#and walked in with the lights off and tried to sit down
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livebeforeyoulearn · 6 hours ago
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All of Me Is for All of You
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Warnings: angst?? smut, 18+
Word count: 3.7k
Request (tweaked it slightly hope you don’t mind!)
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Alexia and you are the perfect pair. Sure, there are arguments now and then, what couple doesn’t have those? But deep down, it feels like fate brought you together, like you were always meant to be. You met through mutual friends and clicked instantly, the kind of connection people dream about. Now, years later, your lives are so intertwined that it feels like you’ve become part of each other’s world in every possible way. You wouldn’t call it codependency, but sometimes it feels that way. When she’s away for games, the days stretch unbearably long. But when she’s home, when she’s in your arms, just there, everything feels right with the world. A glance, a touch, a shared silence is enough. You are hers as much as she is yours, and that kind of belonging is rare.
But there’s one shadow on your happiness; her ex, Jenni. It’s not the fact that they dated, that’s ancient history, water under the bridge. What gnaws at you is what Jenni did to Alexia. When Alexia finally told you the whole story of why they broke up, you couldn’t hold back your anger. You don’t just dislike Jenni – you want absolutely nothing to do with her, to keep her at arm’s length for eternity. Alexia, always the diplomat, tries to downplay it, brushing it off with a casual shrug. But you know better. You can see the flicker of pain in her eyes when she talks about it.
Even now, Alexia and Jenni are close. Too close, maybe. You remind yourself it’s not about jealousy. You trust Alexia, and you know they’ve been through so much together, things most people wouldn’t understand. Still, when you watched them during the World Cup, practically joined at the hip, something in your chest tightened. But Alexia explained it all to you. The federation’s mess fucked with them all, and they needed to come together, to be there for each other to survive it. You wanted to believe her, and for the most part, you did. After all, Alexia is your person, and you’re hers.
Your pinky links with Alexia’s as you walk through the restaurant doors. The noise of clinking glasses and overlapping conversations fills the air as she guides you through the crowded tables, weaving effortlessly until she spots her friends gathered at a large table near the back. Smiles and greetings are exchanged, hugs shared, and soon you’re settling into seats near the end of the table, side by side.
The evening starts off perfectly. The food is delicious, and the conversation flows effortlessly. You’ve always enjoyed being with Alexia’s friends, they feel like family, a circle you’re grateful to be part of. Laughter bounces around the table, stories are shared, and everything feels light and easy.
Then Patri, seated directly across from Alexia, changes the tone with a single question. “Alexia, did you hear from Jenni? Is she coming?”
“Yeah, she said she could make it,” Alexia replies with a small smile, taking a sip from her glass.
The words catch you off guard. Your mouth parts slightly as your eyes dart between the two women. “Coming to what?” you ask.
Alexia doesn’t look at you. Her expression remains carefully neutral, her eyes fixed on the table as she avoids your gaze. You glance at Patri, silently hoping for clarification. Unaware of the feelings building inside you, she answers, “The vacation! Jenni’s joining us for the trip.”
The revelation hits hard. You sit up straighter, pulling away from the relaxed posture you’d had moments ago. Alexia already knows she’s in trouble – you can see it in the expression on her face. And then it clicks; she’s known this for a while.
It isn’t Jenni’s presence that angers you most – you could have tolerated her, ignored her, and still managed to enjoy yourself. What hurts is that Alexia knew and chose not to tell you. She didn’t give you a chance to talk about it, to process it together. You could have reasoned with her, but she robbed you of that chance.
Alexia leans back in her chair, her fingers nervously toying with the rim of her glass as she waits for your reaction. When it doesn’t come right away, she slumps further, clearly anxious. She thought she could let this slide, brush it off as “not a big deal” and deal with it later. She was wrong.
Patri senses the mood changing. Though she doesn’t directly address the tension, she changes the subject and starts talking more in-depth with Alexia about Jenni’s travel plans. At first, you try to tune out the conversation, not wanting to let your irritation show in front of everyone. But Patri presses on, unknowingly unravelling the truth.
“When did Jenni confirm? I thought she wasn’t sure about her schedule,” Patri asks, leaning forwards.
Alexia hesitates, her response slower than usual. “She told me a while ago. She just wasn’t certain at first.”
A while ago. She’s known for weeks, maybe even months. Your mind starts to spiral. If she didn’t tell you about this, what else has she been keeping from you? Was she afraid of your reaction? Or worse, does she not trust you enough to have an honest conversation?
By the end of dinner, you’re barely holding it together. You mumble quick goodbyes, eager to escape the suffocating weight of your thoughts. Alexia follows you out of the restaurant, her steps hesitant, her silence heavy.
The walk to the car feels longer than it is. When you climb inside, you buckle your seatbelt, cross your arms, and stare out the window, avoiding her entirely. Alexia slides into the driver’s seat, closing the door softly. She buckles herself in but doesn’t start the car right away.
“Please, don’t be like that,” she says finally, her voice almost pleading as she rubs her temples.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” you mutter, shaking your head as she starts the car and backs out of the parking space.
“I wasn’t hiding it. I was going to tell you,” she says firmly, though her tone is careful, her eyes flicking towards you nervously.
“Oh, sure. When? When we’re boarding the plane? Or maybe when she’s already sitting next to you on the beach?”
“You’re being so dramatic. It’s not a big deal. We’re just friends,” she says, her voice rising slightly.
“Dramatic?” you snap, turning to face her. “You deliberately didn’t tell me something you knew would upset me!”
“Why are you making this such a big deal?” she counters, her frustration evident as she glances at you.
“Because it is a big deal! But, of course, my feelings don’t matter, right? As long as you and Jenni are happy,” you reply bitterly. You clench your jaw, your gaze returning to the window.
“That’s not fair,” she says sharply, her tone demanding as though her words alone should convince you to drop it.
“What’s not fair is you keeping things from me!” you fire back. “You knew how I’d feel, and you still didn’t say a thing. Not one word!”
“Because I knew you’d overreact like this!” she snaps, her grip tightening on the steering wheel.
You scoff, choosing to ignore whatever else she has to say. The fact that she chose to hide this from you is a betrayal you can’t quite shake. You’re partners, communication should be the cornerstone of your relationship, the one thing you could always count on. You thought she trusted you enough to talk about things like this, to be open and honest no matter the circumstances. The anger that first surged through you has ebbed now, leaving behind a more painful ache. It’s not just the omission that hurts; it’s the way it feels like she didn’t think you could handle the truth. 
When you arrive home, you unbuckle yourself quickly and, in a petty flourish, slam the car door shut. You know how much it annoys Alexia, that’s precisely why you do it. After the night you’ve had, she deserves to feel a sliver of the irritation that’s inside you.
“Don’t slam my door,” she calls after you, her voice clipped. You ignore her, heading straight for the elevator. The doors nearly close on her, but she slides her hand between them just in time, glaring as she steps in beside you. “This is ridiculous,” she mutters under her breath.
“What’s ridiculous is me finding out about your secret vacation plans. At dinner. With your friends!” Incredulity laces your voice.
“It wasn’t a secret. I told you–”
“Nothing! You told me nothing, Alexia,” you cut her off. 
“Because I didn’t want to deal with this exact situation!” she counters, her tone rising, her words bouncing off the elevator walls.
The elevator pings open, and you step out, “Well, congrats. Now you’re dealing with it. You have no one to blame but yourself.”
Alexia, helplessly trailing behind you, starts rambling, her voice rising with excuses you have no patience for. You ignore her completely, the words flowing out of her like nonsense that you can’t be bothered to absorb. As you dig through your pockets for the keys, you can feel your frustration heightening with each passing second. It's a perfect, almost satisfying moment when you finally find them and stand in front of your door.
Once it swings open, you make a beeline for the kitchen, the need for a glass of wine urgent. Alexia follows you, naturally. As much as you love her and her presence, right now, all you want is some space. But you know her too well. She won’t give you that, not until this is somehow resolved.
You grab the wine bottle and twist it open, holding the glass in your other hand, your fingers lightly cupping its base. As you tilt the bottle, the deep red liquid pours smoothly into the glass, filling it just enough to satisfy your need. The bottle returns to its place, and you bring the glass to your lips, taking a deep breath before you sip.
Behind you, Alexia exhales audibly. You turn, shooting her a glare, your patience already thin. She inches closer, the gears turning in her head as she processes your silence. Her eyes narrow before that damn smirk slowly spreads across her face.
Does she think this is funny?
You lower your glass slightly as she steps closer, but when her hand reaches for it, you pull it out of her grasp and take another sip, just to spite her. Her smirk widens at your defiance, her dark eyes sparkling with something teasing. 
“Are you… jealous?” she asks, her voice lilting with amusement.
“Jealous?” you repeat, incredulous. The idea offends you. How could she think this was jealousy? All you wanted was respect and trust from your girlfriend. “What the fuck? No. Why would I be jealous of Jenni?” 
Her voice raises again, her smirk disappearing, “If you’re not jealous, then why are you so mad about her coming? You blow everything out of proportion. Every single time.”
“Because when you’re around her, it’s like I don’t exist. All you care about is Jenni, Jenni, Jenni, and did you forget what she did to you?” The words come out before you can stop them.
Her hands find your hips, the heat of her touch seeping through your clothes and silencing your words. Your mind stumbles, the argument dimming as your cheeks burn under her gaze.
“You are jealous,” she murmurs, her voice steady as her thumbs brush over your sides, ignoring the question.
“No, I’m not,” you protest, but your voice falters, betraying your doubt. A nervous gulp follows, and she hums, the vibration visible in her throat as she leans closer.
Alexia knows you, maybe even better than you know yourself. What if she’s right? What if this ache in your chest isn’t just hurt or betrayal but jealousy you’ve been too stubborn to acknowledge?
“I’m yours. You’re mine. That’s all I want in life,” she says softly, her voice breaking through your spiralling thoughts. One hand reaches for the glass, and this time, you let her take it, watching as she places it on the counter behind you. Her gaze locks with yours again. “There’s no need to be jealous. She’s nothing compared to you.”
Your heart beats in your chest like a moth under a dome of glass. The way she looks at you is intoxicating and you can’t find the will to look away.
“So show me,” you whisper, your voice is barely audible. Her face hovers close enough for you to feel the warmth of her breath against your cheek.
She isn’t gentle when she leans in to kiss you; her lips latch onto yours with fervent intensity. She’s hot and she’s messy. Her urgency shows with the way her hands roam over your body with a sense of desperation, as if she’s discovering you for the first time and cherishing you like it’s the last.
Her fingers grope at your chest before sliding over your shoulders and down your back, settling on your ass, where she gives a firm squeeze. Then, without hesitation, she lifts you. You instinctively jump, wrapping your legs tightly around her waist and your arms around her shoulders, one hand cupping the back of her head to keep her impossibly close.
She carries you blindly towards the bedroom, her movements hurried as if every second counts. Your mouths remain fused, the connection deepening as her tongue slips past your lips, licking into your mouth with an eagerness that takes your breath away. You gasp softly in surprise, parting your lips further to make it easier for her.
When you reach the bedroom, she throws you onto the bed roughly, her chest heaving as she steps back to take you in. Her eyes, dark with lust, rake over you while her tongue slides along her bottom lip. She looks at you as if she’s cataloging every possibility, silently deciding how to make you feel everything – loved, wanted, needed, hers.
“Get undressed,” she commands, her tone brooking no argument.
Your heartbeat pounds in your ears as you quickly comply, unsure of what might happen if you didn’t. As the last piece of clothing falls away, you recline on the bed, your eyes never leaving her as she moves to the drawer where you keep your things.
She strips off her remaining clothes, the sight leaving you breathless.  When she steps into the harness, pulling it up over her toned legs and adjusting it around her waist, your mouth goes dry. Each second of her not touching you feels torturous, your craving for her becoming unbearable.
She starts making her way back to you, your eyes drawn to her toned torso and the perfect curve of her breasts.
Instinctively, you press your thighs together, the ache between them becoming too much to ignore. As she crawls onto the bed, you lift your knees slightly, seeking some kind of relief. But she’s quick to act, placing her palms firmly on your knees and forcing them apart. The sudden motion has you gasping, though the sound is swallowed as her lips crash against yours.
The kiss is intense and demanding. It’s all teeth and tongues colliding, lips biting, and breaths mingling in a heated clash for dominance. Your head sinks deeper into the pillow as her hands trail up your thighs, her fingertips gathering the evidence of your desire and spreading it deliberately along the tops of your thighs. Her lips curl into a smirk against yours, her confidence radiating as she revels in how easily she can unravel you.
She pulls back slightly, her teeth catching your bottom lip and releasing it with a snap. Before you can catch your breath, she finds a heartbeat to put her lips to in the crook of your neck. Your head tilts back, granting her access, and a needy whimper escapes your throat. 
A finger slides through your core, teasing your entrance before gliding upwards to begin harsh, tight circles on your clit. You moan, her name escaping your lips like a whispered mantra, repeated again and again in the air.
Your hips start to buck in response, but the sensation isn’t enough, you need more, all of her. “Ale, please,” you gasp. She grunts against your neck, nipping at the bruised, sensitive skin before lifting herself slightly, leaving a sting in her wake. She runs the toy through your slickness, coating it before pressing the tip teasingly against you.
“What do you want?” she asks, a smirk tugging at her lips as her eyes meet yours. The control she wields over you is absolute.
“You,” you breathe.
She bites her lip, tilting her head slightly.
“I need you inside me,” you plead, knowing it’s exactly what she wants to hear. “Please, Alexia.”
