#LOOK AT HIM!! OH MY GOD PLEASE LOOK AT THIS MAN!!

[kateschi]

chef's kiss is not enough

synopsis: a simple night out for good food changes when you meet the chef behind a dish that leaves you speechless.

pairing: chef!bakugou katsuki x f!reader

the restaurant is cozy, the kind of place that doesn’t draw much attention from the outside but feels like a hidden treasure once you step inside.

soft lighting casts a warm glow over the wooden tables, and the low murmur of conversation mixes with the occasional clinking of plates.

you’re here with friends, seated at a corner table, menus spread out in front of you.

it’s the kind of night where you’re just looking forward to good food and laughter.

the waiter approaches, balancing several plates on his tray, and sets a bowl down in front of you. you thank him absentmindedly, but the moment your eyes land on your dish, you can’t help but pause.

it’s beautiful in its simplicity—steaming ramen served in a deep bowl, the broth shimmering under the restaurant’s soft light.

thin slices of pork rest delicately on the surface, alongside a soft-boiled egg, its yolk a vibrant golden color. green onions and a sheet of nori top it off, each detail deliberate and precise.

when you take the first bite, your eyes widen. the broth is rich and savory, the kind of flavor that seems to envelop your entire mouth.

the noodles are perfectly cooked, springy but not too firm, soaking up just enough of the broth.

each topping complements the next—the pork is tender, the egg creamy, the green onions adding a fresh, sharp contrast.

it’s the kind of dish that doesn’t just taste good; it feels like someone put their heart into it.

“oh my god,” you mutter, setting your chopsticks down for a moment. “this is incredible.”

your friends laugh at your reaction, one of them nudging you with their elbow. “you always get like this when the food’s good.”

“no, but this—this is different,” you insist, leaning closer to the bowl as if it holds some sort of secret. “this isn’t just good; this is like…life-changing.”

the comment earns a round of laughter, but you’re already distracted, glancing around the room for the waiter.

when you catch his eye, you raise a hand. “excuse me, who’s the chef here?”

the waiter looks surprised by the question. “our head chef is bakugou katsuki. would you like me to—”

“yes, please,” you interrupt, a little too quickly. realizing how eager you sound, you backtrack. “I mean, if he’s not too busy.”

the waiter nods and disappears toward the kitchen, leaving your friends to give you a variety of amused and curious looks.

“what?” you say defensively. “it’s not every day you eat something this good.”

a few minutes later, the kitchen door swings open, and the man who walks out is…not what you expected.

you were picturing someone older, maybe with a few gray hairs and a soft smile.

instead, this man—bakugou katsuki, apparently—is tall and broad-shouldered, his chef’s coat fitting snugly over a strong frame.

his spiky blond hair looks slightly damp, like he’s been working hard, and his expression is one of mild irritation.

he looks more like a professional athlete than a chef.

“what?” he says, his voice low and rough, as he strides up to your table. his crimson eyes sweep over the group before landing on you.

and for a moment, bakugou freezes. he didn’t know what to expect when the waiter said someone wanted to meet him—probably some pompous critic or a customer with a laundry list of complaints.

but you’re not what he expected. at all. there’s something about the way you’re looking at him, your eyes wide with a mix of nervousness and awe, that throws him completely off balance.

you’re…really pretty. too pretty, actually.

it’s annoying, how much it catches him off guard. his chest tightens, and he suddenly feels hyperaware of himself—his hands, his posture, the faint dampness of his forehead from the heat of the kitchen.

damn it.

“I, uh,” you start, faltering under his intense gaze. you weren’t expecting him to be so—well, intimidating. “I just wanted to say that the food is amazing. like, really amazing.”

for a moment, he just stares at you, his jaw tightening slightly. then he rubs the back of his neck, glancing away as if trying to compose himself. “thanks,” he mutters, his tone less gruff than before.

the way he looks away almost makes you smile.

he doesn’t seem like the type to take compliments well, and you can’t help but find it endearing. but at the same time, his presence is overwhelming, and you feel heat creeping up your neck.

“well,” he says abruptly, his eyes snapping back to yours. “if that’s it, I’ve got stuff to do.”

“right, of course,” you say quickly, nodding. “thank you again.”

he nods once, almost curtly, before turning and heading back toward the kitchen. you watch him go, your mind racing with thoughts you can’t quite organize.

the rest of the evening goes by in a blur.

you and your friends continue to chat and laugh, but your thoughts keep drifting back to bakugou. his sharp eyes, the way he looked almost flustered when you complimented him.

it’s distracting, and you can’t quite shake it.

as you’re leaving, stepping out into the cool night air, a voice calls out behind you.

“hey.”

you turn to see him standing in the doorway, still in his chef’s coat. he looks like he’s debating whether this is a good idea or not, his expression tight with something between determination and reluctance.

in his hand is a paper bag with the restaurant’s logo. “here,” he says, holding it out to you.

you blink, confused. “I didn’t order takeout.”

“it’s on me,” he says, shoving the bag toward you. his crimson eyes flick to the side, avoiding your gaze.

“oh, but—”

“just take it,” he interrupts, his voice firm but not unkind.

you hesitate for a moment before taking the bag. your fingers brush against his, and the brief contact sends a strange warmth through your chest. “thank you,” you murmur.

he nods, and for a moment, it looks like he might say something else. but then he just steps back inside, the door closing behind him.

when you get home, you open the bag to find a perfectly packaged serving of the ramen you raved about earlier. sitting on top is a small note, written in slightly messy handwriting:

xxx-xxx-xxxx the name’s katsuki. text me.

a smile creeps onto your face, and you find yourself thinking that maybe, just maybe, you will.

kofi — navigation — masterlist

do not copy, translate, or plagarize

[poguehearted77]

Imagine y’all just had the fight of your lives (maybe over his dumb gun or something equally Rafe), but later when you’re lying on opposite sides of the bed, he reaches out and pulls you close and says somthing cute or annoying idk And then, oh my GOD—it’s slow, emotional, and HOT because making up with Rafe would be next-level intense. please i NEEED😫😩

OH MY GOD YES. SOME SWEET RAFE AND EVEN SWEETER MAKE UP SEX AFTER A HUGE FIGHT. NEED IT.

#2 from my drabble game

smut: penetrative sex, some praise, I love you's, unprotected sex

Rafe is in deep shit.

You know that, he knows that-- hell, even your pet beagle, Poppy knew it. For once, she bolted away the moment the front door opened, and your oh-so-handsome, conniving and deceitful boyfriend walked in instead of running towards him.

Rafe is a dead man walking. How ironic would it be if he were to die at your hands with the very same gun he'd promised you he'd gotten rid of.

His body goes rigid when he sees the weapon in your palm. A nervous gulp falls down his throat as he does his best to stand tall. "Where did you get that?" That's what he asks you, he should've never opened his mouth.

You scoff immediately, carelessly angling it around as your upset mannerisms control your arms. "Get it? You mean where did I find it." He doesn't respond which is a wise choice.

"Mr. Montogommery called me earlier, he was looking for you--said you weren't answering your phone. He asked me to leave you a message," You're pacing now, and it made Rafe nervous. You're a little crazy, but so was he. It's why you went so well together.

"Like the good girlfriend I am, I opened your office drawer for a sticky note to leave on your desk, but what did I find? The same gun you told me would never be back in the house, Rafe are you serious?!" Your arms are flailing and he's half-certain he'll catch a stray by the end of the conversation.

He steps towards you with his hands up cautiously, "Baby, give me the gun, and we can talk about this." You snap, "No! Why should I? You don't trust me with it? Why because it's dangerous? Because it could kill you! You're right, Rafe. Why didn't I think of that sooner--oh wait, I did! And you fucking lied to me, Rafe."

Your voice is enraged and bouncing off the ivory-panelled walls of the house but it dies down to a shaky one as tears threaten to spill over the brims of your eyes. "Y/n-" He holds his hand out for you, but you give him the gun instead.

You execute a sharp pivot on the tips of your toes, ready to walk away from him but he finally speaks up and you stop--not turning around, standing still, anticipating. "I'm not getting rid of the gun." It's all he says.

Had you been in the mood, you would've turned around, lounged at him and strangled him, but no, you just kept walking.

Your bedroom is freezing that night, despite it being the middle of summer, and it only gets colder everytime you glance towards Rafe as he gets ready for the bed you begrudgingly shared.

Your expression remains sour, even in your sleep, no matter how far away from your boyfriend you are. There's enough room to fit a full-grown adult between you. The isolation was holding the production of your melatonin hostage, forcing you both to lay awake, backs facing each other but hearts reaching out.

Rafe flips onto his side, staring longingly at the back of your frame. He missed you and you were right in front of him. "Baby," His voice is soft, and the pet name lands on you gently, a testament that your anger has subsided a bit.

You turn over, choosing to lie on your back and face the ceiling. You deem that he's undeserving to see your face at the moment. "I've got another gun in my nightstand." You blamed your miscomprehension on the late hours of the night because surely he did not just say what you think he said.

Rafe can see the way your chest began to rise and fall at a much more shallow pace, he had about five seconds to start explaining before you turned on him. "I told you about my past. I've done some bad things. 'Burying the hatchet' doesn't exist for everyone, and I want to be prepared for anything. When I look at a gun now, it's not a weapon anymore, it's a tool. It's protection."

Your breathing slowed, a little. He takes it as a good sign. "I can't lose you. If something happened to you when I could've prevented it, I'd never forgive myself, and I know you know that." He's right. You did know that. He dedicated his life to you, making sure that you knew that. "I shouldn't have lied about getting rid of it, and I'm sorry."

Your breathing returns to its normal pace. You lay on your side, now facing him. "Fine." Rafe scoots closer to you, a small grin working its way on his lips. "Fine?" You nod, "Yeah, fine. I forgive you, this time, but don't you ever pull some shit like this again or so help me god I will-" He quiets you with a sweet kiss.

Well, it started sweet at least.

Now you're both watching him slide in. Your warm cunt wrapped around his length delightfully. "You're fuckin' perfect, too good f'me." He groans into your ear. His muscular arms cage you in, and you've decided you'd be more than happy to die between them.

Your soft moans bounced off his brawny chest and right back in your face, "Feels so good, Rafe-" Yougaspedp as he picked up the pace, hips rolling into yours for a much deeper angle. Your back arches off the bed slightly as sweat rolls down your back and sticks to the sheets.

It wasn't long before you were both chasing your highs. Rafe always sounded so fucking hot when he was close, his deep groans pitching up to breathless whines when you purposefully clenched around him, threatening him to fill you up unrestrained. Once you came, he pulled out and finished on your heaving stomach, catching your breath.

He doesn't get off of you just yet. He balances himself on one forearm as the other hand comes up to gently move the strands of hair from your face, "I love you," he means it, his eyes say it when his mouth does. "I love you".

[shapelytimber]

Wanted to paint some of my favorite characters, nothing more nothing less

[COMMISSIONS]

Way too much yapping like an embarrassing amount, the individual portraits and the template I used below vvv

I shouldn't be allowed to talk about my favorite characters- especially to people who (presumably) don't know them xjfkdk apart from the very popular ones ofc

ILLYA KURYAKIN (The man from U.N.C.L.E)

gay ass little Russian spy I love him he is so *dramatic* and a huge nerd and a Beatles fan and into fashion design- perfect pocket size blorbo ;w; also seeing a Russian character being given a positive leading role in an American tvshow from the 60s ?? Yes he lives in New York and works for UNCLE America.... But he is still a communist ?? Incredible ! Also I really like the fact he isn't given the cliché personality traits often given to Russian characters i e anger issues drinks a lot violent ect (looking at you shitty(imo) modern remake... What did you do to my little guy ;;). In a close contest with Spock for the "gayest man from tvshow" of the 60s..... And in my heart he is winning djdkd for me the gay subtext of muncle hits so much more because it's not a scifi show- it's closer to home, Napoleon and Illya were *like that* in the present day of the 60s, they were both human, and no alien fuckery made them go to the village more than once or play house in the suburbs or get attached ass up to get pegged on a regular basis... Truly a show that feels written by an old queen and a guy with the biggest fem dom fetish jkvjjkb (don't get me wrong tho I adore star trek tos and spirk too <3)

KUROO HAZAMA and PINOKO (Black Jack)

sometimes I rewatch some of the oavs from the 90s when I'm sad :) I had a huge phase a couple years back when I read nearly all the manga (should really finish it... Or reread the whole thing frankly), watched *all* the shows (bar young black jack, hated that shit) and idk I just love this venal bitch so much- him and his daughter and his conflicted feelings for his tboy ex that he still loves kfkfkf btw I'm dying for a modern take on this like please please please I'd love to see Kei Kisaragi's story rewritten a bit (trans character in the 70s sure was progressive but oh boy-), because him and black jack's relationship makes me so *weak*.... And maybe see him a bit more than in one story- anyway ! When it comes to his daughter Pinoko, it's very hit or miss- when the writers lean on the cute father adoptive daughter relationship it's great, when they lean more on the whole "she has a crush on him" (very much like a child in most case, and he *never* reciprocate thank god) and bring up the fact she is technically 18 a lot (she was an evil tumor trapped in her sister before he created a body for her- black jack shit dw), and she gets jealous of other women.... Well it's terrible and I'm uncomfy :(

EVA KANT (Diabolik)

Look.... You just can't show me danger diabolik 1968 and not expect me to become insane djdkdkdk she is so cool ;; !!! Her and her devious eel of a man (here as a panther, because even tho I haven't read the comic yet, I'm taking an educated guess that all the panther imagery is here to represent him, the lethal twunk always in the all black gimp suit... And if it's not then fuck my entire life ig fjfkkd), the cuntiest het couple you've ever seen, such freaks I love them ! Partners in crime that will blow up the tax offices of the whole country if you try to put a bounty on them <3 they are in the guilty faves category only because I'm this invested in these characters after 1 (one) movie fkfkf watched the first two remakes and was hmmm let's say underwhelmed, could have been worse but going after the 60s one ie peak cinema was hard... I went in fully invested in these heterosexuals and they still fucked up their romance and relationship ;; (don't spoil me the third one btw haven't seen it yet ! I know it's the yaoi one- which doesn't give me much hope for Eva tbh...) I'll soon start reading the comics tho ! Managed to find all twelve volumes of "Il grande Diabolik" in french for pretty cheap so I'm excited for that :D (might scan them and upload them online because omg I tried finding scans in *any* language and only found a dubious website that sold digital copies for 7€ a volume ??? What is this)

UTA (The Void / Тургор / Turgor / Tension)

Apathy girlyyyyy she just like me for real for real nfkfk what absolutely charmed me about her is yes her design, but more importantly her chamber's design (if you've never played the void, a sister's chamber is a space that represent her. You get a sense of who she is by exploring her chamber before finding her and talking to her soul it's great). The lonely island out at sea, her laying down on a suspended steel boat in a grotto, looking passively at the moon by a crack on the ceiling.... And the moon is looking back. Incredible ! I love this game so much

KIM KITSURAGI (Disco Elysium)

Do I really have to explain this one ? When I played the game with quiji I remember I kept saying "when Kim talks, we *listen*" djkdk we did get a good grade in Kim Kitsuragi and got him to dance in the church <3 this fucking centrist cop wormed it's way into my heart and many others because of course he did. The only Kim K in my eyes. Also funny anecdote : before I played Disco Elysium, I had one concept art masterclass where a kinda famous concept artist came to give advice, make us really stressed then give us a shitty grade.... And when I tell you this man looked so much like Kim ??? Same haircut, glasses, face with a scar *exactly* where Kim's portrait has a stark shadow on his cheek and he was dressed in an orange top- truly uncanny. Anyway, Kim is so fucking cool how does he do it

DARK VADOR (La guerre des étoiles)

*sight* not surprising if you know me... and to be clear when I say Vader I don't mean Anakin Skywalker, post barbecue only zouz here. I refuse to yap about this man djdkdk I already do that way to much in ao3 comment sections

And here is the template I used ! Don't know who made it tho sorry...

