#can’t imagine being like ‘ugh I can’t stand being around them’

[neatfrog]

almost nothing will be funnier to me than when I posted on fb about hating the “I can’t stand my spouse” culture, and a family member commented sth like ‘I love my husband but wouldn’t want to be around him 24/7’ and promptly several months later they got divorced 💀

[urmomisunderme2]

Guilty as sin

Warning: daddy kink, wet dreams, watching (i don’t remember what it’s called😭) and I don’t remember but smut

When your back for home for summer you never know what could happen, especially with your dads best friend Natasha…

——-

"Nat fuck nat please-oh god please" you moan as Natasha rubs your clit "you like that detka hm?" You buck your hips toward her hand but she moves away"no natty no please-" you whine "patience little girl... you gonna love this even more" you watch her standing at the end of the bed taking of her belt and jeans and pulling down her boxers just enough for her cock to stand proud, she moves back onto be and lines up to your core and just when she's about to split you open... *buzz buzz buzz* your alarm goes off, yet another night you've had a wet dream about your daddy's best friend.

Being home for summer was amazing, it was nice to see your dad again although that feeling can get old fast sometimes, this time faster then anytime before when you had only be home for about 5 minutes when your dad asked if you’d been getting any at uni, what the fuck, that was a crazy thing to ask but that’s what Tony stark was like as a dad and honestly it wouldn’t be as awkward as it was if you didn’t have a crush on his best friend who you’d be having wet dreams about for months.

You get out of bed put on your silk robe that Natasha had given to you for your 19th birthday a few months ago, you walk out your room and down to the kitchen to get a glass of orange juice. As you walk through the hallway and get closer to the kitchen you can hear your father talking with someone. You enter the kitchen to see the woman featuring in all your pantie ruining dreams, Natasha Romanoff looking as gorgeous as ever even in her black t shirt and grey sweatpants making parts of her really stand out, this was not what you needed after the dream you just had.

Natasha smiles as she see you wake in starting to walk over to you from where she was standing leaning against the counter.

“Such a sleepy girl” she says pulling you into a hug, something you hadn’t given her in months since your crush had amplified to this crazy level of neediness “finally a hug from my girl” she said pulling you closer but all you can focus on now is how you can feel her shaft against your front. You had known Natasha your whole life and as soon as you started to have crushes she was your first and longest, you’d had a crush on her now since you where twelve obviously the feelings you felt had changed a bit over time with a sexual need too. 

“Hi” you say as she pulls away “hey dad” you greet your dad and walk over to the fridge to get some orange juice “how was your sleep?” Your dad asked, he could tell something was up, you blush at his question as you fill your glass and turn back around to face them, leaning back against the counter opposite them “Emm…okay I guess” your face was only blushing more “you don’t seem very sure” Natasha looked at you with an unreadable expression “just like dreams and stuff you know” “dreams not nightmares, ohhhh someone having sex dreams” Tony teases, you look over at him with a death glare can’t he just be a normal dad for once “dad really?” You look over at Natasha embarrassed “hey don’t look at me to save you I’m just as interested” Natasha smirks.

“I’m not even- ugh imma shower” you leave the room before you somehow reveal who it’s about. You go back to your room and into the bathroom as you had an ensuite bathroom, you drop the robe and turn the shower on, after a minute you walk into the rainfall shower.

You can’t help yourself as your had slides down to clit rubbing in tight circles as you think of Natasha, imagining her doing this to you, kissing down your neck, telling you what she wants to do to you “Natasha… fuck…” you moan as you cum glad that the house you live in is absolutely giant.

You step out of the shower and wrap yourself in a towel, walking into your bedroom jumping a little when you see Natasha standing in your room with a smirk on her face “Natasha what are you..” you stop before you finish just now realising she may have heard you. “I came to leave you some pastries for after your shower but I just couldn’t help but stay when I heard those lovely noises you where making detka”

You freeze as Natasha walks over to you pulling you in and kissing you harshly, her hands falling to your ass. You both pull away for breath.

“On the bed princess” you walk backwards until you fall onto the bed and spread your legs open, your towel had fallen off at some point as you only notice. Natasha stands at the end of the bed “touch your clit detka” she commands and you do, moaning a little as your body is still sensitive from your previous orgasm. Natasha watches over you with her hand falling into her pants starting to touch herself too.

“If you’re a good girl and tell me want you want you can have more princess” you speed up wanting even more but it’s not her, it’s not enough without her touching you “I want you natty please, rip me open please, do anything to make I don’t care just fuck me!” You scream and before you know if Natasha is on top of you and pushing herself in your cunt “call me daddy detka” you can’t help but hold back your moan, Natasha was so big, you’d never had anything this big in you before “yes daddy”

“Good girl” Natasha says kissing and nibbling at your neck “faster daddy please daddy I need to…” Natasha listens to you speeding up and bringing one of her hands down to rub your clit “cum for daddy princess…daddy’s gonna cum in you…fill you up with my baby’s” a few seconds later you cum with a scream.

Natasha keeps railing into your sensitive core “daddy I-“ you whine but are interrupted by Natasha “fuck detka fuck daddy’s gonna cum” and she does, filling you full with her cum.

She fall down next to you giving you a kiss on the cheek “I’m glad I heard you in the shower, god I wanted you so bad and hopefully now you’ll be filled with my baby’s all plump and pregnant”

——

Tag list: @idkwhatever580

[its-avalon-08]

what about franco x reader: reader wants to breakup with him cause she thinks their relationship might not survive his f1 career and she gets insecure about all the girls he’s going to meet and stuff but he reassures her he actually needs her by his side? 🙏

why me? (fc43)

✦ pairing - franco colapinto x female!reader

✦ genre - angst, tears, break up, insecurity, fluff

Y/N's heart pounded as she stared at the news notification on her phone. Franco had finally done it—he had secured a seat with Williams in Formula 1. The moment she should’ve been ecstatic for him, proud of all his hard work and determination, instead left her feeling hollow. It wasn’t that she wasn’t proud of him; she was, more than words could express. But the overwhelming wave of uncertainty crushed her, drowning out the joy she wanted to feel.

This is it. This is the beginning of the end.

She could already see the cracks forming, fractures in their relationship that hadn’t even happened yet. Franco, with his charm and talent, was bound to be surrounded by so many new people—drivers, celebrities, and worst of all, beautiful women who’d be drawn to him like moths to a flame. He would be traveling constantly, pulled in a thousand directions by his career. Where did that leave her?

It’s better to end things now, she reasoned with herself, as painful as the thought was. She didn’t want to be the clingy girlfriend sitting on the sidelines, wondering if he’d forget about her. What if she wasn’t enough for him anymore? What if, in the chaos of fame, he realized he wanted more than what they had?

Tears burned her eyes as she stared blankly at the screen. I can’t do this. I have to let him go before he lets me go.

time skip

Y/N felt a strange mix of pride and unease as she walked into the paddock with Franco. The energy here was electric, buzzing with excitement and anticipation. Franco, in his Williams gear, looked like he belonged—every inch the rising F1 star. But that only heightened her anxiety.

As soon as they stepped further in, a small crowd began to gather around them, particularly around Franco. Models, influencers, and PR representatives, all with perfectly polished smiles, swarmed him, vying for his attention. Their bright laughter and easy charm grated on Y/N’s nerves, even though she tried her best not to show it. This was part of his life now, and she had to accept it.

But do I really?

One of the models leaned in a little too close, her hand brushing Franco’s arm as she laughed at something he said. Franco, ever polite, smiled and responded, clearly uncomfortable but not wanting to be rude. Y/N stood off to the side, suddenly feeling like an outsider in his world. The women around him were stunning—tall, glamorous, and effortlessly confident. How could she compete with that?

Her phone buzzed in her hand, and she absentmindedly unlocked it, scrolling through Instagram as a distraction. Her heart sank when she stumbled upon the latest post of Franco—one from his PR team, showing him posing by his car, looking effortlessly cool in his racing gear.

The comments were flooded with compliments.

“OMG, Franco is so hot. 😍” “Imagine being his girlfriend… I would die for that smile!” “Ugh, how is he single? I need him in my life.” “He could have any girl he wants tbh.”

Y/N’s stomach twisted, her fingers tightening around her phone as she scrolled through more of the comments. Each one felt like a knife digging deeper into her insecurities. These girls didn’t even know him, but they spoke as if he was already theirs.

She glanced up, catching Franco laughing politely at something one of the models said. The sight stung. He was just being his usual kind, respectful self, but that didn’t make it any easier to watch. Her mind raced with doubts. Would it always be like this? Her, standing on the sidelines, while he was surrounded by people who seemed to fit into his new world far better than she ever could?

Maybe this is how it starts, she thought, her throat tightening. Maybe one day he’ll realize he deserves someone like them—someone more glamorous, more confident, more… everything.

The thought hit her like a tidal wave. She could barely breathe as her fingers hovered over her phone screen. Should she say something? Should she pull him aside and tell him what was going through her mind? But then, would he even understand? Or would he just brush off her feelings as irrational?

She took a step back, trying to create space between herself and the scene unfolding in front of her. Her phone buzzed again, and she instinctively checked it, only to see more comments flooding in under Franco’s post.

“I can’t believe he’s still single… lucky girls at the paddock.” “Franco, when are you going to date someone? 😏”

Her heart dropped. I’m right here, but no one even knows that I exist. Y/N closed the app, shoving her phone into her pocket as she tried to fight off the suffocating wave of insecurity building inside her.

Franco finally broke free from the crowd, excusing himself from the models with a gracious smile before turning back to Y/N. He frowned when he noticed her distant expression, walking over and taking her hand. "Hey, are you okay?" he asked, his voice soft with concern.

She forced a smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. "Yeah, I’m fine."

Franco didn’t seem convinced, his thumb brushing over the back of her hand. "You sure? You’ve been quiet all morning."

Y/N glanced around at the women still lingering nearby, their gazes lingering on Franco even as he stood by her side. The weight of everything—the comments, the models, the reality of his new life—crushed her. I can’t do this.

"Yeah," she said, pulling her hand from his grasp. "I just need a moment alone." Before Franco could protest, she turned and walked away, leaving him standing there, confused, as her heart raced with the decision she had already made.

She couldn’t let this continue. She couldn’t keep pretending everything was fine when it clearly wasn’t.

Y/N had barely spoken since Franco got back from his meetings with Williams. He immediately sensed something was wrong, her usually bright demeanor muted, her smiles forced.

"Y/N, what’s going on? You’ve been distant all day," Franco asked, concern etched in his face as he sat down beside her. His hand reached out, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face.

She pulled away slightly, feeling the weight of her decision crashing over her again. "Franco, I… I’ve been thinking. About us."

His brow furrowed, the confusion clear in his eyes. "What do you mean? What’s there to think about? Everything’s fine, isn’t it?"

Everything’s not fine.

She drew in a shaky breath, trying to steady herself. "You’re going to be a Formula 1 driver, Franco. This is huge—bigger than anything. Your life is going to change completely, and I don’t… I don’t think our relationship is going to survive that."

He blinked, stunned. "What? Why would you even say that? Y/N, we’ve been through so much together, why would you think this would break us?"

"Because you’re going to be away all the time," she burst out, her voice trembling. "You’re going to meet all these new people, and—Franco, you’re going to be surrounded by girls who are way more interesting, more beautiful, more… everything than me. And I can’t compete with that. I’m scared that you’ll realize you don’t need me anymore."

He looked at her like she had just said the most absurd thing in the world. "Y/N, stop. You really think I care about any of that? About some random people I’m going to meet? That’s not what matters to me."

"You say that now," she muttered, crossing her arms as if to shield herself from the pain of her own words. "But what if it changes? You’ll be busy all the time, caught up in your career, and I’ll just be… here. Waiting."

Franco’s jaw clenched as he grabbed her hand, his eyes intense and unwavering. "I need you by my side, Y/N. Not some random person. You." He brought her hand to his chest, his heartbeat strong beneath her palm. "You’ve been with me through everything—the hard times, the wins, the losses. Do you really think I could go through this without you?"

She bit her lip, tears threatening to spill. "But what if—"

"No." Franco’s voice was firm, cutting off her doubts before they could take hold. "No more ‘what ifs.’ I love you, Y/N. I don’t want anyone else. I don’t care about the attention, the fans, or any of that. It’s you who grounds me. You’re what keeps me going, even when things get hard. I need you to believe that."

Y/N’s heart twisted, torn between the fear that had been eating away at her and the raw sincerity in his words. "But what if I hold you back? What if you need to focus on your career?"

"Then we figure it out together," he said softly, his hand cupping her cheek, wiping away a stray tear. "I don’t want to lose you, Y/N. Not because of fear, not because of this career. I want you with me, every step of the way. You’re the only person who knows the real me. And I need that more than ever now."

Her resolve crumbled as she looked into his eyes, the weight of her fears slowly lifting. "I’m just scared, Franco," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "I’m scared of losing you."

"You won’t," he promised, pulling her into his arms. "You’re not going to lose me. I need you with me, Y/N. We’re in this together. Always."

[astayinwonderland]

"After all, you're my wife." | Choi San

pairings: san x f.reader

genre: smut | fluff (if you squint)| +18 minors DNI

this is a mix between a poll and a request by @elfemi

summary: you marry san to make an alliance, and the agreement includes to live separate lives, but both of you seem to want each other (mafia!au)

word count: 3.4k

warnings: dom!san, sub!reader, san calls you his little pet, cursing, degrading, praising, unprotected sex (pls no), cum play, oral sex, fingering, penetrative sex, mentions of violence (not towards reader) and drugs -- lmk if I forgot anything

Enjoy! (;

There are two things you have very clear. Your dad is dead and you fucking hate Choi San. Inheriting the position of mafia leader was your birthright, your dad raised you to be that woman. However, not everyone wants to see a woman in such a powerful position, to their misfortune, you were the late mafia boss’s only child. 

When your father fell ill, you knew it was time to get your position as leader and boss secure. That meant allying with someone rich and powerful. You were surprised that all eligible bachelors were too old, too young, or not powerful enough. 

Theo was standing behind you as your eyes scanned the guests your dad’s most trusted assistant invited for a ‘get-together and mingle with the corrupt elite of the country. He had become like an uncle to you, a genuine part of the family. With his kind eyes, but cold demeanor, he is the perfect person to have your back. 

“What about him?” Theo said. 

“Ugh no…” 

“You can’t keep saying no to everyone. Choose or I will choose for you tonight,” your dad finally spoke. Eyes not looking at you. This is not his favourite idea ever, but it was necessary. 

You couldn’t picture yourself with any of these men, but it was your duty. So you tried your best to be somewhat amicable and get to like at least one of them. With your wine glass in hand, you decided to talk to your pursuers. They would throw themselves at your feet, showering with compliments, showing off their riches, and to be honest being completely obnoxious. This is not what you needed. You needed someone who you could make a deal with and live separate lives while keeping the façade of a marriage. 

Shit, this was going to be hard. 

