#HES NOT SHIRTLESS THE EXPRESSION JUST FIT | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

stargrillzz · 29 days ago

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Can’t help it, he’s so cute

summary: Bucky, knowing the team needs a new place to hide, turns to the only person he knows will support him. You didn't expect him to bring an entire team with him.

note: OMG BOB IS SO CUTE. xoxo

The makeshift safehouse reeked of dust and distrust.

It was someone’s abandoned cabin off-grid in the middle of Wyoming—too many pine trees, not enough coffee. The floor creaked when Yelena shifted her weight, sitting cross-legged on a rickety table while eating sunflower seeds like she was born for the apocalypse. Ava was pacing like a caged animal near the window. John Walker had his arms crossed, leaning against the doorframe like he owned the place. Bucky sat in the middle of the room, elbows on knees, fingers threaded into his hair.

And Bob Reynolds… well. Bob stood shirtless in the corner, looking like an accidental god. His shoulders didn’t fit into normal space. His glowing eyes flicked around the room like he was still trying to figure out how reality worked. Or maybe he was just bored. Hard to tell with him.

“So what now?” Alexei grunted from the only real chair, arms stretched wide like a king. “We camp here and wait for the government to find us again? Bad plan. Terrible plan. I’ve been in Russian prisons with more dignity.”

“No one asked you,” Walker muttered.

“We need somewhere better,” Ava cut in, her voice sharp but tired. “Somewhere we can lay low. Where they wouldn’t think to look.”

“Well unless one of you has a vacation home in the Alps,” Yelena said dryly, “we’re pretty much screwed.”

Bucky didn’t move. His jaw ticked once, like a switch flipped in his brain. Slowly, he stood up, eyes distant. “I might know someone.”

That got everyone’s attention. Bob tilted his head, blinking once. Ava stopped pacing. Yelena actually paused mid-sunflower seed.

“You know someone?” Alexei asked.

“Who?” Walker asked, skeptical.

“Just—give me a minute,” Bucky said, already walking outside. He tugged his jacket tighter around him, heading into the cold with a phone already in his hand. His thumb hovered over a number he hadn’t dialed in a long time. Not because he didn’t want to—but because he wasn’t sure he should.

Your contact lit up his screen: Cutest Stark💋 Obviously you saved your contact under that name when you were helping Bucky use his new phone, he just laughed an decided keep it that way.

He sighed and hit call.

Meanwhile, in New York City…

In the gleaming kitchen of Stark Tower—your inherited kingdom—you stirred a bubbling sauce with one hand while balancing your phone between your shoulder and cheek. Morgan’s face filled the screen. She was giggling at something offscreen, probably one of the robots you still kept around.

“—and then I told him,” Morgan said between snickers, “if he thinks he’s smarter than me, he can explain why he just fell for the oldest prank in the book.”

You laughed, warm and full, moving around the kitchen barefoot in one of Tony’s old MIT sweatshirts. “God, you’re such a Stark it hurts.”

“I know,” Morgan beamed. “You taught me well.”

Before you could respond, a second call tried to interrupt. Your screen flashed with a name you hadn’t seen in weeks. Maybe months. James. F. Barnes.

You froze.

Morgan squinted. “Is that who I think it is?”

You smiled, heart stuttering, sauce forgotten. “Yeah. I—hang on, peanut.”

You switched the call, pressed video, and Bucky’s face filled your screen, framed by pine trees and late afternoon light. His hair was longer. His stubble thicker. He looked tired… but your name made him smile.

“Hey,” he said softly.

“Bucky!” You nearly dropped the spoon. “Oh my god, it’s so good to see your face. Where have you been? Wait—never mind, I don’t care. I missed you. Are you okay? Are you safe?”

He laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I missed you too. I, uh… I wouldn’t be calling if it wasn’t important.”

Your expression softened immediately. “Whatever it is, I’ve got you.”

“We’re in a tight spot. New team, no allies. We need a place to lay low for a bit.”

You didn’t hesitate. “You’re coming home.”

He blinked. “You sure?”

“Bucky,” you said gently, “I kept this place running for a reason. Your room’s still here. The tower’s secure. FRIDAY still knows your coffee order. Come home.”

He exhaled slowly, like the weight of the world finally slid off his shoulders. “Thank you.”

“You don’t even have to ask.” You paused, smirking a little. “But when you get here, you will have to explain why the hell it took you this long to call me. I mean, seriously. I thought you died. Again.”

He chuckled, that low, gravelly laugh that used to echo through the Tower halls. “I’ll make it up to you.”

“You better.”

Then your voice softened. “I can’t wait to see you.”

“Me too.”

The call ended, but your chest stayed warm. Morgan peeked back on the screen, smirking. “So… do I get to meet your war criminal boyfriend now?”

You groaned, but couldn’t stop smiling. “He’s not my—oh, shut up.”

Because yes, obviously, you always liked Bucky.

Who wouldn't?

It was just a crush though.

He was clearly a man who wasn't ready for anything with anyone, and you were a person who wanted everything with someone. Clearly, you weren't a good match. The point here, the sweet tone you used with him and the tender way you looked at him, was because he was your last lifeline. The last thing you had left connected to your father, Steve, Nat. Bucky is the last thing you had left, the only living proof that everything that happened really happened and wasn't in vain.

“We have a place,” Bucky said flatly, stepping back into the cabin’s main room. Everyone looked up.

Alexei blinked. “You do?”

“Yeah,” Bucky nodded, pulling his glove tighter. “It’s secure, off-radar, not government-controlled. We’ll be safe.”

Yelena narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “Where?”

He hesitated just long enough for them all to stare.

“…Stark Tower,” he finally muttered, and immediately regretted how that sounded.

Walker nearly choked. “You’re taking us to Tony Stark’s skyscraper? The Stark Tower? Didn’t that thing light up like a Christmas tree every time someone sneezed near Manhattan?”

“It’s under new management,” Bucky grumbled, grabbing his bag. “Let’s go.”

The quinjet landed on the private helipad atop Stark Tower at sunset, the entire skyline of New York painted in golden pinks and fire. The building glowed from within — a quiet kind of warmth, like someone had taken a monument of history and turned it into a real home.

The moment the team stepped into the elevator, surrounded by polished chrome and holographic glass panels, Bucky turned to face them all like an exhausted dad.

“Okay,” he said, lifting his hands. “I mean this — please. Behave.”

Yelena gave a little shrug. “You act like we are not capable of being polite.”

“You’re not,” Bucky shot back.

“Who exactly lives here now?” Ava asked, watching the floor numbers tick upward.

“That’d be…the older Stark,” Bucky said carefully. “Tony’s oldest daughter.”

The group went quiet.

“Oh,” Alexei said. “That Stark.”

“Wait wait wait,” Walker held up a finger. “Like Stark-Stark? The billionaire genius daughter of Iron Man who disappeared from public life after he—”

“Yes,” Bucky cut him off sharply. His voice lowered. “She was like family to Tony’s team. She stayed behind to keep the place safe. And she’s letting us stay, so try not to ruin it.”

Before anyone could reply, the elevator chimed — and the doors opened.

You stood there.

Hair soft and glowing in the evening light. Wearing leggings and a loose tank, barefoot but radiant, like the Tower itself breathed easier when you were in it. You held your breath the moment you saw Bucky, your eyes wide, lips parted, like you weren’t sure if he was real or a memory.

“Bucky,” you whispered.

He barely had time to register your name before you ran.

You launched into his arms like muscle memory, clinging to him with your face buried in his shoulder, and he caught you without hesitation, arms winding around your waist like it was the most natural thing in the world. His grip was tight, grounding, a little desperate.

“God, I missed you,” you murmured against his neck.

“I missed you too,” he said into your hair. “You look—Jesus, you look beautiful. You always do.”

You pulled back, eyes glossy but full of a grin. “You really ghosted me, Barnes.”

“I know.” He grimaced, brushing your cheek. “I’m sorry. I should’ve called. I’ll make it up to you. I promise.”

“You better.”

You finally turned your attention to the crew behind him, all still in the elevator like they were watching a rom-com unfold in real time.

“Wow,” you breathed. “You brought… everyone.”

He cleared his throat, hand still on the small of your back. “Right. Uh—guys, this is Y/N Stark. She’s letting us crash here.”

You smiled. “Welcome to Stark Tower, or what’s left of it. Now a semi-chaotic haven for misfit vigilantes, apparently.”

Alexei stepped forward and shook your hand with a grin. “Is honor to meet small Stark daughter.”

“Oh no,” you smiled. “I’m not small. I’m just the older sibling now.”

Yelena stepped out next, and the moment your eyes locked with hers, you froze mid-breath.

“…You okay?” Yelena asked gently, brow creased.

You nodded slowly, swallowing hard. “It’s just—Natasha… she was like an aunt to me. We lived here together. She’d braid my hair in the mornings. Seeing you—it’s like a part of her walked back through the door.”

Yelena’s gaze softened instantly. She stepped forward and pulled you into a quiet, firm hug. “She would’ve loved that,” she said into your ear. “And I think she’d be glad you’re still here.”

You clung to her a second longer than expected, heart full. Bucky smiled to himself, a weight lifted.

Then John Walker strolled forward, flashing you his best smug grin. “So… you’re telling me a gorgeous, genius Stark lives in a high-rise all alone? How’s that legal?”

Before you could answer, Bucky’s voice cut through the room like a blade. “Back off.”

Walker blinked. “What? I’m just saying hi.”

“Say hi to the wall,” Bucky muttered.

And then—

You turned.

And saw him.

Bob Reynolds stood awkwardly near the elevator’s edge, towering, golden-haired, built like a titan and blinking like he didn’t know where to put his hands. His eyes met yours, and then traveled—slowly, reverently—across every inch of you.

And then, aloud—without even realizing:

“…She looks like a goddess.”

Everyone went still.

Bob’s face froze. His mouth dropped slightly.

“Oh my god,” he whispered, eyes wide in horror. “I—I thought that. That was supposed to stay inside my head.”

You laughed, hand covering your mouth as your cheeks flushed. “You’re sweet.”

Bob blushed so hard it looked like his skin might combust.

“I—I didn’t mean to—like, you are, but—oh no, I should stop talking.”

“It’s okay,” you said, grinning. “You’re adorable. You can talk.”

He looked at Bucky for help. Bucky looked like he wanted to throw him off the balcony.

You clapped your hands. “Okay! Quick tour before someone combusts. Everyone gets a private room with a bathroom. There’s a training floor on level 12, a kitchen that doesn’t explode anymore thanks to FRIDAY, and a living space where you can yell at each other like a dysfunctional family. Just—don’t break anything expensive, or sentimental. Or, y’know, the structural integrity of the building.”

Yelena raised her hand. “Do weapons count as sentimental?”

“Only if they were gifted,” you winked.

---

It was late.

The kind of late where the city had gone quiet, even the Tower’s hum softened like it was tucked under a blanket. You were curled into the corner of the oversized couch in the common room, legs folded, one of Tony’s hoodies hanging loose off your shoulder. The only light came from the floor-to-ceiling windows, where the skyline blinked in a million tiny stars.

And Bucky was sitting beside you.

Not close enough to touch — not yet — but close enough that your knees almost brushed, that the weight of his presence filled the space in ways silence never could.

You smiled softly, looking out the window. “Morgan asked about you again today.”

He glanced over. “She did?”

You nodded. “She thinks you’re my boyfriend. Keeps insisting on it, actually. Says she’s seen the way I smile when you text.”

He huffed a laugh, shaking his head. “Smart kid.”

You bumped his knee. “She gets it from me.”

He looked over, finally meeting your eyes. His were tired, but soft. "I missed this. I missed you."

“I missed you too,” you whispered, and you meant it like it had been carved into your chest.

A pause stretched between you — not awkward, just heavy. Heavy with time. With words you hadn’t gotten to say.

“How’ve you been?” you asked gently.

He exhaled, leaning back. “Weird. Floating. Sometimes I feel like I’ve figured things out. Then I wake up and I’m right back where I started. The team helps, but… I’m still figuring out who I am when I’m not being used. When I’m not fighting.”

You nodded. “I get that.”

He looked at you for a long beat. “How about you?”

You hesitated.

Then you told the truth.

“I’ve been lonely.”

It came out quieter than you meant it to. You stared at your hands. “At first, it was just grief. For my dad, for Nat, for Steve—God, even Thor. I don’t know where the hell he is. Clint’s with his kids. Bruce is off somewhere being Bruce. Everyone left. Or died. And I… stayed.”

Bucky watched you like the world might shatter if he blinked.

You gave a small smile. “I kept this place alive, Bucky. I filled the Tower with warmth again, but it didn’t feel like home. Not without any of you here. So I got used to it. The quiet. The space. The ghosts.”

Bucky moved closer, slow and careful, like approaching a wounded thing.

“You’re not alone,” he said, his voice steady. “Not anymore. Not as long as I’m here.”

You looked at him.

“I mean it,” he whispered, reaching for your hand. His metal fingers brushed against your skin like he was still afraid to break it. “You and me, we’re gonna stick together.”

“‘Til when?” you asked, a small smile playing at your lips.

He squeezed your hand.

“‘Til the end of the line.”

You closed your eyes. That old phrase — it still made your heart ache in the sweetest way. You turned your hand to link your fingers with his, soft and sure.

And then you whispered back: “I’ll love you 3000.”

His breath caught.

And he smiled.

Like something lost had just come back to him.

Like a promise he’d almost forgotten was suddenly real again.

---

The training room of Stark Tower was nearly empty — just the quiet whir of air conditioning and the thud of your feet hitting the mat as you moved through a practiced series of kicks and strikes. You’d been at it for an hour, sweat glistening down your neck, your breathing even, controlled. The Tower’s AI, FRIDAY, had the playlist low in the background, something smooth with a beat you could punch to.

You weren’t showing off.

But you weren’t holding back either.

Your dad started your training when you were a kid — when you were still small enough to sit in the lap of one of his Iron Man suits. And when Natasha took over, it became second nature. Your body knew the dance of it. Every twist, every dodge, every controlled exhale.

And then—

You felt it.

The eyes.

You stopped mid-kick, chest rising and falling.

“…You know,” you said without turning around, grabbing a towel from the bench and dabbing your forehead, “if you’re gonna stare at me like that, the polite thing to do is say hi.”

A pause. Then a very deep voice stammered—

“I wasn’t—staring. I mean—okay, I was. But not in a weird way.”

You turned.

Bob Reynolds stood in the doorway, sheepish and impossibly sweet for a man who could melt steel with his pinky. His hair was tousled like he’d just run a hand through it out of pure nerves, and he was already blushing, even before you smiled.

You cocked your head. “That so?”

He blinked. “I mean—you were… doing that spin-kick thing. It was really impressive.”

You took a few steps closer, casually. Your sports bra clung to your ribs, the black fabric soaked in a way that definitely wasn’t helping Bob keep his thoughts PG. “Thanks. I’ve been training since I was little.”

He scratched the back of his neck. “I could tell. You move like a storm.”

You raised a brow. “That supposed to be a compliment, or a warning?”

His eyes widened. “Compliment! Definitely. A very respectful—intense—uh, not creepy compliment.”

You laughed, crossing your arms loosely. “Relax, Bob. I’m not gonna kick your ass.”

“…I’d probably let you.”

Your smile froze for a second, caught off-guard — and then widened.

“Oh?” you teased. “You into that sort of thing?”

Bob’s face went bright red. “N-no! I mean, I—I don’t know if I’m—uh, maybe? Oh god, I said that out loud again, didn’t I?”

You laughed so hard you had to brace your hands on your knees. “You really need a filter.”

He groaned, half-hiding behind a training dummy. “I swear I used to be cool.”

“I think you’re pretty cute like this.”

That got his attention.

He peeked out at you, blinking like he wasn’t sure you were being serious. “You… do?”

You took a step closer again, slow and smooth. “You’re like a golden retriever with godlike powers. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

Bob laughed, rubbing the back of his neck again, his voice a little softer. “Yeah, well… you’re like… if a goddess got bored of Olympus and decided to just casually ruin me on a Tuesday.”

You tilted your head, genuinely curious. “Ruin you, huh?”

He looked like he might spontaneously combust. “I—I mean emotionally. I think.”

You leaned in just a little. “You say the sweetest things.”

Bob’s breath caught as your fingers brushed his arm, just lightly.

Then you backed up, letting him breathe, and turned your attention back to the training mat.

“I’m done here,” you said, tossing your towel over your shoulder. “You coming?”

He blinked. “Coming where?”

You looked over your shoulder, your smile slow and teasing. “Kitchen. You owe me a smoothie. For the compliments. And the stare.”

Bob followed like a puppy. “Yeah. Yeah, I can do that. I make a killer smoothie. Or, like… an aggressively average one. But I’ll give it emotional effort.”

You snorted. “Just don’t explode the blender.”

“No promises.”

As the elevator closed behind you both, he looked at you again — still soft, still wonderstruck — and whispered, “You really are something else.”

You didn’t answer.

You just leaned a little closer, brushing his knuckles with yours.

---

The kitchen was full of sunlight and chaos.

Alexei was digging through the fridge like it personally offended him. Yelena was perched on the countertop, already eating cold pizza with no shame. Ava stood in the corner like a ghost who had opinions but refused to share them. John Walker was trying — and failing — to figure out how to use the espresso machine.

And Bob?

Bob was making pancakes.

Or attempting to.

“Is this… normal?” Yelena asked, watching with a crooked grin as Bob poured another lumpy circle of batter onto the skillet, half of it splashing onto the stove.

“It’s either breakfast,” you said, tying your robe a little tighter around your waist as you stepped into the room, “or a science experiment.”

Bob turned around at the sound of your voice and lit up. “You’re up!”

You smiled. “Didn’t think I’d sleep through a kitchen explosion.”

He beamed like you’d just handed him a Nobel Prize. “I made you pancakes!”

You walked over, inspecting the pile. “…You tried to make me pancakes.”

“They’re… heart-shaped?” he offered hopefully.

“They look like they’re bleeding.”

He laughed, bright and boyish, and you couldn’t help but laugh with him.

“Morning, sweetheart,” Bucky’s voice came from behind you — low, casual, watchful.

You turned just in time to catch him entering, hair still damp from the shower, black T-shirt clinging to his chest, dog tags tucked out of sight. His eyes flicked from you to Bob, then to the pancakes, and then back to Bob again.

His smile didn’t reach his eyes. “That for her?”

Bob straightened. “Yeah! I mean—yeah, I wanted to make her something. As a thank-you. For letting us crash here.”

Bucky’s tone stayed polite. Too polite. “Right. Real thoughtful of you.”

Bob swallowed, and you quickly stepped between them.

“He’s just being nice,” you said with a smile, brushing Bucky’s arm as you passed. “And I did promise to let him cook something after that smoothie yesterday.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow. “He cooked?”

“Well… he blended.”

Walker wandered in with a cup of badly frothed coffee. “We talking about Bob’s pancake massacre? I give ‘em 4 outta 10. Points for optimism.”

“You put ketchup on eggs,” Yelena muttered.

“That’s freedom flavor.”

You rolled your eyes and slid onto a stool, sipping the orange juice Ava had silently placed beside you. “Thank you, Ava.”

She nodded, her version of a hug.

Bob placed a plate in front of you, his proudest smile yet. “Okay. Taste test.”

You picked up the fork dramatically, took a bite… and paused.

Bob leaned in. “Well?”

“…It’s not the worst thing I’ve put in my mouth,” you said.

Yelena choked. Walker snorted. Bucky froze mid-sip of coffee, eyes locked on you.

You turned to Bob with a sweet smile. “That was not meant to sound that filthy.”

Bob, very red: “I—uh—I wasn’t thinking anything. I mean I was, but not that—well, okay, I was but I—”

Bucky stepped between you both, casually, placing a protective hand on your back and subtly guiding you away from the stove like it was radioactive.

