#I’m going to boil you /affectionate

[thesillyexpresser]

Redrew that one Fire Punch panel with Murderbot because I just got the Fujimoto vibes

OG panel (+bonus doodle because why not) below

Bonus doodle ^

[im-so-normal-iswear]

Hey! Saw your requests are open. If you havent been overwhelmed eith asks I have one for Yandere Shadow if you're interested, if not you're fine!!

What about a Yandere Shadow and Sonic with an S/O who's extremely affectionate and overprotective? BUT, as a twist, They're this way with everyone they care about. They just have a lot of love to give❤️

(Bonus headcanon that Eggman targets them first in fights because his robots literally cant get anywhere near anyone else due to how protective they can be of others. They focus on others so much they forget they might also be targetted)

A/n: idk how long this was in my inbox for

Yandere Shadow/Sonic x Overprotective, Affectionate Reader

Shadow:

Shadow isn’t used to the kind of affection you give, not from anyone. He wasnt quite used to affection to mych at all. Not after Maria at least.

You’re the type to wrap your arms around people in your life without a second thought, ruffle their hair, or reassure them with kind words whenever they’re feeling down.

At first, he thought this affection was only for him. The way you’d stand beside him in fights, ready to shield him from harm despite your lack of superhuman abilities, left him both confused and, strangely, touched.

But then, Shadow began to notice a pattern.

You weren’t just protective of him. You were protective of everyone you cared about. Whether it was Sonic, Tails, Knuckles, or even strangers in trouble, you’d throw yourself into the way to ensure no one got hurt.

Your willingness to put others first was respectable, but it also infuriated Shadow.

Didn’t you realize how reckless it was? Did you think anyone else deserved your warmth and care the way he did?

Shadow tried to reason with himself. He knew your affection was genuine and that your overprotective tendencies came from a place of love.

Still, that jealousy in his chest clawed at him every time he watched you worry and fuss over someone else.

His thoughts turned darker as he began to wonder if maybe he needed to teach you to focus that energy solely on him...

It wasn’t unusual for Eggman to target the people Shadow cared about, but this time, Eggman targeted you first.

Shadow’s blood boiled when he realized why. Your protective nature made you an obstacle to Eggman’s plans, your sheer determination to shield others from harm meant that his robots couldn’t get anywhere near his intended targets. And worse, your focus on others left you vulnerable.

Shadow was livid. Not at you, but at the world. How dare anyone put you in danger?

You were so busy worrying about others that you forgot to worry about yourself. He decided right then and there that he’d do whatever it took to keep you safe, even if that meant keeping you away from everyone else.

In the days that followed, Shadow became even more possessive. He started hovering closer during battles, stepping in before you had the chance to protect someone else. If you tried to shield Sonic or Tails, Shadow would pull you back with a firm grip, glaring at whoever dared to draw your attention.

"You can’t keep doing this," he’d say in a stern voice. "You’re going to get yourself hurt. Let me handle it."

At home, Shadow became even clingier. He didn’t like how much energy you gave to others, so he made it his mission to monopolize your time.

Every moment spent with him was another moment you couldn’t be out there, being with someone else.

Still, he couldn’t completely suppress his jealousy. The way you’d light up when hugging someone else made his fists clench.

Your constant reassurances that you had enough love to go around only made him more determined to make you see that he deserved all of it.

"Why do you waste your time on people who can’t protect themselves?" he’d growl. "They don’t deserve what you give them. I’m the one who’ll keep you safe, not them"

Sonic:

Sonic's usually not the biggest fan on being the ewcieving wnd of affection, but when it comes ti you, he loves it. In fact, he thrives on it.

You’re always ready with a hug, a playful nudge, or words of encouragement that make his heart race faster than his feet.

At first, he thought you were just that way with him, and he basked in the attention.

But Sonic quickly realized that you didn’t just have love for him. You had love for everyone.

You’d throw yourself in front of Tails to block an incoming attack, fuss over Amy if she got a scratch, or rush to Knuckles aid whenever he bit off more than he could chew.

Your boundless compassion for others left Sonic respecting you even more, but it also left him feeling insecure.

As confident as Sonic was in his abilities, he couldn’t shake the fear that someone else might steal your affection.

He wanted to be the one you turned to, the one you prioritized above all else. But your overprotective tendencies meant that you focused on everyone equally, leaving Sonic craving more of your attention.

Then came the day Eggman decided to target you.

It wasn’t hard to see why. You were a force of nature in your own way, your determination to protect others made you a threat to Eggman’s plans. Sonic’s heart dropped when he realized that Eggman saw you as a liability.

The first time one of Eggman’s robots aimed directly for you, Sonic barely managed to stop the attack in time.

"Hey, what were you thinking?!" he scolded, his voice tinged with panic. "You can’t keep throwing yourself in the line of fire like that!"

You brushed off his concerns, he did that stuff all the time, why was it any different?

Sonic wanted to argue, but he couldn’t bring himself to. Still, he made a silent vow to protect you, even if it meant protecting you from yourself.

Sonic’s jealousy is more subtle than Shadow’s, have to keep up the 'perfect hero' act. He’d crack jokes whenever you doted on someone else, masking his unease with humor. But if someone started to take over your time, Sonic wouldn’t hesitate to intervene, dragging you away with some flimsy excuse.

Despite his possessiveness, Sonic would never stop loving your affectionate nature. It’s part of what makes you, you. But he’d do everything in his power to ensure that your love didn’t come at the cost of your safety, even if it meant keeping you closer than you’d like.

[aakeysmash]

college!sukuna + the first time he asks you to watch yuuji for him :)

“Yes mom, everything is okay- no I don’t need you to send me food- ma, please-“ you try reasoning with your mother, phone between your cheek and your shoulder, while trying to cook something up.

It’s been a month since your arrival and she’s worried you might not find the comfort she so desperately wants you to have. You love her, but she can be a little too much. You manage to hang up and then you’re deep in thought, not knowing if you should add pepper or not to your pot, when a deep voice near your ear makes you jump.

“Yo.”

“For fuck- hi?! Couldn’t you, I don’t know, make any kind of noise before scaring me shitless?” You say to college!sukuna, who is looking at your pan from behind your shoulder.

“That looks like a mess,” he responds, ignoring your outburst. He's so nonchalant, almost as if judging negatively something is his natural behaviour towards strangers.

“Get out,” you whine, trying to push him away by putting your hands on his chest. He doesn’t move an inch, merely resorting to stare at you from below his nose. Your breath almost hitches: his eyes are piercing red, and the fact that he has a pair of them tattoed beneath his real ones makes him look-

"You look like a serial killer, should I call the cops on you or are you going to step back?" you say, raising one eyebrow. He blows in your face and gives you space only when he hears you whine. Asshole. Your hands fall from his chest and you slightly touch his torso. Oh, the boy has muscles, that's for sure.

"I need you to watch the brat for me," he tells you straightforwardly.

You're confused. "You need me to watch who?"

He rolls his eyes. "My brother, I need you to watch my brother."

You gape up at him, then raise your shoulders and move around him to get to the fridge. "No thanky youuu."

"Come on. They need me at the studio, a client requested me for a tattoo," he says following you, hands in his pockets.

“Not surprised you’re a tattoo artist. I’m sorry for your clients,” you mumble.

“The fuck did you say?” He snarls.

You huff. “I said, what’s in it for me?”

You turn around closing the fridge door with your hip, and you find him staring at you, again.

“Pal, you have a serious staring problem-“

“I’m ordering take out for ya.”

“Huh?” You respond, a little baffled.

“Are you dense?” He starts, a bored tilt to his tone. He thinks you’re kinda cute, but the fact you talk back makes him want to shut you up. With his own tongue down your throat, possibly. “I said I’m ordering you food. Take care of my brother and you can ask me for whatever you want for dinner. It’s not like you’re a great cook, anyway,” he adds, pointing towards the pan you still have on the stove.

You lightly slap his arm and he fights back the urge to slap you back on your forehead. Affectionately! Maybe.

“You’re so rude. Go, I’ll watch Yuuji. I want seafood boil, thanks,” you singsong. In your peripheral vision you see him stretching out his hand.

“Shake on it.”

You put your hand in his and try to grip him as strongly as possible, but he notices and it feels like he’s trying to crush your bones when he grips your hand back.

“Ow! Okay! Deal!” you say stepping back and massaging your hand, frowning.

“Thanks,” he says smirking.

[teenmaximoff]

They get into the car and Buck immediately takes off his tie and tosses it to the back seat. He’s never been much of a suit guy. But it was a funeral, he had to dress up. And make Tommy dress up too. Same as him, Tommy is also not a suit guy. It’s hard to get those beefy arms into a tailored jacket.

Tommy starts the engine and turns to Buck with the most affectionate glint in his eyes. He stares at him for a few moments, just taking in his view. “What?” Buck asks, smirking. “Something on my face?”

Tommy rolls his eyes and starts driving. “You’re cute is all.”

“I am?” His cheeks flush and he ducks his head the way he always does when Tommy compliments him. “Even covered in boils?”

“Of course.” It’s their thing – ‘Of course.’ Before every shift, one texts ‘Be safe’ and the other responds ‘Of course.’ Buck wants to get it tattooed on himself. It’s way too early for permanent commitments, but he can’t shake the idea. “You’re always cute, Baby.”

“This mean you’re going to kiss me now?” He says pursing his lips, even though Tommy’s eyes are on the road.

“Don’t continue this slander, Evan.” He replies, deadpan as ever. The dry charm is so hot, damn. “I did a hell of a lot more than kiss you this morning.” True. Actually, now that Buck is thinking about it – a rim job is just one long, pleasurable kiss.

“On the face, Kinard.” Buck can deal with the itchiness and sore arm. What he can’t handle is going over twenty-four hours without feeling Tommy’s lips on his own. “Don’t you miss kissing my birthmark every other minute?”

Tommy looks over just in time to see Buck pout and shine his best ‘puppy dog’ eyes at him. He laughs and looks back at the road. “Brat.” He knows exactly how to push his boyfriend’s buttons. “I’ll make up all the missed kisses… once you’re better.”

“And not gross?” Yeah okay, so maybe he is a bit of a brat.

“Did I not call you cute five minutes ago?”

Buck crosses his arms over his chest and huffs. “Not cute enough to kiss apparently.”

***

They eventually get stuck in Traffic. Buck switches from his dress shoes to sneakers, not being able to handle another moment of uncomfortable torture. “Better?” How Tommy is driving with his on, Buck has no idea.

“Much.” There’s a bit of comfortable silence between them, just NPR playing too soft to make out in the background. “I-I want to thank you, babe.” Buck admits shyly, patting Tommy’s (thick) thigh. “For doing this. I know you think I’m dumb for believing in all this curse crap.” He bites the inside of his cheek, feeling a bit small. “I appreciate you going along with it anyway… driving me out to fucking Temecula of all places and indulging my – uh – my weirdness.”

Tommy’s lips flatten and he tsks, shaking his head. “First of all, baby. I don’t think you’re dumb. And you shouldn’t think that either.” He quickly looks over to Buck, making sure he’s taking his words in. And with the way he looks at him, how could Buck not? “This curse means something to you, so of course I was going to help.” Buck feels his chest tighten. This man. “Even spoke to Billy for you.”

“Yeah?” His eyes light up. “What did you say?”

“That’s between me and the dead man.” He places his hand on top of Buck’s on his leg. “He knows not to mess with my boy.”

His cheeks flush and he squirms a little in his seat as a burst of heat travels through him. “Yeah, Daddy – you gonna fight a ghost for me?”

“I’ll fight a thousand ghosts for you, Evan.” Something about the way he says it, in his usual stoic tone, but laced with so much admiration – makes Buck honestly believe him. Not that he’ll literally fight a ghost - although with this Billy situation, who’s to say that couldn’t happen? – but that Tommy will fight for him, for them. He will go to bat for him; time and time again showing up whether Buck needs him or not. He’s all in.

Is this what it feels like to find the one? Buck’s not sure. It didn’t feel like this with Abby or Taylor. He loved them – in different ways. But nothing close to this. Buck can’t imagine a life where Tommy isn’t beside him, indulging him in his antics and looking at him like he’s the sun, moon, and all the stars in between. It’s too early to say it, he knows it is. But, fuck, he really is in love. “Tommy –“ He says, his boyfriend quickly glancing from the road to him. “You matter so much to me.”

“You matter to me too, baby.” Tommy smiles, his eyes crinkling beautifully and so kissable. Maybe they can just pull over for a quickie? “Evan, know this. I will happily put on a suit and drive to Temecula whenever you ask. As long you keep being you.”

Sounds a hell of a lot like Tommy wants to say ‘I love you’ too. Just not now. Not while he’s covered in boils and driving. Because the second he says it, he has to know Buck will say it back and then drown him in kisses. The moment will come soon enough.

***

Buck eventually falls asleep against the window. With all the traffic, it takes them an hour longer than it should have to get back to LA. Tommy shakes him a little to wake him up, leaving a line of drool on the glass. He blinks a few times at the setting sun shining in his eyes, not recognizing the building they’re outside of. Tommy comes around the truck to open Buck’s door for him. Such a gentleman. “Where are we?”

He sighs affectionately. “A dermatologist, Evan.”

[moonstruckme]

i've found your account not too long ago and let me tell you i fell in love with your writing, could i request poly!marauders with reader where each one of them has a specific pet name that reader calls them, like for example reader screams from the kitchen 'honey' and then remus comes cause that's what she always calls him, and they all just love it so much that she gives them separate pet names

god i hope it makes sence hahah

have a good day xoxo

Ahh thanks lovely! No worries, this made perfect sense, and I'm a sucker for idiosyncratic pet names! Hope you like it and you have a good day too :)

poly!marauders x reader ♡ 378 words

“Shit,” you mutter as water hisses and sizzles on the hot stove, your pot boiling over. “Honey!” 

“Yeah?” Remus calls from the next room. You can hear his footsteps heading your way. 

“Can you stir the pasta for me, please? I’m not going to have the sauce ready in time if I stop to watch the pot.” 

