#and then the next day i try again only to be met with no AGAIN

[muntitled]

Housewife Blues

Pairings: Terry Richmond x Housewife!Reader

Summary: Operation making a baby

Warnings: Language, Traditional Gender Roles, Controlling!Terry, Daddy Issues, Smut (+18) mdni, Degradation Kink, DDLG, Daddy Kink, Controlled Orgasm, Unprotected Sex

A/n: Reader literally calls him Daddy. Please don't read this if that's not your vibe.

When your days weren't spent caring for your home as an active military wife, you engaged in reading, crocheting, baking and positively, actively avoiding the southern housewives that haunted your sunny cul-de-sac. Terry knew you'd much rather be doing things alone when he was at work.

This woman was intruding on your alone time.

"We've got to stick together!" the woman had said, her voice dripped like her honeycomb hair haloing her head. You wouldn't have willingly opened the front door had you known she would be lurking on the other side. The amicable smile that was on your face was cracking.

You initially thought it might be your husband, come to surprise you, knocking off from work earlier than usual. All throughout the day, you had been eager to see him.

He had left you in quite the state this morning.

"Faster," he had commanded in that mahogany veneered voice as he watched you try and fail to give yourself even a sliver of the kind of pleasure you were used to. He liked watching you struggle to take your fingers that were far too small, nothing like his large, skillful hands that would drill into your cunt when you needed it to.

"Why are you slowing down?" He enquired calmly, his head leaning against the headboard as he watched you try to please yourself in order please him to the best of your abilities.

You were seated between his legs with your legs spread open. The only contact established between you two was your ass pressed against that bulge straining his boxers. If Terry was a lesser man, he'd forget that he was trying to teach you a lesson about coming without permission. If he wasn't so deeply wired with self control he mightve said fuck the lesson and pulled his cock out to slide inside your weeping cunt.

But he wasn't a lesser man.

And no matter how hard he got, he loved watching you struggle to make yourself cum.

"M'sorry okay?" Gone was the trace of bratiness in your tone. All that was left was a little girl's pathetic whine and even that made him harder.

"M'sorry, I wont cum without your permission again-" you craned your head back. Your cloudy hair moved across his chest as you met his eyes, "Please help me," you hoped eyes displayed your desperation. Even if that weren't enough you knew your next words would be. "Please, Daddy-" he made a sharp intake of breath and you knew you had him.

"I need y-"

"I need to go to work-"

Your eyes nearly popped out of your skull as the man behind you moved to rid himself of you.

"What!? You're just going to leave like that?!"

"Who're you talking to?" He had asked so calmly, with his head tilted, corralling you into absolute silence.

"I-"

"Give it' till this afternoon," he wasn't a complete monster. He kissed you on your forehead, making you feel whole even for a split second before ridding himself of you once again.

"Can you be good for me until this afternoon?" You loved when he did that. You loved when he spoke down at you, as if you weren't sporting numerous degrees. As if you weren't a fully autonomous woman.

You liked the break he gave you from thinking.

"I can." You had said. Completely determined not to touch yourself until he arrived home.

All day, your brain had been fuzzy with thoughts of him. 'The dangers of being a housewife', your best friend had called it. He was consuming your every thought. Your mind was plagued by images of him inside you. Your mouth. Your cunt. Your mind.

You had no time for this. Not time for her.

"We?" You reiterate with your head slightly tilted as you lean against the door you were itching to slam shut in her face. "We should stick together?" You asked it as if hoping to make sense of how in what world a woman like her and a woman like you might ever be classified as 'we'. In front of you stood the seemingly perfect example of a nuclear housewife. Poodle puff golden hair, bright eerie smile and a body that could reproduce, seemingly at will.

"Yes!" The blonde woman said, "Us wives of veterans, we need to stick together-"

"Oh-" you were in the process of shaking your head, "I- don't really see myself as a product of Terry's-"

"I think we should have a little meet up tonight! We'll wrangle up the husbands and the kids-"

"I've got no kids," You said so curtly it could've given anyone a harsh chill.

"You and Terry have no children?" Judging by the look on her face you could swear you've just admitted to some form of bio terrorism.

"No kids?" She nodded gravely. Far too gravely. "H-How interesting, well. That's okay! I'll just call our babysitter- She's a lovely girl. Hopefully you find someone like her when you and Terry finally get to it-"

"When her and Terry get to what?" You hadn't even heard that roar of the truck easing up the driveway, your mind had been far too plagued with images of your childless marriage to really pay it any mind. But you're very much of him now as he appears behind that stupid little housewife.

Like Pavlov's dog, your body and all its machinations react to the sound of Terry's voice alone.

The gravel that seemed to roll in his esophagus. The way he dwarves the woman taking up your precious time. He had finally come home, but here you were, being occupied by your neighbors, dressed in nothing except a tight fitting night dress.

"Oh Terry!" The woman said, hoping to steal his attention, despite his eyes remaining fastened on you, "How lovely to finally meet! I was just telling your lovely wife we should all have a family meet up- she informed me that you two don't want kids?"

"Have-" You said so quickly, "I said we don't have kids. Not that we don't want any."

Without sparing the woman another glance, Terry strolls past her. His large bicep squeezes you into the frame of the door as he walks up behind you but you don't mind. In fact you suddenly feel calmer in his shadow. Your nerves are both calm and set alight as he moves his heavy arms around your waist.

"You explained yourself?" He bends down, his lips pressed against your ear, "You didn't need to do that." Your mouth stammered open as the woman by your doorstep pales.

"Well- I was just enquiring-" the woman attempts to salvage the situation but Terry’s already pulling you into the house.

"We'll come back to you about the dinner-”

“We could set a date right now and-”

“Excuse me,” Terry says, “We gotta go make that baby we apparently don't want-” you catch a final glimpse of that woman. Her mouth stammered open.

Terry's leading you towards the couch and you follow him, your fingers wrapped around his pinky. You swallow heavily watching his back muscles contract.

He's so big.

So in control.

It has your mind swimming in the pools of subspace as he lowers his frame to the couch. He pulls you into his lap and you yelp as the skirts of your dress fan around his lap.

For a moment all is quiet.

You evade eye contact and he tries to hide his smile as he forces you to interlock your hands behind his neck while his titan hands meet around your waist. You were quite literally trapped.

“That woman probably isn't going to talk to me again after that little display of yours,” you mumble lowly and he chuckles softly as he brings his nose to the crook of your neck and he breathes in.

“Try not to sound so pleased about that.”

“I have to make friends, Terry-” your breath stammers when you feel his pillow lips open up until he's pressing his tongue to the sensitive skin by your neck.

“Did you touch yourself?” He asks and despite his words holding that usual sliver of control, you can feel the slight eagerness to his actions. His steadily hardening cock straining through the front of his jeans and his restless hands moving underneath the skirt of your dress.

“No, you told me not to.”

“I've told you not to do many things,” he presses another kiss to your temple and you breathe in rather sharply when his fingers reach your inner thigh. “Sometimes you don't give a shit about what I say.”

“I promise I didn't touch myself,” it was becoming difficult to breathe. Your mind descended into lechery as his fingers inched up your thigh and you opened your legs slightly. “Honest.”

“Should I check the cameras?” Your body tensed ever so slightly and for someone as observant as Terry was trained to be, you knew he spotted it.

“We have cameras?”

“You think I'd just leave you in this hick ass town alone throughout the day and not have cameras in the house?”

“Oh- well-”

“Doesn't matter if you touched yourself, does it?” Your breathing swells as his fingers finally connect with the seat of your panties. He adjusts himself underneath you. You're absolutely soaked.

“No one can make you cum like I do,” He whispers, sliding your panties to the side, “Not even you.”

Your eyes grow hazy as his fingers begin to play with your aching cunt. It's everything you've needed and more.

“Say it-” You're teetering on the edge of a complete mental check-out as his fingers rub your clit. You squirm on top of him, searching for the seating position that would let you grind down on his hand but he keeps you still.

“Fuck-” he groans and for a split moment, you're nearly close.

Until he pulls his fingers away and you're once again whining and squirming with no sense of relief.

“You can't just-”

In a series of fluid and swift movements, Terry moves you off of his lap. Your back hits the couch as he hovers over you.

“what're you doing-”

“You thought I was kidding about making that baby?” He asks, so incredibly serious as he undoes his belt buckle and all you're able to do is lay supine and take whatever he gives

According to your family, everything about Terry Richmond had been a seemingly blood red flag: from his overtly frightening countenance, to his slightly unnerving marine status.

He is nothing but menacing as he hovers above you, parting your legs before reaching inside his jeans.

“You're squirming too much,” he says, “You want the cuffs?” Your throat dried with the recollection of the previous tike Terry had slapped his cuffs over your wrist. He had quite literally used your cunt to milk his cock and there was nothing you could do about it.

Despite loving the memory, and the sharp thrill it shoots straight to your clit, you wanna touch him, and you tell him as much.

He groans before lowering himself towards you.

“Shouldn't I take off-”

“Keep the dress on,” he lifts your hips before spreading your legs, for a moment he gets lost at what he sees There underneath all the pink frills and tulle.

“I'm going to get you pregnant,” he promises before lifting his eyes to meet yours, “Any objections?”

He's not smiling. His eyes are deep and hypnotic and you move your hips as if so incredibly needy to take anything he gives.

“No objections,” You shake your head and your words die in your throat when you feel your panties be swiped to the side once again. Terry's restraining himself. You can see it in the veins popping out of his neck.

You're not sure why.

“Green or Red?” His Eyes lift to meet you and you can feel the head of his cock press against your tight opening.

“Red,” you respond. “You can be rough- i just need y- FUCK-” he thrusts inside you, bottoming out almost immediately.

You didn't need any prep because you were already soaking through your underwear but your cunt still fought To bully his cock back out.

“Th-That hurts-” you grit your teeth as he begins to thrust shallowly inside you, despite having already bottom out. It's like he's searching for somewhere deeper to go and you both groan out loud at the thought.

“You’re so fucking wet, fuck-” He watched his cock slides back out completely before slamming it back in and you yelp at his brutal intrusion. It fulfills something ravenous in you, the way he lowers his hand to the side of your head before fucking into you with wreckless abandon.

“So fucking tight-”

“Fuckyoursobig-” your eyes are hollow and Terry knows from your slurred speech that you were fully in subspace.

“Shit- you tryna make me cum already, huh?”

Your bottom lips portudes and you look up at him, nodding dumbly, “You wanna be a good slut for your Daddy, don't you?”

The second he locks his thick palm around your throat, and you wear his hand like a collar, you're absolutely done for. Your hips lift to meet his thrusts and your tongue lolls out of your mouth.

“Such a fucking slut- shit-”

“Yo-Yours,” you moan, “Your slut-”

He immediately stills his hips before cursing aloud. Terry's lips crash down onto yours. A hungry kiss you weren't expecting but eagerly reciprocate.

“My pretty slut,” he nods his head in affirmation. patting down your head as if you always knew what to say. “That's right, baby.” You're bathed in the praise. You fucking absorbed it. “That's right, Clever Girl-”

“Oh my God, Daddy- please,” you lift your hips, urging him to continue drilling into you.

“You're such a good girl for me-” he continues to affirm as his hips move once more, “You gonna take my cun, aren't you, Pretty Girl? You gonna make Daddy proud and give him a baby-”

“Terry, ohmygod-” you can feel your cunt spasming around his cock.

“Ask.” He can see you teetering on the edge but his voice is dark and commanding. “You know better.” He warns. “Ask.”

“Please-” you search to hold onto something, anything that would stop you for cumming outright on your husband's cock, “Please let me cum, oh my god-”

He speeds up his own thrusts. Unbeknownst to you, your eagerness to take him, your whining and begging had him twitching inside you. It's like you became a vessel of his pleasure alone. You were good at that. You were good at making him the center of your universe.

“Cum for me, Pretty Girl.” It's all it takes for you to let yourself go completely. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as Terry squeezes your throat, sending you flying amongst the clouds. You curse and scream and your cunt is suffocating his cock until he can't handle it anymore.

“Gonna cum,” he affirms, his voice tense and his muscles tight, “Gonna cum so fucking hard inside my Pretty Girl-” even he had his limits. Soon he wasn't able to say anything. His words bled into uncontrollable groans as he trusted a steady stream of cum inside you.

You're patting down on his tense muscles, urging him to part with every single drop.

You're full.

So utterly full it has you seeing stars.

“That ought'a do it.” He says.

He’s nice Terry again.

[mulloey]

distracted

bad students must face the consequences of their behaviour. it doesn’t matter who your boyfriend is.

words: 2.9k

part of my february festival event

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warnings: dom!professors matz x sub!student reader, teacher-student relationship (hongjoong x you), power dynamics, threesome, punishment, spanking with ruler, very light anal play, face fucking, double penetration (mouth & pussy), under-negotiated kink, unprotected sex, sir kink, degradation, light dumbification etc

i am not responsible for the content you consume.

“What is this?”

He waves the sheet in front of your face indignantly and you recognise it instantly as the test you’d taken last week; the red D scrawled in the top corner gives you away and you huff. “How did you even—”

“Seonghwa,” he says, cutting you off. You’d roll your eyes if you thought you’d get away with it right now.

You knew it was a bad idea, really, dating Hongjoong; he may not have been your professor, but he is a professor, so you should’ve figured he’d be in cahoots with your teachers. It’s not like discretion was a massive concern, anyway; your relationship is an open secret among the staff. It’s technically not allowed, but you’re a grad student, an independent adult and your parents donate enough money to the school that neither of you would be in too much trouble if anyone did find out anyway. So you suppose you shouldn’t be surprised that, when you turned in a piss-poor exam, Seonghwa had run off tattling to your boyfriend. Dickhead.

“I was just having a bad day,” you say. “I studied, really. I don't know what happened.”

Neither of you believe that, but you push your lips into a pout and do your best to look contrite—to play the sweet, innocent girl your boyfriend loves to ruin.

“Joong…” You try to sound scared but you both know you’re not; there’s nothing he could do to you that you wouldn’t enjoy, after all. You’re just as sick as each other.

Hongjoong chuckles, clicking his tongue. He looks thoughtful for a moment, like he’s pretending to be conflicted over whether to punish you or not, but he’s not very good at hiding his excitement. The regretful sigh he lets out when he makes his decision is laughably disingenuous. “Bad girl,” he says, shaking his head. “You know I can’t let you get away with this, sweetheart.”

You open your mouth to respond but he doesn’t give you time; he shoves you down harshly, bending you over his desk so your ass is sticking up in the air. It’s a familiar position that you’ve found yourself in time and time again since you met him and you body prepares itself automatically; expecting him to spank you, you stick your ass up higher and wait with bated breath for the first blow. It doesn’t come. You crane your head around, confused. “Joong, what—” Oh.

You don’t need to finish the question; standing behind you, next to Hongjoong, is the very man who’d got you in this predicament in the first place— your medieval history professor, Park Seonghwa himself. He tilts his head, smiling sweetly. “Good afternoon.”

Your jaw drops. You hadn’t expected this—when did he even come in, anyway? “Joong—”

“You think we didn’t notice how you look at him?” Your boyfriend asks coolly. It’s only because of the cock in his hand, hard and already leaking, that you’re not worried he’s mad at you; no, he loves this. You should’ve known.

“Is that why you failed?” Seonghwa asks. “Too busy dreaming about me bending you over your desk? You have a boyfriend; an esteemed colleague of mine, in fact.” His tone is chiding and you feel yourself flush.

Hongjoong snorts almost petulantly. “As if she cares about that.”

“No?” Seonghwa asks. “What does she care about, then?”

“Pull her panties down and find out.”

Your cunt throbs painfully at the surety of the demand and the dark look in Seonghwa’s eyes as he obliges without hesitation. He doesn’t ask permission before he touches you—he already has it from the one who matters, after all—but when he pushes your skirt up your back, his hands still momentarily; you smile into the wood as you realise what they’re both looking at—the white, lacy panties sitting snugly across your pert cheeks.

“Well, isn’t that a sight.” Seonghwa’s voice is hoarse and affected as he rubs a hand across the delicate material. You feel yourself tense under his touch, the unfamiliar feeling of his skin on yours, and he gently pinches the soft flesh. “Relax,” he mumbles. “Be good, yeah? I won’t hurt you, I’ll be gentle.”

A sweet sounding lie; you can tell from the heaviness of his hand as it comes to rest on your ass that he has no such intentions. He fingers softly at the lace of your panties, sighing ruefully. “These really are beautiful,” he muses. “I hate to have to take them down like this, but bad students have to learn, don’t they?”

“They certainly do.” You crane your neck to follow your boyfriend’s voice and find him leaning against the wall behind Seonghwa, staring you down with familiarly cold eyes. He cocks an eyebrow when you finally catch his gaze. “Got something to say, precious?”

“No, sir,” you whisper.

“Turn around, then,” he smiles. “I’m just here to watch.”

You turn back, though more so he doesn’t see you roll your eyes than out of a desire to obey him. Seonghwa has carefully shimmied your panties down to the middle of your thighs and the cold air of the office bites at your sensitive pussy.

“Spread your legs,” he says. “Show me how wet you are.“

Blushing furiously, you part your legs, spreading them as far as you can without snapping the panties bunched around your thighs. Seonghwa hums, running a long finger through your wet folds. The touch is unexpected but Hongjoong’s trained you well enough that you manage to stay still despite your surprise. You whine a little when he pulls away and you hear both men chuckle.

“Professor Kim,” Seonghwa says. His voice has a new quality; delicate and flirtatious as he addresses your boyfriend. “Come and taste how wet she is.”

You hear Hongjoong approach the elder and try to move around to see it, but Seonghwa’s firm hand on your neck holds you still. “I don’t think so, bad girl,” he tuts. “Only good little girls get to watch. Keep still.”

“Good call,” Hongjoong purrs. “She’s always loved seeing me with other people. Little pervert would probably start humping the table if she saw me doing this.”

You hear the wet, lewd sounds of Hongjoong sucking at Seonghwa’s finger, lapping up your juices with a noise of pleasure. “Delicious little slut,” he chuckles. “Let’s get her properly disciplined so we can play with her how she wants.”

Somehow you hear the wide grin in Seonghwa’s voice as Hongjoong backs away. “I quite agree.”

His hands rests on your ass again, squeezing it softly. “This is what’s gonna happen, little one. You got a 48 on my exam, didn’t you?”

You’re almost embarrassed to hear the number and you know Hongjoong is too. “Yes,” you whisper.

“Yes, Professor will do,” he says. “You’re not my friend, sweetheart. You’re just a wayward student being put back on the right path.”

Shame courses through you but it would be a lie to say it’s anything but thrilling. “Yes, professor,” you whisper.

He taps your ass appreciatively. “Good girl. So, you got a 48 on my exam. What was the pass mark?”

“60, Professor,” you mumble.

“Now that’s not very hard to achieve, is it Professor Kim?”

“It’s not. The pass marks in my class are higher, in fact.”

You want to roll your eyes at their smug, jovial tones but you’re too aroused now to do anything but anticipate.

“A pathetic score, really.” Seonghwa’s voice is closer than ever and you feel his presence just inches away. “Especially for such a bright young woman. I think you need to learn to separate your head—” he gathers a piece of your hair, gently folding it behind your ear “—and your pussy, hm?”

“Yes, Professor.”

“Good.“ Something long and thin taps at your bare skin and you recognise it instantly—the wooden ruler Hongjoong keeps in his desk drawer for when he’s feeling particularly on-the-nose about the taboo nature of your relationship.

“I’m going to hit you with this twelve times,” Seonghwa purrs. “For each of the marks you easily could have gotten if you hadn’t been too busy imagining my cock in your mouth. Yeah?”

You nod, feeling yourself pulse. “Yes, Professor.”

“Repeat after me, alright?” The first hit is quick and sharp, spread over your ass and it makes you gasp. Seonghwa chuckles and rubs the reddening flesh before he grabs your hair, yanking your head back to whisper in your ear. “One,” he says. “I’m sorry for being such a slut, Professor.”

You repeat it quietly and he tuts. “Louder than that, love. I’m sure your boyfriend wants to know you’re learning your lesson.”

You oblige, repeating it louder and he makes a noise of satisfaction before the ruler comes down again, this time at the tops of your thighs. “Two,” he says. “I’m sorry for thinking with my pussy instead of my head.”

“Two, I’m… I’m sorry for thinking with my pussy instead of my head.”

The next hit lands in the same spot. “Three. I’m sorry for dripping over Professor Kim’s desk just from being spanked.”

You blush in embarrassment; you’d half hoped he wouldn’t notice, but that was a tall order anyway. When it comes to Hongjoong and anything to do with him, you’ve never been subtle.

The next hits follow the same pattern, spread across your ass and thighs with each one making you gasp louder than the last.

“Four. I’m sorry for making Professor Park waste his time disciplining me.”

“Five. I’m sorry for daydreaming about choking on another man’s cock.”

“Six. I’m sorry for being arrogant enough to think I’d get away with such an embarrassing performance.”

