#and it turned out to be a really nice walk

[bunnis-monsters]

NSFW

a/n: a 2k word kofi reward featuring megalodon shark!hybrid smut.

You hadn’t been planning on going on a cruise, but when you won a ticket through a raffle, you didn’t want to give up your chance for some real rest and relaxation.

Work had been beyond stressful lately, and you were ready to sit by the pool and sip cocktails until you were plastered.

Unfortunately, things don’t always seem to go the way you envision them to.

The first two days were amazing, filled with great food and some fun under the sun. You felt rejuvenated, and for a while you really thought that you’d be able to go back to work as a whole new person.

But on the third night you were walking back from the bar and decided to lean over the railing, the salty wind blowing through your hair. It was nice, you were happy.

That was until you saw it.

Something shifted under the dark, choppy waves, the hint of something dark and gray beginning to emerge. At first you just assumed it was just your imagination. After all, you have been told that people start to hallucinate when they stare into the dark for too long.

But when the thing rose higher, causing the ship to rock slightly… that’s when you realized whatever it was, it was completely real.

Everything happened so fast. A voice came onto the intercom, saying something you couldn’t comprehend. You were too focused on the giant creature appearing before you, dark eyes landing on your form.

It was looking at you.

Terror shook your very being, causing you to nearly vomit in fear. Your hands gripped the railing tightly, your eyes wide and tears forming in the corners.

It was too dark to make out its form exactly, but you could see the glint of large, sharp teeth and that was enough to have your soul attempting to leave your body.

With a loud creak, it leaned against the ship, sending you flying off the side and into the dark depths below.

You woke up feeling rather… warm. Sunlight beamed down onto your skin, something cold lapping at your feet waking you.

Certainly that had been a bad dream and you were at home with your pet licking your feet to get you up and ready to make their breakfast…

But when you opened your eyes, you were reminded of reality.

The dark figure from the night before was hovering over you, the waves it created from rising out of the water lapping at your feet. The night before you hadn’t been able to make out its appearance, but now everything was horribly clear.

Before you was some sort of human and shark hybrid. Its eyes were beady, staring down at you like a predator glares at its prey. Scars covered its soft looking torso and muscular arms, his lower body resembling a shark’s tail.

But the feature that scared you the most, the one that had you crying in fear the night before was his set of razor sharp teeth, nearly the size of your arm.

You flinched when he lowered his head to sniff you, unable to even move. Was this it? You were going to be eaten by some strange, undiscovered beast before you had ever gotten the chance to truly live your life the way you wanted…

Years of working for a company you hated flashed through your mind, tears forming in your eyes. Only this time it was tears of fear, but of frustration. All that time wasted on making money to get by, but never truly making enough to live.

Preparing for the worst, you squeezed your eyes shut and turned your head. Your only hope was that it would be kind enough to kill you before tearing into your flesh…

Though, after waiting several moments, the only thing you felt was the creature’s soft breaths fanning over your body as it continued to sniff you. Its arms laid on either side of you… and it made some strange growling sound.

Soon, you opened your eyes when a wet sensation on your lower belly caused you to yelp. Oh god, it was eating you!

“N-no, don’t-“

But your cries of fear changed into a moan when he began licking further down.

No, he didn’t want to eat you… he wanted to eat you out.

His massive tongue made easy work of your clit, the very top of it pushing into your cunt and making you cum quickly.

After a while of this, he stared down at you, tilting his head before sinking back into the water. You were left feeling… confused.

While he was gone, you explored your surroundings. You were stuck on a small island, with only a few fruit trees and some birds as company.

You knew that some fruit wouldn’t keep you fed for long, but at least the shade provided some reprieve from the burning sun. If it hadn’t been for that, you would have shriveled up in the heat like a raisin.

The creature/shark guy returned as the moon began to rise over the sky. In his jaws he carried a wooden chest. He dropped it at your feet, nudging it closer to you through the sand.

“What’s this?” you asked, kneeling down to open it up. The chest held various meats and fish, enough to feed you for a while. “Oh… thank you.”

Your gratitude made him perk up, his tail wagging furiously and flinging sand everywhere. He lowered his head, nudging you gently before settling down in the water to watch you cook. It seemed he took great pride in the fact he provided a good meal for you.

As you ate your cooked meat, he slowly reached out his webbed hand, lightly rubbing at your chubby belly. You were too cute, all soft and fat, he wanted to keep you that way. It would ensure you’d produce healthy shark pups, and the very thought of your belly swollen and round during your pregnancy had his hard cock slipping out of his slit.

It was pure instinct. You were plump and well fed, meaning breeding you was the best course of action. He hadn’t found a female megalodon hybrid all mating season, and part of him wondered if he was the last of his kind.

“Soft…”

You were surprised when he spoke, his voice gravely and deep. It could almost shake the ground, and as he pulled you onto his own soft belly, you realized he was… aroused.

His cock was as thick as your arm, and nearly double the size. It would fit with some work… but just barely.

You didn’t know this though, your eyes wide with shock as he pushed the head against your cunt. “H-hey, that’s way too big! It’s not gonna-“

He paused, his black eyes glimmered. “Forgot. Need to get wet.”

He spread your legs apart, keeping them open as his thumb nudged at your clit. His hands were so big, his pinky was enough to stretch you out.

As he pumped his pinky in and out of you, slick started to pool between your legs. It felt so embarrassingly good, you struggled to keep yourself from cumming immediately.

When he considered you stretched out enough, he positioned the head of his cock at your entrance, nudging the hole before pushing in.

Nothing, not anything could have prepared you for the painful stretch as he bottomed out inside of you. Your legs were pushed as far as they could go, and you cried out in pain.

“G-gonna break me,” you babbled, watching your tummy bulge. “It’s t-too big..!”

But he seemed to lost in his own pleasure to hear you, fucking into your tight hole as you whined and squirmed. After a moment though, the pain shifted into a blinding pleasure.

Being stretched out so perfectly felt too good. He groaned into your ear, bouncing you up and down on his cock, using you like a fleshlight.

When his cum spurted into you, the thick, white ropes felt so warm it almost burned. You were filled up completely, gushing his cum even as he pulled out.

He was obsessed with how soft and squishy you were, especially after you had been filled with cum. The megalodon hybrid curled up in the shallows with you, letting you rest on his belly as he kissed your chubby cheeks.

Days turned into weeks, and after two months went by, your belly started to swell. Oh how he doted over you once it was clear you were pregnant.

“Eat, eat,” he’d coo, offering you yet another fish. “Baby needs it.”

Your tits swelled with milk after a bit, and he was fascinated by how sensitive they became. When he buried his cock inside of you at night, he’d take one of your nipples into his mouth and suckle a bit, teasing you… but not maliciously. No, he wanted to spoil and pamper his precious mate.

When you grew closer to your due date, your lover became clingy, never leaving your side for long.

You gave birth to a single, adorable shark pup… and he was excited to put another one in you as soon as possible.

About two years passed, and you had grown used to living on that little island. In the morning you collected fruit, watered your various plants that had been collected by the megalodon hybrid, then you would walk to the shoreline and wait.

“Mama!”

One of your little ones toddled out of the waves, his little legs struggling through the sand before he reached you. He hugged your legs, letting out a little purr as you ruffled his hair.

“H-hey, no fair! Mama, me too!”

Your oldest called for you from the water. He had a tail like his father, and couldn’t leave the ocean. “Shh, shh, I’m coming, baby. You know I wouldn’t leave you out.”

You waddled into the waves, being careful due to your pregnancy. Your other son joined you in the water, both cooing over your belly.

“Mama, when will the baby come?”

“Mmm… it’ll be at least a month or so.”

The younger one splashed his brother, causing them to dip under the waves and play. You laughed, spotting a dark shape coming from the deep.

Your lover emerged from the ocean, your two sons giggling and climbing up his back then jumping back into the water. He was a very patient father, letting them use him as a jungle gym as much as they wanted.

“Eat.”

He dropped another catch onto the shore, his eyes soft as he admired the extra weight you had put on over the last few years. His fingers traced your stretch marks, a smile on his lips.

“Again? I’m still full from lunch.”

But he was persistent, nudging you towards your fire pit so you’d cook. “Okay, okay, I’m going.”

Your youngest toddled around the beach, playing with shells and blowing raspberries at his older brother as he sat in your lap by the fire. The two were always bickering, but you made sure to spend equal time with them.

As the sun set, the kiddos drifted off to sleep on a nearby reef as you and your lover kissed. “Mmm… getting big.”

You yawned, cockwarming him as he toyed with your sensitive nipples. He quite enjoyed how much softer you were now, even more so than when he first met you.

It felt nice, having him guide your hips over him, feeling his cock twitch inside of you. Being stuffed full of his cum had become addicting, and you needed to be bred almost every night to be satisfied.

You were sure that you’d continue having his shark pups well into the future. After all, he took very good care of you, always bringing gifts and yummy foods to keep you from losing that softness he loved so much.

In the morning, you’d start the day over. Although sometimes you missed the life you lived before all of this, you were content being bred and kept as his sweet little mate on that peaceful island.

NSFW TAGLIST: @avalordream @icommitwarcrimes @bazpire @im-eating-rn @anglingforlevels @kinshenewa @pasteldaze @yoongiigolden @peachesdabunny @murder-hobo @leiselotte @misswonderfrojustice @dij-ology @i8kaeya @lollboogurl @h3110-dar1in9 @keikokashi @aliceattheart @mssmil3y @namjoons-t1ddies @izarosf1833 @healanette @lem-hhn @spufflepuff @honey-crypt @karljra @zyettemoon1800 @exodiam @vexillum-moeru @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @enchantedsylveon @mysticranger575 @readeryn68 @danielle143 @kittenlover614 @filthybunny420 @annavittoria-mm @makimamybelovedwife @blubearxy @omglovelylaila @toocollectionchaos-universe-blog @fruk-you-usuk-fans @wil10wthetree @hammerhead96-blog @slightlyusedfloormat @bubblez-blop @sunshineangel-reads @heroneki-neko @soapybabyboop @anonymouskiwi

[daemonbrain]

"One of me is cute but two though!"

2.4k, cw: breeding kink, smut, not proofread

a/n: based off Juno by Sabrina Carpenter hehe happy reading :)

Simon would go to the ends of the earth for his bird. You wanted to watch your favorite movie for the millionth time with him? Done. You were craving take out from that special spot across town in the middle of the night? He’s placing your order and grabbing his keys to go pick it up after a quick goodbye kiss. You wanted him to kill a little red-haired prick who got too close to you -grazed your arm- yesterday at 17:37 while in a crowded line when he went to the loo, with his bare hands? Fan-tastic. (He may be projecting a little)

But he was worried. He might not be the most perceptive man, but he wasn’t so thick headed he couldn’t see the signs.

The way you made googly eyes at every baby you passed by. Fuck sakes he had never seen so. many. babies. 

Little things everywhere nowadays, though it might just be he’s now paying enough attention to notice. It definitely helped the unintentional search that your grip on his arm tightened every time you saw one. Your soft coos as you turned to him to say for a third time in a row that the babe was the “cutest thing you had ever seen”.

He loved you like he loved his gun after it got him out of a tough spot (he loved you more, but he's pretty poor at putting an example on it), but there was one thing he was wholly unsure he could give you. Being a father has never been something he was sure of, his own making his childhood a living hell assuring him that it wasn’t in his genes or anywhere in his future. He came to terms with that years ago and shoved the idea out of his mind entirely. 

As you both sat down at a coffee shop while taking a break from your park walk, you just happened to get seated right next to another woman, a stroller in your direct view.

Fuckin’ great.

Biting your lip you take a peek at the chubbiest little thing in a deep sleep. Catching the gaze of the mother you smile. “She’s adorable” you chirped. 

As the mother responded with a smile of her own, Simon felt a foot gently nudging his leg as gave him the prettiest eyes. Did you even try to hide it anymore? No, you really didn’t. Eyes filled with thinly veiled intentions, eyes that said “Look how cute! Jump across this table and give me one now,” 

“Isn’t she cute Si?!”

He sighed and replied in his usual grumble, “course, ‘er little jumper is nice.” Tactics. Swiftly move out from the topic and do not let the missus see the little bows… on the jumper… he just pointed- for fucks sake you saw it.

After quite some time giggling with the mother over photos, because of course that had to be the natural progression of things, Simon observed in his characteristic shadow-like demeanor before the little one began to fuss in her sleep. The mother excused herself and the babe to nurse and it’s then you finally turn back to your silent companion with your usual beaming.

“ ‘avin fun there, yeah?” He laughed which came out more as a snort as you mockingly kicked him under the table.

“I am as a matter of fact!”

Pulling his hands into the air in surrender he looks you head on. “Okay, I get it.”

“The baby was just so- ugh! Did you see how chubby she was? Her little hair.. Gosh!” Stay on task. Do not get distracted by the target's beautiful smile or laugh. Someone had to be the voice of rationale after all.

“Like I said ‘er jumper was nice, luv.”

When the pout came to your lips, he considered it a success (you were hot either way) and chalked the whole thing as a minor bump in the road. Whatever this baby fever was would pass.

Nonetheless, he should’ve known his bird better than that. She wasn’t a quitter, that’s for damn sure. As you cooked up dinner in that cute apron and served it plated up so nicely it dawned on him just how… domestic this all was.

It was nice, he concluded. Calm.

You remained pensive and quiet for the most part during dinner, clearly desperate to say what you had been on your mind for weeks. He could see the way your mind's gears turned, wanting to blurt it out. Like an animal going feral at the bars of its cage. Except your the animal and your cage is the inherent trust you will not go awol and chuck your birth control pills into the trash while he’s not watching.

“Simon…” 

Here it comes.

Simon grunted out his response while chewing on his food, looking up to meet your cautious gaze. Leaning across the table you gently lay your hand on his which held his fork, pushing it down.

“I’ve been thinking… a lot lately.” There you went with that look again. “Have you… ever thought of kids before? I- I know we’ve had this talk before… but-”

“C’mere.”

He outstretched his big arms and patted his lap. With quick acceptance you hurried over and let him pull you on top of him, one hand on the back of his chair and the other on your ass for support. The deep kneading of it was also for support of course. 

“You know how I feel about them. ‘Is jus not somethin I think about, luvie.” He didn’t dare look away from your eyes. If he was about to take that gleam out of your eyes he at least owed it to you to watch.

You grabbed his face with a light touch and caressed the stubble which had begun to grow with a look beginning to resemble a spot of desperation. Pressing yourself further into his body, you couldn’t help your protests.

“Si.. I just- I want one so bad.” You began to slide your hand down the side of his neck, pressing forward to gently place a kiss. Leaning your forehead in the junction between his shoulder and neck you continued before he could respond.

“Don’t you? A little baby with us all the time.”

Someone had to be the voice of reason and Simon was going to have to put his foot down on this.

“You’re not thinkin straigh’, luv. It would be cute-” He was cut off in shock as he felt the slight rock of your hips as you cowered into his shoulder.

“Just imagine it! One of me is cute enough, but two!” The pace began to speed up as you blatantly started grinding against him. He let out a little huff. Voice of reason. Though his reason was nowhere to be found when he put his hand that was idly on the chair to your backside to encourage the movement.

You knew what came next, you had to sweeten the pot. You knew you were being mean, but you just had to! You were practically given no choice!

“Don’t you want that Si! Don’t you wanna make something together?” You all but pleaded. He looked straight past your head with a crumbling steely demeanor. Fuck.

You already began to tug at his shirt and with a final glare, Simon couldn’t help but look at his pretty bird. His pretty bird on top of the prize she coveted, heat passing between their bodies. Just one time. One time and then they could talk about this properly. 

Simon gathered you up in his arms and stood while pressing an eager kiss to your lips. It was a soft and long thing as he brought you both to the bedroom you shared. He threw you down on the bed and stripped himself as you excitedly did the same.

Smiling up at him as if you won. You did not win. This was not a win, right? You were on your birth control either way, he would pull out as needed. What harm is there in fucking his own girl.

Pushing you on to your back he parted your legs to look what lay between them. There was the prize he was most proud of. Puffy cunt at the mercy of the cool air being pushed out by the vents. You were already beginning to shine.

“You were just waiting for it weren’t you? Knew I couldn’t leave you hanging, yeah?”

With a giggle you spread your thighs further and wiggled your hips teasingly. Simon dropped to his knees and pulled your body to the edge of the bed. Throwing each of your legs on either of his shoulders he spit into your cunt, taking two thick fingers and rubbing it in, catching on to your hole lightly as he played with the slick. He could see the way your stomach tightened as he circled your clit and he winded you up further when he firmly flicked it.

“Si” you whined.

“Wha’ is it?” He grinned as he lowered his head to press a kiss down. Devolving from a kiss, he grabbed onto one of your thighs with a strong grip and began to sloppily lick while you let out your breathy little moans, sensitive to the absolute tank holding you still as he ate straight from the source.

He licked and it just kept going. Dragging his tongue around your cunt, up to your puffy clit. He harshly sucked as he latched on to it drawing a cry from your vulnerable form. Tugging at his hair, he only looks up with his eyes, refusing to pull away his mouth. 

