#THAT IS PURELY A LOVE STRUCK LOOK ARE YOU KIDDING ME

[bicheetopuff]

WHAT IN THE SHOJO MANGA ARE THESE PANELS?!!!

[fillinforlater]

Maknae Royale

Male Reader x Jang Wonyoung, Wang Yiren, Lee Gahyeon, Park Sujin (Swan), Jeon Somi, Shin Yuna, Kim Yerim (Yeri), Im Yeojin (9some)

Length: 10.000 words

Tags: live action porn, porn game, fucking for points, Team Battle Royale, squirting kink, edging kink, bimbofication, brat taming, doggy, fingering, face riding, blue balling, jerking you off, titfuck, standing sex, step-bro I'm stuck, anal, creampie, anal creampie, eating out, blowjob, face fucking, deep throat, rough sex, missionary, full nelson, against the wall, piledriver, mating press, overstimulation, porn_star!you / porn_rookies!idols

TW: even after editing, this is messy and chaotic and pure sex lol

Inspiration: the idea of a Maknae focused fic is not new, but I just went all in. This is also based on this vote I send out a while ago lol. I think I can name drop @writerpeach cuz I remember him saying sth like that.

Credit: @erospandemos for the cover art! Thabk you very much!

(A/N: One year after C.Ollection, I'm trying my best to celebrate and repeat that craziness, have fun! The beginning is a reference to Labyrinth of the Six. This is the same universe but not a sequel!)

-

"I was looking for copper and I found gold!"

You turn off the purring engine of your car. It is clearly not as nice as the purring of the girl you were in balls deep mere minutes ago, but let's be honest, those purrs should not be compared; one is mechanical, the other borderline maniacal. You let out a sigh as you kill the annoying lights in your car to focus on the call you just accepted.

"Hi, is this really how you're greeting me?" you respond, letting your fingers glide over the steering wheel as you watch a single car pass by in the middle of this warm, humid night.

"Oh, man, stop complaining!" the director says and laughs. You can hear him type something on an old keyboard, each tap of his fingers obnoxiously loud. "I'm going to give you the opportunity of a lifetime—something this great, it needs no greeting."

You rub your nose, then the inside of your eyes filled with tiredness and exhaustion. She was needy tonight, you gave her two rounds, 140 minutes of a hard pounding until the clock struck a merciless 3am. Yes, you were counting the minutes, it was necessary. Otherwise Jiwon’s cunt would have drained you early, which is unbecoming of a porn actor of your caliber.

"Look," you halt the director's enthusiasm with a groan. "I'm doing good right now. Money—I got enough; my love-life is good too. Maybe I'll take a break for a couple of months until my next—"

"No, listen!" he shouts in absolute excitement, like he has been enlightened by the truth. "This script, it's so fucking good! It lit a fire in me, I can already see the setting, the actresses, you—it's perfect. This can even top your Labyrinth performance—you remember, the six hotties—"

"Of course I do!" There you go. Your heart beat is picking up in tempo. How could you forget the pleasure, the absolute thrill of having sex with six gorgeous women at the same time? Don’t kid yourself, this already felt like one in a million—to flat out reject another offer that could be of this magnitude would be absolutely foolish. “Fuck it. Send me the script, I’ll get back to you.”

“Oh, you will,” the director says, absolutely certain that you will accept in a heartbeat after reading this ominous script. “I’ll start looking for actresses.”

#

The script is complex, wild, otherworldly—implementing it took weeks of preparation. Luckily, your part in this clusterfuck is rather simple: be hard, go hard and stay hard. The first two are deeply rooted within you. Seeing the girls’ incredible faces and even greater bodies has you ready to get a raging erection at any time, while some of their slutty mannerisms and lewd words dripping from their tongues like venomous drool urge you to go as hard and rough as you can. Hell, they’ll basically beg for you—why would you hold back?

The only issue is that there are too many of them. No matter how hot they are or how horny you are, at some point there is nothing left. You will be drained and there is no shame in admitting defeat to them. So once again, you’ll have to resort to some performance enhancers to stay hard like a diamond while drilling into cave after cave. It’s a pink pill this time, tiny, you barely notice it, both in the palm of your hand and in your throat. Take a deep breath and feel it surely doing its job already. 

You open your eyes in the midst of a studio room that looks like a submarine. Dim light, large, black holes around you, each with a large porthole-like door in the middle; it feels gloomy, mysterious, unsettling. A single camera is pointed at you, live streaming each droplet of sweat running down your face. Feel the artificial warmth of a nearby heater creep up your thin clothes, giving you chills. It cannot match the heat within you.

The red light atop the camera turns off. Sixty seconds from now, one of the portholes will open. The glass in them is blurry, obscuring any view of the chaos happening behind them. You of course know the script inside out, but the girls’ are still somewhat unknown. You’ve never seen them face to face, only in zoom calls, their bodies looked fantastic and because they are rookies, they should also be tight, but you don’t know how they will handle the pressure, all the eyes on them, the revealing outfits, the unbridled sex—

Around thirty seconds now. You grab your trousers and feel blood rushing out of your legs. Feet tingle, the tips of your fingers as well. This pill, it has your heart racing somewhere, racing from something, to anything. Eyes tremble, vision blurrier than the glass before you, behind you, around you. 

You’ve never felt more alive and dead at the same time.

With a loud hiss, the porthole to your left swings open, wide open, flooding your entirely empty room with copious amounts of fog and the smell of fresh fruits. The vibrant color scheme of pastel pink, magenta, light purple and white fills your view as you step into what looks like Princess Peach’s private castle, its kitchen, living room and bedroom. It’s like one explosion of cuteness and innocence, quite charming, very fake.

“Oh, he’s already here. Look, Barbie!”

“That’s not my name, Yiren. Hello, handsome stranger!”

The two girls fit the concept of the room perfectly. Such bright smiles, happiness pouring from their cute little faces; you knew they would nail this performance the moment you saw their pictures and heard their voices. Wonyoung, the tall girl with her incredibly long legs truly looks like a Barbie doll: tiny ribbons adorn her endless chocolate hair while the pink crop top and straight denim skirt make you want to play with her all night, undress her everywhere.

Yiren on the other hand blends in with the room to such a degree, you’d assume they cannot be sold separately. The chinese girl boasts hair the color of peaches, her tight white dress sparkles because of small, silver details spread across it, while her face leaves no doubt that she is, in fact, a princess. 

The two get closer to you, before Wonyoung starts to speak up again, her voice in a sassy, yet genuinely adorable pitch.

“Aw, are you shy? No need to be, we’re all here to have fun. Isn’t that right, Yiren?”

“You’re right, Barbie. Let’s play some games and make it a night we won’t forget,” Yiren adds, quieter and calmer than Wonyoung, with a smile that warms the heart.

“S-sure,” you respond to the two girls bouncing up and down in front of you like hyped up kangaroos. “B-but what are we going to play?”

“You see,” Wonyoung starts. “Yiren and I are a team and we have a mission to fulfill. Can you help us?”

“I’d love to, but what is the mission?”

Yiren turns towards Wonyoung, who’s already grinning at her. They share a nod and Yiren suddenly wraps herself around one of your arms, while Wonyoung occupies the other. Feel their slender bodies rub on your limbs, their natural heat and rapid heartbeats working towards your own, increasing it with every step they guide you towards a bed in the corner of the room. It’s at least double queensized, filled with pillows, blankets and stuffed animals.

“Let me explain it to you,” Wonyoung says and climbs atop the purple sheets. “Our mission is to make this bed as wet as possible.”

“Well that sounds easy,” you respond. “Just get some tap water and dump it on here.”

“That’s what I thought too,” Yiren whispers in your ear and suddenly places her hands all over your back and chest. 

“No tap water, only natural juices are allowed,” Wonyoung hums and her hands casually open her skirt. It falls on the bed and she is quick to kick it away. She looks even more tempting and ruinable in her tiny tight panties with a wet teddy bear on the front. “We need your help to get these juices out of us, pretty please?”

“Yes, pretty please?” Yiren adds and cups the bulge in your pants. “It will be so much fun, I promise. Doesn’t Barbie look tight? Don’t you want to fuck her until she bursts?”

“Fuck, yes.”

“Splendid,” Wonyoung laughs and throws away her crop top as well. Meanwhile Yiren finds the hem of your pants and tugs them down oh-so easily, the only resistance is your hard member, which Yiren promptly points at her team partner who has her legs spread invitingly. 

She’s so hot.

As if she read your mind, Yiren tempts you into finally going hard:

“She looks so hot. Go fuck her.”

Like a tiger desperate for food, you crawl onto the bed and tackle your prey into a mountain of teddy bears. Your fingers find the very specific teddy bear on Wonyoung’s panties, you push it to the side to find a pink slit. A final look at her glistening eyes before you press your cock onto her equally glistening slit and after some adjustments, you enter her. 

Wonyoung shrieks cutely, her thin fingers wrap around your biceps’ and she holds onto them as you start to slowly pump into her. The two of you need time to realize where you are, what you’re doing, how you’re doing it. All acting for the camera is gone in this bliss, at least for a couple of seconds. Then it all comes back with Yiren, eagerly who jumps on the bed as well.

“You need to hurry up, we don’t have forever.”

You slip a hand under Yiren’s dress to quickly shut her up. No panties.

“How about you start helping, princess,” you fight back. “Go rub Wonyoung’s clit while you ride my fingers. Oh, and Wonyoung.”

“Ye-yes?” the young girl moans.

“Open your mouth wide. I need you to drool on these.”

Both Yiren’s pussy lips and Wonyoung’s normal lips—though their lusciousness and thickness is far from mere ‘normal’—part as soon as your fingers graze them. The latter is quick to slobber all over them while you recklessly pump them into her; Yiren still has reservations and instead opts to look at you with adorable glassy eyes.

“I-I feel so full,” she moans, shivers throughout her entire body. You softly smile at her and start to curl your fingers, purposefully dragging them alongside her walls while your palm reaches her clit. “Ah, i-it feels—”

Holy shit. Whatever chemical they put into this pill, it has a tendency to just kill your patience. In what can only be described as a loss of all control, your body only moves towards fulfilling the mission. Your fingers start to violently pump into Yiren’s pussy and Wonyoung’s mouth, both quickly spilling liquids out of them. Especially Wonyoung, the Barbie girl below you, becomes a dispenser of juices when you violently fuck into her tight pussy.

“Too fast, ah!” Yiren screams, her hands wrapped around your wrist, unable to prevent the surge of lust in your body. 

“Fuck, sorry. I can’t stop me.” You groan, not really sorry about the stuff happening to you, to them and—oh God! Wonyoung���s tiny frame, those cute hard abs, get bulged by your massive erection. A bit of skin and muscles, pushed up by your relentless thrusts, and she is also seeing it. Is she panicking, losing her mind to how you violate almost her entire body?

Her pussy is quick to give you an answer: like a broken, public fountain, she shoots water at you, suddenly soaking your body in her warm pussy juices. With their strong, lewd smell they are the perfect liquid to stain the sheets, more than your balls or her drool can produce. Much to your dismay, most of the nectar gets stuck on you. 

“Fuck, turn around,” you command the thin fuckdoll and because she is too enamored by her heavy orgasm—her tiny thighs and long legs trembling up high in the air—you grab her hips and spin her around. Now in Doggy, you keep her upright by pulling her chestnut colored hair and plunge back into her still twitching cunt.

Wonyoung is completely overwhelmed. Instead of the cute, girlie moans you’d expect from her pretty lips, she grunts uncontrollably, her voice still hoarse from your fingers that played with her mouth. The grunts, however, are nothing compared to the wet sounds coming from her pussy as you thrust into the warm cavern, desperate to get more out of it. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” both you and Wonyoung groan. The tips of her fingers dig deep into a soft stuffed toy while yours knead her soft butt. The sight of it is amazing; not a big dumpy, like you’ve seen on countless actresses, but so flawlessly smooth with an impossibly tiny asshole you one day need to get your tongue into.

“Pl-please, me-me too.”

Yiren crawls closer to you, her skirt pulled up, her cunt a leaking mess that needs something inside it. The live action fucking in front of her has her on the edge, ready to do her part to fulfill the mission, but you are too mesmerized by Wonyoung. 

“Wony, lick her pussy. Get your tongue into her, fuck!” you shout, lost in your frenzy.

The barely thinking, barely functioning Barbie gets her hands onto Yiren’s thighs, at first only breathing, hissing, moaning into the princess’ crotch. It’s enough for Yiren to finally take the lead, forcing Wonyoung’s face straight onto her puffy lips, and the younger surrenders. She kisses and licks all over Yiren’s delicious cunt, the bundle of nerves atop it never left out. Yiren shudders.

“Oh God, oh Go~d, fuck!”

Yiren is louder than a fucking bomb when she explodes onto Wonyoung’s face and more importantly, the bed. Her nectar splashes all over the sheets, their color darkening beneath her knees. Finally, the three of you have made significant progress, and you are eager to make more. Especially Wonyoung seems to be more turned on than before; her pussy is even tighter, her walls ripple as she continues to eat Yiren out. 

“You like that, huh? Your face deep in her pussy?” you ask her and give her cute ass a firm spank. “Such a dirty princess!” 

“Yesh!” Wonyoung shouts, pressing her behind into your pistoning cock. 

“You like my cock fucking you senseless, getting into your insides? You want it all, deeper?”

“Yesh, pleash!”

“Try to push me out, Wonyoung, squeeze me with your stupid little pussy!”

“Ah, shit, fuck! I’m—”

Yiren shuts her team partner up by grinding on her face. It’s enough to send Wonyoung into an orgasmic frenzy—again—and the moment you pull out, she squirts—again—everywhere. It was amazing, absolute bliss for you, but you are not there yet. You need to cum, inside a hot, clenching hole and so you disrupt the two princess’ love making.

Yiren fits perfectly into your hand. She is almost as light as Wonyoung, so you pick her up and place her on the head of the bed. The young woman is still frozen in surprise, her eyes uncertain, then shocked when you spread her legs wide and align your cock with her pussy.

“Oh God, it’s t-too big,” she whines even before you’re inside her.

“You can take it, Yiren, you’re such a good and pretty princess,” you mindlessly groan as you stare at her, then her nipple peeking out above her increasingly bunched up dress. “Now cum all over me.”

Yiren is too easy. Only a few strokes of your cock alongside her velvety walls and her entire body ripples. It starts with her cunt, soon goes to her torso and limbs, before she squirts like a broken garden hose. If the bed was a garden, countless flowers would bloom in it—and Wonyoung wants to make sure you stay to help them. 

“You have to stay,” she whines. “Stay inside her and make her cum again.” She pushes you, forces you to almost slip inside Yiren again. From the corner of your eye however you see a red light, the indicator that you have to switch scenes right now.

“I think I did enough.” You pull away Wonyoung’s slender arms and Yiren’s feet trying to get you back inside her. “Get some toys or use your fingers. I’m not playing for your team, you need to play together.”

Yeah, sure, something like that was in the script. Luckily, even these two remember that the show must go on. At least Wonyoung does. The Barbie gets handsy, waving you goodbye while plunging her beautiful, long fingers into Yiren's cunt. What a waste that you won’t cum on those digits tonight.

"Have fun~" Wonyoung cheers as you disappear from her view, towards the next porthole which is already open.

Before you can take in the next setting fully, a nude, masked woman greets you by pulling your face down into her sizable cleavage.

"Quick, get him in here," another voice, feminine yet deep, straightforward yet mysterious, calls and you feel hands all over your body, as they drag you into the room. You only catch glimpses of its interior, a dark, unsettling dungeon with iron bars and cold, smooth walls, akin to the setting of certain Japanese videos you—a friend of yours—used to watch—for scientific reasons.

"Here, pin him down."

That voice just now is truly incredible, if only you could see who it belongs to. Unluckily, you only get to see the ceiling as four hands throw you onto a table. Those two are strong, you think, because your back hurts at the impact.

Suddenly, your view gets replaced by a smooth pussy and jiggly thighs trapping your head on the wooden surface. You take deep breaths, the strong smell of arousal quickly filling your nose. A finger boldly flicks your cockhead.

"Oh, you're really turning him on, Gah," the other woman says, your pulsating cock in her fist. "Ride his face, and I think we’ll get our first points soon."

"Wh-who are you?" you barely squeeze out, words drowned out by drowning in Gahyeon's pussy juice.

"I'm Swan, but we don't have time for that. We need to win this game, which is why you have to suffer.

"Sorry, by the way."

Before you can respond, Swan's fist goes up and down your length with the violence and speed of a raging tiger, ready to fucking destroy you. Tears spawn in your eyes, precum at your tip. She drives you to the edge and keeps you there with rhythmic pumps while you imagine her face in horny delight.

"Is he there yet?" Gahyeon asks, her voice raspy and cruel.

"Why don't you ask him?" Swan responds and twirls her tongue around your balls. You twitch.

Gahyeon lifts a leg and her deadly eyes stare through a terrifying mask right at you. "Tell me when you're about to explode,” she snarks and to put emphasis on her following words, she presses a long finger nail into your abdomen. “If not, I'll kill you.

“And start licking, for fucks sake.”

She plants herself back down before you can answer. She can live with your eager tongue on her thick folds as an analogical agreement. Through Gahyeon’s almost soundproof thighs you hear her passionate groans and Swan’s continuous spitting in her hands and on your cock to get you wet and ready for more of her soft hands. 

You can’t deny that they are excellent. Yiren and Wonyoung both had tight, cozy holes, but something about Swan grabbing your dick and mercilessly pumping and twisting it makes your spine tingle. She quickly gets you to arch your back and moan into Gahyeon’s pussy, which has started to glide back and forth over your visage.

“Such a nice cock,” Swan moans. “Look at it, Gah! The head is already burning, I can feel that he’s close.”

Swan puts her second hand on your base and presses her lubed up palm on your underside while she starts to destroy your tip with violent pumps. She is a vicious succubus, trying to get your seed out efficiently without care for your sensitivity. With Gahyeon using your face like a saddle, your mind is left on hold when you loudly tap the table to signal your imminent arrival.

“Swan, now!”

The moment Gahyeon shouts, Swan is gone. No more delicate fingers to hold you, no more fists to jerk you, nothing to stimulate you. You thrust your hips up into air, unable to cum, unable to get your well-deserved release. Those fleeting seconds where you want only one thing are absolutely ruined by not getting this one thing—and then it’s over. You come back down with a devastated sigh. 

“That’s one,” Gahyeon says and looks down at you in between her legs. “But we need more.”

“I agree,” Swan says, adjusting her position in between your shivering legs. “Get him to cooperate, I’ll do the rest.”

Gahyeon once again is faster than your attempts at remonstration. She puts her small hand on your throat and carefully increases the amount of weight on it. You gasp in dread before Swan places your still hard cock in the valley of her enormous tits. The valley then turns to a compressed trap where only your glans peeks out. 

'Oh fuck', you want to, need to scream but it's futile with Gahyeon's enthusiasm to rub her labia on your lips. Swan shows a very similar need to torture you, her hands eagerly digging into the flesh of her melons and moving them up and down—both at the same time, then at different times, faster, then slower but with more pressure—is she trying to get you killed? 

Death by titfuck. That will be an eyecatching epitaph. 

"Do it faster," Gahyeon orders her teammate emphatically. "We need to get the score up."

"I know," Swan says, her voice a bit strained. "It's just unfair, you know? Getting him ready again and all that. But I think, fuck, we’re getting there. Look at his tip, isn't it cute?"

Swan licks the slit on your cockhead, cleaning the precum from it and you have to tap out again. You are so close once more, but a terrible gut feeling lets you doubt that you will cover Swan's tits with your cream. You’ve never felt so sick about being right, when she pops you free from the heavens between her large breasts.

They are right there, God dammit.

"That's number two!" Swan gleefully shouts and looks at your pole, pointing at the sky, sensitive and ready to explode, but your balls turn blue again. This can't be healthy, with how frustrated it makes you.

"Use your mouth this time, Swan—"

"Oh yeah? Why don't you do something for once?"

"Huh? We agreed on this earlier! I'm doing my part! Look, he can't even say a word."

"Pl-please," you interrupt the girls' discussion. "Let me, please, let me cum already!"

"Sorry, pal." Swan's voice is soft, and her tongue on your dick is even softer. "But we need to ruin you even more. That's how we're going to win."

"Th-then ruin your own orgasms," you plead with numbness in your mouth, caused by Swan's mouth on your barely numb manhood. "Th-this is cruel."

"He's got a point," Gahyeon thinks out loud. "Ah, fuck this game. If you can get me close, boy, I'll let you escape."

This might be your only chance to get out of this vicious cycle of ruined orgasm and painful edging. So you actually channel all your focus of your lips, tongue and teeth—whatever Gahyeon likes—on her clit. It's surprisingly easy to make her thighs around your ears squirm; Gahyeon's pussy is now wetter than Swan's mouth wrapped around your cockhead.