Her smirk widens, dripping with pride, before she pushes the tip inside. The stretch is intense, your body adjusting quickly as she didn’t take the time to prep you with her fingers. Her thrusts begin slow but quickly build in rhythm, and before long, the entire length fills you with every movement, driving deeper each time.
Alexia’s hands move to your breasts, squeezing them firmly as her gaze stays locked on your face, watching you arch into her touch. Your head falls back, your eyes shut tight, your body radiating pure bliss.
She grunts with each thrust, her hips snapping against yours in a perfectly timed rhythm. You match her movements, rolling your hips to meet her, the sensation intensifying with each stroke. That familiar tightening in your stomach grows stronger, signalling your impending release.
Just as you’re about to tip over the edge, she stops. You let out a breathless whine, eyes flying open to meet her steady gaze. Slowly, she pulls out and settles beside you. 
“Get on top,” she orders.
“What?” you stammer, momentarily confused, until she takes your arm and helps you up. Your legs tremble as you straddle her hips. Her hands steady you as you position yourself, the toy poised at your entrance, before you lower yourself down.
“Ride me like I’m yours.” 
The words alone almost draw a moan from you. Her hands glide over your thighs, squeezing lightly, before moving up and around to your ass. She grabs hold, helping lift and guide you as you begin to bounce along her length. Your own hands find purchase on her thighs behind you, bracing yourself as your hips set a heady rhythm.
Her expression is intoxicating, a sight you want permanently etched into your memory. Her eyes are heavy-lidded, her lips swollen and kiss-bitten, her head tilting slightly as if she’s losing herself in the connection between your bodies. A moan builds in her throat, but she traps it behind her teeth, biting her lip as she tightens her hold on you and urges your movements faster.
“Fuck, Ale, oh my god,” you gasp, leaning forwards and pressing your palms against her abs for balance. Your nails dig into the defined ridges of her muscles as she begins to meet your pace, her hips rolling into you. 
At first, the pace remains controlled, giving you time to adjust to the sensation of being on top. But soon, her hands find your waist, her grip firm enough to promise marks tomorrow. Then she takes over completely, thrusting into you with an intensity that makes you cry out.
Her movements become relentless – harder, faster, deeper than you thought possible. It’s primal, raw, and consuming, her strength evident in every powerful thrust as her legs and core drive her into you.
“Don’t stop,” you manage to moan, your voice catching in your throat. “Please, don’t stop, Ale.” Your head tilts back, eyes squeezing shut as the familiar tension builds in your lower stomach, the knot tightening with every thrust. Your back arches prettily, drawing Alexia’s gaze to your chest. She aches to lean up and take your nipples into her mouth but instead drinks in the sight of you, undone and lost in her touch.
“You close, mi amor?” she rasps, lost in desire.
“Yes, Ale, so close,” you whimper, your moans growing louder, more desperate, a sound that defies words.
“You wanna come?” she asks, her tone teasingly questioning. You hum in reply, nodding weakly. “Go ahead, amor,” she murmurs, her voice softening unexpectedly, catching you off guard.
Your fingers curl, nails digging into her skin and leaving crescent-shaped imprints as you cry out her name, your voice breathless and broken as wave after wave crashes over you. She holds you down firmly, not letting you move as she keeps rolling her hips, guiding you through the peak.
It’s powerful, stealing every coherent thought, leaving you lost in ecstasy for what feels like an eternity before it begins to ebb and you regain awareness of your body.
Her knees provide support against your back, her thumbs tracing soothing patterns on your skin. She sits up, brushing strands of hair away from your face before burying her head in your neck. Her lips trail tender kisses along your skin, your collarbone, shoulder, jawline, and just beneath your ear, before finally returning to your lips.
Your breaths come heavy, but your arms instinctively wrap around her shoulders, pulling her closer.
“I love you, and only you, mi amor. All of me is for all of you,” she whispers against your lips.
You lean in to kiss her again, then she rolls you onto your back, positioning herself once more between your legs. 
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infevious · 2 days ago
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WISH YOU WERE SOBER
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sum: confessing to him when you’re drunk
pairing: kinich x gn reader
contains: drunken confession, slight mention of his backstory
a/n: i was listening to “wish you were sober” by Conan Gray and thought of this, this is my first fic so uhhhh enjoy 😀😊⁉️ i have not written a fanfic since middle school and im high asf rn so it might be bad LOL might be ooc
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This party's shit
Kinich sat around while everyone else was celebrating, he saw how you drank bottle after bottle. It hurt to see someone he cared about so deeply drink, it reminded him of his father, who he hated. But he couldn’t hate you, even if he tried.
wish we could dip, go anywhere but here
After a while you sat next to him, he didn’t want to come; he came for you. You excitedly asked if he was going to the celebration your tribe was having, he only agreed because he knew you would be there.
Don't take a hit, don't kiss my lips
You were awfully clingy when drunk, an equally drunk mualani had to pry you off her. You did the same to him; trying to hug him.
“I love you so much thank you for being my friend!” you cried
friend.
That’s all he was to you, just a friend.
And please don't drink more beer
He took the bottle away from you, he didn’t want you to be sick in the morning. He rolled his eyes as you reached for it, whining.
“Just a little bit~ Come on! It- it won’t hurt..!”
“You drank enough for tonight”
But this is definitely not my crowd
He didn’t really talk to anyone from your tribe besides you and (whoever else is in your tribe that has interacted with him), but he made an effort to come. He poured what was left of the liquor onto the floor and left the bottle on the crate he was sitting.
Take me where the music ain't too loud
Even though you were drunk you could tell he wasn’t comfortable.
“I want to take a walk”
“A walk? Right now? You’re not in a state to even speak properly, much less walk.”
“…Can you take me home?..I’m tired”
He watched as you said goodbye to your friends but couldn’t help but feel jealous. The way you hugged everyone so tightly, you never hugged him like that. When you would they would be quick, barely holding him, or maybe even just a side hug.
Trip down the road, walking you home
“Let’s go trouble magnet”
He put an arm around your waist holding you up so you wouldn’t fall, you could barely walk and he was annoyed, sad even.
“The stars are so pretty”
“It’s really hot..”
“Woah look at the moon!”
He was getting tired of your endless sentences. He couldn’t understand how you could be such a heavy drinker. Was it a coping skill? He went through a lot and never thought about picking up a bottle. Did you enjoy the feeling? He wouldn’t know, he always swore to never try it. He didn’t want to end up like him.
Pullin' me close, beg me, "Stay over"
“Can you spend the night? P-please?”
He looked down at your drunken state, eyes half lidded, cheeks red; you looked so beautiful. He was always confused on how you were never like his father when drunk, you were always smiling, laughing, dancing, the complete opposite of him.
But I'm over this roller-coaster
He listened to you talk about whatever popped up into your mind, he turned to look at you after you’ve been quiet for some time. You were just looking at him, his lips.
“This- this is a dream right..?”
He looked at you confused, dream? Where did that come from?
“Sure, yeah this is a dream”
He didn’t think anything of it, were you going to tell him an embarrassing memory? A secret no one else was supposed to know? Or- no. You would never..
He looked at you, the moon light making you look almost angelic. He noticed you looking at his lips and then his eyes.
“If this is a dream then i can…”
Time felt like it stopped.
Did you just- kiss him?
You pulled away, whispering an ‘I really like you’ before passing out almost immediately. He just sat there, a million thoughts rushing through his head. What the hell just happened? He looked down at you and noticed a small smile.
Real sweet, but I wish you were sober
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latenightdaydreams · 2 days ago
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Christmas Party w/ König
MDNI🔞
Master List✍🏽
>cw:fem/afab, drinking, p in v, public-ish sex
🎅
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König loses a bet with Horangi and comes into work dressed as Santa Claus during the small Christmas party being held in the common room. While everyone is sitting around and eating food while chatting, a heavy silence falls upon the room when König’s heavy footsteps disrupt the festivities. 
In the doorway he stands with a scowl hidden beneath his cheap Santa beard. It’s the most anyone has seen of his face before, the only reason everyone knows it’s König is because of his massive size. The silence is disrupted by Horangi’s loud cackles; one arm wrapped around his abdomen as he points with his other hand. 
“You look so fucking stupid!” Horangi nearly falls off of his chair. 
König says nothing just walking in with a velvety sack over his shoulder. He walks up to Horangi and simply pushes his head to the side in anger. “Shut up.” He hisses. 
You sit there giggling softly. König notices, blushing softly. He clears his throat trying to push down the butterflies he always gets when he’s near you. Walking past you, he sits on an empty chair and leans back. 
Most people in the room go back to their small conversations, but you, with the courage of heavily spiked eggnog, stand from your seat and make your way over to König. He looks up at you with a surprised look on his face. Before he can say anything to you, you sit on his lap and place an arm around his shoulder. 
“Hey there, Santa.”
“Hallo…” König’s voice cracks as he looks into your glimmering eyes. 
Horangi looks at you sitting on his lap with astonishment. 
“Am I on the naughty or nice list this year?” You ask giggling. 
That giggle. 
“You…” his eyes unintentionally drop to the curve of your breasts, “are on the nice list.” 
“Am I?” You reach out and tug on his beard, lightly letting it snap back against his face. 
“Ja…”
König can feel his cock beginning to grow erect as you wiggle on his lap slightly. The side of your leg rubbing against the crotch of his red Santa pants. His heart thumps in his chest as he tries his best to act unaffected by your presence. 
“That’s a shame. I wanted to be on the naughty list.”
“Why would you want that?” He asks, chuckling slightly. 
You giggle at the sound of his nervous chuckle. The light in the room makes his pale blue eyes shimmer in yours. His cock twitches slightly, bumping your leg and causing your attention to drift downwards. 
“Maybe I wanted Santa to punish me.”
“Punish you?”
“Punish me.” You lean closer to him as you speak, the smell of the alcohol on your lips wafts to his nose. 
König stands, grasping the plump flesh on your ass and hips, fingers digging in, as his hips ram into yours at a quick pace. His red pants dropped and resting around his ankles. Your loud drunken moans fill the room as your breasts bounce free from your blouse.
“Naughty girl.” König growls as his wide palm comes down to spank your ass, leaving a red mark in its wake. 
“Fuck yes! Punish me with your fat cock!” You cry out as you feel the stinging burn from the slap. 
“Perfect fucking ass…” Is all you’re able to understand before König begins to speak in German. Telling you how long he’s been wanting to feel you wrapped around his cock, see you underneath him. 
A smile crosses your face as your body feels as if it’s floating on a cloud of pure ecstasy. You can feel yourself drop down the side of your leg each time his cock pulls out before pulling a pathetic moan from you once he buries himself back inside of you. Your head turns to look at him, the Santa beard barely even in his face, exposing his scarred handsome face. His eyes meet yours and he simply smirks before grasping a handful of your hair and forcing your face down. 
Outside the door Horangi and a few other soldiers stand with jaws dropped and looks of shock on their faces. The sound of the creaking desk, flesh on flesh, and orgasmic pleasure pour out into the hallway where they stand.
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moonlitwitchdaisy · 2 days ago
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Boyfriend!Sukuna was definitely not a shy man.
As someone who had tried every possible way to embarrass him, neither your actions nor your words ever worked. Every time, he’d look at you with the same seriousness—or even mild annoyance. Did you truly believe you could make him blush? It was ridiculous. There was no way someone as towering and unshakable as him would ever feel embarrassed to the point of turning red. It was simply impossible.
But for you, “impossible” was just a word.
You were leaning against his broad chest, sitting in his lap, as the two of you watched the snow falling onto the garden from your terrace. Sukuna wasn’t exactly the touchy type, but when you insisted, there wasn’t much he wouldn’t do for you.
“So, you’ve never been embarrassed?” you asked, your gaze fixed on the snow as it blanketed the greenery outside. Your question earned a low grunt from him.
“I was wondering how long it’d take for you to ruin the moment,” he replied, pausing briefly before adding, “Three minutes and forty-one seconds. Congrats, brat, you broke your previous record.”
His words made you laugh so hard your body shook, though Sukuna couldn’t understand what was so funny about his dead-serious comment. You were a peculiar one, that was for sure.
Suddenly, you shifted in his lap, moving to straddle him. His large hands instinctively settled on your waist, steadying you.
Who would’ve thought being held by four hands could feel this good?
As your fingers trailed through his pink, messy hair, Sukuna’s eyes fluttered shut—something he couldn’t help but do whenever you touched his hair. It always brought him an unexplainable calm, a sense of peace he found nowhere else.
“I’m good at breaking records,” you teased, a bright smile lighting up your face. Sukuna didn’t open his eyes, but you caught the faintest upward twitch of his lips—a rare, fleeting moment of softness.
“I can see that. You surprise me more and more every day, you cheeky brat.” The crimson eyes that most people found cursed and terrifying locked onto yours, though you found them utterly irresistible. While he’d never admit it, seeing you smile made everything in his world feel a little brighter.
Slowly, he leaned in, nuzzling his head against the soft curve of your neck. His lips found the sensitive spot behind your ear, and he planted a gentle kiss there, letting his teeth graze your skin ever so slightly.
“Just one touch…” His warm breath sent shivers down your spine. “One single touch is enough to turn your neck red. I’d bet your cheeks are even redder than your neck right now.”
He was right. Your cheeks were undoubtedly burning like wildfire. You knew your face had turned a shade rivaling a clown’s red nose.
“Kuna—”
“I want you right here.” His deep voice resonated through you. “Watching the snow while I bury myself inside your warm, tight little pussy.”
If you stayed like this any longer, everything he said would probably happen. You were already sore from last night. Besides, it was Christmas Day, and you wanted to do something other than just have sex with your boyfriend.
