#''caused it to form a lot of stars and then just shut down'' is the most scientific description of heartache i have ever heard

[snowshinobi]

"Andromeda's a train wreck. It looks like it has been through some kind of event that caused it to form a lot of stars and then just shut down," said Daniel Weisz at the University of California, Berkeley. "This was probably due to a collision with another galaxy in the neighborhood."

damn. what a bad breakup does to a galaxy i guess

(source: x)

[levanterhaze]

GAMEBOY — BANGCHAN

♡  ― 󠀬󠀬 fratboy!bangchan x f!reader a loooot of sexual tension, oral sex (m. receiving), fingering, handjob, a lot of curse words, dirty talk.

♡ synopsis ― Bangchan is the campus playboy—charming, cocky, and infuriatingly irresistible. One reckless, drunken night leads to a secret you swore you'd never have. Now, hating him is harder than keeping him your dirty little secret.

[7.4k words ]♡― guys, i'm very grateful that you enjoyed gameboy. thanks to everyone who asked to be on the taglist, to everyone who is deeply involved in the story (just like me). here's another chapter. the third of this journey. don't forget to listen to the playlist and those who just got here PLEASE READ THE PREVIOUS CHAPTERS!!!! that said, have a good read.

♡― THE PLAYLIST.

♡ [part one] ♡ [part two]

We'll be dancin' with the shadows in the night The stars are jealous knowing that you’re by my side Feel the adrenaline, acceleration In the course, we’ll be drivin' so rough

The whole campus buzzed like it had just been cast as extras in Magic Mike: College Edition.

Nahee appeared with her basket of brownies, practically vibrating with excitement. You had floated the idea to your theater crew, and, much to your delight, they had all rallied behind it.

“This,” she said, scanning the chaotic crowd, “is the sluttiest thing I’ve ever seen.” She turned to you, her grin devilish. “And I love it.”

The scene was pandemonium. The entire basketball team had ditched their shirts, creating a spectacle that rivaled any reality dating show. Lines formed instantly—three people deep for each boy, regardless of who they were. Men, women, professors who “just happened to be walking by”—no one was immune. A few of the boys even posed for photos, flexing like they were auditioning for a particularly steamy firefighter calendar.

“This has a countdown clock before someone shuts it down,” you said, arms crossed, though you couldn’t stop your lips from twitching.

“Let them try,” Eunji sighed, fanning herself dramatically. “This is art. This is community service. This is visual serotonin.”

“Speaking of the devil…” Nahee tilted her head, gesturing with the slightest nod.

You followed her gaze and immediately wished you hadn’t. Bangchan was front and center, a walking thirst trap without even trying. His arms, all defined muscle and veins, moved in practiced ease as he handed out brownies with that easy smile of his. His shoulders looked like they could carry half the student body, and his wet, glistening torso was proof he either took this way too seriously or knew exactly what he was doing. Either way, the guy was impossible to ignore.

You tilted your head, feigning indifference despite the warmth creeping up your neck. “Guess some people can’t help themselves, huh?”

Nahee smirked, not buying it for a second. “Some people, indeed.”

You hated to admit it, but he was a natural. Flashing easy smiles, throwing in effortless charm, making every girl swoon just enough to dig into their wallets a little faster. All he had on were sweatpants slung low on his hips and his cap turned backward—just unfair, really.

Not that it mattered. You weren’t talking. There was nothing to talk about. And yet, after the kiss, everything had shifted. Bangchan had distanced himself like you were a plague, and for once, he wasn’t even trying to get under your skin.

You stole glances when you thought he wouldn’t notice, hating the way every passing hand seemed to have permission to touch him. He didn’t look at you once. And knowing him, that meant something.

The sun was relentless, making the whole shirtless thing almost justifiable. You, Eunji, Nahee, and Sohee made your rounds across campus, hustling for the theater fund. But let’s be real—nobody cared about the cause.

They wanted six-packs and pretty smiles.

You were so busy pretending not to notice Bangchan’s every move that you almost missed the presence looming beside you.

“Hey,” Mingyu greeted, arms crossed, his signature grin firmly in place. “Got one of those brownies for me?”

“Of course,” you said, grabbing a brownie and passing it to him. He handed you a bill, and the weight of it made you freeze. That wasn’t just a regular bill—it was way too much.

“Uh, I think you might’ve made a mistake…” you started, holding it up.

“No mistake,” he cut in smoothly. “I’m buying the whole basket.”

You blinked. Once. Twice. “I’m sorry, what now?” you glanced at the basket, then back at him. “You want to buy all of them?”

“You heard me.” he shrugged, his tone so casual it bordered on infuriating.

Your brow arched instinctively, your internal lie detector pinging. Still, you weren’t about to complain about a sale this good. Slowly, you held the basket out to him, trying to mask your suspicion with a polite smile.

But Mingyu just shook his head, taking a bite of the brownie in his hand. “Keep it,” he said, licking the corner of his mouth. “I didn’t buy them for the brownies.”

The corner of your mouth twitched, your sass kicking in to override your confusion. “Oh, right. I forgot. They pair perfectly with a little showing off.”

He laughed, leaning in slightly. “Maybe. Or maybe I just wanted a reason to talk to the cutest seller here.”

“You know, flattery works better when you actually take the brownies.”

“I’ve got what I wanted,” he teased, taking another bite.

As much as you wanted to roll your eyes, you couldn’t hide your smirk. A sale was a sale, even if the customer was a little too smooth for his own good.

You stood there, momentarily stunned. Someone had just dropped a ridiculous amount of money on brownies—out of nowhere—and then decided you could keep both the cash and the sweets. Suspicious? Absolutely. But were you going to argue? Not a chance.

With a smug grin, you strolled across the lawn, basket in one hand and Mingyu’s absurdly generous payment in the other. The whole thing felt like an easy win—until a strange heat crawled up your spine, prickling your skin like the sun had suddenly gotten personal.

You turned your head, and there he was. Bangchan. Watching you.

And for the first time all day, he wasn’t smirking. No teasing, no cocky grin—just something sharp in his gaze, something dark curling at the edges.

Bangchan had never been the clingy type. He wasn’t the guy who caught feelings, overanalyzed texts, or lost sleep over someone who didn’t want him back.

Relationships? Fun while they lasted. Breakups? Mutual and drama-free. Ever since college started, he’d embraced the single and thriving lifestyle—no strings, no complications, no mess.

And sure, people talked. About his skills on the court, his grades, his leadership. But mostly, about his other talents. The ones that kept his phone buzzing at ungodly hours, filled with invitations that had nothing to do with basketball.

Bangchan never minded the attention. He never cared—until the only girl he actually wanted looked at him like he was just another name on a list.

Like he was forgettable.

What the hell was he doing wrong? He was a good guy. A loyal friend. A straight-A student. A goddamn basketball prodigy.

So why weren’t you interested? Why were you the only one immune?

He wanted to push, to test your limits, to make you see him the way he saw you. But that wasn’t his style.

He knew when to start and when to stop. And right now? He was dangerously close to crossing that line.

Bangchan wasn’t asking for much. Just a moment—one real, uninterrupted conversation with you. No sharp comebacks, no teasing deflections. Just you, stripped of the armor you wore so well.

But that wasn’t your style, was it? You never made things easy.

It all started when Hyunjin, the group’s reigning drama king, decided to join the theater. Naturally, he demanded a full entourage for moral support, which was how Bangchan ended up in that stuffy auditorium, sitting between Seungmin, Changbin, and Jeongin, watching Hyunjin pour his soul into a song like he was auditioning for Broadway itself.

He was good. Of course, he was good. Velvet-voiced, graceful, with a presence that demanded attention. The second he finished, Bangchan was ready to get up, clap him on the back, and drag him out for celebratory food—

Until you stepped onto the stage.

He didn’t know your name yet. Didn’t know anything about you. But there you were, in knee-high boots and a white dress, angelical, standing under the spotlight like you owned it.

Then, you started to sing. I’ll Be Over You. Soft, rich, and powerful all at once.

And just like that, Bangchan was gone.

He wasn’t used to losing—not in basketball, not in academics, and definitely not when it came to people. So when he finally got close enough to talk to you, he expected… well, something.

Maybe intrigue. Maybe mild annoyance. Fuck, he would’ve taken playful exasperation.

But you? You loathed him.

The realization hit like a punch to the gut. Any hope of friendship, of even standing on neutral ground, went up in flames. You always had a comeback locked and loaded, always deflected, always avoided his gaze like it might set you on fire.

And maybe it would.

Because that sharp tongue of yours? The way you kept him at arm’s length, like he wasn’t worth a second glance? It only made him want to push harder.

So fine. If you were going to make him fight for every inch, he’d play along.

He just needed to know—was this all just a game to you? Or were you just as afraid of losing as he was?

The bar was buzzing, laughter and conversation mixing with the clink of glasses and the steady thump of music. You were comfortably wedged between Sohee and Eunji, their arms draped around you like you were some rare artifact they had to protect at all costs.

You were tipsy, maybe a little emotional, but mostly just basking in the warmth of the people around you. Tonight wasn’t about stress or overthinking. It was about celebrating a well-earned victory.

"I can't even describe how happy I am, guys," you sighed, raising your glass with a lazy smile. "You are, without a doubt, the best friends a girl could have."

Eunji and Sohee groaned dramatically, tightening their hold on you. "You’re lucky we love you," Eunji grumbled. "And that we’re good at handling your emotional soju phases."

"I mean it," you insisted, half-dramatic, half-serious. "We did it! We have enough to keep the theater running until Mrs. Baek finds a permanent solution."

Your gaze flitted across the table, landing on Seungmin and Hyunjin. "None of this would’ve happened without you."

“We’re a fucking team!” Changbin declared, slamming his hand on the table with the confidence of a man three shots past his limit. "And you know what that means? Another round!"

The table erupted in cheers, and for a moment, everything felt right. Until you felt it. That pull. That heat at the back of your neck, like someone had just flipped a switch.

You knew before you even turned. Bangchan was here.

You refused to acknowledge him. Absolutely not. You were having a great time, and he—well, he was an occupational hazard. A walking, talking disruption to your peace.

"Channie!" Felix called, pulling him further into the group. "Finally decided to show up, huh?"

You still didn’t look. Instead, you took a long sip of your drink and focused on the condensation trailing down your glass, as if it were the most interesting thing in the world.

But Bangchan had never been one to be ignored.

"You didn’t think I'd come?" his voice slid into the conversation so smoothly it sent a shiver down your spine.

You took your time—because if he was going to show up and be smug about it, you could at least make him wait. Finally, you turned, meeting his eyes head-on. "Didn’t think you’d dare."

He smirked, leaning just a little closer, like he was waiting for you to react. You didn’t.

But your pulse? Yeah, that was another story.

Bangchan leaned back in his seat, a lazy smile tugging at his lips as he watched his friends celebrate. He should’ve felt the same rush of excitement, the same weightless joy—but his mind was elsewhere. The relentless pressure of basketball training sat heavy on his chest, and the gnawing anxiety that came with it refused to let go.

And then there was you.

Standing there, effortlessly stunning, laughing like the world had never touched you. Just close enough to see, but never close enough to reach.

When Changbin made his way to the bar for another round, you followed, craving something non-alcoholic to cut through the buzz in your head. He glanced at you as you stepped up beside him.

“Happy?” he asked, arms crossed, an amused glint in his eye.

You grinned, light and unburdened in a way Bangchan hadn’t seen in a while. “Very. Thanks for all the help.”

Changbin shook his head with a smirk. “You should be thanking my boy over there.”

Your brows knitted together as you followed his gaze. Bangchan, mid-laugh, his head thrown back at something Jisung said. Carefree. Unbothered. Completely unaware that your entire world had just tilted on its axis.

“What?”

“He basically forced the team to join the sale,” Changbin said, voice thick with the weight of alcohol and honesty. “Said it was to help a friend.”

Your stomach did something weird—tightened, flipped, something you weren’t prepared for.

The memory hit like a slow-motion replay. Bangchan barged into your dorm, smug as ever, announcing he had dragged the entire basketball team into your little fundraising mess. You had assumed it was for Hyunjin and Seungmin. Maybe even for some ego boost, a reason to flash that damn smirk of his.

But no. A friend.

“Really?”

Changbin snorted. “What? You think he went out selling brownies half-naked just for fun?”

You forced a laugh, but your smile didn’t quite stick. Something about it—about him—felt different now.

Changbin walked off with his four bottles of soju, leaving you behind, still leaning against the counter, replaying his words in your head. It was almost offensive to think of Bangchan as anything other than his usual self—cocky, overconfident, annoyingly self-assured. Your brain outright rejected the idea that he could be good. That he could do something selfless without expecting anything in return.

And yet, here you were, stuck with the uncomfortable realization that maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t the villain you’d made him out to be.

Letting your guard down was one thing. Admitting you’d been wrong? That was the real battle.

You made your way back to the table, feeling just sober enough to regret this night’s life-altering discoveries. Sliding onto the edge of your seat, you watched as Jisung threw himself into a chair, already deep in the throes of drunken confidence.

“I’m feeling karaoke,” he announced, slurring just a little. “Who’s in?”

One by one, the group rose, fueled by alcohol and poor decision-making. Bangchan stood up last, and as he did, your hand found his arm, barely brushing over the smooth leather of his jacket.

“Hey,” you said quietly. “Can we talk?”

He blinked, caught off guard. For a second, he just stared, as if trying to decipher whether this was some kind of elaborate prank. Then, he glanced at the others heading toward the karaoke booth and nodded.

“Later,” he murmured. “That okay?”

You swallowed, suddenly unsure why your heartbeat had decided to play double time.

“Yeah,” you said, too quickly. “That’s… yeah. Sure.”

The night had escalated quickly. One minute, everyone was just vibing at Kooler’s, and the next, you were crammed into a karaoke room, neon lights flashing, Sohee absolutely butchering a ballad while Eunji screamed in horror.

The mic passed around until it somehow ended up in your hands.

“Oh, no,” you said immediately. “I don’t sing in public.”

“Ma’am,” Eunji deadpanned. “You’re in the drama club.”

“Yeah, for acting,” you retorted. “Not for embarrassing myself in front of—”

But then the opening notes of Breaking Free started playing, and the room lost it.

“Oh, you have to sing now,” Changbin cackled.

“We’re literally living a High School Musical moment!” Sohee clapped.

Then, the real nightmare happened. Bangchan grabbed the second mic.

The room erupted.

“TROY AND GABRIELLA, LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!” Eunji announced like a sports commentator.

“Nope.” you stood up, but Jisung pushed you back onto the couch.

“You must embrace destiny,” he said solemnly.

Bangchan, ever the performer, smirked at you before dramatically bringing the mic to his lips. “We’re soarin’, flyin’—”

You covered your face with both hands. “Kill me.”

“That’s not the lyrics,” Changbin howled.

The moment Bangchan began to sing, his voice smooth and steady, you felt it—the tiny spark igniting between you, the way his presence pulled you in no matter how hard you tried to resist. His voice wrapped around the lyrics effortlessly, making them sound less like a cheesy high school musical duet and more like something real, something raw.

Then it was your turn.

Bangchan stilled for a moment, eyes widening slightly as you sang your part. He had always known you had a great voice—it was impossible not to, given how much time you spent in the theater club—but hearing you like this, just the two of you, no stage, no rehearsals, just you—it was mesmerizing.

God, you sounded unreal.

His chest tightened at how effortlessly you carried each note, how your voice blended with his in a way that made his skin prickle. You weren’t just singing—you were feeling it, even if you tried to hide behind an indifferent mask. He could see it in the way your body moved slightly to the music, in the way your lips curled at certain lyrics.

And fuck, he felt it too.

As the song picked up, the energy between you both crackled. Your voices melted together in harmony, and the chemistry was undeniable. You tried not to look at him, tried to focus on the screen, but every time you did, Bangchan was already looking at you, that damned smirk still in place.

When the chorus hit, something inside you gave in just a little. The moment was too fun, too infectious, and before you knew it, you were actually enjoying yourself.

You didn’t notice the way Bangchan’s gaze softened.

He saw through you, saw the way you let your guard down, even for just a second. And maybe it was the adrenaline, or the alcohol, or the way your voice wrapped around his in the final harmonized note, but Bangchan couldn’t stop himself from grinning like an idiot as you finished the song.

And that’s when all hell broke loose.

Everyone jumped up like it was the Super Bowl. Eunji was sobbing dramatically into Hyunjin’s shoulder. Changbin was standing on the couch, pointing like an old man watching his grandkids do something historic.

“Troy and Gabriella could never!”

When the song ended, the room was feral.

“That was the single most important moment of my life,” Eunji declared, visibly drunk and happy.

“I think I just saw God,” Felix wheezed.

Meanwhile, you just handed the mic to Eunji, turned to Bangchan, and muttered, “I hate you.”

He leaned in, voice low enough for only you to hear. “Sure you do.”

