things for eight decades. Then he pushed you away for a whole year.

And despite all the nightmares and the differences and all the cruel things he’d ever done or said, you still fucking loved him. God, that was the worst part.

You loved him. And Ben? He broke you open anyway.

Then it fucking hit – the first sob that clawed through your body like it had built since January of ’42.

The kind that crawled up your throat without warning. Ugly. Choking. Whole body shaking.

You curled into yourself, and it kept coming. Louder now. Guttural. The kind of crying that wracked your chest and made your teeth ache.

Everything fucking spilled out – the grief, the time, the loneliness, the betrayal.

You weren’t just mourning what he did.

You were mourning everything you thought you’d found in 1942 – all the people, the places, the versions of you that felt brighter and stronger and freer. You were mourning a life you couldn’t go back to. A home you’d built with hope and love, only to have it dissolve in a single blink of an eye.

You sobbed until you hiccupped.

Until the pillow was soaked beneath your cheek.

Until the silence swallowed you up again.

Until the knock came.

It wasn’t loud. Not like before. Three slow taps, almost reluctant – like he was giving you time to pretend you didn’t hear them.

Your breath hitched again. Your eyes, already raw, squeezed shut tighter. Like that might somehow undo the sound and make him disappear again.

Then came his voice – low and unsure in the night. “Can I come in?”

You stayed silent.

“Didn’t go far,” he admitted. “I heard you. Just wanted to check on you. Didn’t think you wanted me here. Still don’t, probably. But I’m askin’ anyway.”

You wanted to say something – to yell, to scream, to beg him to go or stay or hold you tighter – but your mouth wouldn’t work, and your chest was a collapsed building like a nuclear bomb had torn through it.

The words formed on your tongue, but your lips didn’t move.

“I’m gonna open the door now,” he gave you a warning shot. “If you don’t want me to, say somethin’. Don’t fuckin’ disappear on me, alright?”

You didn’t, and the door creaked open.

He stepped in slowly, boot steps soft for once. The smell of city air followed him in – summer heat and burning asphalt and different flavors of cuisine.

The couch beneath you dipped. The mattress creaked beneath his weight with carefulness. He didn’t reach for you right away. He sat still for a moment – like he was giving you one final out.

He always did.

And when there was no resistance, the warmth of his arm ghosted around your waist. Slow. Hesitant. Tentative. Like he expected you to pull away. Like he was afraid touching you might set the whole world off again.

You still didn’t stop him. You never did.

His chest then pressed lightly to your back. His hand settled just beneath your ribs – warm, solid, steady.

Fucking perfect.

“Hey, it’s me,” he whispered close to your ear, breath hot against your skin. “I’m still fuckin’ here.”

That was it – the fucking dam broke again.

You curled inward, sobbing so hard it felt like your lungs were trying to escape your body. Everything you’d buried – the grief, the fear, the ache of missing him – unraveled like a thread pulled too tight for too long, the seams of your heart giving way all at once.

Fury. Loneliness. Need – and somewhere in it, a kind of gut-deep relief that made your ribs hurt.

And Ben? He held you through it. He always did.

Didn’t say anything more. Didn’t try to fix it. Just anchored you with his body, impossibly strong and steady and safe behind you, grounding you to something fucking real in a world that was absurd.

He was gravity, and you were in free fall.

You pressed your forehead into your pillow and cried until there was nothing left but the sound of your own ragged breath. Ben’s nose buried in your hair, lips kissed your crown, arms wrapped around you tighter.

Eventually, your breath began to slow. Evened out into lazy waves.

You turned then in the arms around you – slow, cautious, unsure of what you were doing until your face found his chest, your palms flattened gently against him. Your body still slightly trembled like the aftershocks of an earthquake, but his warmth seeped through your skin and soothed it like a balm.

You looked up, and his eyes found yours instantly – quiet, wrecked, waiting. You searched his face like you were ensuring each freckle was still in place. He looked as tired as you felt, and he wasn’t armored now.

No sneer. No shield. Nothing cruel or smug or sure. Just him – the same guy who whispered dumb jokes in the dark to make you laugh and who let you fall asleep against his chest like he’d never let go.

