#but I will bite you and forever will keep biting you

[rafespreciosa]

getting chris' initials tatted on your hip....

ೀ ‧₊˚

chris' movements were hasty, his hands groping, squeezing, and massaging every dip and curve of your body as you sat straddled atop his lap, thighs squeezing his hips as your lips moved against his. "missed this," he breathed, one hand slipping up to grip your chin, tugging your mouth open wider for him as he slid his tongue between your swollen lips.

a muffled moan escapes you at the warm muscle sliding against yours, the taste of the weed the two of you had been smoking still lingering on his breath. sliding your hand up his chest and around the back of his neck, a shiver ran through him at the feeling of your nails grazing his skin. he let out a low groan against your mouth before breaking away.

chris' lips left a trail of hot, sloppy, open-mouthed kisses down your throat and collarbone, his teeth gently nipping your skin every now again, forcing a breathless whimper or whine to escape you. "feels.. feels like i ain't' had'ya in forever,"

his words sent a pang of guilt through you, knowing he was right — for the past week, every time he'd made a move, you would be quick to shut it down, always muttering out some half-assed excuse on why he couldn't have you and it wasn't because you didn't want him, that was the furthest thing from the truth. it was because you had something for him.

a surprise, one that you wanted to be fully healed before it was revealed to your boyfriend. a tattoo of his initials. chris had always known you to be spontaneous, so you coming home with new tattoos and showing him right off the bat was never anything new for him, but despite that, despite how excited and supportive he always was, this was different, this was his name, permanently inked on your skin — the reveal had to be as special as the meaning.

you were snapped out of your daydream as he tugged at the hem of your shirt, the action breaking the spell of lust and desire as you pull back, "no," you whisper, hand gently pressing on his chest to push him to sit back against the leather seats, "babe—" he began, but you were already turning around to lower the volume on his cars' radio.

but right as your fingers touched the dial, his hand shot out, his own fingers wrapping around your wrist as he tugged at it to get your attention, "chris," you gasp, turning back to face him, a new excuse already on the tip of your tongue, ready to be spoken but before you could, he cut in, "okay—" he huffed, hands dropping down to his sides, "what's goin' on with you?"

his question made your eyes widen, eyebrows shooting up slightly in surprise. "what do you mean?" you asked, attempting to keep your voice steady despite the sudden anxiety bubbling in your stomach, "nuh-uh.. don't, don't do that shit—" he cut in once more.

"don't do wha-" your sentence was once again cut short by his hand reaching up to grip your face, his fingertips pressing in to your cheeks, squeezing them gently, eliciting a soft squeak from you, "that," he uttered, "that 'what do you mean' bullshit,"

you had to bite back the urge to grin as he mocked you, focusing on the furrow in his brows to keep your facial expressions neutral, even if you were feeling amused by his quick-growing frustration. "baby.." you murmured, pulling his hand from your face.

"you've been blowing me off all week—that ain't like you, i would know," he huffed, and you raised a brow, a small smirk stretching across your lips, "huh?" you coo, the innocent tone of your voice making him groan, "you.. you've been jumping my bones anytime you could since we met,"

he brought his hands back down to your hips, thumbs rubbing the sliver of skin peeking out between the hem of your shirt and the waistband of your his sweatpants. "so, what's goin' on? huh? there someone else?" he questioned, his tone laced with annoyance but also a twinge of anxiety, "y'not feeling this anymore? what is it?"

you couldn't help but chuckle, the sound catching him off guard, blue eyes widening in surprise and confusion, "wha--what, why are you laughin'?" he asked, so focused on your continuous giggles he doesn't notice your hands tugging at the strings of your sweats, loosening them. "what's so funny?"

"come on, mama.." he finally sighed, "just tell me the truth, m'not gonna be mad if you're not happ—" now it was his turn for his sentence to be cut short as you reached your hand up, mirroring his actions from a few moments prior as you grip his face in your hand, fingers pressing in to his cheeks.

chris let out a surprised gasp, his mouth falling open to question you but before he could, you tilt his head down, forcing his eyes to land on the tattoo — his initials c.s. inked in dainty script lettering against your skin. "holy.. fuck," he whispers, a shaky breath leaving him as your hand releases his face. "you, that—what," he stammers, mouth opening and closing as he hesitantly reaches his fingers to trace over it.

"that's why i've made you wait," you say, leaning back slightly to give him a better view of the new art work, "s'not because i'm not feeling you or us anymore—just wanted it to heal before showin' you," chris looked up, eyes dark as a smirk slowly spread across his kiss-swollen lips, "and is it?"

raising a brow, a small laugh escapes you, "what—" his hands gripped your hips against, tugging you forward until your face hovered over his, "the tat, is it healed," his voice was deep, the lowest you've ever heard and it made your eyes widen, "yeah," the word had barely left you before his lips crashed against yours, his hands already working on tugging down your sweats, "good—"

"can't wait to see how it'll look covered in my cum,"

RAFESPRECIOSA © 2025 .

tags 🏷️ @secretlocket @deansbeer @et6rnalsun @isnyv @cupiidk1lls @freshloveee @starzify @chrissturnsfav @inspiredangel @mattsbrowser @chrissweetheart @mattscoatedcock @chrisissobabygirl @gabsisstar @morgan-getty

[channiesbakery]

playing games —

prompt / request — fucking, but one is still trying to keep all of their attention on the game they are playing

pairing — reader + gamer!wonwoo

word count — 608

genre — smut

you never minded when wonwoo played games. it was his way of relaxing and you’d never get mad at him for spending his time off doing it.

except when you’re feeling as needy as you are today. even though he’d woken you up with his head between your legs and he’d fucked you in the kitchen after breakfast, you were still feeling needy.

you creep over to his gaming room, poking your head in. wonwoo hears his door opening and turns to face you, giving you a soft smile. he muted himself from the call, pulling his headphones off to rest around his neck.

“everything okay, princess?” wonwoo asks as you make your way over to him. “i need you,” you say. “do you need me to kill a spider or something?” he asks, about to get up but you shake your head.

“no. i need you,” you say again and he gets the hint, smirking a little. “still needy even after two rounds this morning?” he teases.

“come on, you finally have an off day and we could be having a sex marathon right now,” you try to tempt him but he just laughs.

“give me like half an hour, then I’m all yours,” he promises, kissing your lips softly. you still have a pout on your lips and he just chuckles, pulling you onto his lap.

he started his game again, unmuting himself as he spoke to his friends while you relax against him. you stay still for what feels like forever until you get the idea to tease him.

wonwoo feels you getting up, figuring that you’re gonna leave the room to do something else. he doesn’t realize you dropped to your knees between his legs until your hands slide up his thighs.

“what’re you doing, princess?” he raises an eyebrow, a smirk curling on his lips as he muted himself.

“just finding a way to keep myself entertained until i can fully have your attention,” you hum, tugging his sweats down just enough to release his cock.

he tries to focus on his game, he really does. but the minute your mouth wraps around him, he lets out a hiss.

his friends question if he’s okay but wonwoo just makes up an excuse, trying to focus on winning and not the way your tongue is running along the underside of his cock.

“you wanna play games? i can play games too,” you tease him.

you’re pulling out every trick you have to get him to break. you focus all your attention on his tip first, licking and sucking it before you take him deeper down your throat.

wonwoo bites down on his lip, holding back a moan as he felt his tip hit the back of your throat.

you pull away, your hand replacing your lips as you slowly jerk him off. wonwoo glances down at you as you start pressing kisses to his cock, letting out a soft “fuck” when he sees you peering up at him innocently.

you take him back into your mouth, trying to bring him closer to the edge. he holds back a moan when your fingertips graze his balls.

just when he’s about to cum, you pull away and stand up, wiping the corner of your lips with a smirk.

“I’ll see you in twenty minutes when you’re ready to give me all your attention,” you tease, starting to walk out of the room.

you watch as he quickly logs off of his game and call, deciding he can give his friends a lame excuse later.

“oh no, I’m ready to give you all my attention now. and don’t think I’ll be taking it easy on you after that stunt.”

[43qh]

is this forever? (m)

quinn hughes x fem!reader

genre: fluff, smut

warnings: unprotected sex, soft and sweet!

word count: 2.4k

summary: love is so many different things.

love is a consumption.

you’re convinced it consumes you more than anything else. when you look at quinn, there’s nothing left in your body but love for him. when he has those distressed eyes, you make sure to clear them up. the crinkle in his forehead disappears around you.

when it came to offseason, quinn couldn’t keep his eyes and hands off of you. he was victim to the way you felt in his arms. he considered nothing more perfect.

with you below him, undressed, all for his taking. he couldn’t contain himself. your moans were a calling for him to keep going. each thrust making him sweat a little bit more. buried deep inside you like he was made for you. like you were made for him.

he whispers softly in your ear, “feels so much better than my hand.” he huffs when you clench around him. he wants to savor this moment. “you’re so tight, so warm.”

the sounds you make is music to his ears. it sounds like love to him. quinn was a love maker, you knew that all too well. there were times when he got a bit rough, no complaining on your end. but he was made for this kind of intimacy.

quinn was a lover.

quinn was your lover.

his thrusts were slow, deep. his breaths were uneven at the feeling of you wrapped around him. you could hear the occasional groan and whimper come from him when you clawed at his back a little harder, or when you wrapped your legs around his back to pull him closer. he can’t stop from falling to his elbows at the sensation, falling weak to you.

he groans in your ear, listening to your moans like they’re prayers. “close?” he was out of breath, unable to form a full sentence.

you nod, sweat collecting at the brim of your forehead, “yes, yes, quinn.”

quinn can’t stop his hips from picking up pace at the declaration. he lives for the way you moan his name, the tightening in his chest driving him crazy.

when you cum around his cock, it feels like a chain reaction. he can’t stop the way he cums with you, the way he fills you up to the brim with belated breaths.

the air felt hot and heavy as the both of you calm down, hearts beating in sync like the two of you were one person.

“i love you.” he looks over at you, tilting his head and kissing your cheek.

you hum, “i love you, quinn.”

he kisses your shoulder, “let’s clean up.”

love is time consuming.

not in a bad way.

your thoughts sway back and forth to quinn in everything you do. you make coffee, and the way he likes his coffee comes forth. when he’s gone, you think of how warm he feels laying next to you. you iron his clothes and think about how he looks inside them.

when you hear your phone ring, you know it’s quinn. no one else calls you so consistently the way he does.

“beautiful,” he greets, his voice a little rugged.

“handsome,” you greet back, a smile on your face. you clutch your phone a little tighter in anticipation as he continues on about his day and what he had accomplished. it was routinely when he wasn’t home. it was enough for you.

you could see the furrow in his brows in your mind. the way his lips looked when he talked. the way he would lick them in between sentences. the way he would try to stretch his back.

maybe you knew his habits all too well.

“i can’t wait to come home.” he huffs, and you hear him laying back on a bed.

you sit on the living room couch of your shared house, “i can’t wait either.”

you knew quinn was smiling, “i love you, gorgeous.” his voice grew softer.

you closed your eyes and just listened, “i love you too, quinny.”

he grunts at the nickname, but says nothing about it. there’s a long pause between the two of you. as if you were both just enjoying the company of one another, even if it was over the phone.

you open your eyes and look at the time, realizing just how late it must be for him. “you should sleep.”

quinn huffs, “miss you.”

you smile and bite your lip, “i miss you, too. but i’ll be here tomorrow.”

quinn can’t stop the smile that droops on his sleepy features, “promise?”

“promise.”

“goodnight then, angel.” he yawns.

you smile again, “goodnight, quinn.”

the hang up feels dreadful, but your mind is consumed with the way he talked to you for the rest of the night.

his voice, the way you imagined him sprawled on the bed, his soft words.

quinn will always be on your mind. time and time again.

love is beautiful.

quinn wasn’t the type for slow dancing. but when it was just the two of you, dancing alone to the faint sound of a love song, he couldn’t help the way his heart swelled from the feeling of you in his arms.

love songs reminded him of you. you looked so graceful, a small smile playing on your face as you look at him. he feels the way your hands clasp tighter around his neck, and he smiles back.

his hands rest lovingly along your waist, swaying the two of you back and forth and around the room. quinn wouldn’t do this for anyone else. you had him in your grip tighter than you thought.