Shaking your head with wide eyes you couldn’t help but push your fluffy little agenda.

“Si please. Please. Please, I need it! I’d never ask for anything else-” you moaned in surprise once again as he added a finger into your hole. Willing himself to pull away from you, Simon continued to fuck his finger into you as he spoke up, spittle and slick coating his mouth. He had to switch gears, use logic (and cum) to deter you.

“We’d never have time. All this?-” He added another finger into your clenching pussy “Gone. We’d be cleaning spit up instead.”

“We’d have a baby!” You exclaimed insistently.

You were practically off the edge, usually by now Simon had you fucked into your own little world. This incessant begging for a little one of your own is keeping you sharper than usual. He’d fix that.

“Please Simon” You pulled him up, the strain of his cock to be inside you encouraging him to follow your movements. He looked at you pretty tits, pretty like everything else on you. Taking a nipple between his fingers and rolling hard.

“These’d get all full.”

Fuck that backtracked his own point. His mind fighting back the onslaught of thoughts at the sight of your tits growing round and heavy because of something he could do. Would your body get all soft- NO.

Lining himself up and looking at that pleading expression, the only time he’d ever seen you so wanting of something you were willing to roll around with nothing else on your mind.

“Just one Si, just one with your eyes your nose your hair-” Your breath went short as he pushed himself in, giving shallow thrusts to feed into your aching cunt. Recomposing yourself you gripped on to his bicep, “Just do it, lock me down tonight.”

Simon couldn’t help the way he subconsciously began pushing your thighs up to give himself a deeper angle, your ankles dangling weightlessly above your head, knees to your chest. The groans which sounded through the room as his hips hammered into you in a desperate chase. 

The two of you could do nothing but stare into each other's eyes, losing yourselves in each other while your cunt squeezes him like a vice. Determined to keep him there, body obstinately stuck on one thing.

 Someone had to be the voice of reason. Someone had to object to a little one with his eyes and your personality. Someone had to be rational and not think about painting the nursery while you waddled about. Someone had to remain level-headed and not imagine the way your eyes would light up with unfettered joy.

You tossed your head back and he couldn’t help but grip your face in his hand, tugging it right back to him.

“With me luv, with me. Look at me.”

Someone had to be rational.

Nodding your head shakily you keep your eyes on the massive man pounding away at you, feeling the way your stomach bulges trying to accommodate all of him, your cunt coaxing him further into the sticky trap.

Your body begging for one thing, you looked like you needed it. Tongue lolling out of your mouth as you were fucked stupid, sweat collecting on your brow. You looked perfect. Your whining swallowed by his own mouth when he presses another kiss to your swollen lips, body enduring in hopes the fat cock ruthlessly disturbing its peace would grant it the big load it craved.

Someone had to be rational?

Maybe it was the way you sucked him in, the way he couldn’t stop thrusting into you, but it’s as if your body sent some message to the receptors in his mind. All that flashed before him images of happy and full and with his baby.

As if you could sense his thoughts, your own peak quickly overcame you white hot. The way you spasmed around him with a loud cry of pure ecstasy.

“Give it to me!” You somehow managed. His mind went blank as drunk off the pleasure as you were, the only thing he could do was thrust, unable to comprehend anything else.

 A shame Simon couldn’t be rational when it came to his bird.

With the final slam of his hips, his release went into the deepest depths of you. His grip on your hips burning from how tight it was as he kept himself flush against you.

It took a few moments to come down from the high. Simon looked at your sweaty face, hazy from lack of energy. Maybe you did win this one, but he really didn't get all this effort (not that he was complaining) if you were still on birth control.

Birth control... which he hasn't had to remind you to take for quite some time...

Out of pure curiosity at his realization, he gently pushed the two of you further up the bed while keeping you plugged up. Opening the first drawer he manages to grab the box which contained your birth control pills. Upon further inspection, he notices it remains unopened and untouched. Shaking his head with a gruff laugh he peers down at you as you shiver from the rumble.

“Dirty girl”

You just smiled.

[sweetfictionalworld]

Good Girl

Pairing: Hwang In-ho / Front Man x Female Reader

Warnings: Nsfw, Smut, Daddy Kink, Age-gap.

Requested by anon: Request for just some old fashion smut?? In-ho x fem!Reader. Maybe some age gap, praise,...daddy kink...just an idea.

Summary: You're a servant for the VIPs. One of them is getting a little too close, and The Front Man steps in and handles the situation. Little do you know, The Front Man wants you for himself...

Author's notes: I'm always a sucker for some good, old fashion daddy kink 😉 Thank you so much for your request! I hope you like it ♡

It wasn't easy serving the VIPs, but it was a chance for you to make some more money. It was your third time at the games working as one of the circle guards and your second time as a waiter. The higher ranks made more money than you, but you didn't have the stomach for killing. It was bad enough to clean up the scene after a game.

You examined yourself in the mirror before putting on the black mask. You didn't really feel comfortable in the black, lace bodysuit and high heels you were forced to wear. The VIPs were always a little too touchy for your comfort, but it was something you had to endure.

You took a deep breath before you entered the VIP room with a tray of drinks in your hand.

"Well, look who it is! Our hot, little bunny!" the older man in the tiger mask cheered as you walked into the room. The other VIPs joined in and you could feel their gazes glued to your body as you walked past them.

"The game will start momentarily."

The Front Man's voice made you turn, your stomach flipping at the sight of him in his dark-grey outfit and black mask. There was something about him you found utterly attractive. Perhaps, it was the mystery of what he looked underneath that mask? Or maybe, it was that dark, sexy voice of his?

"Come here, bunny! I want a drink!" yelled the man in the tiger mask. Pulled out of your thoughts, you went over to the VIP. He smiled up at you from beneath his mask.

"Damn, I've missed this fine ass!" he bellowed and slapped your ass, boomed with laughter when you gasped and nearly dropped your tray.

"Why don't you serve the others and then you come back to sit next to me, huh? I want my little bunny close to me," he grinned.

You were glad he couldn't see the repulsive expression on your face. After doing what he said, you returned to the VIP, who pulled you down next to him.

"How old are you, bunny?" he asked, licking his lips as his eyes traveled down to your breasts.

"25, Sir."

"Oh, nice...I like my meat young and firm. How about you serve me personally now, huh?" The VIP chuckled and roughly cupped your tit. You let out a shocked gasp and grabbed his wrist to try and pull him away. You struggled against him, but it only seemed to spur him on.

The VIP chuckled loudly. "I like girls who are a little fiesty."

Suddenly, his hand was pulled away and you stared up at the Front Man standing there with the VIPs arm in his hand.

"No sexual activities unless the servants agrees. The Host's rules. Do you agree, number 5?" he asked, turning his attention towards you.

You stared at him in surprise. He knew your guard number?

You shook your head. "No, Sir."

The Front Man let go of the VIPs arm. "You heard her. She doesn't want you. So, how about we return to what you're really here for. The Game."

The VIP glared at him but knew there was nothing he could do to but obey the Host's rules, so he just nodded.

"Good." The Front Man returned his attention to you.

"Stand up, number 5."

You did as he ordered, holding your gaze to the floor. His intimidating presence and the closeness of his body made you feel so very small and subservient. He lifted your chin, holding it with his forefinger and you stared up at his blank, black mask while holding your breath.

"Continue serving them food and drinks. He won't bother you anymore."

"Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir," you whispered and bowed.

In-ho watched as you walked away to get more food and drinks, his gaze panning down to the roundness of your ass. There was another reason he had stopped the VIP. He didn't want your pussy ruined by that old man's cock before he fucked you himself.

The game was over for this time and the VIPs had left. You remained in the room, tidying the last things up before it was time to leave and return home. The money you'd made after your third time was enough to pay off your debts. You didn't have to return for another game.

"You're still here."

Startled by the voice, you looked up and stared at the Front Man, your eyes widening when you realized you'd taken your mask off.

"Don't worry. The game is over for this time. No need to cover our faces. Besides, there's only you and I here," he said and took off his mask.

You stared at him as he approached you with a small smirk playing on his lips. He was a handsome man, no doubt about it, maybe in his fifties. His dark-brown eyes had a twinkle of cruelness and playfulness in them that made your belly flutter as his gaze traveled down your body.

"Do you agree?"

At first you frowned, didn't know what he meant. Then, it dawn on you and your eyes widened as you stared at him breathlessly and nodded.

"I need you to say it."

"Y-Yes, Sir. I agree."

"Good girl." The Front Man smirked and leaned down to your ear, inhaling your scent. A growl of appreciation rumbled in his chest, and the sound along with his hot breath on your skin caused a trail of goosebumps down your body. You couldn't believe this was happening, couldn't believe how quickly your body was responding to his touch. The Front Man's finger slid down the nape of your neck, sending another wave of goosebumps down your skin. A keen whimper slipped from your lips and you became shamefully aware of the arousal pooling between your thighs. The Front Man growled at the sound coming from your lips, his hand landing on your waist.

"I can see your arousal in your eyes, little one," he growled, digging his fingers into the soft flesh of your hips, coaxing an embarrassed moan from your lips.

His hand found its way underneath your lace bodysuit, two of his long fingers slipping between your soft folds and into your wet, spongy core. You gasped and grabbed his arms as his fingers stretched you out.

"So wet and tight," Front Man mumbled and started moving his fingers inside you, grunting at the squishing sounds your pussy was making. His cock jerked at the feeling of your wetness, twitching, and hardening to life, eager to fill your tight, little cunt to the brim.

"Oh fuck," you gasped at the feeling of his fingers thrusting into you.

"Such foul words coming from such a sweet, little thing," Front Man chuckled, the sound vibrating through your core. "Tell me, little one...Do you crave my cock inside you?" At the last word, he pushed his fingers deeper inside you, pushing against your g-spot and you screamed out in pleasure.

"Y-Yes Daddy! Please, yes!" you whimpered, tears welling up in your eyes as he repeatedly thrust his fingers into you at a rapid pace.

"Daddy, huh? I like that," Front Man smirked and took out his fingers from your pussy. "Undress for me."

Cheeks flushed with heat, you obeyed him and pulled down the straps of your bodysuit, slowly wriggling out of the tiny piece of clothing, leaving you naked in only your high heels.

"Gorgeous," was all he said and kneaded the soft flesh of your tits, felt the weight of them in his hands, and rubbed his thumbs across your nipples that hardened at his touch.

"P-Please, Daddy...," you begged, bit your lip at the feeling of your pussy aching and clenching desperately to be filled.

Front Man snickered. "So desperate for Daddy's cock, aren't you?"

"Y-Yes...please Daddy..."

He chuckled at your desperation. "Get down on your hands and knees."

You obeyed on trembling legs, gasped when he grabbed your hips with both hands, pulling your ass up in the air. Then, you heard the unzipping of his slacks and felt him at your entrance, slowly pushing the bulbous head between your fold and into the tight hole of your pussy. Your eyes widened, breath coming out in short gasps through your parted lips.

In-ho groaned in pleasure when the head of his cock suddenly popped inside your warm, wet entrance. At that point, he couldn't control himself anymore. Grabbing your hips harder, he bucked his hips against your ass, pushing his cock into you halfway before pulling back.

You cried out, back arching and head thrown back as his cock stretched you out more than you thought was possible. Then, he thrust forward again and you screamed a silent moan, realizing he had only been halfway inside you and he was now fully seated in your womb.

"Feels so good...you're doing so well, little one, taking Daddy's cock," he crooned, almost lovingly, as he started a slow and gentle pace of fucking you. Your vision got blurrier with each of his thrusts, sending wave after wave of pleasure through your body. Soon, your mind became dazed and numbed, and a smile spread across your lips when all you cared about was how absolutely divine his cock felt inside you. You could feel the pressure building in your core with each thrust, bringing you closer and closer to orgasm. Then, Front Man suddenly pulled out and you whined at the loss of contact, of feeling so empty inside.

Front Man positioned himself above you, on his hands and feet as he pushed inside you again, his frame hovering above yours as he thrust into you. You moaned when he pushed back into you again, smiled as you looked up at him over your shoulder. You looked into his eyes and held his gaze as he quickened the pace once more, rapidly shoving his dick inside you over and over until your senses were overflowing.

Front Man looked back into your eyes as he slammed into you hard and fast, rougher with each thrust. The slapping sounds filled the room, blending with your high-pitched moans and the Front Man's grunts above you. The pressure in your belly intensified and finally erupted just as you felt the Front Man pump into you a final time, burying himself deep inside you as he came. His cock twitched inside you and the feeling of his seed pulsing into you brought you swiftly over the edge.

"Daddy, I'm coming!" you cried out, your pussy clenching and milking every last drop out of him as your orgasm rippled through your body.

"Fuck!" Front Man groaned and threw his head back, his loud, guttural growl echoing between the walls as he emptied the last of his seed inside your belly. You collapsed onto the floor, panting for air and your body becoming limp as you felt his cum flow out of you.

In-ho stood above you with a smirk on his lips, watching as his cum created a white river on the floor between your thighs.

"You're mine now," he muttered quietly and out of breath as he picked up your exhausted body and laid you down on one of the VIP couches. You smiled tiredly and looked up at him through heavy eyelids.

"Yours, Daddy. Forever."

[nanenna]

“Then don’t,” Kon replied simply. He threw himself back into the grass, his legs getting thrown in the air before plopping back down to earth. He tucked one hand behind his head and used the other to point up at the sky. “See those three stars in a row?”

The person was silent for a moment before hesitantly answering, “Yeah?”

“That’s Orion’s belt. It’s one of the easiest constellations to find in the northern hemisphere.”

“Just those three stars?”

“Well those two are his shoulders and those two are his hips or knees or something,” Kon said conversationally as he pointed out said stars. “There’s more to it, but I can’t remember the rest.” He glanced over at his stargazing companion, they seemed just a little less see through, glowing a little bit brighter. Guess he did a good job distracting them. He went on to point out the big and little dipper, complete with Polaris. He didn’t know many of the constellations, just some of what Tim had taught him for navigating. Finding which way was north was really useful, if you can find north you can also find east and west.

Kon glanced over again to see his companion’s eyes had drifted closed, their face peaceful. That seemed weird, if they were already dreaming were they dreaming they were asleep?

Wait, were they getting more see-through?

Slowly, bit by bit, they were definitely getting more see through, until all that was left behind was a barely there indent in the grass. Kon put his hand to it and the grass felt cold, not cool, downright cold. The only hints that someone had been there at all. This was definitely something he needed to ask his team about.

Kon gave a jaw cracking yawn.

In the morning, this would be something to ask for advice on in the morning.

✦✧✦

The next time Kon saw his mystery visitor was early evening nearly a week later. He’d prepared for this, he’d memorised all the constellations visible this time of year, several star facts, and a list of information to try to get out of them. Currently they were sitting on a split rail fence, face turned towards the setting sun, feet gently kicking the air. It was odd, watching their feet swing. On the upswing they had a full leg: pants, toes, and all. On the downswing the leg faded to nothing shortly below the knee.

Kon intentionally made noise as he walked closer, not wanting to startle his guest. “Hello again,” he called gently as he approached.

The visitor turned slowly at his voice. Their eyes opened and blinked in surprise, then a smile lit up their face. Literally lit them up. Made them look just a bit more solid too, enough that Kon could guess they looked like a kid, somewhere in their early to mid teens. Maybe. Just because a lot of aliens looked similar to humans didn’t mean they aged the same.

Kon smiled back, both happy and sad to see them again. He leaned against the top of the fence one section down from his guest. “I wasn’t expecting to see you again.”

“Neither was I, but I guess I should've.” They laughed to themself a little at that, already turning to face the sun again, their face peaceful as they basked in the warm rays.

“My name’s Kon, by the way. Kon El, he/him.”

His guest hummed in acknowledgement, though his brows furrowed in confusion near the end. “He… him…?”

“Sure, makes it easier to refer to someone by their pronouns if they’re part of introductions.”

They turned to look Kon up and down in confusion. “... okay?” They turned back to their sunbathing, little that they would have left.

“... And what should I call you?” he eventually asked.

His guest huffed a quiet little laugh before replying, eyes still closed and face turned to the sun, “Danny.” Such a strangely human sounding name. Then again a lot of names sound pretty similar, there’s only so many ways a mouth like theirs can form sounds. After a moment they tacked on, “He/him.”

Kon wasn’t sure if they- if he just copied Kon’s pronouns or if those were his actual pronouns, but until he said otherwise that’s what he was. “It’s nice to meet you, Danny.”

“Nice to meet you too, Kon.”

Kon smiled and let the silence sit for a minute. So he finally had a name, though no family name. He wasn’t sure if one would help, but Tim insisted the more information they had the easier it would be to find where Danny was from and go help him, because anyone who was afraid of waking up, anyone who needed to run so badly he could only do it in his dreams absolutely needed help.

Now to just… find ways of getting that information out of Danny without scaring him off.

He watched for a bit as the sun touched the horizon, the sky changing colors and the golden light beginning to fade. Beside him Danny opened his eyes, the light no longer too bright to watch the show.

