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warlocksoup · 3 days ago

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LOOPED: MIYA ATSUMU

she's stuck in a loop: texting him late on a friday night, letting him into her bed, clinging to him, silently begging for him to stay, only for him to leave again.

masterlist

tags/warnings: friends with benefits, implied love triangle, angst, hooking up, unhappy ending, kinda softcore smut but no actual smut, hardly proofread, mdni

word count: 2.2k

an: thinking abt starting a gen taglist for works like this since im planning on pivoting away from writing a bunch of series and focusing more on things like this. idk. let me know what you think if you want i can't make you. also do i think this is my best writing? no but writing has been so hard lately im proud of myself for getting this out

Atsumu likes to hold her after they fuck.

His bare leg is hooked over her hip, and his arm is thrown over her shoulder, pulling her into his chest. It’s hot under her sheets, and Astumu’s skin is coated in a thin layer of sweat. It’s humid and unbearable, but she bears it, holding onto him by his waist, because it’s the only time he’s like this with her.

“Thank you,” he says, and he tucks her head under his chin. His eyes are closed, and he lets out a long, deep breath. “I needed that.”

He thanks her like she did him a favor. Her arms go a bit tighter around his waist, and she presses her ear against his chest, listening to his heartbeat. “Yeah,” she mumbles, her cheek pressed flat against his skin. “Anytime.”

Atsumu runs a hand over the back of her head, smoothing down her hair. His fingers continue, dragging slowly down the center of her spine. “Do you mind if I stay for a little while?” he asks, voice dropping to a raspy whisper that makes her feel so desperate that shame boils just under his touch.

Her eyes close. “No,” she says, her lips brushing against his bare chest as she speaks. “You can stay for as long as you want.”

It’s like this every week. She always expects it to be different, and it never is. Every week, when it feels like it’s been dark for too long and she’s alone and can’t sleep, she texts him after she promised herself she wouldn’t. Sometimes he responds and says he’ll be right over, sometimes he replies and says he can’t. Sometimes he shows up without saying anything at all.

It’s been like this for a while. Long enough for her to feel embarrassed that she’s letting him drag her along like this.

He hums, and she can feel vibrations throughout his chest. “You’re so soft,” he tells her, “it makes it hard to leave.”

Atsumu will leave, though. Before the morning comes, he’ll be out the door without saying a word to her. It doesn’t seem very difficult, when he does go. He always peels her off of him like she’s some piece of dirty laundry and slinks out of the room when he thinks she’s fallen asleep.

His breathing steadies like he’s slipping into sleep. She tilts her chin forward, and places a soft kiss on the center of his chest. She won’t be able to sleep. She’s too wired, it’s too hot, and her neck lays uncomfortably on top of the pillow. When the morning comes she’s going to be sore and tired, and it will be a strain to get anything done.

Her eyes close, and she’s sure that Atsumu’s knocked out when she whispers, “You don’t have to leave, y’know.”

He doesn’t say anything. She wasn’t expecting him to. She keeps her eyes closed, and thinks of his warmth, trying her best to avoid thoughts of it disappearing when the morning comes.

✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚

Atsumu stands at the edge of her bed and pulls on a pair of sweatpants. “I’m sorry to leave so soon,” he tells her, thumbs tucked under the waistband as they settle at the bottom of his hips. “I have to be at the gym so goddamn early tomorrow.”

Her legs are crossed underneath the blanket and she sits upright, holding the pillow he usually sleeps on against her lap. “”S okay,” she tells him, watching as he grabs his hoodie off of the floor and throws it on over his head. “I’m not offended or anything.”

“Honestly, I probably shouldn’t have come over tonight,” he confesses, and now she’s starting to feel a bit of a sting. “I just really needed to see you tonight.”

She doesn’t know how to feel about this. She shuffles a bit, an indiscernible feeling settling uncomfortably over her skin. Atsumu doesn’t say things like that. She doesn’t know how to react. “Is something wrong?”

Atsumu freezes, placing his hands in the pocket of his sweatshirt. His expression is screwed up, knotted. Something is wrong. She leans forward, like she’s expecting him to whisper it in her ear, like he’s about to profess something profound and close to his chest. But Atsumu just shakes his head, “Nah, it’s nothing,” he says. He pats the pockets of his sweatpants. “Have you seen my phone?”

She’s disappointed, but she doesn’t know why. She leans back and reaches towards her nightstand, yanking her phone off the charger and dialing Atsumu’s number. She knows it by heart, and hopes that he doesn’t notice. It buzzes from under her sheets.

He leaves half past midnight, forty minutes after he got there. She can’t sleep once he’s gone. She stays up, scrolling mindlessly through her phone, trying to wear down her mind, make it too tired to keep thinking of him.

Sakusa texts her. Five minutes past one. “Was Atsumu at your place?”

She ignores it.

✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚

Atsumu lies on his side, and draws patterns on her bare stomach with the tip of his finger. She doesn’t say anything, out of fear of making him stop. She watches him instead, watching his face as he stares down at her midriff. He has this slight smile on his face, and it makes her feel pleasantly uneasy.

“I like your stomach,” he tells her. “I think it’s my favorite part of you.”

The smile that grows on her face must give her away. She’s grateful for how occupied he is with her skin. “You have a favorite part of me?”

“Yeah, I mean, I like all of you,” Atsumu tells her. “But I do have favorites. Your stomach, your nose, your thighs, fuck, just so much of you,” he sighs, as if overwhelmed. “I mean, a man can only take so much.”

She doesn’t think it’s fair, that she’s expected not to fall in love with him when he says things like that. So unabashedly, completely unprompted. And there is this small part of her that kind of resents him, for things like this, saying all of that when he’s going to leave her before the morning comes. But she likes it more than she could ever hate it. So she smiles, and she says, “I don’t think I could pick my favorite part of you,” and means it more than she should.

Atsumu’s hand stops, and he looks up at her. He grins, and it makes her stomach flip.

✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚

It’s fifteen minutes to midnight, and she’s pacing in her bedroom, trying not to look at her phone. She texted him twenty minutes ago, and she thinks if she keeps herself from looking at her phone, it’ll make him respond quicker. She can’t back her logic, but she’s well past the point of reason.

He hadn’t talked to her all week. Which, she tries to tell herself, isn’t too weird. He’s busy. He’s a professional athlete. He has better things to do than entertain her and her whims, and what is she to him, really, besides a person to sleep with? They weren’t that close when they started hooking up, and it’s not like the fucking as brought them closer together.

But still, her stomach knots up with nerves. She feels like something’s wrong. Maybe she gave him too much of herself. Maybe he doesn’t want as much of her as she’s willing to give.

Her phone vibrates against her nightstand, and she nearly breaks a toe rushing to answer it. On her home screen is a notification from him.

Can’t make it tonight. Sorry.

✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚

She always tries to give Atsumu what he wants. He likes it when she begs, so she begs. She gets down on her knees and begs to please him. He likes the feeling of her on top of him, thighs squeezing on either side of his hips, so she climbs on top of him, not stopping when her thighs start to burn. He likes it wet, so it’s wet. His hair tugged, his neck nibbled on, his back scratched. Whatever he likes, she gives it to him.

And he keeps making these small little grunts of pleasure and his eyes are fluttering, but Atsumu feels far away. Unimpressed with the way her body moves against his. His hands lay lazily on her hips, not gripping tightly on her flesh. He doesn’t whisper praise in her ear. He doesn’t bite down on his lip and tell her yes, he likes it like that, keep doing that. He’s quiet, withdrawn.

She keeps trying to give him more, and more, desperation clawing on the inside of her chest. But Atsumu gives her nothing. He takes what she offers silently, and it starts to feel like he’s keeping his eyes closed to avoid looking at her.

After, he doesn’t hold her. Atsumu lies on his back with his hands tucked under his head, staring at her ceiling. He doesn’t say anything.

Her body feels like it’s burning. She feels humiliated. The silence is bad but she thinks talking might be worse. She doesn’t want him to leave but she doesn’t want him to stay if it’s going to be more of this. The air is so thick she thinks she might choke on it.

Atsumu turns his head to look at her. “Have you talked to Omi recently?”

The question shocks her so badly she turns her head to him, face scrunched up in confusion. “What?”

He shrugs. “He hasn’t been talking to me lately. I was just wondering if he said anything to you.”

Her head straightens out and she looks back up at the ceiling. “He texted me the other week and asked if you were here. I didn’t know if I should tell him or not, and it didn’t really seem like any of his business, so I just didn’t respond.”

Atsumu hums. “I think he’s jealous of you.”

“Do you want him to be?” she asks at once, and then regrets it.

Atsumu doesn’t say anything to this. He gets quiet, and she has to bite down on her lip to keep herself from saying something else stupid. Somehow, the air gets heavier.

“I’m sorry,” she says after a minute of silence.

“It’s okay,” Atsumu says, and he doesn’t mean it. He leaves a minute later, and tells her it’s because he has an early practice, but she’s not stupid.

✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚

Atsumu presses her against her bedroom wall, and when she closes her eyes, all she can see is him and Sakusa, arm’s slung around each other’s shoulders in a post-victory celebration earlier that day. And the way Atsumu looked at him makes her feel rotten. It hurts to remember, and Atsumu pounding into her does little to distract from it.

She’s the loser in this war, she thinks, arms around his shoulders and leg hooked over his hip, too disconnected from her body to feel anything. It doesn’t matter how many times Atsumu has crawled back into her bed and held her against his chest. It doesn’t matter how in love with him she is. It’s always Sakusa. It’ll always be Sakusa.

He holds her tightly after, their legs tangled together and his cheek resting on the top of her head. His phone’s in his pocket and it keeps buzzing. Atumu ignores it, and she can’t stop herself from thinking that it’s him.

She swallows. Her throat feels dry. “Someone keeps texting you,” she says, because she wants him to acknowledge it.

Atsumu inhales deeply. “Ignore it,” he says, “just lie with me.”

She closes her eyes, and does as she’s told.

✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚

Can I come over tonight?

He texted her first. He doesn’t usually, but he did. The notification popped up over a video the MSBY Black Jackals post-match. Meian’s giving a courtside interview, but just behind him, she can see Atsumu and Sakusa, shoulders squared and tensed, keeping a strict distance from each other as they exit the court. She can feel the chill through the screen of her phone.

She doesn’t know what it is that holds the both of them back from each other. Maybe it’s her. Maybe Sakusa doesn’t realize that Atsumu would drop her immediately if Sakusa ever asked him to.

She’s always known that he would, though. Whatever she has to offer doesn’t seem to compare to Sakusa. She’s just a temporary fix, really. Just something to hold Atsumu over until Sakusa realizes this.

She taps on the notification, and her conversation with Atsumu pops up. For a second, she scrolls through it. Minimal talking, mostly texts from her, with late responses from him. She can see it there, how much Atsumu doesn’t care about her. It doesn’t matter if he asks to come over or tells her he loves her stomach or how hard it is for him to leave. He just doesn’t care about her. Not the way she cares about him.

Her thumbs hover over the keyboard for a moment, paused in contemplation, before she types out a quick, yeah, sure, and hits send without thinking anymore about it.

If Sakusa hasn’t figured it out yet, then she’s not about to help him. She’ll just keep giving and giving, until there’s nothing left to give.

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu fic #haikyuu x yn #haikyuu x you #hq x reader #haikyuu angst #haikyuu x reader angst #haikyuu x y/n #hq x y/n #hq x you #atsumu x reader #atsumu x you #atsumu x y/n #miya atsumu x reader #miya atsumu x you #miya atsumu x y/n

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boybandbaby · 3 days ago

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Team Work (Evan Buckley x SingleMom!Reader)

word count: 1444

warnings/tags: Buck with a child 🥹, as always please lmk if I missed anything

note: I tried to do some light research about Girl Scouts I’m sorry for any inaccuracies I never got to be a GS

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

Your daughter Evie had just gotten back from her Girl Scout meeting, the one where she gets all her materials to start selling cookies.