The door opened and at that moment you knew something was off. The entire room fell silent when the man with broad shoulders and shiny black hair walked in. His face was expressionless, with high cheekbones, and not a trace of sympathy. You would think he would come to greet you, that’s the reason why he is there, but he just bows in your direction and walks over to the bar. 

The conversation around you resumed, whispers commented on the politician’s son. His father was a powerful drug lord who controlled one of the borders. No wonder he has so much influence. Your brain made a quick list of pros and cons, and so it seemed Choi San would be the right choice for you. 

___________________________________

San was aware his father was a criminal but when he was pushed to marry you, he did everything he could think of to change his father’s mind. He begged he asked to be sent away, hell, he even asked for physical punishment. But Mr. Choi was a greedy, greedy man, and he saw in you an opportunity to be even greedier, richer, and more powerful. This was truly the perfect alliance. 

Your dad’s body wasn’t ever cold yet when San got the call and the whole marriage circus began to play. At least the ceremony would be short and he would get to move into his room in your mansion and get it over with. San only met you that one time, but he remembered very well how you looked. In one word, terrifying. You would make the perfect fake wife. 

San watched you walk toward him dressed in black, a dress that covered your legs right above the knees but left little to his imagination from the way the cleavage showed off your round and soft breasts. He just politely nodded at you. At the end of the day, there was nothing to celebrate, your dad was dead and he had to pretend to be your loving husband for the rest of his life or until something or someone killed him. 

With no kiss to seal the deal, San just signed the papers and tried to give you a smile, which was awkward. 

“I am sorry for your loss,” he said. 

You returned the smile, less awkwardly, and patted his shoulder. For a split second, San saw something in you, maybe kindness, but that was all forgotten when you two started living together. 

_____________________________________

“Yeah… fuck, don’t fucking stop, don't fucking—” your voice bounces on the walls, you are so close. 

“Ah.. ah!” the deep voice behind you moans as he cums way too soon. 

San closes his eyes across the hallway. Why do you have to be so fucking loud? To be honest, he wishes he could shut you up once and for all. Moving in with you was necessary, he understands that, part of the arranged marriage and your agreement. However, San never imagined how opinionated and bossy you could be. One thing was your role as the new mafia leader, another thing was you ordering him around the house like some unloved pet. 

Tonight, nonetheless, San wouldn’t take that anymore, so he did something unexpected. He left his bedroom and went looking for you. Was he out of his mind? Probably, you specifically instructed to ‘stay the fuck away’ and since your marriage was fake, you could find carnal pleasure with anyone you wanted. 

San walked out of his bedroom. His pajama pants hanging low, his shirt forgotten somewhere in his room. He still wore his reading glasses and his black hair was wet, and slicked back. Your bedroom door abruptly opens and an unfortunate man flies out of your room. He is in his underwear trying to flee the scene grabbing his clothes as your upset persona watches not too far from the door. San’s curious eyes find your figure, and my oh my, what on earth are you wearing? 

If San didn’t know any better he would be jealous of the thin piece of clothing that gets to touch your soft skin. You have no shame as you stand there in front of your husband. The peach, sheer dress dances loosely on your body, however, it shows off your beautiful body. San can see your nipples hardening under such a provocative piece of clothing as his eyes scan even further south to find the core of your intimacy unclothed. 

“Cat got your tongue?” you ask. 

“N-no, I was just… taking a break from reading. I couldn't focus,” he crosses his arms across his chest and something in you wonders how you never paid any close attention to those broad shoulders and itty bitty tiny waist. 

“Was I being too loud? Apologies.” 

“Not at all, I believe you can be louder… with the right encouragement.” 

The audacity. He can’t speak to you like this… he has never done something so daring. Your heart races and a familiar heat travels from your chest down to your legs. 

“Go to your room, San,” you scold him and close the door. 

San rolls his eyes. He has had enough of you bossing him around as if he was your puppy or servant. So on this night, Choi San decided something. He will make you see him for what he is, an important part of your alliance, a capable, fierce man, and your husband. 

______________________________

The days pass and you haven’t seen much of San. You haven’t seen him at all. Is not a surprise not to see him or know of him for a day or two, however, it’s been 9 days since you had your little after-hours encounter. You sit in front of various members of the cartel and trusted members of the mafia your father once led. Theo, your father’s favourite and now your confidant, continues to sit to the right of the boss, you. 

“We are losing territory, it’s like we don’t have enough people from our side…” one protests. 

“The matter is getting resolved. I suspect there is someone infiltrated in one of our negotiations or maybe lines have been tapped–” 

You are cut mid-sentence when the doors are almost torn from their hinges and your husband enters the room. He is agitated, pulling a beaten man by the collar of his crimson-stained shirt, the same crimson colour that decorates San’s knuckles and hands. The stranger is pushed and kicked to your feet, and you almost feel pity for his bruised face. 

“Sorry to drop in unannounced, love,” San starts, leaving that last word resonating in your head. “This little rat here has something to tell us, don’t you?” San walks over to him and pulls him by the root of his hair making his eyes meet yours. “Look at my wife when you speak, scum, or do I need to break the rest of your fingers one by one?” 

And now you see it, his left hand, disfigured, broken bones making his muscles swell under his skin. 

“Speak,” you command. 

“I– I know who’s been feeding information to Viggiano.” 

As soon as you hear the name you stand from your chair and grab his face. 

“You better start talking before you lose your tongue as well,” you look at the disheveled man, then back at San. His eyes have such an intense glare, you’ve never seen him like this. It makes the hairs on your back rise.

“Pl-please no, I–” as the man stutters he keeps looking past you, which makes you turn to see Theo standing right there. The kindness in his eyes was now replaced by threat and fear. 

“No…” a small gasp leaves your lips. 

“You are never going to be the right person to lead, everyone knows–” Theo starts. 

Slap! You can’t believe the speed at which your body moved to hit your so-called uncle across the face. Two of your guards grab him by the arms, waiting for your command, but San is quicker. He bumps the disheveled man’s head with the table, knocking him unconscious. Like a predator to its prey, he walks towards Theo. You don’t see it coming but one punch from San and Theo is coughing blood. 

“That’s enough, San. You can go now.” 

San is in disbelief, but he lets out a deep chuckle that makes you and your company know he is indeed annoyed by your decision. 

“I want his nose and ears cut off, for being a liar and an eavesdrop, send them to Viggiano,” you walk towards the door. “Sleeping beauty over there loses his tongue. I want them both dead by midnight… oh and let this be an example of what happens if you betray your boss,” you finally exit the room, listening to the ‘yes ma’ams’ behind you. 

The night seems to be the longest one you’ve ever lived. This is not the first tough decision you make, but this is the first time someone close betrays you, and it hurts. It hurts bad, so you cry in the loneliness of your room. You curse. You throw things around and you scream. Everyone has been instructed not to bother you, except for one person. 

“May I come in?” San’s voice is soft outside the door. 

“Leave me alone!” 

San enters your room regardless and nothing stops him from getting to you. He holds your wrists. 

“You need to stop bossing me around, I know you are upset but I am not your puppy or your slave.” 

“You disappeared for 9 days and came home with a big surprise. Great! But you mean nothing to me, Choi San, and I mean nothing to you! Just get out before I call the guards.” 

“Nothing to you? Nothing to me!?” he is even more shocked than before and you see in his eyes that look he gave you when you got married but now it is enhanced. It is sympathy. It is agony. It is lust, pain, and love. Deep down you know he means something to you or you would have him dragged out of your room in this very minute. 

You don’t get to answer when San’s lips are already on yours and you find yourself kissing this handsome man back. This handsome man is legally your husband, but you have never kissed before. His lips are hungry and wanting, making you thirst for him as your tongues collide and his needy hands cup your ass. 

“See how lovely it can be when you don’t boss me around and you shut up.” 

Fuck.

The wetness between your legs just grows and you have no words to answer back. His mouth is on your delicate neck, oh he needs to make a work of art here, your skin looks like it could bruise easily. San sucks on various points, his tongue lapping over the marks he leaves behind. Your moaning goes from soft to breathy and impatient. One of your hands reaches under your nightgown and San slaps it away. 

“No, love, you don’t get to relieve yourself until I fucking say so. Now be a good pet and strip for me, would ya?” 

You take off your clothes as fast as you can, pathetic. A week ago, San was just the most annoying housemate, a convenient inconvenience, but now you’re here naked in front of him. His eyes are dark scanning your body, planning how he is going to ruin you, and you are going to let him do as he pleases. 

“On your knees.” 

And you drop to your knees looking up at his adoring face with a wicked smile. He lowers his pants just enough for you to see his cock already leaking for you.

“Such a good pet, would you help me out?” 

You continuously nod and pull his pants further down. His cock is beautiful, perfect, just like him. Slightly curved, just the right thickness, and a bit longer than average. You spit on it and start with your hand, jerking him off, up and down, up and down. Without interrupting the pace you lick his balls and earn the most sensual moan from San’s lips. So you put your mouth to work. You put him between your wet needy lips and push him in, sucking, tasting all of him. San’s breath is heavier when you start bopping your head up and down. He suddenly grabs your hair and takes control, fucking your face and watching you take it. To his eyes, you were already so beautiful, but this is something else.

“See how beautiful you look with your mouth shut, so obedient, now be a good wife and take this cock.” 

You moan at his words, how can they make you so horny when you had no plan of sleeping with him. The vibrations in your throat send San spinning and he is too close to cuming, but not yet. He pulls out of your mouth and helps you up, and with a slap to your ass, he takes you to bed. He signals you to straddle him. You normally don’t like eye contact with your sexual partners but there is something about San that makes it different. 

“Fuck yourself on my cock and I only want to hear how good it feels, okay?” 

You sit on his cock slowly, letting yourself adjust to his length and girth. When you start to bounce on top of him, San has to use all of his willpower not to drill into you like some kind of wild animal, he can do that any other time if you let him. The way you are making him feel is ecstatic. Your tits moving up and down so close to his face he has to suck on them. The feeling of his tongue on your nipples makes you want to cry for pleasure. You let out a high-pitched moan.

“Words, little pet, I wanna hear them– fuck,” San throws his head back as your pace becomes quicker. He slaps your ass, once, twice. 

“I love it, I fucking love it, San… fuck. I like it right there, so fucking perfect. I want you to fucking split me in half,” you just let words out, words derived from the ecstasy of having his cock buried deep inside you. 

And that was the queue for San to let go and fuck you like he wanted. Like you wanted. He now fucks you faster than the pace you set earlier. His hands bruising your hips, the skin-to-skin contact adding even more passion, and his eyes… His eyes on yours making you feel his, making you feel safe, making you feel you can let go and– 

“Fucking shit, I’m gonna cum… fuckfuckfuck!” 

And San holds you while your body trembles and your high makes your brain explode into a thousand little particles of pure lust and sin. Fuck the way your heart races, you can hear it in your ears. He puts you on the bed and your reaction time doesn’t catch up with your brain when your legs are wrapped around his waist and he is entering you. 

“San…” you whisper. 

He stops. He is unsure if this is too much and he is willing to stop. 

“San, San, San…” you keep saying his name like a plead, a prayer to the heavens as your hips move forward. You want more. 

“Bet. No one. Ever. Fucked you. Like. This.” San says between thrusts so deep you can feel him in your cervix. “Look at you all fucked out, my obedient pet, taking my cock so well, wanting to cum again. Is that what you want?” 

You nod desperately, anything for another intense orgasm with him. You only want this with him. His hands touching you, his moans on your ears, his voice commanding you to cum again and again. 

This time San fucks you slower, you can feel every inch of him inside you as you clench around his erection encouraging him to keep going. He grabs your thighs to pull you even closer to him, angling your hips higher making you not say his name, but scream it. 

“Yes, fuck, keep saying my name just like that.” 

So you did as he entered you, ruining you for any other man who dared match him. You were his, the man who saved your life and fucks you into oblivion. Now you were close, so close to your climax and you needed to cum like oxygen itself. 

“You don’t get to cum without me, hold it like the good pet that you are,” he says struggling to make a coherent sentence, he was very close too. 

You try hard not to cum before he does, but looking at him sweaty, chasing his high, fucking you as no one has done before does something to you. Your hands squeeze your tits together while your eyes close, trying to last longer. San could have combusted with that sight alone. 

“Cum– cum now… fuck!” 

The tightness in your belly is now free as you both cum. It is so fucking loud that your head hurts. His seed spills deep inside you and if you felt full before, now it’s even better, your legs feel like gelatin. San gently places them down. You are thinking he will probably leave you to go back to his room but he does the unexpected. 

His thumb is over your extremely sensitive clit and two of his slender fingers push his cum back inside you. You scream closing your legs. He smiles. 

“You need to take it all, love,” that’s it… the dom session is over and he uses that word that makes your heart flutter. 

“I can’t.” 

San licks your clit, tasting the mix of both of your releases. His fingers thrust in slowly, slightly angling up until you squirm under his touch. 

“Ah, right there? You like it there, love?”

“Mmmm-ugh yesfuck…ah–” you babble. 

San continues his tortuous pace until he latches once again his mouth to your clit. You see stars, you don’t know how your body is taking this, it is so fucking good, he is so fucking good. The way he keeps you on edge and makes you want more and more. Fuck, you can’t even think and you feel your body about to orgasm but something is different. 

“San, San… stop. I’m gonna–” and you squirt, drenching him in your juices. 

“That’s a good girl.” He licks your entrance once last time before collapsing beside you, his arms open inviting you to rest on his broad and hard chest. 

“You are not allowed to sleep in the other room anymore. From now on you sleep here, okay?” 

“You’re ordering me around, but I will follow your command. After all, you are my wife,” he hugs you tightly. 

__________________________________

a/n: this is pure ✨fiction✨ —this took me forever but I am in love with this san! reblogs and feedback is greatly appreciated and let me know if you would like to be part of the taglist.

[bratbby333]

oh em GEEEE IMAGINE GAMER BF SUKUNA WANTING TO PLAY MINECRAFT W YOU BUT HES STUBBORN SO HE DOESNT ADMIT IT BUT YOU CATCH HIM PLAYING BY HIMSELF ON HIS OWN PC AND YOU TEASE HIM SAYING HE COULDVE JUST ASKED 💔💔💔💔💔

gamer!bf sukuna fluff—sfw !! cw: language. smau + blurb

with a quick kiss on your forehead, sukuna informs you he’s running competitive games on COD for a cash prize and emphasizes that he needs you to leave him alone so he can focus. god, he can be such a diva.

you’ve been curled up on the couch for an hour or so, aimlessly scrolling through your phone. sukuna is holed up in the office, most likely talking shit and being a menace online.

a brief yell echoes through your apartment, followed by a quick slam of his fists against his desk.

“im done with this shit,” he exclaims, most likely quitting the game he was in. it seems he didn’t win his competition.

you giggle to yourself, shaking your head. you find it amusing how angry he gets during his games. but, you do feel a bit bad that he lost, so you decide to invite him to a voice call on discord.

as you navigate to your private chat with him, you watch as his status changes from “playing COD” to…wait. that can’t be right…minecraft? no way. that’s impossible.

you give it 30 minutes to see if it was just an accidental click. when you check back, his status remains the same.

you smirk as you open up your messages, eager to see if he’ll confess.

you giggle to yourself as you stand from the couch, taking quick steps down the hall.

as you push open the office door, a cheeky grin can’t help but pull at your cheeks as you approach him.

you join him at the desk, taking a seat in front of your monitor. “you’re so stubborn, ya know that?”