You’d excused yourself under the guise of needing a breather, but really, you just needed a damn second to exist without someone screaming lyrics in your ear or pulling you into another round of shots. The night was fun, but it was loud, and if you wanted to make it through, you needed a minute to reset.

The balcony was empty, save for the faint scent of nicotine lingering in the air. You took a deep breath, letting the cool breeze settle against your skin, grounding yourself. The city hummed below, distant and detached, and for a second, you just… let yourself be.

Then, before you even opened your eyes, you felt  him.

That ridiculously familiar cologne. The one that had been all over you. On his t-shirt. In your space. In your head.

“Is our rockstar already tapped out?”

You turned just in time to see Bangchan leaning back against the railing, watching you with that look.

“A little.” you waved a hand dismissively, but your small smile gave you away.

His was softer, quieter than usual, but still there. Still undeniably him. And the way his eyes swept over you in the dim light? Yeah. You could feel it. The way he noticed things, details, like he was cataloging every inch of you.

It should’ve annoyed you. But tonight? Tonight, it didn’t.

“Heard you wanted to talk to me.”

You raised a brow, suddenly remembering why you had pulled him aside in the first place. “Right. Think I owe you an apology.”

Bangchan’s expression flickered with surprise. “For what?”

“You know what.”

“Do I?” he leaned in slightly, nodding as if urging you to continue. “You should be clearer.”

You exhaled, hating how hard it was to say it. Vulnerability has never been your strong suit.

“Fine.” you glanced down at your boots, gathering your thoughts. “I know you convinced the basketball team to help with the sale. I assumed the worst about you, and that wasn’t fair. So… I’m sorry. You really helped me.”

Silence.

When you looked up, Bangchan was staring at you like you’d just told him the sky was green. Confused. A little offended. Like that was what you thought needed an apology.

“That’s what you’re apologizing for?”

You blinked, confused. “What else should I apologize for?”

Bangchan let out a dry, humorless laugh, running a hand through his hair before whispering a low, exasperated “fuck you.”

Your eyes narrowed. His arms crossed over his chest, the leather of his jacket tightening around his sleeves as he shifted against the ledge.

“What was that?” you demanded.

“Look, I appreciate the apology, really. But that’s not the thing you should be apologizing for.”

Oh, he was so good at pissing you off. Always had been.

“Then be clearer,” you shot back, arms folding tightly over your chest.

“Alright.” Bangchan turned to you fully, gaze locked in, voice steady. Too steady. “Let’s talk about your habit of coming after me and then bolting the second it gets real.”

Your jaw clenched. “I never—”

“For fuck’s sake, be for real. At the party? In my dorm? I’m not saying I didn’t want it—fuck, I wanted it. But so did you. And then you acted like it was a mistake. You run from things.”

His words landed like a punch to the stomach—sharp, direct, impossible to ignore. You blinked hard, fighting the sting behind your eyes, but you had nothing. No witty comeback, no escape route. Just the weight of the truth between you.

Maybe he was right. Maybe you did want this—him. The way he looked at you like he could devour you whole, the way his hands knew exactly where to go, the way your body reacts before your mind could stop it. You wanted it. You wanted him. But wanting didn’t make it easy.

“Why are you mad?”

“Why?” he let out a sharp laugh, shaking his head. “Because it’s fucking frustrating, that’s why. You can’t make up your damn mind.”

You exhaled slowly, trying to steady yourself, but your heart was hammering.

“It’s not that simple,” you muttered, voice quieter now, the anger slipping into something else. “Not for me.”

“Why? Because you hate me?” his lips curled, amused despite himself. “Which, by the way, I’d love to hear all those bullshit reasons why.”

“Is that really what matters?” you lifted your chin, defiant.

“So what, you’ve just decided you’re gonna hate me forever?”

“Maybe I will,” you shot back, voice dripping with venom.

Bangchan smirked, stepping in closer, slow and deliberate, like a predator cornering its prey. He leaned against the railing, his body angled toward yours, closing in just enough to make you breathless. "Hate to break it to you, love," his voice was low, dripping with amusement, "but people don’t usually fuck their enemies."

That voice. That damned voice—soft as silk, smooth as sin, and dangerous enough to make your pulse stutter.

Heat coiled in your stomach, spreading like wildfire, your body betraying you instantly. No. You weren’t going to let him win this.

"You’re right," you said, tilting your chin up, feigning nonchalance. "Which is why it’s never happening again."

A bold-faced lie. One you both saw through immediately. Because no matter how much you tried to ignore it, your mind was already spinning with memories—his hands, his mouth, the way your bodies fit together like a perfect crime.

Bangchan chuckled, dark and knowing. He moved closer, close enough that you could feel his breath graze your lips, your senses drowning in him—the scent of his cologne, the warmth radiating off his skin, the sheer audacity in his gaze.

"That’s a shame," he murmured, eyes flicking to your lips, "because we’ve got insane bed chem."

You swallowed hard. You didn’t know what was doing you in—the teasing rasp of his voice, the heat rolling off his body, the way his muscles flexed under that stupidly fitted jacket, or just him. All of him.

And just like that, your heart slammed against your ribs, your resolve threatening to crumble.

Bangchan lingered, watching—waiting. He wanted to see it happen, the exact moment your carefully built walls cracked. His pulse pounded, anticipation thrumming beneath his skin. But you held firm, clinging desperately to whatever thread of self-control you had left.

His smirk deepened, infuriatingly cocky. "I’m heading out," he murmured, eyes never leaving yours. Then, with a knowing glance, he added, "If you ever change your mind… you know where to find me."

And just like that, he turned on his heel, walking away without so much as a second look, leaving you standing there—heart racing, head spinning, and a heat pooling low in your stomach that you really didn’t want to acknowledge.

The night stretched on, loud and chaotic, but undeniably fun. By the time the drinks had blurred everyone’s ability to string together a coherent sentence, you decided to call it.

Back at the dorm, Eunji and Sohee barely made it to their rooms before collapsing face-first onto their beds, too drunk to even bother kicking off their shoes.

You wished you could do the same. But no—your mind had other plans.

You tossed. You turned. You put on some soft music, hoping it would lull you into sleep. It didn’t. Instead, every time you closed your eyes, all you saw was him.

The way he leaned in earlier, the heat rolling off him like an invitation. The way his muscles flexed beneath his jacket. The way his voice dropped, teasing, tempting, knowing.

You exhaled sharply, fingers curling into the sheets. It was ridiculous. Annoying. Infuriating.

You rolled onto your side, desperate for a distraction—anything—when your gaze landed on something draped over your study chair.

A black T-shirt. His.

The idea bloomed in your mind just as quickly as the heat spread between your thighs.

Pathetic. That’s what this was. That’s what you were.

Still, you got up, grabbing the shirt in your hands. His scent clung to the fabric—clean, musky, him. Just the faintest trace of it had your stomach twisting, the warmth inside you flickering into something dangerously close to need.

Before you could think better of it, you were pulling a hoodie over your flimsy excuse of a pajama shirt and slipping out the door.

It was past midnight. The campus was practically a ghost town at this hour, which was both a blessing and a curse. No one witnessed this humiliating trek across the quad. No one to stop you, either.

Your steps quickened as you reached his building, as if slowing down would somehow bring back your sanity.

Not happening. Not when your knuckles were already rapping against the door. Not when your breath was unsteady, your chest rising and falling too fast. Not when anticipation was burning through your veins, leaving you lightheaded and restless.

Shuffling sounds came from the other side. The lock clicked.

And then—him.

Bangchan stood in the doorway, his torso bare, sweatpants hanging sinfully low on his hips. His skin gleamed under the dim hallway light, muscles shifting as he leaned against the doorframe.

One look at you—hoodie, messy hair, his damn shirt clenched in your fingers—and something shifted in his expression. His lips parted slightly. His gaze darkened.

He already knew.

Bangchan was deep in sleep when the knocks came. His brows furrowed, his face crumpled with exhaustion as he groggily sat up, running a hand through his messy dark hair.

He hadn't been expecting anyone. But when he swung open the door, there you were. Hoodie slightly oversized, cheeks flushed, eyes dark with something unspoken.

You lifted the black shirt in your hands, your breath still uneven. “You forgot this.”

Bangchan’s gaze dropped to the fabric, then back to you, slow and deliberate.

“That’s all?” his voice was rough with sleep, but there was something sharper beneath it.

You swallowed hard, shaking your head. “No.”

That was all he needed.

The shirt was snatched from your grip and tossed somewhere behind him. His free hand was already at your waist, pulling you inside with a force that had your pulse skyrocketing. The door barely had time to click shut before you were on him. Hands in his hair, lips crashing into his, pouring all your frustration and desperation into the kiss.

Bangchan groaned into your mouth, gripping your hips so tight it sent a shiver down your spine. His skin was warm, solid beneath your touch—broad shoulders, the ridges of muscle beneath your fingertips.

And you wanted all of him.

His hands slid up, fingers teasing along the curve of your spine. Your teeth grazed his lower lip, earning a sharp, guttural sound from the back of his throat.

You barely recognized yourself at this point. There was barely any sanity left in your body, and whatever remained was slipping fast.

Somehow, between hectic kisses and hands wandering like they had a mind of their own, you ended up on the sofa. Bangchan sat with his legs spread, his breath heavy, and you straddled his lap, your hands splayed against his firm chest.

His eyes were dark, hooded, watching you like you were something he wanted to devour.

"Are you sure?" the words left his lips, but your body already knew the answer. Your stomach twisted—not with doubt, but with the unbearable anticipation of what was about to happen.

Bangchan opened his mouth, but you pressed two fingers against his plush lips, cutting him off.

"Shhh," you hissed, your voice edged with frustration. Your hips rolled against him, a slow, deliberate drag that had him sucking in a sharp breath. The way he twitched beneath you sent a wicked thrill through your veins.

"You're driving me insane," you confessed, your nails digging into his skin. "You're in my head. That ridiculous face of yours."

Through the haze of want, Bangchan let out a breathless laugh, slowly biting your finger. "Was that supposed to be a compliment?"

You smirked, dragging your fingers down his jaw. "Shut up. Kiss me."

And he did—like he had been waiting his whole damn life to.

With effortless ease, he shrugged off his sweatshirt, leaving you in nothing but that dangerously thin white tank top—one that did absolutely nothing to hide how your body reacted to him. Bangchan’s jaw tightened, his eyes darkening as he took in the sight. Fucking hell. He wanted to devour you. Every inch. Every sound. Every shiver.

His lips crashed onto yours, rough and demanding, his hand curling around the base of your neck as his tongue teased and tangled with yours. He tasted you like he was trying to memorize every second of it, like he never wanted to stop. The heat of him, the way his fingers dug into your waist, how his breath hitched every time you met his urgency—it was intoxicating.

Then his lips left yours, trailing down your jaw, down your neck, and suddenly, your body wasn’t yours anymore. Your knees went weak, your breath came in ragged little gasps, and before you could stop yourself, a low, broken moan escaped your lips—right against his ear.

Bangchan groaned. That sound. That fucking sound. He was about to lose his goddamn mind. His hands tightened around your hips, his patience thinning by the second as you shifted against him, rolling your hips just enough to make him ache.

That sound. That fucking sound. Bangchan was about to lose his goddamn mind.

“I want it off,” he murmured against your skin, voice thick with need.

His hands twitched against your waist, desperate. He could’ve ripped those pants clean off your body if he wanted to. But you took your sweet, agonizing time peeling them away before settling back onto his lap, now wearing nothing but a flimsy pair of white panties.

He would have torn your pants to shreds right then and there, but you took your time—agonizingly slow as you peeled them away before settling back onto his lap, now clad in nothing but the flimsy white panties that left nothing to his imagination.

And fuck. Bangchan broke.

You looked like a dream, like something too good to be real. Kiss-swollen lips. Hair messy from his hands. Chest rising and falling as you gasped for breath.

You were going to ruin him.

The absence of your pants made you bolder, rolling your hips in slow, teasing waves against his lap. He was already impossibly hard, every grind making it worse—if you kept this up, he was going to lose it before he even got the chance to be inside you. And that was not what he wanted.

But fuck, it felt good. The thick bulge in his sweatpants rubbing against your soaked panties, just barely grazing your clit, sending white-hot sparks shooting through your body. Every movement set off a new wave of heat, of need, of something devastatingly addictive.

“I need to do something,” you whispered against his lips, your breath warm and uneven.

Bangchan still had his eyes closed, savoring every second of this moment, refusing to let it slip away.

“Please.”

Your hands drifted down, fingers ghosting over the outline of his cock through the soft fabric of his sweats, barely touching—but more than enough to make his whole body tense. He gritted his teeth, veins pulsing as your palm pressed just a little harder.

“Fuck…” he rasped, voice hoarse, almost a plea.

You shifted between his legs, fingers toying with the hem of his pants, your nails barely scraping against his skin. His gaze burned into yours, dark with anticipation, completely at your mercy. And when you finally wrapped your hand around him—hot, firm, thick—he let out a shaky, wrecked breath.

A low groan escaped his lips, his head falling back against the couch as you wrapped your hand around him, warmth meeting warmth. The muscles in his abdomen tightened, every nerve in his body set ablaze by your slow, deliberate movements. You weren’t in a hurry—you wanted him to feel this. To lose himself in the way you handled him, the way you made him wait.

"You said I could use my pretty mouth next time," you murmured, feigning innocence, biting your lip just enough to drive him mad.

And then you winked—sweet, angelic, like you weren’t about to completely wreck him.

His breathing stuttered. His hands twitched at his sides, fighting the urge to grab you, to make you do something instead of torturing him like this. “You’re gonna kill me,” he groaned, his voice wrecked, eyes rolling shut as pleasure coiled in his stomach.

You only smiled, satisfied with how easily he was unraveling for you. Leaning in, you ghosted your lips over his, not quite kissing him—just close enough for him to chase after the contact. His body burned under yours, every breath he took shaky, labored.

"Like that, baby" he panted, his voice breaking as he let himself go, surrendering to the moment, to you.

To his torment, you picked up the pace, your touch firm, deliberate. His breath hitched, his body tensing beneath your hand as his head fell back against the couch. The heat between you was unbearable, a wildfire consuming every inch of restraint he had left.

His moans came unchecked, rough and unrestrained, completely at your mercy. He let you guide him, surrendering to every agonizing second—until suddenly, it all stopped. The loss of contact was like a snapped tether, leaving him breathless, on edge, undone.

His chest rose and fell rapidly as he blinked down at you, wide-eyed, dazed. The way you knelt between his legs, watching him with that look—he swore it could drive him insane.

And then, with agonizing slowness, your lips parted. The moment your mouth met his cock, his whole body tensed, a sharp hiss escaping through his teeth. His fingers curled into the couch, muscles drawn tight as you worked him over, your tongue teasing, tormenting, ruining him.

"Look at you," he murmured, smirking like he had the upper hand when, in reality, he was barely holding himself together. "So pretty around my cock" his tongue flicked over his lower lip, his voice rough, almost reverent.

If his goal was to sound composed, he was failing miserably.

You hummed in response, deliberately slow, deliberate in every movement. He cursed under his breath, fingers threading through your hair, not pulling—yet—but holding, like he needed something to keep him grounded.

"If you keep going," his voice was strained now, his thighs tensing beneath your touch, "I—"

You raised an eyebrow. "What, baby?”

His jaw clenched. He was already too far gone to play games, but you weren’t about to make this easy for him.

And then, just as he warned, he shattered. Every muscle in his body locked up, his breath stuttering as he tipped his head back, a curse slipping past his lips like a prayer. You didn’t let up, dragging out every second of his cum until his grip on reality seemed just as unsteady as his grip on you.

His chest rose and fell in uneven breaths, his grip on your hair going slack. You pulled back, wiping the corner of your mouth with the back of your hand, before giving him a slow, knowing smile.

By the end of it, he was completely wrecked—chest heaving, eyes hazy, limbs boneless. His vision blurred at the edges, like his body couldn’t decide whether to collapse or beg for more. He knew you were good. Knew the chemistry between you was dangerous. But the way you looked at him—innocent, yet utterly sinful—while taking him so effortlessly? That was his undoing. You weren’t just ruining him.

And yet, you didn’t stop there.

Without hesitation, you climbed onto his lap, capturing his lips in a kiss so wet, so consuming, it made his head spin all over again. The taste of himself lingered between you, but you never shied away from things like that. Bangchan was great in every way, and if he could make you feel good, you’d damn well return the favor.

"Holy shit, baby," he murmured between kisses, his voice still rough with aftershocks, "you're fucking amazing."

The wicked curve of his lips sent heat straight to your core. He was teasing you, even now, when he could barely string words together.

And God, it only made you want him more.

Every movement between you was deliberate—synchronized, electric, and dripping with consent. Bangchan’s fingers trailed down your trembling thighs, finding the soaked fabric of your panties. He barely touched you, yet a deep shiver ran through him, his cock twitching at the sheer slickness of you.

"Fuck," he muttered, more to himself than to you, voice thick with hunger.