“She doesn’t need to eat any more of that,” he said firmly. “I’ll cook something decent.”

“Hey,” Bob protested. “They’re edible!”

“Barely,” Bucky muttered, already cracking eggs into a bowl. “She deserves real food.”

You leaned on the counter, grinning at him.

“Overprotective much?”

He glanced at you sideways, his voice dropping low enough that only you could hear. “You’ve had enough men treat you like something to win. I’m not letting him be one of them.”

You stared at him, heart skipping just a bit.

“…You know I can take care of myself, right?”

“I know.” He handed you a fork. “Doesn’t mean I won’t still try.”

You bit your lip, hiding a soft smile.

And Bob — poor Bob — watched you both with a mixture of awe and panic, like he’d just stumbled into a Netflix rom-com and realized he might be the side character.

“Uh,” he said finally, “I can do dishes!”

Yelena patted his shoulder. “That’s probably safer.”

---

The training room was charged.

You were in leggings and a fitted tank top, wrapping your wrists in tape, jaw set with a hint of a smirk. Across from you stood John Walker, cocky as ever, bouncing on the balls of his feet like this was a warm-up. Ava and Yelena sat off to the side, watching with sharp eyes and popcorn-level interest.

Bob was leaning on the far wall, arms crossed, pretending not to watch too hard. He was failing.

And Bucky?

He was there too. Silent. Focused. Leaning against the glass with arms folded tight across his chest, jaw clenched, eyes glued to you.

“I go easy on Stark’s kid, or what?” Walker joked as he stepped forward.

You smirked. “If you need to.”

The match started.

Walker was good — strong, fast, overconfident. You was better — precise, fluid, cool as ice. He threw a hook. You ducked. Spun. Grabbed his wrist, twisted, and swept him flat onto his back in one breathless second.

“Jesus,” Walker groaned, staring at the ceiling. “You marry me and we rule the world or what?”

From the corner, Bucky pushed off the wall.

“No.”

Walker blinked up at him. “Uh—wasn’t really asking you.”

Bucky didn’t answer. He stepped into the ring without a word, eyes locked on you. The tension in the room crackled. Even Bob stood straighter.

You tilted your head. “You wanna go?”

His voice was low. “You need a real challenge.”

You smiled. “Alright, soldier.”

You circled each other slowly, like a dance you’d done before. Bucky moved with sharp grace — watching, calculating, and when he struck, it was fast. You blocked. Countered. Moved into his space. He grabbed your waist during a fake-out — held you a second too long — and flipped you.

You hit the mat with a laugh. “Cheap.”

“You love cheap.”

“You love controlling.”

He smirked. “Only when it keeps you safe.”

You were breathing fast, skin flushed, limbs burning with adrenaline — and you knew what this looked like. The way he lingered in your space. The way your hand lingered too long on his chest when you got back up.

And Bob?

Bob had gone very, very quiet.

When the match ended, you caught your breath and turned — but Bob was already gone.

---

You found him on the balcony outside the Tower gym. His back was to the wall, hair tousled, long legs stretched out, eyes on the sky.

You stepped out, closing the door behind you. “You ghosting me?”

He didn’t look at you. “Wasn’t trying to.”

You sat beside him, knee brushing his. “You left kind of fast.”

“I figured you and Bucky needed… space.” He forced a laugh. “Looked like you two had your own language going on.”

You were quiet for a second. Then—

“He’s protective,” you said gently. “Always has been. But that doesn’t mean—”

Bob cut you off, voice low. “You let him touch you like that.”

You blinked, caught off guard.

“I know it’s not my place,” Bob went on, rubbing his palms together like he was trying to wring something out of them. “I just… I see how he looks at you. And you let him get close. Real close.”

You swallowed. “He’s family, Bob.”

“Family doesn’t look at you like that,” he whispered. “Like they’d burn the world down just to keep you for themselves.”

You turned to him — really turned.

And for the first time, Bob didn’t meet your gaze. He stared straight ahead.

“I’m not stupid,” he said. “I know what I am. I’ve been broken. Rebuilt. Ripped apart inside. I know I’m not the guy someone like you is supposed to end up with.”

“Don’t say that.”

He exhaled, a bitter edge curling into his voice. “You laugh at my stupid jokes. You let me make you smoothies. You smile like I’m more than just some weird science accident with a god complex. And I don’t even know if you mean it or if you’re just—being nice. Because you’re kind.”

You reached out, gently cupping his jaw. That got him to look at you.

“I meant every smile, Bob. Every time.”

He blinked, breath hitching.

You leaned in, forehead brushing his. “If I didn’t… would I be out here with you, when I could be inside with him?”

He closed his eyes. “You make me feel like I’m not a mistake.”

You kissed his cheek — soft, lingering. “You’re not.”

And in that moment, something shifted.

He didn’t kiss you. Not yet.

But he stayed close.

And he didn’t look at the sky again.

He only looked at you.

---

It was late.

The city was quiet in the way it only gets around midnight — the hum of traffic in the distance, a breeze threading between tall buildings, neon lights flickering against puddles.

You were walking with Bob, hands brushing now and then, neither of you saying much.

You didn’t have to.

He’d shown up outside your door after dinner with two milkshakes and a hoodie that was definitely his and had asked if you wanted to take a walk. No big mission. No team. Just you and him.

And now you were here. Calm. Close. Every few seconds, he looked at you like he couldn’t believe you were real.

You turned to him with a smile. “You keep staring.”

Bob flushed. “Sorry. You just look…”

His voice trailed off.

You raised a brow. “Look what?”

He shoved his hands in his pockets. “Like you should be illegal.”

You laughed. “Is that your way of flirting?”

He grinned shyly. “I’m new to it.”

You were about to respond when you heard it — footsteps quickening behind you, a camera flash, and then—

“Hey! Hey, wait—aren’t you Stark’s daughter?”

A man with a phone stepped in front of you, suddenly way too close. He wasn’t paparazzi — just some guy. Early twenties, beer on his breath, and eyes darting up and down your body like you were on display.

“Holy sh*t, it is you,” he said, stepping closer. “Damn, I thought you were hotter on the news, but—Jesus, you’re—”

“Back up,” Bob said sharply.

The man blinked, finally looking at him. “Relax, dude, I’m just trying to get a picture—”

“I said back the f*ck up.”

You grabbed Bob’s arm, gently. “It’s okay—”

But it wasn’t.

Because the air changed.

The golden hum started in Bob’s chest — soft, at first. His breath hitched, eyes flickering. You saw the power curling at his fingertips, glowing like a warning.

He stepped between you and the stranger, voice like steel. “You don’t get to touch her. You don’t get to talk to her. You don’t even get to look at her like that.”

“Jesus, alright,” the guy muttered, backing off. “Freak.”

And then he was gone.

Bob didn’t move.

“Hey,” you said softly, stepping around to face him. “Hey, look at me.”

His jaw was tight. Hands shaking. Power still crackling in his veins.

“I’m okay,” you said, placing both hands on his chest. “I’m okay, Bob.”

He looked at you like he was barely holding it together. “He was looking at you like you were a thing.”

“But I’m not,” you whispered. “I’m yours. Right?”

Something in him broke.

In a second, his hands were on your hips, gripping hard like he needed to feel you to believe it. He pulled you close — flush against him — and kissed you like he couldn’t breathe without it.

You gasped, and he groaned, deep and rough, backing you up against the nearest wall, his body covering yours. The city faded. There was only him.

His voice was low, shaking. “Say it again.”

“I’m yours,” you whispered, lips brushing his.

He kissed down your neck, open-mouthed, desperate. “I want you so bad. I want to keep you like this — close. Always.”

“You can,” you said, tugging his hoodie until he was practically on top of you. “You already do.”

“I’ll protect you,” he breathed, pressing his forehead to yours. “I’ll never let anyone get near you like that again. Not even him.”

You shook your head. “Bob…”

He smiled, eyes soft now. “I know. It’s not about him. It’s just—when it comes to you… I go a little feral.”

You kissed him again — slower this time, deeper, and when you pulled back, his eyes were glowing with heat and something softer too.

“You make me feel like I’m someone worth loving,” he whispered.

You cupped his face, brushing your thumb over his cheek. “You are.”

And right there, in the quiet dark of the city, Bob Reynolds kissed you like a promise:

That you were his. And he was yours. And no one would ever touch you again — not unless they wanted to burn.

---

The front door clicked shut behind you.

The tower was dark, lit only by the city glow bleeding in through the floor-to-ceiling windows. You kicked your shoes off, tossing your jacket on the bench near the elevator.

Bob followed behind you, quieter than usual, hoodie sleeves pushed up, jaw tight.

Neither of you had said much since that moment in the alley. His hand had hovered at your lower back the whole walk home, but he didn’t touch you again.

He hadn’t needed to.

The air between you was thick.

You glanced at him now as you padded toward the kitchen. “You want something to drink? I think there’s still some—”

Bob grabbed your hand.

You turned.

He was right there.

Close. Eyes burning. His thumb brushed your wrist, and when he spoke, it was low and aching.

“Tell me to stop.”

You didn’t.

You stepped into him instead.

His hands found your waist, slow and reverent. “I almost lost it earlier,” he whispered. “The way he touched you. Looked at you. I—I saw red.”

“I know,” you said softly, reaching up to touch his face.

Bob leaned into your hand. “It scared me. How fast I’d burn down the whole world for you.”

Your chest rose and fell, breath catching.

“Bob…”

“I don’t want to be careful with you anymore,” he said, voice rough. “I want to be yours. I want to show you what it means to be wanted—not just protected. Not just looked after. Claimed.”

A beat passed.

Then you whispered: “Then take me.”

That’s all it took.

He kissed you.

Not the sweet, nervous kisses from before. This was hungry. Deep. Desperate. Like he was memorizing the taste of your mouth in case the world ended tomorrow.

You gasped as he picked you up effortlessly, wrapping your legs around his waist, walking you backwards down the hallway toward your room — his hoodie riding up your thighs, your fingers twisted in his hair.

He dropped you onto the bed like you were the softest, most sacred thing he’d ever touched.

“You don’t know what you do to me,” he breathed, crawling over you, every line of his body pressed to yours. “You walk into a room and I forget who I am.”

“Bob—”

He kissed your neck. Your collarbone. Worshipping. “Let me take care of you. Let me show you what it feels like to be mine.”

You nodded, chest rising and falling fast. “Please.”

He pulled back just long enough to tug the hoodie over your head — and then paused.

His eyes swept over you. Slowly. Reverently.

“Jesus Christ,” he whispered. “You’re perfect.”

You reached up, tugging at his shirt, and he let you peel it off. And when his skin touched yours — warm, flushed, shaking — he groaned like he’d just come home.

Everything after that blurred into heat and light and him:

His mouth tracing every inch of your body. His voice in your ear, thick with praise: “You’re so beautiful… so sweet… so mine.” His hands holding you like you were the only thing keeping him tethered to the earth. And when he finally pushed into you — slow, deep, trembling with how badly he needed it — he buried his face in your neck and whispered, “I’ve never felt anything like this.”

You clung to him, breathless, lost in the feel of him, the weight of him, the way he filled you so completely it felt like he’d marked your soul.

And when you came undone — shivering, gasping his name — he followed seconds later, holding you tight like he never wanted to let go.

After, you lay tangled together, sheets kicked down, the city glowing outside the window.

Bob kissed your forehead, still breathless.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he murmured. “Not now. Not ever.”

You smiled, eyes heavy, voice soft. “Good.” Because now? You were his and he was yours.

---

The next morning in Stark Tower felt unusually quiet.

You were in the kitchen, making coffee, wrapped in one of Bob’s oversized hoodies, the fabric soft against your skin. The scent of fresh brew filled the air, a small comfort in the sprawling, empty space.

Bucky leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching you with a careful gaze that had grown sharper over the past few days.

At first, he thought it was just the normal relief of seeing you safe — but lately, there was something different.

The way you smiled at Bob across the room, the easy way you let him touch you, the way Bob’s eyes lingered on you like you were the only thing that mattered.

It hit Bucky like a punch to the gut.

He cleared his throat.

“Morning,” he said, voice a little rough.

You turned, bright-eyed and warm. “Hey, Bucky. Coffee?”

He nodded, stepping inside. “Thanks.”

There was a pause.

Bucky scratched the back of his neck, suddenly feeling awkward. “Look… I just wanted to say… it’s good to see you smiling again.”

You smiled softly, reaching out to touch his arm. “I’ve missed this. Missed all of you.”

He gave a short laugh. “Yeah… well, some things don’t change. I still don’t like the idea of anyone—” He glanced toward Bob, who was casually lifting weights nearby, “—getting too close.”

Your smile faltered just a bit.

Bob caught the glance and grinned, waving a dumbbell like a trophy.

Bucky’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t say anything else.

Later, as you and Bob settled in the training room, Bucky lingered nearby, watching from a distance.

He noticed how Bob’s hand found yours easily, how your laughter sounded lighter when you were with him, and how Bob’s protective gaze never left you, even in moments when no one else was around.

The realization was sinking in.

Something had changed.

And Bucky wasn’t sure if he was ready for it.

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starynightskyyy · 1 month ago

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Warnings: smut, cnc, choking, mentions of pregnancy, daddy kinks, really intense smut. The first few parts were inspired by a post from @toweranne

Summary: After you tease your mate Jacob for the fifth time by coming to his house in short shorts, he finally snaps.

The air was thick with motor oil, pine, and that unmistakable scent that was just Jacob—earthy, warm, intoxicating. You sat perched on his beat-up workbench, legs swinging, the hem of your shorts riding up just a little higher each time he glanced your way. He was leaning under the hood of his rebuilt Rabbit, shirtless, his bronze skin glowing under the harsh fluorescent lights. Muscles flexed with every twist of his wrench, sweat trailing down the line of his spine as he worked. Jacob emerges from under the hood, wiping his greasy hands on a rag. His eyes immediately find you, a wolfish grin spreading across his face

"Hey, beautiful, you just gonna sit there and watch me work all day?" He stalks towards you, radiating heat and raw magnetism.

“I thought you liked me watching,” you teased. Jacob stepped closer, every movement smooth and predatory, like a wolf circling prey — except you weren’t scared. You were aching. “I do,” he said, voice lower now. “I like it a lot.” His hands found your thighs, large and hot against your skin as he stepped between your legs. The energy shifted — electric, magnetic. You felt it hum through you, pooling in your stomach. “You always wear the little shorts when you come here."

His hands slide higher, fingers digging into your flesh possessively. The rag falls forgotten to the ground as he presses closer, caging you against the workbench

"Mmm, testing my control again?" He leans in, breath hot against your neck. "Those shorts are gonna be the death of me, you know that? Are they for me?” He teased, referencing the shorts. “Maybe,” you breathed, trying not to squirm under his touch. “And if it is?”

Jacob growls low in his throat, his hips pinning you firmly against the bench. The hard outline of his arousal presses against you, making him groan softly

"You want me that bad, baby? Been thinking about getting my hands on you all day…" He trails wet kisses along your jaw.

“I’ve been trying to be good,” he growled, pressing a slow, open-mouthed kiss to the side of your neck. “Trying to take my time. But you make it so hard, baby.” Your hands travelled up his back, nails lightly scraping his shoulder blades. “Maybe I don’t want you to be good.” Jacob froze for half a second. Then — gone. The leash snapped. He crashed his lips into yours, hot and hungry, devouring your breath like he couldn’t get enough.

His hands are everywhere now, frantic and desperate as he claims your mouth. The scent of your arousal is driving him wild, making his head spin with desire "Fuck being good..." He tears at your shorts, literally ripping them in his haste. "You're mine to ruin right now," you groaned. "Fuck, ruin me. That's what I come here every day hoping for,"

Jacob's eyes flash gold with primal need, his wolf nature taking over completely. He grabs your thighs and lifts you up, slamming you down on the hood of his car

"You want it rough?" He yanks down his jeans, freeing his throbbing cock. "Hold on tight, princess." Your eyes widen at the sheer size of his cock. He was huge. How that was going to fit, you had no idea.

Jacob notices your expression and smirks, stroking himself slowly while watching your reaction

"That scared look on your face just makes me want to destroy you more… Don't worry, I'll make it fit." He positions himself at your entrance. You spread your legs wide, your sopping cunt exposed for him to see.

With a possessive snarl, he thrusts into you in one powerful movement, stretching you to your limit

"Fucking perfect…" He holds you down, not letting you adjust as he starts pounding into you. "So tight for me, baby…" Your eyes widened, and you shrieked in pleasure as he filled you up in one thrust. Your walls tried to adjust, but he was railing you before you could get the chance. It felt amazing.

His pace becomes brutal, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing through the garage

"Taking my cock so well…" He grabs your throat, applying just enough pressure to make you lightheaded. "Such a good girl for daddy…" You whimpered at his lewd words and how well he was pounding you. Your hands gripped his forearms, nails sinking into the bronze skin, leaving crescent marks.

Jacob leans forward, his massive frame covering you completely. The metal hood beneath you is scorching hot from his body heat

"You're gonna cum on my cock right here, on my car. Show daddy how much you love it." He angles his hips to hit that perfect spot inside you. You screamed. You could swear his tip was in your womb from how deep he was in you.

Jacob growls with approval, fucking you through your screams. He lifts your legs higher, folding you in half and pressing your knees to your chest

"I can feel you clenching… You want me to fill you up with my pups? Make you all swollen with my babies?" You tried to speak, but all that came out were moans and incoherent babbles, so you just nodded instead.

He slams his hips harder, pistoning in and out at an animalistic pace, his knot starting to swell. His wolf features starting to emerge more noticeably, fangs sharpening and claws digging into your flesh

"Gonna breed you right here… mark you as mine forever…" His voice becomes guttural, driven by pure animalistic instinct. You gripped his shoulders in an attempt to ground yourself. You were so close, the knot in your stomach tightening like a coil, ready to explode.

Jacob's knot fully forms, locking him inside you as he roars out your name. His release hits him hard, pumping you full of his hot, thick cum, mixing with your own juices

"Cum for me… Now!" He bites down on your shoulder, hard enough to make a deep claiming mark, his wolf bite. The bite pushed you over the edge. Your head fell back and you screamed, cumming hard. white liquid oozed from both your bodies down the shiny hood of his car.

Jacob laps at the blood from his bite, holding you close as he pours his seed into you, filling you to the brim. His chest heaves with exhaustion, but satisfaction shines in his eyes as he sees the mark on your shoulder.

"That's my girl… Mine forever." He strokes your hair tenderly, still buried deep inside you, his knot keeping you both connected. You panted, biting your lip. "Fuck, Jake. That was so good."

He chuckles, pulling you up to sit on him. The movement causes his cock to shift, making you gasp again

"Better than usual, huh? Guess you really did want to be ruined today. I should make you come to the garage more often…" He kisses your temple. You smirked. "I'm not opposed to that. Not at all," you said between pants before collapsing forward into his arms.

Jacob returns the kiss passionately, his knot finally starting to deflate, but not pulling out just yet. He breaks away to pepper your face with gentle kisses

"Love you so much, baby girl… I can feel you milking me for more. Such a needy little mate." He looks down at your stomach. "I wonder how many pups I've put in you."

#twilight #jacob black #jacob black smut #twilight smut #jacob black x reader #jacob black x you #jacob black fanfic #jacob black x female reader #jacob black x y/n #twilight saga #paul lahote

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seokminfilm · 2 months ago

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pink & white ── lee seokmin

🤍 pairing, lee seokmin x reader

🤍 warnings, non-idol au, fluff, established relationship, boyfriend seokmin, soft seokmin, seokmin and reader are mentioned to have taken a shower together (not nsfw!!), reader calls seokmin by his nicknames (reader also calls him pretty RAHHH), seokmin calls reader beautiful, kissing, dokyeom is shirtless (....yes i'm giving that a warning shut up), just bucket loads of fluff & compliments

🤍 summary, your boyfriend had shown you a new level of intimacy tonight, and you were overflowing with love for him.