“i told you not to speak of this ever again,” he muttered, aimlessly walking around minecraft as he waits for your computer to boot up.

“lemme just hear you say it,” you tease.

“say what?” he asks, turning to face you, a look of annoyance on his face at your adamance to continue this conversation.

“you like minecraft,” you replied simply, raising your eyebrows. “just admit it and i’ll never say another word.”

he stared at your for a minute, his jaw clenching and unclenching. with a heavy sigh, he turns back to his monitor, grumbling an almost inaudible, “i like minecraft,” with a roll of his eyes.

but it’s a lie. a dirty little secret. he doesn’t just like it, he loves it. he especially loves how happy you get when the two of you play together, as much as he tries to deny it.

the two of you spend the next three hours running around minecraft. sukuna is clearly enjoying himself, though you can tell he’s attempting to hide it with an abrupt clear of his throat or a quick cough to cover up his laughter.

a warm feeling spins around your stomach, giggling as you watch him fight back a persistent smile the entire time.

an: thank you for your request my sweet anon. this was adorable.

i really want to start doing smau’s ugh they’re just so cute and fun to make. i have a full-length fic coming up that incorporates them into the story!! this is my way of experimenting w that format…please let me know what you think! in a way, i feel like it makes the story more real.

thank you for all your support 🥺🫶🏼 i wanna give every single one of yall a big ole smooch on the forehead

my asks are always open. don’t be shy, drop a suggestion, send feedback, leave a request, or just come say hello! i love talking to yall 💛

likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated !!

bratbby333 on tumblr. all rights reserved. please do not distribute. 2024.

[leth-writes]

Some thoughts about Tim and the Batfam

SUMMARY: just thinking about Tim and the batfam

WARNINGS: 18+ as always on my blog, though the work is safe for work. Typical yandere shenanigans. HEAVY discussion of drugging and taking away of autonomy.

MASTERLIST: https://www.tumblr.com/leth-writes/757800060720496640/requests-open?source=share 

Requests are open!

Tim is a really interesting person, in general. I’m just obsessed with the idea of him drugging a darling, just keeping them all pliant and sleepy and curled up in his bed, even if he’s platonic. 

He spends a lot of time just…watching you, whether that be through cameras or in real life.

You never find the cameras, even though you know they’re there. If you asked him, he wouldn’t deny it. Why would he? There’s nothing you could do about it, and he honestly doesn’t trust your opinions on your own safety. Tim views you as quite innocent and naive, and that’s part of why he spends so much time building a little cocoon in the bed for you to curl up in, your soft snuffles just barely moving the light sheet he’s laid around you.

Just. UGH. I think at first he’d drug your food.

But you start noticing, and you start avoiding food. This sets the rest of the batfam off; is TIm not taking care of you properly?!

(They sometimes talk about you like a pet. It’s weird. You’ve learned not to mention it.)

In response, you’re tied down with soft satin straps and drugged out of your mind through an IV. You’re on an all-liquid diet, practically seeing stars. Tim doesn’t need you conscious or coherent, just safe from harm, after all.

I could even see him putting you in a temporary coma, at least until the heat from your kidnapping dies down. 

I can’t get�� over the idea of you just. Trusting him so much, so naively, and he’s just. Fucking drugging your hot chocolate to get you to the manor, he knows if he doesn’t then Jason will and Jason won’t be as gentle about it.

UGH just imagine him doing those exercises every day with you to keep your muscles from atrophying AGHHHH

You wake up afterwards, it’s dark and your mouth is dry. You try to sit up- and you can’t. You’re too weak, too tired from the still-present drugs coursing through your veins. It’s then you see a bright flash, illuminating the corner and it’s FUCKING TIM JUST STANDING THERE

He uses his best camera, just dedicates it to pictures of you, creates an album.

He shows it to everyone else, they’re all cooing and aweing and you’re just sitting there like HELLO PLEASE LET ME LEAVE 🙁

Eventually he might even give you a bit of a choice. You can eat the food, or you can get an injection. When you take the injection you lose an entire day of time, and who knows what the FUCK happened? (nothing, Tim just. Spent most of the day working, occasionally taking the time to brush a hand over your face, just gently tracing your features.)

The others start to get annoyed Tim’s hogging you, and he gets you a wheelchair. You’re too weak, too drugged to be able to move yourself around, and he somehow manages to put some sort of thing on the wheels that lock if you try to go out the door. Like the fucking Grocery Carts.

He starts wheeling you around, letting you see the garden and the birds and Batcow. You spend a lot of time in the library with Alfred the cat curled in your lap, purring as you try to follow the plot of a simple book, your eyes too blurry to see the words properly.

Jason’ll read to you, he likes the bonding time. Plus, your eyes can’t really focus on anyone’s face too long, so he doesn’t have to worry about you being scared by the scars ripped into his skin by his death.

Cass’ll roll you into her studio, prop you against the wall, and just do a stunning routine. Unfortunately you can’t see it very well, and you clap really slowly because your hands feel like they’re filled with lead. She appreciates the effort.

Dick eventually takes over your stretches, though he does sometimes have to fight Bruce for the right. Both love helping you gently stretch out your limbs, admiring the shaking that only comes from intense effort. You’re cute, like a newborn lamb.

It’s infuriating watching Dick do all these complicated moves, while you can barely lift your head, but oh well, they’re so happy you’re here!!

Damian treats you like a younger sibling, even though you’re significantly older than him. He adores having this position of power over you, and abuses it to spend most of his time with you just. Showing you his animals. Titus is practically your emotional support dog at this point, and he trains Ace to be your guard dog.

Bruce loves having you curled up in the office, snoring slightly on the couch, as he slowly wades his way through work. He’ll throw a blanket over you, even as you whimper and shy away from the food he’s hand-feeding you. You aren’t allowed to feed yourself anymore, hell you can barely lift your hand to your mouth.

You eventually get used to spending all your time just. Hanging around, sleeping and letting everyone else do everything for you.

[bellewintersroe]

hiiii!! :) if you don't mind can you write something for nando? I am kinda going thru a fernando phase rn 🤭 ik ik. There is a lack of fics for him...I literally prob read all the fanfics in the app. If you don't want to it's totally fine!

Thanks a lot! :)))

honestly I’m 24/7 in my Fernando phase that man is beautiful so I’m happy for you hehehe, I agree there’s such a lack of fics!!! Thank you for your request I appreciate it, I hope some headcannons are okay for you!! <3 <3 some NSFW headcanons at the end, so feel free to skip that! Sorry this isn’t longer or more detailed, but I wrote it on a whim seeing your request!! <3

Fernando Alonso Headcanons x Reader

First of all this man is a goofball, he loves to have fun and joke around. I feel like a lot of the time he’d be such a lighthearted boyfriend, always smiling, anyways joking with you. He’d be soooo fun.

Obviously can be serious when the time comes- but he would 1000% crack up in situations he’s not supposed to. This in return would cause you, his partner to start giggling.

he’d deffo hide his face in your neck, muffling his giggles with hands gripping your hips for dear life.

probs gets you both in a spot of trouble, but he’d be sooo good at making up for it.

I think because he’s older he’d potentially be a better communicator? I mean who knows, maybe I’m delusional but I feel like Nando would be a really unproblematic boyfriend because he’s just sooo easy going and comfortable around you that there wouldn’t be much potential conflict.

Maybe you’d have normal couple bickers but I think Nando would start smirking in the middle of it and the subject immediately gets dropped or you laugh it off.

not too big on showing PDA, especially if you’re a private person, he knows being with him comes with lot of media attention.

gets confused when people start making edits of you? But low key watches them and enjoys seeing your beautiful face plastered all over his phone.

probs changes his screen saver to a pic of you both and it would remain that exact same picture for the next 100 decades.

pulls your hair (gently) to wind you up, pinched your bum (in private), pokes you, bites you- I feel like he’d like to tease you as a form of fun.

holds your hand in public and guides you through crowds, especially if you’re nervous onfggggg no imagine his arms like barricading in front of you so nobody can get near you.

not afraid to get a lil physical if somebody does cross that boundary. Nothing too intense, but he’d hold a hand out, pushing maybe a little too firmly, to get them away from you.

Protects you physically and emotionally? I can’t think of the right word, but he protects your modesty always.

let’s say it’s a little blustery on the beach and you’re wearing a shorter dress- the paps would be obsessive and Fetnando would stand in front of you so they couldn’t get a single glimpse of you.

no omg he’d hold your skirt down with his thumb and forefinger to prevent anything being flashed. You wouldn’t even realise what was going on, but Nando being used to the vulture activity, knows exactly what they’d be attempting to get pics of. Gross!!

sooo polite when meeting your family and friends aahhhhhh- and after you’ve met his family I can imagine him being all giddy and grabbing your face, pulling you in for a kiss.

LOVES seeing you on the race weekends, the atmosphere is sooooo much more fun and rewarding when you’re at the GP’s

nsfw headcanons:

This man gives you the most intense eye contact and sex eyes ever.

would mutter your name to himself when he’s teasing you or something, ugh it’s so sexy with his accent.

like it’s your first few times meeting and the sexual attraction between you both is unreal, you’d melt under his gaze omfg.

holds your hand through it, loves it when you grip his arms omfg.

oh omfg 10928473% talks you through it. So so sexy, especially when he switched it up to Spanish one time. He nervously laughed a little, but when he realised you loved it omfg, he’d ramp up the dirty talk.

you’re deffo his good girl and his baby ugh he’s so vocal, especially when he’s close to finishing.

always asks if you’re okay, if you’re comfortable, consent is a huge turn on idgaf- he makes everything sexy and you’d just feel so safe and respected with him.

Fernando would deffo love doggy like omfg, imagine him going at it I can’t it’s sinful-

When you guys do missionary he’d put his whole bodyyyyy into it like omg.

Probs goes feral when you suck him off for the first time.

eats pussy like a king- and when you pull his hair omg he’s moaning against you.

Youd probs find him in his fireproofs so sexy and when he gets a little touchy the two of you practically RACE back to the hotel or wherever you’re staying.

expect several memes being made of this in the morning, when Nando’s pictured squeezing your bum and staring at your boobies omg- everybody goes feral.

Such a romantic and passionate lover, not into anything too cringe, but would try pretty much anything you want.

probs gets giggly after sex.

[kurocamille]

❝maybe frat boys aren’t so bad (aka cars are meant for driving!)❞

Frat!Bakugou Katsuki x reader (except he’s not stereotypical and mean) mdni

part 2

4.1k+ words

you attend your first frat party and run into a familiar flirty face. he offers to drive you home from the party, the empty parking lot outside your dorm building definitely seems like the perfect place to get down and dirty…

warnings

part 1 of 2 (2 will have full smut..) 1 oc who’ll come into play later…., car sex, fingering, handjobs, heavy makeout, hickeys/neck kisses, dry humping/grinding kinda, female/afab reader, no pronouns used, inexperienced reader, “baby” as a pet name

It was your first time going to a college party, miraculously enough. This year, you had met a group of girls who had quickly invited you into their friend group. Somehow, despite you refusing over ten times, they had managed to drag you to a frat party.

After getting yourself a cup of mysterious red punch, you stand in the crowd of people. Bodies brush against you—intentionally or unintentionally, you don’t know. You’ve seen a few of your friends since arriving, but it seems like most of them are off doing God knows what with some drunken frat boy.

You can feel the beat of the music in your chest, as if it’s pumping your heart for you. The strobe lights flash around you. Sipping away at your drink, you go wandering in search of someone you know.

When you exit the common room, you float down a hallway with fewer people. Despite fewer people being there, the hallway is stuffy, and you can barely walk through without knocking shoulders with someone.

You aren’t watching where you’re going, and suddenly you trip on the bunched up carpet beneath your feet. The half-full soda cup goes flying, and so do you. It spills on the front of your shirt and down the back of a nearby couple who, until now, had been in the middle of making out,

“Ugh!” the girl shrieks, and you look up to see her glaring at you. She comes out from under the guy caging her, and you realize it’s the girl Mika from one of your classes. As always, her hair is perfectly coiffed, and she’s wearing a dress that barely covers her ass.

The girl shakes her hands of the sticky liquid that spilled on her, but seeing as she had previously been caged under that other guy, she had barely gotten wet. Meanwhile, the guy stands in a sopping wet shirt. You also recognize him; Bakugou Katsuki. He’s in another one of your classes, one of which you had been paired up for a partner project. Unlike Mika, he doesn’t look like he’s trying too hard. A white short-sleeved band t-shirt complements his black jeans, something you wouldn’t have expected a frat boy like him to wear.

Despite being in the same fraternity/sorority group, Mika and Bakugou could not be more different, and you can’t help but wonder how they ended up together. While Mika is extremely stereotypical and, if you might say, annoying, rude, and a bitch, Bakugou is really nice. That one project had taught you that not every frat boy is a shameless womanizer and prick. Although he’s a definite flirt, he’s always been respectful and acknowledged you as an equal—opposite of what Mika had done to your friends, and now you.

“I’m so sorry,” you say hastily.

“Don’t min-” Bakugou starts, but he’s cut off by Mika.

“You better be sorry!” she all but screeches at you. “This is a brand new set of nails. They’re completely ruined. You better repay me for this. It cost 10,000 yen, you know that? Can you even fucking afford that”

“Look, I’m sorry I did that, but I don’t know if I can repay tha-” you start. The look she gives you is incredulous as she snarls before interrupting you.

“I actually can’t believe you. You must be a dumb slut dying for Bakugou’s attention. Imagine sabotaging me just because he chose to be with me! And you’re so poor you can’t even afford to fix your mess… Ridiculous,” she huffs, pressing a pointy finger into your chest and probably expecting you to bow down and beg for forgiveness.

You try to apologize, but Bakugou steps in before you can say anything.

“Mika, who cares,” he sighs. He looks at you with a silent ‘I can’t deal with this face.’

The silence that follows feels like an eternity, but it really only elapses the half second before her hand makes contact with Bakugou’s face.

The sound from the slap resounds in the small hallway. You stare wide-eyed at the growing red spot with matching nail marks on Bakugou’s face.

“You should fucking care. We’ve been together for, like, a month already, and you still won’t stand up for me?! I’m done, don’t call me,” she seethes before pointing at you. “And you, you better hope we never see each other again.”

After that, Mika storms off in a fit of rage and disappears into the crowd.

“Dating on and off for a month, and she pulls that. Psychotic bitch,” he mutters before turning to you. “Hey, Sorry, I didn’t know you were coming, you should’ve told me.”

“I’m so sorry, for all of that. I’ll just get going and pretend I never saw that.” You turn on your heel to dash out, but a hand grips your shoulder and turns you around.