The last one hits you right on your dripping pussy, making you scream and he grabs your hair, spinning you around to face him and your boyfriend; your eyes hone in on Hongjoong’s cock, pulsing in his hands before Seonghwa forces your attention back to him. “Twelve,” he growls. “I’m sorry for being such a cockwhore that I’m making Professor Park break his rule about sleeping with students.”

You can’t help but grin as you repeat his words, feeling proud. Of course, you knew from the moment you turned around and saw him standing there what was going to happen, but it’s nice to hear it from him. He smiles, grasping your neck gently. “Did you like that?” He asks. “Getting spanked by your professor while your boyfriend jerks off to it?”

“Yeah,” you breathe. “I liked it.”

“Well, now that you’ve learnt your lesson,” he says, “I think it’s time you got fucked, no?”

You nod and turn to your boyfriend; he tilts his head, nodding towards his hard cock. “You know what to do,” he says.

“Yes, sir.” You sink to your knees, staring up at Seonghwa and sending him a teasing smile before crawling towards Hongjoong. You open your mouth, letting him push his dick inside; after all this time together, he doesn’t need to ease you into it anymore and can go straight to fucking your mouth and you take it diligently, opening your throat the way he’s trained you to. You hear Seonghwa whistle, admiring.

“She sucks cock like a fucking pro,” he laughs; the arousal in his voice is thick and unmistakable. “You’ve trained her well, Hongjoong.”

Hongjoong laughs too, patting your head. “I had an excellent student,” he grins. You smile around him at the praise and he curses. “You’re too good at this, babe, Jesus. Gonna cum before I even fuck you.”

He thrusts into your mouth a few more times before pulling out abruptly, shoving you off of him and in an instant Seonghwa’s hands are in your hair as he pulls you to your feet and shoves you back over the desk. You collide painfully with the wood but you barely notice; you’re used to being manhandled by now, and it only makes you more excited.

Large hands you recognise as Seonghwa’s grab your ass cheeks, pulling them apart slowly; the air hits your exposed holes and makes you jump in surprise but you quickly regain your composure. As you still yourself again you feel Hongjoong’s finger running gently across your asshole, almost like he’s inspecting it, before it slides down to toy with your pussy.

“Hm…” Seonghwa’s voice is teasing. “What’s your favourite hole of hers, Professor Kim?”

“What a question,” Hongjoong chuckles and you hear the smile in his voice. His finger prods gently at your rim, making you tense unconsciously and he tuts, lightly slapping the tight little hole. It’s a subtle, painless chastisement but it makes you whine all the same. “Now, now, kitty cat,” he chuckles. “I didn’t train you to squirm, did I?”

“No, sir,” you mumble.

“Good,” he says. “To answer your question, Hwa, I’d have to say her pussy. I love her ass, of course, but nothing compares to the way that little cunt clings to my dick like it’s just begging for a baby.”

“Well that does sound nice.” Seonghwa’s hands leave your ass, returning to your pussy to spread you open. “It looks snug,” he says. “What do you think, little one? Want your professor to breed you?”

It takes you a moment for your brain to catch up with the rest of you and you frown in confusion. “I- you mean you, Professor Park?” You ask. It comes out as more of a strangled cry; your head is a mess of arousal and you barely even register what he’s saying to you, let alone comprehend it fully.

He laughs, patting your soft skin gently. “Yes, perhaps I should be more clear. It must be confusing to be bending over in front of two of your teachers.”

Your face burns at the obvious mockery; the degrading, sneering tone of his voice but you say nothing. Seonghwa hums. “So?” He asks sweetly. “You want me in your cunt, baby girl?”

“Yes,” you breathe. “Please, Professor.”

“There’s those manners,” he praises.

He keeps a firm grip on your hips as he slides in from behind; the feeling of his skin against your still burning ass is uncomfortable, but the way his cock is stretching you as he buries himself inside you is the only thing your brain can process right now.

He’s just as big as Hongjoong, maybe a little bigger, but his thrusts are more fluid and controlled; where Hongjoong fucks you like an animal hungry for more, Seonghwa fucks you with precision; with intention. His hands on your hips are firm yet gentle and the way he finds you in your deepest places has your head spinning with euphoria. “Jesus,” he curses. “Pretty little thing, aren’t you?”

You open your mouth to respond, barely getting a whine out before you feel hands in your hair, yanking at it to pull you forward. Hongjoong comes into view on the other side of the desk, his dick somehow still hard as he feeds it into your mouth. “There you go,” he coos. “Keep it hard, baby.”

You nod as best as you can and the friction against his dick makes your boyfriend groan. “Fuck,” he mutters. “You’re so fucking good with cock you could make me cum on accident.”

The feeling of two dicks inside you makes it hard to focus on either one; let alone to begin to process the filthy words they spit down at you. Intesd you close your eyes, letting the tears fall as Hongjoong starts to fuck your throat again; you’re limp against the desk now, held up solely by the wood and by the two men using you to satisfy themselves. “Oh shit,” Hongjoong says, seeing your dazed expression. “Baby’s gone dumb already.” He strokes your hair gently, a small comfort between punishing thrusts. “You okay, little dove?”

You groan in response, unable to do much else; it makes them laugh and Seonghwa pats your ass affectionately. “You’re doing so well,” he says. “I’m almost there, sweetheart. Gonna fill you up real nice, yeah?”

“Y-yeah,” you gasp.

The feeling of Seonghwa’s thrusts growing faster and harder and more desperate is overwhelming; coupled with the sensation of Hongjoong’s cock hitting the back of your throat again and again, it’s almost unbearable. Your fingers claw against the wood, surely leaving marks but you don’t care; you feel unlike you ever have before, stuffed full and used by two of the most attractive men you’ve ever even imagined.

You’re in so deep that you don’t even realise it’s over until the emptiness of your mouth and cunt becomes obvious; you feel cum leaking from your hole, a wet substance dripping down the desk and only when you look closer do you figure out what it is—squirt. You squirted. You squirted all over your boyfriend’s desk with another man’s cock in your pussy and you’ve never been more fucked out and satisfied than you are now.

When you stand up fully your legs, numbed and weakened by their abuse, start to give out but Hongjoong is there in an instant; he catches you in his arms, lowering himself to the ground so he can cradle you in his lap. You’re faintly aware of Seonghwa’s voice and strong hands stroking your hair before he’s gone, and it’s just you and Hongjoong.

“Good girl,” he mutters. “You took that so well.”

“Really?”

“Of course,” he smiles. “I only hope your performance in Professor Park’s class improves soon. Otherwise he’ll have to tutor you if you want to keep your spot in his class.”

Your heart jumps. “What?”

“Uni rules,” he shrugs, appearing nonchalant but the knowing smile on his face tells all. “If you fail two exams in a row, that’s what happens.”

You don’t know why he seems so surprised when you turn up in his office a month later with a D-minus and an already leaking pussy. He always knew you were insatiable.

Lucky for you, so are they.

—

comments/reblogs appreciated! i’m not sure im super happy with the ending but we move. let me know your thoughts! love🖤🖤🖤

ateez taglist: @pixie0627 @hon3ysun @bbdeongi @hwaromi @tangerineastronaut @fancypeacepersona @aloevendetta (unable to tag: @lemonkait00 @mylovelymito)

february festival taglist: @hohongsan @nopension

[mangionebabymama]

“six thirty” — Luigi Mangione

“Whatcha gonna do when I’m bored and I wanna play video games at 2 am? What if I need a friend? Will you ride ‘til the end?” - “six thirty” by Ariana Grande

Word Count: 3.0k

Warnings: LOTS of pining and yearning, sort of slow-burn online romance, but it's also platonic, maybe? This also contains some slight mentions of depression and loneliness; please proceed with caution.

A/N: Inspired by this ask from a while ago, where those particular lyrics of "six thirty" about playing video games at 2 am have always stuck with me. If you don't know this about me by now, I am a Cancer sun, and it shows. I am emotional, and I'm going to be an emotional writer. Please note that this is purely fictional, but these feelings are real.

The glow of Luigi’s monitor lit up the dim room, casting long shadows across the walls. It was 2 a.m., and the quiet hum of his computer was the only sound breaking the silence. He shifted in his chair, wincing slightly as the faded memories of his surgery still lingered in his movements. Recovery had been slow, and lately, he’d found himself retreating into the digital world more and more. The real world felt heavy, distant—like it wasn’t his anymore. Like he was watching his life happen from somewhere far away. His family and friends tried to reach out, but he’d been pulling away, retreating into himself.

His cursor hovered over his Steam library, scrolling aimlessly. He wasn’t even sure what he was looking for. Just something to fill the void. That’s when he noticed it—the little green dot next to your username. You were online. His heart gave a little leap, and before he could reconsider his decision, a notification appeared from you.

Can’t sleep either? Is it the insomnia again or were you hoping to see if I was up?

Luigi’s fingers flew over the keyboard for a moment, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips despite the heaviness in his chest. He glanced at the clock on his desk— now 2:01 AM—and then back at the glowing screen of his monitor. The room was darkling, lit only by the soft blue light of his computer, and the hum of the fan inside the tower was the only sound accompanying his thoughts.

Pep: Both.

The reply came almost instantaneously, like a reflex, as if you’d been waiting for him. 

You: Figured. You’ve been on late a lot lately. Not that I’m complaining—company’s nice.

Luigi leaned back in his chair, letting out a slow breath. His back ached faintly, a dull reminder of the surgery he’d had months ago. The doctors had said he’d recover fully, but they hadn’t warned him about the mental toll it would take. The weeks spent in bed, staring at the ceiling, had given him too much time to think. And now, even though he was physically better, he couldn’t shake the weight that seemed to settle deeper into his chest every day.

Pep: Yeah, I guess I have. Sleeping’s been… hard.

You: Hard as in “can’t fall asleep” or hard as in “don’t want to”?

Luigi hesitated. You always seemed to know the right questions to ask, the questions that cut straight through the noise and got to the heart of things. He wasn’t sure if it was comforting or terrifying.

Pep: Both.

There was a pause before your next message appeared. 

You: You’ve been quiet lately. Not just tonight—like, in general. Even when we’re playing. You okay?

He stared at the words, his chest tightening. How does she always know? He wondered. You’d never met in person, never even seen each other’s faces, but somehow, you always seemed to see him. 

Pep: I don’t know. I guess… I’ve just been feeling kind of lost. I don’t even know how to explain it.

You: Try. 

Luigi let out a short, humorless laugh. Leave it to you to cut straight to the point. He ran a hand through his hair, trying to find the words.

Pep: It’s like… everything just feels heavy, you know? Like I’m just going through the motions. I’ve been distancing myself from everyone—my family, my friends—but I don’t even know why. I just… I can’t seem to connect with anything anymore. Except this. 

He added, gesturing to the screen even though you couldn’t see him. 

Talking to you. Playing games. It’s like the only time I feel… I don’t know, alive, I guess. 

The cursor blinked as he waited for your response, his heart beating a little faster than it should have.

After a moment, you wrote back. 

You: You’re not alone in that. I think a lot of people feel that way sometimes. Especially now, with everything going on in the world. It’s easy to get lost in your own head.

Pep: But it’s not just that. It’s like… I’m stuck. Like I’m just watching my life pass by, and I don’t know how to make it stop. I don’t know how to fix it.

There was another pause, longer this time.

You: Have you talked to anyone about this? Like, really talked?

Luigi shook his head, though he knew you couldn’t see him. 

Pep: Not really. I don’t want to bother anyone with it. And I don’t even know what I’d say.

You: You’re not bothering me

And you don’t have to have all the answers. Sometimes, just saying it out loud helps.

Or typing it out, lol

He smiled faintly, a warmth spreading through his chest that he hadn’t felt in a long time. 

Pep: Thanks. Seriously. I don’t know what I’d do without you.

You: Probably be even more of a mess

You joked about that last bit of your message, and he could almost hear the teasing tone in your voice as he let out a chuckle reading what you said. 

Pep: Ya, probably

There was a comfortable silence between you both, broken only by the soft sound of his keyboard as he typed some more.

What about you? Why are you up so late?

You: Couldn’t sleep either. Insomnia’s a bitch. Plus, I was kind of hoping you’d be on.

Luigi’s heart skipped a beat, and he had to remind himself to breathe.

Pep: Yeah?

You: Yeah. You make the nights better.

He felt his face heat up.

Pep: You make them better, too. 

Another pause preceded your following message.

You: You know, it’s okay to not be okay. And it’s okay to lean on people when you need to. You don’t have to go through this alone.

Luigi stared at the words, his throat tightening. He wasn’t sure if it was the late hour or the raw honesty of the conversation, but he felt tears prick at the corners of his eyes. He typed, his fingers lingering uncertainly over the keys.

Pep: I don’t want to be a burden. 

You: You’re not a burden. 

If anything, you’re the opposite. You’re important to me, Luigi—more than you realize.

His breath caught in his throat, and he had to blink back the tears that threatened to fall. 

Pep: You’re important to me too.

His hands shook as he typed. 

More than I think I’ve ever admitted.

There was a long silence, and for a moment, he wondered if he’d said too much. Yet, your response showed up, and he felt a surge of adrenaline in his chest.

You: Maybe we should admit it more. To each other. To ourselves. Life’s too short to keep everything bottled up.

Luigi nodded, even though you couldn’t see him.

Pep: Yeah. Maybe we should.

He tilted back in his seat, caught in a strange sensation of relief intertwined with fragility. He wasn’t sure where this conversation was going, but at last, he felt like he wasn’t alone.

You: You know…

Sometimes, I think about what it would be like to meet you in person.

Luigi felt a flutter in his heart once more. 

Pep: Yeah?

You: Yeah. I think it’d be… nice. To talk face-to-face. To really see you.

Pep: I think it’d be nice too.

You: Maybe, one day, we will

Pep: One day, for sure

The cursor blinked on the screen, expecting the next words to appear. For once, Luigi felt a spark of something he hadn’t felt in months: hope.

You: Until then, I’m here. 

Whenever you need me.

Luigi smiled, his chest swelling with gratitude. 

Pep: Same goes for you. Always.

The cursor blinked lazily on the screen, as if it, too, was holding on for Luigi to gather his courage. He sat in the dim glow of his monitor, the rest of the room swallowed by the darkness of the early hours. His fingers hovered over the keyboard, shaking, as if betraying the weight of the words he was about to type. He swallowed hard, his throat dry.

Why now? He thought. Why does it feel like I can only tell the truth at 2 a.m. when the world is asleep?

But he knew the answer. It wasn’t the time that mattered. It was you. The way you listened without judgment and your words seemed to reach into the parts of him he’d locked away. You made him feel like maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t as broken as he thought.

He took a deep breath, his chest tightening as he started typing.

Pep: There’s something I’ve never told anyone.

He wrote away, his words appearing on the screen in a rush as if they were desperate to escape. He paused, his heart pounding in his ears. Was he really going to do this? Was he really going to lay himself bare like this?

Just as he was about to second-guess himself, your reply appeared up.

You: You can tell me anything, Luigi. You know that.

He exhaled shakily, his fingers moving almost of their own accord.

Pep: It’s about why I’ve been so… distant lately. It’s not just the surgery. Not just the insomnia. It’s… I’ve always felt like I don’t belong. Like I’m on the outside looking in. Even with everybody in my life. I try to act like I’m okay, like I’m fine, but I’m not. I haven’t been for a long time.

He stopped, his chest heaving as if he’d just run a marathon. His eyes darted to the clock in the corner of the screen—2:04 AM. The world was still asleep, but he felt more awake than in months.

Your reply came quickly, longing for him to say those words all along. 

You: That’s a heavy burden to carry alone. You don’t have to, you know. You’re not as alone as you think you are.

Luigi’s lips trembled as he absorbed your words, a tight knot swirling in his throat. Deep down, he yearned to trust you, to hold on to the fragile hope that he wasn’t as solitary as he often felt. Yet, the weight of loneliness pressed heavily on him, an ever-present shadow that made believing in that hope a daunting challenge.

Pep: It’s not just that

He typed, his fingers moving faster now, as if they couldn’t keep up with the thoughts tumbling out of his head. 

I’ve been struggling 

with something else

Something I’ve never told anyone. Not even my closest friends.

The cursor blinked mockingly, sitting tight for him to continue. He swallowed hard, his stomach churning. This was it. The moment of truth. The moment he either let it all out or shut it away forever.

You: Take your time, Luigi. I’m here.

He closed his eyes for a moment, gathering his courage. When he opened them, he started typing again, the words spilling out, his cup runneth over with transparency. 

Pep: I’ve always felt like I was different. Like there was something wrong with me. Something I couldn’t put into words. It’s not just the loneliness. It’s like… I’ve been searching for something my whole life, but I don’t know what it is. And it’s tearing me apart.

His hands trembled as he pressed the enter key, the letters materializing on the screen in sharp black and white. A rush of vulnerability washed over him, as if he had peeled away a layer of skin, revealing the raw, bleeding chaos lurking beneath. It was an eerie sensation, as though he was standing naked before an unseen audience, laid bare and utterly exposed.

His heart pounded as he waited for your reply, each second stretching into an eternity. When your message finally appeared, it was simple but profound.

You: Thank you for trusting me enough to share that. You’re not alone in feeling that way. A lot of people feel lost, like they’re searching for something they can’t quite name. It’s part of being human. But you don’t have to figure it all out right now. 

Just take it one step at a time, one day at a time.

Luigi’s breath caught in his throat as he read your words. It wasn’t judgment or pity that he saw in them. It was understanding. Compassion. And something else—something that made his chest ache in a way he couldn’t quite explain.

Pep: I don’t know where to start

He confessed, his fingers shaking as he typed. 

I feel like I’m stuck in this… this loop. Like I’m just going through the motions, but I’m not really living. I don’t know how to break out of it.

Your response was prompt, as though you had anticipated him saying those words. 

You: Start by being honest with yourself. About what you want, what you need. It doesn’t have to be all at once. Just take small steps. And remember, you don’t have to do it alone. I’m here. As much as you’ll let me be.

Luigi's vision swam before him as he absorbed your message, a lump rising stubbornly in his throat. He scrubbed at his eyes, fighting back the tide of emotions that surged within him—gratitude coursing through his veins, relief washing over him like a gentle wave, and a flutter of fear that danced just beneath the surface. Yet, amid this tumult, there was something else—a warm, comforting sensation enveloping him, as if he were being wrapped in a soft, reassuring hug that eased the weight on his shoulders.

Pep: I don’t know why you’re so kind to me.

He typed, his fingers moving slowly now as if each word carried the weight of his heart. 

I don’t feel like I deserve it.

You: You don’t have to earn kindness, Luigi. You deserve it just because you’re you. And you’re worth it. Don’t ever doubt that.

He stared at the screen, his breath hitching. Those words—those simple, powerful words—struck something deep inside him, something he’d buried long ago—a tiny spark of hope, flickering in the darkness.

Pep: I don’t know what to say. I just… Thank you. For being here. For listening. For… for seeing me.

You: Always, Luigi. Always.

He closed his eyes, letting out a shaky breath. For the first time in what felt like forever, he felt like he could breathe. Like the weight on his chest had shifted, just a little. It wasn’t gone, but it was bearable. And for now, that was enough.

Pep: There’s one more thing. Something I’ve never told anyone. Not even myself, really.

He paused, his fingers trembling. This was it. The moment of truth. The moment he either let it all out or shut it away forever.

You: You can tell me anything, Luigi. I’m here.

He closed his eyes, gathering his courage. When he opened them, he started typing again, the words spilling out in a raw, unfiltered stream.

Pep: I think… I think I’ve been searching for someone. Not just anyone, but… you. I don’t know how to explain it, but talking to you, it feels like… like I’ve finally found what I’ve been looking for. I know it sounds crazy, but—

Your reply interrupted him, cutting off his words before he could finish.

You: It’s not crazy, Luigi. I feel it, too.

His breath caught in his throat, his heart pounding in his chest. He stared at the screen, his mind racing. Did you really mean it? Or was it just the late hour, the vulnerability of the moment, making you say things you might not normally say?

Pep: Do you really mean that?

As he typed, his fingers erratically tremored; he couldn’t keep up with the thoughts tumbling out of his head. 

Or is it just the insomnia talking?

You: I mean it, Luigi. I’ve felt it, too. This connection between us. It’s real. 

It’s always been real. 

Pep: I want it to be real.

You: Then let’s make it real. 

His pulse quickened. The compulsion hung in the air, heavy and loaded. He’d thought about it—more times than he could count. He’d imagined what it would be like to hear your voice, to see your face, to feel your presence beside him. But it felt like a dream, something just out of reach.

Pep: But there’s so much distance. And I… I don’t know if I’m ready for that. If I’m even capable of it. I know you’re real, and this is, but I want to feel it, too. 

The honesty in his words surprised him. He hadn’t meant to say so much, but something about the late hour, the quiet, you—it made it impossible to hold back.

You: I get it. I really do. But… what if we didn’t have to figure it all out right now? What if we just… let ourselves want it? Even if it’s just for tonight.