PS : all these where made in 2-3 hours each :D wanted to challenge myself by painting quickly, and I mostly (looking at the Eva Kant one that gave me trouble) succeeded !

[world-of-aus]

Hot Shot

Pairing: NHL!Photographer!Reader x Hockey Player!Bucky

Warnings: Bucky being a heartthrob.

A/N: I've been reading one to many hockey romances and well here we are scratching an itch. I know I would like to eventually come out with a bigger story for these two but for now this is just the start a taste if you will. I'd like to leave this open to suggestion of what y'all would like to see or know about these two if anything.. Hope you enjoy the first taste.

You barely had a chance to unlock your screen to reply to her message before her caller ID

was taking up your screen, a recent photo of her and Steve that she had made as her contact picture pulling a smile onto your lips.

“Tasha.” you answer.

“Y/n, listen I know you were just planning on watching the game from the comfort of your living room but I mean talk about an upgrade! From a television screen to being at the actual game on the floor behind the safety of the glass getting some wicked shots, and no one captures action shots like you do - I promise I wouldn’t have asked otherwise.” she tacks on her voice pleading.

You chuckle, you know had the circumstances been different she’d be one of the first ones at the arena, she hadn’t missed one of Steve’s games yet, not since you had been signed on. “Natasha relax, you know you don’t have to pull out the stops on me, I'll go - do you want me to send you the photos?”

The redhead turned blonde breathes a heavy sigh of relief, “oh god thank you! and if you don’t mind, but take your time, I’m sure a certain bruin's player is going to be demanding your attention after the game especially if they bag a win.” she teases seemingly mentioning the man in your DM’s.

Your cheeks warm, the unread notification from the player she speaks of appearing in your mind, “please Tasha,” you deflect, “it’s the game of the season he’ll have plenty of attention with all the puck bunnies sporting his name on their jersey throwing themselves at him for an inkling of his attention.” you murmur picking at an invisible speck of lint on your sweater as you stand from the couch, intent on getting your things packed to head out.

“And yet he only seems to want yours,” she sings, “you should totally wear the jersey I got you for your birthday.”

You roll your eyes smile pulling at your lips, “is your flight really delayed, do I have to text Steve?”

Your friend laughs, “unfortunately it is and hey thank you again for this, I owe you, love you, oh and send me a picture of Steve, one of you and Bucky too!”

You shake your head as your friend rushes out her farewell your screen now gone black as you look down at it “looks like pjs are out of the question for tonight” you murmur continuing on through your apartment to grab your things Bucky’s text still sitting in your messages unanswered.

He’d have his answer soon enough.

🏒🖤

The cool of the arena’s backstage floor seeps through your jeans, your tripod sitting off to the side, your camera nestled in your hands as you wait for the first few players of the bruins to make their arrival.

Your camera goes up; the first of the team to come through the backdoors is the Bruins coach Fury, he spots you smile on his face his hand coming up in a greeting as you get your first arrival shot of the day. Slowly players begin to trickle in, most of them spot you posing for you as they stride by, others walk by with a simple wave their heads already in the game.

Speaking of head in the game center Steve Rogers makes his way in, his suit pressed, duffle thrown over his shoulder as he owns the floor. “Looking good Rogers, say you wouldn’t have Natasha tucked away in that duffle by chance?” you tease grinning behind your camera. You laugh at the grin that breaks his lips, a shake of his head as he directs his gaze at you, “can assure you Natasha wouldn’t be packed in my bag, she’d be hanging on my arm.” You coo at the bearded blonde, “you think you can say that again I didn’t have my phone out.”

The two of you laugh as you capture a few more shots, “Come on Rogers leave some love for the rest of us, you already have your face glued on billboards!”

Left defenseman Sam Wilson is striding in next million dollar smile painted on his lips like the suit he wears on his skin. “But no one has their face printed on as many shirts like you do Wilson, now give me something new to look out for will ya, want to make sure these etsy sellers get only the best!” Wilson eats your words up, feeding the fans through your film. He comes closer kneeling to your level to pull you in for a hug, “it’s good to see you hot shot, thought you weren’t coming out tonight with how Barnes was moping.”

Your heart beats like a wild drum in your chest, “Tasha’s flight got delayed, cashed in her IOU, so here I am and surely your version of Barnes moping is different from mine.”

“Oh man you should of seen him, had to smack the phone out of his hands with how often he was checking it, you’re gonna join us tonight after the win right?”

“You Bruins are so sure about that win,” you laugh.

“That’s because it’s in the bag, hot shot.” It takes everything in you not to snap your eyes to the broad shoulder right defenseman sauntering into the building. “Here comes your boy.” Sam chuckles patting your shoulder as you find said man with your camera lens. You wanted to eat him up like he was eating at your film.

Like Sam Bucky strolls till he’s standing above you, grin pulling at his pink lips as he offers you his hand. You set your camera down gently against your chest before taking his offer, warmth seeping though you at your hand wrapped in his. “Thought you weren’t gonna show.” He murmurs watching you.

“Well as enticing as staying in my pjs on my couch with a glass of wine watching the game tonight sounded IOUs are a serious thing to cash in.” you say struggling to keep his gaze, you were certain you’d turn into a puddle of goo soon.

“More enticing then upgrading your lock screen?”

You let out a groan reaching out to smack his chest, but his hand captures yours instead keeping it there a teasing smile playing at his lips. “You’re never going to let that go are you?” you question recalling the night at the bar that he discovered himself as your lock screen. To be fair it was one of your favorite shots you had captured at the beginning of the seasons. It didn’t hurt that he was your favorite Bruin player to follow on and off the ice.

“Never, though I’m hoping by the end of the night ill see a photo of me after the win.” He chuckles thumb running over your hand.

“You’d have to secure a win first Barnes.”

Your breath catches in your chest as he closes the distance between the two of you, “I’ve already won though.”

Your reply is caught on your tongue, Fury voice breaking through the haze, “Barnes you’ll have time to catch up with y/n later get your ass in the lockers now!”

Bucky let’s your hand falling, chuckle brewing in his chest as he steps back, “hope you’re not watching Wilson or Rogers to closely tonight hotshot because this wins for you, and I’m going to be the one bringing it home.”

You watch him walk away, his gaze lingering on you till he disappears through the locker room.

And God how you hoped he would.

[rebelssvy]

you x your fave MHA man

LABELS: fucking sex. fucking you in heat. pov you get hit with a quirk that makes you all hot and bothered.

-chat i ate this up!

here you were, getting undressed by your childhood crush in the comfort of an empty changing room at your agency. you had been shot with a random quirk during a raid. you passed out during all of it.

the last thing you remembered he had swept you up into his arms and got you here.

you didn’t know what was happening to you.

your back arched off the bench, you refused to let go of him. you felt how soaked you were through your suit.

you grabbed every part of him.

“fuck i’m soso so sorryyyy-! i don’t know what’s happening to me.” you moaned out to him. he stood above you, slicking down your hair that had poked up during the fight.

“it’s ok. are you hurt? how do you feel?” he said through concerned eyes. staring down at you.

“i feel like i need your cock.” you said with full confidence before slapping both your hands over your mouth.

he looked down at your with desire and an open mouth. he didn’t say anything before shaking his passion. he reminded himself, it’s just the quirk after effects making you say this.

“i’m so so sooo sorry… i shouldn’t have said that.. but im just being honest i don’t know what to do” you moaned out again. your hands slowly making their way to your own body. grabbing at the fabric.

you felt hot. like you needed it all gone. you needed it off of you. asap.

“can u pleaseee help me.. oh my god.. fuck let me suck you off pleaseeee” you said up to him with puppy eyes.

it was truly a sight to see. and well, this was his dream. you begging to suck him off, your skin glowing with desire.

“if you think it’s gonna make you feel better…. i mean.. i guess you can-“ before he finished his sentence you were pulling his pants down. you wasted no time before licking his length with your tongue.

opening your mouth as much as you could you stuck his cock down your throat as much as you could.

“oh my god.. fuckkk y/n” he grabbed onto your hair bobbing your head back and forth.

you sucked as much as your could. you wanted all of him.

he pulled out. grabbing your jaw he tilted his head down to stare at you. you looked up at him with your mouth still wide open. you stuck your tongue out for him.

“let me fuck you.” he said before pulling you up to take off your suit.

“yes yes yes yes please fuck me that’s all i want!” you moaned out grabbing at the fabric he still had on his body.

he stopped all action, grabbing your face and pulling you in for a heated kiss.

pulling apart, “you getting hit with that quirk was the best thing that’s ever happened.. fuck” he said before making his way to suck on your neck.

you moaned at the contact, bringing your hands down to grab at his freed cock. squeezing the top of this length. pre-cum oozing out of it. he gasped at the touch.

“i’ve dreamed of this far longer then just today…” you said while your suit dropped off your body. you were now fully unclothed.

he stared at you with passion in his eyes. you broke the silence again.

“i dreamed about sucking you off under your desk in highschool.” you admitted.

before you knew it he picked you up. it was all happening to quickly. all you needed was relief.

twisting your body into a full nelson. your body pressed against his. he had both your legs, so you were spread full open.

you moaned out again.

“please please please put it in let me feel your cock” you mumbled out. flushed.

“whatever you say doll…” he said grabbing his cock, pressing it against your entrance.

it was filthy. him having you all wrapped up like this. but you were begging for it.

his cock plunged in and out of you. balls slapping your skin with each movement.

“oh yeah? you fucking like that?” he groaned at you spreading you as wide as you could.

you moaned out to him as a response. you couldn’t comprehend anything.

he hit all your deepest angles. you were on full display.

this was so naughty. and too think a quirk caused this? you would consider yourself blessed.

“fuck your so tight for me aren’t cha’?” he said to you in a condescending manner. making you clench around his length.

“mmm… i-i’m closeee”you warned him.

“cmon then…” he groaned softly, “cum around my cock.”

he demanded it. and so you did.

cumming around him, you moaned out ‘thanks you’’s and how your ‘all his’. your body spasming through your orgasm, as he fucked you through your high.

finally he set you down on the bench, you all fucked out like this, he couldn’t stop himself.

jerking himself off, to your face.

of course, he had to finish on your face.

even fucked out as you were you opened your mouth wide and stuck your tongue out. catching all the cum you could.

“thank fuck for that quirk” he said before wiping his own cum off your cheek.

“mmm… thank fuck for you” you said with a smile.

……………………………………………………………………………..

- i was personally thinking of katsuki. but that’s just me. LOLLLL comment who you thought about!!!

[crushmeeren]

ᝰ ILLUMI WHO FUCKS YOU BEHIND HIS PARENTS BACK .ᐟ

master list link

༝ ᭝ ༝ just a little blurb, maybe I could circle back and expand in the future? this is kind of all over the place, but i love illumi and this my first hxh work! ༝ ᭝ ༝

The rhythmic tick of the clock on the wall steals your attention, the murmuring chatter of the other three people in the room muffling as you zone out. It’s mindless, the way your fingers trace over the dark mark sticking out against the conference table like a neon sign. The rich mahogany is smooth, not a splinter in sight.

Your chair creaks when you shift your weight, eyes rolling in annoyance when your foot tingles with pins and needles, the appendage forcing itself awake.

For how rich they are, you’d think the Zoldycks could afford comfortable seats at the very least.

A much larger hand covers your own, halting your repetitive tracing, and you shift your head to the left to be met with your father’s firm gaze, his mouth set in a line. You glance across the table to Silva’s serious expression, then to Illumi’s blank one.

You lock eyes with the younger Zoldyck and something hot jolts in your belly, a deep ache settling between your legs. You linger a bit too long before returning your focus to your Father, who removes his hand from yours. You clear your throat, the sound loud in the otherwise quiet room.

“Yes, father?”

He raises an eyebrow, somewhat amused but hiding it well. “Did you hear anything that was discussed?”

Heat crawls up the back of your neck and into your cheeks, but you manage to keep your features neutral. “No, I’m sorry Father.”

“Silva and I have agreed to allow you to work with Illumi on this mission. We feel it’s best to have you both there,” your Father explains, gesturing towards Illumi. You blink twice, spine straightening, and your pride refuses to let you peak at Illumi and gauge his reaction. You know it’s non existent.

You hesitate, then nod. “I understand Father,” you assure. You turn to Silva with your chin raised. “I’ll be an asset to this mission. I won’t hinder Illumi.”

The soft rustle of Illumi shifting, like he can’t sit still, does not go unnoticed by you.

Silva looks as pleased as he’s capable of and dips his head in acknowledgment. “See to it that you are. Illumi does not fail, and if this mission falls apart, you’ll be the one who is punished.”

“She will not fail,” your Father interrupts, tone sharp at the edges. “She is just as capable as Illumi.”

Your Father and Silva stare each other down for a few tense seconds before Silva concedes, nodding once.

“Very well.”

⇣ ༝ ⇣ ༝ ⇣

“Illumi, fuck,” you moan, tightening your fingers in his soft hair as your lids flutter. Your breath hitches when he sucks the sensitive skin of your inner knee between his lips, intent on leaving a dark hickey. “You know you’re gonna get in trouble if— oh god!” You squeak. Illumi’s teeth bite down harder in an effort to stop you from continuing your sentence. “If your Father finds out, Illumi.” You emphasize his name with a pointed yank to his hair.

