#ah i feel bad for complaining so much but

[enemiestolovershoe]

can you write one were reader is matts sister and Noahs best friend and the band always tease the shit out of them when their glued together? thank you:)

Subtle’s Overrated

Noah Sebastian x bsf!dierkes!reader

Summary: Y/N and Noah’s friendship sparks teasing and undeniable chemistry on tour, but when feelings finally surface, nothing—especially their bandmates—can keep them apart.

Words: 4k

Warnings: Teasing, Friends to Lovers, Use of Alcohol, Mention of smoking weed, I din't proofread it so maybe there's gonna be mistakes. lmk if i forgot something.

Disclaimer: While the characters in this story are inspired by real people, the events and interactions are purely fictional and not reflective of reality.

The airport was buzzing with early morning activity, travelers pulling their luggage through the terminal, announcements echoing overhead. You were leaning against one of the sleek chrome pillars, your carry-on by your feet, scrolling through your phone to pass the time.

Noah was right beside you, as usual. He had his arms crossed, a hoodie tugged over his messy hair, and he was squinting at the boarding pass in his hand like it was written in hieroglyphics.

"I swear they make these things harder to read every year," he muttered, flipping it over like the back might offer some hidden insight.

"It’s not a riddle, Noah," you said with a laugh, reaching out to snatch it from him. "Gate 22. Terminal C. You’ve been doing this for years, and you still act like it’s your first time at an airport."

"Not all of us are travel pros like you, princess," he shot back, smirking as he leaned casually into your space.

Before you could reply, a loud wolf whistle interrupted the moment.

"Ah, look at ‘em! Joined at the hip, as always!" Nick Folio’s voice carried across the terminal as he walked over, balancing a precariously large coffee in one hand and a bag of snacks in the other. "Should we just start planning the wedding now?"

"Shut up, Folio," you groaned, rolling your eyes, though the warmth creeping up your neck betrayed your nonchalance.

"Yeah, shut up, Folio," Noah parroted, tossing a crumpled napkin at him. "Jealousy’s a bad look on you."

Nick feigned hurt, clutching his chest. "Jealous? Me? Never. I just think you two make a cute couple."

"Do you ever let up?" Jolly chimed in as he approached, his bag slung over one shoulder. "I mean, they’ve been attached at the hip since day one, and nothing’s happened yet. Maybe they’re just... eternal besties."

"Or they’re both in denial," Matt teased, appearing out of nowhere and clapping Noah on the back hard enough to make him stumble. "Classic slow burn."

"Right, because you’re such an expert on relationships," you shot back, raising an eyebrow at your older brother.

"Hey," Matt replied, grinning. "Just calling it like I see it. And as your big brother, it’s my job to keep the guy glued to your side in line."

"Yeah, yeah," you muttered, shaking your head as the rest of the group laughed.

"Big brother or not, you’re still a pain," Noah quipped, though there was no malice in his tone.

"As if you’re one to talk," Matt retorted, pointing at him. "If I had a dollar for every time you’ve mooched off her snacks, I’d be retired by now."

The group chuckled, and even you couldn’t help but crack a smile. This was the usual routine, and as much as you liked to complain about it, it was comforting in a way.

As the teasing died down, Nicholas Ruffilo joined the circle, pulling out his phone. "So," he began, "who’s gonna be the one to lose their luggage this time?"

"My money’s on Noah," Jolly said without hesitation.

"Why me?" Noah protested, looking genuinely offended.

"You lost your passport twice last year," Jolly replied flatly.

"That’s different!"

"How?"

"Uh, it just is," Noah said, his argument faltering as you snorted.

"I’ll help you keep track of your stuff this time," you offered, patting his shoulder mockingly.

"You’re a saint," he said, putting a hand over his heart. "An angel sent to save me from myself."

"Don’t encourage him," Matt groaned, shaking his head.

The overhead speakers crackled to life, announcing the boarding process for your flight. Matt immediately took charge, ushering everyone toward the gate.

"Alright, lovebirds, let’s move it," he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

"We’re not—"

"Save it," Nick interrupted, throwing an arm around your shoulders as the group started walking. "We all know it’s just a matter of time."

You exchanged a glance with Noah, who shrugged with a small, amused smile. It was the same old joke, but this time, there was a flicker of something in his eyes that you couldn’t quite place.

As you reached the gate, Noah fell into step beside you, close enough that your arms brushed. "You ever feel like they know something we don’t?" he asked quietly, just for you to hear.

"All the time," you admitted, your voice just as soft.

The moment hung in the air for a beat too long before Matt’s voice broke it. "Hurry up, or we’re leaving you behind!"

With a shared smirk, you and Noah picked up the pace, falling into step with the rest of the band.

The plane was relatively quiet as everyone settled into their usual spots. You slid into the window seat with a satisfied sigh, propping your backpack under the seat in front of you. Noah dropped into the middle seat beside you, and Folio followed, plopping down with a dramatic groan.

“Man, who made planes so cramped?” Folio grumbled, stretching his legs as far as they could go without hitting the seat in front of him.

“Quit complaining, Folio,” Matt called from his aisle seat, shooting him a look over Ruffilo’s head. “You know it’s worse on the tour bus.”

“True, but at least I don’t get stuck in the middle of these two on the bus.” Folio gestured to you and Noah. “You’re like magnets, always leaning into each other.”

“Jealous you’re not in the middle?” Noah quipped, earning a snort from Jolly.

“Nah, man. I just don’t want to be collateral damage when this whole slow-burn romance finally combusts,” Folio said, winking at you.

You groaned and shoved his arm lightly. “You guys really need new material.”

“Maybe we’ll stop when you two finally admit it,” Jolly chimed in, earning a chorus of agreement from the others.

Noah just smirked, leaning back in his seat. “Keep dreaming, guys.”

As the plane took off and the initial excitement of the flight settled down, everyone fell into their own routines. Matt pulled out his laptop, muttering something about emails, while Ruffilo popped in his earbuds and started sketching on his tablet. Folio tapped away on his phone, and Jolly was already half-asleep, head tilted against the window.

You glanced at Noah, who was scrolling aimlessly through his phone. “What are you looking at?” you asked softly.

“Nothing interesting,” he said, tilting the screen toward you briefly before locking it. “You thinking of sleeping?”

“Maybe,” you replied with a yawn, leaning your head back. “Flights always make me sleepy.”

“You always knock out within the first hour,” he teased, grinning.

“Can’t help it,” you murmured, already feeling the pull of sleep. Without thinking, you shifted slightly, leaning your headagainst Noah’s shoulder. It wasn’t the first time, and judging by the way he didn’t even flinch, it wasn’t a big deal to him, either.

Time passed, and you drifted off, your breathing evening out as the noise of the plane faded into the background.

It wasn’t long before the teasing began.

“Look at him,” Jolly whispered from across the aisle, his voice low but just loud enough for Noah to hear. “He looks like he’s holding his breath.”

“I think he’s afraid to move,” Ruffilo added, smirking. “Wouldn’t want to wake her, huh?”

“I’m not afraid to move,” Noah said defensively, though he kept his voice quiet so as not to wake you. “I just don’t want her to wake up cranky.”

“Oh, sure,” Matt interjected, leaning forward to get a better look. “That’s a real heroic excuse. But let’s be honest, you’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

Noah shot him a look. “You’re her brother. Shouldn’t you be discouraging this kind of teasing?”

“Should I?” Matt said, feigning deep thought. “Nah, this is too much fun.”

“Careful, Noah,” Folio added, nudging him. “You keep letting her nap on you, and the next thing you know, you’ll be the designated human pillow.”

“Already am,” Noah muttered, but there was no real annoyance in his tone.

The ribbing continued for a bit longer before everyone settled back into their respective distractions. Noah shifted slightly, trying to keep his arm from going numb under your weight. Despite the teasing, he couldn’t help but smile faintly at how peaceful you looked.

As the captain announced the descent, Noah gently nudged your shoulder. “Hey, we’re landing soon. Time to wake up.”

You stirred, blinking sleepily and taking a moment to realize where you were. “Oh, sorry,” you mumbled, sitting up and rubbing your eyes.

“Don’t apologize,” Noah said, his voice soft. “You looked like you needed it.”

From across the aisle, Jolly piped up, “Did you get any drool on him this time?”

“Jolly!” you exclaimed, your cheeks flushing as the rest of the band burst out laughing.

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding,” Jolly said, holding up his hands in mock surrender.

Noah just smirked, grabbing your carry-on from under the seat. “Ignore them. They’re just mad they don’t have someone to nap on.”

You rolled your eyes but smiled as everyone prepared to disembark.

The airport was bustling with activity as you and the band made your way outside, your bags in tow. In the bus parking lot, your familiar tour bus stood waiting. Its sleek exterior and logo had become a second home over the years.

As you approached, Folio let out a dramatic sigh. “Ah, the tour bus. Where dreams of legroom come to die.”

You climbed aboard with Noah right behind you. As expected, you both took the booths across from each other—the same ones you’d claimed on every tour since your first. He threw his backpack onto the seat before flopping down, stretching his long legs.

“Surprise, surprise,” Matt said as he followed behind. “You two gravitate toward each other like it’s magnetic.”

“Yeah, we get it, Matt,” you replied, rolling your eyes but smiling. “Maybe we just like consistency.”

“Consistency, huh?” Jolly drawled, sliding into a booth further back. “Sure it’s not because you two can’t go five minutes without making googly eyes at each other?”

Noah shot him a look. “You’re projecting, man.”

“Yeah, totally projecting,” you chimed in, grinning.

“Call it what you want,” Matt teased as he threw his bag into the seat beside him, “but it’s only a matter of time before we’re writing ‘Mr. and Mrs.’ on the bus windows.”

Ruffilo smirked. “Or printing it on the next batch of merch.”

“You guys are insufferable,” you muttered, trying to suppress your laughter.

The drive to the venue was filled with similar banter, the kind that made the long hours on the road bearable. When the bus finally pulled into the lot behind the venue, everyone piled out, stretching and groaning after the ride.

Inside, the band got straight to work setting up for soundcheck. You wandered into the sound booth where Matt was stationed, helping coordinate with the crew.

“You’re still gonna be my unpaid assistant this tour, right?” he asked, grinning as you leaned against the console.

“Of course,” you said with mock enthusiasm. “Living the dream.”

As the band began their soundcheck, you couldn’t help but watch Noah. He was in his element, mic in hand, his voice effortlessly commanding the space. The way he moved, the focus in his expression—it was mesmerizing.

“Subtle,” Matt said dryly, breaking your trance.

“Huh?” You turned to him, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks.

“Your staring,” he teased. “You’re not exactly sneaky about it.”

“I’m just watching the sound levels,” you lied, feigning nonchalance.

Matt chuckled. “Sure, let’s go with that.”

The band wrapped up soundcheck, and everyone took a break before the show. Back in the green room, the teasing resumed as everyone grabbed snacks and drinks.

“Are we gonna have to peel you two apart again tonight?” Jolly asked, smirking as he sipped his water.

“Not unless you want to lose a limb,” Noah shot back, earning a laugh from Folio.

“Relax, man,” Folio said. “We’re just pointing out the obvious. You two are like those couples in rom-coms—everyone knows what’s coming except you.”

“We’re not a couple,” you said, exasperated. “Can we change the subject?”

“No,” Ruffilo replied immediately, earning a high-five from Jolly.

As showtime approached, you found yourself backstage, the energy in the venue electrifying. The band took the stage, and you couldn’t help but sing along and dance to every song, caught up in the moment.

From where you stood, you could see Noah glancing your way more than once, a small smile tugging at his lips when he caught your eye.

When the show ended, the crowd’s cheers still echoing in your ears, you were more than hyped. The moment Noah stepped offstage, sweaty and flushed from the performance, you ran to him, wrapping your arms around him in a tight hug.

“Y/N,” he laughed, his voice still rough from singing. “I’m literally soaked in sweat.”

“I don’t care,” you said, grinning as you held on tighter.

“Aww,” Jolly cooed from behind you. “A post-show love fest.”

“Jealous?” Noah shot back, his arms briefly tightening around you before he pulled away, though his smile lingered.

Before you could respond, Matt approached, crossing his arms as he looked at the two of you. “Still hugging, huh?”

“Don’t start,” you warned, though your tone lacked any real bite.

“I’ll start if I want to,” Matt said, smirking. “But I’ve got a better idea. Drinks to celebrate the first show?”

Noah glanced at you, his brow quirking. “What do you think?”

“Sounds perfect,” you replied, still buzzing with excitement.

“Great,” Matt said, clapping his hands. “Let’s pack up and get out of here.”

The bar was dimly lit, buzzing with music and chatter as you and the band made your way to the VIP section. The staff had cordoned off a cozy corner for you, complete with plush leather couches and a low table littered with menus and coasters.

Matt was quick to take charge, ordering the first round of drinks. He came back carrying a tray with an assortment of glasses, grinning like he’d just won a prize.

“To the first show of the tour!” he declared, raising his glass.

“To surviving another tour without killing each other,” Jolly added dryly, earning a laugh from the group as everyone clinked glasses.

The night unfolded in a haze of laughter, stories, and an ever-growing pile of empty glasses. It wasn’t long before Folio and Matt were deep into their cups, leaning heavily into their drunken states.

Folio slumped back into the couch, a lazy grin on his face. “Damn, I’m so drunk,” he mumbled to himself, chuckling. “Shouldn’t have smoked that joint during the show.”

You and Noah, seated next to each other on the crowded couch, exchanged amused glances and laughed quietly at Folio’s confession.

“What’s so funny?” Folio slurred, his glassy eyes focusing on the two of you. Then he paused, squinting as if his vision had just betrayed him. “Wait a minute… are you… sitting on his lap?”

Your cheeks immediately flushed as you realized he was right. The couches were too crowded, and at some point, you’d perched yourself on Noah’s lap to make room. It had felt casual—comfortable even—but now, under Folio’s scrutiny, it was anything but.

“Uh, yeah,” you said, trying to play it cool. “There’s no room.”

“No room,” Folio repeated, his grin widening. “Sure, let’s call it that.”

