#and then turning it around onto him and hitting him over the head with the reminder that

[writing-mlm]

I think I’ll stay here, just for a second

Summary: Ekko can come to enjoy this Pairing: Ekko x gender neutral reader wc: 700 a/n: SPOILERS FOR ARC 3 OF ARCANEE, i wrote this while watching ep 7

This was wrong. All of this was wrong. Jinx… Powder— whoever she was in this timeline was good, Vander, Milo, Claggor, and— God— Benzo were alive but Vi was dead and… you. Holy shit, you’re alive, too. You’re alive and just how he remembers you. 

He touches your face as he remembers your death, how you died after being taken in by Silko with Powder. How your death was nothing but another day for Zaun, another Undercity kid who got what they deserved from an enforcer. He remembers how he held your body, there’s been so much blood. He didn’t recognize your face, it haunted his dreams for years. It still does, if he’s being honest. 

But now here you were; able to grow up. You still lived with your brother; he didn’t die after he tried to get you back from Silko. He became the chef he always wanted to be and you… his eyes swim in yours as you smile, pressing your face deeper into his hand. 

“You must’ve hit your head pretty hard, huh.” You tease. 

He’d quite literally bumped into you after rushing out from the bar, stumbling into everything, and knocking things over. He looked at you like he saw a ghost and for a moment you swear you saw tears swimming in his eyes. 

“Yeah,” He nods, collecting himself. “Yeah, I did.” His hand drops from your face and you quickly scoop it up, dragging him in another direction before he has the chance to realize. 

“Where’re we going?” His feet stumble forward before he catches himself and keeps pace with you. You look back at him, winking before pressing a finger to your lips. “Okay,” He laughs this light and airy laugh, letting himself believe, even if it’s just for a moment, that you’re alive. That Jinx isn’t Jinx. That Benzo is alive. That this is where he’s meant to be. 

You take him to a spot he’s all too familiar with; a spot you’d created when you were kids tucked inside an empty sewer pipe. Only now it’s grown and the pipe is the entrance. He holds the top as he struggles to keep up, clearly, this was second nature to you. It must’ve been second nature to this timeline Ekko’s too because it quickly grows easier. 

Coming out on the other side, he finds a large room. It’s messy, with drawings and objects haphazardly arranged; lights adorning the ceilings and walls, and couch cushions pushed to the corner. 

He stumbles inside while you toss two cushions into empty spots, waiting for him to join you. 

“C’mon, cupcake. Take a seat, we have a couple of hours before Powder comes and finds us.”

“She— she knows about this place?” His eyebrows pinch, worry overtaking him. The last time she found out about it, she blew it up. He remembers holding the scarps of the cushions, the singed papers that burnt away with the second round of bombs. 

“Well, yeah,” You laugh. “She’s the one who gave us the extra materials. You need to rest, c’m’here.” Patting the seat, he glances around, eyes scanning for bombs because that’s second nature at this point. He only finds his sketches and your hobbies lying around. It’s still your safe haven. 

He settles into the brown seat, your hand wrapping around his shoulder almost immediately and pushing his head onto your shoulder. 

“You still have that headache, Ko?” His eyes close as your nails trail up his fade, the small hairs dancing across your fingers. It feels good, his shoulders relax a bit and he nods, his nose nuzzling into your neck as he sighs. Even here you still smell the same. “I’ll dim the lights for you.” Your free hand reaches up above you, finding the handle that turns the light off and you turn it. He hears it crank twice as the lights lower. 

“Thank you,” He whispers. Your hand trails higher, catching on his hair tie before you pull it off. The white hair falls, sliding off of his head and dangling around his ears. He feels them moving but more so, he feels how you message his temple before lying down, taking him with you. On the way down, he feels your lips against his and he opens his eyes, his chest rising and falling like he’s just run a marathon. 

He stares at you, his chin resting on your sternum while you smile down at him. 

“You seem shocked.” You hum, still rubbing his head. 

“I’m just… I had a really vivid dream. I guess I forgot about this… us,” Again, his eyebrows pinch and you smile, tucking his hair behind his ear. 

“I’ll be happy to talk about us to you.” You offer. “We’re my favorite story.” 

“Yeah,” He nods. “Mine too.”

[rosiesareblu]

choso has you in the meanest mating press, knees pressed to your chest and the most lewd expression on your face. choso just keeps bullying his cock in you. a mix of yours and his spent sullying the sheets below you both. mind blanking and whirring in pleasure. you’re barely pushing his shoulders, shaking from how sensitive you were, but he just presses his hips harder against yours whining, “no no baby please, y’told me i could fill you up, ‘m gon’ make you feel s’good, mhm?”

he’s whining and gripping your thighs so hard, you think it might just leave some nasty bruises but he really can’t help it. he just feels so good, you feel so good. he digs his face into your neck, his panting breaths roll down your skin as he grinds his cock into you. “‘m gonna cum fuck please—“ he’s babbling and almost crying from how good you make him feel. “hngg— you feel— fuck! feel so good, baby— y’feel so good— fuck please!” at this point choso doesn’t even know why he’s saying please, its as if he’s asking for mercy for how good he feels. it’s too much.

with how sensitive you are, you try pushing his shoulders back, wanting a break from his cock abusing its way into you. “choso— mm, please, can’t—!”

“no! you can, baby, please—“ he sobs, “please, one more!” his hands move to your hands gripping his shoulders, he holds them in place above your head and snaps his hips harder, letting out a choked moan as your walls try to push him out from how much you’re clenching.

you turn your head to the side, burying it in the pillow below you as your mind goes hazy from the pleasure, feeling that familiar warmth spreading in your abdomen. but choso doesn’t seem to like that as he leans into you and nudges your head to face him.

“look at me, baby, please.” he pants, his hips snapping against yours in a sloppy rhythm. “need t’see you when you cum.”

tears well into your eyes as you try to keep your half-lidded eyes trained onto his. you squirm around as you feel that tight coil in your stomach. “mm— choso— oh fuck, please. gon’ cum.”

“mhm, cum for me baby, yeah?” he moans out, pressing your lower stomach down with his free hand. it makes you thrash around as his tip hits that spot, gasping as your orgasm hits you like a train.

choso growls as he slots his lips on to yours and slides his tongue in your mouth. you cry out as you try to push him away. wanting to breath, but with the way he’s pushing his cock deeper, chasing his high, and shoving his tongue down your throat, your already fuzzy head turns woozy as you’re deprived of oxygen.

you turn your head away, gasping for air. choso whines at the loss of your lips and chases after you. “mphh— no no wait baby one more kiss,” his tongue slipping into your mouth once more, groaning at your pathetic whines. he lets out a final whine as he spills into you, fucking you well and slowly losing pace to a stop as he sits inside your walls.

he pulls away and stares as you gasp out for air, letting out a grunt of pleasure as you shake. he runs his hands on your thighs, to your stomach, satisfied with how much he’s filled you.

he rubs his thumb against your tummy as he pushes it slightly making you jump and push his hands away at the over sensitivity of it all.

“shh baby you’re ok.” he breathes out, rubbing at your skin as you come down from your high. he hums softly as he moves you to your side and holds you in his arms, making sure he sits right inside you still.

“my baby, was s’good.” choso mutters as he kisses your head, his fingers massaging the back of your head gently. you nuzzle against his chest as you let out a sigh of satisfaction.

choso silently rubs your back as your tired eyes close and you slowly drift to sleep. his eyes drag over your face, then down to your stomach where he splays his hand over it.

he really could never get enough of filling your cute cunt up.

————————

alright that’s that for my annual post LOL do what yall wanna do with this one, chat. i’ll see you in the next one or something ✌️

[hedgehogsaretheultimatelifeform]

More?

I edited this on my phone so sorry if there’s any mistakes

He ducked his head down, and you swore you could see a blush creeping up around his eyes, the only skin you can see thanks to the mask. “Not here. We’re in public.”

“I know. Come back to my place, and show me.”

“I… can’t leave my guys, I’m out with them…”

“Where?”

He furtively glanced over his shoulder, then pointed. “Over there, at the table in the corner.”

“Okay. I’ll just go have a word with them.”

“Wait-!”He reached out to stop you as you stand up. You took this as an opportunity to grab his hand and pull him off the barstool, forcing him to trail along behind you as you made a beeline for the table he pointed out.

The three men sat there looked up curiously as you approached, knowing that you’re heading for them, as you have Simon in tow. One of them, the oldest looking thanks to his beard, opened his mouth as you stood at the table edge, until you held up a finger.

“I’m taking him home with me.” You tighten your grip on Simon’s hand, making sure he makes eye contact with them from where he’s stood behind you. “Don’t wait up.”

Then, you turned and walked away, not waiting for their reply, tugging Simon along with you as you headed for the exit door.

“That was… that was cool.” Simon said you as you both exit the bar onto the street, a smile spreading across your face as he grips your hand back for the first time.

“Really?”

“Yeah. I mean… they’re all going to be sitting back there, asking how the hell I was the one to get so lucky.”

“If you think you’ve won by landing me, you can say it without putting words in other’s mouths.”

“No, seriously. Johnny’ll be all,” he cleared his throat, coating his next words with a half passing scottish accent, “how does he land that by just walking up and staring at them?”

You laughed, leaning your body against his side, arms knocking together awkwardly as you lead the way back to your place. “I’ll be needing to have words with Johnny, then. You paid the right kind of compliment, and listened to me talk.”

He chuckled lightly, and you were sure that if you had better light than the dull orange street lights, you’d be able to see him blushing again.

As you approach your building, you moved half a step ahead of Simon, pushing the door open and leading him up the stairs to your apartment, all the way up on the eighth floor. You opened your door, in all its peeling red paint glory, and let Simon inside, swearing under your breath when the door gets stuck again when you try to close it.

“Let me.” Simon leant over you, placing his palm against the door and shoving, the traitorous thing giving way so he could close it with ease. He turned the keys to lock it, before turning and presenting the jangling collection of keychains back to you. You chuckled and hung them on the hook before taking his hand again, and tugging him towards your bedroom.

“Get that jumper off, now, yeah?” You tugged at the cuff with your fingers, slowing to a stop and smiling as you watched him reach up and drag the hoodie up over his shoulders, dropping it to the floor and shaking his head. Blonde hair flopped back and forth across his brow with the movement, your eyes widening as you realised that mask he’d been wearing had gotten caught up with it. You reached out and cupped his chin, tilting his head up to face you. “Of course you’re pretty too.”

He chuckled, already blushing again as he reached up and tugged his shirt off too, revealing the top of his tattoo sleeve, how the flaming skulls and guns continued to run up over his skin, trailing your fingers over it as you pushed him back by his shoulders, going right into your bedroom.

“Nice stuff.” You shove him back so the back of his knees hit your bed, making your intent clear if you hadn’t already, only turning away long enough to snap your lamp on before, finally, moving your eyes to his chest. He had some other tattoos beside the sleeve, smaller, older looking ones that seemed to follow the same military style as each other, until you looked at the one that swirled out above his heart.

“Yeah.” He saw where you were looking as he sat down on your bed, looking up at you as he brought a hand up to it, almost unconsciously. “That’s my newest one.”

He said, but you could tell that it was already several years old, by your make. Definitely newer than the sleeves, though, and in a very different style.

“Did you get it for someone?”

He nodded, pressing his fingers against it, his eyes darting away from yours. “My family. My mum, my brother, his wife and kid. I lost them… few years ago.”

“Fuck… I’m sorry.” You gently sat next to him, moving your gaze away from it. That’s one way to kill a mood. Asking about a guys dead family.

“Have got anything like that?” He murmured, to fill the silence.

You reached up and tugged the collar of your shirt down, tapping the ribbon that was drawn to look like it dipped beneath your skin and wrapped around your collar bone. “Lost a good friend of mine. It was supposed to be matching, but he… never got it done.”

The story spills out of your lips almost before you could stop it. You’d never actually told anyone what it had meant before. Maybe, it was only out of obligation, because he’d told you about his. Or, you just finally needed to tell it to someone, and in that moment had found someone who would get it.

“Damn. Asshole move, that.”

You laughed, leaning against his side as he locked his arm around your shoulder. “Glad someone said it. Can’t badmouth a dead guy… or demand that he pay the cost of you covering it.” You chuckled, letting go of your collar again.

“Any other good ones?” You tilted your head up at his question, and caught Simon spying down the gap of your shirt.

“Less depressing ones, you mean?” You undid your shirt, tossing it off and unsnapping your bra as you shuffled back up your bed. “Take a look.”

He followed you eagerly, trying and failing to keep his eyes on your ink rather than your boobs. “I take it you like snakes? I got… one, two, three… four, five…”

He counted, tapping each of the snakes he found on your skin.

“Huh. Never thought about it. Guess i do…” You giggled as his fingers brushed over your side, counting snake number fourteen.

“Ticklish?”

“If you still want to land tonight, no.”

“Noted.” He withdrew his hand, biting his lip as he stared at your tits, moving slowly up and down ever so slightly as you breathed. “Doesn’t it hurt? Getting it done there?”

“Oh for sure. But, you only have to do it once.” You sigh, shifting up as you kick your jeans off too, leaving you in just your knickers, revealing your legs too. “Besides, I thought my thighs were way worse.”

He nodded slowly, only half listening as he trailed a hand down one of your thighs, rolling the skin over as he found your last free real estate. “Run out of ideas?”

“Yeah.” You sigh, rolling the leg up into his touch as he inspects the blank space, his fingers catching against your panty line.

“I don’t have any one my legs, yet.” He mused, flicking his fingers up under the elastic and tugging on the seam, pulling the material tight against your skin.

“Really? Prove it.” You sit back, drawing your legs up to your chest, hiding your nudity from him, smiling as you watched him grumble and shuck his jeans off, boxers along with it, as he spread his pale, muscly legs in front of you, cock bobbing between them.

“Damn…” you murmured. “Lots of real estate there, huh?”

“Sure.” He shivered, shuffling closer to you. “Maybe, we solve two birds with one stone. Get something matching.”

You chuckled, kicking your legs out again and tucking yourself forward between his legs, eyeing his thick cock. “Or we could fuck.”

He nodded. “Or that.”

“Come here.” You reached out, and he leant into your arms, curling up against you as you kissed him, wrapping your arms around his neck as you tasted the remnants of whiskey on his lips and tongue when it darted in between your teeth, dragging you into his lap.

His dick rubbed against the front of your underwear, a groan leaving his lips as you felt his hand dip beneath the elastic again, pulling on it harder than he had before, as he leant back.

“Do you like these?”

“Uh…” you shook your head and looked down at them. “Dunno? They’re fine, i suppose.”

“You won’t miss them then?”

“Sure, no.” You said, then gasped, clutching at the back of his neck as he promptly tore them off you, first at the left side, then the right before he tugged the scrap of material out from between your legs and tossing it aside.

Simon pried your arms from around his head, using your shock to drop you back to the bed, freeing up his hand so he could dip his fingers in between your legs, sighing as he found your clit and pinched it.

