#I just want to see a little bit more of him
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stxrslut · 1 day ago
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DIDN'T GIVE UP 𝜗𝜚˚⋆
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pairing; rafe cameron x sweetie!reader
summary; after getting out of rehab, rafe is desperate to be intimate with you, so it feels like his whole world falls apart when he’s unable to arouse himself. but with plenty of commitment and a promise not to give up, he finally manages to succeed, even if it’s not in the way that you’d both wished for
content; talk of addiction and rehab, brief mention of overdose, erectile dysfunction, masturbation, brief handjob
author's note; inspired by a few conversations had over on @starfxkrinc about post rehab rafe. I'm super happy with how this one turned out, I really love exploring these sides of rafe
you hold rafe’s hand as you both walk inside. tonight has been so special, your first date since rafe got out of rehab. it had been intimate and quiet and comfortable. a lovely meal at the local gourmet restaurant filled with gentle loving touches had left you both wanting more, a more that neither of you had had for a while.
even before rehab, rafe had just stopped having sex with you. you’d thought you might get somewhere but then the od happened and he’d needed to go to rehab which meant you didn’t even see him for months. 
you’re both so touch starved, no words need to be spoken before you’re both making your way up to the bedroom, kissing and fumbling with each other’s clothes, quickly and desperately.
“god— missed you so much,” he murmurs, hands on your hips as he backs through the bedroom door, turning and kicking it shut like he always used to when you first started sneaking around together.
you moan softly “me too. missed you rafe.” one of your hands wraps around his neck and the other comes down to palm at him through his pants, his bulge is noticeable but he’s not hard yet. you undo his zipper and touch him through his boxers.
you both move back towards the bed and you pull his dick out, taking it in your hand and starting to jerk him off, but you both notice something. that something being nothing, nothing is happening. his dick isn’t doing anything. 
rafe frowns and you do the same, both of you look down as your hand keeps moving for no reaction. after about thirty seconds rafe steps away, “shit I– I didn’t know that would happen.” he rubs the back of his neck, “shit… shit.” 
you step forward and place a hand on his arm, “oh rafe… hey I’m sure its normal.. you did just get outta rehab,” you try to pull him to look at you but he doesn’t, he stares straight at the floor and shrugs you off.
“no… I.. this happens when I’m high not– I’ve been sober for two months.” he exaggerates, you can hear his voice beginning to break. you had considered that this might be an obstacle but you weren’t expecting him to react like this, surely all it’s going to take is a bit of trial and error until he can get it up with as much ease as he used to.
though you suppose this must be hard for him. finally getting some normality back and he can’t even properly enjoy it. and you know how much he hates to feel emasculated. maybe it is a big deal for him. even though it’s not guaranteed to happen yet, the imminent possibility must have shocked him into a panic. 
that’s fine, you’ve dealt with rafe under much more serious circumstances.
you step forward, more confident now that you have an idea of what the problem is and how you can solve it. “rafe, sweetie don’t panic,” you speak gently, “we’re gonna sort this out okay?” 
rafe looks down at you, “sorry– sorry I’m.. just wasn’t expectin’ it..” he scratches the back of his neck, looking down at his uncovered self. you nod, understanding his distress.
“that’s okay, it was a surprise huh?” you stroke his arm gently, “you wanna try again?” you ask gently and he nods shakily, taking a calming breath before letting you guide him to the bed. he sits down first and then you climb on after him, straddling his lap and quickly managing to retain the mood you were in before.
you grind down a little and his hands come to your hips to help your movements like he normally would but he’s quickly letting out an agitated noise and pushing you off. “it’s not working,” he groans in frustration. 
you pull yourself up to sit next to him. your hand comes to his chest, “oh baby,” you coo as you notice the tears welling in his eyes that he’s so obviously trying to hold back. in his mind not being able to get aroused is bad enough, crying would just make him pathetic. 
“what do you wanna do huh?” you pry, stroking his chest now and coming up to kiss his shoulder. “I’m sure that there are things we can try… it’s only been a couple of minutes.” you try to reassure him but you’re pretty sure he’s going to be inconsolable until he can feel confident in himself again. in his mind, a couple of minutes should mean you’re already halfway through round two.
“I– I don’t understand,” he sniffles pitifully, not daring to make eye contact with you as he instead stares down at his completely motionless dick. “this wasn’t supposed to happen anymore.. I- I got sober.” 
you kiss him again, “you did baby, you got sober,” you smile sympathetically, “and this is normal, its normal to have erectile dysfunction after stuff like this.” though that reassurance sets him off more.
“don’t– don’t call it that,” he snaps ever so slightly, shoulders tensing and momentarily shrugging your hand away, “I don’t– I can’t have a dysfunction, okay it’s– it’s gotta work.” his voice breaks just a little.
you nod, “okay… okay then we’ll make it work, okay?” you move your body so that you can look him in the eyes, you bring your hand up to cup his face. “you just tell me what you need, okay? we can do whatever you want, whatevers gonna help you.” 
he thinks for a moment, you can see the cogs in his brain turning behind his eyes as he tries to find something that he thinks may help him. his lips are parted and his cheeks are slightly pink. he eventually seems to come to a conclusion, he hesitates for a moment before speaking tentatively, “can uh.. can I try doin’ it myself?”
you nod, “yeah, course baby.” you smile, proud of him for being able to articulate his need, “where do you want me? should I give you some privacy or–” 
rafe shakes his head, “can you stay,” he asks, “please… just.. I really need you to be here.” he tries to avert his eyes, he’s embarrassed, you can tell, he reeks of humiliation and you wish that you could just take it away from him. after all that he’s been through in the past few months you feel this is the last thing he deserves. 
“I’ll stay here,” you affirm, “I’ll stay here as long as you need okay? you just do whatever you need to do.” you move with him as his hand comes to grasp yours whilst the other supports him while he shakily manoeuvres himself to half sit half lay against the headboard. 
you stay on the edge of the bed, keeping a hold of his hand as that is evidently what he wants you to do. his chest rises and falls slowly as he pushes his pants further down and then gently grasps his soft dick. 
he begins to move tentatively, doing his best to throw his head back and not think about it. you stay quiet, just letting him figure it out for himself. 
he manages to get it up, a little, you notice a look of clear relief on his face as he relishes in the sensation he’d worried that he wouldn’t get back. his movement quickens and then his face falls as he loses it.
you stroke his thumb with your own, “it’s okay baby, just take your time.” you murmur softly as his face scrunches up in annoyance. but he perseveres, hand going back down to try once again.
he tries, he really tries. he tries so many times, over and over again, and to both of your increasing dismay he keeps losing it over and over again too. 
poor rafe, tears slip down his cheeks and he groans from sadness and surely a little pain at the fact that he’s basically rubbed himself raw down there. his tip is pink and angry, you have half a mind to tell him to stop but you fear he may hurt himself more if he can’t manage or stop on his own terms. 
he huffs sadly. he knows he needs to stop too, “just– just one more try.” he says, “one more.” he nods decisively before looking up to you, almost as if to ask for your blessing to just try one more time. 
of course you nod, “yeah, one more time. you’ve got this rafe,” you tell him, squeezing his hand reassuringly with a loving smile, hoping to encourage him to finally get it. 
rafe starts again, slowly at first and then he builds up his movements, it takes a long few minutes but he manages to get himself hard, fully hard. he grunts and groans and you have to stop yourself from slipping a hand under your own underwear so as not to distract him from his moment. 
after another long few minutes he practically cries out, then whimpers and then tears of relief fall down his cheeks as he finally cums. it’s not a lot, and it doesn’t last long, but it does him good. the feeling simply overwhelms him and he finally feels reassured that he can be normal again.
once he’s ridden it out you wipe the tears from his cheek with your free hand, “hey.” you smile down at him, “well done, you did so good.” you speak gently, “I’m so proud of you, you didn’t give up.” 
rafe smiles, his previous humiliation replaced with pure bliss and relief, “yeah,” he nods, sighing breaths of relief, “didn’t give up.” maybe this evening didn’t go exactly as expected, but you think, with the circumstances, it turned out okay.
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sukunasweetheart · 19 hours ago
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the tiger and his milk! 🐯
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in this world, a certain tiger hybrid male keeps a keen eye on a cow hybrid female next door...
warnings; female reader, inaccurate?omegaverse, lactation without pregnancy, animal-human hybrid AU (but theyre more human than animal tbh just imagine them with ears and a tail), heat and rut, breeding, alcohol as aphrodisiac, bullying of the cervix, tit sucking, nipple teasing, biting, dry humping, overstimulation, sexual frustration, neighbours-with-benefits, knotting, f!masturbation, lots of cum, this is straight up just a hxntai oop
word count; 6.5k
dividers by @/saradika-graphics and @/thecutestgrotto
do NOT expect a serious and well-paced writing from this one, i was horny and the end result is just.... this. sorry not sorry, I AM WARNING YALL; this is one degenerate ass fic also forgive me for any inaccuracies in any of the tropes i used, i just cherry picked the parts i wanted and mixed it all together so...
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moving to this new neighborhood hasn't been all too easy for you.
being a little low on money aside, there's a certain rambunctious neighbour who won't leave you alone. he playfully terrorises you with threats to eat you up, and makes comments that all go straight to your head, making you feel weak and flustered, leading you to cower beneath him. though you should firmly tell him to cut it out, you struggle to do this when you’re dealing with someone who could be a natural predator of yours, had you been an actual sow and not a hybrid. 
that, and also-
strangely, there's a part of you that doesn't despise the way he treats you. in fact, when you see his large, brutish hands and the veins that run up his arms, you feel yourself squeezing your thighs together. you brush it off as it being a result of your apparent loneliness and sexual frustration. there's nothing good that'd come out from being with such a discourteous man.
setting that aside... there are numerous other problems that you've been having to deal with, recently.
your breasts have been collecting milk faster, and much more than usual, recently.
even for cow hybrids, milk should only be produced when the female is pregnant, and for only a year or two at most after giving birth. for some unknown reason, you produce it all year round, even without needing to have children. doctor after doctor you've visited, and all they've told you is that you're a strange anomaly. there is nothing you can do about it except extract it every now and then, to relieve the pain and swelling.
tonight, that is what you're planning on busying yourself with, once you get home from your shitty office job.
walking towards your porch with a deep sigh, you hear a deep voice call out to you.
"bad day at work, dollface?" your terrible neighbour-- sukuna, he's called, asks you with a cigarette in his hand dressed in jeans and a black tanktop. his tail swishes playfully behind him.
dollface. one of the few nicknames he uses condescendingly to refer to you. it's either dollface, doll, or sweetheart, and you don't recall ever hearing him actually use your name.
"um, work was alright... thank you for asking. have a good evening."
you like to make things short and stop any further conversation from happening, even though it might come off as a little awkward. one of sukuna's ears flick at your dry response, but he doesn't seem to bother you any further as you hurriedly unlock your front door and head inside.
sukuna drops his cigarette bud on the ground, and puts out the flame by stepping on it. you're not very sociable, as per usual...
but your sweet, passing scent makes for a little growl to rise in the back of his throat. sweet milk. that's what you always smell like. how curious. how tempting.
once you're home, you immediately grab your breastmilk pump that sits beside your sink. it hasn't been too long since you last cleaned it. you unhook your bra, and grimace at the wet stains on it, from leaking bit by bit throughout the day.
you press the pump up against one of your breasts and press the on button. it starts doing it's job. you sigh from relief, and watch as it fills up quite quickly. you wonder what you should do with all of it...
you stop the pump to empty it out into a glass bottle. it's a tedious process. sometimes... sometimes you wish you had a partner who could help you with it. sometimes, you wish someone would latch their mouth on and extract you directly-
what if he-- sukuna- did that for you? forcefully held you down and-
your eyes widen and your tail droops with shock at your own intrusive thoughts. heavens, no! you need to get yourself a partner. it's been too long. you hope you're not heading into heat already? it's not time for that yet, at least not according to your usual cycle. shaking your head as you extract the remnants of the milk from your breasts, you finish up quickly.
at least tomorrow, it will be saturday.
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you'd forgotten about how overgrown the grass in your front yard had gotten. so, even though it's a saturday, and despite how you'd love to stay inside with all the curtains shut and doors locked tight... an unpleasant duty calls outside.
but despite the meticulous preparation of lathering enough sunscreen over yourself in protection against the sun's rays - the lawn mower suddenly doesn't want to heed to your calling.
your face scrunches up into a frown. darn thing.
the useless machine splutters and makes an obnoxious noise only in the beginning before giving out, no matter how many times you try to rev it back up again.
"goddamn it. you stupid thing," you mutter under your breath, crouching down to inspect it.
"need help?"
sukuna leans against the fence that is shorter than his own height, watching you with amusement. he'd been observing you for quite a few minutes by now.
"no thank you. i'm quite alright..." you respond without turning back. you know damn well whose voice that belongs to.
but does he listen? of course not! you hear the noise of the man easily bypassing the fence by elegantly hopping over it, before walking over towards you. how funny, even the fence fails to serve it's purpose in this moment.
"like that's believable. you think verbally degrading it will make it work?" sukuna snorts, coming around and shooing you away from the lawn mower.
he gives it a nice big rev, but not much happens. you smile slightly, wondering if he was going to make a fool of himself, after all that big attitude.
sukuna brings his foot against the side of the machine and gives it a hard kick. the sound startles you.
and now it's starting up nicely, and beginning to do it's job.
the man begins to mow your lawn for you, without another word. you stand around, not knowing what to do... your ears flicker as you stare at him doing your job for you. it feels odd. what is he up to?
well... no matter the hidden motive, it's true that he's doing you a huge favour. perhaps you should at least make a cold beverage for him, once he finishes with your yard. after observing him for a while, you head back inside to search for what would serve as an appropriate iced drink.
by the time you've stepped back outside, the yard is cut neatly and sukuna is in the midst of returning your lawn mower to your garage.
you silently hand him over his drink, and he takes it with a smirk.
"it's gone..." he suddenly comments.
"what's gone?" you question, with a raised eyebrow.
"that sweet smell that always surrounds you."
he proceeds to down his drink very quickly, not breaking eye contact with you. then, he starts chewing on the ice, tail swishing mischievously behind him.
"i... don't know what you mean." you cross your arms.
"hmm. playing dumb, i see. that's fine, i suppose."
you stand awkwardly with him in silence, simply listening to him crunching away on the ice. the heat from the sunlight gets more and more unbearable.
"if you're done with your drink... i think i'll start heading back inside now. thank you for your help today," you tell him politely, carefully taking your cup back from his hands.
he makes it seem like he's handing it over to you obediently, but then he tightens his grip against it when you're holding onto the glass, making you stare up at him in confusion. he pulls it back, so that you stumble closer to him.
"just letting you know. if you need any help, you can always ask me."
you're a bit nervous, but you try not to show it. does he know something? how much does he know? you feel your tail cowardly fall in between your legs. sukuna's ears give a light flick, but you don't know what that means.
"...we're neighbours, after all."
you look at him with distrust, holding onto your cup tighter. your gaze is unwavering as you meet his eyes.
"sure. i'll keep that in mind," you respond slowly.
seemingly satisfied, he lets go of your glass.
"thanks for the drink. see you."
it's a short backhanded wave he gives you, before he hops over the fence again. you narrow your eyes. just what kind of fence is this useless? can't even keep away one bad, bad man. you're not sure how much he's caught onto, but you sure hope he stops being interested in you with enough time. he easily sends odd tingles down your spine, and you don't like that one bit.
not at all...