“Here we go,” Noah muttered under his breath, his arm resting lightly around your waist to keep you steady.

Folio leaned forward, as much as his inebriated state allowed, a mischievous glint in his eye. “You’re awfully cozy for two people who are ‘just friends.’”

“It’s practical,” you countered, though your voice lacked conviction.

“Practical,” Matt chimed in, sliding onto the couch beside Jolly with his drink in hand. His face was flushed, his grin even wider than usual. “That’s what we’re calling it now?”

“Oh, come on,” you groaned, burying your face in your hands.

“No, no, let’s explore this,” Matt said, clearly delighted. “You’re telling me, out of all the space in this VIP section, the only place you could sit is on Noah’s lap?”

“Exactly,” Noah said with a straight face, though the corners of his mouth twitched. “It’s basic physics.”

“Physics,” Matt repeated, laughing. “That’s the best you’ve got?”

“Better than whatever logic you’re using to justify that shirt,” Noah shot back, gesturing at Matt’s garishly patterned button-up.

“Deflection,” Folio sang, pointing at Noah like he’d cracked some great mystery. “Classic deflection.”

“You two are unbelievable,” you said, shaking your head, though you couldn’t help but laugh.

“Unbelievable? No, no, no,” Matt said, his voice full of mock indignation. “What’s unbelievable is that you’ve been in each other’s pockets for years, and you’re still pretending nothing’s going on.”

Folio nodded vigorously, almost spilling his drink. “They’re like… like one of those slow-cooking stews. Taking forever, but you know it’s gonna be good when it’s done.”

Noah groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Alright, I think it’s time to get these two to bed.”

You nodded, standing up and grabbing Folio’s arm. “Come on, big guy. Let’s go.”

“I’m fine!” Folio protested, though he made no effort to resist as you and Noah guided him out of the booth.

“You’re fine, huh?” Noah said, steadying him when he stumbled. “Tell that to your liver.”

Behind you, Jolly and Ruffilo waved lazily from the booth. “We’ll hang out a bit longer,” Ruffilo called. “Good luck with those two.”

The walk back to the bus was anything but quiet.

“You two looked real comfortable back there,” Matt teased, slurring slightly but still sharp enough to make you groan.

“It’s not like that,” you said for what felt like the hundredth time, focusing on getting him up the bus steps.

“Sure, sure,” Folio chimed in, leaning heavily on Noah. “Bet you’re just gonna sit on his lap the whole tour, huh?”

“Folio, shut up,” Noah said, though his tone was more amused than annoyed.

Once you got them into their bunks—after much coaxing and a few more poorly aimed jokes—you and Noah retreated to the living room section at the back of the bus. It was quiet now, the gentle hum of the bus’s engine filling the space.

You sank onto the couch, exhaling a long breath. “Well, that was… something.”

“Every tour starts like this,” Noah said, sitting across from you. He leaned back, stretching his arms along the top of the couch. “It’s like a rite of passage.”

You laughed softly, running a hand through your hair. “I’m surprised they didn’t start singing wedding bells on the way back.”

“Oh, give them time,” he replied with a smirk.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help smiling. A comfortable silence settled between you, and when you glanced up, you caught Noah watching you, his head tilted slightly, a faint smirk on his lips.

“What?” you asked, your brow furrowing.

“Nothing,” he said, though the look in his eyes suggested otherwise.

“Come on,” you pressed, leaning forward slightly. “What’s that look for?”

He shrugged, his smirk deepening. “Just thinking.”

“About?”

“You,” he said simply, his voice low but teasing.

Noah’s smirk didn’t waver, his gaze steady and warm as he leaned slightly closer. The faint hum of the bus seemed louder in the quiet.

“What about me?” you asked softly, your voice barely above a whisper, curiosity and nervousness mingling in your tone.

He hesitated for a moment, as if weighing his words carefully, and then his lips curved into a gentle smile. “You’re really beautiful, you know that?”

Your breath caught for a second, and you blinked at him, taken off guard. “What?”

He chuckled, the sound low and almost shy, a stark contrast to his usual confidence. “I’m serious. You are.”

A flush crept up your neck as you tried to find your voice. “Noah…”

“What?” he teased, leaning his elbows on his knees, his body angled toward you. “Can’t I say something nice without you getting all flustered?”

“I’m not flustered,” you shot back, though the heat in your cheeks betrayed you.

“Right,” he said with a knowing smile, his eyes sparkling.

You folded your arms, narrowing your eyes playfully. “Why now? What’s with the sudden compliments?”

He shrugged, his expression softening. “Maybe it’s not sudden. Maybe I’ve always thought it, but I’m just bad at saying it out loud.”

Your heart thudded in your chest at his words. “You think… you think they were right all this time? About us?”

“No,” he said firmly, his voice steady and leaving no room for doubt.

Your stomach dropped a little. “Oh.”

He tilted his head, studying your reaction, and then his lips quirked into a small smile. “I don’t think they were right. I know they were.”

Before you could respond, he leaned in closer, his hand lightly brushing against your knee. The air between you felt charged, the space too small yet not enough.

And then he kissed you.

It started slow, tentative, as if testing the waters. His lips were soft, warm, and they lingered against yours just long enough for your breath to hitch. When you didn’t pull away—when you leaned into him, your hands instinctively finding his shoulders—it deepened.

Noah’s hand slid to your waist, guiding you closer as the kiss grew more passionate. The world outside the bus seemed to disappear, leaving only the quiet hum of the engine and the racing of your heartbeat.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, and he pulled you onto his lap without hesitation. The moment felt electric, the years of teasing, tension, and unspoken words finally snapping into place.

His lips moved against yours with a fervor that sent your mind spinning. You shifted slightly, your knees pressing into the cushions on either side of his hips. His hands rested firmly on your waist, pulling you impossibly closer.

It was as if nothing else mattered, just the two of you finally crossing an invisible line that had been drawn so long ago.

And then—

“Damn, I’m wayyy too dizzy to sleep in that tiny bunk—” Folio’s voice cut through the haze, slurred but loud enough to make you both freeze.

Your head whipped around, your eyes wide, as Folio stumbled into the living room. He stopped mid-step, his eyes blinking rapidly as they focused on the scene in front of him.

“Oh,” he said, his tone laced with a mix of shock and amusement. “Ohhhhhh.”

You scrambled off Noah’s lap, your cheeks burning hotter than the sun as you tried to compose yourself. Noah, on the other hand, stayed seated, though he ran a hand through his disheveled hair, his expression caught somewhere between frustration and bemusement.

“Folio,” you started, your voice a pitch higher than normal. “What are you doing up?”

He pointed vaguely in the direction of the bunks. “Too dizzy. Needed air. Did not expect to walk into… whatever this is.”

“This isn’t… it’s not—” you stammered, flailing for words.

Folio smirked, leaning against the doorframe. “Nah, don’t stop on my account. Just… maybe put a sock on the door next time or something?”

“Go to bed, Folio,” Noah said, his tone exasperated but still holding a hint of a smile.

Folio gave a mock salute before stumbling back toward the bunks, muttering something about how the tour was going tobe very interesting.

As soon as he was out of earshot, you buried your face in your hands. “Oh my God.”

Noah chuckled, his hand reaching out to tug gently at your wrist, pulling your hands away. “Well, that wasn’t exactly how I imagined this going.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, though your face was still flaming. “So much for subtle.”

“Subtle’s overrated anyway,” he said, his smirk returning as he pulled you back down beside him.

Taglist: @courta13

A/N: Likes, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated! Let me know if you'd like me to continue this as a mini-series. Also, my asks are always open—feel free to request anything!

[five-star-stay]

From FNF teaser. A song thought to be made as a tribute to Australia's flora and fauna after the tragic bush fires in Australia between 2019-2020.

[bacchuschucklefuck]

love thinking kipperlilly spends her afterlife looking for lucy in a familiar forest

[presiding]

What is your favourite thing about Billie Lurk?

(Answers are obvious possibly but i love when people talk about her👍)

thanks for the ask!! YEAH ME TOO I love when people talk about Billie! I can't say I have a favourite thing specifically, but I can explain why she's my fav. apologies for not taking this qn literally, but -

short answer: she’s really cool

& you can stop reading there, or, for the maybe 2 mutuals who might have time to read this my thoughts on her as a character, her meta, and her character as raw potential...

long answer:

i considered making this entire thing a gush so you could read a gush about Billie. but, part of what draws me to her is that she’s not always well written, and in fandom she’s underrated for a literal protagonist.

since you ask...

billie is a cool character

when I played Dh2 (hadn't played Dh1), I was excited to see a black woman with disabilities who was captaining a massive ship by herself. wow.

then I discovered Billie’s backstory with Deirdre, the way she responded to that, then having to survive while living on the run, and her bisexuality. as well as her history with daud & delilah. fascinating!

she’s an outsider who has so much to lose, and knows what it's like to lose everything - having lost everything not once but three times - but nevertheless speaks truth to power. she's so brave! she went and helped Emily & Corvo and she must have known they might kill her! plus, she’s smart, she’s funny, she gets shit done, she’s gorgeous.

but... the meta

mild critique of fandom & arkane incoming.

skip this bit if you want - you've been warned twice now - jump to tired Hayao Miyazaki and read from there if you'd like my thoughts on writing her.

i thought Death of the Outsider was going to be amazing and then... well. *sad trombone* i've written about that before so i won't keep banging on. i figured others must be disappointed too, so I joined a few fandom spaces in hopes of finding camaraderie.

most people with complaints about DotO didn’t like how the Outsider and Daud were handled. which is valid & I agree. but it seemed like most paid no attention to Billie; when people talk about her it’s with respect to Daud, as opposed to in her own right. you could argue for fandom misogyny because people don’t talk about adult Emily Kaldwin that much either, but in Billie's case, it’s misogynoir (compare & contrast with the popularity of thomas, particularly the popularity of thomas portrayed as a white man for no particular reason that i've been able to discern - i keep asking around, is it in the books???).

i think this is a LOT better now than it used to be, which is fantastic. or perhaps i have found the correct echo-chamber? ha.

ultimately, The Fandom is a fraction of the entire picture, and not even the important bit since The Fandom is not who these games are made for. you can't make money relying on only your hardcore fans even if all of them spent a fortune on merch, this is true for any AAA game.

while it's true that Billie is underrated from a fandom perspective - but Billie as an underwritten protagonist is squarely Arkane’s fault.

it was reasonable when she was a side character - the lack of info in Dh2 makes perfect sense (if anything there was more lore in Dh2 which is kind of wild)-

- but as a protagonist in Death of the Outsider?

.... there’s lousy writing, and there’s whatever is going on with Billie Lurk, a black woman who mostly exists as a foil or saviour for light-skinned characters. In her own game there’s barely any of her own lore except where it's relevant to saving two dudes.

lore hints at, but barely touches on what race means in the Dh universe (xenophobia is stronger in Dh1; separate essay i guess), but Arkane has patted themselves on the back for portraying non-white characters, which feels like the same thing as the aesthetic of diversity we're seeing in advertising currently because it’s in marketing trend guides. it's self-congratulatory and it's a missed opportunity for deeper storytelling.

you can see an example of diversity at its most shallow in the way that Billie’s written: there’s little engagement with her as an entire person with history & wants & preferences, and the world she walks through in that game feels like it has nothing to do with her. you could make a case for alienation as a theme, but then, how do you handle the titular premise of 'Dishonored' without ever letting Billie make changes in an environment without a chaos system? it's disappointing from that angle too.

in my opinion, whatever it's worth, it was an accident Arkane created such an awesome character - they needed someone to betray daud. congrats billie.

all this said, it makes her an underdog as far as characters to enjoy & create art & stories for. it's nice to find so many like-minded, switched on people! <3

billie's character potential

she’s got a wealth of unexplored lore, being deeply intertwined with both Karnaca & Dunwall’s fates & criminal underbellies, as well as her connections to the witches & whalers, and three Empresses.

she’s lived a few distinct lifetimes and in the games we get to meet her at two peaks (KoD & DotO) & a low (Dh2 as Meagan).

her voice is very distinct, her dry & often dark humour is entertaining & fun to write. her perspective is really interesting - she’s had the widest variety of void-powers of anyone canonically, and she’s also lived through the highest highs and lowest lows.

she's got everything going for her :) i couldn't really pick a fav thing!

[saintobio]

HEARTBEAT.

when entering the second trimester of your pregnancy also brings along an increase in sex drive that you never saw coming. and with sylus being the father of your baby, you knew he isn't one to deny you of such pleasures.

♱ pairings. sylus, fem!reader

♱ genre. fluff, pwp, established relationship, 18+

♱ tags. baby daddy!sylus, pregnant!reader, profanity, pregnant sex, petnames (darling, honey, baby doll, kitten), daddy kink, breeding kink, spit as lube, biting, mentions of impregnation, creampie

♱ notes. i have many fics lined up for him omg so down bad for this man like there's no saving me T^T reblogs appreciated!

“S-Sylus—!” 

“Did I ask you to stop, kitten?” 

If you weren’t already 4-months pregnant, you knew it best that you would be able to move your body more fluidly on top of his. But carrying his baby had its accompanying struggles too—the first struggle being your belly getting heavier and heavier each day. Your waist also felt more firm than usual. And your breasts, although he loved the sight of their larger size, were often too sore and sensitive to touch. There were problems of heartburn, frequent urination, and constipation, too. And also mood swings, intense cravings, headaches, and back pains. 

But as your body adjusted to his growing baby, Sylus’s most favorite thing in your pregnancy was the fact that his child’s mother had an insatiable increase in libido. It was at a point where you couldn’t control it anymore. Your sex drive just jumped way higher than his, and he had to deal with your constant need for him to release that sexual gratification you had been longing for. Not that he was complaining.

“You’re the one who wanted to ride me, honey.” His teasing continued as he placed an arm behind his head, his back casually leaning against the headboard while you straddled him. He used the other hand to firmly grip your waist, guiding you to grind on him nice and slow. “Tired already?”

“N-No.” You rolled your hips against his to find the rhythm you wanted, but it was getting agonizing how difficult it was to hit your g-spot the way he would if he was the one moving. “Mmh—! Can you… can you move for me?” 