You shivered under his hands, head spinning from how fast he’d turned the tables on you. Simon was just surprised that he wasn’t the one shaking, that bis hands weren’t trembling as he brushed them over your skin, marvelling at the stark difference between his skin, and the heavily inked one beneath it, covered in snakes, flowers, a misshapen platypus, a racoon with a gun, a dragon sleeping on a mound of gold, among so many more.

“Oi… what you’re waiting for?” You murmured, gazing up at him.

“Oh… sorry.” He smiled, reaching down for one of your legs, locking one hand under your knee and folding your leg up against your body, quickly followed by the other one as he slid his dick between your folds, finding your cunt and sinking his dick straight into it.

The movement punching the breath from your throat as your back arched, the tension quickly dropping as you felt like you went boneless as Simon relentlessly fucked his cock into you, gently rubbing his thumbs over your skin where he was holding your legs up as he shushed you, only letting you lower your legs when his hips were settled against your ass, and you were indescribably full of cock. He smiled you and you, rubbing his thumb over your cheek as your brain tried to describe it anyway, to put into rational terms the explanation as to how you’d ended up here, and not on top.

“Where… where’s this come from?” You gasped out, hips bucking as your cunt squeezing tight around him.

“What?” He leant down over you, jostling his dick inside you. “Where’d what come from?”

“This!” You hit his shoulder, groaning as he leant down again, the blunt shape of his abs putting a tiny bit of pressure on your clit as it got trapped between your bodies. “You coming up to me, all shy and awkward, then you pull… this!”

Simon chuckled, eyes sparkling even in the dim light as he leant down even further, laying his body on top of yours sp he could kiss you, gently hushing you, nudging his nose against your cheek. “Im not good at introductions.”

You laughed, then gasped as he rolled his hips slightly, hands coming up to clutch at his arms. “Then… it’s good that you’re good at everything else.”

“I’ll say.” He murmured back, kissing you again. “You comfy?”

You nodded. “But happy to be… less.”

“Like it rough then?”

“I can take it.”

“I’ll take your word for it, love.” He leant close to your ear. “Don’t want to hear you complaining, though.”

“You won’t.” You lock your hands around his arms, digging your fingers into his skin.

“Good.” He chuckled back and sat back up, tucking himself up on his knees, raising your hips up with him, the change making you gasp before the slow backwards drag of his hips made you whine. You’d been so full, you didn’t know what you would do if you weren’t, so you tried to lock your legs around his hips and keep him inside of you, but it did nothing. His hips were pure muscle, and they were fucking his cock in and out of you like a he was a machine designed for it, up to and including his soft smile as he stared down at you, watching you fall apart around his dick, clenching and moaning, cumming, barely able to keep your eyes open, vision blurring as you stared up at the man above you, his hair glowing in the lamplight as the bed creaked violently beneath you, almost certainly pissing off your neighbours, even as it masked the sound his cock and your cunt were making. It didn’t do anything for the sound of his skin meeting your skin, so it was sure to be an awkward conversation with them too, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care in that moment. Any embarrassment you could have felt was being washed away by giddy joy at the man you’d found, the one currently fucking you as hard as he could, the one that had lost his shy streak at just the right time to fuck you stupid, shaking your grip off one of his arms so he could drag his fingers down over your skin again, on a quest to find your clit and scientifically determine the best angle to rub it at, sending your mind white with pleasure, shaking and curling under his touch, cumming hard again as he chuckled over you, only relenting when you swung your arm, your hand pathetically colliding with his side, a tear rolling down your cheek as he leant down and kissed you, grunting as he came inside you, making the one bit of clarity you had left thank god for birth control as you locked your arms around his neck, keeping him close to you as he pulled out of you and rolled to the side, panting heavily.

You lay your head on his chest, as he kept his hand cupped over your cunt so you leaked onto him and not your sheets, a mournful look coming over his face as you cuddled up to his side.

“I don’t think I’ll be able to stay long.” He mumbled, tilting his head up as he looked for a clock.

“It’s alright.” You patted his side, already yawning. “You just stay as long as you can.”

He’d stayed for ten bloody years. And counting, given that he’d married you. Eventually. Even got that tattoo you’d talked about the first night you’d met. Flowers and skulls, matching yours, flowing down his thigh, out from his boxers as he stood at the stove, frying bacon. You were lying on the sofa still trying to catch your breath from how he’d fucked you seven ways to Sunday, and he was already up, showered and cooking bacon for you. You shook your head, shifting the cushion behind your head. Thank god he was shit at introductions. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be here.

Ghost introducing himself to a heavily tattooed reader by just sitting down next to them and saying, ‘I’m Simon. I like your tattoos.’

He gives absolutely zero further interaction, just staring at the reader’s ink until they start explains what each one means, pointing out the little details for him to admire.

Ghost who panics when the reader asks if he has any tats of his own, worried that you’ll think his stuff is dumb, cliche military shit. With enough bugging, he’ll push his sleeves up and let the reader gush over him too, his brain freezing again when they poke his chest and ask to see the rest, too.

[puckinghischier]

quinn eating you out after you come home from a long day, letting you use him as stress relief

you had been tense from the stress of your workplace all day, your muscles aching all over your body. you were tired, overworked, and ready for a glass of wine and trashy tv.

when quinn saw your state, though? he knew exactly what you needed. he ran you a hot bath—which he joined, of course—rubbing soothing circles into your tight muscles in the warm water. the bath quickly turns into a shower so you can actually feel clean, but quinn won’t allow you to lift a finger. he lathers soap onto your body and massages the products into your hair, nearly lulling you to sleep standing up.

he wraps your body in a fluffy towel as you step out of the warm stream of water, drying your body gently before working on his own. walking into the bedroom to get a fresh set of pajamas, quinn comes up behind you and stops you before you can get the drawer open.

“uh-uh. no clothes yet,” he tsks, pushing your hand away. you look up at him confused.

“quinn, i’m wet and cold, why can’t i get dressed yet? you’re dressed,” you point out his plaid pajama pants, appreciating the lack of a shirt, though.

he smirks at you, grabbing your hands, walking backwards while leading you towards the bed.

“because, your stress free evening isn’t over,” he lets himself fall onto the end of the bed in a sitting position, looking up at you while wiggling the towel off of your body.

once the fabric is on the floor, quinn admires your body standing bare in front of him. he sees the layer of goose-bumps on your skin from the chilly air of the apartment, your taut nipples staring right at him. he reaches around you to take a handfuls of your ass, pushing you towards him.

you instinctively separate your legs to stand on either side of his thighs, feeling his chin graze the skin right above your belly-button. soft, warm puffs of air from his nose hit your cold skin, causing the muscles there to twitch. you look down at him, seeing his soft, grey eyes looking back up at you. a small smile breaks out on his face, the weight of his chin no longer felt on your body as he pulls back barely an inch.

before you can miss the contact, you watch as he touches his lips to the skin, eyes still looking brightly up at you. you toss your head back as you sigh, the feeling of his warm tongue coming out to tease along with the movement of his lips sending shivers through your spine.

you bring your hands up to rest in his unruly curls, their damp softness providing just enough to ground you, worried you’ll float away as he goes from open-mouth kisses to fully just licking your skin.

still looking up at you, even though he can’t see your face, he licks a stripe up and down, from above your navel to dangerously low territory. when you feel his tongue dip to the very bottom of your stomach, your head flies up with a gasp.

you’re met with the sight of quinn smirking up at you, clearly pleased with the reaction. “s’it working?” he asks you, still kneading the flesh of your ass.

“mmmm don’t know, still feel a little stressed,” you respond with a teasing smile, taking your hand and pushing the hair off of his forehead, bringing your hand to rest on the back of his head.

quinn’s shoulders shake lightly, his forehead leaning forward to rest against your stomach now, his hair tickling the sensitive area as he shakes his head back and forth. he pulls back to look up at you once again, eyes bright with amusement.

“well, guess we’ll have to get straight to it then,” he lightly taps your ass, removing his hands as he lays back, now flat on the bed in front of you.

you stand there and stare at him, not sure what he’s doing. his feet are still planted to the floor, his arms now extended at the elbow, hands clasped together to cradle his head as they lays on them. it’s your turn to admire his body. you’ve always loved the tone nature of his abdomen, but loved the fact there’s still somehow a softness to it at the same time even more. you watch the rise and fall of his even, steady breaths, lost in a near trance-like state.

he lifts his head up only enough to look at you, the rest of his body planted firmly against the mattress.

“well…are you gonna come get your stress relief or not?” he asks you, gesturing to his face, then letting his arms drop by his sides.

your stomach jumps at the realization of what he’s insinuating. he watches the fire in your eyes ignite, his lips once again curling into a smirk.

you waste no time crawling onto the bed, resting your knees on either side of his head, lining yourself up to his mouth perfectly.

you hear him take a deep inhale, your scent always driving him crazy.

looking down at him for permission to alleviate the small burn starting in your thighs, you find he’s not even look at your face. his stare is held on your slick core, licking his lips like he’s at an all you can eat. which, in his eyes, he is.

“ready?” you ask him, missing his warm mouth already.

his eyes snap to your face. “stress reliever, at your service,” he responds, not waiting for you to lower yourself to him. with his hands on your ass again, he pushes you down as he raises his head up, wasting no time in burying himself in your folds.

you cry out, his tongue ferociously lapping and sucking at your clit, his large hands massaging your ass once again.

the quick pace of his tongue stuns you to stillness, not realizing you hadn’t moved until quinn starts rocking your body back and forth for you. he slides his tongue up and down your cunt as he did your stomach earlier, his nose bumping and rubbing against your clit deliciously.

your soft pants and his slurping are the only two sounds to be heard in the room, until quinn lets out a low growl as you start grinding down on his face harder.

the vibrations cause a jolt to run through your core, your body leaning forward just enough for his tongue to tease your entrance.

“scoot. up more,” he mumbles against you, guiding you by your ass right where he wanted you.

the feeling of his tongue sliding inside of you draws out a high pitched yelp. he stabs the muscle in and out harshly, loving the feeling of your walls sucking him in as he laps up every drop of your sweetness.

you bring your hands up to toy with your hard nipples, needing to occupy yourself with something before you lose your mind.

you ride his tongue as he continues to grunt and growl into you, feeling every twitch and flick of the thick muscle.

the added stimulation to the sensitive buds on your chest has your release growing faster than you can keep up with. it’s like someone’s blowing up a balloon inside of you, the pressure building and building until it finally-

“quinn!” you cry out, the graze of his teeth against your sensitive flesh being the needle that popped the balloon.

your whole body is bathed in warmth, limbs shaking as he doesn’t let his pace falter, still bringing your body down farther onto his now slick face, making sure not a drop of your honey goes anywhere except his awaiting tongue.

you start to come down from your high, attempting to slow the steady rock of your body, but quinn pushes against your efforts. he keeps your momentum going, tongue still exploring every inch of your now swollen pussy.

“q, i-“ you hiss at the sensitivity, not being able to finish your sentence because of the quick work his tongue is swirling onto your clit.

“one more…you’ve got one more in you, i can feel it,” he commands up into you, going back to work the second the words are out of his mouth.

your whine, already feeling the swirl of another orgasm approaching.

quinn’s assault is only getting more aggressive, now fully nipping at your folds, each little pinch another tick closer to your release.

“close, quinny, so close,” you tell him, breathlessly.

his tongue enters you once again, this time staying buried there, grazing every surface it can find. he brings a hand around to toy with your clit while his tongue is otherwise occupied, opting for small pats instead of fast circles.

the dull, repetitive nature of the pats is what has your second orgasm of the night bursting out of you. you scream quinn’s name like a mantra, nothing else on your mind other than him.

he smirks through your orgasm this round, feeling your walls flutter around him, milking your sticky sweetness from your body like he’s the thirstiest man alive and you were a fresh spring.

after you recover from your second high, you take a few deep breaths, trying to remember how to control your limbs. when you manage to lift a knee off of the bed, quinn’s hand is flying up to force it back down, his tongue still swirling and flicking inside of you.

“quinn, i-i can’t. not-“ you whimper as he presses a finger against your clit and holds it there, applying a constant pressure. “not another one. can’t do it.”

quinn doesn’t let you surrender, however, the one hand still on your ass lifting and coming down in a harsh smack, the sound nearly lost in the symphony of squelches and moans.

he removes his tongue, and mouth, from you long enough to bark out a gruff “three’s the magic number. you’re not done until i say so,” before his tongue is buried in you for a third time tonight.

you almost fall forward, the sensitivity nearly crippling. your body surprises you, though. somehow, without your knowledge, your nerves are already winding up again, ready to explode any second.

between the now smacks on your clit—his soft pats long gone—and his tongue reaching as far into your entrance as possible, you don’t even know how or when, but suddenly your vision goes white and you feel nothing but what can be described as total and complete pleasure coursing throwing your veins.

quinn is shocked at how easy it was to pull your third release from you, feeling spurts of your sweet juices expel his tongue from your clenching core. he lets the drops glide down his throat, groaning at how amazing you always taste, but especially tonight.

you didn’t even know you screamed until you felt the scratch of your throat, the stars subsiding from your vision as you feel quinn’s tongue gently licking around you, cleaning up every last ounce of liquid from your spent cunt.

he decides you’ve had enough, finally releasing your shaking thighs, letting you lift one over his head and fall back onto the bed to lay beside of him. he turns over onto his side to look at you, always enjoying how pretty you look after an orgasm, much less three.

the rapid rise and fall of your chest starts to slow as you fully come down from the whole experience, turning your head to look at him.

your eyes widen at the sight in front of you.

his face is quite literally dripping with your release. his nose, his mouth, his chin are all covered with your slick juices. he’s leaning on one arm, while the other is being used to ‘clean’ his face.

and by ‘cleaning’ you mean he’s taking a finger across the wet areas, collecting the moisture on his finger before licking it clean and repeating the process.

when he notices you looking over at him, his actions cease and he smiles down at your fucked out state.

“so….you still stressed?”

[msfantasy-anime]

PDA

Various BNHA x Softgirl!Reader

Summary: a short headcannon on Y/n who is usually shy, expressing PDA to her boyfriend.

You don’t even know them, but as you stand in your friends house party, you couldn’t help but watch a young couple, where the woman is smiling so sweetly up at her boyfriend, as he returns his loving gaze. The two continue to embrace each-other as he lightly grazes her lower back. So enraptured by each other, they clearly have detached from reality as they are lost in each others arms. The sea of people continue to move around them, but the couple pay no mind to the social chaos around them. They are lost in each others eyes, silently conversing their emotions wordlessly.

The intensity of their passions leave you longing. Why don’t you have that with you boyfriend?

You wished greatly that someone in the crowd would look at you and your boyfriend, and see your love so vividly.

You and your boyfriend have been dating for years at this point and people still ask if your dating or act surprise to hear your still going strong.

A pang of longing hits your heart.

You yearn deeply to feel and show off that level of passion. But what’s preventing you?

In a moment of inebriated courage, your on a mission to find your boyfriend. There you spot him standing amongst a circle of men, conversing.

