#a chill that blows through every so often

[moonsandmobilityaids]

Disappointed

Pairings: poly!marauders x disabled!reader Summary: You're struggling after you couldn't finish in sex. Your boys know better. Warnings: Discussion of sexual dysfunction. Series Masterlist

"Don't worry, Y/N," James's voice echoes in your mind as you lay awake in bed long after the boys have left. "We're here for you."

His words were meant to soothe, but they only serve to deepen the pit of unease that has settled within you. You turn onto your side, pulling the blankets tightly around yourself, trying to ward off the lingering chill of vulnerability.

The room is dark and silent—your own private sanctuary—but tonight it feels like a prison, the walls closing in with each passing second. A heavy sigh escapes your lips, the sound hollow and empty in the vastness of the night.

You want to believe them—to trust in their reassurances—but doubts gnaw at the edge of your consciousness, refusing to be silenced. It's not their intentions you question; it's your own response—or lack thereof—that leaves you feeling adrift.

"I'm sorry, love," Remus had murmured against your skin, his touch gentle yet insistent. "We'll do better next time."

But there was a rush—a desperate need to reach the peak they promised, to prove to them—and to yourself—that you could. That you were enough.

Yet despite their patient coaxing, the much-anticipated climax eluded you, leaving behind a trail of frustration and self-doubt. The memory of your failure burns brightly, a beacon signaling your inadequacy even in the most intimate of moments.

"You did great, Y/N," James had assured you, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead before he too retreated into the night.

Did I? you wonder now, staring up at the ceiling where shadows dance like specters of your insecurities. Did I really?

A part of you wants to scream, to let out all the fear and disappointment that's been building inside. But you swallow it down, pushing it back into the recesses of your heart where it festers, feeding on your uncertainty.

What if you've let them down? What if this changes everything?

"You were amazing," Sirius had said, holding your trembling body close to his. His voice was steady, grounding. But could he see past your facade—the tremors of desire masking an undercurrent of apprehension?

The questions are relentless, each one chipping away at the confidence you'd painstakingly built over time. With every replay of the evening's events, the reality of your inability to finish looms larger, casting a shadow over the shared laughter and whispered promises of earlier.

A strange and unyielding sense of guilt begins to creep into your interactions with the boys, a constant reminder of your perceived failure. Instead of seeking their company as you once did, you find yourself withdrawing—pulling away from their gentle touches and avoiding their lingering gazes.

It's not that you love them any less; rather, it's the fear of falling short again that holds you back, the nagging thought that you might never be able to give them what they truly deserve. And so you retreat further into your shell, putting distance between your heart and theirs—a protective measure against the imaginary blow you're certain will come.

"You okay, Y/N?" Sirius asks one morning at breakfast, his brow furrowed in concern when he notices how quiet you've been.

"Fine," you murmur, forcing a smile onto your face even while your chest feels like it's being crushed under the weight of unwelcome thoughts. "Just... tired."

But the lie tastes bitter on your tongue, and you can't help but wonder if they see through your facade. Can they sense the turmoil roiling beneath the surface? Do they know about the battle raging within you?

You begin to avoid those stolen moments—the secret kisses shared in hidden corners of the castle, the playful banter that would often lead to more intimate encounters. Each time James' hand brushes against yours, or Remus' gaze lingers a little too long, you pull away, making excuses about needing to study or catch up on sleep.

Your actions don't go unnoticed. The boys exchange worried glances, their brows furrowing in confusion and concern. But you brush off their questions, assuring them that everything is fine even though nothing feels right anymore.

As much as you crave their touch—the warmth of their bodies pressed against yours, the familiarity of their scent enveloping you—you can't shake the feeling that you're holding them back, that you're denying them an experience they should be having. It's this thought that haunts your every waking moment, planting seeds of doubt where there was once only certainty.

You see the way their smiles falter when you flinch away from a touch that was once welcome, how confusion clouds their eyes as you avoid sitting too close in the common room. And each time you make an excuse to leave early or decline an invitation to sneak off somewhere more private, the silence that follows is deafening.

"Y/N," James calls softly one evening, settling beside you on the plush sofa of the Gryffindor common room. His arm wraps around your shoulders, pulling you into his side for a cuddle like so many times before. But instead of melting into him, you sit rigidly, every muscle tense with unease. "I thought we could..."

"I have to study." The words are out before you can stop them, filling the space between you with a new kind of distance—one not measured by physical proximity but by the gulf widening in your hearts.

James blinks at you, surprise etched onto his handsome features. You've never turned down a moment of closeness before, and he's left searching for answers in the depth of your evasive gaze. As you rise from the couch and head towards the girls' dormitory, he watches you go, a frown creasing his forehead.

The pattern continues over the next few days, your laughter growing quieter, your presence less constant. Sirius picks up on it during one of your usual study sessions, the library's vastness suddenly feeling oppressive without the sound of your shared chuckles echoing off the stone walls.

"Something's up," he murmurs to the others later that night, his grey eyes clouded with worry.

"You think?" James retorts, a hint of sarcasm lacing his words as he runs a hand through his unruly hair. "It's been days since she's even looked at us properly."

Remus, ever the observer, nods in agreement from his place by the fireplace, his amber eyes flickering with concern. "We should talk to her."

So they do.

The following evening finds you curled up on your bed, a book open but unread in your lap as thoughts whirr relentlessly through your mind. A soft knock pulls you from your reverie, and before you can respond, the door creaks open. James peeks around the edge, his hazel eyes filled with trepidation.

"We need to talk, love," he says softly, stepping aside to reveal Sirius and Remus waiting behind him.

Your heart stutters in your chest as you sit up, setting the book aside. You swallow hard, nodding for them to enter despite the knot of anxiety tightening in your stomach. This is it, isn't it? The moment you've been dreading—the confrontation you've been hoping to avoid.

They move in unison, crossing the threshold into your sanctuary. Their presence fills the room, their silhouettes outlined by the warm glow of the setting sun streaming in through the window. Each step they take feels like an echo of the distance you've created—intentional yet painful, necessary yet heartbreaking.

"Y/N," Sirius starts, his usually confident voice wavering slightly. He settles on the edge of your bed, so close yet miles apart from where you're sitting. "We're... we're worried about you."

"Worried?" You laugh, but there's no humor in it, just bitter disbelief. How could they possibly be concerned when all you've done is hold them back?

"Yes, worried," Remus confirms, taking a seat next to Sirius. His fingers drum against his thighs, a nervous habit betraying the calm exterior he presents. "You've been distant lately. Not just physically, but emotionally too."

"And we want to understand why." James completes the thought, standing near the foot of your bed, his arms crossed over his chest. His gaze never leaves yours, searching for answers within the depths of your guarded expression.

At their words, something inside you breaks—a dam holding back weeks of pent-up emotions. Tears prick the corners of your eyes, threatening to spill over as you look between the three faces before you. Faces that used to bring comfort now only serve as reminders of what you believe you can't give them.

"I don't..." Your voice cracks, and you have to stop, swallowing hard against the lump forming in your throat. You draw in a shaky breath, steeling yourself before attempting to speak again. "I don't want to disappoint you."

"Disappoint us?" Sirius echoes, furrowing his brow. "Y/N, how could you—"

"But I am!" you blurt out, unable to contain the wave of desperation crashing over you. "You all expecting something I can't give!"

Confusion passes between the boys before realization dawns on each face. It's James who speaks first, his tone gentle, understanding creeping into his voice. "You mean... during sex, don't you?"

Your silence serves as confirmation, the weight of your admission hanging heavy in the air. The truth, once hidden beneath layers of fear and self-doubt, is now laid bare before them, exposing the raw vulnerability you've fought so hard to conceal.

"Y/N," Sirius begins, reaching out tentatively to brush a lock of hair from your face, "is this about... finishing?"

A single tear escapes, trailing down your cheek as you nod. Yes, that's exactly it. That elusive peak of pleasure that seems to come so naturally to them remains stubbornly out of reach for you, and you can't shake the feeling that you're somehow less because of it.

"I'm afraid," you whisper, your voice barely audible. "Afraid that one day, you'll grow tired of me, tired of trying... because I can't... I can't finish the way you do."

The boys listen carefully to your confession, their expressions filled with nothing but love and understanding. There's no trace of judgment in their eyes, only concern for the pain you've been shouldering alone.

"Y/N," James says softly, his voice a soothing balm over the rawness of your exposed fears. "You don't disappoint us—never have, never will."

He moves closer, sitting on the edge of your bed, his hand hovering just above yours as if asking permission to comfort. You give him a small nod, and he gently takes your hand into his, offering silent support.

Sirius shifts next to Remus, leaning forward so he can look directly at you. His grey eyes are intense, not with desire this time, but with determination to make you understand how much you mean to them—all of them.

"Our love for you isn't dependent on whether or not you reach climax," Sirius begins, his tone steady and sure. "It's about so much more than that."

"Exactly," Remus adds, his own voice a touch softer, yet equally reassuring. "We care about you, Y/N. More than I think you realise."

They remind you that their intimacy isn’t about performance or expectation; it’s about being close, about sharing something meaningful and intimate.

"It's not about reaching some end goal," James explains, giving your hand a gentle squeeze. "It's about being together, experiencing pleasure and connection in whatever form that takes."

"And we do feel connected to you, Y/N," Sirius insists, his gaze never leaving yours. "Every touch, every kiss—it means something. It's real and beautiful, regardless of where it leads."

Remus nods, agreeing with the others. "And it's perfectly okay if you don't finish—we’d like you to, of course, but it’s okay if you don’t. That doesn't take away from the intimacy we share or how much we love you."

They tell you that your worth to them is far beyond physical pleasure, and they don’t need you to finish to feel fulfilled.

"You're not less because of this, Y/N," James assures you, his thumb tracing circles on the back of your hand. "Your worth to us isn't measured by orgasm counts."

"That's right," Sirius chimes in, his resolve unwavering. "You fulfil us in countless ways, love. Don't ever think otherwise."

The boys' words start to seep into your consciousness, washing over you like a soothing balm. The weight on your chest feels a little less heavy, the knot in your stomach loosening ever so slightly as their reassurances begin to take root.

"Everyone has insecurities," James admits, his voice barely above a whisper as he continues to hold your gaze. "Even us."

"Especially us," Sirius adds with a wry smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes. "You should hear Remus fretting over his transformations or me worrying about living up to my family's expectations."

"And don't get me started on Prongs here," Remus teases, nudging James with his elbow. "He can be just as unsure of himself, especially when it comes to Quidditch."

Your eyes widen at their confessions, surprised by this glimpse into their vulnerabilities. You've always seen them as confident, almost untouchable in their self-assuredness. Yet here they are, sharing their own doubts and fears, reminding you that everyone—no matter how strong they appear—has moments of insecurity.

"That's what makes this relationship work," Sirius explains, his hand gently squeezing your knee for emphasis. "We navigate through those feelings together."

"For all of us, being intimate is more than just physical," James echoes, a faint blush creeping onto his cheeks as he brushes a stray hair from your face. "It's about trust, vulnerability... allowing someone else to see us—not just our bodies, but our souls. And Y/N, believe me when I say we see you. And we love what we see."

"You trusting us enough to let us in—to share not only your body but also your worries... That means everything," Sirius says, leaning closer until you can feel his breath against your skin. His grey eyes reflect sincerity and warmth as he holds your gaze. "More than any climax could."

Remus nods, agreeing with his friends. "Pleasure doesn't always look the same for everyone, and that's okay. What matters is that we're here, together, caring for one another." He reaches out, placing his hand over yours and Sirius's where they rest on your knee—a silent vow of support and understanding.

When the conversation finally winds down, you feel lighter than you have in hours. Your insecurities haven't disappeared entirely—you know they may never fully go away—but for now, they seem manageable, less overwhelming. The boys' words echo in your mind: It's not about performance. We care about you. You fulfil us...

"Perhaps we should just spend some time together," suggests Remus, breaking the silence that has settled over the room. "No expectations, no pressure... Just enjoying each other's company."

"Yeah," Sirius agrees, standing up and stretching his arms above his head. "Sounds perfect."

James gives your hand a final squeeze before letting go, pushing himself off the bed to join Sirius. "Come on, then. Let's make ourselves comfortable."

What follows is an evening filled with shared laughter and whispered secrets, the four of you huddled together on your bed, talking about anything and everything that comes to mind. There's no urgency, no expectation of what might happen next; just the simple pleasure of being close, reaffirming the bond that goes beyond the physical.

As the night draws in and the glow of the setting sun fades, replaced by the soft light of the moon spilling through your window, you find yourself nestled between James and Sirius, Remus's arm thrown lazily over your legs. Their presence is warm and comforting—the best kind of anchor—and with every passing moment, you feel a little more grounded, a bit more secure.

"Thank you," you murmur into the quiet, your words barely audible yet carrying the weight of your gratitude.

There's a beat of silence before Sirius speaks, his voice low and laced with tenderness. "Always, Y/N. Always."

And in that moment, surrounded by their warmth and love, you realise the truth of their words. They love you, wholly and unconditionally, despite your flaws and insecurities. And perhaps most importantly, you haven't let them down. If anything, you've shown them once again why they fell for you in the first place: your strength, your resilience, your willingness to open up—even when it scares you.

[gensokyogains]

Also thinking of what a casino built into a cave would look like-

[sugarlywhispers]

b.katsuki x reader (fem) | lava girl!reader, prohero!reader

The moment Pro Hero Dynamight lands on the scene, he knows something’s very wrong. Not only because of the amount of chaos around but also because fuckin’ Deku is down. Literally, face down, whole body trembling in pain due to the beating he just received, and fuck, that’s not a scene Bakugou encounters often.

Dynamight runs towards his hero partner, hand immediately landing on Deku’s back. Yes, he’s breathing, heart beats gallop in his chest –he is alive. Deku moves, raising his head when he feels Bakugou’s touch. The blond sighs relieved.

“Deku… What the fuck happened?!” 

“The villain’s… quirk…” Deku coughs in between words.

He doesn’t have a chance to completely warn Katsuki before an explosion makes them both fly apart. Dynamight swears loudly, barely holding his stance as the blast pulls him away. When the smoke subsides, he opens his eyes and they widen when right in front of him he sees himself.

A carbon copy of Pro Hero Dynamight comes walking, smiling smugly and evil as his cannon shows the residues of the blast.

“THE FUCK??!!” The real Pro Hero exclaims, completely gobsmacked. And angry. How they fucking dare to copy him?? A villain above all!!

“Kacchan… His quirk copies a person and their quirk! Look out!” 

As Deku yells in his way, Bakugou has to dodge another blast, this time intended completely at him. He hisses as his left elbow caught a bit of the fire. Fuck. This villain even copied the amount of power? By the burning pain in his elbow, Bakughou checks off that as a yes.

He shakes the pain off his brain, standing ready this time for another blow from himself. He’s fucking ready to beat some ass –well, kinda like his own ass.

But as again the smoke dissipates, this time is not himself who Katsuki encounters but you.

It's you.

You stand a few meters away in your hero costume. Dynamight frowns, “Y/H/N?? What the hell are you doing here?!” He intends to walk closer to you, but the evil smirk that appears on your face is so out of your character –especially directed towards him– and Deku’s yell again makes Katsuki stop dead in his tracks.

“NO! It’s not her! It’s the villain!”

A bone-chilling laugh leaves your mouth that makes everyone in the scene freeze in worry as lava strings start falling from your hands, and Dynamight gulps. Holy fuck.