Just Ben.

His hand lifted and brushed a tear from your soaked cheek. Then another. And another. His thumb lingered at your jawline, rough and gentle all at once.

His forehead touched yours, and you exhaled a soft, shaking breath. He tilted his head just slightly. Not pushing. Not rushing. Just waiting.

And you kissed him.

Soft.

Slow.

Salt still on your lips.

▶️ Chapter 17: The Stuff That Dreams Are Made of

A lot of you asked me "Omg, how are they ever gonna get back together after all of this and that brutal fight? Something big needs to happen." But I always felt like what they needed the most was a quiet night and no armor (or only little lol). Did you expect to end it there?

And for you angsty souls out there – don't worry. Something big's still coming that will either solidify their bond more or break it altogether 😉

Coming Up:

“You want me to leave?”

Your gaze drifted to the door, then back to him. You shook your head. “Actually, I was thinking about taking a drive.”

Ben lifted a brow in surprise. “Like a joyride?”

You scoffed a chuckle. “Trust me. There won’t be any joy.”

“Even better.” He smirked and watched you roll your eyes back.

“It’s a memory thing,” you shared and grabbed your nonsensical notebook from the nightstand. “Just have to check some things I wrote in here. See if it jogs anything.”

Ben bobbed his head, gave you a smirk – just a flicker of it. “You want company?”

You didn’t smile, but your voice came softer this time. “If you can behave.”

He chuckled low in his chest. “No promises, sweetheart.”

🚀 Read up to 4 chapters ahead on Patreon now

Tag List Pt. 1:

@alwaystiredandconfused @xlynnbbyx @lyarr24 @deans-spinster-witch @blackcherrywhiskey

@deansbbyx @foxyjwls007 @ladysparkles78 @roseblue373 @zepskies

@agalliasi @yvonneeeee @hobby27 @iamsapphine @globetrotter28

@lori19 @lacilou @suckitands33 @onlyangel-444 @syrma-sensei

@perpetualabsurdity @yoobusgoobus @jessjad @dayhsdreaming @hunter-or-the-hunted

@k-slla @just-levyy @mrsjenniferwinchester @illicithallways @muhahaha303

@ultimatecin73 @nancymcl @leigh70 @brightlilith @nesnejwritings

@samslvrgirl @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @fromcaintodean @barewithme02 @impala67rollingthroughtown

@star-yawnznn @spnaquakindgdom @thej2report @americanvenom13 @lamentationsofalonelypotato

@supernotnatural2005 @stoneyggirl2 @kr804573 @m0e0v0v @youroldfashioned

[windichimes]

ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ ɢᴏᴊᴏ ʜᴄꜱ

warnings: yandere themes, unhealthy relationships, threats

note: he’s so pretty and annoying and i’m weak for him 😞

art credit: ma10ba (twitter)

Limitless – Gojo Satoru

obsessive, possessive, annoying

Once Gojo enters your life, he becomes a permanent fixture. He’s everywhere, and wherever you go, you're bound to bump into him. It’s like he has a sixth sense (or eyes) that lets him know when you're out and about. As soon as you take a step into a public area, there he is, materializing out of thin air with a grin on his face.

He's shamelessly vocal about his affection for you too, and anyone who stands remotely close to is bound to get insights into your relationship. What’s more is he’s always clinging onto you at every opportunity. Walking? Might as well do it while holding his hand. Sitting on the couch? He's got you pulled against his side, and if he's in a mischievous mood, you'll end up in his lap with no means of escape.

It's not just private displays of affection either, Gojo is just as affectionate in public, if not more so. His hand always finds its way to touch you, whether it's wrapping around your waist, resting on your thigh, or simply brushing against your arm. He's clingy and possessive, always seeking your attention and affection. The worst, really.

He's the embodiment of perfection – the strongest – and he knows it. People would do anything to be in your place, he often tells you.

“Admit it, you're secretly finding me irresistible, aren't you? I can see it in your eyes. Go on, say it. Make my day.”