Walking up behind your boyfriend and tugging at the elbow of his jacket.

Seeing your determined eyes, he tilts his head down, moving his ear closer to hear you better. But instead of uttering a single word, your rock onto your toes and press your lips to his cold cheek. Making him…

Izuku Midoriya

Blush and chuckles from your unexpected affection.

He’s not embarrassed, and he pays no mind to anyone else at this moment.

His darling girlfriend is giving him PDA, something she’s never initiated.

And something Izuku made sure never to do, as to not put you in an uncomfortable position.

But right now, looking down at your cute face filled with glaring determination.

His heart can’t help but swell at your unyielding cuteness.

Izuku: “Do you feel like going?”

Katsuki Bakugo

He looks at you expressionless.

His lips parted as he holds a hand to his recently kissed cheek.

His mind goes blank before a flood of thoughts swirl through his head.

Furiously blushing Katsuki turns as red as a street light.

Katsuki: “Eh-what the hell was that for?!”

He’s acting as if you slapped him.

His embarrassment radiating off him.

Why the hell are you going around kissing him in public for?!

Katsuki: “Come ‘ere brat, you and I are gonna have a talk about public decency!”

He proceeds to lecture you outside of the house, where there are no prying ears.

Katsuki: “Damnit brat! You can’t going around kissing me in front of these losers! That’s private, ya’know.”

Eijiro Kirishima

Smile softly at your sweet gesture.

You’ve always been shy about PDA with him, so he’s a little caught off guard by your actions.

Kirishima: “Common- let’s go home yeah?”

Shota Aizawa

Continue standing there indifferently.

He take another slurp of his drink as he looks down at you watching your face distort from determination to reassignment.

His silly girlfriend is looking so cute.

He’s kinda curious to know what this was all about… but then again… he wants to see what else you’ll do.

Hizashi Yamada

Shout in surprise.

Hizashi: “WOW!”

Hizashi’s very vocal reaction causes a few to break conversation and look over to the two of you to see what’s going on.

You immediately regret everything as Hizashi begins to loudly praise your cuteness.

[uhbambii]

Sweet as Frosting

The Dellamorte villa was alive with warmth and laughter. The golden light of the kitchen illuminated the flour-dusted counter, where Rook stirred a bowl of batter with a bit more enthusiasm than technique. Her hair was tied loosely back, strands already falling free to frame her flushed cheeks.

Lucanis Dellamorte leaned against the counter beside her, his dark eyes brimming with quiet amusement. He was dressed in casual crow attire, nonetheless a bit intimidating to outsiders, though the frosting smudged across his sleeves made him look just a little less intimidating than usual.

“You know,” he drawled, his voice smooth and laced with mischief, “if you whisk any harder, the bowl might retaliate.”

Rook shot him a look, one brow arched. “I’m trying to make this perfect. You’re the one who insisted on cake instead of pie, so…” She trailed off, gesturing to the mess of ingredients around them.

Lucanis smirked. “Don’t blame me for your ambitious standards, tesoro. You’re the one who said you wanted to impress me.”

“Impress you?” Rook laughed, pausing to flick a pinch of flour at him. “Amorino, I think you’re already impressed enough.”

He tilted his head, watching her intently as though agreeing with that sentiment entirely. Then, without warning, he reached into the nearby frosting bowl, scooping a bit onto his finger and dabbing it across her nose.

“Lucanis!” she yelped, dropping the whisk and swiping at her face.

He was already laughing, the low sound resonating deep in his chest as he stepped back. “You’re much cuter when you’re messy, you know.”

“Oh, you’re asking for it now.”

Rook grabbed a handful of flour and flung it at him, hitting his dark shirt square in the chest. Lucanis stopped short, glancing down at the pale smudge on his otherwise pristine attire.

“You’re going to regret that,” he said, his voice low and teasing.

But Rook wasn’t waiting for his retaliation. She darted around the counter, laughing as Lucanis chased after her with a determined gleam in his eye. They ended up tangled in a playful scuffle, smearing frosting and flour on each other’s faces and hands as they stole kisses in between bursts of laughter.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

The cake batter was forgotten for a while, though neither seemed to mind.

It wasn’t until much later, after the cake was baked and half-decorated, and Rook was perched on the countertop with Lucanis standing between her legs, their foreheads pressed together, that she glanced at the clock on the wall.

Her heart sank. “Andraste’s ashes,” she muttered, pulling back.

Lucanis frowned, his brows knitting together. “What is it?”

“It’s one in the morning,” Rook said, sliding off the counter in a panic. “I was supposed to be home by eleven. Viago’s going to kill me.”

Lucanis caught her hand before she could rush away, his expression softening. “Stay,” he murmured, brushing his thumb over her knuckles. “I can smooth talk Viago tomorrow, save you some trouble.”

She sighed, torn between the warmth of his touch and the dread of her brother’s wrath. Finally, she leaned in, pressing a lingering kiss to his lips.

“You’re impossible,” she whispered against his mouth before pulling away.

“And yet, you keep coming back,” Lucanis said with a smirk, watching her gather her things.

Rook rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the smile that crept across her face. “I’ll see you soon. Try not to miss me too much.”

Lucanis chuckled, “try not to get scolded too much,” his gaze following her as she slipped out into the night.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

The De Riva villa was quiet as Rook climbed through the open window of her room, carefully lowering herself onto the floor. She thought she’d gotten away with it, until the light flicked on.

Rook froze, turning slowly to find Viago sitting in a chair by the door, his arms crossed and his dark eyes narrowed. He was still dressed, his usual sharp crow attire despite the late hour, though his expression betrayed his annoyance.

“You want to tell me where you’ve been all night?” he asked, his tone deceptively calm.

Rook scrambled for an excuse. “I was out with Teia,” she said quickly.

Another chair turned, and Teia spun into view with an equally unimpressed look. Her brown hair was loosely braided, and though her expression was softer than Viago’s, it was no less effective.

“Wanna try again?” Teia asked, arching a brow.

Rook winced. “I… was baking. At a friend’s place.”

“Baking,” Viago repeated, his tone flat. “Until one in the morning?”

“It’s… a very complicated recipe?” she offered weakly.

Teia exchanged a look with Viago, her lips twitching as though she were trying to suppress a laugh. Viago, however, didn’t seem amused.

“You know I don’t like it when you’re out this late,” he said, his voice softening slightly but still firm. “Anything could happen.”

Rook sighed, guilt creeping in. “I’m sorry, Vi. I lost track of time, that’s all. Nothing happened. I was perfectly safe at the Dellamorte villa.”

Viago’s brows furrowed, but his expression softened slightly. “Lucanis, huh?” He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. “Look, I’m not going to lecture you about seeing him. He’s… decent, as far as men like him go. Better than I expected, even. But, Rook—” His tone sharpened, the protective older brother coming through. “One in the morning? At his villa? What were you thinking?”

Teia gave him a small nudge, her tone gentler. “Vi, let her explain. She’s fine. Don’t make a scene.”

“I’m not making a scene,” Viago shot back, though his raised voice said otherwise.

Rook held up her hands, trying to de-escalate. “We were baking. Baking, Vi. I wasn’t sneaking off to plot assassinations or rile up the Antaam!”

“That’s not the point,” Viago said, standing now, his dark eyes locking onto hers. “The point is you said you’d be home by eleven. If you’re going to see Lucanis, or anyone for that matter, you don’t just vanish into the night like some teenager with no sense of responsibility.”

“Vanish?” Rook repeated, indignant. “I didn’t vanish, Viago. I was with someone you know and trust.”

“I trust him to keep his blades sharp and his secrets buried,” Viago said. “That doesn’t mean I trust him not to make a bad decision with my little sister.”

Teia sighed, cutting in before the argument could spiral further. “She’s not a child, Vi. She’s more than capable of holding her own. And it’s not like she’s going to take any nonsense from Lucanis or anyone else.” She turned to Rook with a wry smile. “But maybe let your brother know next time if you’re running late? He gets… dramatic when he’s worried.”

Rook couldn’t help but grin at Teia’s dry humor, though she turned back to Viago with a more serious expression. “I’m sorry, Vi. I didn’t mean to worry you. I just lost track of time, that’s all. It won’t happen again.”

Viago exhaled, the tension in his shoulders easing a fraction. “Good. Because if you keep sneaking back at this hour, I might start sending messages to Lucanis about curfews.”

Rook’s eyes widened. “You wouldn’t dare.”

His lips quirked into a sly smirk. “Try me.”

Teia snorted a laugh, nudging Viago toward the door. “Alright, that’s enough. She’s apologized. Let her sleep, papa corvo.”

Viago huffed but relented, though not without a final glance at Rook. “Just… take care of yourself, okay? And next time, send a message through a crow.”

As the door closed behind them, Rook sank onto her bed, letting out a breath of relief. Her brother could be a pain, but at least he wasn’t trying to put Lucanis on some sort of watchlist.

But the lecture was worth it, she thought with a smile, the memory of Lucanis’s flour-dusted grin still fresh in her mind.

———————————————————————————

I wanted to write something with a little bit of comic relief, sprinkled with a touch of protective older brother Viago (My headcanon for crow! Rook).

————————————————————————-

Inspo for story: @trialsofthedas

Rook: *sneaking in through their window after a night at the villa*

Viago: *turning in their chair and flicking the light on* You want to tell me where you've been all night?

Rook: I was out with Teia?

Teia: *turning in their chair* Wanna try again?

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

[wonsroyalty]

predictable, 박종성

pairing/warnings - 2.3k,, spider-man!jay x f!reader, college/uni students, switch!jay x switch!f reader,, smut, blood, wounding 🔥

a/n: no fancy theme because i’m writing this on a whim: inspired by this tiktok i saw earlier, no doubt mv has actually changed me and i loveeeeee jay so enjoy🤗

masterlist

You sat in your bedroom tapping your pen unconsciously at your desk.

“I need the report in for tomorrow, Yn. You’ve already had a week.”… You remembered the head of the school newsletter scolding you earlier.

How on earth did she think that you could gain access to the football team in order to ask them about their frat lifestyle AND write up everything from your seven-hour interview as a small section in such a short amount of time.

You thought back to your best friend Jay.

He’d always had a way with words and you knew that if he were with you he’d say something like, “Sunghoon said he’s ditching his playboy rep to focus on himself, weirdo because he literally threw himself at you during this interview, you can simplify it to ‘I’m a lame loser who doesn’t get any hoes because I fucked around and found out’, done!”

A giggle slipped from your lips at the thought of imaginary Jay but you quickly gained composure because the thought of having to pull an all nighter, in order to finish, didn’t seem appealing.

And the fact that Jay had turned down your plan of him helping you because he claimed he had “important business” whipped you into shape.

Ding!

7 messages from mother🐻

hey pumpkin!

i may be later than usual tonight

just been told to prep for emergency surgery

left your dinner in the oven to heat up

first aid kit above the front cabinet

don’t hurt yourself pls!!!

love you bye 🥰

You reacted with a heart and wished her luck then threw your phone onto your bed.

The upper half of your body slumped onto the desk.

“I’m so screwed.” you whispered in defeat.

Your phone then began to ring causing a loud groan to leave your throat as your body lugged itself to the source.

“Hey Jay, what’s up?” you sighed. “What do you want?”

“Open your window.” he panted out.

You could hear sirens in the background and Jay didn’t sound too good.

“Whats happening right now? Are you okay?”

“Open the window, please.” he begged. “Trust me, just open it!”

“I don’t trust you.” You joked. “Besides which one would I open, there’s three.”

Jay started shouting at someone on the other end of the line.

“Fuck!” he groaned in agony. “The- the one facing central park.”

“Uh.. okay. I just did it.”

“Step back! Like backkkk.” he warned.

“Moving back as I speak.” you sighed. “Is this the super important thing you had to do?”

You had spoken too soon.

A man precisely shot his body through the gap of your window then slammed it shut behind him and slumped onto the ground.

“Spider-man?! What the..” you stepped towards him tentatively. “Are you- wait Jay! Oh my, I think he’s hurt.”

You began to type out a message to the boy when Spider-man ripped his mask off.

“Jay Park?! You have got to be shitting me!” you gaped. “What the fuck?!”

Jay winced in pain as he shot a web at your jumper to pull you down towards him.

He’d pulled you off balance and while your legs straddled his hips, your hands fell onto the gaping wound in his abdomen.

“Stay down.” he whined. “Can’t let them see.”

“Them..?” you mouthed.

“I was in the middle of a fight.” he rolled his eyes. “Obviously.”

“We’re gonna talk about this later, I need to close that up.” you glared at him.

His head hit the wall behind him as he began to register the state he was in.

You crawled out of the room and ran over to the cabinet that your mother left the first aid in. Nimble fingers turning the oven and a timer on your way out so that Jay would have something to eat before he left.

If any other friend of yours were in this situation, you would’ve patched them up, scolded them and sent them on their way.

But with Jay, you always wanted to keep him around because you… liked him.

You had to stop yourself from checking him out when you got back to your room, he’d pulled his suit down to his hips, toned stomach on display.

“You sure you know what you’re doing..?” he frowned.

Instead of responding you shoved a piece of cloth into his mouth.

“Bite on it.”

Jay used his free hands to pull the cloth out. His hands reached into the box to grab a painkiller and swallow it dry.

“Ew.” you sneered. “I have water..”

He ignored you. “There’s nothing in the wound, I already checked.”

Taking alcohol, you cleaned the outside of the wound and prepped your synthetic polymer fibres.

As soon as the cool metal pierced Jay’s skin he began to squirm around.

His jaw flexed as he groaned out in pain.

“Please stop moving, Jay,” you begged. “It’s gonna hurt more if you keep moving.”

Despite your plea, he continued to twist and turn.

You groaned in frustration.

“Stop moving!”

The cloth was placed in his mouth again and you got up onto your knees to snatch the scarf that dangled off your bed frame.

Your hands grabbed his wrists and tied them behind his back, double knotting the scarf so that he wouldn’t move.

Jay thrashed around trying to rip out of the restraints.

“Okay, calm down, I’m starting again,��

You slowly but surely sutured the wound and wrapped his waist in a bandage.

Jay whimpered.

“Huh?” your head snapped up as you took the cloth out of his mouth.

Without missing a beat, he leaned forward and kissed you.

Your fingers automatically made their way into his hair as you licked along his bottom lip.

He opened his mouth and pressed his tongue flat against yours before fighting for dominance in your mouth.

You couldn’t get enough. Your lungs gasped for air as you continued to practically eat his face off.

Subconsciously you lowered your hips onto his, rolling to get friction from his semi hard on against your pulsing core.

“Fuck.” he whimpered. Again.

“Always whining,” you teased him. “Never thought you’d be such a bottom, Jongie.”

He ripped the scarf as he broke free from the restraints.

Now you were the one whining.

“All I did was rip the scarf and you’re already dripping into my lap, who’s the real bottom here?” he mocked you with a fake look of shock all over his face. “Always wanted to have you under me..”

His words had your hips rutting against his, pathetic moans leaving your throat.

“Do I even have to do anything or will you get off just like this?” he grinned, marking up your neck.

