#“against expectations” or “unexpectedly” ? – how awkward!

[zishuge]

Sad Bonus:

Di Feisheng? The devil of Jinyuan Alliance, Di Feisheng? Don't you know it's because of him that my master has been missing for ten years? How could you be with someone like that? Mysterious Lotus Casebook (2023) | Ep. 13

[mostly-imagines]

The Morning After The Venus Drug

You wake to an ache that runs straight through your muscles and into your bones. Your eyelids feel weighted as you try to blink yourself to consciousness, the fabric of the pillowcase an unexpectedly tough barrier.

You lay on your stomach, bed sheets pooling around your waist. You recognize the weight of Jason’s arm over you before you see him, hair tousled and face scrunched up against your same pillow.

His cheeks are flushed pink and he’s still perspired, but he looks peaceful. You press the back of your hand to his forehead, frowning at the heat you’re met with.

You try your hardest to unwrap his arm from around your torso without waking him, an action that requires far more energy than you were hoping to capitulate to. But that movement turns out to be nothing compared to the ache felt when you try to move your legs.

A slight shift has you immediately stilling, the soreness between your legs proving to be more severe than anticipated. You stifle a groan, slowly pushing yourself to sit up. You have to take a moment to rest your muscles as your legs hang limp over the side of the bed.

Your legs are shaky and unstable as you try to stand and you nearly fall back onto the bed. You need a few practice steps before you’re able to pick up any actual pace towards the door.

You sit on the side of the tub while you clean yourself up, the skin of your thighs almost too tender to bear the ruggedness of the rag. You can’t be sure of how many rounds you went last night, but if you’re in this kind of shape, he must be worse off.

On your way to toss the used cloth in favor of a new one, a glance in the mirror has you double-taking. The hickies scattered across your neck and collarbone are blossoming dark and to be expected. However, the sight of bruises littered across your waist and hips draw some extra attention. They don’t hurt, really, the marks mostly bring forth warm feelings.

But you know that Jason won’t feel the same upon discovering them, so you figure it's best to cover them up for now.

You quietly shuffle through the bedroom drawers and pull out one of his gray shirts that’s even a little big on him. It drowns you out, more than enough to cover your rembrandts from last night.

The floorboards creak as you make your way to the kitchen, steps stiff and awkward. The warm orange light flowing in from the living room curtains is soothing, if not far too bright.

With a restrained pull, you pop the fridge open, careful not to let the unseal make too much noise. You collect a bottle of water and dampen the extra rag with cool water from the faucet.

You tiptoe back to the bedroom, supplies in hand. The mattress springs squeak slightly as your weight returns to them.

One hand comes to rest on Jason’s back as water from the washcloth drips down your other arm. “Hey,” you trace nonsense patterns into his skin, hoping the sensation will be enough to rouse him like it usually is.

But he doesn’t so much as stir, still breathing deeply. “Jay?” you shake him lightly, “You gotta wake up, baby.”

His eyes squeeze shut harder and a groan reverberates from deep in his throat. “Fuck…”

“Hey pretty boy,” you murmur, brushing his hair back. His face burrows further into the pillow as his hand comes up to blindly search for your thigh, kneading your skin once he finds you. “How you feel?”

“Like I got hit by a train,” he croaks, turning his head hesitantly into the light to look at you. He squints as he takes in the sight of you, slowly shifting onto his back. “Are you hurt?”

You shake your head tenderly, “Just sore.” You hold the water out to him, “Here.”

He looks at the water, then back to you. You huff, “Just drink it. I’ll have some after.”

He perches himself up on his elbow, taking the bottle from your hand with a pout. He chugs down three gulps before pushing the drink back in your hands expectantly. You feel his eyes on you as you take your own sips, only moving to sit up completely when he’s satisfied with your hydration.

He grunts as he adjusts his muscles to the new position, holding a hand out. “Lemme see you.”

“I’m alright,” you tell him, trying to mitigate his worry before it begins.

But his face only sterns, voice becoming serious. “Then let me see you.”

You’re ready to argue more to save him from the sure-to-come guilt, but he tugs your shirt up anyway, blinking a few times to get a clearer look at your skin.

Delicate hands come to hold you by the sides of your ribs, nudging you this way and that to examine the bruises littered across your skin. “Oh fuck, baby..”

He leans in close, running featherlight touches over the marks. “I don’t…” his chest drops, “I don’t remember doing that.”

You nod in understanding, taking his hands in yours and pulling them away from your body. “They don’t hurt. I like seeing them.”

He peers up at you skeptically and you nod again. “I like them. A lot. I like anything you give me.”

He closes his eyes and drops his head, “I should give you nicer things. Less painful.”

You gently push his face up to look at yours, keeping hold of his cheeks. “You do give me nice things,” you tell him before pressing a slow kiss to his lips. You rest your forehead against his, “But I like the rougher things too. Especially when I get them while you’re feeling good.”

His hands cover yours, moving them back down and turning them so he can hold them properly. “You’re okay?”

“I’m better than okay. Can guarantee I’m feeling better than you are anyways.” You pull back, scanning over his flushed face. You pick up the rag from your now considerably wet thigh, dabbing his forehead with it. “You look overheated.”

He relaxes a bit against the coolness, “Yeah, the effects of the toxin take a little while to wear all the way off. It’s not so bad anymore though.”

You nudge him to lay back down, draping the cloth over his head. He looks over you fondly as you lay a light kiss on his collarbone before tucking yourself into his side with closed eyes.

[nottsangel]

bsf!theo finding out no guys ever made you cum

“but like… do you cum quickly during sex?” theo asks after clearing his throat, returning the same question you asked him earlier. for a moment, it catches you off guard, and you awkwardly cough, your eyes uncomfortably darting around his messy dorm room. it’s one of those friday nights where you’re hanging out in theo’s room, sipping on some leftover alcohol and asking each other any questions you have— no limits.

“well…” you begin hesitantly, your body unconsciously turning away from his out of embarrassment, unsure of what to say, but that only prompts him to move enticingly closer to you on the bed. his movements cause the mattress to lightly bounce under you as you lay on your stomach, your hands supporting your head.

“ohhh… i get it. you’re one of those girls who can cum in seconds, no?”

“not— not exactly… it’s just—” it’s just what? how are you going to tell your best friend that you’ve never cum before during sex? oh, this is fucking awkward.

“the thing is—” you start, rolling over so that you’re now lying on your back with your head in theo’s lap, who’s eyeing you with a puzzled expression, his head tilted in genuine confusion and his back lazily resting against the headboard.

“i— uhh… have never…” you’re nervously picking at your nails now, unable to meet theo’s intense gaze as his hands find your hair, fingers mindlessly playing with the strands. you instantly melt under his gentle touch, causing you to blurt out your next sentence.

“i have never cum before during sex!” you confess in one big breath, your wide eyes locking with his blue ones for the first time, and he instantly stops his movements. instead of shock, or judgement, or whatever else you expected, a small, cocky smile tugs at the corners of his lips, his eyes flicking from your eyes to your mouth.

“amore, per favore, what kind of fucking idiots have you been sleeping with? huh?” he shakes his head while letting out a small chuckle, a sense of disapproval along with disbelief crossing his face for a moment… but not only that— there’s another emotion on his face that you can’t quite pinpoint.

“i don’t know, okay? it just never happened! and it’s fine, really. i’m okay with it. it’s just how it is and i’ve accepted it already, and, and—” you ramble erratically, your face heating up in embarrassment, that you don’t even notice him carefully removing your head from his lap and rising to his feet until he’s suddenly on his knees in front of you.

“it’s not a big deal, so don’t worry abou— …what are you doing?” your frantic words slowly trail off, your tone shifting to one of confusion as you prop yourself up on your elbows, wide-eyed, staring down at him. he then unexpectedly flips your skirt up and assertively spreads your legs wide, causing you to let out a breathless gasp.

“bella… let me make it up to you, hm? for all those times those idioti del cazzo couldn’t make you cum.” you instinctively spread your legs wider, his words rushing straight down to your aching core as he gently plants soft, slow kisses on the insides of your thighs, his breath warm and tantalising against your skin. in no time, your panties grow damp with arousal, your heart racing wildly at his touch as you crave even more of him.

“just relax for me and let a real man take care of you, tesoro. i promise i’ll make you cum until you’re begging for me to stop, capito?”

ੈ♡˳

reminder: reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated and keep me motivated. ty! ♡

[oimitocat]

STRAY KIDS REACTION TO…

…having a vibrator and you messing with the settings

ᡴꪫ CHAN…. would have been so against the idea but after so much convincing he finally gave in. you had promised to not interfere with his work for it. yet he should have known better. he trusts you so much that he had thought you were pleased with him just having it in… forgetting about it while being cooped up in the studio.

after being alone for so many hours, when you walked in he had thought nothing of it, looking up and smiling. “hi- AH!” he literally jolts off his chair, kneeling on the floor. you’re wicked smile going unseen as he trembles on the floor. never again.

ᡴꪫ MINHO…. also wasn’t very keen on the idea but gave in when you said you’ll treat him to something delicious. he had simply asked you to not put it at the highest setting and especially around the members. technically you didn’t… just that on the day you two had gone out to get some treats, you had stayed back in the car.

he’s jogging out. picking up the order and jogs back. as soon as he opens the car door and hands you the bag- “FUCK-“ he folds over, clutching your arm for dear life. you quickly yank him inside the car as he jerks. “you little- ah!” you quickly turn it off when the driver looks back at you weird, leaning over and closing the car door as minho slumps into the seat and catches his breath.

ᡴꪫ CHANGBIN…. was completely okay with the idea. what he wasn’t okay with was how you kept messing with the settings. he was literally on a call with his mom.

“h-huh?” he swallowed, legs rubbing together and his breath shallow. “no i’m not sick- i- uh y/n is just next to me and distracting-“ you put it at the highest level “-ME! Y/N!” you grin wickedly. good thing you’re in his room.

ᡴꪫ HYUNJIN…. enjoys his quiet time. meaning he likes the peace he gets while painting or drawing. however, he couldn’t really concentrate as you were in his room- which wasn’t exactly the reason why. he had a vibrator and you were messing with the settings.

he keeps jerking when you switch the settings and his pencils moves wobbly. at some point he’s a whimpering mess slumped over his desk and you watch from his bed with a grin.

ᡴꪫ JISUNG…. likes to bed rot. he was sure you’d go easy on him since you two were comfortable in his bed. except you managed to get him to go open the door for the food you had ordered. he had complained but you kissed him and convinced extremely well. so he obeyed and walked out, only for you to start with level 5.

he’s not even out the door when he yelps and slumps against the bedroom door. you watch him with glimmering eyes before stopping. he doesn’t even trust you anymore to walk out but again, you’re a good convincer… he barely makes it to the living room…

ᡴꪫ FELIX…. so our wannabe gamer is literally in his own world. after some good sex he happily agrees to the vibrator. he knows you’re a huge tease but he didn’t expect you to actually torture him. he’s screaming at the top of his lungs while playing with his friends… when you put the highest setting possible. he chokes. literally.

“I’M MUTING-“ he screeches and with a quick tap on the button in his headset, he freely whimpers. you mess between the settings. you later suffer the (extremely good) consequences because he kept losing and sucking at the game afterwards.

