#all of the words or none of the words that's how it goes

[shield-secrets]

Bad Day - Dr Michael 'Robby' Robinavitch

I guess this counts as coming out of semi-retirement? anyway my heart will always belong to strong, silent, slightly emotionally unavailable men. Enjoy two idiots simping over each other. And please be kind. I'm a little rusty. Pairing: Dr Michael 'Robby Robinavitch x younger!nurse!reader Word Count: ~2.5k Warnings: none. does centre around babies so if that's not your vibe I get it

It had taken almost 2 extra hours but finally all the charts were complete. Every patient was handed over to the incoming paediatric nurses and you were finally cleared to go home. 

There wasn’t anything exciting waiting for you, no social plans to speak of but after the day you’d had that wasn’t such a bad thing. Some shifts left you buzzing with anxiety (or, very rarely, joy) that needed to be directed outwards but this one had left you drained down to your bones. 

They happened less frequently now that you’d left the Pitt but dealing with tiny, innocent little humans in such critical condition was a different kind of hell from the casualties that tumbled into the ED in a never ending stream. 

Robby had warned you about it when you’d announced that you were accepting a new position upstairs in the paediatric wing but you’d mostly chalked it up to his disappointment that one of his favourite day shift nurses was leaving his department. 

The ED had never been your true calling, just a stop along the way to the babies that needed your help the most but that hadn’t made the decision to leave any easier. All the members of the Pitt had become your pseudo-family after 2 years working side by side. Samira had even planned your last birthday party when you’d said that you ‘couldn’t be bothered celebrating’. But in spite of those wonderful relationships there had been one in particular tethering you to the teeming mass of chaos that was The Pitt. 

Michael Robinavitch, MD. Known publicly as the Senior Attending Physician for Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Hospital. Known to his staff as Dr Robby and to you as….something else. 

More than a boss but not quite a friend. Someone who refused to share his personal life had somehow weaselled his way under your skin. Just from a slight change in his posture or the inflection of his tone you’d instantly know how he was feeling, often turning up at his side with a granola bar or a coffee cool enough that he could down it in between patients. 

Over time he started to do the same for you - even though technically as a nurse you didn’t fall under his line of reporting. You’d be sitting at the hub, inputting patient data only to look up and find one of his favourite choc chip peanut butter power bars balanced delicately on the top of the monitor. Neither of you ever discussed it, just quietly kept each other motoring along despite the hurricane threatening to engulf the ED. 

“Alright. Get out of here” Angela, the senior paeds charge nurse, demanded as you handed over your keys to the prescriptions cabinet. “Before something goes wrong and we have to drag you back” 

“More than happy to comply” you laughed, brushing away the strands of hair that had escaped the bun you’d secured at the nape of your neck 10 hours ago. “See you on Monday” 

“Ah to be young” the older woman sighed wistfully, lifting her glasses to rest in her cloud of grey curls. “I hope you’re getting yourself out there. Not wasting your youth doomscrolling on that infernal phone” 

With a gentle shake of your head you reached under the desk to retrieve your bag. If Angela knew that your plans for the next 48 hours involved rotting on the couch and maybe scrolling through Hinge for the forty thousandth time she’d go on an hour long rant about how time was wasted on ‘pretty things like you’ and that you'd regret not getting out there when you was old and grey like her. 

Maybe there was a shred of truth to that but how could you dedicate yourself to finding a boyfriend when you couldn’t get a certain moody doctor out of your head. There had been other guys over the years but no matter how hard you tried they just couldn’t compare to the emotionally unavailable attending that haunted your dreams. 

Pulling your ‘infernal phone’ out of your bag you frowned to see a message from Dana waiting for you. It had only been there for ten minutes but the content had your insides lurching. 

Any chance you’re still here?

Frowning down at the screen you shouldered your bag, typing out a quick response. 

Just about to bail. Everything okay?

As soon as you sent your message a reply popped up underneath. 

Bad day. Could you come down?

She didn’t need to elaborate for you to know exactly who she was talking about and instead of taking the north exit towards the parking structure you were turning left, straight for the lift down to the Pitt. 

Dana barely managed a smile when the silver doors slid open. She just gestured with her pen to the dark windows of the staff room where you could barely make out a familiar silhouette. 

“So. The Pitt was sucking extra hard today?” you asked as you slid the door shut behind you. 

Letting loose a sigh that could rattle bones Robby slowly turned and the pure devastation on his face had your heart squeezing.

“Yeah,” he admitted after a pause. “You could say that” 

Irritation twisted under your pale pink scrubs. 

There was always more to it. Prying feelings out of Robby was like pulling blood from a stone. Even if you spent all night trying he wouldn’t part with anything but the bare minimum - the smallest amount of vulnerability that would get you off his case.  

And as much as you wanted all of it, to take all of the pain and darkness off his overburdened shoulders, you wouldn’t force his hand. He deserved soft and gentle and kind. 

“Any plans after work?” 

“Does sleeping for 16 years count?” he chuckled, rubbing a hand along his salt and pepper chin. 

“You got 16 years off? Wow. Maybe I should have been a doctor” 

He huffed a laugh at the joke but the accompanying smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. Dana had been right. A bad day indeed. “Do you have a minute? I think I know something that might help” 

He let you take him without complaint, leading him back through the buzzing ED and over to the elevators. As if sensing it was futile he didn’t even ask where you were going. Whether that was a sign of his trust or exhaustion you couldn’t tell, but his hand was warm in yours as the two of ventured up to the maternity ward. 

“You have to promise to keep this a secret” you said as you came to a stop outside a set of white double doors. “Technically we’re not meant to do this but I have an…arrangement” 

A dark brow arched in question but you ignored it, pushing the doors open slowly to reveal a sea of newborn babies resting in perspex cradles. Just the sight of the tiny newborns wrapped in pale yellow blankets set your heart fluttering. 

Babies weren’t everyone’s thing, that had become abundantly clear in your 8 months in paeds, but in your perfectly correct opinion there was nothing quite as soothing as holding a warm bundle in your arms after a hard shift. 

“You come in here often?” Robby asked, his voice low as to not disturb the sleeping patients. 

“From time to time” you admitted before grabbing two yellow paper gowns from the dispenser on the wall. “Angela turned me onto it after we lost a set of premature twins. Nothing helps sooth the sting of death like brand new little lives” 

“Or just an excuse to cuddle babies” Robby teased, a twinkle of amusement in his brown eyes. 

“Well it’s a better coping mechanism than standing on a ledge” you shot back. 

“Next time I see Jack up there I’ll suggest it to him” 

A snort of laughter echoed through the silent room. 

“Come on. I’ve got the perfect one” 

“What, you evaluate the babies for cuddle-potential?” Robby asked as the two of you slowly weaved your way through the rows on cradles. 

“No. I ask my spies which ones are the calmest so I know who won’t cry if I pick them up” 

“You have spies?” 

“All the best nurses have spies. You don’t think Dana has her own little network?” 

“Oh I know she does” he agreed. The ED would be engulfed in flames without his favourite charge nurse. Never mind that she was his most trusted source about his favourite topic. You. 

Right at the end of the middle row a tiny little baby waited for your eager hands. With well practiced movements you scooped baby Purcell out of her bed, cradling her delicate body to yours for a minute before turning to the man next to you. He took a half-step back but you were too fast, lifting the package up and into his impressive arms. 

For a split second fear flashed across his sculpted face before melting into an expression of pure contentment. 

A crease formed between the baby’s brows and your heart lurched with fear that she’d wake up and out your very much against hospital policy activities. But thankfully after a small wiggle she settled down into Robby’s arms (and honestly who could blame her). 

You could have picked up your own little bundle of joy, your favourite L&D nurse had texted you a list of 5 babies who would love to be held, but putting even an inch of space between you and your former attending sent an ache through you. So instead you stepped closer, heart skipping as you leant your cheek against the massive expanse of his bicep. Even through the thick fabric of his navy hoodie and the yellow gown his heat pulsed against your skin sending sparks of electricity down your spine. 

How you’d ever managed to get any work done around this man was one of the universe’s best kept secrets. With his sad puppy eyes and streaks of grey colouring the hair at his temples he was utterly hypnotic. The whole point of this trip was a quick hit of dopamine but it was quickly devolving into a completely different monster. How foolish you’d been to think you could go from not seeing him for weeks to standing side by side in a nursery and not get sucked into the vortex that was Robby. 

The two of you could have been standing there for five minutes or five hours it was impossible to tell. A different kind of quiet had settled over the room, wrapped you both in a bubble of calm. 

“I used to think I might have this someday” 

Robby’s confession rumbled through him, vibrating the thick muscle pressing against your cheek. 

“You still could” 

Your voice was barely above a whisper as you tried to speak around the ache in your throat. 

“I’m too old. Too broken. Wouldn’t want anyone wasting their time on me” he muttered, not taking his eyes off the baby snoring softly in his arms. 

You couldn’t help but blink in surprise. 

“Robby. You’re a very intelligent man but that might be the dumbest thing anyone’s ever said” 

He frowned, accidentally jostling baby Purcell in his arms who let out a dainty squeak of protest but he didn't take his eyes off you. You were staring up at him, eyelashes framing your sparkling eyes with a playful smile pulling at the corner of your lips and for a split second he forgot how to breathe. 

“What do you mean?’ 

He was almost afraid to ask. That you might be laughing at the notion of him ever wanting a family when his career consumed every waking moment of his day and often his nights. That there was clearly something wrong with him if he'd hit fifty and not found someone willing to start a family with him.

“Robby. Any woman would be lucky to have you” 

A bolt of lightning shot through his chest. 

If only you knew. 

If only you knew that from your first shift in the ED he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about you. That each time his hand brushed yours during a procedure it took every shred of his self-control to stay upright. That even the scent of your shampoo sent him in to a tail spin and he’d been equal parts ruined and relieved when you’d gone up to the fourth floor, hoping that some distance might free him from this crippling crush. Except that it had only worsened it - leaving him in a constant state of anxiety and relying on Dana for any scrap of information she had about your wellbeing. 

Clearing his throat with a soft cough he turned his eyes back to the little girl and the gentle slope of her button nose, willing himself not to ask the question that was burning a hole in his sternum. But surrounded by fragile human lives with the lavender scent of your shampoo flooding his senses he had no hope. 

“Do you want this someday?” 

To anyone outside it might have sounded like an innocent question but you knew Robby too well. Knew the intricacies of his tone. Something lingered at the edges of it, something deeper that had a jolt of nerves sweeping through your stomach. 

“As many as I can have” you replied, subconsciously leaning further into his arm and his heart lurched against his ribs. 

Of course. You worked in paeds. Naturally you were pro-children but he hadn’t quite put two and two together and the thought of you holding your own child had his stomach tumbling so violently his heart skipped a beat. 

Would he walk into the ED one to have Dana report that you’d met someone? Would he spend every day guiltily wishing that he’d receive a report of your breakup and still sit on the sidelines, too afraid of not being enough for you that it happened again and again until one day the breakup never came and he lost his chance forever? 

How was he meant to live in a world where someone else had the honour of being your man when he was just realising that it was the only job he’d ever want. 

Putting himself first didn't come naturally to Robby. It was his fatal flaw that had been pointed out by his loved ones on more than one occasion but for a single heartbeat he managed to silence the voice screaming in the back of his mind that he didn't deserve happiness long enough to speak the words burning at the tip of his tongue.

“Have dinner with me” 

It was barely more than a whisper but in the silent nursery it was practically a shout. Smiling into the paper gown your eyes slid up to his face to find Robby staring resolutely at the little girl but the scarlet blush growing on his cheeks betrayed his nerves. 

Because even though it was ridiculous - if you said it out loud you’d sound insane - it wasn’t just dinner. 

It was an invitation to a whole different future. 

Michael Robinavitch was a lot of things; brilliant, moody, funny, withdrawn, older. 

And also unequivocally yours. 

And you were his. 

This tension between the two of you wasn’t something awkward or strained. 

It was a question that had waited 2 years to be asked. 

And standing there in the dark nursery with his guarded heart finally cracked open there was only one answer. 

“I thought you’d never ask” 

[demie90s]

Perchance.

A Diana Taurasi fic where the reader is tormenting her using the song Dirty Diana by Michael Jackson maybe at practice or online then later Diana could show the reader how dirty she is. Can you make the reader either a rookie or someone with a tad bit of an age gap to Diana.

Love your work btw😌

Dirty Diana

Diana Taurasi x fem!rookie!reader

MASTERLIST | MORE

Summary:. At every practice, every press moment, every Live—you quote Dirty Diana just loud enough for her to hear.

Word Count: ~ 4.2k

Warnings: SMUT, dom!Diana, rookie!reader teasing and submitting, age gap (reader early 20s, Diana late 30s), possessiveness, mild choking, reader is so down bad it’s funny, Diana ruins her (lovingly).

Genre: Smut, Flirtation, Power Play, Age Gap, Tension, Enemies-to-Lust

I swear I didn’t mean to start a bit.

At first, it was just a little joke. A running thing I had going. I repost edits of my teammates all the time—sometimes it’s funny, sometimes it’s out of pocket, but it’s all love. All gas, no brakes. But Diana? Diana was different. Diana Taurasi made it delusional.

She wasn’t even my vet. Ain’t never assigned herself to me. Never offered to “take me under her wing” or none of that cute mentor stuff. But for some godforsaken reason, I attached myself to her like a demon in a conjuring movie. Wherever she went, I was five steps behind. Holding her Gatorade. Squeezing her knee mid-film. Sitting on the edge of her seat like mine wasn’t two inches away.

It’s not even intentional. I’ll be sitting next to her, locked into practice footage, and my hand’ll just… slide. Light touch on her thigh, maybe tracing something dumb like a spiral or a letter. No awareness. No shame. I’m watching the screen, not even clocking the fact that I’m damn near fondling the inner muscle of one of the coldest to ever do it. And the worst part?

She lets me.

She says nothing. Just glances once, then goes back to whatever she was doing. I smile when she holds eye contact too long—like a slut. But hey. That’s just how I am.

And then I started quoting Dirty Diana. Loud. Dramatic. Out of nowhere. I’d pop into the locker room like:

“She looked me deep in the eyes—”

Everyone: “No—NO. Again?”

Me, already spinning: “She touchin’ me so to start!”

The first time it happened, Diana looked up real slow like a cat clocking prey. Didn’t say nothing. Just watched me act a fool across the gym. I saw her smirk, though. Not a smile. A smirk—just the left side of her mouth. Barely there. But I saw it.

That same night, I posted a slo-mo of her stretching pre-game, MJ crooning in the background. Captioned

“Diana walked up to me / She said, ‘I’m all yours tonight’ 😵‍💫”

Another post: A candid of her mid-argument with a ref.

Caption:

“I have the stuff that you want / I am the thing that you need 😭😭”

I play it off like I do this with everybody—and I do. But not like this. Not this level of obsession. Not this frequency. With her, I be in the comments like I’m locked in a parasocial relationship.

“Y’all don’t get it. I seen her irl. 😭”

“I’m mentally employed under her. That’s my supervisor.”

“She told the ref to back up and I almost passed out.”

I tag her. Because why wouldn’t I? I’m already annoying, might as well go all the way. She never likes. Never comments. But she knows. I know she knows.

’Cause in person? She’s confusing as hell.

Diana will ignore me completely one day—walk straight past, no eye contact, like I’m a ghost in the hallway. Then the next, she’s cracking jokes, tossing her towel at me, stealing my charger like it’s hers. She’s serious 90% of the time. Locked in. Vet mode. But that other 10%..That’s what’s ruining me.

Like today. Practice was hell. Nobody could shoot. Everyone dragging. Coach yelling. We’re running suicides and I’m dead tired, panting, bent over, hands on knees. Diana walks by cool as hell, not even winded, and says:

“Get your ass up, MJ.”

I blink. “Huh?”

“You like singing ‘Dirty Diana’ so damn much, go ahead and run it back.”

She walks off. I’m stunned. No comeback. Just standing there smiling like she proposed.

Later, I sit next to her during cool down and I don’t even realize my hand’s rubbing her arm. Like, soft circles. Not trying to be slick. Just soothing myself, apparently. She don’t stop me. Just shifts a little so I’ve got more room. I swear she lowkey leans into it.

My mouth moves before I can stop it.

“She’s saying, ‘That’s okay… hey baby, do what you want…’”

Diana raises a brow without turning her head.

“…I’ll be your night lovin’ thing, I’ll be the freak you can taunt…”

She laughs. Quietly. Barely. But I catch it.

“…You’re sick,” she says.

“Baby, I’m talented.”

I post another story that night. Just a blurry pic of her walking into the locker room. Caption:

“She trapped me in her heart. Dirty Diana, nah 😩🧎🏽‍♀️”

I tag her. Again. Still nothing. Still addicted.

This not even flirting no more. This is torment. This is soul possession. This is a grown woman who could end my entire career entertaining me. Watching. Letting me linger. Touch. Tease. Lose my mind.

I swear I heard her humming Dirty Diana in the locker room today. But maybe that’s just the demons I summoned talking.

Either way I’m not scared. I’m not stopping.

The win was clean. Easy, even. Everybody played well, nobody got hurt, and for once, Coach wasn’t breathing down our necks. We loaded up the bus all smiles, loud music, popcorn being thrown, and just enough chaos to feel like a team that loves each other. Spirits were high.

I was bored. Bored like the kind of bored that makes you flight risk.

Everybody’s room was standard. Basic keycard, bland lighting, twin beds too stiff for rest. But not hers. She’s a vet. The vet. Meaning she had the Presidential Suite. Double doors, blackout curtains, two showers, a fridge full of things she didn’t buy, and silence.

Most importantly: space.

She didn’t invite me. Of course not. Diana never invites me anywhere. She just tolerates the fact that I show up anyway. But I wasn’t in the mood to sneak tonight. I wanted to be let in. Wanted to watch her roll her eyes and open the door anyway.

So I call her. It rings twice.

“…Why are you calling me?”

I smile. “Why not?”

There’s a pause, then the sound of her breath leaving her nose like she already regrets answering. “…It’s late. And I’m tired.”

“I’m bored.”

“You’re in a hotel. Go find something to do.”

“I can’t.”

“You can’t?”

“I need stimulation.”

“I’m hanging up.”

“No—wait. Can I stay with you?”

Silence. Then: “No.” I grin, stretched out across my own boring-ass bed, phone resting on my cheek.

“You didn’t even let me plead my case.”

“There is no case,” she says flatly.

“I’m restless. My room sucks. And I just….wanna talk.” I pause. “You like talking.”

“I like peace.”

“And yet, I’m on your phone.”

Another long silence. I imagine her laying there in her expensive-ass bed, jaw tight, regretting every choice that led her to being on a roster with me.

“….Come Here.” she snaps. The line goes dead.

No sweet invitation. No “okay, fine, come cuddle.” It’s that low, fed-up tone. That ‘get your ass up here before I change my mind’ kind of tone. I throw on my hoodie like I’m suiting up for war and head to the elevator, smug as hell.

When I knock, she opens the door already mid-eye-roll. Arms crossed. Hair loose. Sports bra and joggers. No makeup. No braids. No effort.

Still fine as fuck. I smirk. “Missed me?” She steps back, says nothing.

The suite smells expensive. Clean linen, subtle cologne, faint lemon. Lights low. One huge king bed, made perfectly. A leather chair sits angled in the corner beside a full-length mirror and a table with half a glass of wine. There’s an untouched fruit tray on the dresser. Everything about it screams veteran luxury.

“I see you used your powers,” I say, stretching as I look around. “They got us in shoeboxes and you got a whole spa suite. Must be nice.”

She closes the door behind me with a sigh. “It’s what I deserve.”

I turn to her slowly. “What do I deserve?”

She doesn’t answer. Doesn’t flinch. Just walks past, brushing my shoulder on the way to the fridge like I’m just there. I follow her movement, eyes trailing her back. Long, lean, loose. She opens the fridge and grabs another mini wine bottle.

“You came all the way up here to annoy me?”

“I came up here because I was bored.”

“You are bored,” she mutters, cracking the seal. “Clearly.”

She doesn’t offer me any. Just walks to the leather chair and sits, crossing her legs like I’m not still standing in the middle of her space, trying to soak her up.

“So what now?” she says, leaning her cheek against her fist. “You gonna sing to me?”

I chuckle. “You know the lyrics better than I do at this point.”

“Unfortunately.”

I start wandering. Not sitting yet. Just trailing fingertips over the cool marble table. The edge of the mirror. My reflection flickers in the low light and I glance over my shoulder. She’s still watching.

I turn fully. “Why you got that chair set up like that? Facing the bed and the mirror?”

She raises a brow. “Why you asking questions you don’t want the answers to?”

I pause. Lips part slightly. The tension creeps in slow like fog.

“Maybe I do want the answer,” I say quietly.

“Maybe you don’t know what you’re asking.” I swallow. The way her voice drops. It’s not loud. It’s not even mean. It’s just direct. L I step closer. Still not cocky. Still lighthearted. Still playing that thin line between teasing and testing.

“You’re not scary, you know.”

“I don’t have to be scary. I just have to be real.”

I smile. “I like real.”

She tilts her head slightly. “No. You like games. Drama. Noise. You like saying my name in the locker room like you understand what it means.”

My eyes narrow, grin lingering.

“Dirty Diana,” I murmur, almost like I’m tasting it.

She finishes her wine in one slow sip. Then uncrosses her legs and leans forward.

“You sure you’re bored�� or just stupid?” I step closer to the bed, finally sitting on the edge. My knees touch the floor. My hands rest between them.

“Maybe both.” She leans back again, slow and deliberate, watching the way I settle into her space.

The mirror reflects the shape of me. Her. The room. I see her shift in the chair, see her eyes trailing down my legs. No words. No move. Just patience. The kind that don’t come with warnings. The kind that lets you cook in your own decision.

I glance toward the bed. “I’m not tryna sleep, by the way.”