🤍 author's note, giggling rn bro i swear i will NEVER get over this set of seokmin pictures idc how long it's been🧍anyways enjoy this very fluffy intimate fic cause i know i need a bit of a break from everything!

🤍 now playing, pink + white (frank ocean)

🤍 word count, 648 | for @kstrucknet, @maestro-net

"feel clean?" seokmin chuckles, watching you shake your now damp hair as you smile up at him, hair obscuring your full face. "very."

seokmin had proposed something you never thought would happen in your relationship—he had asked you if you wanted to shower together. you were initially nervous, but once seokmin had reassured you he wasn't going to initiate anything you didn't want, you had loosened up and agreed to it.

seokmin treated you wonderfully while in the shower; he had played soft jazz music, taking time to love on you and your bare body as he pressed kisses to your face, back, and collarbone. he massaged your skin softly, washing you and your hair before helping you out of the tub and drying you off.

even now, you still smelled of lavender and vanilla, your body draped in seokmin's shirt as you watched him run a hand through his dark, damp hair.

seokmin quickly strips himself of his robe, leaving him in nothing but a pair of boxers. no matter how many times you saw your boyfriend naked, you would never be able to get over how beautiful he really was.

seokmin's tanned skin shadowed every muscle and vein on his lean body perfectly, and you could smell the fresh soap even from your vantage point on the bed.

seokmin happens to turn around slightly, catching your gaze as a small smile forms on his face. "hi, beautiful. am i a good view for you?"

"more than a good view," you whisper softly, standing up from the bed as you walk up to your boyfriend. seokmin's staring at you as you walk, giggling at your cold hands as you slip them around seokmin's bare waist. his muscles flex under your touch, rippling and moving as you smile up at him.

"are you gonna kiss me?" seokmin asks, eyes locked with yours as you reach your hand up to his face, fingers tracing his plump lips and sharp jawline as you shrug, a proud smile decorating your face.

"maybe. you'd like that though, wouldn't you, seok?" you tilt your head to the side in a teasing manner. your tone of voice causes seokmin to nod, lips parting just slightly to taste the scent of vanilla on your soft fingers as he chuckles.

"very much so, yes." seokmin whispers, and you nod, cupping his cheek in your palm as you bring your lips to his. seokmin lets out a soft sigh, smiling under your lips as you allow your hand to flutter across seokmin's waist.

he trembles again, visibly shaking this time as you burst into a fit of laughter. "you're so cute, min."

seokmin's flustered now, cheeks a slight red as he covers his face with his hands. his bare torso is on display, still a beautiful sight to see as he mumbles something into his hands.

"hey, i'll stop teasing you now. let me look at your pretty face," you say softly, reaching for seokmin's hands. he lets you take them away from his face, revealing his sparkling, dark brown eyes, reddened cheeks, sharp nose, tiny beauty mark, and plush lips.

if there was one thing you would forever know, it would be that your boyfriend was one of the prettiest boyfriends you think you've ever had.

"there's my pretty seokmin." you smile, and seokmin's expression softens after a few seconds. he's leaning into your touch with ease now, searching your eyes as he lets out a quiet yet content sigh.

"i love you, more than you could ever know." seokmin's voice is sincere, dark eyes holding nothing but love for you as you nod, interlocking your hands with seokmin's larger ones.

even though silence falls between you two, it's a comfortable one, one that's thick with the feeling of love. even if you don't reply to seokmin's confession, the both of you know it's mutual.

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vibelladonna · 3 months ago

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❛ 𝓈𝓃𝒶𝒸𝓀𝒶𝓇𝑜𝑜 ❜ 𝜗𝜚 𝒽𝓎𝓊𝑔𝑜 𝓍 𝒶𝒻𝒶𝒷!𝓇𝑒𝒶𝒹𝑒𝓇

𝓈𝓎𝓃𝑜𝓅𝓈𝒾𝓈: The rules were simple—no strings, no expectations, just something to pass the time. Hyugo was easy enough to toy with, with all wide eyes and eager hands, a sweet little distraction when boredom or stress crept in.

A fleeting indulgence. Nothing more. But somewhere between stolen kisses and quiet confessions, between the way he shivered under your touch and the way he lingered just a little too long, the lines started to blur.

Now, the game feels different, the weight of unspoken words pressing closer. So tell me—when did it stop being just fun? And more importantly…

who’s going to admit it first?

𝒸𝑜𝓃𝓉𝑒𝓃𝓉 𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾��𝑔: 18+ NO KIDS (Adults Only) This content contains mature themes unsuitable for children. Please respect the creator's intentions.

𝓇𝑒𝓆𝓊𝑒𝓈𝓉: This one’s for the amazing @midnightminddz—your request totally caught my eye! I figured, why not dip my toes into writing this baby boy Hyugo first from the request? Plus, let’s be real here—there’s a criminal lack of Hyugo smut out there. I mean, I went looking myself, and guess what?

There are only eight. EIGHT. Like, what the actual hell? That’s practically a desert out there. So, consider this my contribution to feeding the starving masses.

𝓉𝒶𝑔𝓈: hyugo x afab!Reader, smut, friends with benefits, emotional intimacy, slow burn??, dom/sub undertones, praise kink, gentle dominance, romantic tension, sexual tension, vulnerability, emotional connection

It started off simple—just an arrangement.

A deal struck between two people who knew better than to complicate things. You had your own lives, your own ambitions, and absolutely no time for distractions.

Friday nights were reserved for him.

Without fail, Hyugo would show up at your door, sometimes grinning, sometimes looking at you with that playful, knowing smirk that made your stomach twist, acting like this was just another casual hookup. And for a while, it was. Without a word, without hesitation, you’d be on him—kissing, touching, taking whatever he was willing to give.

It felt loving in those quiet moments between dusk and dawn, when the world outside didn’t exist and the only thing that mattered was the way his body fit against yours, the way his lips parted under your touch like he was made for it.

He was always so easy like this—so eager, so willing.

Your personal snack you can say.

Because once the morning rolled around, when the golden light seeped through the blinds, spilling honeyed warmth across tangled sheets, the illusion cracked. His sweater vet—well-worn, almost tightly fit your frame—clung to the lingering heat of last night. And he was there beside you, shirtless, sprawled out, arm tucked behind his head. Watching you.

Always watching you.

His expression was unreadable, his gaze trailing over you like he was memorizing the sight as if he didn’t know when he’d get to have you like this again. Hyugo—your closest friend. The one who had spent the night pulling you apart and putting you back together again.

It was easy. Convenient. A perfect escape from the weight of everything else. Whenever things started to spiral, whenever stress curled too tightly in your chest, you called him. His name sat at the top of your contacts list, an unspoken promise that relief was just one message away.

Hyugo was okay with it.

It all started at a bar—one of those last-minute events you decided to throw together, a reckless, spur-of-the-moment kind of thing. The kind where cheap liquor flowed freely, and bad decisions were practically encouraged. You’d had one too many shots, the warmth of liquor burning at the back of your throat, pooling like liquid heat in the pit of your stomach.

You felt bold—maybe a little too bold, if you were being honest.

The kind of reckless bravery that only came from the perfect mix of alcohol and impulse. You knocked back another shot, your seventh by now before your gaze landed on him—Hyugo.

He was standing off to the side, caught in a halfhearted conversation with a few of his friends. But you knew just by looking at him—by the distant way his eyes drifted over the scene—that he was bored out of his mind.

Parties weren’t really his thing.

He was only here because certain someone, named Sol had dragged him along as emotional support as he wanted to his shot at his so-called crush, and now he was stuck pretending to care about a conversation he clearly wanted no part of.

You didn’t know what came over you, but one second you were leaning against the bar, and the next, you were pushing off it with a smirk tugging at your lips, striding straight toward him with the confidence of someone who had no business being that self-assured.

By the time you reached him, the small group had already started to disperse, leaving him standing alone. His gaze flicked up, meeting yours, and then—he smiled. A small thing, easy and familiar, like the two of you weren’t just casual friends who crossed paths every so often.

“Hey,” he greeted smoothly, taking your hand and pressing a chaste kiss to the back of it. A friendly gesture, nothing more. But the way his lips brushed against your skin—it sent a shiver rolling down your spine that was anything but friendly.

“Hyugo~” you breathed, his name soft on your lips, the alcohol swirling in your system making everything feel just a little bit hazy.

His eyes flickered with something unreadable before narrowing slightly, taking in the flush on your cheeks, the slightly unsteady sway in your stance. “You all right?” he asked, a steady hand finding the small of your back, firm but careful, just enough to keep you from tipping over.

“I’m doin’ just fine,” you replied, drawing out the words, looking up at him through lidded eyes. And then—laughter. Sudden, bright, bubbling from your throat before you even knew what was so funny.

Hyugo's expression shifted the playful glint in his eyes dimming with something closer to concern. “Okay, yeah,” he murmured, his grip tightening just slightly. “How about I take you back to your place?” You blinked up at him, considering it for a moment before nodding.

Maybe… maybe that would be for the best.

The ride back to your place was quiet. The world outside the car window blurred past in streaks of neon and moonlight, the alcohol in your system making everything feel just a little softer, a little less real. Hyugo’s presence was steady beside you, his hands gripping the wheel, his eyes flicking to you every so often—watching, making sure you were okay.

By the time you reached your apartment, the night air had sobered you just enough to feel the weight of exhaustion creeping in, but something else burned just beneath your skin—something desperate, something restless.

The door barely clicked shut behind you before you turned, hands reaching up to cup Hyugo’s face, fingers pressing into the warmth of his skin. You didn’t hesitate.

You didn’t think.

You just pulled him down into a kiss—hungry, deep, pressed against the wall as if you could melt into him entirely. His body went rigid for half a second, his breath hitching as your lips moved against his. But then, just as quickly, he stepped back, hands finding your waist to put some space between you. His eyes, wide and unreadable, searched yours before his brows knitted together.

“Holy shit,” His voice was soft, careful, but firm. “You’re a little under the influence… You’re not making clear decisions.”

The words hit like a sudden drop in temperature, dousing you in the reality of the situation.

You blinked up at him, lips still parted, fingers still tingling from the heat of his skin. “I—” Your breath shuddered as you exhaled. Shame curled in your stomach, replacing the warmth that had been there just moments ago. “I’m sorry.”

Hyugo’s expression softened instantly as he watched you deflate. Before he could say anything, your shoulders sagged, and you stumbled forward slightly, right into his arms. He caught you without hesitation, his hands steady as they hovered at your waist, unsure whether to hold you close or give you space.

You let out a shaky laugh, but it wasn’t really amused—more tired, more resigned. “I just…” You swallowed thickly, the words feeling heavy on your tongue. “I’ve been stressed, y’know? Thought drinking would help take the edge off, help me forget all the shit piling up.”

A breath. A pause. “But it didn’t.”

Hyugo didn’t say anything right away, but he didn’t pull away either. He was warm—so damn warm, grounding in a way that made you feel like maybe you weren’t completely unraveling.

“I shouldn’t have kissed you,” you muttered, voice barely above a whisper. “That was stupid.”

Hyugo exhaled sharply through his nose—almost a laugh, but not quite. His fingers twitched where they rested against you as if he was deciding something. And then, before you could process it—his hands curled around your waist, tugging you closer.

His head dipped, his lips finding yours in a kiss that was just as sudden as yours had been—but this time, there was no hesitation, no stopping. It was slow, deep, lingering. Like he was trying to tell you something without saying a word. Like he wanted you to understand.

He practically rips his clothes off His hands feel the exposed skin of your back now slowly guiding him into your bedroom. You just want him naked and his bare body on top of yours with his hands touching any part of you that it can.

Everything makes you feel like you are drowning, it’s like you can’t get enough oxygen as he practically kisses the life from your being before moving down your neck leaving marks.

Hyugo below you, his breath warm against your skin, lips stealing kisses like he had a right to them. His hands, firm and knowing, holding you steady as you rocked yourself on top of him, each motion slow—teasing, torturous. Your name fell from his lips in a half-broken moan, a sound so desperate it sent shivers down your spine.

Your fingers curled under his chin, tilting his face up to yours, and for a second, he hesitated—just a flicker of something in those soft baby blue, knowing eyes before you dragged his lips back to yours. A soft laugh swallowed between kisses.

A sharp nip to his lower lip, your way of keeping him in check. His quiet hiss was almost a purr, hands tightening around your hips in response, the warmth of his palms branding against your skin. And then, Saturday mornings rolled around as per usual.

You had rules set. Three simple rules meant to keep things clean, meant to keep this from turning into something it was never supposed to be.

1. No staying over.

2. No unnecessary texting.

3. No catching feelings.

So why did one—or two—of those rules always end up broken?

Looking back, the signs had been there for a while. Subtle at first, easy to ignore. Like the way, he lingered too long on Saturday mornings.

It wasn’t supposed to happen. He was supposed to get up, get dressed, and leave before the day truly started—before things could settle into something too domestic, too comfortable.

And yet, more often than not, Hyugo would stretch out beside you, arms tucked behind his head, watching you with lazy eyes, making no move to go.

“Five more minutes,” he’d say, voice still a little rough from sleep. “S’too early to get up anyway.” And then came the breakfast offers. “Y’know, I could cook for us?” he’d mention casually, already making his way to your kitchen, raiding your fridge like it was his own. He was good at it too, always making sure to ask what you wanted next time.

You told yourself it was harmless. But rule number one was broken.

Then there was the texting. Unnecessary texting was meant to be avoided—no random check-ins, no conversations outside of planning when and where to meet. Simple, clean, detached. So why did Hyugo contact you so often?

Why did he text you throughout the day—stupid things, like “Look at this cat I saw on the train” or “Sol was being an idiot today”—as if he couldn’t help but pull you into his everyday life?

You remember one night. You had an exam coming up, so you shut off your phone, buried yourself in assignments, and blocked out the world for a few hours. It wasn’t until you were done that you finally checked your messages.

Hyugo’s name flooded your screen.

Missed calls. Unread messages. Even one from Sol, checking in because “Hyugo’s being annoying as hell and won’t shut up about you.” And before you could even think to respond, there was a knock at your door.

There he was, standing outside your apartment, a bag of snacks in one hand, your favorite drink in the other. His usual playful grin was missing, replaced by something quieter, something uncertain. “You weren’t answering.” His voice was casual, but there was a tension in his shoulders. “Figured I’d just check.”

Hyugo had always been caring. And that should’ve been fine. That should’ve been normal.

But it wasn’t. Because rule number two was broken.

And if you were being honest—really, painfully honest—you had a sinking feeling rule number three was already slipping through your fingers. Why?Well...

One afternoon, you were lost in your thoughts during your Art classes, the kind of space where your mind often wandered between lectures. Sol was sitting next to you, and of course, Hyugo was supposed to be his project partner, but—well, Hyugo had a habit of disappearing or skipping out on things, especially classes.

You hadn’t even noticed it at first. It was a subtle comment, something so offhand that it almost didn’t register. But then, in the middle of your chaotic thoughts, you heard Sol’s voice break through.

"You and Hyugo sure act like a couple."

It was the kind of comment you could laugh off. So you did. You laughed.

You brushed it off like it was nothing. But later, when you were lying in bed, wrapped in the warmth of fresh sheets and freshly showered skin, those words crept into your mind like something that refused to leave.

You thought about Hyugo. You thought about how he always seemed to know when you were having a bad day, even before you said a word.

He had this uncanny ability to be there for you in a way no one else ever had. You thought about the way he’d look at you sometimes—like he was holding a secret like there was an inside joke only he understood.

And then came the real problem.

You tried to imagine what would happen if you ended the arrangement. If you finally said it, broke the silent rule: "This is over." If you told him you didn’t need him anymore. You should’ve felt relief. Should’ve felt lighter, as if some weight had been lifted off your chest.

But instead, there was this heavy emptiness that crept in, something wrong in your stomach. A feeling that shouldn’t be there.

You sighed. "Ugh…"

You rolled your eyes at yourself, but the weight of the thought lingered, nagging at the back of your mind. It was hard to ignore, harder to push away. You rolled to your side, pulling your phone out from underneath you. And before you could talk yourself out of it, your thumb hovered over his name.

It wasn’t Friday, but...

You pressed send anyway.

A casual text, inviting him over. Nothing too different than the usual, just a random offer to come over and watch one of those detective movies he loved to talk about during aftercare.

You could justify it, right? You could tell yourself it wasn’t anything serious. It was just a way to unwind, a way to relieve the stress from the week, from everything else weighing on your mind.

He’d be there. That’s how it worked.

And maybe that was the real problem. You’d let yourself believe it was just that simple.

It wasn’t long until Hyugo showed up right on time, a bag of snacks in one hand, a six-pack of your favorite drink in the other. He grinned when you opened the door, his usual playful smile stretched wide across his face, lighting up his eyes like he was genuinely happy to see you.

He didn’t waste any time, stepping in without waiting for an invitation, his eyes already scanning the room for the usual movie night setup. He was used to this, used to the rhythm of your arrangements—so used to it that he immediately dropped the snacks onto the counter and pulled out his phone. You made a mental note to pay attention to how casual he was like this was just another night.

But the reality felt slightly different, didn’t it?

You didn’t have time to dwell on it as you suddenly heard Sol’s voice on Hyugo’s phone. “Yeah, dude, they took their shirt off, and I went—”

You blinked, half-amused and half-cringing, while Sol’s words trailed off into something less than PG-rated. You crossed your arms, leaning against the wall as you waited for whatever came next.

Sol kept talking, but then his words caught up to him, and you saw that flash of awkwardness that was too human for the cocky, Hyugo you usually saw.

“Like, I actually had—like—my body had a reaction, what the hell, those—” Sol said, voice low and unsure, but still clearly flushed with the remnants of embarrassment.

You could see Hyugo’s eyes roll in the camera, “Dude, I don't need to know about that. Keep that to yourself. Anyway, gotta go." Hyugo let out a low sigh, dropping his head back for a moment, and you caught his tried look as he ended the call. He turned his attention back to you with a smirk, but there was something more in his gaze now.

Something questioning, probing.

“All right, what’s up with the sudden movie night request? You didn’t text me unless something was going on. Something you wanna tell me?” He raised an eyebrow, his voice teasing but still edged with concern, like he knew better than to think everything was as casual as it seemed.

You narrowed your eyes at him for a moment, but your breath caught in your throat. What were you even supposed to say to that? It wasn’t like you could admit how weirdly you’d been feeling—how the idea of ending your arrangement was something you weren’t ready for, but maybe also feared?

Instead, you just sighed, shifting your weight before turning to grab the TV remote, your back to him. “I just wanted to, all right? Nothing’s up.”

He gave you a long look, his gaze lingering on your form as you moved, and you swore you felt the weight of it even with your back turned.

You spun around and gave him a light pat on the head, an attempt to brush the awkwardness off, to pretend like you were unaffected. “Besides,” you muttered, “You’re here now. Let’s just enjoy the movie.”

For a second, Hyugo didn’t move, just staring at you as if weighing the sincerity of your words. Then, without missing a beat, he shook his head, a low chuckle slipping from his lips.

“Aww you’re so mean” he teased, his voice soft and easy but still holding that edge of curiosity. “But fine. Movie night it is.” You watched him settle on the couch, trying your best to ignore the weird sense of something lingering in your chest.

You clicked play on the movie, the soft hum of the opening credits filling the room, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that tonight felt a little different.

Something you still couldn’t quite place.

Maybe it was the way he kept glancing at you or the casual way he stretched out beside you, shifting closer and closer as if he was already comfortable in a way he wasn’t supposed to be. His arm brushed against yours, and before you knew it, he was leaning his head on your shoulder, an almost childlike innocence in the way he did it. You could tell he was trying to be subtle, but it was becoming obvious.