I mean… what if we stopped pretending like this isn’t something real? Like we’re just two strangers who happen to be online at the same time. Because we’re not. We’re more than that. 

And… I don’t want to hide it anymore.

Luigi gazed at the words, his chest constricting. He felt naked and vulnerable, yet also… relieved. It was as if someone had torn off a bandage he hadn’t known was there.

Pep: I don’t want to hide it, either. I do want this. I want you. Even if it’s just like this, for now. Even if it’s just words on a screen. It just feels so real to me.

You: Then let’s stop pretending. Let’s just… be. Together. Even if it’s just for tonight.

He hesitated for a moment, his heart pounding in his chest. He let out a slow breath, feeling the pressure ease slightly, now knowing that deep down, he understood what he wanted—he wanted you, and at long last, you were there, waiting for him. He was no longer alone. At this moment, going forward for however long the night would last, it would be just you and him—and only you and him. And it was going to be real. 

Then, slowly, he typed.

Pep: Okay. Let’s be together.

[shanefuckingscott]

Building a life for with you. 🦾

Sevika promises a better life for you, she'd fight in every battle in Zaun, but can she win the battle between herself? 🦾

Warning: Angst with comfort at the end, Sevika being a jerk, Reader addicted to shimmer, horrible writing, barely proofread

🚫Men and Minors DNI🚫

This all started when Silco died. Sevika was rarely at home, even when he was alive, but still, she made it up to you in ways she can. You understood her job, you were there with here since day one. When she was with Vander, fighting on the bridge, and till she met Silco, you were there to support her. Everytime she comes home late with cuts snd bruises, she reminds that she's doing this for you, to have a better future, for your freedom.

Lately, she's been coming home once every week. She probably slept in Silco's office again, and you know she's trying her hardest to keep things running, while still finding a resolve for the other Chem-baron's turf wars. When she came home, you greeted her with her her favourite food for dinner, but she barely looked at it, and just went to bed. You, of course, being concerned for her well being, you follow her, and rub her back. "Is everything all right?" You ask with a hint of worry in your tone. She scoffs "Yeah, never better" You hear the sarcasm in her voice, and you go to her face, and kiss her, "Babe, please, take a break. Just this once. I need you home, I miss you, and every time you get home lately, you barely notice me, you don't talk to me, so please, can you just, talk?" you plead, you were almost in tears, seeing your girlfriend like this, your situation, everything feels like it's falling apart.

"Look, please, cut me some slack. I'm busy everyday dealing with everyone, just please get off my back just this once." That hurt. That hurt more than it should have. Maybe it was because you're sensitive. You try to understand her line of work as best as you can, but even you were only human. "I understand..." And with that, you get off her, and she's already snoring. She doesn't know, but you slept on the couch that day.

You could feel a rift between you and Sevika's relationship getting bigger and bigger by the day. She comes home with a new arm, with someone's blood on her, and she just casually mentions Smeech and her got into a fight, and wanted no more questions. You try your best, your absolute best to keep you too from falling apart. You try to make Sevika's day a little better, cooking for her, giving her space, preparing her lunch that she never eats, she comes home with the food already spoiled, and just leaves it for you to clean. Every night, she doesn't know, but you're not next to her. Or maybe she does. Maybe she just doesn't care. She hasn't said 'I love you' to you in weeks, she hasn't smile, hugged, or even kissed you.

The last straw was when she came home drunk after some fight with a piltie, and her girlfriend. She had bruises everywhere, she even had bitemarks on her. She looked like shit. You rushed to ask her if she was okay, and what happened, but she just pushed you away when you tried to give her a hug, and she just walked passed you. That was your breaking point. With tears in your eyes, you ask "Do you still even love me at all?" You were trying to hold your tears in, and stop them from spilling, much to no avail. So you're just wiping your face, not looking at her. "I'm not in the mood for this." She just says, not caring. And that was it. You lost your Sevika. You even wondered if she even was yours in the first place. Maybe you're just someone that keeps her grounded once in awhile, but as much as you love her, you were wondering if she felt the same anymore. Or at all. Everytime she was in the house, it felt like you were talking to a brick wall. And that’s when it dawned on you, that maybe she doesn't care about you as much as she says she does. You saw her lunch spoiled again, and you cried. That was it.

While she was in the bathroom, you were already fixing your things as quickly as possible. She probably wouldn't care if you were doing it infront of her. You hide your things, and you pretend to read a book in your bed. She just looks at you, and then she proceeds on doing what she's doing, and she lays in bed, facin gaway from you. You could gear her sigh, and you were trying your best not to cry. You were both quiet for a bit, until you finally decide to break the silence, and the tension between you two. With a different tone of voice, you just calmly ask her, "Do you still love me?" she doesn't respond. "Do you still love me, Sevika?" your eyes starting to wet, but you were met with no response again. The tears are now running down your face, but you try your best to cry silently, as you put the book down, you finally lay in bed sniffling, and till you just say, "Goodnight, Sevika. I love you." And that was the last thing heard from that night.

When Sevika woke up, she was just about to make a quick trip to the bathroom, and then head to work. When she notices the lack of your presence. She tries looking for you in the kitchen, in the bedroom again, in the bathroom, the living room, and outside. You weren't there. Where were you? She went back to the kitchen, and saw a note on the refrigerator she failed to see earlier. It wrote,

"My love, I've been with you through everything, I was with you on your worst days, and I was with you on your best days. There's no doubt in my heart how much I loved you. And I still do, but lately, I've been feeling that maybe you don't love me too. I know you always say, 'Everything I do, I do for you' which I appreciated, truly, but lately, I feel like our relationship is only one sided now, and it hurts. I trycto give you th love you want, and now, I just realized that maybe the only way you'll love me too, is when I'm far away from you. I'll miss you very much, every single day. I'll miss the days we were happy together, the days that you were happy with me. I hope someday, you find someone that'll make you as happy, as you made me these last few years.

– Sincerely, yours Y/N"

Sevika didn't know she could feel this hurt. She can't. She knows she's been pushing you away, she knows it's her that didn't value your efforts, she knows it was her that made you feel like you weren't important. She knows how hard you tried to keep you both together. She knows she fucked up. And now, you're gone.

The whole morning, she couldn't think straight while she was working. All she kept thinking was you, where have you been? It was like you had planned to leave, that's what hurt her the most. The note was true, you stuck around, when everything was going bad, and supported her. You were there. And now things are resolved, it was like you were one of her problems that had goe on their own. But you weren't. You're the whole reason she fights every single day, even though she failed to show you. She wants you back, she needs you back.

For the past few weeks, she's been looking for you everywhere, asking around, but she's not hearing from you. All she does is drink, and go home. Every night, before she falls asleep, she silently cries, and misses you. She smells your pillows before she falls asleep, and she hugs them. It was the only thing left of you. It was as if you were never there. Although your smell still lingers. She misses your presence. She misses the homecook meals you make her, she misses when you would greet her from work. Your face, when she comes back. Your smile, just, you as a whole. She misses you.

She feels regret of the times she let you sleep alone, the times she didn't say 'I love you' to you. The times she was tired from work, and she couldn't see what you were making her, but she knows you're right behind her, cleaning her wounds. Kissing her back, and then getting up, to give her space. It gets so hard every day, where she doesn't see you on the couch, reading your favourite book. She doesn't see your face smiling at her everytime you see her. She knows she's not the perfect lover, but she still wondered why you stick around. All of the things she didn't appreciate when you were there, she longs for now. She'd kill to hear your voice, to smell your scent, and to see your smile again.

A month goes by, she had a haircut, because you weren't there to tie her hair up for her, she quit smoking, and she got a new piercing. She's still actively looking for you, though. Everytime there's a rally, she always looks around to find you, but you're never there. The house that used to be a home for her is just a place where she sleeps now. She spends most of her time, drinking, gambling, taking care of the chem-barons, and or looking for you.

Until one day, your friend came up to Sevika. She told her where you're staying, she told her that you got new apartment. But that wasn't the reason she came to her. She said she hasn't heard from you in awhile, and you weren't answering her calls, and opening the door when she knocked. She got worried, and she had a hunch of what was happening, so she immediately went to Sevika. When Sevika heard the news, it was like her stomach dropped. She stopped to process everything she learned about you. But then she snapped out of it. "Take me to her."

When she got to your new apartment, it was much smaller than your old house together. She knocked at your door, to get no answer. She knocked again harder, but you still weren't answering. At this point she's getting more worried than ever, more worried than she's ever been. You leaving was one thing, since she knows she'll find her ways to you. But she was worried you died. She's now panting, her heart was racing. She's calling out your name, while knocking loudly. She went to peak to the window to you room, her heart stopped.

You were right there, with empty vials of shimmer in your hand. Some were scattered on the floor. You were laying there, it was like you were just asleep. "Fuck" she days to herself. She knew that shimmer was bad, and she was also addicted to it once. But, she never expected to see you resorting this. She knew she was the only one you had left, since you had no family, but she didn't know you were suffering this much. It was all so heavy in her heart, as it was on yours. But she couldn't think of her self right now.

She bursts the door open, and pics you up. She listens to your heartbeat. It was faint. She couldn't keep herself from crying any longer, as she carries, and takes you to Silco's medics. "Please, help her, do anything just don't let her die!" She orders, she was worried about you. She typically wasnt the one to cry, but all she could think about was you getting back to her, and it hurts her to think that there was a chance that you might not. She clenched her heart, when the doctors took you away to pump all the drugs out of your body. When they took you away, and she was all alone, she had an outburst, and she didn't leave until they tell her she could see you again.

You were now stabilized, but you were left in a coma, due to you overdosing. Sevika cries, day and night, waiting for the day you wake up. She doesn't drink anymore, she doesn't smokke. She makes sure she's with you at times where she doesn't have work to do. She talks to you in your coma, hoping you can hear her pleading for you to wake up, and apologizing to you for not being a good lover. She tells you about her day. She often talks about Jinx, and Isha, while you're out. What she had for lunch, and she tells you how much she misses your cooking. She falls asleep on a chair and rests her head on your bed.

When you finally woke up, your head felt heavy. You blink for a moment, when u feel weight on your leg thighs. That's when you see her. You heart beats fast, and it can actually be seen and heard on the machine. Sevika woke up worried, when she saw your heartbeat spike up, and her eyes go to your face, and she freezes. You woke up. She goes to hug, and kiss you, she's telling you sorry a million times, but you don't have the energy to hug her back, so you just smile. And suddenly, tears start rolling down your face, and Sevika stops as she hears you sniffle. "B-Babe! I'm so sorry about everything, I shouldn't have done that to you, you have no idea how much I regret everything I did to you, I want to be better, for us, for you, I know I'm not a perfect—" You kiss her.

For the first time in a while, you both feel genuinely happy again. Together. The kiss lasted for a while, and admittedly it was one of the best kisses you had your whole relationship. You both pull back to catch your breaths, but she pulls your face closer to hers, and whispers "I love you." You guys cry together the whole night in the hospital, after the nurses give you a check up. She's right beside you, re-telling the stories she shared you in your coma. You saw her smiling again, and your face is filled with joy. She's happy to see your smile too, and admitting that it was the first thing she misses about you.

Who knew one of you and Sevika's best dates would be in a hospital, but you wouldn't change a thing about it. You wouldn't change a thing about her. You're happy as long as she's hapoy, and she's happy as long as you're happy. The whole night was an emotional roller coaster of laughing and crying together, but ever since that night, you felt tour relationship with Sevika get stronger, and you're now alot closer.

After a few months, you both swore off drinking, smoking, and taking shimmer all together. Except that time she finally became a council. You both share a drink together to toast her achievement. And you're right there by her side, like you said you would. It was one of the many things Sevika loves about you. You both kept your promises to each other. She may not be the perfect girlfriend, or the perfect person, but she knows she's gonna get married to one.

Sevika proposed to you on your anniversary, now that she's given you the thing you thought was impossible, but everythings possible with Sevika. The freedom, the better future, the world she said she'd build for you. But she just now realized, she was building it WITH you.

And you lived happily, ever, after.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Yes, it's all cheezy, I couldn't keep hurting myself, or you for too long. heh.

[luckymilkshakerebel]

REJECTION

Genre: angst, sulking, heartbreak, comfort

Cast: seungmin x you

It was another day of disappointment. You had spent hours in the kitchen, carefully following the recipe your mother-in-law had shared, your hands moving with practiced precision. The smell of spicy kimchi stew filled the room, making your mouth water in anticipation. You couldn’t wait to see Seungmin’s face light up when he tasted it. After all, it was for him—you wanted to impress him, to show him you could be a part of his world, learning to cook his food, and blending your cultures together.

But when he walked in, there was the familiar line, the one that stung each time he said it: "I’m on a diet."

You smiled, but it didn’t reach your eyes. “I know,” you said quietly. He’d been saying it for days now. Days where you’d made his favorite dishes, only to be met with rejection. It hurt. Deep down, you felt like your efforts didn’t matter. The meals you prepared with love and care seemed meaningless when he refused them so easily.

The next day, you tried again. A simple dish of bulgogi, sweet and savory, the scent tempting. You placed it in front of him, your heart hoping for even a bite, but the words came again. “I’m on a diet.” His eyes flickered with guilt, but he never wavered.

This cycle went on for days—your enthusiasm dwindling, your hope fading. You tried to tell yourself that it was just a phase, that he was just being careful with his diet, but each rejection stung. It felt like more than food—it felt like your love, your effort, was going unnoticed. And you couldn’t shake the feeling that he was pushing you away in small ways, not realizing how deep the cut was.

--

One evening, feeling utterly defeated, you confided in Seungmin’s mother. “I don’t want to learn how to cook anymore,” you whispered, eyes downcast. “I’m tired. Seungmin doesn’t eat my food, so why should I keep trying?”

Her silence was heavy, but she understood. She knew her son, and she knew how hard it could be for him to balance his diet with his love for food. But you couldn’t ignore the ache in your chest—the yearning for his validation, for him to see your effort, for him to taste your love.

That night, after another failed attempt, you found yourself lying in bed, the kitchen cold and unused. You had given up. You were done. You couldn’t keep learning how to cook for someone who didn’t appreciate it, who didn’t even try.

But then, the door creaked open. Seungmin’s voice broke through the silence. “Y/N , Where are you?” he asked, sounding concerned.

You didn’t respond. Instead, you felt the bed dip as he sat beside you, his arms wrapping around you gently, pulling you into his chest.

“Did you eat yet?” he asked softly. His voice was tender, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him.

You shook your head. “No... I didn’t cook. It’s a waste to cook for just one person.”

He pulled back slightly, his hands cupping your face, his eyes searching yours. “Why didn’t you cook?” His voice was laced with worry, but there was something else there too—something more personal.

“I’m done learning,” you whispered, your voice shaky. “I’ve been trying for so long, but you always refuse to eat my food. Why should I keep doing it? Why should I keep trying when it feels like it doesn’t matter?”

Seungmin’s face fell, and for a moment, you saw guilt and regret flash across his features. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I didn’t realize it was affecting you like this. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

You could feel his hand trembling slightly as it rested on your cheek. He had no idea how much his words, his actions, had hurt you. He didn’t know how much it stung to feel like your love was invisible, like you were invisible.

“I’ll eat your food next time,” he promised, his voice filled with determination. “I’ll eat whatever you make, even if it’s just for me.”

But you didn’t know if that would ever be enough. The damage had been done. You had learned that sometimes, no matter how hard you tried, some things just weren’t meant to be. And the empty kitchen, the unappreciated dishes, was a reminder of that pain.

The silence hung heavy in the air as Seungmin’s words lingered between you, but they didn’t erase the weight you felt in your heart. You wanted to believe him. You wanted to believe that everything would get better, that the hurt would fade, but the emptiness was still there, gnawing at you.

Seungmin’s hands gently cupped your face, his thumb brushing over your skin, as if he were trying to physically soothe the pain that was deep inside you. “I didn’t know,” he whispered again, his voice small. “I never realized how much my refusal was hurting you.”

But it didn’t matter anymore, did it? His apology, no matter how sincere, couldn’t undo the days of feeling invisible, of feeling like your love wasn’t enough.

“I just wanted to make you proud,” you said, your voice barely audible. The words slipped out before you could stop them. “I wanted to show you that I care… that I’m learning, that I’m trying… But every time you say ‘I’m on a diet,’ it feels like everything I’m doing is pointless.”

Seungmin’s expression softened, his eyes filled with regret as he leaned closer to you. He gently kissed your forehead, his lips warm and comforting. “I never meant for you to feel that way. I’m sorry.”

You didn’t answer. What was there to say? The words felt like they would break something inside of you if you spoke them aloud. It wasn’t just about food anymore; it was about all the small ways you felt unseen, unheard. It was about the feeling that no matter what you did, it wouldn’t be enough to make him notice.

He pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly, as though trying to erase the distance that had grown between you. “I’ll change,” he murmured, his breath soft against your hair. “I promise I’ll eat whatever you cook. I’ll appreciate it. You mean everything to me.”

You let him hold you, but the tears that threatened to spill from your eyes were not just from the hurt you had been carrying. They were from the uncertainty—uncertainty that things might change, but the fear that they wouldn’t. The fear that your efforts would never truly be valued, no matter how hard you tried.

“I need more than just words,” you whispered, your voice breaking. “I need you to see me. I need you to show me that you care, not just by eating my food, but by understanding that I’m trying, too.”

Seungmin’s arms tightened around you, his lips brushing the top of your head as he nodded. “I will. I’ll show you. I’ll make it right. I’ll prove to you that you’re worth it, that I see you.”

But even as his words comforted you, a small voice in the back of your mind whispered doubts. Would he really change? Would he realize the impact his actions had on you, or would you always feel like you were giving more than you received?

You didn’t have the answers, and maybe you never would. But in that moment, as Seungmin held you close, you let yourself believe, just for a little while longer, that things might get better. You let yourself believe that this time, he really would notice you—not just as his partner, but as the person you were, with your own dreams, your own efforts, and your own love to give.

You stayed in Seungmin’s embrace, but the heaviness in your heart didn’t fully fade. You had a lot to say, and it had been building up for so long. You pulled away slightly, your hands still resting on his chest, but your gaze turned away from him. The frustration was bubbling up inside you, and you couldn’t keep it bottled any longer.

“Seungmin…” you started, your voice quieter now, but still sharp with emotion. “Why do you need to diet? You’re already so skinny. Every time I see you dance, your chest is practically just bones. I hate seeing you like that. It’s… it’s like you’re not taking care of yourself, and I don’t understand why you keep pushing yourself to go further.”

Seungmin looked at you, his eyes wide, a bit taken aback by the sudden change in tone. He opened his mouth to respond, but you weren’t done yet. You needed him to understand how deeply this was bothering you, how it was affecting not just your relationship, but your feelings about him.

“You’re already perfect to me, Seungmin. I don’t care about your body like that. I care about you. But every time you say ‘I’m on a diet,’ or turn down food, it feels like I’m not enough for you, that nothing is ever enough,” you continued, your voice trembling with the weight of the words you were finally letting out.

He opened his mouth again, but you raised a hand to stop him. “No, don’t apologize. I need you to listen. You’re already too thin. And I get it—I know it’s part of your job, part of being in Stray Kids, but it hurts me to see you doing this to yourself. It hurts me to see you so obsessed with your body, when what I care about is how healthy and happy you are. Why do you feel like you need to be even skinnier?”

Seungmin’s face fell, and he looked down at his hands. You could tell he wasn’t used to hearing this from you—he wasn’t used to seeing you so vulnerable, so open about your frustrations. He knew you cared, but he didn’t fully realize how much it hurt you.

“I don’t… I don’t want to hurt you,” he whispered, his voice soft. “It’s just... I feel pressure, you know? From the fans, from everything around me. To look a certain way, to fit a certain image. I didn’t think it would affect you like this.”

You let out a frustrated sigh, shaking your head. “That’s exactly it, Seungmin. You don’t need to look a certain way for anyone but yourself. You’re already perfect the way you are, and I don’t care about your body being a certain size. I care about you, Seungmin. I care about your health, your happiness, and I can’t keep watching you do this to yourself.”

You swallowed hard, the tears in your eyes threatening to spill over. “I want you to be strong for yourself, not for anyone else. I want you to feel good about who you are. I want to be able to cook for you and see you enjoy it. I don’t want to keep feeling like my love isn’t enough when I see you turning down food like it’s something you have to earn.”

Seungmin’s expression softened, and he gently took your hands in his, his voice full of sincerity. “I’m sorry,” he said again, this time with a deeper understanding. “I didn’t know how much this was affecting you. I promise, I’ll think more about it. I’ll try to take care of myself—not just for others, but for us. I don’t want to make you feel like you’re not enough. You’re more than enough for me.”

But even as he said the words, you couldn’t shake the lingering ache. You didn’t know if he would truly change or if this was just another promise that would fade away with time. But for now, all you wanted was for him to truly understand—understand that you cared about him far more than any image, far more than any number on a scale. And that was something you hoped he would eventually see for himself.

