#wc: 520

[lgchyoseop]

flowers and dreams

"for you, i shall and will"

...

he waves at the camera, a smile on his lips. “ah, hello everybody! it’s type zero’s cha hyoseop’s birthday” he runs a hand through his hair, “this is my birthday livestream, so thanks for checking in”. he hums “i usually don’t really care for my birthday, but i won’t say no to a livestream for my fans” he shows a smile. “are you curious as to what i’ll be doing for my livestream?” he tilts his head a bit to the side. “if you know me, you know i have a great love for flowers, so i’ll be making three flower boxes today, i’ll of course chat with you along as i make the flowers”.

“well for our first flower box, i was thinking a summer theme, though fall might not be that far away”. “we of course can’t create a summer themed flower box without sunflowers, so that’ll be our first flower. sunflowers is a very fast-growing plant actually” he takes up some flowers, pulls them apart, “it only requires about a hundred days to be fully matured”. “ah, i guess you’ll have to get ready for a lot of random flower facts”. “second flower who is joining us for this flower box is cosmos, the flower symbolizes harmony”. “and a very important flower for this flower box is of course red roses, one of the most beautiful flowers out there”. “and very last, but still important, one of my favorite flowers: lily”. “for the name of this flower box? let’s go with ‘summer feelings’.

“for our second one, i’d like for theme to be romance”. “and for that theme, we already have two flowers we can re-use, roses and lilies are actually connected to romance, and some people would call them ‘romantic flowers’, the lilies are pink, and the roses red, so i feel like we should continue in those colours”. “i got some pink peonies with me today, which i think we should add to this one”. “i feel like these three flowers would suit this theme well, and i don’t think we actually need more flowers for this one”. “i have a great idea for a name, and it’s: the smell of romance”.

“the last theme might be the most exciting one, or at least some people would think…”. “the theme is my favourtie flowers! i like this theme very much” he lets a chuckle escape his lips. “we got lilies, which i forgot to tell a random fact about before, so you’ll get it now, they symbolize innocence and purity, which i feel is a bizarre thing something can symbolize, but oh well” he shrugs. “roses of course have to be on the list, they are the best smelling flower anyways”. “last but definitely most important is the aster flower, who is surprisingly enough a member of the sunflower family, even though i’d say they don’t look too familiar”. “and this one? let’s name it ‘cha’s dreams’”.

the cake then arrives, and hyoseop gives an awkward smile. “ah, thank you for the cake and song, i can’t remember when someone last sang me happy birthday”.

[bechaerin]

✦ * · ˚ LIME PROJECT GREEN. chaerin gets the chance to perform in front of senior artists and higher ups.

chaerin was a little nervous to say the least.

for some reason, she found this even more nerve-wracking than next gen. perhaps that was because she wasn't exactly the main focus on next gen. sure, she had to perform in front of judges and an audience, but she wasn't the one being evaluted.

this time, however, she would be.

of course, even now the focus would be more on the boys as it was their debut project. however, it was still an opportunity for her to really make an impact and hopefully remain in the minds of the higher ups for whenever they decide to create a girl group.

all in all, this was probably the biggest moment for her during the two years she's spent as a trainee. taking a deep breath, she tried her best to relax and just think of the performance. chaerin knew better than anybody else that trying to change things up for a big performance would only make things worse. she had to think of this as nothing more than any other performance she's done before.

it's not like she would be alone, either. she's spent a lot of time practicing with the others, and she was pretty confident that they were all going to do a great job. once again, chaerin reminded herself that she was simply here to add something to the performance and make some sort of impression on the higher ups. outperforming the boys wasn't on her to do list, and she kept that in mind as she was practicing.

before she knew it, they were being called into the room to perform. taking one last breath, she hummed her parts to herself before stepping out to do her very best.

she doesn't participate in the beginning of duty free. it's almost like she's supposed to be a surprise when she steps out for her first part in the chorus. chaerin remembers to smile and put on her very best expression because this is supposed to be a rather free performance, just like the name of the song.

the performance goes pretty smoothly in her opinion. chaerin likes to think she's pulled off all the little tidbits she worked on with the others, making sure that they really looked like one group. the adlibs at the end, especially, were something she focused a lot on, and it seemed like the effort she put into her vocals over the last couple of the years as really pulled off.

the performance comes to an end rather quickly, and she makes sure to stay in the last ending pose for a couple of seconds. looking around, she snaps out of stage mode and gives a bow to the higher ups before being escorted back out as the others had another song to perform.

again, she's not sure how the senior artists and higher ups will evalute her, but for her first stage in front of so many important people, chaerin likes to think she did a good job. hopefully, this is only the beginning of her journey to really becoming a debuted idol.

[ickygojo]

jujutsu kaisen men as relatives.

wc: 520

( # ) SYNOPSIS: uncle!gojo, cousin!geto, stepdad!toji, uncle!sukuna, brother!yuuji & eighteen plus female reader.

( # ) CONTENT: dead dove / mdni. incest & stepcest, mentions of alcohol & marijüana use for gojo, geto & sukuna. somewhat drugging & dub con (i think) for geto. undērage drinking, still over eighteen. panty stealing and peeping toms. mentions of infidelity & daddy kink for toji.

( # ) GOJO SATORU ;

is the bubbly, rich uncle, always giving you what you want. daddy said you can’t have a vibrator? well guess what uncle gojo got you? always taking you out shopping and out to eat, buying you pretty clothes and dressing you up. sending you money to buy lingerie while telling you to “send photos” when you tried them on, only for him to shower you with compliments afterwards. spending the summer at his mansion is almost like a fever dream. there’s a lot of fucking and sleeping and drinking and god forbid if your mother knew what you were doing with her brother, she would end you both. you know it’s wrong, but you love the attention anyways.

( # ) GETO SUGURU ;

is the stoner cousin, always inviting you over to his basement to hang out, play pool and smoke you silly. he enjoys blowing smoke in your face and pressures you to get so high that you literally cannot stand on your own. he would have to help you sit down, only to place you on his lap, and grope you beneath your clothes; just to hear your pretty whimpers and begs for him to stop, telling him it’s wrong and he knows it. he breaks you down, kissing and licking at your neck; and afterwards he fucks you on the pool table, legs propped up on his shoulders with a blunt still hanging from his lips, while you’re babbling incoherent sentences.

( # ) TOJI FUSHIGURO ;

of course is the step father, married to your lovely mother, preying on you and your young body. he’s a little creepy, and vulgar but you’d be lying if you said your panties weren’t wet because of it. stealing looks at you while you’re changing, stealing your dirty panties for him to huff later with his hand wrapped around his cock. it even went as far as sneaking around while your mother was gone; or hell, even when she’s home, toji pulling a quickie, making you cum all over his fingers, mewling “daddy” like the good girl you are the whole time.

( # ) SUKUNA RYOMEN ;

is the weird and scary, criminal uncle that you’ve somehow always had the hots for, like that one villain in the movie. he’s hardly ever been around, making it easy for you to have a crush on, despite the fact that he’s you’re uncle. you swear to god he’s flirting with you at every single family gathering, offering you alcohol even though you’re still too young, saying he was “the cool uncle” only to get you drunk and find an empty bedroom to fuck your sweet drunk guts out in.

( # ) YUUJI ITADORI ;

is the older brother. sweet, kind and caring on the surface, but really a sick pervert on the inside; peeking through the cracks of your door while you’re changing or showering. sneaking into your room, watching you sleep, taking pictures of your pussy and even jerking off over your sleeping body.. at some point, you know he’s doing this but you like it so you pretend to be asleep until he busts all over your clothed pussy, confiscating your panties as his own trophy.

[nonushu]

you vs. cat - chwe hansol

genre: fluff | wc: 520 | warnings: allergies | bf!vernon x reader a/n: my cat's name is jeolmi. i also found out recently that vernon (cat lover) is allergic to cats !

“vernon, are you crying?”

his brown teary eyes look up at you, still petting your cat on the floor. 

“no?” he sniffles. 

the disapproving look on your face scared no one, not even vernon. no matter how many times you tell him, he never listens, he just has to pet your cat, jeolmi. 

“babe, your eyes are kinda red,” you try reasoning. “y’know, you shouldn’t stay around her for too long, ‘cause your allergies…”

“m’fine,” he says, turning away from you to put his full attention on your cat. “plus, i can handle it.” he coos. 

the feline follows his touch, urging him to keep petting. as much as you thought it was cute and all—vernon babying your cat and somewhat ignoring you—you wonder how long he can even manage to withstand his allergies. sure, they weren’t too bad to begin with, and you know it’d be the least of his worries if it meant being able to play with jeolmi. 

“you’re so cute, mimi,” he says, cupping the cat’s face, causing yours to scrunch.

you sigh and move away from the kitchen island to the living room where vernon and jeolmi sit. even though he hears you, he doesn’t turn around to see you, which makes you pout. once behind him, you grab his hair, lightly pulling his head back so he can look up at you. 

“hey,” you grumble. “i know jeolmi is so cute and you like her and she likes you, but—”

“but what?” he says playfully while jeolmi uses her paws to place on his chest.

jeolmi makes a noise as if she is trying to get vernon’s attention back on her. you whine at this when vernon brings his head back down to make more cooing noises at her. 

you let yourself fall behind his back, wrapping your arms around his waist. you don’t see his face, but he’s smirking because he’s knowingly trying to tease you. 

“but what, babe?”

your lips pursed. “but i’m here too,” you whine again, pushing your face into his back. “and i’m cute too…” you muffle in the fabric. 

vernon lets go of jeolmi, leaving her to continue her daily routine. he turns his body with your arms still around his waist making you fall into his lap. his hands meet your waist and he pulls you closer in his embrace, giving you the same treatment as he did with jeolmi. 