His crimson eyes darkened in amusement. “No can do, baby doll.” 

“Please…” you begged, moaning as you desperately rocked your body against his crotch. You tried lifting yourself up to bounce on his hardened shaft, but that required too much physical exertion on your side. “Aah—ah! I-I can’t do it…” 

Sylus raked his long fingers through his Arctic white hair before he repositioned himself better, almost sitting up as he secured both hands on your hips. “You’ve been treating me like a dildo for a week,” he quipped, laughing at his own words while your cheeks were heating up from embarrassment. “Now, you’re too lazy to move on your own?”

Your desperation got the best of you when you pulled his hair and glared at him. “I would if my belly wasn’t so heavy!” 

Yet, your dominating presence only ignited his teasing even more. “Actions have consequences, sweetie. Always begging to have me cum inside you resulted in that baby,” he said with a roguish grin, brushing his lips against your shoulder before biting on the soft skin. “I don’t mind it, though. At least, there’s something that ties us both forever now.” 

“Y-You talk too much,” you retorted, growing more and more impatient with the way you were moving your hips in circles. You could feel your pussy stretching to accommodate his thick girth, but you knew you still weren’t deep enough to feel the tip of his cock hitting your sweet spot. He had to do something. Something. Some… thing! “Ngh! Sy… please. I want you. Now.” 

“Throwing tantrums, aren’t we?” His deep chuckle resonated in your ears before he finally gave in, squeezing your sore tits with his large, manly hands, and playing with your nipple with the movements of his tongue. You whimpered from his touch, but allowed yourself to lean further into him, your back arching as he held your body in his arms. With his mouth now sucking one tit, he kneaded the other and gave it the same attention while you were a moaning mess on top of him. 

“Sylus.” 

He released your tit from his mouth, his saliva coating your breast as his carmine eyes looked up at you with a wanton gaze. “Yes, honey?” 

“Fuck me already…” you pleaded with desperate eyes, feeling the surge of hormonal tears beginning to pool in them. “Why do you keep tormenting me like this? D-Do you hate me? Do y-you not want me anymore?” 

The man closed his eyes for a moment, his chest vibrating with deep laughter that echoed through the walls of his dimly-lit bedroom. But he had been here before. He knew how to deal with you when your hormones were about to fully take over, so right as you were going to pull yourself away from him, he had already caged you in his arms, flipping you over in a position where he was the one in control now. 

“Such a spoiled little kitty you are,” he mumbled with a scoff, lying you carefully on your back and spreading your legs open so he could have access to your entrance. You could feel your heartbeat quickening as Sylus looked down at you with a lustful stare, like a predator about to devour his prey, before he leaned down and crashed his lips onto yours. You two were already too familiar with the movements of each other’s mouths, already in perfect sync with the way you would roll your tongue around his. His tongue loved to explore your mouth roughly, biting your lower lip in between as he deepened the kiss. 

It was deep enough that you had to place your weak hands against his toned chest, slightly pushing him off to catch your breath. “Haah… Can’t breathe.” 

Sylus smiled at your weakened state and took it as an opportunity to pull away and stroke his entire length. He ejected spit from his mouth and used it to rub his cock, coating every inch before teasing your entrance with his swollen pink tip. Insane. It was driving you insane. You could hear the squelching sound on your slit as he slid his member in between your labia, making you clench your insides in desperation to have him. “What’s the magic word?” he playfully asked while slapping your pussy with his thick, veiny cock. “Hm?”

“Please…” 

“Wrong. Try again.” 

“Please, daddy?” 

A loud, breathy whimper then escaped your lips as he suddenly buried his entire length in a forceful thrust. Your walls tightened around his cock as he began jolting his hips forward, plowing his member in and out of your sopping cunt just as you had been asking for. He watched with titillating eyes how your breasts jiggled with every thrust, and went absolutely crazy when you reached for his hand and started sucking on his fingers.

“Hah—haaah! Mm… D-Daddy—!” 

He clearly enjoyed the image of ecstasy on your face, so he stimulated you further by rubbing your clit with his thumb. “Good, kitten. Cum for daddy.” 

With your thighs held on both sides by him, you placed a hand on your belly and the other gripping the sheets as he continued to ram his member inside your pussy at an animalistic speed. All sorts of noise were ricocheting across the room; the skin-slapping, the squelch, the moans and whimpers, the bed squeaks. 

“H-Harder, daddy. Please—!”

“You like daddy’s cock?”

“Mmh. Yes! Can’t… get… enough.”

Sylus planted a tender kiss on your thigh, still chasing his own seventh heaven by abusing your tight cunt with his monstrous size. The moment he felt your legs shaking, he knew he succeeded. You were already at the brink of losing your sanity, your mind breaking as you raised your hips so he could fuck you harder and faster.

“You really like it hard and fast, baby doll,” he muttered in a raspy voice, never once stopping from his merciless thrust inside you. This man. This sexy bastard right here was the father of your child. And goddamn was he the hottest man you had ever seen in your life.   

“Sy, I-I’m g-gonna—!” You held back a moan, but couldn’t contain it the moment the tip of his cock started hitting that sensitive spot inside you. One time, two times, three times. On the third thrust, you could feel a familiar coil on your lower abdomen, like your insides were being twisted painfully good. And before you knew it, your body was already twitching. Your legs were uncontrollably shaking. Your breath, unstable. You couldn’t open your eyes because you were too absorbed by your orgasm, not realizing that Sylus’s own guttural moans were a sign of his own climax, too. 

As he let out a deep grunt, you could feel spurts of seed filling your core. It even seeped out as he pulled out, watching his own cum dripping down your pussy. “You look beautiful, honey.” 

You were way too sore to move. The sudden decrease in energy left you frozen in bed, leaving it to Sylus to do all the post-sex cleaning and wiping. The room itself smelled of sex, your scents mixing together to make an intoxicating smell. You didn’t even notice he’d brought you a glass of water by the time you opened your eyes again, your breath now more stable as he slipped into bed next to you. 

“Thank you, my love,” you said, returning the glass of water and pulling the duvet to cover your body. “Cuddle with me, please?” 

“Anything for my darling.” After placing the glass on the nightstand, he turned to you and held you in his arms, letting you trace his rock-hard abs with your shaky fingers. “How do you feel? Satisfied?”

You gave him a sheepish grin before nuzzling your nose into his neck. His scent could surely get you drunk if you continued to sniff him. “For now.” 

Chuckling lightly, he rubbed your back with a tender hand. “Any late-night cravings? Fruits? PB&J?” 

“You are,” was your playful reply, “my only craving for tonight.” 

The proud grin on Sylus’s face couldn’t be easily erased. “You hear that, son?” he suddenly said, moving his hand to rub your belly. “It’s getting hard to ‘match mommy’s freak’ nowadays.” 

You laughed at his unusual yet familiar choice of words. “First of all, where did you learn that line?” you asked, propping an elbow to look at his handsome face. “Secondly, how are you sure it’s a baby boy?” 

“I just know.” He simply shrugged, tucking a few strands of hair behind your ear. He then lifted your chin with his fingers, then placed a soft kiss on your lips. “They say doggy gets you a boy.” 

Two wide eyes stared at his crimson ones. “I knew it!” you exclaimed, pinching his nose. “I knew you were trying to get me pregnant that night.” 

He tried to hide his smile by moving his head towards your bump, planting a gentle kiss on your belly before pressing his ear against it. “You act like you didn’t beg me to knock you up,” he countered with a challenging smirk, “Can you handle having a mini-me pestering you every single day, kitten?” 

Instead of teasing him back, your heart melted at the thought of having your own little Sylus running around the house. No doubt your baby would inherit his father’s mischievous nature and be endlessly spoiled by his uncles, Luke and Kieran. You could imagine your child would have his dad’s hair, eyes, and nose. “My baby!” you swooned, caressing your belly and hoping he could feel your motherly touch. “I can’t wait to meet you soon.”

“I’m really going to be a dad, huh?” Sylus’s loving gaze made your heart swell inside. “I’d destroy the world for you two.”

You ran your fingers through his hair and shook your head with a smile. “Yeah, I know you will.”

[skitskatdacat63]

Idk if chair wip will ever be completed :( it's a bit too early on for me to say so tbh, but IT'S FRUSTRATING ME UGH

[uzicel]

[ittybittyfanblog]

Error 404: (Self-Aware!AU, Sylus Edition)

Summary: A LADS self-aware!AU featuring Sylus (+ maybe the other MLs!) and an oblivious player. That’s it, that’s the plot. Tags: player!reader x sylus, fem!reader x sylus, reader x lads, maybe some suggestive language?? will add more tags as the story progresses A/N: This is gonna be a multi-chapter fic! I’m still not sure whether to do the boys in rotation, or just focus on one ML per series. Don’t take my word for it atp tho – I’m not even sure if I can actually finish a series lol.  Also, I’ve had the creative liberty of changing stuff from the actual gameplay here and there. (Except for the self-awareness. That’s most definitely real.) Hope you enjoy~!

Pt. 1 - Pt. 2 - Pt. 3 - Pt. 4 - Pt. 5 - Pt. 6 - Pt. 7

It’s a quarter past eight and you’re still on your desk working overtime on a Friday night. 

You let out a big sigh, leaning back on your office chair after an unhealthy duration of bad posture from hours of slouching down in front of your computer. There’s nothing ergonomic about the way this job is killing you, and the ache in your lower back can attest to that. 

An irate orange tabby plops himself in front of you, blocking your view of the glaring screen and you figure that it’s time for a break. 

“Me-oow.”

“I know, I know,” You answer tiredly, standing up to dodge a stray paw clawing your way and you hear cracks in three different places that are honestly unbecoming of a woman your age. You haven’t even reached thirty yet, for god’s sake. “I’m a bad mother. But mom also had to skip dinner to make it to the seven PM meeting, so cut me some slack, okay?” 

A high-pitched “meooowr!” is the only response you get; it seems like there’s no excusing late dinner time this time around. 

As much as you’d like to hem and haw and complain, the main reason why you’re still keeping this job is because you can work remotely. If it weren’t for the fact that you’re stuck most days at home working hours past your regular nine to five, having to be on-call around the clock at all times, and that you’ve consumed more sodium than a nitrite victim with the way you live off cup ramen, then, really, it beats working in an office where you’d physically have to clock in and out from exactly nine to five. 

Your right eye twitches. No, I have not fallen in love with the system that exploits me, thank you very much. 

“Here is your Fancy Feast, your highness,” you tell the hungry feline who’s already ignoring the hand that feeds for the bowl full of white fish paté. He eats healthier than you, sure, but you work like this for him to eat like this. The life of a single mom is an uphill battle, but extremely rewarding. 

You raise your hand to pat your son’s head lovingly, aborting the gesture halfway when you hear a warning growl. Alright, tough crowd. 

After nuking a half-eaten takeout box in the microwave and grabbing a cold Bundaberg from the fridge, you hunker down on the “chaise lounge” (see: an old wingback and a rattan ottoman you’ve refurbished as a makeshift seat a few weeks back when you had guests over) for a late meal. 

You barely register the taste of lukewarm rice on your tongue, mouth moving mechanically while your mind runs on autopilot about everything and nothing at the same time. 

Maybe it’s time to check Jobstreet again

Is there like a laundromat near the area that’s open twenty four seven

Eugh, I hate cold peas

What do we feel about Chromakopia? 

I will… die alone

I really need to stock on some fresh produce this weekend–

Ping! 

A notification from your phone pulls you out of your thoughts—and like a well-trained dog pavlov’d into responding, you visibly perk up at the sight of your lock screen lighting up and the familiar banner you’ve already memorized by heart. 

Your Galaxy Explorer rewards are here. Did you put my hotel’s address as the shipping address? 

Ah, just like clockwork. 

You press on it with a quiet, bubbling anticipation, chewing on the plastic spork as you wait impatiently for the silly mobile game that’s been your short respite at intervals – for more than you’d care to admit – to boot up. 

Offhandedly, you wish that the devs would add more variations to the game’s push notifications; more random, personalized stuff like maybe a reminder to drink water, or a fun update about their day. What you’d give–pay–for a: "Less on the overtime, kitten. I miss you,” dialogue from a certain character, but you digress. 

Oh, well. Probably better this way, lest you dig yourself deeper into delusion. 

The game greets you with the usual picturesque view of a silver-haired man sitting cross-legged on a chair, looking all the bit at ease in his signature crimson and white button up. The warm ambience of the Destiny Café at night draws you in, already pulling your attention away from the never-ending stream of thoughts in your brain. 

“Before seeing you, I thought today would be another dull day,“ Sylus comments airily. The way he drawls out the words in that deep timbre of his voice never fails to make your heart flutter – just a teeeensy bit.

“Ever the charmer,” you sigh happily in return, situating yourself more comfortably on the sofa, almost horizontal from how far you’re leaning back on the cushion. “You’re looking awfully normal tonight. What, no pineapple glasses for your favorite girl?” 

Having bypassed the initial cringe of talking to yourself after literal months of gameplay, it almost comes off natural, the banter. You’ve already accepted the fact that you’re crazy about a fictional, pixelated man—what’s pretending to have actual conversations with him gonna do? It’s not as if he actually hears you yap your nonsense; there are worse things in the world than a parasocial attachment to an otome game character. 

Your little jab at the sometimes random addition to his choice of attire earns you a laugh from the man itself—or at least it looks as though it does, making you blink momentarily in surprise. Happy coincidence, I guess.

You shake your head, cracking a smile, then proceed to do the routine of completing the daily agenda and then some. 

It’s tedious business, sure. You’ve dedicated hours upon hours on this game and you’re honestly starting to feel pretty bored with some of the gameplay elements, but you *do* like the ritualistic nature of ticking off the tasks one by one. It’s almost ironic— the way you dutifully do one thing after the other in this game, just to avoid the pile of work that’s waiting for you in real life. 

It’s not as if anything, or anyone’s relying on you to do your daily log-ins, so you suppose it’s due to that lack of pressure as well. 

