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tiredofthehumanlife · 19 hours ago

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Is he mine? Fucking obviously.

also btw I color code my titles I don't pick them like this for the aesthetics of it

Barbie dolls: Touya Todoroki x gn! reader

Word: 6.5k

Summary: Touya almost died on national television and disappears from from the public's eyes with no way to contact him you decide to keep your pregnancy a secret from him

Warning: You get pregnant! idc of its m!preg or abo or magic or just bareback fucking that got you there I'm just telling you you got pregnant, you keep the baby btw, your son is named Kaito (which according to name berry means sea so there), your son refers to you by Ren and Rena which is a gender neutral term for parent it's like mom and dad essentially, you fuck dabi at one point it's not smut it's just mentioned, Touya goes to rehab and so if he's ooc then it's rehabs fault not mine, I am kidding but he is definitely not exactly dabi core dykwim, you grieve Touya even tho technically he's alive it'll make sense when you read it but you cry a couple times just fyi, idk man, mentioned once that you wanted children before w Touya, 'crotch goblin' used I j feel like that's some shit dabi would say but I digress, Elmo reference tell me if you find it, possible allusions to Kaito being autistic but like boo fucking hoo idk, mention of blunts, SIDs mentioned once, also mentioned that you may or may not have anxiety especially over your son, yeah okay lmk if you any blue words I didn't do that on purpose

Before the war, you knew Dabi. You knew Touya, as well. When he was watching over you from the shadows during the day, he was Dabi. When he was buried in your arms hiding under your sheets, he was Touya. You kept him close to you, there wasn’t another way you’d like to live. You hated to say it but you needed his eyes and hands on you. You didn’t care what he did during the day or even at night as long as he wandered back to you through your door. You didn’t care if you both sat on the couch and stared at the TV or if you ripped his clothes off with greedy hands, as long as you could feel the abnormal heat of his body on yours. Maybe that made you morally questionable, you didn’t care. You knew who you were and you knew who he was. You knew your lungs would collapse if you couldn’t see those blue eyes again.

After the war that all changed. Watching your lover almost kill himself on live television made you feel sick to your stomach. You had to leave the building entirely, only to find it broadcasted all over the screens of passersby’s phones, billboards, and the small television behind the counter of every convenience store. You hid under your sheets, hoping when you woke up they would smell like him because he was lying next to you.

You heard of his whereabouts through coworkers' gossip, news articles, and murmurs from the public. None of whom knew you had kissed him goodbye the morning before, having no idea what was to come. You read every article you saw. You eavesdropped on every conversation. You bought every magazine that even slightly mentioned the Todoroki family. You knew the only way you’d know if he was okay was through the third-person retelling by a reporter.

He was in severe recovery. He was in one piece, technically. His father was paying for his bills. He was likely to be alright.

Really that’s all you needed, yet somehow it still wasn’t enough. You needed to see him and hold him. You wondered if he was eating solids or if he was on a tube. You wondered if he needed you to add another row of staples. You hated when he asked that of you, you couldn’t turn him down when he looked up at you with his pleading eyes. It made you feel sick to your stomach but you were the only one, besides himself, he trusted to do it. What you would give up now to groan and complain about having to replace his staples.

Slowly as time pulled along, Touya made the news less and less. You took fewer magazines from their rack, his face didn’t make it to the television, and you felt his image slipping away from you.

Your sheet smelled more like you than they did him. His clothes had been through the wash multiple times now. You kept tossing them into the dirty hamper straight from the dryer because you couldn’t bear to throw them away or hide them in a closet. Your stack of newspapers and magazines stayed stacked at the corner of your desk. You cried when you had to sweep up the dirt from his boots by the front door. Then you cried for crying over that.

You felt pathetic the way you started to hate him for all this. You wanted to slap him and jab your finger in his face. You wanted to call him a selfish bastard. You cried in your kitchen when you realized you accidentally bought his favorite foods as second nature. You couldn’t wrap your head around the fact that he had just slipped from your life like that.

He was alive, yes but alive in the same way a relative across the world was. You knew they were out there but it’d be a cold day in hell before they were in your living room.

You slowly pieced yourself back together. His clothes were folded and put away on the shelf of your closet. You stopped looking at them when you started to get ready for the day as time went on. You stopped buying his food. You threw out most of the newspapers, only keeping the pages that really mattered. You folded them all up and shoved them into a drawer in your desk. You stop seeing him everywhere in your home. You stopped seeing him in your mind.

Just as you were getting back on your feet, the world played a sick trick on you. You found out you were pregnant. After some thinking and a lot of it, you made your decision. You were keeping it. Yes sure it came out of nowhere. Yes sure your baby would be raised in a single-parent household. You always wanted this. You thought of asking Touya about it sometimes but you always chickened out. Now you wouldn’t be doing it with Touya, but you could have the life you wanted. A child. You were ready, you felt it in your bones.

You had the baby. For months before the due date, you had scoured for name ideas. You wrote down names you heard over conversations in cafes. You read every article. You considered naming your baby after Touya. You scratched that idea after realizing you’d like to have his consent for that. You thought of him on your couch over seven months ago. He would’ve said ‘Hell no. Don’t name one of those crotch goblins after me.’ You bought books on the very subject. You slapped post-it notes to your fridge when you found one you liked. Yet all that came crashing down when you finally had your baby in your arms.

You were fucking worn out. Your hands felt like they were going to cramp from all the squeezing you did to the handrails and your poor nurse. Your hair was sticking to your face. You felt like you stinked. Your lungs felt heavy and your ribs felt tight. With your little ‘crotch goblin’ in your arms you felt a smile grow on your face.

His face was scrunched up in a cry, a tiny fist pressed against his cheek. You gently rubbed the side of his face with your finger, trying to calm him down. His cry settled as he pushed his face toward you. You whispered a hello. You were fully encapsulated by him, your son, you paid no attention to the doctor still between your legs. Your baby let out a coo as he opened his eyes, staring up at you.

You knew babies could really see at this age, he was probably just looking in the direction of your voice. Whether or not he could see you had no effect on the color of his eyes. You knew them. They were the same ones who would stare at you from across your room as you got ready for bed. The same ones that would plead you for new staples. The same ones that sat across from you during dinner. The same ones that reminded you of the cold and freezing sea.

“Kaito.” You muttered, earning a coo from him. You nodded. “Yeah? Do you like that name?” he huffed and pushed his nose towards your arm. You hummed. “Kaito it is, then.”

A year and a half went by before you ever heard from Touya again. You were doing some cleaning while Kaito was at daycare, hurrying so you could still have time for relaxation before you had to go pick him up.

You loved him dearly but a toddler was a lot to handle. Especially alone. You found a daycare nearby that you trusted, and your mental health picked up drastically. A few hours of silence on the weekends and time to work from home without a toddler trying to lick a socket was all that you seemed to need to feel whole. As you were throwing his toys back into the large basket on the other side of the living room, you heard a knock. You paused before throwing the toy truck. You moved to the front door, peeking through the peep hole.

A woman with white hair and streaks of red, glasses, and a blue sweater was waiting at your door. You pulled away from the door, unlocking it and swinging it open. She smiled at you once she saw you.

“Hi, can I help you?” You asked, smiling but feeling terribly awkward about the whole thing. She nodded.

“Hi, I’m Fuyumi. My brother, Touya, was finally released from his mess of operations and hospitals. And he-“ Your smile fell when you finally registered the name. Yes, you heard it but you just didn’t think you’d ever hear that name again. It had just floated over your head. You realize this was his sister standing in front of you. You closed the door so you were squeezed between it and the frame, smiling like it was a perfectly normal thing to do. You couldn’t let her see the tiny rain boots, light-up sneakers, and brightly colored toys on your floor. Fuyumi glanced at you over the frame of her glasses, a slightly confused look passing over her face before she schooled it. She pulled her bag from her shoulder, rummaging her hand through it.

“-is finally in rehab. They’re letting him have pencils now after strings being pulled by our father. Anyway, he-um- gave me these letters. He told me I needed to find you. He said he wouldn’t trust anyone else to give these to you. He considered our mom, but he said-“

“Letters?” You repeated, watching her hands as they dug through her bag. She nodded, looking up at you for a brief second.

“Yes. here they are, finally.” She pulled a stack of three letters from her bag, sticking them out to you. You quickly took them from her, taking the top one. You shoved the other two into your back pocket, tearing open the envelope. You yanked the folded paper from the envelope, unfolding it as fast as possible. You skimmed over the words, trying to move your eyes along the lines faster than you could.

‘Love -don’t care- I haven’t stopped thinking of you- wish you could come to see me-I need to see home- your bed- do you think of me-I’m not sure how much longer-I can’t add you to my visitation-I miss you.’ You paused, staring at his signature at the bottom. ‘Yours, Touya’ was simple but he didn’t talk of his feelings. Ever.

You were lucky if you found out he liked dinner. You traced over his name with the tip of your finger. You stopped, looking up at the woman in front of you. She was watching you intently like every move was being cataloged. You slowly straightened your shoulders up and pushed the letter back into the envelope like you didn’t care at all. You put the envelope with the other two in your pocket, pretending you weren’t itching to read the other two. You cleared your throat, staring at Fuyumi like a child caught misbehaving.

“He tried to get your name on the visitation list but they wouldn’t allow it. You had to be family.” Fuyumi said, giving you a soft smile. You nodded, feeling Kaito’s finger painting on the fridge staring holes into the side of your face.

“Might’ve been for the best. I don’t know I’m really the same person he…liked before.” You said, squeezing the door a little closer to you. Fuyumi shook her head.

“I’m not sure if that’s true. He’s told our entire family about you. I don’t think the change would keep him from you. However, I don’t really know you, do I?” Fuyumi said, clasping her hands together in front of her. You nodded. It’s a bit weird knowing that she had a nephew a few blocks away and she didn’t even know if you and her brother were really dating at all. Well, you weren’t now but were you ever? You snorted and shrugged.

“It’s a lot of change.” You said, watching her closely. She hummed, pulling her bag closer too pher.

“Well I have to go, I have lunch with Shoto soon. Just, think of sending him back a letter. I think it would be good for him to hear from you.” Fuyumi said before walking away from your door and heading for the sidewalk. You watched her go for a moment, feeling stuck in your place. You felt like you were watching Touya walking away again. You sighed before going back inside to finish reading the letters.

You read the letters over and over again for a month. You read them so much you didn’t need to see the paper to think through his words. You spent your free time staring at the handwriting. You dissected the word choice, punctuation, and tone. You need to know every thought that went through his head. Kaito asked you what they were, in the words and format of a 1 ½-year-old would. You redirected him to his toys and started reading them only at night when you were alone in your room. You sat up in bed most nights, staring at his clothes on the shelf of your closet and picking at your nails.

You thought through your two options.

You could break his heart and tell him you couldn’t be with him. You had changed, you were someone new. You couldn’t see a future. You moved on. You had a new partner, one that didn’t have their face on the news. Whatever it would take to get him to move on. He needed someone else, someone not like you. Someone without a kid.

Your second option was to tell him. Everything. He had already been through what a year or so of medical operations? That’s what Fuyumi said, wasn’t it? Now he was stuck in rehab, they just gave him access to pencils. He was slowly rebuilding himself. He was obviously making progress in the right direction, communicating. That was a big word for Touya. It was over paper but still. He used the word love eight times in those letters. Kaito would have to get adjusted to his family growing up. Change is hard for young children. Change is hard for you. You‘d be forcing this responsibility onto Touya. He’d either support Kaito or not. Either way, he’d have that thought in the back of his mind. Touya was barely standing on his own two feet right now. Most likely figuratively and literally. You couldn’t add a new stressor to his life. He’d throw a table or something and get his pencil rights taken away again.

You made the mature decision to break his heart instead. You wrote it out carefully and edited it. You made sure it came off the right way. You sealed the envelope and addressed it using the information from the back of his letters. Maybe it wasn’t something that would make you liked by any of the Todoroki family, but it was better for them. You knew it. You told him it was the change. You had changed too much. You listed all the ways you weren’t the person he thought you were anymore. Of course, you jumped over the child-sized elephant in the room.

You couldn’t bear to think of him crying over your letter. You wondered if his tears were still bloody. Most likely, that didn’t seem like something that was healable. You ignored the ache in your heart, pulling your son closer to you in a tight hug. You couldn’t think of Touya stuck in a sterile rehabilitation center. You couldn’t think of him reading your letter more than once. You couldn’t think of Touya at all, so you focused on Kaito instead.

You didn’t get a letter back. You didn’t get any of his siblings at your door. Instead, you took Kaito to daycare, worked, took Kaito home, and went to bed ready to repeat. You and Kaito went on little adventures on the weekends, going to the park, play dates, swimming lessons, zoos, and museums. You couldn’t love your son and life more.

He was getting bigger. He was developing his own personality now, such a sweet boy he gave you cavities. Kaito was so bright. He was the smartest kid you knew and you weren’t biased at all in saying that. He was so beautiful and tiny. You wanted to wrap him up in a blanket and keep him in your pocket forever. Some days he would run through the living room like a plane and all you could remember was when he fit in the crook of your arm. He was so curious he asked you about the world every day. Some days he came home from daycare with a fun fact you never knew.

The day he manifested his quirk was on the weekend in the backyard. You were on the back porch, watching him run back and forth through the oscillating sprinkler. You sipped your tea slowly, easing your anxiety about him slipping.

Kaito flung his hero doll through the water. It thunked in the grass, face first. Kaito yelled that he was coming to save the hero. He pressed his wrists together, jutting his hands out like a stream of power would rush through them. He jumped up, pushing his hands out again and giving himself a sound effect.

As he passed through the water you saw sparks and flames envelop his hands and fly straight to the ground toasting the ground next to his doll to ash. Kaito landed in the burnt grass, freezing and staring down at his hands. You jolted up onto your feet, setting your tea down and rushing towards him.

Kaito slowly turned around towards you, a scared look on his face. You scooped him up, wrapping him in a hug. Kaito pressed his nose into your shoulder, holding onto your neck tightly. It’s a bit scary to see fire shoot out of your hands as a three-year-old. You stared at the ring of burnt grass, thinking back on the fire around his fingertips.

It wasn’t blue like his father’s, it was red like a campfire. A part of you was happy, he wouldn’t have to struggle to control a quirk as hot as his father’s. Another part of you was sad, you kinda liked the idea of your son growing up to be a hero and showing the world his blue flame was still hero material. Maybe Touya could find it out that way. You didn’t even know if Kaito wanted to be a hero. Maybe he’d do something simple. A third part was scared, fire is easily destructive. Kaito was new to it, he didn’t know how to control it. Your house could be in ashes in days.

Touya would’ve been worried if he had been on the porch with you. Hellfire, like his father. Like the father he tried so hard to destroy and landed himself in the hospital and rehab. What made his father like that? A father like Enji fathering Enji? That’s how it works isn’t it, like passing sand from hands to hands, the trauma follows you in a terrible circle.

Well, your son would have less sand, he’d love who he is. You pulled Kaito away from your neck, leaning your head back to get a full look at his face. His eyes were glistening and he was pressing his fist to his cheek. The image of him as a newborn in your arms passed over you. You wiped at the tears on his cheeks, kissing them afterward.

“You got your quirk, Kaito. Isn’t that so exciting?” You said, smiling widely to settle his anxiety. Kaito pulled his hands from his face, looking at you confused. You bounced him on your hip and started spinning around, squealing about his quirk. You rested your hands on his back, dipping him down so he hung upside down just a little. You passed his head through the sprinkler, making him laugh loudly. You pulled him back up, dancing away from the sprinkler and the burnt grass. Kaito shook his wet white mop of hair out, drizzling you with water.

Two and half years pass before Kaito starts school. He’s settled into the routine. He knows the time you give him breakfast, the time he gets dressed, the time he brushes his teeth, and the time you leave. Kaito would rather burn all his toys than be late for school. He’s made plenty of friends there. He’s already been invited to two birthday parties in the few months he’s been there. You wonder if daycare was that beneficial to him.

Kaito walks his clean plate to the sink, standing on his tiptoes to gently set it in the bottom. You praise him before finishing your own. Kaito heads towards his room, ignoring your words entirely. Every morning he was on a mission to get to school at exactly the right time. Once he tried to get you to force him to go to school while he was sick. He whined about his perfect attendance before you told him he could watch TV. He dropped the subject after that. A knock sounds at your door. You look over your shoulder before concluding it was the mail. Sometimes they needed your signature.

“Kaito, you better not forget your jacket! It's cold out!” You shouted so he could hear you through his door. You stared at his face peeking through his door as you swung open the front door. You pointed at him sternly, earning an eye roll. Damn you, Touya. You turned to face the mailman, face falling at the man in front of you.

His hair had grown out and the dye had long been gone. Touya’s scars looked… healthier. Healed a little, paler and a little more moisturized. His staples were removed. You assumed they had been replaced with stitches that had healed over a million moons ago. Half his piercings were gone, a stud in his nose and two in each ear were all that he had left. Or at least was wearing today. His clothes were more put together, relaxed but not in the scrambled way they were a few years ago. Touya stood bolder now like he found something inside himself during rehab that made his chest puff out. His eyes were all the same. You thought if you ever saw him again, you'd only see Kaito in his eyes. You only saw Touya.

“I finished rehab.” Touya finally said. Your silence stood in the air, like a confession of everything. You realized he could see into your home, slowly moving towards the door frame and holding the door tightly against you. Touya watched you with a look you'd only seen once before. In the middle of the night in your dimly lit living room, a movie in the background as the two of you kissed for the first time without sexual intent behind it.

“Evidently. You look good by the way, rounded, healthy. Um, what exactly are you doing here, though?” You asked, leaning back inside to look at the clock. Three minutes before Kaito left his room. Five if he was having wardrobe malfunctions. You leaned forward again, pretending you weren't on a time crunch.

“I know you sent me a letter. I know you said you didn't think I'd still care for you because you've changed so much but I think it's pretty obvious I've changed too. I just wanted to ask if you could give us a second shot we could try again as the new versions of ourselves. Every day I was in there I've been thinking about you. I haven't been able to-” You leaned back again, one minute, three with malfunctions. You put your attention back on Touya, nodding to signify him to continue. He paused, pulling his hand from his coat pocket. “-Am I interrupting something?” He asked.

You froze, dragging your eyes away from the clock. You met Touya's eyes, staring at him with wide eyes. You weren't getting out of this, you wouldn't be able to. You sighed, pinching your brow.

“No, I'm sorry Touya. It's very sweet and genuine of you to ask this but I really think there's just a big-” you waved your hands between the two of you. “-hurdle between us that we'd have to get through. I just think you should find someone else to love and cherish or whatever it is people say.” You threw your hands down, looking at his face again. He looked cold, he looked like the man who would show up at your door almost six years ago with blood staining his clothes. Touya shook his head, a new look meeting his features. He furrowed his brows. He stared at the step in front of him.

“I just don't understand. I feel like this came out of nowhere before the letters, everything was fine, and then all of a sudden you were too different-” Touya said. Your heart dropped to your stomach when you heard Kaito’s door open.

“Rena! Can you help me button my pants? The button is hard.” You could hear the pout in Kaito's voice. It reached Touya’s ears. You know it did. He froze, eyes glued to the ground. You didn’t bother trying to hide the wreck of a child’s home behind you anymore. The cat was out of the bag. You kicked the front door back, revealing all the toys and children’s books thrown across your living room. Kaito ran up to you, holding his pants up with both hands. You squatted down, pulling his pants together. As you slipped the button through the hole, Kaito greeted Touya.

“Hi! I’m Kaito. Do you have a quirk?” Ever the extrovert, Kaito wanted to be friends with everyone he met. You zipped Kaito’s pants up. You turned back, pulling his sneakers from the shoe rack. You might as well while you’re already on the floor. You glanced up at Touya to see him staring open-mouthed at Kaito. Kaito was unaccustomed with this reaction, gripping onto your shoulder.

“Touya. My son asked you a question.” You said, pulling Touya from the depths of his mind. Touya dropped down to his knees, getting on eye level with Kaito. You pulled Kaito’s sneakers on, tying the laces and pulling over the Velcro strap. Usually, he put his own shoes on but with the new friend, you thought you should do it.

“Hi. My name is Touya. Yes, I do have a quirk.” Touya responded slowly. Kaito was his, there was no way Touya hadn't realized that. It wasn’t frequent that you ran into someone with those eyes, that hair, and that smile.

You looked at Touya as you pulled Kaito’s other shoe on. Touya moved his focus from Kaito to you. His mouth was still a little agape, staring at Kaito with eyes that only you could understand. Kaito squealed, he loved showing off his quirk. You pulled back, leaning away from him, watching his hands. A whoosh came with the balls of fire enveloping his hands. Sparks flew around the edges. He grinned down at his ablaze hands like a crazy person. You smiled at his excitement, looking over to Touya. He stared at Kaito’s hands, face unreadable.