ᡴꪫ SEUNGMIN…. was not easy to convince. it took a lot of work. you had to PLAY NICE. l/n y/n does not play nice but you really wanted this so you had to work for it. after so much coaxing he finally gave in. he was super awkward and tense, expecting you do start from the first second you stepped away. but he realized this is actually something he has to go by unexpectedly.

hence… after a few hours, he’s comfortably walking around and cleaning. he’s tidy. you’re helping out and watching him. the second you see him bend over to pick up the dirty clothes bin, you hit the button and- “NGH-“ he doubles over. never again…. at least for a super long time

ᡴꪫ JEONGIN…. was super nervous. yes, he was extremely down to test that out but again, nervous and shy. you coaxed him after a while and soon you managed to make him accustomed to it. as you know, jeongin is pretty clumsy…. so no one was really fazed when you’d put the lowest setting and startle him.

he’d drop whatever he’s holding, topple things over… his ears would be so red and he’d make a strangled noise. of course, you don’t do it often around whoever’s in the dorm but you tease him enough times that he ends up crying and begging you to stop (but to stop teasing and actually do something about his boner)

[magical-reid]

Unspoken Truths

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader (One use of Y/N)

Setting: Modern MCU timeline, Avengers Tower.

Word Count: 1K

Prompt: 46: “Why are you staring at me?” “Because I think you’re beautiful.”

Summary: In the quiet early hours at Avengers Tower, you’re caught off guard when Bucky Barnes, unexpectedly complimenting your natural beauty, makes you question your insecurities. His sincere words begin to dissolve your self-doubt, leaving you feeling seen and appreciated, just as you are.

It was still early in the morning when you stumbled into the kitchen of Avengers Tower, eyes barely open, a yawn escaping your lips. You were dressed in oversized shorts and a baggy shirt, your messy hair in a loose knot on top of your head. The lack of makeup and the sleepiness in your eyes made you feel more self-conscious than you’d like to admit, but it didn’t stop you from heading straight for the coffee machine.

You hadn’t expected to be greeted by anyone at this hour. Most of the Avengers were early risers, but you knew they all had their routines, and this was your time to just exist in peace before the chaos of the day began. You filled your mug with the dark liquid and leaned against the counter, staring blankly at the kitchen island as you waited for the caffeine to kick in. The quiet hum of the Tower was comforting.

You weren’t expecting someone else to be there at this hour. But then you heard it: a low voice coming from the doorway.

"Morning."

You blinked in surprise, glancing over to see Bucky standing in the doorway, his hair a little unkempt, and wearing a simple T-shirt and sweatpants. He was one of the few people who could make a casual outfit look effortlessly good, and you tried not to notice the way his gaze lingered on you.

“Hey,” you mumbled, slightly caught off guard by his presence. You shifted uncomfortably, adjusting your posture and looking back down at your coffee. It wasn’t like you were ashamed of your appearance, but there was something about Bucky’s quiet intensity that made you feel… exposed.

You could feel him staring at you, his gaze heavy on the back of your neck. His presence was always intimidating, but it felt different now—more personal, more lingering. You shifted awkwardly, trying to look anywhere but at him.

“Why are you staring at me?” you asked, trying to mask the insecurity creeping into your voice. Your hands wrapped around your mug a little tighter as you took a small sip, avoiding his eyes.

Bucky’s gaze never wavered. He was leaning against the doorframe, his arms crossed, still as quiet as ever. A faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips, but he didn’t look away.

“Because I think you’re beautiful.”

His words hit you like a jolt of electricity, leaving you stunned and unsure of how to respond. Your heart raced a little, caught somewhere between surprise and disbelief. No one had ever said anything like that to you, especially not when you felt like you were looking at your least polished self. You opened your mouth, trying to form words, but nothing came out. It felt as if the air between you had suddenly thickened, the distance between the two of you narrowing in a way that made everything else fade away.

Bucky, noticing your hesitation, seemed to soften, his smile lingering. He took a step forward, though he kept a comfortable distance, and you could feel his eyes tracing your features.

Before you could say anything, there was a sound from behind him. The rest of the team had entered the kitchen, Sam, Steve, and Natasha, all talking among themselves. It was a little distracting, and the sudden noise helped you regain some composure. You pulled your gaze away from Bucky and tried to act casual, but your heart was still pounding in your chest.

“Morning, guys,” you muttered, focusing on stirring your coffee.

“Look who’s up early,” Sam teased, throwing a playful wink in your direction. You gave him a tight smile, still feeling a little awkward, but grateful for the distraction.

“Coffee, huh?” Natasha asked, nodding at your mug. “Good idea.”

Steve, meanwhile, was exchanging a few words with Bucky, but the older soldier was unusually quiet. You noticed him glance at you again when Sam and Natasha started talking about something else. It was subtle, but his attention was unmistakable, and it made you fidget in your seat.

You tried to shake it off, but every time Bucky looked at you, the small flutter in your chest returned.

As the conversation continued around you, you found yourself caught between trying to remain calm and trying not to overthink what Bucky had said. His words echoed in your mind, and despite your usual self-assurance, the insecurity gnawed at you. How could he think you were beautiful? You weren’t even dressed up, and your hair was a mess. It felt like a compliment that was too big, too out of reach, for someone like you.

Finally, after a few more quiet moments, Bucky took a deep breath and seemed to step closer to you, his voice low and steady.

“Hey,” he said, making sure you looked up at him. “I meant it.”

You blinked, still caught in the whirlwind of your thoughts. “What?”

“That I think you’re beautiful,” Bucky said again, his tone firm, but this time there was no teasing, no hesitation. Just sincerity. “Even like this. Especially like this.”

His words hit you harder than the first time, and your chest tightened. It was one thing for him to say it, but another to actually believe it. You felt your face flush, unsure of how to respond, but you didn’t have to. Bucky, as quiet as ever, seemed content to simply stand there, waiting for you to take in what he had said.

The rest of the team continued their conversation, but it was like a distant hum now. Everything faded in the background except for Bucky’s steady gaze and his soft, honest words.

“Thanks,” you whispered, feeling your insecurities start to melt away just a little bit. “I… I needed to hear that.”

Bucky’s smile was small but genuine, and this time when he spoke, there was a softness to his voice that you hadn’t heard before. “You don’t need to hear it from anyone else, (Y/N).”

And for the first time that morning, the weight of your self-consciousness felt just a little bit lighter.

[wintfleur]

CUTE PANTS

` . . ── 𝓹airing luke hughes x female! reader

𝒮. you unexpectedly meet your new neighbor . . . in cute? pants

You had heard the alarms before you had even seen the apartment building you have been residing in for the past few years. Your thighs subtly ached as you rushed up the stone inclined path that led to the building. 

A heavy breath of relief left your lips when you made it to the top and saw your fellow residents talking amongst themselves outside the apartment. No fire or fire fighters in sight, it was just a drill. You smiled politely at your neighbors as you passed them, walking closer towards the apartment building, the annoying alarm didn't bother you since you were used to the sound. 

Your eyes traveled across the small sea of residents, some stood together most likely gossiping or complaining about the drill while others chose to stand alone. Your eyes did a double take when you noticed a tall and unfamiliar figure standing on his lonesome near the small water fountain that was to the side of the building. 

He had his back to you as he looked up at the building, so it wasn't his face that caught your attention, no it was his pants. It was his joggers that had little Snoopy's with hockey sticks? On them. what an interesting choice of pants, you thought to yourself with a small hum. You could easily tell by his body language that he was anxious about something. Most likely the fire alarm. 

“No need to look so worried, they do this every other month” you spoke as you walked up behind him, your tone reassuring and soft, not wanting to startle him with your sudden presence. Your eyes widened at how fast he turned to look at you, despite your soft tone your presence did seem to startle him, making you feel a little bad. 

Luke flinched and turned around to face you when he heard your voice, his breath hitching once he made eye contact with you. He was not expecting someone so pretty to be standing behind him, hell even talking to him. His mind wasn't even comprehending your words, instead his eyes were taking in every detail of you that he could.  

He suddenly felt very ridiculous, standing their lips parted as he looked down at you. He was internally yelling at himself to say something, but he couldn't form the words. Your lips parted in slight shock as you locked eyes with his sparkling green eyes, your eyes trailing down his perfect nose and slightly flushed cheeks and to his broad shoulders. You started to become worried that you said something wrong when he didn't say anything back . . . just stared at you in awe. 

Your fingers nervously fidgeted with the strap of your tote bag, you clear your throat and continue to speak, your tone a lot less confident as it was before “safety measures and all that” 

Luke finally broke out of his trance, blinking a few times before giving you a shy nod “Oh right, umm that's nice to know” he internally cringed at his poor excuse of a response, but he was thankful that you didn't seem to mind his awkwardness as you gave him a smile. Luke brought his hand up to awkwardly rub at his nape, his fingers brushing against his curls. He was totally blowing it and making a fool of himself, he cursed internally. 

“Yeah, yeah um that's a relief” Luke awkwardly chuckled to himself, biting his lip nervously after he let out a few chuckles. Why was it suddenly so hot? he thought to himself. 

“Cute pants” you mused with a teasing smile as your eyes trailed down his body, stopping long at his pants before titling your head back to look up at him. Your teasing smile and tone made his heart start to race, and his hands start to fidget at his sides. 

Luke’s eyes widened in panic, and he nervously rubbed his hands on the side of his pants as he looked down at them, curing himself for even stepping out of his apartment wearing them. His cheeks flushed in embarrassment as he chuckled nervously at the expense of himself “It's my laundry day” 

Before you could respond Luke took charge of the conversation, wanting to move past his ‘embarrassing pants’. He held out his hand for you to shake as he introduced himself with a shy smile “I’m Luke, I just moved into 242 with my brother” 

His heart fluttered at the feeling of your soft hand holding onto his as you politely shook it. Luke only seemed to go redder at the feeling of your touch, you let go of his hand way too soon for his taste, introducing yourself “242, hmm you're right above me, do you have an explanation for all the shuffling noises at 6am?” 

Luke didn't seem to pick up on your teasing tone and he's quick to apologize, trying to explain that it was him and his brother getting up for early practices, but you found yourself getting lost in his eyes and lips, his words completely going over your head. You laughed and shook your head, cutting him off from his small rant of apologies, with your sweet tone “I'm just teasing you Luke, I'm already up by 6 so it doesn't bother me” 

“. . . oh” he mumbled to himself before joining you in laughter, instantly relaxing a little at your reassurance. He cleared his throat and looked around at the two of your guy's surroundings, avoiding eye contact with you as he shyly mumbled “Sorry, I'm not usually this awkward” 

You were quick to reassure him with a smile “It's alright, i'm sorry for –” 

“No no no it's not your fault . . . well it is but –” luke was internally panicking as he cut you off, the last thing he wanted was his pretty neighbor blaming herself for something that wasn't her fault, well not entirely her fault. His heart was starting to race as he just realized what he had said, you looked up at him in slight confusion with a slight tilt of your head “it is?” 

Luke let out a heavy breath before confessing softly as he stuffed his shaking hands in his pockets “You're just really pretty . . . and i'm standing here making a fool outta myself the more i talk” 

He was worried that he came on too strong by calling you pretty when you physically froze and looked up at him with wide eyes. But he let out a small breath of relief when you let out a small giggle and took a step closer to him, he picked up on the small ‘cute’ you mumbled under your breath before you were saying sweetly “Thank you luke, and don't worry i don't think you are making a fool of yourself at all” 

“That's a relief, because I would really like to get to know you better — if that's alright with you of course . . . I'm in need of a good tour guide.” Luke smiled, shocking himself and you at the confidence and flirtiness in his tone. Yes, he had his brother jack and his teammates that could show him around, but he would prefer it if it was you. 

Before you could answer, you heard the manager of the apartment building calling out that it was alright for everyone to return to their apartments. You watched as your fellow residents made their way back into the building. You look back to Luke to see that he hasn't looked away from you, his green eyes begging for an answer, specifically a yes. 

You bit your lip before reaching into your tote bag and pulling out your pen and small notebook where you always wrote down your grocery lists. Luke’s eyes followed your every movement as you flipped it open and started to jolt down a number. His eyes went back up to your face as you ripped the page out and held it out for him. 