Pulling yourself away from the five-star Xavier memory card you’ve grinded to level seventy, you stare despondently at the sad little 2 on your remaining energy. The embarrassing amount of materials you lack to ascend the card seem to mock you, even as you exit the Memories window. Another goal for another day, perhaps.

All tasks on the daily agenda are complete, except for one that you’ve always saved for last.

You’re met with a standing Sylus on the game’s home screen, arms crossed and wearing an expression you’d almost describe as impatient, if you didn’t know any better. The sight makes you grin. 

Cheekily, you poke his crotch.

You’re looking forward to getting a playful remark, or if you’re lucky, a blush along with an embarrassed retort about your shamelessness. 

 What you get, however, is a resounding scoff. Your eyes snap back to his face – from, ahem, your prolonged staring at the area below his waist – and you do see the familiar tinge of pink on his cheeks, but what he says in response catches you off-guard.

“You spend that much resource for a card that isn’t mine?” Sylus tsks, both his voice and expression coming across as… affronted? “Kitten, I’m actually hurt.” 

Huh?

You haven’t heard that line from him before. Was there a recent update you weren’t aware of? The man in question then appears to look amused, from the way you’ve been rendered speechless by the unexpected dialogue. 

All at once, you gasp when you realize what the new response means. 

“That’s so smart,” you say giddily. You see Sylus cock his head to the side, synchronously quirking an eyebrow—expectant. “They actually added a feature that lets them know which memory I’ve upgraded last, and make you react to it. Oh, that’s so cool!” 

If you weren’t too busy being excited over what you think is a new update from the game,  you’d see the chagrined look on Sylus’ face. But when you glance back at him, all trace of the emotion is gone before you could notice anything different. 

“Don’t worry, Crow Man. You’re still my favorite,” you assure him, making his mouth tick upwards in a semblance of a smile. He looks pleased all of the sudden, his demeanor shifting into something more relaxed.

Then a pout forms on your face. You crinkle your nose in frustration as you complain, “It’s just really hard to level your cards up at this point. It takes ages and a shit ton of energy just to level you up past seventy five.” Sighing, you add, kind of bitterly, “And I’m too broke to be spending money on growth packs.” 

Checking the time on your phone, you see that you’ve already spent more than an hour on your self-imposed break time and you know that you ought to get back to work soon. With a groan, you pull yourself to sit upright, savoring the last few minutes of free time before you slave off for the rest of the night. 

You’re about to clean up what’s left of dinner when you notice the oddly thoughtful look on Sylus’ face. 

There’s a deep furrow in his brows as he brings a hand up to cover his mouth. He closes his eyes shut for a few seconds. He's never done that gesture before... Ugh, he looks really hot–

Suddenly, you see a flicker— then a weird, sort of graphic distortion happening in the background. Uh, what??

A beat; then a glitch on the screen. “Ah, shit.” 

The game crashes.

You exhale loudly as the game’s interface goes back to the loading screen, tapping your thumb impatiently as the bar slowly loads to 15%... 50%..... 81%....... 

“Maybe make sure to patch up first before releasing an update next time, jeez— Huh?” 

For a quick second, nothing seems to be amiss. But then the first thing you see on the home screen is Sylus’ figure standing before you, wearing an expression one could only describe as a cat that ate the proverbial canary. 

He speaks— and it’s another intro you haven’t heard him say, ever. 

“You should’ve told me sooner, sweetie,” he almost coos the words out, making your eyes bug out in shock. 

“Now, why don’t you go check your–” he pauses, and his mouth moves as if he’s rolling the word out, testing it. “Inventory?” 

Sylus slides his gaze towards the upper left corner of the screen, a coy smirk still ever-present on his face. 

There, you see something you haven’t noticed earlier: two notification badges. One on your mailbox, and another on the Hunter’s Info tab. Bewildered, you press on the mail icon first, despite the insistence for you to start with the latter. 

You see a new message: [For You]

A small gift, to bridge our worlds closer. – S 

Nothing is attached to it. You read it twice, perplexed.  

“You’re quite the contradictorian, aren’t you?” Sylus tuts as soon as you return back to the home screen, his gaze boring into you even when he tilts his head sideways in mock exasperation. “Mmm, I suppose it doesn’t matter. Take all the time you need, sweetheart.” 

Helplessly, you open your inventory next. 

Your jaw drops. 

“What. The fuck,” You whisper to yourself, voice wavering in disbelief at what you’re seeing, and the sheer amount of what you’re seeing. “This– this can’t be real.” 

You see that all the materials you own, from the bottle of wishes to the ascension crystal boxes, have been multiplied a hundred times over.

And on top of that–

Ninety nine thousand red dias????

You cannot believe how this– this recent… update (or is it a bug? Infold sure isn’t this generous) didn't make the news. Even as someone as uninvolved as you are with the community and the game’s latest releases, something like this for sure would’ve made headlines on Twitter (X), at least. But you haven’t heard anything. Nada. 

Holy shit. 

You feel a little light-headed, both from incredulity and excitement. Needing a moment to calm yourself down, you exit the Inventory tab in a daze.

You stare at Sylus. He stares back at you with what looks to be mirth in his eyes. 

Skeptically, you mutter, “did–did I get hacked or something?” 

Anticipating another unexpected dialogue to prompt up, you wait for a full minute without saying anything else. And for a moment, the man in front of you looks indecisive, contemplative. 

There’s something very odd, very… human in the way he’s looking at you. He looks as if– as if he’s—

His face falls back into a neutral expression. Not unlike how his idle animation usually looks. 

..

…

….. It doesn’t seem like he’s going to initiate a conversation any time soon, so you hesitantly poke him on the nose. 

“Even in the worst-case scenario, there’s no need to panic.”

You’ve heard that one before.

So he’s back to normal now. You temper the small disappointment that blooms in your gut. 

Shaking your head slowly, you try to make sense of all the stuff that just happened, but a sharp bite on your ankle pulls you out of your reverie. 

“Ow–!” The sight of your cat flopping near your feet reminds you of the time. More importantly, the backlogs waiting for you at your desk. 

“Wait, shit– I gotta get back to work.” This… unbelievable stroke of good luck (?) is gonna have to take a backseat for now.

You grab the carton box and the half-empty bottle of sparkling peach as you stand up. Making quick work of throwing the container in the trash and gulping down the rest of your drink, you rush into your room and back in front of your PC. 

Cracking your knuckles, you gingerly set your phone against the monitor. Setting the timer to one hour in Quality Time, knowing fully-well that you’re going to have to keep extending it until the wee hours of the morning—or until your battery dies, whichever comes first—you give Sylus one last look, letting out a long exhale before locking in.

“Just keep me company for the night, alright? I’ll figure out what’s going on once my shift’s over.” 

It could just be your overactive imagination, but you swear you hear a quiet chuckle from the man polishing his gun in your peripheral.

[babyleostuff]

― BROKEN CAMERAS

𝜗𝜚 THEME: fluff, domestic vibes, absolutely whipped kim mingyu 𝜗𝜚 PAIRING: dad!mingyu x mom!reader 𝜗𝜚 WORD COUNT: 1.2k

⦗💌 ⦘in which your little girl wants to take a picture of you and mingyu but drops the camera she stole from him in the process

„i was thinking,” mingyu murmured into your hair and turned the volume of the tv down, „that we could go to the farmer’s market tomorrow. since i don’t have any schedules, y’know.” 

you peeled your eyes from the screen and looked up at your husband from where your head was resting on his chest and nodded immediately, as if you’d ever say no to a day out with him and your daughter. „sounds perfect,” you sighed happily and fixed the blanket that mingyu wrapped you in some time ago. „maybe we’ll manage to find some vintage frames to match those in the living room.” 

he hummed and brushed his nose against your cheek. „just… this time we have to avoid the section where they keep the plushies.” 

ah yes, the plushies. 

your little girl’s current hyperfixation and your husband’s cause of nightmares. not that you minded, there was something endearing in a 6 foot something man sitting in a circle of bears and unicorns drinking tea from a miniature teacup. 

you smirked and lifted your head. „but she’ll be devastated, honey,” you fake-pouted.

she wouldn’t though, not really. your little girl has had her dad wrapped around her little finger since day one and she was a very smart kid, so figuring out how to get her dad to do anything for her wasn’t that difficult. she’s had the puppy-eyes technique figured out for a long time now, which… she used a lot to her advantage. 

mingyu groaned and lowered his head, bumping it against your shoulder. „there’s literally no room left in her bedroom. last night, when i was kissing her goodnight, i tripped over at least three of them!” he whined.  

that was very much true. you spent fifteen minutes this morning trying to find one of her shoes amongst the mess of unicorns of all shapes and sizes, and all you found in the end was a sock that you had been looking for for the past month. it didn’t help that soonyoug bought her tiger plushies every other week, not to mention seungcheol who loved spending his money on your daughter for some reason. 

but you couldn't help but throw your head back and laugh at your husband wholeheartedly. „gyu, you’re capable of tripping over air, it doesn’t count in your case,” you giggled and ran your fingers through his messy hair, pushing back the few curly strands that fell over his eyes. “besides, she’ll find a way to get those plushies either way. it’s not like you’ll ever say no to her.”  

you could feel your husband’s pouty lips against your collarbone as he said, “you’re right. but it’s unfair that mr.unicorn gets all the cuddles now. even that ugly monkey that looks like it had been through a car crash and a bad lip injection is more loved than i am.” 

heavens, sometimes you wondered who the real baby in your family was. 

“gyu, listen to me,” you took his face in your hands and peeled him away from you, “stop overreacting-,”. 

“but what if she’s all grown up now and won’t-,”. 

“she’s three, kim mingyu. besides, she loves you, you dumbass,” you ran your thumb over his cheek, though that didn’t seem to convince him. “she’s a daddy’s girl, okay? trust me, i am the one who should be complaining about the lack of cuddles,” you said and smoothed the crease between his brows.

“if you say so,” he sighed, and nuzzled his cheek into your hand. “but-,”. 

suddenly, out of nowhere, you heard a loud bang behind you, like something fell and... glass broke? mingyu being mingyu, almost fell off the couch, but you were quick to turn around to inspect where the sound came from. 

and your heart almost broke when you saw what, or rather who, was standing behind the couch.

"oh, honey," you cooed.

your little girl was standing in the middle of the room, clad in her pink nightgown mingyu had bought her on one of his trips abroad, only instead of the bright smile that always graced her face, there were tears in her gorgeous, brown eyes.

"what the?" your husband murmured next to you. “is that my camera?” 

your daughter’s eyes widened in panic as she looked at him. “‘m sorry, daddy,” her voice wobbled in the most heartbreaking way possible. the little girl’s tiny hands were clutching onto the neck strap that was supposed to be connected to the camera. “didn’ mean,” she sniffled, “to break it,” she said and the first tears started rolling down her puffy cheeks. 

you quickly untangled your limbs from the blanket but before you could get up, mingyu put his hand on your thigh. “no, no, no,” he almost tripped from how fast he got up from the couch. “it wasn’t your fault, princess.” 

you thanked whatever grace that your daughter was smart enough not to move because the floor around her was litreed in small glass shards and you weren’t sure what you and mingyu would do if anything happened to her. 

not even a second later, he was at her side, picking up her small body and engulfing her in his big arms. 

“don’ be angry, daddy,” your baby cried into mingyu's shoulder and wrapped her arms around his neck. 

mingyu shook his head and turned around to face you with a heartbreakingly sad expression. “i’m not angry, baby. i was just scared,” he murmured. “daddy thought you hurt yourself.” 

you waved for them to come over to where you were sitting and muttered a quiet “come here”.  

your husband placed your daughter on his lap, her head pressed against his chest, on the same spot where yours was just a minute ago. her tiny fists were pressed against his naked tummy as she continued to sniffle quietly. 

wiping every tear that escaped her eyes you started to hum one of the lullababies mingyu used to sing to her when she was a newborn, something you still did when she was upset. your husband was stroking her hair the whole time, rocking her back and forth, as you continued to hum quietly.

“why did you take my camera, sweetheart?” mingyu asked after a while, when her breathing calmed down a bit. 

“i woke up,” she said, looking up at him with her big brown eyes. “and i saw you n’ mommy sittin’ and i wan’ to take picture. like you always take of me n’ mommy.” 

mingyu’s own eyes welled up with tears and he quickly tucked her head back to his chest so she wouldn’t see him upset. 

“oh, baby,” you whispered quietly, though you weren’t sure who needed more comforting at that point. “that’s so sweet, but next time ask me or daddy for help, okay? you could’ve seriously injured yourself.” 

your baby girl nodded and she scrambled off mingyu’s lap to throw herself in your embrace instead. well, it was nice to know that the unicorns and your husband hadn’t replaced you completely yet.  

“what do you say we go and grab a camera together, hm?” he asked. “and we can do a whole photoshoot, we can even make a white background with the sheets.” 

“pink. pink sheets,” she said and clapped her hands. it seemed that you and mingyu breathed a sigh of relief that your daughter was back to her normal, bubbly self.  

taglist (if you want to be added, check my masterlist): @jeonghansshitester @weird-bookworm @sea-moon-star @hanniehaee @wonwooz1 @byprettymar @edgaralienpoe @staranghae @itza-meee @eightlightstar @immabecreepin @whatsgyud @hyneyedfiz @honestlydopetree @vicehectic @dkswife @uniq-tastic @marisblogg @aaniag @daegutowns @carlesscat-thinklogic23 @embrace-themagic @ohmyhuenings @nidda13 @hrts4hanniehae @k-drama-adict @isabellah29 @f4iryjjosh @bangantokchy @mrswonwooo @bangtancultsposts @lllucere @athanasiasakura @onlyyjeonghan @haecien @caramyisabitchforsvtandbts @hannahhbahng @valgracia @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken @mirxzii @hhusbuds @wonranghaeee @rosiesauriostuff @gyuguys @tomodachiii @veryfabday @lilmochiandsuga @asasilentreader @mrsnervous @bewoyewo @sharonxdevi @wondipity @gyuguys @raginghellfire @treehouse-mouse @waldau @wonootnoot @hellodefthings @dokyeomkyeom @sourkimchi @bbysnw @hoichi02 @aaa-sia @haneulparadx @minvrsev @zozojella @wonootnoot @kimingyuslover @wntrei @honglynights @jihoonsbbygirl @uhdrienne @bloodcanbehot  @iamawkwardandshy  @icyminghao @heeseungthel0ml @goyangiiwonu @bath1lda @ruurooozz @ny0sang @luuxian @onerubii  @hurrican3-insert-nam3 @mekuiikore @luvseungcheol @thenotoriousegg @yuuyeonie @soffiyuhh @svtficsarchive @hyperdramas @huen1ngk41 @lesuneczka @oc3anfloor @gyuguys @fr-freak @bewoyewo

[solxamber]

Vice Housewardens + Kalim trying a period simulator

part 1 with overblot gang + adeuce + rollo

I love putting them through this

Trey Clover:

Trey had always been the reliable, grounded guy. Need a cake baked? Trey. Need a shoulder to cry on? Trey. So when you approached him with the suggestion of trying a period pain simulator for "educational purposes," he just adjusted his glasses and said, “Sure, why not?” with his usual level-headedness.