For the first time in his career as a pro hero, Bakugou Katsuki doesn’t fucking know what to do. Fuck, he knows the person in front of him is not you but the villain. Yet… SHIT! FUCK! He can’t fucking fire against his wife! He could fight against anyone… Damn it, even if it was Deku or Kirishima or anyone, he could do it. He knows is the villain. But you?? Hell fucking NO.

So, Bakugou ends up doing what he never does, no matter how beaten up he gets. But this is a fuking emergency. 

“I need backup. NOW!” Dynamight barks through his hearing aid, and the whole agency hears loud and clear as everyone moves towards the scene.

In the meantime, Bakugou avoids every whip of lava the villain in the form of your persona throws at him. He dodges smartly –thanking every possible existing god that you bugged him enough into training with you similar to this a while ago; if not, he doubts he would be this agile against this fucking attack. With every attack, he moves further away from where Deku is –alongside some civilians, ‘cause those noisy ass fuckers are always in the way trying to take a damn picture!– and closer to the river. He needs to find a way to get the villain to make some contact with the water. If this piece of shit villain has your quirk now, it would only take a bit of water and they are fucking out.

Dynamight fails to dodge a particular whip that catches his shoulder, making him groan in pain as he falls to his knees.

“You’re pretty stupid if you think I haven’t realized what you’re trying to do,” you laugh mockingly, your lava whips stopping for a moment. “I thought you were smarter than that… baby.”

The way the villain says the nickname in your voice makes Katsuki want to vomit. It’s so… disturbing and ugly. He will definitely have nightmares after this.

Fuck! What the hell does he do now?! He can’t– FUCKING HELL! He feels dizzy, the sole image of you makes him want to puke, because he can’t. He can’t shoot you. It doesn’t matter that it’s a villain, it’s the perfect image of you, his beautiful and loving wife, in front of him. He will cut his own damn hands if he ever has to shoot against any form of you. He can’t– He CAN’T– HE FUCKING CAN’T–

As the villain laughs at his pathetic turmoil and a whip of lava stands high in the air ready to be sent at his kneeling form on the floor and probably cut him in two with the burn, a roar comes from under the ground. 

It’s an intimidating deep sound that makes everything tremble. The sound it’s so profound and raucous, filled with rage and determination that Katsuki feels it in his chest.

The ground between him and the villain starts to collapse, a burning heat and lava coming from down there that makes the villain retreat several meters when a wave of lava lunges against them.

And right there, from the middle, you emerge. 

Katsuki shakes his head suddenly realizing what is going on. Shit, it’s some sort of trance.

“You fucking dare hurt my husband with my own quirk?!” You growl, completely blinded by rage at well– yourself.

Pro Hero Dynamight snorts astonished, his heart beating fast and so fucking in love with you. Fuck, he loves it when you defend him, and he will never get tired of witnessing such a majestic view. Lava dancing around you at your disposal and own will, whole body glowing in red heat that chills his bones at how demonic you look. Fucking beautiful. Beautifully perfect. All his.

You lunge again against the villain, this time yourself included with the lava wave; but as you’re about to approach them, the villain changes form again and it’s Katsuki in front of you. It makes you hesitate in your attack as you stop right on time in front of the villain.

The real Katsuki opens his eyes wide as he finally understands.

The villain probably takes the form of one’s loved one to weaken them, not only attacking with their same quirk, but also sinking their mind into a state of submission that prohibits any counterattack. Shit, that’s a fuckin’ powerful villain. But it is just that. A copy. And it’ll never understand each quirk as the owners themselves. Still though, the use of the quirks are pretty lethal, real. Damn it.

“FUCK, NO!” He screams as the villain in Katsuki’s form smirks evilly, less than a meter in front of you, and his canon fires against you.

Howitzer Impact.

The blast flies you away, completely unexpected and unable to control your own body in your flight. And Katsuki is right there to catch you.

The villain cackles wildly, the smoke around blinding him from the real heroes. He looks so satisfied he could land an attack like that, and to none other than Dynamight’s wife. “How’s wifey, Dynamight? She survived? How would like the titles on the news, mh? ‘Dynamight kills his own wife’ or ‘Poor Dynamight couldn’t save his wife’?” He taunts, the smoke clearing the view of the real Bakugou, one knee on the floor and the other flexed as his entire body covers yours in protection.

He’s looking at you, the blast made your lava retreat completely even from your body as you look now in your normal and delicate human form, the fire has burned your face, right from under your left eye down to the neck. When you flutter your eyes open, you encounter the hateful look he has written all over his face as his eyes roar only one word: KILL.

When Pro Hero Dynamight turns to look at the villain, Deku –who finally got closer to the scene with Pro Hero Shoto holding him up with an arm around his shoulder– swears under his breath. He knows that look.

The villain in Dynamight’s form takes a step back when the real hero stands up slowly, a crazed look in his face as he turns.

“Now, this is fuckin’ personal…”

[wandasaura]

YOU CAN HEAR IT IN THE SILENCE

summary — as you navigate this new season of love with wanda and natasha, you make the time to fall into soft moments of comfortable silence, even as the world prepares to challenge you as the semester begins

warning(s) — established relationship, married wandanat, domestic fluff, very light elements of dom/sub dynamics, alludes to mommy kink if you squint, oral fixation, just soft girlfriends wandanat and their little duckling

authors note — a little blurb inspired by this ask

The love you held so tenderly in your heart for Natasha had somehow grown to include Wanda as the months came and passed and the weather changed just as quickly. You’d gone through seasons of scarves, of thin jackets and long layers, of bikinis and designer sunglasses. This new season was softer, sweeter, and you cherished where it would lead you as the leaves changed and the breeze carried a welcomed chill. Throughout the seasons of your love, there were things that had never grown on you despite the weight they held in your relationship. You’d still not found a love for gardening despite seeing Wanda through a plethora of projects and renovations since the barren ground of winter had become plush with moisture and sunlight, and you still couldn’t tolerate the sitcoms that she’d roped Natasha into adoring just as equally. You could compromise, find entertainment in their joy, but some things had remained only theirs throughout your relationship, and you’d find genuine peace with that. Still, there were nights where you tried to fit into their puzzle for two, attempted to merge the sliver of separation that harmed no one, but could feel quite isolating when all you desired was their silent company. 

As you laid across Natasha, your head cradled between soft thighs in her lap, her fingers weaved into your hair that had been washed and blow dried affectionately just an hour earlier, you found a gentle peace in the laugh track that filled the living room with a delicate buzz and the lightness of the sound stages that brought forth an incandescent glow which turned soft colored eyes that you’d memorized since that first season of love where scarves had been wrapped around necks into dazzling specs of precious priceless gemstones. You hummed every so often, when her nails scratched at your scalp just right, but other than your soft noises of contentment, nobody spoke. 

You’d only gone back to classes last week, and while the introduction period was calm as it always had been, the buzz of academic anticipation had exhausted you tremendously. Your senior year was here, firmly upon you whether you were ready to dive into it or not. This would truly be the turning point that would irreversibly contribute to your future, and the stress of coming out on top felt debilitating before it had even truly begun. Wanda and Natasha had simultaneously taken a plunge into organized chaos within the last seven days, now back in the office full time, although Natasha still prioritized working from home. Your routine had shifted since the season of bikinis and designed sunglasses, now filled with long sleeves and cozy shorts that didn’t dig into your belly during lectures, but there was something to look forward to in this new stage of navigating your relationship. 

You were up earlier now most days – sparing Wednesdays which fortunately provided you a break – needing to be to campus by nine, having to leave at eight to ensure traffic didn’t set back your ambitious attempt to live off campus during the semester, which meant that you had a couple of soft, tender minutes to steal with Natasha before you really did have to start getting ready at seven. She never did come downstairs before you left for school, preferring to milk the absolute most out of her quiet mornings before she headed into the office across the hall, but you could count on stealing a kiss from Wanda who left within the same ten minutes of you, most times in the kitchen, after you’ve stolen a sip of her coffee that was always poured into the same stainless steel travel mug, but sometimes your departures aligned, and she’d walk you to the car with a gentle hand on the center of your back, and she’d kiss you sweetly before seeing you out of the driveway with an enthusiastic wave of encouragement. It was different, less entangled, but their soft company guided you through the mornings where it felt impossible to leave their side. 

Saturdays had an unspoken promise to them now. Where Wanda had once prioritized not working so intensely on Fridays, wanting to spend that day with you and Natasha at home, she’d rearranged her schedule to assure that any leftover assignments were delegated between trusted employees that could handle and meet the standard of which their company strived to uphold. You’d done nothing short of nothing all day, starting with a cheap breakfast of frozen pancakes and strawberries that weren’t quite in season anymore, leading into a dip in the pool beneath wind rustling leaves, although you quickly realized that fall temperatures were not as appealing as summer, and despite the use of the heater that Natasha had cracked up to a mid-ninety, you scrambled out within minutes and cocooned yourself in a fluffy bath towel that provided more protection than a beach towel could. You’d ordered takeout for lunch, ate those leftovers for dinner, and soaked up every moment of company you could in between meals at the dining room table, knowing that eventually, you’d have deadlines to meet and they’d have cases to work even if you’d silently vowed to spend as much time as you could reconnecting on Saturdays. 

When Natasha shifted beneath you, gently picking your head up from where it had rested in her lap for the last hour, you whined in discontentment, struggling against her tender hold to reclaim your position against her. She laughed softly in response, leaning down to lay a sweet kiss against your temple, before she slid out from beneath you entirely, stretching her arms above her head and revealing the milky skin of her belly that you couldn’t resist reaching out to poke. Without her fingers tangled into your hair, keeping you calm and stimulated against her warmth, the echoing laughter that played from the speakers scratched at your brain annoyingly. You sat up fully with a huff, criss crossing your legs as you looked at her glumly, unable to conceal your betrayal. 

“Oh, I’m so mean, aren’t I?” She cooed softly, cupping your face to lay her lips against yours, leaving you with the taste of her chapstick against your tongue before she slipped away into the kitchen. The sounds of her filling up three different cups of water told you all that you needed to know, and begrudgingly you attempted to rise to your feet and follow her, wanting to help complete the routine she’d set for herself when you’d first moved in, but Wanda grabbing at your waist kept you confined to the living room and her presence alone. 

“Nu uh, we’re not playing duckling tonight.” She teased softly, her fingers adorned with glimmering silver rings slipping beneath the shirt you’d stolen from her closet after you’d showered off the salted pool water that tarnished your softness, her blunt nails raking trails down your skin as she held you, keeping you from seeking out Natasha like you’d sought out to do. “You gonna come cuddle with me? Or am I not as good as Natty?” There was a wrinkle of lightness in her tone, a clear indication that she found great amusement in your clinginess that had been directed at her through the past season of bikinis and designer sunglasses. 

“Not as good.” You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest, although you melted into her within the same breath that you turned down her proposition, which prompted an affectionate chuckle and a kiss to be laid against your head. “Want Natty.” You grumbled, mindlessly grabbing at the hand that laid draped against your lap, keeping you pinned against her chest. 

“Natty’s coming back. You’re stuck with me in the meantime.” She laughed, humming softly when you lifted her hand to your lips and kissed at each glimmering knuckle, the cool metal against your lips a refreshing addition of stimulation, although that quickly found a way to become a reason for you to wrap your tongue around her pointer finger and give an experimental suckle. “Ah, so that’s your problem. My sitcoms still boring you, detka?” Wanda teased, playfully pressing down against your tongue, startling you as you gagged softly in response, wide eyes flittering upward to meet hers. 

You nodded softly, a crinkle in your nose an amusing sight as you sat entangled with her limbs, teeth nibbling affectionately on her pointer finger, not willing to let it go. “Well, let's fix that then, hm?” You whined softly when she removed her finger from your possessive hold, but sank two in place of the one that you’d clung to, pacifying your restlessness. “There we go, that’s better isn’t it, moya lyubov?” 

You nodded softly, sinking further into Wanda, mindlessly watching whatever sitcom had stolen both her and Natasha’s interest as you suckled and chewed on her fingers. When Natasha came back, you hardly noticed, too entranced with the sensation of cold metal against your tongue. 

“It sucks not having you both home with me, but I can get used to this.” She sighed softly, her hand coming to rest on your thigh, keeping you pinned between their bodies equally. 

[astarioffsimpmain]

Consternation

Astarion x F!Reader

Warnings: Explicit violence; gore; mentions of abuse

Synopsis: Astarion realizes that Cazador is no longer his worst fear

Author's Note: This is my first ever Astarion fic, and I have to thank the members of the Astarion fandom that I have met thus far. This fic would not exist without your encouragment. <3

It was foreign to him, this fear. This icy chill that rattled his bones struck him deep at the core and unsettled him in a way that had him desperate to both pace ceaselessly and never move again. Oh, he had felt fear. It had been his constant companion since he was taken by Cazador; often his only companion as he writhed in the dark, his eyes open but nothing behind them. 

But this… 

He watched as Karlach carried you back to the campsite. You were bloodied almost beyond recognition, your heartbeat barely reaching his sensitive ears. It was his fault. You and he had argued last night; it was petty. He had been petty. He used the words that he knew would hurt you, and you, too spent after a grueling day to see through his act, had retreated to your own tent to seek out sleep in painful solitude. But sleep had not come. He'd seen it in your eyes this morning when you emerged from your tent, squinting and glaring up at the sun as though it was your enemy, and not his. 

And when you, he, and Karlach had gone out in search of food and firewood, you had been too slow, too fatigued, and too distracted to guard yourself from the attack. Orcs. They were a vicious bunch, springing on the three of you from the thicket near the base of the mountain range where you hunted, and while he and Karlach had suffered several minor injuries before winning out, you took a blow far more damaging. One of the orcs had taken you by surprise and bludgeoned you in the side of the head with its club before gaining the upper hand and stepping down hard on your ribs. 

He'd been focused on the orc in front of him until he heard the crunch. The sound was so grotesquely familiar to him that time nearly stopped as he swiveled his head in your direction. No. You lay flat on your back, your body bent in several unnatural directions, as the orc stood over you triumphantly, raising its club to finish the job. Your head lolled to the side and your unharmed eye met his and he shuddered, his breath catching in his throat. You didn't look scared. You didn't even look angry. He knew that expression. He'd seen it on your beautiful face as the moon bathed you in ethereal glow, the night he confessed his feelings to you. The night he surrendered his mask of flippant indifference and let you see him for who… for what he truly is. You had looked at him with such- such love, that night, so much that he thought he wouldn't be able to bear it. 

But now? Now he would trade the air in his lungs and every day of freedom he had left to be there with you on that night again. He would rather surrender himself to his master than watch you die because of him, and still look at him with love. 

It wasn't even him that had managed to save you in the end. It was Karlach, who had all but rammed the orc off of the top of you before gathering you up in her arms and running back towards camp. He had stood in a useless, pitiful daze, and had your tiefling companion not been there to end the last of the orcs before saving you, he would have been quick to join you at death's door. He remained useless as he followed Karlach back to the camp where Wyll, Shadowheart and Gale rushed off in the directions of their tents to see if they had something that could help you. Lae'zel had let out a bloodthirsty cry upon seeing you, demanding the blood of whoever or whatever had attacked you. Once Karlach told her the story, she posted herself at the edge of the campground, circling to prevent any more surprises. 