“‘Course, dove.” Remus squeezes your shoulder lightly as he goes by, the sizzling sounds quieting soon after. 

“Thanks. Would you mind getting the table ready, bub?”

You hear the TV turn off as James stands. “On it.” 

“Thanks!”

James comes into your small kitchen to collect the cutlery, and you and Remus both move, without having to look, to let him pass. This choreography is so familiar it feels nearly instinctive by now, the way the four of you move together, brushing past each other with affectionate touches and the occasional murmured direction. Sirius, evidently feeling left out, hops onto the counter beside your cutting board. 

“Hey, love.” You glance at him with a smile before returning to your work. “I know you’re not a fan of tomatoes, so I’m thinking I could add those last and plate yours up before that. That sound alright?”

“Sounds perfect,” Sirius replies, ducking down to give you a quick kiss. “Thanks, angel.” 

You know you’re smiling down at the tomatoes like an idiot, but you can’t help it. It’s just the way your face wants to be. “No problem.” 

Once dinner is ready, you and Remus carry two plates each to the table, where James and Sirius are already waiting. “Fuck,” you hiss, tripping over something soft before righting yourself. “Sorry, baby.” 

Three pairs of eyes snap to you quizzically, but you don’t notice, setting down the dishes before squatting under the table. 

“Always underfoot, aren’t you?” You coo, petting your (thankfully unharmed) cat. 

Sirius huffs a laugh, and there may even be a bit of relief in the sound. “Did you guys know who she was talking to?” 

“Nope,” James says, shaking his head. “I thought one of us was getting a new one or something. I quite like them the way they are, though.” 

“Honestly, dove, let’s keep the pet names for just us, yeah?” Remus teases. “Otherwise it could get competitive.”

[ppumeonae-bigvibe]

stay by my side

↖ navigation: nct masterlist || main masterlist

pairing: bf! jeno x fem! reader

↬ tags: jeno refers to you as baby, ft! 00z because when will they not cause chaos, jeno and reader shares a home/ apartment!, reader is also 00z's friend!!, brief mention of period (and jeno having a period tracker for you)

summary: nothing went to plan, but jeno wasn't gonna complain

word count: 1.3k words

jeno dons on his outer coat, checking himself in the mirror before exiting the bathroom. a little worried that you hadn't gotten out of bed despite the sun being sky high already, he strides over to you.

"baby, i'm about to go out. are you up?"

he wasn't going to leave the house until he knew you were awake. the sheets rustled and he pulls back the cover by a bit, "rise and shine my sleepy baby." he sits by the edge of your shared bed, head cocked to the side as he observed each and every of your moves.

you made a noise at the back of your throat—a protest to having been woken by him—and opened your eyes to meet jeno's twinkling (and more awake) ones, "hey..."

jeno immediately frowned at the scratchy tone of your voice, "you don't sound good. you feeling alright?"

“’m just tired. are you leaving now?” you cleared your throat as if attempting to get rid of the sleep in your system. “yeah. i’m out with the boys for a bowling session."

he brushes the stray strands of hair away from your face and catches you leaning into his hold. gently, he pressed his palm directly against forehead.

good, no temperature. he tucks the covers comfortably around your chest, patting you as he did. you wiggled a bit to lie down on your side, eyes half-opened as you stared back at him.

"will you be alright?" he repeats again, fingers intertwined with yours.

you yawned, “i should be. just really tired.” jeno cups your face in his hands and pressed multiple kisses all over your face, causing you to briefly smile at the affectionate action. "i'll be back as soon as i can."

"i will miss you."

that few words seemed to pierce his heart and it throbbed uncomfortably against his ribs.

as he stands up, he was torn between hanging out with his friends and also to just be there for you. you sensed his hesitance, squeezing his arm, "jeno, i'll be okay. our friends are gonna make a fuss if you don't show your handsome face in a few."

"anything you're on my hot dial, alright? just ring me." he emphasized, making sure you acknowledge his request before he leaves the room. he glances through the whole house, making sure that windows were shut, the hot water had just been boiled and everything was placed away neatly—just the way you liked it.

momentary worry gave way to anticipation when he sees the message from jaemin, telling them they were waiting downstairs. he slips on his sneakers and locks the door with a soft click, dashing down the steps 2 at a time towards the apartment's carpark.

"yo! you're here!" jaemin greets from behind the steering wheel as the window winds down. "hurry up or we're going to be late!" haechan—who was in the shotgun seat—hollered at him.

jeno makes his way over, but stopped when the image of you pitifully (you claimed you were fine...but were you really?) lying in bed surfaced in his mind. did he imagine it or were you looking a little paler too, with a slight hint of pain lacing your voice earlier?

"i...don't think i'm gonna go with you guys."

"look at him. it's definitely a lover's quarrel." haechan teased, arm slightly leaning out of the window frame. renjun cranes his neck from the back seats, "if you're grounded or something, then we're just gonna go ahead."

jaemin makes a show of inching the car forward by a few centimetres, causing all three of them to laugh.

"the kind of friends i have." jeno dramatically shakes his head. "one, i'm not having a lover's quarrel. two, i'm not grounded. the thing is, my lover is just feeling under the weather and i don't feel assured leaving her alone."

"jeno being a sappy lover is difficult for my mind to wrap around. he didn't even visit me when i broke my arm." jaemin joked to break the tension and everyone laughed again.

"i'm sorry guys. i know we've planned this for a while now."

haechan waved him off, "we get it, loverboy. now go before i start gagging!" renjun smacks the back of haechan's head, earning him a pained "ow!", before looking back jeno, "jeno-ah, just go up. we'll get going first."

jeno spun around, "i'll treat y'all to something next time. i promise."

----

as jeno makes his way back up, he receives a notification from the period tracker app and everything clicks into place. the way you were subtly hunched over yesterday, mentioning about how your back hurt and even the resurgence of your chocolate cravings all made sense now.

jeno slots the key into the lock and swings open the door. as expected, you were in deep sleep considering the fact that everything was still in place. toeing off his shoes by the door, he closed it shut behind him and hurriedly made his way over to the room.

"baby..." he greets and you groggily gazed at him. "didn't you just leave...? why did you come back?" despite your words sounding like you wanted him to go, your opened arms begged him to stay. and stay he would, as he comes up to you, "i'm worried for you, so i came back."

the face you made was worth it because you tugged him even closer, till his entire body was up on the bed and toppled over you. with his arms bracketing your body, you were effectively caged in his warm embrace.

"you didn't have to..." he chuckles when you hid your warm face in the juncture of his neck, his body relaxing knowing that it was the right thing to have chosen to stay by your side.

"i know that. i wanted to. the guys were chill with it." he pushed himself up on his elbows, a hair's breadth away from your blushing face. "so...how does netflix and chill sound?"

"i would love that. hopefully our friends don't get too mad that we're spending time again this week."

----

much to your surprise, the other 3 made their appearance by the door, armed with takeout and other goodies mid movie.

"what are you doing here?" jeno stands with his arms on his hips, bewildered. the movie was playing in the background and you peeked out your head from amidst the soft blankets, "haechan? jaemin and renjun?"

"because these two were bickering about how not fun it would be without you or actually either of you two. and then when we reached the alley, the booking got cancelled because we were actually really late. so we decided to crash your pity party." renjun summarized, not forgetting to point to the two troublemakers.

haechan being haechan, shuffles into the dim apartment which was set up for the movie, "i think this is better than the bowling alley. there were too many kids there anyways." jaemin huffs, "you're the real problem here haech. anyways where is my bestie!"

jaemin pushes past jeno, sheds off his coat and makes himself comfortable beside you. he gave you a once over before wagging his fingers, "girl, you look like you need some of these food. eat up and don't even try to feed your self-sufficient boyfriend."

you burst out laughing at the whole situation: an appalled jeno staring at the three of them making themselves in you two's shared home (you did say they were welcomed anytime they wanted to), haechan already starting to eat the takeout, renjun raiding your kitchen for utensils and cups, jaemin who was outright haggling you in front of your boyfriend.

jeno clambers onto the sofa, manhandling you out of jaemin's grasp. jaemin huffs, but immediately got distracted by the food haechan held out to him, renjun automatically rewinding the movie to the start so that they could watch it.

"a stay at home kinda day huh?"

"wouldn't change it for the world."

@ppumeonae-bigvibe 's work ; likes and reblogs are appreciated <3

[pbaz7]

It’ll Always Be Her Chapter 9

AN: This chapter’s a little spicy as the game returns 🫣. I’ve had a few people ask me about one shots so if you have any ideas for those let me know because I’m open to posting some! Like always leave a live reaction or comment if you can

TW: Harsh/Suggestive language, drinking, confrontation

Word Count: 3.4k

Paige had been all over Azzi lately. It didn’t matter where they were—the blonde didn’t seem to care. She was always whispering things in Azzi’s ear, being extremely affectionate, and flirting incessantly. Azzi’s neck was practically screaming for help which she constantly covers with concealer. Tonight would be no different.

The team, gearing up for the more serious part of their season, decided they needed one more night out before locking in. And, as usual, they found themselves at Ted’s. The entire team was drunk, even the freshmen, who were being slyly handed drinks by their older teammates.

Paige was in rare form. She was glued to Azzi’s side, heavily flirting, touching her every chance she got, and leaning in to whisper things that made Azzi’s cheeks flush. The two of them stood at the bar, teasing one another, drinks in hand, caught in their own little world. Paige’s laughter echoed as she leaned in closer, her lips brushing against Azzi’s ear.

“You know,” Paige murmured, her voice low, “I don’t think I’ve ever wanted you more than I do right now.”

Azzi grinned, resting her hand on Paige’s hip. “Careful. If you keep this up, we’re going to have an early night.”

“Promise?” Paige shot back, her eyes dark with playful intent.

Azzi was about to respond when something in the corner of her eye made her freeze. Her grip on Paige’s waist tightened slightly as her jaw clenched. Standing by the entrance was Jess, her sharp gaze cutting through the lively crowd.

“Paige,” Azzi said, her tone more serious now, giving her a small nudge.

Paige pulled back, her brows furrowing. “What is it?”

Azzi subtly motioned toward the door, and Paige followed her line of sight. The moment her eyes landed on Jess, her expression darkened.

Jess, who couldn’t seem to let go of the thought of Paige had an air of smug defiance. She had a mocking smile tugging at the corners of her lips as if to say, Miss me?

Paige’s blood boiled. She could feel Azzi’s protective presence at her side, but her jaw clenched tightly as she took a deep breath.

“That’s bold of her,” Azzi muttered, her voice laced with anger.

“Bold or stupid,” Paige replied, her voice cold. “She really thinks she can just show up here like nothing happened? She needs to know she’s not welcome.”

Azzi smirked, a glint of mischief in her eyes. “I’ve got a better idea,” she said, leaning in close.

Paige raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

Azzi placed her hands on Paige’s hips, drawing her in. “Jess always hated how close we were,” she said softly, her voice dripping with suggestion. “Let’s remind her why.”

Paige caught on quickly, her lips curling into a sly smile. “You’re evil,” she whispered, her heart racing with anticipation.

Azzi shrugged, her smirk growing. “She made her bed. I’m just making sure she lies in it.”

Without hesitation, Paige pressed closer, she began whispering in Azzi’s ear, her lips trailing down Azzi’s neck. She kissed the sensitive spot just below her ear, lingering long enough to make Azzi’s breath hitch. Azzi, however, kept her composure the entire time, her hooded eyes locking onto Jess’s with unflinching confidence and a smirk on her face.

Jess’s expression faltered, her smug grin replaced by a subtle eye roll as she lifted her glass in mock indifference. But Azzi could see the tension in her posture, the way her grip on the glass tightened ever so slightly.

“She’s trying not to care,” Azzi whispered, her voice laced with amusement.

Paige smiled against Azzi’s neck, her fingers slipping under the hem of Azzi’s shirt just enough to draw a sharp intake of breath. “Let’s make sure she fails then,” she replied, her tone daring.

Azzi’s smirk deepened, and she leaned back just enough to catch Paige’s gaze. “You realize this is only the start, right?”

“Oh, I know,” Paige said, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Once we start, there’s no stopping.”

Azzi laughed, a rich, confident sound that carried over the thumping music. “Good,” she said. “I love a challenge.”

From across the room, Jess’s annoyance was palpable, but she remained rooted in place, her eyes flicking between the two of them.

Paige leaned in once more, her lips brushing against Azzi’s ear as she whispered, “Your turn.”

Azzi’s smirk didn’t falter as she lifted her hand, gently tilting Paige’s chin upward. Her lips barely grazed Paige’s before pulling back, enough to leave the crowd around them buzzing with speculation.

Jess huffed, turning her head sharply, but she still didn’t leave. She was trying to outlast them, refusing to give them the satisfaction.

Azzi chuckled. “She’s stubborn,” she said.

“So are we,” Paige shot back, her smile devious.

And so the game began. Paige and Azzi both loving a good competition.

…

Paige and Azzi were fully engrossed in their game, pushing boundaries in a way that left little to the imagination. The dim lighting of Ted’s cast a glow over them, but they weren’t concerned. None of the students would dare invade their privacy, and the team who would usually tease them for their PDA, seemed content to watch the drama unfold, some of them even making bets on how far it’ll go.

Azzi was draped over Paige’s lap, her lips brushing against her ear, her teeth occasionally grazing the sensitive skin of her neck. Paige’s usual bright blue eyes had darkened, her gaze flicking between her drink, Azzi, and the few teammates still lingering at their table talking to the blonde.

“I can’t believe how bold you’re being tonight,” Azzi whispered, her breath warm against Paige’s skin.

Paige chuckled lowly, her hand resting possessively on Azzi’s thigh. “You started this game,” she replied, her voice husky. “I’m just keeping up.”

The team, usually quick with teasing remarks, had fallen quiet. KK and Ice exchanged knowing looks, their attention drifting toward Jess, who was trying—and failing—to appear unfazed.

Jess sat stiffly in the corner, her drink barely touched. Her eyes darted toward Paige and Azzi every few seconds, and though she tried to mask her irritation, her clenched jaw and tapping foot betrayed her.