You're stunned into silence by his audacity, your eyes wide open in a mixture of bewilderment and surprise. For all his claims of having good vision, it seems he’s selectively blind to your glaring distaste of him.

“When was the last time you went to the optometrist?”

Gojo laughs before scoffing in mock offense, putting a hand to his chest in an exaggerated manner. His eyes sparkle with unabashed delight.

"I’ll have you know my vision is perfect, unlike yours, which is clearly clouded by your denial of your undying attraction to me.”

“No, I’m seriously worried–”

You’re interrupted when Gojo unceremoniously slings an arm over your shoulders, pulling you closer to his side. His touch is too comfortable for your liking, and he pinches your cheek with his free hand, a large, infuriating smile on his face.

"And it's not just your vision that's a little off," he chides, flicking your forehead lightly.

“Your memory, too. It’s like you’ve forgotten about what I said about sticking close to me.”

His smile becomes sharper, predatory, as he brushes his fingers lightly over your cheek, tracing a path towards your jawline before grasping your chin and tilting your face up to meet his gaze.

“Remember that next time. Kay?”

Gojo's mind can't comprehend rejection, it's a concept foreign and alien to him. From birth, he's been pampered and given everything he desires, so when you refuse to give yourself to him, it's as though you've thrown a wrench in the well-oiled machine of his world. At first, he's confused, uncertain of how to react to your resistance. However, he eventually comes to the conclusion that he can’t let you go. This realization is swift, and it's a chilling acknowledgement of the twisted dynamic that's taken root in your relationship. To Gojo, losing you is not an option, no matter the cost. In his mind, you belong to him, and he'll stop at nothing to ensure that you're firmly ensnared in his grasp.

You’re his, can’t you see that?

[svt-sena]

( 分解 ) 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐀 ✕ 𝐇𝐈𝐏-𝐇𝐎𝐏 𝐔𝐍𝐈𝐓

་ ﹟ ، Sena’s relationships with the HIP-HOP UNIT

౨ৎ﹒ノ synopsis: Sena’s relationship and dynamics with the Hip Hop Team of SEVENTEEN.

☁︎ leader. lover. besties. brothers. the ones who shaped her.

✧ Scoups. Mingyu. Wonwoo. Vernon. ✧

“They’re loud, they’re protective, they’re annoying — but they’re mine.” – Sena, in a VLive, smiling at the camera

✶ 𝐇𝐈𝐏-𝐇𝐎𝐏 𝐔𝐍𝐈𝐓 𝐗 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐀 — 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐋 𝐕𝐈𝐁𝐄 ✶

✧ She balances them. The chaos and the calm.

✧ She’s the only one who can get Seungcheol to rest, Wonwoo to laugh, Mingyu to shut up, and Vernon to talk.

✧ They treat her like she belongs—because she does.

✧ Four boys. One girl. No drama. All heart.

✧ S.Coups ✧

“He fell first & he fell even harder.”

౨ৎ﹒ノ Trope: Slow-burn. Leader x Muse. Lovers-to-lifelines.

౨ৎ﹒ノ Dynamic: He was the first to welcome her into Pledis. Protective. Quietly supportive. Always made sure she was okay without making it obvious.

౨ৎ﹒ノ Over time, she fell hard. He stayed silent. Until one year before confessing, when he admitted to Jeonghan:

౨ৎ﹒ノ Closeness: 10/10

౨ৎ﹒ノ Popularity: 10/10

౨ৎ﹒ノ Their song: at my worst — pink sweats

[Scene: Pledis Practice Room, 2012]

Sena sits cross-legged, drenched in sweat, hands trembling from the third round of choreography drills. The room is too quiet. She thinks she’s failed.

A water bottle lands next to her.

“Drink,” Seungcheol says, not unkindly. “And take a breath. You’re doing good.”

That’s how it started.

౨ৎ﹒ノ Ship Names:

→ CheolRin (most common)

→ SenaCheol

→ S.C. × Sena (fans love stylizing it this way)

౨ৎ﹒ノ SC♡NA

౨ৎ﹒ノChaeCheol (채철) – From Chaerin + Seungcheol

From the moment she walked through Pledis’s doors, Seungcheol made sure she was taken care of. Water bottles. Words of encouragement. A steady hand during shaky rehearsals.