Last year, she hadn’t sold too many cookies as it was only her first year. This year, the prize for selling the most cookies was a ticket to Universal Studios.

You had never taken her before despite living in LA. As you and Buck ate dinner, you watched on as she excitedly ignored her food to discuss her plans to sell as many cookies as she can.

“And- and if I win I can go to Universal Studios and see Gru and the minions!” She screeched.

“How about you eat dinner first and then we can talk about when to start selling?” You suggest.

“Okay but I want Buck to help me.” She huffs. You roll your eyes while Buck grins at you.

She wanted Buck’s help and boy did he show up and show out.

“How many boxes for you Chim?” Buck holds a clip board with an order sheet.

“Oh no, clipboard Buck is back.” Hen nudges Eddie.

Buck ignores the comment, writing down 3 boxes of thin mints and 3 caramel delites. 6 boxes on top of what he already forced Maddie to buy.

“And for the Diazes?” Buck turns to Eddie.

“Give me a box of thin mints and a box of s’mores.” Eddie states.

“Okay, so what I heard was 5 boxes of thin mints and 5 boxes of s’mores.” Buck writes down. He looks up to see Eddie looking at him confused. “Give some to your Tia and Abuela.” He shrugs.

“Hen! Hen..” He smiles, opening his arms for a hug. “How many for the Wilson’s? You’ve got a family of 4, I’m thinking 3 boxes each?”

“Are you nuts?” She looks at him then to Chim and Hen.

“No, I’m determined. I’ve gotta help Evie sell these, she’s asked me to be her business partner and I’m taking it very seriously.”

Hen sighs, “fine, give me 2 lemonades, 2 thin mints, 2 trefoils, and 1- don’t look at me like that. 1 tagalong.”

Buck shakes his head before writing her order down. “Thank you for doing business.” He smiles before heading up to the loft to harass some of the other firefighters.

“He should try asking all his exes and ex hookups, he’d sell out in no time.” Hen says to Chimney.

“I heard that!” Buck shouts back, voice drifting away.

The next shift, Ravi is his next victim. Buck gets him in the locker room but is surprised when Ravi buys 3 boxes of every kind.

“I admire Girl Scouts and what they are doing to shape the youth of America. I’ll gladly support Evie.” Ravi smiles and earns a high five from Buck.

“I knew you were my favorite for a reason.”

“I thought I was your favorite?” Chim scoffs, offended.

“Yeah, after me.” Eddie grins.

“My favorite is whoever buys the most boxes.” Buck winks and exits the locker room.

The next day when he has a day off and Evie doesn’t have school, he spends the day with her in front of a grocery store. He’s her personal assistant, bagging the boxes and handing them to the customers as she practices how to count money and make change.

You park in front of the store with two bags of lunch for Buck and Evie, and to give Buck a bit of a break. You can’t help but laugh as Buck has purchased a matching brown vest and beret to look just like a scout himself.

“Hi babe,” you kiss Evie’s cheek and then Buck’s. “Working hard?”

“Always, we’ve already sold 92 boxes today. We’re almost running out. Did you bring the two boxes I left by the door?”

“Yes, they’re in my trunk. Sit, eat, take a break.” You urge. “I’ll get them.”

“No, that’s okay. I’ll grab ‘em.” He smiles and puts his hand out for keys. You hand him your keys and watch as he practically skips to grab the last two boxes.

“Mommy, Buck is helping me sell so many cookies!” She squeals. “He’s so cool.”

You laugh and watch Buck balance the box on top of the other. “Oh, Bobby wants you to stop by his after you’re done here. Says Athena and Harry wants some more of the toffee ones.”

“I’ll save them a few boxes then.” He sets the boxes down behind the table.

“You look really cute in your getup.” You snicker.

“Yeah? You like?” He grins.

“Mommy, don’t be gross.” Evie remarks causing Buck to laugh.

“I’m not being gross, he looks so handsome.” You throw your hands up.

She gags as a few more customers come up to the table.

Later that night, you drive the two of them to Bobby and Athena’s. You’d already sent the team a picture of Buck in his vest and beret and Bobby said he wouldn’t buy any more cookies unless he came wearing them. You stand behind as Buck and Evie knock on the door. Bobby and Athena open up with their cameras out.

“Well, look at you!” Athena teases.

“Hey, I’ll do what I have to, to help my girl get the big prize.” Buck nudges Evie’s side causing her to stumble over.

Your heart swells when he says that. Buck has never made a big deal out of you having a daughter. He welcomed her with open arms when you’d told him on your third date that you had a daughter.

Buck brings her out of her shell and makes her life better. She’s told you so countless times. Even though he’s not her father, he’s stepped up to take on some of the role.

Watching Buck with your little girl makes you love him even more.

As the cookie season comes to a close and it’s announced that your daughter has won second place, Buck has to comfort her and apologize for not selling more.

You and Buck had already had a discussion that you didn’t want to get her hopes up in case this exact situation happened. You both wrestled with the idea that if she doesn’t win, you’d take her to Universal Studios anyways for her hard work but would let her know sometimes these things happen and you can’t get discouraged.

“Listen, we did the best we could. That’s all that counts okay?” Buck kneels down to hug her, rubbing her back. “We were the best team and I loved hanging out with you.”

She nods and steps back, wiping her cheeks. “I had fun with you.”

“Yeah? Do you wanna do something else fun with me and mom?”

“Like what?” She sniffles.

“Well, because you worked so hard and we’re so proud of you, we’ll still take you to Universal Studios.” You caress her cheek.

“Really?” She giggles, jumping up and down. She then starts crying again.

You kneel down to hug her and she cries into your shoulder. “Don’t cry, babe. We’re gonna have so much fun! Buck can be your ride buddy.”

“Yeah, I’ll ride all the rides as long as you hold my hand when I get scared.”

“You’re too old to get scared!” Evie laughs and pokes Buck’s cheek.

“I’m not old!” Buck gasps, tickling her tummy. “Say it!”

“No!” She tries to get away from him. “Mommy, help me!”

“No, Buck’s your best friend now you gotta deal with him.” You poke her belly and stand up. “Did you give him his gift for helping you?”

“Oh!” She runs to her bag. Buck stands up.

“You got me something?” She nods before holding her hand out. Buck takes the brown and gold pin from her.

“It’s the Brownie Entrepreneur family pin! Because you helped me!”

“But it’s yours.” Buck says softly, you can hear it in his voice that he’s getting emotional.

“I have so many, this one’s for you.” She shrugs, wrapping her arms around his legs. “You can put it on your vest.”

“Will you help me?”

“Yes!” She cheers before running to grab his vest from the back of the couch.

Buck slips the vest on and take the safety back off the pin, “here, put it on for me.”

He kneels down as she carefully puts the pin on his vest. “Now you look like me!”

“So if I look like you, that means you’re old too!” He jokes.

You shake your head and make your way to the kitchen to start on some lunch. You can hear Buck blowing raspberries into her cheek and her loud screams of joy as she calls him an “old man.”

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

#911 abc #911 x you #evan buckley x reader #911 x reader #evan buckley x y/n #evan buckley x you #evan buckley

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adieutristana · 2 days ago

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ribbons and lace; jinx x fem!reader

first smut fic let's go... part 2 to pins and needles since it got a positive reception. if this sucks don't kill me

since writing this i will have a new section in my rules post specifically for nsfw. feel free to send in any nsfw requests, but please read through before doing so!

characters included; jinx

summary; jinx getting worked up after volunteering to be a dress form for her girlfriend. her girlfriend notices, and helps her.

tags/warnings; seamstress!reader, dom!reader, sub!jinx, foreplay, semi-public, fingering, dirty talk, sliiiiight degredation, squirting, crying, explicit consent, beginning of aftercare

men and minors dni.

she's flushed, and she swears she's okay, but you know better than that. you know that jinx has always been the last person to ask for and especially accept help. but what could have her in such a state? flushed, breathless, sweaty, even. you step forward to jinx's chair, brushing your lips against her forehead in an effort to gauge her temperature. that's the only other explanation you can think of at this moment.

another shiver runs down jinx's spine. yet, she feels completely normal. the way your girlfriend looks, you'd swear that she'd be burning up.

"come on, baby. talk to me. something's wrong."

you whisper, pulling your lips from jinx's forehead. the girl can't muster up a response to you, rather she won't. your face is mere centimeters from jinx's, close enough that you can feel her hot breath against your skin. her breathing is labored and her eyes have this look in them that you've seen before- several times.

oh. that's what this is about.

you let out a huff, before striding over to the clear door of your studio. flipping the sign so that it reads 'CLOSED,' and closing the dark curtains usually reserved for off-hours.

you walk back over to jinx, still sat ever so unceremoniously in one of your chairs. probably soaking the cushion as you observe her. you cross your arms over your chest, cocking your head to the side in a faux-annoyed manner.

"i have a deadline, jinx. i can't be doing things like this," you mutter, tutting as you slowly shake your head. her rosy eyes are blown wide, looking at you as if you're her lifeline. her one and only sanctuary, the only thing that can give her exactly what she needs.

"i know, i'm sorry- i just.." she breathes out, raspy voice barely above a whisper. "i need you, toots. please."

you let out a heavy sigh, bringing your forefinger and thumb to jinx's chin. you simply look for a moment, observing the sheen of jinx's skin, the slight furrow of dark brows, the way her plump lips press into a pout. you haven't done a damn thing, yet she's already this worked up.

"you're really this helpless?"

you mutter, though it's clear you're not looking for an answer. you claim your girlfriends lips in a hungry kiss, soft lips moving against her own. your tongue swipes along her bottom lip as a silent plea for entrance, and she immediately grants it to you. one hand comes to tangle in your hair, a desperate effort to press you closer to her as if your tongue isn't already inside her mouth. you'd laugh if you weren't so busy right now.

you swallow up soft whimpers, jinx's breathing labored and her sharp fingernails now digging into your scalp. you continue to explore her mouth with your tongue as both of your hands begin to run along jinx's bare, slim waist. you pull away with a gasp as one of your hands finds the hemline of jinx's leather top, your middle finger hooking underneath.

"you're sure this is what you want?"

you ask, your eyes boring into the girl's. she frantically nods, almost as if this is the most important question she's been asked in her life. maybe in this moment, it feels like that for her.

"yes, yes- i need it. please, please-"

she's cut off by the feeling of you quickly grabbing one of her perky tits beneath her top and squeezing, a sharp whine being drawn from the girl. ever so reactive, ever so sensitive. you run the pad of your thumb over her hardened nipple, your other hand working to quickly push up her shirt up above her tits. you almost swear that you can feel yourself salivate at the mere sight. this has always been one of your favorite features of your girlfriend.

"didn't take much to shut you up, huh?"

you murmur, still teasing the pert bud beneath your fingers. you're looming over her as if you're some malevolent presence, here to take your prey and do whatever you please with her. oh, how she wishes you would.

"mm, shut up," she manages to breathe out. "i'm just.. sensitive,"

"i know, baby."

you whisper, your free hand trailing back down her waist to make its way closer to your destination. you can feel her abs tensing beneath your touch as cold fingers run over her obliques, you can feel exactly where her hip bone juts out. goosebumps littered across the pale expanse of her stomach. pale blue clouds littered across her skin, each one its own separate masterpiece on the most beautiful canvas possible. it's a sight to behold- one you've seen times prior, yet one you know will never grow old.

"i've always loved your tits," you rumble, your hand coming back to her now-neglected breast. you pinch the erect nipple, rolling it between your fingers as jinx squeals and squirms.

