#do take care not to faint while looking at it

[kitkat13001]

⋆⭒˚.⋆ 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚊𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞

⤷ eijirou kirishima x reader

⤷ friends to lovers, kiri implied to be taller than reader, inspired the song “look after you” by the fray

compassion is second nature to eijirou kirishima. he’s always willing to lend a helping hand, no protest and no questions asked. 

he’s the ‘bro’ friend, the big-brother of the group standing over you all like a shield. they don’t call him the sturdy hero for nothing. 

he’s saved your life plenty of times, common in your line of work. but most often the things kirishima saves you from aren’t as big as falling buildings or supervillains. 

he always carries an extra hoodie for you in case you get cold. he makes sure everyone drinks water on the weekend group hikes. he always, always offers to share his snacks and insists even when you refuse. 

he texts you to make sure you got home safe, even when he’s the one who drove or walked you. 

for god’s sake, this is the man that sprinted two blocks to a corner store to buy tweezers when you got a splinter one time a few years ago. 

you wonder sometimes how a heart as big as his even fits in his broad chest. 

every other weekend bakugou insists on dragging everyone out for a hike because he can’t catch up with you all over dinner like a normal person and needs to do something active. 

today’s hike had taken longer than you’d originally thought. bakugou got a little too ambitious with his destination, and then mina and denki had wandered off the trail, and then sero twisted his ankle chasing after them. 

it’s nighttime now, and everyone’s been dropped off. you’re the last stop, sitting in the passenger seat of eijirou’s car and wondering how long you can linger without it being weird. 

you sigh after a long moment of sitting in peaceful silence with the faint radio music, finally moving to get out of the car. 

“night, kiri,” you say in the voice of someone who really doesn’t want to say goodnight. 

he moves when you move, clambering out of the drivers seat with a little smile. “i’ll walk you up.”

you stop, meeting his big crimson eyes. “it’s a ten foot walk to the door.”

“yeah.”

“you could just watch me from here, y’know?”

he shrugs, coming around to your side of the car. “‘s no big deal.”

you can feel the warmth coming off his body from when he’s standing next to you. you’re staring up at him curiously, and he blinks down at you. 

“i can see your breath,” he chuckles, taking his scarf off and wrapping it around you loosely while you stand there, stunned. his hands linger on the fabric, warm on your shoulders as he beams down at you. 

“eiji, don’t you ever get tired of looking after everyone?” you ask after a minute, walking up to the door at his side. 

kirishima hums thoughtfully, thinking on it for a second. “i mean, maybe sometimes i guess? but not really, ‘cause i look after the people i care about. so it’s not really work for me, y’know?”

“but don’t you ever want someone to look after you?” you’re at the door now, but you don’t want to go inside just yet. 

“you do,” he replies with a little smile, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

you blink, stunned by the revelation.

“you always check up on me. text me good morning and good night. make sure i rest when i’ve been working too hard. carpool front seat so i don’t have to drive alone in the night.” he’s ticking them off on his fingers, an indescribable fondness in his voice. “and besides,” he adds cheerfully, “seeing you happy always has me feeling brand-new.”

you stare up at him with big, soft eyes. “kirishima, i love you.”

he laughs bashfully, scratching at his neck. “yeah, man, i love you too.”

“no, eiji, like i love you.”

he looks at you, meeting your loving gaze. his cheeks darken, and he looks almost nervous. “you…you do?”

you don’t dignify him with a spoken answer. you try to put any words you might’ve strung together into the kiss you pull him in for, clutching at his jacket to bring him down. 

he almost gasps into your mouth, but after a moment he’s cradling your face in big, careful hands like you’re the most precious thing he’s ever held. 

he’s grinning when you pull away, eyes like melting rubies. “i love you, too. but i think maybe you knew that already.”

dividers by @/saradika-graphics and @/anitalenia — one hug from kirishima could fix all my problems. no further comments.

[inumkii]

mha boys working at a bakery

included: bakugou, kirishima, denki, shouto, and a little dabi feature

okay this prompt except its not awwww cute baker au! inspired by my old job, it was a bit miserable but i try to look back on it fondly

bakugou’s one of the bakers, almost always opening at 6am. there's a rare occasion where you're scheduled to open with only him and he's there early, prepping the dough with faint classical music playing in the background. opening shifts with him (and shifts in general) can be quite nice because he tends to mind his own business while you cover the counter, but you have walked in to him yelling at denki for leaving the scones in the oven for too long. i would say he’s pretty quiet when he bakes as long as no one else gets in his way. feel free to talk about whatever as he bakes because for you, he’ll silently listen. for anyone else, he’s complaining that they’re distracting him- unless! two people are talking mad shit or gossiping on the clock, he’s secretly listening in.

saturday morning opening shifts are your favorite because the two baker and two counter combo is almost always bakugo, kirishima, mina, and you. the reason why you put up with the miserable opening hours is because kiri and mina loveeeee to gossip about everything they’ve learned throughout the week between your coworkers and bakugou chimes in with additional information that no one else knew. you guys are surprised every time but he just shrugs it off.

kirishima is a sweetheart who does all the tasks that you don’t want to do. ask him to cover mopping tonight? done. need the stack of 50 sheet trays carried to the back? he’s taking care of it. he’s normally baking in the morning but he’ll close from time to time and you always know you’ll be out early when you see his name on the schedule.

denki takes closing shifts more often because he likes to call dibs on the pastries that didn't sell that day. he works at the counter more than baking,,, we all know why.. but he insists he can do either!! for everyone’s sake, especially the customers, you stick him behind the register.

i do think large group orders freak denki out so you have to stand next to him and help him ring them up every time. you really can't tell if he's pretending for the sake of having you by his side or if he genuinely can’t do it. (its a bit of both)

you guys have a closing checklist where you have to sign your name next to every cleanup task after completion but you and denki both hate doing the same things. so he’ll be a pain in the ass and sign his name prematurely on random tasks so you’ll get stuck on mopping duty. sorry. this is getting self indulgent but your personal favorite task is to take the chalk board advertisement for the bakery back inside at the end of the day. after a 7 hour shift, its a nice thirty second walk outside. somehow denki finds out that you love that task so he starts beating you to it. its gotten to a point where someone will innocently ask if anyone's taken in the sign for the night and there's a split second where you guys look at each other before immediately racing out the front door to see who can get to it first.

shouto is a gentleman!!!!!! he’s always there in the daytime, takes the 9-4 shifts mostly. hired as a baker but he took the counter once and he really charmed those old ladies popping in for their morning muffin so he’s kinda been defaulted to the front. you’ve been guilty at handing the phone to him when a wholesale order has gotten too confusing and he’ll kindly take over. he’s become the face the regulars see the most when they walk in due to the nature of his shift times.

you mostly catch shouto for an hour or two when you work closing shifts, coming in around 2. some nights, by the time you realize you need to take out the trash, its already dark outside. the dumpster walk isn’t necessarily far, but its not pleasant nor does it feel very safe. but when you go to check the trash, you realize shouto silently took them out before he got off his shift a few hours ago so you didn’t have to walk out in the dark. he’s never scheduled closing shifts, but if someone needs it covered + he sees that you're the other closer, he’s quick to offer. walks you back to your car too.

there’s a coffee shop in the same shopping complex that your bakery is friendly with. by the end of the night, any leftover pastries get put into a ziplock and handed over to them in exchange for a free coffee. the mysterious barista who’s name tag reads ‘dabi’ is always the one to thank you for bringing over the treats and making your latte. he knows exactly what you're gonna get every time he sees you walking up to the front of the cafe. he sends you off every night with a wink and your coffee in hand

(you aren’t aware that dabi is related to shouto at all. its never been brought up and they're mostly on different shift schedules. so when shouto hears about your closing night exchanges, he starts shifting his schedule just so he can accompany you. and to keep an eye on his brother to make sure he’s not going to pull anything funny.)

-

additional all might as my boss: early morning opening shifts are your worst enemy just because you cannottt be bothered to wake up earlier than noon, so when you do, you come in having just woken up ten minutes before. your boss catches you one morning and stops you for a ten minute rant about how you should be more confident with your bare face! and makeup is a social construct, so feel beautiful with yourself!! and you think its sweet but you didnt even notice how you weren’t even wearing the usual makeup look. thanks greg. i guess. he means well.

[00valentina-writes00]

Hi, I would like you to do one of Ambessa x pregnant female reader and when she is giving birth to male twins And how ambessa helps female readers feed their children (breast milk) By the way, I really like your content ☺️☺️☺️

✞⛧ A Love Born from Strength ✞⛧

Warnings: Contains themes of pregnancy, childbirth, pretend women can get each other preggo, ambessa breastfeeding, you breastfeeding

The heavy air in the birthing chamber was filled with the sharp scent of herbal oils, a faint scent of lavender, and the quiet murmur of voices. It was a stark contrast to the intensity of the moment, where the weight of your breaths pressed against your chest, your body trembling with exhaustion, and your pulse thrumming in your veins. The room was dim, the light of a single candle flickering softly against the stone walls.

Ambessa stood at your side, her hands steady on your shoulders, her presence unshakable. Her usual commanding demeanor had softened into something infinitely more vulnerable as she looked down at you. Her golden eyes never left yours, her brows furrowed with concern, but there was something else—something fierce. Her protective nature was out in full force, and it made you feel both safe and overwhelmed at once.

“You’re doing so well,” Ambessa murmured, her voice low, almost a whisper as she crouched beside you. Her calloused hands held yours, steady and strong, while her other hand brushed a strand of sweat-slicked hair from your forehead. “Just breathe, my love. You’re almost there.”

You nodded, gasping for breath between contractions. The pain, while excruciating, was strangely comforting in its own way—it meant you were close. The twins, your sons, were on the cusp of entering the world.

Another contraction gripped you, and you squeezed Ambessa’s hand tightly, a cry escaping your lips. She didn’t flinch; she simply held you through it, whispering words of encouragement and love.

“Breathe with me. You’re strong, just like I knew you were. Just a little longer.”

You pushed, a loud cry escaping your throat, and within moments, the first twin was born—his small, wailing cry cutting through the tension in the room. Ambessa, her breath catching, watched in awe as the midwife placed the tiny, squirming form into her arms.

A wave of relief washed over you, but it was short-lived as another sharp pain gripped you. “One more, my love,” Ambessa murmured, pressing her forehead to yours as you clenched your teeth through another push.

With one last, desperate cry, your second son was born, his wails filling the room and echoing in your chest. You let out a long breath, relief flooding you. Ambessa’s hands were on you immediately, her warm touch grounding you as she gently held the second twin against her chest.

Both twins were perfect—healthy, tiny, and full of life. Ambessa kissed your forehead with a reverence that melted your heart, her voice thick with pride. “We did it. They’re here.”

As the midwife took care of the necessary clean-up, Ambessa remained by your side, her gaze flicking between you and the babies. Her eyes softened as she looked at the two tiny forms in her arms—your sons, the product of your love. The fierce, no-nonsense general who had commanded armies now looked like a mother in the most vulnerable way. Her love for you, for them, was palpable.

One of the twins, the first-born, was passed into your arms, the soft weight of him settling against your chest. His small hands gripped your fingers instinctively as he let out a little cry. Ambessa sat beside you on the bed, her arms gently cradling the other twin, her gaze never leaving you.

“I’ll help you,” she said quietly, her voice laced with tenderness as she placed the second twin in your lap, making sure you were comfortable. “You’ve been through so much, let me take care of one.”

With gentle hands, Ambessa guided the second twin toward her breast, her eyes warm with love as the baby latched on. You watched in awe as she effortlessly fed the first of your sons, her strong and capable hands holding the baby close to her chest.

“Let me know if you need anything, love,” Ambessa said, her voice steady, as she gently brushed your hair back from your face. “We’re in this together.”

You nodded, feeling a sense of peace wash over you as you began to nurse your own son. His tiny mouth pressed eagerly to your breast, and for a brief moment, everything else faded away. You and Ambessa, both mothers now, were united in this quiet, tender moment.

Ambessa’s gaze never left you as you fed the second baby. The connection between the two of you was undeniable—your twins were part of both of you. She shifted to adjust herself as she continued to feed her son, her large, muscular frame looking somehow soft in that moment. There was something deeply intimate about seeing her care for him with such dedication, such tenderness. Her usual stoic demeanor was replaced with one of adoration. Every touch, every brush of her fingers, was deliberate, filled with love.

“You’re so perfect, my son,” Ambessa whispered, her voice soft as she looked down at the baby in her arms, her lips brushing his forehead. The sight of her so vulnerable, so full of love, made your heart swell.

The two of you continued like that for some time, nursing your children, keeping them close. Ambessa adjusted her position to make herself more comfortable, and you could see the slight exhaustion in her eyes, though it was mixed with pride.

“I never thought I would see this day,” Ambessa said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve seen many battles, led many people, but this… this is different.”

Her words touched something deep inside of you, and you reached out to hold her hand, pressing your lips to her knuckles. “I never thought I’d be here, either,” you replied, your voice thick with emotion. “But we’re here. Together.”

Ambessa squeezed your hand, her grip strong but gentle. “Together,” she echoed, her voice low and steady.

The room was quiet except for the soft, rhythmic sounds of your children suckling. You couldn’t help but smile as you watched Ambessa—usually the picture of strength—so tender and protective as she cared for her sons.

The next few days passed in a blur of diaper changes, late-night feedings, and quiet moments. Ambessa was there for every part of it, her strong hands always supporting you. She was an anchor, steady and reliable, always ready to lend a hand when you needed it.

As the weeks went on, you both found your rhythm—Ambessa feeding one twin while you took care of the other. You had never felt so connected, so in sync with each other. Your bond, already strong, had deepened in a way that only parenthood could bring. Watching Ambessa care for your sons, holding them close to her chest, her protective nature on full display, made you fall even more deeply in love with her.

She always made sure you had everything you needed. She would bring you water, food, and blankets, and she’d often whisper sweet words of encouragement in your ear when things got tough.

“You’re doing an incredible job,” she would say, her voice rich with pride. “They’re growing strong because of you.”

There were moments when you would simply watch her interact with the twins, her hands gentle as she cradled them, her voice soothing as she rocked them to sleep. You marveled at how she, the fierce warrior, was so tender and caring when it came to your children. The thought that you had made these beautiful lives together made your heart swell with love.

As the twins grew older, the bond between the three of you only strengthened. Ambessa, always the protector, was fiercely devoted to her sons, and you felt the same sense of protectiveness. Your love for each other had created life, and that life was the most precious thing in the world.

[earlysunshines]

secret rhymes - 39. victorian child (half-written)

a/n: fun fact i have been sick for the past WEEK. my voice has been so so so raspy and dead and i literally sound like im gonna die and or smoked thirty packs of cigs AND im also coughing like a bitch. yeah. ik a bowl of congee HATES to see me coming (I made a whole pot... i finished that pot in less than two days...)

hanni shuffles a bit and groans, stirring weakly beneath the covers. you’re worried that the rag in her forehead might slip off, so you hold it in place as she groggily blinks.

“what…” she nearly croaks. “i’m gonna be… late…”

“han, it’s okay. the rest of your group talked to the managers and called me here. i’ll take care of you for now, okay?”

“hyein?” hanni questions, pulling her blanket closer.

“…close?” you nearly chuckle.

“yunjin is that—“ hanni finally opens her eyes fully, taking in the sight of you—half amused and half worried—staring down at her. her eyes widen slightly. “y-y/n? what are you—“

“you’re burning up. you have a really high fever, one-o-one.” you sigh, looking at her with pity. “everyone was worried sick.”

“one hundred one degrees? how is that even possible—“

“—fahrenheit. you're not dead yet, don't worry.”

her face is already flushed from her fever, but when she fully registers you—the slight scrunch of worry in your brow, your hair cutely clipped behind your ears, and the loose koala graphic t-shirt you have on—her face is even more flushed under the cloth.

she can barely react, too exhausted and feverish to do anything more than stare and breath. she closes her eyes then, defeated, and sinks deeper into the bed.

meanwhile, you sit beside her, adjusting the cool compress on her forehead that slipped off while she had woken up. her skin is burning up, her breathing slow and heavy, and the way she barely stirs at your touch only makes your concern deepen.

the rest of her members had left her in your care, all of them thanking you like you had saved their lives.

("you're the best, seriously." minji says as she hugs you tight, pulling away and patting you on your shoulder. "I wasn't sure what we would've done... this album is really important and especially the song we have to record today."

"it's nothing." you say casually. "i feel bad that hanni can't go and record with you guys, but i feel even worse because she seems pretty unwell."

hyein gives you one last big hug, and then the rest of the group joins in to trap you. you giggle and hug them back, surprised and amused by the gratitude of the situation.

"i'm sorry for calling you so suddenly, you seemed really tired." hyein mumbles.

when she called you at nine in the morning (five minutes after you had to fight to wake up) you were more than just tired. an unknown caller id called you three times, the same amount of times it took you to respond with slight annoyance until you heard the familiar voice and realized it was hyein calling.