“y/n, are you jealous?” he asks, hearing the dorky grin in his voice. 

you don’t answer him but your arms tightening around him tells him everything he needs to know. 

“i only love you,” he grins, that stupid dorky grin you can still hear. “just saying.”

“you mean i’m the only human you love,” you mumble. “you love my cat more than me.”

vernon snorts and you feel his stomach huff. he chuckles uncontrollably, making you sit up and stare at him in disbelief. scoffing, you turn to crawl away but he quickly hugs you again. you feel his breath come closer to your ear.

“you’re the only one i love,” he whispers, hugging you tighter.

[tulip-room]

sickness and ginger - tsukishima kei || wc: 520 || genre: fluff || masterlist || warnings: sick reader, ooc tsukki bcs idc <3 everyone gets soft treatment when I write them <3

syn. y/n gets sick on valentine's day and tsukki is actually nice about it

she can’t believe she got sick on valentine’s day of all days. to make matters worse, kei had away game today so here she was cursing whoever decided to play this sick joke on her. of course kei had teased her relentlessly for getting sick which only served to make the experience worse because her mind felt too weighed down to even begin to respond. she tries to keep her eyes open to watch the match but they fall closed before she’s aware of it. 

when she opens them again she’s met with the smell of ginger and thinks she must still be dreaming. “sickie, i have tea for you.” tsukishima pushes the door open and leans against the doorframe for a moment. “i know, oh what are you doing here?” he rolls his eyes and mocks what he thinks she’s thinking. the moment he gets close enough her arms wrap around him and he can’t help but let himself relax a little bit as the glass hits the table with a dull clink. “hi, i made you tea.” 

“i see, i’m sad those glasses aren’t helping your eyesight.” he pinches the bridge of her nose lightly in retort and sits down on the bed with her. “i missed you.”

“i missed you too, now drink the tea and you’re not kissing me. i refuse to get sick.” 

“okay,” this is all she needed. she was already beginning to feel better, the warmth of the tea glided down her throat and soothed the sharp pain and tsukishima for all his fuss was actually nice to lay on. the cold leaving her body as she was wrapped in a multitude of blankets and her boyfriend. “thank you.”

“don’t thank me, just get better. i hate you being sick. now what do you want to do?” 

“i’m partial to just laying here” so they lay there with the gentle humming of the heater filling the house, the occasional rustle of the blankets and the warmth of tea. for a moment she believed being sick wasn’t that bad. if she got to spend it like this maybe the sore throat and runny nose was worth it. then she coughed and realized. no, being sick really sucks. soft tsukishima is just a  plus of that. she put of her homework and the thought of having to do it when she got better made her groan. 

“i know what you’re thinking, stop it. i can help you with your homework when you feel better. until then just…rest.” she can feel the hum of his voice as her head rests on his chest. the steady rhythm of his breathing and heart ends up lulling her back to sleep. “idiot, getting sick.” he kisses her forehead and sets the tea to the side. it’s going to be a hassle to clean up but that’s okay, he’ll make as many mugs of ginger tea that she’ll only drink half of as she wants. it’s all for her and he wouldn’t have it any other way. the best way to get rid of sickness is ginger tea and love.

asha, ths is for you <33 I know it's not valentine's for most of the moots anymore but I hope you still appreciate this darling <33 also sorry with how late it is I was so busy today T^T ennjoy the gift and I hope you had a wonderful valentine's day. I love you so much and I'm so happy you're my friend <3

if you guys want to see the other stuff I'm writing today you can find that here <3

taglist (gen fil out this form to be added) @hiraethwa @hatsukeii @cherrysurf @cheriisae @darthferbert @localgaytrainwreck @lale-txt @szyvrue @wyrcan

[gyuwrites]

❝SWEET MOMENTS❞⸝⸝ ꒰명호꒱

꒰ ft ꒱ minghao x gn!reader ⸝⸝ ꒰ genre ꒱ fluff, romance, a little teasing ⸝⸝ ꒰ cw ꒱ no warnings, just fluff ⸝�� ꒰ synopsis ꒱ a cozy café date with minghao turns into a sweet moment of laughter and warmth ⸝⸝ ꒰ ratings ꒱ sfw ⸝⸝ ꒰ wc ꒱ 520

ᯓ 𐙚 notes... macarons are delish, new theme, what do y'all think? I saw the canopy of blooming wisteria on Pinterest and had to immediately add it to my fics, too gorgeous not to.

ᯓ 𐙚 nets...@kflixnet @k-films @kstrucknet

ᯓ 𐙚 tags...@loserlvrss @bbangbies @bella-feed @wonkierideul @memorabxlia @forever-atiny

ᯓ 𐙚 reminder...please reblog, it helps plenty by sharing the post around tumblr. Just liking won't help and our post will be dead within a few hours and never seen again, liking only benefits you like a personal bookmark. Engaging in our creation means (reblogging + commenting) it truly motivates us to do more. If you like a further better explanation, please consider reading this

The tiny café was on a quiet street, its outdoor tables shaded by a canopy of blooming wisteria. You sat across from Minghao, the soft clink of your teacups filling the comfortable silence.

"love, you've been staring at the macaron for the past few minutes," he teased, lips curving into a playful smile. "it's too pretty to be eaten," you replied, holding the pastel-colored treat in your hand. "Just look at it! It's a work of art!"

Minghao leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand, admiring you. "I bet it tastes even better," you narrowed your eyes, eyeing him playfully. "You're just saying that because you want it," you pouted slightly, putting down the macaron.

"Maybe," his grin widened, the kind that made your heart feel warm. Laughing, you broke the macaron in half and placed a piece in his place. "Fine, but only because I'm such a generous person," he accepted the macaron with an exaggerated bow of gratitude before taking a bite.

"mmm, you're right. It's a masterpiece. Sweet like you too," you said, savoring the taste of the pastel macaron.

You rolled your eyes playfully, but a smile was plastered all over your face. The warmth of this cozy afternoon sun, the floral scent of the beautiful wisteria scattered everywhere, and the sound of minghao's soft giggles made everything feel perfect. It felt as if time had stopped at this exact moment, letting the two of you cherish this precious moment.

"I like this," he spoke again, his tone was softer this time as he held the mug, feeling the warmth seep into his palms, a quiet comfort against the cool air around him.

"Like what?"

“This,” he spoke gently, gesturing between the two of you as he gazed into the tea swirling in his mug, looking at his own reflection that was rippling softly on the surface of the tea. "Spending time with you. It feels...nice"

You glanced away, trying to hide the smile tugging at the corner of your lips. You could feel your cheeks getting warmer. He was right, it felt nice. No cameras shoving in your faces, no paparazzi tailing you or minghao, it's just the two of you, in this quiet café.

"you're surprisingly sweet today," you teased him with a light smile spread across your face. He leaned back in his chair, arms crossed with a teasing look in his eyes. "Don't get used to it. I have a reputation i need to maintain, you know," he replied, sticking his tongue out playfully.

You rolled your eyes, laughing. "Too late, then," you teased, finally taking a bite of your macaron. Minghao laughed, the sound was light and genuine. You stared at his face, you knew in front of you was the person you wish to spend your last days with. Your heart warmed at the sight of him, so carefree in front of you.

Time didn't matter to you at all, all that matters was him, sitting across you with a wide smile on his face. That right there, was something you wish to see everyday, him with a smile.

[fushiguruuzzzz]

wc 520 . mentions of drinking . mentions of throwing up

the moment sugawara koushi knew he loved you, he felt like he was going to throw up.

that is not to say that was your fault, though. there was not a breath of fresh air in his lungs, and he was sure the singular shot he’d taken (courtesy of the overly enthusiastic noya and hinata — he made a mental note to not let himself be persuaded next time) was taking its effect on him more strongly than he anticipated. the television static creeping in the edges of his mind did nothing to aid his composure, which was quickly diminishing as he caught the way you glowed beneath the dim, warm lights.

His chest rose and fell rapidly, nearly in time with the beat of the song, out of breath from hours spent yelling the lyrics to all the music you liked. he had memorized all of them beforehand, but he would not tell you that. he just loved the way your face brightened and your eyes lit up when you heard him sing along with you, and he feared that if you knew how carefully planned the manner was, the light would contort into something else. something more knowing.

looking back, he wonders how he only realized then. it was not at all normal, the way his hands felt alight as they ghosted over yours, lit into a flame fueled by the smallest traces of your being. how with every important moment came with the meeting of your gaze, how worn hands itched to reach out for you as you stood at his side; the longing for the gentle embrace of your palms anything but platonic.

there, on the muggy summer night surrounded by what would one day be ghosts of the past, you were more beautiful than ever. he was tipsy and you were dancing and he loved you, and he knew it now.

your fingers interlaced with his. “what’cha doing, suga? come dance,” you said, words stretched out like a sultry tune and followed by a hearty giggle.

usually, although a rhetorical question, he would answer you. but you cannot tell your best friend you love them when you have barely realized it yourself, and suga would never dare to profess such a thing to you in this setting. he would die before taking your hand and baring his soul to you in a place as sluggish as there. you deserved far more than that — he wanted to give you more than that. so, instead of telling you that his heart ached as his hands slipped to your waist, he dragged his tired body behind you and moved in sync with every breath you took. he watched you laugh and stumble and breathe light into the room around you, and he waited for the moment it would fill his lungs and take the place of oxygen, and he waited for the moment you would finally realize it. patience was a virtue that suga had no issue practicing, and he was certain he’d turn to dust slipping from your fingertips if it meant loving you when it was right.