The night was long, filled with the weight of the conversation, but eventually, exhaustion had settled in. After all the emotions, the frustration, and the heart-to-heart, you had both fallen into a quiet sleep. Seungmin’s arms were around you, holding you close, as if he couldn’t bear to let you go after everything you had just shared. It was a small comfort, but it was something.

The morning light filtered through the curtains, softly waking you from your slumber. You blinked a few times, feeling the warmth of Seungmin’s body beside you. The space between you was still close, but this time, it felt different—calmer, like maybe there was some hope after all.

Suddenly, you felt his breath against your ear as he shifted beside you, his voice groggy but still carrying the familiar lilt. “Hey,” he said, nudging you lightly. “I’m hungry.”

You groaned softly, rubbing your eyes. The first thought that hit you was how surreal it felt—just last night, you had been at the edge of your patience, but now, here you were, waking up with him, and he was hungry. For food, not for anything else.

“Already?” you mumbled, your voice still thick with sleep. You could hear the playful hint in his tone, despite the serious conversation from the night before. He was always so full of energy, even in the mornings.

“Yeah,” he replied with a soft chuckle. “I’ve been thinking about it all night... but mostly about your cooking,” he added, sounding a little sheepish, though the playful glint in his eyes was unmistakable. “You’re going to make me something, right?”

You turned to face him, your mind still swimming with the emotions of the previous evening. There was a quiet moment as you stared at him, his eyes soft with affection, but also something else—something that told you he had truly heard you. He wasn’t just asking for food now; it felt like he was asking for your trust, your patience, and your love again.

You sighed, a small smile tugging at your lips despite everything. “You sure you’re hungry after all that talk about diets?” you teased lightly, trying to keep the mood light.

Seungmin chuckled, but then his face became serious. “I’m sorry… I don’t want to disappoint you. I know I’ve been distant with you and food, and I don’t want you to feel like I’m taking you for granted. I just want to eat what you make, no excuses. I’ll take care of myself, I promise.”

Your heart softened as you looked at him, seeing the sincerity in his eyes. For a moment, everything else faded. “Okay,” you whispered, your voice steady. “I’ll make something. But no more excuses, alright?”

He grinned widely, his eyes lighting up. “Deal!” He leaned in, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead before pulling away and sitting up, his energy returning with the promise of food. “I’m so ready for whatever you’ve got.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at how his appetite always managed to bring a sense of normalcy back into things. As you sat up too, you glanced at him, realizing that maybe, just maybe, things were slowly starting to fall into place.

“I’ll make you something good,” you said, already thinking about what you could cook. “You better eat it all.”

Seungmin gave you a playful wink. “I wouldn’t dream of doing anything else.” He lay back on the bed for a moment, his gaze soft as he looked at you, before sitting up again. “And I’ll eat all of it. No more turning things down.”

With that, you both got up, your morning starting anew, and for the first time in a while, you felt a little lighter. Maybe it wasn’t perfect, but it was progress. And that, in itself, was enough.

Want to read more you can go to my MASTERLIST

[sombaf]

Just One Drink (Before I Fall For You)

Kara had spent three days sulking in her apartment, replaying the fire over and over in her mind. She saved everyone—every single teacher, every single child. But not him. Not the firefighter who had stayed back, trying to make sure no one was left behind. She had almost had him. Almost.

Alex had finally lost patience.

“You’re coming with us tonight,” she had said, standing in Kara’s doorway with that no-nonsense big-sister stance.

Kara had tried to argue. “Alex, I—”

“No. No ‘but I’s. No excuses. You need to get out of this apartment before you start merging with your couch.”

Kara had sighed, rubbing at her temple. “It’s a lesbian bar, Alex. I’d stick out.”

Alex had smirked. “It’s not like there’s a gay dress code, Kara. Besides, the bar isn’t just for lesbians. It’s just… mostly lesbians, and other queer people.”

Kara groaned, already feeling the battle slipping away. “Alex, I’m really not in the mood to go out. And I’m straight and super boring.”

Alex smirked. “Perfect. That means there’s no pressure—just a good time, no expectations.”

Kara exhaled, long and dramatic, but she knew further resistance was pointless. “One drink. That’s it. Then I’m going home.”

Alex grinned, looping an arm around her shoulders. “Sure, sure. One drink.”

And that was how Kara had ended up here, watching as Alex and Kelly were welcomed with open arms, showered in hugs, and handed drinks before they even reached the bar.

Kara had to admit, the warmth of it all made something settle in her chest. Alex had always been so guarded, always the tough one. And yet here, she had people who loved her for who she was, people who got her.

Kara hadn’t even been sitting before the teasing had started.

“Oh, Alex, you never mentioned your little sister is such a gorgeous specimen,” one of Alex’s friends had drawled, smirking at Kara over the rim of her beer.

“Such a shame you’re straight, darling,” another sighed dramatically before taking a slow sip of their cocktail.

Kara had rolled her eyes and laughed, her protests drowned out by the cheerful music and the clink of glasses.

She had been hit on a few times again after that, all in good fun, but it was never serious. And honestly? It was kind of nice to just be here, no expectations, no pressure, just people having a good time.

The party was already in full swing, laughter spilling from every corner of the bar. Alex and Kelly were somewhere near the pool table, surrounded by friends, and Kara was comfortably settled at the bar, nursing a beer. It wasn’t like she was waiting for someone.

And yet—

When she walked in, it was like someone had turned down the volume on everything else.

She wasn’t loud. She didn’t make a scene. But somehow, the moment she entered, people noticed.

Kara noticed.

She wasn’t even sure sure why.

Maybe it was the way the dark green jumpsuit hugged her frame in all the right places, or the way the sharp, thin Louboutin heels made her legs look endless. Maybe it was the way she moved through the room—smooth, effortless, knowing exactly how much space she took up and exactly how to command attention.

Or maybe it was the way her lips curled, painted deep red like something dangerous, when she laughed at something someone said.

She wasn’t in a hurry. She took her time, greeting people as she passed, her smile easy but never careless. Calculated, almost—like she knew exactly the effect she had and wielded it effortlessly.

Kara swallowed.

She wasn’t even drinking alien alcohol, and yet suddenly, she felt a little dizzy.

The woman finally reached the bar, lingering only a moment to scan the options before slipping onto one of the free barstools.

The one right next to Kara.

Kara straightened instinctively, shifting in her seat as she tried very hard to look at something—anything—other than the graceful way the woman crossed her legs, or the way her jumpsuit dipped just slightly at the neckline, revealing smooth skin and the soft, tempting curve where bare met fabric.

The bartender didn’t even ask.

“Usual?” they said, already reaching for something behind a hidden cabinet.

The woman hummed her approval, tapping a perfectly manicured nail against the bar. “You always remember.”

The bartender smiled as they pulled out the bottle, a top-shelf whiskey Kara hadn’t seen them offer to anyone else. “Hard to forget.”

That earned a quiet chuckle. The bartender poured a glass of rich amber liquid and slid it across to her, no questions, no hesitation.

Kara watched as she took the glass, her fingers delicate against the crystal.

Only then did she turn, facing Kara fully for the first time, and—God.

Piercing green eyes. Sharp, clear, intentional in the way they held Kara’s gaze.

A flicker of heat curled in Kara’s stomach, unexpected and unsettling.

And then, without meaning to, she heard it.

The slow, steady rhythm of her heartbeat.

Kara tried to ignore it—she never focused on things like that, not in casual interactions—but for some reason, it stood out. Unhurried, unshaken. As if the brunette never let anything rattle her.

The woman smirked, tilting her glass slightly before bringing it to her lips. “So,” she mused, her voice rich and smooth, “are we the only two sober ones left?”

Kara blinked, taking a second longer than she should have to respond.

“Oh—uh, yeah. Looks like it.”

The woman’s lips twitched, eyes still on her. “Lucky me.”

Kara let out a soft breath of laughter, shifting in her seat, but her fingers tightened around her glass. Her grip could shatter it if she weren’t careful. “Yeah, well. Alcohol doesn’t really do much for me.”

That arched a perfectly sculpted brow. “That so?”

Kara nodded, forcing herself to look away, but it didn’t help. Her own pulse had picked up, and her senses—usually so easy to tune out—were suddenly locked onto her.

The faintest rustle of fabric as the woman shifted against the barstool. The warmth of her skin radiating in the small space between them. And her scent—God, her scent.

Kara had smelled thousands of scents before, cataloged them all in the back of her mind. But this one—warm and deep, something dark and spiced with a hint of vanilla—wrapped around her like a slow burn. It was intoxicating in a way nothing had ever been before.

She swallowed.

“Alien biology,” she added, clearing her throat.

Most people reacted when she said that. Usually, there was at least a blink of surprise, a brief hesitation.

The woman didn’t even flinch.

Instead, she leaned in slightly, just enough that Kara caught the soft exhale of her breath, the faintest shift in her heartbeat—just a little faster now, like she was aware of the space between them.

And then Kara saw it—so brief she might have missed it if she hadn’t been paying attention.

The woman’s pupils dilated, just a fraction, just for a second.

Her eyes flicked over Kara’s face, assessing, considering.

“Convenient,” she murmured.

Kara exhaled a quiet laugh, though it came out softer than she intended. Something about the way she said it—low and knowing—sent a shiver down her spine. “For some things.”

The woman took another slow sip of her drink, eyes lingering for just a second too long before she finally extended a hand.

“Nice to meet you,” she said, voice like honey and smoke. “I’m Lena.”

Kara stared at the hand for half a second longer than necessary before shaking it.

The touch was steady, deliberate. Lena’s fingers were cool at first, but the heat between them rose fast, burning through Kara like a wildfire.

She almost pulled away too quickly but stopped herself at the last second.

“Kara,” she said, a little breathless.

Lena’s fingers curled slightly before she let go, as if dragging out the moment just a little longer.

And for a second, Kara swore she heard it—Lena’s heartbeat stuttering, just the faintest skip, so fleeting she wasn’t sure if it had happened at all.

“Kara,” Lena repeated then, red lips curling slightly.

And maybe it was the way she said it, slow and smooth, like she was testing how Kara’s name would sound on her tongue later.

Maybe it was the whiskey-warm rasp in her voice, or the way those sparkling eyes lingered, just long enough to make Kara wonder if she was imagining things.

Or maybe it was the way Kara’s senses—so sharp, so attuned—had locked onto her without permission, as if her own body had already decided something she wasn’t ready to admit.

But suddenly, straight felt like a label that didn’t quite fit the way it used to.

Full story here😉

[myautismisnowyourproblem]

Femslash February day 2- Horizon

Geminitay x Pearlescentmoon, Hermitcraft, Life Series

Pearl landed on the roof of Gem’s castle, having seen the shapeshifter sitting on the roof, kicking her hooves. She had shifted back from the elven form she was using this season into her default deer hybrid look.

“Heya Gem, what’cha thinking about?” She asked, sitting down next to her.

“Secret Life is tomorrow,” she replied, not turning to look at her… girlfriend? They hadn’t really labeled their relationship, but they were definitely something.

“I see. You excited?”

Gem shrugged. “Yeah. But I’m also nervous,” she replied.

“How so?”

“Well, what if I don’t do well?” Gem finally turned to look at Pearl.

“Then you don’t do well, and you get another try next Life Series that G cooks up. Come on, why are you really nervous?” Pearl asked, nudging Gem gently.

“Gah, why can you read me so well?” Gem asked, before sighing. “I just… well, I don’t know. I guess I’m just worried,” she said. “I love fighting. My nickname is Geminislay for a reason. And I know I can get… carried away in the heat of the moment. I’m already not great at people-ing, I’m worried I’m gonna go too far. Seriously hurt someone’s feelings.”

Pearl hummed, considering Gem’s worries. “Last season, Cleo and Etho were divorced. When you subbed in for Cleo, you got a front sear to Cleo and Etho’s rivalry in that season. You got to kill him in her stead. After the finale, the only thing that changed about their friendship is that they now have a new bit to riff each other about,”

“This series does change peoples’ relationships. But usually what happens is that people get closer, not further apart. Whatever happens, nobody’s going to have any hard feelings over your actions.”

Gem smiled at Pearl’s words. “Thank you, Pearl.” She turned to look over the horizon again. Pearl looked as well. The sun was beginning to set, casting the world in shades of red and pink. “Sunset’s pretty.”

Pearl took the hint and nodded in agreement. “Yeah, like someone I know.”

“Is Impulse really that pretty?” Gem joked with a grin.

“You know who I meant!” Pearl grabbed Gem by the waist and pulled her close to ruffle her hair.

—————————————

Pearl met Gem on the bridge. Gem ran up to Pearl and punched her (lightly).

“You suck! 2 v 1?! Really?!”

Pearl laughed. “Awe come on, you had fun.”

Gem rolled her eyes with a smile. “Maybe I did, but that was still gross.”

The two laughed for a moment, before devolving into quiet. Gem leaned forward and kissed Pearl on her lips.

“That is your reward for being absolutely right.”

Pearl chuckled. “About what?”

“About how I wouldn’t mess up my friendships, Pearl. Did you forget about that?”

Pearl shrugged. “Maybe a little.”

“Well I didn’t. Thank you Pearl.”

Pearl smiled. “A’course, Gem. You can always count on me if you need anything.”

“Hmm, well you know what I need right now?” Gem got that look in her eye that meant mischief was in order.

“What?” Pearl replied.

“More kisses!” She declared.

Pearl smiled. “I’m happy to provide.”

[cigsaftersuh]

૮ a little something ྀིა .ᐟ

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ㅡ my youth, your kitchen.

jeno stood outside your door, shifting the bag of takeout in his hand, exhaling softly before finally raising his fist and tapping it against the wood. he knew you wanted him here, but the worry he felt still hadn’t disappeared, he could tell something was off even through text, and he hated knowing you’d been sitting with it alone.

he balanced the takeout bag in one hand, the other gripping the small bouquet a little tighter than necessary. he had stopped by a flower shop on the way over, standing in front of the display longer than he’d admit, trying to pick something that felt right. nothing too much, nothing too little. just something soft, something for you, like you deserved.

the seconds stretched a little too long, and just as he considered knocking again, the door cracked open.

jeno’s stomach dropped as he took in the sight of you.

your eyes puffy from sleep, still laced with drowsiness, your hair slightly tousled from where you’d been lying down. there was a warmth to you, your face appearing softer as you stood, drowning in a hoodie far too big for you, the sleeves slipping past your fingertips.

it didn’t take much for him to guess it belonged to kun. kun’s clothes always hung differently on you, a little looser, like they were meant to be worn for comfort rather than borrowed on a whim. something about that realization settled warmth in jeno’s chest, but he pushed it aside for now.

he hated that he hadn’t come sooner.

“hi,” he greeted, voice softer than usual.

you blinked at him, eyes flickering down to the bag in his hand before landing on the bouquet.

“for me?” you ask sheepishly.

he nodded, not hesitating as he held them out. “i thought you might like them.”

you reached for them, fingers brushing his as you took them carefully. your thumb ran over the petals, soft and delicate beneath your touch.

“jeno… thank you.”

“and food,” he added before you could say anything more, shifting the takeout bag. “because i know you haven’t eaten properly today.”

you sighed, but there was no protest. just a quiet step back as you opened the door fully, letting him in.

he stepped inside, slipping off his shoes before following you toward the kitchen. jihyo looked up from the counter, her eyes flicking between you, the flowers, and jeno setting the food down, a sight far too domestic for have just meeting the boy only two days ago.

jihyo looked up from the counter, her eyes flicking between you and the flowers in your hands before landing on jeno. “you’re really setting the bar high, huh?”

jeno barely spared her a glance. “i guess so.”

yangyang, still sprawled across the couch, peeked over at the bag of food. “did you bring enough for me?”

jeno smirked but didn’t look up from unpacking the food. “obviously.”

his attention never fully left you. he saw the way you stood there, the silence that hung between you, the exhaustion in your eyes.

“how was your nap?” he asked, his voice dropping, quieter now.

you froze for a moment, a small warmth rising to your cheeks as you shifted your gaze to the floor. it wasn’t that the question caught you off guard, but the fact that you’d just woken up from a dream about him made the situation feel a little more awkward than it should’ve been.

jeno exhaled through his nose, shaking his head slightly before stepping closer. his fingers brushed your wrist gently, a soft touch, like he was offering comfort in the way he knew best.

“i’m sorry,” he said quietly. “i wish i’d gotten here sooner.”

you smiled faintly, the smallest shift in your expression, and for the first time today, it felt like the weight in your chest lifted a little. “it’s not your fault,” you whispered.

he nodded, his expression unreadable for a moment, before he stepped closer, his hand brushing lightly against your wrist. “well, you’re not alone now. okay?”

you met his gaze, your shoulders feeling a little less heavy with each passing second. “yeah,” you replied, a breath of relief slipping from your lips.

“come on,” he murmured. “eat first. we can talk after.”

he didn’t let go as he guided you to the table, his hand warm on your wrist, steady, grounding. he pulled out a chair for you, nudging you lightly to sit before setting a plate in front of you.

he didn’t rush you. didn’t pressure you to talk. he just sat there beside you, making sure you ate, making sure you weren’t overthinking while picking at your food absentmindedly.

with love,

© cigsaftersuh

@t-102 @niniiflwr @dudekiss3r @defzcl @stqrgr7 @imalwaysjeno @jeongjaeleftbicep @rubiiisyeon @jae10velies @cookydream @222low @dearlyminhyung @mmjhh1998 @gukuwii @hyucksunset @chenlesfeetpic @urlocalbeaner5 @taeeflwrr @fullhyucksunny @hyuksworld @nmmsmari @jeonghansshitester @hyuckleberriii @yukisroom97 @zgzgzh @tannieflix @olladecaramelos @haelvrty @nujeskz @kukkurookkoo @remgeolli @sinsgaybutthatsokay @hyunjinswifetingzz @axo-l0tl @blondiedae @jae-n0 @zhongzn @nahyuckers @katsulovee @minkyuncutie @gomdoleemyson @joonsprettygf @ne0sgotmyback @sunghoonsgfreal

[racerchix21]

Roosters with accents and dolphins

For day 1 of @bucktommyfluffebruary | Non Sexual Intimacy

Tommy’s only just gotten to sleep in his bunk at work when his phone starts buzzing and he has to make a mad grab to silence it before Lucy yells at him. This is the first time they’ve gotten to relax all shift and he’s not looking to piss her off anymore than he already has.

When he finally gets it silenced and let his eyes adjust to the sudden brightness he’s greeted with Evan’s name and big cheesy grin from a photo the other man had taken the spring before on a hike.

Babe: Do you think roosters around the world crow with accents? Like in Ireland it’s an Irish accent and in Paris it’s French?

He’s hitting the call icon before he can stop himself as he slides out of from under the blankets and heads into the hangar proper.

“Tommy,” Buck says in an excited rush as soon as the call connects. “Seriously do you think roosters in other countries crow with accents?”

“Hey baby,” Tommy chuckles still trying to figure out how roosters came to be his boyfriends newest Wikipedia rabbit hole obsession but he has an idea of how to answer Evan’s questions. “I don’t know if roosters crow in the native accent to whatever country they live in but what if we take a vacation and see if we can’t figure it out together?”

“You wanna go on a vacation to see if roosters, something you have an intense fear of because of a chicken you met once on a call at the 118, to see if they crow with an accent,” Evan questions disbelieving.

“Well you intrigued me and I like the idea of spending a few weeks just you, me and the chickens,” Tommy tries to justify even though he’s also trying to figure out why he proposed the idea.

“Okay I’ll start researching stuff and then our next shared day off we can plan something,” Buck rambles on before starting to talk about an underwater documentary he’d watched with Jee and Tommy laughs again because he still can’t believe that Evan gave him another chance.

The alarm starts blaring again and Tommy hates having to interrupt Evan’s speech. “Baby I love you and I definitely wanna hear more about dolphins and their fascination with using pufferfish as toys but I gotta go. I’ll see you at home, love you.”

“Love you Tommy. Be safe.”

@rdng1230 @weewookinard @thecarrott @bangpop91

[lila-lou]

✨His second exception - Pt. 32/?✨

Summary: The moment Ben found out you were pregnant was probably the happiest moment of his life. However, happiness proved fleeting. Now, he is faced with the aftermath of his shattered dreams. Of what is left of you, and what is left of him.

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Reader

Warnings: Language, FLUFF

Word Count: 7879

A/N: This is the sequel to “His only exeption” - and Part 32 of "His second exception".

English isn’t my first language, so please be lenient. 💙

The next morning, the quiet hum of a rare peaceful day broke as you and Ben found yourselves in a familiar standoff. You were seated on the edge of the bed, cradling Aria in your arms as Ben stood nearby, arms crossed, his green eyes narrowed in his typical stubborn fashion.

“I’m telling you”, Ben started, his voice low but firm, “we go in, see Dr. Collins, and then we’re out. No pit stops, no introductions, no bullshit”.