"it's fine." you respond, because after figuring out that you had to wake up for hanni, it was more than fine. "I'll take good care of her, thank you for trusting me with her and also with... uh, being in your dorm."

danielle shakes her head, then smiles. "after hearing about hanni talk about you so much and meeting you in person; you're very much welcome in our dorm anytime."

you smile even wider at that comment before ushering everyone out. "okay, go, go. i know how recording's can be, and how the schedules are, so go. i don't want you guys to get in trouble or anything." you urge. before they leave, they make sure to give you all their contact information to give and receive updates.)

you glance at your phone to see no messages from any of them, then back at hanni, watching as her lips part slightly with a soft breath. you sigh, adjusting the blanket so it sits over her shoulder before shifting to sit on the floor beside her bed, your back against the frame. it's quiet, other than the faint hum of the heater, occasional rustle of the sheets, and soft groans as she shifts slightly in her fevered sleep.

every few minutes you reach up to check the cloth, replacing it with a freshly dampened one and alternating between the two cloths four times. you don't mind waiting—watching over her like this, making sure she's okay.

and even though hanni is barely conscious, barely functional to form a thought through her exhaustion, she notices the way you linger and the feeling of the temperature on her forehead changing here and there. she notices every quiet action showing that you care.

—

a little over thirty minutes pass and you switch the rag on hanni's forehead one last time, brushing a few stray strands of hair from her damp skin before standing up. she barely moves, lost in her sleep, but you hesitate for a second before deciding to head out to the kitchen.

"i'll be back, han." you say softly, placing your hand on her shoulder.

the dorm is quiet, save for the occasional hum of the city outside. you roll up your sleeves as you get to the kitchen and unpack your tote bag, taking out each ingredient carefully. you begin chopping ginger, mushrooms, garlic, and pre-cooked chicken—staples for the congee you're making. the sound of the knife against the cutting board fills the space as you work, focused yet extremely mindful of who's resting in the other room.

fifteen more minutes pass and you've already started boiling the rice with your chopped ingredients. you're nearly done as is. suddenly, you hear soft, unsteady footsteps and turn, catching hanni in your sight as she emerges out from the hall.

she's wrapped in a crewneck and blanket draped over her shoulders, her eyes still heavy with exhaustion. she blinks at you, sluggish and dazed, before speaking tiredly,

"y/n, you… why are you... here?"

you immediately lower the heat and rush over to hanni, your hands hovering uncertainly between steadying her shoulders or guiding her back to bed.

she tilts her head slightly, looking at you through half-lidded eyes.

"you didn't answer me." hanni mumbles, giving in and leaning against you to support herself. "how did you even... get here?"

"you're going to pass out, you should've stayed in your room." you sigh, guiding her toward the couch gently. "hyein called me. she said you were sick, and I was worried." you adjust the blanket around her as she settles into the cushions, still looking up at you with something unreadable in her expression. "I came as soon as she called."

"but—"

"no." you interrupt, kneeling in front of her to get her comfy. "I only have a few online things for a class, so don't worry. i basically have a free day, why not spend it on you? just focus on getting better, han."

hanni doesn't argue. she just watches as you stand and return to the kitchen, resuming your work.

the warm scent of whatever it is that you're cooking fills the air while you season further. hanni pulls the blanket tighter around herself, gaze locked onto your back as you move. the way you check on her between stirring the pot, the way your brows knit while adding a few more mushrooms—it's like you were made to do this, to care and be attentive to even the smallest things.

something tugs at hanni's heart.

once the congee is finished, you ladle some into a bowl, letting the steam rise before setting it on the counter to cool. you run to hanni's room to grab the bowl with damp rags and return to her side, setting it on the coffee table as you sit next to her. you place the rag on her head against and she lets out a small sigh at the cool relief, her eyes barely open as she looks at you.

"the food is still hot," you murmur, reaching out instinctively. your hand finds its way to her cheek, brushing against her heated skin as you check her temperature.

hanni leans into your touch. it's barely a movement—soft, fleeting, and she probably isn't aware of it either—but you feel it like a spark. the warmth of her skin lingers against your palm longer than it should and your thumb brushes against her on its own. you swallow, but she doesn't seem to notice, too tired to register the weight of the moment.

you drop your hand after a second and she turns her head slightly on the couch, still watching you through drowsy eyes.

"thank you," she mumbles. "really... you didn't.. have to.. have to do all this."

you shake your head, leaning back slightly and meeting her with the same look she has in her eyes. "it's nothing."

"no, but i mean it," she insists, her voice barely above a whisper. "you took..." she breathes in slowly, sinking deeper into her blanket before continuing, "time out of your day just to come all the way here—to take care of me."

you let out a small laugh, shrugging. "well, you're a friend I care a lot about."

hanni blinks, something unreadable flickering in her tired eyes before she lets out a quiet hum. "i— thank you. I'm glad we're... friends."

you don't know how to respond to that. the way she says it feels like there's something more beneath the surface, but she's also terribly sick so you could just be overthinking everything. before you can dwell on it further, hanni shifts, resting her head against the couch.

"lucky me." she says softly, already halfway to sleep.

you exhale, watching as her breathing starts to even and her blinking get slower. "right," you start, "you have to eat something. i think it should be cooled." you look away from her, breaking the tension filled with something uncertain but not unwelcome.

hanni watches you grab the bowl and sit up, scooping a small bite and blowing on it a few times before holding the spoon towards her. she hesitates before finally parting her lips, eating without a complaint despite being sluggish.

"good?" you ask quietly.

she nods, chewing slowly. "mhm. you're a good cook."

"i know," you tease, earning a weak chuckle from her.

you bring up another spoonful, but before she takes it, you notice a bit of rice stuck at the corner of her lips. without thinking, you reach forward, brushing it away with your thumb.

hanni stills. her eyes flick up to yours, surprised, but she doesn't pull back. neither do you.

"you're being extra nice today," hanni mutters, voice tinged with something unreadable.

you huff a small laugh, reaching for a cup of warm water. "you're sick, hanni. what kind of person would I be if I wasn't?"

she lets you tilt her chin up slightly even when it earns a weird turn in her stomach. she also lets you assist her in sipping the water, wiping away at the drop that rolls down to her chin.

"i, uh, um. there was this, um, time." you start nervously, trying to break the dreadful tension in the air. "my friend back in new york, he... he got sick and his parents were away. i had to take care of him like this. so don't worry about... me taking care of you. it's nothing. i just want you to be okay hanni."

"you're lovely, y/n." hanni sounds and looks drunk with a mix of just completely tired. it's almost amusing how cute she looks.

for the next hour you sit beside her and finish some assignments on your laptop. every so often you glance her way, checking her temperature and switching out the rags. hanni doesn't say much, just watches you everytime she wakes up, eyes flickering between your hands on the keyboard and the quiet concentration on your face.

"i feel a lot better now," she finally says, breaking the silence and halting your typing.

you glance at her and smile. "yeah?"

she hums in confirmation, her eyes fluttering closed as sleep starts to take over.

hanni motions for you to scoot over, and if this were any of your other friends you'd tell them to back off because of their sickness—with hanni, you shift closer. and then she leans on you a bit, the weight of her head pushing against your arm. you don't say anything else, just watch as she drifts off, her features relaxed, her breathing soft and even.

she looks peaceful—so pretty even while she's overheating and feverish.

carefully—without moving your arm—you reach for the rag again, switching it out for a colder one. you do it over and over, making sure she's comfortable. even though the room is quiet, and even though she's asleep; you don't feel alone.

if anything, you feel closer than before. your heart can't decide if it likes the feeling or not.

masterlist ; previous - next

taglist ! @namojoon @ly-gushka @layonaiguess @artrizzler19 @yerimbrit @sixflame438 @nwjnsloona @saysirhc @nimnia @somedaydream @trovao-penguins @modanisgf @c-yerim @starstruckgoateepuppy @tzuyusdoughnut @kaypanaq @peranoo @haerinkisser @electronicluminarycoffee @yoohtonyy @secretcessy @keiji-jin @awkwardtoafault @syronns @linnnsworld @inybits @ynwrites

[tarareindeer]

₊✩‧₊Hidden Secrets₊✩‧₊

author's note : guys iam actually tired to add the colors on the story sorry :{

PART 3 : shadows comes to light...

<- previous chapter┊zombie apocalypse & omegaverse ┊

sevika {Alpha} x fem reader {omega} au!: Sevika a survivalist Alpha leading a treehouse community. You were just a wandering Omega with a secret, scraping by in the ruins of a dead world—until she caught you. One stolen backpack and a bottle of heat suppressants later, she made her intentions clear: you weren’t going anywhere. Survival wasn’t enough for her anymore; maybe you were the answer to something bigger.

cw : cursing,blunt behaviour,brainrot,

----------------------------------------------------------------

yall very creative asf :}

The next day, you found yourself knee-deep in chores, helping Vander rinse everyone’s crusty apocalypse fits by the pond. The icy water had your fingers feeling like popsicles, but honestly? The repetitive motion kinda hit like a lo-fi beat to study to. Vander, ever the MVP of manual labor, kept the convo rolling with talk about crop rotations and how he’s tryna turn the garden into the next big thing. You hummed along, scrubbing at a shirt like your life depended on it, which… lowkey, it kinda did in this zombie mess.

Once the clothes were hung out to dry (RIP to that one sock the wind stole), you slid into phase two: becoming a part-time farmer. Vander had you out there planting veggies and fruits like it was Stardew Valley IRL. Dirt under your nails? Check. Sunburned nose? Double check. But you couldn’t even be mad about it working alongside Vander was weirdly grounding, like you were actually contributing instead of just surviving.

Later, you caught Claggor and Mylo posted up nearby, cracking jokes and roasting each other like they didn’t have a care in the world. Powder and Ekko, though? Total radio silence. Wiping the sweat off your forehead, you spotted Vi doing her best Cool Action Hero routine by sharpening a blade near the tool shed.

“Yo, Vi,” you called out, brushing some dirt off your hands like it was a flex. “Seen Powder and Ekko?”

Vi glanced up, giving you that trademark ‘don’t involve me in this’ look. “Dunno,” she said with a shrug so casual it deserved its own reality show. “Last I saw, they were heading up to their rooms in the treehouse. Probably cooking up some chaotic masterpiece.”

Taking the hint, you grabbed the laundry basket full of fresh-dried clothes and started your delivery route like an unpaid mail carrier. Shirts, pants, socks the whole apocalypse drip found their rightful owners. When you hit Powder’s door, you gave it a polite knock. Nada. Not even a “go away.” Guess she was vibing elsewhere. So, onto Ekko’s room you went.

But as soon as your knuckles hit the wood, you froze. Faint noises leaked out soft, rhythmic, and unmistakably suspicious. A low groan, a stifled gasp… yeah, they weren’t exactly building IKEA furniture in there. OH. They were getting freaky on a sunny Monday morning. Your brain screeched to a halt, blue-screening harder than your grandma’s Wi-Fi. Before you could reboot, the realization hit like a semi-truck with zero brakes. Heat flooded your cheeks as you straight-up launched the basket onto the ground and moonwalked outta there like you’d just stumbled into a adult website. Nope. Absolutely not. Not today, Satan.

Shaking off the cringe, your brain immediately locked onto a bigger problem: your heat cycle, and the only one who knew you were an omega was Sevika. No way were you facing this without backup. Time to call in the cavalry.

Marching to Sevika’s room, you found her deep in her Einstein era, laying out some high-key complicated blueprints to none other than Silco. He had the whole “I’ve masterminded 50 ways to wreck your day before my morning coffee” ahh aura going on. Silco just stood there, cool as hell, while Sevika leaned over the table, her bionic arm catching the light as she pointed out details like she was teaching Advanced Scheming 101.

“Hey,” Sevika greeted, glancing up as you stepped inside. Her expression softened just a smidge, enough to make you feel like you weren’t intruding. “This is Silco, head honcho around here. Silco, meet our newbie.”

Silco’s eyes swept over you, calculating but not unfriendly. “A pleasure,” he said, his voice as smooth as a jazz saxophone.

“Likewise,” you managed, trying not to look like you’d just walked into a boss battle unarmed.

Sevika straightened up, arms crossed like she’d already won whatever argument they’d been having. “Oh, and by the way? She’s an omega.” She dropped the bomb like it was no big deal, leaving your stomach to do a whole gymnastics routine. Silco didn’t even blink, just nodded like he was filing the info away for later.

Clearing your throat, you focused on Sevika. “Uh, actually, I came to ask about heat suppressants,” you mumbled, your voice doing its best impression of a whisper.

Sevika’s brows furrowed in that ‘protective big sister’ way that lowkey made you feel safe. “You cutting it close?” she asked, already digging through a drawer like she had a whole pharmacy in there.sevika hands you a small bottle of pills and you took it.

You nodded, letting out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. Silco watched the exchange in silence, his gaze lingering on you for a beat longer before he turned back to the blueprints. Apparently, the apocalypse came with its own version of office politics, and you were smack in the middle of it.

The blueprints Silco and Sevika are studying give off serious "post-apocalypse Pinterest goals" energy. The designs show the current treehouse and its surroundings, with detailed plans for fortified walls to keep out zombies and other threats. Silco, in his usual deadpan tone, explains the importance of building these walls to stabilize and secure the area. Another part of the blueprint outlines plans for Treehouse 2.0, which Sevika says is already underway. They’ve planted a genetically modified mega-tree seed designed to grow rapidly and support additional treehouse structures. Silco emphasizes how this expansion is essential for housing more survivors as they’re rescued. The whole setup feels like hope drawn on paper a real shot at creating a stable future in a chaotic world.

Later, you're on chicken coop duty with Vander near the edge of the treehouse field, hammering nails into planks and tying up loose wire to keep the future chickens safe. Vander’s mid-swing with his hammer when he pauses, his brow furrowing like he’s caught a whiff of something off. His survival-honed instincts basically scream, Yo, Omega alert. He doesn’t say a word, but you can feel his gaze linger, like he’s piecing together a puzzle he didn’t know he had. Meanwhile, you’re in full-on denial mode, hammering a nail like it owes you money, acting like absolutely nothing is happening.

After escaping laundry duty, you link up with Vi and Caitlyn for a snack run or, well, hunting, but snack run sounds cooler. The forest is all crunchy leaves and aesthetic vibes until chaos inevitably finds you. A fat turkey busts out of a bush like it’s in a horror movie, followed by a boar that’s built like a linebacker. Its beady little eyes lock onto you like you insulted its mom, and boom Caitlyn, being the absolute hitler she is, literally pushes you off a truck. it’s chasing you. You’re screaming, full-on track star mode, dodging trees like this is Mario Kart Caitlyn snorts and starts to laugh while watching you getting chase by the boar.

"Oh, hell no!" you yell, sprinting like your life depends on it because, uh, it does. She’s out here using you as live bait like it’s the Hunger Games. "Cait, you unhinged menace!" you yell, narrowly dodging a tusk that looks way too sharp for comfort.

Meanwhile, Vi’s in her own world, 100% unbothered. She’s in some abandoned barn, beefing with a squawking turkey that’s clearly seen better days. Smug as hell, she stuffs the bird into a cage Vander rigged up for chicken nuggets and future omelets. “Gotcha, you squawking idiot,” she mutters, slamming the cage shut like it’s her greatest achievement.

Back in the chaos, Caitlyn finally decides to help after milking the entertainment value, of course. She casually lines up her rifle and drops the boar with one clean shot. You stop running, panting like a dog in a heatwave, and glare daggers at her. "Really? You just had to use me as bait?" you huff, hands on your hips. Caitlyn just smirks like the chaotic evil she is, zero regrets in sight.

You’re mid-rant about Caitlyn’s betrayal when a tiny, pitiful whimper cuts. You turn to see a scrappy little pup curled up in the barn hay, staring at you with the saddest baby eyes. Boar drama? Forgotten. You kneel, doing your best "snow white" impression, and the little dude cautiously wags its tail as it shuffles over. It’s all ribs and fluff, but it’s wagging, so that’s a win.

“Looks like we’ve got a new recruit,” Vi says, grinning as she shoulders the cage with the turkey. Caitlyn rolls her eyes but can’t hide the small smile tugging at her lips. You scoop up the pup, holding it close as it nuzzles into your chest, and for a moment, the world doesn’t feel so grim. Meanwhile, Vi’s rummaging through the house near the barn, and out of nowhere, she bursts out laughing like she’s found a treasure chest.

Later that day, after finishing up the never-ending list of chores, something gnaws at you the suppressants Sevika gave you. It’s been eating at your brain like a parasite. Why does she even have them? There are no other Omegas in this treehouse sanctuary, so why keep a stash? Stockpiling just in case an Omega drops out of the sky? Sounds sus.

With that question sitting heavy in your mind, you make your way back to your shared room. Sevika’s just stepping in, her usual brooding, resting-bitch-energy filling the space after whatever the hell she and Silco had been scheming. You waste no time, arms crossed like you’re about to interrogate a suspect. “Sevika, why do you even have suppressants? Ain’t no other Omegas here.”