“Call me and we can schedule that tour, specifically not at 6am” You teased with a sparkling smile, slipping your pen and notebook back into your bag once he took the small paper. Luke smiled and let out a chuckle at your teasing, carefully holding the paper in his hands. 

“I’ll make sure to wear a different pair of pants” Luke quickly joined in your teasing, looking down at his pants with a smile before looking back at you. You giggled and looked down at his pants with a small smile before locking eyes with him, your sweet smile turning into a flirty smirk as you looked at him up and down before confidently saying. 

“Hmm i don't mind what you wear, i have a feeling you would look cute in anything” 

Luke went completely still at your words, the flush on his cheeks were quick to come back at your openly flirting, he opened his mouth to try to come up with anything to say but nothing came out. You laughed and the sound sounded like heaven to his ears, you softly patted his shoulder as you walked away from him and towards the front door that led to the building lobby. 

Luke quickly turned around to face you and watched as you walked away from him, his eyes following you dutifully. Before stepping into the lobby, you turn to face him one more time, giving him a smile and shy wave before leaving his sight. He returned the smile and wave before looking down at the light pink paper in his hands. His smile turned into a grin as his mind tried to memorize the numbers, afraid that he might lose it during the quick journey back to his shared apartment. 

New Jersey was definitely a big change for him, a change he was finding it a little hard to get used to. Not seeing his friends every day, the practices . . . the random fire alarm drills in his new apartment . . . but seeing his pretty neighbor was one change he could happily get used to. 

𝓇oro’s note. oh I missed writing for lukey sm :( I should be posting g another luke thing soon 🫢 please let me know know what you thought, feedback is what keeps me going 🫶🏻 . . . rookie luke makes my heart melt 🥹

part two

updated note!! : I will be making this a AU 😽

m.list wc : 1,670

˖ ་ taglist : @lesrflms @winterbarnesblog @toasttt11 @cixrosie

©️️WINTFLEUR

[honeylullaby]

“You have no idea what ‘ya doing to me, do ‘ya?” PT 1

(Rivals) Declan O’Hara x Reader PT 1

Suggestion by my sweet anon / SPOILER 🫶🏽 Maud has unexpectedly took off for London, leaving Declan alone. He could never touch, or even look, at another. Or could he?…

18+ FANFIC / SMUT. Unfortunately I got rather carried away so this one is fairly long. Hopefully it’s not boring! Reader character aged at 21. Pls leave requests in my ask box 🫶🏽🫶🏽

It has been 3 weeks, 2 days, 9 hours & 32 minutes since Maud O’Hara took leave for London — not like Declan is counting. And since then, he has spent every day with his mouth firmly clasped over a bottle of whiskey, and sleeping between the dewy blades of grass at The Priory. Taggie had since grown tired of peeling her intoxicated father from the ground and had ordered him into the village to gather supplies for her next catering job.

Begrudgingly, Declan stumbled through the village shop, throwing items from Taggie’s list into his basket. You, however, were having a mundanely average day. Filling your basket with fresh fruit and cream for a majority of your shop, you lingered for just a second by the bakery. Expecting the comforting smell of fresh bread, the sharp musk of wood shavings & rosemary aftershave danced through your nostrils as a suited man with a distinguished moustache appeared next to you, nonchalantly swiping a loaf of bread into his basket. Your slender hand reached out for a tiger loaf, just as he began his next embittered swipe.

“Sorry. Oh, hello.” He muttered under his breath, as he recognised you as the receptionist from the hellhole that is Corinium. “It’s okay. Go for it.” You reply, filling your face with a friendly smile. Hearing the melodious tone of your voice, Declan looked up to meet your gaze. The breath caught in his throat as he drank you in from top to bottom — from the gentle black kitten heels to your carefully curled brunette hair. “No, no. Take it.” He spoke, softening his voice and motioning his hand towards the bread. What a stunning girl. He had never noticed before. As you shot him another gentle smile, you picked up the loaf, popped it into your basket and begun to walk on the opposite direction. Watching your every move, Declan kept a firm concentration on your floral dress, admiring the elasticated hem that hugged your waist so tightly. Now that Maud has gone, surely he’s allowed to at least look at another woman— something he would’ve never dreamt of doing in his previous life.

Trudging out of the shop’s door with plastic bags clinging from your arms, the man is leaning against the wall, puffing furiously on his cigarette. “Hello again, Declan. You really didn’t have do that.” You immediately begin, sweat beading on your forehead. “Ahh, don’t worry,” A painstaking awkward silence ensued. The smell of his musk was intoxicating— comforting and manly. “How’s life treatin’ ‘ya workin’ for that cunt Baddingham?” He spoke Tony’s name like he was spitting it out, vile and sour-tasting. “You don’t have to… you don’t have to make small talk.” You mutter, turning away from him and beginning your walk home. Sure enough, Declan was striding to catch up with you, eyes firmly fixed on your svelte legs as you walked. “I’m not makin’ small talk. I’m just askin’. Everyone makes out that I’m a bastard, but-“ Your hand shot up to silence him. Declan’s pessimistic commentary was unbearable at the best of times, but you couldn’t stand to hear it right now. Being unable to hear anymore, you strutted off, being extra sure to sway your hips as you go, praying that he was watching. He definitely was.

•

Bursting through his own front door, Declan collapsed his shopping bags onto the floor and practically threw himself onto his sofa. He couldn’t stop thinking about the way your legs looked under that skirt. Caramel bronze, effortlessly smooth. The way the bottom of your ample cheeks just about slipped into sight as you swayed. Fuck. Closing his eyes and unzipping his trousers, Declan released his cock from the confines of his boxer shorts. He was aching, and dripping pre-cum from something as innocent as your legs. Clasping his hand around his girth, he began to pump himself slowly — imagination leading the way. Just picturing the soft skin of your breasts as he grabs a handful whilst simultaneously thrusting himself inside you. The aroma of your hot, sweet breath as you moan into his mouth, every pump taking you another second closer to ecstasy. Declan’s thighs twitched as he pictured you taking him into your mouth, humming gently on his cock as you forced him deep into your throat. Fuck, this was getting too much to bare. Pumping his hand faster, he could practically feel your tight walls enveloping him, closing around him like a tight hug. It was all too much.. he’s gonna cum. Im keeps with the worst timing humanely possible, there was a gentle knock on the front door. “Go. Away.” Declan managed to grunt out through gritted teeth. And predictably so, the mystery guest knocked once again. A few seconds pass. Angry, stomping footsteps. Door swinging open and… “WHAT?” The Irishman bellowed — half furious at having his wank disturbed, half grieving over the stunning image of you he won’t be able to get back.

“Oh, sorry, I- I just wanted to say sorry for being rude earlier. But you’re, umm… obviously busy.” You mumble under your breath, fidgeting with your hands nervously. Declan’s flies were unzipped, with a rather curious wet patch seeping through. Your eyes glazed over, and darted immediately to the side, cheeks blazing in pure crimson embarrassment. “Come in.” He replied, fighting off a smirk and zipping his trousers back up. Hesitantly, you sit on the sofa, trying not to take up any space and keeping your hands clasped together in your lap. “Drink?” Declan asks, showcasing a rather expensive looking bottle of whiskey. “No, thank you. Don’t let me stop you though.” You smile, pearly teeth on show. He wouldn’t let it stop him regardless — pouring himself a huge glass, sitting down next to you and knocking the glass back like a shot before pouring another. “As I said, sorry for being rude earlier. You caught me at a bad time,” You begin to tell your endless, anxious story, crossing your legs and exposing the laced line of your thongs under your painstakingly short skirt. Declan cracked his neck side to side, too afraid to look. Out of respect.. of course.

•

Pouring himself his third glass and sparking his 12th cigarette of the day, his clumsy, (almost) drunken hand knocked the lid of his whiskey bottle onto the floor. “Oh, let me get that.” Time to go on for the kill. Just about lifting yourself from the sofa, you bent over to retrieve the lid — the lining of your skirt almost touching your lower back, pink lace thong tucked neatly between your behind .. a full frontal view of your shapely arse. “You have no idea what ya’ doin’ to me, do ya?” Declan growled under his breath, collar growing increasingly hotter and his bulge threatening to tear through his trousers. Pretending not to hear him, you sit back down and screw the lid back onto the bottle.

“Hmm? Did you… say something?” You question, closing the gap between you both, hot breath reverberating off him. You have always found Declan O’Hara unbearably sexy.. Why not take your opportunity? “No. Have ya’ come here just ta’ be a fuckin’ tease, or did ya’ actually want sumtin’?” He snarls in the most playful manner he possibly can. You’ve had your fair share of men leering at you, but there was something so passionate and inebriating about Declan that made your loins ache. “Why would I be teasing you?” Eyes widening innocently as you talk, wrapping your hand around his fingers and guiding it to the fabric of your thong. Instinctively, he ran his fingers over your clothed slit, grunting carnally as he felt the material soak under your heat. “Fuck. I can’t. Maud.” He moaned breathlessly, the image of his sweet wife’s face clouding his mind. It mustn’t have bothered him too much, as he was soon pushing your panties to one side and swiping his pointing finger across your clit. “Christ, you’re so fuckin’ wet.”

Unable to resist the devilish temptation any longer, Declan delved two fingers inside you, hooking and pulling towards him instantly. The sudden shock of pleasure made you groan with all your lungs capacity. The sound of him coaxing out your wetness paired with your affirming moans was enough to make him blow his load then and there. “Fuck, Declan.” You belt out, feeling your orgasm grow closer, your thighs tightening and your stomach binding. “Yeah? Ya’ like my fingers inside ya’?” The man asks, speaking into your ear, the bristles of his moustache sending a chill down your spine. Feeling you clench around his fingers, he lowers himself to the ground, beginning to lap at your clit like a ravenous animal, hungry for your orgasm and fiendish for the taste of you.

The front door opens and the man you recognise as Rupert Campbell-Black lingers by the frame, puffing a cigarette and smirking with pride. “Oh fuck!” You scream, pulling one of Declan’s velvet cushions over your lower half. Menacingly, Declan threw himself up. “Jesus fuckin’ Christ, Rupert, don’t you ever knock?” His tone increasing in volume with each word.

“I’m so sorry. This was a mistake, this was…” You manage to push out, your eyes brimming with tears. How utterly embarrassing. It’s dawned on you what a huge mistake you’re making. Fastening your skirt and brushing tears from your eye, you fly out the door as fast as your legs would take you — brutally aware of a furious yet saddened Declan calling your name from his open living room. “Fuck.. please!” He shouted again, running his hands over his face.

[l3mtea]

If you want some story behind this comic, it’s just below this lil comic <3

Oh.

His quiet reverie shatters when pieces of odd moments he’s had with the fallen are forming together like a jigsaw puzzle fitting on each other perfectly.

His reckless actions to gain favor of the fallen’s emotion and attention, his unusual chattiness whenever a squabble with the king begins. Disagreeing and debating such nonsensical topics that he wouldn’t even dare to try and win over but becomes possible if it’s against the king.

Such mundane things became a thrill of joy whenever it was with the king.

The fallen has been slowly becoming a reason for his enjoyment, his everything that makes living in hell all the more fun.

He can never get over the expressions the king shows only at him, his fake smiles will always disappear when it comes to him.

It’s truly a joy.

And that brings him down to a revelation he wished he should’ve not known.

He likes Lucifer.

Terrifyingly, maybe even more so than he’d like to admit.

This revelation might change his view on Lucifer, in a lot of ways if he’s being honest.

But he throws this knowledge out of his mind. He’ll get over it someday. He’s sure of it.

Months went on and slowly, he realized he and the king had some similarities— or something they both have in agreement at least.

