#And then slowly coming towards each other

[earthchica]

I want you

terry richmond x black, fem! reader

summary: you and Terry are roommates who are sexually attracted to each other; you have a habit of stealing his shirts, and Terry doesn't mind, but eventually, he confronts you about it.

warnings: explicit smut (18+), dom/sub kinda, oral (f) fingering, unprotected counter/couch sex, size kink, roommates, nicknames (shorty, lil mama, baby, baby girl) & more. words: 2k

note: oddly enough, this is based on a dream I had; it's kind of short. also, I used the first line from @kumkaniudaku, "Askew," as inspiration for a line I used. I wanted to give credit; you did your thang, lol. Please enjoy and let me know your thoughts.

-

It was a lazy, cozy Wednesday when you found yourself in your roommate, Terry's bedroom, about to steal one of his shirts while he was in the shower.

You twisted your lip, quickly grabbing the shirt off the bed and putting it on. Since you were short, it was like a dress on you. Most of his shirts were, and honestly, you loved them like that.

His shirts made you feel comfortable and safe, and smelled like him. You wouldn't admit this out loud, but you wanted him so badly, plus there was so much sexual tension between you two.

You smiled happily, put your glasses back on, and skipped to the kitchen to make dinner for you both. After a few minutes, Terry came out of the shower and dried off.

He walked into his bedroom, about to get dressed in a t-shirt and sweatpants, but there was a problem. Where the hell did his shirt go?

"Bruh…what?" Terry huffed, looking everywhere for his shirt, and then his mind went to you, and he grew a smile. Terry grabbed another shirt from his dresser to put on and went to look for you.

Terry called your name, his voice echoing through the apartment. "Yeah?" You asked, keeping your breathing even while you were looking through the cabinets.

He paused at the kitchen doorframe, seeing you wearing his shirt confirmed his thought. Terry smirks, looking at his beautiful, petite, curvy roommate, swaying your hips to the music.

Terry loves seeing you wear his clothes; he always gets excited by the way your beautiful curves look in the shirt. He's developed a strong crush on you ever since you two became roommates.

Maybe this is his chance to make a move on you. "Earth to Terry?" You called his name, waving your hand in his face, and he blinked away from his daydreaming.

"Are you good?" you asked curiously, and he nodded with a slight chuckle, moving closer to you and crossing his arms in front of his chest.

"Yeah! Is that my shirt?" He asked, raising his eyebrows at you. You bite your lip and tilt your head, looking at him through your glasses.

"Yeah, maybe. Is that a problem?" you asked teasingly, and he bit his lip. Your heart started to race as his hands reaching the hem of his shirt, pulling you towards him.

"Not at all; you know when I see you wearing my shirt, it does things to me," He whispered intensely in your ear. You couldn't help but whimper.

The intense and lustful look in the eyes was sincere; Terry was a tall, sweet giant just towering over your plump, short self, making you go immediately into submissive.

“Tell me to stop! Tell me if you don't want this, and I will,” Terry said, slightly crouching to press his forehead against yours. You felt your breath hitch as he stared into your eyes.

“Don't stop, Terry! I want you so bad,” You whispered, feeling his hands slowly slide down to grope and massage your ass lightly. Terry's soft breathing was soothing.

He picked you up and sat you on the kitchen counter before pressing his lips against yours; you moaned and grabbed the back of his neck.

“Wait, wait. Are you clear?” You asked, pushing him slightly away to look at him. His eyes had darkened, and he said, “Yeah, I’m clear. Are you?"

"Yes!" You answered, and he nodded. "Good, come here." Terry began kissing the exposed part of your neck, leaving little love bites. Slowly, he pulled the shirt over your head.

The cold air causes your nipples to become erect. "Terry please!" You moaned as you felt his erect, throbbing dick through his sweatpants, poking at your leg.

“Mmmm..fuck girl. Where have you been hiding these beautiful tits?” Terry asked, going suck your breasts, squeezing and playing with them.

"P-please…I need you!" You moaned, stroking him through his sweatpants, causing him to curse low.

“How much do you need me, baby?" Terry asked, looking into your eyes with this curious look that made your pussy more wetter than before.

“I need you so bad. I think about you all the time, Terry. I sometimes finger myself, wishing you were doing it,” You confessed honestly.

“Mmm, me too baby. Whenever I see you in one of my shirts, just want to bend you over and fuck you,” Terry confessed as his large hands gripped your plump legs.

He spread them slightly more before he dipped down, took your panties off, and ran his middle finger up your slit to collect your juices.

You bit your lip, feeling your body slightly shaking with excitement and pleasure. Terry pushes two fingers inside you, grazing your g-spot; he begins to thrust his fingers fast before slowing down abruptly.

"Terry, don’t stop, please," You whined, realizing he stopped for a second. "Touch me, please…I need you!" You moaned, his body standing in front of you.

"Patience, shorty, I'm gonna just do that!" You bite your lip from smiling at his nickname for you as he leans to kiss you, gripping your long, curly 4a hair for a second.

You moaned, feeling his throbbing length press against your thigh again. "You're so damn stunning, you know." He spoke into your soft brown skin, kissing down to your core.

"Mmmm…wet for me, baby?" Terry asked, spreading your legs out a little before you could get a word out. His hot tongue met your pussy, pressing against you.

“Yes, yes, ahh, yes,” You moaned, feeling him lick and run his tongue up your folds, flicking your clit and moaning into your core; he sent vibrations up your body.

You throw your head back, resting it against the cabinet and gripping the back of his head. You cry his name as he goes faster and places your leg over his shoulder while practically making out with your pussy.

Terry pulls away and slaps your pussy, causing you to moan. “Look at me while I’m eating your pussy, baby; tell me how good I’m making you feel,” he says, looking at you with those eyes and going back in.

“Ahhh…fuck Terry, It feels so good; your tongue feels amazing,” You cried as you felt yourself getting closer and closer to the edge. "Fuck, T. I'm gonna-" You cried out as your orgasm hit you like a wave.

Your head started spinning as his thumb circled your clit, his eyes following each expression on your face like he was memorizing it. You pulled him up, bringing his lips to yours.

So you could taste yourself, and you could move your hand down, taking his shirt off, and feel up his abs, prompting a moan from him, which makes you moan as well.

You pulled down his sweatpants and boxers, and he took him off completely. You got a feel of his dick, knowing it must be big, but just looking at it now.

It was thick, lengthy, and ready for some release. You felt slightly unconfident that you weren't gonna be able to take it all. “It’s so big, I don’t know if I can take it.”

“You can take it, baby! I know you can; we’ll go slow,” Terry encouraged, settling between your legs and pulling you into a kiss, containing your moans as his dick slid up and down your wet folds.

“AHHHH!” You gasped, feeling him slide inside you, filling you slowly. "You good, baby?" He asked, cupping your cheek as you closed your eyes for a second.

"Yeah...it feel good...Terry, just move, please." You moaned, feeling yourself clench around him, and he pulled you in another kiss again, before breaking apart to moan.

"You feel so good and tight, shorty," Terry said, making his thrusts slowly, and you feel yourself adjusted to his size. "Faster, please," You asked.

“You want me to go faster?” he asked, and you nodded, “Yes, faster, Daddy!” Terry growled at you calling him Daddy, pulling you to kiss you, lifting you from the counter, and moving towards the couch.

“lil mama, If I go faster….imma fuck these glasses off your face. Are you sure?” He asked, laying you down in the corner of the couch before getting your answer.

“Yes, I want you to go faster and deeper, please.” You said with a smile, wrapping your legs around his waist and pulling him closer which made him grin.

"You drive me crazy," Terry said, taking his dick in his hand and sliding back into you, going faster and deeper. You grip onto his biceps, arching your back.

"Yes, just like that, ahh fuck me, oh my god. yes, this feels so good," You cried, slowly feeling your glasses coming off your face and dropping to your side.

"You like this, don't you, you like the way I'm fucking you?" He asked, and you nodded, crying out when he angled his hips and his pelvic bone slid across your clit. "Oh my god, Terry."

"Fuck, look at you. I told you you could take this dick; you gotta me feeling proud," Terry moaned, looking down at you, his voice deeper as he grunted with each thrust.

His lips are coming down to kiss your lips fast as his dick twitching inside of you. "Daddy, let me ride you," you begged as your nails dug into his arms.

"Shit! You wanna ride me, beautiful?" Terry asked, clutching at your waist. "Fuck yes, I do, please let me," You whimpered, and Terry chuckled at your desperation.

Terry groans softly as he pulls out of you and moves to sit in the middle of the couch. He leaned back against the couch, waiting for you, and you moved up, grabbed hold of his dick, and slid down slowly.

You bite your lip to keep from screaming, just loving how he filled you so perfectly; his dick was so throbbing with this new sex position; it just made your eyes roll back.

Terry looked at you in rapture, groaned, and threw his head back. You bit your lip, grabbed his shoulders, bounced up and down, and made yourself throw it back.

“Fuck, fuck, just like that. Goddamn, jiggled that ass on that dick,” Terry moaned, closing his eyes for a second before looking up at you, watching your breasts match the rhythm of your riding.

"Oh fuck, I always imagine it being good, but I think it’s much more than that; it’s incredible, Terry!" You said, feeling him grabbing your ass cheeks with his hands.

You continued to bounce up and down his dick while holding the back of the couch. Terry pushed your arms to the side and slightly lowered himself before wrapping his arms around your back, going full beast mode.

You let out a loud chant of moans, feeling yourself get close to the edge. "Are you about to cum, baby?" Terry asked, giving your ass cheek smack.

You cried in response, happy tears coming from your face, and you have never had a man make you feel this fucking good ever in your life.

“Ahh yes…yes fuck me, fuck me through it, Daddy,” You cried, loudly going to bury your face into his neck. His hips smacked against your ass fast,

The sound of slapping skin was louder than any sound you'd made yet, and you felt the knot form in the pit of your stomach. You pulled back to look at Terry's face.

“Fuck, baby….shit this pussy” Terry moans as his dick twitches and swells deep inside you. You reached your high with a loud moan of his name. "AHH TERRY!!!!!!!"

Your inner walls clenched tightly around his dick as Terry reached his own a few seconds later, his body giving into the blissful pleasure while he pulled out and released himself.

He was panting heavily, his arms still tightly wrapped around your waist as his head rested against the couch. His breathing hit your brown skin, tingling it a little bit and the room fell silent.

The two of you finally calmed down from your intense orgasms. “Damn, that was fucking special!" Terry breaks the silence with a laugh.

“Yeah, it was, " you replied, feeling awkward and shy. You didn't know what to do after, so you quickly grabbed your glasses and moved off of him to put them on.

You tried to cover yourself up, but Terry stopped you. "Hey…don't get like that. There's no need to be shy now, especially after what we just did"

"I'm not being shy. I'm good. This was nice, um…I'm gonna go take a shower,” you said, not letting Terry say a word before dashing to your bedroom and leaving him dumbfounded.

You closed your door and leaned your head against it, feeling stupid for being weird like that, but it was for your own good; you knew you couldn’t let it happen again.

part 2?

[casscainmainly]

The Evolution of Cassandra Cain's Dialogue

Since Batgirl #1 is out and thriving, I thought it'd be fun to dive into the history of Cass' dialogue throughout different writers/runs. This is not comprehensive - I'll miss some writers, but I'll be covering her generally most known runs in mainline continuity (so no DCeased, Shadow of the Batgirl, etc.). Not a linguist by any means, so linguists on here feel free to chime in! (I'll also give opinions on which interpretations I personally prefer at the end).

Without further ado, we'll start at the beginning:

Kelley Puckett - Batgirl (2000)

Pre-issue 4, Cass speaks minimally in one-word sentences and doesn't have internal narration. Post-issue 4 (when a metahuman changes Cass' brain), she develops an internal monologue and begins to speak longer sentences. I'm splitting Puckett's Cass dialogue into 3 stages: early, middle, and late.

Early (#4 - #12): Cass speaks short, fragmented sentences. Each word has an ellipses between them (panel 1 above, from #7).

Middle (#13 - #24): Cass continues to speak incomplete sentences (often missing a subject or pronouns), but without ellipses (panel 2, from #13).

Late (#25 onwards): Cass begins to speak complete, simple sentences, punctuated by a few ellipses (panel 3, from #33). She continues to speak grammatically (though slowly) throughout the final part of Puckett's run.

Dylan Horrocks - Batgirl (2000)

Horrocks writes very similarly to late-Puckett, with Cass speaking in full, simple sentences, punctuated by the occasional ellipses. Horrocks introduces two new elements to her dialogue:

Cass stutters, sometimes repeating a word or phrase at the beginning of a sentence (panel 1 above, from #39). This is mostly used in the earlier parts of Horrocks' run.

She quotes reality TV (panel 2, from #51).

Maybe because of the reality TV, Cass also speaks more colloquially here than in Puckett's run, using phrases like "come 'n' get it" (from #57).

Andersen Gabrych - Batgirl (2000)

Gabrych's run focuses heavily on Cass' dialogue. Panel 1 above, from #58, suggests her narration boxes are another form of dialogue - Cass is speaking into a recorder. Several features of Gabrych's Cass dialogue are:

Ellipses: Even more than his predecessors, Gabrych scatters ellipses throughout Cass' speech (panel 1).

Fillers: Cass extensively uses filler words such as 'uh', 'um', and 'like' (panel 1, panel 2 from #61).

Longer sentences: Cass is more talkative and speaks longer sentences (panel 1, which is basically more words per panel than Puckett and Horrocks combined).

Wordplay: Cass often ponders definitions and word structures (panel 1, 2).

Adam Beechen - Batgirl (2008)

After evil Cass (that dialogue is not worth discussing), Beechen gets another chance with Cass in this miniseries. More than any other writer, Beechen differentiates Cass' internal monologue from her dialogue - her narration boxes are much wordier than her speech.

Her dialogue is a more loquacious version of late-Puckett or Horrocks: full sentences interspersed with ellipses (panel 1, from #1). The ellipses drop off towards the end of the series.

Her narration boxes use a variety of sentence structures and vocabulary. They read more or less as fluent English (panel 2, from #4).

Scott Snyder - Gates of Gotham (2011)

Snyder's Cass somewhat resembles mid-Puckett, using short sentences without ellipses (panel 1, from #2). She speaks a fair amount, but is more taciturn here than in any previous run. This is partially due to her not having narration boxes.

A unique feature of Snyder's Cass is preferring formal to informal speech. Though she uses contractions (panel 1), she goes large stretches without them (panel 2, from #3). She also omits the subject of a sentence only once in 5 issues, whereas native speakers (like Dick) drop the subject all the time ('have you ever been to Paris?' vs. 'ever been to Paris?'; Snyder's Cass would always say the former instead of the latter).

Sidenote: Batman & Robin: Eternal (2015)

Quick note about B&R:E: Cass is reintroduced into canon after being erased by the New 52, which means she's back to having very limited language ability. The series is scripted by multiple people, so it's hard to analyse. Suffice it to say she speaks in monosyllabic words, at most a short, incomplete sentence, but is mostly silent.

James Tynion IV - Detective Comics (2016)

Because Cass' language ability has been reset, Tynion develops her speech along the lines of Batgirl (2000).

Early Tynion has Cass speaking single word sentences (panel 1, from #938). Very similar to pre-metahuman touch Cass in BG (2000).

During the League of Shadows arc, Cass begins to speak a few words at a time, often separated by an ellipsis (panel 2, from #956).

Afterwards, Cass' friendship with Basil Karlo blossoms, leading to this run's most distinctive language feature - Cass improves her speech via studying and quoting Shakespeare (panel 3, from #958). Her improvement is reflected in the rest of the run through speaking longer and more frequent sentences.