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the working part of an office job isn't actually that bad.
it's the people involved around you that makes it a living hell. nothing gets your blood pressure higher than your collusive colleagues and snobby superiors - especially the lazy ones who do everything to shove their workload onto other people.
such people are yet also, annoyingly obsessed with get-togethers and teamwork, which makes you laugh.
today is such an unlucky day, that you've been dragged off to an after-work gathering at some cheap restaurant with your shitty coworkers, all because one of them decided that they needed one.
nothing like being surrounded by a bunch of people that you hate, on a wednesday evening. you have to put on a fake smile, and remain the passive, agreeable coworker in this environment. they coerce you to drink more alcohol. you want to decline, but you feel as though you'll ruin the mood if you turn them down. you down a few pints of beer.
you can feel your breasts leaking again.
just let me go home, you think to yourself, for the fifth time in a row.
your wish is only granted after an hour or two later. you're still sober, maybe a little tipsy, seeing as you can feel the heat in your face from the alcohol. your body is probably not taking it very well today.
the first thing you do when you get home is washing your hands and settling down with your little trusty pump. when you undo your bra, you sigh in relief as your chest feels free. and also...
it's probably the alcohol acting as an aphrodisiac - you're a bit more sensitive tonight. you caress the swell of your breast and groan, your horniness overriding how tired you are. your other hand wanders down your panties, and your ears droop down.
you purse your lips together and let your fingers work against your clit for an orgasm that you know will be unsatisfactory, but you chase after such pleasure regardless. your breaths quicken, and you tilt your head back, closing your eyes. nearly there...
just when you were about to reach your first high of the night, a firm knock is heard from your door. just your luck. a ruined orgasm.
who can it be, at this time of the evening? you throw on a cardigan that just barely covers you up, and boldly stomp towards the door, irritated. you could give this person just about any piece of your mind.
but when you open the door, you're met with your most cunning and bothersome of a neighbour, sukuna. maybe it's because you're hornier than ever right now - you feel as though he looks even...hotter, tonight. his scent makes you dizzy.
sukuna had come by because he needed an ingredient for his dinner.
he wasn't expecting to be met with the eye candy that is your slightly disheveled self, with one hand keeping your loose cardigan together, while you're very obviously braless, judging by your nipples jutting out against the fabric. that, and the thick smell of your arousal that hit him right when the door had opened.
"wh-what do you want?" you ask, a little breathless, trying to keep it together.
sukuna looks down at you, trying to keep himself calm. this seems amusing. he doesn't think he'll be able to stop himself from tenting his pants soon, if he stays around you longer...
"you look like you were busy with something... sorry to interrupt," he voices slyly, his fangs showing when he smiles.
"just... get on with it, please," you frown, your legs squeezing together. you can never tell what he's thinking - whether he knows everything or if he's pretending to know everything.
"nothing much, just ran out of salt at home. could i get some of yours?" sukuna shrugs innocently, holding up his empty salt jar.
"hold on a second."
you turn around to button your cardigan up with a sigh of annoyance, and you tell him to come in while you grab your salt from the kitchen.
once sukuna steps inside, he observes a million details at once. the very first thing he sees is your little pump that you'd forgotten to put away there. there's no way that puny thing is enough for you, is it?
in your kitchen, you grab your jar of salt, and attempt to open the thing - but your arms feel like jelly at the moment. you grit your teeth and try harder, cursing at yourself for shutting it so tight the last time you used it. you begin to strain your arms further. sukuna marvels at this excellent opportunity he is granted.
your feelings of irritation are whisked away when a pair of hands gently land on top of yours, against the jar. his fingertips reach the lid through the gaps between your own fingers. you feel the bigger man's body warmth, when he comes around from behind. it makes you feel so weak. your tail is hanging off to the side, raised high.
sukuna applies a bit of pressure, and the jar comes off easily. you note how warm his large hands feel.
"i came here for the salt, but now i'm thinking maybe i won't need it anymore..." he whispers down at you. your ears can't help but flicker from his voice.
"what... do you mean by that?" you ask, not knowing what to think.
he guides your hands to put the salt down on the counter. and then his body presses up against yours a little harder. you can feel his growing boner against your behind, and you feel lightheaded. sukuna peers down longingly at the exposed side of your neck.
your pheromones mix with his, and his fluffy tail curls around your leg, almost possessively. sukuna's hands are still holding onto yours, and you feel your breaths get more laboured by the tension.
"i promised to lend my help, didn't i? c'mon..." he coaxes, speaking closely so that his breath grazes against the skin of your neck.
you feel yourself starting to sweat a little more - his body heat is just too much. your chest is uncomfortably full, and the thought of someone sucking on your sensitive nipples is enough for you to finally cave in, and play the fool for the night.
you break free from his grasp for a moment, and hesitatingly point to your couch.
"...sit. it's probably easier on the couch," you tell him, not looking his way. and now you're even shoving him towards it, impatiently.
"my, how demanding," he comments teasingly. he knows you purposefully broke the tension - to prevent him from taking the lead. but he obediently takes a seat on your couch. following that, you awkwardly mount him and sit on his lap.
sukuna watches with a softer smirk as you unbutton yourself again, revealing your leaky breasts with a flustered look on your face. sukuna's hit with that familiar sweet scent that's always been floating around you all this time - but now, it's right in front of him, in full force. it makes his mouth water. he was right about you lactating.
"....go ahead," you tell him shamelessly, yet still sorely embarrassed, cheeks feeling so warm that you're concerned you might pass out. "just be gentle," you warn him, looking at him with a little hesitation and pursed lips.
sukuna feels his cock twitch against you, and he wonders if you can feel it too, from the way you're sitting right on it. his own face feels quite flushed - any man would be the same if they were in his position. such a pretty thing in his lap, willingly undoing her buttons for him. he's never seen tits more beautiful than yours.
"hurry-" you breathe out, impatient, and moreover, shy from the way he's shamelessly admiring your face and chest with a dumb smirk plastered on his face.
not even a millisecond after you say it, he puts his searing hot mouth around one of your nipples. your brain ceases to function as a zap runs through your body, and you whine without meaning to, your back arching against the couch. though you grab at his shoulder, your other hand claps over your own mouth to muffle your moans.
the suction of his mouth does wonders for pleasure, nothing like the dull feeling that your mechanic pump gives. you hear his throaty growls as he sucks on your nipple, getting a mouthful of the taste of your sweet milk. you shudder under him, becoming pliant with his touch.
sukuna bathes in your warmth and the softness of your breasts, enjoying how he is able to breathe in your scent from this close. your milk isn't like anything he's ever had before. not too sweet and yet not bland - a taste that is unique to you...
his other hand squeezes your other nipple, making sure it isn't too lonely from his touch. you jerk your hips against him, whole body twitching from the pleasure, the joy of having your tits milked by someone else rather than yourself. you can't hold your moans back any longer.
"fuck... oh please..." you mumble, feeling your breast being drained of it's milk.
he stops sucking for a moment, and you see the beautiful but subtle blush on his cheeks, as he looks up at you like he's intoxicated. he lets his tongue out and flicks it up and down your erect nipple, rolling it around the areola. it makes you whimper and tremble in his lap.
"don't... tease me..." you say through gritted teeth, frowning at him while he merely chuckles at your reaction.
sukuna attaches his mouth to your other breast, as it's leaking so much - as if to beg him to drain it next.
your cunt is pulsing so bad, and you feel yourself drenching your panties already. you subconsciously grind down against him and his obvious boner, trying to relieve yourself, desperate to reach a proper orgasm this time. both of you are in a lusty haze, unconcentrated eyes, you're lost in pleasure and he's lost in the taste of you, your breast milk dripping down his chin as he messily gulps down with greed.
sukuna also bucks his hips up against you, cock straining in his pants - god, he's so hard that it hurts. when was the last time he's felt such a way? he breathlessly sucks and slurps everything out of you, feeling the milk pass down his throat and into his stomach. he could drink this shit forever.
he wants to cum. he's gonna fucking cum. into his pants no less, like a damn virgin. with the way you're rolling your hips around and grinding down on him like a whore, its only a matter of time.
"haah... sukuna... more- do it more," you plead, relishing in the pleasure of having your tits taken care of, while you get yourself off on his very obvious erection - rubbing your clothed cunt against him. it feels so good on your sensitive clit, you're gonna lose your damn mind.
sukuna doesn't pry his lips away from your nipple, but his hands come off your breasts - you feel his arms wrap around your waist instead, holding you down against him tightly, guiding your hips and helping himself dry hump you harder while his face is still all up in your tits.
your breathing quickens even further, and you grab fistfuls of his shirt on his back, shutting your eyes in anticipation-- before letting your orgasm crash over you completely. you gasp as your clit throbs intensely, and you feel slick leaking all over in your panties as you ride your climax out against sukuna's hard cock, shuddering as you do so.
sukuna groans with his mouth still on your breast, his orgasm coming a little later than yours, dick twitching as rope after rope of his cum soils his boxers, hips bucking up into you without control - it feels so restricted in his shorts, and he desperately wants to take it out. his lips finally leave your swollen nipple with a little pop sound. his large hands come to grope the soft flesh as he comes off his high, a dull throb ringing in his cock, one orgasm being far from enough.
"look at you, rubbing your cunt all over my cock to get yourself off, like a proper slut. aren't you a little too eager?" he teases breathlessly, with a weak smirk on his face.
"you're the one... that came onto me so strongly..." you pant, drunk from the waves of pleasure you just received, and from the endless twitching of sukuna's giant cock... he's still hard.
"just admit that you're perverted. arguably, even worse than what i am," sukuna mocks, pinching at your nipples, making you wince.
"shut up, you."
in the spur of the moment, you lift your hips up slightly to shove your hand down his pants to take his dick out due to irritation. sukuna gives the slightest flinch from the sensation of your hand, grabbing onto his now bare erection.
you begin to fiercely jerk him off with a frown on your face, wanting to punish him for his comments a few seconds ago, knowing he's still sensitive from his recent orgasm.
"fuck-! what're you-" he cuts his own voice off with a choked off gasp due to the tight grip of your hand against his twitching cock. he's back to bucking his hips again as you pump up and down with both hands, his dick already being lathered with his own cum making it easier for you. the noises that come out of him almost fills you with pride - and also surprise. you'd never thought that someone like him would ever moan in this way... you jerk him off faster, and a little harder, being fixated on his pretty looking cock that keeps jumping in your hands.
"shit! that's- enough-" sukuna gasps again, chest heaving and whole body jerking, but oddly, not attempting to stop you at all.
you watch in awe, as his cock spurts out several strings of white cum once again, his head tilted back with deep groans, dick pulsing - your hands keep away from it for the first few seconds just to observe, but then you help to milk it dry, grabbing his base and slowly stroking up and down. he shudders from your touch, and the sight of him being so sorely sensitive makes you feel your heartbeat in your pussy again.
he really does cum a shit ton. it goes for what seems to be like ages, never ending pulses of his cock and rope after rope tainting your hands, and his own stomach. the way he shivers before you, how captivating his groans sound, it all makes you want to do it all over again.
you slowly rub his tip against your palm, playing with his dick as if it were a toy - but this time, he grabs your wrist to stop you.
"enough..." he says with a low voice - and the look that he gives you sends a shiver down your spine.
he's beginning to smell a bit different. its not like before. and it's getting thicker by the second...
"ah, fuck.... i'm in rut," sukuna admits with a scowl, and a flushed face.
the realisation hits you like a truck.
"look at what you've done," sukuna growls as he grabs your hips and pushes you closer towards him, his cock impossibly harder. he's breathing heavily, and you see the precum that's gathering on his tip. he won't be able to hold himself back much longer, and you know it.
and curse the omega in you - you're unable to resist him, and you can feel yourself syncing with his rut, a strange swoop occurring in your stomach. his strong pheromones make you lightheaded and feverish, instigating your submissive side as you become obedient - sitting on his lap with an eager shine in your eyes, breathing heavy from his strong scent and your desire to be dominated.
you want to have your brains fucked out. you can't take it anymore.
as if reading your mind, sukuna lunges forward and practically throws you onto your back on your couch - you let out a yelp and watch as he pulls your shorts and panties down and casts them aside, stripping you completely. you feel so vulnerable, but his intense strength and desperation is only adding to your arousal.
he pushes your knees up and rubs his cock up against your clit, and puckering hole.
"look at all this slick. you want me that bad huh?" sukuna remarks darkly, sweat gathering on his temples.
you grit your teeth, fighting the urge to give him a meek response - having the strange desire to provoke and set him off until the end.
"you're the desperate one here..." you tell him breathlessly, sensing how his dick is practically begging to be inside you, with the way it twitches on your cunt.
your blood runs cold for a second, when you see the way he looks down at you, with a vein popping out on his forehead.
"...maybe i am," he relents, with a low voice, grabbing your face.
and then he leans down to shove his lips against yours, while thrusting his cock into you at the same time.
you whimper into the kiss as his tip hits your womb like nothing. you'd ignored how massive he was at the start, but now it's impossible to brush off.
"t-too big..." you mumble when he breaks away from your lips.
sukuna groans as he drags his cock in and out of your sopping cunt, practically holding him in an iron grip from the suction. your endless amount of slick coats his dick with plenty of lubricant to fuck you more easily.
"you can take it, doll. i'll make you take it..."
his eyes dilate as he begins to piston his hips at a fast but uneven pace, groaning shamelessly as his cock ravishes your pussy by hitting all the right places, heavy balls smacking against your ass with every thrust. the pleasure runs through your veins like electricity, and you feel high off the feeling of someone so big and strong using you like you were his fleshlight - to relieve his rut.
you can barely breathe from the way he pounds you, relentlessly pushing you to the limit, tears forming in your eyes and high pitched moans coming from your throat.
"ohh-! sukuna... oh, please please please..." you plead, almost sobbing.
he responds by leaning down to lather his tongue against your scent glands, sucking on them and rest of the skin on your neck. you shudder and let out another set of whimpers - and sukuna's fangs feel antsy, wanting to sink them into your flesh.
sukuna aims for the sweetness from your breasts, to distract himself. you cry out as he roughly latches onto your nipple and begins to suck as he squeezes your soft flesh. his cock feels like it's about to burst.
when he stimulates your nipples a certain way and his tip grazes your g-spot at the same time, you're hit with an orgasm that makes you squeal and has your cunt fluttering uncontrollably.
his dick gives in to the sudden milkings of your pussy and sukuna pushes his hips to settle himself into you as deep as he can - giving a choked off groan from the sudden climax as his cock swells up inside of you, anchoring itself.
the knowledge of him knotting you doesn't seem to matter as you enjoy the feeling of the warm gush of his cum pouring into your womb, his balls clenching with every rope that spurts out, messily coating your walls with white.
sukuna pants so heavily above you, abs flexing as he continues to orgasm in your warm cunt that still has a dull pulse from your previous climax. he nuzzles into the crook of your neck with a soft growl, and you wrap your arms around his shoulders.
your breathing relaxes as you lay still on the couch while sukuna weighs you down and breeds you properly, consequences be damned. you could try and fight him off, but it's been so long since you've been so sexually satisfied that your logical thinking has turned itself off. all you want to do is enjoy bathing in the pheromones of your alpha and let the heaviness of his large body drape over yours as he pumps you full of his babies.
sukuna is usually very careful about who he's around when he's in a rut - and he's always made sure either he or his partner had some sort of protection on before doing anything. he wouldn't want to go around having kids with the wrong people. it's hard to say whether you're wrong or right for him - he doesn't know much about you to judge yet...
but you make him feel so right.
and he's still fighting off the urge to mark you to make you officially his, with drool beginning to run down his chin. his fangs are making it unbearable; he needs to bite something right now.
"you look restless..." you tell him, getting him to tear his gaze away from your neck, to your face instead.
you pull him in for a messy kiss, slipping your tongue into his mouth. he feels the way you brush over his fangs, paying extra attention to them as you make out with him, and it makes him groan. you must have done this with someone else before. sukuna nips at your tongue and lower lip, doing his best not to break skin - trying to relieve himself of the urge to bite.
the swell of his knot is gradually subsiding, but you know that the night is far from over.
"which way to your bedroom?" sukuna asks after breaking away from your kiss, breathlessly.
"farthest down the corridor, past the kitchen.." you respond, feeling a little needy after he abruptly stopped the kiss like that.
"hold onto me."
he lifts you up easily with his arms, and you wrap your legs around his waist, arms over his shoulders. the display of strength makes your heartbeat quicken.
when you're laid upon the soft mattress of your bed, his lips come crashing down again - while his hips begin to give shallow thrusts, cock still hard and throbbing. sukuna kisses you like he's a man starved, and you feel as though he might actually swallow you up at this rate.
the strong grip on your hips tighten as his pace gets rougher. you have to break away to gasp and moan. every time he jostles your body, you feel his previous heavy load sloshing inside you, and it's getting too much. sukuna doesn't look like he's even entirely here, hips moving mindlessly and drool dripping down his chin - it's a terrifyingly arousing sight.
he tries to come down and kiss you again, but you have to push his face away - you're so out of breath that you're afraid you might pass out if he does that again. it's overwhelming, how his thick cock bullies itself against your walls over and over again.
sukuna doesn't seem too pleased that you're pushing him away; he holds you tighter and he adjusts his hips to fuck you deeper. you mewl loudly, but keep your hand weakly against his face - he doesn't force it away, but lets his tongue droop out, caressing your fingers with it. you feel him bite and suck on your hand as his sharp thrusts produce small bulges in your stomach.
you witness his eyes dilating again, and you swear you see hearts in them this time, your fingers still in his mouth.
his dick feels so, so good in your pussy. your intoxicating smell now surrounds him after coming into your bedroom, and it's driving him insane. he grunts above you, balls feeling heavy, dick pulsing as his tip finds its way knocking on your cervix. there's a thick ring of cream foaming on the base of his cock now, a mixed concoction of both his cum and your slick.
his thrusting gets sloppy and his hips stutter, meaning that he's going to orgasm again. sukuna's eyes roll back, as he messily "kisses" your hand, pushing himself balls deep into you at the final moment.
you arch your back at the sensation of his knot swelling up once again, cumming at this moment. sukuna almost topples over from the tightness, as the walls of your cunt flutter around his knot, effectively squeezing everything out of him.