“you’re a good dancer,” you state, tilting your head in curiosity.

he loves the way your eyes shine under the faint light of the lamp in the room, “you’re better.”

quinn spins you around before pulling you flush against him. your chest pressed against his, breaths labored as he stops for a second to admire you.

you’re both in pajamas, and you want to think about how ridiculous this must look, but you honestly didn’t care. the way quinn was looking at you felt like you were the most beautiful woman on earth. and he believed that.

“you’re so beautiful,” he whispers, starting to sway again, but never loosening his hold on you.

you lick your lips, eyes curious and wide, “so are you.”

quinn grins at the side of his mouth, noticing how nervous you were from the close contact. he loved how he could still bring out these kinds of reactions from you, even after being together for almost two years. he would be lying to himself if you didn’t make him react the same way. he can feel the shivers down his spine when you run your fingers through his hair in a soft, loving way.

quinn can’t stop himself from kissing you. his lips move in a languid way that makes your skin light up in a blaze. you almost feel hot, his fingers grasping at your waist with more fervor.

he loves the way you moan in his mouth, the sound vibrating through his body and making him deepen the kiss. he couldn’t resist you even if he tried.

at this point, the dancing has come to a full halt. the two of you more focused on feeling one another. you tug on his hair a bit, making him groan and pull away with wet lips.

“couldn’t resist you,” he gasps, looking at you with a goofy smile.

you giggle softly, and quinn can feel the way his heart picks up at the sound, “i couldn’t either.”

quinn could live this way forever.

love is patience.

quinn huffs as he slowly slides inside of you. and you lick your lips, looking up at him with a gorgeous glint in your eyes. it would be so romantic if only he didn’t want to completely ruin you. make a mess of your makeup.

you look at him with deer eyes, bright and wide. he lets out a small groan, eyes turning lidded at the sight of you as he bottoms out inside you. he patiently waits for you to adjust, basking in your glory. watching the way sweat starts to form on your forehead. he smiles to himself at the way he can get you so worked up with such little effort. you were truly made for him.

“tell me to move,” he says it in more of a question than a statement. you nod your head, signaling for him to move. he can’t help himself from pulling back to where only the tip of his cock sits inside you, before slamming back into you. the gasp that leaves your lips is worth it.

he sighs, leaning down to press his lips against your shoulder, earning a whine as a prize. he can hear you perfectly in this angle. your moans and gasps going straight into his ear. he closes his eyes in a flurry of bliss. the way you tighten around him as he slowly rocks his hips against your own makes him go almost mad.

he can’t stop the way his hips pick up in pace. he wants to make this last, he wants to listen to you beg for more. his prayers are answered as you whine, “quinn, please, more.” your breaths are shaky and sharp.

quinn licks his own lips, smirking to himself. “wanna make this last, baby.”

you writhe below him, making him groan as he feels the way you tighten up and take him in more. he places a hand on your hip, pushing you back down and tsking at you.

“where’s my good girl, huh?” quinn chastises, making your whines louder and louder. he soaks it in, before finally giving you what you want. he figures you’ve been patient enough. plus he was starting to lose his own patience.

he thrusts into you with feverish pace, making goosebumps form on your skin. “oh, god.”

he smiles, leaning back to look down at you and the way your eyes roll into the back of your head like you’ve seen god. he loves the way you gasp his name, telling him how good he feels. his cock twitches when you tighten up around him even more. his pace is turning brutal and he can no longer help himself.

“atta girl,” he whispers, “take it like a good girl.”

that was your undoing. you couldn’t help it. his voice was a mixture of loving and raspy. it made your inside tingle and your pussy clench around him. your back rises up to his chest as he finishes alongside you, his cum seeping inside you. you gasp one last time, out of breath.

“fuck,” quinn groans.

you smile, hands grabbing his shoulders and pulling him down for a kiss. “so good.”

quinn smiles in the kiss.

the patience is always worth it.

love is forgiving.

“i told you, quinn. it’s okay.” you look at him with soft eyes. quinn pouts at you.

“you said you wanted to go out to dinner tonight.” he sighs, sitting on the edge of the bed.

you shake your head with a smile on your lips, “no, no. i just want to be with you.”

you and quinn had reservations but an emergency came along and he didn’t make it home in time. he was so frustrated with himself, he felt a heavy weight in his chest. that was until you came along and eased his worries.

“i promise, quinn. there are so many more dinners left in our lifetime.” you sit beside him and kiss his cheek. he looks at you with apologetic eyes before kissing you slowly and softly on the lips.

“i don’t deserve you.” he whispers against your lips before kissing you again, raising a hand to your face to pull you closer.

you smile and pull away, looking into his eyes with a sparkle, “other way around, my love.”

he shakes his head, his hair shaking with him. “hush.”

he kisses your lips again, apologies lying within them.

he could never understand how accepting and loving you always were. and little did he know, you thought the same way he did.

love is forever.

quinn rubs his sweaty hands on his pants. he feels the heavy weight of the ring in his pocket. he’s waiting for you to come home. he doesn’t want to waste time the second you walk through the door, but he knows it’s best to wait for good things to come along.

he smiles and kisses you, embracing you in a hug. you exchange the hug, hanging your purse beforehand. you smile at him, nothing out of the ordinary for you.

you look into his eyes and see the most beautiful eyes you’ve ever seen. he looks and sees the same.

you look around and notice that dinner is already prepared for the two of you. you raise and eyebrow, “hm? dinner?”

quinn nods, licking his lips in anticipation, “yeah, thought i’d spoil you.”

you smile and kiss his cheek, “thank you, sweetie.”

he bites back a smile, but you can see it nonetheless. you walk to the table, looking at the array of food. “wow, this must have taken-”

you’re cut off when you turn around to a quinn hughes with one knee on the floor. you gasp, hand raising to your mouth. it felt like something out of a movie. your eyes were welling up with tears.

“my sweet, gorgeous girlfriend,” he starts, “this might sound so cliché, but the moment my eyes laid on your own, i knew you were going to be the one for me. i adored you the second we spoke, and fell in love the first time we kissed. i have many flaws. and i want to be able to share my future with you for the rest of our lives.” he opens the ring box, “will you marry me? make me the happiest man to ever live?”

you just nod, holding out your ring finger as you cry happy tears. you want to respond to everything he has said, but the most you can do is raise him to his feet as fast as possible and kiss him. the ring looks absolutely beautiful on you, shining under the light of the dining room lights.

“yes,” you whisper between kisses, “of course yes, quinn.”

quinn is the luckiest man alive.

quinn is ready for forever. and so are you.

a/n: so sorry for the long wait. and i’m sorry if it doesn’t live up to the anticipation. love you!

[persicipen-archive]

𑑛 “ARMOUR-CLAD HEART” ﾉ MYDEI. HONKAI STAR RAIL

gn reader ﾉ words 0.9k ᯽ mydei teaches you some self-defence. reader is not made for fighting and rather weak. an awkward display of affection from mydei’s side lol ﾉ no proofreading, we die like kremnoans ᯽ FLUFF ﾉ GENERAL CONTENT ᯽

You hear a displeased click of his tongue — nothing surprising given your stance and previous pathetic tries at blocking his fist — and take a step back with your face embarrassingly hot. His fake hit was nowhere near fast nor strong, just a mere presentation of where such an attack would come from and land at the end.

“You’d be dead within a second on the Strife’s battlefield. Or perhaps should I even say that a mere thug would get through your defence with little to no preparation?” Mydei’s gaze moves all over you in a judging way, and it takes your every strength not to look away.

“I’m not made for battle! You wouldn’t see me anywhere near it. It’s just way too hot today to focus.”

Another loud “tch” escapes his lips, now much more annoyed and agitated than before, as if he has already completely given up on any hope for you. A blazing sun over the terrace is no excuse to stop the lesson, or perhaps it’s precisely because of its presence.

“Surely someone with an ill intent would wait for you to be comfortable and well prepared for their arrival, am I correct?” He snickers in a sarcastic tone, leaving a short pause to give you another opportunity to oppose him.

But again, this time not only is his attitude towards you harsh and insulting, but his words make complete sense, and they burn with embarrassment even more than the scorching heat that surrounds both of you.

Maybe you’re simply spineless and will forever be even under his tutoring. You bite your lip, trying not to appear weaker than you already are, knowing very well that there will be absolutely no use in defending yourself anymore. But it doesn’t matter now. What does he plan to do next?

Your body tenses up out of reflex only seconds before his warm palm wraps around your arm, turning you around effortlessly while pressing your back against his own chest. An uncontrolled gasp leaves your mouth as you are left immobilised in an instant and the forced proximity feels even hotter than midday, yet the one behind you pays no mind to it, completely focused on keeping you in place.

“Most people would assume you cannot get out of this hold unless you’re physically stronger than the aggressor.”

You feel every slight breath he makes pressing harder on you. Not to mention how his voice sends pleasant shivers down your spine by being so close to your ear. All the discomfort disappears the second a faint memory reappears in the most unexpected of places. The way he holds you reminds you of something entirely different from sparring.

Curse your mind, it doesn’t help to focus at all and it’s especially shameful when Mydei’s not affected; calm and composed, with a fiery spark running along the red marks on his body.

“You’ll most likely always have a free hand or two. Instead of wriggling them mindlessly, use one to press on the bottom of your opponent’s nose or even punch them. The nose is always sensitive, even under the slightest pressure.” He eases the grip around your body and demonstrates what he just said and although he doesn’t apply force at all when bringing his knuckle above your cupid’s bow, you squirm involuntarily in an attempt to escape.

But since he never lets go of your other arm, there’s nowhere to run.

“Now, try it yourself.” Yet instead of waiting for your move, his hand — armoured in golden claws, a trap for your smaller palm — grabs yours and brings it behind towards his face. You peek over your shoulder, a little afraid.

To add on top of everything, he is as serious about this sparring lesson as ever, not paying attention to the closeness between your bodies. The red lines decorating his chest seem brighter than usual, with sweat glistening along his collarbones and hair dishevelled by the breeze.

Your heart skips a beat in anticipation when you are almost certain he’s about to kiss your fingers instead, but in the last second, he inches away and brushes them against the underside of his nose. “Here. Remember this.”

“I’m sure that my enemy won’t navigate my hand towards their weak spot.” A shaky sigh of disappointment escapes your lips.

He chuckles lowly at your comment, raising the corner of his mouth in a sardonic smile.

“You’d rather aim blindly than focus on where and what to attack? You’ve just earned the disapproval of the crown prince of Castrum Kremnos.” He moves in front of you, abruptly pausing all physical contact. “Be thankful that I’m not only willing to teach you how to defend yourself but also for that I will protect you with my own strength as long as you’re near.”

He pushes a damp strand of hair out of your face, the lightest touch of his bare finger causing more tingles to travel down your spine. At the same time, he flinches when realising what he has done and lets his hand drop to his side; the victorious glint in his golden eyes changes to bewilderment. His armour rattles at the subtle gesture of humanity and betrayal of his emotionless posture.

“We’ll practice again until you gain the approval from me. Do not expect me to be lenient.” The heat spreading on your cheeks becomes a problem only after Mydei finishes the sentence and moves away with haste, surely caused by his discomfort.

A gentle breeze runs through the illuminated terrace and cools your skin. You watch him walk away without turning around (you wish he would). This feeling of shame mixes with admiration and unadulterated curiosity to stir up something completely bizarre in your heart.

A pomegranate-sweet infatuation with the prince.

