#Roll Winding Machine

[solradguy]

Back in 2005 east coast USA Guilty Gear fans had unimaginable beef with west coast GG fans. This was because a large majority of scans, translations, and guides were written by east coast fans and the west coast fans would always repost them without credit. They were also a little jaded that the west coast would get all the cool official tournaments/conventions while the east coast got lake effect snow

However, the beef was one-sided because the west coast fans seemingly did not notice how mad the east coast fans were because neither side ventured out of their very small niche forums that always died after 3 years

Then there were the humble Alaskans putting the first rips of PS2 Guilty Gear game assets online by plugging their Playstations directly into their Macs and pulling off some crazy wizard shit

[adinathinternationalindia]

Automatic Label Roll Winding and Counting Machine

Automatic Label Roll Winding and Counting Machine is quite useful for label roll counting and printing of various data such as batch no., date, and price etc. by using inkjet coding or any other non-contact coding provided by the packager. It is a useful machine that with an in-built sensor and electronic counter that can be used for label counting. The machine also features a robust A.C variable drive system for proper speed control. Whether it is pouch film counting or any other packaging material, this stainless steel construction comprising machine utilizes variable speeds for 400 mm size label spool.

Automatic Label Roll Winding and Counting Machine is almost maintenance free and performs at its best even with the basic maintenance. It is easy to use and labeling becomes a cake-walk. Also, it has an in-built self-protection system to safeguard the machine against voltage fluctuations. You can achieve high speed rolling with 45 measures per minute. This one of its kind machine is very commonly used across various industries for labeling purposes.

For more information related to automatic label roll winding and counting machines, feel free to get in touch with team Adinath International today.

[whereisthedamndaddymanual]

Just seeing you kinda look up. That night gown or robe. Mmmm. I feel like I am at the foot of the stage.

Using TV for background noise (weird concept)

Mmm morning paper trips

Well I've been up this long....

Let me blast you with this pure sound then

That intersection of sound and light

A Scorpio on my tail.

A wives hand for a few

Ouija

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

some things are worth it

a/n: so, because i haven’t been able to stop thinking about this guy, especially in this au (literally had multiple dreams about him this past week) i rewatched the longest ride for the yeehaw vibes and this fantasy popped into my head.

summary: “oh, yes you do,” you tilted your head, “you flirt with me all the time, I know you do, I’m not some sheltered little virgin, I know what it looks like when someone likes me!” you felt the truck roll to a stop as you spoke. 

warnings: farmhand!tyler owens x farmer’s daughter!reader, smut, farmer au, bull rider!tyler, takes place before the previous fic in this au, secret relationship, bull riding (except i'm a suropean who has no idea what she's talking about, so apologies for the errors), love confession, secret relationship, kissing, clothed sex, car sex, size kink, manhandling, dry humping, dirty talk, handjob, fingering, thighjob, pussyjob, just the tip, overstimulation, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie, why do i keep writing for this dude in the middle of the night?

word count: 4238

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

masterlist | join my taglist

“Hey,” Tyler cast you a glance as you came bouncing towards where he still worked, tinkering with the tractor that had quit halfway down one of the farm’s golden fields. 

“Hello,” you blinked down at him. A rusty toolbox was planted in the wheat by his kneeling form as he fiddled away at the machinery.

“You need help with something?” he kept on twisting a bolt. 

“Oh, no,” a shy giggle bubbled out of you, “my mom just sent me down here to invite you to stay for dinner tonight. She made a pie for dessert and everything, or well, we did, I helped… it’s rhubarb, if that can help sway you.”

“Rhubarb, eh?” he puffed out a short chuckle. 

“Yeah…”

Briefly glancing back over his shoulder at you and the way your flowy dress caught on the wind, he uttered, “I’d love to, Y/n, but–, uhm… I can’t tonight.”

“Right,” you exhaled, a nod swiftly accompanying your words, “you already have plans, of course…”

“Tell your mamma I’m sorry,” he tried to soften the blow, “next time, yeah?”

“Yeah…” you breathed, and as he returned his attention back to the machine, surely assuming that you’d bid him adieu and saunter back towards the main house, you instead shifted to lean against the tractor, “so… what are you doing tonight?”

Briefly glancing up at you, a soft smirk appeared on his lips as he purred, “you’re awfully nosy.” 

“Just tell me what your plans are,” you rolled your eyes. 

“Bull riding,” he informed you, “I ride on occasion, tonight being one of those times.”

Sucking in a breath, you uttered, “of course you do…”

Halting his tinkering with a chuckle, he pressed, “what’s that supposed to mean?”

“No, you just got adrenalin junky written all over you, so it checks out,” you gestured towards him and he let out a small laugh, retroactively confirming your accusation. As he shifted to look for a different tool, you opened your mouth once more and asked, “can I come?”

“Come what?” his concentrated gaze didn’t meet yours. 

“See you ride.”

Tyler’s eyes then snapped up to find yours, “you wanna come see me ride?” hesitation suddenly washed over his usually confident features, “uhm… I’m not sure your daddy would like that.”

“What? Me being around a bunch of rowdy and probably drunk strangers or going somewhere to see you?”

A warm chuckle then rumbled in his chest as a gentle shake found his head, “you’re trouble…”

“Is that a no?” you tilted your head in hope. 

“No…” he slowly exhaled and met your eye once more, “no it is not.”

You cheered for him at first when his name was announced and you caught a glimpse of him behind the fence, he even found your eyes in the crowd a moment as you clapped in anticipation. But then when it actually began, you stopped breathing entirely. It didn’t matter that he only had to stay on the beast for a few seconds, your heart still wouldn’t start beating again even after his boots were back on the ground and a proud grin stretched his lips. The petrified expression plastered on your features didn’t fade even when he found you afterwards and offered you a ride back home.

“You okay?” his deep timbre ripped you out of your stormy thoughts. 

Twisting your neck to blink over at him behind the wheel of his truck, you hummed, “huh?”

“You’re not usually this quiet,” he pointed out. 

“Oh… I’m just tired, I guess…” you lied, averting your gaze before you then heard yourself utter, “hey, can I ask you something?”

“Shoot,” he held his eyes on the road. 

“How is it that you haven’t been hurt yet doing all of that?”

“Oh no, I have,” a soft chuckle bubbled out of the daredevil, “just not hard enough to stop me from getting back up.” 

A murmur then escaped your lips, just beneath your breath, “either that or you’re just too determined for your own good…”

“Maybe,” he cast you a glance and smirked slightly at the embarrassment that washed over your features at the realisation that he’d heard you, “but then again, determination isn’t always a bad quality to have.”

“It is if it could get you killed.” 

“Oh, how unromantic of you,” he puffed, “I could think of a handful of ways dying would be worth whatever goal you were going for,” his eyes momentarily flickered back to you in the passenger seat beside him. 

Holding his gaze a second before he redirected it back upon the dark road, you felt goosebumps tingle your flesh. 

“Hey Tyler?” you breathed, unsure if you were able to stop the words about to flow out your mouth. 

“Yeah?”

“Are you ever actually gonna do anything?” your vulnerable question was barely audible. 

Not yet catching onto your subtext, he inquired, “about what?” 

Staring over at him, you uttered, “me.”

His eyes immediately fluttered back to find yours, gazing back at you a second before it faltered, “I–… I don’t know what you mean...”

“Oh, yes you do,” you tilted your head, “you flirt with me all the time, I know you do, I’m not some sheltered little virgin, I know what it looks like when someone likes me!” you felt the truck roll to a stop as you spoke. 

His firm grip stayed on the wheel long after the car had halted.

“Y/n, I–…” he tried, though gave up in a soft sigh. 

As he refused to meet your stare, you felt your stomach begin to flip.

“Oh…” you then breathed, blinking down at your hands as they fiddled with the fabric of the sundress that you wore, “unless I apparently don’t, I–… you know what? Forget it, I’m sorry,” your eyes squeezed shut at the mortification, “let’s just go back to the farm and pretend I didn’t say anything…”

Though his grip didn’t shift away from the wheel, didn’t drift down to twist the key and restart the engine. Instead, to your surprise, you saw him in your periphery twist towards you before you felt his hands come up to cup the sides of your face and pluck it out of hiding. 

Pulling you towards him, he then pressed his lips to your own, rendering you reeling to claw your way out of the stunned pit his bold actions had cast you into. 

As one of your palms slowly floated up to rest against the back of one of his, a soft sigh flowed from your form as you melted into his warmth. 

However, before you sank in and lost yourself completely, you felt him withdraw, though still remained close, letting his nose ghost against your own as he exhaled, “this is a really bad idea… we shouldn’t… I can’t afford to lose my job.” 

“Why would you think you’d lose it?” your fingers curled around the back of his hand in a plea to keep his touch glued to your heated cheek. 

“Have you met your father?” he scoffed softly, “I should be grateful if he only fires me and doesn’t outright kill me.” 

“He wouldn’t do that.” 

“You sure about that?” Tyler half-joked before slowly retracting even further. 

Blinking back at him, your lips still tingled from his kiss as you quietly said, “…I thought you were the one who just insisted that some things are worth dying for… I guess you just have to decide whether or not I could be worth that kind of risk…” 

A gentle chuckle then bubbled out of him as he gazed back at you in amazement, “you sound like a fair maiden 500 years ago,” twisting his fingers and tangling them in your own.  

Puffing out a laugh of your own, you defended, “well you started it!” before you felt one of his palms slide to the nape of your neck and tug you back in for another kiss. His lips felt like fire, though the slow smouldering kind that licked you up and ignited your entire soul, “if you don’t think it’s worth it,” you breathlessly uttered against his kiss, “then you should probably stop kissing me like that…” 

As a gentle smirk tugged at his mouth, he answered you not in the form of words, but instead drifted his hands down your frame and scooped you closer, plucking you up and lifting you into his lap, wasting no time at all to claim your lips again.

It didn’t take long after you settled above him, the wheel of the truck poking the lower part of your spine, that the slow peck evolved into something more, something else. Something that had muffled whines crawling up from the depth of your lungs and vibrating against his tongue as yours desperately danced against his own. Something that had you rolling your hips and grinding down against the hardness poking your panties so perfectly beneath the billowy fabric of your dress, the material of which had begun to ride up as Tyler’s wild touch began to wander over the curves of your frame. 

Panting into his mouth, your head started to lull slightly as you rocked down against him, the sensation being nearly too much to stand in the way it was both overwhelming yet also not at all enough. Nevertheless, if he gave you the chance, you’d surely be able to cum just like this if he let you, if he told you to desperately rut against him like some animal in heat, then you would, because that was just the effect he seemed to have on you. He was always able to turn your brain off with but a glance and nearly cause you to faint if he ever flashed you a dazzling smile. 

To say you had it bad was the understatement of the century, but evidently, and thankfully, you weren’t alone in the predicament. 

Snaking a hand down in the non-existent space between your frames, you found the bulky buckle of his belt and began to undo it. 

“Please,” you panted, your tone sounding downright pathetic, “I wanna–, can I touch you?”

And before you could fumble to do it, Tyler didn’t hesitate to undo his jeans and seize your hand, stuffing it into his pants and guiding your fingers to engulf his girth, squeezing them lightly around himself for but a moment before his touch then faded and he left you to your own devices.

“Oh, fuck–,” he growled, his hot breath fanning against your skin, “just like that.”

His cock throbbed in your palm as he kissed you once again and let his wide hands raked down to your ass, kneading your softness as he groaned against your lips.

But he didn’t let your zealous touch stretch out for that long before you heard him crack the door directly to his left open. His grip on your bottom locked securely as he got out of the truck, effortlessly carrying you with him as he made his way around towards the back.

His hold on you stayed fast as he flipped open the bed of the truck and plopped you down on the ledge. A soft giggle bubbled out of you, even as your hands came up to cup his jaw and he slotted himself in between your parted thighs. 

“Shit…” he exhaled as his gaze fluttered down to spot the damp spot decorating your underwear, neatly on show as your sundress had ridden up even further. Your legs dangled slightly off the edge as his touch then reached down to trace the mark of desperation, your bottom lip swiftly getting trapped betwixt your teeth as he rubbed you through the soaked cotton, “guess you really do have a thing for me, sweetheart,” his teasing touch traced your core as the sodden fabric clung to you, “I mean, not that I didn’t already have my suspensions…” 

“You knew?”

“You’re not exactly subtle when it comes to these things,” he chuckled before letting his fingers dip into your waistband, “it’s cute,” he smiled as your eyes fluttered when his digits swept through your folds, scooping back up to your puffy pearl as it buzzed beneath his caress, “I always enjoyed all the random little reasons you came up with just to have an excuse to talk to me.”

“Okay, I know they weren’t always that smooth,” an embarrassed heat sparked in your cheeks, “but it’s a lot harder than you’d think it is.”

“Oh, I know,” he stated casually, grinning at the way your eyes suddenly grew, “what? Did you really think I just happened to always have some work in the barn whenever you went for a ride?” one of his long fingers then eased into you, causing your mouth to fall open in a silent gasp. 

“Wait, seriously?”

“And the time I needed your help learning the system in the tool shed?” another one of his digits found its way inside of your cunt, rendering you a panting mess in his grasp as he leisurely pumped his fingers in and out, stretching you till your pussy sang out for him, “I already knew where everything was.”

The reply that was ready on your tongue swiftly fizzled out and became a forgotten relic as his touch then dissipated and instead floated down to where his jeans were already half undone. Tugging it the rest of the way open, he then stuffed his hand inside and freed his cock. Like a moth to a flame, your eyes couldn’t help but stare, yearning as you watched his cock throb in his tight fist. 

“O-oh, fuck…” the curse flowed out your lungs as your gaze stayed glued, nearly drooling as he suddenly hooked his grasp behind one of your legs and yanked you closer, causing you to tumble back onto your forearms as he manoeuvred your core that much closer to him. Hooking his fingers in the material of your panties, he slid them down your legs and, to your amazement, stuffed them into his pocket. As he then began to tap the hefty weight of his length down against your puffy petals, causing glossy strings of your desire to cling onto him and keep you ethereally attached, your eyes snapped back up to find his and the same whimper left your body once again, “oh, f-fuck…”

Trailing the bulbous tip through your wetness, he teasingly nudged the head against your swollen clit fiercely enough to make your whole frame twitch beneath him. 