"f-fu-uuck..." he drones out, his voice dragging the curse word out.
you feel him dumping every drop into your poor womb, emptying his balls. you're afraid that you'll get addicted to this "full" feeling, the warmth of his seed filling you up, the way your insides can feel his cock twitch violently with every thick string of cum he shoots out. you never imagined being held down and inseminated would feel this good.
sukuna's eyes are half-lidded, pleasure continuing to run up and down his spine. he pins your wrist down against the bed suddenly, and latches his mouth to one of your breasts - beginning to suck immediately, like he's trying to rehydrate himself with your milk. you shudder. it seems as though he's doing nothing but take, take, and take from your body... not that you'll stop him from doing so.
you run your fingers through his soft hair, catching your breath, slightly trembling each time he sucks a little too hard. shortly after he is seemingly content, he completely collapses his body over yours, face all up in your breasts, purring while his knot still sits inside of you.
you sense that it's only the beginning of a long, long night.
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once the sun has rolled into the sky, you finally remember the fact that the weekdays haven't finished yet - and that you're supposed to be getting ready for work right now.
problem is, there's a certain someone clinging to your whole body from behind, still purring against the nape of your neck with a hand lazily groping the flesh of your tit. you can feel his fluffy tail curling around yours, possessively. you're sleepy, and his stupid purring keeps coaxing you to take a nap. he's a lot more docile and softhearted than you imagined. you supposed he'd be out of your house by now.
you reach out and feel around to grab your phone, to give your workplace a call to take the day off. while you're on the phone, sukuna places soft kisses down your back. you hope your boss can't hear the excessive vibration in the background. once you're done with that, you shove your phone under your pillow.
"i need a nap... you can use my shower, or go home, whichever you prefer," you tell him sleepily, shutting your eyes.
"is sleeping next to you also an option?" he asks from behind you, snuggling up closer.
"mm," you reply mindlessly, already dozing off. he slips his arm under your head. admittedly, his arm pillow does feel comfortable.
when you next wake up in a few hours time, you don't know what to feel when you notice that he's still next to you in bed.
"finally awake?"
"yeah... i'm surprised you haven't left," you mumble, following that with a yawn.
"i'm surprised you're not chasing me out," he shoots back.
"what would be the point? i'll see you again the moment i step outside the house."
"i bet you love that. being able to see me all the time," sukuna teases, twirling a strand of your hair with his finger.
"ugh, think what you will," you roll your eyes, trying not to be flustered.
you suddenly realise how thirsty and hungry you are.
"i'm starving... i don't remember what's in the fridge," you mumble to yourself.
"hop in the shower with me and i'll take care of all your meals today," he offers, smirking.
you don't really trust his intentions - especially something as intimate as showering together - but you are famished, and you don't think you will be bothered to cook at all today.
"what meals are we thinking?" you ask, curious.
"hm. well, how about steak?"
"... is that a threat?"
sukuna bursts into laughter.
he informs you that the salt he had originally wanted from you was supposed to be for the steak he was cooking last night. who knew that he'd be having a different kind of steak that evening? you look unamused as he makes the joke between chuckles.
unsurprisingly, you do end up in the shower with him, and again, unsurprisingly, he does pay extra attention to soaping up your tits in particular, and making out with you a little here and there. but as promised, you are rewarded with possibly the best meals you've ever had since you moved to this neighbourhood.
after a bit of conversation, turns out the man is a freelance chef, which is something you would've never guessed. from first glance, he seemed like he could've been part of some gang or a shady underground business.
when you sheepishly apologise for misjudging him based on his looks, sukuna laughs once again, and tells you that he'll forgive you if you let him continue to "help you out" from here onwards...
the rest is in dot points bc im lazy!
originally, i had wanted to make this a bit more toxic but i turned it more wholesome bc i felt like ive already posted toxic stuff before this so haha...
btw you do a few pregnancy checks while sukuna is still there after that night, and it turns out negative. it's a big sigh of relief for you and while it should be the case for sukuna too, since he's never really liked the idea of having kids, for some reason there's the tiniest twinge of disappointment...
anyway - after this, their relationship turns into a weird mix between friends with benefits and ?lovers, semi slow burn
often crashing in each others beds and sharing meals, but also having periods where you won't see one another for a week or so when life gets busy
thing is, you always try and tell yourself that you'll only use him to relieve the swell in your breasts, but it's never the case. things always go out of control and you end up bouncing on his cock without thinking of the consequences.
and he can't stop himself from teasing you everytime, those tits of yours could kill a man, he swears. sukuna gets extremely touchy with them, grazing his fingertips over your nipples, groping you with your shirt still on like a lewd old man, life just feels better when he has your tit in his mouth or hands. it hardly feels like he's actually bullying you when he gets hard like a mf while doing it.
and there are moments where he blurs the line between FWB and becoming something a little more, like when he scents you before you leave his place. "...why're you scenting me?" "why not?"
there is an incident that happens in your house one time, where a huge water leak had happened while you were away at work, drenching the floorboards and things requiring a lot of fixing. you had nowhere else to stay that wasn't either a motel or some cheap sauna so sukuna offered you to sleep at his place for the time being.
"but there's nowhere for you to sleep except for my bed. i'm not bothered to clean out any of the spare rooms and i don't suppose you want to sleep on the sofa for weeks straight?" a sly method of getting you to sleep next to him.
it really made things between you two feel a lot more intimate and romantic, a lot of tension, especially when sleeping together without the sex and doing all the chores. both of you felt a little empty when the house maintenance was all done and you had to go back to your own place.
also, this man is quite loaded with money. freelance chef popular in demand, but he only takes up jobs that he feels like doing. sometimes he'll leave his house empty for longer times because he's busy, which makes you quite lonely and confused, since he doesn't really explain to you where he's going and why a lot of the time.
when he eventually is back again, he is met with you, holding the scent of some other alpha. he finds himself feeling incredibly upset and possessive, even though he's always deemed relationships to be superficial in his life, because it limits his freedom. but he just feels so deeply unhappy about it that he ends up arguing with you
he knows it shouldn't be something he is entitled to feel angry about when he's not even properly committed to you but it's not like he's ever mingled with other omegas ever since he's met you? it just felt so unfair to him in the moment.
shortly after the argument, you end up confessing you didn't even do anything with the alpha anyway, just a boring date and one quick hug. and sukuna also explains that it was his fault in the first place, leaving and coming back without saying anything. turns out that he sometimes works as a chef in places like hotels and when he's preparing food for companies or people who live a distance away, he just spends the nights somewhere nearby for convenience.
the tension is high after both of you are finished clearing things up, and it eventually leads to sex again. he wants to get rid of that scent ASAP, whether it was from just a hug or not, he needs it GONE. and this time, he properly marks you, sinking his fangs into your scent glands like he's always ached to do.
the night ends with you two officially becoming a couple, finally haha, happy days
the end
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retiredteabag · 2 days ago
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Nobody yearns like Satoru yearns.
I mean this in several ways. Satoru will long for something in a steadfast fashion. Unwavering, undeterred, if he loves, he loves to the point of loss. And after that loss, he will continue to love some more.
When I say nobody yearns like he does, I also mean it to say, you would never know. He would hide his adoration behind playful jokes and bold smiles. He would pretend, perhaps embarrassed by the intensity of his affection, that his care for you was nothing more than platonic.
He would tease you and make funny quips, badgering you about your day or something he found equally interesting, and once he would finally get you going, have you sharing little bits and pieces of yourself, he would really, truly, listen.
I believe many people would see Satoru as a poor listener, he had a habit of speaking over someone and thinking his opinion was gospel, but when it came to those he cared for, he wanted nothing more than to sit with them, listen and watch them talk.
"What?!" You would eventually have to say, incredulous.
His eyes would widen, but a grin would fill his face, "Whaat~~?" He would question, alarm bells shooting up his spine at being caught. He had been lost staring at you and now you were uncomfortable.
"You're being creepy! How come you're not saying anything?" You would point at him dramatically and wait for a response.
Satoru would sit up, sarcasm rearing to go, "Ahhhhh I see~" He would start leaning in, "You just like to hear me talk, huh?" Poking at your cheek, his hand was swatted away. "I don't blame you, my voice is verrrrrrry attractive."
A highly disturbed expression crossed your face, "What are you- Is that what all your lady friends tell you?"
Finally leaning back, he would feel his heart race, using it as a faux show of offense, his palm would feel every frantic beat. But he would keep his cool.
"Don't feel bad for recognizing it too, I'm irresistible, I know. Look at you, all flustered because I was looking in your direction." He would hide the growing blush in his ears by haughtily huffing his nose to the sky.
"I'm not!- Satoru!- You- Ugh!" You would swat at him again and he would let his infinity down to feel you.
"No need to feel embarrassed, I'm used to it!" He would lean back, grinning.
Yes, for better or worse, nobody yearns quite the way he does.
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starryjake · 2 days ago
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revenge | s.j
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in which you get your revenge on jake after the time he overstimulated you with a vibrator.
pairing: jake x fem!reader
includes: sub jake, use of sex toys (vibrator), overstimulation, drooling and crying kinda, cumming multiple times, kinda bondage (lmk if i missed anything).
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jake was so pretty. absolutely exhausted jake who just wanted to cuddle with you and go to sleep was too, too pretty.
you just had to have your fun with him.
besides, he should’ve seen it coming. he’d done the same thing to you last week.
you were tired from a long day of work and classes and jake thought it was the perfect time to absolutely torture you with a vibrator. he made you cum so many times, you’d lost count, but you were so oversensitive that it hurt.
that night, you couldn’t wait to get your revenge.
and then it was time: when jake was so sleepy and dazed, bound to go along with what you say until he would realize what was happening.
“baby,” he said softly as you started nipping his jawline, clearly trying to get his attention. “i’m too sleepy.”
“i know,” you mumbled, your lips pressed against his neck, “but i wanna have some fun.”
jake looked down at you, his sweet, sweet girl. he never wanted to deny you of the things you wanted, even when he was as tired as he was.
“i just don’t know if i can do anything, sweetheart,” he said. “you can hump me or ride my thigh if you want. just don’t be mad if i fall asleep.”
“no, jake,” you whined, trailing your hand down his bare torso. “you need to have some fun with me too.”
you grabbed his cheek and attached your lips to his before he could even realize you were doing it. he instantly melted into the kiss, sighing against your lips and bringing his hands up to your hair.
“so needy,” he mumbled against your mouth.
he couldn’t see it since his eyes were closed, but you rolled your eyes. you were needy, sure. needy to see him get what was coming for him.
testing, you dragged your hand down to cup his bulge, feeling if he was hard yet. you weren’t surprised to find that he was. it never took him very long, even when he insisted he was too tired.
you stroked your hand up and down his clothed erection for a minute, getting him worked up enough that he would actually want to cum and take back what he said about being too tired.
you knew he was at that point when you pulled away from him entirely and he pouted at you, his facial expression asking why you stopped.
saying nothing, you reached into the bedside table drawer and pulled out the fully charged bullet vibrator he’d used on you last week. jake’s face remained expressionless, not catching on to what was going on. he really was tired.
you set it on the bed and went back over to jake, pulling his pants down to his knees. he’d forgone underwear since he was just going to sleep, his cock springing out and slapping against his stomach. he was fully hard, his tip a light pink color and drooling a bit of pre cum.
for a moment there, distracted by the sight of his dick, you forgot all about your plan for the vibrator. you wrapped your hand around his shaft and started slowly jerking him off, watching his face contort with pleasure.
it was only when you felt him twitch in your grip that you remembered your mission.
you let go of him, much to his displeasure, picking the vibrator back up. he watched you turn it on, the humming sound of it suddenly filling your shared bedroom.
“what are you doing?” he whined, lolling his head to the side. “just make me cum and let me go to sleep.”
you scoffed. he was such a brat, it only made you want to use it on him even more.
“i will make you cum,” you assured. “just close your eyes.”
“i’ll fall asleep if i close ‘em,” he said.
“you won’t,” you assured him.
he sighed and closed his eyes, immediately becoming more relaxed. his shoulders slumped and his facial features softened.
you didn’t waste any time and brought the little pink vibrator right to the tip of his leaking cock.
jake jolted in shock, his eyes flying open.
“what the hell?” he almost yelled. “what are you doing?”
“having fun,” you answered.
he reached out to grab your wrist but you stopped him with a menacing glare.
“try to stop me and i’ll tie your hands up,” you warned.
“y/n, please,” jake huffed, staring down at you running the vibrator around his tip. “you’re not using your vibrator on me.”
“you did it to me first,” you reminded him. “you used it on me until i was shaking and begging you to stop. and i’ve been thinking about getting back at you everyday since.”
“i’m sorry!” jake cried out, tossing his head back in either frustration or pleasure, or both.
he couldn’t deny that it felt good. for such a small vibrator, the pressure was there. he could feel it intensely pulsating against his tip, pushing out more and more beads of clear precum. you’d only just begun and he was already so messy.
“i’m sure,” you mumbled, gathering some of the precum with your other hand.
jake bit his lip, feeling a warmth spread in his stomach and he knew he was already close. it hadn’t been very long but his sensations were heightened from his exhaustion.
“i’m close,” he told you.
you didn’t stop or slow down. in fact, you ran the vibrator down from his tip to his shaft and back up, his balls tightening from the unfamiliar sensation. his back arched in a way that was so pretty, your eyes widening from how affected he was by the vibrator.
“go ahead,” you said. “go ahead and cum for me.”
with that, his jaw fell slack and he groaned loudly as ropes of cum spurted out from his tip, which was a slightly darker pink than it’d been when you started.
“mmm, fuck,” he moaned, head tossed back and hips thrusting up slightly to ride out his high. “oh, yeah.”
a sheen of sweat covered his chest and his rosy cheeks. his chest rose and fell rapidly with little gasps of air. he came for longer than you imagined he would considering you’d only just started, but you assumed it was because he’d never had a vibrator used on him before.
you turned the vibrator off for a moment, taking in the state of jake before you. a puddle of his cloudy cum coated his stomach and his eyes were shut. his chest rose and fell less rapidly, telling you that he was finally calming down.
“jake?” you said after a minute.
he hummed, his eyes still closed. it was clear he was right on the brink of falling asleep.
to keep him from doing so, you turned the vibrator back on and held it against the underside of his cock below his tip, his most sensitive spot.
he jolted, eyes flying open like they had before.
“oh, fuck,” he moaned, grabbing your wrist to try and stop you again. “please. i can’t.”
“you can,” you assured him, holding the vibrator and his cock all in your one hand.
“please,” he cried. “it’s too much. i’m too sensitive, y/n.”
“you’re okay,” you responded, thinking about how sensitive you were when he did the same thing to you.
“oh my god,” he nearly sobbed. “‘m cumming.”
it was so, so quick. only a minute in and he was already shooting out more ropes of cum, landing on top of the puddle that was already there, creating an even bigger mess of himself.
he whimpered, entirely shoving your hand off of him to give himself a break.
“what’d i say?” you asked, demeanor darkening.
“you’re not tying me up,” he declared, like he was in charge.
“wanna bet?”
jake’s big brown eyes widened, watching as you reached into the drawer again to pull out the silk rope. you certainly weren’t afraid to use it on him, especially if he was going to be pushing your hands off.
“don’t,” he begged. “please.”
“then stop trying to push me off,” you said sternly.
“but it’s too much,” he whined.
he was already keeping a close eye on your hand gripping the vibrator, weary for when were going to bring it back to his cock again. it almost made you want to laugh.