“I’ve missed this.”

Kon just nodded, unsure what to respond to a statement like that. Instead they sat in silence, enjoying the sunset until it became dark enough for the first stars to come out. Danny leaned back, slowly floating down until he was settled against the grass and staring up at the stars.

Kon joined him on the ground, staring up at the stars. “You like space, huh?”

“Yeah, it’s pretty cool,” Danny replied nonchalantly.

“You know which star is yours?”

“No.” He sounded sad as he said it.

Time for a distraction, “So I looked up Orion and I know the rest of the constellation now.” He pointed out the rest of the stars and what shape they made, then finally asked the next question. “What about your constellations?”

“What about them? I can’t show you, they’re not here.” Danny glared up at the sky as if he could move the stars around if he just thought at them hard enough.

“So draw them for me.” Kon pulled out a tablet from his jacket. He quickly turned it on and opened it to a simple art program. When he handed it over Danny stared down at the device with huge eyes.

“What’s this?”

“A tablet. It’s… it’s like a big phone, though it doesn’t have the call function like a phone does.”

“It’s a big phone without the actual phone?” Danny sounded confused, looking the whole thing over. “Where are the buttons?”

Kon laughed, then poked the screen. “Here, it’s touch screen.”

Danny’s face turned greenish, “Oh.”

“Guess our worlds have different tech.” 

Danny was already back to looking the device over, flipping it around and checking the thickness. “This is some real Star Trek shit.”

“Star Trek?”

Danny glanced over with another amused huff. “It's a show back home, really popular.”

Kon just nodded, something else to help them look, he guessed. He quickly ran through which buttons did what and helped Danny get started. Then he just sat and watched over Danny’s shoulder as he worked.

He started by filling the whole thing in black, then making a colorful smear across the canvas, then began putting white dots of various sizes all around. It was obvious he was very familiar with his own night sky, even going so far as to draw both hemispheres. He nudged a few of the stars this way and that, had to resize the canvas a few times to make room for everything, kept adding in more stars as he remembered them, and then did something Kon didn’t expect. Danny changed the color to a bright green and started writing.

While he wasn’t sure giving the names his planet called the stars would be helpful, a written script would really help narrow things down. Tim would eat this up!

“Oh, I guess names won’t help much,” Danny said after writing a few letters.

“Doesn’t stop me from being curious,” Kon said quickly.

Danny shrugged, “It doesn’t matter.” He handed the tablet back to Kon and went back to stargazing.

Kon quickly saved the picture, then sent it to Tim. Even a few letters or hieroglyphs or whatever would be helpful. Though… Kon squinted down at the start of the label for the Milky Way. It looked… kind of like the start of the word milk? Just loopy and the letters strung together? Odd. Probably just a coincidence, right? Pareidolia, he expects the word milk so he sees it.

So he tucked the tablet back away and starts pointing out other constellations. 

DP x DC Prompt/Plotbunny #6

After days? weeks? months? years? in this mercy-forsaken lab, Danny finds himself slipping; his core straining under the weight of what he's been subjected to. In a last ditch effort to save his fracturing soul, his brain simply stops processing the pain and allows his mind to escape into a waking dream.

Danny knows it's a dream. If he thinks about it; he can still hear, see, feel the scientists at work. He doesn't think about it; instead embraces whatever false world his mind decides to concoct for him.

.

Several states away, a young boy opens his eyes to the inside of a strange pod in an abandoned lab. Though he cannot see it yet, a strange metal tag dangles from his ear, stamped on one side with the word 'CADMUS' and on the other with 'R-13'.

[3amfanfiction]

Our Girlfriend pt 2

The morning after.

You can thank @disasterofastory for this piece about the morning after you had four men in your bed. Considering you'd never spoken to two of them, how is this going to go? 1.5k little ficlet of a scene. A little bit of fluffy sweetness to even out the pure smut of the first chapter.

Part one

The bed was almost empty by the time you woke up, only you and Johnny remaining. You were curled up to his chest, listening to the steady thrum of his heart as your eyes peeled open, sticky with sleep.

You didn't move at first, just laid there content to breathe in the still morning air where nothing needed to be done. There were no deadlines to meet, no chores to complete . . . it was just you, existing.

You watched as the thick chest under your cheek raised up as he drew in the breath to speak. Your quiet morning was about to be disturbed. You held onto the few split seconds you had remaining, locking onto this peace to get you through your day.

"You awake, love?"

Because real life always came knocking.

You hummed an assent, not interested in trying to force your tongue into shapes that would make words. You felt wonderfully wrung out, with only the things occurring right this moment needing thought. There wasn't any stress about yesterday or any worry about tomorrow.

Johnny stroked along your back gently with calloused fingers, a slight tickling scratch to go along with the warm caress. It roused you enough to turn and press a kiss to the warm skin you were laying on, a non-verbal 'good morning' in place of any proper greeting.

Johnny pressed a return kiss to the crown of your head, never ceasing the running of his palm over your back. You really did love him. You knew it was fast, that people say there was no way it would last because of how quickly you two fell together but you ignored them. Johnny was something special and you were thankful he was in your life.

The sun had shifted slightly when he spoke again. "How do you feel this morning?"

As a matter of fact . . .

"Johnny." Firm. You know he'll try and wiggle his way out of an answer if he catches any hint of weakness. "What was that last night?"

He didn't respond at first. After a moment you tilted your head up to look at him. He was staring at the ceiling, a serene look on his face with a hint of a smile on his lips.

"It was nice, wasn't it? I can't believe I decided to take a nap right in the middle of it though. Don't worry, love, I'll be making it up to you." He was coming to life with every word spoken. His face more animated, fingers starting to twitch and legs rubbing together. You knew you only had a few more minutes in bed before he would be up and gone—ready to start another day.

"That wasn't what I meant and you know it. Why did they all talk like we were dating? What have you been telling them?"

"Nothing that wasn't true, I promise." He turned to look beseechingly into your eyes, ensuring you saw the truth in what he was saying. "I told them about you, of course. How amazing you were—always looking out for me, being so understanding, not taking any of my shite." He grinned at the last one, ever amused by your backbone, "and they fell in love with you, just like I did. And then you went and showed me that you loved them back and I couldn't let it go. I had to bring the four of you together."

Immediately you clocked what he meant. "Johnny MacTavish, those muffins weren't—they didn't mean—" How could you even begin to explain away this misunderstanding? Especially after what happened last night? You didn't get any further before the bedroom door opened.

"Good morning, sleeping beauties," Kyle beamed as he walked in holding two coffee cups. "You two finally ready to join the rest of us?"

Oh shit. The rest of them.

How are you going to face them? You'd never even properly met two of them and you let them into your bed. You'd let the man standing in the doorway come in your mouth last night. You've never even spoken to him.

All of a sudden you found yourself tongue-tied, unable to do anything more than mumble a shy thank you as you were handed your cup of coffee. Starting to sit up you realized you were still completely naked under the blanket and looked around self-consciously for a shirt to pull on.

Kyle saw slight panic in your eyes and grabbed a t-shirt off the floor. It was the one Simon had worn last night. You thought about putting up a fuss, asking for one of your own but in the end you graciously accepted, more worried about being covered in the bold light of day than worrying about who's shirt you wore.

Comfortably covered once more you turned to face the two men, looking at you with differing shades of the same smile. You felt around the corners of your mouth and eyes to make sure there weren't any lingering crusties before you took a sip of your coffee. Your eyes widened and darted up to Kyle's face.

"Johnny hasn't stopped talking about you since he you met. Any one of us could make your drink with our eyes closed by now," he teased gently, good-natured mirth shining through his warm eyes. "I hope you don't mind, we took liberties with your kitchen. Cap and Simon are finishing breakfast right now. Well," he allowed with a small shrug, "The captain is, Simon isn't allowed near the stove. Not unless you want a bit of char on your food."

"You didn't have to do all that, here let me . . . " You worked to pull yourself from the bed without spilling your coffee or flashing anyone. "Let me get dressed and I'll be down. They're guests, they shouldn't be cooking." Of all the things. You didn't truly mind the thought of them in your kitchen but it felt like you should protest on principle. When you stood up your hips gave a worrying twinge and you braced yourself against the mattress. Yeah, maybe you should just leave them be after all.

It was embarrassing how quickly Johnny and Kyle were at your side, clearly no worse for wear after the night you all had. You'd like to see them jump up like that after having their hips spread around another's torso. Not so easy then, huh?

Waving them off exasperatedly you gingerly left the room and headed for the kitchen. You walked in just in time to see John swatting at Simon, shooing him away from the stove where he had picked up a spatula and was attempting to stir the eggs. You must have made some sort of noise because both men turned to look at you, freezing as they took you in. Standing in the kitchen with bare legs and Simon's black t-shirt, Kyle and Johnny clustered behind you, you must have made quite the sight. John was the first to come to his senses, pushing the utensil back into Simon's hand distractedly and walking over to you.

"Good morning, sweetheart." He looked you up and down, "we weren't too rough with you last night, I hope?" he questioned with a raised brow, his soft-looking mustache bristling with the movement of his mouth. It twitched while he waited for your answer—worried but fighting not to show it.

"I'm good," you reassured, "Better than, even." You smiled sweetly up at him, enjoying watching the tension leave his face, the little furrow between his brow disappearing. It almost startled you, how fond you were of these men. It was strange.

You didn't know the exact shade of blue John's eyes were but you knew he needed reading glasses if it was late at night and he was still working on paperwork. You'd never seen the way the hair curled at the nape of his neck but you knew he liked deep-tissue massages after tough missions.

So strange. You knew them intimately and as strangers all at once, a unique dichotomy to be in. You wondered if they felt the same way. They knew how you took your coffee and what you would normally make for yourself for breakfast. Was it so hard to believe they were in the same boat as you? That they knew you as deeply as you knew them?

You found it was easy to fall into their orbit. All of them drifting around the others in ever-changing patterns. Present but not suffocating.

They liked to keep a hand on you though, for all that they gave each other room to breathe. They would take turns standing beside you after you took a seat—a hand placed low on your back as they came in for a kiss or moving over to hold your hand while they spoke about anything under the sun.

You laughed when the eggs Simon had been tasked to look over had to be tossed out after smoke started wafting from the pan. The happy peals doing more to settle the men than you knew, because hadn't you realized? They were already falling for you too.

Next

[snoopyhq]

Jealous viktor + reader 🙏

˚ ♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ so with my best, my very best, i set you free

(i love laufey 🗣️ her cover of "i wish you love" with the icelandic orchestra? 2:49 of heaven)

type: viktor x reader

summary: headcanons and a drabble of jealous viktor. headcanons are pre-relationship, the drabble is the established relationship ✪ ꨄ︎

word count: 2415

a/n: OMG FIRST ASK I'M SO HONORED I'M SO EXCITED YIPPEE !!! will be working on the others whenever i have the time, but TRUST i am plotting and scheming <3 any other askers, feel free to drop by! i hope i did your request justice, dear anon.

It was unfair to you, and to him, in his most miserable moments of pure self-pity

Viktor envied those who were healthy. He wished he wasn't born with the circumstances he was dealt. He would trade anything to spend one day with a respiratory system that didn't choke him from the inside out every time he took a breath

He was jealous of you, initially, when you first met

You seemed to have it so easy

Easy laughter, easy conversation, easy friends. You had an established life, you were loved, and you held yourself together with such ease that he sometimes wonders how much you're really holding back

He feels bad for assuming you were dealing with awful problems. But it was very likely. I mean, who was truly that... happy? Well off? At ease with themself and their role in the world? He was probably projecting

And then you somehow, by all the miracles a human could possibly be granted, managed to worm your way into his life and secure yourself there too

Viktor vehemently rejected you at first. He was much like a stray cat. You just gotta continuously give them love on their own terms, and often times, it was slow, and that concept applied to Viktor too

It started with small things. Brief greetings where you called him by name

"Good morning, Viktor."

"Nice to see you here today, Viktor."

"Viktor, you have a good night ok? Get home safe."

Including him in conversations. Commentary about how you two just happened to be in the same place at the same time. The library, a cafe, randomly in the middle of a bustling street

You always had that breezy way of acknowledging things. What a nice coincidence. It was all genuine

You were pleased to be surprised by his presence

Wordlessly holding the door for him, even if you really didn't have to wait. But it was never a big deal, so

He pushed it away. Brushed it off, and tried to forget about it, but those little moments kept circling through his mind like an irritating tape he couldn't dislodge from the disc player, and turning the TV off wasn't doing shit when those scenes were basically burned onto the screen

Like the natural progression of the lunar cycle, Viktor found himself unconsciously expecting you in his life

He can't remember a time when you weren't

Your greetings, your little gestures of kindness, that skill of small talk that meant so, so much to him were cherished like an altar of worship

While he was in no way, shape, or form completely opening himself up to befriending any more people, he began to feel much more natural with you and others you gave your time to

Which brought him to his current bit of emotional turbulence

That prickling in his chest whenever he saw you with other people, giving them your precious words and quality time? Yeah, he shouldn't be feeling this

You were allowed to have other friends! You had people in your life before him, and it doesn't mean you consider him any less just because you spent a moment or two with someone else!

He would tighten his grip on his cane, those mantras feverishly chanting in his mind as he walked in circles, attempting to reign his emotions into a more rational state

He had no right to feel jealous like this, but he couldn't help it

Jayce was his only real companion before, and now that he was a council member, he had less time for Viktor. He had the city to nurture and shape, a big responsibility. The loneliness of the lab was barely a noticeable shift from before

Now, you arrived as if by careless chance, giving him another glimpse, another hit of company, and it was maddeningly cruel to have those doses be in such short time frames

He was given what he needed and wanted, but never fully

Accepting that reality was going to be harder than accepting you truly wishing to be around him, in all his sardonic glory, his blunt nature that had most other people walking away. Just not you

To grapple with this selfish desire was humiliating

He was fully aware of how innately human it all was. If only it were easier. Someday.

For now, he would wait and bask in all the attention and friendship you offered him so willingly

You stood in front of your mirror, going over your carefully put together look one last time. You wanted to look good, and having the outfit fall into place like how you planned it in your head always gave you an extra boost of happiness before you left the house. Straightening the collar of your top one last time, you were finally satisfied.

Viktor was waiting for you in the living room. He stood up when you finally appeared, greeting you with a kiss to your cheek and a murmured "You look enchanting, as always."

You laughed and hugged him.

"And you're dashing, as per usual."

With your arm linked through his, the two of you went on your way. He had planned the date tonight. The winding route led to the sparkling, five-tiered fountain that marked the center of the shopping fair. The flowing water sparkled and danced beneath the fairy lights strung through the evergreens surrounding the space, and orchestral music floated up from where the quintet performed.

You two often went here after a long, stressful week, dining at one of the outdoor tables and idly chatting before hitting a couple stores. Most of the time, it would be the bookshop, the local woodcarver, and then the bakery. You had made it a tradition to buy one another a sweet treat, and it was always a delight to see if your guesses of enjoyment would be met or not.

There was certainly not a lack of other people around you, many of whom were also hand in hand. The center was a popular spot for local students and couples to unwind and spend time together.

When you both had your fill of sights and perusing your respective comforts, you made your way back to the fountain. The musicians had struck up a lively waltz, and many were dancing along now. Both of you shared a look, and moved to join in, albeit towards the edge of the crowds.

Dancing with Viktor was one of your favorite activities. He moved with such assuredness and care for your space, making him all the more captivating in his graces. The respectful placement of his hand on your waist, never going too far and risking your discomfort in public, and never straying away lest he appeared bored, Viktor made sure you were his priority.

After the song concluded, you spun Viktor around slowly to the rhythm of the music drawing to a close, dipping him into a kiss during the final note.

His cheeks were slightly flushed, both from the exertion and from your affection.

"I'm going to grab a drink. We can head home after, if you'd like," you told him, head leaning on his shoulder as he walked with you back up the steps.

"That's perfectly fine. I can hold your bag while you do that."

Oh, Viktor. Ever the gentleman.

You went inside the establishment, and ordered yourself a shirley temple with sweet cream, fully planning to share with him. You knew he had a penchant for the more saccharine in terms of taste. While you waited to order, another patron joined you after placing their order.

"Busy place tonight, isn't it?" they commented.

You turned your attention to them, surprised a stranger was making conversation with you, but you didn't mind. All harmless small talk, after all. You would be leaving soon anyways when your order was finished, so why not pass the time with pleasantries?

"It's one of the most popular cafes around here," you replied. "Friday nights always means live music, so people love to flock here. I should know. I frequent here often." you finished with a smile, and received one in return.

They continued engaging you in conversation, and you soon realized it was taking a bit for your drink. A shirley temple wasn't complicated, and you were worried something was wrong. Maybe they were short-staffed tonight? Did an accident occur in the back?

"Are you worried about your drink?"

"No, not really. More so the workers here," you were honest. Some of them were fellow students you see at the academy, and others knew you as a regular, and you had grown quite fond of the staff as they were of you.