[chongoblog]

THINGS THAT HAPPEN IN STEEL BALL RUN WITHOUT CONTEXT

The President of the United States wants the corpse of Jesus Christ

A Native American enters a horserace across the country on foot. He wins the first stretch

Man in his 50s marries teenager (Trust me, this is the preferable option here)

Scratch fleas off your horse to attack your opponent with dinosaurs

The president's wife is very bisexual

One character is basically a walking joke about a J-Pop song. The battle itself is a game of Battleship.

Jesus tells the main character to shoot himself (it works)

Lucy Steel and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good Very Bad Day

Balloon animals are scary

A horse drawing on the wall will heal your wounds

You can kill the President as many times as you want, but you have to get kicked by a horse if you want it to stick

What do smoke, water, and bees all have in common? They're all bombs

A crossdressing nun will heal you with a flesh spray can

Curse of Be Stuck In Philadelphia Forever

Georgia Man wins thanks to the special ability of some dude on his shoulder cheering him on

Bug bite fetishes are discussed

There are three Italians and two of them are great with their balls

Wekapipo's ability is to take away everything that's left

The climax simultaneously takes place in New Jersey, Philadelphia, and in the Atlantic Ocean

A British jockey is killed because a girl gives him head.

President's escape plan includes getting run over by a train

Risking the penalties of copyright is a filthy act that costs an unreasonable price

In a world where walking in the desert can give you superpowers, one guy who walked in the desert came back from the dead and can keep bugs in his body for completely unrelated reasons

The character with the least heterosexual cowboy hat ever seen has the ability to make kinky sex INCREDIBLY interesting

Sometimes a family is just 11 people who look exactly the same all coming to kill you

One character died because it stopped raining

The president's name is Funny Valentine

One of the bad guys was a Confederate soldier who was so bad at his job, he could be considered a notable contribution to the Union's victory.

Three people shoot the protagonist at the same time. Kind of. I mean, hold on, let me just-

One of the characters who helped kick off the events of the story in the previous universe is reincarnated as a fortune teller whose only contribution is to tell someone that he's really lucky.

Ringo Roadagain

Ringo Roadagain

Ringo Roadagain

Ringo Roadagain

Pork Pie Hat Kid

[ch6rm]

✧ ࣪˖ angel!reader & dealer!chris exploring a hidden trail together

˖ soph's note i love them sooo much nd i can’t wait to write more about this au!! feel free to send in asks + reqs in my inbox about them <3

chris slouched on the worn bench, the smell of damp earth and wildflowers filling the air around him. a half-burned joint dangled lazily from his fingers as he stared out at the greenery of the hidden trail you had dragged him to. he still wasn’t sure how you managed to convince him—he really wasn't in the mood. but he found it hard to say no to you.

twigs and leaves crunched beneath your feet as you picked a few wild flowers. you looked over to see chris still sitting on the bench, noticing he had brought a joint with him. “really?” you asked, raising an eyebrow and pointing at the joint in his hand. “you’re out here breathing in fresh air, and you’re still doing that?”

chris gave you a dry smirk, taking a slow drag and exhaling the smoke into the breeze. “fresh air doesn’t do much for me,” he muttered, flicking the ash away.

you plopped down beside him, shaking your head. “you know that stuff isn’t good for you,” you said, your voice soft. “you can’t keep doing it forever.”

chris glanced at you, the teasing edge in his expression still there. he wanted to say you cared too much, but he'd be lying if he said he didn't like it. “chill out, angel. 's not that bad. it's all about balance,” he mumbled, turning his gaze back to the trees.

for a moment, there was silence, the distant sound of birds chirping filling the space between them. you rested her chin on your hand, watching him with that same patient, gentle look you always gave him—the one that somehow made him feel seen and annoyed all at once.

“you’re lucky i dragged you out here,” you finally said, bumping your shoulder against his lightly. “nature’s good for the soul. way better than whatever you’re smoking.”

chris snorted, shaking his head as a reluctant smile tugged at his lips. “you’re such a pain, you know that?”

“yeah, yeah,” you said, grinning. “but you love it.” you looked at him before handing him the wildflowers you picked, "here, i picked some flowers. take them home, they're pretty.”

he didn’t respond at first, leaning back against the bench as he took the flowers from you. for a moment, he just stared at the flowers, brows furrowing slightly. he shifted his weight on the bench, the corners of his mouth twitching as if he were trying to suppress a smile or a laugh. you weren’t sure if he thought it was stupid or if he was just caught off guard. “what am i supposed to do with these?” chris asked, his voice low, but there wasn’t any bite to it—just quiet curiosity.

“whatever you want,” you said with a shrug, “maybe they’ll brighten up your place or something.”

he didn’t really need the flowers. as much as he didn’t want to admit it, you had already taken care of brightening up the place—bringing something he hadn’t realized he was missing. the flowers in his hand were just another piece of the strange, unspoken thing that was growing between the two of you.

© ch6rm

🏷️ @sweetestpoetic @inspiredangel @watercolorskyy @sllutty-sturniolo @ily-tothemoonandback

[keypostos]

something short just bc. slight (like... very slight) suggestive language but like nothing too crazy.

caleb helping you with your physics homework because you're struggling so much, but you're barely paying attention because you're staring at his hands the whole time.

they're huge: they take up almost half of the paper. they're long and delicate: you knew they wouldn't break if you pulled on them, but they look so pristine.

as he slides a finger down the paper, gesturing to a problem you haven't attempted, your breath hitches. you imagine that finger sliding down your jaw, stopping just below your bottom lip, then tugging at it shortly later.

you bite down on your lip at the thought and blink a few times to snap out of this daze. it takes a sharp flick to the forehead from caleb to snap out of it.

"so, can you explain the force i used to flick you just now?" he raised an eyebrow with a teasing smirk.

you flushed—no doubt he caught you staring, "shut up, caleb."

he laughs, watching as you return back to the problems at hand. one of his hands rests on the table, pointing to problems and explaining solutions. the other, rests on his knee that's nervously bouncing up and down. his neck is completely flushed and he hopes that the dark lighting conceals the tomato shade of his ears.

when he spotted you staring at him, a hunger flushed through him like never before. you weren't even staring at his face, for god's sake. you were captivated by his hands, and caleb started to fantasize about all the ways he could please you with them.

he imagines his hands enveloping your face: they're placed on your cheeks as his thumbs travel up and down your cheekbones. he'd caress the under-eye bags you've been sporting lately (he'd chide you on it later), and trace them with such warmth that you'd want to place your hand on top of his to keep him there.

while laying down, his hands could move through your whole body. he'd start from the shoulders down to your arms, running his fingertips downwards to keep you on edge. when you'd tense up under him, he'd press you deeper into him, signaling for you to relax. he'd trace circles, rhombuses, hearts and all sorts of shapes over your stomach. he would make sure his hands trickle all over your back.

he dreams about touching you. he wants to run his thumb over your forehead when you have a stubborn pout on your face (like right now), or pull you across the table so you could sit on his lap while he teaches you. he wants to place his head on your shoulder (he knows it would fit perfectly) and whisper into your ear. he wants to see how he could rile you up by doing that.

caleb wants to wrap you up in his arms and never let you go. he could never let you leave. he wants you—needs you, even—but he knows that if he got a single taste of you, he would keep you by his side forever. it's dangerous—vulturous—how he feels about you.

so for now, he settles for watching you gulp as he looks up at you. you fiddle with the strings of your shorts while he continues explaining a problem to you, and you don't look up at him.

later, caleb reminds himself, one day.

[animamii]

Kiss Me Thru The Phone | Toji Fushiguro

Toji's been locked up for too long and misses his pretty girl deeply.

Was listening to Kiss Me Thru The Phone by Soulja Boy, which was always my go to song for my irl jailbird cougarrrr. But Toji is better so it's his song now c;

warnings; smut, duh. phone sex.

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧

This is a collect call from Tokyo Correctional Facility from

"Toji Fushiguro," his voice raspy and nonchalant as always, a stark contrast to the excitement bubbling inside you.

If you accept the charges, please press 1.

Like second nature you instantly press one. 'This phone call will be recorded and subject to monitoring...' the autonomous voice instructs. The line clicks, a soft trill signaling the connection, and then a faint beeping tone echoes through your receiver. Your heart pounds in anticipation, your grip on the phone tightening as the line goes silent for just a beat too long. A beeping tone goes off, and your heart beats heavily.

"Hey princess," Toji's voice, low and gravelly, rolls through the phone. A smile instantaneously forms on your face, it's been a while since you had spoken to Toji on the phone. His ass was always getting thrown into ad seg for one reason or another.

"Hi baby," your voice is soft and sweet, and Toji feels his heart swelling as he finally hears your voice in what feels like forever. No matter how hardened life makes him, hearing your voice always makes him melt.

“Damn, it’s good to hear you,” he mutters, his tone a little softer now. "They threw my ass in the hole cause some fuckface wanted to try and take the box of Honeybuns from the package you sent me last week."

"Of course they did," you reply with a light laugh, shaking your head. "You can't go a month without stirring up trouble, can you?"

"It's not my fault," Toji defends, the familiar cockiness in his voice making your stomach flutter. "You send me the good shit, princess. You think I'm gonna let some punk get his hands on my Honeybuns?"

You bite your lip to suppress a giggle, imagining him in his element, standing tall and intimidating, defending your care package like his life depended on it. "Well, at least now I know how much you appreciate my efforts."

"Appreciate?" Toji scoffs playfully. "Baby, I worship the ground you walk on for those packages. You should see these guys. They're practically drooling over the stuff you send me. It’s like I’m a king in here."

"Aweee babyyyy," you coo, biting your lip as your cheeks heat up. Toji always knew just what to say to make you feel giddy like a young girl in love for the first time. "Just for that I'll send you something extra special next week."

Toji lets out a low chuckle, the sound deep and raspy, sending a warm shiver down your spine. "You’re too good to me, princess. You’ve got me spoiled," he says, and though his tone is teasing, there’s a genuine softness beneath his words.

"Someone’s gotta take care of you," you reply, your voice playful but full of affection. "You’re lucky I love you enough to deal with all this drama."

"Lucky doesn’t even cover it," Toji mutters, his voice dropping an octave. "I don’t deserve you, but I’m not letting you go. Ever."

Your heart skips a beat at his words, the weight of his sincerity making your chest tighten. "You don’t have to," you whisper. "I’m not going anywhere, Toji."

"Good," he says firmly, the possessiveness in his tone sending a rush of heat through you. "Cause when I get out of here, you’re mine. Completely. No one else gets a second of your time."

"You already have me," you say softly, the vulnerability in your voice making him pause.

"I know," he murmurs after a moment, his tone unusually tender. "And that’s the only thing keeping me sane in this place. Knowing I’ve got you waiting for me on the other side."

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes, but you blink them away, refusing to let the sadness take over. "I’ll always be here, baby. No matter how long it takes."

"Enough about me though," he tries to change the subject, hearing the vulnerability in your voice. He hates knowing you're missing him like that, especially when he can't do anything about it. "How’s my pretty girl?” he asks, his voice dropping to that lower, huskier tone that always makes your stomach flutter.

“I’m okay,” you reply, leaning back against the couch as you let yourself sink into his voice. “But I’d be better if you were here.”

A low chuckle rumbles through the phone. “Trust me, princess, I’d do anything to be there with you right now.” Toji looks around his surroundings, the dreary cement walls and identical cell doors that go on and on. He leans against the divider that separates all the phones, metal phone wire feeling cool against his arm. It's late at night, most of the prisoners already in their cells asleep. Toji was lucky enough to know someone on the inside, getting the privilege to have late night calls with you, getting as much privacy as he could get. A single guard supervises him haphazardly.

The thought of him—of his rough hands on your skin, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered all the things he wanted to do to you—makes heat pool low in your belly. The distance between you feels unbearable, but his voice keeps you grounded, tethered to the connection you share.

“What are you wearing?” he asks suddenly, his tone playful but suggestive.

“Toji,” you laugh, your cheeks flushing. “You’re ridiculous.”