“Okay, Kaito. That’s enough. No quirk in the house, you know that.” You said, wafting his hands with air. It never put the flame out but it made Kaito laugh. He put his fire down, a few disgruntled sparks flying after. After an unfortunate incident involving your arm and his quirk, you both learned that Kaito needed a few minutes to cool off before he touched something again. The scar was still on your upper arm, a tiny handprint the size of a three-year-old. You didn’t mind it as much as you thought it would. It only reminded you of your son.

“Hands up.” Kaito held his arms above his head as you pulled on his laces. You looked at Touya as you tied them. Touya leaned forward and held his hand up, all fingers down except for his pinkie. Almost like a pinkie promise. You and Kaito both stared at his hand as his pinkie caught aflame. It looked like a little blue birthday candle. Kaito’s eyes lit up like his hands, a giant grin pulling at his cherub cheeks.

”Woah! Do you have fire too? It’s blue! That’s so cool!” Kaito said, his little hand reaching out for Touya’s. Touya and you both moved faster than light. Touya shot his hand away, the fire extinguishing, and his arm held far away from curious hands. You pushed Kaito’s hand away, sending it back to his side. Kaito looked confused, facing you.

“His fire is very very hot, Kaito. It’ll hurt if you touch it.” You explained, pulling the Velcro strap of his shoe over the top of his foot. Kaito hummed, fiddling with his hands over his stomach. You stood up, Touya following. Kaito looked over your shoulder at the clock and then down at the graph you had under it with a picture of the hands and what step in your routine it meant. Kaito gasped, rushing away from you for his bedroom. You smiled awkwardly towards Touya.

“Is he mine?” Touya whispered, his tone unsure if he was ready for the answer. You watched Kaito pull his jacket on before slinging his backpack on. His coat was just a little too big for him. It kissed the tips of his knees and every time you saw it you thought of Touya and his jacket hanging on your coat rack.

“Yeah, he's yours.” you wanted it to come out with strong conviction.

‘Yes, Touya he's yours what are you going to do about it.’

‘No Touya he's mine but he's genetically related to you, yes.’

‘What do you want from this information, Touya'?

‘Get off my property Touya. Kaito isn't your problem’

All those months you spent planning how you'd beat him to pulp when you finally saw him again fell apart the second you looked into his eyes. Maybe that was Kaito's effect on you or maybe it was just the effect Touya always had on you.

Touya nodded like he was accepting his fate, watching Kaito run up to you with your shoes. Usually, you didn't have your baby daddy standing on your front porch and you could get your own shoes. You pulled your shoes on quickly, keeping an eye on Kaito as he ran out the door towards the car.

“Why didn't you tell me?” Touya asked, following after you as you locked your door and joined Kaito at the side of the car.

“Not right now, I have to get Kaito to school so he can keep his perfect attendance.” You said, reaching over to pinch Kaito's cheek. He groaned and pushed you away, throwing his backpack into the backseat. Kaito pulled himself into his booster seat and buckled his seatbelt. You smiled at him, pecking his cheek and muttering praises to him.

Touya stood behind you, watching the whole ordeal and wishing he hadn't lost the first five years of his son's life. He didn't get to watch Kaito grow from a carrier that locked into the base to a car seat with a back to a booster seat. He didn't even know Kaito's favorite color. He didn't know anything about him. So with all that stirring in his mind, he whispered the one full sentence he could piece together.

“Can I come too?” You pulled away from Kaito, looking back at Touya. He looked scolded. His shoulders were slumped and he was clasping his hands together at his stomach. He stared at you with wide eyes. You remembered when you grounded Kaito for trying to sneak out of the house at night. He wanted to go to the park, you had to explain that the park was something you visited during the day. He was sad at being grounded.

“Yes! Rena, can he come? He can tell me at his fire! And his scars, they're so cool!” Kaito kicked his feet, thumping them against the back of the passenger seat. Your heart stalled at the mention of Touya's scars.

“Kaito. Don't say-” you scolded only to pause when a warm hand rested on your shoulder. You had forgotten how warm Touya was. You missed not needing to pull your space heater from storage. You stared at Touya, eyes wild with concern. He shook his head, lips pressed in a tight line.

“It's fine.” He muttered. You looked back over to Kaito who looked more than joyous to bring his new friend to school. You sighed, shrugging and moving for the front seat.

“Get in.” You said, sliding into the driver's side. Touya quickly shut Kaito's door and slid in on the other side of the back seat.

The entire drive you felt strange. You didn't like having your back to their interaction. A part of you worried Touya was teaching Kaito how to roll a blunt. Or maybe how to set your fire in your sleep. Maybe he was still bitter from the letter and all this was an act.

The moment Kaito laughed so hard he started wheezing you took back all the negative thoughts you had about Touya. Kaito leaned over into Touya's lap, patting his leg as he wheezed. Touya chuckled with him, a relaxed smile on his face. He gently patted Kaito's back, turning his pat into a rub. Kaito sucked in a gasp of air before it quickly danced behind his teeth and transformed into another laugh. Touya panicked, a new worry that he was doing this all wrong, already turning into his father. His eyes shot to yours in the rearview mirror. You didn't catch them, focused on the road. He saw your smile and small laugh and felt his shoulders relax.

Kaito had a hard time saying goodbye to his new friend in the school parking lot. Kaito complained and quickly latched onto Touya's arm, pressing his cheek into his scarred flesh. Touya patted his mop of white hair and wished him a good day. Kaito seemed to accept that, launching himself into the front seat to hug you goodbye with his arms around your neck. Kaito glanced over at the clock on the screen in the center of the dashboard. He muttered something and rushed out of the car, jogging towards the crosswalk. You and Touya watched as he was walked to the door by one of his teachers.

You both sat in silence and stare at the door even after Kaito is long gone. Touya left the back seat and plopped himself into the passenger side next to you. You wanted to pull yourself out of your head and face him, but your eyes were glued to the door.

It's been a long time since he was a baby. The first few months were hell on Earth. Everything sent you into an anxious spiral, his breaths were one second too long apart. You worried he was getting too much tummy time. You worried he wasn't getting enough tummy time. You worried about his diet. You worried about the sound of his cries. You worried about his number of cries. You worried about the cradle cap. You worried about SIDs. You worried sick over your son.

To make matters worse, you worried sick over his father. The first year and then some you wracked your brain thinking about him. Where was he? What was he doing? How was he feeling? What state was his body in? Could he still feel? What was he feeling about you? Had he already moved on, found a cute doctor, or something? Was he too far gone and close to death that he didn't even have the time to consider things like that? Why hadn't he said something to you yet? Would he even like you still? Would he even like your son? Would he even want to know if he has a son or would ignorance be bliss for him?

“He is so…” Touya's voice fell like he wasn't sure the word to choose. You knew how the man from five years ago would respond.

By the time you had finally settled your anxieties over your son's father, Kaito taking up all your capacity for worries, his letter arrived at your door.

You stared at the door to his school, the brightly painted sidewalk making you feel warm. Touya was next to you now, staring at the same school. You knew where he was, what he looked like, the state of his body, his thoughts on you, and what he was doing. You could hear his breathing in your silent car. You knew it all and yet, you still worried for him. You wanted him to touch you again. His hand on your shoulder sparked something that went dormant after five years.

Annoying.

Gross.

Snotty.

Clingy.

Sticky.

“beautiful.” Touya finished. You felt the air in your car slip out the window. You dragged your eyes from the school door, looking at him. He wasn't looking at you, staring at the school. You furrowed your eyebrows. That word you had not expected at all. You thought you'd have to drive Touya home in silence and fully cut contact this time.

Have you had him tested yet? for anything because that child is just-

“What?” you said, staring at the side of his face. Touya looked at you, finally meeting your eyes. Your shoulders sank. He unfortunately always had this affect on you.

“Your son is so beautiful. He’s just like you. I look at him and all I see is you. Kaito is just…” His eyes traveled back to the door Kaito had disappeared through. You wouldn't see him again for a good six hours.

“I can't explain it but he's just so perfect. I just don't understand how such a sweet person could have anything to do with me. Which is how I felt about you all those years ago. He is a carbon copy of you, you know that?” Touya said, a small smile playing on his lips. He sighed and stared at you, watching your face.

“He is beautiful.” You paused, keeping your eyes on Touya. You stared at Kaito some nights when he was asleep in your bed from a nightmare and only saw a chubbier and less scarred version of Touya's face staring at you.

“He looks like you,” you muttered, starting your car again. Touya sat back in the passenger seat, pulling the seat belt down.

“I have photo albums at home. Would you like to see?” you asked as you pulled out the school driveway back towards your home. Touya rubbed at his face. He quickly nodded.

“Yes, I would,” Touya whispered, looking out the window.

#bnha touya #mha touya #touya x reader #touya todoroki #touya todoroki x reader #touya todoroki x you #touya x you #bnha dabi #mha dabi #dabi x reader #dabi #mha x reader #mha #bnha x reader #bnha #sorry its so long #there probably will be a second part ngl

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hivemuthur · 23 hours ago

Text

Nothing's New - Ch.6.

viktorxfemale!reader explicit!

AU modern era, lovers to enemies to lovers, getting back together, angst & smut present

Ch.1. | Ch.2. | Ch.3. | Ch.4. | Ch.5.

word count: 8,8K (sorry!)

warnings: angst, unsafe sex, dacryphilia, spanking, d/s undertones

tag: #nothings new

author's note: It's Sunday where I am lol. No real notes, just thank you for coming with me on this journey, it's very weird to bear your soul like this and people reacting well, never happened to me before. Moments like this, I love internet. @rennethen beta read 🖤

Cross-posted on AO3

—

It took a long time for you to part on Sunday evening. You stood in the hallway, arms wrapped around Viktor, his arms wrapped around you, and only the sound of breathing surrounded you both. He pulled away first, placed a hand on your cheek, and said, “Think about everything. And let me know.”

You nodded, and a question—the answer to which you so desperately needed—was resolved before you even mustered the courage to ask.

“Come on Friday. I’ll text in the meantime? Or call?”

“I would like that,” you admitted with a relieved sigh, and Viktor offered you a kiss on the forehead. When you finally stepped out through his door, he lingered in the frame until the lift swallowed you.

The week passed in a diluted blur of working, eating, and sleeping, interrupted by little earthquakes in the form of Viktor’s messages and brief calls. Nothing with significant push or pressure—just simple, casual chats that let you know he hadn’t forgotten you, and made sure you wouldn’t forget either. And each one made your face beam in a way that earned you silly and curious “Who is that?” questions, until you were red-faced with a juvenile blush.

It happened every time your phone buzzed. You’d be in the middle of scanning through data, only half-listening to a coworker’s offhand remark, when you’d catch a glimpse of his name on the screen, and suddenly, the rest of the world blurred at the edges.

I am convinced my students are attempting to end me. I asked one of them to justify their methodology, and they said, “I just had a feeling.”

A barely suppressed laugh slipped out before you could stop it. You masked it with a cough, ignoring the glance your colleague shot you from across the table.

Another time, you’d been elbow-deep in paperwork, eyes dry from staring at the screen too long, when your phone lit up with another text:

I hope your day is going well. Eat something before you get grumpy.

You scoffed but still reached for the protein bar you’d left untouched beside your laptop.

And then there were the messages that made your stomach turn weightless, that left you pressing your lips together to fight off a giddy, ridiculous smile.

I dreamt of you last night. It was... pleasant.

It was impossible to focus after that. You stared at your screen for a full five minutes, rereading the words like they might change or disappear. Your mind whirred with possibilities, until the sound of your name snapped you back to reality and you scrambled to act as if your brain hadn’t just short-circuited.

Not once had he asked what you were thinking. Not once had he pushed beyond a sweet Goodnight call in the evening and a Good morning text when you woke up. It made the days more bearable, but it also made new questions rise. Is this trust already? Or just caution?

You faltered on Wednesday, when there was no message to greet you. And then no message to remind you to drink water.

You told yourself it was fine. That he was probably just busy. That this wasn’t some sort of test. But by lunchtime, the silence had settled too deep, turning over thoughts you didn’t want to examine. What if he’d changed his mind? What if he was waiting for you to make the next move? Or worse—what if this was a quiet way of pulling away? Your sanity was wearing thin.

You weighed your options, over and over. If you texted and he didn’t answer, would calling be too much? If you called first and he didn’t pick up, at least you could still send a text after. But would that make you seem desperate?

It took another ten minutes of pacing before you finally pressed the call button, cringing at the way your heart was thundering in your chest. The dial tone felt impossibly loud. One ring. Two. Three—

“Hello?”

And just like that, the breath you hadn’t realised you were holding slipped out of you. “Hi! Oh, um… why are you whispering?” You blurted out the words in a rush, voice pitched higher than you intended.

There was a pause, followed by Viktor’s voice, low and steady, tinged with quiet amusement. “I’m in the middle of a lecture—”

“Oh shit, Viktor, I’m so sorry!” you gasped and started to whisper yourself, as if the class could hear you. You winced, clasped your hand to your forehead and hoped that Viktor didn’t hear the sound of the slap.

“—but I am happy to hear you,” he continued smoothly, the warmth in his tone easing some of the tension gripping your chest. “Let me call you after?”

And he did. And you talked about nonsense until Jayce caught Viktor twirling his hair, hunched over his desk like he was trying to hide.

This was your week—full of insignificant, annoying events that conglomerated into something called life, interrupted by small Viktor moments. And for Viktor, it was small you moments.

And even though a massive weight had been lifted off your chest during that session of helpless sobbing on the couch, nuzzled into Viktor’s neck, you still feel a pang of guilt each time you replay the events of last weekend in your head. It’s hard to pinpoint where it comes from, but it’s ever-present.

Now that it’s Friday, finally, you write it down on a piece of paper filled with bullet points for later this evening. Absolutely convinced you won’t use it, you still write every single invasive thought down—just in case you gather the courage to tell him.

Before leaving, you make a few critical last-minute decisions—hair up or down, skirt or trousers, or a dress? Makeup or none? Take extra underwear, or not tempt fate to make a joke out of you?

You end up in a dress, with no makeup, your hair gathered into a loose updo, and a wishful-thinking extra pair of knickers stuffed into your purse.

You walk to make yourself less giddy. You stop to buy some food for later, glancing nervously at your watch, only to see that you are, in fact, too early. Sitting on a bench to read is futile—you just end up staring at your phone, willing the time to pass.

And when you finally, finally buzz his door, it’s like last time—you are immediately let in, without him checking the intercom. But this time, you almost run to the elevator, jabbing the button over and over for the doors to close and carry you upward. When you step out, Viktor is already waiting by the entrance to his flat, greeting you with a quiet, sweet, “Hi,” as soon as he sees you.

You open your mouth, but nothing comes out at first, not even the breathless hi yourself you’ve prepared. The week of waiting, of uncertainty, of second-guessing every moment—was it real? Was he real? Or was this just a fragile illusion, something too good to hold? The part of you that has spent too long in doubt tugs at your resolve, asking if you’re just imagining the warmth in his voice, the way he’s looking at you like he wants you here.

But then his fingers brush against yours as he plucks the bag from your hand, and the heat of his touch travels up your arm, quieting the noise in your head. The doubts don’t stand a chance once his hands slide up your thighs, wrapping around your waist, anchoring you to him. Your back thuds lightly against the door as he kisses you. You don’t even get a proper look at him before his mouth is on yours, his hand pulling your updo apart, fingers tangling into your hair.

Your palms clutch at his shirt and slide up his neck, pulling him closer. He muffles a quiet ah against your lips when you tug his hair and nip at his lower lip. His hips press into you, your chests flush together, and he breathes in deeply, catching up with your scent—the one he’s been missing for five days.

When he finally pulls away, he says again, “I said hi.”

“Hi yourself,” you reply, smiling sheepishly against him. You brush your thumbs over his beauty marks, and his eyes flutter closed. Your foreheads touch. Viktor looks relieved.

“I missed you,” he says, feeling stupid for admitting it—five days is nothing compared to the six months you spent apart, yet it still felt like agony. “You smell nice,” he adds, nosing at your neck, his lips curling up at the sensation of goosebumps rising under his touch.

“Thank you,” you whisper, dumbfounded by this unfiltered flood of affection. Viktor chuckles, realizing he’s overwhelming you. He moves away, and you would protest—if not for the fact that he’s still holding your hand. You squeeze it tightly, letting him lead you into the kitchen, where you watch him make tea.

“So,” Viktor starts, setting a cup in front of you before taking the seat opposite. “How was your week?”

“I—” Horrible. A blur. A very long blur. Long. Painful. “Painfully long,” you finally huff out with a chuckle, feeling the warmth of a blush creeping up your neck. You lower your gaze to your fidgeting fingers, and soon, in the periphery of your vision, Viktor’s hands creep in, cradling yours across the table.

“And why would that be?” he asks quietly. You don’t have to look up to know his eyes will be hooded and his mouth quirked into a sweet smile.

With a pained sigh, you pull your hands back, stand up, and in a heartbeat, you’re kneeling between his legs, resting your head on his lap, arms wrapping around his hips.

“And whatever is that for?” Viktor giggles, startled by your clinginess, unaware of the quiet, pathetic truth that you feel safest like this—between his legs, wrapped in his warmth. You breathe in the scent of his clothes and whisper, “You smell nice too. I missed you too.”

He places a hand on your head, fingers threading gently through your hair, and you inch your hands toward his belt. Slowly, his palm comes to rest over yours, halting your movement. When you lift your gaze to meet his, Viktor almost melts into a puddle at the sight of you—kneeling at his feet, eyes pleading—but he has to ask, “What is this about?”

“I just really missed you,” you say quietly, fingers twitching at his fly. “May I?”

He studies you for a moment, swipes his thumb over your lips and says a breathless, “Yes,” reinforced with a nod. And then his eyes glue to your fingers undoing his belt and tugging at his pants to slide them down all the way to his ankles, to finally discard them. And then—

Viktor’s breath hitches, but you cannot help yourself. You press your face to his boxers, breathing in his scent and it’s a gesture so full of adoration, he whimpers despite himself. You unroll his waistband and kiss him softly with your mouth open, leaving a slick trail all the way up from his base to the tip. He is still soft, his skin is warm and silky, and he shudders at each and every one of your pecks.

You slide his underwear down and make your way up, starting by kissing his knee, up his inner thigh, to finally take his balls into your mouth and hum at the contact. Viktor’s fingers curl in your hair, his legs straighten out in front of him, head falls back, and he gives out a deep, long moan.

It’s almost crushing to feel so worshipped. You’re being so gentle with him—it reminds him of your first time together. Back when things were easy, full of possibilities. Now, things are a little harder, but the possibilities keep slipping back in, one by one, with each passing minute.

He sags in the chair, eyes glazed, and cheeks reddened when he looks down to you—rubbing your face against his cock with reverence that makes him want to pull you up and kiss you until you can’t breathe. And you hum, and kiss and lick off his pre-cum for the longest time before you give him as much as an actual proper lick to his underside, tracing the prominent vein with the tip of your tongue. And Viktor twitches and writhes under your touch, his cock resting heavily across your face.

When you finally take him into your mouth he shudders, his legs jolt and he scolds himself for acting like he’s being touched for the first time. But after a second, he decides he feels safe enough—to let you touch him like this, to give you this power over him. And as if you catch that split-second hesitation in the way he tastes, you release him with a quiet pop and ask gently, “Is this alright?”

“More than alright,” Viktor slurs, his thumb sweeping over your lip again. The string of drool connecting his cock to your mouth now clings to his hand. He leaves it. “Please, don’t stop,” he adds, a blush creeping beneath his shirt.

With a smile, and God help him, another hum, you take him back in, placing your hand on whatever you can’t fit into your mouth. Viktor sighs, the sensation of being enveloped in warmth flooding over him, when you do something that nearly makes him come on the spot—your hand flattens at the base of his cock and you push him past your throat, releasing a fresh wave of spit to drip down his length, while you gag, and the sound makes him go insane. He looks down, and oh, there it is—the first tear you shed today as you disconnect from him to catch a breath and stroke him with a slow movement of your wrist.

It’s a small tear that dries out somewhere in the middle of its journey between the corner of your eye and your chin, but it’s there nevertheless and Viktor commits it to memory. So when you kiss his tip again and open your mouth for him, he cradles your face and gives you one, languid roll of his hips. He stops to ask, “Can I?”

Your eyes flutter open, then closed, then open again. You nod, mumbling a sound as close to yes as you can manage with your mouth full, and you hope Viktor won’t retreat because you don’t want to lose the feeling of his hands cradling you and the feeling of his cock pulsing between your lips.

And, oh God, he takes it as it is. And he gives it back to you, with another thrust, careful and slow, his mouth falls open and eyes are fixed on yours. You see the vein in his neck pulsing, and you take your quick breaths through your nose each time he retreats to push back again. His cock keeps hitting the back of your throat, gently, just a touch, just enough to make your thighs clench and your knuckles go white on his thighs.