You stiffened, biting your lip, but you didn’t say anything right away. He wasn’t supposed to get this close. Not tonight. You had rules for a reason, after all.

And that means no cuddling unless it was Friday.

You shifted slightly, but he followed your movement, pressing his side against yours, his body heat seeping into yours. His face nuzzled into the crook of your neck, and you could feel him smiling, the faintest touch of his breath against your skin.

"You know," he started, voice muffled by your shirt, "I’m pretty sure it’s still a movie night, which means we’re allowed to, you know, do our thing.” His hand found its way to your leg, brushing against it like he was just testing the waters.

You let out a sigh, half amused, half irritated by how well he knew your boundaries. You had told him before—it was only on Fridays. That was the arrangement. You didn’t do the clingy thing on any other night. “Hyugo��” You hesitated, trying to pull yourself together. “It’s not Friday. You know the rules.”

He looked up at you then, his baby-blue eyes gleaming with that usual mischief and something deeper. His lips parted, but you could tell he was just about to give you that pouty look—the one you couldn’t ever resist.

“I don’t care about the rules tonight,” he whined, sounding almost pitiful, though you knew he was playing it up. He was like that—charming in the way he asked for things. “Please. Just this once, hug me? You can’t say no to me. You never can.”

You could feel the weight of his words, his voice practically begging for something he knew you were weak for. His eyes were locked on yours, and his hands, one still resting on your leg, slowly crept up to your waist, fingers brushing against your skin. You wanted to tell him to back off. You wanted to stick to the rules.

You really did.

But something in the way he looked at you, something in the way his touch was gentle and familiar, made it so damn hard to say no.

"Hyugo…" you started again, your voice weaker this time, “This isn’t what we agreed on.” But even as you said it, you already knew the inevitable was coming. He gave you that smile, that look that made your chest tighten, and you found yourself caving in, just like always. You were starting to think that maybe he didn’t need to break the rules—he had this power over you just by existing.

You sighed and leaned into him, your resolve shattering as you wrapped your arms around him in a tight hug. He immediately relaxed into your embrace, his head finding its place on your chest as he breathed a contented sigh.

“Thank you,” he murmured, voice muffled as he burrowed in closer. His body melted against yours like he had been waiting for this moment all along. “I knew you couldn’t resist me.”

You let out a small laugh, though it didn’t quite reach your eyes. You were trying so hard not to admit how good it felt to have him so close to you. To feel his warmth and his weight on you, the steady rhythm of his breathing syncing with yours. You couldn’t deny it. “I’m not sure who’s the one who can’t resist,” you muttered, your fingers threading through his hair, almost absently. “You’re the one who’s always clinging to me.”

He grinned against your chest, his arms tightening around you as he relaxed even more. "What can I say? You're just too irresistible."

You felt your heartbeat in your throat, a quiet, unspoken tension building in the space between you, but the movie continued in the background, and neither of you moved. The silence hung thick, but there was a comfort in it too, even if you knew this wasn’t part of the plan.

Again, this is supposed to be an arrangement.

But in moments like these, with Hyugo nestled into your side, everything felt too natural. Too close.

As the movie played on, the air between you and Hyugo grew more comfortable, almost too comfortable for your liking. He shifted, his body pressing closer to yours as he reached for the box of snacks he’d brought with him—something he always did, a part of his little routine that never changed. You couldn’t help but smile at how predictable he was, how him he was, down to the snacks he chose. It was always something he’d drop-ship from somewhere, usually imported and overpriced.

"You're really dedicated to these, huh?" you teased, raising an eyebrow as he expertly opened the box of snacks.

Hyugo glanced up at you with that signature mischievous grin, the one that always made you suspect he knew exactly how much he was getting away with. "What can I say? I have refined taste," he responded, with a dramatic flourish as he pulled out a handful of Pocky sticks. "Plus, they're actually real. Unlike that cheap stuff, they make in the city."

You rolled your eyes, snatching the box from his hands before he could hide it. "Yeah, I know, you've mentioned how much you hate the stuff they make here." You paused, eyeing the Pocky sticks like they were some rare, prized possession. “Can I have some?”

Hyugo smirked, clearly enjoying the playful back-and-forth. "You always ask for some, and you know they’re my favorite. I’m not sure I can share them with you now.” He leaned back against the couch, clearly trying to be casual about it, but you could tell by the glint in his eyes he was planning something.

You raised an eyebrow. “Oh, really? You’re going to be like that?”

With a playful grin, Hyugo picked up one of the Pocky sticks, holding it between his fingers, then slowly and deliberately brought it to his lips. His eyes locked onto yours as the stick hovered just over his mouth, resting there teasingly. "I think I’m generous enough to share one with you… but only if you're lucky."

You narrowed your eyes, trying to act nonchalant. You knew exactly what game he was playing. He wasn’t going to make it easy for you. You reached for the box, but he was quicker—his hand darted in front of yours, pulling the box out of reach.

“You want it that badly?” Hyugo teased, his voice low and playful. “Well, come and get it.”

He pointed at the Pocky stick still balanced on his lips. "I’ll let you have it if you can grab it."

For a moment, you stared at him, both amused and slightly irritated by his antics. You were determined not to let him get away with this. Without thinking, you lunged for the stick, but he dodged—leaning back with a laugh that echoed through the room. You both tumbled into each other as you reached again, this time managing to grab onto his wrist.

"Hyugo, stop being ridiculous," you said through gritted teeth, but you were laughing despite yourself.

He smirked, clearly enjoying the chase. “I think you like it when I’m ridiculous.”

Rolling your eyes, you finally reached for the stick again, your fingers brushing against his lips. The movement was slow, deliberate until you were close enough to steal it from him—finally. You pulled back triumphantly, but just as you were about to break off a piece, Hyugo grabbed your wrist and pulled you back toward him.

“Hey, I was sharing it!” he protested with mock seriousness, but the mischievous glint in his eyes made it clear he wasn’t actually upset.

“Uh-huh,” you said, smiling despite yourself. “Sure, you were.”

With a dramatic sigh, he let go of your wrist and leaned back, clearly satisfied with the playful game he'd dragged you into. "You're lucky I'm generous," he said, reaching into the box to grab another Pocky stick for himself. "But I’m not that generous."

You took the opportunity to finally break off a piece, popping it in your mouth and giving him a smug look. "Thanks for sharing," you said sweetly, before winking. "Next time, though, I’m taking what I want."

Hyugo just laughed, shaking his head. "You can try, but you'll have to catch me first," he teased, throwing his feet up on the couch and sinking into the cushions with a satisfied grin.

It was like this—comfortably ridiculous, lighthearted, with the two of you playing off each other’s energy like you always did. The snacks were just an excuse for a good laugh, but that didn't mean you couldn't keep pushing things a little further.

Hyugo, clearly not ready to let the game go, leaned forward, his eyes glinting with that familiar mischievousness. He grabbed another Pocky stick, this time holding it out toward you with a little smirk. “You know, we could make this more interesting,” he said, his voice low and teasing. “The Pocky Stick Game. Ever heard of it?”

Your eyes narrowed in suspicion, though the hint of a smile was already tugging at your lips. “Pocky Stick Game?” you asked, trying to sound as unimpressed as possible, but you both knew you were intrigued.

Hyugo grinned like he’d just found the perfect way to get under your skin. “It’s simple,” he said, pulling a second stick from the box. “We each take one end, and we eat it toward each other. The goal is to get to the middle without breaking the stick or moving your mouth away.”

You stared at the Pocky stick for a moment, a little skeptical. “And what happens if we get to the middle?” you asked, knowing damn well what kind of ridiculousness was probably going to ensue.

Hyugo gave you an exaggerated shrug, his grin widening. “Well, you could always see where things go,” he said, eyes twinkling with mischief.

The idea of this silly game seemed too ridiculous to resist, so you leaned forward, grabbing one end of the stick and narrowing your eyes at him. “I hope you’re ready to lose,” you teased, trying to play it cool even though your heart was beating a little faster than it should have been.

With a dramatic flourish, Hyugo grabbed the other end of the stick, locking eyes with you. His lips curled into that signature smirk, and for a moment, you both just stared at each other, the tension building in the air.

Then, slowly, he began to lean in, taking a delicate bite of the stick, moving toward you. You mirrored him, taking your own bite, the distance between your lips closing with each second.

The game became something else entirely now. More intimate. As you both continued, the stick grew shorter, your mouths drawing closer.

It was ridiculous. Silly. But also... a little bit fun?

You could feel the heat of his breath against your lips as you leaned in, trying to maintain that careful balance—neither of you wanting to be the first to pull away.

You could see his eyes flicker between your gaze and your lips. You were aware of the closeness now, the tension hanging in the air. Neither of you dared to move back. It was the kind of situation that always had the potential to get a little... well, weird.

And yet, despite it all, you couldn't deny that your heart was racing, your breath shallow. His lips were so close now that you could practically feel the warmth of them against yours. It was like something you couldn’t escape, something that dared you to take that final step.

Hyugo, with a mischievous glint in his eyes, paused for just a second, as if he were weighing his options. And then, without warning, he closed the gap between you, his lips brushing against yours in a soft, teasing kiss.

It was over before you could even fully process it, but your body stayed frozen, your eyes wide as you both pulled away.

The Pocky stick? Gone.

The game? Completely forgotten.

Hyugo's grin was a mixture of smug satisfaction and something else—something unreadable. "Guess you weren't expecting that, huh?"

You blinked a few times, trying to find words to make sense of what just happened. “You cheated,” you said, though your voice lacked its usual sharpness.

There was something oddly vulnerable about the way he’d kissed you—like he was testing the waters, not sure what he was really hoping for, but willing to try anyway.

“Wasn’t cheating,” Hyugo replied with a casual shrug, clearly relishing the way you were looking at him. “Just went for the win.” His voice dropped a little lower as he added, “And maybe I wanted to see how you'd react.”

You shook your head, but a smile tugged at the corners of your mouth. "You're so silly, you know that?"

He just winked, clearly pleased with himself. "Maybe. But you love it."

You sat there for a moment, your thoughts swirling in a chaotic mess. You hadn’t expected it to get this complicated, and yet, here you were. Every touch, every playful moment, every laugh—it felt different now. What started off as a simple arrangement, a way to blow off steam, had somehow evolved into something more... personal.

Are you and Hyugo a thing?

The thought made your head throb. You had made it clear that this was just about relieving stress, no strings attached. You needed it to stay that way. You couldn’t afford to get caught up in something more. You told yourself over and over that you didn’t need more. That you could keep things uncomplicated.

But fuck, fuck, fuck, you were slipping.

The signs were there—his lingering glances, the way he seemed to know exactly when you were upset, the way you looked forward to his presence, even when it wasn’t Friday.

And that kiss just now? That wasn’t a ‘just friends’ kiss.

Hyugo leaned back against the couch, drumming his fingers against the box of Pocky. The movie played on, some detective unraveling a case in the background, but you couldn’t focus—not when Hyugo was still looking at you from the corner of his eye like he was trying to read you like he was waiting.

Trying to ignore the way your pulse had picked up, you forced a smirk, nudging his arm. “So, what? You wanna play fair now?”

Hyugo let out a breathy laugh, shaking his head. “Maybe. Figure I owe you another round, since, y’know… somebody accused me of cheating.”

You rolled your eyes but took the bait, reaching into the box for another Pocky stick. “Fine. We’ll do it your way.” Holding the stick between your lips, you raised a brow at him. “Happy now?”

His grin was back—playful, teasing, but there was something else beneath it, something quieter. He leaned in, biting down on the other end, and for a second, everything felt normal. Just you and Hyugo, playing some ridiculous game like always.

But then—“Do you ever think about us?” His words came so softly, so unexpectedly, that your breath caught in your throat.

You swallowed hard, suddenly aware of how close he was—of the way his breath fanned across your skin, the way his lips were just inches away from yours. His eyes searched yours, waiting. Really waiting this time.

The stick trembled slightly between your lips.

“I…” You tried to find the words, but they felt too heavy on your tongue. What was he asking, exactly? What did he mean?

Was this still a joke to him? Just another playful tease?

Or was it something else?

“Hyugo, I—”

Before you could finish, Hyugo did what he always did—turned everything into a game. With a sly grin, he suddenly leaned in and snapped the last bite of the Pocky stick between his teeth, effectively winning again.

Your lips parted in disbelief as he chewed, looking way too pleased with himself.

“You—”

“Oops,” he said, voice dripping with fake innocence, licking the crumbs off his lips. “Guess I win. Again.”

The shift in tone was obvious—his usual teasing, playful demeanor sliding right back into place like armor. Like, Hyugo had caught you off guard—not just with the question, but with the way he asked it. The way his voice had softened, the way his usual easygoing mask had slipped just enough to make you wonder.

Did he really mean it?

Or was it just another offhand remark, a passing thought that would disappear like all the others?

You studied him for a moment, watching as he casually stretched, shifting to get more comfortable. But you weren’t fooled. His fingers drummed lightly against his knee, his shoulders just a little too stiff.

“Hyugo,” you started again, softer this time.

He looked at you, head tilting slightly, expectant—but that teasing smirk was gone. And that was the worst part.

Because, for once, you knew he wasn’t joking. You should’ve let it go. Should’ve just let a simple never mind slip through your lips like sand, ignored it, buried it beneath the comfort of routine.

But you couldn’t.

Not with him.

“No, wait, what do you mean?” The question left you almost automatically, like an instinct you couldn’t suppress.

Hyugo wasn’t looking at the movie anymore. His focus was entirely on you.

His face was inches away, the dim glow of the screen casting soft shadows over his features. His lips barely parted as he took in a slow, steady breath like he was weighing his next words.

"Us," he repeated quietly.

Your stomach flipped.

“Like… more than this.” His voice was softer now, lacking its usual playful edge. The teasing, the easygoing smirks—it was all stripped away, leaving something raw behind. Something real.

"Do you ever think about what happens after?" He hesitated, eyes flickering to where your legs brushed against each other, the warmth of his skin bleeding through. "When does the arrangement end? Or…" He trailed off, glancing down at the space between you, his expression unreadable for a moment.

You swallowed, throat suddenly dry. You tried to laugh, brushing it off like it was nothing. "Hyugo, we're just… doing this, right? You know the rules. No feelings. Just fun."

But his gaze didn’t shift. He wasn’t smiling anymore, his usual playful demeanor gone.

"That’s not what I asked," he murmured, voice low, almost like he was speaking to himself. His fingers twitched slightly where they rested against your arm. "I asked if you ever think about what happens when this ends."

His thumb brushed gently across the inside of your wrist, tracing slow, absentminded circles against your skin. You felt the warmth of it, the softness, the weight of something unsaid.

Your heart skipped a beat. You should’ve pulled away. You should’ve told him no, of course not, because that was the rule, wasn’t it? But instead, you sat there, your pulse hammering against your ribs, the words stuck somewhere in your throat.

Because you had thought about it.

More than once.

You thought about the way he lingered in your bed on Saturday mornings, and how his laughter stayed with you even after he left.

You thought about the way he always knew when something was wrong—how he showed up, unannounced, arms full of your favorite snacks like he could sense when you needed him before you even realized it yourself.

And worst of all?

You thought about what it would feel like if he wasn’t there anymore. And… you didn’t like that.

Hyugo studied your face, his eyes searching for something—anything—that would tell him what you were thinking.

Truth be told, you wanted to say something dismissive, wanted to put the distance back between you, to remind him that this was just a fling—something with no emotional attachment. But the sincerity in his voice, the weight of the unspoken words hanging between you, made it hard to ignore.

"Hyugo, this was always just supposed to be—"

"Yeah, I know," he interrupted, his voice more serious now like he was reading your mind. He sat up slightly, his hand sliding from your back to your side, his touch lingering longer than usual.

"But I don’t think I’m the only one who’s not… quite so sure anymore."

His words hit you like a punch to the gut. It wasn’t like you hadn’t noticed how things had changed—how his casual touches weren’t so casual anymore, how he stayed over longer than he should, how you found yourself thinking about him outside of those late-night moments.

You were lying to yourself if you didn’t admit that something had shifted, even if you didn’t know exactly what that something was.

Before you could respond, Hyugo moved, swift and conscious, pushing you back against the couch. His weight caged you in—not heavy, not forceful, but there. Unavoidable.

You let out a sharp breath, your hands instinctively gripping his hoodie as he hovered over you, his face dangerously close. His grin was back, playful, teasing—but there was something behind it this time, something almost challenging.

"You’re really gonna sit here and lie to me?" he mused, tilting his head, his fingers ghosting over your arm. "Act like you haven’t thought about it?"

You scoffed, masking the way your pulse stuttered. "Thought about what?" you shot back, feigning ignorance, hoping he’d drop it.

However, Hyugo had never been the type to back off when he wanted something. His hand found your wrist again, pinning it lightly beside your head. "You know what," he said, his voice dropping lower, taking on that infuriatingly smooth tone that always got under your skin. "I just wanna hear you say it."

Your jaw tightened. He was playing with fire. "Hyugo," you warned, trying to push him off, but he barely budged.

Instead, he leaned in closer, eyes narrowing with amusement. "You’re squirming," he observed, grinning. "That means I’m right."

Your patience snapped. "Oh, please," you sneered, throwing your head back against the cushion. "You think just because you look at me all soft and whisper some nonsense, I’ll suddenly fall into your arms? That’s cute, Hyugo. Real cute."

His smirk faltered, just for a second, but he recovered quickly, his grip on your wrist tightening slightly.

"See, there it is," he murmured, almost to himself. "You always do that."

"Do what?" you shot back, your glare unwavering.

"Act like you don’t care. Act like this is nothing." His free hand trailed up your side, slow, calculated.

"Like I’m nothing."

Your breath hitched, but you clenched your jaw, refusing to let it show.

"You are nothing," you said cruelly, knowing damn well it was a lie. "Just my Friday night guy, right?"

The moment the words left your lips, something flickered in his expression—something raw, something real. But instead of pulling away, he did the opposite.

Hyugo dipped his head, his nose brushing against your cheek, his breath warm against your ear.

"Say it again," he murmured.

Your fingers curled into his hoodie, your body betraying you even as you glared up at him.

"Say it like you mean it."

You refused to give him the satisfaction.

You refused to lose to the likes of him.

With a sharp inhale, you grabbed a fistful of his hair and yanked his head back, forcing him to look at you. But instead of a pained reaction, Hyugo let out a quiet groan—low and pleased, his eyes darkening as he licked his lips.

Your stomach dropped. Oh. Right. You were so used to topping him, you should’ve known. Of course, he liked it.

The realization made you falter just enough for him to strike. His hand tightened around your wrist again, his other arm bracing against the couch as he leaned back down, his face just inches from yours.

"You always do this," he murmured, voice a little breathless, but filled with something dangerously smug.

"Act all tough, pretend you're not affected, but—" He smirked, tilting his head, his hair still mussed from your grip.

"You’re still holding onto me."

You gritted your teeth, ready to push him off, to deny it all over again—

But then he shifted his weight, pressing closer, and your body reacted.

Damn it.

"You wanna know the truth?" His voice was barely above a whisper now, coaxing, coaxing, coaxing you into saying something you weren’t ready to admit. "Say it," he urged. "Or I’ll make you."

You clenched your jaw, glaring up at him, hating the way he got under your skin. "Fuck you," you muttered.

Hyugo only chuckled, his fingers brushing over your jaw, his nose ghosting against your cheek again. "You wish."

And then—before you could stop yourself—the words slipped out.

"I think about it, okay?"

The air left the room. Hyugo stilled, his teasing smile fading into something softer, something unreadable. You could feel his breath against your skin, feel the heat of him so close. "Say it again," he murmured.

You swallowed hard, your mind screaming at you to shut up, to fix this, to deny, deny, deny—but the truth was already out, and you couldn’t take it back. "...I think about us," you admitted, barely above a whisper.