Then, without warning, he pushed the fabric aside and pressed two fingers against your clit, rubbing slow, relentless circles.

Your moan was swallowed into the kiss, tangled between tongues and shallow breaths. He was hard again, pressing against your stomach, his body burning with every second of restraint. Bangchan grabbed the back of your neck, pulling you impossibly closer, his free hand teasing and taunting with no predictable rhythm—just continuous, torturous pressure that sent you spiraling.

"I..." you tried to speak, but the words crumbled in your throat, lost in the haze.

Bangchan's dark eyes locked onto your face, studying every microexpression—the way your lips parted, the way your brows knit together, how every tiny twitch exposed just how undone you were.

Then, as if testing the limits of your sanity, he dragged his fingers lower, slipping two deep inside.

You gasped.

The stretch was sinful. Even his fingers were thick, filling you in a way that had you gripping his shoulders, nails digging into his skin. Bangchan groaned at the feeling, his patience thinning with every squeeze of your walls around him.

And the worst part? He was just getting started.

He sucked on your lip, bit it, then soothed it with a kiss. "How can you be so fucking tight?" his voice was wrecked, nearly a growl, as he felt your walls clench around his fingers, swallowing him with a desperation that made his cock twitch.

Bangchan didn’t slow down. If anything, his pace turned ruthless—deep, fast, relentless. Each thrust of his fingers sent another jolt of pleasure through you, leaving your brain nothing but static. Your body thawed under his touch, a mess of heat and sensation. He pushed your blouse up just enough to bare your breasts, immediately palming them, kneading them as if the sensation alone could ruin him.

"Don’t stop." the demand left your lips between ragged breaths. "Harder."

Bangchan groaned, watching you ride in his lap like a dream he didn’t deserve. "Jesus Christ." his voice was strained, his self-control hanging by a thread. "’Gonna cum all over me, hmm? Is that what you want?"

It was too much. The filthy words, the ruthless rhythm, his fingers buried deep inside you while his cock throbbed against your thigh, still wet from your mouth. Your body was on the edge of something catastrophic.

And then you shattered.

The orgasm slammed into you like a cursive wave, your moan breaking into something raw, something uncontrollable. Bangchan swore under his breath, completely mesmerized. He didn’t stop—kept his fingers buried inside, working you through every pulse, every aftershock.

When your breath finally started to steady, you opened your eyes. And he was watching you.

His gaze was alarming—dark, hungry, completely ruined. As if he had just witnessed the most beautiful thing in the world.

You were both breathless, skin damp with sweat, but it wasn’t just the intensity of what happened—it was everything that had led to it. The frustration, the tension, the unspoken words tangled between your bodies.

Bangchan reached for his black shirt, which had been abandoned on the arm of the couch. "Keep this."

You eyed him, still catching your breath. "Why?"

"To motivate you."

You snorted, rolling your eyes before giving his shoulder a light shove. "You're so full of yourself."

But you still slipped it on, letting the oversized fabric swallow you up, suddenly feeling less exposed—less vulnerable. His hands remained on your thighs, holding you in place on top of him, as if he wasn’t ready to let you go just yet.

Then, casually, he picked up his phone and handed it to you. "Put your number in."

You held the device, raising an eyebrow. "Why? So you can save it as ‘bootycall’?"

His lips curled into a slow, shameless smirk. "Maybe."

"You're terrible." you rolled your eyes but still tapped your number into his phone, handing it back with a smirk. "And a complete pervert."

Bangchan ran his hands up your thighs, his fingers lingering just long enough to make your breath hitch. "For you?" his voice was low, teasing, but there was something deeper in his gaze. "Completely."

The weight of the moment settled between you, thick and lingering. And that was your cue. You stood, reaching for your clothes, shaking off whatever it was that passed between you. Bangchan did the same, though not without watching you with that unreadable look on his face.

"You could stay if you want," he offered, ever so casually.

You scoffed. "It's late, and the girls will notice if I'm missing in the morning."

He nodded, as if he understood—because he did. No one could know. 

Once you were dressed, you headed for the door, pausing just long enough to glance over your shoulder.

"So," Bangchan leaned against the couch, arms crossed, his smirk returning. "How about it?"

You blinked. "What?"

"It'll never happen again?" his tone was pure mischief, mocking you.

Your lips curled, mirroring his amusement. "You have my number." you shrugged, stepping into the hallway. "Make good use of it."

And with that, you disappeared down the corridor, leaving Bangchan standing there, an unfamiliar, overwhelming feeling tightening in his chest.

One thing was becoming painfully clear—whatever this was between you, it wasn’t going away. And maybe, just maybe, you were better together than apart.

♡ taglist ― @kenia4 @chrizrizz @meerabmalik @gnabnahcsworld @gncbnahc @jinniejjam @skzworldx @itsacatastrophe-xo @soonie1010 @4ng3l-ch1ld @justwonder113 @tsunderelino @eastjonowhere @lyracarvahall @akindaflora @victoriaaf

[cloudzoro]

Doubting It | Portgas D Ace ♡

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pairings: ace x fem!reader

genre: smut (minors dni)

wc: 1.4k words (short and sweet)

cw: smut, angst, comfort, self-worth issues, undertones of unhealthy codependency, low-key sub!ace and soft dom!reader, reader puts on aces hat.

masterlist | ace masterlist

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Ace is having a bad day and a lot of self-worth issues, but luckily, he has you to bring him back down to earth.

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Ace thinks you're sick. There must be something wrong with you. Why, in the name of all that's good, would a woman like you want a man like him? He can't understand it. Every kiss you place on his freckled skin leaves behind a burning feeling more intense than anything his devil fruit could cause. It's love. Complete, unbridled and undeserved.

He knows how he feels about you; this relationship surpassed frantic quickies and blushing denials long ago. Ace is loyal, headstrong and devoted. He's making the best out of your attention, fearing the day you come to your senses and realise you deserve someone with more maturity, intelligence and far less bad blood running through their veins. He waits for you to stop or change your mind, but you don't; you kiss over his abs, whispering affirmations to him.

“Ace, you're so handsome.”

“You're special to me.”

“My perfect man”

He doesn't want to believe a single word of it, but you say it with such care that even he can't question your sincerity. Your fingertip gently trails over his happy trail, making him shiver beneath you. Normally, Ace would've giggled at the feeling, but he's serious, whimpering and trying to buck his hips up into your hand. At least, if you're fucking him, he can focus on his orgasm instead of the way you make him feel outside of the bedroom.

You reach down to unbutton his shorts, tugging them and his underwear off in one go. You lick up the underside of his cock, and he almost cums on the spot. He is blessed to have you touching him at all. You take him into your mouth, warm tongue pressing against the veins on his cock.

As soon as you start to bob your head, he's seeing stars. He's blinded by pleasure, openly wailing your name loud enough for the neighbours to hear. You swallow as best you can, throat squeezing his cock just right. That one movement sends him over the edge, and he spills into your mouth. He forces his eyes to stay open as he cums, just catching you swallow down his cum before screwing his eyes shut so he can calm himself down.

He doesn't get a break though. Your voice cuts through the thick air surrounding him. The sound of your voice softly calling his name causes him to open his eyes again. He finally starts to smile again, and you lean in for a kiss.

He kisses back, strong arms holding you in place while he finally tries to love on you the way you've been doing to him. You know he needs it. You let him roll you over so you're underneath him. He stays kissing you, pressing his tongue into your mouth. His hands work on undressing you, carefully removing each piece. He pulls back from the kiss after each article is removed to compliment you. He's immediately flustered every time you accept his compliments with a sweet thank you and a comment of your own.

When you're fully naked, he pulls back to stare at you. His eyes are almost hesitant, glittering with emotion as he takes in your form.

“You're so beautiful,” He says, hands smoothing down your legs as he kneels between them.

“I'm all yours, baby.” You say, a pretty smile splitting across your face. He shakes his head and attempts to protest. How could you be all his? He's not worthy. He gets halfway through his statement when you angrily call his name. He looks into your eyes and is shaken to his core. You're upset. He's upset you. He hadn't realised how he'd been making you feel while he was so caught up in his feelings. He feels the panic rising in his chest and frantically apologises. He's cut off by you sitting up, grabbing the back of his head and pulling him back down into a hard kiss. He immediately relaxes under your touches. You cradle his pretty face in your hands, holding him close to your face.

“Don't you ever doubt my love for you. I know what other people may think, and I quite frankly don't give a fuck. They're not me, don't compare me to them. I love you, Ace, and I fucking mean that.”

Your words are like ice water, cutting through the burning pain in his heart. It's a harsh wake-up call, but he needed it. He'd never dream of comparing you to anyone else. You're serious in your love for him, and it honestly terrifies him. He's never seen you be so confident as when you tell him you love him. A stray tear he can't hold back anymore escapes, and you lean up to kiss it away.

“I love you too,” He says, and for the first time all night, he sounds sure of himself.

“Good” is all you have to say as you pull him back for a kiss. He shamelessly moans into your mouth, proving how desperately he needs you. He resumes what he was doing in the first place, reaching down to rub your clit. He slips his fingers lower, pushing them inside you. His lips swallow your moans as you keen into his touch. He thrusts his fingers, getting the right angle. He takes your noises as motivation, using his fingers to work you up to an orgasm. When you cum, Ace is oddly quiet. He's taking in your every move, watching every minuscule twitch and shake of your body. He's a man obsessed.

“Are you ready for more?” he asks. You nod. He's confused a little when you begin to sit up until you push him onto his back.

“Let me ride you,” You say, swinging a leg over him. He nods, immediately following up with a verbal yes. You don't slip him in right away, instead opting to grind on his cock, rubbing your pussy over his shaft. He whines, warm hands coming up to grab your hips in a bruising grip.

“Please let me put it in.” He begs. “I need to be inside you.”

You oblige, reaching behind to guide his cock into you. You both cry out as you sink down on his cock. Ace is thick. His cock stretches you out like nothing else. You know it's not how anatomy works, but it feels like he's carved a space inside specifically moulded to his cock.

“Love your pussy. Fits me like a fucking glove,” he whimpers, hands flexing against your hips to urge you to move.

“If I'm gonna ride you like a cowgirl, shouldn't I wear a hat?” You tease, voice sounding wobbly at the end as his cock twitches inside you. His brain turns off when his cock is buried inside your pussy, so he doesn't understand what you mean until he realises you're reaching over to the nightstand to grab his hat. Once you place it on your head, Ace gasps. It's like he's seeing you for the first time. It's a statement, undeniable proof, that you're all his.

Just seeing you in his hat is enough to get him going, but now you're bouncing on his cock, and it has the last thread of his sanity flying out the window. The feeling of your tight wet pussy clenching around his sensitive cock is making him feel delirious. He feels your connection on a molecular level, deeper than the plane of existence you both inhabit. The feeling is foreign and scary to Ace, but you're there, so it's okay. You're ripping him apart just to put him back together.

The room is filled with thick air, the colliding of skin and the slick noises of your juices. Ace holds off the best he can, waiting for you to cum for him first. He needs to see how you look, experiencing the throes of pleasure in his hat. You're close, and your legs start to give, thighs shaking as you attempt to keep riding your man.

Ace reaches up to pull you down against his body; he plants both feet on the mattress and takes control, fucking up into you. Your orgasm washes over you, and you drop your head to his neck. Ace moans loudly as you attach your teeth to his neck and suck. He pushes down the urge to hold you there and tell you to bite harder. He'd let you do just about whatever you want with him, no matter what state it leaves him in. You have all this power over him, enough to kill him, and you're choosing to use it to love him.

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thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed :)))

comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

tag list: @bloodfixnd @beachaddict48 @sexysapphicshopowner @lem-hhn

general tag list and individual character tag lists are always open 🫶🫶

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[dixons-sunshine]

Bedtime Shenanigans | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Summary: There was no denying that when it came to parenthood, Daryl was an amazing dad. Your daughter adored him and he absolutely adored his daughter, maybe a bit too much. He let her get away with a lot, so to get back at him, you placed him on a duty more impossible than fighting off a herd with your bare fists—getting your daughter ready for bed.

Genre: Fluff.

Era: Alexandria, no arc in particular.

Warnings: Like one swear word.

Word count: 964.

A/n: Requested by @darylsdelts. This isn't really that good but I hope you like it nonetheless! I really wanted to get this done for you. (I haven't forgotten the uncle!Daryl thing you sent my way. I haven't completed season 11 yet so I'm not too comfortable with writing for the Commonwealth yet. As soon as I finish it, it will be written. Sorry for the wait!)

“Hazelnut, I'mma need ya to calm down now. S'bedtime,” Daryl practically begged for the hundredth time in five minutes, desperately trying to calm down the hyperactive three year old that took great pleasure in doing anything but what was asked.

Hazel giggled and continued jumping on the bed, completely disregarding her father's request. “No,” she laughed as she continued jumping, nearly falling off of the bed in her excitement.

Daryl quickly moved to steady her to prevent the painful tumble to the ground, and sighed deeply when Hazel just went about jumping on the bed again. “Hazel, please,” he pleaded again. “Jus' please. M'tired and wanna go to bed as well. We can play again tomorrow, 'kay?”

Hazel slowed down and Daryl thanked his lucky stars. However, it was all a ruse, because his little girl gave him a big, toothy smile, a mischievous laugh, and resumed with her prior activities. “No.”

Daryl groaned and felt like tearing his own hair out. He loved his daughter with his whole heart. He loved his little girl more than almost anything else. However, her steadfast refusal to settle down for the night was wearing him thin, and he was beginning to believe your earlier statement—saying yes to everything she asked and allowing her to do whatever she wanted would make her more prone to acting up. Daryl didn't want to believe what you had told him, but now he was starting to believe what you had told him was the truth.

“Hazel, sweetheart,” Daryl began in a soft voice, trying to push the irritation that was starting to form in him away. She was only a toddler. She didn't know any better. Yelling at her wouldn't get him anywhere. He sat down on the bed, the movement causing Hazel to fall flat on the bed, her giggles echoing through the small room. “Ya remember wha' Mama told ya the other day?” Hazel nodded and clambered into Daryl's lap, wrapping her small arms around his neck. Daryl smiled and hugged her back, his big hand softly caressing her back. “Then wha' did she say?”

“Bedtime is for sleep. Bedtime means to rest and be ready for more play time tomorrow,” Hazel relaid the message you had told her countless times before. “But, Daddy, I don't wanna go to bed. I wanna keep playing with you. We need to finish our teaparty.”

“I know, Hazelnut, I know,” Daryl whispered into her ear, slightly rocking from side to side. “But s'late. Both'a us need to go to bed or else we won't be in the mood to play tomorrow. Ya get me?”

Hazel nodded and Daryl breathed a sigh of relief. However, it was proved to be another ruse, because Hazel withdrew from Daryl's hold and started jumping around on the bed again, mischievous giggles falling from her lips. “No. Play time!”

Daryl sighed and shut his eyes. He was in for a long night.

You laughed as Daryl flopped down on the bed, the archer moving to cuddle up to you, his head finding its place on your chest. You placed your book down on the bedside table and wrapped your arms around your husband, your fingers softly threading through his hair. “Rough night?” you asked playfully, laughing when he groaned. “I'm impressed. Only took you an hour to get her settled down. I thought it would take longer.”

“She wouldn't listen,” he grumbled into your chest. “I love her, but she can be a real gremlin. Dun' feed 'em after midnight, righ'?” Daryl smiled when he heard you laugh. “Ya were righ'. I can't always let her do wha' she wants. I need to establish some rules with her.”

You smiled and pressed a tender kiss to his forehead. “You know it doesn't mean that you're a bad dad, right?” When Daryl didn't reply, you lifted his head to look into his eyes. “Hey, I mean it. Rules are simply made so that she can learn right from wrong. Do you know how hard it is for me to say no to her? I wanna give her everything she wants, but I can't, and that's okay. Rules are good. Rules help her learn that eating messily isn't always acceptable. Rules help her learn that refusing bath time is only okay for daddy, because daddy is too stubborn to listen to reason.”

Daryl chuckled and shrugged. “Guess I can tell her to stop refusin' bath time.” He stopped and sent you an apologetic look. “M'sorry fer teachin' her the wrong things. I promise I'll be better.”

You smiled and pressed another kiss to his forehead. “I know you will. I love you.”

“I love ya too, Sunshine. So fuckin' much.”

©dixons-sunshine 2024. I do not give permission for my works to be copied, modified, adapted or translated to any other site or platform without evidence of my given consent.

[catch1ngmoths]

please a joost kink hc post 😭 i can’t find anyyyy

⋆.ೃ࿔*JOOSTS KINK HC LIST:･જ⁀➴

Summary: what I think joosts kinks would be + some headcannons (｀▽´)

Note: this is my first time doing somthing like this so tell me if this is too much and or if I should take it down!! ^_^

Warnings: litterally just straight and utter smut so if that’s something that makes you uncomfortable click away!!