Bryan Hill - Batman & The Outsiders (2019)

Like other writers, Hill's Cass generally uses short, simple sentences. She frequently drops the subject or pronoun in a sentence (panel 1, from #1). Hill doesn't use ellipses to separate the sentences, opting for periods most of the time.

Cass sometimes omits other words from her sentences too, dropping articles like 'a' and 'the' (panel 2, from #4), prepositions like 'to', and verbs like 'is' (panel 3, from #9). This peters out in the second half of the run.

Becky Cloonan and Michael W. Conrad - Batgirls (2022)

Similar to mid-Puckett, Batgirls has Cass speak mostly in short, 1-2 word sentences (panel 1, from #2). Cloonan and Conrad occasionally use ellipses as well, though mostly for emphasis/natural hesitation rather than indicating a unique speech pattern (panel 2, from #7).

Cass also has a habit of repeating/echoing a phrase Stephanie says (panel 3, from #16). This might be more of a friendship thing than a speech thing, though.

Alyssa Wong - Spirit World (2023)

Wong's Cass uses short sentences sometimes interrupted by ellipses, like late-Puckett and Horrocks (panel 1, from #1). Generally, if the sentence is three words or less, there won't be an ellipsis (panel 2, from #5).

Kelly Thompson - Birds of Prey (2023)

Thompson's Cass draws on a lot of previous iterations, but is somewhat unique as a whole. Some elements of BoP Cass include:

She speaks in sentences of varying lengths, but rarely with more than one clause (panel 1, from #1). Thompson is more strict about not using commas with Cass than most other writers.

Cass is a little more talkative (panel 2, from #5). Her sentences are fairly lengthy compared to most other runs, and she doesn't always opt for the shortest way to say things ('where is it?' instead of 'do you know where it is?'). Thompson also doesn't use ellipses, which adds to the sentences feeling longer/more complete.

BoP is ongoing so Thompson may add more to her speech.

Sidenote: Ram V - Detective Comics (2023)

Putting this in a sidenote since there's not much to say, but Ram V takes after mid-Puckett, with Cass using shorter, incomplete sentences. Cass almost always omits the subject of a sentence; her dialogue is as short as possible while retaining clarity.

Thoughts

Because Cass' language disability is a core part of her character, but learning to speak is also a core part of her character, I prefer writers who emphasize her unique speech patterns without reducing her range of expression. My favourites are:

Gabrych - by far the person who put the most effort into his dialogue, Gabrych-Cass has such a vibrant, distinctive style of speaking. The narration boxes, Cass' wordplay, and the use of fillers and ellipses all combine for a speech style that highlights her disability without reducing her to it.

Puckett/Horrocks - combining because they are really very similar. Puckett and Horrocks both use ellipses to great effect, and is a great style to emulate for Cass in an earlier stage of life. Horrocks' use of reality TV is severely underutilised. Puckett, of course, is the gold standard for typical Cass dialogue - if Gabrych's style is a little too much, Puckett and Horrocks are the way to go.

Tynion - mostly because of the Shakespeare thing. It's such a beautiful and clever way of showing her progress, and the amount of symbolism you could do with Cass quoting Shakespeare is unmatched.

I don't super enjoy the more talkative Casses (Beechen, Thompson to an extent), though I kind of like Snyder's take because there's a sense of Cass being very careful with her speech there. If you're writing Cass for a fanfic or something, I would avoid Hill's Outsiders; the run is great, but Cass' ungrammatical speech is unusual and doesn't jibe with the rest of her depictions. Ram V and Wong are relatively good depictions to draw from though.

Of course these are my opinions! I may have gotten some things wrong/overgeneralised stuff, so take all this with a grain of salt. All you need to know is you should read Batgirl (2000) :).

[woodywood101blog]

Experimental: 34 Weeks, Part 2

Once they got home, Yazan immediately changed out of his clothes and got into some more comfortable attire. He was dreading the day it would happen, but Yazan finally bit the bullet and put on a bra to try and soak up the leakage. He looked at himself in the mirror and sighed.

“This is beyond insane. Isn’t that right, babies?” He rubbed his belly and felt them react fairly strongly. “Yeah, that’s right.”

He waddled out into the living room where Randy was wiping down the benches. Randy looked up and saw Yazan in a white bra and small green shorts.

“Wow…” Randy’s jaw dropped. “You really are knocked up!”

“Thanks, Randy, I feel it too.” Yazan slowly moved towards the sofa and sat down. He sighed as he lifted his legs to lay on his side on the sofa.

“Hey, I didn’t mean it like that, Yaz! You’re looking… glowing! You’re bringing new life to this world - isn’t that amazing?”

“It would be if I didn’t look so fucking disgusting doing it!”

Randy walked towards the sofa where Yazan started to cry. “Hey, stop that! You are perfectly fine.” Randy grabbed some tissues nearby so Yazan could dab away the tears. “This is all a crazy experience, I get that, but you are so strong. You’re doing what no other man has done before, four times over!”

Yazan chuckled, realising he said the same thing to Mike.

“So, just breathe and relax. We don’t want the babies to worry, because that will be more uncomfortable, alright?”

“Alright, Randy…” Yazan smiled briefly at Randy to try and put him at ease. They looked at each other with a sense of calm.

“I think…” Randy started saying but then stopped himself.

“What? Is everything alright, Randy?”

“I just… ah, fuck it!” Randy turned and kissed Yazan on the lips. At first, Yazan’s eyes bulged at the sudden move by Randy but slowly moaned as their tongues touched.

Randy moved back and looked at the glossy-eyed Yazan. “Wow…” Yazan replied.

Randy immediately leapt back towards Yazan and they kissed more aggressively. Yazan started pulling off Randy’s shirt, exposing his tight 6-pack abs and thick pecs. Randy started pulling off Yazan’s bra, letting his newly-formed breasts hang loose.

Yazan looked down and groaned in disgust, but Randy saw the opportunity. He moved down towards one of Yazan’s nipples and started sucking it. Yazan felt some pressure build up around his chest, but then felt a wave of pleasure as Randy continued sucking and getting more colostrum out of his breast.

“Please…” Yazan gasped. “So… good!”

Randy looked up and saw Yazan’s eyes roll with pleasure as he moved across to the other nipple and started sucking. Yazan moaned even more as the pressure gave way to pleasure, with Randy also moaning as he swallowed the colostrum.

“You’re a good man, Randy! Thank you..” Yazan moaned.

“Who said I was done milking you?” Randy said with a devilish grin. At that moment, Randy moved his way down Yazan’s body, pecking at Yazan’s sensitive belly button. Yazan could feel his dick getting hard from Randy’s touch and kisses, and was rock hard by the time Randy started pulling down Yazan’s shorts. Yazan moaned as he moved his butt upwards to allow Randy to pull the shorts completely off, with Yazan’s dick slapping the base of his belly. His babies kicked the prostate in response, causing Yazan to moan even more as he felt precum leaking out of him.

“You’re so hot, Yaz!” Randy spat on the tip of Yazan’s dick and in one quick movement swallowed Yazan’s dick. Yazan moaned louder as Randy got to work on his dick. He couldn’t actually see what Randy was doing, with the babies in the way, but Yazan felt a surreal vibration permeate across his whole body. He felt himself developing a hot flush rapidly, moaning each time Randy sucked all the way down to the base of his dick. Yazan started tugging at his breasts that were leaking profusely. He started feeling overwhelmed with all the sensations, and felt it come to a climax as he came. He had not been able to jack off in months, as he struggled to reach his dick, so he had quite a lot of pent-up cum, which Randy swallowed completely.

As they caught their breaths, Randy moved back up towards Yazan and slowly kissed him on the neck and cheek. “That was hot, Yaz.”

“I see…”

“What?”

“Of course you weren’t going to find a girl.”

“I guess I was just waiting for the right moment… and you becoming a woman was the moment!” Yazan laughed and lightly slapped Randy on the shoulder. They laid down next to each other on the sofa as they hugged and continued kissing.

After a while, Yazan whispered to Randy, “I want you to fuck me.”

“Really?”

“Yes” Yazan raspily replied. Randy felt a wave of pleasure build as he moaned and kissed Yazan more intensely. He helped Yazan stand up from the sofa. Yazan led the way to the bedroom, with Randy holding onto Yazan’s waist and slowly kissing Yazan’s shoulders and neck.

Once in the bedroom, Yazan turned around and started trying to kneel.

“Yaz, what are you doing?” Randy chuckled.

“I… want to return the favour.” Yaz groaned.

“Yaz… babe, don’t worry. Let me look after you.” Randy helped Yazan get back up on his feet and pecked Yazan on the cheek. “We can try that again once these four are out of here. Instead, I want to fuck you.”

“Yes, Randy!” Yazan moaned sensually as he slowly got onto the bed. Randy let Yazan find a position most comfortable for him, which seemed to be on his hands and knees. Yazan let the belly graze the bed and his breasts droop downwards, dripping liquid. “Ready…”

Randy felt a fire light up in him as he started slowly licking and kissing Yazan’s ass and hole. He noticed that it had an unusually strong taste, almost akin to… 

“Were you preparing yourself, Yaz?”

“No, I can’t reach my asshole, so I can’t douche. Why?”

“Because.. Your ass tastes like pussy.”

“Ohhh…” Yazan groaned as he realised what was happening. He felt himself become more flustered and aroused as Randy kept flicking his tongue deeper into his ass. Should he instead call it a manpussy? Regardless, it became clear to Yazan that his asshole was preparing to push the babies out of him, and it caused all his nerve endings to become as sensitive as a woman’s. It made every single sensation increase tenfold with every kiss, suck and lick from Randy. He shivered in anticipation.

“Please, Randy…. Fuck me!” Yazan moaned.

“You sure you’re ready, babe?”

“Yes!!!”

Randy pulled down his pants to reveal his rock hard 10-inch dick. Yazan looked briefly behind and saw Randy’s fiery eyes stare intensely at his ass. He saw him spit into his hand and rubbed it over his dick. “Alright, Yaz…”

Randy slowly pushed his dick into the entrance of Yazan’s asshole and moaned at how tight yet plushy it felt. Yazan moaned incredibly loudly at the new filling sensation, as he felt Randy’s long and thick dick slide deeper into his ass.

It truly feels like a pussy, Randy thought as he picked up the pace and pushed his whole dick into the hole. It slid so easily in and out, with their symphony of moans and groans becoming one. They felt like two horny teenagers going at it for the first time, not caring at all whether the neighbours could hear. They wanted the world to know that Randy was fucking Yazan and that his manpussy was making it so much better.

Randy leant down to rest on top of Yazan’s back while pummeling in and out of his ass. Yazan continually moaned as he felt the dick push higher in his ass.

“Babe, I’m going to cum.” Yazan screamed.

“Cum for me, babe!” Randy groaned.

Yazan moaned in a higher pitch as he came all over the bed under him and also felt his breasts leak even more colostrum out. He continued to moan as Randy kept going, pushing as deep as he could into Yazan’s ass.

Randy started moaning higher, “Babe, it’s my turn to cum!”

“Oh yeah? Breed me, Randy!”

And with a loud scream, Randy pushed as much of his seed into Yazan’s ass as he could. Yazan sighed as he felt the seed push deep into his manpussy. He couldn’t believe how intense, yet amazing it was.

As they both laid down on the bed, staring deeply into each other's eyes, Yazan whispered, “I feel like I could go again, Randy…”

“Really?!”

***

Mike was sitting in his office looking through the last couple of results from Yazan’s blood and urine tests. He noticed Yazan constantly complaining about headaches in the written observations from Anna and Randy, and the babies were starting to slow down in their movements. At first, he assumed it was just because they were running out of room, and that labour was imminent. However, on closer inspection of the results, he saw a downward trend of oestrogen and progesterone, and an increase in testosterone within Yazan’s blood.

“No… it can’t be.”

Yazan’s body was starting to reject the pregnancy.

[y3sterdaysproblem]

smoke and mirrors - chris sturniolo

chapter seven

summary: your best friend Matt backs out of plans you had made together, so you replace him with his brother. the only problem is the two of you can’t stand each other.

{enemies to lovers, fake dating}

includes : explicit language, fluff, smut(penetration, oral, fingering, etc.), angst if you squint, lots of bickering, slow burn

wc: 3.8k

It’s been a long time since you’ve woken up next to somebody, apart from a friend after spending the night, or even Matt, as you’d spent many nights in his bed, but you’d never woken up touching him, always staying at opposite sides of the bed, so it was definitely out of the ordinary when your eyes fluttered open and landed on a figure next to you.

It took you a moment to clear your head and remember where you were, focusing on the way your body was chest to chest with another, arms wrapped loosely around you and holding you close, your own arm draped over his waist. It didn’t take you long to register that it was Chris’s soft breaths coming from above you where your face was pressed into his chest.

You couldn’t help but smile to yourself, but it didn’t last long when you finally processed the pounding in your head, causing you to groan quietly. “Fuck…” you mumble, pulling away from Chris to roll onto your back, trying not to jostle him too much, but you were unsuccessful, Chris’s hand reaching forward to rest on your stomach, thumb starting to brush over the skin softly.

“I don’t wanna open my eyes,” Chris grumbles, sliding his hand to your waist to pull you back into him, you still laying on your back. His cheek came to rest on your shoulder and you brought your hand up to caress his arm strewn across you.

“Don’t do it, bad idea,” you tell him, turning your head to look at his face for the first time. His hair was sticking up in every direction, though it still looked adorable, and he even had a small white line coming from his mouth and over his cheek, making you giggle quietly. “You drool in your sleep?”

Chris finally peeks one eye open, glaring at you. “I didn’t say anything about you drooling last night.”

Your mouth falls open, cheeks turning red at his words. “Don’t be crude,” you tell him quietly. “I’m never having sex with you again.”

Chris closes his eye again, smirking. “Yeah, right. That was the best sex of your life. Good luck getting over it.”

You pout and turn your body back towards Chris, swinging your leg over his hip. His hand immediately and almost habitually lands on your thigh, rubbing the skin up and down in a comforting manner. “My head hurts, Chris. Can you go buy me tylenol from downstairs?”

Chris groans, leaning in closer to tuck his face in your neck, gently pressing his lips to the front of your throat. “Don’t wanna get outta bed yet,” he tells you, muffled by your skin. “I know what can help with a headache.”

His hand slides up your hip, over your waist, and then comes forward, trailing over your stomach, causing goosebumps to arise. “What are you doing?” You whisper.

Chris slips his hand between your legs and runs his fingers through your folds, causing your breath to hitch in your throat. “I’m helping you with your headache,” he says, smile evident in his voice. He nuzzles his head in a little further and parts his lips to start sucking a mark into your skin.

“Chris, hickeys are so-,” your words are cut off by a small gasp, eyes fluttering shut as his middle fingers dip inside you, still slightly wet from last night. “Trashy,” you finish, breathless.

Chris hums, fingers working slowly inside of you. “Stop me then,” he tells you, knowing you wouldn’t.

You huff, and despite your words you tilt your head for Chris to have better access to your neck, letting him continue to pepper your neck with kisses and purple marks.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of you,” Chris tells you, pulling his face back. You open your eyes and look at him, eyebrows furrowed in pleasure. He just smiled at your expression and leaned forward, pressing your lips together firmly but still softly, slipping his fingers out of you to circle your clit, causing a moan to slip through your nose, your leg wrapped around Chris trying to pull him closer.

“Need you,” you mumble against his mouth, sliding your arm around his torso, then turning your body onto your back, pulling him with you so he was hovering above you. “Please?”

Chris pulled away from the kiss and smiled down at you, bringing his hands up to rest on either side of your head. “How could I say no when you ask so nicely?”