You’d attached the electrodes to his abdomen, and he watched, almost too calmly, as you adjusted the settings. “This isn’t going to be so bad,” he mused. “I mean, how bad could it rea—”

Level 3 hit.

Trey’s entire body stiffened like a poorly baked souffle. His hands gripped the edge of the counter, and his polite smile faltered into something...less composed.

“Okay. Alright. Th-That’s something,” he said, voice tight. His glasses started slipping down the bridge of his nose, and for the first time ever, Trey Clover—the epitome of calmness—looked mildly panicked. “W-Wait, are you sure this is—AH, WHY IS IT IN MY SPINE?”

You snorted as he shot you a look, beads of sweat forming on his brow.

By level 6, Trey was gripping the counter like it was holding him back from the gates of hell. “This is not natural. I’m convinced this is just dark magic. I think the dough is rising inside me.”

When it reached level 9, Trey—calm, responsible Trey—finally broke. “Okay, okay, STOP. I take it back. You are all warriors. I’ll bake you whatever you want for the rest of the week, just please stop.”

With a press of the button, you ended his suffering, and Trey fell back in his chair, gasping for air like he’d just run a marathon. He gave you a weak thumbs-up. “Good... good lesson. I have so much respect for you now. Never again.”

Ruggie Bucchi:

Ruggie thought he could handle anything. Growing up in the slums, you learn to survive, right? So when you casually mentioned a period pain simulator, he scoffed. “Psh, it can’t be worse than a day of running around for Leona. Hit me with it.”

Oh, sweet Ruggie. He didn’t know.

You strapped him up, and as the simulator started, he just chuckled. “This is nothin’. I’ve had stomach cramps before. Ain’t gonna—”

Level 4.

Ruggie doubled over, hands on his knees, eyes wide. “H-Hey, what the—ow, ow, OW! Is this what you deal with?!” His voice cracked as his body spasmed.

By level 6, he was on the floor, clutching his stomach. “I’m sorry for everything. For stealing your snacks, for—oh seven, is this my punishment for that time I ate all your donuts?!” He was gasping, rolling on his back, legs kicking in the air like he was trying to outrun the pain.

“Ruggie, I’m only at level 7,” you said, laughing.

Level 9 hit, and that’s when it got wild. “PLEASE! PLEASE! I’LL DO ANYTHING! I’LL WASH ALL OF YOUR LAUNDRY. I’LL DO GRIM’S CHORES. JUST TURN IT OFF.”

You finally turned it off, and Ruggie lay there, twitching, face pale. “...I’ll never complain about anything again. Ever.”

Jade Leech:

Jade approached the period pain simulator like he did everything else—with unnerving curiosity. “Fascinating. I’ve heard about this phenomenon, but I’ve never had the chance to experience it firsthand.” He grinned that unsettling grin of his as you set it up.

“I’m sure it won’t be that bad,” he added with eerie confidence, as if he were about to observe himself in an experiment.

Level 2 was fine. At level 4, he twitched slightly. “Interesting sensation. It feels as though something is constricting. Very curious.”

At level 5, his smile wavered, just a bit. His breathing hitched, and his hand twitched. “Ah. I see. A dull, persistent ache.”

By level 7, Jade was gripping the edge of his chair, a bead of sweat rolling down his forehead. “This... is more intense than I anticipated. Quite...quite challenging.”

Level 9, and his grin was gone. For once, Jade looked almost human—panicked and wide-eyed. His fingers dug into the table as he gasped, “What is this? Is this...some sort of torture technique?”

You had to fight back laughter as he gave you a rare, pleading look. “Turn it off...please.”

When it finally stopped, Jade blinked rapidly, straightening himself with as much dignity as he could muster. “I’ll admit, I underestimated that. Quite... informative.”

Kalim Al-Asim:

Kalim thought this was going to be fun. Like a game. “Sure! I’ll try it!” he chirped, flashing his bright smile. “This’ll be interesting!”

At level 2, Kalim was still smiling. “It kinda tickles!”

By level 4, his eyes widened. “O-Oh. That’s...that’s a bit tight, huh?”

Level 6 hit, and Kalim’s smile faltered completely. He was gripping the couch cushions, eyes wide with panic. “Wait, wait, wait! It’s like someone’s punching me from the inside!”

Level 8 arrived, and Kalim let out a full-on yelp. “Okay! O-Okay! I-I take it back! This isn’t fun at all!”

You were wheezing with laughter as Kalim squirmed, trying to adjust himself in the chair, like it would somehow lessen the pain. “It feels like my insides are doing a dance but... but not in a good way! Jamil! Help!”

When you finally turned it off, Kalim lay there, panting like he’d just escaped a wild party gone wrong. “Wow. Just... wow. I didn’t know! How do you survive this?”

Rook Hunt:

Of course, Rook approached this experience like everything else in life—with an excessive amount of enthusiasm. “Ah, mon trésor, you wish to grant me the experience of such a unique sensation? Marvelous! I am prepared for anything!”

You hooked him up, and he was practically vibrating with excitement.

At level 2, Rook was still poetic. “Ah, it begins. A subtle whisper of discomfort, like the winds of autumn brushing against one’s skin.”

Level 4. “Ah! A deeper ache, much like the pull of unrequited love! So sharp, so vivid! I feel it in my very core!”

Level 6 hit, and Rook...started sweating. “Oh...oh my, it is as though my very soul is twisting! A veritable storm within me!”

At level 8, Rook clutched his chest dramatically. “Mon dieu! The anguish! How does one continue to live with such torment on a monthly basis? I am in awe of your strength!”

You were practically crying with laughter as Rook, finally humbled, gasped, “Turn it off, s’il vous plaît! My poetic heart cannot take any more of this agony!”

Lilia Vanrouge:

Lilia had lived for centuries. He had fought in wars, seen empires rise and fall, so surely this would be nothing, right? “Ah, this? A pain simulator? How quaint,” he said with a smirk as you set it up.

At level 3, he was still smiling, though you noticed a twitch in his left eye. “Hmph. I’ve had worse.”

Level 5 hit, and Lilia stiffened, his smirk turning into a grimace. “Oh...that’s rather unpleasant.”

Level 7 arrived, and Lilia’s face contorted. He gripped the arms of the chair, his tiny frame shuddering. “This is worse than I thought” he muttered.

At level 9, Lilia—a warrior who had seen millennia—let out a tiny, high-pitched yelp. “STOP! TURN IT OFF! THIS ISN’T RIGHT!”

You immediately turned it off, watching in amusement as Lilia leaned back in his chair, panting. “Well...I didn’t expect that to be my undoing.” He gave you a weary smile. “You are far stronger than I ever gave you credit for.”

Masterlist

[takumasheisty]

The room was heavy with arousal and the continuous slick sounds that came from his dick and your hand. It was also silent, except for the quiet whimpers than came from your adorable boyfriend.

“A-ah.. hah…”. Megumi whimpered quietly as you continued to pump his length. His pale body twitched with each stroke, especially when you focused on his pink tip.

You took your thumb and created circles on the tip as you placed chaste kisses on his neck, his most sensitive area. He whimpered and bucked his hips, as you licked each spot you kissed tenderly. His breathing was getting more ragged and unstable, and Megumi began to lean into you even more. He looked up at you with a glint of desperation in his eyes, seeming as if he’s pleading with you to let him cum.

You pumped him even faster, this time letting your tongue tease his tip gently, pulling more whimpers from him.

“F-fuck.. just.. j-just like that..” Megumi says. He grabs onto your arm to help support him, his body movements becoming less and less controlled. You take him into your mouth, bobbing your head up and down as your hand massaged his heavy balls.

“Fuck, Y/N.. g-gonna.. cum..” you suck him right until his reaches his climax, his hips bucking up into your mouth, and his breathing becoming erratic.

“C-close! Ngh..!” He cries out, and you release him from your mouth, edging him. The look on his face was so adorable, his pale face flushed pink and tears threatening to fall. You smile at him seductively, and his eyes frantically search your body. Gently, you caress his thighs, and kiss up his chest.

“W-why? I was.. so close..” He questions quietly, and you almost feel bad for restricting his orgasm.

“I didn’t want the fun to end, ‘gumi. Promise I’ll let you cum.” You assure him, and he leans back on his hands. “You look so adorable when you’re at my mercy you know?”

He looks away, almost ashamed even though he loves it. He loves when you take control of him. He loves when you decide when he gets to cum, but he’ll never admit that.

“s’ mean.. you’re so mean to me Y/N..” he complains like a child who had gotten their candy taken from them. He sighs and looks away from your captivating gaze, which admires his face.

“But you like it. Don’t you like when I’m a little mean Megumi?” You ask, tilting your head slightly as you gently graze your fingertips over his abs.

“Okay. Let’s try something different.” You propose.

“What if we used a toy to make you cum, you know, since you wanna cum really bad.” Your tone has a slight edge of condescension in it, but his eyes light up at your words. He slowly sits up on his hands, nervous at what you had in mind.

“W-what toy..?”

You smirk at get off the bed to go rummage through the closet. You spend a few seconds in there when you pull out a vibrator. You turn to show him and his face flushes so vibrantly at the sight of the lewd tool.

“Y-you’re gonna use that.. on me?” He asks, nervously of course. You’ve never used a toy on him before, much less a vibrator so it makes sense that he would be a little scared.

“Mhm! It’s gonna feel good okay? Don’t you wanna cum?” You assure him as you walk towards the bed. He adjusts himself slightly, adhering to the fact that you’re gonna use a toy that you’ve never used on him.

You move over to his side, and rub his back. You plant a few much needed kisses on his face and neck, calming any nerves he has.

“Jus’ relax, okay?” You tell him, gently pulling him closer to you. He nods and glances at you one more time before you flip the on switch.

You flip it on the lowest setting, just for him to get used to the vibrating feeling. You slowly place it on his pink tip, careful not to overstimulate him too fast. He inhales sharply, tilting his head to lean on your shoulder. With every breath, his chest puffs out.

“You okay? It doesn’t hurt right?” You question him, waiting a few seconds for a response.

“Y-yeah..” he shakes his head against your skin, and you can’t help but smile at how cute your boyfriend is.

You move the vibrator down the underside of his dick, causing him to jerk slightly. His mouth opens as he breathes shallower breaths. You take this as your cue to flip it to the second setting.

He gasps as you run the vibrating toy up and down his underside, letting out small whimpers here and there. Again you place the toy on his tip, which was now twitching every few seconds. But then, you run the toy over a specific spot right below his mushroom tip and he groans.

Did you just find.. the sweet spot?

You graze the toy over it again to study his reaction more clearly, and you were right.

“Ah! Ngh..!” He moans out, back arching slightly and writhing uncontrollably. He grabs onto your shoulder and holds tightly, yearning for your comfort.

“Hm? What’s this? You’re sensitive here?” You tease, angling yourself so you’re able to see his face, which has embarrassed written all over it. Once more, you place the toy on the sensitive area, but this time you leave it there.

“F-fuck..! Y/N..! T-touch me!” He cries out. You comply with his demand and run your free hand over his lean body, occasionally massaging his hard nipples. So much was happening at once he couldn’t focus on either thing. So many feelings. He was felling so many feelings. The air in the room that was heavy with arousal. The hard vibration on his dick and your warm hands fondling his nipples. It nearly hurt, but it felt good. Everything felt oh so good. It almost felt like he was.. floating? He felt fuzzy, a warm feeling building up in his stomach.

“Hey. Megumi? You there?” And he jerks his head to look up at you, he nods quickly, moaning and whimpering loudly.

“I was calling your name baby.” He nods again, managing a quiet apology.

“You close?” You ask, and it’s quiet for a minute.

“Gonna..! Y/N- ah..!” He cries out, and his hold on your shoulder tightens. You keep the vibrator on that sensitive spot and his cock begins shooting ropes of thick cum onto his thighs and the toy.

“T-touch me Y/N! Touch me more..!” He begs you, desperate to feel your soft hands roaming his body. He throws his head back, drooling slightly as he begins bucking his hips. You gently bite his neck, spurring his orgasm on more.

“F-fuck.! C-can’t..! ‘s happening.. too much..! Y/N!” He screams, squeezing his eyes shut tightly.

“P-please..” he takes your free hand, and begins sucking on two of your fingers. You can feel his warm tongue swirling around your digits as his hips keep moving. You gasp, unprepared but don’t stop him. His cock releases more spurts of pent up cum, and he whines.

Soon, everything begins to slow down back to its regular pace. His breathing calms down but he still holds onto you like a baby. His cock still twitches slightly and your fingers are out of his mouth.

“So you have a sensitive spot and an oral fixation. You’ve never sucked on my fingers before, you baby.” You giggle as you tease him and his wants.

“S-shut up.. didn’t even realize I did it until your fingers were… sorry.” he stops himself and looks away shyly.

“Don’t be sorry, Megs.” You say, still giggling. He grunts and ignores you, lying down in the comfort of your arms.

[roturo]

ᯓ★DASH ╰⪼┆MMM!, I JUST WANNA CONTINUE MY PACE!