A faint beeping broke you out of your trance.

“AHHHH! THE OVEN!”

You got up immediately, ignoring the way your fuzzy cat pyjamas clung to your lower body, and ran to the kitchen.

Thankfully the food wasn’t burnt but you clutched your heart as Jay launched himself onto your waist.

“I meant to say thank you.” he whispered.

His fingers made their way to where you needed him most, circling your clit through the fabric.

“Yeah- right. You.. You’re welcome.” you moaned at the end of your sentence, the pressure building up.

“Is this okay..?” he asked.

“Yes.” you nodded.

Jay pulled away laughing at your protest.

“What do you want me to do?” he asked.

You kept your lips shut. There was no way in hell that you were gonna submit to him so easily.

“Come on, baby.” he stared down at you through half lidded eyes. “Tell me where you want me..”

You shook your head, stubbornness radiating off your body.

“Is it here?” Jay asked.

His fingers unbuttoned your shirt, gasping at your uncovered chest as he tugged at your nipples.

A loud whine left your lips.

“Sensitive.. I see.” he looked determined.

“I’m not.” you grumbled.

He grazed your left nipple with his teeth, fondling the other with his warm hand.

“Fuck.” you moaned as his wet tongue circled the sensitive spot.

“You’re not huh?” he shook his head at your lie.

“Jay please.” you whined, hips chasing his.

“Please what?” he leaned away.

You swallowed your pride for the sake of your pleasure.

“I need you.” you moaned. “Need your fingers inside me.”

Jay lowered his head as an overwhelming wave of pleasure hit his body. He always knew that he’d liked you, but those words sent him over the edge.

He needed to have you immediately.

“Say it again.” he growled.

Once his lust filled eyes made eye contact with yours, you clenched your legs together.

“I need you so bad, Jay.” you whined.

He manhandled your body onto the kitchen counter, ripping off your pyjama bottoms and underwear in one go.

His tongue licked a stripe up your dripping hole, collecting the slick that leaked out.

Jay closed his eyes, taking in the taste.

“You taste so fucking good.” he whined.

Without missing the chance to take advantage of his submissive state, you tugged at his hair.

“Fuck..” he moaned loudly.

“You’re so hot.” you whimpered.

Seeing him like this made you feel a certain way.

He eagerly embraced your clit with his tongue and shoved his fingers into your cunt. They scissored you open before curling into you at a rapid pace.

Your hips thrashed up, chasing your high, not even caring about the loud sounds leaving your mouth and lewd sounds coming from Jay.

“You close?” he asked between moans.

You nodded, unable to form proper sentences.

“You have to ask.” Jay firmly stood his ground.

“Jay, please. Please let me cum!” you pathetically begged.

“Okay, princess.” he nodded. “Come for me..”

The orgasm hit you like five trucks, it truly felt never ending as Jay helped you through it.

Once your body recovered, you jumped down onto shaky legs attacking Jay’s lips as you pushed him backwards.

He absentmindedly followed the direction, tripping backwards as his legs made contact with your bed.

“Close your eyes.”

Jay made himself comfortable, lying down with his eyes closed.

“Wait- what!” his eyes shot open.

You’d handcuffed him to the headboard.

“Now why do you have these..” he questioned.

“Was saving them for when you’d come around.” you whispered into his ear, sending shivers down his spine. “Now i’m gonna help you, with your little problem.”

You gestured to the way his cock painfully throbbed in the tight material of his suit.

“It’s not a little problem- Shit.”

He closed his eyes as you grabbed at his crotch.

You left kisses down his body, licking his abs before pulling the rest of his suit off.

His cock slapped up against his stomach causing him to moan loudly.

“How are you so wet..?” you questioned in awe, staring at him in disbelief.

“Stop staring at me..” he blushed.

“You weren’t lying about this not being a little problem.” you praised, licking a stripe along the underside. “You’re so big, so thick.”

Jay’s hips thrusted up, more precum leaking out.

“Please.. help me.” he cried.

“Don’t cry, baby,” you wiped away the tear that left his eye, babying him. “I’ll help you.”

Instead of sucking him off, you lowered your hips onto his dick.

Jay felt like he was going to explode.

“Fuck! You’re so tight,” he moaned.

The stretch had your eyes rolling back.

Hands falling onto his chest for support, you slowly found your own pace to bounce at.

“Please let me touch you..” he begged.

“No.” you scolded. “I’m going to go at my pace and you’re gonna get off this way.”

Tears were fully streaking down his face at this point.

His balls were heavy and tip throbbing, the sensation being too much for him to handle.

You continued to bounce on him, eyes closing at the pleasure of his thickness rubbing against your walls.

The moans leaving your throat increased in volume as slick gushed out of your pussy. The thought of using Jay had you excited.

Seeing you on top of him, using him for your own pleasure had Jay going insane.

He broke out of the handcuffs and flipped you onto your stomach.

“Fuck! Jay, right there!” you cried out in surprise.

His palms smacked at your ass, rapidly pushing you back onto his dick.

“Wait.. wait I wanna see your face when I cum.” he whined, flipping your body over.

Your legs rested on his shoulders as you cried at the newer, deeper angle.

His balls smacked against your ass as he slammed his hips against yours.

“Jay, I can’t,” you moaned.

“Yes you can.” he growled. “I’m so close.”

His hips began to falter before they stilled, shooting cum deep inside you.

You came right after him, his whines and moans setting you off.

Jay slumped onto your body, cradling your face with his hands.

“I like you so so much.” he confessed, kissing you sweetly.

“Well I think I’ve liked you for longer.” you laughed.

“If you say so.” he giggled, hugging your chest. “That was so good, I don’t think I’ll ever let you have anyone other than myself.”

“Same here.” you played with his hair. “WAIT FUCK MY PAPER!”

THE END.

~

bonus scene:

After getting cleaned up and eating (Jay forced you to) you sat on his lap at your desk, typing onto your desktop computer.

He read out the transcript and helped you summarise it into text.

“Sunghoon says that he’s ditching his playboy rep to focus on himself, weirdo because I remember him throwing himself at you during this interview hoping that you’d give him attention, you can simplify it to ‘I’m a lame ass bitch who doesn’t get any hoes’ he truly did fuck around and find out!”

You laughed at his words.

“I knew you’d say something like that.”

He snuggled up to your back.

“So I’m getting predictable now, huh…”

You shook your head. “Never..”

“Guess our date will have to be something you wouldn’t expect.”

He was right, you really didn’t expect lunch on top of Brooklyn Bridge.

[boypied]

PUT ME IN MY PLACE.

pairings: stepdad!soldier boy (ben) x male reader

summary: ben comes home after a long hard day and catches his slutty stepson walking around in barely any clothes so he decides to punish him.

requested by: anonymous

word count: 935

warnings: smut, face slapping, daddy kink, humillation and super soldier boy special fuck, muscle adoration, stepdad x stepson sex.

Ben takes a deep sigh as he steps inside the warmth of his home, closing the door behind him. He places his heavy bags by the doorway and walks down the hallway into the kitchen, "honey! You home?" He calls out to his wife as he steps into the empty kitchen. "Hello?" He calls out again as he searches around the house, and he opens up your bedroom door seeing you staring at yourself in the mirror, showing off your body. "You're such a faggot" Ben says out loud to you as he leans against your doorframe watching the way your body sways back and forth, he watches the way your tiny shorts hug your ass. You turn around to meet his face, "and you're a shit stepdad," you say with a smug look on your face as you turn back to face yourself in the mirror.

"fucking prick" you mumble under your breath as you admire your body in the mirror, Ben's eyes widen as he hears those words come out of your mouth. He slowly steps into your bedroom, getting closer to you. "What was that?" He says in an aggressive tone as he gets closer to you, you turn away from the mirror to face him again. "What?" You say annoyed that he's still here. "What the fuck did you just say?" He repeats himself as he grips your throat roughly causing your eyes to widen...but not in fear. "I said...fucking prick" you say, making sure to emphasise it so he understands what you've just said. With one hand on your throat and the other he brings up to strike across your face, causing you to let out a quiet moan of pleasure.

His eyes widen. "Did you just...moan?" He says slightly confused as he brings his face closer, his eyes dart down to see the bulge growing in your shorts. A small smirk grows on his face as he strikes you across the face again "h-harder" you mumble out almost in a whisper. "You want it harder?" He asks you softly, causing you to nod up and down. He strikes you across the face harder and more roughly, leaving a red hand imprint on your face. Ben grips the scruff of your neck and pushes your face into the sweat patch of him shirt. "Yeah, that's it. Sniff it, " Ben says as he throws his head as your tongue laps up his sweat. Ben aggressively pushes you against your bed, and he strips off his sweat covered shirt and grips your neck, and shoves your face against his hairy pits.

Your eyes flutter back, and your tongue slides out your mouth to taste his hairy pits. The musky smell was to die for, you continue to lap up his sweat causing your cock to leak so much pre-cum. "d-daddy!" You mumble out between sucking his pits, Ben rolls over on his back, and your tongue leaves his pits and immediately begins to run across his perfectly sculpted abs. "Look at how excited you are faggot" he says in a sultry tone as your hands run over each ab, your tongue sliding down the center of them right up to his pecs. "Mhm," you groan out as you lick the sweat off his abs over and over, licking him clean. "D-Daddy" you groan out in agonising pleasure as your rock hard cock is practically ripping through your shorts as you rub it against his leg.

Ben grips onto you and flips you onto your stomach, putting your ass up in the air. Ben grips onto the hem of your shorts and pulls them down and off your body, "fuck" he groans out as he reveals your jockstrap exposing your bare hairless hole. You bite your lip softly as you feel his hot air hit your hole, Ben spits directly onto your hole, lubing it up. Ben pulls down his jeans and he rubs the tip of his cock against your slick wet asshole. "Fuck. This boy-pussy is going to be so...tight!" He groans out as he slides his thick meaty cut cock inside your hole, feeling you tighten around his length entirely.

Ben pulls out completely and thrusts back in. He watches how his cock disappears inside your hole, he begins to pick up the pace and with each thrust your ass jiggles. He is completely mesmerised by the way your ass jiggles with the backshots he gives you, "fuck" he groans out as he fucks you harder and harder, he leans down against your back and his hand goes down and begins to jerk you off. Edging you closer and closer until you explode all over your creme coloured sheets, it doesn't take long before Ben follows after you and with a couple more thrusts he pulls out and jerks himself off till he finishes over your ass cheeks as you twerk it for him.

Ben pulls away from you and takes a picture of the sigh before him, his stepson ass up with cum shot all over your cheeks. "My best boy" he mumbles to himself as he throws his phone to the side and gently places a kiss on your cum covered ass cheek, "clean yourself up baby" he whispers to you as he walks out of your bedroom and into the bathroom where he hops in the shower to wash the sweat off of him. You use a towel to wipe the cum off your ass and you lay there staring up at your ceiling thinking about what just happened. You can't even hide your smirk any longer.

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[deliciousangelfestival]

You're The One - 4

Summary: A daughter uncovers the wild, untold story of how her parents’ marriage began—and it’s way better than any romance movie she’s ever watched.

Character: Husband!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Genre: Romance, Comedy

Words Count : 1,654

Chapter 1 , Chapter 2 , Chapter 3 , Chapter 4 , -

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Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

Present Day

“Nu-uh.” Bucky glanced at his watch. “She’ll be here any minute, and I need to get to the airport.”

“I’m coming with you!” Jade yelled, already bolting to her room to change.

“Why the sudden interest in coming along?” Bucky called after her.

“Because you won’t tell me the rest of the story, so I’ll ask Mom instead!” she shouted back.

Bucky froze for a moment, muttering under his breath, 'Well, shit.' Then he called out, “Her version will be way more dramatic!”

Jade popped her head out of her room, gasping with excitement. “I have to hear it from her now! Let’s go!”

After a long drive, the two finally arrived at the airport. Standing near the arrival gate, Bucky shifted impatiently while Jade scanned the crowd.

Finally, you appeared, wheeling your suitcase behind you.

“Mom!” Jade ran toward you, wrapping you in a tight hug.

You blinked, startled but touched. “Jade? I didn’t expect you to come along with your dad!”

Speaking of which, Bucky huffed quietly, clearly annoyed that he missed the chance to hug you first. Instead, he settled for a side hug, leaning in and murmuring, “Welcome home,” before grabbing your suitcase.

You smiled warmly and kissed his cheek. “Thanks.”

“I thought you’d be staying another week,” he said as the three of you began walking to the car.

“I wasn’t feeling great, and being sick abroad just made me more homesick,” you explained. As a game development director, you’d been away overseeing the final stages of a new project. It had been a long trip, and you were glad to be back.

Bucky asked, his voice laced with concern, "Are you alright, dear? Have you checked with the hospital? I'll call our doctor."

You shook your head gently, a soft smile playing on your lips. "No, babe. I've got the results, and everything's alright."

Relief washed over Bucky and Jade's faces. Bucky let out a sigh of relief, his shoulders relaxing. Jade, on the other hand, beamed with joy, her eyes sparkling with happiness.

“Mom,” Jade whispered conspiratorially in your ear. “Dad told me he kidnapped you from Clark Jordan.”

Your eyes widened in shock. “He did?” You turned to glare at Bucky, who rolled his eyes dramatically.

“Let’s just go home,” he grumbled, ignoring your laughter and Jade’s giggles.

On the way back, Jade couldn’t hold in her curiosity. “Mom, what happened next after Clark hit Dad?”

You smirked knowingly. “Oh, he told you about that part, huh?”

“Yup,” Jade said eagerly, leaning forward in her seat.

You shook your head, chuckling as the memory came back. “Well...”

🔔💍🔔💍

Flashback

Clark arrived at the location in a rush, his wedding suit slightly disheveled, the jacket discarded in his haste. His tie hung loose around his neck, and his face was etched with determination. He’d come as soon as he could after getting the tip-off about your whereabouts.

Bursting onto the scene, he froze when he saw you and Bucky. The two of you were arguing—your words sharp, your tone frustrated—but there was something unspoken between you. A connection Clark could sense but had never felt with you himself. It wasn’t just Bucky’s audacity that made him furious; it was the realization that something deeper existed between the two of you, something he would never have.

Without thinking, Clark lunged at Bucky, his fist connecting with his jaw. Bucky staggered back but quickly caught himself, his own eyes blazing with fury. He grabbed Clark by the shirt, stopping the second punch, and delivered one of his own in return.

“Stop it!” you yelled, stepping between them.

Both men froze, fists mid-air, their heavy breathing filling the tense silence. They glared at each other, neither saying a word, the tension crackling between them.

You felt a pang of fear—not for your physical safety, but for what might happen to Bucky. Clark wasn’t just a powerful man; his family had the connections to ruin someone’s life with a single phone call. You couldn’t let that happen.

“We should go back,” you said softly, your voice trembling.

Bucky flinched, his arm dropping to his side. He stared at you, stunned. “What?”

Clark took the opportunity to grab your arm gently, his grip firm but not harsh. “Let’s go.”