You shot him a look, your own stubbornness bubbling to the surface. “Ben, it’s not bullshit”, you said, adjusting Aria’s blanket as she cooed softly in your arms. “The team’s been asking about her since the day she was born. They just want to meet her. What’s the harm in that?”.

Ben scoffed, running a hand through his hair. “The harm? You mean besides the fact that I don’t trust half of them not to screw something up? Or the fact that the second we walk into that room, it’s gonna turn into a circus? No thanks”.

“Ben”, you said, your voice steady, though you could feel your own frustration bubbling. “They’re not monsters. They just want to meet her. It’s not like we’re leaving her alone with them”.

“That’s not the fucking point”, Ben shot back, stopping mid-step to glare at you. “Every time I let those idiots near something important, it blows up in my face—literally half the time. You want our kid to be next on their list of screw-ups?”.

You tilted your head, giving him a knowing look. “You know that’s not going to happen. They’re her family too, whether you admit it or not”.

“Family?”, Ben repeated, snorting derisively. “A bunch of fucking pussys? Yeah, real heartwarming”.

You stood, holding Aria carefully against your chest as you moved closer to him. “They’re your team”, you reminded him softly. “You’ve fought with them. Bled with them. That means something, doesn’t it?”.

Ben’s jaw worked as he avoided your gaze, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. “They don’t know what the fuck they’re doing half the time”, he muttered, his voice quieter now, almost like he was trying to convince himself as much as you. “And she’s too damn small to be around their chaos”.

You reached out, placing a hand gently on his arm. “She’s small”, you agreed, “but she’s already got you to protect her. And I trust you, Ben. I trust you to keep her safe, even around them”.

His green eyes finally met yours, the storm in them softening just slightly. He let out a long, heavy sigh, running a hand through his hair again. “You really want this, huh?”.

“I do”, you said firmly. “She’s not going to live in a bubble, Ben. And this is a step forward—for all of us”.

He stared at you for a moment longer, then down at Aria, who was now clutching her blanket with her tiny fist. His lips pressed into a thin line, and finally, he muttered, “Fine. But if someone sneezes near her, I’m throwing them out a fucking window”.

You smiled, leaning up to kiss his cheek. “Deal”.

Ben grumbled something under his breath, but as you adjusted Aria in your arms, he reached out, his large hand brushing against her tiny head with surprising gentleness. “This is still a stupid idea”, he muttered, though the corner of his mouth twitched upward ever so slightly.

The elevator doors slid open to the top floor, and Ben stepped out with his usual commanding presence, the car seat in one hand like it was weightless. Aria was bundled snugly inside, her tiny face barely visible beneath the soft blanket. You followed close behind, keeping a watchful eye on him—and on the environment, just in case someone got a little too curious.

It didn’t take long. The moment Ben’s boots hit the polished floor, Annie and Kimiko peeked out from around the corner, their faces lit with barely-contained excitement. They weren’t even trying to be subtle, their curiosity as obvious as the sun.

Ben stopped in his tracks, narrowing his green eyes at them. “What the hell are you two doing?”, he growled, his tone low and unimpressed. “Lurking around like a couple of fucking creeps?”.

Annie stepped forward first, hands raised in mock surrender, though the grin on her face made it clear she wasn’t intimidated in the slightest. “We weren’t lurking”, she said innocently, though the way her eyes flicked immediately to the car seat gave her away. “We just… happened to be in the area”.

Kimiko followed, nodding enthusiastically and peeking curiously at the bundle Ben was carrying. She didn’t say anything, but the wide-eyed, almost giddy look she shot Annie said it all: They were absolutely lurking.

You smirked, stepping up beside Ben. “They’re just curious”, you said lightly, giving him a pointed look. “You can’t exactly blame them”.

Ben, dressed in his full supe suit, rolled his eyes and muttered under his breath, “Let’s get this over with… fucking quick”. His tone was gruff, but there was a certain care in the way he carried Aria’s car seat, his steps steady and deliberate as he strode toward the meeting room. You followed close behind, exchanging an amused glance with Annie as she and Kimiko trailed after you.

As soon as Ben pushed the door open, the rest of the team turned their heads, curiosity and surprise lighting up their faces. M.M. was seated near the head of the table, his brows raised as he took in the sight of Ben carrying a car seat. Frenchie, lounging in a chair with his feet propped up, broke into a wide grin, while Hughie blinked, his mouth opening and closing as though he wasn’t sure what to say.

“Is that…?”, Hughie started, but Ben didn’t let him finish.

“Yeah, it’s her”, Ben grunted, moving to his usual corner of the meeting table. He gently placed the car seat on the surface, his large hand steadying it as he adjusted the angle slightly. Aria stirred inside, letting out a tiny noise, and Ben immediately leaned in to check on her, his gruff exterior softening for a brief moment.

“Well, I’ll be damned”, M.M. said, his voice low but warm as he stood to get a better look. “Didn’t think I’d ever see the day. Soldier Boy with a baby”.

Frenchie, ever the opportunist for mischief, leaned forward with an exaggerated grin. “And not just any baby, mon ami. The tiniest soldier in the world”.

“Careful with the stupid jokes”, Ben muttered, his sharp green eyes flicking to Frenchie. “She’s not gonna find you funny when she grows up, and neither do I”.

Frenchie held up his hands in mock surrender, though his grin didn’t fade. “Ah, but you must admit, it’s a sight. The great Soldier Boy, protector of the innocent, protector of… diapers”.

Hughie, still staring at the car seat, finally found his voice. “She’s adorable”, he said softly, his awe clear as he glanced at you. “Congratulations. Both of you”.

Ben grunted, clearly uncomfortable with the attention, but you stepped forward, smiling as you adjusted the blanket covering Aria. “Thanks, Hughie”, you said warmly. “We thought it was time for you all to meet her—briefly”, you added, shooting a glance at Ben.

Kimiko, standing quietly near the back, stepped forward slowly, her gaze fixed on the car seat. Her expression was softer than usual, almost reverent, as she looked at the tiny bundle inside. When she glanced up at you, her eyes were bright with unspoken emotion, and you nodded, silently giving her permission.

Kimiko crouched down slightly, leaning closer to get a better look. Aria made a small noise, her little hands twitching under the blanket, and Kimiko’s face broke into a rare, radiant smile.

“She’s tiny”, M.M. said, shaking his head with a chuckle. “Smaller than I imagined”.

“She’s a baby, genius”, Ben snapped, though there was no real heat in his tone. “That’s how they’re supposed to be”.

M.M. smirked, crossing his arms. “Yeah, but you? I figured your kid would come out bench-pressing something”.

Ben rolled his eyes, but before he could fire back, Aria let out a soft coo, her little face scrunching up as though to steal the spotlight. The entire room seemed to freeze for a moment, everyone’s attention locked on her.

You sighed, crossing your arms and glancing at Ben. “Just get her out, Ben”, you grumbled, exasperation in your voice. “They can barely see her all scrunched up like that”.

Ben shot you a look, one brow arched in defiance, but the faintest hint of a smirk tugged at his lips. “Yeah, yeah”, he muttered, carefully reaching down to unfasten Aria’s car seat straps. “You’re acting like I’m hiding her or something”.

“You are”, you countered, plopping down in the chair beside his at the head of the table. “Now stop being dramatic and let them meet her properly”.

As Ben lifted Aria out of the car seat, her tiny body wriggled slightly in response to the change in position. He adjusted her blanket, ensuring she was snug before cradling her securely against his chest. Her little face peeked out just enough for the others to see, and a collective wave of awe swept across the room.

“There”, Ben muttered, turning slightly so everyone could get a better look. “Happy now?”.

Annie stepped closer, her smile soft and radiant as she peered down at Aria. “Oh my God”, she whispered, her voice filled with wonder. “She’s beautiful”.

Kimiko nodded in agreement, her expression still glowing with that rare, unguarded joy. She glanced between you and Ben, her gaze filled with something that looked like admiration.

“Mon dieu”, Frenchie said dramatically, clasping his hands over his heart. “Such a tiny miracle, born to such… interesting parents”.

Ben shot him a sharp look. “Careful, Frenchie. I can still punt you across the room”.

Frenchie grinned, entirely unfazed. “Ah, but you wouldn’t. Not in front of the bébé”.

Butcher stepped up beside Ben, a wide grin plastered across his face as he peered down at Aria, who let out a tiny sigh against Ben’s chest. He tilted his head, his sharp eyes glinting with mischief as he crossed his arms. “So”, he drawled, his voice dripping with sarcasm, “the big bad Soldier Boy didn’t get himself a strapping young lad to carry on the legacy, eh? Just this itsy-bitsy little girl instead”.

Ben’s jaw tightened, and he turned slowly to glare at Butcher, his green eyes narrowing into dangerous slits. “You wanna say that again?”, he growled.

Butcher smirked, completely unfazed. “Just saying”, he continued, gesturing lazily toward Aria, “didn’t exactly picture you with a pint-sized princess. Bet you were hoping for a mini-you, weren’t ya? All fists and attitude?”.

“She’ll kick your ass before she even hits kindergarten”, he grumbled.

Butcher raised an eyebrow, his grin never faltering. “Oh, is that right? She’s gonna take after her dear old dad, is she? What’s she gonna do—punch me with those tiny little fists?”. He gestured mockingly toward Aria’s barely visible hands, which were tucked under her blanket.

Ben tilted his head slightly, a wicked smirk tugging at his lips now. “You won’t even see it coming”, he said, his tone dripping with confidence. “One day, you’ll be mouthing off like you always do, and bam—tiny fists, big fucking attitude. You’ll be on your damn ass”.

The room erupted into laughter, Annie and Frenchie grinning as Hughie tried and failed to stifle a chuckle. Even Kimiko smiled, signing something quickly to Frenchie, who grinned as he translated. “She says, ‘He’s probably right’”.

Butcher rolled his eyes, but there was a flicker of amusement in his expression. “Well, if she’s anything like you, mate, I’ll need to watch my back, won’t I?”.

Ben leaned back slightly, his smirk settling into something softer as he glanced down at Aria, who was still fast asleep against his chest. “Damn right you will”, he muttered, his tone quieter now but no less sure.

You laughed from your seat, shaking your head. “Alright, boys, let’s not start planning playground fights just yet”, you teased, your voice light. “She’s got a few years before she’s taking on anyone”.

Ben glanced at you, his smirk widening slightly. “Few years? Nah”, he said confidently. “Give her a couple months. She’s already got more fight in her than half this room”.

Butcher rolled his eyes dramatically. “Yeah, yeah, we’ll see. But for now, mate, she’s just a little blob who probably cries when you take her bottle away”.

Ben’s smirk turned sharp again. “And she’d still take you in a fight”.

Annie reached over, giving your arm a gentle squeeze, her warm smile radiating pure joy. “She’s so cute”, she whispered, her eyes never leaving Aria. The excitement on her face was unmistakable, and every time Aria so much as twitched or yawned, Annie looked like she was about to melt into a puddle.

Meanwhile, Ben had finally settled into his chair, leaning back as much as physically possible, looking every bit like a man who’d rather be anywhere else. His massive hand rested against Aria’s tiny back, holding her securely against his chest. She was completely sprawled out against him, her little head tucked right beneath his chin, her breaths soft and even.

Ben exhaled sharply. “Alright, what’s the deal?”, he grumbled, shifting slightly but never loosening his hold on Aria. “Let’s get this over with. I wanna go home”.

M.M. finally sat up straighter and cleared his throat. “Alright, listen up”, he said, setting a folder on the table and glancing at everyone. “We got a few things moving right now—some supe activity in the lower boroughs that’s catching too much attention. Could be nothin’, but it’s worth keeping an eye on”.

Ben grunted but barely looked interested. His free hand drummed idly against the armrest of his chair, while his other remained firmly cradled around Aria. “So, what, you need me to smash some heads or just look scary?”, he muttered, shifting slightly as Aria scrunched herself closer into his supe suit.

Annie, who had been trying to focus on the meeting, let out a quiet squeal as Aria stretched slightly, pressing her tiny hands against Ben’s chest before curling back into him. Hughie, sitting beside her, chuckled softly. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this excited, Annie”.

She swatted him lightly, though her eyes stayed locked on Aria. “Look at her, Hughie”, she whispered. “She’s perfect”.

Ben rolled his eyes. “You act like she’s a goddamn museum exhibit”, he muttered, though he didn’t move, letting Aria burrow into him.

M.M. sighed, ignoring the momentary distraction. “Look, I know we’re all excited about the baby, but let’s stay on track”, he said, glancing between everyone. “Frenchie, Kimiko, I want you both tailing a few leads, see what shakes out. Annie, Hughie, same for you”.

Everyone nodded, though Annie still kept sneaking glances at Aria, her hands clasped together as if resisting the urge to reach out and touch her.

M.M. then looked at Ben, his expression expectant. “And you?”.

Ben tilted his head slightly, as if considering the question. “Depends”, he said lazily. “You gonna let me skip the next boring-ass meeting if I play nice?”.

M.M. gave him an unimpressed look. “You’re already skipping half of them”.

Ben shrugged. “Yeah, well, now I got an excuse”.

At that moment, Aria let out a tiny yawn, her little mouth opening as she nuzzled deeper into Ben’s chest. Annie let out another small squeal, and even Hughie cracked a grin. Ben just sighed heavily, though the way his fingers gently rubbed against Aria’s back betrayed how much he actually cared.

“Fine”, he muttered. “I’ll help. But now I wanna get her home before any of you start tryin’ to fucking steal her”.

Frenchie grinned. “Ah, but you cannot blame us. She is the first supe baby we actually like”.

Ben shot him a glare. “Exactly why I’m keeping her away from you”.

M.M. just shook his head, but there was the faintest trace of a smirk on his lips. “Alright, let’s wrap this up before Soldier Boy here starts threatening us all. One last thing—”. He glanced at you. “How are you holding up? You need anything?”.

You smiled softly, your eyes flicking to Ben and Aria. “I think we’re okay”, you said quietly. “Just… adjusting”.

Ben snorted. “Yeah, adjusting to not sleeping”.

M.M. smirked. “Welcome to parenthood, man”.

Ben grumbled something under his breath but didn’t argue, his fingers still absentmindedly rubbing Aria’s back.

The meeting continued for another ten minutes, but it was clear everyone—especially Ben—was eager to wrap it up. And the entire time, Aria remained tucked safely against his chest, the softest little presence in a room full of chaos.

As the meeting wound down, M.M. gave a final glance around the table, ensuring everyone understood their assignments. “Alright, that’s it for now”, he said, closing the folder in front of him.

Ben wasted no time. “Good”, he grunted, pushing himself up from the chair with careful precision to not jostle Aria too much. “We’re out”.

Annie pouted slightly, clearly disappointed that she wouldn’t get any more baby time. “Oh, come on”, she said, glancing at you for support. “You could at least let me hold her for a second”.

Ben shot her a look. “Yeah, not happening, Sparkles”.

Annie folded her arms. “I am perfectly capable of holding a baby, you know”.

“I don’t doubt it”, Ben said, adjusting Aria’s blanket, his tone casual. “Still not happening”.

You chuckled softly, shaking your head. “He’s been like this with her since day one”, you told Annie. “Overprotective as hell”.

Ben scoffed. “Of course I am”.

M.M. smirked. “Can’t say I blame him”, he admitted. “But you know one of these days, you’re gonna have to let someone else hold her, right?”.

Ben grumbled something unintelligible under his breath, then glanced at you. “You ready to go, or you wanna sit here and watch them drool over the kid all day?”.

You rolled your eyes but stood carefully, still mindful of your own healing body. “Yeah, yeah, I’m ready”.

Frenchie, ever the instigator, called after you both. “Ben, mon ami, don’t forget—if you need a babysitter, I am available”.

Ben didn’t even bother looking back as he carried Aria toward the exit. “Yeah, that’s not happening either”.

As you walked toward the elevator, you could hear Annie sigh dramatically. “He’s ridiculous”, she muttered.

M.M. chuckled. “Yeah, but you gotta admit—it’s kinda hilarious”.

The elevator doors slid open, and Ben stepped inside, turning slightly to make sure you were right beside him before pressing the button. As the doors closed, he finally looked down at Aria, who was still peacefully curled up against his chest.

His voice dropped to something lower, more intimate. “Finally”, he muttered, exhaling softly.

The next days passed in a blur of sleepless nights, diaper changes, and your parents hovering like watchdogs. While their help was invaluable, it drove Ben up the damn wall—especially your mother, who always seemed to have a better way of doing things. She corrected how he held Aria, how he rocked her, even how he mixed her formula. It had taken every ounce of restraint in his body not to snap at her the last time she told him again that "babies need a gentler touch".

Today was no exception.

Ben was already dressed in his supe suit, his jaw tight as he fastened the last strap on his forearm. He was heading to the tower for a new mission, and he hated every second of it. They needed him, they’d said. Some classified mess that only he could handle. And while Ben never shied away from a fight, leaving you and Aria behind? That made his blood boil.

Still, if he had to go, he was damn well dressing his daughter before he left.

“I’ll do it”, Ben grumbled as he scooped up Aria from her bassinet, cradling her against his chest as he walked toward the changing table. “Last thing I need is your mother telling me again I’m putting her onesie on wrong”.

You smirked from your spot on the bed. “She just wants to help”.

“She wants to micromanage”, Ben shot back, carefully laying Aria down. He crouched in front of her, his large hands working delicately as he unfastened her sleeper and reached for the onesie he’d picked out—a deep green one with little gold stars. “This one’s good”, he muttered to himself, as if reaffirming the choice.

“She’s gonna spit up on it in two seconds”, you pointed out.

Ben scoffed. “Then I’ll change her again”.

You let out a small laugh, watching as Ben carefully wrangled Aria’s squirmy little legs into the onesie. She let out a tiny grunt, flailing her hands, and Ben sighed dramatically. “Come on, kid, work with me here”, he muttered. “You got my blood in you—should be able to take orders”.

Aria responded by scrunching up her face and making a tiny noise that sounded dangerously close to a fart.

Ben froze, staring at her for a second before looking over his shoulder at you. “Was that—?”.

“Yep”, you confirmed, grinning.

Ben groaned, shaking his head. “Unbelievable. Already doesn’t listen”.

Despite the grumbling, he finished dressing her with an efficiency that only came from weeks of experience. He snapped up the front, adjusted the little collar, and ran a gentle hand over her tiny belly before scooping her back up into his arms.

“That’s my girl”, he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. He cradled her close, one hand supporting her head as he turned to face you. His smirk faded slightly, replaced by something more serious.

“Sure you’ll be okay?”. His voice was low, rough with quiet concern.

You nodded. “A-Train’s staying behind. And the guards. We’ll be fine”.

Ben clenched his jaw, clearly hating it. Leaving you and Aria behind—even with security—made his blood boil. He wasn’t used to trusting anyone else to do his job.

“Yeah”, he muttered finally, adjusting his grip on Aria. “Still hate it”.

You reached out, brushing your fingers over his arm. “Just come back in one piece, okay?”.

Ben snorted, but the look in his eyes was softer now. “I always do".

He leaned down, pressing a firm kiss to your lips before straightening up, Aria still tucked safely against his chest. “Alright”, he muttered, rolling his shoulders. “Let’s get this over with”.

You got up from the bed, still moving a bit slower than usual as you recovered, but determined to be the one to bring him to the tower. Ben immediately noticed, his sharp green eyes flicking to you with that signature mix of protectiveness and annoyance.

“I should make you stay in bed”, he grumbled, shifting Aria slightly so she was more comfortable.

“And yet”, you said with a small smirk, “you can’t make me do anything”.

Ben snorted but didn’t argue. He just shook his head and muttered something about stubborn women before stepping past you toward the door.

The drive to Vought Tower was uneventful, aside from Ben’s constant muttering under his breath. Aria, seemingly in sync with her father’s mood, fussed a little in her car seat but eventually settled after a few minutes of soft rocking from you.

When you pulled up to the private entrance, a small team was already waiting. A-Train stood near the entrance, arms crossed, looking as relaxed as ever, while a few Vought security members lingered in the background.

Ben got out first, immediately scanning the area with a sharpness that reminded you exactly who he was—the Soldier Boy instinct never really turned off. He walked around to your side, opening the door before you could even reach for the handle.

“You sure about this?”, he asked again, his voice low as he helped you out, his hand steadying you more than necessary.

“I’ll be fine”, you reassured him. “Aria will be fine”.

Ben grumbled something under his breath, then turned toward A-Train, who was already watching the whole interaction with mild amusement.

“Don’t screw this up”, Ben said flatly, his voice edged with warning.

A-Train scoffed, crossing his arms. “Man, you act like I don’t know how to babysit”.

“I know you don’t know how to babysit”, Ben snapped, adjusting Aria’s car seat in the crook of his arm. “But you do know how to follow orders. So listen up—nothing happens to them. You so much as blink wrong, and I’ll put your ass through a fucking wall”.

A-Train raised his hands in mock surrender. “Yeah, yeah, I got it. Damn”.