Sevika pauses mid-step, She thinks for a long-ass moment, like she’s debating whether to tell you the truth or just grunt at you and move on. Finally, with a deep sigh, she leans against the desk, arms crossed, like she’s bracing herself for your reaction. "Because Silco’s an Omega."

You blink. Hard. “Huh?”

Sevika smirks at your dumbfounded expression but continues, “Before all this before the outbreak, before the treehouse became a sanctuary Silco was carrying me. In his belly.”

Your jaw? On the floor. Brain? blank. “Hold up. Silco. The guy with the permanent ‘I hate everything’ face? The guy who acts like he was forged in the fires of pure spite?”

Sevika snorts but nods. “Yeah. He doesn’t talk about it. Never mentions my other parent, either.” Her voice is even, but there’s something in her expression something closed off, something guarded, like she’s used to people prying but never really knowing the full picture.

Your head is spinning, but Sevika keeps going, nodding toward the walls like the history is painted right onto the wooden panels. "This place this tree it was his favorite spot as a kid. Vander, Benzo, and Felicia used to play here before the world went to shit. Now, it’s a haven. A second chance. A place where people can survive without being hunted."

You try to form a coherent thought, but all you can do is imagine Silco grumpy, scowling, warlord Silco waddling around with a baby bump. The mental image is so cursed your brain immediately rejects it. “Okay, but like... how? How did that even work?”

Sevika shrugs. “Dunno. Don’t care. Not asking him. You wanna dig into that trauma, be my guest.”

Your brain is still buffering, trying to load all this new information, but one thing stands out above all the lore dump you just received. “So, uh, why are you even telling me this?”

Sevika tilts her head, her gaze locking onto yours like she’s measuring your reaction. Then she shrugs, completely casual, like she didn’t just drop a nuclear bomb on your perception of reality. “Because I actually like you.”

Oh. Ooooooooooh.

Your heart does a whole-ass gymnastics routine, flipping and twisting like it’s trying to qualify for the Olympics. Your throat goes dry. You suddenly forget how to function. Sevika just watches you, a smug little glint in her eye like she knows exactly what she just did to you.

Game over. You’re done for.

You wandered into Vander’s hideout, a dimly lit room with the lingering scent of aged whiskey and wood polish. Even with the chaos of the zombie apocalypse outside, he still clung to his old hobby bartending. The soft clink of glass echoed as he mixed a drink, though it was more for the ritual than necessity. Alcohol wasn’t exactly a survival priority, but in a world where everything was falling apart, maybe a bit of nostalgia was worth it. Vander was nothing if not a creature of habit, and if slinging drinks kept him sane, who were you to judge?

Leaning against the makeshift bar, you watched as he poured a deep amber liquid into a chipped glass. He moved with ease, like he’d done this a thousand times before because he had. "Didn’t think you’d still be slinging drinks at the end of the world, old man."

Vander chuckled, shaking his head. "Old habits die hard, kid. Besides, people need something normal. Ain’t much left of the world, but a good drink and a bad story still do the trick."

You hummed, swirling a random glass of water in your hand, weighing your next words before finally going for it. "So... what’s Silco’s deal?"

Vander paused mid-pour, a knowing smirk tugging at his lips. "Knew you’d start wonderin’ eventually. Especially since you’re... well, you know."

You frowned. "What?"

He raised a brow, leaning onto the bar. "Omega."

Your face instantly warmed, and you nearly choked on your spit. "Excuse me?!"

Vander just laughed, deep and rough. "Relax, kid. Ain’t a bad thing. Just means iam pickin’ up on something familiar, even if you don’t realize it."

You crossed your arms, determined not to combust on the spot. "So? What about Silco?"

Vander exhaled sharply through his nose, his expression turning more serious. "Silco’s always been... different. Timid, back in the day. Shy around people. Didn’t have much of a backbone until life forced one on him. When he was in his twenties, he got caught in the wrong place, wrong time some bastards harassed him in the dark streets. He got out of it alive, but... well, that’s how Sevika happened. He carried her. Nine months of hell, scared outta his mind, but he did it. And then the world went to shit."

Your stomach twisted. "Oh."

"Yeah," Vander muttered, setting his drink down with a dull thud. "That ancient tree house out there? Only place he ever felt peace. So when the world turned to hell, he built the safe zone here. Me, Benzo, Felicia, Connol... We were the first. Worked ‘til our hands bled, but it was worth it."

You nodded slowly, sensing the shift in his voice. "And the others?"

Vander sighed, rubbing a hand down his face. "Felicia and Connol went out hunting once. First time. Didn’t come back. We found their bodies later. Powder and Vi were just kids. Broke Silco in ways none of us could fix. But he kept going. Had to."

You looked down at the counter, tracing a long crack in the wood with your fingertip. "I’m sorry."

"Don’t be. It’s just how things are now." Vander’s voice was gruff but not unkind. He jerked his chin toward the next room. "As for Benzo... that fatass is around the corner, fixing up some mechanic junk."

You let out a small snort at his casual tone, but the weight of his words settled heavy on your shoulders. Silco had been through hell, and despite it all, he’d built a haven to keep people alive. He’d been a scared, pregnant Omega once, carrying a kid in a world that already wanted him dead. And yet, here he was, running the strongest safe zone you’d ever seen.

It was around late afternoon when you finally spotted Powder and Ekko strolling by, their usual vibe filling the air. You leaned against the doorframe, pretending to be chill even though your mind was buzzing.

“Yo, Powder, Ekko!” you called out, giving them a lazy wave.

Ekko gave you a side-eye, but Powder grinned like she just hit a jackpot. “What’s good?” she chirped, hands on her hips.

You shrugged, trying to seem casual. “So, quick question. Has Sevika, like, ever, I dunno, messed with people’s heads for fun? Not saying she’s some kind of mind reader, but you know… just screws around for the drama?”

Ekko's brows furrowed. Powder cocked her head, a smirk tugging at the corner of her lips.

“Wait, you asking about Sevika?” Ekko raised an eyebrow. “You sure you wanna go down that road?”

You waved it off, but there was a hint of curiosity behind your eyes. “I mean, yeah. I even asked Vander about it before I bounced from his room.”

Powder laughed, clearly entertained. “Asked Vander? Oh, that’s cute. What’d he say? ‘Don’t worry about Sevika, she’s just a bit chaotic, no biggie?’”

“Nah, he just said she doesn’t really mess with people unless they deserve it. But I dunno, I’m wondering if she, like, confessed anything to me lately. It felt off, like she was playing some game or something. You think she could be, I don’t know, messing with my head?”

Ekko snorted. “Sevika? Oh, she’s definitely the type to play mind games, but she won’t hit you with any meaningful stuff. She’ll twist words, mess with you a little, but she never says anything that really sticks, you feel me?”

Powder shrugged. “Yeah, she’s all about the chaos. But don’t get too caught up in whatever she’s throwing your way. She likes to stir the pot, but never tells the truth unless she’s forced to. So, like, keep your guard up.”

“Got it,” you said, pushing off from the doorframe. “Just... thought maybe I was trippin’.”

Ekko gave a little chuckle. “Nah, you’re not trippin’, just don’t get played, alright?”

You nodded, the knot in your stomach tightening. Something felt off, but you weren’t sure if you were just overthinking it or if Sevika was really pulling strings from the shadows. Either way, you were gonna find out soon enough.

As you watched them walk off, the thought stuck in your mind: you definitely needed to keep your guard up around Sevika. She didn’t do things for no reason and she sure as hell didn’t care if you got hurt in the process.So she will just tickle your pussy for a while and move on?

---------------------------------------------------------------

{silco-omega} {benzo-beta}

[wakasaswifee]

write pls an one shot where isagi wins a match and reader suck him in the locker room

Winner's prize | Isagi yoichi | 18+

✎...In where your boyfriend Isagi Yoichi wins a game and can't help but want a little bit of... appreciation from you. ✎...Isagi yoichi x reader | blue lock ✎...Tags/TWS: Explicit content,All characters aged up, oral ✎...WC:1.3k ✎...A/N: I'm so sorry to anon, this was sitting in my inbox for over a month, I had exams so I was busy with that and had no time to write other than a few short stories here and there. hope you like it!

Isagi yoichi knew he’d win. He felt it, he knew the winning goal would go to his team and he’d be the one scoring it; and what more, his sweet, precious girlfriend came all the way from home to support him, screaming his name. So he had no choice but to win, he couldn’t disappoint his girl. 

°。 ���༺♱༻⋆。 °

The game had ended, after a few interviews here and there; you ran up to yoichi, wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him into a soft kiss. The salty smell of sweat mixed with his cologne invaded your nose, which you don’t know why but you loved it. 

“Ahh, doll, ‘m sweaty, don’t cling” he chuckled playfully. A blush crept up your face as the flashes of the camera’s went off. 

Isagi couldn’t help but laugh at your expression, kissing your cheek.

“It’s okay. Ignore them.” 

Running his calloused hand through his soft hair, keeping a protective arm around your waist. 

“Let’s go, y/n. Let me shower and change and i’ll come and we’ll eat out to celebrate, yeah? Sound good?” 

You grinned, nodding up at him. 

You were confused as he started walking off the field, pulling you along with him.

“Yoichi?” 

“Doll, ‘m not gonna leave you out here all alone, wait outside the change room, it’ll make it easier to make sure no one tries anything” 

He wasn’t trying to be an asshole but due to previous incidents, he liked keeping you close to him, to make sure no crazy fan attacks you when he isn’t present. 

You looked up at him, he looked.. Ethereal, especially after his games. Sweat glistened on his face and neck. His hair damp and pushed back, a few loose strands hanging over his face. If one were to define perfection, they’d see a picture of isagi’s side profile- no scratch that, they’d see a picture of isagi’s face beside it. 

“I’ll be out in 10 minutes, wait here, okay?” He kissed you softly. 

You sat on the wooden bench outside the change rooms. Pulling out your phone to watch edits of your otherworldly boyfriend.

°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °

You were confused, again. It’d been over 25 minutes, at first you thought maybe he was talking with his teammates or maybe taking a minute or 2 for himself but after you saw his teammates leave one after another, till the change rooms were empty, you were left puzzled. 

Slightly pushing the door open, just a peek to see inside. It was empty. You carefully opened the door and stepped inside as if there’s a landmine in the area. 

The door clicked behind you; looking around, the room was empty. 

You took slow, careful steps, till the faint noise of water running and.. skin slapping? 

You made your way towards the sound, turning the corner to find isagi's back facing you, water dripped down his sculpted back and shoulders.

His hand was clenched into a fist against the wall, veins straining beneath his skin, while his other hand moved at an even pace between his thighs. 

Your breath caught in your throat making your mouth go dry, heat rushing to your core. 

“‘Ichi..?” the soft hush of your voice snapped Yoichi out of his trance. Turning his head to find his poor confused girlfriend standing by the entrance of the shower. 

“Ah.. fuck, doll.. M’ sorry, i totally fo-”

“Why are you.. Doing.. That?” 

He sighed, letting go of his needy cock to turn off the shower. He neared you, the light taps of his footsteps against the wet tiles echoed. You took a few steps back, an unknown feeling of excitement coursed through your body. You’d never seen isagi like this. Such a chilling look plastered on his face. Did you say something you shouldn’t have? 

He closed the distance between the both of you. Subconsciously you tilted your head to look him eye to eye. 

“‘Is cause of you, doll.. You don’t know what you do to me.” he placed a hand on your shoulder, the cold water sending chills down your spine. His hair falling over his eyes, drops of water falling from them, hitting his abs. Something burned inside of you and you wanted to chase it. 

“And.. since you started this.. It’s quite convenient you came in here because now you can finish what you started and I also deserve a reward for winning the game for you, don’t i? ” The cruel grin you knew all too well made an appearance and before you knew it, your knees hit the ground making you wince. Looking up to see isagi’s fat, leaking cock hanging in your face like a taunting bait. 

I mean.. He’s right, isn’t he? He won the game for his sweet little girlfriend, so he should get something in return from you, right?

You looked up at him through your lashes before sticking out your tongue, licking the underside of his cock as precum dripped down it and landed on your tongue. Yoichi hissed at the pleasure of something other than his hand coming in contact with his cock. 

He put his hand through your hair, tugging at the back of it. 

“C’mon, no teasing, baby” he whined as if he didn't have the upperhand and could choke you with his cock whenever he wanted.

You rolled your eyes, licking the tip. Keeping your tongue out as you took him in, hollowing out your cheeks. Every inch you took in was another groan out of isagi, till it hit the back of your throat, making you gag, earning a loud moan out of your bf. Warm tears pricked your eyes - in contrast to his cold skin - isagi tried calming you down with sweet words. 

“Oh, baby, look at you, you’re doing so well. My cock is balls deep down your throat. I'm so proud of you, yeah? Show me how good you are by actually sucking it. You’re doing so so good, doll” 

He coos, a familiar gentleness lacing his tone. 

You slowly pulled back and went back down. His balls touching your chin. Slowly picking up the pace, the faster you bobbed your head on his veiny shaft, the more verbal he got. His hands tugging at the very roots of your hair. 

Every time you were about to pull away due to the lack of oxygen, he would push your head back down, harsher than the last. Tears rolled down your face and dripped down onto your thighs. 

The slick mess in your lace panties distracted you from the task at hand. You squirmed feeling discomfort but not being able to go anywhere else but his cock. 

The constant abuse to the roof of your mouth and the back of your throat persisted,  as isagi used your pretty mouth as a fleshlight. Your jaw going numb and precum coated your lips, keeping them soft enough to glide across his length. 

At some point, you stopped doing the work, only holding onto his thighs, letting him play with you. Using your hair to control your movements. Every once in a while when you look up, you’d see him throwing his head back, groaning and grunting your name or smirking at your pathetic expression. 

It wasn’t long before he came, holding your head down so you had no choice but to get a mouthful of his cum. The mixture of saliva and cum dripped down your chin. 

“Swallow, baby” isagi’s breathy voice reached you, swallowing up the salty white liquid. When isagi felt your throat clench around his tip, he finally pulled out, letting you gasp in the air you desperately needed. 

“Sorry sweetheart.. I might’ve kinda gotten carried away..”

“Kinda?” you grumbled in a hoarse voice, getting a laugh out of isagi, he pulled you up to your feet, 

“Forgive me?” he mumbled against your ear, wrapping his arms around your body. 

©2025 wakasaswifee do not copy

[jigglethemballs]

Edging König for a week

You randomly mentioned it to konig one evening.

“So you think you could last being edged for a week?”

“Pff, of course! Do you know all the things i’ve seen and been through? Edging wouldn’t even be a challenge for me”

warning: edging, sub konig, soft dom reader, chubby/fat reader, denial, public masturbation, dramatic description of everything, unprotected penetration, unchecked for spelling mistakes don’t come for me

Day 1

You were seated on his lap on the couch. The tv being long forgotten, it’s only purpose now playing some faint background noise.

You’re now making out with konig and already feeling a bit fuzzy.

Your tongues are softly rubbing against each other, yours and his saliva becoming one as you both breathe heavy.

“My love aren’t i meant to be edged?” He asks when you break the kiss and target his sensitive neck.

“You are yes and this is part of it”

You suck on a specific area on his neck making his hips jolt up, applying pressure on both your covered private parts.

“König! Stay still” You scold him not expecting your needy pussy to be stimulated so suddenly.

“Can’t help it love” He smirks.

You quickly decide to get rid of his annoying smirk by humping down on him. Your pussy perfectly aligned on his stiffness.

“Fuck” He hisses, smirk now completely gone.

And that’s all you need to continue. You pick up the pace, making you both groan in pleasure. The pressure on your clit making your eyes roll.

König head is rolled back enjoying the feeling of you humping on him.

“Just like that, doing so well” He mumbles softly.

You’re both panting and konig starts to get louder. His groans turn into soft whimpers and his eyes are glued to your clothed parts rubbing on each other.

“Love i don’t think i’ll last” He whimpers ready to cum in his pants for you but before he realizes, the oh so delicious building pressure is gone.

He quickly looks up at you, confused and dazed.

“Good luck lasting the entire week” And you get off of him.

He looks at you wide eyed, desperate for more. The wet patch on his sweatpants of where his tip is indicating his precum leaked everywhere.

Day 2

He couldn’t sleep. Not with you laying besides him. He wonders how he’s supposed to last the entire week like that. Maybe he underestimated it all but it’s only the second day no way he can give up now or even admit it.

Youre getting ready for a night out with your girlfriends to celebrate one of their birthdays. König is laying on the bed while you try on some clothes to show him. You come out of the walk in closet with a dress showing all your pretty curves he loves so much.

“Does it look good?” You ask while looking at yourself in the mirror

He walks up to you and stands behind you grabbing your body from behind.

“You look delicious my love” He spins you around and tries to kiss you before you stop him.

“My makeup! You’ll ruin it” You protest and get out of his grasp.

You eventually go out and come back home around 1am. Your feet and head are throbbing and the only thing you want is to get in bed and sleep.

You enter your shared room and your precious man is stroking himself.

“Can you give me hand please” He says not even surprised you caught him.