As he led you away, you couldn’t help but glance back over your shoulder. Bucky was still standing there, watching you. His expression was unreadable, but you couldn’t help the small flicker of disappointment in your chest. You’d hoped, even for a second, that he would stop you, but he didn’t move.

---

In the car, Clark broke the silence first. “Are you okay? Did he hurt you?” His voice was calm, but his worry was clear.

“No, he didn’t do anything,” you reassured him.

He let out a long sigh, relief washing over his face. “Thank God.”

You hesitated before speaking again. “Clark… about the wedding.”

He cut you off gently. “It’s alright.”

You blinked in surprise. Clark had always been kind and patient, but this… this was different. He seemed far too calm for someone whose fiancée had just been kidnapped.

“You must have been terrified,” he continued, his gaze focused on the road. “Out of the blue, someone takes you away. My heart nearly stopped.”

“I’m fine,” you said softly. “He wouldn’t hurt me.”

Clark’s knuckles tightened on the steering wheel. “I’m getting a restraining order. He won’t come near you again.”

“It’s not that simple,” you said quickly, but he cut you off again.

“He kidnapped you, and you’re still not mad at him?” His voice was quiet but filled with hurt.

You flinched at his words.

“I knew you're a brave woman,” he said after a long pause. “I heard you went into a store with him. You could’ve screamed for help, but you didn’t.” He glanced at you briefly, his tone full of disbelief. “It seems like you were willing to go with him.”

Silence fell between you, the weight of his words pressing down.

Finally, Clark spoke again, his voice soft but resolute. “The wedding’s canceled.”

“What?” you whispered, taken aback.

“I realized something today,” he said, his tone calm yet firm. “You’re not the one for me.”

You stared at him, struggling to find the words.

“I saw the way you looked at him,” he continued. “The way you argued, the fire in your eyes. It’s something I’ve never had with you. He’s the one for you, not me.”

You couldn’t deny it. “I’m sorry,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

“I am too,” he said with a sad smile. “I thought maybe there was a chance for us. But it seems like you’re meant to be with someone else.”

“You’ll find someone who’s right for you,” you said softly, genuinely.

Before either of you could say more, a loud whirring sound filled the air. You both looked up to see a helicopter hovering above the car.

“What the hell?” Clark exclaimed as you saw the door open.

There, standing boldly with a megaphone in hand, was Bucky. “Stop! In the name of love!” he shouted.

“What the fuck!” you and Clark said in unison.

Clark pulled the car over as the helicopter landed in the middle of the road.

You turned to Bucky as he stepped out. “Seriously?”

Bucky shrugged, a grin tugging at his lips. “I had to make a grand entrance.” He extended his hand toward you.

You glanced at Clark apologetically. “I’m sorry.”

Clark nodded, his face pained but understanding. “Go. Before you make my heart bleed even more.”

You stepped out of the car, your heart pounding as you took Bucky’s hand. He helped you into the helicopter, securing your seatbelt and placing a headset over your ears.

As Bucky climbed in, Clark called out, his curiosity getting the better of him. “What exactly did you do? How did you even afford this?”

Bucky smirked. “I’m the owner of Bitcoin.”

Clark's jaw dropped. "You?!" He had invested some money in crypto and knew a bit about the Bitcoin story, particularly the anonymous creator's preference for secrecy. Could Bucky be the creator of this coin?

Bucky shrugged. “Yeah. I like to keep it low-key.”

Clark muttered to himself, still stunned. “Unbelievable.”

Bucky offered a hand in truce. “Hey, man. I’m sorry I ruined your day.”

“And I’ll hate you for it,” Clark said honestly, shaking his hand. “But at least everything’s clear now.”

Bucky nodded. “You’re a good guy. I hope you find someone who’s perfect for you.”

With that, he climbed into the helicopter and shut the door.

You turned to him, raising an eyebrow. “So, what now?”

“We finish your bucket list,” he said with a grin.

You sighed. “No, we don’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because someone will definitely stop us,” you said knowingly.

“Who?”

“My dad,” you said flatly.

Bucky’s face fell. “Oh, fuck.”

Present Day

“I feel bad for Clark,” Jade sniffled from the backseat, dabbing her eyes dramatically with a tissue.

Bucky groaned, gripping the steering wheel tighter. “Oh, come on. He’s fine. Stop acting like this is some soap opera.”

Jade ignored him, her phone in hand as she scrolled through a quick search. “Wait a minute—oh! Clark got married two years after you two. To his childhood friend! And they have… five kids?! Woah!”

Bucky raised an eyebrow but said nothing, keeping his focus on the road.

“At least he got his happy ending,” Jade murmured, her tone softening. Then her eyes sparkled with realization. “What about Grandpapa? How did Dad win him over?”

Your lips curved into a sly smile as you glanced at Bucky, who suddenly looked tense. “Let’s just say Clark was a beginner level, but your grandfather? He was the Grandmaster level boss.”

“Oh, great. I hate this part,” Bucky muttered under his breath, his face a mix of annoyance and dread.

Jade leaned forward, her curiosity piqued even more by her father’s reaction. “Tell me everything!” she pressed, her eyes gleaming with excitement.

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[heavenlyraindrops]

The Devil Made Me Do It | Arcane | Silco x Reader | Chapter One

also on AO3 and Quotev | visit the first tag to find other chapters | warnings: pre- s1 (for now), profanity, mentions of death and addiction

summary:

In the midst of an unfortunate run-in with the enforcers, you meet the young revolutionary Silco, and by extension, his friends Vander and Felicia. Growing close friends, you get through life in the undercity together, determined to make Zaun a better place. Until tragedy strikes, and betrayal and carelessness stabs hard enough to turn you bitter. Years later as time solidifies the scars, Silco proves to be a thorn in your side. You, in his. Hatred festers. And your world cracks further open.

Chapter One:

The undercity was certainly something.

Especially at night, when shadows extended their smoky tendrils to allow those dabbling in unsavoury business to lurk, gloomy buildings hiding things you’d be safer off not knowing within. People milling about, going about their private, dangerous business.

Water splashed across the street as your foot landed in a puddle, ankle twisting the wrong way as you tore through the filthy streets, enforcers hot on your heels. All this for heckling an officer? You clutched your shawl around you as the wind almost buffered it away.

It was ridiculous.

After bumping into a large man, a mother and her child, and knocking over a crate of sludge-y creatures, shouts trailing after you, you found an alleyway to disappear into. You scrambled up some wooden beams, eventually emerging onto the flat roof of the low, squatting building. You watched the idiotic Pilties run straight ahead, missing your small detour entirely, and scoffed, stepping away from the edge.

You turned, and made your way across the rooftops of Zaun. 

You’d reached an impasse. Well, not really- nothing a simple jump couldn’t fix. You squinted down into the dusty darkness of the narrow alley below your feet. This part of the undercity was silent- but you could hear the lapping water, and knew you were close to the river.

Vaulting over a concrete bar and pushing off with your feet, you landed on the other side of the gap with a thud. The roof shook, and you yelped as a tile slid off the edge, and crashed into the darkness.

Holding your breath, you heard nothing. The water continued to rumble. You turned to leave.

Until- 

“Fuck.”

You froze in horror. 

Creeping back towards the piped edge of the roof, weight on the backs of your feet, you peered into the darkness. The glowing end of a cigarette burned orange. You gulped.

A man emerged, stepping into your view. His brow was furrowed. Your hands were shaking. “I-I’m sorry!” You called out, and he scowled. 

“You nearly hit me!” He almost-yelled back. But taking a look at your face his expression softened. Against better judgement, you slid down the pipe, feet landing on the ground with an oof.

He looked at you, eyebrows raised. Someone in the undercity coming down to personally apologise for something like that instead of laughing in one’s face and running away was rare. He looked at the apologetic look on your face, and watched as you opened your mouth to speak while also stretching out your hand.

“I’m sorry…”

He reached for your hand too, ready to dismissively accept your apology and move on with his night.

“…But can I have a cigarette?”

His expression dropped.

You lazily took the cigarette from his hands and took a long, deep drag, tendrils of smoke curling from your mouth. At his frown, you moved it from your lips to speak.

“What? You don’t have herpes, do you? I’m not going to get it, am I?”

Wordlessly, he shook his head. You studied his face. Strong features, blue-green eyes. He wasn’t half bad looking.

I wouldn’t mind getting an STD from him.

Without a single reaction to your rather graphic thought you took another drag on the cigarette, before handing it back to him. “Thanks. Not everyone here knows that sharing is caring.”

He laughs, guarded, and then stops himself, surprised such a sound even came out at your words. You smiled at him sweetly. “And sorry for almost hitting your head and bashing it in with a tile. Though it wasn’t my fault, was it?”

“I suppose it was an accident,” he said stiffly, a strand of hair falling in front of his face. He dropped the cigarette, crushing it under his heel. “Miss…”

“[name]. Janna, I really needed to calm my nerves.” You stretched, arching your back like a cat, feeling the bones pop and muscles stretch deliciously. The man wet his lips, looking out at the street through the alley.

“And why would that be?” His voice was smooth. You readjusted your shawl. 

“Some enforcers were chasing me. The usual.” You let out a slow sigh, going to leave the alley without as much as a goodbye. He didn’t say anything, just watched you leave.

You planted a foot out into the street.

“That’s her!” 

You whipped your head around, watching a gaggle enforcers charging towards you. A scream tore from your lips you rushed back into the alleyway. The man grabbed you as you almost crashed into his chest.

“Fucking run!”

Shimmying up the pipe, you were back on the roof. You didn’t spare a turn to look back as your heavy lunges rattled the roofs, leaping over bars and gaps. You turned and saw an enforcer slip through a gap in the roofs, crashing into the street below. The man from the alley was just at your shoulder. Without a sparing a second you turned and left.

Once you were certain you’d lost the enforcers you stopped, chest heaving, and slumped onto the ground- roof- beneath you. The man stayed standing, eyeing you with an unreadable expression.

“Okay,” you gasped, turning over. “Now I’m actually sorry.” Coughing while trying to catch your breath you extended a hand. “Do you have water or something? I’m sorry.”

He let out a heavy sigh, not knowing how to behave in this situation as he took out a flask, crouching down and holding it out to you as you continuously mumbled apologies. You gulped down the water inside. “It isn’t poisoned, is it?” You sighed, wiping your mouth as you handed it back. He sat down as he took it, joining you on the slanted roof. 

“You only think to ask that after you’ve downed half the thing?” His voice was filled with amusement. You ignored him.

“I’m sorry, mister…”

“Silco.”

You stared at him as he took out another cigarette, patting his pockets for a lighter. Without a word you took one out, flicking it open and pushing down to activate the flame. You held it in front of his face. “I’m sorry, Silco.”

The cigarette lit up. You studied his profile, mainly the line of his sharp nose as he inhaled deeply.

“It’s fine. Why do you keep apologizing?”

“I got you involved in a chase with enforcers after almost dropping a tile on your head and taking your cigarette.”

“You didn’t have to take the cigarette,” he muttered, miffed. You ignored him, the lighter snapping shut. “And my plans for the night have been ruined…”

“I’m sorry,” you repeated. He looked at you, chuckling. “I’ll make it up to you somehow, if you want.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Such generosity is rare.”

“Not generosity. Justice.”

He laughed again, at your dramatics this time as he rolled the cigarette in between his long fingers. “Right. Justice.”

“So, one favour.”

“That’s a dangerous offer, [name].” A thought struck him, and he furrowed his brow. “Don’t tell me you’re from topside.”

You stared at him for a minute, then scoffed. “Of course I’m not. What makes you think that?”

“Your naivety.” He blew smoke from his lungs, and you watched as it curled over the rooftops. “It’s not a good idea to go around offering favours to strangers.”

“I’m as much of a trencher as you are, Silco,” you scoffed.

At this, he suddenly grabbed your wrist. You stared at him in shock as his lip curled, expression furious. You blinked, unmoving. 

“Zaunite.”

“Wh-what?”

“Use Zaunite. Not the name they gave us.” His grip on your wrist loosened before falling away completely. You nodded.

“Right.”

It fell silent.

“And I’ll never cash in that favour.”

You tilted your head. “Why not?”

“Because, it’s a stupid idea. If anything, I’m doing you a favour.” Another drag. You turned over to look at the sky.

“Thanks… I guess?”

He chuckled again, smoke curling from in between his teeth. Your face felt warm. “You’re strange.”

“So I’ve been told. What exactly were the plans for your night that I so rudely ruined?”

He didn’t say anything.

“I hope you weren’t visiting a cathouse.”

He groaned, and you laughed, snatching the cigarette off of him. He didn’t stop you. “Certainly not. Not for the cats, at least.”

“The cats?”

“The women, [name].”

“Well, what else would you go there for?”

“You’d be surprised.”

You frown. “Right… so no prostitutes.”

“Definitely not. It’s an immoral practice.”

Your eyebrows shot up. “A trencher with morals. I see.”

“Zaunite,” he said through gritted teeth.

You shrugged, sucking on the cigarette. “Well, I don’t care. They’re just making a living.”

“And what would you consider immoral?”

You blew out a cloud of smoke, and for a moment you considered saying something that he’d agree with, racking your brains for an appropriate answer. He clearly hated topside…

“What those Pilties are doing. Their prejudice against us,” you said proudly. He gave a small laugh.

“Right. Everyone thinks that. Something unique, please.”

You stayed silent. “Well… I do believe capitalising on addiction is quite immoral.”

“Ironic, considering that cigarette you’re holding.”

“There are extremes.” Your voice was low, and it was clear there was a story behind the subject. He didn’t press you, simply watching you put out the cigarette on the tin roof, your appetite for nicotine crushed.

After a quiet moment you spoke. “My sister was pregnant. Some… drug lord got her hooked onto something.” You rested your head down. “It was dangerous. They don’t make it anymore.” He hummed silently. “I lost both her and the baby. And she was all I had left, so…”

“The father?”

You scoffed, and that told him more than he needed to know.

“That… drug… business owner… whatever he was- he didn’t need money. He was filthy rich,” you spat. “A-“ your eyes slid to Silco- “A Zaunite, hoarding money, sucking life out of his own people, and not sharing a single drop. I hate that bastard.”

“What became of him?”

“Business crushed, killed by enforcers.” Your response was curt.

He hummed. “Well, in that case, I certainly won’t go down that path.”

“…I suppose I won’t work in a brothel either.”

“Or own one,” he added. You laughed.

“Or own one.”

You sighed gently, standing up. “Well, I hope whatever business you missed gets resolved. Goodbye, Silco.” You made to climb down to the street.

“Wait-“

You looked up.

“You said you don’t have anyone. If you’re ever… looking for company, go to the Last Drop. Tell the bartender you’re looking for Silco.”

Your eyes enlarged as you stowed the name in your memory. “The Last Drop,” you repeated, then nodded.

“Goodbye, [name].” 

You smiled again, and dropped down into the crowd.

When you looked back up to the sky, to the roof, he was gone.