“I’m serious,” he replies, his voice darkening with desire. “I need a little something to keep me going while I’m stuck in here.”

You glance down at your oversized t-shirt, wearing nothing but that and some panties. biting your lip as a grin creeps onto your face. “Nothing special,” you tease. “Just your t-shirt, the one I stole from you.”

"Just my shirt? Nothing else?" He clears his throat with a grunt, looking around to make sure nobody else could hear. Although let's face it, he wouldn't care regardless.

"Mmm that and some panties of course. Like I always wear to bed," you respond, playing with the hem of your shirt mindlessly. The shirt itself wafted of Toji's musky scent, piney with a dash of smoke and a hint of jasmine.

"What panties?" Toji tries to imagine you, all pretty and barefaced, ready for bed in one of his shirts that swallow your frame. No bra, the outline of your nipples showing through the soft fabric. The bottom of your ass poking out from under his shirt.

"The frilly lacy baby pink pair you got me from Victoria's Secret," pulling up your shirt just enough to see the panties you wear, Toji being oh so familiar with the pair. "You know, the ones I wore when we went to that fancy Brazilian steak house, and you made me keep them on as you fucked me in the bathroom?"

He groans softly, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. “Damn, you know what that does to me, don’t you?”

“Maybe,” you reply, your voice light but filled with heat. Toji started this little game, but you could play it better.

"Fuck I miss you princess," his voice is gravelly, needy as he bites his lip.

"I miss you too baby," your lip curls into a sweet smile, words sounding like sugar.

"No, like I really miss you," Toji looks down at the scratchy sweatpants he's forced to wear, seeing the bulge he now adorns getting bigger and bigger as he paints an image of your pretty self.

"Oh?"

"Wanna help me out ma?" The raspiness of his sultry voice has you weak in the knees and you could almost perfectly picture the wolfish grin he was wearing.

"Toji I don't know..." Feeling bashful, your teeth tug at your lip as you contemplate. Sure you've mailed him pretty pictures with way to much cleavage, some in revealing outfits and "bathing suits", but never have you ever had phone sex with him while he's been locked up.

"C'mon mama, I really need you right now. Miss you so much. Miss your gorgeous face. Miss your cute smile. That pretty pussy of yours." At this point he was rock hard, erection now prominent even in those baggy sweatpants.

"Aren't you in public right now, love?" Raising an eyebrow, you try to imagine Toji as he's in a corner of the public area, standing next to one of the phones that's stuck to the wall.

"Relax princess, it's already past curfew. I got special phone privileges courtesy of Shiu. Pays to know people inside," he clicks his tongue proudly, his smirk almost audible.

"Mmm okay, if you say so baby," sinking down more into the couch, obliging with a tint of pink on your cheeks.

"That's my girl." There's a slight pause, then a rustling sound as Toji leans closer to the phone. "Now, put the phone on speaker so I can hear every little thing, okay princess?"

"Okay, Toji." Turning on speakerphone, you set the phone on the arm of the couch right next to where your head rests. So, what do you want me to do first, baby?" you ask, your voice tinged with playfulness and a hint of arousal.

Toji's chuckle is low and husky, sending a shiver down your spine. "Well, for starters... tell me exactly what you're wearing."

You bite your lip, glancing down at yourself before responding, "Like I said earlier, just your old shirt and that pair of baby pink lace panties. Nothing else."

His mind was so foggy with lust and need that he had forgot he asked you that, causing that hard predicament that sits in his pants. "Oh, right. That pretty pink pair that I like to slide to the side and fuck you in."

Your breathing hitches, the heat pooling in your core at his words. Toji’s voice, low and laden with want, is enough to make your body respond instantly. You shift slightly, your thighs squeezing together as the familiar ache begins to build.

“You remember everything, don’t you?” you tease, though your voice comes out softer than you intended.

“How could I forget?” he rasps, his tone sending a delicious shiver down your spine. “You looked so fucking good in them. Still do, I bet. Are they wet yet, princess?” Toji reels his memories, thinking of your legs spread open, showing that cute little damp patch of arousal that would soak through the frilly material.

Your cheeks flush crimson, his bluntness never failing to catch you off guard. “Maybe,” you admit shyly, your voice barely above a whisper.

“That’s my girl,” he murmurs approvingly. “Touch yourself for me, baby. I wanna hear those sweet little sounds you make when you think of me.” A hand goes into his sweats, palming himself through his boxers. It didn't bother him in the slightest that anyone could see. His perfect girl was on the line, moaning and mewling just for him and he wanted—no needed—to get off to you.

“Toji,” you breathe out, the warmth spreading through your chest and settling low in your belly. You hesitate for just a moment before letting your hand slip beneath the hem of your shirt, your fingertips brushing against the lace of your panties. “I miss you,” you whisper, your voice trembling slightly.

“Fuck, I miss you too,” he groans, the sound of his restraint evident in his tone. “Keep going, princess. Tell me what you’re doing.”

Your hand slips beneath the lace, your fingers dipping into the slick heat between your thighs. “I’m... I’m touching myself,” you confess, your voice trembling with a mixture of embarrassment and desire.

“Good girl,” Toji growls, his words like a low purr that rumbles through the receiver. “You know how much I love hearing you, baby. Don’t hold back. Let me hear those pretty little moans.”

Your free hand clutches at the couch cushion as your fingers begin to move in slow, deliberate circles. The sound of Toji’s breathing, heavy and uneven, fills your ear and fuels the fire building inside you. Closing your eyes, you imagine it's him hovering over you, fingers teasing your clit just how he always does.

“Toji,” you whimper, his name falling from your lips like a prayer.

“That’s it, princess,” he encourages, his voice thick with need. “Keep saying my name. Let me know how good it feels.”

You close your eyes, letting his voice guide you as your movements grow more insistent. “I wish you were here; my fingers can't do what yours do,” you whisper, your words shaky as the pleasure builds. “I need you so bad, Toji.”

“Fuck, baby, you’re killing me,” he groans, the sound of rustling fabric on his end letting you know he’s just as affected as you are. “I’d do anything to have you under me right now. To feel how tight you’d squeeze me when I’m deep inside you.” His hand finally snakes its way inside his boxers, his calloused finger soothing his aching red tip. Palm wrapped around the top, squeezing it in imitation of your tight walls.

"That's all I can think about, Toji," soft, needy whimpers leave your throat, "Having my legs on your shoulders as you break me off. Hitting that one spot deep inside me that always gets me creaming on your cock." Flashbacks of Toji's large hands holding you down, fucking into you as he forces you to watch, that frothy white ring around the base of his dick forming as juice splatter from his impact.

"Yeah, princess?" Toji groans, his voice dipping even lower, roughened by his own need. "You always know how to rile me up, don’t you? Keep talking, tell me exactly how you'd want me to fuck you."

You bite your lip, the weight of his words sending a fresh wave of heat through your core. "I’d want it slow at first," your fingers circle your clit agonizingly slow. Almost torturous like Toji does. "You’d tease me," you murmur, your voice catching as your fingers dip lower. "Make me beg for it, wouldn’t you? Make me tell you how much I need it, need you."

"Fuck," Toji growls, his breathing heavy in your ear. His hand strokes himself in sync with your words, his rough palm sliding over his length as he imagines you beneath him, squirming, needy, desperate. "I’d make you wait, baby. You know I love hearing you beg for me, hearing that pretty little voice say my name."

A shaky whimper escapes your lips, the sound almost too loud in the stillness of your living room. "I’d be so wet for you," you whisper, voice trembling as your fingers circle faster, dipping between your folds to gather more of your slickness. "You wouldn’t even have to ask, Toji. I’d be ready for you the second you touched me."

"Shit," he groans, gripping himself tighter as he pictures it. "You’d be dripping down your thighs, wouldn’t you? Making a fucking mess of yourself while you wait for me to fill you up."

"Yes," you gasp, your back arching against the couch as your body reacts to his words. Your free hand clutches at the fabric of his shirt, grounding yourself in his scent, his voice, the memory of his touch. "I need you so bad, Toji. I need to feel you stretching me out, filling me up until I can't take it anymore."

"Dip those pretty little fingers of yours inside your pussy, princess. Imagine it's me curling them and hitting that soft spot in ya," he grunts, trying to imagine the feeling of your tiny hole enveloping his large fingers.

You let out a soft moan, obeying his request, slipping two fingers into your warmth. The wet sound fills the quiet of the room, mixing with his heavy breathing on the line.

“I... I’m doing it, Toji,” you manage between hitched breaths. “It’s not the same... I can’t stretch myself like you do.”

“Fucking hell,” he growls, his hand pumping faster now, imagining the way your body clings to him when he’s buried inside you. “Tell me how it feels, princess. I need to hear everything.”

Your cheeks flush, the embarrassment drowned out by the heat curling in your belly. “It feels... good, but not enough. I can’t reach as deep as you, baby. I need you here. I need your fingers, your cock... all of you.”

“Shit, keep talking like that, and I’m gonna cum before you do,” he groans, his voice thick with frustration and longing. His strokes become erratic, the image of you—the sounds you're making—driving him closer to the edge. “I’d have you spread out under me right now, pretty legs shaking while I fuck you open. You’d take me so well, wouldn’t you?”

“Uh huh~,” you whimper, arching into your touch, fingers moving faster as you imagine him over you, his broad shoulders, the weight of his body pressing you down. “I’d take you so good... like I always do. I’d make such a mess for you.”

“You’d be dripping all over my cock, wouldn’t you? So tight, so perfect for me,” he rasps, his voice hitching slightly as his own hand works faster. You can hear the faint rustle of fabric, the wet sound of his strokes, and it sends a thrill through you, knowing he’s as close to the edge as you are.

“Toji, I’m so close,” you whine, your voice trembling with the mounting pleasure.

“Good girl,” he groans, his tone commanding but filled with adoration. “Let it go, princess. Cum for me. I wanna hear those pretty sounds when you fall apart for me.”

His words push you over the edge, a broken cry escaping your lips as your body tenses and then releases, waves of pleasure crashing through you. Toji’s name spills from your mouth in a litany, each moan sweeter than the last.

“Fuck,” he groans, his voice a low growl as he follows you over the edge, his own release ripping through him. You can hear his breaths, heavy and uneven, as he murmurs your name like a prayer.

For a moment, the two of you are silent, the only sounds the soft hum of the line and your shared breaths as you come down from the high.

“I needed that,” Toji finally mutters, his voice lighter now, the teasing edge creeping back in. "Been so pent up, jerking off to those pretty pictures you mail me like I'm a horny teenager."

You laugh softly, trying to imagine a sexually frustrated Toji hunched over your selfies trying to get himself off. “You’re insatiable, Toji.”

“For you? Always,” he replies, the warmth in his voice making your chest tighten with affection. "I miss being able to bend you over and fuck you wherever and whenever I want."

"Mmmm, I miss that too, baby," you hum, walking to the sink to wash your arousal-stained fingers. "Miss having my man with me all the time. Gets so lonely without my lover."

"I fucking love you, you know that?" Toji murmurs after a beat, his voice softer now, filled with an almost boyish sincerity.

A smile tugs at your lips, your heart swelling at his words. "I love you too, Toji," you reply, your voice tender.

The automated voice interrupts the moment, announcing that the call will end in one minute. Your chest tightens at the reminder, and you clutch the phone, wishing you could hold onto him just a little longer.

“You better be ready for me when I get out,” he says, his tone turning serious, almost possessive. “I’m not wasting a single second. First thing I’m doing is coming straight to you, and you’re not leaving my bed for days.”

"I'll be counting down the days, baby," a honeyed mewl leaves your lips, feeling light and airy still from your orgasm. "Until then... Behave yourself Toji Fushiguro."

He chuckles, the sound low and rich, and you can practically hear the grin in his voice. "No promises, princess," he teases. "But I’ll try. For you. Now before it hangs up, kiss me through the phone, baby."