With great difficulty, you pulled his massive head away from you. If he wanted to stop you, he could have, but if he did, he’d probably have to endure you complaining to him for two hours.
Still holding his head, you scolded him, “Nuh-uh. Last night you nearly broke my back.” Furrowing your brows, you let go of his head and stood up. “I’m going to make us some hot chocolate, and don’t even try that ‘I don’t like sweet things’ excuse. I know who ate the Oreo Milka I bought two days ago.”
As you walked off the terrace toward the kitchen, you called out loudly, “Be a good boy, Sukuna, and maybe I’ll let you have me on the terrace later.”
Magic words didn’t always have to be “please.” After all, the word “please” didn’t even exist in Sukuna’s vocabulary. But if he had to pick one magical phrase, it would undoubtedly be “good boy.”
Those two words were enough to make your supposedly unshakable boyfriend blush furiously and feel his heart race in his chest.
It wasn’t the first time you’d called him “good boy,” but every time you did, he somehow managed to hide his face, avoiding your gaze.
Boyfriend!Sukuna who made others kneel at his feet, who inspired fear with his towering figure and unmatched strength, could turn into a shy mess with just two simple words from you: “good boy.”
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a little note: can i get a little commotion for my red ribbon divider 😌
all rights belong to the @moonlitwitchdaisy do not copy, reproduce, or translate my work.
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therealmylesmorales · 1 day ago
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What Do I Do?
Summary: Caitlyn called you…but you weren’t supposed to hear that.
Warnings: toxic situation relationship, alludes to smut (minors fuck off or you will get blocked), don’t know if there’s others. Modern!au, we don’t do that crybaby shit over here
Notes: I wrote this all in one sitting while drinking so if there’s any mistakes or anything, don’t talk about it
WC: 1.0k
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You were at home, lounging on the couch with your favorite show playing on the TV. It was a Sunday evening, the sun was just about to set and you had no classes for the day and decided to spend the rare day by yourself.
Realistically, you would rather have one other person with you but she hadn’t responded to you at all since early morning.
Unfortunately, that was pretty common for Caitlyn; she had her phone on either DND or was just busy altogether. It did get on your nerves a lot of the time but Caitlyn always took your mind off of it whenever you two were together; she always gave you her full attention and you never doubted anything when you were with her.
The only thing that irked you about the taller girl was her lack of wanting to further the relationship. Whenever you tried to broach the topic of finally becoming exclusive after almost seven months, Caitlyn brushed you off or completely changed the conversation. Most times it did lead to arguments that led the both of you staying silent for almost a week until she ended up coming back like nothing happened.
You’ll have to force her to have that conversation one day so the weird grey area you were in would finally clear up.
It was only a few minutes later when your phone rang.
Cait 💜
You couldn’t help but smile at the contact name and eagerly answered.
”Hey, Cait. I was just thinking about you—what’s up?”
She didn’t respond.
“Caitlyn? Hello?”
There was a slight rustling sound on the other end. You stayed quiet incase you could hear anything.
After a few seconds of silence, you finally heard a soft voice.
“Fuck…”
You paused, making sure you heard correctly. If you were right, then Caitlyn was enjoying her own solitude in a different way and wanted to tease you into coming over.
But…something seemed off.
You continued to listen, seeing if anything else could be heard. And soon enough, something else came through.
At first, it was Caitlyn. “Oh, f-fuck. Don’t stop.”
Then the next noise made your blood run cold.
“Yeah, feels good doesn't it, cupcake? You gonna cum for me?”
“No fucking way,” you muttered to yourself. The light blanket that was laying on top of you was suddenly thrown off of you as you raced for the closest pair of shoes you could find.
She wouldn’t—Caitlyn wouldn’t do that to you. That wasn’t like her, was it? You weren’t sure if you believed those words, as much as you wanted to. But on the whole drive there, that was the only thing going through your mind.
You soon found yourself standing outside of her door, the spare key that was hidden inside of her outside plant in hand as you hesitated. Your heart was thudding to the point where you were sure it could be heard from other people. You weren’t sure what was waiting for you on the other side of the door but you couldn’t wait a moment longer.
The door carefully swung open; the living room was clear but there was noise that could be heard from down the hall, towards Caitlyn’s room. Your steps were quiet as you walked closer to the cracked open door.
There was a girl with pink hair laying halfway on top of Caitlyn, who was eagerly pulling her closer, giving her almost desperate kisses. Caitlyn, however, seemed to be enjoying it, thanks to the hefty moans that were coming from her. It was the sounds of the door opening further that gained their attention.
Immediately Caitlyn pushed the other girl off of her, resulting in her tumbling to the floor. A head full of pink jumped up while Caitlyn could only look at you with wide eyes.
“Hi?” The girl said, confusion heavy in her voice. “Are you Caitlyn’s roommate? Sorry, we were being too loud?”
She didn’t seem bothered in the slightest that the only thing that was covered of her was the lower half of her body by a pair of boxers. Yet still, your main focus was Caitlyn, whose eyes were quickly flickering between the both of you.
”Roommate, Caitlyn?” You hissed. “Are you serious?”
”So, no to the roommate then?”
”We’re together! So, no. I’m not her roommate.”
She could only blink at you. “I’m…sorry? What?”
“Y/N, what are you doing here?” Was the only thing Caitlyn could say at the moment.
You waved your phone at her, showing the call log you received from her not even an hour ago.
”I wasted seven months on you, Caitlyn.” Your voice was tighter, either from anger or sorrow, you couldn’t tell which one. “Almost an entire year, you were—what, with other people?!”
”Person, one, her,” Caitlyn corrected, reaching for her silk robe that wasn’t far from her. “I’m allowed to see other people seeing how we’re not together.”
”Exclusive or not, loyalty just means shit to you, right?”
You could see Caitlyn roll her eyes. “I don’t owe you loyalty. You’re being overly dramatic on technicalities.”
“Technicalities? What—“
“Wait, wait. You have a girlfriend?” You then remembered the third party that was still in the room; she seemed to have snapped out of the stupor she was in. “What the fuck, Cait—you said you were single!”
”Because I am!” She yelled. Cait then turned to you. “We are not together. I don’t know how many times I have to keep telling you this. We’re nothing!”
You sucked in a harsh breath, refusing to tell the tears that were collecting fall. “You’re right, Caitlyn. We’re not together. We are nothing, and we will continue to be that. Go fuck yourself.”
Caitlyn looked surprised at your words. Out of anything, that was the last thing she suspected from you. As you moved to leave her apartment, you could hear her trying to grab your attention once more before Vi intercepted to yell out her own words.
The strong facade lasted until you got into your car. You just settled down into your seat when the tears finally started falling.
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wndaswife · 1 day ago
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Love & Loathing: The First Christmas | Series Masterlist
The holidays feel lonely without your friends and family. Wanda faces her first Christmas after her divorce and miscarriage. The two of you build your first tradition.
Word count: 2635
Tags: some angst, light manipulation, foreshadowing of future toxic relationship as seen in main series, writing this after already writing the main series reminded me of emily im sorry by boygenius! sad!
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Wanda’s cart came to an abrupt stop when a young child suddenly ran away from his mother to the other side of the aisle, passing in front of her without warning. Her orange juice lurched forward then fell onto her carrots. 
The child’s mother quickly came over, scolding her son for running in front of a moving cart as he begged her to buy rainbow chip cookies for Santa, oblivious to the fact that Wanda and her full cart were still standing idly behind him, unable to skirt around.
“I’m sorry,” she apologized after giving in to the rainbow chip cookies once her son apologized to Wanda too. He went to place the package in their cart. “Holiday shopping makes them a little wild too, I suppose.” She laughed like she was telling her an inside joke.
Them, like a proper noun.
“Children, yes,” Wanda conceded with a small nod and a smile. “I understand. But rainbow chip is a great pick. Very considerate of Santa’s tastes.” She looked over at the young boy who waited for his mother patiently, then seemed bashful when he made eye contact with Wanda. 
Wanda then noticed the woman’s eyes flicker down to her left hand, barren of a wedding ring, and then to her cart, empty of what a mother would shop for her children for. Wanda dropped her left arm to her side, suddenly feeling uncomfortable.
After finishing up her grocery list, she strolled back down the cookie section and picked up a package of the rainbow chip cookies. As she walked to the checkout line, she ran her eyes across her cart — orange juice, the Pillsbury cookies you liked, eggs, milk, bagels, your favourite ice cream flavour, some things for the washroom, baking ingredients for a recipe you’d been wanting to try, some snacks, fruits and vegetables, and the rainbow chip cookies.
She put her left glove on first, then her right, then started to place her things on the conveyor. 
“My kids have been in a baking craze since they got off school,” the cashier told her as she bagged her flour, then her vanilla extract. “It must be the season.”
Wanda looked up from her wallet then smiled. 
“Mine too,” she said.
When she arrived at home, you were sitting at the dining table on your laptop. It was nearing the end of the semester, so you still had a few more final assignments to finish. You stood and helped Wanda unload the groceries.
“Hi, baby,” she greeted once all the bags were on the counter. She reached and placed her palm against your furthest cheek, pulling you in for a kiss on the temple.
“Hi,” you answered with a smile, putting some things away into the fridge. “Did you get the Pillsbury cookies? You saw the holiday ones, right?” 
Wanda handed you the milk. “I did. There were only the snowmen.”
“That’s fine. I just wanted something that was Christmas themed.”
The rainbow chip cookies came out last. Wanda had never tried them, and it wasn’t on the shopping list, and you hadn’t asked for it before. She handed them to you as you stored some things away into the cupboards.
“Do you like these? They were on sale,” she suddenly lied.
You took them from her, eyes running over the package. Then you set it on the counter with a contemplating hum as you peeled it open and looked inside. “Oh, I do like these. I last had them when I was really young.”
After dinner, you resumed working on your laptop, cuddled up beside Wanda on the couch as she flipped through Netflix for something to watch. She had a glass of white wine in hand and an arm around your shoulders, fastening the shared blanket around your body.
You’d been trying to apply for some jobs lately; after declaring a temporary leave from college starting next semester, you wanted to start working a little to make some income and keep yourself busy. You were hoping for something part-time and very casual.
The gold Christmas lights Wanda had hung up around the fireplace and curtains glowed warm, enveloping the living room in something gentle and festive. There wasn’t any other light on aside from the stovetop in the kitchen, so the laptop screen felt particularly intrusive.
“What are you working on?” she asked, putting her phone down and looking down at you from the rim of her glass as she took a sip.
“A final essay. It’s pretty overdue.”
Wanda eyed the tabs you were switching between. “Overdue? Online courses not working well?”
“I thought it might be better for me but…” you trailed off, your fingers pausing atop the keyboard. Your index finger tapped ever so slightly against the E key, just enough to make the plastic sound against the board.
“Is something on your mind…?” Wanda asked, setting the remote down. She craned her neck down and brushed her nose against your cheek.
Your fingernail traced the top edge of the D key. “It just feels like I’m always behind. I keep trying to change things around so maybe I might find something I can finally get accustomed to — online courses, a lesser course load.”
Then, quietly, you added, “My friends don’t even ask to study with me anymore. I know I declared a leave, but...” 
The Christmas lights reflected against Wanda’s glass, and against the pale golden hue of her wine, it looked like she was drinking champagne, slightly flat. 
She set the glass on the coffee table then carefully closed your laptop, allowing you to remove your hands from the keyboard. She placed it down, closed, beside her wine. Instinctively, you curled up and leaned your head against her chest, and Wanda wrapped both arms around you, one hand coming to cradle the side of your head.
Before she could say anything, you said, “They invited me out to the Christmas market downtown a few days ago.”
Something tightened in Wanda’s stomach and she looked down at you, but your face was covered by your hair and some of the blanket which was wrapped around her arms. 
“Really? You didn’t tell me,” she said. 
“I know. I’m sorry. I didn’t know what to say at first.”
“Say to whom? To them or me?”
“I don’t know…” you muttered quietly. “Both.”
Wanda’s hand tightened around your shoulder. You buried your cheek against her chest, feeling like she was holding you tighter against her. Instead, Wanda felt tense; the idea that you could feel about her in any similar way that you did for your friends made her feel like she was just as disposable and temporary.
“Did you go…?” Wanda asked, trying to keep her voice from sounding strained as she feared the answer might be that, yes, you did make plans and see other people in your life without telling her.
If your feelings of uncertainty were the same between her and your friends, and you ended up seeing them and not telling her, wasn’t that the same as you picking them over her? Leaving her behind like some afterthought, only to come up later when you felt a little insecure about something?
You shook your head, and Wanda took a breath through her nose, tension in her lungs dissipating. Then you lifted yourself from her chest and reached for your phone. Wanda pulled you back against her when you leaned back, but now your head was on her shoulder instead of her chest so you could both look at your phone screen together.
You showed her a picture on Instagram of your friends together at the market. 
“I’m sorry, honey,” Wanda said, brushing her nose against your temple then kissing your cheek. “But you wouldn’t have really enjoyed yourself if you were with them, would you?”
“I don’t know…” you mumbled, eyes still on the screen, obviously not really caring what she was saying, and still feeling rather down about it.
Wanda bit the side of her tongue a little at your passive insistence that you still cared about the fact that they hung out without you. “Baby, you always say that you don’t really feel like you fit in when you’re with them. Don’t you say that…?”
“Yeah.”
“And what did we do that day, anyway? We went shopping for decorations, right? And got dinner? Wasn’t that much more fun?”
You nodded and looked up. 
Wanda felt her breath hitch and snag in her throat when you met her eyes. She swallowed, wondering what you might be thinking when you looked at her like that. 
“I… I’m really happy we’re spending the holidays together,” you said quietly. Your phone dimmed then locked, the image of your friends forgotten. 