-

[kinzhae]

Just Want To Talk PT. 2

Part 2 of this story: Part 1

Gojo Satoru

Gojo stood frozen in the middle of the room, his words echoing in his mind. The second the door slammed shut, regret hit him like a tidal wave. He sank onto the couch, running a trembling hand through his hair. He hadn’t meant any of it—not a single word.

He waited an hour. Then two. But you didn’t come back.

Panic set in as he grabbed his phone and dialed your number. It rang and rang, but you didn’t pick up. He called again, and again, his desperation growing with each unanswered call.

Finally, he grabbed his coat and headed out, searching the city for you. When he found you sitting on a park bench, your face buried in your hands, relief washed over him. But when you looked up at him, your tear-streaked face broke his heart all over again.

“Go away, Satoru,” you said, your voice hoarse. “I don’t want to hear any more of your excuses.”

He dropped to his knees in front of you, his usual arrogance nowhere to be seen. “I messed up,” he said, his voice trembling. “I didn’t mean it, Y/N. Any of it. I was frustrated, and I took it out on you, and it was wrong. You’re not a burden. You’re the only thing keeping me sane.”

You stared at him, the pain in your chest battling with the sincerity in his voice. “You made me feel worthless, Satoru. Like I didn’t matter to you at all.”

His hands reached for yours, shaking as he held them. “You matter more to me than anything. I just… I don’t know how to do this. To let someone in like this. I’m scared of losing you, and I messed up trying to protect myself.”

Your heart softened slightly at his words, but the pain was still there. “You can’t just push me away every time you’re scared.”

“I know,” he said, his voice breaking. “And I’ll spend every day proving to you that you matter to me. Please, Y/N, give me one more chance.”

You hesitated, but when he pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly, you let yourself lean into him, the warmth of his embrace finally melting the wall around your heart.

Geto Suguru

Hours passed before Suguru found you, sitting alone on the steps of the temple where you’d spent so many happy moments together. When he approached, you didn’t look up.

“I thought you wouldn’t come,” you said softly.

“I almost didn’t,” he admitted, sitting beside you. “But then I realized how much of an idiot I’ve been.”

You turned to him, your tear-streaked face filled with pain. “You called me weak, Suguru. How am I supposed to forgive that?”

“I don’t expect you to,” he said, his voice trembling. “But I need you to know that I didn’t mean it. I’m scared, Y/N. I’m scared of what I’ve become, and I pushed you away because I thought it’d be easier than letting you see me like this.”

“You hurt me,” you said, your voice breaking.

“And I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you,” he replied, his voice filled with sincerity. “You’re the only light I have left, Y/N. Please don’t let me lose you.”

You hesitated, but as he reached for your hand, his grip gentle and desperate, you allowed yourself to believe him, leaning into his embrace as he held you tightly.

Nanami Kento

Nanami worked late into the night, the weight of his words gnawing at the back of his mind. He told himself he’d said what needed to be said, but as the hours passed, guilt began to creep in. When he finally went to bed, he found your side of the bed empty.

Panic set in as he searched the apartment, only to find you curled up on the couch, your face streaked with dried tears.

He crouched beside you, gently brushing a strand of hair from your face. “Y/N,” he said softly, his voice filled with regret.

You stirred, your eyes fluttering open to meet his. “What are you doing here?” you asked, your voice still hoarse from crying. The exhaustion in your tone cut through him like a knife.

“I should be asking you that,” Nanami replied, his voice uncharacteristically soft. He sat beside you on the couch, looking at you with a mixture of guilt and sorrow. “I shouldn’t have said what I said earlier. I’ve been so caught up in everything that I didn’t even stop to think about how you were feeling.”

You stared at him for a long moment, the weight of his words lingering in the air between you. “You told me I was overthinking, that I was being insecure. But Kento… it’s not insecurity. I just want to feel like I matter to you. I’m not asking for you to drop everything for me, but… I need to know I’m important too.”

Nanami let out a shaky breath, his fingers gently brushing your arm. “You are important to me. I’m just… bad at expressing it. I’ve always been this way, focused on work, trying to make sure everything is in order. But I realize now that I’ve been neglecting the one thing that matters most.”

You shifted slightly, meeting his gaze. “What’s that?”

“You,” he whispered. “I’ve been so focused on my responsibilities that I’ve been blind to what you need from me. I’m sorry, Y/N. I was wrong, and I want to make it right. I don’t want to lose you over my own shortcomings.”

Your heart softened at his admission, but the hurt was still there, lingering. “I need time, Kento. You can’t just brush this off. You need to show me, not just tell me.”

He nodded, the sincerity in his eyes unmistakable. “I will. I’ll do whatever it takes to prove to you that I don’t take you for granted.”

He pulled you into his arms, gently resting his chin on top of your head. “I know I’ve been distant. But I promise, I’ll try harder. I won’t let you feel this way again.”

The warmth of his embrace was comforting, but the scar from his words still burned deep inside you. You wanted to believe him. You wanted to trust that things could change.

For now, you let yourself rest in his arms, knowing that he was willing to try. But in the back of your mind, you knew that actions spoke louder than words.

Choso

Choso stood there, his eyes filled with an emotional turmoil that he struggled to control. His hands clenched into fists at his sides. “You don’t know what I’ve done. What I’ve become.”

“Then tell me,” you said gently, taking a step toward him. “Don’t shut me out. Let me in, Choso. I’m not going anywhere.”

The raw vulnerability in your voice cracked the wall he had so carefully built around himself. His breath hitched as he looked at you, the weight of his inner battle tearing him apart.

“I don’t deserve you,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “I don’t deserve anyone. Not after everything I’ve done.”

You shook your head, reaching for his hand. “Choso, I don’t care about what you think you deserve. I care about you. I love you, and I’m not going to walk away because you think you’re too broken.”

He looked down at your hand in his, his throat tight with emotion. Slowly, he pulled you into an embrace, burying his face in your shoulder as he finally let his tears fall.

“I’m sorry,” he choked out, his voice thick with regret. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. I didn’t mean to push you away. I’m just so scared of dragging you down with me.”

You held him tightly, running your fingers through his hair. “I’m here, Choso. I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

In that moment, as he clung to you, you knew that while the pain wasn’t gone, there was hope for healing. You would both find your way back to each other. Slowly, but surely.

Ryomen Sukuna

Sukuna didn’t follow you immediately. He stayed on his throne, his expression unchanging, but the empty room suddenly felt heavier than usual. He told himself it didn’t matter, that you’d come back like you always did. But as the hours dragged on and the sound of your footsteps never returned, something began to stir inside him—a feeling he hadn’t allowed himself to name.

By the time he went looking for you, the sun had long since set. He found you in the palace garden, sitting on a cold stone bench with your knees pulled to your chest. Your cloak was wrapped tightly around you, but it wasn’t enough to hide the way your body trembled, either from the cold or from the weight of your grief.

For a long moment, he just stood there, watching you. You didn’t look up. Maybe you knew he was there, or maybe you were too lost in your thoughts to notice.

Finally, he broke the silence. “Still sulking, I see.”

Your head shot up, your tear-streaked face glaring at him with a mixture of anger and heartbreak. “Go away, Sukuna.”

He ignored your words, stepping closer until he was standing directly in front of you. “You’ve been out here for hours. Are you trying to freeze to death?”

You let out a bitter laugh, shaking your head. “Why do you care? I’m just a ‘distraction,’ remember?”

His jaw clenched, the faintest flicker of regret crossing his face. “I… misspoke.”

“Misspoke?” you repeated, standing up abruptly. Your voice cracked as the tears came rushing back. “You told me I was nothing, Sukuna! That I was weak and pathetic! How do you misspeak that?”

He flinched at the raw pain in your voice, his usual arrogance faltering. “I said those things because I’m a fool,” he admitted, his voice quieter than you had ever heard it. “Because I don’t know how to handle this—how to handle you. You make me feel things I don’t understand, and it terrifies me.”

You stared at him, your anger mingling with confusion. “And you thought hurting me was the answer?”

“I thought it would push you away,” he admitted, his voice filled with rare vulnerability. “That it would be easier if you hated me. But instead, all I’ve done is hurt the one person who matters most to me.”

Your breath hitched at his words, the raw sincerity in his tone breaking through the walls you had built around your heart. “You broke me, Sukuna,” you whispered. “I don’t know if I can forgive you.”

He stepped closer, his crimson eyes locking onto yours. “I don’t deserve your forgiveness,” he said, his voice trembling slightly. “But I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to earn it. I can’t lose you, Y/N. You’re the only thing keeping me from becoming the monster everyone says I am.”

For a long moment, neither of you spoke. Slowly, hesitantly, you let him pull you into his arms, his hold tight and protective. For the first time in weeks, you felt like you weren’t alone.

[inthedarknessofnight]

Thinking about struggling musician Eddie who makes a living singing and playing guitar in a Metallica tribute band.

Thinking about bartender Steve who thinks tribute bands are the cringiest, most insufferable things to ever exist.

Thinking about Robin, his coworker, who made a bet on the very first day of their new job that Steve would eventually hook up with someone from a tribute band.

And the thing is, he almost makes it. Three years and he’s got a completely clean track record. Well, at least until the night some random Metallica cover band’s frontman has Steve questioning his sanity from the moment he sets foot on stage. Because Steve is mesmerized. By the way his lithe figure moves under the bright stage lights. By the way his fingers slide deftly along the neck of his guitar. By the way his voice permeates the room, filling the air to the point where Steve thinks he must be breathing the music into his lungs. And then, the motherfucker has the audacity to take off shirt his mid-performance, putting on display a well-curated collection of tattoos. Steve feels like an ancient deity has descended from the heavens and decided to play fucking Metallica, on a fucking Tuesday, in the shittiest fucking bar in all of Inianapolis. Well and truly distracted by the action on stage, Steve doesn’t register the glass slipping slowly out of his grasp, until the damn thing has hit the floor and broken into a thousand pieces. When he turns to examine the mess, Robin is already there, broom in hand.

“You might wanna think about closing that mouth, dingus. I don’t think you drooling all over this pristine countertop is good for business,” she says with barely contained laughter, quickly sweeping the shards into the dustpan.

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up,” he retorts, rolling his eyes, suddenly very aware of just how much he was staring. Instinctively, Steve shakes his hand to drive away the haze, grabs a new glass, and tries his best to focus on the task at hand.

It isn’t until the final number of the evening that Steve’s resolve truly crumbles. He’s all but managed to tune out the goings-on around him, which is why he nearly has a heart attack when he suddenly finds himself face to face with the beam coming straight from the main spotlight.

“Can we- Yes. Perfect. There he is,” says a low voice coming from the very center of the stage, followed by a cacophony of loud cheers.

And… Oh no.

“What the-,” he mutters, a hand flying up to shield his eyes from the blinding light. That’s when he sees him.

“Hey, pretty boy behind the bar. Get me some whiskey up here on this stage, will you?”

And Steve is so so so incredibly fucked.

He stares dumbly for a few seconds. Having seemingly lost any and all ability to think independently, Steve brain shifts into autopilot, causing him to grab the full bottle of Jack sitting on the shelf behind him, stroll towards the stage as if possessed, accompanied by the sound of cheering, which only grows louder with every step he takes. He climbs the steps leading onto the stage. As soon as he reaches the top, he finds himself face to face with…

He’s so close. For a brief moment, Steve wonders if he knew prior to this moment that a person can be this beautiful. They’re chest to chest. The guy is ducking his head to whisper something to Steve, his breath hitting the sensitive spot just below the ear as he does so.

“Thanks, sweetheart,” he says, his like voice smoke, and milk, and honey, and all things Steve wants to breathe in, and drink, and savor. He plucks the bottle from Steve’s hand, ringed fingers grazing his.

He winks at Steve as he takes a few steps backwards, a devilish smile playing on his lips. Then, without breaking eye contact, he tips his head back, opens his mouth, and begins pouring the amber liquid until it spills over he edges, running down his neck and the length of his torso. After what feels like hours to Steve, the guy finally swallows the remnants of the drinking in his mouth, immediately leveling Steve with a dark gaze.

“Now you.”

Positively transfixed, Steve realizes a little too late that he has, in fact, missed his window to flee, and is headed head-first for whatever public humiliation the guy has in store for him. A strong, sure hand grips the back of his neck, long fingers tangling into the hair at the nape, tugging ever so slightly.

“Open.”

It’s not gentle. It’s a thing of lust. A command. Steve feels it in his bones. And he can’t look away. His body is not his own when he gives into the pull of the musician’s hand, his jaw going lax, mouth automatically falling open. The guy brings the bottle up to Steve’s mouth, pouring in a generous amount. Before Steve even gets the chance to swallow the liquid already burning its way down his throat, the bottle is being shoved rougly into his hand, the guy bringing his other hand up once again, only to press the palm under Steve’s chin, forcing his mouth closed. Forcing him to swallow. Steve nearly chokes.

“Good boy,” he says with a wicked grin, before pushing a spluttering, coughing Steve back in the direction of the stairs, causing him to nearly topple off the stage. The guy laughs maniacally into his microphone and the crowd goes wild, the drummer already counting them into the final song.

Still bewildered and absolutely dumbfounded by whatever just happened to him on that stage, Steve chances one last glance in the singer’s direction as he descends the stairs.

This time, however, he isn’t met with a sultry, dark look, or one of the guy’s infamous mischievous grins. Instead, he finds a pair of soft brown eyes staring back at him, and plush pink lips curved into the dopiest, most endearing smile Steve has ever seen.

…

By the end of the night, Steve has found the love of his life and Robin is collecting money from nearly every employee at the bar, sporting a smug, I-told-you-so expression on her face.

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

Can you do a Daryl Dixon one where he almost loses her to someone/something/or a walker so he decides to tell her that he loves her and he makes love to her as well. A little possessive and maybe kinda future family references?

.⋆｡Worst Timing｡⋆.

Daryl Dixon x plus size reader

Daryl is an all or nothing man, so obviously he would only tell you that he was desperately in love with you right after you almost died.

Warnings: canon-level violence, walkers, loosely based around s6 ep9, sorry no smut this time (i blame the luteal phase), angst, fluff, confessions, blood, mention of kids  WC: 1.1k

Minors DNI

A/N: Could be read as a part 2 to this but it isn't necessary to read it first

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

The sounds of walkers were almost deafening, almost. The crackling of the flames behind him and the squelch of blades against flesh but Daryl forced himself to ignore all of that, though the volume kept increasing like someone had turned up the world’s biggest stereo. 

Withered hands reached for him, but the hunter battered them away with a swing of his knife. He just had to get further into the crowd, he could see the house where the group had been held up, the candles in the window like a beacon in the night. He was only a couple hundred feet away, a few rows of walkers between him and his people.

The sea of rotting bodies parted for just a moment, right as a street lamp flickered to life, and there you were. A crowbar in your dominant hand, your clothes soaked in blood and walker guts, your eyes reflecting the fire in front of you and for a moment, Daryl froze in awe. You gracefully swung the weapon over your head, bringing it down into the skull of a fresh walker before spinning on your heel and using the otherside to connect with the jaw of another. You moved fluidly, like this was a well-practised dance you had done hundreds of times before instead of a game of survival. 