“I’m sure you can take care of it yourself” You reply back and lean against the doorframe

His hands falters a bit but he just keeps going. He rubs his oozing tip and maintains eye contact with you.

“Don’t you want to help your desperate man?” He asks between groans

“You’re a big boy aren’t you?” You say back earning a whimper from him.

He starts stroking himself at a faster pace. His eyes never looking away from you. To tease him you slowly strip out of your dress. That has an effect on him as he whimpers louder.

“Love, touch me please” He pleads, honestly he looks great like this, a bit of sweat coating his forehead, his hand going up and down his precum coated dick.

You don’t reply but get on the bed. Laying your head on his thigh close to his stroking hand.

“Ah, ah i’m close” He says, eyes closing on their own

“Don’t you dare” you say firmly and he halts his movements

Panting he plops down on the bed and you caress his thigh.

Day 3

He’s already at his limit. How is it possible that his dick and balls have been throbbing nonstop since yesterday?

He wakes up hard, walks around hard. All he can think about is cumming. His mind flooded with the thought of being inside you and spilling his warm seeds.

You’re currently making dinner, you’ve seen a recipe you wanted to try and have been cooking away for an hour now.

König is desperate but he can’t admit defeat yet. His ego far too big. He walks up to you in the kitchen and immediately he’s twitching. The sight of you so domestic. Wearing a cute apron around your soft body clinging to your stomach.

He walks up behind you pressing himself to your behind.

You feel his hand on against you and decide to let him be. Noticing you don’t react to his presence he starts humping your ass.

It turns you on how desperate he seems to be. One arm around you he holds your shoulders and pants in your ear.

“Let me fuck you please, i need to feel her around me”

You just lift up your skirt exposing your soaked and naked pussy. He looks down at your naked body and removes his pants at the speed of light. Before he can do anything you stop him.

“You only get to fuck my thighs, understood?”

He groans dissatisfied but still listens. He guides his tip between your soft thighs pressed against each other, softly wetted by your slick running down

“Fucking hell” He moans and fucks your thighs at a quick pace.

“Baby let me fuck you properly, you’re being edged too here aren’t you? Let me pleasure her she’s so wet” He moans out in your ear.

As tempting as it all sounds you don’t give in.

His movements start to get more aggressive but also sloppy. His voice a pitch higher and you know that means he’s close.

“König don’t cum!” You warm him reminding him he has to stay on edge. Not long after he slips himself out of your pudgy thighs letting out a disappointed groan.

Day 4

He wakes up in the middle of the night sweaty and hard. All he can think about is your warmth enveloping his dick.

You’re sound asleep next to him and it takes everything inside of him not to wake you up. He grabs his dick and starts pumping it while looking at you.

A few pumps won’t matter right?

He’s staring at your pretty lips he’s used to have around him, your body he hasn’t properly grabbed in god knows how long, your beautiful tits he can stay between for days.

He gets closer to you and starts sniffing you. He doesn’t know why or what he’s trying to smell but he just wants more of you.

His lust filled mind can’t think straight now. He’s trying his best to stay quiet but his mouth isn’t obeying his orders.

Quickly he’s close to the edge. He doesn’t want to disappoint you but he’s also so desperate for that sweet release.

But as the good desperate boyfriend he is he slowly comes to a halt and stays up all night, dick reaching for the ceiling.

Day 5

Today you were both away busy taking care of your personal schedules.

His body is on autopilot, no external information is processed by his brain. Once again all he can think about is your hands and body all over him. He wants to taste you, touch you, fuck you. He’s losing his mind for real.

His phone buzzes while he’s having a conversation with someone about whatever, he doesn’t even know himself. And he nearly cums in his pants looking at the content of your message.

It’s a picture of your pussy, well not really. You’re wearing panties but the evident wet spot on them nearly makes him pass out.

You add a text.

“Go to a bathroom, fuck yourself for five minutes to this”

And he obeys right away. Rudely excuses himself from the conversation and almost trips into the empty bathroom.

His pants are down in a heartbeat and he’s stroking himself. The pretty outline of your pussy in the image making it hard for him to not spill right away. He looks at the time, only one minute went by and he’s already so close.

He slows down his movements. He can practically taste and smell you through the screen. He remembers all the times he’s been between those juicy legs lapping at your folds. He’s hungy, he’s thirsty, he needs you NOW.

And once again before he cums he stops and exactly 5 minutes have passed.

Day 6

Only one more day, only one more day, only one more day, only one more day.

His body is reacting to everything you do. If you’re just talking, hes foaming at the mouth looking at all the shapes your mouth makes. If youre walking around the place, hes admiring the movement of your hips and all the jiggle of your body.

He’s losing his fucking mind.

Today you want to get him to admit it’s difficult. So for that you bring out the big guns. Them being your mouth and hand.

You pushed him against the wall after what started as a few innocent kisses. His dick already forming a prominent dent in his pants.

“Please i need you so bad” He whimpers. You are so happy he’s so desperate and needy it’s such a good look on him you’re thinking about going for longer next time.

But right now you pull down his pants and grab him. He hisses between his teeth and his knees already want to give in.

You look up at him before giving a small lick at his tip.

“Fuck! I’m close” He moans grabbing your face.

You only smirk at him before fully taking in his dick. The warmth of your mouth nearly makes him die. He’s never had his senses enhanced so much. He’s floating on a cloud.

You slowly suck him off. His moans are stuck in his throat all he does is thrust forward into your throat.

His eyes are closed but you are sure they are rolled back as far as possible.

His dick and balls start to throb indicators of how close he is. And you let go with a pop.

He doesn’t even react. His body weak, his mind blank. All he does is stay put trying to control his breathing. And remembers he gets to cum tomorrow.

Day 7

Today is the day. He made it.

Currently you’re making out in your bed. He’s touching you, hungrily.

His body is so weak though, the entire week took a toll on him but still he wants this to be great because you basically edged yourself for as long as he did too.

“Let me taste you yeah?” He whimpers between kisses. And he leaves a trail of kisses down you body until your bare cunt.

She’s so pretty and delicious, he missed her so much.

He dives in not giving you any time to adjust to the pleasures. He sucks on your clit getting all sorts of moans and groans out of you.

He humps his dick into the bed, precum leaking so much it looks like he came already.

One finger of his rubs your entrance making you spread your legs even wider. He starts finger fucking you. His lips still sucking at your clit, you’re seeing stars.

“König fuck!” You moan his name and hump his face.

Suddenly you pull him up.

“Put it in, now” You order him and he gladly obeys.

“I won’t last” He enters your warm and wet folds.

His ears buzz, the world around him disappears. It’s just him and you. The pleasure he feels is otherworldly. And just like that, he cums.

He shoots ropes of cum inside of you, coating your delicate walls white. His body is shaking and his moans are loud.

He collapses on top of you.

You rub his back and give him many kisses all over his face.

He is spent.

“Never again” He says still inside of you.

“I was thinking about doing it for two weeks next time?” You say and he looks at you with horror.

[cozmowrites]

Would You Fall in Love with Me Again?

Would You Fall in Love with Me Again? - Epic: The Musical

-----

The city lights twinkled like dying stars, their faint glow reflecting in the puddles on the cracked pavement. Katsuki leaned against the balcony railing, hands gripping the cold metal as if it could anchor him. Below, the streets buzzed with life, but it all felt distant-a hum in the background of his restless thoughts.

He'd messed up.

You were inside, curled up on the couch, flipping through an old photo album. He hadn't meant to look over your shoulder, but when he caught sight of the picture, he froze. It was the two of you, younger, happier-before his stubborn pride had driven a wedge between you.

"Do you remember this?" You had asked, your voice soft, almost hesitant.

He did. The memory hit him like a sucker punch: the day at the fair, where he'd won you that ridiculous stuffed bear you still kept. You had laughed so much that day, bright and carefree. He hadn't seen that side of you in so long.

He hadn't seen it because he hadn't been looking.

Now, as the chill bit at his skin, Katsuki closed his eyes and let his head fall forward. He was good at fighting, good at protecting, good at winning. But love? Love was something he couldn't fight his way through. He couldn't yell it into submission or blast his way to a solution. He'd been reckless with you, taking your love for granted until it started to slip through his fingers.

The sliding door creaked open behind him. He turned to see you step out, wrapping your arms around yourself to ward off the cold. The soft glow of the apartment framed you, and for a moment, he couldn't breathe.

"What are you doing out here?" You asked, tilting your head.

He shrugged, his voice rough. "Needed some air."

You nodded, leaning against the railing beside him. For a while, neither of you spoke, the silence filled only by the distant noise of traffic and city life.

"I've been thinking," you began, your voice barely above a whisper. "About... us."

His stomach twisted. "Yeah?"

You glanced at him, and he saw the uncertainty in your eyes. "Do you think we can get back to where we were? Before everything got... hard?"

Katsuki stared at you, the weight of your words pressing down on him. Could you? Could he be the person you deserved after all the times he'd let you down? He wanted to promise you the world, but he knew better than to make empty declarations.

Instead, he reached out, hesitating for a moment before his calloused hand found yours. His grip was firm, grounding, as if he feared you might drift away if he let go.

"I don't know if we can go back," he admitted, his voice low and strained. "But... I wanna try. I wanna be better. For you. For us."

You searched his face, and he wondered what you saw. Did you see the boy who'd won you a stuffed bear, who'd walked you home in the rain and held you close when you shivered? Or did you see the man who'd let his temper and ego build walls between you?

"I miss us," you said finally, your voice breaking. "I miss you."

His chest ached, the pain sharp and unrelenting. "I'm still here," he said, squeezing your hand. "I know I've been an idiot. I've hurt you. But... I love you. I never stopped."

Tears glimmered in your eyes, and for a moment, he thought he'd said the wrong thing. But then you smiled-a small, fragile thing that made his heart swell.

"I will fall in love with you.. over and over again. I don't care how, where, or when, you're mine," you said, leaning your head against his shoulder. "But it's going to take time, Katsuki. This... it's not easy."

"I know," he replied, his voice steadier now. "I'll wait. However long it takes, I'll wait."

You closed your eyes, and he felt the warmth of your trust seeping into him. It wasn't a perfect moment, but it was real. For the first time in a long while, Katsuki allowed himself to hope. "Hey, don't tell me you're not the same person. You're always my husband and I'll be waiting.."

[saebyeokbliss]

ONCE MORE TO SEE YOU— PART IX.

synopsis: on a cold january day, you were worrying about the reason your girlfriend wasn’t texting back. when she finally does and asks to meet at your apartment, you’re met with heartbreak as she ends your relationship. no explanation. two years later, you run into her at a cafe with someone new. what are you to do?

warnings: angst, death, swearing, yelling, more stress HAHA

pairing: sae-byeok x fem!reader

The hospital always felt colder than it should. The sterile white walls and the faint smell of antiseptic clung to you like a second skin every time you walked through those doors. It was the kind of place that drained the warmth out of you, leaving only a gnawing sense of dread in its wake.

You hated being there. But you hated what it meant to not be there even more.

When you entered Veda’s room, the rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor greeted you, a sound you had come to associate with her continued survival. She was propped up in the hospital bed, her small frame swallowed by the too-big sheets. Her face was pale, and the bruises from the accident had faded to a sickly yellow, but when her eyes met yours, she gave you a tired smile.

“Hey, Vee,” you said softly, setting your bag down on the chair by the bed.

“Hey,” she whispered, her voice weak but steady.

You pulled up a chair beside her, reaching out to take her hand. Her fingers were cold, and they trembled slightly as she squeezed your hand back. You’d been careful to hide your own exhaustion from her—she didn’t need to know about the sleepless nights, the eviction notice, or the constant weight of your parents’ demands. She had enough to deal with without worrying about you.

“How are you feeling today?” you asked, brushing a few stray strands of hair from her forehead.

“Better,” she said, though the effort it took her to speak made it clear she was lying. “The nurses said I might be able to start walking again soon. Isn’t that good?”

“Yeah,” you said, forcing a smile. “That’s great.”

She studied your face for a moment, her brow furrowing slightly. “You look tired.”

You laughed softly, trying to brush it off. “I’m fine. Just busy, you know? Work, school, all that fun stuff.”

She didn’t look convinced, but she didn’t press you. Instead, she leaned back against the pillows, her gaze drifting to the window. “Do you think I’ll ever get out of here?” she asked quietly.

The question caught you off guard, and for a moment, you didn’t know how to respond. “Of course you will,” you said finally, your voice firm. “You’re going to get better, Vee. I promise.”

She didn’t say anything, but the way her lips curved into a faint smile told you that she wanted to believe you.

The two of you talked for a while, about nothing and everything all at once. You told her about the diner, about your coworkers, about the funny things customers said that made you want to laugh and cry at the same time. She told you about the books she’d been reading, about the nurses who were kind to her, and about the dreams she had of being anywhere but there.

For a little while, it felt almost normal. Like the hospital walls weren’t closing in, and the weight of the world wasn’t pressing down on your shoulders. But then, without warning, everything changed.

“Vee?” you said, noticing how her eyelids started to droop and her grip on your hand loosened. “You okay?”

She didn’t respond.

“Vee,” you said again, your voice rising slightly as panic began to creep in.

Her head lolled to the side, and the faint smile that had been on her lips was gone. The beeping of the heart monitor that had been your constant companion suddenly turned sharp and erratic, the sound cutting through the air like a knife.

“Veda!” you shouted, standing up so fast that the chair toppled over behind you. Her chest wasn’t moving. Her lips were turning blue.

The room dissolved into chaos as alarms blared and nurses rushed in, pushing you back as they surrounded her bed. Someone was shouting something—maybe it was you—but you couldn’t hear it over the deafening roar in your ears.

You watched helplessly as they worked on her, their movements frantic and precise. The minutes stretched on forever, each one more agonizing than the last. And then, just as suddenly as it had started, it stopped.

The heart monitor flatlined, the steady drone filling the room like a death knell. One of the nurses looked up at the clock, her expression grim. “Time of death: 3:47 PM.”

It felt like the ground had been ripped out from under you. Your knees buckled, and you sank to the floor, your breath coming in short, shallow gasps. This wasn’t happening. It couldn’t be happening.

But it was.

Veda was gone.

You didn’t know how long you sat there, numb and shaking, before your parents arrived. The moment your mother stepped into the room, her eyes went straight to you. Her face twisted in grief, but beneath it, there was something else—something sharp and accusatory.

“What happened?” she demanded, her voice trembling. “What did you do?”

You stared at her, your mouth opening and closing as you struggled to find the words. “I—I didn’t—”

“She was fine this morning!” your mother shouted, tears streaming down her face. “She was fine, and now she’s—she’s—” She broke off, sobbing, as your father stepped forward, his expression hard.

“This is your fault,” he said, his voice cold and final. “You should’ve been watching her. You should’ve done something.”

Something inside you snapped.

“My fault?” you said, your voice rising as you stood up, fury coursing through you like wildfire. “You’re blaming me for this? Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Don't curse at your parents! Who else is there to blame?” your father shot back. “You were here! You were supposed to be taking care of her!”

“I have been taking care of her!” you shouted, your hands trembling as you gestured wildly. “I’ve been taking care of everything! While you sit at home doing nothing, I’ve been working myself to death to pay for her medical bills, to keep a roof over your heads, to make sure she had a chance! And now you’re going to stand there and blame me?”

Your mother’s sobs grew louder, but she didn’t say anything. Your father opened his mouth to argue, but you didn’t let him.

“I’ve lost everything because of you!” you yelled, tears streaming down your face. “My house, my money, my future—everything! And for what? So you could sit there and tell me I’m not doing enough? I’ve been breaking myself apart for you, and it’s still not enough, is it? It’s never enough!”

The room fell into stunned silence, the weight of your words hanging heavy in the air. Your chest heaved as you struggled to catch your breath, the anger and grief swirling inside you like a storm.

Your father didn’t respond. He just stared at you, his expression unreadable, while your mother cried into her hands. For the first time in weeks, you didn’t care what they thought. You didn’t care about their guilt trips or their accusations. You were done.

The walk back to your apartment felt endless, each step heavier than the last. The cold night air bit at your skin, but you hardly noticed. Your mind was a storm of emotions—grief, anger, guilt—each one pulling you in a different direction until you felt like you were going to burst. Veda was gone. The words echoed in your head, hollow and cruel. She was gone, and there was nothing you could do to change it.

By the time you reached your building, your legs felt like they might give out beneath you. You climbed the stairs slowly, every breath a struggle, until you reached your door. The eviction notice was gone—it was stuffed in your bag, forgotten for now—but the weight of it still lingered, a constant reminder that tomorrow would be your last day here.

You unlocked the door and stepped inside, the quiet of the apartment almost deafening. The single-room space, small and cluttered as it was, had never felt emptier. The air was cold, stagnant, and you couldn’t bring yourself to turn on the lights. You dropped your bag on the floor and sank into the sofa, burying your face in your hands as the tears finally came.