"That's a surprise. You're very sweet."

Their order quickly arrived, and they bid you farewell before departing into the night. You walked up to the counter, asking if everyone was ok. The barista reassured you, saying it was only going to take a little while, and that everything is alright now. Relieved, you went back to your perch.

Outside, Viktor was waiting anxiously. This was taking a lot longer than he had anticipated.

When someone emerged from the cafe, he was tempted to get up and ask them if they'd seen you in there.

Yes, my partner. About this tall, very beautiful eyes, a smile you can't miss. Have you seen...?

God. He was contemplating approaching a stranger just to inquire about you. Luckily (or was it?) for him, they must've sensed him sneaking glances at the cafe and at them, because they approached him cheerily.

"You look a little lost. Need some help?" they asked.

"Oh, it's alright. I'm just waiting for someone."

At that, they perked up.

"It wouldn't happen to be someone wearing the same colored blouse as your vest would it?"

Yes. It was. He confirmed it.

"That's perfect actually! I was just talking to them, and since you know them, do you think they would be interested in exchanging contact information with me? They were quite lovely company, and I wouldn't mind getting to know them better."

Viktor could feel his heart drop and the temperature in his soul rise several degrees. What was going on? Where were you? What had happened in those minutes that you were gone?

"I will... ask them," he attempted to keep his tone even. "Mind giving me your contact information to pass along?"

The stranger happily handed Viktor a piece of paper, their messy scrawl sending a sting of irritation through him. That penmanship was not worthy of you, and would certainly not compare to the intricate scripting of his own handwritten notes and letters to you.

When you finally rejoined him, you could tell immediately something was off. You questioned him about it, and he huffed, telling you not to worry about it as you walked home. He didn't even pay any mind to the bag that hung on your arm, too caught up in his insecurities and worries.

That stranger was so much like you. So approachable. Good conversationalist. He couldn't help but imagine a scenario of you two getting along a little too well, and that made something deep inside him hurt. Clearly, he wasn't as good as keeping his thoughts off his face as he believed, or you had simply gotten better at understanding him, because you promptly asked him again.

"Come on, Viktor. Talk to me. What's going on in that beautiful mind of yours?"

"If you knew the full extent of what I'm thinking of, you wouldn't be so quick to call my mind beautiful," he grumbled tersely.

"You can't judge my reaction for me. Spill."

He bit the inside of his cheek. Finally, he confessed. It felt like ripping out stitches from his tongue.

"... someone at the coffee shop. They asked me if I knew you, and then asked if you would be interested in their contact information."

At that, you raised an incredulous eyebrow. Ah. You were blissfully oblivious of the jarring events.

"Viktor, I promise nothing is wrong. We were both waiting for our drinks, and they happened to be making small talk with me. That's all. I love you with my whole heart, and no one else can ever--will not ever--compare."

His heart fluttered. He knew that was the realistic truth, but it was nice to hear reassurance from you anyways.

"You mean it?" he asked.

"I mean it," you said sincerely.

Setting your bags and drink on the nearby bench, you swept him into your arms and twirled him around beneath the streetlight's warm glow.

"I love you," you declared, hands holding his face tightly. Your thumb brushed against the beauty mark above his lip. "And if you ever need reminders of that, you tell me immediately. I will literally drop everything and make sure your doubt disappears completely for as long as I can hold it back."

He gazed into your eyes, his own now slightly misted. Their glossiness reflected warmth and adoration as he took in your face. Seeing the conviction there did something to him. He didn't know what, but he found himself giving in to the urge to just close the distance and kiss you right then and there, open street be damned.

It began to snow. He only realized when he parted from you, the taste of your chapstick still lingering. He looked up, watching the delicate flakes be illuminated by the warm, golden glow. If there was a visualization for the love he felt, it would be that he decided. It all just built and built from all the little things, and filled him with such life it almost hurt.

"We should go home," he whispered, looking back at you.

"Oh yeah, we should. I was going to tell you!" you gasped, running back for your drink and the bag. "They gave me extra cakes and rolls. The last ones of the specialty desserts before their next seasonal delights, so we can share them." you beamed.

"Really? That's quite generous of them."

He wasn't surprised. You were just so damn lovable. He would give you all the baked goods you desired and more, if only for another smile from you directed at him. His fingers intertwined with yours, fondness consuming him as you chatted about the different flavors of the desserts, which ones you were most excited about, and which ones you think he'd like.

He had to agree with your assessments. A dark chocolate and orange mousse did sound quite appealing for him. He already knew he'd let you have the last bite, regardless.

"Oh, and Viktor?"

"Hmm?"

"You can throw away the contact. I don't need it."

I already have you.

[leona-hawthorne]

lorenzo berkshire: how a relationship would be with my favorite male manipulator <3

(@mattnott this came out of the chat we had the other day LMAO ily zoya)

on the surface, lorenzo berkshire is just that guy. he’s effortlessly charming, polite, intelligent, and the kind of person who could convince anyone he’s the perfect human being. he’s the type who walks into a room and immediately draws everyone in—not by being loud or flashy, but by knowing exactly how to make himself seem approachable, kind, and maybe even a little vulnerable. but all of it is just a mask.

enzo is a master manipulator. he knows exactly how to get what he wants, and he does it by making people think they’re in control. he doesn’t argue or beg; instead, he plants ideas like seeds in your mind. “if that’s what you think is best,” he’ll say with a soft smile, knowing full fucking well you’ll second-guess yourself. he makes you feel like every decision was yours, even though he’s been guiding you the whole time. and the worst part? you don’t even realize it until it’s too late.

emotional manipulation and guilt-tripping

enzo doesn’t argue outright, but he’s an expert at making you feel like everything is your fault. when you expresses your feelings or doubts about your relationship, he deflects and twists the narrative.

“you’re overthinking again, love. you always do this—it’s like you’re looking for reasons to fight.”

“after everything i’ve done for you, this is how you see me? it just doesn’t seem fair, babe.”

the constant emotional exhaustion of always questioning yourself and feeling like the villain slowly pushes you to the edge.

subtle isolation

enzo doesn’t tell you to stop seeing your friends or family straight up—that would be too obvious. instead, he plants seeds of doubt about them, turning you against the people who care about you.

“it’s just… don’t you think your friends don’t really understand you? they don’t see the real you like i do. they’re only here for a good time. they wouldn’t stick with you when things are hard, like i do.”

“your sister’s always been jealous of you. it’s kind of obvious when you think about it. in fact… i think i she was flirting with me at the lake trip last weekend…”

over time, you feel more and more alone, with enzo as the only person left in your corner—and even that’s suffocating.

his temper leaks through

enzo prides himself on being calm and composed, but even he can’t keep the mask on forever. when you push back—when you really challenge him—his anger surfaces.

“you think you’re better than me now? after all i’ve done just to make you happy? you should be grateful i’m still putting up with you. no one else would.”

“you don’t get to treat me like this. i deserve better than your constant doubts.”

while he doesn't resort to outright aggression, the quiet, cutting anger and emotional coldness are enough to make you feel small and utterly helpless against him.

hypercritical tendencies

at first, enzo is the type to shower you with compliments. but once he has you, the nitpicking starts. he frames his criticisms as “helping” you or “protecting” you, but they’re really about control. he wants to cut you down until his words are the only form of validation you trust; the only ones that matter.

“that dress is nice, but it’s not really your color, is it?”

“i just think you’d be happier if you didn’t spend so much time on things that don’t matter.”

it’s not that he truly thinks badly of you; it’s just his way of slowly implementing his control. the constant criticism erodes your self-esteem, making you wonder if you’re ever enough for him.

dismisses your autonomy

enzo frames his controlling nature as “taking care of you” or “looking out for you,” but it’s really about stripping away your agency.

he might make decisions for you without asking, like ordering for you at a restaurant or canceling your plans because he thinks you “needs rest.” you simply don’t get a say.

“i only did it because i know what’s best for you. you’d do the same for me if you cared as much as i do.”

over time, you realize you don’t have control over your own life anymore—and that terrifies you.

you start to feel like you’re losing your identity. the things you love—your hobbies, your friends, even your sense of self—have all been swallowed up by enzo’s world.

his fear of losing control turns ugly

when you start pulling away, enzo’s fear of losing you makes him tighten his grip. he might start tracking your whereabouts, showing up uninvited, or trying to manipulate you into staying.

“you’re not yourself lately, baby. i think you need me more than ever right now.”

“are you seriously leaving me after everything we’ve been through? i thought you were better than this. i thought you loved me—was it all a joke to you?”

his desperation exposes just how deeply insane, how utterly selfish he really is—and how dangerous it is to stay—but you still can’t help loving him.

the breaking point: seeing the mask slip

your breaking point comes when you finally see enzo for what he truly is. maybe it’s a moment of anger where his charm gives way to cold cruelty. maybe it’s realizing how isolated you’ve become or maybe it’s catching him in a lie.

“you know what? you’ll never find someone like me again. you’ll never find someone who loves you the way i do—or touches you the way i do.”

“go ahead and leave. but don’t come crawling back when you realize no one else will put up with you.”

and suddenly, the illusion you’ve clung to—the one where enzo is perfect, where his love is worth the pain—is shattered.

enzo doesn’t beg you to stay. no, he’s far more subtle. he sets the stage so that if you even think about leaving, the world around you becomes a constant reminder of him. your friends adore him. “enzo’s perfect for you,” they say, oblivious to his carefully crafted facade, oblivious to the fact that he doesn’t even want them within 50 feet of you. your family loves him because he’s gone out of his way to charm them. “he’s such a gentleman,” your mom gushes after he brings her flowers for no reason at all.

and when you confront him? he doesn’t argue. he doesn’t yell. instead, he sighs, looking at you with those soft, sad eyes. “i just wish you’d trust me,” he says, and suddenly you’re the one apologizing.

and enzo’s love isn’t love—it’s obsession. he doesn’t just want to be with you; he wants to consume you. he integrates himself so deeply into your life that it feels impossible to untangle yourself from him.

he’ll listen to all your favorite songs and tell you how much he loves them too. “this one reminds me of you,” he’ll say, and suddenly, every melody feels like it belongs to him.

he’ll watch all your favorite shows, quote them back to you, and make inside jokes so that even your comfort series becomes a part of his web.

he’ll charm your friends and family until they’re all on his side. “you’re lucky to have him,” they’ll say when you confide in them. and if you ever leave? they’ll tell you you’re making one of the biggest mistakes of your life.

“i just don’t understand,” he’ll say if you call him out. “everything i’ve ever done was for you. because i love you.”

and here’s the thing about enzo: even when he’s truly, deeply in love, he’s still toxic. love doesn’t magically make him a better person—it just changes the way he manipulates you. instead of using his charm to pull you in, he’ll use his insecurities to keep you there. “i don’t know what i’d do without you,” he whispers, and it sounds more like a warning than a confession. almost like he’s saying he’d become worthless without you.

but love does soften him in some ways. his need for control isn’t about power anymore; it’s about fear. he’s terrified of losing you, so he holds on tighter. he’s still manipulative, still controlling, but now it’s because he genuinely believes he can’t live without you.

enzo’s love is messy and overwhelming. it’s the kind of love that makes you feel like you’re drowning, but at the same time, you can’t imagine living without it. and that’s the tragedy of lorenzo berkshire: no matter what he does, you can’t help but love him anyway. even when you see his true colors, you’re already too far gone.

© leona-hawthorne 2025. please do not copy, translate or repost any of my writing.

navigation. masterlist. lorenzo berkshire masterlist.

[simpjaes]

kinda need you to always write about jayhoon fucking and if its not on here PLEASE link where you write it I NEED THESE BISEXUAL MEN TO FUCK

warning: masturbation. jay wants to bottom for his horny friend who can't land a girl. sunghoon is kinda weird about it, like if he's gonna fuck a guy the least he can do is moan like a bitch. they don't fuck in this. not proof read. IF YOU HAVE AN ISSUE WITH SHIP FICS OR MXM THAT'S FINE. Don't hate on me because i like to have fun with fiction. none of this is real, and no, i don't ship them in real life.

-

"I'm just so frustrated, Jay, you have no idea." Sunghoon whines for the billionth time tonight, rock hard in his pants as he lounges around a bedroom that isn't his own. "Imagine if I have to graduate without fucking a single girl here?! Fucking embarrassing." Jay, well aware that Sunghoon really is just a little dumb sometimes, notes how his rock-hard friend never picked up on the fact that he's complaining about never getting his dick wet to a bisexual man, who very much has a crush on him.

"So, what're you going to do then?" Jay grumbles, kicking his socked foot into the rug on his floor, slouching against his bed and pretending like he doesn't have the hottest man on campus lounging on his bed right now. "I don't know-" Sunghoon huffs. "I think I'd do just about anything." He trails off now, lifting his arms in the air and grabbing a pair of imaginary ass cheeks. "What'd I'd do to get some ass in my face at this point. I'm going insane." "You'd do anything?" Jay turns on the floor, peeking above his bed at his friend, eyes trailing down to the tent in his pants only briefly. "Anything." Jay turns back now, staring at his closed bedroom door and feeling his face go hot. There's no way he's about to approach Sunghoon with this. No fucking way. "Sunghoon, have you ever like-" He stops himself, embarrassed, feeling like he's the desperate one at this point. "Hm?" Sunghoon half moans, throwing his hips up against the inseam of his pants, eyes closed as he still imagines that imaginary ass in his grasp. "Let me rephrase." Jay stumbles in his words, trying to think of how to ask him. "Are you looking for a pretty face, or like, just a hole?" Sunghoon pauses, opening his eyes and immediately shooting to the end of the bed, looking down at Jay. "Honestly? I'd probably fuck a bowl of macaroni at this point. My balls hurt." Jay doesn't dare look up at his friend, already feeling smaller compared to him as he sits on the floor embarrassed about his own lust. "What about a guy?" He blurts now, knowing that if he doesn't just ask, he never will. Meaning, he'll never have the chance to know himself just how deep Sunghoon's desperation goes compared to his own. "Hm." Sunghoon pauses, looking up to the ceiling in thought before throwing himself back on the bed. "You know? Yeah, maybe." He says, knowing that at the end of the day, a hole is a hole. Casual sex is casual sex. Guy, girl. Either option is better than a bowl of macaroni. "Oh?" Jay perks up, turning again to look at him. "Why maybe?" "Well, given my luck with girls, I doubt I can just walk up to some guy and be like 'hey bro, can i put my dick in you?' Plus, he's gotta be like, pretty, I guess." Jay's face heats more, knowing for a fact that if Sunghoon said those words to him, he would be on the floor spreading his cheeks in an instant. "Pretty like how?" "I don't know. I've never thought about it before. Shorter than me, nice ass, shaved face. Preferably can moan kinda girly..." Well. Jay just so happens to be shorter. He's shaved (everything), He- Jay tries to moan out quietly, just to see if his voice reaches a feminine pitch, very quietly. "Was that you?" Sunghoon suddenly asks, once again throwing himself back over to the edge of the bed, intentionally rubbing his cock against it because honestly, he needs some fucking hole. "Huh?" Jay asks dumbly. "Was what me?" "Moaning. Did you just moan?" Sunghoon narrows his eyes. "I-" "That sounded kinda hot," Sunghoon now encourages him, staring down at his friend and thinking...maybe..."Can you do it again?" And so, Jay moans awkwardly, trying to reach that same pitch, trying to impress him, really. "Holy shit, you sound so..." Sunghoon trails off, closing his eyes and rubbing his cock against the mattress again. "slutty." "Really?" Jay's eyes practically sparkle, blinking up at Sunghoon in a somewhat submissive way which kind of floors his friend. "Oh." Sunghoon sighs at the image, feeling his cock pulse, practically beg for the man on the floor. "You said they have to be pretty too though." The shorter man pushes the subject, not quite asking, but implying. It's silent now as Jay starts to spiral further and further into embarrassment. He can hear nothing but his own heartbeat threatening to kill him off and get him out of this situation and, well, the rubbing sounds of Sunghoon up there semi-masturbating on his bed.

"Who said you aren't pretty?" Sunghoon mutters, seemingly finding who it is he can release all of this sexual frustration out on. - part two

[livelaughlovesubs]

checked the calendar and oop-almost missed ur event lmao

ANYWAY muzzling Blade and forbidding him to speak 👉👈 u can ignore this part im about to say but I NEED TO BREED THIS MAN NINI. ITS NOT EVEN FUNNY ANYMORE !!!

have a great day/night ᵔᴗᵔ

Dom!reader x sub!blade

Warning: a little pet play (again damn), stepping (also, again…), teasing, brat taming (?), bondage, muzzling, dirty talk

Anniversary event

Haha, have a great day as well Ray~ ALSO, yes, blade, breeding, mpreg-

“Do you know why I’m doing this?” You asked, almost sarcastically. The low, dissatisfied grunt of the male in front of you didn’t escape your ears. Did he really think you’d miss that? When he’s sitting on that chair, mere inches away— all tied up —like that? “Tell me, bladie.”