Her lungs filled with air and her expanding rib cage pushed gently against your upper arm.
“Me too, Y/N.”
A warm hand cupped your cheek, smooth fingers brushing against your soft skin. She looked over your face in great detail. 
When the thought came over her, wondering what similarities you held in comparison to your mother and father, Wanda looked away. She reached over to get her wine glass then settled back against your side.
You leaned your head on her shoulder and Wanda rested her chin on top of it. 
“Any movie you’d like to watch?” she asked, combing her fingers through your hair. 
You reached for the remote and turned on the TV. 
Early the next morning, you sleepily padded downstairs to see Wanda setting up the Christmas tree in the living room. She was still in her pajamas, but she had a sweater on and her hair was clipped back. 
When you stepped off from the stairs, Wanda turned around to greet you with a smile. She outreached an arm for you to come over and give her a hug. 
Wanda thought you were rather light on your feet; you would sometimes sneak up on her when you’d enter a room. It was a stark contrast to Vision, who was quite tall, and seemed to always walk with the frustrating burden that he’d woken into another day, living the same life as he did the day prior.
It was the recollection of painful memories like that, ones where you’d no doubt see her as a spineless, empty woman, that made Wanda all the more confident in her decision to keep truths about Vision from you. She wanted to be someone different, and better.
You walked over and wrapped your arms around her waist, tucking your head under her chin before she kissed your forehead. 
“You started putting up the tree without me?” you asked, lifting your head and looking up at her.
“Oh,” Wanda replied, turning her head to look at the tree. She had only just started with the ornaments, and the cardboard box she stored the tree in was still on the floor.
She looked back down at you.
“You want to help?”
You nodded and pulled away from her before digging through the box of ornaments to begin decorating. “You shouldn’t ever decorate a Christmas tree alone unless you’re actually by yourself.”
Wanda smiled at your boldness as she watched you from behind. She pinched your side playfully, causing you to flinch away. She wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you into her, pressing a kiss to your neck and causing you to giggle.
“I’m sorry,” she said, “I didn’t know.”
“It’s okay,” you replied. Then you shooed her away so you could continue with what you were doing. 
Wanda hadn’t ever decorated with anyone else; Vision wasn’t very festive, and when she was younger, her family often travelled for work, leaving her and Pietro to celebrate alone with the company of their neighbour who watched over them.
Their neighbour was a strict elderly man who didn’t speak much English and slept most of the time, whose dialect was that which only their parents understood, and was never taught to Wanda nor Pietro. Her memories of Christmas as a jointly-celebrated holiday was reminiscent of bitter black tea, imported from her neighbour’s hometown overseas, and television on its lowest volume in the late evening, playing old holiday sitcoms.
“My parents and I got in a fight a few days ago,” you said suddenly, still hanging up ornaments.
Wanda looked at you as she adjusted the position of some of them she’d put up earlier. She thought for a moment before responding, “Is everything okay?”
“It’s okay,” you answered.
You’d been having a hard time with your parents the past few months. They were upset you’d taken a temporary leave from your schooling without consulting with them first, they were upset you’d been spending so much time with someone they’d never met, and they were upset that you hadn’t been speaking with them.
You still had a large sum of money left from when you worked more often than you attended classes, and so you were rather glad not to rely on them for any financial support, not that you often spent money while being at home with Wanda.
The change, according to them — and according to you, too — had seemingly come out of the blue. But, still, you could pinpoint when it started.
After meeting Wanda, all you wanted to do was run away from things. You wanted to run from your parents, who’d always babied you and never gave you your own choice in anything, and from school, and from your friends, and from the world.
To word it more accurately, you’ve always wanted to run away from things. 
And Wanda let you. 
She took you away and kept you safe.
You hung an ornament on the tree, and instead of leaning down to take another out of the box, your arms stilled at your sides and you looked down at the floor. 
After a moment of silence while Wanda was busy reaching up to hang an ornament close to the top, you asked quietly, “Is it okay if I spend Christmas with you…?”
Looking up from the floor, you met Wanda’s eyes.
Wanda felt her breath hitch at the sight of you looking at her that way — expectantly, patiently, like what she said mattered to you a great deal. She leaned down and placed the ornament back in the box. She stepped towards you and wrapped her arms around your shoulders. “Of course, baby,” she answered quietly, speaking against the side of your head. “Let’s stay home for the holidays — just the two of us.”
By next week, your gifts for Wanda were wrapped and stored under the tree. You mixed them in along with the ones she’d gotten for you, so you could see them altogether.
Wanda was still at work, staying a bit later tonight, so you went out to walk through the Christmas market downtown on your own. You saw a beautiful jade hair clip that you thought would look perfect on her; you imagined the shade of green tucked within the brown of her hair, bringing out the green in her eyes, and her delicate fingers wrapping around the handle to clip it in.
Wrapped in a small box, you crouched down and placed it on top of a gift Wanda wrapped for you.
When she came back from work, Wanda found you dozing on the couch in the living room with a blanket draped around you. You were bathed in the gentle light of the Christmas tree that you’d put up together.
She quietly put her things down before approaching your delicate sleeping figure. She crouched down and carefully brushed your hair out of your face, and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “I’m home, my angel,” she whispered softly, a smile growing on her face as she watched you awaken slowly.
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diwtara · 3 days ago
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Sanjis love life can be summed up as a series of one night stands.
Thats never the way he wanted it to be though
He dreams of love, of a real connection, of building a home.
But it seems everytime he finds someone, all they want to do is fall into bed with him, then ghost.
He would almost convince himself that hes just bad at sex, but sometimes one of his ex's will text him, make it clear theyre not looking for anything serious just another 'fun night'.
So hes not a bad lover, just unlovable
He hates himself for everytime he agrees to meet back up with one of them. Eventually, when being seen as no more than a warm body begins to wear him down, when it begins to hurt to much to continue on, he will block that persons number, vow not to fall back into such a self destructive pattern.
Until he does.
Over and over.
When he meets Luffy and his friends, well, its not the type of love Sanji has always been searching for, but with them theres a connection and its real.
And from Luffy, Sanji meets Zoro. Their friendship may be unusual, but its there. Its there with their shared looks of exasperation at Luffys antics, its there through their bickering, its there in their shared silences.
Until Zoro goes and asks him out.
Sanji is pre-emptively hurt by this. He thought they got along -in their own unique way- but now he knows Zoros just going to be another person to take a tumble in his sheets, then forget about Sanji entirely. Maybe take all their other friends with him when he leaves.
Still, Sanji says yes. As painful as it will end, as it always ends, Sanji knows he wont ever get what he longs for if he doesnt grasp at any chance hes shown.
They go on a few dates. Zoro is not the most romantic person by any standard. But they have fun, they talk, they get lost, they get to know each other.
Its the fourth or fifth date when after walking Sanji home Zoro says goodnight, makes a face, darts in to smush their lips together, says 'goodnight' again and takes off at a brisk pace. It leaves Sanji standing stunned for a good minute. When he wraps his head around their first kiss he cant help but laugh fondly over how adorable and awkward Zoro can apparently be.
Its a few more dates after that when Sanji starts to get antsy. Zoro has never pushed for more, theyve only shared a few chaste kisses, but Sanji knows. He knows either he sleeps with Zoro and he loses him. Or he doesnt sleep with him, Zoro gets bored and Sanji loses him.
So after their next date Sanji brings him home. Bring Zoro to his room.
Its intense.
Zoro watches him, studies what Sanji likes. Makes himself vulnerable too.
Sanji has never had sex like it before, cant imagine having an experience like it with anyone else.
And in the morning Zoros still there. Snoring away beside him.
Sanji knows that that doesnt have to mean anything.
He cooks breakfast and Zoro wanders into the kitchen half asleep. But Sanji knows, once Zoro has some food, once hes a little more awake, the man will leave.
But he doesnt.
They spend half the day together, Sanji spending it in a confused daze.
They go out on more dates.
Zoro holds his hand in public.
Presses a kiss to Sanjis temple and only waves off their friends teasing when he does.
Its the morning after the third time they spend a night together when Sanji finally breaks down.
The early morning light is soft through his curtains. Zoro is snoring spread out beside him, and Sanji, sitting up, starring at him, bursts into tears.
Zoro wakes up confused, tries to ask whats wrong, but Sanji is sobbing too hard to explain. Not that Sanji would even know what to say.
So Zoro wraps his arms around him, pulls Sanji in close. Rubs soothing circles on his back and tells him "I've got you. I've got you."
And thats when it hits him.
Thats when Sanji knows; Zoros planning on staying
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Pairing Fem.Reader-x-Ben (Soldier Boy)
A little bit of story, A whole lot of smut
Warnings Smut, Language, Drinking, Dom[ish] Ben, Light BDSM[ish], Reader being bitchy, Ben being an ass, Smidge of violence, Oral Both Receiving, P-I-V, Unprotected Sex (wrap it before you tap it) Rough Sex, Light Choking, Biting, Cuming inside.
Please do not copy my work
Comments, Likes, Reblogs, Kind feedback. always highly appreciated.
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“So, are you gonna suck his dick or just think about it sweetheart?” Ben asked arrogantly from the backseat of your beat-up SUV.
“Oh, Benny boy. You don’t need to concern yourself with whose dick I put in my mouth.” You matched his tone.
“Just need to know if I have to get my own room tonight.” He took a long drag off his cigarette. “And maybe another pussy to please.”
“Good luck with that.” You challenged raising your brows “Butcher looks like he can give a pretty mean dick.”
He leaned up to your ear, His hot breath sending shivers down your spine. “I bet he can’t make you cum like I can.” He whispered, firing up your core. You inhaled deeply, striving to regain your composure.
He quickly leaned back in his seat as Butcher opened the passenger door. He sat down and looked at you. “You alright over there, love?” Billy asked lighting up a cigarette
“Never better.” You told him as you pulled out of the gas station. As the journey went on, a strange silence filled the air between you. You tried to steal a glance at him in the rearview mirror. He gave you a cheeky wink when he caught you which only added to the tension. You pushed the accelerator down.
“We in a hurry?” Butcher asked as the engine roared.
“Just trying to get there.”  You could feel Ben’s eyes in the mirror, you kept yours on the road.
The silence was driving you crazy. You had never been so happy to see a shitty motel. You parked the car and hopped out. “I’ll get the rooms.” You told them, shutting the door behind you.
Coming back to the car you handed Butcher their room key and took your bag out of Ben’s hand. “I can get it, thanks though.” You heard him huff, but you didn’t turn back.
“You’re on a different floor?” you heard Billy ask as you started up the external staircase.
You shrugged. “That’s all they had left.” He gestured to the parking lot. All the spaces were empty except for the one occupied by your car. “Take it up with them, not me.” you continued to your room. You just wanted a break from him, and his stupid snide comments, his absurd cocky attitude, his smartass tongue, that knew precisely how to work your clit to send waves of ecstasy through you, his stupid soft hair that always tickled as he did it. Fucking stop you thought, shaking him out of your head.
You walked out of the steamy bathroom, almost jumping out of your towel when you found him sitting on your bed. “What the fuck Ben?”
“You didn’t answer your door.”
“That doesn’t mean fucking break in,”
“You could have been dead.”
“Ok I’m not. So, fix the door on your way out.” You gave him a fake smile.
“Would you like me to send Butcher up here while I’m at it?”
“No need I won’t be here.” You smirked at him
“And where the fuck do you think you’re going?” you shrugged. “Out.”
“You do know Homelander is looking for you right?”
“So sweet of you to care, but I doubt he’s checking middle of nowhere towns.”
He rolled his eyes and walked out, slamming the door behind. “Dick!” you yelled after him You heard the echoes of his laughs bounce back through the still broken door.
Billy and Ben followed closely behind you as you crossed the street. “Is this really necessary?”
“Yep.” Ben said, quickening his step to walk beside you. “Is that slutty low-cut top really necessary?”
“Yep.”  You repeated his words, the corners of his mouth twitched up just for a second.
For a small town the bar was lively. Mostly ranch hands, and high-school kids buying booze with their fake ids. You walked up to the bar and ordered 3 shots of whiskey. The bar tender took your money and sat the filled shot glasses on the bar. You slapped Ben’s hand away when he reached for one. “Order your own.”
“And here I thought you were being nice for a change.”
You laughed. “You should better than that.” You knocked back the shots one after another. You got the bartender’s attention and ordered 2 more. He filled the glasses as you handed him more cash. Ben’s eyebrows raised as you slid one of the shots in his direction. You held your glass up and he tapped it with his. You took the shot and turned around, leaning back on the bar.
“So should I start looking?” His voice haughty
“She’s cute.” You pointed to a blonde bimbo with her tits hanging out. “And she looks easy.”
He smirked. “Maybe.”
“Oh, look she has a friend.” You said with fake cheer as her friend sat beside her. “Make you could get a two for one special.” You turned back to the bar rolling your eyes. You got the bartender’s attention and ordered another. Ben tapped his shot glass and paid for both. “Thanks.”
He took his. “You know you’re cute when you’re jealous. Sweetheart.”
“I’m not jealous. Just trying my good friend Ben a find a pussy to please.” you retorted. You took your shot and made your way to the dance floor.
You could sense Ben's gaze piercing through the crowd as you moved your hips to the rhythm of the music. Stopping in the middle of the crowd, you turned around and locked eyes with him as you sensuously rolled your body. His eyebrows arched with intrigue. A charming, muscular guy wearing a cowboy hat made his way toward you.
The cowboy eyed you up and down. “You lookin’ for a partner little missy?”