“Oh,” she hums, rising from the chair. “I know.”

No smiles. No flirting. No jokes. Just heat. Weight. Silence. And the door clicks shut behind me.

I’ve been messing with Diana for damn near a year.

Not messing messing. Not like that. Emotionally? I’ve been tormenting her with dramatic Michael Jackson lyrics, stalking her around the practice facility, and using every excuse to touch her like I don’t know what boundaries are. And she’s let me.

Teased me back sometimes. But never crossed that line.

I’m walking around her suite. Fingertips on her dresser, nose in her candle collection, peeking into the closet just to annoy her.

She hasn’t said much, just sits there in that leather chair with one leg crossed over the other, watching me like she’s the principal and I’m the reason she drank today.

“You know you like the attention,” I call over my shoulder, tugging on the edge of her bathrobe hanging off a hook. “Why else you upgrade your room like this? Wanted me to see the view?” No answer. I glance over.

She’s staring. Still. I grin, lean against the glass. “You gone say something or just undress me with your—”

“Sit.”

I blink. “Huh?”

Her voice sharpens. “Sit. Down.”

That tone. Oh, I sit. Not on the bed like I expected. But on the low bench at the foot of it. Still warm from my wandering.

Still a little smug. But I’m listening. I’d always listen to her. Even if my mouth stay smart, even if I act like I’m in control—I like following her lead.

She stands slowly. Stalks over. Quiet. Calm.

I’m still in a hoodie and shorts. Comfortable. Loose. But I feel exposed as hell the moment she gets in front of me. Not touching. Just towering. Her gaze pins me down like weight. My stomach flips.

“You wanna see dirty Diana?” she asks, low and slow, like a threat and a promise all in one.

I shift. “Girl don’t—” But it’s too late.

She leans down and her thumb traces my bottom lip—soft, then firm, dragging over the center. My lips part automatically. Breath caught. Knees tight. The air between us gets hot, heavy, wet with anticipation.

“You think you can handle me?” she murmurs. My thighs clench.

Deadass—I could’ve cum from that alone. Her voice. The nerve of her. The control. I stare at her with parted lips and dazed eyes, so clearly gone, and she smirks like she knows.

She does know. I shift again, about to speak, about to say something sarcastic—but she’s already walking back to her chair. Cool. Collected. She sits.

“Take your pants off.”

My heart skips. “What?”

“Take them off. And touch yourself.” I don’t move.

“If we’re doing this,” she says, voice cool and clear, “you’re gonna do it my way.”

Her eyes stay locked on mine. I look down for a second. My hoodie is bunched at my thighs. My fingers tremble when I hook into the waistband. She raises a brow. I breathe deep and slide them down, slow. It feels too slow, but maybe that’s the point.

Now I’m bare, thighs spread, still seated at the foot of her bed, her eyes drinking me in like she’s waited for this. Like she knew I’d fold eventually.

My fingers trail down softly. Just the outer lips at first. Teasing. Slow.

But she doesn’t let me settle into it. Doesn’t give me a chance to get comfortable. Not when I start to look away, flustered, trying to calm the heat flooding me.

“Don’t look away,” she says sharply. “You wanted this, right?”

My eyes shoot back up. It’s hard to keep them there. My legs are shaking, mouth parted, breath catching on every inhale. My fingers dip lower. Find that soft, sensitive spot and circle it slowly. My hips twitch. But it’s the eye contact that breaks me.

It’s her face.

It’s the way she watches me, lips slightly parted, one hand gripping the arm of the chair, that dark gaze fixed like she’s inside me already.

I moan—soft, high, breathy. My head tips back for a second but I catch myself. Glance up. That’s when she stands.

She walks over. No rush. No sound. She crouches in front of me, between my knees. Lifts my chin with one hand. Firm grip. Steady.

“Eyes on me,” she says. “You keep ‘em open.”

Her thumb brushes the corner of my mouth again, and I gasp. My fingers are still working but it’s not even that anymore. It’s her. It’s the power she has over me. The way she can command my body without touching anything but my face.

And when our eyes lock. I fall apart.

My other hand reaches up, clutching her wrist like a lifeline. My back arches. I try to keep breathing but every moan is a sob now. Not loud—just desperate. Messy. Deep from the gut.

“Fuck,” I whisper, voice barely there.

She leans in, nose brushing mine. “That’s it.”

My eyes flutter again but she holds my face tighter. “Look at me.”

And I do. I look. I fall. And I cum. It’s not violent. It’s not fast. It’s sensual. Warm and wet and slow, like being swallowed whole by a wave I never saw coming. I can’t stop it. I don’t want to.

My fingers slow. My thighs twitch. My hand is shaking against her wrist and she finally lets my chin go. But I don’t move.

I just breathe. Chest rising and falling. Hoodie damp with sweat. Face hot. Body trembling.

She watches me the whole time. Silent. Smirking. Like Dirty Diana finally showed her teeth.

I should’ve paid attention.

Not to the way she said “come up,” not even to the cuffs she somehow already had on hand like this was a setup—but to her silence. The way she didn’t smirk when she snapped the second cuff behind my back. The way she didn’t warn me.

Real killers don’t announce themselves.

She just watched me with this calm, focused look, like she wasn’t undressing me—just deciding which part she wanted first.

I was still recovering from the orgasm she dragged out of me with a single command and her voice, wrists locked behind me now, legs open like I forgot how to close them. I’m dazed. Hot. Breathing heavy. I’m stupid enough to think we’re done.

She hasn’t even started.

She drops back between my legs without ceremony—like she lives there, like it’s hers. Her hands smooth over my thighs again, a little slower this time. Gentle, almost. Like she’s checking to see if I’ve caught on yet.

I haven’t. Then she slaps me.

Not hard. Not the way people expect when they hear the word—but sharp enough to sting, timed perfectly with her palm landing flat between my thighs. I jerk. Suck in air.

“Oh, you like that,” she mutters, almost to herself. “Of course you do.”

She does it again, just to prove a point. The wet sound of her palm meeting me is loud in the room, louder than my choked little moan, louder than my pride slipping out the cracks of my mouth.

“You get off on this, huh?” Her voice is lower now. “Acting like a brat all season. Quoting songs. Touchin’ me without permission. You wanted me to break you.”

I try to deny it—try to say something—but my words die in my throat. Because when she spits on it—again—and drags her fingers slow through it, I nearly fall forward.

She clicks her tongue. “Keep those legs open.”

I nod before I can think. “Y-yeah.”

“Yeah?” she repeats, fingers sliding up to circle my clit with a light, taunting pressure. “Yeah what?”

I freeze. Fuck. “…Yes ma’am.”

Her pause is immediate. Her hand stops moving, but her eyes..They burn. She tilts her head just slightly, lips parted, like she’s never been more entertained in her life.

“What’d you just call me?”

I swallow, embarrassed. “I didn’t mean—”

“Yes, you did,” she interrupts. “You meant it.”

She leans in. Mouth brushing over my inner thigh, slow and warm and close enough to feel but not enough to satisfy. Her breath is so hot it makes me twitch.

“You ever been ruined, baby?” she asks softly. “Not fucked. Ruined.” I can’t even answer.

She doesn’t wait.

Her tongue replaces her fingers like they never existed—slick and slow, dragging the wetness she stirred back up with steady pressure that makes my head spin. And just as I start to fall into it, her fingers slide in—deep, slow, patient.

I cry out. Not loud. Not dramatic. Just a quiet, raw sound that slips out of me before I can catch it.

“Oh, that’s cute,” she says against me, lips brushing my clit. “I haven’t even done anything.”

Her fingers move in this rhythm that feels learned. Not fast. Not brutal. But heavy. Intentional. Like she’s been waiting a whole year to give me exactly what I need—and make me beg for what I can’t take.

She sucks my clit again, a little harder this time, and her fingers curl just right. My back arches. My knees try to close, and she slaps the side of my thigh again—just a tap.

“Don’t you dare,” she warns. I whimper.

“What’s the matter?” she murmurs, fingers dragging out slow just to push back in deeper. “Cat got your tongue? Where’s all that mouth now?”

“I—I can’t—”

She chuckles. “Oh, you will. I want you sayin’ everything. Loud.”

She slows again. Just enough to make me ache. Her mouth barely there. Her fingers still knuckle-deep.

“Say what you called me again,” she says, tongue flicking lightly. “I dare you.”

I hesitate. I’m shaking. Panting. I look down at her and instantly regret it—she looks too good like this. Jaw locked. Cheeks flushed. In full control. Like she owns me.

“…Yes ma’am,” I breathe again. Soft. Fragile. And she grins.

“Good girl.” It’s over. No, it’s on.

She drags her mouth over me again with purpose, not mercy. Fingers fucking up into me with new pace, more depth. Her tongue tight and consistent, sucking and circling until I’m losing track of myself. Of time. Of how I ended up here.

She’s not saying anything now. Doesn’t need to. She just works me. Turns me inside out. I hold onto the only thing I can—her wrist.

Because I’m dripping. Legs trembling. Head back, teeth clenched. Every inch of me feels open and alive and owned.

This was never a game to her. Not really.

It looked like one because I was the one playing loud—joking in the locker room, quoting lyrics like I wrote ’em, touching her arms, her thighs, posting her on my story like she was just another crush.

She was silent. Measured. Plotting.

I fell for it. Cocky, flirty, too dazed off a soft orgasm to realize the cuffs weren’t a reaction—they were premeditated. She came prepared. Not just with the chain around my wrists or the quiet, slow-deep fingers making me forget how to breathe. No.

She had everything. Because Coach tells her things first.

Like hotel plans. Room arrangements. Which floor the rookies are on. And how close our doors are.

She didn’t just bring wine and sweats and a charger—she brought a whole strap. Packed it like a toothbrush. Because she knew.

Knew I’d find my way to her. Knew I’d test her limits. Knew eventually I’d sit right where she wanted, legs open, wrists bound, breath shaky, wet enough to slide into without warning.

So when she stands again, eyes slow-dragging over me like I’m a mess she enjoys cleaning up, I know. This isn’t heat-of-the-moment. This was step six in a playbook I never got to read.

She doesn’t say anything at first. Just walks to her travel bag like she’s grabbing a hoodie. Unzips it casual. Quiet. Then I see it.

Black harness. Clean, sleek, no-nonsense. She doesn’t turn to look at me when she straps it on. Just adjusts it like she’s done it a thousand times and always knew this one would be for me.

I shift. Legs still open. Wrists aching a little behind my back, but I’m not tapping out. Not yet. She comes back slow, voice cool.

“You done?”

I blink, breath still shaky. “What?”

She tilts her head. “All that mouth you got. You done now?”

I nod before I realize I’m nodding.

She climbs onto the bed like a storm. Stalks over me, pushing me flat, flipping me quick so my cuffed wrists are pressed into the sheets and her hand is fisting the back of my hoodie to keep me still.

“You wanna be fucked like a problem?” she says low, lips by my ear. “Then don’t run.”

I moan on instinct. She hasn’t even touched me again yet.

“This what you wanted, huh? Acting up all season. Thinking I wasn’t watching you.” I whimper, thighs spread.

“No warm-up,” she murmurs, pushing her hips forward against me with one slow grind. “You get what I give you, baby.”

The first thrust makes me gasp. Loud. My mouth opens but nothing comes out except breath. I wasn’t ready. She knew that. That’s why she did it.

“Take it,” she says. I do. Because I have no choice.

Her hand’s on my neck now, pinning me to the bed while her hips roll with steady, unrelenting force. She’s not trying to be sweet. Not trying to make it pretty. This is work. This is ownership.

I try to catch my breath, try to say something—anything—but her mouth is already there. She kisses me hard, sloppy, open-mouthed. Tongue in my throat. Swallowing the sounds before they ever make it out.

“You don’t need to say anything,” she breathes, biting my bottom lip. “Ain’t nothing you got to say that matters right now.”

I moan against her mouth. “D-Diana—fuck—”

She thrusts harder. Deeper. One of her hands slides down, finding my clit like it lives there. Rubbing it in rough circles while she fucks into me like it’s personal.

“Don’t look away now,” she hisses when my head starts to turn.

I can’t help it. My eyes roll. My hips push back. I’m whining now—soft, helpless.

“Yeah,” she growls. “Cry. Pass out. Scream if you want. I’ll stop if you tap…but you not gone do that.” She’s right.

My body’s shaking. My legs won’t stay still. She bites my shoulder as she keeps going, never slowing, like this was her job and I’m just her project.

I breathe her name again—more like a prayer than a plea. I feel her grin against my neck.

“Don’t ever play with my name again,” she whispers.

Then slaps my ass, hips hitting harder.

I almost do. Almost tap. But I don’t. I just take it. Exactly like she knew I would.

@letsnowtalk @draculara-vonvamp @kcannon-1436-blog @let-zizi-yap @perksofbeingatrex @soapyonaropey @julieluvspb @non3ofurbusiness @kcannon-1436-blog @kaliblazin @liloandstitchstan @footy-lover264 @yorubagirlsworld @daffodil-darlings @h4untedghOul @followthesvn @hibiscusblu @sevikasleftbicep @swiftie4evr @babyphatbrat @sivensblog @beeop223 @huntedghOul @tpwkrosalinda @lightsgore @em-nems @salemsuccss @villain-ryuk @ihrtsarahstrOng @liyahh037 @sillystarv @somedetailsinthefabric @essence-134340 @mochelisgf @soph1asticated @heheievidbri @unvswrld @breezybellab @planet-ghoulborne @art-ofmusic @toorealrai

[rafesteddy]

what would be milf readers reaction to having a pregnancy scare for a fifth baby and how would she tell rafe

Omg 👀🫣🫣🫣 good question 💕 thank you for your ask hun

500 words c/w none

You’re lying on the hospital bed, IV drip in your arm, gown loose around your shoulders, head lolling slightly against the pillow. It was just a stomach bug—or at least that’s what you told yourself when the nausea started and you couldn’t keep anything down.

Wheezie’s at home with the kids. The twins had been passing some bug back and forth all week—most likely from daycare or one of the kids in your class—and now apparently, it’s your turn.

Rafe’s sitting beside you, tense as ever: legs spread, elbows braced on his thighs, his hand wrapped around yours. Some random episode of The Office is playing on the tiny wall-mounted TV, but neither of you is really watching. He’s checking the monitor every few seconds, watching your IV drip like he knows what any of it means. When the doctor steps in, both your heads turn.

“Mrs. Cameron,” he starts, glancing at the chart, “urinalysis looked fine, but there were some elevated hCG levels. We’re waiting on the blood test to confirm.”

Rafe stills. His whole body goes stiff. “…hCG?” he repeats slowly like it means more to him than three letters.

The doctor glances between the two of you. “Could be a few things… Dehydration can throw off numbers, possibly something else but I don’t want to get ahead of ourselves. We’ll know more when the bloodwork comes back.”

The second the curtain swishes closed behind him, Rafe’s already fumbling for his phone, muttering something about the shitty hospital WiFi. His thumbs are flying as you stare at the ceiling silently because you know what “possibly something else” means and you don’t know if that’s something you can handle.

Rafe’s whole body locks up again, color draining from his face. He looks up at you, down at the phone then up again.

hCG hormone = pregnancy

Your lashes flutter and your chest tightens, Rafe’s study of your vital signs not for not as he sees your pulse climb.

“Hey. Hey, baby. Look at me,” he murmurs, cupping your cheek in his hand. “You’re alright—We’re fine, okay? Always have been.”

You’re too sleepy to cry, too tired to panic. He kisses your hand and holds it tighter and just when your vision starts to fog over with tears, the nurse sweeps the curtain back, looking slightly frazzled.

“Oh, Mrs. Cameron. I apologize. That urinalysis wasn’t yours. Your bloodwork just came in. No hCG elevation. It’s a viral infection, most likely. IV fluids are helping, and we’ll get you home soon.”

You and Rafe just sit there, silent for a second, blinking at her blankly.

“Thank you,” Rafe says, voice hoarse and shaking with adrenaline as she disappears with a smile and a clipboard as you close your eyes, relief washing over you like a wave. Rafe leans in, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

His dress shoes shuffle across the linoleum and you crack one eye open. “Where are you going?”

He’s halfway to the door already, eyes shut, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose as he blows out a breath. “Scheduling that vasectomy, sweetheart.”

[amalia-eveline-verstappen]

Meet Amalia Eveline Verstappen

She’s twenty. An Aquarius. The youngest of three. Her name is Amalia Eveline Verstappen— though she goes by Malia to the world and Lia to the ones who knew her before the flash of cameras or the roar of engines. She speaks Dutch, French, German, and English with elegant ease, switching between them mid-conversation without skipping a beat, often just to watch the boys around her melt.

She’s studying fashion and models part-time. The camera loves her, but she doesn’t chase the spotlight. Instead, it finds her, constantly. People try to explain her presence in the paddock with words like “It girl” or “rising star,” but that’s not what she is. She’s not a trend. She’s a force of nature dressed in silk and soft smirks, the kind of girl who enters a room and changes the air without speaking a word.

Her older brother, who keeps his heart under lock and key, only ever opens it fully when she’s around. He’s the one with the fame, the trophies, the headlines. But she’s the one who makes him human. With her, he laughs in ways fans never get to see. He softens. There are clips of her slipping him snacks before a race, of him whispering jokes that make her double over laughing. He’s colder when she’s not around, sharper. Everyone notices.

The fans adore her. She’s fiercely private, but every rare appearance—whether in the paddock, beside the garage, or curled up in a hospitality chair with sunglasses and a sketchpad—turns heads. They call her angelic, enigmatic, gorgeous, dangerous. They’re not wrong. But none of them really know her.

Her relationship with her father is... complicated. He tries to win her over with designer bags, VIP weekends, even a horse once. But it’s too late. Her boundaries are crystal clear. She smiles, says “thank you,” and sends everything back. She refuses to be bought. Only her mother, Sophie, and her siblings know how much strength that takes. How much damage came before the distance.

Her mother is everything. Her best friend, her mirror, her anchor. Sophie calls every night, texts her affirmations, sends her voice notes when she knows Amalia is about to walk a red carpet or sit front row at a show. And when Malia’s too tired to talk, she just sends a photo of herself curled in a hotel bed with Sophie’s sweatshirt wrapped around her like armor.

Then there’s Victoria—fierce, protective, chaotic, loving. Her sister is her ride-or-die. They grew up sneaking out together, covering for each other, finishing each other's sentences. Victoria will burn the world if anyone hurts Malia. Once, when a boy broke her heart, Victoria looked him dead in the eye and said, “I hope you step on a Lego barefoot every morning until you realize what you lost.” She wasn’t joking.

The paddock has always felt like a second home and a labyrinth all at once. Malia walks its edges with the ease of someone who grew up around it but never truly belonged to it. She isn’t a driver. She doesn’t want to be. But every team knows her. Every driver pays attention. And every single one of them has, at one point or another, fallen just a little bit in love with her.

Carlos is the flirty one, the teacher. In Barcelona, she sits beside him, struggling through her Spanish homework. He leans over, mouth close to her ear, correcting her pronunciation with a grin. She blushes, mutters a curse in perfect French. He winks. She flicks a grape at his forehead. He swears he’s never been happier.

Lando is the hopeless romantic, the lovestruck puppy. In Monaco, he brings her coffee just the way she likes it—almond milk, three sugars, extra vanilla. He trips over a cable trying to hand it to her. She laughs, takes a sip, calls him her favorite barista. He almost dies on the spot. Later that day, he posts a blurry picture of her laughing to his private story, captioned, “Who gave her permission?”

Oscar is the quiet one, steady as stone. After a particularly rough media day, she’s drained, sitting alone with her sunglasses still on. Without a word, Oscar slips off his jacket and lays it over her shoulders. She whispers “thank you” and leans just slightly into his arm. He doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t need to.

Lewis is temptation incarnate. Every time he walks past her, he drops a compliment like a grenade. “Looking dangerous today, Amalia,” he murmurs one morning, lips barely moving. She rolls her eyes. “Your flirting is exhausting.” He grins. “You’re still smiling though.” She is. She always is.

Charles is the soft safety net, the one who doesn’t hide how much he adores her. When she’s nervous before a panel, he wraps her in a hug that lasts just a beat too long, whispers, “You’ve got this, Lia,” and kisses both cheeks with that slow, European affection. She relaxes. He knows exactly how to do that.

George is the thrill she shouldn’t want. Max glares whenever George so much as breathes in her direction, which only encourages her to smile wider and lean closer. In Austin, they’re caught talking under a string of fairy lights, heads tilted together like there’s no one else in the world. Nothing ever happens. But the electricity is undeniable.

Franco is the walking romance novel. “Princesa,” he calls her in the paddock, every time. “Mi vida.” He bows, kisses her hand. Sends her a single red rose before a race. She laughs and says he’s ridiculous. But she keeps the rose.

Then there’s Daniel. Not racing full-time, but always lurking with a joke, a grin, a devilish sparkle in his eye. “Trouble,” he calls her. Once, he stole her sunglasses and declared, “If I can’t date you, I’ll become you.” She laughed so hard she spilled her water. Max threw a towel at him.

Even Kelly, who Malia used to keep at a frosty distance, has started to thaw in her presence. The journey wasn’t easy—Amalia is loyal to a fault, and her trust must be earned. But over time, the two women have reached a silent understanding. Kelly still calls her Amalia. Lia is a name she hasn't earned.

At her core, Malia is soft. Quiet when she’s overwhelmed. Anxious when she’s alone too long. She keeps journals filled with sketches and poetry. Her playlists are full of sad French songs. Her favorite color changes weekly. She hates confrontation but will go absolutely feral if someone disrespects someone she loves.

She is the main character without trying to be. The center of gravity around whom the chaos spins. Drivers fight for her attention. Teams adjust their schedules when she’s in town. Fans follow every glimpse of her like she’s a celebrity. But behind all the beauty and mystique is a girl who just wants to be held the way her mother used to, to be loved without expectations, to be seen for who she is beneath the flawless image.