“you can do it,” you said. “you can be good for me, yeah?”
he bit his lower lip, hanging his head.
you brought the vibrator back to his cock, turning it onto the next highest setting from before. his poor cock jake gasped, instinctively grabbing onto your wrist again despite what you’d just told him.
“jake,” you sighed, growing frustrated.
“i’m sorry!” he said, immediately retreating his hand.
you set the vibrator aside and grabbed the silk rope. you grabbed his hands and pushed them together, tying the rope around them tight enough that he wouldn’t be able to touch you again.
jake had a little pout on his face like a child who’d just gotten scolded after getting in trouble. it filled your body with warmth, how cute he was.
“i just wanna make you feel good,” you reasoned, pressing the vibrator onto his slit.
he hissed, pushing his hips up. his abs clenched, a bead of sweat dripping down the side of his face from the intensity of the vibrator and from already cumming twice.
“i know, baby,” he said while exhaling shakily. “it’s just…a lot.”
“but i know you can do it,” you cooed, dragging the vibrator down a vein on his dick.
he clenched his jaw, the mixture of pain and pleasure so overwhelming that it was clouding his mind, slowly turning him dumb.
“i can’t,” he mumbled pathetically. “it feels so fucking good though.”
“i know, honey,” you cooed softly.
you weren’t sure if you’d ever seen him prettier. his eyes were glazed over, his cheeks and ears a bright pink, and completely covered in his own cum. you wanted to ruin him, make a mess out of your tired boyfriend.
he tried to squeeze the bedsheets, but he was so weak. he couldn’t express his pleasure other than desperate moans.
he didn’t even warn you the next time he came. it just started coming out out his red, used tip, drooling out slowly in comparison to the sharp ropes that were spurting out before.
you were were pretty sure you saw a tear a slip down his face and were certain that he was drooling. he moaned shamelessly, so out of it that he felt like he was dreaming. he’d never felt so fucked out in his life.
you kept the vibrator pressed against him while he came and didn’t remove it this time to let him calm down.
“oh my god,” he slurred. “baby, pl—oh fuck. i’m cumming again.”
less than 30 seconds than cumming before and he was already cumming again, which you didn’t even know was possible.
his load was smaller, but his reaction was bigger. he threw his head back, exposing his pretty neck. his entire body tensed and the prettiest, most desperate moans and whimpers came tumbling out past his lips, swollen from biting and drooling.
“fuck, i can’t stop,” he moaned.
you watched him, feeling the wetness pool in your panties from how beautiful of a sight it was.
the veins in his body throbbed, his muscles clenched, and he just a beautiful mess. his cock was drenched in his own cum, the vibrator slipping against him.
you caressed his leg, removing the vibrator from his spent cock. he let out a groan of relief from you finally pulling it away, of giving him a moment to breathe.
his eyes were closed, his entire body limp. you lifted his hands in order to untie the silk rope, setting his hands free.
you sat up on your knees, caressing his face until he opened his eyes again, looking up at you.
“you okay?” you asked, your thumb brushing his cheek.
“mhm,” he mumbled, even more tired than he was before. “that was fucking…insane.”
“was it too much?” you wondered, grabbing some tissues from the box on the nightstand to start cleaning him up.
“yeah,” he said, “in the best way possible.”
you chuckled, running your fingers through his sweaty hair, pushing it out of his face.
“go to sleep, okay?” you said.
“but can we cuddle?” he asked sweetly.
“yes, we can cuddle,” you responded.
“and can i be little spoon?” he asked.
“yes, jake.”
-
screaming. shoutout to the anon who requested this, i loved the idea so much! sub jake just….don’t get me started actually!
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homeofthelonelywriter · 1 day ago
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The plane was filled with soldiers, all getting ready to land and start the mission. Everyone was preparing in their own way. Some people were listening to music; others were reading either a novel or the mission briefing. There were the quiet ones, their eyes closed, and their head leaned back against the wall behind them. Simon was one of those. Before missions, he wanted to be in his own bubble. He’d drown out the noise around him, go through the plan again and again until it was in his blood. But this time…he couldn’t. Because of you.
“Love…” he sounded exasperated as he addressed you. “…what are you doing?” You glanced up at him before your attention returned to the project in your hands. “Crocheting, why?” He watched you for a few moments, the way your eyebrows were pulled together in concentration and your tongue peeked out from between your lips. You looked adorable. “Nothing, just curious, babe.” He leaned down and pressed a kiss to your temple, ignoring the mask separating the two of you. By now, the pair of you were used to it.
Simon closed his eyes again and thought back, trying to remember if he had ever seen you crochet before, but nothing came up. This must be your first project. He couldn’t help but peek at you again, especially at your project. He desperately wanted to know what you were creating, but before he could ask, Price came up to him, gathering his attention.
“Ready?” Simon nodded and got to his feet. Unlike most of the other soldiers, the 141 was going to parachute out of the plane. He turned to look at you one more time, reaching down and tilting your head up to kiss you properly. “See you soon, love.” You smiled, though he could see the fear in your eyes. “See you soon, Si. Be careful.” He nodded, before joining the rest of his team.
The mission was cruelling, and he couldn’t wait to be back in your arms. They spent two weeks in enemy territory, trying to get the intel they needed. The rest of the soldiers were used in different missions to keep attention away from the task force. And it worked. After those two weeks, they had what they needed and returned to camp, where you were already waiting.
Being a medic, you rarely ventured out onto the field. Mainly, you stayed at wherever the base camp was and waited for patients to come to you. But when news traveled that the 141 was on its way back, everyone knew not to bother you. After all, you would never forgive whoever kept you from Simon. And the moment you saw him, you jumped into his arms. ���I missed you.” He chuckled, holding you tightly. “I missed you too, sweetheart. Come, let’s rest a bit, yeah?”
The plane back to Britain would leave the next day, so you had a few hours to relax before that. Thankfully, the task force members all had their individual tents, so you could enjoy the downtime without Simon having to wear the mask. However, when he immediately wanted to get into bed and cuddle, you had to send him off to shower first. He stunk. Plus, it gave you time to prepare your little surprise.
When Simon returned to his tent, he found you kneeling on the field bed, wearing only one of his shirts and panties, while hiding something behind you. “Oh? What did I do to earn this?” You chuckled and shook your head. “Get your mind out of the gutter, Si. I’m not having sex surrounded by horny soldiers.” The faux disappointed look on his face made you laugh again before you waved him closer. “But I do have a surprise for you.”
He stepped closer to you, even kneeling down right in front of you when you asked him to. “Okay, close your eyes.” The way he didn’t even hesitate, the way he trusted you, made your heart swell with love. And though it wasn’t what you actually wanted to do, you couldn’t help yourself but lean in and press a soft and short kiss to his lips. “Keep them closed.”
Finally, you brought out what you had been hiding behind your bag and pulled it over his hair. Slowly, his eyes fluttered open and he looked up, confused as to what you just placed on his head. “It’s not perfect, honestly, it’s the first time I even tried crocheting, but…” Simon stood up and grabbed the broken piece of glass he used as a mirror. “…when I saw it online, I just had to make it. Once I’m better, I’ll make it again, I promise. Just…do you like it?”
Simon stared at the beanie on his head, it was black and fit perfectly. “I love it. Thank you, babe.” You grinned and bounced to his side. “There’s more.” While making sure that he was still looking into the poor excuse of a mirror, you gently unfolded the edge of the beanie until it was a balaclava covering Simon’s face. A soft gasp escaped him when he realized why you wanted to make it for him. “This way, if you ever feel uncomfortable in public, you can just roll it down, you know?”
Without a word, Simon placed the ‘mirror’ down and spun around, pulling you into a tight hug. “I love you so damn much. I don’t deserve you, my love.” You chuckled, happily wrapping your arms around his neck. “I love you too, big guy. Now, cuddles?” With a grin, he nodded and picked you up, carrying you to the bed, where he laid down with you on top of him, the both of you quickly falling into a deep slumber.
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A/N: This one is long...oops. Based on this TikTok. Also, I don't usually post on Sundays, but this is a little thank you for all the love you guys showed me recently and for 3000 followers! Hope you like it!
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watchmegetobsessed · 2 days ago
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UNMATCHED II.
A/N: soooo you guys were just as horny for a part 2 to this story as i was so here we are, giving in to the temptation. disclaimer, i know their behavior is giving red flag energy but lets just put that aside for the sake of the story now lol
WORD COUNT: 3.8k
WARNING: sexual content, age gap, student-professor relationship
SUMMARY: Harry has been trying his best to forget what happened with Y/N, he is set on never making the same mistake, but it seems like fate has different plans for him.
PART 1 | MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!
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That skirt. That goddamned skirt. That’s gonna be the death of Harry. 
And also the fact that she went back to that asshole. 
Sitting in the busy school cafeteria Harry has zoned out of the conversation at the table a long time ago, precisely when he saw Y/N stroll in wearing that short skirt with that dickhead she should have ditched already or better, she shouldn’t have even dated him in the first place. But now they are moving in the line with their group of friends and he has his hand on her waist and it keeps inching lower, just a few more inches and his hand could be slipping under her skir–
“Harry? Hello?” 
Stella catches his attention and he is forced to move his focus back to his colleagues at the table. 
“Huh? Sorry, what did you say?” He clears his throat and keeps his eyes on his half-eaten sandwich in front of him. 
“What’s up with you? You haven’t been your usual self lately.”
“Just… tired. I’m behind with my research and have a bunch of papers to grade before winter break.”
“The joys of being a teacher,” Stella chuckles. “Don’t worry, it’ll get better with time.”
“Really?”
“No,” she smirks at him. “But you’ll care less.”
She soon returns to the conversation at the table and Harry finds himself looking for Y/N again. There’s no trace of her in the line, but he is quick to spot her at a table across the dining hall, sitting beside Dickhead who has an arm around her neck, keeping her close as he wants everyone to know that they are together.
And it irks Harry way more than it probably should. 
It’s been a little over a week since Stella’s Christmas party and also that very heated and very wrong kiss he shared with Y/N. That weekend was like hell, he kept beating himself over and over about it, cursing himself out for being so stupid and reckless. He still has no idea what came over him that let him make out with a student, but he knew one thing for sure: it couldn’t happen again. 
So when Y/N walked into the classroom before his first lecture early on monday he didn’t even let her speak before he got to the point. 
“It shouldn’t have happened. I’m so sorry for it, but I can’t undo it now. I suggest let’s pretend nothing happened, it’s for the absolute best. No one can know about it and it will never happen again.”
She seemed taken aback by his outburst, but after a bit of hesitation she nodded.
“Okay. Nothing happened. It must have been the wine.”
“Yes,” he agreed right away. “We both drank more than we should have and made a mistake.”
She flinched at his last word, but didn’t protest, only nodded, holding her textbooks tighter to her chest. She looked so sad, even disappointed that Harry almost wanted to take back what he just said, but he knew he couldn’t. 
“Are you… okay?” he dared to ask, but when she looked at him again, her eyes told nothing. 
“I’m fine. I’ll see you in class, professor.”
And she was out of the classroom before he could say another word. In class she sat in the back and not even once did she look at him. He knows, because he kept looking at her. 
He’s been trying his best to get her out of his head, but with not much luck. Not when all he can think about is how soft her lips felt against his, how insanely good she tasted mixed with the coldness of the night, how amazingly she fit into his palm, the curve of her neck, back, waist and hips… and how badly he wants to experience it again even though it’s the worst possible idea. 
Harry thinks he is going insane. Genuinely. 
He’s been burying himself into work, but his focus has been all over the place, so it’s been more like a waste of time. He is one of the last ones in the building today as well. Most professors left a long time ago, but the lights in Harry’s tiny office are still on as he is hunched over a stack of papers. When he has to read over the same line for the twentieth time he drops his pen with a tired groan and leans back in his chair. He takes his glasses off and rubs his eyes roughly, until he is practically seeing stars. 
“Fuck,” he huffs, staring at the papers that are still waiting to be graded. Checking the time on his phone he is surprised to see that it’s already past seven.
He stands from his chair and steps to the window. The campus looks quiet at this time, only a few students are walking towards the dorm that’s next to the literature department’s building. It’s a wednesday night, the semester ends next week so some lucky students who have no more exams left in the year have already left for the holidays. Harry will be going home right before Christmas, he plans to use those few days of the break to work on his research in peace. 
From his window he sees part of the parking lot next to the dorm, it’s quite dark there, he almost doesn’t notice the figures sitting in the car closest to him, but a few heartbeats later realization hits him.
It’s Y/N and the dickhead. 
They are pretty far, but Harry can tell that they are in a heated fight, judging from how Y/N is gesticulating. Obviously he can’t hear them, but if he had to guess he would say she is shouting, from what he can see. 
For a moment he tells him to just ignore the scene, it’s none of anyone else’s business, let alone his. But when he sees the asshole slap his hands against the wheel several times, making Y/N jump, Harry is moving before he could second guess his actions. 
He practically sprints down that stairs, already trying to figure out how he’ll interject without appearing like a creep, but he forgets all his plans when he is marching towards the parking lot and sees the scene unfold from up close. 
At some point they must have gotten out of the car, because Harry catches the dickhead getting back into the driving seat, Y/N is crying and tries to stop him from shutting the door, but he swings it with such force that she stumbles forward, holding onto the handle. When Harry sees her almost fall to the asphalt he starts running, just as the car comes to life and he drives away so fast, he almost runs over Y/N’s feet. 
“Fuck you, Charlie! Fuck you!” She screams after the car, tears streaming down her cheeks. 
“Hey, hey, hey!” Harry rushes over to her, grabs her by her shoulders and turns her away from the direction of the car. “Hey, what happened?”
She is gasping for air from the crying as she wraps her arms around her, those beautiful eyes that are usually filled with curiosity are now full of confusion and hurt. 
“Y/N, look at me,” he begs and she hiccups a few times before she finally looks him in the eyes. 
“H-Harry?”
He ignores how good it feels to hear her call him by his first name again and tries to focus on the situation.
“Yeah. Let’s get inside, okay? It’s freezing cold.”
She nods and lets him steer her towards the building and up to his office. By the time she sits in the old armchair in the corner of his office she has stopped sobbing, but her expression looks just as miserable as before. 
“I’ll make you a tea. Do you like tea?” he asks, stepping over to the tiny side table where he keeps his kettle and tiny tea collection with two mugs. She nods and he is quick to turn on the kettle. He grabs a chamomile filter and drops it into one of the mugs and while the water boils he hands her a box of tissues that she accepts with a quietly murmured thank you. 
When the tea is done he hands her the mug and sits in his chair, unsure what to say. He definitely did not plan to have her in his office anytime soon and definitely not like this. 
“Go on, lecture me about being with him,” she says at last, staring into the mug in her hands. 
“I wasn’t planning on it.”
“But you’d be right.” She looks up at him, eyes still red from the crying. 
“Why did you go back to him?” he softly asks, not wanting to make her feel even worse. 
“I don’t know,” she shrugs, looking away again. “He could be convincing, I guess.”
“Hope you won’t believe him after this.”
“No,” she chuckles bitterly before taking a sip from the tea, leaning back in the armchair. “Not even the sex will convince me to go back to him.”
Harry’s muscles jump at her words. Not because he is such a prude, but because instantly he is thinking about sex… and her… and his body reacts involuntarily. Clearing his throat he crosses his legs and looks anywhere but at her.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that,” she chuckles softly, but she doesn’t seem sorry at all. 
“No, I… um…” Harry has no idea what to say. This feels like such an impossible situation, he is definitely walking on eggshells here and the fact that he is semi-hard does not help his case. 
While he is looking for the right words she places her mug to his desk and crosses her legs, a curious look playing in her eyes as she is looking at him. She appears calm and confident suddenly, like she wasn’t sobbing ten minutes ago. 
“I lied,” she then speaks up.
“About what?”
“I know why I went back to him.”
“Oh. Okay, why did you?”
She holds his gaze for one… two… three seconds before her lips part, then she hesitates for one more moment before answering. 
“Because I couldn’t go to you.”
A shiver runs down his spine at her words, his body is betraying him already, but he hangs onto the last bit of his rationality.
“Y/N, don’t.”
“Don’t what? Don’t tell the truth?”
“We agreed that we are not talking about it again.”
“I’m not talking about that night. I’m talking about how badly I’ve been wanting you, but knowing I can’t have you I went back to Charlie even though I knew I shouldn’t have.” 