Lucifer likes his jokes. It was surprising, really. He simply remarked an off-handed pun towards his colleagues with expectations of none showing such enthusiasm on his jokes— except one did.

He hears the fallen snicker and laughs quietly. A sound he’d unexpectedly find lovely to his ears. A music that he can never get rid of even until today.

It became his purpose to make jokes and make the king laugh— and he didn’t regret doing so.

He tells a silly joke and the king laughs loud, his head falling back and smiling brightly at him, a golden blush spreading across his porcelain face.

It’s a beautiful sight.

“You’re not so bad for yourself, Alastor.” It was a first for the fallen to call his name properly. It’s a lovely ring he’d like to hear again.

“Likewise, sire.”

More months went on and— oh. How stupid he was.

He didn’t mean to utter such a silly thing— towards a being powerful than him no less.

“I like your dumb smile.” He didn’t mean to blurt out his thoughts loud for the king to hear. But he simply laughs at it.

“You do? Stop joking bambi.” A joke. He thought of it as a joke.

“Apologies, the mood was slowly going sour and I couldn’t help but jest a bit.”

“Oh shut up.”

‘Would you believe me if I say I like you?’

• • • •

“Lucifer.” He couldn’t help it. He can’t help but be a fool towards the fallen.

“Al? What is it?” He asks, now smiling at him. He wished for more out of this relationship he cultivated for years now.

“I’d like to confess something.” There was an odd trepidation gripping on his chest. He hates this feeling.

“Confess? Wow that’s a pretty deep word,” an awkward chuckle comes out of him, “whaddya want to say?”

“I like you, Lucifer.” A beat of silence.

“.. what?” He watches him back away slightly, an awkward laugh, “You’re joking, right?”

..

“I’m afraid not, sire.”

“Al, I— uh, I’m sorry. I don’t feel the same way.”

“.. I understand.”

“I’m sorry.” And he runs off.

..

Hah..

So this is a feeling that Vox felt when he rejected him?

Did he also think that he’d wish he died at the very moment when he realized that the friendship they’ve had for years were gone in a blink all for a stupid selfish act such as he is right now?

[iomoru]

⚠︎ Caught Off Guard ⚠︎

A/n: school is so stressing I might end up taking a long break from writing

Genre: Canon Verse, Fluff, Little Suggestive, G!n Reader, Char! x Reader, Some of the characters might be ooc, Second Person, Proofread

Chars!: Xiao, Wanderer/Scara, Kazuha, Heizou, Albedo, Sethos

Summary: You and character were about to share a private moment, but things take a sudden turn when someone unexpectedly interrupts. Embarrassed and frustrated, you find yourself in an awkward situation when you realize character forgot to lock the door. As character apologizes and offers to continue, you're no longer in the mood. Instead, you both settle for cuddling, letting the moment pass but finding comfort in each other.

Xiao (Interrupted by Hu Tao):

You and Xiao were in a rare moment of vulnerability, your breath hitching as things heated up. However, before you could lose yourself in the moment, the door slid open with a sharp sound.

“Oh! Sorry, sorry! Didn’t mean to interrupt~” Hu Tao’s sing-song voice echoed before she shut the door as fast as she came in, leaving the two of you stunned.

Your face flared up in embarrassment. “Xiao, You didn’t lock the door.”

Xiao blinked, his usual stoic expression cracking ever so slightly as he realized the mistake. “I…forgot.”

You huffed, burying your face in your hands. “Now I’m not in the mood anymore.”

He looked guilty, his golden eyes softening. “Do you...want me to leave.?”

You glanced at him, your irritation fading as you sighed. “No…Let’s just cuddle, I need to calm down.”

Xiao, still stiff from earlier, nodded and gently pulled you into his arms, his touch a quiet apology.

Wanderer (Interrupted by Nahida):

Just as you were about to get closer, the door creaked open. “Wanderer, I wanted to—oh!” Nahida stood there, wide-eyed before she quickly turned around. “I’ll come back later!”

You were mortified, heat rushing to your face. Wanderer let out a long sigh, leaning his head back in frustration.

“How hard is it to lock a door?” you muttered, still reeling from the embarrassment.

He glanced at you, a smirk playing on his lips. “I wasn’t exactly thinking about that.”

You gave him an annoyed look, crossing your arms. “Well, I’m definitely not in the mood anymore.”

He rolled his eyes but softened, shifting his position so he could wrap his arms around you. “Fine, cuddling works, too.”

Kazuha (Interrupted by Beidou):

The gentle sway of the ship added a rhythm to the moment between you and Kazuha. But just as you leaned in, the door banged open.

“Oi, Kazuha!—Oh, uh, never mind!” Beidou quickly backed out, leaving the door half-open.

Your cheeks burned as you sat back, glaring at the samurai. “Kazuha…the door.”

He chuckled softly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I forgot, my apologies.”

“Well, now the mood is ruined.” you sighed, running a hand through your hair.

Kazuha’s expression softened as he reached out to you. “How about we just sit by the deck and enjoy the sunset instead?”

You couldn’t stay mad at him, especially when he suggested something so peaceful. “Well that sounds good too I guess..”

Heizou (Interrupted by a Colleague):

Heizou had a mischievous grin on his face, but before things could go any further, there was a loud knock and a colleague’s voice from the other side of the door.

“Detective Heizou! I need to talk to you about—oh, wait. Am I interrupting something?”

You felt the heat rise to your cheeks as Heizou groaned, leaning back against the wall. “Yeah, kind of.”

The colleague quickly muttered an apology and left, leaving the two of you in awkward silence.

You glared at Heizou. “You didn’t lock the door.”

He raised an eyebrow, still grinning. “Didn’t expect someone to barge in.”

“Well, I’m definitely not in the mood now.”

He laughed softly, brushing a hand through your hair. “How about we just cuddle later when we get home?”

You sighed but leaned into his touch. “Fine, but you owe me for this.”

Albedo (Interrupted by Klee):

Albedo’s laboratory was usually a quiet place, but today it seemed fate had other plans. Just as the moment became intimate, the door creaked open.

“Albedo! I—oh!” Klee quickly covered her eyes, giggling as she realized she had walked in on something. “I’ll come back later!”

You felt your face heat up, immediately pulling away from Albedo. “You forgot to lock the door.”

He blinked in surprise, a faint blush dusting his cheeks. “Ah, I see. Apologies.”

You shook your head, trying to get over the embarrassment. “Yeah, well…now I’m not in the mood.”

Albedo gave you a soft, understanding smile and reached out to pull you close. “Would you..like to cuddle instead?”

You couldn’t manage to stay mad at him for too long. “Alright fine, let’s do that.”

Sethos (Interrupted by a Random Person):

Just as things started to get intense, the door opened abruptly. “Oh, I didn’t mean to—uh, sorry!” The stranger awkwardly shuffled back out, leaving the door ajar.

You sat up, covering your face with your hands in pure embarrassment. “Sethos, you didn’t lock the door!”

Sethos chuckled, clearly not as flustered as you. “My bad,”

You glared at him. “Well, now I’m not in the mood.”

He sighed dramatically but nodded. “Fair enough, how about we just cuddle instead?”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at your lips. “Alright, but this is your fault.”

Sethos grinned and pulled you close. “I’ll make it up to you.”

A/n: lmao might just quit writing bc of stupid school (I'm going insane atp)

© ²⁰²⁴ ɪᴏᴍᴏʀᴜ ✰ do not repost, translate, plagiarize, use to train ai, or share my work on other social media platforms.

[muzansfangs]

okay but anything fem x ichigo related has me in a chokehold!

Long overdue.

Starring: adult!Ichigo Kurosaki x f!reader; adult!Uryuu Ishida and mention to past Orihime Inoue x Ichigo Kurosaki;

Format: drabble;

Warnings: nsfw, post TYBW (which means Ichigo is 27, read the manga), possible spoilers for TYBW, dom!Ichigo, sub!reader, vaginal sex, coitus interrupted, clothed sex, nipple play;

Plot: Years of tension between Ichigo Kurosaki and you, Uryuu’s twin sister, finally came to an end when you blind drunk confessed your mutual attraction at Orihime’s birthday party. Leaving her house together, you decide to continue the night at your flat, but things do not exactly go as planned.

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

Huge and calloused, unsurprisingly warm hands fondled your mounds, while his muscular frame trapped you against the wall of your living room. You two had not even made it to the bedroom. Clothes went flying as soon as you had unlocked the front door and urged him inside your small flat through drunken giggles and slurred words.

Ichigo rolled your hardened nipples between his thumbs and forefingers, a groan escaping his lips as he pushed his crotch between your legs. Through soft pants and tousled hair, you reached your hand down past the belt of his jeans and unbuckled it hastily. You would have never rushed things, not when you were finally getting a taste of what you had been chasing after for years now. But you were both tipsy, memories of failed relationships suffocating you. On top of that, the exhaustion of pretending you never had mutual feelings for each other had pushed you to the point of no return. You had not seen Ichigo for four long years due to your work. Leaving Japan had been hard, but it was for the better. You needed time to recover anyway. Now, however, you were back and ready to start anew again.

Your teenage crush for him had come back with a bang upon seeing him sipping on a lemonade all alone at his ex’s flat. Striking up a conversation with him had not been awkward. He was still a tad clumsy, when interacting with girls, but Ichigo knew you. You had studied in the same school, fought together, you had crossed swords during the Quincy invasion, you had even interacted via social media during your absence. Ichigo never forgot you. He had witnessed to your curves blossom into that of a grown up woman and you had watched him become a man. You did not expect him to break up with the ever so sweet and devoted Orihime Inoue. Apparently, they had both realized their feelings never went beyond a strong friendship and deep admiration. Some semblance of love had eventually seeped in their hearts, but it had soon dissipated upon the few months of cohabitation they had indulged into. Their plan to start a family evaporating before their eyes in dull days of talking about how the day had treated them.

They still were pretty close, however, thus Orihime’s decision to invite him too to her birthday party.

Additionally, you thought this was your brother’s chance to finally get closer to the cheerful birthday girl, therefore you had practically forced Uryuu to attend the small dinner with you. After hours spent in catching up with Ichigo, laughters and narrations of your adventures the main topic of your conversation, you had lost the count of how many glasses of wine you had both guzzled. Gregariously, you had danced together until you found yourself grinding against him and Ichigo’s hands surely did not stay put. You jested, teased each others reactions, until you confessed you had always had feelings for him. Your words had slipped your mouth without your consent, but the damage was done.

Unexpectedly, he revealed he felt the same. You two bursted out laughing and somehow you kept it low in the presence of the other hosts, especially Uryuu and Orihime. Around midnight, you both felt like leaving. You were some privacy.

When you leaned closer to Ichigo, lips an inch away from his, glossy eyes pulling the strings of his heart in ways he had never imagined could be real, he lost his inhibitions “Can I accompany you home?” he had asked you, pinkish hues dusting his cheeks as you nodded vigorously at his suggestion. It was happening, then. You were a step away from hitting the jackpot

Besides Orihime and your brother, you had not said your goodbyes to anyone else. Giddily, you awaited for Ichigo to join you down the street, deciding to leave the party in different moments not to draw attention. By the time you had entered your apartment things had escalated quickly.

When the clink of his belt finally undone pierced your ears, you slipped your hands underneath your skirt, hooking your fingers underneath the elastic bands to slide them down your thighs. Ichigo fumbled with his jeans, unzipping them in a hurry before reaching for his wallet and drawing a condom from it.

“Oh, so you didn’t turn into a moron during my absence” you joked, watching in anticipation as he ripped the package open and proceeded to roll the condom over his length. Your eyes were too trained on the show he was giving you to register his next actions. Grasping your right leg, he secured it around his hip and let his fingers slide down your slick, ascertaining if you were wet enough for welcoming him inside.