She has no idea just how unforgettable she is.

But the paddock does.

💙🩷💙🩷💙🩷💙🩷💙🩷💙🩷💙🩷💙🩷💙🩷

Authors Note:

Hello everyone! Welcome to my blog and my story! I hope you enjoy it. I'll write stories all based on this information. If you have any requests or questions, you can always message me!

[queersyourgender]

Robby is literally in love with Jack and reader’s relationship and loves hanging out with them, but doesn't realise they actually want Robbyto join in and try to woo him.

Dream Vacation — Michael “Robby” Robinavitch x GN!Reader x Jack Abbot

Notes: None here, just Robby getting rizzed up by Jack and Reader, like he deserves!!

———

“Hey Robby, what's your dream vacation?” You ask him casually as you hop onto the couch beside him, wriggling yourself underneath his arm as you're wont to do. Jack watches you fondly, mouthing a teasing very subtle in your direction, which you don't grace with a response as you turn to look up at Robby instead.

He's blushing, bless his heart, and you don't know if it's from the proximity or the affection, but you know it's absolutely adorable all the same. Jack grabs the fancy wine, the one you two keep tucked in the back of your cabinet for special occasions, and starts pouring glasses for all three of you while Robby computes.

The older man looks down at you with a smile, entirely pretending that his face isn't red. “Honestly? I've always wanted to go to Hawaii,” he says, shrugging his shoulders slightly and gently tapping your arm in a way that tells you doesn't even realize he's doing it. 

You gasp dramatically, shooting up like a bullet and looking at him with wide, incredulous eyes. “Am I hearing this right? Are you saying you've never been to Hawaii?” You demand, only lightly playing it up for effect, because you're genuinely shocked by this information. When the older man nods at you, you turn to your partner with a look.

“And you just let this stand?” You ask Jack, exaggerated horror lacing your voice, and he laughs as he hands you and Robby your respective wine glasses then takes a seat on the opposite side of him, squishing him between you two. You bury yourself back where you were and start aggressively tapping away at your, pulling up hotel-booking websites right then and there. “I can't believe you've never been when you know Jack and I have gone, like, a gazillion times!”

“It was twice,” Jack corrects you from the other end of the couch, leaning into Robby's side and not-so-subtly pushing the sides of their thighs together. Now it's your turn to mouth his words back at him, and all he does is wink at you in return. “But honestly, babe, you're right. How come you've never been, Robby?”

Robby snorts at the words, looking between the two of you in amusement. “Why would I go?” He asks easily, like it was just that simple. “What's the point in paying all that money if I'm just going to spend my time off sleeping anyway? I don't have anyone to go with.”

Both you and Jack look at each other above his head, your eyes connecting with lightning speed as you both notice the opportunity at the same time. Immediately, you seize it. “Well…” You start coyly, leaning further into his side and looking up at him through your lashes. “You could always come with us.”

You see his eyes widen significantly, and you see the way his pupils physically blow, as if the image of the three of you being on a romantic getaway is flashing before his eyes. He swallows and laughs nervously, cocking a brow at you like he's unsure he even heard you correctly.

“Oh yes, rather than go on vacation alone, I'll just go on vacation as a third wheel,” he jokes, and you can't help the way your face turns into one of pure exasperation. You turn to Jack like he's an invisible camera from The Office, and your man, the traitor, immediately throws his head back and starts laughing.

Robby glances between the two of you, looking more confused than he's ever been yet still smiling just because of the mere fact that Jack is laughing. It fills your chest with so much warmth that that's all it takes to make him happy, you two's happiness. If only he wasn't oblivious to the fact that it goes both ways.

“Oh, brother, you're hopeless,” Jack says, after finally being done laughing at your miserable expression. He puts his wine glass down on the table before the three of you and turns his attention to Robby. Very deliberately, he settles a hand on his knee, just medially enough to be practically between his legs, and looks him dead in the eyes as he corrects him. “Trust me, that is not what we meant.”

Robby's jaw drops in disbelief, his face turning an alarming shade of red as he looks down at Jack's hand then back up at his best friend's intense gaze, and you immediately leap forward and smack Jack on the shoulder. “Abort! Abort! That's way too forward!” You exclaim. “You're gonna scare him off!”

“Scare me off?” Robby repeats, once he finds his voice, glancing between the two of you like he's never seen either of you in his life before this moment. “What do you mean, scare me off? What's going on here?”

Jack looks gives you a deadpan look, as if to say see? And you can't help but laugh slightly. “What's going on is that we've been trying to woo you for ages,” you finally say, laying your cards out on the table for all to see as you look at Robby fondly. “We know you like us, and we like you, too.”

Robby's face radiates heat as he looks between the two of you. You place a hand on his chest, and grin hard when you find his heart racing underneath your palm. Jack hums and leans ever closer, placing his hand above your own. “What do you say, Robby?” He murmurs softly. “Wanna go on that dream vacation with us?”

“Yes,” Robby says quickly, so quickly he seems to startle himself with the speed he answered with. You squeal your happiness and wrap your arms around his shoulders, while Jack laughs brightly and pulls both of you close.

[mona-risms]

Yo!!!!! Your kpdm fix have just kept me alive the last few days!!!!! I love how you write for all the girls rather than just rumi (as much as I love her) I just LOVE Zoey and Mira as well?!!!!!!!

I was wondering could you do one for Zoey?

Like can we just agree that Zoey definitely has ADHD? So like sometimes I'd say she gets SUPER hyper focused on stuff like song writing or gets these random bursts of energy? So reader would definitely always be in tune with stuff like this and always make sure that after a certain point you would force Zoey to take a break and make sure she eats when she goes down a rabbit hole of just writing constantly. And you always love to hear her go on her little rants which is what Zoey (and the girls) love about you and how you're so patient with her (you definitely just randomly buy either Lego or different fidget toys for her cause you know how much she loves them and they help her kinda calm down?)

NSFW

Can we also agree that you ALWAYS know exactly what Zoey needs especially in the bedroom. Like especially when she gets these random bursts of energy? It's like she has so much energy and she's practically vibrating cause she doesn't know what to do with it. While you calm gesture from the couch waving her over and simply patting your lap. She immediately jumps onto your lap and you start with small touches that almost distract her and get her grounded. You scatter kisses around her face making her giggle until you eventually kiss her properly. It starts light and cute but soon turns deeper and more passionate. You start helping to grind her hips against yours and she whimpers feeling you against her and start to kiss her neck. You tell her that you know she is really hyper right now and doesn't know what to do with all her energy so you tell her she can ride you and she immediately goes for it....like not only is she getting to burn off all this energy but she ALSO gets to do it with you and make you feel good? SIGN HER UP!!!! She loves making you feel good and absolutely DIES when you start to whisper praise in her ear. While I do totally agree with you that she usually bottoms she just absolutely LOVES making you feel good and knowing it was her that made you feel good.

Especially when you reward her afterwards and flip her over and take her either soft or rough depending on what she needs.....

God I could go on and on about Zoey......I just need more of Zoey!!!!!!!

◆ MAIN COURSE: sub!Zoey x dom!gn!Reader

◆ TYPE: NSFW, romantic

◆ ALLERGEN WARNINGS: None

◆ NOTES: I'M GLAD I MANAGED TO FEED THE MASSES 🫡🫡 I HOPE YOU ENJOY THE ZOEY FIX SILLY!! And honestly I get her. I really really do 😭 if my Profiler results and my work ethic are any indication 😭

Zoey having ADHD feels like the most obvious thing ever and there is no one in this world that could convince me otherwise, or at MOST neurodivergent. Her own character struggles is not only just being pulled in two places at once, but she always felt like she was either too much or too little, and the thoughts and 'colours' in her head contribute to that feeling. Literally only when she joined HUNTR/X did she feel like her ideas (and herself, by extension) weren't too much or too little or too weird, she felt like she was accepted and cherished as just Zoey :(

This makes her such a fucking WEAPON in the industry though bc she can go on and hyperfocus on writing for god knows how long when that energy and motivation hits her, but you'd absolutely right in the fact that she does need to be dragged away from work just to take a bit of time to rest, replenish and by god take care of her. She'd most definitely go on a tangent about how she's PERFECTLY FINE to carry on but never ever take her word on it bc this girl's working herself ragged to feel like she's useful to the other members oh my god

Said members would approve you taking her away from work a bit for some self-care with your gf instead of letting herself burn out and neglect her own needs. If anyone's gonna have a 99% chance at getting their maknae to take a break, it'd be you. And even then, they adore you asw anyway!!! Mira and Rumi both want Zoey to be the happiest she can be, and when you make her smile so brightly as you do, them why wouldn't they like you? Atp you've been dubbed as the honourary fourth member, and they even make you your own norigae charm together thanks to Zoey's suggestion!!!

She'd feel so bad about it but at the same time she considers herself the luckiest person in the whole entire UNIVERSE (and she fully means it with her whole heart) bc you're literally looking out for her as much as possible. When she gets too fixated on smth, you tend to the needs she accidentally ignores. When she starts going on a whole ramble about something, you listen - REALLY listen - instead of passively listening which she won't even blame you for but you actually listen to her and catalogue it into your mind. When she starts to get really restless, you give her a fidget toy without even needing to ask or say anything

You and your girlfriend were both sat on the floor, assembling the the latest lego set the two of you had picked up a few hours prior in your date. You were reading the manual as Zoey put the pieces together before she spoke up amongst the click-clacking quiet of her bedroom, "Can I ask you something?"

"Hm? Go ahead."

Compared to the other times she launches a question at her with undisguised curiosity and eagerness, this time she seemed.. hesitant to ask. "Well..." She cleared her throat as she pointedly kept her focus on the pieces she was assembling, "You don't-- you don't have to answer it, obviously, you can just pass go on this like Monopoly, actually—I'd probably wanna pass if I were you 'cuz--"

"Zo," you called out gently, touching her knee and massaging it reassuringly, "it's okay, you can ask."

She chewed on the bottom of her lip as her fingers tapped on the tiny pieces of plastic before she let out a breath, "..Okay. Do you.. ever get tired of me?"

That got you to still your movements. "What do you mean?"

"I mean you're always so... You always go out of your way for me, and it's just.. I dunno." She shrugged, her bangs covering her face like a curtain as she hunched her posture, "Don't you think I get.. too much or too annoying? What if you get sick of me and you never tell me? What if-- mmf..! Mmm..."

Her spiral is cut off early when you lift her chin and kiss her lips, channelling all that nervous energy into something you both know she'd much prefer doing. Her hands drop the little brick structure she was fiddling with to cling onto your top as she kissed you back enthusiastically.

When you eventually draw back, she chases your lips in a daze before you give her another peck with an affectionate giggle. "You really think I'd ever get tired of you?"

"Wha..? Oh. ..Yeah. Which is fine, if you are! Like, I'd totally get if--"

"Zoey. I'm not."

"..Really?"

"Mhm." Your moved your hands to cover Zoey's hands still clenched onto the fabric of your top, "Watching over you, taking care of you, listening to you... Everything you think is 'bothering' me is so far from it. Don't you think that I fell in love with all of that and more?"

"But.. why?"

"Because I fell in love with you, silly." You boop her nose playfully, "And to me, that means falling in love with everything that makes you who you are first. I like taking care of you, I like listening to you, I like watching over you whenever you get so focused on things like songwriting.. and assembling lego in a single day."

A blush slowly coated Zoey's face when she finally looks at you properly, and the smile you love stretches her lips, "You're such a flatterer—you're gonna make me overheat if you keep this up!"

"I have alternate ways to do that," and you accompany the innuendo with a wink.

She swats you with a laugh, "Cheeky! ..but thank you."

"Of course." You lean in close to put your forehead on hers, the both of you simply savouring each other's presence, "And if those thoughts ever come back again, just tell me, yeah? I'll kiss it all away and tell you about every single thing I love about you."

"Pft. Okay. I'd like that."

As for NSFW? ABSOLUTELY WE CAN AGREE!!!! I actually quite think she'd be a switch when it comes to positions—she doesn't give a flying FUCK as long as she gets to burn off all that buzz, she gets to feel good, she gets to be good FOR you AND she makes YOU feel good too!!!! Literal win win on all sides in her book

She'd most likely have a somewhat high drive bc of this :3c. When you get her turned on, she's positively RARING to go, all you need to do is to tell her what to do and she'll do it. It helps a Lot that you're about to tell what she needs in the moment as well—whether it's to have her all pliant for you to worship your body or it's for her to be able to get rid of all that energy in a way that's safe and mutually loving for the both of you, she loveloveLOVES being able to go with the flow with you. It's her favourite thing ever!!!!!!

I swear I've said so much about praise with Zoey anyway already from my other entries I think but she would live laugh love it so much. It has her SO weak and she'll start to chase her orgasm even more eagerly while following your every instruction. There's just something about after overthinking so long about whether she's doing too much and too little and you just say that your good girl's doing perfectly that's got a switch flipping inside her

"Look at you, getting my thigh so wet with your pussy." Your voice came in a sultry purr as you spoke into your girlfriend's ear, all while your hands gripped onto her hips to assist her in grinding on you, "How are you feeling right now?"

Zoey arched her body into you as her fingers dug into your shoulder like a vice while she continued to buck herself against your thigh. "I--" her voice broke off as another high-pitched whine left her, "hn..! Feels.. feels sssso g-- good..."

"Yeah? Does it?" And you nip her ear before taunting her, "Then why don't you cum?"

"No!" The desperation in her tone was evident, "I c-can't-- not.. not yet.. notyetnotyetnot.. ngh-- not until you want me to cum..! Wanna be good, n-- ohmygod--"

The satisfied, velvet hum that leaves you sends a shiver down your eager lover's spine, "You're such a good girl, pushing yourself to be patient until I tell you what to do next."

"Mmhm! Wanna be-- wanna be good for you.. 'cuz you know me b-best--"

"Do I?"

She nodded frantically, her hair falling loose from her buns by the minute from her enthusiasm.

"I guess I do. Because I know just what any patient and obedient girl deserves."

When you control her hips into slowing down to a stop, her eyes widened as frantic energy started to bubble up, "What? What? What is it?"

When you lean back into the bed with a lick of your lips, her confusion quickly melts into a mix of arousal and glee.

"Up," you say, "on my face. I want to taste you when you cum."

And she doesn't hesitate to climb up on top of you before grinding down. She doesn't take long before she cums with shaking limbs, either.

And she'll always reciprocate in the end as a thank you for helping her every time :3c

[leislibrary]

[skz] how they accidentally reveal your relationship

pairing: hyung line x reader genre: fluff, angst (if you squint) wc: 2.2k, between 400 - 700 each

Chan - on a live stream

Chan's eyelids droop as he reads more comments on his live stream. He could not count the amount of hours that passed since he last slept. Yesterday? Two days ago? He lost track. Still, he sits in front of the blinking red light, recording live content for STAY before he finally goes to sleep. 

“Someone said ‘nice bracelet’,” he reads aloud from his phone screen - having to pause to stifle a yawn. The comment makes him grin, remembering how you recently gifted it to him when he was trying to spoil you. “Thank you, you know, Y/N got it for me on our last trip.” 

His blood freezes the second the words leave his lips. He fucked up. 

Your relationship is not public. Well, rather, it was not public. You both wish to keep that part of your lives private, seeing as so much is already exposed to his fanbase. 

Any triage he can do falls short on his lips as he reads comments pouring in, asking who Y/N is, demanding an explanation, and already speculating that Chan has a partner. Chan’s heartbeat quickens and his mind races. He tries to think of something that would make him still appear cool, and like he wasn’t currently freaking out over saying your name so intimately for everyone to hear. If he spoke, anything he said would just be over-analyzed and posted everywhere. So, he did quite possibly the worst thing he could do. 

He ends the live without saying another word. 

His shaking hands open his phone app to call you, but you beat him to it. Your name appears on his screen. You must have been watching. You must have also seen the comments afterwards. He takes a deep breath and presses Accept. 

You’re silent on the other end. “Do you think anyone heard?” He tries to lighten the mood, believing you’re upset with him for exposing your relationship so carelessly. 

Instead, you surprise him. “Are you okay?” Your voice is full of concern. “You looked like you aged about 20 years in four seconds. I don’t think I’ve ever seen your eyes that wide before.” 

“You’re not mad? I mean everyone knows now, it’s just a matter of time before they find out it’s you, I pretty much just ruined whatever privacy we ha-”

“Hey,” you cut him off, “none of that. No talking badly about yourself. Yes, I’m sure we’ll have to address it soon, but there’s nothing we can do to change what’s already happened. Whatever happens from now on, we will still have each other. Honestly, I’m kind of glad the secret’s out. We can go on real dates now, instead of practically wearing costumes just to grab coffee.” 

Chan knows he is incredibly lucky to have you. One of many reasons he loves you is for your ability to talk him down when he overthinks. He eventually falls asleep on the phone with you, listening to you reassure him that you guys will figure out whatever tomorrow brings. 

Minho - on stage

Management expressed concerns about Stray Kids collaborating with you on your newest single. The higher-ups claimed that with your smaller fan base, the release might not be worth the time taken away from the group working on their own comeback. Of course, they were actually concerned about fans uncovering yours and Minho’s relationship, but they could not officially say that seeing as you have not officially told them anything. It’s an open secret within JYPE, but you two still deny it any time the subject comes up. 

The single reached the highest number of pre-orders you’d ever had. Downloads of all your songs, not just the collaboration, skyrocketed on release day. It seemed like your boyfriend’s group almost did more for your career than JYPE, your own label. 

Currently, the nine of you are at your third promotion event together. This is an informal performance/Q&A session (mainly for Stray Kids, let’s be honest) held near the label’s building, but your heart still swells at seeing everyone who came out to support the song. 

You stand in front of a small sea of audience members, taking a moment to admire their reactions to the performance. Behind you, Felix kicks off the Q&A portion of the event, calling on a fan with their hand raised and passing them a microphone. “Hi, I was wondering, what was the songwriting process like?” They ask, nerves evident in their voice. 

A presence approaches. Minho strides over to your location on stage, ultimately positioning to brush his shoulder against yours. It’s the kind of casual affection nobody would ever think twice about - if this was one of his concerts, and if you were one of his members. 

“Be careful,” you whisper to him, trying not to let the audience catch on to the fact that there’s anything to catch on to. 

He smirks in return. “Always.” 

Four questions pass, and you finally get one aimed for you specifically. You are describing the creative vision for your upcoming album. At some point Minho gravitates over to you again. As you speak, growing excitement radiates off the crowd, “ - I’m so proud of this one and I cannot wait for you to hear it!” 

Your smile widens as resulting cheers ensue. You worked so hard for this moment, and to finally start to see the fruits of your labor fills you with joy. Minho’s gentle hand on your back causes you to meet his eyes. He is already staring at you as if you are the only person in the world. 

Minho did, in fact, forget that you two are on stage. His love for you overwhelms him - he is so honored that you let him share this moment with you. Without thinking, he caresses your cheek, pulls you in, and kisses you. 

Your breath hitches. 

Maybe nobody noticed. Maybe not a single person in the crowd was looking at you or Minho right at that moment. 

The hush that sweeps the audience slashes your delusions. The overwhelming noise a moment later shoots straight into your heart. Yet, you don’t regret it. Minho’s expression mirrors your emotions. Shocked yet happy. 

Han notices what just happened and tries his best to get the crowd under control. Unfortunately, his idea was to sweep past it by continuing with the Q&A. “Alright! Does anyone else have a question for us?” The crowd goes crazy for the second time in five minutes.

Changbin - SKZ-Talker

A strong knock reverberates through yours and Changbin’s hotel room. 

“Mgrhnmm,” Changbin so eloquently mumbles, still 80% asleep after his post-concert adrenaline crash. The urgent knock sounds again. You peel yourself away from him and pad over to the door, adjusting your pajama set so you don’t look as rumpled when you swing it open. 

Chan stands there, staring at his laptop screen, eyebrows furled in either annoyance or concern. Or both. 

“Is Changbin here?” he asks. 

“Chan, I respect the creative process, but it’s three in the morning. Your work will still be there in the morning. Please let him sleep,” you respond, your usual wariness to speak to Chan like that replaced by your actual weariness. 

A flicker of confusion drifts through his eyes. “No, that’s not it. You haven’t seen?” He steps into the room and shuts the door behind him. Changbin’s eyes flutter open at the sound of your conversation. You waste no time falling back into the cozy bedding.

Chan takes a seat at the desk, angling the laptop so you two can see it from your positions. The latest SKZ-Talker is paused on screen, Seungmin’s face frozen as he talks to the camera lens. 

“What’s this about hyung?” Changbin asks, finally sitting up now that it’s evident Chan will be staying a while. 

“Yeah, I mean I know Seungmin’s pretty,” you chime in, choosing to ignore Changbin’s nod of agreement, “but why are you showing us this?”

“Look.” Chan points to a spot over Seungmin’s shoulder. “Is that or is that not you two kissing?” 

Oh. Oh no. 

He’s right. With the angle Seungmin’s holding the camera, viewers can see straight down the hallway Changbin was using to warm up. And there’s you, pressing a kiss to his lips as encouragement before he goes on stage. Your stomach drops. 

You barely process Chan’s continued talking. “It’s not as bad as it could be. It’s a split second, the editors must have missed it. I’ll show you,” he rewinds the video a couple seconds and presses play. You two aren’t even on screen anymore. Seungmin’s voice fills the room as he walks through the venue’s hallways. Then, there it is. He shifts his hand, and over his shoulder, the camera captures Changbin leaning into you, smiling as you kiss him. The scene disappears behind a wall as Seungmin keeps walking. 

“Most people haven’t even noticed it. But -” Chan pauses. “But there are already some comments recognizing Changbin. They don’t know who you are,” he looks at you. The “yet” remains unspoken. 