You looked over at Ben. His lips pressed in a hard line now. You smirked at him. You looked back at the cowboy. “Sure. Why not.”
The cowboy spun you around and pulled your body back to him. You rolled your hips grinding your ass against his groin. You leaned completely back on him as he rolled with your body, raising your arm you wrapped around his neck. You glanced over at Ben. He was on the edge of the dance floor now, a scowl on his face. You puckered lips out and pushed them out toward him.
His nostrils flared as the cowboy ran his fingers up and down your midsection pulling you closer. The cowboy leaned his face to your neck. Trailing kisses to your shoulder.
The cowboy spun you around again, so you were face to face. The cowboy rolled his hips, making his bulge grind on your core. He pressed his lips against yours.
You felt a hand wrap around your wrist. “That’s enough. Let’s go!” Ben demanded as he pulled on your arm, careful not to hurt you. What the hell has gotten into him. Ben never got jealous. Well, I guess you never really tried to make him jealous before.
 You twisted your hand and pulled out of his grip. The cowboy got in his face. “Hey asshole. She’s with me now.”
Ben chuckled. He looked past the cowboy. “You’re with him now?”
“That’s what I said.” He bumped Ben chest with his own.
Ben put his finger up. “Don’t” he warned.
“I ain’t scared of you motherfucker.” The cowboy bumped into his chest again
“I said.” The cowboy cut him off with a shove. You could see the glow through Ben’s shirt. Fuck.
You pushed the cowboy out of your way. “Ben.” He stayed silent glaring at the cowboy as the glow got a little brighter. You cupped his face with your hands and angled his face down. His eyes stayed on the cowboy. You stretched on to your toes, “Ben.” still nothing. The glowing got brighter. You crashed your lips on his. Praying that this would stop the nuclear bomb from going off. As he started to kiss you back, he wrapped his arms around your waist. Pulling you into him. Your hands slid around his neck.
He groaned into your mouth as you shoved your tongue through his lips. His hands found your ass and squeezed hard. You can feel the temperature of his chest cooling.
“You good?” you asked.
“Yea.” He softly replied.
“You wanna leave?” He nodded, releasing his embrace.  He spun around and grabbed your hand as he started toward the door.
“Yea that’s right bitch! Walk away.” The cowboy yelled.
Ben stopped. You pulled on his arm. “Ben, come on.” He took a deep breath, “Please.” His expression softened at your plead, and he continued walking.
As soon as he passed the threshold, he pulled you back against him. Your pulse quickened as his hand slid up your neck and shoved your face to meet his gaze. His hand wrapped around your neck as his hungry lips captured yours, making your core ignite with excitement. His other hand made its way up your shirt, sliding under your bra he started kneading your breast vigorously, making you moan into his mouth. His fingers moved to the hem of your shirt, you raised your arms as he pulled it over your head. His lips were back on yours as he unclasped your bra. Your nipples hardened as the cool air hit them. You felt the smile on his lips and next thing you knew you were face down on the bed.  
“Bet you thought you were real fucking funny back there huh?” He snarled, you heard the screeching as he moved the desk chair. “Shaking that ass on him like that.” And then a small bang as he pushed it against the door. “I don’t even know why you would waste your time.”
You felt the bed shift as he knelt behind you, a sting on your ass as he slapped it. Grabbing your hips he brought you up on your hands and knees. “You know, No one can make you feel as good as I can.” A small gasp left your lips as he crashed his groin against you. His hand clasped over your shoulder and started thrusting against you, his hardened shaft smacking into your center making it thrum with desire. He pulled on your shoulder bringing you back against him, he unbuttoned your jeans and then slid his fingers under your panties groaning when he felt how wet you were for him. you moaned as he started a circular motion around your clit. “No one can make you as wet as I can.” He whispered.
You felt a low rumble against your back as he pushed two fingers inside of you. You sighed with pleasure as he began to rhythmically slide them.  As the pace of his fingers intensifies, so too does the rhythm of your breath. He curled his fingers hitting that sweet spot delivering waves of bliss through your body. Your walls start to tighten on his fingers as you start to reach your peak. He withdraws his hand. “Not yet sweetheart.”  
He turned you to face him, keeping you on your knees. With a kiss he grasped the back of your thighs and pulled them out from under you. you gasped as your back bounced on the mattress. His hands grabbed the waist of your jeans and your panties, you lifted, he threw them across the room. He nudged your knees open, shivers rand up your spine as the cool air hit your center. He stroked his fingers up and down your folds, you let out a moan as he shoved his fingers in you again.
He lowered himself, his mouth hovering over your inner thigh, a whisper of warmth against your skin. You rolled your hips, feeling the sharpness of his teeth as they skimmed your skin. “No one.”  His beard left a trail of goosebumps as he inched closer to your core. “Can.”  He stopped, and you felt the graze of his teeth once more. “Eat.”  He bit the skin right next to your lips causing your walls to clench around his fingers.
“This pussy.” He pulled his hand back, leaving his fingertips inside, adding a third he slowly slid them back in, as deep as they would go. As you moaned fuck, a deep a growl slipped from his mouth.
He flicked your clit with the tip of his tongue, drawing a moan of his name from your lips. You glanced down at him. His lips twisted in a mischievous smirk, his eyes sparkling as they gaze into yours. "Like I can," he teased, his attention returned to your core as he inhaled deeply taking in your sweet aroma. Then he dove in, he moaned as he tasted your sweet juices. He sucked your clit into his mouth, sending waves of pleasure coursing through you. A breathy moan of his name escaped your lips as his teeth grazed it, sending shivers of pleasure through your body.  as he worked his tongue on your clit as he pumped his fingers. “You wanna cum?”
“Yes” you moaned.
 He chuckled as you became puddy in his hands. “Tell me.” his tongue flicked your clit again.
“Ben please.” You moaned
“Come on sweetheart you can do better than that.” Another flick.
“Please, Ben. I wan, want you to make me cum.”
He gave you a wicked smile and then his tongue went back to work. Sloppily lapping at your clit. He curled his fingers upward hitting that sweet spot again as he continued to with his tongue. His fingers slid faster and faster, pushing you closer and closer. Your fingers clenched his hair as the coil got tighter and tighter, “B, Ben don’t stop.” Your moans filled the room, getting louder as the coil was about to burst. Your walls pulsed around his fingers as your orgasm surged through your body. His fingers slowed, helping you ride it out.
He rose to his feet and pulled his shirt over his head. He motioned you over with a single finger as he unbuttoned his pants.  As he pointed toward the floor in front of him you recognized his requests and eagerly complied. “You gonna let me fuck that pretty little mouth of yours?” He asked as you knelt in front of him. You nodded, looking up at him. Your hands slid up his thighs, he lifted his head and moaned softly as you caressed his hard shaft through his jeans. You unzipped his pants and pulled them down. Unleashing his thick, throbbing cock.
He let out a low moan as you gradually took him into your mouth. His hand twists into your hair, revealing his impatience. You pulled your head back when he started to thrust forward, teasing him. A growl escaped his lips, and his grip on your hair tightened. He starts to move his hips again, this time you stay in place. Tears welled in your eyes as you fought your gag reflex once he reached your throat. Another moan escaped his throat as he started sliding his cock in and out of your mouth. “Fuck.” He moaned as you tighten your mouth around him. He groaned in between pants as he sped up the pace. Grabbing your hair with both hands he bucks one last time and you feel his warm cum ooze down your throat. His body shivered as you bobbed your head one more time, savoring every last drop.
He effortlessly lifted you and tossed you onto the bed. The instant your back hit the mattress, he was on top of you, his lips hungry for yours again. He positioned himself at your entrance and thrust deep without warning. Giving your body no time to adapt to his size he withdrew his cock and slammed it back inside you, the room filled with your loud moans as pleasure and pain collided within you. Leaning down, he whispered in your ear, “No one can fill this pussy like I can,” You let out a soft moan of his name as he starts pumping in and out of you, each movement sending shivers of delight throughout your body. He rose to his knees, a moan leaving him as he pushed deeper inside of you.
You could feel the tension building in your stomach again as his rigid cock filled you, hitting your g-spot as he pumped in and out of you. You praised him with a moan of his name as your walls clenched around him. “You gonna cum for me again baby?” You replied with a moan of his name. His muscles flexed as he pounded harder. His green eyes gazed into yours and the coil busted. Waves of ecstasy coursed through your body once more. With one loud groan and a deep plunge into your pulsating walls Ben found his release. He collapsed on top of you as heavy pants echoed through the room. His hair tickled your chest as it moved with your breath.
His head rose once he caught his breath, resting his chin on your chest. You noticed the green in his eyes was brighter than normal as they locked on yours. "No one.. will ever love you like i do."
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spiderb00 · 7 hours ago
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CINDY LOU WHO
Daniela Avanzini X Reader 
“You didn't think about the consequences of your actions, and consequently, you didn't think about how Daniela's heart would be after all this” 
Genre – angst as fuck Warnings – Reader is an asshole 
fruitcake masterlist
Now playing – Cindy lou who, by Sabrina Carpenter 
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Daniela was paralyzed, sitting on a bench in the park with her phone in her hand. The phone screen displayed a photo, which a news Instagram had posted, the image was clear, probably taken by a professional camera of some photographer. The first photo showed you and your ex Jenna Ortega, walking hand in hand on the streets of New York, laughing at something very funny, and for a moment, Daniela was afraid to scroll to the next photo.   
Taking a deep breath, the Latina ran her finger over the screen, her breath getting caught in her ribcage and her world slowly collapsing. You and Jenna, kissing, near the various Christmas decorations, which were now making Daniela nauseous. Tears began to well up in the blonde's eyes, and she wanted to throw her phone into the water fountain that was in front of her.   
A month ago, you and Daniela had fallen apart. No matter how hard the Latina tried, she thought she would never make you happy like your ex, but that didn't stop her from trying.   
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"Where are you going?" Daniela asked, holding the sheet on her chest, leaning on her elbow and looking at you wearing your clothes. 
"I'm going home, I mean, your friends are coming and I have to work tomorrow." You said, buttoning your pants and sitting on the bed to tie the shoelaces of your sneakers.  
With a slightly worried look, Daniela sat down lightly, crawling to the corner of the bed where you were sitting, letting the sheet fall the Latina hugged your waist, putting her chin on your shoulder.   
"You don't have to go, Manon is at her girlfriend's house, and the girls don't mind having you here. I don't have work tomorrow, you can stay and I can make you breakfast." Daniela said, starting to get excited about the idea of you spending the night.   
"Dani, don't make this what it isn't." You said, letting go of the younger woman's grip and getting up to get your jacket. "You know this is not a relationship."  
 "What? Is it bad that I want to do something for you?" Daniela replies, you could tell she was about to cry with your words.  
"You already do enough." You said, still without looking at her.  
"Oh yes. I let you fuck me, sure, how did I not think of that before?" Daniela said, her cutting voice dripping with sarcasm. "You know what, it was a mistake to call you tonight." The Latina stood up, wearing the clothes you had taken off a few hours ago. 
"What's wrong with you? We both agreed that this would be just casual sex." You said, approaching Daniela, only for the shorter woman to move away from you.   
"No, you decided that on your own. You know what, you can come to me when you want to stop using me." Daniela said, throwing your car keys on your chest, walking towards the bedroom door and opening for you, a silent request to leave her alone.  
With a snort, you shook your head negatively, staring incredulously at the Latina in front of you, before passing her and heading away. 
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Daniela didn't know what she had done wrong, she didn't know why you loved Jenna, why you went public with Jenna, why you had a relationship with Jenna, while you hadn't done any of that with her. The Latina felt lost, the red and green lights were now all blue, just like her.   
After the incident, you and Daniela had exchanged some messages, she had fallen again, asking you to come to her house and forget about all that fight. She didn't care if you weren't going to stay afterwards, she just wanted to feel your warmth one last time. She remembered the messages, it all seemed so vivid in her mind.   
You refused to go to her that night, you said you were discovering yourself, searching for your soul, going after your way, you told her you were getting lost in Los Angeles. Now she understands why you were so happy, you found yourself.   
Looking at the photo once again made Daniela want to throw up, the Latina's stomach churning in a bad way, and she thought it best to lock her phone screen before she had a public crisis. Feeling a hand on her shoulder, the Latina looked over her shoulder, seeing Sophia's hand and the rest of the Kats standing behind her with looks of compassion. And when the tears began to run down her eyes, Daniela thought it best to get up and go to the car.  
"'is the season, i guess." 
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That's kind of small because I hate writing angst, but I found it interesting.
I think this is my first fic that doesn't have a happy ending. I'm sad for Daniela, but the requests I have for her are very cute, so they will make up for it.
xoxo, spider.
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amphitriteswife · 23 hours ago
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Next level
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Tagging: @yue-yolk
Warnings: Nsfw
Note: shit post
Pairing: Jaegyeon na x reader
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Jaegyeon gripped his steering wheel tightly. It was late in the night, yet no sign of the city dying down. That’s Incheon for you, always busy and full in swing. He drove along side the busy streets, flashy bright lights along the roads and the sight of the night clubs coming out from their hiding spit emerged in his vision. He sighs. He hated you, has he ever told you that? You’re so irresponsible. You always act to high and mighty around the other kings. You fight so well and conquer every city you can. You can have it all yet you chose not to just because it takes too much work? And what do you do instead? Party. You party and drink, you meet some guy and flirt, or not. Jaegyeon parked his car far away from the busy red light streets. He doesn’t want anything to happen to Initial N after all. His hand twirling the keys around his fingers while he walked up the street. He doesn’t even know these clubs. They’re probably all boring anyway. Why do you go to these places? You can do so much better. He let out another sigh before walking down the stairs to the club. The hostess by the stand already pointing to your booth. His steps feel heavy. The dim light and loud atmosphere is making him a little irritated. He could see your silhouette from the distance. Lace dress, high heels, make up, loose hair. You’re always so different than when you fight. You’re cold, mean, strong and business like. But now, seeing you in a booth with other girls and boys, laughing while you drink some cheap alcohol one of those randoms bought you, the way you laugh at them. It seems so strange. Yet it’s not new to him no matter how many times he has seen it before. It’s always the same old song with you.