“God… you feel so good…” he groaned, staring down at how his fat cock slid through and parted your glistening folds.

“Uh, Tyler–,” you begged hazily, your little hole winking every time he denied it any attention, “p-please–”

“What is it, baby?” he cooed smugly, “you want me to fuck you?”

“Uh-huh,” you nodded foggily, your gaze flickering back down to watch his teasing. 

“You wanna know what my cock feels like inside your pretty little pussy, huh?” his touch then dented your thighs, pressing both of your legs together, enclosing them around his girth and resting your ankles atop one of his broad shoulders. 

“P-please–”

“Is it all you’ve been thinking about?” the softness of your thighs interlocked around him lend him to snap his hips against yours and freely fuck your folds, the underside of him sliding against the seem of your cunt, “what’s been occupying that brilliant brain of yours?” he smirked and you couldn’t help but rock back against his efforts, “because it’s all I’ve been thinking about… how warm you must feel around me, how tight, how fucking wet, how–, fuck!” he then moaned as the way you’d needily tilted your hips up towards him lend his length to accidentally catch your leaking hole and sink in just the slightest bit till he halted his movements.

A shuttering gasp escaped you as well at the sensation as he’d nearly caused tears to roll down your cheeks from how badly you wanted him. 

As he caught your eye, his grip digging into your legs in order to hold on to his last strand of self-control, you panted up at him just as he was about to pull back out, “don’t stop.”

Staring down at you, absorbing your every reaction, he slid the tip back out, but so painstakingly slow that it caused your eyes to roll in your skull. 

“But what if I did though? What if I just stopped, right here, right now? Just drove you back to the farm and left you a needy little puddle just like this?”

“No, don’t stop! Don’t–, I–…” your walls clung around his girth, “please just keep going, it can just be the tip, I just–, don’t stop…”

When just the memory of him kissed your entrance, he gently sank back in and stuffed the bulbous head inside your cunt, “you sure you just want the tip?” he slowly found a pattern, fucking you with just the essence of him, “you sure you don’t wanna feel me so deep inside of you that you won’t be able to walk afterwards? That you’ll still be able to feel what we did for days and days?”

Blinking up at him, your legs trembling against his chest, you breathed, “I–…” till your dizzy head began to rock in a nod. 

“Yeah?” he cocked his head and flashed you a smug smile, “then beg for it.”

“Please fuck me–”

“What was that?”

“F-fuck me–”

“What, like I am right now?” he rolled his hips to just shyly plug you up. 

“No, fuck me for real,” your words felt not your own as they desperately flowed out of you, “fuck me exactly like you’ve been dreaming of since we first met, since you first–, ah!” all of the air was then forced out of your lungs as he slammed the remainder of himself all the way inside, stretching you wide of him and letting the tip, the very part of him that had been driving you mad, kiss the deepest part of you and cause your eyes to flutter shut. 

Your knees bent and crumbled down to curl up beside your chest as he meticulously slid halfway out, only to jam his dick back inside. 

He was practically growling above you, sinful grunts rhythmically flowing from his lips at every one of his frantic thrusts.

“Oh my god,” you cried beneath him as your cunt swiftly began to flutter around him, “you f-feel so–, so–, g-good!”

“Oh yeah?” he smirked and then perceptively asked, “are you gonna cum?” leaning down over you as he kept up his efforts. 

You tried to offer him an answer, but in the blissful abyss he’d cast you down in, you could only nod and squeeze your eyes further shut. 

“Then look at me, baby,” you sensed his fingers curl around your cheek, his reach dipping into your hairline, “be a good girl and look at me when you cum around my cock,” and when you managed to force your hazy eyes to blink back open, he stared back down at you as your cunt clenched down around him so fiercely that you nearly forced his girth out entirely, “there you go, fuck…”

But as your high began to melt away into sensitivity, the blonde farmhand didn’t slow his efforts in the slightest, moaning above you as he also was too close to cum to simply stop.

“Tyler, it’s too–,” you whimpered, your thighs shaking on either side of his frame as the creamy aftermath of your orgasm created a ring around the base of his cock and aided his erratic efforts, lending the entirety of his length to plunge back into you with such ease, even as your walls quaked and squeezed tightly around him. 

“Shh, you can take it,” he uttered hazily, “fucking take it, fucking–, ahh!” his hips then shuttered as he tumbled over the edge and pumped you full of his hot load. 

When Tyler one day had an errand to run, some thingy he had to pick up at a neighbouring farm, you hadn’t really paid attention to that part, you had kinda just stopped listening after the discovery that you would get to tag along simply because the neighbour knew you better than him. 

So, once you were both waiting on the ground for the farmer to return with the item, just a curious look to make the time pass by morphed into the pair of you full-on wandering around and being more nosy than what was good for you. 

Though the snooping halted once you pushed open the door to the westernmost barn and discovered a DIY contraption that tickled Tyler’s nostalgia. 

It was a tin barrel, strung up with ropes and tied to a few beams, though he still had to open his mouth for you to fully understand how it was a homemade training tool for when you first began learning how to ride a bull.

By then, some of the fear you’d felt the night you had watched him ride had overflowed and spilt out, which surely also was the reason behind why he suddenly insisted on you hopping on and letting him try to teach the terror out of you. 

“So, like that?” you asked, one of your hands hovering above the one you clutched around the makeshift loop tied around the uppermost quadrant of the barrel you straddled. 

“Almost, you’re only allowed to hold on with the one hand,” he pointed out and you swiftly adjusted, raising your left hand up high just as you remembered he’d done, “yeah, there you go.”

“So, just eight seconds like this?” your thighs squeezed around the drum as Tyler gently tugged on one of the ropes, only making you sway slightly. 

“Yeah,” he nodded as you glanced over at him, “and then there are other things that can get you more points, like how well you hold your balance and if you’re able to control the bull or not, those kinds of things.” 

He then caught you off guard by pulling on the rope a little rougher and offering you a much harsher and more realistic buck of the barrel, though, to your shock, you reacted to it surprisingly well, clenching your thighs and tightening your grip. 

“Atta girl,” he grinned at the startled chuckle that bubbled out of you, “see? It’s not so scary. You’re a natural.”

“Or maybe you’re just going easy on me…” you pointed out, reflecting on how the love you’d had for riding horses since a very young age surely kicked in and aided you in this skill as well. 

“You’re doing great,” he stated, his stare staying glued to how your body and hips swayed borderline sensually to the rhythm he kept up, “relax, give in to the movements more.” 

“How?”

“Just–…” he sucked in a breath, “pretend that you’re on something else…” a sly smirk then spread across his features before he uttered, “pretend that it’s me you’re riding.”

You then promptly felt heat begin to rise in your cheeks, as it became impossible to keep up your concentration on the task at hand and swiftly heard yourself shriek, “oh my god, Tyler Owens!”

Letting go of the rope, he stepped closer to you and enjoyed your flustered visage, “or better yet, maybe I should just let you hop on and teach you that way,” he let his palm slide up your leg as he came to stand beside you. 

“You’re ridiculous!” you laughed.

Snaking his hands around your waist, he then effortlessly lifted you back down onto the ground and uttered, “you love it.”

As you felt his breath fan across your features, your giggle got caught in your throat and faded away as you gazed back at him. 

“Yeah, I think I might…” you then whispered before he crashed his lips against yours. 

His boots then began to shuffle as yours did as well, letting him shift you till your spine collided with the gate to one of the empty stalls in the dusty barn. Pushing you up against it as he ravenously kissed you, one of his wide palms then swooped up from his fast hold on your waist to caress the soft peak of your boob through the thin layer of your tanktop. 

A breathy moan couldn’t help but slip up from your lungs when his kisses then faded from your lips and began to dance down the side of your neck. 

“Okay, easy there, tiger,” you caught his head in your hands as his sloppy pecks fluttered against your rapid pulse, “we can’t do anything here.”

“Oh yeah?” he cocked an eyebrow as he peeked up at you, “is that a dare?”

“No,” you chuckled, then reminded him of your neighbour, “he’ll be back any second.”

A groan then seeped through his grin before he pushed himself off of you, “fine…” yet still held his burly arms stretched out and fast on either side of you, supporting his weight against the half wall behind you and doing his very best to stop himself from diving back in.

But then you slowly let yourself float back into his space, “hey,” and tilted your chin to catch his gaze, “I said not here, not that we shouldn’t give it a try…”

© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble

[gravegoer]

Hiii! English is not my first language so please forgive any mistakes. Could you do an imagine of Sevika where the reader and her have been together for a long time, and the reader almost dies in battle? (Like, she got shot in a place that bleeds a lot, which makes Sevika super worried) And she makes a little confession to the reader? Saying that she can't lose her and stuff like that. Sorry for the long request, it's my first time ordering 😭😭 Thanks anyway 🩷🤍🩷

Wont lose you ʚɞ

thank you for the request,! it was a bit rushed but I like it anyways let me know if you do :)

masterlist!!

Silco sent you on an important mission, taking down this factory all relied on you. Sevika had insisted on being by your side the entire time, but her request was denied.

Her and two other goons sat on the sidelines to make sure you could get in and out without being seen. No fight. No problem.

Why did she have to get stuck with these guys? She would have been better off down there helping you.

She sat outside the doube doors, one of the men lit a cigarillo for her. All was going according to plan so far.

You had gotten in and deactivated some machines. Now you needed to get out.

Sevika, your long time girlfriend was worried. Despite not wanting to admit it you could tell by the look on her face before you crossed the threshold to the factory.

You chuckled to yourself, thinking of how she patted your back on the way in as encouragement.

But you were confident you could carry this out without a hitch.

What you didn't know is there weren't just guards on the outside.

Your footsteps echoed throughout the seemingly empty factory. All you had to do was pour gasoline around the inside perimeter and on the machines and strike a match. It's not that hard.

You were bent over a machine, checking out the parts and gears before you feel a sharp pain of a blunt object on your back. Turning around you instinctively grab it.

A tall, lanky woman stood towering over you. Before she could pull it from your grasp, you kicked her in the stomach. She stumbled backward with a grut. When you dropped the bat, you were met with another thwack to your head.

You let out a muffled cry, biting your lip. You heard the woosh of an object and half-ducked-half-fell. An ambush. How mature. Another metal bat slammed into the ground beside your head. A broad figure stood over you, moving to hit you again. You rolled to the left but not without getting a swift kick to the stomach.

"Urgh." The wind was knocked out of your lungs. But you had no time to hesitate, jumping to your feet and blocking the next strike of the bat with your forearm.

You grabbed it and pulled it forward, bringing the weilder with it. Letting go with one hand, you slam your fist into their throat. The woman from before came back around, picking up her bat again. You met her metal bat with the one in your hands.

It's okay. You could win. The mission was still going according to plan. Two people with bats you could easily take on. You heard a familiar cocking behind your head.

"Drop it"

Fuck.

You didn't.

Instead, you turned to deliver a high kick to their head. But they managed to pull the trigger faster than you could land it.

Bang

You let out a shrill cry and clutched your side. Blood seeped through your fingers and stained your shirt.

"I told you to drop it," Their deep voice hissed.

You could hear three people rushing into the factory, footsteps echoing throughout the establishment. The person that shot you turned their attention to your team. The trigger happy idiot immediately started firing.

Bullets ricochet against the metal. Sometime amidst the chaos, you started to lose consciousness. Black spots littered your vision, and you finally dropped to your knees. A figure bent over you, yelling incoherent things. She jad a hand on your back, gripping your shirt between clammy fingers.

Looking up, you saw Sevikas distressed expression. Sweat dripped down her forehead, and there was a worried crease between her brows. She was shouting things you couldn't quite make out. Maybe something like "We need to leave" or "We are lighting it up." Maybe both.

She grabbed your legs, hand still on your back and hoisted you into her arms. You could feel her warm arm on your upper back and the hardness of her prosthetic against the back of your legs.

In your groggy state you looked up to Sevika, her teeth gritted as she ran throughout the factory with heavy steps. You could hear an explosion come from far behind you.

A ringing in your ears.

She looked down at you.

Then you passed out.

What seemed to be a few hours later, you groggly awoke. Light seeped into your vision and you attempted to get up. "Fuck," A sharp pain shot through your side.

Oh, right. You got shot.

You looked down to where you now held your side, but instead of blood like how you expected, there are sterile bandages. They wrapped around your now mostly bare torso.

Looking around the room, it seemed familiar to you. Right before you could put your finger on it your girlfriend came walking into the room, holding a glass of water.

Her eyes shot wide open, and she started walking a little faster towards your bedside. "Sweetheart, are you okay?"

You laughed at her suprise, "Yeah. Now that you're here"

Your voice was raspy and dry. You reached out for the water in her hand. She instead pushed your hand down and brought the cup up to your lips herself.

"I thought I'd lost you," She sighs in releif.

You took big gulps of water. She had just finished smoking. You could smell it on her hands. You pulled your lips away from the cup and she brought a thumb to your mouth to wipe away stray water droplets.

It was your turn to ask, "Are you okay?"

She let out a dry laugh, "You're the one sitting in bandages in my bed, and you're asking if Im okay?"

She brings her larger hand to your arm, rubbing circles into your skin. Her rough calloused hands brought some comfort to you.

"Im sorry I let that happen. I shouldn't have let you go in there alone. Silco was wrong," She grumbled, clutching her temples.

"Hey, I can do things by myself. It was an unfair attack." You chimed in.

"I don't care. I dont know what i would do if i lost you in there," She spoke firmly.

Her lips were pursed into a straight line. Trying to calm that tension you reached up to grab her face, bringing her lips to yours.