And you watch him becoming progressively prettier and prettier as sweat pearls up on his forehead and his mouth loses restraint with all the sounds he is giving you. “My good girl,” he keeps whispering. “Fuck, you are so good,” falls out next. “I love you so much, I missed this so much,” is your favourite one and makes your heart jump all the way up to meet the head of his cock in your throat.

He pants out your name, his grip tightening and the last thing that tips him over is when he sweeps your hair away from your neck to gather it in his fist. And he sees them, his own fingertips already yellowing on your skin, a faint memoir of bruises that were once there, from when he had forced you to look him in the eye while you admitted to still loving him.

“Oh, fuck,” is all Viktor can say as he spasms between your lips and spills himself inside and over, even though he wants to tell you how amazing it feels. How amazing you are, how amazing it is to fuck your mouth. How amazing it is that you shed another tear for him and that you swallowed almost all of his cum, and to convey it, he pulls you up just as he wanted earlier.

And you sit across his lap where he is still warm from your touch. And his mouth is on yours, and oh, it’s almost like the first time. The taste of him still lingers heavily on your tongue and he sucks on it with love and care and gratitude, humming and licking into you, caressing your hair and your shoulders. He kisses you like you are worthy of redemption. Finally his head falls into the crook of your neck, skin clings to skin, as he mutters, “Thank you.”

"You taste just as I remember," you say absently, the words bouncing off the shell of Viktor’s ear. Just when he thinks he cannot possibly come undone any further, you take him apart.

"What have I done to deserve this?" Viktor asks weakly, and you huff a quiet laugh at how dramatic he’s being over a blowjob. You take his face in your hands, guiding his gaze to meet yours.

"There are things I have no idea how to tell you. But you deserve this every day," you whisper, resting your forehead against his.

Viktor sits there, dumbfounded, with you perched over his naked lap, foreheads touching, his pants and underwear crumpled in the middle of the kitchen. And as if your thoughts have seeped from your mind into his, understanding dawns.

"Is this your way of repenting?" he asks, trying to catch your gaze.

You say nothing, only scrunch your nose.

"Hey, look at me, please," Viktor says firmly, his fingers tilting your chin up. The warmth of his touch is steady, grounding, but not forceful. His eyes search yours, full of something unknown. "What are you trying to atone for?"

"For… everything," you sigh, pressing yourself down until you sag against him, your body moulding into his like you could dissolve there. The warmth of his skin on yours should be comforting, but it only makes the ache deeper, and you wince at your inability to express yourself.

"And yet, there is nothing," Viktor replies without hesitation. His fingers remain at your chin, keeping your gaze locked to his, as if he won’t allow you to look away, won’t allow you to slip into this spiral.

"Viktor—"

"I do mean it," he interrupts, his voice unwavering. "I do not want any of this. We start anew, sins not forgotten but cleansed. We learn, and we start over. Nothing to repent for."

"But—"

His other hand tightens around your waist, a small squeeze that grounds. "What do you feel?" he asks, softer now, but still insistent. "You have to tell me."

You hesitate. The words feel thick in your throat, soaked in self-doubt. "I—" You inhale sharply, then admit, "I feel shame. Or guilt. Or both, all the same."

"And whatever for?" Viktor presses, patient, his thumb brushing idly over your skin, a subconscious motion of reassurance.

"For how this went before, Viktor," you say, voice strained. "I see it now, and I just can’t—"

His brows pull together in concern, but he doesn’t let you trail off into silence. "What do you need to get over this?" Ever the problem-solver.

You huff out a mirthless chuckle, the sound brittle. "I don’t know. Punishment?" you say, half-joking, half-serious, but the weight in your chest doesn’t lighten. A punishment seems fitting. The insistent heat of tears pricks at your eyes, and you try to blink them away.

"I don’t think you deserve that," Viktor says immediately, voice firm, as if the thought alone is ridiculous. His hand moves to swipe the tear from beneath your eye while he does his best to remain unaffected.

"Hey—" He moves in by an inch, your stuttering breath fanning over his face. "I really don’t," he murmurs, quieter now, more to himself than to you. His grip tightens, like he needs to keep you close to not break. "We’ve changed, and it’s alright. Oh, God," he exhales, as his thumb swipes the tear from your cheek and his expression shifts from worry to adoration in an instant.

Your brows furrow, confused. "What?"

A flicker of hesitation crosses his face. He swallows. "I have my share of shame in me as well, love."

Your stomach twists at the admission. "What? Why?"

He exhales sharply, pressing his forehead to yours. His voice drops lower, as if he is giving away his best-guarded secret. "I… seem to enjoy it when you cry," he admits. "Not in the sense of enjoying your suffering," he clarifies quickly, "but somehow, being cried for, or in front of, makes me feel… loved."

"Oh, Viktor," you whisper and pull away, your hands moving instinctively to cup his face. His skin is warm beneath your touch, the sharp angles of his cheekbones softening under your fingers. "I am doing a terrible job with love confessions if you have to seek confirmation like this," you mumble, a self-deprecating huff of a laugh dancing under your nose.

Viktor shakes his head, pressing his forehead against yours again, unwilling to let you part. "I disagree. I felt just as loved a minute ago." Then he exhales, long and slow. "I think… it’s just a byproduct of everything," he says carefully. "A change." He pauses, then asks, voice softer, "Does it repulse you?"

"Of course not," you answer instantly, faster than a blink. Your thumbs brush over his cheekbones, gentle, reverent. "You could never repulse me."

His eyes flutter shut for a moment, like he’s soaking in your words, like they’re something sacred. When he opens them again, there’s a softness in his gaze that crushes you completely. "The feeling is mutual," he murmurs.

He studies you for a moment longer before speaking again. "So tell me—what do you need to overcome your shame?"

And you hesitate again. It still lingers. Creeps up to coil somewhere around your throat and you can’t possibly bring yourself to say this, can you? The most obvious stupid cliché. Not because of the act itself, but because of the nature of it. Because of the reason for it. You crave to shed it, to start anew, to get all dressed up in your fresh new skin, old one feeling to tight around your bones. But this is Viktor. And of all people, he’s the one you would ask.

So you lean in to whisper your undisclosed desire straight into his ear. "Spank me."

Viktor stills, his mouth falls open, and he covers it with his hand. Not in shock—just to think. He doesn’t let the moment linger, as his brain works fast. He cups your cheeks and sweeps his thumbs under your eyes. Takes a deep breath.

"This is your wish?"

You nod, lowering your gaze and fixing it on the space between you, but Viktor tsks at you. "I will need you to use your words for this and all the way through. Is this what you want, for sure?"

"Yes," you answer, quietly, but audibly enough for Viktor to accept.

"Alright," he says firmly, then smiles and places a kiss on the corner of your mouth, sweet and lingering. "Will you pass me my pants?"

You huff out a laugh but scramble up from his lap, helping him get roughly dressed—underwear left in the kitchen—when he leads you back to the bedroom. And it’s all so very sweet. He leans on you, just like last time. Kisses your cheek and neck all the way through. You manage not to look at the empty spaces this time.

He leads you to the bed, where he sits down, and you don’t know what to do with yourself. Holding your hand, he guides you to sit beside him. Without question, you do, heart all the way up in your throat.

"Alright, let’s go over this, yes?" Viktor states, as if this is a project. Safety rules, roadmap, scientific approach. He gives your thigh a gentle squeeze and smiles softly. "I will check how you are doing constantly. If you tell me to stop, I stop immediately. If, for whatever reason, you don’t feel like you can tell me, you tap my thigh three times. If you don’t like it, we never do this again. If you do, we will explore. What do you think?"

"You don’t think it’s weird?" Do you think I’m weird is truly what gnaws at you, but you can’t bring yourself to ask it. You just look at him, waiting, excited and scared.

"Of course not. Peculiar, at best," Viktor smiles again and places a flurry of kisses on your face. "Do you wish to continue?"

"Yes," you answer with more confidence now.

"Then lay across my lap, please," he says, leaning back, hands still on you—grounding and reassuring.

Air gets momentarily knocked out of your lungs when your belly presses across Viktor’s thighs. He runs a hand down your spine, finding himself strangely excited about this. The trust he asked you for last week now lay splayed across his knees—he couldn’t help but think. All he has to do is indulge you.

His hand slides down, cradling your ass. He lifts the skirt of your dress, draping it over your lower back, and runs his fingers under the hem of your underwear. Gently, soothing you with soft sounds as he does, he pulls your knickers down to your knees. Your face burns, heat prickling across your skin in goosebumps with every touch—nails grazing over the inside of your knee, up your thighs, stopping at your core. He palms your naked skin and hums once he realises you are wet.

“Good,” he murmurs, playing between your legs for a while. Your mouth parts and eyes close, while you give him quiet gasps. He spreads the wetness onto your ass cheeks and cradles your bum one last time before starting. And then, without warning, the first slap lands—firm, of medium strength—but still, you yelp in surprise.

The sensation is alien—it both hurts and doesn’t. With the mild pain comes something else, something fleeting, but you can’t quite grasp what it is. Warmth spreads across your skin, and you dig your fingers into Viktor’s thigh.

Viktor, however, receives something entirely different. Nothing flees him—something grows. Both between his legs and in his chest. He has to take a second before he asks, “How was that?”

“Good,” you reply immediately.

So he continues. Another slap echoes through the room, and Viktor watches as the imprint of his hand whitens against your skin before dissolving into pink a second later. How pretty it looks. He checks in with you again. And again, you encourage him.

Slowly, slap after slap, each one interrupted by Viktor’s questions, you feel lighter, warmer. A strange feeling of relief washes over you. At some point, your skin begins to sting, and even that is welcome. Your mouth loses restraint, and you moan each time Viktor’s palm connects with your ass. Your back arches, ribs pressing into his legs, and you feel a drop of slick rolling down your inner thigh.

So debauched. So pretty, Viktor thinks.

He can’t help himself and runs his fingers down between your legs. Gasps at the wetness pooling there. “More?” He asks, voice breathy, eyes completely transfixed on your reddened skin and he almost drools at the sight. All his doing. His hand did this. This, and the drenched state of your cunt, it’s all him.

“More,” you say weakly. The burn feels good. You feel the doubt seeping out with the warmth radiating from your skin. With each touch, something inside you feels lighter. Bigger. Like there is more of you and less of whatever had been gnawing at you.

Viktor gives you three more slaps, and when your thighs quiver with the last one, his hand comes to rest at the base of your spine. “How is that?” he asks, admiration seeping into his voice.

“I think it’s enough,” you reply in a small voice. His hand returns to your bum, a gentle caress spreading from the tops of your thighs to your hips. Slowly, you rise from his lap, only to straddle him and wrap your arms around his neck.

“Thank you,” you breathe into his skin. Viktor pulls you close, inhaling deeply through his nose.

“Thank you,” he murmurs in return. “Please, lie down on your stomach. I’ll be right back.”

You blink in quiet question but obey. Crawling onto the bed, you curl up on your side, fingers ghosting over the heat still lingering beneath your dress. When Viktor returns, the soft tap of his cane against the floor announces him, and you wonder how he got all the way to the kitchen without it.

“I said on your stomach,” he says gently, placing a hand at the small of your back. You roll over, propping your head on your crossed arms.

“Good girl,” he coos before exposing your reddened ass. The mattress dips on each side of your knees and once again you feel Viktor’s hands on you. Soft, gentle. Callouses gliding over your tired skin with care and love. He presses his face against your cheeks, holding them firmly, hums in appreciation, making your toes curl and your back arch, belly pressing into the bed. Then his mouth joins, as he licks you with a flat tongue. Lips grazing over you, the trail of open mouth kisses spreading all the way from the crease of your ass to the small of your back. You press yourself into him and bury your nose in the sheets, trying to muffle your whimpers.

And then comes the coolness pressing against you, making you wince at the first touch. A cold compress.

“Shh, it’s alright,” Viktor whispers. His free hand comes to thread gently through your hair. You feel safe. Whole. That sense of belonging blooms within you again—stronger this time—and you are so, so glad it’s with Viktor. You sigh and close your eyes.

He lies beside you, his hand running up and down your spine. When you blink, your eyes meet. “How are you feeling?” he asks, and he looks so in love your heart is about to burst.

“Very good,” you say quietly, offering him an honest smile. You turn onto your side to face him, the compress slipping off. “Better. Empty and whole at the same time,” you murmur against his mouth, kissing him with reverence. “You?”

Viktor thinks for a second before answering. "Knowing you trust me enough to let go like this makes me feel irreplaceable," he says finally, and you are left speechless. Because he is. And it feels great that he knows.

“It’s all very new, isn’t it?” you ask finally, and Viktor gazes at you, a soft smile tugging at his lips.

“No,” he murmurs, pulling you closer, your name falling softly from his mouth. “Nothing’s new. It’s still love.”

You nuzzle against his neck and sigh, your eyelashes tickling his skin. The last question gnawing at you slips past your lips before you can catch it.

“Do you hate me less now?”

Viktor scoffs, outright appalled. He pulls you back by the neck, forcing you to look at him, his eyes full of intent as he replies simply, “No.”

Your heart beats only once before stopping entirely. Then Viktor’s expression softens, and he speaks again.

“I never hated you. If anything, I only love you more.”

And your heart resumes beating—hard and erratic. You wrap yourself around him, letting out a shuddering breath. “God, how can this be so good now when we’ve fucked up so badly?”

Viktor picks up what you’ve put down. “Change is inevitable. Sometimes abrupt. Maybe this is where we were supposed to be to get here, miláčku.”

Oh, God. There it is again—dragged up from the pit you were hoping to forget. The one thing that once felt most dear, a treasure Viktor gave freely, only to let it slip into someone else’s hands. Now it’s tarnished, dulled with grime. It doesn’t sound sweet anymore. It tastes bitter, feels wrong. Feels like it doesn’t belong to you.

Your heart drops again. Your voice shrinks to almost nothing as you push him away and plead weakly, “Please, don’t call me that again.” Tears are already pricking at your eyes, and you wonder when you became so quick to cry.

“Wha—Why?” Viktor chuckles, trying to wrap his arms back around you, but you keep your distance, splaying your palms flat against his chest in quiet defiance. And then he sees it.

“Oh, darling. It never happened, I promise you. The note, I—”

“What do you mean?” you ask, as if you don’t already know. Your brows knit together, a tear clinging to your lashes. “It was on the note,” you try again, your voice frail with disbelief. Your lips press into a tight line, and Viktor looks so remorseful that you fear what’s coming next.

“It was on the note,” he says carefully, “because I was fully lying to you.”

It’s so quiet you almost don’t hear him. Your eyes flick between his eyes and his lips, your mouth parting—but nothing comes out. A couple of imaginary pins drop on the floor, the sound echoes in your head.

And then a sob slips through as you blink rapidly, trying to hold back the tears. “No. Viktor, I thought—”

“I’m so sorry.” He tries to cradle you, but you resist. “I knew it was horribly wrong as soon as I saw you that day. I regretted it in an instant, and oh,” he murmurs, pulling you against his chest. He holds you tight through this last, stupid display of jealousy, doing his best to reassure you.

“I would never. I would never call anyone else that. You are the only one, I promise. It’s all yours. Please forgive me. Miláčku, please forgive me,” he pleads, pressing his face into your hair, into the crook of your neck.

You don’t respond—not with words, not yet. Your breath is shaky against his collarbone, your fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt like you need something solid to hold onto. His heart hammers against your ear. You know he’s afraid.

Viktor shifts, pressing a kiss to your temple, lingering like he’s willing you to believe him through touch alone. His hand cradles the back of your head, his thumb brushing small, rhythmic circles at your nape.

“Please,” he whispers again, softer now, like he’s running out of words, running out of ways to reach you. “I promise it’s yours. Forever.”

“How do you know it’s forever?” you ask, voice hollowed out. That would be a gift too good to be true. Yet. You dare to have your hopes up.

Viktor winces. Your body grows pliant against him. He hooks his leg over your hip bone and nestles you close, his arm wrapping under your waist, his palm resting between your shoulder blades. His other hand cradles your cheek, his face inching closer. Your noses press together, and when Viktor speaks his quiet truth, your lips brush.

“Because loving you isn’t a feeling that fleets,” he murmurs, pouring the words into you. “It’s a condition. And I will carry it with me always, no matter what happens between us.”

Your breath hitches, and you shudder. You squeeze your eyes shut, searching for something—anything—to say. But instead, you press your salty lips to his, not in a kiss, just a press. Just to steal a breath from him.

“Come back to me,” he coaxes, his knuckles paling against your skin. “Miláčku, come back to me.”

And Viktor doesn’t really believe in any higher form of consciousness controlling the universe. The only thing he believes in is the void, that we scream into like an echo chamber, questions bouncing back to anyone who’s asking. That we only get one life and have to make the very best of it. He doesn’t believe in God, that he has called upon too many times already in the spirit of figurative speech. But if there was one thing he would pray for, it would be this.

To tether himself to you, bind himself to something real, something beyond the desperate loneliness he’s learned to live with before he’s met you. He’s been waiting and waiting for this love to fleet, and it never fucking did, no matter how hard he’s been trying to squeeze it out of himself. So, instead of praying, he offers himself to you, tries to prove in the only way he knows how that he is yours, that he will always be yours—with his needy hands that chased away your shame, with his loving eyes so honest they pierce right through you, with his hot mouth that needs, needs, needs to suck on you so his lungs could expand, and his heart could beat.

And as if gears slowly begin grinding against each other in your head, you give it all back. You kiss him—deep and messy, snot mingling with drool. Viktor sighs in relief, the taste of your tears on his tongue sealing something unspoken between you. He murmurs sweet things between breaths, hands tangling in your hair, legs hooking you closer. And he needs, needs, needs to show you how much he wants you to come back. How nothing else could ever compare. How the thought of anything else is harrowing and empty.

“So we start over,” you slice through his thoughts, stating more to yourself than to him, as if the matter has nestled in your head securely only just now.

Viktor nods brushing his nose against yours and whispers a quiet, “Yes.”

“Yes,” he says again as his shaky fingers begin to unbutton your dress. “Yes,” he breathes when his thumbs brush under your breasts and palms twitch to cup them. “Yes,” comes another murmur when his tongue meets your skin, tits squeezed together so he can lick between them, and then a moan escapes him as you slide your hands to the nape of his neck and tug at the short hair there.

Your back arches, excited and willing when the sensation of his tongue on you mingles with the sounds he makes echoing in your mind, and you breathe out a needy plea, “Do it again.”

Viktor cocks a brow, hums into your skin as he takes one of your nipples into his mouth, and asks a playful muffled, “Which one?"

“Oh, God, both,” you whine, squeezing your eyes shut and buck your hips against thin air, Viktor’s knee too far for you to reach. Your fingers pull at the base of his skull, and Viktor chuckles, a flush creeping up his body underneath the layers of clothing when he sinks his mouth into your breast and obeys—letting out a quiet, wrecked, “Oh, fuck,” somewhere around your heart.

His thigh finally, finally, comes to your salvation, sneaking between your legs and pressing on your core with a quiet obscene squelch. The thought of a wet stain he will get to see there makes his cock twitch painfully against the half-assed job you did of buttoning up his trousers earlier on. You breath grows short as you rub yourself on him and when a stuttered whimper escapes your mouth, Viktor huffs, “Please, do it again,” through a sharp exhale.

You tug at his hair, forcing him to look at you. "Give me a reason," you whisper in a strangled breath.

Clearly, you have no idea what you’re asking for. The cry that escapes you when his knee retreats is, to say the least, embarrassing. The sound transforms into a quiet gasp, when his hands leave your chest, one finger slides through your slit and Viktor hums, so, so pleased with you, “Baby, look how wet you are.”

“So wet for me, my girl,” he coos, and he sounds almost too grateful as his lips come back to kiss you, and a gush of cold air fans over your nipples. He palms your sickly heat, grinding the heel of his hand against your clit and you blink rapidly as your eyes roll back in your skull. Your hands fumble blindly to unbutton his shirt in a need press yourself flush against him.

And you do a very poor job, jolting and pulling at his buttons whenever Viktor’s hand parts you and his fingers tease your entrance, so his other hand comes to help you, undoing what you can’t with an ease that has you huffing. It’s annoying that he can do two things at once, while you clearly cannot. Your sulking doesn’t last very long, because as soon as his naked chest is free to be roamed, you leech yourself to his collarbone and suck a red glaring love mark into it.

Yours. All yours.

And Viktor slips, figuratively and literally, as his head instinctively falls back to grant you full access to his neck and his two fingers push inside you, where you are so, so hot it almost burns him. As if the mark on his neck wasn’t red enough, you bite on it, trying to muffle a groan. Viktor has nothing to muffle his groan on, so you can feel it crawling up his throat and vibrating under your lips.

When his fingers push in further, the only gesture you can muster is to hook your hands over the waistband of his trousers, mouth choking on his neck. You pull his pants down and he hisses as the material hooks over his cock before it springs back to slap heavily against his lower abdomen. You try to distract yourself by sliding your palms flat up and down the slope of his sharp hips, but it’s futile once Viktor buries his fingers knuckle deep and curls them brushing the sensitive spot within you. He twitches as you moan. Precum leaks out of his slit. No thoughts cross your head, only impressions. Only want and need.