“No need to apologize, she gets crazy when she’s drunk, and I was planning on breaking up with her,” he shrugs. “Anyway, I’m just gonna head upstairs and shower this stuff off. You can come up too, if you want, Y/N.”

You raise a brow at his suggestion. “You want me to come shower with you?”

A look of confusion and surprise crosses his sharp features before a smirk breaks out. “There are multiple bathrooms up there, but you know, if they’re all taken, you can always join me.” He sends you the stupidest wink that still sends your stomach into frenzy.

“You bounce back too quickly,” you groan. “Whatever, I’m coming up, but not with you.”

Bakugou reverts to his uncaring self and has you follow him. You follow Bakugou, slowly making your way up the rickety house stairs. When you make it around the corner, Bakugou points you in the direction of an ensuite washroom, and disappears into the room across from you. “Just take a folded towel, and I’ll deal with it. If you need anything, just come and get me.”

In the quiet of the bedroom, you lock the door and undress. You make your way into the connected bathroom and strip down in the low light. The shower has terrible pressure and doesn’t heat up, but it does the job of cleansing the sticky punch off your skin.

You finish your shower within five minutes and step out to grab a towel. It’s surprisingly clean, but the pile of your clothes on the counter are still dripping with liquid. That means you’ll either have to walk around in a towel for the rest of the night or muster up the courage to ask Bakugou for some clothes.

You opt for the second option, seeing as you won’t have to walk through a drunken frat house in a towel that barely covers your “good bits.” So, you head back to the door where Bakugou was, rolling your clothes into a ball and tucking them under your arm. When you get there, the door is still closed, as you expected, but there is no sound of running water coming from the room.

“Bakugou, sorry, I need some extra clothes,” you say after knocking on the door.

As if it isn’t embarrassing enough, Bakugou takes his sweet time getting to the door. When it finally opens, he stares at you, his eyes unashamedly trailing up and down your body. He, similarly to you, looks to have just gotten out of the shower. Water droplets fall from his hair and fall down his hardened chest, which he doesn’t bother to clothe. The only thing keeping his from being stark naked in front of you is the towel sitting low on his hips, low enough that you can see his v-line drifting below.

“Clothes?” he asks after an awkward pause, and you flush.

“Yeah, anything will do, I just need it to get home in them,” you reply.

“Alright, come in.” He beckons you with his hand to follow him.

The first thing you notice when you enter is that his room is far different from the other one. While the first bedroom, whose you can only assume is his frat brother’s, is standard for a male college student—clothes strewn everywhere, an only half-made bed, and suspicious posters. Bakugou’s room is the opposite, the bed made, shelves tidy, and everything in order.

Bakugou coughs and breaks you out of the spell you’re under. He’s holding out a crumpled plastic bag, with some grocery store logo on it. “Here, for your wet clothes.”

You quickly snatch the bag and stuff your clothes into it. As you struggle to fit them inside, the towel hugging your body slips from its hold and drops below your nipples. From your peripheral vision, Bakugou freezes ever so slightly, and you hear an awfully loud swallow.

As soon as you notice him, however, he averts his eyes and pretends he had been looking for clothes the whole time. The outfit he chooses for you isn’t half bad, a hoodie and drawstring sweatpants, but they look so big they could drown you.

You take the two garments from him, accidentally brushing fingers in the process. He pulls away from you and heads back towards his ensuite bathroom. “Don’t worry, I’ll be in here. I won’t peek. You can get changed in the bedroom.”

With that, he closes the door and cements a divide between the two of you. Quickly, you change into the clothes he gave you, having to roll up the cuffs on them multiple times. You look like a blob of fabric, but it’ll have to do. Hopefully Bakugou won’t notice that you’re not wearing your bra and panties.

Knocking on the bathroom door, you meet face to face with Bakugou one last time. He’s fully clothed now and gives you a smile.

“Looks like it fits,” he says sarcastically.

“For sure,” you joke, flattening out the garments awkwardly. “I’m planning on heading out now, by the way. I think I’ll just catch an Uber, I’m pretty sober now, and my friends will probably be here for a while longer.”

“Don’t take an Uber,” he replies suddenly.

Rubbing the back of his neck, he corrects himself. “I mean, it’s not safe to take one right now. Let me drive you, I didn't drink tonight.”

“No way!” you retort. “I couldn’t bother you with that. I’ll be fine, anyway.”

However, Bakugou, being his stubborn self, does not relent until you agree to let him drive you all the way back to your dorms, only a stupid 30 minutes away.

Normally, you wouldn’t risk going with someone in his frat, but you have enough trust in Bakugou to keep civil. So, after a moment of contemplation, you accept his offer and follow him to the adjacent parking lot. Multiple people stare as you walk past them, but you pay them no mind, seeing as you’re practically unrecognizable in your new outfit.

“Yo, Bakubro, good for you!” a redhead yells from the doorway as you leave, whooping in a supportive, you suppose, manner.

“Ah, shut up, don’t spread any rumours, Shittyhair.” Bakugou groans, but you don’t miss the way his ears turn pink.

You’ll have to forget about that, though, because the lights of a black Jeep Wrangler flash on, and Bakugou escorts you to the passenger seat.

“I didn’t know you were this much of a gentleman, Bakugou,” you giggle in an embarrassingly girly way.

“I’m always a gentleman.” He winks and walks around to his side of the vehicle, leaving you feeling hot in the face.

He swings into the passenger seat, and puts the car in motion. You can’t help but notice the way his arms grip the steering wheel, the veins from his strong hands trailing up his forearms in a way that makes you unconsciously bite your lip.

“Put the address into the GPS,” Bakugou interrupts, and you notice his eyes force themselves away from your lips.

You deny whatever you just saw and punch your address into the screen. The machine takes only a second to bring up the route home, which, at this late hour, will actually only take 15 minutes.

After pulling out of the lot, Bakugou heads down the street following the indicated yellow line. He drives smoothly and professionally, as you expected he would. He maneuvers the car with expertise, and you can’t help but think he’s showing off when he steers with an open palm and an arm on the back of your seat.

For most of the ride, you guys are silent. Other than the faint whirring of the air conditioner, the only sounds to be heard are made by you and Bakugou. His by his slow, peaceful breathing, and yours by the beating of your heart—something which betrays you by getting louder and faster with every minute.

Luckily for you, the drive is soon over and Bakugou’s car is parked right outside of your dorm building. For the most part, the lot is empty, and the lights from the windows are off. It makes sense, most people in your extremely small building are out partying at 9 o’clock on a Friday, and the homebodies you’d normally associate with are already in bed.

Your specific block seems to be completely dark, seeing as you left your friends behind at that party… Whoops. It’s no matter, however, you’ll just be the first one in your complex to get back.

You unclick the belt from your waist, moving up on the seat to grab your things off the floor.

“This is you, right?” Bakugou questions.

“Yep! Thank you so much for driving me. I’ll text you later so you can have your clothes back.” You smile at him and go to open the door, but he lightly pulls you back.

“Wait. Y/N, you can keep them, actually. ” He chuckles, but it has an awkward tone to it. “You look better in them than I do”

Wait, what?

You always thought Bakugou was just flirty by nature, which to some extent he is, but you could see it now. Whatever you two had going on was certainly out of the ordinary. From what you could tell, Bakugou wasn’t half as teasing towards Mika as he was to you.

Ever since that one project, he had always made it a priority to sit next to you in class. You had assumed he was there for your notes, not that you minded, but could it actually have been for another reason altogether?

“Well, I would bet you look pretty good in these too, not that you don’t always look good,” you giggle, testing out the waters.

Bakugou’s eyes widen in surprise and soften under the pale light of his car. You stare at him fondly, accidentally letting your eyes flicker to his lips.

“Y/N, I-“ he starts but can’t seem to find the right words.

“I know you just broke up—literally tonight, but, Bakugou, gosh, I really want to kiss you right now,” you speak for him.

Maybe that punch was more potent than you thought. Good thing Bakugou drove you all the way here…

Instead of replying, Bakugou places a tender hand on your cheek and pulls you in. Soft lips meet your own, and you smile. You move to his lap where the seat has suddenly been rolled back.

Ah, it’s his frat boy car seat trick.

Your kisses continue slowly, and you can tell Bakugou wants to deepen the kiss when his tongue brushes against your lips. Upon first contact, you freeze in place. Before this you’d only ever been with one guy, one that you hadn’t even gone far with. In the moment now, you can only hope and pray that he won’t notice your inexperience.

However, you completely forget whatever worry you had when Bakugou starts to go into your mouth. His large hands pull you flush against his body, grabbing at the flesh right above your ass.

When you finally pull back, Bakugou’s eyes are blown wide, and he looks lost to lust. The lips that had previously been on yours now have a cute pout, having puffed up from your kisses.

Bakugou’s lips move down and pepper chaste kisses along your jawline. Even with his light and seemingly innocent pecks, you’re still softly moaning under his hold.

Bakugou switches focus to your neck, licking and sucking a hickey into your skin. After nipping at you for a while, Bakugou lifts off of you, and you can tell with his smirk that he left a massive bruise blooming on your skin.

“Bakugou, let me touch you,” you whisper as he moves to kiss the other side of your neck.

“Call me Katsuki… Please. “ He groans when you slightly grind against his groin.

You shift down on your hips and look down to see a thick boner growing in his pants. Curiously, you press it softly with your fingers and give it a light squeeze.

Katsuki looks down at you, his face quickly turning red. Silently, you reach into his pants, looking at his gorgeous ruby eyes for any sign of contestment. Katsuki stays quiet but gives you a small nod in approval.

Finally, you get to the moment you’ve been waiting for. You press your fingers under the waistband of his boxers, sliding your hand across the top of his cock. Then, with one movement, you free him from his confines, and his dick stands proudly in front of you.

Any expectations or preconceived notions about what Katsuki was packing were shattered. Painfully hard and dripping tiny amounts of precum, his cock is a beauty. The dark pink tip invites you in, begging you to give it one moment of reprieve.

When you nervously stroke the shaft, Katsuki’s reaction is instantaneous, his hips lurching up against yours.

“Fuck, keep going,” he hisses, his breath already laboured.

With more confidence you wrap your fingers around him and give his cock a few quick pumps. Your sudden change in tempo makes Bakugou’s cock twitch in your hold and release a bead of white precum. You remove your hand, and Katsuki’s eyes meet yours with a pleading look.

Carefully, you push your thumb against the slit of his dick and lubricate him with his own pre-cum. As you swirl the substance around the head, Katsuki buries his face in your shoulder.

“Oh my God, I’m about to cum,” he gasps. “Fuck, it’s like I’m a virgin again.”

Bakugou’s chest heaves as you work him to his high. With every light touch or squeeze of his dick you make, it twitches and throbs in reply. You decide to help him finish, doing the same fast strokes that make him groan lewdly in your ear.

Then, all of a sudden, Bakugou reaches out and stops your hand in the middle of its movements. You eye him, confused. “You into edging or something?”

“Not quite, I wanna get you off, too.” He surprisingly lets out a hearty laugh.

“Sit up, baby,.” You follow his instructions and he picks you up with ease.

Katsuki flips you over so you’re no longer sitting on top of him, rather lying caged underneath him. His body is so close to yours that you can’t look down to see what’s happening when you feel his hands moving against your clothed pussy.

“May I?” he asks, tugging at the edge of your panties.

“Still such a gentleman,” you giggle embarrassingly.

“Breaking the frat boy stereotypes as we go, I suppose.” He laughs with you, before turning his attention back to your body.

His adept fingers pull your soaked panties to the side, revealing your equally glistening cunt. Katsuki nimbly dips his fingers in your wetness with a soft hum.

“So wet, baby,” he grins, and you blush in embarrassment.

Bakugou skillfully captures your attention by pressing the pad of his thumb against your aching sex, as if to test the waters. When he hears your soft moan in response, he takes it as an invitation to keep going.

Slowly, Katsuki’s thumb plays with your throbbing clit, brushing it in teasing circles. A whine escapes your mouth, and he chuckles upon hearing it, knowing how needy you feel. “You want my fingers inside of you?”

You gasp out a ‘yes,’ and his fingers are immediately prodding at your entrance. Then, you feel the stretch your hole makes to accommodate his intruding finger. Although you’re not used to such a feeling, you easily adapt to the length of his digit, which pleasantly curls into your depths.

Bakugou starts fingering in and out of you, and the pleasure increases. Previously soft moans and whines turn into cries against his shoulder. Despite your embarrassment of being oversensitive, the flush on Bakugou’s face proves he’s just as affected, without you even touching him.

As Katsuki continues to slip inside your wetness, you feel the pressure building in your stomach, much differently than it ever has before. One more finger squeezes into your tight cunt and presses against your pleasure spot. You cry out, and his hands continue to brush against that sensitive place.

“Fuck, that feels good, please don’t stop,” you babble mindlessly, barely even registering Bakugou’s reply of, “Course not. Wouldn’t dream of it.’

To your blissed out surprise, the pleasure gets stronger. The sensation on your clit returns, and your body uncontrollably arches into Bakugou’s above you. With every calculated movement against your bundle of nerves, you’re worked closer to orgasm.

Then, all of a sudden, the angle of the thrusting fingers changes. Bakugou changes his position to be closer to you, somehow managing to reach further than before. With every new touch to your g-spot and clit, you feel yourself being pushed to your high.

In turn, you grasp a hold of Katsuki’s twitching cock. His hiss in reply shows you just how sensitive he is from before. Your hand moves up and down, matching the quick strokes of his fingers. Just as quickly as he had gotten you to the peak of your orgasm, his body convulses, signaling his is soon to come, as well.

Your moans crescendo and bounce off the walls of the car, and Bakugou can't help but be spurred on by them. The speed of his hand gets faster, still very much calculated in its movements, your hole fluttering around his digits.

After swiping your thumb across his leaking tip, Bakugou’s body seems even more sensitive, if it’s even possible. His cock violently throbs in your hand, begging to spill its seed. You oblige its wishes and continue your pumps up and down his hard length.

You can feel yourself almost cumming, on the brink of losing your mind. Similarly, Katsuki’s body, his higher-pitched moans, twitching shaft, and milky tip, tell you he’s extremely close.

Then, taking you by surprise, Bakugou cuts off your moans with a hot kiss. Immediately after you make contact, his tongue sweeps against yours in a passionate dance.

“I’m gonna cum!” Your voice gets muffled by the tongue pressing against your own.

The addition his mouth was to your pleasure plunges you right into orgasm. Your body convulses, pussy tightening uncontrollably, and you wail into his mouth. Anything you had ever expected of sex is automatically blown to bits when this atomic force hits you.

You feel your eyesight black out, as if you’ve been hit by a truck. You subconsciously grip harder around Katsuki’s dick, causing his orgasm to come shooting out of him. Long strings of his pearly cum cover the palm of your hand, his cock still moving to let out the last bits of his seed.

The bliss that follows is calming. Bakugou finally pulls out of you, his face coming off of yours to reveal his dazed eyes and flushed cheeks.

You doubt you look appealing, but Bakugou looks at you sweetly and more kindly than you can assume he does with anyone else.