Something in his expression shifted—something you didn’t have time to process before his mouth was on yours. It was sudden, almost desperate, his lips crashing against yours like he’d been waiting for this, starving for this.

You gasped against his mouth, your grip on his hair tightening as he deepened the kiss, his body pressing flush against yours.

Wait—wasn’t this supposed to be movie night?

How the hell did it turn into this? Not that you were stopping him.

Not when his hands were sliding up your waist, gripping you like he was afraid you’d disappear. Not when his mouth was moving against yours, hungry, like he was making up for all the times you hadn’t kissed like this. Not when every tilt of his head, every teasing nip of his lips, sent a heat curling deep in your stomach.

No, you weren’t stopping him at all.

Because right now, he wasn’t just your Friday night guy—he was yours.

Hyugo pulled back slightly, breathless, his forehead resting against yours. His fingers traced slow, lazy circles against your hip as he smirked. "So," he murmured, voice low and teasing, "does this mean you actually like me, or are you just making out with me out of pity?"

You scoffed, rolling your eyes, though your face was burning. "Oh, shut up."

His grin widened. "That’s not a denial."

You sighed, glaring at him half-heartedly. "You really wanna know why I agreed to this whole arrangement in the first place?"

Hyugo arched a brow, a smirk playing at his lips, but there was curiosity in his eyes. "Obviously. Enlighten me."

You hesitated for a split second before deciding, fuck it, you were already in too deep. "You looked…" You dragged your fingers through his already messy hair, watching how his breath hitched slightly. "Lowkey fuckable."

His smirk widened, his ego practically inflating right in front of you. "Oh? That’s all?"

You hummed, feigning thoughtfulness. "I mean… yeah. You were kinda like a snackaroo to me."

His grin faltered. "A what?"

You fought the laugh bubbling in your throat. "A snackaroo. Y’know—a small meal you have between breakfast, lunch, and dinner. A little treat to tide me over." You leaned in slightly, your voice dropping to something teasing. "Whenever I was bored. Stressed. You were my little snack."

Hyugo stared at you, blinking before he burst out laughing. "Oh, that’s messed up. I was just a quick fix for you?"

"At first," you admitted, lips quirking. "You were convenient, always there, always good—" Your fingers traced along his jaw, feeling the tension beneath your touch. "But then… you became something else."

His laughter faded, replaced by something quieter. "Something else?"

You swallowed, suddenly feeling too bare, too exposed.

But this was Hyugo.

The little short shit who always knew when to push and when to let you be.

“You balanced me all right,” you murmured, your thumb brushing gently over his cheek, the touch tender and lingering. “Made me laugh when I didn’t feel like it. Kept me in check when I got too stuck in my head. And somehow, without even trying, you became…”

Your voice wavered, the weight of the words catching in your throat before you finally pushed them out. “More.”

Hyugo’s usual smirk faded, replaced by something softer, something genuine. His fingers slid along your waist, pulling you closer, anchoring you to him. “Damn,” he muttered, his voice low and rough, but with a hint of awe. “You really got it bad for me, huh?”

You rolled your eyes, scoffing. “Shut up.”

But he only grinned wider, his hands tightening around you. “Nah, I like this. You like me. Admit it.”

“Nah, not anymore…” you sighed, feigning indifference, but the way your body leaned into his betrayed you.

Suddenly, his hands slipped under your shirt, his fingers skimming over your skin before finding your breasts. He froze for a moment, his breath hitching when he realized you weren’t wearing a bra. A devilish smirk spread across his lips as his fingers immediately began toying with your nipples, pinching and twisting them between his thumb and index finger.

“You’re such a liar,” he teased, his voice dripping with amusement. “Look at you, baby. I haven’t even done anything, and your nipples are already hard!” He laughed, the sound low and warm, sending a shiver down your spine.

Before you could snap back with a retort, his lips crashed into yours in a kiss that was slower this time—deeper, more deliberate. It wasn’t just playful or teasing anymore; there was a weight to it, a steady intent in every brush of his mouth against yours.

His hands weren’t just roaming now; they were exploring, tracing the shape of your body like he was committing every curve to memory. Every touch, every press of his fingers against your skin, felt like he was marking you—not in a way that claimed ownership, but like he was engraving himself into your very being.

You caved, of course. How could you not?

His lips left yours, trailing down to your neck, where he latched on with wet, open-mouthed kisses. He sucked and bit at your soft skin, leaving hickeys and love bites scattered everywhere.

Hyugo needed to mark you, needed everyone to know that you were his.

Just the thought of owning you made his body thrum with anticipation, his desire evident in the way his hands gripped you tighter, the way his breath hitched against your skin.

You let out breathy whimpers, your body arching into his touch, and you felt his smirk against your neck. “Your sounds are so pretty,” he whispered huskily in your ear, his voice sending a jolt of heat straight to your core. “Need to hear more.”

Hyugo had waited so long for this, for you, in his own little way.

You could feel it in how his movements were softer now, in the careful way he touched you, as if he was afraid to break something fragile. The little shit had waited for his turn—and now, here he was, taking it.

He wasn’t just kissing you for the hell of it, or because you two were in some arrangement. He was kissing you like he wanted to make his mark like he was trying to show you that there was more to this than whatever casual thing you’d been doing.

And you let him. You let him because, deep down, you knew it too.

It wasn’t long before the two of you stumbled into the sanctuary of your bed, the cool sheets brushing against your bare skin as you lay back, sending a delicious shiver rippling down your spine. The room was bathed in a soft, intimate glow, the air thick with anticipation and something deeper—something that hadn’t been there before.

You hadn’t even noticed when or how your or his clothes had disappeared, scattered somewhere between the door and the bed, lost in the heat of the moment. All you knew was that Hyugo was there, his body hovering over yours, his presence both commanding and tender.

His weight was perfectly balanced, careful not to press too hard, as if he was afraid of shattering the delicate, electric tension that crackled between you.

But this wasn’t the same Hyugo you’d known before. There was a reverence in the way he moved now, his hands braced beside you, his body steady but not overwhelming. He wasn’t rushing, wasn’t treating this like just another fleeting encounter.

No, he was savoring every second, every breath, every touch, as if this moment—you—mattered to him in a way that went beyond the physical.

His eyes locked onto yours, soft and loving. His fingers traced the curve of your jaw, his touch feather-light as if he was memorizing every detail of you. The way his breath hitched when your skin brushed against his, the way his chest rose and fell in time with yours—it all felt different.

This wasn’t just another casual arrangement, another Friday night deal to blow off steam.

This was different now. And you were both falling into it, together.

"Are you sure about this?" His voice was low, barely above a whisper, his lips brushing against your cheek in a kiss that was soft but held a weight that made your heart race.

His hands remained steady, braced against the bed to keep his body from fully pressing into yours, but the warmth of his chest against yours was undeniable. You could feel the heat rising between you, a burning, magnetic pull that only intensified with every second.

Your pulse raced as his question hung in the air, the vulnerability in his tone catching you off guard.

Your lips parted, and the words were almost a confession. “Yes,” you whispered back, your voice betraying the uncertainty you were trying to mask. But you reached up, letting your hand trail along his neck, fingers tracing the curve of his Adam’s apple.

You pressed gently, feeling his pulse beneath your fingertips. His eyes softened, something flickering in them, a mix of tenderness and desire. But before he could say anything, you gently pushed him back, just enough to create some space.

“How about I’ll be your snack tonight?” you purred, your voice softer than you intended, but laced with a quiet defiance that dared him to take the bait.

“Do whatever you pleases, I give you full say-so.”

The words slipped out before you could add on, and for a moment, you regretted how much you’d exposed yourself. You hadn’t meant to be so vulnerable, hadn’t meant to hand him the reins so completely—but the truth was undeniable.

You wanted him.

No, you craved him.

You wanted him to ravish you, to use you, to take you apart piece by piece until there was nothing left but the two of you, tangled and breathless.

But before you could retreat, before you could pull back the words or the unspoken invitation that had slipped through your defenses, it was too late. Hyugo’s smirk returned, sharper and more deliberate than before, his eyes locking onto yours with a predatory focus that sent a shiver racing down your spine.

He didn’t need another invitation.

He didn’t need permission.

He already knew what you wanted—what you needed—and he was more than ready to deliver.

His fingers brushed against your soaked pussy with a confidence that made your breath hitch. “Oh, so wet for me already?” he teased, his voice low and dripping with amusement. His chuckle reverberated through you, sending a fresh wave of heat pooling between your thighs.

His fingers danced over your slick folds, gathering the evidence of your desire and spreading it over your sensitive bundle of nerves. He circled slowly, deliberately, his touch light but maddening, each stroke sending sparks shooting through your body.

You squirmed beneath him, your hips instinctively arching into his touch, but he held you steady, his other hand gripping your hip with a firmness that made your pulse race.

“So eager,” he murmured, his voice a mix of admiration and mischief. “But I’m not done playing yet.” He continued to tease you, his fingers exploring every inch of you, driving you closer and closer to the edge without letting you fall.

But then, his control snapped.

“Fuck, baby, I can’t wait anymore,” he growled, his voice rough with need. “I need you. Now.” He was quick to close the distance, his body still on top of you, pressing against yours with an urgency that left no room for hesitation. His hands, his presence, his very being demanded your surrender.

And then, with a boldness that stole your breath, he dove in, his cock sliding between your breasts with a rhythm that was rough and quick.

The sensation was electric, a wild, crackling current that surged through you as his skin slid against yours, setting every nerve ablaze.

Your body responded with a hunger of its own, your breasts pressing together, soft yet firm, as if they were made to cradle him. Your fingers curled into fists at your sides, not to hold back, but to amplify the pressure, to create a snug, velvety haven that enveloped him completely.

You didn’t need your hands—this was all about the intoxicating friction, the way your body seemed to know exactly how to hold him, how to tease and tempt without a single touch of your fingers. The air between you grew thick with gasps and moans, a symphony of desire that made time itself pause as if the universe was holding its breath just to watch.

Every thrust, every desperate grind, was a fiery declaration of the bond you shared—a raw, unspoken language of need and passion that neither of you could resist. And as he moved between your breasts, his breath hot and ragged above you.

Hyugo’s baby blue eyes locked onto yours, soft and smoldering with a mix of mischief and desire, as he watched you take control—only to surrender it right back to him.

The way you guided him, the tip of his cock brushing against your lips, sent a jolt of anticipation through him. His breath hitched, and a wicked grin spread across his face as he realized what you were offering.

“Oops,” he teased, his voice low and dripping with playful arrogance as if the idea had just dawned on him. But there was no hesitation in his movements. With a firm grip on the back of your head, he pushed forward, his cock sliding past your lips and into the warmth of your mouth. The sensation was overwhelming for both of you—his groan mingled with your muffled whimper, a symphony of pleasure and surrender.

He didn’t hold back, his hips moving with a rhythm that was both demanding and intoxicating. Each thrust was deliberate, a claim, a reminder of the power he now held over you. Yet, there was something tender in the way he watched you, his gaze never leaving yours, as if he was savoring every second of this intimate control.

Your hands found their way to his thighs, not to push him away, but to steady yourself, to anchor yourself in the storm of sensations. The taste of him, the weight of him on your tongue, the way he filled your mouth completely—it was all-consuming. And as he fucked your mouth with a rhythm that left you breathless, you could feel the tension building, the heat between you reaching a fever pitch.

Hyugo’s breath came in ragged bursts, his voice a low growl as he murmured your name, a mix of praise and desperation.

“That’s it,” he coaxed, his fingers tangling in your hair, guiding you gently but firmly. “Take it all.”

The rhythm between you escalated, a feverish, unrelenting tempo that left no room for hesitation. Hyugo’s movements grew erratic, his control slipping as his body coiled tight like a spring ready to snap. And then it happened—his hips stuttered, his breath caught, and a low, guttural groan tore from his throat, raw and unfiltered.

You felt it before you saw it: the sudden warmth of his release, the first pulse landing hot and heavy on your waiting tongue, while the rest painted your cheeks and chin in messy, glistening streaks.

He pulled back, his chest rising and falling in ragged waves, a faint blush creeping across his face as a sheepish grin tugged at the corners of his lips. “Sorry… I didn’t mean to—” he started, his voice trailing off, but the flicker in his eyes gave him away. That sly, almost guilty glint, the way his words wavered just enough to betray the lie—it was all too obvious.

He wasn’t sorry—not really. And neither were you.

You didn’t let him off the hook. A sighed as your tongue wiped at the corner of your mouth with a deliberate flick of your tongue, savoring the taste of him. “Didn’t mean to? Really, Hyugo?” Your tone was light, teasing but edged with a sharpness that made his grin falter, his confidence wavering under your gaze.

You huffed, averting your eyes as a muttered complaint slipped out, “So annoying…”

A flicker of irritation crossed Hyugo’s features as he leaned in, his hands gripping your wrists and pinning them above your head with a grip that was just shy of too tight.

“You’ve got a smart mouth,” he growled, his voice low and dangerous, though there was a hint of a pout in there somewhere. “You say this is my chance, but you’re always so mean to me.” He said it with an almost adorable whine—if he wasn’t currently manhandling you like a feral raccoon who’d just found a treasure trove of snacks.

Before you could retort, he pushed you back onto the bed, his weight pressing you into the mattress like he was trying to imprint you into it. He spread your legs wide, positioning himself between them with a determination that was both impressive and slightly concerning.

And then—oh.

You gasped as he entered you in one swift, deep thrust, bottoming out inside you with a force that left you breathless. It was like he’d been launched out of a cannon, all pent-up energy and zero patience. His pace was frantic, almost comically so, like he was trying to win some kind of gremlin gold medal in the ‘Who Can Fuck the Fastest’ Olympics.

Now, it seemed like he was taking your comment personally. Pity.

“Hyugo—!” you managed to choke out, but he wasn’t listening. His eyes were sharp, and focused, his breath coming in short, ragged bursts as he drove into you again and again, each thrust harder and faster than the last. It was overwhelming, ridiculous, and somehow perfect.

“You’re so—” he started, his voice breaking as he struggled to form words between thrusts, “—so fucking mean, but I—ah—I can’t stop—”

You couldn’t help but laugh, the sound bubbling up even as your body quivered under his relentless, almost punishing rhythm. “You’re such a gremlin,” you managed to tease, though the words came out fragmented, breathless, more of a gasp than anything coherent.

He didn’t deny it. Instead, he leaned down, his lips grazing the shell of your ear as he murmured, “Your gremlin,” his voice low and dripping with possessiveness. And then, as if to drive the point home, he surged forward, his pace intensifying, each thrust deeper, harder, more deliberate—like he was determined to brand himself into your very being.

But then, just as you were beginning to lose yourself in the rhythm, he slowed. Painfully, excruciatingly slow, drawing out every movement until you were squirming beneath him, desperate for more. “Do you still think I’m annoying?” he giggled, his tone light and teasing, but his eyes glinted with mischief.

You glared up at him, your frustration evident. “Go faster,” you demanded, your voice strained.

He shook his head, that cheeky smile of his spreading wider. “Say please, and I will.”

You scoffed, your pride flaring. “Aww, In your dreams.”

His expression shifted, a playful frown tugging at his lips as he grabbed your face, his grip firm but not unkind. And then, without warning, he snapped his hips forward, his pace turning brutal, each stroke deep and unrelenting, punishing most deliciously. Your breath hitched, your body arching as a strangled cry escaped your lips.

“Wha—wait, wait—fuck,” you pleaded, your voice breaking under the onslaught.

“Nuh-uh,” he chided, his tone mock-stern. “I’m sick of you being so mean to me.”

“Hyugo, fuck, please—” your voice broke, trembling as the pleasure coiled tighter, threatening to snap. “Please, please—” you begged, your words spilling out in a desperate, breathless chant. Your resolve was crumbling, your body trembling beneath him as you teetered on the edge of something overwhelming, something you couldn’t control.

And then he smiled—that smile.

A slow, satisfied, almost predatory grin spread across his lips as he watched you come undone. This was exactly where he wanted you: whimpering, pleading, completely at his mercy. It was a sight he’d fantasized about more times than he could count. Him, finally topping you? It was almost too good to be true.

His mind flashed back to all those nights when you were the one in control when you’d straddled his lap, teasing and taunting him with that perfect mix of cruelty and kindness.

You’d shown him what it meant to be taken care of, and he’d loved every second of it—your dominance, your confidence, the way his breathy little whines had escaped despite his best efforts to stay composed. But now? Now the tables had turned, and he was the one driving you wild.

He felt your tight, warm walls clenching around him, and it was all he could do to keep himself together. His hips moved with a relentless rhythm, pressing you into the mattress as he claimed you in a way that left no doubt who was in charge now. His eyes rolled back, a shuddering moan tearing from his throat—a sound so raw, so scandalous, it made your cheeks burn.

His fingers gripped the sheets like they were the only thing keeping him grounded, his mouth falling open as he panted above you, his sweet, innocent lips betraying just how much he was losing himself in you.

But even as he took control, even as he pinned you beneath him, he couldn’t seem to shake that needy, begging side of himself.

“More—I need more of you,” he whined, his voice trembling, his hands roaming your body, gripping and squeezing your soft flesh as if he couldn’t get enough. His mouth sought yours in a clumsy, desperate kiss, his breath hot and ragged against your lips as he tried—and failed—to muffle the sounds escaping him.

From below, you watched him with a mix of awe and amusement, your brain short-circuiting as he moaned your name in that breathy, broken way of his.

It was almost comical, the way Hyugo tried so hard to wear the mask of control, to play the part of the confident, commanding lover. But beneath that façade, he was unraveling, his voice trembling, his body quivering with need.

Oh, no. No matter how much he tried to take charge, no matter how fiercely he gripped your hips or how deeply he thrust into you, he could never quite shake off that pleading, desperate side of himself. It was always there, lurking just beneath the surface, waiting to break free.

And maybe—just maybe—he needed a little help to let it out.

Your fingers tangled in his soft hair, tugging gently but firmly, forcing his gaze to meet yours. His eyes, dark and hazy with desire, locked onto you as you moaned, “Eyes on me, baby boy, come on.” He obeyed instantly, his breath hitching as he stared at you, completely captivated.

“Keep pushing, I know you can do it. You’re doing so well,” you murmured, your voice dripping with praise, each word a sweet caress that seemed to fuel him even more.

A soft, needy moan escaped his lips, and he dipped his head down to suck at your breast, his tongue swirling in a way that made your back arch. But then he looked up at you, his eyes wide and pleading, like a lost puppy begging for guidance.

“Too much…” he whined, his voice barely above a whisper, his hips stuttering as they moved desperately against yours, chasing his release.

You couldn’t help but smile, your hands sliding down to his hips, stilling his movements just enough to tease him.

“C’mon, you’re so close, I can feel it. You’re making me feel so good,” you cooed, your words a soft melody whispered into his ear. “Can you do that for me, baby? Can you give me everything you’ve got?”

He nodded frantically, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps. “Yes… yes, ma’am. Please— I love you. I love you,” he babbled, his voice breaking as he clung to you, his body trembling with the effort to hold back.

“I’ll make you feel so good,” he promised, his voice low and rough, each word dripping with a mix of determination and adoration. His hands gripped your hips tighter, his body moving in sync with yours as you guided him back into rhythm. Your fingers dug into his skin, urging him deeper, harder, faster—every thrust was a testament to the raw, unbridled connection between you.

And then it happened.

His control shattered, his body trembling as he finally let go, a guttural moan tearing from his throat as he came undone. You felt every shudder, every pulse, every wave of his release, and a surge of triumph washed over you.

This was your doing.

You had unraveled him, piece by piece, until there was nothing left but pure, unfiltered ecstasy.

But then, as his breathing began to steady, he leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear, and whispered something that made your eyes widen in disbelief.

“I’ll be the first and last to give you the best fuck in your life.”

Wait, what now?