“She’s barely holding it together,” KK murmured to Ice, who smirked.

When Ice and KK stood to grab another drink, Paige’s attention snapped fully to Azzi. Her eyes, now nearly black with intensity, locked onto Azzi’s. Azzi felt a thrill of excitement, recognizing that Paige was on the verge of losing control.

Azzi leaned in closer, her voice a low murmur. “What’s wrong, baby?” she teased, her lips brushing against Paige’s ear. “Can’t take it anymore?”

Paige’s grip tightened on Azzi’s thigh, her breathing shallow. “You’re killing me,” she admitted, her voice strained.

Azzi smirked, her confidence unwavering. “Then stop holding back,” she whispered. “Let it out. Show me what you’ve got.”

Paige’s eyes flickered with a dangerous mix of desire and determination. She leaned in, her lips capturing Azzi’s in a heated kiss that left no room for subtlety. The room around them seemed to fade as their game reached a fever pitch.

Paige’s lips lingered against Azzi’s, their kiss deep and intentional, a deliberate display meant for more than just each other. When they finally pulled back, Paige caught a glimpse of Jess storming toward the bathroom, her face flushed with barely contained frustration.

“She’s trying to compose herself,” Azzi said with a smirk, her voice filled with amusement. “Too bad we’re not done.”

Paige chuckled, her fingers brushing against Azzi’s jaw. “Not even close,” she murmured, her tone dripping with confidence.

Azzi shifted slightly, her hand slipping beneath the hem of Paige’s shirt, her touch light but deliberate. Paige’s breath hitched, but she didn’t pull away. Instead, she leaned in closer, her lips grazing Azzi’s ear.

“You really love pushing buttons, don’t you?” Paige whispered.

Azzi’s smirk widened. “Only when it’s this fun,” she replied.

As Jess returned from the bathroom, her carefully crafted neutral expression slipped when her eyes locked with Paige’s. What she saw twisted something deep in her gut. Paige’s usually bright blue eyes were dark, heavy with a desire Jess had never seen before—not with her.

Paige smirked, then slowly dragged her fingers through Azzi’s hair, letting her hand rest at the nape of Azzi’s neck. The motion was intimate, possessive, and deliberate, and Jess felt the sting of it as though it were meant to cut.

Azzi, noticing Paige’s shift, leaned in closer, her lips grazing the sensitive spot just below Paige’s ear. “She’s unraveling,” Azzi murmured, her voice seductive.

Paige didn’t look away from Jess. “Good,” she replied softly, her tone filled with satisfaction.

Jess’s jaw tightened, and though she tried to mask her jealousy, it radiated off her in waves. She had never seen this side of Paige—uninhibited, completely lost in someone else, not caring what anyone else thought. It was a version of her she had desperately wanted but never managed to reach.

Azzi smirked as she caught the flicker of hurt and anger in Jess’s eyes. “Think she’s realizing she lost?” she whispered, her fingers tracing slow circles on Paige’s thigh.

Paige’s lips twitched into a deeper smile. “She should be, but I don’t think so.”

Jess broke eye contact, her hand gripping the edge of the table so tightly her knuckles turned white. But even as she looked away, it was clear she couldn’t block out what was happening right in front of her.

Paige tilted her head slightly, exposing more of her neck to Azzi. “I don’t think I’m done with you yet though.”

Azzi grinned wickedly. “Perfect.”

Jess’s composure faltered further as Paige leaned back, letting Azzi take the lead, their closeness undeniable. Paige’s hand stayed on Azzi’s neck, her thumb idly stroking the skin there as her darkened gaze was hidden behind her eyelids once Azzi kissed a particularly sensitive spot on her neck.

Jess could feel herself spiraling, her carefully maintained facade cracking under the weight of what she couldn’t have—and what Paige clearly no longer wanted to hide.

…

After a few more drinks, the rest of the bar blurred into insignificance for Paige and Azzi. The game they’d been playing, the teasing glances, and the calculated moves to rile up Jess were forgotten. Now, it was just the two of them, lost in the gravity of each other’s presence. It had gotten so crowded that the bartender dimmed the lights and had music blaring.

The music was loud and heavy, but Paige hardly heard it. Her entire focus was on Azzi—on the way her body moved in perfect sync with hers, how her touch left a trail of heat on her skin. Paige leaned in, her lips brushing Azzi’s ear as she whispered, “You make it impossible to think about anything else.”

Azzi chuckled softly, her hands sliding around Paige’s waist, holding her close. “Good,” she replied, her voice low and sultry. “Because all I can think about is you.”

The space between them disappeared as their movements became more intimate, their bodies pressed together as they swayed to the rhythm. Paige’s hands traveled up Azzi’s back, her touch lingering, as if memorizing every inch.

Azzi’s eyes darkened with desire as she traced her fingers along Paige’s arm. “You’ve been driving me crazy all night,” she murmured, her lips dangerously close to Paige’s.

Without warning, Azzi grabbed Paige’s hand and led her out of the crowded center of the room, weaving through the sea of bodies until they reached a darker, secluded corner near the back of the bar. The dim lighting barely touched them, casting long shadows that only seemed to heighten the tension between them.

Azzi leaned against the wall, pulling Paige flush against her. Paige’s lips ghosted over Azzi’s jawline, teasing, as her hands gripped her hips. “You’re impossible,” she whispered, her voice heavy with need.

Azzi tilted her head back slightly, her breath hitching as Paige’s lips brushed against her neck. “And you love it,” she said, a sly smile tugging at her lips.

Paige didn’t respond with words. Instead, she captured Azzi’s lips in a fierce, hungry kiss. It was as if the dam of restraint had finally broken, and all the tension that had been building between them spilled out. The kiss deepened quickly, their movements growing more desperate as they clung to each other.

Azzi’s hands slid under Paige’s shirt, her fingers tracing the bare skin of her back, while Paige’s hands roamed freely, one tangling in Azzi’s hair, the other gripping her waist. They were so absorbed in each other that they didn’t notice Jess standing across the room, her drink clutched tightly in her hand.

Jess’s face was a storm of emotions—jealousy, anger, and frustration swirling together. She slammed her glass down on the table with a sharp clatter, drawing a few startled glances from nearby patrons. Without a second look, she stormed out of Ted’s, the door slamming shut behind her.

But Paige and Azzi were oblivious. Their world had narrowed to just the two of them. Paige’s hands slid up Azzi’s sides, her touch slow and deliberate. When her fingers reached Azzi’s neck, she paused for a moment before wrapping her hand around it, giving it a gentle squeeze.

Azzi’s breath hitched, her eyes fluttering closed for a brief second. She knew exactly what it meant when the blonde did that—Paige was losing control. As much as Azzi wanted to give in loving the way Paige’s hand felt around her neck, gentle but firm, she also knew they couldn’t lose themselves completely here.

Forcing herself to break the kiss, Azzi pulled back slightly, her forehead resting against Paige’s as they both struggled to catch their breath. Her voice was husky, barely above a whisper. “We need to get you out of here,” she said, her tone tinged with urgency and a hint of amusement.

Paige’s eyes, heavy-lidded and filled with unspoken longing, bore into Azzi’s. She gave a small, almost imperceptible nod, her thumb brushing lightly against Azzi’s neck. “Take me,” she murmured, her voice rough with need.

Azzi’s lips curled into a small, knowing smile. “Don’t have to tell me twice,” she said softly, her voice filled with promise.

Without wasting another second, Azzi took Paige’s hand, lacing their fingers together as she led her toward the exit. Their pace quickened, anticipation crackling between them like a live wire.

The cold night air hit them as Paige and Azzi stumbled out of Ted’s, laughter spilling from their lips as they clung to each other. The warmth of alcohol coursing through their veins made everything feel lighter, their inhibitions long gone. Paige’s hand lingered on Azzi’s waist, her touch firm and possessive as they swayed in rhythm, still caught in the afterglow of their moments inside.

Azzi tilted her head back, letting out a soft giggle. “We’re a mess,” she teased, her eyes sparkling as she looked up at Paige.

“And yet, somehow, we’re still the best-looking pair here,” Paige quipped, her voice low and playful, leaning in to brush her lips against Azzi’s temple.

Their laughter continued until Azzi’s gaze shifted. She stiffened slightly, her arm tightening around Paige’s waist. Paige noticed immediately, her own smile fading.

“What is it?” she asked, her voice soft but concerned.

Azzi’s eyes flicked toward the curb under the glow of a streetlamp. “There,” she muttered, her tone grim.

Paige followed her line of sight, and her heart sank. Sitting slumped on the curb, nursing what looked like her third or fourth drink of the night, was Jess. Her head was bowed, strands of hair falling into her face, but even from this distance, the weight of her presence was unmistakable.

Paige sighed heavily, running a hand through her hair. “Seriously?” she muttered under her breath.

Azzi raised an eyebrow, giving Paige a questioning look. What now?

Paige hesitated, torn. As much as Jess had complicated her life, it wasn’t in her nature to leave someone in that state.

With a sigh, Azzi gave Paige a gentle nudge forward. “Go,” she said softly, staying close behind.

They approached cautiously, Paige leading while Azzi lingered a few paces back, her watchful eyes never leaving Jess. As they neared, Jess seemed to sense their presence. Her head lifted slowly, her gaze landing on Paige first, then shifting to Azzi.

A bitter scoff escaped Jess’s lips. “Well, well,” she drawled, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “If it isn’t the happy couple. Come to gloat?” She raised her glass as if in a mock toast before taking a slow sip, her eyes never leaving them.

Paige frowned, her tone measured. “That’s not why we’re here, Jess. I came to—”

Jess’s gaze slid past Paige to Azzi, her lips curling into a nasty smirk

“And you,” she said, her voice laced with venom. “Always lurking in the background, aren’t you? Like a loyal little slut who—”

She didn’t get to finish. Paige’s eyes narrowed sharply, her voice cutting through the tension. “What did you just say?” she asked, her tone low and dangerous. She stepped forward, her jaw tightening. “Say that again.I couldn’t have heard you correctly.”

Jess’s smirk faltered, but she quickly doubled down, leaning back. “You heard me. It’s what she is.”

Paige’s jaw clenched, her fists curling at her sides as her heart pounded. Her voice dropped to a deadly calm. “No, say it again. I want to make sure I heard you right.”

Jess met her gaze, the smugness in her eyes flickering. “I said she’s a slut” emphasizing the last word.

Azzi didn’t flinch, her calm composure a stark contrast to the fire that suddenly ignited in Paige’s eyes.

“You don’t get to talk about her like that,” Paige cut in, her voice sharp and cold. She took a step closer, her towering presence making Jess shrink back slightly. “You don’t get to say her name, much less insult her.”

Jess scoffed, trying to hold her ground. “Oh, please. Like I’m scared of—”

“Shut up,” Paige snapped, her eyes blazing with anger. “Do you even hear yourself? You’re sitting here, drunk and bitter, trying to drag her down because you can’t stand the fact that I never wanted you.”

Jess froze, her eyes widening as the words hit their mark. “Yeah right, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said, trying to sound confident.

“Oh, I think you do,” Paige shot back, her voice growing colder. “You’ve been playing the victim ever since I broke up with you, twisting the story to make yourself look better. But the truth? You were never more than a convenient lie I went along with to avoid embarrassing you after you made that little announcement.”

Jess’s face paled slightly, the weight of Paige’s words hitting her harder than she expected.

“I never felt anything for you,” Paige continued, her eyes locked on Jess. “Not once. And you need to get that through your head.”

The silence between them was deafening, broken only by the distant hum of traffic. Jess opened her mouth to respond, but Paige cut her off with a final warning.

“And one more thing,” Paige said, her voice low and deliberate. “If I ever hear you say Azzi’s name again—especially like that— I promise you’ll regret it.”

Jess’s eyes flicked to Azzi, who stood silently, her expression calm but unyielding. Jess’s confidence wavered, her smirk replaced by a mix of anger and humiliation.

Azzi, who had stayed back until now, finally stepped forward. She placed a gentle hand on Paige’s arm, her touch grounding. “Baby,” she said softly, her voice calm but firm. “It’s fine. Let’s go. She’s not worth it.”

Hearing that single word from Azzi hit Jess harder than any of Paige’s previous words. Her face twisted in a mix of hurt and fury, her composure cracking under the weight of what she had lost—and what she had never truly had.

Paige hesitated, her breathing heavy as she fought to rein in her emotions. Slowly, she nodded, her gaze softening as she looked at Azzi. “Yeah,” she murmured, her voice calmer. “You’re right.”

She wrapped an arm around Azzi, pulling her close as they turned to leave, neither of them glancing back. Jess was still sitting there, her face a mixture of anger and shame, the weight of her choices finally catching up to her.

Paige pressed a kiss to Azzi’s temple as they walked down the street, her arm securely around her. The confrontation with Jess was over, and as far as Paige was concerned, it was the last chapter in a story she had no intention of revisiting.

For the first time in a long while, Paige felt free, her focus solely on the woman by her side—the one who had always been there—the woman she unknowingly loved.

[sataraxia]

jerk.

earth42!miles x fem!reader

summary: you haven't heard about him for a whole week, what a 'jerk'. (wc: 3.9 k, kinda short and a dumb blurb)

warnings: cursing, a kind of suggestive? line at the end.

a/n: it's the first time i publish something so maybe it's kinda bad idk, and also this isn't angst miles is actually the best man ever pls i just wanna hug him. aand english isn't my first language so pls pls let me know if i spelled something wrong!

"I heard that kiki was invited to prom in the most romantic way possible, I'm so jealous."

"oh god, yeah, I wish I had a boyfriend like hers, or well, just a boyfriend".

You were biting your nails right now, looking everywhere but at your friends, what a topic, huh?

“hey, your boyfriend already invited you?”

And there was the question, you just looked lazily at them “uh, sure”

The truth was that you hadn't been talking to Miles for a week or so, and this was exactly why.

You always understood that maybe he didn't like a lot of things about high school, and you never complained about it, but this time, it was something important to you, and he didn't seem to care.