He looks at you, then your table, then the others at the table and back at you. You tell them you have to go and the people in your booth all whine, telling you you can stay a little longer, have another drink, it’s all fun. You tell them no in a half joking voice and grab Jeagyeon by the arm. You cling to his side and he guides you to his car. He talks to you once again. His hands on your frame to keep you from stumbling, you flirt with him, forgetting that the two of you hate each other’s guts. You say you’re cold and lean into his body, your hands brushing over his chest and shoulders. Your sweet voice fills his ears telling him everything he wants to hear from you. You tell him a bunch of lies. Well, maybe half lies. He tries to get you to sit in the car and buckled your seatbelt then walks to the driver’s seat, after Jaegyeon takes his own seat he already noticed that yours is off again, he watched you comes closer to him and sit in his lap. He sighs for the 3rd time that day. He holds you by the hips again and tells you no. You lean into his face and kiss him, he lets you kiss him. He lets you suck and lick his lips. He lets you open up his mouth to let your tongue slide in. He allows it and kissed you back, he knows he shouldn’t, but he’s still doing it. You grab his shirt and pull it off his body, he breaks the kiss and lets you sit in his lap while he drives you to the nearest yet best hotel he knows. He once again books the same room, same floor, same number, same service he always gets when he’s with you. He guides you to the room, you pull him into the bed, he obligates and pulls up your dress. You undo his pants and let it fall to the ground, he gets on top of you and you giggle. It’s always the same. The same thing you have been doing for some years. He kissed you once again. You kiss him back. The bed creeks. The voices are loud. The time is forgotten, the hate is not there. His breath is ragged. Your hair is disheveled. It’s not love making. It’s far from it. It’s just something the both of you do. You’re not lovers. Not even friends. Just some fuck buddy. You call, he picks up, you kiss, he kisses back. You tell him to go faster, he picks up his pace. He doesn’t remember how many times he did it with you, nor the positions. All he remembers is him fucking you and you fucking him. He remembers the way you kiss him and the way you kiss back, the taste of your spit intertwining with his. Him pressing you against the mattress, he puts up your legs and pounds into you for the millionth time while he moans out your name. He fucks you like you’re his girlfriend, but that’s not what you are. And you kiss him like he’s you’re boyfriend, which isn’t what he is.
Jaegyeon lost his interest in other women a long time ago, but he doesn’t know if the same goes for you. It’s all just raw, passionate and quick sex. It’s not boring, it’s fun. It’s amazing. He loves it. But that’s because it’s with you. Even now when he’s laying beneath you, his hands behind his head while you sit on top of him, your back against his legs and touching his body. Your hands touching his abs and then his chest. He still feels the same way as 4 years ago.
‘Don’t you ever want to be more than just this?’
Is what he asks. You laugh and don’t really give an answer, the two of you fall asleep, then you wake up, then you kiss once again. Then it’s turns into something more before he checks out the hotel and drives you home. The next time he meets you is with the other kings and it’s all back to normal. No word of it or what happened. Back to two people who can’t stand each other and back to two people who stil haven’t confessed only to be stuck in one big cycle.
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sissylittlefeather · 3 days ago
Note
Hi there! I’m not exactly sure how to give links to songs, nor am I sure if I send this other places, but I do have a song I’d like to give for the event! “Your Love’s Been A Long Time Coming”, by Elvis, of course, and my only other request is that you have a good day/night! 💜
12 Days of Ficmas
Day 5: Your Love's Been a Long Time Coming
A/N: Aw thank you so much!!! I'm sorry this one is late. We're still dying of some kind of plague in my house and it's been rather distracting. But here it is!
(Also, as an aside, I have a whole fic series based on this song. If you're interested, find it here.)
Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, smut, oral sex (f receiving), p in v sex, unprotected sex, creampie
Word count: ~1.2k
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You've had one bad relationship after another with men that hurt you over and over again. It's gotten so bad that you've sworn off dating altogether. It's just not worth the pain.
That's when Elvis collides with your life. No, really. He actually collides with you. He rear-ends your car in the middle of the night on your way home from work because you're too broke to get your tail lights fixed. He's ready to read you the riot act until you roll your window down and turn your tear-stained face up to him. When you realize who he is you stammer and apologize and cry even harder, but he's gentle and kind and he makes sure you and your car get home safely. Still, you're pretty sure you've seen the last of him.
But you haven't, not by a long shot. He turns up on your doorstep two days later with a bouquet of pink roses and the keys to a brand new station wagon. You sit on the porch and talk for a bit until he tries to persuade you to go to dinner with him. You're deep into telling him no when your son comes to the door to announce that whatever your mom is cooking is ready to eat. It's a veritable nightmare and you bury your blushing cheeks in your hands.
“What's for dinner, bud?” Elvis asks over you. Your 5 year old son, Benny, replies happily.
“Meatloaf!”
“I love meatloaf. Is there enough for me?” You sit up and shake your head. There's no way you're letting him come into the house you share with your aging mother and young son.
“We always have extra. Come on.” Benny pushes the screen door open and Elvis stands up before you can stop him. You want to sink into the floor as he stands in your tiny, messy living room, but Elvis continues to be gracious and sweet. He puts his arm around your shoulders and pulls you in close to him, whispering in your ear.
“It's okay, honey. I like it. It's nice and homey.” He pulls back and smiles down at you. You're not sure how it happens, but somehow you end up with Elvis Presley at your small dinner table, laughing and chatting with your little family. He and your son bond instantly over cars and football. He even manages a talk with your mother about church music and she blushes and calls him a ‘nice young man’. The conversation is easy and you seem to get along in a way that he hasn't experienced in a while. There's something about you, a simplicity and authenticity, that he can't get enough of. When the night comes to an end, you walk him back out to the front porch and he kisses your cheek and tells you he'd like to see you again. How on earth are you supposed to say no?
After a few more weeks of spending an inordinate amount of time together, you find yourself in his bedroom at Graceland. You know he's married, but that doesn't seem to matter to either of you as he kisses you deeply, his hands on your hips. He starts to move down your neck, pressing his lips to the sensitive skin under your ear.
“Elvis?”
“Hm?” He doesn't stop kissing your neck.
“Why do you like me?” Now he pulls back and looks down at you.
“Honey, I've been dating beauty queens and movie stars for so long, I forgot what a regular woman is like. You're a real person and I like who you are. You make me laugh and you're kind and warm and you don't see dollar signs when you look at me. You're smart and beautiful and you're a good mom. I've been waiting for someone like you for a long time.” You look up at him, your eyes glassy with tears.
“I think I've been waiting for you too.” He smiles and dives into another deep kiss and neither of you looks back. You shed clothing left and right as you stumble to the bed, his hands running over your naked skin. He presses his lips anywhere he can get them and lays you on the bed gently. In a matter of seconds, he has you spread open for him, his tongue dipping into your pussy between hard licks over your clit. Your hand goes to his hair as you whimper and moan and get closer and closer to your climax. He's relentless in his pursuit of your pleasure and you've never had a man try this hard to get you off. He feels your walls flutter and tighten on his fingers and hums, the vibration making you see stars. It doesn't take much longer for you to cum, your pussy throbbing around him as the lightning bolts run in your veins.
“God, you're pretty when you cum.” He whispers as he sits back up, situating your ankles on his shoulders. You bite your bottom lip as he teases your sensitive entrance with the head of his cock. “You ready, baby?”
“Yes, oh yes please!” You whimper breathlessly as he starts to slowly push into you, giving you time to adjust to the size of him. It feels so good, being filled like this, and the pleasure threatens to overwhelm you. When he bottoms out, his whole cock inside you, he stops for a second and groans.
“You're so tight, baby. So fuckin’ tight. You're perfect.” You moan as he slowly pulls back and then thrusts forward, filling you again. “Does it feel good?”
“Feels so good! Oh!” He smiles down at you and kisses your ankle as he starts to pick up a steady rhythm of fucking into you.
“You got such pretty little sooties, baby.” He kisses your ankle again as his hand caresses your foot, his dick sliding in and out of you at an even pace.
“God, Elvis, this is amazing.” You moan as he rearranges your legs to be around his hips. He leans over on top of you and whispers in your ear.
“I want you to stay with me. Not just tonight.”
“But aren't you–”
“That's over. Has been for a while now. I want you, baby, for the long haul. Tell me you want me too.” He holds both of your wrists in one of his hands above your head and runs his fingertips down your body with the other.
“Yes, Elvis. Yes, I want you.” He grips your hip with his free hand and starts to pump into you faster and harder.
“Good. I'm gonna cum, baby.”
“Me too, oh god.” He slams into you hard and deep and you hit your climax simultaneously, both of you pulsing and panting and melting into each other. As your bodies relax and you come down from your shared high, he presses his sweaty forehead to yours.
“I love you, baby. I know it's quick, but I've loved you since I first saw you.”
“Oh, Elvis. It's not quick. This has been a long time comin’ for me. I love you too.” He smiles and rests his head on your chest.
“It has for me too, baby. It has for me too.”
******
The End
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darlingsfandom · 7 hours ago
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I’ve always got you.
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Pairing: AU Cillian x GN! reader
TW: oral(reader receiving) illusions to mental illness, swearing and fingering .
The nights were long, the weather getting colder and everything around seemed to just get worse and leave a sour taste in your mouth. Your head hung low as your hands ran over your face slowly with a grunt falling from your lips before you stepped out of the car and walked up the driveway.
Rain fell heavy from the sky, pounding against the cement while you held onto the doorknob before you pushed it open. To your surprise the living room was lit up by candles surrounding the room, soft music playing in the background and a bottle of wine sat on the coffee table. You slid your jacket off slowly before approaching the scene. Your fingers traced along one of the candles that had melted slightly. A soft hum caught attention, you looked over your shoulder to see Cillian walking holding a plate with some cheese, crackers and various fruits.
“You’re home already? I thought I had a little more time to finish setting up.” He set down the plate next to the wine as you stood there holding the lump in your throat.
“What ? What is all this?” You asked quietly as you felt your heart race.
“I know ya’ve been working hard, a little too hard and dat yer doin it to distract yerself from what’s really goin on in here” his finger tapped gently on your forehead making your bottom lip quiver. A single tear rolled down your cheek before your arms wrapped around his torso tightly. Cillian wrapped his arms around you tightly as he could until it felt like he was squeezing the air out of your lungs. His lips met the top of your head while his fingers drew little circles into your sides.
The feeling of him holding you like this calmed your nerves. He wasn’t wrong though. Cillian knew when you were getting into that dark mindset and did what he could to help you.
“It’s goin to be okay.” He mumbled before slowly pulling away and helped you sit down on the couch. His hand rested on your thigh, his finger tips traced little patterns into the fabric of your pants. “It’s been a long day, let’s get you out of those.” He fumbled with the button of your pants before pulling them off allowing a sigh to fall from your lips. Cillian leaned in and pressed his lips into yours gently. His kiss made you melt every time and this time was no different. Your lips against his, soft , gentle almost like it would be your last.
“So… breathtaking my darlin.” Cillian stroked your cheek with the back of his hand as he pulled away from the kiss. Your eyes focused on his, so full of love , kindness and a hint of lust growing. You tilted your head slightly as he sat up and pulled off his on shirt before helping you get rid of yours. Soon the two of you sat naked surrounded by the candle light, the sweet sounds of the music and pouring rain as background noise making you feel at ease. Cillian poured the both of you a glass of the red wine that was slowly disappearing.
A plump strawberry dangled over your lips as Cillian feed it to you. Juice dribble down your chin just enough that made him lean in and lick it up. A little moan escaped your throat as he did it which made Cillian lay you back on the couch and sit next to you as he kissed the side of your jaw, down your neck and inbetween your chest. The soft warm open mouth kissed left your skin covered in goosebumps as his lips left little love bites in placed only the two of you would ever lay eyes on.
“Let me take care of you.”
You nodded slowly as Cillian got down on his knees in front of you. He had placed a pillow down on the ground for his comfort before he grabbed your knees and spread them apart. Your heart was beating hard against your chest because it had been a minute since you shaved but Cillian never cared. His lips trailed up your plush thighs while keeping eye contact with you. Your fingers ran through his hair keeping you grounded. Your eyes tried to close until you felt a soft bite on your flesh making you yelp!
Cillian laid his tongue flat before licking a long strip your hole making you gasp before a quiet moan followed. He repeated this a few more times, he loved tasting you on his tongue. His tongue switched so the tip was now inside of you while his nose pressed against your pelvic bone. He would give you oral every day if he could.
As his tongue swirled around inside of you, you couldn’t help but rub your own nipples which added to the pleasure waving across your body. Your hips bucked up into the warm air before Cillian snaked his arms around your waist and yanked you back down making you whimper. The little noises you made were music to his ears, well what he could hear since your thighs were wrapped around his head. Cillian devoured you making your toes curl, your fingers pulled on his hair harder making him moan into your core. Cillian pulled away slightly to spit on your hole before diving right back into it.
“Fuck! Just like that!” Your words trembled as you watched him through hooded eyes. His fingers dug into your thighs making sure to leave bruises. The build up of pleasure was swirling in your abdomen as Cillian did a number on you.