Your heart squeezes at his request, the playful yet sincere edge in his voice making your chest ache with longing. Pressing the phone closer to your lips, you whisper, "Mwah," letting it carry all the tenderness you can muster.

A low hum of approval comes through the line. "Mmm, that’s what I like to hear," he drawls, his voice dripping with satisfaction. "I’ll be dreaming about that one, princess."

The automated voice chimes in again, colder this time, signaling the end of the call in mere seconds. "I love you," you blurt out, the words rushing out like a lifeline.

"I love you more," he says firmly, the weight of his promise grounding you. "Be good for me, princess. I’ll be home before you know it."

The line clicks dead before you can respond, the abrupt silence leaving an ache in its wake. You lower the phone slowly, staring at the screen as if willing it to light up again with his name. His words replay in your head. You could hold it down for him, he'll be home before you know it.

[flwernyrvie]

Lazy Mornings

Se-Mi x f!reader

Synopsis: a lazy morning routine with your lovely girlfriend, Se-Mi

Warnings: mentions of 'y/n'

Contents: just fluff and loves ♥

(credits to the blogger whom I got the boarder btw!!!)

Sunlight streamed through the curtains, casting a warm glow across the room. Y/n was the first to stir, her eyes fluttering open to find herself nestled against Se-Mi’s chest. Se-Mi’s arm was draped protectively around her waist, holding her close even in her sleep.

Y/n smiled softly, brushing a strand of hair from Se-Mi’s peaceful face. She looked so serene, her usual confident, playful demeanor replaced by a rare vulnerability. Y/n leaned up and pressed a gentle kiss to her cheek.

"Mmm," Se-Mi murmured, her eyes still closed. "If you’re going to kiss me, at least do it properly."

Y/n rolled her eyes, laughing softly. "Good morning to you too."

Se-Mi finally opened one eye, a lazy grin spreading across her face. "Morning, wife," she teased, pulling her wife— or rather future wife closer.

"You can’t keep calling me that until it’s official," the younger girl said, though her cheeks flushed at the term.

"Technicalities," Se-Mi muttered, flipping them over so she was hovering above y/n. "You’re mine either way."

She laughed, wrapping her arms around Se-Mi’s neck. "Confident, aren’t we?"

Se-Mi smirked, leaning down to capture her lips in a slow, lingering kiss. "With you? Always."

They spent the morning tangled in each other, sharing soft kisses and whispered conversations about nothing and everything. Se-Mi occasionally tickled y/n just to hear her laugh, earning herself playful swats in return.

Eventually, their stomachs started growling, and y/n reluctantly pulled away. "We should eat something."

Se-Mi groaned, burying her face in y/n's neck. "Or we could stay here forever."

"And starve?" Y/n teased, laughing as Se-Mi nibbled lightly on her neck in protest.

"Fine," Se-Mi said dramatically, sitting up. "But only because you make the best pancakes."

She rolled her eyes, grabbing a pillow and tossing it at her. "Get up and help me, you lazy bum."

"Yes, ma’am," Se-Mi said with a mock salute, grabbing y/n's hand and pulling her toward the kitchen.

As they cooked together—y/n expertly flipping pancakes while Se-Mi tried (and failed) to crack eggs without making a mess—they couldn’t stop stealing glances and small touches.

By the time they sat down to eat, the table was filled with more laughter than food. "You’re lucky I love you," y/n said, shaking her head as Se-Mi stole a bite of her pancake.

"I know," Se-Mi said with a wink, leaning over to kiss her. "And I love you more."

~°~♥~°~ the end ~°~♥~°~

[duhshereadz]

More Arcane head cannons because I can’t stop:

---

Jinx (Powder)

- She has a habit of giving her bombs cute names, like “Boomy” or “Snappy,” and talks to them as if they’re her friends.

- She bites her nails so much that she paints them just to make herself stop, but the paint usually gets chipped after a day.

- She doodles all over her arms when she’s bored, even though she knows it’ll smudge.

- Jinx absolutely hates vegetables, but she’ll eat them if you lie and call them “explosion fuel.”

- She has a surprising knack for sewing and will patch up her stuffed toys obsessively.

- She hums offbeat, made-up songs when tinkering, and sometimes they turn into actual catchy tunes.

- Jinx would totally put googly eyes on her weapons for no reason other than to make herself laugh.

- She hoards random shiny objects and insists they’ll be “important later,” even if it’s just a bottle cap.

- She’s constantly barefoot because she hates the feeling of shoes.

---

Vi

- Vi makes terrible coffee but drinks it anyway because she’s convinced it gives her “character.”

- She’s surprisingly superstitious and always knocks on wood when she feels like she’s jinxed something.

- Vi collects random keychains from places she visits and hangs them all over her belt like trophies.

- She pretends not to care about her hair, but she secretly spends time making sure it’s styled just the right amount of messy.

- She gives people nicknames that have nothing to do with their real name.

- Vi can’t whistle, and it drives her nuts when others do it effortlessly.

- She’s an amazing dancer but will only admit it when she’s had a few drinks.

- Vi always takes up too much space on couches, sprawling across them without a care.

- She secretly loves fluffy, cozy blankets and has a stash of them in her room.

---

Caitlyn Kiramman

- Caitlyn cannot function without a proper breakfast, and she gets cranky if she misses it.

- She’s weirdly good at chess, but she plays so competitively that no one likes going up against her.

- Caitlyn absolutely has a planner and writes everything in it, even things she doesn’t actually need to remember.

- She’s awful at video games and gets super flustered when she loses, which makes Vi tease her endlessly.

- Caitlyn secretly loves cheesy romance novels but keeps them hidden on a high shelf.

- Her guilty pleasure is eating dessert before dinner when no one is looking.

- Caitlyn’s handwriting is ridiculously neat, but she gets annoyed if anyone compliments it too much.

- She’s terrible at telling jokes, but her deadpan delivery somehow makes them funny anyway.

- Caitlyn refuses to wear mismatched socks—ever. It would ruin her whole day.

---

Jayce Talis

- Jayce is a terrible cook and once managed to burn water, but he insists he’s “just experimental in the kitchen.”

- He talks to himself when working, narrating every step like he’s in a tutorial video.

- Jayce has a stash of energy drinks he tries to keep secret because he knows they’re unhealthy.

- He always takes forever to get ready because he’s obsessed with looking polished, even if he’s just going to his lab.

- Jayce is weirdly good at folding fitted sheets, but he keeps that talent to himself.

- He tries to keep plants in his apartment for “aesthetic reasons,” but they always die within a week.

- Jayce collects notebooks but never fills them out because he “doesn’t want to waste them.”

- He has the worst poker face and can’t lie to save his life.

- Jayce has an elaborate skincare routine and won’t go to bed without following it.

---

Viktor

- Viktor sometimes forgets to eat while working, so he keeps random snacks hidden in his desk drawers.

- He’s the type to re-read books he’s already memorized just because it brings him comfort.

- Viktor hums classical music under his breath when he’s deep in thought.

- He’s absurdly good at mental math and sometimes mutters equations when he’s bored.

- Viktor absolutely talks to his tools and machines, even apologizing to them when they malfunction.

- He hoards broken parts or failed prototypes because he thinks he might use them “someday.”

- He doesn’t drink coffee, preferring tea, but it’s always cold by the time he remembers to drink it.

- Viktor sleeps in the weirdest positions, like half-falling off the bed but somehow comfortable.

- He’s lowkey very sentimental, keeping tiny mementos from his childhood in Zaun.

---

Silco

- Silco keeps his surroundings ridiculously neat and loses his temper if anything is out of place.

- He’s surprisingly good at card games but gets irritated when people accuse him of cheating.

- Silco never, *ever* lets anyone touch his chair in the office. It’s his throne.

- He prefers bitter drinks and thinks anything sweet is “a waste of time.”

- He secretly practices his speeches in front of a mirror to make sure he sounds menacing enough.

- Silco keeps a journal, but it’s filled with cryptic notes that only make sense to him.

- He absolutely hates bright colors and insists on everything being muted or dark-toned.

- Silco’s a night owl who rarely sleeps, and when he does, he can fall asleep sitting up.

- He secretly enjoys playing mind games just to see how long people take to figure it out.

---

Ekko

- Ekko is the type to doodle on absolutely everything, from walls to random scraps of paper.

- He always carries a deck of playing cards with him, and he’s amazing at sleight-of-hand tricks.

- Ekko has a sweet tooth and will go out of his way for pastries or candy.

- He has an old, beat-up notebook full of his plans and ideas, but it’s barely legible to anyone else.

- Ekko’s ridiculously good at climbing, treating it like a sport even when he doesn’t need to.

- He likes making little gadgets just for fun, like wind-up toys or tiny flashlights.

- Ekko is a surprisingly good dancer, but he only busts out moves when the mood strikes.

[rabidjackalope]

Please Don't Go ~ JJ Maybank

I'm so excited to write this because for the first time in months, I got the inspo from this nsfw audio on reddit so I'd heavily recommend listening to it (a good portion of the dialogue takes inspo from the audio)!!

summary - JJ takes you for a walk in the woods, you stop in a meadow where JJ tells you about his ex kie and he tells you want happens if you leave him SMUT/DUBCON NOT PROOF READ

dedicated to @starfxkrinc <3

The morning had started out truly peaceful, JJ had taking you on an early morning walk with him up by the abandoned church. Which was an out of character for JJ, considering he'd never once got up for his morning slash every afternoon shifts at the county club on time, but JJ had made the event urgent so you entertained him. You sluggishly followed behind him, noting how half the island was most likely asleep at this hour. The two of you approach a clear opening, a meadow filled with clovers and lone magonlia tree tucked in the corner. JJ lead you to the magnolia tree, sitting with back to the tree and pulling you to sit in his lap. As you get begin to lay your head on his chest, he asked you question.

"Do you remember Kie?" JJ asked. "Yeah, I remember her. Do you miss her or something? You answered sarcastically "No reason to get all jealous sweetheart." He bite back. "I was just thinking about how nice everything was in the start, but there was this one thing she couldn't do for me." JJ explained. "I asked her to just follow one simple rule, it was to never leave me. After everything with my dad, I just wanted one stable person in who would just stay." He continued. "You've never asked me about staying." You thought out loud, slowly raising your gaze to JJ. He smiled down at you and cupped your face in his hands. "I know, that's why I'm telling you now." He clarified. 'I asked her so many times to stay, she never did. Always one foot out the door to a Kook life and one foot in the Pouges, everyone said she'd leave because she was just in her "teenage rebellion" phases but I didn't care. I thought I was gonna marry her." JJ spoke earnestly. "Kie never promised to stay so I had to get rid of her." JJ admitted coldly.

"Of course this was all before I met you, your more loyal then she ever could have been." He said as he leaned in to kiss you. JJ kissed you with a deep passion you had never felt from him before, but something about the way JJ spoke about Kie sat wrong with you. You began to grow weary of his touch and pulled away from his kiss. "Why are you pulling away from him?' JJ questioned you, shocked by your actions. "Look at me and tell me what's wrong." He instructed you. You don't answer, staring at the grass beneath you. "I just said you were such a good, loyal girl. Yet you don't want to listen." JJ said with a chuckle. You keep your gaze low, terrified to look at him. JJ wrapped his large ring adorn hand around your jaw, forcing your eyes to meet his. "I told you to fucking look at me.' He shouted in your face. You attempted to pray his hand off your jaw but it was no use considering how much stronger JJ was. "I do not like repeating myself little girl, no tell me what's wrong?" He formally reminded you. "How did you get rid of Kie?" You ask with a weak voice. A smirk painted itself across JJ's face. "Are you sure you wanna know that?" He asked jokingly. "I'll tell you while I fuck you under this tree, then you'll never be able to leave." JJ knew once he told you what really happened to Kie you'd be bonded to him forever. Never leaving his side ever again.