"baby, it's just a dance, I don't understand why you're acting like it's such a big deal." he said while not even looking at your direction.

"maybe it's a big deal that you're being a jerk about this."

Yeah, that conversation didn't end well, you haven't heard from him since.

The thing was, you don't do a lot of couple things publicly, and it's slowly starting to affect your mind, maybe he didn't want to be seen with you, or someone couldn't see him with you, the thought alone causing you to shiver. 

You spent the rest of the day distracting yourself with your friends and your homework, secretly waiting for a message from him to appear on your phone.

It did, but definitely not what you expected.

miles <4: 'i’m back in town, wyd?'

Oh. 

You didn't know whether to be happy that he wasn't ignoring you, or angry that he didn't give the last discussion more than a thought. 

You decided not to let it go this time, and not even look at the text.

Of course, that was stupid, but so were you.

It wasn't more than two hours, he was already knocking on your window, and once you let him in, he just looked at you, deeply.

“wanna’ tell me what’s up with you, darling?”

That was not affectionate, he was annoyed, mocking, you realize.

“nothing.” you couldn’t look at him when you were lying, he knew that.

“i thought you were the one who opted for that communication bullshit, cmon.”

“where were you?”

“work”  the tone was defensive, almost secretive, it was always like that when he mentioned something about the prowler, you never talked a lot about it.

“you could have told me”

“thought you didn't want a jerk talking to you?”

“yeah, but you’re still my boyfriend, Miles, we argued, and I didn't hear about you for a whole week.”

“sorry.”

That's what made your veins boil the most, he was never mean, disrespectful, or a jerk.

He always knew when to say sorry or when he had done the wrong thing, that meant he didn't really care about the problem that kept popping into your head, he didn't see it like a problem at all.

And that only made you feel dumber, maybe you were overreacting, again.

“it’s okay, i just missed you” 

That's all you had to say for him to look at you with those eyes that made you feel like the most special woman on earth, that made any insecurity disappear just as the space between your bodies did.

“i missed you too.”

Of course, he stayed the whole night with you.

The next afternoon, when you entered your room, you saw a package on your bed, with a note on top of it

“I couldn't go to prom if my girl wasn't wearing my color, be at your door by eight o'clock. 

                                                                                                      luv ya, miles.”

Inside the package was a beautiful dress, vibrant purple, obviously.

This was definitely the man of your dreams.

+bonus:

Eight o'clock, and he was with his motorcycle at your door.

"you are breathtaking, love" he said and you approached him to give him just a little kiss, while smiling.

"thanks for all this, but I thought it wasn't a big deal?" a smirk adorned your face.

"it was a big deal if you were calling me a jerk about it" you grabbed his waist as you settled on the bike.

"sorry about that." a little peck on the cheek.

"you'll have time to apologize to me, don't worry:"

[bruisedboys]

I’d love to see candy cane ❛ wow i really can’t speak, huh? must be because of how pretty you look. ❜ IT’S SO JAMES CODED OMG

also congratulations on 6k you deserve it so much!!

omg it is sooo james coded!!! also this is funny bc a while ago my bff aerial did this exact prompt with james for a request I sent in! great minds think alike I guess

james potter x fem!reader

James is bombarded with your loveliness the moment he walks in the door.

“Jamie!” You beam at him from where you’re folding laundry on the living room floor. You roll up a pair of his socks before scrambling to your feet to meet him. “Hello, honey. How was work?”

You throw yourself at him in a clumsy but no less affectionate hug. James takes the brunt of your weight happily, his hands folding around your waist.

“Hello,” he says back, a little dazed. You smell lovely. His hands skim over the strip of bare skin on your back, where your top rides up. You’re warm under his palms. “It, um. It was good.”

You pull back, still positively beaming. James blinks at you. You’re so pretty and so clearly ecstatic to seem him. He could die.

“Yeah?” You ask him, head tilting slightly to the side. James thinks you resemble a puppy, a little bit. “That’s good. Are you hungry, baby? ‘Cos I haven’t started on dinner yet, but I can get it going now, if—“

“Sweetheart.” James stops your sweet rambling, and brings a hand to your jaw. “I’m okay. I’ll eat whenever you’re ready, yeah?”

You nod. “Okay. You’re sure you’re not hungry?”

James does his best to smile at you, but it’s hard when you’re being so lovely and all he really wants is to kiss you silly. “Yes. I’m sure, bub. Let me help you with the laundry?”

You let him help you, albeit grudgingly. You both sit on the floor and sort things into piles. James notices, with not much surprise, that your folding is much neater than his. You’re chatting away to him, and he’s listening, he swears he is, but he’s so distracted by how achingly lovely you are that it’s hard to pay attention.

When you’re done you crawl across the piles to sit closer to him, crossing your legs so your knees press into his. You put your hand on James’ thigh and he feels starstruck.

“So, for dinner,” you start conversationally, like you’re not being the loveliest most captivating girl he’s ever met right now. “I was thinking mac ‘n’ cheese? There’s lots of pasta in the cupboard for it. Or we could do tomato soup, or just takeout if you want. Whatever you like, Jamie.”

And you push your hand further up his thigh, and smile this awful smile that makes James’ heart race, makes his palms sweat and his head swim.

“I— okay. Um. Uh, um.” What were you talking about again? He thinks you might have mentioned pasta. “Pasta is good, I think?”

You give him a half bewildered, half amused look. “James, what?” You say, giggling a bit. You bring your hand to his cheek and he hopes he’s not as boiling hot as he thinks he is. “Are you okay?”

James shakes his head from side to side as if to clear it. “I’m fine, it’s— I’m just. You’re—“ And he literally has to stop talking, because the way you’re looking at him is tying his tongue in knots. How do you expect him to be able to function properly when you’re being so lovely? When you’re touching his cheek and sitting so close, asking him what he wants for dinner and looking at him like he’s made of starlight. He puffs out a big breath, hot in the face.

“Wow, I really can’t speak, huh?” He admits, totally embarrassed but also totally past caring. “Must be because of how pretty you look.”

The spell breaks. You rolls your eyes and huff at him, good natured. “James,” you groan.

“What?” James laughs and takes your hand from his cheek, lacing his fingers with yours. “I’m serious. You’re messing me up, sweet thing.”

You squint at him, like you’re trying to figure out if he’s being serious or not. Your must realise he’s totally and completely serious, because you wrinkle your nose at him.

“Ugh.” You say, and unfold yourself to stand up.“You’re impossible.”

James gawks up at you. “I’m impossible? You’re the one bewitching me like some sort of evil witch woman.”

You giggle and flounce off, saying something about putting the pasta on to boil. James is left to sit there wondering if you really have put him under a spell. He sure feels like it.

[slytherinshua]

LIFELONG (COFFEE) ADDICT

genre. fluff. warnings. jokes about addiction. and brief marriage mention. sion is so whipped. not proofread. pairing. sion x reader. wc. 572. request. requested by anon for #21: "when I’m with you everything else goes away.” a/n. i swear in every wish behind this man is drinking another cup 😟 he's just like me 😭 the coffee addiction goes hard.

“I’m going to marry you one day.” Sion sighed dreamily as he wrapped his arms around your waist, whispering the affectionate remark close to your ear. You giggled at his sentiment, finding his morning clinginess to be one of his infinite attractive traits. Your boyfriend always looked forward to the days off work when he could stay with you, partly because he could never get enough of your company, and partly because the coffee you made was almost as addictive as your lips. 

He felt that way now as well, the first morning he was back in your cosy apartment, holding you closer than ever as the smell of freshly ground coffee beans reached his nose. Although he still had much more to do that morning before he was ready for the day— he still had to change out of his pyjamas and tackle the birds nest that was the current state of his hair— he allowed himself to rest completely against you, warm cheek rested on your shoulder as his arms squeezed your waist.

“You say that often these days. Do you really miss me that much?” You asked him back as you poured the kettle of boiling water over the grounds in slow circular motions. You had been dating Sion since before he debuted, and the busy schedules he had now certainly put more distance between you two than he was used to.

“All the time. But, when I’m with you, everything else goes away.” He told you softly. Sion was more than excellent at his job, and you could tell how much he loved what he did. He got to perform on big stages and work with his best friends. There were definitely more pros than cons to his job, and he would never even think about doing something else. But one of the biggest cons was the stress and distance. 

You were his way to destress and relax his mind so that when he got back to work, he could lead his members in the best way possible. You could always feel how much weight he was carrying, and all the burdens that he had to face head on. But, thankfully, Sion was easy to please, and didn’t expect you to carry any of his responsibilities. Simply being with you was enough to give his body a reset. That, and tasting your coffee, of course.

“You’ve seriously never thought of opening a coffee shop?” Sion asked, a hint of shock in his voice.

“Never. I don’t think I’d like serving customers that much. You’re the only one who’s tolerable.” You joked, mirroring Sion’s grin. He finished his cup of coffee in the time it took you to only start sipping yours. Naturally, you stood up to serve him a second cup.

“You’re such an addict, Sion.” You giggled at how excited he still got as you placed down the refilled mug. He looked simply adorable, still in his pyjamas with messy hair and puffy face. 

“I know already. Coffee, sleep, and you. The 3 biggest addictions of my life.” He said it proudly, smirking slightly at your shy smile at his addition.

“Someone needs to put you in rehab.” You brushed back some of his hair, revealing his forehead as a clear target for your kiss. 

“Not for you.” He stated clearly, drawing the line for which addictions he could go without. “I hope I’m a lifelong addict.” 

↳ nct wish taglist (bolded could not be tagged): @kangtaehyunzzz,, @eternalgyu,, @lexeees,, @nyukyusnz,, @planetkiimchi,,

@haecien,, @talkingsaxy,, @thesunsfullmoon,, @talking-saxy,, @hursheys,,

@kristianities

[inlovewithalcinadimitrescu]

I am NOT a writer but I found this in my notes and I thought, this doesn’t suck that much- I probably won’t continue it cuz I have mixed feelings and I’m not used to writing. English isn’t my first language so if there’s any mistake that’s why. This is Wandanat x Reader btw.

When you find yourself on a mission that went downhill pretty fast next to the last pair you would like to be alone with, Maximoff and  Romanoff, let's just say that it's not your ideal way to spend the weekend. It's not like you dislike them, on the contrary, you love them so much it makes you mad.

Natasha and Wanda have been in a relationship for years now, when you joined they were already together so it was a sight everybody else would say you've grown accustomed to.

How wrong they are. The truth is that you craved to be the object in between their affection. You were so jealous they shared kisses and touches sitting on the couch of the compound,

"Y/n",

You felt so jealous of the affectionate hugs from behind that Natasha loves to give to her lover,

"Y/n",

Jealous of the kisses on the cheek that Wanda couldn't go half an hour without giving to her lover,

"Y/n?"

Jealous of-

"Y/n!"

Natasha's voice was not rough, just a higher tone destined to get your attention, she leaned to your side to get closer to your ear "We lost you for a second there".

"Oh, sorry, I was just thinking-"

"Yes, we need to do a lot of that to get out of here.” Wanda examined the surroundings with a sharp gaze, she had been shot in the shoulder but she didn't seem fazed by it. "We should try to round the building, there is a safe house that way into the forest" Wanda says way too calmly "Are you sure it's a good idea? We could just try to make the run back to the motorcycles and find a way to communicate with the team." Natasha seemed calm on the outside but you could see the way her eyes gave up the worry towards the condition of her partner. "We can treat Wanda in the safe house, the most important thing right now is to get away from this building, we can't risk either of you getting hurt." Wanda looked at you with a warm smile and those gorgeous green eyes while Natasha just nodded at your words with an unreadable expression.

You took the run, you behind them so if any bullet was shot towards them you'll be the one to receive them. It's worth to say that the powers don't take away the pain, and most importantly every wound you got took a toll on your organism. By the end of the run you looked like you just got out of your grave. Your heart rate would've just have already killed any normal human, your eyes were fighting to stay open, a boiling fever was attempting to kill you too, you could barely breathe and your body screamed for a lie down. And lie down you did. The last thing you heard was your muffled name and the rustling of a person reaching towards you.

Natasha caught you just in time the moment you passed out, "Shit, lyubov' we need to lie her down". (love) Wanda seemed more preoccupied over you than over her wounded shoulder. Both of them entered the safe house, Natasha laid you down on the bed while Wanda looked for the first aid kit.

"There, there, Malysh" (baby) Natasha was wiping your forehead with a wet towel to try and cool your body down. "Natasha?" Natasha looked up from your face and watched as Wanda was nursing her own wound, Natasha left the cold towel on your forehead to tend to her partner. Wanda's eyes were fixated on you while her lover took care of her. "She's going to be ok, malysh" Natasha said as she finished putting bandages on Wanda's wound.

Silence filled the room, unspoken words clinging to their minds. "What are we going to do?" Wanda's question made her partner stare into the eyes of her lover, the intensity of both green eyes didn’t seem to faze either of them, both of them knew what Wanda was referring to. They both glanced at your exhausted body.

Many hours have the duo spent talking about you, many team movie nights have been spent just admiring you, and many other moments have they tried to reach to you but you always seem to be moving in the opposite direction.

Your little secret has been out of the box for a while, one day Wanda heard your thoughts about being with them. She couldn't have been happier to tell her partner that both ways reciprocated, since then they have been trying to get closer to you. "We have to tell her." Natasha interrupted the train of thoughts they both were in.

And that’s it

[intheshadowsbehindyou]

Mercs proposing hc?? So basic but Im literally one corny mf

The TF2 Mercs proposing to their partners

WARNING: Mild gore gifts because this is the Mercs we’re talking about here.

—————————————————————————

Scout:

- Biggest panic attack of his fucking life. Has no idea how to function like a normal human being anymore. It was that feeling of being in love with somebody all over again and needing to tell them. What’s worse about this though is that marriage is a huge commitment. One that many aren’t ready for yet. What if you reject him and he messes this relationship up?