Changbin curses. “Can we delete the video? Edit that part out? Something?”

Your vision tunnels on the screen. How could you be so careless? You knew they were filming a SKZ-Talker that day. You know how easily idols have dating rumors, you should have been more careful. Changbin’s going to have a scandal once Dispatch gets their hands on this. 

Changbin’s hands on your shoulders bring you back to reality. “You okay, princess?”

Your stunned nod tells him you’re not okay. 

“Look at me. Nobody’s mad at you for kissing me,” he brushes some hair out of your face, “I’m especially not mad at you for kissing me. In fact, I think you should do it more often.” His smile mirrors your small grin at his words.

“Yeah. But -” Chan pauses for the second time that night. “Our manager does want to get ahead of this. He’s requesting to discuss it with you now.” Chan notices your shoulders slump. “He doesn’t seem upset. Just stressed.” 

“Okay. Yeah. We’ll head over there,” Changbin replies. Chan nods and quietly slips out of the room. 

Changbin pulls you into him. “I’ve got you,” he whispers, the sound slightly muffled by where his mouth meets the top of your head. “Let me do most of the talking, yeah? We’ll be okay.”

You pull away, his arms dropping to still rest on your waist. “We should probably get going.” Your legs slightly shake as you stand to walk towards the exit. Changbin grabs your hand, his strong grip anchoring you into him. 

Hyunjin - through an Instagram post

Hyunjin fills his house with artwork scattered everywhere. It adorns his walls, his tables, his life. He makes sure no pictures of the two of you are visible through any mirror selfies - your own fans would recognize you, and he’d have a hard time explaining why a photostrip of him kissing you exists. 

Hyunjin’s most recent photo dump is doing unusually well. He smiles as he recalls the memories attached to each picture. He reviewed each photo before posting, but for the first time, he notices that one of your paintings is in the background of one of his selfies. 

The painting that you had posted on your story two days ago when you finished it.

The painting that detail-oriented STAYS and fans of yours are now asking questions about. 

Does the art in the third slide look similar to Y/N’s from a couple days ago??  omg that’s Y/N’s painting!!!!! she said she loved that painting and now it’s in hyunjin’s room?? are they together?? 

Hyunjin’s thumb scrolls down the comments, nitpicking anything mentioning you. You two don’t even follow each other to dissuade any notion of familiarity. Now, it’s snowballing, more and more people catching on when they read previous comments. 

wait whos Y/N???? his gf apparently!!

Hyunjin deletes the whole post. His notifications show an uptick of comments on his previous photo. Fuck. Your Instagram is the same: a growing number of comments asking about your relationship status under pictures of a completely unrelated photoshoot. Fuck. 

He needs to tell you himself before you are bombarded on social media. He texts So we might have to come forward about us sooner than planned. Like right now. 

Your name lights up his phone screen. Fuck. He accepts the call, and immediately launches into a not-dramatic-at-all explanation of how his love for his favorite artist in the whole world exposed your relationship, and really this is your fault if you think about it, because you created the painting in the first place, and you should have known he would love it so much.  

You’re silent until he finally pauses to take a breath. Then, your quiet laughter fills his ears. “I mean, I figured something like this would happen eventually, pabo.”

“You’re not mad?”

“No, love.” 

“You promise?”

“I promise.”

Hyunjin can finally breathe again. An idea springs to his mind. “We NEED to have the best official launch photos!! Can I paint us?”

[yayamrata]

KILLSHOT BABY

summary: the gang goes laser tagging, gojo is a try hard and keeps winning but then gets zapped in the heart by you.

pairings: gojo satoru x fem reader

warnings and contents: slightly suggestive, making out, non curse au, highschool au, gojo and geto are a little fruity but are u even friends if ur not a little fruity with each other? mentions of (laser) guns, gojo thought he was about to get your cookie, a little bit of chaotic interaction between the guys. oneshot.

notes: dedicated to my friend who loves gojo sm, my first time ever writing a make out scene i cringed sm proof reading it, I went laser tagging twice, once indoor and outdoor, my dad was the one that was up in high ground and sniping everyone and during the outdoor one he was rolling around on the floor as if in some action movie get him an acting job guys, so if they’re not accurate don’t kill me.

word count: 5k

Beep beep.

Again and again, the godforsaken noise followed by flashing red sounded consecutively with every successful target hit. The irate groan of the tagged player that greeted his ears sent pure euphoria through his veins, quenching his thirst for victory.

Gojo crouched low, his infrared-emitting laser gun clutched closely by his side, an extension of himself with his pinpoint precision that aided in the effortless fall of his opponents. The walls and ramps of this maze-like arena too were of his domain, a fortified defence against the players that sought vengeance through his blood. Spread far and high with some areas open to enable stealth sniping, omniscient eyes glowed ominously in the darkness that swept over the heap of the labyrinth. Neon spotlights traversed and lit over his blind spots, mitigating any surprise attacks and guiding his vision towards another absolute conquest.

One after another, Gojo skilfully pulled the trigger and didn’t miss his mark. Headshots. He was aiming to win by a landslide solely with his headshots. It was supposed to be a minor ego boost— alright, scratch that- a major ego boost. How could he pass up the opportunity to make himself appear more— more dreamy?

A swoon-worthy display of expertise displayed by none other than the man himself, between the meticulous movement of his slender fingers and the precision of his flawless aim that seemed to pinpoint the exact placement of otherworldly reactions. Gojo didn’t mean to toot his own horn, but the innuendo was up in the air, left to be inferred.

10, 9, 8–

Tongue gliding over his teeth, he focused his last efforts on his hearing. Over the loud blaring of the countdown and the obnoxious music, down to his controlled breathing, Gojo keenly listened for any approaching figure. His eyes narrowing briefly under his shades when heels clicked resoundingly on the ground floor.

7, 6, 5–

Movements a blur, he shrunk into position, aim steady on the incoming thrum of footsteps and inwardly shook off his rising suspicion. It can’t be… His brows furrowed unsurely, stomach coiling with dread as he licked his drying lips.

4, 3, 2–

Shit!

Jaw clenched, Gojo abruptly rolled out of the way— out of the arrival’s sight he hoped. Kissing his tongue at the stinging burn that invaded his senses, damn it, his palm flew to cradle his grazed elbow, biting his lips to silence his pained grunt.

—1! END OF ROUND TWO, REGROUP AT THE ENTRANCE AND ROUND THREE WILL BEGIN SHORTLY!

Why the hell did it have to be you that just had to appear of all people?!

The lighting in the indoor arena brightened gradually after the announcement. Gojo screwed his eyes shut in the sudden change of atmosphere and the exasperation of his prior avoidance when he’d made brief eye contact with you.

Well, eye contact was an extreme over-exaggeration of that pathetic moment shared earlier between the both of you.

Stumbling in his steps, he took a detour towards the exit, ignoring the dull throbbing in his ankle as he hoped— pleaded, prayed, and begged to whatever higher power, to whatever deity came to mind, that he wouldn’t run into you again. Especially not after he’d just let you off so easily.

No—! No, there’s just no way… that’s not true. Gojo didn’t purposely abstain from tagging you, no, that’s just an absurd thought to even entertain. It’s not that he missed you on purpose, no— no, no, no, it’s just that time ran out. Yeah! That’s it! Time ran out and he just didn’t have enough time to pull the trigger, uhuh, yeah…

Well clearly he had enough time to roll out of your sight, but just not enough time to shoot you. Yep, totally ran out of time. What a shame, now you were going to sport that smug grin you always donned when you won one over himself.

“Oi, Satoru!” A heavy palm landed on his shoulder and pulled him to the culprit. “How many kills ya got this— hm,” his words came to an abrupt pause seeing the expression, or lack of thereof, on Gojo’s face. Using his unoccupied hand to pinch his chin, a shit-eating grin adorned the raven-hair’s face. “What thoughts are wunning thwough the head of the pwetty boy wight now?”

“Hah?“ Gojo let himself be dragged into Geto’s fond embrace whilst pulling a questionable face at the obvious rage-bait, the kind of face you only pull when there’s a piece of repulsive shit infested with parasites in front of your very eyes, or when a grown ass man speaks with an infant’s voice.

“Woah..! Gojo-senpai’s thoughtful face is so charismatically dreamy~!” Haibara swooned like a love-struck schoolgirl, an aura of flowers and everything nice blooming comically around him.

“Keep praising him like that and his head will grow bigger than it already it.” Nanami held back the urge puke, an expression of incredulity pointed at the brunette beside him. Was he seriously being serious right now? What was so swoon-worthy about their over-grown, perverted child-like senior?

“Hah?! Ya wanna go, you little emo shit?!” Gojo bared his teeth like a feral animal on steroids, ready to pounce the fed up blond and make him regret voicing out his opinion, though he was immediately held back by Geto.

“I’d rather not, Gojo-san.” Nanami was quick in his attempt to decline Gojo’s call for a brawl, key words attempt. The only issue was that Gojo wasn’t offering to brawl, he was making a demand for it.

“Don’t get all smart-mouthed with me now, you gloomy brat!” Gojo was now growling as if infected by rabies, and Geto could only wish he had access to some horse tranquilliser to sedate the violent beast flailing like a fool in his arms.

“If anything, you’re the over-grown, gloomy brat who was sulking just earlier, Gojo-san.” Nanami responded cooly, he was a patient guy and patience clearly was a compulsory virtue required when dealing with tantrum-throwing children.

“Whaaat?! Now ya really askin’ for an ass-whoopin’, Nanamin!” The nickname seemed to have baited the reaction Gojo was looking for as irk marks grew by the blond’s temple.

“U-uh, Gojo-san! P-please calm down-!” A meek voice finally opened up after working up a sweat to challenge his senior (he gathered up the courage to finally speak up).

“Shut the hell up, Ijichi!” Gojo turned to face the bespectacled boy and hissed right in his face, beads of spit landing pathetically on the poor boy’s glasses.

“Eugh-! I’m sorry!” Ijichi was quick to express his regret, apparently feeling apologetic enough to even perform dogeza then and there in public server.

“Owoah! Gojo-senpai looks so charismatically dreamy even when’s he’s raging!” Hands placed nimbly over his mouth, Haibara tittered with awe as if he’d finally discovered the seven ancient wonders of the world.

Geto sweat dropped at the junior’s teasing comment, it seems only one out of the rest caught on to the ‘let’s tease Gojo by complimenting him’ memo, the rest not so much… “You’ve got a good eye, Haibara-kun, Satoru is certainly the object of all desires with his tsun-tsun personality. Aren’t you, Satowu-kwun~?” Geto pulled him by the neck and gave him an affectionate noogie, tuffs of short pale hair ruffling under the pressure of his fist as he puckered up his lips to make an obnoxious ‘kissy face’.

“…” Gojo stayed quiet for a bit, before jutting out his lower lip in slight embarrassment and muttering a response that left the other thoroughly amused, “I’ll seriously impregnate you Suguru…”

“Please get a room.” Nanami broke the awkward silence that followed between the juniors as both seniors seemed to be locked in some kind of heated stare down.

“…..”

“You, should learn to seriously read the room.” Haibara muttered whilst shaking his head in unadulterated disappointment. The action causing the blond to flinch at the unexpected scolding from the usually kind brunette.

“Seriously, Nanami-san. Even I expected better from you.” Ijichi expressed his opinion uncharacteristically, the final straw that derived a pout from the stoic Nanami.

“Nanamin, you bastard!” There he goes again. Geto sighed with fatigue, his grip around Gojo tightening immediately a second time as the easily provoked beast went berserk again. “Always ruining the moment, I’ll give ya a piece of my mind- dammit, let me at him Suguru-!”

“Uh,”

A soft tug at Gojo’s sleeve pulled him out of his feisty outburst, he abruptly twisted his head towards the interruption. “I’m in the middle of something right- now…” his enraged words towards the newcomer dying on his tongue when he looked down to see who it was. Shades ludicrously fell down the slope of his nose, resting just above the tip whilst giving him a clear view of yourself. Eyes wide and round staring up at him. Up and at him. Oh.

Oh.

“Gojo, are you-“ you didn’t even have time to voice out what’s been bothering your mind before Gojo quite literally disappeared from your sight and obnoxiously hid behind the smaller frame of the silently-brooding Nanami. His figure hunched like an alarmed prey. “…What’s wrong with him…?”

“….” Geto stared at Gojo and then yourself and then completely avoided your suspicious gaze, discretely blinking the secret sos signal towards Shoko and prayed she’d help. “Oh, nothing. He just needs to take a shit or something...” Forgive me, Satoru. What must be done must be done.

You simply blinked and gave a nod. Accepting whatever Geto had to say was infinitely better than trying to question it. Looking back towards Gojo, you sweat-drop seeing the lanky guy sneak a peak in your direction over Nanami’s shoulder. The latter looking extremely disgruntled to be used as some kind of barrier and the former sporting a constipated frown. Maybe he does need to take a shit…

“Results have been registered to the leaderboard, the next and final round will be a team battle as requested by players and will begin in 15 minutes.”

The announcement from the worker caught all your attention, the digital screen lighting up consequently with the updated rankings of the previous round and to nobody’s damn surprise, Gojo had yet again dominated the second round as he did the first, taking the lead with an unnecessarily large margin. Yet rather than gloating his win like he did before, he was visibly preoccupied and unusually tight-lipped, still stood behind Nanami who came in second followed by Mei-Mei who placed third in the podium.

Gojo’s lack of preening didn’t go unnoticed by his peers, but even so, they decided against voicing out their concerns. The silence wasn’t really all that bad. It didn’t go completely unappreciated. A moment finally devoid of Gojo’s typically condescending remarks was actually quite nice (and peaceful) for a change.

“…..”

Except it was just unsettling!

Utahime, however, seemed to prematurely conclude that Gojo’s silence was a telling of him conspiring something. Something absolutely awful for the next round which was decided to be girls vs boys. Grabbing Mei Mei’s arm, she whisper-yelled out the thoughts that were bothering her, “he’s definitely plotting something, that damn Gojo!”

Mei-Mei, finally glanced down from Gojo and his weird avoidance towards you to stare at Utahime, her previously pensive stare turning to scheming smile. “Then we ought to plan something back as revenge, right~?”

“Damn right!” The pig-tailed girl grinned all teeth at the prospect of machinating against the exasperating narcissist. Turning to face you and Shoko who were together, she tried to signal you both over, but to no avail, Shoko was too deeply immersed in Gojo’s kills of the prior games. There was a recurring pattern, she noticed. Out of all eight available players for Gojo to tag, only seven of those number appeared to have been detected, the other strangely absent from his ridiculously long list. And it couldn’t have been some kind detection error in the system, as that number was clearly registered in Mei-Mei’s and Nanami’s kill list.

“(Name), what’s your gun number?” Shoko asked with a long drawl, holding her lollipop by the stick as if it were a cigarette.

“Eleven?” You answered unsurely, curious to see what the bobbed girl had realised just by staring at the scoreboard.

“Hmm, I knew it..” The brunette exhaled with amusement, cracking the sweet with her teeth as she languidly pocketed her hands in her skirt.

“Knew what..?” Utahime inquired, approaching Shoko with Mei-Mei in tow, the latter thoughtful with an inkling suspicion.

“(Name), did you come across Gojo in the last match?” Shoko titled her head towards you, hoping to confirm her thoughts.

“Oh, I did! Right at the end though… but luckily he ran out of time to tag me!” You swiped the bottom of your nose smugly, oddly prideful of remaining un-tagged throughout both games.

“S’that so?” She hummed casually to which you nodded in response.

“By the way, why did you approach Gojo earlier?” Mei-Mei who was silently observing, finally inquired restlessly.

“Ah, I think he fell right at the end…”

“He fell..?”

“Yeah, right as I saw him, I blinked and he was just- he suddenly left my sight! Well, it looked more like he rolled out of the way… Anyway it was a pretty loud fall…”

“Serves the bastard right!” Utahime quipped with a pleased huff, her fists clenching sadistically at the aforementioned asshole being injured.

“…He abruptly rolled out of the way..?” Mei-Mei pushed her pale hair out of her face, rumination etched on her visage. So that’s how he hurt himself, she concluded inwardly with a satisfied sigh. Her prior questions of his out of the blue limping now answered.

“Yep!”

“He had enough time to roll out of the way, but not enough time to tag you…?” Shoko absentmindedly chewed on the forgotten sucker.

“Well, when you put it like that…“ your voice trailed off dubiously, now feeling slightly stupid that you decided to ignore that fact. It’s not like you could help it, being delusional would only leave you heartbroken. It was in your best interest to dismiss your feelings as nonexistent rather than confessing and having them turned down. Receiving confirmation that your feelings were unrequited wasn’t really on your bucket list. Yeah…

“Uh-! About the plan guys! Lunch is riding on whoever loses this round— haha. Erm, any ideas..?” Utahime tried to lighten the mood after noticing your strained mien.

“(Name), you mentioned he hurt himself?” Mei-Mei singsonged guilefully, arm circling your neck as she leaned over your stature, her words crawling down your neck. “Since your indirectly at fault, shouldn’t you take responsibility~?”

“Mei-Mei.” Shoko warned firmly, her tone pinched but resounding.

“Don’t worry, Shoko. There’s many benefits to my plan. So listen well, (Name)…”

From cross the waiting room, Gojo gulped down the water Geto offered him, his stare drifted back to you no matter how many countless times he caught himself in the lecherous act. Dammit, why did he have to freeze up like a fucking virgin who’s never felt the touch of a woman earlier? Because that’s what he was. Now, because of his hormonal teenage-boy feelings, he completely missed the chance to speak to you and hear what you wanted to ask him. Fuck! I’m such a fucking idiot—

Bzzz.

Gojo’s spiralling came to a short pause when he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. Raising a brow to see an unread message from sent Mei-Mei, he opened it to sate his confusion only to be left more puzzled with her cryptic comment.

Mei-Mei: you owe me me cash.

What the hell? Did all those loose screws finally cause some kind of collateral damage that was beyond curable? Gojo looked up from his phone curious to see what kind of expression the psychopath would be sporting only to be graced with your determined gaze that was acutely pointed in his direction. When he met your eyes on accident, you resilient countenance shifted and you grinned with your eyes. The smug kind of grin he just couldn’t stand seeing on you.

Oh. His blood ran cold.

Just what the hell were you planning?

3, 2, 1, AND BEGIN!

As the blare of the announcement wore off, both the infrared-sensitive signalling devices worn by you and the laser emitting gun clutched tightly in your hand flashed to life. Darkness consumed the path ahead sauf for the LED lights on your vests and the mobile, neon light fixtures.

This round, you were more determined than the other. With the monetary reward Mei-Mei promised to compensate you with, you were convinced you could pull off anything without fearing for the consequences. The scheme was well-integrated into your mind, and whilst Mei-Mei’s unhinged plans usually made you uncertain, this time it was oddly encouraging.

Whilst remembering Shoko’s warnings, you furtively made your way into the vertical labyrinth. Stopping every few corners to determine a clear coast before moving forward in hopes to find the subject of your desire. Gojo tended to stay up in high grounds and snipe anyone below with the clear bird-eyes view of the whole arena he was granted with. No wonder he got so many kills, anyone in lower grounds wouldn’t be able to dodge a shot if they didn’t even know where it came from.

You had to applaud his strategic thinking, despite his cocky mannerisms, he diligently backed his big talk with his display of expertise. Biting your lip in slight apprehension, you nodded self-encouragingly. There was no point abandoning the plan now, not when you were this far in, and not when you were just a ramp away from victory.

Mindful of the clack in your heel that gave you away last round, you subdued your footsteps and controlled your breathing. Movements now slow but steady, Shoko’s explanation played through your mind.

“Gojo hasn’t tagged you once in any of the last two games, he’s avoiding you at all cost it seems. I highly doubt he’ll shoot you, so if your up for it… then go for it.”

The plan Mei-Mei came up with was a bit of gamble… Utahime seemed thoroughly disgusted by the mere notion of it but Shoko didn’t seem too bothered. If anything, she seemed a little pleased, even gave you that lazy grin and that soft consolation that would one-hundred percent work in making you fight a losing battle with no regrets.

Peeking by the wall that separated the both of you, you waited until his back was turned to you, preoccupied with whichever player he was ardently following with his gun before your rushed in on him. No physical attacks, I have to just disarm him with my charisma alone! The noise of your heels alerted him, he quickly turned to face the invader freezing when he saw your arms closing in on him. Not around him but slamming fiercely against the wall behind him, trapping his larger stature in between your much smaller frame.

“Gojo..” your voice sounded low with silent desperation, watching his spine go rigid. You observed darkly as he gulped nervously, his Adam’s apple bopping temptingly. Absentmindedly biting your lips at the effect it had on you, his eyes sharply followed the movement behind his shades, shifting back up to your face and observing the shadows your lashes casted over the swell of your cheeks.

Testing his limits, you bought a tender hand to his chest letting it rest momentarily before trailing it down, feeling every groove and curve under his loose fitted shirt. He glared at you, jaw clenched when your fingers picked at the light emitting vest, your brows furrowed, plump bottom lip jutting out as if the garment were a hinderance to your wandering hands. “Gojo—“

Your call was abruptly interrupted when he aggressively closed the limited proximity. Chest pressing flush against his when his fingers hooked around your skirt’s belt loops and aggressively tugged you to him, his laser gun now left unattended much like yours. “Gojo this, Gojo that-“ he hissed right up in your ear, the words spat with carnal desires as a trail of goosebumps grew down the base of your neck. “Just call me— fuck! Damn you— shit!”

Watching him struggle with his words would’ve been world class entertainment had you not also been feeling as equally aching as him. “Satoru? Or d’you want me to call you Toru instead? Hmm, Toru?” You uttered with quiet allure, your fingers grazing his jawline, testing the waters and much to your pleasant surprise, he didn’t pull away, remaining inhumanly still as his hot breath fanned your skin. You gambled further, hooking your index under the nose bridge of his beloved shades to remove them and sport them yourself as a headband.