You can’t decide which one it is—want or need—when your fingers wrap around his length and rub whatever weeps at the tip all over the head. He’s silky and heavy in your hand as you trace your favourite vein with the tip of your finger.

“Oh, God,” Viktor whimpers to the imaginary being again, pumping you with a stuttering rhythm of his wrist. Feeling every crevice of your cunt, he pulls you in for a kiss and you no longer know where he ends, and you begin. Attached by the mouth, his hand deep inside you, your needy wanting hands on him, just drawing gasps and moans from each other.

He has to retreat to pull his pants further down and has an audacity to chuckle when you whine in protest. His hand leaves you drawing a wet sound and your thighs fall back together with a sticky smack. “So impatient,” he hums, while doing a shitty job of undressing himself, kicking off one leg of his pants, while the other still entangles around his calf. He hooks his freed leg over your hip, takes his cock from you and aligns it at your entrance. You are completely wrapped around each other—leg pressing on leg, arms hooked around necks, fingers adding to already damp hair.

“Do you want me?” he asks, pressing his cock against your clit, hard. You tie up into thousands of knots, trying to suck him in by the force of your sheer will when you see the question is honest. He really wants to know. Eyes pensive, hooded, mouth parted. So you kiss this mouth, bite his lips until he hisses and breathe into him, “I want you, fuck, I want you.”

A silent moan rips through him, as he enters you, inch after painful inch until you can feel every ridge, every vein, every pulse of his cock against your walls. At this point you are just clashing mouths and teeth in something that once was a kiss. He fills more of you than was empty as you lose control of the clenching and unclenching of your own muscles. A quiet ah falling from him dies in the sound of a slap as your hips slot together.

He stills for a moment, buried deep, and you swear you can feel his pulse inside you, thrumming in time with your own. Chest to chest, forehead to forehead, he exhales heavily through his nose, his grip on you tightening. And then he moves.

Your mouth falls open so wide your jaw aches, breaths intermingle, brows knit together. Viktor's hands anchor around your ass as he thrusts into you, slow and deep, each movement pounding the shape of his cock into your core. You arch against him, offering yourself, giving him everything you have. Your fingers twist in his hair, and the moment you tug, he groans—a low, breathy sound that coils something filthy at the base of your spine as your skin slaps against his.

And Viktor feels himself melting against your lips, inside you, as your walls squeeze tighter and tighter around him. He loses control of his hands—they just roam, fisting at your dress, kneading the soft flesh of your thighs as he sinks deeper, hitting a spot that has you gasping hiccupped breaths straight into his mouth. He pants, struggling not to be the one who falls first, trying not to look, not to think about your clumped eyelashes, the tears that he is fucking out of you. He tries not to think about how every slap of his hips against yours must echo across your poor ass, how pleasure and pain must be bleeding together inside you.

But it just feels so fucking good for you. Every roll of his hips is a reminder of how his fingers sank into your skin not long ago, heat pouring out of you in waves. You don’t move anymore—it’s only Viktor’s sloppy, determined thrusts guiding you toward the edge. You cross your eyes to focus on his parted lips, the beauty marks dusting his cheek and lip, and when his breath fans over your face, you let your lashes flutter closed, surrendering to it. Letting it build, slow and aching, every deep stroke tightening the coil inside you until you’re cramping around him.

“Fuck,” Viktor pants as you curl into him, whining his name into the crook of his neck, fighting the urge to bite down on his tendon. Your thighs squeeze tight around him, and your cunt grips him like a vice, milking him as you finally break apart. You spasm and clench around him, neck wrenched and jaw tight as you try to catch a breath through your silent shout and it’s almost impossible for Viktor to move in the tightness you’ve created. His sweat drips onto your cheeks, and, at last, he can stop holding back.

He curls his arms around you and rolls you over, pressing you down with his weight. Adding gravity to every snap of his hips, his stomach cramps more and more with each desperate thrust as he fucks you through the aftershocks, chasing his own undoing. His mouth hangs open against yours when he holds you tight enough for his fingertips to whiten, bruises already threatening to bloom where he grips. “I’m so close,” he whispers on a breath, and you thought it impossible, but you clench even tighter at the sound of his strained voice. And when he cums, it’s with a wrenched-out grunt, his head buried in your neck, his body trembling against you.

A few stuttering jolts of his hips, spilling his seed deep inside you, and the sensation of being filled, of being utterly his, has you moaning one last time, spent and breathless. Eyes unseeing, mouth touching mouth when he falls on top of you and just stays.

And then, nothing, for a moment, only your damp stomachs rising and falling against each other.

Until Viktor is the one to move first. He pulls out, his cum spilling from you onto the sheets with a wet spurt, and rolls onto his back, hiding his face in the crook of his elbow. A shuddery breath escapes him as he presses a hand to his chest.

“Viktor?” you say softly, gliding an open palm over his stomach.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what—” he croaks, then pulls you in, guiding your head to rest against his chest. His heart pounds beneath your ear, his breath uneven, and when you lift your chin to look at him, you catch the glistening trail of a tear slipping down his cheek, barely visible.

And Viktor has no idea what came over him. He has no idea whether this is a stupid way of paying back his debt to you or is it just a surge of affection that he cannot hold in, but it feels strangely freeing to pour all this fear into a wet breath. Or maybe his fucked out brain just can’t keep up with the bliss, he doesn’t know.

Gently, you tug his arm away from his face, nuzzling into him as you whisper, “It’s okay. You’re okay.” You press a soft kiss to his lips, and he exhales shakily, like he’s been holding something in for far too long. And to come undone like this is completely unlike for Viktor. You are fairly sure you’ve never seen him cry before, though you’ve heard the legends. And now they all come true, before your very eyes and even though you feel nothing close to arousal watching him spill his emotions over, the feeling you do have in your chest is about to make it burst, nevertheless.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, kissing you back through an embarrassed chuckle. “I guess something is new after all.”

“Don’t apologize, please,” you whisper, nuzzling your nose into the hollow of his cheek. “I love this.”

Viktor offers a smile and a squeeze to your neck. Wordlessly, you fall into each other, arms tightening, bodies entwining. The roam of your hands slowly dying to settle on each other’s hollows. The scent of sweat and warmth heavy between you, intermingling, blending—just as you do.

And even though all of this looks hurried and disorganised—your dress half undone, his pants tangled around one leg, brace slid down from his knee, shirt twisted around him, cold compress melting away, dampening his sheets—it feels right. And as you rest against him, your heart slowing in tandem with his, you think of how this is both familiar and new. How you’ve shed the bad and kept the good. How it’s all very fucking new and exciting and frightening, but it’s good, because it’s with Viktor.

At some point, the sun has set as you both drift into sleep. Heavy breaths, calm, bodies still half-clothed. Your dress has rolled all the way up, exposing your lower half, and Viktor, with sleep-ridden hands, pulls it down before throwing a blanket over you both. No dreams interrupt you, only the damp cloister of your shared aftermath.

He’s closed his eyes a second ago, and when he opens them again, the night has turned into a blue morning. No sun yet, but the dark already pales. Carefully, he shuffles from between your legs, pressing the soles of his feet to the wooden floor, blindly reaching for his cane. Then, takes a long breath. His knee is aching—a faint, but present feeling. Slightly annoying. Managable.

He discards his pants to the floor, the outline of the fly buttons pressed into the skin of his calf after clinging to it the whole night. He glances over his shoulder—you, fast asleep, hair clumped into a tangled mess spilling over his pillow. Mouth open, soft breaths coming in and out, the faintest sound nestling in his mind. His hand hovers over your cheek as he dusts away a stray eyelash. Moments pass as he just looks.

Quietly, he stands and expands himself into a slow stretch. Breathes out long and heavy. Then, half-naked, walks toward the kitchen. And there—his underwear on the floor. Two cups resting on the table. He puts his cup in the sink and reaches for yours—half-drunk tea, a once-wet, now dried-out ring left behind. He smiles.

Nothing’s new, comes the thought.

He drinks your cold tea and puts the kettle on.

#viktor arcane #viktor x reader #viktor fanfic #viktor x reader smut #viktor x f!reader #arcane #viktor smut #arcane fanfic #my writing #ao3 #ao3 fanfic #viktor x oc #viktor nation #nothings new

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hisfavegirl · 3 days ago

Text

Jacaerys Velaryon Clavin Klein Campaign.

Your eyes narrowed as you stared at the screen, heart pounding in your chest.

Jace had just posted his Calvin Klein campaign, and it was everywhere. Black-and-white shots, his toned abs, the way his jeans hung way too low on his hips—and worst of all, the damn smirk on his face like he knew exactly what he was doing to you.

The comments were blowing up.

“OMG Jace is actually unreal.”

“This man has NO business looking this good.”

“I need a moment. Or ten.”

“I’m on my knees, literally.”

Your jaw clenched.

“Oh, so this is what we’re doing now?” you muttered under your breath, fuming.

Jace was in the kitchen, casually scrolling through his phone, completely unbothered.

You stormed in, phone in hand, and slammed it down on the counter.

“Really, Jace? Really?”

He looked up, blinking innocently. “What?”

You gestured aggressively at your phone. “This. This thirst trap you just posted for the entire world to drool over.”

Jace’s lips twitched like he was trying not to smirk. “Babe, it’s just a campaign—”

“Just a campaign?” you scoffed. “You’re half-naked, Jace! Everyone and their mother is in your comments talking about how they wanna climb you like a tree!”

Jace chuckled, leaning on the counter. “You jealous, baby?”

Your eyes flashed. “Oh, so now you’re enjoying this?”

Jace just grinned, all cocky and infuriating. “Kinda hot seeing you all worked up over me.”

You grabbed a dish towel and threw it at his face, but he was too quick, catching it midair.

“Fine. Two can play this game,” you huffed, unlocking your phone.

Jace’s eyes darkened immediately as he watched you open Instagram. “What are you doing?”

“Posting my own thirst trap.” You smirked, scrolling through your hottest pictures, about to make a statement.

Jace snatched the phone from your hands so fast you barely saw him move.

“Oh, hell no.”

You glared. “Oh, now you have a problem?”

Jace caged you against the counter, his arms on either side of you, his smirk gone.

“You don’t need to post anything, sweetheart,” he murmured, voice low, possessive. “The only attention I need is yours.”

His hands slid to your waist, pulling you against him, his eyes locked on yours.

“But if you really need a reminder that you’re the only one I want…” His lips brushed your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

“I can show you exactly who I belong to.”

The internet lost its mind the moment the video dropped.

Within seconds, Twitter, Instagram, and TikTok were in complete chaos.

The Video:

You were straddling Jace’s lap, one hand wrapped around his throat, the other tangled in his hair. Your body rocked against him, and his hands gripped your waist, effortlessly guiding your movements. He had that damn smirk, his eyes dark and full of amusement.

Then, just as if to ruin everyone’s lives, you leaned in, lips brushing against his ear, whispering something only he could hear. Jace’s smirk widened, his fingers digging into your hips, and then he bit his lip, looking way too pleased with himself.

And just like that, the internet exploded.

Twitter Reactions:

“I just watched this video 46 times and I still can’t breathe.”

“THIS is revenge??? She just ended all of us.”

“Jace in the CK campaign had me weak, but THIS??? I am deceased. RIP me.”

“THE HAND AROUND HIS THROAT. THE WHISPERING. THE WAY HE’S SMIRKING. I CANNOT.”

“Y’all, I think we just witnessed softcore porn and I’m not complaining.”

Instagram Comments (Under Jace’s Post):

“Bro, did you even SURVIVE that??”

“You just made every couple on this planet feel boring.”

“Not him looking like he’d let her do absolutely ANYTHING to him.”

“I need to know what she whispered IMMEDIATELY.”

“Jace blink twice if you need help—oh wait, you’re into this.”

TikTok Chaos:

🔗 Edits flooded the app—slow-motion replays of your fingers gripping Jace’s throat, the way his eyes darkened, the way your body moved together, all set to the most sinful R&B songs.

📈 Trending Hashtags:

#JaceIsGone #PowerCoupleGoals #ThroatGrabber #SheOwnsHimNow

Meanwhile, Jace’s Reaction:

He reposted the video on his Instagram story with just one caption:

“Revenge never looked this good.” 😏🔥

And just like that, he won again.

Tag list : @danytar @hangmanscoming @julessworldd @yazzzmints @giirlinblack @searatarg @vaelry @callsignwidow @ashblooddragons

Thank to @zaldritzosrose gor letting me use your beautiful dividers ❤️‍🩹

#hotd imagine #hotd #hotd one shot #hotd x reader #jace targaryen #jace smut #jace x reader #jace velaryon #modern jacaerys #jacaerys valaryon x reader #jacaerys x you #hotd jacaerys #jacaerys smut #jacaerys x reader #prince jacaerys #jacaerys targaryen #jacaerys velaryon #hotd modern au #modern hotd

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empressdede · 2 days ago

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Reconnecting Ringside

Sade is interning at WWE, hoping to gain some insight experience and runs in to Jon, an old friend. What are the chances of these two reconnecting?

Word count: 3.5K

Pairing: Jonathan x OC (Sade)

No warnings, Happy Valentine’s day ❤️••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••Jonathan Fatu adjusted his snapback as he strolled through the halls of the WWE Performance Center, his sneakers squeaking against the polished floor. Fresh off a promo rehearsal, he was already thinking about heading back to his hotel—until a familiar voice stopped him in his tracks.

“Jonathan Fatu? Is that really you?”

He turned, eyebrows raising in surprise. “Sade?”

There she stood—Sade, his old friend from back home. The years had changed her, but the warm smile and bright eyes were unmistakable. She held a media badge around her neck, a notepad in hand.

“Wow,” Jonathan chuckled, a grin spreading across his face. “Long time no see! What brings you here?”

Sade’s smile widened. “I just started an internship with WWE’s journalism team. Gonna be doing interviews, covering events, all that.”

“No way!” He beamed proudly. “Look at you, making moves. This business is wild, but you’re gonna kill it. Trust me.”

Sade laughed. “I hope so! And I’m pretty sure an interview with a certain Uso has to happen soon.”

Jonathan smirked, his playful side kicking in. “Only if you can handle the heat, ’cause when I’m on the mic, it’s straight fire!”

“Bring it on,” she teased. “Just don’t make me roast you on camera.”

Jonathan laughed loudly, shaking his head. “You ain’t changed a bit.”

Before they could say more, a voice called from down the hall—production needed Jonathan on set. He glanced back at Sade. “Yo, we gotta catch up after this. Dinner tonight?”

“Deal,” she replied.

As he walked away, Jonathan couldn’t help but smile. The WWE ring had brought him countless battles—but this? This felt like the start of something special.

Later that evening, Jonathan and Sade found themselves at a cozy restaurant not far from the arena. The air buzzed with the soft hum of conversations, but their table felt like its own world.

“So, WWE journalism, huh?” Jonathan leaned back, his chain catching the low light. “How’d you end up here?”

Sade smiled, setting her drink down. “Well, you know I always loved storytelling. After college, I did some freelance sports writing. Then, I saw WWE was offering an internship for media coverage. It felt like fate. And now here I am, about to cover superstars—never thought I’d run into one I actually know.”

Jonathan chuckled. “Man, life’s wild like that. Feels like yesterday we were back home, clowning around.”

Sade’s eyes sparkled. “Remember when you used to practice your promos in front of my camera for my school projects?”

Jonathan laughed loudly. “You mean those cringy ones with the bad lighting? Yeah, I remember. Guess that was my first taste of ‘The Mic.’”

Sade grinned. “I knew you had star power even then.”

Jonathan’s expression softened. “And now you’re here, chasing your own dream. That’s dope.”

Their laughter faded into a comfortable silence, and for a moment, it was just two old friends, worlds apart from where they started, but somehow right back in step.

Then Sade’s phone buzzed with a notification—Interview assignments posted. She opened it and paused, eyes widening.

“Well, looks like fate’s still working overtime,” she said, turning the screen to him.

The assignment read: “Exclusive Sit-Down Interview with Jimmy Uso – Tomorrow.”

Jonathan smirked. “Guess you’re getting that interview sooner than you thought.”

Sade raised an eyebrow, her playful competitive streak kicking in. “Hope you’re ready, Fatu. I don’t go easy on my subjects.”

Jonathan grinned, his tone playful but firm. “And I don’t pull punches. Better bring your A-game.”

Their eyes locked—a spark of excitement, challenge, and something unspoken lingering between them.

“Game on,” Sade replied with a smirk.

The following morning, backstage at a live event, the atmosphere was a mix of buzzing anticipation and focused intensity. Jonathan Fatu—better known in the ring as Jimmy Uso—sat in his dressing room, meticulously going over last-minute details. The mirror in front of him reflected a man who had weathered countless storms in the squared circle, each scar and smile telling a story of his journey.

A gentle knock at the door broke his concentration. Jonathan looked up to see Sade stepping in, notebook in hand and a confident gleam in her eye. The room, usually reserved for quiet pre-match rituals, seemed to brighten with her presence.

“Good morning, Jimmy,” she began warmly. “Ready for our sit-down?”

Jonathan grinned. “Always. It’s not every day I get to be interviewed by an old friend.”

They settled into a pair of mismatched chairs by a small table cluttered with water bottles, a coffee mug, and memorabilia from past events. Sade switched on her recorder and leaned forward. “Let’s start at the beginning. What was it like when you first realized this wasn’t just a game, but your life?”

Jonathan’s eyes softened with memory. “I remember the first time I stepped into the ring—the roaring crowd, the smell of sweat and determination. It wasn’t about winning or losing back then. It was about proving to myself that I belonged in a world where every moment mattered.”

Sade scribbled a note, then asked, “And what about the pressure of living up to a family legacy? Your brother, the rest of your clan—it all adds a layer of expectation.”

He chuckled, running a hand through his hair. “Family is both the weight on my shoulders and the wind beneath my wings. Every match, every promo, I’m not just fighting for myself but for everyone who’s ever believed in me. It’s a relentless drive.”

The conversation flowed naturally, as if the years apart had melted away. Sade probed further, “There must have been moments of doubt along the way. Can you share one that changed you?”

Jonathan’s gaze drifted to a framed photo on the wall—a candid shot of him and his cousins backstage, laughing after a tough day. “There was a time when I wasn’t sure I’d ever overcome the obstacles. A major injury had me sidelined longer than I’d hoped, and the fear of losing my edge was overwhelming. But in that quiet darkness, I learned that resilience isn’t just about physical strength—it’s about heart, determination, and the unwavering support of those who stand by you.”

Sade’s voice softened. “That vulnerability… it makes your triumphs all the more inspiring.”

“Exactly,” Jonathan replied, a wry smile playing on his lips. “The ring isn’t just about the spectacle you see on TV. It’s about the sweat, the scars, and the moments when you push past pain to become something more.”

A comfortable silence fell over the room as they both reflected on the weight of his journey. Finally, Sade added, “I think that’s what the fans need to hear. Behind every high-flying move and every electrifying promo, there’s a human story. A story of struggle, family, and the relentless pursuit of a dream.”

Jonathan nodded appreciatively. “And thanks to you, Sade, that story is going to be told with honesty and heart.”

The recorder clicked off as Sade closed her notebook. They sat for a moment, two friends connected by time and a shared passion for storytelling—one through the physical poetry of wrestling, the other through the power of the written word.

Stepping out into the corridor, the buzz of the arena waiting just beyond, Jonathan clapped Sade on the shoulder. “I’m looking forward to the next chapter. And hey—if you need any behind-the-scenes action, you know where to find me.”

With a final smile and a promise to reconnect after the show, Sade walked off, her mind brimming with the raw, authentic narrative of a superstar whose legacy was as much about heart as it was about hustle. And for Jonathan, the day had reaffirmed that every story—both in and out of the ring—deserves to be told.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••Weeks passed, and Sade and Jonathan settled into an easy rhythm. Between shows, interviews, and the chaos of WWE life, they always found time for each other—grabbing dinner after tapings, cracking jokes between promos, and sharing late-night conversations that blurred the line between the past and present.

Their friendship felt natural, like they had never lost time. But for Jonathan, something unexpected had started to creep in—attraction. He found himself looking forward to her laugh, the way her eyes lit up when she asked the right question, or how she stood her ground during heated debates about wrestling storylines.

One evening, they sat together in catering, plates filled with the usual post-show fare. The energy of the arena hummed faintly through the walls. Sade, scrolling through her notes for her next assignment, glanced up to catch Jonathan watching her.

She smirked. “What? Do I have something on my face?”

Jonathan shook his head, leaning back with a grin. “Nah, just—never thought I’d see you in this world. But you’re killin’ it.”

Sade chuckled, brushing off the compliment. “You always did hype me up.”

Jonathan’s eyes glinted with curiosity, and he tilted his head playfully. “So, tell me… you leave a boyfriend behind to pursue this dream?”