Said man’s warm tongue suddenly sweeps up the crease between your pussy and thigh, causing your hips jerk in the direction of his mouth, eager for what comes next.

The dingy white walls and scratchy sheets of the motel bed do nothing to curb the warmth that’s running thick and honeyed in your veins.

Illumi settles fully on his belly, placing his thumbs on either side of your pussy and spreads you apart. He distracted for a split second by how slick he’s gotten you, running his thumb over your pussy before meeting your heavy lidded stare with a bored one. The only evidence of his arousal is the dark pink flush on his cheeks.

And his rock hard cock.

“Why are you concerned with that now?” He asks, tone somewhat annoyed. “You’re aware I’m not bothered by that.” Illumi’s tongue flicks your clit, determined to refocus on the drool worthy sight in front of him. “Don’t you want me to eat your pussy?”

You curse, drawing your knees up and let your thighs fall open as wide as they can. “You know that I do.”

“Then stop whining.”

Illumi’s skilled. He’s precise and to the point, especially when it involves getting you to cum on his tongue. Then he’s in your face, leaving a few inches to separate you as his hair surrounds you, shielding you both from the outside world. When it’s the two of you, the pressure to be perfect fades to background noise.

One hand plants itself by your head, the other gripping the base of his shaft to steady himself. The slick tip bumps your clit, a brief, bright pleasure sparking in your pelvis, and then he shifts down to press forward and slide home.

Your moan is simultaneous with Illumi’s. His jaw clenches tight, eyes pinching together before flashing back open.

“Move,” you command. The assassin, who’s never this compliant, drags his hips back halfway and pushes forward smoothly. The glide is so fucking slick, so fucking hot, and you loop your arms around his neck, tugging until his sweaty forehead lands on yours. The steady roll of his hips builds to a quick pace, the filthy smack of skin colliding filling the room.

Illumi won’t last long. Not after a mission like the one you’d had. It went well, but there was a tremendous amount of fighting, and the tense line of his shoulders shows how worked up he is. He starts to whine with every other breath, dark eyes intense and locked with yours.

Illumi grips one of your legs and shifts it until your knee hooks over his elbow, cock striking your g-spot with each pointed thrust. You cry out his name, pulling him as close as you can despite the awkward angle, and he starts to twitch inside you.

“You’re gorgeous,” he whispers in a rush, breath hitching as he catches your lips in a kiss, all the emotion he struggles to voice shining through. He sucks on your lower lip and it’s over, pussy fluttering and squeezing Illumi until he makes a choked off sound, surging forward until his balls are snug to your ass. He cums with a broken moan, and you swallow the noise like you’re dying of thirst.

There’s little fanfare after, just a quiet moment where you hug him tight, prompting him to sneak his hands underneath your back to return the gesture. The embrace is sticky and sweaty, overheated.

Illumi places his forehead on your collarbone, brushes his lips over the swell of your breast and pants as he catches his breath. The knowledge that even someone as cool and collected as Illumi needs a moment to gather himself when he’s with you steadies your thundering heart.

“I couldn’t be bothered to care what my Father’s opinion is. At least, not when it comes to you.”

“Well, that makes two of us.”

Illumi’s quiet laugh is the best thing you’ve heard all night.

[justkending]

Pink or Violet? (Part two of "It's just a papercut..." Drabble)

(All gifs are from Pinterest)

(Part two of "It's just a papercut..." Drabble)

Pairing: Grumpy Bucky x Avenger Reader (Enemies to lovers)

Word Count: 2600+

A/N: Well, wow-ie wow, wow... Y'all blew up the last little drabble connected to this one, so I had to grant myself some writing time today to come up with a follow-up drabble. This one is a lot more lighthearted and a good 5-8 months in the future (your choice, really). Thank you, guys, for all the love on the last one, and I hope this one is a nice extension of it ;)

________________

“Have you ever considered going brunette? Whoa!” I sense the knife before I see it and manage to expertly dodge it with a laugh. “Hey, my teammate said I’m not allowed to get stabbed anymore, big guy,” I note, turning in my spot, kicking the man in the nuts, and as he folds over in pain, I hold his head perfectly to knee him in the face, hearing a satisfying crunch, causing him to land with a thump by my side. “Rude to interrupt conversations, too, dude.” 

Currently, we were in the middle of a stakeout… Or what started as a stakeout and now is a full-on brawl. 

Nat and I were rudely interrupted in our conversation about disguises we wanted to try, when an explosion in the facility we were monitoring took over the west wing. 

“I’ve done a wig,” Nat answers as she jumps, doing one of her classic moves where she’s sat on the shoulders of her assaulter, choking him out with her thighs before flinging her body to where she’s standing again casually and the man is incapacitated passed out on the floor. “Not that I didn’t find it flattering, but it’s harder to dye back with such a dark color.” She shrugs as she moves on to her next victim. 

I bend grabbing the knife from the man I just took down and flip it a few times in my hand. “Makes sense.” I nod with a convinced look. “On your right,” I hum, and she ducks while I throw the knife perfectly to where it lodges itself in the thigh of her attacker. 

A blood-curdling scream sounds at his pain, and I pout at him in fake sympathy as Nat shoots her widow bite as he falls, making him shake in shock before passing out. 

“What about you?” she asks with a breath, brushing her hair out of her face. “Ever considered a neon green?” 

“What? No. Am I trying to get caught in this undercover scenario?” I reload my gun before holstering it, and we start jogging to our next spot. 

“I just think it’d be fun to venture away from the neutral tones for once. Maybe there would be a mission where you did need to be found and-” Nat’s cut off by coms in our ears. 

“Ladies, enough salon talk,” Tony’s voice comes through. “We have a situation on the northeast corridor where we could really use your help!” 

“We’re coming!” Nat groaned. “God. Micromanager is in full force today.” 

“Besides, Y/N’s skin complexion wouldn’t work with a neon green. Maybe a pink, though…” Tony continues before his coms cut out, and he’s back to shooting things from the sky.

“Oh, pink would be really good with your skin tone,” Nat seconds as we turn a corner. 

“No one is dying their hair pink! I could use some backup!” Bucky’s shouts come from the comms next.

“Where’s Steve?” Nat asks, pausing at a fork in the halls and signaling for me to follow. 

“Caught up at the moment,” Steve’s grunts came through my earpiece. 

“Almost there, Barnes!” I note as we come to the hall where he’s supposedly located. “And I’ll have you know, if I want to dye my hair pink, I’ll damn well dye my hair pink!” 

“Guns, Y/N,” Bucky groans. “I have guns going off around me and at me. I’m not worried about a fake scenario right now. I’m worried about a really real one that’s-” He’s cut off and grunts a few times. “Please just-” 

The two men he was up against fall slack to the ground, and he’s left panting with relief as he turns back to me, standing at the end of the hall with my gun lowering back to my side. 

“Please, what? I like it when you use your manners,” I smirk as I walk up proudly to him. 

“You need to be humbled a touch,” he notes, shaking his head as he checks his weapons and reloads them while I walk to stand by him. 

I roll my eyes before assessing our surroundings as he gears up. “You’re just jealous because the girls have more fun with undercover makeovers. You want a pink wig too?” I tease, poking his shoulder. 

He playfully shoves my own and makes me teeter some as I laugh. 

“I got the information!” Steve’s shout comes through the comms. “We can wrap this up.” 

“Thank God,” I groan, adjusting my holster on my hip. “I have dinner plans.” 

“Sorry to interrupt your schedule,” Tony snarks. 

“It’s ok. You can compensate by paying for my meal,” I say back, pushing the button in my ear to keep it in place. “Speaking of compensation…” 

“Y/N, I swear if you say you stole my credit card information again,” Tony groans. 

“What, me? No… I would nev-” 

“Shut it. I don’t even have the energy to fight you.” 

I turn to Bucky and wink, and he’s biting back a laugh with a wide smile. 

“You’re a mess, you know that?” he says lowly, the comms not picking up on us. 

“You like it,” I shrug and start moving down the corridor, where Nat’s waving us on to follow. 

“That I do,” he hums, following behind me and playfully kicking my ass with the tip of his boot. “Now, these dinner plans…” 

“Interested?” 

“More than you know…” 

____________________

Back at the compound, freshly out of the shower, I hear a knock on my door. “Just got out of the shower, but the doors unlocked!” I shout. 

“Dinner’s arrived!” Bucky shouts, shutting the door behind him carefully. 

“Thank God. I’m starving,” I grumble, throwing my sweatshirt over my head after getting dressed. “I’ll send Tony a thank you card later for covering tonight's meal,” I hum, drying my hair with a towel as I come into the room. 

The greased takeout bag smells fresh of hole-in-the-wall dinner food, making my mouth water. I grin as Bucky places it on the coffee table in front of my couch and starts arranging the containers for us to splurge. 

“No, you won’t,” Bucky responds to my thank you card comment. 

“No, I won’t,” I agree, jumping over the back of the couch and bouncing into the seat next to him. “Hmm, you smell nice.” I’ve come to learn, and so has Bucky, that his body wash might as well be my kryptonite. 

“I can say the same for-,” he bumps me with his elbow before his eyes narrow on my exposed shoulder, and without a second thought, he grabs my arms and moves my body to face him. “What’s that?” 

“What’s what?” I ask, looking down at the spot he’s glaring at as best as I can. 

“You got a cut,” he points out, hovering his fingers around the area and moving my sweatshirt out of the way. 

Damn, I knew I shouldn’t have cut the neckline to half my sweatshirt after that stupid TikTok trend I saw the kids doing… Or at least worn one that wasn’t butchered tonight.

“Buck, it’s literally a scratch. And I’m genuinely not downplaying it at all,” I note, grabbing his wrist and trying to move his hands away, but they have an iron grip on me. 

Or should I say, vibranium grip on me?! Haha! Get it?.. No? Ok, moving on…

But seriously. The cut was just that. A cut. It wasn’t anything like the night we talked things out months and months ago. That one had become slightly scarred, whereas this one will be scabed over in the morning and likely be gone in 2-3 days. I might as well have gotten into it with a cat who was pissed when he figured out he’d been put on a diet. 

“A cut’s a cut,” Bucky argues, looking up at me. “Did you clean it?” 

“Yes, I cleaned it in the shower with the rest of my body. I disinfected it, and it has that balm on it. And before you ask,” I say just as he opens his mouth. “Yes, it’s that special medical cream you had Banner make for me. I’m set.” 

Bucky had become a little more intense when it came to my injuries since about three missions ago, I had moved at the perfect time to redirect a knife headed right at him, but it sliced my palm in the redirection, and much to my misfortune, it was laced with something. 

To add to the list of medications he’s had Banner concoct specifically for my clumsy self (which were in the double digits at this point), I now have a poison control cream that counteracts most toxins and keeps me from saying hello to Heaven sooner than I hope. 

“You don’t feel weird or anything?” His eyes are scanning mine and my face for any lies or other injuries I haven’t told him about, and I’ve come to learn if it makes him feel better to double-check up to 20x before being satisfied, I’ll allow it. 

“I’m right as rain,” I nod, smiling at him softly, squeezing my grip on his wrist in reassurance. “The only thing I’m feeling is hungry and tired. So, what movie are we watching that I’ll inevitably fall asleep on you during?” 

He hesitates for a moment and then nods, dropping his hands and going back to the food. 

“I was thinking Tombstone,” he answers, grabbing one of the to-go containers with fries and a burger and handing it to me. 

“Another Western? What’s got you on the cowboy kick?” I ask, taking it and popping it open, instantly assaulted by the smell of freshly seasoned fries. 

“You keep nicknaming me cowboy, so I figured I should have a little background knowledge of the profession,” he winks at me over his shoulders as he gets his own food together. 

“Oh, yeah? You like the nickname?” I ask, nudging him with my knee. 

“When it comes from you? Yeah. Sam? No. Without hesitation, I will start adding laxatives to his protein shakes if he keeps it up.” 

I laugh at their friendship, and we start up the movie, diving into our much-deserved greasy meal. 

_____________

The next day, Steve, Bucky, Sam, and Wanda are lounging on the living room couch, all doing their own thing. Wanda and Sam are watching Sex in the City. Steve was reading a book called The Secret War of Laos, and Bucky was on his computer, fully engrossed in whatever was on the screen.

Nat clears her throat, and I stand next to her in a baseball cap with my hair completely hidden underneath. Everyone looks up, and instantly, Bucky’s eyes fall on me. He smiles for a split second before it drops, and he furrows his eyebrows at my appearance. 

“We have an announcement,” Nat smiles mischievously. 

“Oh God…” Bucky rubs his temples and looks down in his lap in seconds. 

“You don’t even know what we’re going to say,” I argue, not able to hold back my laugh. 

“I can use context clues,” he grumbles before looking up, his eyes squinted as if he had a bad headache forming, and it was already making his eyesight worse. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Nat waves him off as Sam and Wanda chuckle, and Steve looks oblivious to what is happening. “Anyway. Y/N and I made a bet and, well�� Y/N lost.” 

“Surprisingly, not mad about it,” I shrug, arms crossed over my chest.

“Of course, you’re not…” Bucky mumbles, shutting his computer and putting it to the side.

“What did I miss exactly? Because everyone seems to know what’s happening…” Steve asks, confused, taking in everyone’s reactions. 

“Come on. Let’s see it.” He interlaces his hands and rests them in his lap as he watches me. 

I smile at Nat, who’s also grinning wide, and move to take the ballcap off.

“Awesome,” Sam is the first to say something, and Wanda claps and gushes. 

“Oh wow, that’s so cute!” She smiles widely. 

“Whoa. That’s…” Steve turns his head to the side.

“Pink,” Bucky finishes for him. His eyebrows raise in what looks like surprise as he takes in my new hair. 

“Do you like it?” Nat asks the group, and there’s a mix of reactions as they talk over each other. 

I laugh with them for a little before walking over to Bucky’s side of the couch. Plopping down next to him, the crew talks about their own personal transformations they’d like to take and quickly forget about us in the corner. 

“Thoughts?” I ask, smirking up at Bucky as I sit almost wholly tucked into his side. His arm comes around my shoulders, resting there as he looks at me from the side. 

“I didn’t think you’d actually do it,” he chuckles once, taking it in up close now. 

“Eh, I thought a change-up would be fun. Change. Is. Good,” I shrug, poking his chest with each word. 

He moves to touch my hair, and as soon as his fingers touch it, his face contorts into an investigative look. 

“What?” I ask, biting my lip as he’s already catching on to my ploy. 