Your breath hitched, earning a mocking grin from him “Ah, on the other hand, the more you age the closer you get to talk like your brother” he ranted, an indignated gasp from you prompting him to make it up for his words by pressing into your opening.

You hummed, rotating your hips to make him slide further into you. The tip was not enough. Your eyes closed, whilst Ichigo kissed your jawline and pushed further inside you. Your warm body sent shivers down his spine, his fingers digging onto the plush of your arse as his pelvis met yours in the last efforts to bottom out.

Your arms were looped around his shoudlers, grateful he was practically sustaining your weigh in this position. You struggled to keep some composure, biting back your tongue not to moan loudly and boost his ego. Ichigo, though, was relentless. Holding you closer to him, he pulled out before thrusting in again and repeated the action a few times to elicit strained moans from you.

“Can you not be silent when I fuck you?”.

“O-Oi, you shithead, I have neighbours!”.

Ichigo snorted, grunting when you tightened yourself around his shaft to tease him “Oh, come on, don’t be a pain—”.

Talking about a pain in the ass, a phone rang and he automatically halted his onslaught on your body. You sighed, head lolling back against the wall in defeat, but you refused to let him go. The warmth of his body, the stretch you were experiencing were something you were not so willing to give up to easily. Not even if the caller was alerting you a meteor was about to destroy the Country.

“Don’t pick up the phone…” you drawled, pouting, as Ichigo looked at you with a conflicted, troubled expression.

“But—”.

“Pretty please?”.

“What if—”.

“I’ll suck you dry, if you let it—”.

His sense of responsibility prevailed. Shooting an apologetic glance at you, he kissed your forehead and shoved his hand into the pocket of his hoodie, drawing up his phone without even checking who it was. It was your downfall.

“Kurosaki Ichigo” he said dispassionately, voice raspy, as you decided to get to payback by rolling your hips against his ones. Ichigo screwed his eyes closed, hips snapping up as you clasped your hand over your mouth not to squirm and disturb the conversation he had boldly decided to start.

“Kurosaki, finally. It’s me, Uryuu! Did I wake you up?”.

You were still clueless about what had just happened, but you observed the colors draining from Ichigo’s face and you blinked skeptically, eyes searching for his and demanding an explanation.

He cleared his throat “Uhm, yeah, kind of… — he slurred, looking away in sheer panic — What’s the matter?”.

“Actually, my sister forgot her phone. You left shortly after her, I hoped you were together so that you could tell her I’m heading to her flat to bring it to her” Uryuu formally explained and Ichigo choked on his own saliva, accidentally pushing his hips up into yours, the bulbous head of his cock bumping against your cervix.

You winced out in pain, Ichigo immediately pulling out as you bent over in slight pain and shock “What’s your fucking problem?”.

“Y/N? Is that Y/N?” Uryuu asked, voice slightly concerned as he recognized the pained undertoned in your voice.

“No! No, no, you’re mistaken! It’s the tv!” Ichigo fretted, hand running through his orange hair and nervously ruffling them. Oh, well, this definitely made you collect yourself and grasp him by the collar of his hoodie.

“Ichigo, just hang up and fuck me stupid…” you pleaded him, wrapping your arms around his firm torso and causing Uryuu to finally collect the dots from the other side of the phone.

His shouts could be heard even by you and Ichigo was therefore forced to put the speaker on as his friend bristled “What in the actual fuck did I hear? Kurosaki where are you?”.

You gaped, mortified as you paced around the room in clear distress. Telling Uryuu the truth was reasonable at this point, but what would have been the price of that? Your brother’s death, probably.

“Ishida, I can explain! We are—”.

“I don’t want to know any more details about this. Just… For God’s sake, I hope for you, fucking Kurosaki, that you’re using a condom” Uryuu cut him off, before ending up the call hastily.

You stared at Ichigo in silence for a few seconds, his dick now softened as you bit down on your lower lip. You could undrestand the pressure he had felt and the psychological consquences of it all. But now, all in all, in this messy situation, you could finally stop hiding and you could as well finish what you started.

“Uhm, cuddles in my bed until we fall asleep and shameless morning sex?” you suggested, watching hom rolling his eyes at you before pulling you to his chest by your forearm.

“It sounds good”.

AUTHOR NOTE.

Hello there! Uhm, so… Did I want to start a family drama in my fic? Yes. Did I nail it? Uhm, I don’t know. Anyway, wow, I didn’t expect to come up with another idea for a drabble that soon, especially with an Ichigo request. I sometimes struggle to depict him. Hopefully, you enjoyed it!

Goodnight,

Luce

TAGS: @noirfan12 @dehemetera @jesurum-says-hi @villainsrtasty

[revelboo]

I literally can't get enough of your writing like I need it like oxygen at this point 🙌 I am not above begging for more of Everything is alright or Over it now

My heart is literally hurting for Star because he genuinely didn't know, and he finally is starting to be vulnerable, and now he knows it's not going to last no matter what. And the inner turmoil of the reader being so torn between him and Soundwave? Wanting both but not being able to hurt Star after he put everything at risk?? It's so good but it hurts my heart 😭😭

And Jazz finally getting someone who would listen to his feelings and get to know the real him under all his masks?? The poor guy needs that so bad, and he's finally opening up (even if she can't understand what he's saying)

All in all, your writing is amazing, and you are literally amazing ✨️✨️✨️

Thank you! I have a lot of fun overthinking why the characters act the way they do and trying to get into their heads

Over It Now Pt 11

IDW Jazz x Reader

• “You could just let me take you,” he says as he watches you lock the door and do an awkward shuffle to put the keys away while trying to not drop one of your crutches in the process. Leaving him for work again. Wanting to help, but also knowing exactly how stubborn you are as you eye the stairs off your porch. He’d also figured out forgiveness was much easier to ask for than permission, reaching to lift you in his servos and carefully set you down in the driveway crutches and all bypassing the steps and then backing up to fall forward into his alt mode.

• Heart racing at being picked up unexpectedly, you warm watching his antics. Because he knows you struggle with the steps and he’d saved you from dealing with them when he didn’t have to. “We both know you have better things to do than chauffeur me around,” you say, trying not to laugh when he opens the driver’s side door and wags it back and forth in invitation.

• “Come for a ride, doll. I’ll behave.” Door still open, he fully expects you to walk past him to your own ugly car, so it’s a surprise when you slide in the driver’s seat and awkwardly lean the crutches in the passenger side. And then you’re right there and he’s more aware of you this way somehow than when he’s held you in his servos. You’re warm against him, soft hands brushing the steering wheel hesitantly as if not sure if it’s okay and he can smell your soap, your shampoo, you. “Alright,” he murmurs more to himself than to you, because it’s a small thing, but you’re entrusting yourself to him. And that means so much.

• There’s no way to not overthink that you’re sitting inside Jazz and it’s weird. You end up folding your hands in your lap so you don’t touch anything you shouldn’t. Inhaling as the shifter moves on its own and then the wheel spins as he reverses. “Doll, you’re going to have to at least pretend to drive,” he laughs and he’s right. Other drivers might notice you’re just sitting there so you just barely touch your palms to the wheel, letting it move freely against your skin.

• Primus, you’re precious. Eyes darting all over his interior, trying so hard not to touch anything. “What do you do normally? I mean a phantom car driving itself has to freak people out,” you mumble, shifting against him as he turns onto the road, wheels humming. Liking the feel of having you there, surrounded by him and safe, it takes a moment to actually understand your question. It’s not nearly the same as holding you in his hands, but still comforting to him that you’re there with him. It doesn’t take a lot of energy, but he does have to concentrate to create a holomatter avatar in the passenger side seat to show you what he normally does, not bothering to make it solid at all since your crutches are embedded in the avatar’s legs and torso and your head turns as it appears. He’s not sure what he expected, but it’s definitely not for you to scream and throw yourself against the inside of his door.

• “It’s me. It’s an avatar,” the glitchy thing in the passenger seat is saying in Jazz’s voice, holding up big hands as you nearly have a heart attack. “Doll, it’s okay. Sorry, I just-frag.” And the human shaped thing flickers and fades, leaving your heart hammering against your ribs. You’re still plastered to the door, hands curled into fists. “Were you going to punch me?” Yes. You absolutely were, because it had just been there so suddenly, a fixed grin on a fake looking face that was staring right at you, Eyes closing you lean your forehead against the cool glass of the driver’s side window and try to calm down and instead start laughing. Covering your face with your hands as he vents at you in exasperation, blowing warm air across your skin and you realize he’s never asked where you work, an address or anything. So how does he know where to take you? Has he been following you?

Previous

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[cruel-seduction]

Under the Stacks or him?

Content Warning: This scene contains explicit sexual content, strong language, and themes of power dynamics, lust, and loss of control. If you’re uncomfortable with these topics, please proceed with caution. It includes graphic depictions of sexual acts in a forbidden setting and explores unexpected character traits.

Summary - What happens when the nerd you went to bully isn't how you expected him to be? What if he is much more dominating than that?

It was well past closing time in the library, the air heavy with the scent of aging books and dust. The rest of the school was empty, students having left hours ago, leaving behind nothing but silence and the dim glow of fading lights. You were supposed to be long gone too, but something about today made you linger. Maybe it was the way the day had been so predictably dull, or maybe it was the quiet thrill that came with sneaking into the restricted section—where no one was allowed, and no one could see.

Whatever it was, you didn’t expect to find him there. The nerd. Logan, the one everyone dismissed, always hidden behind his glasses and nose buried in some thick, ancient-looking book. He was the kind of guy you barely acknowledged, a ghost in the sea of popularity and status you swam in daily.

Yet there he was, in the far corner of the library, pouring over some obscure text as if his life depended on it.

You smirked, a mischievous thought forming in the back of your mind. What was he doing here so late? And why did he think he could just slip into your space, unnoticed? There was something about the way he was so absorbed in his own world that made you want to disrupt it. To see how far you could push him.

He didn’t hear you approach, his eyes glued to the pages, completely unaware of your presence until you were standing right next to him, your hip brushing against the edge of the table. You could feel the surge of power already—he was supposed to be shy, awkward. That’s what guys like him were, right? Easily flustered, tongue-tied around a girl like you.

“I didn’t think nerds like you were into breaking the rules,” you said, your voice smooth, carrying just the right edge of teasing. You expected him to startle, maybe stutter an excuse. But instead, Logan’s eyes flicked up, locking onto yours with an intensity that made your stomach flip unexpectedly.

“And I didn’t think girls like you noticed nerds like me,” he replied calmly, his voice deeper than you’d anticipated. The steady look in his eyes was unsettling, a far cry from the nervousness you expected.

You blink, momentarily thrown off by his composure. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. He was supposed to fumble, get embarrassed. But instead, his gaze traveled over you, lingering on the curve of your waist, the hem of your skirt riding up slightly as you leaned against the table. There was no shyness in his stare—just bold, unapologetic desire.

You recover quickly, slipping into your usual teasing demeanor. “I didn’t expect to find someone like you in my library after hours,” you continue, leaning in closer, letting your voice drop into something more suggestive. You were used to boys falling over themselves to impress you, to win your approval. Surely, he’d break soon.

But Logan doesn’t falter. In fact, the corner of his mouth lifts in a slight smirk. “Your library?” he repeats, amusement in his tone as he leans back in his chair, arms crossing over his chest. “Funny, I thought it was open to everyone. Or are you saying you’ve claimed this space?”

You open your mouth to retort, but before you can, he stands up. The sudden movement startles you, and you realize with a strange mixture of excitement and discomfort that he’s taller than you expected. When did he get this tall? And when did his confidence get so… unnerving?

“Well?” he says, his voice quiet, but there’s a challenge in it, his eyes never leaving yours. “What are you going to do, Princess? Kick me out?”