gen taglist @sh0ot1ngst4r @azinniyaa @kashee-h @fiannee @bubybubsters @lizbix @adoresia @gumims @cinnamxnangel @aldebrana

take this while I work on thdla chapter three lawl

[homestylehughes]

husband sidney headcanons

pairing(s): sidney crosby x fem!reader

summary: sweet and sexy headcanons of sidney!

warning(s): sfw and nsfw!

wc: 520

an: hi loves!!! first time writing for the dilf of hockey himself sidney crosby. idk how it's taken me this long to write about him, but i'm not complaining!!! i saw a picture of him this morning and it makes me feral so i wrote about him!!! lmk if you guys want anymore sidney fics in the future, i'd be morreeeeeee than happy to write about him!!! i'm getting back into the groove of writing again, and after not writing for a week, made me realize how much i missed itttttt. like and reblog if you like! much love as always!!

happy reading <3

sfw:

husband!sidney: Sidney is the type of husband to wake you up with kisses all over your body, causing you to giggle as you wake up. Wrapping you up on the tightest hug ever, sinking into his warm body in the morning is your favorite way to wake up. 

husband!sidney: Sidney would be the type of person who would pick you up from the airport, holding a funny sign in his hands waiting for your arrival. The signs never fail to bring you to tears of laughter from how funny they were, it's the best thing to come home too. 

husband!sidney: You always try to stay up for Sidney when he gets back from long road trips, posting up on the couch with a book in one hand and a steaming cup of coffee in the other. You manage to stay awake for a while, before you feel your eyes start to close as your eyes dance across the pages of your book, falling asleep before you even know it. Sideny walks into your shared house, he softly smiles as he sees the living room dimly lit, seeing you sleepy peacefully on the couch he can't help but smile at you with love in his eyes. 

husband!sidney: Sidney is so good with children, seeing how he acts around your nieces and nephews and other children at hockey camps makes your baby fever increase by the second. 

husband!sidney: Sidney loves your baked goods, he's convinced that everything you make is heaven sent from God, but your baked goods? Those are his favorites. Anything from cupcakes, cookies, everything and anything. He gives a request of things he wants you to make for him, at least once a week, even baking things for the team and fundraising events. 

husband!sidney: Sidney loves surprising you with a new bouquet of flowers each week, always doing small things to remind you how much he loves you. 

nsfw: 

husband!sidney: Sidney loves to watch you fall apart from beneath him, the way your head drops back, how your mouth falls open as you gasp for air. The pants and moans are enough to make him come again. 

husband!sidney: Sidney has a huge breeding kink. He wants nothing more than to see you carrying his child. He loves stuffing you full of his come, holding it inside of you, just to make sure you get every drop. 

husband!sidney: Your favorite part about Sidney's body is his hands, especially when they’re wrapped around your throat. The way you gasp and moan out below him telling him to tighten his grip on your neck. 

husband!sidney: sidney is a big fan of car sex, he loves how easy it is to rile you up, then bend you over the back seat and fuck you until you forget your name. 

husband!sidney: He loves loves loves, whenever you ride his face. The way your thick thighs wrap around his head, moaning out above him as he devourers your wet cunt, eating it like a man that hasn't had water or food in days. 

[darkseidex]

helloo my dear!!! i wanted to send in a request if that’s allowed 🙈 — could you write a fic about being Austin best friend and he’s secretly always has had deep feelings for you and one day he finally reveals them? something super romantic and cuteee, with smut if possible (which you do very well) 😌🩷

Girl idk what came over me with this... Graphic sexual content — extremely detailed scenes of intimacy including penetration, oral sex (f receiving), face riding, and overstimulation. WC: 6K

Also requests are open y’all😭✋🏽

Solana Meyers was flawless, that much austin knew as soon as he’d set his eyes on her and her beauty- but that’d been in 2020, when he’d beenf ilming elvis, and he supposed he;d owed this all to Baz, the cunning genius had brought her in to play the living legend sister rosetta tharpe, and much like everything she did, it was pure perfection, the way her body moved to the music and the way her sultry voice curled around each syllable had austin at a loss of words it ouldn’t be the first time that it’d happened and it wouldn’t be the last. 

Baz would enlist her help with his vocals, and she’d hold his hand through it as hours turned into days spent in nothing but each others companany, his blue eyes gazing at every inch of ebony exposed for his eyes to feast on in the crop top and baggy sweats she wore that sat low on her hips, giving him a peak at the white lace- an imagine he’d burn into his brain. But granted, at the time he was in a fully committed relationship, something he wouldn’t dare defile or sabotage, so he pushed all thoughts that weren’t of friendship with Solana Meyers to the back of his brain where they’d remain. Though they’d grown closer, way closer than he’d anticipated, she’d taken him back toHoustonn for the holidays, she didn’t want him to be alone for the holidays as the cast broke for a bit of a production break. Through those days her mother had put him up in her old room while she slept in the pull out down stairs ( despite his rebuttals) it was the hardest night of his life, all he smelt and felt was her, her scent lingered on the pillowcases, on the sheets, so much so it encompassed him, he swore he could taste her- if he’d close his eyes long enough he’d feel the sweet nectar that lay between her thighs - okay enough, he couldn’t pop a woody here of all places, in her childhood bedroom? No, he was a gentleman, but hell, if the sight of her earlier in her sleep shorts, baggy shirt and bonnet hadn’t done something to him ,he’d be worried stick and berries weren’t working properly. 

But that had been years ago, he was her friend, and vice versa he couldnt… he shouldnt so he did what he had to do; granted he wasnt proud of his past relationships and people he’d invited into his bed for the sake of scratching an itch he was positive only she could reach and quell so well. Honestly it felt like picking at a wound, a scab had become an endless and deep pit of yearning, he craved her, in ways he didn’t know were possible, he craved her voice, her thoughts on whatever pottery trinket he’d made for her and brought to her like a loyal hound on a leash, eager for her slight grin of approval as he’d watch her put it to use. 

Why didn’t he do anything about it, you may ask? 

She was in a serious relationship with an upcoming actor, not as well established as he or she was. Still, he was upcoming, he’d get there…eventually- despite every bone in his body telling him not to be austin was a man of virtue, of honour. So he respected their relationship until he got into one of his own, which would last for two years, and that would be the amount of time he wouldn’t see her for. 17 520 hours, 1 051 200 minutes, 63 072 000 seconds had passed till he’d seen her in person, felt her skin beneath his and felt her hand in his, their fingers interlocking as her lips had drunkenly pressed onto his and made him see hisi creator in the dark alley of a club. 

Solana acted like nothing happened, like he hadn't groaned between her lips and whispered devotion into her soul. A week later he’d quell his woes oncemore with a woman that looked nothing like her, looking into her eyes as Solana’s name was dangerously close to slipping from his lips, a bitter poision he’d have to swallow, just like when she’d referred to him to her best friend when she’d accepted her grammy. 

Strangel,y it didn’t deter him, not one bit, not even as his heart shattered slightly as he played the role of the supportive ‘best friend’ that night. He’d held her heels, taken her hand and helped her into the car, and much lika e supportive friend ,he’d hiked up her dress and rubbed her feet as she let out the most sinful groans of appreciation that he’d use for ammo later. 

Two years since that day, since life had happened and project after project drew them farther and farther away from each other, and face times got less and less frequent as they cast in role after role. Not once did his fevor deter him, as he played with the ring on his ring finger, the very one she’d had made for him when they’d wrapped elvis, gold with his initials and birthstone on it- a bright green peridot he;d hold to his lips for goodluck every now and again.

But now looking at her, the sight of her, in his house, watering his plants for him, breathing the same air after two years of being too busy, sent him into a damn frenzy. He’d texted her, the usual weeklycatch-upp text, and she’d responde., One thing led to another, and soon enough, she was in his house, telling him off for neglecting his plants, plants he’d even forgotten he’d had. 

“It’s a nice day out,” he began as he rounded the block; his white tee and blue jeans hugging hhis figure, accentuating hsi waist and giving a brief outline of his abs and pure muscle he’d put on for caught stealing; his hair no longer as long as it was but still as short, the sight of the silver on his neck was enough to have Solana biting her lip slightly as she turned away from him and busied herself with something. 

“And i;m hungry… are you hungry?” he continued. 

Solana let out a chuckle as she turned to him, “You askin’ me out Butler?” 

He gave her his signature grin, one he d used to melt the hearts of thousands.

“Yeah, guess I am,” he responded and she turned to face him, a matching grin of her own as she gazed into his eyes, endless pools of nothing but need met hers, it was loud, consuming and damn near explosive- perhaps she’d been have been able to see it sooner had she not been hiding hers, even as they got into his car together, the sky turning into a darker shade of blue as the orange hues illuminated her dark skin, bathing both her and him as he took her to some place he knew where they could eat ‘with a view’.

The view wasn’t anything special. Not really. Not like her. But it was quiet, and tucked away, and the city looked almost peaceful from up here, like the whole world paused just for them. He parked, didn’t say much, just let the silence breathe for a bit while Solana chewed on her bottom lip and reached for the bag of fries between them like her hands weren’t shaking.

He could feel her thigh, warm and solid beside his. She smelled like coconut oil and something sweet and warm and familiar, like a hug he hadn’t been given in years.

“You always bring girls here?” she asked, teasing but soft, the kind of soft that lived in their silences. He watched her, watched the way the sun caught her cheekbone, kissed the curve of her lip, her hair that was always neatly styled and kept in her sew-in.