- Goes to Spy for comfort. In all honesty he’s just a very damaged little boy on the inside and scared that he is incapable of receiving unconditional love. The other Mercs catch him behind the base crying into Spy’s shoulder on the curb while Spy holds him. He’s telling Spy how much he loves you; and how terrified he is that you cannot return that same vow. Spy knows the feeling. “Shh, mon lapin.” Boy howdy Spy’s certainly grateful that Scout’s mom didn’t teach him a word of french.

- Spy has to shove Scout into your room to actually finally get him to do it. “Your idiot boyfriend has a few words for you, and apparently I have to be present or i’m certain he’ll break down crying again.” He says to you. While poor Scout curls up into a ball on the floor.

————————————————————————-

Soldier:

- First of all, why him? Second of all, this is the type of guy to go all out and spend half the money he earned in mercenary work to get one of those “will you marry me Y/N?” banners hooked up to a plane. Complete with the pilot being ejected and the plane crashing nose first into a rock formation. Apparently that was 100% intentional because a bunch of confetti came out of the explosion. You don’t know if you should be horrified at the audacity, or head over heels.

- Brings you an entire necklace of ears. But that’s not all! For limited time only you can get one of soldiers’ severed heads that was purposely boiled and skull cut into the shape of a helmet! Great, right? “Wow, what type of animal is this?” You ask. “A DOG. PACKAGED WITH PURE, NO ARTIFICIAL FLAVOR, PASTEURIZED AMERICAN GLORY!” well that’s not reassuring. “OOOHH SAAAAY CAAAAN YOU SEEE—“ Soldier immediately gets hit over the head by Heavy and knocked unconscious.

- After the initial silliness dies down you see adoration as you tend to his awful head wound. Maybe Heavy knocked the stupidity out of him? No. He’s still insane. Soldier grabs your wrist as you apply alcohol to his wound and squeezes your hand. “Somebody like me doesn’t deserve somebody like you.” He says. “Bullshit, Soldier.” You say, leaning in for a kiss.

—————————————————————————

Demoman:

- He can only achieve this when drunk off his mind. Not to mention it arrives in the most unromantic way possible. But it doesn’t make you love him any less. He holds you close to him after a New Years party at the base and pats your back. “Jus’ so you know, you’d look mighty fine with a ring on your finger.” He flirts, getting incredibly physically affectionate. He makes sure never to cross your boundaries.

- “Me mum would kill me but fuck all. y’know? Old wench’s days are numbered anywae. We could live ina nice cottage by the sea.. If ya want wee lil’ bastards I’ll actually take care of em. I’d have to stop me drinkin tho.” He says, pecking your neck. His remaining eye is pleading with you to say yes. “Pleaaase?”

- Has no recollection of these events in the morning so imagine his dumbfounded expression when one of the Mercs asks about his new fiancé. Cue the embarrassment mixed with pride and excitement.

—————————————————————————

Engineer:

- Will 100% go to your window in the dead of night and sing a song for you on his guitar. Particularly I imagine this would be the contender. You have no idea this is even a marriage proposal. You just think he’s being incredibly sappy. Imagine the surprise while mid song he pulls out a small box and throws it up and down recklessly like a baseball. You’re slowly beginning to catch on as he opens it with his free fingers after finishing the song.

- Complete overconfident show off. He pep-talked himself before all this and rehearsed his performance repeatedly. By using the wrangler and effortlessly throwing the box up in the air and propelling it forward with a single bullet, the sentry successfully aided in getting the box up to you. You don’t even know how you managed to catch it, to be honest.

- Tips his hardhat to you. “Whadda say? Marry me?” He can barely contain his smile. Both excited and somewhat relieved he pulled that off.

—————————————————————————

Heavy:

- “Heavy made you dead person crown..” He walks into your room one day and puts it on your head. It’s a bunch of severed ears meant to resemble a flower crown. “Hey, thanks big guy.” You’re grateful for the gift, being a crazed Merc yourself is it really any surprise? You give him a huge kiss on the cheek. Heavy looks thrilled that you accepted his gift. Which is very much unlike him. Usually he’s reserved. Maybe he’s just having a good day?

- Well.. you eventually find out why. That was apparently his way of proposing to you. Soldier nudges you the next morning and teases you for being engaged to Heavy. You’re horrified to say the least. You had no idea this meant marriage. Not that you wouldn’t marry him. But what about his gun Sasha? Wouldn’t she feel jealous? You’ve been with Heavy so long you keep referring to that damn thing as a person.

- Immediately upon seeing you; goes up to you and gives you a list of stuff he wants at this wedding. There’s even a blank page for you to write your own needs. He seems oddly motivated to plan this out months before it actually happens. There is countless mentions of Russian authors he wants to attend the wedding. As if they’d ever consider going to a stranger’s wedding. “If they won’t come then Heavy will crush them..” He says. Same goes for your guests.

—————————————————————————

Pyro:

- Wow.. Kind of the most normal out of all of them. For the most part. If TF2 took place in modern day they’d propose with a ringpop but all they have is a bag of candy and an actual ring (That they may or may not have stolen from someone in Tuefort.)

- They get on their knees and offer the ring to you in an extremely professional manner. It’s quite surreal to see Pyro pull off something so domestic and normal when he’s always destroying stuff with fire. In fact this is a little too normal.. This is Team Fortress we’re talking about here. Shouldn’t something be wacky happening right about now? It’s like the perfect opening for slapstick. Through your cries of love and laughter you begin to feel anxious at the back of your head.

- Yup.. There it is. Pyro tells you that Scout offered to be the ‘Ring bear’ for the wedding. There’s Scout dressed up in a cutesy teddy bear costume. You’re certain that’s not how it works. “Just for the record, if you tell anybody about this, I’ll fuckin’ saw off both your knees boston sandwich style. Capeesh?” He says. You have no idea what that means so you quickly agree.

————————————————————————-

Sniper:

- Afraid he’s going to mess it up, much like Scout. Gets incredibly physically ill as a result from stress and isolates himself in his camper van. You’re convinced he wants to tell you something but you have no idea what it is. One day on the frontlines an arrow narrowly misses your face and embeds itself into the wall next to you. You were about to turn around and bombard Sniper until you saw the note attached to it. “Pardon, Will you marry me? -Sniper.” With a very worried sad face drawn next to the note. He even bothered to draw his hat on it.

- Disbelief clouds your face at first. Sniper? Marry another Merc? You’re in shock. This isn’t something you’d ever suspect from a guy like him. But your initial thought makes way for an uncontrollable smile.

- He literally will not approach you first after this. You have to knock on his camper van because god knows he won’t be even able to face his team for months. As you jump into his arms and kiss him he immediately pulls you inside to love on you in private.

———————————————————————-

Medic:

- WOULD RATHER SHOOT HIMSELF

- Just kidding. But he wishes he were dead right now. How could he do something so… Un-mad-sciencey? Marriage is just a concept brought upon by money hungry people. It only exists within the mind… Yet, that’s how he feels. An eternal vow to you is something he wishes to do. He’s already planned to make you a god alongside him once the time came so you could be his beloved consort forever. It reminded him of the greek story of soulmates.

- Gets a little fruitier than usual. The most feminine moan you ever heard left this man’s body as you brushed against him while trying to help him grab a syringe he dropped. This man gets unusually hornier and that’s how you know something’s up.. “Looking up my skirt, I see!” He says, as you glance up his long lab coat. There isn’t anything there but his pants so you roll your eyes. “Ah yes.. “ You respond. You decide he’s just clingy and horny as usual and carry about your assistance. You’re not in the mood for that. He never even bottoms so he’s feigning it anyway.

- “Err—Uh— Ho! Wouldn’t it be just shameful if I knew what was going on inside your head?” He asks. “Alright, i’ll bite. What are you saying, Doc?” You sigh. He fixes his glasses back up on his face thoughtfully. “One body, one mind. That would be quite intriguing don’t you think? If we were to.. Become one.” He placed an odd amount of emphasis on that, as if the thought was simply music to his ears. Lord he’s creepy. Medic grabs you and holds you close to him. “Think of the possibilities. We’d never be lonely again. I could stitch our bodies together and we could feel each other’s essence. Forever.”

- “Medic, you good?” You ask. Although his words were strangely flattering nonetheless in their own way. You smile at him. He seems to be lost in the idea. Fantasies of being with you for eternity flood his head. Particularly ones where you’re both a weird hybrid god. Weirdest marriage proposal world record goes to Medic.

—————————————————————————-

Spy:

- No, no no no no no. He can’t do this again. Marriage never worked out for him. After losing Scout’s mom and many partners that followed, he couldn’t bare hurting somebody like that again. His job always got in the way of what he truly desired but he had to live with it. This life chose him after all. His hand was forced into this position. Seeing your bright smile for the rest of his days was all he ever wanted. His urges to get up and say something to you were too strong.

- Has to metaphorically slap himself in the face and remind himself to act like a fucking adult. He wasn’t a little rambunctious teenager in Paris anymore. Yet he felt like one whenever he saw you. Such boyish feelings for an old put together gentleman like him. Spy decided to trust you and himself. But if something went wrong he wouldn’t hesitate to jump off a fucking cliff. Spy would stare at his reflection in the bathroom mirror for hours and contemplate his decision before making it.

- He proposes to you under a starry moonlit night. Not even bothering to kneel down, he slides the box across the balcony to you. “Well?” he asks, taking a long drag of his cigarette. His eyes fixated on the horizon. “Do I have to say it?” He asks. “Yes..” You tell him. Your eyes gleaming with joy. You never felt happier in your entire life. “Fine.. Will you marry m—“ He couldn’t even finish before you jump on him, ultimately knocking you both down.

[kuronekobaji]

literally gonna torch this place I GOT A REQUESTTT FROM BAJISDARLING I THINK BUT I CANT FIND THE BLOG ?? ANYWAY. TYYY FOR REQUESTING I LOVE U SO MUCH

warnings: smut from the middle to the end [kind of, it’s left on a cliffhanger he gets ready to eat you out], mentions of foolish animal abuse [feeding chocolates to dogs, outdoor cats], not proofread, sorrryyyyyyyy

synopsis: your husband, keisuke, comes home after a frustrating day at work. what better way to relieve his stress than lose himself in you?

note: this is so fucking short like 700 words MAX i thinkkk idk i didn’t do a wc but yeah… he’s a vet in this because eh . i highkey forgot how to write so this is complete and utter ass but i hope it’s half decent,, PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE SEND ME REQUESTS PLEASE I’LL BEG ON MY KNEES PLE

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT !!!

-𐙚𓏲⋆ ִֶָ ๋𓂃 ⋆ᡣ𐭩

keisuke practically slams the door open, anger simmering underneath the surface of his not-so-stoic expression. he had an absolute clusterfuck of a day, and he really wanted nothing more than to melt into you completely; forget about the assholes he had the displeasure of encountering earlier and simply hold you like his own personal teddy bear. in lots of ways, you were.

he hurriedly locks the door and takes a brief moment to just… admire you. naturally, his expression softens at your presence, the sight of you laid up and sitting on the couch doing a bit to calm his boiling blood.

your eyes snap to the sounds at the door, and you brighten at the sight of your husband. although you can tell he’s not in a good mood, you know he’s not going to take it out on you — not violently or verbally, atleast — and you’re aware that he just needs you right now.

“sweetheart,” you murmur as he practically turns into a dreary puddle and stumbles over to you. he’d never get enough of the way your voice sounds, especially when you call out so lovingly to him.

“doll…” he groans, falling into your open arms and suddenly hoisting you up by the hips and outer thigh to pull you into a position where he could comfortably rest on you.

“bad day?”

“tch. understatement of the goddamn century,” he rasps, deep voice muffled by your chest as he lays atop you and in between your legs. “these goddamn owners don’t know what the hell they’re doing.”

you hum inquisitively, fingers reaching up to gently stroke his dark locks. he sighs, burrowing further into your warm embrace and taking it as a sign to elaborate.

“some goddamn moron decided to feed their dog chocolate cake and wondered why it fell sick,” he deadpans, irritation already finding its way back to him — until the sensation of you surrounds him once more. “next, an ‘outdoor cat owner’ complained to me ‘cause their cat contracted some diseases. swear to god, there should be some legal form to sign for anyone who decides to adopt these animals. i’m so fuckin’ tired of this bullshit, couldn’t wait to get home to ya.”

an understanding noise comes from your throat. he nuzzles your chest, gratitude bubbling inside his own. there would never be enough words to express how much he loved you, how much you mattered to him — but you, being the damn angel you were, already knew.

“all of it’s pissing me off. woulda socked those motherfuckers in the face but i got the sweetest wife in the world to come to, so…”

you laugh softly, heat rising to your cheeks just like it did when he’d compliment you all those years ago. the sound of your seraphic giggles ebb away at the dread in him, fondness stirring in his russet hues.

“oi. it ain’t damn funny,” he playfully calls out, wanting to hear more of your laughter.

“sorry, sorry, i— ahah— you’re too… good to me. i love you.” your tone flows over with tenderness, making his heart skip a beat for a moment.

“i love you,” he sincerely remarks, kissing the closest part of you he could reach. “more than you realise.”

a loving smile is exchanged between you two, and your digits gently begin to massage his scalp. he gasps, the affectionate nature in your fingertips setting off a blaze in him. a groan of pleasure tears from him him, his body leaning into your touch. it came to you reflexively, like an instinct. you knew exactly how to push his buttons; where to touch, where to bite, where to kiss — there was much more, but it’d take a good few hours to complete that list.

either way, you loved drawing those pleased noises from him, loved hearing his rich and normally flat voice change into something full of affection and weakness for you, and only you.

“goddamn…” he breathes, “shoulders too. please.”

you oblige, hands beginning to work out the tension in his broad shoulders and chiseled shoulderblades.