For a long time, you just sat there, the sobs wracking your body as the events of the day crashed over you like a wave. You cried for Veda, for the life she’d never get to live. You cried for yourself, for the weight you’d been carrying for so long. And you cried for the anger you felt toward your parents, for the guilt that came with it, and for the fact that, deep down, you still wanted to make them proud.

When the tears finally slowed, leaving you hollow and shaking, you dragged yourself to the kitchen to get some water. That’s when you saw it.

An envelope sat on the counter, stark white against the dark surface. Your brow furrowed as you approached it, your heart skipping a beat when you saw your name scrawled on the front in hurried, slanted handwriting. You recognized it instantly.

Sae-byeok.

Your hands trembled as you picked up the envelope, dread and confusion swirling in your chest. You tore it open carefully, your breath catching when you saw the contents.

Money. More money than you’d ever seen in your life.

You dumped the stack of bills onto the counter, your chest tightening as you tried to process what you were seeing. It couldn’t be real—there was no way—but the weight of the cash in your hands told you otherwise. And then, tucked beneath the last stack of bills, you found the note.

“You need it more than me.”

That was all it said. Short, simple, and so Sae-byeok that it made your head spin.

Your emotions swung wildly from confusion to disbelief to anger, the grief you’d been drowning in now replaced by a white-hot rage. You stared at the money, your hands curling into fists as the words of the note burned into your mind.

You didn’t want her pity. You didn’t want this.

Before you could stop yourself, you grabbed the envelope, stuffed the money back inside, and stormed out the door.

The diner was quiet when you arrived, the faint hum of fluorescent lights and the distant clatter of dishes the only sounds. Your heart pounded in your chest as you pushed open the door, your steps quick and purposeful as you made your way to the break room. You didn’t care that your shift wasn’t for hours or that barging in like this was bound to cause a scene. You needed to see her.

Sae-byeok was sitting at the small table in the break room, unbothered as she sipped from a mug of coffee. She looked up when you entered, her expression unreadable as her dark eyes flicked to the envelope in your hand.

“What the hell is this?” you demanded, your voice trembling with anger as you slammed the envelope onto the table.

She didn’t flinch. Instead, she set her mug down and leaned back in her chair, her gaze steady. “What does it look like?”

“It looks like you’re trying to buy me off,” you snapped, your voice rising. “Do you think this fixes anything? Do you think throwing money at me is going to make everything better?”

“It’s not about fixing anything,” she said, her tone calm but firm. “It’s about helping.”

“I don’t need your help!” you shouted, your hands trembling as you gestured wildly. “I don’t need your money, I don’t need your pity, and I sure as hell don’t need you swooping in like some savior to save me from my own damn life!”

Her eyes narrowed slightly, and for the first time, you saw a flicker of anger beneath her calm exterior. “You’re so full of shit,” she said, her voice cold.

Your breath caught in your throat, but she didn’t give you a chance to respond.

“You’re drowning, and you know it,” she continued, her voice rising as she stood up, her chair scraping against the floor. “You’re working yourself to death, losing your home, grieving your sister, and still trying to act like you’ve got it all under control. Well, guess what? You don’t. And there’s nothing wrong with admitting that.”

Her words hit you like a punch to the gut, but she didn’t stop.

“You think I don’t know what it’s like to struggle?” she said, her voice sharp and cutting. “You think I don’t know what it’s like to lose everything, to feel like the world is crushing you under its weight? I’ve been there. I’ve lived that. And I’m still living it.”

Her voice softened slightly, but the intensity in her eyes didn’t waver. “This isn’t about pity. It’s about survival. And whether you want to admit it or not, you need this money more than I do.”

You stared at her, your chest heaving as her words sank in. The anger that had been fueling you began to waver, replaced by something else—something raw and vulnerable that you didn’t want to face.

“I didn’t ask for your help,” you said finally, your voice barely above a whisper.

“No,” she said, her voice quiet but firm. “But you need it.”

The room fell silent, the tension between you thick and suffocating. You didn’t know what to say, your emotions a tangled mess as you stared down at the envelope on the table.

Finally, you shook your head, grabbing the envelope and shoving it back into your bag. “I don’t… I can’t…”

Sae-byeok didn’t respond, her expression unreadable as she watched you turn and leave the break room.

You didn’t stop walking until you were outside, the cold night air biting at your skin as you leaned against the side of the building. Your hands shook as you clutched the strap of your bag, the weight of the money inside pressing down on you like a physical thing.

You hated her for doing this. You hated her for making you feel small and weak and exposed. But more than that, you hated the part of you that was grateful—grateful for the money, for the gesture, for the fact that, even in her cold and unrelenting way, she cared.

For the first time in a long time, you didn’t feel completely alone.

taglist: @monroesturnns@everly-summers-solace@holyshtimgay@knfthxv@delfinadolphin@madebysae@jetaimeeeee@m0rtifiedg0th@katieschry1@erika-mon2-blog@tcvazq not taking anymore taglist additions!! sorry!!

[nor-ay]

Unrequited Love Reader and Pure Vanilla Angst bc I’ve been sad these days. (Not canon to the main story.)

The moon is captivating, you think. How it shines and covers you with its light as if it were the critic and you the performer. You feel like you’re trapped on a stage. And no matter how you try to divert the narrative, someone always finds a way to put you back in your role. And you suppose that you’re not in the wrong. You are in Shadow Milk Cookie’s domain, after all. The need to be comforted fills your heart as a tear falls down and wets your cheek, clinging to your chin.

You smell the faint scent of vanilla before you hear him talk. “[Name] Cookie, oh, I am so sorry to interrupt, but I can’t help but worry about you. You’ve been acting a bit…” 

You’re a bit annoyed, no, scratch that. You’re really pissed off. Your mind can’t comprehend what’s his deal. Pure Vanilla Cookie is someone who cares about his friends and people. He’s kind, empathetic and lovely. But at what point does he help because he really feels like it? Or he just does it out of duty? Is he always genuine? 

“Why are you asking, Pure Vanilla Cookie? What would you do if something was wrong?” He seems surprised by your tone but doesn’t comment on it. It takes him a good minute to answer, calm and firmly. 

“I would do anything in my power, you do know that, right? You are my friend, my old friend, you can count on me.” 

Shaking your head, you smile, but it feels like a grimace. Of course, you knew he was going to say that. He always says the same things, just in different fonts. You know that it shouldn't hurt you; you’re feeling like this because you are allowing it. At least, that is what you think. “That’s so cruel…you can’t say that you’d do anything and then just call me a friend.” 

“Pardon me? [Name] Cookie,” His eyes are open now, and you can’t look at him, so you convince yourself that the floor is more beautiful. “You would do the same, is that right? You told me…” 

“Ugh, let's stop dancing around this topic,” Frustration and anger flares up and helps you ignore the uncomfortable dread in your body. “I told you that because I did not mean it as just a friend. I love you, but right now, I hate you a bit for it.”

You finally look at Pure Vanilla Cookie, and his face is just so pretty that it makes you feel sickly. He’s not looking at you. “I am terribly sorry…but I can’t—“ With furrowed brows and a hoarse voice, he tries to reject you as softly as possible.

“I understand, you don't have to reject me. I was just stating it.” You can’t hear him finish that sentence. Somehow, it feels like if that thought materializes, I’ll turn true. And you so foolishly try to keep some hope for your heart.

“…[Name] Cookie,” For the first time since he found you, he approaches and holds both your hands. “I’m not very good at this. But thank you for telling me. And- we can still be friends If that’s…what you want?” 

You agree and reassure him that nothing will change and that soon this feeling will go away. Bizarrely enough, you think that it may happen sooner than you’d expect.

It’s been a while! As I said, I’ve been struggling a bit these days but I’m better. Please feel free to share your opinion on this fic as long as it’s respectful. And no, this is not canon. In the main story, the reader does not confess to Pure Vanilla. Maybe someday.

[okasuka]

Sharp Edges

(Damian Wayne x Reader)

The Batcave hummed with quiet activity. The faint clicking of keys echoed from the Batcomputer, while the distant drip of water somewhere in the cavern filled the silence between them. Y/N sat on the armrest of one of the rolling chairs, still in her suit, arms crossed as she carefully sharpened one of her claws against the other.

Damian watched her from the other side of the Batcave, pretending to check his weapons. He had spent far too much time trying to figure out how to approach this—how to ask her the question without making himself look like an idiot.

Tt. This shouldn’t be so difficult.

But it was.

Y/N wasn’t like anyone else. She was sharp—literally and figuratively. Closed off, a little intimidating, yet he had spent enough time with her to see the moments when her guard slipped. She wasn’t emotionless, just careful. And that made this all the more complicated.

He exhaled through his nose, squared his shoulders, and walked over to her.

“You free Friday night?” His voice was calm, as if the question were as simple as a mission debrief.

Y/N glanced up at him, raising a brow. “Depends. What for?”

He hesitated for only a second. “Dinner. Just the two of us.”

Her claws stopped scraping together.

She blinked, the usual sharpness in her eyes briefly flickering with something else. Surprise? Hesitation? Interest?

“You mean like… a date?”

“Yes,” he said without missing a beat.

Y/N was silent, gaze searching his face for something—maybe sincerity, maybe a trap. It was hard to tell what she was thinking. Then, after a long pause, she tilted her head slightly.

“You sure you wanna take a girl with adamantium claws on a date?” Her voice was teasing, but there was a quiet layer of something else beneath it.

Damian smirked. “If I was afraid of a few sharp edges, I wouldn’t be interested in you in the first place.”

That earned him a chuckle, soft and fleeting. She shook her head slightly, but the corners of her lips lifted just enough to be noticeable.

“Fine,” she said, sliding her claws back into her knuckles. “Friday night it is.”

Damian felt the corner of his own mouth twitch upward.

“Good.”

And just like that, he turned on his heel and walked away, hiding the way his heartbeat had picked up just a little. Behind him, Y/N shook her head again, watching him go, the ghost of a smirk still on her lips.

Sharp Edges (Part 2)

Y/N watched Damian disappear into the depths of the Batcave, his usual confidence unwavering. The rhythmic click of his boots faded, leaving her sitting there, arms folded, mind racing.

She hadn’t expected that.

Damian Wayne—stubborn, disciplined, pain-in-the-ass Damian—had just asked her out. And he’d done it with the same tone he used when issuing a mission order, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Tt.

She sighed, rolling her shoulders and flexing her hands. The familiar sting of her claws retracting was grounding, but it didn’t stop the warmth creeping up her neck.

She liked him. She’d known that for a while. The way he never hesitated to match her pace, to keep up with her in sparring without treating her like she was fragile. The way he actually listened when she spoke, even when she was short or dismissive. The way he seemed to get her, even when she wasn’t saying much.

Still, she never thought he’d do anything about it.

“You look like you’re thinking too hard,” came a voice from behind her.

She turned her head just enough to see Dick standing there, arms crossed, an annoyingly amused grin on his face.

“Don’t you have somewhere to be, Nightwing?” she muttered, rubbing at the base of her claws absently.

“Nah,” he said, stepping closer. “I do have a little brother who just asked you on a date, though.”

Y/N gave him a deadpan look. “And?”

“And that’s very interesting.”

She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Don’t start.”

“Oh, I’m starting,” Dick said, grinning as he leaned against the Batcomputer. “Didn’t think Damian had it in him. Guy’s been brooding over you for months—and before you say anything, yes, it was obvious.”

Y/N felt her jaw tighten. Had it been obvious? She wasn’t exactly the best at reading emotions. Hell, she barely had a handle on her own half the time. But if Dick had noticed, that meant—

“Tt. You’re irritating.”

Both of them turned to see Damian standing on the upper platform, arms crossed, his usual scowl in place.

Dick smirked. “And you’re grumpy.”

Damian ignored him, stepping down toward Y/N. His gaze flickered over her, assessing, as if expecting her to take back what she’d said.

She rolled her eyes. “Relax, I’m not changing my mind.”

Something in his posture eased, just slightly. “Good.”

Dick let out a whistle. “Damn. You guys really do deserve each other.”

“Leave,” Damian said flatly.

Dick laughed, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright, I’ll stop messing with you. But seriously—Friday night? I need details.”

Damian gave him a warning glare, and Y/N smirked.

“Don’t hold your breath, Grayson.”

Dick groaned dramatically but backed off, heading toward the Batmobile. As soon as he was out of earshot, Y/N glanced back at Damian.

“So,” she said, tilting her head. “You actually have a plan for this, or were you hoping I’d just be impressed by your charm?”

Damian smirked. “I don’t hope for anything.”

She snorted. “Right. So what’s the plan?”

“I’ll pick you up at seven,” he said, turning toward the exit. “Wear something you don’t mind ruining.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “Why do I feel like that’s a threat?”

He didn’t answer. He just walked away with the same confidence he always carried, leaving Y/N sitting there, still trying to process the fact that this was actually happening.

And, if she was being honest?

She didn’t mind it one bit.

Sharp Edges (Part 3)

The ride back to Wayne Manor was quiet.

Damian sat beside her in the Batmobile, driving with his usual precision. Y/N stared out the window, watching the trees blur past, the faint glow of the city behind them fading into the dark Gotham outskirts. Her mind was still spinning from earlier.

A date.

With Damian.

It shouldn’t have been this hard to process, but emotions were never her strong suit. She was built for battle, for survival, for endurance—not for this soft kind of thing.

And yet, her pulse had been erratic ever since he’d asked.

When they finally pulled into the underground garage, Y/N didn’t wait for him to say anything—she just hopped out and headed straight inside. Damian followed, staying just a step behind as they moved through the dimly lit halls of the manor.

Neither of them said goodnight. They never really did.

Y/N retreated to her room, stripping off her gear, setting her weapons aside, and throwing herself onto the ridiculously soft bed Alfred had insisted she use.

She closed her eyes.

And yet, minutes passed. Then an hour.

Her body refused to rest.

Her mind wouldn’t shut up.

With a frustrated sigh, she pushed the covers off and sat up, running a hand down her face. Maybe a walk would help. Maybe sneaking outside and beating up some street thugs would clear her head. Maybe—

Her feet were already moving before she could think it through.

She stopped outside his door before she could second-guess it.

For a moment, she just stood there, fingers hovering near the handle. She knew he was awake—his heartbeat was steady but not slow enough for sleep. She could hear his breathing through the door, calm and controlled.

It was stupid.

She should turn around.

She—

Screw it.

She knocked once and opened the door without waiting for a response.

Damian was sitting on his bed, dressed in a simple black t-shirt and sweats, reading by the dim glow of a bedside lamp. He barely looked surprised to see her.

“Can’t sleep?” he asked, setting his book down.

Y/N huffed, stepping inside and shutting the door behind her. “Tried. Didn’t work.”

Damian studied her for a moment before gesturing toward the empty space on his bed.

She hesitated. Then, before she could psych herself out, she crossed the room and sat down beside him, leaning back against the headboard.

The silence stretched, comfortable but weighted.

Then, without looking at him, she muttered, “I like you.”

She felt him tense slightly beside her.

It took him less than a second to school himself, but she felt it.

Y/N exhaled through her nose. “I like you,” she repeated, slower this time, staring down at her hands. “I just… I don’t really know how to do this.”

Damian was silent. Not in a bad way—more like he was actually listening.

She flexed her fingers, eyes tracing the faint scars on her hands. “I wasn’t made for this. Affection. Relationships. The whole… feelings thing.” She shook her head. “I don’t even know if I’m saying this right, but I just… I needed you to know.”

A beat of silence.

Then—

“You are saying it right.”

She turned her head, meeting his gaze.

His expression was unreadable, but his eyes—those sharp, green eyes—were softer than she’d ever seen them.

“I’ve known you long enough to understand how hard that was for you,” he continued, voice quieter than usual. “And I don’t take that lightly.”

Her throat felt tight. She wasn’t used to this. Vulnerability. Being seen so clearly.

And yet, somehow, Damian made it feel… bearable.

She let out a slow breath. “So…”

“So,” he echoed, smirking just slightly. “Will you be staying?”

She gave him a look. “Obviously.”

Damian let out a short breath—something almost like a chuckle. Then, as if it was the most natural thing in the world, he shifted, moving his arm so she could lean into him.

Y/N hesitated for only a moment before she let herself relax against him, resting her head on his shoulder.

His warmth was steady. Grounding.

For once, she didn’t mind.

And for the first time that night, she actually felt like she might sleep.

Sharp Edges (Part 4)

Y/N woke up to the distinct feeling of being watched.

Her senses stirred before her eyes even opened, instincts screaming at her to move, to fight, to—

“Are you two comfortable?”

Her eyes snapped open.

Bruce Wayne stood in the doorway, arms crossed, expression unreadable except for the slightest quirk of amusement at the corner of his mouth.

It took Y/N approximately two seconds to register the situation—warmth at her side, the steady rise and fall of someone’s breathing, the fact that she was definitely still curled up against Damian.

Shit.

Damian was still asleep, his head slightly tilted toward hers, one arm loosely draped over her waist.

Y/N stiffened. Her brain scrambled for a response, but Bruce just raised an eyebrow.

“I must say, this is not what I expected to find when I came to check if you two were back from patrol.” His voice was calm, but way too amused for her liking.