“The hell are you scheming now, you damn minx?” He snarled weakly, expression turning foul at your taunting touch and the scornful nickname. “You know damn well that touching another player gets you disqualified.”

“Since when did you care about the rules, Toru?” You smiled with mock disappointment, lowering both your hands when he brought up the contact rule.

“Never cared for rules, it’s you who does.” He grabbed both your hands, placing one back on his chest and bringing the other to completely palm his cheek. “You’re the one with a stick up you ass.”

“Will you pull it out for me then?” You mocked, thumb grazing the supple of his skin.

“Shut up.” Gojo grumbled, nuzzling into the warmth of your hand like some clingy house cat.

“I don’t care if I get disqualified, Toru.” Well, that was half true. Sure, you wanted whatever this was, but winning a meal and gaining some extra cash was definitely a shared priority.

“Don’t say things you don’t mean, (Name).” His usual boisterous voice was nowhere to be found, replaced by a husky drawl.

“I swear on my heart.” The hand you had on his chest encircled his wrist and placed it over your chest, over your beating heart. You gasped when he instinctively groped the pliant flesh. “Mm— Toru!”

“Fuck, (Name). I told you not to fucking tease me…” Gojo whined gruffly, his composure threatening to snap.

“M’not, I swear..” your voice came out as a mewl, and unable to manage your yearning, you pulled him down by his shirt’s collar. Short and sweet, your lips found his. Grip loosening from his now creased shirt, your hands tangled tenderly within the tuffs of his pale hair.

Gojo took a while to respond. It took him a good moment to realise what was happening, his initial shock melting softly into your soft, featherlight touch. Gojo soon grabbed you by your waist and tugged you closer to deepen the kiss. His wandering hands caught you off guard, eliciting a noise of surprise from the contact, much to his amusement.

Goosebumps swarmed everywhere he marred your body with the intensity of his touch. Hands tracing your curves, he nibbled with aching hunger at your lower lip, a crude request to be let into your wet cavern. You gasped at the burn, mouth opening and inviting his tongue into your proximity. The wet warmth that welcomed him weakened the strength in his body, locking the feelings in his joints. His knees buckled pathetically under your lure and with whatever vigour he could gather, he gripped your waist tighter and pulled you down with him.

Teasing every edge of yourself, you moaned into his mouth, breath catching in your throat as your mind scrambled to take control. Sure you were distracting him as intended, but at the cost of your life? Seriously? You attempted to pull back, to momentarily break the kiss, but Gojo followed your movement. Lips still locked onto yours in desperation as he devoured your gasps of pleasure like it was what kept him alive.

Your eyes glazed with the lack of air, hoping- praying for some kind of interruption, at this rate he was going to kill you, forget free food or money! What good was luxury in death—? Quickly! You clambered to find your laser gun, you had to catch him off guard whilst he was clearly preoccupied and leave him helpless. Palming whatever was below you, your eyes widened when his hand found its way atop yours, did he catch on?

Your hands clenched around what you believed to be the smooth curve of your gun, but you stopped unsurely when his hands tightened around your wrist. What was that… lump..? You pawed at it again, and your eyes zeroed when he broke the kiss for a split second with a whimper, you watched lecherously as his brows scrunched tight in pleasure.

Your attention was quickly stolen when you heard footsteps reaching up to where you both were. Panicked, you tried to push yourself off, placing both hands on his chest to use as leverage, but to no avail, his hand settled onto your cheek. Gojo ran his thumb over your bruised lip and hoarsely whispered, “kiss me.” Hand slowly sliding into your hair, he guided you back down in between his spread legs and licked your bottom lip with yearning, “please.”

How could you possibly say no when he was begging so ardently?

“But Toru, somebody’s there—“

He answered your worries with another deep kiss. Pressing your body down his growing problem, he grabbed the cord that connected your vest to your gun and pulled it closer towards him. Gun now in his dexterous hand, his arm outstretched and pointed at the mirror conveniently place behind you. Without breaking the kiss, he used the reflection of the mirror to redirect the course of the laser beam. Bullseye, the figure he caught in the corner trying to sneak in was a member of his team, he concluded from the colour of the LED light. And noting their pathetic stance, it was most likely Ijichi. Cockblocker, tch.

Gojo quickly let go of the gun and palmed the swell of your tights clad thighs, his hand roamed, teasing up and below your skirt, the material scrunched up at your hips under his ministrations. His fingers toyed with the material of your tights, pinching and twisting at the flimsy fabric, unaware of its delicate nature. He tugged on a piece of loose string a little too hard and snagged the stretchy fabric, the gaping hole a taunting invite to your supple skin, and accept the invite did Gojo. His fingertips, cool to the touch, wandered in, drawing gentle circles against that small strip of bare skin which seized the air out of you.

You gasped at the sudden cold touch, acutely aware of how swiftly Gojo handled the situation you were nearly going to shit yourself over. A neon light blared over both your eager bodies, and you caught sight of your laser-gun just beside Gojo’s leg. Gaze falling back to the man below you, you watched as his brows furrowed passionately deep in the kiss.

You unwillingly broke the kiss, a string of saliva connecting the both of your parted lips together, evidence of the heated moment shared between the two of you. Lips glossed with his spit, you were left panting to catch your breath. Gojo watched you whilst throbbing with the ache of sweet release, he gazed at you, with lust-glazed eyes as your chest heaved. Scrutinising the movement of your chest, he committed to memory the image of your disheveled hair and bruised lips, settled all pretty in the warmth of his lap.

“You’re so perfect…” he murmured mindlessly into your lips that weren’t much further from his, inhaling the air you breathed out as if it were some kind of divine nourishment.

“Toru…” you whined at the compliment, face flushing in heat at the sincerity of his words. One hand palmed his face whilst the other inched towards your laser-gun.

“Kiss me again,” he pleaded drunk off your taste. “Kiss me ‘till I grow fuckin’ sick of it.”

You responded to his wish with a tender kiss, caressing the nape of his neck and softly scratching the tuffs of his short, white hair. Consuming him entirely, his eyes shut close, enjoying the blissful moment of your dominating sweetness, completely unaware of your scheming intentions. A heavy poke to left of his chest urged him to blearily open his eyes. Your gun placed directly over the target on his vest closest to his chest didn’t alarm him. Gojo blinked softly at your compromising positions, watching your lips with silent awe as you spoke. “I would’ve aimed for your head had I been immune to your charm, but…”

“But..?”

“But I was told specifically to aim for your heart if I wanted it for myself.” You flashed that smug grin of yours that he loved so much.

“S’all yours to take, pretty.” He chuckled lightly, the prettiest dimples becoming visible by the corners of his mouth.

“Thank you.” You whispered, pulling the trigger and watching as the blue light of his infrared-detecting vest signaled and flashed the familiar red of a tagged player. A kaleidoscope of butterflies erupted in the pit of his stomach, a ticklish sensation buzzed deep in his core and he wondered whether the feeling was from the vibration of being tagged or whether it was from the final kiss you left on his bruised elbow in his haze. “Don’t go tagging anyone else, Toru.”

As if he could even move with the growing tent between his legs that you were responsible for.

@yayamrata please don’t plagiarise, steal, translate, or alter my work in any way, you may like it, reblog it and request for other characters.

[tojissugarprincess]

at the front door . . .

‘fffft . . . get it together, satoru. you’re just delivering an imaginary pizza’

. . . rings doorbell 

꒰ ♡ ୧ ﹒﹒roleplaying gets silly with gojo cw : none (っ╹ᆺ╹)っ i find them to be cuties <3 kinda dumb + dumber . i can also imagine bimbo reader actually acting like this without the act which i wanna write >.<

the ring of the doorbell echos throughout the halls, your socks shuffling down the stairs and to the front door. there standing satoru, hiding behind the large pizza box that should have been thrown in the garbage two weeks ago. but he insisted on needing the grease stained cardboard for something. this was the something in question.

satoru lowers the box just an inch so he could take a peek at your pretty face. even after dating for almost a year, he still got nervous looking at it. “alrightyyy, one. . . large pepperoni pizza?” he plasters a sweet grin on his face. words are hesitant and trembling from holding in his giggles.

“yes, that’s for me.” you mirror his smile. the two of you stared at each other awkwardly but not uncomfortably. “. . . i think it’s your line, satoru.” you mutter, kicking the porch’s welcome mat gently before meeting his eyes again.

“oh! right. i knew that.” he clears his throat, shuts his eyes, and sucks in a short breath. his eyes open and he flashes a charming smile. “so, that will be,” he takes a look at the receipt for your pizza ( which was actually an old dollar tree receipt he found in the center console of his car ) and reads it over, mumbling random numbers under his breath.“$14.50, ma’am.” he grins.

you pull yourself together and pat around the pockets of your shorts and gasp dramatically. “shit, i have no money on me.” you pout, and satoru’s grin grows stronger. “how am i supposed to pay for my pizza?” you look up at him in mock cluelessness. not a thought behind those eyes.

satoru hums and scratches his chin, looking up in an act of thought. “looks like you’re eating microwaveable mac and cheese tonight.” he gives you an aggravating smile and turns on his heel to leave.

“satoru!” you hiss, grabbing the back of his shirt causing him to stumble back into the open doorway. you fight a fit of giggles when he lands flat on his ass, cardboard box open and covering his tummy.

“that was totally uncalled for.”

“you weren’t supposed to walk away, dummy!”

second try ( and last as it’s getting a bit too late and the neighbors get nosey when there’s a hint of commotion after 9pm ) :

satoru goes to hand you the box, the lightweight cardboard fumbling in his hands and hitting your nose. “ah—sorry!” he drops the box entirely, his hands instead moving to tend to your nose. a look of guilt crossed his expression, embarrassment found through the tint of his cheeks.

you sport a shy smile. “it’s alright satoru. it’s not like you broke my nose.” you assure him. your face scrunches up when his cold fingers touch the tip of your pink nose. you pull back on instinct, but his hand draws you back in with its place on the back of your head.

“the grease on the box made it slip.” he mutters under his breath before looking back into your eyes. he grins sheepishly. “are you sure it didn’t hurt?”

“i’m sure, pizza boy.” you press your lips in a thin line to subside your giggles. “you’re just a bit clumsy.”

a small scowl appears on his face at the nickname. “. . . just a bit.”

the two of you look at each other with dumb lovestruck gazes. the eye contact goes on for a few seconds longer than necessary. you let your giggles run. “yeah just a bit.” the giggles formed into a full gut laugh.

“i don’t know why you’re laughing.” he pouts. “i was trying to be suave, and you just laugh at me!” he crosses his arms and whips his head away from you. satoru squeezes his eyes and suppresses the smile begging to be seen.

“it’s funny when you get all huffy.” you giggle, resting your forehead against his chest. his shirt muffles your amusement, vibrating into his skin and to the base of his throat. he couldn’t help but let out a snort from the tickle.

“you’re too unserious.” he grumbles, directing one open eye down to your body, leaning against his to support your laughing bones. despite his grumpy attitude, he can’t stop the smile from forming on his face.

“can we just skip the whole pizza man roleplay act for tonight? i’m getting antsy over here.”

[mixtape127]

オンラインラブ ☆ (online love)

genre : non!idol bang chan x gn reader, college au, cliché nerd!chan, and bf!chan

summary : Because loving Chan is an easy task.

warnings : none, except tooth rotting fluff...

words : 2.1k

notes : GUYS i've been gone for so long omg, got busy with uni and life as a whole so i was kinda inactive for idk how long??? but im starting to write again so here i am <3 and btw, english isn't my native language, so i really do hope i actually wrote well and if i made dumb mistakes, i'm sooooooo sorry :((

Loving Chan has always been an easy task. Not that you’d fall into a routine and get bored on the second week into dating. No. It’s just easy, and it’s meant to work out. You knew loving him was right the first time you two went out for a drink in matching shirts (with the ghosts from Pacman on it, yours was green and his was blue). Or the first time you went to IKEA because he needed a new shelf (his broke and Chan is a serial organiser, if things aren’t right and in their right place he’ll go mad) and you hid in beds and closets. Or the first time he let you stick glow-in-the-dark stars on his ceiling, holding your ankles so you won’t fall. Or when you complained about him always straightening his hair and he ended up stopping and bought a rose-scented shampoo to help his curls come back again. 

You love a lot of things about this man. His mouth, when it sometimes goes sideways when he speaks, and how his plump lips look in the morning when he’s been pouting all night. He hates certain fabrics, and hates wearing rings because they irritate his skin. Chan likes the scent of honey and milk, and collects wolf plushies. He’s cute when he’s thinking, when he doesn’t figure things out. You secretly hope he never figures anything out.

In movies, everyone says that dating a nerd is lame, that they look dumb with their big glasses and would rather stay in front of a laptop than touch a human. But they’re wrong. Oh, they’re so wrong. Because Chan is a nerd: he loves video games, spending his nights playing Genshin Impact and even got banned from League Of Legends because he was cursing people out in Australian slang (you witnessed everything– it looked like the end of the world). He produces music and barely sleeps, stays seated in his desk chair with glasses on and hair sticking out in every goddamn direction. How can a man this hot and built like a fridge turned out to be the sweetest and selfless man on earth? Every time you were feeling down, just the sight of his smile could heal whatever wound that refused to close. The way he would tell you that he’s proud of you even if you just managed to fix the sink in the kitchen. The way his apartment became your second home, because your first was right in his arms. 

Oh god, you felt so lucky. Like ‘lucky-enough-to-bet-a-million-wons-tonight’ or ‘which-god-blessed-me-with-this-gift’ lucky. 

You were stepping out of class when your phone buzzed. The day hasn’t been rougher than others, but it had been kind of tiring. The kind where you would check the time every now and then and pray that the minutes would pass by faster. And it did, at some point. You fish out your phone from your coat’s pocket– because Autumn has been colder than usual– and unlock it. Of course, it was Chan. Or more like ‘do-not-respond (except he’s cute)’ like you had renamed him in your contacts. And has always, no matter how much he claimed he was ‘wolf-like’, when he texts you this way, he sounds like a golden retriever wagging its tail, waiting for his favorite human to get home and cuddle.

do-not-respond (except he’s cute): hey

do-not-respond (except he’s cute): i skipped my last lecture

do-not-respond (except he’s cute): come over

do-not-respond (except he’s cute): got this new update on genshin

do-not-respond (except he’s cute): skirk is hot but not as hot as you….

Of course. Those stupid pick up lines. Of course.

And as always, like a routine, you roll your eyes and head right to the subway, determined to get to your boyfriend’s apartment more than anything. Loving Chan is an easy task, and it’s been an easy task for 9 months already. He joked a week ago about it, something like “Well, we survived long enough for pregnancy!” and you had hit him in the shoulder with the palm of your hand and he pouted for exactly 0.325 seconds before cupping your face and kissing you. You knew that already, but Chan could ruin the whole city down if it meant keeping you safe. He’s just like that. He loves you the sweetest way ever, the purest way ever. Like bright mornings in Spring, birds chirping and soft leaves already showing up through the canopies. Or the first snow in December and the way it paints the streets so beautifully. Or the first drop of water after a long draining day. Or the sweet pastries he always buys you at the corner store when he heads back from University on Mondays.

When you step out of the subway station and after a little 3 minute walk to Chan’s place, it was colder outside. Not the type to freeze down your bones but enough to make them feel a bit breakable. But again, it was something Chan could fix pretty quickly. Like everything else.

Before you even registered it, just like your feet knew where to guide you, you’re in front of his door. You don’t need to knock, you know the password. 031401, a weird combination of your birthdays mixed together in addition. He tried to explain it once, but you never really got it, and stopped questioning it– as long as it made sense in his head, that’s all that mattered. You push open the door, step inside, toss your shoes, placing them neatly and straight, before padding to his bedroom. It smelled like rose, honey, milk, and cedarwood. And it meant that: he took a shower, made himself a hot milk and honey drink, then put on cologne for whatever reasons. Simple.

You push open the door to his bedroom and step inside, putting your bag, coat and scarf down near his bed. His room is always plunged in purple LEDs, a few pictures and posters on one side of the wall, a neatly-made bed, a rug, a closet with mostly dark clothes and a huge desk with everything to play and produce music. And wolf plushies on the shelves above his headboard. 

And then you approach from behind: he’s seated in his desk chair, on his PC, literally smashing the keyboard and mumbling under his breath. He’s in a big hoodie, black– as always– and big baggy sweatpants. No socks, because he never really wears some at home. His hair is messy, curly, and still damp at the ends. His headphones are perched on his ears, and he’s doing that thing he always does: munching on his bottom lip. 

You put both your hands on his shoulders from behind, maybe surprising him a little, because he jolts slightly and his headphones slip. He makes that little yelp, before yanking his head back, looking up at you upside down. And there it is.

That smile. That dimpled smile, the one that silently says that you’re his whole world. You always felt out of place in your own life, not really fitting, not nearly enough. But finding him was like putting a period in the last sentence of a book. A finality. You went through the whole book, and you finally understood. Loving him was an easy task.

“You’re late,” he simply states, smiling with that crooked tilt. 

“3 minutes, Chan,” you simply say back, leaning down to press a slight peck on the tip of his nose. He scrunches it right after.

“3 minutes is too long,” he responds, stretching with his arms up, just an excuse to turn his chair around and face you, hands on your hips while you stand between his legs. “I missed you today.”

“You saw me this morning,” you roll your eyes.

“Yes, and the whole day passed by and I didn’t get to see you,” he states.

“You’re corny.”

“You love me.”

“Sadly.”

That gets you a nudge of his foot in your calf, and you playfully act like he just stabbed you thoroughly. And then silence. Just looking at each other like the other holds the universe in their eyes.

“Come here.” 

He finally says, voice soft, and tinged with that neverending awe he has for you. And you do, you take a step forward as he guides you to sit down on his thighs, straddling his lap and facing him. His hands rest on your hips as he gazes up at you.

“How was your amazing day as a psychology majoring student?”  he asks sarcastically, tilting his head on the side, his fingers drawing patterns on the small of your back above your shirt.

“Prof Lee graded my thesis a meaningful ‘49.37/100’ because it missed some ‘key points’.” you pout, playfully, half joking and half fulminating because gosh, he could have graded more so you’d get the full points.

“What a bitch… Stab him. I’ll bail you out of jail.” Chan answers, pinching your hip slightly.

You yelp, before nudging his shoulder with your hand, and he laughs. That squeaky laugh that makes you think that he’s suffocating sometimes. You shake your head, before scoffing.

“Shut up,” you say.

“Make me.” 

“I won’t.”

“You sure about that, love?” 

And there it is again. That pet name, that endearment. “Love”. Gosh, you usually hate those surnames, but this one? Lethal. You don’t have time to answer before he leans in, his hand coming up to rest on the space under your jaw, fingers half on your cheek and your hair, guiding you to meet him halfway. Every time he kisses you, it feels like the first. You feel a bit nervous, your fingertips become all tingly and trembling for the first few seconds, and your stomach turns and constricts but in the right way. His lips are soft against yours, fitting like two puzzle pieces, like they were written to be joined together. His hand slides on your nape, tangling in your hair to tilt your head to the side, deepening the kiss. It’s not rushed. It’s never rushed. It’s always soft and sweet, always not-too-much, always waiting and asking, always meaning. He kisses you like you’re meant to disappear and it’s the last time he’ll get the chance to do it. He touches you like you’re made of some sort of porcelain that could break under too much pressure. And he holds your hand like he would hold your heart if you gave it to him in a glass jar. Because Chan is like that.

He hums in the kiss, lips moving against yours, and you forget where you are for a moment. He tastes like honey, a mix of sugar and sweetness. Obviously he does. His tongue teases the seam of your bottom lip before you grant him access. The kiss deepens even more, and your hands come up to curl in the collar of his hoodie. He’s so warm, and you’re still a bit cold from outside. But he’s here, so you won’t stay this way forever.

He breaks the kiss only for a moment, and your eyes flutter open. Chan simply reaches up to grab his glasses, taking them off and putting them on his desk behind before crashing– not leaning, crashing– his lips against yours. You gasp a bit in the exchange, but quickly melt into it. Because that’s how Chan is. He’s the sweetest, but gosh he is hot. And when he does things like that, it’s a reminder that he is just a man indeed– but such a hot man. He’s the perfect combination of everything, like he was baked with a recipe with the right amount of everything and not too less or too much. Perfectly balanced. How could he exist?

You move your lips against his, your tongues meeting, your breaths catching perfectly like chords in a melody, your hands holding a bit tighter, brows furrowed in some sort of focus. It feels great, like he’s breathing air back in your lungs while taking it away from you. And when he pulls away, he’s smiling. His lips are kiss-swollen, pinkish and smeared with a bit of saliva. But in a good way again, because everything he does and everything he is is in a good way.

He opens his eyes, heavy lidded but still looking right at you, a grin on his face like the cat that got the cream, and he kinda did. His hand comes up, thumb brushing your bottom lip in a slight left and right motion.

“So, where were we?” he asks, voice sultry, like sugar on cinnamon rolls.

“You’re infuriating.” you mumble.

And he laughs. Because loving Chan is like that.

It has always been an easy task.

[inkdetect]

I appreciate your explanation however I’m still confused as to why they would represent Ivan and Till’s relationship as Ivan forcing Till with Till trying to get away if Till did like him back? I do agree that it’s interesting they’re facing each other with their mouths aligned (smth to do with words?) but eyes not aligned (can’t see eye to eye) in the “intro” to that scene rather than Till just ignoring Ivan entirely

Idk most perception I’m seeing of that scene is negative even from other people who ship Ivantill so it’s really hard for me to wrap my head around it since it’s meant to represent their relationship overall

Hello! I'm doing alright, just getting hit by the AO3 curse. I hope you're doing okay too!