Her lips chased yours when you pulled away. Hissing as you grabbed your side again. "Shit, do i need to change your bandages?" She got up, already heading for the cabinets.

You were usually the one to dress her wounds, not the other way around. "Aww, you bandaged me up?" You cooed.

"Shut up"

[sinstae]

Sweet Dreams ☁️

Pairings | L&DS!Sylus , L&DS!Zayne , x fem. reader

Genre | ☁️ fluff, 💋 smut

Word Count | 2.7k

Warnings | ⚠️ minors DNI ⚠️ , smut smut SMUT, established relationship, Zylus, poly, throuple, Dom!Sylus, Dom!Zayne, pet names, size difference, Sylus teasing 😩, use of Evol, manhandling, stressed!Zayne, voyeurism, male & fem. oral, masturbation, rough sex, squint for face fucking, creampie, bigdick!Sylus, needy!Zayne, aftercare, cute couple 🤧

🔖 m.list♡

🌄 ; Till Dawn♡

a/n ; I hate being sick, this SUCKS. Thank you everyone who participated in the poll! I will be doing more of those to gauge what my audience likes so yeah please feel free to leave feedback via comments/asks, I strive to improve each time! Thank you again & hope you 'njoy! c;

"Luke! Kieran!"

I belt out their names as I storm out my bedroom down the vast hall with my crow plushie in two parts. They expressed how cute they thought it was and it seems like their jealousy ended in decapitating the poor crow.

As I turn the corner into the living room I catch a glimpse of their coats flying in the wind from their rushed steps into Sylus' hallway leading to his office.

Off limits to me.

"Of course! Run to Daddy! You damn rough handed freaks!" I slap the dark wooden doors in frustration and if his office wasn't soundproofed I'm sure I'd hear them cackling.

I spin around, ready to storm back to my room, but my face collides with a hard sternum. I look up and meet Sylus' crimson eyes. His face is stoic and neutral yet I can almost hear his questions.

"Ah~ Sylus. Welcome home- uh I promise I wasn't trying to snoop or anything." He raises an eyebrow, looking over my head at the double doors before looking back down at me with the corner of his lips rising.

"Kitty got her claws out for the troublemakers again?" He pulls a hand from his pockets to gently pat my head.

"Look!" My anger that simmered down at the sight of him returns as I lift the crow plushie, dramatically holding the two pieces together then separating them. Mephisto materializes on Sylus' left shoulder with a caw. "I know Toto, we're gonna get them back."

Sylus chuckles and with the hand he was using to pat my head he gently pinches my cheek. "Darling you know I can just get you one from the supply."

"Of course I know that but this one was special. You got it for me when the collection first dropped through the claw machine." I roll my eyes and look down at the sad plushie.

"You're right, Kitten. I'll have a word with those two." His long finger tucks under my chin into a grip with his thumb as he guides my eyes back to his. "I have to ask though. Who's Daddy?"

I completely understand why he's asking but it's how he's asking. Eyes full of amusement, voice dropping into a whisper and I notice the quick glance he takes at my lips. No denying it now.

"You."

"Me?" Sylus chuckles again and Mephisto takes flight back down the hallway. "Mmm, unless you have an announcement for us both, I don't think so." Without moving or looking away from me he opens the door behind me slightly by using his Evol. "Luke, Kieran come out."

They clumsily slip out of the office, closing it behind them with their heads bowed. I look back and glare at the both of them while Sylus returns his hands to his pockets and stands to his full height. It's cute to see him be all soft around me and Zayne but others he rarely shows that side with Luke and Kieran being an exception.

"Apologize."

"We're real sorry Miss!" They speak in unison and I turn to face them with my arms crossed. They bow deeper and a satisfied smile graces my lips.

"This is me forgiving you but we certainly aren't even." They say nothing as expected and suddenly my hips are within Sylus' strong grasp and he lifts me from the floor, resting my ass onto his chest as he turns and walks away from them. "Sylus!"

I sway a bit, fear striking my heart that I'll teeter over making me instinctively grip his silver locks. He hisses, tightening his hold on my thighs. I apologize and smooth his hair down with a pat.

"'Evening, Doctor." Zayne?

"Good evening. Something happened?" I check my wrist and my workout band reads back at me a bold 7:00 PM. He's home very early.

"Zayne! Welcome home!"

"Thank you, Snowflake. What do you have there? Oh-" Zayne looks shocked to see the crow in my grasp.

"Yeah, the twins. They were probably fighting over my plushie and welp. . ." Zayne walks over to us after sitting his briefcase down on the black marbled counter top of the bar in the living room. He doesn't even question me perched on Sylus' chest and since he can't reach my lips he opts for pressing a kiss to my calf.

"Shame. I can repair him for you if you'd like." I nod and thrust the plushie into his hold and he grabs it with gentle hands. "I can have this done on my off day."

"Now if you'll excuse us, I have to talk to this Kitten about a certain Daddy." I slap a hand over his mouth a bit too late, not expecting Sylus to tell Zayne.

Poor Zayne's eyes widen, surely thinking the worst without context. "Has the implant failed? After all this time-?"

"No, no-"

"I wish."

"Sy!" He chuckles and playfully bites my thigh. "No it hasn't, I was teasing Luke and Kieran."

"Wanna join us?" Sylus tilts his head towards our bedroom and Zayne doesn't waste a second nodding once. "Eager are we?"

"I had a stressful surgery today." Zayne loosens his black tie and three buttons as he walks past us to lead the way.

"Did it go well?" I ask.

"It was a success. Just. . . My sleep wasn't great last night." He releases a deep sigh as he pushes open our bedroom doors with one palm and closes them behind us.

"Well of course not you- Ah~!" Sylus moves quick with dismounting me as if I were a cheerleader and tosses me gently onto the soft bed. "~Sy, jeez. But you slept at the office again. We missed you."

"I'm sorry. I didn't plan for it but I was able to fit in another surgery that way." Zayne is taking his time yet his movements are quick with precision as he undresses himself starting with his sleek wristwatch and vest following to join the injured plushie on the desk.

"You work so hard, Zay, you should really come with us to the bungalow. It's never too- ah~ late." Sylus is kneeling at the end of the bed with my panties in his back pocket and lips against my clit. He's sucking so softly it's leaving me on the line between pleasure and overstimulation.

The lit fireplace isn't helping the warmth rising beneath my skin causing me to scrunch up Zayne's sweater I'd been drowning in. It helps me see Sylus better this way; his long pink tongue wet with both his saliva and my cum creates the prettiest gloss to his lips. I moan as he licks his flat tongue harshly against my clit causing me to grind down and arch into him.

"I gave it some thought." I hear the drag of a chair and I look over at Zayne to see him sitting down into the dark red velvet arm chair near the foot of the bed. His black button up is completely open exposing his chest and his slacks are undone, his hand rubbing over his black briefs. "I'll join you both."

"Come." I reach my hand out and Sylus grabs it, pulling it back down to my side. I look down at him and he pulls away with a wet string, licking his lips.

"He wants to watch, Sweetheart." I look back over at Zayne, his head slightly hanging forward with his hand now beneath his briefs.

"You do?"

"He does. I saw it soon as we locked eyes earlier. He allowed me to see into his thoughts. So you," Sylus leans onto the bed with one knee and helps me out of the sweater fully to leave me naked under both their eyes. "Relax that pretty head of yours and be our good girl." Oh.

Zayne wants to watch how things are when Sylus and I are intimate. I want to get lost in the thoughts of Zayne stepping from his comfort zone to be in place of Sylus, handling me with less care but Sylus keeps me rooted.

He delivers a firm slap to my inner thigh and the sharp pain warms into my skin. "You were bad today too, Y/N." His rough hands slide up and down the outside of my thighs, gripping at my love handles. "Fighting with Luke and Kieran again, tsk."

"I wasn't-"

"Silence." His tone is demanding but gentle. I clench my thighs and blink up at him. "I know you're gonna tell me you didn't start it and I understand but-" He forces my thighs apart and leans his other knee onto the bed, red and black engulfing his frame in seconds to dissipate and reveal his naked body. "I believe I told you three to behave when we aren't at the estate."

Sylus' large frame cages me in and Zayne still has a clear view of us from the side. "I prepared you enough, tonight I'm giving it all." Oh fuck.

I suck in a deep breath as I feel his tip breach my opening, stretching me out over the warm skin. He barely gives me enough time to adjust as he sinks in with one fluid thrust upwards. A sharp pain shoots through my lower tummy and I try to push up using my heels to no avail with Sylus' grip on my hips.

"Deep- too deep, Sy- ah~!" I can barely focus my vision as my eyes start to water but I can still see the smirk adorning his beautiful face. I reach out to him and he allows me as I run my hands up and down his torso as if soothing him would soothe me through his deep strokes.

"How cute, are you telling me that's where I am?" He teases with a quick thrust, making my body jerk and clit come in contact with his pelvis creating the sweetest pleasure. A loud drawn out moan leaves my lips and rings like a mating call into Sylus' ears. He grabs my face in a firm grip and we make eye contact, his eyes burning a bright red as my head turns fuzzy, body relaxing. "As you wish."

Sylus tucks his hands underneath me to grip my ass and elevate me from the bed, angling me until his skin is flush against mine just how I like it. My eyes roll back as he starts at a bruising pace, working my nerves until they're red hot and tingling from my building orgasm.

I bring my hands up to squeeze at my breast, just as he'd foreseen. Sylus slides his right hand up to grip the back of my knee and bends it towards my chest to reveal more of our bodies connecting to Zayne. He has his dick out now, leaking precum all over his hand mixed with his own spit as he strokes himself in time with Sylus' thrusts.

"There! Fuck! So good, Sir- mmph!" Sylus releases under my knee leaving my foot bracing against his chest as he slides two fingers into my mouth.

"Such a dirty mouth. Suck." I leave his fingers coated in my saliva and he brings the same ones down to toy with my clit, breathy moans struggling to leave my throat as he knocks the wind from me with a numbing orgasm. "Breathe," He lowers us back down to the sheets while stretching my leg back down to lean over me and blow air onto my face.

I take a moment to catch my breath as he slowly rocks into me and peppers my face with kisses. "Green. . ." I moan softly.

"Good girl. On your knees, face Zayne." He slowly pulls out of me taking thick strings of cum and saliva with him as he helps me into position, fighting against my aching muscles. He moves into position behind me sliding his tip up and down my folds, snagging at my hole to thrust in slightly then repeat. I tap my foot against the bed in frustration, shaking slightly from the sensitivity and wanting him back inside filling me so perfect.

In one abrupt thrust he gives me what I want and Zayne is standing in front of me now, still stroking his long dick, teasing his tip with his thumb. His other hand reaches out and he tucks his thumb into my mouth to press down on my tongue.

Sylus props up a leg, planting it firmly onto the bed and pounds me into an arch, Zayne's hand following as I suck and drool down his wrist.

"So damn pretty." His hips stutter as a small squirt of cum lands onto my cheek, head pressed into the bed. "Look at me, Y/N." I blink as the tear swelling at my waterline spills onto his hand while he guides me with his thumb to look up. "Open."

He removes his thumb and coats my lips in my own saliva as if it's lip gloss then he guides just the tip of his dick past my lips, jerking the rest of him off. Zayne throws his head back, pleasure clearly taking over him as much as it's taking me from Sylus' constant unyielding pace.

Sylus spanks me hard, causing me to clench around him, hips stuttering as I grow too tight for him to properly thrust. Another spank for that and he rubs a hand over my burning cheek, pressing kisses to my spine as his pace finally slows into deep thrust to ease my suction.

"This ass will me the death of me, Sweetie. It colors so well, mhm, the recoil just right." I moan around Zayne as Sylus thrusts into my cervix, remaining still there as he presses a kiss to the back of my head. "Ready?" I can barely decide if I am, knowing he's about to grow another inch when he releases into my womb.

Thing is, Sylus will have his way whether I respond or not. I give a weak nod as I keep my eyes on Zayne who's looking down, sweat gathered along his collarbones and torso to match his flushed face. It's scrunched in pleasure, mouth agape as he releases heavy puffs of air, eyes zeroed in on my lips wrapped around him.

Sylus' hand slides up from my lower tummy between my breast to grip my throat, raising me higher for Zayne to slip further into my mouth, the man releasing a sweet moan as he now leans a knee onto the bed from his weakening stance feeling his own climax approaching.

"Take it all." Sylus whispers into my ear then kisses down to my soft spot to relax me further as he starts to grow an inch further into my cervix, thrusting harshly in three swift movements as he fills me with his cum. I suck Zayne harder, starting to fight against what little oxygen I have just as I feel him grow stiff against my tongue then one last thrust as he fills my mouth.

I suddenly tighten around Sylus, sucking him in a bit deeper and trapping him there as another orgasm rips through me. He groans into my neck and eases me off of Zayne by the throat, closing my mouth before any spill could happen.

"Swallow. Good girl. So precious, Y/N. You did so good for us." A soft kiss to my temple. "I know you're tired Sweetie, rest. I'll clean you up." I hum and flop down onto the bed, nuzzling into the warm sheets as Sylus gently pulls out of me, propping a pillow beneath me to stop any mess from hitting the bed.

I hear them moving around but slowly I feel the exhaustion taking over. My limbs are jello and even if I could move I don't want to. In my half asleep state I feel a warm towel cleaning between my legs and my face then more moving around until I'm being lifted and laid properly into the bed beneath the sheets with Zayne spooning me and Sylus' chest beneath my head.

Zayne presses kisses to the back of my head and neck, inhaling deeply as he intertwines our legs. In my last moments of consciousness I hear Sylus' deep, sultry voice. "Daddy loves you, sweet dreams."

[tender-rosiey]

a star — gojo satoru x f!reader

a/n: lovesick gojo does smth to me

it’s not often that you don’t find your husband on the jujutsu grounds terrorizing some students, save for today that is. however, it doesn’t pose that much of a problem to you. in the end, he is your husband and you should know him more than anyone else.

so you pride yourself in the fact that you quickly spot his figure on top of one of the buildings. you swiftly make your way up. your shoes click on the roof as you walk towards your husband, “hey ‘toru.”