“You did so well, baby,” he whispers to you after leaning down to your level.

You give him a quick peck on the cheek and slowly untangle your limbs from his. Bakugou helps you up and grabs your (borrowed) clothes that had previously been strewn across the other seats.

After dressing yourself and saying a quick goodbye to Bakugou, you slip out of his car and head back into your dorms.

You smile to yourself as you lay in bed alone. On your bedside table you notice you’ve received a new notification, a message from an unknown number. What you see makes you smile and blush.

‘That was such a great night, let’s do it again sometime. - Bakugou’

a/n: hi guys. i’m back for the holidays and i hope to put out part two soon (let’s be honest, i never write things on time). i tried writing something more plot heavy… hope you enjoyed🫶 also, sorry for the edging joke. i think i’m funny.

[artinvain]

your darker sevika fic ideas have my brain going brrrrrrrrrrrrrr and i think we must be on similar wavelengths because lately i've been thinking about reader being obsessive and stalker-ish toward sevika and sevika just finding it charming 'cause she's a little fucked up like that ugh i love her

good lordddyyyy

cw: stalking, slight violence, blood mention, smut, dark!reader

(men, minors, ageless and blank blogs dnf)

It starts off small, you start training to serve at the last drop and sevika is your first customer. you’re flustered and she’s laying it on thick with charm just to see you smile. she can tell you’re taken and it just makes we want to woo you more. It seems different, you don’t want anything from sevika - you seem to want to give things to her.

you’re both immediately enamoured, sevika much less revealing about it. you start to ask around about her not knowing it would get to her but it does.

then she sees you in babette’s she’s pissed because “why did you start working here?” she spits when you come to the table. In all honesty it’s because you know where she likes to go, and you wanted to make sure of something.

“I needed the extra money, I’m just bar tending sevika I promise,” you seem to reassure her, even though she doesn’t deserve it - you two don’t know each other.

“I’ll get you a whiskey,”

when you leave, you take a detour in the back of the kitchen to the rooms. lottie was one of Sevika’s favourites and she had a big mouth.

you figured if you could get your message to lottie she would surely pass it on.

“charlotte,” you whisper and she crooks her head at you, watching you in the threshold of the door through the vanity mirror.

“what do you want?” lottie spits. you were new around and you asked too many questions, you were some kind of freak she’d heard - a new one to town speaking of practicing arcane and all kinds of nonsense

“I need to ask you for something,” you ask smiling small and locking the door behind you. lottie stands and faces you, she stands close like she’s trying to be intimidating. but there wasn’t a bone in you that cared.

she was trying to hold on to someone who did not belong to her. sevika was yours.

“and what’s that?”

“I like you lottie - so I’m warning you. stay away from sevika,” you place a hand gingerly on her cheek and she frowns in confusion.

“sevika has lots of girls”

“that’s why you’ll warn them,” you nod and your nails sink into the skin on her belly button, you rip the ring from her stomach and let it clatter to the floor as she does with a scream.

you sigh and kneel over her as she scrambles away from you, “you’re a fucking freak,” she gasps, red seeping down her skirt. “I hope you can heed my warning before something serious happens,” you say and leave her room.

when you get back to your tables sevika is gone, and everyone refuses your service, you couldn’t do shit and you were tipped any. by the end of the night babette lets you go.

when sevika goes back the next day she’s satisfied to see you gone. smirked at the thought of turning one of her girls over imagining you whining out her name below her.

only none of her girls will even see her, the scamper away - more afraid than usual, looking around paranoid.

when she finds out (because she will always find out) she can’t help but lean back in her chair and chuckle

she’s always the one chasing, the one possessing and to have someone want her so desperately.

it makes her hips buck. oh she’s fucked.

and then she starts getting gifts, food and knitted sweaters and baked goods and letters - poetry and “I hope I’m not too forward - I just want to make sure you’re taken care of,”

you never sign your name and you don’t have to.

she’s not surprised when — as she walks through your apartment, fingering as your lingerie and looking over your book titles — you walk into your apartment and you don’t scream.

“sevika,” you exhale, “you’re here,” you approach her slowly.

sevika pulls you in close and cups the back of your head.

“you could’ve been in serious trouble for what you did to lottie if I didn’t protect you,” she mumurs into your ear and toy swallow.

“I’m sorry, she just wouldn’t back off and I told her to. it was a warning,” you say looking over her face and all you see is soft grey eyes and furrowed brows and bitten lips.

“why?”

“because I belong to you sevika and you have to see that you belong to me too,” you whine desperately and sevika swoops down to kiss you, pressing her hips against yours.

“so you’ll do anything I say?”

“of course,” you mumble against her lips as her hands squeeze your ass

she has you brought to her loft and she’s kissing every piece of flesh she reveals.

“oh fuck good girl, better than anyone else - shit, look so pretty letting me ride your face.”

sevika groans as she holds your head still and fucks your waiting tongue, twisting against her and tasting her.

and then she’s laying herself over you, strap sliding in deep as your eyes roll back.

“m’gonna come home to you every day and fuck you senseless,” she moans as she winds her hips “gotta make sure my pretty little housewife is all taken care of,”

you whine backing into her and yelling into the pillows as she rubs your clit.

😚🏷️ @lesbian-useless @archangeldyke-all @sexysapphicshopowner @sevsbaby @iamaboringrattat @lavendersgirl @bimboprincezz @opropheticsoul @ariariarr @femme-historian

[luxaofhesperides]

Ghostlights cuddling for comfort, but also they're oblivious idiots who are pining over each other but thinks its unrequited

“Ugh,” Duke says, dropping down onto the bench besides Danny.

Danny nudges him with his shoulder. “Rough night?”

“Slept for like an hour,” Duke mutters, “This sucks. My head’s going to burst like balloon and my eyes are about to fall out.”

“Yikes. You know, you could have just canceled for today. I wouldn’t have minded.”

Duke sighs and presses the heel of his palms against his eyes. “Maybe, but I would have minded. We barely see each other anymore, man. I’ve missed you.”

“Oh.” Danny bites his lip, trying and failing to stop from smiling. Something soft in his chest glows at the words, a growing spark of happiness in knowing that for this, at least, the feeling is requited. It’s nice to hear that he was missed, and it would be even nicer if Duke wasn’t in pain, pushing himself just because he didn’t want to cancel. Carefully, Danny reaches for him and pulls his hands away from his face. “Here,” he says, “Let me.”

His hands are always cold. Most of him is cold, really — side effect of having an ice core. Sam told him once that his hands were better than an ice pack, and he’s hoping she’s right or this is going to be weird. 

Danny gently presses his fingers against Duke’s temples, his hands cradling Duke’s face. Duke is tense for a few seconds, then abruptly relaxes, leaning into Danny’s hands. 

“Is this helping?” he asks, voice hushed to keep from aggravating Duke’s migraine.

“Mhm. Yeah, it feels great. Thanks, Danny.”

Duke goes completely limp, leaning against Danny. They sit there for a minute in silence, the rest of the world feeling far away. As nice as it is to just exist together, he knows what Duke needs most right now is quiet and stillness. Gotham is very much not that, and every honking car that passes by makes Duke wince, trying to turn away from the road even more.

“Hey, let’s head back to my place. It’s close by, and a lot quieter than out here.”

“Are you sure? I know we planned to go to the arcade today…”

“The arcade can wait. You’re more important.”

Duke blinks open his eyes and looks at Danny with something soft in his gaze. Being so close together, barely any space between them, with Duke looking at him like that makes Danny’s cheeks flush red, unable to think anything but please kiss me.

Which is never going to happen. Duke is his friend, and just his friend, no matter how much Danny wishes they could be something more. It’s a pipe dream, something so impossible it’s almost laughable. 

Duke likes being friends with normal human Danny. He doesn’t want to imagine how he would react if he found out about Danny being half ghost, assuming this imaginary reveal happens without Danny being hunted down and cut open by GIW agents. 

He’s still in hiding, always waiting for the worst as he stays in the apartment his friends (living and dead) had set up for him. The building is for ghosts so it technically doesn’t exists, which means it’s the safest place for Danny while he’s actively being hunted by the US government. 

He can’t be honest with Duke. Can’t be as close to him as he wants to be. Duke deserves more than to be dragged into Danny’s problems and put in danger.

Even so, Danny can’t help but want him around, pushing his luck each time they hang out.

“Come on,” Danny urges, standing up. He pulls his hands away and Duke’s brow immediately furrows, his pain returning. “It’s only a few streets away.”

Duke sighs, then visibly braces himself before he stands up. Danny tucks himself into Duke’s side, taking as much of his weight as he can as he walks them down the street. It’s times like these that he wishes he could reveal his powers safely and just fly them to his apartment. But even without the GIW gunning for his head, showing off powers in Gotham is a sure fire way to get a target painted on his back.

“Almost there,” he says as they turn a corner. 

His apartment doesn’t have a fixed address. It doesn’t have a fixed location at all, drifting around, but it likes this street the most, so this is where it usually is. Danny takes them halfway down the street, then turns into an alley, following his ghost sense. 

Where there’s usually a dead end is instead a building, looking as if it’s always been tucked away in this alley. Danny keeps a tight grip on Duke as they climb the front steps, silently asking for the building to let him stay while he’s with Danny. The door opens easily, which is as good as an agreement, and they’re inside without anything going wrong. The small entrance lobby is empty, with an area for packages filled with clearly magical artifacts carelessly wrapped in bubble wrap. 

Danny drags them past that quickly, hoping Duke doesn’t notice, and calls the elevator down. It arrives silently, the doors opening to let another tenant out. Carefully, Danny positions himself in front of Duke, making sure he doesn’t see how the tenant, who nods at Danny, has a still bleeding wound in his stomach that has him nearly split in half. 

“Alright,” he says, ushering Duke into the elevator, “Just a little ride up and then you can lay down.” He hits the button for the fourth floor and they ride up in silence, Duke dropping his head down to onto Danny’s shoulder again, wrapping his arms around his waist as he stands behind Danny. He’s glad Duke can’t see his face; there’s no doubt that he’s blushing like crazy and if that doesn’t give away his feelings, he doesn’t know what will.

Thankfully the elevator ride isn’t long. If Danny had to go for more than a minute with Duke breathing softly against his neck, his warm hands on his stomach, Danny would have collapsed into a pile of flustered goo.

He opens the door to his apartment and kicks his shoes off. Duke follows in suit, still plastered onto Danny’s back, refusing to let go. 

“Come on,” Danny says, leading him to the couch, “Sit down and I’ll grad you some water and painkillers.”

Duke nods against his shoulder, then slowly detaches himself from Danny and makes his way to the couch. He drops onto it gracelessly, pressing his face into a cushion. 

Danny winces. He must be feeling really bad. He knows how bad migraines can be with sleep deprivation, having suffered through high school with only a few hours of sleep at night, if he got to sleep at all. Frankly, it’s a testament to Duke’s strength that he lasted the entire walk to Danny’s apartment without complaint. 

He returns to the living room with a full glass of water and a bottle of Advil, setting them on the coffee table to crouch next to the couch and place a cold hand on Duke’s cheek. “Hey,” he says softly when Duke turns to look at him, “Is Advil alright? It’s all I had.”

“Yeah, that’s fine. Thanks, Danny.”

Duke sits up and shakes out three pills, then washes them down with water. He drains the rest of the cup quickly, then falls back against the couch with his eyes squeezed shut.

“Is there anything else I can do to make you feel better?”

Duke immediately reaches a hand out for him.

“Um?”

“Sit next to me. I feel better when I’m next to you.”

“Oh! Alright. Bet you’re only saying that because my hands are cold.”

“You caught me,” Duke laughs, pulling Danny onto the couch. He goes easily, tucking his legs beneath himself, and places his hands on Duke’s temples again. “Man, I owe you my life.”

“I don’t think my cold hands are worth quite that much.”

Duke hums, but doesn’t say anything else, so Danny settles in and focuses on keeping his hands a little colder than normal. 

The apartment is quiet. No sound from outside can reach them, one of the few ways the building looks after its tenants. Danny and Duke fall against each other, at ease with each other. There’s no need to fill in the silence, and with Duke’s eyes closed, Danny doesn’t have to carefully shove down his feelings and act normal. He indulges in the warmth of Duke’s body pressed against his, a hand on his knee and an arm around his waist. 

He keeps his hands as steady as possible as he looks over Duke, adoring all the little details he can see; a small scar on his chin, the fullness of his lips, the way his hair falls into his face now that it’s long enough to keep in braids.

“I can practically hear you thinking,” Duke murmurs, “What’s on your mind?”

You’re cute, he thinks, I feel safe with you. I want to kiss you. I wish I could be brave enough to be honest.

I wish I was brave. I wish I was brave. I wish I was brave.

“Nothing,” he says. “Feeling better?”

“Yeah. I might fall asleep though.”

“That’s fine. You know I would never say no to a nap.”

“Come here, then,” Duke says, and before Danny can do anything, Duke gets a stronger grip on his waist and pulls Danny down on top of him as he falls back towards the arm rest and gets his legs on the couch.

“Duke!”

Duke laughs underneath him, and Danny can feel it roll through him. Okay! This is definitely something he’s going to think about… forever. Wow, he can feel Duke’s abs tense up as he laughs, and has he always been ripped? Unfair. Also unfairly hot. 

“Is this alright?” Duke asks, voice soft and quiet. There’s a hesitancy around his words that Danny doesn’t like hearing, and he brings his hands down to sweep his thumbs soothingly over Duke’s cheeks.

“Of course it is, man. I’d never refuse cuddles.”

“Okay. I’m gonna pass out now. Wake me in an hour?”

Danny moves his hands back up to his temples and says, “Sure. Get some rest, Duke. You really need it.”

He feels Duke relax beneath him, breaths slowing down as he begins to fall asleep. It’s peaceful and quiet and Duke is warm in a way Danny never can be with his ice core. He doesn’t mean to fall asleep, but curled up on the couch with Duke in the safety of an apartment that only barely exists has him drifting off in no time at all.

. . .

(Duke wakes up before Danny. Their legs are tangled together and Duke has moved during his sleep, turning so Danny is held tightly to his chest, his back to the cushions, while Duke is balancing very carefully at the edge of the couch. 

It’s been hours, and he should be heading home soon, but he stays as he is, enjoying this quiet moment for as long as he can have it. Danny is in his arms, safe and content with him, his head no longer hurts beyond a residual ache he can easily ignore, and he can admire how pretty Danny is without being worried about Danny catching his lingering stares. 

These moments are precious to him, rare as they are, and he wants nothing more than to kiss Danny once he’s awake and let his feelings be known.

But the Signal has lots of dangerous people after him, and Gnomon has started causing problems in Gotham again. So he’ll bite his tongue and keep his less platonic feelings buried under lock and key until it’s safe enough for Danny to be around him more often.

And when that time comes, he can only hope that Danny will feel the same way.

That’s all far away from the stillness of Danny’s apartment. All that matters is that he has Danny in his arms. Everything else can wait. 

For now, this is more than enough.)