Everyone was doing something. Everyone but him. All he could do was sit beside you with his cool hands running over your body, trying desperately to cool you down. Your face was marred nearly beyond recognition, and the blood from your internal wounds had begun to pool just below the surface of the skin on your abdomen, creating angry violet spots all over your soft and beautiful body; the body he had held bare against his not too long ago; the heart he promised to love as wholly and genuinely as he was capable, beating far too weakly inside your chest. Guilt twisted further inside of him. If only he was strong, like you believed he was. If only Cazador didn't haunt his every moment. If only he was truly as free as you made him feel. Perhaps if he was better, stronger, more, he wouldn't have said those things to you. He wouldn't have hurt you, and instead of a sleepless night alone, you could have been wrapped up in him.

But he was foolish; weak; less. And he let his pain seep out like a fresh wound onto you, and now you suffered for it. Up until this very moment he had been under the false illusion that being sent back to Cazador was the worst fate he could possibly endure. How many times did he have to be proven wrong by you before he would listen?! Losing you was the fear he never expected. Losing you was far worse than losing himself, and the realization of that only deepened the already gripping dread in his heart. 

"Please," he whispered softly, leaning over your unmoving form. "Please, gods, stay alive. Even if you hate me forever, please stay alive. Please." His voice cracked as a tear rolled down his cheek and collided with yours. His body trembled as he prayed to gods he wasn't even sure he believed in, wishing for a miracle he didn't really think could happen. What would he do without you? He always insisted that he was his own person, but… was he? Or had he just traded one master for another; the first a master of his body, and the second a master of his heart?

[lurochar]

A Snow Day in Hell

Heeey, anyone else remember that ‘special feeling’ meme from years ago? No? Me either

–----------------------------------------------

Hell had frozen over.

Literally.

It was an extraordinarily and incredibly rare occurrence, according to Charlie, who, a literal native demon born of Hell, had only seen it snow once before in her lifetime.

It generally occurred once every few hundred years, perhaps add or minus a century here or there, Lucifer could not be bothered to keep track when Charlie had asked him how often it actually happened since the snow only stuck around for a day at the very most and was just a minor inconvenience.

You were honestly excited to witness such a unique experience and were dismayed to find that Alastor could care less about such a thing.

And so, you had to pester him and even promised him a favour (his proceeding and chilling smile sent immediate shivers down your spine) just to take a stroll with you around town (and would probably regret when he came to collect that favour).

“Of course, Darling! I have no important tasks to complete today. Why, I would be ever so honoured to escort you to town on such a… lovely day.”

You gave Alastor a skeptical look when he glanced outside with an expression that screamed the opposite of what he was saying.

He clearly hated snow.

“But, seeing my partner beg me in such a pitiful manner – well, how can I possibly say no to that?”

Maybe you should have just asked Charlie? She seemed just as excited as you to see the snowfall.

It took quite a bit of self control for Alastor to not let out a dark chuckle at your varying expressions. You may be his companion, but he was still a sadist through and through. 

Maybe it was a bit soft when it came to you though. Just a little bit.

Besides, as irritating and cold as it was, a little snow, that would literally only last for a day, would never hurt anyone, right?

~00~

“It’ll be on any minute now!”

You covered your face with a pillow in pure embarrassment, unable to look at the screen of the TV as Charlie bounced in excitement. 

How did she find out? 

Ah damn, she already gathered the others to watch.

“W-why are you here?” You barely lifted your face enough to eye Alastor, seeing him sitting smugly in his usual chair. “It was you, wasn’t it?! You told Charlie, didn’t you!?”

“Well, of course I did!” Alastor’s grin was utterly demonic and he was obviously taking pleasure in your mortification. “Normally, I am completely against these awful picture box shows and was utterly baffled when you agreed to a… television interview, Darling, with me when you are completely aware of my distaste.”

“Uh, wait,” Angel Dust raised his arm, “you’re on TV, Smiles? How did they capture you on camera? How’d you not, ya know, blow up the whole network with that whole staticky thing you do? Why is Vox even letting this air?”

Everyone glanced over to Alastor, but he answered nothing.

You had no idea either.

“Oh, it’s on!” Charlie pointed with a wide grin and you slumped over, ready to just pack your bags and leave to save yourself the embarrassment.

On the TV, the scene was that of you and a tall figure that was distorted, blurry, and pixelated, yet was clearly Alastor from shape and colour alone. Honestly, you were surprised he was showing up even this much and not blowing out the camera like Angel Dust had pointed out.

It was a simple question, you were only stopped by the news reporter to ask what you thought of the unprecedented snowfall.

You had just been caught up in the moment, the idea of experiencing the whole once-in-a-lifetime thing with your partner.

So you had replied with something straight out of a Christmas romcom movie or something equally as cheesy. You really had no idea where it came from. Maybe the fact that Alastor had summoned an umbrella and was holding it over both of your heads?

It was mainly so he wouldn’t get snow in his ears, you would find out later.

“Isn’t this just amazing? Snow that falls only every few hundred years? It’s stunning, isn’t it?” Your face was beginning to turn red as you continued on without waiting for another question from the reporter. “Being in the snow with my lover like this immerses me in a special feeling. I love it.”

Oh fuck.

How the fuck could you say that with a straight face!?

It was clear that Alastor felt the shame for you, even through his blurry distorted figure, you could see his ears flatten against his head and his head completely turn away from the reporter like he wasn’t there to hear your cringey words.

“Oh my Satan, are you fucking serious?” The news reporter sneered at you. “I just asked you about some fucking frozen water. Not your version of a romantic date you’ll have in your shitty wet dreams.”

You blinked and the distorted Alastor slowly turned his head back towards the reporter.

“This is fucking Hell, not some Barbieland bulls–”

You couldn’t help it and a few of your more demonic features were showing before you could stop them and you grabbed the umbrella Alastor was still holding. “You asked me a question about snow and I answered and then you make fun of me for that!? So what if I want a romantic outing with my lover!?” You shoved the umbrella’s pole into the gut of the reporter and growl into the camera, hearing the cameraman cry out before it cuts out and the interview is over.

.

.

.

There was complete silence.

“W-well, maybe it wasn’t as bad as I thought it was.” You scratch your cheek, “J-just forget what I sa–”

“Oh, that was so romantic!” Charlie’s eyes were wide and sparkly, “I never knew snow could make you feel that way.” She gasped loudly, looking at Vaggie. “There’s still time! Come on, Vaggie! We need to go out in the snow to ‘immerse ourselves’ in that special feeling!”

Vaggie just throws you a grumpy look before sighing and following after Charlie.

Angel Dust is laughing his ass off, “Special feeling? Seriously, Dollface? Did that cold freeze your brain cells or somethin’? Well, at least ya showed that dick reporter who’s boss. Smiles, over there, did nothin’.”

“I don’t need him to do everything for me.” You muttered, glancing over at Husk and, for once, glad to see he’s too drunk to care and Niffty had lost interest as soon as she saw a cockroach. 

You looked over to Alastor.

“Are you satisfied?” You asked with a sigh, “Watching me embarrass myself and then lose control on the news that’s aired all around Hell?”

Alastor’s grin widened. “Very much so, Darling. Not only have you provided me with great entertainment, but now you have also given me an excuse to go after the one who aired your follies. I do believe I should give my ‘old pal’ a visit quite soon.”

Yeah.

You really should have just asked Charlie earlier.

[wasabidottie]

Since you asked... recently been thinking about being in a club or bar or something and you're just not into the guy hitting you up. Maybe he started getting creepy or maybe it's something different and you do that thing where you're like "There you are baby" and get close to Schlatt and stuff? I might not be explaining this great but there you go

Can i buy you a drink? | jschlatt

a/n: yesss thank you so much for this request !!! i love this trope :)) hope i did it justice

The bass of the music pulsed through the floor, vibrating up your legs as you stood near the bar. Neon lights flickered, illuminating the sea of people dancing under dim, colorful hues. The atmosphere was thick with the heat of too many bodies and the scent of spilled alcohol. You were nursing a drink, half-heartedly, more out of habit than enjoyment. You hadn't come here to get drunk or even dance—just a night out with friends who had long since disappeared into the crowd, leaving you at the bar.

That’s when he showed up.

You noticed him from the corner of your eye first. Leaning in closer than necessary, the strong scent of cologne mixed with something unidentifiable wafted toward you. He was good-looking, sure—slicked-back hair, crisp shirt unbuttoned a little too far down, exposing a chain you could bet was more for show than sentiment. But the way he looked at you, like you were something to be won, sent a chill up your spine.

He leaned in close, his voice low and smooth, dripping with intent. "You come here often?"

Classic. You smiled politely, taking a sip of your drink, hoping he’d get the hint. He didn’t.

"You know, you look like you could use some company. Someone to really show you a good time," he continued, his eyes scanning you in a way that made you feel exposed. The way he spoke—like this was some sort of game he was playing, and you were the prize at the end—turned your stomach.

You shifted, trying to subtly angle yourself away, but he didn’t let up. His hand slid onto the bar next to you, fingers tapping like he had all the time in the world to wait for you to cave.

"You’re too pretty to be here all alone," he said, his tone growing a little more insistent, like he could sense your discomfort and chose to ignore it. “What do you say I buy you a drink?”

You forced another tight smile, shaking your head. “No, thanks. I’m good.”

But he didn’t take the hint. He moved a step closer, his breath now warm against your ear. "C’mon, baby. Don’t be shy."

Your grip tightened on your glass. Every inch of you screamed to get away from this guy, but it was like he had some radar for women trying to escape him. He leaned in further, his shoulder brushing yours, trapping you between him and the bar. Your heart raced, not with excitement, but with the creeping anxiety of being cornered.

You scanned the room desperately for an escape. Your friends were nowhere in sight, and the crowd was too thick to easily slip away unnoticed. That’s when you saw him—a tall figure, standing a few feet away, hands in his pockets, scanning the room with disinterest. He wasn’t paying attention to you, at least not yet, but he looked like your only shot.

Without thinking, you acted.

“There you are, baby!” you called out, your voice louder than usual as you pushed off from the bar, practically throwing yourself into the stranger’s space.

The guy's eyebrows shot up in surprise as you grabbed his arm and pressed yourself into his side, looking up at him with the most convincing, overly affectionate smile you could muster. You clung to him, gripping the sleeve of his jacket as though you’d known him for years.

“Sorry I kept you waiting,” you added, your voice sweet but laced with an edge, your eyes darting nervously back toward the creep at the bar.

The stranger—Schlatt, as you'd come to know him later—looked down at you, his expression a mix of surprise and amusement. For a split second, you feared he might blow your cover, push you away, or worse, expose your little act for what it was. But then something clicked in his eyes, and his mouth curved into a smirk.

“There you are,” he said, playing along, his voice deep and rough around the edges. He slung an arm casually over your shoulders, pulling you in a little closer. “Thought you were gonna leave me hangin’.”

The creep’s face fell instantly, his bravado deflating like a balloon. He glanced between you and Schlatt, trying to gauge if this was real or not. You could almost see the calculations running through his mind, the gears turning as he tried to figure out if it was worth the effort to keep pushing.

Schlatt leaned down, his breath warm near your ear as he muttered low, so only you could hear, “You in trouble, sweetheart?”

You nodded, barely perceptibly, not wanting to break the act.

Schlatt straightened up, his expression hardening as he turned his gaze back to the creep. “Something I can help you with, buddy?”

The guy faltered, his confidence wavering. “Nah, man. Didn’t realize she was with you.”

“Yeah, well, now you know.” Schlatt’s voice was sharp, edged with something dangerous that made even you tense up. His arm tightened around your shoulders, the gesture protective without being overbearing.

The creep raised his hands in mock surrender, backing away with a fake smile. “All good, man. Didn’t mean to step on your toes.”

Schlatt didn’t respond, just watched with narrowed eyes as the guy slinked back into the crowd, finally losing interest. The tension in your shoulders slowly melted as the guy disappeared from sight.

Schlatt kept his arm around you for a moment longer, as if making sure the creep didn’t have any second thoughts about coming back. The warmth of his body next to yours was oddly reassuring, even though you were still on edge from the whole encounter. Slowly, you stepped away, exhaling in relief as you placed a bit of space between you.

"Thanks for that," you muttered, awkwardly tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "I didn’t mean to rope you into—"

He cut you off with a low chuckle, shaking his head. "Nah, don’t worry about it. You looked like you needed the assist."

You glanced back toward the bar where the guy had been, now completely gone. The knot in your stomach loosened, but there was still a tinge of unease lingering beneath your skin. You’d been out before, dealt with the usual drunk guys who didn’t understand boundaries, but this one had been different. Slimy. Like he enjoyed watching you squirm.

Schlatt took a step back, stuffing his hands into his pockets casually. He didn’t seem like the type to linger for long, but before he could say anything else, you blurted out, "Can I buy you a drink? You know, as a thank you?"

His eyebrows raised slightly, surprise flickering in his dark eyes before he smirked. "I’m not one to turn down free booze."

You smiled, grateful for the easy way he deflected any awkwardness. You turned back toward the bar, signaling the bartender before leaning against the counter, feeling Schlatt’s presence beside you.

"What’ll it be?" you asked, glancing up at him. He was taller than you expected, and up close, his broad shoulders and relaxed stance gave off the impression that nothing in the world could bother him.

"Whiskey. Neat."

Of course. You nodded to the bartender, ordering a whiskey for him and another drink for yourself. The bar was still busy, people pushing in on either side of you, but you felt a little more grounded now that the creep was gone and Schlatt was beside you. He didn’t say much, just observed the room with a quiet intensity, like he was always a step ahead of whatever was going on around him.

The bartender slid the drinks toward you, and you handed one to Schlatt. He took it with a nod, raising it slightly in thanks before taking a sip.

"So, do you make a habit of rescuing random girls from sleazeballs?" you asked, half-joking as you swirled the liquid in your own glass.

Schlatt chuckled, a low, rough sound that made the corners of your lips twitch upward. "Only the ones that look like they need it," he replied, glancing sideways at you. His gaze lingered for a beat longer than expected, and you couldn’t help but notice the way his eyes crinkled slightly at the edges when he smiled.

"Well, lucky me," you said, taking a sip of your drink. The alcohol burned down your throat, but it was a welcome distraction from the adrenaline still buzzing in your veins.

Schlatt looked around the club, his gaze sweeping over the crowd, then back at you. "You here with friends?"

You nodded. "Yeah, they kinda… disappeared into the dance floor about an hour ago." You laughed a little, though it sounded more tired than you intended. "They’re probably having a good time. I was just trying to avoid getting stuck out there."

He grinned. "Not much of a dancer?"

You shook your head. "Not when it’s this packed. And not when people like that guy are around."

Schlatt shrugged, taking another sip of his drink. "Can’t blame you. Most of these places are just a breeding ground for idiots."

"Yeah, tell me about it."

For a moment, you just stood there, the music pounding in the background as you shared an easy silence. Schlatt didn’t seem to be in any hurry to leave, and for some reason, that made you feel oddly comfortable. There was something about his laid-back demeanor, the way he didn’t push for conversation but also didn’t make you feel like you needed to fill the silence, that kept you grounded.

"By the way," you said after a beat, "I never caught your name—"

"Schlatt," he interrupted, holding out his hand. His grip was firm, warm against your palm.

You smiled, offering your name in return. “Nice to meet you… Schlatt.”

“Likewise,” he said, his tone slightly teasing. “Though you could’ve just called me your boyfriend instead of dragging me into the whole ‘baby’ bit. Bit over the top, don’t you think?”

You cringed, laughing lightly. “Yeah, that was… spur of the moment. Desperate times.”

He snorted. “Could’ve fooled me. You sold it pretty well.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, shaking your head. “Well, thanks for playing along.”

Schlatt shrugged, the smirk never leaving his face as he took another sip of his whiskey. "Eh, wasn’t a bad gig. Could do worse than having a pretty girl cling to me for a bit."