You blinked, your mind momentarily short-circuiting as his words sank in. A playful smirk tugged at your lips, and you couldn’t help but laugh at the sound of light and teasing. “Oh, really?” you shot back, your tone dripping with mock skepticism. “Bold words for someone who just came apart like a house of cards.”

His cheeks flushed, but he didn’t back down, his grin turning cocky as he nipped at your neck. “Don’t you want me to make you feel good?” Hyugo’s voice was soft, almost innocent, but the glint in his pleading eyes told a different story. You barely had time to process his words before he was on you again, fucking you hard and deep, his fingers pinching and teasing your breast until a sharp moan tore from your lips.

“Shit, I-I do…” you mumbled, your voice trembling as you tried to catch your breath. “Baby boy, aren’t you going a little—“

“—so you’ll take more of me, right?” he interrupted, not giving you a chance to finish before he slammed himself back into your swollen, aching pussy. The force of it knocked the air out of your lungs, leaving you gasping dryly before your head fell back onto the pillow beneath you in defeated pleasure.

Your fingers clutched at the soft sheets of the plushie, holding on for dear life as he took control.

Shit, what is this??? Your mind raced, trying to make sense of the whiplash. One moment, he was this sweet, submissive boy begging for your praise, and the next, he was flipping the script, dominating you with a confidence that left you reeling.

This little short shit loved playing with your body, loved keeping you on edge, and you were both frustrated and turned on by it.

“F-fuck…” Hyugo let out a soft moan, his hand pressing against his stomach as if he could feel just how deep he was inside you. His thrusts were sloppy and wet, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room. His heavy balls pressed against your soaked ass, a mix of sweat and cum making everything slick and overwhelming.

The overstimulation was too much, your body betraying you as your pussy clenched and spasmed, cumming over and over against your will. It was just how he liked it—just how you liked it, even if you wouldn’t admit it out loud.

“H-Hyugo, please… ca-can’t… I…” you mumbled, your head falling back as your body writhed beneath him, completely at his mercy.

“Shh, don’t ne-need you to do anything, okay..?” he stammered, his voice shaky but firm. “J-jusT take it… and it’ll all be over soon…”

God, he treats sex like a damn guessing game, your mind hazy with pleasure. You didn’t understand why he played these little power games, especially when he knew your body better than you did. He knew exactly how to make you squirm, how to make you beg, and how to flip the script just when you thought you had the upper hand.

His thrusts grew even sloppier, but he somehow managed to keep that same frantic, relentless pace. His moans became higher-pitched, more desperate, his hands gripping your hips so tightly you were sure there’d be bruises tomorrow.

But you didn’t care—not when every thrust sent shockwaves of pleasure through your body, not when his voice broke as he whispered your name like a prayer.

“F-fuck… you’re so… so good…” Hyugo panted, his voice breaking as his rhythm began to falter, his thrusts growing erratic and desperate. His body was coiled tight, every muscle trembling as he teetered on the edge of release. “J-just… a little more…” he begged, his words slurred and breathless, his hips stuttering as he fought to hold on just a little longer.

You could only nod weakly, your own body too overwhelmed, too lost in the haze of pleasure to do anything but take what he gave you. Your moans were shaky, your hips meeting his thrusts with a frantic urgency that told him you were close—so close.

“F-fuck, I’m gonna cum!” he whined, his head thrown back, his mouth wide open as he chased his release with reckless abandon. His smirk was fleeting, a flicker of smug satisfaction as he hovered over your quivering form, his lips peppering kisses along your neck, his breath hot and ragged against your skin.

His fingers found their way to your puffy, sensitive clit, his thumb pressing down and drawing fast, tight circles that sent electric shocks of pleasure shooting through you. He was determined to push you over the edge with him, to make you fall apart in his arms.

And fall apart you did.

The moment your climax hit, it was like a dam breaking—waves of pleasure crashing over you, your walls clenching around him, milking him for everything he was worth. He came almost instantly, hot ropes of thick cum shooting deep inside you, his moans loud and unrestrained, a symphony of whimpers and grunts that only made you more sensitive, more aware of every inch of him.

“H-haa… please keep milking my cock… fuck just like that…” he groaned, his pace slowing to a sensual, deliberate rhythm, his hips rolling against yours as he rode out the last waves of your shared ecstasy.

When he finally pulled back, his smirk was replaced by a devilish grin, his eyes dark with satisfaction as he took in the sight of you—flushed, trembling, and utterly ruined. He leaned in, capturing your lips in a soft, lingering kiss before pulling out, his hot, sticky seed already leaking from your well-used pussy.

But he wasn’t done yet. With a sly chuckle, he gathered the pearly remnants of your lovemaking on his fingers and pushed them back inside, his touch possessive, almost reverent. “Can’t let it go to waste,” he murmured, his voice low and teasing.

His grin widened as he leaned over you, his predatory gaze locking onto yours. “Wanna go to bed for round two, babe?” he asked, the gleam in his eyes unmistakable, his tone dripping with playful mischief.

Oh, no—he wasn’t letting you get away so easily this time. Not when he finally had you exactly where he’d always dreamed. Because at the end of the day, Hyugo wasn’t just a snackaroo anymore.

He was the whole damn meal. I’m so damn corny

#the kid at the back hyugo #tkatb hyugo #hyugo sugimoto #hyugo x reader #tkatb smut #tkatb x reader #tkatb #tkatb vn #the kid at the back x reader #the kid at the back vn #the kid at the back smut #the kid at the back mc

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noorpersona · 3 months ago

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Jealousy: Iwaizumi

Iwaizumi was good at controlling himself.

He had to be—he worked in a gym, surrounded by athletes, lifters, and fitness junkies who all looked like they were carved from stone. He’d seen enough shirtless guys flexing in mirrors to be immune to it.

Or at least, he thought he was immune.

Until today. Until this guy.

Some shredded gym bro with veins popping, abs tight, sweat glistening just right under the gym lights, standing at the bench press and calling for you.

Not him. Not any of the other trainers. You.

“Hey,” the guy said, voice smooth, cocky. “Think you can check my form?”

You—being the professional, non-suspecting menace that you are—nodded immediately. “Sure thing.”

Iwaizumi didn’t react at first. Just kept his eyes on you from across the room, his towel draped over his shoulder, fingers twitching slightly against the water bottle in his hand.

Because he already knew what was coming.

He knew what this guy wanted.

And so did you.

But that didn’t stop you from walking over, from crouching beside the guy, adjusting his grip, your fingers brushing against his forearm, his bicep, your voice sweet and focused.

Iwaizumi exhaled sharply through his nose.

You weren’t even flirting. You were genuinely coaching him. Adjusting his wrist placement, explaining the mechanics of the movement, giving clear, professional advice.

But the guy? He was milking it.

“Oh, like this?” he asked, purposefully getting it wrong again.

You frowned slightly, stepping closer, placing your hands lightly on his arms to guide him. “Not quite. Here, you should feel tension through your chest, not just your shoulders.”

You gave him a quick tap on his tricep, then his pec. “Feel that?”

The guy grinned. “Not really. Maybe I just need a better pump.”

Iwaizumi rolled his neck, a muscle in his jaw ticking.

You, ever the dedicated trainer, didn’t immediately clock the bullshit. Instead, you pressed lightly against his bicep, checking the engagement. “It should activate here—”

The guy flexed slightly, purely for show.

And that’s when Iwaizumi had enough.

He made his way over, casual but not really, and stopped beside you, tilting his head slightly.

“Boss is looking for you,” he said, voice low and impossible to argue with. “I’ll take over.”

You blinked, raising an eyebrow. “Wait, what—”

But he was already guiding you away, firm but careful, not giving you a chance to protest before turning back to the guy.

“Alright, man.” Iwaizumi cracked his knuckles, rolling his shoulders. “Let’s see that form.”

The guy nodded, picked up the bar—

And immediately, his form was perfect.

Not a single issue.

Iwaizumi just stared. “Huh.”

The guy hesitated, shifting awkwardly. "Uh… well, I just need a spot."

Iwaizumi nodded slowly, expression unreadable. "Oh. Yeah? No problem."

As he stepped into position behind the bench, you decided to check if your boss had actually needed you. You made your way toward the reception desk, leaning over slightly. "Hey, did the boss ask for me?"

The receptionist frowned, shaking their head. "Nope. Haven't seen them call for anyone."

You paused, then huffed out a small laugh, shaking your head to yourself. "It’s alright."

Turning around, you smiled knowingly.

By the time you returned, Iwaizumi was finishing up with the guy. "Yeah, your form is practically perfect now. Looks like that advice really helped."

The dude muttered a quick "Thanks" before grabbing his towel and heading toward the lockers, a little too quickly.

You raised a brow at Iwaizumi. "Boss didn't need me for anything."

He didn’t even flinch. "Huh. Weird."

You stared at him, lips twitching. "Super weird."

His smirk was casual, smug. "Well, he really did improve, didn’t he?"

You hummed, stretching your arms overhead before tilting your head at him, eyes playful. "If only I had someone to improve my form..."

Before you could take another step, his hand was on your waist, firm, warm, pulling you back against him. His other hand slid down, palming your ass with a slow squeeze that made your breath hitch.

He leaned in, voice low and rough. "Just wait until we get home."

#fanfic #writing #haikyuu #drabble #hq x reader #hq #haikyuu!!#haikyuu time skip #implied smut #jealousy #hq iwaizumi #haikyuu iwaizumi #iwaizumi hajime #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi x you #iwaizumi hajime x reader #iwaizumi fluff #haikyu timeskip

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svtiddiess · 5 months ago

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AssCoups

Synopsis: It's not your fault that your boyfriend has such a biteable ass.

Pairing: Seungcheol x afab!reader

Genre: fluff, slight crack, established relationship

Rating: sfw

Word count: 1.1k

Warnings: ass biting but nothing sexual, lemme know if I missed anything!

Note: Is this fueled by my very feral need of sinking my teeth into his ass? ...no.

Thank you always to @tusswrites for beta reading!

Here's your juicy ass Chee @nothoughtsjustfic

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Reblogs are appreciated ♡

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You step out of the bathroom, feeling refreshed after washing away the day’s troubles. Dressed in a comfy oversized hoodie—which you may or may not have stolen from your boyfriend, Seungcheol—and a pair of shorts, you spot him lying shirtless on his stomach on the bed, lazily scrolling through his phone.

You pause, taking a moment to admire him. Even though you can only see his back, it’s still the most handsome view you’ve ever laid eyes on. Your gaze travels from his broad shoulders to his toned back, eventually landing on his undeniably plump butt. Damn, you think, his ass is huge. You hate to admit it, but it might even be bigger than yours.

Smirking, you walk over and sit down beside him, but not before giving his butt a firm squeeze. His surprised yelp makes you laugh.

"You have such a huge ass, Cheollie," you tease, giggling as he turns to look at you, his eyes wide with shock.

His cheeks flush pink as he whines in embarrassment, burying his face into the mattress. The sight only makes you laugh harder.

"It looks so juicy. Can I bite it?" You ask, grinning mischievously.

Seungcheol freezes, his head snapping up to stare at you in a mix of horror and disbelief.

"No, you weirdo!" He screeches, gently pushing you away despite his obvious mortification.

You fall back onto the mattress with a dramatic pout, still giggling at his reaction.

You sit back up, pouting and giving him your best puppy eyes.

"Please?" you plead, your voice sweet and hopeful.

"No," he replies firmly, completely unmoved by your attempt to charm him.

"C’mon, just one bite!" you whine, flailing your arms dramatically like a child mid-tantrum.

"Y/N, you are not biting my ass," he deadpans, his expression unamused.

Scowling, you flop down next to him, turning your back to him as you sulk. He chuckles at your childish antics before wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into a warm hug. Despite the gesture, you stay stubbornly faced away, refusing to give in.

Out of nowhere, you feel his fingers digging into your sides, tickling you mercilessly. You yelp and burst into laughter, wriggling to escape his grasp, but his hold is ironclad.

"Seungcheol! Stop!" you shriek between fits of laughter, squirming as he continues his relentless attack.

He laughs along with you, clearly enjoying your struggle, then suddenly flips the both of you so he’s hovering above you. Pinning your wrists above your head with one hand, he uses the other to keep tickling you.

"Cheol! I yield! I yield!" you cry out, your stomach aching from laughing so much.

"Do you really?" he teases, raising a brow.

"Yes! Please, I can’t take it anymore!" you plead, breathless.

Finally, he lets go, chuckling as he rolls off and lies down beside you. You take a moment to catch your breath, the room falling silent except for your heavy breathing. Turning to face him, you flash him an innocent look.

"Just one bite?" you ask again, batting your eyelashes.

Seungcheol groans, turning to you with an exasperated expression. "Princess—"

"It’s not my fault your ass looks so juicy and biteable!" you defend, throwing your hands up dramatically.

His cheeks turn a deep shade of pink, and he groans in embarrassment, hiding his face in his hands. Seizing the moment, you quickly push him onto his stomach and, before he can react, take a playful bite of his butt.

"Y/N!" he yelps, completely stunned. He flips over to look at you, wide-eyed and slack-jawed.

"They’re just as squishy as I imagined," you say with a devilish grin, your tone unapologetic.

His shock quickly turns into determination as he lunges at you, pinning you to the mattress. You squeak in surprise as he flips you over, pressing you down firmly.

"Cheol, what are you—" Your words trail off into a gasp as you feel him lift your hoodie and nip at your butt.

"C-Cheol!" you squeal, utterly flustered and caught off guard.

He finally lets you go, sitting back with a smug look plastered across his face. "Now we’re even," he declares, smirking triumphantly.

You stare at him, eyes wide and mouth agape, as a beat of silence passes. Then, without warning, you lunge at him again, aiming for his butt.

"Wait, no! I’m sorry!" Seungcheol yells, his voice laced with panic as he scrambles to defend himself. He’s pushed back into the mattress, throwing his hands up in a futile attempt to fend you off.

Laughing, you snap playfully at the air, dodging his grasp as he tries to grab hold of you. But Seungcheol is quick, and with a swift move, he catches your wrists, flipping you over and pinning you down on the bed once more.

"Che—" you start to protest, but your words are cut off as his lips crash into yours. The kiss is sudden and firm, momentarily making you forget everything.

His head tilts slightly, deepening the kiss, and you feel your body relaxing in his hold. When he finally pulls back, his gaze locks onto yours, his eyes soft and pleading.

"Enough with the ass biting, please?" he says, his tone almost desperate.

You pretend to think about it, letting the silence linger just long enough to enjoy his exasperated whine.

"Fine," you say with a giggle. "But only for today."

Seungcheol lets out a relieved sigh, grateful for the temporary truce, though the thought of future "mischief" visibly weighs on him. His grip on your wrists loosens, and one hand moves to gently cup your face while the other rests on your hip.

"Thank you," he murmurs softly before leaning down to kiss you again. This time, the kiss is slower and more passionate, and it sends sparks coursing through your entire body.

Your hands, now free, wander down his back, eventually making their way to his butt. Without hesitation, you give it a firm squeeze mid-kiss.

Seungcheol pulls back with a startled yelp, staring at you in utter disbelief.

"Y/N!" he exclaims, his voice a mix of shock and resignation.

You laugh unabashedly, your grin mischievous. "I couldn’t resist!"

"You’re seriously a handful," he sighs, shaking his head in mock defeat.

"But you still love me," you tease, a playful glint in your eyes.

"Unfortunately," he mutters, though his lips curl into a small smile before he leans in again. This time, he kisses you deeply, pinning your wrists firmly to the bed to keep them far away from his vulnerable backside.

Little does Seungcheol know; you might have just discovered a new obsession with his perfectly plump butt.

Taglist: @tinyelfperson @gyuguys @stay-tiny-things @tomodachiii @unlikelysublimekryptonite @miyx-amour @iamawkwardandshy @codeinebelle @brownbunnyb @do-you-remember-summer-127 @sclovreina @theidontknowmehn @toplinehyunjin @gyuhao365 @mysticfairies @cherrylovescheol @cookiearmy @4shypotato @lxnnrobin @aliiikareed @jennwonwoo

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caitlynstrophywife · 28 days ago

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Catch me if you can, working on my tan

Pairing: Best friends Dad!Leon Kennedy x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2k

Content warnings: Sherry is Leon's Biological daughter, Leon is in early 40s while reader is a college freshman, unprotected sex (don't follow in their footsteps), piv, oral sex (fem recieving), fingering, slight degredation, dom!leon, sub!reader, use of y/n (not during the smut because that's a turn off), not a lot of aftercare due to almost getting caught, DI Leon is what I imagined making this.

Notes: This is my first smut I've made to post, so please leave constructive criticism in the comments! Likes, reposts, etc. are super appreciated :)

At first, you weren’t that excited to spend your spring break away from college at your new friend Sherry's beach house with her dad, of all people. You were expecting a fun time drinking at parties with your classmates. But she had invited you, and you didn’t want to disappoint your newfound best friend by saying no. Guess that’s the way it had to be, playing Monopoly with her dad and going to sleep at 10 pm.

Soon, you would come to be grateful for your choice to blow off getting wasted every night, due to your new eye-candy. Sherry’s dad, Leon, was truly a work of art. You first met him as you stepped into his house, suitcase in hand. He was drinking a cold beer in the kitchen, shirtless and skin dripping with water, clearly he had just been swimming in the pool. His body was chiseled; he belonged on the cover of a fitness magazine. You probably made a bad impression, stumbling over your words a couple of times. He didn’t seem to mind, thank god.

It had been a couple of days since then, Sherry was out buying groceries for the kebabs you two wanted to make for dinner. You decided you wanted to lounge by the pool, unfortunately, this came with an issue. The only bikini you owned was quite small, a thong, and a strappy bikini top. All you could do was hope Leon wouldn’t come over and judge you for your swimwear choices. You got changed in the bathroom and made your way to the kitchen. What’s the enjoyment of getting your tan up without sucking on a popsicle?

You kneeled to get to the freezer, cold air hitting your legs as it opened. Suddenly, you heard footsteps approaching the kitchen. Shit, he was going to see you half ass out. He was in swim shorts, damn, so much for wanting to tan. “Y/N, Hey, do you know where Sherry went?” Leon asked, leaning on the counter beside him. “Oh, uh- she’s out getting food for dinner.” You replied, quickly turning to face him. “Alright… Are you planning on going swimming?” He asked, looking you up and down. It was hard to gauge his expression. Was there a glimmer of desire? Maybe you were delusional. “I was planning on tanning, just getting a popsicle.” You tucked your hair behind your ear. “You know tanning is bad for you, that’s how you get skin cancer, darlin’.” He paused, looking you over again, eyes lingering on your curves. “Why don’t you swim with me?” You were slightly surprised by his request. From his point of view, swimming with a half-naked college girl you barely know? Scandal. You couldn’t resist the offer. “Alright, why not?” You said, standing up and closing the freezer with your foot. “Great,” he started walking to the pool, and you followed behind.

“So, how’d you and my daughter meet then?” He asked, sliding the glass door that led to the outdoor area. “We met in a psychology lecture, and have been pretty close since then.” You half-mumbled. God, your usual confidence was ruined because of this man. “Well, I’m glad she’s found a friend as kind as you, Y/N.” Your heart fluttered slightly. Gosh, No! Think for a second! Imagine if Sherry found out you were into her Dad.

You both walked up to the pool. The water was clear, it was taken care of well. Leon sat on the edge and let himself down into the water first. “Fuck- it’s cold” He cursed, visibly shivering. “Thanks for the warning,” you giggled, sitting on the edge before slowly lowering yourself in. “Holy shit, it’s freezing” your arms quickly wrapping around yourself to conserve heat. You paddled around, trying to warm up, when you felt an arm wrap around you from the side. Leon's body pressed into you from behind. “Feeling warmer?” He asked quietly in your ear. Feeling his stubble against your jaw. “Uhm- y-yeah,” You stuttered, leaning into his touch subconsciously. This was so wrong, but god, you needed him.