Suddenly, Swan gives you everything. She forces you to bottom out in her mouth, grow to full hardness once more while she violently gags. She might have been in absolute control over you for the last couple of minutes, but she is perfectly able to make her mouth a slutty hole for your cock. A soft, dominant deepthroat queen with massive tits—she is going to be a super star.

In a surge of ecstasy, fueled by Gahyeon's sweet juice, you buckle your hips upwards and force Swan to choke a little longer on your length. The young woman is not irritated however. After a single breathe she is back to going up and down you cock, sucking along it until your fucking dead. 

You know she's going to ruin it again and the only way to pay them back is by ruining Gahyeon's orgasm as well. You finger the pussy above you and quickly flick the blood-filled lips and nub, until she cries out. Then you stop, then Swan stops. She is the only one satisfied—another two points for her team.

You blink a couple of times. Gahyeon, groaning like an enraged bull, has the busty Swan pinned to the metal bars of this dungeon and with all her hatred, slaps the younger's wet cunt.

"Now it's your turn, bitch!"

"Ouch, stop!"

"No. I want to win and you want to win too, so you better ruin yourself on my fingers. Now!"

This is your cue to leave. The dungeon fills with Swan's deep grunts and groans as she finally gets to witness what she put you through again and again and again. You'd love to help Gahyeon; there will be no need for it though. The masked girl is willing to do whatever is necessary to win.

Across from the dungeon, the second to last door is already open. The room mimics a dimly lit laundromat with a dozen or so washing machines. You step inside, cock in your carefully stroking hand. After all, you’ll have to be hard for the next scene, which will be the complete opposite of the last. 

“Hello? Can somebody help me?” someone cries (let’s be honest, it’s much closer to a desperate moan) from behind a pile of freshly dried laundry atop a clothes rack. There is a sincere lack of intelligence in that cry, like said person is unable to help themselves. Makes you feel chivalrous. 

“Hey, how can I—help you?”

The sight you find behind the pile has your speech a bit halted, interrupted by how, in a room made for washing clothes, someone is severely lacking them: A gorgeous, busty blonde, in nothing but modest, white underwear, though you notice that the bra is at least a size too small and unable to fully carry the weight of her tits.

"Oh, please help me," she moans again. "I think I've picked the wrong bra for me. Can you help me cover so no one can see my boobies while I look for the next?"

What the fuck? This is so fucking stupid on so many levels. How could she—and why would she suggest—what is even happening? The cliche about blondes must be true, because this one is not only dumb as fuck, but also hotness at it's peak. From bust to bottom, no, even to her toes, her body is amazing and tempting.

"Uhm, sure, why not. Can I know your name first?" you politely ask while not so politely getting behind her and cupping her breasts.

"I'm Somi. Thank God your hands are so big, no one can see my boobies now, hihi."

Is it innate for her to sound this silly? If not for this setting, you’d be worried; no human can ever be this stupid, only a buffoon would act in such a way. But maybe Somi’s IQ is just a bit lower than the average person—or maybe she knows no boundaries? The rules of public decency and inappropriate, sexual exposure might be foreign to her? You don’t know. You just know that her boobs are soft and bouncy, two handfuls of pillows to rest your head upon, of stress balls to knead when you are, you know, stressed.

You seem to know a lot more than her, especially because she still tries to find a bra able to hold up her breasts in the midst of clothes which all have two things in common: they are colorful and they are skimpy. It’s like the laundry of a whorehouse with how many short and skin tight skirts, dresses, fishnet stockings you find, let alone the short tops or all the lingerie. Speaking of which, Somi has finally found a bikini top that might be able to do the deed your hands are gleefully doing. 

“Do you think this one is good?” she asks, holding up a new, purple bra while you slightly press at the bottom of her tits to watch them wobble on your finger tips. 

“Try it out, because I’m not so sure with your massive boobs.”

Somi giggles and tries to put on the bra. You leave enough room, really, you do, for her to tie up the thin strands, but Somi is unable to. She mewls a couple of times before you go in and securely tie up the strands yourself. You are promptly rewarded, because the blonde decides to bend down and press her ass back against your crotch, your exposed cock, rapidly hard again at the touch of her cotton panties. 

“Thank you, again,” Somi says and pushes her chest up for all to see. “What do you think, is this good?”

“Somi, is it possible that you are fucking stupid?” Oh, that sounded a lot harsher than it should have. The tension is quickly palpable. You hear someone gasp from the other end of the room.

“W-why?” Somi’s question is abashed, a bit shocked; even in this state of complete bimboness, she still looks so good. 

“Because these bottoms don’t fit your top,” you say and pull at the side of her panties until they snap off of her hips. “You should change them. White and purple don’t fit together all too well.”

Somi looks down at her cleavage, the purple lace engulfing her tits, then to her thighs which have been parted by your cock. The tip peaks from in between her legs and you softly groan out the pleasure her perfect gap gives you into her ear. There is no mere hint of slickness from her heat, there are ridiculous amounts of evidence of it, proof spreading all over. It’s a clear case of horniness, you better resolve the issue immediately. 

“You’re right,” Somi mumbles, thighs swaying. “I should look for the right bottoms. They should be in here.” Things couldn’t get any better, because now Somi is bending over, hands in the pile of clothes, while your hands are in the plentifulness of her ass. You hold her steady, align your cock with a hole that looks so ready to get fucked and then push forward. Somi almost stumbles forward, but you save her from making an even greater mess of this place by continuing to make a mess out of her. 

“Oh God,” she moans, a pink crop top in hands. “I-I can’t find it.”

“Continue, continue searching,” you groan back and slam your hips forward, then backwards, your cock entering and exiting her cunt at will—your will is strong, overpowering every small exhaustion in chase of that first true release of this messy pornographic shoot, a shoot where teams fight to win, yet this “team” does not even have a target goal.

Somi’s goal is to be stupid, oblivious to your cock gaping her pussy open time and time again, and for this being her first time on cam, she is excellent. Of course, her dumb moans can’t be deactivated, you doubt even a ball gag can fully do that, but a benevolent interpretation of this scene allows for these moans to be of desperation. Somi just really wants to find these purple bikini bottoms—your cock spreading her pussy and the camera lens on it is just a side product. 

“Da-damnit, fuck,” Somi seems to give up, defeatedly grabbing the edge of the table while you hold onto her shoulders to get faster, deeper inside of her. “They are not h-here.”

“Maybe you need to take a step back and look at it from afar,” you tell her and all it takes is a pull at her shoulders and Somi stands straight up. From now on, your thrusts go upwards and Somi can casually bounce along while her dizzy eyes try to process the color purple amidst a pile so colorful, every pride parade would become envious. 

Your arms instinctively wrap around Somi’s small waist. You need to keep her here, can’t let her get away, not when you are this close to finally cumming. Your balls are aching, your tip is stimulated and you know that it will be glorious. Somi’s body, from a face that could make news just for its beauty, paired with a pair of perky, large boobs, amplified by a tight, muscular midriff, killer hips and strong, full thighs, she has to be everyone’s type. 

People will click on her videos millions of times, yet you are about to be the first to cream her, you can call dibs on that pussy, no male rival co-star stands a chance. Your cock is ready, your legs able to give more power into the final thrusts when suddenly—

“Oh, I found it!”

—Somi leans forward, hand stretched out, ready to grab what has always been on top of this entire pile, in your view forever, in everyone’s view forever, only Somi took forever to find it: purple panties. No, they can’t ruin your perfect orgasm. You heartlessly push Somi against the table, head first into the laundry. Her scream now muffled by a dozen of clothes in her face, you manically fuck your load into her doggy until cum floods her cavern and clothes flood the laundromat floor.

Every part of you is twitching, so is Somi and her pussy. A bit more, a bit more, she squeezes out of you, but she is full. In the midst of all this chaos, this silly, flushed bitch was able to grab the panties. You give her tits a harsh slap to awaken her from the cock induced slumber. 

“Put them on, quick, before we make a bigger mess.”

Somi obliges, though shaky. You help her by holding onto her hips, her tits, all those things you could grab forever. When your shaft falls out of her pussy and you watch her catch most of your load with the tight panties, you want to push them to the side and just fuck her full pussy again. That’s when you notice someone down the aisle of washing machines—is it Somi’s teammate?

“Who the fuck is th—”

“Help, I’m stuck!”

This one is a classic. A trope so beyond stereotypical, everyone knows it. Just like the dumb blonde, this one can be found on every porn site ever. The only thing missing is that she calls you stepbro. That would be a bit too much though. Her ass sticking out of one of the washing machines while she absolutely tries to get back out of it is already cliche enough to you.

Oh yeah, she’s also completely naked.

“Oh no, Yuna is stuck!” Somi states the exposition for the viewer, who is utterly uninvolved in the engaging plot they stopped paying attention to since this video's thumbnail. “We need to help her!”

Somi waddles towards her partner. You see trails of cum running down her legs,  unceremoniously dropping to the floor and making a lewd, sticky mess of it. She seems unbothered, just like you, and the camera absolutely loves it. The view then switches from this to a new, exposed and impressively large ass.

“Help, help,” Yuna shouts again, metallic reverberation unable to dampen the stupidness in her voice. You had filmed a scene like this one already, but there are no complaints whatsoever. As long as you can get your hands on Yuna’s ass, pull those cheeks apart and get the first view of those two smooth, clean holes, why would you complain?

“How did this happen, Yuna?” Somi asks worriedly, arms alongside Yuna’s frame, definitely ‘pulling’ on her teammate's waist, while your mind imagines all the ways you could rim Yuna for hours.

“I wanted to pull my underwear out of here,” she responds with a whine. “But now I am stuck!”

Go figure, she is brainless as well. Both of them are, but nature has instead given them the envy of millions of women: divine bodies that are effortlessly sexy and beautiful. Smooth skin, toned legs, curves to die for—in your admiration you notice that your energy is returning quicker than ever before. 

It might not fit the story, the narrative, the game, but in this moment of bliss, you couldn’t care less. Knees bend, cock guided by your thumb, you press your tip against Yuna’s ring and find the entry into her asshole to be a lot easier than expected. Her moan bounces through the washing machine just like her boobs bounce in surprise. 

Confusion has Somi frozen, her body only reacting when you put force in your thrusts, enough power to make Yuna hit her dumb head against the back of the washing drum. A profuse whimper made metallic, not that you care, but Somi seems to get back into the real world where she is still as moronic as before. 

“H-how is this supposed to help Yuna?” 

It’s not. Tell her that. Tell her and Somi will continue complaining like this without getting any pleasure from you. Serves her right, won’t make the scene any better though, thus you find her neck with your hand and find her eyes with yours. They sparkle knowingly. 

“You really are the dumbest thing alive.”

A pull and Yuna is out of the drum. Blonde hair flows down her back, hides her frail shoulders and in the reflection of the metal drum you see her lips in a light, glistening pink. They are full and made for sucking. In the sea of her endless, golden hair, your hand twists and twists until Yuna voluntarily raises herself from the ground and arches her back towards you. Your goal is not to kiss her lips (though that would be one hell of an experience) but to drown her in Somi’s cleavage.

“What are you—Yuna! No, don’t pull it down, I-I just found it.”

Sweat evaporates from your temple when you see those lips wrap around one of Somi’s nipples and begin to lewdly suck on it. The thrill is engaging, Yuna’s ass invites you back in and it’s with ease that you fuck her puckered hole. You poke the depths of this suffocating cavern and Yuna begins to poke all over Somi’s body. The dumber blonde hesitates briefly, hands first on her thighs, then Yuna’s until she ends up below her friend. 

“Now you are trapped,” Yuna giggles and drool leaves her mouth in purposefully large amounts, able to transform the valley between Somi’s tits into a canal. 

“You two are so fucking stupid, fuck, fuck your hot bodies.”

You are starting to lose it, for every word they utter, your intelligence gets insulted but your arousal heightened. You spank Yuna’s ass and she tightens to the point where you need to give it your all to fuck her faster. What an odd time to notice that they haven’t told you their task yet. How can you help them get points? Shit, what was in the script again? Are you really that much smarter if you can’t remember?

“Yuna, Yuna, that feels so good,” Somi moans out and sways on the floor from side to side until you press Yuna right on top of her. With their incredible bodies entangled and you nonstop fucking into the tight ass, their sensitive spots have to rub each other, nipples on nipples, clits on clits, and Somi is the first to collapse. “Oh my God, I-I’m about to wet my panties, oh no, Yuna!”

“Me too, my butt, I’m going to cum from my butt!” Yuna’s silly fucked body, and her silly face and her silly feminine voice have you on the verge to become silly as well. Both blonde’s indulge in their wet, heavy orgasms and you push your tip back into Yuna so many times that you flood her with a pent up load that momentarily shuts down your brain.

So this is how they feel all the time—brainless but blissful. At least stupid bitches fuck good.

“Oh, Somi, there, there is so much in my ass~”

“Really? Can I feel it?”

Somi puts two fingers against Yuna’s puckered hole, but before she can get a scoop of your load that is still hidden in the tightly clenching butt, Yuna stands up. “No, Somi, ew,” Yuna shouts, moans, something in between, again. “You have to eat it straight from the butt, like this.”

You are back in the hub room, all the rooms finally open. Before you make your way to the last room, you decide to take a quick look into each scene you’ve already participated in that only users that buy the premium pass (which is off 69%, only today on k-jizzers.cum) can still watch: 

In the first room, Wonyoung and Yiren sit on the edge of the bed, fingering each other's pussies until they violently squirt all over the mattress. Both of them look sweaty and exhausted, but they continue to drink water and share saliva to go for another round. Stay hydrated, everyone.

“Let’s do this, Barbie, I know your tiny body can cum again!”

“O-okay, b-but only if you kiss me.”

In the second room, Swan is fully naked, her backside turned to you. She is tied to the metal bars with handcuffs on both of her wrists. Below her is Gahyeon, thrusting a dildo up into that tiny tight cunt, while her own hole is stuffed with a loud bullet vibrator. They are really committed to this game.

“I swear, Swan, if you cum again, I’ll kick your ass, literally!”

“S-sorry, Mommy, I try, try, try—I’m so close!”

In the third room, well, those blondes finally found a way to snowball your cum, not from mouth to mouth, but ass to mouth. Yuna sits on Somi’s face, head thrown back, unable to not moan as your white spunk oozes out of her. Bon Appetit. 

“Oh God, don’t put your tongue in!”

“But he tastes so good, let me be greedy this one time.”

The final room is a classroom, unmistakably. It has an old blackboard, a long desk for the teacher, smaller desks and chairs for the pupils. No matter when or where you’ve been to school, this will surely evoke memories of forgotten homework, endless lessons and bratty students.

 “Ew, is that the new guy?” you hear someone complain from across the room, disgust in her voice, fingernails rapidly typing on her phone. 

“Oh yeah, but what did you expect? At least he gives some big dick energy,” a response follows promptly, though this time they both look up from their phones and stare at you. You quickly find coverage behind the teachers desk to hide your manhood. A miserable attempt that has one of the girls outraged. 

“Ayo, what the fuck? Do you think you’re some kind of teacher now?”

“Maybe he is here to teach us a lesson, lol.”

Did the girl on the left, in her messed up blouse and way-too-short checkered skirt, the waistband of a light brown thong on display, just like her midriff and navel—did she just say ‘lol’ out loud? Well, at this point the viewer will neither cringe or notice, too good is this material, too hot their bodies. 

“Maybe he is here to teach you a lesson for breaking the dress code,” the girl adds as she approaches the desk. 

“Yeri, you—you’re worse than me! Everyone can see your bra, what the fuck,” the other girl shouts and goes in for a slap on Yeri’s butt. The impact has you peeking out as a small melee breaks out.

“At least I tried, Yeojin, unlike you. Where is your skirt, your blouse? I can almost see your tits.” Yeri reaches for Yeojin’s chest, which is covered by this tiny, one piece swimsuit, so tiny in fact, even Yeojin’s small body seems to spill out of it. When there is so much shortness, of course Yeojin’s shorts are no different. Her shorts are actually shorter than Yeri’s skirt, which is already quite short—

“You tried?” Yeojin shrieks and tugs at Yeri’s blouse, accidentally undressing her. Who could have known, the bra below is actually a bikini top. “It’s falling off of your body.”

“Ts,

“Hey, you fucker! Get out already, we got some beef to settle.”

Yeri kicks the desk and you hear pencils roll down from it. They surely have not forgotten about you and your assumed big dick energy, so it was no use to continue hiding. You crawl out and straighten your posture, clearly taller than the two young women who don’t waste time looking up and gawking at the height difference. Both sets of hands go straight to your abdomen, your crotch, your cock. Yeojin is the first to pump, rubbing her fishnet sleeves carelessly over your sensitive tip.

“Watch it,” you hiss and get fistfuls of their hair, which to your surprise does not faze them at all. “You two are running your mouth, spewing bullshit. This is no way how you should treat people older and taller than you.”

Yeri frees herself easily from your grasp and you gasp when her knuckles dig into your stomach. It wasn’t really a punch, but somehow, she has you stunned. A smirk appears on her feisty features. “Watch it, asshole. This is our classroom, you’re the one below us. If you want some respect, don’t flex with your height. Flex with something else. Proof your worth.”

“O-oh yeah? And how should I do this?”

“Fuck us,” Yeojin casually says and pulls back the skin on your cock to the point it hurts and all the surging blood forces you to peak stiffness. “You get points for every position, the more creative, the better. Show us that this thing is more ‘do-er’ than ‘show-er’.”

Their eyes are the epitome of ‘fuck-me’ eyes, hell, they imagined fucked you the moment you entered, and in your mind, you’ve fucked them in every conceivable way possible. With all this imaginary fuckery, it’s about due time for the real fucking to start, though it’s definitely bugging you that these small, bratty girls get to start it off and lead the way. 

Guess your positions have to be rough.

“Fine,” you sigh and get ready to push Yeojin down to her knees, but there is no need. She takes the short fall and her lips aggressively wrap around your tip before you can overthink your decision. 

“No need to agree, it wasn’t up to you anyway,” Yeri laughs and you feel her fingers roam your upper body, everything from butt, back, nape to stomach and chest. She lingers there for a long time, cupping your pecs while you imagine cupping her surprisingly big tits—then Yeri dives in and starts to suck one of your nipples, while Yeojin bops her head back and forth. 

“You tiny bitches.” They make it hard to breathe, their sluttiness and sloppiness is excellent, their enthusiasm matches that of Wonyoung. “You greedy, evil little things. You’ll regret that.”

“We’ll see about that,” Yeojin moans when your cock pops from her luscious lips and you’re back to receiving harsh, painful pumps from her fishnet clad hands. “What’s stopping you, huh?”

Nothing, really, so you don’t keep them waiting any longer. You reach into the back of Yeri’s bikini bottoms while simultaneously finding a good grip on Yeojin’s ponytail. A bit of adjusting on both ends, suddenly there is nothing but sounds of horniness, of rampant, uncensored sex. Well, there is of course a lot more than that, but who could think of anything else—

—but Yeojin’s cock-sucking lips sucking cock. They are the only thick thing on this miniscule rookie pornstar. You jerk your hips forward and her nose meets your base. You keep it that way as her tight throat struggles with your size and saliva spills from her lips. 

Yeojin’s gags seem to turn on Yeri, her wet pussy dripping on your fingers as you rub it, never too fast, to keep her on the edge to—yeah, teach her a lesson. Look at that needy face, that heaving bosom, she is so desperate for more stimulation, but could never admit to it. Yeri’s pride keeps her from begging for your fingers to twirl inside her cunt.

“Is that really how you want to do it?” That’s as close to a beg as you will get from Yeri, nonetheless, you’ll give her more rubs. All this struggle is unbeknownst to the viewer, who can only see Yeri’ ecstatic face and wide open mouth as you finally insert two digits in her cunt. “That’s better, fuck.”

“Ride my fingers, Yeri. Impress me, and I’ll fuck you on the desk.”

“You, you will either way,” she chirps back, voice about to break when you thrust knuckles deep and curl, all while making Yeojin your sex doll. 

Those gags of hers have become too dangerous though, so you take a step back and intensely watch as Yeojin coughs up lots and lots of saliva, letting it run down her pretty little face, her throat that was just stuffed like some obscene christmas chicken. In disbelief you watch her wipe her tears away and grin on, as if she wasn't just fighting for her life. Nothing can get Yeojin down, her brattiness is unreal.

Yeri does not seem amused at the lack of attention you give her. She pulls your hand out of her pussy and waddles towards the desk. In a burst of creativity, you grab her and slam her on the desk, on her back. Yeri winces in pain, but you already have her entrance exposed and filled before she can complain. And complain, she shall never again.

“Fuck, so big, be ca-care-ful!”

“Now that’s—oh God, you’re tight—now that’s not what I expected from you,” you groan manically, as you pin Yeri down with both your eyes and hands. “Shut up and take it. I want to see your tits bounce.”