[theonceandfuturequeenoftarts]

Harry wants it known that he’s at the ministry’s Yule gala under duress. It was all he could do to force himself into his dress robes and make himself presentable; he can’t fathom where he’ll find the energy he needs to get through the rest of the evening.

People he barely knows keep coming up to him – as they always do – to shake his hand, chat with him about this and that, thank him for his role in defeating the dark lord. (Still. He really wishes they’d stop doing that. It’s been more than six years now.)

And then there are pockets of people, staring at him and whispering behind their hands. Another constant in his public appearances, though he imagines the content of their conversations is at least a little different from usual, if not the tone. 

He’s just escaped another fan and is looking to make a beeline for the bar when it happens. Harry sees his doom approaching from several metres away but, since they saw him first and he (stupidly) refuses to run away, he stands there like an idiot, wishing he were anywhere else.

“Hi Harry,” Ginny says. It looks like she wants to hug him or get close, and his shoulders stiffen involuntarily. Thankfully, she stays where she is.

“Hullo Ginny,” he replies and, without looking at the man, utters a terse, “Malfoy.”

The smug arse smirks at him. “Potter.”

“How’ve you been?” Ginny asks, which. Rude. If she actually cared about that, she wouldn’t have cheated on him with the git on her arm, but whatever. 

“Oh, fine. Y’know, keeping busy.” God, he hates small talk.

Before he can respond with the requisite, ‘And you?’, Malfoy jumps in. “Yes, I suppose you have been, from what I’ve heard.”

Ugh. Fucking Malfoy. Harry wishes he had a drink or seven. He can’t believe he’d rather be caught in another conversation with that weirdo from earlier about his wand-care habits, of all things.

Ginny gently elbows Malfoy in the side with a chiding, “Draco.”

He’s considering the merits of letting himself be ripped apart by the anti-apparition wards to get away from this conversation – splinching himself can’t be much more painful than this – when a hand bearing a very welcome drink appears in front of him. That’ll do for now, though splinching is still on the table. Especially when he follows the hand to the arm up to the face and of course it’s Ri– Tom.

Harry gives him the side-eye, but accepts the drink. “Thanks.”

Tom leans in slightly, just enough so the two in front of them can’t read his lips. “You looked like you might be in need of a rescue.”

And as he pulls back out of Harry’s personal space, he rests a hand low on Harry’s back. Harry tenses for a moment before just accepting that tonight is all about him being as uncomfortable as possible. He takes a gulp of his drink – something dark and spicy. It burns pleasantly.

When he starts paying attention again, he finds Ginny looking at Tom with surprise; Malfoy is looking at the other man with – is that a hint of fear? And Tom is staring them both down, but somehow managing to do it with a veneer of politeness. 

“Good evening, Draco,” he says pleasantly. “Ginevra.”

“Riddle.” Malfoy’s greeting is stiff, as is the awkward, aborted bow he gives. Hmm.

“And Harry,” Tom says, turning to look at him fondly. “So good to see you again.”

Hoo boy.

“You,” Harry murmurs from behind the rim of his drink. “Are not subtle.”

Tom takes the opportunity to slide his hand further around Harry’s back, lightly gripping his hip and pulling him closer up against Tom’s side. He returns Harry’s withering look with an undaunted smile. “I wasn’t trying to be.”

“Yeah, I’m getting that.”

“When did you two get so cosy?” Ginny cuts in. Her tone is playful, but there’s more than offhand curiosity lurking beneath.

“Uh.” Shite, he doesn’t ever want Ginny to find out how this started, but especially not in public. Who knows who’s listening in or watching. “We ran into each other by chance a month and a half ago” –actually, he’s how I found out you were fucking Malfoy behind my back– “and we’ve met up a few times since then. It’s nice to have someone… uninvolved to talk to.”

Tom looks amused at that. He’s definitely involved in the demise of Harry’s relationship, and if there’s one thing they haven’t been doing (but probably should), it’s talking.

“I’ve been helping him expand his horizons,” Tom says without apparent innuendo, yet somehow the layered meaning is still obvious. Prat. “Getting him to try new things, keeping him busy.”

“You and half the town,” Malfoy mutters under his breath.

“I see…” Ginny says over him. “Funny how that escaped the rumour mill.” 

Harry laughs awkwardly, wishing for a stray lightning bolt to strike and put him out of his misery. “Must not’ve been exciting enough.”

The conversation dies for long enough to become uncomfortable - well, even more so. Malfoy touches Ginny’s elbow and leans down to speak into her ear. Harry seizes their distraction to turn on Tom.

“Are you sure you don’t want to piss on me to mark your territory while you’re at it?” he asks dryly.

Tom wrinkles his nose delicately in disgust. “No need to be crude. Though…” He gives Harry a considering once-over. “I’m not at all opposed to the idea of you carrying my mark. How do you feel about tattoos?”

Harry snorts. “Not a chance.”

The other man tucks his face in close to Harry’s, breath hot against the skin beneath his ear. “What about bruises?”

As though he doesn’t regularly leave an abundance of those on Harry anyway, what with his penchant for treating Harry like a chew toy. Harry shivers all the same, just a little bit. He can feel the barest brush of Tom’s grin against his neck.

Ginny clears her throat pointedly.

“Good to know,” Tom breathes as he pulls back.

Ginny continues trying to talk to him while Malfoy makes the odd snide comment, Tom attempts to meld into Harry’s side while replying for him and being subtly insulting, and Harry tries to become one with the floor. He realises he’s missed a question when he breaks out of his daze to find both Tom and Ginny are watching him expectantly.

“Huh?”

Ginny starts to say something when Tom cuts her off. "Care to dance?"

If looks could kill, Tom would be in a bad way with how Ginny’s glaring at him. "Harry doesn't dance," she says tetchily. Tom doesn't bother with her, waiting for Harry's wary nod.

He looks back at Ginny smugly. "Perhaps yet another new thing to which I can introduce him.”

“Okay, that’s enough,” Harry says, grabbing Tom’s wrist and dragging him towards the dance floor. Best to get this over with, and all the better if it means he doesn’t have to speak with anyone else in the meantime.

"She's not wrong," he mutters once they don't have to fear being overheard. "I don't dance.”

"Just follow my lead," Tom replies easily. “Would it be correct to say you don’t particularly care about stepping on my toes?”

Harry stares at him blankly for a moment before he feels a reluctant smile appear on his face. “It might be the one redeeming part of this.”

“The only one?” Tom says archly, pulling him into the correct hold. And, without giving Harry a chance to breathe or think, they’re off in what Harry thinks might be a waltz. 

"That was quite the risk you took," Harry says, trying not to stare at his feet and hoping for the best as Tom spins him around the room. He is, oddly enough, a much better dancer when he’s not constantly concerned about crushing someone's foot.

"Was it?"

"Yes. What made you think I wouldn't refuse and let you look foolish?"

He catches sight of a pleased grin on Tom's face from the corner of his eye. "The same thing that made me ask you to dance when I've seen your previous forays. You rise to the occasion when I push you.” He looks at Harry, for a moment, proudly. “I also knew you’d be more than amenable to anything that got you away from those two.”

Harry can’t deny that.

“Now look sharp, and do try to keep up,” Tom says, the hand at Harry’s lower back gripping him a little tighter.

“Wha–?” 

And it’s all he can do not to trip over his feet and take them both down in a painful sprawl, but the rush, the heady triumph of making it through the successive, intricate turns, goes straight to his head. Before he can stop himself, Harry lets out a loud peal of laughter, further disrupting the couples around them and drawing sneers and disapproving glances. And he just doesn’t care. Not that he thinks he normally would’ve, but it feels like it’s been ages since he’s felt so light and happy. So, he doesn’t think about the people around him. He doesn’t think about how it’s Tom who’s making him feel this way. He just basks in the sun-warm feeling of contentment – of being okay for the first time in a while.

(One night)

[soft-mafia]

Throwing my head into the ring and asking for reader insert headcanons with a reader who has recently joined his crew but isn’t really a part of the act yet and works more behind the scenes, but is trying to learn at least some basic circus stuff like juggling or riding a unicycle or even just some basic baton twirling because, well, you should be able to do SOMETHING if you’re a Buggy pirate.

Cue training and practicing and Buggy stepping in to show them how it’s done when they just can’t seem to get it right, which leads to them spending more time together and suddenly feelings! (Bonus points if Buggy isn’t necessarily an awful or strict teacher but he’s also still incredibly sassy when he corrects you „You know you’d get a lot further on the rope if you didn’t wave your arms around like your trying to shoo a snake“ „Are you scared of the balls or why are you throwing them away from you?“ etc)

Flashy and Sexy [Buggy x Reader]

warnings: reader insert, gn reader, I was sleepy when I wrote this, sorry for any grammatical mistakes

a/n: THIS IS SUCH A CUTE REQUESTT🥺 I hope you didn’t mind that I wrote Buggy to have feelings for Y/n from the start😭I thought it would be cute :3

“Awww.. cmon baby, a cute thing like you has got to have some hidden talent!” Buggy slapped his hand on Y/n’s shoulder as he walked them inside of the empty circus tent; some of Buggy’s crew members were scurrying in and out, setting up the scenery before the show.

Buggy went through a lot trying to get Y/n to join his crew, persuading, pleading, flirting, eventually Buggy had tricked them to get onto his ship, luring them in with treasure chests that had gold spilling out of them.

“Captain Buggy, isn’t this considered kidnapping?” Mohji mumbled to Buggy.

“NO! It’s not kidnapping! Don’t tell people I kidnapped them!”

Y/n was panicking on the deck, watching as the island they used to call home grew smaller and smaller in the distance.

Now that Y/n was now stuck with him, he wanted to make them one of the main attractions of his act(besides himself of course) he mainly wanted Y/n to be eye candy for himself; he nearly got nosebleeds thinking about all of the skimpy, revealing outfits and bikinis he could dress Y/n in.

“Well- I don’t.. I don’t really know what I’m good at..” Y/n said, watching as some crew members strung up some streamers, “I mean, I don’t know what I’m good at that would be an.. entertaining circus act.”

“Hmm..” Buggy looked Y/n up and down, getting lost in ogling them before he quickly snapped back to reality and focused back on the issue at hand, “You’d look good as a juggler.. OH! You’d definitely look good walking on a tightrope!” Buggy had a goofy grin on his face as he imagined dressing Y/n in a skimpy outfit.. watching them juggle some balls or walk on a tightrope above him.

Y/n gave Buggy a look, they knew that look on his face and they tried to ignore that. Ever since Buggy began flirting with them they had tried to ignore it, although they couldn’t help but notice how.. handsome he actually was despite being caked in clown makeup that sometimes look like it hadn’t been wiped off in days. His eyes were what drew Y/n in the most; enchanting green orbs, and in certain lighting his brow would cast a shadow over them, making them stand out more.

Though it was his smile that brought out his eyes the most— and Y/n tried their hardest to ignore that, always looking away when he would flirt with them. Ugh, no way they were going to fall in love with a pirate clown.

“Come on, here—“ Buggy said as he quickly strode to one of the barrels sitting off to the side, pulling out a bag of small colorful rubber balls, “Try these, it’s basic and easy but it catches people’s attention.” He reached into the bag and then threw three balls at Y/n.

Y/n squeaked, but caught the balls, awkwardly holding them close to their body, one of them had fallen out of their arms.

“I’ll start you off with 3, that should be easy— trust me, it gets easier once you get a hang of it!” Buggy grinned, then gave Y/n an unintentionally hard pat on the back, making them slightly lurch forward and drop all of the balls.

It had been about 30 minutes now, yet Y/n was still on 3 balls— proving Buggy that this kind of talent would be difficult for Y/n to pick up. They squeaked, jerking back when they thought one of the balls was about to fall onto their head. Buggy groaned and leaned his head back, then looked back at Y/n with his hands on his hips, “What are you, scared of the balls? Why do you keep running away from them?” He marched over to Y/n and picked up one of the the rubber balls they dropped and squeezed it between his thumb and index “These are small, rubber balls! What’s there to be afraid of?!” He rolled his eyes and dropped it, “Ok let’s try something else..”

Buggy looked over at Cabaji’s unicycle.. the guy wasn’t using it at the moment, so maybe he could… nah, if Y/n had trouble managing some colorful toys they couldn’t possibly handle riding a unicycle; he didn’t want his eye candy getting hurt of course..

“Alright, tightrope it is!”

Upon hearing Buggy say that— Y/n felt their stomach drop. And before they knew it, they were on a tight rope. It actually wasn’t so bad.. but Y/n felt like a newborn baby deer.

“Whatever you do, don’t look down!!” Buggy called out from below. His words just made Y/n want to look down, when they did.. it suddenly felt like they were even more high up than they actually were; the comfort of the net underneath them wasn’t even comfort anymore. Y/n began to panic, shaking even more and moving their arms around in an attempt to balance themself.

“NO!! NO!! I told you to NOT look down— STOP WAVING YOUR ARMS LIKE YOU’RE SWATTING FLIES!! What are you doing?! You were doing so well!!” Buggy shouted out again, groaning before turning around as Y/n screamed bloody murder, falling and thankfully landing on the net down below.

Tightroping was a no-go..

“Alright! Baton twirling would be perfect for you. All you need is this, and maybe a bikini, you’d get all the guys drooling.” Buggy mumbled the last part of his sentence to himself, he could just imagine it now. He was envisioning the most perfect feathery outfit he could dress them in. Sexy and flashy! He swallowed at the dryness in his throat before tossing Y/n a sparkly baton, “Have at it!”

Y/n held the baton, tilting their head and looking at the instrument as if it was some foreign object they’ve never seen before in their life. Buggy sighed and walked around behind them, his gloved hands hovered over their arms for a minute as his jaw clenched, he gulped again; this was the closest he’s ever got to Y/n.. their body felt so nice pressed up against his chest.

Y/n could feel Buggy’s chest against their back, his arms hovering inches away from their own gave them slight tingles. His scent invaded their nose.. they felt the blush creep upon their cheeks. “Here- let me..” Buggy mumbled, quiet and gruff, but loud and intelligible enough for Y/n to hear; but damn they never heard Buggy’s voice get that low before, it did something to them— it gave them more tingles that headed straight down to their abdomen. “O-Ok.” Y/n gulped as well.

Buggy breathed out as he wrapped his hands around Y/n’s respective wrists, his arms pressed up against theirs. The man swallowed again, jaw clenched tightly. “Ready?” He asked them, his voice was low and husky, Y/n’s eyes were wide and their heart was beating fast in their chest. Buggy’s large hands holding their wrists, and the feeling of being encased in his arms was making them swoon. “Are you just using this as an excuse to touch me?” Y/n giggled lightly to cut the thick tension in the air. They heard Buggy scoff above them, “What? No! No of course not baby!” That pet name he would always call them, paired with the position that Buggy was holding them in, was making Y/n fluster even more.

“Hold it like this, ok?” Buggy said, positioning Y/n’s hands, his fingers almost interlocked with theirs; his gloved hand felt so large as he held it against theirs. “Good, good, just like that.”