His other hand moved to grope your hip, thumb slipping under your thong string. This only heightened your desire. Fuck it, Sherry doesn’t have to know. You turned around in an instant, crashing your lips onto his. The kiss was a bit messy, driven by pure need for each other. He groaned into the kiss, his hand that was wrapped around your side moving to grip your waist. You wrapped your legs around his hips, locking him in. Cunt grinding against the soft bulge in his swim shorts. Providing a little stimulation to your clit.

After a few minutes of making out, he pulled his face back. “I’m a fit man, hun, but I can’t keep us both afloat forever,” He said, breathing heavily. “Wanna get out?” You offered, and he took this opportunity. He practically dragged you to the pool stairs. Once you both got out, he latched his lips back onto yours. You kept making out as you stumbled past furniture, making your way to his bedroom. Somehow, neither of you had fallen over or crashed into something by the time his bedroom door was kicked open and locked.

He picked you up and laid you down on the bed, showing his pure strength. This turned you on even more. He stood above you, water dripping from his muscular frame. “Wait, Shit- have you got protection?” He asked. “Damn it, no” You huffed. He looked visibly frustrated by this, running his hand through his brown hair as he thought. “Are you on birth control? And are you clean?” He sighed, moving his hand to rub your thigh. “Yes to both,” You replied hopefully. You wanted him. “I’ll get you a plan B later, baby.” He locked his lips onto yours again, just for a moment, before pulling back again.

He slipped his swim shorts off quickly, revealing his half-hard cock. It was on the slightly higher end of average in length. But goddamn; it was thick. It’d surely stretch you out to an extent. He had a neatly taken care of patch of hair leading up to just below his belly button.

He climbed back onto the bed, lips moving to press onto your neck, hands moving to undo the tie on the back of your bikini, peeling it away to reveal your perky tits. “Fuck me, you’re so beautiful” he mumbled, stopping his ministrations on your neck to admire the sight of you. “Let's get that thong off. Tempting me so fuckin’ easy with that shit.” You blushed, raising your hips so he could pull it off of you. He threw it across the room. His thumb immediately moved to press against your clit, you whimpering at the sudden nature. “So wet already, easy as pie,” He chuckled.

He rotated his hand, shoving two fingers inside your cunt. You moaned, bucking your hips towards him. “So needy…” He mumbled, starting to thrust his long fingers in and out of your tight pussy. He shuffled his body down onto the floor, kneeling before you in front of the bed. Removing his thumb from your clit. “Let me taste you, c’mon baby,” He grunted against the skin of your thigh as he pressed kisses against it. “Please do,” you replied. How more perfect could this man get? Sexy and a munch.

He immediately dove into you, His tongue pressing against your hole as his nose hit your clit at the perfect angle. You moaned, hand quickly moving to grip his soft hair, pushing him deeper into your cunt. He ate you like you were the best meal he’d had in centuries.

“I’m gonna- I’m gonna cum-” You whimpered, gripping his hair tighter. He growled against your pussy, signalling for you to do let yourself tip over the edge. As his fingers hit the spongy part in your pussy in a last thrust you came, grinding against his face. He slurped your release up, groaning in pleasure. As you came down from your high, your hips fell back onto the bed. “You taste so good,” He commented, licking your juices off his fingers.

“Just s-stop teasing Leon; fuck me” You said breathily. “Whatever you say, ma’am,” He replied, standing back up and leaning over you to kiss your cheek. You blushed at this. He affected you so easily.

He moved on top of you, lining his cock up with your entrance and rubbing your hip comfortingly. “Let me know if it hurts, ‘kay?” He said sweetly. “I will,” You confirmed. He slowly slid the tip in. You whimpered in pain by the time he was about halfway in. He was just so thick, almost too much. “You alright hun?” You tightened around him slightly. “S-sorry, just a stretch.” You said nervously, “You can keep going.” He took a moment to check your expression and see if you were truly alright. He then bottomed out. He grunted, feeling your walls flutter around him. You took a minute to adjust to his size. While you waited, he littered your jaw and neck with kisses, maybe a couple of hickeys you’d have to hide from Sherry later. “You can start now.”

He slowly thrusted in and out of you, getting used to the feeling. You whimpered every time his tip hit your cervix, eyes flickering from his face and where you two were connected. He looked into your eyes, your lips crashing again. The kiss was slow, it almost felt loving, filled with passion. You pulled back from his lips after a while of the leisurely sex. “Leon- I want you to go faster,” you whimpered softly. “Yeah? I can do that.” His hips immediately picked up speed, slamming into you now. His hips hit yours hard, making your tits jiggle with every thrust. “Fuckkk baby- you’re so fuckin’ tight around my dick” He moaned, hands gripping onto your hips to keep himself steady.

His thrusts got harder and harder every time, and you were loving it. You moaned loudly, fingers gripping onto any part of his torso you could reach, fingernails indenting into his back. Let’s just hope you two were finished before Sherry came home and heard the constant slamming of the headboard against the wall. “You like that? You like getting fucked raw by a guy over twice your age? Dirty baby,” He grunted, slamming into you with brute force, somehow harder than before. You would definitely have bruises. “Y-yes, I fuckin' love it!” You tightened around him at his words, bringing you closer to the edge. “You wanna cum again, pretty girl?” He said, his thumb moving to play with your clit again.

This threw you over the edge, your pussy pulsating around him as you came with a loud cry. He kept fucking you hard through your orgasm, chasing his high. You whimpered as you started to get sensitive, every thrust making you more uncomfortable. “I know- I know baby; i’m almost done” He groaned, fucking you with even more speed, thrusts losing rythm. He soon slammed as deep in you as possible, cumming with a roar of pleasure. You felt your insides become warm with his sticky cum. His muscular frame collapsing on top of you.

After you both came back to your senses he pulled out of you, a mix of both of your releases dribbling out of your sore and bruised cunt. “You’re so heavy- get off,” you complained, trying to push him off. “Sorry, princess,” he groaned, turning over to lie next to you. He wrapped his right arm around your body, relaxing his head in the crook of your neck. “Thank you, it’s been a while since I’ve been close with someone like that,” He said softly. “No problem, Mr. Kennedy,” you teased. “You little shi-” His words were quickly interrupted by the sound of the front door to the house shutting. “I’m back, everyone!” You were so fucked.

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unabashegirl · 2 months ago

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Love Island — part 2

AU. Based on the TV show.

Author's note: I just wanted to take a moment to say a massive thank you for the incredible support you’ve shown for the first part of Love Island! Your reblogs, messages, and comments truly mean the world to me — I’ve read every single one with a huge smile on my face. You all make writing this series so much fun 💛

If there’s anything you’d like to see more of — whether it's certain dynamics, steamy moments, fluff, angst, or just pure drama — don’t be shy! My inbox is always open for blurb or one-shot requests.I’d love to bring your ideas to life!

⭐️ Please consider joining my Patreon -> Patreon

It’s only day two, but there’s already trouble in paradise. Y/N’s about to head upstairs to change, and of course, she’s bringing her best mate in the villa along for a little gossip session. After all, what would Love Island be without a bit of a squeak-filled chat about the latest hunk to drop in?

Y/N grabbed Chloe by the arm, a grin spreading across her face. “Come on, we need to talk!”

“Oh, spill, babe!” Chloe squeaked, and the two of them burst into laughter as they darted upstairs to the changing room. The laughter echoed through the villa as the girls nearly tripped over each other, barely containing their excitement.

Looks like someone’s eager for a debrief... but can you blame them? A certain tall, dark, and shirtless someone has all our heads turning.

The door clicked shut behind them as they found a spot in front of the mirror. Y/N rifled through her drawer, trying to look casual as she pulled out a sundress. Chloe leaned in, eyes wide with anticipation.

“Alright, so…” Chloe began, nudging Y/N with her elbow. “Harry! What do we think?”

Y/N tried to keep a straight face, but a giggle slipped out. “Oh, he’s... he’s definitely got a presence, doesn’t he?”

“Presence?” Chloe repeated, rolling her eyes. “Babe, he’s got more than just ‘presence.’ I saw the way he was looking at you. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a bit jealous!”

Y/N bit her lip, looking at her reflection as she adjusted her dress. “I mean, he’s fit, yeah. And the way he carries himself… I don’t know, there’s something about him.”

“Something about him,” she says. Go on, love, you can admit it—you’ve already got it bad! But what will Tom think if he catches a whiff of this little chat?

Chloe raised her eyebrows, a mischievous grin spreading across her face. “Listen, all I’m saying is, if he pulled me for a chat, I wouldn’t mind... but don’t worry, he’s all yours.”

“Oh, stop it!” Y/N said, nudging Chloe’s shoulder with a laugh. “Tom’s going to be fuming if he catches us even mentioning Harry.”

Chloe smirked, flipping her hair. “Let him fume! You’re here to find the one, not keep people happy. And besides, it’s not like Harry’s shy about showing he’s interested in you. Half the villa saw him making his way over to you this morning.”

Half the villa, you say? Well, folks, sounds like Tom may have some competition brewing—and Y/N’s the prize.

The door swung open, and in came Georgia with Lila and Amber, their voices spilling in like a burst of energy.

“There you are!” Georgia exclaimed, hands on her hips as she spotted Chloe and Y/N. “We’ve been looking everywhere for you two.”

“Oi, we’re right here!” Chloe laughed, exchanging a look with Y/N.

Georgia’s face lit up as she plopped down on the bench beside them. “I just have to say it… I really, really fancy Harry. Like, he could actually be the one.”

Chloe glanced sideways at Y/N, eyes widening, clearly trying not to laugh. Y/N looked away, keeping her expression neutral as she fiddled with her bikini strings.

“Oh, absolutely, babe,” Lila chimed in, grinning. “If you don’t make a move, I’m definitely giving him a shot.”

Georgia tossed her hair with a laugh, waving her hand. “Oh, go on then. I allow it. But you better be quick about it, or I’ll be the one nabbing him first.”

The girls dissolved into laughter, but then Georgia’s gaze turned thoughtful, and she leaned back, crossing her arms. “But seriously, though… no one in a stable relationship should be getting involved with him.”

A brief silence fell over the group as the words hung in the air. Chloe raised her brows, glancing again at Y/N with a knowing smile that didn’t go unnoticed.

Y/N chuckled, keeping her tone light. “Well, good thing it’s early days, yeah? Plenty of time for all of us to figure out what we want.”

Ooh, sounds like there’s a bit more at stake here than we thought. With the girls all vying for a piece of Harry, looks like things might heat up faster than anyone bargained for.

Amber crossed her arms and gave Georgia a skeptical look. “Hang on, that makes no sense, Georgia. Isn’t the whole point of Love Island to explore connections? Harry’s the one who should be deciding who he wants to be with, not us making some rule about it.”

Georgia raised an eyebrow, looking a bit taken aback. “Alright, Amber, but I’m just saying, it’s a bit out of line for someone in a solid coupling to be sniffing around him, don’t you think?”

Amber shrugged, not backing down. “If Harry wants to pull me for a chat, I’m not about to follow your silly rule, Georgia. And if he expresses interest in me, I’m definitely not holding back.”

Georgia’s jaw tightened, and she put her hands on her hips. “You know what, Amber? That’s not exactly being a ‘girls’ girl,’ is it? We’re all supposed to be on the same page here.”

Amber rolled her eyes, not missing a beat. “Girls’ girl? I’m here to find a connection, not to stick to some imaginary rulebook.”

Chloe and Y/N exchanged glances, struggling not to laugh at the sudden tension.

Looks like Georgia’s ‘rules’ aren’t quite going over as planned. Will Amber’s bold stance earn her a shot at Harry, or will Georgia’s “girls’ girl” code keep things from getting messy? Well, only time will tell—on Love Island, it’s every girl for herself.

Y/N mouthed “Wow!” at Chloe, eyebrows raised in disbelief. With a quick laugh, she picked up her sunglasses. “Right, I’m heading downstairs to tan and actually enjoy my book. Coming?”

“Absolutely,” Chloe grinned, trailing behind her. The two of them slipped outside and settled by the pool, stretching out on the loungers as Y/N flipped open her book.

Chloe leaned over, her tone quiet but full of curiosity. “So, what do you reckon about Georgia? She’s… a lot.”

Y/N sighed, sliding her sunglasses up her nose. “Yeah, Georgia’s definitely going to be an issue. Her and Tom both. It’s like… they’re more focused on the drama than actually getting to know people.”

Chloe laughed. “Spot on. Can already see her kicking off if Harry so much as looks at anyone else.”

Just then, their best mate in the villa, Callum, strolled over, plopping himself down beside them with a grin. “Alright, ladies. What’s all this gossip without me, eh?”

Y/N chuckled. “Nothing, don’t worry. Just a bit of Georgia talk. You know how it is.”

Callum raised an eyebrow, glancing between them. “I can imagine”

Chloe rolled her eyes. “Tell me about it. What about Tom, though? You talk to him this morning?”

Y/N sighed, closing her book for a moment. “He’s… sweet, but he’s already worried about where my head’s at. Keeps asking if I’m interested in Harry.”

Callum chuckled, shaking his head. “Not surprised. He’s definitely feeling the heat.”

Y/N nudged Callum with a playful grin. “Listen, if you go and tell the other lads any of this, I’ll kill you.”

Callum raised his hands in surrender, laughing. “Alright, alright, not a word. My lips are sealed.”

Chloe leaned in, curiosity glinting in her eyes. “So… what’s the verdict then? What are you feeling?”

Y/N sighed, adjusting her sunglasses as she stared out over the pool. “Honestly? Tom’s… he’s lovely. He’s comfortable, you know? Comforting, even. But there’s no spark, no real passion there. I don’t feel a real connection.”

Chloe nodded, giving her a knowing smile. “That’s exactly it, though, isn’t it? If there’s no fire…”

Callum grinned, nudging her again. “So what you’re saying is… it’s not exactly end game with Tom, yeah?”

Y/N shook her head, a small smile playing on her lips. “Not unless something changes, and fast.”

Well, folks, looks like the door is still wide open for a certain newcomer to spark a little fire in Y/N’s heart. And with Tom in the dark… this just might be the calm before the storm.

t’s challenge time in the villa! And today, it’s all about secrets. The game? Simple: each boy will slide down a massive ramp of slime, grab a card with a girl’s secret written on it, and read it out loud for the whole villa to hear. Then, he’ll make his guess by planting a kiss on the girl he thinks it’s about. Easy? Hardly. With secrets this juicy, the sparks are about to fly.

First up, it’s our very own new boy, Harry. Let’s see what he’s got…

Harry positioned himself at the top of the slippery ramp, a playful grin plastered across his face. With a cheeky shove, he launched himself down the slimy slope, landing with a splash at the bottom. He quickly grabbed the card, shaking off some goo as he read it aloud.

“This girl once went on a date with two different guys on the same night and accidentally mixed them up when they texted her later.”

The villa erupted in laughter, the girls exchanging wide-eyed glances as they tried to suppress their giggles. Harry scanned the group, his gaze landing on Y/N with a playful sparkle in his eyes.

With a confident stride, Harry stepped forward, closing the gap between them. He leaned in, capturing Y/N’s lips with a kiss that was anything but casual. It was deep and steamy, igniting a spark that sent a wave of heat rushing through her. The laughter faded as everyone watched, mouths agape, the chemistry between them palpable.

As he pulled back, a satisfied grin spread across Harry's face. “Well, I had to be sure,” he said, his voice low and playful, leaving Y/N breathless and the others in stunned silence.

The card was flipped, revealing that the secret actually belonged to Lila, much to everyone’s surprise.

Harry laughed, shaking his head. “Shit”.

And there you have it, folks! A kiss that lit up the villa and sent shockwaves through the competition. Harry may have missed the secret, but that kiss? That’s a score for Y/N, and things are just heating up in the Love Island villa!

Next up, it’s Tom’s turn to take the slippery plunge into the chaos of secrets. With a determined look on his face, he approaches the ramp, ready to play his hand in this game of revelations. Will he manage to impress Y/N with his guess, or will he fall flat?

Tom launched himself down the slimy ramp, landing with a splat and swiftly grabbing the card. With a flourish, he read aloud, “This girl once swiped right on her ex’s best mate just to make him jealous, only to have them both show up at her door the next day!”

Laughter erupted in the villa again, and the girls exchanged knowing glances. Tom looked around, scanning the group, and finally settled on Y/N, a cheeky smile on his face. “Alright, let’s see if I can take a shot at this.”

Y/N felt a flutter of anticipation but quickly squashed it down. As Tom stepped toward her, she allowed him to lean in, but she knew she wasn’t feeling the same spark she had with Harry.

Tom’s lips met hers, and while it was nice, it didn’t ignite the fire she had hoped for. It was a brief kiss, lacking the intensity that had come from Harry just moments before. She forced a smile as he pulled back, trying to mask her disappointment.

Tom grinned, clearly pleased with himself. “Was that you?

The card was flipped, revealing that the secret belonged to Chloe.

The room erupted into laughter again, and Y/N couldn’t help but roll her eyes, a small smirk on her face.

Harry shifted uncomfortably, his thoughts racing. Tom’s kiss had seemed so casual, so easy, and yet it had struck something deep within him. He thought back to the kiss he shared with Y/N, how electric it had felt, and how much he wanted to feel that again.

Harry's mind was a whirlwind of confusion and determination. He had only just arrived, yet here he was, feeling the pressure of this unexpected connection. He had to figure out how to navigate this budding relationship amidst the chaos of the villa.

As the laughter continued and the next boy prepared for his turn, Harry caught Y/N's eye across the room. She looked back at him, a curious smile on her lips, and in that moment, he knew he couldn’t just stand by. Something was pulling him towards her, and he needed to act on it before it was too late.

With the game still unfolding and emotions swirling, it was clear that this summer was going to be anything but ordinary. Let the drama begin!

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow over the villa, the atmosphere shifted from playful competition to a more intimate vibe. Y/N stood in front of the mirror, adjusting the straps of her long, tight red dress that hugged her curves perfectly. She felt confident and ready to make a statement, the color a bold choice that echoed her desire to stand out.

Just as she finished primping, a loud voice boomed from downstairs. “I’ve got a text!”

Y/N’s heart raced as she hurried to the top of the stairs, the anticipation hanging in the air. She peered down to see Harry holding his phone, a mischievous grin on his face, surrounded by the other contestants who were equally eager to hear the news.

Harry glanced at the message, a mix of excitement and tension flickering across his face. “Alright, here goes…” He cleared his throat dramatically before reading, “Harry, the time has come for you to choose whom you will be coupling with tonight!”

A hush fell over the group as the weight of the announcement sank in. Y/N felt her stomach drop at the implications of Harry's choice. The tension in the air was palpable, and she could see the other contestants exchanging nervous glances, the gravity of the situation setting in.

“Right, so it’s all on me, then,” Harry said, his playful demeanor giving way to a more serious tone. “No pressure at all, right?”

Y/N’s heart raced at the thought of being chosen—or worse, being left behind. Would Harry choose her? The thrill of the unknown buzzed in the air as she felt the weight of the moment pressing down on her. She wanted to believe that their earlier connection meant something, but the uncertainty lingered.

The warm glow of the fire pit flickered against the backdrop of the villa, casting a cozy ambiance as the night deepened. The contestants sat in their couples, anticipation palpable in the air, their faces illuminated by the dancing flames. All eyes were on Harry, who stood at the front, his usual confidence slightly wavering as he prepared to make his choice.

Harry ran a hand through his hair, his nerves evident as he took a deep breath, steadying himself. “Alright, everyone,” he began, his voice steady but laced with a hint of apprehension. “This is a bit nerve-wracking, isn’t it?”

Laughter rippled through the group, easing the tension just a bit. Harry glanced at Y/N, who sat among the others, her eyes focused on him, a mixture of hope and anxiety swirling within them. He felt a rush of warmth as he continued.