⤹ featuring: jjk men and motorcycles!, smut, pussy slapping, size kink, unprotected sex, possessive behavior, jealousy, marking, breeding, masturbation, overstimulation, edging, multiple orgasms- gojo satoru, geto suguru, nanami kento, megumi fushiguro, sukuna ryomen..

⤹ next up!: bad news! (feb 2024) ft. jjk men suffering from reader having a low sex drive, ow!

february event! -`♡´-

gojo satoru

Sounds of skin slapping filled the room, he swears he was so close to cum for the second time in the afternoon. You? Maybe like the fifth? Sixth? He doesn’t remember how many times he ate you out– preferring to “skip lunch and have dessert” instead. 

The sounds of motorcycles and talking were silenced thanks to your moans. Not like he needed to hear the other people throwing shit at him. Probably just jealous that he always wins this type of spontaneous street races. 

He felt that familiar tingly feeling shocking his body from his hips to his neck, feeling how you were squeezing his cock he could tell you were close too, rings from his phone tried to win the sounds of his groans and moans. Notifications coming out from what you could catch to see– Geto asking where he was, that they needed him right now just so they could start the race. People were complaining of favoritism and how they shouldn’t let Satoru compete anymore.

“Sa- ‘toru, the- the race.” Taking breaths while trying to tell Gojo you were out of time and should stop– but all you could pronounce were small ‘ah, ahs~’ while he pounded behind you. “They can wait baby, just cum f’me one last time, yeah?” 

It was like a ritual for him to fuck you everytime before a race. Taking it as his “luck key”, even though he didn’t need it to win, he just accustomed himself to destress before racing. Not that you complain.

“They- they already know who’s goin’ to win anyway- shit- you feel so good babe” A specific thrust threw you over the edge and made your vision blurry, losing yourself in the feeling while Satoru was reaching his high too while he continued pounding behind you. “atta’ girl– there we go… yeah, take it f’me”

geto suguru

Don’t ask me how, but this man would love to see you riding him while he’s on top of the motorcycle. 

Small tired jumps in search of release while you stabilize yourself with the handlebar while Geto’s thrusts sync with yours. Caging your small body on his while he also stabilized himself by moving his hands to the handlebar, feeling the motorcycle tremble and having to put one of his feet down to stop it from moving too much.

You were too lost in the pleasure you wouldn’t even notice the white of his hands because of how hard he was gripping the handlebar, one of them moving to grip your waist instead, helping you get even deeper in his cock. All he could see was the connection between the two of you, his back pressed to yours.

“Ahh Sshit baby- S’perfect f’me–” He had to bite your shoulder to not embarrass himself and moan louder than you. His hand on your waist moving towards your core while he starts giving small slaps on your clit. The small pain he was inflicting aroused you more– taking a mental note that you would most likely forget to buy a new leather saddle for him. The both of you would already reach your highs and he would stop thrusting, making you cockwarm him, but he wouldn’t stop slapping your pussy. Loving your body reaction while he chuckled everytime you trembled on top of him each time he gave a hard slap.

Your clit was hard and pulsing because of how much he slapped it, your arousal wetting Geto’s thighs when you came again just by slapping your pussy. Feeling his hard cock inside of you he wouldn’t move and preferred to continue playing with you.

nanami kento

It all started with an innocent act. You sitting on his bike while admiring it— delicately touching it, your doe eyes and small body compared to his did something inside him. 

You just looked so… pretty sitting on his bike. Your hips rolling trying to find a comfortable position in this big bike of his– remembering the same movement when he’s inside of you. Trying to pleasure yourself on his big cock making an appearance on your tummy– not letting you touch yourself or him, you just had to cum by your movements and his cock.

He loved it. Watching your body move and using him as a sex toy– but for you it was a punishment, not being able to touch him, or to feel him in the right way stressed you a lot– making it harder to cum.

He loses the mental battle on his head and now finds himself between your thighs while you balance yourself trying to grip whatever part of his bike.Your legs caging his head even deeper in your center, he never felt so… needy for something. Being so ‘patient and tolerant’ flew across the window the moment he saw you end his bike next to each other.

Maybe because it was the two things he most adored in the world? You first, his bike second. But it doesn’t matter what was the cause, but now he’s sure the effect will be him sitting on his bike while you ride him.

megumi fushiguro

You thought it was funny? You know how easily stressed Megumi becomes when a race is coming. He’s a perfectionist, and really ambitious. So he could never let himself lose, not when he has a reputation to sustain now.

He needs to feel enough. Even though you always tell him he’s more than enough and should treat his hobby as it is: a hobby– he should take it lightly and enjoy it rather than making it something that would hurt him in any kind of way.

But the moment he saw you giggling next to one of his ‘rivals’ he’s sure something inside his brain magically turned on and made him feel an anger that he couldn’t quite describe. He trusts you. But seeing you next to someone else rather than him really bothered him.

He doesn’t consider himself as a jealous boyfriend– but you were just so perfect for him that he was afraid of losing you in any kind of way. He wouldn't admit that kind of sadness and insecurity inside him to anyone, he prefers to disguise it as rage. That didn’t quit the fact that he’s jealous right now though.

He obviously won the race, the moment you went to hug him and congratulate him you knew something was wrong. The way his body reacted to yours wasn’t normal, tough and stiff, like he was almost forcing himself to hug you lovely when all he wanted it was to fuck you infront of everybody and show them you were his.

Maybe that’s an idea for another day.

But right now when the both of you got home, he told you not to get off his bike. You were confused- maybe he’s taking you somewhere else?

Wrong.

He brought himself a chair, placed it so he was facing the right side of it. All he did was say two words.

“ride it.”

He pointed at the bike with a movement of his chin, your face showed confusion, but he was applying the silent treatment. He never did it to you– so that’s how you knew to do what he says before making it worse.

So that’s how you find yourself naked on his bike, trying to do the best you can to cum for a second time while Megumi watches, sitting on the chair jerking off his cock–. the needy mushroom tip showing how close he was, his balls visible swollen because of how he was edging himself, making sure “to save as much cum to dump it inside of you and mark you as his”

Breed you like an animal the moment you wet his bike again, leaving marks that would last days, just so the other fuckers know to not get near anything that it’s his.

sukuna ryomen

He would ignore the bike tbh.

This man wouldn’t care where he is, the moment he saw you next to his bike he knew he had to fuck you– he knew you had to mark it with your arousal caused thanks to him and that’s how he would remember you even far away from you.

But let’s be real now, this man would fuck you the moment he feels blood near his cock, it doesn’t matter anything else than you and his cock. Just pounding inside you, breeding you, and training you while you ride him saying “it’s the same shit if you want to ride a bike”

Not that he'st wrong, but you wouldn’t have a dick touching your g-spot everytime and something overstimulating your clit. But basically the same– yeah…

[munsster]

fixer upper

A/N: IM ACTUALLY SO EMBARASSED TO ADMIT THIS IS BASED ON ‘FIXER UPPER’ FROM FROZEN 💀💀💀 does that mean it counts as a song fic…….. (gif creds: @buckysbarnes)

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader (Season 3)

Summary: The kids aren’t saying you can change him, per se. They’re only saying that love’s a force that’s powerful and strange. 2.8k words

Warnings: fluff, babygirl steve, cursing, mentions of toxic (?) relationship, hopeless pining, pet names (sweetheart), shameless flirting

Steve can barely see through his rose-tinted daydream, but he's sure he recognizes your smile as soon as you enter the food court. And you lead a trail of whiny teenagers right to his register. This is the fourth time this week you've heard about Steve's lusturous hair and dazzling eyes. You have to hand it to them, they're not bad salesmen, just a tad young to elicit ethos. What the hell do they know about love anyway.

That's what happens when you're licensed and free on a Friday afternoon: babysitting duty. Now, in the event that Steve had been the one saddled with the party on his day off, he would've argued that they're not really babies and they should be self-sufficient. Knowing Dustin, however, this argument proves to be false almost every time.

But it wasn't Steve, it was you. Steve doesn't think he's heard you complain about one thing in your life.

Not even your deadbeat boyfriend called Brad. Who, as Dustin and Max and Robin love to remind him, is utterly replaceable and on thin ice every other week. Steve knows better than to get his hopes up after three months of having them crushed, though. He's learned to live with the strong sense of yearning he feels whenever you're within thirty feet of him.

Take now, for example: you're coralling half a dozen brats into a somewhat single-file line without even having to raise your voice. He should think it's impressive, but he's too distracted by your lip gloss and your voice and the way you did your hair today.

"I hope you give discounts to distressed young women," you tease, brows knitting when you look up at him. This is the part where he's supposed to respond with something charming. Sexy and charismatic, maybe.

"Oh, uh," he chuckles, "No, I mean, yeah. Sure"—Oh, but you smile at him and all that pent up charisma flies out the neon-framed sliding doors. They chatter out their orders at lightning speed, and he can barely catch half of what they're saying when you look at him like that. You finally make it to the register and pay half price. And your cone is always on the house, of course.

"Isn't he such a gentleman?" Max says unenthusiastically. Lucas elbows her side before retreating with Dustin.

"He's also a great driver!" Will chirps, shuffling away to one of the booths with Mike and El who giggle the whole way there. You turn back to Steve who stares off at them incredulously.

"You see what I have to deal with?" you say with some degree of affection for the chaos.

"Aw, come on," Steve says, tilting his head with a shrug, "you love it."

"I think they keep forgetting I already have a boyfriend."

Not much of a boyfriend if you ask me, he thinks.

But what he says: "Ah, yes. The elusive Brad."

You roll your eyes and grin at him. You know Steve has a crush on you. Or else the kids and Robin wouldn't be so adamant on marketing him to you. It's sweet, really. And honestly, you don't think Steve's unfit to play boyfriend or anything, but you're also not disloyal.

Your scoop melts down the side of the cone between your fingers. Steve nearly hurls himself across the counter handing you a thick stack of napkins.

"Shit, thanks," you huff, lapping at the stream of sticky ice cream. His stomach churns as his face screws into a sickly smile.

"Yeah. No problem."

"No, really"—you wrap a napkin around the cone, shoving the rest into your pocket—"I don't know what I'd do if I had to pay the entire bill everytime one of them had a craving."

"Really, it's not a problem," he shrugs it off like it doesn't come out of his paycheck. "I like helping out pretty girls when I can."

You giggle and tilt your head. "Steve Harrington, you're my hero."

He's almost embarassed at how fast his face flushes red hot and frantic. He reaches for the back of his neck on impulse, and any attempt he makes at seeming suave is foiled by Robin patting him on the shoulder.

"If you think that's heroic, there was this one time he singlehandedly saved Hawkins with this sick baseball bat with nails—"

He huffs, "Robin—"

"No, seriously! Don't be so modest, Steve, you're selling yourself short!"

"I'm not trying to sell myself at all!" he says, turning her around and guiding her towards the door to the back room.

"Great seeing you!" she hollers over her shoulder just before disappearing behind the swinging door. You wave with a chuckle. Steve tuts, fixing his sailor hat and shaking his head.

"Did you really do all that? Save Hawkins, I mean?" you ask. And you seem genuinely interested which is why it guts him. The one girl who actually gives a shit is coincidentally unavailable.

"Yeah," he says, shrugging, "but only to clear my conscience. It's like penance, or whatever."

You giggle, not sure if he's being truthful or playing it off. He meets your eyes and he's sure his heart stops dead in his chest for a beat. Nobody pulls off mall lighting like you.

The kids come skipping back to the counter, declaring they've all got different wants and needs around the mall for the next few hours.

"Okay, hold on, I promised I'd have you guys back before my date," you say, Steve overseeing the conversation from over your shoulder.

"Well," he interjects, "when's your date?" All the attention shifts to Steve, and he suddenly wishes he could swallow up the words and take them back for good.

"Two hours from now. Across town," you say, looking a little guilty knowing he's about to make the kindest offer of the year.

"I'm off at five, so I can just"—stop talking—"take them home after my shift."

"Steve, really, you don't have to—"

El grins, eyes wide as she whispers in Max's ear.

Steve shakes his head, "Sweetheart, believe me, I want to. Besides, you've already been through enough with the rascals. Go have fun."

You turn to the kids, almost pleading with them to accept Steve's generosity.

"Is that okay with you guys? I don't wanna leave you stranded," you admit.

They nod in agreement, throwing out a couple yes's and sure's. They're bright-eyed and bushy-tailed as ever, but you still feel bad dumping them on Steve like this.

Dustin interrupts: "This really just goes to show how Steve is a great candidate for marriage and other domestic relations. He can be odd at times and he might care too much about his hair, but you can tell by his actions that he would be a very reliable husband, a generous life partner, and—"

"And a great friend," you giggle, trying not to let Dustin get too carried away. You have sat through enough of his speeches for one day. "Now, quit trying to set us up!"

Steve rolls his eyes at the boy. "Seriously, at least wait 'til she's single. Then she can reject me for me."

You whip back to face him with a sour look on your face.

"Steven! That's not—that's rude to yourself," you huff, "Say three nice things."

He chuckles, crossing his arms over his chest and squinting at you.

"You're pretty, I like your shoes, and you smell nice."

"About you!"

"Ohh," he feigns surprise, "No." But you reach across the counter to whack him on the arm with a shocking amount of force. The kids chuckle from behind you. Steve can't help but smile when you raise your brows proudly. "Fine! I am deserving of love, I am great company, and my hair looks particularly shiny today."

"Good," you nod, "I agree. And I have to go, see ya!"

"With which one?" he says, watching you jog out of the store waving. "Wait! Sweetheart? Agree with which one??"

Steve sighs sharply, hands perched decidedly on his hips as his gaze falls flat on the militia of pre teens staring him down.

"What do you want?" he says.

"You're hopeless," Max says, mouth pressed in a hard line before she wanders off, arm-in-arm with El.

"Yeah, dude. And kinda desperate," Mike shrugs.

"Hey," he grumbles. Who knew such harsh words could come from such little humans. You'd think they'd be harmless at this age. You'd be wrong. 

"You're a total virgin," Dustin says, very matter-of-factly.