Y/n inhaled sharply, Buggy calling them good like that made them weak at the knees, they found themselves hardly focusing as Buggy began to explain how to spin and work a baton— how to perform tricks.

Y/n just noticed that Buggy had taken his jacket off earlier, their eyes drifted to his toned arms, years of hauling loot and treasure gave him some attractive arms.. it was a weird thought but, the way his muscles flexed as he maneuvered their hands to work the baton, and the way his skin felt on theirs, sun kissed tanned skin against [s/t] [s/c].

“You got it?” Buggy spoke up, bringing Y/n out of their thoughts, they forgot what was happening for a second until they saw the baton. “O-Oh!! Umm.. can you, explain that?” Their voice was shaky.. I can’t be falling in love with this guy.. he’s— he’s a clown! He’s a fucking clown! God but that nose.. I can probably put it inside of my— NO!!

Buggy looked down at Y/n, not speaking for a moment which was surprising for a flashy, boisterous man like Buggy. His mouth was parted for a moment, just staring down at the top of Y/n’s head; god he just wanted to bury his nose into their hair.. his big red nose that they couldn’t possibly ever find attractive— Buggy’s jaw clenched tightly again as he exhaled harshly.

Y/n looked up at Buggy, their [e/c] eyes meeting his enchanting greens. “Buggy?”

Buggy’s eyes softened as he looked down at their gaze, what was wrong with him? Really? He was utterly whipped for this person. He grinned down at them, his hands sliding up to cup their face, “Captain Buggy.” He corrected them, chuckling a bit, before his eyes widened as he realized how intimate his hands were on their jaw, he quickly drew back, “Ah!” He cleared his throat, “S-Sorry.” He mumbled, his hands patting his thighs for a moment before putting them on his hips, looking away.

Y/n gulped and held the baton close to themselves, “Oh! N-No it’s fine..” they gave a small smile at him before looking away as well. They thought about how good it felt when Buggy held them.. and when he put his hands on their face— oh god.

“Ok- let’s uh.. get back to, uh, the baton twirling thing.” Buggy said awkwardly, moving his finger around in a circle quickly before stepping back closer to Y/n.

Later in the evening, sun was setting and it was show time. Buggy’s crew members had brought in the audience— the towns people that were there against their will.. the show was spectacular; it was probably the only night that everything was perfect for Buggy. Everybody was on time— and the captain’s eye candy.. Y/n. His little baton twirler, they did amazing. The way their body moved made Buggy feel like his heart and eyes were about to comically pump out of his body.

This was the happiest the Buggy pirates had ever seen their captain after a show. The first person he wanted to look for was Y/n— they were spectacular, Buggy hadn’t focused on anything else ever since Y/n hit the floor.

“Baby you were amazing!!” Buggy said gleefully as he came up behind Y/n and wrapped his arms around their waist, lifting them up off of the ground as they squealed; rightfully taken off guard, “Thanks Buggy!”

He didn’t correct them this time. Buggy grabbed Y/s shoulders after he placed them back onto the ground, then turned them around to face him, “I knew you had something hidden in that sweet body of yours.” Buggy grinned, poking Y/n in their chest, eyeing them up again before tightly hugging them once more. His face was placed in the nape of their neck, their scent invaded his nose and it was heaven for him.

“What a weird thing to say!” Y/n giggled, but returned Buggy’s strong embrace. Buggy was holding them again, and damn did it feel good. Buggy’s hold was firm and warm, his hands squeezed their body. Y/n didn’t want him to let go this time.

Buggy leaned back, but still held onto Y/n, their eyes locked again. Y/n didn’t look away like they usually did, his handsome face looked amazing in the backstage lighting, “Buggy I-..” Y/n started, then felt the heat rising to their face again. Buggy leaned in closer, “Yeah?”

Y/n could practically hear their heart beating in their ears, “Can.. can I kiss you?” They looked away for a moment, then looked back up at him.

Buggy was on cloud nine. He was hooting and hollering on the inside, doing backflips and crying of joy in his mind. “Yes! Yes!!” He leaned in, aiming to kiss Y/n— “OUCH!” Y/n drew back and covered their hands over their face. Buggy got too excited and accidentally hit Y/n with his nose instead of kissing them.. Buggy’s face went red with embarrassment as he stepped back as well, he quickly got frustrated with himself, “URG!! DAMMIT!!” He turned around and slapped a hand over his forehead, then turned back towards Y/n, “Y/n baby I’m sorry— I- I didn’t mean to do that I swear, are you ok?!”

Y/n blinked for a little bit, then moved their hands away from their face and giggled up at Buggy, they wrapped their arms around Buggy’s neck and jumped up, tilting their head far to the side to avoid bumping into his nose again, successfully kissing him this time. Buggy’s eyes widened, taken aback by Y/n’s kiss but, he quickly melted.

This was all he ever wanted— kissing Y/n felt amazing, there were fireworks setting off in Buggy’s mind.

[rena-lily]

Guysss I was thinking what if one day Epel invited Sebek back to Harveston just to hang out and Yuu and grim tag along. It’s just the 4 of them, and then when they get there Marja is just like yall should join the competition going on. Epel then remembers there was a talent show that happens around that time. Yuu being the good friend they are suggested that Epel and Sebek should join but they have no idea what to do.

Yuu suddenly suggests for them to sing as a duo. Sebek and Epel are just like ???what why??? And Yuu like No guys listen I know a good song yall can sing!!! And Yuu starts getting a manic look in there eyes and honestly Sebek and Epel are kinda scared to say no to them… Anyways the song ended up being a descendants song (maybe What’s my name???).

Marja desperately wants them to win because well they’re from harveston so THEY BETTER WIN! They happen to meet the Dwarves there again for some reason but this time Neige seems to be with them. Neige immediately recognizes Epel and is like OMGGG you’re Vil’s junior! And then he looks at Sebek and starts to introduce himself. Sebek is lowkey a bit put off by him but he continues to introduce himself as well before Epel pushes him along so they can practice(They cannot STAND RSA students and their little “we wAnT To MaKE EveryONe hapPY!” Ugh DISGUSTING imagine hanging out and being friends🤢)(they act as if they haven’t been laughing and having the best time)(They’re literally best friends🤞 the sooner they accept it, the better).

Anyways on the day of the competition Sebek and Epel manage to somehow beat Neige and his friends??? And they’re so DAMN HAPPY!!! LIKE EPEL IS JUST FULL ON SCREAMING AND TALKING IN HIS COUNTRY TONE WHILE SEBEK IS ALSO SO HAPPY>:3 Epel and Sebek start to hug eachother before they realized that they were acting like “friends” so they immediately separate despite still smiling. Marja and Yuu go over to congratulate them and Neige comes over too. Neige is genuinely so curious on who Sebek is and how he sang so good??? They all ended up taking a group picture with Neige and went back home.

Now what they didn’t know is that Yuu took a video of them and posted it on Magicam and the added picture posted Neige made them legit BLOW UP on magicam. Like everyone is wondering who they are and they’re legit blowing up everywhere! It got to the point where magicam temporarily shut down for a bit! Vil and Cater ended seeing the twos video and Cater is showing EVERYONE! He went to show Adeuce and those two are lowkey offended that Epel and Sebek didn’t tell them where they were going but hey they’re lowkey impressed by their performance! Vil legit dropped his cup from shock, Rook who was also there caught it and they both watched the video. Vil doesn’t even know what to say, obviously he was proud but did it have to be Neige who posted about him. ALSO Vil is completely impressed by Sebek( WHERE WAS HE WHEN VDC WAS HAPPENING???) Vill resolved that he was gonna give the potatoes lessons when they got back(yes Sebek too, he doesn’t care what Sebek thinks about it). Rook is also very impressed by Monsieur Crocodile and Cherry Apple’s performance and he just found his next target to observe!(In Harveston Sebek starts to sneeze vigorously and Epel run to get him earmuffs).

Eventually they got so popular that it spread all over the school. Now everyone’s talking about them. Cater goes to show Lilia and Kalim when he goes to music club and Lilia is genuinely jaw dropped, HE NEVER KNEW HIS STUDENT COULD SING???, and Cater starts asking why Lilia didn’t tell him that Sebek was so good and Lilia just can’t respond cause he didn’t know either???😭 anyways Lilia goes to show Silver and Malleus and they’re all like pointing at eachother and asking if eachother knew Sebek could sing?! They lowkey feel bad that they didn’t know… They ended up resolving that they’d talk and spend more time with Sebek when he came back.

But as the hour passes, more and more keep Sebek and Epel and start expressing their interest in them. Dia 3 are not happy about this(SEBEK IS TOO YOUNG TO DATE! HE NEEDS TO BE ATLEAST 200 y/o BEFORE HE EVEN TJINKS OF DATING)(Silver lowkey thinks they’re overreacting but he also doesn’t want Sebek to date so he agrees with them). At this rate they’re gonna have to beat everyone off with a stick(did Silver and malleus just hear Vil saying he was gonna steal Sebek???)(Suddenly it started thundering outside and Vil ran inside the school)(THERE IS NO WAY HIS GUARD(his brother figure) IS GONNA GET STOLEN AWAY FROM HIM!).

DESPITE THE AMOUNT OF CHAOS GOING ON BACK AT NRC AND ON THE JNTERNET, Epel and Sebek are back at Harveston unaware of the storm that was gonna hit them when they got back to NRC, oh well they’ll just enjoy their time rn!

Yuu is in the corner smirking evilly while laughing by themselves looking at their phone(Grim looks at the human concerned before just inching away from their servant and getting more phone, as long as it as nothing to do with him he’s fine).

LIKE CMON LOOK AT THEM!!! THEY EVEN HAVE MATCHING POSES!!! I NEED THEN TO HAVE MORE INTERACTIONS!!!

[jenjibear]

NCT DREAM AS BOYFRIENDS PREFRENCE/IMAGINE

(Fluff)

Bullet points cause I’m too tired to write paras TT

Gender neutral

Mark

* so soft, So sweet and attentive.

* He will always be there for you no matter what. No matter the time he will be there ready to listen to you because he can’t stand to see you hurt or sad.

* Puts you before himself because he is so selfless like that

* writes songs for you because he loves to hear your opinions on them

Overall a boyfriend who is just like a friend, and will always be there for you to depend on.

Renjun

* loves to have little art dates with you, drawing and painting together

* likes to take you to karaoke to sing with you because he loves your voice and how it sounds when you sing with him.

* matching clothes always, you look like the couple fit pics from Pinterest

* no matter how savage he is with the members he is always sweet with you.

Overall a boyfriend who loves the little things, and the time he spends with you.

Jeno

Where do I even begin ><

* gives you his hoodies, even without you asking..he says it’s cause you look cold he actually just thinks you look amazing in them.

* shares his gummies with you and no one else!

* loved to give you back hugs while you work/study

* bike rides through the park together are a regular occurrence

Overall a boyfriend who knows how to make you feel loved, and loves to see you smile

Haechan

* gamer boyfriend, hopped up on red bull,no sleep and a dream…but will still smile at you no matter how tired he is because you are better than caffeine

* teaches you how to play league so you can game together

* lazy big day dates are a regular thing after he spends all night gaming

* is relentless if you don’t give him enough affection so give him plenty of smooches

Overall he is that gamer boy boyfriend we’ve all dreamed about at some point, but will always have time for his love

Jaemin

Stop I’m so soft for Jaemin as a boyfriend

* cooks 3 meals a day for you because you will not skip any meals while he’s around, you are his love and he is going to make sure you are happy and healthy

* spams your phone relentlessly with lovey dovey paragraphs to ensure you always have a smile on your face

* you get exclusive pictures of the kids (his cats) but you’re still his number 1

* refuses to sleep unless you are beside him

Overall a boyfriend who isn’t afraid to love you and show you your worth, treats you like royalty because that’s what you deserve

Chenle

* takes you to watch him play basketball because he loves hearing you cheer and encourage him, he swears it makes him play better

* spoils you rotten within reason

* loves to cuddle into you while watching videos on his phone

* like Jaemin, you get exclusive photos of Daegal on the regular

Overall a fun and easy going boyfriend who loves just having you in his life and how much joy you bring with you.

Jisung

Ugh jisung TT

* stays up late on FaceTime with you if he can’t be beside you (usually when on schedule or tour) because he can’t stand being away from you

* sends you videos and photos that remind him of you just because

* innocent touches while you cuddle up to watch movies together

* constants has a lovestruck look on his face when you’re around

Overall a boyfriend who is your first love, and makes you feel warm inside and never makes you feel alone

[candycandy00]

CANDYYY!! Congratulations on 2k followers!! You deserve every single one of them!! 💕💕

I saw the build your own fanfic adventure and you know I have to get in on this soooooooo:

Character: Dabi (what a surprise there 😂)

AU setting: Honestly I'm so stuck between Gothic Mansion and Monster Forest, I'll let you decide!!

Spice level: screw it let's go all the way, NSFW bb

Mood: I'll leave it up to you! You know me, I could go either way!

Kink: ugh I'll indulge a little today, Breeding/Daddy kink (sometimes I like being taken care of, you know?? 😂😂)

Have fun my love! 😘 Can't wait to read Choso's chapter!!

Waxwork - A Dabi x Reader Fanfic

Smut. 18+. Fem Reader. Dabi as a werewolf. Dabi as a vampire. Light vampire-related blood. Rough sex. Breeding. Oral sex. Heavily inspired by the 1988 horror film “Waxwork”.

This ended up a lot longer than I planned but I hope you like it, babe!

Part of CandyCandy’s 2k Followers Event! Any feedback is loved! Dividers by @benkeibear.

You’ve always loved wax museums, so when a new one opened up in town, you just had to visit on opening day. You walk through the doors, noting sadly that there isn’t a very big crowd. After looking through the “historical figures” and “celebrities” sections, you wander into the “fictional characters” area. 

There are highly detailed wax figures lovingly made to recreate various famous scenes from novels and movies. A large portion of them are horror, and so you feel a chill down your spine as you notice you’re the only visitor in this section. 

Some of the wax figures look so realistic, you find yourself staring at them to make sure they’re not moving. You walk around, looking at the displays, before stopping at one that fascinates you. 

The scene looks like the interior of a cabin in the woods. There are even fake trees outside the windows. The “room” is lit by a fireplace. Near the door, there’s a young man bent backwards in what appears to be agony, in the midst of a transformation. He has messy white hair, and half his body is covered in white fur, giving the illusion that the fur is spreading. His dark clothes are ripped, and he’s clutching his head with his hands, one of them tipped with razor sharp claws. His eyes, so bright blue that they seem to glow, are staring upwards. You imagine he’s staring at a full moon.

Also in the display is a young woman in a ragged dress, recoiling from him in horror. Strangely, she resembles you. Her build is the same as yours, as well as her hair. But with her face so twisted by fear, you can’t really tell if that resembles yours too. 

Your eyes keep being drawn back to the man, to the fine white fur that looks like crushed velvet. You want to touch it, to feel it beneath your fingertips. And his eyes… so beautiful. 

Wait… did his eyes just move? For a fraction of a second, you thought his eyes flicked down to your face. But surely you imagined it. You laugh nervously, deciding you’ve been looking at this display for too long. 