Your face warmed at the offhand compliment, but you played it cool, trying not to give him the satisfaction of seeing you flustered. "Pretty sure you saved me more than I saved myself"

He raised an eyebrow, his smirk deepening. "Don’t sell yourself short. You pulled that off like a pro."

You chuckled, but before you could respond, the music shifted to a slower, bass-heavy beat. The crowd around you swayed, bodies pressing even closer together as people paired off for the slower tempo. You watched them for a moment, suddenly hyper-aware of how close Schlatt was standing.

"You, uh, wanna get out of here?" you asked, realizing how awkward it sounded the moment it left your mouth. "I mean, not like that—just, the crowd’s getting a bit much, and—"

Schlatt raised a hand, cutting off your rambling. "Relax. I know what you mean." He tilted his head toward the door. "Let’s bounce. This place is a shitshow anyway."

You nodded in agreement, grateful for the escape route. The two of you made your way through the crowd, navigating around groups of people too caught up in their own nights to notice anything else. The cool night air hit you as soon as you stepped outside, a welcome relief from the heat and noise inside the club.

Schlatt stuffed his hands back into his pockets, glancing over at you. "You good? Or do you need another hero act?"

You laughed, feeling more relaxed now that you were out of the chaotic environment. "I think I can manage from here. But I’ll keep you on speed dial just in case."

He snorted, kicking at a stray pebble on the sidewalk. "Sure thing, sweetheart. Anytime."

The street was quieter, the neon signs reflecting off the pavement as cars drove by lazily. You turned to him, feeling a sudden urge to prolong the conversation, even though you weren’t quite sure why. "So, Schlatt… what brings you to places like that?"

He gave you a sidelong glance, the corner of his mouth twitching. "What, you think I don’t seem like the club type?"

You shrugged, smiling. "Maybe more of a dive bar type."

"Spot on," he said, amusement in his voice. "Honestly, I was just killing time. Buddy bailed on me last minute, and I figured I’d check it out. But not my scene. Yours?"

"Definitely not," you replied, shaking your head. "I’m more of a stay at home with a good book type."

He chuckled. "Didn’t peg you for a bookworm."

"Yeah, well, you didn’t exactly strike me as the white knight type, but here we are."

Schlatt laughed, a deep, genuine sound that caught you off guard. "Touché."

The silence between you wasn’t uncomfortable, but you could feel the night winding down. The adrenaline from earlier had worn off, leaving you with a strange mix of exhaustion and curiosity. You didn’t want the conversation to end just yet, but you also didn’t want to seem desperate for his company.

"So," Schlatt said, breaking the silence as he rocked back on his heels. "You heading home?"

You nodded, feeling the weight of the evening settle on your shoulders. "Yeah. It’s getting late."

He glanced down the street, then back at you. "You want me to walk you? Or… you good?"

For a moment, you considered brushing off the offer, but there was something about the way he asked—like he actually gave a damn, even if he wasn’t showing it outright. You hesitated before smiling softly. "Actually… I wouldn’t mind the company."

Schlatt’s smirk softened into something more genuine. "Alright, then. Let’s go."

[charlesslut16]

-Cold hands-

summary : you and charles go outside and wander around but your hands are freezing colf. Charles knows an solution...

PAIRING : charles leclerc x fem!reader

WARNINGS : none

note : I am super late but i hope that you still like it.

december masterlist ; masterlist 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The winter chill always found a way to sneak into my fingertips, leaving them icy despite layers of gloves. Charles, your sweet boyfriend, was a beacon of warmth in this frosty season.

His understanding nature always comes through when your hands turn into miniature icicles. Charles was concerned that if you were not warm enough, you would freeze to death.

You were strolling through a winter wonderland, the air crisp and the streets adorned with delicate snowflakes. You tried to tuck your hands into your pockets, but the cold had already seeped in.

Charles, ever observant, noticed my struggle. And immediately he was concerned. He had told you to bring your gloves, but you were too stubborn and went without them outside.

With that heart-melting smile, he gently took your hands in his, his touch a soothing balm against the biting cold. The warmth of his hands enveloped yours like a cozy embrace, instantly thawing away the frosty chill.

He chuckled softly, teasingly calling them "little blocks of ice" while rubbing them gently between his warm palms. His warmth transferred to your frozen fingers, and you couldn't help but marvel at how his touch had the magical ability to make everything better.

As the both of you continued your stroll, Charles intertwined your fingers, holding your hands firmly in his. His caring nature never ceased to amaze you; he would often blow warm air onto your hands or rub them vigorously to bring back the warmth.

The winter landscape seemed even more enchanting with his loving gestures. Charles would occasionally bring your hands to his lips, blowing warm breaths onto them, creating a playful game to banish the cold.

His laughter echoed through the wintry air, filling my heart with joy. The laughter that made you fall in love with him instantly. The moment you heard his laughs, charles had caught you.

At one point, you found yourselves near a charming café adorned with twinkling lights and a welcoming fireplace. You stepped inside, the cozy ambiance embracing you like a comforting hug.

Sitting by the crackling fire, Charles took your hands in his once more, gently rubbing them between his to generate warmth. His thoughtful gestures were as heartwarming as the fire crackling before us.

With a mischievous glint in his eyes, he suggested a remedy for the chilly hands - a cup of steaming hot chocolate. As you sipped on the rich, velvety goodness, your fingers intertwined around the warm mugs, your laughter mingling with the soft melodies playing in the background.

Laughter, conversation and Christmas movies were playing in the background, making the winter time just so much sweeter. Everyone had their own life, but they came to this café, on this day, just to warm up and drink something warm.

The way Charles cared for you, from warming your hands to just being there, made the winter seem a little less frosty and a lot more magical. His affectionate nature made every moment together feel like a warm embrace on a cold winter's day.

As the both of you bid adieu to the charming café, Charles wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close. He enveloped, his girlfriend, in a hug, his warmth spreading through you, making you forget the cold entirely.

With a gentle kiss on your forehead, he whispered,

"I'll always keep you warm, my love."

And at that moment, surrounded by the winter's chill, you knew that with Charles by your side, your heart would forever be aglow with the warmth of his love. The warmth you would never want to miss ever again.

[cvpiddszn]

𝐫𝐮𝐝𝐨𝐥𝐩𝐡 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 | 𝐥.𝐡𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐞𝐬

a/n: not edited, i'm too lazy. maybe ill go back later

summary: nyx asks luke to go on a walk with her to search for a christmas tree and when they get back she begins to notice how bright red luke’s nose is. nyx can’t help but laugh at how adorable he is, her own little rudolph.

warnings: tooth rotting fluff, sexual innuedos

word count: 0.9k

nyx & luke masterlist

"What do you think about this one, Lukey?” I pointed out, my boyfriend silent from behind me. His hand clutched onto mine, squeezing every once in a while. So at least I knew that he wasn’t dead from the cold. Although, I did warn him that there was a cool breeze blowing in.

When I turned around, Luke had his free hand pulled up to his mouth breathing warm air onto his hand and shoving it in his jacket pocket. My brows furrowed, “I told you to bring mitts, and you refused to listen to me.” I scolded, taking my gloves off and handing them to him.

Luke groaned in protest, “Angel, no. I don’t want your gloves. You keep them.” His hand pushed away the gloves offered in my hands, I sighed rolling my eyes before pulling them onto my hands, while he leaned down to kiss my cheek. I shivered at the chill of his lips.

“Fine, but it might help if you put them in my pockets, they’re warmer than yours,” I argued, grabbing onto his hands and turning around before stuffing his hands into my pockets. My boyfriend was leaned down quite a bit just to rest his body against my back, stuffing his head into the open spot between my neck and shoulder. His long legs dragged behind me, sort of like a penguin.

I could smell his cologne which made my heart practically melt, the same expensive shit that he always bought. I had some strange obsession with Luke and his expensive cologne. Maybe it was the fact that he had never changed it since we were fifteen. He had never been so happy to be able to tell me that his parents bought his first expensive cologne and he hadn't changed it since.

We continued to walk through the trees until I settled on one that seemed to catch my eye. I stopped abruptly, causing Luke to stumble into my body but his hold was enough to keep me upright. I eyed the tree curiously, waiting to see if it was going to speak to me.

“Babe, you know that you look fucking crazy looking at that tree as if it’s going to grow legs and start walking and spill all of its secrets.” The brunette pointed out, and I swung my hand back to slap his shoulder gently.

“Luke, don’t be a Grinch. You don’t pick out the tree, the tree picks you.” I spoke, causing Luke to laugh at me. I grinned back at him for a moment before he caught me off guard, pressing his cold lips to mine. His left hand removed itself from my jacket, spinning me around to face him fully, both his hands coming up to my cheeks.

I pulled back from me, breathless and cheeks aflame. “So this is the tree?” I looked up at my boyfriend who grinned at me as if he didn’t just take my breath away. It was insane to so many when I told them that Luke was such a romantic, but he just didn’t like public displays of romance. Sure, his hand always found mine, rubbing small circles or his arm around my shoulders or waist but that was as far as we would go in front of others, but now it was just us and millions of pine trees.

“Whatever you want, angel.” He replied, kissing my cheek before grabbing onto my glove-covered hands and pulling me to one of the employees. My mind spaced out as I watched him admirably, feeling his hands squeezing mine every so often. As if it was a reminder than he knew that I was there.

My stomach filled with butterflies as I couldn’t help the smile on my face. As soon as the employee left to grab the tree, his brows furrowed in confusion as he studied me. “What are you grinning at?”

“You,” I replied immediately.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Luke and I were cuddled on the couch, a blanket covering the both of us. Hot chocolate in our hands, warming them through the mug. It would be a surprise if neither of us caught a cold by the end of the week. 

My boyfriend set his warm drink down, and it wasn’t until that moment that I truly looked at him. I nearly burst out laughing seeing his rosy cheeks but even better was his bright red nose. Instead of laughing, I settled for a smile but Luke paused, narrowing his eyes at me accusingly.

“Why are you giving me that look?” His hand reached under the blanket placing themselves under his sweater that I wore. I shivered at the chill that went down my spine.

“Baby,” I spoke softly, bringing my finger up to poke at his nose, “you look like Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer.” I teased quietly, finding it adorable that his nose was so red. I placed my hands on either side of his face, and he enjoyed the heat of it, eyes closing as he chased the warmth from my fingers. My thumbs rubbed soothingly at his face, hoping to warm him up. 

Luke groaned, diving his body into mine before his head sunk between my shoulder and neck, dragging his nose from side to side of my neck as I shivered. “Lukey, you’re so cold,” I mumbled as his hands gripped onto my bare waist, his hands freezing.

“Just trying to warm up, angel.” He said softly lips pressing at the side of my neck affectionately. “Stay nice and still, have the perfect way to warm up.” Chills covered my body from head to toe, his hands travelled right to my stomach creating patterns as my breath caught in my throat.

His hand lightly pushed against my leggings, pulling them forward to create space as his cold hands travelled further and further down, right to my throbbing heat and right before he dove in, his mouth crashed against mine, silencing any future pleas and moans.

Luke might be cold but I would always be his warmth.

[delulufortoji]

HOW MANY TIMES? - toji fushiguro

pairing: toji x fem!reader

summary: you and toji have been together for over a year, but every time you say you love him, he never seems to be able to say it back…

word count: ~3k

content: 18+, modern au, established relationship, oral, overstim

notes: i was sick, tired, suffering from jjk brain rot, and it was like 1 in the morning when i wrote this so it might seem like some straight bullshit 😅 and this is like the first jjk fic i’ve ever written, so yeahhh

You still remember the night you two met, the memory ingrained clearly in your mind: it was a stormy afternoon, nature raging outside with branches scratching against your windows and leaves beating on the glass. The sky above darkened, the warm drizzle mixed with the humid breeze. Gray clouds drifted overhead, bringing a sudden chilling wind and shower with them, causing water to flow down the pathways and pool into puddles. The air itself carried an earthy scent, and the wilting leaves from the trees gracefully descended to join the wet ground. The soothing sound of rain trickling down the window added to the enchantment of the moment.

And then, there he was, behind your door, a strikingly toned and towering figure, utterly drenched, his hair clinging to his face, hands tucked in the pockets of his pants, and a subtle, intriguing smile playing on his lips. “Hey, can I stay here for a couple of days until the storm blows over? I ain’t got anywhere else to go.” He asked, his voice low and laced with a hint of vulnerability.

You could feel your jaw drop, your cheeks flushed with a mixture of shyness and amazement. This man…he was undeniably handsome—his bold and quiet confidence, his voice, his charming smile, all of it made your heart throb. “S—Sure…” you muttered, “ you can stay here.”

“There’s no need to be shy,” he chuckled, “I’ll be gone and outta your hair in a couple of days.”

The blush in your cheeks deepened. “Yeah, okay,” you replied shyly, avoiding his icy gaze, “go sit by the heater to warm yourself up. I’ll go get you a towel so you can shower.”

“Alright, then.” The man said with a sly grin.

You don’t quite recall how, but somehow “warming up” took on a different meaning than intended: you soon found yourself entangled with him, your body sweating underneath his touch, his hips meeting yours in monstrous thrusts. The room resonated with the sounds of your moans and his grunts, the intensity of the moment overwhelming both of you.

“F—Fuck Toji…slow down…” you gasped amidst the pleasure.

“Shh,” he whispered, silencing you by plunging his digits into your mouth, “the only sound I wanna hear is the sound of your pussy purring.” Toji's pace intensified, his grip on your hips growing more possessive. You couldn't contain your ecstasy, climaxing as fire surged through your body. His thrusts grew erratic, and his breath quickened in tandem with your movements.

On a high of both pleasure and euphoria, you did as Toji said—you let your pussy talk for you, breathlessly blurting out: “I love you, Toji.

“...Heh, do ya really?” A response less than what you expected. But the wave of pleasure that coursed through your body was too much for you to inject, to express your dissatisfaction at his answer.

As the days turned into weeks, and weeks into months, Toji's presence became a permanent fixture in your life. He moved in, sharing the burdens of rent and groceries with a part-time job, allowing you to take more breaks. Yet, amidst this peaceful coexistence, there remained a lingering issue—those three words you so desperately wanted to hear repeated. Each time you uttered "I love you," Toji's response fell short, often met with laughter or a casual "Okay," leaving your heart yearning for the affirmation you craved.

You glance at him now from where you are: in the dimly lit room he sits, his eyes stuck on the dull glow of the phone in his hand. On instinct, you make your way over to Toji, settling into his lap, your fingers delicately toying with the fine ends of his hair.

A soft chuckle escapes his lips as he meets your gaze, curiosity dancing in his eyes. “What’s wrong, doll?”

You offer no answer, instead, you continue to run your fingers through the strands, captivated by the finely sculpted features of the man before you: his features seem meticulously crafted, each detail carefully considered in the making of Toji’s face, from the angular lines of his cheekbones to the gentle slope of his chiseled jawline. His pale, pink lips curve perpetually in a sly smirk, and his dark eyes hold an untamed intensity that ensnares your attention. You can’t help but be enamored, can’t resist the urge to confess, "I love you."

Another light laugh escapes his lips. "I know."

A heavy silence envelops you, leaving you taken aback by his lackluster response. Toji, still engrossed in his phone, finally asks, "Is there a problem?”

You can't help but press further, frustration building. “How many times do I have to say it before you say it back?”

"Say what back?"

You scoff. "You know what I meant." A hint of frustration colors your tone as you shift in his lap, turning away from him.