Your arm came down, spiking a crawler through the top of its skull. But suddenly, you stopped moving, your eyes going wide. You grabbed at the crowbar with both hands and pulled back but it refused to budge, and just as you vanished once more into the crowd, Daryl saw why.

The straight end of the crowbar had pierced all the way through the walker and buried itself in the hard soil beneath your feet and with the walkers closing in around you, you had no room to get enough leverage to pull it out. Then you vanished between the walkers once more.

“Y/N!” Daryl didn’t even think as he launched himself in your direction, hunting knife screaming through the air, cutting down anything that stood in his way. He pushed and shoved and clawed his way through because you were all that mattered, you were all he lived for. The moment he met you in that stupid, beautiful, damned farm, his world had tilted on its axis.

Your smile was his sunlight, your laugh, his favourite music. Your body, his aurora borealis. You were a miracle and yet so painfully human all the same. And if he let you die, his heart would wither away with you before he ever got to tell you that it had been yours since before you both had even met.

Red blurred his vision though whether it was from blood or rage, he didn’t care to find out. He threw his broad shoulder into the chest of a particularly tall walker, forcing it back into the waiting blade of one of the Alexandrians and finally, finally clearing the way to you. 

You were pinned against the street curb, your back curved at an awkward angle as the weight of two walkers kept you from standing or rolling away. You held one back with your left arm, its face barely centimetres from your own, as you wedged a knee between you and the second one.

His fingers sank into the rotted flesh of the creature trying to sink its teeth into your forearm and threw it off with so much force that as soon as it hit the concrete several feet away, its skull cracked open, spilling black brain matter onto the street. You were now fully on your back, still punching and kicking in any direction you could, even as the walkers started to thin. You shoved off the second walker, just in time for Daryl’s steel-toed boot to come down right on the back of its head.

“Daryl.” His name dripped from your lips like honey, immediately cooling his head like some sort of balm to his soul. The ground shook as he fell to his knees next to you. The orange light of the lake still burning strong flickered across your face, illuminating every single detail he had memorised so long ago.

The roughness of his palm met the softness of your full cheek, sending a spark of excitement racing through his tired body. “I almost lost ya.” You pressed into his touch, your own shaking hand cupping his elbow as you leaned in closer.

“But you saved me.” His heart skipped a beat and you smiled gently at him. You were here, you were alive and in his arms and suddenly, Daryl couldn’t hold himself back anymore.

Your lips were chapped and dry but perfect all the same as he finally kissed you. A squeak of surprise passed from your mouth to his before your eyes fluttered shut and you pressed against him. Your fingers curled into the soft leather of his vest, like you were trying to anchor him to you as if he were about to get up and walk away. Daryl snarled at the thought, his grip on your jaw getting tighter as the kiss began to heat up.

You were desperately chasing his lips, your feelings so plainly laid out for him that Daryl felt stupid for never having seen them before. He felt your need to be by his side in the warmth of your touch, the faith you had in him in the way you let his weight rest against you. 

The softness of your body moulded to him in a way he could only imagine it would and it was so much more than that. Your nose bumped into his, prompting him to tilt his head. You responded with a soft moan that shot through his body. 

“While I am happy for you two, we still have shit to do, now’s not really the time.” You pulled away from Daryl’s lips with an embarrassed gasp, leaving him cold without your touch. Michonne stood above the both of you, equally haggard and filthy but her smile, although small, was genuine if not teasing. 

“Sorry.” You scrambled to your feet and pulled your crowbar from where it was still stuck. Your eyes sparkled as you looked at Daryl, a promise and heat in your gaze, before you jogged off into the centre of town where the herd was now thinned but still biting. 

He watched you go, his heart trailing behind you. “Rick’ll want to be godfather to your kids, just so you know.” 

A blush exploded across his face. “Shuddup.” He rushed after you, cheeks still burning and his body exhausted but he felt lighter than he had ever felt before. Because you were surviving and you were his and by whatever god was out there, he would spend the rest of his life thanking them for that.

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[daisymbin]

"you used to love me " with mingyu x fem! Reader💗

of course! thank you for requesting 🥰

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second chance prompt #44: "you used to love me."

mingyu had gotten used to the coldness in your voice. it wasn't always like this—there was a time when the sound of your laughter had been his favorite thing, when your touch had felt like home. but ever since the breakup, you had a way of cutting him down with sharp words and pointed looks, leaving him wondering where everything had gone wrong.

he didn't know why you hated him now. or at least, why you acted like you did.

“don’t you have anything better to do than linger around here?” you snapped one evening, your tone biting as mingyu hovered near your desk at the shared workspace for a project.

his brows furrowed. “i was just asking if you needed help. no need to bite my head off.”

“well, i don’t,” you replied curtly, your eyes fixed on the papers in front of you.

he clenched his jaw, forcing a polite nod. “got it.”

it wasn’t the first time you’d brushed him off like this. at a mutual friend's party, you'd made a snide comment about how “clingy” he used to be, loud enough for him to hear. when you’d run into him at the grocery store, you muttered something about how “some people just don’t know when to let go” before walking away without so much as a glance back.

but this time, it was different.

the final blow came on a late afternoon, after yet another tense encounter. mingyu had tried to make small talk, asking about your day, and you snapped, “why do you even care? you didn’t care enough when it actually mattered.”

his chest tightened, the words hitting him harder than he expected. for a moment, he just stared at you, his lips parting as if to say something but no sound coming out. finally, his voice broke through, soft and pained.

“you used to love me, you know,” he said, his eyes locking onto yours. “you don’t have to be like that... you don't have to be so mean.”

your breath caught, and for a moment, you faltered, but you quickly masked it with a scoff. “that’s in the past.”

he didn’t reply, just nodded slowly, shoulders heavy as he turned and walked away.

a few days later, you found yourself at the park for an outdoor charity event, mingyu nearby as usual, volunteering for the setup. you tried to avoid him, keeping your distance as much as possible.

but then you heard the commotion.

a crash, followed by a string of startled voices. you whipped around to see mingyu sprawled on the ground near a pile of fallen equipment, holding his arm awkwardly.

“gyu-ah!” you shouted as panic coarses through you, rushing over before you even realized what you were doing. he groaned, trying to sit up, but you dropped to your knees beside him, your hands trembling as they hovered over his arm.

“what were you thinking?” you snapped, but your voice cracked with worry. “you could’ve gotten seriously hurt!”

“im fine,” he said weakly, offering you a small, strained smile. “just a scratch.”

“a scratch?” you repeated, your voice rising. “mingyu, you’re bleeding!”

tears pricked your eyes as you fussed over him, checking his arm for more injuries. mingyu's eyebrows burrowed as he watched you in silence, his heart twisting at the sight of your panic.

“you’re always so reckless,” you muttered, your voice breaking as you pressed a clean cloth to his arm to stop the bleeding. “why do you always have to act like nothing matters? why can't you take better care of yourself? you scared me.”

he blinked, taken aback. “you were scared?”

“of course i was scared!” you snapped, tears spilling over now. “do you think i’d just stand there and do nothing if something happened to you? i—”

you stopped, realizing what you were about to say. your hands froze, still pressed against his arm, and you refused to meet his gaze.

“you still care about me,” mingyu said softly, his voice filled with quiet wonder.

you swallowed hard, shaking your head. “i... i don’t...”

“you do,” he pressed, leaning closer despite the pain in his arm. “you wouldn’t be like this if you didn’t.”

you bit your lip, fresh tears welling up. “what do you want me to say?” you asked in exasperation and frustration, your shoulders shaking. “what do you want me to do? why can't you just.. why do you keep making me worry? why can't you just stay away? why do you have to make moving on from you so hard? why cant you just let me be mean and hate you? its so much easier to just hate you than—”

mingyu could only watch helplessly as you choked over your sobs. his heart broke at your words, guilt washing over him. “i’m sorry,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “for everything. for making you feel like you had to do that just to protect yourself. i... i didn't mean to," mingyu says defeatedly, "i know i probably don’t deserve it, but.. i miss us.”

your breath hitched, and he reached out hesitantly, his fingers brushing against yours. “i don’t want to hurt you again,” he continued, his voice soft and vulnerable. “but if there’s even the smallest part of you that’s willing to try again... i’d do anything to show you how much i still love you.”

you looked up at him, his sincerity clear in his eyes, and for the first time in a long while, the wall you’d built around your heart began to crack.

“i hate you,” you muttered as your fist balled and hits his chest, "i hate you so much," your voice trembling as the tears now fall freely.

still, mingyu smiled through his pain, knowing what this means. “i love you,” he confesses, "I love you so much,"

"I hate you," you repeat, your fist going up to hit his chest again.

this time, mingyu catches you by your wrist, "you hate me as much as you love me, sweetheart." at this, your eyes only waters more because you know he's right; you dont actually hate him.

mingyu's grip on your wrist loosened, his hand sliding down to intertwine with yours. his gaze softened, but he didn't let go, holding onto you like you were his lifeline.

"you hate me, but you're still here," he murmured, his voice trembling as he let out a bitter laugh. "you’re crying because of me, you’re still holding on, too."

your lips parted to argue, but nothing came out. the truth sat heavy in the air between you.

"stop it," you whispered instead, your voice wavering.

he shook his head, his free hand brushing against your cheek, wiping away a tear that had slipped down. "i love you," he says again softly, his thumb lingering on your skin. "i’m not asking you to forgive me right away. i’m not even asking you to love me again—"

"gyu-," you interrupted, your chest tightening at the vulnerability in his voice.

he smiled faintly, shaking his head. "no, just let me say this," he said, his voice quiet but firm. "all I'm asking for is a chance. a chance to show you that i can do better. that i can be the man you deserve to have by your side."

your heart pounded in your chest, his words hitting you with a force you weren’t prepared for. your walls wavered, the cracks growing wider with each syllable he spoke.

"and if you can’t," mingyu continued, his voice breaking slightly, "if you can’t give me that chance, i’ll walk away. i’ll leave you alone for good if that’s what you want."

you stared at him, your throat tight as tears threatened to spill again. his honesty was overwhelming, and for a moment, you hated how much you wanted to believe him.

"you used to love me," he voice soft & hoarse, it almost broke you. "and i know i messed it up. but if there’s even the smallest part of you that still does, just... let me fix it."

the silence between you felt deafening. your heart screamed at you to take the risk, but your head begged you to protect yourself.

you searched his face, looking for any hint of insincerity, but all you saw was him—raw, open, and so clearly in love with you that it hurt.

"you’re an idiot," you muttered, your voice breaking, but your grip on his hand didn’t falter.

mingyu let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, his lips curving into a relieved, almost disbelieving smile. "i missed hearing you say that," he said softly, pulling you closer.

you rolled your eyes, a weak laugh escaping you despite the tears still clinging to your lashes. "don’t push your luck."

"never," he said, his voice full of quiet determination as he pulled you into a gentle embrace. "i promise."

[dira333]

Mom Friend - Kenma - part 3

Hinata’s dating someone.

He tells you first - at least that’s what he claims when he knocks on your door that Sunday, asking to be let in.

Kenma had been right, after all. Hinata doesn’t mind being mothered.

His girlfriend, one of the team's managers, doesn’t mind mothering him.

“I’m happy for you,” you tell him, hugging him tight. “Should have seen that coming, really. You’ve always been giggling during the breaks.”

He blushes adorably. “We’re going out as a group this Sunday. Are you coming?”

“Sure,” you agree easily. It’s different now. Easier.

-

The night is still warm, though you can smell the crispness of autumn. You bring a warmer jacket, unsurprised that you get to lend it out only five minutes after sitting down.

You sit in the corner, with an empty chair to your left. You don’t think much about it until a shadow falls over your table.

Kenma is quiet as he slides out the chair, waves at everyone and sits down.

You don’t make a fuss either and turn back to the conversation on your right, trying your best to forget about him.

It’d be a lie to say you manage. His knee hits yours as he tries to find a comfortable position and though neither of you says anything, your eyes meet for the briefest moment.

Kiyoomi changes seats right after ordering and you know it’s just so he can talk to your friend sitting across from you, but if you don’t want to butt into their conversation every five seconds you have no choice but to talk to Kenma.

“How’s work?” You ask, twirling your glass between your fingers.

“Good. Yours?”

“Good.”

Silence settles over you. Kiyoomi says something about a movie he wanted to watch and you add that you’ve seen it. The conversation moves onto your opinion about it before turning to something entirely else and your focus drifts again.

Kenma’s staring at the tablecloth. 

It’s a little weird that he’s not playing on his phone.

“Is your battery dead?”

“No,” he shakes his head.

“Oh, okay.”

You wish you could just pull your own phone out and play around with it, but you’ve always thought that a little bit rude, not to mention that the only book you’ve got downloaded is pretty boring.

“There’s a movie-” Kenma starts but cuts himself off when the server arrives with the first few plates of food.

It’s easy not to talk as long as you’re eating. Just chew slowly, stare at the plate or smile at someone at the end of the table, ask them how they’re enjoying their meal.

Soon, though, the plates are cleared again. Dessert is ordered, but that takes some time.

Your eyes trail over the flowers decorating the patio. The little path separating the tables. The edge of your table. Kenma’s hands, pressed flat onto the tablecloth.

“You were saying?” You ask, turning toward him. “About a movie?”

Relief washes over his face.

“It’s similar to the one we watched. Back in, uh, May, was it?”

“April,” you correct him.

“Right.” He clears his throat awkwardly, folds his hands, and separates them again. He’s nervous. “It’s not about the same game, but it’s very similar. You liked that last one, yeah?”

“It was okay,” you agree quietly, thinking back. “The ending was good.”

Kenma nods. His pupils are wide as he looks at you.

You can’t help thinking back to that night in April, how you thought about the size of his pupils then. Did they tell the truth then? Or is it just nonsense you read somewhere?

“I was thinking about going to watch it,” he mutters. “I wanted to ask around… maybe you want to come?”

Time seems to stand still for a moment. 

You want to turn, to check on the others, see if they’re laughing, if they’re in on a joke you don’t get, if they’re even here with you right now, or if you’re dreaming, but you can’t move.

“Sure,” you say because you don’t know what else to say. “If I’m free.”

This time, Kenma doesn’t look relieved. Maybe he wanted you to decline? You don’t care enough. Though that is a lie and you know it.

You push yourself up from the table with an apologetic smile.

“I need the bathroom real quick,” you tell him, turn to your friend but she’s still deep in conversation with Kiyoomi. “You know what I ordered if it arrives before I’m back.”

The toilet seat is cold, but you stay there longer than necessary.

It feels like a Deja Vu or your very own version of Groundhog Day. 

“He does not love you,” you tell yourself like a mantra until you can feel it settle in your bones.

Only then do you feel ready to go back.

- - -

The air is crisp, your cheeks sting from the wind. If air had a taste, you think it would taste like fresh soda, bubbling on your tongue. 

You’re still unsure if this is a good idea, even as you walk up to the cinema, the same one you went to last time.