Ben wasn’t satisfied, but he knew he didn’t have a choice. He turned back to you, looking down at you with something unreadable in his expression. He was bad at this—bad at saying things that weren’t wrapped up in sarcasm or frustration—but you knew him well enough to see through the act.

“I’ll be back soon”, he muttered, almost like a promise.

You reached up, brushing your fingers lightly over his chest, right where Aria’s head had rested moments before. “We’ll be here”, you whispered.

Ben’s jaw tightened slightly, his green eyes flicking between you and Aria, then toward the group of idiots already waiting near the elevator, grinning like jackals. He exhaled sharply through his nose, clearly torn between keeping up his tough exterior and giving you what you wanted.

But when you whispered, I love you, your fingers still resting lightly on his chest, something in his expression softened—just for a moment. His free hand came up, brushing against your jaw as he leaned in, his lips barely ghosting over yours before pressing down in a firm, lingering kiss. It wasn’t just a goodbye—it was a promise.

A sharp whistle cut through the moment.

“Aw, look at him”, Frenchie drawled from the elevator, arms crossed, a smug grin stretched across his face. “Big, bad Soldier Boy going all soft. It’s beautiful, really”.

“Fuck off, Frenchie”, Ben muttered, pulling back but letting his fingers linger on your chin for just a second longer before finally stepping away.

Butcher, standing beside Frenchie, was grinning like he was enjoying every second of this. “Didn’t think I’d live to see the day”, he said, shaking his head. “The bastard’s gone domestic”.

Ben rolled his shoulders, his annoyance flaring as he turned toward them. “Keep talking, and I’ll make sure you don’t live much longer”, he growled, grabbing his shield from where it rested by the car.

Frenchie just chuckled, following him onto the elevator. “Ah, mon ami, we are just saying—it is a sight. The great Soldier Boy, tamed”.

Ben didn’t dignify that with a response. Instead, he threw one last glance over his shoulder at you and Aria before stepping onto the elevator, the doors sliding shut behind him.

You sighed, shaking your head as you adjusted Aria’s blanket. A-Train leaned against the car, arms still crossed, smirking slightly.

“Man, you really got him wrapped around your finger, huh?”, he mused.

You smirked, looking down at your daughter. “Nah”, you said softly. “She does”.

The elevator doors slid shut behind Ben, taking him away into the depths of Vought Tower. You let out a slow breath, adjusting Aria’s blanket as her tiny fingers twitched in her sleep. The soft hum of the car’s engine was the only sound for a moment, before A-Train chuckled, shaking his head as he leaned against the side of the vehicle.

“Never thought I’d see that guy acting like a damn bodyguard for a baby”.

You arched an eyebrow. “You do realize that baby is his whole world now, right?”.

A-Train gave a nonchalant shrug but didn’t argue. Instead, he straightened up, stretching his arms as he glanced toward the other guards standing near the entrance. “So”, he said, eyeing you, “you gonna head back home, or you wanna stick around?”.

You sighed, adjusting Aria’s. “Actually”, you muttered, running a tired hand through your hair, “I wanted to check on some reports and sort through whatever mess is waiting for me. My office has been run by a few assistants these past few weeks, and I can only imagine the chaos”.

A-Train let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “Man, that’s a you problem. No way I’d be thinking about paperwork with a newborn”.

You shot him a look. “Yeah, well, some of us don’t get to just run fast and hope everything works out”.

He smirked, hands slipping into his pockets. “Hey, I do more than run”.

You arched a brow. “Uh-huh. And how’s that working out for you?”.

He huffed but didn’t argue, instead glancing at the entrance where the Vought security team loitered. “You really wanna drag the baby in there?”, he asked.

You sighed, glancing down at Aria. She was asleep, her tiny face peaceful. If you were going to go inside, it had to be now—before she woke up and demanded to be fed or changed.

“Yeah”, you said finally, adjusting your seatbelt. “Might as well get it over with”.

A-Train shrugged, stepping aside. “Your funeral”, he muttered.

The moment your feet moved, the security team straightened, their eyes flicking to you with immediate recognition.

“Ma’am”, one of them greeted, nodding. “Do you need an escort?”.

You shook your head. “No, I know the way”.

The guard hesitated, glancing at A-Train, who just raised an eyebrow. “Don’t look at me”, he muttered. “I’m just here for the ride”.

The guard nodded, stepping aside to let you through. With Aria’s car seat held securely in your grip, you headed into the tower, bracing yourself for whatever mess was waiting upstairs.

When you stepped into your office, you knew immediately that you’d been right to worry.

Stacks of paperwork cluttered your desk, several screens were open with half-finished reports, and your assistants—three of them—were scrambling through folders like they were putting out fires.

The moment they saw you, all three of them froze.

“Uh—(Y/N)!”. One of them, a young woman named Rebecca, practically jumped from her chair. “We weren’t expecting you!”.

You sighed, shifting Aria’s seat onto the edge of your desk. “Yeah, well, neither was half of this mess, I assume”.

Rebecca and the others exchanged nervous glances before nodding. “There’s… been a lot”, she admitted hesitantly. “We did our best, but there are some things only you can sign off on”.

“Of course there are”, you muttered, already feeling the headache forming.

Aria stirred in her seat, letting out a soft whimper, and all three assistants stiffened slightly, as if realizing for the first time that there was, in fact, a baby in the room.

Rebecca’s eyes widened. “Oh my God”, she whispered. “Is that…?”.

You sighed softly. “Yes, this is Aria”.

All three of them looked absolutely enchanted, their stress momentarily forgotten as they crowded a little closer.

“She’s so tiny”, one of them murmured.

“She’s adorable”, another added.

You let out a chuckle. “Yeah, she’s cute. But please… just tell me how bad it is”.

Rebecca straightened, clearing her throat. “Right. So, about the contract revisions—”.

Before she could finish, Aria let out a sharp, wailing cry.

All three assistants jumped.

“Oh no”, Rebecca whispered.

A-Train, standing at the doorway with his arms crossed, just snorted. “Yeah. Now it’s your problem”.

You let out a long sigh, barely holding back an exhausted groan as you reached down to unbuckle Aria from her car seat. The second she was free, you lifted her against your chest, cradling her close as you instinctively swayed on your feet, trying to soothe her.

Her tiny body tensed against you, her little fists curling into the fabric of your top, but as soon as she felt your warmth and heard the steady beat of your heart, her cries softened into small, hiccuping whimpers.

"Yeah, yeah, I know, baby girl", you murmured, rubbing slow circles on her back. "Life’s hard when you have zero responsibilities, huh?".

Your assistants, still standing awkwardly nearby, looked visibly relieved as Aria calmed down in your arms. Rebecca, however, still looked hesitant to speak, her eyes flicking between you and the mess of paperwork on your desk.

You sighed again, shifting Aria slightly in your arms so you could reach for a pen. “Alright”, you muttered, giving the pile of papers a resigned look, “what’s first?”.

Rebecca immediately perked up, stepping forward with a thick folder. “Uh—contract revisions first. Just need your signature to finalize the deals from last quarter”.

You adjusted Aria in one arm, balancing her against your shoulder while taking the pen in your free hand. It wasn’t ideal, but at this point, multitasking had become your default setting. You flipped through the pages quickly, scanning the contracts before signing your name where necessary.

Meanwhile, A-Train, who had been leaning against the doorway, finally made himself comfortable—plopping down onto the couch in your office like he owned the place. He let out a satisfied sigh, reaching into his jacket pocket before pulling out a bag of mixed nuts.

You shot him an incredulous look. “Seriously?”.

He shrugged, tossing a few into his mouth. “What? This is quality entertainment”, he said, his words slightly muffled as he chewed. “You, being all business with a baby in one arm? Kinda badass”.

You rolled your eyes but didn’t argue. Instead, you shifted your focus back to the paperwork, signing off on another document before flipping to the next.

Rebecca, who was still standing beside your desk, hesitated before speaking again. “Um… if you need to take a break, we can always come back to this later—".

“Nah, let’s just get it done now”, you mumbled, barely looking up as you signed another page. “The faster I get through this, the sooner I can leave”.

Aria shifted against you, letting out a sleepy sigh, her little body completely relaxed now. You exhaled softly, pressing a kiss to the top of her head before returning your focus to the endless stack of papers.

Just then, the door swung open with its usual dramatic flair, and there stood Frenchie, his ever-present grin widening the second he spotted Aria in your arms. “Ah, there she is! The littlest boss in the building!”, he declared, stepping inside with the same chaotic energy he always carried.

You blinked, momentarily thrown off. “Frenchie?”, you asked, shifting Aria slightly as you turned to face him. “Aren’t you supposed to be on the mission with Ben?”.

Frenchie gave you an exaggerated shrug, sauntering inside and flopping into the chair across from your desk. “Ah, mon amour, do you really think our dear, paranoid Soldier Boy would leave you here without reinforcements?”. He smirked, tapping his fingers against the arm of the chair. “Non, non. He sent me to ‘help’ A-Train”. His fingers curled into air quotes around the word help.

From the couch, A-Train scoffed, tossing a peanut into his mouth. “More like to babysit me while I babysit them”.

Frenchie grinned, not even trying to deny it. “Maybe. Maybe not. But let’s be honest, cherie”, he said, looking at you now. “Would you rather be left with just him?”. He gestured toward A-Train with a dramatic flourish.

You exhaled, shaking your head. “He knows I can handle myself”.

Frenchie nodded sagely. “Oui, oui, of course. But does that matter to a man who has spent the last month watching over you and this little one like a rabid dog?”. His grin softened as he leaned in, peering at Aria, who was still sleeping peacefully in your arms. “She is growing fast, no? Last time I saw her, she was just a tiny thing”.

“She is still tiny”, you said with a chuckle, adjusting her blanket.

Frenchie’s eyes twinkled with mischief as he reached for his coat pocket and pulled out something small—a tiny knitted beanie, deep green with a little white star stitched on the front. “I made this”, he said proudly, holding it up. “For her. To match her papa, non?”.

You gasped softly, touched by the gesture. “Frenchie… you knit?”.

He gave an exaggerated bow, his expression completely smug. “I contain multitudes”.

A-Train snorted from his spot on the couch, popping another peanut into his mouth as he shook his head. “Man, you gotta be real bored if you’re out here knitting hats for babies”.

Frenchie gasped dramatically, clutching his chest as if A-Train had physically wounded him. “Bored? Bored? Mon dieu, you wound me, mon frère! This is not boredom—this is art!”. He held up the tiny green hat proudly, tilting it from side to side as if admiring his craftsmanship. “Besides, would you not agree that the littlest Soldier deserves proper fashion?”.

You chuckled, adjusting Aria in your arms while flipping through the next set of reports in front of you. “Honestly, Frenchie, it’s adorable. Ben’s gonna pretend to hate it, but he’ll make sure she wears it at least once”.

Frenchie smirked knowingly. “Ah, but of course. He will grumble, roll his eyes, call me some colorful insult, and then, secretly, he will think she looks perfect in it”.

A-Train shook his head, smirking. “Man, you really got this guy figured out, huh?”.

Frenchie shrugged, placing the little beanie gently on your desk before lounging back in his chair. “Ben is not as complicated as he pretends to be”, he mused, watching as you skimmed another document. “Protective, aggressive, stubborn as hell—but he is, at his core, a man who has found something worth living for”.

You paused for a moment, your fingers lingering on the edge of the report. Your gaze dropped to Aria, her tiny fingers curling against your chest as she nuzzled into you. “Yeah”, you murmured softly. “He really has”.

Frenchie grinned. “And you, ma belle, have him wrapped around your little finger. But this one—” he gestured toward Aria—“she has him wrapped around her entire tiny, tiny body”.

A-Train snorted, tossing a peanut at Frenchie, who dodged it effortlessly. “Alright, Shakespeare, calm down with the poetry”.

You rolled your eyes, signing another paper while Aria shifted slightly against you.

The first night without Ben felt strange. Not that you weren’t capable—between Frenchie and A-Train, you had more than enough help—but the absence of his brooding presence made the house feel just a little too big, a little too quiet. Well, aside from Aria, who had no concept of time or the need for uninterrupted sleep.

At precisely 3:42 AM, she made that abundantly clear.

You had just gotten her settled after a feeding when A-Train, groggy and wrapped in a blanket he’d stolen from your couch, shuffled out of the guest room. His usually cocky demeanor was gone, replaced by a very tired man questioning every life choice that led him here.

“You said she was asleep”, he muttered, rubbing his face.

“She was”, you whispered back, bouncing Aria gently. “She changed her mind”.

A-Train stared at you, then at the baby. “Damn, you really are her mom”.

You threw a pillow at him.

The next afternoon, Frenchie arrived at your place with an entire duffel bag of baby supplies.

“I was thinking”, he said, setting it on the table. “She should have style. No offense, ma belle, but Ben is dressing her like a tiny recruit. It is tragic”.

You raised an eyebrow as he pulled out an assortment of baby clothes—frilly dresses, tiny berets, a literal miniature leather jacket.

“She is 6 weeks old, Frenchie”, you said, but you couldn’t help laughing.

“She is French”, he corrected. “By association”.

A-Train walked by, snatching the tiny leather jacket. “Okay, this one’s actually cool”.

By night four, the exhaustion was starting to creep in. You had barely closed your eyes when Aria started fussing. You were about to get up when you heard footsteps—Frenchie’s, light and careful.

Curious, you peeked out to find him standing over Aria’s bassinet, rocking her gently.

“You’re talking to her in French?”, you asked softly, leaning against the doorframe.

Frenchie looked over his shoulder, completely unbothered. “Of course. She must learn the language of romance early”.

You smirked. “Ben’s gonna kill you”.

Frenchie grinned. “He will grumble, then he will see how cultured she is and pretend it was his idea”.

On day six, A-Train had the brilliant idea to try to get Aria to sleep by running in place with her.

“Dude”, you deadpanned from the couch, watching him bounce slightly, cradling Aria in one arm like a football.

“Just trust me”, he said, keeping his speed controlled. “Babies like movement. The vibration calms them”.

Frenchie, sitting nearby, raised a skeptical brow. “Or she will throw up all over your supe suit”.

A-Train scoffed. “I’m literally a professional when it comes to control—”.

Aria burped loudly.

A-Train froze. “Oh, hell no”.

Too late.

The seventh night, you finally had a moment of peace. Aria had actually gone to sleep without much fuss, and you were curled up on the couch, staring at your phone.

Ben’s last message had been simple: Be back tomorrow.

You exhaled, letting the exhaustion sink into your bones. As much as you appreciated A-Train and Frenchie, you needed him home.

As if on cue, the front door opened.

Ben stepped inside, looking like he had been through hell and back—dirt still clinging to his supe suit, exhaustion clear in his sharp green eyes. But the second he spotted you on the couch, Aria asleep in her bassinet nearby, his entire body relaxed.

“You’re early”, you whispered, standing up.

He didn’t answer, just crossed the room in a few strides, pulled you into his arms, and kissed you. Hard.

“Missed my girls”, he muttered against your lips.

You smiled, resting your forehead against his. “We missed you too”.

From the hallway, A-Train groaned. “Man, come on. I just got comfortable”.

Frenchie smirked, tossing an arm over A-Train’s shoulder. “Ah, mon ami, let them have their moment”.

Ben shot them both a look. “You two still here?”.

“You’re welcome”, A-Train shot back, heading toward the door. “Your kid’s still in one piece. Barely”.

Ben rolled his eyes before turning back to you. He glanced at Aria, sleeping peacefully, and let out a breath. “She good?”.

“She’s perfect”, you murmured, brushing his hair back gently. “She knows her daddy’s home”.

Ben smirked, leaning down to scoop Aria up carefully. She stirred slightly, blinking up at him, and he softened instantly.

“Hey, chicken”, he murmured. “Bet you missed me”.

Aria yawned, scrunching up against his chest. Ben shook his head, smirking. “Yeah, yeah, I get it. You’re not impressed”.

You leaned against him, watching as he cradled her effortlessly, exhaustion forgotten.

Ben stayed still, holding Aria close, his rough fingers brushing over the soft blanket wrapped around her tiny body. She let out a sleepy little sigh, nuzzling against his chest, and for a moment, everything in the room stilled. His green eyes softened in a way only you had ever seen, his grip firm but impossibly gentle.

You wrapped your arms around his waist, pressing yourself against his side, soaking in the warmth of having him home again. His scent—faintly smoky, tinged with gunpowder and something undeniably Ben—was comforting in a way you hadn’t realized you’d missed so much.

“You look like shit”, you murmured, resting your head against his shoulder.

Ben snorted. “Fuck, thanks, sweetheart. You always this romantic, or is this just for me?”.

You smirked, tilting your chin up to press a kiss to the stubble on his jaw. “Only for you”.

From across the room, A-Train groaned dramatically, throwing his hands in the air. “Jesus, man, you just got back. Can you wait, like, an hour before you two start whispering sweet nothings?”.

Frenchie, still lounging near the kitchen. “Ah, mon frère, you don’t understand. L’amour does not wait”.

Ben shot them both an unamused look. “Why are you still in my house?”.

“You told us to stay”, A-Train shot back, rolling his eyes. “I was just following orders, Captain America”.

Ben muttered something under his breath, then turned his attention back to Aria, his fingers tracing over the curve of her tiny cheek. “Did they mess with you, huh?”, he murmured, ignoring the others completely. “Did these two fucking morons teach you anything stupid?”.

Aria let out a small noise, shifting slightly in his arms, and Ben smirked, glancing up at you. “Yeah, that’s what I thought”.

You smiled, nudging him gently. “They were good. Frenchie even knitted her a hat”.

Ben blinked. “He what?”.

Frenchie grinned proudly and reached into his coat, pulling out the tiny green beanie he’d made earlier in the week. “For the tiniest soldier”.

Ben stared at it for a long second before muttering, “Jesus Christ”.

“You love it”, you teased.

“I tolerate it”, Ben corrected, but you didn’t miss the way he carefully tucked it into his pocket.

A-Train stretched, letting out a yawn. “Alright, well, now that Dad’s home, I’m out”.

“Wait”, you said, grinning. “You’re running home? Thought you were comfortable”.

He narrowed his eyes at you. “Yeah, I was—until you two started making eyes at each other like a couple of teenagers”.

Ben rolled his eyes, adjusting his grip on Aria. “Good. Get lost”.

———————————

A/N: Just one more chapter... Please let me know what you think. 🥰

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Taglist: @deangirl96, @thatgirljayy, @suckitands33, @deans-spinster-witch@mimaria420@kaz11283@uncle-eggy@jackles010378@vxnilla-hxrddrugs @meowmeowyoongles@sarahgracej @zemosdarling228 @leila22rogers @mostlymarvelgirl@emily-winchester @blacknoirr @onlyangel-444@seasonofthenerd@staple-your-mouth@artemys-ackles@selfdestructionandrhum@mystic-mara @kat-nee @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @star-yawnznn @me1501 @CheyNovaK @faephoria @hobby27 @baby19sthings @fitxgrld @winchesterwild78 @uddiifiigj @libby99hb @urgogodancer @urinternetmom @mochminnie @laaadygisbooornex3 @fallout-girl219 @whump-loverz @ @fallout-girl219

[venturelovebot]

Fluffy February Day One: At First Sight

A/N: It's February! I hope you're all ready for a whole new month full of fluffy prompts, especially because Valentine's Day is only two weeks away! We got a lot in store for this month, so let's get started! Prompts by @fluffyfebruary, written in headcanon format. Comments and reblogs are deeply appreciated but not necessary!

Warnings: None! Pure fluff!

🩷 If you asked Sloan Cameron if love at first sight existed, they would easily tell you yes.

❤️ Not in terms of human beings, however.

💄 They couldn't count how many times an artifact had graced their sights, only to make their heart aflutter just thinking about its history and possible cultural significance.

💋 In terms of people? It's a much different story.

🪽 They honestly never thought about relationships that much. Nor settling down, starting a family or even going on a date for that matter.

🌹 A lot of things can change once you meet certain people, though.

🍫 The first ever conversation they had with you left them humming for the rest of the day.

💒 The softest pink blush painted their adorable face just thinking about talking to you again.

🧸 They did not consider it a crush. Weren't they a little too old for that sort of thing?

🩷 As it turns out, certainly not.

❤️ It wasn't until the second conversation rolled around that they realized how actually enamored they were with you.

💄 I'm sure you're surprised. Rest assured, so were they.

💋 When they really thought about it, though... maybe love at first sight was a thing after all.

🪽 Before your shared hours-long yap sessions, they remember how much you stood out amongst the crowd you were in.

🌹 Something about you was soft. Ethereal, angelic– maybe it was your well done hair, perhaps it was the fragrance that you wore. Your outfit was also incredibly eye catching as well.

🍫 "I'm sick and tired of their unending conversations with themself." Cupid Hanzo huffs. "If I can set them up, surely I can pull anything off!"

💒 It felt like a tiny thump inside their chest. Suddenly, they were floating.

🧸 When you turned to see who it was requiring your attention, hearts formed inside their citrine colored eyes.

🩷 "Can I help you?" You ask them with a smile.