You hate how your pulse quickens at the way he says that—Princess—his voice low and mocking, like he’s playing with you, not the other way around. He steps closer, the distance between you shrinking rapidly, and for the first time, you feel something shift. He’s not the one out of his element anymore. You are.

Your breath catches as he moves even closer, his body brushing against yours just enough to make your heart race. You should walk away. You should throw some cutting remark at him and leave, but your feet don’t move. Instead, you find yourself locked in place, your mind spinning with thoughts you didn’t expect to have about him.

“I came here to study,” he murmurs, his voice dropping an octave, the sound of it sending a shiver down your spine. “But maybe you’re looking for something else?”

You swallow hard, caught off guard by the way his words sound more like a dare than a question. Your mind races, trying to catch up, trying to piece together what’s happening. How did the situation shift so quickly? Why did it feel like you were the one being cornered now?

“I just thought you might need a little… distraction,” you manage to say, though your voice wavers. “Don’t nerds need to unwind sometimes?”

His eyes darken, the smirk on his face widening into something more dangerous. “You think you can distract me?” he asks, stepping even closer, until his body presses against yours, trapping you between him and the edge of the table. You feel his breath on your neck, warm and teasing, and for a moment, the library fades away. It’s just you and him now, your bodies so close that the heat between you is almost unbearable.

Before you can reply, his hand moves, sliding up the side of your thigh, the sensation sending a jolt of electricity through you. Your breath hitches as his fingers brush against the thin fabric of your skirt, pushing it up slowly, deliberately. Every inch feels like a challenge, a question: Are you going to stop me?

But you don’t.

Instead, your body betrays you, your skin burning under his touch, your heart pounding so hard you think he can probably feel it. Logan watches your reaction closely, his lips hovering dangerously close to your ear as his fingers reach the hem of your skirt, pausing there, teasing you with the promise of what’s to come.

“You came here to mess with me,” he whispers, his voice dripping with dark amusement, “but it looks like you’re the one who’s getting played.”

His words send a thrill through you, and before you can think, you find yourself pushing back, grabbing the front of his shirt and pulling him even closer. You crash your lips against his, expecting him to be caught off guard. But Logan doesn’t hesitate. His mouth moves against yours with a ferocity that takes your breath away, his hands gripping your hips and pulling you firmly against him.

There’s nothing gentle about the way he kisses you. It’s hard, demanding, and all-consuming, leaving you dizzy and aching for more.

His lips leave yours only to trail down the side of your neck, hot and insistent, while his hands grip your waist hard enough to bruise. You should’ve pulled back, should’ve regained some of the control you lost. But you didn’t. Instead, you leaned into it, letting his lips and teeth do their work, and before you could stop yourself, a quiet moan escaped your lips.

"You should be… studying," you manage to say, your voice shaky but filled with an attempt at sarcasm. It’s the only defense you have left as his hands roam your body like he owns it.

Logan’s lips hover over your collarbone for a moment, his breath hot and heavy. He chuckles, a low, dark sound that sends a fresh wave of heat pooling in your stomach. Slowly, deliberately, he pulls back just enough to meet your gaze, his eyes dark with something far more dangerous than you’d ever imagined him capable of.

“Oh, I am studying," he says, his tone dripping with amusement. "Every little reaction you’re giving me… all the ways I can make you fall apart." His hand slides down to your thigh, fingers curling around the flesh with a possessiveness that makes your breath hitch. "Trust me, Princess, I’m learning a lot more than I would from some boring textbook."

The smirk on your face falters as his words sink in. The confidence in his voice, the way he’s talking to you—like you’re nothing more than another puzzle for him to solve. Like he’s in complete control.

Your eyes widen slightly, caught off guard by his audacity, but before you can respond, Logan’s fingers slip beneath the hem of your skirt again, this time with more purpose. His thumb brushes the edge of your panties, teasing, while his other hand moves to your chin, tilting your face up so you can’t look away.

"You're so quiet now," he murmurs, his lips just inches from yours, his thumb pressing against your wetness through the thin fabric, making you gasp. "Where’s all that talk, huh? Weren’t you just mocking me?"

Your body tenses as he applies more pressure, your mind fogging over with the sheer intensity of the sensation. You bite your lip, trying to hold onto some semblance of control, but Logan isn’t giving you any room for it. His fingers are relentless, slipping past the lace of your panties and finding your slick folds, his touch both soft and demanding as he explores every inch of you.

"Maybe this is what you needed all along," he whispers, his voice taunting. "Not some shy, stammering boy… but someone who knows exactly what to do with you."

You can’t help the way your hips buck into his hand, seeking more of the pleasure he’s giving you. It’s infuriating how quickly he’s made you this desperate, how easily he’s reduced you to a mess of need and want. You should’ve been in control. This should’ve been your game. But now, he’s the one playing you.

“I could stop,” he says, his voice mockingly thoughtful as he slows his movements, his fingers barely brushing your clit. “Maybe you should focus on being the queen bee instead of being so desperate for a nerd’s touch.”

The taunt strikes hard, sending a flood of heat to your cheeks, but instead of backing down, it pushes you further. You glare at him, trying to fight the pleasure building inside you, trying to hold onto the last shreds of your pride.

“Shut up,” you snap, but your voice betrays you, shaking with a mix of arousal and frustration.

Logan’s smirk deepens, and without another word, his fingers plunge inside you, two digits curling as he thrusts deep, sending a jolt of raw pleasure through your core. You gasp, your body jerking involuntarily, your hands gripping his shoulders for support as he begins to pump his fingers in and out with a steady, merciless rhythm.

“You’re soaking,” he mutters, his voice laced with dark satisfaction as his fingers move faster, the slick sounds of your arousal filling the quiet library. “And you’re pretending you’re not loving every second of this.”

Your nails dig into his skin, your breath coming in short, ragged bursts as you struggle to keep some semblance of composure. But it’s slipping away with every thrust of his fingers, with every swirl of his thumb over your clit. Your body’s betraying you, trembling with the growing intensity of your impending release, and you hate how much you need it. How much you need him to keep going.

Logan watches you closely, his eyes dark with triumph as he drives you closer to the edge. His free hand moves to the back of your neck, pulling you into another bruising kiss as his fingers work inside you, relentless and skilled. The kiss is messy, your moans spilling into his mouth as your hips grind against his hand, desperate for more, desperate for release.

“You’re going to cum for me,” he breathes against your lips, his voice a low growl as he increases the pressure on your clit, pushing you closer and closer. “Aren’t you? You’re going to come all over my hand, right here in the library, like the filthy good girl you are.”

The words hit you like a punch, the force of them sending you spiraling. Your whole body tenses, your mind going blank as the pleasure builds to an unbearable peak. And then, with one final thrust of his fingers, you fall apart.

The orgasm rips through you, violent and all-consuming, your body trembling uncontrollably as wave after wave of pleasure crashes over you. You cry out, your nails digging into his skin, your legs shaking as you cling to him for support. Logan doesn’t stop, his fingers continuing their relentless assault, drawing out every last bit of your release until you’re a quivering, breathless mess against him.

When it’s finally over, when the aftershocks of your orgasm begin to fade, Logan pulls his hand away, his fingers slick with your arousal. He looks at you, his eyes still dark with desire, but there’s a smugness there now too—a satisfaction that comes from knowing he’s completely undone you.

You’re panting, your mind still spinning, but Logan doesn’t give you time to recover. He leans in, his lips brushing your ear as he whispers, “I’m not done with you yet.”

His hands are on you again before you can even catch your breath, turning you around so that your back is pressed against his chest. You feel his erection, hard and insistent, pressing against your lower back through his jeans, and your body responds instantly, the heat between your legs reigniting.

With one hand, he yanks your panties down to your thighs, the lace barely clinging to your legs as he spreads your legs apart with his knee. His fingers grip your hips tightly, positioning you exactly how he wants you—bent over, your hands braced against the bookshelf for support as he lines himself up behind you.

“Tell me you want this,” he demands, his voice rough with lust as he teases the head of his cock against your wet entrance, just barely grazing your slick folds. “Tell me how badly you need me to fuck you.”

You open your mouth, ready to defy him, but the moment his cock slides just a fraction inside, your resolve crumbles. The sensation is overwhelming, his size stretching you in a way that’s both painful and perfect.

“I want it,” you whisper, barely able to form the words as your body aches for him.

[springtyme]

for the october challenge can you write some for your roomate thing with simon. I really love the first part you have out. I would lover any scenario, but some cute pining would be lovely ❤️❤️ thank you

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐒𝐡𝐚��𝐨𝐰𝐬 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐋𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 ♡

Simon Riley x reader || Main masterlist || Ghost playlist

summary: You had never expected to become as close with your flatmate as you have, and on one of your usual movie nights, you and Simon become even closer.

word count: 1.3k

𝐎𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞: 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟒) 𝐌𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐞 𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭

You settle onto the sofa, crossing your legs under you and letting yourself sink into the soft cushions. The warm, buttery smell of popcorn from the large bowl that is nestled comfortably in your lap fills the air, a comforting scent that always brings back memories of childhood movie nights with your family. The soft glow of fairy lights creates a warm ambiance. You glance at Simon who is sitting at the other end of the sofa. He was the one who had helped you put them up.

His usual short, military approved, haircut is slightly longer than usual, the blonde strands catching the soft light in a way that makes him look almost ethereal. He’s reclined back, one arm resting casually on the back of the sofa, you can’t help but admire the way the muscles in his arms seem to shift slightly as he adjusts his position. The black compression t-shirt, which should be illegal for how good it looks on him, hugs his biceps so snugly and accentuates the outline of his broad shoulders and chest.

You catch yourself staring for a moment longer than intended, your heart fluttering unexpectedly at the sight.

Simon must feel your gaze because he turns his head towards you. “So, what are we watching?”

You blink, momentarily snapped out of your reverie, and manage to clear your throat. “Why don’t you pick? I feel bad that we always watch what I wanna watch,” you respond, trying to sound casual.

He raises an eyebrow, a look on his face you can’t quite read before he turns his face to the tv. “I like watching what you pick,” he mumbles, his deep voice rumbling softly, but he picks up the remote nonetheless and starts scrolling through the streaming service.

You watch him in silence, the way his brows furrow slightly in concentration, the way his thumb brushes over the buttons of the remote. This is not what you had expected when you moved in with a stranger, especially not of the military background. You had anticipated the typical flatmate dynamic: polite yet detached, maybe even a bit awkward.

But instead, Simon had turned out to be surprisingly laid-back, at least after he got used to you being in his space, his dry humour surfacing in unexpected moments, and a warmth that drew you in.

You fold your arms around the popcorn bowl, savouring the comforting weight of it against your lap as you watch him. A smile tugs at the corners of your mouth; Simon is a puzzle you find yourself wanting to decipher more and more.

He seems to finally settle on something that catches his eye. “How about this?” he asks, glancing over at you once more. You nod in agreement without even really seeing what he’s chosen. Truth be told, you don’t really care what you’re watching—you’re just enjoying being here, sharing your evening with him.

You remove the bowl of popcorn from your lap and set it on the coffee table, grabbing a handful before settling back into the cushions, feeling the soft fabric mould around you. As Simon starts the movie, you slip a few kernels into your mouth, relishing the buttery crunch and the subtle saltiness.

The film starts, and as the opening credits roll, you lose yourself in the story. However, you find it increasingly hard to concentrate on the plot. You’ve had a really long day, and it seems as if the reality of how tired you really are is only hitting you now that you’re finally comfortable.

Your attention slowly begins to drift away from the screen. Instead, you find yourself immersed in the warm atmosphere between you and Simon. The light from the fairy lights dances softly across his features, and you steal glances at him, feeling a warmth spread through you.