The pet name you whispered was adding salt to his injury, causing him to lash out even more. “How would I know what you are thinking?” He glared at you, not a deathly one, it was rather a challenging gaze. As if he’s questioning your authority, how cheeky of him. “You’ve been rather chatty today.” You smirked down at him, tilting your head to the side, “are you doing it on purpose?”

He shifted a little, as best as his binds allowed him to. All of his limps were tied to the posts of the meek wooden chair, and a rope was also wrapped around his torso, to further bind him to the leaning of the furniture. It was placed right underneath his chest, making them look fuller than usual. It’d be a foolish assumption to think this would be enough to keep him restrained, though it was just a game, he knew you wouldn’t put him in danger. Besides what’s the worst that could happen, him dying?

Normally he wasn’t keen on playing the brat, yet ever since he witnessed you punishing someone else for ‘not knowing when to shut up’, he’s been feeling slightly eager himself to try it out. With his personality, it was rare for anything to stir his curiosity, but you seem to always find a way inside him mind. Besides, you’ve been spending way too much time with other people. So who would have guessed you’d be into this so much.

“Your thoughts are shifting away. Is this too boring a situation for you?” You took a few steps closer to him, raising your foot to step on his thigh, hand placed on his chin to make him look you in the eyes. “If you know, try making it worthwhile.” He sighed, closing his eyes and furrowing his brows. “Oho, look at the moody kitty being cocky again.” As if you were offended by his indifference, you turned his face to the side, and slid your hand up to tangle your fingers in his hair.

“Are you so desperate for my attention? You could also make it easy and ask nicely.” Instead of tugging on his hair like he expected, you stroked him behind his ear, the one with the large earring. Then you moved lower with your fingers and fumbled with the metal of the Accessoire, rubbing his earlobe while you were at it. “What made you think I’d be craving your attention?” He snarled, grinning at you with half-lidded eyes. Since you were looking down at him, his long lashes became even more apparent.

After a while, you let go of him and chuckled, “because the kitty is mewling at me so much.” You walked up to a specific drawer and took something out, and on your way back you noticed his deviant expression, which compiled you to comment, “yet the kitty has been spouting nothing but nonsense.” Once you were standing right front of him again, you leaned down to meet his eyes, “in such a situation, what would you suggest the owner to do?”

Blade blinked a few times, a little dumbfounded at your words. He didn’t take into account that you would ask him to choose his own punishment, even though it was a basic practice. “I wonder.” Soon, he begun to speak, he wasn’t going to give up this quick. “But if you ask me, isn’t the owner at fault for failing to discipline their pet properly?” This time, he was the one to tilt his head back, not giving up the rebellious act just yet. You weren’t irritated enough, he wanted to see you seething with rage.

Alone the thought of what you might make him do afterwards kept him on edge. His old, weary heart was beating so fast, he could feel every pound hammering against his chest. Your gaze wasn’t wavering, instead you were amused. This was not exactly the reaction he was going for, should he consider his plan failed? A shiver ran down his spine when you cupped his face with one hand, your skin was so warm in comparison to him.

You held him gently, as if he was a frail and vulnerable thing, then you said, “you are right, it would be the owners fault.” A big smirk spread across your face, and you tapped his bottom lips with your thumb. “At least we agree on one thing,” suddenly you stopped mid-sentence, and you hinted at him to open his mouth. Once he did, you revealed what your other hand has been hiding all this time. A muzzle, one for a dog no less.

The male stared at the object in your hand, then asked with a forced smile, “I thought you’ve been raising a cat, not a mutt.” You stuffed the stick inside his mouth and fastened the binds around his head, then replied almost begrudgingly, “desperate times call for desperate measures.” Then you shrugged with your shoulders. “You…! what are you- mffgghnm..!!?” To your surprise, he put up less of a fight than you anticipated.

After you were done, you took a moment to admire your handiwork. How endlessly beautiful he looked, tied up to the chair, with the ropes burning marks into his gorgeously scared body. His long hair falling over his shoulder, creating an almost soft look that didn’t suit his usual vibe. Not to mention how flushed his face has gotten since earlier, how long until he finally sheds tears and begs? Judging by the fierce look he’s giving you, it might still take a while.

Nevertheless, it wasn’t something you haven’t done already. So you readjusted your foot to step on his groin, earning yourself a muffled whine from the man as he recoiled into a ball. “Nghh- hngghhff…♡♥︎♡” good, you could see his facade crumble already. Then you stroked through his hair once again, this time proclaiming, “now, I don’t want to hear anything other than mewls and moans coming out of that mouth. Do you understand, bladie?”

[plaidcowboy]

છ don’t you think rafe is scary?

── ✦ .ᐟ reader seeing rafe threaten someone

maybe you shouldn’t have followed rafe. he did tell you to stay put. that he was going to handle something. but you got bored. and wanted to see what rafe handling something looked like. well now you know.

your eyes widened as rafe pulled the firearm from his back pocket, slightly tapping it against his thigh, almost letting the guy in front of him become aware that he has it. not that he was going to use it.

the guy glanced at it, taking a step back, and raising his hands. you saw rafe tilt his head, and the guy went, scurrying away from the house.

you didn’t expect rafe to quickly turn around, halting when he spotted you through the glass. you straightened, glancing to the side, failing at pretending you weren’t looking. because really, you didn’t see anything. the interaction didn’t get violent. you knew rafe kept one on him sometimes. you weren’t shocked.

rafe walked in, speed walking towards you. he grabbed you, hands running over your body and head. “hey kid, what are you doing out of bed? i told you to stay”

you bit your lip, looking hesitantly up at rafe. “i.. got bored of being in there without you..”

you glanced out the window to where rafe and the guy stood just minutes before.

he followed your gaze, sighing. “how much of that did you see?” he slightly bent to your height, fiddling with his shirt you were wearing. you shrugged.

“not much.. just the..” you mimicked the tap rafe gave to his thigh. he smiled softly.

“i didn’t.. scare you or anything with that.. did i?” rafe’s intense gaze showed that he was nervous for your answer. if you were actually scared of him, he wouldn’t know what to do. the last thing he wanted was for you to worry in fear about him. he only wanted you to feel safe with him.

you shook your head rapidly. “mm mm.”

rafe immediately shook his head. “words, baby. did what i just did out there scare you a little? you can be honest, i won’t get upset..” only with himself.

“no, rafe..” you giggled. “i mean.. did he deserve it? was he not nice to you?” a pout started to form at the idea of the guy being mean to rafe.

rafe rose an eyebrow, softly nodding at you. “he did.. i only do that with people who cause a problem..but i understand if you didn’t like watching it”

you tilted your head, grabbing rafe’s. “i’m not scared of you, rafe”

he exhaled a small breath. “don’t say what you think i want you to..”

you shook your head again. “no, i like your.. protectiveness. that’s all it is. it’s very admirable” you nodded definitely.

rafe gazed at you “you’re the only person who truly knows me” he spoke softly.

you smiled at him. “of course. but you..” you tapped his nose. “..you should’ve known i wasn’t scared. there’s nothing you could do or say to draw me away..” you leaned closer.

“..kinda stuck with me” you frowned sarcastically.

rafe rose to his full height, pulling you into his chest. “i like it like that. you’re not getting away”

you smiled at him, wiggling in his arms.

“oh..rafe i can’t..” you slightly wiggled again.

“hm?” he replied, seemingly oblivious, grip getting tighter.

you sighed, accepting he wasn’t letting go. literally or figuratively.

[immoral-stranger]

𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐉𝐚𝐧𝐞 𝐆𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐲 // 𝐌𝐕𝟏

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟒. 🪐 “I like to stick to walls. Observing conversations, lifting them when they fall.” – Foster the People, Fire Escape.

Pairing: Max Verstappen x fem!reader

Word count: 5k

Warnings: There's a dinner party and reader is a chef, so a lot of talk about food. Reader is also very self-deprecating. Allusions to issues regarding mental health and self-worth, but it's not really the main story. It makes sense, I promise, I just don't know how to warn about it.

A/N: My sister requested this after we watched the movie Sommartider (very swedish), so there's a similar scene in that. I personally find this one very cute. ♡

The apartment smelled of butter and garlic, the scent clinging to the sun-warm kitchen, filled with light that spilled through the sheer linen curtains. It was small but charming, a snug little nest tucked into the hills of the French Riviera, not too far from Nice. You stood at the counter, hands damp from having peeled potatoes, a half-prepared gratin tray in front of you. It had been a gift from your parents, a fittingly named Marseille bleu Le Creuset roasting pan. You would’ve never bought it for yourself—too expensive—but as a gift, you’d been thankful to receive it. 

“Did you decant the wine like I told you?” Imogen’s voice drifted from the other room, where she was preening in front of the gilded mirror you’d picked up at a flea market. It wasn’t her style—too rustic, too worn—but she’d said it added “charm” to your place, always opting for a backhanded compliment instead of the truth. She hated your style because it was the opposite of hers. 

You didn’t look up from your work. “No, uhm—”

“Kinda busy,” she interrupted, breezing in. Imogen always moved like she was on a runway, even barefoot in her sister’s modest kitchen. Her hair was swept into a sleek bun, and she wore a silk blouse that you suspected cost more than your entire apartment deposit. Sponsored, most definitely. She paused to eye the tray in front of you. “What even is that?”

“The base to dauphinoise potatoes,” you said, flicking a glance at her. She didn’t care about the answer; she never did. Imogen asked questions to fill the air, not to gather information. You also suspected that she loved the sound of her own voice so much that she never felt the need to shut the fuck up. 

She wrinkled her nose, but it was half-hearted, like a habit she wasn’t willing to break. “I still can’t believe you do this out of pure enjoyment.”

You shrugged, lifting a knife to thinly slice another potato. “Everyone needs to eat, Imogen.”

“Yeah, that’s what Uber Eats is for,” she said breezily, perching on one of your barstools. “No need to go to culinary school.”

You turned to give her a pointed look, hand on your hip. “And who do you think works in the kitchens at the restaurants you order from?”

Imogen made a face, part exasperated and part amused, and waved you off. “You do not always have to poke holes in other people’s logic. It’s an unattractive trait.”

Before you could respond, the sharp trill of the doorbell cut through the room. Imogen’s eyes widened, and she hopped off the stool in a single fluid motion. “Oh god, that’s them—” She smoothed her blouse and gave herself a quick glance in the reflection of a hanging copper pot. “Do I look good?”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, but your voice softened in spite of yourself. “You always do. It’s your job.” 

As Imogen floated toward the door, a knot of tension twisted in your stomach. It wasn’t jealousy—it never had been. It was more complicated than that: a mix of frustration and yearning that you didn’t want to untangle. Imogen walked through life as though she owned the air around her, while you had spent most of yours holding your breath. 

She pulled the door open with a practiced flourish, stepping aside to let Daniel stroll in first. His confidence and laughter preceded him, a quick kiss placed on Imogen’s cheek, and she giggled in a way that made you want to hurl. 

Daniel moved with the kind of ease that made it impossible to tell if he was posing or simply existing. Former Formula 1 driver, now Imogen’s on-again, off-again boyfriend, who appeared far more interested in globetrotting and sponsorships than in anything truly meaningful with her. With a bit of self-distance, you actually really enjoyed Daniel’s presence. He was funny and kind, even though you had nothing in common. 

“Danny, always good to see you,” you said, managing a polite smile as he stepped into the kitchen, lifting your attention from the food preparations. 

“Whatever it is you’re cooking smells wonderful,” he replied, inhaling deeply. “This is Max,” Danny added, stepping aside to reveal the man behind him. 

Through a gap, you could spot Imogen in the entryway, observing your reaction and how you greeted the both of them. It was almost like she wanted to make sure you wouldn’t embarrass yourself—or, worse—embarrass her. You, of course, knew who she had invited over for dinner. You’d had to sit through hours worth of gossip all the times you and Imogen caught up on each other’s lives. So, having two world-famous athletes stand in your kitchen wasn’t as surreal as it may sound. 

Max was taller than you’d expected, his broad shoulders and quiet presence making the doorway seem smaller. Clad in a simple black t-shirt, he seemed like any other guy your age. He looked relaxed but not indifferent, his gaze curious as he took in your modest apartment.

You raised an eyebrow, unable to resist the rising amusement. “Danny, I don’t know if it’s funny or offensive that you think I don’t know who he is.” 

They both chuckled slightly at your words, and it was like you could see how tension released from Imogen’s shoulders, instantly becoming a couple centimeters shorter. 

“I would shake your hand, Max, but I have oil all over mine,” you said, holding up your slick fingers as evidence, before returning to the food, dealing with a marinated cut of meat. 

“Right,” Danny said, clapping Max on the shoulder and steering him further into the room. “She’s got this whole culinary genius thing going on, doesn’t she? Always smells like a five-star restaurant in here.”

“Not exactly,” you said, though the compliment made your cheeks feel warm. You glanced up at Max, who was still watching you, his smile small but genuine.

“Well, don’t let us interrupt your masterpiece,” Imogen said airily. “We’ll stay out of your way. You’ve got this under control, right?”

You only nodded, turning back to the food. It wasn’t until you heard Imogen’s laughter trailing into the living room that you allowed yourself to relax. There was a faint comfort in being in your element, even if you weren’t entirely alone.

In the background, you heard them talk as Imogen poured up glasses of wine for everyone. The wine she had forgotten to decant—that you knew needed air to taste decent. You heard her talk about the wine like it was something special. You, however, knew that she had stolen all of her knowledge from when she shot an ad for a winery somewhere in South Africa, and it didn’t particularly look like either Max or Danny cared that much. Ironic, for someone who had their own wine company, but you also got tired of hearing Imogen talk about things she didn’t really care enough about to research but talked about anyway to seem interesting. 

As she poured the fourth and final glass, you saw Max pick up two of them in your periphery. You tried to not visibly tense up as you heard his steps approach across your creaking wooden floors. He set both the glasses down on your kitchen island with a careful clink. 

With a wordless nod, you thanked him, picking one of the glasses up and swiveling the red liquid around to aerate it. 

Max lingered near the counter, his hands tucked into his pockets as he studied the array of ingredients you had spread out around you. “Is that you?” he asked, nodding toward a framed photo on the wall. 

It was one of the few remnants of your short-lived modeling career—an editorial shot of you, disturbingly close up, showing skin texture and flyaway hairs, vivid watercolour-like makeup in patches around your face and neck. You didn’t even look like yourself in it, which maybe was why it was the only photo of yourself you could bear seeing every day as you spent time in your kitchen. 

“Totally narcissistic, I know,” you snorted, keeping your eyes on the frying pan sizzling on the stove. 

“No, uhm, I didn’t mean it like that.” Max’s tone softened. “I think it looks cool. You must model too then?” 

“Nope.” You shook your head, glancing up at him, surprised by his sincerity. “I mean, I tried to, but I quit a while ago and went to culinary school.”

“That explains all this.” Max said, gesturing to the kitchen.

“I may have gone overboard,” you admitted, laughing softly. 

Imogen, perched on the edge of the sofa like a cat surveying her domain, twirled a lock of her hair idly before cutting in smoothly. “Is she boring you with her food talk, Max?” Her voice had that lilting quality you recognized well—equal parts teasing and dismissive, designed to simultaneously charm and belittle.

You stiffened instinctively, your movements freezing, spatula scraping the bottom of the pan. 

Max, however, straightened slightly, his casual stance shifting. “Not at all,” he replied, his tone easy but resolute, as if dismissing her suggestion entirely. Then he turned toward you. “Actually…” He hesitated, a small, almost bashful smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Can I help with anything?”

“Oh, probably not,” you said, trying to recover from sounding too surprised. “Imogen always says that I’m like a dictator in the kitchen and that my recipes are unreadable.” 

Max stepped closer, peering down at your notebook with recipes, pages filled with messy handwriting, arrows, and scratchy diagrams. “No, I get it. It’s like a mind map. Makes it easier to see the process,” he said after a moment. “Even if I don’t know what half of these things mean. What even is… a wild turkey?” 

You tilted your head, genuinely surprised that he could make sense of your ramblings. Looking over, you saw his finger point to one ingredient. You let out an unguarded laugh, the sound bubbling out before you could stop it. “It’s bourbon, for the marinade,” you explained. “Does this look like turkey meat to you?”

The meat sizzling in the frying pan was obviously some cut of beef, to judge by the colour. You didn’t need to be a culinary expert to know that. 

“No,” Max admitted with a grin. “And it would be weird to measure meat in tablespoons.” 

Your lips quirked upward, and you reached for a pear from the fruit bowl beside you, along with a cutting board and a little knife. You were hesitant to give him one of your good knives, worried he’d cut himself the first thing he did. It was quite common for people to do when they were unfamiliar with the sharpness a chef’s knife could have. 

“I guess you can chop that pear in little cubes, if you want to help.” 

Max took the pear from you, turning it over in his hands as if he were inspecting some foreign object. “A pear?” 

“It’s for the salad,” you explained, already turning back to your own task. 

“You can put pear in a salad?” he asked, his voice tinged with disbelief. “I don’t think I’ve eaten a pear since I was about seven.” 