“hey,” he smiles while you sit beside him and get yourself comfortable. his face turns towards you with a little tilt of his head, “why’re you here, wifey?”

“why’re you here?”

“fair point,” he sighs blissfully, “reminiscing.”

you hum quietly and your hand moves slowly to hold his own. your thumb slowly rub his hands. he chuckles at your concern before pulling your hand to his lips, pressing a firm kiss, “don’t worry; I am not sad.”

he takes a deep breath, “it’s just nice to remember these fun moments every once in a while.”

you nod quietly before looking in front of you, the view captivating you even if you have seen it a million times. tokyo was always a sight to behold from such heights, especially in the night. you close your eyes for a moment, taking it all in.

“yuuji is getting stronger.”

you perk up at your husband’s comment then you murmur, “yeah.”

“so is megumi, but he just has to adjust his way of thinking.”

you smile, “good thing he has you to do that then.”

he throws his head back in laughter, “I am his teacher, after all.”

“everyone tends to forget that,” you tease and he rolls his eyes, “all mighty silly teacher.”

with a tsk, he raises his index finger, sporting a smug grin, “didn’t you know that women like their men dumb?”

“I don’t know if all women do that,” you hum before resting your head on his shoulder, “I sure do, though.”

his hand slips around your waist, and he gasps, “are you flirting with me? I will have you know that I have the prettiest woman ever as my wife.”

“she’s a lucky one.”

he frowns then pouts, lips jutting out and everything, “she sure doesn’t think so.” poking your side, he huffs, “she’s always so mean to me, the epitome of bullying even.”

you giggle swatting his hand away, “you probably deserve it.”

“you’re just like her,” he whines. you giggle and he slowly rubs your side after he lets out a grumble. you let out a soft breath and your hand moves to hold his own. his hand squeezes yours and you squeeze it in return.

the atmosphere is filled with the sound of the soft breeze and crickets’ noises. you’re both left to relish in the silence and the comfort it gives. you’re both looking up at the sky. your gaze trails to the trees on the ground that sway with the wind.

you see the tree where shoko was healing haibara that one time. you see the vending machine that satoru and suguru always hit. you see the bench that nanami always used to sit on. you see the cabin that you and satoru used to hide in to escape from yaga.

you finally understand why your husband chooses this place.

he gets to truly see it all because despite his six eyes’ powers and capabilities, it doesn’t let him see what he truly cares about: friends and memories. from here, he is able to be the spectator that relishes in memories that passed, but will always live in the minds of those who experienced it.

even if, sometimes, only one of the two remains.

feeling your throat tighten at the melancholy thoughts, you take a breath. you take a moment then you inquire, breaking the silence in hopes of distracting yourself, “sooo, what are you watching?”

“a star,” he answers simply.

you furrow your eyebrows, focusing on the dark blue canvas above you, “‘toru, there are no stars tonight.”

he breathes out a chuckle, “I know. I said a star not stars.”

you narrow your eyes, “what do you mean?—“

and then your eyes lock with his own. he is staring intently at you, almost memorizing your features with a lovesick smile on his face. 

you don’t know when did he take his blindfold off, but you’re met with his azure eyes that have love and adoration swimming in them, shades of blue mixing in with the invisible shades of love.

you see your reflection in his eyes and others could swear they see hearts surrounding your figure. his eyes are now a canvas for what he wholeheartedly believes to be the love of his life.

the small soft quirk of his lips is noticeable. the light crinkle of his eyes as he gazes at you gives away how he feels. his entire face is glowing as it faces your own. his hand reaches to hold your face and he grins.

“my star.”

.

.

.

“satoru, that was so cheesy!”

“you love it.”

taglist: @magenta-cat-drawingss @pompompurin1028 @scul-pted @requiem626k @nameless-shrimp @shinys-bsd-world-1 @sonder-paradise @ravenina14 @jessbeinme15s-notebook @todorokichills @ginneko @missrown @shrynkk @simplyxsinned @beautiful-is-boring @starlostlaiba @izukus-gf @irethepotato @thekaylahub @dazaisbloodybandages @aeanya @sweetcloudsimp @moon-catto @the-midnightskies @pianopuppygirl @gojosblackqueen @kryscent @kunikida-simp @whoami-72 @mx-0-child @fiona782 @kisakitwister @imjustasimpxd @psychopotatomeme @dreamcastgirl99 @watyousayin @doobiebochana @laylasbunbunny @hojicha-expresso @4sat0ruu @nineooooo @chuuyasboots @alekssashka7 @rieejjyubi02 @wemma67 @nothisispatrick300 @fallencrescentmoon @etheviese @ho34gojo @the-mom-friend-dot-com @the-weeping-author @stray-npc @libbyistired @anon1412

copyright © tender-rosiey

do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported

[archangeldyke-all]

Reader just straight up not comprehending that Sevika is scary? Like when people talk about how intimidating Sevika is and Reader is just like “Uhm, what do you mean?? That’s my Sevi-bear?? She’s precious.” Pffft

-🥨

I LOVE THIS

men and minors dni

out of all the people in silco's little gang, you never understood why people thought sevika was scariest.

silco is scary. the man never raises his voice, doesn't bat an eye when he orders someone's death, and seemingly feels no remorse about anything... ever. he could blow over in a strong wind, but somehow, through sliminess alone, he's come to rule the entire undercity. that's scary.

lock is scary. just the pure physical size of him is intimidating enough, but add onto that the scars, prison tattoos, and the added strength of shimmer-- the man looks more like a killing machine than a human sometimes.

ran freaks you the fuck out-- they're quiet as fuck on their feet, and they've never missed a target-- sometimes, you think you see them in the shadows of your apartment at night.

but sevika?! sevika's not scary.

sevika's a fucking grandpa.

sevika's happiest when she's gambling with her boys, a cigarette in her mouth, you in her lap.

sevika loves to read but always falls asleep a chapter or two in, snoring as her book falls closed in her hands.

sevika can't be left alone around a freshly baked sweet treat-- or she'll eat the entire thing in one sitting.

sevika's not scary.

"you're married to sevika!?" a goon asks one evening while you wait for her to wrap up her work.

you blink at the man in front of you, trying to place him. he must be a new hire. "why is that surprising to you?" you ask.

"you seem so normal, and sevika's scary!" he squawks. you huff and roll your eyes.

"have you ever tried to get to know her? or do you just let the eyeliner and mech arm scare you off?" you ask. the man ties to speak, but a flash of anger sparks up in you. "you know, i bet you wouldn't be saying this if sevika was a man. why is sevika scary? 'cause she's a woman with power-- that's why." you're ranting now, defensive of your wife and getting worked up.

"no, that's not--"

"baby!" sevika's sweet voice calls. your little argument is completely forgotten as you turn around to greet your wife with a dreamy sigh.

"sevi-bear." you coo, pulling sevika in for a hug. she nuzzles against your throat, humming happily as you comb your fingers through her hair. "let's get outta here baby. made some brownies for you-- they're cooling off at home."

"fuck. i love you so much."

the pair of you leave the bar, tangled in each other's arms, none the wiser to the flabbergasted goon you left behind.

(sevika had threatened to tie a noose around his balls and let him dangle from the rafters earlier today when he'd joked about cheating at a game of cards.)

(now he's questioning his sanity, because the same woman who made him shit his pants in fear at lunchtime is giggling and covering her very defensive, slightly delusional wife in smooches as you two leave the bar hand in hand.)

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@shimtarofstupidity @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @k3n-dyll @sevsdollette

@ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re @raphaellearp

@iamastar @sevikitty @claude999 @nhaaauyen

[jiyascepter]

The Tattoo | 18+ Only

MASTERLIST

Pairing: Rockstar!Bucky x Fem!Tattoo Artist!Reader

Words: 3820

Summary: Bucky, the charismatic and wildly popular rock performer of America, asks for a tattoo from you in a rather..."unconventional" place 👀

Warnings/Content: Smut; Use of "Y/n", Lightly drunk Bucky & Steve, shy/nervous reader, cursing, mention of tattoo needles (no tattoo making scene!), cocky & teasy bucky, mention of getting tattoo on dick, bucky smokes a bit, bucky has piercings and tattoos on his body, semi-public, m!masturbation, handjob, blowjob, kissing, biting, licking, nipple licking (both male and female receiving!), acliteration, riding, praising, nicknames, begging, missionary, softdom vibes from bucky ;) lmk if i missed anything!

A/n: my first bucky fic!! i hope you all like it 𖹭 also there's a lil pun in the last line if u see it which i wanted to add for no reason || also thank you @buckys-wintersoldier & @vbecker10 for motivating my lazy ass to finish this fic, bucky is sending kisses your way <3

The hum of the tattoo machine had just died down as you began cleaning up your shop for the night, the last customer thanking you for the beautiful work you did on her arm.

The familiar scent of ink and disinfectant mingled in the air, grounding you after a long day of work.

The night was winding down, and you were just about ready to call it a day when you heard the sound of a powerful engine gliding down to the dirt road, roaring in the quiet of the small town nestled in the heart of South America, reminiscent of a Midwest American town but infused with a distinctive Latin flavour.

You walk over to your window, which was painted with bold texts of “TATTOO” in different fonts and colours all over, but there was still space to peek at what was happening outside.

The car's rich wine paint gleamed under the moonlight and came to a halt just outside the porch of your shop.

Dust swirled in its wake, kicked up from the gravel road, the familiar vintage Mustang came to a halt just outside the pavement of your shop.

The doors opened from both sides and silhouettes of two men momentarily outlined against the street lights as they got out of the car and you immediately recognized who they were.

James “Bucky” Barnes. The popular, deliciously sexy rockstar of America. Lead vocalist and sometimes drummer of his band.

For over a year he had been your regular customer, gotten about five tattoos on his amazing body from you, secretly away from the eyes of the paparazzi.

He used to drive from the city to your little tattoo shop settled in the small town, just to get a tattoo from you because of the popular reviews about your talented and clean tattoo skills.

Despite his fame and money, he wanted his tattoos from an “authentic” tattoo shop situated in the Midwest.

You had always had a crush on him, even before he became your customer, used to seeing him go all crazy on the stage.

And oh he looked so hot doing that.

He was with his friend and guitarist of the band, Steve Rogers today and your breathing hitched when you saw them both get out of the car just outside your shop.

You were used to him visiting usually during the early mornings, but it was the first time he drove in this late.

The sound of Bucky's laughter, mixed with the boisterous voice of his guitarist Steve Rogers, drifted through the shop's glass window.

They staggered, arms over each other’s shoulders as they giggled over what you could not figure, but it was something stupid for sure.

Were they…drunk?

Not wanting them to see you peeping at them like a nosy neighbour, you quickly pulled back from the window and pretended to be back to cleaning your equipment.

The faint chime of the customer bell was heard when they both entered, a light drunken grin on both of their faces.

“There’s my favourite tattoo maker.” Bucky spoke in a deep rumble that made your stomach roll.

You turned and looked at him with a smile on your face. “Mr. James! It’s been so long since you..last visited...” You cringed at how excited you sounded in the beginning.

“Yeah it’s been a whi…oh come here…” He slurred and pulled you in a hug, surprising you with it, your face meeting the hard muscles of his chest. You blushed a little and Steve grinned at the sight.

Maybe it was the drink, because you two had never hugged. You had always tried to maintain yourself in front of him enough to not let him know that you had a massive crush on him.

You try to calm yourself when he pulls away, hating how you were always nervous around him. You looked up at him, then Steve and said with a nervous chuckle, “Uhm…What are you two doing here at this hour anyway?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady.

“Oh, he needs a tattoo.” Steve says eagerly.

You sighed, shaking your head. “Sorry, Mr. James, I can't give you a tattoo when you're drunk.”

“I'm not drunk,” Bucky insisted and Steve agreed.

You could smell the alcohol on his breath and gave him a sceptical look. “I can smell it right from your breath, Mr James.”

He reached out and took your hand, his touch sending a jolt of electricity through you. "Y/n, please. I'm not drunk, and I need to do this." He put extra emphasis on the word "need," his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your knees weak.

Damn those blue eyes.

You sighed, feeling the familiar flutter of nerves in your stomach. "Al-Alright…but if you regret it tomorrow-”

“-he won’t, that's a promise. Besides, we’re still in our senses.” Steve says, patting Bucky’s back.

You smiled and agreed.

“Okay then, I’ll get going for a drink while he gets inked.” Steve says, asking the routes of the nearby local bar from you.

Once he left, you looked at Bucky and politely asked him to take a seat on the tattoo bench. “So, where are you planning to get the tattoo?”

He smirked and took a seat on the tattoo bench, taking off his dark leather jacket and keeping it aside. “I was thinking if you could give me a tattoo on my, well, let's just say it's a bit unconventional.”

You look at him sceptically, “where do yo-” it took a moment for you to realise what he was implying. When it clicked, your eyes widened, and a blush crept up your cheeks. "You mean…?"

“Yup,” he confirmed, enjoying your reaction. “On my cock.”

“It's a dare by Steve,” he added with a chuckle.

Ah, so that’s why Steve was so eager.

Oh god, you think. You had tattooed his inviting arms, irresistible abs, and even his thighs (only god knew the struggle you endured to control yourself that time), but you had never imagined giving him one on his most precious body part. Your heart hammered in your chest.

You had tattooed plenty of people in intimate areas before, but this was Bucky Barnes. THE Bucky Barnes. Your secret crush, the rockstar you had always fantasised about. And now he was standing in your shop, asking you to tattoo his most private area.

“I, uh, okay,” you managed to say, your voice shaking slightly. “But you’ll need to… you know, get it…hard.”

He grinned. “That will not be a problem, sweetheart,” he says in a flirty manner.

Ugh, why was he like this? If this man never flirted with you, acted like a stereotypical asshole celebrity, maybe you would have lost interest in him and would not have been stuttering and blushing for no reason. But he was always so sweet and so direct with his words.