"I do think that's a good idea JJ, maybe we should go home and talk about it." You tried suggesting. "I don't remember asking for your opinion sweetheart." He said with a pout. "You wanted to know what happened to Kie, you can't act like a fucking brat then expect not to get punished." JJ said as he shoved you to the ground pressing you face to the ground and hiking your ass in the air. Once in position he grabbed you by the ankles to a more shaded area of the tree, almost like he wanted you in a specific patch of grass. JJ began to take you pants and underwear off, slowly rubbing the fat off your ass. "You're always prettiest when you're on your knees." His compliment was followed by a hard smack on your ass, you whimper at the sting left behind. JJ lets out a laugh at your pain, he always took a disgusting pleasure in your pain. "You did this to yourself. Asking big girl questions then backing out last second." Each of his words were followed by a strike on the ass. "You need to commit, remember that you're here to stay." JJ stopped his assault on your ass and went back to rubbing it. "You can never leave me, then you'll be just like them. Just like dad and Kie." JJ muttered to himself, almost like a reminder as to why he was doing this in the first place.

JJ rose to his knees, undoing his jeans and pulling his boxers down. He took his cock into his hand, slowly rubbing himself as he lined himself up with your cunt. "You need to promise me you"ll never leave." JJ moaned as he began pushing himself into your wet cunt. He brushed the dirt and hair off of your face, give you both a clear view of one another. His hand slowly snaked down to your throat, choking you, and causing all your moans to be transformed into muffled groans. "You sound just like her, fuck baby." JJ whimpered, your plush velvet walls began squeezing JJ's cock like a vice. He began to grow more delirious and uncalculated as he fucked you, you always where he greatest weakness. You looked up at JJ with a dazed, confused look. Trying to understand what he meant. "You wanna know why I bought you here? Kie took me her when she told me she was leaving the pouges." JJ started to explain with at stranded voice. "She told me her parents was making her marry Rafe so that they could keep their restaurant. They signed to property over to Ward so they wouldn't lose it to the county." The recalling over the breakup caused JJ to pick up his pace, his thrusts now more rough and rushed. This new pace caused you to claw that dirt beneath you, trying to crawl away from JJ. However JJ caught onto this and pinned you down you the shoulders. "Like I was staying." He was angrily. "She told me we needed to end things, but I couldn't let her go after all I did for her. I begged her to run away with me to Yucatán, but she wanted to stay." JJ took a deep breath before continuing. "I saw red when she said no, next thing I knew I was onto of her choking her. I choked her so hard I felt her last breath." JJ started chucking as he recalled the event. "I buried her right where that lovely cheeks is pressed to right now." He revealed as he moved his hand from your right shoulder to your cheek, pressing it formally in the dirt. "You lying JJ, you wouldn't kill Kie." You said, less out of disbelief and more out of the fact you couldn't except JJ was a killer. "I can dig the bitch up if you want." He proposed. "She can watch us too." JJ playfully said as he bend over to kiss your cheek. You sob uncontrollably as JJ kept abusing your cunt

"Im gonna cum in this cunt. It's gonna be my cunt till the end of time you understand?" JJ asked, you stupidly didn't answer. "I said do you understand you empty minded bitch?" He screamed in your face as he grabbed your hair, pulling you flush against his back. "I understand JJ, I'll never leave. I'll go everywhere with you." You answered him. "Good girl, you're so much better than her. Now cum for me." JJ commanded you, your orgasm washed over all the shame and guilty you felt. JJ came shortly after you, making sure to stay deep with you so his seed would paint your cervix. JJ pulled out his cock only to shortly replace it with his fingers. "If you ever leave, I'll bury you here with her understand?"

~ love bay-bay (OMG SO HAPPY I WROTE THIS, college has killed me and I go back next week..... I've been considering dropping out and might actually do it next semester tbh, this also my first time wiring smut in years so pls be nice!!)

[nomsfaultau]

The inarticulate growl broke out of Tommy’s throat, and he lunged for the door, moving at inhuman speeds that tore wind at Philza’s garments. Snarling, he threw his body across, blocking the entrance to Tubbo. Philza was unphased. “Oh. Territorial are we?”

All Tommy could get out was a vicious growl. He sounded like an animal. When he tried to speak it couldn’t break out. Tommy could barely get his thoughts into words, and the swelling rage that he’d been reduced to the mindless territorial growl of a predator only made it worse as he bristled at the man who’d done this to him. 

Philza grinned. “I thought threatening a claimed meal would do the trick. But really,  you’re feral at this point. Without me you’ll just kill him. Unless that’s what you prefer?” Philza had been expecting the lunge and seized him by the throat to prevent the bite. But the claws raking across his chest were a surprise. At the scent of fresher blood, Tommy’s pupils became thin slits. 

“I thought not. But you must admit you aren’t inspiring much confidence as to your control. Once you agree to let me turn Tubbo, I’ll let you feed from me. It’s the only way for you to be safe around him in his last moments of humanity. You do want to be there to celebrate, don’t you?”

It overwhelmed him. The tantalizing promise of blood blotted out everything else. His sire radiated heat from a recent kill, it would be practically fresh. Tommy’s chest heaved, lungs straining to fill. But to do that he had to give up his prey.

Friend. Prey. Friend. Prey. Tubbo flickered in Tommy’s mind, human and vampire instincts one and the same either way. Fresh blood, the kind his body was screaming for. Fresh love, so unlike this rotten version Philza offered. Mine. 

(And some quiet, real part of him pleading he not doom Tubbo to become the same possessive parasite he was. But Tommy could only pretend he was listening to that.)

The click of a doorknob and Tommy snapped, clawing into Philza’s arm. His sire recoiled. A low growl filled the room, the fledgeling baring his teeth when Philza tried to close his unconscious retreat. 

“Even now you’re resisting?” Philza’s smile dropped. “You…really are determined to protect this one human. Even now.” His words sounded bitter. “Fine. He can be free.” Abruptly, the growl in Tommy’s throat spluttered and choked, cut off in surprise. Please with the pronounced effect, Philza purred, “all you have to do is promise to stay.”

Everything was a blur in his head. The intoxicating scent of blood. The fear of his coven. The desperation for Tubbo to be safe. The part of him that really did want to keep Tubbo forever. 

The door he was pressed to shuddered as Philza broke the lock, pressure at his back giving away to air. Impulsively, Tommy shoved him back, filling the doorway. As the door slammed shut, a split second perfect shock was captured on Philza’s features before it was smothered. “If you really wanted to save Tubbo you would’ve taken the offer in less than one of his heart beats.”

And later the scathing words would haunt him for the rest of his life, but the Tommy of the now knew only the threat before him. All Tommy could do was growl as Philza calmly approached. “We vampires are territorial things, you know,” he murmured, leaning in so close that there was nowhere left to retreat back, thin wood beginning to splinter into Tommy’s back. Nowhere to run. Too close.

The glow of his red eye was a thin sliver as Philza captured him periphery. “I know what those instincts are screaming right now. You want him all for yourself. Dead or undead, doesn’t matter as long as it’s at your hands. It scares you. I know it does. But this too is love. I would recognize it anywhere, since it’s why I made you mine.”

“Actually, it’s cause Tommy knows I wouldn’t leave him behind.” Both vampires froze at Tubbo’s voice. 

“Then chose to stay,” Philza recovered. “I would love to have you, Tubbo, and it’s this or a grisly fate.”

“Alright, turn me. It sure beats dying.”

Pure animalistic hatred. Tommy’s roar echoed in the small bathroom, distorted and overwhelming. Philza unconsciously took a step back. 

“LEAVE HIM ALONE!” Tubbo screamed, pounding at the door. Tommy’s snarl only grew, determined to protect his ———-. He pressed forward, fiercely defensive. Philza caught his wrists, starting to struggle to hold Tommy back as blood desperation mounted. He leaned into the brutish strength, the world going pure red. The scent of Philza’s blood stung the air. He pushed the prey further and further back, relishing Philza’s widening eyes. The strength of a freshly fed vampire could barely hold back a feeding frenzy, closer and closer to overpowering and draining the threat to his territory-

Till his hearing caught the scrape of metal as the door began to slam open. Faster than a blink Tommy was there, catching the doorknob and wrenching it shut. The metal broke in his hands, stomach lurching as Tubbo swung it open, stake poised only for Tommy to dig his claws deep into the wood. The human couldn’t do much against the brunt of his might, pounding at the door demanding to be let in. 

A blur in his vision, and Tommy’s head whipped around, fangs bared. He bucked at Philza to keep him at bay. Tommy ensnared between human and vampire, both sides crushing him between in their determination to kill the other, and his desire to kill them both. He hated this, hated them more, everything in his head jumbled into incomprehensible tangles he’s wasn’t sentient enough to grasp. Fear, fervor, fury, famish, famish, famish, feeding- it all escaped only as a wounded growl. 

Tubbo banged furiously at the door. “STOP ATTACKING HIM! JUST LEAVE US ALONE YOU MONSTER!”

“Oh sweet Tubbo, it won’t be I who kills you if you open that door,” Philza called, catching Tommy by the jaw when he tried to instinctively bite. 

Somewhere in the swirl of bloodlust rose a great shame. He was salivating uncontrollably. It suddenly felt uncomfortable, natural, he wasn’t supposed to be like this. Tommy was a child, once, not a ravenous thing. 

“As I was saying,” Philza said, sounding breathless for all that he had been so for centuries. He traced a thumb along the arc of Tommy’s bared fang. “You’re right, I did make you this, because I love you. And I will love every part of you even if you can’t.” The tooth caught, slicing through the pad of his thumb. Tommy’s mouth exploded with fresh blood, and it felt like a small gasp of air after drowning beneath tumultuous waves.

The fresh blood only made his appetite awake with a howl, thinking it was finally, finally time to feast. Philza knew what he was doing. He didn’t flinch as Tommy bit the finger off. Greedily feeding, Tommy’s eyes sunk close, leaning in as Philza pet his hair. “There you go, love. I need you to be lucid for this next part.”

Tommy hissed as the hand wrenched, biting harder, but Philza ripped the precious blood away, muzzling his jaw with one hand. His fingers dug in painfully.

The world became crisp, color almost painfully vivid as it washed in. Disgusted, Tommy spat out the finger. But he already knew hours later he’d be shredding it for every last drop of blood. His knees nearly buckled on the horror of what he’d become. Tubbo. Oh god Tubbo. What must he think, waiting in terror for the moment his best friend finally lost control? And yet even this overwhelming revulsion-fear-anguish would fade soon, this gasp of fresh blood not enough to last eternity. This lucidity would vanish, made all the more horrific for the fact he could do nothing to stop its cessation.  

“Are you reasonable again?” The first words Tommy managed were a long string of swears. “That suffices. I know you think I’m cruel. It’s because I am. That’s the type of love reserved for a coven. To find out my precious fledgeling loves an insignificant human more than his own sire…well I couldn’t have that could I? And I really did try to do this the kind way by having him join, but your behavior has been unacceptable. Insulting your brother, hurting yourself, attacking your own sire for the sake of a human-“ his oil slick anger choked Tommy, ever so briefly, just a small trickle of his real ire. “Well. Upon reflection, I’ve changed my mind. I’ve been too lenient with your rebellious phase. For the rest of eternity, every time you think of disobeying me I want you to remember how it felt to eviscerate your Tubbo.”

Philza pressed a cold kiss to his forehead, and evaporated into a crow. Tommy was left with a blood soaked mouth and a few precious few moments of clarity holding insatiable thirst at bay. 

His own mind was the worst kind of traitor. Tommy could deal with the part of him desperate to devour Tubbo, drive back the repulsive thought with choking horror, with pain. It was the other voice that scared him more, the one that asked if it would really be so bad to make Tubbo into a monster, too. That said this was his last chance before he killed his friend.

Because the real thing that scared Tommy about being a vampire wasn’t being a monster. It was being abandoned, one by one, as his human friend died, be it by his hands or something else. It was centuries down the line having nothing and no one. It was being alone. Cursed to survive, and survive, and survive. 