"so small, so perky, so perfect, and just for me."

without another word, you drop to your knees in front of jinx's chair.

you're now eye-level with her knees. you'd been here just a few moments prior, pinning fabrics onto her and trying to get her to stop squirming so damn much. now it made sense, why she couldn't keep still. your hands braced on either knee, you gently coax them apart. jinx's chest is heaving, perky tits on full display as her breaths come in shorter and shorter. it's a good thing you pulled that curtain.

"dirty girl. i'm trying to do a job here," you chastise as your fingers fly to unfasten her belt, a quick and practiced movement. you pull it off of her, whilst your fingers hook into the waistband of her striped pants. "but you just couldn't wait. this client is gonna be pissed, you know. maybe you should go explain yourself to them. tell them why there was a hold-up."

the fabric is battered and torn from countless battles, cuts and holes strewn across the garment and the legs of her pants impossibly frayed. you'd offered more times than you could count to fix them, hell, even make new pants for her, but she'd always insisted on wearing these old things. said they had 'character.' you sigh, shaking your head as you pull the article from her ankles.

jinx is left nearly bare before you, save for a manipulated top and a pair of baby blue panties. your eyes dart beneath her thighs, directly towards the wet patch on her underwear. soaked through. good gods, she was insatiable. you let out a low chuckle while you moved up on your knees, bringing your dominant hand toward her pussy. pressing your middle finger down right over her clothed clit, eliciting a sharp cry from her.

"fuck!"

"come on. this wet already, and i haven't even touched you properly."

you tut, though you can't bring yourself to be truly angry. it's kind of endearing, how desperate she is. her body taut as each muscle coils with pure, unabashed need. fingers dancing along the edge of her panties, before swiftly pulling them down and off of her. you spread jinx's thighs just the slightest bit wider, then glance back up to jinx. her big eyes are still fixed on you, following your every move and whim. your fingernails drag along jinx's inner thigh. a tantalizing tease, remining jinx of what she wants, but she can't have. not yet, anyways.

"s-stop teasing," she whines, her voice low. you snicker lightly, before pressing your middle finger back over her needy clit. jinx's body nearly stutters with the sensation, the feeling of you rubbing slow, borderline torturous circles into her. her lips are already parted while she looks down at you, before you sink your middle finger into her.

"shiiiit," she breathes out, feeling the steady movement of your finger. slowly pumping in and out of her, stretching her ever so gently.

"you like that?" you whisper, adding your ring finger as well. there's a bit of resistance, though jinx is quickly able to accommodate to the new addition. lewd sounds of wet squelching fill your studio, jinx's increasingly loud moans bouncing off the walls like some perverted medley. your fingers begin to pound into jinx, drawing nearly pornographic noise from those beautiful parted lips.

"hnggh- oh! don't stop, right there-" she grunts, your fingers making contact with the spongy spot that always makes jinx see stars. you brace your free hand on her opposite thigh, grabbing both to hold her in place and ground her. a low laugh escapes you. nothing about this is amusing necessarily, but it's just too damn perfect.

"look at this pussy," you murmur, your voice a low husk. "swallowing me up. nice and wet f'me." watching your fingers disappear again and again into jinx's sopping hole, ever so eager. as if she was made to take you.

"ah, aaah- you- ngh!" the girl pauses, head falling backward. "you like it?"

"oh, i love it," you affirm, your fingers continuing their delirious assault on jinx. "i love this pussy so fuckin' much. you have no idea."

"mmph... show me, show me," she pleads, her voice a weak rasp. her tits are bouncing the slightest bit whilst you finger-fuck her, the pale skin of her neck exposed and her braids dragging on the ground beneath her. "show me how much you love it."

you don't need to be told twice. your thumb comes to press into jinx's throbbing clit, which forces a guttural moan from the depths of her chest. that shut her up. your fingers continue to pound in and out of jinx, going at break-neck speed. you might break your fingers for all you know, but you also can't be bothered to care at this point. jinx is taking everything you're giving her so well, her chest and face flushed pink as her breath comes to her in short pants. she's nearly shaking under your touch; exactly how you like her.

your fingers continue to curl inside her just right, your thumb playing with that pretty clit in the way you know drives jinx mad. she's starting to grind her hips down onto your hand, seeking any bit of extra friction that she can get. her abs and thigh muscles clench amidst the pleasure. maybe another time jinx would bite down on her bottom lip in an effort to stifle the noises, but not today. she's entirely unashamed.

"so damn loud, too." you remark, accentuated by another sharp thrust. "the whole of zaun is gonna hear you at this point. is that what you want, hm? want everyone to know i'm fucking their symbol?"

the words draw a high-pitched whine from jinx, though she doesn't seem to respond to them.

"hnng.." she grunts." i need- hmph,"

"you need...?" you urge, your voice barely audible over the wet sounds you're drawing from her cunt. you know what she needs, you can feel it in the way her gummy walls are clenching around your digits. the way her body is heaving, her chest in an interrupted rhythm of up, down, up down. she needs to cum is what she needs, but frankly, you want to draw this out a bit.

you know jinx's mind is growing fuzzy, that it's difficult for her to string together a coherent sentence, let alone say it right now. she'd gotten herself into this, really. getting so turned on by just a few innocent touches, when she had been the one to offer herself up as a dress form. her little whines and moans fill your ears, a rhythmic 'ah, ah, ah.'

and still, part of you can't help but take pity on her. head tossed back, blue bang partially sticking to her face while moans spill from her lips. she looks a damn mess, yet divine. curse jinx for being so beautiful, for being able to make you fold so easily.

"please," she cuts through. hot tears are beginning to well in her eyes, a testament to just how good you're making her feel. how desperately she needs this. "please, i need to-"

"shh," you interrupt, shifting on your knees to rise slightly. peppering light kisses on the expanse of jinx's neck. "cum for me, jinx."

jinx is teetering on the precipice of climax, so damn close. you continue your relentless rhythm, and it's as if a dam breaks. light pink liquid squirts onto your hand and forearm, a strangled cry of your name escaping jinx. she writhes in the chair, thrashing back and forth against your hand while her hips stutter, trying to ride out the high. her face falls forward, tears running down pale cheeks and dark mascara staining her under eyes.

she looks a damn wreck, but gods is she beautiful.

"shh, shh," you offer, sliding your soaked hand out of jinx's cunt. "i'm here."

taking to your feet, you gently scoop jinx into your arms and settle into her chair, situating jinx on your lap. her breathing is still shallow, coming to her in pants, but the lovestruck look in those half-lidded eyes is all of the reassurance that you need to prove your girlfriend is okay.

she almost immediately wraps her toned arms around your shoulders, pressing her cheek against your chest in an effort to anchor herself back to reality. your clean hand brushes her bang from her face, then brushes underneath an eye to wipe her tears as your lips brush against her forehead. a gentle reminder of your love, yet a stark contrast to how you were handling her just a moment ago.

"i'm sorry," she breathes out, voice weak. "i interrupted your work..."

you chuckle lowly, shaking your head. jinx isn't actually sorry, she never is about this kind of thing. maybe it's some effort to please you, but no matter.

"i don't mind. you were so good for me."

you whisper, before claiming her lips in a soft kiss. plump lips move against yours slow and steady.

"i love you."

"i love you too," you hum. "let's get you cleaned up, yeah?"

#jinx x reader #jinx smut #arcane x reader #reader insert #arcane x you #jinx x you #sapphic

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tinytalkingtina · 17 hours ago

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Who could not be happy?

Written for the February @steddiemicrofic prompt, using the word "rose" and 367 words

Rating G | Ao3 link

Tags: language of flowers, Eddie has a crush on Steve, love confessions, first kiss

See under the cut for some notes on flower language, and thank you steddiecameraroll-graphics for the lovely divider!

Eddie stared at the book clutched tightly in his hands. There was a rose carefully tucked away among its pages. The color had faded a bit, but a pink hue still delicately tinted the petals. And that wasn’t all. Fragments of other flowers were also dried and wrapped in protective layers of wax paper: camellia, columbine, gardenia. Under the last page, a green carnation peeked out.

Steve came back into the room juggling a few more empty boxes.

“This should be the final load, if we add anything else the Beemer won't make it to Chicago without tipping over. Hope you don't mind us driving up without the rearview mirror.”

Steve grinned, but Eddie didn’t respond. The grin faltered a little.

“You okay man? Not getting cold feet now.” Wordlessly, Eddie held out the book.

“Oh, thanks, this one needs to be packed flat.” A tiny smile crept over Steve's face. “You know how people used to decorate their crush's locker for Valentine's Day? My senior year there was this whole bouquet tucked in waiting for me. Dunno who put it there, Nance and I'd broken up months ago. They're nice though, right? I mean you never see green flowers. Wish I could've thanked them, whoever it was.”

A tiny spark of hope bloomed in Eddie's chest. Before he could swallow it back down, his brain blurted out:

“I had perfect attendance in Spanish that year.”

Steve's eyes squinted in confusion.

“Huh?”

“My second-go around at senior year, and I was still stuck in Hawkins, then freaking King Steve sits behind me in Spanish 3,” Eddie barreled on. “You never used to pay attention to anyone who wasn't in your inner circle, but in that class you'd mutter to yourself about how cool my doodles looked, and told folks to knock it off when they called me trailer trash. So I found a book on flower meanings and did something incredibly stupid.” He didn’t dare look at Steve as he finished his confession.

The kiss caught him off-guard.

“Guess I've got three years worth of dates to make up for. Prepare to be romanced off your feet Munson.”

That February, Eddie gave Steve red and yellow tulips.

Author's notes

-The fic's title comes from a quote by Victorian playwright Oscar Wilde: "With freedom, books, flowers, and the moon, who could not be happy?" The green carnation is associated with Oscar Wilde himself, and wearing a green carnation on ones lapel might have been a code for gay men at the time to identify one another. Wilde was famously convicted for homosexual acts in 1895. Let's say Eddie picked up a copy of "The Picture of Dorian Gray" and learned about the symbolism from a coded forward written for it.

-The meanings within the original bouquet were "happiness" (pink rose), "longing for you" (pink camellia), "foolishness/folly" (columbine), secret love (gardenia), and homosexuality (green carnation). Eddie was being very dramatic putting together the original bouquet for his forbidden love, and definitely dyed the carnation himself.

-Red and yellow tulips represent passion/declaration of love and sunshine in your smile respectively.

#steddie #steddiemicrofic #steddiemicroficfebruary #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steve harrington x eddie munson #tinawrites

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riddlerosehearts · 2 days ago

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okay but. in trey's dream, leona says he feels sorry for riddle because his two underlings are both dreaming of changing who the boss is. and then idia agrees and says that people like cater and trey are scary because they smile and hide their true feelings while secretly being dissatisfied with riddle and wishing someone else was the dorm leader. and i'm guessing, as i haven't ventured into the tags yet, that while i waited to be able to watch an english translation the rest of the fandom spent the last few days taking leona and idia's words at face value and hating on trey and having discourse over this!

but my first thought? was that those two couldn't be more wrong, and that cater and trey were subconsciously being so kind to riddle. seriously. they can't imagine the trauma his mother caused him being entirely gone, that's just too far off from reality and what they know, but they can imagine it being softened a little. they can imagine him being allowed to start healing instead of spending his first year at school getting worse and worse. they can dream of a world where riddle doesn't have the stressful responsibility of being dorm leader, a responsibility that contributed to keeping him under his mother's thumb by allowing him to tyrannize the dorm and force his obsession with rules on everyone else. cater dreamt that he was dorm leader and riddle was not only a normal card soldier, but a DJ for cater's parties, and having a fun time! trey dreamt that chenya not only went to NRC with them but became the dorm leader--that the happy trio of their childhood was reunited and riddle would be known as a great student who others could always ask for help, who lets himself feel free to eat what he wants instead of continuing to follow his mother's rules. both cater and trey's perfect dream worlds took away riddle's role as dorm leader, something that for his whole first year at NRC had served to prolong his trauma, and replaced it with him remaining a normal student so heartslabyul could be a safe place where he was free from his mother's influence instead. that's just so sweet it makes me want to cry.