Steve cocks a brow, honestly trying not to laugh at the severity of Dustin's demeanor when he says it. "I don't even think you know what that means."

Dustin blinks. "Well, I think you haven't had sex in long enough that you qualify as one."

"Shit."

...

Much to Steve’s surprise, it only takes butthead Brad two more weeks to absolutely shatter your heart. No one knows the complete details other than it happened at a frat party and you had to walk back to the dorms alone. But Steve doesn’t need complete details to know he wants to shatter Brad’s jaw with his fist.

But he also vowed to use means other than violence to get his point across. He should be awarded for the amount of restraint it took to see your bloodshot eyes and not speed immediately off towards Asshole University like a Brad-seeking atomic missile.

Of course, he’s thankful you felt comfortable enough to call him. In fact, he was the first one you rang. And he knows this fact because you told him while you were sniffling away tears a week and a half after the break up.

Now, you’re sitting in the passenger seat of his beemer, curled into your sweater, and listening to late night soft rock radio while he focuses on the dark highway ahead of him. You hadn’t wanted to do anything else but sit in his car and think. His heart clenches everytime you wipe away a tear with your soggy sleeve.

He pulls off the highway during an ad break, finding a secluded diner surrounded by nothing but trees and gas stations. He pulls into a parking spot near the back of the lot where the overhead lights aren’t blinding, but you aren’t completely in the dark. He leaves the car on so the cold doesn’t seep in, engine still purring softly from under the hood.

“Who needs ‘em,” he says in attempt to lighten the mood. “Being single is way cooler. Take it from me. You get a bed all to yourself and you can fart whenever you want.”

You’re frowning, but you know he means well. You just can’t help the fat tears rolling down your cheeks.

“Oh, come here,” he whispers, leaning over the center console and dipping his hands over your shoulder and around your waist. His arms feel so strong and so warm where they envelop you entirely. Steve always was the best hug you ever receieved.

You can’t help but chuckle wetly into his collar after a moment.

“God, he was such an asshole, wasn’t he?”

“Uh, duh! Doesn’t take a genius to…” Steve laughs, pausing and brushing the hair away from your damp cheeks. “I know, sweetheart, and you deserve heaps better. You were always way too cool for that loser.”

You blink up at him in the low light. There’s a kind of twinkle in your eye that makes the tips of his ears hot. This time, you reach for him, weaving your arms beneath his jacket with a deep sigh. Your breathing slows against his neck, and he rubs your back while your arms tighten a little around his waist.

He can’t help but wonder what you’re thinking whenever you look at him with your doe eyes, seemingly sweet and far too inquisitive. He knows you’re probably just looking, maybe thinking of something else. But the hopeless romantic in him rattles his rib cage and shouts you might actually consider him this time.

“Wanna go get shakes? On me,” he whispers. You sniffle, wiping your aching nose on the cuff of your sleeve.

“I can pay for myself,” you tease, popping open the car door when he cuts the engine.

“Nope! Sorry, I don’t let girls pay, remember? Super sexist, I know. Plus the whole pretty privilege thing. Honestly, I should just be paying you at this point,” he says, hooking his arm around your back and feeling yours reach for his shoulder as you march towards the diner.

“I agree, rich boy,” you chuckle, “Reparations are in order for wrongdoings on behalf of your sex.”

He chuckles. He’s absolutely head over heels.

The waitress seats you at a cozy booth in the corner and makes a casual comment about the cute couple, asking how long you two have been together. Steve flounders at the question, flustered and pink in the face.

“Oh, we’re actually… not together,” you say, laughing awkwardly when she pouts and, again, remarks on how cute you’d be together. You order shakes for the both of you before perching your chin in your hand. Steve’s still reeling when the waitress walks away.

“Funny. We can’t even escape the third-degree from complete strangers,” you tease, winking at him from just a few feet away. Jesus, he’d think you were trying to kill him if you didn’t seem so lighthearted and playful.

“Yeah, pretty funny,” he sighs. And he’s probably being so obvious. Or maybe that’s how he is all of the time, so his heart eyes seem subtle. Or it’s obvious all of the time.

The waitress slides the shakes in front of you, and the bright red cherries sink further into the whipped cream.

“You know,” you murmur between sips, “I always thought you were pretty cute.”

He nearly chokes on his mouthful of chocolate malt, clearing his throat and trying not to crumble in on himself.

“Oh. Yeah, I get that a lot,” he huffs, “Mostly from little old ladies, but—Hey!”

You flick him and say, “Really! I know it’s not couth considering… Brad and all, but…”

“You’re being facetious,” Steve accuses.

“No—”

“Sarcastic!”

“Steve—”

“Ironic?”

“Try serious!” you hum, “I’m just saying, you’re very handsome. I was shocked to learn you were single when we first met.”

Steve’s blushing and puffing trying to maintain eye contact.

“What can I say? I’m just,” he huffs, “I’m not really worried about it.”

You tilt your head. “You’re not?”

“Nah. I know the right girl will find me in the end. Even if it takes a while. I don’t mind waiting for the right one.”

You settle back in the padded seat, wincing when it squeals beneath you. It makes you feel a little dejected, but you suppose he’s right. Especially because he seems so confident. So sure. It’s admirable. You want to be that sure of soulmates and love and the future.

“I feel the same way,” you whisper. He finishes off the rest of his glass with a smile.

“Though, it doesn’t exactly help having a bunch of little shitheads telling you to go get laid all the time,” he laughs.

“Oh, yeah, tell me about it” you lean in, “Just break up with him, steve is so much nicer. Dump that loser. Steve has a big crush on you.”

“They said that?” Steve’s not dumb, he’s sure you know by now, but he thought it was all conjecture. They will be hearing about this next time they want free ice cream.

“Yeah, that was like their main point. But I know with all the love in my heart they’re all full of shit.”

You shrug, and he chuckles dryly. He can’t decide whether you knowing is for better or for worse.

“Yeah,” he sighs.

Steve drives you home. You fall asleep in the car, and he keeps the radio low so as not to wake you. By the time he pulls into your driveway, he doesn’t care about the time or the fact that he lives far. He does, however, care about the way you smile lazily and peck his cheek in thanks.

“Anytime, sweetheart.”

He says it but he wants to tell you what he’s feeling. He wants to ask if you’re over Brad. He knows you’re not and that’s okay, but he wants to ask if he can hold your hand to keep it warm. He wants to ask what kind of flowers you like and if it would be okay for him to drop them off on your doorstep tomorrow. He has so much he wants to say and do, but he doesn’t want to suffocate you.

He doesn’t know that you wouldn’t mind him asking.

more like this

masterlist

[venmondiese]

WEIRD HOBBIES

-ˋˏ| summary: you meet a guy in a bar and decide to go back to his place, as weird as he might seem.

✧ | Pairing: Martin (in the modern world) x reader

✧ | word count: 2.3k

✧ | Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, Oral (f/m receiving), 69 position, Martin is weird as hell but a pussy eating champ! Not beta proof<3

“So… what’s your name again?” You ask curiously, walking behind the man that holds your hand, guiding you through his home, and to his bedroom. You don’t complain, though, since you were out just for that; to get home with a handsome man. 

There was this band that you never heard of playing near your house, and it took little for your brain to convince you to go. If something good came from it, you would get fucked. If something bad came from it, well… you hoped for the first one. 

That’s how you ended up here, following a dude, which looks from head to toe like a metal head. His hair goes to his shoulders, coal black, which you assume he dyed it, and some graphic shirt with the words ‘Knotfest’ and all, wearing some metal stuff that you didn’t really know much about.

And you looked like a rock groupie, with a leather top that practically squeezed your tits and a dark jeans miniskirt with some boots. Yet, this mysterious man was still taller than you, and that was quite exciting, and a bit arousing.

“Eh, Martin” he says nonchalantly, as he grabs your hand, his bracelets really end up the detail of his fit, and you feel really horny now to lay with this dude. “Yours?”

You tell Martin your name, following him as he opens his bedroom door. To be fair, it is tidier than you imagined.

“Sorry the mess” he murmurs, moving the drone and an electric guitar out of his bed. You hum, looking around curiously, to the badly positioned posters, some rock-metal bands that you didn’t know about.

“Is that a snake?” You ask, watching the little head of the reptile in the middle of the dim light coming from outside.

“Uh- no, it’s a lizard” 

A guy with a lizard as a pet. Okay.

“What is its name?” 

“Lizard. I don’t like naming them-” 

Great. 

You look at him with a fake smile. The dick better be good you think, taking out your jacket and leaving it on a chair next to the desk.

“Be careful, spider likes to crawl near there”

You took your jacket off there, and you really hoped that he had a dog called spider because otherwise it would be strange as hell.

“Riiiiight” you say, leaving your jacket in a hanger of his opened closet. Whatever. “So… Apart from having a lizard and a spider… do you maybe also have… a cockroach?”

He lets out a huff, his lips turning upwards as he takes his shirt off. “No” Martin says. “I do have another thing, though, it’s very big”

You try to smile at his corny, cringy words. It’s for the dick. You repeat to yourself: The dick better be good. He better not finish in two minutes. He better knows how to eat pussy.

“Ha. Funny” you say as you start to take off those boots.

“How did ya meet the band?”

“Ehmm… A friend dated the brother of an ex of the bassist. I think” you say watching as he frowns his eyebrows slightly trying to make any sense as he lights up a cigarette. 

“ah, nice” he says as he lays on bed as he smokes the cigarette, taking off his shirt as he remains only in those Adidas jeans of his. “Heard the songs before?”

“Once or twice” you say looking at the CD albums stacked on top of each other messily, and you move to grab a solitude piece of paper, as you can practically feel Martin’s eyes on your ass. “I liked the vocalist, quite handsome, don’t you think?” you unwrap softly the paper, away from Martin’s eyes.

It was an address. It piqued your curiosity.

“Aye, come here” his voice is soft as he extends his hand to turn off the cigarette on the glass ashtray, which has the shape of a dragon.

You turn around and walk toward his bed, and watch how he seems eager to have you. It’s hot to have a man drooling for you like Martin is now. And his erection is the living proof of it; it was obvious against his trousers that he was rock hard. You wondered if he was leaking as well. 

You straddle his lap, a smirk forming on your lips as his hands move immediately to your thighs, cold hands moving slowly up to find their way to your ass. 

“Sit on my face” Martin murmurs, words slightly stuck between his pants

“Hm? What was that?” You ask petulantly, pretending not to have heard. 

“Come on, beautiful, sit on my face” he says, pushing your hips closer to his chest, trying to push your miniskirt up.

“Gotta take my panties off” you say softly to him, watching his lips as he licks them, savouring the ghosting taste of you.

“No, like this” he murmurs, eager to taste you. “I’ll eat you from behind even.” Martin proposes, more desperate than the last time “Please”

You might forgive cheesy comments for his eagerness. You sigh with a wide smirk, turning around as Martin places his big hands around your thighs, dragging your centre closer to his face. 

Eager was the wrong word for it; he was desperate.

His hand moved your panties to the side, and his face almost nuzzled your cunt, before starting to press his tongue on your centre. You could hear his groan of pure delight, his hands caressing the skin of your thighs and ass as he delighted himself. 

“Fuck” you said, but it was as if all the air from your lungs when out in that moan. 

Martin’s hands were keeping you still, not allowing you to move your hips to grind his face as you wanted. You could hear his moans, the way he slurped and nuzzled his face on your cunt. 

He was a pro, eating pussy as if he did it every day (maybe he did, god knows), and he didn’t seem to care for his lack of air in the matter. He was on it, devoted to eating your dripping cunt as if it was his last meal on earth.

Your hands are pressed on his stomach, and he has to forcefully let you go to breathe, and you sigh as you feel his breaths. 

“Where did you learn to do that?” You breathe softly, as you can hear how he pants, catching his breath. 

“A good pussy can make a man go feral, love” he says, moving your panties out of the way as his index and middle finger move to rub against your slit. 

He was cheesy, and it was a bit weird. Yet it couldn’t bother you less, you had been with worse men, and Martin was good in other areas…, well, at least in sex and eating out a pussy. And it was more than average, so you were up to it.

Before he decides to keep on eating you, still caressing your clit as he catches his breath, you lean a bit on his torso, to try to pull down the leather pants, opening the zipper. 

It takes you a bit, yet after accomplishing your mission, your hand grabs his dick to guide it into your warm, eager mouth. 

He was well doted, and hard as a rock. He was leaking, and his tip was a bit pink compared with the rest of his cock. 

God damn you if it didn’t make your mouth drool. Between him eating you out, and his leaking cock, you think you will go insane. He could have cheeky, cringe comments but you could live with it. You couldn’t live without him eating you out or his cock. 

You are as enthusiastic with his cock as he is. Though, you start slower. You take the head on your mouth, sucking on it as you feel him groan against your pussy. It was fucking hot, and it had you moaning on his cock. You didn’t remember the last time your legs were trembling like this, and how much you wanted to feel a dick in your throat. It was a need, a primal need.

Martin was kind and nice, had his things, but god, you need to fuck him. You might even need to have his babies by now. You wouldn’t complain if he came all inside you, filling you with his cum, and making you pregnant. Fuck, it even turned you more on. What was this man doing to you?

You took more of his dick in your mouth, trying to take all of it, not minding if you choke on it. He was hot. More than hot, in truth.

Martin was relentless with his tongue, lapping at your cunt again and again, moaning loudly against it as he could feel how deep you were taking his cock in your mouth. Your hand moved to cup his balls, as your tongue tried to swirl around his tip. It drove him insane. 

It was not long before you started to cum, moaning loudly, his dick slipping from your mouth as your thighs pressed against his face, riding his face and nose as he was making you cum. His tongue was as greedy as him, and he worked with his nose along your slit. And it made you cum hard, rolling your eyes back. “Fuck, Martin, just like that…” You say, hips grinding against his mouth in a desperate need to stretch the feeling a bit more. 

And once you finish, your mouth goes back to his cock, to keep on sucking him off. “Fuck, you feel incredible” he rasped, as you moved forward, closer to his cock and have full access, as Martin’s hips pumped upwards to fuck your mouth. 