Thanks a lot for asking, you're really making my day, and YESS this is an amazing question! I was wondering if you wouldn't mind me explaining two different points- but I promise it'll explain your question, in a way.

First thing we could start with:

-> Ivan's perfect mask and his self-deprivation

Now, let us start by stating that Ivan is the king of performances. He's an excellent student, a 'submissive pet', a fan's favorite, he was made and forced to keep a smile on his face and stay put as 'practice'. He's practically perfect at moulding himself for others' expectations.

He's more of a trophy than a human, a pet, or more like a dog. He says it himself, in his song 'nowhere', which is pretty interesting to dissect when it comes to learning about Ivan's character and personality- somebody has mentioned that Vivinos herself confirmed that Ivan's personality is the worst out of the entire cast (not necessarily bad or evil!).

His mask is a perfect structure, it's his flaw, weakness and it's a factor that enables the miscommunication between him and till. He can barely be honest with himself, let alone with the muse of his obsession.

I mentioned this in my first analysis- how Ivan often goes from being violent to very affectionate, and why that confuses and freaks the hell out of till.

-> Ivan only does that because he doesn't know how to express his emotions, and that was implied in some comics where he pisses off others just for the sake of it, and as a form of love (or entertainment).

There's also the fact that he was raised in the slums and never knew what affection felt like. So he doesn't know how to express it sincerely.

He's self-sabotaging, self-loathing, and thinks of his love as something parasitic, greedy and selfish.

He still loves till. Because as mizi said- ''I know my love was different from yours, but it was love too.''

He still wishes for till's freedom and happiness, he still wanted him to live, he still wanted him. But he can't try to explain that to Till when they're on limited time. Not when Till hopes for a different kind of healing that Ivan can't provide, and vise-versa.

Alien Stage is about love. Its sin, its effects, its toxicity, its mercy. All relationships are painted in a good and bad light, they all have their flaws, so none of them are really supposed to be perceived positively. It's a bunch of worst case scenarios to show that despite it all, there's still a glimmer of hope for all.

So for those who need to hear this: I'm pretty sure that all ships have to be understood- it's a moral lesson, not dolls for us to meddle and play with, they're not just 'fan service material'.

As I said in the other Ivantill analysis, I fully believe that their relationship is more unrealized than unrequited, because it's a two-way rejection.

-> So why does Till look like he's being forced? Why does he look so distressed?

After all, we know that till wears his heart on his sleeve, he's a very emotional character, that, we know of.

-> Let us not forget that Till is an abuse victim, we saw many instances where he was being exploited, abused, trained and was beaten within an inch of his life. So he doesn't react well to either affection (for instance, mizi's light) or violence.

Though, It's interesting how Till lets Ivan in his personal space without much struggle.

-> He's scared, confused and never fully understood Ivan. So when Ivan, with all of his self hatred and fear, tries to show Till his love and give it to him, and doesn't give him the chance to even understand as he shoves it down, and Till who is startled and simply just wishes to see eye to eye, finally collapse and meet, the heart shatters under Ivan's trembling jaw and tears and Till's struggle.

But Ivan can't love someone properly if he doesn't love himself. And Till can't love him if he isn't ready to come front. Ivan literally took his love confession to the grave.

It's why they're tragic, if they had enough time, if they were willing to try, they would have. They could have.

And for those who need to hear it again: simply calling their relationship ''sexual assault'', instead of trying to analyze and understand how they both gravitate towards each other yet stilled ruin another, doesn't make you a genius.

You don't classify things in black and white boxes.

Relationships are complex.

The characters are complex.

That still doesn't make them bad, or negative.

They're on an alien planet and it's been confirmed that they ALL know that they're going to die, obviously that's going to screw them a bit up.

I hope that this was a good explanation? Honestly I've just explained previous points again and extended them to a conclusion.

It's also hot as hell, I believe that I could manage to cook an egg on the pavement outside. But if there's anything that 's still blurred or unclear, feel free to ask! Thank you for the ask!

[spidermans-l-o-v-e-r]

Burn Baby Burn

Pairing: Buddie x Reader

Word count: 10 freaking K

This is the second half to Disco Inferno

Notes: When I tell you I am FIGHTING to write this month. Man, I’m just fighting to stay awake. Chronic fatigue has not hit this hard since I was a teenager. I have literally been asleep for most of 2025

P.S I feel kinda bad I couldn’t get my goal of 5 fics and a strawberry chapter done this month….. but this is 10k so hopefully it makes up for that 😂😂😂

You lug your bag to the front steps and drop it before ringing the doorbell. The fact that Buck and Eddie had planned this entire thing was literally crazy. Okay well, not really you’re not surprised but it’s still annoying.

You were an adult; you didn’t have to be watched like some baby, but Buck needed the peace of mind that you were okay and that no freak spontaneous fires were going to break out that he wasn’t around to put out.

So you reluctantly agreed to this because Eddie offered (bribed) to make you his Tía Josephina’s famous enchiladas and elote on his day off this week. And how are you gonna turn that kind of offer down?

“Coming!”

The door swings open and immediately you know this was a mistake. He’s standing there in a freaking towel. Water droplets cascade down his hard chest and through the dips and curves of his body.

You let your jaw drop as you stare completely and honestly disrespectfully because Buck talked Eddie up so much and you just thought it was him hyping his best friend as he should but none of that did this Adonis any justice.

Eddie leans against the doorway, legitimately the front door in a whole ass towel, and just watches you back. Because the way you’re short-circuiting is about to cause a whole new problem in a few seconds.

One he and Buck absolutely want you to see.

That’s what all of this was for actually… was it a little sneaky? Yeah definitely but god who cared if it paid off in the end? Buck was into Eddie, Eddie was into Buck which was plain as day but then Buck ended up with you…and apparently their mutual attraction didn’t just end at occasionally finding the same superhero hot. One day at work Buck cornered Eddie and very openly asked him if he had a thing for you and in the effort of being honest with himself for once in his life, Eddie told Buck the truth.

He was very into you.

He promised him he wouldn’t try anything and he was just happy being your friend… but he could just see the damn hamster wheel spinning on all cylinders and a week later Buck came to him with a (and he did the rainbow hands) grand master plan to get all three of you together and Eddie was on board in a heartbeat.

“You good? You got enough or would you like me to remove the towel too?”

That breaks you out of your embarrassing stupor and you shove his chest out of the way and leave your bag on the step for him to bring in. He stumbles backward and laughs, holding the doorframe as you storm inside and wait for you to come in to grab your bag.

Oh, Elle Woods would be proud. He’s not doing the snap part, although Buck made him practice it because his pecs were glorious but you know what the bending part was just fine in his opinion and he waits a second until he knows you’re looking and bends over to grab your bag.

He shuts the door behind him and you’re concentrating very intently on everything but him. He winks when he walks by and you roll your eyes, feeling the flush creeping up your neck and begging it to just freaking go away.

“I’ll go put some clothes on and leave your bag on the bed. I made space in my dresser and closet if you want to unpack.”

“Uh- th-thank you. Thanks that’s nice.. thank you.”

“You’re welcome”

Eddie leaves you with a “Make yourself comfortable” and goes to get changed and you’re… left to be comfortable.

You snatch your phone from your back pocket and immediately text Buck, your fingers hover over the keyboard trying to decide just what to freaking say… hey bro Eddie totally answered the door in a towel! He’s got the fattest ass I’ve ever seen! and it turned me into the biggest puddle ever haha!!

Passenger Princess: Hey I made it to Eddie’s

Smokey The Bear: Okay ❤️ how’s it going?

Passenger Princess: Fine…

Smokey the Bear: Wow that sounds fine! 😀😀 I believe the words you have texted me!!

Passenger Princess: Die.

Passenger Princess: So like. Does your best friend just always like answer the door in a towel

Smokey The Bear: Literally genuinely actually yes. This is just something he freaking does. Did you see that man’s b o d y?

You stare at the text for a second, and you know Buck is waiting for those stupid little bubbles to stop bubbling but like- Yeah. Yeah, you did see it. And like-

Passenger Princess: Yeah

Now you’re watching those three dots and suddenly your phone starts ringing and fuck why is he calling??

“Hey, Buckykins” You hold your phone out and smile at him. He’s on his bed, buried in his squishmallows with a plate of nachos.

“Hey, bunny. So honestly you did not have the reaction I thought you would and I realized that cornering you like this is definitely the answer.”

You roll your eyes and crumple into the fluffy throw pillows behind you, slapping a hand over your face.

“Evan…”

“Eddie is the hottest guy I know and for you to be having zero reaction is wild”

“How do you know I was having zero reactions?”

“Because the last time we saw a hot guy together we literally had to calm each other down in the car and you had to stop me from going to get his number for us. So. Make with the reactions.”

“Okay fine!” You hiss under your breath, flapping your hands. “Okay!! Okay yeah, he’s- he’s???”

“Drop dead gorgeous.”

“That’s an understatement!! That’s the under-iest understatement! He bent over Buck, He bent over and I nearly had a heart attack. A heart attack!!”

He knows when you start repeating yourself you’re flustered. Like beyond flustered and suddenly his fingers are flying across the keyboard now as he listens to you ranting about how you could bounce a quarter off that ass or take a big ole bite out of it.

You’re just getting into detail about the exact way you’d convince him to let you peg him when your head snaps up to the sound of the bedroom door opening.

“I gotta go!” You whisper and Buck also scrambles to hang up. He blows you a kiss and promises to call you later and you giggle and hang up.

“Hey was that Buck?”

Eddie looks like a slut. Okay, that wasn’t nice but god did he look like a slut. You firmly believed men should never have stopped wearing crop tops. Like, ever.

His shirt stops mid-torso and you’re practically drooling. His sweatpants hang low on his waist, his slutty slutty little waist.

“Do you wanna take a picture?” He flexes his arms playfully and you hold your camera up, just spamming the button.

His head tips back when he laughs at the sound of the shutter and you keep going. Buck is going to eat these up.

“Anyway. Jesus, how many did you even take?” He comes over and takes your phone, scrolling through the camera roll to like 50 pictures of him standing there. He rolls his eyes, typing a couple of things, and then hands it back.

“You’re ridiculous” He tilts your chin up, kissing your forehead before letting you go and walking into the kitchen.

“Are you hungry? I was gonna make myself like a sandwich or something”

“A sandwich sounds fine!”

You fall back on the couch, kicking your legs and starting a new album to share with Buck, who immediately starts blowing up your phone and adding his own pictures to your new Eddie album.

Eddie smirks at your badly concealed squeal and tosses some cheese down. He’s squeezing chipotle sauce on the top bread when a loud bang startles him and he turns toward the living room.

“Uhhh Y/N?”

“….Yeah?”

“You uh- you good there?” He sets the bottle down and puts on the top pieces of bread.

“Yeahhh…”

“Okay…” his voice trails off and he grabs two sodas from the fridge “You want some chips?”

“Sure sounds great!”

“Uh-huh. Are you off the floor yet so I can come in? Or do you need a minute?”

“….I need a minute.”

Eddie is relentless with roasting your ass for rolling off the couch. He can’t help himself when he comes into the living room with the food and sees you sitting nicely on the couch with your hands in your lap. You have to get up and snatch the plates from his hands before he drops them.

He falls onto the couch still snickering and you slap at his thighs trying to get him to just shut up it wasn’t that freaking funny! Your cheeks are so pink with the embarrassment seeping through your pores and he tries his best to reign it in but you’re so cute when you’re like this and he eventually reaches out and pulls you into him.

“Awww I’m sorry okay okay I’ll stop I swear I’m done”

His chest is hard against your cheek, you can hear his heart beating under your ear, and his shallow pants from laughing so hard.

His bare skin is hot against yours, it’s smooth and even and sends shivers up your spine. He purposely arranges you so you’re pressed flat against him. He spreads his legs like the slut he is and you’re the one settling between them.

“Comfy?”

Oh, you just wanna slap that stupid grin off his face. Especially when his hands slide down over your side and splay flat across your back. He not so freaking subtly pushes you down against him, and you gasp, feeling the outline of his cock pressed into you.

“You ready to eat?” His hands slide further down your hips and rest on your ass, he ruts you against him and you shoot up from the couch and scramble off of him.

“Yup! Yeah! Uh huh sure.” You opt to sit on the floor and hand him his plate. You pop open the bag of Doritos and position them in the middle of the two of you and Eddie opens your sodas.

“Anything you wanna watch?” He’s still smiling when you look back to grab the remote from him and quickly turn back around.

“Uhhh sure I can look around…”

You turn on Jennifer’s body and in an almost hilarious turn of events Eddie doesn’t know whether to look at Megan Fox or you and you seem to be having the exact same problem, occasionally catching his eye and quickly turning away.

He convinced you to sit on the couch with him again and the one seat cushion between you two feels like seven thousand.

He’s been periodically texting Buck, who has been using this time to help come up with a ✨Super Secret Seduction✨ plan. Which starts with Eddie getting your ass back over to him.

He casually stretches out across the couch a bit, his leg draped on the couch next to you. He notices you take a peek before turning back to the movie and he grins.

He toys with the edge of the throw blanket slung over the couch and gets up.

“Hey, do you want a drink? Maybe some popcorn?”

“Uh- I’ll take a water if you have it. I don’t think I’ve drunk any today.”

He frowns because of course you freaking haven’t and shakes his head.

“Seventy-five waters coming up”

“Oh teehee,” you flick him off.

He goes into the kitchen, grabs a couple of waters from the fridge, and comes back in, but not before making a cute little stop at the thermostat.

He flops down on the couch and tosses you your bottle before turning his attention back to the movie.

“Can I use this?” Twenty minutes later you’re curled up tight in the corner of the couch. Eddie looks up at you for a second, just making out the dangerous silhouette of your body in the dark.

“Yeah… wait, here.” He pulls the blanket off the back of the couch and finally gets you to close the freaking gap between the two of you. He opens his arms and you easily come into them, settling into his side and he puts the blanket over the two of you. You’re too cold to think about the precarious position and he quickly plays the movie to distract from it even more.

Eddie's fingers trace over your arm, enjoying the soft skin. He draws little shapes and you snuggle deeper into him while watching the movie. You’re not sure when you take his other hand but suddenly it’s in yours and you’re cuddling and he’s so hard and warm and you’re so soft and cold and you fit together so nicely.

You can feel your heart racing in your chest as you start to pull away and sit up. He pauses the movie and the blanket falls from your shoulders. He looks at you, the movie screen highlighting the shadows on your face. He reaches out, cupping your cheek and rubbing his thumb over your cheekbone.

“You’re so pretty, you know that?”

Your cheeks immediately flush and suddenly he’s sitting closer to you. You can feel the heat from his body, and smell the minty scent of his toothpaste.

When did he brush his freaking teeth?

He smirks, coming so close to you that you start to lean back slowly away from him. He looks like a predator stalking his prey and it sends your pulse into orbit.

“I have a boyfriend…” You mutter, your breath catching in your throat and Eddie smirks, his eyes lazily trailing from your lips to your eyes.

“Yeah so do I”

“Oh!”

“Mhmm… But something tells me we’re talking about the same man…”

He leans in, his breath ghosting across your lips. He’s giving you a moment to pull away, a minute to maybe gather your thoughts. But he’s doing that thing he does, where he’s just so effortlessly Eddie and there’s not a single thought running through your brain.

When he sees you’re not moving away from him he finally leans in all the way. It’s a simple kiss, just kind of a test really. He slots his lips against yours, tangling his fingers in the back of your hair and pushing you just the littlest bit closer to him. He counts the seconds between him guiding you and when you actually finally get around to kissing him back, the shock finally wearing off.

Your arms wrap around his neck and he lays you back on the couch. Your hands are all over his chest, feeling him and his hands are feeling over your sides and you’re both just trying to feel as much of each other as possible.

He can’t get enough of you, he doesn’t want to stop, but he knows he has to. He and Buck made a plan and it’s going way faster than they expected it to. You taste so good, so sinfully good and he’s starting to wonder what else he could get away with tasting.

Eddie finally pulls away from you, panting harshly and trying to catch his breath before diving right back in when you finally break.

“O-oh, my god. I shouldn’t have just done that- no no no fuck. Shit.” You slide off the couch from under him trying to run from the living room and Eddie chases after you, grabbing your wrist.

“Wait wait wait” He pins you to the wall and you’re struggling against him, he can feel the panic flowing through you like it’s starting to transfer over to him.

“No! hell no!”

“Where are you even going?” He pins both your hands above your head and pulls his phone out. He holds it up to his ear, watching you trying to yank your wrists away and it crushes him.

“Hey! So- ow! Quit it!” Eddie uses his body to block your legs while you try to kick at him.

“Fuck just talk to your girlfriend! Please!” Eddie puts Buck on speaker and you stop.

“Buck?! I’m- I’m so sorry I-“

“Did you kiss Eddie?”

You swallow thickly and nod, unable to say anything and Eddie sighs into your shoulder as you start to melt against the wall in tears.

“Baby no- no it’s okay- fuck. Here.” He FaceTimes Eddie who passes you the phone. Buck’s face immediately crumples and he shakes his head, This was so not what they had planned and he’s starting to feel like this might have been a mistake.

“No please don’t cry no- this is not what we wanted! We just-“

“We?? Buck, what are you talking about?” You sniffle and wipe at your eyes and he sighs loudly. Eddie sits on the floor next to you, hesitantly scooting closer to you, your knees touch and the electric jolt that runs up your spine nearly makes you sick, sick from the way he makes you feel, from the way his cologne floods your senses the closer he gets.

It’s still sticking to your clothes.

“Y-you weren’t supposed to kiss him…yet” Buck admits shyly and you glare at the camera and Eddie sighs and leans back on his hands.

“So…we kinda planned this…” Eddie bites his lip “We thought that maybe… we could kinda convince you that uhhh… it might be you know a little fun if-“

“If you know the three of us kinda had a teeny tiny thing?” Buck finishes sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck.

“You weren’t supposed to kiss him this soon, actually, in all honesty, we were really hoping you would anyway. Kinda make things a little smoother.”

“We just uh- didn’t anticipate the whole freak-out thing,” Eddie adds and now you’re left with their confession and deciding what the hell to do with it.

“You mean the entire reason Eddie has been being a total slut today-“

“Hey!”

“Is because you wanted me to fall for him so that way the three of us could be a thing??”

“Well, when you put it like that” Buck scoffs and Eddie rolls his eyes.

“You guys realized you could have just asked me right?? Buck, you do realize you could have just asked me? Instead of trying to seduce me?!”

“Well?! Are you??” He gestures and your jaw drops

“Now you decide to ask?! Now?!!”

“We wanted to romance you! Honestly, Y/N we wanted to romance you and seduce you and get you into a little stupefied ball and then fuck you together.” Eddie just spills the entire plan now because there’s no point in holding it back anymore especially since you’re already upset with them.

“Only you know it was gonna have way more finesse! Plus I was supposed to be home… we had an entire plan and then I got sent here. This was supposed to take a couple of months where I would then bring it up” Buck explains further and you’re absolutely reeling. You give the phone to Eddie and get up from the floor, brushing your legs off.

“I think I need some time to… process”

“Y/N?” Buck and Eddie say, but you walk into the bedroom quietly and shut the door behind you

“So I think she’s mad at us” Buck sighs and Eddie’s head smacks against the wall behind him.

“Yeah. I think she’s mad at us.”

Two and a half hours later there’s a soft knock at the door. You sigh and roll over on your side, facing the door.

“Go away, Eddie”

It’s quiet for a second before he knocks again.

“Eddie please N-not. Not now” You sit up, looking at the door. It was nice that he didn’t just come in anyway considering it was his home and his bedroom.

He knocks again and you roll your eyes and slide off the bed.

“You know you’re almost as freaking pushy as-“

Your breath catches in your throat, Buck is standing in the doorway. He looks exhausted nervous and fidgety.

“Evan?” Your voice cracks and he rushes into the room, his hands cupping your face and pressing his lips to yours. He kisses you messily, desperately shoving all his feelings and emotions into it. You stumble backward and your back hits the wall. He’s got your shirt off so fast it gives you whiplash and eventually you’re working on the button on his jeans.

He kicks them to the side, the sound of his belt buckle sliding against the floor not breaking the spell that seems to have a hold on you now. He yanks your skirt down your hips and it joins his clothes in a heap in the corner of Eddie’s room.

He picks you up and brings you over to the bed. The way he drops you on the bed finally knocks some sense into you and your hands slam into his shoulders as he climbs onto you. His weight settles, comfortable and warm between your legs and you can feel the heaviness of his cock pressing into your thin panties.

“You could have just asked me.”

“Please don’t break up with me.” Buck whimpers and your elbows bend. His chest falls against yours and you let out a little “oof”

“Please, please, please don’t break up with me. I should have just come to you, but- but it was supposed to be over a long period of time! We wanted to take it easy with you and give you time to even consider it! But I know it was wrong”

“You wanted to romance me?” You raise an eyebrow with a little smirk and the deep pit of dread in Buck’s stomach lightens just a little bit.

“Our whole plan was for Eddie to start hitting on you, it would just be soft and subtle… and when he’d come over for you know dinners and movie nights he was supposed to sit close to you and put his arm around you…”

“Until eventually I caught feelings?” You scoffed lightly and he nodded

“Y-yeah? I knew you would. I know you better than you know yourself… I just- didn’t think you already had them? I’m not mad you do! Cause… clearly so do I…”

“So what? You want to date Eddie and me??”

“It doesn’t need to be like that if that’s not what you want… Eddie is perfectly content just being our friend and I’m okay with that too… is that what you want? For it to just be me and you?”

“This was a very very sneaky plan, Evan Buckley.” You scold him and he whines and literally just crushes you with his body.

“Please don’t break up with me.”

“And don’t hate me?” Eddie stands in the doorway and you sigh with a little smile and hold out your hand, inviting him in.

“You drove two hours to come see if I was okay?”

Eddie settles on his side on the bed, his fingers coming up to write lazy shapes against your skin.