#twisted wonderland #trey clover #cater diamond #riddle rosehearts #chenya #twst #yeah this one is going in the main tags #even though i wrote most of it while in the middle of my liveblog #because i am SURE there's been trey discourse again after his dream #twst book 7 spoilers #twisted wonderland book 7 spoilers #star.txt

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babybearnation · 2 days ago

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boy, you got me drunk on a feeling

⎇lance stroll x gn!reader - he accidentally drinks your drink (oneshot) ⎇author’s note: inspired by my tags on this post. also first fic in 20 days.. this is scary, actually??? ⎇content warnings: drinking/alcohol, suggestive ⎇word count: 1.3k

You smile sweetly and accept the drink Lance hands you. It's your first whereas Lance is already on his second. He slinks into the booth next to you, eagerly joining in on whatever topic of conversation Esteban, Mick & Checo had chosen. You had zoned it out before, too busy casting a careful eye across the club as you tracked the path of your boyfriend.

It wasn't that you didn't trust him and thought he'd sneak off with someone else, no, Lance would never. But... drunk Lance is clumsy Lance and drunk Lance is a Lance who's had one and a half drinks. You were just being cautious, that's all.

You can tell Lance has gotten properly drunk when he shuffles closer, still deep in conversation as he latches his arms around your midriff, his head resting against your shoulder. You smile at his clinginess and peck the top of his head before looking around the club again. To be honest, you were just here for Lance, not really a big fan of the post-race clubbing scene. Too many WAG fights for your liking.

"Baby?" You turn back to face Lance when he calls for you, your faces really close together. You smile at him, a non-verbal gesture for him to continue speaking. "Are you okay?"

"Oh yeah. Just... looking around." You say, shrugging carefully so as to not dislodge Lance's head from your shoulder. Lance frowns softly, his eyebrows furrowing, before he's sitting upright.

"Grab your drink." Lance says, trying to usher you out of the booth. You look at him in confusion, eyebrows sharply furrowed. Lance huffs and grabs your drink as well as his. "I wanna dance, come on. Let's go." Lance says. You laugh softly at his enthusiasm and pluck your bottle from his grip before allowing him to lead you over to the dance floor, your fingers tangled together.

You and Lance stuck to the edge of the dance floor, your arms around each other as you danced together. Lance was singing the occasionally lyric here and there, his voice cracking with drunken excitement. It makes you shake with laughter each time.

After what felt like hours of dancing, you stop and lean in to whisper (or rather, yell) into Lance's ear. "I'm gonna go to the bathroom, okay? Can you take my drink back to the table for me, honey?" Lance nods and takes your half-finished drink from your hand before kissing you one last time. You watch him make his way over to the booth before turning and heading towards the bathroom.

After standing in a ridiculously long queue, you finally managed to get in and out of the bathroom, quickly pushing through throngs of people to get back to the table your boyfriend was adorably pouting at, all of his friends having disappeared.

"Lancey, honey, why do you look so upset?" You say, slipping into the booth next to him. He startles, looking up at you with wide eyes, before all but launching himself at you, his arms wrapping around your shoulders.

"Everyone left to get drinks. I stayed here for you!" Lance slurs. He's had more to drink since you left, you note. You look around for your drink, noting only empty bottles and glasses.

"And... my drink?" You ask, meeting Lance's gaze again. Lance looks around at the contents littering the table before gasping, his shoulders unfurling as he sits up straight.

"I drank it. Fuck. Y/n, baby, 'm so sorry. Forgive me." Lance whines, nuzzling his face in your neck. You chuckle softly, threading your fingers through his dark, thick strands, scratching softly. Lance continues to whine indecipherable words and you sigh, pulling his face away from your neck.

"What are you saying?" You say softly, smiling sweetly at the pretty yet intoxicated mess that is your boyfriend. His half-lidded gaze makes your stomach softly turn with lust, but you push it down. He's too drunk to be doing anything like that.

"Buy you another one. 'M sorry." Lance slurs. You think it over before shrugging. One and a half drinks won't make you that tipsy. You soon accept and before long, Lance is basically dragging you out of the booth the second you agree, giggling excitedly about making things better. You smile softly and let him lead you over to the bar.

Excluding the half of your bottle that he accidentally drank, Lance is on his seventh drink. You've already told him he has to stop after this one, but you still catch him sneaking sips of other people's drinks when he thinks you aren't looking.

"Y/n, my love, 'm sorry." Lance says, dragging the final word out. You smile at him, despite the confusion you feel. He whines and presses even closer to you, his lips pursed out in an alcohol-slick pout. You lean down and peck his lips, startling him, before he giggles excitedly, leaning up for another kiss. You deny him it.

"Why you sorry, Lance?" You ask instead, picking up your soda. You take a sip and offer some to Lance who perks up and eagerly sips from your straw, his eyes closing as he swallows down what he drank. About a third of your drink is gone now.

Lance seems to realise at the same time you do and he whines, nuzzling his face against your bicep like a cat. "Keep stealing your drinks." Lance slurs. He lifts his face up and you watch as his lip literally quivers, tears pooling in his eyes. It's adorable.

"Oh darling, it's okay. You're just thirsty, huh, baby?" You say, gently brushing your fingers over Lance's eyes. Your thumb comes away damp with unshed tears. Lance huffs before looking up with a pleading expression on his face.

"Buy you another?" Lance asks. You chuckle and lean down to kiss him again, more insistent this time. Lance whines and grips at your arms, pressing up against you. The kiss is a mess, spit smearing everywhere, but Lance is making the prettiest of sounds against your mouth, so you can't pull away just yet.

When you do finally part, Lance continues to look at you with pleading eyes. You tilt your head before remembering what he'd said before you'd kissed him. "No, honey, I'm okay. We're gonna go home soon, okay? I'm sober enough to drive." You say. Lance hums before snatching up his drink and downing the rest of it in one go.

You splutter before laughing, picking up your drink and copying him, forgoing the straw. "Bathroom first." Lance says and you allow him to lead the way, sighing in relief when you notice the lack of queue. You two quickly use the bathroom before Lance is clinging to your side again.

"Home, yeah?" You asks. Lance slurs 'home' in response before falling into a mumbled litany of 'sorry's. You shush him and sooth him through each one, but his words never trail off despite your insistent promises that it's okay and that you've already forgive him.

When you get to the car, you can't even open Lance's door for him, your boyfriend instead pressing you against the side of the car as he sloppily mouths at your neck.

"'M sorry... how do I prove 'm sorry?" Lance mumbles. The cold night air brushes against the wet patch of spit from Lance's mouth that stains your neck, and you shiver, tightening your grip on Lance's hips.

"Lance, honey, I've already forgiven you. I wasn't even mad to begin with." You say, chuckling softly when your boyfriend pouts up at you again. You sigh and roll your eyes fondly. You really ought to have learnt how dramatic Lance can be sometimes. "How about a kiss then?"

"Eighteen..." Lance murmurs. You laugh boisterously at his number choice before cupping his face, soothing a gentle thumb over the plump, pink curve of his cheek.

"Eighteen kisses for Mr. Stroll, coming up." You say, leaning in. Lance eagerly presses back against you. When you pull away, he murmurs a small one and a jolt of excitement goes through you. "You better count each and every one, baby."

"I will. Now kiss me again..."

#ᵔᴥᵔ fics #formula 1 #f1 #lance stroll #ls18 #formula 1 x reader #f1 x reader #lance stroll x reader #ls18 x reader #formula 1 oneshot #f1 oneshot #babybearnation

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lunaswicked · 23 hours ago

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The Main Event

A/N: I know there are plenty of Jey Girlies out here trying to get him to call them "baby" in 2025 after the Royal Rumble meet and greet. So… I wrote a little fic for y’all—enjoy!

Paring: Jey Uso, Fem!Reader

Word Count: 5.9k

Summary: You cross paths with WWE superstar Jey Uso at the end of the meet and greet event. Every glance, every touch, every word between you only makes things more intense. You've never felt anything like this before—completely lost in the moment, in him.

Tags: 18+, Unprotected AND protected p in v, body fluids, age gap (22 & 37), pet names, body fluids, language, rough, MINORS DNI

"You sure you'll be good by yourself?" My bestie, Genesis, eyed me with suspicion, arms crossed like she already knew the answer.

I barely heard her. My gaze flickered left to right, scanning the dwindling crowd, my heart pounding with every second that passed. I was on my tiptoes, stretching my neck like a meerkat, trying to catch even the smallest glimpse of him.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm good," I mumbled, nodding a little too fast.

She didn't buy it, but she sighed and let me be.

It was the tail end of the WWE meet and greet, and if it wasn’t for my mom, I wouldn’t even be here right now. According to everyone back home, I was on vacation in Puerto Rico, living my best life, soaking up the sun and eating good. Which wasn’t a lie, technically. But my mom—being the absolute legend she is—went out of her way to get me and Genesis plane tickets for this. Even though we’re 22, she still spoils me like crazy, and honestly? I don’t complain.

But let’s be real—I didn’t fly all the way out here just for the vacation. I came for him.

Jey Uso.

The man, the myth, the fine ass legend.

I’d been waiting for this moment forever, and now that I was here, my chest was tight, my hands clammy. I told myself I just wanted a picture, something to heal my inner child, to give younger me the moment she never got. But deep down? I knew it was more than that.

I wanted to see him up close, hear his voice in real-time, not through a screen. I wanted to soak in the energy, feel the presence that made so many people gravitate toward him.

This was my chance. I just had to make sure I didn’t freeze up the second I got in front of him.

"Aight," Genesis said, her tone laced with a mix of amusement and concern. She leaned in, pressing a quick kiss to my cheek before pulling back, her hands resting on my shoulders like she was trying to ground me. "Call me when you're done, meet me back at the hotel, or at least send me an update so I know you're alive."

I rolled my eyes but smiled, appreciating her looking out for me even when she knew I was stubborn. "Okay, love," I said, my voice softer now, filled with gratitude.

She gave me one last knowing look—like she could already tell I was about to lose my damn mind over Jey Uso—before turning on her heel and heading toward the exit, disappearing into the thinning crowd.

The crowd was thinning out, people slowly making their way toward the exits, chatting, laughing, clutching their signed merch like trophies. I weaved through them, my heart racing, my hands slightly clammy, but I kept moving, determined.

Then, out of the corner of my eye, I spotted a booth tucked away from all the noise, half-hidden like a little secret. My breath hitched. I squinted, my pulse hammering as I focused in.

It was him.

Right there, wrapping up his meet and greet, looking even better in real life than he did on my screen.

Without thinking, I picked up my pace, speed-walking like my life depended on it. I dodged people left and right, slipping past groups deep in conversation, maneuvering around security, my one and only goal clear in my mind.

I had to get to him.

And just like that, I reached his booth, standing mere feet away from the man I had flown all this way to see.

His head lifted, slow and deliberate, like he felt me staring before he even saw me. My breath hitched as he pulled off his shades, revealing those deep, warm brown eyes that had been living rent-free in my head for way too long. His signature mullet framed his face perfectly, the ends dipped in a splash of pink to match his fit.

His hands stilled over his bag he had been packing up, his gaze locking onto mine with an intensity that made my stomach flip. My fingers twitched as I reached into my pocket for my phone, my voice barely above a whisper.

"Can I—"

I didn’t even get to finish.

Chaos erupted around us as security started ushering people out, their voices booming over the remaining murmurs of the crowd. A heavy presence loomed beside me, and before I could react, a thick hand wrapped around my wrist.

"Ma’am—" the deep voice started, all authoritative and serious.