Eventually, you find the perfect spot in the cushions, a little closer to him than before. There is a comfortable silence that blankets the room, with only the distant sounds of the movie muffled beneath your thoughts. You notice the way his eyes flick between the screen and his popcorn, and you can’t help but admire how he throws his head back in laughter at moments you don’t quite catch.

The soft hum of the dialogue from the television blends with the comforting rhythm of Simon’s breathing nearby. Each word and sound envelops you, lulling your senses into a peaceful state. You try to concentrate on the plot unfolding before you, but despite your efforts, your eyelids just grow heavier and heavier. You yank a throw blanket from the side, pulling it over yourself. Its warmth wraps around you like a hug, and you let out a sigh of contentment.

Suddenly, you feel an arm slip behind you on the back of the sofa, an almost protective gesture that sends a ripple of awareness through your body. Simon glances down at you, and there’s a flicker of something in his eyes—curiosity? amusement? worry?—you can’t quite place it. “Are you tired?” he asks, his deep voice surprisingly gentle, not wanting to disturb the atmosphere.

“A little, yeah,” you admit, your voice soft as you try to suppress a yawn.

“We can stop the movie if you want?”

“No, don’t do that,” you say quickly, not wanting to ruin the moment. “I’m enjoying it. I just… think I might fall asleep.”

Simon chuckles softly, and the sound sends little shivers down your spine. “You’re already halfway there,” he teases, the corner of his mouth lifting into a smirk.

“Maybe…” you reply, snuggling deeper into the cushions. “But I’m staying here with you until the movie is done.”

“Okay,” he says softly with a small nod, seemingly in agreement, and you can sense the unspoken understanding between you. “But you’re gonna mess up your neck if you’re planning to fall asleep like that.”

You shake your head, determined to stay present with him, but the lush sensation of comfort begins to weigh heavily in your limbs. The warmth emanating from his side, coupled with the rhythmic sound of his breathing, only adds to the allure of sleep. You shift slightly, trying to adjust your position, but it’s a hopeless endeavour.

“Really, I’m fine,” you murmur, even though you can hear the drowsiness creeping into your tone. Yet the truth is, pulling away feels unwarranted; there is something about his presence that makes you crave closeness.

Simon looks at you for a moment, a contemplative look dancing in his eyes. Without another word, he subtly shifts his posture, leaning towards you just enough for your head to naturally slide down onto his shoulder.

The moment your head rests against him, a sense of safety washes over you. Simon doesn’t flinch; instead, he allows the contact to linger, shifting a bit to make you more comfortable. You take in the scent of his cologne—a subtle but masculine scent that mixes with the faint smell of buttery popcorn that still lingers in the air.

Your heart is suddenly beating a lot faster than it was moments before, an exhilarating flutter stirring deep within you as the warmth of his shoulder cradles your head. You can’t help but lean into him a little more, finding solace in the way he doesn't just tolerate your closeness, but actually seems to welcome it.

But as the movie plays on, your pulse calms down again. Your eyelids is growing even heavier than before, and your senses slowly starts to shut down, but you can still hear Simon’s steady breathing beside you. There’s a rhythm in it that further lulls you to sleep—slow and calming, like a heartbeat you want to lean into. The dialogue on screen fades into a background lull, and it feels as if the world outside the two of you has simply evaporated.

Every now and then, you catch a whiff of popcorn, or the warmth of his arm where it rests behind you, and both sensations soothe you deeper into this tranquil state. Simon’s shoulder is the perfect pillow, sturdy yet comforting, and you can feel a smile blooming on your lips, even as you drift off.

As you surrender to the weight of sleep, you have a fleeting thought that you could grow accustomed to this closeness, to this unexpected physical connection with Simon you haven’t shared before.

[nlvrr]

Reader who was bullied when young and then jude and her go to her hometown and everyone freaks out cause that's freaking jude bellingham and they get like, impressed by reader success as an f1 engineer and that she bagged jude? Sorry its way too specific 😅

THE RETURN | jude bellingham

summary: anon ask !! ^^

warnings: bullying

pairing: jude bellingham x fem!reader

a/n: this was so fun to make it — i hope you like it! i loved seeing jude’s gentle, yet assertive, protectiveness over reader come out.

it had been over a decade since she left her small hometown, a place that had always felt too confining. school had been a maze of awkward silences, cruel jokes, and a lingering sense of being invisible. back then, she was the quiet girl in the back of the class—trying her hardest to avoid attention and desperately wanting to fit in but never quite succeeding. those memories had faded slowly as she built a new life in the city: a promising career in f1 engineering, accomplishments that filled her with pride, and—most unexpectedly—her relationship with jude bellingham, a relationship that had made her feel seen for the first time.

she hadn’t planned on attending her high school reunion, but somehow, as time passed, she felt ready to confront her past. and she wasn’t facing it alone—jude, her supportive, gentle boyfriend, had insisted on coming with her. he knew how much the reunion meant to her.

as they neared the venue, her chest tightened. “you sure you’re okay?” jude asked quietly, his brown eyes locked on hers with such deep concern, a flicker of empathy in his gaze.

she smiled faintly, though her heart fluttered in her chest. “yeah, just… nervous, i guess. it’s a bit overwhelming, coming back here.” the memories were almost too much—yet she knew jude would be there to catch her if she fell. his warmth and confidence always soothed the anxieties she hadn’t quite let go of.

jude’s hand found hers, gently giving it a squeeze. “you’ve got this. and hey, you’re not that same girl anymore. you’ve got a life you’ve built. you’ve got me. so, whatever happens in there—we got this.” his smile was warm, steady.

she nodded, her heart calming a little under the strength of his reassuring presence. “thank you,” she whispered, feeling the gentleness of his support course through her.

when they entered the venue, the familiar buzz of voices was louder than she expected. the gymnasium—the place where she had always lingered by the edges of the crowd—had been transformed for the reunion, but it still carried the same sense of nostalgia and unease. the noise didn’t stop when they entered. no, it quickly escalated into murmurs, quickly followed by gasps and hushed conversation as her old classmates processed the sight of them.

“wait… is that jude bellingham?” she heard someone say under their breath, the tone an odd mix of surprise and disbelief. it wasn’t like jude wasn’t famous, but she couldn’t quite suppress the sudden feeling of being under a spotlight, her past self suddenly being evaluated against this new version she had built.

“wait a minute, is that—” another voice piped up, a bit louder. “she’s with him? no way. this is crazy.”

suddenly, everything about the reunion felt too much, like she was back in high school for all the wrong reasons—under scrutiny, exposed to the gossipy whispers. but when she turned to jude, she found him completely unfazed, his face calm and reassuring. his hand gently curled around hers again, his fingers entwining with hers as he led her through the crowd.

“let’s take it easy. we’re here to have fun,” he murmured softly, as if to remind her there was no reason to worry, that the stares and whispers didn’t matter. still, the tightness in her chest didn’t fully ease as they made their way deeper into the hall. and then, of course, it happened.

nate. of course it was him.

she had seen him from a distance—a face that would forever be linked to the teasing and mockery from her younger years. the smugness in his smile, the way he walked with that brash, confident air, brought it all flooding back. she couldn’t help but bristle as he weaved his way through the crowd, his eyes landing on her with that unmistakable sneer she knew so well.

“well, well, if it isn’t the quiet girl who thought no one would notice her,” nate said, leaning forward with his arms crossed. his voice was louder than before, punctuated with that mocking laugh that still grated on her after all these years.

she squared her shoulders, meeting his gaze evenly, but her heart was pounding. she wanted to respond—really respond—but the memories of her high school self threatened to stifle her words.

“you’ve done well for yourself, huh?” nate continued, his eyes trailing over jude briefly before resting on her again, the smirk not leaving his lips. “didn’t expect you to end up with a guy like him. seems… out of place, don’t you think?” he laughed again, as if she’d just become the punchline of an old joke.

for a split second, her gut twisted in frustration and vulnerability. she had worked so hard to move past everything nate represented, but sometimes it was easy to feel like that quiet, unsure girl again—especially with him standing there, grinning like she wasn’t good enough.

but just before she could respond, jude moved, the energy shifting as he closed the distance between them. with effortless ease, he stepped forward, positioning himself just behind her. she felt the comforting heat of his body pressing against her back, and in that moment, a sudden wave of relief washed over her. his calm presence enveloped her like a blanket, his very proximity pushing away the anxiety.

jude’s hands found her waist gently, but firmly, resting there as he spoke in a soft, steady voice that carried a quiet but undeniable power.

“i think you need to remember something,” jude said evenly, not raising his voice, but letting his words hang in the air. his tone was firm, protective. “you have no right to talk to her like that. she’s amazing. and you don’t get to undermine her. not on my watch.”

the crowd around them seemed to grow still. he didn’t shout, didn’t make a scene—he didn’t need to. there was something almost effortless in the way jude claimed his position beside her. he wasn’t just her boyfriend, trying to defend her for the sake of it—he was a man who genuinely believed in her and made sure everyone around them knew it.

nate stood there, caught off guard, the confrontation falling to the ground between them. the smugness on his face faltered, and for a brief moment, the arrogance of his words evaporated. he shifted his weight, his shoulders tightening, before letting out a forced laugh.

“yeah, okay, man. whatever,” nate mumbled, avoiding jude’s unflinching gaze. with one final glance in her direction—less sure now—he turned on his heel, weaving through the crowd without another word.

as soon as he disappeared into the room, jude gently pulled her closer, his hands still resting on her hips as if grounding her in the moment. she turned, her eyes searching his for a trace of something—anything—but all she found was tenderness.

“are you alright?” jude asked, his voice low, full of concern, as he looked down at her. his brown eyes were warm, sincere.

she didn’t answer right away, her throat too tight with emotion. but after a deep, shaky breath, she nodded, pressing her face against his chest. “yeah. i just… i forgot what that felt like, you know? having someone try to drag me back to that place.”

jude brushed a hand gently over her hair, kissing the top of her head, his voice a soothing whisper. “you don’t ever have to go back there, not while i’m here. you’re so much more than they’ll ever realize. and i’m not going anywhere.”

her breath hitched at his words, and as the sounds of the reunion picked up again in the background, she didn’t feel the weight of the past anymore. jude had held her through the sting, had quietly and protectively shown her the strength she had long hidden. together, nothing seemed impossible.

his touch on her back was warm, steady. “let’s have a good time tonight, okay?” he murmured, pressing another soft kiss to her forehead.

she pulled back slightly, smiling softly as she looked up at him. “yeah,” she whispered, finding her voice again. “yeah, let’s.”

and with that, they walked forward together, facing whatever came next. this time, together.

[sidekick-hero]

First Love, Second Chance

(steddie | teen | tags: exes to lovers, canon divergence (Eddie lives), future fic (set 2001) | Part 3)

Part 1 | Part 2

“Ah, yes, here you are, Mr. Munson,” Joanne said, glancing up from her clipboard. Her eyes flicked from Eddie to Steve, and a knowing smile spread across her face. “And what a coincidence, since you two obviously know each other.”

Steve’s heart seemed to skip a beat, his stomach doing a nervous flip. He didn’t dare looking over at Eddie, afraid of what he’d find on the still familiar face. Joanne continued, oblivious to the tension crackling in the air. “You’re sitting right next to each other. Isn’t that nice?” She looked at them with a bright, expectant expression, as if she’d just announced they’d won some kind of prize.

It wasn’t until they learned they weren’t actually a match that Steve realized just how much he’d been hoping for a fairy tale ending. Him and Eddie, stumbling into each other’s lives again after almost a decade, brought back together by fate and some cosmic joke of the universe. It was the kind of story that only seemed to happen in the cheesy romance movies El loved so much, the ones Steve always claimed he hated but secretly got sucked into. But real life wasn’t like the movies. The only time his life had felt cinematic was during the nightmares of the Upside Down, and he’d had enough of that particular genre.