“Uh- n-not exactly” Buck Stammers “See- I didn’t… drive here”

“You should see the mountain of sweets he brought home with him,” Eddie mumbles and you look up at Buck again.

“How did you get here?”

“I uhhh… called in a favor from my ex-boyfriend? I baked like a madman and then made him come get me real quick.”

“How many times is he going to steal that helicopter” Eddie mutters and you stare at Buck with wide eyes, your mouth pops open and he smirks, closing it with one finger.

“He wants to meet you sometime, and if you’re gonna be hanging with the team while I’m gone you probably will at some point…”

“We don’t like him anymore” Eddie whispers and you nod along, Buck rolls his eyes.

“Thank you both for your support… anyway. Yeah, things didn’t… really go as planned but they also kind of did? Because this was the outcome we wanted but you know in a good way not in the accidental shitty way we created”

Buck finally stops squishing you and lies to your side, mirroring Eddie’s relaxed stance and Eddie.

“Please don’t hate us”

“I don’t hate you… I just. This was stupid and admittedly I feel really guilty for kissing Eddie and-“

Buck reaches out and grabs Eddie’s shirt, yanking him almost against his chest while they both hover over you. He kisses Eddie, letting their tongues tangle for a moment before pulling away from him and pushing him back across the bed.

You stare between the two of them, not even attached to your body anymore and just floating around in the empty space in the room.

“Now we’re even” Buck shrugs. Oh boy if that’s all it took to take your guilt away…

“We’re even?” You repeat and he takes your hand, his lips ghosting over the back of it.

“Yup. Like I said-“

Eddie kisses the back of your other palm and your head bounces over to him now.

“It was our plan.”

Suddenly the fact that you and Buck are both very much almost fully naked comes back to mind.

Suddenly Eddie is wearing too many clothes.

You look over at him, your eyes softly lidded and he gets up from the bed, removing his shirt and letting it drop to the floor. Two pairs of eyes are glued to him as he hooks his thumbs in his waistband, running his thumbs along it before turning around and sliding them over his ass.

He turns back and he’s left in those stupid boxers that do absolutely nothing to hide the raging hard-on in his pants. God, he’s big, so, so big, and you and Buck are left drooling over him.

He turns around again and stares you in the eyes, giving you both the perfect view of his ass, and slowly slides his boxers down with a little wiggle of his hips.

“I’m like 90% sure I just came” Buck gulps and you nod along with him.

“Same.”

Eddie grins and slowly turns around for you, revealing his aching cock. It stands so thick and hard at attention, dripping precum onto the floor.

“Like what you see?”

Eddie climbs on the bed, slowly crawling toward you and you scramble backward, crashing into Buck’s chest. He laughs and wraps his arms around you, locking you in place.

“Let me go!” You squeak and Buck manhandles you into his lap properly, sticking you between his thick thighs.

“Why? When I could watch you be tortured?”

“You are such a cuck” You hiss as Eddie approaches and he snickers.

“Damn straight”

He holds you with one arm and takes your bra off, grinning wolfishly at the way your tits bounce. He lifts your hips enough for Eddie to slide off your panties, he looks at them, admiring the damp spot left there, and inhales deeply.

“Fuck you smell so good” He groans deeply and holds them up for Buck who sniffs them too.

“Good enough to eat”

“You’re both perverts!” You huff and Eddie rolls his eyes.

“And you talk too much”

He stuffs the panties in your mouth and you thrash in Buck’s arms again, tasting yourself with every shake of your head.

“Would you settle down already!” Buck shakes you lightly and you whimper and push yourself against his chest.

“There you go baby girl that’s it, just relax. Daddy’s gonna make you feel so good, I promise.”

Buck twitches against your back and you look up at him with your eyes narrowed.

“What?! You liked it too…” He mutters and you giggle around the panties in your mouth.

“Don’t worry, Daddy will make you feel good too” He pats Buck’s cheek and you snicker when you feel him melt against you.

Eddie instructs Buck to spread your legs over his and he does eagerly. Your heart pounds in your chest, your entire body open and on display for Eddie. He stares down at your pussy hungrily, his mouth-watering.

He leans forward on his hands and knees, settling down on his elbows, and nuzzles his nose between your lips. He brushes your clit and your hips jerk against his face involuntarily. He chuckles deeply at the blush on your cheeks and Buck’s hands slide over your torso and cup your breasts. He kneads the soft skin in his hands, bouncing them in your face and tugging at your nipples.

You’re so overwhelmed by the pain that turns into pleasure that you don’t notice the hitch in Buck’s breath. You don’t notice him tensing until suddenly he’s inside you, your head falls weakly back against his shoulder and Eddie grins, sliding Buck’s cock deeper inside you.

“Don’t you look so pretty with Buck’s cock inside you? Oh, you’re such a pretty little thing.”

You wriggle in Buck’s lap, your clit throbbing as you whine and grind your hips down on his cock. He gasps and thrusts his hips and you shudder, Eddie is a mess watching the two of you trying to be on your best behavior for him.

“Fuck this is better than I thought it would be”

He’s done talking and teasing now. He kisses your pussy with an open mouth kiss. He hums deeply against your clit, letting it vibrate through your hot core.

Eddie enjoys every noise he pulls from you. Your sweet little moans and whimpers, he could feel the way your fingers tangle almost desperately in his hair, holding him closer as he eats you out like his favorite meal.

He was so different from Buck, not that that was an issue in the least, but he just was. He was slow and methodical, categorizing each stroke of his tongue and what kinds of sounds he could get out of you. His favorite was the sound you and Buck made together when he sucked on the point where the two of you met with him buried deep inside you.

“W-what about you?” Buck whimpers and Eddie looks up into your eyes, watching them roll back in your head.

“You think you could handle a different position, pretty girl?”

He pulls the panties from your mouth and tosses them to the floor and reaches up for you. Buck helps maneuver you down so you’re lying across Eddie’s torso. He gets on his knees, sinking further inside you and you shudder, grinding your hips down.

You squeak, coming into contact with Eddie’s waiting mouth. He moans and grabs your hips, yanking you down harder.

“Come on baby girl, use me. Use my face for your pleasure.”

You roll your hips again, a little harder this time, and moan, letting your head fall forward. Your cheek brushes against his cock and you look at it, hard and glistening with precum. You reach out and slowly stroke it, just feeling him, hot and heavy in your hand.

“Go on” Buck encourages you “Fuck I wanna see you swallow his cock. Please, Bunny? Please?”

How could you say no to him begging like that?

You blow on the tip gently, the cool air making Eddie’s hips twitch. You smirk and lick a long, slow stripe up the center of his cock, softly kissing right before the tip and moan, rolling your hips more.

He lets out a low moan and you make out with the tip, kissing it sloppily and sucking it. The feel of your little pink tongue teasing his slit is almost too much and his hips jerk into your mouth.

You make a garbled-choking noise and struggle for a second, swallowing around his cock and he melts into your mouth. Now he’s rolling his hips with yours mimicking your moves and fucking your mouth.

You’re not sure who you’re more distracted by, Buck or Eddie but your eyes roll back in your head and Eddie holds you down harder and you’re sure you’re suffocating him and he does not fucking care, he would happily die between your legs.

Your body shudders and your hips start to lose their rhythm and Buck slams into you, shoving his cock in as far as he can and cums in you, he starts to fuck you faster chasing his high, and pulls away quickly.

You choke around Eddie’s cock again and dig your nails into his thighs, your entire body grinds against him as you cum on his lips. He lets out a guttural moan, licking up every last drop and messily kissing your pussy. Your thighs shake from the overstimulation and he smirks, grabbing your hips and suddenly rolling you over so he’s laying on top of you now, he fucks your face, shoving his cock down your throat as far as he can, and his balls cover your nose while your claws hook into his ass.

He keeps cleaning you up, licking all of your and Buck’s combined juices while he uses your face now. The sound of you choking and struggling to take him all sends him over the edge and he’s coming down your throat. He gasps raggedly, swearing and saying your name over and over like a prayer until he’s empty.

He falls over onto the bed, kissing your thigh and Buck leans over and tilts your head up, kissing your sore neck and cooing sweet praises before you pass out.

When you wake up, Buck is gone. Eddie has his arms wrapped tightly around your waist, his face nuzzled into your neck.

You blink sleepily, stretching out your arms and legs like a dog on its side, and relax. There’s a pink note on the pillow next to you and you reach for it, unfolding the heart origami with a giggle.

You hold the note to your chest and turn over in Eddie’s arms to lie on your back. He whines and buries his face deeper in your neck, throwing his arm over your torso.

“I’m not ready to wake up” His voice is so deep and gravelly in your ear it sends a shiver up your spine. You reach out and wrap your arms around his neck and he buries his face in your chest. His hand feels your side, gently kneading it. He places soft kisses across your chest and you smile, running your fingers through his hair.

“Good evening” You purr and he looks up at you, resting his chin on your chest.

Fuck he’s pretty like this.

“Good evening…How’re you feeling?” He rests his head on one of your breasts and your cheeks flush a bit.

“Fine…kinda sore not gonna lie. Geez you two put me through the wringer. What time is it anyway?”

“Like one or something. I wanted to be gentle… I wanted to take my time with you, show you how pretty I think you are.”

“Even if you weren’t treating me like a precious flower, I still felt really pretty and really really good”

Eddie listens to you, his eyes softly closing again with a contented little smile on his face. He reminds you a lot of a cat, especially when he’s practically purring while you’re massaging his scalp.

His soft moans are so freaking cute you don’t want to stop. You continue to rake your fingers through his hair and he sighs dreamily.

“You wanna go take a bath?” You ask quietly and he opens one eye

“A bath?”

“We have to clean up anyway… and I can shampoo your hair for you. I’ll even condition it afterward.”

“A bath it is”

It’s when he’s in the tub, lounging in your lap while you run the shampoo through his hair, Eddie realizes he’s embarrassingly touch-starved. And you realize that all the product he puts in his hair hides the soft waves that he has.

He leans back into you, enjoying your plush body up against his, and the relaxing warmth of the water surrounding him. It’s moments like these he could just float away when he can’t hear his head telling him he’s stupid to get involved with you and Buck and that it’ll just end in heartbreak.

It’s so easy to ignore those thoughts and listen to what his heart wants… what did his heart want? For sure for you to never stop touching him, to never take your magic hands away and leave him feeling cold and ill at ease.

But what about Buck? They’d made this entire plan sure, but what did he want from him? Maybe the same thing? Maybe this bath didn’t exactly feel quite complete with a third of his heart missing.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

You break the silence with your soft voice and Eddie is transported back to the bathroom. You’re washing his chest with a loofah and he realizes he has no idea when you rinsed his hair and moved on.

“I think I really like you and Buck. I think I want this” He admits, and something in him, deep down and buried away seems to just- leave. Suddenly he feels lighter and safer? Maybe? He doesn’t know but for the first time in a long time he’s being honest with himself and he’s okay.

“Wasn’t it supposed to be my decision? If I wanted this too? I thought you two had already worked this out.”

Your tone is lighthearted and so he decides that you’re being playful and he doesn’t allow that deep-seated panic to rear its ugly head.

“Okay well-“ He starts “Technically we did decide but… You know when you said you felt guilty? And Buck kissed me to make it even?”

You pour water over his chest “Yeah?”

“That was our first kiss”

You flinch and accidentally pour the water on his face and he splutters and sits up, running his hand down his face and flicking the water away.

“Jesus-“

“That was your first kiss?!”

“Uh yeah? We knew we wanted to be together too but we needed to know how you felt first… like I said. I was perfectly okay with us all still just being friends if you weren’t.”

“You mean to tell me-“ You put your hands out “that you and Buck had your first kiss right in front of my salad and you didn’t think, “Hey let’s tell Y/N so she can get the camera ready”?!”

Eddie stares at you for a minute before he bursts out laughing.

“Seriously?! After all of this, that’s your issue??”

“The two hottest men I know, who are my official boyfriend’s kiss for the first time and you think I didn’t want to savor that?!”

“Oh I’m so sorry, would you like me to make sure our next make-out session is on camera?” Eddie sasses you and you splash him

“With mood lighting!”

He reaches out and grabs your waist, pulling you into his lap.

“I promise next time I’ll film it for you, and we’ll make it extra hot just for you.” He nuzzles his nose against yours and you giggle, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Okay cool, I trust you”

“Good girl” He growls, cupping your face and kissing you and you lean into him, nipping at his bottom lip and getting him to open his mouth. He stares at you, his eyes wide open and you blink, your heart racing in your chest as you stare into his eyes.

He keeps his tongue tangled with yours, lapping at your mouth and your face heats up so quickly that you yank away from him and squeak.

“Eddie!!”

“Awwww you don’t like eye contact? Poor thing”

He doesn’t sound very apologetic and it makes you crinkle your nose at him and flick him off. He grins wickedly and captures your lips again, this time cupping the back of your head and keeping you right where he wants you.

“Oh, I’m going to enjoy you sleeping over so often.”

It’s been another month, and having to live two hours away from your brand-new boyfriend and sort of brand-new girlfriend is just about the worst form of torture there is probably.

Especially when they’ve taken to sending you videos.

All.

Day.

Long.

They were cute at first, adorable even! Eddie sent him videos of you doing a little happy dance over your enchiladas, one where you’re curled up tight and hiding behind a pillow when he made you watch a horror movie. His favorite is when you’ve got your head in his lap, and he’s gently stroking your hair while you sleep.

That’s where the cuteness ended.

Because this morning he woke up to three videos from Eddie, and he didn’t have time to open them before work so he just oh so innocently, opened them during his lunch break.

You’re splayed out on the bed, your back arched while Eddie slowly thrusts in and out of you. The sounds of his cock sliding in and out of your soaked pussy nearly has him cumming at the table.

Your soft moans break him out of the absolute trance your cunt has him in and he shrieks, his phone bouncing from hand to hand before clattering to the floor.

“Uhhh, you good Buckley?”

Jeremiah looks at him as he walks into the dining area, salad in hand.

“I’m fine!! Fine-fine-fine!” His voice cracks and he falls to his knees, reaching for his phone under the table. You’re moaning louder now, and he can just hear Eddie praising you, calling you a good little girl, and teasing your clit.

“Are- are you watching-“

“No!! No, it’s not! Fuck shit f-“ He smacks the phone with his hand, willing it to just shut up, and eventually gets the video turned off.

He shoots up straight as an arrow and puts his hands on his hips.

“I’m good”

You and Eddie receive a very long, very embarrassed text from him later that evening.

Buck walks into his stupid, cold, lonely apartment and throws his bag down. He sighs and crashes onto the fluffy couch with all the squishmallows he’d been moving around and slaps his hands onto his face.

Just a few more weeks and he’d be back home.

He didn’t like being alone like this, it gave him way too much time to think, and lowkey he didn’t mean for his mind to wander to the things it did but what could he do?

Because as much as he loved himself now and his friends and you, he was worried that like… maybe you guys would forget about him. Maybe you’d think hey we’re not really lacking anything in our lives with ole Buck gone!

And even if he knew that wasn’t true and that this was definitely just his insecurities screaming at him… it still really sucked.

“You’re such a baby? You really can’t be alone for more than a week huh?” Eddie scoffs and Bucks' eyes shoot open. Eddie is leaning against the wall, watching his little pity party on the couch.

“Eddie? Oh god. Oh my god, am I seeing you? Did I lose my mind?!” He whispers, his hands feeling his face.

“OOoOooOo I’m gonna haunt youuuu”

He deadpans and you pop out from behind Eddie.

“It’s me!! Y/N! As a human, not a ghost!!”

He throws his arms open and you tackle him backward onto the couch. He laughs loudly and squeezes you tightly, Eddie comes over and tilts his head up, kissing his nose and he smiles at him.

“How did you two even get in?!” He presses his lips to yours and you moan, attacking him back and running your fingers through his curls.

“You didn’t know your girlfriend could pick locks?” Eddie grabs you by the waist and tosses you onto the couch and you scream.

He pushes your head back when you try and tackle him and straddles Buck’s lap, that stops you cold for a minute and he smirks at you before cupping his cheeks and kissing him.

They hadn’t had much time together after that night and he was going to make up for it as much as he could in that moment. You fall back on your butt on the couch and Eddie winks at you.

“Might wanna get that camera out sweet girl”

“Wait why would she-“

Eddie cuts him off, pressing his lips against Buck’s. The sexual tension between them escalates to an overwhelming extent as their tongues clash. Eddie tilts his head, lifting his body a bit higher, and grinds down on Buck’s cock.

Buck whimpers into his mouth and grabs his hips, pulling him down against him harder as Eddie rolls his hips.

Your jaw drops and you fumble for your phone, leaning back on the couch armrest and filming your boys with wide eyes.

Eddie is a passionate man, because he’s also Hispanic and that doesn’t surprise you in the least. The way he holds Buck close to him, moaning into his mouth and occasionally muttering about how gorgeous he is… You can feel yourself dripping just watching them.

“I love you” Eddie blurts out, and Buck freezes for a second, smirking.

“I know”

Buck tugs at the hem of Eddie’s shirt and he smiles, easily pulling it over his head Buck gasps quietly, biting his lip as he takes in the soft expanse of his beautifully tan skin.

“Fuck you’re the second prettiest person I know” Buck mumbles and Eddie snorts.

“Who’s the first?”

“Genuinely hurt you’d ask him that” You scoff and Buck blows you a little kiss making Eddie laugh.

“You should take your shirt off” Eddie smirks at you resting his head against Bucks.

“Why would you tell her to do that?” Buck whines and you giggle and set your phone down

“I’ll do you one better” You take off your shirt, letting your bra come with it, and settle back in.

“Now let’s see how long he lasts” You purr, grabbing your phone again and Eddie turns back to a distressed-looking Buck.

“You gonna be our good boy baby? You gonna be able to control yourself?”

“When I thought about being with the two of you, none of that involved me being tortured like this!”

You look up from the camera “Wait really? Not one of those fantasies were Eddie and I working against you and admitting he loved you??”

“I’m pretty sure they were all of us working against him” Eddie mutters against the shell of his ear before kissing his neck. Buck melts into the couch with a pretty sigh and his grip on Eddie’s hips tightens.

“Yeah okay 73% of them was definitely this” He admits and you kick at his thigh with a laugh.

“We should take this to the bedroom” Eddie drags his tongue along the vein in his neck and Buck ruts against him.

“O-okay”

You shriek in delight as Buck stands up with Eddie in his arms and carries him toward the bedroom, they both laugh at you while you do a little shimmy because Jesus Christ you could just stare at them all day.

“You’re a mess” Buck laughs and tosses Eddie onto the bed and you shut the door, leaning against it.

“When I give you this video? You’re gonna be doing the exact same thing”

Buck watches you walk across the room and over to a tripod. You click on the ring light and he splutters, his mouth falling open.

“When?!”

“When we broke in” Eddie shrugs like it’s freaking nothing.

“We thought it would help ease those lonely nights” You giggle and turn on the first camera, positioning it toward the bed.

“We’ve already filmed the first part for you” You wink and Buck melts into the bed dramatically.

“And now we’re here to finish the movie” Eddie reaches out for him.

“If you’re comfortable with this. If not we can just get rid of this entire thing” You turn on the second freaking camera on the other side of the room and Buck is spinning.

“No-no! It’s okay! I’m sooo okay with this oh god. You two are serious about this.” Buck settles on top of Eddie, kissing his neck and Eddie slides his hands down his hard back, feeling his muscles and gripping his round ass.

“Of course we are… this is just a little something to help you get through being here without us… we can make a new one every time we come visit if you’re up for it.”

“And when you come back-“ You let your skirt drop and Bucks eyes go wide as saucers. The tiny thong you’re wearing doesn’t even fully cover you, he can see your slick glistening on your thighs.

“We can use my studio to make better quality videos”

“That okay with you?” Eddie reaches down and starts to unbutton Buck's jeans. You help him out of them before crawling onto the bed behind him. Your arms wrap around his torso, your hands splaying over his pecs.

“We just want you to be comfortable” You kiss his shoulder blades and he whimpers, grinding down on Eddie.

“J-just- Jesus fuck just tell me what to do. I’ll do anything”

“That’s my good boy, my sweet Evan.” Eddie praises him and you giggle and slide your hands down, and take his cock in your hands. You stroke him slowly, running your other hand over his balls and squeezing them lightly.

“I told you he gives in easily when you’re pushing the right buttons.”

He can’t even be mad at that because you’re so painfully right he can’t even be embarrassed about it. He tilts his head back, letting out a low moan when Eddie circles his cock around Buck’s puckered hole, just teasing him while you work his cock in your hands.

He leans over, planting his hands on Eddie’s chest and panting. He ruts into your hands and you bite your lip and take one hand away and grab Eddie’s cock now, stroking the impressive length in time with Buck’s.

“You think you can take him?” You ask quietly and Buck nods eagerly

“I can do it, I’ve- I’ve been uh-“

“Oh we know” You whisper “You still have it stuck to your shower wall you know”

His cheeks flush a deep pink and he buries his face in Eddie’s neck with a shy whimper.

“Oh come on!”

“I swear I’d only gone in there to pee!!” You laugh and take Eddie’s cock, stroking it again before patting Buck’s ass.

“Turn around baby, I want you inside me at the same time.”

A shiver goes through his body and he shudders, turning around like you asked him and looking up at you for a second. You smirk and pull him closer to you, rubbing your tits against his face.

“Fuck you’re such a little bitch” Eddie pants, running his hands over his hard ass and smacking it. Buck yelps and he does it again, enjoying the way it jiggles.

“Good boy Evan… now go on, show Y/N how hard you are for her.”

“I’m so glad you didn’t just say mommy” Buck snickers and it makes you snort with him.

“I would have busted before we even got started.”