“This isn’t,” he rubs a piece of hair in between his fingers, studying the texture. The crease in between his eyebrows drops instantly, and he deadpans to me. “It’s a wi-” 

“Shhh!” I hush him, almost jumping in his lap as I cover my hand over his lips. He freezes, eyes wide, and his hand instinctively goes to my hip to balance me. “Let me live this fantasy a little longer,” I smile, holding back a giggle. 

“This is a fantasy of yours?” He asked behind my hands, words muttered and raising an eyebrow.

“Maybe fantasy isn’t the right word-” 

“Because it’s starting to turn into one for me,” he cuts in, and I can feel his smirk in the palm of my hand. 

I slowly drop it, astonished at his confession. “I’m sorry. Did I hear that right?” I ask, peering at our friends who are now arguing with Sam about growing an afro, which he is all for, apparently. 

Instead of answering, he licks his lips as he brings his hands to the wig and plays with strands of it.

“Maybe not the pink, but… How’d you feel about a violet?” he asked, eyes slowly rising to mine. 

“Oh. My. God…” I say lowly, sinking back in my seat, pressed to his side. “Did we just discover a new kink of yours?” 

“I fear we may have…” His voice was low and made a shiver go down my back. 

“I hold no fear at all,” I smirked back at him, looking him up and down. “All I feel about that statement is excitement…” 

“Where exactly did you get this? Because it looks pretty realistic…” His fingers still play with the wig, which, thanks to Nat, is a higher-end one. How he caught on to it being a wig is impressive. 

“Doesn’t matter,” I shrug. “What matters is I happen to know they carry all the colors…” I smirk. 

“Interesting.” 

“Interesting indeed.” 

He starts to stand up, and I’m confused by the action until he turns and offers me a hand up, and once I’m standing, he leans down to whisper in my ear, my hand still in his.

“We can keep this one for now. I have a few ideas still.” 

I look up at him, pleasant surprise on my face. “You know how I said change is good?” He nods with a smirk, his hand squeezing mine in response. “This,” I motion between us. “This is a change I’m glad happened.” 

“Same here,” he winked, pulling my arm to I’m be flushed with him, and he wrapped an arm around my shoulder, escorting me out of the room.

“Where are they going?” Nat asks, confused at our sudden leave. 

Everyone turns to see the tail end of us leaving, and Wanda laughs after a second and quickly covers her mouth. “God, pray for her,” she says under her breath, and Nat gives her a look. She tries to play it off by coughing and shaking her head. “Sorry, something in my throat.”

Marvel Tags:

@thejourneyneverendsx​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @death-unbecomes-you @mythos-writes​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​  @srrymydood​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @xa-dia​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @redhairedfeistynerd​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @morganclaire4​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @connie326​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @captain-asguard​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @mollygetssherlockcoffee​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @teenagedreams-bucky @shower-me-with-roses​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @livstilinski @basicallylool​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @starryeyeseunbyul​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

My Lovelies Forever:

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Bucky Barnes Tags:

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[ultravioletbrit]

“bag” - Jegulus microfic - @into-the-jeggyverse - 506 words

James is at the front of the queue and the person before him has just finished paying for their items.

“Have a nice day.” Says the most beautiful voice James has ever heard.

The other person leaves and James freezes because that beautiful voice belongs to the most beautiful man. He’s gorgeous. He has stunning pale, blue eyes that almost look silver and they’re staring directly at James and James feels like—

“Sir?” There’s that voice again. “Sir?... Sir?” … Oh, the voice is talking to him.

“Oh!... Sorry… I erm…” James steps forward. “Here’s my… yes… my erm…” James puts his items on the counter, but he stumbles and drops the toothpaste. “Shit… sorry…erm…” He picks it up and hands it to the man.

The man reaches out his hand and… it’s lovely. Slender and elegant with long graceful fingers; James wonders briefly if he might play the piano or—”

“Sir?” The man chuckles and James realizes they’re both holding the toothpaste because James never let go.  

“Sorry…” James quickly drops his hand. “I didn’t mean… erm… I… sorry”

“That’s alright, Sir.” The man sounds very amused. “How will you be paying today?”

“Oh… ehh… yes… erm… here.” James hands over his credit card.

The man takes his card and smiles at James when they make eye contact. “Thank you, Sir.”

That smile, those eyes… and if he calls James ‘Sir’ one more time, James might literally melt through the floor and—

“Would you like a bag, Sir?”

“God, damn it.” James sighs… he definitely didn’t mean to say that out loud.

“Sorry?” The man tries to stifle his laughter.  

“No!... I didn’t mean… erm… what?”

“A bag. I asked if you’d like your items in a bag?”

“Oh… erm… sure… a bag… that’s erm… yes… bag… please.” James fumbles and the man doesn’t hold back his laughter.

James groans and drops his head in embarrassment which only makes the man chuckle more. James lifts his head slightly and makes eye contact with him. His laughter fades into a soft smile and they stare at each other for a moment. James sighs softly and thinks, he’s already made a fool of himself, what’s he got to lose?

“Erm… would you… do you maybe… erm… is—"

“Would you like to get coffee next door in about half an hour?” The man interrupts.

“Huh?”

The man chuckles again. “I have a break in half an hour. Do you want to get coffee with me? And maybe, potentially string together enough words to make a full sentence.” He smirks.

James sighs and drops his head. He’s usually much better at this but this man completely stupefied him. James takes a deep breath to pull himself together and looks back up.

“I’m sorry about that.” James tells him. “I’d love to get coffee with you.” James smiles brightly.

“Well look at that; two sentences already. We’re off to a good start.” They both chuckle. “I’m Regulus.” He holds out his hand.

“James.” He shakes his hand.

“I’ll see you in half an hour, James.”

[jam3sacaster]

“What did you fucking say?”

(Rivals) Rupert Campbell-Black x Reader

Suggestion by a sweet anon 🫶🏽 / Rupert would go the ends of the earth to protect you, as he always told you. However, you’d never seen it in action…

18+ FANFIC / Feral, protective Rupert 🩷 Reader character aged at 21 🫶🏽 Mentions of half the cast 😅

It was a tantalisingly crisp Spring afternoon — golden rays of the sun casting a glow against the tremendous cups of daffodils and the brisk breeze dancing between the blades of grass at Green Lawns. Freddie and Valerie Jones had decided to host a garden party, meaning copious amounts of horrific champagne and a hoard of people exchanging fickle pleasantries. It was also yours and Rupert Campbell-Black’s first public outing as a newly established couple, and you secretly adored the scornful looks you received from every attendee’s envious wives as you arrived, hand-in-hand. The crowd has grown silent as he led you into the flamboyant garden, mouths agape in resentful shock.

“Charming welcome, as always.” Rupert remarked towards you, shooting the hushed crowd a fraudulent smile. Soon enough, their conversation grew frightfully noisy once again, although a few piercing gazes remained on you. “Oh hello, Mr Campbell-Black, please do help yourself to champagne.” A woman with a gaudily colourful dress on — mismatched hues of green and pink slapped onto a black linen shell — spoke towards your boyfriend, ignoring your presence entirely. “Thank you, Mousie. We will.” Rupert nodded, making his way to the buffet table and pouring you both a teeming flute of champagne. He just about made it over to you to hand you the glass, before he was whisked away by Valerie to introduce to an adoring gaggle of fans.

From across the carefully preened lawn, Tony Baddingham was involved in a tedious conversation with some television executives, but his piercing eyes leered at you like a hawk eyeing its prey. “Hello, gorgeous. Feeling like an outcast yet?” A familiar voice chimed from behind you, heavy hands pawing at your shoulders. “Hello, Bas. Not yet.” You grinned at the olive-skinned man, turning around to face him. At least you had one friend here — you had spent just as much time with Basil as you had with Rupert, often feeling like a third wheel in their fantastical friendship. “Oop. No. Not today.” Your boyfriend’s boyfriend groaned, bringing your champagne flute to his mouth for a stolen gulp, and practically bolting in the opposite direction. Utterly confused by Basil’s prompt exit, it immediately became apparent as Lord Baddingham emerged afore you.

“Why, hello there. Lord Baddingham. And you are… Rupert’s latest conquest, I take it? You’re not the first poor bitch he’s dragged along to one of these things.” The Roman-nosed man spat. God, Rupert’s right, he is a total cunt, you thought to yourself. “Lovely to meet you, Lord Baddingham. Rupert has told me all about you.” You respond — saccharine smile aching your lips. “Which lie has the poor bastard told you to get you here then? He’s never felt this way about anybody before, he’ll give you the world, or your pussy’s too tight that he can’t let you out of his sight?” Tony chortled at his own repulsive witticism. “I don’t think that’s rather appropriate to say to somebody you’ve just met if you don’t mind my saying, Lord B. I’m happy with Rupert.” You reply, but you needn’t have. Tony’s predatory eyes were ogling your cleavage, dreaming of something so very, very out of his reach. He leant in towards you, hot, acidic breath washing across your skin. “When he chucks you, you know where to find me. I wouldn’t mind a go on those marvellous tits.”

“What did you fucking say?” Rupert boomed from behind him, his voice irresistibly sexy and his presence providing the most needed wave of calm. Tony paused for a moment, exhaling deeply and turning on his heels. “I was just taking a moment to introduce myself to your new lady.” He replied, lying through his teeth. “No, what did you just fucking say to her?” Rupert reiterated, teeth grinding together so hard they could’ve crumbled. “Steady on, old chap. You’ll dispose of her in a few weeks, and she’ll be wanting to hold onto the fame with a new cock.” Tony hissed, the words leaving his mouth bitter and cold. It made you shiver in disgust.

Without hesitation, Rupert’s arm swung and delivered a forceful punch to Tony’s jaw, knocking the sinewy man to the floor and coaxing a ripple of gasps from the now gathering crowd. You clapped your hands across your mouth, shocked into silence. “Rupert! Don’t lower yourself, for fucks sake.” Basil thundered, sprinting over to his friend and pulling him aside. Tony, sitting up, tended to his bruised and bleeding jaw, Monica now fretting beside him. Rage seethed through Rupert’s body, but he smirked at the pain he’d inflicted on his mortal adversary.

“I’m terribly sorry you had to see that, angel. But there was no way I was going to allow him to speak of you like that.” Rupert huffed, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you tight to his chest. “Yes, of course. Well done, Rupert. Made yourself feel like the big man now, have you?” Tony continued his barrage of abuse, pulling himself to his feet and spitting a bloody glob of phlegm onto the ground. Marching towards him and grabbing a tight fistful of Tony’s navy silk shirt, Rupert practically lifted him from the grass. “Listen, Baddingham. If I see you so much as glance in her direction again, you’ll be straight to Corinium nursing a lot more than a fucking broken jaw. Do I make myself clear?” He seethed, and rather enjoyed seeing Tony spluttering in confusion. “Yes…” He managed to choke out in that weedy, pathetic voice of his.

“Good.” Rupert muttered, loosening his grip of Tony’s shirt and watching him fall to the ground once more. Taking a firm grip of your hand, Rupert ushered you towards the pathway. “Come on, angel. Let’s go home.”

[writingblogsandothers]

The Chosen One

Part 9

Writer's Note: This is it - the final part... I hope there's no disappointment. It's been so great writing this and seeing your reactions. On to the next work! Speaking of, the final hours for submitting your answers to our poll Sending all the love, as per X

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: Mild Taunting/Teasing // Mild Fear // Violence // Mentions of killing/death // Mild kissing // Mild indications of sleeping together (nothing overly descriptive)

Use of She/Her/Lady - Female Pronouns

Readers over the age of 18 only please

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4 // Part 5 // Part 6 // Part 7 // Part 8

Aurelia followed Geta, along with Marcus to secret quarters which she had never seen before. At the end of the dark hallway, was a closeted door. It was opened wide by Acacius and they all entered. The entire senate was present along with Lucilla. She ran over to meet Aurelia with open arms and hugged her tightly. They all sat to discuss the matter at hand – how they were going to deal with Macrinus.

A variety of opinions were floating around the room,

“Jail him.”

“We should exile him, he is a dangerous man.”

“He is too close to Caracalla, it would never work, Caracalla needs to be dealt with.”

On mention of his brother, Geta stood and paced the room. His mind wasn’t altogether sound, but he was his brother. His actions were inexcusable but the thought of any ill to come to him made him feel very uneasy. Aurelia noticed his demeanour and reached out to grab his hand as he paced in a bid to calm him down. He stood firmly behind her and listened to what the other senators had to say.

“Exile and jailing are not for this man. He would find a way to work around that. As you say, he is well acquainted with my brother. Death is to be the sentence. Leave Caracalla to me. He is to be excused.” Geta demanded. The senate looked round at one another, not saying a word.

“DID YOU HEAR ME SENATORS? NOT. TO. BE. TOUCHED.” He screamed.

The senators mumbled “yes, Emperor” and the room fell silent. All eyes were on Geta, seeking action. He pulled Aurelia up by her hand, “Marcus Acacius is to conduct the mission. Listen to his direct commands. Acacius, draft in whatever you need.” He took his wife to his chambers for the evening and retired into a deep sleep.

***

It was still dark outside when Aurelia heard a door handle opening. She woke bleary eyed staring at the direction of the door, anticipating seeing Geta coming in, but she looked to her side and there he lay. She lay back down again on the bed thinking she had made up something in her head when suddenly she her mouth was covered with a rag that had a funny smell. She could feel her eyes closing on themselves and as she tried to struggle, the darkness overtook her.

***

She started to come round when she realised, she was sitting upright. Where was she? Aurelia began to frantically look around and tried to get up. It was only then she noticed she was tied by the ankles and her arms were pinned behind her, also tied. There was no way to break out of the knots on her own. She prayed to the gods that Geta or someone would come to find her and free her.

“Ahhh, Aurelia. You’re awake.” A dark figure emerged from the shadows, but she would recognise that voice anywhere. It was Macrinus.

“I don’t know what you think you are doing Macrinus, but whatever it is, it’s not going to work.”

Macrinus laughed in Aurelia’s face, “Oh but it’s going to work so perfectly. Caracalla is so foolishly stupid, he is indoctrinated. He thinks this is all for his benefit, but the poor fool, HA HA!” He knelt in front of the woman, “Your husband’s pretty crown will be on my head very soon.”

“Geta will never let you get away with this Macrinus. You are delusional if you think my husband is so weak.”

“We’ll soon see about that. As I said earlier Aurelia, I am the kind of man Rome needs. A man who can get what he wants and ensures nothing comes in their way to stops them. With Geta out of the way, and his pathetic wife of no use, no one will stop me in accomplishing what I want.”

“Macrinus, you so much as touch a hair on my husband there will be hell to pay. Rest assured.”