“T-then you can lay down and get comfortable…I’ll…get the things ready…” you instructed, trying to sound like this was just another Thursday for you, and it was, but not when it’s HIM.

You turned your back to him, gathering your supplies and trying to calm your racing heart. You positioned your seat so you couldn’t see him while he worked himself up, but you could hear every little noise he made.

After a slight rustling of his clothing, the dark denim jeans– the creaking of the tattoo bench when he laid down, you knew the rock singer was absolutely naked behind you.

In no time you could hear his soft groans that sent shivers down your spine. You fought the urge to take a quick glimpse.

“No, no, no, this is so wrong,” you muttered to yourself. You try to busy yourself cleaning the needles, but the way he was making those sounds made it really hard to concentrate.

Bucky, leaned back on the tattoo bench, the cool air of the shop brushing against his skin as he worked himself up. He tried to imagine all the girls he’d ever fucked, but the setting was not quite adding up.

A playful smirk tugged at the corners of his lips as he watched you busy yourself with the supplies. His keen blue eyes took in every detail of your nervous movements, the way your hands trembled slightly as you gathered the ink and needles.

He could sense your flustered state, the barely contained excitement in your voice, and the way your cheeks had flushed a deep pink when you realised what he wanted.

He smirked to himself, he loved seeing you flustered, the way your voice hitched when you spoke to him. It was endearing.

As he lay there, waiting for himself to get fully hard, he couldn’t help but think about how much he enjoyed teasing you.

He loved the way your cheeks flushed when he called you sweetheart, the way your eyes darted away when he caught you staring at his body.

He had suspected for a while that you had a crush on him, and the thought had crossed his mind more than once: what would it be like if he made a move? Tonight, with the alcohol loosening his inhibitions, he decided to push the boundaries a little more.

“Y/n…?” His voice broke the chain of your sexy thoughts.

“Mhm…?” You responded, trying to sound nonchalant.

“Do you wanna take a look, sweetheart?” he teased.

Your face burned with embarrassment.

Did he figure you out? That you were thirsting over his undoubtedly beautiful co– now was not the time.

“N-no,” you stammered, heart hammering in your chest.

He lets out a deep chuckle. “No? But you gotta look to draw on me.”

“Oh so you’re- are you ready, Mr James?” You say, deeply breathing to calm your nerves.

“I think I am, yes.”

You turned around slowly, your eyes widening at the sight of him lying there, fully exposed below, just his shirt on. You swallowed hard, trying to keep your composure as you wore your silicone gloves and approached him with the rest of your supplies.

You tried to calm yourself. Maybe this would not be so tough if you didn’t think too much. You looked at his cock, your breathing hitched.

“Mr James…this…isn’t hard enough.” You say, cringing at your words.

He grins to himself. “Not hard enough huh?”

You nod shyly trying not to look at his cock again. “It needs to be fully erect…or the tattoo wouldn’t look good.”

He shifted a bit towards your side in his bench and said in a low tone, “How about you help me sweetheart?”

“H-help?” You reply, your voice trembling slightly.

Bucky’s eyes twinkled with perversity as he smirked at you. “I wouldn’t mind an…extra help.”

You shook your head, trying to resist the pull of his charm. “I really shouldn’t,” you insisted, but your resolve was weakening under his intense gaze.

Bucky leaned closer, his breath warm against your ear as he spoke. “Just a little assistance,” he murmured, his lips almost brushing against your skin, “from my sweet tattoo artist.”

You bit your lip, the temptation becoming too strong to resist. With a shaky breath, you nodded, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness. “Let’s get this over with, it’s…it’s getting late already…”

And with an unsteady hand you wrapped your hand around his needy member.

“Fuck,” Bucky hissed, nearly pushing his hips forward for you. You started stroking his semi-hard length, staring at it and then his face for the reaction. And oh, was he enjoying it. He was enjoying it too much.

“T-the gloves…” He almost whispered, gesturing to your silicone gloves you were wearing. “Take ‘em off…”

In no time you almost made it your goal to please him, taking off your gloves and gripping his cock tighter and brushing it up and down with your soft, bare hand.

You touched his red tip with your thumb, and noticed how it glistened with pre-cum at your touch.

“Fuck, you’re so good at this,” he whimpered, gripping the leather bench tightly with both of his hands. You looked at him and murmured with a shy grin, “I’m a tattoo artist, what did you expect?” He grinned at your answer, “such…skilled hands…baby, you’re a handful.”

You squeezed the base of his thick cock, and he let out the sexiest moan you must’ve heard from a man.

You watched as Bucky's face contorted with pleasure, your hand moving up and down his length, feeling the smooth, hot skin beneath your fingers.

Bucky’s voice ringed in your ears again, “Y/n,” he said low and husky, “take a lick, sweetheart.”

Your heart pounded in your chest, your body responding to his request before your mind could catch up.

You leaned down, your breath warm against his skin, and flicked your tongue across his tip, tasting the salty pre-cum. His reaction was immediate, a sharp intake of breath followed by a deep, guttural moan.

“Fuck, I knew you wanted it,” he whispered, his hands clenching the edges of the leather cushion. You gripped the base of his cock, holding it while your other hand massaged his balls.

“You’re doing so good, baby,” he murmured. Encouraged by his response, you took him into your mouth, swirling your tongue around the head before taking him deeper. He groaned louder, his hips bucking slightly as you sucked him, your hand still working his base.

Bucky's hand—adorned with several metal rings—found its way to your hair, gently guiding your movements as you bobbed your head up and down. "Just like that, sweetheart," he murmured, his voice strained with pleasure. "You like my cock, don’t you?"

“Mhm…” you hummed, releasing his cock from your mouth and putting it in again. You felt a surge of pride at his words, your arousal growing with each passing second.

You hollowed your cheeks, taking him deeper into your mouth, feeling him swell and harden further. His moans grew louder, more desperate, and you knew he was getting close.

Before he could finish, you cooed in your sweetest voice, “Mr. James, I need you inside me.”

Bucky's eyes darkened with lust at your whispered request, a predatory smirk playing on his lips. “Cutie wants that huh?”

Without waiting for a response, he leaned forward and captured your lips in a heated kiss, his tongue immediately delving into your mouth.

The kiss was hungry, passionate, his hands roaming your body with an urgency that made your head spin.

His hands surrounded your waist, grabbing hold of the hem of your top and lifted it up from your body and kissed you hungrily again. He discarded it carelessly, his hands immediately finding your breasts, kneading them through your bra.

“Aren’t you a sexy thing,” he growled against your lips, his fingers expertly unclasping your bra and tossing it aside. He pulled you closer and you lifted your knee up on the bench between his legs.

His mouth descended to your breasts, sucking and nibbling on your nipples, making you moan and arch your back, pressing yourself against him.

He swirled his tongue over and over your aching nipples, his hands working their way to pull off your jeans. Your hands grabbed hold of his shirt almost needily, lifting it off of him to reveal his sexy, tattooed body with abs as if daring you to take a lick.

“I need you, Mr Ja-” he kisses you again, shutting you up. “It’s Bucky for you.”

His words made your cheeks go red as you nodded.

He grinned at your flushed face, his big hands roaming to your back and down while his tongue found its place back on your nipples. His hands undo your jeans, pulling them down to reveal your panties.

He pulled away from your nipples and pulled both of your knees on the tattoo bench, holding your butt while he pressed kisses on your belly. He squeezed your bottom before pulling your panties off too, leaning down and placing a kiss on your mound.

“You wanna ride me, babygirl?” He asked breathlessly. You nodded almost greedily at the idea.

His hand slides gently around the back of your neck, his touch firm yet tender. With a subtle tug, he pulled you closer, and his lips met yours in a needy kiss.

He lifted you effortlessly onto the tattoo bench, positioning you so that you were straddling him. His cock was hard and ready, pressing insistently against your wet entrance.

You moaned as you felt him against you, your body aching with need.

“So needy aren’t you, baby?” He grinned, slowly sliding his member against your wet clit. “All wet and ready for me…I’m already leaking cum at the sight of you.”

“Bucky please…” You whimpered, not able to take the tension aching between your legs.

He smirked and licked his thumb (oh what a sight!) and softly grazed it against your nipples. His cold metal ring on the thumb only added to your pleasure. You softly gasped, the need building from the friction of his cock and this wasn’t helping at all.

He chuckled in a low voice, “you’re so cute,” looking at your reactions and how you tried to not melt on him then and there.

“Please,” you breathed, “I need your cock inside me.”

“Stop driving me crazy,” he says, biting his lower lip and sitting up to meet your face, his slicked member pressing against your bud.

He pressed kisses against your jaw, moving down to lick your neck and gave you a bite.

“You’re getting so shameless aren’t you?” He murmured against your skin, his tongue swirling over the spot on your delicate neck. “First you can’t even look at my face properly, and now you’re begging for my cock like a slut?”

You dived your finger in his dark hair, gripping it while he made you crazier with his lips and teeth on your neck.

“Fuck me.” You breathed.

He pulled away and licked his lips, looking at your face. “Poor baby,” he whispered and leaned against the tattoo bench comfortably, positioning himself against your entrance properly.

With a groan, he thrusted up into you, filling you completely in one swift motion. You cried out as he stretched you, the sensation overwhelming and intoxicating.

He paused for a moment, letting you adjust to the feeling of him inside you, his hands moving to your waist to guide your movements.

"Ride me, baby," he commanded, his voice rough with desire. "Show me how much you want me."

You began to move, slowly at first, lifting yourself up and down on his cock, feeling the delicious friction as he filled you over and over again. His big and hard member stretched your insides while you moaned helplessly.

“Fuck– so hot,” he murmured with a little drunken grin on his face.

His hands gripped your hips, helping to guide your movements, urging you to go faster, harder. You obliged, your pace quickening, your breaths coming in ragged gasps as the pleasure built inside you.

Bucky's hands slid up your back, pulling you down so your bodies were pressed tightly together. You moved down to lay against his hard chest, while his hand gripped your arms behind your back while he started jerking his hips with a smooth motion.

You licked his nipple, your tongue encircling his piercing and taking it between your teeth, pulling at it. Bucky’s face skewed into pleasure and surprise.

Surely he wasn’t expecting that move from someone as you.

“Damn– are you tryna eat me up today or somethin’?” He says, loving the sight of you.

You grinned against him and pressed kisses against his chest while he started to thrust into you faster. He kissed you hungrily, his tongue exploring your mouth as he thrust up into you with a renewed intensity. The new angle sent jolts of pleasure through your body, your moans muffled by his kiss.

You could feel the pressure building inside you, the tension coiling tighter and tighter with each thrust.

You sit back on him, riding him out, getting him and his cock all wet in your fluids. He gripped your arms tighter, hitting the perfect spot inside you when he started to fuck you almost mercilessly.

Your walls clenched around him.

He picked you up, his cock still throbbing inside you while he got up from the tattoo bench and laid your back on it. The cool leather against your back sent shivers down your spine, contrasting with the heat radiating from your body.

His eyes, dark with lust, locked onto yours as he leaned down, capturing your lips in a searing kiss.

“God, you're so tight,” he groaned, his voice thick with pleasure. Each thrust grew more powerful, more intense, as he pounded into you.

You couldn't take your eyes off his chest, mesmerised by the way his piercings shook with every movement, adding to the intoxicating sight.

His neck muscles stretched and tensed, enhancing the raw, primal allure of his powerful body moving against yours.

You could feel the tattoo bench creaking beneath you, but all you could focus on was the incredible sensation of him inside you, the way he seemed to fit perfectly.

"Bucky," you gasped, "I'm so close."

His response was a low, guttural growl. "Come for me, baby," he commanded, his hips snapping forward with a force that made stars dance behind your eyelids. "I want to feel you come around my cock."

His words pushed you over the edge, and with a cry of his name, your orgasm crashed over you, your body convulsing with pleasure.

Your walls tightened around him, and you could feel him throbbing inside you, his movements becoming erratic as he chased his own release.

You looked so pretty when you were drunk on him.

"Fuck, Y/n," he groaned, his grip on your hips tightening as he drove into you one last time, his own climax hitting hard before he pulled out and released himself all over your pussy.

He rubbed his tip against your messy clit, the sensitivity of it making you moan and whimper.

You could feel the mix of your fluids dripping from you, while you panted and just laid on the tattoo bench trying to catch your breath.

He grinned at the sight of you, then began to pull his clothes back on, still watching you with a satisfied smirk as you tried to regain your strength and catch your breath.

Once dressed, he leaned down to your face, “I knew you’d be incredible, my sweet tattoo artist.” The nickname jolted you back to the reason he was here in the first place.

“Bucky, I–” He shushed you, brushing a strand of hair from your face.

His eyes lingered on your exposed breasts as he smirked, “I’ll come again for the tattoo tomorrow,” he said, leaving the shop with a chime of the door, lighting up a cigarette.

┈➤ Bucky Taglist in the comments! Lmk if you want to join or just click this 𖹭 Thx for reading !

[saintobio]

⊹★⋆ two wheels and a hot guy.

pairings. gojo satoru, fem!reader tags. 1k wc, biker boy x biker girl au, non-sorcerer au, crack, fluff, dirty jokes (?), satoru rides an s1k, biker!sukuna mentions, same au as my other fic. sparked by a random idea bcos why haven't we thought abt biker!gojo honestly? he would be so funny on tiktok if he was a biker boy lmao

You’ve all heard about Biker!Sukuna. That famous biker boy on biketok who has tattoos and rides a blacked out Yamaha R1. 

But have you heard about Biker!Gojou? 

Well… For starters, Satoru Gojou wasn’t a seasoned biker. 