Sade paused mid-sip of her water, then burst out laughing. “Boyfriend? Nah, haven’t had one in a while. Been single for two years now.”

Jonathan’s eyebrows lifted slightly, though he kept his cool. “Yeah? Why’s that?”

She raised an eyebrow, her playful side kicking in. “Why you askin’, Fatu?”

Jonathan shrugged casually, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes. “Just curious.”

Sade smirked. “You’re terrible at being subtle, you know that?”

Jonathan laughed, rubbing his chin. “Maybe. But I’m good at being real.”

A charged silence settled between them, one that felt… different. Sade felt the weight of his gaze, but before she could unpack it, a crew member called her name from across the room.

She stood, flashing him a quick grin. “Well, just curious, I gotta get back to work. See you later, Fatu.”

Jonathan watched her walk away, a slow smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah,” he muttered under his breath. “See you later.”

But as she disappeared down the hall, one thought stuck in his mind: This ain’t just friendship anymore.

The more time Jonathan spent with Sade, the more his feelings tangled. Friendship had always been easy with her—jokes, conversations, the comfort of someone who just got him. But now? He found himself noticing everything—the way her eyes crinkled when she laughed, how she challenged him in conversations, how her passion for storytelling mirrored his passion for the ring.

But the more he felt it, the more he panicked.

Jonathan wasn’t a stranger to love—he’d been through enough to know how messy it could get. And with Sade? She was his friend. Hell, his best friend. If he crossed that line and it went south, he could lose something he hadn’t even realized he needed so badly.

So, he buried it. Teased her like always. Kept his playful charm front and center.

But his heart kept slipping through the cracks.

One Night After SmackDown

The locker room buzz had died down, and Jonathan was cooling off from his match, towel draped around his neck when his phone buzzed.

Sade: “Still here? Grab a late bite with me?”

He didn’t hesitate. “Bet. Meet you outside.”

They ended up at a small diner—not glamorous, but the kind of place that felt real. Sade was deep into a story about a backstage interview gone hilariously wrong, and Jonathan, fork paused halfway to his mouth, just… watched her.

“You good?” she teased, catching his stare.

He blinked, covering with a smirk. “Yeah, yeah. Just… you really love this, don’t you?”

Sade’s expression softened. “I do. I love getting to know people, hearing their stories. Wrestling isn’t just about fights—it’s about heart, passion, legacy. And you…” She nudged him playfully. “You live that every night.”

Jonathan felt a warmth he couldn’t shake. “Yeah, well… guess I’m lucky I got someone who sees the real side of all this.”

Their eyes locked—something unspoken humming between them for a beat too long.

Later That Week – At the WWE Performance Center

Jonathan decided he needed to do something about these feelings—anything—before they started eating him alive.

So, he did what he knew best: he hit the ring. Training always cleared his head. Except, this time, it didn’t.

Every corner of the ring reminded him of Sade—because she was everywhere now. In his matches, his promos, his downtime. And it wasn’t annoying. It was terrifying how right it felt.

Finally, he stopped, breathing hard, hands on his knees. “Man… what the hell’s wrong with me?” he muttered.

A voice from behind startled him. “You good, Uce?”

Jonathan turned to see Joshua, arms crossed, watching him with a raised eyebrow.

“Yeah,” Jonathan lied, wiping his face. “Just workin’ some stuff out.”

Josh wasn’t buying it. “Man, you wrestlin’ ghosts or somethin’? What’s really on your mind?”

Jonathan hesitated, then sighed heavily. “It’s… Sade.”

Josh’s eyebrows shot up, a smirk forming. “Ohhh. Sade. Say less.”

Jonathan groaned, “Man, don’t start—”

Josh cut him off, serious now. “You feelin’ her?”

Jonathan rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah. I mean… I didn’t plan on it. But it’s like—she’s my friend, but she’s more than that, too. And I don’t wanna mess it up.”

Joshua clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Bro, when you know, you know. But if you’re already over here sweatin’ and stressin’ like this? It’s ‘cause you care.”

Jonathan looked at his brother, the truth hitting him square in the chest. “Yeah… I do.”

–

Lying on his bed, phone in hand, Jonathan’s thumb hovered over Sade’s contact.

He typed: “You up?”

Then deleted it.

Tried again: “Hey, you wanna talk?”

Deleted that, too.

Frustrated, he sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Get it together, Fatu.”

But deep down, he knew—this wasn’t something he could fight like an opponent in the ring.

This was something he had to face.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••Valentine’s Day was a week away, and Jonathan Fatu had one thing on his mind—Sade.

The decision to finally tell her how he felt was clear, but how he’d do it? That was where he was stuck. He wanted it to be perfect—something meaningful, something that showed her just how much she meant to him.

So, between training, matches, and travel, he found himself scrolling through ideas—dinners, flowers, maybe something personal like a custom WWE jacket with her name on it. But every option felt too small for how big his feelings had become.

The planning was driving him crazy—and, without realizing it, making him distant.

Sade Notices the Change. At first, Sade didn’t think much of it. Jonathan was busy—WWE life was hectic, and they both knew that. But as days passed, she felt it—text replies were shorter, their usual jokes felt half-hearted, and he wasn’t hitting her up to hang out like he usually did.

After their last interview together, he barely stuck around—just a quick “Good job” and he was gone.

Sade couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off.

Talking to Joshua

Sade decided to get to the bottom of it, and who better to ask than Jonathan’s twin, Joshua?

She found him backstage after SmackDown, cooling down from his segment.

“Hey, Jey,” she greeted, her voice light but uncertain.

Joshua smiled, towel draped over his neck. “What’s good, Sade?”

She hesitated briefly, then got straight to it. “Can I ask you something? It’s about Jonathan.”

Joshua’s eyebrows lifted knowingly. “Oh?”

Sade shifted her weight, arms crossing. “He’s been… different lately. Distant. Did I… do something? Is he mad at me?”

Josh chuckled, shaking his head. “Nah, you didn’t do anything.”

Sade narrowed her eyes. “Then what’s going on? We were tight, and now it’s like I barely know what’s on his mind.”

Joshua debated for a second—he knew what his brother was up to, but it wasn’t his place to spoil it.

Instead, he grinned slyly. “Lemme just say this—My brother’s head is in the game… but his heart? Yeah, that’s somewhere else right now.”

Sade frowned in confusion. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Joshua gave a small shrug but couldn’t hide his amusement. “You’ll see soon enough. Trust me.”

Sade’s confusion only deepened. “You Fatu boys and your cryptic answers…”

Josh laughed, “What can I say? We love a good storyline.”

Meanwhile, Jonathan was pulling every string he could to make this Valentine’s Day unforgettable. He called in a favor with WWE production for something special during that night’s show—a personal video package with highlights of their friendship, moments from their interviews, and even a few candid clips.

His heart pounded at the thought of it. This wasn’t just a gesture—this was him laying it all on the line.

But he hadn’t spoken to her much because if he did… he’d slip. He knew it.

Sade, still confused and slightly frustrated, wondered if Jonathan was pulling away from her for another reason entirely.

But what she didn’t know was that Jonathan wasn’t pulling away—

He was getting ready to step closer than ever before.

Valentine’s Day -

Valentine’s Day arrived, and the energy backstage was electric. Red and pink decorations lined the catering area—thanks to some overzealous staffers—and the buzz of the night’s matches filled the air.

Jonathan, though? His heart was racing for a different reason. Tonight was the night. His plan was set—the video package would air after his segment. But before that… he needed to ask her. Directly.

Sade was reviewing her notes for a post-match interview when she heard a familiar voice behind her.

“Hey.”

She turned, and there he was—Jonathan, looking slightly… nervous? She raised an eyebrow. “Well, well, if it isn’t Mr. MIA. You finally decided to show up.”

Jonathan rubbed his neck sheepishly. “Yeah, about that… I’ve been, uh, working on something.”

Sade folded her arms, smirking. “Something so important you had to ghost me?”

Jonathan chuckled softly, but then his tone shifted—serious, genuine. “Nah… something for you.”

Sade’s expression softened. “For me?”

Jonathan took a small breath—this was it. “Yeah… So, listen. I know I’ve been distant, but it’s ‘cause I’ve been trying to figure out how to do this right.”

He stepped closer, his voice steady but warm. “So, I’m just gonna say it plain—Sade… will you be my Valentine?”

Sade blinked, her lips parting in surprise. Of all the things she expected—that wasn’t one of them.

Then, a slow, radiant smile spread across her face. “You mean all this time you were stressing about this?”

Jonathan chuckled nervously. “Yeah… pretty much.”

Sade shook her head with a laugh. “You really are something else, Fatu.” She paused, eyes softening. “But… yeah. I’d love to be your Valentine.”

Jonathan’s grin could’ve lit up the entire arena. “Good. ‘Cause I wasn’t takin’ no for an answer.”

Later that night, as the crowd roared and the lights dimmed for a transition segment, the arena screens flickered to life—playing a special video package.

Footage of Jonathan and Sade appeared—interviews, shared laughs, behind-the-scenes clips… their story. The final frame read:

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Sade. — Jonathan”

Sade, watching from the interview set, felt her chest tighten—warmth flooding through her.

And as the camera panned back to Jonathan, standing in the ring with a mic, he smiled toward her direction.

“Yo, Sade,” his voice boomed, “Just wanted everyone to know—you’ve already made this the best Valentine’s Day.”

The crowd erupted in cheers, and Sade couldn’t fight the grin on her face.

The cheers from the crowd still echoed faintly through the halls as Sade and Jonathan stood together backstage, the energy of his Valentine’s Day surprise still buzzing between them.

Sade pulled back slightly from their hug, her eyes searching his. “That… was unreal, Jon. I don’t even know what to say.”

Jonathan’s gaze softened, his hands lingering at her waist. “Don’t gotta say anything. Just… tell me how you feel.”

Sade’s heart pounded. She felt the weight of the moment—the years of friendship, the teasing, the laughter, and now… this.

So, she stopped thinking.

And closed the distance.

Their lips met—soft, warm, and every bit as perfect as she’d imagined. The world around them blurred into nothing, the noise fading until it was just them.

When they pulled back, Sade’s breath was shaky, but her smile was radiant. “I’ve been wanting to do that for a long time,” she confessed, her voice barely above a whisper.

Jonathan’s lips curled into a grin, his forehead resting against hers. “You have no idea how long I’ve been hoping you would.”

The unspoken was spoken, and everything felt… right.

And as they stood there, lost in each other, one thing was certain—this wasn’t the end.

It was just the beginning.

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

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skzhua · 3 days ago

Text

episode 3.

MASTERLIST

pairing: XO, Kitty's Min Ho x Female Reader

genre: Fluff, angst, exes-to-lovers, slow burn, coming-of-age.

word count: 5.3k (not proofread yet!)

warnings: cussing, jealousy, heist (aka don't do that kids).

summary: despite you and min ho growing closer once again, he still sends you mixed signals about what he wants. and you don't know how long you can handle this back and forth. especially when you know you'll be spending seollal with him... and stella.

note: Bold - Korean, Italic - Over the phone

(let me know by filling the form in my bio if you want to be added to the taglist!)

As soon as you saw Stella, you pushed Min Ho away from you. She was beyond mad, she was hurt. Before you could say anything, she shook her head in disappointment and left as she disappeared into the school building. You looked at Min Ho, who was avoiding your eyes.

"You didn't tell her you weren't interested, did you?"

With a sigh, he shook his head no. "I didn't get to speak to her, let's say."

"A text, Min Ho, no?" you said in disbelief.

"The one I was really trying to text was not responding."

"Yeah, and you should have taken it as a sign maybe."

His Adam's apple bopped. "Then why did you kiss me?"

You pointed at him. "You're the one who kissed me."

"What? Why would I want to kiss you?"

It felt like a knife went through your heart. You were baffled that, only seconds ago, you were letting yourself fall in love with him again. Although he was noticeably frustrated with you, it wasn't hard to see he regretted what he said right after the words left his mouth.

"Sorry, it just-"

"Whatever, Min Ho..."

Crossing your arms, you held them close to your body. To this, he took his jacket off and wrapped it around you. Your face still showed anger but you did nothing to stop him.

"I'll talk to Stella," he assured.

"Yeah, and I will too. I'll say this was in the spur of the moment."

He scoffed. "So, it meant nothing?"

Your shoulders dropped. "What do you want me to say?"

His mouth opened to say something but nothing came out. Visibly, he was as confused as you were. And while you didn't hate it, you were afraid you only hurt yourself.

"Sure," he finally spoke. "It was in the spur of the moment."

The corner of your mouth lifted the slightest, a sign of gratitude. "Thanks. We're good?"

"We're good."

You shared a hug that you could describe as the most awkward physical interaction you'd had in life, and you went your separate ways, not forgetting to give back his jacket beforehand. By then, hunger had died down and the softness of your mattress was all you could think of. You dreaded the discussion you'd have to share with Stella, but you couldn't just stop yourself from going home.

When you walked in, she was on her laptop and sat on the couch. At the sound of you entering the place, she glared at you before focusing on the screen again. You slowly approached her.

"Hey, can we talk?"

She frowned. "About how you promised nothing was going on with Min Ho before giving me his number, only to kiss him right in front of me?"

Ouch. As much as you hated hearing that, you couldn't deny that she was pretty spot on.

"It's not what it looks like-"

She suddenly shut the laptop before looking at you right in the eyes. "Did you do it to humiliate me or something?"

"What? Of course not!"

"Then explain to me what is going on," she breathed out, her voice softening.

You allowed yourself to take a seat next to her. "Min Ho and I, we have a complicated relationship. I am trying my best to become his friend again, no feelings involved. What you saw earlier was nothing but a moment of weakness where we both fell back into old feelings. I swear, it was nothing."

She cocked her head to the side. "It seemed pretty passionate to me."

"I promise, it meant nothing. Have him all you want, I won't overstep again."

Even if you were more trying to convince yourself than her, she ended up accepting your explanation, thanking you for being honest with her. But were you?

You hurried to join Dae and Kitty as soon as you saw them in the crowd. Q had been showering the whole gang with messages about how the track meet was important to him, meaning he wanted everyone to be there for him. Your only surprise was to not see his face among the team, who was already settled for the track to start. Out of breath, you joined your two friends who seemed as lost as you were.

"This is crazy. Where is Q?" Dae spoke what everyone was thinking.

"I have no idea, but that is the guy he was all over last night at the club," Kitty pointed to one of the track members.

Dae scoffed. "Q ditched me for Jin? But he's Q's rival, and he's a big jerk."

"Yeah, well, looks like Q might have gotten played," you sighed before turning to take a look around in hopes to spot Q.

That when you saw Min Ho and Stella, seated in a very cozy manner on the bleachers. While Stella waved at you kindly, Min Ho stared at the floor, visibly ashamed you 'caught' him hanging out with the person he was supposedly not interested in — also considering he kissed you the day prior. You were not going to let it affect you. Like you had both established, it meant nothing.

Alex coming out to announce start of the race was enough to make you forget about that weird feeling in your stomach. "Runners, please take your marks for the 100-meter dash qualifying. The winner will represent KISS-"

"We have to do something!" Kitty exclaimed.

You nodded. "I have an idea."

Before either could question you, you ran to the track. You purposefully dropped your bracelet, one that belonged to your mother, and began to act distressed as you looked around the ground. You didn't hesitate to let out grunts of frustration and comments on your foolishness for losing your jewelry.

The crowd began to chatter amongst themselves, wondering why you were interrupting the race. Kitty and Dae were trying to tell you with hand movements to stop, but you couldn't let Alex start the run when Q wasn't here.

"Y/N, get off the track!" Alex called out.

Out of panic — well mostly because you ran out of ideas — you dropped on the ground, faking to have fainted. Frankly, the ground was quite comfortable as you closed your eyes, only feeling the wind grazing against your skin... and fingers?

"Y/N!" Min Ho yelled, worried. "Y/N, you all right?"

As he rubbed your shoulder, shaking it slightly to see if you were fine, you opened an eye to glare at him. "I'm trying to cause a diversion, dummy!"

His shoulders relaxed, but he couldn't help but roll his eyes. He held his hand out for you to grab, and by hearing Q finally arriving, you took it. Helping you up, he could only chuckle.

"What?"

"That's the last thing I'd have expected you to do. I mean, since when do you like being the center of attention."

It was your turn to roll your eyes. "I don't. But I care about Q, who should be both our focus right now."

You didn't let him reply as you joined your friends — and Stella, to cheer on Q. As soon as the race started, your eyes were fixated on him. He started out great, being the first up. However, it didn't take long for Jin to surpass him.

"Come on, Q," you muttered to yourself.

"Let's go!" Kitty encouraged.

Unfortunately, the cheers you heard were all for Jin who made it first. You still all clapped, although you were visibly disappointed.

"Have I been mean to Juliana?"

You groaned, throwing your book at the end of your bed. All you wanted was one morning without Kitty complaining about ruining Yuri and Juliana living together by letting it slip out in front of Principal Lee. So far, so good since you were the one to take Yuri's bed in their room. That worked out for you since you wanted to avoid Stella. Yeah, because Min Ho clearly did not turn her down and they continued to be 'a thing'.

"What did you do, now?"

"Nothing!" she almost yelled, making you jump. "She was eating her cereal, then I tried to confide to her about Praveena, but she just left. She said she had stuff to do but I think she's making up excuses. Did I say something?"

"Beside the fact you were the cause for Yuri to move out?"

She deadpanned at you. "Yes, beside that."

You shrugged. "She might actually have something to do."

She whined. "You're not helping."

"Forget about them," you said, getting off your bed and grabbing your school bag. "We have to get to the assembly anyway."

Min Ho: Y/N?

"Uh..." you stopped on your tracks.

"Everything alright?" Kitry questioned, trying to catch a glimpse of your phone screen.

"Yeah, you go ahead. I'll join you at the assembly."

She seemed unsure but nodded nonetheless before leaving you alone. You looked in her room to see if Stella was still home, and when you noticed no signs of her, you dialed Min Ho's number.

He picked up right away. "I thought you'd ignore me!"

"What do you want?" you cut right to the chase.

"I was just grabbing coffee before class. Since we don't live in the same dorm anymore, I just wanted to know if you wanted one."

You scoffed. "What about your girlfriend? What is she going to say when she learns you're getting your ex coffee?"

"Hey, we're still friends, no? And Stella's not my girlfriend."

You hesitated. But, coffee is coffee after all. "Alright. You know how I like it?"

"How can I forget?"

You could hear the smile from his voice and, ultimately, it made you smile too. "I'll join you in a bit, then?"

"Just hurry before it gets cold."

And so, you took off, not forgetting to grab your umbrella in the process since it was raining lightly. It took you less than five minutes from your dorm to the coffee trailer. Min Ho, in all of his glory, stood patiently next to it with two cups in hands and his hair slightly damped since he put his umbrella away until you arrived. He was rocking his body back and forth, visibly waiting.

"You could have gotten me a large," you commented, grabbing his attention.

He chuckled. "For you, m'lady," he held the coffee to you.

You grabbed it, glad to see it was still warm. "Thanks."

He opened his umbrella again and you walked side by side towards the school building. Taking a sip, you were more than happy to get warmed up. Plus, it was just how you liked it.

"The ones you make are still better," you pointed out.

"I know," he cocked an eyebrow. "I hate to say this but it is different without you at the dorms."

"Don't get all nostalgic, it doesn't suit you."

He sipped his coffee before shrugging. "It's a fact, though. I have nobody to bicker with."

Your eyes grew, offended, and just when you were about to give him a slight slap on the arm, you were quickly interrupted by his father.

"So, how's my favourite student doing?" Mr. Moon asked, only for Min Ho to react disgusted.

"A bit early for blatant nepotism, dad."

"I was talking to your girlfriend, the shark," he pointed towards you and you body stiffened.

"Sorry about that... again. And we're not-"

He cut you off. "It's okay, I loved it," he complimented before turning to his son. "So, have you decided about the cabin for the long weekend?" Noticing Min Ho only seemed confused, he continued. "Just you and me, one-on-one on the slopes? You used to love when I took you skiing as a kid."

"That was Joon Ho. Not me. Anyways, Stella and I have plans this weekend."

"Oh I thought-" Mr. Moon started, glancing at you for a second. "Nevermind. Well, it would be a shame to let this house go to waste, again," he said before leaving the two of you be.

"Y/N-" Min Ho started, obviously wanting to explain the Stella thing.

But you ignored it. "Your dad's not doing a Seollal get-together with the whole family?"

He sighed, upset by your avoidance but he still answered. "All my siblings are spending the holidays with their moms. Joon Ho is on tour, meaning I'm his last resort."

"I mean, he is still putting in the effort of asking you. Who knows, maybe it's a chance for you to-"

"Torture myself?" he interrupted you. "Forget it. We have an assembly to go to before class."