Y/N scowled, her face heating up as she sat up slightly, careful not to jolt Damian awake. “It’s not what it looks like.”

Bruce’s eyebrow climbed higher. “So you didn’t sneak into my son’s room in the middle of the night and fall asleep cuddling him?”

Y/N opened her mouth. Shut it. Scowled harder. “That’s not—ugh.”

As if on cue, Damian stirred beside her, his breathing shifting. Then, with a slow exhale, he opened his eyes.

It took him less than a second to process the situation.

His gaze flickered to Y/N, then to Bruce, then back to Y/N. He didn’t stiffen, didn’t flinch—just exhaled through his nose and said, deadpan, “Father.”

Bruce hummed. “Glad to see you’re awake, Damian. Perhaps next time, you can warn me before bringing a guest to bed?”

Y/N groaned, shoving Damian’s shoulder. “Say something.”

Damian, ever composed, just sat up and rolled his shoulders. “I see no reason to justify anything to him.”

Bruce smirked. “Oh, you don’t have to. I just thought it was interesting.”

Damian narrowed his eyes. “You’re insufferable.”

Bruce shrugged. “I am a father. It’s my job.”

Y/N huffed, rubbing her temples. “Can we not do this at…” She glanced at the clock. “Six in the damn morning?”

Bruce sighed theatrically. “Fine, fine. I’ll leave you two lovebirds alone.”

Y/N threw a pillow at him. He caught it effortlessly, smirking as he turned to leave. “Breakfast in thirty. Don’t be late.”

The door shut behind him.

Silence.

Then—

“I hate him,” Damian muttered.

Y/N groaned, flopping back onto the bed. “I told you to say something.”

“I did.”

“Not helpfully.”

Damian just smirked. “At least now we don’t have to hide it.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t fight the small smile tugging at her lips. “Tt. Whatever, lovebird.”

Damian scowled. “You’re never letting that go, are you?”

“Nope.”

She smirked.

And, even though she wouldn’t say it out loud—

Maybe this whole feelings thing wasn’t so bad after all.

Sharp Edges (Part 5)

The training room in Wayne Manor was filled with the rhythmic sounds of fists meeting flesh, boots skidding against the mat, and steady, controlled breathing.

Y/N and Damian moved in sync, exchanging blows with lethal precision. She ducked under one of his kicks, using her momentum to sweep his legs, but he caught himself mid-fall, flipping back onto his feet effortlessly.

They’d been sparring for nearly an hour, neither willing to give the other an opening.

“Tired yet, beloved?” Damian smirked, wiping a bit of sweat from his brow.

Y/N scoffed. “Not even close.”

She lunged, her fist aimed for his ribs. He deflected it, twisting her arm slightly, but she used the motion to spin and land a kick to his shoulder.

It was the kind of fight that could go on for hours.

Which, unfortunately, meant they had an audience.

“Wow,” Dick’s voice rang out from the sidelines. “So much romantic tension.”

Y/N groaned. Damian just rolled his eyes.

“Leave,” Damian said flatly, still blocking Y/N’s attacks without looking at his brother.

“Oh, I should leave? But you two are being so entertaining.” Dick grinned, leaning against the rail. “I mean, the flirting, the intense eye contact—it’s like something out of a soap opera.”

Y/N threw a punch extra hard just to tune him out. Damian caught it, gripping her wrist tightly before twisting to flip her over his shoulder—

But in the split second before he could complete the motion, Dick nudged him forward.

It was a small push, barely noticeable.

But it was enough.

Damian’s balance shifted, and instead of throwing Y/N, he fell—right on top of her.

They hit the mat with a loud thud, Y/N’s back slamming against the padded floor, Damian’s weight pressing into her.

For a moment, there was silence.

Then—

“Well, this is convenient,” Damian said, voice smug as hell.

Y/N blinked, barely processing what had just happened before Damian smirked down at her. His arms were braced on either side of her head, effectively pinning her beneath him.

Dick cackled. “Oh my god.”

Y/N scowled, shoving at Damian’s chest. “Get off.”

Damian did not get off.

Instead, his smirk deepened. “Why? This position seems rather comfortable.”

Y/N’s face heated up. “Damian—”

Dick lost it.

“Oh, this is amazing.” He doubled over laughing, hands on his knees. “You guys are like a rom-com in real time.”

Damian, ever the opportunist, lowered his head slightly, bringing his lips just close enough to Y/N’s ear to murmur, “If you wanted me on top of you, beloved, you could’ve just asked.”

Y/N shoved him hard this time, flipping them over so she was the one pinning him.

He looked far too pleased with himself.

“You’re the worst,” she muttered, glaring down at him.

His smirk remained. “And yet, you like me.”

She scowled. “Not for long.”

“Lies.”

Dick, still laughing, clapped his hands. “Alright, alright, I gotta give it to you, Dames—smooth move. But, uh…” He pointed toward the doorway. “You might wanna dial it back, because Bruce is watching.”

Both Y/N and Damian turned their heads toward the entrance—

Where Bruce stood, arms crossed, looking deeply unimpressed.

“Really?” he said, his tone the exact same one he used when scolding them for reckless behavior on patrol.

Y/N groaned, dropping her head onto Damian’s chest. “I hate this family.”

Damian, still grinning, just wrapped his arms around her back and murmured, “Too bad, beloved. You’re stuck with us.”

Sharp Edges (Part 6)

The manor’s library was quiet, the warm glow of the fireplace casting flickering shadows over the towering shelves. It was late—past midnight—but neither Damian nor Y/N had any intention of sleeping.

Damian was perched on one of the couches, a book in hand, while Y/N leaned against the armrest, flipping through an old volume she’d randomly pulled from the shelves.

Or at least, pretending to flip through it.

Because, really, she was more focused on annoying Damian.

“You’re not reading,” he muttered, eyes still on his book.

Y/N smirked, tilting her head toward him. “How do you know?”

Damian didn’t even look up. “You haven’t turned a page in five minutes.”

She rolled her eyes. “Maybe I’m just a slow reader.”

“You don’t read at all.”

Y/N huffed dramatically, tossing the book onto the coffee table. “Fine, you got me. I’m bored.”

Damian sighed, finally glancing at her. “That sounds like a you problem.”

Y/N smirked. “Not for long.”

Before he could react, she nudged him—just enough to make him tip sideways.

He caught himself, of course, always prepared, always balanced.

But then she did it again.

And again.

Until—

“Tt. Do you mind?”

“Nope.”

She leaned in again, this time pressing her hand against his cheek and shoving him lightly.

Damian caught her wrist before she could pull away, raising an eyebrow. “You really are insufferable.”

Y/N grinned. “I try.”

Their faces were too close now. Close enough that the air between them felt charged.

Neither of them moved.

Then—deliberately, teasingly—Damian tilted his head, his lips brushing against her knuckles before he murmured, “Are you going to keep playing, or are you finally going to kiss me?”

Y/N blinked.

Her brain short-circuited for approximately two seconds.

Then, before she could overthink it, she moved, pressing her lips against his in a quick, sudden kiss.

Damian responded immediately, shifting to deepen it, his hand sliding to the back of her neck as he pulled her closer.

The kiss was slow—unrushed, deliberate.

And somehow, it was even better than she’d imagined.

When they finally pulled apart, Damian smirked. “Took you long enough.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, nudging him again just for good measure. “Shut up.”

Damian just grinned, tugging her back toward him. “Make me.”

She did.

[cupidsdescendant]

Hey, may I request a TF2 smut shot where a female reader gets cornered by the enemy BLU Engineer and has the reader hog ties before take advantage of her?

If it isn't your thing you can make it more consensual. :)

hello beautiful! I hope you're doing well, thank you so much for your requests. questioners like you always make my day so i hope your day is lovely. I can gladly do that. <3

BLU! ENGI X Y/N - AZURE DAZE

"Damnit, Engi just tell me what the fuck is wrong!" Y/N yelled out, small voice cracks peppering in her frustration. Her legs followed behind with her flaring arms as she darted to him. "Why are you acting like such a bitch!"

"Nothing is wrong! Now leave me alone." The space crackled with palpable electricity. With each step he took, she followed behind. They were playing cat-and-mouse—something Engi wasn't anticipating.

"No, something is up and I'm not going in circles, for Christ, stop acting like a child."

"Me, a child?"

"Yes! A damn child." She said, barked back. The last thing the man wanted to be referred to was something inferior to him and his intelligence.

Engineer stopped in his tracks and his head spun behind. The clanking of his buckles that wrapped around his uniform stopped jingling and everything fell silent. Like a thunderclap without warning, Y/N was stupefied to see Engineer without his goggles, revealing a look of frustration on his face.

"Ya listen now and ya listen well. I ain't gonna wanna talk to you if you're spewing all over my face. You don't wanna deal with me when I'm at my wits' end, and I reckon you stop this commotion and let me be on my way."

She's never seen him without them. Admittedly, she believed it was glued down to his head, (citing the rumors spread around by RED), but his revealing look of unmistakable frustration spoke otherwise. Standing there with furrowed eyebrows, the intensity of his expression told her that he was not just irritated, but deeply irked by the situation.

"You know what they'd do to you? If they found out the opposing team was screwing around with their teammate?" Her mouth felt dry. Her heart was pulled, tender, and sore from his words. "I don't care," she said sheepishly, her anxious lips forming words Engi didn't dare to say.

"It's not about what they want, Dell. It's about what you want."

"Choose me."

Silence filled the room that had once been filled with anger and hurt, now, a warm feeling of lust pulsed between them. Y/N's hand gently brushed against his chest. She curled her index finger around the strap of his overalls, tugging it playfully before letting it snap back against his chest.

Y/N tilted her head to the side, her nose nearly touching his as she leaned closer. Their lips played with banter, edging one another to make the first move. She closed her eyes and puckered, the heat of Engineer's breath falling onto her.

But nothing came. She opened her eyes to see Engi smiling animalistically. It unnerved her to her core. The mere look of mania triggered her natural instincts, and a rush of anxiety ran its course through her body. His pupils drowned in the whites in his eyes, appearing smaller than usual. An intense grip tightened around both Y/N's forearms. He tugged her down onto the floor and her head slammed down. "Engi-?! What the hell are you doing??" Her mouth being squished into the floor blabbered her protest.

"Gotcha."

In her blurred vision, she saw Engi pull out a 5ml syringe. A gasp escaped her lips and a stinging pinch of the needle was injected into the vein in her neck. He asserted his body onto hers while a stream of the mystery fluids flowed throughout her. She groaned out, unable to form coherent words, and her eyes gave out, fluttering into the abyss of her mind.

Despite the blackout, Y/N's subconscious overheard what occurred. The shuffling of Engi's feet and her body being towed around woke her body from faint slumber. The static of a radio would turn on and off erratically. A low, muddy voice would respond back each time the clicking of the button turned on, Engi following after them. Abruptly, something tight had suffocated her wrists, along with her ankles. It was itchy and the material was hard to determine.

His cold, firm hand snatched her cheeks and she awoke.

She was in the air hogtied together. Her body curled into a "C" shape due to the pressure put on her hands being tied to her ankles. Remnants of her garments were spread on the floor. Faint scratches crept around her chest, running down to her thighs. She dangled, her breast exposed. Though her blurred vision couldn't make out everything, it was clear his goggles were back on.

"The thing is, Y/N, BLU knows. And they'd had given me the task of fetching you back to our base for... let’s just say, the pleasure of the rest of the team." His thumb slid against the disc on the corner of the walkie-talkie, the constant rhythmic clicking continuing. "However, there’s something you should know about me- I don’t like to share." The same masochistic grin was smeared on his face as before. Her body shivered from being exposed to the cold, quickly shaking involuntarily. She tried to scream, but when she did nothing came out. Her focus shifted as she looked down, discovering her lips encircled on a silicon gag, the bottom and top of her lips protruding out forcibly. "Shame on you for thinking I was a fool. Am much smarter than you perceived me as, is'how i got you to follow me here."

Waltzing behind her, a firm grip smack on her ass proceeded to awaken her to the event that was going to unfold. "How about we put that body to work before the team get their fixin's?". Y/N kicked her legs back continuously, dangling from front to back. Beads of sweat were rolling down her chaffed thighs, red from pitiably kicking around for an escape. Muffled cries fled her lips, stifled by the tight gag that silenced her begging. Engineer's fingers rolled her panties to the side, exposing her pussy. Distress filled her gaze as she watched the man unbuckle his belt. Her body trembled, the weight of her anguish undoubtedly upon her.

She anticipated when he'd insert himself, but when the time came, she gave into the man's power. A shudder crawled from her shoulders down to her hips when the tip of his dick penetrated her, his glans gliding against her clit beforehand. Saliva dribbled down from the gag, a sensation of pure ecstasy taking over what once was fear. His hands kept a firm grip, digging the index of his fingers into her hips. The middle and ring fingers of his hand held onto her femur. With each thrust, his stomach hit her ass forcibly.

Erratic moans poured from out of his throat. His hunger finally quenched, and Engineer couldn't help but feel satisfied. *plap plap plap* With each thrust, her vulva became hotter and drenched. The soreness trudged through, cramping tightly on his dick.

"Is that good, peaches?" He spat on her perineum and smeared his saliva from her anus down to her pussy. Their genitals were numbed by the lubricin and precum that mixed throughout. Y/N's eyes rolled back, her pupils touching her cornea and her bottom eye glands twitching. She caved into the situation, her lust for his cock more apparent, even if the situation was immoral.

Her cervix felt like it was going to pop, the tips of her feet coiled back, and the cries she let out became more rapid. "Now hold on there-" He grunted, his southern drawl sounding even more arousing than it did before. A powerful hand roughly grasped Y/N's hair, tugging with a sudden force that sent her wincing at the pain. It flooded her body with a wave of profound eros almost beyond comprehension, her orgasm quickly approaching. He let go, her head recoiling. and reached over in front, viciously rubbing her clit. "Cum."

Y/N's ankles jittered at the sensation, the concrete walls captured their cries, both falling into one another. The quick rhythm of his thrusts became more erratic until they both reached undoubtedly, the strongest orgasm they'd experienced. Y/N let out a muffled yelp through the gag. Her eyes glistened with unshed tears, her tear ducts red and puffy. When the tears did pour down, each one left a trail of glistening moisture on her cheeks.

Engi stopped. Palms drenched in sweat, his hips strung out, pushing deeper in her. He leaned himself back at a 90-degree angle as he sighed. She was filled to the brim, his semen dribbling out of her pussy, unable to squeeze a drop out. The tip of his cock hit the entrance of her pussy before he pulled out.

Engineer looked down and took a deep breath. Before attending to her, he zipped his pants and adjusted his goggles, swallowing a gulp of saliva.

He swiftly fetched a pocket knife from his overall pocket, severed the rope, and firmly caught her before she could crash onto the concrete floor. Y/N's eyelids flapped vigorously, trying to keep herself awake. Her pussy leaked both their cum. A hot sensation radiated through the lower half of her body, accompanied by a deep, persistent ache that made her legs feel heavy. Y/N tilted her head back without thought, her hair cascading like a waterfall into the air. The world around her began to swirl as Engineer hiked her into the bridal position.

He pulled the gag off exposing her mouth, which throbbed from the pressure.

In the daze of her climax, she succumbed to the warmth around her and fell into slumber.

"Lets get ya back to the base..." that familiar smirk creeping up once again.

thank you so much for reading -w-. I worked fairly hard on this one, though I'm not confident with the way i wrote the timeline...more updated in the future! thanks again to @69grandpa69 for the requests <3

[ssho0ta]

Promise | Terry Richmond part 1

Terry Richmond x Black!Fem! Reader

word count: 692 ( she a lil short)

Summary: After the battle in Shelby Springs, Terry finally makes his way back home to you.

The faint sounds of birds outside chirping and your dog Coco lying on the bed next to you, soft snores slowly brought you out of your slumber. You slowly opened your eyes, the brown orbs adjusting, as you turned your body around to look for your phone. 8:45 is what it said once you reached and you slowly sighed realizing that Terry said he would be back now.

It was day 4 of him not being home after he left to venture to a small town to bail his cousin out. At first, you suggested you go with him but he said he preferred for you to stay to watch after Coco. And he promised he would come back home in 2 days. It's been 4 and even though the two of you shared subtle communication you were worried as he kept his status very vague. 

Terry was never the type to lie to you, he was always honest, and whenever he promised you something he always made sure you got it. But you were becoming impatient and scared wondering if you should travel to  Shelby Springs to find him. But one thing Terry always told you was to be patient with him and you trusted him so you decided to wait.

You got out of bed making Coco lift her head from feeling the bed shift. You walk towards your en-suite bathroom to get started with your day. You cut the light on in the bathroom approaching the sink, and grabbing your toothbrush and toothpaste. 

Once you finished brushing your teeth and doing your skin care, you pushed back the shower curtain slightly twisting the mob to turn the shower on. The bathroom started to steam and quickly stripped away your clothing and stepped in.