You smile up at him shyly, the newfound dynamic between you both still making you nervous. You guys had almost never made eye contact with each other before, barely even speaking to one another unless it was to shoot an insult towards the other, and to go from that to this was such a stark difference and it made you feel even more vulnerable and naked in front of him. However, you didn’t feel insecure. If anything, you’ve never felt more comfortable with someone in this position. You felt safe, cared for. The way his eyes locked onto yours from above you made you feel like he saw you in a way no one else ever had before. It was terrifying and exhilarating all at the same time.

Your legs spread for Chris to rest between, your hand coming down to stroke him a few times, causing him to let out a quiet moan, arms tensing on either side of you. “Don’t be gun shy now, baby,” you tell him, wrapping your legs around him and pulling him closer.

Chris chuckles slightly, shaking his head. “Not gun shy, just tryna not bust the second I put it in.”

You laugh, using the tips of your fingers to guide his dick towards your entrance. “You have the vocabulary of a twelve year old.”

Chris grimaces, staying still. “Can you not compare me to a twelve year old right now?”

You only laugh harder, throwing your head back into the pillow. “If you just fuck me I’ll shut up!”

Chris groans, knowing this isn’t going to end well for him. “I pride myself on how long I last so forgive me for not wanting to finish as soon as we start.”

You roll your eyes, staring up at him where he looked down at you, his eyebrows raised in a ‘duh’ expression. “Yeah but now you’re fucking the girl you’ve dreamed of fucking for years so I think it’s acceptable if you finish fast. C’mon, I neeeed it.” You draw out your words in a whiny tone, trying to pull him in again with your legs.

You’re still giggling when Chris finally pushes inside of you, bottoming out in one go, making you gasp, mood switching instantly. “Fuck, Chris,” you breathe, reaching up to grab his shoulders.

“Now stop running your mouth and shut the fuck up, please,” Chris demands, pulling out slowly and pushing back in just as slow, trying to make sure he lasts as long as possible.

“Y-yes, daddy,” you say in a teasing tone, biting your lip and staring up at Chris with an almost innocent look in your eyes.

Fuck, Chris thinks.

His jaw drops as his hips stutter inside you, his cheeks blushing a deep red.

Your eyes widen and a shit eating grin graces your face, pushing your elbows underneath you to prop yourself up.

“No,” you start in an accusing tone.

“I’m sorry,” Chris replies. “It’s not what you think-“

“I think it’s exactly what I think.”

“It’s not-!”

“A daddy kink?”

“No!”

“You just came the second I called you daddy.”

“I told you I wasn’t going to last!”

You squeal out a laugh, pressing your lips into Chris’s cheek. “You are a dirty, dirty boy, Christopher Owen. Filthy.”

Chris groans and pulls out of you, pushing you down on the bed harshly. “You talk too fucking much, has anyone ever told you that?”

You bounce on the bed slightly as he shoves you, still looking up at him even though he wouldn’t meet your eyes. “A few times, mostly you I think.”

“Yeah, well. You do. You’d really benefit from shutting the fuck up sometimes.” Chris tells you, slowly scooting down the bed.

You were happy to see that the teasing hadn’t completely disappeared, it just had a sweeter undertone to it now, knowing you guys weren’t actually trying to hurt each others’ feelings. “Weren’t telling me to be quiet last night,” you retort sassily.

“I actually liked the shit coming out of your mouth last night,” Chris tells you, lowering himself onto his stomach in between your legs. His mouth latched onto your thigh, kissing softly. “‘Chris, don’t stop, Chris, I’m so close, Chris, you’re so big, mmm, Chris, I’m squirting everywhere’.” He mocked you in a high-pitched voice, placing kisses on your thigh between every sentence.

You pout and look down at him to see him smirking back at you, his arms wrapped around your thighs. “Hey,” you whine. “I was embarrassed, that’s never happened with somebody before.”

He just smiles and dips his head down, watching his own release dripping out of you slowly. “And it’ll never happen with anyone else. Only me, right? This pussy’s all mine.” He dips down and finally attaches his lips to your entrance, groaning at the taste that he already missed so badly.

You moan and drop your head back into the pillow, bringing your hand up to tangle in his messy hair, fingernails scratching at his scalp thoughtfully. “All yours,” you sigh, lightly grinding your hips into his mouth. “That’s.. fuck, that feels so good, you eat me so well.” You praise.

Chris just hums against your clit, making you moan even louder, knowing it’s not going to take you long to finish if he kept this up. “Can I have your fingers, too? Please?”

Chris knew he’d probably never be able to say no to you again in his life, not when you sounded so good asking so nicely, so he squeezed your thigh with his right hand before snaking it around and towards your entrance, easily slipping two fingers back inside you, making you arch your back into him, moans growing louder.

“Right there, fuck, I’m so close,” you whine, head pushing back into the pillow and hips pressing down harder into him, your jaw going slack and breath catching in your throat as you came, fingers grasping Chris’s hair and thighs shaking around his head.

He continued to work his tongue and lips on your clit as you came, fingers fucking you through your orgasm. You finally let out the breath you were holding after a few moments, using your hand to push Chris’s head away from you, making him laugh. “You okay?” He asks, stilling his fingers inside you.

You nod and clamp your legs shut, whimpering quietly. “Done,” you say simply, and he pulls his fingers out of you, wiping them on the bed sheets.

He crawls back up to your face and places a kiss on your nose, meeting your eyes as you tried to catch your breath. “You are so fucking sexy, you know that?”

You shake your head in disagreement, looking away from Chris, embarrassed. He was having none of that, though. He reached up and grabbed your jaw, forcing your eyes back to his. “I’m serious. To me, you are the sexiest woman I’ve ever laid eyes on. I’ll tell you that shit every day until you believe me. I’ll eat you out, fuck you, touch you, anywhere you want, just so you know.”

You smile meekly, appreciating the sentiment. “Thanks,” you whisper. Chris nods and squeezes your cheeks together to pout out your lips, leaning down to kiss them softly.

“How’s your head?” He asks when he pulls away, making you laugh.

“Never had any complaints,” you say, giggling through your words, making Chris drop his head between his shoulders, muttering a quiet ‘oh my fucking god’ under his breath. “Good, actually. I just really want a cheeseburger now.” You say honestly, making Chris laugh.

“Alright, well, get up and get dressed and I’ll buy you as many cheeseburgers as you want.” Chris climbs out of bed and starts rummaging through the room to find your guys’ discarded clothes strewn around the hotel room.

-

You parked your car outside the triplets’ house, turning your head to smile at Chris, who pouted back at you. “Do you have to go home?” He asks, sounding like a little kid who didn’t get their way.

You laugh at the tone of his voice. “Yeah, I desperately need to shower and take off my makeup. Plus, my hair’s a mess, I stink, and I’m covered in hickeys. I need to put makeup on these before I come over otherwise they’re going to know.”

Chris groaned and leaned over the center console, placing his right hand on your thigh covered by your dress from last night, sliding his hand up underneath the fabric. “You could shower with me,” he tells you, leaning into you and pressing his lips to your shoulder. “Let them find out, who cares?”

You grab Chris’s wrist and push it away, making him pull his face away as well. “I care,” you say sternly. “I don’t want to just tell them we’re fucking, I want to have a real conversation with you about what we’re doing first. What if you decide you don’t want me and go back to being a dick? Then it’ll have been a waste to tell them and now it’s awkward between everybody.”

Chris furrows his eyebrows as you speak, feeling slightly offended. “I want you,” he starts, voice serious. “I’m never going to not want you and it’s not just fucking to me. So if you need time that’s okay but don’t ever think that I don’t want you because I do.”

You let out a small breath of relief and nod, smiling shyly at Chris. “Okay,” you whisper. “I still want to wait, especially to tell Matt. He deserves more than just me looking a mess to tell him I slept with his little brother.”

Chris rolls his eyes, annoyed. “I am not his little brother, he just came out first.”

“Which makes him older.”

“Does not.”

“Definitely does.”

“Does not!”

“You sure sound like an annoying little brother right now,” you tell Chris, eyebrows raised. He huffs and sits back in his seat, crossing his arms.

“You’re annoying,” he mumbles, staring straight ahead.

“Yeah, whatever. Go inside so I can shower please, I feel disgusting.” Your eyes rake over your body, trying to not focus on the way the bottoms of your feet were dirty from not wearing your heels, or how your underwear were thrown in the backseat, leaving you completely naked under this dress.

Chris wipes off his grumpy pout and looks back at you. “Can you come over later? I can sneak you in through the door in my room and we can watch a movie or something. We obviously don’t have to have sex I just really want to see you.”

You feel your ears start to heat up at his words, feeling giddy at the fact that he really did want to see you and spend time together. You couldn’t really fully believe this was happening, but you weren’t complaining at all. You nod your head, a closed mouth smile blooming on your lips.

“Great,” Chris smiles, leaning over to plant a kiss on your lips, hand reaching up to rest on your cheek. “Let me know when you’re home. I’ll text you once my brothers go to their rooms and you can spend the night.”

You kiss Chris one more time, leaning into him gently. “Okay,” you tell him once you’ve pulled away. “I’ll see you later.”

Chris nods in agreement and lets himself out of the car, waving at you from the doorway before it shuts and he disappears.

You stare at the door for a few moments before turning back to stare at your steering wheel, a small, excited giggle leaving your lips as you process everything that has happened over the last twelve hours, finding it a bit hard to believe.

Your phone pings from where it sat in your cup holder, ripping you from your thoughts. You grab it and look at the lockscreen, laughing loudly when you read the message.

from: chris sturns

‘i miss you’

-

It’s dark out now, but you weren’t super tired as you took a pretty long nap after your shower, still a little hungover despite your efforts to kick it, however now that you’d slept you feel like a new person.

You were sat on your couch snuggled up under a blanket when you got a text, and it didn’t take a genius to guess who it was from.

‘come over’

You giggle when you read it, starting to type back.

from: you

‘you come here, i’m comfy’

from: chris sturns

‘i don’t have a car’

from: you

‘that’s never stopped you before’

The messages stopped there and you assumed maybe Chris had given in and ordered an uber to come over, but when ten minutes had passed, fifteen even, and you hadn’t heard from him, you think maybe he just didn’t want to argue and gave up.

You don’t think much of it, not really minding whether he came over or not, but the sound of your bell ringing startles you, heart picking up pace slightly. You throw your large blanket off of you and stand up, walking quickly to your front door.

You’re shocked when you pull it open and see an out of breath Chris standing there, bracing himself on the doorframe as he heaved. “Chris?!” You squeal. “Why are you breathing like that? Why are you… damp?”

Chris swallows thickly, meeting your eyes. “I… ran,” he chokes out. “Thought I was still… in shape… I’m not.”

You laugh loudly, reaching out to grab his arm and pull him inside. “Why did you run?!”

Chris kicks his shoes off, still trying to catch his breath. “I didn’t want to wait for an uber and I couldn’t ask Matt. I thought you were way closer. Never doing that again.”

“You’re so dumb, Chris, now you’re all sweaty and gross!” You tell him, walking back to the couch and sitting down, legs crossed.

“‘M not that sweaty, it’ll go away.” Chris sits next to you and reaches out for you, which you happily respond to, swinging over to straddle his lap, smiling down at him.

“I missed you,” he tells you, head leaning on the back of the couch as he looks at you, hands rubbing over the tops of your thighs.

“I missed you, too,” you coo, one hand threading through his hair sweetly. “It’s so weird to hear you be so nice to me. Feel like I entered an alternate reality or something.”

Chris chuckles. “I have a lot of time to make up so get used to it.”

You hum and lean down, pressing your lips to Chris’s gently, feeling your body relax into him as you kissed, like you’ve been waiting all day to feel his touch again.

The kiss stayed sweet and tender, your lips moving together slowly as his hands trailed over your body, pulling you impossibly closer to him.

Chris pulls away first, licking his lips as his eyes reopened and landed on your face. “Wanna watch a movie? I could order us some food.”

You nod your head eagerly. “Haven’t eaten since earlier, that sounds good.”

Which is exactly what led to you and Chris sitting on your bed with a large towel laid out in front of you guys, way too much food splayed out on top of it, and a movie playing on your tv that was mounted on the wall.

“We are not going to finish this,” you garble, mouth full of fries.

Chris laughs at you and covers his mouth, looking at you where you sat next to him, a smile on your face despite the fact that you were chewing. “Gross, dude, close your mouth.”

You only laugh more, reaching out to shove his shoulder. “Fuck you.”

Chris smirks, reaching his hand out to cup over your clothed core, causing you to squeal in shock. “Later,” he says, kissing your cheek. “That’s what the towel’s for, right? Gonna show me your party trick again?”

Your eyes widen and your jaw drops. “No! No party trick! How bout I tell your brothers about your party trick?”

Chris laughs, shrugging his shoulders in confusion. “What’s my party trick?”

“The one where you bust as soon as a girl says daddy.” You say, deadpan.

Chris rolls his eyes. “It’s not because a girl called me daddy, that’s happened plenty of times, it’s because you called me daddy and I already told you I wasn’t gonna last. You’re too sexy for me, I don’t know what to tell you!”

“Yeah, yeah, that’s what they all say,” you groan, stuffing more fries in your mouth. “Hey, did you turn your location off?” You ask, remembering that his brothers had both of your locations on and if they saw he was here, they’d find you two out immediately.

Chris hums, pulling his phone out and showing you the back where you saw it was an older, purple model. “Left it at home, brought my work phone. If they check they’re just gonna see that I’m at home.”

You nod your head, signaling how impressed you were. “Alright, I see you. Little liar.”

Chris drops his phone back on the bed, turning to you. “Nuh uh, you are the liar. I wanted to tell them.”

“Doesn’t make me a liar!” You wail, pouting in annoyance. “I just… wanna figure out what this is first, is that so wrong?”

Chris puts all of his food down and sighs, maneuvering his body so he was facing you, hands in his lap. “I told you already. I want you, in whatever capacity you’ll let me have you. If you just want to sleep together, I can deal with that. If you want to be together, I’d fucking love that.”

You stare up at Chris, eyes searching his to see if you saw any hesitation behind them, any embellishment to the truth, but all you could see was sincerity.

“We don’t have to label this but I just want you to know where I stand. I’m not talking to anybody, I don’t have dating apps, I only have eyes for you.” Chris trails a hand up to your back, rubbing gently as he spoke. You just nodded at his words, believing him completely.

“But, um… if we don’t have a label, and we do want to eventually… be together,” you start shyly, moving your eyes down to your comforter. “Can we still sneak around and have sex? That’s kind of really hot.”

Chris nods his head enthusiastically, smiling wide. “Oh yeah. That was never a question. I’ll never be able to keep my hands off you again.”

You laugh, happy he’s on the same page. “Perfect.”

-

a/n: sooo…

smoke and mirrors was SUPPOSED to end here, but you guys BULLIED ME into continuing it so here’s to the beginning of the sneaking around portion of s&m 😈

thanks for all the love babies keep it up please 🖤

taglist

@liiixsturniolos @madelinesturn @st6niolo @mattslolita @ifwdominicfike @sophand4n4 @chris-hallelujah @sophsturns @ariana2saucyy @045696 @scorpioosworld @byhrxb @vickytaa @taelovesmattsturniolo @secret-sturniolo @theboredknightcat-blog @slvtf0rchr1s @flouqissss @gabri3la-sturns @delilahsturniolo @starstrucktyrantinfluencer @vanillsstuff @sturnlsstuff @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @mattsbrat @mattsfavoritestar @dominicfikeenthusiast @certified-sturniolo @chrisslollipop @mattsside @sofiaaguilaxx @idrk2292 @dylansfavwife @pvssychicken @sturnl0ve @sturnioloangelxoxo @afilmbykay @sofia-is-a-sturniolo-triplet-fan @r0s3luvr @milasturniolo @mattsdillion @birkinbratsworld @sturnburbs @aria003 @poppingmypussy4chris @victoryouactuallydidthis @seluky10 @annsx03 @ouchywow @sluttybitchformattsturniolo

[bakukags]

infinite (bakugou x reader)

summary: You meet every Friday at the same bridge with a mysterious boy to exchange stories about each other's week. You've never exchanged names, but the connection between the two of you grows stronger—until he fails to show up one day. 

pairing: bakugou x gn! reader

genre: fluffy angst?

word count: 1,103

a/n: I'm back, but a little rusty! please let me know what you think so that I can improve my writing :)

It had happened one Friday. Then the next. And the next.