“fuck. your hands are so damn soft,” he comments, euphoria shooting throughout him at each touch. his eyes then find yours, gazes locking in a shared time of adoration. “you’re… so soft.”

feeling a slight pull in the air, it’s as if the atmosphere itself leads both of your mouths to connect in a short time between two lovers.

however, the kiss deepens, things happen, and before you know it, your hands are desperately pawing at each other. his tongue pushes into your mouth, over and over, and he pulls away every time with spit bridging the tips of your tongues.

he grunts as he shifts, “wait.”

as he kneels, he swiftly strips himself of his shirt. your gaze quickly zeroes in on his muscular physique, scarred and toned body. his half-lidded eyes darken. without your consciousness, your hand reaches out and your fingertips trace a few of his scars. you could count each and every single one, with a blindfold and without.

his breath still falters when you touch him like that. so gently, so reverently — as if he’s some fragile thing that needs to be treated delicately. he didn’t think of himself as so, but it seemed like you did. not that he’d ever disliked it, it was just… unusual. until you came into his life, that is.

inevitably, your irises drift to that patch of curly, dark hair trailing from his stomach, down his v-line and to his crotch. you swallow, trying not to dwell on that topic in fear of turning this intimate moment into something more physical.

it was the easiest thing in the world for keisuke to notice your behaviour, though, and that the way your thighs just clenched.

“c’mere,” he gruffly mumbles, snatching you by your thighs and placing you on his lap before you could react. a smirk pulls at his dry lips. “attagirl. quiet ‘n let me rest on you, yeah?”

flustered at the praise, you nod. his face comes close to your neck, and your breath hitches as he inhales your scent like you’re a drug. he plants a few kisses across the sensitive skin, before his canines sink in and his teeth leave a mark. at the little squeak you let out, his tongue soothes over the bite, and he starts getting bolder.

large hands sneak underneath your shirt, palming one of your breasts without shame. the smirk on his mouth widens just a smidge, an almost sinister gleam in his sharp caramel eyes.

“hmph. bet you’re gettin’ wet too,” he murmurs, wanton voice dropping to a whisper. his other palm drifts to your ass, giving it a ‘smack’, before he proposes something that sends your stomach pooling with butterflies. “why don’t we check?”

in the blink of an eye, his hand is in your panties, already finding your dampness. a bark of laughter erupts from him, he’s almost tempted to coo at your adorable noises of embarrassment.

“keisuke!” you cry out, and he grins, baring those sharp teeth he’d never get tired of marking you up with.

“mm? screaming my name already, huh? we haven’t even begun yet,” he drawls, tone carrying a promise and a threat. “i’ll do a favor for ya and take these off,” he whispers, ripping your panties apart with one hand and shoving you onto your back. he immediately stares at your pussy, muttering, “there’s my girl.”

he brings your legs over the expanse of his wide shoulders, face inching closer between your aching thighs. holding you has always felt so right; the sensation of your softness in his greedy palms.

looking up at you with a blazing hunger, his breath fans over your clit. “keep your hands in my hair. i’m still damn frustrated, so i’m gonna eat this pussy ‘til i’m satisfied. you got that, angel?”

you suck in a breath. “mhm.”

“good girl.”

this was going to be a long night.

[cowboykento]

Come on Barbie, Let's Go Party!

characters: nanami kento x fem!reader x gojo satoru (nanami x reader is the main pair/relationship.)

warnings: slight dub-con (everyone is a little drunk), alcohol consumption, threesome, face fucking, hair pulling, degradation (they call reader a slut (usually affectionately) a lot), dialogue heavy, other nicknames used (princess, angel, sweetheart, sweet thing, little girl, etc.), no protection used bc i didn’t even think about it (be safer than this irl!!!). let me know if i missed anything big here.

word count: 2.5k

minors and blank blogs dni or i'll block you :3

You were shocked Kento had agreed to go to Gojo’s halloween party, although it hadn’t been without effort on your part. You’d first mentioned the idea almost as soon as Gojo had asked you—an intentional move on his part, he knew the only way to get Nanami there was through you—but Kento had said no. 

That didn’t dissuade you, however, and after showing him countless pictures of cute couple’s costumes that you knew the two of you could pull off incredibly well. It had been the Barbie and Ken costumes that had finally won him over in the end. Well, more truthfully it was the outfit you’d shown him for your Barbie costume that sealed the deal. 

It wasn’t a conventional costume, or really even a costume at all by itself. You’d picked out a cute, two-piece pink dress, a white headband to match, and some frilly pink and white stockings. You knew exactly what you were doing, and Kento knew that you knew how to win him over, but that didn’t convince him enough not to finally agree.

Now that you guys were at the party, you could tell Nanami is restless to go home, and has been since you’d arrived. Nobody could deny that the two of you were the most attractive couple there, but Kento knows all eyes are really on you and your short skirt and pretty top that showed off the perfect amount of skin. 

The more depraved part of Kento thinks he should have left marks along your throat and collarbone for everyone to see, and you probably would have let him, too. Instead, he’s forced to stand dormantly and do everything in his power not to pull you away from Satoru’s wolfish smile and charming words. 

Truthfully, Kento isn’t having a bad time at all. In fact, he’s enjoying himself much more than he thought he would—only because he can shamelessly ogle you as you talk to everyone and could drink free booze, but he’s still having a good time nonetheless.

You’re plenty drunk yourself, anyone with a set of eyes could tell, but Nanami knows better than anyone. You’re being careless—more than you can afford to be with the skimpy little outfit you’d chosen. Part of him, the more jealous and unreasonable part of him thinks maybe you were doing it on purpose, just to rile him up, but he tries to quell those thoughts and blame it on the liquor. 

What he refuses to blame on the alcohol, however, is the way Satoru looks at you. Sure, he’s guilty of exactly the same thing, but you’re his. You’re not Satoru’s, and Kento can feel his blood boiling with the way Gojo eyes you up like he doesn’t know fully well that you’re taken. 

Eventually, Kento makes his way over to you, wrapping an arm around your waist as you smile brightly at him, thrilled to see him like you’d forgotten he had come with you. 

“Ken!” you shout, smile nearly reaching your ears as you stand shakily on your tiptoes to press a sloppy kiss to his cheek. 

“Hey, angel,” he replies, voice much softer than yours but just as full of affection. “Are you having fun?”

You nod quickly, “Mhm! We were just about to play a game! You should play with us!”

Kento frowns—he’d been hoping you’d be just about ready to leave by now, but alas it seems like you’re having the time of your life. 

“I don’t know, princess,” he starts hesitantly before suddenly a new weight has landed on his shoulders.

“C’mon Nanamin!” Gojo shouts, “It’ll be fun!”

Kento shrugs Gojo off, “Yeah, I’m not sure I want to be involved in anything you consider fun, Gojo.”

Before Gojo has a chance to be offended, you’re batting your eyelashes up at your boyfriend, “Aww, but Ken, what if I say it’ll be fun? Please?”

Nanami’s jaw clenches. You know as well as he does that he’ll never be able to deny you when you look up at him all pretty. He scrubs a hand over his face and sighs, trying to ignore your and Satoru’s anticipation as you wait for his reply.

“Fine, I’ll play.”

****

About four rounds of shots and a game that’s devolved into something unrecognizable and Kento’s never wished he had more willpower to tell you no than he does now. 

You’re sitting pretty on Kento’s lap, have been since he agreed to play, and he’d be lying if he said he isn’t turned on right now. Your skirt, which was already so short you had to be careful how you moved, had ridden up just enough that the only thing keeping everyone else at the party from seeing your panties was Kento’s hand placed on your thighs. Unfortunately for him, that also means he can feel every time you rub your thighs together when he would whisper something into your ear. He isn’t even trying to get you worked up, but it was working nonetheless, and he knows it.

“You wanna feel good, sweetheart?” Kento whispers, fingers dancing along the hem of your skirt.

You turn in towards Nanami more, trying to hide yourself from everyone else as you clench your thighs together in a desperate attempt to feel any relief between your legs. At this point, the only people left at the party are Satoru, Suguru, Shoku, and Haibara, and they’ve all turned into their own conversations, ignoring you and Nanami. 

You look up at him, your eyes wide and a bit watery—Kento isn’t sure how he let you get this drunk, but he’s far from sober himself at this point and doesn’t have the mind to think about anything other than making you feel good. You nod desperately, hanging on to the front of his shirt like he’s the only thing keeping you tethered to Earth.

His fingers reach farther up your thighs as he kisses along your neck. It takes the little shreds of dignity and control you have left in you not to moan out. His thick, demanding fingers reach your panties, his thumb ghosting over your throbbing clit. 

“Kento,” you groan into his ear, “need you so bad, need to feel good, please.”

“I know princess, I know. But you gotta keep quiet for me, yeah? Don’t want all of our friends to hear you being a little slut at Satoru’s party, do you?”

You shake your head as Kento continues thumbing at your soaked-through panties, making your head spin with pleasure. 

“You’re so wet for me, sweet thing. You’ve got no shame, do you, princess? That’s okay, I’ll take care of you even if you’re a slut.”

You can’t help the whimper that escapes your lips, and instantly Kento’s actions halt.

“Be good,” he pinches your thigh, warning you. “If you make another sound, I’ll have to stop. Understand?”

“Mhm, I’ll be good, promise.”

Kento kisses your temple, as he continues circling your clit, “That’s my girl.”

You can’t help but grind down into the little bit of pressure Kento’s providing, so desperate for your release and mind so foggy from lust and alcohol.

“So close, Ken, ‘m so close,” you whimper as quietly as possible.

“I know, sweetheart, I know,” he replies huskily, slipping a thick finger into your wet heat. “Cum for me, baby.”

Your orgasm shakes your body, jolts of electricity pulsing throughout you as you bite down on your lip to hold back the moan that tries to rip through you. 

You’re panting as Kento puts your panties back into place and presses a kiss to your shaking lips. 

“You finally ready to leave, princess?”

“You better be,” Satoru’s voice interrupts. “Been waiting for the two of you to be done so I can start cleaning up. Thought Nanamin would have a little more decency, but I guess even he can’t help himself around a pretty thing like you.”

Neither you nor Kento had noticed that everyone else had filtered out of Satoru’s apartment, but now instead of pleasure you feel a hot flash of embarrassment rush through your body. 

“Are you jealous, Satoru?” Nanami’s voice cuts through the awkwardness shockingly. You turn to him, eyes wide and misunderstanding his boldness. 

Satoru takes a step toward the two of you, gently grabbing your chin to force your gaze to fall on him, rather than Kento. 

“Mmm, I just might be. She’s real pretty like this, isn’t she?” Satoru teases, looking over your head and  at Nanami like you’re not even there. 

“Of course,” Nanami replies, something in his voice challenging Satoru. He grabs a fistful of your hair, not too roughly but enough to force tears to prick at the corners of your eyes as he turns you back towards him. “What do you think, princess? I think Satoru wants me to share you. My sweet little girl. Don’t know if he’s worth sharing you with.”

Nanami’s expression is hard to read, especially with the traces of alcohol still in your body, but it’s not hard to feel the swell of his dick underneath you, stretching against the fabric of his pants. 

“Do you wanna give Satoru a turn with you, baby?”

Your eyes are wide and wet, and Nanami’s grip pulling at your roots is only making thinking straight that much more difficult. Still, you whisper out a shy, “Y- yeah.”

He pulls your head back to kiss your neck harshly, sucking a dark bruise into the skin. 

“Knew you were a little slut. Good thing you’re so pretty and perfect,” he speaks into your neck. “I’ll let Satoru have a turn with you, but remember who you belong to, princess.”

He presses another kiss to your lips before releasing his hold on you and letting Satoru pull you back towards him. 

“He’s right, you really are a slutty little girl, letting him finger fuck you right here on my couch at my party,” Gojo teases, pulling you off Nanami’s lap and onto his. “How sweet of Nanami to warm up your little pussy for me.”

You moan loudly at his words as he flips your skirt up, fully revealing the pretty pink panties you’d picked out just to match your costume. 

“Oh, you’re such a doll. All dressed up just for my party? Almost like you knew we’d slut you out right here. Or maybe that’s what you wanted this whole time? What do you think, Nanamin?” 

Nanami has since pulled his dick out of the confines of his costume pants, fisting it slowly to the sight of you hovering over Gojo, “Seems just about right to me. Is that what you wanted, princess? For me to share you? To get your slutty little pussy fucked right in front of everyone? Could’ve just asked, sweetheart, didn’t have to be a tease.”

“Please,” you whimper to Gojo as he unzips his own pants, pulling your panties to the side and lining himself up with your quivering cunt. “Please, want it so bad.” 

Gojo clicks his tongue, “You’ve taught her well, Nanami. She begs so pretty for me.” He turns his attention back toward you, hitting his dick against your sensitive clit a few times before pushing into your tight heat. 

Both you and Satoru moan loudly as he enters you. He doesn’t take any time at all before bucking his hips up into you fiercely, and you hold onto his shoulders for dear life. 

“Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck,” you moan, throwing your head back as Satoru pounds into your cunt. 

“Shit,” he moans, “Fuck, this pussy is so fucking good.” 

You hear Kento moan from where he sits, and the thought of him watching you get fucked by Satoru is only turning you on more. You want to put on a show for him, to make him so jealous he comes and steals you away from Satoru and takes his turn fucking you. 

Instead, Kento stands and grabs a fistful of your hair once again, pulling your head back to look up at him. Your body is alight as Nanami tells you to open your mouth before he spits directly onto your tongue, staking his claim to you as you swallow. 

“Turn her around, Satoru,” he commands, “I’m gonna fuck her slutty little throat.” 

Satoru is quick to oblige, the thought of you taking both of their dicks turning everyone on even more. He takes no time in returning to his brutal pace, fucking up into your pussy and chasing his own orgasm desperately. 

“Open wide for me, sweetheart,” Nanami tells you, pressing the tip of his dick against your lips before you comply, taking as much of his length in as you can manage. You hold onto Nanami for balance, Satoru’s thrusts pushing you to take even more of Kento’s dick in your mouth, forcing tears to fall down your cheeks. 

Kento groans loudly, his grip on your hair firm as he fucks himself into your tight throat. His pace isn’t quite as fierce as Satoru’s but it’s overwhelming nonetheless. 

“Fuck, princess, tight little pussy’s sucking me right in. I’m so close, want me to fill you up nice and good?” Satoru pants. 

“You better fucking not,” Nanami replies sharply, his hand squeezes your hair even tighter and you yelp. “That pussy doesn’t take anyone’s cum except mine.” 