❤️ "Oh! I– I was just– I wanted to– uh," All their words escaped them in that moment.

💄 You were working part time at the library in Toronto. They remember it all like it was yesterday.

💋 You were so patient and understanding. It was a particularly slow hour during the day, so it's not as if they were taking up any of your time.

🪽 "I wanted to–" They took a deep breath in. "Check these out?"

🌹 They placed several heavy, dusty books on the table from the archeological section of the library.

🍫 "Sure! Can I see your library card?" You inquired.

💒 They spent the next five minutes fumbling through their wallet like a dummy trying to find it.

🧸 Meanwhile, they talked your ear off about their latest project they were working on at the time.

🩷 You were anything but annoyed, though.

❤️ Everything they talked about was absolutely fascinating. Not only that, but their dynamic story telling had you deeply enthralled in all of their tales.

💄 "So, that's how I got assigned to the Anubis AI!" They grinned. "Pretty neat, huh?"

💋 "Mhm." You agreed, hand balancing your head underneath your chin.

🪽 "Well– umm– it was nice to meet you, [Y/N]!" Their body shook with nervousness. "I'll see you around sometime?"

🌹 "Maybe!" You hoped. "Take care!"

🍫 When they got back into their car to drive back home, they noticed a little piece of paper fall out onto the carpet below.

💒 'XXX-XXX-XXXX.'

🧸 Your number.

🩷 You stir softly in your sleep and it pulls them from their reminiscing.

❤️ "Mmh– awake? Still?" Sleep taints your voice.

💄 You drowsily reach out and tuck a sienna colored curl behind their ear.

💋 They lean in to place a kiss to your lips.

🪽 "Just remembering how we first met, that's all." They explain.

🌹 You smile at them with genuine happiness.

🍫 "Go to sleep. You need it." You lightly chide them.

💒 You close your eyes again and fall deeply into the recesses of your dreams.

🧸 Love at first sight. Love at every sight. Love they hold onto just for you.

🩷 "Hah! I told you so." Cupid Hanzo smirks from afar.

[365emotionlessfaces]

ahhhh! Here’s the next part. I had so much fun writing this!

The Aspiring Teachers Program

Part 2 WC:~1.7k

Melissa woke the next morning before anyone else in the cabin. ‘Not surprising,’ she thought. She had been getting up early for more than half of Parent Trap’s life. The other two in the room looked roughly around the same age, maybe mid twenties, Melissa guessed. She didn’t really care. She grabbed a pair of mid-thigh length khaki shorts, and pink tank top and a light denim button up out of her suitcase and headed to the bathroom to change. She pulled her hair into a loose ponytail, and after searching for a mirror ‘Or anything freakin’ reflective,’ and coming up empty handed, she decided two things. This would have to be good enough, and she was already giving up on putting effort into her looks for this thing.

After folding her pajamas neatly and setting them on her pristinely made bed, Melissa checked her watch to find that the mess hall wouldn’t even be open for breakfast for another half hour. She sighed and grabbed one of the few novels she had brought along. Stepping outside, she found a bench nearby and decided to read until she could go get some food.

“Hey!” Thirty seconds later Parent Trap slid onto the bench right beside Melissa, facing her, and the redhead noted that the girl left no room between the lengths of her shin and Melissa’s thigh before she looked up to meet those damn shiny eyes. “You wanna get some breakfast with me?” The girl sounded hopeful.

“They’re not open yet, Parent Trap,” Melissa replied, returning her gaze to her book. Feeling the young girl just staring at her she looked back at the girl, this time a little annoyed, though this time she wasn’t met with the girl’s eyes. The girl was looking down at where their legs were meeting. Only for a second, though, because she quickly locked eyes with Melissa before speaking again.

“They opened five minutes ago.” Melissa looked at her watch to see it had been much longer than thirty seconds since she sat down, and then at her book to see that she had read far more than she thought she had. She sighed and stood up, turning to face the young girl still seated on the bench.

“You head up there and get us a spot. I’ll be there in a minute,” Melissa told the girl, who smiled brightly in response. The Veteran teacher then turned to return her book to her suitcase before meeting the little Aspiring One, as Melissa decided she was now calling it, for breakfast. If she had decided to turn around at any moment on her way back, she would have caught her own Aspiring One staring right at her ass. But she didn’t, so she didn’t.

Ten minutes later, she was crossing the mess hall to sit down across from Parent Trap with a bowl of what Melissa was hoping was oatmeal. As she was making her way to the table, she looked at Parent Trap, using the opportunity to try and get a feel for the kid without her talking, or smiling that bright ass smile, or, God forbid, looking at her with those beautiful freaking eyes.

The girl was young, sure, but she had that weird kind of niceness to her that you know people only get by going through Hell. It was the girl’s armor. Melissa respected that. She sure as Hell didn’t understand it, but she respected it. Try as she might, Melissa couldn’t deny that the girl was beautiful. Gorgeous, even. A Philly ten. Give her eight to ten years, and she’ll be a Philly thirteen. That’s the thing, she’s a kid. Nineteen. Ain’t even in the trenches, yet.

Melissa sat down across from the girl and the girl lit up like freakin’ Christmas lights. She immediately starts planning for the first day’s event: making a birdhouse. Originally, Melissa had scoffed at the idea. It seemed stupid to her, but listening to the young girl across from her basically daydream out loud about building birdhouses with her future students was warming Melissa up to the idea. Besides, maybe learning how to make a birdhouse out of cheap crap she gets from donations or the dollar store might not be the worst idea she’d ever heard.

That was until she was actually building the damn birdhouse. There’s glue all over her hands, her birdhouse kinda resembles the cake from Sleeping Beauty, or maybe the Tower of Pisa, and someone on the other side of the room decided they wanted to use glitter, so, of course, that meant every person in the room had tiny silver specks of glitter somewhere on their persons. When she looked over to see that Parent Trap had somehow reconstructed the Fresh Prince’s house, she was both extremely impressed and frustrated that the girl had taken to it so easily.

After lunch and four more attempts at making a suitable home for a ruffed Grouse, Melissa called it quits and just watched as the girl beside her created masterpiece after masterpiece. When Bullhorn Lady, who was leading this little circus, decided that the activity was done for the day, she announced the winner- Parent Trap, of course- and, she released everyone for a free hour before dinner. The room cleared out quickly, as apparently Melissa was not the only one frustrated by their lack of architecture knowledge.

Melissa remained behind as Parent Trap planned out loud how she was going to get her birdhouses-more like birdcity- back to the cabin.

“I think they keep ‘em.” Melissa interrupted the girl’s reverie. When the girl looked back at Melissa like the redhead had kicked her puppy, it didn’t take very long for the older woman to cave. “Alright, you grab two, I’ll grab two, and we’ll make a run for it.”

“What about yours?” Melissa was in the process of grabbing one of the well-built birdhouses when she stopped.

“What about mine?” Parent Trap looked at Melissa with such an adorable puzzled look on her face. Melissa wasn’t sure if the girl was picking on her because of how poorly she made the birdhouse or not.

“Don’t you wanna take it home?” The girl was so earnest, Melissa decided there was no way the girl was being mean.

“Nah, it’s not that good. Yours, though. Look at ‘em. They could be in some teachin’ magazine. Make ya famous.” The girl’s blush nearly knocked Melissa off her feet.

“I think it doesn’t matter if it’s good or not. It’s your art. You made it, and art doesn’t have to be good, it just has to make you feel something,” the girl was looking at her shoes as she said those words, as if she were unable to look Melissa in the eye.

Melissa thought about being able to show the girl all of her projects that didn’t turn out as planned. She had a few failed pottery pieces sitting in the back of her closet, a flash drive containing a terrible attempt at a novel, and a bookshelf in her library that has an uneven leg because she thought she could build it herself. She thought about how the girl would react, and realized that she couldn’t even imagine the girl responding with anything but a heartwarming smile, and encouraging her to pursue any pipe dreams Melissa may have.

“I appreciate that, hon, but honestly, yours are more worth saving because those ones are wanted.” With that, Melissa scooped up two of the girl’s birdhouses and headed off towards their cabin. She missed Parent Trap grabbing her awkwardly built birdhouse and following her with gusto.

After putting the birdhouses on a table in the cabin, Melissa decided she wanted to use her free time to go for a swim. She grabbed her suit out of her suitcase and changed in the bathroom. By the time she exited, the birdhouses had been put away, and the young girl was laid down on her bed, writing in what Melissa assumed was a journal. She announced her exit, and the girl looked up and froze when her eyes met Melissa’s figure. Melissa smirked, and she might have put a little extra sway in her hips as she left the cabin. It’s not like she was doing anything, right? It was just nice to be looked at like she was wanted again. Joe hadn’t looked at her like that since long before they were even married, and here was this young little thing eyeing her like a piece of cake. She wasn’t gonna do anything, but she could enjoy the looks right?

Swimming was relaxing. Melissa had wandered down a path and found a hidden patch of beach that could comfortably fit two people. Three, if they were all short and petite. She enjoyed the seclusion, and listened to the sounds of nature around her. No one from the main beach could be seen from her little hideaway, and she had to swim pretty far out to even be able to see it. Too bad hide ‘n’ seek wasn’t one of the games because she knew she’d win with this spot. She spent her entire free hour at her new spot, and by the time she made it back to the cabin to change for dinner, everyone had already gone.

She made it to the mess hall, and stepped in line, ready for whatever they were serving tonight. She was starving. She was minding her business when she overheard a few people ahead of her in line talking, and her ears just couldn’t help themselves, they had to tune in.

“Did you guys see the girl that won the birdhouse thing?”

“She’s hot as Hell. I’d tap that.”

Melissa just rolled her eyes. Sure they weren’t wrong- Parent Trap really was a looker- but they didn’t have to be so crass. She tuned the rest of the conversation out, not wanting to hear anything that might have to make her beat the shit outta two Aspiring Ones.

She grabbed her meal of sloppy joes and a bag of chips and went to take her seat across from her own Aspiring Teacher. She was feeling a little peeved from the guys in line, but any negative feelings were forgotten as soon as Parent Trap smiled up at her. She then had to use all of her mental energy to ignore the fluttery feelings in her stomach.

“Glad you made it,” the young girl looked at Melissa in a way that the older woman could figure out.

“Me, too,” was all Melissa could muster.

Part Three

[angstywaifu]

I Only Want You - Liam Mairi

Request: Liam Mairi fic (smut) where he is the readers first time and he’s super sweet when she gets a little nervous or shy? Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Smut. Fingering. Unprotected P in V. Readers first time.

Masterlist | Support Me

Ever since battle brief and the comment I had made, I had felt Liam’s eyes on me all day. Every time I met his gaze he didn’t look away. He’d look at me as if he was trying to figure something out. Like if there had been a hidden meaning in my words. And there had been.

Ever since I’d laid eyes on Liam I had been attracted to him. He was easily one of the most attractive riders in the quadrant in my opinion. And I knew a lot of other girls thought that with how they looked at him. Especially in gym or challenges. The way he moved and handled himself, it was like an art form. An art form I’m sure translated to his skills in bed. My room was just up from his, and at least once or twice a week I would catch a girl sneaking out or in. Usually the same girls, but occasionally I would see someone different.

But I had never dare hinted I wanted to see what it was like. I didn’t want to risk the friendship we had. Liam and I had hit it off almost immediately after I very nearly kicked his butt in the first day of challenges when we had been paired up. He eventually got the better of me and won. But after he pulled me up from the mat and introduced himself, we’d been close friends since. But now it felt like we were at a turning point in our friendship after my comment.

“One time! It’s happened one time, Rhi!” Violet says loudly as I join my squad and take my place next to Rhiannon.

*“Right. And what would you call that whole thing with Tynan?” Rhiannon asks in a sassy tone that nearly has me laughing.

”Threshing.” Violet says in a way to try shrug it off.*

*“And what about Barlowe’s constant threats?” I ask as I lean around Rhiannon with a smirk on my face. Liam shakes his head at me, knowing I’m just fuelling the fire now.

”They’re just threats. The only time I’ve actually been targeted was at night, and it’s not like Liam here is sleeping in my bedroom.”*

*He pauses his wood carving as he shrugs his shoulders. “I mean, I’m not opposed-”

”Don’t even start.” Violet whips her head towards Liam. “You are a shameless flirt.”

His usually cocky grin spreads across his face. “Thank you.”*

“It wasn’t a compliment.”

Rhiannon leans back in her chair and laughs. “Don’t mind her, she’s just sexually frustrated. Makes a girl crabby.” Adds as she starts writing in her book.

“That has nothing to do with it.” Violet mutters.

“And yet I don’t hear you denying it.” Rhiannon adds with a sweet smile.

“I’m sorry I don’t make the cut.” Liam says teasingly.

“Maybe not for her.” I add a little too flirtatiously, causing Liam’s eyes to snap to me as I sink back into my chair trying to hide behind Rhiannon as my cheeks flush bright red. Shit.

I yet again felt his eyes on me as I walked into the dining hall. As my eyes scan the hall I find him sitting with Xaden, Garrick and Bodhi. All of whom are looking at me then back at Liam before laughing at him. Were they talking about me? Surely not. I tear my gaze from them and grab some food for dinner before walking over to Imogen and Rhiannon who were the only ones in our squad at our usual table. Both of them going silent as I take seat next to Imogen and slowly pick at my food.

“You ok? You’ve been super quiet since battle brief?” Rhiannon asks as I roll a potato around my plate.

“Honestly, I don’t know.” I tell her as I look up at her. Behind her I see Liam and Xaden looking over at me.

“Regretting the comment you made to Liam about sex?” Rhiannon teases me as Imogen’s head whips towards me.

“Clearly I need to sit closer to you first years in battle brief. What did you say to him?” She asks a she props her head up on her arm as she looks at me, wiggling her eyebrows.

“Violet made a comment about missing sex, and the boys started being well boys and Violet shot them down, then this one her pipes up and says to Liam maybe he’d make the cut for someone else. Gods I’ve never seen those boys eyes go as wide as they did when those words left her mouth.” Rhiannon informs Imogen.

“And he’s been avoiding me ever since. Successfully ruined that friendship.” I say sarcastically as I finally stab the potato on my plate.

“And yet his eyes have not left you once since battle brief.” She adds sternly.

“Wait, you haven’t hooked up with him?” Imogen asks as her eyebrows furrow in confusion.

“Wait, you think Liam and I have slept together?”

She shrugs. “I mean with the way he looks at you and follows you around. Hell no guy goes anywhere near you because of him, and trust me they’ve tried. Even poor Bodhi over there wanted to have a shot with you before Liam sternly told him to look elsewhere.”

I shake my heat at them. “Trust me, not been there or done that. Not with anyone. And he doesn’t see me that way.”

Both girls look at me like I’ve told them the skies as pink as Imogen’s hair.

”Wait, you’re a virgin?” Rhiannon asks, lowering her voice so only I can hear her.

I nod. “Yes, and he definitely wont want to be with someone who has no experience/”

“You girl are so blind and oblivious.” Imogen states bluntly.

“I am not. If he wanted to be with me he would’ve tried. And he hasn’t. And I don’t want to be added to the list of girls he brings back to his room every other night.” I say a little too angrily.

“And also jealous apparently.” Imogen adds with a smirk.

“Am not.”

”Then how many girls are there?” Rhiannon asks.

I purse my lips together. And it’s all the answer they need from me to prove their point. “It doesn’t matter. He’s not the one girl kind of guy. And I don’t want to be on a list. It ain’t happening.”

“Maybe you just need to shoot your shot? What’s the worst that could happen?” Imogen adds so casually.

”I ain’t wrecking the friendship more than I have already. It will all be fine in a few days. He’ll sleep with someone and forget all about it.”

”I don’t know, that boys eyes have barely left you since you walked in and sat down. I say just go for it.” She adds before turning her attention back to her food.

I look up and immediately meet Liam’s blue eyes. I feel like he’s staring into my soul. As if trying to read my mind and intentions behind that comment. I shove my barely touched plate of food away before walking out of the dining hall and back to my room. I’m glad neither Rhiannon or Imogen try to follow me. Clearly deemed I’d had enough teasing for the evening. But in my hurry to leave, and my mind elsewhere. I don’t hear another set of feet following me, running to catch up. It’s not till they call out to me, that my blood runs cold with dread and my heart starts beating at a rapid pace.

“Y/N, wait up!” Liam calls behind me.

Only one more corridor and I can hide in my room for the night. Hide and deal with this tomorrow. I push my legs faster hoping my pace is faster than his. But it isn’t, and his hand grasp my wrist and spins me towards him. His other hand reaching out to steady me as I collide with his very solid muscular chest beneath his tight fitting black linen shirt. Too embarrassed to look him in the eye, I keep my eyes focused on the ground. He goes to grab my chin to raise my head but I tilt my head to the side and avoid his grip. I don’t have to know his eyes are furrowed at me right now. I’ve never avoided him touching me like that. Like I hated being close to him.

”Can you look at me?” He asks softly, his hand falling to his side.

I keep my eyes firmly on the floor. “What do you want Liam?”

”I want you to look at me Y/N. I want you to talk to me and not ignore me like I’m the plague like you have since battle brief.”

Anger flairs in me and has my eyes flicking up to his in an instant. “You weren’t exactly doing much better.” I snap.

He chuckles at me. “There she is.” I roll my eyes and go to leave, but he reaches out again and grasps my wrist.

I turn back and face him, watch as he swallows slowly, nervously. His eyes darting over me. Liam was nervous. Something I could say I had never seen him be.

“Are you ok?” I ask quietly.

”That comment you made today. In battle brief.” I gulp. Shit. “Did you mean you when you made that comment?”

I roll my eyes. “Heaps of girls want to be with you Liam, you know that.” I say trying to dodge the questions as I look down at my hands.

”That’s not what I asked.” He pleads, his fingers grasping my chin and forcing my eyes back to him. My breath catches in my throat at the intensity in his gaze “Did you mean you?”

His voice is almost pleading. Like, like he wanted my words to mean me. That I wanted him. That he would make the cut for me. That I would let him in.

”And what if I did? What if I was meaning me?” I ask quietly as I take a cautious step closer and place a hand on his chest as his hand moves from my chin to cup my cheek.

”Then we might need to go somewhere else if you did sweetheart.”

Gods I could have melted at the huskiness in his voice.

”I’m not being another girl on your list. It’s not what I want. And….”

“And what?” He asks, leaning down towards me.

”I’m…. I’ve never been with anyone. Ever.” I confess, averting my eyes from his.

”You would be the only girl on my list if you meant you. I only want you.” His voice so soft and gentle as his thumb runs over my cheek.

I look back up at him, his blue eyes piercing into mine. ”Then yes. I did mean me.”

I gasp as Liam backs me into my closed door, my legs locking around my waist as he kisses me, so soft and gentle as if testing the waters. He bites my lip before pushing his tongue into my mouth when I gasp at the sensation. His hands push under my shirt, his fingers skimming up and down my sides. I moan into his mouth as his grip around my waist tightens. His weight pushing me back into the door. I instinctively wind my fingers into his hair, as I tug I feel the moan rumble from his chest before he removes his lips from mine and rests his forehead on mine.

“Do that again.” He whispers against my lips.

I smile and do as he says, tugging on his blonde hair. I watch as his eyes darken and flare with desire. He walks backwards from the door, placing me back on my feet as he pushes the jacket from my arms and tugs on the bottom of my shirt. I raise my arms and he’s quick to discard of the material before removing his own. I go to trace the relic on his arm, but he kneels and starts to remove my boots, followed by my pants and underwear. He slowly stands back up, kissing his way back up my leg, sending shivers through my body. As he stands to his full height, he quickly removes his pants, exposing himself to me. He chuckles as I take him in. All of him.

Neither of us speaks, not wanting to break the moment. Liam grabs my hand and pulls me with him as he sits down on desk chair, guiding my legs either side of him. I go to sit but his hands hold me up by my waist. One of his hands slowly moves down, his fingers lightly caressing my skin as he makes his way between my legs. My hands grasps his shoulders as a moan rips from my throat as he inserts to fingers into me, my eyes closing as my head rolls back. He curls his fingers inside me, hitting the perfect spot, causing my to jump forward a little, but Liam’s hand keeps me steady as he chuckles at my reaction. He slowly slips his fingers from me as I groan at the loss. Liam’s hand comes up and cups my cheeks, my eyes opening to meet his.

“You ready?” He asks me, eyes blown wide with lust, but looking at me like I am the most precious thing in the world.

I look down at him. Gods I’m nervous. But I wanted him. I wanted him so badly. And now all embarassment and regret from making that comment in battle brief was gone. Because now I had Liam sitting below me, looking at me like I’m his everything.

I nod. “I’m ready.”

My eyes go wide as he stretches me open. It takes all my will power to keep my eyes open and looking at him. They risk fluttering shut but I force them open. My fingernails dig into Liam’s shoulder, definitely leaving marks as he lowers me slowly onto him. Eventually he sheaths himself inside me as I sit in his lap, a moan rippling through me and him.