Suddenly, an entire year had passed, and the unspoken meetings had become permanently engrained in my routine. In my life.

Every Friday at 8pm, I would walk to the bridge and meet him there. We would talk for hours about everyone and everything - turns out being perfect strangers makes for perfect conversation.

But this Friday was different. Maybe it was the gravelly tone of his voice, like the side of an unpaved road. Or maybe it was the dark glitter in his red eyes, hazy yet warm, like wisps of smoke rising from the ashes.

“The stars are infinite.” He finally spoke after several moments of silence, the wind ruffling his hair. A blonde tendril of hair fell over his left eye. I resisted the urge to push it aside, to touch.

“And so is the sky. And the moon.” I let his voice wash over me, before looking back up at the sky, at the stars that spanned the entire universe. The same stars that were brightly reflected in his eyes.

“But we are ever so finite.” I murmured, instinctively finishing his thought. It was a debate we had often - how small we truly were in significance compared to the infinite spanning world.

He nodded, his eyes still on the sky. Then it suddenly hit me. While I knew this man’s stories and had glimpses of his thoughts, I didn’t know something as simple as his name. I opened my mouth to ask, but when I turned, he was already gone.

It’s okay. I could always ask him next Friday.

Except next Friday didn’t come. Or the Friday after. Each day I went to the bridge, hoping, praying, that he would heed our unspoken agreement. Yet he never came.

Finally, one night, I decided this would be the last time I would wait for him. 10 minutes slowly melted into 2 hours, until it was obvious he wasn’t coming and that l was an utter fool. I left, face flushed and arms shivering from the biting cold. My legs moved all on their own, right towards the nearest bar.

“Espresso martini, please.” I murmured, ready to take my mind off of everything.

While those talks may not have meant anything to him, they had meant nearly everything to me. Maybe I had just hoped that he had felt the same; that he had also found relief in talking to a perfect stranger. My mind swirled with memories - his low chuckle, sarcastic dry wit, infuriating smirk.

“Your drink.” The bartender cut off my thoughts, raising an eyebrow as I downed the drink and immediately ordered another. I looked away, a flush already rising on my cheeks, before catching sight of something familiar.

Red eyes.

He sat in a booth, nursing a beer. And though he was surrounded by people, his slouched posture and insistent foot tapping revealed his true feelings. He looked back at me and stiffened. We stared at each other, time seemingly frozen. Then he stood and walked towards me, maintaining eye contact.

When he sat down next to me, I looked away. Some part of me felt betrayed that he was spending his Friday nights like this instead of with me. Another part of me felt relieved that he was alright, that he was well.

“Bakugou Katsuki.” He murmured next to me. His name. I stiffened.

Katsuki? Like the hero Dynamite’s name?

“I should’ve told you sooner but then I got scared. That you’d treat me differently because of my occupation-”

“So you decided to leave?” The words come out sharpen than I intended. I feel rather than see him flinch.

“There were emergencies. I was on call for the past couple of Fridays.”

“And today?”

He let out a deep sigh.

“I was there. Watching you.” He paused, as if waiting for me to interject. I stayed silent. He cleared his throat.

“I thought about how life is so finite. How I’m so finite. But then, there’s you.” He turned to me, trying to look into my eyes. I refused to meet his gaze.

“You made me feel like it doesn’t matter if life is finite, as long as I can spend more time with you. And suddenly, Fridays didn’t feel enough. And that… that scared me.” He stopped for a second, swallowing. I met his eyes, and this time they were burning hot, like red coals being stoked in a fire.

“And then- well, then I thought about how if life is so finite, then you shouldn’t be wasting your time talking to me because there are so many other people that are better than me. People that could make sure you’re happy and safe.”

“Bakugou…” I expected the name to feel foreign on my tongue, but it somehow felt just right.

You do make me happy. Make me feel safe. I opened my mouth to speak, but the words died in my throat. He continued.

“Putting myself in danger to save others is easy, and it’s my job. But being with you? That would be like painting a target on your back. And I could never put you in danger for the sake of my own happiness. Ever.”

I understood. It made sense why he wanted us to remain perfect strangers. This way we could still be in each others lives without the risk of villains finding out, finite together. When things remained finite, it was safer because you knew the boundaries and limitations. You knew that at some point, it would end.

While I understood, I also didn’t agree.

“If we’re finite anyway,” I whispered hoarsely, finally meeting his gaze. “Then screw it. Let’s just do it.”

“But-”

“You make me happy. And you will continue to make me happy. Finitely or infinitely, it doesn't matter to me.” I peered into his eyes, pleading. We stared at each other for a moment, and I knew.

The stars were still in his eyes. And they were infinite.

[revelboo]

Oml the cliffhanger on metroplex. Big guy needs more love in his life.

I absolutely love your work on these stories you got cooking here. Each and every one of them have so many characteristics to them. Can't wait for your next work. 🤗💖💖💖

Thank you!

18+ 🌶️

I Can Feel You Pt 6- extended cut

Metroplex x Reader

Monitoring as you step into the labyrinth that makes up his interior, for a moment you hesitate. Looking back up at the light streaming down from above like you want to go back. He knows he could close that exit to you, force you to continue on. Would you resent him then? If he takes away your choice? Little hands twisting together as you stare up toward that light, he knows he can't take that away from you. Needs you to choose him. And finally you take a shuddering breath and square your shoulders. "Okay," you whisper, eyes wide as you look around. "Okay. Show me, big guy."

Slowly he begins flaring his biolights, feeling the strain of redirecting energy where he needs it to give you direction. It's slow going when you're so small. Turning again and again, following the pulses of light. Trusting him to guide you and occasionally reaching out to brush your fingers against him almost absently. Those little touches helping focus him, because if he's wrong, if he's not careful, he'll burn through too much energy and be forced into recharge again. That unease twists through him as you follow, because he's not sure you'd be able to find your way back out. You're so little, so easy to overlook. How long would it be until the Autobots above miss you? Before you slowly starve to death wandering around inside him? That fear is a living thing, urging him to turn you back around. Let you go.

Just once, though. He wants to speak to you at least once. More than your stilted conversations as precious to him as they are. Wants to feel you reach out and be able to touch you in return. "I didn't realize all this was down here," you whisper, brushing against a cable. "It's like a whole other city." Except its only him here and now you.

You don't complain as he leads you, but as time passes, you are slowing. Shoulder and wrist bumping a wall as you turn a corner. Time is a hard concept for him, but it's different for you. You'd have taken a rest interval by now, right? He's not sure, but as you stumble guilt sets in. Knowing you're exhausted, but you're so close. Please, just a little further. "Metroplex? I think I'm done," you say, leaning your head against him. "Is it much further?"

Pulsing warm light, he waits, and you reluctantly push away from his walls to keep going. Knows you're tired and he's asking much more than he has a right to. But just this once, he wants to wrap his arms around your little frame. Needs you to understand how precious you are to him.

Exhaustion pulls at you as you scrub a hand over your eyes, your head pounding. It feels like you've been walking forever, trusting that there's a reason you're down here. It must be night by now or early morning. There's no way to know down here in his labyrinthine interior. He's seen you eat and must know you'll need to soon. Should already have. You keep your eyes on those warm, comforting lights of his, not on the empty shadows beyond. If not for the low hum of his spark vibrating under your feet, you'd think you were alone. Abandoned. Know you're inside him and there's nothing to fear, but panic is just there under the surface. Screaming at you to turn and run back the way you'd come. That this is a tomb, maybe yours.

And then light, warm and beckoning. Leaving the tunnel you were in to enter an open space limned in warm light along the walls, pulsing slowly as they run upward with a low thrumming you feel in your bones. Breath catching as you tip your head up to find his spark. It's a shocking thing to see, knowing it’s everything. It’s him.His life force pulsing and glowing above you, little arcs of energy trailing through the air around it.

"Metroplex? This is your spark, right?" The part of a Cybertronian they protect and keep hidden, and he's shared his with you. It feels like trespassing on something private as your eyes drop. Like this isn't something meant for you to see.

Directly under it is something almost like a closed metal flower, pulsing with that same energy. And along the ground, his biolights pulse. Slow, deliberate flares that draw you forward. As you approach, that strange structure opens, metal petals unfurling slowly as thick cables unravel from around it. "You wanted me to see this?" You ask, because of course he had. That thing that's not at all a flower is pulsing slowly like his spark, that light almost hypnotic. One of those cables brushes your ankle and twines about it as you approach and reach out. Fingers brushing him and feeling energy arc through you, shattering you.

That contact jolts through you as everything falls away and you’re left in a space limned in the warm pulse of his spark, surrounded by him. You can feel him in a way you never have before as you try to figure out if the space you’re in is small or infinite. And if touching whatever that was just killed you, because it’s so hard to focus here. You feel like you’re drifting and just want to sleep.

So hard to focus. That’s not your thought, is it? It feels like yours, but there’s a faint dissonance. Ground me, little one.

“Metroplex?” You whisper, reaching out and a figure materializes in front of you, bigger than you but not as massive as the Autobots are. Ghostly and insubstantial until his servos touch your fingertips and he solidifies some. You’ve never seen his bot form, but you know this is him. Metroplex. Warmth spilling through you as he offers you a big hand and you lay your palm in his.

“Touch me,” he says, the words a deep rumble, a plea as his servos curl around your hand.

Because he becomes more real where you touch him. Encouraging you to reach for him, hand lifting to cautiously cup his jaw. And his other arm curls around you and draws you near, feeling solid against you. The warmth of him, the thrum of his spark against you all so real. “Hi,” you whisper against him.

“You saw me,” he says, chin on top of your head, that deep voice so grateful it hurts you. Like acknowledging him, speaking to him is unthinkable. “Woke me.”

It breaks you wide open, that wonder in his voice over something so simple. Thinking about how he takes care of you, watches over you, has tried so hard to reach out. “I’m here. I’ve got you,” you whisper, reaching for him, cupping his helm in your hands and pulling him down. Because you understand that loneliness, of being unseen. Knowing you’re so much smaller than even the smallest Autobot, that you’re easy to overlook. To forget. And among them you feel alone, alien and unseen. His mouth is warm when you go up on tiptoes to kiss him. And he rushes into you, tangling what you feel with what he feels.

Knowing that he won’t be able to maintain this for long, but he’d wanted to tell you how much he appreciates you speaking to him so he doesn’t drift away from reality completely. All those little touches, the sound of your voice and your stories, you’ve held him together. Giving him something to focus on. A sense of self after so long.

You can’t separate yourself from him as his mouth slides against yours. Can’t tell if the need and heat are yours or his. But knowing that you see him and that you want to wrap yourself around him, protect him against that fear of being forgotten. Of losing what little of himself is left. Dying alone and forgotten.

Not sure how much of this is real, it feels like it is as he drags you against him. The kiss becoming something desperate, needing to show him he’s still alive. To feel him hold you, touch you. Big servos on your hips, lifting you as you wrap yourself around him. You feel the head of his spike slide against you. Sex and need and fear of being forgotten, left behind, all jangling through you. His thoughts, your thoughts. There’s no separating them as he pulls you down, the hard length of his spike sliding deep to stretch you.

Those big hands on your hips, moving you against him as your mouth brushes the corner of his mouth, hearing him venting raggedly against you. “I see you,” you moan, clinging to him.

“I feel you,” he whispers, against you. “I have you.”

You know it’s true as he keeps moving against you, his spike stroking deep again and again. You’re safe and sheltered here in his arms. He’s been watching over you all along, reaching out but unable to say a word. When he pushes you over that edge and you fist his spike, your climax is a gentle warmth spreading through you. Feeling him rock himself against you, groaning with his own release, helm resting against your forehead as those optics seem to devour you. Because he does see you, he’s seen you all along.

Previous

[shycoconutt]

papamin au, nanami is a bakery owner

nanami kento, bakery owner, is familiar with itadori-san, an old man who comes into his shop every morning to order a cornet and black coffee.

he becomes familiar with his grandson, yuji, when the small boy accompanies him one day begging for something sweet with strawberries. he watches as the boy’s eyes glow, face and tiny hands pressed against the glass of the display case. he leaves holding his grandpa’s hand with a belly full of strawberry cake roll.

from that day forward, the old man continues to come with yuji in tow, and nanami finds himself testing more strawberry-infused recipes.

two years go by, and nanami grows used to their routine. everyday, except special holidays when the bakery is closed, the pair arrive around 7 a.m., order their food, and sit next to each other while the old man reads his newspaper. yuji, a young boy ever so restless, often runs around the store greeting new customers and asking nanami silly questions.

“what’s your favorite color, nanamin?”

nanami raises an eyebrow at the boy, turning his attention to him after wiping the counter.

“yellow.”

that answer seems to appease him, as he giggles and runs away back to his table. before leaving, the old man turns and gives nanami a curt nod, the firm look in his eye sending a shiver down his spine.

after that day, they don’t come back. nanami can’t be upset, as it is to be expected. people move, find new bakeries to frequent. he’s become used to the amount of faces that come and go, some return and some don't. it’s normal, comforting even. but he can’t shake this feeling in the pit of his stomach that something is wrong.

with a surprisingly quick online search after closing up for the day, nanami discovers that the old man has passed away. he was eighty-two and left behind a grandson, yuji itadori, only four.

the ‘sorry we’re closed’ sign jolts aggressively as he slams and locks the door. the frigid, spring air causes him to tighten his scarf around his neck as he walks through the empty streets. it’s late, he doesn’t know where he’s going, but he walks.

after an inquiry at the local convenience store and a couple searches on the map application on his phone, nanami stands outside of the nearest orphanage.

fist held out to knock on the door, he freezes. what is he thinking? he can’t possibly be considering this. adoption? a 28-year-old, single man on a baker’s salary adopting a child he barely knows. it’s absurd.

he needs to sleep on this before he does anything rash. shaking his head and chuckling softly at his rashness, nanami steps and turns away from the door to leave.

that's the plan, however, until it flings open.

“sir, can I help you? you’re setting off our security cameras and, frankly, you’re kind of freaking me out. I won’t hesitate to call the authorities.”

wide-eyed with an apology ready to go, he turns back slowly with his hands raised in surrender to not cause any more panic.

“I am so sorry, I was just—”

“nanamin!”

hurrying footsteps pound the hardwood floor of the entryway behind the woman, and suddenly a fluff of pink hair flashes by her hip in an impressive display of speed. before the boy can make it any further, she grabs him by his shirt collar and pulls him to her side.

“woah, woah, woah there, yuji, slow down,” she chastises, “we don’t run out of the building, especially at night.”

the boy looks up at her with apologetic puppy eyes, “I’m sorry.”

the woman’s stern look falters slightly, and she moves to brush the hair away from his forehead. “do you know this gentleman, yuji?”

the boy starts jumping excitedly, looking towards him now. “yeah! this is nanamin! he makes me strawberry stuff!”

looking up at him confused, nanami clarifies, “I own a bakery in town that he visited frequently... with his grandfather.”