“I’ve had a brilliant time here so far, and it’s all thanks to the amazing people around me. But there’s one girl in particular who’s really stood out to me,” he said, his gaze drifting toward Y/N. “She’s lovely, funny, and everything just feels so easy with her. It’s like I don’t have to force anything; it just flows naturally.”

“I know that we haven’t had a lot of time to get to know each other yet,” Harry continued, “but I feel a real connection with her, something I haven’t experienced in a while.” He paused, letting his words sink in as he gauged the reactions around him.

“And that’s why,” he said, a smile breaking through his nervousness, “tonight, I’ve decided to couple up with Y/N.”

A cheer erupted from the others, and Y/N’s heart soared at his declaration. Relief washed over her as she exchanged a glance with Harry, their eyes locking in a moment that felt electric. The fire crackled beside them, mirroring the excitement in the air, and Y/N couldn’t help but grin as she moved closer to him.

“Looks like Harry has made his choice, and it’s a choice that might just set the villa ablaze!” the narrator’s voice chimed in, the playful tone adding to the vibrant atmosphere. “But with new flames igniting, what does this mean for the other couples? Stay tuned, because the drama is just beginning!”

let me know if you would like me to add you to the tag list!

TAGLIST: @st-ev-ie, @harrystyleshotwife, @valuunit, @familyshow-orisit

--> part 3

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amoristt · 5 months ago

Text

lay your love (on me)

「 ✦ seong gi-hun / reader ✦ 」

tags: nsfw // sub!gi-hon // s1, no games // dry humpingggg // reader wants that cookie bad a/n: only fitting that my first ever squid games post is smut cuz on god. i cannot get whiney pathetic needy gi-hun out of my BRAAAIN i need him so bad

Sometimes you swore Gi-hun could read your mind.

It was 5pm on a quiet sunday, the sun had just started to pack up its shift for the day before the moon took over. Glorious oranges and yellows seeped through the window overlooking your living room. Golden hour was your favorite time of the day. You idly watched the alleyway from your living room table as people began to come home from their jobs and family outings, waltzing past your window, their shadows dancing by as they went. You crossed your legs on the floor, humming. Such a peaceful day.

And yet you were anything but. You’d just come to terms with yet another random bout of friskiness when Gi-hun in all his post-shower glory, dared to step into the living room adorn in just his grey sweatpants. Shirtless, ruffling his towel over his soaked hair before running his hand through the dark locks to push it from his eyes. Little curls stuck to his forehead, and even better, you could watch the droplets absorbing the sun’s light travel down from his shoulders, to his chest, to his navel. Down his happy trail…

You were practically drooling.

“What’s for dinner?” He asked, tossing his towel over a door to hang before he joined you on the floor, totally unaware that you were seconds away from jumping his bones.

You shrug and tap your chin in meaningless thought.

You are, you think.

“Couldn’t tell you. I have no idea what I want. You wanna pick?”

“Not really.” Gi-hun sighs deeply with a shrug. “I’d rather not cook today. I’m too tired. I had such a long day yesterday, and then I woke up today with some back pain, and blah, blah, blah-”

You aren’t even listening to him, if you’re being honest. You can already feel your pulse start to quicken under your skin. By the time he finally looks at you and see’s the way you’re eating him with your eyes, you’re already turning towards him and reaching out to run your fingers along his collarbones and shoulders.

“What’s with that look?” Gi-hun leans on his palm away from you, trying to hide the way he’s already starting to blush furiously from his cheeks all the way down to his neck. When he doesn’t shy away from your feather light caresses, you can’t help but shrug with a coy smile.

“What look?” You hum.

He swallows hard, his adam's apple bobbing as he does. He won’t meet your eyeline now, having to physically duck down to bring his line of vision back to yours. There’s no way he doesn’t know what you’re up to, now, all bashful and shy like he isn’t already getting hard at the mere thought.

You press your palms flat over skin and nudge him backwards.

“Wait, hold on a second-” Like he isn’t all too willing to fall back on his ass when you apply just the littlest bit of pressure to his chest. Watching every move you make, he shudders out a gasp. “The windows open…”

“Come on.” You croon, pushing and urging him to sprawl his legs out, bent at the knees in front of you. He stares at you red faced and terse, lips pressing into tight lines, his eyes just wide enough to make you shiver in glee. You loved his expressions, just how easy he was to read. Because even though he was beet red and not immediately spreading his legs you could clearly see the want. He could never seem to hide that from you.

“I don’t know,” He glances at the window once again, concerned. “Ye-jun will be home any minute now with his wife and- ah-...”

You cut off his anxious rambling by pressing the flat of your hand firmly in between his legs and you find that yes, you were absolutely correct in your suspicions. From just underneath his sweatpants, his dick is already twitching to life. He lets his head loll to the side, watching you grope him through his pants.

“And?” Stalking up to him like a predator, you pull his knees apart, grant yourself even more access to his beautiful body. And he lets you. He whines when your hand leaves his aching cock feeling abandoned, but it’s worth it to watch the way his belly tightens when you dance your fingers over his abdomen.

His eyes flicker between your eyes and your wandering hands. “They’ll hear us.”

But then he tips his head back and hisses when you find his cock again. His fingers drag over the floor, popped up by his elbows now. You notice he’s trying to not move, to not demand. He’s so hard you’re sure it must hurt with what little attention you’ve given him.

“You don’t want them to know?” Nerves light up under your skin and spur you on. “You don’t want them to know what you get up to?”

He’s tense, shaking his head, trying to not let himself turn into a mess. He tries to fight it. Tries to act like he’s fighting it, but you know better. You know him. You swipe your tongue over your lips, grinning deviously.

“Don’t want them to know you like it?”

Punctuating the end of your sentence, you give his member a squeeze, and goddamn does Gi-hun shudder so deeply, groan so heatedly, that it rumbles from somewhere far and buried in his chest. “Fuck, I-... Fff…”

“Well?” You’re driving him fucking crazy. You can see him falling apart, leaning further back, lips parted. He’s on the spot now, caught up between trying to rut into your hand and conjuring up real sentences and not garbled nonsense.

“N-No, I don’t want them to hear.” He manages, forces it out in one breath.

You fake a pout. “Well that’s no fun for me. Don’t I deserve to hear you? Aren’t I making you feel good?”

He peeks at you through his heavy lidded eyes and the fucking face he has is just too good. All puppy-dog eye’d, panting and blushing a furious crimson. It was perfect. He was perfect. You’ve got him cornered, now. Makes you shiver and squeeze your thighs together. You go in for the kill, bringing yourself close enough to kiss and nip at his lips.

“I wanna hear you, Gi-hun.”

For the first moment or two, he gapes at you, unsure, but then you give him a good squeeze just the way he likes it and suddenly his head is tipped back and he cries out a broken moan. Keen’s so pathetically it almost breaks your coy façade in favor of climbing him right then and there.

“That’s it.” It takes a lot to keep your voice even, but you manage. Your other hand roams his chest, mapping out the lines of him, exploring the valleys and climbs of him. He shivers under your touch, riddled with goosebumps. You squeeze him again, run your thumb over his tip.

“Please, I want to-” He cuts himself off with a sharp grunt, eyes scanning over the window before screwing shut. He’s still concerned with his noise level but his resolve is crumbling into nothing as the seconds tick by. He’s even already started to beg to cum and you had barely even started yet. It pulls your lips into a smile as you watch him, observe the way his chest rises and falls rapidly as he pants. Oh, the power you hold.

“So go ahead, then.” You wrap your hand around the outline of his cock, precum starting to dot spots in the fabric. He writhes, thrusting up into your grip, even more so when you lean over him and start biting kisses into his neck and shoulder. Without restraint, you let him fuck your hand because he’s just been such a good boy for you and he deserves a reward for it. That, and the glaring fact that there isn’t much in this life that brings you more joy than watching him chase his own orgasm. There’s something magic about it, the way he loses himself and throws what little dignity he has out of the window.

In those moments, shame would be nothing but a mere word to him. All haphazardly jerking hips and gasps and whines. So desperate, so needy.

He bucks into your touch with a sense of want so urgent that you can’t help but deliver. You make a loose fist around his length and the man doesn’t waste a second before he’s found a nice rhythm languidly thrusting into your palm. Head tipped back in ecstasy, hands making fists at his sides. So receptive.

So reactive.

Gi-hun likes to act like this isn’t his choice. Like you’re some predatory minx just waiting to get him behind closed doors so you could fuck and touch and tease him as you pleased. That he’s just being dragged along for the ride. Makes him feel like less of a deviant, you’re sure. And in some ways, he’s right. You do lurk and wait for any chance you can get to have him. You can’t help it.

But even so, he knows exactly what to do to get you ticking. Little touches here and there, subtle words that you’d linger on. And then he crumbles under any pressure- which is what you do best. A little bit of pressure here and there. He lets his actions betray his words and his half-assed objections until every sentence loses all meaning.

Gently, you run your thumb over his tip again. He lurches.

“Thats, hah…” Incoherent nothings leave him in little gasping moans. He’s damn near whining as he squirms in his place and tries to maintain his rhythm.

“Good?” Voice just above a whisper, you watch him with hungry eyes. He nods frantically and bumps his hips up in need of just a little more, speeding up, driving himself into your grip. You wonder if he could get off like this, fucking himself in your grasp, seeing stars when you’d squeeze or drag your fingers along the underside before swiping over his sensitive tip. Every muscle in his body constricts and his mewls have become something more wonton- loud groans and hissing cries.

You sit back on your heels and observe the fruits of your labor. And fuck, is it a gorgeous sight.

His legs are splayed wide open for you, body held up by his elbows, his back arching and his eyes half lidded staring unfocused at the ceiling, lost in the sensations of it all. His hips grind up with reckless abandon, aching to come. The whole scene makes your thighs squeeze together again, a reminder of the way you’d been neglecting yourself thus far. Your pussy throbs in time with your heartbeats, your hands shake as they snake down your body and dip below the waistline of your own shorts.

Lips caught between your teeth, you can’t help but touch yourself. You deserve it by this point. You’re so turned on that by the time you finally swipe your fingers along your aching slit, you suck in a sharp breath that catches itself in your throat. Even without touching yourself until this moment, you’re fucking soaked. Gi-hun doesn't even notice it, too caught in quite literally trying to cum in his pants to realize you’re rubbing quick circles into your clit, eager at just observing the sheer state of him.

You want him all over you. Above you, below you. Inside of you.

And as much as you loved to see him unhinged like this, you needed more. When he grits his teeth and tries to speed up, chasing something that’s just out of reach, it excites you so much that you feel fucking giddy.

Because if you were being honest too, this was your favorite part. When he’s so mentally adrift that the only thing that exists to him is cumming. So feverish that when you finally offer your body to him he can’t do anything else except take and take and take. So frenzied and wild and desperate to get himself off like a mutt in heat that he essentially pounces and uses you as he needs. A specific, dirty mutual loss of control that has you cumming hard enough to drop by the time he’s through.

When you pull away from him, he acts like you’ve struck him. With wide eyes he cracks an eye open and peeks at you from over his rapidly heaving chest. The pathetic look he has to him only adds fuel to your fire, urges you to fuck him until neither of you can take it anymore.

“Why…?” He whines without missing a beat, hands balling into fight fists. Makes you giggle.

Always crying we shouldn’t be doing this yet whines like a whore when you stop.

He looks like he could cry, and you realize that maybe he was close after all. But his worried expression quickly vanishes when you climb into his lab and he lets himself fall flat on his back, opting to rest his hands on your hips instead of the floor. Your pussy has soaked through the thin fabric of your shorts and you know he can feel it through his own when he tosses his head back and groans, “Fuck.”

“Come on,” You grind down into his lap and he grunts. “Go ahead, Gi-hun.”

So, he does. Just as you knew he would.

It takes only a few seconds for him to completely give in to you, and to himself. He shifts and angles himself to drag his aching shaft along your core with every buck of his hips, hits your clit just right when you push back down against him. Then, in the blink of an eye, he’s shoving himself up into you so fervently, so intensely that you wonder if clothed penetration is suddenly on the table. There’s no build up in the way he’s fucking you through your pants, just vigorous thrusting that has you bracing yourself with your hands on his chest just to stay upright.

That's it. Exactly what you needed.

Every single thrust makes you lean forward just a little more, curling over him, your heart pounding in your ears. It’s so fucking good- you love when he’s like this, carnal and lewd and unabashed in the way he’s rutting against you like his life depends on it. His grip is so iron, so tight on your hips that you’re sure it’s going to bruise. You hope it does. It’s hard to keep up with him, barely able to support yourself and biting hard on your lip so you could listen to the obscene noises leaving his lips. Delicious, shameless noises.

If there was a heaven, this was surely it. Conjoined and fucked and breathing life into each others lungs. You wished you could stay like this forever. But, it doesn’t take long until you feel that familiar crescendo between your legs, your pussy growing more and more sensitive with every movement. You squirm, you thrash. It feels so fucking good. Before you feel you can properly appreciate it you’re already close and digging your fingers into the skin of his chest til little red marks dot his flesh and his name tumbles from your lips like a prayer on repeat-

Gi-hun. Gi-hun. Gi-hun.

For the first time since he’d first let himself fall back onto his ass, let you touch him and bring him to life, he looks at you. Really looks at you. His eyes are dark and far away, so clouded with lust that you can only dream to wonder what he could be thinking about. If he was even thinking at all. His hips slow for a brief moment but you scramble to grind down, pressing his cock to your needy slit with a whine. You’ll be damned if you’ll lose this now.

“Don’t stop-” You plead.

He doesn’t.

And fuck, does your little demand spur him on. He’s right back to it, letting his eyes squeeze shut once more. He brings himself to a half sit, laying his weight on one elbow while his other arm slings up over your shoulders and drags you down to kiss him by the back of your head. With one particularly powerful thrust and your lips trapped against his, you finally cum.

It’s enrapturing. It’s all consuming. White hot from your face down to your curling toes, your nails digging into his skin. You keen and wail against his lips, hips stuttering to a still as you try to ride out the endlessly crashing waves of your orgasm. You pull away from his kiss to breathe, desperately gulping in air as you lurch with the aftershocks pressed chest to chest with him. His arm falls from the back of your head to your upper back. That’s when you first realize you’re trapped.

You’re caged in his arms, one holding your heat flush against his own, the other pressing you flat and firm to his chest while he fucks against you like a mad man, unhinged, lost in the pleasure of you. Using you. At first you struggle to wrench your waist from his, overstimulated and over sensitive at the lack of reprieve. You thrash and press your forehead to his neck and sob out moaning gasps but he doesn’t allow you to separate, frantic to keep you exactly where you were. Chasing his own release despite your qualms. Your legs try to close around his waist in vain when he jumps his hips to reangle himself, damn near wailing as electricity sparks through your entire body when he nails your clit dead on with every powerful stroke.

“G-hun! I-I’m so-”

God, you can’t even get the words out. He’s got you practically bouncing over his cock and in between shaking like a leaf and struggling to breathe properly you feel your second orgasm start to mount. It’s faster this time, almost painfully abrupt. So sensitive and he’s essentially fucking you through your clothes and it’s all just too much and too good. You almost feel you can’t take it, writhing in his unrelenting grasp.

“Almost- mmn- there-” He manages, voice strained. “Fuck, I’m almost there-”

The second time you cum, you sob his name and soak him through his sweats. You don’t stop crying out, either, mewling and shouting and squirming as overstimulation ripped every noise you tried to hold back out of your throat. You’re sure you can’t take it now, tears gathering at your waterlines, hands desperately grasping for purchase until you realize his thrusts are growing sloppy and nonuniform, and his moans are broken up into desperate keening grunts. And fuck, he’s apologizing to you- babbling sorry and just a little more in your ear as if he’s not in control. As if he isn’t holding you down and fucking you until he’s finally, finally-

He bucks against you once, twice, and then he stills. His breath catches in his chest, his entire body tenses and locks up. You can feel him cum, his cock twitching from underneath you. He ruts up again, and again, three times to ride himself out despite your mewls of objection.

When his breath starts to leave him in low heaves, you’re freed from his animalistic hold. He falls flat on his back with you in tow, panting, seeing stars. You both breathe, exist, in tandem, coming down from your highs. It’s like being made of lead. Barely able to move, you manage to hoist your upper half up, leaning against his chest. His eyes are cracked open, unfocused, unprocessing in his post-sex haze.

So you let yourself fall against him once more, spent. Everything felt so heavy now.

It takes a long moment before either of you collect yourselves enough to speak again. Like usual, he’s the first to break the silence.

“I’m sorry.” Is all he murmurs, breathless.

He’s guilty, but you can’t help it. You grin.

You know how he hates it- to lose control like that. It’s embarrassing, he says it makes him feel like an asshole.

You deserve better than that, he’d pout. I just couldn't help myself.

Little did he know how dearly you adored it, being used up whether you came or not. Not to mention, for the rest of the evening, you got the ultimate princess treatment. The man treated you like fucking glass, insists at your every whim if it means feeling like less of an animal. Probably because he has a natural guilty conscience.

Mostly because you used it to your benefit.

He swallows hard. Guilt is hardwired into his brain. “I’ll make it up to you. Promise.”

Though you knew you could easily say you already did, you instead opt to sighing against his skin. You hum. “Okay.”

Little manipulation never hurt, right? Not after you so kindly let him take you like that. Raw, and unrestrained.

You both lay there like that in the afterglow. Your mind settled into a quiet, fucked out haze, whereas he was likely wondering what he could do for you to make up for it. Laying against him, at the edge of a satisfied sleep, you could die there and die happy. His hand pets down your back, runs through your hair.

Oh, how you love him.

Your attention is only torn from Gi-hun when you notice darkness shroud over the window. It’s quick, dashing from one side of the window to the other as two figures passed by. It seems your neighbors had been coming home soon, afterall. You giggle into his neck.

“Look who’s home.”

His chest constricts and he eyes the window quickly before shooting a worried glance back down to you.

“You think they…?”

“Oh yeah. Heard every bit.” You giggle again, sitting up, foggy with sex and ignoring the way your body complains.

Truthfully, you knew that they likely didn’t, having only just now meandered past your window, caught up in conversation on the way to their apartment. But you can’t help it, you love to tease him. He tosses his arm over his eyes and groans in pure shame, and god, if you hadn’t already been totally drained you could have taken him again right there. Shameful and shy, red from his cheeks to his chest, lips parted with short, puffing breaths. Something about it drove you mad. You couldn’t get enough of him.

Instead of jumping his bones for a second time, you opted instead to roll off of him and lay flat on your back at his side, the floor striking cold in comparison to his warm body. You’d have another chance soon, anyways, soon. Very soon. Probably in the next hour or so when he does something particularly mundane or gives you a specifically pitiful look and for some reason you can’t help but start touching on him again. But till then, you were down for the count.

He glances at the window again and shakes his head. “We're supposed to go out for drinks later, how am I supposed to look him in the eyes?”

You shrug with a yawn. “Don’t know. You’ll have to figure it out.”

Gi-hun wraps his arm around your side and pulls you against his side, flush. After a beat of silence, he says, “Hey, what do you want for dinner? I’ll cook.”

Your heart flutters, and you chuckle. “What about your long day yesterday, and your sore back?”

“Don’t mind all that,” He says, waving it off. “Whatever you want, I’ll make it.”

“In a little bit.” You nuzzle into his side and yawn again, stretching an arm over his chest. He rubs circles into your waist. “Let’s lay here a little longer, yeah?”

When Gi-hun nods, you can feel the way his entire body relaxes all at once. His eyes slip shut, his breathing changes. He kisses the top of your head. Scratch what you said earlier- this must be heaven.

You doze off dreaming of Gi-hun, noodles, and tteokbokki.

#i hope yall like this i put my entire amorussy into it #seong gi hun #seong gi-hun x reader #gi-hun x reader #squid game #i love this man soooo bad im insane in the membrane

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