“You’re so close aren’t ya baby?” He spoke while licking his lips as he peered up at you with glazed eyes and glossy, swollen lips.
“Mmhmm so close!”
Cillian gave you a soft smirk before his index finger slipped inside of you making your mouth drop open with the perfect “O” shape. He reattached his mouth back onto you while he fingered you faster.
“Oh fuck fuck fuck! Yes!” Your fingers gripped onto the back of his head while you shoved his face further into you as you thrusted your chips forward. Cillian hummed in pleasure as you used his face to get off. “FUCK!” You cried out as your thighs shook around his head. Your orgasm hit you hard making you cry out his name. Cillian swallowed every drop that you released like the thirsty man he is.
Slowly Cillian pulled away licking his lips as you laid flat against the couch covered in a layer of sweat. Your eyes were closed as his lips kissed along your body until he reached your lips.
“Just relax, I got you…” Cillian looked into your heavy eyes as he cupped your face. “I’ve always got you, on your good days and your bad days, I’ve always got you.”
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averygrambsbankaccount · 2 days ago
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Can you write a lyrason fic,they in the grayson's birthday please.
yes sure! I decided to combine this request with this one and also change it a bit (oops!)
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(yes I know I did spin the bottle instead of drink or dare) (im sorry that it’s bad)
spin the bottle!
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Lyra and Grayson weren’t exactly dating, at least not in a way that the definition of the word dating covered. They tiptoed around each-other, sneaking longing glances, and maybe one or two more stolen kisses. Or three.
If Lyra was honest, she’s a bit tired of the game. Maybe she does just want Grayson, the arrogant asshole he is, to be her actual…boyfriend.
Grayson’s birthday party wasn’t planned by him, which was obvious if you’d ever met him. His hatred of people would have never allowed something like this. Clearly, his brothers had planned this as some kind of cruel joke on him, and now he had to stand there like a puppet in his thousand dollar suit and greet everyone they invited to the party.
Honestly, Lyra was pretty happy about her invitation. The party was actually fun. She’d never been to a rich person party before, and it was certainly something else.
Maybe the most fun part, though, was watching Grayson stand there uncomfortably, his strong shoulders stiff and his back as straight as a ruler. He greeted the weird rich people who walked past him into the surrounding area, full of fairy lights and tables and food. Whoever had designed this backyard pool type party was a genius.
Lyra sat at a table by herself, sipping some weird rich people drink she assumed had alcohol in it but wasn’t entirely sure about, and she watched the blonde Hawthorne pretend to be a people person.
It’s funny how he tries to hide his awkwardness, she thought.
Someone slid into the seat across from her, and it was none other than the Hawthorne heiress, holding a champagne flute. Her brown hair cascaded down her shoulders and she looked dazzling as ever.
“You should go over and talk to him, you know,” Avery said, looking down into the depths of her drink.
“And why would I do that?” Lyra crossed her arms and leaned back in the cushioned outdoor chair. Man, these things are comfortable.
“Because you like him. And he likes you. And this forced birthday party is a really good chance to make him less uptight.” The heiress took a sip of her champagne and wiggled her manicured eyebrows.
“No way,” Lyra picked at her nails. “…Do you really think so?”
It was no secret that Avery and Jameson and most other Hawthornes and Hawthorne adjacents shipped Grayson and Lyra, but Lyra wanted to hear confirmation from the girl sitting beside her.
“Totally!” Avery leaned forward. “Do you see the way he looks at you?”
Lyra bites her lip. “Yeah.” She says, but quiet enough that it’s possible Avery didn’t hear.
“Just…give it a shot, Lyra.” Avery stands and walk back towards Jameson, who’s talking to Xander by the pool.
Lyra takes a deep breath and one more drink of her maybe alcoholic drink and stands to walk towards the stoic blonde.
I can do this. I can do this. Lyra played encouraging messages on a loop in her brain.
“Grayson.”
“Lyra.” He turned to her, the barest of smiles on the corners of his lips, but that was often the best you could get out of Grayson Hawthorne.
“I-“ Lyra cut herself off, realizing she didn’t actually know what she was going to ask.
Her eyes scanned the area around them, landing on a group of younger attendees playing spin the bottle on the grass. Lyra wasn’t a particularly crazy party type person, but she did enjoy taking risks from time to time.
A smirk appeared on her face. “Come here, Grayson.” She grabbed his arm and led him over the group.
“Could we join, please?”
“Yeah, sure!” A girl in beautiful designer gown that was definitely getting grass stains at the moment said without looking up. When she did, she seemed absolutely shocked at the man standing with Lyra. “And…him, too?”
Lyra couldn’t blame her; no one would expect Grayson Hawthorne to play spin the bottle.
“No, no.” Grayson backed away shaking his head. “Sorry. There must have been a misunderstanding.” He gave Lyra a glare.
“Sorry, he’s shy.” Lyra smiled sweetly at them, then turned to Grayson.
“Could you please, please, please, please play?” She put her best puppy dog eyes, the ones she had only ever used on her mom for extra dessert. “For me?”
She didn’t give him a choice or a chance to respond. She simply dragged him to the ground beside her, in the empty space left in the circle and said “We’re playing.”
If Lyra could have taken a picture of Grayson’s surprised face in that moment, she would’ve framed it and hung it on her wall.
She gripped onto his hand as tight as she could, her knuckles going white. She would not back down, she’s gone too far. If she doesn’t commit, she’ll be just as much of a coward as she was before Avery convinced her.
Grayson kept trying to pull away, but she refused to give in.
The bottle was spun in the middle of the big circle. It landed on two random people, two more random people, and then…Lyra.
Her breathing sped up. I did not think this through, did I?
This might be the day Lyra becomes a devout worshipper, because only God could have given her the luck it required to have the bottle spun again and land on the man beside her; Grayson Fucking Hawthorne.
Lyra didn’t want to waste time, but she did stall a bit while turning to him. Even though they had kissed before, she was still inexplicably scared. 
Her courage came in remembering Avery’s words. She liked him and he liked her, and she could make this mean something.
She grabbed his face and kissed him to the sounds of the group cheering them on. He was silent before, but his lips were anything but. Grayson kissed her back fiercely. He kissed her like no one else was there.
When Lyra pulled back, she giggled, and she looked over to see Grayson having that familiar almost-smile on his face.
“Birthday boy!” The boy sitting beside Grayson clapped on the back and laughed. “Nice, man!”
Grayson didn’t respond to him or any of the others in the group cheering on his sudden break of character, instead just looking intensely at Lyra. All these people here knew him as the stoic business man who takes himself too seriously. So to see Grayson Hawthorne make out with a girl? In front of a crowd?
Well that’s a once in a lifetime chance. That’s something.
And when Lyra led him away and they went behind a wall and kissed again she knew it was something. When they kissed for so long they forgot where they were and her head was spinning and people were looking for Grayson to sing happy birthday, she knew it was something. When Grayson walked out with her, holding her hand and not even telling her to fix her smudged lipstick, she knew it was something.
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smallsinger5901 · 1 day ago
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i actually need to explain the biggest plot twist of the 2015 death note tv drama so uhhhh spoilers here?
so after some events that lead to Himura (the Naomi/Lidner/ide stand-in who worked on the task force until it was revealed she was a spy whose only loyalty was to L and getting the book) and her gang getting the death note in the task force’s possession, Light decides the best way to get it back is by using Mikami/Misa’s book to force Lidner to hand it over and then pull a Naomi. This works, Light is alone in this underground carpark laughing and monologuing to the death note, and then the camera pans. And you just see Soichiro standing there like 🧍‍♂️🧍‍♂️
Light turns around as Soichiro starts talking, then shouting at Light to explain himself, explain what he meant when he said he was gonna kill Near and all those kinds of things.
See, just before L died, he told Soichiro to keep an eye on Light at all times. The second Soichiro couldn’t do that, L died, so he hasn’t taken his eyes off Light since then. And he’s noticed. He noticed Light rolling his eyes when Near talked, he noticed Light not caring about Misa, he noticed how Light was willing to write a name in the notebook to prove to Himura it was real when she was stealing it, as if he forgot about the 13 day rule being real. So he followed Light when he left suspiciously, and saw everything.
(This is still not the plot twist btw)
so Light is trying to gaslight his father and tell him it’s just a fake, that Himura was threatening him, and Soichiro just looks utterly disgusted. He finally sees how Light lies through his teeth. He asks where his son went, and if he can have him back.
Light just keeps saying the book is fake.
so soichiro grabs it out of his hand, and tells Light that, if it’s a fake, he shouldn’t have any problem with what he’s about to do.
he starts writing his own name in the notebook. Light starts panicking, but refuses to admit he lied. He tries to convince him not to test it, but soon Soichiro only has one single stoke left of his name to write. He asks Light why.
Light never outright says that he is Kira- but he tries to convince Soichiro that Kira is justified, and that he became Kira to save his father (technically not a lie.)
Soichiro sighs, tells him to open his eyes: then finishes writing his own name.
and you know when Light starts going crazy? Not when his dad finished writing his name. No. he starts physically fighting his father for the book as soichiro starts pouring lighter fluid on it. He is more desperate to stop the death note from being destroyed than he is to stop his own father from killing himself.
and he’s successful. Soichiro dies before he can destroy the notebook.
cut to a hospital room- Sayu is sobbing next to her dad’s body, Light is sitting down trying his best to look grieved. And then the task force enter. They all have a physical reaction to seeing Soichiro Yagami dead. Somebody asks Light what happened. Light says Himura did it. They share a look.
then, in the finale, one episode later, Near has just cornered Light. The task force (and a whole bunch of other cops) are all there, and Light tells the task force that Near is lying, he isnt Kira. But they don’t believe him.
why?
because before he left to follow Light, Soichiro gathered the whole task force together and said one very important thing: If I die now, it’s because Light, as Kira, has killed me.
they then all shoot Light when he tries to write Near’s name.
so YEAH. THAT WAS A LOT. It took me so off guard but there were so many signs, like the task force calling someone as Light walked away at his dad’s funeral being revealed as Near/mello later on. I cannot stress how much i love that goddamn tv show. I love it so much.
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laswells-ashtray · 23 hours ago
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Sarah knows how people perceive them, two older sappy lesbians who have a horde of cats. They're almost stereotypical and she wouldn't have it any other way but there's resentment that lies within the belief that they're too old to be lesbians with a sex life.
She might not dress up in latex and carry about a whip like Catwoman because she wasn't in her twenties anymore but she could still have fun.
Although, at the back of her mind, she had to appreciate that no one else got to see Kate like this. Got to imagine her like this.
Tied up on a chair, navy blue rope wrapped around her pale skin holding her limbs in place as she desperately tried to grind her hips as Sarah controlled the vibrator lodged in her wife's cunt.
It was stress relief for Kate. She was forced to let go and let someone else take the lead. She fought it right up until her head was thrown back, and her voice broke through a series of pleading moans, trying to convince Sarah that she just needed a little bit more.
Strands of hair stuck to her face as she screwed her eyes shut, thighs tensing under the rope that embraced them. Later, Sarah would rub her hands over the raw skin where the rope had dug into her wife's legs but now, she sat and watched, desperately resisting the urge to stick her hand between her legs and get off to the view of the Station Chief Kate Laswell writhing in bondage rope as she was forced to get off without the soft pad of Sarah's thumb rubbing circles over her clit.
If it weren't for the fact Kate looked like she'd bite her for attempting it, she'd be standing behind Kate, reaching over the other woman's shoulder groping her tits and pinching her nipples.
It took work to break Kate out of her Watcher-1 headspace, breaking down the barrier she'd built around her for the sake of the job and bringing her back home mentally. But God, if it wasn't arousing to watch.
Listening to the telltale hitch in her wife's breath as she stared at Sarah, fully clothed and sitting on the bed before her, phone in hand as she increased the vibrations between her legs.
"Sarah- Fuck, Sarah, I'm-"
"You're gonna cum, aren't you? Go ahead and let go for me, sweetheart." Kate didn't need any encouragement but she always responded so well to it, lashes fluttering as she let out a long, breathy groan as she fights to clamp her thighs closed.
Sarah pushes herself up from the bed, walking over to her wife with a deeply satisfied look as if she'd been the one forced over the edge instead of Kate. She taps her phone screen, ending the vibrations the minute Kate starts to properly fight against the ropes binding her, overstimulation was more Sarah's thing.
She tosses her phone away, resting one hand on Kate's shoulder as her thumb rubs circles against the warm, damp skin. Her other hand slips between her wife's legs, cupping her cunt and coating her palm in slick and cum. Kate's entire body jolts and she glowers up at Sarah for a brief second before her expression slips back to one of tired gratification.
"Needed that, didn't you?"
Kate doesn't answer, she doesn't expect her to. She'll untie Kate and talk her into a bath when she's ready and the other woman will be out like a light before Sarah is finished rubbing lotion over her legs.
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sadiecoocoo · 2 days ago
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Hazel, Sweet and Dynamic Chp. 3 - Arcane Fanfiction
Summary - As Jayce spends more time trying to find a way home, Viktor grows bitter with neglect
Chp. Word Count - 2927
Total Word Count - 8,907
Read on AO3
Previous Chapter
Chapter 1
Notes: I definitely tried a bit of a different writing style with this one, but I'm really proud of it! originally this chp was going to be longer, but I decided where i left it off would be a better cut-off point anyways, enjoy :)
Every few nights, Jayce cried, and Viktor held him silently. He didn’t mind.
He never shushed him, or told him things were okay, because they truly weren’t. It didn’t help to be given false platitudes just so he could feel better in the moment.