-

You walked down the steps coco trailing behind you, making your way to the kitchen for breakfast. Dreaming of the cup of coffee and cereal that was about to bless your taste buds.

You made your way down the hallway floorboards creaking underneath the weight of your footsteps.  You made your way to open the back door and let Coco outside to use the bathroom.

You walked more towards the open-concept kitchen and living room that was connected coming into sight. You immediately made your way towards the kitchen area. Opening the top cabinet and grabbing your favorite mug that you brought while forcing Terry to take you on a long target run. You started the coffee pot, steam coming from beneath you and it brewed into your cup. 

You went to open the door back open for Coco and you poured more food and water inside of her bowl. You went back to the coffee pot, grabbed your cup, and opened the fridge to grab your favorite French vanilla creamer. 

Leaning against the counter with the cup in your hands, you looked outside the kitchen window. Terry was still heavy on your mind, his whereabouts still in your head you were concerned about why it took so long to bail out his cousin. Millions of different possible scenarios  flooded 

Your head, but then pulled out of your train of thought by the sound of a truck pulling into your yard.

The car was unfamiliar to you and your hand slowly started to creep to the kitchen drawer where Terry kept a gun for safety. Until the door of the truck opened revealing Terry stepping out, he looked like he had been through hell and back. He was sweaty and looked exhausted. This immediately made you put your mug down and walk outside running towards him.

When he saw you, his world immediately lit up, and he opened his arms for you to jump in them. And you did, wrapping your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck, putting your face there. He also held your hands, caressing your back. 

you peppered his face in kisses and he lightly smiled at the feeling

A/N: Idk if I should do a part two or not let me know😭

[tkdb-hell]

Could I request 42 for Luca please? Thank you for the chance

#42 - Distracting kisses from someone that are meant to stop the other person from finishing their work, and give them kisses instead.

Kisses Prompt List • Kisses Masterlist

(I do my best to write the reader as gender neutral unless otherwise specified - if you send me an ask and prefer masc or fem, please let me know)

♡ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT ♡

The quiet hum of the Frostheim house filled the room as you sat at a desk, papers spread out in front of you. Your fingers tapped absently on the edge of the desk while your mind struggled to focus on the report in front of you. Deadlines loomed, and you couldn’t afford distractions—not that the thought stopped Luca from gently interrupting your work.

“Still at it?” His voice was soft, calm, carrying the faintest hint of amusement. He didn’t seem annoyed by your diligence, more impressed by your determination.

“Yeah,” you murmured without looking up. “This has to be finished by tomorrow.”

There was a brief pause before you felt Lucas step closer, his presence a steady warmth behind you. “You’ve been at this for a while. Maybe you should take a break.”

“I can’t.” You sighed, brushing hair from your face. “I’ll lose my momentum, and then it’ll take twice as long to finish.”

Lucas chuckled lightly, the sound warm and reassuring. “You’re incredibly focused. I admire that.” He leaned in slightly, resting a hand gently on the back of your chair. “But even the most dedicated deserve a little reprieve.”

You felt him move closer, and before you could protest, he pressed a soft kiss to your temple. The contact was brief but enough to make your heart flutter. You tried to ignore the warmth creeping up your neck, returning your attention to the report.

“Luca…” you started, but he didn’t move away, placing another kiss, this time, on your cheek.

“Hmm?” His voice was low, almost teasing, but there was no hint of impatience—just quiet affection. “Just thought you could use some encouragement.”

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t help the faint smile forming on your lips. “Encouragement, huh?”

“Exactly.” He shifted slightly, leaning over your shoulder to glance at the sprawl of papers. “Looks like you’re making good progress. That means you’ve earned a little distraction.”

Before you could respond, he kissed the corner of your mouth, so soft and fleeting that it left you momentarily speechless. He pulled back just enough to meet your eyes, the familiar spark of mischief twinkling in his violet gaze.

“You’re really making it hard to concentrate,” you said, though you were finding it difficult to actually care about your loss of focus.

“That’s the idea,” he replied, a soft laugh escaping him. “But I wouldn’t want to keep you from something important.”

There was no teasing in his tone, just quiet respect—he wasn’t trying to pull you away from your work, only offering a gentle reminder to take care of yourself.

You hesitated, caught between the weight of the unfinished report and the warmth of his presence. With a sigh, you leaned back slightly, turning to face him. “Fine. Five minutes. Then I really have to get back to it.”

Lucas smiled, his expression soft and sincere. “Five minutes is more than enough.” He leaned down, pressing a kiss to your lips, tender and unhurried, as though he had all the time in the world.

When he pulled back, you found yourself smiling despite the looming deadline. “Okay, maybe this was worth the distraction.”

“Always happy to be of service,” he said with a wink. “Now, let’s make those five minutes count.”

[s4svnn]

Out of bounds . JJK

↳ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; his love subjected you to the true extent of deception, a merciless lie wrapped in the illusion of paradise, until the truth tore it apart - he was always out of bounds.

↳ Jungkook x reader

↳ 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐬: ongoing

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Chapter Thirty One

Jungkook leaned back in his leather chair, one hand gripping the phone to his ear while the other drummed impatiently against the dark mahogany desk. His office was dimly lit, the only source of light coming from the floor-to-ceiling windows behind him, where the city stretched out in endless golden streaks against the night.

His jaw was tight, his voice low and steady. “I need you to do a job for me.”

A pause.

The voice on the other end was smooth but skeptical. “Didn’t think you’d be calling me of all people. You sure about this?”

Jungkook’s grip on the phone tightened. “Find out whatever you can about Aylah Jace Banks.”

There was a brief silence. Then, a low chuckle. “A name. That’s all you’re giving me?”

Jungkook exhaled sharply, his patience thinning. “I don’t have much else. But you’re good at what you do, aren’t you?”

A rustling noise came through the line, followed by the faint sound of keys clacking against a keyboard. “Alright, alright. I’ll bite. You want a standard background check or… something deeper?”

Jungkook hesitated for half a second. Then— “Everything. Where she is, who she’s with, what she’s doing. I don’t care how long it takes, just get me answers.”

A low whistle. “Must be one hell of a girl.”

Jungkook’s jaw flexed. He didn’t answer.

The man on the phone didn’t push. “Alright, I’ll see what I can dig up. Might take a few days, might take longer. Depends on how easy she is to track.”

Jungkook’s fingers tapped against the desk, his mind already racing through the possibilities. “Just let me know the second you find something.”

“Fine, fine. But let me ask you something first.”

Jungkook narrowed his eyes. “What?”

A pause. Then, the man’s voice dropped into something almost amused. “What exactly are you hoping to find?”

Jungkook clenched his teeth, the answer sitting heavy in his chest.

That she’s okay.That she doesn’t hate me.That she’s still mine, even if she never was to begin with.

Instead, he simply said, “Just do the job.”

The man chuckled again. “Whatever you say, champ.”

Aylah’s POV:

I swirled my straw absently in my caramel frappuccino, watching the golden-brown liquid mix with the melted ice as my mind drifted back to yesterday.

The way Adam had reacted. The way he had towered over me in the storage room, his arms caging me in, his voice laced with barely contained irritation. His eyes—dark, unreadable, but holding something underneath. Something I couldn’t quite place.

I sighed, taking another slow sip of my drink. What the hell is his problem? One minute, he was acting like I didn’t exist, and the next, he was catching falling boxes and getting all up in my space like—

“BOO!”

“OH MY GOD!” My entire body jolted as I nearly spilled my drink, clutching my chest as my heart tried to recover from the near heart attack.

Cyrus burst into laughter, doubling over at my reaction. “Damn, AJ, I didn’t think you’d jump that hard. Didn’t realize you were so deep in thought.”

I exhaled sharply, placing my cup down before I actually dropped it. “Jesus, Cyrus! I swear, one of these days, you’re gonna be the reason I go into cardiac arrest.”

He smirked, plopping into the seat across from me. “Sorry, girl, but you were looking way too serious. What’s got you all spaced out?”

“Nothing,” I muttered quickly, shaking my head. “I’m fine.”

Cyrus gave me a look like he knew I was lying, but to my relief, he didn’t push it. Instead, his lips curled into a grin, his entire demeanor shifting as he clapped his hands together excitedly.

“Anyway, forget all that! It’s Bank Holiday, which means—” He stretched out the words dramatically. “—we can close up early.”

My head snapped up so fast I probably gave myself whiplash. “Wait, really?” It was like life suddenly flooded back into my body.

“Yep,” he confirmed, looking way too smug at my enthusiasm. “So, how ‘bout me, you, Serena, and Leah hit up that pizza place in Central? You know the one.”

I let out a groan, pressing my hands together in mock prayer. “Oh my God, yes. I’d kill for pizza right now.”

Just as I was about to start fantasizing about all the cheese and carbs I was about to inhale, the café door swung open, and Leah and Serena strolled in, looking suspiciously guilty.

“Guys,” Leah started, her tone careful. “We… may have a slight change of plans.”

Cyrus narrowed his eyes. “What? Why?”

Leah winced, rubbing the back of her neck. “Soooo… I may have mentioned to Adam what our plans were.”

My stomach immediately twisted.

Cyrus blinked. “Okay… and?”

Leah let out a slow breath. “Aaaand… he’s kinda coming with us.”

The entire café went silent. Even the coffee machine seemed to stop making noise.

Cyrus leaned forward. “Wait. He agreed?”

Serena nodded, eyes still wide like she couldn’t believe it herself. “Yeah, I was literally listening to their conversation, and I was shocked when he said yes. He always turns us down when we ask him to hang out.”

Leah groaned. “That’s why I asked! I didn’t want to be rude and not invite him, but I wasn’t expecting him to actually say yes.”

Serena suddenly grinned, nudging my shoulder. “Maybe it had something to do with little miss over here.”

My mouth fell open. “Excuse me?”

Cyrus wiggled his eyebrows. “I mean, think about it. He’s never hung out with us outside of work before, and now—suddenly, after your little run-in with him today—he magically decides to come?”

I crossed my arms, scowling. “That’s ridiculous.”

Serena smirked. “Is it?”

“Yes!” I said firmly. “Adam doesn’t even like me.”

Leah hummed, tapping her chin. “Mmm… Are we sure about that?”

I groaned, rubbing my temples. “Guys, seriously. He’s coming because he wants pizza, not because of me.”

Cyrus grinned. “Suuure, AJ. Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

I grabbed my frappuccino and took a very aggressive sip. “I hate you all.”

They burst into laughter.

Before I could argue any further, the door chimed again. We all turned at the same time—

And there he was.

Adam was dressed in a black hoodie and dark jeans, his usual cap pulled low over his eyes, his sharp jawline illuminated by the café lights. He stepped inside quietly, his gaze sweeping over the four of us before locking onto me.

My breath hitched.

His stare was unreadable. Not necessarily hostile, but… intense. As if he was trying to figure me out, trying to understand something about me that even I didn’t know.

I swallowed. What is with this guy?

Leah cleared her throat, breaking the awkward silence. “Uh, hey, Adam. Ready to go?”

Adam tore his gaze away from me, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Yeah.”

Cyrus leaned over and whispered in my ear. “Girl, I felt that in my coochie, and I ain’t even got one.”

I shot him a glare. “Shut up.”

He smirked but didn’t push it further.

Leah clapped her hands together. “Alright then, let’s go get some damn pizza.”

The cool evening air wrapped around us as we stepped out of the café, the sky painted in deep shades of purple and navy as the sun disappeared beyond the horizon. The streets were still buzzing with life—cars honking, groups of friends laughing as they passed by, and the scent of street food wafting from nearby vendors.

Cyrus jingled his car keys in his hand as he led the way, grinning like he was up to something. Leah walked beside him, scrolling through her phone, while Serena and I trailed just behind them. Adam, as usual, was silent, walking slightly apart from the group with his hands tucked into the pockets of his hoodie.

I tried not to think about the fact that he was right next to me. Tried being the keyword.

“So, what car are we taking?” I asked, mostly to fill the silence.

“Mine,” Cyrus answered over his shoulder. “Biggest one out of all of us.”

Leah smirked. “And you just love driving us around, don’t you?”

Cyrus scoffed. “Please. You peasants should be grateful you get to experience my excellent driving skills for free.”

Serena snorted. “Oh yeah? Tell that to the parking ticket you got last week.”

“That was a setup,” he argued. “The parking sign was misleading, and I refuse to take responsibility.”

Leah shook her head, laughing. But then, her eyes flicked to Cyrus, and her expression shifted slightly—mischief flashing behind her gaze.

Cyrus slowed his pace, letting the distance between us and them grow just enough before he leaned toward Leah and whispered, “I’ve got a plan.”

Leah arched a brow. “Oh? Do tell.”

A devilish grin spread across Cyrus’s face. “So, you know how I have two boxes of weights on my back seat? The ones I use to work out at home?”

Leah nodded slowly, catching on. “Yeah…?”

“Well, I conveniently forgot to take them out, and there’s no space in the boot.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “Which means our dear AJ is gonna have to sit on Adam’s lap.”

Leah gasped dramatically, placing a hand over her heart. “Cyrus. I love the way you think, my friend.”

They shared a sneaky high-five behind us, completely unnoticed by Serena, Adam, and me.

As we continued walking toward the car, completely oblivious to the scheme unfolding behind us, I let out a content sigh, stretching my arms. “Man, I can already taste that pizza.”

“Right?” Serena chimed in. “I’m getting extra cheese on mine.”

Adam, as expected, didn’t say anything. But I could feel his presence beside me, a silent but undeniable weight in the atmosphere.

Leah and Cyrus, on the other hand, were grinning like two kids who just got away with something very bad.

As we finally reached Cyrus’ car, he suddenly gasped dramatically, throwing a hand to his forehead like he had just remembered something crucial. “Oh no,” he said, voice laced with faux distress.

I blinked at him, confused. “What? Oh no what?”

“My weights!” He motioned toward the car like it was some tragic scene. “I completely forgot I had them in the back seat.”

I frowned. “Weights? What weights?”

Cyrus sighed heavily, shaking his head. “I work out at home, obviously,” he said, flexing his arms for emphasis. “And I bought some new ones yesterday, but I completely forgot to take them out.”

Adam, who had been mostly quiet the entire time, finally spoke. His deep, calm voice cut through Cyrus’ theatrics. “Why don’t you just move them to the boot?”

Leah perked up immediately, jumping in right on cue. “Ohhh, yeah, about that…” She winced, rubbing the back of her neck. “I may have borrowed Cyrus’ car a few days ago and may have forgotten to take out my shopping bags. Sooo… the boot is kind of full.”

I glanced between them, something about this situation feeling oddly off, but I wasn’t sure what exactly. “So… what are we gonna do? There are five of us and only four available seats.”

Leah smirked, and I swore I saw something mischievous flash in her eyes before she spoke. “Well, Cyrus is driving, obviously. And I’m a passenger princess so that seat is mine.”

I turned to Serena, already knowing what she was going to say before she even opened her mouth.

“Yeah, no way am I squeezing in the back with someone,” she said, shaking her head. “I get motion sickness way too easily so I need my own seat.”

Which left—

My stomach dropped.

Leah’s smirk grew wider. “Sooo that leaves you and Adam.”

Before I could even begin to protest, Cyrus clapped his hands together like it was the most obvious solution in the world. “AJ, you can just sit on Adam’s lap.”

I swear my entire body combusted on the spot.

“What— no, absolutely not—”

Before I could finish, a low, impatient voice cut me off.

“Fine. Get in the car.”

I turned to Adam so fast I nearly gave myself whiplash. He was standing there, looking completely unfazed, scrolling through his phone like he hadn’t just agreed to this situation with zero hesitation.

Behind me, Leah, Cyrus, and Serena squealed excitedly, but the moment I turned my head, they immediately coughed and looked away, trying (and failing) to contain their delight.

I was so going to kill them for this.

But, at this point, what choice did I have? Everyone was already climbing into the car, and I’d look even weirder if I kept standing there, refusing to move.

Taking a deep breath, I reluctantly opened the back door. Adam was already seated, legs spread slightly as he leaned back, one arm draped over the headrest as he scrolled through his phone. He didn’t even look at me.

I hesitated, shifting my weight between my feet as I stared at him from outside the car.

That’s when Adam finally glanced up, his dark eyes locking onto mine.

“You getting in or what?” His tone was even, unreadable.

“O-oh, yeah, yeah, I am,” I stammered, feeling beyond awkward.

Gripping Leah’s seat for support, I carefully climbed into the car, lowering myself onto Adam’s lap with extreme caution. I tried to leave as much space as humanly possible between my back and his chest, my entire body rigid with tension.

Well, that was until Adam suddenly grabbed me by the waist and pulled me back flush against him.

My breath hitched.

“Sit properly,” he murmured against my ear, his voice low and firm. “Or you’re going flying forward when he brakes.”

I swallowed hard, nodding quickly. “O-okay.”

I tried to ignore the warmth of his tattooed hand resting around my waist, the heat of his body pressed against mine, the way his scent—something dark and woody—wrapped around me like an embrace.

In front of me, Leah and Cyrus exchanged triumphant smirks.

I had just fallen perfectly into their trap.