“ah,” she responds, flashing him a knowing look, “you do look familiar. you own a bakery here in sendai?"

"yes, ma'am."

“can we let him in, please?” yuji pouts, obviously restless.

“how about we ask him to come back tomorrow at a more appropriate time? besides, it is past your bedtime.”

“but—”

“mm-mmm, no buts. now go brush your teeth."

yuji's puppy eyes flash to nanami now, looking at him expectedly. hurt pangs in nanami's chest, recognizing that it must be nice for the boy to see a familiar face after everything that's happened. nanami can only assume all the pain that he has gone through at such a young age.

kneeling down to meet him at his eye level, nanami gives him a soft and sincere look. "I will be back tomorrow, itadori-kun. I will even bring you and this nice woman some fresh pancakes with strawberries if you go and get ready for bed right now, okay?"

with the promise of pancakes and another visit, yuji flashes a grin and quickly turns to bound up the stairs while yelling behind him, "don't forget the whipped cream!"

that causes him to chuckle, and nanami promises, "I won't forget."

after some more apologies, an exchange of information, and a swift goodbye, nanami finds himself walking back to his apartment.

he doesn't know exactly what implored him to visit the boy, but he knows he can't leave this alone. yuji deserves what is best for him, and if nanami is his best option, which he thinks he might be, then he will fulfill the role of caretaker for him. because no boy's spirit deserves to be crushed that young. pain and suffering are for adults.

the next day, after pancakes and an intense interview with a background check, nanami and yuji walk side by side, the boy's backpack flung over nanami's shoulder.

"oh! nanamin! I almost forgot," yuji gasps, "can I have my backpack?"

nanami leans over and hands it to the boy, who quickly zips it open and rummages through the contents. finally, the boy grabs a slightly crumpled piece of paper and presents it high in the air.

“this is for you!”

confused, nanami takes the piece of paper reluctantly, smoothing it gently before examining it. it takes awhile for nanami to register the artwork, coming to the conclusion that it’s just as it looks: a bunch of scribbled yellow lines filling the page.

“I drew it for you!,” yuji proclaims, “you know because yellow is your favorite color.”

nanami’s hand slowly rises to cover the stupid grin that’s plastered on his face. he mentally decides not to acknowledge the thin blur at the bottom of his vision. looking down at the boy now, nanami feels a warmth inside his chest that he’s never felt before.

“thank you, itadori-kun. I’ll cherish it forever.”

after many growing pains and bouts of self-doubt, yuji’s artwork, now framed and displayed in the bakery, serves as a reminder of why nanami decided to become a father that day, or, rather, how yuji decided for him.

a/n: this fic is inspired by artwork from @mottirinekochan329p4874 & @riritzuu. please go check out their work and show some love. ˘͈ᵕ˘͈

[bunji-enthusiast]

𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐋𝐨𝐫𝐝.

☀︎︎ || With a long awaited reunion, Jayce finally gathers the courage to do something he should’ve done a long time ago.

C/W || nothing nsfw honestly, just lots of fluff, Reader’s gender isn’t implied here, appearance isn’t descriptive, Jayce is just awkward with feelings.

Word Count || 3,433

Note || I feel I should clarify that my whole driving force behind this was inspired by all the jayvik scenes (however you view them lmao), and the song ‘young and beautiful’. Some other things inspired this but mainly these things.

This is also a first I’m posting a fic about a character from Arcane, or arcane at all honestly so some honest criticism for my writing would be appreciated.

That scream repeated over and over in his mind, again and of course – again. Jayce was becoming tired, worn down. His heart began dulling out the environment around him, causing him to look forward, no baggage weighing in on the astral shoulders of his that bore a weight so greatly, for the reality of the supposed great arcane. He was trapped in it for so long. 

Red, all he saw was red painting the calluses of his hands. His hands grabbing desperately onto yours, feeling the warmth, the sensation of that beloved warmth leaving your body. 

(All he could do was choke out a cry. Silent in the loudness of the world crashing down around the being of you both.)

Another fabric of time, which would have also been his reality. In which you were enemies, Jayce, he wasn’t sure what side to be on. All he knew was to destroy what was necessary, you otherwise wanted to destroy him. Jayce tried to converse with you, yet his growls fell on deaf ears. He was trying to end things, he really was. His want clashed with yours, the need to end things. Jayce just wanted you to not be in pain anymore, and that look in your eyes, the tense stance, pained breathing punishing sharply in the cavity of your chest – that confirmed it for him. 

But what was he becoming this time? (Man, or beast?) 

He couldn’t tell. 

A remaining constant rang true for him each and every time he was chained down in each memory, stone marble cracking in the face of your memory, he was almost beginning to forget what your face looked like. But that scream, it never left him. Your scream was the constant variable of which he experienced each and every time, and you almost always looked at him in fear.

Jayce hated that, he really hated that so much. Looked upon in unease, the sweat on your palms accumulating, and the trepidation rapidly beating in the confines of your ribcage; that heart of yours about ready to jump out, easily because of him. 

On that cobblestone floor, cracked by death and echoes of explosion. 

He couldn’t tell if you loved him–maybe as a friend–yet either way it was, once. He probably missed it, only looking past you right at others, Viktor, Mel, or even the face of the Hextech Gemstone. The way you were always so kind to greet him even if he didn’t remain a figure of importance in certain situations, you had always made an effort to include not only him, everyone else as well. You brought people together in a way he seldom noticed. But now that he was trapped in the belly of the beast, he thought about it more often. 

Jayce truly realized that you had. (But did he ever deserve it? He was beastly toward you often.) 

One step after the other, and he realized harshly–being brought back to the now. Something, or someone was far ahead of him. In this void of darkness, and even the occasion of the beautifully loud rainbow swarms, he had never come across someone real. So he began to rush forward, keeping a vice grip on his hammer. 

He choked out a shout, feeling his esophagus sore and weak. His body creaked, bones clicking against each other softly, and every which way he twisted himself — he could hear it. Jayce could clearly feel the way his joints had sanded, slowly creaking under the weight of herculean effort to press forward. 

The dull ache pressed in his chest, but he couldn't help the youth that springed him forward for a momentary transition in time.

A voice echoes, so strikingly similar to someone he holds dear. And he wonders if that was really the real deal, but he was easily proven wrong once the being speaks; “You must not fail, Jayce.”

Not Fail.

Must, not fail. The accursed organism had repeatedly told him that same mantra over and over again. He was pushed through the time lapse, and forced to relive the gruesome experience of being a human. The poor decisions made, the hope (and the false).

It was easily his driving force as he made it through the dark glowering of magicks that cursed his downfall, and the others around him. Jayce tried not to open his eyes as the sharp pains followed his limbs, intakes of breathing that punished him with every step he took. Yet it was sudden as he felt a ghostly touch impressed into his upper back, causing him to twitch, swerving his head nearly off the hinges as he looked to see whom the cause of the touch was. The crinkles beneath his eyes expressed clear frustration, as he was tricked once again. Jayce cursed himself mentally as he trudged forward, the onslaught of surprises resuming once again when the light gleamed – jarring as can be for a low fluorescent tone. He recapitulated his position, standing firmly into whatever ground there was irrespective of the pain. Jayce’s hands were worn with exhaustion, each and every ache screaming at him to fall down, rest. 

Imaginably he could, but he dared not too. (He couldn’t rest, not again.)

This was his last resort, he was not capable of letting it happen again. He needed to make sure nobody died, he needed to make sure it wasn’t out of bleeding, feeling cold. He knew it far too well, and he was going to make sure he was doing everything in his power to–

Oh wow. 

It was painful–painless–for a few moments, leaving him disoriented as he grunted, trying to accumulate to his new surroundings. He wondered where he was now, what would it show him next?

He blinks for a few moments, struggling to stand up as he supports his weight on the hammer. Inevitably cracking his neck, easing himself of the sore pains that riddled his neck and even the rest of his body. His leg was where it had really hurt for the matter, but no reason to worry, he was ready for whatever was gonna come next. 

“Jayce?” A gasp escapes his throat, ebbing it raw, his eyes blurring into clearness for the first time. He furrows his brow, attempting to get a clearer look at the source. The man was worn from battle–he tenses, fully rising to his height. 

(He heard a voice, and it was yours. Not an illusion, not a past memory. It was really that same cadence that not even the arcane could replicate.)

His throat bobs, churning with a burn that reminds him that he really is here. Where he had first disappeared in the first place, the accursed base of the HexGate facility. Jayce really, really had begun to hate HexTech. His eyes briefly scorn the intricate designs, almost weaved like the stories in tapestries. The stories were wrong, they always had been wrong. He should’ve listened to Heimerdinger, he should've listened to the professor. 

What was he doing?

Oh god.

“Is that you?” His eyes flicker back over to the one other person in the room, right in front of him. Jayce attempted—couldn’t—to look you in the eye, it was a difficult thing to do. His brows furrowed, a headache came to the forefront of his pain, and he closed his eyes. He heaved a heavy sigh–he was ashamed. 

Killing came so easy to him now, so why is this now any different?

Deciding to test the waters he quietly muttered your name, followed by a gentle greeting; “Hey.” Jayce murmurs, his bottom lip quivered for a moment.

You could see how cracked his lips were, and it made you almost worry for him. Of course, you should be. But you didn’t want to rush him, the way he had carried himself, you could see he was still far too tense and on edge. Both of you were thinking the same, worried about the other, still wanting to embrace each other–even so used to the touches of danger. It was in consideration, that made it all too painfully slow in this reunion. You nodded your head, taking a step forward. 

“You’ve been gone quite awhile,” You verbalized with a tilt of your head, gesturing about the length of his absence. “I was… worried.” He gave pause to your comment, a slight widening of his eyes as he lifted his gaze, albeit shortly enough to reach your torso. You looked different from what he remembered, just right there was enough to make him realize the passage of time. 

“How–I, how long have I been gone?” He internally winced at the way his voice sounded, his throat felt so sore. Jayce wasn’t sure himself, he felt it best to ask you. He understood that time had passed extensively, not how much for the matter, he felt it passing entirely differently during his time within the core of the arcane–whatever its physical being is. Something entirely reminiscent of a curse. He despised it so much for leaving you and the others without warning. But yet again, he hadn’t taken a step back to think about his words and actions, and how easily he could hurt others. Jayce knew better than that now, atleast. 

He could almost feel the hesitation radiating off of you, as if answering would be the end of all things. Jayce heaved a mournful breath, letting his eyes close. 

(Maybe it would, he wasn’t sure. Jayce didn’t want you to be afraid of him, is all.)

The room was cold, cold as the winter storm of the day he crossed paths with the arcane, he had almost forgotten that. Yet it was useless when he felt the warmth of something inexplicable touching his cheek, leathery he must feel. Jayce felt the way his skin hardened, the way his body tenses when he’s touched. But–that wasn’t the case here, no. 

A small gentle pad of the thumb swiped over the area, leaving him to open his eyes – inextricably locking gazes. Jayce was left surprised, almost recoiling for a split-moment. You kept a firm hold, your gaze all but gentle. Which was the last thing he expected, he searched any inch of your expression, and not once did your eyes falter in that interval of time. Jayce was tempted to stray away from your touch, every nerve in his being telling him to do so. However, it was something else that let him stay in the same position. That same stance, and he was unable to run away from it. 

Jayce grimaced, holding his head. Another episode, what he’s seen. Far too much of it, you concluded. 

He could see flashes of something unholy, far too close to the sun, or perhaps far too close to the moon. Jayce could see the debilitating deflections of creatures, something supernatural, the coarseness of rainbows. It was the way his lungs squeezed upon itself, twisting in a macabre manner of gestations that left him breathless for a meager few moments. You simply held him through it, and gently murmured, drawing his attention to you once more. Whatever he saw, it was the countless hours of death, it was inescapable. Blurry had it appeared to be once over, as he never wanted to recall the things he experienced. The last thing that had never been blocked out were those memories of you, dying over and over again, especially by his hands. It was in repetition that he blacked out so many times over, constantly finding himself in new arenas. Having to raise his hammer against someone else, seeing their blood splatter against the coldstone of the ground. Jayce wasn’t sure how he hadn’t–broken. 

It always felt far too real to him, he was sure it had. The heavy heart that corones his emotions, the way he acts. Probably in that alone that he had caused the deaths of so many innocents so many times, even for a different fabric in the space-fold of time, it still happened. Jayce didn’t want that to happen to you–not again–to anyone else. 

With the impossible decisions, and the road he had walked so far. There was nothing short of a future, or a dream for him anymore. He had to fight, even if that meant physically. Jayce knew there was something different in this life of his, he just wished this wasn’t the truth of it. He grieved it even, but he couldn’t truly be given time to process that. Life does not slow down for anyone, not even you, and not even him. One is only human after all, and you sure as hell make the most of it, the best you can, even if people may hate you for the smallest thing. It is innately the most human thing that truly makes each and every person kind, despite their supposed repugnant nature that makes mankind so infamous. 

“Jayce,” You murmured, a tone so soft, he didn’t deserve it. “Can you please look at me?” Almost to your whims, he felt so commanded. A rarity in such matters, that he didn’t mind it. Such a simple action, and it seemed so difficult though. But he tried, and succeeded. 

For the second time now, he locked eyes with you. His gaze was colored by bashfulness, leaving you to laugh. A tender touch, revering the inches of encroaching warmth that crawled back into his skin bit by bit. You breathed a puff of air, noting the cold atmosphere. 

‘He must’ve been cold before he came back out.’ You scrutinized the details for a moment, and considered how much time he spent. How long he went without proper warmth, the lack of temperature. Whatever or whomever it may have been that was his captor, you were glad he was finally freed for good, hopefully. You just were relieved that you could finally just see him, and know that he’s truly there (instead of just a delusion). Even if he appeared differently, he was still here. 

“I really did miss you.” You mentioned, seeing the flicker of surprise, surmising the life that brought back the color in his eyes. Less dull now, and far more colorful within the beautiful amber–almost had you wishing you could stay trapped in it forever. Not forever maybe, that would mean you’d never be face to face with him directly, like now, where you stood stronger than ever. As you were more than willing to be a pillar of support for the broken man, who you guess appeared to see so much, it nearly broke his mind. For the brief moment of pause, you could see his jaw tighten, as if he was contemplating something, but wary to air out the thought. 

He held the expectation that you would’ve been more fearful of him. Or at the very least angry, god knows he fully deserves that. 

Your brows tighten, almost wincing at the knot in your forehead. You’ve done that especially way too much lately, even since Jayce’s sudden disappearance. It was a question of your own, nothing short of anger, all it really was confusion. 

Jayce seemed to notice this, drawing you out of your short-lived predicament; “You… alright?” He muttered, somewhat hesitant to draw his hand over yours. He didn’t see himself deserving enough for that yet, not until he knew that it was by all rights okay with you. Only then you nodded to reassure him, biting the inside of your cheek as the moment passed. 

Finally garnering the courage to the breadth of your chest, “How… or why have you been gone so long?” Jayce simply looks at you with a half-unreadable expression, as if he had expected this question. One way or another, he was always going to be faced with such a question. After all, he had been trapped inside the palace of the arcane, a presumably long life-time of experiences; enough to age him noticeably. 

“I'll explain it,” He paused, a waver in his tone. “In time.” Jayce’s reluctance was more than easy to notice, so you nodded, not fully satisfied with the answer. But you had to wait for answers another time, there were reasonably far more important things to deal with right now. Whatever that may be considered. 

So you opted for a hug (entirely and completely out of the blue).