† ཐི❤︎ཋྀ † † ཐི❤︎ཋྀ † † ཐི❤︎ཋྀ † † ཐི❤︎ཋྀ † † ཐི❤︎ཋྀ † † ཐི❤︎ཋྀ †

꩜ SIZE KINK; I feel like he would love a partner that is smaller in size then him. Which isn’t hard since this mf is literally like 6,3 in feet.

- “N-Ngh~ Joost…ts’too much..can’t take it” you whimper as you feel him push into you, he was a lot larger then you in size and hight but seeing you barely able to fit his length burned something inside him. “You can. And you will, now shut up and take it” he’d say back with a sadistic chuckle

꩜ DEGRADATION + PRAISE; I think Joost would like to mix the two together while fucking you. Saying the most dirty things in the sweetest way possible.

- “ha…such a dirty little thing…taking me so well. God your go good for me, taking it all like the dirty baby you are huh..?” He would mutter as he looks down at you on your knees, stroking your cheek affectionately

꩜ HAIR PULLING; I think Joost would love getting his hair pulled, your always running your hands through his hair through the day so feeling you tug on his hair in THIS atmosphere was something he treasures

- as he thrusts into you groaning into your neck you grab onto anything you can, that thing being his hair. As soon as he feels you tug on his hair he bites down onto your neck, not enough to hurt you of course but…yk. His thrusts become harsher, causing you to pull harder. This makes him grin

꩜ BRAT TAMING; sometimes whenever your being a bratty he knows just how to put you back in your place, fucking you stupid so you have no thoughts in your head to make those snarky remarks anymore (he secretly loves them tho)

- you smarted off to Joost earlier which ended up in you face down and ass up, your poor cunt being abused. You were so overstimulated but he didn’t stop. Everytime you were close he would stop his movements making you choke out a pathetic sob that was like music to his ears. By the end of it you’d be nothing but a little thing at his mercy.

꩜ DACRYPHILIA; seeing you cry during sex (CONSENSUALLY AND NOT IN PAIN) would literally make him go feral, especially if you’re begging since he won’t give you what you want. Bringing you to tears that made him just wanna ruin you

- Tears stain your cheeks as Joost hits that certain spot that makes you see stars, “right there…right there a-ah~” you cry, your tears leaving wet spots on the pillow below your head, making Joost groan and go even harder on you

꩜ SLAPPING; this one’s complicated because I feel like he’d NEVER slap your face. He loves you too much and takes that as way too far and as disrespectful. I’m taking about slaps to your thighs and ass yk?

- Joost kisses down your stomach and continues kissing down your inner thighs, causing you to instinctively clench around his head. At his he snickers and spreads your legs forcefully but not before placing a harsh slap to your thigh, peppering kisses where the hand print started to form

OR

- your face in burrowed into the pillow, muffling your loud moans as Joost fucks into you from behind. Before you can even comprehend what happened you feel a stinging pain on your ass. You yelp and moan louder into the pillow. His soft fingertips lovingly run over the hand print, soothing the red stinging and chuckling

† ཐི❤︎ཋྀ † † ཐི❤︎ཋྀ † † ཐི❤︎ཋྀ † † ཐི❤︎ཋྀ † † ཐི❤︎ཋྀ † † ཐི❤︎ཋྀ †

Note: AHHH OKAY SO AGAIN THAT WAS MY FIRST TIME DOING SOMTHING LIKE THIS SO PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK AND IF I SHOULD TAKE THIS DOWN OR IF ITS GOOD (*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ*.ﾟ

[mystic-writings]

closing time | robin buckley

PAIRING — robin buckley x fem!reader

SUMMARY — robin has a crush on you. what happens when you're locked in keith's office after the store closes?

WARNINGS — fluff, banter, love confessions, mentions of panic/anxiety & season three

WORD COUNT — 2,353

NOTES — something short and sweet for my beloved robin!! i hope y'all enjoy and don't forget to leave feedback please! also, this was very loosely inspired by sparks fly by taylor swift

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Robin Buckley was utterly, helplessly, in love. 

There was no denying it anymore; Robin was completely in love with you. She would light up every time you walked into class; her heart stopped every time you smiled at her, and spluttered back to life when you’d say her name. Her mind ran away from her every time you shared a shift at the video store, full of daydreams of what you and her would even do if you dated, only to be shut down by the brutal fear of rejection. 

 But you didn’t know that.

As far as Robin Buckley was aware, you only thought of her as your anxious, rambling friend who, more often than not, spent her shifts making fun of your co-worker Steve and his almost inexplicable lack of game. 

Most of the time that she was around you, Robin was forced to ‘act normal’, as if she’d ever done that before. It usually resulted in useless rambles about something weird she’d read about, like gingivitis or how most of the backdrop scenes from Star Wars were actually just still paintings. But you usually seemed genuinely interested in what she had to say, and that took some of the uncomfortable anxiety away. And sometimes, you’d even laugh. A genuine one, too, and it would make Robin’s day.

Tonight was a lot like that. It was Friday, and the typical customer buzz around the store was enough to keep you, Robin, and Steve occupied for a while. But by 9pm, the clientele died out, and the three of you were behind the counter playing a round of Crazy 8s. 

“Hah!” Robin said, slamming her palm to the pile of cards. She pulled it back to reveal an 8 of clubs, a proud smile on her face. “Suck it, Steve! Last card,” she huffed, leaning on the counter as you and Steve stared expectantly at her. “Oh, right. And it’s hearts now.”

Steve huffed, glancing at his cards before taking one from the pick-up pile. “Dick move, Buckley.”

“Dick face, Harrington.”

“What does that even mean?” You asked, looking at yours before placing a 3 on the pile. 

Robin just shrugged, her lips forming a smirk as she placed her final card down. “I win!” 

“Alright, I’m out,” Steve huffed, tossing his cards on the pile. You couldn’t help the overwhelming amount of clubs he had, causing you to stifle a giggle. “See you losers tomorrow.” 

“Good luck with that, Steve, ‘cause I won’t be here.” You mentioned, scooping the cards into your hands. “Mom’s taking me to Indianapolis for some family thing. Had to cancel my morning shift, which means…” 

Steve, who had been retrieving his jacket and car keys from under the counter, turned back with what you could only describe as a look of horror painted on his face. “No,” 

“Yep,” you said, popping the ‘p’.

“No! You can’t do this to me, Y/n!” 

“I already did, Steve.” You began shuffling the cards. 

“But Keith always smells like eggs in the mornings! And he hates me,” Steve whined. “I can’t believe you.” 

“Sorry,” you shrugged half-heartedly. “Can’t un-cancel my shift now, Keith’ll be pissed if I call him this late.” 

Robin scoffed, arms folded across her chest as she watched you shuffle the cards intently. “No, he won’t. He’s practically in love with you.” 

You shuddered at the thought. “Ew, gross. Please never say those words to me again, Robin. I beg of you. I think I’ll die, or… contract something if I think about it for more than 30 seconds.” 

“Okay, okay, I’ve gotta get outta here,” Steve said, spinning his keys on his finger. “See you weirdos later.” 

You and Robin shouted farewells as he exited the store, the bell ringing, signifying his departure. Glancing up at Robin from your focus on the deck of cards, you asked, “Another round?” 

The girl nodded, a shaky exhale leaving her lips. You were closing together, and while it wasn’t uncommon, time alone with you was something Robin treasured. And the way you looked up at her through your eyelashes… Robin was going to be combating the butterflies in her stomach all night, it seemed. 

The next hour seemed to fly by with no issues. 

No customers came by after Steve left, so you and Robin played cards and watched a movie on the big TV hanging from the ceiling until your watch beeped, signalling 10pm — closing time. 

The pair of you worked in tandem, one of you counting the cash and working out what the deposit would be while the other made sure that everything looked nice and that the return carts were empty — of course they were, Steve had done them long before he left. 

Disaster struck when you went into Keith’s office to finish closing for the night. 

The analog clock on Keith’s desk read 10:18pm when you passed it, Robin just behind you. All that was left was to write up the deposit in an email and send it to the regional inbox. It was a delicate procedure, to say the least, but with Robin reading everything out to you as you typed it up made things a lot easier. 

“You got that?” Robin asked, hopping off the desk beside you. 

You glanced at her, fingers typing away. “Yeah, Robin, I think I can remember how many five dollar bills were put in the deposit envelope.”

Robin snorted beside you, the already-open safe door creaking as she pulled it. Slipping the envelope inside, along with the deposit slip, she shut the door with a loud clang, causing you to flinch slightly. 

“And…” you pressed a few final buttons on the keyboard, the computer trilling as the email finished sending. “We’re off! Let’s shut this place down and get the hell out of here.”

“As if I’d actually want to stay,” Robin grimaced as you powered down the computer. “This place smells like…” Robin sniffed the air, her face scrunching further. “Cheetos and B.O.” 

You giggled, pushing the chair into the desk. “Gross,” 

Robin made her way to the office door, a giddy smile on her face. “What? I’m right! It’s like Keith doesn’t know what air freshener is. Or a shower.”

She pulled on the door, her smile falling as she twisted the knob. 

“What? Robin, what is it?” 

“I— I don’t know,” Robin twisted the doorknob again, pulling the door toward her, to no avail. She twisted again, frantically, panic setting into her gut. “I think it’s locked!” 

“No,” you nearly gasped. “It can’t be locked!” 

“Okay, well, I’m turning the doorknob and it’s not moving, so…!” Robin said, voice shaking as she turned to look back at you. 

“Let me try, Robin. Maybe it’s just stuck.” You suggested. Robin relented, stepping to the side as you grasped the cool metal. You twisted and pulled, your movements growing frustrated and frantic as you realised that the door wasn’t stuck — you were, in fact, locked in. “Damn it!” You exclaimed, kicking the door. “I can’t believe this,” 

Robin’s hands flew to her hair, grasping at her scalp as she tried to calm herself down. She watched you begin to pace, chewing on your thumbnail, thinking of something, anything you could do to get yourselves out of this office. 

You were suddenly beginning to feel cramped, like the walls were closing in on you. But you took a breath, eyes scanning the room, landing on the phone conveniently placed on Keith’s desk. “Ha!” 

Robin watched you rush to the other side of the desk, picking up the receiver and beginning to dial a number. “Are you calling the police?”

“The police?” You scrunched up your nose, holding the receiver to your ear. “No, that’s stupid. I’m calling Steve.” 

“Calling the police when we’re locked in a room with no way out is stupid?” Robin scoffed, taking up your previous state of pacing. 

The phone rang in your ear as you sat down on the chair. “Of course it is, Robin. Steve has a set of keys, and there’s pretty much a guarantee that no one’s going to answer a Friday night call. They’re all out busting parties and pulling over drunk drivers. They’re gonna put us on the back burner. But Steve won’t. Besides, he’s not doing anything tonight, his date cancelled on him this morning.” 

Robin barely acknowledged your words, mind running wild with the thoughts running through her head. Steve would help, of course he would. Ever since Starcourt, he knew how much Robin hated being stuck somewhere with no way to get out. She just hoped he’d get here quickly. Being stuck in a room with no real way out was one thing, but being stuck in a room with the girl you’re practically in love with was something entirely different. 

“Steve!” You practically shouted with joy.

“Jesus,” Steve groaned. “Tone it down, please! What’s up?”

You huffed, leaning back in Keith’s chair. “Look, Robin and I locked ourselves in the office, somehow, and we need you to come by with your keys and let us out.” Steve sighed on the other line. “Pretty please? I’ll buy you Burger King on Sunday.” 

“Fine. But I’m taking my sweet time getting there. I’m on the other side of town, if you even care to know.” 

“I know where you live, Steve.” You rolled your eyes. “Just hurry up. I think Robin’s losing her mind in here.”

“When is she not losing her mind?” 

“Steve,” you warned, sighing a farewell as he hung up on you. “Okay, he’ll be here soon. I think.” 

“God,” Robin groaned, palms pressed to her forehead. “My mom’s gonna kill me. My cousins are coming into town for the week and I’m supposed to clean tomorrow and instead I’m stuck here, in a room that smells like death, where I’ll probably actually die! Of, like, dehydration or starvation or something meanwhile my cousin Evan is happily sitting on my mom’s couch eating cookies or something!” 

“Starvation?” You asked yourself as you stood from the chair. “Robin, it’ll be fine. Steve’s on his way,” 

The girl barely acknowledged you, still pacing, arms flying around as she spoke. “And, by the way, starvation? A really painful way to die! It hurts, Y/n, a lot. Or, at least, that’s what I’ve read, but who am I to judge! I mean, I’ve never starved to death before! Not until now, at least!” 

You sighed, stepping in Robin’s path, making sure to grab her shoulders firmly, eyes locked onto hers. “Robin,” you said, eyebrows raised as the girl fell silent. “Steve should be here anytime soon. We won’t starve to death. All we have to do is wait out the half an hour before he gets here, max. We’ll be fine.” 

Robin’s eyebrows cinched before she shook her head. “But what if something bad happens, Y/n? Then what are we gonna do? We’ll die! And I can’t die! I haven’t seen Evan since I was 9! He lives in Pennsylvania! Hershey, Pennsylvania! Do you have any idea how far that is?”

“It’s, like, an 8 hour drive, Robin,” you said, voice quiet. Your eyes stayed locked on hers, watching the anxiety swim through her green irises. It was like you could see the gears turning, clicking and grinding to form more anxious thoughts for her to spew out in a breathless panic. 

“Not to mention the smell in here! It’s horrible! I mean, seriously, could Keith not afford a fan, or-or some sort of air freshener! And the windows! They’re so small, and they barely open, and—” 

Robin’s words ceased when you pulled her forward, crashing your lips onto hers. Her muscles tensed for a moment, eyes wide, until she realised you were kissing her. You were kissing her. Robin barely had the time to kiss you back, to place her hands gingerly on your waist before you were pulling back, sucking in air. 

“What was that for?” Robin asked, voice squeaking. 

You only smiled. “I really needed you to stop talking.” You joked, a hesitant hand reaching up to brush some of Robin’s hair from her face. “Besides, I’ve been wanting to do that for, like, 6 months.” 

“Oh,” Robin said, nodding briefly before she smiled, cheeks burning red. “Can you do it again?” 

You smiled wide, nodding ecstatically before placing your hands on Robin’s neck, pulling her closer so that you could kiss her again. 

It was slower this time, a test of the waters as you both melted into one another’s touch. A delicate kiss, one that said a lot more than either of you could find the words for. Robin’s fingers dug into the flesh of your waist, her mind barely comprehending what was happening right now. 

The rest of the world seemed to fall away at that moment, so much so that neither of you paid attention to the soundscape around you, failing to hear the sound of keys jingling in the lock — the door to the office squealing as it opened, and the subsequent screams of Steve Harrington. 

“What the hell, guys!” Steve screamed, covering his eyes as you and Robin jumped away from one another, lips swollen and cheeks burning. “I leave you by yourselves for an hour and a half and you’ve got your tongues down each other’s throats!” 

“Thanks, Steve,” you said, sheepish as you took Robin’s hand, leading her past his gobsmacked form. 

“You owe me a hell of a lot more than just Burger King for making me see that.” 

“Sure thing!” You called out as you and Robin slung your bags over your shoulders.

“Thank you, dingus!” Robin shouted over her shoulder, smiling wide at Steve, following you out of the store.

You huffed a laugh and smiled at Robin, swinging your hands as you grabbed your keys from your pocket. “Want a ride home?”

“Sure,” Robin smiled, relishing the feeling of your hand in hers. She made sure to keep it there during the entire drive to her house, and as often as she could after that, too.

forever taglist: @mazerunnerrose @theboldandthebootyful @miraclesoflove @heliads

robin buckley taglist: @sunshine-daisies-library (open!)

taglist form here!

[kakashixhatakesxwhore]

Alone

Pairing: Hokage!Kakashi x f!Reader

Summary: Kakashi comes home late, to find that you left a note stating that you want to be left alone.

W/c: 1k (she bite-sized but I love her)

Warnings: Swearing, Kakashi's possessive and worries a lot

A/n: this one is entirely based off of this Frog and Toad story, so I only felt it was right to include the picture from the story's resolution. y'all know i just adore this man as hokage. lmk if this sucks, yk, the usual.

Masterlist💿

It had been another long day for the new Hokage. He was tired, he was stiff, and all he wanted was a kiss from you. He should have given you ten more kisses than he actually had given you, this morning - but, he was rushing, he had an early meeting.

Fuck, what an idiot. He should've been seizing every moment he had to kiss you, but he didn't, not this morning. He was being a terrible husband.

What if you thought so, too? What if you were feeling neglected, or, worse, unloved? What if that was the reason why you left such a cryptic, worrisome note for him to find when he got home?

Dear, Kakashi, I am not at home. I went out. I want to be alone. Y/n

He put the prettily penned note back onto the console table and shed his official robes. They were getting hot. The entire foyer of your home was getting hot.

Turning back to the door, Kakashi opened it back up with a shaking hand.

"Alone?" He murmured to himself as he shut it, again. As he walked away from the Red House, Kakashi scoffed, "Why does she want to be alone?"