Out of nowhere, Yeojin’s thin hand creeps under the thin string of Yeri’s bikini top and pulls it off. Finally, you can see those modest breasts swing freely while you do what you’re best at: plunging your fat cock into a wet cunt. Yeri moans, in a deep craze, deep pleasure, her hips grind in circles so you have to pin her down harder, hands in the soft flesh above those hips—just fuck faster and lose your mind.

“Yeri, your pussy looks so full,” Yeojin giggles and brushes stray hair out of her friend’s ecstatic face. “Don’t tell me you’re already about to cum?”

“No-no, never—”

“Oh great, cuz I won’t let you,” you promptly say and pull out of that stretched hole, gaped and absolutely desperate for an orgasm that was right around the corner. A few more pumps and Yeri would have been gone, her first on cam climax was so close.

But now it’s Yeojin’s turn. After all you want those points—or is it their points? You don’t care, you just hook your arms underneath her thighs and pick her up. She’s as light as she looks and her pink cavern is as snug as you anticipate. Yeojin holds onto your neck for stability, while you split her open further and further and when she leans into you, you feel your cock bulge her.

“Fuck, fuck, that’s the spot.” Use Yeojin like a fleshlight, an upgrade to her sex doll mouth, and she surrenders to the pleasure. Wasn’t this supposed to be Team Bratty or something? This is more—

“Team Cockhungry, absolute sluts,” you shout at her but Yeojin is just mindless and her lips quiver anxiously whenever you’re not guiding her small body up and down your cock. “Yeri, get on the wall. Present your ass to me, if you want this cock again.”

Yeri nods, only focused on you. She needs a second to find orientation again, while you make Yeojin lose all orientation as you spin her around and fuck her full nelson. An insane idea by the producers, stand and carry sex for the finale, but with a girl this small, it’s actually possible. You are still the unrestrained engine that pistons and pistons until Yeojin is ready to burst.

“Not yet, not yet,” you coo as you ruin yet another orgasm. A wet pop when you remove yourself from what could be a perfect hole for cockwarming, breeding and many other lewd adventures. The industry will empty their pockets to get a video with this pocket pussy girl. But for now, she is all yours and quite dismayed.

“You, you dick, better make it up later,” Yeojin says, voice deeply judgemental. It has to be ignored, because first, you have to make it up for a certain someone who wasn’t satisfied with your fingers or a short missionary fuck. Yeri needs you again, deep and hard, while her fragile legs try to keep her upright.

You watch the side of her face, the lip bite, the palms flaking off the wallpaper, the thighs trapping you and your cock is already on her labia. Yeri rubs her love juice all over your rod and you follow her plea and take the lead with a thrust that can be heard around the world.

“Fuck, it’s deep, your cock is deep in my pussy.” The disbelief in her voice sounds genuine, just like the attempt to crawl up the wall to drop back down on your cock. Yeri wants you to hit her cervix, finally cumming all over you but you need to savor this position more.

“Deeper than anything else.” A hand in her hair, you press everything of her against the wall. “I know you like it deep, your best spots are there. You’re a slut for large cocks, you only want them while standing up.”

“No, I need them to pick me up! Lift me up and fuck me, break me open deeeeep!”

Yeri must have been so envious of Yeojin. You might have picked the wrong girl to lift on high and fill from below. You can still make it up though; Yeri’s tits are repurposed as handles to pull her back onto your chest, feet suddenly flying. You might be blinded by strands of her hair all over your face, but you can still feel the weight of Yeri down on your cock, while you’re still drilling into her. She is getting higher, not only physically, but mentally. She loves nothing more than to be watched while a huge shaft fucks her. The stimulation sends her into a sea of bliss, a deep ocean, like the puddle of girl cum beneath your feet. 

“I’m going to cum on your cock,” Yeri screams and tries to choke out a load from your balls, yet all she is choking you with is her hair on your face. “I love it, y-you can finish with me—”

The last time the camera captured someone cum so hard was about thirty minutes ago, either Wonyoung or Yiren, but unlike Team Princess next door, Yeri does it involuntarily. You pound the squirt out of her sloppy cunt until your legs become a slippery lubed mess and you almost slip on the cheap classroom floor. Yeri shouts and whines, the inside of her pussy still rippling when you pull out of it.

When you place Yeri back against the wall and feel the somewhat cold studio air brush past your erection, you realize that Yeri was close to getting you off too early. You are throbbing, surfing on the edge, almost getting blue balled. The only thing that can save you is Yeojin and the only thing you see is her ass, as she props herself up on all fours in between the chairs of—

Who counts chairs and who fucking cares? Just slam your cock into her ass and hear her screech in shock at the sudden fullness of her back entrance. There will be no ruined orgasm for you this time, Yeojin’s ass is your guarantee and you doubt her brattiness will return. Not when she moans so submissively. A question remains as you bury yourself repeatedly in Yeojin’s rectum: how can she be shocked when it's all lubed up and relaxed and eager to take you back inside like the pussy of a veteran porn star?

Yeojin really was born for this job. Her petite frame will be perfect for various porn sites related to kinks: size difference, stand and carry, small tits. The videos of her getting bulged will become legendary amongst the horniest or Reddit and Tumblr communities. Guys will have their way with her, her head will be spinning after some huge guys have her unconventionally spitroasted in the air or one of those tall, muscular women takes her for a ride on a strap-on. 

They won’t have to worry about anal from her, because Yeojin takes it legendarily, narrowing at just the right time to go beyond the audio-visual perfection that is her penetrated ass—in simpler words, it feels as good as it looks. She can rival Yuna or maybe form some butt slut dream team, that’s how fucking amazing fucking her ass is.

“Yeri get back here, I’m close,” you promptly announce whilst scoring again by forcing Yeojin into a prone position and marking her shoulders with tender bites. Yeri struggles to find footing, only able to push forward because of all the tables and chairs. When she finally reaches you, you give Yeojin your final pumps as her entire frame is struck by an orgasmic earthquake. 

In this day and age, everything has to be fast, even porn has to fit the 15 second shorts, reels, tiktok culture, so you start to cum in Yeojin and push Yeri to the ground at the same time. Then you reach for Yeri’s butt while holding back as many spurts as you can, to get her in this sweet piledriver and then paint both the outside and inside off her petite yet bubbly ass. It’s perfect for a short clip, that little teaser that plays when you’re about to click on the next JAV thumbnail on that shady site.

The HD or 4K settings across all screens can never do the real sight of a blissfully filled Yeri justice, as she eagerly spreads her own cheeks and everyone gets the awesome view of cum that seeps out of a gaped ass. The upside down (pretty, little, risky) baddie cleans off that hard-working cockwith her formerly bratty mouth. Deep exhales through her nose send a nice, warm stream of air around your base, which finally loses stiffness, the tension, it comes crashing down in the well-known post-nut clarity.

In this clarity however, you find Yeri’s final defiance; her lips will not let go of your cock and her tongue on your sensitive slit makes you curl your toes and whine out the agony which shoots up to your head like electric shocks. To top it all off, you feel Yeojin grin behind you when she wraps her slender arms around your midriff. This wasn’t in the script!

“The shooting might be over,” the tiny girl whispers. “But we are not done with you.”

“There are still a lot of points to be collected. 

“And you will collect all of them.”

[shitsndgiggs]

A DAY IN REGENSBURG - KENAN YILDIZ

A day walking around the streets of Regensburg, with Kenan

Kenan Yildiz x half turkish, half danish! reader

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿

The cobblestone streets of Regensburg felt like a step back in time, with their charming architecture.

Kenan and I walked hand in hand, the summer sun casting a warm glow over the historic town. The day was perfect.

"So, Kenan," I started, swinging our joined hands slightly as we walked, "what’s your favorite childhood memory from growing up here?"

Kenan grinned, his eyes sparkling with nostalgia. "Oh, that’s a tough one, mein schatz. But I think it has to be playing football in the park with my friends. We used to pretend we were playing in the World Cup."

I laughed. "I can totally see that. Were you always the star player?"

"Of course," he said with a mock-serious expression. "I was always the star, even if we were just kids with big dreams."

"Well, look at you now, Herr Fußballstar," I teased, nudging him playfully. "Living the dream."

He chuckled, pulling me closer as we walked. "And what about you? Any favorite memories from Denmark?”

"I have so many," I said, thinking back. "But one of my favorites is visiting my grandparents every weekend. The whole family would gather, and we’d have these huge feasts. The food, the laughter, it was just perfect."

"Sounds amazing," Kenan said, his tone softening. "Family is everything, isn’t it?"

We continued our stroll, pausing occasionally for Kenan to take pictures with fans who recognized him. "Guten Tag! Of course, happy to take a photo," he would say, his smile never fading. I watched him interact, feeling proud of how gracious he was with everyone.

A group of teenagers approached, shyly asking for autographs. Kenan signed their shirts and took selfies with them, making sure everyone was happy. "You’re so good with your fans," I commented as we continued walking.

Kenan shrugged modestly. "They’re the best. And seeing them happy makes it all worth it."

As we reached the town square, the St. Peter's Church loomed majestically in the distance. Kenan looked at me, his expression softening. "You know, I think you fit in here perfectly. Like you were meant to be part of my world."

I smiled, feeling warmth spread through me. "Maybe it’s because I’m half-Turkish too. And Denmark isn’t far from Germany, so we’re almost alike in a way."

Kenan nodded, stopping to kiss my hand. "Absolutely. It’s like we were meant to find each other, canım."

We found a cozy bakery and decided to take a break. Kenan ordered in German, showing off his fluency, while I teased him about his accent. "You sound so serious when you speak German," I joked. "Like a stern teacher."

He laughed. "Well, maybe I am. And you, öğrencim, need to behave."

I stuck my tongue out at him playfully. "You wish."

As we enjoyed our treats, an elderly couple at the next table struck up a conversation with us, commenting on how lovely we looked together. "Siz çok güzel bir çiftsiniz," the woman said, smiling kindly.

"Teşekkürler," Kenan replied, nodding appreciatively.

We continued our exploration, visiting the Stone Bridge and marveling at the views of the Danube River. Kenan pointed out his favorite spots from his childhood, sharing stories that made me laugh and feel closer to him.

"Do you think we’ll come back here often?" I asked, leaning my head on his shoulder as we walked.

"I hope so," Kenan said, his voice filled with warmth. "I want to share all my favorite places with you."

As the day drew to a close, we found ourselves back at the town square, the sky painted in hues of orange and pink. Kenan pulled me close, wrapping his arms around me. "Thank you for spending the day with me here. It means a lot."

"Jeg elsker dig," I whispered,"Thank you for sharing this with me."

"Ben de seni seviyorum," he replied softly, leaning down to kiss me. The world around us seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of us, lost in a moment of pure happiness.

As we walked back hand in hand, the lights of Regensburg twinkling around us, I knew that this day, filled with playful banter, shared memories, and tender moments, was one I would cherish forever.

[kaeyx]

Happy birthday Dazai!

Dazai x afab!gn!reader [wc:2.8k]

Content/warnings: 18+, couch sex, humping, unprotected sex, more of a dom-ish reader, Dazai is called princess, y'all skip work but that's always morally correct

Notes: I began this bitch over a year ago as a joke and it's finally out. Dedicated to the lovely @sproutzai because I love him and also because he made the pretty layout!

All things considered, it’s not that big of a surprise that Dazai ends up in your bed. Your job is filing reports, the pay isn’t good enough to justify any wild clubbing, and there’s something in his pretty eyes that’s been promising you a lot of things ever since you joined the agency. It feels like you’re a puzzle he’s been trying to crack, poking and prodding and letting his hands ghost over your back whenever he walks by; high enough that it’s not off putting, low enough that you want to yank him closer by the lapels of his stupid coat and tell him to just commit already, damnit.

His sweet, singsong voice is low, purring in your ears while his hand cradles your face. His fingers are long and boney, cold, circling behind your neck to pull you into him. The door to your apartment is solid against your back and his hips fit snugly in your hands.

You break away to unlock it, ignoring the man pawing at your back and mouthing at your neck in favour of getting your key in the hole. Fuck, you can’t believe you’re skipping work for this guy.

Sunlight falls across the floor of your apartment, dust dancing through your living room. When you reach behind you to tug him inside he stumbles, his eyes dark with anticipation but the edges of his mouth twitching upwards like a giddy teenager. His already rebellious hair falling into his face, vest half undone, shirt untucked and rumpled around his waist. Your fault, not that you’re sorry about messing him up a little.

Dazai licks his lips and smiles, a little predatory, a lot daring, and you knowingly take the bait, pulling him close and grabbing wherever you can, your mouth continuing where it had last left his jaw. Two pairs of shoes are hastily kicked off, landing mingled on the floor. You should both be working, you in the office and him outside and yet here you are, grinding against each other like a pair of overeager kids, and you can’t even bring yourself to care. You can feel his bulge growing under his slacks, his hands wandering downwards to squeeze your ass and pull you in by your belt loops, drool collecting hot and heavy on the edges of your mouths.

Your blazer falls over the nearest chair as you pull Dazai backwards, making your way across the room by pure memory. The back of your leg hits the edge of the couch, cushions sinking under your combined weight as his knee lands between your thighs, his body covering yours. It’s easy to hook one finger, and then two, under the bandages on his neck and drag him down. A groan slips out of his mouth, one you quickly silence with your own eager lips. He eagerly follows your pull, crawling up to you with his hands caging you in on either side of your head.

You tug the bandage down to expose his pale neck and nip at his throat, delighting in the full body shiver that runs through him and presses you closer.

“You like that?” Your lips graze his pulse point and he inhales sharply. His throat bobs.

After a beat of silence he groans a little, and it makes you laugh.

“Answer me,” you say lightly, smiling. He chuckles.

“You’re really going to make me say it?” he pouts, adjusting himself so your eyes can meet. His hair is falling all round, framing his face and reddened lips.

“I can do a lot worse, princess.” The nickname slips out unintentionally, but you see his eyes widen a fraction, feel a twitch against your thigh and know you’ve struck gold.

He looks away first, dropping his head to your shoulder and nestling himself right against your collar before saying, “please?”

Heat spears straight through your abdomen, tugging him up by the bandages to crash your mouths together in a kiss that’s more teeth than tongue and makes Dazai whine in delight. He relaxes against you completely, held up only by his forearms on the armrest, knowing he’s got you. When you break away the sun is in his eyes, turning them sienna.

“Take that stupid coat off,” you whisper.

“Only the coat?” He’s already scrambling back, slipping his arms out of the sleeves. Bandages hide all his skin until they disappear into the rolled up sleeves of his shirt.

As you sit up, reaching for his vest, he takes your wrists and presses them flat against his chest, leaning in to kiss you again. He lets his lips hover, barely brushing your own, letting his breath fan across your face. His nose is nearly touching yours. Your fingers fumble for the buttons on his shirt and vest, giving way to the rough feeling of bandages wrapped around his chest as his own cold hands make quick work of your shirt. He traces the curve of your shoulder and follows it down your arms, tossing the fabric to the ground in a heap.

“I’m going to have to iron that later,” you complain absently, but the thought of returning to work is admittedly fading from your mind with every kiss.

Dazai’s vest falls on the cushions behind him. “You worry too much,” he says, squeezing your hips to put your focus back on him.

Your hands go to his middle, fingers dancing carefully over his bandaged torso so as to not dislodge anything, feeling his hip bones poke through his slacks. You press forward, one hand splayed across his stomach until Dazai gets the hint and falls back against the other end of the couch with a spark of excitement in his eyes. His pants are easy to undo, hasty fingers tugging the fabric down to expose his hips as he reaches for your own waistband and pulls you to sit on his thighs.

“Sit back.” Your voice is a little shaky as you grab his cold, bandaged wrists and push them up by his head. He laughs, grinning at you with a spark in his eyes.

“Come on,” he whines, reaching out again. You swat his hands off your hips and he pouts, letting them fall back.

“Patience,” you say, giving him a pointed look, already back to teasing his thighs, fingers running over the edge of his bandages. You snap his boxers against his skin, making his fists clench by his head and his brows twitch, smile twitching at the edges. His stomach jumps as you watch shamelessly, your eyes on the sliver of scarred thighs and tummy, and the mass of dark hair trailing down between his legs.

“Lift your hips for me,” you instruct, hands suddenly aching to pull everything off him.

Dazai happily complies, wriggling his hips to help, sighing as his length springs free from his boxers and he kicks them off.

Palm wet with spit you reach for his cock, watching with satisfaction as Dazai’s eyes unfocus when you squeeze the base.

“What, no bandages here?” You tease, smiling up at him. He chuckles, though it sounds significantly less steady than his usual voice.

It’s not the thickest you’ve seen by far, but it’s long and twitches invitingly under your gaze, the tip flushed a pretty pink. You run your fingers up the underside and push it against his stomach, thumb rolling over the head and catching his slit, coming away stained with a bit of precum. Dazai is staring at you while you’re staring at his dick, too mesmerized to appreciate the flush on his cheeks.

“It’s not fair that I’m the only one naked,” Dazai pouts, once again tugging on your pant leg.

“Fine, fine, greedy cunt,” you grumble, though there’s a smile tugging at your lips. It’s not bad at all to be so wanted, especially not if it’s Dazai looking at you with his twinkling eyes.

It’s not hard to shuck the rest of your clothes, finally leaving you bare before him, but you don’t let him get a good look before you’re back on top of him, straddling his thighs. Once again taking his cock into your hands you give it a few gentle strokes before carefully sitting on it and his stomach, trapping his dick between your pussy lips.

Dazai’s hips twitch up and he groans, his hands instinctively flying to your hips and squeezing the warm flesh. You take a deep breath, grinding yourself back and forth in tiny motions that make his cockhead rub just right against your clit. You’re soaked, your cunt already making a mess all over his length and even his stomach, the slick easing your movements and helping you hump him. Dazai is still holding tight onto your hips and looking up at you with wonder in his gaze, and you spy him licking his lips.

You brace yourself on his chest and roll your hips with slow, sensual movements, looking down at the man spread out beneath you. Dazai is looking back with need and wonder on his face, his hips rocking up to meet yours, his cock slotted perfectly against you. You lower your head to his and brush your lips against his, sucking on his bottom lip and trapping the soft flesh between your teeth for a second before pulling away, kissing and nipping at his chin and under his jaw as Dazai tilts his head back and whines, his boney hands tightening on your hips. Travelling further down your mouth finds his collarbones and eventually the hard nub of a nipple, hidden away under his bandages. Dazai tenses when you rub your lips against it, letting out a delicate, shuddering whine and humping you a bit faster. Smiling, you ignore the discomfort of your position and instead lavish the whole area with your tongue, flattening it and letting your spit soak his bandages.

Dazai brings his face to your shoulder, kissing and sucking, tiny kitten licks that leave behind sparks of cold. Oh, he knows exactly what he’s doing. Nimble fingers trace your spine from your neck to your hips, drawing senseless curves and circles, committing your skin to memory. It makes you shudder and him smile, adding a hint of nail to his touches that has you shivering, your hips snapping forwards involuntarily. The eager mouth on your skin falls open as you wrap your lips around his nipple and suck, his tongue lolling out and pressing flat against your collarbone. He licks a stripe up to your neck but you can feel his breath trembling against you and it makes your heart flutter.

“You like this, don’t you?” You groan against Dazai’s chest, kissing the crisscrossing bandages over his heart. He’s also curled up a bit to reach your shoulder without having to stop humping your soft cunt, and his tummy is tense.

“Mhmm,” Dazai sighs happily, relaxing against the cushions and kissing the top of your head. “And you do too.”

Your hips slow a little as you get distracted, choosing to brace yourself on the sofa on either side of Dazai’s midsection instead of on his chest, taking his other nipple into your mouth and giving that one some soft kisses too. It’s poking through a gap in his bandages, pink and swollen, delectable. Dazai wriggles his hips and tries to keep moving you back and forth on his aching cock, the head catching on your entrance a few times but sliding harmlessly away, too covered in your wetness to give any sort of friction.

“Don’t be impatient,” you chastise him without any heat, sitting fully on his hips to stop him from moving around while you explore his chest to your heart’s content.

“At least don’t leave me hanging,” Dazai whines, looking straight at you with pleading eyes and a pretty pout.

You know he’s acting but that doesn’t make him any less pretty, or any less enticing. His lips are parted and you can see his chest rise and fall, the faint blush on his cheeks, the way his dark hair is spread in one perfect tangle all over the cushion. Your cheeks feel hot, and when his long hands grip your ass and move your hips back and forth you let him set the pace without much protest.

A whiny moan vibrates through Dazai’s chest as you wrap your mouth around his nipple again, one hand coming up to toy with the other one. You flick and pinch it, rolling the delicate bud between your fingers and biting gently on the other to make him jump. He’s shaking beneath you, his movements choppy as he ruts against your slick cunt and whines shamelessly.

“Hey- I’m-” Dazai pants, trying to warn you of something in a breathy voice.