She admired him from afar — the kind of admiration that turns into something deeper over time. But he? He was already gone. In silence. In loyalty. In love.

He hid it for years. Told no one. Until one day, he whispered to Jeonghan, “I’ve been in love with her longer than I should’ve. Watching her fall for everyone but me was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. But I’ll risk the friendship. I just want a chance.”

And when Sena heard it — she didn’t even need time.

Because if love had a sound, it was his voice in the studio telling her to drink water.

If it had a touch, it was his hand steadying her knees.

If it had a face, it was him — the one she never stopped choosing.

🖇 Favorite moment:

– The time Seungcheol fixed her mic mid-performance with the smoothest handoff in stage history.

– She didn’t flinch. Because she knew he’d be there.

✧ Wonwoo ✧

“He never needed to say much. He just showed up.”

୨୧.ノ Trope: Stoic x Sunshine. Silent protector. Game buddies. Unspoken bond.

୨୧.ノ Dynamic: They weren’t loud. They didn’t need to be. Wonwoo was the one who noticed when she slipped out of vocal practice early.

The one who saved her a seat at the back of the van.

The one who passed her a controller and didn’t ask questions.

They play in silence for hours — sometimes side by side, sometimes online, always in sync.

Sena trash-talks. Wonwoo pretends not to care — until he absolutely does.

She calls him a “laggy boomer.”

He responds by beating her with one move and casually saying, “Try harder.”

They argue over game strategies like it’s a war.

They accuse each other of cheating (neither of them ever actually does).

It’s chaos in the living room — controllers thrown on the couch, snacks spilled, voices raised.

But she always ends up laughing.

And he always ends up letting her win the next round.

“You’re so annoying.”

“And yet, you keep logging on.”

Over time, the games became their love language.

Late-night co-op sessions.

Silent comfort after hard schedules.

He didn’t say much. But she knew what he meant.

They weren’t soft in the kitchen either.

One birthday, they tried to bake cookies for Dino.

They confused sugar for salt.

The oven smoked. The fire alarm screamed.

Fans still bring it up on lives.

“You told me it was preheated!”

“I thought it was!”

“It was off, Wonwoo.”

“We don’t cook. We survive.” — Sena

୨୧.ノ Closeness: 9/10

୨୧.ノ Popularity: 8.5/10

୨୧.ノ Their song: illicit affairs — Taylor Swift

[Scene: Dorm Rooftop, 2016]

She was crying. Quietly.

Not loud. Not messy.

Just the kind of exhausted tears that fall after six hours of dance drills and zero progress.

He didn’t ask questions. Just sat beside her.

Handed over a peach soda.

“You like this, right?”

She nodded.

“You don’t have to say anything.”

“Good,” she sniffled. “Because I can’t.”

✦ Fun Facts ✦

She started playing games because she realized that was how they spent quality time together.

They are both banned from the SEVENTEEN dorm kitchen after nearly burning it down.

Fans have dubbed them the quiet chaos duo — “low volume, high intensity.”

When asked who her best gaming partner is, she replied:

“He plays like he lives. Quiet, smart, ruthless.”

He smiled the first time she beat him in a game.

But he demanded a rematch immediately.

౨ৎ﹒ノ Ship Names:

→ WoonRin

→ Chaewoo (채우)

→ SenaWoo

→ W♡NA

🖇 Favorite Moment:

– When she admitted she hated gaming at first but kept playing because, “It was the only way he’d talk for more than three minutes at a time.”

and Wonwoo just blinked and said, “She’s not wrong.”

✧ Mingyu ✧

“They fight like siblings. Laugh like fools. Ride for each other like it’s second nature.” aka: “Why are they always fighting?” couple

𖤐.ノ Trope: Chaotic besties. Golden retriever x sarcastic realist. ’97z soul twins.