Jayce would refind his optimism anyway. He didn’t need Viktor to tell him to chin up. He just needed Viktor to be there.
He held him silently, rubbing his back and resting his chin in Jayce’s hair.
That was usually how they fell asleep. Jayce would be as pressed against him as much as he possibly could be, and Viktor would welcome it gladly.
Every morning that he woke up with Jayce in his arms, and Jayce holding him tightly in turn, was the start of a good morning. 
He was honestly starting to think that he’d be okay with this. If they didn’t find their way home, they’d at least have each other. Their only worries would be finding scraps and cooking bad food.
He knew Jayce would never give up, he left too much behind to be content with what they had now. Caitlyn, Vi, Mel, and his mother were out there somewhere, and he could never leave his mother alone.
Viktor didn’t have anyone left, only Jayce. He would be content with him, so he would follow him wherever he went.
He would work on trying to find a way back home, write equation after equation. He would go as far as the bridges and gather as many supplies as he could, watching as more and more husks seemed to follow his movements. He would make sure Jayce understood how to treat his injured leg, how to not make anything worse.
It was dark outside now, there weren’t anymore neon chemlights to brighten the night. If he looked out the boarded up window, he wouldn’t see a thing.
He supposed it made it easier to sleep. At least it should have. He could almost forget that there were the husks just outside. He could almost forget about the one that reached towards him when he walked past it.
He hadn’t told Jayce. He didn’t plan to. The man had enough worries already, and this should be something Viktor can handle himself.
It had only happened once, but the feeling of cold, lifeless fingers grabbing onto his arm haunted him. It had been forceful, and he had to pry himself away. They left indents in his strange purple skin that looked just a shade darker for a day or two.
He had abandoned the box of supplies he had found, leaving it to clatter against the ground. He only had half the mind to not barge into the house and worry Jayce.
Viktor ended up spending about an hour sitting out in the alley they had been in before, the two husks clutching onto each other his only company. He stared again at the burst of muted colors traveling up the walls like a disease. His panic had bled way to disdain after glaring at it long enough.
He knew Jayce suspected something was wrong by the time he got back. He had asked, but Viktor only shrugged him off with a half-baked excuse. He didn’t push anyway, just waited for Viktor to open up, even though he never did.
Now the two of them were curled up next to each other. Jayce’s light snores were the only sound aside from the occasional rustling of the covers.
No matter how hard he tried, Viktor couldn’t sleep. It was getting colder every day, and they were well into the winter months. It had even snowed a couple of times.
Their blanket wasn’t cutting it anymore for keeping them warm. Jayce managed fine, he had always run hot, but Viktor felt the cold chilling him down to the bone.
It was still foreign and overwhelming. The involuntary shivers racketing his body felt forceful. The way goosebumps rose along his strangely colored flesh felt wrong.
And Jayce treated it like it was normal. To him, it was. Viktor, despite how guilty it made him, resented him for it.
Beside him, Jayce burrowed himself into the covers more. He pressed his face against Viktor’s neck. The other man swallowed the lump forming his throat.
He would never get used to how easily Jayce showed his affections. It felt unfair, like he didn’t deserve it. Because despite all of Jayce’s insistences that he did, Viktor really didn’t deserve it.
Everything just seemed wrong now. He didn’t deserve any of the little peace they had found here. He didn’t deserve getting to enjoy his mostly fixed body, with his only aches being when he slept wrong. He didn't deserve Jayce.
Even so, being from the undercity, Viktor learned to take what he didn’t deserve. He hadn’t deserved to go to the academy, he hadn’t worked harder than any of the other kids that had dreamed of it.
So he would take. He would crave what little he had. He would do anything to keep it.
Viktor pressed himself closer to Jayce, resting his chin in the other man’s hair.
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There was a husk standing right outside the alleyway. Viktor stared at its blank face. Its head was tilted ever so slightly to the side.
This one seemed different than all the others. It was a marionette, not a husk. It had a crown-like halo behind its head.
Viktor thought of the first person he had healed, the shimmer addict that held a knife to him and cried about how he was sorry to be trying to mug Viktor.
That man was standing before him now. Changed into something that would be unrecognizable to anyone else.
It hadn’t moved anymore than it already had, but it blocked the entrance to the alley way, trapping Viktor inside for reasons unknown.
He wasn’t sure if the marionettes were a threat or not. He had been able to control them, he might still be able to if he really tried.
He didn’t want to try. He would be happy to abandon that power and forget it ever existed.
The marionette tilted its head to the other side, almost like it was working out a crick in its neck. He heard the jangling of metal as it moved.
Viktor took a step back, closer to the entrance to their shelter.
It took a step forward.
He froze. It did too. It was mimicking him, trying to intimidate him. He took in a shaky breath.
His throat was dry with apprehension. It could get inside, they didn’t have a real door, just a curtain. It could get inside and attack them. It could get to Jayce.
It could ruin everything if Viktor didn’t find a way to stop it. He couldn’t let any of those things touch Jayce ever again. 
He took a step towards it, his fists clenched at his sides.
It took a step back. He willed it to.
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When Viktor came back, it was empty handed.
Jayce had been working away at their theories again. He turned and the evident disappointment in his eyes hurt Viktor. He had been expecting new parts that they could use, and Viktor failed to deliver.
“Sorry,” He muttered, fighting to relax his clenched fists. He hadn’t relaxed since he had left.
“No, it’s alright,” Jayce assured, “I can’t expect a treasure hoard every day.” He smiled lightly, the corners of his eyes crinkling. He looked tired.
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He heard walking outside. It was the sound of metal clanking against the ground in the rhythm of footsteps.
He stared at the boarded up window, not seeing a thing through the shadows of the night.
Then there was a small glimmer of light as it passed the window. It stayed there for too long to be coincidental.
“Leave us alone,” he whispered. Then the light moved, and the clanking footsteps got quieter and quieter.
It was there again. Viktor only stared at it for a second before moving to walk past it.
It turned its head to watch his movements as he passed. It moved no further into the alleyway.
 He would not let it.
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He found nothing again. They had bled the sumps dry of useful supplies. He would have to start going further. Maybe he would have to go to Piltover soon.
The thought made him shudder. A sense of apprehension flowed through him. There was something telling him that he should not go there without Jayce, but at the same time he didn’t want Jayce there either.
He couldn’t risk putting him in danger. If he saw that the marionettes were moving, he could panic. He could get hurt. Viktor would not allow that to happen.
Said man was once again at the chalkboard, muttering to himself as he looked over the same notes he did every day. He was getting obsessive with it.
Viktor tried to tell himself that that was simply what they did. They worked and worked and worked until they collapsed or found a solution.
He thought Jayce couldn’t afford to collapse. Dark bruises became more prominent under his eyes every day, and he adjusted his weight off his bad leg more often than he used to.
“You should get a cane.” Viktor blurted, trying to use a tone that said it wasn’t a suggestion.
Jayce only glanced at him before shrugging. He crossed something off on the chalkboard with a loud scrape.
Viktor frowned. He walked up behind Jayce and peeked over his shoulder. The chalkboard seemed even more a mess than it did the day before.
“Let’s take a break, we need to eat.” Viktor said. He raised his hand to Jayce’s shoulder and squeezed it.
“No, I’m alright.” He answered, waving his hand dismissively. He tapped the walk against his chin, leaving a small white mark.
Viktor scrunched his nose in annoyance. If this was how Jayce felt all the times he couldn’t get Viktor away from the lab, he was starting to understand how frustrated he would get at times.
“Jayce,” Viktor said again, “go eat.” He ordered.
Jayce looked at him then, truly looked. It wasn’t dismissive, his mind wasn’t elsewhere. He finally looked.
And Viktor saw that he looked tired. Weary. His chest ached as Jayce looked at him. Those beautiful hazel eyes looked dull. It brought a scowl to his face. They weren’t supposed to be that way. They were supposed to be vibrant, to contrast all the muted colors that snaked around buildings and objects and corrupted everything else in this world.
“Alright,” Jayce said quietly. He glanced at the board again, his lips pursed as he didn’t want to leave it. It would be there an hour from now, Jayce was worried over nothing.
They ate silently. Viktor stole tentative glances at his partner, he watched the way he chewed slowly, like he was physically forcing himself to. He watched as Jayce stared into his stew sadly, like it had kicked a puppy in front of him.
It made Viktor angry. He didn’t know why. He felt like Jayce didn’t have the right to look so miserable. They had a good life now, no longer under the thumb of the council and no longer standing under the guillotine that was Viktor’s sickness.
Jayce didn’t have the right to be so upset anymore. It had been his choice to stay with Viktor in the first place, even though he had asked him to leave. It wasn’t fair that Jayce was leaving him now.
The thought left a bad taste in his mouth, worse than the food that still tasted like sump water. He almost apologized to Jayce, even though he had no idea what Viktor had been thinking.
That night Viktor held onto Jayce just a little tighter, like if he didn’t, he wouldn’t wake up by his side.
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The lightbulb died yesterday. Sputtering once with a final flicker of fight, then flushed them into darkness like an omen.
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“Why do you care so much about going back?” Viktor hadn’t meant to say it. He hasn’t meant for it to sound so bitter, so cruel. At the same time, he was glad it was up in the air, instead of simmering in his mind.
“What?” Jayce asked, turning fully to look at him. It wasn’t a side eye, or a quick glance. He looked, finally looked.
And he looked hurt.
“Why do you care,” Viktor asked again, unable to stop now that he had started. Jayce had just given him an out, a way to avoid a grievous mistake, and he ignored it. “There’s nothing left for us there!” He gestured with his hands.
Jayce blinked.
“Are you joking?” He asked. It sounded so condescending that Viktor had to fight the urge to kick the cane from Jayce’s hands. The cane that he had only just gotten Jayce to finally use.
“Does it look like I am?” He asked rhetorically. He finally stood, putting the two at equal height. Jayce had to be slightly hunched to actually put his weight on the cane.
“Don’t do this,” Jayce warned. And oh, if only Viktor heeded his warning. If only Viktor had learned to listen to Jayce when he was giving a warning. He thought he should have learned after he almost destroyed the world. He thought.
“If we go back, there’ll be nothing for us but glares. We’ll get no rewards, hell we might be sent to Stillwater!” He continued. He knew that wasn’t true. Jayce would get awards. Jayce could get a holiday after him if he really wanted it. It was difficult to talk about them without using “we,” though.
“You don’t know that!” Jayce insisted. He slammed the chalk onto the rim of the board, louder than he meant to. Or maybe he did mean to, and it just didn’t work at intimidating Viktor. “Mel would-“
That was what did it. That was what cut the line and made him snap.
“Of course, you’re doing this to see Mel!” He spat her name like a curse, tired of the woman that he felt took everything from him, “you just want to go back to her and leave your genocidal partner to rot!?” He screamed.
“No!” Jayce spluttered, he waved his hands wildly as he spoke, “no- I could care less-“
“I know what you did with her!” He interrupted, “I know that when I collapsed in the lab and was on my deathbed you had been sleeping with her! I know that when I was being transformed into the monster that I am now you went to her! I know-“
“I just want to see my mom!” Jayce screamed. Viktor stared, breathing hard. Jayce was crying. “I want to get away from this dead place that only serves to remind me of the months I spent rotting at the bottom of a fissure!”
He was crying, and he didn’t go to Viktor for comfort, not like last time, not like the countless other nights that he had. He shied away when Viktor reached a hand towards him. He scowled and looked to the ground, his fists clenched at his sides.
“I’m not gonna let anyone do anything to you if we find a way home.” Jayce continued, much quieter than before, but much more determined to make Viktor listen. He almost preferred the yelling. The yelling didn’t make him feel like a bad person. The yelled made him feel like they were both bad.
“I don’t care what you think I’m not gonna let you go to Stillwater, or get exiled, or- I don’t know!” He threw his hands up in the air.
“I know I messed up before, and I know I’m not being the best right now,” his voice was shaking, “but you don’t have anyone you left behind, and I miss my family.” He finished with a broken sob.
“You never should have stayed.” Viktor muttered. He was eternally grateful to Jayce for staying, but now it was causing them more pain than if he had let Viktor die alone. It was causing Jayce pain.
Sometimes I wish I hadn’t. Jayce didn’t say it. He didn’t go that far. Viktor could see it on the tip of his tongue, see it in the way he looked to the ground and started scratching at his wrist.
Viktor was out the door hardly a second later. He couldn’t take it. He couldn’t watch Jayce break down because of him. He couldn’t be the one to keep hurting him. He couldn't, he couldn't, he couldn't.
 Viktor didn’t turn back when Jayce called after him, because he didn’t sound mad anymore. He sounded broken. He sounded as broken as Viktor had felt all those years he worked beside someone who seemed implausibly perfect, and Viktor could never handle himself at his worst like Jayce had.
So Viktor walked away. He walked away like he always found some way to do. He walked away like he had when he found out what the Doctor did to Rio. He walked away like he did from the undercity. He walked away like he did with Heimerdinger. He walked away like the day he muttered something useless about affection as an excuse.
He walked. He didn’t hear the tell tale signs of footsteps behind him. He didn’t know if that made him hurt more or not.
End Notes: yippee cliff hanger also I have decided that this fic will have whump, but it's going to be minor
I also would like to say that the mention of Mel was not at all me being personally mad at her about that, I honestly love Meljay and Meljayvik, I just thought that since Viktor and Jayce are both tense and worried about a lot of things it’d be an easy way to set Viktor off (because bffr who wouldn’t be jealous of Mel) anyway, I always appreciate comments <3 (please someone talk to me about the symbolism and foreshadowing I added please I'm begging you)
if anyone would like to be tagged for updates please lmk, I'd be happy to do it!
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