The assembly in itself was not so interesting, as per usual. Stella joined Min Ho, to begin with, which did not please you much. Especially seeing her hold Min Ho's arm the way you used to. Otherwise, Alex was trying his best to catch the students' interest, which was pretty sad to watch. Madison was being the Korean obsessed girl that she is. And Mr. Moon had to steal the show. He announced a student talent showcase at the end of the semester where the winner would receive a cash prize. At the mention of it, you immediately looked at Dae.

And by the end of the assembly, your friends seemed to have the same thought as they encouraged Dae to sign up for it, while Kitty and Stella followed behind the four of you, having a conversation of their own.

"You have to enter the contest," Q said excitedly. "You have the voice of an angel."

Dae nodded. "My family could use the money. But singing is just, like, my hobby."

"I got you, bro. I'll coach you. Manager-performer dream team, baby," Min Ho offered. "And, I won't even take commission."

Dae chuckled, remaining doubtful. "But do you think I could actually win?"

"Yeah," you and Q affirmed.

That visibly encouraged him. "Okay, then. Let's do it."

Arriving at the dance studio, you came to fetch Dae after he texted you. Apparently, Min Ho and Eunice were making his first rehearsal hell and knowing you, he hoped you could get him out of it. As you walked in, you were less than surprised to see Stella tagging along as she observed Dae dancing messily. You chuckled to yourself, leaning on the door frame to not disturb them. You wanted to see Dae suffer a bit, it was kind of funny.

"This isn't going to work," he let out, discouraged.

Eunice scoffed. "It is not my fault that you can't handle a little constructive criticism."

Stella sighed. "Okay, why don't you tell them your brilliant idea?" she asked Min Ho, not forgetting to touch his arm in the process.

You swallowed whatever feeling you were having as Min Ho spoke. "Well, I thought of the cherry on top for your performance. When the song ends, you spin around, bend her back, and lay one on her."

Dae frowned. "What do you mean, 'lay one on her'?"

"What I mean is..."

You wanted a show, you got a show. Spinning Stella around, Min Ho swiftly held her before bending her back, just like he had described. And he laid one on her. Their lips met briefly but the small gesture was enough to make your eyes water. What hurt even more was Stella's satisfied grin, like she had won something. Maybe she did.

"My boy's right."

You jumped at the voice while Mr. Moon walked in the room past you. Finally, Min Ho spotted you. You couldn't tell what his face was saying, but it was nothing good. It was a mix of shame, fear, guilt... And to be honest, you couldn't care less about how he was feeling.

"Your instinct is so spot on, son," he continued and Min Ho nodded, thankful. "All right, I won't distract you. I just wanted to say Baek Jong Won said he'll be happy to cook a dinner at the cabin this weekend. I know how much you love his ramyun."

"The famous chef?" Stella asked, stars in her eyes almost.

"Yeah, he's just a family friend. Think about it." He turned around to leave and smiled at you in acknowledgement as he went past you again. "Miss Park, always a pleasure."

"Your dad's really trying," Stella said, but was ignored.

"Where were we?" Min Ho went back to Eunice and Dae.

"I was just about to leave," Dae said, looking at you. "Sorry, I can't do this."

He joined you while the others called for him. Min Ho frowned, looking back and forth at the both of you but you just took Dae's wrist and rushed to get him out of there — get you both out of there. Deciding you both deserved food for each of your problems, you went to the convenience store to get some instant noodles together. You insisted that it was on you, and even if Dae tried to pay for himself, he ended up letting you take care of it.

Finally seated, you both slurped in silence, enjoying the flavours rather than speak about your issues. That was something the both of you needed terribly. But you couldn't avoid it for too long.

"I think I won't do the talent showcase," Dae stated.

You moved your eyes from your food to him. "One bad rehearsal does not mean you have to give up."

"Did you see me there, Y/N? I was a mess."

You shook your head. "You were definitely out of your comfort zone, but you weren't a mess. You had three people working with you, that's something. They know you've got what it takes."

He sighed. "I don't know... Ah, and sorry about Min Ho. I didn't know they would kiss in front of you or..."

You smiled. "Thank you for worrying, but I'm fine. You know just like me that it's hard, but you have to accept it won't be the same anymore."

He nodded in agreement. "You and me are pretty much on the same boat, yeah."

"Besides, I'm just glad he at least found someone nice and not some random fangirl."

You both shared some laughter. It felt amazing to spend time with him like this. You reminded yourself once more that he was a true friend you could rely on.

The moment was short as you phone began to ring. Both of you looked at the contact. Speaking of your exes, Kitty was the one calling you.

"What's up?" you answered.

"You know how quiet and subtle you are?"

You raised an eyebrow, unsure as to what she was saying. "I guess."

"I'm planning a small heist with Praveena, but we need help..." she said, trying to not sound too crazy.

"Kitty!"

"I need my mom's time capsule and the only way I can get it is by stealing it."

You shut your eyes, discouraged. "How did you come up with that idea?"

"It was Praveena's, actually. Please, Y/N, I really could use some help."

You breathed out. "You can sneak in without me."

"You know how to walk in a room without being noticed. I could use you as a guide!"

"Ugh... Fine, I'll come."

"Oh my God, you're an angel."

"I am aware," you chuckled.

"I do need one last favor from you, though. Please?"

You paused. "What is it?"

Dressed in dark clothes, you followed Kitty to the archives to join Praveena. For a date, this was... something for sure. You spotted the girl soon enough and she waved at you all.

"Oh, great. You brought the mouse and the muscle."

"I'm the muscle?" Min Ho asked and you lightly kicked his side with your elbow.

"Don't get too excited. Like I said, we just need someone tall enough to reach the high stuff," you snorted. "And Dae and Q were busy, so..."

"Hmm, are you sure it's not because you wanted to see me tonight?"

You glared at him. "After having to disinfect my eyes after you and missy's kiss, no thanks."

"Okay," Praveena stopped your bicker. "Huddle up, here's the plan."

You all formed a circle, huddled up, and it was hard to ignore Min Ho's hand placed around your waist. Of fucking course he was still sending you mixed signals while clearly being happy with Stella.

Praveena went on explaining the plan. You immediately got into action and she walked in, acting as a distraction. She exchanged with the old lady at the front desk before signaling for you three to get in. You discreetly crouched down and you rushed in, making as little noise as possible. Kitty and Min Ho followed your lead and you finally got in. You allowed yourself to stand up and turn on your flashlights.

"Why are we going through all this?" Min Ho complained.

"Because I have a whole other side of my family that my mom came here to find. So if this time capsule has a clue on how I can track them down, I have to have it," Kitty whisper-yelled.

"How touching," he said with no emotion whatsoever, causing you to bump the side of his body again. "Hey, will you stop?"

"Show a bit of empathy, here," you rolled your eyes.

"Well, personally, I'd love to erase the existence of half of my family."

Kitty let out a chuckle before going on about looking through the files. Meanwhile, you and Min Ho looked around aimlessly as you keep discussing.

"Correct me if I'm wrong but did your dad fund an entire arts program to spend time with you?"

"That's his move. Big, shallow gesture to make up for not being there. Like inviting me to a ski cabin for Seollal."

"I mean, do you want to fix things with him? I remember you telling me you do miss him," you pointed out, recalling one of your dates.

"I guess so," he admitted. "But... one-on-one time with him is always stressful. It'd be different if there were a bunch of family members around, like there's supposed to be on Seollal. Or even just very annoying and unpleasant people like yourself. As a buffer."

You hummed, faking a smile. "How kind of you," you said before joining Kitty, starting to get annoyed yourself.

He followed you and placed a hand on your shoulder to stop you. "What if we did that?"

You scoffed. "Use me as your buffer?"

"Well, you and the guys. And might as well ask Covey."

Kitty turned to you at the mention of her name. "Oh! I mean, it'd be more fun than hanging out here for the holiday."

You, for once, agreed. "Yeah, I guess. And we'll have your back if your dad's being difficult."

"Still looking out for me, how sweet," he joked.

"Like you said, I'm still your friend."

He was about to say something but noise coming from the front door made you all hide behind shelves.

"Professor Lee, I can assure you I know aisle 12!" Praveena yelled for you to hear.

"Wait, this is aisle 12!" Kitty whispered making you all change you hiding spot. While Kitty took the left, you and Min Ho too the right.

"Why are you shouting?" Mr. Lee asked Praveena. "I am perfectly capable of hearing you as well. I'm not as old as you think."

"I don't think you're old!"

You tried to peek but Min Ho grabbed you a which inevitably brought you back down. "Are you trying to get us caught?"

"I was just-"

He immediately placed his hand over your mouth to hush you. Meanwhile, his eyes glimmered with the little light there was. You began to breathe heavily and you thought he was doing so too. You did feel his hand getting sweaty and a blush a appeared on both of your faces.

"Y/N, about earlier-"

You stopped him, removing his hand from your face. "I'm happy for you."

He frowned. "No, I'm not-"

"I am, really. Stella seems to care about you."

"Don't fake being happy when I'm hurting you."

Kitty joining you lot made you push him away from you as you both stood on your feet. You hadn't even noticed Praveena and Lee were gone by then.

"Praveena just saved our asses. I mean, it's only our second date," she smiled but you and Minho exchanged a look.

"Date?" you scoffed.

"Kitty, she's sweet-talking an old lady whilst you're third-wheeling who used to be the hottest couple in school."

You buried your face in your hands, getting reminded of his cocky ass. "He just meant that it's not much of a date."

"Why don't you bring her skiing?"

Kitty shrugged. "That's kind of a big step." You and Min Ho sighed but Kitty's eyes then lit up. "Oh my God, I think that's it."

Following whete she was pointing at, you finally located the time capsule. Min Ho was quick to get to work, grabbing it for Kitty. Once you've acquired it, you lost no time in getting the hell out of there to join Praveena who was patiently waiting outside. Kitty ran to her for a hug.

"I cannot believe that actually worked. Oh, I wish I had a way to thank you."

"Oh, please," she brushed it off.

Again, you and Min Ho exchanged a look, knowing damn well that you were thinking the exact same thing. And of course, you hated that you still had this type of dynamic.

"Praveena, do you ski?" he asked.

"No, but I snowboard."

Kitty jumped in. "Any chance you want to come with us this weekend to Min Ho's dad's ski cabin?"

"You're inviting me to the Kris Jenner of Korea's vacation home? Hell yeah I wanna come."

"Cool," Kitty giggled. "I can't wait!"

They both began to walk away. As you were about to do the same, Min Ho stopped you by grabbing your hand. You immediately broke away from his hold.

"What?"

He cocked his head to the side. "Don't make this face with me."

"What do you want?"

Seeing you were going to keep the attitude, he spoke. "I know you wanted to cause a diversion the other day, but you forgot your bracelet on the ground."

He took it out of his pocket, presenting it to you. It was still as pretty as shiny as it always has been, maybe even more.

"Min Ho," you breathed out, taking it from him.

"I got it cleaned and I wanted to give it to you when we got coffee. But my dad kind of ruined the moment, so..."

You held it to your chest. "Whatever, I'm just glad I have it back. I forgot that's when I removed it. Thank you."

He nodded. "My pleasure."

He started to walk away, but you were the one to stop him now. "I... My aunt gave me a letter from my father. I haven't opened it yet and I thought we could open it together? I mean, it would definitely help me to read it and maybe it could help you with everything going on with your dad."

He couldn't keep his smile to himself. "I would love to."

The Seollal festival was something everyone had been looking forward to, but especially Juliana. Being the one who she shared her room with now, you listened to her nervousness about exposing her art more than enough. So when it finally came, you were ecstatic to not have to hear about it. And you were also happy for her, obviously.

"Thanks for helping me with setting up the booth."

"No worries," you smiled. "I do want to get food before it runs out..."

She laughed. "Go! Anyway, Yuri should be here any minute."

You ran to get any food you could lay your hands on. It went from Korean delicacies to traditional sweets. And man those sweets were good. From afar, you caught a glimpse of Dae. He seemed to have seen you at the same time since he was already signing for you to come join him. You made your way through the crowd and finally reached him. When you spotted Bora, his little sister, you saw she was eating the same one you had just gotten for yourself.

"Bora, look! We like the same things."

Her eyes grew. "Dae keeps saying it's too sugary, but I think he has bad taste."

You crouched to whisper in her ear. "Between you and me, I think you're right."

She laughed and Dae could only sigh. "Bora, that's your last sweet," he warned and she nodded.

As you sat down, you finally noticed the happy couple who was sat just next to Bora. While you gave Stella a warm smile, you bluntly ignored Min Ho. When you were alone, you were more than happy to be friendly. In front of his new girlfriend, however, it was better to not interact to avoid any argument — that included between you and him, them, or you and her. She was your roommate, you had to have her back somehow.

"Since when do you like children?" he asked.

"You don't know everything about me. That, or you don't pay attention when I talk."

You stared at him with mischievous eyes and he quickly caught on you were simply teasing him. Two could play this game.

"Try me."

Stella put her hand on his arm. "Min Ho," she said in a warning tone.

"What? I like a challenge."

You raised an eyebrow. "Rain check on that, your girlfriend's right. Save your knowledge for trivia night at your dad's cabin."

She seemed to agree with you. "That sounds fun, we should do that instead."

He huffed. "Fine, but we'll see who knows the other better."

The rest of the event went on smoothly surprisingly. Min Ho and you did bicker a lot but Stella joined in instead of being bothered about it. In fact, she and you kind of bonded over some quirks you could not stand about Min Ho. In a way, it felt bittersweet to know she was now the one to enjoy Min Ho's chivalry. On another part, bonding with Stella allowed you to see this as a new chapter. Yes, maybe there will always be a weird tension between Min Ho and you, but you knew you could go past it.

And now, it was time for ski.

"Have you packed?" Stella asked after knocking at your door.

"I just need a few more things and I'll join you."

"I'll be waiting at the cars outside."

You exchanged a smile and you continued to pack. Min Ho did mention there would be a hot tub. And Q did encourage you to buy that one swimsuit when you went shopping. That can never hurt, right? The only thing missing now was the letter. And for the life of you, you could not find it. You were convinced you left it in the bottom drawer of your desk but it was like it vanished into thin air. To say you were frustrated would be an understatement. You were on full panic mode. This was one of the last things your dad left before dying, and your aunt entrusted you with it. How could you lose it?

Seeing that time was passing, you concluded you'd have to look for it when you'd be back. Maybe ask Kitty or Min Ho to help you. Closing your suitcase, you grabbed your coat and headed out.

Only... when you opened the door... you were at loss for words. Not even that, you completely froze at the sight in front of you.

"Covey, cars are here. Let's go!" Min Ho yelled out as he bursted in your dorm.

When his eyes landed on Kitty and Yuri kissing, his reaction was identical to yours. Joining him, you were then noticed by the pair who showed nothing but shame.

#xo kitty x reader #xo kitty minho #xo kitty min ho x reader #xo kitty min ho #xo kitty #xo kitty season 2 #xo kitty season 2 fanfic #moon min ho #moon min ho x reader #min ho x reader #min ho moon #sang heon lee x reader #sang heon lee

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hikakuriyyu · 3 days ago

Text

poison. (Mickey Altieri smut)

⁎ warnings: toxic relationship, arguing, smoking, kissing, cussing, !smut! (p in v, unprotected, no aftercare or foreplay) female!reader. not proof read.

⁎ summary: you hated your life. you were in college, lonely and depressed. until you met Mickey, your current boyfriend. he made you feel loved. seen. but there was a problem: he was toxic. and you loved it...

⁎ author note: heyy. i know i said i didn't write smut, i wanted to experiment with stuff. so here u go, smut lol...

You were drowning. College wasn't helping, and loneliness clung to you. Your only escapes were drugs, cigarettes, and him. Mickey.

You met him on campus one late evening, leaning on a brick wall, cigarette hanging from his lips as he lazily asked where you were headed. It was casual. Innocent. But from that moment, he had you wrapped around his finger. He became your muse, your obsession.

Then came the fights. The shouting. The slammed doors and broken glass. The cycle... It never got better, but you didn't want it to. You loved the way he always came back, fists against your door, voice filled with desperation. The way his hands trembled when he touched you after. The way he'd drop to his knees, eyes glossy with regret and possession, begging for forgiveness.

And you forgave him. Everytime.

〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰

A cigarette dangled between your fingers, smoke curling toward the ceiling of your empty dorm. You were lucky. You'd managed to score a room all to yourself, not having to deal with a burden of a roommate.

Your phone buzzed on the nightstand, the screen lighting up: Mickey <3, the caller ID said. This was the 11th call of the night. You didn't answer. You just watched it ring, controlling yourself to not give into his desperation.

His voice still echoed in your ears from earlier. The sharp words, the venom laced in every breath. The argument had been bad. Even worse than usual. You could still feel the heat of it, the way his eyes had darkened, the way his grip on your hand had tightened a little too much...

☆FLASHBACK☆

''Oh so now you care ?'' Mickey's voice was sharp, his eyes wild with something between anger and desperation. He stood in your dorm room, pacing like a caged animal, running a hand through his messy hair. You scoffed, arms crossed, a cigarette burning between your fingers. "Don't start with this jealous boyfriend act again, Mickey. It's exhausting..."

''Jealous ?'' he laughed, but there was no humor in it. "Yeah, maybe I am. Maybe I'm fucking sick of you acting like I don't exist when we’re not in bed or when you're not using me to feel something."

Your jaw tightened. "Oh, fuck you. You're the one who disappears for days, then comes back like I should be waiting for you !"

He stepped closer, towering over you, voice dropping to something almost soft, but laced with anger. "Yeah ? And what do you do when I'm gone, huh ? Who the fuck were you with last night ?" he said. This again... Your eyes narrowed. "I was alone, Mickey." you told him. Which was the truth, but he wouldn't believe it.

"Bullshit." his hand slammed against the wall beside your head, making you flinch. "You ignore my calls all night, come back smelling like a fucking bar, and expect me to believe you just had a little me time ?"

"Oh, so now I need your permission to breathe? Well Mickey, you're the one who fucks off whenever it's convenient. Don't act like you're some loyal saint." You sneered at him.

His hands curled into fists, trembling with restraint. "I'd never fucking cheat on you." his voice was low, dangerous. "But you ? You're so fucking detached, it wouldn't surprise me if you already fucked someone else."

That one stung. Your blood boiled, and before you could think, you were shoving him back. "Fuck you, Mickey. Get out."

His nostrils flared, chest rising and falling with heavy breaths. For a moment, you thought he might leave. But then his expression changed, dark eyes softening, lips parting, regret settling in.

"Baby… I didn't mean that." he murmured as he walked closer to you.

But you turned away, refusing to look at him. And just like that, you heard the front door close...

☆BACK TO PRESENT☆

You stared at your phone as it continued ringing. It then stopped.

*ding* ''Open the door.'' the message said. You knew Mickey wasn't gonna give up. It took him 2 hours to ''recover'' from that argument. You sighed before putting out the cigarette.

Dragging yourself up, you walked to the front door and unlocking it. The second you did, Mickey shoved his way inside, slamming it shut behind him. His eyes were bloodshot, his hair a mess, his breathing ragged like he ran here.

"You're useless." he snapped, jaw clenched.

"And you're a fucking psycho." you shot back, walking towards him.

His lips twitched, something between a smirk and a snarl. He grabbed your wrist, pulling you closer. "You love it."

You did. You hated him. You loved him. It didn't fucking matter.

You crashed into each other, lips colliding in something desperate, messy. His hands tangled in your hair, yours clawing at his jacket, pulling, needing. Teeth clashed, nails scratched, breathing ragged between kisses that felt like drowning.

〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰

Without further warning, he grabbed your wrists and pinned them above your head, his body pressing against you. You could feel the heat from his skin and the hardness of his arousal through his thin clothing. His mouth found yours in a brutal kiss, forcing his tongue between your lips and claiming your mouth as his own. You could taste the alcohol on his breath, the fire igniting a spark within you.

He pushed you towards the wall, his hands roaming freely over youre body as he unbuckled his pants. You waited there impatiently, watching as he freed his erection from his boxers. His dick was now fully visible, thick and throbbing.

Mickey turned you around before he entered inside you without any prep. He only cared about his pleasure right now, only seeking you to relieve his stress. But that didnt matter at the moment. You moaned as you felt him stretch you out... ''Fuck...'' you heard him groan.

He then started pounding inside you, not planning to stop anytime soon. His hand wrapped around your throat, not tight enough to cut off air, just enough to remind you who was in control.

''You're such a fucking bitch...'' he hissed, his other hand slipping between your thighs, fingers ruthless against your clit. ''And you're a cheater...'' you snapped back before letting out another moan.

His hips stuttered for a second. Just a second. Because you both knew it was true. But he didn't stop. Couldn't stop. This was how you punished each other, how you forgave each other, all in the same breathless, broken cycle. His hand clamped over your mouth, silencing your hurtful words. His hips snapped forward with reckless abandon. You moaned against his palm, the sound muffled but desperate, your climax hitting you like a freight train. Sharp, all-consuming, leaving you breathless and trembling.