You arched a brow, glancing at him over your shoulder to see that he was fully sincere. With swift movements, you took the knife and cut a slice of the pear before dipping it into a vinaigrette you’d already prepared. 

“Try it, for science,” you said, holding it up for him to taste. 

Max hesitated before taking a small bite, his brow furrowing slightly as he chewed. Then he nodded, his expression lightening. “Huh, you know what you’re doing.” 

Heat rushed to your cheeks as you dismissed his comment, turning to look at the stove again. 

Max chuckled in response, shaking his head. He then stepped closer to the counter as he grabbed a knife. His movements were unpracticed but deliberate, the pear wobbling slightly as he began chopping it into uneven pieces. You felt the familiar itch of not being in control, almost taking over your own movements. But, you stopped thinking for a moment. Dinner wouldn’t be ruined just because the pear wasn’t in perfect cubes. And Max was actually putting in effort, biting down on his tongue, a line forming between his brows as he focused.

“Are you always this much of a perfectionist,” you asked, viewing his motions, “or are you just showing off in front of me?” 

“I’ve never put this much brain capacity into anything before,” Max joked, adding a laugh as he examined one of the misshapen pear cubes. 

For a moment, the kitchen fell into an easy rhythm. Imogen and Danny’s laughter floated in from the other room, a sharp contrast to the quiet concentration shared between you and Max. You didn’t usually let anyone help in the kitchen—it was your sanctuary, your domain—but for some reason, with Max fumbling his way through chopping fruit and throwing curious questions your way, it didn’t feel like an intrusion. 

When the food was done, the four of you gathered around your dining table, decorated with pottery and plates that you had collected throughout the years. Nothing matched, just like you preferred it. The golden hour crept through the windows as the room filled with light from the sun and flickering candles. 

And the dinner went fine, just like it always did, even though you couldn’t help but imagine the worst-case scenario of accidentally poisoning someone, or forgetting an allergy, maybe dropping the main dish right on the floor. Your sister and her company ate like they enjoyed it at least. The added blur of wine helping with the atmosphere. 

You were always the most quiet one in group settings, only speaking when spoken to, really. But you liked it that way. The stories Max and Daniel could tell from their lives were vastly more interesting than anything you had experienced anyway. Imogen too lived a more eventful life with fashion weeks and world travelling. Everyone seemed to like it that way too, the scrape of forks against plates punctuating Danny’s latest story. 

“…and when I finally got the bloody thing out of the house, the neighbour’s dog chased it straight back in,” Danny concluded, laughing as he leaned back in his chair. Imogen giggled, dabbing her lips with a napkin in that poised way of hers.

Max chuckled but shifted his gaze to you, curiosity sparking in his eyes. “So, how did you end up going from modeling to cooking?” He asked, after Danny was done telling the detailed story about a snake entering his house back home in Australia. 

You didn’t realise for how long you’d been quiet until you were now forced to speak, your voice sounding foreign to even your own ears. Setting your fork down, you answered, “I gave myself one last runway season to see if I could support myself. I walked three shows, while Imogen walked like thirty.”

“Thirty-two,” Imogen corrected, not missing a beat. She reached for her wine glass, taking a delicate sip before adding, “I’ll always believe you could’ve done it if you didn’t give up so easily.” Her tone was light but pointed. 

Your lips tightened. “I didn’t give up, Imogen—I moved on.” 

“Sure, if that’s what you want to call it,” she said with a faint shrug. “You never see yourself as anything special, always such a plain Jane.” 

The words settled heavily in the air, their weight pressing against your chest. For a brief moment, the table fell silent, the only sound the faint clink of cutlery against porcelain. You forced yourself to maintain an even expression as you reached for your glass of water. 

“It’s kind of hard to when you’re having dinner with three child prodigies,” you answered, letting out a pathetic laugh to conceal your emotions. 

For someone who was so afraid of you embarrassing her, Imogen really had no issue with her own words causing embarrassment for others. 

Max frowned slightly, his hands stilling as he turned toward you. “I wouldn’t call myself a prodigy,” he said, his voice calm but tinged with something else—discomfort, perhaps.

“Yeah, right,” Danny said, nudging Max with an elbow. “Modesty doesn’t suit you, mate. You’re not fooling anyone.”

Max smiled faintly but didn’t reply. There was a softness in his expression that made your stomach twist, though you quickly moved your gaze to look at your plate; the uneven shapes of pear in the salad were suddenly the most interesting thing in the world. 

The conversation shifted, as it always did with Imogen, back to her. Something about a designer or a photographer saying she was the best model to work with. Something about a socialite event where ridiculous things had happened. Ridiculous meaning stupidly expensive or over the top. You wanted to laugh, knowing that they most likely didn’t use the real thing for the crazy champagne fountains she talked about, or that the sturgeon caviar they had served was a cheap knock-off, because no chef in their right mind would use the amount she mentioned. 

You zoned out as she talked, only starting to pay attention again when the conversation drifted towards what they were doing tonight and that they might need to call a cab soon. 

“Oh, where are you going?” you asked, unsure if you actually cared. 

“A sponsored event on a yacht in the marina. You know the jewelry company I did an ad for?” she replied casually, her tone almost bored.

You nodded, though the familiar ache of exclusion began to settle in your chest. You knew the exact advert she was referring to, not because you cared, but because those freaking pictures of her were everywhere. In stores, on every social media app, on digital billboards across multiple cities of the French Riviera—hell, you’d even seen it at a bus stop. 

“I assumed you wouldn’t want to come,” she added. The statement wasn’t cruel, but it stung all the same. “You never do.” 

Your fingers curled around the stem of your glass as you gave a small nod, keeping your face neutral. “No, I guess you’re right.” 

Max hesitated, glancing between you and Imogen. “I mean, she could come if she wanted to, right?”

“Yeah,” Imogen said, tilting her head as though the idea had never occurred to her. “I guess I could make a call to get you on the list.” 

“Don’t bother, you know it’s not my scene anyway,” you said quickly, your voice firmer than you intended.

Danny grinned, leaning back in his chair. “A wild night for her is solving a crossword puzzle with a pen you can’t erase.” 

“Or,” Imogen added with a smirk, her eyes glinting with mischief, “when she’s brave enough, watching an episode of Criminal Minds instead of Friends like she usually does.”

Their laughter filled the room, bouncing off the walls with the kind of ease you’d never quite mastered. It wasn’t malicious—at least not intentionally—but it still left a weight in your chest, heavy and familiar.

You kept your head down, pushing the last bit of salad around your plate, and told yourself you didn’t care. This was the dynamic, after all. Imogen had always been the star of the show, and Danny loved playing her supporting act. You had other friends who understood you better, who you had more in common with. Max, though—Max had been a surprise. And even now, as their laughter rang on, you caught him glancing at you from across the table, a flicker of something unreadable in his expression.

The dinner ended not long after. They had places to be, important people to talk to—while you had sitcoms to watch and dishes to take care of. You were happy to see Imogen every once in a while when she and Danny were both in Monaco, and you loved cooking for people, no matter who they were. But you’d be lying if you said you weren’t a little happy knowing that Imogen was busy with work all throughout the upcoming month. 

As they filtered out, their voices trailing off into the warm Riviera night, the apartment felt suddenly too quiet. Locking the door after them, you slid down onto the floor, sitting with your knees tucked up towards your body, rubbing your tired eyes with the back of your hands, not caring if mascara crumbled all over your face. You felt empty, the hum of the refrigerator filling the silence. The half-drunk bottle of wine on the kitchen counter looked temping as you considered finishing it yourself. 

— — — — — — — — — — — —

Max trailed behind Danny and Imogen as they strolled toward the cab waiting just down the street. The night air was cool, carrying the faint scent of the sea, and the stars twinkled faintly above the rooftops.

Danny was cracking a joke, and Imogen’s laughter rang out like a bell, but Max barely registered it. His hands were shoved into his pockets, his mind somewhere else entirely—back upstairs, at the table, watching you push your food around with that faint, detached smile.

He slowed his steps, his feet dragging. The idea of the yacht party, the glitz and endless small talk, suddenly felt suffocating. He wasn’t sure why, but the thought of leaving felt… wrong. Max hated events like that. Everyone knew that. And while it was nice to catch up with Danny since they didn’t see much of each other nowadays, he found Imogen insufferable. He could play padel with Danny tomorrow if he wanted to talk more with him. Before he could think better of it, Max stopped altogether.

“Hey,” he called after them, making Danny and Imogen turn around.

“What’s up?” Danny asked, his brow furrowing.

Max hesitated, then gestured vaguely over his shoulder. “I think I forgot my phone. I’ll catch up with you guys later.”

Imogen gave him a bemused smile, her head tilting slightly. “You sure? It’s not like we can wait forever.”

“Yeah, I’m sure,” Max said firmly, already stepping back. He waved them off. “Have fun.”

He turned before he could see their expressions and made his way back to the building.

The walk up the stairs felt oddly daunting now, each step heavier than the last, as though the weight of his own indecision was pulling him back. The soft hum of the building at night—the faint creak of pipes, the muffled sounds of life behind closed doors—seemed to grow louder with every passing moment. Max reached your door and hesitated, his hand hovering uncertainly near the wood.

What was he even going to say? He wasn’t the type to overthink things, but this felt different. He didn’t want to overstep. What if you didn’t want company? The evening had already been a mixed bag of awkward moments, and the last thing he wanted was to make it worse.

Max sighed, his arm lowering slightly, just about ready to turn back when he heard your voice from the other side of the door.

“I miss you too, like craaazy,” you said, your voice muffled but clear enough through the door. Max froze, his curiosity getting the better of him. You sounded close, as though you were standing right by the door. Picking up the pieces, he figured you were talking to someone over the phone. 

“Imogen and Daniel came over for dinner earlier, and he brought a friend of his, and it was the most awkward thing ever,” you spoke again. 

Max frowned slightly. He was the friend, of course. While he’d sensed some discomfort during the evening, particularly whenever the conversation turned toward you, he hadn’t thought it was that bad. Who would you be talking to like that anyway, debriefing something that had just happened? Did you have… a boyfriend? 

“Mum,” you added, your voice cutting through his doubt, “of course it was a boy.”

He relaxed a fraction, leaning slightly closer to the door without realizing it.

“A cute one, too,” you admitted. 

Max blinked, warmth creeping into his face. A cute boy. That was a twist he hadn’t expected. He couldn’t help but grin, his chest lifting slightly at the thought. And you definitely didn’t have a boyfriend.

“You don’t have to ask if I bottled it. You already know I did,” you said after a brief pause, your voice quieter now. “I’m not like Imogen. I don’t think I’ll ever learn to be that easygoing.” 

Max was back to frowning, this time for a different reason. He didn’t like the sound of that. He wanted to knock, to interrupt, but he didn’t move.

“Yeah, yeah, I love you,” you said, your tone softening into affection as you ended the call. “Tell Dad I said hi. Buh-bye.”

Max barely gave himself a moment to think before he raised his hand and knocked. There was a pause, long enough for him to wonder if you’d heard, and then your voice came through the door. 

“Did you forget something?”

By the sound of your voice, he could tell that you were expecting it to be Imogen coming back for something. Not him. 

Max smiled despite himself. “Yeah,” he said, the words coming out more confidently than he expected. “I think I did.”

For a moment, there was silence, and then he heard rustling from behind the door, almost as if you’d stumbled to reach it. The lock clicked, and the door opened, revealing you with wide, startled eyes. You looked more tired than you had before, makeup and clothes a bit askew. He assumed Imogen had something to do with how polished you’d looked at the beginning of the evening. 

“Max?” you asked, your voice pitched slightly higher in surprise.

He cleared his throat, his hand rubbing awkwardly at the back of his neck. “I was wondering…” he started, shifting his weight but keeping his tone light, “if maybe, I could stay here and be boring with you?” 

The corners of his mouth lifted slightly, though the words sounded stupid the moment they left his lips. He half-expected you to laugh, but instead, you blinked at him, your surprise melting into something softer.

“Uhm, yeah,” you said, stepping back to let him in. “Sure.”

Max stepped inside, and for the second time that night, he was struck by how inviting your apartment felt. The uneven warmth of the terracotta tiles beneath his feet, the mismatched chairs around the small dining table, and the array of plants lining the windowsill. It was nothing like he was used to, yet it felt like the picture-perfect definition of the word home.

Moving into the kitchen, his eyes landed on something on the counter—a tray of something, its surface dusted with cocoa powder.

“You made dessert?” he asked, tilting his head toward it.

“Yeah,” you said, shutting the door behind him, smoothing out your shirt with your hands. “I made tiramisu. Want some?”

Max didn’t hesitate. Moments later, he was seated on your sofa with a fork in hand, his first bite of the tiramisu silencing any lingering awkwardness. “Fuck me, this is like the best thing I’ve ever tasted,” he said, his voice filled with genuine appreciation.

You laughed, a soft, almost shy sound that Max couldn’t help but find adorable. You really couldn’t handle compliments well, and Max was going to use that to his advantage to make you wonderfully uncomfortable. “And you were going to have all this dessert for yourself instead of going out with us?” he asked, setting his fork down briefly to give you a look of mock betrayal.

“Well,” you said with a small shrug, sitting down beside him with your own plate of dessert. “I wasn’t really invited in the first place.”

Max frowned. “That’s not fair. They should’ve—”

“It’s fine,” you said, cutting him off. “Really. It’s not my scene anyway.”

Max studied you for a moment, his fork hovering over the dish. You were the opposite of so many people that he knew. And so similar to himself that it was almost scary to him. 

Tucking up your legs under your body, you made yourself comfortable on the sofa before you continued talking. “I tend to stick to the walls in places like that anyway. Just observing conversations, trying but failing to lift them when they fall.” 

“Do you also feel like you’ve got a foot in your mouth whenever you open it?” he wondered honestly. 

“Exactly. Always putting my foot in my mouth,” you replied with a chuckle. 

“Sounds impressive to me,” he joked with a grin. “I’m not that agile.” 

“Oh, shut up,” you said, rolling your eyes. “You were the one to bring it up.” 

For a moment, the apartment settled into a quiet hum, the faint sounds of the outside world barely audible through the walls. Max leaned forward, setting his plate down on your coffee table. The TV was noticeably black in front of the two of you.

“So,” he asked, tilting his head slightly, “what is it tonight? A crime show or… what was the other thing?”

“Friends,” you replied, reading in his reaction. “You’ve never seen Friends?”

Max’s brows lifted. “Not really. Maybe bits and pieces, but I couldn’t tell you much about it.”

“Oh my god,” you said, your tone equal parts horror and humor as your eyes widened dramatically. “You have a lot to learn.”

He laughed, the sound light and genuine. “I’m hoping you’ll tell me everything I need to know.”

You smiled, a real one that softened your whole face. You picked up the remote, turning on the pilot episode. Max wasn’t really paying attention, but he liked how certain funny things made you audibly laugh. The more you watched and the more tiramisu you ate—the more the comfortable feeling spread like a fire through your living room, silently burning as he placed an arm around you and shared your blanket. 

This wasn’t where he’d thought he’d end up as he had entered your apartment the first time tonight, but now, he couldn’t imagine being anywhere else.

Thank you for reading! Please let me know what you think ♡

౨ৎ [ main masterlist . taglist . other love letters ]

Taglist: @koko-mei @anamiad00msday @floweringanna @lucyysthings @yelenam5 @firefirevampire @alexxavicry @emails-i-can-send @freyathehuntress

[redrose10]

i see you're taking more reqs!! i wanted to suggest a yoongi sugar daddy or dilf au maybe? or both? 🤪 i don't have anything specific in mind tbh, maybe something he did makes oc jealous and then he reassures her? or whatever else you'd like to do will be fine!

There will be a part 2 to this. I hope its’s okay and that you like it so far!

Idol Yoongi x Female Spouse Reader

Warnings: Swearing, angst, body insecurity, hints of cheating, Jealousy, maybe more…

🍒🍒🍒🍒🍒🍒🍒🍒🍒🍒🍒🍒🍒🍒🍒🍒🍒🍒

You admired the man standing infront of you carefully fixing his tie so that he could look perfect for the evening ahead.

“I can’t believe I lost my cherry tie.”, he pouted as he spritzed on some cologne. “I’m sure it’ll turn up, besides we’re supposed to dress formally tonight and a tie with little cherries on it isn’t exactly formal.”, you chuckled. It was the night of the talent show at your daughter’s school. They had asked the parents to dress as nicely as possible to really make the kids feel like it was a special night for them.

When your husband gave you a little spin you couldn’t help but be stunned in silence. Your husband Yoongi was incredibly handsome. His suit was tailored to hit him perfectly. More than though he was also charming and charismatic with a smile that could melt even the coldest of people. Not to mention the immense amount of talent that he had. It was no surprise that he had people all over the world shouting Yoongi Marry Me any chance they got.

You were lucky though. You were the one he fell in love with. The one he calls his and the one he comes homes to at the end of the day. You are the one he started a family with that was growing by one more any day now. All of this should keep you happy and satisfied yet somehow you often, especially lately, felt like you weren’t quite enough.