You lay on his chest, his face back on the pillow, moaning loudly as you seem to try to drain him completely, deepthroating him as if it was nothing at all.

“Fuck, you are going to make me cum” He says, teeth gripped as his hand moves to grab a fist of your hair, to move your head down to allow him fuck your mouth deep as he wanted. His own head titles back in pure bliss and pleasure, moaning loudly as he uses your mouth as a desperate animal in need to cum. Not that you complain, it costs a bit more to breathe, and you were almost choking, but hearing Martin be so local, groaning, moaning and grunting was worth it. 

His cum soon fills your mouth, and he keeps you still, the signal clear for you to swallow all of it, as his throbbing cock unleashed his hot cum. 

“Swallow it… fuck, swallow it all, take what I give you…” he mutters in pure bliss.

As the last drops of cum are licked off his cock, he leans back and you move to his side. 

“That was great” You mutter, looking at the ceiling. How could he be so great at it?

“Yeah. Cig break and round two?”

“Hell yeah”

You are with your friend when you search the location in the paper that you found in Martin’s room. You were supposed to go to the club, you were wearing your miniskirt and a top, really to party, but that man had eaten your pussy and fucked you like no one before, so you felt entitled to find what that was for.

“It’s cold” Your friend, Tamara, says. She was chewing gum as she followed you begrudgingly. 

“It’s a fucking parking lot?” You ask looking around the empty street, the night made it lonely yet not totally isolated. 

“Your darling buries the bodies here” Your friend says, obviously judging it all. “Can we go?”

“Look, there is a car” you point out, as the car seems to be jumping around due to the movements inside. “Gods, you think they are having sex?”

“Ew, you think he has a brothel in his car?” Tamara asks you, looking at the car as you both get closer. “Eww and you fucked without a condom… You could get an IST, and die”

“It is called an STD, and… I think he is not fucking anyone” you frown slightly, getting closer.

“Careful! What if his pimp is here…?”

“He is fighting someone!” You say looking inside the car, as you find Martin pressing the head of the other guy against the window. 

Surely, Martin was a weird dude. He was corny as hell, and he had pets called like the species they were. Sure. He almost burned his hair as he smoked after sex, yes; and he also ate pussy like a champ and was hung as a horse. 

“I am going there” You tell your friends. “The dick is worth it”

“Yikes” 

As you walk closer, you feel your friend either staying behind or walking away, not that you care. 

Martin had blood trailing down his forehead, and was lying in the passenger’s seat as his thighs choked the other guy he was with, holding his head still with his hands. Okay, whatever, a guy can have hobbies.

When he sees you, he starts rolling down the window of the car, as you lean closer to his height.

“Hey, darling- how did ya–”

“A girl has her secrets” you say, smiling as you see him. God, he was sexy as hell. “I want my pussy eaten” 

Martin smirks, and he leans back to sigh at your request, as if the idea delights him. He still applies pressure to the other dude, who seems to pass out. Martin leans forward closer to your lips and whispers “Will ya’ wait ten minutes as I finish with this round?”

“Three” You bargain.

“Seven.”

“Three”

“Five and I’ll make you cum twice.” His final offer, and the time you had in mind. Offering lower than one wants always seems work to get your official deal, even with an extra.

“Deal” you accept with a smirk. 

And what if he was fighting inside a car? You fancied Martin, and sure as hell he fancied you. Even if he has weird hobbies. 

[ylangelegy]

Hiii. Can I request a oneshot based on this HAHAHAH pleasee please like short oneshot will do!!! 🥰🥰 https://www.tumblr.com/svtsofthours/768423753034104832/seungcheol-jihoon-isnt-answering-his-phone?source=share

📞 do not disturb (jihoon x reader)

or: jihoon always answers. no questions asked.

★ footnotes: i debated the ethics (ethics?!) of taking this on, but i'm ultimately weak to anything and everything uji-related. prompt is fully by @svtsofthours ♡ word count: >980

Jihoon has a bad habit of leaving his phone on 'Do Not Disturb' mode.

In his line of work, getting in the flow was the most important thing. Inspiration could be dashed as easily as it came, and Jihoon's not about to risk his momentum being killed by a TikTok from Vernon or a 'wyd?' from Wonwoo.

His members call him vicious for it, but Jihoon is also the first to remind them that everything he does is for them. That's always the quickest way to shutting them up.

There are still ways to reach him, of course, when he's in the zone. Some members will drop by the studio unannounced. Some know to go through Jihoon's manager instead.

And some have begun to realize that they could simply just ask you.

It's another one of those long evenings, the type that has Jihoon feeling like his retinas are burning from all the time he's spent at his DAW. He doesn't remember the last time he looked away from the song he's working on, but it's a small price to pay for what he thinks is shaping up to be a potential title track. He just needs to tweak—

The thought is disrupted by the shrill ring of his cellphone.

Without so much of a second thought, Jihoon is reaching for the device and answering the call without even checking the ID. He has at least enough wits to know that he's been on 'Do Not Disturb' since he stepped into the studio, which means the caller could only be one person.

"Hi, honey," he says.

His voice is a tired rasp but the fondness bleeds through all the same. The sudden reprieve has him sinking a little further into his computer chair, like he's just registered how utterly spent he is.

That exhaustion pales in comparison to the warmth that floods his chest when you greet him back with your ever-so sweet, "Hey, darling. Still in the studio?"

You already know the answer, and yet you still ask. Jihoon feels a little endeared by it as he absentmindedly runs his free hand over his face. "You know it," he says. "What's up?"

"Seungcheol and Soonyoung have been trying to get in touch with you," you inform him.

Jihoon raises an eyebrow. He pulls his phone away from his ear to check his lockscreen and, sure enough, you're right. Six (6) missed calls from Coups-hyung. Six (6) missed calls from Hamzzi.

"I've been working," Jihoon says into the receiver as he brings his phone back up. "Are they with you right now?"

"Just Seungcheol. Here—"

Jihoon has half a mind to tell you, no, please, do not pass the phone over to Seungcheol, but the leader's whining voice is already piercing through the call. "You answered their call in less than ten seconds!" Seungcheol proclaims, the pout in his voice audible. "What the hell, Jihoon-ah?!"

"It wasn't less than ten seconds," Jihoon protests weakly, feeling the tips of his ears burn red at the insinuation of just how fast he could fold when it came to you.

Seungcheol doesn't give a damn about semantics. His point still stands. "You didn't answer a single one of my calls," the older boy complains. "I can't believe this!"

So help me, God. Jihoon knows he's already going to have to get the man one pastry or another to compensate for this misgiving. "Right, sorry, sorry," Jihoon huffs out. "Why were you calling, anyway?"

Seungcheol bitches and moans for a couple more minutes before eventually breaking the news about some brand endorsement that they need to sign on for. Jihoon promises to check his e-mail and have the contract in before the morning, which doesn't really appease Seungcheol.

Even as the leader passes the phone back to you, he's mumbling something like 'unbelievable' and 'ungrateful kid'. Jihoon rolls his eyes despite the fact that neither of you can see it.

His mounting annoyance ebbs at your voice, at your gentle question of, "When are you going to finish up?"

Jihoon lets out a low hum, eyeing the aborted song on his laptop. He had wanted to make changes on something— the bridge? the chorus?— but the idea was gone now, replaced only with the crick in his neck and the ache of longing.

"I think I could wrap up for the night," he decides. "We can order in some pizza and watch that drama you like. How does that sound?"

Jihoon can hear the way you try to tamp down your excitement in favor of tentatively asking, "Are you sure? I can always wait for you, darling."

And, oh, he loves you for it. He loves that your first and foremost concern is the disruption to his work, the easy way he throws it all aside in favor of a night in with you. Jihoon is usually much stronger than this, he swears.

But he's a weak, weak man whenever you come calling.

"I'm sure," he says. "See you in ten."

"See you. Take care." A beat. And then, you add in a whisper— almost like you're a little abashed to be saying it in front of Seungcheol— "I love you."

Even though there's nobody around to hear him say it, even though the words are yours and yours alone, Jihoon's voice softens to match your tone.

"I love you, too. Can't wait to come home to you, honey."

Jihoon ends the call at that because he knows you have a thing about not wanting to be the one to put down the phone. He stares down at his device and its Notification Center, where there's dozens of missed calls, texts, and e-mails. Evidence of what he's ignored in favor of the craft.

His 'Do Not Disturb' stays on, with only one exception to the rule: All notifications are allowed from you.

svtsofthours' post ->

Seungcheol: Jihoon isn’t answering his phone. You: I’ll call. Seungcheol: Soonyoung and I have both tried six times each, what makes you think— Jihoon: Hi, honey.

[wonderjanga]

Workaholic

Billy doesn’t notice, but he’s a workaholic. Like a really bad one.

Supes and Marvel: *talking*

Hero 1: “Hey, Cap!”

Marvel: *pauses his convo* “Yes?”

Hero 1: “Could you cover me for monitor duty? I have it later today at three.”

Marvel: “Oh, sure! No problem!” *smiles*

Hero 1: *extremely grateful* “Thanks a lot, man.”

A couple minutes later…

Hero 2: “Hey, Marvel, could you cover me for monitor duty for tomorrow morning?”

Marvel: “Sure!”

Supes: “Back to back monitor duty? Are you sure you want that?” *sounds concerned*

Marvel: “Yeah, why wouldn’t I?”

Supes: “I… never mind.”

A couple more minutes later…

Hero 3: “Cap, could you cover me for monitor duty-”

Supes: *sounds firm because he thinks his friend is being taken advantage of* “No, he will not.”

Marvel: *sounds confused* “But I want to?”

Supes: “Marvel, you can’t just accept monitor duty for nearly two days straight. What about Fawcett?”

Marvel: “What about it? I can protect it just fine with or without monitor duty.”

Hero 3: “If it’s really that much trouble, you can just say no, Cap-” *feels bad*

Marvel: “But I want to say yes!”

or

Marvel: *zoned out and listening to the Gods arguing his head*

Batman: “Captain.” *walks over, holding a tablet*

Marvel: “Yes?”

Batman: “You’re going to sign up for the latest long-term missions, right? Like usual?” *hands him the tablet*

Marvel: “Of course!” *looks at three missions available for sign up* “Do any of them overlap?”

Batman: “No, but-”

Marvel: “Great!” *signs up for all three*

Batman: “Did even read the content of the missions?”

Marvel: “No? Should I have?”

Batman: “Yes?? Are you sure you wanna sign up for all three, Captain? You’d be gone for nearly 3 months.”

Marvel: “Eh it’s fine. Tawny will cover for me, and I don’t think any of my villains will attack Fawcett if I’m not there.”

Batman: *stares for a second before sighing* “Alright then.”

Bruce took this as confirmation that Marvel doesn’t have a personal life. Being gone for three months without a single person noticing would be impossible if he had one.

or

Worker 1: “Ugh… I can’t believe this.”

Marvel: *appeared from nowhere* “What’s wrong? Do you need help?”

Worker 1: “AGH- Wha? Captain Marvel??” *in disbelief that the Captain Marvel is talking to him* “Uhhh no. I don’t need help at all.”

Worker 2: “He does. Help him, Cap.”

Marvel: “Okay!” *quickly helps and trots off to go help someone else*

Worker 1: *makes sure that Billy is far enough* “Dude, why’d you just make Captain Marvel help me?”

Worker 2: “I didn’t make him do anything. I think he just likes to be useful. Not that I’m complaining. He always looks so happy when he gets to help too.” *pauses to think for a bit* “Point is, just let him help if you need it.”

So yes, Billy will take any work, and seek out any work. He’s just that type of little guy. Anyways, Billy eventually found out that his workaholic tendencies were a little extreme when Freddy started also being a hero.

Junior: “I can’t believe I’m in the Watchtower!”

Marvel: “Yeah, it’s amazing right?”

Batman: “Marvel. The new sign up sheets are out- who is this?”

Marvel: “Ah, Mr. Batman Sir, this is Junior. Junior, this is Mr. Batman Sir.”

Junior: “It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir!” *hero worship is practically oozing out*

Batman: “Likewise…” *is internally confused* “Anyways, Marvel, the new sign up sheets for long-term missions are out. I assume you’ll be joining like always?” *offers the Sign uptablet*

Marvel: “How’d you guess?” *smiles and takes the tablet from him*

Junior: “Long-term missions?”

Marvel: *pauses just when he’s about to sign up for a mission, and looks over to Junior* “Oh right. Junior, I don’t know if you wanna come or not.”

Junior: “Uh…” *looks between Batman and Marvel* “Sure, I’ll go.”

Marvel: *smiles at Junior* “Good.” *looks over to Batman* “How long are they?”

Batman: *swears that just for a teensy weensy second, Marvel’s smile was fatherly* “Each of them should take approximately two weeks to complete.”

Marvel: “Really? That’s shorter than normal.” *looks over to Freddy nervously* “Are you okay with being gone for six weeks?”

Junior: “Si- six weeks?! Batman said we’d only be gone for two??”

Marvel: “Yeah, but that’s the length for one mission. There’s three listed here.”

Junior: “Wait, you’re signing us up for all three?!”

Marvel: “Yeah?” *sounds unsure* “How about I only sign you up for one instead? We’ll do that one together and I’ll do the other two alone.”

Junior: “Wha…? Why are you signing up for three in the first place?”

Marvel: “Because why not?”

Junior: “Dude, that’s not normal.”

Marvel: “Of course it is! Mr. Batman sir hasn’t ever said anything.”

Junior: “That doesn’t mean it’s normal.”

Batman: “He is right. Signing up for three missions in a row, leaving earth for occasionally months at a time isn’t normal for anyone besides Green Lanterns. Captain, when was the last time you haven’t signed up for the latest mission and instead relaxed?”

Marvel: “I don’t know… but I do relax! Every single minute of me not being a hero is me relaxing!”

Junior: “Is it though…?”

Billy still ended up signing himself up for the three missions. Freddy decided to join him on the other two as well, so he wouldn’t be leaving his new buddy alone.

(Also, I’m sorry, but I had to just sneak in that little itty-bitty piece of Dad Marvel)