He leans back in the chair as best as he can, as he starts to thrust slowly up and down. Each thrust pulling sounds I didn’t know were possible to come out of me as I clench around him. Every time i clench around him his fingers dig into my waist. His lips meet my neck, pressing light kisses and bites as he moves his way down my neck. As my fingers slip back into his hair and tug, he bites down hard causing me to yelp.

Liam thrusts up into me as he wraps his arms around my waist as he stands up, keeping himself inside me as he walks over to the bed and lays me down. He hitches my legs over his shoulders, immediately making me moan with out even moving. The position of my legs now having him hit a completely different angle in me. He smirks at me as I squirm under him. His hands find their place either side of my head as he leans forward and thrust into me. This time I am unable to keep my eyes on him as they roll back and flutter close. Liam clearly forgotten about the command he had given me as I clench around him and his pace picks up.

My hands reach up and pull Liam’s lips down to mine in a passionate kiss that is a fight for dominance. Each of us biting at our lips, our tongues fighting, Eventually Liam wins as my fingers run down his chest. He moves one of his hands to raise my hips, my eyes flying open at the new angle as Liam rests his forehead against mine as he stares into my eyes. A silent command to keep my eyes on him as we finish. With the rate I’m clamping down around him, he knows I’m close. Liam shifts his balance on his legs, his hand not raising my hips moving to my most sensitive bundle of nerves. Immediately I come undone beneath him. His name rolling off my lips, mine soon tumbling off his as he finishes as well.

In one swift movement Liam rolls to his side, pulling me with him and cradling me against his chest. He presses a kiss to the top of my head as his fingers trace up my thigh and back, lulling me into sleep. Liam must sense me dozing off in his arms as he pulls the blanket over us, his arms tightening around me as I doze off into the best sleep I’ve ever had.

[veilsofroses]

Mayuri Kurotsuchi x f!reader part 2

warnings: dissection process discussed, suggestive author’s note: mayuri is so interesting and fun to write for, definitely not your conventional kind of guy at all and i love it word count: 1.1k

part 1

︶︶꒷꒦︶꒦︶꒷︶︶

You somehow managed to avoid going under Captain Mayuri’s knife for the time you’ve been the 12th Division’s Fourth Seat. But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t stare daggers into you every time you looked. Or that he wouldn’t continue to try to lure you into his lab every chance he got. 

Weirdly enough, though, you didn’t mind his strange antics. You actually looked forward to seeing what the new day brought in this game of cat and mouse you had going on. 

As for your work, your reputation continued to precede you and you met those expectations gracefully. Quickly enough, your knowledge proved to be a valuable asset to the institute and you became a favorite among the 12th Division members. 

Despite all this newfound attention, however, something still nagged at you. 

Captain Mayuri definitely wasn’t shy about his physical attraction to you. He alluded to “scrambling your insides” and made flirtatious remarks in the way a mad scientist who gets turned on by mad science would, “I can’t decide whether I should take you apart or preserve you whole.” You giggle to yourself at the memory. 

But.. sometimes you wished Mayuri would acknowledge your hard work more, your intelligence. His work was your biggest inspiration throughout your time at the academy, it was only natural you sought out his approval, but he hardly gave it. 

The other members warned you not to have high expectations of praise from him, he never would even if they found the cure for soul cancer. 

You sigh, you should really focus on what’s in front of you right now. 

Your hands work meticulously taking apart your new specimen—a menos grande hand that had been preserved before the rest of the body had vanished. 

You slide your scalpel along the side of the palm and around enough to open the skin. You grab forceps and pull the skin open revealing the inside of the palm. You’re about to grab pins to hold the skin open when you feel an immense spiritual pressure reveal itself behind you, causing you to yelp, dropping the pins on the table. 

“Did I frighten you?” you can hear his sly smile. 

You huff, regaining your composure and dusting yourself off. “Please don’t sneak up on me like that or else I might contaminate the specimen,” you say over your shoulder without turning around. 

His steps echo through the lab as he walks up beside you, his hands tucked in his sleeves. He shrugs, “Contaminated or not, no specimens ever go to waste,” he says lightly. 

You do everything not to roll your eyes. 

“You’re angry with me,” he states like it’s the most obvious observation about his latest experiment. Since the first day, he was able to read you easily so you shouldn’t be surprised. 

“What reason do I have to be angry with you?” You try your best to sound casual, you really don’t have a reason to be upset. 

You pick up the scalpel again, cutting a thin piece of muscle from the open palm and placing it on an empty microscope slide. 

You watched him from the corner of your eye as he watched you closely. He looked at you like he was trying to pick you apart just with his stare. You almost expected your limbs to start detaching themselves. 

After what felt like ages, he looks down at the open menos grande hand and spoke. “You know, I read all of your works from your academy days.”

You whip your head towards him, eyes wide. “Yes, all 237 of them,” he answers like he knew your next question. His gaze met yours. You desperately want to know what he thought of them. Of what he thought about that glimpse into your head. 

And like he heard your thoughts again, “Your mind is truly a force to be reckoned with. You brought up theories even I had never considered before, giving me a new lens to view from. You’re brilliant.” He still wore his signature flat smile, his face completely unreadable as he gave you the reassurance you had been praying for. 

Your eyes remain wide, mouth slightly agape. You’re speechless, so surprised he would ever actually admit that. 

“Did I say something strange? I thought you were already aware of the capabilities of your intelligence. Perhaps I am mistaken in my judgment?” 

You shake your head, shaking off your surprise and you look back down at the hand on the table, forceps in hand. 

“No, you’re not. I am aware of it.”

“But?” he pushes. 

“But you just never say anything. I suppose I just wasn’t sure you believed it,” you look down, smiling and shaking your head at how ridiculous you sound. 

Silence fills the space for a moment and you’re convinced he lost whatever faith he had in you. 

“For being so smart, you really are a dumb girl.” 

You turn your head to argue but he snakes his hand around your waist, you feel his long nails graze your back, pulling you into him tightly causing you to drop the forceps. 

Your face burns at his proximity but you meet his gaze. Your hands drop on his chest. His eyes hold a softness that you’ve never seen before. 

“Y/n.” No titles, no condescension. Your name rolls off his tongue like it was made for him to say. “Do I have to sing your praises for you to understand that you’ve become irreplaceable for me? Not only that disgustingly brilliant mind of yours but you. It’s become quite annoying how you take up my mind. Unfortunately, I’m sure that you are all you’d see if you dissected my brain and I’m quite tired of it.”

You’re trying to follow but can’t seem to tell if this is a confession or if you’re about to get fired. 

And your confusion must be written on your face because he deadpans, his eyebrow twitching in annoyance. 

“Stupid girl,” his hand roughly grabs your face and he crashes his lips into yours. You freeze, caught off guard by his surprisingly soft lips, but you finally melt into the kiss, returning it with the same intensity. 

After a moment, you both finally pull away. You feel his chest rise and fall heavily, his heart beating in his chest. 

“Based on your current breathing and heart rate, I’d say you like me,” you smirk. 

He simply grabs your waist and throws you over his shoulder, walking towards his lab, “I simply must get to the bottom of why I like you so much.” You giggle, kicking your feet and accepting your fate.

- - - - - - - tag: @stygianoir

[rainbow-rey]

Shameless - chap. 1

Sukuna x Reader - MDNI!!

Summary: You didn't expect to end up under that guy you met on your weekend getaway, but you're glad you did.

Tags: reader-insert, pov second person, p in v, creamp/e, size k/nk, c/nnilingus

Posted on ao3 as a longfic

It’s at a hockey game that you first meet Sukuna Ryoumen. 

Minnesota Wild versus Seattle Kraken. You’re a Seattle fan through and through, and you were lucky enough to be visiting your friend in the East the very weekend your favourite team was playing there. You bought tickets as soon as you realized the dates lined up. 

Fast forward two weeks, and here you are. You’re donning your navy blue jersey, the one you got at your first Seattle game. Your friends, Shoko and Utahime, are getting seated to your left. 

On your right is an adorable pink-haired little kid, probably around six or seven. He turns to say something to the guy next to him—possibly the most attractive man you’ve ever seen in your life. 

He’s big. Like, at least twice your size, if not triple. His arms are crossed, and the flexed muscles show through his sweater—a deep green one. It matches the Minnesota hat he wears on top of his hair, the same shade of pink as the kid’s. He’s got interesting tattoos on his face. 

Despite him being the enemy, you can’t stop your eyes from dragging up and down his body. He looks like he’s never smiled a day in his life, but when the kid taps his shoulder to talk to him, his face lights up. He answers with enthusiasm, and says something to make the little boy start giggling. Hot and good with kids? They don’t make them like this anymore. 

You might be drooling, but luckily you’re saved when Shoko nudges you to wake you from your trance. “Whoa, dude. You were totally staring at that guy.”

“I was justified, though. Look at him!” You discreetly side-eye the mysterious man to your right. “Hot hockey dad? Sign me up!”

“He’s a Minnesota fan. Might as well give up now. What’re you gonna do when you drive back on Monday?” Shoko has a good point—but what’s the harm in a little hallway crush?

“He also might be married, if he’s got a kid,” says Utahime, taking a bite out of a comically large pretzel.

“I’ll check for a wedding band. D’you think I could find a way to talk to him?” You look over to see the man tickle the boy, making him erupt into contagious little-kid giggles. 

Shoko sighs. “You’re something special, man. No, I don’t know how you’re gonna seduce a married father.”

“Not seduce, and potentially not married, either. God forbid I have a little hope, Sho.”

“I think that what Shoko is saying is to set your expectations very low,” Utahime tells you, very wisely. “If you talk, you talk, and if you don’t, you don’t. It’ll be weird if you try to force anything.”

Shoko nods in agreement. “Also, if you humiliate the shit out of yourself in front of him, we don’t know you.”

“Never seen you in our lives.” Utahime nibbles at her pretzel again. 

“Thanks, guys. I love hearing how much you appreciate and value my company.” 

“Knock ‘em dead, bro.” 

The first goal is scored, and you cheer with the other Seattle fans. Hot Dad’s son stands up, too, jumping with you. 

“Wrong team, Yuji,” he says. “We like the green ones.”

“Aww..” The boy—Yuji—pouts. “Why can’t I cheer for the blue ones?” 

“Because that’s not our team. You live here, Yuji. Don’t you wanna support people from your own state?”

“Yeah, but you live in Seattle. Why don’t you like your city?”

He lives in Seattle?! And Yuji doesn’t live with him… Maybe he’s only an uncle?

“I do like my city, but I used to live here. I grew up with this team. I’m only in Seattle so I can go to school.”

He’s in university—you wonder if you’ll see him around? Probably not. Hot Uncle will most likely stay in your fantasies.

The game finishes before you know it. Nothing interesting happens—other than Seattle winning—for the rest of the weekend. Soon, it’s time for you to go back to your city and start the new school year. 

Your first week is uneventful; it’s your second year, so you don’t need to go to all the networking events you forced yourself into attending last year. It’s just straight into lessons. 

You heard about a few different parties, but you’d rather be there with at least a few people you know, and none of your friends were interested. Satoru mentioned that he wanted to host one, so you’d go to his, but that’s about it. This year, you’re mostly focused on your grades. 

Well, that’s what you thought. All your ambitions fly out the window when a familiar tattooed face sits down next to you in your Sociology lesson. 

“This might sound crazy,” he whispers. “But were you at a hockey game last weekend?”

Holy shit. He recognizes you?

“Uh, yeah. In Minnesota, right? I think we were sitting next to each other?”

“Mhm. I was with my brother, Yuji. I knew you looked familiar. Glad to know I’m not crazy.”

You chuckle. “If it wasn’t you, I’d be a little confused. Not many pink-haired powerlifters around here.”

He laughs. “Thanks—Oh, I can’t believe I didn’t introduce myself. I’m Sukuna Ryoumen.”

You tell him your name as well. He opens his mouth as if to say something, but is cut off by your professor beginning his lecture. 

“Let’s talk later,” he mouths to you. You nod and smile to yourself.

About 30 minutes after your lecture, you have this strange feeling that you’re being followed. 

“Hey,” a familiar voice calls behind you. You were right. The speaker quickens his pace to reach you. “What’s up?”

“Nice to see you again! I don’t have much going on, just heading to the library. You?”

Sukuna shrugs. “I’ve got a class in that direction at two. Otherwise I don’t have anything.”

“It’s one forty-five, you should probably get going. Oh, but do you have plans this evening?”

“Nah, I was just gonna watch TV or something. Why do you ask?”

“My friend Satoru is throwing a party tonight. It starts at ten, if you want to join us.”

“I’m down. Here, I’ll give you my number, so you can text me the address.” Sukuna pulls a random pen out of his pocket. He reaches for your hand and scribbles his number on it. 

You laugh, ignoring the way your hand tingles where he touched it. “I’ll text you. See you tonight, hopefully?”

“See you tonight,” he agrees.

—

“Sukuna! You made it!” You wave over the giant who’s just entered the room. He towers over most of the people—he’s even taller than Satoru, and definitely bigger overall. Sukuna has the most muscle you’ve seen on a human. Something about his physique makes you want to climb him like a tree, but that’s an inside thought. 

His gravelly voice brings you back to the present. “Yeah, I’m here. Do you know where I could get a drink?”

“Sure. Why don’t you come to the kitchen with me and I’ll grab you one?” You grab his (huge, veiny, rough, masculine) hand and drag him through the crowd. 

Once you’re in the kitchen, Sukuna takes a seat on a stool at the counter. “What can I get for you, sir?” 

He smiles and you almost collapse. But you persevere. “I’ll just get a beer, thanks.”

“Alright, then I guess I’ll have one too.” You pull two random longnecks from Satoru’s fridge . You try to look cool and open them using the counter, but of course, the caps go flying. You pick them up whilst trying to regain your dignity, ignoring Sukuna’s barely concealed snicker. “Something funny?” You ask, handing him his bottle. 

“Nothing at all.” He grins at you again, and your knees start wobbling. But again, you persevere. You skirt around the counter and take a seat next to Sukuna, taking a long swig of your drink. You gag a little—it’s been too long since you last had beer, and you forgot how much of an acquired taste it is. 

“So,” Sukuna starts. “Whose house is this again?”

“My friend Satoru. He’s, like, old money rich, so his parents got him this place when he started uni. Suguru lives with him, too. Satoru dated my friend Utahime—the one who lives in Minnesota—but they decided they were better friends. And also that they were both gay.” 

“Ah. So are Satoru and Suguru…”

“Yep. I mean, I don’t think they’re official yet, but Suguru’s been into Satoru since we were kids. And they’re definitely fucking. Haven’t seen him in his own bedroom for months.”

“Oh.”

The two of you chat while you finish your beers. Sukuna actually makes great conversation. He’s funny, too. Hot and funny? He’s gotta be stupid, or something. 

“Truth or dare!”

“Truth, I guess,” you sigh. Why did you agree to play this game in the first place? If you know one thing about your friends, it’s that they really hate seeing you comfortable. 

Satoru’s grin makes your stomach churn. “If you had to fuck someone in this circle right now, who would it be?”

You glance around. Nanami, Satoru, Suguru, Shoko, Sukuna, and two girls whose names you don’t know. You only really have one option (not that you would have chosen anyone over him anyways). Your voice cracks slightly as you answer, “Sukuna.” Your cheeks flare as you feel his eyes on you, but you don’t have it in you to feel shame. 

Two rounds later, it’s Sukuna’s turn. 

Suguru asks the highly-anticipated question. “Truth or dare?”

“Dare.” His eyes are on you as he says it. You can feel them burning into your flesh. 

“I dare you to kiss the hottest person in the circle.”

Sukuna’s eyes are still glued to you as he stands up. He doesn’t avert his gaze, not as he offers you his hand and brings you to your feet. Especially not as he slides his hand behind your neck, burying itself into your hair. He only stops looking at you when he closes his eyes and lifts your mouth to his. 

It feels like everything you’ve ever dreamed of. His lips are shockingly soft, and they dance against yours so perfectly. Your mouth parts and his tongue slides in, caressing you so carefully yet so powerfully. It’s not long before you’re devouring each others’ faces. 

Satoru clears his throat. “I love that you guys are happy, but respectfully, please get a room.” 

The two of you pull apart quickly. You return to your respective seats and continue the game, but the vibe is a little different. Y’know, after you just sucked Sukuna’s tongue in front of five other people.

Nothing interesting happens for the rest of the game, other than Sukuna giving you sex eyes the whole time. As soon as you’re all finished, he steals you away from your conversation with Satoru. 

“Hey. Satoru, right?” Sukuna’s hand slips around your waist. “Nice party. Unfortunately, I’m here to steal this one away from you.“ He places a kiss on the top of your head. 

Satoru snorts. “She’s all yours. Oh, and all the rooms upstairs are fair game, just don’t get cream on my furniture.” 

You blush furiously as Sukuna laughs. “Thanks, man.” He guides you towards the stairs and into a hallway. 

“What was that?” you ask. “During the game, I mean.”

“Oh, you mean this?” He smirks, pulling your face up to meet his again. When your lips connect, you nearly decompose, melting into his touch. He’s gentler this time, more careful. One of his hands is behind your neck, threading through your hair, while the other pulls you in by your waist. You can feel his erection grow in between your bodies, and he’s big. You can’t help but imagine how it would feel—in your mouth, in your pussy…

You're breathless when you finally break away from the kiss, for multiple reasons. 

“Y-Yeah, I mean that,” you squeak out.

Sukuna pulls you into a random, empty bedroom and shuts the door behind you. 

His mouth meets yours yet again as he collapses with you on the bed. His lips pepper kisses along your neck , and he makes his way down your body. “Been wanting you since I met you,” he murmurs between pecks. “So fuckin’ small n’ delicate. Thinkin’ of you getting split apart on my fuckin’ cock.” 

You shiver at the thought of it. Sukuna’s fat dick pounding into you. His hands bruising your waist as he fucks up into your tiny cunt. You picture him pumping you full with his cum, overflowing your pussy with his seed. “Please,” you whine. “Fuck me, Sukuna, I need it. I’ve needed it for so long…” 

He nips at your collarbone. “Mm, gonna fuck you so good, baby. But first, I gotta get you all ready for me.” His hands run down your body, cupping your breasts through your shirt with a gentle squeeze. They trail down, all the way to your thighs. He flips your skirt up and massages the skin right next to your panties. He plants kisses on the insides of your legs, finishing with a quick peck of your clit through the fabric. Even the slightest sensation eases a moan out of you. 

“Don’t tease me,” you cry. “I want you, please!” 

“Wait, let me just grab a condom.” You deflate slightly as Sukuna pats down his pockets. 

You weren’t going to suggest this, but it looks like you might have to, considering Sukuna is still patting away.

“I’m clean. If, y’know. If you’re comfortable with that.”

His eyes light up, but then he frowns. “I haven’t gotten tested in a while. I couldn’t put you at risk.”

You hate how responsible he is. “And no condom?”

“Nope. I’m sorry. I wanted this as bad as you do.” He really does look disappointed, and so does his boner. “I’d still eat your pussy, though, if you let me.” 

“Fuck, please do. I want you so bad,” you sigh, thinking about your soaking pussy.

Sukuna groans. His rough hands grasp your thighs, pushing them apart, and he rubs a knuckle along the soaked fabric of your panties. Your cunt aches with need. Sukuna’s fingers leave your core, making you whine, but he makes up for it when he hooks his index into the waistband of your panties and tugs them down. Your pussy clenches when the cool air hits it. Sukuna presses close-mouthed kisses to the soft skin of your thighs, making his way towards where you need him the most. 

He parts your sopping folds with two fingers, and his tongue darts out to lick a stripe up your cunt. You cry out in pleasure.

“F-fuck… hnngh…! M-more, more!” you whimper. 

Sukuna continues lapping at your hole, while his hands take a bruising hold on your hips. You can feel yourself nearing your limit as he begins sucking at your swollen clit. You’re nearly screaming as your fingers find sanctuary in his hair, pulling at it as hard as you can. You think it can’t get any better, when Sukuna decides to push two fingers into your center. 

“Fuck! Fuck, I’m coming, I’m coming…”

You’re pushed off the edge as Sukuna starts thrusting with his fingers. Your pussy clenches, your body convulsing as he continues his assault on your cunt. Your vision goes white, the only thing you can feel being his tongue and his fingers. 

You recover from your orgasm, panting. Sukuna’s touch leaves your pussy, and you can feel your hole leaking. Sukuna collapses next to you, sucking your cum off his fingers. “You taste so fucking good, y’know that?” He grins as you blush. “Here, I’ll show you.” 

He grabs you by the waist and pulls you on top of him, then brings his lips up to yours, encasing them in a kiss. His tongue slips into your mouth, tangling itself with yours. The way his body feels pressing against yours is enough to satisfy you for a lifetime. 

[solavillain]

is it too much to ask for people to just. make time for me.

why am i always the one asking "hey want to do x"

80% of the time the answer is no anyway.

i want quality time with my friends but i'm starting to believe i don't have many left.