“Oh…” Eddie’s voice broke through Steve’s thoughts, and he glanced up, startled by the look of genuine disappointment on Eddie’s face. “Are you— I mean, could you, uh, check again? Just in case, y’know?” Eddie stammered, his fingers drumming nervously on his thighs. “Maybe they made a mistake or… or something.”

Joanne dutifully checked her clipboard again, her eyes scanning the page with the same polite smile still fixed on her face. “I’m sorry, Mr. Munson. Everything seems to be in order.”

“Thank you, Joanne,” Steve cut in quickly, before Eddie could press the issue any further. It wasn’t her fault that the universe hadn’t conspired in their favor. “It was still… nice seeing you again, Eds. You look good. I mean, you look well. That’s good,” he stammered, catching himself too late. He needed to end this awkward little scene before it got any worse. “We shouldn’t keep our dates waiting.”

Sure enough, while they’d been caught up in their unexpected reunion, their actual dates had arrived. Steve’s attention shifted to the woman now sitting at his table — she was attractive, with dark curls and bright blue eyes, dressed in a simple outfit of jeans, sneakers, and a white shirt. He liked that immediately; she looked relaxed, approachable. When she caught his gaze, she gave him a warm, genuine smile, a dimple appearing at the corner of her mouth.

“You’re right,” Eddie said, noticing where Steve’s eyes had gone. He rested a hand on Steve’s shoulder, the metal of his rings cool against Steve’s skin, even through the fabric of his shirt. “I didn’t expect to see you here, but… I’m glad I did. You look good, too. Maybe we could, uh, catch up sometime. I’m new in the city, so I’m… you know, available. For whatever, whenever. And I’m gonna stop talking now.”

With a quick, embarrassed grin, Eddie turned away and headed toward his own table, where his date was already waiting. The man was tall, towering over both Steve and Eddie by at least a head, with tattoos snaking up his arms and across his neck. He was dressed head-to-toe in black, but despite his imposing appearance, he had the vibe of a friendly Saint Bernard — big, scruffy, and unexpectedly warm. The way he greeted Eddie, with an excited smile and a hand lingering just a little longer than necessary, suggested he was more than eager to make a good impression.

Something twisted deep in Steve's chest — regret, maybe, or that stubborn, lingering hope he couldn’t quite shake. But he forced himself to turn back to his date, determined to stay in the present. He was here to meet new people, to start fresh. That was the whole point, right?

Good intentions only got him so far, though. As the evening went on, it became harder and harder to keep his focus solely on Lisa, who certainly deserved better. From what Steve could tell, she was a great person — grounded and practical like Nancy, but with a quick wit and an idealism he found refreshing. She’d been signed up by a friend, too, and was still recovering from a past relationship, just like him. Though he didn’t tell her his own “formative heartbreak” was sitting just a few feet away, laughing that deep, infectious laugh Steve used to love so much.

Lisa worked for a non-profit that helped homeless people get back on their feet — too many in Chicago, especially kids, which was her main focus. They were just discussing her dream of having at least two children, a girl and a boy, when Steve felt Eddie’s gaze on him. Eddie’s date had gone to the bathroom, and it seemed like he’d been listening in on their conversation.

Steve’s desire for kids had been one of the main sticking points between him and Eddie. Not because Eddie didn’t like kids — if anything, Eddie adored them. They had practically co-parented Dustin, Lucas, Max, and the rest of the gang, and Eddie had a natural ease with them that had only made Steve fall harder. But Eddie had been convinced they’d never be allowed to adopt — not just because they were two men, but because of the lingering cloud of those old murder accusations, even though they’d been dismissed. No matter how often Steve had reassured him, saying, Sure, I want kids, but I want you more, it hadn’t been enough. He could have been happy just being a godparent to the next generation of kids. And who knew what the future held? The world was changing, more progressive than Eddie gave it credit for.

But it hadn’t helped. When they’d finally called it quits, Eddie had said, “At least now you can find someone to have your six nuggets with.” The words had stung too much for Steve to respond then, but they came back to him now.

“You know, I always wanted kids,” Steve began, looking at Lisa but knowing Eddie could hear him too. “But since I started working as a kindergarten teacher, I realized I don’t necessarily need any of my own. There are so many kids out there who could use some extra love and attention, and I’m happy to be able to give that to them, even if they’re not mine. My best friend always says we don’t have to live by the conventional ideas of family. We can make our own, however we want it to be. And I think she’s right.”

He said it to Lisa, but he hoped Eddie heard the message, too — that some dreams could change shape, and some things could still be possible, even if they didn’t look like what they’d once imagined.

Steve chanced another glance over at Eddie’s table and wasn’t surprised to find Eddie already looking back at him, his gaze intent, like he wanted to say something. But before the moment could lead to anything, Eddie’s date reappeared from the bathroom, and the connection snapped.

With effort, Steve pulled his eyes back to Lisa, who was watching the whole exchange with a puzzled look. She paused, then placed her small hand over his, her touch surprisingly steady.

“That’s a great way of looking at it, Steve,” she said softly. “I think your best friend is right. And trust me, with the work I do, I totally understand. There are so many children out there who need love, support, and attention. You’re a good guy.”

You’re a good guy.

The words echoed in his mind, pulling him back to another time, another place — back to when Eddie had said those very same words. Eddie, who hadn’t known him for more than a few days and who had every reason to hate him after high school. But somehow, Eddie had been the first to see that he had changed, the first to say it out loud, right when Steve needed to hear it most.

It seemed Eddie hadn’t stopped eavesdropping, because at that moment he stood up from his table, heading toward the bathroom. As he passed Steve, his hand brushed against Steve’s shoulder, just a quick squeeze, but enough to feel like a silent message — like Eddie still agreed with the sentiment, even after everything that had happened between them.

Watching Eddie walk away, Steve felt a rush of clarity, a sudden understanding he’d been resisting for too long. This was bullshit, as Nancy would say. All of it. He didn’t want a fresh start or someone new to help him get over his first big love. Maybe that would’ve been the logical thing, the sensible thing to do.

But when had Steve ever listened to anything but his heart? And his heart was screaming at him not to let Eddie slip away again.

Part 4

[divinitysotherside]

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

PRAISE ME , KING !

⋆˚✿˖° . the king of curses, ryomen sukuna, is actually gentle?

a/n . go easy on me this is my first time writing smut :) (it’s kinda obvious)

contents . reader is an adult , soft!sukuna

warnings . mentions of abuse , gentle sukuna , trueform!sukuna , fingering , unprotected sex , praise , p in v sex

Ryomen Sukuna was known by a lot of people, not in a good way. He was feared, and even the bravest of all couldn’t help but melt under his piercing gaze. Sukuna had multiple servants, ahem, and concubines.

One day, the people of the West Village came by his mansion to give their offering to the King of Curses. A concubine.

Sukuna eyed the man who led you to the throne, bowing down in front of the marked beast. “Alright, just get to the point. What’dya have for me?” Sukuna grumbles, sighing.

“H–here she is.” The man spoke, voice shaking with fear. He gestures over to you, who was just standing there and looking at the ground.

Sukuna observes you for a short bit, before shrugging. “You can get out now.” He gestures over, and the man quickly came running away.

“Alright, let’s see if you’re any good.” Sukuna stands up from his throne, approaching you. He grabs your chin and forces you to look up at him, making his grin fade.

“You look.. soulless.” Sukuna commented, tilting your head around for further inspection. The thing that caught him off-guard was your eyes. They had.. no emotion. Almost as if it was soulless.

Due to Sukuna’s orders, Uraume led you to your new room. “Lord Sukuna will be requesting your presence later. Please prepare yourself.” Uraume bowed, before leaving your room.

After a few minutes of you just silently sitting in your room, Uraume knocked on your door, before opening it. “Lord Sukuna is now in need of your presence.”

Walking to his room, Uraume opens the door, letting you step in. As soon as the door closed, the faint sound of Uraume leaving was the only thing that you could hear.

It was awkward, standing there, while the King of Curses was looking at you. “Come,” he gestures over to you, and you hesitantly step forward.

When you reached him, Sukuna grabbed your wrist. “Let’s train you, concubine.” He mutters, pulling you closer to him.

He put his large hand on the back of your head, pulling you closer. When his rough lips pressed against your softer ones, you felt surprised. Despite his monstrous appearance, he was unexpectedly gentle.

Your eyes widen, and you find yourself kissing him back.

Sukuna wasn’t any beginner with these, as expected, but he surely wasn’t expecting you to kiss back. You looked so soulless, so hurt.

But I guess this was the first time you were treated gently.

He slowly, carefully placed you on his bed, his tongue continuing to ravage yours. Sukuna finally pulled away, a string of saliva marking as evidence to your lips’ encounter.

He began to take off the robe you’re wearing. Rough, calloused hands untying the knot of your clothing. Sukuna leaned down, pressing soft kisses on your ear.

“Is this okay?” He asked, looking into your soulless eyes. Sukuna knew they did something to you, but he’ll deal with that later.

As you were left bare before him, he grabbed your thigh and pushed it back, positioning you in a mating press.

He paused, though. Sukuna thought of how fragile you were, and maybe.. he’ll stretch you out first, so you can take him. Even though he wasn’t a fan of stretching, he liked to see his concubines scream in pain as his cock splits them open.. but you’re different.. in a way.

Sukuna’s other hand sneaked down between your legs, rubbing your wet slit. You squirmed underneath him, but he held you down. Pushing one of his fingers in, he felt how tight you were.

Fuck, you could barely take one finger. He’ll spend a bit of time stretching. “Relax f’me, ’kay? This won’t hurt if you just relax..” Sukuna coos, a second finger prodding at your entrance.

“Hnngh—noo..” You whined, attempting to run away. “Relax, relax.” He whispered, pushing the second finger in. Sukuna whispered sweet nothings in your ear as he stretched you, his long fingers curling in your walls as you came. “Mm, good girl.”

Wait a damn minute. If you were a concubine offering, why the fuck did they not stretch you out before you were offered? Sukuna scoffed, knowing he’ll turn that village into ruins after this.

After you were properly stretched, Sukuna pulled his fingers out of you, kissing your tears away. “See? Wasn’t so bad, no?”

He positioned himself, the head of his cock prodding at your entrance. “Shh, shh.. relax, I’ll go slow.” Sukuna slowly pushed in, his dick disappearing inside of you. “Shit.. this cunt’s eatin’ me up..”

“Fuck,” he cursed, pausing to let you adjust. You sobbed, tears streaming down your flushed face. “Don’t cry, it’s okay..” Sukuna mutters, wiping away your tears with his thumb.

When he finally buried himself fully inside of you, he groaned, gripping your thighs. “Aight, ya ready?” Sukuna asked you first, waiting for you to nod before pulling out where only his tip is in, and thrusting back in.

He continued this pace, slowly thrusting into you. Sukuna can’t lie, even though he prefers it rough, he feels good. Maybe it’s your cunt? Or the pace he’s setting up? Either way, he’s enjoying himself.

He leaned down, capturing your lips in a messy kiss. You wrap your tiny arms around him, his cock still thrusting in and out of your pussy. “Fuck, fuck.. makin’ me feel amazing..”

Just as he’s about to cum, he pulls out, the white spurts landing on your stomach and thighs. Sukuna pants, that was incredible. But.. how?

He looks at your face, giving your jaw gentle kisses before finally cleaning you up.

It wasn’t like Sukuna to go soft on these trainings, but he just felt this random urge to be nice to you. He’ll manage with this soft side.. for you.

You slept in his bed, but Sukuna could care less. He knew that the way your soulless eyes widened earlier was because.. that village hurt you.

He will definitely come back to that village to destroy it, but for now, all he sees is your sleeping form.