He shook his head slowly. “Nope. Just you.”

A beat. She looked down, wiped her hands on a napkin she didn’t need, then laughed a little tooquicklyk. “Right. Okay.”

Like she didn’t believe him. Like she couldn’t.

“Sol,” he murmured.

Her eyes flicked to his, guarded. That old wall of hers was going up even though her body was turned toward him now, knees angled in, shoulders relaxed. She was always like that—guarded but open, closed off but glowing, and so willing to give love from a distance.

He reached out without thinking, fingers brushing hers, and when she didn’t pull away, he kept going—tracing the line of her knuckles, the edge of her wrist, the tiny freckle near her thumb he swore he’d dreamt about.

“I missed you,” he said, and his voice cracked on the last word. He felt stupid for it but he didn’t care, damn it he didn’t care nor did he know why he felt like this… or why he felt like he had to bare his heart to her.

She looked at him like he was dangerous. Like he was the matc,h and she was already soaked in gasoline.

“I kissed you,” she whispered, like it was some kind of confession. “And you let me.”

“I’d let you again,” he said, fast, almost too fast. “I’d let you now.”

She blinked at him, stunned for a second. “Austin…”

“I’m not drunk. Not now. You don’t have to pretend it didn’t mean anything.”

“It wasn’t supposed to mean anything,” she whispered, but she didn’t sound sure. “I was with somebody. You were… Austin, we were just—”

“I know. I know.” He leaned in a little. Just enough for his breath to mingle with hers. “But I still tasted you in every kiss I had after. Still think about you every time I touch someone else. Still wear the ring.”

Her eyes dropped to his hand. The peridot glinted in the sun. Her breath hitched.

“I still got your pottery in my kitchen,” she whispered. “You made me a spoon rest and called it art.”

He laughed, low and breathless. “It was art. Ugly-ass art, but still.”

Her lips curled up, and it destroyed him.

“I never stopped,” he added. “Wanting you, needing you, dreaming for you.”

And this time—this time she didn’t pull away when he leaned in.

Their lips met like a secret. Like something holy. Like the kind of kiss that made promises with tongue and teeth and memory and he was addicted, damn near addicted to whatever this was, whatever she wanted it to be. The taste of the strawberry lemonade and slightly stale fries was on her lips as he pushed his tongue in deeper, wanting more…needing more or he felt like he’d die.

She clutched the front of his shirt like it was all she had. He slid a hand into her hair, thumb brushing the edge of her jaw like it was breakable.

Outside, the city kept moving. But in the car, they were still.

On fucking fire.

Breathing each other in like salvation.

The kiss should’ve ended. Should’ve stopped the second her fingers tangled in his hair and his hand slid beneath her hoodie, thumb dragging up the skin of her waist like he was starving and rested on the small of her back; he watched as she arched it slightly, and hissed under her breath from the cold of his rings.

But it didn’t.

It deepened.

Got desperate. Got messy. Got real.

“Solana,” he breathed against her lips, but it came out like a plea, like he was asking for something he didn’t deserve but couldn’t live without.

She pulled back just a little, their foreheads pressed together, their breaths shallow and fast like they’d just sprinted through years of restraint.

“We shouldn’t,” she whispered, but her thumb was tracing his lower lip,  a string of saliva connecting them both as her eyes locked on his mouth like she already knew how it tasted and needed to remind herself again. “We can’t.”

He nodded. “Yeah.” But he kissed her again.

And again.

And again.

Hands everywhere. Palms dragging up the back of her thighs, her fingers digging into his shoulder blades like she needed to anchor herself.

“Austin,” she whispered when he kissed along her jaw, her pulse, the place just below her ear that made her body jerk in the seat like he’d flipped a switch. “We’re supposed to be friends.”

“We are friends,” he murmured, tongue brushing the corner of her mouth, “but I want to ruin that so fucking bad right now.”

Her laugh cracked mid-breath, shaky and breathless. “You’re such a bastard.”

He grinned against her skin. “Only for you.”

Her hoodie was riding up. His shirt was bunched. The air inside the car was humid and thick and heavy with want, every inch of space between them evaporated into pure electricity.

She pushed at his chest weakly, didn’t even mean it, didn’t even try. “If we do this—”

“We’ll deal with it.”

“I’m serious.”

“So am I.”

Another kiss. Slower this time. But deeper. Like he wanted to memorise the way she tasted before she changed her mind.

“God, you feel like a sin,” he mumbled against her mouth.

“Then pray about it later.”

And that was it. That was the end of the pretending. She pulled him closer, swung a leg over his lap without thinking, and suddenly she was straddling him in the front seat like this was a scene out of some twisted love song.

“You’re sure?” she asked, barely above a whisper, her lips ghosting over his, their noses brushing.

He didn’t say a word—just slid his hand up the back of her neck and kissed her like it was his last chance on earth.

She was on him. Straddling him like she was born to do it, grinding against the bulge in his jeans like she knew what she was doing to him. And she did. God, she did, she swallowed his choked moans and gasps like it was her favourite liquor and she wanted more… she needed more.

His hands slid down the back of her thighs, gripping, squeezing, like he was still convincing himself this was real. Her breath hitched as she leaned in, lips brushing the shell of his ear—on purpose.

“You gonna keep letting me make bad decisions in the front seat?” she whispered, and that was it.

Austin groaned, low and primal, before grabbing her hips and lifting her just enough to shuffle them both awkwardly.

“Back seat,” he muttered, voice rough like gravel. “Now.”

Solana blinked, lips parted, eyes wide like she hadn’t expected the command. Like she hadn’t just shattered his self-control with a single roll of her hips.

“You—what?” she breathed, dazed.

“I said get in the back,” he repeated, more serious now, more focused. “You’re not doing this to me in the front seat like I haven’t been waiting years to get you under me the right way.”

That did something to her. She bit her lip—hard—and crawled off him slowly, too slowly, the drag of her body against his making him curse under his breath. She opened the door, heart thudding, air thick around them as she climbed into the back like a siren slipping into dark water.

Austin followed, slamming the door behind him.

The second it shut, it was on.

Hands everywhere. Mouths meeting in a clash of teeth and heat. He pushed her back onto the seat gently, gently, because for all his hunger, she was sacred. She was his.

“You’ve been in my head,” he muttered against her neck, voice low and rough, like gravel coated in honey. He kissed down to her collarbone, dragging his fingers up the hem of her hoodie like he was unwrapping a secret. “You’ve been living there. Rent-free. Ruining me. Ruining what little sanity I have left… do you even know how fucking crazy you drive me, baby?”

“Then ruin me too,” she whispered, voice trembling like a thread about to snap. “Do it.”

Austin pulled back just enough to see her—really see her. Her face flushed, lips kiss-swollen, chest rising and falling in shaky, uneven breaths. Her hoodie was bunched under her ribs, her thighs parted like a silent invitation. Waiting.

“Jesus Christ,” he breathed, wonder dripping from every syllable. “You’re gonna kill me.”

Her smirk was sinful. A slow, smug tilt of her lips like she knew exactly what she was doing to him. “Good.”

The air in the backseat grew thick. Heavy with sweat, lust, and the ache of everything they'd held back for years. The windows fogged. Rationality evaporated.

Austin’s hands were on her again, moving like they had a purpose, a mission. He slid them beneath the hoodie, calloused fingers dancing up her spine. Every inch of skin he touched felt like it sparked under his palms—warm and wanting and electric.

Her bra strap popped beneath his grip with a quick snap, and he groaned at the sight that followed—rich, smooth skin revealed to him in soft light, glowing like he’d found something holy.

“You don’t know what you’re doing to me,” he whispered, lips dragging along her throat, kissing the curve where neck met shoulder like she was sacred. He yanked the hoodie over her head and tossed it somewhere in the dark. “Fuck, Solana—look at you.”

She blinked up at him, dazed and breathless. Her curls were wild, cheeks warm, eyes heavy with heat—and she arched into him like her body had been waiting for this moment since the day they met.

“I’ve been dreaming about this,” he admitted, almost like it hurt. He pushed her shorts down slowly, reverently, like every inch he uncovered was a confession. “You. Just like this. Under me. Wanting me. Needing me.”

Her breath hitched as he traced the dip of her hip bones with both hands, his thumb brushing softly over the band of her panties.

“You don’t even get it, do you?” he asked, voice a rasp now, pure smoke and obsession. “How bad I wanted you. How many nights I had to jerk off just thinking about that little sigh you do when you stretch in the morning.”

She let out a low, shaky groan, head tipped back, lips parted as her thighs instinctively squeezed together. He grinned. Slow and mean.

“Oh, you like that, don’t you, baby?” he purred. His thumb dipped lower, dragging along the cotton between her legs. “You like how fucked up I am over you? Left me hard as a damn brick in that alley—did you know that? Had to go home and handle it. All for you.”

She turned her face slightly, shying away. He tsked and grabbed her chin gently, bringing her gaze back to his.

“Don’t get shy on me now, baby,” he murmured, lips brushing hers again. “Where’s that girl, hmm?”

“She’s right here,” she whispered, voice barely audible but soaked in heat.

“Then let her open her fucking legs.”

She did.

Without question. Without hesitation. Like she belonged to him. Like she always had.

His fingers slid over her soaked panties, and his whole body shuddered.

“God damn,” he breathed, voice nearly breaking. “You’re dripping, Solana. You missed me this much, baby? Huh?”

She whimpered, hips shifting toward his hand.

He hooked a finger in the fabric and dragged her panties to the side, exposing her completely. Then he leaned back, just to look.