“Y/N…” His mouth is dry and he feels ridiculously hot even though the heating hasn’t been working too well lately in his office. He is clawing at the arms of his chair, trying to keep the remains of his cool, though it feels like he is hanging on a thread.
“I won’t do anything about it, don’t worry. And I won’t bring it up again.” She sounds different this time, the confidence has turned into what feels like disappointment and it lurches something in Harry’s gut. 
Standing she smoothes her clothes before looking at Harry, a tiny sliver of expectancy glistening in her eyes. 
“Thanks for the tea. I better get going.”
She is already moving towards the door when Harry jumps to his feet, entirely lost about what to think, do or say. He strides after her and just when she is about to reach for the knob, he grabs her other hand, stopping her mid action. 
But he has no idea why he just did that. His rationality is screaming at him, but with each passing moment he spends holding her hand, the noise gets farther and farther away until it’s lost somewhere in the back of his mind. 
Slowly, she turns her head, eyes taking in the sight of their touching hands before her gaze meets his. He instantly stumbles back, letting go of her like she was on fire, but she doesn’t seem surprised. Instead, she turns around and just stands there, with a calm, but determined look on her face. 
“Careful professor,” she then speaks up. “I might take your actions as a hint.”
“A hint…” he breathes out, almost mesmerized with her, he is convinced she’s put a spell on him, because he can’t move or think straight, he just keeps staring at her.
“Yes, a hint,” she nods shortly. “That you want me just as much as I want you.”
He swallows down a moan that almost slips through his lips at her words. His whole body is burning for her, palms sweating and itching to touch her and he can almost taste her on his tongue again, desperate to pick up from where they left off not long ago. 
The tiniest smirk tugs on the corners of her mouth when she sees just how much he is struggling and she takes it as her queue to push her luck just a bit further. She takes a step closer to him, but still leaves some space between them, wanting him to close those last inches. 
“You know you can have me.” She cocks her head to the side, blinking up at him innocently. “Right here, on your desk or in that armchair. I want to be your good girl and take whatever you give me.”
“Stop it,” he manages to breathe out, but all his strength is gone, it sounds more like a plea rather than an order. 
“What if I don’t?” she sassily questions. “Will you punish me?”
Harry whimpers. They both know he is close to breaking and she is not stepping down now and she’s determined to push him over the edge. Slowly she reaches up, drags a finger across her lips before moving then down, tugging at her shirt at her chest, revealing more of the exposed skin there, then she starts playing with the top button, all while keeping her eyes focused on him. He sucks on his breath, his gaze keeps switching between her eyes and what her fingers are doing. 
Then it pops open, revealing the delicious swell of her breasts and a bit of the lacy bra as well and he knows he is gone. 
“Close the curtain,” he simply orders and a sudden rush of excitement washes over her as she quickly moves across the room, drawing the curtains on the window and turning around she is expecting him to be in the same spot, but to her surprise he is right there and before she could say a word, his lips crash down on hers with such force she would have fallen back if he didn’t already have an arm around her waist. 
His other hand is quick to find its way to her throat first, then to her jaw, angling her head perfectly so he can devour her. 
He spins them around and she gasps when her ass meets the edge of his desk, still kissing her he pushes forward, blindly tossing everything on the desk aside to make room, something clatters as it falls to the ground but neither of them cares to even look. His hands are on the back of her legs and he helps her up until she is sitting on top of the desk. 
She eagerly opens her thighs and circles her legs around his hips, pulling him closer and when she feels just how hard he already is, pushing against her clothed center, she can’t help but moan at the sensation. 
“It’s a one time thing,” he pants when her fingers start to work on his shirt and his hands find the button of her jeans. 
“Sure,” she breathes out smiling.
“Just to get it out of our system.”
“Of course,” she nods eagerly, and a moment later she is tugging his shirt off his shoulders. 
Buttons come undone, clothes are thrown across the room and soon enough all of his focus is on her naked chest, his hands exploring the tender, heated skin before his head dips down and his mouth meets her hardened nipples. 
“Oh fuck,” she moans, head falling back as she has an arm around his shoulders, the other one planted behind her on the desk. All while his hands are tugging down her jeans, finally giving him the chance to touch her inner thighs, exploring the warmth and softness he’s been fantasizing about for so long. 
He gently bites on one of her nipples, making her back arch, burying his face between her breasts before he leans back to get rid of her jeans. She has a moment to admire his naked torso, all the tattoos he’s been hiding under his clothes, his pants are hanging around his knees and his erection is throbbing through the fabric of his underwear. She can’t help but smile at the sight, it’s surely one she’ll remember forever.
When her jeans are discarded on the floor he plants his hands on her thighs and pushes them wide open, revealing her drenched panties. He brings his thumb over the wet fabric, lazily drags it over her clit, making her tremble under his touch. Then keeping eye contact with her he pulls his chair under him, sits down and rolls closer so his face is perfectly lined up with her. With his eyes still locked on hers, he leans forward, moves her panties to the side and places a sloppy, open mouthed kiss to her throbbing clit, making her moan so loud, he digs his fingers into her thighs pulling back. 
“You need to be quiet,” he warns her and she just eagerly nods, watching him take her underwear off completely and go back to where he was a moment ago. 
Harry drinks up her taste, he licks, kisses and sucks on the right spots, making her see stars as her orgasm is building up. When she feels two of his fingers slip into her she grabs a handful of his hair, tugging on it. 
But right when she is about to tip over the edge he pulls back, leaving her in a heaving mess. Reaching into one of his drawers he grabs a condom and standing up he watches her lying on his desk, chest rapidly rising and falling while he rolls the condom on. 
To his surprise, she gets up and jumps off the desk, taking the initiative by pushing him down back into the chair and straddling his lap. His hands are quick to move to her ass as his cock wedges between her drenched folds. He hisses when she starts rolling her hips, making them both even more feral for what’s about to come. 
She leans forward and kisses him, her hand reaching down between them until it finds his cock. She gives him a few lazy strokes to which he hums lowly into her mouth. Then she stops her kisses, lips still brushing against his, eyes meeting again as she lifts herself up just enough to angle him underneath her and then slowly she eases down, letting him enter her inch by inch until she is filled entirely. She gasps at the feeling of her walls stretching around him and they both stop for a few moments, just savoring how perfectly they fit together. 
She plants both her hands to the base of his neck, kisses him again and starts moving her hips. 
“Fuck, Y/N, you feel so good,” he groans, locking his arms around her, fingers digging into her naked back and side as she starts to slowly pick up her pace, bouncing on him. 
When he starts thrusting upwards, meeting her movements, her head rolls back from how deep she feels him inside her, his tip reaching the perfect spot. 
“Yes, right there!” she gasps as he buries his head in her neck, kissing and sucking on the soft skin while keeping his rhythm. “I’m so close,” she breathes out, her hands raking through his messy hair. 
Wanting even more friction she adjusts herself and then starts moving faster and rougher, aching for the release. She looks down, her eyes meet his gaze and she just knows he is as close as she is. 
“Harry,” she moans and hearing his name fall from her lips is what pushes him over the edge.
Grunting, his thrusts get rougher and fall out of their fast pace, he pushes into her over and over again as he fills the condom and watching him fall apart helps her let go as well. He feels her walls tighten around him while he is still riding out the afterwaves of his own orgasm, her mouth hangs open, nails digging into his shoulders so harshly they surely leave marks. 
Then they both slowly come off their high and she leans forward, capturing his lips in a much softer kiss than the ones they’ve shared just minutes ago. He gladly returns, their lips melt together and his fingers gently roam her naked back while he is still inside her. 
They’re quiet when she moves off him and grabs a few tissues to clean herself up while he discards the condom. The clothes are picked up from the floor one by one and a sense of unsureness settles between them as they both get dressed. 
She was the only thing on his mind just five minutes ago, but now that the sex haze is gone, his thoughts start racing. What did he do? What will happen now? This shouldn’t have happened but still, he wants to do it again and again and again. 
As if she knew he was panicking inside, she steps to him, takes his face in her hands and pulls him into a long, passionate kiss that instantly makes him forget about everything else. 
“Don’t overthink it,” she whispers against his lips. “We’re adults.”
“I’m your teacher,” he hums.
“The semester is almost over. Grade my last paper and we’re done,” she simply says with very little care about his current status. But he is not that sold on it just yet, hesitation and worry is all over his face. “Did you not want it?”
“You know how much I wanted it,” he admits defeatedly. 
“Great. I wanted it too. And I want it again. So I’ll come by tomorrow again. You’ll bend me over that desk after I had your cock in my mouth, then tell me what grade I’m getting for the semester and we do it again after that.”
He is already feeling himself getting hard again. Deep down he knows he should say no, but he has no will left to fight with himself anymore. So all he does is nod and then kiss her. 
“I’ll see you tomorrow, professor.” She grabs her coat from the floor and then walks out of his office like nothing happened. 
Harry falls into his chair and assesses the mess on and around his desk, staring at the spot where she was sitting not long ago. He knows he is making his biggest mistake ever, but sinning has never felt this good.
And right now he is willing to take this risk.
Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!
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sleepy-steve · 3 days ago
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pt 2 of steve "dies but doesn't stay dead" harrington and eddie "ferryman of the river styx" munson // 1.9k // pt 1 ♡
november 1984
Eddie checks. Of course he checks. Asks around, eventually to his superiors to make sure he wasn’t going to get in trouble for not collecting Steve. It’s uncommon, they tell him, rare, even. But not unheard of. People die briefly and come back to life. Usually only the one time. The answer should be good enough. Should be. Isn’t though. It frustrates Eddie to no end. Months of wondering and ruminating with the firm belief that he won’t get to see Harrington again anytime soon to ask.
He doesn’t have to wait long.
This time Eddie is on the boat. Leaning over the edge, a hand dangling low to the black water, staring at the same patch of grass he first saw Steve sitting. In fairness, all souls appeared in that general area. But Eddie is fixated on the exact spot Steve had shown off his deep chest wounds. It’s for this reason that Eddie jumps three feet into the air when Steve materialises in the same spot again less than a year later.
Sitting up with a rattling gasp and a look of fury on his bashed-in face—again?! Eddie briefly thinks—Steve yells, “Fucking Hargrove!”
“Christ, Harrington!” Eddie shouts, hand over his chest despite the distinct lack of heartbeat. “Could give a guy a bit of warning.”
Steve looks around, eyes surrounded by more dark bruising taking a second to focus on Eddie, chest heaving as he calms down. “Shit, sorry, man.”
They just look at each other for a few long moments, Eddie standing like a frightened cat on his still wobbling boat. He clears his throat to break the silence. “Who, uh. Who’s Hargrove?”
Scoffing, Steve drags a hand down the side of his face, then winces as it passes over bruising. “Douchebag new guy.” He sighs, settling his forearms on his knees. “His sister is friends with some kids I know. Was coming after them, so I…” Trailing off, Steve gestures to his face.
“What? Offered yourself up as a human punching bag and got yourself killed? Again?” Eddie says, trying not to sound too judgemental.
“Yeah, well,” Steve sighs. “I wasn’t just gonna let him beat up a kid. They’ve been through enough without some dickhead coming in and kicking the shit out of them.”
Eddie feels his brows pull together slightly as he sits back down on the bench of the boat, arms crossed over the edge. It’s not like Harrington was the big bully of Hawkins High, but defender of local kids is… new. “Sounds like a grade-A asshole.”
Steve snorts. “He is.”
“Kids were lucky to have you around as their… babysitter?” Eddie offers, cracking a grin.
Steve rolls his eyes, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “Something like that. Probably didn’t need me at all. Stuck around long enough to see her drug him, so they should be fine.”
Humming appreciatively, a thought moves across Eddie’s mind, and he can’t help himself. “…No monsters this time?”
“Ha, ha,” Steve rolls his eyes. “Yeah, I know you don’t believe me, but the monsters did actually come back, which is why I was with those little shits in the first place.” He sounds annoyed, but there’s a fond look behind those bruised eyes. One that gives Eddie a little spark in his chest. “But no, this death was just a regular guy.”
It’s Eddie’s turn to snort. “This death. So casual.”
A full grin breaks out on Steve’s face, contrasting heavily with the bruises and the blood under his nose. “Well, when it’s happened this many times, kinda hard not to view it as like. Just this thing that happens, y’know?”
Eddie doesn’t really know. Of everything he’s learnt about death—through his own and through everyone he’s met since—this thing Steve goes through is beyond him. Incomprehensible. He nods anyway.
“How many times have you died, Harrington?”
“Hmm…” Steve looks up as he thinks for a moment. “This would be… five? Or six?” He shrugs. “I’m not sure if it happened when I was a baby.”
He says it so casually, so matter-of-fact, Eddie almost wants to double-take. It sounds so truthful, he struggles to not believe him. Even though Eddie knows he’s not losing much by believing him, a small part of him still has doubts. And worries for his job. “You gonna get in the boat this time?”
Steve snorts. “Not this time, buddy.” Something jolts in Eddie’s chest at the familiarity. “Maybe next time though.”
“Next time,” Eddie mutters under his breath, shaking his head. “You anticipate dying again?”
“Well, no,” Steve chuckles. “But based on how things have been… and apparently I’m not too careful.” He gestures at his bruised up face, eyes bright with humour between the blues and purples and reds.
“The monsters?” Eddie supplies, just teetering on the edge of sarcasm.
“Monsters, douchebag guys, car wrecks… you just never know.”
The casual tone in which Steve talks about his deaths still has Eddie reeling. It’s been well over a year and Eddie is surrounded by death constantly, and he still struggles to think about his own. Tells himself he’d rather not dwell, which is true, but it also hurts. He shakes it off, shifting his focus to the bruised and beaten boy in front of him.
“Or… you could save yourself the trouble, and get in the boat now?” Eddie gestures down at his boat with a little hand flair. He’s joking. Mostly. If Steve did have the chance to go back to the land of the living, Eddie didn’t want to take that away from him. Not that he thought Steve was getting that chance. Not completely, anyway.
“Wish I could, but I don’t make the rules.” Steve grins at him, like they’re sharing a secret. And they kind of were. Eddie wasn’t sure how many people knew about Steve’s semi-regular dances with death.
“And since when have you ever been one to stick to the rules?” Eddie asks, propping his arm up and resting his chin on his palm. Looking at the boy on the grass. His hair is longer this time.
Steve laughs, head tilted back. “Fair point. But if you want me on that boat, you’re gonna have to come over here and drag me onto it.” He raises a brow at Eddie in challenge.
Eddie rolls his eyes. “Wish I could, but I don’t make the rules.” He repeats Steve’s words back at him, mocking him.
“Well, well, well,” Steve says, tone playful. “Look who’s being a stickler for rules now.”
“I know,” Eddie drags it out, struggling to hold back his smile. “Crazy, huh? Divine punishment for being born the son of a criminal, I guess.” Eddie’s gaze drops down to the black water beneath him.
Steve scoffs at him. “Like you never smoked pot or broke speeding laws in that van of yours.” 
Eyes widening before he can stop them, Eddie’s shocked Steve even knows about the van. Shocked that Steve knows anything about him at all. What world is he in where the king of Hawkins High knows about Eddie and his beat up old van? Even being in the grade below him, Steve had a popularity pull that was noticed by those in Eddie’s grade. Confusion and surprise subsiding, Eddie finds himself leaning forward even further.
“Coming from you?” Eddie challenges back. “We all know about the famous Harrington ragers, Mister Keg King.”
The title makes Steve roll his eyes. “Never saw you at one.”
It was true. Eddie hadn’t attended any of the parties, for fear of his reputation making him a target. He drops his gaze again. “Didn’t think I’d be welcome there.”
Steve doesn’t respond, and the silence grows between them. They haven’t moved, but Eddie feels further away from him. Like the weird little familiarity they’d developed was being forcefully shoved apart. Eddie doesn’t look up to see Steve’s reaction. Doesn’t want the pity.
“So, you really can’t get out of the boat?” Steve breaks the silence with a complete topic change.
“Nope,” Eddie responds, popping the P. “She’s my new baby, now that I don’t have my van.” He pats the side of the boat with his free hand.
Steve shifts forward until he’s sitting as close as he can to the water’s edge without getting wet. Close enough for Eddie to see the broken capillaries under his skin and the little green flecks in his eyes. He takes in the cuts on Steve’s jaw and forehead, the two black eyes, the blood under his nose. The way his knuckles are bruised and bloodied to match. Something in Eddie feels oddly… protective. Like he wants to jump in front of anything that might hurt this guy he doesn’t even really know that well.