Macrinus chuckled at her empty threat as he thought, “Well we’re going to bring him down here and let you see how we will torture him and make sure you watch as he suffers greatly.”

Aurelia sobbed and shivered at his cold, callous words. “Later ‘Princess’”, he walked out of the room as Aurelia started to shuffle in her chair and writhe like a snake in a bid to free herself, but it was no use. She broke down crying further, fearful for what was to come next.

***

It was sometime later before she heard great commotion.

Geta screamed, “AURELIA, AURELIA, WHERE ARE YOU?!”

“Geta! Please help me!! GETA!”

He followed the sound of her voice and ran into the room. He broke down into tears and ran to her to try and untie her. “My darling, darling girl. What have they done?”

“Geta, they’re going to kill us. They’ll do it, they’ll do it! Macrinus, he’s here. He told me such awful things. We must stop them – we have to get out of here!”

“Well, well, well – the woman isn’t as dim as she looks. She’s got one thing right, and it’s not about stopping us!” Macrinus and Caracalla crept round the corner.

Geta ignored Macrinus’ grating voice and looked deeply into the eyes of Caracalla, “Brother, I don’t know what he has said or promised you, but it’s all lies! Caracalla, in the name of the gods - come to your senses!”

Caracalla approached Geta, “You’re right Brother, I do need to come to my senses.” A large, bladed weapon was wielded from Caracalla’s belt, and it was held against Geta’s neck.

“GETA! Caracalla, I swear if you hurt him, I’ll-”

“Oh, sweet Aurelia, that’s quite endearing… Macrinus, deal with her.” Macrinus approached her, standing over her body and slapped her harshly across the cheek.

“Brother, please don’t do this. This man is a fraud, an imposter. He is only using you to get what he wants. Please brother, I love you – you know that. We can get through this.”

Caracalla stared into the eyes of his brother, for a second Geta saw a glimmer of hope, “Brother, she has turned you so pathetic. It’s pitiful to see you the way you are. This is why I have always had a problem with you and her. Love makes the strongest men weak, and I feel brother that by doing this, I will actually be doing you a grave justice.”

Geta was about to speak when a Marcus Acacius entered the quarters and fighting ensued. The commotion startled Caracalla that Geta was able to get free. He went to get Aurelia, but her chair was now empty. He looked over to find Acacius and Macrinus sparring with their respective swords. When he turned back around, he was pushed abruptly to the ground by Caracalla and saw his blade swipe up into the air.

This was it.

This was how it was all to end.

An ambush by his own brother.

He closed his eyes preparing for the impact, when he heard a grave groan. He looked up to find Aurelia had impaled Caracalla in the upper shoulder. He fell with a thump to the ground.

He began manically laughing as he lay on the ground, “Macrinus, get this useless woman!”

With that, Acacius dropped Macrinus’ head in front of his face.

“There’s your great puppet commander, Emperor.”

Caracalla cried out and wept, “Macrinus, my sweet, sweet Macrinus.” He swept his fingers over his face.

Geta held his wife close as both of them wept. Acacius gathered Caracalla to address his wound. It wasn’t life threatening, just enough to stop him in his tracks.

“Emperor, what are we to do with him?” Acacius asked.

“He’s to be dethroned. Get him into the gladiator quarters, and fetch Aurelia’s brothers. Let the gods decide his fate.”

Caracalla cried, “Brother, brother, please I have failed you. Please, I will do better.” He continued to cry out after Geta, but he turned his back and ignored his cries as Acacius handed him across to the guards who stood at the doorway and followed them to the gladiator stay keep.

Geta held Aurelia even tighter. He was glad his wife was safe, but the betrayal of his brother was too much for him to accept. However, he had to face facts. Caracalla was willing to make his life a living hell. She was his possession, so any harm to her, affected him. He was also willing to get rid of him in a bid to help Macrinus take to higher power. It couldn’t go on. In this case, the gods were best to decide.

“Sweet husband, I love you. I am sorry how Caracalla has betrayed you. I don’t know how to make things better, but they will. Time will heal.”

He sighed, “Yes, it will. Come, let’s get out of here.” He took Aurelia by the hand and led them into the light.

***

With Aurelia’s brothers freed, the games resumed. The crowds gasped when they saw the new addition to the gladiators.

“PEOPLE OF ROME! We have a new gladiator in the rink, my brother, Caracalla. He is there to allow the gods to decide his fate. He has shown great treason, along with Macrinus your new senator. Guards, show the crowd Macrinus!”

A head rolled into the arena, and the crowd gasped – then erupted into great cheering and clapping.

“Now, RELEASE THE MONKEYS!” the crowd cheered once more, and the fighting began. He sat to watch the carnage ensue, taking Aurelia’s hand in his. Lucilla looked on the pair fondly, she was glad the threat of Caracalla was gone. Maybe Geta would soften in his new position without having to compete with his brother and his impish ways.

By the time it was finished, Caracalla was the only gladiator standing. He cheered for himself thinking him victorious, yet Geta knew of the rule. He had the option to chose whether he lived to fight another day or not. Aurelia looked up at him with sad eyes, she knew the fate that lay ahead of him, and she did not like the burden it leaned on her husband. Acacius chimed in, “Remember his treason, Emperor.” Geta nodded.

“THE GODSSS HAVEEEEE SPOKENNNNNNN!!!” he screamed at the top of his lungs, and firmly pointed his thumb down to signal it was the end of the road for Caracalla.

He took his wife by the hand and exited the balcony, choosing not staying to observe. Acacius and Lucilla followed behind. Aurelia couldn’t help but feeling sad for the entire event. While he was vile, Caracalla was easily led, but he was dangerous. She also couldn’t help but feel terribly sorry for her husband. It was his brother after all, and she could see that it pained him. But he was treasonous, and that was not permitted. Not in the slightest.

Aurelia knew of a secret, but it was not the right time to reveal it. She knew it would make her husband happy, but right now he had to grieve the loss of his best friend and brother. Aurelia knew she had to stand up to her duties, as a wife and Empress. She had to make sure Geta was her top priority, to help keep Rome in check, and ensure she kept herself well to ensure the future heirs of Rome inherit only the best traits to create a strong line to keep Rome alive.

[jellyskink]

The Tooth And The Following Headache. (A cringey crackship)

"Alright Pines, you're good to go now. You remember where the exit is yeah?"

(Geez, the more I see this guy the MORE I find myself needin' to buy another pack of cold ones for the week.)

The day was about as fun as you'd expect it to be with "him" around. I was just about to have a good day too, of course things would go wrong as soon as I was about to relax and finish up work.

Ford Pines had his monthly appointment with me today, an appointment that I was booked with because of Oleander's meddling probably.

"Yes Dr.Ibis, I remember. H-How is everything looking if I may ask?"

(Horrible, if I was presented this during dental school I'd probably have thought it was the BEFORE photo, not AFTER.)

"Eh, I've seen worse. But you're doin' better than last time."

(That was a lie and a truth both in the correct order. Geez what HAS this freak been doing? The first time I saw him I was surprised he hadn't kicked the bucket or passed out at the very least from what problems he was dealing with. It was almost like I was checking off everything in the book on what was wrong with this guy. I mean, damn if I didn't know better I'd assume this guy was eating glass for fun or something.)

"R-really? Oh my Muse will be so pleased! The care you and Dr. Oleander have been providing me has been astronomically wonderful! My muse certainly knows how to find the best people to introduce me to!"

(Ugh, here we go again. "My muse" this, "my muse" that. I wish he'd can it about that damn triangle, the problems that kindergartner art project looking thing have been causing have been one of my biggest headache bringers to date.)

"Yep, he sure does. Now can we get along to the part where we just schedule your next appointment? I'm a very busy man you know, patients to see and all that."

"Of course! I'll need to run it by my Muse before it's finalized, but I can certainly get the word to him!"

"Sure thing bud."

(Thank god, this is going quicker than I thought. I really hate having this guy ruin the mood in my office with his... everything. What did Irene even see in this guy? This wacko clearly didn't have a personality besides being a sad clingy puppy dog whose entire being was dedicated to his "Muse".)

(Irene was pretty secretive about certain things regarding that guy whenever we ended up talking over the phone or the occasional coffee. Which for a normal doctor that'd be expected, patient confidentiality and all that. But Irene crossed that line long ago as soon as she took him on as one of her patients.)

(The guy wasn't extremely interesting to my knowledge outside of his extra fingers. If anything he was boring or weird, sometimes both at the same time. The guy wasn't particularly charming, he did LOOK handsome, and OCCASIONALLY wasn't the worst to be around, but geez I hated everything else about the guy.)

"Ah Dr.Ibis before I forget, I have something for you."

(OH GOD NOT THIS AGAIN.)

Before I even had a chance to react any further, Mr.Triangle lover quickly reached into his bag and pulled out something small with reddish-brown fur and held it out to me.

(What even is that? Is that a hamster? No, it was a vole. He brought me a freaking vole. It wasn't even alive. And he was holding it out to me with that stupid smile of his.)

I don't know what came over me, but the next thing I knew I slapped the dead rodent out of his six fingered hand. As it smacked the ground, I saw my patient flinch and begin to step back from me.

"GET YOUR DAMN ROADKILL AWAY FROM ME!"

"I-I'm sorry for upsetting you Dr.Ibis, I only wanted to-"

"What? I don't want to hear about how your "Muse" gave you dead rats as gifts again! It's disgusting! I can't stand dead animals! I don't want you to act like your dramn crazy mu-"

I wasn't even able to finish the sentence before I felt myself getting pushed against the wall with enough force to knock the wind out of me. I winced from the surprise as I began to process what happened.

It was that... that... Six fingered psycho!

(What the hell!? What is he doing??)

I was always kinda worried about this guy being the reason why someone ended up hurt, I never expected him to be the literal reason for it!

"DR. IBIS."

An unexpected tone shift from what I was used to from the guy, his voice was now booming and gruff.

(OKAY I'M REALLLY NOT USED TO HIM BEING SO LOUD OR AGGRESSIVE.)

"PLEASE... WATCH WHAT YOU SAY... ABOUT MY MUSE..." His tone lowered into a raspy hiss as the words fell from his mouth.

I really wanted to respond to him, to fight back, SOMETHING. And yet I found myself frozen with fear.

The next thing I know, I felt a rough, trembling hand tilt my head up. My field of vision focusing on the unhinged man in front of me.

"BAD THINGS... HAPPEN TO THOSE W-WHO UPSET HIM..."

(I-is he? Crying? What the hell?? Why is HE the one that's upset here? He was the one who flipped out on me!)

I didn't have much time to process everything as he moved away from me. I heard a loud crunch from the side of me as he did.

(THE HELL?? Did he break something??)

I glanced to the side of me instinctively, there was a hole in the hall next to me.

(Okkkaaay. Well it definitely wasn't the first time the office drywall got punched or broken. Whether that was ever by me at times was something that was a secret I wasn't going to tell any higher ups anytime soon.)

"Hey... Mr.Pines?"

"..."

The guy slowly walked over to the wall at the opposite side of the room, a blank stare on his face, a crimson fluid leaking from one hand onto the floor as he held it to his side, while his other hand clutched his creepy locket to his heart.

Before I could continue speaking, he began whisper to himself while facing the wall.

"i'msorryi'msorryi'msorryi'msorryi'msorryi'msorryi'msorryi'msorryi'msorryi'msorryi'msorryi'msorryi'msorryi'msorryi'msorryi'msorryi'msorryi'msorryi'msorryi'msorry."

His head banging against the wall with eerie tempo as he spoke in a whispered voice, his tone now monotone.

"Mr.Pines??"

(What the hell? I knew this guy was probably insane but this was taking it a whole new level!)

"I'MSORRYI'MSORRYI'MSORRYI'MSORRYI'MSORRYI'MSORRYI'MSORRYI'MSORRYI'MSORRYI'MSORRYI'MSORRYI'MSORRYI'MSORRYI'MSORRYI'MSORRYI'MSORRY."

The horrid tempo was now picking up speed.

"STANDFORD STOP IT!"

"..."

(He finally responded?)

The room was eerily silent as I tried to process what had even happened. After what felt like an eternity of sitting in awkward silence, the unhinged man I was watching turned around to face me again.

"U-um Dr.Ibis? Forgive me, I spaced out while we were about to finish our conversation earlier. W-what were we speaking about?"

A pretty nasty bruise was now starting to form on his forehead.

(THE HELL DO YOU MEAN WHAT WERE WE TALKING ABOUT??? WTF WAS THAT???)

I did my best to collect myself. I vaguely some of the info Oleander shared with me about her patient. I think she mentioned how he had certain traumatic triggers or something?? Damnit now I wish I had paid better attention to her phone call that day as she yammered on.

"It... wasn't important. Just...if you're going to leave me dead animals, do ya mind if perhaps you wrap them up before handing me them or something?"

"I-it isn't traditional I suppose, b-but I'll check in with my muse if I could be given grace to do that sort of thing. Forgive me, I don't mean to screw up showing my thanks to you..."

(Geez and now we're back to another episode of watching the saddest man ever. Ick, Oleander I swear you owe me big time for all these bones I'm throwing your patient.)

"Listen I appreciate it, in a way... I just prefer.... live animals? And I don't like rodents very much."

"I-I see... well I can't promise my muse will be happy with any changes, but I'll keep note of that."

"Listen Stan-"

"StanFORD."

"Stanford. Why don't we just pretend today didn't happen? I'm pretty tired today, and it looks like you could use some rest too."

"I... suppose my muse might not mind that. I don't think I can rest, but I know what you mean."

"Thank you Stanford. Now... why don't I drive you over to Oleander's office for a sec? I think she needed to see you for a second."

(Pleasedon'tputupafightohgodIdon'twantyoudyinginmyofficeIdon'twanttodealwiththepaperworkoranyotheraxhahstingproblemsthat'dcomefromthathappening!!)

"I-I suppose it wouldn't be too much trouble as long as we don't take TOO long. My muse seems to trust some of her judgement a lot..."

"Yeahh... well I'm just going to close up shop now.

"Of course Dr.Ibis."

(Irene I swear to god you owe me big time on top of a LONG conversation about what's the plan for your patient in the long term. If I'm going to be dragged along with you on your quest to be the queen of bleeding hearts I don't want to end up sinking with you.

Geez I need a drink after this, guess I'll be needing to buy TWO packs of cold ones from the store after this "fun" work day.)

Unfortunately for future me, one of the new "gifts" I'd start to get from Standford FREAKING Pines were eyebats. Live ones. And they were just as annoying as him. Easier to get rid of though...