I had a dream about vampire dark sbi, where Tommy was turned into a fledgling against his will and was desperate to escape. His coven had other ideas however, and so Tommy was constantly getting hunted down by Philza, Techno, and the Jawless One.

oh. Were you you expecting Wilbur? No that dude is problematic, and my dream presented the ideal solution: replacing him with a monster made of long mangled limbs and a ripped off jaw that dangles on a thread of viscera. So I’m just sayin, here’s how 4/4 can still work-

[aspenmissing]

Can you do jayvik x reader were we get stuck in the lab in the middle of the winter (The door to the lab was covered with snow because a window broken or something) and it’s freezing cold in the lab which makes jayce panic and try to keep reader and Viktor warm?

ᴀ ʟᴏɴɢ ɴɪɢʜᴛ

ᴊᴀʏᴠɪᴋ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ || ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ/ᴀɴɢꜱᴛ || 2798 ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ɴᴇᴀʀ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ, ꜰʀᴇᴇᴢɪɴɢ

ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛ ᴀɴꜱᴡᴇʀ: ɪ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪᴅᴇᴀ! ʙʀɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ꜰᴇᴇʟꜱ! ʙʀɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ᴀɴɢꜱᴛ! ʙᴜᴛ ɪ ʜᴀᴅ ᴍʏ ꜰᴜɴ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇ ᴀɴɢꜱᴛ, ꜱᴏ ᴀʟꜱᴏ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ꜱᴏᴍᴇ ᴄᴏᴍꜰᴏʀᴛ <3

ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ | ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ | ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ

The harsh winds howled outside, rattling the windowpanes of the lab with an almost eerie persistence. Each gust sent a sharp creak through the glass, and Jayce couldn’t help but flinch, his broad shoulders tensing with every noise. The storm’s fury clawed at the building, demanding entrance, and the distant sound of metal grinding against stone only added to the foreboding atmosphere.

Jayce glanced at the window nervously, his jaw tight as he tried to focus on packing their notes into neat stacks. His hands were clumsy, trembling slightly as the weight of his unease pressed down on him.

“Jayce, love, it’s just the wind,” Y/N said softly, placing a reassuring hand on his arm. Her touch was warm, grounding, and her voice carried a calm certainty that helped him breathe a little easier.

He forced a small smile and nodded. “I know. It’s just… loud.”

“Y/N’s right,” Viktor added, his voice calm despite the storm outside. He leaned on his cane, moving closer to Jayce with deliberate steps. “The lab is sturdy. We’ll be home soon. The storm cannot last forever.”

Jayce gave them both a weak smile, though the tension in his face lingered. He cast another wary glance at the window, his chest tightening with every shriek of the wind. They both knew why storms like this unsettled him so deeply, even though he rarely spoke of it. They didn’t need him to.

“We’ll be fine,” Y/N said gently, reaching up to touch his cheek. “Let’s just finish up quickly, and we’ll be out of here before it gets worse.”

The three of them worked swiftly, the occasional sharp whistle of the wind causing Jayce to pause and glance over his shoulder. Papers were neatly stacked, tools and materials carefully packed away. But as they hurried, the storm outside grew fiercer, and with one particularly vicious gust, fate made its move.

A deafening crack rang out as the window shattered inward. Shards of glass flew through the air, catching the dim light of the lab like deadly stars. The icy wind roared into the room, scattering papers and sending the curtains flailing wildly.

“Watch out!” Jayce shouted, his voice sharp with alarm. He instinctively grabbed Y/N and Viktor, pulling them close to shield them as shards of glass and icy wind tore through the room. The storm howled with unrelenting ferocity, drowning out the sounds of their hurried breaths.

Before any of them could react further, a heavy shelf overloaded with equipment teetered dangerously before crashing down with a deafening thud. It slammed against the lab door, blocking their only exit. The impact sent vibrations rippling through the floor, scattering papers, tools, and debris.

A stunned silence followed, broken only by the howling wind and Jayce’s rapid breathing. His arms stayed protectively around Y/N and Viktor, his chest rising and falling as the realisation hit them all at once: they were trapped.

The biting wind swept through the room, cutting through their clothing and chilling them to the bone. Jayce’s heart pounded as he scanned the room, his mind racing. They needed shelter—something, anything, to block out the cold.

“Stay here,” he said firmly, his protective instincts taking over. He moved quickly, grabbing desks and chairs and pushing them together in the corner farthest from the broken window. His hands trembled, not just from the cold, but from the sheer need to protect the two people he loved most in the world.

“Come on, under here,” he urged, guiding Viktor and Y/N beneath the makeshift cover. The three of them huddled together as they worked to find every blanket, coat, and scrap of fabric they could. The icy wind was relentless, and the temperature in the room was dropping rapidly.

Jayce wrapped Y/N tightly in a thick blanket first, tucking it around her shoulders and ensuring no part of her was exposed. He then turned to Viktor, gently pulling his coat tighter and draping another blanket over him. Only once he was satisfied they were both as warm as possible did he sit down and pull a blanket over himself.

“You need to take care of yourself too, Jayce,” Viktor murmured, his voice quiet but laced with concern. He adjusted his position, leaning closer to Jayce and offering some of his own warmth.

“I’m fine,” Jayce insisted, wrapping an arm around both Viktor and Y/N, pulling them closer. His voice was steady, but the tightness in his expression betrayed him. “You two come first.”

The hours dragged on, the lab growing colder with every passing minute. Their breath formed white clouds in the air, and their shivering became harder to control. The occasional groan of the wind outside was the only sound, each one a grim reminder of how unforgiving the storm had become.

Jayce, however, couldn’t stay still. Every few minutes, he left the safety of their makeshift shelter to try and clear the heavy shelves blocking the door. His muscles strained as he pushed and pulled, but the shelves wouldn’t budge under their weight. The icy wind clawed at his exposed skin, making his fingers stiff and raw, yet he refused to stop.

“Jayce, come back!” Y/N called, her voice trembling, though whether from the cold or worry, it was hard to tell. “You’re going to freeze out there!”

“You can’t do this alone,” Viktor added, his tone sharp despite his exhaustion. He leaned forward slightly, his cane resting beside him, watching Jayce with a frown. “You’re not helping anyone if you collapse.”

“I have to get us out of here!” Jayce shot back, his voice tight with frustration. He threw his weight against the shelf again, only for it to barely shift. His breath came out in harsh puffs, visible in the freezing air.

“You have to stop,” Y/N pleaded, her hand clutching the edge of the blanket wrapped around her. “Please, Jayce. Come back.”

He hesitated for a moment, glancing back at them huddled together beneath the desks. The sight of their pale faces and trembling forms tugged at his heart, but he turned back to the door, resolute. “I’ll be fine. Just stay warm.”

=

Minutes passed, the wind growing fiercer, and Jayce’s attempts at clearing the door grew more frantic. He ignored the stinging cold and the growing ache in his limbs, focused only on the idea of freeing them.

It wasn’t until Viktor’s worried voice broke through the storm’s howling that he finally stopped. “Jayce,” Viktor called, his voice low and urgent. “Y/N… something’s wrong.”

Jayce spun around instantly, his chest tightening as he hurried back to them. Y/N had begun shifting restlessly, her movements sluggish at first but growing more agitated. Her hands fumbled weakly with the blankets, trying to push them away.

“Y/N, stop,” Viktor said gently, catching her hands before she could unwrap herself. “You need to stay covered.”

“But I’m… too hot,” Y/N murmured weakly, her voice slurred and barely audible. Her face was flushed, beads of sweat forming on her brow despite the freezing cold. She groaned softly, struggling against Viktor’s hold.

Jayce dropped to his knees beside her, his heart pounding. He cupped her face with his hands, wincing at how warm her skin felt beneath his cold fingers. “Stay with us, love,” he whispered, his voice thick with worry. He pulled her close, cradling her against his chest as if his warmth alone could steady her. “You’re just cold and exhausted. Don’t fight it.”

Viktor placed a hand on Y/N’s forehead, his brow furrowing deeply. “She’s burning up. This isn’t good.” He glanced at Jayce, his expression dark with concern. “Her body is trying to fight the cold, but it’s working against her now. We need to keep her warm, but we cannot let her overheat.”

Jayce’s jaw tightened, guilt crashing over him. He wrapped his arms securely around Y/N, adjusting the blankets around her. “I shouldn’t have left…” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper.

“You’re here now,” Viktor said softly, resting his head against Jayce’s shoulder. His hand found Y/N’s arm, his touch gentle and grounding. “That’s what matters.”

The three of them huddled together under the makeshift shelter, their combined warmth the only thing keeping the cold at bay. Jayce pressed a kiss to Y/N’s temple, his voice a soft murmur as he reassured her. Viktor’s steady presence and quiet words of comfort created a fragile sense of calm amidst the chaos.

Jayce held Y/N a little tighter, his resolve firm now. He wouldn’t leave them again—not until the storm passed, not until rescue arrived. They were stronger together, and together, they would endure the long, frozen night.

The hours dragged on, the cold becoming an oppressive weight that seemed to seep into their very bones. The wind outside showed no sign of relenting, and the lab felt like a prison of ice. Huddled beneath the makeshift shelter, Jayce held Y/N and Viktor as close as he could, sharing his warmth as best he could, but the cold was relentless.

Y/N had grown alarmingly quiet. Her eyes fluttered open and shut, her breaths shallow and uneven. Her once-flushed face was now pale, her skin icy to the touch. She tried to speak, her lips trembling as she forced out faint words.

“Jayce…” Her voice was weak, barely audible, but it reached him like a bell cutting through the storm. “You’ll… get us out. I know you will.” Her gaze, though dim, held a flicker of trust, of hope, before her eyes closed once more, her body slackening against him.

Jayce’s chest tightened, panic surging in his veins. “Y/N? Stay with me, love. Don’t give up. Just stay with me!” He shook her gently, his voice cracking, but she didn’t respond.

Beside her, Viktor leaned heavily against Jayce, his head drooping. He was shivering uncontrollably, his breathing laboured. “Jayce… don’t waste your strength…” Viktor murmured, his voice faint and laced with pain. His joints ached terribly from the cold, and his usually sharp mind felt sluggish.

Jayce bit down on the rising panic, forcing himself to focus. He adjusted the blankets around them both, pulling them tighter. “I’m not wasting anything. I’m going to get us out of here,” he said firmly, though his voice wavered slightly as he looked at their pale, weakened forms.

Gritting his teeth, he leaned them closer together, carefully resting Y/N against Viktor. He brushed a gentle kiss against Y/N’s forehead, then Viktor’s temple, before stepping away. “I’ll be right back. I promise,” he whispered.

Jayce turned to the toppled shelf blocking the door, his body trembling from both the cold and the weight of his determination. He pressed his hands against it, grunting as he pushed with all his strength. The shelf barely moved, but he refused to give up. The image of Y/N’s hopeful words and Viktor’s quiet faith burned in his mind, giving him strength.

He glanced back at them, both slumped together beneath the blankets. Y/N’s lips were slightly blue, and Viktor’s breaths were so faint they were almost imperceptible. The sight broke something in Jayce, but it also fuelled him. “I won’t let you down,” he whispered, his voice trembling with emotion.

With a deep breath, Jayce bent down and gripped the edge of the shelf, his muscles screaming in protest as he lifted. The shelf was unbearably heavy, the cold making his movements stiff and agonising, but he pushed through it. “Come on,” he growled through clenched teeth, his body shaking from the effort.

The shelf began to budge, inch by inch, as Jayce let out a roar of effort. His boots slid slightly on the icy floor, but he held his ground, shoving the shelf just enough to clear a gap at the door. His heart hammered in his chest as he wrenched the door open, the freezing wind nearly knocking him off balance.

Wasting no time, Jayce rushed back to Y/N and Viktor. He knelt beside them, gathering them both in his arms as carefully as he could. “I’ve got you,” he whispered, his voice shaking but determined. He pressed Y/N’s head against his chest, wrapping her in the thickest part of his coat, while supporting Viktor with his other arm.