In fact, he was more of a poser than anything, but you’d never catch him admitting that. His prized BMW S1000RR, the crown jewel of superbikes, was more about image than skill. The sleek, aggressive lines of the machine, combined with the prestige of the BMW logo, were all he needed to keep up appearances on TikTok. And he learned that appearances were everything, especially when Sukuna, with his obnoxious face tattoos and natural charisma, hogged the limelight (especially from all the girls!) with every post, even with a girlfriend already in tow. The sheer audacity of that scum was enough to drive Satoru up the wall. Fine, he had to admit. He was jealous of Sukuna’s popularity and the fact that he snatched a cute booktok girlfriend as his backpack. 

Suguru, his best friend and fellow biker, didn’t let him forget it either. As they stood by their bikes outside Barnes & Noble to spot booktok girls, Suguru glanced at Satoru’s liter bike and smirked. 

“Pretentious motherfucker,” he muttered, slinging a leg over his Yamaha MT-10, the less flashy but undeniably badass naked bike. Unlike Gojou, Suguru didn’t care about clout. The MT-10 was all about raw power and agility, the kind of bike a real rider appreciated. “You only got that thing because it’s a BMW. You gonna actually ride it for real one of these days?”

“Shut up.” Satoru rolled his eyes, adjusting his white Alpinestars riding gloves while holding his phone up to go live on TikTok. Starting with a 1000cc as a beginner bike wasn’t a very wise choice, but still... “People love the S1K, you know that.”

And let me tell you about Satoru’s favorite time of the day (or night). It was whenever he would go live, and the comments would pour in as soon as his stream started. That was when he could lavish in his social media presence the most.

user19463: Bro, when are you gonna show us some actual riding content?

anon875biker: All that thirst trapping. Bet you don’t even take that thing out of the garage. 

harleysRbetter: U punks R ruining the riding community! 

Gojou grinned at the screen, winking at both his followers and haters. “Alright, boomers, calm down. I’ll post some riding content soon. Don’t cry too much before then, yeah?”

r1.skn: Sir, can you do wheelies? 

Suguru found that comment hilarious, recognizing the username and knowing exactly who it belonged to—Sukuna. But Satoru’s competitive nature kicked in instantly while he continued to scroll through the comments. “Yeah, I can do wheelies. Ignore Sukuna, guys. Focus on me!”

msbikerluvr: Still looking for a backpack, Gojou? Lmao.

“About the backpack… you know, I’m just waiting for the right one. Applications are still open—” He was about to launch into another witty retort when a sound cut through the chatter of his stream—it was a deep, throaty rev that sent a shiver of excitement down his spine. Satoru’s head immediately whipped to the direction of the sound, just in time to see a flash of race blue zipping down the street.

There you were, riding a Yamaha R7, your black Dainese jacket hugging your curves as you leaned into the wind. The way you handled the bike, so smooth and confident, it was as if the motorcycle was an extension of you. 

“Damn, she’s hot.” Without a second thought, Satoru ended the live stream abruptly, “Gotta go, guys. Someone just stole my heart,” and pocketed his phone.

“Did you seriously just—” Suguru started, but Satoru was already mounting his S1000RR.

“Catch you later, Suguru!” he called, gunning the engine without even looking at his best friend. Soon enough, the 1000cc bike roared to life when he shifted into first gear, and he sped off in pursuit of the blue R7.

He caught sight of you at the next red light, the signal holding you in place just long enough for him to catch up. Thank God there was no sign of a biker boyfriend around when he pulled up alongside you, visor down, adrenaline still kicking him alive. He tried to get your attention by revving his S1K, and you turned your head slightly, barely acknowledging him as you pulled your visor up and revealed the prettiest eyes Gojou had ever seen. 

Satoru flipped up his visor too, then flashed his most charming grin. “Hey there,” he said, trying to keep his voice smooth and casual. Like it was a normal encounter. “You’re fast. I like that.”

You may have rolled your eyes, but he could tell you were smirking underneath the balaclava as you talked through the Cardo intercom linked to your AGV K1s. “And you’re obnoxious. I don’t like that.”

Oooh, she’s spicy. He laughed at the silly thought in his head, unbothered by your dismissal. “Come on, don’t be like that. I’m just trying to get to know the girl who stole my heart in the middle of a live stream.”

“Your heart, huh?” you teased, revving her engine just slightly. “Sounds like you’re more interested in what’s under my jacket.”

“Now that’s a baseless accusation,” he retorted, leaning in slightly. “I don’t do anything on the first night, you know. I usually wait until the second, after a nice dinner. I’m a gentleman like that.”

His remark made you snort, shaking your head at his boldness. “You’re a ridiculous guy.”

“But I’m also serious,” he added, his voice sincere despite the playful glint in his eyes. “Let me take you out, just dinner. No strings, no funny business—unless you’re into that kind of thing. I don’t mind that, either.”

Your laughter sounded like a sweet melody to his ears. “You’ve got guts, mister. I’ll give you that.” Has anyone told you how hot you looked while leaning into your bike? Damn. Satoru was distracted, checking you out for a moment until you spoke again, “Fine. One dinner. But don’t think you’re getting into my pants just because you ride a fancy bike.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he promised, grinning from ear to ear.

The light turned green, and without another word, you revved your engine and took off with Satoru right on your tail. The chase was on, but this time, it wasn’t just about the thrill of the ride. 

For Satoru Gojou, it was about something far more exhilarating—winning the attention of the most intriguing biker girl he’d ever met. 

And perhaps, the biker boyfriend and backpack girlfriend content he’d been hoping to post on Tiktok may slightly change into a different direction than he expected. 

[moonxknightx]

♡˗ˏ✎*ೃ˚ : LEARNING CURVES : :;

╰┈➤ ❝ [PAIRING] ❞ Logan Howlett x F!Reader

・❥・GENRE: Fluff :))

 ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆FANDOM: X-Men

ੈ✩‧₊˚ WARNINGS: None!

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥SUMMARY: Logan helps you learn to ride his motorcycle. Amidst playful teasing and heartfelt moments, you both navigate the ride and discover that the real thrill is the time spent together.

THE SUN WAS JUST BEGINNING TO SET, casting a warm orange glow over the open road as you stood by the garage, anxiously eyeing the gleaming black motorcycle parked in front of you. It was a beast of a machine, all chrome and leather, looking as intimidating as the man who owned it. Logan stood beside you, a small smirk playing at the corners of his mouth as he handed you a helmet.

“You sure about this?” he asked, his gruff voice laced with amusement.

You gave him a determined nod, though your stomach was doing somersaults. “I can handle it,” you replied, trying to sound more confident than you felt.

Logan chuckled, the sound deep and comforting, like warm honey. He leaned in close, brushing a soft kiss against your temple. “I know you can, bub. Just don’t want you to wreck my bike.”

You rolled your eyes, playfully shoving him away. “Please, I’m more worried about wrecking me.”

With that, you threw a leg over the bike, settling into the seat. The leather was cool against your skin, and the handlebars felt solid beneath your hands. Logan watched you with an expression that was half-pride, half-amusement, like he couldn’t decide if he was more impressed or entertained by the whole situation.

“Alright, first things first,” he began, his tone shifting to something more serious. He stepped up beside you, his large hands covering yours on the handlebars. “Throttle’s here, brake’s there. And this”—he pointed to the lever—“is the clutch. Got it?”

You nodded, your heart racing as his breath tickled your ear. Having him this close, his presence so reassuring and strong, made you feel like you could take on the world. Or at least, this motorcycle.

Logan moved back, watching as you tried to start the engine. The bike roared to life beneath you, the vibration rumbling through your entire body. You couldn’t help the excited grin that spread across your face. Logan grinned back, his eyes crinkling at the corners in that way that always made your heart skip a beat.

“Look at you,” he teased, crossing his arms over his chest. “Natural born biker, huh?”

You revved the engine a little, testing the feel of it, but your overenthusiastic twist of the throttle made the bike lurch forward, nearly throwing you off balance. You yelped, your foot slamming down on the ground to steady yourself. Logan burst out laughing, his deep, throaty chuckle filling the air.

“Okay, maybe not a natural,” you muttered, your cheeks burning with embarrassment.

Logan was at your side in an instant, his laughter softening as he rested a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “You’re doin’ fine. Just ease up a little. The bike’s gotta trust you, same as you trust it.”

“Since when did you get so philosophical about motorcycles?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

He shrugged, a sly grin spreading across his face. “I’m a man of many talents.”

You snorted, but the nervousness was ebbing away, replaced by a sense of determination. You took a deep breath, tried again, and this time, the bike moved forward smoothly, rolling down the driveway under your control. Logan jogged alongside, his eyes fixed on you like he was ready to catch you at any second.

“There ya go! Nice and easy,” he coached, his voice warm and encouraging.

You rode in a small circle, slowly getting the hang of it. Your heart swelled with pride when you saw Logan’s approving nod. Feeling a bit bolder, you gave the bike a bit more gas, picking up speed.

“Alright, hotshot, don’t get too cocky!” Logan called out, but there was a note of pride in his voice.

You were doing it! You were actually riding a motorcycle! The thrill of it coursed through your veins, the wind whipping through your hair, the powerful engine purring beneath you. You glanced back at Logan, ready to flash him a victorious grin—

—and that’s when you saw the mailbox.

“Oh shi—” You swerved, trying to avoid it, but the bike wobbled, and before you knew it, you were tumbling off the side, landing in the grass with a thud. The bike tipped over, but thankfully, it wasn’t going fast enough to do any real damage.

Logan was by your side in an instant, his concern barely masking his amusement. “You alright, sweetheart?” he asked, trying—and failing—not to laugh.

You groaned, rubbing your bruised shoulder. “I think I’ll stick to four wheels.”

Logan chuckled, helping you up before pulling you into his arms. “You did good,” he murmured against your hair, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “We’ll try again tomorrow. Maybe leave the mailbox out of it.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, the sound muffled against his chest. “Maybe you could just drive, and I’ll hold on tight?”

Logan’s arms tightened around you, his voice softening to a rumble that you felt more than heard. “Darlin’, you can hold on to me anytime you want.” He tilted your chin up, his gaze locking onto yours, and the teasing warmth in his eyes made your heart flutter.

“You know,” you whispered, “I think I’ll take you up on that offer.”

He grinned, leaning down to capture your lips in a sweet, lingering kiss, the kind that made the world around you melt away until there was nothing but him. When he pulled back, there was a mischievous glint in his eye.

“Guess I’ll just have to keep teachin’ you,” he said, his voice low and playful. “Can’t let my girl be anything less than the best, right?”

You rolled your eyes, but your smile betrayed you. “Sure, Logan. Whatever you say.”

As the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of pink and purple, you leaned into Logan’s side, the rumble of his laughter vibrating through you as you both stood there, the motorcycle forgotten. It didn’t matter that you’d wiped out on your first try. All that mattered was that you were with him, and together, there wasn’t a thing in the world you couldn’t face.

Well…except maybe that mailbox.

🏷️: @twinky-wink @fidgetingbee @astarions-girl-dinner @layladestiny8

If you want to be added to the taglist, let me know x

Also, tomorrow the first chapter of my Logan mini series will air, so stay tuned!🥳

[idontcaboose]

Haunted car au, pt2

Prev

Danny had waited for a bit to make sure no one else was in the cave with him before he started trying to escape. He found out that: trying to shove or push his way out resulted in the horn to honk, flailing around caused the doors, trunk, and hood to open and close, trying to blast his way out turned on the brights, and after getting a little claustrophobic, he caused the windows and roof to roll down. He didn't know the Batmobile was a convertible, he can't really see Batman letting the top down to let wind blow in his pointy ears. That would be silly.

He isn't sure how no one came down to check the noises he was making, that honk was loud in the enclosed area. The bats above definitely didn't like it, Danny felt the need for a couple of showers, which made him wonder how a car wash would feel. There was a loud *ding* noise that snapped Danny out of his pondering, and he saw an older gentleman start wandering the cave and tidying it up. The man did tsk at the car and where it was parked, as well as the mess that was on the vehicle. It wasn't too much later when another *ding* echoed through the cave and the older gentleman greeted a young dark skinned teenager. It was nice to know that the man's name was Alfred and the teen was Duke.

Duke concerned Danny, he kept looking at him, or well, the car, weirdly. Alfred didn't seem surprised that the car was in the spot it was in, he was just annoyed that no one parked it in a better spot. Duke however, looked like the car was creeping him out. Duke looked a little sick when Alfred asked him to move the car and wash it before he went on patrol. Was Danny really that dirty? He could only look out the windows as if he was just sitting in the car, and the hood didn't look that bad.

Duke slowly approached the car like it would bite him. Danny decided to see if he could shift his perspective to the passenger seat so it didn't feel awkward mentally occupying the seat Duke was about to sit in. It was a weird sensation, but Duke seemed to relax a bit after he did so. Danny kept an eye on Duke as he felt the engine turn on, Danny tensed as he felt the car be put into reverse. It wasn't until Duke revved the engine a bit that Danny realized he was keeping the car from moving. Danny tried relaxing a bit and gave Duke a sheepish look. Danny trusted Duke to drive him to where he was supposed to go, and away they went. They parked on a platform a few feet lower than the main chamber; it housed a handful of cars and motorcycles, all of various colors. Danny was among his ‘new’ people now.

The thing about showers and getting clean, it was usually done by oneself, getting cleaned by another person was not a thing Danny wanted to experience again. He made a note to tell whoever cares for him in his old age, to end him before he needs the dreaded sponge baths. It wasn't that Duke was doing a bad job of washing the car, but the water was ice cold, the cloth was scratchy, and he was just left to drip dry! Even his dad would towel off the GAV when it needed a wash, the disrespect of machines today. Danny accidentally made his displeasure known by revving the engine in a way that was almost akin to a growl. Duke scampered away quickly after that.

It wasn't long until the kid stepped back onto the platform and took the yellow and black bike out of the tunnel. Alone again, and now facing the tunnel of freedom.

Now how to get this thing into drive on his own?

HOOONNNNKKKK

*sigh*

______________

Next?