(AHH I HAD SO MUCH FUN WRITING THIS. I thought I'd gve it a go with writing in a more first person style when it came to a Dr.Ibis focused fic.

Yes I was possessed by a 14 year old girl harnessessing wattpad, ao3, and tiktok as I wrote this, but the idea of these two having a genuine friendship/relationship sounds hilarious to me.

I hope you liked my attempts at channeling Yusuf energy! Unfortunately he does have the tsundere curse a bit because this is a enemies to lovers kind of fic lmaoo. Hopefully the Ford energy wasn't the worst either??

I totally loved your fic other anon fanfic writer! With Jellyskink's permission we should definitely team up and write many cringey and wonderful fanfictions for this au!

Speaking of which, I'm glad once again people liked my silly little Oleander and Calamari fic! The little trickster kitty is now one of my favorite things about the au!

I love that Calamari was in the cat show Ford lost in! I'm guessing she might've won?

Either way, totally looking forward to the rivalry between Ford and Calamari lmaooo!!)

OKAY I LOVE THIS

Ibis is like "why are the hot ones always crazy"

Thank you for writing for my sad dumpling again!!! 💖💖

[ddreamywitch]

Chapter Seven - Take Me to Church

knight!benjicot x princess!reader

Word count: 3.5k

Song: Take Me to Church - Hozier

a/n: Benji pov fans (me) RISE UPP!!

Benji's mind is spinning in circles like never before.

What has he done?

Why has he done it?

He looks at you, your cheeks an intense shade of cherry-red and he wants to throw up a little bit.

How could he do this to you? How could he have done this to you?

You are so soft and innocent, you are to be wed, you are the king's daughter. 

His uncle must be right. He is a man barely in charge of his instincts. 

"Would you stop looking at me like that," you say.

He clears his throat and steps back. "Apologies," he mumbles. Then he takes another, precautionary step back, because he feels the closeness is only making things worse. 

There is an arm's length distance between the two of you now and you are looking at him very confused. 

Maybe he should jump off the tower. 

You hum an unsure sound, a question of what to do now. 

Benji clears his throat again. "Apologies, princess, I should not have been so..."

"So un-knightly?" you offer to finish his sentence. 

He nods. Now you look a bit hurt and he wishes he could turn back time. 

Ser Benjicot of House Blackwood was certainly no stranger to a woman's touch but this is certainly new territory to him. This is a woman far above him. He had never had affiliations with somebody like this. In all honesty, he had never even spoken to a noble woman that outranked him for longer than a fleeting moment before he had met her. 

None of this would have happened if he hadn't threatened to kill the entirety of the Bracken clan during their meetings to make peace. 

A statement he still feels is justified given how those depraved heathens act. 

"Benji, would you please say anything," you plead.

"Hmm, can't." It comes out sounding as though he's swallowing his own bile, which is also what is happening. Oh god in heaven above, what had he done. 

You pick up the discarded tiara and per instinct he averts his eyes, as if his tongue hadn't just been stuck in your throat mere minutes ago. 

They were going to execute him for this. And you would be shunned.

Who even is ‘they’? Nobody knows. 

"Nobody can ever find out," he says.

You snort as you sort your ridiculous feathered monstrosity of a tiara out on your head. "I wasn't about to tell the town-crier, Benjicot, I am not slow."

No, that is right you are not. Why had you even kissed him? Or had he kissed you?

"My god, all those stories about you impaling people and yet you stand before a woman quivering."

He meets your eyes and it feels like a punch to his stomach, right where he is the most vulnerable, but he doesn't understand why he feels that way.

"I'm sorry."

You seem mad. "I will go to my chambers now. Will Ser Corrigan take the night's watch?"

Ser Corrigan? What an odd face to think about at this moment. A weathered, old man, such a harsh contrast to whom he is looking at now, with your soft edges and your softer lips and those eyes that are looking at him with much intensity. 

"I believe yes." 

You nod and lift your dress, decidedly making your way down the stairs again. 

He remains where he is, incapable of moving even as he listens to your steps get quieter. 

Why, why, why can he never ever think before he acts? 

His feet drag across the floor, heavy with the weight of his decisions as he follows you down into the heart of the castle. 

He catches up with you just as you're about to slam the door into his face. 

Per instinct his hand shoots out, just for it to be squashed. 

You gasp in horror, which is so tooth-achingly sweet that it makes his veins burn. 

Ser Corrigan is standing by the door and glances back and forth between the two of you.

"My god, Ser Benjicot," you scold and open the door a little wider. 

There's a twitch in your fingertips and he'd like to think that it's because you want to reach for him, even if it's only to see if he's injured.

Which he isn't. "It's fine, I will just bruise."

You pout, in that angry way you tend to, clearly not satisfied with his answer. 

"Step inside, I wish to have a word for you."

Ser Corriggan harrumphs. You both look at him confused. In fact you look a little bit like you are realising just now that he is also present for this exchange. 

"Princess, I am certain that the Lord of the house will soon arrive to question your early departure from dinner," he reminds you. 

Benji wishes that ugly toad would fall down a flight of stairs. The Cathcart toad. He doesn't have an issue with Corrigan. Except, perhaps, for the fact that he is here and talking when he feels the very deep-rooted need to explain himself to you. 

You sigh. "Would you please send him away when he comes? I am in no mood to be infantilized by an overgrown boy."

Ser Corrigan nods. but there is doubt etched into the lines of his face. 

Benji wants to say something to him but he has no time to, your fingers are forceful in the leather plates on his forearm. 

Tamsyn looks terrified. 

Benji is painfully aware that she is terrified of him. He misses Marion. Not that he knew her well, but she didn't look like she may hurl the moment he laid eyes on her, the way that this girl is.

"You are excused," you tell her and he's glad but yet there is an inkling of nervosity in his chest, scratching at the walls of his insides. 

You grab his hand, twist and turn it. He tries to not let it bother him. "It doesn't hurt," he says.

One thumb presses into the back of it. "Does this hurt?"

The wince is stopped in his throat but he can't hide his facial expression betrays him.

"Why in the world would you do that? The door cannot be locked anyway," you scold and drop his hand.

You cross the room, a glimmering green flurry of layers. 

He stands there, like some sort of unwanted fixture until you return from your vanity with a tiny vial and a long white piece of fabric, the function of which he cannot identify until it is ripped by your wrathful hand. 

"Is that your veil?", he asks. You don't answer.

Instead you grab his hand and leave a generous trail of your oil across his knuckles. "It's arnica, lavender and rosemary. This is supposed to be your good hand, you cannot ruin yourself so carelessly."

"You are being theatrical," he tells you and regrets it when your face goes sour like spoiled milk.

"Am I? Am I being dramatic? The only reason you are still here is your ability to kill quicker than you think." 

It hurts him where you want it to hurt him. "Why are you so enraged?"

With a poking finger you guide him to the bed. "Sit," you order. If he wasn't already on thin ice, he'd make a joke about how commandeering you can be.

It reminds him of when you had set his nose, except then you had cowered down to be at eye level with him. You don't do that now and with a lot less gentleness you wrap up his hand. 

Entirely unnecessary, but he feels he should let you or else you might actually break a finger of his. Or two. 

"You know what I meant." It becomes a question as it rolls off his tongue. 

"You didn't even say anything to be misunderstood, Lord Benjicot Blackwood." 

His name is an insult, by the way it drips with venom. 

"I must have, because why else would you be trying to strangle my wrist."

Your touch loosens in an instant. 

"Well, if you must know, I would have hoped for something more than watching you nearly throw up into the courtyard right after shoving your tongue into places where into places where it isn't supposed to be."

It is hard to not grin but social complexities aren't entirely lost on him. 

"My apologies."

"Not accepted," you mumble through gritted teeth and finish up the bandages. "Find some herbs for me and I might consider accepting."

He nods as he looks up at you, praying that you don't notice that you're still holding his hand.

Your face is stern, a look so unnatural on you, he wants to wipe it off. 

"I will find herbs," he promises and unthinkingly, maybe unknowingly, he isn't certain, his thumb swipes a circle across your knuckles.

Knuckles that have never hurt, knuckles free of scars, softer than his hands have ever been.

You wince and pull your hand out of his grasp and he thinks he's overstayed his welcome but you sit down next to him. 

"Benji."

"Witch."

You scoff. Fingertips begin twisting the rings on your fingers. 

"You know I cannot be careless about this. I cannot go forth and pretend it didn't happen."

He wraps his hand around yours again. "I know."

"Now you must tell me what your intentions are."

Benji halts and looks at you confused. You roll your eyes. 

"That is how one courts a lady," you explain further. 

"Ahh." Now he cannot hide the grin. "I cannot court you, you know this."

"You can court me in secret."

He chuckles, a low rumble in his chest. "My intentions are pure-hearted little witch."

"I highly doubt it. You are a rake. And also you are nicknamed 'Bloody Ben' which is just ridiculous if you ask me. And even further you constantly look like you've just buried a body, to the point that even Marion feared you." You throw your free hand up in exasperation. "Marion!"

His hand is beginning to hurt now that the adrenaline has ebbed down a bit. "I'm not so bad, you know. I didn't rat you out. I didn't even complain when you drooled onto my pants the other night."

Every single time he sees you flush his heart grows so far he swears his ribs are digging into it. 

Suddenly, he can't remember why he was so terrified earlier. 

"I promise I will try to not be careless. And I will attempt to look less...bloody?"

You shake your head. "I don't want you to change. You're alright as you are. I am more so concerned with your ability to handle secrecy."

"I am an excellent keeper of secrets."

"You don't wear a mask." 

He frowns at you. "What? Are we at a masquerade ball?"

"No, I mean you wear your emotions on your face. It's your greatest flaw. I don't know how this can be, I don't imagine you do this when you fight people."

Benji had never thought about this. But then again, there are many things he hadn't thought about before he met you. There's a lot of things he never thought about before today. 

There's a weird thing between the two of you now. It looms over you as you squeeze his hand and when you drop your head against his shoulder. He isn't courting you.

You are to be married. 

He's kissed you, feverishly, with all-consuming passion and he can't go back and he doesn't want to but he can't go ahead either. 

He's stuck. Once again. Though it is starting to feel less like he's stuck as your knight. 

Quite an easy duty, with a princess like this. 

There's a bang on the door and the two of you jolt apart in an instant. He misses your hair tickling his jaw instantly. 

"Your highness," Lord Cathcart sneers through the door. 

"Wanker," Benji mumbles beneath his breath. 

"What?" You yell out.

"Come out. I wish to speak with you."

You get up but Benji is faster once more, cracking open the door the tiniest bit. "The princess has retired for the night. You may speak with her on the morrow, my good Lord."

The slimy man pries his hands into the small opening. Fortunately he has no real strength compared to Benjicot, who stops the thing from moving as far as an inch. "You forget yourself, bloody Ben. This is my castle."

At this, Benji opens the door far enough to push himself through and Erik away. The fool stumbles. 

He can't say it's not amusing to him. 

"And these are the chambers of a woman. You have no right to them. Only the king does."

He pauses and does a dramatic look around the hallway. 

"And as far as I am able to tell he is not here."

Eric sputters and reddens. Not like you do, but in an angry entirely off-putting manner, that almost makes Benji want to giggle. 

"You rest assured Blackwood boy, your days as a knight are counted."

Benji shrugs. "The Brackens will surely be happy to have me as their neighbour once more."

Lord Cathcart scoffs. "You'll be lucky to get out alive." 

And as if he hadn't heard a word just spoken he heads to the door, where you are standing. 

You look a bit dishevelled and Benji is a bit proud but he can't think on it too long, as Erik towers over you with the last shred of authority he can conjure up. "You will be my wife. I offered to go about this smoothly, but you went ahead and disrespected me. You will be my wife and then you will have no choice but to obey. I shall see to that."

Benji doesn't need to say anything this time. Ser Corrigan steps between your figures and clears his throat. "The princess is not to be spoken to in such a manner. I think it best we all rest tonight and tomorrow there will be a new day to set things right."

Erik Cathcart is not one bit pleased but he realises he has not much choice and so he yields and scurries off like the little weasel that he is. 

The sight of him makes Benji want to ram his head into a wall. 

The king is a fool for sending his daughter into the arms of this man, for removing her from the castle, for running the entire kingdom into the ground like nobody in his ancestry before him had ever managed.

One could only hope that a fallen woman like Lady Cathcart is worth this much trouble. 

Hell, Benji wouldn't ever care about the societal standing of a woman but he has never let last night's fuck influence today's mood in his life.

He looks to you and then back at Ser Corrigan, who has become very hawk-eyed all the sudden. 

"I think it's for the best if I retire to my bed as well," he says and you nod in acceptance, though he can't help but notice the smidge of disappointment in your eyes. 

His feet guide him to the yard and then the stables where a young man bows to him in panic. 

He remembers that this is Bracken affiliated ground. God knows what cruel tales have been told of his fights. They all likely think him to be a man with no honour. 

Benji wants to and saddle a horse, desperate to clear his mind, when his gaze flickers out the door and falls on the church. 

He hesitates for a moment, debating his choices, when he decides that it can’t hurt to pay the confessional a visit. 

It’s a small church, not very decorated. The one at the capital has huge stained windows and your dresses tend to look quite…pretty in that lighting. That is also about the only thing he could fathom to like about being inside that place.

He’s never been religious, nowhere near as much as he likely should be. 

The thought of a god looming over his head has never made him anything but uncomfortable. 

He finds it unsettling that he might be judged by an omniscient creature. He also finds that religious people are often liars. 

And yet, there he stands, in the hallway, staring at the altar. 

He’s not even sure how confessions even work anymore. 

The priest floats into the room at the other end of it, the same one as from the dinner. He’s such an odd looking person. 

“Ah. I thought you might appear here, son,” he says, his voice echoing. 

Benji scrunches his nose a little. “Did you now, father?” He takes a few tentative steps forward. “I’d like to confess something.”

The priest nods and points towards the confessional. For a third time, he contemplates his choices but he decides that he’s no coward and takes a seat on his side of the booth. 

“In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.”

There’s a beat of silence until Benji remembers what to do. “Amen,” he says after clearing his throat. “Bless me Father for I have sinned, it has been…I don’t remember, since my last confession.” 

Here goes. What’s there to lose? Maybe his mind, Benji thinks to himself. 

“I have corrupted somebody.”

The priest doesn’t speak. 

Benji clears his throat again. This feels violently tense. He’s not sure it should be. 

“I suppose my sin is cardinal. Sin of Lust.”

The priest’s gown makes a ruffling sound. “Ah. It is a common one.”