Before he could finish, Jey cut in, his tone smooth but firm. "Aye, she wit’ me, uce."

Just like that, the security guard let go, his grip instantly replaced by Jey’s much warmer, much bigger hand. The contrast sent a shiver down my spine, but I had no time to process it because Jey was already moving.

Still holding my hand, he started walking toward the exit like it was the most natural thing in the world. And without thinking, without questioning, I followed—because how could I not?

We stepped outside, the cool night air hitting my skin as I tried to steady my racing heart. The energy was different out here—quieter, more intimate, like the world had shrunk down to just the two of us.

Right in front of me, towering in all its glossy, decked-out glory, was his tour bus. And there he was—his face plastered right on the side of it, larger than life, staring down at me like fate was playing some kind of sick joke.

I swallowed hard, my fingers still wrapped around my phone, but I wasn’t thinking about taking a picture anymore. Not when Jey was standing right here, holding my hand, like he hadn’t just pulled me out of a crowd and told security I was with him.

He glanced over at me, a smirk tugging at his lips. "You good?"

Oh, I was far from good. My brain was short-circuiting. My childhood dream and my grown-woman reality were colliding in real-time.

But I somehow found my voice, even if it came out softer than I intended.

"Yeah… just takin’ it all in."

Jey chuckled, a deep, smooth sound that sent a shiver down my spine. His grip on my hand tightened just slightly before he let go, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a key.

"Aight then, c’mon," he said, nodding toward the bus.

I blinked. My brain needed a minute to process. Was I really about to step onto Jey Uso’s tour bus?

The door hissed open, and he stepped up first, turning back to make sure I was following. My legs moved before my mind could even catch up, carrying me up the steps and into his space.

The inside was insane. Dim, moody lighting, plush leather seating, a huge flat-screen mounted on the wall playing highlights from Raw, and the faint scent of cologne and something sweet—probably from whatever candle was burning on the counter near the mini bar.

Jey dropped his bag on one of the seats and turned to face me, arms crossing over his chest as he leaned back slightly. His chain glinted under the lights, catching my attention for a split second before my gaze flicked back up to his face.

"So," he drawled, a teasing smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "You was real determined. What’s good? You came all this way just to see me?"

I swallowed, suddenly very aware of how close we were in this small space. "I mean… yeah," I admitted, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. "Had to make sure I got my moment."

Jey raised a brow, looking impressed. "Oh, so this a whole mission, huh?" He licked his lips, nodding like he was piecing everything together. "Aight, well… since you came all this way, what you want, mama? A pic? A hug? Somethin’ signed?"

I stared at him, my heart hammering.

"I want a picture, yeah… but also, I just wanted to meet you. Like, really meet you." My voice came out softer than I expected, but I meant every word.

Jey tilted his head slightly, studying me for a second before that smirk deepened.

"Oh yeah?" His voice dropped a little, eyes flickering over my face like he was trying to read me. "Aight then… let’s talk. Get comfortable. You got my attention now."

I exhaled, feeling the weight of his words settle over me.

I had Jey Uso’s attention.

Now, what was I gonna do with it?

I eased down onto the seat across from him, the plush leather cool against my skin. Jey, on the other hand, sat back like he owned the place—which, I mean, he did. Legs spread wide, completely relaxed, the definition of unbothered. His chain caught the dim light as he leaned into the sofa, his fingers absentmindedly drumming against his knee.

I crossed my legs, mirroring his energy in my own way, trying to play it cool even though my heart was beating out of my damn chest.

"Why’d you help me with that security?" I finally asked, tilting my head slightly.

At that, Jey sat up, planting his elbows on his knees as he looked me dead in the eyes.

"‘Cause you ain’t look like you was finna take no for an answer," he said, his voice low and smooth. "You had that look, like you was on a mission. I respect that."

I bit the inside of my cheek, trying to suppress the smile threatening to creep up. "So, what? You just go around saving fans?"

Jey chuckled, shaking his head. "Nah, not like that." He ran a hand down his face before locking eyes with me again. "You was different. Somethin’ about the way you pulled up... I dunno. Felt like I had to see what you was on."

I felt a warmth spread through me at his words, but I kept my expression unreadable, letting my fingers trace along the hem of my skirt. "Well, now that you see me, what do you think?"

Jey’s smirk deepened, his gaze dropping for a split second—just long enough to send a wave of heat through my body—before he met my eyes again.

"I think you got my attention, mama. Question is… what you gon’ do with it?"

I let out a nervous chuckle, gripping my phone a little too tight like it was the only thing grounding me. “Umm, picture?” I asked, waving it slightly, my voice betraying how flustered I was.

Jey’s lips curved into that signature smirk—cocky, knowing—before he leaned back, draping an arm over the back of the sofa like he had all the time in the world. “Fasho. C’mere.” He patted the empty space next to him, eyes locked on me.

My legs felt weak as I stood, every step toward him making my pulse hammer against my ribs. I swear my knees were on the verge of buckling, but I kept it cute, sliding into the spot beside him like I wasn’t lowkey freaking out.

I opened my camera app, my fingers slightly shaky as I adjusted the angle. Before I could even position the phone right, Jey’s arm slid around my waist, pulling me flush against him.

My breath hitched. A tiny, soft gasp slipped out before I could stop it, and I prayed he didn’t catch it. Act normal, I told myself, trying to pretend like my body wasn’t reacting to how solid he felt against me, how his scent—something warm, masculine, and just a little sweet—wrapped around me like a damn embrace.

Focusing way too hard, I held up the phone, ready to take the pic. I smiled, but just as I went to press the button… I realized something.

Jey wasn’t looking at the camera.

His gaze? Fully locked on me.

My stomach flipped as I caught the way his dark eyes traced over my face, like he was memorizing every little detail. The way his arm was still wrapped tight around my waist, his fingers pressing just enough to make me feel it.

And that alone? Sent a pulse straight between my legs.

I cleared my throat, forcing myself to snap the picture before my brain short-circuited. Turning the phone toward him, I showed him the screen. “What you think?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.

But when I glanced up at him, his gaze still hadn’t moved. Still pinned right on me.

His smirk deepened, slow and deliberate, his grillz catching the dim light in the bus. He leaned in just slightly, voice dropping into something smooth, something dangerous.

"I think…" His fingers drummed lightly against my waist, sending a little shiver up my spine. "You look real good, baby."

My breath caught. Heat rushed to my face, but I refused to fold.

And just like that? I knew I was done for.

I swallowed hard, my brain struggling to keep up with the way he was looking at me—like I was the only thing in the room worth paying attention to. My fingers were still clutching my phone, but at this point, I wasn’t even thinking about the picture anymore.

"Oh, so I caught your eye?" I teased, tilting my head slightly, trying so hard to keep my cool.

Jey smirked, tongue running over his grillz as he leaned back against the sofa, his arm still draped around my waist like he belonged there. "You tell me." His voice was low, smooth, carrying a weight that settled deep in my stomach. "You the one who pulled up on me like you had somethin’ to prove."

I scoffed, rolling my eyes even though my body definitely reacted to the way he said that. "Boy, please." I tried to sound unbothered, but the way my voice wavered slightly? Yeah, he definitely caught that.

Jey chuckled, his grip tightening just a little before he finally let go, his arm sliding off my waist as he stretched out. I hated how much I missed the warmth of it immediately.

"So, what now?" he asked, raising a brow. "You got your picture. You tryna leave or…?"

I bit my lip, debating for half a second before deciding I was not about to be the girl who folded too fast. "Damn, you tryna get rid of me already?" I shot back, shifting slightly so I was turned toward him more.

His smirk widened, his gaze dropping to my legs for a moment before flicking back up to my face. "Nah," he said, voice dipping just a little. "If I wanted you gone, you’d know."

A shiver ran through me at the way he said that.

"So what do you want, then?" I challenged, arching a brow.

Jey exhaled, his tongue pressing against the inside of his cheek as he studied me. Then, slow and deliberate, he reached forward, his fingers grazing my chin as he tilted my face up just slightly.

"I'on know yet," he murmured, his thumb brushing lightly against my bottom lip. "Guess we gon' have to find out, huh?"

I swallowed hard, my palm pressing against the solid warmth of his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breath beneath my touch. His skin burned through the fabric of his shirt, radiating heat that sent a shiver down my spine. My fingers twitched, itching to explore more, but before I could even process what I was doing, my eyes drifted lower.

And damn.

The outline of his dick strained against his pants, thick and heavy, leaving nothing to the imagination. My thighs clenched instinctively, a deep ache pooling between them at just the sight of it. My breath hitched as I flicked my gaze back up, only to catch Jey watching me watching him, that cocky smirk still playing at his lips.

"That what you lookin’ for, mama?" His voice was all deep, rich amusement, but his eyes? They were hungry. Dark. Studying every little reaction I gave him like he was committing it to memory.

I felt my face heat, but I refused to fold. My nails lightly scraped against his chest as I tilted my head, lips curving into a slow smirk of my own. "You tell me, Jey," I murmured, dragging out his name just a little, testing the waters. "You tryna act innocent now?"

He let out a low chuckle, shaking his head as he leaned in, closing the space between us. The scent of his cologne—warm, woodsy, with just a hint of something sweet—wrapped around me, making me feel damn near dizzy.

"Ain’t nothin’ innocent ‘bout me, baby." His fingers trailed down to my waist, gripping me just enough to make me feel it. "Question is… you ready to handle that?"

His words sent a spark straight through me, igniting something reckless, something desperate. My breath was shallow, my pulse hammering, but I refused to back down. I let my hand slide down from his chest, teasing over the ridges of his abs, feeling the way his muscles tensed under my touch.

"What you think?" I whispered, meeting his gaze, daring him to make the next move.

Jey’s jaw flexed, his tongue running over his bottom lip as his grip on my waist tightened. And in one swift motion, he pulled me fully onto his lap, his hands sliding down to cup the curve of my ass, pressing me right against the undeniable proof of how bad he wanted me.

A sharp gasp left my lips, but he just smirked, his breath fanning against my skin as he murmured, "Oh yeah… you gon’ be a problem, huh?"

And fuck, I was so okay with that.

I could barely keep my breathing steady as Jey’s hands roamed, his grip tightening around my ass under my skirt. His eyes never left mine, that same intense, hungry gaze flicking between my lips and my eyes, making it clear just how much he was enjoying watching me unravel.

My breath hitched when I felt his fingers slide under the hem of my shirt. I froze, heart racing as he effortlessly unhooked my bra with one hand, his fingers brushing against my skin like it was nothing.

“You want me to take this off?” he asked, his voice low, as though the question was a test, a dare.

I nodded, my pulse racing as I slowly lifted my arms, silently pleading for him to just take over.

“mhm… please, Jey.” My voice came out softer than I meant, a mixture of nerves and need, but I couldn’t hold it back anymore. He was all I could think about, all I could feel in that moment.

A dark chuckle rumbled in his chest, and before I could blink, my shirt was over my head, tossed aside carelessly. His gaze dropped to my exposed chest, his eyes darkening, but he didn’t rush. He took his time, letting me feel the weight of his stare before his hands moved to my bra straps. His fingers brushed lightly over my skin as he slid the straps off my shoulders, and I let out a shaky breath, my body already responding to him, craving more.

"You’re fucking perfect."

And just like that, I felt the straps slide down my arms, the bra falling away, leaving me completely exposed to him. But the way he looked at me, like I was something to be worshipped, made the nervous flutter in my stomach turn into pure heat. I had never felt more wanted in my life.

“Fuck,” he whispered again, his hands gently cupping my bare breasts, squeezing just enough to make me moan softly. “You don’t know what you doin’ to me.” His thumb flicked over my nipple, sending a jolt of pleasure through me that made my head spin.

I couldn’t help but respond, my hands reaching up to tug at his shirt, urging him to take it off. The need between us was suffocating, and I wanted all of him, now.