Satoru moans even louder at that, his thrusts becoming erratic as he nears his orgasm. You’re close too, the coil in your tummy tightening so much that you think a wayward gust of air on your clit would send you hurtling into bliss. 

You look up at Kento with tears in your eyes, his big thumb brushing them away as they fall down your cheeks. 

“Are you close, angel?” He coos sweetly. “Look so gorgeous like this, letting both of us stuff you full. Cum for me, sweetheart, go ahead.” 

It only takes two more thrusts from Satoru to finally send you over the edge, your vision whiting out as you cream around Satoru’s dick. You gargle around Nanami’s cock as you cum, the vibrations only getting him that much closer. 

Satoru pulls out shortly after you finish, and you only have a second to be confused before you feel his hot seed shoot all over your back, his voice pitching as he lets out a loud, whiny moan. 

Kento continues fucking your throat, his pace picking up as he chases his climax, “So perfect for me, sweetheart. Fuck, gonna swallow everything I have to give you, won’t you?”

You do your best to nod, and that’s all it takes for Nanami to shoot hot ropes of cum down your throat, groaning loudly and pulling your hair, forcing you to take him all the way to the base. 

When the last of him is spent, Nanami pulls out of your throat tiredly and flops onto the couch next to you and Satoru. None of you can remember a time in your life you’d cum that hard before, the overwhelming pleasure enough to wake you mostly out of your drunkenness. 

You curl into Nanami, your breath still ragged and your bones reduced to nothingness. Nanami rubs a hand along your back as he catches his own breath, and Satoru gets up to fetch water and a washcloth. 

You tilt your head up to look at Kento with glassy, worn out eyes and a tired smile, “And you said you didn’t even wanna come to this ‘stupid party.’” 

“Yeah, well, I didn’t. You’re lucky you’re irresistible, you little minx. Made this night interesting for all of us.”

i literally wrote this at work i don't even know what came over me. did not plan this or even think about it before words started pouring out of me. didn't even plan on including nanami hair pulling but what is a girl to do after the new episode ??? n e ways hope you all enjoyed as much as i do :3

commissions open!

[graveyardgremlins]

WIP ALERT WIP ALERT

What makes death so special that everyone seems so scared to talk about it? It is not as if, in this universe, it’s the end of the line. Not really. If anything, it felt more like the beginning of something.

Now, routine feels like the end of it all. Even when you’re a vigilante and everyday is a surprise, it still feels like slowly withering away. Like, if you stop moving you’re going to start rotting on the spot. But for some reason, people love routine and hate death.

Dick, for example, constantly looks terrified. It’s not obvious, as no feeling in our faces is ever obvious, but I can tell it’s there. He once said, mournfully, that we would bury Bruce like he is now, with jet black hair. The thought upset him, but I still don’t understand why. It’s not as if Bruce cares. Sometimes it feels like he is trying to speed up the process.

And sure, it would suck not to be able to see someone you care about ever again. But if Dick truly is so scared of missing Bruce, he can go knocking on Constantine’s door — or Zatanna’s, or Madame Xanadu’s, or Doctor Fate’s, or Jason Blood’s, or… you get my point — and ask for a seance. Besides, it’s not as if you can say the guy wasted his life. No one on this Earth has more accomplishments under his belt than Batman himself.

So why the long face?

Like, sure I get why they look weird every time I bring up my past death. I was a kid and all that. But they seriously need to stop looking at me like I’m planning to kill myself everytime I bring up my future death. I’m not planning to die any time soon, but what if I do? Are they going to lose their shit again?

I mean, Tim literally cloned his best friend as a manner to bring him back from the dead because he couldn’t cope with him being gone. Not to say I’m terribly worried about the Imposter missing me so much as to clone me, but still. What if I die? Are they going to try to bring me back? Because I don’t think I want that.

Death was easy, you know? It was awful up until the point where it wasn’t. I don’t remember much, but I remember being warm and embraced. And then someone dragged me back screaming and kicking. Then I woke up boiling alive, with the skin falling off my bones in the middle of the Assassin’s League Headquarters.

I’m not particularly excited about being boiled alive again.

No one in this family knows how to let go and Bruce is the worst one. I used to be so mad that his grief wasn’t enough to make him kill the Joker. I wanted him to prove that he loved me like he said he did. But I was a recently deceased and resurrected teenager. I firmly believe that the only reason Jesus reacted better to being murdered is because he was already thirty three. Now, as an adult, I’m less mad.

Bruce deals with grief like this: he doesn’t. He lets it eat him away. I think he likes it, the feeling of rotting from the inside out. Maybe that’s why he likes routine too. I think he has a lot of love inside of him that, instead of showing it, he reschedules it. Like he thinks “tomorrow I’ll show it” and then never does. And when I died, maybe he didn’t have anywhere to put that love anymore. There wouldn’t be any more “tomorrows.” So he just rotted.

It’s why I try not to be jealous about how endlessly patient and affectionate he is with Damian. Or how careful he is with Tim. Or how much interest he takes in everything Duke does. Or how he always listens when Steph talks. Or how he always comes when Cass calls him. At least, I served to teach him a lesson. 

So, yeah, when I got an invitation to a Ghost Ball, I didn’t tell anyone. Because they don’t understand why I linger in the cemetery. They don’t understand why I kill, when they believe I should be the first one to be against death. They don’t understand why I keep talking about dying over and over and over. They just don’t get it.

Also, they would totally ruin this moment for me. I’m sure of it.

How many times do you get invited to a ball? Not those shitass galas the Waynes always go to. A real authentic 1800’s ball. With the lettering cursive invitation, sprayed with some kind of perfume, sealed with a gold wax coat of arms. Not only that! To what was an official celebration to the Ghost King’s 21th birthday.

I didn’t even know there was a Ghost King!

Sure, it’s probably a trap. This kind of thing is always a trap. But they had addressed the invitation to “The Red Knight of Gotham, Avenger of the Damned, Cursebreaker, Three Times Born, Wielder of the All-Blades, the Darkest Star” and, if I am to be honest, flattery will get you everywhere with me.

I’m not entirely sure what the “Darkest Star” was in reference to, but it’s the least of my concern. The theme of the ball was Black, White and Neon Green, which completely fucks up my aesthetic. The last time I wore green I was a Robin and I’m particularly inclined to never wear it again. I’m also not wearing a tuxedo. Maybe a black suit over the armor instead of the usual jacket and a neon green handkerchief.

Now the problem is getting fitted for a suit like that. Every rich motherfucker knows that just sending your measurements to a tailor that never met you in person before is the recipe for a disaster. And sure as hell there is not a single tailor in the Crime Alley. Not that I know of. And there is no way in hell, or heaven or wherever the flying fuck the Infinity Realms were, I’m showing up to a real ball looking anything short of dreamy.

So, I did the reasonable thing and texted Alfred.

If you could come by the Manor, Master Jason, I will see what can be done. He texted back.

There is a theory going around the midst of superheroes that says that the one thing all of the bats have in common is how stubborn we are. It’s true, but I don’t think we learned that from Bruce. I’m pretty sure that’s just the Pennyworth in all of us. That man clearly only still works as a butler at 65 and calls us all “master”, “miss”, “mister” and “ma’am” out of pure stubbornness. I have no evidence of this, but I’m working on the theory that someone at some point betted that he would crack eventually, which is why he hasn’t. That I know of.

So, I showed up at the Manor like he asked me to.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Tim asked.

“I live here,” I answered.

“No, you don’t.”

“Unless someone touched my room, which I doubt, then yes, I do.”

“When was the last time you were here?”

“Last week. I dropped by to move all your furniture 1 inch to the left counterclockwise.”

“I knew it! I knew someone was touching my stuff! Steph said I was crazy!”

“You are, but I touched your stuff. Like all of it. Including your Monster collection. You should really clean that, by the way. It’s disgusting.”

“Fuck you.”

Someone cleaned their throat and we both turned around to see Alfred standing in the hallway, looking less than impressed. I’m pretty sure we learned that from him too.

“Sorry, Alfred,” Tim said.

Alfred sighed and then turned his frown towards me.

“What? I didn’t curse.”

He raised one pointed eyebrow and that’s all it took.

“Sorry for touching your stuff, Timberlake,” I said and turned to Alfred again. “Happy?”

“I suppose that will suffice.”

“Yeah, fine,” Tim agreed and moved out of the way to let me in. “Just never do it again.”

“Oh, I’m definitely doing it again.”

“Why?!”

“Dick told me to stop whining and start getting on that, and I quote, ‘big brother grind’, so you and the Demon brat are going to have to endure it.”

“Why not Duke?”

“He is obviously my favorite.”

Tim just groaned and followed us to one of the upstairs closet.

“What are we doing anyway?”

“We are doing nothing. You weren’t invited.”

“Master Jason is getting fitted for a new suit,” Alfred said, ignoring me.

“Why?” Tim asked.

“What are you? A Toddler? Why do you think?”

“Well, you sure as hell aren’t going to the galas—”

“Damn right, I won’t.”

“And you’re definitely not going on a date—”

“Wait, why?”

“Because.”

I turned around to fully face him. “What do you mean ‘because’?”

“Just because,” Tim made a vague gesture with his hand. “You know.”

“No. As a matter of fact, I don’t know.”

“You know,” He gestured again. “Because.”

“Because what?”

“You’re chronically single.”

“What?!”

Tim threw himself on one of the sofas that was turned towards the closet and sank into it. “Chronically single. Chronically, meaning in a persistent and recurring—”

“I know what chronically single means!”

“Then you know.”

“I’m not chronically single!”

“How long ago was your last relationship and how long did it last?”

“That does not mean I’m chronically single! I get bitches all the time!”

“Perhaps, Master Jason, refraining from referring to your partners in a demeaning manner might be the first step to improving your romantic aptitudes.”

“I don’t– I’m not– Ugh!”

“Try this suit on. I think it will be the closest to your current measurements.”

I took the suit from his hand and closed the closet door behind me.

“So,” Tim said, “If you’re not going to a gala, you’re not going to a date, then where are you going?”

“None of your business.”

“It’s not a birthday, because I’m pretty sure none of your friends is an Aquarius–”

He kept talking and I tuned him out. The pants were a bit too tight around the knees, so they would have to fix that, and the jacket sleeves were a little too short. Besides that, I liked the red lining inside, as well as the flower pattern that almost disappeared into the black. It wasn’t very on the theme, and I would risk looking a bit christmassy, but it would be worth it. I did need a neon green handkerchief, though.

“It can’t be Two-Face, because he is still in Arkham and also not your usual target. Black Mask has been quiet, so maybe him,” Tim was, somehow, still talking.

“What are you talking about?” I asked, opening the closet door to let Alfred take a look.

“People you might be planning to make a move against in a place where a suit might be necessary.”

“Maybe I just want a suit, ever thought of that?”

“You’re fitting it over armor,” Tim pointed out.

“Touché.”

“Tt, it’s too tight around your knees,” Alfred commented.

“Yeah,” I agreed. “Oh, Alfred? Do you by any chance have a neon green handkerchief?”

Alfred made a face. “I do not own any monstrosity of that sort, Master Jason. Why do you ask?”

“Because the theme is Black, White and Neon Green.”

“Wait, you’re actually crashing a party?”

Alfred sighed and made another disgusted face. “In that case… This suit won’t do.”

“Sorry, Alfred. I didn’t write the dress code.”

“Of course not, Master Jason. I would expect that you would have a better sense for fashion than that.”

“And for your information, I’m not crashing a party. I was invited. Not that you know what that’s like, Stalker.”

“Who would invite you to anything?!”

“Not telling.”

“C’mon!”

“Perhaps the Zegna will look less… clown-like with a neon green handkerchief than the Armani,” Alfred said, mostly to himself.

“Did I hear, Armani?” Selina’s honey-dripping voice came from the corridor, and she poked her head inside the room. “What are you boys doing hiding here?”

“I’m getting fitted for a suit.”

“He is going to a party and I’m trying to figure out which one,” Tim answered at the same time as me.

“Oh! That sounds fun! Do you need help, Alfred?” She asked and slid into the sofa next to Tim.

“I’m afraid I am at a loss, Miss Kyle. The theme of the evening is Black, White and, ugh, Neon Green.”

She made a face very much like Alfred’s own. “Where are you going, Kit Kat? The Riddler’s birthday isn’t until July.”

“Not telling you, either.”

She pouted and pulled Tim’s face near her own, he understood what she was doing a minute later and pouted too. “Please?” They said, like children.

“Nope. Not happening.”

Selina shrugged it off, not particularly bothered, but Tim seemed to still be fixated on the issue. 

“Have you tried that Slim-fit Hugo Boss brown suit, Alfred? I think it will make him look distinguished amongst the neon green aberration,” she said.

“Is it a winter party of some kind?” Tim asked.

“Not giving you any tips, Timmy.”

“Actually, Master Jason, that could help us find a better suit.”

I sighed. “I don’t think it is specifically a winter party. I think it's just a coincidence.”

“So it is a celebration of some kind!”

“I’m. Not. Telling. You.”

“No need. I will find out eventually.”

Alfred brought out the Hugo Boss brown suit and held it up for Selina to see. 

“I think it will clash, Miss Kyle,” he said.

“I think you’re right, Alfred,” She tapped one manicured finger to her lips. “This party is not of someone we know. Is it, Kit Kat?”

I shrugged.

“Why do you say that, Selina?” Tim asked.

“Motherly instincts.”

The door behind them opened again, this time to reveal a mildly disgruntled looking Bruce. His hair was a mess and he was wearing a sweater and sweatpants. He was definitely sick.

“What are you guys doing here?”

“Are you sick, old man?”

He sniffed. “Seasonal allergies.”

“Jason is getting fitted for a suit,” Selina answered.

“Oh?”

“And I’m trying to find out why.”

“Oh.”

“You guys are nosy,” I said.

Alfred brought out another slim-fit suit and both Selina and Bruce made a face. “Yes, I imagined so,” Alfred said, disappointed.

“What kind of party is it, chum?”