Trekking away from the house, he wracked his brain, conjuring up a list of places you may be.

So, he started simple.

And he thanked the stars he hadn't checked anywhere else, first.

There, you laid, way out in the middle of a very wide pond, just North of Hokage Rock, in a little valley filled with flora, fauna, and the like.

A huge, grey rock held you above the water, just high enough so that the small ripples in the pond, caused by the frogs and little fish, didn't bother your sleeping form at all. Dragon flies zipped about you, only gracing you with a small bit of wind, and hardly a tickle or aggravation. Thin, weaning rays of sunlight passed through the tree line as the ball of fire made it's descent of the sky. They painted you with little golden dots, just over the long pants and tank top you had on.

Kakashi, almost, didn't want to wake you.

Almost.

Walking atop the water's surface, Kakashi strode over to you carefully, making sure not to make any undue splashes. As he walked, he berated himself.

Because you could have been sleeping, at home. You could have been doing this within the sanctity of your home, not out, where someone could just grab you. Shit, see a pretty lady, in the middle of a fucking pond, unconscious? Kakashi's instinct would be to help, even if he didn't know her - but there were some bad characters, who would not be so inclined. Why couldn't you just be a little more mindful of that? Kakashi worried about you, and your safety, and your health, but you didn't seem the least at all concerned.

Approaching you near silently, Kakashi ran his index finger down the inside of your arm, feeling the tender flesh as you twitched so preciously.

Fuck - the reason why you didn't care about you was because you didn't know how much he cared about you. That had to be it. He was underserving you, and that was just fucking criminal.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart," he whispered, watching your eyes slowly open as he continued to tickle your arm.

You blinked and a smile rose to your face, it almost confused Kakashi.

Slowly, you sat up and shirked his touch in favour of a stretch. It almost bothered Kakashi, but he was very aware that he was in no position to be bothered by something so trivial.

"What are you sorry for, Kakashi?" You asked after a yawn, that same little grin on your lips as you looked into his eyes with a sparkle in yours.

A little embarrassed to be made to say it aloud, Kakashi scratched the back of his neck. Oh, grow the fuck up - apologize to your wife like a proper man, or else she'll resent-

"I'm sorry for treating you so poorly," he began, much to your surprise. Your smile continued to inch off of your face as he went on, "I've been so consumed with the duties of being Hokage, that I've been neglecting you. The last thing I want is for you to be unhappy. I shouldn't have..."

You were laughing.

So quietly, a small snicker, a little giggle.

"I'm not unhappy, Kakashi," you grinned, shaking your head a tad.

"Then why did you want to go out, and be alone?" He asked, voice dipped in bewilderment.

Your smile had returned to simply rest on your face as you looked at him. Gently, you shrugged, and told him, "This morning, when I woke up, I felt good, because the sun was shining. I felt good, because I'm your wife. And I felt good, because I know I'm so, very loved. I wanted to be alone, so I could think about how wonderful everything is. That was all in the morning, and I had a very long meditation on this rock, then took an even longer nap. I wasn't aware of the time, and I thought I'd be home earlier- that you'd never even read the note."

Quietly, Kakashi sat down on the rock with you, knees suddenly weak. He had to take a few breaths, but, even then, he couldn't stop looking into your eyes.

Your beautiful eyes.

They didn't call him a fool, nor did they judge him for overthinking anything.

"Oh," he said lowly, after some time had passed. "I suppose that's a very good reason to want to be alone."

You just laughed, and stretched again, before standing atop the water. Extending your hand to him, you purred, "And now, I am glad to not be alone. Let's go home, and make dinner - I'm starved."

Kakashi took your hand gingerly. He stood and twirled you so that his arm rested on your shoulder naturally, as you maintained your hold of his hand. Bringing you close to his side, Kakashi just sighed contently, "I love you, sweetheart."

"I love you, Kakashi," you smiled up at him. "You really are a spectacular husband."

[teamatsumu]

kinktober 2023 -> day 18

hair pulling - kozume kenma x reader

word count: 669

kinktober masterlist

Kozume Kenma was complicated.

He confused everyone around him. His friends, colleagues, acquaintances. He was quiet and unexpressive, and that made him difficult to connect with. He often came off as intriguing and mysterious. Even when he played volleyball back in high school, it was a well known fact that opposing teams were wary of Nekoma’s setter above everything else. If there was anyone who understood him, it was Kuroo. And you, of course you.

It had taken years and years of awkward friendship and then awkward relationship before Kenma really opened up to you. Where you two were now was the very peak, but it had not always been like this. You were sure that if you hadn’t loved the boy so much for so long, Kenma would still elude you. But not now. Now, you could play Kenma like a puppet. And that’s exactly what you were doing with your skilled fingers at this very moment.

“Again.” Kenma’s husky voice hit your ear, shivers traveling down your spine at the sound. You obeyed and curled your fingers into a fist again, causing the strands of hair between them to stiffen as you pulled. A broken moan left his lips, muffled into the crook of your neck. His hips stuttered, his rhythm breaking, and your breath caught in your throat when his cock shifted inside you, hitting at a new angle.

“Kenma.” You whined when he established a stable pace again, hips jerking into you over and over. He was panting and gasping as you twisted and tugged at his hair, the tingles from his scalp running down his spine and his blood shooting straight to his dick. Kenma groaned, feeling his thrusts faltering once more. You bit your bottom lip as the coil inside you tightened. You wanted to cum so bad, and lucky for you, you knew just what to do to get there.

You relocated your hand in Kenma’s hair to grip it closer to the roots and gather more of it in your hands. The silky soft strands were pliant and easy to manage as they bent to your will. You had always loved Kenma’s hair, but it wasn’t until a few months ago that you had noticed how his eyes would flutter and his breath would hitch when you ran a hand through it and gave it a playful tug. You did a lot more than that now, pulling so hard that Kenma’s head shot back, his bare neck extending and back arching a bit. You watched his eyes squeeze shut, his pouty lips part as he sucked in a sharp breath, eyebrows furrowing as the mix of pleasure and pain brought him closer to the edge right along with you.

“Faster, baby.” You whispered. “I’m so close. Wanna cum.”

Another harsh tug. Kenma let out a long drawn out moan, his neck and chest flushed and skin shiny with sweat. His arms struggled to hold him up, trembling under the weight of the sensations going through his body. But his hips didn’t fail you. He was frantic, pounding into you so hard and fast that it made your body stiffen up. Fuck, that was just right. And as your muscles locked, your orgasm washing over you, you tugged harshly on Kenma’s hair, an involuntary action that pushed him over the edge too, slamming his cock deep into you before releasing hot and white inside you, eyes rolling up and mouth dropping open. He rutted into you, moaning and shuddering as wave after wave of wonderful high traveled through his body, lighting stars behind his tightly closed eyelids.

You cooed and praised him when he collapsed on you, breathing heavily, body still shaking. You ran soothing fingertips through his sensitive head, softly scratching where you knew you had pulled the hardest, until his muscles were loosening up and he slumped completely, his weight entirely on you. Kenma hummed his appreciation, nuzzling his face into your neck. You smiled.

Taglist:

@bxbyyyjocelyn @thisbicc @lazuliquartz @dreamayy @kuroosluthoe @true-form-hoe @akumakitsune21 @cham0mil3-and-h0n3y @samisfunky @universal-s1ut @msbyomimi @dohwaesu @leothesquishy @n0tmykays @tsukiran @reyofsunshinelol @bleach-your-panties @galaneiaeris @leyra-giovanni @erenspersonalwh0re @peachesncats @soapsoftheworld @iwannabecamiloshovel l @vintagevict0ria @smithieandy @moonlit-mizukage @snazzyturtles @argwein

A/N: For those whose tags arent working, im sorry! I tried and for some reason, your names wont show up in the mentions :( another way of being notified is to turn on my blog notifs for @teamatsumufics . I only reblog my fics there so it serves almost like being in a taglist!

[makies]

" Dom or Sub ? " with Honkai Star Rail men

:: Gepard, Jing Yuan, Blade

Gepard — Shy Dom

I strongly believe that Gepard is a shy dom. With him being innocent and having no experience in giving pleasure to someone else since he's very devoted in his job and is very busy being the captain of the silvermane guards.

But of course he still wants to make you feel good <3

Still, he is very shy so make sure to give him a lot of praise !

"A-am I doing good, [Y/n] ?" He asked, groaning in pleasure as his hips move on their own, biting on his lower lips, closing his eyes shut as he presses his forehead in your shoulders. You just felt too good — it's addicting.

"Yes gepard– hmm, doing so well. A little faster, baby." You replied, holding in his head and slightly ruffling his hair.

"Y-yes ma'am."

Jing Yuan — Lazy Switch

A switch but prefers being sub !

He really likes it when you bounce up and down his cock, trying so hard to reach your high while he just sits there, watching the show you're giving him.

When he's the top, he's a slow but deep type of a fucker. Reaching deep — keeping a slow pace but still making a mess out of you.

"Yu, too–ah– too tired, legs– hng, hurts..." you finally get to say a word in between your moans as you keep on bouncing on his cock — too desperate to cum.

He just remained silent, a small smile forming on his lips, still keeping his position with one hand in your hips and a hand placed on his cheeks.

"Yu, fuck me already!" you said— irritated. Your legs already giving up as you press yourself on his chest, cock still inside you.

"I think you forgot something, dear." He stated, chuckling.

"Please... please fuck me already."

Blade — Mean Dom

Totally a mean dom in bed — raining you with degradation, totally the opposite of Jing yuan who wouldn't even let you speak during the session.

If you hear him slip out a moan or a grunt, you didn't hear anything <3

Likes hearing and seeing you cry out his name.

"Blade! W-wait, too fast!" you cried out making the raven haired man pull your hair, slapping your ass as he continued to slam into you.

"I don't remember giving you permission to speak." He uttered, gripping harder into your hair — a smirk forming on his lips when he felt you tighten around his cock.

"Liking getting your hair pulled, your ass getting slapped and being talked down, don't you? Hah, of course you do. Cause you're my pretty little whore, my personal cock slave."

"Now go cry my name louder like a slut you are."

[Honkai star rail List]

[saddled-on-stars]

Hello! Could you please do movie Beetlejuice with a(n adult) reader summoning him with the only purpose to ask for cuddles? She didn't expect the ritual to actually work and is extremely shy, so when he shows up she's absolutely embarrased for having him come over to do something as mundane as cuddling. Thank you!

Damn y'all are thirsty for Keatlejuice- (NO HATE I SWEAR, It's just that a lot of requests have been for Keatlejuice lmao) I really should watch the movie, lmao- Again, to tell you what I tell others for Keatlejuice and Toonjuice, I can't guarantee that it will be 100% accurate, as I've never watched the cartoon or the movies, but I'm hoping to soon! Please feel free to criticize if it isn't correct! BUT LOWKEY THIS IS SO CUTE I WILL DO MY BEST, DARLING! SORRY IT WAS SO LATE!! Happy reading! - Star ★

-★-★-★-★-★-★-★- Trigger Warnings: Explicit Language, *slight* Mentions of Perverted Boss, *subtle* mentions of cycle. -★-★-★-★-★-★-★- Key: ★ (This fic is specifically for a female reader!) ★ (Y/N) = Your Name ★ (L/N) = Last Name -★-★-★-★-★-★-★-

- ★ - Summoned Snuggles - ★ -

You're lying face-down on your soft, cool mattress, feeling the soft sheets beneath your fingertips. You groan into your pillow, exhausted from the day it's been; your boss had you working the 14-hour shift instead of your typical 8-hour.

He's already an asshole as it is, he didn't have to make it worse by performing his perverted acts like squeezing your hip and brushing your thigh, which you did not consent to. Ugh, he's such a fucking perv, and you're sick of it.

To top it all off, it's that time of the month for you. Great. Cramps take over your lower abdomen, causing you to hold your stomach tighter, and wince from time to time.

A headache begins to take form in your brain, and it causes you to rub your temples, despite it not doing anything to help the pulsing in your head. Ugh, you just wish this week could end; it's only Wednesday.

Your headache pauses for a brief moment, as a small, simple idea pops into your head, causing a small shy smile to spread across your face. His hugs were always nice. They seemed to erase any pain, mostly mental, but that didn't matter.

You finally saunter out of bed and stumble over to your closet, ready to change out of that fucking itchy uniform, with a button-up white shirt, that shows off your cleavage way too much, the skirt being much too short for your liking at all. You didn't like showing off your body to the public, let alone that nasty boss of yours.

Shutting your closet door, you lock it, afraid as if something were to come in and see you exposed, even though you know full well that there's not. He wouldn't be here unless you summon him.

Finally exiting your closet, after what feels like hours of having to stand with that throbbing headache, you plop onto your bed once more. You're now wearing a pair of comfy fitness shorts, a hoodie that smells like a foggy day in a way, and your favorite pair of fuzzy socks that reach up to just below your knees, providing perfect comfort.

That familiar shy smile returns to your lips, the corners turning up slowly, but that smile quickly fades as a wince comes through, due to another headache-cramp combo. You hold your head, and lean up against the pillows that are leaning against your headboard as you groan in pain. 'Ugh, I really want him here, but I don't want to bother him! What if he's busy? What if he doesn't want to talk to me? Does he even like snuggles?-...', your thoughts say as they wrack your brain. Suddenly, a jolt of confidence flows through you, as if your body's telling you that you need to summon him. Eh, what the heck, you're in a little too much pain to care. What could go wrong?

The bedroom is still dimly lit from the lamp on your nightstand, casting soft shadows on the walls, providing the room with that comforting appearance. You transition your legs to cross in a sitting position on your bed, excited for what's to come.

"Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice."

You close your eyes and smile, knowing that he'll appear in front of you any second.

"It's showtime~.", you hear his familiar raspy voice say.

You open your eyes to see that startling, yet familiar puff of green smoke, and standing there is your favorite demon boyfriend; or really your only one for that matter.

"Howdy, Babes!", he says with a strange twirl, rather a spin on his heels, but it never fails to amuse you, causing you to giggle. Even though you've seen him countless times, you take in the sight of him.

He's wearing his typical striped suit, still spotted with green spots from here to there, but you don't mind. His hair, still sticking out in all different directions, looks even softer today, causing you to smile. His eyes are their typical deep ocean blue, and it never ceases to make you stare slightly, and those blue orbs still have the black orbs surrounding them outside of the eye.

"Hi, BJ.", you reply with a soft smile, your giggle ceasing, as you begin to fiddle with your fingernails in nervousness.

He notices your actions immediately and comes and sits across from you on the bed, using his finger to bring your head up from your lap.

"Why don't-chya tell me what's wrong, toots.", he says with comforting eyes, which isn't usually like him, but you like seeing this side of him too.

"Just-... A rough day at work, that's all!", you say with a fake smile, trying to brush it off. Oh no, you don't want to seem needy! Not. One. Bit. However, he seems to see right through that smile, and his smile slightly falters.

"Babes. I'm a dead guy. I've fuckin' seen a lot. A LOT. Did ya need me for something specific?"

No, no, no. You really don't want to sound needy, and you also didn't want to summon him for no reason. Oh boy, the truth is the only option left.

"Just-... uhm-...", you stutter as you're now chewing at your fingernails.

"A-Are you alright-... if w-we s-snuggle?"

Your eyes are squeezed shut, so much that you aren't able to see him extend his arms and pull you into his lap. You're startled at first, but eventually open your eyes, to see him with his back to the headboard, and he's inviting you to lay your head on his torso.

This is comfy for you. It feels like home, in ways you could never describe with words. Without another thought, grateful that he accepted your request, you let your arms wrap around his stomach, causing his hand to rub circles on your back.

"I gotchya, Babes. I've always gotchya."

"I know you do.", you reply as you snuggle deeper into his chest. "I love you, BJ."

"I love you too, Babes."

- ★ - Written by Saddled_On_Stars - ★ -

[thisfanisgonesorry]

ironhead — hobie brown

i got possessed and had an epiphany because to me this just makes SO MUCH sense. also i HATE writing accents fuck off. kinda mid i lowkey struggled w the dialogue idc the main point is that brother ties you up. i promise ill write him better if i write him again im just. THOUGHTS THOUGHTS THOUGHTS.

🕷

tags: smut, bondage, shibari, light dom/sub, i dont think hed like power dynamics, however; mutual light teasing (not a huge amount of dialogue, bros mouth is busy). tit play (i dont usually write this one, oh god), aftercare duh, lots of kisses cos holy fucking shit his lips look so nice SJAJAJA

(my reqs are open pleasepleasepleaseplease, ill write most of the guys from spv, pleasepleaseplease)

guys my beta reader died while reading this.. i hope its okay

🕷

“How does tha’ feel? Not dodgy?” He asked, tugging on the webbing. I was sitting on the bed, leaning against a pile of pillows as he made sure the web-ropes were secure and done up properly.

“Good.” I spoke, and he gestured for him to keep talking so he could make sure everything was going to go smoothly. “Uh, not too tight but not too loose. It’s fine, I think. Feels sticky.”