Toji pauses for a moment, carefully considering his words. "Baby, you know how I feel about you," he eventually concedes, though it seems more like a half-hearted attempt to soothe your emotions.

He doesn’t mean to be disingenuous, doesn’t mean to hurt you with his lack of a response. You know him well enough to know he isn’t one to verbally express how he feels, nor is he one to blurt “I love you’s”, but part of you had hoped that would change after a year of being together.

A frown etches itself into your features as you stand up, turning to the door. "You don't mean that."

“Where are you going?" He calls after you, a slight layer of concern evident in his voice.

"To sleep."

Determined not to let you go, Toji follows you into the room, pulling you closer by your waist. “C’mon baby. You know I ain’t mean to make you mad.”

“But you did.”

“I’m sorry, baby,” he croons, resting his forehead on the nape of your neck, pressing light kisses to your skin. “My bad.” He turns you around so that you’re facing him, arms crossed.

“What do you want?” You ask.

A slight smirk plays on Toji’s lips as he inches closer—by now, you two are stuck in an intimate proximity, his breath tickling your face. Just being this close to you is enough temptation for him to pull you into a deep, passionate kiss, his rough hands cradling your face. “Let me make it up to you.” He whispers, his warm breath mingling with yours.

His lips curve into a smile on yours as he presses you down onto the bed. Toji positions himself between your thighs, his lips never leaving yours, not even for a second. His touch ignites a passionate fire as he explores your body, his tongue tracing a scorching path from your lips, down your neck, and further, leaving you breathless with desire.

“Toji…keep going…” As your pleasure mounts, you can't help but moan his name, encouraging him further. His hands explore your inner thighs, spreading his warmth, his kisses become more insistent. His tongue moves lazily down your panties, the subtle friction from the stubble on his chin heightening the sensations. Your breath quickens, and your thighs quiver as he slowly slides his thumb over the moist fabric of your underwear before deftly moving it aside.

Toji's breath, hot and tantalizing, teases your sensitive flesh, his lips hovering mere inches from your core. His eyes, heavy with desire, meet yours for a fleeting moment, and a mischievous smirk tugs at his lips. "Still shy, even after all this time?" he teases, his voice a low, seductive rumble. "C'mon, girl, put it on me."

“Stop talking,” You say, dropping yourself down his face, wrapping your legs around his neck, “just make this quick.”

“I’ll make it anything but.” His response is a wicked promise in itself. You barely manage to hold back a whimper when Toji dives into his task, latching his mouth onto your pussy, his tongue exploring every inch of your pulsating walls.

“Toji…” you moan, gripping his hair, pushing his head further down.

You lose yourself to the sensation, clenching from the pace of his tongue. Your hips begin to move on sheer instinct, riding his face—your fingers are tangled up in his hair, your fists tugging on his soft locks. You’re grinding on him, your body craving every sensation, every touch, every flick of his skilled tongue, and twitching every time something grazes your folds—Toji is so damn ruthless with his tongue that it has you feeling high, like you’re on cloud nine. His every touch, no matter how brief, drives you to the brink, leaving you in a blissful state of disarray.

“To–Toji…more…” Toji’s nose-deep now, the tip of it rubbing against your sensitive clit. He brings his head up, taking a moment to breathe. He’s gasping for air, his face is slick with your essence. He swallows and then after a couple of seconds, he goes right back to sucking.

He’d almost forgotten how good you tasted—a few minutes was enough to get him hooked on you all over again, getting hard at the sound of your whines echoing through the room. His tongue is running laps like a track star, only gaining in speed with each moan you emit. Each gasp, each whimper only pushes him closer to the brink of his desire.

He needed more of your moans, more of your sweet taste, more of you—he had lost himself in his cravings, only desperate for you. His strong hands trace your inner thigh, savoring the taste as he lavishes your pussy with his saliva, worshiping your wetness with his mouth. He laps at your cunt like a starved man–like the taste of you is all the nutrition he needs.

“I’m—I’m gonna…” you gasp, but he ignores you and just keeps going, his tongue working your clit, just the way you like it. He let his eyes close in ecstasy, feeling you as your hips bucked up into his mouth, groaning at the sensation. “Toji, please…” you whimpered, your need reaching its peak. He’s still going, making you wait until he’s finished eating, until you’re a fucking mess—until you’re quivering, reduced to incoherent pleas just to come. After a couple more minutes of teasing you, of edging you, he finally grants you the release you crave. As he lifts his mouth from your pulsing core, you can only grip his hair tighter, gasping his name until you can finally come down from the intense high.

He slides his mouth up to your lips, his mouth smooth and buttery on yours—the sheer thought of tasting yourself on his tongue right after he had just eaten you out was disgusting, but you can’t be bothered when Toji feels this good.

He stares at you, a grin playing on his lips. “You forgive me now?” he asks, a glint of mischief in his eyes.

You shake your head, huffing out the words: “Sh–shut up, Toji.”

He looks at you with a cocky smirk, his hair matted to his face, his breathing heavy, but his dark blue eyes, normally cold and distant, are now aflame with longing and desire—he said without words what he rarely admitted with him.

“Open wide.” He says, his voice a low, sultry rumble.

You take off your shirt and lie down on your back, legs spread out—you look so fucking hot for him, sprawled out like this, your pussy soaking wet and on full display. You’re an irresistible vision of his desire, every curve of your form a masterpiece in his eyes. God, he can almost feel himself stretching you out and you clenching, tightening around him, and he’s not even inside you yet.

He can’t bear to wait any longer, can’t bear to hold it in—he’s throbbing, desperate to plunge into you, to be buried deep within your warmth. He needs to be balls deep inside of you, right fucking now. Toji brings out his cock with a groan, and god, is he full and aching to be inside you—only you could ever get him this hard.

He pulls your hips closer to him, dick poised at your entrance. “C’mon girl,” he says with a slight grunt, a hint of impatience in his voice. That’s when he slowly begins his descent into you, inch by inch—he’s not even fully in, but his tip alone is enough to steal a small gasp from your lips.

You stare at him and whimper, feeling him as he forces himself deeper. He is so big—his thick, rigid shaft glides within your velvety folds, leaving you trembling and powerless to resist. You bite your lower lip to stifle your cries, completely lost in the waves of lust that crash over you. “To…Toji…” You’re already babbling as he buries himself balls deep into you. Toji’s hips slap against yours once—a single thrust already has you moaning, salivating at the sensation, arms wrapped around his neck.

With your hand pinned above your head, fingers interlocked with his, Toji rocks into you with an intensity that borders on primal. His forehead is nestled in the crook of your neck, his ragged and hot breath caressing your soft skin, his free hand claiming every inch of your skin as his own. He’s pistoning his hips with a purpose, stretching you open with each thrust, the physical sensation and the raw intimacy between you both like a potent drug. Toji focuses on the tight heat of your walls around his cock, the way your hips meet his rhythm, the delicious way you clench around him as his dick stretches your pussy out. It should be illegal how good you feel to him right now.

“Fuck, you feel so good.” Toji murmurs in your ear, his voice a husky, sensuous melody that rings through the room. “Keep doin’ what you’re doin’.”

His words are so provocative, so disgusting, yet so fucking hot—they make you want to continue, to keep teasing him with the way you feel to the point where his cock is twitching, throbbing inside of your wet heat, to the point where he can’t thrust into you anymore.

“M-More.” Your whining intensified—his movements are becoming sloppier, his thrusts beginning to lose their pattern as he loses himself in the melody of your cries and the intoxicating sensations you provide. His tip is just attacking your sweet spot, stealing those beautiful noises out from your mouth. Toji can’t focus anymore, can’t maintain his rhythm—you’re just too damn loud for him to think about anything else but you: the way your lips part each time you moan, the way your nails dig into the muscles on his back, the way you writhe under him.

The pace of his hips quicken, the beautifully lewd sound of his balls slapping against your ass and your moans filling the room. “Fuuuckkk—” Toji grunts. Just one round with you has him in disarray—his black strands are a mess, drenched with sweat, his ruffled hair obscuring his vision with how it fell over his eyes. But even in this fevered state, he’s fucking you like there’s no tomorrow, his relentless thrusts making your throbbing core scream for more.

“Toji…Toji…” His dick throbs each time his name falls from your beautiful lips in breathy cries, saliva dripping from the corners of your mouth. His lips find yours in fervent kisses, his navy blue eyes locked onto yours as his hips meet yours with increasing urgency.

He’s so damn rough with you, but he can’t help it, especially when you feel like a slice of heaven—he’s ruthlessly fucking you into the bed, grunts escaping his mouth every time he does so. You’re stuck in a passionate trance, each strike to your core, vigorous and accurate—fuck, it’s got your throbbing pussy yearning out for more.

“Goddamn, Toji—” You stammer, rendered incapable of finishing your sentence, shuddering with the hypnotizing movement of Toji’s hips, with the intoxicating feel of him inside of his body. His thick cock is being engulfed by your sheer warmth, each pulse only stretching you out more. “S–so good.”

Toji grumbles, and you whimper as his base repeatedly strikes you, his every thrust taking you deeper. You're lost in the heady pleasure, your core gripping him tightly, refusing to let go, making him push harder and faster.

The repeated sound of his skin slapping against yours becomes a relentless symphony of pleasure: slap, slap, slap. He’s losing himself even more, completely drunk off of you—he just can’t help himself. You’re like a drug. And fuck, did you look pretty beneath him, giving him the most spectacular view of your body. Tits on full display, your eyes rolling back each time he hits your sweet spot. He can’t help but breathe heavily when he looks down at you naked under him. Bites and hickeys cover your flawless skin, and shit, did the sight of those marks drive Toji wild.

Toji’s brows furrow together, and the pace of his hips begins to slow for a brief moment. He chuckles softly and brushes a strand of hair from your eyes, his voice carrying an unexpected tenderness. “Hey–I love ya. I really do. Our feelings are mutual.” It’s not the confession you were hoping for, but still, it was his own unique way of confirming what you had been longing to hear—his own way of confirming that he had never felt for anyone the way he felt for you.

With a contented sigh, he releases a thick load, and you feel it deep within you, your inner walls stretching to accommodate his passion. You laugh lightly and pull him closer, your eyes rolling to the back of your head and your nails digging themselves deeper into Toji’s back. "F–faster, Toji... k–keep going..."

“So needy.” He obliges, pounding his cum deeper into you. He sighs gently, his lips curling up into a smile against the curve between your neck and shoulder. “Anything for ya, baby.”

[eyesofbong]

Red Spider Lily ꕥ

art cred. @taak_CHOI on twitter/x

❀ pairing. Chrollo Lucilfer x Founding!Spider Reader

❁ warning. mention of death. Just pure angst ♡

✿ word count. 1.5k

✽ sypnosis. unrequited love, is still love isn't it just as beautiful?

A/N: This piece was inspired by the random red spider lily I found this morning, blooming in the middle of my yard right on time for September—its season. It was particularly strange since I’ve never had one grow before. (My dog tried to eat it.) Also, the chain I’ve had since I was a child randomly broke a couple of nights ago after being indestructible for years! I’m taking it all as a sign. side eye...

The crimson flowers danced in the wind, their delicate petals reaching out, as if grasping for something lost in the void. Red spider lilies—each bloom a splash of scarlet against the gray, lifeless earth. They thrived here, in this forsaken field, where death had long claimed dominion. You stood among them, feeling the chill of the breeze slip through the narrow spaces between the petals, carrying with it the faint, sweet scent of decay—a cruel reminder that beauty and death often walked hand in hand, inseparable, like lovers bound by some twisted fate.

For a long moment, there was only the wind and the rustle of flowers. You didn’t notice him at first. Not until his voice, soft as a whisper, cut through the silence, slicing into your thoughts like a blade you hadn’t seen coming.

“They say these flowers bloom along the Sanzu River,” Chrollo murmured, each word caressing the air like a secret. “Guiding souls to their next life. A fitting backdrop, don’t you think?”

You turned slowly, as if moving through water, your heart stumbling in your chest. And there he was—Chrollo, standing at the edge of the field. His dark cloak fluttered slightly in the wind, like a shadow with its own life. He looked almost like one of the flowers, swaying in the breeze, a figure easily lost among the shifting light and shadows. He gazed intently at the sea of red, a faint smile playing on his lips, yet it never reached his eyes. Eyes dark and deep, like an abyss that promised to swallow you whole.

His expression was unreadable and distant, as if he were looking at something far away, something only he could see.

“I always thought their beauty was wasted on something so fleeting as death,” he continued, his gaze never wavering. “But maybe that’s why they’re so beautiful... because they don’t try to hold on.”

Your breath hitched in your throat. His words hung in the air, heavy with meaning, yet they left you feeling hollow, like an echo of something you couldn’t quite grasp. There was a time when you knew that face so well, when every subtle shift in his expression, every flicker in his eyes, told you more than words ever could. But now, that face was a stranger’s—a mask you could no longer read, a portrait painted with shadows and cold light.

You longed for the warmth you once saw there, the softness that had made you believe in things you knew were impossible. His mind, once an open book, had become a locked room, the key stolen, leaving you stranded on the outside.

He stepped closer, and you felt the air shift around you, charged with something you couldn’t name. Your body tensed, muscles tightening as if preparing for a blow that never came. His fingers brushed against yours, so lightly it might have been a dream, as he handed you a single red spider lily. The touch sent a shiver down your spine, an electric jolt that numbed the ache you carried inside—the yearning you kept hidden, even from yourself.

The flower trembled in your hands, and you held it as if it were made of glass, fragile enough to shatter at the slightest pressure. It felt like a lifeline, a thread binding you to this world, to him. To everything you had ever wanted but knew you could never have. Because this was love to you. A quiet, desperate love with no place in words. A love that thrived in shadows, in stolen glances, in moments when his hand brushed yours and sent your heart racing.

You were content to hide it, to bury it deep where he would never see, because you knew he didn’t need to know. You’d rather pretend. Pretend that this was enough—that his presence, his breath mingling with yours in the cold night air, was all you needed.

You looked down at the flower in your hand. It was small and fragile, its petals a deep, crimson red, like drops of blood on bone. It was nothing compared to the treasures you had stolen for him, the riches you had laid at his feet, hoping for a smile, a word, a touch. And yet, it was everything. This single, fleeting gesture—a flower plucked from the earth, handed to you without thought or care—was worth more than anything. The fact that he had given it to you, even with such a cold, detached expression, made your heart flutter like the wings of a dying bird.

Your leader had given you a flower. You could survive on that alone, on the knowledge that, for one brief moment, he had seen you and thought of you.

This was love to you, and you were content with it. Hiding your heart from him because you didn’t need to tell him. You’d rather pretend. Because your love was different—silent, enduring, untouched by the light of day. A love that thrived in quiet spaces, where hope and heartache intertwined like the roots of a tree. You would rather pretend, because its purity was its own reward. It wasn’t about wanting something in return. You knew he would never love you back—not in the way you loved him. And that was fine. You had accepted it long ago.

Your love was about loving him so deeply that you were willing to feel everything, even the pain of knowing he would never feel the same. You had become accustomed to that pain; it had become part of you, a constant companion, a reminder that you were alive, that you could love, even if that love would never be returned.

Your love had survived against all odds, even after he had led the massacre of the Kurta. It was a love that filled the spaces between words left unsaid, in looks that lingered too long, in the silent longing that never truly faded. He had always been out of reach, even when you were children. Always slipping through your fingers like smoke, like a dream you couldn’t quite hold onto.

Perhaps that’s why you clung to him so tightly, why you adopted his ideas as your own, why you never questioned his decisions. You would do anything for him. Anything, if it meant you could stay by his side just a little longer, even if that light were cold and indifferent.