The affectionate gesture, which could mean many things, surprised him. He didn’t count for this happening—it made his knees buckle, the weight hounding you to fall with him. Even with the vice grip he previously held on the handle. He let go of his hammer, wanting and using both arms to just utterly hug you back with the whole of his heart, and he was fulfilled. Nose buried in the crook of your neck, it was filled with your scent. Your own hold on him didn’t vacillate at all–which in retrospect–it gave way to a level of solace he never felt before. 

He tightened his hold on you, a silent way of giving thanks, if nothing else. You were glad, happy even that he accepted your inhibited sudden gesture. 

You leaned back, slowly but surely, just to check that Jayce wasn’t uncomfortable. It was a failure however [as good as you were at reading expressions], there was naught a hint of it at all. You tilted your head, eliciting a soft laugh from the man. 

‘Mission successful!’ 

His soft laughter elicited a pavlovian response from you, leaving you to move your hands, cradling his face with both hands once again. Anything and everything seemed to fall short around you, for the long while you began to realize, lord you were far from attached to the thought however. His brows furrowed with a small grin, still finding it somewhat amusing with your subtle acts of nature. In spite of what preceded, the decedent time of passing made him begin to freeze. 

Color began creeping up against the patches of his skin that crawled from the beginning of his mandible, nape of the neck, and now up to the cheek bones. Expression faltering. (“Hey, uh…”) He tried to muster, but despite that, it fell on deaf ears. Your gaze made him hot, and he was always on the fence on whether or not how he should react. Jayce wasn’t sure how to handle it really, cause you look at him as if he was all that was there in the room. The spark of motivation behind your learning, or even the nights and transitions of time where you listen to him talk about what makes him so inspired. Of course, he always made the effort to do the same, but it had made him wonder if you felt so similarly. 

Yet, when he allowed his overthinking to fester, never bringing it up, he was afraid and just simply decided to not ask about it at all. Jayce was always a bit afraid about these things, but with what he's been through, he fears this may be the first and last time he’s allowed to see you. 

With that being his driving force, how his heart raced, it gave him a burst of confidence. Jayce lowered his left hand to your hip, the other to holding your face. His eyes were soft, brows raised as if he were asking. It was first and foremost, but his heart continued to beat right up against the cavity of his chest. 

There was a flicker of astonishment gleaming in your eyes, but it slowly disappeared, as if you ascertained what he was wanting, and frankly you found it sweet that he had asked for your permission. Nonetheless, you were more than delighted to oblige with his request. 

Warmth blossomed exuberant in his chest, as if fireworks were being set off. The sensation it ignited in him was soulful. A first tentative brush, then a second time, more sure than ever now. Jayce’s breathing almost labored when he pulled back, and he could figure the same for you. In a way, it was as if a weight was lifted from his shoulders by such a simple act of love. Even with the moments passing, the two of you leaned against one another, relishing in the feeling that heightened your tension. 

Though it did wear off quickly enough. 

Jayce watched with patience of a thousand men as you leaned back, re-adjusting yourself as you spoke. And wasn’t it ever the truth. 

“If you’ve done that earlier, then i probably wouldn’t even be here right now.” You remarked, causing him to laugh quietly. 

(No shit.)

He should’ve done this sooner.

[mr-ys-phantasma]

🌙 Moon Phases 🌙

Agatha Harkness X Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2074

Finale I - part 2/3 (Agatha X Reader X Rio ending):

As the fight continued, you could only watch; eyes getting misty at the sight. You did not want to see anyone getting hurt, especially Agatha, who so stubbornly kept fighting.

You gasped weakly when you saw one of Rio's attacks sending her back. The feeling in your stomach got worse when you saw Agatha spitting out blood as she stubbornly stood up, not giving Rio the satisfaction of defeat.

Deep breaths only caused you more pain, but you had to, as you tried to gather all of your mental strength to remain in control. Your hand was firmly placed against the wound, your white magic trying to heal you but failing to do so; the dagger far more powerful than anyone expected.

Seeing Rio and Agatha fighting made your heart beat painfully, each beat causing more aches within. You hatd seeing them at each other's necks when you knew deep down, they still had feelings for one another... and you had for them.

They did not deserve to hate each other until the end of time or fight until one of them was about to die; in this case, Agatha.

You slowly started to stand up, adrenaline the only thing helping as your legs felt weak; the shock of the attack still affecting your body but not your mind, since the safety of your lovers was far more powerful.

Your grip on Billy's arm tightened, using him as an extra support to get and remain up; for the last thing you needed was to fall.

"What are you doing?" Billy asked, looking at you in surprise. He stood up fast, ready to catch you in case you fell back but also, passively wishing to stop you from doing anything reckless. "You should be healing."

You took a moment to answer, each breathe causing you pain. "I can't. It's Rio's knife," you answered vaguely.

Your hand went to the handle, and you braced yourself before pulling the dagger in one quick move. The action made you gasp, hands shaking as you dropped the knife.

You brought your dominant hand on your chest, white magic coming alive beneath your finger. You tried your best to hold the bleeding, reduce it, and stop yourself from dying on the spot.

It worked faintly, but the blood kept coming out, no longer the dagger existing to block it and keep you alive.

You felt the familiar warmth of fresh blood coming from an open wound, but it did not phase you. You had your plan in mid, and that was the only thing you cared about.

Billy looked at you, a continuous support while he tried hard not to look at your bleeding wound. "What do you mean? You will die if you try to move." He argued, hoping somehow he could ensure you would not die on him.

Honestly, he could not bear losing you too; especially in such an unfair and unjust way. You of all witches deserved to survive and live, not fall victim to centuries old fuel between Agatha and Rio.

You offered him a weak smile. "Even my powers have limits, and so does my time here."

He had no words to argue, seeing you so determined despite the fact you were about to die. All he could do was to ensure you were okay as you took the first step forward; eyes always locked on the two lovers locked into this heated, never-ending battle.

You started slowly walking toward Rio and Agatha, not caring about the risk that their wild energy would and could hit you.

Your time, like you had told Billy, was limited. You didn't have a lot of time to act, and every second paasing was vital.

Each step felt heavier than the one before it. Each breath was laboured and brought up pain. The bleeding was not stopping, you're magic was not capable of helping you somehow heal while you were pushing your body to its limits.

Rio and Agatha did not take notice of you approaching until it was too late. Green and purple magic had come alive in their hands, but both froze when they spotted you.

This thing, perhaps, was your only chance to actually interfere, and you took it by the horns.

You let go of your world and focused all the magic you could gather in your hands. You could feel how quickly it was draining you, siphoning all of your energy and power.

Yet, you kept going, and when you felt it was enough; you stopped holding back..

Your white magic exploded all around you, forming a powerful sphere of white energy. It not only lifted wind, dust, and debris but also sent the two lovers on their backs; effectively stopping them from attacking one another.

Congratulations, you had managed to stop them both from trying to kill one another. However, at what cost?

A strong cough escaped you, blood staining your hand that had subconsciously moved in front of your lips. Your powers started giving up on you, and you had to bend one knee to try and save yourself from a nasty fall.

"Y/N!" Billy called your name in worry, so close in rushing to you.

Seeing you this weak and pale, worried both Rio and Agatha; who stood up and were recovering from your spontaneous blast.

Rio was the first to speak. "Get back, Y/N!" She shouted, seeing you trying hard to remain in the middle.

Agatha joined right after. Rio's words snapped her from the initial shock. "Get away from her!"

Their words started to tire you, your patience running quite thin since you were so close to bleeding out to death. You were tired, you were wounded and most likely about to die...

So you would not spend your last moments watching them fight and argue.

You managed to stand on your legs again, though you were unsure for how long you would manage.

"I swear I will keep blasting you until you both stop!" You snapped at them and brought your hand to wipe the blood from the edges of your mouth. Your other hand was still pressed against your wound, though to no avail; blood staining your hand and dress with no intention of stopping. "I don't care what happened between the two of you in the past... I don't care how Little Nicky got involved..." You took in a pained breath. "But I refuse to let you kill each other, over such stupid past and grudge.

And with those words, you could no longer remain standing. Your legs buckled in, knees supporting all your weight as they were forced on the rough ground.

The white in your eyes disappeared, your trusty powers abandoning you faster after the outburst.

Agatha and Rio acted on pure instinct, dropping everything they did and thought as they rushed towards you. They knelt by each side of you, arms spreading to hug and hold you; preventing you from falling forward.

Their presence was comforting to you as you felt yourself getting weaker. With the last bit of your strength, you brought your hands around each of their necks and pulled them closer to you.

"You two better make amends, or I swear... I will come back and haunt you both, " you joked weakly.

You could tell the ending was close, but this time, you were not afraid. You welcomed it, knowing you were in the arms of the two women you loved.

Rio and Agatha did not seem to take your words lightly, and both hugged you tightly. Agatha was the one failing to hide back her tears, her bottom lip faintly trembling.

Rio was better at being in control, perhaps because it was her you would see soon as she took your soul to the next plane. Yet the fact remained that she was not fully okay with you dying, so stupidly none the less.

As Rio and Agatha kept you closer; their hands met behind your back. In a silent moment of common grief and support, they let their fingers interlock.

"You stupid naive girl," Rio said, inhaling your scent as she buried her face into your shoulder.

Agatha hesitated to speak, afraid her voice would crack. "Sugar..." she whispered.

The whole sight brought tears into Billy's eyes, leaving him standing there as you slowly accepted death, and so did your lovers.

You closed your eyes, a few tears escaping as you held them close; feeling them together once again. Your feelings for both went crazy and you wished to kiss them one last time, but you feared you would collapse if you let them go.

As you three remain there, hugging one another; your breaths started to sync, your hearts beating as one as the faint light of the moon was casted on you.

Suddenly, your white magic started to come alive beneath your fingers, starting faint but slowly growing in intensity. The same seemed to happen to Rio and Agatha, one magic influencing the other; bringing it to life without the consent of their casters.

At first, it was so faint that no one noticed, but then this new feelings started to be shared within the three of you. This new combined power started to surge through their bodies and yours, a sweeter and more favourable wind picking up.

Your eyes opened wide as you felt your chest wound burning, and only then did you notice the show of colours taking place all around you.

Rio's green and black magic was alive, wrapping around the three of you, but it was not alone. Agatha's purple had joined into the mix, along with your white one; creating beautiful harmonised combinations as they kept moving around you like live creatures with a life of their own.

Once your fellow witches took notice, they gasped and pulled back; with you copying them.

Colour had returned to your once pale cheeks, eyes glowing with life. Your wound was covered by a mixture of this triple magic, quickly stopping the bleeding and sticking up.

"The wound..." Agatha exclaimed, being the first to notice it.

Rio notices it too, but there is obvious confusion on her face. You were literally with one leg over and now... you were glowing with life, your magic returning and boosting you stronger than ever before.

Then, the answer came, and it all clicked into place. "The power of the three." she looked at Agatha, a smirk of victory on her lips. "I told you she could be part of it."

Once again, you were confused on the topic of discussion; clearly, I had missed quite a few things that you needed in order to catch up.

Agatha always found you rather adorable when you had that innocent and confused expression on your face.

She cupped your cheek gently. "I will explain later, sugar."

With their help, you slowly got up; feeling better than before, but you could go for a long nap.

As you turned to face Billy, you almost got tackled by him as he rushed to hug you. He truly thought he had lost you for a moment, and now here you stand, all healthy and healed.

"How is this possible? Thought you couldn't heal the wound," he said and pulled back, looking at you for answers.

You could not help but smile. "Alone, I couldn't. Together, we could."

Agatha chose to help enlighten the poor boy who had yet so much to learn. "The power of the three. Three witches magically bonded like no other, it enchants and boosts each other's powers."

Billy nodded and looked at Agatha, and then he dared to look at Rio. "So what now?"

It was your turn to look at Rio, holding her and in yours. "Please, let's end this." Rio hesitated to answer, evident in her dark eyes. "Come on, Rio. We will all die sooner or later. Why must you take us now? "

Rio remained silent for a moment, clearly debating the topic in her mind. In the end, she let out a small sigh of defeat.

"Very well," she agreed and lifted a single digit. "One life," she emphasised. "No more cheating death, no more body jumping."

Billy and Agatha did not have to be told twice to nod their heads, more than happy to leave with their lives.

Agatha looked at Rio and offered a sweet smile. "Thank you, my love."

[midnight-shadow-cafe]

A Kingdom of Shadows and Steel

Paring: Poly 141 x Reader

AU: (Medival) Knights!141 x Healer!Reader

Warnings: fluff, angst, mentions of injuries, boys assist in training their healer

Authors Note: I hope you enjoy, i might make a story about this-

Word Count: 1.3k

Masterlist

MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+

The wind carried the scent of blood and smoke as you knelt in the ruins of the battlefield. Around you, the cries of the wounded echoed—some fading into silence as life slipped away, others clawing at the edge of survival. Your hands worked quickly, trembling but steady, weaving threads of healing magic into a soldier’s mangled leg. The golden glow of your power barely illuminated the grotesque wound, but slowly, the torn flesh began to knit itself back together.

“Get out of here,” you urged, your voice strained but firm. “Before they come back.”

The soldier nodded weakly, dragging himself toward the treeline where others had fled. You sat back on your heels, every ounce of strength drained. Magic always demanded more than you were prepared to give, and this battlefield—a wasteland of broken bodies and charred earth—had swallowed your reserves hours ago.

The sharp crunch of boots on gravel snapped you out of your haze. Your head jerked up, instinctively raising a hand as though you could muster another spell. A shadow loomed over you, taller and broader than anyone you’d encountered today.

“You’re braver than you look,” a low, accented voice drawled.

You blinked, your vision sharpening. A man clad in battered black armor stood before you, a half-mask obscuring the lower half of his face. His eyes, sharp and dark, studied you with an intensity that made your skin prickle.

Behind him stood three others, equally imposing: a grizzled, blue-eyed man who carried himself with the weight of leadership; a younger soldier with a cheeky grin, his messy hair barely kept in check; and a man whose presence was like a shadow—silent, his face hidden behind a skull-like mask.

“I wasn’t aware the crown hired mages,” the grizzled man—Captain John Price, you realized—remarked, his arms crossed.

“They don’t,” you replied, struggling to your feet. “I’m not with the crown.”

The masked one, who had yet to speak, tilted his head slightly, his gaze pinning you in place. “Then what are you doing on *our* battlefield?”

You met his stare, unwilling to back down. “Saving lives, since you lot can’t seem to stop spilling blood.”

The younger man—Soap, if you remembered correctly—barked a laugh. “She’s got fire, eh? I like her already.”

Price’s gaze didn’t waver. “We’ll see.”

They didn’t leave you behind. Despite your protests—and your insistence that you could take care of yourself—they decided it was too dangerous for a lone healer to wander war-torn lands. Price gave the order, and that was that.

At first, their presence was overwhelming. They moved like a unit, each man fitting into the group like a piece of a puzzle. Ghost’s quiet intensity was unnerving; you often caught him watching you, his gaze unreadable. Price was distant but protective, a commanding figure who seemed to expect competence from everyone—including you. Soap, with his endless jokes and easy grin, was the only one who made an effort to pull you out of your shell. And then there was Gaz, whose sharp wit and subtle kindness chipped away at your defenses before you even realized it.

The days blurred together as you traveled. The landscape was a patchwork of desolation: burned villages, abandoned farmlands, and the occasional stretch of wilderness untouched by war. At night, the group set up camp in silence, each man falling into a routine as practiced as it was efficient.

You, however, struggled to find your place. Healing was all you knew, and while they respected your skill, you felt like an outsider. That began to change one cold evening when Soap handed you a dagger.

“You’re good with magic,” he said, twirling his own blade between his fingers, “but magic won’t save you when someone’s got steel to your throat.”