The way your body clenched around him dragged him over the edge, a guttural curse spilling from his lips as he came, hips jerking, breath hot against your temple.

For a moment, there was silence. Just the sound of your ragged breaths. Then he pulled out, standing up without a word, and you knew it wouldn't be long before he walked out that door again. You felt amazing and disgusting at the same time.

''Do you think it's always gonna be like this ?'' he asked you as he fixed his clothes. You let out a sigh as you thought about it. Was it really going to be like this ? Argue, hate, forgive, repeat. ''Who knows...'' you murmur as you softly sat down on the couch. You still loved him to death. Nothing was going to make you leave him.

Then, his phone dinged on the coffee table: Message from Sid💕: is she gone ?

The End.

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rat-n-atty · 2 days ago

Text

The last gift 🎁

Animation and some soppy rambling from yours truly!

( featuring in order, @stillnothereforanyrealreason @hyperbaguette @chaosisunderratedd @fandomgoesahhhhhhhhh @echostarsys @livzees (Hi wife!) @sakuwura-meow-meow @xcoffeebomb @cookiepopcat @axelcx11z @coralalala64 @tiredsmashbros @its-a-me-mango @libbytwq @bear-boi-5 @bluestrawberrybunny @briandraws )

BOOM!

REDESIGNS ONCE AGAIN ONLY THIS TIME ATTY APPARENTLY HAS LOST HER WRISTS (jk, but now her hands float for some reason, not Rats tho...)

Okay now it's time for me to rant about all the wonderful people I have made in the animation :D

@stillnothereforanyrealreason , @hyperbaguette and @chaosisunderratedd y'all are...the best friends I had ever got the chance of meeting. We have been through the deepest shit ever in our life and yet we all still managed to still be friends and that really surprises me. You guys are my truest friends that I don't mind rambling about redeemable villains with or maybe even share some shitty humor or go to y'all for some art inspiration but overall just have a really fun time.

I want to thank you for all these crazy 2 years we have been friends for and hopefully we still continue that crazy questionable bond 💜💜💜

@fandomgoesahhhhhhhhh and @echostarsys y'all are a bunch of freaks tbh /silly but you're bestest mates that I could ever ask for! I love hanging out with you guys and yapping about who knows what whether it be Smg4 or it be your Aus! I love how passionate you two are and I love how you guys support my own small projects as well! You guys have made me feel comfortable talking about my interests in a really long time and I just want to thank you for that 💜💜💜

You guys are amazing and I hope you two never stop being you (except maybe Tari...stop being rude /silly/j)

@livzees HI WIFE YOU LOVABLE BEST PERSON I HAVE EVER MET YOU!!!!!! You are the best person I have ever had the chance to meet and get to know! You're super funny and your art is really cool and I love all that you do and create including your Rivalry Au! You don't mind if I yap too much or send you the dumbest things, you make me feel seen and noticed and I am so happy I can be silly with you (considering I proposed with an onion ring)

Seeing you pop up on my screen makes my day and being with you in VC trying to make you laugh at my dumb jokes makes me happy! I love you sm (/p) and always keep being your amazing lovable you ❤️❤️❤️❤️

@sakuwura-meow-meow , @cookiepopcat and @xcoffeebomb YOU GUYSSSSSS UGHHH WHERE DO I EVEN BEGIN?????? You 3 are the coolest people ever in my eyes, even though I tend to make fun of you a lot...you mean a lot to me. You listened, you laughed, and you supported me when I felt like no was. You made me feel like I belong and that I mattered.

You all helped me get out of my shell which I am grateful for (but you should also be terrified about too, I have breeched containment and cannot be held for much longer /hj) I hope you 3 never stop being your amazing selves and I hope you know that you all hold a very special place in my half dead bitchy heart ❤️❤️❤️

@axelcx11z and @coralalala64 YOUUUU!!!! THE SILLIES!!!! YES YOU!!! YOU GUYS ARE AWESOME!!!! I'll have to admit...talking to you guys at first was so nerve-racking for me because I look up to y'all but after some chats...I realize y'all are just a bunch of the silliest people ever lol but I love that about yous.

Cora, you are the first person I saw on my page and instantly had to follow because I thought your art style was so cool and I think your Aus and your own characters and creatures (as deadly as they can be, one of them gave me rabies /hj) is the wonderful silly aspect about you that I love 🫴👑✨

Axel, you're the chilliest guy I have ever had the pleasure of meeting and I love how you even consider me your doppelganger considering how little we interact lol (sorry, I'm just too shy) . I still totally love all that you do tho no matter what fandom you're in; I fell in love with your style when I first saw it so never stop creating dude 🫴👑✨

@tiredsmashbros , @its-a-me-mango and @libbytwq or as I call you, the holy Smg4 Trinity /silly. It was such an honor to finally meet you all in the TSB server but to be honest I was also on the verge of having a panic attack because I was overwhelmed being surrounded by a bunch of people I look up to the most. I know I'm not active much and I barely have anything to say (unless it's about AJR or my cursed hear me outs) But I absolutely enjoyed any interaction I got.

You guys are the biggest inspirations in my life and I hope that one day I'll be able to achieve what you do (but not today lol) you guys are awesome, I love your rants and your complicated lore and most of all, I love your art and I hope you never stop doing what you love 🫴👑👑👑✨✨✨

@bear-boi-5 HI! HELLO! IT'S ME! YOU ARE ONE OF THE FIRST PEOPLE I LOOKED UP TO! When I first joined Tumblr, I remember your pretty little masked face /silly showing up on my screen and I immediately saw and loved it! You are such a master at traditional art and I love how detailed it is and how cool it looks!

When you first made fanart of my Smg5 I was absolutely shook considering at the time I was still a fairly small creator with only like 50 followers lmao but I want to thank you, if you didn't draw my Smg5 I probably wouldn't have drawn her much either assuming that people just hated her.

Meeting you in the TSB server was the coolest thing in my life because you're one chill dude and I hope that maybe when I overcome my overbearing shyness we could get to know each other better lol

🫴👑✨

@bluestrawberrybunny and @briandraws Brian, you're a freak /pos like HOW???? HOW DO YOU HAVE THE TIME, AND THE PASSION AND THE ENERGY FOR WHAT YOU DO???? Honestly if I ever had the amount of energy you have, I would be in a bloody coma. You are the first person I ever had the chance of actually connecting with a Tumblr moot (and realizing how unhinged they are /hj) but I just wanted to say thank you for tolerating me this long lol. Your an amazing artist and even an amazing author (even though I think you should be sentenced to a mental hospital for flooding the server about your Marware obsession /j )

And you! Blue! I love all your work as well! I love apprenticeship and I love your tangents! Having you and meeting you in the server has been a treat but it's also nerve racking because I'm still shy lol. I think your art is so cute and I hope you never stop!

🫴👑👑✨✨

Because of the song I couldn't add as many people as I wanted but here are some honorable mentions!

@deltaruinedcoco37 @purpdrawsthings @hamlos @chaoticlad @bow-and-aro-child @theartistisme43 @b-r-i-n-g-x @grinnames @strange0-0storm @goofy-goobers-things @arco-doodles @artist-heart83 @sspacesillyy @hi-imlooneybirdie @pisschxn @rainstormsart and PLENTY MORE BUT TUMBLR FUCKING HATES ME SO IF YOU SEE THIS THEN I LIKE YOU TOO

I love all that you guys do wether that be art or writing or theories or ANYTHING ELSE just know that you'll always have a supporter 🫴👑✨

Now this brings me to the end of my birthday party sadly, I hope y'all liked it and I hope y'all didn't eat all of my birthday cake and thank you for all the birthday art and wishes but before y'all go...

HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY!!!

The many joys of sharing your birthday with a holiday, it's often overlooked lol but I hope you guys enjoy it whether you're alone or you have a partner. Practice self love too because you're also important ❤️❤️❤️

Okay that's it

BI Y'ALL!

#art blog #artists on tumblr #sona art #my birthday #EEEEE I HOPE YALL ENJOYED #I HOPE YOU ALL KNOW THAT YOU ARE LOVED #I hope you have a wonderful day this day lol #also if any of you try to @ me or something just know I won't get back to youe until monday probably because I'm leaving for a trip #okay bi

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astrolook · 2 days ago

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Debunking Myths and Understanding the Basics of Astrology: What You Need to Know

First of all, as an experienced astrologer in both Western and Vedic astrology and seasoned tarot reader since 2019 , I am sick and tired of these people saying "You're such a Leo", "That's so Gemini", etc. Your sun sign can be anything and still not exhibit those traits.

Ah! about the cusp. If you say you were born on the cusp, you can exhibit both traits of each sign in varying degrees. Nope, not true.

Lemme walk you through it.

Ascendant Sign : Your Ascendant sign is the mask you wear in social settings. It's how you approach new situations, how others see you before they get to know your deeper layers, and the first impression you make. It's like the lens through which you filter your life, your personal style, and even how you react to challenges.

The Ascendant is often linked to your physical traits. Your Rising sign can influence your general appearance, mannerisms, and style of dress.

For example, an Aries Ascendant may have a bold and energetic demeanor, possibly with a youthful or athletic appearance, while a Libra Ascendant might exude charm and grace, with an emphasis on balance and beauty.

It is often the "mask" you wear around others.

Sun Sign: Ah, your Sun Sign—the spotlight-hogging diva of your birth chart! You know, the one that everyone always talks about at parties. It’s the sign that tells people the bare minimum about who you are. But let’s be real—your Sun sign isn’t just a tiny sliver of who you are; it’s the star of the show. It’s the sign that you flaunt on your dating profile, throw out at brunch, and occasionally maybe even base some of your life choices on. 😜

Moon sign: Ah, your Moon sign—the moody, mysterious diva in your astrological lineup. While your Sun sign is out there shining and being all “Hey, look at me, I’m the star,” your Moon sign is like, “I’m over here in the background, deciding how you’re going to feel about literally everything.” This little celestial fellow is the emotional compass of your life, and let’s just say, it has some very opinionated feelings. One minute you’re floating on cloud nine, the next you’re spiraling because someone didn't reply to your text in 2 minutes.

Mercury Sign: The planet that rules communication, thought, and all those awkward silences in conversations. Your Mercury sign is like that internal app that decides how your brain processes things and spits them back out, whether it's through words, ideas, or, let's be honest, random tangents that no one asked for. It’s how you think, how you talk, and—more importantly—how some annoy people at dinner parties with their really unnecessary commentary.

Venus Sign : The cosmic love guru. Venus sign tells you how you love, what you’re attracted to, and how extra you can be about it. It's the cosmic Cupid, and let’s just say, it either has you swooning like a romantic comedy lead or rolling your eyes like you're stuck in a soap opera. Whether you're a lover or a fighter (or both, let's be honest), your Venus sign is a mood and a half.

Mars Sign: The Cosmic Action Hero with a Temper Tantrum. If your Mars sign were a movie character, it’d either be the intense hero who’s always saving the day or the over-caffeinated villain who’s always yelling at the screen. Mars doesn’t care about subtlety—it’s all about action, drive, and letting off a little steam when things don’t go as planned (which is, like, always).

Jupiter Sign: The Cosmic Luck Bringer, Philosopher, and General Overachiever. The planet of expansion, growth, and good vibes only. Your Jupiter sign is basically your cosmic cheerleader, always pushing you to dream bigger, go beyond your limits, and aim for the stars (because why not?). It’s the planet of abundance, wisdom, and sometimes... just a little too much of everything. Think of it as your inner party animal, philosopher, and optimist all wrapped into one.

When Jupiter’s around, everything feels a little larger than life, and it brings a touch of luck wherever you go—whether you’re trying to find your car keys or you’ve just stepped into a life-changing opportunity.

Saturn Sign: The Cosmic Taskmaster Who Won’t Let You Have Fun (But Will Help You Build an Empire) 🛠️💼

Saturn is the strict parent who makes you clean your room before you can have any fun. It’s the tough love planet, giving you those life lessons you didn’t ask for but definitely needed. Saturn is the cosmic “adulting” mentor that’s like, “Get it together, kid,” and then pushes you to build a legacy. So, thanks, I guess?

Your Saturn sign is like that one friend who won’t let you skip leg day but will definitely get you to a place where you’ll appreciate it. Let’s take a dive into the wonderful, stern world of Saturn, where laziness is not tolerated, and a good work ethic is non-negotiable.

Lemme me walk you through ascendant signs in the next post.

#astrology #astro observations #zodiac signs #ascendant #sun sign #moon sign #mars signs #venus signs #mercury sign #astrology readings #birth chart #astro community

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sc0tters · 2 hours ago

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Captains Orders | Quinn Hughes & Nico Hischier

summary: what happens when quinn learns he isn't the only captain you've been hooking up with?

request: yes/no

warnings: sexual themes, threesome, dismissive kink, dom!quinn, p in v (unprotected!), oral (m receiving!), masturbation, in general filthy smut.

word count: 6.77k

authors note: we have been in the thick of the threesomes recently but you won't hear me complain because this one i am pretty sure i lost my ability to have a filter so some of these points were simply the cause of my brain and of course @sweetestdesire who is back in the seat of helping with these threesomes so as always thank you to brynn for listening to the shit that comes out of my mouth while i plan these 💗 this was a version of threesomes i have never fully gone at before so lets hope the plot landed.

You really didn’t know how you ended up like this.

Well, that was a lie. You knew exactly how you ended up chasing after the eldest Hughes boy in the lake house as you tried to apologise. Quinn had come down to see you standing in the kitchen as Nico recounted the days when you spent most evenings in his bed. As Jack’s best friend, your sex life shouldn’t have mattered to Quinn, especially the stuff that you did back when you lived with Jack as you got your degree. But Quinn did care; in fact, he cared so much because now that you resided in Vancouver, you were doing the same thing with him. Gone were the moments of feeling special, that you were the one who helped him feel better during the darker days within the season. Craving your company and your bed as your sweet sweet cunt was the best therapy he could have ever gotten.

Because now he wasn’t special, Quinn was actually the second person you had been doing this with and he had seen the way that Nico had been looking at you all week. From the moment that the Swiss man walked into the house, his eyes seemed to settle on you for a little too long. So now knowing that there was something between you both, it all made sense to Quinn. He hadn’t bothered to ask before because he thought that he was just dreaming things up. But that sense of hope seemed to just bite him in the ass.

Quinn heard you walk into the room behind him “I didn’t think that you needed to know about a relationship that means nothing to me now.” You let out a sigh, watching him grab the tv remote before he started to flick through the channels “please Quinny.” You begged, wanting a response as you pulled your hoodie off of your head, leaving you in the little sundress that he loved so much.

But still, he remained focused on the screen that stood behind you “fine.” You grumbled, dropping onto your knees without a second thought. You knew he was mad but there was only so much that he could ignore when it came to you. And you weren’t above crawling to him, so that was what you did.

The dress you wore climbed up your ass revealing the white panties that you wore. Quinn’s eyes did break from the screen to you it but still, he didn’t talk and when you noticed him looking, his eyes went back to the screen. It took everything from him to not grunt. The sight of you on your knees was something he always loved “please Quinny I’m sorry.” You whined, letting your lips form a pout.

His fingers dug into his hand as he stayed quiet wanting you to work for his attention “you want me to suck your cock huh?” Your fingers were delicate against his shorts. The sound of your freshly manicured nails against his waistband.

He licked his lips when you pulled his shorts and boxers down to let his cock spring up against his pubic bone “god Quinn please just talk to me.” You begged, pumping his cock in your hand.

His silence made you feel bad, as if your past relationship was something that could have been held against you. So you licked at his cock as if he was your lollipop, your tongue swirled around the head of his cock. Hoping, almost even praying that you’d draw out a response from him, when you weren’t even sure if you got a cut breath.

Quinn had done this before, ignored you until he thought that you had sucked his cock well enough to be spoken to again. So as you looked back up at him you set yourself the challenge of breaking him sooner than you ever had done before.

You wrapped your lips around his cock, arching your back in a way that allowed you to take his cock much easier than normal. He felt your tongue run along the underside of his cock as your nostrils flared. His head rested against the cushion behind him while he gripped at the remote trying to not show you the effect that you really did have on him too early on.

Your mouth felt like your cunt to him when he was desperate to just feel you so now when you were all methodical it was close to sending him over the edge especially as your eyes remained on him. When your hands reached down to massage his balls, he stopped you, one hand went on top of your as the other pressed on the back of your head forcing you to hit his pubic bone with your nose.

Quinn loved the feeling and the soft effects as you gagged on his cunt and as he watched the replay of the tennis game on the tv in front of him he couldn’t help but begin to fuck your throat. The feeling your mouth gave him was addictive, like he had morphed you into his personal toy.

The walls of your throat tightened around his cock but with how harshly he fucked your throat Quinn barely felt it. Even in his state of getting have your mouth at entirely his own mercy, he still noticed what happened around him. That is why he saw your free hand leave his thigh before travelling between your own legs.

Your panties came down to your knees as your clit ached for attention. But you knew that you couldn’t give into yourself, not until you had earned it. The sounds of your own gags had you focusing on Quinn. You weren’t able to see his face with how he had positioned his hand on your head and you wondered if that was how he liked it.

But Quinn was strong, even if he fucked your throat like it was the last thing on earth. You weren’t going to hear him even squeak, even if that meant he was gnawing his own lip off in the process. His throbbed as precum oozed into your throat, not giving you a chance to savour that taste of it.

Your nails dug into the side of your thigh to keep you from rubbing at your clit, tears formed in your eyes because you wanted nothing more than to just make Quinn cum. At least then you’d get some kind of release, too. Your pleads came out muffled but even Quinn could make out that you were begging him to finally cum, it wasn’t going to be the last time of the night for him anyways.

He tugged at your hair when his thrusts became erratic. His thighs began to shake and he was dangerously close to cumming when he felt your tongue hit his balls. You wished you had a bigger mouth because then you would be able to take more of him. Quinn felt his jaw tense as you hollowed out your cheeks and shifted your legs back to let him thrust more freely. The boy watched in awe as the sounds of your whimpers and gags sent him over the edge.

Quinn loved the feeling of cumming down your throat, but on days like this he preferred to not let his thrusts slow until he has finished painting your mouth and throat with his release. That way some of it ends up on your tongue and eventually your mouth feels so full that he can’t even fuck you with any easy anymore.

He finally halted his movements to catch his breath as he let you have his cock comfortably in your mouth while he slightly turned your head to let breathe more comfortably. His eyes never trailed down to yours however, Quinn was far more entertained by the tennis on the screen, watching the players move with ease.

But when he turned you, your jaw began to grow slack, almost wanting to rest for what you knew would be a long night. The captain could feel that his thighs were damp and he originally thought it was just your saliva pooling onto his shorts, but instead, it was your tears.

At first, he worried that he had pushed you too far when he saw how your mascara was a goopy mess on your cheeks. Quinn was ready to pull you onto his lap and treat you like his princess for the rest of eternity if he had to. But as his cum slipped from your lips, Quinn watched how you caught it with your fingers. Trying to stealthily bring them back down to your cunt.

His hands ran through your hair as he held back a laugh, Quinn should have felt relieved in that moment but deep down he just knew that you were his little slut. He knew you were only teasing your clit as you waited for him to start fucking your throat.

So the captain decided to play nice as his cock felt hard again as he gripped at your hair, reforming your makeshift pony at the back of your head. Quinn wanted to smile feeling your free hand grip at his knee as you moved your head, causing his cock to throb at the feeling of your jaw tightening again.

His pace started off slow as he began to move his hips, still feeling a little bit sensitive from the first orgasm that he had. He watched your hand move making him wish that he could see how your fingers strummed against your clit. Sometimes, if there was a roadie when he desperately needed you, he’d get you on Facetime and make sure that your phone was set up so that he could see how your pretty face would react while you did a mix of rubbing at your clit and listening to his orders of how you needed to finger yourself.

It was what he thought of while he listened to you whimper against his cock, carefully focusing that you continued to pay more attention to him than yourself. He chewed at his cheek, desperate to touch you, but still he had to keep himself restrained.

Quinn listened to how you brought your fingers into your cunt, it was two because he was the only one who went for three. Your jaw tightened around him as your palm brushed against your clit.

You moaned again feeling how each of Quinn’s thrusts forced his cock past your uvula, somehow not causing you to gag. The room felt hot as you both settled into your own movements, each working towards your own orgasms. The captain made sure that he didn’t lift his hand from your head as he wanted to watch you, but you couldn’t know he was watching you. He imagined that it was his own hand getting you off as he let out the first grunt that was loud enough for you not to need to confirm it. You were finally breaking down his facade he out up that night, and you weren’t stopping there. You lapped at his dick, constantly making sure that he knew the sheer amount of work that you were putting in. Begging him without even having to say a word.

Those movements continued on of you fucking your hand and turning his cock into your new favourite lollipop until Quinn felt his chest heave when you cried, whimpering around him as you came down from your own high and trigger his own with his hand now running through your hair.