You dressed comfortably and not to impress. As far as you know only a few people confirmed. Kenma, of course. Kuroo, too. Hinata and his girlfriend. And you. 

Your phone buzzes in your pocket as you reach the front door, but you don’t want to look at it yet.

You’re early, it seems. Or maybe everyone canceled, just like last time.

You wait another minute before you pull out your phone. 

Kuroo has to work longer. Hinata’s caught a stomach bug.

You wait for the next text, for Kenma to decline as well.

“Hey.”

-

This time it’s you, head buried in your hoody, eyes on your phone. 

Kenma’s dressed well. He must have had a work meeting earlier, though you remember he often dresses in sweats for those as well.

But he did wear fancy pants to the hangout too, so it doesn’t have to mean anything.

“Everyone canceled,” you tell him, raising your phone like it means something.

He nods and moves as if stretching out his hand before pushing it into the pocket of his blazer.

“I’m still going to watch the movie,” he points out, looking up at the sign above the door. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

You think about it for a second. Think about the last time you went in there with him. Nothing good came from it.

But you’re not scared of him. Nothing he can say will hurt more than what he said last time. And you survived that, right?

-

The movie isn’t bad. 

You know even less of this game, but it doesn’t seem to matter. They’ve built up the story well. It almost makes you forget that Kenma paid for the Popcorn sitting between the two of you, the giant basket he asked to share.

“I want the limited edition bucket,” he had explained, his eyes darting around. “But I don’t want to eat the whole thing by myself.”

You offered to pay for the drinks but he’d declined, quietly but firmly.

And now you’re sitting here and it feels like a date when it clearly isn’t.

-

“Do you wanna eat something?” Kenma asks once you leave the cinema, dust your clothes off and get rid of the last remnants of popcorn and stray skittles. 

You hesitate for a second.

“You don’t have to apologize.”

Kenma’s face twists.

“I’m not-”

“Okay,” you nod to yourself. “So why are you being so nice to me?”

He hesitates.

“Can we talk?” He scuffs his shoes on the linoleum floor. “Somewhere more private?”

You look at him for a while before you nod.

“Same as last time?”

He nods and you follow him out of the Cinema and down the street. 

The wind is biting and you pull your jacket tighter around you. 

A couple walks down the street, facing you. The girl shivers and the guy pulls her close. Kenma turns his head to look at you and you swallow around a lump in your throat. 

As they pass, Kenma steps out of their way, careful not to bump into you. 

It feels like a sign. You wish it didn’t.

-

The warmth of the restaurant has you sniffling. Kenma finds a booth at the back and promises to order while you hit up the bathroom.

Your eyes are watery and your nose is red. You look like you’ve cried.

No amount of cold water is going to save that so you leave it as is, blow your nose one last time, and go back. Your stomach is tight, your hands cold.

Kenma’s looking at you as you walk over. His phone is not on the table. 

Whatever he has to say must be important to him.

-

“Do you still have a crush on me?”

His voice is even, like he’s reading from the menu and it takes you a second to register the meaning of the words.

Your mouth opens, but you have no answer.

This time though, you don’t look away. You hold his gaze, find anxiety darkening the gold in his eyes.

Eventually, you find your voice.

“Why do you ask?”

“I-” He hesitates. “I’ve been thinking about it. A lot.”

“Okay?”

“I’m sorry,” Kenma mutters and there’s a weight to his words and to his gaze. 

“Okay.”

He says nothing more for a while and you swallow around the questions in your throat. You don’t want to ask them. 

The food arrives and he stares down at it as if he forgot how to eat.

“It’s not going to be like it was before,” you eventually add when he makes no move to pick up his chopsticks.

“I know.”

“And yet you apologized.”

“It’s not just what I said,” he tells the table instead of you. “It’s how I said it.”

“It hurt a lot.”

“I can only imagine.”

You sniffle. It’s so silly that it makes you tear up again, the memory of it. But you can’t help it. 

“It would have been okay, you know.” You tell him quietly. “If you just… told me that you weren’t interested. Why did you have to try and set me up with someone else?”

Kenma picks his chopsticks up and puts them down again.

“I wanted to make you happy.”

A dry laugh works its way out of your throat.

“That’s not how you do that?”

“Yeah,” he sighs. “I gathered that. I’m… I’ve never…” He stops. “I’ve never felt that way before.”

Something in the way he says it irks you.

“What way?”

A nervous blush works its way up his neck.

“Protective,” he mutters. “Like… I needed to make sure… That you’re happy. And you wouldn’t have been happy… with me.”

Realization sinks in heavy and you gasp for air.

“Do you have a crush on me?”

“Kuroo thought you might be into Shouyou,” Kenma tries to avoid your question. He’s staring out the window too. “Because you were always mothering him.”

“That’s not the que-”

“You’re like Kuroo, in that way,” Kenma adds on, as if he’s not hearing you. “So I thought maybe you’d be happy with him, too. You could take care of each other. God knows Kuroo works too much. You do too. Always care too much about your coworker's needs. Or what your friends want. You bring extra water bottles and extra painkillers and a snack in case someone gets hungry and you remind them of their appointments-”

“Kenma.”

He sinks into himself. Kenma’s not tall, at least not compared to his friends. He’s not sturdy or broad-shouldered or anything. He’s just Kenma.

“I really messed up, didn’t I?” Kenma asks, his eyes finding yours. 

“Yeah, you did.”

Quiet settles over you. But it’s not stifling or uncomfortable.

Instead, it’s the soft quiet of knowing the truth.

You straighten and pick up Kenma’s chopsticks, press them into his hands.

“Eat,” you tell him. “We can’t figure things out on an empty stomach.”

“Figure things out…” He repeats, almost phrases it like a question. Almost.

“Yeah,” you try a smile. “If I’ve learned anything these past few months is that you can’t get anything done without good communication. And I think we’re really mastering that today.”

His lips break into a shy smile and he starts to eat.

You don’t know what’s going to happen after this.

All you know is that you’re breathing a little easier.

Everything else you can worry about later.

- OPEN END -

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Mom Friend - Kenma pt one two three

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

Bury me into the sound of your name

a/n this is fiction. And i am not okay after this so have fun.

request: how about iii, ivy, and reader hanging out after the tour is finally over and decide to play truth or dare. and perhaps things get spicy after some weed consumption

warning: smutty, sexual content, iii x iv x reader too so keep that in mind.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

It had been the last show in Europe. Everyone was both tired yet thrilled about the European show so far. The crowds have been wild. Everyone seemed to be happy with how everything was going. You had joined your support act for a couple of drinks. The crew was just as excited for a couple of days of rest before everyone had to be shining smooth once more.

ii had been the first one to tap out with Vessel leaving alongside him. Both had never been too keen on crowded spaces and late nights. You, however, stayed till the hotel bar was closing. “See you guys”, you waved at everyone as people parted ways going back to their rooms. “Have a good one”, iii saluted, joined by iv as you three headed to your floor. “Are you guys going to sleep?”, iv asked undoing the first two buttons of his shirt. “We should but I know that I won’t be able to”, you shrugged. Even after years of touring the adrenaline still got the best of you at times. “Round two?”, iv wiggled his eyebrows, turning to both you and iii.

“We have a flight to catch tomorrow”, you pointed out. “So we wake up and go”, iii shrugged, nudging your shoulder. “Did you pack?”, you crossed your arms over your chest, raising an eyebrow at him. “Guess you will have to come and see for yourself”, winking at you, he draped an arm over your shoulder as you waited for the elevator. “Let’s see what Vess and ii think”, you suggested, pulling out your phone to type a quick message into the group chat. “I think they both are already passed out”, iv chuckled, motioning for you to get into the elevator first.

“Dang you lucked out with the room”, you looked around, the place was huge. There had been some unplanned changes meaning that a couple of rooms had been upgraded since they had miscounted them.

“For two big guys”, iv chucked, “I'm sure your ego still doesn’t fit here”, you snorted. “Shit face”, ivy bit back leaning forward, “Asshole”, you chirped, turning from him. “I have some good shit”, iii walked out of the side room. Beer bottles beneath one arm, a bag of blanks, and no doubt weed in the other. “Oh, we’re prepared”, you chuckled settling down onto the sofa. “We’re here to have fun”,’ Ivy opened one beer, handing it to you. iii quickly rolled a perfectly looking blunt before pressing it against his lips. You couldn’t help but bite your lip as you watched him lighting it up, before making grabby fingers at it. “Vessel said to not let you smoke”, iii smirked, making you roll your eyes, “Shush”, you clicked your tongue, “Hand it over”, “Come and take it”, he dared you. With a roll of your eyes, you reached out, one hand on his thigh as you leaned over him. Stopping to stare at him before pulling the blunt from his lips, taking a drag yourself. Carefully slumping against his chest as you puffed a white cloud out.

“I have a suggestion”, iv hummed after taking a sip. Both you and iii turning to him. “Let’s play truth or dare”, there was a pause of silence before you both fell into fits of laughter. “How old are we, Ivy, ten?”, iii chuckled, leaning back to take a swing of his drink. “Were you drunk and high at that age playing this?”, iv grumbled, “we’ll play like grown-ups”.’ Something about that sentence alone had made a light tinge spread over your core. “Well, lead the way grown up”, iii shook his head.

“Truth or dare, bassy boy”, ivy leaned back against the soft edge waisting no time . “Dare”, iii mused, making iv smirk, “chose an article of clothing on y/n and take it off”. Both your and iii’s faces went blank before the realization hit you as you two turned to one another. “Your consent?”, iii asked taking a long drag of the cigarette. “All yours” you mussed, “Up you go then”, iii pulled you off the sofa, before kneeling in front of you.

“What are…”, you gripped his shoulders as he lifted one of your legs onto his knee, fingers reaching for the straps of your heels. “Got to help your friends out”, iii mused looking up at you, “Aren’t they killing you, love”, before you had a chance to answer he leaned down kissing your leg, moving up the side of your thigh and giving it a light bite. You couldn’t help it throwing your head up as a moan slipped past your lips. Ivy chuckled from behind you both.

Switching legs iii let his fingers go further up the black silk dress you had on. Inching over your thigh and up your ass. His head instantly snapped up, hand stalling because he was in on your secret too. You press your finger to your lips. iii just shook his head smirking before he leaned in to kiss your hip, pulling back and reaching for his beer. You let out a breath, sitting down yourself. Fingers trembling slightly as you reached for the blunt.

“Truth or dare, ivy”, you crocked out. “Dare, of course”, he shrugged. You let yourself breathe for a moment, “I dare you to kiss iii”, you muttered, voice small. Yes, you three messed around from time to time but it had never really ended in proper sex. The waters seemed murky here. You didn’t know where was the limit. “What was that?” iv mused getting up as he made his way to you, “I didn’t hear you, baby”, you watched him for a heartbeat. “Make out with iii”, you said a lot firmer this time. Ivy simply hummed turning to iii, pulling the cigarette away from his lips, brushing it against his before taking a drag. “What do you say, slinky?”, iv cooed making iii roll his eyes before he took a fist full of his shirt dragging him down. You watched them. Not even daring to blink in case it all disappeared. The way they moved effortlessly against one another. Hungrily fighting over control as they kissed. You quickly cross your legs, trying to find any sort of friction. Fingers itching to circle your core. With a couple of pecks, they pulled away both panting, Ivy brushing his thumb over iii lips.

“Truth or dare, minx”, you blinked quickly, the daze around you lifting ever so slightly. “Dare”, you muttered, licking your lips. “Come, get this shirt off me, love”, ivy beckoned you over with his finger. You didn’t trust your legs yet you still stood. Letting the leather jacket slip down your shoulders before you slowly walked to him. You reached for his beer before handing it to him. “Enjoy”, you uttered, sinking to your knees, both hands on each of his thighs. “Jesus, fuck”, Ivy grunted, running a hand over his mouth. You smirked, pushing your hair over one shoulder as you leaned over, kissing the already exposed part of his chest as your fingers messily worked on the rest of the buttons. Raking your fingers down his chest you yanked the material of the shirt that was tucked into his pants out. Looked up just before you kissed down his happy trail, nibbling at the skin around the waistband of his pants. “Yn”, he grunted, “dangerous territory you’re entering”, he warned you, hand already pulling fistfuls off your hair. You liked your lips as you looked back at him, pushing up against his knees.

The room was getting stuffy from the smell of weed. The sexual tension was so thick you could feel it. “Iii”, you started only to be cut off, “take the top of y/n dresses off”. “Being hard makes you rude”, you chuckled, “I want you to have a taste of your own medicine”, ivy mewled. “I can play nice”, iii snickered pulling at your hand as he helped you settle against his lap. His warm breath on your shoulder sending a shiver down your spine.

He took his time, kissing down your throat, nuzzling his nose against your cheek before pulling the strap of your dress with his teeth. “Shit”, “fuck me”, they both echoed in unison. You couldn’t help but chuckle, pulling the other strap off yourself as you turned towards iv, so he too could get a nicer view. “When?”, iii breathed, hand reaching out to cup your breast. The metal bars glistened in the dim light. “Better question is how did we not see it”, ivy perked up. “Not long ago, hence the loose shirts”, you smiled softly, before iii leaned down licking the still soar nipple, tongue dancing over the metal bar, “fuck iii”, you whimpered, grinding against him.

“Jesus, I can’t do this”, ivy said, you could hear him unbuckling his pants. “We’re either fucking or going our separate ways 'cause I’m about to lose it”. Iii chuckled against your skin, biting the side of your breast, your hands grabbed onto his head, the strands of blond hair tangled around your fingers. “Show him”, iii mused pulling back, making you whine from the lost contact. “Show me what?”, ivy urged, hand already down his underwear as he palmed himself softly. “Or should I?”, iii asked, pulling you off his lap, so you would face ivy once more. Bending your knees before pulling your thighs apart, the silk bunching up in waves around your waist. “Fucking hell”, ivy threw his head back at the sight. “Looks pretty doesn’t it”, iii slowly reaching out, fingers spreading the wetness around your pussy. “The whole night”, iv grunted, “y/n”. You couldn’t answer as iii slowly dipped his finger into you, making you moan out, “Ahhh, iii… please”, you buckled your hips up. “Maybe call out Ivy’s name, help him cum while he watches, hmm”, iii mused against your ear. “I want to fuck her not watch”, iv grunted. “This is more fun”, iii mused against your chest. Moving his fingers inside you as he once again wrapped his mouth around your nipple. You arched your back, eyes glued on iv spreading pre com onto his cock as he jerked off. Both of you moaned out until a harsh knock sounded on the door.

“Guys you’re in here”, ii voice cut through the now dead silent room. “Fuck”, iv cursed, pulling his pants back up. “Motherfucker”, iii grunted, pulling the straps of your dress up as he licked his fingers clean, “Coming”, he shouted, as he helped you sit up. “I sure was hoping to”, iv grunted trying to hide his boner. “We brought food”, Vessel added from the other side. “On it, can’t find the key”, iii shouted, giving everyone a look over before, moving towards the door. Leaving you and iv to stare at each other, chests still raining and falling unevenly.