“Change your mind about getting in the boat?” Eddie asks, voice low, now that Steve is so close.
“No,” Steve huffs a laugh. “But you can’t move, so I figured I should.”
“Just that desperate to be close to me, are you?” It slips out of Eddie’s mouth before he can think about it. And Eddie wants to punch himself in the face over it.
But to his surprise, Steve doesn’t recoil away or yell at him. Instead, he laughs softly, cheeks faintly pink beneath the bruising. “What can I say? The allure of your… baby…” He says it with a smirk. “Very tempting.”
Taken aback by Steve’s… flirting is the only word to describe it, but that can’t be right, Eddie immediately switches to joke mode. He won’t entertain the idea that Steve Harrington was honest-to-god flirting with him. He won’t.
“I’ll get you into this boat one day, Harrington. Mark my words.” 
He knocks on the edge of the boat twice before smoothing his hand over the wood. Watches as Steve’s eyes follow his hand, seemingly fixated on it. Eddie briefly wonders what would happen if he touched Steve. Would that commit Steve to being stuck here? Commit him to moving on? Would Eddie even be able to feel him?
Gaze shifting back to Eddie’s face, a smile grows on Steve’s face. “Maybe. One day.” He shrugs, like his eventual death is a fun, whimsical topic.
Eddie is about to comment on Steve’s tone, but before he can, Steve’s head whips to the side, hearing something Eddie can’t. Just like last time.
Unlike last time, Steve doesn’t get up right away. “Looks like my time’s up.”
“How do you know?” Eddie is so curious, he can’t help but ask.
“I can hear—” Steve waves vaguely around his ear. “—stuff. From where I am. The kids are yelling. Hope they’re not too freaked out.”
“Guess you better get back then,” Eddie says, trying to hide his disappointment.
“Yep.” Steve pulls himself up into a standing position, now suddenly looking down at Eddie, who leans back on instinct, shifting back on the boat bench. “But I’ll see you next time.”
“I’ll be here.” Eddie gestures at the boat, palm up. Like he has anywhere else to go. “See ya, Harrington. Stay away from monsters.”
“I’ll try,” Steve laughs, walking backwards on the grass. Keeping his eyes on Eddie as he retreats.
“Try not to get that pretty face bashed in again,” Eddie calls after Steve’s already fading form, grinning wide.
Steve just laughs, the sound of it echoing even after his body disappears from Eddie’s sight.
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hvbris · 9 hours ago
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𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐎 & 𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐓 @multipleoccupancy
"Why... why did you stop working together after Sloane's attack?" Violet didn't really know, of course, that they used to be a close-knit cell, and that Sloane's betrayal had left invisible scars on Samantha, too.
"I didn't know Delta Green had an HR department." That seemed very... corporate of them. "What does she do?" It was a relief to know that her dad could call Samantha if needed, as this week was proof that she would be there for him. But it would have been much more reassuring to know she was out there on the field with him. Violet remembered how fiercely Samantha had protected him, in that abandoned parking lot.
She managed a little smile. "I don't mind the lectures," she explained, "in fact, I was kind of hoping you were going to lecture me today." It would have been the final proof that he was feeling better. "But I like this conversation better. What else did you want to tell me? About the Program, and... your work as an agent?" She wanted to know everything he was willing to tell her. It was a part of his life he usually never revealed. And she always worried so much, whenever he left on a "work trip."
Her dad's reassurance widened her smile a little bit, it even brought a slight flush of pink to her cheeks. "Thank you, Dad." But she was still taking his warning very seriously. "I won't tell anyone else," she promised, "and I'll be careful, I won't talk about it on the phone." The last thing she wanted was for people to think she was a cultist, or that she worshipped the Horned One. The thought alone made her nauseous.
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"I understand. And... you know, Dad, I don't want to work for them anymore." Violet suddenly realized she hadn't told him yet, until now. "After meetin' Agent Davidson, and seeing what the Program did to you... I don't want to work for an organization like that. I know their goal is noble, but... I don't think the greater good justifies treating people like this. They tricked you and hurt you when they could have just asked you instead. You... you told me you wanted to open a special FBI branch, to fight monsters. I know you would have accepted if they had just asked."
"She used to be," he answered honestly, "We were together for a very long time and we both climbed through the ranks as we went. It wasn't until after Sloane tried to sacrifice me the first time that we didn't really work together much and she got herself a job in HR." Theo almost lamented, he missed working with Samantha and he wished he could have a simple desk job in Delta Green. But he was a walking, talking threat magnet and he understood why that couldn't be. He realised what she was checking though and he was sure to add on, "She's only ever a phone call away." He smiled a little to himself, so grateful for her friendship.
"Thank you," he said of her reassurance she would tell him, even if it had worries with it. "I've seen and been through a lot, I can probably handle it, but if an episode is triggered, that's for me to deal with. I'd rather know what's happening and take that risk." It might not be the best way of doing things but at least Violet could have that support and if he needed it, he could get it through Delta Green. "I can go to official channels if I need help, you have me and while I will always do my best for you, you can and should be able to rely on me to be there for you... lectures and all."
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She asked about the organisation finding out about what The Horned One had done to her and potentially trying to use it or view her as an unnatural threat that needed to be terminated. He thought of the many cultist agents in his past. "There is not an evil, cultist or otherwise bone in your body," he told her gently. "I don't recommend revealing what's happening to anyone else, but you know what cultists are like, you've met enough of them." He tried to reassure her as best he could but she was right to be wary of Delta Green. "Just keep it to yourself, ask for help from me or Samantha and only face to face with us somewhere like here or outside where no one can listen in."
He worried he was scaring her though, he knew from an outsider's perspective what it was he would think and do but he supposed in that sense he could protect her from anyone like him too. "Do you understand why it is I don't want you working for them? Even in a role you think you want, it's not something you might get." He knew she wanted to build traps but Delta Green didn't work like that very often, she needed someone to show what she could do and that came in trial and error in field work, unless he or Samantha could pull strings.
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cinnamorollcrybaby · 16 hours ago
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i loved the dom nanami headcanons, can you do one with shiu?🤍
The way Shiu obviously doms you
Tags: Shiu x fem!Reader, dom!Shiu, sub!Reader, dom/sub relationship, aspects of bdsm, daddy kink, NO age regression, nsfw, mdni
An: yeahhh nanami is very subtle, but shiu is quite obvious in his domming antics
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• Shiu’s the type of man to cook for you nightly. He’ll employ your help with smaller tasks, but he’s the head chef in the kitchen: showing you how to do basic tasks.
• He’s the one in charge, but like…. is he? When you give him those puppy dog eyes, Shiu will bend over backwards to give you the world and more. He lives life by making sure you don’t get too big for your britches and by the saying, “happy wife; happy life.”
• He worships the ground you walk on. You’re his princess. Why wouldn’t he?
• If you’re shoes are untied, Shiu’s the type to put his cigarette in his mouth, get down on his knees, put your foot on one of his legs as he ties it back for you.
• Unlike Nanami, Shiu will tell you what you can and can’t wear. He’ll honestly pick out your clothes for you on most days, dressing you up like his little doll.
• Loves to bathe you along with simple tasks of taking care of you like brushing/styling your hair. Although, usually bath time turns into something more as you can’t handle when his hands are tenderly rubbing and massaging all over you.
• Shiu does not care where you two are. If you’re acting in a way that could potentially be troublesome, he’ll turn his attention to you and give you that stern but caring. “No.” or “You better start acting right.”
• A little bit condescending when he’s asserting his dominance over you. “Don’t you think daddy knows what’s best for you?”
• He’s the type to say, “Because daddy said so.” When you’re questioning why you can’t do something.
• Shiu’s favorite form of punishment for his sweet sub is spanking your bottom. When he catches you misbehaving or mouthing off, it only takes a few swats from his hand to make you act right.
• Don’t get him started on the rare times he has to bend you over his lap, pull your panties down, and leave handprints on your ass. You also better be counting and saying thank you after each one.
• HATES when you interact with Toji. He tries to keep you separated from his work, but you’ve met Toji on a couple occasions. Shiu gets extra handsy when Toji’s around, clearly staking his claim on you in any way he can. If he didn’t want Toji seeing how pretty you look when you come undone, he would’ve already finger fucked you in front of him.
• Shiu’s the king of mixing praise with degradation. “Yeaahh, you like when daddy treats you like a slut? Mmm, go on. Show daddy just how much you can take. Fuuuuck. Good girl.”
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gotta-winwin · 2 days ago
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OT13 Reaction -- to you showing up at their work
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SCOUPS: his first instinct is that something is wrong. rushes up to you with worry in his eyes and asks if everything is okay. brightens into a big smile when you tell him you just wanted to see him! excuses himself from practice to join you for lunch before dropping you back home. it hurts that he has to leave you to go back to work but your surprise has rejuvenated him.
JEONGHAN: smirks to hide how unbelievably happy he is to see you. makes fun of you, asking if you really missed him that much?? it's only noon, baby. miss me already? gets flustered when you say yes. pulls you into whatever shenanigan he's cooking up with the members.
JOSHUA: is a little shy to interact with you properly in front of the members. whines when they make fun of him for looking at you with such loving eyes. pulls you to the side to express how grateful he is that you came to surprise him at work.
JUN: initially upset he even had to work on a day off, your presence cheered him up so much! feels his energy coming up just from seeing you. drags you over to meet his members, bragging about how he has a wonderful gf and they do not.
HOSHI: cannot stop looking at you during practice. it's the only time the other members see him distracted during work, esp during dancing. he just can't help it - how can he work when you're right there?? rushes to you immediately once break is called.
WONWOO: is very flustered and caught off guard that you're here. chides you for making the trip over here, saying you could've just called him if you missed him sm. shows his appreciation through actions, leaving practice early to show you around, taking you out on a date after.
WOOZI: he's so in the zone he doesn't notice you've entered his studio until your arms are around him. flinches thinking you're Hoshi coming to annoy him, but melts into your arms once he realizes its you. apologizes that he still has to finish a couple more songs, orders you food and dessert so you can be comfy while waiting. gets inspiration for his lyrics just by seeing you sit there.
THE8: is so happy you're here. although he tries his best keeping his cool in front of his members, he can't help but giggle every time he sees you're acc here. death stares every member that tries bothering you, claiming that you're here for him, not them. (¬⤙¬ )
MINGYU: eats up all the attention. brags to his members openly about how lucky he is that he has a girlfriend who surprises him at work! brags even more when you pull out food you ordered for them all. nags until all the members thank you profusely, making you flush under the amount of attention.
DK: screeches when he sees you within company walls. you look so out of place here! but so pretty! AH! his brain fries a bit, clinging onto you as he tells you he never expected you to show up at his work. is sosososo excited to show you exactly what he does as an idol.
SEUNGKWAN: becomes the coolest idol persona ever the moment he sees you're here. he's trying his hardest to impress you like - yes bby this is how i usually am at work, so cool right? - introduces you to EVERYONE possible. knocking on enhypen's door? yes. showing you to the manager? yes. the building janitor? you're saying hi to him too.
VERNON: his face turns SO red the moment the members point out you're here. gets all shy (the 218 bro vlive with DK) and hides behind his jacket/beanie. cannot say more than 5 words to you the entire time, knowing he'll malfunction and forget about working. expresses how grateful and loved he feels once you guys gets home.
DINO: solidifies in his mind that he IS the main character. parades you around to show everyone he has a gf!! clings onto you the whole time - basically gets nothing done the whole day. it's like he can't be more than 2 feet away from you or he'll die. you end up getting a text for S.Coups telling you you can't come back or else Dino will never get anything done.
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deathbxnny · 3 days ago
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May I request some headcanons about Victor, selika, Vander and Vi about caring and being with a S/O with ADHD.
Please and thank you
Arcane characters with an s/o that has ADHD. | Viktor, Sevika, Vander and Vi
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Thank you for your request, and I hope you'll enjoy this!<3
Content: No spoilers for season 2, season 1 Viktor, established romantic relationships, fluff, sfw
Reader has no set pronouns.
((Not proofread))
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》VIKTOR
He was the first to notice and accommodate to your ADHD, mainly as he knew what it's like to live with something that makes life a little harder in general.
Viktor is very patient and gentle with you when you're having a hard time focusing on tasks or are procrastinating on projects. He understands it just fine and works with you to find strategies that make everything a bit easier. Whether it's studying with you or helping you out on research papers, you both spend a lot of time together, to say the least.
You two enjoy working on your own things in eachothers presence, as it helps you get over your lack of motivation and gives you a chance to talk his ear off freely. Thankfully, he's good at multitasking when it comes to you. Some may think your talking is excessive, but he finds it cute.
Whenever you're a bit more fidgety than usual, he'll hold your hand or give you a reassuring smile, yet doesn't stop your body from regulating itself naturally.
Viktor takes your diagnosis as a simple fact, nothing that defines or undermines your ability to be his s/o. If you need a little help, then he's very clearly okay with that.
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》SEVIKA
She doesn't initially understand the concept of ADHD and doesn't care much about it either. Sure, she gets that it affects your day to day life, but she was going to help you out with anything either way even without the diagnosis. So, in other words, she's ready to learn and do as you please.
Your fidgety nature was something she definitely had to get used to, as she mistook it as fear or nervousness rather often. This typically meant that she'll ask you if you're alright a lot or if there was someone bothering you. Over time, she learns to look past it and see it as a natural part of you. If you can't sit still, then she'll let you roam around whilst her eyes watch you closely.
Your endless ramblings and deep interests about the most nichest topics also needed some time for her, but what got her the most was your procrastination issues. She did get not want to do things at all, but she would still attempt to make work as fun as possible in her own way. She'll accompany you everywhere and take care of the heavy lifting.
When she said that she was loyal, she was definitely not kidding around. Your ADHD changes nothing about the way she views you, and so she doesn't make a big deal out of it either.
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》VANDER
Probably the most patient and understanding of your ADHD and its symptoms by far. He sees them as a part of you in a good way and simply accepts them as they are.
Whenever you procrastinate on chores or work, he'll try and make it more enjoyable by either helping out or promising you a nice treat after. If it's really bad, though, he'll just do things himself to not stress you out about them too much.
He's the same with your lack of focus, although he sometimes does get concerned about you zoning out when things get serious. Vander will still find his own innovative ideas on making you focus when he needs you to.
He loves listening to you talk to him about the most random things possible, mainly as it shows him that you're comfortable enough with the care he gives you. He also just enjoys weighing in with his own opinions about the many various topics you bring forth at rapid speed.
Either way, he skillfully navigates your diagnosis with ease and doesn't ever let you feel like you're burdening him with it.
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》VI
Well, she certainly may have outlandish ideas at times when it comes to working with your ADHD, but she definitely at least has the spirit for it!
Your natural fidgeting and inability to stay still gets interpreted in you just needing to power yourself out. This makes you often find yourself in front of a punching bag with an excited Vi telling you to go ahead and let it alllll out. Whether it works or not is up to you, but you appreciate the effort even after you had explain it wasn't that easy.
Vi will make it her mission to help you out on projects or with work whenever the procrastination gets too bad. She'll also help you out with simpler tasks when she can but will otherwise try to make things fun, at least.
You two enjoy rambling away with each other, and it is her favorite thing. You're both bad at focusing on one topic at a time, so your talks can go on for hours, which she loves very much.
Your diagnosis is just a part of you that she very much loves, even when it gets difficult at times. She never wants you to feel left out or liked less because of it and does her best to never let you think that.
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theactualsunshinechild · 2 days ago
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Seeing this post always immediately reminds me of a fun story from early on in my relationship that my partner and I affectionately refer to as
The Can Opener Incident
This was back in my college days. That semester I was living in a dorm that was more like a collection of small apartments on the very fringes of campus territory. My partner had come over to spend the night at my dormroom, and we were going about making some pasta in the little kitchenette. The pasta was already fully cooked and strained when we suddenly encountered a problem:
The canned pasta sauce I had bought was not a pop top, and rummaging around the kitchen for a can opener revealed that I had neglected to bring one.
Not one to settle for miserable, dry pasta on a cozy home date, I ran over to the dorm room next door and asked to borrow a can opener. They're a little startled to find someone knocking on their door at 9 PM, but they let me borrow it with no resistance. Upon bringing it back is when the problems truly began.