Your love was both a gift and a burden, a testament to the heart’s ability to love fiercely without the promise of anything in return. Pakunoda had seen it—the way your love consumed you, the way it burned like a slow, smoldering fire that refused to go out.

“Can you make these feelings go away?” You had whispered to her once, hiding your face in her shoulder, her arms the only sanctuary you knew. “Can you make it stop?”

The sharp pain of the chain cutting into your heart brought you back to the present, tearing you away from that memory. Blood warmed your lips, pooling at the corners of your mouth, and the world around you blurred into a mess of color and sound. You clung to the lily he had given you, cradling it close even as the chains tightened around you, threatening to crush it in your grasp.

You didn’t blame Chrollo. Not for your pain, not for your death. These were choices you had made willingly, with your eyes open and your heart laid bare. You would make them again, a thousand times over, if it meant you could have this—a flower, a moment, a breath in his presence.

The chain user was gone, and you felt the presence of the other Troupe members drawing nearer, their shouts growing fainter in your ears, echoes from a place you could no longer reach. You had seen all the signs. You had known. But still, you had chosen to believe. To pretend. Because it was easier than facing the truth.

Your vision blurred, but you felt him there, his arms around you, holding you close. For a moment, your heart surged with hope—a foolish hope that maybe, just maybe, he cared. That maybe, this time, he would say something—anything to make the pain go away.

Your fingers tightened around the withering red spider lily, its petals soft and fragile against your skin. Through blurry vision, your eyes searched his face, desperate for a sign. But all you found was the same unreadable mask, the same cold distance. The silence between you was suffocating, more painful than any wound.

In that silence, you finally understood—he would never love you the way you loved him. You were just another piece on his board, another pawn in his game.

“But maybe that’s why they’re so beautiful... because they don’t try to hold on.”

Your grip weakened, and the flower slipped from your fingers, its petals scattering like the remnants of your heart.

So, you let go. Not just of the flower, but of the love that had been your constant torment. You released it into the wind, into the void between you, accepting the truth you had fought so hard to deny.

Maybe, as you crossed the Sanzu River, you would see the cities he burned—for you.

© eyesofbong / Do not plagiarize my work. If you see this content on any account that is not mine, please report it.

[godidontevenknowwhat]

I've got you

MK1!Liu Kang x Reader

A/N: I only got into MK super recently and I've only played MK1 and MK11 so I apologise for what is probably shitty characterisation idk I just really like Liu Kang okay also I didn't reread before posting sorry

Synopsis: You've felt drawn to Lord Liu Kang since you first met him, he's unlike anyone you've ever met even beyond his abilities. You spend a lot of time watching the man you've become so fond of, seeing how kind and gentle he is, how fierce he is when he needs to be. You've seen the look he gets in his when he looks at earthrealm's champions, when he looks at you.. a sort of melancholy look of longing. During one of your routine tea nights you plan to express your feelings to him.

Fic Includes: NSFW so MDNI, nothing particularly intense this is a lot of ✨romance✨, mentions of relationship between Liu Kang and Reader in MK11 timeline but mostly hinted, p in v, some mention of tears on both parts but it's okay because you've got each other 💕 my writing abilities so watch out, possibly ooc Liu Kang idk I made him a little sad , 2.7k

The subtle aroma of freshly brewed tea fills the air as you carefully pour the steaming beverage from Liu Kang’s beautiful decorative teapot into the matching cups. The man himself is busy behind you, you can hear him filling the firepit in the middle of the main room in the fire temple with fresh wood and you can’t help but turn to watch as he ignites the fire with his powers.

With his back to you, you take the time to look him over. His strong body and broad shoulders, his long inky black hair, the fire dancing along the skin of his tattooed forearms as he sets fire to the tinder in the firepit. 

You find yourself admiring the god of fire more often than not, watching the way he moves and interacts with those around him. The way he treats others is something to be admired surely, every person he speaks to is treated like a precious being and you suppose that might be what comes from living for so long and witnessing so many lives pass by him. A profound love for the human existence that he shows through his every action. 

Sometimes there’s something in his eyes though, something forlorn and melancholy that only appears when he looks at earthrealm’s champions or even when he looks at you. It’s like something takes over him, like for a moment he’s not himself.

You take note of his tense shoulders and when he finally turns to face you there’s a furrow in his brow, he looks like the weight of the world is on his shoulders and you have no doubt in your mind that if he was in a situation where he had to, he would try and take that weight.

“Ah, the tea is ready” Liu Kang takes a seat beside him, picking up his cup and blowing on the tea. He sends you a sweet smile over the rim that melts your heart and reminds you of what you wanted to talk to him about during your teatime together. “Thank you”

He sips his tea but you can’t help but notice that there’s no relief from the calming brew. The furrow between his brow disappeared when he looked at you but the tense coil of his body was still wound tight. 

The chill of the evening air contrasts with the heat from the fire warming your back and the soothing burn of the tea coating your tongue as you think about what to say. Is it enough to ask a god ‘are you okay?’? Would that question seem juvenile to someone like him?

“Liu Kang?” He hums a soft sound of acknowledgment, encouraging you to continue. “I just want to ask.. are you feeling alright? You seem to have a lot on your mind..”

You watch as he thinks your words over, 100 emotions and micro expressions flying over his face as he struggles with how to answer your question. He looks in your direction, almost looking through you as you wait for his reply. 

“Do not waste your time filling your head with my problems, there is no need” The smile that he sends you is soft, subtle and yet it doesn’t quite reach his eyes as he continues “I would rather keep my burdens to myself instead of weighing you down with them”

“That..” It takes you a second to gather your thoughts as you look at the man in front of you. Eons of life and wisdom. Was he protecting himself by not opening up fully? Surely he’d had friends in his lifetime, ‘had’ being the optimal word. Was he protecting you? Maybe his problems were truly more than you could handle. 

Again you look him over as he sips his tea, the gentle breeze flowing through his long hair and the glow of the fire highlighting his features creating an image so beautiful that it makes your heart hammer in your chest.

“That sounds.. incredibly lonely Lord Liu Kang..”

You watch the fire god lower his cup, a subtle tremor in his hand that makes your heart clench with guilt and your own hand reach out for him.

His glowing eyes drift to your gentle hand on his own and you notice the tension leaving his shoulders with every second he feels your touch.

“I worry what you would think of me if I told you the truth..” His head bows slightly, eyes drifting shut as if he’s scared to look you in yours.

“Nothing you could tell me would make me think of you any differently Liu Kang..” Your voice is soft, quiet and barely louder than the crackle of the fire. Taking a chance you reach for his face with your free hand, his cheek laying so delicately into your palm as if drawn to it with magnetic force. “Because.. I like you very much, just as you are”

Liu Kang takes a shuddering inhale and when he opens his glowing eyes again there’s a thin veil of tears glossing them over. He looks you over like it's the last time, like he’s trying to memorise every detail of your entire being and you have no idea how true it is. How much Liu Kang has waited for you, wanted for you. How many eons he has spent dreaming of you and how terrified he was when he met the ‘new’ you that you’d yearn for another the way he has always yearned for you.

Fearing that his silence is a kind rejection you begin to turn your head to avoid the gaze of his glowing eyes only to be stopped by the feeling of his large, warm palm catching your cheek to hold you in place. 

Before you can think he pushes forward and his plush lips press against yours. It’s embarrassing how quickly you melt into him, your mind going blank at the feeling of being kissed by a God. By Liu Kang. 

Every movement of his gentle lips against yours and every soft, timid caress of his tongue only serves to hypnotise you further. Reaching out for something to grip onto and support you, you end up with a fistful of Liu Kang’s tantalisingly unbuttoned shirt. Your fingers barely brush against the warm skin of his chest but it's enough to make the God's breathing catch and force him to break away from your passionate kiss.

“I apologise.. I shouldn’t have-”

Liu Kang's words die in his throat as you move your gentle palm to the centre of his exposed chest, you can feel his heart racing under your touch. You have so much you want to say, your mind going a million miles per second trying to figure out how any words are good enough to express how you feel for him.

“The only thing you need to apologise for.. is stopping..”

The combination of your teasing words, sweet smile and the feeling of your soft skin against the heated skin of his chest feels so familiar to him. He feels silly for the tears in his eyes, ashamed of the way one escapes and rolls down his cheek when he realises that he really has you, that he doesn’t have to wait any longer and that you really want him in this timeline just as you did in the last.

A smile spreads across his face, one that reaches his eyes this time and softens them so beautifully. He looks younger like this, less troubled by being protector of earthrealm and, unbeknownst to the version of you that now sits before him, the soft smile on his face is the exact one he gave you so many eons before this very moment. The smile of the man that loved you, lost you, feared he would never have you again and now finally knows he will.

Liu Kang smashes his lips to yours in a kiss so impassioned it makes your head spin, expressing everything he can through his kiss. The way his tongue licks into your mouth makes your skin burn hot enough to rival his own and you worry for a moment that the rapid beating of your heart may be loud enough for him to hear.

Gripping onto you like you’re his lifeline, Liu Kang pulls you closer until you settle on his lap as he kisses you passionately enough to make your head spin. You’re delighted to feel the pressure of his grip on you, his fingertips hungrily digging into your soft flesh keeping you exactly where he wants you.

His warm palms caress you, slowly sliding to the fat of your thighs just to encourage you in wrapping your legs around him as he lays you back. Liu Kang settles between your legs, finally pulling from your lips just to press his own against the sensitive skin of your throat. 

You barely register Liu Kang’s gentle voice speaking to you; distracted by the feeling of his lips against your skin, his hands working to remove your clothing and the weight of his impressive, hard cock pressing against you through far too many layers for either of your likings.

An embarrassing whine slips from you uncontrollably as you feel him break contact with you to remove his shirt and, despite your disappointment at the fact his hands and lips are no longer on you, you’re granted the unreal view of tattoos and muscular upper body in all its glory. 

Your hands meet his exposed skin like they’re drawn to it by magnets, fingers exploring the bare expanses of his chest and abs that are always just so teasingly visible with how he regularly wears his shirt.

Large, warm hands circle your wrists to pause your caressing hands and your eyes dart up to meet Liu Kang’s. 

“Tell me.. you want to be with me” Sensing your confusion he gently squeezes your wrists and closes his eyes to hide how they pool with vulnerability. “I need to hear it.. please”

With the final word barely a whisper from his lips you pull free from his grip and embrace the man, the god, in front of you. 

“I want you Liu Kang, I want to be with you”

You press your lips to his cheek.

“I want to be with you in every way I can be”

Emboldened by your words, his hands grip you once again and he wastes no time in baring the both of your bodies to each other between passionate, breathtaking kisses.

Laid on your back once more, your legs lock around Liu Kang’s waist to selfishly pull his hips closer. The feeling of his bare cock brushing against your soaked cunt causing a desperate whine to escape from your throat.

Supporting himself with one arm to hold himself over you he uses his free hand position himself, briefly running the head of his thick cock through your slick and bumping it against your clit before slowly pressing into you.

The moan Liu Kang lets out is sinful, a deep, rich sound that you wish you could hear on repeat for the rest of your days and the flushed expression on his face as he finally sinks the full length of his dick into your pussy is so beautiful you think for a moment that you truly understand what it means to ‘see God’.

“Forgive my impatience.. but believe me when I say I have waited longer than you know to have you like this”

He really did want to take his time with you, feel your pretty pussy clench and gush around his fingers, feel your clit pulse under his tongue as he spends hours between your legs, spend as much time as possible making you fall apart in the best way imaginable but the idea of waiting another second without being as close to you as he possibly could be is pure torture.

Your moans are loud and so unbearably pretty as Liu Kang begins with a few experimental thrusts, the sound of your sweet voice and the wet slap of each slow thrust driving you both further into a lust filled haze. He knows he should wait longer before ramping up the pace and force of his thrusts but the desperation he feels for you along with the feeling of your gentle hands knotting into his hair only encourages him into fucking you the way you both need him to.

Your head drops back into the pillows, each deep thrust sending pleasure coursing through your veins and making your brain go foggy with want. Every punch of Liu Kang’s tip against your g-spot makes your toes curl and your fingernails dig deeper into his muscular shoulders. 

Liu Kang brings you back with a gentle grip on your jaw, angling you to better look him in the eyes while he buries his cock in you. He drops closer to you, encompassing you with his body and pressing his thick cock so deeply it makes you see stars. His heat surrounds you, long hair tickling your face as he presses his forehead to your own. 

There's a burning love in his eyes as he takes in your fucked out expression and Liu Kang thanks whatever power higher than his own that controls fate because he has you in his arms again, in his bed. He has a chance to be yours forever again, to make you his wife, make you a mother and all of the things that he spent so long wishing he had done before this time around.

All of your senses are completely overtaken by him, your mind blank to the world and the only intelligible thing leaving your mouth being the God of fire’s name.

Gentle fingers meet your puffy, sensitive clit and every circle combined with perfectly aimed hits to your g-spot brings you dangerously close to the edge. The pleasure is overwhelming, almost bringing tears to your eyes and forcing you into a pleading babble that only serves to make Liu Kang fuck you with even more purpose.

“I c-can’t!” 

The speed of his fingers on your clit picks up as the clench of your needy cunt draws borderline whines from the god of fire amid his pleasure filled grunts.

“You can, my love..” Your mouth opens in a silent scream, your legs tighten around his waist to the point that he’s reduced to barely thrusting at all but instead grinding his hips into yours giving you an overwhelming pressure against both your clit and your g-spot. 

“You can and you will.”

A strained sob rips from your throat as the God’s words do the job of sending you over the edge. Your vision bursting with stars while your body trembles, overtaken by every jolt of pleasure your orgasm sends through your nerves.

The feeling of your pulsing cunt clenching around him even tighter with your high pushes Liu over the edge with barely enough time to pull from your heat. A gorgeous moan of your name falling from his lips as his hand moves to his cock to stroke himself and prolong his orgasm, each rope of his cum landing on your used pussy and trembling thighs.

There's a comfortable silence between you, no words spoken as he reaches for his discarded shirt to clean you up with. The only sound other than the subtle movements being the crackle of the fire and the gentle pants that you can’t quite get under control so soon.

Spare a final glance at the mess he made of you, a sort of possessiveness and pride rears its ugly head as he cleans you up as tenderly as possible with his shirt. Each pass of the cloth against your skin is done so carefully that it feels as if it barely touches you.

You watch him with a smile on your face that he can’t stop himself from returning. A lovesick, soft smile shared between lovers which remains present even as he settles himself beside you and pulls you into his comfortable embrace.

You can hear the comforting rhythm of his heart as your head rests on his warm chest, your eyes barely able to stay open as you’ve been reduced to a drowsy mess.

“Rest my love, I’ve got you” And he vowed to himself he would never let you go again. In every universe, in every timeline, he’d do everything to make sure it was you and him.

[memescomicswriting]

Okay, but here me out … modern!Aegon x reader Casual coded

I know that our Queen Miss Roan did not write this song about a man and the fandom has dubbed it one of the Rhaneyra x Alicent songs. However, as a bi I can attest that this song can apply no matter the team you bat for. It especially applies when the situationship is with someone who’s emotional attachment skills fluctuate whenever the wind blows. So Aegon.

Modern!Aegon, maybe you met in college through overlapping friend groups. He likes to party, your friends like to party. This continues past graduation.

My friends call me a loser/ 'Cause I'm still hanging around

Whether you’re still in uni or not, your friends think it’s time for you to mature and move forward from this cycle you have with Aegon. He’s not good for your health.