“Not telling.”

“The theme is Black, White and Neon Green,” Selina said, and both her, Alfred and Bruce grimaced.

“Jason, please tell me you’re not going to the Riddler’s birthday party.”

“Of course, he isn’t, silly. The Riddler’s birthday is July 21st.”

“Oh! Should I send a present?”

“It would be very polite,” Alfred said and Selina agreed.

“If this party is of someone we don’t know then it must be someone you met recently or a very long time ago. But if it was from someone you used to know, you probably wouldn’t be using an expensive suit, and if it was someone new we would have heard of it already,” Tim said.

“What makes you think it is someone we don’t know?” Bruce asked.

Selina raised her hand with a cheeky smile. “If we knew them already, little Kit Kat wouldn’t be so worried about imprrrressing them. We would have embarrassed him already.”

“I’m not worried about impressing anyone.”

“You’re getting fitted for a suit,” she pointed out.

“Yes, because I outgrew all my other suits and I can’t wear them with the armor. It’s not as if I’m buying a new one,” I rolled my eyes.

“If you’re wearing your armor are you worried about being attacked?” Bruce asked.

“Is it a mission then?” Tim asked. “Otherwise, why would you be going to a place where you might be attacked?”

“Good point, champ.”

“I’m not answering any of those questions.”

Bruce pondered for a second. “Have you tried the gray Kiton wool suit? It might null a bit of the neon green.”

“Ooh. Good idea, love.”

“Let’s see if you’re correct, Master Bruce.”

“I’m texting Dick to see if he knows anything.”

“Jesus Christ.”

“Father, have you seen Alfred Jr?” Damian’s voice rang from the corridor.

“Not really, Dami.”

“He is probably in that warm spot in the library where the sun hits just right,” Selina said and stretched as if she could feel the warmth from here.

“Thank you, miss Kyle,” Damian poked his head inside. “What are you doing here?”

“You’re welcome, Damian.”

“I live here.”

“Do you?” Bruce asked.

“Do you?” Damian asked, fully walking into the room.

You see? This is why I can’t tell them anything about this ball. Or else they will want to come with, they are nosy like that, I’d have to explain to every cute person I meet why I brought my entire family with me when the invitation didn’t even have ‘plus one’ on it.

Jesus, maybe Selina was right.

“Master Jason is getting fitted for a new suit, Master Damian,” Alfred said and held the gray wool suit.

“Yeah, that doesn’t do it either,” Selina said.

“What is wrong with the suit?”

“The theme is Black, White and Neon Green.” Everyone grimaced at that. They really needed to stop repeating the same thing over and over.

“What is the occasion?”

“Kit Kat won’t tell us.”

“Nope.”

“I’ve talked to Dick!” Tim announced. “He has no idea who could be, but his best guest is someone Jason met with the Outlaws! So I’m going to text Cass, so she can text Artemis and see if she was invited to anything.”

Damian sat on the opposite arm of the sofa and pondered.

“How much have you narrowed it down?”

“Someone we don’t know, someone dangerous, possibly on a mission, not a winter party,” Bruce said.

“Birthday?”

“No gift.”

“Maybe it’s someone I don’t know enough to buy a gift to,” I said, just to throw them off.

The three of them narrowed their eyes at me.

“Yup, talked to Artemis. She doesn’t know anything,” Tim said. “Also Dick is calling.”

He put it on speaker so everyone could suffer together.

“Hey, guys!”

“Hey, chum.”

“Hello.”

“Hey, birdie.”

“Sup?”

“Jesus Christ,” I rubbed my temples. I could feel a migraine coming up.

“Jason! The man, the myth, the legend! Will you tell your big bro where exactly you’re going? I promise to keep it a secret.”

“Not even on your deathbed.”

Alfred brought out another suit. It was also gray and it still did not match neon green.

“C’mon, Little Wing! Don’t be like that! It can be that bad for us to know.”

“It’s out of principle.”

“That reminds me,” Tim said. “Dick, go screw yourself.”

Alfred made a face at that, but didn’t comment anything.

“Wait, why? What did I do?”

“Why did you tell Jason to ‘act like a big brother’? He touched all of my stuff!”

“I’m sure he didn’t touch all of it.”

“Oh, I didn’t look under the bed, but besides that? It will be very funny when you start finding the glitter.”

“What?!”

“Ah, is that why Jon found a lot of superboy merch I did not buy in my closet?” Damian asked. “Well, I must say that is not a good prank. I’m not embarrassed to say I’m my best friend’s biggest fan. Though, he did cry.”

“You say that now, because you haven’t found the bees.”

“What bees?”

I simply smiled. This wouldn’t work on most of my siblings, but Damian was small enough to be fooled and once he believed it, the others would follow.

“I swear to God, Jason. If I find glitter on my clothes I’m putting a skunk inside your house,” Tim said.

There was also no glitter, but now he would check everything first. Forever.

“Why would you do that to a poor innocent animal?” I said, to be contrary.

“Yeah, Tim. Leave the animals alone! It’s not their fault Little Wing started a prank war.”

“Yes, Drake. I’m disappointed you’d even think about this.”

Alfred brought out a deep blue suit. Selina sighed and slumped down the sofa and Bruce shook his head.

“Hey, Dick,” I asked. “Do you have any suits that might fit me and that will look good with neon green?”

“Why do you ask? Don’t tell me Poison Ivy is your plus one.”

“Alright, I won’t.”

“Poison Ivy is light green, not neon,” Tim said.

“And Ivy is too old for you,” Bruce said, pointedly. I rolled my eyes.

“I don’t think I’d have anything either way.”

There was a moment of silence while everyone considered, perhaps the color neon green or perhaps Poison Ivy.

“I figured it out!” Damian shouted suddenly. Selina flinched from the noise, and he apologized quickly. “Sorry. But I have figured it out.”

“What?” Everyone asked. I wasn’t particularly worried, it’s very hard for the little brat to have known about a King I wasn’t even aware of. Though, maybe Ra’s did know it before me.

“Regular-fit Dark Grey Virgin Wool Serge from Hugo Boss,” Damian said profoundly.

“What?” Tim asked.

“The suit that will go with neon green.”

Alfred, Selina and Bruce thought it out. “Yes, I believe that might work, Master Damian.”

“Good job, son,” Bruce said, making my insides twist painfully.

Selina simply raised her hand over Tim’s head so Damian could high five her.

“That still doesn’t answer where he is going!”

“Who would do a Neon Green party? Besides the Riddler, his birthday isn’t until July.”

“How do you even– No, actually, I don’t want to know. Thanks for the help, Demon Brat.”

“You’re welcome. Now tell us where you’re going.”

Fair enough. “To a birthday party,”

“Goddammit! It was the first thing I crossed off!”

“Of whom?”

“None of your business, old man.”

“C’mon, tell us Little Wing.”

“What are we trying to find out?” Duke asked, walking into the room. “And why is everyone here?”

“Jason is going to a birthday party and he won’t tell us who's is jt,” Tim said.

“Oh?”

“And I’m getting a suit fitted.”

“Oh.”

“Don’t worry, though. I’ll tell you whose birthday it is later.”

“Hey!”

“Wait, why?”

“Yes, why him?”

“Oh, Duke is my favorite.”

Duke smiled innocently at all the people in the room and did a little twirl.

“That’s not fair!”

“Hey, this is your fault. You told me to be an older sibling.”

“Older siblings don’t pick favorites!”

“Of course they do. Damian is your favorite, I’m Cass’ favorite, Duke is my favorite, and Tim is no one’s favorite.”

“Screw you!”

“Don’t worry. When Bruce adopts another one you can be their favorite.”

“I’m not adopting anyone.”

Everyone in the room raised an eyebrow at that — yet another thing they got from Alfred — and Selina patted his hand. “Whatever you say, love.”

Alfred fitted the suit perfectly, to the point where that one guy on twitter that talks about male clothing would applaud. And he did find a neon green handkerchief, though he would only buy it if I promised to burn it afterwards, which I swiftly agreed to. I considered bringing a present, but something I learned from the filthy rich is that it’s always better to look like an asshole rather than a fool.

And so the suit saga ends and the ball saga begins.

One would think that an interdimensional being called the Ghost King would think of better ways to direct his guests towards his party than a set of coordinates and another number, which I quickly realized to be the hour in military time. Of course, one would be wrong. So me, my bike, my beautiful suit and my weapons directed ourselves to the middle of bumfuck nowhere, literally in the middle of Nevada's desert.

God, I am going to arrive at this party covered in sand.

[valentine-cafe]

˖⁺. ﹙ mercenary boyfriend  x gn afab reader. ﹚ .𖹭 ݁

. . . what a surprise !! 🍒 :  mercenary ˖ grim reaper character﹙ verse 9948e yìzé. ﹚

your piercing healing period is up - and now your boyfriend is tired of waiting

Two weeks. Two. Weeks. Yìze has had to wait for your clitoral piercing to heal up.

You were on the same page as him, the waiting was tiring. The excitement brewed as every day passed — one week seemed so fast, then the next. . . the next was so slow.

By the end of it, after cleaning the piercing and yourself thoroughly. You decided to go visit him in his aparment at the society of shades. When you knew his shift at the syndicate had finished up.

It had been a rough day for him.

Paperwork gathers into paper-empires back in his office, while sector 6 and 8 seem to be facing difficulties with unwelcome interferances around their broadcasting systems. And they have yet to figure out who is causing such inconvenience.

Yet, despite the fruitless work day. He had you in store, a little surprise visit not even he had anticipated. He had forgotten all about the week the second his face met the cushions of his grey couch, in his two room apartment.

What does he need a big apartment for? To clean so much would be taxing!

In the deep state of exhaust that he bathes in, your finger tips gliding across the soft, dark grey wallpaper does not register in his ears. Which gives you the oppertunity to sneak up on him. A smile of mischief covering your expression.

“Soft feet walk across the carpet covered floor.” He grunts.

Damn it all, of course he still heard you.

“Oh come on!” You laugh, hurrying over to him unlike before. “Coulda ignored it and pretend I wasn’t there.”n

A Soft, dark and light brown, fluffy head of hair lifts from the couch, while your boyfriend’s heavy body turns to lay on the side.

“If I ignored, I could maybe have died.” He huffs, poker-faced as usual. You only smile affectionately, giving him that one gaze that softens up his heart so much it felt like it would melt into a puddle. Turn into an ocean of love for you.

“Mr. sourpuss,” you snicker. Only for the black and sleek furniture around the livingroom to swallow the yelp you let out as he swipes his hand across your waist and drags you down on top of him. Knee settled between your legs.

The newfound friction sets off the sparks of anticipation that have been boiling in your tummy for the past few hours.

Below you, the reaper flashes you a cocky smirk. Head tilted to the side, with his hair sprawled across the pillow. “Look at you.”

“Look at me,” you whisper, giving his nose a little flick to draw the deep laugh that had been hiding away from you.

“Bastard— mgh!! N—gnh Yìzé!” Words that were expected to sing out of your mouth were cut off when his knee attatcked your poor clit through your pants, grinding up into it slowly. You couldn’t stop your head from falling onto his chest, while you let out your pretty little noises.

His lips move to your ear to press a little kiss, before sharp teeth bite onto it to get another slew of noises out of you.

“I’m the bastard now, baobei?” Each of the delightfully nauseating words struck shivers down your spine. Mouth opening at the sensation of his cold hand slipping beneath the fabrics that restricted his touch from you otherwise.

How can you hold back your noises when it all feels so good? Whimper after moan, and gasp after heavy breath — each time his knee ground into your wetting pussy, you felt his fingers nearing your pierced clit.

His breath hitched audibly as well, the second he felt the feel of the metal orbs, a groan left him. Almost as if he had forgotten all about them — but he hadn’t. This had been something he looked forward to the entirety of the two weeks that seemed to hurry and slow in circles.

Slow circles was certainly something you felt beneath the belt. Yìzé’s skillful fingers working you up by rubbing around your clit in circular motions. Getting a good feel for how the piercing feels to twirl. He cannot hold himself back form giving it a gentle tug.

It is almost as if the air in your lungs get knocked out at the new feeling. Your breath stutters. And your hands find purchase in his shirt. Gripping at the silken fabric.

“Fuck!” You gasp out, whining as his index and middle dip inside of the aching cunt that has been waiting for his touch for a week. Plummeting into the warmth with his cold digits, while his thumb tends to your clit.

“Feel good?” He rasps in question, even if he can see it. He needs to be sure. A part of him wants to tear you apart and fix you up again, the other wants to be careful and gentle. It’s not your first time, no, no it isn’t even close to the first time.

It is, however, your first time with a clitoral hood piercing. And he wants to make sure it feels amazing before he goes rough and figures out how to do new and old methods with the piercings.

The way you clench around his fingers makes his hips roll upwards into yours. He doesn’t even notice it. All he sees is how good you’re feeling and it turns him on. The way your walls flutter whenever his long digits thrust upwards into your needy cunt.

“Let me have a taste.” He grunts into your ear, exhaling breathlessly when he draws the fingers out of you and earns the dissappointed whine from you. All he does is whisper a few: I know’s over and over as you undress.

He’s quick to draw you on top of him and swirl his tongue around your clit. Drowning away in your thighs— It feels too fucking good to be true.

Delighting in your moans, his eyes shut naturally. While the cold, wet muscle does it’s work around your clit. Flicking it back and forth, knotting around it. You came the second his teeth pulled gently at it and the piercing. Chest stuttering with your breath.

“F—Fuck, hold on.”

“Should I stop?” He asks, pressing a kiss to your pelivic bone, maroon eyes reassuring as they meet yours.

“Yeah— Oh, god. Hahh-Hahah-ha” You’ve never felt so delirious. The second the orgasm came over you. Gods, it was bliss.

“Thank you.” You chuckle, looking down at him, as he wipes his mouth and licks and of the spilt juices off of his hand.

“Mh, always, we’re gonna try this out a few more times soon yeah?” He responds with a chuckle. Hands moving up to squeeze at your hip and gently rub to soothe you.

“Let’s get you cleaned up pretty.”