You move quickly to the next display, this one looking like the ornate dining room of a gothic castle. Sitting at the table in a beautiful Victorian style dress is a young woman who looks almost identical to the one from the previous display. Which means she looks just like you. Her hair is pinned up in an intricate style, and her dress is way too immodest to be historically accurate. It’s an off the shoulder design that is extremely low cut, exposing way more cleavage than was probably common in the Victorian era. 

The young woman is holding a steak knife in her hand, and has apparently cut her finger on it by accident, as a shiny drop of red “blood” is made to look as if it’s dripping down her hand. But the most interesting part of this display is the man standing behind her, like a predator. 

You draw in a sharp breath as you look at him, realizing with a tinge of alarm that he’s the same as the man from the werewolf display, with slight differences. This one has black hair, and is wearing a black Victorian suit with a cape. He also has scars covering the lower half of his face. But those eyes… those lovely blue eyes… they’re the same. There’s a look of hunger in them as he leans over the woman, staring at the drop of blood. You look at the blood too, trying to imagine why he finds it so compelling. 

Oh, he must be a vampire! You almost laugh at yourself for being so slow to realize it. You casually glance back up at his face, and your breath catches in your throat. 

He’s looking straight at you. Not at the drop of blood, but at you. 

Your heart pounds furiously as you stare at him, locked in his gaze. This time you’re certain. His eyes moved! You know for a fact he was looking at the woman’s hand before! So why is he looking into your eyes now? 

This must be some kind of trick or gimmick, you tell yourself, trying to calm down. Maybe the wax figure has some sort of mechanized feature that makes his eyes move, as a way to excite the visitors. Or, judging by how realistic he looks, maybe he’s an actor! The possibility makes you feel quite silly. 

You back away, suddenly eager to leave this section of the museum, but your back collides with something and your body bounces forward, causing you to stumble over the velvet rope cordoning off the display and fall directly into it. You close your eyes and brace for the impact of the floor, but instead you black out. 

When your eyes snap open, you’re sitting at the fancy table in the dining room. There’s a plate of delicious looking food in front of you and a steak knife in your hand. A single drop of blood is sliding down your index finger. You look in front of you, where the rope should be, but it’s not there. In fact, the rest of the museum is gone! You really are in a complete dining room! 

All at once you remember the other occupant of the room, and you slowly turn your head to look over your shoulder. Leaning over you is the very beautiful, very alive, vampire with the black hair and the scars. 

“Did you cut yourself? Are you okay?” he asks. You expected his voice to be more smooth and formal, given his attire, but he sounds like any random guy you go to college with. 

You’re not sure what to say, wondering if this is a dream or not. Did you hit your head when you fell? 

The man grabs your hand, firmly but not harshly, and pulls it up to his face to examine it. “Looks like a small cut,” he says, then wraps his scarred lips around your finger, his tongue lapping gently at the blood. 

You’re so transfixed that you don’t think to pull your hand away until he’s finished. His eyes move over you, and you’re suddenly very aware of how obscenely low cut your dress is. You stand up from the table and look around, still hoping to see the rest of the museum somewhere. But it’s just not there. 

“Not running off, are you?” the man asks, a hint of a grin on his face. “It’s been a long time since I’ve had someone for dinner.” His tongue runs over his lips as he says it, making your face flush with heat. 

“Um, I’m not really sure where I am,” you say, your back against the edge of the table. 

He steps closer to you. “You’re in my home, doll, and we’re about to have dessert.”

You feel paralyzed as he gets closer and closer, until his body is pressed against yours. He’s taller than you, probably a little older, but he’s fucking gorgeous. 

Maybe this is a dream. Maybe it’s a concussion-induced hallucination. But whatever it is, you might as well enjoy it. 

You reach up and wrap your arms around him as he lifts you up and sits you on the table, the plates and silverware magically gone. His mouth is on your neck, licking along a vein before you feel a sharp pain. He’s biting you! The pain is intense for a few moments, and then disappears, replaced by a feeling of euphoria. You can feel his teeth tearing at your delicate skin, can feel his tongue gliding along the wound, but it doesn’t hurt at all now. You only feel warm and aroused, listening to the sensual sucking sounds as he devours your blood. 

He lies you back on the table and pulls away from your neck. His mouth is sticky and red. He pulls the top of your dress down, freeing your breasts, and then his hands and mouth are upon them, squeezing and licking. 

You moan, clutching his shoulders, opening your legs ever wider as his body presses to you. Eventually he reaches down and rips the skirt of your dress right up the middle, clearing himself a path to your panties and exposing your white garter belt and stockings. He tears the panties away and bends down, running his tongue along your heated, damp flesh. You arch your back, ridiculously turned on by the idea of a vampire eating you out. His tongue, still wet with your blood, circles your clit, driving you to madness. 

When you’re right on the edge of climax, he stops and pulls away, opening his pants to the sounds of your panting. “Gonna be a good girl for me?” he asks, sliding his hand up and down his hard, pleasingly large shaft. 

“Yes! I’ll be so good!” you breathe out, locking your legs around his body, pulling him closer. 

He grins as he shoves himself into you, licking your blood from his lips. His thrusts are deep, intimate, and hit your sweet spot just perfectly. “Ahh… feels so good…” you cry. 

You want to moan his name, but you have no idea what it is. 

“That’s it,” he says with a grunt, thrusting deeper, “taking me so well!”

Fuck it. Just go with the vibes. 

“Harder, Daddy!”

He looks down at you, momentarily surprised, but then he laughs and fucks you harder than you’ve ever been fucked before. 

You were already on the edge of cumming, and now you’re pushed over the edge by the way his tip hits your cervix, making you bounce off the table. You cum while clenching his cock. 

Just before he releases his seed inside you, painting your womb in his color, he leans forward and bites your neck again. There’s that brief searing pain again, contrasting so deliciously with the pleasure rippling through you as his cock pulses in your body. 

He pulls away, licking his lips again and pulling you up to your feet by your hand, like a gentleman. You’re in a daze as he leads you to the door of the room. “Thanks, doll. I haven’t had any visitors in a long time. Hopefully I’ll see you in the next one.”

“Next one?” you ask, confused as you walk through the door. 

You find yourself back in the museum, standing in front of the vampire display. But it looks different now. The woman sitting at the table doesn’t look like you anymore, instead having plain, almost blank features. And the man, the vampire, is standing up straight, looking right at you, a subtle grin on his bloody lips. 

Startled, you step back and touch your hand to your neck. You can feel the puncture wounds, the slick blood trickling out. 

Was… was that real?  

Somewhat delirious, you stagger away, and end up stumbling right into another display. This time you blink and you’re in the cabin in the woods. You’re the girl in the torn dress, cowering in fear of the white haired man who is turning into a werewolf before your very eyes. 

He looks at you through his agony as his body transforms, and you can see the recognition in his eyes. 

“Oh fuck, not this one!” he says, trying to move away from you. “Run! Get… to the edge… of the forest! Hurry!”

“What’s happening!?” you scream. “How did I even get here?”

“It’s the museum!” he shouts, clutching his head in pain. “Listen, you have to run! I can’t… control this form! I go fucking feral!”

You stand there, frozen, watching the soft white fur spread across his lean body, the claws on his hands get longer, the teeth in his much wider mouth become large and sharp. Two white furry ears even grow out of the top of his head. 

“Feral, you say?” The question rolls off your tongue. Watching him writhe in pain as his body changes is… actually kind of hot. 

He looks at you, blue eyes wild, and he seems to understand what you want. The transformation is complete. He stands before you much taller than before, covered head to toe in that lovely white fur. There’s a primal feel to the way he looks at you. Animalistic. Predatory.

Either he’s going to rip you apart or fuck your brains out. You really really hope it’s the latter. 

He lunges forward and tackles you to the floor, pushing you face down onto the rug in front of the fireplace. His movements are fast and aggressive, but not too rough. He easily could have killed you already. 

With one swipe of his powerful claws, your dress is in tatters, barely clinging to your body in tiny strips that cover nothing. Behind you, he lifts your hips and spreads your thighs, and almost immediately plunges into your slick pussy. 

You cry out, gripping the rug in your hands as he begins fucking into you, your bare chest and stomach rubbing against the rug with each thrust. Ah, his cock feels incredible! It’s long and hard, covered in a thin layer of soft velvety fur. As he takes you from behind, he uses one hand to lightly scrape his claws down your back. 

“Oh god!” you scream out when one clawed hand reaches around and finds your clit, rubbing and pinching it, making your body tremble. You don’t have to tell him to fuck you harder. You don’t think he possibly could. Your knees are wobbling, barely supporting you, your face is pressed into the rug, your tears seeping into it. You’ve never felt this good in your entire life. 

You feel him twitching inside you, and just as you feel his scalding hot cum shoot directly into your womb, you feel your own orgasm wash over you. Moaning and panting, you stay there on the rug, your face buried in it, until he eventually pulls out. By the time you have the energy to roll over and look at him, he’s reverted back to human form. 

He’s standing there naked, his white hair damp and hanging in his eyes. He drops down onto the rug beside you, and you scoot closer to him, pulling your knees up to your chest. 

“What is this place?” you ask him. “Is this really still the museum?”

The fireplace is roaring behind you, and you can hear the wind blowing through the trees outside the cabin. 

“I think every display is its own pocket dimension,” he says. “But fuck if I know how it all works.”

You look at him intently. “Who are you?”

He shrugs. “Just a guy who got stuck here. I came to the museum with some friends a few years ago, stumbled into one of the displays, and got stuck. I stayed inside too long, so now I can’t leave.”

“Why not?” you ask. 

“When I finally found the border, the way back to the museum, I stuck one arm out and it instantly turned to wax. As long as I stay in the displays, I’m flesh and blood. But I can move my consciousness around the different dimensions.”

You suddenly feel panicked. “What about me?”

He grins. “You’ll be fine. You haven’t been here nearly long enough. Certain rare people get pulled in, and I always lead them out.”

You meet his gaze for a few moments, then say, “I’ll come back! I’ll visit you as often as I can!”

He gives you a somewhat sad smile. “The museum moves around to different towns. We probably won’t be here for longer than a year.”

“Then I’ll track it down!” you say forcefully, causing him to blink in surprise. “Wherever you go, I’ll find you!”

“I hope so,” he says, then he stands up and heads for the door, opening it. He tosses a blanket to you to cover yourself with and says, “You better get going. Head to the edge of the forest and you’ll be back in the museum.”

You wrap the blanket around yourself as you walk through the door. You stop and look back at him. “What’s your name?”

He smiles. “Touya.”

Minutes later, you’re back in the museum, standing in front of the werewolf display. The man who was once bent back in pain is standing calmly in the cabin now, looking at you without moving. You wave to him before turning to leave. “See you later, Touya!”

[avocado-writing]

Hello! May i please request a Crowley x Reader where they have a crush on each other but they’re both so oblivious to the other’s feelings… (they make it very painful for Aziraphale some days lmao)

Now here is the plot twist : the angel and the demon switched bodies - like they did in the last episode of S1 - but reader isn’t aware of that, so they come up to ‘Aziraphale’ (or so they believe) talking about Crowley and how “he will never return their feelings”

When they find out that the one they’ve been complaining to is no one other than Crowley himself, they feel so embarrassed but even if he teases them at first, he is quick to reassure them and tell them he feels the same?

Thank you!! :)

notes: my friend M did a very funny react when she beta’d this fic and im including at the end

pairing: Crowley x reader

rating: T

“Ugh,” you announce as you walk out of the torrent and in through the door of the bookshop. Aziraphale glances up from his book and sees you dripping wet.

“Oh, raining, is it?”

“Gosh, you must be re-reading the Sherlock Holmes novels, Aziraphale, you’re ever so insightful,” you say, rolling your eyes. You don’t mean it spitefully, though. You get on rather well with Aziraphale and some gentle ribbing is an intrinsic part of that friendship.

He helps you off with your coat and hangs it on the rack. You rub your arms to warm yourself up.

“Would you like a blanket? Cup of tea?”

“Ooh, I’d murder a cuppa,” you confess. Aziraphale obliges and heads into the kitchen, and soon you hear the kettle sing. You watch the rain hit the window and travel down, rather glad you’re not outside in it any more, and call out:

“Crowley here today?”  

“Hmm? Oh, no. He’s off tempting someone somewhere, I should imagine.”

Your heart sinks a bit, but that’s alright. It’s not like seeing Crowley is your favourite part of the week.

“Why do you ask?” Aziraphale asks, popping his head out of the kitchen.

“About?”

“Crowley.”

“Oh, don’t make me say it,” you beg. He knows you’ve been lugging around a crush for that demon for yonks now, and he never gets tired of teasing you about it. You don’t want this to be a repeat of that conversation. Not when you’ve been trudging through the rain for the last twenty minutes, you can’t be arsed.

“Say what?”

“Aziraphale…”

“No, go on.”

You furrow your brow. There’s a strange, intense energy to the angel that you’ve not seen before. It’s quite unlike him. And yet you find yourself opening your mouth and once again confessing:

“What, that I’ve had a massive crush on him for ages, and he has no idea? That’s what you want me to repeat, so you can make fun of me?”

Aziraphale stares.

“What?”

“You’re being weird, Aziraphale.”

Aziraphale comes closer, still solemn. You want to take a step back but you’re by the window. 

“Say it again.”

“Aziraphale?”

“Please.”

There’s something in his voice, something desperate, and it makes you comply. 

“I fancy Crowley.”

And suddenly Aziraphale’s mouth is on yours. He has a hand either side of your face and his lips are firm and insistent. You’re so utterly baffled all you can do is stand there, baffled. This has come out of nowhere. 

By the time you have your senses about you he’s pulled back, swiping a thumb across your cheek and staring into your eyes. 

“What?” is all you can manage. Aziraphale seems to notice something and glances at himself. 

“Oh, right. Sorry.”

And with a glimmer, it’s Crowley standing before you. 

This only serves to make you more confused. 

“What?!” you say once more, with feeling. Crowley grins sheepishly. 

“The angel told me. I didn’t believe him when he said it at first, and he told me you’d never confess yourself… so he suggested a swap.”

Things fall into place. Yes. They told you they’ve done this before. You never thought you’d be on the receiving end. 

“You cheeky bastard!” you snap, thumping his chest. 

“Oh! Ow, what was that for?”

“I can’t believe you’d play a trick on me! I look like an idiot!”

“You look like an idiot? I’m the one who didn’t realise I’d made it seem like your friend had made a pass at you.”

You pause in your tirade. 

“You meant to make a pass at me?”

“Well I didn’t kiss you for no reason did I?”

You consider this and suddenly all the anger leaves you. You deflate under Crowley’s touch, which you realise he still has on you. 

“We’re idiots, aren’t we?” you ask quietly. Crowley shrugs. 

“Maybe. But then I’d be an idiot who wants to kiss you again.”

“I think that would be quite alright with me, actually.”

He does. 

“Oh, Crowley?”

“Mmm?”

“Never do that switcheroo thing again.”

“Cross my heart.”

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