I've heard so many rumors/ That I'm just a girl that you bang on your couch

Your friends fill you in on what’s being said about you as a part of their reasoning.

“See how he talks about you. And you stay?”

I thought you thought of me better/ Someone you couldn't lose/ You said, "We're not together"/ So now when we kiss, I have anger issues

You confront him about what he’s been saying to his mates, but that silver tongue of his can smooth anything over. When you’re alone, he’s so sweet and you’re putty in his hands.

You said, "Baby, no attachment"/ But we're/ Knee deep in the passenger seat, and you're eating me out

Aegon’s got big Peter Pan energy. He bolts at any form of responsibility and that includes the responsibility of maintaining a relationship. He doesn’t want to grow up, his partying years to end, and to take on the role his parents have carved out for him. He’s afraid that if he commits to you it’s a sign he’s ready to commit to his future.

Is it causal now

He likes you. He wants you. Maybe as close to love as he can get. But he’s Aegon, so he keeps you at arm’s length despite demanding the intimacy.

Two weeks, and your mom invites me to her house on Long Beach

However, you’ve been around long enough that his parents do know you. They’ve seen your face enough. When he has an event that needs a date he always brings you.

I know what you tell your friends/ It's casual

It’s what he tells them when they’re high at 3am and the question comes up again. He can’t bring himself to say it’s anything more.

Then, baby, get me off again/ If it's casual, it's casual now

You always fall back into his bed. He’s addicting. You love the rush and thrill being with him gives you. You crave it despite the burn you receive every time you crash out.

Dumb love, I love being stupid/ Dream of us in a year/ Maybe we'd have an apartment/ And you'd show me off to your friends at the pier

Despite your better judgment, you still go to that delulu headspace. It’s the post orgasm high and he’s being so sweet and gentle. Maybe he’s finally changing.

I know, "Baby, no attachment"

And then his words are bringing you crashing down into the reality of it all.

Knee deep in the passenger seat, and you're eating me out/ Is it casual now?

And yet he gives you these intimate moments. They almost feel sacrosanct. And you’re thrown in the whirlwind of emotions again only to be smacked down.

It's hard being casual/ When my favorite bra lives in your dresser

You’re with him so goddamn often that his neighbors think you share the apartment.

And it's hard being casual/ When I'm on the phone talking down your sister

You’ve been at this for so long. You know him. You know Helena. She treats you as if you’re some pillar, some constant, someone who’s always been in the family.

And I try to be the chill girl/ That holds her tongue and gives you space/ I try to be the chill girl

You try so fucking hard to please him. You’re trying so goddamn hard to suppress all your desires that will scare him off. It’s like he’s given you a 4x4 dimension of space to take up in his life, but you’re a 5x5. You’re tipping over and bleeding out.

But honestly, I'm not

For some unknown reason on some random day, the scale finally tips to far. Like a spring that’s been coiled and tightened as far as it can go, you bounce back with force.

I fucked you in the bathroom when we went to dinner/ Your parents at the table, you wonder why I'm bitter

Maybe that was the moment. You’re thinking he’s finally taking this seriously if you’re having a one on one dinner with his family for no special occasion. His parents compliment his growth. You’re more than willing to comply when he drags you off to the bathroom. You think you’re both caught up in the evening. When return is when you realize it was all to antagonize his parents. You go home alone.

Bragging to your friends, I get off when you hit it/ I hate to tell the truth, but I'm sorry, dude, you didn't

You confront him the next time you see him. For the first time you actually catch him talking with his friends about you. He’s gotten bold to do it with you around. You nearly blackout while burning with rage. You’re spewing every hurtful thing you’ve ever thought while he’s dragging you into a private space.

“What the hell was that?”

I hate that I let this drag on so long, now I hate myself/ Hate that I let this drag on so long, you can go to hell

The invisible string that’s connected the two of you, he’s stretched so far that it’s finally snapped. You’re furious but you’re finally free. And you leave him. Not like any other time before, where you were meek and teary eyed. There’s no “I love you, but…” No, you’re red faced, voice hoarse, no decorum letting him have it. Everything.

You leave him a stuttering mess. Nothing left to say. Nothing to go back to. You’re broken but you’re free.

And his pain is just beginning.

[imrllytootiredforthis]

Pent up~Teaser

pairing: changbin x sexshop employee worker

summary: changbin goes to a sexshop looking for a little something to fill up his lonely nights but gets more than he initially bargained for-not that he's upset about it~

warnings: in teaser-dom reader, sub changbin, obvious praise kink, mentions of masturbation, mentions of sex toys and bdsm, needy changbin. in full fic (of what i know so far): pegging, masturbation, cumplay, exhibitionism, teasing, size kink, etc

a/n: teaser bc i feel like it-and @arlojulien-nightchild-of-hades requested no.10 in my drafts, so here it is-also for binnie's birthday!

Changbin had never been embarrassed about masturbating. 

He knew that he felt pent up from time to time from stress and work and life in general-from what little life he did have. From having to deal with Han and Chan, because while he did love them, putting up with them wasn't the easiest feat, though he'd never tell them that.

His life was busy and things were frustrating, so much so he’d have to restrain himself from doing things he’d actually regret.

Like smashing Chan’s laptop when he stopped listening to all reason, locking himself in his room for days on end without getting any sleep, food or water. His self-destructive tendencies doing shit for the group and even worse for his own mental state.

Or like shouting at Han when he was acting like a brat, stuck in his own ways, which would result in him crying every time. He'd grown a lot in the past few years but he was still stubborn as shit and too sensitive for his own good.

And as Changbin had realized, was that doing any of those things rarely ever helped the situation but only aided in getting his own frustrations out.

So he'd found that the natural way to get rid of those frustrations while also not doing something that he’d regret later on was to blow off steam in other ways. Take things into his own hands in other words. After all, a busy person such as himself wasn't about to go out and look for a good lay every so often.

Masturbating and self-pleasure wasn't unhealthy by any means, he knew that and he’d never really understood why it was such a stigmatized topic, but that was a whole conversation for another time.

The point was, he'd never felt ashamed to the fact that he needed some alone time every once in a while. 

Not until now. 

Standing in his local sex shop in front of a very large selection on the shelf, trying to decide between two sizes of dildos. He could get the bigger one or the smaller one. Money was no problem and he could buy both if he really wanted, but he'd really rather not have to figure out how to hide not one but two fake dicks in the dorms in which any of his snooping roommates could find at any time plus it felt a little excessive to have two dildos.

But it really wasn't this part that he was ashamed of. He was just dandy with the fact that he was standing here browsing the shelves of dildos, looking for one that he was going to use on himself later tonight. 

Changbin knew exactly what he was signing up for when he walked in here and he wasn't embarrassed about it at all. This wasn't his first time in a sex shop and he could honestly say that they were pretty chill for the most part.

It was his first time in this one though. He'd wanted to switch it up a little-he'd wanted to finally go to the one near his place, accepting the fact that he could potentially run into someone he knew here.

Good thing: There was no one that he knew here.

Bad thing: He couldn't help the pang in his chest, the flicker of something he wasn't quite ready to face inside him realizing that he seemed to be the only customer in the shop who was single. 

Everyone else wandering through here was with a partner. Linked arms while quietly discussing which items they wanted to purchase, stolen glances and small smiles.

Sexual tension was thick in the air in this store today. A lingering look and quick meaningful touches between everyone except for him.

The sting of jealousy he had for that guy currently standing next to him was bitter. Someone who was looking at the same collection Changbin was but he had a partner with him; who teased him, nudging at his side as she tauntingly asked which one he wanted.

He couldn’t help but feel just a bit envious that the guy blushed and his partner coo'd about how cute he looked, brushing a finger down his face before whispering something too quiet for Changbin to hear into his ear.

The fact that he was in a store full of couples looking at things to take care of each other with, while looking for things to use on himself.

Deep down, even though he tried to ignore it...it made him feel, oh what was the word? Lonely? Unwanted? Maybe just the tiniest bit pathetic-and not in the kind of way that he likes.

"If you pick one by the count of three, I'll use it on you in the car~"

He tried not to look at either of them as he grabbed the bigger of the two toys off the shelf, pushing past them and quickly making his way past them to the counter.

Fuck this place.

He dropped it on the counter without looking up.

He was going to go back to the dorms, where thankfully, for once in a blue moon all of his roommates were out. For the whole week actually, they wanted to go on a camping trip but Changbin was too busy for that. He had work, and going to the gym, and…well that was it, but it consumed a lot of time. Time he didn’t have to sleep on the hard ground on top of rocks and sticks and bugs in the forest. 

He normally liked camping and he felt bad to turn them down but he knew he needed this. A bit of alone time. There was no way he was going to give up the chance at being alone for a whole week while Chan, Hyunjin and Han were gone.

He was honestly just surprised that Hyunjin agreed to go with them.

Tonight he was going to forget all about this. About the want to be pounded by someone. A person. And not just his own hand and a toy. He was going to forget about the want to be teased and touched and loved by someone else. He was going to forget about all of that, throw on some porn and try out his new toy with the handy bottle of lube hidden in his nightstand.

"Cash or card?"

He rifles through his wallet for a few bills, "uh, cash please." he mutters, putting them in the counter as he counts, making sure he he’d taken out the right amount.

This would all be but a distant haze later tonight in his sex-addled brain. Nothing but a dream when he'd make himself cum over and over again to ensure he'd forget this.

“Don’t be rude. Look at me when you say that."

Changbin’s whole body froze, unmoving. He didn't even need look up to feel eyes burning into his skin.

"Don't make me repeat myself." He didn't know why he listened. It was just something. Something about the voice, firm in a way that he craved. Something coaxing and calming, rather than screaming at him to obey instead guiding him to it, making him want to listen.

Finally, his eyes managed to flick upward to the face the person talking to him. 

You smile pleasantly, so familiar yet unlike to the way you'd just spoken to him, in a way that makes him feel warm. You raise an eyebrow, gesturing for him to go on, the expression making his face heat up for some reason. "Good boy. And your payment?"

Wha-

What did you just say?

Did you just-?

He tries to recollect himself. Hopefully fix his jumbled thoughts before he embarrasses himself further, tries to find his voice, "I, uh..." all while you sit there, looking nothing but amused at this entire very un-amusing situation.

You hold back a laugh, eyes alight with mirth. "You paying with cash pretty boy?"

His mouth opens, then closes before he works himself up to a nod and manages to push the money across the counter to you.

What the hell was going on with him?

This time, you do laugh, throwing your head back like he had said something legitimately funny and not stumbled over his words like an idiot. 

"Sorry-sorry, I don't mean to laugh!" you don't sound very sorry, with the way that small giggles make way through the words. He can't help the way butterflies erupt in his stomach. 

You calm down and take the cash, putting it in the till, "Bag?" he still can't seem to bring himself to speak so he only nods. You notice but take effort not to start up again, putting the item into an inconspicuous bag and giving him his change. 

He pockets it, and that's it. 

He'll turn around and walk out of the store and never show his face in this place again, too mortified to see the very attractive sex shop employee that turned him on by just telling him to look at them. 

Too lonely to come to this weirdly couple-populated sex shop too.

God, he really needed to get laid. 

Maybe it was really time to give in and download one of those dating apps that Han kept suggesting. 

He wouldn't start anything serious. He didn't have time for that as mentioned before. He'd do it for nothing more than to meet a one night stand that would fuck his brains out and leave the very next morning. He was sure that wasn’t what Han intended when he’d suggested it, but it really wasn’t any of Han's business either way.

Changbin picked up the bag.

"What's your name pretty boy?"

You rest your chin in your palm, slouching against the counter and looking at him. You're taller than him normally but you’re the slightest bit shorter than him now and it makes him feel both nervous and excited.

"...Changbin."

"Hello Changbin, I'm Y/N." You reach a hand out to shake but he ignores it, preferring for you not to know exactly how sweaty his hands are at this very moment.

He doesn't know what to say next. Doesn't know what you were trying to do by asking for his name and introducing yourself. 

But he doesn't have to wait before you're glancing back down toward the bag that burns in his hand. "Ever used one before?"

Are you even allowed to ask that? Probably not. But he doesn't care.

"N-no...I, uh, figured that I'd try something new today. My roommates are out for the week.”

Okay and maybe it wasn't the best idea to inform you that he was going to be home alone and using a 9 inch dildo to masturbate tonight but he can't seem to hold his tongue back.

You take your sweet time to reply, letting him sweat for a good few seconds that he counts in his head as a slow smirk crawls across your face. "Adventurous." You now point at it. "and I'm, uh, guessing that you're using it on yourself, right?"

What were you suggesting right now?

“Uh-“

“I mean like, you’re not dating anyone right? Single?”

This must violate some kind of code of conduct about you working here. You should not be able to ask your customers this.

"Yeah." his voice sounds hollow, feels breathless. "Yeah I am."

Why is he even replying?

Meaningfully you scan him, watching him grow twitchy with nervousness. You then pull out a piece of paper from under the counter. Changbin stares at it as you messily scrawl some numbers onto it. When he looks back at you, you're already staring at him. "Listen pretty boy-"

"-Changbin."

Your face contorts into something unrecognizable that makes his stomach churn, in a good or bad way he can't tell, "Changbin. I’ve been working all day and I really don’t have the patience so I'm just gonna come out and say it.” You pause for emphasis, “I'm more than open to using that on you," you linger on the word, even though you don't really have to, you just like seeing the blush grow on his face. "If you don't want to, that's fine, don't feel pressured at all, but you seem to be wanting…someone in your life.” You glance back over to the couple, still looking at the dildos he had been.

Were you watching him? 

His heart pounds in his chest so loud he's afraid that you can hear it. His cheeks are flushed in mortification that he had been that transparent. That a stranger at a sex shop can see how desperately he needs to have his back blown out.

"So what do you say?"

Is it a good idea?...Yeah...probably not. 

“You don’t have to answer me now. Just,” you slide the paper across the counter and despite his best efforts to be in control of his body, Changbin grabs it, pocketing it all while you look smug. “give me a call if you would like to take me up on the offer.”

You glance at something over his shoulder and his eyes follow yours to the clock on the wall. He looks back right as you’re slinking to the back, through a rainbow wall of beaded curtains. “Hank!” You shout. “I’m going on my break, you’re on checkout!”

You glance backward one time, winking at him before disappearing into the back.

a/n: just lmk if you wanna be tagged in the final product, it is going to be the next fic i (hopefully) come out with so yeah

[sixpennydame]

Summer Promises

A one-shot for the Levi Ackerman x Fem!OC series, North Star

Read on AO3

Word count: 1.7k

Tags: fluff; post-Rumbling world; postwar!Levi feeling the healing power of nature

Author's note: While this one-shot is part of the North Star world, it can still be enjoyed without having read the series.

But the story is best enjoyed while sitting under the trees.

Levi can’t recall ever enjoying summers in Paradis. It had always been unbearably hot and humid; every shred of his uniform sticking to his body making it difficult to move. Not to mention that summer was the busiest time of year for expeditions. Riding for hours in the heat, the only time he felt a cool breeze was when he was flying through the air on ODM gear. The sound of nearby thunder from a summer storm would mingle with the footsteps of titans, and the flowers that dotted the forest ground were often splattered with the blood of his comrades. 

No, he had no good memories of summer. 

He’d arrived in Mursa at the peak of the season and with no knowledge of mountain summers.  But the moment he’d moved into your home he saw how much you treasured it: the fresh flowers neatly displayed on the breakfast table every morning, and the basket of vegetables from the garden under your arm. You opened every window in the house to let a crosswind cool the rooms, the gossamer fabric of the curtain blowing in the wind. 