You see, all of my life I had used a can opener which you latched to the side of the can and twisted the knob to make the sharp ring cut into the top of the can vertically, parallel to the side of the can. This one looked similar, all the right parts were in the right places, so I gave it a shot... but nothing happened. My partner comes up and tells me I'm using it wrong, and I think to myself "oh, okay, so maybe he's used this kind of can opener before, I'll let him at it," and I hand it off to him.
The can opener my partner has used his whole life is the kind that you latch on to the TOP of the can, so instead of holding the handle at the side, you're holding it horizontally over the top of the can. I didn't know that kind of can opener even existed, so when he tried using this one his way, I looked at him like he was insane. This look quickly intensified as this method also didn't work. Things rapidly went downhill from there. He defensively explained the way his can opener at home worked, and I started pointing to the structure of the can opener and arguing why this one wouldn't work that way. We're a little frustrated, but it's nothing some pasta can't fix, so I propose I simply go over next door to the people who I borrowed the can opener from and ask them how to use it.
As I reached over to take it from him, he held it out of my reach.
"No! I'll figure it out myself!" He announced.
"What? Why? It's easier to just ask the owner," I argue, jumping around trying to get at the items.
"Because I can figure it out!"
Okay. Fine. I guess he wants to solve this like some kind of puzzle for enrichment. I give up and I wait. The fiddling begins. I'm standing there watching him try increasingly improbable methods of getting that thing to work over and over. The pasta is getting cold. He's testing methods that have already proven not to work, trying new methods that physically couldn't work, then trying the ones that have already failed us all over again. My stomach growls.
"We should really just ask," I grumble, hungry and frustrated.
"No, I've got this."
He does not fucking got this. I want my goddamn food and I do not have time for this puzzle solving.
"Give it here."
"No."
"I'm just gonna take it to the owners and ask them to show us how to use it, you can come with."
"No! I want to figure out out myself!!"
"And I want my food god fucking damn it!!"
This went on for a bit. The pasta was drying to the side of the pot and getting crusty. At some point during this yelling match I got so pissed off that I stormed out of my own apartment into the cold with no coat on.
'I need to make him see reason!' I thought to myself, making my way through the snow. One building over was where two of his friends were rooming together. I knock on their door, boiling with rage. It is 10 PM.
"Hey, can you come over? [Partner] is being completely unreasonable and obstinate over figuring out how a can opener we borrowed works and won't let me take it to the owner to ask. Please help me convince him to hand it over, I'm literally too short to wrestle it from him."
"Alright, let me grab my coat."
We head back over to my place to find my partner Still Messing Around with that godforsaken can opener.
"Let me see that for a second," says his friend, taking his coat off. I experienced a moment of relief, thinking to myself, 'Finally!' as my partner pouted for a second, but relinquished the can opener.
This peaceful glorious relief fizzled out into horror as his friend began to try to open the can the same way I had.
"That's weird. It really looks like it should work this way..." he mutters.
"Try it from the top, that's how my parents' works," my partner suggests.
"No no, that won't work, just give me a second to figure it out."
Oh my fucking god.
I stared blankly, watching them study the can opener and turn the can this way and that, both completely absorbed in finding the solution to this hour long problem. I was going to lose my fucking mind. Perhaps in that moment I really did. Shellshocked, I stood, wondering how it had come to this. I just wanted some fucking pasta and a relaxed night in, and instead I've gotten these goddamn STEM majors milling around in my kitchen at 10:25 PM arguing over how to use a can opener that isn't even mine. So I went and did what, in retrospect, I should have done ages ago: I went next door for help.
I can't imagine what my neighbor must have thought of me, showing up over an hour after borrowing their can opener, looking as if something inside of me had died, and, with a hint of desperation in my eyes, begging them tearfully to come next door and show us all how to use their can opener. Over an hour after borrowing it.
Well, whatever they thought of it all, they did oblige my pleas. Their arrival thankfully broke up the debate, and as all three of us watched intently as hawks over their shoulder, they cracked open that can of pasta for us.
Using it the exact same way I had tried at the start of it all.
It was just dull.
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"I don't need a shopping list; with effort, I will remember that I need this item"
Okay but will you be able to remember that you already bought it? Because apparently I can't.
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mcrveilles · 2 days ago
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just this once // ln4
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still overwhelmed, still can't believe this this is getting to much attention 😭 ❤️🫶 THANK YOU FOR YOUR FEEDBACK AND YOUR RESPONSES I LOVE EVERY BIT OF IT
also why are my WORDS LIMITED???? I want to write MORE wtf tumblr
word count: 3.7k with some extras in the form of social media posts warnings: casual intimacy themes, secrecy, conflicts of loyalty, romantic tension and suggestive content includes: friends to lovers, fluff, best friends little sister, brothers best friend summary: after things cooled down for a little while, you have to face lando and your feelings once again... this time with consequences.
tag list: @sltwins @sarx164 @hadesnumber1daughter @fullmugwolffish @willowsnook @sageskiesf1 @f1fantasys @cmleitora @rawr-123s-stuff @leclercdream @chezmardybum @landossainz @cloud-55 @sillyfreakfanparty @harrysdimple05 @mwuaferrari @milkysoop
PART FOUR/2 previous part - next part
The sun dips low over the sky, painting it in shades of amber and rose as you finish getting ready. You’ve been pacing your hotel room for the last twenty minutes, debating whether you should even go to this dinner. Max made it sound casual, just friends and some of Lando’s crew, but the way your stomach twists tells you it’s anything but simple.
Since Monaco, things with Lando have been... complicated. He stayed over after Qualifying, the two of you wrapped in an unspoken agreement to keep things platonic. But nothing about the way he looked at you, the way his presence filled your space, felt friendly. Then there was the race—his P4 finish—and the small get-together afterward, where you both acted like nothing had happened. Since then, his schedule’s relentless pace kept you apart, exchanging only a few texts that danced around anything real. Just keeping in touch.
And now, this dinner.
You change into your favorite outfit, something understated but flattering, and force yourself to take a deep breath. It’s just a dinner. You’re friends, you tell yourself.
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yourusername London, United Kingdom
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liked by user01 and others
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The restaurant hums with life as you step inside, trailing Max and Pietra. Warm light glints off polished wood and delicate glassware, and the buzz of conversation wraps around you like a soft blanket. You glance at the private room Max mentioned earlier, feeling your pulse quicken. You know who’s waiting there.
When you walk in, the first person you see is him. He’s tipped back in his chair at the head of the table, laughing at something someone said, his grin so easy and familiar it makes your chest ache. Then his eyes land on you, and for a moment, everything else in the room seems to blur.
“About time,” he says, standing up in one smooth motion. His voice is light, teasing, but there’s something in his gaze that sends a spark down your spine. He greets Max with an effortless handshake-hug, Pietra with a peck on the cheek, and then his attention falls to you.
“Stranger,” he says. “Lando,” you reply, keeping your voice even as you raise an eyebrow. His grin tilts, just a little lopsided, and the look in his eyes feels like a challenge.
The dinner is exactly what you expected—good food, great wine, and laughter that fills the space like it’s been waiting for all of you to show up. Max, seated on your right, is in big-brother mode, making sure you try everything and nudging your glass whenever it’s even close to empty. Across from you, Pietra chats animatedly with one of Lando’s friends, and you smile along, but your attention keeps drifting. Lando is at the far end of the table, surrounded by people who hang onto his every word. He’s effortlessly charismatic, telling some story you can’t quite hear, but that has everyone laughing. Except every now and then, his eyes meet yours, just for a second. It’s like he’s checking in, or maybe daring you to look away first.
You don’t.
When he gets up to refill his drink, he passes behind you, his hand brushing lightly over your shoulder. The touch is so brief, so casual, that no one else notices. But it sends a shiver through you anyway. “Having fun?” he murmurs, his voice low and private, meant just for you. “Loads,” you reply, trying to sound unimpressed even as heat rises to your cheeks.
His chuckle is soft, almost affectionate, before he moves away. You tell yourself to focus, to ignore the way your heart is beating just a little too fast.
Later, the table splits into smaller conversations, and somehow, Lando ends up next to you. Max is too busy laughing at something Pietra said to notice when Lando leans in, his shoulder brushing yours. “This is torture,” he says under his breath, his knee knocking lightly against yours under the table. Your throat goes dry. “What is?” “You. Wearing this dress.” His voice is teasing, but there’s an edge to it that makes you hold your breath.
You don’t know how to respond, and for a moment, you just sit there, the noise of the room fading into the background. Then Max glances over, and Lando straightens, all easy charm again. “What are you two whispering about?” Max asks, his eyes narrowing suspiciously. Lando doesn’t miss a beat. “Just telling your sister she has terrible taste in wine.”
“Hey!” you protest, and the table laughs. Max shakes his head, rolling his eyes. “Don’t listen to him. He drinks that sparkling stuff like it’s water.” The conversation moves on, and you pretend everything is normal, even as Lando’s knee stays pressed against yours under the table. And you don’t move away.
As the laughter around the table flows easily, your own chuckle gets caught in your throat when Lando leans back in his chair, stretching casually, but you don’t miss the way his knee once again brushes against yours under the table. It’s subtle, almost as if he’s testing to see how long he can get away with it without anyone noticing. Your pulse quickens, and you do your best to focus on Pietra, who’s telling an animated story about a mishap at her last work event.
But Lando is… distracting. His words replay in your head on an endless loop—”this is torture”—and you swear you can still feel the ghost of his knee against yours under the table. It’s maddening, really. The ease with which he teases you under Max’s nose, how effortlessly he switches back to joking with the group like he didn’t just upend your entire sense of composure.
You glance his way and catch him smirking, like he knows exactly what he’s doing. His focus shifts back to his drink, but there’s a flicker of something in his expression—playful yet deliberate—that makes it impossible to ignore him. You try to shake it off. You tell yourself that it’s just Lando being Lando: cheeky, teasing, good at making people feel... something. Just like always. Except this doesn’t feel like always, and that’s the problem. You’re trying to focus on the ongoing conversation. Something about summer plans, maybe? You’re not even sure anymore. Lando is leaning back in his chair again now, one arm draped lazily over the back of his seat, looking every bit like someone who hasn’t a care in the world. But he keeps glancing at you when he thinks no one else will notice.
“Alright,” Max announces suddenly, clapping his hands together as if he’s about to make a grand proclamation. “Drinks back at mine?” There’s a chorus of agreement around the table as chairs start scraping against the floor and people gather their things. You hesitate, glancing at your phone like you might have an excuse to slip away. But before you can concoct some half-hearted reason to head back to the hotel, Pietra loops an arm through yours, effectively trapping you. “You’re coming, right?” although she forms it as a question, you know it’s really not.
“I wouldn’t want to miss out,” you reply lightly, smiling at Pietra. Who, satisfied with your response, let’s go of you to join Max again. Your stomach twists again when you see Lando standing by the door, your coat in his hands, waiting like he has all the time in the world. His curls are a little messy, his grin lazy, yet sharp as his eyes meet yours in the dim light. It’s as if he can sense your hesitation and is daring you to pull away. “Come on, stranger,” he says softly, leaning just close enough that his voice feels like it’s wrapping around you. “Can’t bail now.” You narrow your eyes at him, trying to ignore the way your heart jumps at the way he towers ever so slightly over you. “I didn’t say I was bailing.” “No?” His gaze drops briefly to your phone in your hand, then flicks back up to catch yours. “Good,” he says, his voice dipping lower, quieter. “Because I wasn’t going to let you.”
It’s infuriating how easily he gets under your skin. With a huff of mock-annoyance—because genuine annoyance is impossible when he’s looking at you like that—you slide your arms into the coat he’s still holding and step away before the spark between you burns any brighter.
The group spills out into the cool night air, laughter echoing down the cobblestone street as everyone makes their way toward Max’s flat. Pietra loops her arm through yours again, chatting about some new café she wants to try tomorrow for breakfast. The walk to Max’s place is short, but it feels like an eternity with Lando so close behind you in the group. Every step feels charged, like there’s an invisible string stretched taut between the two of you. You try not to think about what he said earlier—or how his knee pressed against yours, or how warm his hand had been on your shoulder at dinner—but it’s useless. He’s inescapable, even when he isn’t touching you.
When you finally reach Max's apartment, everyone else appears calm and carefree. However, you have come to the realization that you can no longer let Lando do this to you. You don’t know if he isn’t aware of the drama it would cause if Max found out or if he just doesn’t care about the consequences—you however do care about the consequences. While never openly spoken about, you know how your brother would feel about this. He’d hate it. Lando is his best friend and you are his little sister. Two things that, frankly, shouldn’t mingle so close. So you make the decision to talk to Lando tonight.
It’s not like you don’t care or that you don’t feel things when you’re around him, but is acting on it really worth the pain it could and would cause?
Eventually everyone is spread across the living room, laughing and reminiscing, the buzz of good drinks and great music keeping the energy alive. You’re perched on the arm of the couch, balancing your drink as Pietra chats animatedly beside you. Across the room, Lando lounges in a chair, looking infuriatingly relaxed, his attention shifting to you every few minutes. It’s subtle, the way his gaze lingers just a fraction too long, but you feel it—like a spark skittering across your skin. You pretend not to notice, focusing on Pietra's story about her disastrous attempt at paddleboarding last summer. But when Lando catches your eye mid-sentence, raising his brow in a silent tease, your stomach flips.
Max comes in from the kitchen, holding a fresh beer, his presence immediately commanding attention. “Alright, whose idea was it to leave me in charge of snacks?” he announces. “I could barely find some crisps, let alone figure out this sweets situation.”
Pietra groans. “Max, it’s literally all in the cupboard. You just have to put it in some bowls.”
“But that’s where you put them!” Max protests, plopping down beside Pietra. His knee bumps yours, but his focus is on his girlfriend, who shakes her head fondly. Lando seizes the moment to move closer, taking the newly vacated spot on the couch next to you. “You okay there?” he murmurs, low enough that only you can hear. “Perfectly fine,” you shoot back, matching his tone with a pointed glare. But your attempt at indifference falters when his knee brushes yours—deliberately, you’re sure. “You’re really gonna keep your distance tonight, are you?” he asks, his voice light but carrying that edge of challenge that makes your heart race. “I am sitting next to you,” you counter, swirling your drink for effect. “You’re just mad I’m busy talking to everyone else tonight.” He chuckles softly, the sound brushing against your skin like velvet. “Give it time.”
Before you can respond, Max’s voice cuts through the room. “What are you two whispering about now?” His tone is joking, but there’s a hint of suspicion there that makes you stiffen. “Just telling your sister she needs to get some updated LN4 merch for the weekend,” Lando says smoothly, leaning back like he doesn’t have a care in the world. “Excuse me?” you retort, feigning outrage. “That stuff is expensive, genius.” The group erupts into laughter, and Max shakes his head, rolling his eyes. “Of course, it is. You should stick to the Quadrant merch anyhow.”
"Hey now," Lando protests with a grin, "I'm hurt, Max. Thought we were friends." The conversation shifts, but you can't shake the tension thrumming beneath your skin. Lando's presence beside you is electric, and you're acutely aware of every subtle movement he makes. You try to focus on the others, laughing at the right moments and nodding along, but your mind keeps drifting back to the man next to you. While Lando's quick thinking may have diffused the situation, it only reinforces your resolve to talk to him. You need to set things straight before they spiral out of control.
As the night wears on, you find yourself growing more and more restless. You've been careful to mingle with everyone, pointedly avoiding extended conversations with Lando. But his presence is a constant, hovering at the edge of your awareness. You catch his eye across the room more than once, and each time, that familiar spark ignites in your chest.
Finally, as the party begins to wind down, you see your chance. Lando slips out onto the balcony, and after a moment's hesitation, you follow. The cool night air is a relief after the warmth of the apartment, and for a moment, you just stand there, letting it wash over you. "Thought you might follow me out here," Lando says softly, not turning around. He's leaning against the railing, his profile illuminated by the city lights below. You take a deep breath, steeling yourself. "Lando, we need to talk."
He turns to face you, his expression unreadable in the dim light. "I was wondering when you'd say that," he says softly, a hint of resignation in his voice. You step closer, careful to keep some distance between you. The city sprawls below, a tapestry of twinkling lights and distant sounds, but your focus narrows to the man in front of you. The air feels thick with unspoken words and simmering tension.