His tone makes you grin, still rubbing firm circles into his nipple as you lean up and kiss his neck. His body tenses under you and you lick the underside of his jaw, taking some of the delicate skin between your teeth and applying barely enough pressure to leave a mark.

“Go on princess,” you whisper against his skin, pretty sure you know what’s going to happen.

That seems to do it for him as hot, sticky ropes of white paint his stomach. His cock twitches against you as he cums, thick spurts that seem to go on forever. Mesmerized, you drag two fingers through the mess and smear it across his skin, even rubbing the tip of his cock to cover it in a milky sheen. Dazai mewls and looks at you with wide eyes, a half smile of triumph on his face. He seems excited, and that only grows when you begin to move your hips again. He whines and squirms but doesn’t do anything to push you off, his stomach tensing with every slow roll of your hips.

“Is this what you’ve been wanting all this time?” You murmur, reaching out to hold his face and pull him in for a kiss.

Dazai groans, trying to shove his tongue past your lips and lick the roof of your mouth. His hands find your ass and squeeze appreciatively, his hips rolling almost instinctively against yours.

“You’re- enjoying yourself, aren’t you?” Dazai pants, breaking away just enough to show you a cheeky smile before capturing your lips again.

You manage a noise of assent, too preoccupied with grinding against him just right, quick and shallow thrusts that rub your clit just right without the hood getting in the way. Your heart thumps in your chest and there’s a distinct coil of need growing in your stomach. Dazai’s mouth is sloppy and eager, his kisses landing on your cheeks and chin. He’s also getting close, if his eager pace and quiet whines are anything to go by.

“Again?” You ask just to make sure, reaching down between your bodies.

“One- one more,” He whines, hips bucking when your hand closes around his cock. His skin shines with sweat, almost making him glow beneath you.

His length slips inside you, hot and messy and making him buck his hips as you gasp in unison. His head falls back with a low groan, and you grit your teeth. He fits so comfortably, giving your cunt something to clench around without being thick enough to sting, a pleasant weight in your abdomen.

“Fuck- good, that’s it,” you gasp, gripping his chin again. “Look at me, princess.”

Dazais eyes are dark and flat, pupils blown, and he’s biting down on his chapped lip with a small furrow in his brow. He looks pretty enough for you to eat him whole. It only takes a few seconds of you grinding and rolling your hips before he makes a noise that’s all sorts of needy and you fight to keep your eyes from closing as your orgasm rips though you. You look down just in time to see his back arch, his mouth parting with a sweet cry, feet kicking behind you as his hands grasp the couch beside his head. Muscles tense your hips keep moving on their own, prolonging both your highs until you eventually collapse into the man beneath you.

Your legs burn when you finally stretch them out, lying on Dazai’s chest and finally letting yourself catch your breath, basking in the pleasant glow of release. He’s a bit cold to the touch but it’s soothing right now, especially when he puts one of his hands on your back. You can hear his heartbeat.

A phone rings from somewhere inside a pocket, halfway across the room. Before you can even grumble and try to get up, thin arms wrap around you and you find yourself trapped in Dazai’s surprisingly strong grip.

“Nnnnnooo…” he whines, throwing one leg clumsily over yours, “not yet….”

“Really?” You snort. “You’re going to pull a ‘five more minutes’ on me?”

He just laughs, giving you a squeeze. “I meant, I’m not done with you yet. Come on,” his voice turns a little whiny, pleading, “you’re not going to leave right now are you?”

“I guess not.”

[mrs-barnes-rogers-writes]

Angel - Part 2

Marvel AU

Pairing: Alpha Steve Rogers x Enhanced Omega Reader x Alpha Bucky Barnes

Theme: A/B/O / True Mates

Summary: It's different when you're enhanced. Everything is different, every smell, every sound, touch, feelings. The way it's different doesn't make sense unless you are enhanced. Throw in what comes with Alpha and Omega instincts, and the intensity of your presentation is even more than any other. When you find yourself in need of help you can call on the alpha you trust the most, Natasha Romanoff. You just don't expect to find your alphas at the same time. Are you really enough for them? And can you really be the Luna to the Avengers?

"To be loved, to be loved by your mate is everything." - Wanda Maximoff

Reader is enhanced, has wings and has powers connected to electricity.

Chapter Summary: Clint and Nat discover what's happened to you.

Chapter Warning: Mentions of sexual assault and attempted rape.

Clint’s the first to find you.

You’re sitting in the ditch your knees to your chest, head down and your wings wrapped around you.

“I have her, slow approach.”

He slowly knelt down in front of you, keeping a two metre distance. He had never seen your wings so dark, as black as they were now. You’d told him early on in your friendship that they changed colour with your moods. The darker, the worse the mood. He’d only seen them pure white a couple of times and it was always around his kids or laughing with Nat and Laura on the porch at the farm. But right now, they were as dark as night, like Lucifer himself had given them to you.

“Y/N? Sweetie it’s me. It’s Clint. Can you let me see you?”

Your wings dipped ever so slightly and your tear filled eyes looked back at him. It didn’t take a detective to figure out what had happened. Even his beta nose could pick up the stink of the alpha on you and he knew that scent. If he didn’t kill the alpha responsible, Romanoff definitely would. Clint knew what he had to ask you and he hated having to ask, knowing he really already knew the answer, but protocol was protocol and he knew at least a dozen agents that practically worshipped you and would bring in the piece of shit, to save him and Romanoff the trouble. They’d get you settled and then have him delivered to them. Wanda would want in on this and he was sure Wade owed you a favour. Yeah that would do it but now he needs you out of this ditch.

“Y/N? Do you require a female senior officer for debrief?”

You nodded weakly in reply.

Purposeful footsteps made themselves known and you saw Natasha’s silhouette appear from the darkness, the sparse street lights being all to light the ditch.

“Angel?”

The smell and look in your eyes hit Natasha like a freight train and she knew right then she was putting some red in her ledger. She tried her best to keep the growl muffled in her chest as she pulled out a pair of medical gloves from her pocket, as Clint mimicked her actions.

“Bruce call Hill, direct line, tell her we need her on a video call immediately. AR and SA suspected. Debrief required.” Clint requested over comms as he and Natasha slowly reached out to you, their hands outstretched. You placed a hand in one each of theirs and they slowly lifted you up, both noticing how your face contorted with pain.

“We’ve got you.” spoke Clint softly as he slipped an arm around your waist, “this OK?”

You let out a shuddered breath and nodded. Nat mimicked Clint’s actions, pushing down her inner alpha’s rage. Both supported you keeping the smallest of gaps between you so not to contaminate your suit too much and damage the evidence you were covered in.

The light breeze generated from F.R.I.D.A.Y bringing around the jet blew your hair back and Clint got a clearer view of your face, and could see a clear the mark where you’d been struck. Bruce appeared on the already lowered ramp and you noticed he was also wearing gloves and a disposable apron.

“Hills online and everything is set up.”

As you entered the jet you became aware of what Bruce meant and saw a projection of a live video call from Deputy Director Hill, a stern look on her face. A plastic sheet was laid in front of the screen, and on it laid a clear bag, swabs, scissors and nail clippers. You stepped on the sheet and Hill pushed down a growl, trying to hide it as a clearing of her throat as she saw the state you were in.

“Agent, please confirm your identity.”

You signed back.

AFH 27, code name Angel

“I’m going to need verbal communication if possible Agent.”

You gesture at your throat, getting frustrated when you realised you weren’t being clear.

“I don’t think she can.” Bruce replied for you, noticing the bruising making its way up your neck. He placed a tablet in front of you, the internal state of your vocal calls displayed.

There was a muttered Jesus Christ from Hill.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y give her a full body scan for injuries, fluids and any other evidence.”

“Agent, tell me what happened.”

TAGLIST

@hnnhbananananana

[maknaeswrld]

a life remembered | l.mh, h.js

wc: 4.6k

genre: soulmate au; reincarnation au; fluff; angst; poly!minsung x reader

cw: primarily Han pov; illusions to suggestive conversation; concert highs; anxiety/panic attack mentions; food/eating mentions; Bee (I feel like they need a warning lol, love them the most); arguing but bc they care (not between the soulmates); please let me know if I missed anything

part one: a life forgotten

Soulmates are a curious thing. Everyone has them, and someway, somehow, they always find each other.

When Lee Minho walked into JYP Entertainment for the first time, Jisung didn’t know what to do or how to react, and looking back on it now, it was comical. Minho was, in Jisungs opinion, one of, if not the most, handsome man he’d ever seen. It had struck a chord in him he’d chosen to interpret as jealousy.

When Chan told him he wanted to include Minho in the group he was creating, Jisung couldn’t decide if he was giddy or nervous. He’d met the other boy twice and couldn’t shake the overwhelming feeling that they knew each other. It wasn’t until their third meeting, the first one in an official capacity, to learn the song Chan wanted to showcase, that Jisung realized why.

The small space of the practice room they were designated to made the group circle a tight one, Minho rushing in and dropping to the floor in the open spot between Jisung and Felix, accidentally brushing against Jisung in the process and shooting them both headfirst into a memory both could swear wasn’t theirs.

Water surrounded them in every direction, the sounds of laughter filling the air. The ship rocked gently as the waves pushed it along steadily.

Minho took Jisungs hand, leading him to the edge of the ship. 

“Where is your beautiful mind right now, my love?” 

And although it didn’t feel like he was talking to Minho, and there was no response, Jisung’s smile lit up his entire face, his eyes twinkling in pure content.

“Come back to the group, love. The boys are going to start their whining if you ignore them for too long.” Minho groaned.

Again there was no response, as if a chunk of their memory for this specific moment was still missing.

“You know how your boys can get.” Jisung waved nonchalantly, hand grasping at thin air before the two turned back to join the rest of the crew.

Practice was immediately derailed as they were brought back to the present, everyone looking worried as they surrounded the pair.

“What just happened?” Changbin asked, holding Jisungs shoulder to keep him steady.

“I’m not entirely sure.” Jisung couldn’t stop himself from seeking out Minho’s eyes, which were already on him, holding the softest expression Jisung has ever seen in his life.

“Please tell me you saw the ship too.” Minho whispered, voice unsure, hand grasping Jisungs for dear life and all he could do was nod. Minho started nodding along with him, the two slowly morphing from shock to joy as smiles spread across their faces.

Tears pricked at Jisungs eyes the more the realization hit him.