You were left in a puddle of your own mess, desperate to look at Quinn and how you made him feel “poor schatz.” The words made you freeze, whereas Quinn laughed with his sense of cold that sent a shiver down your spine “probably isn’t even turned on with how neglected she is.” That made Quinn pull your head off of his cock.

Strings of spit connected it to your mouth still “should we check your pretty fucking pussy to show him how you feel when I fuck your face like this?” Quinn smirked, watching you nod. To him, in that moment, you looked gorgeous with your ruined makeup, dishevelled hair, and that mix of saliva and cum on your chin.

The Canucks captain leaned down to run his fingers through your folds as he kissed you. It was the first time that night that he had done so, and you savoured that. Quinn could taste his release on your tongue, and he had to remind himself that you two were not alone when you moaned feeling his fingers against your slit. Nico’s eyes watched how Quinn’s fingers glistened with your release “what were you saying about how she is feeling today?” Quinn asked as he smirked “since I am feeling generous.” He licked his lips, looking back at you.

That blue dress that you wore was something Quinn wanted to rip off of you, but tonight he was going to play nice and show some self-restraint “why don’t you show Nico how well you suck cock now.” Quinn ran his fingers down your jaw before he turned your head to where Nico stood “schatz you don-” Nico went to tell you that you didn’t need to do what Quinn had said, but you were quicker than him.

The smile that formed on your face was the same one that had Quinn thinking that you were a fucking minx, his fucking minx. How was there a reality where you were this innocent girl, but that look on your face always had him thinking otherwise? As you stood up, Quinn helped you out of your panties as they needed a final kick before they were left on his floor. You turned to face Nico again, but you couldn’t even get one step before Quinn had to remind you of his expectations “nuh-uh, baby. I didn't say you could walk, now did I? You know better than that.” There was this sense of disappointment in his voice that made you frown as you dropped back onto your knees “I’m sorry.” Your lips formed a pout looking back at Quinn, almost scared to go to the older captain if the Canucks one was irritated with you.

But instead, he smiled “that’s okay, sweet girl.” He ran his fingers along your cheek making you lean into his touch “just go bring him over here, okay?” You looked eager as your eyes lit up when you acquired the task. Nico stood still, almost intimidated by the hold that Quinn had over you making it seem like you were some kind of prey that the boy had gotten as the American began to pump his cock with his hand watching how pretty your ass looked from this side of the dress. Your orgasm’s aftermath was present, glistening through your folds, making him lick his lips. Nico, on the other hand, watched you with a sense of curiosity; your days with him had him worshipping you, and it was not the other way round. He could see in your eyes that you were eager for him, for this. Your breasts were perfectly framed in the dress that Nico wondered if it was made for you “hi.” You smiled when you stopped at his feet.

Nico was quick to give you his hand to help you back onto your feet “hey.” He ran his fingers through your hair as he looked at you almost trying to see what else had changed when your fingers ran over his cock. His boner was present through his shorts. He may not have agreed with what Quinn was doing to you, but he couldn’t deny that you were hot. The Swiss man felt his head fall forward at your touch “you gonna let me suck your cock?” The words were so vulgar from your mouth making him feel so dirty but somehow Nico felt his brain turn off as his cock took over the thinking.

His hands were bigger than Quinn’s when he cupped your cheeks. You could taste his beer on his tongue, already comparing how it tasted to the one that Quinn preferred which was drier, Nico felt himself get carried away when he brought his one hand down your back; you had deepened the kiss so this felt natural. As his tongue fought with yours he let his hand continue down your back to your ass. He was purposeful with his touch, if he touched you, he wanted to feel all of you and that was how his hand ended up under your dress while he squeezed at your ass.

It made you moan loud enough for Quinn to hear as the Swiss man fondled your skin in his hand “I don’t remember saying you could touch her.” Quinn’s words made Nico pull away from you with a smirk as his lower lip was caught between your teeth “careful, Hughes your jealousy is showing.” Nico looked to the American as you reached down to grab his hand.

There was a look in your eyes that told him to keep calm and just let you lead the way. You stopped back at the couch, the simple two seater now felt tiny as Nico thought you were going to make him sit next to the Hughes boy in some sick kind of joke. Luckily for him, you didn’t let Nico stew in his misery for long, as you ended up back on your knees but on the couch next to Quinn. The only difference was that you were facing Nico as you used the arm of the sofa to lean against “she doesn’t like waiting Hischier.” Quinn teased looking at him for only a moment before he let his eyes fall back to the hem of your dress, it was just too long as it covered your sweet pussy that he wanted to see so desperately “who says I am making her wait.” Nico spat as he undid the button of his shorts before he pulled them down with his boxers.

You rubbed your thighs together as the thought of both boys fighting over you lit this fire in your pussy, the thoughts of them both fucking you made your mouth water as you didn’t know if you could even take both of them at once. But, boy, were you willing to try. Nico ran his hand over his cock, spreading his precum over the swollen head that was in front of your face “neeks let me.” Your voice was soft when you looked at him, bringing your hand over his before you brought your lips cock.

Nico watched as you did these pathetic little kitten licks, almost taunting him in the process. His hands gripped at your hair while he sent you a glare until Quinn did the first thing that Nico could actually agree with that day “just because you aren’t sucking my cock baby don’t mean that you can go off acting like a brat.” Quinn warned as he pushed your dress over your ass so he could hit your ass.

He lay a smack against your skin, making your eyes go wide as you moaned. Your body jolted, and as that happened, you took as much of Nico as you could in your mouth. Quinn smirked as he readjusted, letting his knees sit on the couch. He smirked as he watched your pussy flutter around nothing while his hand massaged your ass. He honestly thought that you were so cute doing this for him.

Quinn knew that you had your ass like that so he could get the perfect view of your cunt “fucking hell.” He ran his thumb over your slit while he smiled hearing you moan around Nico’s cock.

You almost felt conflicted, wanting to stretch your body to both boys. You wanted Nico in your throat and Quinn to be against you too “you can fuck her face.” He pumped his cock in his hand, resting his one foot on the floor.

Nico went to snap back but he was quickly stopped when Quinn slotted his cock into your cunt. Quickly bringing his hips against yours before you got a chance to adjust to his size. Your response was to tighten your throat around the head of Nico’s cock, digging your nails into his thighs.

It knocked the breath out of him as his hands tugged at your hair. You breathed through your nostrils, using Quinn’s thrusts to force Nico’s cock deeper into your throat. Quinn’s lips turned upright when he settled into a good pace “sweet girl you seen how good you sucking his cock?” Quinn cooed running his fingers over your ass as his fingers gripped at your hips.

Your cunt clenched around him as you looked up at Nico through your thick eyelashes. Nico ran his tongue over his lips feeling your tongue swirl around his cock before you let him hit deeper in your throat. The boy tried to pull away when you gagged but your fingers gripping at him was enough to stop him.

The pain in his thighs made his stomach tighten “fuck you are perfect.” Nico grunted hearing how the squelches of your cunt mixed with the gags of your mouth “and you thought she wasn’t a slut.” Quinn laughed, bringing his hand around to brush at your clit.

His cock throbbed against the slick walls of your cunt “she was waiting around for you to finally-” Quinn let out a moan watching how your back arched to get more of both cock “get unleashed by someone who could fuck her properly.” The American slapped your ass again making you whimper around Nico.

Nico would never have admitted it, but Nico used to think that your mouth was good, but now it was heavenly. You hollowed your cheeks as if his cock was a straw and you were drinking out of it “you wanna let him cum?” Quinn could see the look Nico gave you, how his lips were attacked by his teeth.

Swallowing his moans as he swore that you were going to make him cum harder than he ever had before. Tears streamed down your cheeks as you nodded, begging for Nico to cum on your tongue. For him to mark your throat, even if Quinn had already done that twice before “then I think he should let you hear how well you are making him feel.” Quinn brought his fingers from your clit to your boob. Taking your wetness to spread it around your nipple.

You whimpered as your body began to shake “she’s so responsive.” Quinn licked his lips “cause you love hearing how much of a cockslut you are don’t ya?” Your muffled whimpers echoed off of the walls as you nodded.

Quinn stood back up straight bringing his hand back to your clit “didn’t think you used to be with such a rude boy before baby.” Quinn’s taunts finally broke Nico “don’t stop using your tongue like that.” Nico begged, letting his head fall back.

The Swissman was now relying on you and Quinn’s thrusts to allow him to fuck your throat. His stomach tightened as his hair threw slick with sweat “your perfect fucking mouth is bringing him close.” Quinn teased, forcing himself to control his thrusts, feeling that you were close. He was, too, but he wanted to watch Nico finish first.

It was a total stroke to his ego watching Nico nod “just like that.” He encouraged you to continue hollowing your cheeks as your eyes didn’t leave his face. Studying his every reaction “think you should ask if you can make a mess in her mouth.” Your cunt clenched around Quinn feeling his calloused fingers against your clit, the roughness sending shivers through your body “you gonna let me cum in your pretty throat schatz?” You moaned hearing the question as your mind felt disconnected from the pleasure that you felt.

Your brain was foggy and Quinn knew that you were just desperate to cum too at that point “you’re asking the wrong person Neeks.” Quinn’s tone fucked with the boy, urging him to react. With one step out of line, Nico knew that it was all going to be over for him tonight “you think I’m going to ask you?” Nico laughed as he shook his head.

But watching the younger captain remain quiet, the Devils captain realised he was serious “I’m not fucking-” Nico went to argue but Quinn was quick to cut him off “doll stop sucking his cock.” Even as you were focused on being used by both boys, Quinn’s order was something that you were almost hardwired to respond to.

So you begun to pull away as you made your lips form an o shape “fuck Quinn please.” Nico looked at the younger boy “I just wanna cum.” You whimpered at the thought of him spraying his messy ropes of release down your throat.

Quinn clicked his tongue “such a shame that it just isn’t good enough.” He sighed as he shrugged still letting your his hips hit the curve of your ass “try again.” The Hughes boy ordered holding his hand against your chest to remind Nico that he really could pull you off of him.

Nico was getting frustrated, desperate to cum “sir.” Your words were muffled, but as Nico looked down at you, he could see that you were trying to say something. You let your tongue move so that you could speak even with his cock in your mouth “sir.” Quinn let out a dark chuckle, seeing that Nico had heard you properly this time.

The Swissman thought about it as Quinn let you slowly move your mouth against his length, hoping to encourage him “I can pull her-” Quinn’s threat that came for a second time seemed to finally break the boy “fuck let me cum sir.” The words slipped from Nico’s tongue in a way that he almost didn’t even care about what he had just said.

Quinn nodded as he sucked at his teeth “sweet girl you can finish him off.” The Hughes boy cooed finally letting Nico cum. Nico would have cringed if he had been told that this is what he would be doing, but in that moment god he just wanted to cum “don’t stop yes!” Nico gasped, sticking your head against his pubic bone.

The little bit of hair that he had tickled your nose as he forced his hips against you desperate to cum. Desire filled his sense as he squirmed, screwing his eyes shut so that he could imagine that he was the one in your cunt.

It didn’t take him long to feel his hips jitter as his fingers dug into your scalp, the pain making you moan against his cock sending him over the edge. His grunts bounced off of the walls of the room, Quinn felt slightly grateful that his room was away from everyone else’s. It meant that nobody else was going to be interrupting you once Quinn got the Swiss man out of there.

The older boys cum painted your throat “fuck schatz.” He ran his thumb over your cheek to wipe away your tears. You went to let his cock slip from between your lips but Quinn pressed his hand against your head, forcing you to have Nico’s cock right in the back of your throat “be a good little thing and keep his cock in your mouth while I destroy your pussy.” Your ears rang as you felt your stomach tighten while your cunt clenched around him.

You swore that Quinn’s cock was bigger, hitting spots in your pussy you had never felt him hit before. So as the head of his cock brushed against your g-spot you couldn’t help but moan, watching Nico keep your head flush against his cock.

Quinn hit your ass as he scoffed “be a good girl and stay fucking quiet okay?” His pace seemed to get even quicker as he turned animalistic, practically fucking you senseless.

Nico and Quinn all of a sudden seemed to be on the same team with the Swiss man tugging at your hair each time you moaned which was usually followed by Quinn smacking your ass “someone is starting to be a good girl now.” You nodded, hearing Nico’s words as your thighs ached, burning while Quinn’s hands held you up “you’re lucky I’m feeling generous.” The Canucks captain gritted through his teeth.

He was painfully close but he would never let them know that it was the reason why Quinn was going to let you cum “because now you get to see how fucking pretty this slut is when she cums on my cock.” The American patted your back as his hips drove into you.

Your eyes rolled back in your head as your body spasmed, clenching around Quinn’s cock so hard you swore you could have broken it. He hissed feeling how your gummy walls cream around his dick, spurring on his own orgasm “holy fuck-” Quinn cut himself off when he shot his creamy load into your cunt.

Quinn finally slowed down his thrusts, pulling out of you to see that Nico had already slipped his cock out of your mouth “how you feeling pretty girl?” Nico asked watching you rest on your arms as your ass was in the air “fucked.” A soft laugh left your lips when he ran his fingers through your hair.

He nodded, slipping his cock back into his boxers and shorts before he looked between you and Quinn “think I’ll get this one to bed.” Quinn ran his fingers along your back, making you shiver.

The Swiss man pursed his lips together “goodnight, you two.”Nico knew he had lost when he saw that you were so free “we will see you in the morning.” Quinn didn’t give two shits if Nico was taking this maturely and with grace, the Hughes boy wanted to have more of you and this time privately.

Nico stood at the door looking at you both “and if when you come back to Jersey.” He let his lips form a smirk “make sure to bring her along too.” Nico shot you a wink before he finally walked out of the room.

The door shut behind him as you looked at Quinn “he really meant nothing.” You sighed sitting flat on your ass when Quinn joined you “I mean we fucked a few times while I was there but it was just when we both needed someone.” That confession made his nostrils flare because that was what you both currently boiled down to.

After wins, defeats, lonely nights when he just didn’t want to be at his place, Quinn was at yours “you really mean that?” Quinn tucked your hair behind your ear as you nodded “and I haven’t spoken to him since I left because he had gotten a girlfriend.” Your words seemed to light a fire beneath him.

Did you really mean that if Nico didn’t have a girlfriend when you left, things would have been different? That you’d be in the Swissmans’ room as opposed to Quinns? Surely, you wanted Quinn the way he wanted you? Quinn shook his head as he kissed you, starting with your shoulder, slowly making his way up your jaw “Quinny.” You moaned, moving into his lap as if you were desperate to kiss him.

Quinn smiled as he brought his hands up your sides “hey pretty girl.” He cooed, hooking his fingers in the straps of your dress. He sucked at his teeth pulling them down your arms to reveal your pretty perky tits that bounced as if they praised Quinn for releasing them. You felt your cheeks grow hot “not fair, you’re still in this.” You softly laughed as you ran your fingers along the hem of his shirt.

He wasn’t going to argue; he didn’t want to argue with you, so he took his shirt off and as he did that, you pulled your dress off. Now you both sat there naked, but somehow you were feeling the most vulnerable that you had ever felt in front of someone “kissy?” You begged, running your fingers over his lips, making him smile.

The boy took your jaw between your fingers so that he could kiss you. There was no lust driving this kiss, there was just a want to be close to one another. Quinn’s tongue and fought with yours, it was this fight of back and forth that ended as he squeezed your ass in his hand.

A moan escaped from your lips as he smirked, his hands moved to your glutes so that he could pick you up. Your legs instantly wrapped around his hips when he stood, locking behind his back as if he was going to drop you since he focused on how your lips felt against his. He walked you back to the bed with such ease that if this was a Quinn, you didn’t know you would have been impressed. The boy dropped you onto the bed as if you were nothing more than his phone or wallet, watching how your breasts bounced when you landed on the soft mattress. Quinn smiled in awe, drinking in the sight of you naked and practically calling for him to come to you.

So the boy let his knees hit the bed, mattress dipping as you felt your mouth water “you gonna let me fuck this pussy again?” His words made you squirm as you forced your thighs together until his hand managed to get caught between them “can’t do that if you shut your legs on me, sweet girl.” Quinn made it seem so easy as his words turned you into putty, and with a deep breath, you let your thighs open again.

Allowing the boy to be faced with your cunt that so glistened for him “please Quinn.” You whined, wanting some kind of friction or move from him “please what?” The captain knew what you wanted, but you were going to have to spell it out to him if you wanted any kind of success tonight.

You chewed at your lip while your hands trailed over your nipples, which made him flick your thigh “use your words to ask me, or else I am gonna make sure you can’t touch anything.” His belt sat on the floor and you knew that Quinn wasn’t above using it and you weren’t in the mood to test him tonight “wanna watch you fuck me please.” Your works made him lick his lips, the offer was so inviting that he didn’t know how any sane person would turn it down.

So the boy made light work of moving you so that he could sit between your legs “such a well mannered girl.” The boy complimented you as he ran his fingers across your stomach. Your breath hitched, watching him move his torso so that he hovered over you “kiss?” He asked, puckering his lips as he watched you crack a grin. You nodded and this time the kiss was soft, you could have sworn there was love in it even as you gasped at the feeling of his cock’s head lazily dragged over your clit.

Quinn softly bit down on your lower lip when he let his cock sink into your cunt “fucking hell.” Your eyes screwed shut feeling how he felt letting your cunt cling to every inch of his dick “you feel so good.” Quinn confessed, kissing your forehead as he rolled his hips into yours.

You opened your eyes to see him hovering over you “w-want more.” You begged, feeling like the world around you had been sucked into this room leaving you as the only two people that mattered “is that so?” He asked with a smirk, letting his pace pick back up to what it was when you were on the couch.

In that moment you knew you sounded like a porn star but you didn’t even care. Gripping at your tits as you bounced with each thrust like he was going to fuck you into his bed “never gonna get over this perfect pussy.” Quinn let his head drop against your shoulder, his teeth grazing at your skin.

It was clear that both of you were still sensitive from your previous orgasms of the night as a slew of incoherent curses came from your lips “fuck I want it forever.” The captain confessed letting his cock ram into your cunt while he picked up your leg to bring it over his shoulder “you gonna let me have it sweetheart?” Quinn teased letting himself fuck your cunt even deeper than he had before.

Whimpers escaped from your lips as you nodded “please.” You mumbled feeling his one hand travel down to your slit. Pressing against your pelvis while his fingers toyed with that sensitive bud “what was that?” Quinn smirked, bringing his other hand up to your throat.

Pressing his thumb and middle fingers against the sides of your neck, “couldn’t hear ya.” He brought his face down to yours as he nipped at your jaw.

Softly sucking at your skin, it felt like a stark contrast to the abuse he was inflicting on your pussy “it’s yours Quinn.” You nodded and in that moment the American swore he was ready to cum and let his body give out from above you “fuck you are so dangerous.” He grunted letting out a hiss as your cunt clenched around him.

The boy could see it in your eyes “you gonna cum?” Quinn asked speeding up his fingers against your clit. You couldn’t get out a solid response just a string of whimpers as you nodded “make a mess on my cock so I can fuck you full.” His eyes traveled to your breasts, which he thought about growing bigger.

Neither one of you wanted kids at the moment, but that would be the truest act of staking his claim on you “go on.” He sucked at your ear lobe as your moans echoed against the walls of the room.

You should have felt embarrassed thinking about what this room had seen tonight, but instead you were arching your back while your free leg pressed against his lower back keeping him close to you. You cried feeling yourself cum as white spots scattered across your eyelids when you screwed them shut. Quinn couldn’t last when you squirmed, feeling your cunt flutter around his cock “just like that.” He nodded, chatting out those words while his cum coated the walls of your cunt.

Quinn moved his head so that he could kiss you as his thrusts came to a halt when you smiled “there you are pretty girl.” He mumbled pulling his cock out while he sat up to study you like a piece of art, his art.

His eyes burned into your pussy making you push yourself onto your elbows “what?” You cocked your head seeing him smile “I need to clean you up but don’t want to ruin this just yet.” The boy huffed as he got up off of the bed.

Before you could offer any kind of protest, he scooped you into his arms and brought you into his ensuite.

It was a room you knew fairly well, but usually, you were sneaking back to your own one at this point “something on your mind?” He asked, feeling you staring at him as he ran the rag into the tap “like this side of you.” Your confession made your cheeks turn red as he smiled, turning to look at you.

Quinn moved to be in between your legs as the warm cloth ran against your slit “think that you have one more in you?” The question was genuine, as he didn’t want to push you too far.

But you nodded “what do you have in mind?” He held his hand out to pull you off of the counter. Quickly turned you around as you instinctively spread your legs for him “you wanna watch how your boy fucks this pussy?” Quinn smirked running his now hard again dick against your clit.

Your head fell forward but still your eyes remained on him “fuck me like you mean it captain.” Oh, you were going to be the death of him, but he couldn’t have cared.

In fact, Quinn was ready to dig his grave for you because this man was yours.

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