He helps you lie down, dipping his head down to lap at the mess between your thighs, cleaning you up sloppily and leaving your legs shaking.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

Buck kisses up your body, enjoying the salty taste of your skin, and the heady scent of your perfume. Eddie positions himself behind Buck and drags his cock between his cheeks one last time before lining up with his hole.

“You ready?” He asks both of you and Buck copies Eddie, dragging his cock between your folds and coating it in your juices before lining himself up with your dripping pussy.

“I’m so ready” He purrs and you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him flush against your chest.

“Ready,” you say and suddenly Eddie is slamming into Buck which makes him slam into you even harder and you all moan loudly together.

“Jesus Christ you’re so tight” Eddie stumbles forward a little, pushing deeper into Buck who pushes deeper into you and your legs come up, locking around his waist with a soft keening noise.

Eddie grabs Buck’s hips, gripping them tightly and pulling him back onto his cock. Buck whimpers in your ear, placing wet kisses along your jaw and down your neck and you lift your hips meeting each of their thrusts.

There’s almost too much going on for you to really focus on so you’re left in a dazed little heap with both men over you and they can practically see the little heart’s radiating in your eyes.

“Fuck you look so pretty” Buck coos, kissing the valley between your breasts “Look at you pretty baby, you like it when we fuck you stupid? You want me to cum in you? Would that make you happy?”

Your blatant incoherence drives Eddie wild, nothing but soft moans and little mewls come from you and the more condescending Buck sounds the harder Eddie thrusts into him and soon you’re all moaning and he doesn’t know how much longer he’s going to last.

How much longer any of you are going to last.

“Such a pretty little cocksleeve” They sloppily make out and it sends Eddie over the edge. He groans loudly, pounding into Buck and shoving his cock in as deep as he can go. You shriek under them both, your back arching high into Buck’s body and now you’re cumming with Eddie.

Buck loses all sanity the second he feels Eddie shooting his cum deep inside his tight ass and your pussy gripping him like a vice, milking him for all he’s worth. He knows he’s gonna get a noise complaint from his neighbors, these walls aren’t too terribly thick.

Eddie kisses the scratches you’ve left on Buck’s shoulder blades before pulling out.

“Ohh my god” you whimper breathlessly feeling Eddie’s cum sliding from Buck’s hole and dripping down to your pussy. You feel it mixing with Buck’s cum sliding down onto the bed and you cum again, your body writhing against Buck’s.

Eddie falls onto the bed next to the both of you, panting and reaching out for you. Buck falls away and you drag yourself into Eddie’s arms.

“I feel like I say this too much. But I don’t think I can feel my dick.”

You giggle into Eddie’s shoulder and Buck wraps his arms around your waist, snuggling with you.

“He’s not wrong” Eddie runs a hand over his face “Fuck I need an ice cream cone”

“I thought it was supposed to be a cigarette?” Buck snickers

“Literally none of us smoke” You flick his hand and he takes yours, kissing the back of it dramatically.

“But…yeah I could go for ice cream.”

“So we’re getting ice cream? That’s the plan?” Buck takes his phone from the bedside table and starts looking for places and you turn around toward Eddie now, pushing your ass back against him and he smirks and holds your hips

“I’m kinda hungry too”

“Okay, so burgers?” He taps on his phone screen and Eddie nods

“Burgers. Did you want to go out or should we go get it and bring it home?”

“Bring it home” You pout “There’s no way I’m getting out of bed for at least three hours”

“I’ll keep that in mind too” Eddie smirks and kisses your nose “Love you pretty girl” He mumurs against your lips and your eyes widen.

“I love you too” You whisper back, You reach for Buck’s hand, pulling it to your lips.

Buck fake sniffles, wiping little crocodile tears.

“I love you too bros”

“I can’t believe you’re making me watch this”

Once they come back with the food Buck brings you into the living room wrapped up in a blanket. He sets you up with a little tray of your food and surrounds you with another fluffy blanket and three of his squishmallows.

They’d gone to your favorite diner and Eddie had to fight you not to ruin your appetite and have dinner before dessert. If the burgers weren’t so good you would have crawled over to the freezer yourself and gotten it out anyways.

Buck was very much for watching you crawl on your hands and knees.

Eddie sits next to you, getting comfy and handing you the remote and you scroll through Hulu while you wait for Buck to get his stuff together.

“You know what you should put on?” He comes into the living room with his food and plops down next to you.

“Already looking”

You wriggle excitedly and press play and Buck pops a fry in his mouth.

“Are you shitting me” Eddie watches the opening to Dirty Dancing playing and you and Buck both laugh at him.

“It’s our favorite!!” You squeal and Buck reaches over and gives him a fry for payment.

“She carries a watermelon!”

Eddie pretends for all of 20 minutes that he can’t stand that you’re both making him watch this movie. He acts like his feet aren’t tapping to the beat and like he doesn’t enjoy you and Buck mouthing almost every single freaking line.

Eventually, he’s got a pillow in his lap and he’s studying the screen intently.

“Oh god she cannot dance” Eddie cringes and you and Buck give each other a look. He’s totally hooked.

“Does Penny die?”

“We’re not telling you” Buck sips his drink.

“Wait- so?? Robbie’s an asshole?”

“Oh definitely!” You lay your head on his shoulder.

“….Does Penny die?”

“We’re not telling you! Quit asking!” Buck reaches over and shoves him away and Eddie shoves him back.

Eddie won’t admit his favorite part was when they’re dancing together and how their relationship changes during it, how he bites his lip thinking about having you pressed into his body like that because lord knows you dance better… How it reminds him of how much your relationship has changed.

By the end of the movie, Buck has spilled the beans on Eddie’s dancing background and now he and Buck are preparing to do the lift.

“If you don’t catch me I will actually kill you” Buck warns him, his back against the front door.

Eddie looks around at the space they’ve cleared and shrugs.

“If I don’t catch you you’ll be dead. Now shut up and run.”

Buck has to fight the urge to Naruto run, and jumps into Eddie’s arms.

You’re screaming, Buck is screaming and Eddie is spinning him around.

“Tell me you’re getting all of this” He yells, his arms out like he’s flying and you’re absolutely losing it while holding up the camera.

“This is the coolest thing ever!!!”

Eddie sets Buck down and he immediately collapses to the floor.

“That was the single greatest experience of my entire life.”

You go to sit on him and Eddie grabs your hand, spinning you away from him and pointing you toward the front door.

“Your turn Baby”

After both Buck and Eddie finally coax you into doing the freaking lift and Buck was right it was the greatest experience of your life Eddie forces you all into bed. Because it’s almost two in the morning and you two planned a surprise day with Buck.

Buck crawls into bed and lies out like a starfish, waiting for you and Eddie to come into the bedroom.

He couldn’t have dreamed of a better way to come home from work, than getting his brains fucked out. He can’t wait for this kind of thing to happen on the regular.

Sometimes Buck thought about the beginning of the three of you being together. He should have just asked you outright, he still apologized whenever he thought about it…. But now you three were here and in this moment together and he knew it was love.

The best part was knowing you two felt the same way.

Just as soon as he’s home he’s forcing you to move in with him so he can pin you to the bed and take you whenever he wants. Come to think of it… Eddie’s house place had more space…

“Penny for your thoughts?” Eddie’s got you on his back, he carries you over to the bed and dumps you onto the bed in a little pile. You giggle and set your stuff up on the nightstand while he walks around to the other side.

“Only a few more weeks” He smiles brightly, looking at you and then at Eddie and you smile softly, The love and adoration pouring from his soul makes your heart skip a beat.  

Eddie hits the lights and you snuggle into his side putting your head on one half of his chest and draping your arm across his torso. Eddie gets into the same position and you reach out, tangling your fingers in his hair.

Buck sighs softly, looking at the two people he loves the most in this world… if you guys were so dead set on visiting every chance you got maybe this wouldn’t be so bad.

“I promise.” 

[windblumewishes]

Hi, I don’t mean to come across as rude, more a genuine question. I’m very sorry if the wording is off here. But why are people so staunchly against posting the animations and stuff? I’ve just seen posts from other side too and I’m a bit stuck in the middle since I see their points.

I get there was a message saying not to, but it’s not a spoiling any content that hasn’t already been in the game for a long time and it’s not like twst is an indie game

Hello, Dearie!

While TWST isn’t an indie game that has heavy restrictions for players like not being able to post the story itself or even share game art it is still a game that has rules and regulations that the devs have set for the players to follow.

I understand why you would feel like this is strange as they have talked about overblots in the story many times but please understand that this is mainly something that they have never done before and is basically like an experiment of sorts with the fanbase. The reception has been astronomically positive for this update to the story and while the vast majority is respecting the developer’s wishes to keep this content off public platforms until a specified date it goes without saying that this experiment of sorts may very well determine whether or not we get more animation sequences in the story or events in the future.

If players actively break the rules and ignore warnings the developers will eventually notice and make the decision to cancel any future projects of animation sequences in the game’s future development. All because people thought it would be funny to ruin the experience for everyone.

This also serves as a chance for players to go and see the scenes themselves without the aid of others to scrape it from the story and distribute the content. If you want to experience the game yourself I will provide a detailed guide as to how:

iOS Devices:

For iOS devices you will need to do one of two things. You will need either a new Apple ID account specifically set for Japan or to switch your country/region inside the physical App Store itself.

Switch your existing Apple ID:

Open the Settings app on your iOS device.

Tap on your name, then tap "Media & Purchases".

Tap "View Account" and sign in if prompted.

Tap "Country/Region" and select Japan.

Review the terms and conditions and tap "Agree".

You'll need to enter a valid Japanese payment method and billing address, or select "None" if downloading free apps.

New Apple ID

Go to Apple and create new account.

Select “Japan” for country/region.

Enter your regular phone number for the required number. Does not matter if the phone number is for the US, any number works.

Enter in all necessary information and check to see if you missed anything for identification.

When it comes to enter your “address” simply make one up! Many of us use a hotel address and it works.

WRITE DOWN ALL LOG IN INFORMATION SO YOU NEVER FORGET IT!!

For Google Devices:

Go to QooApp and look for Twisted Wonderland, specifically JP TWST and play from there.

I genuinely hope you realize the fandom is not trying to be a bunch of gatekeepers and bullies saying “don’t post” because the devs asked us not to post. They never ask anything of us unless absolutely necessary, this is one of those extremely rare cases where the devs and Yana have stepped up to say no posting- that is HUGE. This isn’t a case of “well the story is nothing new, why can’t we share because it’s the same old thing?” it’s something big and the devs are giving you a chance to try it out by downloading and playing it through.

Also, even if you have to wait until August 1st it’s not the end of the world here, you can wait. If you had to wait to play the Diasomnia Chapter on EN you can wait for the animations. Truly, it’s not that difficult to follow the rules and do as the devs ask of us.

- Windblume

[starlightkwan]

the best combination- Zayne Li

in which you try to come up with a nickname for Zayne.

fluff, word count: 700

warnings: none (pls lmk if you spot any!)

notes: i think i got LiLi from chinese players and it's what i call him it just fits him sm, domestic life, reader goes on about frogs, Zayne being a cutie as always

“Zayne?” You look up at him, your head resting on his lap.

“Yes, my love?” He answers, gently raking his hands through your hair.

“Don’t you think that it’s weird that I don’t have any nicknames for you but you have so many different ones for me? Like ‘my love’, ‘darling’ or ‘sweetheart?” You pout and Zayne chuckles, the gentle vibrations of his laughter finding his way to you.

“Not at all. I call you those nicknames purely because I want to express my love to you and I particularly enjoy your reactions whenever I call you by one of your nicknames when you least expect it.” He gently places his hand on your face, stroking your cheek ever so gently.

“I enjoy the feeling of being called one of those cute nicknames you give me, especially because you’re the only one that can call me by a romantic nickname. I want you to feel the same way too. It makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. Don’t you want me to give you some cute nicknames, Zayne?” You ask, battering your eyelashes at him.

“If you would like to call me a cute nickname, I would be happy to have one, my love.”

“Yay!” You get out of Zayne’s warm embrace and sit up on the couch and directly face him. “Let’s start with the basic ones. What about… baby?” He blushes. “That’s a strong competitor. What about honey?” Zayne goes wide- eyed. “Maybe not. Zaynie?” You are met with a strong head shake of a no.

“As cute as it sounds, you only use Zaynie whenever you need something or you tease me. It sets me into fight or flight mode and my heart rate goes unnecessarily high.” You nod, mentally removing it off the list.

“Zayzay?” You ask and immediately start laughing at how silly it sounds.

“Maybe not this one, my love. I appreciate the effort though.”

“Zayne Li. Zayne Li. Zayne Li.” You mutter under your breath, trying to figure out what could work. Zayne immediately gasps.

“Beloved. Please don't scare me like that. Whenever you say my full name like that, especially three times, I assume I have done something wrong. Like eating the last slice of pizza you saved in the fridge.” Zayne pouts, looking defeated.

“Oh no, I’m so sorry LiLi!” You exclaim, quickly giving him a quick kiss on the nose.

“LiLi? Did you just say LiLi?” Zayne asks, the tips of his ears going bright red.

“Yeah. Sorry, did you not like it?” You question, taking his hand in yours.

“No. Quite the opposite. I actually really liked it. It's very cute, it definitely has a nice ring to it.” You smile, swinging your joint hands together.

“Really? Do you like it, LiLi?” You grin, watching the way Zayne continues to get flustered, the blush on his ears slowly creeping down to the base of his neck.

“I guess LiLi likes it!” You cheer, clapping your hands at your amazing work. Zayne pulls up the sleeves of his pyjama shirt, trying to fan himself to keep his non-existent cool, completely forgetting he could just use his evol.

“It’s n-nice.” He stutters, and you smile, kissing his lips in satisfaction.

“I like it too! LiLi sounds like lily, which makes me think of the lily flower and I think of lily pads! You remind me of a lily pad!” You almost jump out of your seat.

“I remind you of a plant?” This lily pad does not look amused.

“Yeah, I’m like a hyperactive frog and you’re the lilypad! Think about it, LiLi.” You place your hands on his face, making sure that he makes eye contact with you. “Frogs rest above lily pads when they’re tired don’t they? They’re elegant too! So you’re the elegant lily pad and I’m the tired frog that relies on you for rest!” You ramble away, proud of your amazing connections that would put every high school English teacher into tears.

“Sure darling. Whatever you want.” Zayne gives in, pulling you into his embrace, listening to you animatedly chatter away about frogs and lily pads being the best combination in the animal world.

𐙚. ݁₊⋆❀˖° pls don’t be afraid to interact! likes, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated :) dms work too! if you have any feedback pls lmk! <3 enjoy the rest of your day/ night!

[sleepingdeath-light]

relationship hcs ; choso kamo

requested by ; anonymous (13/09/24)

fandom(s) ; jujutsu kaisen

fandom masterlist(s) ; here

character(s) ; choso kamo

outline ; “Can I request sfw dating headcanons for (Jujutsu Kaisen) Choso with gn s/o please?”

warning(s) ; none, just fluff!

choso may be pretty new to the whole ‘being a human’ thing, but that fact hasn’t stopped him from doing everything he can to be the best mentor, brother, friend, and boyfriend that he possibly can be — even if he can be a bit awkward and clumsy about how he approaches each of those roles sometimes

he resonates pretty strongly with all of the main love languages and makes frequent use of them all throughout your relationship — though he will lean more heavily into those that you tell him are more meaningful to you (because, in his mind, that’s what a good boyfriend ought to do)

acts of service — he lives to take care of his loved ones (you and his brothers) so it almost goes without saying that he goes out of his way to take care of you whenever he can… which usually just means him doing any and everything he can to protect you from harm (not because he doesn’t think you’re capable of keeping yourself safe, but just because he can’t bear the thought of you getting hurt in any way)

and if you return the favour by doting on him and his brothers — making sure they’re all eating by preparing extra helpings of food, checking them both over after missions to make sure they’re not brushing over any injuries, bringing them water after sparring sessions, offering a helping hand when either of them get sick, etc. — then choso will just fall even deeper in love with you and won’t quite know what to do with himself

gift giving — he brings things home from missions and trips with his brother that make him think of you — either because the object in question is explicitly related to something you’ve mentioned liking/that he’s noticed that you like, or because it just reminded him of you for some reason — and while this usually entails bought things (like jewellery or clothing or food or merch) this can sometimes mean him just picking up a pretty flower or a neat rock and bringing it back to you (usually with yuuji’s encouragement, because duh)

and for his own part he adores and keeps everything you gift to him for as long as possible (unless it’s something perishable, like flowers, or made to be consumed)

physical touch — he may not be accustomed to gentle touches and physical affection, having spent most of his life before you either wholly isolated or surrounded by violence, but once you introduce him to it he becomes almost addicted to it. he can’t get enough of your kisses, your hugs, the way you hold him like he’s something precious, and if you don’t stop him he could easily spend the whole day curled up in your arms, nuzzling your neck and basking in your affection without ever growing tired of it

quality time — it’s important for him that he gets to spend plenty of bonding time with all of his loved ones, both independently (e.g. going on dates with you and going to the cinema with yuuji) and all together (he just wants the most important people in his life to get along…) — though as his partner he does naturally tend to spend more alone time with you and is happy to go along with whatever you have planned. after all, as long as choso gets to be with you he couldn’t care less about what you’re actually doing

words of affirmation — he’s not the most talkative person on the planet but choso rarely ever minces his words and tends to say what he means, and that means whenever he compliments or praises you that he’s being completely genuine about it

… and, likewise, on the days where he’s feeling low or less-than it helps a great deal to have you there to soothe him and wash his worries away by assuring him that he’s loved, that he’s human, and that he’s a wonderful brother (yes, even if yuuji is annoyed with him right now)

aside from the lips, obviously, his favourite places to be kissed are his hands and his cheeks — and his favourite places to kiss you are your forehead and wrists

loves it when you play with his hair while you’re cuddling and will get all cute and pouty when you stop and/or start (lovingly) teasing him about it

thinks pet names like ‘sweetheart’ and ‘baby’ and ‘love’ are cute and endearing in their own way, but nothing melts his heart quite like you straight up calling him ‘boyfriend’ (or whatever title he has at the time, e.g. ‘fiancé’ or ‘husband’)

he goes to the other teachers — and even sometimes to the students — for relationship advice a lot during the earlier stages of your courtship and applies all of what he’s told to… well… varying degrees of success

he’s very vocal and open about his support for you in just about everything you do: he does his own research, listens intently to what you have to say, shows up for you physically and monetarily, and never misses the things that are important to you unless it’s literally a life or death situation (and even then he feels terrible)

his lockscreen is a picture of you and yuuji smiling after you both took his brother to see a rerun of his favourite film in the cinema, and his homescreen is a photo of you and him on a date from super early in your relationship that you took and sent to him (and that he’s had as his homescreen ever since)

hates hearing you talk negatively about yourself and will do whatever he can to help you see yourself as he does

frets so much when you’re sent on missions without him (if you’re a sorcerer) and always tries to be the first one to check in one you when you get back — or, failing that, he’ll send in his brother on his behalf just to make sure you’re alright

[nthspecialll]

Sorry if I'm a bit dumb but I did not understand what you meant by this in your last post:

"He (Dutch) is also the only person in the gang to have middle names, or in fact just more than a first and middle name. Even in something as simple as names, he has to have more than others."

Do you mean "Van" and "Der"? Because they are not middle names but part of the surname, which in Dutch means "from the lime/linden trees" and it is apparently quite a common surname among Dutch people. If Dutch's parents gave him the name "Dutch van der Linde", I don't really see how it can be used as an example of Dutch elevating himself over others. There are certainly other examples.

Sorry if I didn't read you correctly or misunderstood

Absolutely, let me explain myself a bit better and sorry for the bad well explaination.

Firstly, pardon the wrong uh... classification (?) of his name. What I merely meant with 'van der linde' is that it is more than two word, I suppose? Like none of the other characters have more than Mary-Beth's and hers is connected with the - whatever that line is called in english.

and secondly, lets talk about names and their meanings. Dutch having a very unique names compared to everyone else in practially the entire game is naturally something that the developers were highly aware of when naming their characters, and they were likely also aware of how important names are in terms of fitting in or excluding yourself from different groups.

Rains Fall has a lakota name, however does not use it when speaking to any english speakers because it often troubles them and it would further exclude him in their minds. Javier's name is pronounced wrong, which production wise was due to a mistake of Robs, but still in game Javier accepts that his name is mispronounced over and over and doesn't even make an attempt at correcting them.

Those might seem like very weak examples of trying to show how names can bind you to a group, but lets look at Colm. Colm is Irish or at least Irish American, he is running a gang of irish folk yet he deliberately mispronounces his own name over and over to fit the Americans. Now it sounds like such a small thing, but Irish folk during this time were discriminated against violently, like when job listings were made they literally said irish folk shouldn't apply.

Colm is Irish, his name is irish, he is running a gang of irish folk yet he goes out of his way to not sound irish. He does not want to be part of his gang consisting of a discriminated minority, he wants to lead them but not be part of them. He doesn't care about being an outlaw, he admits that he is, but he does not want to be irish, thus he changes the way his name is pronounced.

Now to relate that to Van Der Linde. Firstly, we don't know if his birth name is Dutch so there is that but, Van Der Linde by default has a very special name, one that catches attention, but it is also one that makes him stand out in contrast to his gang members.

Remember how I said Colm doesn't care about being an outlaw, he just doesn't want to be irish? Dutch doesn't want to be a criminal and a low life, despite the fact he is, it is the reason why he has a better tent, the reason he has better clothing, the reason he has all of these things that seem of higher class and seem more expensive. You can also see when he does want to try to fit in he will use names that don't stand out as much, like Archibald Smith, Hoagy Macintosh, Aiden O'Malley.

Embracing a name that makes him stand out, is absolutely not the most obvious way that Dutch deattches himself from the rest of the gang, however it is just a small detail that I found interesting. It is nothing major and might just be me reading too far into things, but it was a random thought I had and threw out there.