He started his walk to his job at the stables in the early dawn hours, when the sun had not yet burned off the heavy dew collecting on each leaf and flower, the birds just beginning their songs. He noticed that the air was cool and crisp in the mornings and evenings here, and you’d given him a jacket when you’d seen him bristle at the chill. 

You - 

If people could be seasons then he’d decided you were summer. You were bright and warm, and had a bustling energy about you. He could hear you humming in your garden when you were pulling weeds, humming when you put laundry on the line to dry. Always humming, always singing…

…he didn’t mind it. 

“Come ride with me,” you said one day while visiting the stables. You were brushing your horse, Astrid, and she seemed to snort in approval. “You were saying you need to ride Demon more anyway, right?”

It’s true, he needed to get the stallion out and stretch its legs. 

“Ok, but just for a quick ride. I need to get back and do the rest of today’s chores,” he answered. 

“Pfft, you’ve done most of them already, the rest can wait. Besides, it’s summer!”

(This was something you often said, he’d realized -  when you wanted to sleep in a little longer on the weekends, when you’d eat an extra helping of strawberries with cream, when you’d stay up too late reading a book - as if summer was some magical pass to do things you don’t normally do.)

“He’s fine to leave for a few hours, right Mathieu?”

The old man smiles, the deep wrinkles around his mouth deepening. “Levi works so efficiently, I barely have anything left for him to do today.” He grabs a saddle and gives it to Levi. “Go, enjoy the summer’s day.”

Once both horses are saddled, you and he ride out of the stables and into the meadow. 

“Where to?” he asks, having a feeling you’ve got something in mind. 

“We’re gonna ride up into those mountains a bit.” You point to a mountain range just to the west of the stables. “I have a place to show you that I think you’re gonna love.”

You look at him with a gleam in your eye. “Wanna race to the foot of the mountain?”

He liked this competitive side of you. “You know Demon and I will beat you.”

“Not if I get a head start!” 

A gentle prod to Astrid’s and you’re off in a flash. Levi smirks and pets the side of Demon’s neck.

“Time to show off a little, eh?” Levi clicks his tongue and taps Demon’s sides, just as they’d practiced over the past week. The black stallion snorts, stomping the ground before he starts his cantor. It doesn’t take long before they’re neck-in-neck with you, but he says a command and Demon goes even faster. By the time you and Astrid reach the foot of the mountain, the other two are relaxed, Demon nibbling on some blades of grass.

“What was that about beating me?” Levi smirks.

You roll your eyes before moving past him, starting up a narrow trail that leads into the trees. He follows behind, welcoming the cool shade as you ride further up. There’s a rustling in the bushes and Levi whips his head toward the sound, suddenly on alert. A deer’s head rises, seemingly unbothered by their presence.

Levi sighs. Even after all these years, it’s hard not to think that any movement in a forest is a possible threat. He keeps his eyes on your back as you ascend, the trail too narrow for you to ride side by side. But it’s a well worn trail, Levi notices; whether it was you or someone else that created it, it’s been used often. You don’t speak a word the entire trek until suddenly the ground evens out and you stop.

“Here we are,” you declare in a sing-song voice, “my little hideaway.”

The dense foliage of the pine and elm trees has given way to a small clearing dotted with white and blue flowers, their petals open towards the sun as if greeting its warmth. It was almost perfectly circular, like it was cleared of trees and specifically made. 

“Martin and I would come here when we were kids.” You step into the clearing. “We thought fairies made this place - it’s always felt so magical.”

“Fairies?”

“Magical beings that live in the forest.” Levi looks at you, perplexed. “There aren’t forest spirits where you’re from?”

“Not that I’m aware of. But there were plenty of things that wanted to kill us,” he replies. 

“Fairies can be mischievous, but they’re usually kind and benevolent. Especially if you give them a gift.”

You take out a peach and a small bottle from your saddle bag and place it under a large tree next to the clearing. “They particularly like wine and fruit.”

“Who doesn’t,” Levi says, slightly to mock but he must admit, his interest has peaked. “Now what happens? Do they jump out of the trees or something?”

 “No! That’s silly,” you answer. Your eyes shine as you take his arm and pull him into the center of the clearing. “I know you don’t believe in any of this stuff, but..”

You sit down, pulling him down with you. “...you’ll see, there’s something special about this place.” 

Before Levi can respond, you’re lying down in the grass, your face towards the sky, just like the flowers around you. “Just lay down. Close your eyes. Listen.”

There’s something about the calm and confident way you voice those three commands, and the next thing he knows, he’s lying beside you, his arms crossed against his chest.

One final sigh of resignation, and he closes his eyes. He waits a few seconds, wondering if something will happen, and laughing at himself internally for even entertaining these kinds of foolish thoughts. 

But then his breathing steadies, and he notices that it’s in rhythm with the breeze blowing through the trees around him: an in and out, as if the trees are also breathing. 

He feels a tiny insect - probably an ant - walking across his hand, the tall grass brushing against his body.

He smells the scent of pine in the air, sweet and woody.

He hears the bird song around him - the same melody he hears every day, but now, he notices every note. It’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever heard.

There’s another sound - a voice in the air, but it’s not yours. 

“Rest..” it says..

…

…

Levi opens his eyes to the sound of you humming in the distance. He sits up, blinking a few times to adjust to the changing lighting.

“You felt it, didn’t you?”

You’re picking some flowers next to a tree, twisting their stems into a flower crown.

He rubs the back of his neck before standing up and wipes off the grass from his pants. “How long was I out?”

“Oh, for about an hour. I didn’t want to wake you, you looked so peaceful.” 

Levi walks over to the tree you’re sitting under and leans against the trunk. You look up and smile at him.

“The fairies tend to give us what we need most. Apparently, you needed rest.”

Levi does a mental scan of his body. He does feel rested, more than he has in a long time. His muscles are relaxed, and even his knee isn’t aching as much. He’s never been a superstitious person - he believes what his eyes and other senses tell him - but he has to admit, there is something special about this place.

He wants to ask you what you were given during your time in the clearing, and what you need most. And why you brought him, of all people,here.

Instead, he looks away, his face apathetic. “Yeah, well, an afternoon nap is never a bad idea.” He glances down to see you smiling at him. “What?” he asks defensively.

You smile so sweetly at him, he feels a slight heat to his cheeks. 

“Oh…nothing…nothing,” you reply, standing up as you hold the flower crown. “Thanks for coming with me today.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Would you…come here again with me some time?’

He can feel the blush growing across his face now and he turns away, walking towards Demon, who’s grazing nearby. “Sure.”

“Promise?”

He looks back at you to see that you’ve now put the crown upon your head. The breeze blows some of your hair across your face, and he almost reaches out to push the strands behind your ear, but you beat him to it. Of all people, why would you want to spend time with him? You'd only just met him a little over a month ago. And what is it about you that makes him want to say yes to whatever you ask?

He can’t explain what it is about this place that makes it feel so special. Maybe it’s some natural phenomenon, maybe it is fairies.

Or maybe it’s just you.

He reaches out and straightens the crown on your head.

“I promise.”

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one of my kind — daniel ricciardo

daniel ricciardo x you (femreader) | 1.6k summary – getting high with daniel. warnings – 18+ (sex, coarse language, drug references) a/n – yay for the first instalment of the mm2k celebratioooon! shout out to the anon who sent this idea to me ages ago and to @percervall and another anon for sending me in prompts for daniel – love ya's!

It always ended like this – a web of tangled limbs, throats burning, tongues stoking the desire simmering somewhere deep within that was never set alight anywhere else, with anyone else. It was only ever a glance, knowingly across a room; catching bloodshot eyes and sending the signal. You both knew what you were doing, patiently waiting for the opportunity rarely given; supposedly distantly linked through mates, barely friends. Secretly fucking.

At every chance.

Too often for acquaintances.

But he had you floating in his cloud; covered in flames from the moment you walked in the room – dizzy from the promise of having him caught in yours. It was hypnotic the way you floated his way, natural; desperate to breathe in the sweet mix of spiced sandalwood and pot that was fused into your senses for the rest of time, giving you a fix that crawled across your skin; etched in your memory.

“How are ya?” He asked so nonchalant, so easy; as if he hadn’t been thinking about this since the moment you left his apartment in Los Angles weeks ago.

“Good, Daniel,” And desperately craving you, “How are you?”

The small talk was an act for your friends, for the people watching Daniel like a hawk – hidden in plain sight. It always began this way, pretence before the real show, before you snuck off to a quiet place – a bed, a couch or most often a bathroom, squeezed between a cold, chipping wall and the man who had you whimpering, begging to be touched.

It hasn’t been that long, he teased with no leg to stand on, sat back on a chaise lounge that had seen better days. Sunken and worn from the years of battering, witness to each cardinal sin – ruined like you were about to be. Daniel was hard to the touch when your fingertips traced the front of his pants, concealing the one thing that already had your eyes rolling, bewildered by the slurred promise whispered through his pearly smile.

“If you’re quiet, I can give you all of it, baby. None of this foreplay shit; the real deal. A promise that caused a chill to creep down your spine, fingers grasping every stitch of shirt between your thumping chests, nicotine lingering on your lips, his stained with your ruby red lipstick.

“Then don’t just sit there.”

You were impatiently standing between his knees, peering down through your lashes, fluttering and praying your desperation was endearing, not pathetic – attitude a plenty. And from the way Daniel leaned forward, grinning like a Cheshire cat and practically foaming at the mouth, you knew it was working. Intoxication and lust swirled into a cloud of arousal. Hormones hurried and sparks flying, cracking into the darkness and blowing away in the wind.

Fleeting. Temporary. A fix.

Daniel hiked up your skirt that had him plotting this moment from the second you walked through the door, laced panties barely covering any part of your pussy. As your thick thighs clenched his feverish hand, you needed his lips. A kiss from the devil in disguise, your kryptonite incarnate. Laid back, lazy smile, slurred Australian accent egging on your high as your hips rocked, separated from your mind.

“Use my thigh,” Daniel whispered, hoarse and gruff – a lump in his throat rivalling the one caged by the denim beneath.

“You’ve been looking at it all night anyways, haven’t ya?”

His suggestion caused a rippling moan to tumble, stifled by his thick neck you’d found yourself nuzzled into, sighing and moaning – messier than you would ever like to be with someone as majestic as Daniel. “I asked you a question.”

A hum was all you could manage, eyes closed as the high from the pipe you’d taken a hit from finally washed over you. That warm fuzzy feeling burning from your toes to the tips of your ears, a smile slowly slipping across your lips when you emerged from Daniel’s slick neck, pupils dark and blown out.

“But you promised it all, Danny.”

He laughed lowly, amused by the sweetness in your voice while your eyes told a different story entirely. He wanted you just as bad, cock twitching at the sound of your softly spoken words. Enamoured by your lazy movements, lapping against his dick, stiff beyond comprehension.

But of course you complied, desperately chasing some kind of release from the tension gathering in your stomach. Deeply entrenched and only awakened by the man guiding your sensitive clit against his tensed thigh. You’d never done this before, shamelessly gotten yourself off like this. It felt vulnerable when you dared to open your eyes, big brown doe ones staring back at you in awe.

“You are so fucking sexy.” Daniel doubled down, “Like, so sexy, I can’t cope.”

Your soft giggle escaped, causing his dimpled cheeks to deepen and hands to grip your bruising hips that little bit tighter, rocking you raw back and forth, angling you to the shape of his muscular thigh. Languidly building to the promise land, a string of moans lost to the quiet room. The only sounds were the soft hum of house music, clanking of glass bottles and your soft, silken cunt colliding with tanned, tattooed skin. Coming undone.

“I’ve been wondering what it feels like…” You huffed with stray hair sticking to your warm skin, hands desperately gripping Daniel’s strong shoulders and pulling yourself from his glistening skin.

“Like what feels like?”

All of this. All of you.

"Fucking you high."

"And?" Daniel asked, eyebrow quirked waiting for the verdict.

"So hot. Maybe too hot."

He hummed in agreement, tongue quickly swiping across his swollen lips, "Probably should be criminal." "I think it still is in some states..." You quipped, earning a genuine laugh from the man below. Enamoured by every thing you do.

Daniel peeled you apart, knees anchored beside his hips while you lined him up between your slick thighs, drenched with the thought of having him filling your tight hole. Finally, you muttered on your descent, feeling every curve, every bump, snug by your walls as you sunk down to his pelvis. A soft bated breath hitched beside your ear, husky and deep when you snapped your punishing hips, painfully perfect in every way. Sighing in synchronicity.

“Don’t tease.”

He loved to say things like that, a taunt for you to do exactly the opposite. A challenge to the finish line, racing for another kind of high – one that didn’t involve filling your lungs with smoke but just as dizzying. Daniel reached for the ashtray sitting on the arm of the lounge beside you, joint securely placed there while he attended to your needs.

And needy you were.

He placed the laxly rolled stick between his slightly parted lips, eyes never leaving yours as he took a drag and watched your neck turn a deep red. He loved you like this, pretty and wrecked because of him. Stealing the pleasure, taking what you wanted, taking over him. All of him, no inch left untouched. He swore he had died and gone to heaven when you snatched the joint from his mouth and placed it between your loose lips, sucking in the high and blowing it back into his face, smirk plastered across blushed cheeks while you watched his eyes close in aroused frustration.

“I’m gonna bust if you do shit like that,” He whispered, barely cracking a smile but you could see it. Subtle and just for you.

“Do it,” You pushed, “Come for me. Come inside me.”

Daniel looked up this time, a wicked laugh slipping past gritted teeth. He was trying to hold on, he was a gentleman after all – even if he was higher than a kite. But you looked like an angel fucking his dick; hands planted on his beating chest, tits bouncing under a shirt that was as sinful as the act itself. Thin and white, pert and fucking glorious. You were something else.

“You don’t want that mess, pretty girl. As much as it kills me to knock back that offer...” Daniel looked like a man tortured. Bitterly disappointed with the words leaving his own mouth as you sat back and rutted on his cock, egging him on just a little further until he grasped your arse in his palm, fingernails digging and making you wince, in pleasure and pain.

“Fine,” You huffed, eyes rolling, “Mouth?”

It was a simple question and it didn’t take long until you were swallowing the answer with teary eyes and the taste of him on your tongue. You loved it, really you did, watching him come undone, uncensored and on your knees – a front row seat. And of course Daniel made sure you got your fix with his mouth almost immediately attached to your cunt, making sure every single last drop was extracted before he came up for air – his stubbled chin glistening with the taste of you.

“You remind me of that INXS song,” He mumbled as you sat tangled together on the beaten up lounge, revelling in the brief silence before facing reality and sinking further into its secret-fuelled depths .

And seemingly into uncharted territory.

“Which one?”

The nest of curls on Daniel’s head brushed against the back of the lounge, smile lazy as he scanned your tired bloodshot eyes, “Need you tonight. You know, the sexy one?”

Your smile was coy, face burning again, “I’m familiar.”

“That’s a bitta’ you, I reckon.” His smirk grew larger the longer he watched you crumble and recoil from his stare, begrudgingly smitten.

It made sense for it to be your song. Steamy, sultry, frisky – sex almost always imminent when you found yourselves alone. Depraved and deprived, a dangerous cocktail of bad judgement. Is it a mistake if it happens more than once? More than a handful of times?

Or worse – what if it never stops?

“We’re cut from the same cloth, me and you,” He whispered, kiss pressed to your temple.

“You're one of my kind."

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