𖤐.ノ Dynamic: Both born in 1997, they clicked instantly. He’s loud, playful, and always hungry. She’s calm, witty, and brutally honest. They fight like siblings, but always look out for each other behind the scenes. Their friendship is filled with food fails, inside jokes, and unspoken loyalty.

𖤐.ノ Over time: Their friendship went beyond fun. In 2022, when Sena quietly began suffering from anxiety attacks, it was Mingyu who noticed the signs. He didn’t push. He just sat beside her, let her cry without judgment, brought her chamomile tea, and reminded her to breathe. No cameras. No drama. Just him, being there.

𖤐.ノ Closeness: 10/10

𖤐.ノ Popularity: 10/10

𖤐.ノ Their song: “Friends” — BTS (Jimin & V)

✦ Kitchen Chronicles:

Sena can’t cook. Mingyu can.

So he decided to teach her — a mistake.

Sena stands frozen, staring at the pan. Smoke. A weird smell.

“Did you put sugar in the kimchi stew?” Mingyu blinks.

“I thought it was salt!” she yells.

Mingyu sighs, takes the spoon, and tastes it. “…This is a hate crime.”

🖇 Favorite Moment:

When she had a panic attack before a live stage, it was Mingyu who pulled her aside, helped her sit down, and quietly whispered, “You’re not alone. You never have to go through anything alone.” She went on stage ten minutes later and gave one of her best performances.

౨ৎ﹒ノ Ship Names:

→ MinRin (민린)

→ GyuChaer (규채르)

→ 97Line Duo ✧ (with The8 & DK — born in 1997!)

→ GyuRin

→ SenaGyu

→ Gyuna (규나)

✧ Vernon ✧

“You made Korea feel like home.”

𖤐.ノ Trope: Bilingual besties. Outsiders-to-anchors. Korean-American comfort zone.

𖤐.ノDynamic: Both born in the U.S. — Sena in Colorado, Vernon in New York. When she transferred to Pledis in 2012, Vernon, just a year younger, stepped in naturally. She was half-Korean but still struggled with the language. He helped without ever making her feel embarrassed. English when she needed comfort, Korean when she needed growth. No questions. No judgment. Just understanding.

𖤐.ノOver time: they became each other’s default. Conversations flipped languages without notice. They swapped playlists, rolled their eyes at awkward translations, and laughed at inside jokes no one else understood. She helped him remember his American roots; he helped her feel less lost in Korea.

𖤐.ノ Maknae Night Lore: Vernon was one of the first she told about her feelings for Seungcheol. It was during their monthly “Maknae Night” with Seungkwan and Dino—a tradition from their trainee days where they’d gather in someone’s dorm room, eat junk food, and rant about everything. That night, she sat curled on the floor in oversized sweats, eyes flicking between the three.

𖤐.ノCloseness: 9.5/10

𖤐.ノPopularity: 9.9/10

Especially after the infamous English V Live with Joshua that went completely off the rails. Fans still quote it. Switching between Korean and English mid-sentence. Vernon mimicking her British accent.

Sena: “Bro, stop.”

Vernon: “Wot? I’m just bein’ supportive, innit?”

Joshua: “I feel like I’m babysitting two toddlers.”

𖤐.ノTheir song: Home — SEVENTEEN

[Scene: Pledis Practice Room, 2013]

Sena stares at the lyrics sheet, frustrated. “Why does this word have five meanings?”

Vernon doesn’t even look up. “Because Korean’s an emotional minefield.”

She snorts.

He sets his phone down. “Want me to go over it with you?”

“Would you?”

“I got you.”

𖤐.ノ Ship Names:

→ Senon

→ Hansena

→ VER♡NA

→ VerChaer

→ NY2CO

→ ChaHansol (used mostly in memes)

→ Bilingual Duo (most used in interviews)

𖦹.ノ Extra Lore:

• They’re the unofficial English translators for SEVENTEEN, especially during international interviews.

• He calls her “British drama queen” whenever she gets extra. She mocks his New York accent. Fans eat it up.

• Their group chat with Joshua is called “the American line 🛸”

• She’s also part of the Chinese line with Jun and The8, which makes her Seventeen’s most chaotic bilingual connector.