“Let me feel you, Jey,” I breathed, my voice low with desperation.

He didn’t need to be told twice. His shirt was off in seconds, and as he leaned back in, his body pressing into mine, I knew I was in way deeper than I had ever planned to go. But with him? I didn’t care.

I could feel the heat of his skin beneath my fingertips as my hands roamed over his tattooed chest, tracing the intricate designs that marked his body. His muscles were like rock under my touch, every ridge and curve begging to be explored, and I couldn’t get enough of the way he felt. I let my fingers linger over his abs, feeling the tense flex of his body as he shifted beneath me.

Then, without warning, he bucked his hips up into me, the movement sending a shock of pleasure through me. I gasped, the sudden contact making everything feel even more intense. My body reacted instinctively, grinding back against him, matching the rhythm he set, my heart racing faster with every movement.

His hand slid up to the back of my neck, fingers curling into my hair, and in one swift motion, he yanked me down toward him, crashing his lips against mine in a fierce kiss. I melted into him instantly, his lips hot and demanding as they moved against mine. It was a kiss full of hunger, of urgency, and the way he pulled me even closer made my body ache for him.

I felt his lips part, and his tongue slid into my mouth, moving with slow intensity at first, teasing me, but then it deepened, his kiss becoming more urgent, more possessive. I responded in kind, matching the hunger in his kiss, my hands tracing the lines of his chest, my fingers brushing over the tattoos again, as if trying to memorize every inch of him.

His grip on my neck tightened, just enough to send a shiver down my spine, and he pulled away briefly, his eyes locking onto mine with a smoldering intensity that made my stomach flip.

“You feel that?” he breathed, his voice thick with desire. “You makin’ me lose my fucking mind.”

I nodded, my lips parting as I tried to catch my breath, but he wasn’t done. His hands moved quickly, one sliding to my ass, the other gripping my pulling my thong to the side, as he rocked his hips up again, forcing me to take in the intensity of his movements.

He could feel how much I wanted him, how wet this pussy was, and it made him smirk, that confident, cocky smirk that only added to the chaos building between us.

“Fuck, baby,” he growled, his lips trailing down to my neck, kissing and sucking at my skin, leaving marks that would stay long after this moment was over. “You so fuckin’ wet.”

His eyes stayed locked on mine, dark and smoldering with something dangerously addictive. Slowly, deliberately, he slid a finger between my pussy lips, teasing me before finally pressing inside. A sharp gasp left my lips as I clenched around him, my body instinctively reacting to his touch.

“shit…” I exhaled, my head tilting back slightly as a wave of pleasure rolled through me.

Jey bit his bottom lip, watching me, clearly loving the way I unraveled for him. His fingers moved with precision, sliding in deeper before curling just right, making my breath hitch.

"That feel good, baby?" he murmured, voice thick with satisfaction.

All I could do was nod, too caught up in the sensation, my body already craving more. His free hand found my waist, gripping me possessively as he worked his fingers deeper, the rhythm slow but devastating. The wet sounds between us only added to the heat of the moment, my arousal pooling onto his hand, onto the sofa beneath us.

“fuck,” he groaned, eyes flickering between my face and where his fingers disappeared inside of me. His voice was laced with hunger, like he was barely holding himself back. “You so damn sexy like this.”

I bit my lip, my thighs trembling as he picked up the pace, his fingers scissoring inside of me, pushing me further into bliss. My hands gripped his tattooed forearm, nails digging into his skin as pleasure built, hot and heavy in my core.

“Jey—” I whimpered, my voice barely above a breath.

His smirk deepened, his grip tightening just enough to keep me exactly where he wanted me. He leaned in, his lips ghosting over my ear as he rasped, “Nah, don’t get shy on me now. Let me hear you.”

And with that, he curled his fingers just right, sending a sharp jolt of pleasure through me that had me gasping his name—exactly how he wanted.

I didn’t even recognize myself anymore. I had gone completely feral, desperate for this man—this WWE superstar I’d been fantasizing about for years. Every ounce of self-control had disappeared the second he put his hands on me.

My fingers trembled as they reached between us, fumbling with the button of his jeans. Jey watched me with hooded eyes, his smirk dripping with amusement and lust. “Go ‘head, baby,” he murmured, his voice like gravel, deep and full of heat.

As soon as I popped the button, he lifted me with ease, his strong hands gripping my waist like I weighed nothing. I barely had time to react before he kicked off his jeans, leaving only his boxers between us. The outline of him was thick, heavy, and straining against the fabric, making my mouth water.

My breath hitched as I reached out, slipping my fingers beneath the waistband. The moment I tugged them down, his dick sprang free—tanned, thick, and topped with a soft pink hue that made my pussy throb with anticipation.

Jey let out a low chuckle at my reaction, his fingers digging into my thighs. “That what you wanted, huh?” His tone was teasing, but the hunger in his eyes told me he was just as gone as I was.

But nothing could’ve prepared me for the way he stood up, effortlessly lifting me with my legs still wrapped around his waist. My breath hitched as his bare dick brushed against my soaked heat, the friction making me whimper.

Jey let out a low groan, gripping me tighter. “You feel that?” he murmured, his voice thick with need, his lips ghosting over my jaw.

I could only nod again, too caught up in the way he carried me through the bus like I weighed nothing, his hands possessive on my skin. He walked us toward the back room, pushing the door open with ease. The moment we stepped inside, my breath stuttered—this wasn’t just some cramped space.

A king-sized bed sat in the center of the dimly lit room, draped in navy blue sheets that looked softer than sin. The walls were bathed in a cool blue glow, the only light coming from the dim LED strips along the ceiling. Plush white carpet covered the floor, and everything smelled faintly like his cologne—dark, musky, and intoxicating.

Jey set me down right at the edge of the bed, his large hands gripping my waist firmly before spinning me around in one smooth motion. I didn’t even think—I just moved, my body acting on instinct. I stepped onto the bed, sinking into the softness as I placed one knee down, then the other, slowly crawling toward the center.

The air was thick with anticipation, my skin buzzing under his heated gaze. I could hear the shift of fabric behind me, feel the weight of the bed dip as he climbed on behind me. My stomach flipped, my breath shallow as I waited—aching, desperate—for whatever came next.

“Arch that back for me, baby,” Jey’s voice was thick with heat, his hands gripping my waist like he owned me.

A shiver ran down my spine as I did what he said, pressing my chest into the mattress, my back curving just the way I knew he wanted. A deep, satisfied hum left his lips, followed by the sharp sting of his palm coming down against my skin. My breath hitched, the warmth of his touch following the burn, sending a delicious ache straight through me.

“Damn,” he murmured, his hands roaming, teasing. “That’s what I like… you listen real good, huh?”

I whimpered in response, my body on fire, anticipation curling low in my stomach. He made me feel wanted—desired in a way that was almost dizzying.

“Mhm, I wanna hear it all, baby.” His voice was rough, commanding, but there was something else laced in it, something deeper. “Show me why you came all this way.”

My lips parted, a gasp escaping me as I felt him, slow and deliberate, pushing me to the edge of my own self-control. Every nerve in my body was on high alert, and when he moved, deep and steady, both of our breaths tangled in the thick, heated air.

“Jey…” his name slipped from my lips, breathy and desperate, my fingers gripping the sheets like they were my only anchor.

He let out a low groan, almost a whimper, his forehead resting against my shoulder. “Damn, you feel too good…”

As I knelt there, completely lost in the moment, he drove into me with an force that sent shivers down my spine. Each thrust was harder, deeper, more frantic, and I felt every inch of him as he filled me completely. “Oh my God, yes, papi!” I cried out, a mix of pleasure and urgency spilling from my lips. My hair clung to my sweaty skin, caught in his strong grip as he pulled me closer, making each impact even more overwhelming.

My mouth fell open in pure ecstasy, drool slipping onto the sheets beneath us as the sensations took over. I couldn’t help but let the tears flow; they mixed with the pleasure coursing through me, and I felt as vulnerable as I was exposed, like a new soul becoming a slut. I had never experienced anything like this; it was as if he was tapping into something new within me, pushing every button until I felt an explosive wave of pleasure wash over me.

Just when I thought I couldn’t take anymore, he released his hold on my hair and pressed his hands firmly into my lower back, forcing my body to arch further, deeper. “JEY—PLEASE!” I moaned so loudly that I was almost embarrassed, but the need for more overwhelmed any sense of shame. “fuck, I’m not done with you yet, mama. This pussy too good to stop,” he groaned, his voice thick with desire. And with that, the rhythm picked up once again, sending me spiraling into a realm of pleasure I never knew existed.

When he finally sat up and pulled out of me, I turned around and crawled on my knees. I positioned myself right over him, straddling his lap. He reached over to the nightstand and grabbed a condom, ripping it open with his teeth like some kind of wild animal—a move that was honestly kind of sexy. Sliding it on with quick, practiced motions, he laid back comfortably.

As I settled myself down on his waiting, needy dick, I hissed at the delicious sensation. His hands shot out and gripped my hips firmly, anchoring me in place. I couldn’t help but start bouncing up and down, feeling every inch of him fill me up. “God damn, mama!” he moaned, flashing that eye-catching smile with his grillz sparkling like they were catching the light just for me.

“Yesss, papi! Ouuu, fuck!” I moaned back, throwing my head back in pure ecstasy, my body glowing with the pleasure of the moment.

“Fuck, I’m about to bust inside that pussy,” he growled through gritted teeth, thrusting up at me like he was on a mission. Honestly, trying to fight for dominance with Jey Uso was a losing battle, but I wasn’t complaining one bit. The way he was fucking me straight up felt like I was the last woman on earth, and it was everything I needed.

“Mmh, say my name again,” he demanded with a mischievous smirk, smacking my ass harder this time, sending shockwaves through my body that made my pussy clench around him like it was begging for more. “Pa-papiii!” I whimpered, practically begging for him. I could feel that familiar pressure building up, that sweet release creeping closer. It hit me like a freight train. I felt my orgasm rip through me as he buried himself deep, hitting that perfect spot, and then I could feel him release in the condom.

His hips jerked rhythmically beneath me, and as I looked up, I caught a glimpse of him lost in the moment. His eyes were fluttered shut, breathing heavy, and he was licking his lips like I was the feast. The sight alone sent a guttural moan escaping my lips. I felt so full, so satisfied, and then I collapsed onto him, rolling to the side, my whole body buzzing with post-orgasm bliss.

I was absolutely exhausted, but in the best way possible. “You straight, ma?” he asked softly, his breath still uneven. I nodded, a tired smile creeping across my face.

Somewhere in the haze of exhaustion and bliss, my phone started buzzing, but I barely had the energy to care, much less pick it up. I groaned, burrowing deeper into the covers, letting the noise blend into the background.

But then—silence.

I peeked one eye open, confused. That’s when I saw Jey, standing at the foot of the bed, holding my phone up to his ear. Oh, hell.

“Yo, Genesis, right?” His deep voice, smooth as ever, carried across the room as he pressed the speaker button.

Immediately, my best friend’s voice exploded through the speaker.

“Oh, HELL no. Who is this? And WHERE the hell is my bestie? I swear to God, if you did ANYTHING to her—”

Jey, completely unfazed, cut her off effortlessly, his tone laced with amusement.

“Jey. Jey Uso,” he introduced himself like it was supposed to mean something. “She wit’ me right now. And yeah, I did do somethin’ to her.” He glanced down at me, smirking like the menace he was. “Now she layin’ here all pillow princess and shit.”

I shot up just enough to snatch at my phone, but he dodged me like this was a damn game. “Jey!” I whined, my voice still laced with sleep.

Genesis went dead silent for a second. Then—

“Oh my GOD??!!! Jey Uso?? Umm, okay, tell her to call me in the morning, mkay BYE.”