Look at what had haunted him for years. Look at the pink glisten of her, the way her breath hitched as the cool air touched her skin, the way her thighs trembled like they weren’t sure they could handle what was coming.

“Been dreaming about this pussy for years,” he muttered. “You don’t know how many women I tried to fuck the thought of you out of my head.”

He smirked, cruel and full of hunger.

“Didn’t work. Couldn’t work. Because none of them tasted like you.”

And then he dipped lower. His mouth followed the trail his hands had made, slow, teasing, deliberate.

He kissed her inner thigh. Nipped it. Licked just beside where she wanted him most. She gasped, her hips jerking, but he held her down.

“And now?” he whispered, voice a knife wrapped in silk. “Now I’m gonna make you come so many times, your man’ll feel it from wherever the fuck he’s at.”

“Austin—”

“I said open wider,” he growled, and she obeyed before the words even finished leaving his mouth.

Then his mouth was on her.

Hot. Wet. Desperate. His tongue licked a slow, wide stripe up the centre of her, and she cried out, her back arching. He groaned against her, gripping her thighs tighter as he buried his face between them, like this was home.

He licked again, then circled her clit with the kind of precision that had her biting her fist, moaning so loud the windows might crack.

Austin didn’t stop. Didn’t slow down. Didn’t let up.

He moaned against her, sucked, licked, traced shapes she couldn’t focus on, overwhelmed and shaking and gasping his name like it was the only one she remembered.

And the whole time, he whispered filth. Between kisses. Between licks. Between groans.

“Taste so good, baby… fuck, can’t believe I waited this long.” “This pussy was made for me.” “Come on, Solana. Give it to me. Let me feel you break.”

She did. With a cry that sounded like a prayer and a curse and his name all at once. She came hard. Harder than she ever had. And he stayed right there. Tasting it. Moaning like he was the one falling apart.

He kept going. Didn’t stop. Didn’t let her stop.

She came. Hard. But he didn’t move.

Didn’t stop. Didn’t even give her a second to breathe.

Solana whimpered as her thighs tried to close around his head. Her hands pushed weakly at his shoulders, but he just gripped her tighter, eyes flicking up to meet hers—wild, dark, starved.

He licked his lips, slow and obscene. “Nuh uh,” he muttered, mouth glistening, voice wrecked with lust. “I’m not done yet.”

Her head fell back. “Austin—baby, wait—”

“Can’t,” he breathed. “I can’t, Solana. I’ve been waiting too damn long for this. I’m gonna eat this pussy ‘til you cry.”

And he dove back in.

Tongue licking deep, lips wrapping around her clit with devastating precision, like her moans were fuel and he was running on E.

She let out a sob-an—honest-to-God sob—as her back arched, fingers scrambling through his hair, gripping tight like she could anchor herself to reality that way.

It didn’t work. Because reality? It was him. It was this. It was Austin’s mouth working her over like a man obsessed, tongue sliding inside her, lips sucking that sensitive bud, fingers gripping the softness of her thighs like they were his own personal salvation.

And he was talking. Still talking.

“God, you taste so fucking good.” “Keep squirming like that and I’m gonna hold you down, baby.” “Yeah, there it is—there she is. That’s my good girl.”

She was shaking again, her body betraying her, pleasure curling low and fast, building back up like the orgasm didn’t even finish before the next one started climbing.

“Austin, I can’t—” she gasped. “I can’t, I’m too sensitive—”

“You can,” he growled against her, tongue lashing in tight circles, locking his arms around her thighs. “And you will. Gimme one more, Solana. One more for me.”

Her body wasn’t listening to her brain anymore. Her hips rolled against his face without her permission. Her thighs trembled around his head like they were begging for mercy.

And Austin?

He groaned into her, like he loved it. Like the wet, messy sounds between her thighs were his favourite music. He buried his face deeper, lips and tongue relentless, addicted.

His hands slid up her waist, then back down to grip her ass, pulling her closer, dragging her into his mouth like he wanted to drown in her.

Her toes curled. Her voice broke. And then she came again. Harder.

This one ripped out of her. It tore from her throat, cracked her open from the inside out. She cried out his name—loud, high, helpless—and her whole body went stiff before she shattered in his hands.

Her thighs clamped around his head as she trembled, sobbing his name, babbling something that sounded like “God” and “please” and “fuck,” all blended together.

And still. He didn’t stop.

He licked her through it, gentler now, but still hungry. Still feasting. Kissing her like she was heaven and hell wrapped in silk.

When she finally collapsed back onto the seat, limp and wrecked and soaked in sweat, he pulled back slowly, resting his cheek against the inside of her thigh.

His lips were swollen. His voicewas  wrecked. His face a mess of her, shining in the low light.

And he looked so proud.

“I could eat you for the rest of my life,” he said, breathless. “No food. No water. Just you.”

She couldn’t even speak. Could barely breathe. All she could do was stare at him—this man who had just worshipped her body like it was sacred and sinful at the same time—and try to remember what planet she was on.

Austin kissed her thigh again. Soft this time. Loving.

“Let me hold you for a second,” he whispered. “Before I fuck you again.”

Her body was still twitching, nerves lit up and fried from the second orgasm he’d wrung out of her like it was nothing. She was boneless on his lap, her breath stuttering, her hands trembling against his chest.

But Austin wasn’t done. Not even close.

He looked up at her—this woman who haunted him nightly, who lived in his chest without rent or reason, who had kissed him in an alley once and then walked away like it hadn’t left him reeling for years.

His voice cracked with the weight of it. “C’mere, baby,” he whispered, barely above a breath. “Let me feel you. All of you.”

She moved slowly—ginger and gentle, and completely wrecked—as she straddled him, thighs resting on either side of his lap, chest flushed, lips kiss-swollen. His hands held her steady, but his eyes didn’t move.

They stayed locked on hers.

And when she reached between them, wrapping a soft, trembling hand around his cock to guide him in, Austin damn near broke.

He was huge. Hard. Slick with the condom, leaking at the tip, so worked up he could barely speak.

“Wait,” he said hoarsely, eyes flickering over her face, over her chest, back up to her eyes. “I—I need to see you take it. All of it.”

And she did.

She sank down on himslowlyw—agonizingly slowly—and they both gasped at the same time.

Her body welcomed him like it had been starved. Like it remembered him before it had ever touched him. Like she was made to take only him.

Austin’s head fell back against the seat, jaw clenched so tight it ached, his fingers digging into the softness of her hips as inch by inch she took him in.

“F-fuck,” he choked. “You’re—Jesus—you’re so tight, Solana. So wet. So perfect. I can’t—fuck, baby, I can’t believe you’re real.”

She whimpered, her hands clutching his shoulders, nails digging in as her walls fluttered around him.

“You feel so deep,” she whispered, her voice cracking. “Austin, you’re—oh my god—you’re so big.”

He pulled her closer. Pressed their foreheads together. His nose brushed hers.

“I’ve thought about this every night, baby. Every goddamn night. Had my hand around my cock thinking about you bouncing on me like this, soaking me just like this, moaning like that.”

She whimpered again, lips brushing his. “It’s all yours.”

That undid him.

He grabbed her ass and rolled his hips up, slow, letting her feel all of him drag against her walls, hit that spot deep inside that made her mouth drop open in a silent scream.

Her body shook.

He grinned, teeth gritted, sweat dripping down his temple.

“Yeah, that’s it,” he growled, thrusting again, dragging her down on him. “You feel that, baby? That stretch? That’s me. Filling you up. Claiming what should’ve been mine five fucking years ago.”

She buried her face in his neck, moaning against his skin. “Austin—fuck—you’re too good. I can’t—”

“Yes, you can,” he snapped, voice breaking with lust. “You will. You’re gonna take every inch. You’re gonna come on my cock and let me ruin you for everyone else.”

He slowed down again—deep, grinding thrusts that made her whimper every time he bottomed out. His hand slipped between them, thumb circling her clit with just enough pressure to make her tremble in his arms.

“You don’t even know what this does to me,” he whispered, kissing her jaw, her throat, her collarbone. “You feel like heaven. You feel like I’m dying and finally being forgiven.”

She cried out his name, hips stuttering as the coil built again, tighter and tighter, the stretch of him inside her too much and not enough all at once.

“I’m close,” she gasped. “I’m gonna—Austin, I’m gonna—”

“Look at me.” His hand caught her jaw, tilting her face up so her eyes met his. “Look at me when you come. I want you to see what you do to me.”

She did.

And then she exploded.

Third orgasm ripping through her like a storm, her whole body seizing, thighs shaking, back arching as her walls clamped down on him with a desperate need.

Austin’s eyes rolled back.

“Fuck, that’s it—that’s my girl, fuckfuckfuck—”

And then he came. Hard. Shuddering, shaking, hips jerking up into her as he moaned her name like it was the only prayer he’d ever known.

She collapsed into him. Chest against chest. Breathless.

His hands cradled the back of her head as he whispered, voice wrecked and raw and so full of love,

“You were worth every second I waited.”

Her whole body was humming.

Slick with sweat. Chest rising in shallow, stuttering breaths. Her thighs were sticky against his, twitching every few seconds like her muscles couldn’t figure out whether to collapse or climb back up to heaven.

And Austin? Austin was lying there. Flat on his back across the seat, shirt bunched beneath his shoulders, chain sticking to his skin, mouth open and dripping with need.

His voice came low, a hoarse rasp against the steam-fogged windows: “C’mere.”

She looked down at him, still breathless, lashes fluttering. “Austin, I—baby, I can’t, I just came—”

“I know,” he said, eyes dragging over her like he was starving again. “But I need to taste you one more time. Not because you owe me. Because I need it. Baby… I need it.”