You hesitated before taking the weapon. “I don’t know how to use this.”

“That’s what I’m here for.” He grinned, positioning himself behind you. His hands covered yours as he adjusted your grip and stance.

“Relax,” he murmured. “You’re too stiff. It’s just me.”

His touch was firm but careful, his teasing tone oddly comforting. By the time the lesson ended, you were breathless—not from exertion, but from the way his laughter warmed the cold night air.

Over the following weeks, the 141 began to feel less like an obligation and more like a team. Price often joined you during quiet moments, his gruff voice softening as he asked about your past. He was surprisingly easy to talk to, and though he rarely spoke about himself, the glimpses he gave you felt like pieces of a puzzle you were eager to solve.

“You’ve got the heart of a soldier,” he said one night, his eyes steady on yours. “Even if you don’t see it.”

The words lingered, wrapping around your heart like a shield.

Gaz, meanwhile, became your confidant. His sharp humor and easygoing nature made it impossible not to let your guard down. One evening, as you stitched up a tear in his tunic, he regaled you with tales of his childhood.

“Got myself stuck in a tree once,” he admitted, grinning. “Had to be rescued by my little sister. Never lived it down.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “I can’t imagine you needing rescuing.”

“Well, we all need rescuing sometimes,” he said, his tone suddenly serious. “Even you.”

You looked away, his words striking a nerve you weren’t ready to confront.

And then there was Ghost. He was the hardest to read, his silence a wall you couldn’t climb. But his actions spoke volumes. He always seemed to know when you were on the verge of exhaustion, his presence grounding you in ways you couldn’t explain. One night, as you cleaned a gash on his arm, he surprised you by speaking.

“You’re stronger than you look,” he said quietly.

You met his gaze, startled. “So are you.”

For a moment, the world narrowed to just the two of you. And in that moment, you felt something shift.

It was during an ambush that everything changed.

You were caught off guard, the group scattered as enemy soldiers descended upon your camp. You barely had time to draw your dagger before a blade was swinging toward you.

“Down!” Ghost’s voice cut through the chaos. He moved like a shadow, intercepting the attack with brutal efficiency.

The battle was over in minutes, but the fear lingered. As you sat by the fire that night, your hands still trembling, Soap leaned close, his grin softer than usual.

“You did good,” he said, his voice low. “You held your own.”

“I froze,” you muttered.

“And then you fought,” Gaz added, his hand resting briefly on your shoulder. “That’s what matters.”

You looked around the circle, meeting each of their gazes. For the first time, you felt like you belonged.

The firelight cast flickering shadows across their faces as the five of you huddled close. The tension that had been building for weeks finally reached its breaking point.

“I’m not blind,” Soap said, breaking the silence. “I see the way you all look at her.”

You froze, your heart pounding. “What are you talking about?”

Gaz snorted. “Don’t play dumb. We’ve all got eyes.”

Price cleared his throat, his gaze flickering to you. “It’s true. We’ve… grown attached.”

Ghost’s voice was barely above a whisper. “It’s not just attachment.”

You stared at them, speechless. The walls you’d built around yourself began to crumble, the weight of your feelings crashing down.

“I… I don’t know what to say,” you admitted, your voice shaking.

“Say you’ll stay,” Price said, his tone gentle but firm.

“Say you’ll let us protect you,” Gaz added.

“Say you’ll let us love you,” Soap finished, his grin softening into something vulnerable.

Your gaze swept over them, each one looking at you with a mix of hope and fear. And for the first time in a long time, you let yourself believe that maybe, just maybe, you didn’t have to face the world alone.

“I’ll stay,” you whispered.

Hope you enjoyed! Please consider liking and reposting! -Midnight💜

[dissapointu]

A Steamy Encounter with You (ekko Nsfw)

Your fingers trace the contours of Ekko's body as you kneel beside him, your breath hot and heavy against his skin. His eyes are closed, a mixture of pleasure and concentration etched on his face as he leans back against the cool surface of the wall. The room is dimly lit, shadows dancing across the rough stone walls, casting an almost ethereal glow over the scene.

You lean in closer, your lips mere inches from his cock, already half-hard and throbbing with anticipation. Your tongue flicks out, just barely grazing the tip, and Ekko's breath hitches. A low moan escapes his lips, and he opens his eyes, locking gazes with you. There's a raw intensity in his gaze, a hunger that mirrors your own.

"Take your time," he rasps, his voice thick with desire. "I want to savor every moment."

You nod, giving him a slow, seductive smile before you finally close the gap between you. Your lips wrap around the head of his cock, your mouth warm and wet as you begin to suck gently. Ekko's hands instinctively reach for your head, his fingers threading through your hair as you bob your head up and down, taking more of him into your mouth with each movement.

Your tongue swirls around the sensitive underside of his shaft, sending shivers down Ekko's spine. He groans, his hips twitching involuntarily as you work your magic. You can feel his control slipping, every ounce of his being focused on the exquisite sensations you're eliciting from him.

"Gods, you're amazing," he breathes, his voice strained. "Keep doing that."

You oblige, picking up the pace ever so slightly, your hands now working in tandem with your mouth. One hand cups his balls, gently massaging them as you deepthroat him, causing Ekko to gasp and arch his back. The other hand strokes the base of his cock, ensuring that every inch of him is covered in your saliva, glistening under the dim light.

Ekko's grip on your hair tightens, his fingers digging in as he tries to steady himself. "Fuck, I'm... I'm getting close," he warns, his voice tinged with desperation.

You pull off him with a wet pop, leaving a trail of saliva connecting your lips to his cock. "Not yet," you whisper, your voice dripping with lust. "I want you to last."

With that, you take him back into your mouth, this time focusing on the head, your tongue flicking furiously over the sensitive spot just below the tip. Ekko curses loudly, his body trembling as he fights to hold back his orgasm.

"I can't... I can't hold back much longer," he pants, his eyes fluttering shut as he surrenders to the pleasure.

You decide it's time to change things up, pulling off him once more and moving down to his balls. You take one into your mouth, sucking gently before switching to the other, your tongue running over each in turn. Ekko's moans grow louder, his hips bucking up towards you as you lavish attention on his sensitive sac.

"Please," he begs, his voice cracking. "I need... I need more."

Satisfied that you've pushed him close enough to the edge, you move back up his shaft, taking him into your mouth again. This time, you don't hold back, swallowing him whole until your nose presses against his skin. Ekko cries out, his hands gripping your hair tightly as he feels the impending climax building within him.

"I'm... I'm coming," he gasps, his voice strained. "Don't stop... please..."

You increase your pace, knowing he's right on the brink. With one final, powerful thrust, you deepthroat him completely, your throat contracting around his cock as he reaches the peak. Ekko's body tenses, his hips thrusting up one last time as he spills his load deep into your throat.

His release triggers your own, your body shuddering with pleasure as you drink down every drop. Finally, after what feels like an eternity, Ekko collapses back against the wall, his chest heaving as he struggles to catch his breath.

You pull off him slowly, licking your lips as you admire your handiwork. Ekko's cock is still semi-hard, glistening with a mixture of your saliva and his semen. You look up at him, your eyes filled with satisfaction.

[nvtstvrns]

it won’t hurt - Chris Sturniolo

Bsf!chris, fem!reader, smut

In which: you get in a fight with Chris and you both go your separate ways, until he comes knocking on your door begging to let him inside.

Contains: smut, unprotected p in v, best friends, make up sex, no established relationship, pet names (ma, pretty girl, sweetheart, etc)

Authors note: I’m bored and idk where this idea came from. Enjoy! Divider creds @enchanthings and @xurengu0

It was almost 10pm and I hadn’t gotten a single message from Chris after our argument earlier, no messages in general. I decided to finally let it go and just get in the shower. I was sore from practice and I wanted to relax my muscles, that’s when I heard my phone ring. I was just unbuttoning my pants. I pick up my phone. It was Chris.

I roll my eyes but I end up answering it. “What?” I say when I answer the phone.

“Damn. Couldn’t be nicer.” He says. “Can you let me in please?” He asks. I furrow my eyebrows. What does he mean let him in.

“Chris what do you mean? Are you seriously at the front door right now?” I ask buttoning my pants back up and turning off the shower. It was raining really hard out and he was probably soaked because he definitely did not drive here.

“Yeah I am. I felt bad for fighting with you earlier and I wanted to apologize.” He says. My eyes light up. I knew he felt bad for the fight earlier.

“Oh. Ok I’m coming.” I say opening the bathroom door and walking down the steps to the front door. He was standing there completely soaked from the rain. I look him up and down.

“Hey…come inside.” I say opening the door fully so he can come inside. “I’m sorry for how I acted earlier. I was being a selfish bitch and you had every right to call me that.” I say sitting on a nearby chair.

“no, I’m sorry for calling you that, you aren’t a selfish bitch I said that in the heat of the moment.” He claims.

After we apologize to each other he tries sitting down but I don’t let him.

“I think you might have some clothes left from the last time you were over here, I can get those for you.” I note before I walk upstairs and get the clothes for him. When I come back down he’s walking around and looking for food in the fridge. I hand him the clothes.

“Is there any way I could take a shower? I don’t like the feeling of the rain.” He says tugging on his clothes.

“Yeah, I was just about to take one but you can take one instead.” I say walking up the stairs with him following behind me. “Oh, y/n you can join me if you want.” He says shrugging as we reach the bathroom. My face turns red and I turn to face him.

“Uh, no it’s okay, you can shower by yourself Chris.” I giggle. He starts taking off his pants.

“Come on, it’s fine, we’re best friends anyway, we used to take baths together.” He says pulling his hoodie over his head.

“Yeah, Chris when we were fucking eight, not as adults.” I say sitting on the counter. Before he takes off his underwear he gets in the shower, throwing them over the top of the curtain rod.

“Oh come on, I’ll keep my hands and eyes to myself, it won’t hurt.” He says peeking out of the shower curtain. “It’s not like I haven’t seen you naked before.”

“Chris fine I’m getting in.” I mutter pulling off my clothes. “This is weird.”

I step inside the shower and he immediately breaks his word. His eyes are on me immediately. I cover myself up self consciously. He grabs my arms and puts them down. “Sweetheart, don’t cover yourself you’re fucking beautiful.” He says staring into my eyes.

I burst into laughter. “Okay Chris, I’m beautiful.” I say through my laughs.

“I’m being serious pretty girl….” He says softly, his left hand trailing up my side slowly. I look down at his hand and then back up at him. “Chris…you broke your word, you didn’t keep your eyes or hands to yourself.” I note feeling my legs start to go numb.

Before I know it my mouth is gravitating towards his and we’re kissing in the shower. Kissing my best friend in the shower.

My hands attach to his shoulders and I jump up wrapping my legs around his waist. He pushes me against the wall and leaves sloppy kisses all over my chest face and neck. “God you’re perfect ma.”

Soon enough we’re out of the shower and in my bed his body hovering over mine as he kisses me deeply. His hands roam my whole body leaving me feel like I’m on fire. I’m ready for him. More than ready for him.

“Chris…Chris I want you…please I want you.” I say quietly, rolling my hips under him.

“Mmm you want me real bad ma?” He says his hand reaching in between our bodies as he rubs my clit.

“Oh my god, Chris, please…more.” I say. He finally complies and he pushes into me slowly. I bite my lip and furrow my eyebrows together.

The deeper he goes the more vocal I am. His tip brushes against my cervix just right and his hand stimulates my clit. He has too much experience on how to make a girl feel good. My legs start shaking and I lift my torso up hugging him tightly.

“God ma, you’re clenchin’ around me so perfectly, you’re so perfect baby.” He says as I feel the knot in my stomach get tighter and tighter. When it finally releases I arch my back and he holds me tight against him as my body trembles.

“Shh I gotcha ma.” He says as I whimper into his shoulder from the intense orgasm.

When I finally come down he’s laying next to me with his arm draped over my waist. “You really are perfect pretty girl.” He says quietly. All I could think about in the moment was how I just fucked my best friend.

“You really think I’m perfect?” I ask quietly turning to face him.

“Look at you! You’re perfect, your body, your face, your personality…I just can’t get enough of you…I’ve wanted to do this with you for years.”

My eyes go wide and I smile a little bit. “You know I’ve liked you for a long time Chris…and tonight was perfect…”

I don’t really like this one, but hopefully you do 🤷‍♀️

[hazbinshusk]

blitzø x f!reader. another wonderful request that's been waiting far too long. blitzø walks in you during a private moment and is far too entertained to be convinced to leave. and what he offers you... can you say no in your current state? 1.5k.

or, simply, blitzø walks in on you masturbating.

featuring: masturbation, sex toys, voyuerism, a cocky blitzø, oral sex (f!receiving).

“Oh, fuck…” you groan, eyes rolling back behind their half-closed lids as you press the vibrator more firmly against your clit. It pulses in a way that makes your jaw clench, your hips rising off the mattress. “Fuuuck…”

You moan as you press the toy inside yourself, pumping it slowly so with each push it sinks another inch into your soaking cunt. You ache with the feeling of it, tilting it each time you pull it out to bump it against your clit again before fucking it into you again.

Your other hand ghosts your fingertips up over your hip, your stomach, coming up to squeeze your breast. You whimper as your palm grazes your nipple, biting your lip against another moan as you pinch it and tug, feeling it tighten and harden under your touch.

“Satan’s… fuck, Blitz…”

“Heh.” An obnoxious voice sounded from the other side of the room, and your eyes flash open. “I knew you wanted me.”

You shoot up, grabbing a pillow and shielding your body with it. Your whole body shudders despite your mortification as the vibrator still pulses inside you and it slips out onto the sheets between your thighs, the vibrations obvious and loud against the sheets. “Blitz! What the—the fuck are you doing in here?”

The imp smirks from where he stands leaning cockily against the doorframe, his arms folded across his chest. His tail curls and unfurls, whipping behind him almost predatorily. “You called me in here.”

“Not in my— my house, Blitz,” you snap, your face stained dark with your embarrassment. You hug the pillow tighter against yourself, one arm banded around it to hide your chest, the other pressing the corner of it down between your thighs. Even feeling the dull sensations of the vibrations on the mattress beneath you is enough to make you quiver. Or maybe that’s… fuck, he’s still staring at you. “What are you doing in my house?”

He shrugs a shoulder, glowing eyes still set on you with a tingling intensity. “Got bored. Thought we’d watch a movie. Didn’t know I was gonna get a live show.”

“How’d you even—” you break off, pointing a hand towards the door over his shoulder imperiously. “I don’t care, just… for the love of Satan, please. Get. Out.”

Blitzø’s smile widens, his eyes falling to where the pillow had wilted, to where your nipple peeks out from behind the plush cushion. You don’t notice immediately, and Blitzø has the audacity to move further into the room. “Is that what you want?”

The tone of his voice drops into something huskier, teasing… and it’s enough to make your breath hitch. You can feel your thighs are slick with your own cum, and even without the vibrator against your clit, your excitement hasn’t waned. If anything, the tingling that runs down your back and lingers in your breasts makes you bite your lip.

Your words come shakily, and you curse yourself for it. “Wh-what are you… talking about?”

“Sure you don’t want me to stay?” he asks you tauntingly, still approaching the bed. His tail switches back and forth behind him slowly. “Preeeeetty sure you were just beggin’ for my help…”

“Blitz…” you mean it warningly, you do, but your voice is too breathless to be convincing. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?” he continues, planting his hands on the edge of the bed and leaning towards you. “Don’t ya want me to show ya just how good the fantasy is as a real fuckin’ technicolour fuck?”

You swallow, your mouth suddenly dry.