“Ready?”, Yoongi asked as he reached out for your hand. His wedding ring glistened in the light. You groaned as he helped you get off of the bed. You were nine months pregnant with your guys second child. Your belly was large and you were sore and swollen and exhausted, but you were determined to watch your five year old daughter perform in her school’s winter talent show. Yoongi kept his hands on your waist to make sure you were steady before you took any steps. “You look beautiful Y/N.”, he said before placing a kiss to your lips. “I look like a cherry about to burst.”, you groaned while really regretting the red dress you had chosen. “You don’t…but even if you did you know I’ve always had a thing for cherries.”, he smirked before leading you to the car.

The school was packed. Yoongi walked infront of you to help create a path while his hand was gripping yours tightly to pull you through the crowd with him. Every few steps he would take a look back at you to make sure you were still doing okay all while politely dodging questions and denying other eager parents of photos and autographs. He knew your feet were already killing you so he was trying his best to get to your seats quickly and without being noticed, but unfortunately being a famous idol came with lots of attention, both positive and negative.

You heard the gasps, the camera shutters, the whispers,

“He’s so gorgeous.”

“He’s even better looking in person.”

“I hope I have a husband like him one day.”

“Yoongi’s such a good dad. His daughter is lucky.”

But there were also the negative ones that were mostly directed at you and while you were used to it by now they were still uncalled for and hurt you quite a bit.

“Wow, I know she’s pregnant, but that’s not an excuse to let herself go like that.”

“Yoongi must be so embarrassed of her.”

“Yeah he could do so much better.”

“Yoongi is definitely cheating on her. There’s no way he still finds that attractive.”

The entire walk to your seat you kept your focus on Yoongi’s hand intertwined with yours while willing yourself to ignore the comments and not end up crying on your daughter’s big night.

The auditorium quickly filled with family members as well as some school staff all ready to watch the kids put on the show they had worked so hard for.

The principal gave a little speech and then the curtain opened and the first act commenced. The kids were adorable and you loved watching them put all of their talents on display. You and Yoongi especially loved the little boy who danced to Boy With Luv.

“And next we have Hana Min.”, the announcer said. You laughed as Yoongi got his phone out ready to take a video.

Your daughter scanned the crowd looking for the two of you and immediately started waving as soon as she saw you. Then she went on to do a wonderful job performing a dance to a piano tune Yoongi had recorded for her. The crowd applauded and you couldn’t have been prouder. Then after a few more acts it was finally time to leave.

“What do you think? Ice cream on the way home?”, Yoongi smiled as he helped you out of your chair. “You know me so well.”, you chuckled going to take a step forward when you were cut off by a group of the other moms. You recognized them from various events around the school. You had always tried to be nice and friendly wanting to make some friends, but they always excluded you for some reason. You assumed it was jealousy, but never really probed for a reason.

Now they were surrounding your husband badgering him with compliments and questions,

“Hana must’ve got her talent and her cuteness from you Yoongi.”

“Are you free to give my son piano lessons? I’ll pay EXTRA….*wink wink*”

“Have you been working out? Your shoulders look so broad.”

“You’re such a good dad Yoongi. I wish my husband was half as involved as you are.”

Those comments you could ignore. They were nothing different than the usual things you heard and you had seen even worse online over the years.

“Oh Yoongs…I’m so glad to see you here.”, an unfamiliar voice spoke from behind you. A woman, about your age maybe a little younger, was walking up towards you and your husband. Her floor length shimmering gold gown caught your attention thanks to the way it perfectly hugged every curve of her body. You thought the thigh high slit was a little inappropriate for a kids event, but you couldn’t deny it looked good. Her hair was long and curled perfectly which matched her perfectly applied makeup. You started to feel like you should’ve put more effort into your appearance tonight, but just getting dressed was an accomplishment on its own at this stage of your pregnancy. You were so caught up in her appearance that it took a moment for her words to process in your brain.

“Yoongs?”, you questioned with furrowed brows.

The grip Yoongi had on your hand increased, almost to the point of pain and you had to pull away.

“Aera.”, he nodded, “It’s nice to see you here.”

“The talent show was great. Little Hana did amazing. I would’ve loved to sit up front with you, but my asshole of an ex-husband cancelled at the last minute. Chul was devastated and it took a while for me to convince him to still show up and perform so I got here just as the show was starting.”

“Yeah he did a great job. He has definitely got a shot at a rap career.”, your husband smiled.

You had seen this play out many times before. Someone would tell Yoongi how he inspired their kid to get into music and he would play it off and get all shy and nonchalant. This time seemed different though, but you couldn’t quite put your finger on it.

“Well he has a great mentor in you.”, she replied, “I just wish he had a dad as good as you too.”

Your husband awkwardly chuckled before running his hand through his hair, a nervous habit of his. He tried reaching for your hand to lead you away when Aera suddenly jumped in excitement startling both of you, “Oh, I almost forgot!” She started digging around in her purse before pulling out a neatly folded tie. Not just any tie, but the tie you had given Yoongi on your third wedding anniversary. It was covered in little cherries, an inside joke between the two of you. It was the tie with the cherries that he was looking for earlier and thought he had lost.

You started to pull your hand out of his wanting to question why this woman had his tie in her purse, but he strengthened his grip keeping you put.

Aera handed it over, “You left it at my place a few weeks ago and I just keep forgetting to give it back. I’m just so forgetful sometimes.”

You forcefully ripped your hand out of Yoongi’s grasp and backed away. There was only one reason why your husband would remove his tie at another woman’s house and the thought of it made you sick.

[heliosunny]

Hi, I would like to make a request for a yandere reader x gojo

Just imagine that the reader kidnaps Gojo and in an unexpected way develops Stockholm syndrome and can't do any harm to the reader.

(you can ignore this)

Def can't ignore such cool idea, luv it. ✨In fact, I love it so much that I have to write straight away!!

BOUND BY OBSESSION

Satoru Gojo was untouchable. Or so he thought.

It started with a trap so meticulously crafted it almost didn’t work. You knew you couldn’t overpower him directly, his Infinity was practically unbeatable. But you also knew Gojo’s biggest weakness: his overconfidence.

You’d tracked him for weeks, studying his movements and habits. He was cocky, always one step ahead of everyone else, but that made him predictable. You created a cursed tool designed to temporarily disrupt his Infinity, something he’d dismiss as laughable, until it wasn’t.

It happened in an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of town. You lured him there with a fake bounty, one big enough to pique even his curiosity. When he walked into the trap, his usual swagger in full force, you struck.

“Really?” he drawled, glancing around the empty space. “You thought this would work on me? I’m offended.”

You didn’t answer, launching your cursed tool at him. It wasn’t about power, it was about precision. The tool activated mid-air, releasing a field of cursed energy that temporarily nullified his Infinity. His eyes widened in genuine surprise as he tried to step back, only to find himself stuck within the trap.

“Gotcha!” you said, your voice steady despite your racing heart.

Gojo struggled against the restraints, his strength still formidable even without his Infinity. But you’d planned for this moment for far too long. Before he could break free, you struck him with another cursed tool designed to knock him unconscious.

When Gojo woke up, he found his arms bound and his Infinity still suppressed. He blinked a few times, disoriented, before his gaze settled on you.

“You’re awake.” you said calmly, sitting in a chair across from him.

“Awake, and very annoyed.” he replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “This is a bold move, I’ll give you that. But you know I’m going to kill you when I get out of here, right?”

You leaned forward, unfazed by his threat. “You won’t get out. Not until I let you.”

He scoffed, but there was a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. “What’s your endgame, huh? Ransom? Revenge? Or are you just obsessed with me?”

You didn’t answer, your silence unnerving him more than any threat could.

The days turned into weeks. At first, Gojo was defiant, throwing out snarky remarks and testing his restraints at every opportunity. But no matter what he tried, he couldn’t escape. You controlled the situation perfectly, never giving him a chance to regain his power.

As time passed, something shifted. Gojo’s anger gave way to curiosity. You didn’t mistreat him, in fact, you went out of your way to make sure he was comfortable. You brought him food, patched him up after his failed escape attempts, and even indulged his sarcastic banter.

“You’re surprisingly nice for a kidnapper.” he said one day, watching as you set a plate of food in front of him.

“Don’t mistake kindness for weakness.” you replied, sitting across from him.

He smirked. “Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it.”

Despite himself, Gojo began to lower his guard. You were the only person he interacted with, and your strange mix of care and control started to mess with his head. He found himself looking forward to your visits, even if he’d never admit it.

One night, as you sat beside him, Gojo broke the silence.

“You know, I should hate you” he said, his voice unusually soft.

“You should” you agreed.

“But I don’t.” He leaned his head back against the wall, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Maybe I’m just losing my mind, but… you’re not so bad.” You didn’t respond, your expression unreadable.

Over time, Gojo’s defiance melted away completely. He stopped trying to escape, stopped threatening you. Instead, he seemed almost… content.

One day, you loosened his restraints slightly, testing his reaction. He didn’t try to attack you. Instead, he stretched his arms and gave you a lopsided grin.

“Don’t look so surprised,” he said. “Maybe I just like it here.”

“Is that Stockholm syndrome talking?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Probably” he replied, his grin widening. “But does it matter?”

From that moment on, something unspoken lingered between you. Gojo stayed willingly, his loyalty no longer tied to his restraints but to you. Whether it was genuine or just a product of his situation, neither of you cared to question it.

------

Over time, the relationship between you and Gojo blurred the line between captor and captive. What started as a power play, your victory over the so-called strongest, had become something more complex, something neither of you could define.

Gojo had stopped resisting entirely, choosing instead to let himself depend on you. His smirks were softer now, his sharp tongue tempered. When you came to check on him, he seemed genuinely happy to see you, his signature grin a little too genuine to be an act.

But you couldn’t ignore the growing weight in your chest. This wasn’t sustainable. No matter how much he seemed to enjoy your company, you knew keeping him like this wasn’t fair, not to him, not to you.

One night, as he sat beside you, his head resting on your shoulder, you made your decision. “I’m letting you go.” you said, your voice steady.

Gojo lifted his head abruptly, his eyes narrowing. “What?”

“You don’t belong here,” you said, standing up. “Go back to your life.”

He laughed, but there was no humor in it. “You’re joking, right? After all this time, you’re just going to… leave me?”

“I never planned to keep you forever,” you replied, avoiding his gaze. “This was temporary.”

But Gojo didn’t believe you. He refused to believe you.

When you finally walked away, it shattered something inside him. For the first time in his life, Gojo felt truly powerless. You had become his anchor, his entire world, and without you, everything felt meaningless.

At first, he tried to move on. He returned to Jujutsu High, resuming his role as the prodigy everyone admired. But the adoration of others felt hollow. No one else understood him the way you did. No one else saw him for who he truly was.

And so, he began to spiral.

Months passed, and whispers of Satoru Gojo’s descent spread through the jujutsu world. The once untouchable sorcerer had become erratic, unpredictable. He hunted cursed spirits and sorcerers alike with a ferocity that terrified even his allies. But it didn’t stop there.

Gojo began to sacrifice.

He offered cursed spirits, rogue sorcerers, and even innocent people to get your attention. Each act was a message, a desperate cry for you to notice him again.

One day, as you were tracking a particularly powerful cursed spirit, you found him waiting for you. His figure stood silhouetted against the moonlight, blood staining his hands.

“Satoru” you said, your voice sharp.

He turned to face you, and for the first time, you saw something raw and unguarded in his expression. “You came,” he said, his voice trembling with something that might’ve been relief, or madness.

“What the hell are you doing?” you demanded, gesturing to the bodies around him.

“I needed you to notice me” he said simply, stepping closer. “I needed you to come back.”

Your heart twisted at the sight of him. The confident, untouchable sorcerer was gone. In his place stood someone broken, someone who had surrendered everything to his need for you.

“You can’t keep doing this,” you said, trying to keep your voice firm.

“I’ll stop” he said, his gaze locking onto yours. “I’ll stop if you take me back. I’ll do whatever you want... just don’t leave me again.”

You hesitated, torn between the rational part of you that wanted to walk away and the part that couldn’t ignore the desperation in his eyes.

“Please” he whispered, sinking to his knees before you. “I need you.”

The weight of his words crushed any resistance you had left. You knelt in front of him, placing a hand on his cheek.

“I’ll take you back” you said softly. “But you need to promise me you’ll stop hurting people.”

“I promise,” he said instantly, leaning into your touch like it was the only thing keeping him grounded.

And in that moment, you realized the truth, you couldn’t let him go, either.

[pretty-sparkle-bomb]

Heya! My area just had a really nice snow so it gave me a cute idea.

Can you write a oneshot where fem reader x Bakugo are outside heading back to the dorms or something and the reader initiates a snowball fight? They both like each other but the other doesn't know it but maybe they fall in the snow or something and Katsuki can't hold back his feelings anymore? 🥰🥰

I also really like Kirishima, he doesnt get enough love, so maybe one for him too? (If you want to and have time of course!) Thank you and I hope you have a nice weekend!

Fun fact: I have never touched snow before.

"Cold Hands, Warm Hearts"

Pairing: Bakugo Katsuki x Fem!Reader Genre: Fluff, Mutual Pining

The walk back to the dorms was peaceful, the fresh snowfall muffling the usual noise of the city. Streetlights bathed everything in a soft golden glow, and the air was crisp and clean.

Beside you, Katsuki walked with his hands stuffed in his pockets, his breath visible in the cold air. He wasn’t complaining, but you could tell by the slight furrow of his brows that he was impatient to get inside.

Which made it the perfect time to strike.

You bent down ever so slightly, scooping up a handful of snow, compacting it just enough to make a solid snowball.

And then—

SMACK!

The snowball exploded against Katsuki's shoulder.

He froze. Slowly, very slowly, he turned his head to look at you, eyes wide with disbelief. You, on the other hand, were biting your lip to hold back a giggle, eyes sparkling with mischief.

"The hell was that?"

You shrugged innocently. "A snowball fight, obviously."

"You little—"

You didn’t wait for him to finish before you launched another one, this time aimed at his chest. He dodged it last second, and suddenly, the air changed.

Oh, you were so screwed.

"Alright, shortstack," Bakugo growled, crouching down to grab a handful of snow. His smirk was sharp, his red eyes glinting dangerously. "You wanna play? Let’s play."

You yelped and tried to run, but it was too late. A snowball hit your back, another against your thigh, and before you could retaliate, Katsuki tackled you into the snow with a triumphant cackle.

A very ungraceful squeak left your lips as you landed beneath him, the cold seeping into your clothes. His weight was carefully balanced, so he wasn’t crushing you, but he was definitely trapping you.

The laughter died down, leaving only the sound of your breaths mingling in the crisp air.

You became painfully aware of how close he was—his warm breath fanning against your cheek, his hands bracing on either side of your head. His red eyes were softer now, gazing at you like you were something fragile.

"Y’know," he muttered, his voice low, "you’re a real pain in the ass."

You swallowed, suddenly shy. "Yeah... but you love it."

He let out a short chuckle. "Yeah," he admitted, voice quieter now. "I do."

Your breath hitched.

Then, before you could even process what was happening, his lips were on yours—warm and firm, completely at odds with the freezing cold surrounding you.

It wasn’t rushed or aggressive like you might’ve expected. It was sweet—like he had been holding this in for far too long and couldn’t stand another second without kissing you.

When he finally pulled away, his cheeks were pink—not just from the cold.

"You gonna keep throwin’ snowballs at me now?" he muttered, resting his forehead against yours.

You grinned, eyes twinkling. "Only if you promise to tackle me again."

Damn snowball fights.

Maybe this one wasn't so bad though.

"Snowball Smiles"

Pairing: Kirishima Eijiro x Fem!Reader Genre: Fluff, Mutual Pining

The first snowfall of the season always made Eijiro feel like a kid again. The way the snow crunched under his boots, how the world felt softer under its icy blanket—it was the kind of thing that made him wanna do something fun.

Luckily, you had the same idea.

"Hey, Eiji!"

Eijiro turned at the sound of your voice—just in time for a snowball to smack right into his chest. For a second, he just stood there, blinking in surprise. Then his lips curled into a slow, dangerous grin.

"Ohhh, you are so done."

Before you could react, he was already scooping up a handful of snow. You squeaked and tried to run, but he was fast—he launched a snowball right at your back, laughing as you let out a dramatic gasp.

"Traitor!" you shouted, giggling as you spun around and threw another one.

What followed was a full-on war. Snowballs flew through the air, both of you laughing as you dodged and retaliated. Eijiro cheeks were flushed—not just from the cold, but from how beautiful you looked, all bundled up and laughing, your breath visible in the air.

Then, just as you were about to throw another, he lunged—

And you both went down.

You landed in the snow with a soft oof, Kirishima’s arms wrapped around you protectively as he cushioned the fall.

For a moment, everything stilled.

You were so close. Your nose was pink from the cold, your lips slightly parted in surprise, eyes wide as you looked up at him.

And damn, if he wasn’t already head over heels, this moment sealed it.

"...Uh," he started, voice unusually soft. "Guess I win, huh?"