The look in his eyes was enough to melt bone. And her legs moved on instinct.

She crawled up, shaky and sensitive, and he helped her—hands on her hips, guiding her gently until her knees were planted on either side of his head. His hands rubbed soothing circles into her thighs, even as his voice dropped an octave.

“Sit on my face, Solana.”

She hesitated, hovering just above his mouth, thighs trembling violently now.

And he looked up at her like she was art he didn’t think he was worthy to touch. Then, rough and reverent, he said, “Please.”

She whimpered—genuinely, helplessly—and slowly sank down, her thighs lowering onto his cheeks, her pussy just inches from his lips.

The second she touched his mouth, he moaned.

A deep, aching sound from the back of his throat, as if the taste of her was relief.

He grabbed her hips, fingers digging in, and pulled her flush against his face—tongue already licking a thick stripe up her slit, slow and obscene.

She screamed.

Her back arched, hands flying to the fogged glass for balance, palms flat as her knees nearly gave out on either side of his head.

Austin groaned again, louder this time. He sucked her clit into his mouth like it was the only thing keeping him alive—messy, wet, and fucking filthy. His tongue flicked and circled, fast then slow, then fast again, until she was sobbing above him, begging for air.

“Oh—fuck, Austin—Austin, I can’t—baby, I’m gonna—oh my god, I’m gonna fucking die—”

He just shook his head, still buried between her thighs, hands keeping her locked in place. His nose pressed against her, his mouth dragging every single sound out of her body like it was his personal soundtrack.

She tried to pull away. Tried to lift off his face, trembling all over. He growled.

“Sit back down.”

The command in his voice—raw, wrecked, trembling—shot straight through her core. She dropped back onto his face and he immediately dived back in, tongue slipping inside her this time, licking her up from the source like he was drinking holy water.

He drank her. Sloppy, slow, moaning like her pussy was the only thing he believed in.

His hands roamed up her back, his thumbs digging into her ass as he tilted his head, deeper, licking into her like he could pull her orgasm out with nothing but his mouth.

And the whole time? He was talking. Mouth full. Voice broken. Still running it.

“Fuck—so good—so fucking good, baby—can’t stop—can’t breathe and I don’t want to—taste like heaven, like home—come on, let go for me—come on.”

And she did.

Hard. Violent. Her entire body locking up, thighs squeezing his head so tight she almost saw stars, sobbing his name as her orgasm ripped through her for what had to be the fifth time.

She gushed into his mouth and he took it all. Groaning, still licking, still pressing kisses against her as her body shook like she was unraveling.

When she finally collapsed forward, her body slumping over the center console, legs fully done, Austin pulled her down gently. Kissed the inside of her thighs. Nuzzled the crease of her hip like she was the softest thing he’d ever touched.

And when she opened her eyes, dizzy and boneless and soaked in everything, he looked up at her with that half-smile and that slick mouth and whispered:

“Now you’re done.”

The air in the car was thick with it—heat, sweat, satisfaction. Every window was fogged to the point of condensation dripping. Clothes were everywhere. Her hoodie somewhere in the passenger seat. His shirt twisted beneath his spine. Her panties? Long gone.

And Solana… Solana was slumped in his lap like her bones had melted. Breath shallow. Eyes half-lidded. The kind of exhaustion that only came from being thoroughly loved on.

Austin pressed a kiss to her forehead. Then another to her temple. Then to the curve of her cheek. His arms were wrapped around her, tight but careful, like she might disappear if he let go even a little.

“You okay, baby?” he whispered, lips brushing her skin.

She hummed, voice hoarse and wrecked and sweet. “I think I saw God.”

He smiled, soft and full of heat. “You sounded like it.”

She chuckled, but it ended in a shaky little sigh. Her body still trembled, twitching involuntarily as the waves of sensation came back in little echoes.

Austin noticed immediately. His hand moved down her spine, gentle and slow, tracing the line of her back with his knuckles.

“You’re still shaking,” he murmured.

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not,” he whispered. “Let me take care of you.”

Before she could protest, he was already moving—gathering her hoodie, his t-shirt, slipping them gently over her arms. His hands were delicate, respectful, threading fabric up her body like dressing a painting.

When she tried to lift herself, her knees buckled.

He caught her with both hands, eyes wide, but filled with nothing but tenderness.

“Easy, mama,” he said, voice low and sweet. “I got you. Of course you can’t walk—you took all of me like a champ.”

She blushed. Giggled. Leaned her head against his shoulder.

“You’re so annoying,” she whispered.

He grinned, kissed her forehead again. “Yeah, but I make it up in oral.”

She hit his chest, laughing for real this time.

And Austin? He just looked at her for a second. Took it all in. Her skin still glowing, her hair a mess, her lips swollen, her eyes soft. And his heart cracked open.

He brought the hem of his shirt to her mouth and wiped the corner gently, then kissed the same spot after.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he whispered. “You know that?”

She looked up, and for the first time since they’d started, her voice was small. Vulnerable. “You’re not gonna regret this tomorrow?”

Austin blinked. Then sat up straighter, brushing her curls back from her face.

“Baby,” he said, cupping her cheek. “I’ve been wanting this since 2020. You think I waited five years just to pretend this didn’t mean anything?”

Her breath caught. His thumb traced under her eye.

“I’m so in this, Solana. I want you in every way. Even the messy ones. Especially the messy ones.”

She didn’t respond with words—just pressed her forehead to his and closed her eyes.

Austin exhaled. Pulled the blanket he kept in his trunk around her shoulders. Tugged her in tighter. Pressed a hand to her thigh, rubbing soothing little circles as she drifted against him.

The city below them kept glowing.

The world kept spinning.

But inside the car?

It was just them. Soft. Wrecked. Happy.

[maroronoa]

interruption

zoro x f!reader | wc: 520

nsfw: dom-ish!zoro, submissive!reader, language, describes anal

“Shit, Zoro,” you hiss through your teeth, back arching as he bit your right ear, slowing thrusting his dick into you.

“Yeah? You like that?” He rasps, groping each breasts with a hand. Nodding your head, you wrap your arms around his shoulders and drew him closer to your sweaty, hot body. “I’ve wanted this for so long.” He says, pulling out. Before you can reply, he commands, “hands and knees on the bed. Ass up.”

You comply, feeling a rush of anticipation and excitement. Your heart pounds in your chest as you position yourself on the bed, hands and knees sinking into the mattress. “Like this?”

“Exactly like that.” Zoro replies, taking a moment to admire the view: you. His hands trace the curves of your body, sending shivers down your spine. He sighs as he lovingly traces his name on your back with his fingers, temporarily claiming you belong to him.

“W-what about the crew—” you stammer.

“Why the hell should we care?” He scoffs, slapping your ass. You squeak as he roughly pulled your hair, making your back arch down so you two locked eyes. “Tonight is all about you and me, and no one else.” He let go of your hair and propped you back to your previous stance. “Now, be a good girl for me while I take your virgin ass…”

Zoro was prepared. Taking your sweet pussy wasn’t the only hole he planned to fill. He lubed his fingers and inserted them one by one into your ass, taking note of your reactions and noises to each movement he made. When satisfied, he positions himself behind you, fingers underneath you and teasing your most sensitive spots below your belly button. “You want this as much as I do, don’t you?”

“Yes,” you gasp, your voice barely a whisper, filled with need.

“Good,” he growls, his lips brushing against your ear. “Because I’m going to give you everything you’ve ever wanted.”

With a powerful thrust, he enters you again, filling you completely. His movements were intense, leaving you breathless; your bodies were in perfect unison as both of you rocked into each other. The noises heard were the slaps of skin on skin as your bodies melted into each other's with each thrust he gave; the quiet moans you desperately try to hide, and Zoro repeatedly hissing your name. His hands continued to grip your hips, pulling you back to meet each thrust with a force that sends waves of pleasure coursing through you.

“Zoro,” you groan, your voice thick with desire.

“Just like that,” he gasps, his pace quickening. “I want to hear you.”

“Zoro!” you yell.

“Zoro!” a familiar high pitched voice echoed. “Wake up! We forgot Luffy on the island!” Zoro reluctantly opened an eye and gazed up at the ceiling, Chopper’s small face looking at him with concern. “You also got hit really bad. You okay? You have a nasty bruise on your forehead.”

“Chopper, I’m tired.” He ignores his question. “I’m going back to sleep.”

“B-but Luffy—”

“—isn’t my concern right now.” Zoro interrupts. “I have better things to do.”

[liveyun]

out of reach | knj

pairing. kim namjoon x gn ghost!reader

genre. paranormal, angst

contains. themes of grief and loss, hallucinations (?), mentions of mental instability, this is just so sad <\3

wc. ~520

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

Namjoon doesn’t even realize he’s left the studio until he’s standing at the door of his house, his keys trembling in his hand.

His brain has been static for what felt like hours — notes on paper that didn’t make sense, lyrics that felt like they were written by someone else.

Nothing fits anymore. Nothing feels like his.

Not the music, not the house, not himself.

Not his life.

The moment he steps inside, the air changes. It’s kind of. . . heavier here. Colder. Like the place is holding its breath. Like how devoid it is of life blooming inside.

His bag slides from his shoulder to the floor with a thud, but he doesn’t move to pick it up. His eyes are already searching the dimly lit living room, scanning for something, someone.

He sees you.

You’re sitting on the edge of the couch, your figure faint in the half-light, like a smudge on glass that he can never quite clean. Your hair falls around your face like it always used to, and for a split second, Namjoon forgets.

He forgets you’re not supposed to be here.