"Want me to walk you through this?” He asked, his hands resting on my knees. “This is a spiral futomomo, can y’move y’legs?”

“No.” I spoke, trying to move my legs, only able to shut my thighs together.

“This is just a basic star harness, usually don’t have the arms tied up. This one does ‘cause y’can’t keep your ‘ands to y’self.” He speaks briefly, his main goal is to get the point across to keep this all safe, and his secondary goal is to push my buttons as frequently as he can. He slapped the side of my tit, watching it bounce slightly. I took a sharp inhale at the unexpected feeling, and he used it as his chance to pinch my nipple harshly. “Then there’s a dragonfly sleeve to make sure y’stay still. Can you move?”

“No..”

“Good.” He spoke with another harsh tug and another slap, his eyes were glazed slightly as he admired the slight red hand print forming on the squishy flesh, forming very quickly — faster than he anticipated, the skin was just so delicate.

He repositioned us slightly, kneeling closer to me and trying to pull me to sit on his lap despite my efforts in keeping my legs shut.

“Darlin’, show me that pretty li’l cunt.”

I reluctantly spread my legs and he pulled me to sit on his thighs, nuzzling into my neck and pressing soft kisses into the skin.

“Can I get a snog?” I teased slightly.

“Don’t be cheeky.” He said firmly, ignoring me completely and lowering himself to my chest; making keen eye contact with me as he pressed a kiss on the reddening hand print, wrapping his plump lips softly around the areola.

He nipped at the skin slightly as his hand reached up to the other. He groped it for a moment, before pinching the nipple in his hand. There wasn’t an abundance of volume besides the wet sounds his mouth was making, though he noticed the way I writhed in his touch, groaning silently and breathing heavily.

His other hand dipped to between my thighs, feeling the wetness before rubbing his fingers in circles around the clit.

“That’s it.” He praised slightly, whispering into my flesh. “Good girl.”

I began to grind down onto his hand, feeling him enjoy his time with my tits. I sighed, throwing my head back and struggling against the sticky ropes. 

“Baby..”

“Stop squirming.” He warned.

I knew I had no hope of getting out of his webs, and if I did, there’d probably be a consequence to fucking up what he wanted to do but god, he looked so delectable. So touchable. I helplessly tried to grind myself on his fingers, trying to distract myself from the way my arms were tied to me.

“C’mon, ask nicely. I know y’want more.”

“Pretty please? Need more.” I asked sweetly.

His own need began taking over him and it was blatantly obvious; I could feel his rock hard dick pressing against my thigh through his pants.

“Y’sound so nice like that.”

He slipped his fingers inside me. groaning and bucking his hips as he felt the soft, wet walls. His thumb slowly rubbed my clit as his index and middle worked in a ‘come hither’ motion. He worked me slowly, planning to drag this out as long as possible for his own enjoyment. His movements were meticulous, extremely preplanned, like he’d been sitting on this fantasy for a long time, but that strategic energy didn’t last long.

“You’re so fuckin’ hot, love.” He groaned, trying to pronounce his words clearly despite his lust filled slur. He could feel the slight clench around his fingers, and the rest of his body got greedy with want.

“Keep doin’ that, right there, Hobes.”

He pressed his tongue flat against the nipple, opening his mouth enough to look erotic; He sat like there for a moment, catching my attention to watch him, a low groan crawling its way out of my throat. He had a smug grin as he moved to bite and suck on the flesh, his other hand no longer methodical, all it portrayed was an incessant need.

I let out a loud moan. “Fuck, that’s so good.”

Feeling the tight, squishy walls of my insides sent him into a desire filled stupor, doing nothing but greedily grabbing what he could as he worked me closer to orgasm. The feeling of his talented hands moving against my nerves was doing wonders, and it was doing those wonders quite fast.

He began grinding his hard dick against my thigh. “Y’so..” He groaned. “Bloody hell, you’re wretched.” He tried to joke.

“Coming from you.” I bit back, throwing my head back again as he kept fucking his fingers into me and torturing my tits.

“Wanted.. Had it all planned out. You’ve fucked it, yeah? So fuckin’ hot. Can’t resist.”

“Not my fault you got worked up so fast.”

“Don’t.” He grunted with a harsh bite. “You’re so tight, love, need to bury my cock in you. Need..” He groaned.

“Keep talkin’ like that and I’m gonna cum.”

“Need’a feel y’cum around my fingers. On my prick. Let me feel that tight cunt, baby. Gonna fuck you all night long.” He rambled, pressing soft kisses on the flesh, watching the flowering bruises form.

He could sense the impending orgasm as my breathing got heavy and rapid, grinding against his hand messily and squirming at the restraints. 

“Shit..”

“You’re so close.” He taunted. “Let me feel it.”

My mouth opened and closed like I was gasping for air, his mouth trailed from my tits, up to my collarbone, neck, jaw and eventually landed intoxicatingly sweetly on my mouth. 

“Hobes.” I moaned into his mouth and he swallowed it with a welcoming groan.

“Y’re so pretty like this ‘n we still ‘ave all night.” He spoke, pulling my body closer to his as he moved his mouth to the other breast, planning to mark it up too.

“Mhm. I’m gonna—”

“Please.”

That was it. I couldn’t survive much longer, I tried to tug on the ropes but to no avail as I began clenching desperately around his fingers.

“Hobie, Hobie..” I moaned.

“Y/n, Y/n.” He moaned back in an attempt to mock me.

I slumped down, resting my head on his shoulder as I moaned loudly, letting myself unwind and cum all over his fingers. I kept struggling against the ropes and he grabbed my wrists, trying to hold it in place as he groaned at the feeling of my spasming cunt. He kept trying to fuck into me as I came down from the high.

I gasped and panted for air, leaning against him and he pulled his drenched fingers out, sticking them in his beautiful mouth before whispering. “Keep strugglin’ and you’re gonna hurt yourself.” He spoke, not as a warning but as a statement.

“Wanna touch you.”

“That’s why the ropes are there, love.” He breathed heavily, grinding his aching cock against the wetness, ruining his jeans slightly. “God.” He grunted. “You’re so sexy.” 

“Go on.” I rolled my eyes sarcastically, leaning forward to kiss him.

— When he says ‘all night’, he really means it.

🕷

BONUS ROUND:

“Don’t fall asleep on me, darlin'.” He spoke as he quickly cut the webbing around my arms, before struggling to take off the harness without moving me around too much, laying me down on the soft pillows.

“Rope burn.” I mumbled tiredly, rubbing my wrists the second they were free.

“That wouldn’t have happened if you didn’t squirm so much.”

I let out a hum as an indirect response to let him know I acknowledge it. He removed the harness and began kissing my wrists slightly, looking up at me with soft eyes. He placed quick kisses on my neck where the rope dug into the skin as he lazily sliced open the fotomomo knots.

The second that one of my legs were free, he gently grabbed my calf and pulled the leg out so it laid straight

“Move around, stretch ‘em out.” He directed.

I moved my legs around, trying to get the stiffness out as he held my calf, pressing soft kisses into the skin before quickly untying the other and doing the same.

“Keep stretchin’ it, good girl.”

Once both legs were stretched out and he was satisfied with the amount of kisses littered over them, he raised back to my body, pressing a soft kiss on my lips.

“Can you get me a shirt?” I asked weakly with a grin.

He sucked his teeth as he got up, looking for one of his shirts that I could put one on and comfortably sleep in.

“Next time, I’m tying a vibrator between your legs.” He joked as he dug through the wardrobe.

✰ pt 2 >> LET ME HEAR YOU SCREAM

[facelesswoman666]

Master atreides, here is your bride!

Paul atreides x female oc

You, a young virgin to be betrothed to Paul of house Atreides, spend your days wandering the palace being neglected by your husband to be and his royal duties. His lack of attention gives you cause to be upset, and your upset gives him cause to make it up to you, in many ways. ✨

This is a smutty story, not too long but just enjoy xo

As per usual minors DNI 18+

Warnings - Soft dom paul. Paul giving you lots of praise. Paul acting like a lovesick puppy. penetration. Fluids✨ mixing together. A little bit of mild forceful violence. Pet names. The reader acting like a lustful whore.

Nothing new occurred where she was. it was vast, the desert sand, course to those who could not interpret its song. The cool floors that were the base of the great Atreides palace were a foe of the sun and a friend of the young Paul’s promised bride. In this heat her tendencies were to wander the halls for hours; searching for a release from boredom. His mother had endeavoured to win the girls favour as per usual, it was running into dead ends at every turn. There was no prying open a heart of frozen stone, at least not for the time being. The table, beautifully set, the lighting, lowered to a dull gold, the company, silent.

Paul had clearly done something to upset his betrothed, seeing as she was glaring daggers into his body, so tense the wounds almost felt feasible to see. ‘my star’ he mouthed, his eyes downturning in a pained frown ‘i did not mean to upset you so’ Her face turned away, nonsense it all was, this life she wished no part of. ‘my star’ he spoke aloud, his voice ached with the desperation of a man who felt love so strongly it crushed him. ‘my darling, if i have to beg for you in the view of my entire family i would, i will, just say the word’

The heat of embarrassment glowed now on her cheeks and she scoffed, peering blankly towards the ceiling in an effort to distract from the pathetic display. ‘Paul, i really do not wish to entertain this’ This was a command, not an ask. Nonetheless, it was taken as a challenge. Arrogance is a mans best friend, or so he loves to think. ‘entertain what’ he abruptly stood from the table, lowering himself onto all fours.

‘Paul-wha-what are you doing?’ she queried in dismay. He did not dignify her question with an answer, his eyes averted to the ground, and he crawled slowly towards her chair. Prey to be devoured. “Paul your mother is here” she ground out, gesturing with her fingers to Lady Jessica, who was looking indefinitely shocked seated at the head of the table.

“Mother” he said simply “leave us. Please” And that was all it took, four simple words formed from his perfectly soft lips. His mother took her leave and shut the door with a gentle thud upon exiting.

He stood, gracefully, his knees bending as he rose from his lowly position and strode the rest of the way across the room to her. “Would you prefer to stand on your own? Or shall i make you?” He quirked an eyebrow in questioning, as if he expected an immediate response to his demand. She shrugged, and smirked slightly. then he snapped, hauling her from her seat, restraining her arms at the small of her back.

He Shoved her forward into the table. Her pelvic bone slammed roughly against the giant sandstone slab, perched upon thick legs of the same material. She winced, Paul knew it wouldn’t hurt her, he was inadmissibly careful with his beloved to cause her unsolicited pain. He caressed her cheek, stroking up and down as he bent her over, and whispering lewd things quietly into her ear.

“We will not miscommunicate again, do you understand me my star?” He began lifting her layers of skirt, rolling the fabric up her legs to reveal the prize he so coveted. “You must speak to me, i only wish to please you.” A tender open mouthed kiss was planted in between her shoulder blades -causing the skin to form goosebumps in his lustful wake - after her corset had been ripped away. She heard a belt unbuckling, and the weakening of her knees was imminent.

The wetness forming, seeped from her and she knew that the core between her thighs was growing hotter by the second. Perhaps the room was just very warm, she hoped that was the case. A low grunt could be heard behind her, as well a weak thrust into her ass to gain any friction. He was so needy. “i’m going to please you now my star, but this must not be spoken of, we are not yet married.”

He grasped her hips firmly, harshly forcing her further into the table, and rubbed his hardened self against her damp folds. A symphony of moans escaped them both, and spurred them on equally. ‘oh, my star, you’re so-oh-so beautifully wet.” His praises brought a sweet shade of pink across her cheeks. He thrust a little further, entering her by mere inches.

How good it felt to be stretched by him, her jaw hung slack, her eyelids fluttered momentarily. Her pupils engorged to the point of hysteria. “Paul, this is, so good” she whimpered, her hands still glued to the small of her back, clawing to be released from his clasp. Perhaps so that she could react more eagerly to his sloppy thrusting. In and out, delicately, of her hole that was soaked with juices of her own creation and slickness of his secretion.

Paul’s hips stuttered up and his crotch buried into the flesh around her core, and raising himself on to the soles of his feet, adjusting his height, to angle himself deeper into her, grasping feverishly for the release of pent up pleasure. He released her hands momentarily to slam his palms down on the wooden surface and ravage her pussy underneath him with the force of anything but kindness.

She whined, meekly and to which he returned by groaning above her “My star, i want to see my cum dribble out your warm pussy, you’re being so good. Don’t stop.” His adoration abetted her to inch her behind further into him, and her body jerked sporadically with every recurring thrust of his pelvis. Paul faltered above her for seconds, his fingers gripped her hips aggressively, creating an anchor for his weakening body, allowing him to spill his seed into her.

His neck fell lax, going limp as he gave way to the pulsation of his orgasm inside her. She felt him throb intensely, white liquid squeezing out of him and painting her innermost walls white and sticky. It was the sweetest feeling, to be his and to feel him. His panting fused with a quiet whimpering whisper that he clearly did not desire for her to hear. His subconscious thrusting ceased as his orgasm faded away through waves becoming increasingly weak by the second.

Paul collapsed above her, pleasured, hot, still whispering “It’s your turn to come my star, since you did so well”

[hearts-4-vicky]

ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ꜱᴛᴜᴘɪᴅ ✧

ahn yujin

warnings: angst , (might be shitty tho cuz ive never written angst b4..) swearing.., lots of dialogue holy shit they yap a lot, aouad au, major character death(s) , yujins a FUCKING loser, unrequited love kinda.., blood n other nasty stuff so bewareeee if you’re sensitive to that kind of stuff🫡

wc: 1.3k (woah)

hi m like sad rn so yeah yay mwah😘

“yujin”

“yn”

the two of you found yourselves star gazing on the rooftop, using it as an escape from the cruel reality you were living in

“do you think this will ever go back to normal?”

the girl paused, not wanting to demolish any sliver of hope you had left in your bruised body

“of course i do.. why? you doubting me?”

yujin playfully pouted at you, poking at your thigh

“huh? what- no. . I trust you”

an awkward silence developed between you two

“hey” yujin started

you looked towards her, waiting for her to continue

“m sorry bout earlier. . i didnt-“

you socked her in the arm.

“HOLY SHIT what the actual FUCK.”

the girl started to complain, though it fell upon deaf ears

“dude, i told ya it was okay. i shouldve made more attention”

leaning your head on the taller’s shoulder, you rubbed the spot where she was hit. you felt yujin stiffen at the lack of space between the two of you but you chose to ignore it

“ynnie.”

“yunjinniee”

“your ankle is getting worse..”

your gaze followed where her finger pointed at, there you noticed how swollen and discolored your ankle had gotten

“pfft- s whatever! ill jus walk it off-“

BANG!

both of you searched for where the commotion was, finding a few monsters had gotten to the rooftops entrance

yujin had to act fast, each time she struggled to make a decision could mean your death.

“fuck. yn can you walk?”

“uh- y-yeah. . i think”

yujin was too in her head to hear the last thing you said before she grabbed your arm and booked it to the other entrance, she slammed open the door, not thinking about the other zombies in the school

dragging you down the stairs, she watched as 3 more of those things saw the both of you

she froze.

“yn . . i-“

“GO!”

she heard a door slam open and felt the impact of the floor against her back

“ow- fuck. wait- yn?”

yujin watched as the door stayed open, your figure on the floor

“ynnie. . cmon! those things are getting closer!”

you crawled to the door while yujin got up to shut the door after you entered

pulling you to the corner of the classroom, you both began to catch your breath, grateful that this room was empty . .

a minute passed by before yujin looked at your disheveled form, feeling guilty once again

“hey- hey um.. im so so sorry this happened, god you have cuts on your face! fuck. if only-“

you put a finger to her lips.

“ stop rambling, i should be okay by tomorrow . .”

seeing the girls pout, you gave her a quick peck on the cheek

though it didnt help at all

“im in love with you.” she confessed

“what? are you serious?” you whispered, backing away from the girl

“oh. um yeah. . sorry the timing is so shitty..”

“you think so? oh my god yujin. i already told you we cant be together like this! plus, we nearly died out there what the fuck do you mean you’re in love with me?”

“m sorry really but i couldn’t help it. . i thought i shoulda told you cause what if we do die?”

“shut up.”

“okay. yes ma’am”

“ma’am?”

“ i meant yn. .”

you heard the girls voice break with each sentence, nearly making you cry but it would alert the monsters outside

minutes passed by. you only heard the screams of other students, before they were soon turned into just another shell of the person they once were

“y-yn” yujin whispered

“yujin. .”

“. . why cant you love me as much as i love you?”

“. . . you know i can't ans-“

“you say that every single time! please, just. . just say it.”

looking at the heartbroken girl tore you apart, if only this world hadnt changed so drastically, you could be happy with yujin

“ i want to be with you yujin. really, i do but . . you know im not here anymore.”

hearing that made the taller girl shiver. her vision getting more and more blurry with each second of silence between the two,

“oh. . r-right, fuck yeah you’re right”

she brought her knees to her chest, clinging onto them as if it were her dead lover, wanting to feel the warmth of anything in her arms,

“man. . this-this really fucking sucks”

yujins voice began to break due to her realization that you really were dead. she didnt save you. she couldn’t save you. how pathetic was that? the only person she cared about dead. dead, all because she didnt think quick enough.