“We’re soulmates.”

````

Five years. 

In five years, so much had changed for Han Jisung. In just five years he’d met not only the love of his life, but also his soul brothers, a realization they came to some time after the soulmate realization, as Minho and Jisung saw the rest of the members in almost all of their past lives. 

In five years Stray Kids had also risen to a level of fame not one of them had predicted. They were living a life their younger selves could have only hoped to dream of, and they were so beyond grateful and happy to be able to keep doing music together.

But also within those five years, Minho and Jisung had come to the conclusion that something was missing. They were absolutely positive that they were soulmates, of that there was not even a shadow of a doubt, but there were too many holes in their shared memories, conversations that felt one sided, moments in bed with a gap between them that shouldn't be there if they were at peace with one another. But the confirmation that they were missing a piece came in a memory that surfaced much later than the rest, one with Jisung storming up to Minho’s door, fist banging in anger, wedding band adorning his finger but not Minho’s. 

That memory was one of Jisung being angry with Minho and not even knowing who he was, with Minho knowing of Jisung but not knowing him personally, of them both being in love with a person that wasn’t the other. Minho is positive he’d despise cheaters in every life, yet was accused of sleeping with a married person. Neither Jisung, nor Minho could remember Jisungs spouse's name, what they looked like, what gender they were, all they knew was that both of them loved them, and they both loved them as desperately as they love one another, and that was enough to convince them that the piece missing was a third soulmate.

They didn’t know how to go about it, they couldn’t even be allowed to share the truth of their relationship and thousands of Stays were claiming to be each members soulmates daily just for a chance of meeting them. The chances of finding their third and final piece was slim at absolute best. 

People always say trust the soulmate connection and that time would bring them together, but that was hard knowing you couldn’t remember someone you love. 

Han Jisung spent far too many concerts and fan meets searching the crowd in hopes that you’d be there, that he’d finally find you and the trio would finally be complete. Likewise, he’d spent just as many nights disappointed that you were nowhere to be found. With their fame came the higher likelihood of you being able to find them, but that also meant it’d be harder for them to find you. However, Chan and his soulmate, Riley, gave Jisung hope that he would find you.

Lee Minho wanted to find you just as badly, though he looked for you in the mundane. Whilst his partner expected you to reach out via their fame, Minho hoped more for bumping into you on the sidewalk or in a coffee shop, it made him feel more attainable. Minho knew that whilst Riley and Chan made it work, and even Bee and Changbin, there were just as many people that would be scared off by celebrity soulmates as there are seeking them. 

Another concert, another night of Jisung daydreaming about finding you in the crowd and whisking you away after to finally meet you and remember you. Riley gave Chan a knowing glare, the parental figures of the group concerned about their younger friend. Ever since the two soulmates came to the conclusion they have a third one, which isn’t unheard of but is fairly rare, their friends have been doubtful to say the least. 

No one likes seeing the kicked puppy look on Jisungs face whenever someone mentions that maybe there isn’t anyone else out there, or the way Minho gets defensive when they try to talk to him about the possibility of their memories just not having fully solidified yet. Both in the firm belief that five years connected at the hip was enough time to remember everything. But that didn’t stop the worried glances and strained smiles when they’d start talking about their ‘other soulmate’.

“They’re gonna be here tonight.” Jisung stated as if it were an absolute fact.

“You said that last night, Sungie.” Hyunjin muttered.

“Yeah, but I can feel it this time. They’re in the crowd right now, I’m positive of it.”

“Ji, you have an incredible soulmate already, why are you so eager to find another one?” Bee asked from their almost permanent place snuggled into Changbin. “I’m just saying, I can’t imagine dealing with more than one Binnie.”

“They’re not another Minho, they’re mine and Min’s missing piece.” Jisung argued. It was a conversation that felt all too familiar, and every time one of his soul brothers or other lifetime friends make comments, he feels himself getting just a little more hostile but also a little more defeated.

Maybe they were wrong, maybe there wasn’t a missing piece and they truly just haven’t had the best relationship in every lifetime. But Jisung couldn’t bring himself to believe that. Seeing how whole Bee and Bin, and Riley and Chan, were, how they didn’t have memory gaps or questionable moments and conversations, made him feel like there was no other explanation aside from another person to fill the void. It wasn’t like Jisung thought Minho wasn’t enough for him, he wasn’t seeking more from outside their relationship, he loved Minho with every fiber of his being, but he knew Minho wasn’t the only one he’d hold these feelings towards. And Minho knew it too, it was a long conversation to have, one that ended in tears but mutual understanding that they would always have each other and weren’t seeking out this third person for any reason other than them wholeheartedly believing they are also their soulmate.

As the time to go on stage got closer and closer, Jisung felt more antsy. He wasn’t sure why tonight felt different, but he couldn’t stop fidgeting. Minho tried to calm him down, but was just as on edge. 

The concert went smoothly, they always did, but Minho and Jisung both spent far more time engaging towards one specific area than they ever had before. It’s like they couldn’t abandon the section for longer than a few minutes and they always ended up right back there the second they could. Jisung felt better than he had in a long time, adrenaline pumping through his veins and a smile plastered on his face. He felt good, he felt whole for the first time in a long time. Jisung couldn’t explain it, but that stage was the most at home he’d felt since he first found Minho.

As they said their goodbyes to Stay and made their way backstage, the overwhelming peace Jisung had felt slowly faded. He couldn’t think of any reason why, but as he watched Riley smother his leader with kisses and Bee put his best friend into a headlock, he felt himself growing more numb. 

Minho wrapped his arms around him, nuzzling into his shoulder, relieving the aching feeling sinking in so fast it would have given Jisung whiplash if he weren’t already used to the other boys' affect on him, body and mind. Jisung could feel giggles bubbling up in him with each soft kiss placed on the base of his neck.

“You were radiant out there tonight, my love.”

“And you were very sexy.” Jisung giggled.

“Hey now! There are children present!” Riley scolded, breaking away from Chan to cover Jeongin’s ears. “Go foreplay somewhere else.”

“Yeah!” Bee shouted from Changbin’s back. “There’s dressing rooms for a reason!”

The look of absolute dismay Riley shot Bee was priceless, “That’s not what the dressing rooms are for.” 

“It’s not? Did you know that bro?”

Changbins ears were red. “Please don’t call me bro while talking about this.”

“How about we just all get showered and changed and go grab something to eat?” Chan suggested in a tone that left no room for argument, clapping his hands together and pulling Riley back towards his body. “And stop babying Innie, he’s worse than Bee these days.”

“I will never stop babying my baby, but I am hungry.” Riley muttered in agreement. “If y’all take too long in the shower, we’re leaving without you.” Riley pointed at Bee and Changbin, who’s ears somehow got even more red. Bee just winked at their best friend, shiteating grin plastered on their face.

Twenty minutes later, Jisung piled into the van with his bandmates and additional soulmates, Seungmin and Hyunjin discussing what they wanted to eat whilst Felix snuggled into Bee’s side, the two looking at memes while Changbin pouted.

Jisung felt more drained than he had in a long time, his social battery past empty and moved on to completely fried. Minho pulling him into his side eased some of the anxiousness starting to well up.

“No panic attacks after amazing shows.” Minho whispered.

Jisung buried his head further into the other mans neck. “I’m trying.”

“I know.” He kissed the crown of his head gently, smiling softly while tightening his hold. “I’m seriously so proud of you.”

The ride was uneventful out to the opposite side of the city, in hopes less people would recognize them so they could have their meal in peace. Minho and Jisung were the last of the group to venture out of the vehicle and towards the restaurant. They didn’t get too far before a voice rapping along to Han’s part to All In stopped them dead in their tracks.

“Y/n, please, you’re in public.” 

“You’re wasting your breath, you know how they are about their spotlight songs.”

Han’s eyes landed on the person rapping his line with such ease it was as if they’d written it themself. He felt excitement flood through him instantaneously, rushing over and joining them, singing along to the song playing quietly in the outdoor speakers overhead.

He watched your eyes light up as the two of you sang along together, ignoring your friends and focusing on one another. Not a thing in the world was registering to either of you as you both turned to Minho, watching as he rolled his eyes, smile already playing at his lips, joining in for the last parts of the song.

Your laughter filled the air as the song came to an end, and Jisung could swear it was already becoming one of his favorite sounds. 

“Took you long enough.”

Your voice was laced with amusement.

“Sorry to keep you waiting.”

“You know I don’t like singing by myself.” You nudged his shoulder lightly, causing him to wrap his arm around your shoulders and squeeze tight.

“But your voice is so nice!”

A blush lit up your cheeks in an instant, mouth opening to respond when someone clearing their throat behind you drew the groups attention.

“Y/n, um, what?”

“Min! Sungie! Hurry your asses up or we’re gonna eat without you.” Bee shouted from down the way, drawing Jisungs attention just long enough for you to slip out of his hold.

By the time he or Minho could focus back on you, you were gone. No trace of a person having been standing with them, as if you’d been a figment of their imagination.

“Sungie…”

“I know.”

“That was…”

“Yeah.”

Minho was staring off into the direction you had to have gone in, itching to run after you. Jisung stared at his hands, in disbelief that just moments prior he was holding the final piece of his puzzle in those same hands.

You, the random stranger unabashedly performing one of their songs in the middle of the street, were the one person Jisung and Minho had been looking for incessantly. The person they knew they couldn’t remember. 

“Do you ever wonder what we’d be like if we didn’t find each other? What’d it’d be like if we don’t keep finding each other?”

Jisung was used to thinking these types of questions, but hearing you ask them out loud hurt more than him thinking them ever did.

“I’d rather imagine we’ll always find each other.” Jisung grumbled, tightening his hold on both of the bodies on either side of his.

“Okay but what if-”

“There are no what if’s, my love. We’ll always find one another, in every lifetime, even if some take a little longer than others. I don’t see a reason to dwell on the impossibility of not ending up right back here every single time.”

You snuggled deeper into Jisungs chest, hand squeezing Minho’s.

“I suppose you’re right.” You mumbled. Minho squeezed your hand comfortingly in response. 

Jisungs arms shifted entirely around you, squeezing as he rolled over to toss you in the middle, both of your soulmates wanting to hold you close. You sighed in content, snuggling into your boys happily.

“I am so dead serious right now, you two. We will absolutely eat without you if you don’t- why do your faces look like that?”

“We found them.”

“Found who? Why are you being cryptic.”

“We found our other soulmate.” Jisung said.

Bee’s mouth dropped open and within moments all of their brothers and Riley were there, bombarding them with questions.

“Okay, so is no one surprised that they actually have another soulmate? Is that just me?” Hyunjin said, a smack from Seungmin following shortly after. 

“Which direction did they go? We need to find them!” Jeongin said, already shifting from one foot to the other as if he were ready to sprint in any direction in a moments notice. 

“We didn’t actually see what direction they went in because somebody distracted us.” Jisung glared at Bee.

“Oh, I’m sorry I’m hungry and didn’t know.” They huffed.

“We were facing that way so they definitely couldn’t have gone in that direction.” Minho cut in, knowing a grumpy Jisung and a hangry Bee is never a good combination. They loved each other like siblings but damn could they argue until they both turned blue.

“Alright, everyone pick a direction and let's find our boys’ soulmate.” Chan said, “Go in pairs and meet here in one hour, no exceptions. Even if everyone comes back empty handed, we have to at least try.” Turning to his first and last children, his eyes and tone softened. “Is there anything we can use to recognise them?”

Jisung immediately jumped into a full description, followed by Minho simply saying, “Ask if they know ‘All In’. They were singing it with us just now.”

Nods all around as people started pairing up.

“Okay, I’m going with Ji.” Riley stated, looping their arm through Jisungs. “Channie, you take Min. Bin and Bee, separate. I am not dealing with soulmates getting distracted and off mission right now.”

Before Jisung could even think about protesting, he was being swept away by Riley in the first direction he would have guessed you ran in. Jisung struggled to keep up with the pace set by Riley as they ducked into shops and restaurants, checking bathrooms and fitting rooms as they went. Riley wanted to cover as much ground as possible in the one hour timeframe given, which Jisung was appreciative of. However, Jisung hoped Minho and Chan were having better luck, or anyone else for that matter.

He wanted to find you more than anything. Knowing he had you in his arms was enough for him to get addicted to you, and if he stopped for a moment and focused on his memories, he was sure you were already fitting yourself into almost every single one..

Every one sided conversation suddenly being completed, all those nights spent with an unnecessary space between himself and Minho being filled by you. Your presence for those four minutes he got with you had already led to a downward spiral of need to be close to you, to hold you in his arms once more.

In combination with the presence of you in old memories, as if you’d always been there, there was also a small onslaught of new memories, ones without Minho but including you. Ones that further solidified your rightful place within his life.

As another memory flashed behind his eyes, he took a seat on a bench outside of a small corner store.

“Are you okay?” Riley asked, always a mother hen.

“I’m fine, just, check this one without me, I need a moment.”

Riley seemed to understand and didn’t ask questions as they pat him on the back and wandered into the store.

“Do you believe in soulmates?” A voice whispered in your ear as hands made their way around your waist. “Because I feel like we’ve met before and I’d like to get to know you again.”

You could smell the stench of alcohol emanating off the stranger feeling you up in the middle of the dance floor. Rolling your eyes, you ripped his hands off you, turning around and shoving him back for safe measure. 

“I do believe in soulmates, and you sure as hell ain’t mine. But the guy who is doesn’t really take kindly to strangers touching what's his.” 

Before the idiot could open his mouth again, Jisungs arm slid into place across your shoulders, pulling you in for a downright make out session right in the middle of the bars dance floor.

When he finally pulled away, the dude was nowhere to be seen.

“Took you long enough.” You said teasingly.

“Sorry to keep you waiting.” He smiled gently, and then led you to the booth he’d been watching you from.

You shook your head as you splashed water on your face in the bathroom, your best friend, Lia, pacing behind you.

“I thought you wanted to avoid them?”

Lia was the only person you’d confided in after coming to terms with the fact that your soulmates were not one, but two international superstars.

“I did, but, I don’t know. It was like being like that with them was so natural I didn’t even register that we don’t know each other. It felt right.”

“Do you think they know?”

Sighing, you lightly tapped your head against the wall, eyes squeezed shut. “I don’t know. If they don’t yet, we’ve met now, it’s only a matter of time before I start filtering into their memories.”

“Do you want to keep hiding from them? Y/n/n, they know now, there’s no avoiding them not remembering you anymore. Don’t you think avoiding them now will just cause unnecessary pain?”

“I know that! I do. But, I’m not sure I could handle being in their world, and what if they end up resenting me for ruining the good thing they already had? They’ve been together for so long, and then I just blindside them with my existence? What if they didn’t even know they had a third soulmate?”

“Then they do now and they’re probably looking everywhere for them. Those two don’t seem like the type to resent you for coming into their lives, but they might if you enter it just to disappear forever. I get the feeling now that they know, they’ll never stop looking for you. Do you understand that?”

You opened your mouth to answer when the door to the bathroom swung open.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt. I was just looking for someone.” The stranger looked flushed, as if they’d been running, but even so you could tell they were stunning. “Um, neither of you happen to know the song All In, do you?”

You and Lia shot each other confused but nervous looks, which seemed to be enough for this stranger who finally let the bathroom door shut behind them, leaning against it and eyeing you both.

“So which one of you is the runner?”

“What do you mean?”

“One of you just met your two soulmates and then booked it while they had their backs turned, which was it?”

Lia threw her hands up in defense, pointing at you in the process and backing up.

“Traitor.” You mumbled, causing her to stifle a laugh.

The stranger blocking the exit landed their gaze on you, “I ran too.”

Of all the things you were expecting them to say, that was definitely not on the list of possibilities.

“It’s scary,” They continued, pushing off the door and walking towards you. “But the separation is worse. I promise you, it’s better than you can possibly imagine. The company takes good care of us, and while we aren’t allowed to be public, we go pretty much everywhere with the boys if we want to. They don’t do anything to risk our relationships.”

“I’m sorry but, who are you and what do you mean by our?”

“Oh! I’m Riley, I’m Chan’s soulmate. And Changbin found his as well, their name is Bee. I went through the running and being scared of falling for someone in the industry but Bee was already in the industry themself when they found Bin, so it was slightly easier for them. Sorry, I’m rambling, but my point is we’re both here for you and we both understand how you’re feeling. And that those men you just left in the dust are two of the best I’ve ever met, and they’ve been looking for you for a long time.”

That comment shocked you to your core. 

They’ve been looking for you.

“How could they be looking for me, they couldn’t have even known about me.”

Riley seemed to hesitate. “To be honest, none of us believed them. For a while we really just assumed that they found each other at such a young age they’ve never experienced anything but one another, so the whole third soulmate thing was just sort of a way to come to terms with the fact that they wanted a change of pace or something. But, here you are, and we stand corrected. 

“They may not have known you, or known how to find you, but they’ve been searching for their ‘missing piece’ about as long as I’ve known them.” Then Riley quirked their head in a very parental like motion. “You already knew, didn’t you.”

It was phrased as a question, but was completely an irrefutable statement.

“How long have you known?” Where you were expecting harshness or judgment, you received only the sound of sheer curiosity.

“Almost a year now.” You mumbled, arms wrapping around yourself for a sense of security. 

Riley blanched. “A YEAR?!”

You just nodded. 

“Damn hun, I would’ve lost my mind if I’d known who Chris was for a whole year. How the hell did you manage that?!”

“By convincing themself that Minho and Han were already happy and better off without them, that they’d just throw a hitch in their lives that they didn’t need.” Lia stated, you could practically hear her rolling her eyes at you. Riley’s eyes softened at her words.

Grabbing your hands in one hand, Riley brushed a stray piece of hair out of your face, gently cupping your cheek. “I know exactly how you feel. When I found Chris, I ran too. I didn’t think I could survive his work schedule, the expectations placed on him, all the fans claiming him, but he is so worth every single difficulty and so much more. I know you’re scared right now, and it’s probably worse for you because it’s just Chris and me, but Min and Ji already adore you, they could never be happier without you than they will be with you, I can promise you that much.

“I understand if you’re not ready yet. I wasn’t ready for a long time myself, so if it’s okay with you, I want to give you mine and Bee’s numbers, you can reach out to us with any and all questions, concerns, whatever. Heck, if you just want to use them to get to know us, that’s fine too. I didn’t have anyone to help me, but you have us, we’ll help you all the way. Think about it, okay? All three of you will be so much happier together. You aren’t meant to be apart.”

You felt tears stinging your eyes again. You knew Riley was right, you’d always known you’d be happier with them, but you also knew there was no way for you to get their attention, no way for them to actually find you, now that you had, now that they knew you, you were truly out of logical reasons to avoid taking your place by their sides.

Because soulmates are a curious thing. Everyone has them, and someway, somehow, they always find each other.

next part: a life eluded

a/n: ahhhhhh part two, I feel like it’s been done for a while but I’ve been like nervous about it idk, anyways I hope you enjoyed!! I know it’ll run for at least two more parts with potential for spin off(s) on the others finding their soulmates or even ‘prequels’ of Riley and Chan as well as Bee and Changbin🫣🤭 please feel free and encouraged to leave your thoughts and opinions and also lemme know if you’d be interested in being tagged in upcoming parts? ciao!! 🫶

[bythepen98]

N/ purely self-indulgent hhh, plus I always wanted to do something like this when I read a good fic. First attempt at making a webcomic.

Based on @rayshippouuchiha's ShikaNaru fic "The Brightest Flame (The Darkest Shadow)" :D

Rated: M

Tags: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Crack Treated Seriously, BAMF Uzumaki Naruto, Genderfluid Character, Yandere Shikamaru Nara, Smitten Shikamaru Nara, Naruto with Tsunade's Strength, Love At first Chakra Enhanced Strike,.... etc.

Chapters (so far): 2/?

Summary:

Shikamaru’s never felt chakra so vibrant and warm before.

The log that Naruto’s been punching shatters clean apart, reduced to little more than splinters under the devastating force of his chakra enhanced blow.

Shocked and more than a bit startled, Shikamaru wheezes loudly, the sound carrying across the clearing and causing Naruto to abruptly turn and look in his direction.

And in that single moment Shikamaru is lost.

[excerpt]

...because Shikamaru is a Nara to the core, is the strongest they've seen in generations, and the Nara have always been a clan of Shadows after all.

and what does the shadow crave more than the light?

Naruto, with his ocean blue eyes and his golden hair swaying in the breeze his attack had created, shines as bright as the sun itself.

And Shikamaru intends to have him.

(edit: forgot to add this)

..."so much for that quiet wife and two ordinary kids idea."

"Time for a new plan." Because, really, there's no way life with Naruto is going to be any form of quiet or normal.

....Shikamaru's entire life plan has to be thrown out the window and then redrawn from scratch.

Either way Shikamaru's not actually all that upset about his entire life being thrown into an abrupt upheaval.

After all, convincing Naruto to marry him as soon as possible will be well worth the effort.

Naruto's pretty sure this is the closest they've ever actually been to one another outside of the few times they've been paired up to spar in class.

"What're you doing after this?" Shikamaru asks, one hand coming out of his pocket to reach out and play idly with the dangling sleeve of Naruto's kimono.

"After training?" Naruto keeps one eye on Shikamaru's hand...

"More like for the rest of your life," Shikamaru says. "But sure, we can start with training."

Naruto blinks.

.....[Naruto's] not really sure what, exactly, is happening here but he thinks this might mean Shikamaru wants to be his friend now.

Ah my sweet summer child.

Not an exact play by play of what was written in the fic, only the gist I guess and the moment that rly stuck in my head and got me giggling in my pillow.

My love for the "oblivious pure(?) mc and their darker, possessive s/o" trope has struck again. Couldn't've stopped myself from finishing this even when sleep-deprived, which I currently am right now. Had fun challenging myself with this too and might attempt it again with a future chapter or other works depending on my schedule. I'm occupied with studying this month so making something time extensive like this won't happen for awhile yet.

Excitedly waiting for updates :D

[berylcups]

La Squadra x Reader: What makes them laugh

CW: suggestive behavior (Melone being Melone), getting scared, food, spicy food, annoyed pets( no pets real or imaginary were harmed in this post), gamer rage, language barriers, minor DNI

Notes: some of the videos suggest may or may not be offensive to you or your morals (mostly referring to cart narcs and some Gi Joe PSAs) so please view at your own discretion and mental health in mind! This is a post made for funsies and not meant to harm in anyway. Humor is subjective and as someone with privilege but also is AuDHD there maybe somethings I overlooked. Just know that Beryl loves you all and cares about you all 💜 Also regarding Prosciutto…he might be a little OOC. The only real humor I could see him having is like boomer humor or political humor but that is such a gross yucky subject and I want to keep this post as positive as possible. I hope I did him justice! I hope you enjoy either way! 💜 Beryl

Risotto