Jungkook’s POV:

Jungkook sat in his office, the dim glow from his desk lamp casting shadows across his features. He exhaled slowly, fingers tapping against the cool surface of his desk as his phone buzzed beneath his palm. His patience was wearing thin.

He had given it two hours. That was already more waiting than he was used to.

Without hesitation, he picked up his phone and dialed the number, pressing it to his ear. The call barely rang twice before a familiar voice answered.

“Yo.”

Jungkook didn’t bother with greetings. “Did you find anything?”

A dry chuckle came through the line. “Bro, you called me two hours ago. I told you it would take a few days to get all the information you wanted.”

Jungkook clenched his jaw. Days? He didn’t have days.

“I’ll pay you triple,” he said flatly, his tone leaving no room for negotiation. “Make it quick.”

Silence.

Then, the unmistakable sound of the guy sucking his teeth, clearly irritated. But Jungkook knew money talked, and sure enough—

“Well,” the guy sighed, his tone shifting. “She’s in South London. Works at some café.” There was a brief pause before he added, almost amused, “So far, that’s all I’ve got.”

Jungkook sat up straighter, his grip tightening around his phone. His brain latched onto two word.

South London.

His pulse quickened as he processed the information, but he kept his voice calm, steady. “Send me her address.”

The guy let out a low chuckle. “Damn. Not even a ‘thank you’? Thought you’d want more details. Like, I don’t know, what she’s been up to, who she’s hanging around, maybe even why she left—”

“You can find all that out and tell me later,” Jungkook interrupted, his patience wearing thinner by the second. “Just send me her address. Now.”

The line was quiet for a moment before the guy finally sighed. “Whatever you say, man. Sending it through right now.”

Jungkook’s phone buzzed almost instantly. He pulled it away from his ear just in time to see a notification pop up on his screen—an address in London.

His lips curled slightly.

Found you.

Before he could hang up, a thought gnawed at him. He brought the phone back to his ear.

“How’d you even find her?”

The guy snorted. “Man, it was easy. To be honest, you could’ve found her yourself.”

Jungkook’s brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

The guy let out an exasperated chuckle. “That iPad you gave her? It’s still logged into your Apple ID. You could’ve tracked her using the Find My app.”

Jungkook froze.

Then, realization slammed into him like a punch to the gut.

Fuck.

How had he forgotten about that? The iPad—he had given it to her back when—

His jaw tightened. He shoved the memory away before it could drag him under.

Doesn’t matter. He knew where she was now. That was all that mattered.

“Right. Got it,” he muttered.

“Yeah, yeah,” the guy drawled lazily. “Anything else?”

Jungkook inhaled deeply, running a hand through his curls. “No. That’s all.”

“Alright, man. I’ll keep digging. You’ll hear from me soon.”

Jungkook ended the call without another word and tossed his phone onto the desk, staring at the address glowing on the screen.

He leaned back in his chair, letting the information settle. The city that had swallowed her up, kept her hidden from him all this time—he was finally about to break through.His fingers tightened around his car keys, the cool metal pressing against his palm.

He didn’t know why he felt this rush of adrenaline. He didn’t know what he was expecting to find when he saw her again. All he knew was that he had to see her again.

A smirk ghosted across his lips as he pushed himself up from his chair.

"London, here I come."

Aylah’s POV:

The heat in the car was stifling, the kind that pressed down on your chest and made every breath feel a little too shallow. It was more than just the summer warmth, though; it was the overwhelming sensation of being so close to Adam. His hand was still on my waist, a firm, constant presence that sent a strange fluttering sensation spiraling in my stomach. What was worse, though, was the way he casually moved his fingers in small, slow circles, as if it was no big deal. It made everything feel a little too intimate, a little too personal, especially considering the tension between us.

At first, I tried to ignore it, focusing on the blaring horns and the constant stop-and-go of the traffic around us. But with each passing second, I felt his touch more acutely, the warmth of his palm pressing into the soft skin of my midriff. The fabric of my crop top offered no barrier between us, leaving my body fully aware of his presence.

His touch was making my heart race, my thoughts scatter. I was trying to make sense of it all, trying to figure out why he was acting this way. He didn’t like me; of that, I was sure. But then why was he here? And why did he feel the need to touch me, to keep his hand where no one else’s hand should be?

Just stop thinking about it, I mentally told myself, but the words did nothing to quiet the chaos in my mind. The car seemed to grow smaller, the air thicker. I shifted uncomfortably, trying to focus on anything but him—anything but the way his hand felt on my body.

But then, as if the universe decided to add another layer to my already overwhelming thoughts, the car jerked forward. Cyrus had swerved suddenly, his eyes wide as he tried to avoid a drunk man who had somehow found it necessary to start twerking in the middle of the road. It was an absurd sight, one that should’ve made me laugh or at least acknowledge the ridiculousness of it, but I couldn’t. My attention was still on Adam.

“Get out of the way, you nitty!” Cyrus yelled, leaning out the window to shout at the man who seemed completely oblivious to the chaos he was causing.

Leah’s laughter echoed through the car, a sound of pure amusement at the ridiculousness of the situation. But I couldn’t join her in her laughter. I couldn’t even appreciate how comical the moment was because everything around me seemed distant. Adam’s hand. His touch. His proximity.

My head snapped back to reality as Adam spoke, his voice laced with mild concern. “You’re going to hit your head on the headrest if you don’t move.”

I blinked, confused for a second, before I realized that the car had stopped moving, and I had been inches away from slamming my face into Leah’s headrest. Without thinking, I tilted my head downward, my cheek now resting against Adam’s shoulder.

There was no escaping it now. His scent, the warmth of his body, the proximity—it was all too much, too close. I could feel his breath against my skin, and it made the air between us feel thick. It was uncomfortable, yes, but also strangely intimate, as if the whole world had narrowed down to this moment, to the feeling of his body against mine.

I barely had time to process the discomfort before I felt his hand move again. This time, it wasn’t on my waist, but on my upper thigh. His fingers stretched across my skin, draped lazily but firmly there, resting in a way that made me acutely aware of every muscle in my body. The contact, the subtle pressure, the warmth of his touch—it was impossible to ignore. My body tensed instinctively, and my heart skipped a beat.

I couldn’t keep my focus. Every breath felt too short, too shallow. Every shift of the car made his hand feel more invasive, more overwhelming. He wasn’t even paying attention, scrolling through his phone with the kind of casual indifference that made it feel like this was normal.

Desperate for a distraction, I turned my head to glance at Serena. She was slumped in her seat, her head tilted back in a deep, seemingly effortless sleep. It almost made me angry. How could she be so relaxed while I was practically suffocating in this charged silence?

Motion sickness, my ass, I thought bitterly.

I shifted my gaze back to Adam’s phone. I needed to focus on something else, anything but the way his hand felt on me. That’s when I saw it—sketches. Detailed, beautiful sketches of the café. The lines were sharp, the shading precise, and the designs looked almost like something out of a high-end architectural magazine. I was mesmerized by the intricate detail, by the way each curve seemed to flow effortlessly into the next.

“Wow,” I muttered, unable to hide my awe. “These are amazing.”

Adam didn’t look at me. He didn’t seem to notice my growing fascination, his attention still fixed on the screen of his phone. But then his voice cut through my thoughts, teasing but with an edge to it.

“Didn’t know you were nosey.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. I wasn’t sure if it was because of the humor in his voice or because I was trying to ignore the fact that my pulse was racing, but I let out a breathless chuckle. “Hard to miss when your phone is practically right in my face.”

He smirked, his lips curling into that trademark expression of his. I felt it—a slight brush against my cheek, a fleeting contact that only made everything worse. My stomach fluttered again.

“Fair point,” he replied, a low chuckle rumbling in his chest.

I wasn’t ready to stop there. Not with these incredible designs in front of me. My curiosity was overpowering. I had to know more.

“So, whose sketches are these?” I asked, leaning in a little closer.

“They’re mine,” Adam said without hesitation, his voice sounding almost bored, as if it was no big deal.

I couldn’t stop myself from blinking in surprise. “Wait, these are yours?” I repeated, my voice a little too high-pitched. “You designed the café?”

He shifted in his seat, his hand adjusting on my thigh as he did so. The sudden pressure made me gasp, but I quickly tried to regain control of myself. “Yeah,” he said casually, almost as if it were nothing special. “Interior design was my thing. It’s what I studied.”

My mind was racing. “No way,” I whispered, still processing what he was saying. “I studied design too. But in car design.”

Adam’s eyes met mine then, and for a brief, fleeting moment, there was something in his gaze—something soft and sincere. It was gone as quickly as it came, but for a second, it felt like we were connected in a way I couldn’t explain.

“It’s a rewarding degree,” he said after a beat, his voice quieter now. “Hard, but rewarding.”

I nodded slowly, feeling the weight of the moment sink in. “Yeah, you’re right,” I murmured softly.

But as I looked at him, at the way his hand still rested so comfortably on my thigh, the question that lingered in my mind was no longer about design. It was about us—about what the hell was happening between us, and why it felt like everything was shifting so quickly, too quickly for me to keep up.

For once, I didn’t have an answer.

Sure, let’s extend and enhance this scene:

We pulled up in front of the famous pizza place, its familiar neon lights blinking in the early evening dusk. The whole group, myself included, had been craving this pizza all day—the kind of pizza with the crisp crust, gooey cheese, and just the right amount of toppings that made it the local legend. But as we approached the door, Cyrus came to an abrupt stop, his face turning from eager anticipation to utter disbelief.

“No fucking way,” he muttered under his breath, his hand falling away from the door handle as he stared at the sign on the window. I leaned in to get a better look, and my stomach dropped when I saw the bold letters.

Closed for Bank Holiday.

I groaned, staring at the sign in shock. The pizza, the one thing that had been keeping me going today, was now off the table. Serena, who had been half asleep in the backseat, suddenly jerked awake, her face contorting in disbelief.

“It’s closed?!” she said, her eyes wide, as if hoping that maybe the sign was some kind of cruel joke. “No fucking way!”

Leah, standing at the front, looked equally shocked. “What the hell? These guys are never closed on a Bank Holiday! What gives?” She knocked on the door as if trying to will it open.

We all stood there, staring at the closed doors like they held all the answers to life’s problems. The weight of disappointment settled in my stomach, making it feel even emptier than before.

“So what now?” I asked, glancing around at the group. Nobody seemed to have an answer.

Cyrus sighed, looking up at the sky like he was trying to draw some cosmic inspiration. “I vote we go back to the café. We can cry while eating dessert,” he said dramatically, throwing his hands in the air.

Leah perked up, nodding enthusiastically. “I second that. There’s nothing better than drowning in your tears while eating cookies and cream ice cream.” She glanced at me, giving me a playful grin.

I let out a little laugh at that, trying to shake off the frustration. As much as I hated to admit it, there was something comforting about the idea of heading back to the café and indulging in something sweet to lift my mood. I was about to agree when my phone buzzed in my pocket, pulling me out of the moment.

I glanced at the caller ID: Kayla.

I slid the phone open, lifting it to my ear. “Hey, Kayla!”

“Where are you?” Her voice was warm and chipper, but there was an underlying curiosity in her tone.

I sighed, glancing at the group. “I’m just with my coworkers. We were going to grab lunch, but that famous pizza place in Central is closed.”

Kayla let out a dramatic groan. “Awe, man, I would’ve killed for some pizza.” Her voice was light, but I could tell she was just as disappointed as I was.

I smiled, a little amused by her over-the-top reaction. “I know, right? It was the only thing you ate in college.”

She laughed at that, the sound soft and easy. “True, true. But hey, I just got back from work. If you guys aren’t going anywhere, how about you bring them all to my place? I’ll whip something up.”

The offer was tempting. Kayla could cook, and her meals were always incredible. I looked back at the group, trying to gauge their reactions.

I spoke up, excitement creeping into my voice. “Hey, guys,” I called. “What do you think about eating at Kayla’s place?”

The change in Cyrus’s demeanor was immediate. “Kayla? The Kayla? The one you said cooks like she came from heaven?” He raised an eyebrow, clearly excited by the idea.

Leah’s eyes lit up too. “Is it that Kayla?”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “Yes, that’s her.”

Serena, who had been unusually quiet up until that point, perked up. “Then what are we waiting for? To Kayla’s, it is!”

I nodded, pulling my phone away from my ear to tell Kayla we’d be there in a bit. “Cool, I’ll get started on the food. See you soon,” she said before hanging up.

I felt a familiar pull—a strange twinge in my chest as I looked at the wallpaper on my lock screen. It was a picture of Jungkook’s car, the one I had designed. My pride and joy.

Adam, who had been standing beside me, glanced down at my phone as I put it away. His eyes lingered on the screen for a moment before flicking up to meet mine. “Is that an F1 car?” he asked, his voice genuine, curious.

I nodded, feeling a slight rush of pride at his attention. “Yeah. I actually designed it about a month ago for the Monaco Grand Prix.”

His eyebrows raised, clearly impressed. “Wow. I didn’t know you were that talented.”

A small smirk tugged at the corner of my lips. I wasn’t used to this—getting compliments, especially from someone like Adam. It felt a little surreal. “There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me.”

His eyebrows quirked, and he leaned in slightly, his gaze locked on mine. “Oh yeah?” There was a challenge in his tone, playful but layered with something else I couldn’t quite place.

I felt a knot twist in my stomach at his words. My heart picked up pace, but I wasn’t about to let him see how much he affected me. “Well,” I said, holding his gaze. “If you stick around, maybe I’ll tell you.”

The tension between us grew, thick and unspoken. For a second, the air around us seemed to hum with something almost electric. But before anything more could happen, Leah’s voice cut through the moment as she whispered into my ear.

“Let’s get going before you two start fucking each other in front of us,” she teased, giving me a playful nudge.

I snapped out of it, feeling my cheeks warm slightly. “Right, right. Let’s go to Kayla’s. I’m starving.”

And with that, we all piled back into the cars, the mood lifting slightly as we drove through the streets. But as we made our way toward Kayla’s place, I couldn’t help but feel that strange mix of excitement and nervousness again.

[bluem1ngs]

And I love her

I’ve known her a few years, having been in the same friend group, we were later introduced to one another.

She has a wonderful personality and is an eager girl. She is outgoing and consistently makes others happy.

She is smart and resilient.

There’s not a single subject on the face of the planet that she doesn’t have an opinion about. And she knows what exactly is right and wrong in her eyes, and she isn’t one to back down.

Her endless chatter about whatever is on her mind never ceases to amaze me.

 

And the girl’s really smart, so she’s usually right, and when she argues, it comes from this really beautiful, pure place, so how could anyone ever fight against that?

She is stunning.

I found her most beautiful when she wasn’t all fancied up. When she was lying on the carpet, her hair was all a mess. She was laughing about something that must’ve happened years ago. That’s when I couldn’t take my eyes off of her.

She has strength and self-reliance.

I have witnessed her at both her finest and worst points in life, and no matter how sad she is, she always manages to make people smile.

She adores music and all of it.

The Beatles are her all-time favorite band. Every Sunday she bakes or cleans as her old record player plays the English bands music. I was out with her and a few friends once, and at a jazz club where we were all dining, The Beatles "And I Love Her" came on.

"This is my favorite song," she said to me as her eyes brightened. I still remember that moment.

She got up that evening and pulled me to dance. The other diners in the restaurant started to join in, dancing in the midst of the jazz club with their friends, lovers, and loved ones.

We danced together under the crimson glow. Gazing past my shoulder, she was incredibly gorgeous in my embrace.

She laughed as I twirled her around.

As the song was coming to an end, the dance floor was empty except for just the two of us.

We only concentrated on one another, without a care in the world. We danced to the tune, hand in hand, gently and rhythmically, our hands encircling one other.

As the song came to a end, I gave her one last spin.

With such wonder and affection, she gazed at me and said a thank you.

To this, I asked with a smile on my lips, “For what?” and she told me, “For making this an unforgettable night.”

I knew I was in love with her right then and there.

She was always there for me. Whether she was watching at home or in the stadium, she never missed a game.

She was constantly encouraging to me, whispering sweet things to me while we spent hours talking about whatever on her flat floor.

I told her that very night, "You are beautiful," she told me, sarcastically,“beautiful is a lazy and lousy way to describe me.”

My lips curled into a little grin. My mouth trembles like as if I’m trying hard not to laugh. My eyes grow softer as they focus on her.

She was the one for me, I knew.

It was the season's final game. With my name on her back, there she was.

On the field, celebrating the final moments of an incredible season, came loved ones of the players' families.

With a look of intense curiosity, I turned around and looked for her, my eyes brightening when I finally found her.

We exchanged intense looks, revealing all. We have adoration, attraction, and unwavering feelings for one another in our eyes. Our eyes sparkle, and it has a faint smile in them. I knew and she knew deep down, even if we said nothing about it.

I give her all my love, that’s all I do.

I didn’t have to say a word, twirling her under my arm and placing my hand on her waist, dipping her. i placed my lips on hers, taking her in a romantic and amorous kiss.

And I love her.