Blitzø jumps up onto the bed, crawls towards you. If possible, your face flushes further as he pauses to pick up the toy still dancing against the sheets. He holds it up beside his face, tongue darting out teasingly as though to lick it. “Ugh, Blitz—!”

He snickers, turning it off and tossing it aside. It lands with a dull thump on the other side of the bed. “Stop panickin’, tits. I prefer it right from the source.”

Blitzø runs his hands up your bare calves, takes hold of your knees and pushes them wider apart from where they’re still clenched around the pillow. You catch his smirk in the moment he leans forward, and without thinking, you reach up and wrap your hand around the back of his head and pull him into a kiss.

He grins against your lips, tongue sliding eagerly into your mouth to meet yours. You whine into his kiss, feel his teeth graze your bottom lip for a second before he sucks it gently, pressing his forehead against yours long enough for you both to catch your breath. Then his mouth is on yours again, swallowing the sound of surprise you make when he tugs the pillow out from between the two of you.

He urges you onto your back, laying you out completely bare beneath him. You feel his hand take hold of your hip, his claws digging into the flesh there firmly enough for them to prick your skin. He lets the kiss linger until you whimper into it, your body arching up off the sheets damp with your cum.

He pulls back with a cocksure grin curving his lips. “Just how often do ya think about me when you play with yourself?”

You snake a hand between the two of you to squeeze the bulge between his legs. Blitzø groans, eyes rolling back, and he ruts himself against your palm. “Same question, B.”

He snickers, kissing you again before lowering himself down your naked form, pressing open-mouthed kisses against your heated skin. You moan as his lips and tongue find your breasts, first one, then the other, lingering long enough to suck bruises into the soft, supple flesh. He grazes the point of a fang over the tender point of your nipple and your body jolts, a breathless, surprised little “haaah” escaping you.

He grins at your reaction, hand smoothing down the outside of your thigh as he smacks a loud, childish kiss against your sternum. Blitzø continues his path down your body, inhaling deeply when he reaches the apex of your thighs.

“Fuck…” he mutters, his breath tickling against your wet flesh. He doesn’t give you a chance to formulate a response; burying his face between your thighs and sliding his tongue against your cunt. The groan he lets out at the taste of you echoes your moan, your head falling back against the pillows. Blitzø hooks his hand under your thigh and hooks it over his shoulder, rolling his tongue against your clit hungrily. “Fuck, you taste like pure fucking… sex…”

You clutch at his horns with both hands, pushing your hips up to meet his mouth. Blitzø grins into your cunt as he lets you fuck his face, flicking his tongue over your clit again before sliding his it deep into your quivering pussy.

“Oh, shit, Blitz!” your voice is torn and broken with need, and he rewards the sound by touching two fingers to your clit. He teases it in tandem with the way he fucks you with his tongue, and your eyes roll back, your body tensing against the feeling of it. “Fuck, that’s— ohhh…”

Blitzø quickens his pace and you keen, fingers digging into the keratin of his horns as you cum against his mouth. He withdraws his tongue from your cunt only to return it to your clit, both hands grasping a firm hold of your hips, forcing them down against the mattress. He holds you in place and your upper body lifts, curling forward at the never-ending assault he gives your clit.

Blitzø doesn’t let up until there are tears burning in your eyes and you’re begging him to stop, tugging hard at his horns in the hope of easing the tension that keeps winding up and snapping inside you. Blitzø laughs into your cunt and even that is too much, and you squeeze your thighs so tight around his face he has to force your legs apart again.

The imp licks his lips, wipes his mouth with his sleeve as he crawls back up your body. The cocky grin is back, and he braces himself up over you. He presses his hips teasingly forward, and even the brush of his clothed erection against your over-sensitised cunt makes you twitch.

“And that,” Blitzø says, watching with a smirk as you try to steady your breath. “Is why I don’t knock.”

You manage to scoff, rolling your eyes. You shove at his chest, and he laughs again. “That is not the lesson here.”

“No?” he arches a brow, and you hear him fumble one-handed with the front of his pants. “Pretty sure it is.”

“Pretty sure it’s not, Bli—” you break off with another moan as he suddenly slides his cock up between your thighs. “Damn it, Blitz… fuck…”

“You wanna try and convince me otherwise?” he asks teasingly, rocking his hips until the head of his cock just presses into your cunt. Your hips rise reflexively, and you whine as the movement draws him a few inches deeper. Blitzø moans, face falling against your shoulder for a moment. He pulls back again, corkscrewing his hips slowly, slowly into yours. “You might wanna do it without moaning, tits.”

[moirindeclermont]

Bridgerton folks, thank you for the warm reception of my new story.

This is "5 times Colin was Pen's first + 1 she was his", second episode. Here you'll find the first episode.

Today episode may also be titled "Pen meets Mr. Fingerton" 🔥🥵

***

Pen thought she might have dreamed the whole night.

No way Colin declared he wanted her and proceed to give her the best first kiss ever, and while she had not experienced it before, she knew the stories... Usually a first kiss was not all of that magical. Maybe it was because it was her and it was Colin. Everything they did seem kinda magical to her.

She was, again, at the door of his apartment and she was almost waiting for the moment he would start to treat her as a friend.

Instead, what happened, was that Colin opened the door, gave her his brightest smile and then a light kiss on her lips. So, maybe it was real.

"Sorry, I should have asked, I didn't know if you wanted-" he was adorable when he rumbled, Pen observed.

"Don't worry Colin. It's just, unexpected. I love welcoming you like this. Every day for the rest of my days".

She didn't have to worry about waiting for such declarations. Yesterday they talked at length about the future and them as a couple.

They both confessed they were yearning for this for quite some time, and they both laugh at their idiocy. But they were on the same page now. And they both know this was not a phase or temporary. They both were fully invested since the beginning.

That was the reason for seeing each other tonight. Well, that... And other reasons, at least Pen was hoping there were also other reasons.

She waited to damn long and she was ready. Possibly in that moment.

They ate and talk, laying out plans for their announcement as a couple (next Sunday on the bridgerton brunch). Pen was to ask her boss if she could do all remote (so she could come with Colin on his travels, as by his ask) and Colin was looking for a permanent place in London, so they could have a home base to stay when they were in the city (and eventually, when they were going to have kids).

Then, they looked at each other and it was like a magnet was at work.

They find themselves on the sofa, Pen on Colin's lap, kissing and touching every part they could reach.

Colin nibbled on her neck, before asking in a very deep voice "can I try something, Pen?"

She nodded. She wanted to try everything with him.

Colin flipped their position, then threw a pillow on the floor and knelt in front of her. She had a camisole and her lacy bra was barely visible. He took his time to unbutton her slowly, and Pen gulped when he was done. "Beautiful," he whispered.

Colin cupped her through the bra, teasing her. "May I?" He asked again and she responded by unclasping her bra herself. "Wow, Pen" Colin exhaled as his fingers were tracing her areola lightly. Her nipple was fastly caught it n between his fingers, making her moan. Colin looked at her with a wicked and deeply erotic smile, as he lowered his head to touch the sensitive skin with his tongue. "Ohh," his were the only fingers outside of her own that played with her breasts, and it felt marvelous.

Colin seemed obsessed by her neck and her cleavage. Pen was on fire, but she needed more. When his hand found hers, she rather directly pointed him towards where she was aching to be touched.

He looked at her. "Sure?"

"Never been more sure in my life," and Colin kissed her again, before finding her thigh and sliding his hand. He found her bare, much to his surprise.

"Miss Featherington!"

She was a bit embarrassed. "I had them on before. But then I thought why not and asked to use the bath."

His eyes were dark with desire. "Oh I do understand. You're an eager little thing, aren't you?"

Speechless. This was a new side of Colin she could not wait to explore. She just nodded as he skimmed over her auburn curls, "yup, eager and wet," he said as he went to touch her folds, using her wetness to lube his fingers.

He touched her lightly at first, watching her reactions, sometimes teasing her nipple s again, sometimes giving her little kisses.

"I can't believe I get to see you like this, Pen" and she wanted to respond but Colin choose that moment to slowly enter her with just the tip of his middle finger. "I can't believe I get to touch you like this," as his finger slide in deeper. Her mouth opened, the sensation so different from the one she was used too when she touched herself. A loud moan escaped her lips and he started a slow rhythm that made her tingle all over.

"Yes, like that love," he told her as he begin to touch with his thumb her clït, adding another level of pleasure. After some time he asked "another?" And she nodded her consent, feeling how herself was responding to his second finger inside her.

"I want to make you come on my fingers, is that okay Pen?"

Dear God in heaven. She might as well be in paradise. "Yes, Colin. Please!" She told him and then her brain went out of service as Colin kissed her.

It was clear he knew what he was doing, as he moved his fingers inside her with a motion that was working very fast for her. That and the light touch on her nub left her breathless, as Colin watched her again. That was the hottest thing. His look on her, as she was breaking into pieces under his touch. Pen used his arms to steady herself as Colin increased his rhythm until suddenly she was on the precipe and Colin remained steady in his movements.

She moaned a loud "Colin" a moment after, coming on his fingers. She moaned when she saw him sucking on his fingers like a it was his favorite dessert. "Next time," he said to her and she trembled.

Colin sat next to her, holding her steady. "That was... Incredible!" He looked smug, and Pen was looking at his very visible erection. "Do you want to?"

He looked at her. "I want to. But I also want to wait. Just a bit longer. It's weird to explain." But she understood.

"it's not. These are our firsts. We might have some in the future, but after so long waiting for each other, pacing these experiences makes them more meaningful."

He looked at her. "You nailed it."

She grinned. "Nope, you did."

Colin laughed loudly. "Not yet, love. Not yet." As he settled her on his side, kissing the top of her head sweetly.

She always imagined cuddle was as good as people told her, but somehow, it was even better than her imagination. These days everything was.

[jam3sacaster]

“Let me warm you up, darling.”

(Rivals) Rupert Campbell-Black x Reader

Suggestion by a sweet anon 🫶🏽 / Rupert gives you a warm place to stay, and then some…

18+ FANFIC / SMUTish. Reader character aged at 21 💋

Torrential downpour whipped brutally at the ground, bitterly cold air creating the most savage concoction. With only a thin linen jacket wrapped tightly around your waist, you plodded through the cobbled streets of Rutshire, so exhausted and sodden that you couldn’t even force a tear. It was nearing on midnight, and you still had another forty-five minutes before you were home. The rain wasn’t going to let up any time soon — you had to power through. Two beaming strobes of light surrounded you, and the humming noise of an approaching car made you turn around with squinted eyes. Slowly down as it became parallel to you, the small car’s drivers window rolled down slowly, revealing Rupert Campbell-Black. “What on Earth are you doing, walking in the rain at this time?” He questioned, disbelief painted across his face.

“I’ve been at Lizzie’s. James didn’t want to give me a lift home, so…” You mutter, shivering wildly and standing to face him. Rupert muttered something inaudible, but you distinctly made out the word ‘cunt’. Reaching over, he pushed the passenger door open and shook his head. “Get in.”

You did as you were told, drenched clothes sticking to the leather seats of his car. Driving in the direction of his house, and now increasingly angry, Rupert spoke, “Why didn’t you call me?” in a particularly harsh tone. “I didn’t want to trouble you. You know, we’ve not been seeing each other long so I didn’t want to call you up and make you go out of your way.” You sigh, twiddling anxious fingers together in your lap. The downpour lashed against the window, and you watched the drops dance down the glass, creating an imaginary contest between three of them. “And that spineless weasel Vereker… how can he let you walk home in the rain? I’m going to have firm words with Lizzie tomorrow.” He tuts fiercely.

Spinning his car onto his lavish driveway, Rupert shuffles off his jacket and gets out of the car, sprinting to your door and helping your out. You hold his coat over your head and dart towards the door. Wringing your hair out thoroughly before you entered, you felt the dangerous wave of numbing cold reverberate through your veins. “Come on, we’ll go and get you changed.” Rupert sighs, motioning you towards the stairs. Your limbs were so numb and frost-bitten that you could barely move — there was simply no feeling left. Uncaring of getting himself wet, Rupert leant down and scooped you up with ease and carried you up the stairs, only putting you down when you arrived to his bed. “Rupert, you really didn’t have to.” You whisper, but he really wouldn’t hear it. “I’ve got spare shirts in the wardrobe, so help yourself.” He murmurs.

Slowly pulling yourself from his bed, you tremble over to his wardrobe and pick up the stretchiest shirt you could find, laying it gently on top of his crisped blue duvet. Peeling your drenched clothes from your skin, Rupert watched in awe as you revealed your clothes. Mottled pale skin, firm breasts with nipples hard from the cold, a svelte, toned waist and a shapely behind. Inching towards you, Rupert placed an outstretched palm across the small of your back, making you shiver at the sudden warm touch on your skin. “Let me warm you up, darling.” He whispered into your ear, and pushed you softly onto the bed.

Smirking to yourself, you allow Rupert to suck your nipples, swirling his tongue around the pink bud, making you yelp in pleasure. Your blood soon warmed under his touch, and he reached over to turn off the lamp, shrouding you in darkness to hide your ensuing sins.

[carlos-in-glasses]

Thank you for the tag @whatsintheboxmh and @nisbanisba 🧡

This is from chapter 12 of Rhythms, coming on Sunday! It might be my personal favourite chapter so can't wait to share! Also...12 weeks of posting down already 😭 It's all going too fast.

In which we join Carlos, Buttercup and TK at Gabriel's funeral wake:

“Oh, you want one of these?” Carlos feels himself actually smile, taking a couple of baby carrots from a bag in the crisper drawer. Rocky always loved carrots. “Here, have one for Rocky,” he says, feeding Buttercup from his hand and regretting it for the palmful of drool.

Carlos washes his hands but can’t resist returning to Buttercup to pet him. Dogs are creatures of enormous comfort.

He crouches and takes Buttercup’s face in his hands. “Thank you, Buttercup. Thank you,” he whispers.

Buttercup boofs and dusts the floor beneath the island with his wagging tail.

A couple of sets of footsteps come crashing into the kitchen. For some reason Carlos freezes where he is, crouches down lower behind the island, his instinct to stay hidden.

“You want something, Casey?” A young, male voice asks. “They’ve got tequila.”

“Nah, I’m driving,” a second guy replies, “They’ve got so much booze here, man.”

A beer can cracks open and hisses. “Hey, did you know the Major’s son is a f*****?”

“What?”

“Yeah, he’s engaged to a man – I met the fiancé; this is his dad’s place. He was like, hey, I’m Carlos’ fiancé. I had to try so hard not to laugh.”

“Bruh.”

Eyes wide, Carlos slowly drifts up from behind the kitchen island like Titan rising out of the sea.

Two rookies who are barely out of training pants freeze where they stand, their faces draining of color as their mouths fall open.

The rookie with the beer can slowly puts it down. “I – we were just–”

Carlos clocks their names on their badges. “Marsh and Ross, Get the fuck out of this house,” he whispers, “Right now.”

Marsh and Ross look at each other and hurry away in the direction of the front door, brushing past TK as they go. TK spins in the whirlwind of them.

“What are they doing?” TK throws a thumb over his shoulder as he wanders towards Carlos and Buttercup.

Carlos is too stunned, too gut-punched to answer.

Buttercup lopes over to TK, his favorite boy in all the world.

“More cars have pulled up outside,” TK says, stroking a finger down Buttercup’s snout. “And your mom just opened the condolences book.”

“I’ll write something,” Carlos says shakily. A little message of love for his mom to find. The book is for her. 

Carlos follows TK in a stupor. The words of the homophobic rookie – it’s like someone has driven nails into his ears. There’s a sharp pain across his cranium, in his jaw, that makes his eyes water. He no longer feels like he’s at the same altitude as everyone else.

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