What type of humor do they have?: dark humor/ jump scare reactions

How do they laugh?: he has a low deep rumble of a chuckle when he does laugh it almost sounds like an evil villain’s laughter. It’s a little intimidating! But don’t tell him that we want him to laugh more! 🖤

Anything you do make them laugh?: anytime something makes you jump he can’t help but let out a chuckle. Whether someone shows up in your line of sight suddenly and it startles you, or a loud noise makes you scream like a crack of lightning.

You were in the kitchen of the base sneaking a piece of a cake, you knew nobody else was home so you could easily steal the last piece of strawberry cake. You felt so evil, you couldn’t help but giggle to yourself!

As soon as you took a forkful and put it near your mouth, a flash of lightning struck and you felt a massive hand on your shoulder with hot breath on your neck.

“…that’s the last piece…I hope you plan on sharing it Y/N…” you heard a deep voice rumble.

The pure rush of adrenaline jolted through you like the lightning outside and you jumped up, dropping the plate and letting out the most high pitched pathetic screech. The plate shattered all over the kitchen floor completely ruining the cake.

“Damn it Risotto! Don’t scare me like that!” You whined. “Stop being invisible and show yourself!”

He chuckled as he revealed himself, he had a rare shit eating grin on his face.

“Sorry… I really couldn’t help myself. It was the perfect opportunity to get you like that.” He snickered as rubbed your head.

“Sigh…I’m happy that you are enjoying yourself. But I almost peed myself and I dropped a perfectly good piece of cake.” You whined.

“Well I hate to say it but karma is a bitch. That’s what happens when you try to sneak off with the last piece.” He smirked as he got out the broom and dust pan.

“And I would have gotten away with it too if it wasn’t for you being a creeper.” You huffed.

What types of videos make them laugh?: jumpscare reactions- especially if it’s older people playing the scary maze. He thinks it’s hilarious! But he feels bad when he sees little kids get scared, that’s not funny to him 😞 any kid age 12+ though is fine with him- it’s time for them to grow up 😈

Any examples?: nothing specific- look for videos of people getting tricked into getting jump scared 😅 like scary maze, the video of the car driving down through the hills, FNAF, etc.

Formaggio

What type of humor do they have?: funny memes/ voice over parodies

How do they laugh?: he starts off with a goofy low deep chuckle then as it progresses it turns into a roaring laughter where he’s gasping and holding his stomach. Very infectious 🤭

Anything you do make them laugh?: This guy is all giggles! It’s never hard to make him laugh. But his favorite thing is when you reference his favorite videos.

“Hey hey hey~! Get off the counter Asiago!” You scolded the cat. The grey furball turned its butt at you and continued to prance across the counter. “Oh? We’re playing this game huh? Don’t make me give you a body massage~…”

“Who wants a body massage?”you asked in a deep voice, picking up the cat off the counter before she could escape.

“Mister body massage machine GO” you aggressively rubbed the cats belly.

“Pfft hey~! Where’s my body massage?” He laughed watching you playfully manhandle the cat.

“Make me some pork chop sandwiches and maybe zaddy will give ya a body massage!” You struggled to say through your giggling.

The cat was fed up with both of your guys bullshit and jumped out of your arms and ran off hissing.

What types of videos make them laugh?: GI Joe PSAs, Jaboody Dubs- he loves silly voice overs of his favorite American cartoons. Taking them out of context and rewriting the dialogue makes him want to piss himself from laughter.

Any examples?: Pork Chop Sandwiches! I’m a computer, stop all the downloading!

Illuso

What type of humor do they have?: “nailed it “ humor

How do they laugh?: He laughs just as obnoxiously as he does in the dub. Its very unflattering and he sounds like a hyena. Despite that, it’s very contagious!

Anything you do make them laugh?: when you tried to make cute rainbow cupcakes and all the colors bled together making it look like an absolute disaster. The icing melted and the rainbow candy wouldn’t retain its rainbow shape...Its just a sugary sticky mess.

“Ha-Nice job. Very well done.” Illuso snickered. “It looks like a leprechaun vomited all over your cake pan!” he howled.

“It looks so fucking miserable! Did you even try???” he cackled. “Next time, leave the baking to me!”

“Oh fuck off Lulu.”you groaned, rubbing your temples in frustration. “Anytime I pintrest anything, it always-ALWAYS goes wrong.”

He wiped the tears from his face as he tried to calm himself down from his high.

“Hey, hey… Calm down Y/N. Baking is very fickle. I’ll help you out next time. You did the best you could. Trial and error is unfortunately part of the baking process” he said rubbing your back.

“I just really wanted some cute tasty cupcakes…”you pouted.

“I could tell. You didn’t let the cupcakes cool long enough before you put the icing on them. That's why it melted right off.” he stuck a finger in one of the cakes and tasted the frosting. “Mmm…still tastes good though. Lets just eat them anyway. Ugly cake is still good cake.”

.

What types of videos make them laugh?: “Nailed it” show, parkour/stunt fails, live tv bloopers/ fails, makeup fails

Any examples?: grape lady falls

Pesci

What type of humor do they have?: cute animal humor

How do they laugh?: he tries to hold back his laughs but fails with an adorable snort. He has a giggle that sounds like pure joy from an angel. 😇 It’s a big belly laugh and it’s hard not to laugh along with him. Hearing his laugh is always going to put you in a good mood! 😁

Anything you do make them laugh?: when you panic and freak out holding an upset octopus that you accidentally caught while fishing.

“lil guppy~! Put down the camera and help me~! Ow ow ow!” You squealed trying to pry to the angry octopuses suction cups off of you.

“My poor precious pearl! Don’t worry! I’ll help you!” He quickly took a few more pictures of your scuffle with the cephalopod and walked over to gently but firmly pull the tentacles off your face and chest.

He wrangled the fuming octopus and gently but swiftly removed the hook from it. He then he quickly dropped it back into its home in the sea.

“Oh thank god… Thank you Pesci. You’re my hero!” You sighed in relief and rubbed the sore spots the suction cups left.

. “You’re very welcome Y/N. I’m just thankful you’re okay. You weren’t in any real danger. Octopus encounters are just really uncomfortable.” Pesci looks at you and your red splotches, making a gentle giggle.

“What’s so funny??” You whined, putting hands on your hips. You were annoyed he was laughing after a moment like this but knowing how kind he was you’d give him a moment to explain himself.

“The octopus gave you a bunch of welts making it look like you have polka dots!” He laughed light-heartedly. “ you poor thing, I’ll have to give you some cream to help your irritated skin.”

“Sigh… I’m so accident prone. Maybe it was a bad idea to join you on your fishing trips.” You pouted.

“No! Not at all!” He said, giving you a big reassuring hug . “ I love having you with me! I want you to come with me all the time!…only if you want to of course.”

“I’d love too.” You smiled. “As long as I don’t catch anymore angry octopi.” You softly giggled.

What types of videos make them laugh?: he loves watching cat and dog videos of them being silly and doing goofy things! He has a wholesome sense of humor.

Any examples?: Today I groomed a new species | the weirdest cat ever. Cat barking like dog. Dog of wisdom

Prosciutto

What type of humor do they have?: instant karma

How do they laugh?: he has a deep, rich laughter. It sounds very indulgent. It starts out with a mild wheeze then a chuckle that rumbles out of his chest. He has a habit to put a hand to his forehead and shake his head before he really starts laughing. If you have a voice kink his laughter might make you start acting unwise 😳

Anything you do make them laugh?: it has nothing to do with his type of humor but you underestimate something. You were weak to heat but you thought you could handle some of Prosciuttos pasta arrabiata. You… couldn’t handle it at all.

You were having lunch with your beloved partner. You were eating Gnocchi Sorrentina and he had Pasta Arrabiata. It looked so good and smelled good too. You wanted a taste.

“Hey Prosci, let me have a bite of your pasta pretty please? It looks sooo good!” You said trying not to drool.

“Hmm?” He raised an eyebrow. “I’m more than happy to share amore, but it’s very spicy. I know you don’t do well with spicy foods… are you sure you want to try it?” He asked.

“I know I’m weak to spice but it can’t be THAT spicy. Your nose isn’t even running and you're not sweating! I can handle it!” You reassured him. “May I have just a bite please?”

He seemed a little wary but he took a forkful and guided it towards your mouth.

“Okay amore. Here you go. Open up.” He said bring the fork closer to your lips.

You opened your mouth happily inviting the food into your mouth. You chewed as you felt your senses overcome you. Perfectly al dente pasta and a delicious tomato sauce tantalizing your taste buds.

“Oh my~! Prosci it’s so goo-“an unsettling sensation overcame your mouth. You felt your nose get runny and the sweat begin to form on your skin. The heat in your mouth has made itself known. You could feel it in all your soft tissues, your throat, and even your teeth!

“So..so hot!” You panicked. You jump up from your chair and scramble to the sink to drink water directly from the tap.

Prosciutto wheezed and let a hearty laugh out of his chest.

“I told you it was going to be spicy Y/N!” He wheezed.

“I didn’t think it was going to be THAT spicy!” You gargled. “Ahh~ the pain won’t stop!”

“Drink milk amore. Fats neutralize the capsaicin.” He chucked as watched.

You slammed open the fridge and grabbed the milk and drank straight from it, not caring it was for Pesci. You’d buy him a new one. You drank the rest of the leftover milk panting hard.

“Feel better?” He asked.

“ Yeah… the pain is gone. But now I’m going to have to worry about my lactose intolerance later…” you panted. “I owe Pesci a new milk jug.”

“We’ll worry about that when we come to it.” He said kissing your forehead.

What types of videos make them laugh?: anything to do with instant karma or people getting what they deserve… he looks like he’d enjoy public freakouts/karens getting what they deserve 😂

Any examples?: nothing specific, maybe CartNarcs? He’d like watching people messing with others and then they end up failing at their pranks or they end up getting served 😅

Melone

What type of humor do they have?: “That’s what she said “/ dirty minded humor & video game humor

How do they laugh?: he starts with a giggle and has a somewhat feminine light laugh. It’s very attractive

Anything you do make them laugh?: when you get frustrated playing video games and falling at them. 😅

You were sitting in front of the tv frustrated. You KNOW if you did enough backwards long jumps in rapid succession you could get through the endless stairs and to the final fight with bowser.

“Ugh… come on! It’s soooo hard!” You moaned in frustration.

“That’s what she said.” Melone snickered as he watched you helplessly try to glitch your way up the stairs.

“Ugh shut it Mel.” You hissed.

You kept trying and trying… no success. Your hands were beginning to cramp up.

“Aaah~! My hands! They’re cramping! Finish already!” You bitched.

“That’s what she said~.” He giggled louder.

“Melone! Not right now!” You barked.

“Now now Y/N… it’s just a game ~” he waved his finger at you.

You got so close, but your hands cramped up and spasmed. You had enough and threw your controller to the side.

“WELL FUCK ME SIDEWAYS!” You screeched. “ I give up!”

“That can be arranged ~” he purred while rubbing your shoulders. “ Calm down Y/N, it’s just a game… if you want you can take frustration out on me if you know what I mean ~.” He said kissing the shell of your ear.

“Sigh. ok, fine.” You giggled. “ You always know how to put me in a better mood.”

What types of videos make them laugh?: video game glitches, bad video game hacks

Any examples?: streamers or lets-players: ex: Vargskelethor, Vinesauce, Jerma, (my top 3 personally!) or overly popular YTubers like Pewdiepie, Markiplier, etc…

Ghiaccio

What type of humor do they have?: typos/ illiteracy/ misheard words

How do they laugh?: he always tries to hold his laughs in a “Pffft” if it’s really funny he wheezes before he laughs hard holding his ribs. It’s rare but he does laugh!

Anything you do make them laugh?: when you struggle to roll your R’s and say an Italian word but in the wrong way.

“Ghia~ can you bring me the pene for the pasta salad?” You asked, chopping the vegetables.

“Pffft what did you say?” He asked holding back a chuckle.

“You know! The pene pasta! The tube shaped pasta with the tip at the ends!” You said trying to be more specific.

“I have a pene but not pene PASTA.” He wheezed. “We have PENNE pasta.”

“Uh duh! That’s what I just said! What’s gotten into you today?” You huffed grabbing the bowl of pasta out of his hands.

“Y/N… Pene and Penne are two ENTIRELY DIFFERENT things.” He chuckled while wiping a tear from his eye.

“They sound the same! You just say the N a microsecond longer. It can’t be THAT funny! So tell me what I’ve been saying!” You whined

“Cock pasta. You said you were making cock pasta. Not very appetizing if you ask me. Penne is what you want to say- that means pen. Hence the pen shape of the pasta.” He snickered.

“So that’s why all the guys were laughing at me when I was raving about pasta arrabiata with penne?! And you didn’t fucking tell me???” You screeched.

The blue haired man crumpled into a laughing mess gripping his sides. “You can’t blame me for that fuck up! It was a perfect Language barrier!”

What types of videos make them laugh?: misheard lyrics and song parodies, Bone-app-the-teeth type compilations

Any examples?: how is prangent formed? Curse of the weggy board

[writer-in-theory]

Me and You, & Your Uncle Wayne — part two.

Summary: Eddie tells his Uncle Wayne about him and Steve. Pairing: Steve Harrington x Eddie Munson Content Warnings: Period-Typical Homophobia Read on Ao3 Part One || Part Three Masterlist

-

It takes a week for Wayne to meet Steve Harrington for the first time.

He's at Melvald's, trying to pick up a few things they needed for dinner and the lightbulbs Eddie keeps reminding him to find. It was supposed to be a quick trip, but then he sees the source of all his anxieties himself. Joyce Byers is struggling with a box from the backroom when Steve Harrington walks into the store, and the boy doesn't even hesitate before he's jogging over and lifting the box out of her hands, even nodding for her to add a couple others to the load. Where Robert Harrington was all cruel smirks and judging eyes, Steve appears to be wide smiles and soft looks, hair falling in his face messily as he nods emphatically at whatever Joyce was saying.

Wayne Munson generally likes to keep to himself. He's not one to pry into anyone's business, and certainly not in this town. But he finds himself moving to the aisle closest to the pair, busying himself looking at garbage bags and little plastic storage bags he doesn't need so he can hear better.

"Will just keeps asking when the two of you can go on another college tour. I don't know what you told him but he seems excited again," Joyce was telling Steve. Wayne knew Will Byers, had heard of the kid who'd gone missing for weeks only to appear alive and well even after finding a body. He remembers all too well the days he and Eddie joined the search party, desperate to find the kid that everyone thought had been taken by his deadbeat dad. The whole time Wayne couldn't help but think that, just a few years ago, that could've been his own boy they gathered search parties for. Will Byers was a handful of years younger than Steve, and as far as Wayne was aware there wasn't a familial connection to link the pair. It didn't make sense for the guy to be driving Will out to college campuses, not when there surely had to be anyone better for the job.

Steve shrugged, setting down the boxes and beginning to unload one of them. "Nothing special. We played catch on the lawn of Purdue, talked."

"It's special to me, Steve. It really has Will excited to graduate again. Johnathan and I have tried to hard to get through to him, so thank you." The pair continued to chat, but Wayne was struck by the oddity of the encounter. Steve, the rough kid who bullied others and shoved his daddy's money in everyone's faces was driving the Byers kid to college campuses and playing catch to make him feel better about the upcoming change—and it didn't make sense, not really.

But maybe it did make a little more sense, after all. Because Eddie was a good kid with a heart of gold, he wouldn't have fallen for mean stares and harsh words. He wouldn't have been drawn in by the promise of money and a distant husband, he would have fallen for this—Steve, taking time out of his day to help Joyce Byers, spending his weekends comforting a scared kid he had no obligation to. Eddie would have fallen for the kindness.

Wayne is struck by it again in the parking lot. He thought Steve had already left, but the kid was leaning against Wayne's car when he exits the shop. "What can i do for you, kid?" he asks, trying to shove as much as he could into those words. He hadn't seen much of Eddie that week, and what he did was pure shut-out. He couldn't get two words in to prove that this was a misunderstanding, that there was no reality in which Wayne didn't accept and love his nephew, his son, as he was.

"I know it's hard to think about," Steve began, arms crossed and eyes turned to look to the side instead of at Wayne. "That whatever life you had thought up for Eddie isn't possible, with me," Steve continued, voice lowering at the last two words though there was no one else around to pick them up. "But please try. This is crushing him, having to pick between me and you. I don't want to be the reason he loses you, so if you can't get the idea of him being...you know, then I'll step back. Just please, don't kick him out."

"I'm not above kicking your ass if you do that," Wayne found himself saying, huffing out a laugh at the deer in headlights look Steve gave him. "There's no pickin' between us, son."

"I don't—I'm—what?" the Harrington boy forced out, looking as confused as Wayne had ever seen a person. And just standing there looking at him Wayne has himself wondering how he'd ever doubted Eddie's thought process here. Because sure, Steve was the spitting image of his father—big hazel eyes and that Harrington nose Robert used to brag about, a letterman tossed over whatever he was wearing because Wayne wasn't sure there was ever a time when a Harrington wasn't on all the varsity teams. But the way the kid stood now, unafraid to be seen with someone who lived in the trailer park on the edge of town, entire expression soft in a way he's sure Robert's had never been as he begged Wayne to please just never stop loving Eddie, Wayne wondered if Steve was related to Robert at all.

"Let me get one thing straight, there is nothin' that boy can do to lose me," Wayne got out, shaking his head and sniffing to cover up the slight waver in his voice now. Because Eddie was hurting, and he didn't know how long he'd been hurting wondering how Wayne would react to any of this. Then he'd gone and said the wrong thing, and now he had Steve Harrington of all people asking him to do better. "Nothing. You hear me?"

Steve nodded slowly, but there was no sense of clarity washing over his face yet.

"You know this town better'n anyone, son," Wayne tried again, hoping to get the point across without having to say it out loud. "What d'you think they'd do to my boy if they found out who he loved. Better yet, what would they do if they found out he'd 'corrupted' the Harrington boy?"

"He didn't corru—"

"You know that. I know that. But d'you really think they give a shit? They've been waiting for an excuse to get rid of him from the day we moved back here." Wayne took a step forward then, nodding when Steve finally moved away from his car. "I've never cared what Eddie does as long he's happy. But I do care about you doin' anything that'll hurt him."

"I won't," Steve protested quickly, forcing eye contact to prove just how much he meant what he said. "We've been through so m—I won't ever hurt him, Mr. Munson. I can promise you that."

Wayne watched the boy for a moment, trying to see if there was any hint of the guy who threw insulting slurs around like they were nothing. Instead all he saw was that fierce love he'd always wanted for Eddie, he saw someone who was ready to protect Eddie in the way the kid always deserved. And sure, Wayne would have never guessed Eddie would have ever picked Steve Harrington, but he supposed he understood why now.

"It's Wayne," he corrected simply, raising a brow as Steve nodded and started walking away. "Hey, if you're comin' to dinner you might's well hop in," he offered, nodding back to his own car.

"I'm coming to dinner?"

"You are now. Eddie can introduce his boyfriend properly."

-

tagging some people who interacted with part one (sorry if this bothers anyone!): @jbnfo @tsukiwashere @innocentbi-stander @r1ver-6 @2btheanswertothequestion @sapphirecobalt-1 @justice-for-eddie-munson @absentlurker @route1961

[astraystayyh]

Serenity

Pairing: Hyunjin x reader, pre-established relationship.

Genre: Fluff!!!!!!

Summary: You and Hyunjin always read together before sleeping, but tonight he reads to you.

A soft scenario in honor of Hyunjin's birthday, featuring my favorite book :,) i hope y'all enjoy and please let me know if you do <3

When Hyunjin moved in with you, you found yourself falling into a quiet nightly routine with him.

You'd brush your teeth together in the bathroom, applying your respective skincare and making silly faces at each other through the mirror. You'd tidy the bed while he prepared two cups of tea, chamomile to be exact; and then you'd each grab a book to read.

It felt comforting- to simply exist in each other's presence and for it to be this peaceful; a serene moment to look forward to each day.

But tonight, you were exhausted- physically and emotionally. You didn't have the energy to do anything, let alone read. Hyunjin noticed since he diligently applied your skincare for you, pecking your nose in between each product.

When you finally lay in bed, he grabs the book you were reading last night- 'The song of Achilles', and you look at him confused.

"Let me read for you, yeah? Just relax for me, angel", he smiles and you nod silently, getting comfortable in his hold. His arm is draped around your shoulder; his fingers gently grazing up and down the curve of your body. And your head is on his chest- you can faintly hear his heartbeat, steady and calm, your personal lullaby.

"What had Deidameia thought would happen, I wondered, when she had her women dance for me?", he picks up where you left off and you close your eyes, savoring the sound of his voice. It sounded like the most enchanting melody to you.

"Had she really thought I would not know him? I could recognize him by touch alone, by smell; I would know him blind, by the way his breaths came and his feet struck the earth. I would know him in death, at the end of the world".

Hyunjin pauses for a while and you look up at him, assuming that he fell asleep. But to your surprise, you find him intently staring down at you. His eyes are shining brightly and you smile softly at him.

"Why did you stop?".

"This is really beautiful", he whispers and you nod in agreement, "Their love is very pure".

"So is ours, don't you think?",  he asks quietly, twirling a strand of your hair around his finger.

"So is ours", you grin, meeting his lips in a sweet kiss. His hand cradles your jaw, pulling you closer to him in a way that makes stars dance in front of your eyes.

When you finally lean away, he grabs your hand in his, squeezing it lightly. "I'll recognize you too... In death, at the end of the world", his voice is thick with emotion and you feel your heart skip a beat. 

"I really really really love you, my beautiful boy", you whisper and he smiles cheekily at your words.

"How could you not when I'm this perfect", he winks and you swat his arm playfully, "Remind me to never confess my love to you again".

"You will still do it", a chaste kiss on your forehead, "when we are thirty", a kiss on your nose, "forty", a kiss on your cheek, "and sixty", a final kiss on your lips, "you'll still confess".

"You forgot fifty", you tease and he gently hits your head with the book, an adorable pout adorning his face.

"I'm kidding, babyyy", you singsong, "I'll always love you, you already know that".

"Good. Now let me continue, I wanna know what happens next", he tells you and you chuckle, "Don't let me stop you".

As Hyunjin reads some more to you, the heaviness in your heart slowly disappears and your love for him fills the void instead- it's all you can feel within you when you finally fall asleep.

[sassycheesecake]

Hello sweet cheeks 🙊🙊🙊

How's your day with me bugging you all the time 😂💃🏻

So I was wondering if you could write about meeting Kuroo, Iwazumi, Daichi and Akaashi for the first time, it can be before or after the time skip whatever makes you feel comfortable

Thank you in advance 🙈❤️

Don’t worry! You can never bug me 😂

I’ll gladly do that for you, I did Kuroo pre-timeskip and the others post-timeskip. I hope that’s okay. Enjoy! ❤️

You met the cheeky Middle Blocker Captain in high school. Precisely in one of the home rooms that you guys share together unknowingly.

Your teacher called you and Kuroo after class together, stating that your science grade is extremely bad and Kuroo’s grade in English is pretty much embarrassing to look at. But thankfully English is your best subject and Science is Kuroo’s.

So your annoying teacher put the two of you together, hoping that you can get each others grades up by studying together.

The two of you met up at the library the next afternoon after school, Kuroo being benched temporarily, until his grades improve.

The ravenette is a very attractive attentive teacher, explaining things to you so easily, that even a preschooler can understand it. He mixes humor and studying togther, mostly humor though.

Saying stupid chemistry jokes, making fun of other teachers and making you laugh uncontrollably by doing it.

Every time you would study together, Kuroo scooches closer to you each time with his chair.

He loves hearing your laugh, it’s the most beautiful thing he has heard in his 18 years of living.

After two months, Kuroo developed a big fat crush on you, not knowing you also started to feel the jiggles whenever you would see him at lunch in the cafeteria or in the hallway with his teammates from the volleyball club.

Kuroo started smiling a lot more and it doesn’t get unnoticed by his best friend.

The Nekoma team is on their way to the gym to go to practice when Kuroo spots you walking down the hall with one of your friends.

"Who’s that?" Kenma asks intrigued.

Kuroo keeps his hazelnut-colored eyes on you, as you walk down the hall with your friend and Kenma sees a gleam in his best friend’s eyes.

"Someone I will definitely want to get to know better and spend more time with."