And just like that, the line went dead.

I blinked. “Did she just—?”

Jey let out a deep chuckle, shaking his head. “Yo best friend just fanned out and dipped.”

I flopped back onto the pillows, groaning. “That girl is a damn clown.”

Jey finally put my phone on the nightstand, then crawled back into bed beside me, his body radiating warmth. He reached over, pulling me closer like it was second nature.

“Guess that means you’re stuck with me till morning, huh?” he murmured, lips brushing against my temple.

I hummed, melting into his hold. “Mm, guess so.” If Genesis had a meltdown over that call, she was in for a lot more tomorrow.

#smut #fanfic #jey uso #wwe fanfiction #jey uso fanfiction #jey uso smut #jey uso x reader #jey uso fic #main event jey uso

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mylovesstuffs · 1 day ago

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OT13 reaction to catching you masturbating

Request: hii! I absolutely love your svt reactions so I have a request for you!! would you be comfortable writing smth like "svt catching you masturbate" ? thank you so much already!!

A/N: I kept the relationship between the reader and the member ambiguous in some parts, while in others, it’s more evident that they’re in a relationship. So yeah, little mix of both! Added smut tag just cause of the topic...

Content: Suggestive MDNI! Nothing too graphic at all, but still, minors, don’t interact. Be good, okay?

Seungcheol: At first, he’s stunned. Freezes in place, eyes widening as he processes what he just walked into. But then that smirk creeps onto his lips. “Did you get too impatient, baby?” he teases, stepping closer. He’d love to take over, but he also respects your space, so he leans against the doorframe with his arms crossed, watching with dark amusement. “I could help, but this is kinda fun to watch too.” Yeah, yeah, Ik I don’t write voyeurism, but this is just how it felt for Seungcheol, okay? It’s got voyeuristic elements, sure, but it’s not strict voyeurism—it’s all consensual, playful, and definitely not secretive. It’s less sneaky peeking and more teasing dynamics in intimacy

Jeonghan: He lives for this moment. He doesn’t just walk in—he leisurely strolls in, leans against the wall, and takes in the scene with that infuriatingly smug expression. “Well, well, well… having fun without me?” He enjoys teasing you until you’re a flustered mess. Loves getting under your skin, enjoying every moment of your embarrassment. He might even pretend to leave just to see if you'll call him back. If you do, he’s all in, but you’ll have to prove just how much you want him to join and once you prove it, his hands will be on you in an instant.

Joshua: He wants to be polite. His first instinct is to look away, muttering a flustered, “Oh my God, I—sorry! I didn’t mean to—” But then he realizes exactly what you’re doing and… yeah, now he’s not looking away anymore. His voice drops as he slowly approaches, “You don’t have to do that alone, you know.” His fingers gently guide you, helping you as he closes the distance between your bodies. And suddenly, his usual sweet smile is replaced as his hands move with purpose.

Jun: Jun’s first reaction is Pure Curiosity™. “Oh? What’s going on here?” He tilts his head, watching you with a fascinated look like he’s studying a piece of art. He doesn’t get flustered—if anything, he’s intrigued. After a beat, he grins, “Should I go, or should I join?” He steps closer, "So, what are you waiting for?" he asks, a mischievous grin forming on his lips. He slowly reaches out, his fingers brushing against your skin as if to test the waters. He's teasing, but there's a daring edge to it now. After a beat of silent tension, he pulls back slightly, letting the moment linger. "If you're not going to make the first move," he whispers, "I will."

Hoshi: You hear a GASP. He SLAMS the door shut behind him—but he’s still inside the room. “OH MY GOD—” His hands are on his head, pacing like he just witnessed something forbidden. “I DIDN’T SEE ANYTHING—Wait, should I leave?! DO YOU WANT ME TO LEAVE??” Eventually, he gathers himself, but his ears are still burning red. “…Or, um, do you want me to… stay?” He glances back at you, and the sight makes him freeze once more. His face is still flushed, but there's a resolve in his eyes now. Okay, okay, he mumbles, walking over to you like he's still unsure if he's making the right decision. "Do you need help?" Without waiting for an answer, he reaches for you, his hands hesitant but gentle.

Wonwoo: At first, he stops dead in his tracks. Doesn’t say a word, just blinks as his brain malfunctions. And then he simply backs up, slowly closing the door. But now he can’t get the image out of his head. Later that day, you catch him looking at you from across the room, his eyes full of teasing smirk. "Couldn't wait for me, huh?" he whispers when you're alone, leaning close enough for you to feel the heat of his breath. His fingers graze your wrist, and then without missing a beat, he starts to kiss his way down your neck. The tension is palpable, and this time, he's in control. He's not waiting anymore.

Woozi: Immediately turns bright red. “I DIDN’T SEE ANYTHING.” Tries to flee, but his feet won’t move. His brain is fighting itself, one part is screaming at him to leave, while the other part is very much enjoying the view. The initial fluster has him rooted to the spot, but eventually, the attraction takes over. He mumbles, “…Do you want help or not?” It takes everything in him to ask, but once he does, it's game over for you. His voice is low, almost shy, but it carries a command that makes your heart race. When you nod, he wastes no time, his hands finding yours with a tensed grip. His touch is tentative at first, but soon, he's all in, his lips finding yours with a passion that he hadn't let himself show before.

Dokyeom: Screams. Trips over his own feet. Panics. “I DIDN’T SEE ANYTHING—I MEAN I DID, BUT I—SHOULD I—WHAT—” He’s so flustered it’s almost adorable. Once he finally calms down, he fidgets and mumbles, “…Do you want me to, um, help?” His ears are red, but his eyes are hopeful. As he approaches you, he seems to forget his earlier panic, his hands now reaching for you, "I-I think I can help,” he stammers again, but this time, he doesn't hesitate. His hands are firm on your shoulders, and he pulls you closer, his gentleness surprising you as his lips press against yours, his hands tracing every curve of your body with an intensity he didn't expect. Give my man sex pls.

Mingyu: Gasps so loudly you’d think he’s the one getting caught. “OH—OH MY—” He doesn’t know whether to leave, apologize, or combust on the spot. You have to tell him what to do, or he’ll stand there, frozen. But once his brain finally catches up...he’s more than ready to make up for lost time and before you know it, he's at your side. "Okay, okay," he says, shaking off his earlier surprise. "I get it now." He steps closer, placing his hands on your hips as he leans in with, "Don't worry, I'm here to make it better," he assures, but you can see the mischief in his eyes. He's up to no good. His hands guide you to where he wants you, all the while his touch slowly becomes more possessive, staking his claim.

Minghao: Completely unbothered. Doesn’t even blink. He doesn't rush, simply closes the door behind him with a soft click. His eyes never leave yours, and his voice is smooth as he steps closer. "If you needed something, you could've asked," he says adding, “Do you want to keep going, or should I take over?” and he takes over. He doesn't wait for you to answer, he pulls you into his arms, his kiss urgent but controlled. "You've already started," he murmurs against your lips, his hands quickly shedding your inhibitions as he shows you exactly how it should be done.

Seungkwan: Gasps like he just walked into a crime scene. “EXCUSE ME?!” He immediately turns away, covering his eyes. After his initial freak-out, “So, uh... can I help now?" he asks, his voice low-key shy but high-key teasing lol. You could tell he's adjusting his pants but when you give him that look, his confidence blossoms. He's no longer the embarrassed mess he was at first. Slowly, sensually, seductively he approaches you, his hands growing bolder as he finally touches you. His kisses come faster now, each one more urgent than the last as he makes sure you feel every moment..

Vernon: Pauses. Blinks. Says, “Oh.” And that’s it. But while he looks unbothered, his brain is actually short-circuiting. Stares for a second too long before he clears his throat and casually says, “Need a hand?” as if he’s offering to carry groceries. Yeah, he’s definitely into it. He sits down next to you, his hands light as he takes the lead, guiding your movements with authority. There's a calm to him, but his touch speaks volumes as he watches you closely, reading your every reaction. He's patient-waiting for you to tell him what you want next, while making sure you enjoy the moment with him.

Dino: Immediate panic. “OH—uh—SORRY—” His hands go up defensively, but he doesn’t actually leave. At first, he's unsure of what to do, but then his confidence kicks in, “…Wait. If you’re in the mood, then why am I over here?” he asks, his voice now a little more assertive. His hands slide up your arms, moving you toward him. "Let me show you how it's done,” he adds, his tone full of playful arrogance as he leans in, capturing your lips in a heated kiss. His movements are confident now, as if this is exactly where he was meant to be all along.

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hyperfocusthusly · 1 day ago

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You spin me right round

@bucktommyfluffebruary day 5 - prompt: ‘mundane chores’

Notes: established relationship, domestic fluff, ft laundry menace Tommy Kinard | Rated: G | Words: 544

[Read on A03]

——-

It’s laundry day.

Buck smiles to himself at the thought. It had taken a few long and difficult conversations, but now they were here. In Tommy’s house, together, on laundry day. It’s not normally a chore that Buck looks forward to but he finds even the simplest jobs are made more enjoyable by sharing them with Tommy. The safe domesticity of it all made Buck’s chest feel funny, in a nice way for a change.

He pulls the sheets off the bed and bundles them up in his arms, makes his way downstairs to where Tommy is sat in front of the washing machine. The door is open and a bag of mismatched laundry sits next to him. Buck deposits the bedding and leans over, dropping a kiss to the top of Tommy’s head.

He straightens up and eyes the basket of laundry next to them.

“You were going to sort these right?”

Tommy looks at the laundry, then up at Buck, then back at the laundry.

“Yes?”

The hesitation clear in his voice suggests otherwise.

“Tell me you weren’t just going to put all of that in the same cycle.”

“No?”

Buck kneels down next to him and starts rifling through the basket.

“Tommy! There are like eight different colours in here!”

Tommy squints at him.

“It’s always been fine.”

Buck splutters.

“Fine?!?” He takes a breath. “From here I can see a white shirt and a red sock. You’re just asking for a pink shirt disaster.”

“It’s never happened before.”

Buck lets out an exasperated huff, tinged with fondness.

“Just because it has never happened before, doesn’t mean it can’t.” He is already pulling clothes out of the basket, separating them into lights and colours.

“Wouldn’t be a problem if it did, I think it nice,” Tommy’s hands come to rest on Buck’s knees. “When one thing rubs off on another and they get to make something new.” Buck feels his chest swell. “Besides, I’d look good in a pink shirt.”

Buck faces him, turning the thought over in his mind. Tommy waggles his eyebrows and shifts closer, his hands gliding up the outside of Buck’s thighs.

“If it was purposefully pink then yes, of course you would look good in a-” He stops abruptly, a small gasp falling from his lips instead as Tommy completes his journey up Buck’s legs and slides his fingers just inside the band of Buck’s sweatpants.

Tommy would definitely look good in a pink shirt he thinks, maybe even better if was on the floor. The fingers that are sliding along his waistband dig in deeper. He tilts forwards, almost forgets about the laundry.

Almost.

“No!” He blurts out, batting Tommy’s hands away. “You are not getting away with this Mr Kinard.” Tommy huffs good naturedly and pulls his hands back to Buck’s thighs. “You are a laundry related disaster waiting to happen.”

“Okay, okay. If you teach me your ways can I get back to mine?”

“Mmmm, only if you listen very carefully.” Buck tips forwards, “there will be a test.” He punctuates each word with a gentle peck to Tommy’s lips. “If you pass, then I’ll have to give you a reward, of course.”

“Well of course.”

Buck could get used to laundry day.