“This one has pretty high stakes involved, I assure you, father.” He is fairly certain that being sarcastic with a clergyman in a confessional booth is not something you’re supposed to do. But what’s it matter? He doubts a quick trip here could save his soul anyway. 

“Perhaps I should go.”

“No. Stay. Tell me what troubles you, son. Only God can help through all.”

Benji sighs and rakes a hand through his hair. “Well, I have kissed a girl. She is promised to another and I have put her virtue at risk.”

He glances over, through the barred hole in the wall and distantly makes out the side profile of the priest. “Did you force her hand?”

“No. I have killed men but I do have some dignity.”

“Well, then the girl is also guilty of a sin. But it is normal. God has made us flawed creatures. It is the way our lives go. You made the good choice, coming here. Pray the litany of Mary Magdalene three times, son.” 

He doesn’t enjoy the fact that the priest keeps calling him son. That should be reserved for one person only. He wipes his hands clean on his pants, clean of nothing in particular. He gets up to leave.

“Wait,” the priest commands. “I must warn you.”

Benji frowns. “Of what?”

The priest’s voice drops to a whisper. “There is treachery afoot in the house of Cathcart. Other houses too. I do not know the extent of it.” The priest’s gown rustles. “You must worry. You must watch yourself.” There’s a pause. “And you must write to the heir to the throne.”

Benjicot stares at him now. “What?”

“You think the Lord to be a fool and in many ways he is. But he is part of a grand scheme. I cannot tell you more.”

Benji hurries out of the booth around to the other side. “What the fuck are you blabbing about?”

“This is a house of God,” the priest reprimands at his cursing. “And I will not. I mustn’t endanger you. You need to be alive and well to serve the princess, do you not?”

“Is that a threat, old man?” 

The priest shakes his head. “I am helping you. Write to the prince. Tell him to tread carefully.” 

He points towards the entry. “This betrothal is a curse.”

He has to suppress the urge to point the dagger in his pocket against the man’s neck and get more out of him. But he remembers you and your words. He does not know how to handle the web of conspiracies that are spun around the nobility. He does not know how to solve them without laying hands and even then that would rarely diminish the problem. 

Benji steps back and considers the priest. “Well, then. Three litanies.”

With that he hurries out of the church. On the morrow he shall tell you. For now, he falls into his bed, mind continuously spinning around your kiss. When sleep comes for him, you leave with his thoughts and enter again through his dreams. 

taglist:

@dancingbaek

@jhepolie 

@knight-of-flowerss

@majoso12

@rebeccawinters 

@poppyflower-22

@nixtape-foryou

@accidentpronedork

@xlittlefiend

@vqmpyrecult

@chainsawsangel

@esposadomd

@juhdoche 

[rainydayarcaneimagines]

One Last Night(Jayce x reader)

Warnings: SHIELD YOUR EYES FOR THE UNCOVERED ANKLES (smut. There is smut.)

It was all a shock. To land in an alternate reality where everything was fucked up. But it was an even bigger shock to him when he went to go back to his own and still ended up in the wrong reality.

There he was and everything was…

Great?

Life was almost a damn Utopia. What was crazier was Zaun and Piltover were put together and better functioning than his own damn reality. He walked the streets absolutely fucking baffled by what was happening before him. He heard tidbits and realized that in this reality his creation killed Vi, but was destroyed in the process.

From what he managed to understand, he had basically gone through his trial by getting his experiment confiscated. Even weirder, Jayce was successful in other ways but not… actually hextech.

It was beyond bizarre. Especially since… you were alive. No hextech meant no advanced weapons, no explosion, no explosion meant you were alive. Now he was fixated on finding you. If he was stuck there, he had to find you.

He had looked high and low.

And nothing.

Not a freaking sign. He sighed, sitting at a booth in a bar with his head in his hands when the gods seemed to finally answer his prayers.

“Can I get you anything sir?”

Jayce’s head snapped up and his eyes widened. You were fucking beautiful. Your hair was longer, dyed a vibrant color, just like you always said you wanted but weren’t ballsy enough to go through with it. Your eyes were brighter. You seemed happy.

“Y/n..” he breathed.

“Yeah that’s my name dude, don’t abuse it.” You chuckled.

“Jayce— it’s me Jayce.” He said staring at you. You squinted.

“Uh… do I know you man?” You asked confused. Oh fuck. No hextech meant you never got hired at the academy to be his assistant…

“Fuck uhm…” he sighed. You looked at him confused.

“You okay?” You asked. Your kindness was definitely still there.

“Uh… Shit I uhm.” He couldn’t form words. You were alive. The love of his fucking life was alive. But didn’t know who he was.

“…Need a drinking buddy?” You asked.

“…Yeah that uhm… Yes please.” He nodded.

“Vander! I’m taking my break!” You called out. Holy crap— Vander and Silco were alive?! And running a damn bar—“what’s got you so weirded out right now?” You asked.

“Why do you think I’m weirded out?” He muttered.

“Because you looked… bugged out, like you just took a fucking ice bath dude.” You shrugged. Glad to see your bluntness was still intact too.

Jayce smiled sadly before sighing. “I uhm… well I just… feel like a fish out of water.” He admitted.

“Why’s that?” You asked.

“…” did he risk sounding nuts, potentially causing you to freak the fuck out? Did he risk pushing you away from him? Fuck it. Things were still out of control in his reality, he needed to find a way back and there was someone he knew had a brilliant enough of a damn mind to make it work. “This is going to sound crazy but—“

He explained it all. From start to finish. You of course, stared at him like he was nuts. “Yeah but do you have proof dude, because right now you sound batshit.” You said after the explanation.

He sighed leaning back. “Your favorite song is Midnight blues. But you always say it’s Eros.” He says. You snorted.

“Okay weirdo maybe you just lurk on my Next tune—“

“You are allergic to peanuts. You always wanted a poro but your allergies stop you so you have a hairless cat instead. You love to sit on top of the old factory at night because it overlooks everything and you love to see the city at night, you love ionian literature, you hate the sounds of trucks that run too loud and flip off the driver every time you see one.” He listed off. Some of those were habits you knew no one would know. And he knew this. “You wear your grandmother’s locket. It has a picture of both your grandparents inside, the damn thing is almost eighty years old and has their initials engraved on the heart.” That. That detail made you believe him. Because you wore your locket, yes. But it was tucked inside your shirt so the pendant wouldn’t fall off.

You stared at him “..How did you—“

“Because in my reality we were together.” He said softly.

“…oh” you said. That’s why this guy stared at you like you completed his life just by merely existing. “Did we break up or something—“

“You died, Y/n… some girl— uhm… she went nuts and shot off a missile into a council meeting. Killed half the council, my partner got severely injured and… you died.” He muttered.

You blinked “…No offense, really. But if… your reality is really that shit, why are you so eager to go back?” You asked.

“Because before I ended up in this one, I saw what happens when I don’t succeed. I gotta say. It’s bad.” He said. You sighed.

“Why… tell me all this?” You asked.

“Because I know your mind. I know your talent Y/n, if anyone can help me I know it’s you.” He said softly. You stared at him before sighing again and running your fingers through your hair.

“…I mean I don’t even know how to start with time travel.” You admitted.

“I don’t either.” He admitted. “But… I think if we work together we can figure it out.” He said softly. He put his hand over yours that rested on the table and you pulled away. He mentally scolded himself that you didn’t know him in this reality.

“Okay I mean I can try but don’t be disappointed if me in this universe isn’t a damn genius.” You said leaning back in the booth. You seemed to have a lightbulb moment. “But my dad might know.” You added.

Your dad. You never mentioned even in your relationship in his reality who your dad was. He assumed he wasn’t around in his reality.

“Hey! Dad!” You called. Silco looked over.

“Yes kid?” He asked. Jayce froze. Silco? Silco the gods damned inventor was your dad? The man who basically made Vi’s sister into Jinx was your dad? That’s why you never mentioned this?!

“Come here for a sec.” You motioned. He walked from behind the bar and sat down. With zero hesitation you explained everything Jayce had told you. You trusted Silco. You clearly loved your dad too.

“…Well this is… interesting.” He said.

“Yeah. Any idea where to start?” You asked.

“My best educated guess is string theory. You made a major event. You came back here from a major event. So maybe make a major event. Your uh… hex something or other, doesn’t exist in this world, do you know how to make it again?” He asked.

“Yeah..” he admitted.

“Then I’d start there. And maybe try to do what you did to your core in your timeline to that one?” He suggested.

“That’s… solid advice. Thank you silco.” He nodded. The fuck? Silco never said his name..

“Right. Be careful Y/n.” He muttered before getting up.

“Thanks dad.” You nodded. Jayce looked at you. “What?” You asked.

“Your dad is Silco?” He asked quietly.

“Yeah. Why? Was he not in your reality” You asked.

“No he was but… nevermind.” Jayce sighed.

“We can use my dad’s workshop. Plenty of space. Come on.”

You started working. Days Jayce spent close to you, working on calculations and making a hexcore. Many nights he found you sleeping at your desk. And every time his coat would be wrapped around you in the morning when you woke up.

It was strange. A man you swear you had never met loved you so much that you could tell that the closer you got to cracking this, the more he struggled with the idea of losing all you over again.

It had been a week. You walked over to him sitting on the couch with calculations.

“Can I ask you something?” You asked. He looked up and nodded. “…Were we happy?” You asked softly.

His focused gaze cracked to a soft fondness. “We were.” He told you.

“…And even though I don’t really know you… do you still love—“

“Without question.” He said softly. You stared at him in silence. You almost felt sad. To have such a firm romantic love from someone, even if it was from another timeline but not be able to know, to share that feeling with this man that seemed to unconditionally love you…

There was guilt. You thought of throwing him a line, flirt with him. But you didn’t want what you knew were his last memories with you to be a lie. You couldn’t force yourself to love this stranger either.

“Jayce?”

“Mhm?”

“What if we went on a date?” You asked. He seemed shocked by this suggestion. “I mean… you feel this love for me. And judging by the way you mentioned your memories of other me, it was mutual and it… bugs me that I can’t really share that.” You said.

He looked at you like he was happy yet still… sad. “Sure, Y/n. Where would you like to go?” He asked softly. He couldn’t refuse one last lasting memory with you. Not when this wound still felt this fresh.

“Uh… well I dunno. This version of me never went on a date before so..”

“Mm. I can figure it out. Come on.” He said getting up.

“Oh— now?”

“Yeah. I know where we should go. Come on.” He said softly.

So you went. On a date. From that moment on, every night was a date. Spend the day working with this strange little blue glowy ball, then go off to dinner. What was worse? You knew this version of you was going to lose him. But you still fell in love with him anyway.

It was the final night. The last piece had been clicked into place thanks to Ekko and Heimerdinger in the same damn predicament. Heimerdinger insisted he needed to make adjustments. In reality he was giving the boys time to say goodbye.

You sat across from him in your apartment. “So this is it… after tonight you’re going back.” You said softly.

“Yeah… yeah I uhm… I am.” He nodded clearing his throat.

You looked in his eyes “…I didn’t expect this to be hard.”

“For what to be—“

“You leaving.” Jayce went silent. You drew in breath “…after these dates, these… times… I get why I loved you, Jayce.”

He swallowed hard. “Then… let’s treat this night like it really is our last.” He said softly.

You looked over at him “how?”

He pulled you closer to him from the chair you were sitting in. “…Let me love you for one last night.” He said softly. You broke at that. This was your last night. You were losing the only romantic love you have ever known. You had had “situationships” that pretty much were just sex but nothing like this. You had two options. Cry….

Or cherish it.

You kissed him. For the first time you kissed someone. Was this absolutely bizarre? Oh fuck yeah. But you didn’t regret it.

He pulled you even closer, into his lap, holding you like you were the most precious thing in the world to him. He needed you like fucking air right now. One final victory before the bigger fight he knew he’d come back to.

He kissed you, over and over again, his fingers in your hair, his other hand on your back holding you close. You slid off your shirt and his eyes widened.

“Y/n are you sure—“

“I don’t want to think anymore Jayce… I just… I want to feel.” You whispered. So that’s what he did. He kissed your neck, unhooking your bra, cupping your breast in his hand. He rolled your nipple through his fingers and you buried your face in his neck.

“We can back out at any time Y/n—“

“Don’t stop” you breathed out. No. Not breathed. You moaned. Any semblance of control the man may have had flew out the window as he pushed you onto the couch.

Kiss after kiss, hickey after hickey his hand moved lower undoing your pants. He slid his hand past the hem of your panties and you gasped, your hands covering your mouth.

He pulled them away with his freehand. “Let me hear you.” He said in your ear, rubbing circles over your clit. Your eyes fluttered closed, your hands moving to his hair as you took moaning breaths.

“J-Jayce I need—“

“I know baby. I know.” He said pulling off your pants. There you were sprawled out naked under him as he pulled off his belt. He let it hit the floor with a soft clatter and he gently spread your thighs.

“Gods if we had time I’d be worshipping you right now,” he murmured. You kissed him as he lined himself up. With a gasp from you he pushed in and you gripped the couch moaning as he moved. He went the pace he knew you loved. Deep, and fast.

“Oh gods— don’t stop please don’t fucking stop!” You moaned.

“That’s it. Let me hear you.” He whispered in your ear. Gods his voice as he was absolutely railing you was making this very difficult not to finish on the spot. It didn’t help that his fingers found their way back to your clit rubbing circles as he kept going with his thrusts.

In.

Breaths kept mingling

Out.

Kisses and moans filled the room.

Back in.

“I love you”

“I love you too”

Back out.

Your nails dug into his shoulder as he thrusted, your head tilting back. The release hit you both, his face buried in your neck as he panted against you.

After a few minutes he pulled away looking in your eyes. You looked at him with that same warmth. That soft smile. But from both of you it had an underlying sadness. You looked in his eyes before you swallowed hard, looking down.

“…Jayce..?” You murmured

“Yeah?”

“Do you… really have to go?” You mumbled. He sighed softly.

“Believe me. If I didn’t, I would stay right here with you.” He muttered.

“What if I went with you..?” You muttered.

“Baby, I don’t know how that would go… you died in my reality. If I brought you from this one… you might die… again.” He said softly.

You looked sad. “I’m never going to see you again… am I?” You murmured.

“…I don’t know. I will find a way to come back once all this shit in my reality is over.” He murmured. You swallowed hard.

“And if you can’t?” You muttered.

“I will.” He said determined. You looked in his eyes. You could tell he meant it.

“Then let’s get you to that weird little core then.”

[s3niz3ro]

"A little party never hurt no one"

-CollegeAU-S.GOJO-MDNI-

"Not you and me"

CW: Adult language, dacryphilla,overstim, dirty talk, etc

!!AGELESS BLOGS DNI!!