“You. . you’re still here,” he says, his voice hoarse from hours of silence, the words slipping out before he can stop them.

Even his voice feels like it doesn’t belong to him.

You lift your head slowly, your expression unreadable, your hands clasped loosely in your lap. “You always say that,” you murmur. “But you know I can’t stay.”

His heart stumbles in his chest, and he takes a shaky step toward you. He can’t remember when did his heart beat this fast the whole day as it is now. “Then why do you keep coming back?”

The ghost of a smile crosses your face — something soft and sad, something that cuts him deeper than any blade could.

“Because you keep calling me.”

Namjoon swallows hard, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. “I’m going insane,” he says, the words falling out of him like a confession. Like a burden being lifted off his shoulders. “I feel like I’m losing my mind, and I don’t know what’s real anymore. You’re here, but you’re not. You’re talking to me, but . . . but you’re not.”

“I never wanted this for you,” you whisper, your voice like the wind, fragile and fleeting. Something tingles in the back of his head at how soothing your voice is, to him. “I wanted you to live, Joon. To live. To . . forget. To move on.”

“How?” he demands, his voice rising, cracking, breaking. “How am I supposed to move on when you’re still here? When you keep showing up like this, like . . like you’re haunting me on purpose?”

You stand then, your figure flickering faintly, like a candle about to burn out. “I’m not haunting you,” you say softly.

“You’re haunting yourself.”

The words hit him like a punch to the chest, knocking the air out of his lungs. He takes another step forward, his hands reaching out toward you, desperate to feel something, anything.

“Please,” he begs, his voice pleading. “Stay. Stay with me. Just a little longer. Please.”

You look at him for what feels like an eternity, your eyes full of all the things you’ll never get to say. And then he watches with unblinking eyes as you fade, your outline dissolving into the cold, empty air.

Namjoon falls to his knees, his hands clutching the space where you used to be.

Where you’ll always be, just out of reach.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

a/n : hello ! i miss joon a lot (◞ ⸝⸝ ◟ ) . .

thank you for reading. i’ve been struggling a lot with life lately and the writing block has been draining my energy since quite sometime, so, your feedback means a lot to me.🩶 take care x

[htmliu]

𖤐 ִֶָ 𓂃 what dating dream’s 00 line is like

⠀ ⠀⠀ genre. fluffluffluff wc. ≈520

(✵) ; HUANG RENJUN. lavender-scented sheets, LAUGHS between kisses, evening walks with your arms interlaced, candle-lit dinners in your living room, spontaneous museum dates, pinky promises, board games and coffee mugs, promise rings, picnics in spring, photobooth strips, amusement park trips, feeling comfortable in the silence, the smell of fresh paint, playing animal crossing, birthday letters, solving puzzles by the fireplace, wine glasses, eyes meeting whenever you laugh, him fixing your hair, but also getting shy when you do the same for him, sitting by the veranda and talking all night about anything in the world, sharing airpods, cuddling on rainy nights, handmade gifts

(✵) ; LEE JENO. sharing hoodies (bc he thinks you look cute in his clothes), neck kisses, failed attempts at trying to cook together and ordering takeout right after, playing with his hair, matching phone cases and lockscreens, resting your head on his lap, cat cafe dates, shy smiles, snaking his hand around your waist, pulling you closer to himself, ikea trips for the shits and giggles, holding hands while crossing the road, tying your laces, CLINGY hugs, sharing cat videos with each other, compliments you but ends up getting shy himself, smothering each other with kisses when the other is in a sulky mood, gives you his jacket on cold nights, uses corny pick up lines and smiles thinking he nailed it, back massages, him playing with your hands

(✵) ; LEE DONGHYUCK. LONG video calls, dancing in the kitchen, surprising you with kisses, late-night runs to the ice cream shop, talking all night long, movie dates (cheesy chick flicks), him attempting to recreate scenes from the said cheesy chick flicks with you, playful bantering, drunken karaoke nights, knowing the lyrics to each other’s favorite songs, plushies from the arcade, smell of sharpie, smiling at the sun, BACK HUGS, nose kisses, lazy mornings, sending something to you when it reminds him of you, playing pictionary, gifting each other ugly christmas sweaters every year, singing along to the radio, belly rubs, making playlists for each other, tousled hair, having silly pics of the other in your camera rolls, NICKNAMES, kissing his moles, he likes to call himself your personal ramen chef, finds it cute when you wear his glasses

(✵) ; NA JAEMIN. stay in dates, candid pictures, coffee runs, late night drives with no destination in mind; just smiles, forehead kisses, corny couple t-shirts bc he thought it was funny, breakfast in bed, him cooking for you, back hugs where you snuggle your face into the crook of his neck which results in the two of breaking into giggles, polaroids, waves crashing, hair hitting your face, sharing silly selfies with each other, smiling while he listens to you, grocery shopping, you once caught him on a call with your mom (he was trying to learn how to make your comfort dishes), smiling in between kisses, talking about your childhoods, oversized white tees, cosy movie nights, kisses you to shut you up when he doesn’t know how else to calm you down, sending cat videos to each other (2), bubble baths and wine, “my love,” star gazing, SMILES, lots of GIFT giving and receiving

© HTMLIU

[lady-lostmind]

SPARK

Written for @steddiebingo Kissing Booth Prompt: Passion Main Card Prompt: Quickie

Rating: E | WC: 520

Thank you @oh-stars for betaing!!

Eddie never really got the whole swooning over romance thing before. He was always so sure that all the things he’d read in books and seen in movies were just the grand imaginings of their creators. A wishfulness that humans can’t help but have. They dream up things and feelings that could never exist in real life to escape the doom and gloom that comes with a mundane life. Eddie has been with plenty of people and never felt that “spark” people talk about. He was pretty sure it was just lust everyone was feeling. That they just didn’t want to admit it to themselves. That’s what he used to think, at least.

Before he met Steve. 

Everything with Steve is more. Every touch feels supercharged with the love he feels in his very bones for him. Even now, as he fucks into Steve quick and dirty, no time to drag things out the way he likes to, he’s overcome with a passion he’s only ever felt when he’s with Steve.

It doesn’t matter if they spend hours staring into each other eyes, fucking slow and deep like nothing else exists in the world, or he has him pinned against a wall trying to get them both off as fast as possible, it feels the same. It feels like his entire world is burning around him. Spark doesn’t even begin to cover the way he feels about this man. He’d do anything for him. He’d die for him. He’d–

“What do you want, baby? Hmm?” Eddie licks up Steve’s neck and grabs onto his shoulder as he slams into him again. They need to speed this up. People will be here any minute, and Robin just might keep that promise to kill them if she has to see Eddie’s bare ass again. 

Eddie grabs Steve’s hair and tugs, smiling when he moans loudly into the room. “Come on, sweetheart. What do you need? We don’t have much time.” 

Steve groans, reaching back to knot his hand in Eddie’s hair, pulling him even closer. “Just need you.” 

Eddie huffs a laugh against his skin and follows it with a kiss. “You already have me.” 

Steve whines, pressing back against Eddie. “I need more.”

Eddie groans, slamming his hips against Steve’s with more force, trying to give him what he wants. Trying to get him to–

Steve gasps, reaching down to stroke himself as he falls over the edge, the hand still in Eddie’s hair tightening its grip and tugging painfully. Eddie lets out a hiss that morphs into a moan when Steve clenches down around him. “Fuck. Stevie I–” He tries to pull back, not wanting to leave Steve with a mess when they have company coming over. But he should have known better. Should have known this is what Steve wanted. Steve holds onto him tightly, turning his head to capture Eddie’s lips with his. “Want to feel you.” 

Eddie’s hips snap forward a final time as he spills into Steve, breaths coming in pants as he presses his forehead to Steve’s and stares into his deep eyes. 

Burning alive.

[daydreamingyuta]

Lullaby | Jaehyun

summary: fluff, drabble, listening in on your husband, jaehyun, sing a lullaby to your daughter in order to persuade her back to sleep wc: 520

You sigh as the hot water hits your shoulders, finally letting yourself relax after another long day that's been busy with chores around the house and taking care of your daughter. You headed straight to the shower after you put her to bed, this precious time being the only time to yourself today.

Usually days weren't so tiresome. With your husband helping, you two were able to perfectly balance everything, but on the days where Jaehyun had to work late, the day left you needing several shots of espresso to get through.

You took your time in the shower and enjoyed every second of it. Even your skincare, something that you used to find tedious, has become one of your favorite parts of the day because it was just nice to spend a little time on yourself.

It wasn't until you had gotten dressed in your pajamas and wrapped your hair up in a towel, that you heard the distinct sound of Jaehyun's voice. He must have come home while you were still in the shower, the running water making it so you couldn't hear the garage door opening.

You leave your bedroom and start your way downstairs to the kitchen where you assumed he was until you saw the glow of light coming from inside your daughter's room. When you had left her she was fast asleep, but she's always been a light sleeper, so the sound of Jaehyun coming home must have woken her.

You tiptoe your way to them, trying not to disrupt, while also seeing what they were doing. As soon as you make your way to her door, you stop right there and just listen. Jaehyun was singing her to sleep, a little lullaby that he's sung hundreds of times since your daughter was born.

Your husband's melodic voice always had a special effect on her and it was the easiest way to get her back to sleep. Even you, after being with Jaehyun for many years, relished hearing him sing because his pretty voice was the very thing that made you fall in love in the first place. 

The lullaby ends and you hear Jaehyun kiss her, presumably on the top of her head like he always does. You must have been feeling a bit more emotional today because you found that your heart was completely melted at this precious moment between the two people you loved the very most.