@kizzer55555

@trappednyourheart

@candeartist422

@sebas-nights

@fandom-life-corrupted-me

[shaisuki]

𝗢𝗨𝗥 𝗞𝗜𝗡𝗗 𝗢𝗙 𝗠𝗜𝗦𝗧𝗔𝗞𝗘

ft. bully! gojo satoru and geto suguru

content warnings major timeskip flashbacks, talks about overdosing, harassment.

notes i promise next chapter would be the start.

taglist: @missakward123 @lupitalove @i00bear @socialanxietyvictim @tourmalxine @labelt-san @ghostlyworld @kashxyou @chiiiiiiiiiiifuuuuuuuu @cute-sucker @skii-high @boyimjustaloserforyourlove @jossayuuu @bubblesandsand1-0 @ply4vnce @witchymermaid12 @luna-v-roiya @mariyumemi @sinfullygay @higurumapet @kvk6433gkcigv @s-j320 @bts-skz @imcreepininyourheartbabe @hazzelle-kento @cashcadaver @n1vi @kiruupon @vebbiewuzhere @its-princessmara @ssetsuka @unicornqueen05 @idkwhattfimdoinghere2 @sunnytyun @tomriddles-wh0re @ya-mamaaaaa @wateriswhatiam @red-writes @saltyladyflower @greyclouq @bahurani @lovayle @okayiamkassandra @sealikesushi @sanzuandmikey

SERIES MASTERLIST

synopsis a old memory surfaces

the rolling of the wheel of the lighter ignited a small flame then it dies down. there's a few clicking before it produces a fire and suguru watched in a bored manner. following the lighter's fire touched the tip of the cigarette and then followed by a smoke. the brunnete inhales before exhaling the smoke. humming as she glances at his friends. impatient from the looks of it.

years of being friends with these two and one could say she's used to the duo's shenanigans and yet, it was still fucking unbelievable how these two creates trouble and her taking the brunt of it. the memory of you unmoving while being connected to machines still replays in her mind.

“god forbid you two for existing.” shoko started. taking a puff from her cigarette. the stick between her slender fingers glowing brightly. “strong words, sho.” suguru commented. “what we did do for you to say that?” satoru grumbles. chewing the candy he was eating out of his frustration. it's not like for shoko to say things like that knowing that she leaves them do whatever it pleases them.

“you know damn well.” shoko flicks the cigarette. the ashes dancing before it disappears in the wind before putting the cigarette in her lips.

suguru then took a puff of his smoke and sighs. he knows where this conversation is going. “what happened to her, sho?” taking the sight of the lawn below him while he leans on the railing of their frat house. satoru who was earlier grumbling stops and listened to what shoko have to say about you.

“she overdosed and was in coma for two days, you idiots.” shoko revealed them and satoru was the first to say something about it. “overdosed?” he let out a laugh. disbelief painted on his face.

“and how we are involved in this?” suguru raises a brow at her and shoko remains looking in the front. not sparing a glance to the two idiots besides her. “do i really need to tell you two? you were all over her since last semester and for all i know is both of you are fucking her! literally and figuratively. you sick fucks!” shoko without blinking tell them. never they did see shoko to be so worked up.

“calm down shoko. we're just playing with her and we didn't know that she'll end up there. maybe, she was experimenting.” fixing his glasses as he explained to shoko but she was having none of it and the cigarette burns faster as she took a long deep breath from it.

“we thought she was tipsy that night. we didn't know she done it.” suguru added.

“i can't believe you two! and seriously experimenting? what the fuck is that thinking, satoru! and you suguru, of all people! i thought you were the empathetic one. you left her to die, you fucking assholes!” shoko said enraged. throwing her cigarette in anger and pulling another one. struggling to light the goddamn lighter. geto grabs the lighter from her. it smoothly lights as he clicks the lighter and shoko lights her cigarette. “i just can't believe you two were capable of that.” shoko sighs, rubbing a tense spot in her head. she got a headache and two literal headaches as her friends.

fuck, how did that happen. you were fine and maybe you were a little tipsy when they left you and it was nothing serious about it. you were being stubborn that night and how the fuck did you end up overdosing yourself. he just can't believe it.

suguru looks at shoko. the dark circles below her eyes got darker than it was. late hours shifts as an intern does this to her and he thinks about you. he kept an eye to you that night and he only takes his eyes off you for a second and you already put yourself in trouble and maybe that's the reason you got dragged to him and satoru. he stares at his friend. handsome he may look but this one could be a pain in the ass. entitled and a spoiled brat. that's what makes them a perfect pair despite their differences. he can ground satoru but when it comes to you. they're both in line in each other's whims.

“is she okay, sho?” satoru asks.

“she'll live.”

“is she still in there?”

shoko scoffs. “what you two going to send her a get-well-soon card after endangering her?” the sarcasm hits and satoru winces. “and to answer your question. she transferred hospitals and don't know where and even i know, i won't tell you both. it's best for her to be away from you two.” finishing her cigarette and then tucks her hands in her pockets. she walks away but stops.

“fair warning you two, it will bite back.” she says and left without looking back.

that was years ago. they tried to find you and it always pointed them in a dead end. can't say they're a changed men now but they did mature and the damage they had done to you was the worst thing.

satoru sits in his chair. it was two years now since it was passed to him. he's the heir after all and now ceo. suguru is still out there and sometimes would visit. have his own business ventures to attend too and is now, engaged to his fiancé whom his father had arranged. sometimes, he thinks about you. were things to be different around here if you were here and it looks like his prayer was answered.

you came walking through his doors.

[wileys-russo]

grace clinton, at home, “have you taken my chocolate?”

chocolate thief II g.clinton

"baby!" you looked up at the thick scouser accent ringing through the house. "yeah?" you called back, currently loading up the washing machine with its second load of the day, another basket to be folded sat on top you'd just taken out of the dryer.

"yeah?" you repeated again when there was nothing back, rolling your eyes. "baby!" you groaned as again your girlfriend yelled out, kicking the washing machine door shut and storming off to find her.

"what!" you sought her out in the kitchen with a huff, her head buried deep in the pantry. "have you taken my chocolate?" she accused, rummaging around and moving things as you sighed.

"i was literally a hundred metres away and you yelled down the house to ask me about...chocolate?" you asked in disbelief as she gave you a look over her shoulder and resumed her search.

"obviously. because i can't find me chocolate and you're the number one suspect!" you scoffed at that as she gave up and pulled her head out of the pantry with a scowl, crossing her arms grumpily over her chest.

"well?" she asked impatiently as you raised an eyebrow. "well what?" you questioned right back crossing your own arms and mirroring her body language. "have you taken my chocolate?" the footballer asked as you rolled your eyes.

"no, no i haven't. now if you'll leave me in peace i have to finish doing your laundry!" you turned around and walked off hearing her whine behind you. "where is it!"

"maybe you ate it clinton? did you consider that?" you called back, grabbing out the detergent and setting up the machine hearing her footsteps follow after you.

"yes. but i think i'd know if i ate me own chocolate babe!" grace appeared in the doorway as you sighed, flicking on the washing machine as its hum filled the room and you turned to the basket of clean clothes.

"oh so now you wanna be sweet?" you chuckled feeling arms wind around your torso and her chin find home on your shoulder. "m'always sweet baby, thats why ya fell so deeply in love with me." she teased kissing your cheek as you only hummed, feeling her hands move around patting at you.

"are you checking my pockets for chocolate!" you realized, pushing against her so she stumbled back and whipping around to shoot her a glare, hands on hips as she smiled guilitily.

"no? i was...checking for your phone. i can't find mine so i was gonna use yours to call it!" she grinned, clearly proud of her excuse as your eyebrows raised. "the phone thats right there? in your pocket?" her grin dropped as you pointed to the obvious lump in her joggers.

"ah look at that, you're just so smart baby...found it for me." she laughed awkwardly rubbing her neck, backing out of the room as you advanced on her, taking off in a run as you charged after the taller girl with a yell.

~

"babe?" you called out, grace ignoring you as she crouched down reading the back of a packet of energy drinks with a frown of concentration.

"babe?" you tried again, a little louder tapping your foot impatiently as again you were ignored. "grace!" you grabbed a packet of crisps, lobbing them at her as they bounced off her jacket and finally she looked over.

"oi what you playin at! now they're gonna be all smushed." your girlfriend huffed as you rolled your eyes. "rest of the list? do you mind helping me for once instead of trying to sneak in things we don't need!" you sighed shoving the piece of paper in her hand.

"pft baby we don't need a list! everything we need is all up here." the dirty blonde grinned tapping her forehead, balling up the list and throwing it in your cart as you huffed and grabbed it out.

"in that case then i didn't realise hot air was on the list." you grumbled, squealing as her fingers jabbed at your sides for the comment, flicking your ear and shoving you before you caught your footing and she'd already taken off down the aisle.

"grace!" you groaned in annoyance as she'd grab things and all but throw them at you to put in the cart. "we don't need that." you sighed for what felt like the tenth time, trying to keep a track of your budget in your head which felt ten times harder the more random items appeared in the cart.

"this is why i don't bring you with me when i go shopping. we do not need three cans of pringles!" you put them back on the shelf ignoring your girlfriends complaining, pretending not to notice when she snuck one of them back in with a gleeful smile.

"heads up!" you spun around hearing a familiar voice as you were almost done, in the final aisle now as grace barely had a second to brace before her best friend was launching onto her back sending her stumbling over and almost to the floor.

"celine! get off me you rat." your girlfriend huffed shrugging her off as the norwegian grinned, greeting you with a smile as the two messed around for a moment discussing tomorrows game.

"might want a few more of those, the way that you put them away the other night!" your head whipped up at that as grace dumped a bag of her favourite chocolates into the cart. "she what?" you raised an eyebrow and grace elbowed the girl with a subtle shake of her head.

"yeah! after team drinks, we went back to your place and played fifa and you were just eating chocolate after chocolate after choc-" "well so lovely seeing ya celine, but we best be off!" grace shoved the girl as her boyfriend appeared, sending her a filthy glare before hurrying to grab the cart off you and hastily wheeling it away.

"so you ate your own chocolates you've been accusing me of the entire day!? you get back here clinton!"

[pricegouge]

cw: fat femme reader. shitty tinder dates. alcohol mentioned but not consumed. that's it. written on my lunch break and unedited so mind the mess

divider by @/cafekitsune | taglist @pricegouged

You're on your second drink when you swear off dating apps altogether. 

Dylan - fine, normal, everyday, run-of-the-mill Dylan - had exposed himself fairly early as too fine and normal, and therefore boring, which wouldn't have been too big a problem if he hadn't also been leaning further and further into the asshole category with each passing minute.

The snide little comment about your weight would be enough to send you packing early under any normal circumstances, except you'd been an idiot who'd let him pick you up so you needed a ride home, and why pay for an Uber when you can be mean right back?

It takes you a moment to arrive at that conclusion, though, stopping mid sip of your water to arch your eyebrows at this pathetic little thing before you with enough force to have him backpedaling. You watch him flounder for a moment, considering your options, not listening at all as he tries to clarify that he's 'into it, though - big girls, that is'.

You roll your eyes away from him, pretend to watch the highlight reel of last night's match from where it plays on the outdated CRT in the corner. It's not even a good place for a date, really, a self-serve popcorn machine in the corner offering pre-fingered snacks and a low liquor shelf behind the bar suggesting you'd best be thirsty for something with no more than three ingredients. You're not exactly the snooty type, but you suddenly realize you should maybe learn to know your worth better because you cannot ever sit across the table from someone who's read The Game ever again. One more time might kill you, funeral expenses legally billable to Neil Strauss and everything. 

Except your new standards will have to be enacted in the morning because you suddenly refuse to spend a fucking dime on this terrible outing.

Dylan still looks slightly panicked when you turn back to him with a shy little affected smile and a demure batting of your eyelashes. You watch in real time as his expression shifts from pure panic at a gamble ventured and lost, to surprised delight when he thinks it's paying off. You let him keep thinking that, draw quiet and reserved the more dinner draws on though jokes on you there, because that just means you have to hear him talk more and it's a struggle to pretend you don't find the damn coasters more interesting than him at this point. 

(They're cardboard and growing waterlogged from condensation, the local brewery's logo becoming easily peelable. It's become your mission to get a clean pull by the end of his long winded ramble, though he's so invested in hearing himself talk that you surpass your goal twice, peeling both the front and back off the coaster and sticking the limp paper to your glass, pressing out air bubbles with your fingers like you're carefully applying proper labeling. He doesn't stop talking until your glass is labeled front and back, real professional.)

When he asks if you're ready to go you perk up like a dog hearing its favorite word. You wanna go for a ride? Hm? You ready to go home, girl? Your nod is bobble-headed, eager. You let him misread it because you're an asshole and because you did say in your profile that you weren't looking for hookups so really it's his own fault if he blue balls himself. 

The ride back is short, easy. You don't know if it's better or worse that he doesn't bother flirting with you here or test your expectations with a cheeky little hand on your thigh. Instead, his grip remains carefully at ten and two and you're grateful he's not touching you, really, but you know what he expects from you in a matter of mere moments, hours, whatever, and it pisses you off that he doesn't even bother warming you up to the idea by grabbing a feel of those 'big thighs' he's 'into.' So you let yourself stew, fuel for the fire, and you fiddle with his heat controls just because you can. 

If he was so dead set on ending this night all hot and wet, you could help him with that at least.

Sweat beads at Dylan's temple when he pulls into the intricate webbing of drives which make up your apartment complex. It's a nice enough place, one you can only afford with the help of one too many roommates. The steep rent is worth it though for nights like tonight, when apprehension begins to pool in your belly as you try to steel yourself for the small confrontation you're about to initiate. Dylan may have been a little weasel but he wasn't exactly contentious so you're not expecting anything too major to come of this, but it's reassuring to see so many people still out and about enjoying the cool fall evening. It's still fairly early, mothers only just heading back from the park with their double wide buggies taking up half the drive. They shoot Dylan ugly looks as he passes, just a hair too fast for their unofficial neighborhood watch. At least you know they'll be on your side if he really starts to act up.