You couldn't possibly fathom even being around with the Satoru Gojo. Afterall, he annoyed you any chance he got. Always told Geto how much of a brat and fragile thing you were. Always had to find some way to get on your nerves. You hated him, and he hated you.

Or at least you thought.

You couldn't even fathom being around Gojo, so why were you on his bed while he's fucking you into it? 3 missed calls from Shoko laid on your phone. You were supposed be having a girls night out with her and Utahime. But yet you were here getting your guts rearranged with the man you said you hated.

The slapping of skin, his grunts, your muffled moans, and the bed creaking were all that filled the room. Your hands gripped onto the bed sheets; his bedsheets. The way the his pink tip hit your cervix just felt so right. The way you squeezed onto him made him feel just the right way.

"Can't-fuck, can't believe i've been missin'out on this pretty pussy." His words were let out lowly as he fucked into you, rolling his hips against your cunt perfectly. "She takes'me so good don't'ya agree?" He had you pressed down, his hand digging into your hip, the other one held firmly on the plush of your thighs holding your legs spread.

You would say something, but your balled up panties were shoved into your mouth; his work of course. "C'mon make noise doll, getting fucked like a slut I wanna hear you." He removes his hand from your hip and tilts your head taking out the panties and tossing them somewhere in the room.

"Ya like the way 'm fuckin'ya so deep?" He moves fast, in a speed you didnt even know was possible. It wasn't just speed but talented. It made your eyes rollback and mouth fall open no words coming out only moans and gasps.

"Doll you look so good from this angle, 'm gonna flip ya' over I wanna see that pretty face while I jfuck ya into oblivion" He laughs lowly and deeply as he grunts softly while fucking into you. In just a few moments he pulls out and flips you over putting you into a position where you facing him and your legs were on his shoulders. Small hairs were stuck onto his face, flushed and breath hot and heavy.

"G-fuck-Gojo please~!" You moaned out.

"Tell me how bad you want it yea?" He teases as he presses his bulging tip against your aching hole. His precum mixing with your slick.

"I want it bad, so f-please- fucking bad. Make me cum please." You hold onto him as his arms are on the sides of you. He lets out a small chuckle.

"Such a slut f'me yea? I wanna watch you cry f'me" He fucks into you once again kissing your neck and leaving bites and marks. He gets rougher, pulling away to see your face. He fucked into you so skillfully, watching you come undone. You felt the tight coil in the pit of your stomach start coming undone.

"Gojo- fuck 'm gonna- ahgn- gonna come~!" Your moans filled his ears and room. It was a symphony to him. The way your body clashed with his, the noises you both made, everything about it.

"Do it, c'mon doll." He grunted out as he watched you come undone, feeling his own release coming. Seeing the tears sprout in your eyes somehow just made him more turned on.

He rolled his hips in the way that fucked you just right. It felt so good, all at once. The whole world didn't matter just his cock fucking so deep and good into you. The coil snapped and your back arched and tears spilled, the moans got increasingly louder. He felt you tighten and then come undone. The spilled out of your cunt, beading around his cock as he still fucked into you.

"Wait-oh fuck! shit oh my god-aghn! Gojo please~!" You held onto him tighter as he still gucked into you. His warm cum mixing inside with your fluids. "I wanna watch this pretty pussy puff up as I fuck into you doll. Those pretty tears~"

It was overstimulating, but damn it felt good.

Maybe it was the right choice to ditch girls night and have a party for two with Satoru Gojo-

[peppermintquartz]

Buck hasn't expected to see Tommy for the past eigt months and so when he opens the door to the persistent knocking, he is literally dumbstruck.

Tommy looks a mess and he smells - reeks - of alcohol. Wrinkling his nose, Buck lets him into the loft and directs him to a chair at the dining table.

"Evan!" Tommy slurs, at a volume that is way too loud. "Mished you. Mist you. Had t'... See you. Because. You're not, not real. Can't be."

"Shush," Buck scolds. He hopes baby Angie won't be roused by Tommy. She's still colicky and it's been a nightmare getting her to sleep. "Tommy, keep your voice down. Let me get you some water and you can sleep it off, okay?"

"Can't sleep! Bad dreams," Tommy confides. He leans forward and almost topples off the chair, if not for Buck's quick reflexes. "Alwayshh... Alone. Alone."

To Buck's confusion, Tommy starts crying. Before he can offer a towel or tissues, another wail starts up upstairs, thin and shrill and demanding.

Buck swears under his breath and runs up the loft to scoop Angie into his arms, rocking her against himself. His back is to the stairs as he jiggles her against his shoulder, and he almost has a heart attack when he sees Tommy at the top of the stairs in the sleeping space.

"Who's... Is that a bababy?"

"She's my baby, yes," Buck says, rubbing a hand over Angie's back as she screams bloody murder. "Hush, darling, daddy's here, it's all good, daddy's here now, we're all good..."

Tommy takes a few steps closer, his eyes wide. "Wh... When?"

"A month ago," Buck tells him, preoccupied with Angie's discomfort. There's nothing he can do but let her cry it out; from experience over the past week, giving her her pacifier will only escalate her crying. "I'm so sorry sweetie, the world is just too big and loud and horrible," Buck says to Angie. She's hiccuping while bawling. "But daddy's here, okay? Daddy's here."

When he looks at Tommy again, he finds the older man seated on the foot of the bed, mouth agape, counting on his fingers. Then he looks at Buck like he's grief-stricken.

"That's our baby!" he whisper-shouts. "Evan, you. You never said. How can you... You were pregnanant and you never said? I put a, a baby in you, I shoulda been... Oh my god. Evan I'm so sorry, you had to, you had t' go through all that alone..." Big fat tears are rolling down Tommy's face. "Daddy... Daddy's here, sweetheart, I'm so sorry, I didn't know-"

If not for his colicky baby girl, Evan would have found this misunderstanding hilarious. Her dark curls and dark blue eyes do bear a passing resemblance to Tommy, after all. Instead, he is just exhausted. "Tommy, she's not your child."

Tommy scoffs. "Y-you would never have cheated on me, you're too... Too good to do that," he drawls.

"Tommy, she can't possibly be your child-"

"-and I know we... I remember fucking you bare, you wanted, wanted it. Musta knocked you up then." He looks down at his crotch. "Wow. Good job."

Buck rolls his eyes and jiggled Angie. "I do not have the energy for this," he tells Tommy. "Take off your clothes and lie down, I'm gonna take her downstairs and see if I can walk her to sleep again."

"Lemme do that," Tommy begs.

"No, I'm not risking you losing your footing and breaking my baby's neck," Buck snaps. He pats Angie on the back and croons at her, but she only keeps crying. Buck glares at Tommy. "Take off your clothes, lie down and try to sleep. I'll explain in the morning."

"Please can I just. Hold her. Here?" Tommy holds out his arms.

Buck is not willing to relinquish Angie, even if she's a screaming, screeching demon right now. He turns her around to face Tommy, holding her carefully, Iike she is an armful of feathers that would scatter with the wind.

"You may hold her hand," Buck allows. "Tomorrow, when you're sober, I'll let you carry her."

Angie is still crying when Tommy takes her little right hand with his fingers. But the touch surprises her enough that she gulps in air and for a few blessed seconds, she is quiet.

"My baby," Tommy whispers, sounding awestruck.

Buck sighs but he can't help smiling, even when Angie's wayward hand smacks him on the side of his head. It's going to be funny in the morning. He hopes Tommy will want to be in Angie's life even when he finds out he didn't impregnate Buck.

Tommy deserves to have someone to love unconditionally.

Someone should write crack fic where Buck adopted save haven baby 9 months after break up and some months after he meets drunk Tommy, who looks at baby and like: WHY HAD YOU NOT TOLD ME YOU WERE PREGNANT?!!?!!? EVAN! WE HAVE A KID AND YOU DIDN'T TELL ME?!??!

Plot twist: baby actually looks as if they are bucktommy kid, but mostly mini Tommy

[trippiexlove]

Serendipity

Ch.1 - story master list

Druitt POV

"Here's your winner .... AND STILL WWE WOMENS WORLD CHAMPION .... RHYAN SIMONEEE" 

I stood up, breathing hard, as the ref handed me my title. I held it up as the ref held one of my hands up. I went to celebrate by going on the top rope as the crowd cheered me on, and the pyros went off. 

I rolled out the ring and made it backstage to gorilla, where I met a smiling Triple H.

"You did amazing tonight Rhyan! Proving why you are still champion"

I smiled and gave Triple H a hug. 

"Thanks Paul, I really appreciate it!" 

I turned and looked at my opponent tonight, Becky Lynch 

"Congrats kid, you are one hell of a fighter" 

"Thank you Becky, we put on a bad ass show, definitely going to be talked about years from now" 

"I have no doubts" she smiled as she gave me a pat on my shoulder, leaving gorilla. 

I soon followed suit, heading to the locker room taking a quick shower and changing into something comfortable. As I was walking out I met up with one of my best friends, Bianca Belair. 

"Hey girl, congrats on the match tonight. Y'all had me out my damn seat!" 

"Thanks boo, Becky is always a joy to work with. I will say she put a beating on me" we both laughed as we walked to our shared rental car. 

"Girl don't I know it, after our match at SummerSlam I had to get Tez to give me a full body massage, and you know what happened next" I gave her a look as she did a little twerk. 

"See now you didn't even need to say all that" I shook my head as we started to put our bags in the car. I heard the stage door open and close in the distance and turned to look. Only to see the newest member of the Monday Night Raw roster.......

Jey Uso 

I guess I must of been staring for too long, when Bianca snapped her fingers in my face.  "You said something?"

"I said you just going to stare at him?" 

"Oh please, nobody staring at a that man" 

"I could introduce you guys" 

"No don-" but before I could interject, she had already called him over. 

"What's up uce" 

"Hey Jey! How has transitioning to Raw been going ?" 

"It's been pretty chill, nice to see some familiar and new faces" 

"Speaking of new faces, Rhyan meet Jey, Jey meet Rhyan" 

"It's nice to meet you" I smiled at him.

"It's nice to meet you too, the pleasure is all mine" he smiled back, showing his bottom row of grills.

God was this man fine.

"I got to go, Sami waiting on me so I'll see you around sis" 

He gave Bianca a quick hug then turned to me, taking a hand and shaking it slightly. 

"It was nice meeting you Miss Rhyan" 

"Nice meeting you too Jey" 

His stare linger a little, then he turned and walked away. 

Once we were alone I turned and caught Bianca staring at me with a mischievous smirk. 

"No Bianca, don't even think about it" 

"Y'all would be so cute together" 

I simply ignored her and got in the driver seat.

"Come on before I leave your ass" 

"I am coming geez!" 

The drive to the hotel was short, luckily we checked in earlier so all we had to do was go straight to our room. 

I was extremely tired, so I did my night routine and went straight to bed. Before I knew it, I was fast sleep.

~The Next Morning~

I was woken up by not only Bianca loud singing in the bathroom, but by the sun shining in through the curtains. 

"Bianca! do you have to be so loud" I covered my ears with the extra pillow, letting out a loud groan.

Bianca soon appeared out the bathroom, with her toothbrush in her sticking out her mouth. 

"Sorry sis, good morning!" 

I leaned over and grabbed my phone, checking for any messages from creative. But one notification stuck out to me.

uceyjucey started following you.

uceyjucey sent you a message.

I sat straight up in bed. Nervous to open the message. Why the hell am I nervous to open this message?

"What got you shook sis?"

"Jey just followed me, and he sent me a message"

"you better follow him back, what did he say?"

"I don't know, I am nervous to open the message"

"Girl, uh uh! Open the damn message before I do"

"You're right I don't want that to happen, who knows what you would say"

Bianca gave me look, as I laughed at her. I clicked on the notification and opened the message.

"It was great meeting you last night, meant to say congrats on the win the match was 🔥"

"what did he say?"

"He said it was great meeting me, congrats on my win and that my match was great"

"seems to me you got a new fan" I rolled my eyes at her teasing. 

I decided to also follow and message him back. 

Jey POV

"Come on Jey push through it!" Sami screamed at me.

I did one last before putting the bar back on the rack. 

"That was a good set Uce"

"Yeet!" 

I grabbed my towel and wiped my face, sitting down on the ground by my phone.

rhyansimone started following you.

rhyansimone liked a message you sent.

rhyansimone sent you a message. 

"Thank you! It was nice meeting you as well, always been a big fan of you and your family" 

I smirked at that last comment of hers. 

"who got you blushing uce?"

"Man ain't nobody got me blushing, I am just talking to Rhyan"

"Rhyan? Like Rhyan Simone?"

"Yes man, we met last night after the show I just hit her up and she just messaged me back"

"oooh is somebody crushing on our women's world champion?"

"I ain't gon lie uce, she fire!"

"then do what you do best uce" 

"Yeet!" 

I gathered all my stuff, deciding to take a shower at the hotel before catching a flight back home. Once I was done showering, I sent her a text back.

" I appreciate that ma, I'm a fan of yours as well, your skills in the ring is unmatched"

"that means a lot ☺️, you be doing your thing in the ring to"

"well you know I got to put on a show especially if you watching 😏"

"oh please, you gon do that anyways🙄😂. I do be entertained though" 

"I guess I got some new motivation now, what you got going on today?" 

"I am packing right now, then I will be flying home to Orlando, what about you?"

"I'm flying home today to, going to Atlanta"

"I'm from Atlanta, I come back and visit all the time"

"The next time you come down come visit me"

"I will keep that in mind, here's my number I am about leave for my flight"

"Yeet, have safe flight Miss Rhyan" 

"You have a safe flight to Jey" 

I grabbed all my stuff, making sure I had everything. I checked out my room and got into the uber taking me to the airport. 

Once at the airport, I quickly checked in on time as the plane was starting to board. I took my seat, putting on my headphones, closing my eyes to rest. 

~2 hrs later~

After two hours on the flight, we finally made it to Atlanta. I made my way quickly through the airport, to get to my car. Once I got to my car, I threw my bags in and quickly got in starting the car and pulling out. 

As soon as I got home, I put my bags by the laundry room. I will get to my clothes later. 

I decided to send a quick text Rhyan, making sure she made it home safely. 

Miss Rhyan ❤️

"Hey beautiful, just checking in, this Jey by the way. I just made it home"

"Hey! glad you made it safely, I just made it home as well"

We talked for a few moments until we called it a night. 

Man was this girl giving me butterflies already.

I was really nervous on bringing my story over to a new platform. I hope you enjoyed the first chapter!

tag list:

@xbriexx , @mindairy , @tribalchief2112