“ i know . . though, please know im sorry for whats going to happen”

“huh?-“

BANG!

the girl’s eyes snapped to the classroom door, through the glass she saw the face of the one she cherished most, amongst the mahogany colored blood and drool . . yujin recognized that face, how could she not? she grew to love every ‘imperfection’ you thought you had. she always thought you were the most breathtaking woman she ever laid eyes on, no flaw could ever lessen the amount of love yujin had for you

but she had failed you. she promised to keep you safe, with every part of her soul. it didnt seem to be enough . . since you here were, lunging at yujin with no thought in your head.

the remnant of sanity you had was gone, as the husk of the person you once were started clawing at yujins torso

she felt every bone in her body break into brittle pieces, making yujin open her eyes

as she gazed into your bloodshot eyes she wondered how things would’ve went if she pulled you into the room quicker.

each passing second was like hell, struggling to breathe as you had broken through her skin

coughing up the crimson liquid was loud enough to alert the other monsters to yujins location,

wanting to look at her lover’s face for the last time, she noticed a small tear slide down your dirtied face

yujin wiped it away just before a hoard of zombies decided to help finish her off

at least the both of you would be together, right?

.

.

.

a group of survivors discovered the classroom yujin had passed in, they found a letter dedicated to you

“𝓣𝓸 𝓶𝔂 𝓨𝓷

𝓔𝓪𝓬𝓱 𝓭𝓪𝔂 𝓘 𝓼𝓹𝓮𝓷𝓭 𝔀𝓲𝓽𝓱 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓘 𝓯𝓮𝓮𝓵 𝓶𝓸𝓻𝓮 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓶𝓸𝓻𝓮 𝓭𝓮𝓿𝓸𝓽𝓮𝓭 𝓽𝓸 𝓴𝓮𝓮𝓹𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓼𝓪𝓯𝓮 𝓲𝓷 𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓼 𝓱𝓮𝓵𝓵 𝓱𝓸𝓵𝓮. 𝓔𝓪𝓬𝓱 𝓭𝓪𝔂 . . 𝓘 𝓯𝓲𝓷𝓭 𝓶𝔂𝓼𝓮𝓵𝓯 𝓯𝓪𝓵𝓵𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓱𝓪𝓻𝓭𝓮𝓻 𝓯𝓸𝓻 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻 ��𝓪𝓽𝓾𝓻𝓪𝓵 𝓬𝓱𝓪𝓻𝓶. 𝓘 𝓻𝓮𝓰𝓻𝓮𝓽 𝓷𝓸𝓽 𝓽𝓮𝓵𝓵𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓫𝓮𝓯𝓸𝓻𝓮 𝓪𝓵𝓵 𝓸𝓯 𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓼 𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓹𝓮𝓷𝓮𝓭, 𝓽𝓱𝓸𝓾𝓰𝓱 𝓘 𝓴𝓷𝓸𝔀 𝓲𝓽 𝔀𝓸𝓾𝓵𝓭 𝓬𝓸𝓶𝓹𝓵𝓲𝓬𝓪𝓽𝓮 𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼 𝓯𝓾𝓻𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓻. 𝓘’𝓶 𝓰𝓵𝓪𝓭 𝓘 𝓱𝓪𝓭 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓸𝓹𝓹𝓸𝓻𝓽𝓾𝓷𝓲𝓽𝔂 𝓽𝓸 𝓱𝓪𝓿𝓮 𝓼𝓮𝓮𝓷 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓼𝓲𝓭𝓮𝓼 𝓸𝓯 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓷𝓸𝓷𝓮 𝓱𝓪𝓭 𝓼𝓮𝓮𝓷 𝓫𝓮𝓯𝓸𝓻𝓮. . 𝓘 𝓴𝓷𝓸𝔀 𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓼 𝓶𝓪𝔂 𝓼𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓭 𝓼𝓽𝓾𝓹𝓲𝓭, 𝓫𝓾𝓽 𝓘 𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝔂𝓷. 𝓜𝓸𝓻𝓮 𝓽𝓱𝓪𝓷 𝓪𝓷𝔂 𝔀𝓸𝓻𝓭 𝓲𝓷 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓽𝓱𝓸𝓾𝓼𝓪𝓷𝓭𝓼 𝓸𝓯 𝓵𝓪𝓷𝓰𝓾𝓪𝓰𝓮𝓼 𝔀𝓮 𝓱𝓪𝓿𝓮 𝓲𝓷 𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓼 𝔀𝓸𝓻𝓵𝓭 𝓬𝓸𝓾𝓵𝓭 𝓬𝓸𝓷𝓿𝓮𝔂. 𝓘’𝓶 𝓼𝓸𝓻𝓻𝔂 𝓪𝓵𝓵 𝓸𝓯 𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓼 𝓲𝓼 𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓹𝓮𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓽𝓸 𝓼𝓾𝓬𝓱 𝓪 𝓰𝓮𝓷𝓽𝓵𝓮 𝓼𝓸𝓾𝓵 𝓪𝓼 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻𝓼. . 𝓘 𝓻𝓮𝓰𝓻𝓮𝓽 𝓶𝓪𝓷𝔂 𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼 𝓽𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓹𝓮𝓷𝓮𝓭 𝓲𝓷 𝓶𝔂 𝓵𝓲𝓯𝓮 𝓫𝓾𝓽, 𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝔀𝓸𝓾𝓵𝓭 𝓷𝓮𝓿𝓮𝓻 𝓫𝓮 𝓸𝓷𝓮 𝓸𝓯 𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓶. 𝓘 𝔀𝓲𝓼𝓱 𝔀𝓮 𝓬𝓸𝓾𝓵𝓭 𝓼𝓮𝓽𝓽𝓵𝓮 𝓭𝓸𝔀𝓷 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓰𝓻𝓸𝔀 𝓸𝓵𝓭 𝓽𝓸𝓰𝓮𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓻, 𝓽𝓱𝓸𝓾𝓰𝓱 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝔀𝓸𝓻𝓵𝓭 𝓲𝓼 𝓪 𝓬𝓻𝓾𝓮𝓵 𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓷𝓰, 𝓻𝓲𝓹𝓹𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓪𝓹𝓪𝓻𝓽 𝓪𝓷𝔂 𝓭𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓶𝓼 𝓸𝓯 𝓷𝓸𝓻𝓶𝓪𝓵 𝓵𝓲𝓯𝓮 𝓪𝓰𝓪𝓲𝓷. 𝓨𝓷, 𝓘 𝓽𝓻𝓾𝓵𝔂 𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝔀𝓲𝓽𝓱 𝓪𝓵𝓵 𝓸𝓯 𝓶𝔂 𝓱𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓽, 𝓪𝓵𝓵 𝓸𝓯 𝓶𝔂 𝓼𝓸𝓾𝓵.

𝓕𝓸𝓻𝓮𝓿𝓮𝓻 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻𝓼,

𝓐𝓱𝓷 𝓨𝓾𝓳𝓲𝓷.”

pls don burn me at the stake cuz i wrote. rhrisd😞🙏

anyways.. stay safe n i love you guys so so much

- vicky 💋

[mediocre-writerr]

love quinn x fem!reader where reader celebrates valentine’s day with love like she baked and prepared dinner just like love had taught her before and reader paid attention to make this day special for her. everything is a surprise btw but as we know love she was starting to freak out a bit thinking reader is being distant and secretive but all turned out well. anyways lots of fluff 💖

-🎈

banana pancakes [love quinn]

love quinn x fem!reader

warnings: a few curse words

mediocre author's note: hey guys! happy belated valentine's day, hope it was full of love in all different forms. love you guys!

Your location was off…why was your location off? Your location was never off. Love swiped out the app, only to re enter it seconds later. It had to be some kind of tech issue right? Your location wasn’t actually off…right? Wrong. Sure enough your location was still off. 

Love let out a huff, as she shut off her phone, throwing it onto the metal counter in the kitchen of Anavrin. The brunette closed her eyes, resting her head on the cool metal door of the fridge, as she took deep breaths. ‘I trust her’ she repeats to herself over and over in her head, like a troubled school child writing ‘I’m sorry’ on their paper repeatedly. It was odd to her. It was Valentine’s Day, the day of love, and you were completely ignoring her. Only sending a ‘Happy Valentine’s Day’ text to start off her morning. 

Everything seemed fine then, so what changed? 

You were stressed, like really stressed. It was your first actual Valentine’s Day with someone you truly love. You wanted to make something perfect for the first time. The only problem? You can’t cook to save your life, despite Love teaching you her favorite recipes. 

“Oh for fucks sake!” You yell, opening your apartment door to let all the smoke out of your house before you set off the fire alarm. You take a deep breath, resting your head against the cool metal rail, as you try to get your shit together. This needs to be perfect. Everything needs to be perfect. 

Your head snaps up, as someone’s voice calls your attention. “Hey Gordon Ramsey, I see cooking is going super well for you. A solid five Michelin Stars!” your sometimes favorite 15 year old teases from right next to you. 

“Not now, Ellie. I keep fucking up the recipe and Love gets off work in like 3 hours and nothing is ready,” you vent to the brunette, as you begin to pace the small pathway between apartments. 

She rolls her eyes at you, “Dude, chill out. You’re stressing out about this way too much.”

“I’m sorry, I just want everything to be perfect.”

“And that’s the problem,” she shows herself into your apartment. 

You scoff, rolling your eyes, “Sure Ellie, you can come in,” you say before mocking her voice. “Oh gee thanks Y/N. You’re the best.” 

You follow in after her, a fearful expression on her face as she looks at the steak you attempted to cook. The entire piece burnt to a crisp, she cuts into it, nibbling a tiny piece out of the corner. Her mouth immediately opens, dropping the tiny piece onto the dirty counter. “I didn’t think anyone could be this bad at cooking,” she admits, grabbing a glass of water to wash down the taste. “Like, I actually think you used sugar to season the steak and not salt.”

“Ellie, if you’re just gonna sit here and tell me how shit I am, you can just leave. I already know all of that,” you swing the front door open, gesturing for her to leave.

“Oh stop that ‘poor me’ bullshit,” she tells you, causing your eyebrows to furrow at her sudden tone. “This is why nothing is working out. You’re trying to be perfect. It doesn’t have to be perfect. For some odd reason that I don’t understand, Love is madly in love with you, and no amount of shit steak can change that. So shut the fuck up and just stop trying so hard!” 

Then it all clicks in your head. One of your first dates, she mentioned the simplicity, yet perfect bite of roasted chicken. Nothing too extravagant or special, but a dish that is strong with flavor, yet still feels like it's made by someone who cares. You snap your fingers together, “That’s it, Ellie! You’re a genius! C’mon, we gotta stop at the store!” 

“We?” 

You smile at her, a cockiness written all over it, “Yes we, you just got hired to be my sous chef,” you grabbed your keys, immediately ushering her out of the apartment, and to your car. 

“Oh fuck me,” she mumbled. 

Cooking for Love was supposed to be therapeutic, a way to ease her mind. Unfortunately, for the vegetables she’s cutting right now, it means that they’re receiving a brutal chop. Especially since you left her text message on read, asking what your plans were for tonight. 

A low whistle fills the kitchen as Forty walks in, eyeing his twin, “What did those poor poor celeries do to you?” She shot him a glare without another response, causing him to nod, “Don’t want to talk about it, got it. Let’s talk about something else then. What did Y/N get you for Valentine’s Day? I know she’s got her gift-giving science down to perfection. I told her multiple times to start a business doing that, I’d invest in it, she would make some serious money! I mean can you imagine all the lousy excuses for husbands going to her to buy a gift for their-” 

Forty was abruptly cut off when Love’s knife slammed down onto the metal counter. His eyes wide as he stared at his fuming sister, “It’s 8, I’m off now. I’ll see you later,” she responded in a monotone voice, storming out towards her car with one destination in mind. Your apartment. Whether you were home or not, she’ll let herself in and wait for her, so you could explain yourself to her. 

“God, I hate that you dragged me into this,” Ellie speaks up, through the soft music playing from your speaker. She wiped down the counter, as you set the table with cheesy decorations. 

You shrugged, smirking at her, “If I remember correctly, you butt in yourself. I think it was something about a five Michelin Star rating?” 

She was about to retort when your front door burst open and a seething Love stepped foot into your apartment. You and Ellie stood there wide eyed, not quite sure what happened to make the sometimes intimidating brunette mad. The two of you were bracing yourself for the burst of anger, but it never came. The girl’s frown slowly turned upward into a soft smile. 

“Surprise?” You said, smiling sheepishly at her. You interlock your fingers together, guiding her to her seat at the table. “I made some roasted chicken, and I know you could tell a lot about a chef by their roasted chicken. I just want to say, my roasted chicken will probably tell you I’m a shit chef. But uh, I tried to follow it exactly like you make it, with the potatoes and carrots and reduction, whatever that is. You’ve made it a few times, so I tried to copy from memory.”

Love smiled softly, as you pulled out her chair. “I was trying to make everything perfect, you know? I mean I even turned off my location to go to your favorite donut shop, but they were sold within like ten minutes of opening, and as soon as I got to the front of the line they were closing. So, that threw out the idea of surprising you at work. I almost set fire to my apartment a few times. But I think it turned out okay,” you drift over towards the kitchen, nervously rambling, as you pull out a small little plate of banana pancakes. “I know these aren’t super fancy pastries that you usually bake, but I remember you telling me that you and Forty would make these all the time when your mom was on this no sugar kick. You said it used to be your favorite breakfast and dessert when your were younger, so-” 

You’re immediately cut off when Love grabs the hem of your shirt, attaching her lips deeply onto yours. Your hands fly to the back of her neck, fingers lacing into her hair.

“I’m gonna throw up,” Ellie says, blowing her cheeks up to mock the vomit. The two of you back away from each other, chuckling. 

You let go of Love, walking over towards the kitchen to find a few small plastic containers. You start packing some food into the containers, before handing it to Ellie, “Thank you my sous chef. It was lovely working with you,” you chuckle as she rolls her eyes, trying to fight off a small smile on her face. “I packed enough for both you and Deliliah. Thank you again, really.” 

“Yeah, yeah, don’t get all sappy on me, Chef Ramsey,” she takes the containers from you gratefully, as she bids a goodnight to Love. 

“I love you Ellie!” You exclaim before she leaves. She raises her middle finger towards you without another response. You turn back to Love with a wide smile, “That means she loves me.”

Love chuckles, shaking her head, at your goofy antics with the young girl. “Sure it does,” a fake pout crosses your face as you stand in front of her with your arms crossed. Her hands find your waist pulling you to sit in her lap, “It’s okay though because I love you. Very very much…this was really thoughtful of you Y/N, really.” 

You smile softly, kissing her gently, “I love you more,” you cut a piece of the chicken, giving her a piece with skin, potatoes, carrots, and dipped into the reduction. Just like how she would always tell you to eat it, “Here, try.” 

You watched in her anticipation, biting your bottom lip. Her eyes were neutral as she chewed on what she usually calls the perfect bite. 

“So?” You ask as she finishes chewing. 

A wide smile spreads across her face, nodding, “It’s perfect. You are perfect.” 

[arlana-likes-to-write]

What Was I Made For? By Billie Eillish

Summary: After Yelena returns to Soyna's apartment from failing to kill Clint Barton she begins to question her place in this world. Luckly for her, you are there to lend a helping hand.

Warning: Self-doubt, Fluff, Lots of drinking, mention of Natasha's death, Yelena needs the biggest hug.

Word Count: 2.7k

The front door slammed shut and alerted you to her arrival. But you didn’t get out of bed when you heard the hushed voices of Yelena and Soyna through the door. It was when you heard one set of footsteps storm off, you climbed out of bed and opened the door. You lived with Sonya when she and Yelena exposed you to the Red Dust. She offered you a room until you decided what was next. However, that was the problem. You weren’t sure what was next. All of your life you followed orders and behaved like a good soldier to complete the orders to a man that no longer existed. He could no longer hurt you. What were you to do now? “How is she?” You asked. Soyna was resting her hands on the kitchen counter.

“She didn’t complete the mission,” that was a surprise. Yelena always completed the mission. You didn’t know anything about her newest assignment, just that the target was in New York City and she would be staying here until she finished the job. You sighed, walked over to the fridge, and took out two bottles of vodka.

“I’m guessing she’s on the roof,” you put on your sneakers and winter jacket.

“Zvezda (star),” you stopped before going up the fire escape. “I don’t think she wants to talk to anyone.” You smiled at your friend.