Dylan does not need reminding which specific branches lead to your building, rolling to a stop next to your own car which you try not to look at with any familiarity. You may have already made the mistake of giving him your address, but every morsel of information he might glean about you now feels like a theft, and even what you had for breakfast is suddenly a dark secret you'd like to keep from him for no real reason. 

It's hard looking at Dylan now too, the shyness you'd been playing up before all of a sudden a very real obstacle as your eyes wander your building's facade, as if even you aren't certain which bay window is yours. Your lights are all off, you note with some annoyance, your roommates not home despite the fact they said they would be. 

'Up all night waiting for you,' Carren had winked, her big cheeky smile something you've never had cause to mistrust before. You gotta work on your naivete. 

Your eyes keep moving, resolved not to give away even your apartment number by being too obvious. They catch on the patio next door, however, when you spot your neighbor Kyle sitting on his Adirondack chair, smoking a cigarette as he watches this new car pointedly, doing nothing to hide his curiosity. 

If you had been smart you would've told Dylan to pick you up a few buildings down so he wouldn't even have the proper section, but the relief you feel at seeing your sweet, hot, extremely fit neighbor outside playing guard dog more than makes up for your mistake. So much so that your fingers don't falter when they find the handle, emergency release ready to be disengaged. You turn back to Dylan with a too-sweet smile and thank him for dinner again, already leaning out the door when he stutters something about having a good time.

"Yeah, me too," you call over your shoulder, beelining it for Kyle's patio because you've had enough drinks in that vacant chair across from him to know you're always welcome, especially in a situation like this. Sure enough, Kyle perks up when he sees it's you climbing out of the strange car, and then furrows his brow over your shoulder when you hear Dylan climbing out after you. Some snivelly little creature you've been trying to kill since you turned eighteen holds the reins when you turn back to him despite your better instincts, your need to avoid a scene outweighing everything else in that moment.

Your date's facade is visibly crumbling now, his frustration obvious in the set of his jaw and the sweat at his temples. You wonder if perhaps the thermostat had been a bit much and then immediately decide you don't care when he stammers something about maybe coming in for a glass of something nicer than what the restaurant had to offer. 

Presumptuous. "I don't," you blurt, only continuing when he blinks at you in confusion, "drink anything nice, that is." Across the lawn, you think you hear Kyle snort.

"Uh… coffee?" Dylan asks, just as stubborn as you.

"Gave up caffeine," you lie, trying not to think about the lovely mocha creation Kyle will likely offer you momentarily when you tell him you've got a splitting headache.

To his credit, Dylan doesn't quite pout. "Right. Well. Do this again sometime?"

And you're already on a roll with the lies so you just carry right on with them, chirping out a high, "Sure!" before trying to turn on your heel.

But you're out of niceties when a firm grip on your shoulder keeps you in place, Dylan's scraggly mustache looming into your space as you watch his lips pucker in horror. 

"Oh I'm good, thanks!" you squeak, yanking yourself out of his grip. A laugh bubbles out of you afterward, uncomfortable but still amused by your own reaction. Your satisfaction only grows when Dylan begins to look genuinely pissy. This was exactly what you wanted to avoid but you're past the point of caring.

"Is that it, then?" Dylan huffs, taking a daring step forward. 

You slide back, lock step. "'Fraid so."

"Even after I bought you dinner?"

"And made me feel bad about eating it?" You scoff. "Yeah."

"I drove all the way out from -."

"What's all this?"

You're not sure who jumps more at Kyle's sudden appearance. He hovers by your shoulder, a silent type of fury pulling at his pretty face. You forget sometimes he's military, his general geniality always setting you at ease. It makes this new version of him all the more frightening, a lethal force sitting pretty at your side. 

This is what makes the rent worth it, honestly.

"Kyle, this is Dylan. My date for the night."

Kyle hums, clearly unconcerned with the specifics. "Well, night's over."

You smirk up at where the sun still lingers over the horizon, pale behind its cloudy cover but present all the same. "Indeed."

"Piss off, mate," Dylan tries, his voice sterner than you'd originally given him credit for. 

You raise your brow at him but Kyle doesn't even bother. He turns to you and smiles, eyes crinkling around the corners, much too tight to be natural. "Luvie, will you go get us some drinks? Sliding door's unlocked."

Part of you rankles at the dismissal, but a bigger part of you does indeed want to be done with this horrible man so you nod, wave a sarcastic two finger salute at Dylan and finally make your way back across the lawn, slipping into Kyle's warm and cozy apartment with a sigh of relief. 

For all the friendly patio drinks you've had with him since moving in, you've never actually stepped foot in Kyle's place. You take a moment to admire it, noting the cleanliness and a tidiness which undeniably spoke of a military career. Still, small concessions to his personality dotted the walls and surfaces. A fresh laundry scented candle, a stack of blu-rays, framed pictures of people you've never met all grinning happily. You spot Kyle's same smile reflected back at you from all these different faces, his entire family evidently blessed with that thousand watt grin and you wonder how one camera could sustain all those lumens being beamed at it.

The layout matches yours, simply reflected. You find the kitchen easily, again noting the cleanliness with a nod of approval. Someday he'd retire and settle down, make someone extremely happy. You could only hope you would be long gone by then because the jealousy might truly drive you to desperate measures. Like taking Tinder back up again, for example. The notion draws you to the kitchen window, quest for beverages all but forgotten when you see Kyle leaning over Dylan's shoulder as the latter man flips through his phone. You frown in confusion, drawing closer to the window as Kyle reaches out and starts poking around your date's phone on his own. It's cracked open, crisp fall breeze whistling through. It drowns out the noise of the conversation but you try anyway, ears straining for any word whispered between the two. A moment passes, another. Dylan becomes increasingly agitated while Kyle stays the picture of controlled severity. You don't hear either of them at all until Kyle's eyes dart to the apartment, finding yours instantly. You gulp, feeling as if you've been caught despite not actually doing anything wrong anyway, and suddenly Kyle's veneer breaks like a thunder cloud. He claps Dylan on the shoulder heavily, turning his beaming smile on the smaller man and calling him a good lad.

Dylan mutters something indiscernible and turns back towards his car, resolutely ignoring as Kyle calls out overly friendly farewells. The engine rips to life, a low growl which suggests it's in dire need of an oil change. Still, it bravely fires up and carries Dylan away, Kyle turning back to you with a roll of his eyes which seemed to say 'this fuckin' guy.'

You grin at him, rolling your eyes right back before ducking your head, suddenly bashful under your neighbor's full attention. Drinks forgotten, you meet him at the door and thank him profusely, ignoring the way he tries to wave it off as if it was nothing,

"No, seriously, Kyle, that was very much appreciated. Probably not necessary but appreciated anyway. Please let me know if there's ever a way I can make it up to you."

And now Kyle's smirk is salacious. Great. "Well, you can join me for that drink I requested to start," he laughs, waving you back into his apartment. "Then you can tell me what you were doing on a date with a guy like that."

"Hm," you hum, already given in but thinking of how you can get what you want out of him first. Your scheming has already worked out so well for you tonight, after all. "Sure, but first you gotta tell me what you were doing on his phone."

He doesn't even miss a beat. "No can do. Top secret stuff."

"Oh," you scoff, allowing yourself to be corralled toward the couch. It's surprisingly soft, instantly cocooning you the moment you slump into it. A woven blanket hangs over the back of it which you wonder if Kyle would mind you using, if he'd get a kick out of returning from the kitchen to find you curled up like you owned the place. Probably, he wouldn't because he's much too nice to you always. "Potential terrorist threat was he?"

"He did fit the profile," Kyle calls back from the kitchen. 

You laugh, decide if he's allowed to call your date a terrorist then you're definitely allowed to use his blanket. His fault for leaving the window open on such a cold day. As expected, Kyle seems completely unbothered when he returns moments later, your favorite mocha monstrosity in one hand and his standard plain, sweetened coffee in the other. He holds your drink out of your reach teasingly however until you admit you'd met Dylan on a dating app and he tuts, relenting your drink to you almost as an apology for what you've had to go through.

"Why are you even on those things?" he asks, slurping at his coffee noisily. It's a funny habit of his, one he somehow manages to make endearing. 

Though, looking like that, you imagine he could probably make booger picking endearing.

"Well, Kyle, some of us aren't quite as naturally charming as you."

He smirks, doesn't bother to deny it. Cocky asshole. "Don't sell yourself short, I'm sure plenty of men would love to have their blankets stolen by you." He winks, hand reaching out to pluck at the weave which drapes over your shoulder. His hand lingers there, warm even through the layers, and your laugh dies in your throat, comes out as a strangled scoff.

"Well. Keep it a little warmer in here and your guests wouldn't have to make themselves at home uninvited."

Kyle's smile is softer this time, dangerously handsome. "You're always invited, pet."

And try as you might to be witty, you can't quite come up with a response to that. Kyle doesn't seem to need one, though, slurping at his coffee as he settles in, far too close. The hand which had been at your shoulder settles lower, palm warm where he kneads at your thick thigh experimentally. You'd laugh at the irony if your brain wasn't too busy turning somersaults trying to make sense of what's happening. Surely your neighbor Kyle - sexy, sharp, nice Kyle - isn't coming onto you.

Right?

But then he's leaning forward and placing his mug on the table, his thick fingers guiding your own mug to your mouth for a quick, stunned sip before pulling it away again and placing it next to his own. He's facing you now, full on, his big dark eyes gleaming with mischief. 

"I was making him delete all your contact info. Earlier. And then I made him deactivate his account," Kyle laughs, an infectious thing which gets you giggling too.

"Not willing to subject other girls to him?"

"I don't take chances," Kyle confirms, voice solemn as a vow. "But what about you, pet? What do I gotta do to convince you to delete yours?"

Given you'd already planned on deleting it, you should really just tell him you've already learned your lesson and there's no need to do anything at all. But your scheming has only yielded a fifty percent success rate tonight and you'd rather go for broke than break even so you just smile, wondering if Kyle saw your no-hookups stipulation on your profile before making Dylan unmatch earlier. 

You hope not.

"I don't know, it might take a lot of convincing."

[hannieween]

the soulkeeper’s betrayal — prologue

When Jun realizes that something has gone awry in his kingdom, he has no choice but to ask for help from his estranged wife. Though not without paying a price.

› pairings: wen junhui x female reader › aus: hades jun, king jun, exes to lovers, husband jun › genres: angst, fantasy, fluff, smut (18+) [none in this part] › word count: 661 words

› 🎧: things we lost in the fire – bastille | nfwmb – hozier | end of the affair – ben howard | lover please stay – nothing but thieves | conspiracy – paramore | only – ry x | cosmic love – florence + the machine | caught up – sights & sounds, nicole dollanganger . . . listen on spotify

› this fic is part of the greek gods collab ✧

» read more

no warnings apply in this part

› prologue, the journey

The morning felt stale under a colorless sky, announcing a cold and cloudy day ahead. A soft whooshing sound preceded the breeze that swept through the forest, rustling the leaves of the timber trees.

The leaves had begun to turn a vibrant shade of yellow, the King noticed. As he gazed at the land before him, he felt the urge to bend down and pick up the leaves that had begun to blow around his feet in the wind, creating a soft, crumpled blanket on the ground. 

He paused for a moment, aware that the wind was whispering something from afar. It carried with it the distant, melodic calls of phoebes, their voices echoing through the crisp air of the morning.

Junhui tilted his head forward, allowing the cool breeze to brush and sweep between his eyelashes as he closed his eyes. With a gentle, respectful gesture, he bowed to the wind, feeling its whispers in his brown hair.

The earth would gradually grow barren and lose the sweetness of spring. This was familiar to him; he had witnessed the signs time and time again. Yet this time it carried a significant weight—it meant that you were on your way here, it meant that you were coming home for the very first time since you had met. 

With a deep, steadying breath, he straightened his neck, feeling the anticipation rising within him, he felt an exhilarating rush of energy coursing through him. Slowly, he opened his eyes to the land stretching before him. 

Paradise. Where the sunlight seems almost tangible, it rises but never reaches its zenith. Colorful waves of grass stretch far and wide, dotted with small mounds of tiny white flowers, inviting anyone to rest their head on them.

This place was beautiful. At least this side of his kingdom was tranquil and robust with color. The birds choose to seek shelter and sleep here. It is where the souls who were granted peace would grow quiet and witness the king of the lands spend his mornings.

The place reminded him of a long-lost childhood. The music from the phoebes, the cold but gentle breeze. He wanted to run, he wanted to become one with the wind and not feel anything at all.

But alas, the dread came.

“What are you doing here, Clotho?” he asked, his voice was low and raspy from not speaking to anyone in what felt like months.

“It is time. Must follow tradition,” she said with a gentle tone, but Junhui knew better. He knew she was pressing on the importance of your arrival there. One of the Fates, only doing her work, but vague as to how to be tactful. 

“I am aware of that. Thank you,” he replied, turning to face her, turning his back on the land.

Her pale face looked stricken with worry and embarrassment as she lowered her eyes to the ground. “Forgive me.”

Jun raised his gaze to the silvery sky, trying not to roll his eyes. “You have nothing to apologize for,” he said coldly. “You’ve done nothing wrong.”

Clotho frowned. Those around him saw his apathy, and they took it as a sign that he was grieving his break-up with you. They were right; his heart was heavy with sorrow, even if he refused to show it. Beneath the surface, a storm of grief raged within him, slowly consuming him, even if he wore a mask of calm.

You came into his life in the most devastating way imaginable. Like a merciless wave, washing away everything that preceded you, leaving only you. Your arrival was not only abrupt, but it was like a shock that altered the course of his existence, forcing him to deal with the remains of the things you made him feel.

But then he lost you, all because of a lie. Now, as autumn slowly awakened, you were coming to him; it was time to make amends.

Only if you let him.

› author's note: heeeey (❁´◡`❁)

this is the prologue to a one shot i have planned to release on november 16th!

this is kind of a challenge for me because i never write detailed descriptions of places. i hope you like this one-shot. hehe

toodles!

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