Tagging some beloveds (as always let me know if you want to be added or removed);

@leashybebes @loucifersbitch @livelaughlou @dark-alice-lilith @mmso-notlikethat @laundryandtaxesworld @hippolotamus @bucksaiga @littlepaws9 @sad-girl-hours23 @evansbuck-ley @jamieroyjamieroy @typicalopposite

@moonydanny @teenmaximoff @bucksboobs @ohithankyou @bi-bi-buckleys @rubydaiquiri @hellion-child @aringofsalt @sweaters-and-silly @theotherbuckley @comfortingevanbuckley @epiphainie @wikiangela @bidisasterevankinard

@sunnywithachanceofbi @desert--moonchild @blitzynatural @actuallyitsellie @big-urchin-energy @fyrehose @buckleyskinards @owlgirl495 @honeyloulou @setmeatopthepyre @salty-autistic-writer @thecarrott @beanarie

#I say laundry menace like I’m not 100% team Tommy on this one #bucktommy #911 #bucktommy fluffebruary #domestic fluff #fluff #slice of life #evan buckley #tommy kinard #my writing

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watermotif · 3 days ago

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i remember once reading your tags about how your perception of writer’s block was changed by a book/author….? I’m struggling with it at the moment so if you have advice 🤲🏽

I typed up such a long answer and then tumblr ate it AGH but here we go again. What it really boils down to is dont start wallowing in your writers block

It was this anthony bourdain quote, which I read at a point where i was spending more time complaining about writers block than actually writing

My writers block came from the fact that i saw it as this incredibly intimidating task, that everything i write has to be perfect and irreproachable in every way etc. Basically putting so much pressure on myself that i just didnt write at all. Which is silly! Like, what a privilege to be able to sit at my desk for hours and whine because i cant get a sentence right, you know? & meanwhile the world is going up in flames. I'm very good at pitying myself and wallowing (lol) but i remembered that if i keep going like this, i will never write anything and only complain. Which scares me more than the idea of writing something bad! You can edit and improve bad writing but you cant edit a nothing. So I try to stop agonizing about talent & focus on sticking with the habit instead. (It's like that fka twigs quote hard work beats talent when talent doesnt work hard etc)

This hanif post is also something i think about a lot. If this is what i decide to do with my limited time on earth then i need to take it seriously and so on

Of course all of this doesnt mean that i find it easy to write! I still complain about it, i still find that sometimes it feels like pulling teeth, sometimes it still feels high stakes. Every day is different! When i struggle with starting i find that marie howe exercise helpful. But it's also okay (and necessary) to step away from it when it doesnt work. Do anything else, go for a walk, make something with your hands, watch a movie etc. It will come back to you, even if it's days, weeks, months later!

And then of course there is this poem by marge piercy. The real writer is one who really writes!

Hope this is somehow coherent ^_^ Good luck with your writing❣️

#tldr if you're like me and had a massive ego problem read some baldwin morrison and jordan and get over yourself #answered

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crowsofdarkness · 1 day ago

Text

Vaz Prizrak: Chapter Fifteen

-gif not mine. credit to owner-

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Female Agent! Reader.

Content Warnings: language, 18 + implied smut, angst, fluff, violence, mentions of losing a pregnancy, thoughts of taking one's life, an attempt to take one's life. I will give another warning when that chapter is posted.

Summary: Bucky and Reader have been in their own solace while in Wakanda for years. They were finally happy to create the life they wanted and deserved. That was until a new foe came along to dust it all away.

Authors Note: This takes place during Infinity War and Endgame! If you haven't yet, please read Soldat and Dorogaya beforehand.

Tags: @globetrotter28 @sakuracyberhex @chinggay85-blog @bookofriverr @misatxox @that-blonde-girl @cats-chaotic-mind @wintrsoldrluvr @sebastians-love @pumpkin-babydoll @ordelixx @starfly-nicole @j23r23 @baw1066 @capswife

Soldat Masterlist | Dorogaya Masterlist | Vaz Prizrak Masterlist

“Y/N?”

“Doll, you have to wake up.”

“Come on love, you have to get up.

“GET UP, Y/N!”

My eyes snapped open with a sudden alert, fire shooting from my hands towards the man that loomed over me.

“Hey, it’s me. It’s Steve.” He grabbed my hands, allowing me to calm my fear for a moment.

The pain had set in, deep into my bones, so I let Steve gently pull me to my feet. Our former home that was the Avengers compound laid at our feet in a pile of rubble.

“Are you okay?” Steve questioned as he gave me a quick once over.

“Besides the splitting headache, I’m fine. What happened?”

He looked around, confused, before shaking his head.

“I don’t know.” He answered.

“When you mess with time, it tends to mess back.” Tony said, coming behind us. “C’mon, you’ll see.”

He motioned towards the edge of the makeshift cliff made from the debris where Thor stood, staring down at something below. A gasp of horror fell from my lips when I saw what our current situation was; a large space ship floated idly in the sky and someone we never thought we would have to face again.

Thanos sat waiting for something, possibly a fight.

“How can this be? You killed him,” I mentioned to Thor.

“I have no idea,” he shook his head, equally confused as the rest of us.

“Where are all the stones?” Steve asked.

“Somewhere under all of this.”

I nodded. “Good, let’s keep it that way.”

“It’s probably a trap, right?” Thor stated.

“I don’t much care,” Tony shrugged.

Thor called Mjolnir and Stormbreaker, lighting striking down around us, while I let the fire burn warm to my fingertips, the flames dancing in sync with the wind. Over the years, I mastered being able to let the fire burn without burning myself or extinguishing on its own. I had also mastered a few other tricks with my flames, others that no one had seen yet.

But they were about too.

“Let’s go kill this son of a bitch again. Properly this time,” I fumed while adjusting my mask.

The strands of my hair had turned to flames, framing my face with a warm sensation. My feet had ascended from the ground, the flames from my hands keeping me up in the air as I floated with the wind.

“What the hell,” Steve muttered, astonished at what he had just witnessed.

“I see you’ve been practicing.”

The familiar voice brought a smirk to my lips before I gave Steve my attention once more.

“What, this?” I motioned to myself. “Pft, I’ve been doing this for years.

While they walked their way down to Thanos, I flew above them, keeping a close distance in case they needed help.

“You couldn’t live with your own failure,” Thanos chuckled towards us.

It was a dark chuckle that made your skin crawl in disgust.

His speech had fallen on deaf ears as I took in the surroundings. Half of our team was missing, unsure where they had ended up after the blast. It was only us four against Thanos, surly we could handle it on our own.

Thor’s battle cry gained my attention and within seconds we were all fighting against Thanos.

Flames shot through my hands, blasting Thanos back against a large pile of debris, and once my feet touched down onto the dirt I cocked my head towards him. The urge to kill filled me to my core.

“You took everything from me,” I fumed.

Thanos stood, towering over me. “I don’t even know who you are.”

It was my turn to let out a deep chuckle.

“Trust me, you will.”

Raising my hands above me, I manipulated the flames making them grab a large piece of metal and threw it into Thanos’ face. A small trail of blood pooled from his forehead.

“All that for a drop of blood,” he mused.

“We’re just getting started,” I promised.

We were all fighting him again, Steve tossing me his shield every once in a while to get a few good shots with it. With my flames and Tony’s beams, we held him back so Thor could smack him far away from us with his hammer.

“So kid, any other new tricks you want to show us?” Tony jeered when we had a moment of peace.

“A few,” I gave a quick wink.

Moments passed, Thanos getting the upper hand on us, and with the three men scattered far away from me, I knew I was on my own until they could gain their strength once more.

My body flew through the air towards Thanos, however, he had caught my foot and yanked me down to the ground. He grounded my body with several punches to the face and stomach, the taste of copper pooling in my mouth. He raised his large double sword above me, inches away from my chest.

“What a pathetic excuse for a human life,” he spat.

Pupils dilated, I stared up at him with horrendous fear for my life. Thanos was seconds away from ending it all before I even knew if our mission had worked; if Bucky had come home.

“I didn’t train you to give up so easily.”

The cool metal from Thanos’ sword pressed deep into my stomach, causing a high pitched banshee scream to erupt from my throat. It did absolutely nothing to phase him.

Suddenly, he had been smacked away from me and I saw Thor’s hammer flying through the wind. Only it never reached Thor’s hand. It reached someone else entirely.

Steve stood proudly with his shield in one hand and Mjolnir in the other.

“What the fuck,” I cursed.

Thor’s voice came through our coms. “I knew it. I knew he was worthy.”

Winding up the hammer, Steve ran towards Thanos and connected with his face, sending Thanos flying hundred of feet behind us. With the quick break we had, Steve slowly helped me to my feet and winced at the open wound on my stomach.

“Doll,” he breathed.

“You guys wanted to see all my new tricks,” I pushed his fingers away from the wound on my stomach.

With flames from my left hand, I placed it over my wound and let out a large hiss as the fire cauterized the wound closed. Even with my super healing, it would have taken a long while for that wound to heal.

“Enough about me though,” I nodded towards the hammer in his hand. “When the fuck did that happen?”

Steve opened his mouth to speak, however a yell came out of mine when I felt Thanos atack me from behind, sending me far away from Steve. My body collided hard on top of a large rock and I slowly tried to sit up on my knees but the wind had been knocked out of me. The taste of blood still remained in my mouth and with a defeated groan, I rolled off of the rock onto the dirt. I could barely lift my head to finally look at Steve.

“No,” I wept with the sight that had just unfolded.

Thanos’ sword had done the unthinkable; it had broken Steve’s shield in half, pieces lying scattered around him. His body had been thrown closer to me by Thanos’ sword so I tried my best to crawl over towards him.

“C’mon, we have to get up,” I tried my best to cheer him on.

Our eyes locked and even though his blue iris shone with so much light, I knew he was scared. Steve was worried that this was the endgame; we wouldn’t be able to stop Thanos this time.

“What I’m about to do to your tiny little planet, I’m going to enjoy it very much,” Thanos vowed.

The sky opened above us, thousands of alien species stepping their way through their own makeshift portals.

Steve and I both helped each other to our feet, him tightening the what was left of the shield so it helped stop the bleeding on the open wound on his arm. The flames crackled to life once more at my fingertips as the two of us stood tall against Thanos’ army.

“All of my training led you to this doll. This is what you were meant to fight for.”

An annoyed sigh fell through my lips at the familiar voice speaking to my thoughts once more. Noticing the large rip in the left arm of my suit, I yanked it away, displaying my tattoo of the Soldat arm to anyone who chose to look at it.

“I love you Bucky, I really do, but now is not the time to hear your ghost voice in my head again,” I grumbled to myself.

“Who said anything about a ghost voice?”

“What?” I uttered.

“Hey cap, you read me?”

Steve and I both looked at one another, dumbfounded at the voice we both heard now on our coms.

“It’s Sam. On your left.”

Suddenly, hundreds of bright yellow circles appeared in the sky, sparking life around us. There was one circle, however, that we had our eyes trained hard on right in front of us. There was a sense of warmth, familiarity, and love that emanated from it. The type of love that I hadn’t felt in my veins in over five years.

A lone body stepped through while another flew over us and the reality smacked me hard in the face when I realized that Bucky’s voice wasn’t speaking to me in my mind like it had been all those times before. His soft voice had been coming through the com in my ear this entire fight.

Standing in front of me, in the same gear he had worn the last time I laid eyes on him, was the love of my life. The man that I had spent the last five years avenging and the man that I vowed to Natasha I would save.

“Bucky,” I breathed his name.

I wanted to believe that it was really him but also didn’t want to get my hopes up in case I was actually seeing his ghost again.

“I’ve missed you so much, dorogaya.” Bucky’s plump lips curled up into an eye crinkling smile.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #sebastian stan #bucky barnes and reader #the winter soldier #marvel #the winter soldier x reader #the winter soldier smut #bucky barnes x agent!reader #james barnes smut #james barnes imagine #james bucky barnes #james barnes #james buchanan barnes #soldat bucky barnes #vaz prizrak bucky barnes #dorogaya bucky barnes

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