"This... whatever this is," you begin, gesturing vaguely between the two of you, "it needs to stop." Lando's brow furrows, a flash of hurt crossing his features before he schools his expression. "What exactly are you referring to?" he asks, his tone carefully neutral. You take a deep breath, steeling yourself. "The touches. The looks. The... the way you've been pushing boundaries tonight. It's not fair, Lando." Your words hang in the air between you, heavy with implication. Lando's jaw clenches, a muscle twitching as he processes what you've said. For a moment, the only sound is the distant hum of the city below and the muffled laughter from inside.
"Not fair?" Lando repeats, his voice low but charged with emotion. "What's not fair is pretending there's nothing between us." He takes a step closer, his eyes searching yours in the dim light. "Do you really want to ignore this? To act like we don't feel anything when we're around each other?" You bite your lip, trying to ignore the way your heart races at his proximity. "Lando, it's not that simple. Max is your best friend, and he's my brother. We can't just—"
"Can't what?" he interrupts, his voice rising slightly. "Can't be honest about how we feel? Can't take a chance on something that could be amazing?"—"Shh!" you hiss, glancing nervously at the sliding glass door. "Keep your voice down. Do you want everyone to hear?" Lando runs a hand through his curls, frustration evident in every line of his body. "Maybe I do," he says, though he lowers his voice. "Maybe I'm tired of sneaking around, of pretending I don't want to be near you every second we're in the same room."
His words send a shiver down your spine, and you struggle to maintain your composure. "It's not just about us," you argue, your voice rising slightly. "What about Max? He's your best friend, Lando. How do you think he'd react?" Lando's eyes flash with a mix of frustration and determination. "I care about Max, you know I do. But I'm not going to let fear of his reaction dictate my life. Or my feelings." You glance nervously towards the sliding glass door, worried that your raised voices might carry inside. The last thing you need is for someone to come investigate. "Please, keep your voice down," you hiss, even as your own emotions threaten to overwhelm you. "No," Lando says, his tone firm but not unkind. "I'm tired of keeping quiet about this. About us." He takes another step closer, close enough that you can smell his cologne, a mixture of citrus and something woody that makes your head spin. His proximity is intoxicating, and you find yourself swaying towards him almost unconsciously.
"Lando," you breathe, your resolve weakening with every passing second. The city lights dance in his eyes, casting shadows across his face that only enhance his features. You can see the determination there, the longing, and it mirrors the ache in your own chest. But he's not listening. His eyes are locked on yours, dark and intense in the city lights. "I can't keep pretending," he murmurs, his voice low and husky. "Can you?" And before you can answer, before you can even think, he closes the distance between you.
His lips crash against yours, urgent and desperate. For a heartbeat, you're frozen, caught between shock and desire. Then, as if a dam has broken, you're kissing him back with equal fervor. Your hands find their way to his curls, fingers tangling in the soft strands as his arms wrap around your waist, pulling you flush against him. The world narrows to this moment—the taste of him, the warmth of his body, the way your heart threatens to burst from your chest.
It's everything you've been trying to deny, everything you've been afraid to want, distilled into a single, burning instant.
But reality crashes back in like a bucket of ice water, and you jerk away, your eyes wide with panic, breathing hard, your lips tingling and your mind reeling. "We can't," you whisper, your voice trembling. "Lando, we can't do this." Even as every fiber of your being screams to pull him close again. Lando's eyes are wide, his chest heaving as he stares at you, looking as stunned as you feel.
Before he can respond, the sound of the balcony door sliding open makes you both freeze. You take a hasty step back, your heart pounding so loudly you're sure everyone can hear it. Max steps out onto the balcony, his eyes narrowing as he takes in the scene before him. You and Lando are standing suspiciously close, both of you looking flushed and slightly disheveled. The air between you crackles with tension, and for a moment, the only sound is the distant hum of the city below.
"What's going on out here?" Max asks, his tone light but laced with suspicion. His gaze flicks between you and Lando, searching for answers in your expressions. Lando, ever quick on his feet, lets out a low whistle and gestures broadly at the cityscape. "Just admiring the view, mate," he says, his voice only slightly strained. "Can't beat a night like this, can you?" You nod enthusiastically, perhaps a bit too eagerly. "It's gorgeous," you agree, willing your racing heart to slow. "I was just telling Lando how I could stay out here all night."
Max leans against the doorframe, his arms crossed over his chest. The look he gives you is one you've known since childhood—the one that says he's not quite buying what you're selling. "Really?" he drawls. "Because from where I was standing, it looked like you two were having a pretty intense conversation."
You feel your face flush as Max's gaze bores into you, his expression a mixture of concern and growing suspicion. The air on the balcony suddenly feels thick, charged with an uncomfortable tension that even the cool night breeze can't dispel. The city lights twinkle innocently behind you, a stark contrast to the tension crackling in the air. You open your mouth to respond, but the words stick in your throat. Lando shifts beside you, and you can feel the heat radiating off him, a reminder of what just transpired.
"Max," Lando starts, his voice steady despite the circumstances. But Max holds up a hand, silencing him. "Max," Lando repeats, forcing a laugh that sounds hollow even to your ears. "Mate. We were just..."—"No," Max says, his tone sharp. "I want to hear it from my sister." His gaze locks onto you, and suddenly you feel like you're fifteen again, caught sneaking out to a party. Except this is so much worse.
You take a deep breath, willing your voice not to shake. "Max, it's not—"
"Don't," he interrupts, his eyes flashing. "Don't lie to me. I've seen the way you two have been acting all night. The whispers, the looks. And now I find you out here, alone, looking like..." He gestures vaguely at your disheveled appearance. Your stomach drops as you realize the jig is up. Max's eyes narrow as he looks between you and Lando, taking in your flushed faces, the slight dishevelment of Lando's curls where your fingers had been moments ago.
The silence stretches between you, heavy with unspoken truths. You can hear the muffled sounds of the party inside, laughter and music that seems to belong to another world entirely. A cool breeze ruffles your hair, carrying with it the scent of the city and the faintest trace of Lando's cologne.
"How long?" Max asks, his voice barely above a whisper. "How long has this been going on?" You open your mouth to speak, but no words come out. Lando steps forward, his shoulder brushing yours in a gesture that feels both protective and defiant. "Max," he begins, his voice steady despite the tension thrumming through his body. "It's not what you think."
"Oh really?" Max's laugh is bitter, cutting through the night air like a knife. "Because what I think is that my best friend and my sister have been sneaking around behind my back. Am I wrong?"
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dissapointu · 2 days ago
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hiii can i request a fic of the reader having a crush on viktor but theyre too dense to realize that viktor reciprocates the feelings so they try setting him up with someone but viktor only wants them? <3
“Just a bit Dense” (viktor x reader)
You had always been the kind of person who focused on fixing others rather than yourself. Whether it was patching up bruises or tweaking machines, you were always the one in the background, quietly doing what you could. Viktor, however, was the one constant in your life, the one person whose intelligence and determination captivated you. He was kind, brilliant, and compassionate, and he had always taken the time to notice the small things about you.
But you didn’t see it. You were too thick-headed to realize Viktor’s subtle glances, the small touches that lingered just a bit too long, or the way he leaned toward you during conversations. You were too busy convincing yourself that you were just friends—just colleagues. That’s what you told yourself every time your heart fluttered at his smile, or when your face grew warm after a few too many innocent exchanges.
You noticed, of course, the way others seemed to admire Viktor too. His brilliance, his charm—how could anyone not? And that’s why you had a plan, an idea that had been brewing for weeks: if Viktor was going to be swept off his feet by someone, it might as well be someone who would appreciate him like he deserved.
So, you decided to play matchmaker.
One evening, while you two were working late in the lab, you casually mentioned someone you’d been thinking about. “You know, Viktor, I met someone today,” you said, carefully watching his reaction. “They’re really nice, and I think you’d get along great.”
Viktor paused, his pen still in hand, his attention fully on you. “Is that so?” His voice was soft, almost amused. “And who might this person be?”
You described them, knowing full well Viktor wasn’t quite as perceptive about relationships as you were. “They’ve got this brilliant mind, and they share so many of your interests. I think you two would make a perfect pair.”
Viktor set his pen down and looked at you, his eyes sharp with an intensity you didn’t understand. “I see.” There was a moment of silence as he watched you, and you couldn’t help but shift under his gaze. “But… what if I’m not interested in them?”
You froze, blinking. “Oh, come on, Viktor, don’t be shy. You’re a great catch. They’re a great catch. I’m just trying to make sure you’re happy.” You laughed nervously, your heart racing as you shifted in your seat. You weren’t sure what to expect, but Viktor’s reaction didn’t seem to match the excitement you’d imagined.
He leaned back in his chair, his hands folding together, his lips curling into a faint smile. “You’re quite the matchmaker, aren’t you?” He leaned in a little closer. “But the thing is… I’m not interested in anyone else.”
Your heart skipped a beat as you gave him a confused look. “What do you mean?”
Viktor’s smile softened, and for the first time that night, you saw something in his gaze that you had never noticed before—something almost shy, but incredibly sincere. “I’m only interested in you,” he said quietly, his voice steady despite the warmth that spread across your cheeks.
You blinked a few times, your mind racing. “Wait, what? Me?” You couldn’t fathom what he meant. “But… I’m just your friend, Viktor…”
He shook his head slowly, leaning forward now with a hint of vulnerability that sent a shiver down your spine. “You’re more than that to me. I’ve been trying to show you for some time, but… you seem to be rather dense about it.”
You were caught off guard. You couldn’t believe what he was saying. All the times he’d touched your arm, the gentle conversations late into the night, the way his eyes lingered on you—it all clicked in your head like a jigsaw puzzle finally coming together.
You opened your mouth to speak, but no words came out, and Viktor chuckled softly, reaching out to gently brush your cheek with his fingertips. “It’s alright, my dear. I know it’s a lot to process. But I’m not looking for anyone else. Just you.”
Your mind raced, but your heart… your heart was already telling you what you wanted, even if your brain was still catching up. You bit your lip, feeling like an idiot for not realizing sooner. “I’m sorry, Viktor. I didn’t… I didn’t realize…”
Viktor smiled, a mixture of amusement and warmth in his eyes. “It’s alright. I’ll give you some time to process it.” He pulled back slightly, but not entirely, his gaze still focused on you with an intensity that made your heart flutter. “Just know that I’m not going anywhere.”
The weight of his words settled in, and you finally allowed yourself to breathe again. Maybe you were a bit dense, but with Viktor, you knew you were safe to be a little slow to realize the obvious. And in that moment, it felt like the world was finally in place.
Viktor had always been the one who patiently pieced things together—his machines, his plans, and now, maybe… your heart.
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thewistlingbadger · 6 hours ago
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Wow I never even. I loved the way y'all pointed this out hats off to you guys. Jayce has always wanted to make sure Viktor was seen, it's why he's always calling him partner, he's literally always referring to Viktor as his equal in every sense of the word.
"You're the professor's assistant."
"No, he's my partner."
And it's interesting to compare the way Jayce handles Viktor not wanting to be seen and the way Viktor handles it. Because there were a few moments where it felt like Viktor resented Jayce a little bit in season 1. He starts to get more angry at Jayce. Right before the progress speech we see Jayce's mug cover Viktor in the shot, as if to say he's taking up too much space in their partnership. It's interesting because is it not Viktor's own doing? Isn't this what Viktor wanted, to be in the background? No. I don't think that's actually what he wanted. I think he does want to be on the stage just as much as Jayce, but he doesn't allow himself to because he feels inadequate and wrong due to his disability and origin. When you think about the idea of Viktor being self loathing and then you rethink certain moments, things start to click into place for Viktor. And going back to the finale, Jayce literally breaks this down for Viktor.
"But you were never broken, Viktor. There is beauty to imperfections. An inseparable piece of everything I ever admired about you."
As for that part about silco, I wouldn't be surprised if they talked about it before Jayce even went to make the deal. Hell, I wouldn't be surprised if Viktor was the one that told Jayce he needed to march his ass down there and get peace between the cities. I think the reason why Viktor is the one that breaks the news about the peace is because he's from zaun. One of the last times we saw them interact before this moment was on the bridge where they had an uncomfortable moment because Viktor was in Zaun and Viktor is a Zaunite. If anyone deserves to say that peace between zaun and piltover is coming, it's Viktor, a Zaunite. And in the scene it's VIKTOR who's in the councilor chair, not jayce. Jayce is standing up, he literally gave up his seat to Viktor for this very important moment.
"I thought I wanted to give magic to the people. But right now all I want is my partner back." It's literally always been about Viktor. Jayce's dream was to recreate the magic he saw The Mage do, and The Mage was Viktor. Jayce wanted everyone to see how magic could be good since it was once good to him. He wanted everyone to have access to that magic because it once saved his life. That magic belonged to Viktor. It was Viktor that saved his life that day. It has quite literally always been Viktor.
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ellecdc · 2 days ago
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helllooo ! (first ask ever, actually, go me lol) I am requesting with your Winter Games :
🐻 here to hibernate - “oh god, did i fall asleep on you?!” from the sleepy list :)
with Regulus x reader? or Regulus x James if you’re looking for an actual ship like that :3
ily and I hope you’re doing well !! mwah
first ask ever, go you INDEED! thanks for the prompt, and for being here with me! <3
Regulus Black x Potter!reader who he falls asleep on [627 words]
CW: fem!reader, pranking, siblings, brief mention of Black family causing anxiety, fluff
Regulus had, admittedly, not been sleeping all that well leading up to the winter holidays. 
For better or for worse, Sirius had convinced him to rip the plaster off and join him at the Potter’s, if not permanently, then at least for the Christmas break. 
First, he hadn’t been sleeping well due to the stress of having to potentially return home for the holidays, then he hadn’t been sleeping well due to the stress of having to find some excuse that his parents would find believable to remain at school over the holidays, then he hadn’t been sleeping well due to the stress of how his parents might react to the news of him attending the Potter’s for the holidays, then he hadn’t been sleeping well due to the stress of having not gotten a response from them at all (the devil you know, and all that).
And finally, he hadn’t been sleeping well due to the stress of now having to celebrate the holidays with the Potter’s. Pointedly, perhaps, with you. 
So when he startled awake to the sound of the train compartment door closing - catching the tail end of his brother and his friends disappearing down the train’s corridors - to find himself having fallen asleep on your shoulder of all places, he was more than a little bit mortified. 
“Oh Merlin, did I fall asleep on you!?” He asked as he slid to the very opposite side of the bench to put some clearly well needed space between the two of you. 
“Just a little, it’s alright.” You offered with a shrug as you refused to look up from the book in your hand, though Regulus noted you take the opportunity to reposition to a more comfortable spot now that you wouldn’t risk waking him up. 
“M’so sorry.” He mumbled into his hands as he tried to wipe the residual lethargy from his face; an anxious, crackling energy bubbling from his chest to his fingertips. “I’ve not been sleeping well; this is so embarrassing.”
“It’s not embarrassing,” you chuckled kindly, “you’re obviously tired, we’ve got a long train ride, might as well sleep, yeah?” 
You smiled gently, perhaps even shyly at him, before turning your face back to your book, though you didn’t appear to actually be reading it. 
“Where’d our brother’s go?” He asked after a few beats of silence; you looked up then, as if only now realising the compartment was empty.
“Oh, erm. I think they wanted to pull one last prank of the year; wanted to go out with a-”
But the end of your sentence was cut off by a loud bang that shook the seats beneath you two, followed by some groaning, shrieking, and cackling. 
You and Regulus shared a soft, breathy snicker of your own. 
“You didn’t feel like joining them?” He queried, quite certain he wasn’t mistaken when he noticed you flush.
“Erm, no; I was quite alright here.”
Your brother’s came crashing into the compartment then with Remus and Peter on their heels; breathless, laughing, and covered in a small dusting of red and green glitter. 
“That was a good one, Trouble.” Sirius proclaimed as he took a sloppy seat across from you. “Can’t believe you opted to sit here like Reggie’s personal glorified pillow instead of seeing it through.”
“Don’t tease her.” Remus chided quietly; likely quiet enough that you hadn’t heard, but Regulus had. 
“So,” Regulus drawled then, sharing a conspiratorial look with you. “I have this to look forward to all break?” 
Sirius scoffed in offence. “You should be so lucky, baby brother.” 
“Don’t worry,” you murmured quietly, “leaves us plenty of time to make them pay.” 
Regulus couldn’t help but wonder if - just maybe - holiday’s at the Potter’s wouldn’t be so bad.
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