“Well, it’s lucky I’m someone special,” you opened the window and stepped onto the fire escape, closing it behind you. Zvezda it was a nickname Yelena gave you. The Red Room assigned you to a rising crime lord in the New York and New Jersey area. At least that was what Soyna told you. The things you did for them would come in flashes, mostly in nightmares. Once you adjusted to having your mind and body back, you got a tattoo of Saturn on your arm. The planet symbolized stubbornness, stability, and authority. It was for anyone that wished to take control of their life. That was what you needed. A gentle reminder that you were in control of your life and the end of your story. So they tried to give you the nickname of ‘planet’, ‘Saturn’ but you didn’t like any of them until Yelena came up with star. It fit you well.

You stepped onto the roof, the winter air caused goosebumps to form on your legs. “I came up here because I do not want to talk,” Yelena said, without turning around. She sat on the roof’s edge, legs dangling above the city below.

“Good thing I don’t want to talk,” you said, sitting down next to her. It was close enough that you felt the warmth radiating from her but you gave her enough space to not overcrowd her. It was a delicate dance to play with the blonde. You opened the bottle. “Drink.” You offered her it but she didn’t take her eyes off the busy city street below. You took a sip from the bottle, the burn made the hair on the back of your neck stand up. You put the bottle between you and her, leaning back and looking at the city. It was beautiful this time of year. Red and white lights danced in the darkness. You wondered what it was like to celebrate Christmas. Holidays weren’t celebrated in the Red Room. Holidays were used as an easy way to get into a party to find a target. It was another day of training and another night handcuffed to your bed.

“You are going to catch a cold wearing that,” she took a generous sip from the bottle.

“And I thought you didn’t want to talk Belova,” she was wearing her black tactical suit. A smirk was on her face as she took another sip and you picked up the bottle, mirroring her. The other Widows liked to tease you that Yelena had a soft spot for you. She rarely snapped or became annoyed with you but you contributed to not bothering her. You let her exist, not forcing her to talk.

“What did Soyna tell you?” She still refused to look at you.

“You didn’t complete the job,” you shrugged. “I didn’t ask more. Not my place.” It was true. If Yelena refused to kill the man or woman then it had to be a good reason.

“Why are you here then?” Finally, she looked at you. Her green eyes were red, her cheeks blotchy, and dried tears on her cheeks.

“Just to sit here and be your friend,” you took another sip. You felt her eyes on you soon it became too much and you looked at her. “Do you want to talk about what happened?”

“I do not know,” you nodded.

“Well, when you do know I’m here,” you continued to sit in silence, passing the bottle back and forth until it was empty and you opened the next one. The alcohol was making you feel warm like you were surrounded by a big hug. Yelena rubbed her eyes, suppressing a yawn. “Come on,” you stood up, wobbling slightly. You didn’t know if it was from the alcohol or your legs being asleep. You weren’t drunk, a little tipsy at best. “You should get some sleep.” The blonde groaned and you held out your hand. She sighed, took it, and grabbed the fuller bottle before standing up. She stumbled more than you did. Was she drinking before she came back to the apartment? You were a few inches taller than her and you caught the blonde when she stumbled forward. Her head fell into the crock of your neck. Her warm breath caused goosebumps to form on your skin.

“You smell good,” she mumbled. “Like euc-euc eucalyptus,” she stumbled over the word a few times which caused her to giggle. You rolled your eyes.

“Come on, let’s get you to bed. You walked in front of Yelena as you led her down the fire escape. Your hand lingered on her hip now and again to steady her. When you opened the window, the apartment was quiet. You weren’t sure if Soyna went to bed or went out. Yelena was eyeing the couch that had been her bed for the past few nights. “Do you want to sleep in my bed tonight?” You asked as if you could read her mind. She looked at you, her green eyes wide.

“Can I?” She whispered. It was so rare to hear such vulnerability in her voice.

“Of course, you can,” you took the bottle from her and put it back in the fridge, making a mental note to buy Soyna two new bottles. You grabbed Yelena’s hand and brought her to your room. The first time she was in her was when she dropped you off. You’ve changed it since then, added posters of bands you liked and pictures you’ve taken around the city. She sat on the edge and looked around your room. “Do you want to change?”

“Clothes are out there,” she pointed to the door. “Don’t wanna move,” you giggled. “What’s so funny?” She asked as you walked to your closet.

“Your just cute,” you saw a blush rise to her cheeks. “I have stuff you can use,” you grabbed her a long sleeve shirt and an extra pair of sleep shorts. You handed them to the blonde but knelt on the floor to take off her boots. She didn’t fight you but watched you with a curious expression. “Do you need help changing?” Yelena shook her head. “Okay, I’ll be right back.” You left your room with her boats in hand to give her some privacy. You filled two glasses with water before returning to your room. Yelena was changed and resting her back on your headboard. You placed both glasses of water on your nightstand. “Did you get hurt tonight?” She hesitated but shrugged. “Do you want me to look at it?”

“No,” she simply said. You turned on the light you had on your nightstand and turned off the overhead light before climbing into bed. She copied you, getting under the covers, and lay down to face you. Tears swelled in her eyes.

“Yelena,” you whispered. “Are you okay?” She shook her head, a sob escaping her lips. You didn’t think and brought the emotionally distraught Black Widow into your arms. She tensed up at the sudden contact but you felt her hands grip onto your shirt like a lifeline. “Sh, you’re okay,” you whispered, undoing the braid in her hair and running your fingers through her blonde locks. “Your safe. Your safe.” You kept repeating it until her cries turned into hiccups and her breathing evened out. She was fast asleep in your arms. You wondered if she ever allowed herself this peace, this safety net to fall back on. Yelena always seemed so strong, barely showing any emotion. It had to be exhausting. You allowed yourself a few minutes of soothing her before falling asleep.

*

It took a few moments for Yelena to recognize where she was, alone, in a room she had only seen in passing but never dared to go in. Your room. It always seemed welcoming, warm, and inviting. Yelena groaned, pushing her hands to her temples. Her head was pounding. She wasn’t sure if it was from all the alcohol she drank or the crying. She couldn’t remember the last time she cried, especially in front of someone. It was embarrassing and threatened the way she presented herself. But last night was the best night’s sleep she’s had in a long time. Yelena saw the glass of water and medicine you left out for her. There was a part of Yelena that was curious about where you ran off to but the much louder part was dreading to face you. With a sigh, she finished the water and ventured into the apartment. You were in the kitchen, mixing something into a metal bowl. “Where is Soyna?” Yelena asked. You jumped slightly.

“She ran to the store so I’m in charge of breakfast,” you smiled. “I’m making pancakes.”

“Do you need help?” Yelena offered. She wasn’t well versed in the kitchen, surviving mostly on take-out or easy microwave dinners.

“Can you make coffee?” That was something she could do and she was grateful to do something. You turned up the music you were listening to and the kitchen was no longer quiet. When the coffee started, Yelena couldn’t help but watch you move around the kitchen. You were so different than the other Widows she’s saved from Dreykov’s claws. You were soft, caring, and like Melina said all those years ago to her and Natasha you kept your heart. Her heart was tainted, blackened with grief and a thirst for revenge. But she felt empty, lost, and without a purpose. “Your thinking too hard,” your voice pulled her out of her thoughts. “Sit. The food is done.” Yelena did what she was told and sat down. You placed a plate in front of her with syrup and coffee from the pot. Why were you doing this? Yelena wasn’t deserving of your kindness. “Yelena, stop thinking and just eat.” You smiled. Your smile made her stomach flip.

“Thank you,” she took a bite of the food. “It’s really good.”

“I’m glad you like it,” you both ate in silence, allowing the music to fill it. But her mind started to wander and it went back to your room. Yelena had a room at Melina’s farm, she rarely used it as she slept in hotels or apartments of the Widows she’s helped. The room wasn’t decorated, and she didn’t have posters or pictures to hand up. The only picture she had was a ripped photo strip of her and Natasha.

“Yelena,” she looked at you. “Are you okay?” She forced a smile.

“I’m okay, malen’kaya zvezda (little star), no need to worry.” She wasn’t expecting you to frown.

“Your not okay,” you said. Your blunt comment surprised her. “And that’s okay. We can’t always be strong. We have to break now and again.” Yelena chuckled, shaking her head.

“Tell me, how did you keep your heart?” She asked. You didn’t mask the confusion on your face. “Your heart is good. They didn’t taint it.” Your frown deepened.

“Do you not think your heart is good?” Yelena couldn’t find an answer. How could she tell you she was hired to kill an Avenger and she believed the lie that he killed her sister? “I think your heart is good,” you continued. “You wouldn’t do what you do if your heart wasn’t good.” Yelena laughed bitterly, looking out towards the window. She wondered what Clint and Kate were doing right now. Were they celebrating Christmas?

“Do you ever wonder why we were put through the Red Room?” She asked. “Besides following Dreykov’s orders and taking down countries and starting wars. But what about now? The Red Room is gone and we are left with these kills,” she sighed, running her hands through her hair. “What was I made for? I used to know but I’m not sure now.” Yelena looked at you. You were watching her intensely, it made her feel small and foolish under your graze for opening up like this. But she couldn’t stop.

“Sometimes I don’t feel real,” she continued. “I’m just something someone paid for. I don’t know how to feel,” Quietly, you rested your hand on top of hers. Yelena was surprised she didn’t pull away.

“What was your mission?” You asked. Yelena stared at your connected hands.

“Someone put a hit on Clint Barton,” she didn’t need to loop up for you know you knew the name. “Valentina gave me the job. She said,” Yelena sighed, closing her eyes. Her throat began to burn as she felt her emotions start to overpower her. “She said he had a hand in my sister’s death.”

“Did he?” You whispered. Yelena shook her head.

“No. It’s why I didn’t kill him,” you didn’t say anything instead you ran your fingers across her hand. It was soothing. “I wonder,” Yelena continued. “If Valentina is like Dreykov. I’m blindly following orders without thinking for myself.” It was your turn to sigh and Yelena glanced up at you. You were deep in thought, staring at the now empty plate.

“You and I and every other Widow were not given a fair or easy life,” Yelena counted herself lucky for the 3 years in Ohio. She was given a family, even though it was for a mission. It was more than some of the other girls had. “We were born to be used, and abused, and controlled but I know that isn’t the end of our story.”

“What is the end?” Yelena asked. You finally began to smile.

“I don’t know but we are free, Yelena. We write our own story. No man or woman can take that from us,” you squeezed her hand. “You were made to be anything you want.” Yelena scuffed, shaking her head. You made it sound so easy.

“I don’t know what I want,” there was one thing she wanted more than anything in the world. She wanted more time with her sister. It was so unfair how little time they had together. You removed your hand as you started cleaning up the breakfast. Yelena hated to admit how much she missed it.

“Well, I would stop working with Valentina,” you loaded the dishwasher. “Go on a vacation. Swim in the ocean. Eat your weight in ice cream,” Yelena chuckled. Once you were happy with how the kitchen, you leaned back on the counter. “That’s the beautiful and scary thing about being free there is no limit to what we can do,” Yelena smiled, a real when. She wasn’t sure how long it had been since she smiled.

“You still didn’t answer my question,” she said. “How did you keep your heart?” You shrugged.

“They tried to break it,” you told her. Your smile was no longer happy. “But I had to believe the horror we were subjected to wasn’t our end. It gave me hope,” this time Yelena grabbed your hand and interlocked her fingers with yours.

“Will you join me?” She asked. “On my self-discovery journey.”

“Yeah, of course,” you said. “I’d follow you anywhere you go.” Yelena felt a warm feeling grow in her chest. She couldn’t blame the alcohol or her grief. You were to blame for this giddy feeling that she had about the future. For once, Yelena wasn’t afraid and she hoped to make her sister proud.

_

Might return to this little AU in the future. May add some angst in Part 2. We'll see what happens and how I'm feeling lol

[seaside-writings]

Well, well, well! Hello. all you lovely people! It's been a hot minute since I did one of these lol.

As you can all probably tell, I've been dragged kicking and screaming back into Gravity Falls by "The Book of Bill." Because of this, I wanted to make a prompt list from all of my favorite lines of darker dialogue from the book.

Now I know this book is filled with dark dialogue from front to back, but these are the ones that stood out the most to me, and I know they stood out to others as well.

I hope you all enjoy this list, and if you use any of these prompts, please credit/tag me so I can come check out what you’ve created!

I hope you all stay blessed and safe throughout your day.

Lots of Love & Wishes: Celia 💙△💛👁️‍🗨️🖤

P.s. I did add some lines from the Axolotl’s poem I just felt like they fit well in this mess.

"Until there was no one left but me, covered in blood, alone in the universe,"

"Turn back while you still can, or live forever with the regret,"

"It infects other books!"

"Any regrets about causing the apocalypse?"

"Blame the arson for the fire."

"It's not with it. Trust me. You have to trust me,"

"Love is a trick and worst of all it's a trick you play on yourself,"

"Even his lies are lies,"

"I don't want to die alone,"

"I'm broken wanna fix me?"

"Once you kill with one of these, it becomes a "serious straw,"

"This book has no codes,"

"They don't even consider for a single moment the sheer improbability that they got to exist in the ONE timeline where they kept all of their bodily organs,"

"Maybe one day in the future all their good luck will finally run out,"

"I've peered into the souls of the madmen, but this was the first time I'd been in a mind that was collapsing like a neutron star,"

"Your world is controlled by dark invisible forces that need to operate in the shadows to maintain their power,"

"Some desperate part of him seemed to be trying to heal himself, hoping to weld his memories back together like one of his robots,"

"For the first time, I felt a kind of pain that wasn't hilarious,"

"Nightmares about trying to wash blood off her hands that never comes out,"

"Recurring nightmares about overhearing a fight between his parents he wasn't supposed to hear. Why do you think they were in such a rush to get the kids out the door for the Summer?"

"A single spark from the memory inferno hit me, and a hole sizzled straight through me like a laser through butter,"

"And if I ran into any symbols, I'd be ready,"

"Their screams getting louder and louder."

"Listen not to his lies!"

"And he tended to rip out journal pages that had anything to do with his issues with others… especially me,"

"Is my strange way of seeing the universe a gift or a curse?"

"Is loneliness just the cost of greatness? And if it is… how long am I fated to endure?"

"On your own, you're a bunch of sepia-tinted nobodies destined for the dumpster of history,"

"Although the day had begun with us as strangers, it ended with us as brothers, bonded by vengeance and a newfound hatred,"

"Someone had reversed the Shaman's spell and had summoned me back! Who would it be?! A genius? An idiot? Oh. Oh my goodness me. Yes. It was both,"

"Can you collect them all before the end-times come?"

"How about that; you've got an inferior clone! Why didn't you just eat him in the womb? Think of how powerful you'd be!"

"Assemble all seven collectibles to open the seal,"

"The perfect weight to kill a man,"

"Says he's happy, he's a liar,"

"I grow maddened."

"A different form, a different time."

"He looked distant, more distant than I'd ever seen him before,"

"By a monster."

"He laughed joylessly,"

"It would eat you alive."

"Trust no one,"

"As the chanting grew louder, the forest was suddenly engulfed in flames, screaming laughter echoing, and then- I awake on the floor, gasping for breath,"

"I could see in the third dimension,"

"But being special comes with a price,"

"I've shut down the portal! Damn it all!"

"My mind reels from horror and humiliation! How could I have been so foolish!?"

"Saw his own dimension burn, misses home, and can’t return."

"I was wrong about everything!"

"Break my bones if you must, but you cannot break my will!"

"No, I won't give him the satisfaction! Instead of destroying my work, I'll destroy him instead!"

"That's because I've been knock-knocking your skull against the wall!"

"Has he done this before?? How far would he go?"

"I keep coughing up spiders,"

"My heart was in my throat until I heard the dial tone… the pay phone was out of order. The message hadn't gotten through,"

"You're my property. Don't forget it,"

"You gave me your blood, You let me into your mind!"

"From the graves around me arose a horde of cackling cadavers eyes aglow,"

"Why are you doing this?! Why won't you just leave me alone?"

"Without me, you'll always feel unseen, surrounded by dolts who don't recognize your true potential,"

"You've always felt alone in a crowd, haven't you? Who else will give you this feeling again?"

"Even if you got rid of me, you'd miss me. Admit it, you'd miss me,"

"The hillbilly abandoned you, your father won't want you returning without millions, you have no friends, and if you died out here in the snow. who would even miss you?"

"I have no one else,"

“I awoke from the hallucination, heart pounding, to find myself back in my living room, clock ticking, record skipping- and began to weep,”

"What if… he mocks me? What if he sees that I abandoned our family to become a recluse on the brink of madness?"

"Where did you all go? WHERE DID-"

"Shame is a powerful emotion. But if grows even more in the dark,"

"I thought I was protecting my family, but I was really protecting myself… from humiliation,"

"No, they mean nothing to you!"

"Because no matter what the idiot counselors in this smiling cage say, I don't need anyone, I never have, and I don't miss any of them!"

"I'm fine,"

"This morning I awoke to find my knuckles bloody and sore. He must have been punching and scraping the steel door like a caged animal all night in a frenzy to get in,"

“Someday… someone… will let… me… out,”