The first time you met Iwaizumi Hajime, it was the day his kid got into trouble at school. His son, who is an exact replica of his father, stood up for a girl who got bullied by another boy. The little Iwaizumi boy warned the mean boy twice before he struck him down with a fist.

You as their home room teacher obviously had to call the parents, even if Isamu, the son of Hajime only did it to stand up for someone.

All the children have been picked up by their parents and you are just waiting in front of the school for Isamu’s father, who has a busy job but still has to talk to you about his son’s behavior.

When you met Isamu’s father, you weren’t prepared for a 6'1 man made out of pure muscle to show up in front of the school. His track suit had the volleyball logo and the Japanese flag on his front chest pocket and you have to pinch yourself to snap out of your drooling.

When Iwaizumi and you talked about Isamu’s behavior, the strict father scolded his son immediately but was also confused why he was violent towards a classmate because Isamu never strikes.

You assured him that Isamu stood up for a girl and that he won’t be punished for what he did and Iwaizumi feels his stomach doing small somersaults when he listens to your voice.

Thanking you for not punishing his son, Iwaizumi promises you that this won’t happen again.

With a blush and a smile on yours and the Athletic Trainer’s face, you part ways and the dark-brown haired man can’t help but be curious why his son was violent.

"Isamu, why did you punch that boy? I know I didn’t teach you to hit other kids even if they are mean." Hajime frowns at his 7 year-old.

"Uncle Tōru told me to ‘kick ass’ if someone is mean to someone else. He said I shouldn’t tell you or you will fly to Argentine and kick his." Isamu said nonchalantly while munching on his dumpling, walking beside his father to the car.

Iwaizumi can already feel his rage building up, thinking all sorts of ways how he can strangle Oikawa to teach his son this way to handle bullies.

When the Athletic Trainer remembers your kind face from just now, he can’t fight the smile that begins to grow on his face.

Maybe he will start picking his son up more often now, instead of sending Hanamaki or Matsukawa when he is too busy with work.

Funny enough, you met Daichi Sawamura when he was about to write you a speeding ticket.

You just got dumped by your ex via text message and to say you were furious about this cowardly way to break up with someone, is an understatement. (I got dumped once via text as a teen and I swear I wanted to set the world on fire)

So you were maybe driving a little bit over the speed limit, big deal.

What you didn’t expect though, is to have the hottest cop in town pulling you over for speeding.

You were so red in the face from anger, embarrassment and nervousness that Daichi honestly thought you were on drugs or something because you kept stammering when you talked.

You vented about the person that left you and Daichi listened intensely, hearing you out.

Luckily for you, he has a weakness for a beautiful messes like yourself.

He let you off with a warning, giving you a piece of paper anyway.

You’re about to crumble it up when you saw what he wrote down.

'Next time you’re thinking of speeding, don’t. Be safe and call me if you want to talk :) xxx-xxxx-xxxx'

Manga Editor Keiji Akaashi, the beautiful ravenette with the gorgeous blue eyes.

The two of you met at a coffee shop, while Akaashi needed to work some more on his deadline at work, he needed a good strong coffee to be able to stay awake.

Luckily, there’s a nearby store with the name ‘Night’s watch', a coffee shop who is only open at night.

Akaashi hasn’t tried that shop yet but according to some of the ravenette’s coworkers, it’s Game of Thrones themed.

When Akaashi enters the shop, he has to say he’s impressed with the interior design.

The room is decorated like an old tavern from the Middle Ages, some seats have sheep’s fur on them, the black stone walls decorated with swords from the show, some coats of arms of the House Targaryen, House Stark and House Baratheon.

It’s a cozy atmosphere and the drinks are not that expensive.

You were working as the barista that day and you were wearing the Hand of the King pin, meaning you are in charge of the shop if the owner is not in.

You are also kind forced to speak in Old English to costumers but thankfully you’re a literature student so it’s a piece of cake for you.

Akaashi thought you were incredibly charming and while you made his order ready, the two of you got to talk a little bit.

Funnily enough, you went to the same school but never crossed each other’s path.

Seems like Akaashi will drop by more, because it gave him some new ideas for manga tropes.

[saphirafoxgirlspost1]

(Halloween Open Rp) in "I Created a Lover"

Long time Ago, in the Small town Called"Middleton"..Saphira has been Living the small town Since she moved from her Home City of Tokyo, Japan...But That very Fatal night Where Saphira was Betrayed by her Now Sorry excuse of an Ex-boyfriend Named "Ronald Stoppable" Whom he betrayed her By Sleeping with her best friend Name "Kimberly Ann Possible" and her Arch Bully name "Bonnie Rockweller"...Now Not Only he Cheated On Saphira with two other women, He Stood her out on many dates, Never Bother to Show up at the hospital Nor checking up on her to see if she's alright, He Never Show love and appreciated after all her Sacrifices she made from Mission after every Mission that she's been going through, and attempt to Steal Saphira's money and Her Family money as well...But before He was giving a second Chance..She lost her 2 unborn twins..until Serena..but sadly Died a stillborn ...She gives Ron an Ultimanium Either He Step up and be a father of saphira's kids...Or leave and force to pay child support..after she caught ron kissing Kim...But on that night after the prom..Saphira Now Knew His true colors..She was Completely Furious at him and she said,,

*Throws Ron, kim, and Bonnie Outside along with Rons stuff and belongings* Saph:"You are no longer welcomed to my house Ronald! After all I've been going through with you and you Never treated me like a queen! instead..you Betray me!..Mark my words Ronald! You'll be hearing from my lawyers and I'll see you in Court after graduations!!" No matter How many times ron Beg saphira Forgiveness, She always refuse and never brought him home...After graduated...the Court finds Ron, Kim, and Bonnie "Guilty" For involving the murder of Saphira's beloved daughter serena, Embezzlement and Negligent as well... Saphira is rewarded 50,000$ compensation each from Them...Ron, Kim, and Bonnies parents was living..but they apoligize on their behalf..but saphira accepted the money as compensation from them.. but those 3 was force to work to pay them back...then Saphira Sits down on the chair all heartbroken and all..until..She sees the movie frankenstine..and she decided to create a man of her life...So She began to find a hot fresh body from the grave yard and brought it into her home...She began to replace a good organs..and even his good dick and replace it with a Bigger one as well..including the balls too...and then..She create a potion to become a hot, obsessive, and compassionate and man with pure passion as well who will treat her right like she deserves...and then..She said to siren, Saphira: "SIREN! Raise the body that the storm has arrived!!" Siren:"Yes Mistress" She raise the body as saphira laughs like a mad Scientist..and then she said, Saph:"Dear Creator of beings! I created this love of my life! I command you to make my creation Live!! live i say! struck my creation and make it Live again!! and Be My love that I deserve!!"

Then the Lightning Struck the body and Siren turn on the switch...and then few minutes later...Siren turn it off and saphira ordered her to lower the body..and then..Saphira began to take a look and remove and saw a hot, handsome long haired man and looked at him and check the pulse...and it was nothing...She sighs softly..until..Saphira saw the hands moving and she said;

Saphira laughs and she said "Rise my darling~ your lover is here...please..speak darling, speak with your Sweet Minds that i gave it to you...a good brain that i gave it to you...so please..tell me darling~~..who's your lover~~?" She asked..and then...He answers with a groan...

[lazycats-stuff]

Tim drake x male reader

Angst where reader is dating tim and readers old boyfriend ( derek )comes back for reader and tim is really insecure so he thinks reader will actually go back to him. Which causes a massive break up with the both of them. And like 3 years later they meet again and tim finds out reader never got with derek cause cuz him loves too much

Ah yes, angst and fluff, my favorite thing. With a happy ending too, I hate sad endings. Also, I made the meet up far more dramatic then I should have, but hey.

Summary: Tim and (Y/N) are happily together. Until (Y/N)'s ex, Derek comes into the picture. Afterwards, it's pure chaos.

Warnings: angst and fluff, happy ending, break up, insecure Tim,

Tim didn't know how he managed to get together with (Y/N). He was social and very friendly. Not that Tim wasn't friendly, but he wasn't social by any means. If he could stay inside and investigate all night, he would do it. But that changed a bit with (Y/N).

(Y/N) would make sure that he ate and that he tried to sleep for at least 6 hours. Not even Bruce could do that to Tim. And another amazing feat that (Y/N) has achieved was the fact that the entire family loved him. Bruce already adopted him emotionally.

And more importantly, Tim was happy with (Y/N) and (Y/N) was happy with Tim. Bruce just wanted Tim to be happy.

Everything changed one day when Tim and (Y/N) were out. It was a nice day and according to (Y/N), Tim was couped up and he needed some fresh air. Tim protested, using the cases as an excuse, but (Y/N) level him with a look and saying that he will tell Bruce.

Tim accepted defeat.

Hand in hand, they were walking in the park. Tim had to agree, it was a good idea to be out, in the fresh air and the sun.

" (Y/N)! "

That made both Tim and (Y/N) turn their heads. Tim tensed up and (Y/N) was just confused. Who was calling him? But once he turned around he recognized the person who called his name.

" Hey Derek, " (Y/N) said, waving at him.

" Hey, long time no see. " Derek said, eyes falling down on Tim's and (Y/N)'s hands.

" New boyfriend? " Derek asked, making (Y/N) nod.

" Yes, this is Tim, Tim this is my ex boyfriend Derek. " (Y/N) introduced the two men to each other. Tim's eyes looked Derek up and down. Derek was good looking, smiling and Tim could already tell that he was the popular kid in school.

Tim felt a ping of jealousy. A voice at the back of his mind. He buried it and shook his free hand with Derek.

" Well, Tim, you are lucky to have him. " Derek said. Tim tried not to get angry, knowing that there is no double meaning behind Derek's words.

" Nice to see you again (Y/N), but I have to go. If you want we can hang out later, a double date if you want. You still have my number? "

" I do. See you later then. " (Y/N) said goodbye and Tim just waived him off.

Tim was never jealous or possessive, but now he was questioning everything.

" So, he was your ex? " Tim started, knowing that he will look him up later.

" Yeah, we grew up together and we got together. We broke up when he moved away. " (Y/N) said, smiling at the memories. Tim just nodded and they went back to their walk, but Tim couldn't shake off that voice in his mind.

(Y/N) got back into contact with Derek and Tim was not really happy, but he didn't want to look like a possessive and jealous boyfriend. (Y/N) is allowed to talk to anybody that he wants. He didn't look into (Y/N)'s phone because he trusted him.

" Hey, are you coming? " (Y/N) asked Tim, who was laying down on the bed, laptop next to him.

" Where? " Tim asked, confused.

" On a double date with Derek. You know he mentioned it a few days ago. Don't tell me you forgot it. " (Y/N) asked.

" In my defense, I have patrol later. " Tim said, smiling sheepishly. (Y/N) sighed, shaking his head with a fond smile on his face. He gave Tim a kiss before leaving the apartment. Tim's smile fell and a feeling of dread filled him. The voice struck him once more, but with much more force.

Ugly, antisocial, weak...

Tim shook his head. He was going on patrol now, feeling like something was wrong.

Tim was crouching on the roof, watching the live camera feed from the bar that (Y/N) and Derek were in. He didn't like how Derek was touchy with (Y/N). He scowled and just watched. He had an audio too, so he listened in.

" So you are with a Wayne huh? " Derek asked and Tim's jaw twitched.

" Yes. And what's with that tone of yours? " (Y/N) asked, sensing something else under that tone. " I know you long enough to know when you are angry. "

Derek was silent for a moment, before ordering a shot of tequila. Tim knew something big was going to come out of Derek's mouth. You don't need tequila if you are confident in something you are about to say.

" I'm still in love with you. "

Tim felt his heart shatter. Of course. Who wants a nerdy, ugly boyfriend? He turned off the feed before he could hear what (Y/N) was going to say. Tim took a deep breath. Just as he thought that (Y/N) was the one...

(Y/N) came home upset at lies Derek told him. First that it was a double date, then the lies he said about Tim and his family. And now the confession... He loved Tim and always will.

He went straight to Tim's apartment, expecting to be alone. He nearly died of shock when he saw Tim.

" Tim you scared me. I thought you had patrol. " (Y/N) said taking his jacket off. He noticed how quiet Tim was and that scared him. Tim was normally quiet, but this was different.

" Hey Tim, is everything okay? "

" Oh it is. How was your date with Derek? " Tim asked, scratching his chin.

" It was not that good. " (Y/N) said, finally facing Tim. " But seriously, what's wrong? "

" Nothing, I just think that he didn't show out of the blue. " Tim started, watching (Y/N)'s reaction.

" What do you mean? "

" I think he is still in love with you. And I think that you share the same sentiment. " Tim said, laying it out on the table.

(Y/N) looked at him like he was insane. " Tim, are you insane? I love you. "

" I mean, he confessed to you! And who would want an ugly nerd, who lives off of coffee and is a vigilante who gets back home at questionable hours? I mean everyone would go for Derek. "

" I'm sorry, you followed me? " (Y/N) asked, shocked that Tim would do that.

" I had a bad feeling, so I tapped into the camera feed. " Tim said, making (Y/N) scoff.

" Well, if you listened long enough you would know that I rejected him. " (Y/N) defended himself. " Tim, I love you. That's why I'm with you. " (Y/N) said, moving closer.

He was shocked when Tim stepped back. " Tim... " (Y/N) whispered, clearly shaken by Tim's behavior.

" We are over (Y/N). " Tim said, leaving the room. (Y/N) stood there, tears spilling down his cheeks. Why?

It has been 3 years since the break up and both Tim and (Y/N) were unhappy. Neither of them could move on and worse of all, (Y/N) moved away from Gotham. Bruce and the others could see how Tim was broken.

No matter how hard they tried, they couldn't get him to talk to (Y/N) or to them about it and he fell back into his old habits. Bruce also kept tabs on (Y/N), just in case he needed help. Bruce didn't blame Tim or (Y/N) for the breakup, just miscommunication on their parts.

Everything went fine until Deathstroke was hired to kill Tim Drake. Since he couldn't find Tim Drake, he decided to take (Y/N) hostage. Deathstroke always researches his targets.

With some investigation, Tim and the family found the base he had in Gotham. What Tim didn't expect was to find Deathstroke holding him hostage. And for how long was (Y/N) kept as hostage?

" Hello detective. I hope you know where to find Tim Drake. " Deathstroke started, but Tim couldn't listen to him. His eyes were on (Y/N), looking at the bruises on his face. He saw red. That anger multiplied by 10 when Deathstroke picked (Y/N) up by the back of his neck, pulling him against his chest and putting a knife across his neck.

" I know that Tim and this guy are exes, but I know that mister Drake and mister (L/N) loved each other very much. And I don't think that mister Drake would want (Y/N) to die. " He said it so calmly, that you wouldn't think that he was holding a knife against his throat.

It was all fine until he took his gun and shoot at the window, breaking the glass. He dragged (Y/N) to the edge and Tim was really getting mad. Despite the break up, he still loved (Y/N). Now, the only thing separating (Y/N) and death was Deathstroke's grip on his wrist, while (Y/N) was over the edge.

" Let him go Deathstroke. " Batman said, staring at Deathstroke.

" If you say so detective. " And with that, any type of self control that Tim might have had, was thrown out the window. He ran and jumped out the window, after (Y/N).

(Y/N) screamed as he started falling down. He closed his eyes bracing for impact, but Tim caught and managed to land on a nearby roof. (Y/N) clung onto Tim, shaking with fear and terror.

" (Y/N)? " Tim asked, trying to put (Y/N) down.

" Please... Don't leave me. " (Y/N) sobbed, clinging even tighter.

(Y/N) now found himself in the Wayne manor, safe and sound. Alfred took a quick look at (Y/N). Bruce saw how conflicted Tim was on the side. He walked up to him, seeing the conflict in his eyes.

" Tim, you have to talk to him. " Bruce said to Tim, grasping his shoulder.

" Bruce- "

" No. You two broke up due to some sort of miscommunication. You will not move on in any way if you two don't talk. "

Bruce walked away after that, ushering the others who were in the room. Tim sat down next to (Y/N), clearly not knowing how to start.

" Tim... Thank you for saving me. " (Y/N) said softly.

" I still love you. Even after 3 years, I can't stop thinking about you. "

That made (Y/N) smile, happy that Tim felt the same. " I couldn't either. "

Tim frowned. " But you were with Derek. "

" No, no my dear dumbo. I was never with Derek. I moved back in with my parents. The reason i came was because of Deathstroke. He kidnapped me and kept me as leverage to try to get the Tim Drake out of hiding. " (Y/N) said, taking Tim's hand in his.

" Oh (Y/N), I'm sorry! I shouldn't have let my insecurities get in the way. I should have talked to you. " Tim said, squeezing (Y/N)'s hand back.

" Well, this entire family is allergic to the word communication. " (Y/N) joked, making Tim smile. That much is true.

" You are right about that. " Tim said, taking a deep breath. " I realized that I can't live without you. And I'm willing to do whatever it takes to have you back. " Tim stated.

" Well, you are going to have to start all over. It will take a while for me to fully trust you. " (Y/N) said, wiping his tears.

" So we are starting as friends? " Tim asked.

" Yup. " (Y/N) said.

" You won't regret it. " Tim said so quickly, making (Y/N) chuckle.

" Also, I want you to promise me something. "

" Anything. "

" If you ever have a problem or insecurity kicks in, you are going to come to me to talk about it. " (Y/N) stated, moving even closer to Tim. He missed him too much.

" I promise you. Can I ask you something? " Tim started hesitantly.

" Of course. "

" Can I kiss you before I start over? I missed it too much. " Tim admitted.

(Y/N) just cupped Tim's face with his free hand and kissed him. (Y/N) missed it too. Now they were both finally at peace and Tim was going to work his ass off to get back together with him.

[davosmymaster]

Hope, Confessions

TAGS AND WARNINGS -  +18, Minors DNI (more like minors don’t read), smut, masturbation, p in v, light choking, creampie (wrap it before you tap it), more like making love, love-struck Din, marriage proposal (kinda), angst, hurt/comfort, reader is heavily implied to be shorter than Din. My lack of star wars knowledge is also a warning. I wrote this right after finishing season 2. This fic happens right after Grogu leaves. Talks of cheating if you squint.

PAIRINGS - Din Djarin x fem!reader

WORD COUNT - 4.6k

SUMMARY - Din lost everything that day. Well, almost everything. He still has you to keep him sane, to keep him from giving up on everything he once was. (or Din tries to return his beskar to the Mandalorians but you won’t let him.)

English is not my first language

 The continuous growl of the engine was both what lulled you to sleep and woke you up that day. Still half unconscious, in that dreamy, sweet and comfortable state when you're neither awake or asleep; your hand stretches over the mattress looking for heat, for that silky skin where your head rests over most nights and the heartbeat under. Far from finding what your subconscious is looking for, your eyes open when you notice the cold sheets on Din's side of the bed.

 Despite having your eyes open, you still see nothing.

 "Din?"

There's no response, and having made sure he is not in the room with you; you take your sleep mask off. The room is as dark as usual. Small, narrow, cramped with things you fail to find a purpose for. When you had first been in his room, he hardly had a makeshift bed on the floor. It was, above all, an uncomfortable mattress with loud springs and a blanket. The next day, after you had shared your first night together, he had replaced it with a proper bed with a base and sheets. Your own bed has been long forgotten since then.

 You get your cargo pants from the floor and put them back on, deciding to check on him. Worry tugs at your heart while you remember the last few days; and it is even worse when, by pure muscle memory, your legs bring you to the corner where Grogu's hovering pram used to be, just outside Din's room. The kid's not there anymore, and you hardly doubt he will ever be again. If your heart is broken just by the sight, you can't even begin to imagine what it is like for Din. Not after all you both did to get him back to safety.

 Something flashes in the corners of your vision, then. And you follow it, finding his armor and helmet gently rearranged on the floor. There's a folded blanket underneath as if he didn't want the beskar to be in contact with the metallic ground of the ship. Crouching down, you take his helmet in your hands and close your eyes, shaking your head.

 "You idiot..." you whisper. "You should have come to me..."

 There's no need for him to suffer in silence the way he does. Why would he torture himself that way?

 The coldness of the beskar is something you are used to, but carrying Din's helmet in your hands fills you with a type of dread you're not sure you can explain, not even to yourself. He had always been so adamant about it, not wanting to risk it even when you two were in bed.

 The first time he had taken it off around you, he had blindfolded you with your own shirt. He had been drooling to have a taste of your lips. From then on, you had used different things to cover your eyes, all so you could sleep next to him, calm his anxious dreams and simply stay.

 But that was back when Grogu lived in the razor crest. There was a time when you couldn't begin to fathom the idea of Din without Grogu by his side, and still couldn't. But now things are different, vastly different. And as Grogu's presence isn't there anymore and you are now carrying Din's helmet —the two things that make Din who he truly is— you wonder what man you'll find once you enter that cockpit.

 "Mando?"

 He's sitting in his usual place, in front of the controls, fumbling with buttons and levers. From where you stood, you can have a peek at his brown hair and the skin on the back of his neck. Despite all the efforts he had done at the beginning, this isn't the first time you see him without the helmet.

 "Mando," you insist.

 He doesn't respond, stubborn like only he can be. He doesn't respond for the very same reason that he left his armor and helmet in the hallway; he doesn't believe himself to be a Mandalorian anymore.

 "Din..." you whisper.

 There's a creaking sound as the chair turns on itself, and before you have the whole sight of his face, you close your eyes and cover them with your hand. The other, stretching in his direction, offers him the helmet.

 He doesn't take it.

 "You can uncover your eyes, mesh'la."

 You shake your head.

 "Not until you put it back on."

 He sighs in your direction.

 "There's no need for it..." he says, the sorrow coming from his lips tastes bittersweet. Not having to wear the helmet is a relief, in a way, but a curse once you know what it entails. "I'm not a Mandalorian anymore."

 You don't know what to say, don't know what to do, either. Your figure stays there, unseeing and frozen for a few seconds. You still don't give up.

 "This is a non-negotiable, Din."

 He waits, hoping you will give up at some point; but you don't. Beskar, especially the amount of it needed to make a Mandalorian helmet, weighs a lot and your arm begins to tremble from the effort of holding it in his direction. You had never regretted more having artificial gravity.

 "Okay..." he whispers, then takes the helmet and you wait for him to give you a sign. "Done."

 You open your eyes, but the sight is not at all what you had expected. You should have known better than to just blindly follow his command. You should have listened for the modulator.

 A pair of brown eyes stare at you, full of concealed grief. The helmet gently cradled on his lap. He is only wearing his black flight suit, which allows him a kind of movement that his beskar armour doesn't always allow. For example, one of his legs is crossed under the other now. And he seems almost... relaxed. Despite having told him repeatedly how much you wanted him not to be so stressed, constantly looking for jobs to get done and credits to take, the odd mixture of calmness and despair just concerns you further. If that's even possible.

 "You..."

 "Told you," he says. "Not a Mandalorian anymore."

 You are angry. Want to be angry at him for lying and forcing you to look at his face. But you find yourself unable to express that rage, not against him, at least; not when he looks like a kicked puppy. The man in front of you is a version of Din that you never thought you'd encounter. Therefore, he is a Din that you don't quite know how to handle.

 You want to be there for him, though.

 In no time, your fingers are brushing his patchy beard in the gentlest way possible. At first, his big brown eyes are stuck in yours; and even though he is sitting and you are standing, the height difference is still noticeable because his eyes and yours are not that far apart. Din looks at you in that specific way, the way he only does when he thinks you're not aware of his presence. With so much longing in those dilatating pupils.

 His eyelids drop, revelling in your touch. But the moment is short-lived, as in the same exact moment his shoulders relax, he grabs your wrist and pulls it away.

 "You should buckle up," he says. "We're leaving hyperspace soon."

 "Where are we going?"

 Not before putting the helmet down, Din swivels the chair back to the controls. It is obvious that he is simply ignoring you, because all he does is look through the glass into the endless void. He taps a button or two trying to distract himself, but he's not really doing anything.

 "Din, where are we going?" you ask him again, your hand now gripping his shoulder.

 "I'm not a Mandalorian," he repeats. And at this point, you start to wonder if he is trying to convince himself or he is this deeply traumatized from betraying his creed. "Beskar belongs to the Mandalorians. I'm gonna hand over all the beskar I have."