With a deep breath, Jayce stood, cradling them both as he staggered towards the open door. The icy air bit at his face, but he pushed forward, holding them tightly. Step by step, he moved through the storm, his body aching but his resolve unbroken.

“I won’t lose you,” Jayce muttered, his voice firm despite his exhaustion. He tightened his grip, his warmth shielding them as he carried them to safety, driven by the unwavering love he held for them both.

Viktor’s eyes fluttered open, a strange warmth enveloping him, a stark contrast to the cold he’d felt for so long. His mind was groggy, disoriented. He blinked, trying to focus, and realised he was lying on something soft—something that was moving, shifting beneath him. The rhythmic rise and fall of the surface made his confusion deepen. He turned his head, his breath catching in his throat as his eyes landed on Jayce.

Jayce was beneath him, his chest exposed, the muscles underneath relaxed in sleep. The faint glow of firelight flickered in the room, casting long shadows, and Viktor could feel the heat emanating from the roaring fire nearby. His brow furrowed, realising he was no longer in the lab, no longer trapped in the freezing cold. They had somehow made it out.

His gaze shifted from Jayce to Y/N, who was nestled into his side, her head resting comfortably on his chest. The blanket had been pulled around them, but Viktor noticed with a jolt that the three of them were barely clothed. Only the blanket shielded them from the cold, its thickness almost laughable compared to the harsh elements they’d endured earlier.

Y/N’s lips no longer had that bluish tint, and her body had stopped shivering. She looked peaceful, her breathing steady, the flush of fever from earlier now replaced with a calm, healthy warmth. One of Jayce's arms was wrapped around her, pulling her close, his grip possessive and protective, even in his sleep.

Viktor, still groggy from the ordeal, lifted the blanket slightly, carefully inspecting their situation. The sight of their nearly naked forms in front of the fire sent a wave of embarrassment through him. They had done what they needed to in order to survive, but the intimacy of the moment was not lost on him. His heart skipped a beat as he looked at them both.

His thoughts were a whirlwind, but above all, relief flooded through him. They had made it. Jayce had saved them—had carried them both out of the storm. The warmth surrounding them, the steady breathing of the two closest people in his life, was a balm to his aching soul.

Viktor gently lowered the blanket back into place, making sure not to disturb either of them. His body ached, a mix of exhaustion and the lingering effects of the cold, but he couldn’t help but feel a sense of calm wash over him. As the warmth of the room surrounded him, he let out a quiet sigh and rested his head against the softness beneath him.

The fire crackled nearby, sending warm, flickering light across the room, and the steady rise and fall of Jayce’s chest beneath him was soothing—reassuring. Viktor’s thoughts wandered, his mind still processing everything that had happened. But more than that, he was overcome with the overwhelming relief that they had made it out alive, together.

His hand shifted, reaching out slowly to gently take Y/N’s hand, her fingers cool but steady in his. The contact, even in her unconscious state, brought him a sense of connection, of reassurance that they were all still here. Carefully, he brought their joined hands to rest on Jayce’s chest, both of them lying there, close, as if somehow grounding each other with their warmth.

The simple gesture felt intimate, but it was also comforting—familiar. A small smile tugged at Viktor’s lips as he let his hand settle on top of theirs. The weight of everything, the fear, the cold, seemed to melt away in the warmth of the moment. His eyes fluttered closed again, the steady heartbeat beneath his hand lulling him into a sense of safety he hadn't realised he craved so desperately.

“I should’ve stayed awake,” Viktor murmured softly, his voice barely above a whisper, his thoughts still wandering through the cold, the storm, and the fear of losing them both. “But… you did it. You saved us, Jayce.”

He smiled faintly, a trace of warmth in his heart as he closed his eyes, finally able to rest, knowing they were safe.

[ltash]

Gone

The wind howled over the Scottish Highlands, a sharp, biting thing that cut through the silence. The sky stretched wide and gray, heavy with the weight of an impending storm. It was fitting, Ghost thought. The world should mourn him too.

Soap had always talked about home like it was something sacred. "Scotland’s got a soul, Ghost," he used to say, voice full of pride. "A proper one. Not like these places we get sent to, Scotland stays with you."

Now, Soap would stay here forever.

Ghost stood near the edge of the hill, watching as Gaz and Price each took a handful of the ashes. No words had been spoken for a long time. There wasn’t anything left to say.

The urn was passed to him, and for a moment, Ghost hesitated.

"You take the dark and carve me out a home..."

The war had never given him a place to belong. But somehow, Soap had made something out of the chaos, something steady, something Ghost had never dared to name.

And now, Ghost had to let him go.

He reached inside, fingers brushing against what was left of Johnny MacTavish. The fine powder clung to his gloves as he took a handful, his grip tightening slightly before he forced himself to move.

The wind caught the ashes as he released them, carrying them over the rolling hills, back to the land Soap had loved.

"I picture you when you are all alone..."

Ghost closed his eyes. He could still see him, Soap laughing after a mission gone right, teasing Ghost for being too brooding, nudging him with his shoulder like it meant something.

And it did.

It always had.

"I know how we got here... I know how we got here..."

They had walked the same path, shoulder to shoulder, through fire and blood. Soap had followed him into hell more times than Ghost could count.

This time, though, Soap had gone somewhere Ghost couldn’t follow.

"I am the shadow, you are the passenger..."

The wind grew harsher, howling around them like a living thing. Ghost barely felt it. His hand was still outstretched, fingers curled slightly, as if some part of him had wanted to hold on just a little longer.

"If you want to give, then give me all that you can give..."

"All your darkest impulses, and if..."

"You want to give me anything, then give..."

Soap had taken everything Ghost had been willing to give, had accepted him for what he was, flaws, silence, and all.

And Ghost? He had never said a damn thing about what that meant. Not until now.

His throat tightened.

Price stepped up beside him, clearing his own throat before speaking, voice rough. "He would've hated this part."

Gaz huffed a quiet laugh, the sound almost lost in the wind. "Yeah. Would’ve told us we were being too sentimental."

Ghost said nothing. Just stared at the place where Soap's ashes disappeared into the distance.

"I'll tear the fiber from the filament..."

"I'll be the limit of your light again..."

Ghost had never been one for faith. But standing here, looking out over the vastness of Scotland, he wished he could believe in something, anything, that told him Soap was still here.

Not just in memory. Not just in the past.

But here.

"I will be watching for your enemies..."

"To let them know that they contend with me..."

Ghost exhaled slowly, the cold air burning his lungs. He had made a promise, long before this moment, and he intended to keep it.

There was a man out there who had taken Johnny MacTavish from him.

And he would find him.

Makarov.

Price clapped a hand on Ghost’s shoulder, squeezing briefly before stepping away. Gaz followed, giving one last look at the hills before turning back toward the vehicles.

Ghost stayed behind for a few more moments, letting the wind whip around him, letting himself imagine Soap standing there beside him, arms crossed, shaking his head.

"I want to know you're out there..."

"I want to know you're out there..."

Ghost’s fingers twitched.

For the first time in a long time, he didn’t feel like a ghost at all.

Just a man missing his best friend.

[simpjaes]

*comes out of hiding* hi. i think im confident enough to send an ask🧍🏻‍♀️

playing with HIS nipples.

you can do any member but bfr jake is a MANSLUT and he'd love this.

or jay too...idk.

Jake shivers, jolting slightly away from your touch despite wanting to be closer, forever closer.

Always wanting those hands on him, but here....oh.

Had he known his chest, his nipples were so sensitive? He would have asked for this ages ago. He knew you liked it, knew it made you wince and moan and squirm under him, but now that he's experiencing that? Feeling the pit pool in his stomach and run straight to the head of his cock? He gets it.

He finally gets the hype.

Sensitive, his nipples are so fucking sensitive. The underside of his cock pulses at the slightest touch you lend, dribbling messy pools of precum all over himself, but when you wrap your lips around the nubs?

You note the way he squirms like you do. God, you know he's about to be fucking gone with a couple flicks of your tongue.

It's embarrassing actually, how he can cum from the stimulation there alone, he can only imagine what it would feel like if you were to let him fuck you while your lips are circling his perky little nubs.

He'd beg at this point. He wouldn't care if he came in one, two, three minutes. He'd do it again for you, let you ride his flaccid length until he's hard again. Until he's crying for you, begging you to keep going just to keep him in the game. And he'd do it over and over again, cumming too fast, holding your head down by the neck right against his chest, urging you to continue. "Please, lick it." and "fuck, suck it, harder, bite it." Eventually, he'd even get to the point to where even if you so much as brush past him on a normal day, in a normal situation, his cock grows stiff and pathetic. He'd look at you with those eyes, eyebrows furrowed and flushed cheeks. You'd instantly know what he needs, and always find a way to get him along so you can suck and kiss on his chest, letting him whine all the way through it.

[merakiui]

*violently slams a sheet of paper on merakiui's bureau* here's a concept...~

mera, you're a fan of octavinelle and the fish mafia. especially tako🐙 fan. you know who has a very interesting dynamic with tako? hebi🐍 azul and jamil have a rivalry of sorts:

"a rivalry is beneficial, yes of course. it leads us to demand more from each other to be above the rest. but my desire to be considered your peer surpasses even that of beating you partners or friends, (maybe something else?), or whatever, the important thing is that with this contract I offer you a truce." (tako)

"kys." (hebi)

you're a fan of azul i'm a fan of jamil. can i make myself understood 😈?

i can't get darling out of my head, she just wants her two friends to get along! but hebi doesn't cooperate and blue is very eccentric T-T tako & hebi who are not only darling's friends, but also have a strong crush on her. tako who offers hebi a contract with no small print. hebi who was going to refuse until darling comes out. what's the deal? simple! darling wants them to get along. darling is friends with both of them. they can agree to share darling. but she's going to have to do her part (get fucked by both at the same time <3)

tako who offers you a contract you would never accept. hebi who, even before you can read any clause, shows you that he has signed. you think. if hebi signed, you are safe! jamil is responsible. are he and azul getting along? sort of, darling, sort of....

hebi who is going to use snake viper on you the first time he and tako are going to share you. tako who claims that nk is needed, the deal you signed already binds you to him and hebi. and little darling oh so ashamed (and, maybe, deep down... excited...?)

i need to hear your opinion on this concept !!!! bye byeeeeee

signed: sicko bite💕 anon

OOOOO THE TAKO AND HEBI RIVALRY!!!!! Truthfully....... after learning Azul struggles to cook and that his only worth in the kitchen is probably his decisive tastebuds I do think Jamil could just win darling over easily because his cooking skills are unrivaled. Hebi does not struggle to chop an onion. Now tako on the other hand....... major yikes on bikes. 😬 very cringe.

I do love this rivalry pairing, though!! Jamil's blood pressure is always going up because Azul is annoying!!!!! T_T so slimy and sleazy,, and tako doesn't hide it because he just exudes those smarmy vibes when he's so outwardly greedy and shady. Jamil's much the same, only he knows to keep those sides of himself a secret. It's not as if you'll ever find out when you're hypnotized to blindly trust and follow whatever it is he says.

To be in between an octopus and a snake...... orz both are schemers who plan in advance for situations. Jamil who has the genius foresight to be two steps ahead always, and Azul who is keen to keep his pace. The two of them vying for you in different ways, bound by a contract you foolishly signed. I like to imagine it's a dynamic where everyone has signed the contract, but it's basically just this:

Darling: omg yay!! My two favorite people can get along now. :D happy days forever xoxo~~

Azul: :) (I am so going to betray Jamil.)

Jamil: :) (I am so going to betray Azul.)

T^T playing along only for your sake, but when you aren't looking they are plotting!!! >_< poor darling when it's inevitably revealed you never had much of a say in any of this, but maybe that's good because it's forced Azul and Jamil to compromise and tolerate each other enough to please you. >:)