You raised a brow. "You call this winning?"

"Yeah," he murmured, gaze dropping to your lips for just a second before flicking back to your eyes. "Because now I don’t have to hold back anymore."

Then he kissed you.

It was warm and a little clumsy, but who was complaining? His lips were slightly chapped from the cold, but you didn’t care—not when he kissed you like he meant it, like he had been waiting for this for so long.

When he pulled back, his grin was blinding.

"So, uh… do I still gotta throw another snowball, or can we just stay like this for a bit?"

You giggled, looping your arms around his neck. "I think we can stay like this for a bit."

And just like that, Kirishima decided—snowball fights? Best thing ever.

This kinda melts my heart🎀

[sugurusfavemonkey]

CALL IT FATE - PROLOGUE: KNOCKIN' ON HEAVEN'S DOOR

summary: your roommate left and the bills were staring to pill up when three knocks to your door bring you Ino Takuma: say hello to your new roommate. The easygoing boy quickly worms his way into your life and heart. pairing: Ino Takuma x reader word count: 1.3k contents: college AU, short series, afab!reader, fluff, some crack, cursing, miscommunication (you think Ino is gay), strangers to friends to lovers (and they were roommates!), smut to come in future chapters (MDNI)!

prologue || chapter one

"What do you mean you're moving?!" you bellow, throwing your hands up in disgruntlement as you walk back and forth through your living room.

"I know it's sudden, but-" your roommate tries to chime in from her spot on the couch, shoulders hunched as if trying to make herself look smaller and hands splayed together on top of her thighs.

"Sudden is right. I'm not saying I'm not happy for you, but you could at least have let me know in advance, you know? I mean, a little room to breathe would've been nice." you keep on rambling.

"I'm so sorry! It's just... we've been dating for a few years now and when she asked me to move in with her I just- what was I supposed to do?"

"Say yes?" at that you finally stop, one hand running over your face, "and then ask for a little time so your roommate doesn't get swarmed in debt."

Utahime has the chagrin to stay quiet while you let your frustration out. Glancing at her from between your splayed fingers, your own shoulders fall, defeated. You walk to the couch and let yourself fall down beside her with a deep sigh, head lazily lolling back against the worn-out cotton.

"I can't afford this place on my own and we're in the middle of the semester, how am I supposed to find anyone?"

"I'm sorry." she tries one more time, softly.

You turn your head to face your ex-roommate and reach for her hand, a small if not bittersweet smile on your lips.

"I really am happy for you, Hime."

"I know."

"Ugh! The commute back and forth to campus has been taking me ages. I haven't had the time to skate in... forever!" Ino Takuma whined to his aloof blond friend, head falling down against the table wooden top with a smack.

Nanami scowled in disgust, who knows how many people have done god knows what against that same table top but showed no other reaction to Ino's dramatic display. He kept on politely munching on the surprisingly good sandwich he had just bought at the campus cafeteria.

The unlikely duo had come to be when Ino had been a freshman at Jujutsu Tech and desperately needed help in one of the general courses. With the pending prospect of failing his class, he finally sought out tutoring. Cue in Nanami Kento, a junior with one of the highest GPAs in the school who offered tutoring lessons for extra credit.

Takuma had instantly latched onto Kento, his admiration and high regard evident through his constant praise of the slightly older man. And Nanami try as he might couldn't help but cave in under Ino's unrelenting enthusiasm because, as cold as he may seen, he has a soft heart underneath.

"You think maybe I could get a spot in one of the units closer to the campus?" his voice comes out muffled.

"We're in the middle of the semester, Ino. I doubt there's anyone interested in-" Nanami cuts himself off when an abrupt memory flashes in his head.

"You're right." Takuma lifts his head up and sighs, taking a large bite of his own sandwich and chewing thoughtfully.

"No, no. I just remembered something. Believe it or not a friend recently had her girlfriend move in with her. Her roommate could be looking for a new tenant." Nanami puts his sandwich down and reach for a napkin, meticulously cleaning his fingers before picking up his cellphone and scrolling through it.

"You're joking?" The brunet visibly perks up, his entire demeanor shifting, eyes wide and lips splitting into a wide grin.

"Not at all." Nanami replies mindlessly as he starts typing on his phone.

Meanwhile, Ino's eyes grow distant as his head spirals into different thoughts and plans, "that's like... it's gotta be destiny or something like that, right?!"

Just then Nanami's phone chimes with three consecutive pings.

"Yes. Very fortuitous indeed. They are in fact looking for a roommate. Here, I'll send you the address."

After your roommate left for good, everything seemed to be going downhill.

Five out of the six jobs you applied to had reached back out only to let you down, you missed the deadline to an important project in one of your classes, you accidentally washed a red pair of panties along with the white clothing ending up with a bunch of pink pieces instead and, to make matters worse, the heater broke down just as the temperature started dropping.

You were in the middle of a break down when there were three knock to the door.

Your spine went rigid, cold sweat running down your back, immediately assuming the worse. Murphy's Law has been theorized for a reason after all.

"Well, better nip it in the bud." you mumbled before lifting yourself up from your laid out position on the floor with a grunt and some joints popping.

As you open the door you're surprised to find a boy you're pretty sure you've seen in passing across the campus standing with his hands in his pockets. He is handsome in a boyish way and you can't help but appreciating his big dark eyes and disheveled brown hair.

"Can I help you?" you ask after a few seconds of awkward silence as he stares at you with wide eyes.

"Uhm... yes! Yes. I, well, you see, I was complaining about the loooooong time it takes to and fro from my apartment to campus and how I no longer have time to do anything, it's really annoying because I like to skate and chill with my friends sometimes, you know? And then Nanami, who's whip-smart, reminded me we're in the middle of the semester so chances were I would be stuck there at least until it ended. But suddenly he remembered a friend of his had just had her girlfriend move in with her so now her girlfriend's roommate could be seeking another roommate! So he reached out and turns out, she is! I mean, was. If she takes me, that is. No! Wait, I mean, if you take me."

You blink owlishly as your brain struggles to comprehend the influx of words being thrown at you at breakneck speed, "what?"

"Damn," he sighs and looks down, wincing at his own frenzy, "I'm sorry, I got ahead of myself. Let me start over," the boy fixes his posture and tries again, "hi, I'm Ino Takuma. I heard you were looking for a roommate and I wanted to apply for the position!" He punctuates his sentence with a charming smile that had no business being as cute as it is.

You introduce yourself with a chuckle.

"I am looking for a roommate. You said Nanami sent you? The blond guy with the glasses and a penchant for weird patterns?"

"Yes! That's definitely him."

"We may not be close, but I know for sure that's the most trustworthy guy on campus."

"He really is. Nanami is like the most amazing guy I ever met. He's so smart and cool. And handsome too!" Ino says dreamily, a bit too dreamily for it to pass as only admiration and you feel yourself growing a bit less tense, letting go of the door you were halfway hiding behind.

Sharing your housing with a man would be a risky venture at the very least but if said man played for the same team? maybe that could work.

"I'm not gonna lie, you've come at the right time." You admit, glancing at him from below your lashes. He seems to falter for a second, but recover just as quick.

"See! It's like fate!" his overexcited reaction has your smile growing, Ino has this endearing quality to him that immediately lowers your defenses.

"Fate." You nod your head, lost in your own head.

"So?"

"Oh, yeah! Right! Come on in. Let's chat about this."

next

taglist: @lavenderdaydream97 @ilovemyhusbandnanami @iluvmusicxoxo @tunnelvisionlove @sweetwonieee - I went ahead and tagged those who showed interest in the drabble that lead to this series as well as those who asked for it, hope you don't mind (and if you do just let me know and I'll take you out) <3

[obeymeluv]

Octavinelle w a Southern!Reader? A lot of the pet names and the common phrases are pretty affectionate and soft, so I think seeing the more composed bunch get exposed to such a sweet reader would be cute!

Before we begin, two notes: 1) I will also be playing with the creature traits of the Octo Trio as I see fit. 2) I personally call the three "Corelians" because they're from the Coral Sea. I am from the South so hopefully I answer this to your liking, haha. Sweet is a loaded term to me. Sweet is both the first taste of wispy cotton candy dissolving on your tongue and the sugar-coated demise of 'Oh my god, this is so good! I should really stop. Ah, fuck it. I'll deal with it later,' knowing you're going to complain about the miserable overload in an hour. If you have any kind of serving/retail/waitressing experience (especially in the south), you'll also know that 'sweet' is kill them with kindness and scream in the walk-in when you can't kill them for real. As for the Octo Trio? Have some random blurbs :)

Two of Azul's three hearts are sent cartwheeling and quivering when you so much as look at him! He doesn't know what to do with you! You're...you're so nice! In truth, he doesn't get you because he can't seen an ulterior motive or an end game. Part of the reason he can't understand you is because there IS NO END GAME. How does that work? He doesn't understand it. The only thing he understands is that your many ludicrous pet names make him writhe and wiggle and question the efficacy of that damnable lander potion! Surely they wouldn't cheap out on quality and compromise the future of a bright, young entrepreneur, right? He can mock them all he wants, his face smushed into his hand, but it doesn't stop his cheeks from reddening. You made him disgustingly warm inside and he has to use short words before the ink starts to pool in his mouth (the tweels noticed that and take great joy in it). "Yes, they're all so terrible. Terrible enough to make you rant," Jade muses as they settle into a brief respite with tea before opening the Mostro Lounge for the afternoon. "Frequently." "More like say 'em in the mirror as a pep-talk," Floyd boots the door open with a mocking laugh, gold eye shining as he flops down on the couch. He effortlessly catches the spill, much like he'll flip an omelet without looking, and keeps his eyes trained on Azul like the prey he is. Azul felt the heat rise in his cheeks and his chest. His feet untangled themselves subconsciously as his reduced limb-brains tried to figure out which one was close enough to bop Floyd. Jade leaned forward and pressed the cup handle against his palm to quash the punching instinct and remind the limb it was full. He snorted, adjusting his glasses with his free hand. "Isn't that right, sugar dumplin'?" Floyd flashed a toothy smile at him as Jade stuck an empty pen in his mouth to stop him from drooling ink into his tea. Floyd knew that one was his favorite.

---

The Corelian-Land Exchange Program prepared him for a lot of unique human experiences but didn't prepare Floyd for you. But that's to be expected because there is no chapter on 'dimensional strangers' in the curriculum. He's constantly having to remind himself of things like less resistance on land so the fights are in his favor. Or that he's not as fluid when he turns and those pinky thingies hurt like a BITCH and he doesn't see why he can't just cut it off because it HOOKS ON EVERY FUCKING THING. He also has to remind himself that hunting instincts are rude here. You don't stalk people, you meet them. But you're just so nice and bob along! It almost seems wrong not to keep an eye on you, what with how small you are. That's what he tells himself, anyways. He doesn't know quite how to describe it but your sweet words are funny with their little dips and drawls. They call him like something shiny and give him this burst of energy that makes him want to fling his long limbs out and twirl like a whirlpool. You can tell when he needs encouragement and aren't afraid to clamp up and be cold when he doesn't deserve any coddling. You call yourself a southerner and he's not quite sure what you mean because you have no home here and no one knows what direction your home is in. You and the apple-toting Guppy are a lot alike but Floyd doesn't get the same kind of feelings out of following him or plopping an arm down on his head. Matter of fact, the last time he plopped an arm down on Guppy's head, Guppy put him between some tree roots with a fancy shoulder toss Beta Fish taught 'im.

But when he does it to you? It's always different--just like him. Some days it's linking your elbows together and joking that he's stuck with you now. Other days you just wrap an arm around his middle and hug him for a few seconds where his cold-blood self squirms in the warm casing being incubated by you. On the rare and very amusing occasion that you aren't in the mood when his arm touches your head, you give him a warning smile before nipping at him. It doesn't hurt, honestly. Hardly enough to feel through fabric. Nothing at all to a Corelian predator. Cute for trying, though. He doesn't dare tell you that his blood can make humans sick.

Floyd just leans down and grins at you, ignoring the bit of fabric in your teeth, and whispers 'My turn,' just enough to show you all his glistening, pointy teeth. You always let go and he always bites air, but his legs are damn near knotting themselves together in glee at the thought of you letting him mark you for real. You scurry down the hall as Jade weaves himself between the students, following the scent of his many emotions. Landers had a theory about twins being connected; that's one of the first things he learned about them. Jade didn't see the whole scene but seems to know enough.

"Morays are opportunistic cowards at best, my dear brother. Don't feel bad." Jade gives him a closed-lip and a closed-eyed smile. And just like that, like when they were elvers, he and his brother are tangled and biting.

----

Jade knows it's a baser instinct to keep an eye on someone not like him. Not only from a safety standpoint but in the vein of him being the perceived threat to your...benign. He can't help but laugh and see you as soft when you're trying to hide your ragged gasps for breath as he turns to observe your footing on the incline. He was more comfortable in his lander form now and thought this would be an easier trail for you to navigate, coming from a foreign land and all.

Perhaps he was wrong.

But still, to see you struggle and flush, to see your hair come undone just a touch as you begin to glisten is quite a sight. It reminds him all over again that you're human like these landers on Sage's Island but you're not one of these landers, exactly.

You're the only one of your kind. The rarest of rare specimen.

You push up the incline, fixing your hair as you breeze past, and excitedly point to a patch of greens Ruggie told you about before. They are edible and coming home with you! You know how to prepare them!

Something ugly and gnashing wells up in Jade. Makes him want to suck the little Savanaclaw mongrel up in his pharyngeal jaws but he doesn't have them in this form.

Mmm, but he's thinking about the wrong jaws, isn't he? A bit rude to be thinking about his. It's best to put nutrition in yours. Yes, yes, that's very good. Jade's smile almost twitches as his back spasms where one of his more active fins would be. "Greens are a bit of an insult compared to the bounty of the Mostro," he lets you slide down the incline with barely a pull as he grinds his walking stick into said patch of greens. "Though no less important. Come, I'll even make you tea." "But what about the hike? It's only been, like, thirty minutes!" Most of that was waiting on you to traverse the terrain, but still! Jade didn't even have a single mushroom to show for it! Jade prides himself on his composure and quick wit. Here lately he's been applauding himself for holding onto all of it--any of it--around you. You have no magic but seem to do something akin to his signature spell. "There's more moisture in the air," he grips his walking stick and surprises even himself with the smooth stumble of his words, "there's rain coming. I can smell it." That did sound plausible to your lander self. He could see you contemplating it. Was it really going to rain? Who knew. The weather on Sage's Island was as unique as it's occupants. Your relent is reluctant but Jade pays that no mind as he stamps down an errant root and taps your foot politely away from it. "What a gentleman!" you tease, kind needling almost costing you a face full of green leaf from a bent tree. He chuckles as you bat the leaves from your face in a fit of self-preservation.

The flailing really is quite adorable.

You huff at his laugh and stomp almost petulantly after him to the flat and familiar of Sage's Island, the impressive point of the college a mere smear in the distance. After a near twenty minute walk, you change generously in Mostro Lounge's bathrooms (as in: Floyd annoys Azul enough to keep him unaware) and clean up enough to meet dress code, cramming your hiking things under the table. Floyd catches you, you both know. He knows the deal. What you don't know is that he waits for you to bat your eyes at him like you'll inevitably do and he revels in it. Mostly because his mushroom-huffing brother doesn't know what to do when you do that, but he thinks your eyes are pretty too. Jade coughs into his hand.

When that doesn't get the desired result, he gently turns you into your side of the booth and seats himself. There's a bristling only known between brothers and those who have a territorial bone in them. Floyd smirks and checks his brother's fingers for signs of webbing or claws. "What're ya havin'?" Jade lets you order first, of course. He orders next, not even bothering to grab a menu Floyd didn't offer. "And for drinks?" "That's supposed to be first, brother dear." Jade smiles. "Actually, appetizers first." he snorts. "I'll be making her some tea, actually." Jade excuses himself and walks in-step with his brother to the kitchen. "Makin' time for tea but no time for truth, heh?" Floyd's eyes are suddenly sharp and Jade growls. Jade realizes this is an unsafe situation as there are many knives around them. He's just as keen with a pot if it's all the same. The thought crosses his mind. "Gonna feed her before ya confess? Seems I'm not the only one who does things out of order, huh?" "I am providing." Jade hisses, opening his mouth wide.

"Best remember to provide some dish pit time because you owe me." Floyd taunts. "I covered your tail and got your little lander love a table!" In that moment, Floyd doesn't know why he turned his back. It felt good, maybe? Felt right for the moment? All he knew is that one hand full of menus didn't do anything against a hefty grab to the back of his neck as he was almost shoved into the hot water part of said dish pit. "How much time would you like?" Jade mused, bracing one arm against the other as he leaned his weight into his brother.

"Ah shut up and go make your leaf juice!" Floyd tries to nip him as he wriggles beneath his brother, only one set of shoes fit for the kitchen. Satisfied, Jade relents. It may cost him somewhere down the line but in this moment he's happy. Happy and put together and providing. Just for you.