 "What?!"

 The sound that comes from your mouth is half a shout half a whisper. Soon, you're turning the chair back in your direction, your body bent over your middle and your hands gripping both armrests tightly. You look into his eyes for any sign of mocking, but your Mandalorian has never been the pranking type.

 "Please, Din..." you almost beg. "Tell me you're joking."

 His jaw clenches. Hard. His eyes swim to somewhere behind you, far away from there, trying to distance himself from you emotionally and mentally as he cannot do it physically. But his eyes still well with tears.

 You've never seen him cry for obvious reasons. And the sight clouds your mind. It sends a blaster shot through the middle of your chest. You pray to the maker that he won't let those tears spill, because you don't think you'll manage not to break if he does.

 "You can't," you tell him. "Din, you can't. It's your armor, your helmet. No one else should ever have it."

 A muscle in his jaw ticks. He's clenching his teeth so hard that you can't help but think that it has to hurt. Your palms quickly find the edges of his face, and your thumbs gently massage the skin there, trying to soften his grip with gentle circles. You see him try to take a deep breath, but it is then that he breaks.

 A sound, like that of a hurt animal, rips through his chest. His forehead quickly falls forward, trying to hide his tears. In a second, your arms find their home around his broad shoulders while he lets a few tears slip into your shirt. He sobs into your collarbone. Inconsolable.

 "It's okay, baby," you still try. "Let it all out."

 You caress his back ripped by the earthquakes his tears cause. At some point, one of your hands travels to the back of his head and they get knotted in the short hair there. It takes him a while, but he eventually slips into that kind of numbness that follows the tears.

 When he's done, you don't dare to get too far away from him. You take a seat next to him, on the chair Grogu used to occupy, and take his hands in yours giving a gentle squeeze.

 "I miss him," he says, as if he could read your mind.

 You nod, wiping the wetness from your face too. There's not much you can say about the matter. There's no other way in which you could express, those three words are enough.

 "Me too."

 Rather than lecturing him, telling him once again how necessary it was that Grogu trained with a real jedi, you just accompany him through the sadness. Anything you could ever say, he already knows. Feelings are not logical. His heart doesn't understand that the kid is safe and sound, happy, training to expand his control on the Force. His eyes don't see that. All he sees is the absence, the lack of that part of him that he unknowingly gave to his child, the very same part of him the kid took with him and now he is missing. Like a table with three legs or a ship without an engine or a medkit without bacta.

 "Din, you can't give your helmet and armor away," you try again.

 He shakes his head, the curls of his brown hair waving in the air. His eyes are fixed on your fingers while he plays with them, caressing them, drawing circles over your palm, tracing the lines that supposedly form your future.

 "This all has to do with you taking your helmet off in front of those people, right?" you ask him, although there's a fear in your chest that it could be another reason. "Or is it because... of me?"

 His neck snaps in your direction in front of him. He is breathless when he asks.

 "What?"

 "Is it because I saw your face first?" you ask him, needles pricking your lungs as you ask. "Those times... I'm sorry if I- insulted your faith... I-"

 "No," he responds in a thready voice. His palms land on your knees and he squeezes, trying to comfort your shivering form "Of course not. How could you say that? No, you didn't insult anything. It's okay."

 The weight that lifts from your shoulders is heavy, so heavy that you can't help but let out a sigh of relief.

 "I'm sorry I never told you before," he says then, and you quickly get your hands off of your face to look at him. "I never knew how. I kept trying to find a way to explain it, but I didn't know how."

 Your face twists into a confused grimace.

 "Din... what are you talking about?"

 He takes a steadying breath and decides to just say it.

 "I consider you to be my riduur," he says, shielding himself in the fact that you don't know what that word means in Mando'a. "That's why I can- could take my helmet off around you. It's okay. That's allowed."

 You frown at the strange word.

 "What is that?"

 He swallows the lump in his throat. Even after all of this time, he's still terrified of getting rejected. The pain that causes him the fact that you might not want him to the same extent that he wants you is killing him. It would kill him, that's certain, if you would confirm his suspicions right now. With no kid and no identity, he doesn't want to think about the possibility of losing you too.

 For a second, he considers lying. But doing that would mean the complete obliteration of your trust and his own mind.

 "It means partner..." he says. And your body goes stiff for a second, but he cannot stop there. "As in... husband, wife..."

 He watches you attentively, like a mere witness to a terrible accident; knowing that whatever happens now is solely his fault. But, at the same time, knowing he has no power over your actions and feelings.

 Din watches you blink repeatedly. Your jaw falls from its hinges, lips lightly parted. Even now, he wants to kiss you. He always wants to kiss you.

 "And... you consider me your riduur?"

 He nods for a moment, liquid chocolate dances around in his eyes. Melting. Warm. And you can't help but think that he is so handsome. With that silky patchy beard, and the small heart the lack of hair forms next to his chin. It's like he was born to be hugged by your arms, and kissed by your lips.

 "Yes," he insists. He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. "But I should've asked you before-"

 You interrupt him.

 "Are you telling me that the first time you showed me your face..." you start, your mind coming back to that night when he lazily made love to you, allowed you to kiss every inch of his face, tug from his hair until he moaned. "...are you telling me that was you accepting me as... your wife?"

 He wants to say something, anything, but the words don't come. His mind is also lost in that night, in the way your face lit up when you saw him for the first time, how you complained that he was so handsome and it was so unfair for the galaxy to have that pretty face covered. Just to make up your mind a split second later and happily realize you were the only one who he would grant that sight to.

 He doesn't say anything, but doesn't have to.

 "Oh, Din..."

 Before he can close his eyes, you're on him. His fingers curl over your waist, the place where his hands always end up no matter what situation you're in. It feels natural, like his hands are a magnet drawn to your flesh. He dips the pads of his fingers under the hem of your shirt, and the contact of his naked cold fingers —always covered by the gloves— make you gasp in his mouth. As a consequence, he gasps too, feeling your exhale stuck in his own lungs.

 Your knee is buried in the leather of the chair, between his knees; enclosing him into a tiny little space that he doesn't want to get out of. Your lips are warm, your tongue, warmer. And as his teeth nibbles at your lower lip, your body seems to melt under his touch. His hands get into action, a featherlight touch grazing your clothed inner thighs, burying the pads of his fingers into the fabric until your legs open. He presses a single digit to where he knows your entrance is.

 "Ah..." you moan, gripping his shoulders tightly. He is enamoured with how air leaves your lungs when he touches you, there's pride in that, too. And he rubs, taking more moans from you. "Din..."

 "Keep doing that, cyar'ika."

 He stands and grips the back of your thighs, urging you to close your legs around his hips. The next second, he has you pinned against the right side of the control panel, one that is pretty much empty and has only a few colorful buttons here and there. Your lips only part from his to remove the top of his flight suit. It has a lot of Velcro and straps, although it doesn't look like it at first glance. When you groan in frustration, Din tugs at his own clothes and in two seconds his chest is bare. You barely have time to close your lips around his pulse point before he unzips your pants and gets rid of them and your panties.

 Laying against the console, your thumb delineates his swollen and wet lips. His pupils are so big there's barely any chocolate in there anymore.

 "I'm so mad at you..." you gasp, breathless. "You should've told me before. I would've made it special."

 He remembers that night. He remembers how soft your skin was, your wide eyes when he took the helmet off. Your lovely words that made him, the Mandalorian that he was, blush. That night hadn't been premeditated. He had been wondering for some time what a riduur would look like for him, what it would feel like, and all his thoughts ended up coming back to you. He felt the urge to show you his face, for you to truly know him, and he simply responded to that urge.

 It was simple as that. Easy. As love you should be.

 "I'm sorry," he says, even if there's not a tinge of regret in his voice. He cannot feel any, not when he knows he is soon to be squeezed by your warmth. "Still, I don't think it could have been more special."

 "You get so cheesy when you're hard."

 You both chuckle. That is, until he brings the head of his thick cock to your clit. Rocking back and forth, he rubs you with it, swallows your moans and makes them his own. You can feel every crease, every swollen vein. You clench around nothing, your own heart beating down there.

 "Din," you gasp. "Please, Din. I'm ready."

 Without stopping yet, he leans into your neck and licks just below your jaw. You're still wearing your t-shirt and, by the way the zipper of his flight suit grazes your inner thighs, he didn't get completely naked either. You're still glad you could take off his shirt; his chest is boiling against your own, even if still clothed. The curve of his biceps is your favorite place to hold on to.

 "A bit more..." he says, and a moan follows.

 "Please, my riduur," you beg. "Please, give it to me."

 With a single thrust, he enters you. The sudden stretch makes you see stars, your thighs trembling on each side of him. He nestles deep in your insides, reaching places your fingers could never. He pushes your knees against your breasts, waiting just a second, looking at you and checking that it doesn't hurt, that he wasn't too rough, didn't get caught up in the moment.

 He rolls his hips back, and thrusts.

 He's slow, deep. One of your knees inevitably ends up over his shoulder when he leans in to kiss you, to drown your moans or merge them with his own, you're not sure.

 "My riduur..." he murmurs into your ear. "Mine, mine, mine."

 "Oh, fuck. Din," his own enthusiasm for the word has you clenching around him now that you understand the meaning of it. You never thought you'd be able to get turned on by a single word in Mando'a. As it was known to be, across all the galaxy, a brute language, borderline aggressive. Everyone joked about how even saying 'I love you' sounded as if you were cursing someone.

 He curls his fingers around your neck and presses you against the console, there's a snarl tugging from one of the sides of his lips. The sight of Din fucking you is, most of the time, what brings you near the edge. The gentle touch of his lips to your neck, what makes you come undone. Still, nothing compares to the way he chokes you; the way the pads of his fingers press against the sides of your throat and it is your own arousal that makes you feel like you can't have enough oxygen. He is not doing it that hard, the bridge of his palm nowhere near your windpipe, but you feel breathless nonetheless.

 He growls. And it is the only good thing about his helmet, really, the fact that his growls with the modulator sound so much deeper.

 He is thrusting mercilessly. His stamina so high he doesn't feel the need to slow down. Not like you do when you ride him, something that always fills you with envy.

 "You cum first, cyar'ika," he says, bringing his thumb to your clit. His cheeks have the faintest shade of red. A round, fat drop of sweat runs down his sternum, and you can't help but lick it clean. It is salty and sweet at the same time.

 He doesn't have to work you up much, he flicks his thumb twice, drawing tight circles over your bundle of nerves as he kisses your womb with the head of his cock. And just like that, ecstasy runs a marathon through your veins, leaving goosebumps behind and locking your thighs in its place.

 "Oh," Din lets a long moan out, as he feels you clenching around him impossibly tight. "Oh, that's it," he buries his nose into your hair, his thrust becoming sloppier. "That's it, my riduur. Milking my cock so good."

 By the time you regain your own breath and vision, a split second later, he's filling you up with his seed. The sounds make you drool. The feeling of him balls-deep in you is comfortable, familiar. He is warmth and safety and home. And there's no other place any of you would like to be right now than the arms of one another.

 "Thank you," he says.

 He doesn't know why. Not consciously, at least. Maybe it was because he never thought he would be this close to anyone. Maybe because he had been so touch-starved once that even holding hands made him nervous back then, and now he gets to experience this. Maybe it is because he finally is naked —both literally and figuratively— with someone who knows all his virtues and sins. Maybe because he has taken this as a yes, that you accept him as your riduur and he couldn't be happier.

 Maybe it is all of it.

 You love the way he is a ruthless warrior to everyone's eyes, yet still melts at the faintest of your touches.

 Cradling his face into your hands while he is still inside you, you bring the topic back. Hoping that now that he is content and comfortable, he will at least listen to you.

 "Din, please," you say, and by the way your eyes are looking at him, he knows he will do whatever you want him to. He will fly into a supernova if you ask him right now. "Don't give your armor away. You're my Mandalorian. I'd hate to see you regret that too."

 Din sighs, both mentally and physically tired. Yet a part of him knows you're right. What else would he be without his faith, his purpose? Without it, he was a blank canvas, and he wasn't sure he would be able to fill that void with anything. Being a Mandalorian was a big part of his identity and pride. Would he ever be able to forgive himself if he gave everything away?

 "You weren't always a Mandalorian," you tell him. "And before the initiation ritual, plenty of people saw your face. You were not Mandalorian before, and then you were. Why can't you swear to your Creed again?"

 "It doesn't work like that," he says, and his following words sound bitter even if he didn't mean to. "A promise is unbreakable, it's not something you can do a thousand times. You wouldn't forgive me if I took advantage of your trust a thousand times, would you?"

 Your lips part, and he could have sworn he heard your heart breaking. The thing that scares him the most, however, is that you say nothing. You yourself don't even know if that is true, if you'd be able to not forgive him a thousand times.

 "I- I didn't mean to say that..." he says, his heart is pumping aggressively in his chest. He doesn't know what to say. He doesn't want to screw it up even more. "I'm sorry. I would never- I-I hope you know that."

 "I know, Din," you whisper, kissing his cheek once. "I know. Still, there has to be a way."

 Finally, he slowly pulls out. His cum runs down your thigh as soon as he leaves, and he uses your own panties to clean the path it draws in your flesh. You pull up your pants and in a moment, he is fully dressed again. A part of you wants to whine, cry for the loss of his warm skin against your own, the familiar weight of him over your body. Perhaps the sight of him cleaning you up had turned you on. Again.

 He throws your panties in the laundry basket in the fresher. By the time he comes back, the blissful glow from fucking you is almost gone again. This time, however, you're not letting him bury himself in sadness again.

 He lets you hug him and kiss his forehead, once again leaning against the control panel. His smile appears a second time today, even if brief. But your heart flutters in your chest, happily.

 "If there's no other way..." you tell him, looking into his eyes so he understands your next words. "I want you to know I still love you. Mandalorian or not. And I wanna be there to help you through whatever you're going through."

 "I love you too," he responds, pecking your lips once. Your face between his calloused, warm hands. "Maybe if I could make them forgive me somehow... earn the helmet back..."

 It is just a spark of hope, but it is enough for both of you. Your eyes lit up at his words, and he sees it and knows he has tro try. Even if he knows you love him all the same Mandalorian or not.

 "We go?" you ask him, urging him to get out of hyperspace wherever the other Mandalorians are. Part of you hates that their judgement will dictate if Din can "become" a Mandalorian again or not. But this is his faith, and if this is how the whole thing works, then you'll do whatever means necessary to make sure he succeeds.

 He nods, a sprinkle of hope shining bright in his eyes.

 "We go."

[icyminghao]

you nailed it!

pairing: minghao x gn!reader genre: fluff, established relationship word count: 1k warning(s): none

summary: minghao notices your newly-painted nails and ends up having his nails painted by you, discovering an interest of yours along the way.

from the universe of i don’t understand (but i love you), (pretty) hungry and a little sweet, but can be read as a standalone!

“Did you paint your nails?” Minghao raises his eyebrows in surprise from his spot on your shared bed the moment you walk into the bedroom.

You break out into a huge smile the moment you hear the question, touched that Minghao noticed the small change immediately. Skipping over to his side of the bed, you hold out both your hands for Minghao to see. “Yes! Mieun helped me with it. Aren’t they pretty?”

Chuckling softly at your excitement, Minghao takes your hands in his softly as he examines your nails with an awed expression.

“They are, love*,” Minghao smiles and looks into your eyes with so much adoration, enunciating the last word with such great precision, just like you taught him. Struck by an idea, you beam even brighter at him, maneuvering the position of your hands so the back of Minghao’s palms are now faced up.

“Baobei**…” you begin, your thumbs rubbing Minghao’s fingers as he looks up at you in anticipation from his seat on your shared bed. “What do you think about getting your nails painted too?”

Minghao’s eyes widen in surprise at the attention suddenly turning onto him. Upon processing your words, he breaks out into a soft smile, absolutely endeared by you.

“Hm…” Minghao pretends to think, “Do you think it’d look good on me?”

“Are you kidding? Of course it will!” you reply animatedly, removing your hands from Minghao’s grasp, to his dismay. “What colour do you want? I have a whole set, it’s in the living room right now-”

“Relax, love,” Minghao chuckles, reaching to take your hands in his again. “You can choose for me.”

The huge smile that spreads across your face makes Minghao practically take a mental screenshot. If he knew the topic would excite you so much, he would’ve brought it up a long time ago.

Letting out an excited “okay!”, you pull Minghao off his spot on your shared bed and drag him to your living room, and he watches in pure adoration as you rummage through the cabinets for your manicure tools.

“Here they are!” you exclaim in a singsong voice, holding up your manicure box proudly for Minghao to see, and he swears his heart stopped beating for a split second. It’s been almost two years since the two of you had started dating, but you never fail to warm the insides of his heart.

“What about… red and black? They’ll look so good on you,” you muse, more to yourself than to Minghao, as you hold up your red and black nail polish to put next to Minghao’s nails for comparison. Minghao looks upon the situation and finds himself increasingly unable to hide his glee at the pure excitement and joy emanating from you. If sunshine was a person, he’s convinced you’re it.

“Red and black it is, then, love,” Minghao reaches up to boop your nose, a lovesick grin spreading across his face as you scrunch your nose and beam back at him in reply.

You get to work immediately, brows furrowed in concentration as you prepare his nail bed for painting and subsequently apply the black and red polish in an alternating manner. All the while, Minghao’s eyes never leave your concentrated expression, his heart swelling at the sight of you so focused on painting his nails.

“I didn’t know you liked painting nails,” Minghao chuckles, watching your expression closely. You briefly glance up and look into his eyes with a small smile before going back to work.

“My friends from my hometown and I used to help each other paint our nails all the time,” you smile at the memory, and Minghao’s expression falters ever so slightly at the mention of your hometown. It’s almost as if you can feel it, as you follow up immediately, “But I found Mieun, so it’s okay!”

“I can do it too,” Minghao pipes up, and you tilt your head in confusion at his words.

“I mean,” Minghao clears his throat, “you could teach me how to paint your nails, and we could help each other.”

You break out into a huge grin in response, on the verge of tearing up at his kindness. “Thank you, Baobei.”

Minghao smiles, reaching forward to press a soft kiss on your cheek. “Thank you for being with me, love.”

The rest of the session goes by with comfortable silence, you working on Minghao’s nails with a newfound concentration as he unabashedly stares at your face the entire time, taking in your focused expression. He doesn’t even realise you’ve finished until you start snapping your fingers in front of him, to which he jolts in surprise, eliciting a few giggles from you (to his delight).

“What do you think?” you put your hands together in anticipation for his response, gesturing with your eyes for him to look at the finished product. Minghao does just that, and you don’t miss the way his eyes brighten just the slightest at your handiwork, a small smile creeping onto his face.

“It’s beautiful, love,” Minghao exhales, turning to look at you. “Thank you.”

You beam at him in response, reaching for your phone to take a few pictures of Minghao’s newly-painted nails. “I have to send this to Seokmin. He’s been asking for opinions on whether he should paint his nails.”

Minghao wraps a hand around your wrist, stopping you from sending the pictures to Seokmin. “Why don’t you… recommend him a nail parlour to go to instead?”

You tilt your head in confusion. “But, I can just paint his nails, can’t I?”

Minghao’s face lightens up, having thought of what he thinks is a brilliant idea. “You could teach me how to paint someone’s nails, and I could do it for Seokmin.”

You let out a chuckle at Minghao’s adamant behaviour, but concede anyway. Minghao lets out a sigh that goes unnoticed by you.

He’d be damned before he’s admitting that he unabashedly wants you to paint his and his nails only.

*: love — supposed to be a translation of the word in the reader’s native language, but can also be taken as the English term of endearment (if that makes sense)

**: Baobei (宝贝) — Chinese term of endearment for “baby” or “love”.

an: can you tell that i love them

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[ist4rgirlo]

Hey I need comfort the most rn I haven’t gone to bed for 24 hrs insomnia and overthinking sucks and I sent a Conrad platonic request about reader not being able to sleep I don’t mean to pressure you into writing it but do u think u can write it for me? I think the imagination would help a lot if u don’t feel good writing it it’s fine ignore this ❤️

─────── 𝐰𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 - 𝐜.𝐟

ONESHOT !

summary : conrad stays up with his girlfriend that can’t sleep.

You and Conrad live in a small cozy apartment. You were both deeply in love and cherished each other's company. Your love for each other knew no boundaries, and the both of you always supported one another through thick and thin.

One evening, as the clock struck midnight, You tossed and turned restlessly in bed. You couldn't find your way into the land of dreams no matter how hard you tried. Your thoughts raced, worries piled up, and sleep eluded you. Frustration grew inside you as the night ticked by.

Seeing the distress on your face, Conrad gently caressed your cheek and asked, "Is everything okay, love? Why can't you sleep?"

You sighed and replied, "I don't know, Connie. My mind is restless, and I just can't seem to find peace tonight."

With genuine concern, Conrad kissed your forehead and said, "Don't worry, sweetheart. I'm here with you. Let's find a way to make this night a little more bearable. How about I stay up with you? We can talk, watch movies or do anything you'd like."

Relieved by Conrad’s understanding, you smiled back at him and nodded your head. You couldn't help but admire his unwavering care and dedication towards you. The both of you cuddled up in bed, you nestled against Conrad’s chest, and the both of you began sharing stories, reminiscing about your adventures together, and laughing wholeheartedly.

As the night transitioned into the early hours of the morning, you snuggled closer to each other. Your restlessness began to fade away, and you started feeling at ease beside Conrad. With his calming presence, the weight of your worries seemed lighter, and the warmth of his love engulfed you.

However, Conrad could sense that you were still struggling to drift off to sleep. He softly whispered, "Why don't I tell you a bedtime story, just like when we were kids?"

Your eyes sparkled with excitement as you nestled deeper into Conrad’s arms, eagerly awaiting the tale. Conrad gently began weaving a story about a magical kingdom, where dreams bloomed like flowers, and everyone could find solace in the embrace of slumber. As he described the vivid landscapes, mystical creatures, and heroic characters, your imagination ran wild, transporting you to a realm of pure wonder.

As the final words of the tale escaped Conrad’s lips, you felt yourself being pulled closer to the welcoming darkness of sleep. With a contented sigh, you closed your eyes, surrendering yourself to the soothing lull of dreams.

Conrad watched over you, his heart filled with love and relief. He kept a protective eye on you until he too felt the familiar embrace of sleep wash over him.

In the morning, as sunlight filtered through the curtains, you awoke feeling refreshed, your worries from the night before gently fading away. You looked tenderly at Conrad, still peacefully asleep beside you. Grateful for his unwavering support, you planted a soft kiss on his forehead, silently thanking him for being your rock in moments of restlessness.

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here you go my love !! i hope that this somehow helps you :))