You waited as he tucked her into bed and turned off her lights, greeting him out in the hall. "She must have woken up when I came home." Jaehyun whispers, closing her door.

“Hm, you’re such a good dad, Jae.” You hum as you wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him. He kisses you back, welcoming your familiar embrace that he's been craving all day. “I’ve missed you so much today, angel. I bet you’re tired.”

You nod your head and close your eyes resting your head in the crook of his neck. “A little.”

He rakes his fingers through your hair. “Let me wash up real quick and then I can sing my other girl to sleep, hm?"

[misswynters]

Snow Angels

short drabble

featuring. ricky shen x gn!reader

wc. 520

Synopsis: Ricky is waiting for you outside while it’s snowing outside. He looks so adorable as the snow falls on his face that you couldn’t resist even though it’s cold outside.

The snow was falling steadily, blanketing everything in a soft, serene white. You stood by the window, watching the flakes drift lazily from the sky, and spotted Ricky waiting just outside your front gate. His figure was bundled in a dark coat, and his breath escaped in faint clouds as he blew into his hands to keep warm.

Even from the distance, he looked adorable. Snowflakes dusted his hair, catching on his lashes, making his already bright features seem ethereal in the wintry glow of the streetlamp. He tilted his head back, letting the snow fall on his face, a small smile curving his lips as he basked in the quiet magic of the moment. You couldn’t help yourself.

Grabbing your thickest coat and wrapping your scarf snugly around your neck, you pulled on gloves and hurried outside. The cold hit you immediately, biting at your cheeks and nose, but the sight of Ricky waiting, so patient and beautiful in the snow, made you forget the chill “Ricky!” you called, your voice muffled by the layers around your face.

He turned toward you, his eyes lighting up as a wide grin spread across his lips. “You actually came out!” he said, jogging toward you, his steps crunching in the snow.

“I couldn’t resist,” you replied, pulling your scarf down just enough for your voice to carry. “But why are you out here freezing? You look like you’ve been standing in the cold forever.”

“Worth it,” he said simply, his grin turning a little smug. “It’s not every day I get to stand outside waiting for the most amazing person in the world.”

Your cheeks flushed, and it wasn’t from the cold. “You’re such a flirt,” you muttered, tugging your scarf higher to hide your growing smile.

Ricky laughed, his voice warm and rich against the stillness of the snowy evening. He stepped closer, tugging playfully at the end of your scarf. “Come on, it’s beautiful out here! The snow is perfect—it’s like we’re in a winter wonderland.”

You looked around, taking in the stillness of the world around you. The trees were heavy with snow, their branches glittering faintly under the streetlight. The ground sparkled as if scattered with tiny diamonds, and the only sound was the occasional rustle of snow falling from the trees.

“It is beautiful,” you admitted, looking back at him. He was still watching you, his eyes soft and full of something you couldn’t quite name.

“See? I told you,” he said, his tone teasing.

You rolled your eyes, but the corners of your lips tugged upward. “You’re going to catch a cold, though, standing out here like this.”

“I’m fine,” he replied with a shrug. “I’m waiting for you, so it doesn’t feel that cold.”

The sincerity in his voice caught you off guard, and your heart did a little flip. You reached out to brush some snow off his shoulder. “Well, now I’m here. What do you want to do, Mr. Winter Wonderland?”

His grin turned mischievous. “Funny you should ask.” Without warning, he bent down and scooped up a handful of snow, compacting it into a ball.

“Oh, no,” you said, already taking a step back.

“Oh, yes,” he replied, laughing as he threw the snowball gently at you. It hit your shoulder with a soft poof, scattering in a spray of white.

“Ricky!” you yelped, bending down to grab your own handful of snow. “You’re going to regret that!”

The next few minutes were pure chaos. Snowballs flew back and forth as you chased each other around the yard, slipping and sliding on the fresh powder. Ricky’s aim was annoyingly good, and he was quick on his feet, ducking behind trees or diving into snowbanks to avoid your throws.

“You’re too good at this!” you shouted, crouching behind a tree for cover.

“Years of practice,” he called back, his voice full of laughter. He peeked out from his hiding spot, smirking. “You’re going to have to do better than that, my love!”

You grumbled under your breath, trying to aim your next throw, but just as you were about to launch it, Ricky appeared out of nowhere and tackled you into the snow.

“Truce!” you gasped, laughing as you fell onto your back.

“Truce,” he agreed, flopping down beside you, his chest heaving as he caught his breath.

For a moment, the two of you lay there in silence, staring up at the sky. The snow continued to fall, soft and steady, and the cold seeped through your clothes, but you didn’t care.

“This is nice,” you said quietly, turning your head to look at him.

“Yeah,” he replied, his voice softer now. His eyes met yours, and with the way he looked at you. Let’s just say it was joyful. It was like you were the only thing that mattered in the entire snowy world, it made your heart ache in the best way.

Then, without warning, he started moving his arms and legs, the snow crunching beneath him.

“What are you doing?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Making a snow angel,” he said, grinning up at the sky. “You should try it.”

You rolled your eyes, but his enthusiasm was infectious. “Fine,” you said, lying back down and copying his movements.

When you both sat up to admire your work, the snow angels were slightly crooked and uneven, but they looked perfect side by side.

“They’re kind of cute,” you admitted, brushing some snow off your gloves.

“Kind of?” Ricky nudged you with his shoulder. “You mean completely adorable, just like us.”

You laughed, shoving him lightly. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re perfect,” he replied, his tone teasing but his eyes soft. He reached out, brushing a stray snowflake from your hair. “I don’t know how I got this lucky.”

Your cheeks warmed, and you leaned into his touch. “Maybe I’m the lucky one.”

He smiled, leaning closer until your foreheads touched. “Guess we’re both pretty lucky, then.”

The cold didn’t matter anymore. With Ricky by your side, the world felt warm, even in the middle of a snowy winter.

banner: @anitalenia

[piftamere]

fourteen - cares about (wc : 520)

he just dropped her off in front of her building, driving back down her street to his place. memories of the night replaying in his head. he sees his reflection in the rear view mirror. a few streaks of paint in his hair, a small purple line across his cheek that he tried to erase without success, a smudge of green on his forearm that looks suspiciously like her hand print. he catches himself smiling like a kid, a stupid, toothy grin that he can’t seem to shake.

he notices the familiar, slightly oversized jacket sprawled across the backseat of his car while waiting at a stoplight. the light turns green but he’s close enough to her apartment that he decides to turn back and return it.

when he arrives at her building, something feels off. the door is ajar, its hinges creaking in the silence of the night. weird. it doesn’t lock behind him either.

a sharp, angry voice echoes down the staircase.

his feet move on their own as he quickly climbs the stairs, alarmed, jacket in hand.

in the dim light of the hallway, he finds her. she’s standing still, her gaze fixed somewhere far away.

a woman he doesn’t recognize is in front of her, screaming, approaching threateningly. he barely has the time to process what’s happening before the woman reaches out, fingers clawing toward her face. without thinking, he steps in, his body shielding her from the stranger’s grasp. he holds up a hand to block her, gripping her wrist tightly.

“back off!” he warned, pushing her harshly. his voice is low and firm, though panic is bubbling beneath the surface.

she winces and stumbles back, glaring at him in discontent. she insults him but he doesn't care. behind him, yn still hasn’t moved. he glances at her briefly, he sees the tears brimming her eyes, still not looking at him. it guts him. he tries to talk to her, but she doesn’t respond.

he reaches for the doorbell, ringing it frantically, hoping someone’s home. it echoes through the apartment, loud and insistent. after what seems like eternity, the door swings open, revealing kageyama, his hair tousled and expression groggy.

“what the-” he’s about to protest to being woken up so abruptly at 2 in the morning, but he freezes at the sight in front of him. his gaze shifts from the woman to atsumu, and then to his friend, standing there with tears threatening to spill.

the stranger takes a wary step back, suddenly feeling out-numbered. she mutters something under her breath then slowly backs away and disappears down the stairs.

kageyama’s expression softens, he steps aside and yn slips right past him into their apartment, without a word.

atsumu tries to briefly explain what happened but kageyama holds up a hand to stop him.

“thanks,” he says, dismissive but not unkind. “i got it from here.”

with that he closes the door behind him, leaving atsumu standing in the hallway, the jacket still clutched in his hand.

he stands there, his heart thumping in his chest, staring at the closed door in shock.

fun facts

as they were lying on the floor, yn and atsumu had a paint battle, or more accurately, atsumu sneak-attacked yn with paint

after which he insisted that his body was a waste of a perfect canvas,

she agreed to paint on his back, mostly because he wouldn’t stop pouting until she did

yn’s lock screen is what she painted on his back,

his lock screen is what he painted on hers

kiyoko came over while all yn's roommates were out

when they came home they were already 4 drinks in, they passed out on the couch at 3 am.

kiyoko's pretending she didn't send the texts from before the date and yn's pretending she didn't see them

every time kiyoko tried to talk about what happened yn refilled their glasses

kiyoko usually doesn't indulge yn's behavior but she had no idea what else she could do

kageyama was getting annoyed that atsumu wasn't letting go so he gave his phone to yachi after atsumu's fifth text so she could answer in his place

she was trying her best to sound like him, but she's a lot more talkative

yachi also strongly believes yn likes atsumu

kageyama didn't blow him off bc he wanted to ask about hinata

atsumu heard their advice but who knows if he'll listen, he's not the most patient

authors note

atsumu's pov of the end of the night...

i wanted to add the back painting thing in the last part but it was getting too long and it felt out of place in this one

play dumb! - next

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